Summary: Akechi lures you back in as usual. At the same time, Akira seems to want to hang out more than usual.
Warnings: swearing, love triangle af
a/n: removing the dates, it makes it awkward and i need more time between events to get the plot going without it being paced too quick
: ̗̀➛ Between the shadows ᯓ★
You really shouldn’t be here. Not with Akechi.
“You’re fucking with me.” You muse as you peer over the rim of your ceramic cup. Akechi simply exhales at your reply as be brings an ungloved hand to thread through his chocolate brown locks, “Your foul mouth isn’t a match for your pretty face.”
You sigh, sinking back into the worn sofa. Akechi had invited you to speak in his apartment, a place you swore you would never step foot into again. But, with his newfound fame and gaggle of fangirls who practically stalked him into elusiveness, your only options were your apartment or his.
And you did not fancy the idea of fangirls lighting your apartment up.
A part of you hates how easy it felt to fall back into routine — how you still see the traces you left behind. Akechi swept your coat off your figure and your feet fell into the same pair of house slippers he bought you years ago. Your heart clenched so painfully as you stared at the dusky pink pair, the only other pair besides his own worn out slippers.
The soles of the slippers are still worn from the countless days you spend padding around his house in them.
“You never got rid of my slippers.” You twist your ankles and direct your eyes to the ground. Akechi shakes his head slowly, almost dumbfounded that you would point out such a thing. He sinks further back into the couch, propping his right arm against the back of the sofa so he can rest his head against his hand to look at you (longingly).
You take in the living area. It’s practically the same despite a few more decorations. You remember when you first visited and chastised Akechi for living somewhere so blank.
“Goro… There’s no colour at all!” You gape at his blank walls. It looked like he had just moved in with little to no signs of personality present in any corner of the household.
Akechi shrugs, smiling softly at your expression. He sets both yours and his bag against the coffee table in the middle of the room. You were both meant to study here anyway.
“Less distractions.” He replies with ease.
You spot a few trinkets. Some admittedly from yourself. It stings to see he is still holding on to what you once had when you’re trying so desperately to erase it yourself.
“Why would I throw them away?” He asks. You know it’s rhetoric. You hope so anyway. Akechi continues, “I told you that already. [y/n], I never meant to push you aside.”
“Well you did, Akechi.” You quip swiftly, “And it was pretty damn easy for you to do so.”
Akechi sighs. It’s a sound you’ve gotten used to. Pent up stress, anger, disappoint — you don’t even know yourself. His eyes now are always hollow, a deep contrast to the honey brown orbs you remember. The same eyes that would swish with emotion and glitter under the fairy lights in your room. The same eyes you could look into and trust.
They’re not there anymore.
“This life I built.” Akechi licks his lips, “Building. It’s always had you in it. You’re the piece that’s missing.”
Your eyes linger on the chess board that’s discarded on the table. A silent storm rages inside you. Are you meant to be a pawn in his game, one that’s pliant and moves as he pleases?
“I see.” Akechi watched as you rise from the sofa. He follows you almost tirelessly, as if he’s used to falling into step with you. It’s almost laughable. If you remember right, you’re the one who had to run after him.
Akechi protests lightly as he watches you grab your school blazer and shrug off the slippers he had spent time maintaining. They thwap against the wall sharply, falling limply over his line of smart shoes. You tsk at the sight.
“I’m nothing more than a chess piece to you, Akechi. Build your life without me and save me the excuses.”
“I think you’re taking this entirely out of proportion.” Akechi voices. You’re almost red in the face as you fumble with the laces of your school shoes, hands shaking as you try to level your emotions.
“How am I meant to take it? You want me to just sit and wait for you like some…” Your mind blanks, “Some… Dog? Is that all I am to you?”
Akechi guffaws, “You are nothing close to a dog, [y/n]. I have no idea where you’ve pulled this from.”
You tie your laces a little too tight, but you ignore the tension rising on your foot. You have to get out of here.
“Maybe your new friends are planting things in your head.” Akechi shrugs. You still.
Had he been spying on you?
“New friends? Tell me Akechi, have you been fucking watching me?” Your mouth curls into a frown. Akechi simply blinks, unaffected by your anger. Seemingly your last few fights had desensitised him to the sight.
“You’re not as invisible as you think you are.” He almost smirks. He sounds so cocky but you know for a fact he has gone out of his way to spot you considering how busy his field of work is.
Akechi steps forward, closing the already small space between you both. Despite your heart racing, you stand firm with your hands clenched tightly by your sides.
“Tell me.” Akechi practically purrs as he twiddles a strand of your hair between his nimble fingers, “Just how close are you to that criminal scum transfer student?”
“W-What?” You gape. Akechi’s soulless eyes seem to darken as he takes in your shocked expression. He exhales sharply as a small quirk lifts at the corner of his lips. His fingers drop your hair in favour of tapping your chin, “Close your mouth, pretty girl.”
“You’ve been watching me.” You mumble, eyes downcast. Your earlier fury had simmered to a level fear. Just how much had Akechi seen? How long had he trailed you for?
“I’m a detective. My job is to watch.” He replies. His forefinger and thumb grip your chin, using the leverage to angle your head to look at his face only.
His chocolate brown locks cascade over his face, framing it almost ethereally. Even with the state of your relationship you still can’t help but find Akechi attractive. Even if you’re slightly scared of him.
“Do me a favour and stop hanging out with Kurusu, okay?”
Later that night, your phone seemed to blow up. You had been in a state of panic, shock and general anxiousness since leaving Akechi’s apartment. What else are you meant to feel when your (basically) ex-boyfriend admits he’s been keeping tabs on you without you knowing?
「 Hey. You free tomorrow? 」
「 Jazz Jinn has a special singer on tomorrow. Want to come with me? 」
Your fingers fumble with your phone. Akechi’s words from earlier rattle in your head as you stare at Akira’s icon. His cute little emoticon and ID image stare into your soul. A soul crushing feeling of guilt begins to crawl up your throat, seemingly stealing the air in your lungs.
You swallow back your nausea as you reply.
can’t you ask someone else?
The hair on your neck rises as you make your way to school. Each twist, turn and slight fumble in your journey has you reeling as you picture Akechi watching you from a corner you can’t quite see. Instead of the tranquil calm you’ve come to associate with travelling to school, an anxious pit builds and crawls its way through your chest to your throat. You swallow back the nerves but they seem to just get stuck in your chest.
You favour to not play your music, instead you grip the handrail with dear life as your eyes jump around the carriage. Would Akechi be insane enough to get on your train too?
This is so pathetic, you think, I’m letting Akechi control me again.
“[y/n]!” A mewl causes you to snap from your daze. Your eyes filter through the faces on the carriage before settling on the seats beside you. Akira and Morgana are smushed into the corner seat, smiling up at you despite their uncomfortable positions. Akira seems to be stuffing a book in his bag.
“O-oh, heys guys.” You greet awkwardly. Akira frowns a little at your scattered expression. Your usually soft expression is replaced by a furrowed brow and pouted lips.
Akira clears his throat, blinking languidly “Are you okay? You seem a bit…off.”
The train comes to slow halt. You look up at the screen, thankfully it’s displaying your stop.
“Just tired. Gotta get off here!” You laugh with obvious force behind it. Akira doesn’t seem convinced but he follows behind you without any other word.
Morgana glances at Akira, watching as you disappear into the crowd. He grumbles, “[y/n] is being weird.”
Akira sighs, pushing his glasses further up his nose. They seemed to slip down his nose when he was reading a book about tool proficiency.
He falls into the crowd easily. In his short time here he had learned the game of the subway station crowds. Despite it looking so chaotic, there’s a hidden rhythm to getting through the crowd without being squashed.
“Maybe something happened.” Akira shrugs. He knows it’s really not his business to get involved but he knows his friendship with you cannot progress if your mind is scattered. Maybe he has to hang out with you more to get you to open up.
Morgana fusses, “I don’t like it. Do you think she’ll still go to Jazz Jinn with you tonight?”
Akira nods, assured by his own confidence.
You chew the tip of your pen absentmindedly. The letters on your homework slowly started to blend together as your eyes got tired with the sight of so many problems.
“Hey. You coming?” Your eyes slowly un-blur as Ann sets a hand on your desk. You follow from her prettily manicured nails, up her arm and eventually settle on her face. She smiles at you, but there’s a soft worry swirling in her ocean blue eyes.
You look around. Most students have already filtered out of the classroom, the others still packing their bags. You blink, “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”
Ann frowns, “You’ve been zoning out a lot today, are you okay?”
You reassure Ann softly, busying yourself with stuffing your things in your bag so she can’t study your face to see that you’re actually lying right through your teeth at her. She taps away on her phone, casting you a glance very few seconds.
“I heard you’re going to Jazz Jinn with Akira later.” She adds, stalling you. You glance sideways at her as you zip your bag closed. Her plump, pink lips curve into a teasing smile as she clicks her phone closed, “Don’t look so shocked. He told me!”
You blink, shifting so you can pull your bag over your right shoulder. Ann’s small smile turns into a cheery one as she throws an arm around your shoulder, “What are you gonna wear? Can’t go in your uniform.”
“Um… clothes? That I usually wear?” You reply. You’re thoroughly puzzled. Why is Ann bringing this up suddenly? Your mind races.
Oh God… Does she think this is a date?
“Ugh, as if! It’s a date — you have to dress up!” Ann laughs. Your mouth opens in shock, “W-What? It’s not a date!”
“Not a date?” Ann echoes as she weaves you through the crowd of students, “Then why did he ask me what to wear?”
You want to shush her. What if Akechi is listening? What if he’s here?
You fumble over yourself as you over-explain that it is definitely not a date and just something you and Akira started doing. Maybe he just asked about clothes because it’s an actual gig on tonight? Ann rolls her eyes and gives in, but her sideways smirk tells you otherwise.
“Whatever. We’ll talk about this later.” Ann changes the subject, “Remember the guy I said was watching us in the subway? I saw him again.” Oh yeah. There’s two people watching you.
“Seriously? How creepy…” You reply. Ann hums in agreement. You sigh as a million thoughts rattle in your skull.
The subway station is as busy as usual. If you can survive the Shibuya crossing you can survive this mess. The two of you are practically experts in dodging the crowds of sleazy businessmen with heavy briefcases and school kids with nowhere better to hang out than in the middle of the platforms.
You step onto an escalator that takes you down a floor to the train you need to get. You turn around, expecting Ann to be behind you but your breath gets caught in your throat.
“Shh…” A finger covers the coy smile of the boy behind you. A baseball cap is for snug over the mop of hair framing his face, a dark shadow casting over most of his distinguishing features. However, you’re caught on the familiar sight of brown leather gloves.
“Akechi…” You whisper. He smiles, tilting his head back to allow you to see his face better. He’s still wearing his usual tan trench coat, but it’s buttoned to cover his work uniform. Anything identifying.
“I told you I’m always watching.” He replies smoothly. You glance back at the other side of the escalator. Ann is happily chewing away at her gum, watching the crowd in front of her.
Why did she get on the other side?
“What are you doing?” You’re completely baffled. It’s barely past 3pm and Akechi is already on your tail. His hand fixes the tongue of the cap to ensure it’s still covering his features.
“Had to check up on my favourite girl.” He replies. You roll your eyes, heat rushing to your face. There’s other people in Shujin uniforms all around you and you will be positively humiliated if they heard a man say that to you. You reach forward to smack his hand sharply, but he catches it.
He leans closer, “I also wanted to make sure you’re still listening to me.”
Right. Stop hanging around with Kurusu. There’s no way he knows about Jazz Jinn later.
You open your mouth to reply but you’re quickly manhandled by Akechi to look forward. You almost miss your step to step off the escalator, stumbling as you regain your posture.
“[y/n]! Are you okay? Did your foot get caught?” Ann’s hands grab your arms to steady you. You blink, head whipping around. Akechi is gone.
“W-Why didn’t you get on with me?” You ask breathlessly. Ann flusters a little, “I thought I was! The girl in front of me had a Shujin uniform on with the same hair as you!”
You laugh lightly at that.
Jazz Jinn is terrifyingly busy. You feel slightly overdressed too for something that’s not meant to be a date. If it was up to you, you would’ve thrown on a pair of jeans and a nice top but Ann insisted she come over and help you. Now you’re wearing one of her pretty jumpers and a black skirt you’re almost sure you threw out a year ago.
“You made it!” Akira hums as you dander over to the table. He text you that he picked a table closer to the singer for better ambiance but you’re honestly quite terrified of how in the open it is.
You smile shakily, “Somehow.” Akira laughs a little at that. You’re sure he can’t tell how awkward you’re feeling.
“I ordered you a drink. I hope you don’t mind.” Akira motions at the tall glass in front of you. You smile at the gesture. It’s a tall, dark liquid with a cherry balanced on the sugared rim. You’re pretty sure you’ve had it before and you’re mouth waters at the sight of sweetly sour beverage.
“Thanks, Akira.” You nod, hand clamping around the base of the cup. He nods back, tipping his glass towards yours to signify a silent cheers. You comply, copying his actions.
“Oh. No Morgana?” You pause, realising the boy is without his usual companion. He blinks softly, a sheepish look dawned on his face. You swear you see a flush start to spread on his cheeks despite the dim lighting.
His hand rubs the back of his neck, “U-Uh, I left him at home. I hope you don’t mind.”
Right. This is feeling more and more like a date now…
You’re glad the singer is setting up now. You focus your attention on how the band gets into place, finding relief in the dim lighting. Hopefully Akira can’t see how awkward you look as you’re sure it’s written all over your face.
“I’m sorry if I made it weird.” Akira blurts. You glance over at him, shocked by his worried expression. His nimble fingers push his glasses further up his nose, “Ann told me it sounded like I asked you on a date.”
Your fingers still around your glass. You sigh, eyes darting between your cup and his face. Akira isn’t bad looking and God, if Akechi wasn’t in your head maybe you’d enjoy this.
“It’s nothing like that.” You attempt to quell Akira’s anxiety, “Like… I wouldn’t mind if it was.”
Akira’s head perks up. You almost feel bad as you continue, “But…I have stuff. Right now.”
Should I have just spat in his face? I’m an awful person. Way to make him feel better.
“Stuff?” Akira asks. You nod.
The singer takes over, cutting through the blanket of silence that falls between you and Akira. You busy yourself with finishing the mocktail, mind wandering back to Akira. You can see how he barely pays attention to his drink, rather focusing on twiddling with the decorative umbrella.
What was meant to be a good, tranquil 30 minute performance turns into a 30 minute trial of complete and utter torture. A part of you wants the ground to swallow you up. Akira can’t even look at you.
The singer finished with a round of applause and the rook returns to its regular chatter. Akira is still fiddling with his umbrella.
“I’m sorry, Akira. I should’ve worded that better.” You squeeze out. Your heart is pounding. You don’t want to reject Akira.
Does this count as rejecting? How do I tell him that the guy I basically dated is probably in here watching us and he told me to not hang out with you? How do I tell you that you’re actually completely my type but I still probably like my new-found stalker?
“Is stuff code-word for that guy? Akechi?”
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