The morning sunlight filtered through Y/N's curtains, painting the room in soft golds and oranges. Her alarm clock buzzed softly on her nightstand, a familiar sound that pulled her from sleep. With a groggy groan, she reached out to silence it, her body reluctant to leave the warmth of her blankets.

Rolling over, she grabbed her phone and blinked at the bright screen. As always, Akechi's name was at the top of her notifications.

>>Akechi: Good morning. I trust you're as punctual as always?

She smiled, her fingers flying across the screen to reply.

>>Y/N: of course!

>>Y/N: i wouldnt wanna tarnish my perfect record

Her reply sent, she set her phone down and stretched, her mind wandering briefly to the previous evening. The memory of his lips against hers—the way he had looked at her, like she was the only steady thing in his world—lingered in her thoughts. Her chest felt warm and tight at the same time. Akechi was a mystery, full of contradictions, but he was also someone she couldn't help but trust, even when it felt like there were pieces of him she might never understand.

Shaking off the haze of her thoughts, Y/N climbed out of bed and began her routine. It was the same as it always was: brushing her teeth, washing her face, and picking out her uniform. Yet, this morning, everything felt a little different. Her movements were more thoughtful, her mind quieter.

She grabbed her school bag, slinging it over her shoulder before making her way to the kitchen for a quick breakfast. Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced at it to see a second message from Akechi.

>>Akechi: I'm outside. No rush.

She smiled, slipping her phone into her pocket and grabbing her shoes. Outside, the sun was shining, the crisp morning air waking her fully as she locked the door behind her and walked toward his car.

As she opened the passenger door and slid into the seat, Akechi looked up from his phone, his expression softening at the sight of her.

"Good morning," he greeted, his voice smooth and composed, though there was a subtle warmth in his tone that she had come to recognize.

"Good morning," she replied, smiling as she settled in and buckled her seatbelt.

His car smelled faintly of cologne and leather, a scent she had grown used to in their daily drives. As he pulled away from the curb, the quiet hum of the engine filled the space between them.

The car hummed softly beneath them as Akechi pulled away from Y/N's house, the quiet rhythm of the morning routine lulling them into a kind of serenity. The streets were bathed in a pale gold light, the early sun catching on the frost of car windows and the edges of rooftops. The city was slowly stirring awake, but in the cocoon of his car, it was as if they existed in a world separate from the noise of the waking day.

Y/N glanced out the window, watching pedestrians shuffle to their destinations, coffee cups in hand, scarves pulled high against the morning chill. Despite the calm of the scenery, her attention kept drifting back to Akechi. There was something different about him today, a quiet energy that felt almost vulnerable. She couldn't shake the memory of last night—the way his voice had trembled just slightly when he spoke of his mother, the way his arms had tightened around her as if holding on would ease the weight he carried.

She glanced at him, studying his profile. His hands rested on the wheel with his usual precision, his fingers long and elegant but gripping the leather just a little too tightly. The sharp angles of his face softened in the morning light, and his expression, though composed, carried a trace of something unspoken.

"Did you sleep okay?" she asked gently, breaking the silence.

Akechi's gaze flicked toward her briefly before returning to the road. "I did," he replied, his tone calm but carrying the faintest hint of something she couldn't quite place. "It was... a restful night, surprisingly."

She smiled faintly, recalling his words from the previous evening. "Good. I'm glad to hear that."

He didn't respond immediately, his silence stretching just long enough to feel deliberate. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, almost reflective. "I suppose... I hadn't realized how much I needed the company. Yours, specifically."

Her heart fluttered at the confession, the warmth in his tone catching her off guard. "You don't have to thank me for that," she said softly. "I'm happy to be there for you, Akechi. Always."

The corners of his mouth quirked into a faint smile. "Still, it bears mentioning. You have a way of... grounding me, even when I don't realize I'm untethered."

Y/N didn't know what to say to that, so she settled for a small smile, letting his words linger in the air between them. The honesty in his voice was rare, and she didn't want to disrupt the fragile peace it brought.

The car turned onto a busier street, and the steady flow of traffic brought a momentary pause to their conversation. Y/N turned her gaze back to the window, the cityscape passing by in a blur of muted colors. She wondered how many others were navigating their own battles this morning, their struggles hidden behind the mundanity of the daily commute.

"What about you?" Akechi's voice broke through her thoughts, his tone lighter now, almost teasing. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," she replied with a nod. "Though I stayed up a little later than I should have, thinking about... well, a lot of things."

He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised in mild curiosity. "A lot of things? That sounds suspiciously vague."

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Just the usual stuff. School, life... and maybe a little about our conversation."

Akechi's expression softened, though his hands tightened briefly on the wheel. "I hope I didn't burden you with too much," he said quietly.

"You didn't," she assured him quickly. "If anything, it made me appreciate... I don't know, the trust you have in me. It means a lot."

Akechi's jaw tensed slightly, and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought. When he spoke again, his voice carried a quiet intensity. "Trust is... a precarious thing, isn't it? It takes so long to build and only a moment to shatter."

Y/N tilted her head, watching him closely. "I guess so. But I think it's worth the risk. Don't you?"

He didn't answer right away, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Perhaps," he said finally, though the word carried a weight that made her chest ache.

The drive to school was quieter than usual, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Y/N kept her gaze on the passing streets, watching the city come alive with the morning bustle. Her thoughts wandered, dipping into the fleeting warmth of Akechi's smile that morning and the lingering echo of his voice when he'd said she was his healing factor. She hadn't known how to respond, but her heart had done a little flip at the sincerity in his tone.

Her thoughts were calm, focused on the car's rhythm and its engine's steady hum. It wasn't until she felt a shift that she realized Akechi had taken one hand off the wheel.

He reached over, his fingers brushing hers tentatively before slipping into her hand, and lacing them together. His grip was firm but not overwhelming, a subtle declaration that sent her heart fluttering. She glanced at him, her cheeks tingling with a blush, but Akechi kept his gaze on the road, his profile calm and unreadable.

For a moment, she thought about saying something, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she squeezed his hand lightly, a small gesture of acknowledgment. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the faintest curve of a smile on his lips and bit her own lip to stifle the grin threatening to break free.

The city's movement blurred by the windows, a mix of early sunlight filtering through trees and the murmur of distant traffic. The usual chatter between them was absent, but the silence didn't feel empty. It was filled with unspoken words and emotions neither of them seemed ready to voice, a delicate balance she didn't want to disrupt.

When Shujin Academy came into view, she noticed the small cluster of students at the gates. A few were clearly watching the car, whispering to each other and glancing back toward them. Y/N could recognize the energy even from a distance—it was the same every time Akechi dropped her off, the mix of awe and curiosity that followed him everywhere.

He eased the car to a smooth stop along the curb, pulling his hand away from hers to rest both on the steering wheel. Y/N immediately missed the warmth of his touch but didn't let it show. Instead, she turned to look at him, noting the faint sigh that escaped his lips as he leaned back in his seat.

"I would kiss you right now," he said suddenly, his voice a low murmur, "but my usual fanclub is standing right outside."

Her eyes widened for a moment before a laugh bubbled up, light and amused. She glanced at the group of students again, the sight of their expectant stares making her grin. "It's okay," she said, turning back to him. "You can kiss me later."

The words left her lips without much thought, but the reaction they drew was worth it. His usual composure faltered, his mouth opening slightly as if to respond, only for no words to come out. A faint pink tinged his cheeks, and his eyes darted away for a moment before returning to hers.

"L-Later?" he stammered, clearly caught off guard.

She tried to contain her laughter, but it spilled out anyway, filling the small space with warmth. "Yes, later. Don't look so shocked," she teased, her grin wide as she reached for the door handle.

Before she stepped out, she glanced back at him. "See you after school," she said brightly, offering him one last smile before closing the door behind her.

As she walked toward the school gates, she could feel the eyes of the students lingering on her, but she paid them no mind. Her thoughts were still back in the car, with his hand in hers and the way he'd looked so flustered at her teasing.

She resisted the urge to turn back and see if he was still watching her, but somehow, she knew he was.

The courtyard was already buzzing with life as Y/N made her way toward the building, the familiar energy of students mingling before class filling the air. But her focus wasn't on them. Her gaze landed on Ann, Ryuji, Makoto, Akira— and someone new, who she could only guess was also a new member, gathered in their usual spot by the fountain. They were smiling, laughing at something Ryuji had said, and for a moment, they looked picture-perfect: a group of close-knit friends, carefree and invincible.

But to Y/N, the image didn't sit right.

Her steps faltered briefly as a sour taste filled her mouth. That's how they'd looked when they changed hearts, too. When they'd infiltrated Kaneshiro's Palace. It was the same sense of camaraderie, the same lightness in their demeanor as if what they'd done was just another mission, another victory for their so-called justice.

But had it been justice?

Her hand tightened on the strap of her bag, and she felt a chill creep over her despite the warmth of the morning sun. They'd killed someone. That was the truth Akechi had shared with her yesterday, a truth that refused to leave her mind. They'd taken someone's life—a palace leader's, perhaps? That was the only connection she could make, but she didn't know for sure.

Her heart twisted as she remembered the way Akechi's voice had sounded when he told her. So matter-of-fact, but laced with something she couldn't name. Regret? Anger? Or something else entirely?

Her gaze lingered on Akira, his usual calm and collected aura standing out even as the others joked and gestured around him. Could it be true? Could he really be the one behind the mental shutdowns? It felt impossible, but the seed of doubt had been planted, and now it grew, its roots wrapping tightly around her chest.

What if she'd been wrong about all of them?

What if this wasn't justice at all?

The thought made her stomach churn, and she tore her eyes away from the group, instead focusing on the ground as she made her way into the building. Her steps quickened, as though putting distance between herself and them would help silence the storm in her head.

Y/N's thoughts raced. What if I've been working toward a greater evil rather than fighting it? The question clawed at her mind, refusing to let go. Everything she'd believed about the Phantom Thieves, about their mission, suddenly felt unstable, like a house of cards teetering on the edge of collapse.

She shook her head, trying to steady herself as she entered the hallway. I'm overthinking it. There has to be an explanation. But even as she told herself that, the doubt lingered, festering like an open wound.

The faces of her so-called friends flashed in her mind—Akira's sharp focus, Makoto's unwavering determination, Ann's empathy, Ryuji's brash enthusiasm. They weren't murderers. They couldn't be. Could they?

But then she remembered Okumura's death. She remembered Akechi's words. She remembered the haunting thought that Akira might have orchestrated all of it, playing a game far more sinister than she'd ever imagined.

By the time she reached her locker, her hands were trembling. She leaned against it, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Around her, the world moved on, oblivious to the turmoil churning inside her.

What am I supposed to believe? she thought, her heart aching as her mind warred with itself. What am I supposed to do now?

Y/N stood at her locker, trying to focus on the rhythm of the school day, but her mind remained tangled in a web of doubt and unease. She had barely begun to turn toward her classroom when a voice called out to her.

"Y/N! Hey!"

She glanced up to see Ann bounding toward her, her usual bright smile lighting up her face. For a moment, Y/N felt a flicker of normalcy, but it was quickly smothered by the memory of Akechi's words the day before.

"Hey, Ann," she said, managing a small smile in return.

Ann leaned casually against the lockers beside her, her tone warm and inviting. "It feels like it's been forever since we've really talked! How've you been? Everything okay?"

Y/N hesitated, the weight of her thoughts pressing against her chest. She forced herself to nod. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just... the usual, you know."

Ann tilted her head, studying her. "Are you sure? You seem kinda... off. Maybe a little stressed?"

For a second, Y/N almost considered telling her. Almost. But then she remembered the laughter by the fountain, the ease with which they all seemed to carry themselves after Okumura's death. She couldn't say anything. Not yet.

"I'm fine," Y/N said, her voice firmer this time. "Just tired, I guess."

Ann seemed to accept that, her smile returning. "Well, we should catch up! How about we hang out at lunch? I'll skip out with the others, and we can go to the rooftop—just us, like old times. What do you say?"

Y/N blinked, momentarily taken aback. Ann was offering to set aside her time with the group for her? It felt strange, unexpected even. But Ann's enthusiasm was hard to refuse, and Y/N found herself nodding before she'd fully processed the request.

"Yeah, sure. That sounds nice," she said, her voice automatic.

Ann grinned. "Great! I've missed hanging out with you, you know."

Y/N managed a soft laugh, though her mind was elsewhere. What would Akechi say if he knew I was spending time with them? she wondered, the thought filling her with a vague unease. But there was no point in overthinking it now.

Ann gave her a quick wave before heading toward her own class, leaving Y/N standing alone. She watched her go, a pang of guilt tightening in her chest. Ann had always been kind to her, always eager to make her feel included.

But kindness didn't erase the questions swirling in her mind.

With a small sigh, Y/N finally made her way to the classroom. She slipped into her usual seat, her gaze darting toward the door as she waited. Akira hadn't arrived yet, and for that, she was grateful. Seeing him now brought a strange mix of feelings—confusion, suspicion, even a tinge of fear.

The room buzzed with the usual chatter of students, but Y/N barely noticed. Her thoughts were too loud, too chaotic, filled with fragments of Akechi's voice and the lingering doubt that refused to let her go.

The door opened, and her heart skipped a beat as Akira walked in, his expression calm and composed as always. He nodded to a few classmates before heading to his seat near the window.

Y/N forced herself to look away, her hands gripping the edge of her desk as she tried to steady her breathing. Ann's offer echoed in her mind, a small comfort amidst the storm. For now, she had a plan—a simple, harmless lunch with a friend.

But as Akira settled into his seat, his presence casting a quiet shadow over the room, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that nothing about this was simple anymore.

Y/N stared blankly at the notebook open on her desk, the faint scratches of pencil marks barely making sense. Her mind wandered to the rooftop, to the conversation she'd have with Ann, to the uneasy tangle of doubts she carried.

The classroom buzzed faintly with the usual murmurs of students chatting before the teacher arrived. She kept her gaze down, not wanting to be pulled into anyone's orbit. But a soft whisper from a few seats away made her freeze.

Ann and Akira were leaning slightly toward one another, their voices low. At first, Y/N tried not to eavesdrop, but then a single word slipped through, cutting through her mental haze.

"...Akechi..."

Her head snapped up, almost on instinct. She blinked, forcing herself to keep her movements slow and casual, her eyes fixed on her notebook.

"I still can't believe you actually went," Ann whispered, her tone half-amused, half-incredulous.

Akira chuckled softly, his voice too quiet for Y/N to discern every word, but enough of the conversation reached her ears to piece it together.

"He just showed up out of nowhere," Akira said. "Said he wanted to unwind a little. Figured I'd tag along, see what he was about."

"An arcade, though?" Ann teased, her tone playful. "That doesn't really scream Akechi to me."

"Yeah, well," Akira muttered, a bit louder now, "he's full of surprises. And I think he wanted to check me out as much as I wanted to check him out."

Y/N's grip on her pencil tightened, her knuckles paling. She tried to keep her face neutral, her breathing steady, but her heart was pounding.

"Was he any good?" Ann asked, clearly entertained.

Akira laughed under his breath. "Good? He wiped the floor with me. It was kind of embarrassing."

"No way!" Ann stifled a giggle. "Akechi, Detective Prince, reigning champion of 8-ball. Who would've guessed?"

They both laughed quietly, the sound a soft ripple in the quiet classroom, but Y/N wasn't laughing. She stared at the page before her, her pencil frozen mid-word.

Akechi had spent a day at an arcade... with Akira? The thought churned in her mind, clashing against what she knew—or thought she knew.

Why would he spend time with them? she wondered. Was it part of his investigation? Some kind of manipulation? Or... was he just playing games?

She bit her lip, suddenly feeling unmoored. Akechi's words from the car yesterday rang in her head, cold and calculated. He'd been so certain, so deliberate in his accusations about the Phantom Thieves.

And yet, here he was, casually hanging out with Akira, the leader of the group he had condemned.

Her stomach twisted. She couldn't understand it. None of it made sense.

"...I don't know," Akira said, his voice softer now, more contemplative. "He's not as uptight as I thought he'd be. Kind of felt like there was more going on beneath the surface, though."

Ann hummed thoughtfully. "Well, you're the master of reading people, right? Maybe you'll figure him out."

"Maybe," Akira replied, his tone laced with a hint of curiosity.

Y/N's pen stilled on the page as their voices grew clearer, the usual hum of the classroom fading into the background.

"...I just don't get it," Morgana whispered harshly, his voice muffled but distinct. "How could she even trust him after everything?"

"She's her own person, Mona," Ann replied, her tone carrying a note of frustration. "You can't control who she cares about."

Akira leaned closer, his quiet voice cutting through. "It's not just about that. Akechi isn't... safe. He's dangerous, Ann. You've seen it as much as I have."

Ann sighed audibly, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "I know, okay? I get it. But maybe there's more to him than we realize."

Morgana scoffed. "More like he's using her. He probably sees her as another way to get to us. I mean, think about it. Why else would he bother?"

Y/N's heart sank, a cold weight settling in her chest. She gripped her notebook tighter, her fingers curling around the edges as her pulse quickened. She kept her gaze trained downward, not daring to move or draw attention to herself.

"She's smart, though," Ann added, her voice softer now. "She wouldn't just... fall for him if there wasn't something real there. Don't you think?"

Akira shook his head, a flicker of doubt crossing his usually calm expression. "I don't know, Ann. Akechi doesn't exactly have a great track record with honesty. And she..." His voice trailed off before he added more quietly, "She deserves better."

Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. The weight of their words pressed against her like a storm cloud, and she couldn't tell whether it was anger, guilt, or confusion that was bubbling to the surface.

"Don't you think you're being a little harsh?" Ann said, her voice more firm now. "You don't know what their relationship is like. Neither of us does. So maybe we should give her some credit."

"Giving Akechi credit is like handing him a loaded gun and hoping he doesn't pull the trigger," Morgana muttered darkly.

Ann let out an exasperated huff. "He's not a monster, Mona."

"He's not far from it," Akira interjected.

Y/N felt her stomach churn at their words, the sharpness of them like a dagger twisting in her chest. She wanted to say something, to stand up and defend Akechi, but her voice refused to come.

The bell rang, jolting her from her thoughts as the classroom began to stir with movement. Ann turned to Akira, giving him a pointed look. "Maybe you should actually talk to her instead of assuming things," she said before grabbing her bag and walking toward the door.

Y/N remained in her seat, her thoughts swirling as the others filed out of the classroom. Ann's words echoed in her mind, offering a faint glimmer of reassurance amidst the storm of doubt.

But even so, the seeds of their disapproval had been planted, and she wasn't sure how to shake the weight of them.

As the bell rang, Y/N gathered her things with deliberate slowness, hoping the others would leave before she had to interact with them. But when she glanced up, her gaze locked with Ann's. The blonde gave her a small, tentative smile and tilted her head toward the door.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then stood, her legs feeling heavier than usual as she followed Ann out of the classroom. They walked in silence, weaving through the hallways and up the stairs toward the rooftop. The quiet between them wasn't entirely uncomfortable, but it carried an edge, as if Ann were waiting for the right moment to speak.

When they finally stepped onto the rooftop, the crisp air greeted them, carrying the faint scent of autumn leaves. Y/N set her bag down near the usual spot they'd claimed for lunch in the past, but before she could sit, Ann groaned loudly, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

"Ugh, Makoto has been insufferable lately," she blurted, her tone a mix of irritation and exhaustion.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sudden outburst. She tilted her head. "Makoto?"

Ann flopped down onto the bench, leaning back with a dramatic sigh. "Yeah. Ever since Akira and Akechi started hanging out, she's been hovering. Like, she's always suspicious of him anyway, but now it's like she's taken it up a notch. It's exhausting."

Y/N slowly lowered herself onto the bench beside Ann, unsure of how to respond. "What do you mean?"

Ann crossed her arms, her lips pursing as she thought. "I don't know. She keeps saying stuff like, 'We need to watch Akechi closely,' or 'We can't trust him.' Like, yeah, we get it, but it's not like she's the only one with an opinion. It's like she thinks we're all clueless about how dangerous he could be."

Y/N felt her chest tighten at Ann's words. The doubt she'd been trying to suppress clawed its way back to the surface, coiling around her thoughts like a vice.

Ann tilted her head back to stare at the sky. "Don't get me wrong, I know she means well. But it's like, every time Akira tries to give Akechi a chance, she's right there reminding him of all the reasons he shouldn't." She glanced at Y/N, her expression softening. "I just wish she'd let it go for five minutes, you know?"

Y/N nodded slowly, her mind racing. "Does Akira feel the same way?" she asked quietly.

Ann shrugged. "I think he's trying to keep the peace, like always. But you know how he is—he doesn't talk about stuff unless he has to. He's probably as stressed as the rest of us, though. The whole group's been on edge lately."

Y/N bit her lip, her gaze drifting to the rooftop's edge. The weight of Ann's words settled heavily on her, mingling with the thoughts she'd been grappling with all morning. If even Akira, the leader of the Phantom Thieves, was willing to give Akechi a chance, then why did it feel like the rest of the world was so eager to condemn him?

"Hey... you know how you said Makoto's been talking about Akechi and me?"

Ann froze mid-stretch, her arms falling back to her lap as her eyes widened. "Oh my God, yes," she said, leaning closer as if they were about to exchange top-secret intel. "You have no idea how hard it's been not to bring this up sooner."

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by Ann's enthusiasm. "What do you mean?"

Ann sighed dramatically, flipping her hair over one shoulder. "Okay, so you didn't hear this from me," she started, her tone conspiratorial, "but Makoto's been obsessed with the whole situation. Like, ever since you two became a thing, she's been going off about how it's a bad idea, how it's dangerous, and how it's going to backfire. You'd think she was your mom or something."

Y/N frowned, her stomach twisting at the thought. "What exactly has she been saying?"

Ann's brows knitted together as she tried to recall. "Well, she's mostly worried about Akechi's motives. Like, she keeps saying he's probably using you to get to us or something. And she's convinced he's still working with Shido, even though there's no proof of that."

Y/N's chest tightened. She'd expected some level of skepticism, but hearing it laid out like this made it harder to ignore. "Does everyone feel that way?"

Ann shook her head quickly. "No, not everyone. Ryuji's just... Ryuji. He's loud about not trusting him, but that's nothing new. Morgana's a little suspicious, but I think he's just trying to look out for you in his own weird way. And Akira..."

Y/N tensed, her breath catching. "What about Akira?"

Ann hesitated, her expression softening. "I think he's just confused. He wants to trust you—and Akechi—but it's complicated, you know? With everything that's happened, I think he's just trying to figure out where everyone stands."

Y/N looked down at her hands, her thoughts swirling. It wasn't like she hadn't expected some pushback, but knowing Makoto was actively against her relationship with Akechi stung more than she'd anticipated.

Ann broke the silence with a long sigh. "You know, things have been kind of... off with the team lately." She tilted her head back, staring up at the sky as if searching for an answer hidden in the clouds.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Off how?"

Ann shifted her weight, chewing on her lip. "I don't know, it's hard to explain. Ever since you stopped coming to Mementos and the missions, everything's felt... disconnected. Like we're not in sync anymore."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, and she had to force herself to stay composed. "You think it's because of me?"

Ann shook her head quickly, her blonde hair swaying with the motion. "No, no, it's not your fault or anything. It's just... Akira's been switching people around a lot lately. One second, it's me and Ryuji; the next, it's Makoto and Haru. And Haru's great, but she's new, and she's still figuring out how to fight. I mean, she's got that axe and all, but it's, like, a lot, you know?"

Y/N nodded silently, her thoughts swirling. She'd noticed Akira's shifting strategies before she stepped back from the team. It had seemed like an adjustment period at first, but now... maybe it was something deeper.

Ann continued, her voice lowering. "It's weird, though. When you were with us, it felt like we all just clicked, you know? Your Persona was like this glue holding everything together. You've got that steady thing about you—like you ground everyone."

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek, unsure how to respond. Do I? she thought. She'd always felt like she was playing catch-up, doing her best to keep pace with the others. The idea that her absence could leave such a noticeable void unsettled her.

Ann's brow furrowed as she crossed her arms. "I think Akira's trying to compensate. He's taking on more of the weight himself, which is just... classic Akira, I guess. But it's not working the way it used to. Ryuji gets frustrated, and Makoto—ugh."

Y/N glanced at her. "What about Makoto?"

Ann groaned, tipping her head back again dramatically. "She's so stiff lately! Like, she's taking this whole leadership thing way too seriously. It's like she thinks she has to keep everyone in line, but instead, it just makes everyone more tense. Don't get me wrong, I love her, but she's kind of driving me nuts."

Y/N's grip tightened on the edges of her lunchbox. Ann's words, paired with the conversation she'd overheard in class, replayed in her mind like a loop. The shifting dynamics, the tension within the team, Haru's inexperience—it all painted a picture she didn't want to look at too closely. And beneath it all was Akechi's voice from the night before, echoing in her head like a haunting refrain. They killed someone.

Ann didn't seem to notice her growing unease. She rubbed the back of her neck, looking more frustrated than upset. "Honestly, I think we just need to get through this Okumura thing and regroup. Haru's trying, but we're all out of step, and it's not helping that Akira keeps changing things up."

Ann let out a loud, dramatic sigh, leaning her back against the railing of the rooftop. She stared out over the school grounds, the wind catching strands of her blonde hair and blowing them around her face. "And– you know what really bugs me?" she started, crossing her arms over her chest.

Y/N glanced up from her untouched lunch, her brow raising in mild curiosity. "What?"

"It's never just us anymore," Ann said, a hint of exasperation lacing her words. She turned her head to look at Y/N, her expression caught between frustration and nostalgia. "Me, Ryuji, and Akira—we used to have this thing, you know? Like, our own rhythm. We'd go out, do stupid stuff, joke around... it was fun. We were just—" she paused, searching for the right word, "us."

Y/N nodded slowly, letting Ann continue.

"But now, it's like Makoto's gotta be there all the time. Everything feels so formal when she's around. Like we're not allowed to just let loose and have fun anymore. She's always reminding us to be careful, or to focus, or whatever. It's exhausting." Ann huffed, kicking lightly at the ground. "And it's not like Akira will say anything. He's Akira. He just goes along with it, like he's fine with her taking over everything."

Y/N tilted her head, considering Ann's words. She could hear the tension beneath them, the longing for how things used to be before everything got more complicated.

Ann crossed her arms tighter, her frustration growing. "It's like Makoto thinks she's gotta babysit us or something. She's always talking about strategy this, responsibility that—ugh. I miss when it was just about having fun with Ryuji and Akira. When it felt like we were equals, you know?"

Y/N looked down at her lunch, a small crease forming between her brows. She could understand Ann's frustration. Makoto's presence was undeniably commanding; she brought structure to the group, but that same structure could feel stifling at times.

Ann sighed again, softer this time, and her tone shifted. "I know it's not fair to blame her, though. I mean, she's got a lot on her plate, too. It's just... I miss how simple things were before."

"Before Haru?" Y/N asked quietly, testing the waters.

Ann blinked, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. Haru's sweet, and Futaba's awesome, but it's like... the more people there are, the less it feels like us, you know?" She paused, her voice dropping. "And now you're not even there anymore. It's like everything's falling apart."

Y/N's heart sank at Ann's words, guilt pricking at her skin like needles. She wanted to say something, to reassure her friend, but the words stuck in her throat.

Ann straightened up, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Sorry, I'm ranting. I just needed to get that out." She gave Y/N a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thanks for listening."

"Of course," Y/N said softly. She wanted to say more, to tell Ann that things would get better, but she wasn't sure she believed it herself. Instead, she turned her gaze back to the horizon, letting the silence settle between them.

In the back of her mind, Akechi's words lingered, intertwining with Ann's frustrations. They killed someone. The thought gnawed at her, growing heavier with each passing moment. What was falling apart wasn't just the group's dynamic—it was everything.

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Ann. Her thoughts churned with unease, but she forced herself to speak. "When... when do you think the CEO will confess?" she asked, her voice quieter than she'd intended.

Ann tilted her head, considering the question. "Not sure," she admitted, fiddling with the hem of her blazer. "I mean, it's gotta be soon, right? Akira mentioned something about it yesterday. Said it's usually not long after we take the treasure. But..." She trailed off, a faint frown tugging at her lips.

"But what?" Y/N pressed gently, her unease deepening.

Ann sighed, brushing her hair back with one hand. "I don't know. It's just weird this time. I can't explain it, but something about it didn't sit right with me."

Y/N glanced at her, surprised by the admission. Ann's usual confidence was dimmed, replaced with something more vulnerable. She wanted to say something to comfort her, but the sound of the bell ringing cut through the moment.

Ann pushed off the railing and stretched, her usual carefree smile returning. "Well, back to the grind, huh?"

Y/N swallowed hard, her mind flashing to Akechi's words. They killed someone. She pushed the thought away, not wanting to spiral, and instead tried to focus on Ann's response.

They walked together down the stairs, the conversation still lingering in the air. As they reached the hallway, Ann suddenly turned to her with a mischievous grin. "Oh! I almost forgot to tell you—me and the others are going to DestinyLand soon. You know, that theme park? Akira managed to get us all tickets."

Y/N forced a smile. "That sounds fun. Are you excited?"

"Totally," Ann said with a laugh. "I'll try to grab you a little gift while I'm there. Something cute, maybe a keychain or something."

"Thanks, Ann," Y/N said softly, her heart sinking a little. She appreciated the gesture, but the mention of the group's outing felt like another reminder of her growing distance from them.

Ann waved as they reached their classroom. "See you after school!"

Y/N waved back and slid into her seat, her mind elsewhere as the teacher began to drone on. The rest of the day passed in a haze, the hours blurring together as her thoughts tangled into a web of doubts and worries. She barely registered the bell ringing at the end of the day until her phone buzzed with a message.

>>Akechi: I'm here.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she gathered her things, stepping into the crisp afternoon air. There he was, waiting by his car, a composed smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Akechi caught sight of her, and his faintly impatient fidgeting stopped. He opened the door for her without a word, his usual polished demeanor intact.

"Good afternoon," he said smoothly as she slid into the passenger seat.

"Hey," she replied softly, her smile lingering as she settled into her seat.

The door clicked shut, muffling the noise of the outside world. The whispers and stares faded into irrelevance at the moment she was inside, like distant static. Akechi returned to the driver's side, his movements calculated and precise as always.

Akechi sighed, his lips curving into a wry smile. "And here we are, back to reality," he said, turning the car on.

Y/N buckled her seatbelt and turned to him, her voice teasing. "You know, you really don't have to keep picking me up. You're going to cause a riot one of these days."

"Perhaps," he replied, his smirk returning. "But I like calling a little chaos now and then."

As the engine purred to life, Y/N glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He looked composed, as he always did, but she knew better. She could see the faint tension in his jaw, the slight way his fingers tapped the steering wheel before he gripped it firmly.

She didn't press him about it. Not yet. Instead, she let herself relax into the seat, her focus shifting to the fleeting quiet between them as the car rolled forward.

As the car smoothly glided away from the school, Y/N found herself staring out the window, letting her thoughts wander as the trees blurred past. It took her a few moments to realize that the familiar route home had shifted—Akechi had taken a turn down the quieter, more winding backroads. She blinked, her gaze shifting to the passing scenery.

"Goro," she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice as she turned to look at him. "Where are we going?"

He glanced at her quickly, his face calm but his expression somewhat hesitant. "To Jazz Jin," he said smoothly, though there was a slight edge to his tone that made her suspect he wasn't as composed as he seemed.

"Jazz Jin?" she repeated, her voice softening.

"I..." He cleared his throat, visibly flustered now. "I merely thought... it was an appropriate choice. It's—well, it's quiet. Comfortable. Familiar."

She tilted her head at him, her smile growing as a warmth filled her chest. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I mean, we can just hang out anywhere and it'd be nice, but..." Her voice trailed off as she flushed, turning her gaze briefly back out the window.

Akechi, meanwhile, tensed visibly. His fingers tapped the wheel once, twice, before he clamped down on it again, his posture growing a bit too rigid. His jaw tightened, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something, but the words didn't come right away.

Y/N let out a soft laugh, the sound light and almost teasing, though not unkind. "You mean intimate," she said with a grin, leaning her head against the window as she watched him out of the corner of her eye.

His grip on the wheel tightened even more as his shoulders straightened awkwardly. "I wouldn't phrase it like that," he muttered, his voice lower now, and Y/N could swear she caught the faintest tint of pink on his cheeks.

She couldn't hold back her laugh this time, a genuine, soft sound that filled the car. "You don't have to get defensive, I was just curious."

"I am not—" Akechi began, only to stop himself as he exhaled sharply, his carefully constructed mask threatening to slip. He focused on the road ahead, his lips pressed into a tight line, though the redness in his cheeks betrayed him.

Y/N just smiled at him, her chest warm with affection. She leaned back in her seat, her gaze now fixed on him. "Thank you, Goro," she said softly, her voice carrying sincerity that made his chest tighten. "I love spending time with you. And Jazz Jin sounds perfect."

He didn't respond immediately, but she noticed the way his grip on the wheel relaxed just slightly, and how his expression softened for a fleeting moment.

The backroads soon gave way to familiar streets, and Y/N's smile lingered as they drove. She couldn't help but admire the effort he went to—even if he wouldn't admit it outright, it was clear that he'd chosen this for her. For them. And despite his stiff, awkward exterior, she could feel the quiet tenderness behind his actions.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You know," he started, his tone casual but tinged with irritation, "I don't usually let work get to me, but Nijima-San has been testing my patience lately."

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sudden mention of his coworker. "Sae Niijima? Makoto's sister?"

"Yes, the very same," he replied, sighing dramatically. His thumb idly brushed against her hand as he continued, "Excuse my French, but she's been a bit of a bitch lately."

Y/N couldn't help it—she giggled at his uncharacteristically blunt remark. The sound bubbled out of her before she could stop it, and she had to press a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter.

"Wow, Goro," she teased, her voice light. "You've been holding onto that one, huh?"

He cast her a sidelong glance, and despite the slight smirk on his face, there was no mistaking the exasperation in his tone. "I'm serious. She's relentless. It's like she's made it her personal mission to make my life as difficult as possible."

Y/N tilted her head, still smiling. "What did she do this time?"

"Oh, where do I even begin?" he muttered, shaking his head. "Let's see—there's the constant micromanaging, the endless critiques of my methods, and her uncanny ability to always know exactly when to call me when I'm in the middle of something important."

"Important, like...?" Y/N raised an eyebrow playfully, giving his hand a light squeeze.

"Like having lunch, or driving home, or..." He glanced at her pointedly, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Spending time with someone I actually enjoy being around."

Her cheeks flushed at that, and she looked out the window to hide the smile creeping across her face. "Well, maybe she's just jealous," she suggested lightly.

Akechi let out a dry laugh. "Jealous? Of what? My work ethic? My—" He cut himself off, his expression softening as he shook his head. "No, I think it's just who she is. She's under a lot of pressure with her own cases, and I suppose I'm an easy target for her frustration. Still, it's exhausting."

Y/N turned back to him, her expression thoughtful. "Have you ever told her how you feel about it? Maybe she doesn't realize how much she's getting under your skin."

He raised an eyebrow at her, his smirk returning. "You clearly haven't met Sae Niijima. She's not exactly the type to take feedback well."

Y/N laughed again, and the sound seemed to ease some of the tension in his shoulders.

"Well," she said softly, "You're doing better than I would. If she's anything like Makoto, I'd probably have snapped by now."

Akechi chuckled at that, his grip on her hand tightening briefly. "Well, if nothing else, I'm glad I have you to vent to. It's surprisingly therapeutic."

"Glad I could be of service," she replied with a grin.

The conversation lingered on Sae for a bit longer, Akechi recounting more of her antics with an exasperated fondness that made Y/N wonder if, deep down, he might have a grudging respect for her.

Eventually, they lapsed into a comfortable silence again, their hands still intertwined. The trees along the backroads cast dappled shadows over the car, and the soft rhythm of the tires against the pavement created a soothing backdrop.

The car came to a slow stop as they entered the heart of Kichijoji, the streets alive with the evening bustle. The sun was starting to set, casting the area in warm amber hues. Akechi expertly maneuvered the car into a parking space near the alley leading to Jazz Jin. The hum of the engine ceased, and for a moment, the two sat in comfortable silence, watching pedestrians pass by.

Y/N's hand lingered on her seatbelt, her eyes catching Akechi's profile as he glanced out the windshield. His expression seemed lighter now, more at ease than it had been earlier.

"We're here," he said softly, breaking the silence.

She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to him, her smile warm. "You really wanted to come here tonight, huh?"

He nodded, though there was a faint pink flush on his cheeks. "It's... familiar. Comfortable. And I thought you might enjoy it too."

Her heart swelled at the thoughtfulness of his words. "I do," she said sincerely. "Thank you for bringing me."

He glanced at her then, his gaze lingering a second too long before he cleared his throat and stepped out of the car. Y/N followed, the crisp evening air wrapping around her as her shoes clicked softly against the pavement.

As they began walking toward the familiar entrance of Jazz Jin, the dim street lights flickered on above them. The alley was quiet, save for the distant murmur of conversations and clinking glasses from nearby establishments.

Y/N walked beside Akechi, their shoulders brushing slightly as the space narrowed. She tilted her head to look at him, catching the way his hands were tucked into his pockets, his posture casual yet purposeful.

"You know," she began, her tone light, "you could've just said you missed going to jazz jin with me."

He glanced at her, a small, wry smile tugging at his lips. "Would you believe me if I said it's just jazz jin?"

She laughed softly, nudging him with her shoulder. "I guess I'll take it."

They reached the familiar door to Jazz Jin, the faint sound of smooth jazz seeping through the cracks. Akechi opened the door for her, stepping aside to let her in first.

"After you," he said, his voice tinged with a rare gentleness.

Y/N stepped inside, the warmth of the dimly lit room and the soft, soothing notes of the piano immediately enveloping her. As the door shut softly behind them, she glanced back at Akechi, who was already slipping out of his coat and giving her one of those rare, genuine smiles that always seemed to make her heart skip a beat.

For a moment, it was as if the weight of the world—their worries, their secrets, their separate lives—was left outside, beyond the door. Here, in this quiet little space, it was just the two of them.

The atmosphere inside Jazz Jin wrapped around them like a soft blanket, the dim lighting and quiet hum of jazz weaving a cocoon of intimacy. Akechi guided Y/N to their usual table, tucked into the corner where they could linger undisturbed. He pulled out her chair without a word, and she sat down, her smile soft but bright.

"Thank you," she said as he took the seat across from her. He nodded in acknowledgment, his movements measured, but there was something faintly more relaxed about him here, as if the quiet ambiance took some of the sharp edges off his usual composure.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Y/N rested her chin on her hand, watching him. His gaze was briefly elsewhere, scanning the familiar room, but it wasn't long before his eyes drifted back to her. There was a brief flicker of something in his expression, too quick for her to name, before he settled into a small, polite smile.

"You know," she began, leaning forward slightly, "if you're still interested in cooking, I could teach you another recipe. Something different this time."

His brow lifted faintly, and his lips quirked into that ever-so-slight smile she was starting to recognize as his version of amusement. "Another recipe, hmm? I'll admit, I am curious. The last one turned out... surprisingly well."

"'Surprisingly'?" she echoed, feigning offense. "I think you just like that cooking is basically following a set of instructions."

"That's not an entirely inaccurate observation," he admitted with a soft chuckle, his tone light. "But it's also enjoyable when the company is tolerable. And you, somehow, make it tolerable."

Her cheeks warmed at the indirect compliment, and she quickly countered with a teasing grin. "Wow. High praise, Detective. I'll cherish it forever."

"Please do," he replied smoothly, his tone deadpan, but the faint gleam in his eyes gave him away.

She tapped her fingers lightly against the edge of the table, as if mulling over his challenge. "Okay, but if I'm surprising you, I'll need some guidance. Sweet or savory?"

He leaned back slightly, tilting his head as though considering her question deeply, but then he shook his head. "Surprise me completely," he said, his tone calm but with a hint of playful challenge. "I trust your judgment."

"Big mistake," she said with a grin, and he chuckled quietly, the sound low and brief, but warm.

"I'll take my chances," he said.

They fell into easy conversation, tossing ideas back and forth. Y/N suggested everything from warm Japanese stews to intricate French pastries, and he seemed particularly intrigued by the idea of mastering soufflés. She laughed at the thought of him meticulously following each step, timing every whisk and fold like a perfectly orchestrated investigation.

"You'd probably end up with a soufflé so perfect it would make everyone else give up on ever attempting one," she teased.

"Only if I had you as my supervisor," he replied dryly, though his lips quirked upward.

"I'd just be there to cheer you on—and, okay, maybe judge a little," she said, grinning when he shook his head lightly.

Their conversation carried on like this, light and unburdened, as if the weight of the outside world had been left at the door. She found herself stealing little glances at him, marveling at how much more human he seemed in moments like this—less polished, less guarded. It was rare, but she treasured it.

At one point, there was a lull, and Y/N leaned back in her chair, letting the faint jazz melody fill the space between them. She studied him for a moment, her gaze soft.

"I'm glad we came here tonight," she said quietly. "It feels... normal."

Akechi's gaze flicked up to meet hers, and for a brief moment, something unguarded flashed in his eyes. He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table as he spoke, his voice quieter, almost tender.

"Normal is a feeling I only acquire when I'm with you."

Her breath caught, and she blinked, suddenly flustered by the weight of his words. Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly tried to brush it off with a small laugh, but his words hung in the air between them, undeniable.

Akechi must have realized his own vulnerability because he straightened, his expression slipping back into his usual composed mask. He cleared his throat lightly, his tone shifting back to its typical smoothness. "I suppose that's a compliment to your company."

She smiled, her heart still fluttering slightly. "I'll take it as one."

For a moment, the intimacy of his admission lingered, but neither of them pushed it further. Instead, they allowed the soft rhythm of their conversation to pick up again, letting the warmth of the space—and each other—fill the quiet spaces between the words.

The moment hung delicately in the air between them, but Akechi quickly shifted his posture, drawing the conversation back into safer territory. Y/N let the blush on her cheeks fade, though her heart still fluttered at the lingering weight of his words. Normal is a feeling I only acquire when I'm with you. She couldn't stop replaying it in her head, no matter how much she tried.

Akechi, ever the master of control, composed himself with a small clearing of his throat. His fingers toyed idly with the edge of his sleeve, his mind clearly working through the next topic of conversation.

"Do you come here often?" she asked suddenly, curious to ease them back into a casual rhythm. "Before we started meeting up here, I mean."

He glanced at her, his lips curving into a faint smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Occasionally. Jazz Jin is one of the few places where I feel... untethered. It doesn't demand anything of me—no masks, no performances. Just music and quiet."

Her gaze softened. "That sounds nice. It's a good place to just be yourself."

He let out a faint chuckle, though there was a trace of bitterness in it. "Myself. That's a complicated concept, wouldn't you say?"

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. "I guess it is. But... you seem more like yourself when we're here. Or maybe I just like to think that."

He gave her a look she couldn't quite read, as if he were trying to decide whether her words comforted or unsettled him. After a moment, he leaned back in his chair, folding his hands neatly on the table. "Perhaps that's why I keep coming back," he said, his voice quieter now. "Because you make it feel easier to forget the rest."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm again, but this time, she didn't try to brush it off. Instead, she smiled softly, meeting his gaze. "I'm glad, then."

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable—it was the kind that settled between two people who didn't need to fill every space with words. She let the music wash over them, tapping her fingers lightly against the edge of the table in time with the rhythm.

Finally, she spoke again, her tone lighter. "So, any requests for the surprise dish? Or am I going in completely blind?"

Akechi smirked faintly, the earlier tension in his shoulders softening. "I trust you," he said simply. "Though if it turns out disastrous, I reserve the right to remind you of this conversation."

She laughed. "Fair enough. But I think you'll like it. I've got a few ideas."

"Do you?" he asked, his curiosity piqued. "Care to share, or are you keeping it a mystery?"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... I think I'll keep it a mystery. You'll just have to wait and see."

"Cruel," he said, though there was a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "I'll have to prepare myself for whatever culinary adventure awaits."

Their laughter mingled with the soft jazz in the background, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Y/N couldn't help but marvel at how easy it was to be around him when his guard was down—when the sharp edges of his persona softened just enough for her to see the warmth beneath.

"I think you'll survive," she teased, leaning back in her chair. "But if you don't, I'll apologize in advance."

"How generous of you," he replied dryly, though the faint smile on his lips betrayed his amusement.

As their conversation continued, the weight of the day seemed to melt away, leaving only the quiet comfort of their shared company. For a brief moment, Y/N let herself forget about everything else—the Phantom Thieves, the recent chaos, the doubts lingering in the back of her mind.

As Akechi leaned back in his chair, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips, Y/N found herself caught in a whirlwind of her own thoughts. There was something about the way he seemed lighter here, like the weight he always carried had momentarily lifted. It wasn't gone, not entirely—there was still a heaviness in his eyes if you looked closely enough—but it felt less overwhelming in this space, in this moment.

Her gaze drifted to the way his fingers idly traced the edge of the table. She thought about the Akechi she'd first met: composed, calculating, always a step ahead of everyone else. And yet, here he was, letting his guard down just enough to let her in. It felt... special. Fragile, almost, like she didn't want to say or do anything that might break the spell.

Her mind wandered to the phone conversation she'd overheard once—not intentionally, of course. He'd been talking about sushi, of all things, his voice unusually animated as he described the texture of the rice, the balance of flavors, the artistry of it all. She remembered thinking how rare it was to hear him talk about something so ordinary, so human. It had stuck with her, that moment.

Maybe I could make him something, she thought, the idea forming quickly in her mind. A homemade sushi roll. It's not the same as what he'd get at some fancy restaurant, but... it's personal. He'd appreciate that, wouldn't he?

Her stomach twisted slightly at the thought. She wasn't exactly a master chef, and sushi wasn't something you just threw together. But then again, it wasn't really about the sushi, was it? It was about the gesture. About showing him that she cared, that she'd been listening. That she saw him, even when he wasn't trying to be seen.

Her eyes flicked back to Akechi, who had picked up his phone and was scrolling through something absentmindedly. He looked calm, almost serene, but she knew better. Beneath that polished exterior was a storm—one he didn't often let her see. He carries so much, she thought, her chest tightening. Too much. Maybe this could be my way of easing some of that burden, even just a little.

The idea felt right, though she couldn't quite explain why. There was something grounding about the thought of creating something for him with her own hands, something simple and intimate. She could picture it now: the two of them sitting together, the carefully crafted sushi rolls between them, Akechi's expression shifting from surprise to something softer, something warmer.

I wonder if he'd even admit to liking it, she mused, a small smile tugging at her lips. Probably not. He'd find some way to deflect, to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal. But I think... I think it would mean something to him.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't notice Akechi glancing up from his phone, his gaze settling on her. "You seem deep in thought," he remarked, his tone light but curious.

She blinked, snapping out of her reverie. "Oh, just thinking about... dinner," she said quickly, hoping he wouldn't press further.

"Dinner, hmm?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "You're not planning some prank, are you?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "Maybe. You'll just have to wait and see."

He chuckled softly, and for a moment, she wondered if he could tell she was scheming. But if he did, he didn't let on. Instead, he returned his attention to his phone, and she allowed herself a moment to quietly observe him.

Yeah, she thought, the idea solidifying in her mind. Homemade sushi it is.

The TV channel switched abruptly, and the lively conversation around the bar dimmed to silence. Y/N blinked at the sudden interruption, her attention stolen by the image of President Okumura standing behind a podium in a room full of reporters and flashing cameras. He looked... frail. His normally commanding presence seemed diminished, his posture stiff and his hands gripping the edges of the podium like he needed the support to stay upright.

Her fingers, still intertwined with Akechi's on the table, tightened instinctively. She turned her head to him, meeting his sharp gaze. He was already watching her, and for a moment, neither of them said a word. Then, almost unconsciously, his hand tightened around hers as well.

This was it. The confession Akechi had mentioned.

Y/N wanted to believe it was a normal confession, that it would go the way all of their targets' confessions had gone before. They admit their crimes, face justice, and the world moves forward. But something about the air felt heavier, the atmosphere oppressive. And despite her hope, a gnawing unease settled in her chest as the president began to speak.

"Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to gather here," Okumura started, his voice quiet but steady. "Today, I'd like to elaborate upon the whole truth behind my company's labor situation. How my employees were forced to work under severe conditions, how lax we were with sanitation, and how my corporation acted as a whole to cover up every facet of this scandal. For all of this, I wholeheartedly apologize."

He bowed deeply, the camera capturing the gesture in stark detail. The room of reporters erupted immediately.

"So are you saying all of this was done under your orders?" one journalist called out, their tone sharp and cutting.

Y/N's heart pounded as Okumura straightened, his face pale and drawn. She glanced at Akechi out of the corner of her eye, but his expression remained unreadable, his jaw tight and his gaze fixed on the screen.

"Yes," Okumura said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am solely responsible."

The reporters pushed further, their questions coming rapid-fire.

"We heard that dozens of your employees were forced to resign due to mysterious illnesses. Furthermore, these happened to be officials who stood against your proposals for overseas expansion. The same thing happened to executives at competing companies who were looking to expand abroad. Is all of this true?"

"Yes," Okumura admitted, his voice trembling now.

"Was it all coincidence?—We'd like some answers!"

The tension in the room—and in Jazz Jin—was suffocating. Y/N's stomach churned, her hope slowly unraveling with each passing second. She glanced at Akechi again, desperate for some kind of reassurance, but his face was carved in stone, his grip on her hand the only thing tethering her to the present.

Okumura hesitated, his eyes darting toward the reporters before lowering to the podium. "About that..." he began, his voice faltering. "I have a critical piece of information to announce here today. I—"

The words stopped abruptly as his body jerked forward. His hand flew to his chest, his face contorted in pain. The reporters froze, their voices rising in panic as Okumura staggered and collapsed over the podium.

"Okumura-san?" one called out, their voice shaky.

The camera zoomed in on the lifeless body slumped on the stage before cutting to static, then an emergency broadcast.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of her chest. The silence in Jazz Jin was deafening, the only sound the faint hum of the air conditioning.

As the screen cut to an emergency broadcast, the room fell into an almost oppressive silence. The faint clinking of glasses and murmured conversations in Jazz Jin had vanished entirely. Y/N sat frozen, her hand still clasped tightly in Akechi's. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the television, as though staring at it hard enough might bring Okumura back to his feet.

It didn't.

She turned to Akechi, her voice barely above a whisper. "Does this... does this mean they're behind the mental shutdowns?"

Her words felt heavier than anything she had ever said before. Her mind raced, every possibility, every conversation, every stolen moment with the Thieves flashing before her eyes. She wanted him to say no, to tell her there was some other explanation. That it wasn't them. That it wasn't her. But she wasn't naïve enough to ignore the gnawing truth. Akechi's words echoed in her mind: They killed someone.

Akechi exhaled softly, his grip tightening ever so slightly around her hand. He looked down at the table for a moment before raising his eyes to meet hers. His expression was unreadable, but his usual sharpness was softened by a layer of something more human—regret, perhaps. Or pity.

"It seems highly likely," he said carefully, his voice calm but firm. "The timing of his death is too... convenient to be a coincidence. And the nature of his collapse aligns perfectly with the symptoms of a mental shutdown."

Y/N felt her stomach churn at his words. Her free hand instinctively went to her lap, gripping the fabric of her skirt as if that could stop the trembling that had begun in her fingertips. "But... how? They've never done this before," she argued, her voice breaking slightly. "This wasn't—this isn't what we did."

Akechi tilted his head slightly, studying her as though weighing how much to say. "Perhaps the Phantom Thieves' methods have evolved," he said, his tone careful, deliberate. "Or perhaps the group's priorities have shifted. Either way, the evidence is damning."

She stared at him, her breathing shallow. It wasn't true—it couldn't be true. She wanted to believe that, desperately. But the sinking feeling in her chest wouldn't go away. Okumura was dead. He had collapsed in front of the entire nation. Akira and the others would've had just returned from his Palace.

Hadn't they?

Akechi's hand shifted in hers, drawing her attention back to him. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, she thought she saw genuine concern flicker in his eyes. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice lowering. "I know this is hard to process, but you need to be honest with yourself. Can you think of anything—anything—the group might have done differently this time?"

His words struck her like a physical blow, and for a moment, she felt like the world was spinning. She thought back to Ann's behavior,, to her words about Makoto, to the way things had felt... wrong to her. The team had been disjointed lately, unfocused. Haru had just joined, and everything felt rushed. Uncertain. Had something gone wrong? Had they made a mistake?

"I..." she started, but the words caught in her throat. Her mind was a swirling mess of doubt and fragmented memories.

Akechi leaned closer, his voice softening even further. "If they did this, if they really are behind the mental shutdowns... it changes everything. Justice doesn't come from taking lives, no matter how justified it may seem."

The words hung in the air, pressing down on her like the weight of an unspoken truth. She swallowed hard, her heart racing.

"I don't know," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible. "I don't know what's going on anymore."

Akechi released her hand, only to reach out and gently touch her shoulder. His gaze was steady, unwavering, as though trying to anchor her amidst the chaos in her mind. "Take your time," he said, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic warmth. "But don't lose sight of what's important. The truth is what matters most, no matter how painful it might be."

Y/N nodded numbly, unable to find the words to respond. Her mind was racing, caught between hope and despair, between belief and betrayal.

She turned her gaze back to the blank television screen, her thoughts a whirlwind of questions she didn't know how to answer. Okumura's lifeless body flashed in her mind, and her stomach twisted. If the Phantom Thieves really were responsible... what did that make her?

Akechi's hand lingered on her shoulder for a moment before withdrawing. He straightened, his usual composure slipping back into place. "Come," he said, his tone more controlled now. "Let's step outside for some air. It'll do us both some good."

Y/N nodded again, following his lead as they left Jazz Jin. The night air hit her like a wave, cool and sharp against her flushed skin. As they walked in silence, she glanced up at the stars, her mind still spiraling.

She wanted to believe in the Phantom Thieves, in their mission, in Akira. But with every step, the doubt gnawed deeper, threatening to unravel everything she thought she knew.

Y/N stayed silent, the weight of the broadcast and Akechi's words pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. Her thoughts tangled into knots she couldn't undo, her mind circling the same, impossible fact: They killed someone.

Akechi, walking beside her, seemed to sense the turmoil radiating off of her. His voice broke through the tense quiet, soft and measured. "I know this must be hard for you."

She didn't respond with words, only nodding stiffly. Her throat felt too tight, as though any attempt to speak would choke her. She focused instead on the uneven ground beneath her feet, trying to ground herself.

He glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable in the dim glow of the streetlights. "Let me walk you home," he offered, his voice still gentle, "since we're already in Kichijoji. It's not far."

For a moment, she hesitated, the thought of being alone gnawing at her as much as her spiraling doubts. Finally, she murmured, "Okay..." and squeezed his hand, which she hadn't realized she was still holding.

He responded without missing a beat, his fingers tightening around hers in a quiet reassurance.

Neither of them said much as they walked, the silence filled only with the muted hum of distant conversations and the occasional soft breeze. Y/N clung to the comforting warmth of his hand in hers, the only solid thing in a world that suddenly felt so fragile and uncertain.

The streets of Kichijoji were quieter now, the liveliness from earlier in the evening tapering off into the calm of the night. As they moved past glowing shop windows and closed storefronts, Y/N found herself stealing glances at Akechi. His usual confidence was subdued tonight, replaced by a contemplative look that made him seem... human. Vulnerable, even.

It didn't ease the knot in her chest. If anything, it tightened further.

He was the one to finally break the silence. "You don't have to figure everything out right away, you know," he said, his voice low and steady. "Sometimes it takes time for the pieces to fall into place. Don't rush yourself."

She nodded again, her grip on his hand tightening. The words didn't quite reach her, not yet, but she appreciated the sentiment. She appreciated him.

As they rounded the last corner to her neighborhood, the familiarity of the streets brought a small sense of comfort. But it was fleeting, chased away by the image of Okumura collapsing in front of the reporters.

When they reached her home, she stopped in front of the gate, turning to look at him. His face was calm, but his eyes carried something deeper—something unreadable but heavy.

"Thank you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He gave her a faint smile, his hand still in hers. "Always," he replied, his tone lighter than the moment but no less sincere.

For a fleeting moment, she thought about pulling him into a hug, about saying something to ease the tension between them. But instead, she just squeezed his hand.

Y/N hesitated as she unlocked her front gate, her fingers trembling ever so slightly against the cool metal. As she turned to say goodnight one last time, the words she intended to speak caught in her throat. Instead, something else slipped out—soft, barely audible.

"Actually..."

Akechi froze mid-step, his polished shoes scuffing against the pavement. He turned back to her slowly, his brows lifting slightly in curiosity. "Yes?"

She bit her lip, unsure of how to phrase what she wanted to say. It felt selfish, maybe even childish, but the weight pressing down on her chest begged her to try. "Could you..." She looked down at the ground, fiddling with her house key before meeting his gaze. "Stay the night? I—I don't think I want to be alone right now."

For a moment, he just stared at her, his expression unreadable in the dim light. But then his features softened, and he nodded without hesitation. "Of course," he said simply, his voice steady and reassuring. "I'll just need to grab a pair of pajamas from home. I'll be back in no time."

Her shoulders relaxed as relief washed over her, and she gave him a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Goro," she said softly.

He offered her a faint smile in return, a rare moment of warmth breaking through his usual composed demeanor. "Don't mention it," he replied.

She watched as he turned and began walking away, his figure cutting through the quiet night. Only when he turned onto the main street did she remember—his car was still parked near Jazz Jin. She glanced down the road and spotted him heading toward the familiar alleyway that led to the bar.

For some reason, the sight of him walking there made her smile faintly. There was something strangely grounding about seeing him move through such a mundane part of life, like it was a reminder that he wasn't as untouchable as he sometimes seemed.

When he finally disappeared from view, she stepped inside her house, locking the door behind her. The silence inside was oppressive, but she held onto the promise that he'd be back soon.

For now, all she could do was wait.

Y/N stepped into her bedroom, her movements mechanical, as though she were watching herself from outside her own body. The silence of the house felt heavier than usual, like it was pressing against her skin. She opened her drawer and pulled out her pajamas—a soft pink set with delicate floral patterns. Normally, the cheerful design would bring her a small sense of comfort, but tonight, it felt hollow.

She slipped the long-sleeved top over her head, the fabric brushing coldly against her arms. Matching pants followed, and she tied the waistband with trembling fingers. She caught her reflection in the mirror—messy hair, tired eyes, and a blank expression. She didn't look like herself. She almost didn't feel like herself.

As she folded her discarded clothes and set them aside, her mind began to wander, unbidden, to Ann.

Holy shit. Ann.

The thought hit her like a jolt, her hands freezing mid-motion. How was she doing? Ann had been smiling earlier, trying to lighten the mood, but was that real? Did she know what had just happened? What would she think when she saw the confession—or, rather, the abrupt end to it? Would she put the pieces together?

Y/N instinctively reached for her phone, her thumb hovering over Ann's contact. She should text her—should check in, see if she was okay. But she hesitated, the weight of her own uncertainty pulling her back. If Ann was okay, if she was still blissfully unaware of what had just unfolded, would it really be fair to drag her into Y/N's spiraling thoughts?

What if Ann... knew?

Y/N's chest tightened, and she shook her head forcefully, as if the motion could dislodge the invasive thought. No, she couldn't involve herself with Ann—not if it meant risking the fragile distance she'd been trying to maintain. The lies, the doubt, the whispers about the Phantom Thieves... it was already too much to bear.

She set her phone down on the edge of the bed and left her room, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. The kitchen felt empty, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound breaking the stillness. She pulled out a chair at the dining table and sat down, resting her chin on her hands as her eyes drifted to the faint shadows cast by the overhead light.

The world outside felt so far away, yet it was spinning faster than she could keep up with. She thought about the broadcast, about Okumura's sudden death, about Akechi's steady grip on her hand during the chaos.

Her fingers unconsciously traced the edge of the table. She wished she could believe in the Phantom Thieves again, wished she could see them as the heroes they once seemed to be. But doubt clung to her like a second skin, impossible to shake.

The faint click of the front door lock jolted her from her thoughts, and she straightened in her seat, her heart skipping at the sound of his familiar footsteps. He was back.

Y/N stepped into her bedroom, her movements mechanical, as though she were watching herself from outside her own body. The silence of the house felt heavier than usual, like it was pressing against her skin. She opened her drawer and pulled out her pajamas—a soft pink set with delicate floral patterns. Normally, the cheerful design would bring her a small sense of comfort, but tonight, it felt hollow.

She slipped the long-sleeved top over her head, the fabric brushing coldly against her arms. Matching pants followed, and she tied the waistband with trembling fingers. She caught her reflection in the mirror—messy hair, tired eyes, and a blank expression. She didn't look like herself. She almost didn't feel like herself.

As she folded her discarded clothes and set them aside, her mind began to wander, unbidden, to Ann.

Holy shit. Ann.

The thought hit her like a jolt, her hands freezing mid-motion. How was she doing? Ann had been smiling earlier, trying to lighten the mood, but was that real? Did she know what had just happened? What would she think when she saw the confession—or, rather, the abrupt end to it? Would she put the pieces together?

Y/N instinctively reached for her phone, her thumb hovering over Ann's contact. She should text her—should check in, see if she was okay. But she hesitated, the weight of her own uncertainty pulling her back. If Ann was okay, if she was still blissfully unaware of what had just unfolded, would it really be fair to drag her into Y/N's spiraling thoughts?

What if Ann... knew?

Y/N's chest tightened, and she shook her head forcefully, as if the motion could dislodge the invasive thought. No, she couldn't involve herself with Ann—not if it meant risking the fragile distance she'd been trying to maintain. The lies, the doubt, the whispers about the Phantom Thieves... it was already too much to bear.

She set her phone down on the edge of the bed and left her room, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. The kitchen felt empty, the faint hum of the refrigerator the only sound breaking the stillness. She pulled out a chair at the dining table and sat down, resting her chin on her hands as her eyes drifted to the faint shadows cast by the overhead light.

The world outside felt so far away, yet it was spinning faster than she could keep up with. She thought about the broadcast, about Okumura's sudden death, about Akechi's steady grip on her hand during the chaos.

Her fingers unconsciously traced the edge of the table. She wished she could believe in the Phantom Thieves again, wished she could see them as the heroes they once seemed to be. But doubt clung to her like a second skin, impossible to shake.

The faint click of the front door lock jolted her from her thoughts, and she straightened in her seat, her heart skipping at the sound of his familiar footsteps.

The sound of the door opening brought Y/N out of her thoughts. She glanced toward the hallway just as Akechi stepped into view, his briefcase in hand and a faint smirk on his face.

"You know," she said softly, a small chuckle escaping her lips, "you could've at least knocked. You scared me for a second."

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing just slightly. "And you could've locked your door. Honestly, what kind of invitation is that?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a flicker of genuine concern behind his words.

She rolled her eyes at him, though a small, amused smile played on her lips. "Touché. I'll keep that in mind next time."

Her gaze drifted briefly to the window, catching sight of his car now parked right outside. He traveled light—just his briefcase. She tilted her head slightly, noting the simplicity of it, and then gestured toward her room.

"You can change in my room," she offered, standing and crossing her arms. "It's at least more private than trying to make do out here."

He nodded in understanding, adjusting the grip on his briefcase. "Thank you. I won't take long."

As he headed toward her bedroom, Y/N followed behind briefly, stopping just before the door. She leaned against the wall, waiting outside while he stepped inside and shut the door. She stared at the closed door for a moment, her thoughts shifting back to earlier in the evening, but this time her lips curled into a small smile.

He was here. Somehow, despite everything, his presence felt like the only thing keeping her grounded.

The soft sound of the door opening caught Y/N's attention, and she turned her head as Akechi stepped out of her room. His earlier composed demeanor was slightly softened now, dressed in a simple white short-sleeve shirt and black plaid sleep pants. It was a stark contrast to the perfectly tailored suits she always saw him in, and for a moment, she found herself almost staring.

Her gaze lingered on the way the fabric of the shirt clung to his shoulders, the casual look making him seem... different. Softer. She wasn't used to seeing him like this, and it almost made him feel more real.

Akechi shifted slightly under her gaze, his hand brushing over the back of his neck. "Y/N?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. His cheeks reddened faintly as her eyes snapped back up to meet his. "You're... staring. Is something wrong?"

Her face flushed immediately, and she quickly shook her head, trying to cover the slip. "N-No, sorry! I just... I'm not used to seeing you like this." She gestured vaguely toward him, her words tumbling out in an attempt to fill the sudden awkwardness. "You're always so put-together. It's just... different."

He blinked, and for a moment, his expression was unreadable. Then, he let out a soft, embarrassed chuckle, his hand dropping to his side. "I see. I'll take that as a compliment, then, though I can't say I expected to feel so... exposed in sleepwear."

Her lips curled into a small smile as she crossed her arms. "Well, for the record, I think it suits you."

His blush deepened slightly, and he glanced away for a second, composing himself. "You're really something, you know that?" he muttered, though there was a faint trace of amusement in his tone.

Y/N shrugged, feigning nonchalance, but the way her heart skipped made her feel far less composed than she let on. "Just being honest," she teased lightly.

Akechi cleared his throat, regaining his usual calm. "Well, I hope this casual look doesn't shatter my image too much," he said with a small, playful smirk, though his voice was still warm.

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, don't worry. The image is intact."

He seemed satisfied with that answer, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his gaze, as if unsure whether her earlier lingering glance had been purely observational—or something more.

Y/N's gaze drifted toward the window, catching the faint reflection of the dim room behind her. The sun had fully set now, the streetlights outside casting faint halos of light against the darkened sky. The realization that hours had passed hit her like a dull weight in her chest, pressing down on her already restless mind. She let out a quiet sigh and turned, her footsteps light against the floor as she walked toward Akechi, who stood near the small dining table, fiddling absentmindedly with the hem of his sleep shirt.

"I would offer to make dinner," she began, her voice soft, almost apologetic as her hands clasped in front of her. "But I don't think I have the stomach for it tonight." Her lips curled into a faint, humorless smile, but her eyes betrayed the exhaustion and unease swimming beneath the surface.

Akechi looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment before he nodded in quiet understanding. "That's completely understandable," he said gently, his voice steady, as if afraid to add to her turmoil. "Neither do I, to be honest."

Her shoulders relaxed slightly at his agreement, grateful that he didn't try to reassure her with false optimism. She stepped a little closer, leaning against the side of the table, her gaze flicking from him to the dimly lit room around them. There was a heavy silence, but it wasn't entirely uncomfortable—just weighed down by the shared tension neither could seem to shake.

"I guess we'll just... figure something out later," she murmured, more to herself than to him, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N took a quiet breath before reaching out and gently taking Akechi's hand. The warmth of his skin against hers was comforting, grounding her in the moment, and she led him towards her room, the soft padding of their footsteps the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. As they entered, she made her way to her desk, setting her phone down with a soft click, flipping it to "Do Not Disturb" mode before placing it on the charger next to her bed.

She sank into the chair at her desk, her legs folding under her as she leaned back slightly, her gaze fixed on Akechi. He had sat down on the edge of her bed, his posture casual but a little stiff—probably still unsure about how to act. She smiled, the warmth in her chest spreading as she looked at him.

"You know," she began, breaking the silence with a soft laugh, "I've never actually had a sleepover before." Her voice was light, almost teasing as she looked at him.

Akechi's eyes flickered to her with a hint of surprise, then he let out a soft chuckle, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I can't say I've had many either," he admitted, his tone matching hers. "But I suppose... this could count."

Y/N giggled at his response, the tension between them dissipating just a little. It was a small, quiet moment, but somehow, it felt like they were both finding comfort in the simplicity of it. There were no expectations, no need to be anything other than who they were in that moment.

She shifted in her chair slightly, her eyes drifting to the dim light outside the window. "I didn't think we'd end up like this tonight," she said softly, almost to herself. "But I'm glad you're here."

Akechi's gaze softened at her words, and he gave a slight nod, his hand resting beside him on the bed. "I'm glad too," he replied quietly, his voice sincere. "It feels... peaceful."

For a moment, neither of them said anything more, simply existing in the stillness of the room, allowing the weight of the day to slip away, even if just for a while.

Y/N stretched her legs out, her body feeling heavy as the fatigue from the day settled in. She shuffled closer to the edge of the bed and laid down next to Akechi, the soft sheets feeling cool against her skin. She glanced up at him, catching his gaze, but quickly averted her eyes. There was a certain warmth in his stare, and it made her heart flutter unexpectedly.

Akechi was still sitting, his posture stiff, as though he were unsure of what to do next. His gaze lingered over her, a slight tension in the air that hadn't been there before. Y/N smiled meekly, looking away, trying to ignore the fluttering of her chest.

They didn't say anything for a moment, but then, almost reluctantly, she spoke, her voice low. "You can lay down, you know," she said, though it was clear there was a hesitancy there, as though she feared crossing some invisible boundary between them.

Akechi nodded slowly, giving her an understanding smile. "I know," he said, his voice gentle, as if inviting her without words to make himself comfortable.

Akechi hesitated for a moment longer, his eyes flicking over her, then to the bed, before he finally made his decision. He moved closer to her, sitting on the edge of the bed first, his legs resting beside hers. He didn't lay down immediately, though, almost as if he was testing the space between them, unsure of how to bridge that gap.

Y/N shifted, adjusting her position slightly so that her back was more relaxed, her head sinking into the pillow comfortably. She could feel his presence next to her, still too close to ignore, but it didn't feel intrusive.

Finally, Akechi let out a soft breath and shifted, sliding his legs onto the bed, his body still a little stiff. His hand moved subtly, brushing against the hem of his shirt, as if it were something to fidget with, something to ground him in this moment.

Y/N couldn't help but notice how delicate the motion was, how much care he was taking not to overstep, even though it felt as though he was trying to keep a fragile peace between them. She allowed herself to relax, her body sinking further into the bed as she closed her eyes, breathing deeply, feeling the closeness of his presence beside her.

It wasn't until his hand brushed against the hem of his shirt again that she realized how much she was overthinking it. She let herself breathe, just letting the moment happen, letting the tension slowly dissipate.

"Is this okay?" Akechi asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was testing the air between them.

Y/N nodded, her gaze softening as she turned her head toward him, a gentle smile on her lips. "Yeah," she murmured, the word almost a comfort. "It's perfect."

A few moments of quiet passed between them, the kind of silence that settled comfortably in the room, but also felt thick with unspoken words. The gentle rhythm of their breathing was the only sound, and yet, there was something more beneath it. Y/N couldn't help but feel how close they were, how still everything seemed. Her heart beat faster in her chest as she felt Akechi's presence beside her, not saying anything, but it felt like he was still just a little too far away, even with their bodies nearly touching.

Suddenly, Akechi took a deep breath and sat up, making Y/N blink in surprise. She cocked her head to the side, watching as he stood and walked over to her bedroom door. For a brief moment, she wondered what he was doing, but then, he closed it softly behind him without a word.

Y/N sat up slightly, confusion furrowing her brows as she asked, "Are you okay?"

Akechi didn't turn to face her at first, but his voice reached her. "I don't like sleeping with the door open," he muttered, almost apologetically, as if it were something he didn't want to admit.

"Ahh," Y/N replied, nodding in understanding. It made sense now. She felt a little silly for not realizing sooner, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she watched him stand there for a second, his back turned to her, as though he was deliberating over something.

Then, after what felt like a long, drawn-out pause, he finally turned around and made his way back to the bed. A soft sigh escaped him as he laid back down, his body still a little too tense, the muscles of his shoulders rigid, like he was still fighting something inside.

Y/N could feel it too. The quiet distance, the unspoken tension that clung to the air around them. Her heart thudded uncomfortably in her chest, feeling that almost imperceptible shift between them. But she didn't want him to stay like this. She didn't want him to be distant.

"Hey," she whispered, her voice soft and coaxing, trying to ease the tension that hung between them. "Relax, it's okay."

She saw him stiffen for a brief moment, and then, slowly, his shoulders seemed to ease. She could almost hear the soft sigh he let out as his body finally relaxed into the bed. It was as if his whole posture softened, his body no longer fighting some invisible battle, and the quiet tension in the room seemed to lift just a little.

Y/N felt a little lighter now too, her own body unwinding as she exhaled deeply. The weight of the situation, the quiet uncertainty, all felt like it was slowly dissipating. She smiled to herself, relieved that he was starting to feel comfortable, even if just a little. It felt like a small victory in a world that seemed so complicated.

The silence stretched between them again, but this time, it was different. It was softer. More natural.

She reached out, hesitantly at first, but then, without thinking too much about it, she placed her hand on his arm. Her fingers grazed the fabric of his shirt, and she noticed how the warmth of his skin seemed to reach out to her, grounding her even more.

"Thank you, Akechi," she whispered quietly, though she wasn't sure if he heard it.

His voice was soft when he replied, his words almost blending with the air itself. "No need to thank me."

But in that moment, she felt like she was thanking him for much more than just being here with her.

Y/N's mind drifted in and out of thoughts, the kind of drifting that only happened when she felt safe, when the world outside her little bubble seemed far away. She felt herself move closer to Akechi, almost without thinking. Her body seemed to yearn for the comfort he unknowingly offered, and before she realized it, she was cuddling into his side. Her head rested lightly against his chest, the rhythm of his breathing grounding her, making the night feel more serene.

Akechi shifted a little, his body becoming more attuned to hers. After a moment, he turned onto his side, adjusting his position so that his arm gently draped over her, pulling her a little closer. His touch was tentative at first, but the way he held her felt different—comforting, protective in a way that she didn't quite have the words for.

They didn't say anything more. The silence was thick with quiet understanding, the kind that passed between two people who had shared so much and yet still had so much left unsaid. Akechi's arm around her felt like the anchor she needed, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/N let herself rest fully, feeling her body relax into his.

Minutes stretched into hours. The quiet of the room enveloped them, and the weight of the day began to fade, swept away by the steady presence of the person beside her. She felt the steady rise and fall of his chest against her, his breath soothing her into a deeper calm. Slowly, despite everything that had happened, the tension in her body unraveled, and sleep began to pull at her, urging her to surrender to its quiet lull.

A few minutes later, Y/N's breathing had slowed, her muscles finally relaxing completely in his embrace. She felt her eyelids grow heavier, the warmth of his body against hers making everything feel just a little more peaceful. And without a single word, they both drifted into sleep, held in the quiet comfort of each other's arms.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N didn't feel alone. And as she lay there, curled up next to him, she couldn't help but hope that she wasn't the only one who felt the weight of the night finally lifting.