Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2022-07-13 07:00 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2022-07-13 07:00 pm
Entry tags:
Fanfiction: Puppetry (Persona 5, Akechi/protagonist)
This one's for you, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
futuresoon.
Title: Puppetry
Fandom: Persona 5 Royal
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Protagonist/Akechi
Wordcount: 2,100
Summary: “You’re daydreaming me into existence?” Akechi asks. “This is pathetic.”
Warnings: Unwanted kissing, dark implications
Ren half-glances up. Grabs his bag, scrambles to his feet. Hurtles out of the train door.
“Ow!” Morgana yelps from the bag. “What’s going on?”
The doors close, and the train starts moving. He guesses he’s not going home on that, then.
More importantly—
“I saw Akechi,” he says.
“What?” Morgana asks. “No, you didn’t. Akechi’s...”
He tails off in a low, uneasy mumble. Ren’s still staring around the platform.
He was here. He was...
He wasn’t, was he? Morgana’s right; Akechi is dead, and Ren is imagining things.
But there’s a weird thought underneath that. In the same moment, his mind is telling him Akechi is dead and you should keep looking for him.
Akechi’s by the vending machine, he decides.
He turns around and looks.
Akechi is leaning against the vending machine, looking straight at him, his expression livid.
He isn’t really there, of course. He wasn’t there a moment ago. He shot himself dead in Shido’s Palace; Ren heard him die.
But he’s there.
“You’re daydreaming me into existence?” Akechi asks. “This is pathetic.”
And Morgana doesn’t say anything. That’s the final confirmation; there’s no way Morgana wouldn’t react if Akechi were really there.
“Guess so,” Ren says.
“Right?” Morgana says, and it takes Ren a moment to realise what this sounds like from Morgana’s perspective. Ren confirming that he couldn’t have seen Akechi, he guesses. “Let’s just go. Your ticket’s okay for the train in an hour, right?”
“I can’t believe you missed your train for this nonsense,” Akechi says.
“You’re getting on the next one with me,” Ren says.
“Uh, yeah, I hope so,” Morgana says, at the same time Akechi, arms folded and eyebrows raised, says, “Oh, am I?”
Ren nods. “I’m not abandoning you again.”
Morgana hesitates. “Th-thanks?”
“You didn’t abandon me,” Akechi says. “I made my own decision. I don’t know why you think I’d appreciate you making decisions for me now.” He shrugs. “Besides, I’m not real. You can’t do anything for the living Goro Akechi. Formerly living.”
“I’m creating my own reality,” Ren says.
Akechi gives him a look of great disdain. “Without the Metaverse to back it up, that’s called ‘deluding yourself’.”
Ren shrugs. “I’m fine with that.”
“And what about my wishes?” Akechi asks. “I’m not Maruki’s puppet any more; do you expect me to put up with being yours?”
“You just said you aren’t real,” Ren says. “I’m not sure it’s possible for you to have wishes.”
Akechi bares his teeth in a near-snarl.
“Uh,” Morgana says. “Are... are you okay, Ren?”
“I’m fine,” Ren says, never taking his eyes off Akechi.
Akechi complains about being dragged around for the entire hour-long wait. But he gets on the train when it comes.
-
“You wouldn’t talk to me in front of your parents,” Akechi says, when Ren’s unpacking in his room.
“They’d think I’ve lost it,” Ren says.
“And would they be wrong?” Akechi asks. “Is this normal behaviour?”
“Have you lost it?” Morgana asks, overlapping with him. He’s sitting on Ren’s bed; he claimed it the moment they were in his bedroom. “’Cause I’m really worried about you.”
“The cat has a point,” Akechi says. “I notice you’ll still talk to me in front of him.”
It’s not like Morgana’s going to tell anyone else what’s going on; most people can’t understand him, and he can’t use a phone. But it’s probably unfair to leave him like this.
“Sorry, Morgana,” Ren says. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”
Even if he’s not sure how to explain this, really.
“Oh, are you actually paying attention to me now?” Morgana asks, half concerned and half affronted. “Who’ve you been talking to?”
“Akechi,” Ren says. “I would’ve thought you’d have guessed by now.”
Morgana’s tail twitches restlessly. “I mean, yeah, that’s what it sounded like, but...” He lowers his ears a little. “Akechi is dead. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“So... what’s going on?” Morgana asks.
“Tell him,” Akechi says. “Tell him you’re almost a full-grown adult, and you’ve decided to waste your time and mine by playing a game of pretend.”
Ren sighs. “I can’t really put it into words.”
Morgana’s fur almost leaps up in indignation. “You said you owed me an explanation!”
“Sorry,” Ren says. “It’s complicated.”
“Ugh,” Morgana says. “Fine. But don’t ignore me any more, okay?”
-
Morgana’s stopped asking to be taken everywhere with Ren; maybe Ren talking to Akechi is making him too uncomfortable. Ren feels a little bad about it. But he’s not ready to let Akechi go.
The diner near his parents’ place is surprisingly noisy and busy for its size. Not the best environment for reading, perhaps, but at least it means Ren might avoid stares if he talks to Akechi. If you’re with someone who’s not really there, it’s hard to have a subtle conversation in a quiet room.
Akechi doesn’t take the seat opposite Ren; he stays standing by the side of the table, like he’s planning to leave any moment. But he hasn’t left yet.
“You don’t really know me, you know,” Akechi says. “We were acquainted for, what, a few months? You have no way of knowing if I’m saying things the real Akechi would say.”
“I suspect I still know you better than most people do,” Ren says, keeping his focus on his book.
“Than most people did,” Akechi corrects him. “I’m dead, in case you forgot.”
Ren leans his folded arms on the table, looks up at him. “This isn’t helping me read.”
Akechi stares at him in incredulous outrage. “You’re going to pretend me into existence and then tell me to shut up?”
Ren considers his answer to that for a moment. “Yes.”
“If your goal was to make me envy the dead version of myself, you’ve succeeded,” Akechi says. “You can let me go now.”
Accept reality, let go, move on. Maybe. It’s probably the sensible thing to do.
But he and all his friends awakened to their Personas because they refused to accept their situations. They decided to rebel. It’s the source of their power, it’s the root of everything he achieved in Tokyo. He can’t reverse death; that doesn’t necessarily mean he has to accept it.
Maybe thinking like that makes him like Maruki. But Maruki was deciding everyone’s life for them. Ren’s making a decision that only affects himself.
“It affects me as well,” Akechi says. His voice is completely flat; it’s impressive how much fury somehow shows through it. Something about the pacing of the words, the overpronounced edges of the syllables.
Ren frowns at him.
“Do you expect me to pretend I don’t know what you’re thinking?” Akechi asks. “I’m imaginary. I exist in your mind. If you don’t want me to look at what’s in there, get rid of me.”
“Nice try,” Ren says, looking back down at his book.
Akechi throws himself into the seat opposite him with impressive violence; it’d probably cause a stir if he were real. When Ren looks up a few minutes later, Akechi is scowling at him; he’s probably been scowling at him the entire time.
It’s relaxing, somehow. Ren looks back at his book with a smile.
-
It’s strange how much Ren misses his attic room in Leblanc. It was too hot in the summer, too cold in the winter. The floorboards squeaked, and he never completely unpacked, so the room always had an unfinished feel to it. But he’d give a lot to be back there.
At least he’s managed to bring a few fragments of Tokyo back with him. He’s been setting up all the souvenirs from his friends, all the toys he won from the crane machine in Akihabara. Morgana’s elsewhere, probably pestering Ren’s mom for his supper, which isn’t due for another hour; he really is a cat sometimes.
Akechi, of course, is here; Ren never lets him get too far away. He’s afraid that, if he lets the illusion drop for a moment, he might not be able to get it back again.
“Do you expect to keep me around for the rest of your life?” Akechi asks.
“Guess we’ll see,” Ren says, sticking up the last of the glow-in-the-dark stars he got from Yusuke.
Akechi makes a low, irritated noise. “What is it that you actually get out of this?”
Ren climbs down off the chair he’s been using to reach the ceiling, looking over at him. Akechi is standing by the window, hands in his pockets. No; it’s not the right body language, it doesn’t fit him. He takes his hands out of his pockets and lets them rest at his sides.
“Is it simple masochism?” Akechi asks. “Are you incapable of functioning like a human being without me there to criticise you? Why am I here?”
“I want you around,” Ren says.
Akechi’s eyes narrow. “I find that extremely hard to believe.”
“You said you could see what’s in my head,” Ren says. Moving closer, studying his reactions. “What’s the answer in there?”
“Nothing you’ve put in the work to analyse,” Akechi says. “I’m not going to do the work of interpreting your feelings for you. If you’re going to make me suffer, you could at least have the courtesy to explain why.”
“You’re not real,” Ren points out.
He looks so solid, though; he seems more real every day. Maybe Ren’s just getting better at deluding himself.
Akechi rolls his eyes. “And isn’t that a convenient excuse to—”
The words die when Ren kisses him.
There’s no real sensation to it, of course; it’s not really happening. But, if Ren focuses, he can almost feel it: the feathering of Akechi’s hair around his fingers, Akechi’s mouth against his own.
Akechi pushing him away.
Ren stumbles back, breathing hard, although of course there was no actual physical force to it.
Akechi’s eyes are wide, his eyebrows drawn down, in a way that makes him look both furious and terrified. His gloved fingers against his own mouth, half-shielding it.
“Sorry,” Ren says. “I thought—”
I thought you’d be okay with it? He knew very well that this would be Akechi’s reaction; that’s why it’s the reaction he pictured.
He turns away, focuses on his bookshelves. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I was thinking at all.”
There’s a very long silence. The entire time, he’s aware of Akechi watching him.
“You could have pretended that I’d enjoy that,” Akechi says at last.
The thought had crossed his mind. Of course it had crossed his mind; it’s being suggested by a figment of his imagination. “Seemed too creepy.”
“Creepier than imagining that you’d kiss me and I wouldn’t want it?” Akechi asks.
Ren weighs his thoughts, rolls them around in his palm, trying to clean away the grit so he can see them clearly. “I’m trying to keep you true to yourself.”
“Because it’s a violation to make me into someone else,” Akechi says. “But not to kiss me against my will?”
Ren pauses for a moment. “You’d hate the first one more.”
Akechi lets out a long, frustrated huff of breath.
“You’re right,” he says, at last. “But I’m not going to thank you.”
More silence. Ren finally finds the nerve to look back at Akechi. His arms are folded, and the expression of horror has cleared from his face; he looks thoughtful.
“How did you feel about me, exactly?” Akechi asks.
Ren shrugs. “If you don’t know, I don’t know.”
“Then this is you asking yourself,” Akechi says. “Don’t try to weasel out of introspection. It’s clear you need it.”
Ren just looks evenly back at him. He’s an expert in the uncomfortable silence. When quiet falls in a conversation, he’s never the one to break first.
“Fine,” Akechi says. “I’m just here for your use, apparently. Why would I ever think you’d respect me enough to give me answers?”
He goes quiet again, looks out of the window.
Ren stays where he is, watching him breathe. Here in Ren’s room, with nobody else to disprove his existence, it’s hard to believe that he’s not really here.
But, if he were real, he’d have left.
It’s a thought that bothers Ren. He said he was trying to keep Akechi true to himself. But he’s been twisting Akechi’s behaviour from the start to keep him close; there’s no point in imagining Akechi’s still alive if he isn’t still in Ren’s life.
“How long are you going to respect anything else about me?” Akechi asks, still looking out of the window. His voice is flat, almost bored.
Ren’s been trying to skirt around that thought. He guesses that’s the disadvantage of having an imaginary friend who can dig up everything in your head.
It’s possible that ‘friend’ isn’t the right word.
“Does that scare you?” Ren asks.
Akechi looks back at him, straightening his cuffs in a movement that feels anything but casual. “Only if you want it to, I suppose.”
futuresoon.Title: Puppetry
Fandom: Persona 5 Royal
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Protagonist/Akechi
Wordcount: 2,100
Summary: “You’re daydreaming me into existence?” Akechi asks. “This is pathetic.”
Warnings: Unwanted kissing, dark implications
Ren half-glances up. Grabs his bag, scrambles to his feet. Hurtles out of the train door.
“Ow!” Morgana yelps from the bag. “What’s going on?”
The doors close, and the train starts moving. He guesses he’s not going home on that, then.
More importantly—
“I saw Akechi,” he says.
“What?” Morgana asks. “No, you didn’t. Akechi’s...”
He tails off in a low, uneasy mumble. Ren’s still staring around the platform.
He was here. He was...
He wasn’t, was he? Morgana’s right; Akechi is dead, and Ren is imagining things.
But there’s a weird thought underneath that. In the same moment, his mind is telling him Akechi is dead and you should keep looking for him.
Akechi’s by the vending machine, he decides.
He turns around and looks.
Akechi is leaning against the vending machine, looking straight at him, his expression livid.
He isn’t really there, of course. He wasn’t there a moment ago. He shot himself dead in Shido’s Palace; Ren heard him die.
But he’s there.
“You’re daydreaming me into existence?” Akechi asks. “This is pathetic.”
And Morgana doesn’t say anything. That’s the final confirmation; there’s no way Morgana wouldn’t react if Akechi were really there.
“Guess so,” Ren says.
“Right?” Morgana says, and it takes Ren a moment to realise what this sounds like from Morgana’s perspective. Ren confirming that he couldn’t have seen Akechi, he guesses. “Let’s just go. Your ticket’s okay for the train in an hour, right?”
“I can’t believe you missed your train for this nonsense,” Akechi says.
“You’re getting on the next one with me,” Ren says.
“Uh, yeah, I hope so,” Morgana says, at the same time Akechi, arms folded and eyebrows raised, says, “Oh, am I?”
Ren nods. “I’m not abandoning you again.”
Morgana hesitates. “Th-thanks?”
“You didn’t abandon me,” Akechi says. “I made my own decision. I don’t know why you think I’d appreciate you making decisions for me now.” He shrugs. “Besides, I’m not real. You can’t do anything for the living Goro Akechi. Formerly living.”
“I’m creating my own reality,” Ren says.
Akechi gives him a look of great disdain. “Without the Metaverse to back it up, that’s called ‘deluding yourself’.”
Ren shrugs. “I’m fine with that.”
“And what about my wishes?” Akechi asks. “I’m not Maruki’s puppet any more; do you expect me to put up with being yours?”
“You just said you aren’t real,” Ren says. “I’m not sure it’s possible for you to have wishes.”
Akechi bares his teeth in a near-snarl.
“Uh,” Morgana says. “Are... are you okay, Ren?”
“I’m fine,” Ren says, never taking his eyes off Akechi.
Akechi complains about being dragged around for the entire hour-long wait. But he gets on the train when it comes.
“You wouldn’t talk to me in front of your parents,” Akechi says, when Ren’s unpacking in his room.
“They’d think I’ve lost it,” Ren says.
“And would they be wrong?” Akechi asks. “Is this normal behaviour?”
“Have you lost it?” Morgana asks, overlapping with him. He’s sitting on Ren’s bed; he claimed it the moment they were in his bedroom. “’Cause I’m really worried about you.”
“The cat has a point,” Akechi says. “I notice you’ll still talk to me in front of him.”
It’s not like Morgana’s going to tell anyone else what’s going on; most people can’t understand him, and he can’t use a phone. But it’s probably unfair to leave him like this.
“Sorry, Morgana,” Ren says. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”
Even if he’s not sure how to explain this, really.
“Oh, are you actually paying attention to me now?” Morgana asks, half concerned and half affronted. “Who’ve you been talking to?”
“Akechi,” Ren says. “I would’ve thought you’d have guessed by now.”
Morgana’s tail twitches restlessly. “I mean, yeah, that’s what it sounded like, but...” He lowers his ears a little. “Akechi is dead. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
“So... what’s going on?” Morgana asks.
“Tell him,” Akechi says. “Tell him you’re almost a full-grown adult, and you’ve decided to waste your time and mine by playing a game of pretend.”
Ren sighs. “I can’t really put it into words.”
Morgana’s fur almost leaps up in indignation. “You said you owed me an explanation!”
“Sorry,” Ren says. “It’s complicated.”
“Ugh,” Morgana says. “Fine. But don’t ignore me any more, okay?”
Morgana’s stopped asking to be taken everywhere with Ren; maybe Ren talking to Akechi is making him too uncomfortable. Ren feels a little bad about it. But he’s not ready to let Akechi go.
The diner near his parents’ place is surprisingly noisy and busy for its size. Not the best environment for reading, perhaps, but at least it means Ren might avoid stares if he talks to Akechi. If you’re with someone who’s not really there, it’s hard to have a subtle conversation in a quiet room.
Akechi doesn’t take the seat opposite Ren; he stays standing by the side of the table, like he’s planning to leave any moment. But he hasn’t left yet.
“You don’t really know me, you know,” Akechi says. “We were acquainted for, what, a few months? You have no way of knowing if I’m saying things the real Akechi would say.”
“I suspect I still know you better than most people do,” Ren says, keeping his focus on his book.
“Than most people did,” Akechi corrects him. “I’m dead, in case you forgot.”
Ren leans his folded arms on the table, looks up at him. “This isn’t helping me read.”
Akechi stares at him in incredulous outrage. “You’re going to pretend me into existence and then tell me to shut up?”
Ren considers his answer to that for a moment. “Yes.”
“If your goal was to make me envy the dead version of myself, you’ve succeeded,” Akechi says. “You can let me go now.”
Accept reality, let go, move on. Maybe. It’s probably the sensible thing to do.
But he and all his friends awakened to their Personas because they refused to accept their situations. They decided to rebel. It’s the source of their power, it’s the root of everything he achieved in Tokyo. He can’t reverse death; that doesn’t necessarily mean he has to accept it.
Maybe thinking like that makes him like Maruki. But Maruki was deciding everyone’s life for them. Ren’s making a decision that only affects himself.
“It affects me as well,” Akechi says. His voice is completely flat; it’s impressive how much fury somehow shows through it. Something about the pacing of the words, the overpronounced edges of the syllables.
Ren frowns at him.
“Do you expect me to pretend I don’t know what you’re thinking?” Akechi asks. “I’m imaginary. I exist in your mind. If you don’t want me to look at what’s in there, get rid of me.”
“Nice try,” Ren says, looking back down at his book.
Akechi throws himself into the seat opposite him with impressive violence; it’d probably cause a stir if he were real. When Ren looks up a few minutes later, Akechi is scowling at him; he’s probably been scowling at him the entire time.
It’s relaxing, somehow. Ren looks back at his book with a smile.
It’s strange how much Ren misses his attic room in Leblanc. It was too hot in the summer, too cold in the winter. The floorboards squeaked, and he never completely unpacked, so the room always had an unfinished feel to it. But he’d give a lot to be back there.
At least he’s managed to bring a few fragments of Tokyo back with him. He’s been setting up all the souvenirs from his friends, all the toys he won from the crane machine in Akihabara. Morgana’s elsewhere, probably pestering Ren’s mom for his supper, which isn’t due for another hour; he really is a cat sometimes.
Akechi, of course, is here; Ren never lets him get too far away. He’s afraid that, if he lets the illusion drop for a moment, he might not be able to get it back again.
“Do you expect to keep me around for the rest of your life?” Akechi asks.
“Guess we’ll see,” Ren says, sticking up the last of the glow-in-the-dark stars he got from Yusuke.
Akechi makes a low, irritated noise. “What is it that you actually get out of this?”
Ren climbs down off the chair he’s been using to reach the ceiling, looking over at him. Akechi is standing by the window, hands in his pockets. No; it’s not the right body language, it doesn’t fit him. He takes his hands out of his pockets and lets them rest at his sides.
“Is it simple masochism?” Akechi asks. “Are you incapable of functioning like a human being without me there to criticise you? Why am I here?”
“I want you around,” Ren says.
Akechi’s eyes narrow. “I find that extremely hard to believe.”
“You said you could see what’s in my head,” Ren says. Moving closer, studying his reactions. “What’s the answer in there?”
“Nothing you’ve put in the work to analyse,” Akechi says. “I’m not going to do the work of interpreting your feelings for you. If you’re going to make me suffer, you could at least have the courtesy to explain why.”
“You’re not real,” Ren points out.
He looks so solid, though; he seems more real every day. Maybe Ren’s just getting better at deluding himself.
Akechi rolls his eyes. “And isn’t that a convenient excuse to—”
The words die when Ren kisses him.
There’s no real sensation to it, of course; it’s not really happening. But, if Ren focuses, he can almost feel it: the feathering of Akechi’s hair around his fingers, Akechi’s mouth against his own.
Akechi pushing him away.
Ren stumbles back, breathing hard, although of course there was no actual physical force to it.
Akechi’s eyes are wide, his eyebrows drawn down, in a way that makes him look both furious and terrified. His gloved fingers against his own mouth, half-shielding it.
“Sorry,” Ren says. “I thought—”
I thought you’d be okay with it? He knew very well that this would be Akechi’s reaction; that’s why it’s the reaction he pictured.
He turns away, focuses on his bookshelves. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I was thinking at all.”
There’s a very long silence. The entire time, he’s aware of Akechi watching him.
“You could have pretended that I’d enjoy that,” Akechi says at last.
The thought had crossed his mind. Of course it had crossed his mind; it’s being suggested by a figment of his imagination. “Seemed too creepy.”
“Creepier than imagining that you’d kiss me and I wouldn’t want it?” Akechi asks.
Ren weighs his thoughts, rolls them around in his palm, trying to clean away the grit so he can see them clearly. “I’m trying to keep you true to yourself.”
“Because it’s a violation to make me into someone else,” Akechi says. “But not to kiss me against my will?”
Ren pauses for a moment. “You’d hate the first one more.”
Akechi lets out a long, frustrated huff of breath.
“You’re right,” he says, at last. “But I’m not going to thank you.”
More silence. Ren finally finds the nerve to look back at Akechi. His arms are folded, and the expression of horror has cleared from his face; he looks thoughtful.
“How did you feel about me, exactly?” Akechi asks.
Ren shrugs. “If you don’t know, I don’t know.”
“Then this is you asking yourself,” Akechi says. “Don’t try to weasel out of introspection. It’s clear you need it.”
Ren just looks evenly back at him. He’s an expert in the uncomfortable silence. When quiet falls in a conversation, he’s never the one to break first.
“Fine,” Akechi says. “I’m just here for your use, apparently. Why would I ever think you’d respect me enough to give me answers?”
He goes quiet again, looks out of the window.
Ren stays where he is, watching him breathe. Here in Ren’s room, with nobody else to disprove his existence, it’s hard to believe that he’s not really here.
But, if he were real, he’d have left.
It’s a thought that bothers Ren. He said he was trying to keep Akechi true to himself. But he’s been twisting Akechi’s behaviour from the start to keep him close; there’s no point in imagining Akechi’s still alive if he isn’t still in Ren’s life.
“How long are you going to respect anything else about me?” Akechi asks, still looking out of the window. His voice is flat, almost bored.
Ren’s been trying to skirt around that thought. He guesses that’s the disadvantage of having an imaginary friend who can dig up everything in your head.
It’s possible that ‘friend’ isn’t the right word.
“Does that scare you?” Ren asks.
Akechi looks back at him, straightening his cuffs in a movement that feels anything but casual. “Only if you want it to, I suppose.”
no subject
The concept of this fic is very interesting too. It's a little twisted but in sad cute way.
no subject
like bother Ren while he's reading
I didn't even catch that! The curse of never being able to finish a book.
Thank you so much!
no subject
no subject