Archive of Our Own ^beta

Junpei sat huddled in a corner of the hotel bar with an untouched drink, considering a past that hadn’t happened.

The participants of the Dcom experiment were regrouping in a hotel on the outskirts of town while they waited for Crash Keys to bring them somewhere secure. They’d filed into a few town cars that were willing to pick them up from the middle of nowhere and headed for the closest place with open rooms and central air.

“I have to give you this for real,” he’d said, taking care to put the ring on the correct hand this time. He hadn’t asked for her answer, rushing to catch up with another version of himself. Akane accepted with tears in her eyes and laughed like she couldn’t believe it was true when she saw it on her finger. She fell asleep on his shoulder as they left the open desert, exhausted and seemingly content. Despite this, Junpei’s mood was tense. Left alone with his memories, he sat defeated by the knowledge that he would always be hers, in a way that she would never be his.

When they reached the hotel, Akane and the others went to their rooms to rest, while he went to the bar to drink and sort out his thoughts alone.

Back in the shelter, he’d remembered innumerable things in an instant. How many times had he died alongside Akane with their fates hanging on a roll of the dice? How many times had he given his life for her, or taken that of Carlos on her behalf? How many times did they make some small reconnection only to have all hope for the future torn from them before it could grow into something real?

There was no way for him to disentangle the countless threads of every decision they had made at Dcom. In the midst of the commotion, he hadn’t dwelled on any of them. But once things were quiet, two of those memories weighed on him more heavily than any other:

Akane had accepted his proposal, and she had abandoned him again shortly after.

Technically, to anyone who hadn’t been in the Decision Game (and even some who were), none of the things he remembered had actually happened. They were all theoretical. In this timeline, she hadn’t left him, they were alive, and they could be together.

But he knew what she was capable of. She would always disappear on her own terms without a word, leaving him just enough pieces of his heart and sanity to carry on with his search for her.

When she first disappeared, he knew exactly what would happen when he found her. She would be waiting for him. They would embrace each other and laugh, she would explain everything, and they would figure out their next steps together. Thinking back on it embarrassed him—how naïve and trusting he’d still been. He didn’t want to be vulnerable anymore.

The more time went on as he searched for her, the less sure he became of what he was going to do when he found her. As time went on even longer, he began to wonder if he would find her at all. The more theoretical their reunion became, the less willing he was to acknowledge the pathetic truth: none of it mattered. No matter how much he suffered at her hands, he was fully devoted to her.

At a certain point, logic told him to give up. She had gotten what she needed from him and never needed to see him again. He was just chasing heartbreak. But something deeper in him knew that logic was wrong. Conventional wisdom knew nothing of their invisible connections through time and space, and therefore had nothing meaningful to say about their relationship. Not that Junpei understood it either, but he still knew it was true.

Junpei stared at the drink in front of him and slowly rotated the glass on the table. He’d been so stuck in his head he hadn’t taken a single sip yet. The ice had almost fully melted into a layer of water atop the alcohol. He stuck out a finger and drew nine strokes in the condensation:

茜

Beads of water rushed down to erase her name almost as soon as he had written it. He wiped the surface clean with his thumb and finally took a sip. If he couldn’t have a whole bottle to himself, a watered-down well drink seemed just about right for the occasion.

Before he met “June,” Junpei assumed that people were fundamentally good. People could do bad things, but it wasn’t their nature. His participation in the second Nonary Game taught him that people were capable of not just committing evil acts, but truly being evil. There was no other way to explain Hongou and his cohorts. He still thought that things happened for a reason, though. He’d gone through a lot of shit, but anything would be worth it to save Akane. After he became a detective, however, his remaining optimism quickly soured. He had seen firsthand that the world was a senseless and cruel place. He would do what he could to make it better, but all things considered, he was almost powerless.

And so Junpei had gone on for a year, steadily replacing all the vulnerable parts of himself with hardened resentment. Really it was only one thing about him that had remained the same: he still loved her. No matter how bitter he became, or how weak it made him feel, he never doubted it.

Someone entering the room broke him out of his thoughts. Noticing that it was Sigma in the doorway, Junpei shrank into himself, hoping to avoid eye contact and any sort of obligation to talk. He came here to wallow in self-pity uninterrupted. No such luck—Sigma gave him a small smile and held up his hand in a wave. Junpei reluctantly held his up in response, hunched over the table. There was no one else in the bar.

Sigma put an order in at the counter and, after waiting for his drinks to be poured, walked back to Junpei, placing two glasses on the table.

“So,” Sigma patted him on the back like an old man. “You gave her the ring, huh?”

He downed the rest of his drink. For whatever they’d been through together, he didn’t actually know the man. “Yeah… don’t know if I should have, but I did.”

“No, I don’t mean…” Sigma faltered, having expected a different reaction. “I mean, you’re the one who gave it to her. The ring she always had on her right hand. I had a hunch but she never told me.”

“Sorry?” Junpei’s body went numb.

Clearly, none of this was going the way Sigma intended. He stood in uncomfortable silence before finally pulling a chair over to sit down, his gaze avoiding Junpei. When he looked up and spoke again, his voice was now low and serious. “That future I said we needed to avoid when we got to Dcom… it’s one where I worked with Akane for decades. She was still wearing that ring into her sixties. I don’t think she ever took it off.”

Junpei’s heart caught in his throat. “Where am I in this future?”

A painful pause.

“Look, Junpei, in almost every possible scenario we’re all having a bad time but doing what we can to fix things. I just wanted to congratulate you on making it to a world where we avoided that.”

He held his glass out and Junpei humored him by clinking his own against it. He took a sip and tasted… brandy? Seriously, how fucking old was this guy again? Sigma smiled a bit stiffly, but Junpei still wasn’t willing to lighten the mood.

“What would you do?” he asked over the rim of his glass. He didn’t actually care about Sigma’s opinion but he could stand to hear a thought outside of his own head.

“In your situation?” Sigma looked at him incredulously. “You mean, if I got what I wanted? Marry her and never look back.” He finished the remaining brandy in his snifter and got up.

“Getting here was the hard part—I’m sure you can handle the rest.” He left with a nod of his head.

Fuck that. Where did Sigma get off giving him an inspirational pep talk?

From what little he knew, Sigma might have actually been the only person qualified for it, but that didn’t make Junpei any less irritated. And anyway, had he really gotten what he wanted? Sure, he was the one who’d given Akane her ring, but obviously that didn’t guarantee he’d be there to see her wear it a year from now. What was the significance of the ring if he wasn’t by her side?

He slowly savored the last of his brandy and contemplated ordering another drink. As it was, the alcohol just increased his anxiety—he’d need at least one more to be disinhibited enough to feel brave. But he knew Akane would be disappointed if he really got drunk. He buried his head in his arms, crossed on the table. It was becoming clear that he was looking for reasons to avoid going back to their room because he felt almost certain he would return to find it empty.

Fine, ruminating wasn’t going to get him anywhere. If he needed to get back on the road again, he should find out sooner than later. Junpei took a deep breath and braced himself for whatever he was going to find upstairs.

He’d stayed in countless hotels following leads as a detective and nothing about this one stood out from any other. There should have been something special about a place where Akane could actually be found. He should be able to sense it without having to see it for himself. Of all people, he should be able to sense when she was there.

He didn’t dare to breathe as he pulled the keycard from his pocket and inserted it into the lock. Turning the handle, he tensed as though he’d have to deactivate a bomb in his stomach on the other side. There were timelines where she would be there, and timelines where the room would be empty. Until he opened the door, he existed in both realities.

Time to observe the contents of the box.

“I’m home,” he called out tentatively, leaving his shoes by the door.

“Welcome back, Junpei,” a bright voice greeted him from by the window.

Akane was somehow already hard at work, having filled half a complementary notepad with cryptic notes and diagrams, pages laid out in an inscrutable order on the floor. The setting desert sun through the window backlit her, casting a halo of light outlining her profile at the desk.

“You’re here,” he said simply. He sat on the edge of the bed alongside her.

“I’m here.” She knew the weight of his statement, but her tone was light.

He stared at her as she kept putting her thoughts to paper, never pausing to consider anything before writing it down. She was perfect, and beautiful, and infuriating.

“How can I trust you?” he finally asked. “What will it take for you to promise not to leave me and mean it?”

She tore a finished sheet from the notepad and swiveled her chair to place it with the others.

“I saw you die too, Junpei,” she kept her eyes on the floor as she spoke. “Over and over in the Decision Game. More than anything, more than being with you, my top priority is to avoid that outcome. If that’s not a concern then you have nothing to worry about,” she stood up and approached him, her gaze still downcast. “Because if your future is secure, then we live in a history that I’ve spent every other life I’ve lived trying to create.”

When she looked up again with a soft smile, her eyes were full of tears.

He pulled her into his arms reflexively. God, he forgave her. Of course he forgave her. He knew the problems she was up against were on a scale he wasn’t equipped to fully understand. Offering to protect her wouldn’t mean anything. But he would do anything to support her, and there must be things he could do for her that no one else could.

“Seriously, I don’t care what happens to me—never leave me again.”

She pulled back and looked at him, raising his face by his chin. His heart rate rose with it, each beat pounding in his ears. All he wanted was to be close to her. It was pitiful, actually—as far as he remembered, he still hadn’t experienced a single timeline where they’d so much as kissed. He wondered if she had.

Then suddenly, finally, she gave him her answer. She softly pressed her mouth to his in a solemn promise. “You’ll just have to come with me, Jumpy,” she murmured.

“Anywhere,” he said, breathless. A year’s worth of tension woven throughout his body retreated at her touch.

She threw her arms around his neck and knocked him down on the bed with a laugh, and he held onto her for dear life. Thrown by her weight and with his face buried in her hair, breathing in the synthetic citrus of Dcom shampoo, it began to dawn on him that this was real. Even after all the bizarre experiences he’d been through since they were first reunited, nothing had felt as surreal to him as holding Akane in this moment.

But it was really her—her lips on his, her warmth beckoning him closer, her legs entangled with his, her hands grasping at his clothes—

It was as though he’d been chasing after her at full speed, and when she stopped suddenly and turned to him, the moment they collided she’d become a bottomless pool. In an instant he was drowning in her.

He would have dove in without a second thought anyway.

He kissed her like it would be his only chance—not in desperation, but savoring every touch and breath between them. Feeling how she melted against him, though, told him that she hadn’t lied. She loved him the way he always thought she did.

Bending his knee up between her legs, he brought his attention to her neck, eliciting a whine from her as he ran his mouth across her pulse. He’d never heard her voice take that tone, and it hit him with an invigorating jolt. He took advantage of her one second of weakness to take the upper hand—she could stand to relinquish it for a few minutes in her life—and rolled over to pin her on the bed.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d fallen asleep without images of them like this stuck in his mind, but his imagination couldn’t even come close to the reality. The charged air, the ceaseless flutter in his chest. He could get used to the sight of her underneath him, her face flushed and eyes for him alone.

“Come on, Jumpy,” she reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. “I think we’ve waited long enough.”

I don’t know, I think I could hold out another two minutes without dying, he mused, knowing the truth was closer to 10 seconds.

“I just… have to confirm something.”

His thigh still pressing between her legs, Junpei held himself up with one arm and reached the other up Akane’s dress, searching the soft curves of her bare skin. Running his fingers up her thigh, he thumbed the elastic of her underwear, earning a twist of her hips and a sigh of his name. Her breath wavered as he continued his way up her side.

Feeling her react to his touch set off an aching heat inside him. He pressed himself against her, rocking his hips and feeling his pants tighten as he concentrated on her, real and solid and possibly, inexplicably, his. Junpei took her breast in his palm and trailed kisses along her jaw. She writhed under him, a series of soft moans encouraging his exploration.

Every move he made further drew out an unguarded side of Akane he’d never seen before. She had fully shed her usual thoughtful demeanor, and he was desperate to deserve the trust she was giving him.

Bringing his hand back out from under her dress, he held her neckline and bra aside and took her in his mouth. She gasped and arched her back as he teased her with a gentle bite and his tongue, grinding against him. He could spend an entire day testing her responses to all the ways he could touch her. He could spend the rest of his life memorizing them.

Wandering up her inner thigh, he moved his hand between her legs and felt her underwear soaked through. His head spun with how badly he wanted her. Akane’s breath hitched as he pulled her dress up and slipped his hand under the waistband, feeling her for the first time.

Christ—

Okay, this was real. He still couldn’t believe it but he sure as hell would accept it.

She placed her hand over his and her brow furrowed in concentration as she used it to stroke firm circles around her clit. He’d seen her make that face a hundred times, calculating odds and piecing clues together, but it would never look the same again. She settled into the rhythm she needed, and as soon as he caught on she left the job to his eager hands.

The thrum of his heart overtook his body as Akane reached her hands down to unbutton his pants. She glanced at him with a sly smile before turning her eyes back to his exposed boxer briefs. Stroking his length through the fabric, she coaxed him to full hardness. His mind short circuited—so much for any misconceptions he’d had about being in control of the situation. She kissed him with an amused hum, sliding her hand into his waistband and wrapping her fingers around his cock. He groaned, thrusting against her and kissing her deeper.

Fuck how embarrassing he’d found vulnerability an hour ago—he wanted to give her all of himself because he wanted her to accept all of him.

He sank back into that deep pool, not just opening his heart to the possibility of her, but committing to the reality of her. There was no one like her in the world. There would never be anyone like her, and somehow, they belonged together. An incomprehensible truth of the universe.

With his hands on her and hers on him, he was flooded with the unexpected thrill of reciprocation. They tried their best for each other, but soon they were each so lost in their own pleasure that they were a tangle of limbs and sloppy, desperate movements. She leaned into every touch and gave back to him in return, their breaths and moans intermingling. The pressure between them was building to a breaking point.

“Jumpy,” she cried, her legs tensing as she reached climax. She shuddered against his touch, one of her hands reflexively returning to his. She pushed his fingers inside her, and the sensation of her heat throbbing around him sent him over the edge. His hips bucked into her grip, spilling over, pulse by pulse onto her thigh.

He dropped to her side, slipping into a haze of calm and relief. He wiped the sweat dripping down her temple with his thumb and leaned in to kiss her. She held onto him so he couldn’t pull back.

She fell back onto the bed, catching her breath, and Junpei grabbed a tissue from the nightstand to wipe her off, turning back to collapse with her.

“So this is it now—we’re actually doing this?” he asked, holding up her left hand.

“Jumpy, yes,” she said, her eyes soft and sincere. “But we have a lot of work to do first.”

“Right this minute?” He ran his hand up her side and pulled her snug against him.

“Well…” she blushed and nestled into him, running a finger along the inside of his waistband.

Fine, so it had all been leading to this. Every agonizing day without her and every tiny decision at Dcom had brought him down the path to this moment. There was no way he could regret any of it.