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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...

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Akechi reflects with some amusement that Akira has apparently chosen the option that lets him stay in bed as long as possible. Akechi hardly minds, though. He didn't even bother to set an alarm for the morning and, in fact, had double checked to make sure his regular alarm was switched off.

With the temperature apparently at an agreeable setting, Akechi leans over to hit the final light switch, then slides under the covers next to Akira. His bed isn't really made for two people, but he finds it more cozy than cramped and manages to settle in without jostling or kicking his bedmate. For some reason he doesn't expect to feel Akira's hand at his waist but he's quick to return the gesture despite that; his fingers rub back and forth just once, his mind temporarily caught on the oddity of the familiar texture of his own pajamas being worn my someone else. Then Akira speaks and the thought is immediately forgotten.

"Thank you for deciding to stay." His tone is puzzled but warm, like he's been caught off guard by something entirely wanted. "I wasn't thinking about it until you showed up, but it would have been lonely otherwise." He's had enough of feeling alone. Quite frankly, suddenly he's flat out sick of it.

Brief though it is, that gentle rub sets his tumultuous heart at ease. The path ahead of him may be dark and uncertain, but these moments will be like a candle he'll carry through it.

"It would've been the same for me." Not just because Morgana is gone, either. There's nothing he wants less right now than to be alone with his thoughts, and maybe that's part of what drove him here in the first place. Even if he can't tell Akechi exactly what's on his mind, Akira knew he would do his best to understand his current state.

Wrapped up in Akechi's warmth and scent lends a new weight to his eyelids. The events of the day suddenly begin to set in physically all at once, pressing exhaustion into his bones. With a slow blink, he speaks up once more, "Good night, Goro."

"Good night, Akira."

With those words spoken it's only a matter of moments before Akechi has drifted off, though 'drifted' does a disservice to how quickly sleep overtakes him. He's out before he realizes it and, aside from when he presses a little closer to Akira not long after his heater automatically clicks off and the temperature drops, remains motionless until it's time to wake up.

Speaking of which, though he may not have set an alarm Akechi is still an early riser by nature. Whether it's own his own or because Akira stirs first, he wakes up just after eight, a whole hour later than usual, though the relaxation of sleeping in is somewhat ruined by the jolt of surprise when he realizes he's not alone. Even that passes once he remembers why, though, and he relaxes again without even needing to force it.

Whether Akira is awake or not, Akechi intends to leave his hand draped over his waist for as long as possible. His other hand is freed from underneath his pillow and finds its way to Akira's hair, however, and he starts to absentmindedly brush his fingers through the unruly waves. It would probably be way too self-indulgent to just lay here and pet Akira's hair indefinitely, but aside from murmuring a sleepy Good morning. if Akira's awake, Akechi doesn't do anything but continue.

True to his character, Akira isn't the first to stir. In any other situation, the things on his mind might stir up nightmares that wake him in the early morning. Here in Akechi's presence, though, they're washed into the farthest shadows, too distant to bother him. And so, he rests soundly...

Right up until that hand begins to pull through his hair. The unfamiliar but soothing sensation draws him closer to consciousness, a gradual process that starts with a hum in the back of his throat, then a little smack of his lips, until finally his eyes are beginning to flutter open. There's a similar, fleeting sense of confusion when it registers that he's in Akechi's bed, but it soon melts into a drowsy half-smile. Akira tilts his head into the touch.

"Good morning," he says softly. What time is it? It feels early, but judging by the sunlight that faintly bathes the room, it can't be too egregious an hour.

Akira being slower to wake doesn't come as a surprise at all. He hadn't stirred until Akechi's phone rang last time, either. So Akechi is patient while Akira goes through the process of pulling himself back to the waking world. When he finally speaks, a slightly less drowsy version of that half smile of his is reflected on Akechi's expression.

"Good morning." Akechi's fingers finally fall still, though he leaves them resting on Akira's head. After a beat, he adds, "Probably. I haven't had a chance to check yet." And it seems like he's not in a rush to do so. Even when he finally withdraws his hands from Akira's hair and waist and rolls into his back, it's only so he stretch out without even bothering to kick the covers off. "... Oh, and merry Christmas." If it sounds like an afterthought, that's because it is. Akechi hadn't even done the barest amount of preparations, but since Akira's here it feels like a waste to not say.

Akechi really thinks he can just retract his touch that easily? In his best and most unintentional impression of a cat, Akira follows, rolling onto his own back and nestling his side right up against Akechi's in the process. There, warm again.

He doesn't have a chance to look smug about it, though. His eyes widen slightly at the added greeting. "Merry Christmas," he returns, shaking most of the grogginess from his voice. That's right. It's Christmas, and he's about to go turn himself into the police. Talk about the season of giving. At least he managed to take Akechi on a Christmas Eve date.

Well, that's not all. Akira raises his hand to rub some of the sleep from his eyes. "Are you ready for Christmas omurice?"

Ah, he should have known better than to try to escape. Akechi lowers his arm to settle it around Akira once more, but otherwise remains still while he gets comfortable. The whole process feels natural enough to come full circle to feeling strange again. He likes it.

"I've been ready since you first mentioned it." Not that he seems to be in any rush to get out of bed. In fact, he stays right where he is. Sounding a little too pleased with himself, he adds: "I promise to not try to trap you on your way out."

He huffs out a soft, short laugh. "Like you could, anyway." Despite the joke, Akira thinks he really won't mind being physically trapped here. Trapped in bed with Akechi, perfectly warm and comfortable to rest against, looking so inviting with his sleep-mussed hair and lips stretched in a smile? Oh no, how dreadful.

But alas, he has to move. After allowing himself a prolonged moment to carve this feeling into his heart, Akira shoves himself up onto an elbow and makes his move to crawl over Akechi, swinging his leg over first.

Akechi literally just promised to not try to trap Akira, but as Akira swings a leg over him and the understated intimacy of the movement suddenly sinks. Akechi doesn't let himself second-guess his impulse (or rather, he ignores the persistent, over-cautious voice in his head that second guesses every slight vulnerability he exposes) and reaches up to grab hold of Akira's shoulder and drag him to a stop with one hand. He slides his other hand to the back of his neck and, with gently insistent pressure, aim to pull him down for a quick, chaste kiss.

There. Now Akira can go make breakfast.

Even the grasp of Akechi's hands can't prepare him for the soft press of his lips. His heart stutters in his chest, hanging a beat before it picks up even quicker than before, rabbiting in his chest. That single brief kiss is all it takes to cast away his drowsiness. Talk about a wake-up call.

"Looks like I'm wrong," Akira murmurs, far too pleased to admit that. Akechi doesn't even have to physically hold him down to keep him here; instead, Akira ends up tied up in impulse, an urge that has him settling his weight down onto Akechi's thighs and his arms against the sheets. "You trapped me."

Breakfast can wait a few minutes. Drawing Akechi into a slow kiss can't.

"Who knew capturing the leader of the Phantom Thieves could be so easy?" As if everything they went through leading up to this point could be called 'easy' - and as if he's the one that has Akira trapped, rather than the other way around. Having someone sitting on him like this is a wholly unfamiliar sensation, but by no means an unpleasant one.

But any other jokes and musings are forgotten when Akira presses close again. Akechi relaxes into the next kiss eagerly and without hesitation, his eyes slipping closed and his hand sliding into Akira's hair once again. It seems that absentmindedly playing with the soft wavy strands has managed to become a habit in less than a day.

A witty response begins to formulate out of pure habit, waiting on his tongue, right up until Akechi's hand sinks into his hair. His thoughts scatter, fragmented by the almost ticklish brushes against his scalp and the gentle, coincidental tugs at the strands. A soft hum vibrates in Akira's throat, and he bears down into the kiss.

He could get lost in this. The solid muscle beneath him, the plush give of Akechi's lip as he gives a parting swipe of his tongue... Food is such a distant thought. He needs that? No, all he needs is right in front of him. The bit of morning light that gets into the room catches on Akechi's hair and illuminates it faintly, a halo against the sheets. He looks so ethereal that Akira has to shift his arm to brush at it, just to remind himself that this is real.

"How can bedhead be so pretty?" It slips out without premeditation, a rare instance. Akira's words are usually heavily curated, his thoughts locked up tight behind an ever-shifting mask. Even now, he wears some semblance of one as he holds back the truth, but Akechi still manages to inflict these little cracks on his composure.

If Akira thinks he could get lost in this, then Akechi already is. His usual flair for analytical thoughts and observations has completely left him. All he can think about is the feel of Akira's lips and tongue against his, the soft texture of his hair, the comfortable weight pressing him down against the sheets. He pulls his free hand around Akira's shoulders and only relaxes his grip once Akira puts some space between them.

Sincerity is a difficult thing for Akechi, both in expressing it and in having it expressed towards him. His time spent with Akira has helped him improve significantly, but he's starting from zero and even major strides still only cover so much distance.

Even so, he is improving. When Akira pays him that off the cuff compliment Akechi doesn't immediately deflect with a joke. He just closes his eyes again, lips curving in an embarrassed but almost giddy smile.

"Could it be that you're biased?" It's not meant to be self-depreciating, and his tone lacks the usual sarcastic or gloomy note that usually comes with such comments. He opens his eyes again, and though he tilts his head slightly towards Akira's touch his gaze now focused slightly up. "Not that I have room to talk. I'd say yours is cuter than ever."

This really is self-indulgent, isn't it? Akechi wishes he could do this all day.

To compare Akechi to an angel would be ironic, really, considering all the demons he knows to be weighing the other boy down, but here Akira is, mentally likening that sweet little smile to something heavensent. He doesn't voice the extent of his thoughts, but he at least doesn't try to hide his staring.

"That's my completely objective opinion." And while it's a joke, he would suspect that most people would agree with him: Akechi's freshly awoken look is unfairly pretty. Akira, on the other hand, knows that his hair is sticking up in twice as many directions as usual, and there's definitely still sleep clinging to the corners of his eyes. That makes the compliment Akechi pays him all and the sincerity behind it the more meaningful. "You think? Then I'll just leave it like this."

He could, actually. It's not like he cares how the police see him at this point. His own opinion of them is probably irreversibly soured, and he knows that they're going to wring whatever terrible assumptions they can out of his appearance no matter how nicely he presents himself.

If Akira saw the amount of time, effort, and money Akechi put into his hair- and skincare routines, his relatively put together appearance first thing in the morning would probably make more sense.

Akira's comment (Akechi genuinely can't tell if it's a joke, a threat, or a promise) about leaving his hair as it is gets a soft laugh from Akechi, who finally lets his hand fall away from Akira's hair and settle against his arm again. Akira's staring goes unnoticed solely because Akechi is doing the exact same thing in return.

"I certainly wouldn't complain about that, but are you sure it won't get in the way?" Akira's hair is already constantly somewhat in his face, and it seems worse than usual now, though at least he doesn't actually need his glasses.

"If I trip, you'll just have to catch me." How he manages to deliver that line as smoothly as he does while the eye contact sends his heart racing again is a mystery even to Akira himself. This really was like stepping right into a pit of quicksand; the warmth threatens to tug him right back down towards the mattress.

No. No sinking, no disappearing under the covers all day. There's a little twitch of his fingers near Akechi's hair as he reminds himself of what he has to do, a quick inhale as he collects himself, and then—

"I'm getting hungry." As Akira speaks, he slowly detaches himself and slides the rest of the way off the bed, finally getting to his feet. The churning in his stomach is probably due in part to hunger, but other factors are definitely at play. "Mind if I take up the bathroom first?"

Akira's ability to maintain his composure no matter the situation never ceases to amaze. Akechi's not bad at it himself, but he feels like Akira is both more consistent and more natural about it. He's a little envious, and for once that envy isn't accompanied by simmering contempt.

The faint twitch of his fingers and the abrupt shift back to the subject of breakfast takes Akechi off guard, but not to the extent that it interrupts his good mood or prompts him to do more than blink. He's somewhat hungry himself (or at least, he will be by the time breakfast is done) and he's well aware of the growing risk that they'll just stay in bed all day if they don't get up soon.

"Go ahead." Akechi finally pushes himself upright, absentmindedly lifting a hand to pet his hair back into place. He has no intention of leaving it like that all day, but a few more minutes won't bother him. For now he'll busy himself with turning on the heater again (though not as high), pulling open the balcony curtain (though only partway), and checking his phone to see if anything important happened while he was asleep (though nothing has).

With a nod, Akira heads into the bathroom. It only takes him a few minutes to get cleaned up (including combing his hair down to its usual level of disarray), but when he exits back into the main space of the apartment again, he feels no more collected than before.

"All yours," he announces, looking to Akechi. "I'll get started on breakfast."

It may only be his second visit, but there's something nice about the familiarity (and domesticity) of inviting himself to step into the kitchen and begin rooting through Akechi's fridge and cabinets. Just as he said, there's a much more complete catalog of ingredients at his disposal. A small smile settles unconsciously over Akira's face as he gathers the vegetables and gets to preparing them.

Akechi doesn't dawdle before slipping into the bathroom, though as usual he both takes a bit longer and emerges looking more composed than Akira. He does feel more composed, but the thoughts weighing him down right now aren't nearly as heavy.

Akechi's kitchen is barely large enough for one person so he knows better than to try to offer his help. He doesn't retreat all the way to the apartment proper, however, instead lingering in the 'hallway' connecting the two so he can start going through his closet. He's wondering what Akira's plans are for the day, but the first thing he should check is...

"Are you heading back to Leblanc after this?" He's pretty sure Futaba and Sojiro will miss him after a while, assuming they haven't noticed already.

Omurice is no curry and Akechi's kitchen is no Leblanc, but he moves comfortably enough, fueled by experience as he prepares the various components of the dish. Akira hears the bathroom door open in another part of the apartment, drawing his attention briefly. Akechi doesn't make an appearance, but his voice drifts into the kitchen.

"Yeah, I should check in." Futaba surely knows where he is by now, but he owes them a real explanation for his disappearance last night. Yesterday was rough for all of them, Sojiro included. "What are you going to do?"

There was talk about a party at Leblanc later, but he's never sure if Akechi will accept invitations like that.

The question about what he's planning to do gets a thoughtful hum from Akechi, though he stalls for a bit more time by pausing to pull his outfit for the day out of the closet.

"Takamaki-san was insistent that I join the party at Leblanc, so I'll be stopping by there later this evening." Ann had, in Akechi's opinion, adjusted to the idea of him being part of the Phantom Thieves faster than anyone besides Akira, so he always feels a little more inclined to acquiesce to her benign requests.

Part of him still expects the invitation to be suddenly withdrawn, however, so he keeps his tone casual, like he doesn't especially mind either way.

"Aside from that, I'm only planning on lunch - and catching up on studying for my entrance exams." Something needs to actively worry about again, now that the world isn't on the verge of ending.

So he'll probably find out with the rest of them. Guilt begins to rush in, but Akira pushes it away. He can't tell him beforehand; if he does, Akechi will try to stop him. He knows it. Here's hoping that he'll be able to understand why Akira had to keep it a secret.

He lets that part of the response slip by, focusing instead on the latter portion as he gets the onions started on the stove. "Not much longer for those..." With everything that went on, it's understandable that Akechi would fall behind and also unsurprising that he wouldn't compromise on his performance even after all of that. "How are you feeling about them?"

And... the invitation isn't redacted. Then again, why would it be? Akechi pushes the thought aside and pushes his closet door closed, finally moving towards the kitchen so that he can at least talk to Akira directly.

"Less prepared than I'd like, but still fairly confident." He shuffles his clothes from one hand to the other as he muses. "I scored well on the mock exams and studying has always come somewhat naturally to me." Which is true, despite the enormous amount of effort he puts into school. He may not be the natural genius he played at being, but he's still clever enough in his own right. "I'm sure Niijima-san and Okumura-san will be busy themselves." This might be the last chance any of them get to really relax with the rest of the group for the next month or so.

Hearing the pad of his feet coming into the room, Akira peers over his shoulder. "You'll do fine." He's sure of this. Akechi is smart, clever in a much more natural way than he is. It took a lot of studying for him to get to the top of his class, a feat he never accomplished back home. "You all will."

Akira shifts his attention back to the pan, dumping in the chicken. "It's going to be weird." No more Metaverse, no more Phantom Thieves, just... everyone living their lives.

Akira's comment on the matter of his (and Makoto and Haru's) results gets a grin out of Akechi.

"When you say it so confidently, I feel like I've got no choice but to believe it." Not that he wouldn't believe it otherwise, but as usual there's something magnetic about Akira and the things he says.

Which is perhaps why Akechi's thoughts are more easily pulled towards the future than they might have been otherwise. He has his own plans to assist with the investigation into Shido, though his are much less drastic (and likely much less help) than Akira's own, but even that won't last forever. Thinking about what comes after that, and then after that... it's exciting, despite the predictable low spots.

"It will be strange - especially if you move back to your hometown." It's a depressing thing to think about, but they've discussed the prospect and the possible solutions to it once already. No sense in avoiding it now. "I hope you're already planning to spend your entire summer break in Tokyo." Because the rest of the team might riot if he doesn't.

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