Chapter 43.5: The Sharpness of Things Left Unsaid.
It was already dark when Ren found himself walking beside Akeshi, not entirely sure how he got there.
He didn't remember agreeing to meet.
Didn't remember deciding to talk.
But Akeshi was the type of person who didn't ask.
He just made it feel like things were already happening.
"Yo," Akeshi said as they walked. "You're leaking."
Ren blinked. "What?"
"You. The way you walk. It's too contained. Like you're trying not to spill something."
Ren exhaled. "That's a poetic way of saying I'm tense."
"No. That's a poetic way of saying you're pretending to be normal and failing miserably."
Ren turned his head. "You always this direct?"
Akeshi shrugged. "You're always this obvious?"
"...Guess I am."
They turned a corner.
And just like that, they were at Akeshi's place.
.
.
.
.
.
It was a surprisingly good apartment.
Tall windows. Clean floor. A faint smell of old wood and something fried.
Ren looked around and raised an eyebrow. "You live alone?"
"Sort of. This is technically my manager's place. He owns the café I part-time at. I'm 'crashing' here."
Ren stepped in slowly. "It's nice. Kinda expensive-looking."
"The last one got trashed."
Ren glanced over.
"...By my lover," Akeshi added without pause.
"...Ex?"
"No. Just... lover." He pulled open a drawer and took out some mismatched kitchenware. "Ex is too definite a word."
Ren didn't press.
Akeshi turned on the gas stove. The fire whooshed into life, and he got to work-moving with an effortless rhythm.
Chopping. Stirring. Sliding. Flipping.
Ren watched him.
And then frowned.
"Your hands," Ren said.
"Hm?"
"They move like a killer's."
Akeshi looked at him.
Not alarmed. Just... interested.
"You've met one?"
"No," Ren said too quickly. "Just... watched someone once. A long time ago."
In his mind, a memory returned.
A room without windows.
A man in a tattered apron.
Golden eyes.
A blade that sang when it touched bone.
And a stench-something burnt and wrong.
He cooked a man.
Not metaphorically.
Not theatrically.
Literally.
Ren blinked it away.
His stomach turned-but not because of Akeshi's food.
"So." Akeshi slid a plate toward him-some twisted, overcooked omelet layered with mysterious sauce.
Ren took a bite. Surprisingly edible. In fact-pretty damn good.
"I'm going to say something insane," Akeshi said. "And you're allowed to punch me if I'm off."
"Go ahead."
"You're not... from here, are you?"
Ren paused mid-chew.
Akeshi continued, unfazed. "Not just the usual 'you transferred from another district' type of 'not from here'. I mean-not from this time."
Ren said nothing.
"I've read too much sci-fi," Akeshi added. "Especially time-travel stuff. It ruins your brain. Now I see time travelers everywhere."
Ren placed his chopsticks down slowly. "... Why do you think that?"
"You talk like someone in mourning. But you haven't lost anything."
Akeshi leaned forward.
"You speak with authority. But you're not from a position of power."
He tapped Ren's temple with his chopsticks.
"And your eyes-they never match the moment. Always somewhere after it."
Ren narrowed his eyes. "That's dangerously observant."
"I get bored easily," Akeshi said. "And observing people is like my coping mechanism for not smashing vending machines."
Ren chuckled under his breath.
But something about Akeshi's gaze-so casual, so offhand-felt like it was peeling layers off him without permission.
"I won't ask you to confirm anything," Akeshi said. "But I'm guessing your heart's confused. You're playing a role, but the lines don't match anymore."
Ren looked away. "...You're making me feel like I'm giving too much away."
"You are."
A beat.
"You've also got someone on your mind."
Ren didn't reply.
"Mahiru-sensei?"
He looked up sharply.
Akeshi smirked. "Thought so."
Ren tried to deflect. "You seem very invested in my romantic crisis."
"Not really. But I think you're clinging to something impossible. You're trying to rewrite the past into something cleaner."
Ren stared at him.
Akeshi leaned back, chewing on a rice cracker.
"Try going for Shimo instead."
Ren blinked. "Shimo? How do you even-?"
"I've seen her," Akeshi said with a shrug. "She has the eyes of a perfectionist. That kind of girl burns hard and bright for a long time. You need that. Someone who'll challenge you without realizing it."
"That's... oddly insightful."
"It's also baseless. I just said that to make you rethink your life decisions."
"Right," Ren muttered, sipping the tea Akeshi placed beside him.
He looked around again. The room felt alive in a way his own had never been.
Not because of decoration or smell.
But because someone like Akeshi lived in it-messy, observant, casually sharp.
Later, as the clock ticked closer to midnight, Akeshi flopped onto the couch.
Ren sat near the window, staring at the blurred reflection of his own face.
Past. Future. Blood. Memory. Cannibalism. Love.
A soup of identities fighting to hold the same space.
"Hey, Ren."
"Yeah?"
"If you are from the future," Akeshi murmured without looking, "you're doing a terrible job hiding it."
Ren smiled faintly. "I'll work on that."