To Ren's credit, Akechi doesn't swat at the hand, doesn't try to break free.

He just freezes.

It's overwhelming, how much Ren cares. How much he's willing to forgive. Why? Why is he like this? Akechi can't comprehend it. The wide-eyed, hopeful idealist who dreamed of heroism shriveled up and died when he was still so very young. The Detective Prince was merely a performance. A sugar coated mask he wore, a lie based around a distant dream...

"What of the others? Do you honestly believe they'd want me in your life?" It's stupid, he knows. It's not their choice. "Sakamoto, Takamaki, and even Niijima-san may begrudgingly accept. Kitagawa, perhaps... But my presence will create friction. It's simply inescapable. Without a common goal bringing us together, I'm a constant reminder of their pain and loss. Boss as well... I know Wakaba Isshiki meant a great deal to him."

Is he deflecting? Perhaps. That doesn't make it any less true.

But there's something his words fail to convey, however soft. Yearning... Oh, how he wants to believe it's so simple. To have someone fight for him, to need him.

But he can't just say that. He's too proud. To stubborn. Far too burdened.