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“Stop right there, you rotten little thief!”
Akira straightened, stepped away, and concealed the evidence with all the practiced grace of a former cat burglar, as expected of the ex-leader of the Phantom Thieves. Once he realized those accusatory screeches came from outside and Sojiro had not caught him red-handed devouring his expired Hokkaido milk ice cream bar, he strode toward Leblanc’s front door, wondering what predicament a local stray had gotten into this time.
Once he strode outside, he immediately recognized the problem but it was not Morgana. Morgana was too respectful of Leblanc’s big boss to ever pull a stunt like this. Low-hanging signs were struck askew, Sojiro’s abandoned watering can leaked freely across the pavement, and the potted carrots Akira had been nursing for weeks now had been toppled over by a fuzzy, furious culprit, who was currently held aloft by Sojiro at an arm’s length. The poor little thing pawed and hissed—since when could rabbits hiss?—at his glowering captor, yet Sojiro refused to set him down.
“Got you!” Sojiro declared while engaged in a glaring match with the little rabbit. Then his frown turned pensive, visibly confused. “How the hell did you find your way here? There’s no parks nearby.”
The rabbit was…cute. Unbearably cute, if Akira played the judge, even as it swung its body to and fro while trying to rip Sojiro to bloody pieces. Chestnut fur that looked unbelievably soft to the touch, flattened ears that Akira wanted to soothe, and a twitching little nose that only the hardest heart could resist booping. Once Akira’s reflexive cuteness aggression settled down, he frowned as well, making note of the dirt sullying the little guy’s fur and the instigative aggression that set the rabbit’s maroon eyes ablaze. Akira had never seen a rabbit with maroon eyes before but the color sent a pang of anguished nostalgia through his core, causing him to grimace and step forward.
“Is everything alright?” he asked, glancing between Sojiro and the rabbit. Sojiro didn’t even look at him but the rabbit does. Its eyes blew wide, then it became shockingly still, unable to rip its gaze away from Akira. Akira had never met this creature in his life yet a kinship immediately blossomed between them. The little guy was probably just an abandoned pet, starving and afraid amidst the hustle and bustle of Tokyo. How many cars and bikes had whizzed past the little one, avoiding injury to a hare by only a hair? Akira shuddered and banished all thoughts of harm befalling this little one.
“I caught this thing ripping our potted plants to shreds! I heard from some customers that a rabbit was running around terrorizing people’s dogs and cats but I thought they had to be kidding. You know that one old man who makes up the craziest stories for fun while his wife tells him to calm down? Yeah, for once he was right.”
As a fellow survivor of gossip and slander that escalated into accusations of unsolicited violence, Akira’s bond with the rabbit only blossomed further as he reached out to rescue the critter from Sojiro’s unwittingly painful grasp. “Don’t believe everything you hear. If he actually terrorized the cats and dogs, I’m sure he had a good reason. There are two sides to every story, right?”
Sojiro groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose while Akira finally took the rabbit into his arms. The rabbit didn’t struggle against him—in fact, it welcomed Akira with open paws and snuggled into his arms. Sojiro only gawked like a fish. “You can’t be serious, Akira. Don’t compare your life to some rodent you found on the road.”
Sojiro didn’t know the rabbit. Sojiro had no idea what it had been through. What if the dogs had attempted to assault the cats and were now actively slandering the rabbit after a disastrous lawsuit? The rabbit had done nothing wrong, and if it had? Well, Akira was sure it had a good reason and a tragic backstory to boot. He gently stroked the rabbit’s back, then trailed down to ensure he was holding the little guy correctly. Once his hand brushed across a star burst of alarming scar tissue near its heart, Akira made up his mind and steeled his resolve. “He’s not just any rabbit. He’s my rabbit. I tried to keep him outside but I guess he’s not about that life, so I’m really sorry.”
Sojiro stared. Akira stared back. The rabbit nibbled Akira’s hand yet did not break the skin. After an uncomfortable pause, Sojiro deadpanned, “Let me get this straight. You, the responsible pet owner who treats the pseudo-magical superpowered talking cat like you birthed him yourself, adopted a rabbit and left him to roam the streets of Tokyo without so much as a collar?”
“He’s microchipped!” Akira chimed in with a grin that could have fooled Shadows but not Sojiro. “I was trying the free range concept like we used to do back home with the chickens.”
Humoring his stupid ass anyways, Sojiro crossed his arms and gestured toward the bundle of alleged mayhem and madness in Akira’s arms. “Fine. In that case, what’s his name?”
“Uh…” Akira floundered for a moment. He looked down and found inspiration in the rabbit’s angry yet strangely thoughtful eyes. “Crow.”
“Crow. Crow. That’s like naming your cat Dog or your own son Computer.” Even the rabbit judged Akira’s choice as it shot him a stare akin to the homophobic dog memes Futaba adored. Akira had named his new rabbit friend after a human being, actually, not a bird, but that was worse so he kept his mouth shut.
“Yeah, I know. That’s a big trend nowadays. It could be worse, I could’ve named him Ginza Line Soggy Hot Dog or something.””
Sojiro huffed but acquiesced, backing away. “Your lying’s gotten worse over the years but as long as the rabid little thing doesn’t tear up my plants…fine. Take him home with you tonight. You can clock out early to get it some food and maybe a rabies shot while you’re at it. I don’t trust that damn thing.”
As if to prove Sojiro’s point, Crow bared its teeny little fangs and lashed out with its hind leg in Sojiro’s direction, bloodthirsty and warmongering. Akira could work with that, though. He smiled, took the bundle of unexpected joy into his arms, and cradled his new friend close. “Thank you.”
One rabies shot, pet supplies store visit, and gender reveal party later, Akira took his precious little bunny boy back to his apartment with a hop in his step. “Welcome to the Velvet Room,” he joked as if Crow either understood human language or was cognizant to the intricacies of the obsolete Metaverse. Crow, being just a little bun-bun, only snuggled deeper into Akira’s arms and wiggled his pink nose. “Normally it’s just me and my cat Morgana, but he agreed to stay with my friend Futaba until you get settled. Let me show you around!”
With that, Akira gave his new roommate the bachelor pad tour. He showed Crow the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom, and even his bedroom, allowing Crow freedom to roam and get acclimated while he removed any potential danger for a little rabbit. Tomorrow, he’d look into a playpen for Crow’s living quarters, yet for some reason he wasn’t worried about Crow getting up to no good or getting himself hurt. Besides, introducing Crow to things a rabbit would have never known on the streets was a fascinating experience—and a strange one for Akira, who still couldn’t comprehend why Crow’s reactions felt strangely human.
“Would you like me to read to you?” Akira asked when he looked up from his rabbit research and noticed Crow nudging a book on his bottom shelf. As if he understood, Crow nudged the book again with more fervor than before. Akira chuckled softly, then walked over and knelt next to Crow. He brushed his fingertips down the spine with one hand, then frowned and brushed his other hand down Crow’s. His friends rarely came into his room and never investigated his bookshelf beyond what was at eye level. This had been the safest shelf for these books yet somehow… “Was it The Hero with a Bow you were interested in or were you nuzzling Philosophy For Dummies?”
Crow ignored him, as a rabbit could not speak in human tongues, yet somehow a rabbit could express interest in human literature. He hopped down the shelf and gazed at each title with narrowed, beady eyes. Akira gulped as he watched Crow carefully. The bookshelf was anchored to the wall so there was no risk of fallen objects, but that wasn’t what bothered Akira. This was his special shelf. No one else was supposed to see it because everyone allowed inside his bedroom knew him well enough to judge. As a result, he rarely experienced being perceived, even if today it was by a rabbit.
Akira shook the bad vibes away. Crow was a rabbit, of course he couldn’t read. No need to dwell on why this shelf existed in the first place—but maybe two long, fluffy ears were the exact type of listening ear Akira needed. “An old friend of mine liked all the stuff on this shelf. I haven’t heard from him in a long time but I miss him, so I put this shelf together as something to remember him by.” Deft fingers dislodged a Grey Pigeon comic omnibus from underneath a Norse mythology collection, then turned to the place Akira had left off on, bookmarked by a faded crossword puzzle left behind on the Leblanc counter top. “You want to read with me? Rumor has it I’ve got the perfect voice for ASMR.”
Crow sniffed the spine, then hopped into Akira’s lap and made himself comfortable. Thrilled by the bond of trust built so swiftly between them, Akira grinned, made himself comfortable on the rug, and gently pet Crow’s head while they thumbed through the comic together. He hadn’t touched this omnibus in at least a year and it only took one glance to remember why. Slender fingers hesitated in their dance along the page, hovering over the visage of a defeated Grey Pigeon minutes before self-sacrifice and demise. This was Akira’s favorite story in the Featherman franchise and yet the only one he could never finish, with shameful tear stains serving as the only reminder he’d gotten this far in the first place.
Soft paws prodded at stilled hands while Crow glanced up at Akira, as if to say, keep going. Akira smiled as his fingers resumed their dance and he finally accepted the fate of Grey Pigeon he’d denied for all these years. Life was cruel and some games would never be fair, but there was comfort to be found in the company of a creature who could never judge. Crow didn’t comment on the near tears that splashed onto the pages, but his soft pelt grounded Akira and his gentle eyes kept him sane.
Hours later, Akira closed the omnibus at last. Crow leaped off his lap as Akira returned the book to its rightful place but watched Akira carefully, cornering the gentle human against the shelf with his fragile little body. For a second, Akira questioned if rabbits were truly prey animals. Surely it wasn’t natural for a bunny to size up a human like this. “Still in the mood to read some more, little guy?” A pink nose twitched as maroon eyes narrowed into a glare. Akira had forgotten his rabbit could recognize condescension. What a fascinating creature. “Okay, not little guy. Just guy. My bad. What are you looking for, anyways? Are you hungry or did you want to read about my crush’s big tittied British persona?”
The rabbit did not answer, for he could not comprehend the phrase big tittied British persona—or perhaps he did. He seemed to know what top Grey bottom Red no switch light novel meant earlier when Akira had proposed shopping for some at the Ikebukuro yaoi dungeon, after all. Instead, Crow sniffed the spine of the Loki book one last time, then nuzzled Akira’s sacred black box with his nose.
Akira frowned and knelt down, scooting closer to Crow. “No treats in there.” That didn’t matter to Crow. Akira tried to pull him away, but Crow furiously tapped his foot and shoved past Akira’s hand. Teeth sunk into the dusty cardboard box and that was when Akira snapped. In a panic, he yanked Crow away with a desperate plea of, “Don’t touch that!”
The effect was instantaneous: Crow’s ears flattened against his skull while Akira’s heart plummeted in a panic—no, no, now was not the time to panic, he had an animal to comfort. The box was fine. Akira was fine. Crow would be fine and hadn’t been hurt, but Akira knelt before the rabbit anyways as an apology. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You did nothing wrong, it’s okay…”
They remained like that for a moment. Then, as if perturbed more by Akira’s groveling than his actual outburst, Crow gently headbutted him. When Akira looked up, he was greeted by keen eyes and a tiny, level heartbeat beneath his hand as Crow tunneled beneath him for a hug. Akira sniffed, wiped dry eyes, and scooped the rabbit back into his lap. “We’ve got this. We’ll be the best roommates ever. Just going through growing pains, right?”
Crow huffed. Akira convinced himself it was a fond huff as he smiled down at his new best friend. Everything was fine. The box remained untouched.
Panther: Anyways
Panther: How’s the new bundle of joy treating you, Akira?
Joker: He’s doing well. He keeps trying to drink my coffee for some reason no matter how often I say it’s not for bunnies
Oracle: The children yearn for legalized stimulants
Fox: Bunnies? So you did not actually have a child?
Joker: Yusuke
Queen: Akira’s not that type of person!
Skull: What? Bi? Don’t be homophobic
Queen: No! I meant the type to have an illegitimate child! He’s too considerate
Joker: You would know if I was pregnant
Joker: Sorry, second message sent too late
Queen: …or that type of person either, for that matter
Joker: I could surprise you
Joker: But yeah, no. Sorry to disappoint. I adopted a rabbit
Oracle: Is he your illegitimate bunny son
Joker: No but if anything happens to him I’d kill everyone and then myself
“My friends think you’re cute,” Akira joked as he lowered his phone to Crow’s eye level. The pair sat side by side on the couch with chestnut fur brushing against Akira’s hip as the pair feasted on the finest carrot sticks and apple slices Akira’s kitchen had to offer. Crow squinted and his eyes roamed the screen, cleverly digesting every juicy tidbit with his dazzling lagomorph brain. He sniffed, shook his head to and fro, and headbutted Akira’s side. “I hope you like them. Ryuji should be here soon, he’s the one named Skull—ouch!”
Crow was not a fan of Ryuji, apparently, if his square front teeth sinking into Akira’s vulnerable flesh was anything to judge by. Thank god Akira had planned ahead and gotten Crow vaccinated for rabies. He was known to be quite biteable by his peers, if you counted Morgana once or twice as a joke, and by Shadows, either because they craved sustenance or supple boy flesh. Akira cocked his head quizzically toward Crow, who mirrored his movement with a scowl.
“I know you don’t seem to like other people but these are my friends and it’s important you get used to the company. Morgana will be back next week and we can’t have any dramatic incidents, okay? Don’t end up on the news. I’ve been there, done that. It’s not pretty unless you’re like my old crush on those talk shows waxing poetic about Santa Clause—okay, hey, that was no reason to bite me! He was pretty even when he insulted me on live television!”
Compelled to bicker one-sidedly with a rabbit about his namesake’s attractive features, Akira hardly felt the time slip away until an hour had passed. These conversations and bonding moments were so cathartic in a way no one else would ever understand. He couldn’t talk to a therapist about Akechi after what happened between him and Maruki, nor could he confide in his friends with a clean conscience after what had gone down between Akechi and them. He couldn’t even talk to his own reflection without facing his ugliest feelings and the facts he ran away from, without weeping profusely into his pillow and perpetuating the cycle of isolation—yet for whatever reason, he could talk to Crow about Akechi as if Akechi had never left Akira’s side at all. His chest loosened, his heart pumped voraciously, and his words flowed as freely as rain fell from the summer sky. If a loving yet sharp nibble here and there was the price Akira paid for freedom to love the person he could never move on from, so be it.
Crow marvelously stayed put until Akira’s phone pinged with a heads up from Ryuji, stating that he was only fifteen minutes away. Akira lovingly caressed Crow’s ears one more time, then went to the kitchen for their refreshments. Crow hopped behind him with narrowed eyes, surveying Akira’s every move. Akira smiled, reached deep inside the fridge, and smugly waved his buried treasure through the air once he resurfaced. “I made more bunny apples for you, too! Don’t worry, you don’t have to share.”
Crow wiggled his nose, nodded, and hopped back into the living room. Once Akira was out of sight, he did a celebratory hopping dance around the coffee table, then celebrated with a round of zoomies. Akira choked back a laugh. Crow could hold onto his false semblance of privacy if it made him happy. Knowing Crow was overjoyed to consume effigies of his own kind and that Akira had remembered his favorite food was enough to overjoy Akira in turn.
Minutes later, the doorbell rang. Akira opened the door and was greeted by Ryuji’s blinding smile, a brief but exuberant half-hug and a bag full of puffed corn sticks. “Heyyy! Guess who brought snacks we can all share!”
Akira smiled back. “By all of us, you mean…”
“The three of us! You, me, and the new guy on the block! I didn’t know what to get as a housewarming present for a rabbit, so I just bought some corn since you’re from Hokkaido and rabbits love plants and stuff, right?”
Akira inspected the snacks through a tragically critical lens. It never hurt to look out for the meek and vulnerable—well, the vulnerable, no matter how Crow defied meekness and denied his vulnerability. Ryuji meant well but these were loaded with additional sodium, delicacies meant for ruining humans’ arteries, not bunnies’. “Why don’t we share these and we can leave the apples for the rabbit?”
“Oh! My bad, I’ll stick with carrots next time—dude, is he glaring at me?”
“Huh?” Akira turned around, then looked down. Crow stood at the end of the foyer with narrowed eyes and a scowl on his face. When Ryuji made eye contact, Crow furiously jackhammered his foot into the ground, never once breaking eye contact. “Oh, yeah. He’s a little quirky but I love him. Give him time, I’m sure you’ll get along once he warms up to you!”
Crow finally broke eye contact with Ryuji, only to freeze Akira in place with his glare instead. After a moment, his gaze softened and his foot went still once he realized Akira wasn’t leaving. He then hopped over to Akira and brushed against his leg like a cat, all the while glaring once again at poor Ryuji.
“Are you sure that’s a rabbit and not a guard dog?” Ryuji questioned nervously while he took off his shoes.
At the rate Akira and Crow’s bond was growing, that wasn’t impossible, but Crow was definitely a rabbit for the time being. “I’ve never seen a dog love carrots as much as him, no.”
While Ryuji made himself comfortable and Akira caught up with his best friend, Crow maintained his vigil, keeping a hawk’s eye on Akira’s every move. Each morsel of food drawn to Akira’s lips was tracked by a watchful gaze and every word out of his mouth was picked up on by twitching ears. Ryuji talked at length about his physical therapist certification and his mother’s new boyfriend who finally treated her right, then Akira regaled him with tales of how he made his humdrum part-time jobs more exciting, up until and including the newest fuzzy addition to his family.
Once Akira recounted the story of how he and Crow first met, Ryuji laughed until his sides hurt. “I’ve got no idea how you deal with all that! First you’ve got Mona telling you when to go to bed even though we’re all adults without a bedtime nowadays, next you’ve got a rabbit who tries to maul Sojiro? Uh, he’s okay, right? Before I laugh at his expense, y’know.
“Sojiro’s fine, don’t worry. I don’t think anyone expected that much fight out of a rabbit,” Akira chuckled. As if he realized he was the center of attention, Crow hopped up onto Akira’s lap, ate a single apple from Akira’s hand, then resumed glaring at Ryuji while remaining glued to Akira’s side. “It’s nice. I’ve never had a pet—Morgana doesn’t count.”
“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Ryuji said, whistling innocently.
“I know you too well.”
“Okay, fine. He’s not a pet, he’s like your annoying little brother and alarm clock rolled into one.”
Crow snorted into Akira’s leg. Ryuji gawked while Akira minded his own business and scratched behind Crow’s ears. “Rescind the annoying and you’ve got it right.”
“It’s only been what, a week? And he’s already so attached to you.”
Akira couldn’t hold back a smile. “The feeling’s mutual.”
“So what’d you name him?”
Akira froze. His hand hovered over Crow’s head but did not touch, nor did he look Ryuji in the eye. “Huh?”
“Come on, I wanna hear! Why are you embarrassed? Is it a pun or something?”
“N-no, it’s not that.” Akira gulped and looked away. Sojiro had been one thing but he never knew Akechi by his code name, and while Ryuji harbored no resentment toward Akechi as far as Akira knew, what would he think about why Akira had immediately resorted to that name? Would he see the resemblance or was that just Akira’s grief talking? Would he care? Did his friends realize Akira still cared?
“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me!” Ryuji quickly reassured him. “Maybe you haven’t found the right name yet or maybe it’s cringe, but that’s okay! I remember you trying to call me Thug and Ann Catgirl, I won’t judge—“
“His name is Crow.”
Ryuji went silent. Crow went still in Akira’s lap. Akira bit his lip and resumed petting Crow, though it was more for his own sake than the rabbit’s. After a minute, Ryuji leaned forward and steepled his fingers. Akira braced himself for the conversation that would surely follow, but maybe he wasn’t ready. He still hadn’t come to terms with it himself. “Akira, I…look, I know we missed everything that went down between you and Akechi back then and I also know you don’t like talking about him because you don’t like to worry us.”
“That’s not—“ Akira protested, but Ryuji kept going.
“We worry anyways and we all care about you. You’re my best friend, and I want what’s best for you, so sorry but I’m gonna worry anyways when you name your pet after Akechi. You still miss him, huh?”
Ryuji’s voice was softer than the Ryuji from that fateful day at the television station would’ve claimed Akechi deserved. That only made everything worse. Akira worriedly stroked Crow’s head harder, then retracted his hand entirely. He could only stare at the wall, lest he face everything he’d been running from. “It was the first name that came to mind when I saw him.”
Ryuji leaned down further until he was back in Akira’s line of sight. He wasn’t beaming anymore—he only looked sad, an expression Akira loathed inflicting on Ryuji. Akira continued to stare down the wall instead. “Last time we talked, you thought he was still out there even though it’s been years.”
“I still do.”
“…So do you think that’s worse?”
Crow shuffled off Akira’s lap and gazed up with expectations Akira couldn’t comprehend. Akira gulped and folded his hands together, unable to reach out. “It’s okay. If he doesn’t want to come back, that’s okay—“
“Cut the crap, man. You don’t have to lie when even I can tell this is hurting you,” Ryuji interjected.
Maroon eyes continued to gaze up at Akira, a gaze Akira couldn’t hold. Maybe this had all been a mistake. His attachment to Crow wasn’t healthy and he was no hero for rescuing an animal from the streets. It had all been self-serving, as if one living creature could supplant another in Akira’s heart. As if this would give his life meaning when the only reason he lacked one was from denying his feelings all this time. “Lying to myself is all I have left, Ryuji. If Akechi survived, he clearly wants nothing to do with me. What I want or how I feel doesn’t matter. All I can do is hope he’s alright no matter how much it hurts and I shouldn’t project all my grief onto a pet—ouch! Crow, no biting!”
Crow had had enough of Akira’s uncharacteristic self-loathing and self-pity, or at least uncharacteristic in the eyes of friends who adored him wholeheartedly like Ryuji. He nipped Akira’s finger with enough force to bleed, then backed away at a snail’s pace when Akira recoiled. Those maroon eyes flickered between Akira’s finger and Akira’s eyes that refused to shed a tear, until incomprehensible emotion simmered to the surface. Without warning, Crow turned and fled the room, bounding across the floor until he vanished behind Akira’s bedroom door.
“Crow! Wait a second!” Akira cried out as he rushed into action. He only paused to glance back at Ryuji, who waved him on ahead.
“Don’t worry about me! I’ll hang out nearby at the 777 and steal some of your cannibal rabbit’s bunny apples,” said Ryuji.
“You’re a saint,” Akira praised before he bolted into his bedroom.
Crow was once again nibbling at the black box, slowly but steadily prying it out from beneath Detective Prince magazine covers at the tortoise’s pace. Akira skidded across the floor, rug burn be damned, and gathered the bundle of furious fur into his arms. Crow nipped and kicked for a moment but quickly went limp once he realized Akira’s hold remained firm. Rather than punish Crow for infringing upon his boundaries, Akira hugged his new friend close. “Hey, shhhh, it’s okay. I don’t know what spooked you but it’s okay. You’re safe with me, I’m not going to hurt you.”
As Crow snuggled into his lap, Akira turned to the black box. With the reverent hand of a lonely soul, he finally opened it and removed the black glove its innards had safeguarded all these years. Wistful mist welled near the corners of his eyes but no tears fell as he held the glove near his heart, right next to Crow. No, Akechi would have to wait; Akira had a family member to comfort—even if that family member reminded him viscerally of Akechi, no matter how much he denied it. He closed his eyes, leaned back against the wall, and breathed in time with Crow as the day trickled on without them. Only when the orange rays of sunset replaced daytime’s glow did Akira ask, “Is it wrong to want someone back, even if they’re better off without you?”
Of course, Crow couldn’t answer. Akira didn’t want or need him to. Crow was only a rabbit, after all, but who better to coax a human through grief than a pet they could adore wholeheartedly without any guilt or grievances? Akira would never again see a therapist—his Maruki trauma was better suited for an online forum than yet another therapist—but at least he could finally put his feelings into words. At least he could finally allow himself to feel at all.
“I miss him. I want him back more than anything. I don’t care about what he did to me, no matter how much people wish I did. The betrayal hurt but it never hurt worse than this.”
Akira bowed his head and cradled Crow closer to his heart. Crow remained shocked and still in his arms but Akira didn’t let go this time. He couldn’t bring himself to let go of Crow again. “I want him back so badly it’s tearing me apart and it doesn’t make sense. I don’t even know anymore if I loved him like this while I still had him in my life. He was just there and that was that, right? He was never on my side and I knew that from the beginning, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want him there. With me. Through thick and thin, even if that wasn’t what he wanted. I—I shouldn’t think like this. He’d probably tell me to get over myself or laugh at me for being such a sntimental dumbass but I don’t even care. I just hope he’s laughing somewhere. I hope he’s living a new life even if I don’t get to be part of it. I…I don’t know…”
Soft paws pressed themselves against Akira’s cheeks, drying tears before they could fall and silencing his voice before it could tell more lies. When Akira looked up, maroon eyes met his own with soft understanding and profound sadness Akira couldn’t make heads or tails of. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think those were matching tears welling up in Crow’s eyes, but he knew deep down that Crow understood these scars etched into his heart, which had only deepened and festered the longer Akira refused to change his dressings and let his grief breathe.
“Thank you,” was all Akira could say after everything, as he fiercely held Crow close and embraced his past, present, and future. For a moment, all was quiet, until Crow clambered up Akira’s chest. Though, Akira blinked in confusion as Crow met his gaze with fiery determination, he remained seated, hesitant, watching and letting Crow control the moment. Crow blinked, hesitating, then he nuzzled his forehead against Akira’s nose. Akira held his breath, caught entirely off-guard by the the display of affection, then Crow raised his head and softly pressed his mouth against Akira’s forehead. In their sanctuary where no one could intrude or misunderstand, Akira finally let his guard down and at last, he felt at peace. Even though longing laced his veins and his heart still beat to the rhythm of mourning, his faith had been renewed. Maybe someday Akechi would return but if not, Akira would love him from afar and let this fellow lost soul love him, too.
Of course, life never went according to plan once someone had one set in stone. Fate was tricky and fickle, after all—yet perhaps today, as Akira opened his eyes only to be blinded by alarmingly familiar blue light engulfing him and Crow, fate smiled upon the boy who chosen to smite it personally all those years before. Akira gasped and tried to scramble away but he was too slow, his reflexes rusty after all these years of inertia and lack of purpose. One moment, he was on his floor, cradling a soft, sweet little rabbit with a tsundere-bundere streak. The next, he was wheezing for air as a heavy weight shoved him against the floor, the rug quickly leaving a fuzzy imprint across his cheek. Akira couldn’t see past this blue light, but he still asked, “Lavenza? Is that you?”
She didn’t answer, but the mysterious entity crushing him did. It groaned, eerily human rather than rabbit in tone, and when the shimmering mist and dazzling light cleared, Akira stared up in shock at a human boy, slightly older than him, with chestnut hair and maroon eyes, brimming with fire Akira had yearned for as they gazed down at Akira, equally shocked. Akira remained still, as if glued to the ground. There was no way. How?
Finally, Akechi, blissfully human Akechi who had somehow grown yet still retained the school uniform he must have worn the day Akira had lost him, spoke, though he did not remove himself from his seat on Akira’s rapidly bruising torso. “If it’s any consolation,” he consoled as he stared awkwardly and unblinkingly at Akira, unable to rip his gaze away, “I didn’t think that would work.”
Akira couldn’t respond. His traitorous tongue faltered and words failed him as he could only stare, slack-jawed, at Akechi in the flesh, alive and well, sitting pretty on Akira’s chest as he crushed his former rival beneath him and smelling faintly of bunny apples. He was taller and broader than Akira had remembered but those maroon eyes, which had softened since they had last glared at Akira as he’d ordered the leader of the Phantom Thieves to do his goddamn job, finally snapped Akira out of astonished reverie as he eloquently exclaimed, “What just happened?”
Akechi rolled his eyes, only for them to widen as he finally flung himself off Akira and toward the opposite corner of his bedroom. Once he’d established distance between them, he clenched his jaw, crossed his arms, and furiously tapped his foot against the ground, as if unable to stop. As if by habit—and oh, oh no, the dots were finally connecting in Akira’s mind thanks to the noticeable lack of a rabbit in his room.
“You’re really here?” Akira asked dumbly. He hesitantly reached out, then hastily lowered his hand, though his heart remained open and brainlessly hopeful.
“So it would seem,” Akechi responded. He ran a stiff hand through coarse hair, visibly relishing in the sensation. “Forgive me for not leaping for joy, I’ve only had a human voice and appendages for less than five minutes.”
“You were my pet rabbit,” Akira continued as he blinked. He could only do and register so much at once and this was a lot even for Joker, let alone Akira Kurusu.
“I was a rabbit for four years apparently, but yes,” Akechi answered. His foot continued to rap against the floorboards as audible proof. Old habits died hard, even ones that carried over from a past life as an oversized but adorable rodent. “After we defeated Maruki, I came to my senses near the Diet Building in that form. I can only assume the Metaverse or perhaps your little butterfly friend was responsible for my survival, but I hardly had time to think about it even though I’d retained my mental faculties.”
While his own vocal chords creaked and croaked, Akira’s mind finally assembled the puzzle pieces. Crow’s heightened interest in Akira’s memorabilia associated with Akechi, his determination to open Akira’s boxed glove that surely smelled of familiar leather, his aloofness—or maybe even jealousy—when it came to Ryuji, his guilt Akira had mistaken for fright due to Akira’s grief and self-inflicted torment, it all flashed before his eyes even as they raked over Akechi’s form. Akira had unknowingly unloaded his feelings onto the very person he’d assumed had abandoned him, when in reality that dazzling soul had been within reach the entire time. He’d waxed poetic about his crush on Akechi and bawled his eyes out over his alleged death or exile and all Akechi could do was listen helplessly. It was absolutely mortifying—
Yet the first words out of Akira’s mouth were, “I had you vaccinated for rabies.”
To his immense credit, Akechi didn’t scoff or lash out. He only waved his hand dismissively, “I did bite Sakura-san, it’s only fair.”
“I’m sorry about what I said, too.”
To that, Akechi did stiffen, frozen in place as the apology struck. “About what?” he asked anyway, because even years spent as a rabbit did not make him less of an asshole.
Akira bit his lip even as he puffed his chest out and stood erect. “About you abandoning me, and everything before that. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I won’t hold you against your will, I’m not like Maruki and never will be, but if you need a place and would still like to have me around, I… I meant every word. I’ve had feelings for you all these years and trying to hold them in only made everything worse.”
Akechi didn’t answer immediately but his nose scrunched and he forcibly jammed his thumping foot against the floor. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t prevent the frantic thumping of his heartbeat from reaching Akira’s ears, whose heart fluttered nervously in turn. He guiltily looked away from Akira as he answered, “You have every right to be upset, Kurusu. I may have been trapped in that body for four years but I still actively avoided you nearly the entire time. Only recently did I decide to brave the streets of Tokyo in order to return to Leblanc and it wasn’t due to safety. I thought you and I would be better off without one another.”
Akira sniffed and fiddled with his bangs. “You were wrong. I would’ve welcomed you back on day one.”
“I know,” Akechi sighed. “You’ve never acted with your own best interests at heart.”
“Sure I do. Sometimes I just want things no one else understands. You of all people would understand that.” The words alone would have been sharp and barbed if it weren’t for the smile on Akira’s face. Akechi still couldn’t look him in the eye, however. He was hiding something from Akira. “I still don’t know how you changed back into a human.”
Akechi straightened and glared. In the past, he would have appeared imposing and standoffish, but his thumping foot rid him of any intimidation factor. Once again, he snarled at the traitorous appendage and firmly stomped the floor once more. “It’s nothing,” he clearly lied, “just an idea I had from an old, childish story.”
“That story being…?” While Akechi refused to answer, Akira combed through every folk and fairy tale he could recall from his childhood. Nothing related to rabbits rang a bell, as slow and steady would have only lost the race of reclaiming Akechi’s humanity and the sun still beamed through his curtains in lieu of the moon. Then again, there was a western fairy tale about an animal turning back into a human through the power of— “Oh my god.”
“Don’t,” Akechi ordered.
Unfortunately, no one told the rebellious leader of the Phantom Thieves what to do, not even his resuscitated crush. With a shit-eating grin, he continued, “So true love’s kiss worked?”
“I’m leaving,” Akechi grimaced, though he made no attempt to evacuate. “Had I known you’d be this insufferable, I would’ve stayed a rabbit.”
“Sorry, sorry. I won’t get all mushy on you, don’t worry.” The grin never left Akira’s face, though. His heart hammered uncontrollably and his body felt infinitely lighter. What a marvelous effect reciprocated affection could have on the mind, body, and soul. “For what it’s worth, I love you, too.”
Akechi didn’t verbally reciprocate, but his fiery red ears did all the talking. Akira didn’t point it out—Akechi’s heart would be safe with him and he’d silently treasure the sight instead. “So what will you do now?” he asked.
“Me? What about you? Do you need a place to stay?”
Akechi shrugged. “I’ll have to see what happened to my assets after Shido’s downfall. I doubt my apartment remained unoccupied after all this time. It was prime real estate and I never owned anything in the first place.”
“Do you want help finding a place?” Akira asked instead of what he actually wanted to ask. Akechi hesitated, his lips open as he choked on what had gone unspoken between them. Communication had been so much easier when only one of them could speak. Realizing someone had to take the first step, Akira steeled his nerves and ventured forth, “You’re welcome to stay here until you do. You might’ve already heard but I missed you horribly.”
“And you’re completely fine allowing your former enemy to squat in your apartment?”
Akira smiled, took a step forward, and with a trembling hand, took Akechi’s as his own. “You were already welcome as a rabbit but I like the real Akechi most of all. I’m here if you’ll have me.”
Though these sensations were still alien to Akechi after all these years and he had always trampled his own feelings underfoot in favor of his goals, today the boy who had forsaken everything finally embraced something gentle, having seen what good gentleness could bring. With a firmer grip than Akira, he took initiative and pulled Akira into his human arms. With Akira’s wide-eyed face pressed into his shoulder, he pressed his lips against Akira’s forehead once more, this time as a human, this time with intent, as he gave his answer. “I’m done avoiding what I actually want.”