“That’s why it was a joke,” Ren deadpans, casting a sideways glance at Akechi. Doesn’t he know a joke isn’t funny if you have to explain it? Granted, it’s not Ren’s best work, but it’s the best he could manage under the circumstances.
He may not be a detective of Akechi’s caliber, but Ren is decently perceptive. It doesn’t escape his notice that the feathers have puffed up again, and that this seems to indicate some kind of distress. He wishes an idle thought, that any of the books he read in the past year had been about the behavior of birds. Maybe he’d be better able to decipher what Akechi was thinking now.
Ren himself isn’t the Phantom Thieves - he’s just their leader. He had spent months getting to know the detective, going on those little outings with him, and none of his other friends had any idea until he’d mentioned that he already had Akechi’s contact info when Makoto needed to invite him to the school festival. Ren loved his friends dearly, but he relished spending time alone with Akechi. Those outings were something he didn’t have to share with anyone else - well, except Ohya, that one time at the aquarium. Regardless, they were special.
Even if Akechi had been planning to kill him most of that time. Some of the time? Who could truly say, other than Akechi himself, and Ren wasn’t fool enough to ask.
And if Ren hadn’t been inclined toward holding a grudge against Akechi for literal attempted murder, he wouldn’t for this injury, either. The ache in his heart would eventually fade. The important thing is that his friend - yes, his real friend - had survived. Ren decides to take a gamble now on speaking his mind:
“I’m glad you’re alive.”
Even if you aren’t. Even if you don’t want me to be. Even if you don’t care about me as much as I care about you.
He should’ve said so back in December, too.
Without waiting for Akechi to respond and call him a sentimental idiot or something of the sort, Ren turns to wander off in the direction of the next comparable sized vehicle to the van. How can you even tell what sort of engine these things need?
no subject
He may not be a detective of Akechi’s caliber, but Ren is decently perceptive. It doesn’t escape his notice that the feathers have puffed up again, and that this seems to indicate some kind of distress. He wishes an idle thought, that any of the books he read in the past year had been about the behavior of birds. Maybe he’d be better able to decipher what Akechi was thinking now.
Ren himself isn’t the Phantom Thieves - he’s just their leader. He had spent months getting to know the detective, going on those little outings with him, and none of his other friends had any idea until he’d mentioned that he already had Akechi’s contact info when Makoto needed to invite him to the school festival. Ren loved his friends dearly, but he relished spending time alone with Akechi. Those outings were something he didn’t have to share with anyone else - well, except Ohya, that one time at the aquarium. Regardless, they were special.
Even if Akechi had been planning to kill him most of that time. Some of the time? Who could truly say, other than Akechi himself, and Ren wasn’t fool enough to ask.
And if Ren hadn’t been inclined toward holding a grudge against Akechi for literal attempted murder, he wouldn’t for this injury, either. The ache in his heart would eventually fade. The important thing is that his friend - yes, his real friend - had survived. Ren decides to take a gamble now on speaking his mind:
“I’m glad you’re alive.”
Even if you aren’t. Even if you don’t want me to be. Even if you don’t care about me as much as I care about you.
He should’ve said so back in December, too.
Without waiting for Akechi to respond and call him a sentimental idiot or something of the sort, Ren turns to wander off in the direction of the next comparable sized vehicle to the van. How can you even tell what sort of engine these things need?