scaling | ( for fabrications )

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Akira hadn't thought seeing him in person would affect him as much as it does. After all, he's had two months to mentally prepare himself for this moment.

And yet, the sight of Goro Akechi, alive and in the flesh, perfectly put-together and looking like he was made to sit under the studio lighting, makes him feel... some kind of way. Unsettled, for sure, knowing what he knows now. Then again, there's a part of him that hasn't stopped feeling unsettled since he first (well, perhaps first isn't accurate) jolted awake to find himself on the train to Yongen-Jaya again. In one piece. Not bleeding out on the ground with a megalomaniacal pseudo-god bearing down on him. And, most importantly, as the only one with any recollection of all they'd been through.

It doesn't take Akira long to come to the most logical conclusion: That somewhere along the line, he screwed up. Somehow, it hadn't been enough, and now he has an opportunity to fix it—which would be a lot easier if he were to have some notion of what, specifically, he needs to fix, or even if this is a one-time deal.

At first, he tries copying his previous motions as closely as possible. People always talk about their regrets like they would change them in a heartbeat, given the chance, but the thought of altering the timeline as he knows it is overwhelming. The more Akira steps away from his previous path, the less accurate his existing knowledge may become, the bigger the chance that he may miss something important from the first time around.

That reasoning goes out the window pretty quickly. Akira finds that he can't watch Shiho Suzui jump off that building again, can't go through hearing that agony in Ann's voice a second time when he can so easily prevent it. So he stops her. It's what the Phantom Thieves would do. And things change... but not in a way that affects the flow of events in any profound way. Ann still stumbles after them into the Metaverse and finds the conviction to awaken her persona, somehow. He's not sure how it works out, but it does. What Akira does know is that fate is what you make of it. If he believes in his teammates, they'll end up where they need to be.

But for all of that, he still wavers as they're leaving the recording area. Up until now, the decisions to change things have been easy. Akechi, on the other hand... where to start? Is it even salvageable? Akira's not certain, but when he thinks of their last meeting in Shido's palace, Akechi's remark about the possibility of them meeting a few years earlier, the sounds of gunshots echoing from the other side of the bulkhead—he can't not try. It's not years, but maybe this handful of months will be enough.

Akira lets Ann go ahead with a nod, sliding his hands into his pockets as he tries to maintain his usual casual demeanor. Any moment now...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I know. I don't think you're capable of not trying," he adds, because really, Akira isn't sure he's seen Akechi half-ass anything in the time he's known him.

Even video games, apparently, because while it sort of sounds like a joke, it also sort of doesn't. It's still a funny mental image, Akechi researching and practicing games with the same level of dedication he gives everything else.

"You should. It's actually good stress relief." Although… he recalls the interior of Akechi's apartment. "Well, you'd need a TV. But you're always welcome to practice on mine," Akira offers, and it's definitely just a coincidence that it would be another reason to spend time in each other's company. Most certainly.

That's certainly true. Akechi can't even make himself half-ass classes he doesn't care about and can easily pass, so not putting his all into a game with his friend (particularly when Akira is still the only one he thinks of that way) is out of the question.

Declining opportunity to practice at Akira's is also out of the question, and Akechi perks up when the offer is made.

"My funds are going to be a bit tight for a while." He still has more than enough to survive and a decent chunk saved up, but his 'fun' budget was more or less wiped out by his replacement phone purchase. "Though I might not have time until after my entrance exams are over."

The initial comment strikes him, though only because Akira isn't quite sure of the reasoning behind it. He wonders to himself if Shido paid Akechi for the work that he did. While it's not too far-fetched of an idea, he knows it would never be a motivating factor.

But Akechi keeps speaking, so he tucks the thought away for later.

"Ah, those are right around the corner…" Sitting a grueling entrance exam seems comparatively small when the task of saving Japan is looming before them, but it's still Akechi's future at stake. Of course he'd need to study. "It can be something to look forward to after."

"A reward for a job well done." Because even though Akechi is still going to work hard, he's also pretty confident he'll place just fine - though he'd be likely to say the same thing even if he wasn't.

But it takes his thoughts in a different direction. Akechi isn't sure what Akira's plans are for once they're done. Unlike most of the Phantom Thieves, he's in a pretty unique situation. Akechi has been assuming he'll stick around, and Akira has said a few things that make that seem likely, but he suddenly realizes that he doesn't know if that's actually the case.

A few months ago, that would be something to file away for future investigation. Now it feels more natural to just ask.

"You're planning to finish your third year at Shujin, then?"

"I want to," he answers, no hesitation behind it. Akira wants nothing more than to remain here, to stay with Morgana and Sojiro and Futaba, with all of his friends, with Akechi. But at the same time…

He shifts, the earnestness in his expression tuned down into something more solemn. "I guess it depends on what happens. My parents might tell me to go home." The word feels unfitting on his tongue. Home is a concept he's come to associate with Leblanc. "Even if my name isn't cleared, my probation will be over in a few months."

And he's still a bit too young to make the decision to stay here for himself. Would he even want to put Sojiro in the awkward position of continuing to house him then? A step further than that—would he really want to do that when everything here has taught him that he shouldn't take having normal parents who care about his well-being for granted?

When Akechi stops to think about it, that's the only answer that makes sense. Akira is only here because of the false accusation made against him, so if his parents think there's no reason for him to stay then there's nothing stopping them from demanding he return. Still...

"That's a tough position to be in." Akechi won't say it out loud, but he has plenty of experience with having no say over where he ends up living and which schools he ends up attending. It's just not something he expected to have in common with Akira. "Leblanc will be pretty lonely if you have to go back."

Akira hums his agreement. It would look silly from an outsider's perspective, being more bothered by the uncertainty surrounding where he'll live next year than that concerning Yaldabaoth. He lets that thought adjust his perspective slightly, finding a thread of humor to lighten the mood.

"What excuses will you use to keep visiting if I'm gone?" he asks with a half-smile. Privately, Akira is happy with the implication that even if he goes back to his hometown, Akechi will still feel inclined to go to Leblanc.

"The coffee." Akechi's response is immediate, unhesitating, and solemn, though there's no keeping a faint smile off his face. "Though I'll miss the cups you make, too."

There's a brief pause before Akechi speaks again, something short enough that he could just be taking a breath. A fierce debate takes place in that brief time frame, however. He wonders if it's okay to say what he wants to say, if it won't be too forward or strange, if it won't reveal too much about how he feels and the things Akira has done to his priorities. It's a normal struggle between his typical emotional caution and the newfound sense of freedom that comes with Akira's presence. The latter is winning the fight more and more often lately, and that's the case here.

"But if I miss it too much, I could always just pay you a personal visit."

"A personal visit just for coffee?" It's mischievous, teasing, but he understands what Akechi is really getting at—that he'd miss Akira and talking like this. Well, hopefully. It could just be wishful thinking on Akira's part, his brain just filling in the gaps with what he wants to hear, but he believes it isn't.

When he speaks again, fondness has seeped into his tone. "I'd like it if you did." It's all too easy to admit that. Akechi visiting him in his hometown isn't something he even allowed himself to consider, but if he's the one suggesting it… "I can show you around. It's quieter than Tokyo, but there's still some cool stuff."

"And company," Akechi allows, keeping his tone casual and not at all reflective of the fact that admitting to such a thing makes a significant part of him want to stand up, leave the manga cafe, and never look back.

But Akira seems to like the idea, which lets Akechi keep his thoughts from running in paranoid directions without him. He's already aware that their must be something to do in Akira's hometown - why else would Shido have ever been there? - but he decides to keep that thought to himself.

"I'm looking forward to it." It's not already decided that Akira is going to go back, but if he stays in Tokyo maybe they'll just visit instead. "It'll be interesting to see what sort of place you grew up in."

"Me too," Akira agrees, thoughts light with possibilities, a feeling that carries on into the rest of the night.

He ends up not reading much manga, nor does he get a lot of studying done, but Akira feels contented and stabilized going into Shido's Palace the following day. It plays out as expected, with Shido's Shadow falling after a drawn-out battle, and this time, it doesn't come as a surprise when it disappears before their eyes and the Palace begins to collapse. They've discussed this ahead of time, planned out a quick escape, and before long they're in front of the Diet building again, no scrapes with death along the way.

They have the chance to recuperate afterwards. The only timer they're running on right now is the one behind the decision to throw out Shido's case for good, and Akira knows from experience that gives them at least a few days to prepare for their delve into Mementos.

And during that, he gives Akechi space. The itch to reach out is there, of course, and Akira does make it obvious that his (Leblanc's, really) door is open if Akechi needs him, but otherwise… He thinks he gets it.

Finally, after the days seem to crawl by under the weight of his anticipation, Christmas Eve comes. And this? This is one of the freshest days in his memory. He's played it over time and time again, trying to figure out what they could have done differently. Akira never did come up with a definitive answer, but perhaps he never needed one. They retrace almost the same path, down through Mementos, in the Velvet Room (there, Akira gives Akechi a knowing smile amid the confused looks of the rest of the Phantom Thieves), through the warped streets of Shibuya, right up until they're bruised and beaten on top of Yaldabaoth's dais. Except this time, with ethereal cheers ringing in his ears, he finds the strength to stand up again.

It stands to reason that everything from this point on is unexpected. Akira's spent so long with an idea of what's to come that not having a point of reference is strange. But he thinks that Arsene's transformation and the brief but overwhelming surge of power that comes from Satanael would be surprising either way. There's something else bubbling beneath the surface—anger, he realizes—as he pulls the trigger.

And… just like that, it's done. The world returns to normal before their very eyes, and with all of the shimmering particles of cognition, Morgana goes too. He's a product of the Metaverse, after all, and Akira knows that it makes sense, but his brain doesn't quite want to accept the fact, leaving him quiet and slightly shell-shocked as they take in the aftermath.

When everyone else disperses for the day, he stays. For once, going back to Leblanc doesn't feel right. Not when he knows his bedroom will be empty, devoid of his constant companion. Instead, Akira wanders a bit, aimless, through sunset and into the evening. Seeing the city returned to normal is a small comfort.

He's not expecting to run into anyone he knows, and especially not Sae Niijima. If Akira didn't know any better, he'd say she's sought him out. It certainly seems so, with the proposal she lays out: turn himself over to the police in order to testify against Shido. He's not completely on board with the reasoning until a certain name comes up—Akechi, although never named in Shido's confession, would be the true prime candidate to testify against him and link the mental shutdowns to the Metaverse. Akira puts his foot down immediately. They'll go easy on him if he plays the role of the criminal, admits to leading the Phantom Thieves and breaking the bounds of his probation. If Akechi were to confess to the things he's done under Shido's orders…

Somehow, the exchange is more exhausting than the battle with Yaldabaoth. Sae seems to sense it, expression uncharacteristically gentle as he tells him to rest for the night, that they'll take care of business in the morning.

But when she sets off, Akira's feet don't take him home. They trace out a path he's taken once before: the one to Akechi's apartment. It doesn't even sink in that he might not be home, much less the implications of desperately wanting to see Akechi on what he now knows to be his last night of freedom for who-knows-how-long, until he's staring at the door. Although the key is still in his bag, he opts to knock, taking a steadying breath before he does so.

Akechi doesn't regret it in the slightest, but the night he spends with Akira in the manga cafe ends up being the last truly relaxing evening he has for a long time. The battle against Shido is tense. The escape from his Palace is tense. Waiting for his confession is tense. Hearing his confession is...

That's harder to pin down, actually. Watching Shido break down and humiliate himself on national TV isn't at all what Akechi thinks it'll be like. There's no satisfaction in it, no surge of triumph. All he feels is a nauseating wave of contemptuous disgust, and for once he has no idea where to direct that emotion. He attends the Phantom Thieves' celebration (largely on Ann and Ryuji's insistence) and even enjoys himself while he's there, but he's still quiet and preoccupied for most of the night. He doesn't take Akira up on his unspoken offer to talk.

The rest of their journey is appropriately surreal. Even if warned ahead of time, running into Shido's Shadow comes as a nasty shock; Akechi ends up ignoring it as much as he can, which is a problem when it's the one with all the information. Moving on is more of a distraction than a relief; the situation just gets steadily more confusing and stressful from there on out, though finally getting a look at the Velvet Room is nice. Granted, he meets Akira's smile with a look of amused disbelief because even though he remembers Akira describing it as a prison, seeing it in person makes him realize how on the nose the metaphor is.

They can't linger forever - or even for very long - before they need to move on. Once they do, Akechi thinks he can understand why they didn't make it the first time around. Since joining the Phantom Thieves he's never once thought of a battle as hopeless, but the thought still claws its way into the back of his mind before he can shake it off. Even then, it's easy to believe in Akira, to push himself back to his feet with the rest of the Phantom Thieves and add his voice to theirs. Now, more than ever before, he actually feels like he's meant to be here.

And just like that, it's over. In a perfect world that would be the end of it, but Morgana vanishing along with the (rest of) the Metaverse is just one final parting kick from fate. Even Akechi is upset by his disappearance, which means he can only imagine how Akira feels. Akechi wants to extend the same offer that Akira had given him, letting him know that he's welcome if he needs somewhere else to be. But he doesn't know how, and in the end he departs just like everyone else, quiet and pensive.

Fortunately for Akira, Akechi does go home, though when he opens his door and steps inside it strikes him, for the very first time, that it doesn't really feel like much of a 'home'. That's a disquieting enough feeling that he almost turns around and leaves again, but fatigue and discontent keep him there. It's not like he has anywhere else to go, and it's not like he has anything else to do.

... Well, there is one thing he could do, but right now he's not sure he's up for the task of sorting out all the information he could use to testify against Shido. So he preoccupies himself with trying to read a certain thriller manga he'd picked up in one of his brief moments of free time the past week. Granted, his head is so full of other thoughts that he keeps having to go back and reread to try to pick up on things he's missed. He hasn't quite made it through the first volume when there's a knock at his door. The sound comes as a relief, even though on some level Akechi is absolutely certain that whoever's on the other side is bad news for him.

'Surprised' doesn't really cover how he feels when he sees who it actually is.

"Akira?" His presence alone is weird enough that Akechi doesn't even think to point out that Akira has a key and doesn't need to knock. He opens his mouth to say something else, but he closes it with a worried frown a moment later. Rather than trying to get immediate answers, he simply steps back and pulls the door open wider. If Akira wants to talk to him, or even just sit in silence with him, Akechi won't say no.

The sight of Akechi has somehow come to often serve as a balm for his troubled thoughts, but not this time. Akira's emotions are rubbed raw by the long, wind series of events that played out today, and being in Akechi's company for what will be the last time in a while suddenly feels more like a cut than anything.

As much as he tries to temper his expression into the usual poker face, some of it slips through. The exhaustion, the sadness, the uncertainty—none of the emotions one would expect the 'world's savior,' as Sae called him, to be experiencing on the evening of his triumph. It's a little too much to hide right now, peeking through in the way he hesitates and wets his lips before he accepts the silent offer to step inside.

"Sorry, I should have let you know I was coming," is what he settles on, slipping out of his shoes. Now that Akira's no longer being driven by a single-minded need to arrive here, he thinks he should've grabbed food or something on his way over, anything to diffuse the atmosphere and make this visit seem a little more natural. Too late now.

Idly, he notes that the lack of immediate questioning shows just another way Akechi has grown a bit in how he deals with people. Regardless, Akechi is no doubt wondering why he's here. Akira decides to go with about as honest of an explanation as he can, glancing back as Akechi shuts the door. "I just wanted to see you."

'Empathetic' is, rightfully, the last word many people would use to describe Akechi. He's perceptive, though, so even if he doesn't really 'get' the emotions that Akira is unable to mask he still understands what they are, where they're coming from, and how heavy they must feel if Akira either can't or won't keep them in check.

"It's alright." Akechi's never had an unexpected guest before and he's surprised to realize how little he hates it. He's just not sure if it's because it's Akira, or because it's obvious something serious.

Akira's actual reasoning might not strike most people as serious, of course, but it startles Akechi and makes his heart race faster more than anything else he's heard today. There's something a little alarming about that, but there's no stopping the fact that hearing it mostly makes Akechi feel pleasantly warm. Or hiding it, for that matter; he's not someone that blushes easily, but his cheeks are tinted faintly pink all the same. He suddenly realizes he has no idea how to respond to that. The inherently natural feel to all of his conversations with Akira is suddenly gone, leaving him to fumble for an answer.

"You can stay as long as you need," is what he finally settles on. That's... probably the right thing to say - or at least an okay thing to say? He's suddenly not sure, which is a strange sensation.

Akira lets his gaze linger on Akechi for a moment longer, and... Is the lighting playing tricks on his eyes, or did he just turn a little red? If he were in a better state of mind, Akira would comb over the possible implications of such a thing.

Right now, however, he just commits it to memory because his brain is too busy supplying forever as a viable response to Akechi's offer. He's been numb to the inevitability of his imprisonment since accepting Sae's offer, like it's a concept he can't quite comprehend in real terms. Suddenly, staring at Akechi with faint color on his cheeks and a feeling of potential in his own chest, it's easy to quantify—it means being away from this, from Akechi, from his friends, from Leblanc and Shujin—and Akira is struck by how viciously he doesn't want to go.

But he has to. For them. To finally close the book on Shido's legacy of misery.

"Thanks," he breathes out. Akira is familiar enough with Akechi's apartment after his last visit that he doesn't bother hanging around and waiting to be shown further inside, heading over to the couch to take a seat.

Akira is acting strangely enough to set off alarm bells - but while Akechi would normally plunge into immediate suspicion, right now he can only think that it makes perfect sense. Even Akechi feels the sting of Morgana's loss, so he can only imagine that it's agonizing for Akira. Maybe that's why he's here, where Morgana would never be in the first place.

But as Akira proceeds into his apartment, Akechi is struck by how ill-equipped he is to handle something like this. It's stupid to not know what to do right now, but he's not even sure if Akira would prefer comfort, a distraction, or simply to sit in silence.

Well, maybe he can at least start with the basics. He follows after Akira, pausing long enough to grab a bottle of water for each of them before he proceeds into the living room. He offers one out to Akira before taking a seat next to him.

"If you need to stay the night, that's fine, too." Tone a little lighter, though not quite joking, he adds: "I still have your toothbrush from last time."

It's out of habit that he sets his bag on the ground carefully, and it takes Akira doing so to remember that there's no longer any need to. Quietly, he allows himself to sink into the couch cushions, accepting the water bottle with a grateful nod.

"Thanks," he says again, and now he has it in him to give a little smile. Akechi is trying, he can tell. It may pile on yet another reason for him to want to stay, the sentiment also warms Akira from the inside. "… I might take you up on that."

It's probably getting to be a bit too late to spend time with Futaba and Sojiro even if he did go back to Leblanc. He would rather let them ride out the high of victory for the rest of the day, anyway. There will be time to explain in the morning, before Sae shows up to take him to the police department.

But right now, he doesn't want to think about that. Akira twists the cap off the bottle. "Sounds like you were hoping I'd come back if you kept it," he points out, feeling a bit emboldened as he tries to mirror Akechi's light tone.

It isn't like Akira seeing right through him and jumping straight to the point has never happened before, but being called out so bluntly catches Akechi off guard. He pauses in the middle of opening his own water bottle, uncertain of what to say. After a moment he sighs, though it's no an unhappy sound.

"I thought it might not be a one-time thing." He'd been hoping, as a matter of fact, but that's a hope he hasn't allowed himself to consciously acknowledge until this moment. He's not ready to say it out loud, though he can admit to one thing. "My apartment might not be as comfortable as you room, but having company was nice." Even given the unpleasant circumstances surrounding Akira's original visit.

"It's comfortable," Akira says, quick to speak that thought. The interior of Akechi's apartment may seem a bit sterile compared to his own bedroom, but he's never felt a lack of comfort from it. Maybe because Akechi draws out that sense of warmth and relaxation? It could have nothing to do with the apartment at all, but it doesn't change the way Akira feels when he's here.

He casts his eyes around the walls as he sips from the bottle. "It could use some decorations, but... that's something we can fix." The implication here is clear: to fill Akechi's apartment with the same sort of mish-mash of random items that brings color to Akira's room.

The assurance that his room is comfortable get a look of mild skepticism from Akechi. It's not like he thinks Akira is lying to him, but he doesn't quite see how he can think that. Akechi might not have many things to compare it to, but Akira's room seems much more personalized and lived-in. Akechi is pretty sure there's nothing that makes his apartment stand out compared typical furnished student housing.

"Like star-shaped stickers?" Akechi doesn't really think of himself as having a 'favorite' decoration in Akira's room, but the stars have always stuck out to him. Still, the 'we' in that sentence isn't lost on him. He's just not sure who all is included in the 'we'. "Any suggestions?"

"Glow-in-the-dark star-shaped stickers," Akira corrects. He simply cannot allow Akechi to leave off the best part. "You could put them on the ceiling over your bed."

This is easier, letting himself drift off into this hypothetical future where everything is already resolved and Akechi will let him spruce up his apartment. Not to say it'll never happen, but…

Thinking about how far off it might be makes an itch crawl under Akira's skin again, so he redirects his mental efforts to offering the requested suggestions.

"Definitely some souvenirs from places you like to visit." His first thought is Leblanc, but, well, they don't exactly offer branded merchandise. "Maybe some posters," he adds thoughtfully, though—perhaps not of an idol like his. Akira can't really see that being something Akechi would go for. "I can get you a chocolate fountain, too, if you're interested." And that one comes with such a flat expression that it's impossible to tell whether it's serious or not.

"Of course. My mistake." He sounds more amused than apologetic, however.

The possible suggestions are all considered, and thought Akechi doesn't say anything out loud he's silently shooting them down one after another. Leblanc and his rock climbing gym are the only places he'd say he likes to visit, neither of which have souvenirs that are better suited to sitting on the shelf than being used. Posters aren't something he sees himself wanting, either. The chocolate fountain--

Wait, is that a serious offer? Akechi slides Akira an almost wary look and finds himself completely unable to gauge how sincere of a proposal that is.

"I don't think I need such direct access to that much chocolate." He'd be absolutely sick of it after just one day. "But souvenirs would be nice. You should tell Sojiro-san to start selling them."

"Too bad. It's a good conversation starter," he says, as if referring to a book on a coffee table—and also as if speaking of someplace other than Akechi's apartment, where he gets the feeling there aren't exactly many visitors with whom to start conversations. Akira quietly hopes that will change at some point.

With the suggestion, he consideration turns more sincere. "He'd probably say it would be a pain in the ass," Akira guesses honestly, the words a bit fond. Well, he can't exactly see the regulars wanting to buy souvenirs. Not that they have enough regulars to make that a sustainable idea anyway. "I'd grab you a coffee cup, but he would definitely notice one missing." And Akira's thievery days are supposed to be behind him, anyway.

Conversations with who? Akechi wonders, but he doesn't say that out loud. Even if he's sure Akira is far from okay, his mood is improving and Akechi doesn't want to be the one to ruin that. The counterpoint about getting Leblanc souvenirs is solid ones, and Akira's suggestion gets a shake of the head from Akechi.

"I wouldn't want to add to your criminal record." Even over something as petty as a coffee cup. "But I'm sure we'll find other places to visit. I can just get something from one of those." His word choices - 'we', 'places', 'one of' - are all very deliberate. He wants to experience more of the city from here on out, and he wants to do it in Akira's company.

The syntax of that statement is not lost on Akira, and, that easy, the pang of sorrow in his chest returns. Akechi isn't even asking to spend more time together—he's assuming, correctly so, that that's what Akira wants, and that feels... significant, somehow.

And Akira can't promise him any of it.

"I'll buy you something next time," he says anyway, the words gummy in his mouth as he tries to smile through them. The success is somewhat questionable. "Something you can put on display here."

After all of the time he spent withholding things from Akechi before? This is wrong. Akira's seen what it does to him, what it will no doubt do to him again when he finds out tomorrow. Regardless, being honest about this isn't an option. Akechi has put himself in danger before to protect him; there's no way he won't at least try to fight the decision to turn himself in. That, he can't allow, not when this is for Akechi's sake as much as it is for everyone else's.

( for fabrications )

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