Chapter Text
“How long have we been at this?” Akira asks into the silence of Leblanc. Akechi blows gently on his coffee remaining quiet. It’s getting late and Akira knows that Akechi will vanish again dodging his questions just like he always does. Akira wants to know. He needs to know. How long Akechi has been trying to set things right, how many times he’s gone through the same conversations, gotten close to breaking the cycle.
“I already told you,” Akechi mutters into his cup. “Fifteen.”
“Is that really all?” Akira presses. Akechi raises an eyebrow at him. A mixture of annoyance and curiosity on his face. He’s slowly gotten used to the fact that Akechi is no longer hiding behind that kind facade. Yet, despite being more unhinged, caring less, somehow he remains reserved and soft spoken. Akira has chalked it up to a deep exhaustion that only Akechi would know about.
When Akechi doesn’t appear to plan on answering the question, he decides to ask one he hasn’t before.
“Have we gotten close to breaking this cycle before?”
Akechi hums as he sets his cup down. His fingers steepled together with a frown on his face. Thinking about if they had or if he should answer his question? Akira wishes he could read him better. Akechi said he used to be able to read him very well. That was apparently before Akira’s memories were reset completely.
“A few times, yes,” Akechi replies.
“When we lost those, was that when I lost my memory?”
Akechi purses his lips and stares at his hands, “Your memory loss of the previous cycles was gradual. As your friends one by one began to forget that the cycles existed, you lost a piece of your memory until there was nothing left to remember.”
The ravenhead pauses his cleaning contemplating his next question. “Why don’t you lose your memory?”
He shrugs, “I’ve asked myself that before. Why me ? Why not you whose decisions and actions seem to be the only thing that moves us forward in time?”
“Your actions impact the time too—”
“My death sets us back . Listen to what I’m saying,” Akechi snaps, rolling his eyes at Akira’s failed attempt to console him. Suddenly, he’s reminded of everything Akechi has ever said prior to his many last moments. “Your actions, your words, your choices have always been the only thing that moves us forward.”
“If you chose to come with us instead of fighting us, I’m sure that would change something.”
Akechi laughs, Akira glares at him. It’s mocking, demeaning in a way that only Akechi could pull off. He bites back the urge to ask what’s so funny, Akechi will tell him anyway.
“It has, but look at where we are,” Akechi smirks.
“I don’t want to see you die again,” Akira changes his approach.
“And I don’t feel like dying. Despite what I’ve said, I do feel pain. Shocking, I know,” he hands Akira his cup. That doesn’t necessarily make Akira feel better about any of this, but he knows that isn’t Akechi’s intention. Making Akira feel better is not on his priorities at the moment. He's certainly attempted that in the past only to be dragged right back to the same spot. Have they had this conversation before?
Akira takes the cup, “So your scheme to kill me?”
“Does it matter? We lose if I kill you, we lose if I don’t.”
“I’m confused—”
“Join the club,” Akechi pulls out his phone and frowns at it. Akira wonders which one it is, work or Shido? “I have to go.”
“Are you okay?” Akira dares to ask knowing he won’t get a straight— or at least honest answer from him. Never has when he asked that question. Akechi simply smiles, one that doesn’t reach his eyes and nods. Both a dismissal and a farewell.
Akira hates their conversations now. They used to be easy and carefree, now he’s constantly walking on eggshells. Their conversations rough, abrupt, almost jarring. Akira almost wishes he never became cognizant of what was happening around them, at least, kind of. He’s still not sure how or why any of this is happening. He hasn’t a clue why the universe has decided to reset itself any time either Akechi or he dies, and yet, he’s grateful for the second, or third, or tenth, or however many chances they’ve granted him. Obviously, someone or something wants them to get it right.
Now it’s just a matter of convincing Akechi to care again. After so many times of going through this, even he might have ended up like Akechi. The ebb and flow of memories between him and his friends. One day they all remember, the next day half of them hate him again. Akira can’t imagine, nor does he want to have to go through it. He’s determined this time to beat this.
He wonders how many times he thought this .
Regardless, he shakes his head and Morgana jumps up onto one of the stools.
“He’s not making this easy,” Morgana mumbles. “We can’t beat this thing if he’s not going to tell us anything.”
“I wonder if that’s intentional,” Akira sighs. “If he’s told us before and failed, maybe us going in blind again is his attempt at trying something different.”
“Well, it’s not doing much right now,” Morgana huffs. “Besides, what is he going to do about Shido? Is he still going to kill Haru’s father? How far back in time has he gone?” Morgana pauses and glares at the door, “I wonder if he even regrets what he did to Futaba’s mom and Haru’s dad.”
Akira wants to believe that he does. He wants to believe that Akechi truly wanted to fix his past mistakes. One of their conversations seemed to hint at his regret. At his wish to restart and not do what he had done. Knowing what he does of mementos, of Shido, of his own demise, would he still repeat everything that he did if he restarted all the way to when he was sixteen? Would the loop have broken if he didn’t kill Wakaba?
Akira’s tempted to call him, to ask him that, but he doesn’t think he’ll get a straight answer. Akechi never does, not anymore.
There are so many questions he wants to ask him.
How far back have you gone?
Would you do everything again?
Akira hates the last question more than anything. Hates that it was by far the most annoying question that pops up in his head. Would Akechi even answer that honestly?
“We should ask him,” Morgana suddenly says, jolting Akira from his thoughts and he prays he hasn’t said anything out loud without noticing. “Ask him about Futaba’s mom and Haru’s dad.”
“Right.”
“Away from them. Last thing we need is them reacting to everything he says. Especially if it’s not necessarily the truth.”
The last part is said with evident annoyance. The conversation from earlier driving them all in an uncomfortable position of not knowing whether Akechi is being truthful or not. He hates it. Absolutely hates it.
"You're… you are together aren't you?" Morgana asks hesitantly. Akira almost doesn't know how to answer. After finding out everything, their relationship has been tense. Friendship and otherwise.
"I think so."
"You think so?" Morgana furrows his brow in concern.
"In the last cycle, before…" before Akechi died . "...we were. I don't… I don't know about now."
He wants so bad for them to stay together though. Maybe though, he doesn't mean nearly as much to Akechi as he does to him. He tries not to let that get to him but—
"You need to talk about that too," Morgana says firmly. "I can tell it's bothering you."
There were so many things to talk about. Too many things. His head hurt. Morgana looked at him sympathetically.
"This is way more than any of us bargained for. You should go to bed early today," Morgana stretched. "You look tired, Akira."
He is. So he nods, no one is coming in at this point, the sky is dark now. He closes up the store and trudges up the staircase to his room and suddenly registers the buzzing of his phone. How long has that been going on? Morgana frowns.
"You need to sleep," Morgana insists. "You're out of it, Akira."
"Yeah," he crawls into bed and looks at his phone. Over a hundred in the group chat, two from Akechi. He opens Akechi's.
Will you be free tomorrow?
Let me know.
The easy answer is yes , but he has to wonder if it will be any different than today. Now, more than ever, Akira is having a hard time discerning Akechi’s intentions. He hates it, the space between them.
Why?
Akira replies before going to the Phantom Thieves chat and seeing what they’ve been talking about. A lot of it… has to do with Akechi and the loop. Confusion abound within the group and Akira is left trying to pick up the pieces.
He doesn’t want to engage, but he’s their leader. Just… his mind is so scrambled he doesn’t think he can’t put any of them at ease. From Makoto and Yusuke’s reasoning, to Ryuji and Futaba’s exclamations, Akira really doesn’t know which to tackle first.
Morgana sighs, “Akira, you can deal with it tomorrow. They can live without you for a couple of hours.”
“They’ll want to hear how it went with Akechi.”
“You obviously need time to process everything,” Morgana reasons. “Plus, it’s obvious this is affecting you more because of your relationship with him. Take your time.”
Maybe . Morgana is right, but Akira knows that when he sleeps he’ll have nightmares. He hates it. He doesn’t really think he has that much time to process things anyway.
His phone goes off. Four new messages from Akechi.
Things have been… off between us lately.
I haven’t been approachable.
I apologize. I’m just tired, Akira.
I’ll be better tomorrow .
Akechi doesn’t owe him an apology. If anything, Akira should apologize to him for failing him so many times. He wonders how many times they’ve had this conversation. How old is this conversation? Is it older than him now?