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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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Of course there are. There's no doubt that Akechi is a dangerous opponent in either scenario—but they're still only in the opening of the game, so Akira isn't going to overthink it, rather just try to set up an advantageous position early on. He shifts another pawn up, offset from Akechi's.

"Did you like the other drink?" he asks, conversationally, an abrupt shift in topic. It's not so much an intentional distraction as it is genuine curiosity. Akira had considered texting him to ask about it, but the thought fell to the wayside with everything that's happened over the past couple of days. He does still wonder if Akechi would indulge him in random text conversations, the meandering kind that he has with his other friends... an idea he'll have to test at some point.

It might be a little early for it, but Akechi switches to moving a knight forward for his second move. He doesn't have to think too much about it, however, so it's easy for him to continue the conversation.

"I did. I actually drank it while I was finishing off the case you helped me with." The caffeine content hadn't been as much as a regular cup of coffee but just the taste had been enough to help him focus. "I still think I prefer Leblanc's offerings, though."

Akira considers the move, fingertip tapping lightly against the countertop. Akechi is seemingly inclined towards a bolder play style; no shocker there. But that's fine—Akira has similar proclivities, and the thought of engaging Akechi in another cat-and-mouse game (with much lower stakes this time, given) gets his blood pumping quicker, for some reason. He mirrors the play on the opposite side.

"Good to hear, on both counts." Nudging his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, he regards Akechi with a smile. "I think I'd have to practice a lot more if you liked the premade stuff better."

"If you could find a way to make your coffee taste as good bottled as it does fresh I might never drink anything else." That's a lie, though - or at least a joke. The atmosphere and company are two big reasons he comes to Leblanc so much. "Though if I did that, I wouldn't be able to ask for your help again."

He moves a second pawn up, already angling to try to control the center. It's a little harder as the black player, but once again he doesn't hesitate. He may not be working from the same frame of reference as Akira but even he thinks there's something exciting about what's outwardly a simple game of chess. It's giving him a chance to learn a little bit more about Akira - which makes it that much easier to get invested.

As doubtful as the absolute truth of the statement is, it's still a flattering sentiment, even as a joke. The second part does catch Akira's attention though, drawing a quirk of his own eyebrows. Not that it's particularly visible behind all of the hair.

"You know you don't need the excuse of coffee to ask for my help, right? Or anything, really. We can always hang out as friends." Right as the statement leaves his mouth, it hits him: That he actually does feel like he can count Akechi as a friend. It's one of those weird, never-would-have-thought realizations, kind of like the way he catches himself considering Akechi's fingers more than he's considering the path he's taking with the chess piece. Akira's eyes flicker up to Sojiro's back as a smile tugs at his lips, adding, "You should definitely keep coming for coffee, though."

He redirects his focus to the game, surveying the front line they've created—both sides' soldiers ready to vie for control of the battlefield as soon as the first blood is shed. Maybe he's been exposed to Hifumi for too many long, Akira thinks as he moves another piece up, choosing to continue setting up rather than trying to claim any pieces.

It's weird to get called out like that, and even weirder to realize that he believes Akira's words. He's had a lot of people offer him platitudes like that before. Akira might be the first one that really means what he says, and that Akechi actually does consider a friend. He hesitates for half a heartbeat, midway through setting his piece down, but doesn't wait any longer than that to recover.

"I'll be sure to take you up on that, then." He can stop by just to talk, sure. There's something appealing about that. "The truth is, I was hoping the assistance that you offered me wouldn't end with the Kawanabe case." He turns his attention away from the board for a moment, focusing on Akira instead. "I've been hoping to find a reliable partner for similar cases in the future. You're the first person I've met I could trust with something like that."

Realizing the offer that Akechi is laying out, he allows himself to also forget about the game for the moment. Once upon a time, he'd passed a comment to Akira about working together, but it felt like a joke, a distant hypothetical, and Akira had been too wary to pursue it.

"I'll keep assisting you as long as I can be of help," Akira says without hesitation. In solving cases, of course, but it runs deeper than that. He has no intention of giving up on Akechi anytime soon, even as the date inches closer to inevitable chaos. "But I'm surprised you'd partner with someone who supports the Phantom Thieves' justice."

Akechi had asked without being sure of the answer. In fact, he'd been more inclined to think Akira would turn him down. So the positive response is a welcome surprise, and one that gets a smile out of Akechi.

So he's not really hoping for the conversation to turn to the Phantom Thieves, but he also doesn't mind it.

"They focus on criminals whose crimes were either unnoticed or difficult to prosecute, and that favored vulnerable targets who are unwilling or unable to speak up on their own." He turns his attention to game again, contemplating his next move. "And there's been no evidence the Phantom Thieves have demanded money or other compensation from any of their targets, nor have any of their targets recanted their confessions or made any claims to innocence."

Which makes it sound like he's on their side now. Akechi shakes his head.

"But their methods undermine the current justice system and could be putting innocent people at risk. How they're dong it is wrong. I have no doubt about that." He moves one of his bishops up. He hasn't taken one of Akira's pieces yet but he angling to start in the next turn. "But that doesn't mean what they're doing is evil."

A thorough and unbiased analysis. As to be expected of the great high school detective. It's tempting to once again poke fun at his praise, impartial though it is, but Akira would rather not draw focus from the subject at hand.

He follows the motion of the chess piece, thoughts split between the match and their conversation. Hearing Akechi preach the value of the justice system sounds much different when Akira knows what he's doing behind the scenes. It's a small but potent reminder that even if whatever bond is forming here is genuine, those things are still happening, and Akechi is still very much dangerous—despite the warm comfort Akira has started to slip into in his presence.

"Ah, then to be more accurate... Someone who believes they won't abuse their methods or hurt innocent people," Akira clarifies, finally extending a hand over the board.

The center of the chessboard is starting to look rather crowded, and Akechi was kind enough to give him the opening advantage... It would be a waste to let the momentum swing entirely in his opponent's favor. He moves to claim one of the black pawns, though it leaves his piece in a somewhat less comfortable position to do so, lips curling when he looks up again. "But I guess we can agree to disagree on that since it's out of our hands." Not quite, but he's sure that Akechi has yet to figure out his identity. "We're partners now, after all."

"Precisely." It's a good, succinct way of wrapping up the point. Akechi wouldn't have chosen those words himself, but it works. "If they're capable of changing hearts then there's certainly ways of twisting that to their advantage." Which brushes dangerously close to the truth of Akechi and his own misdeeds, but his expression doesn't shift at all as he says it. "But to do so, even in a positive way, with no oversight and no culpability in unacceptable."

Again, he doesn't even think about his own actions, already privately justifying them without a second thought. Those people are means to an end, not the goal itself, and it's all for the sake of taking out a much greater evil. It's fine.

"It's out of our hands for now." Akechi still has every intent of tracking down the Phantom Thieves and bringing them to justice, but... well, maybe it'll be better if Akira doesn't help. Bringing another factor into his plan this late in the game is dangerous. It might be better to keep him in 'reserve' until after everything is resolved. "But there's always more cases to pursue in the meantime."

But for now, Akechi is going to set himself to pursuing one of Akira's pieces. He accepts the loss of his pawn without so much as blinking, maneuvering his knight into a position that he's hoping will push Akira into sacrificing one of his pawns.

It's impressive how flawlessly Akechi delivers his opinions, betraying nothing of the truth. Akira can appreciate it now, the unflinching mask that Akechi wears, but it doesn't stop him from wanting to dig his fingers in, peel it away, and force him to show his true hand. But there's a time and place, and things will come to light sooner or later. Akira is capable of being patient, knows that the results will likely be better the more that Akechi trusts him.

He's leaning against the counter now, attention shifted back to the board. " Anything I can help with yet?" The subject of the Phantom Thieves seems to be a permanent impasse for them, one he brought up without really thinking about it, so Akira is happy to let the topic shift back to their new partnership.

After weighing his options, Akira decides to take the bait, letting his next move play out the way that Akechi probably hopes it will in favor of protecting his more important pieces. Shifting his mindset from shogi to chess is proving to be a challenge, but Akira thinks it might suit him more once he gets used to it, the all-or-nothing nature where once his pieces are gone, they're gone.

There's actually plenty that Akira could potentially help with, but how much of that should be considered 'anything' takes Akechi a moment to consider. He covers by considering the chess board for a minute.

"The psychotic breakdown cases are becoming more frequent," he finally allows, while also finally moving to take the piece he's pushed Akira into sacrificing. The psychotic breakdowns are his fault, of course, but that's not something he's intending to ever admit. Instead he's thinking in the long term; eventually it's going to come out that the Phantom Thieves are at fault for the shutdowns. Akechi wants a chance for Akira to witness the breakdowns before that; Akechi's willing to be the one to 'notice' the connection between the two types of incident, but it'll be better if Akira reaches that connection on his own. "And there's still no known cause or connection between the perpetrators."

Not officially, at least.

Is he really going to ask for "help" with those? Akira manages to contain his reaction to a brief flicker of his eyes to Akechi's face before returning his attention to the board. That's pretty bold, bringing up his own crimes for discussion. Then again, Akechi has always been about making bold, calculated moves.

"It must be hard to find a common thread between that many cases," he comments, shrugging a shoulder. "Especially with how different their actions are in each one." There's a lull in his speech for the time that he considers his next move, as well as his next words. Eventually Akira shifts a piece up and continues, "It sort of reminds me of how suddenly people change after being targeted by the Phantom Thieves."

His gaze jumps back to Akechi, ready to catch a reaction, if any.

Usually, Akechi keeps a pretty solid lid on his reactions. It's not like he never lets anything slip through, but he's still decent at keeping things under wraps. He's had a lot of practice.

All that practice doesn't do him a bit of good here. He's openly shocked when Akira makes his 'guess' glancing back up to him before he can help it. He realizes too late he's let his expression slip too much to play it off, so rather than try he switches tactics, leaning back in his chair with an expression that's both thoughtful and a bit troubled. Truthfully, he's more excited than uneasy.

"That's... something I'd considered." It hadn't been his idea to turn things around on the Phantom Thieves, but it's still a conclusion he thinks he would have come to if he were otherwise ignorant of the situation. "My instinct tells me 'no'. The timing, methods, and nature of the victims are all quite dissimilar." For a good reason; they're not the same person. "But it's not a possibility I can dismiss out of hand."

There's always satisfaction in eliciting a genuine response from Akechi. Akira manages to stifle any hint of that feeling under a pensive one as he listens to Akechi's thoughts.

"I don't think it's them," he agrees, and now his focus is set solely on Akechi, no attempts to hide it. "But there is the possibility that whatever their methods are, the same thing is being used in the psychotic breakdown cases." Akira sits back as well. "Two different groups with different goals."

Well, that's the conclusion Akechi wants Akira to reach eventually, but he feels oddly conflicted about it. On one hand he's completely right, which means his instincts are good. On the other hand, it's not like having Akira so close to the truth is comfortable, and knowing that the other 'truth' will eventually come out...

Well, Akechi doesn't have to fake it (too much) in order to look troubled.

"That's a possibility, but that theory has it's own set of problems. It's unlikely that two different groups could both find methods of performing these crimes without a trace." Akechi had certainly been stunned when he realized what was really going on. "And if it is true, the implications for what might happen in the future are unpleasant to consider."

It seems a lot less unlikely once one knows this is all a game orchestrated by a megalomaniacal god. "I guess we'll see," Akira says, and...

They're back on the subject of the Phantom Thieves again. This conversation is starting to feel like it's going in circles, and that's more discouraging than Akira would care to admit. With how easily Akechi brings up his crimes, not even the slightest hint of remorse, he can't help but wonder if it's too late. Is this even salvageable? Can he even get through to Akechi?

He bites back a sigh and thinks of that final exchange between them in the previous timeline, the memory sparking his dwindling sense of determination. It can't be too late.

"... There's a cafe I frequent in Shibuya that's advertising a new dessert. Do you want to check it out with me?" It's a random pivot, but... It worked that first time at the TV station, didn't it?

The sudden shift in conversion catches Akechi almost as off guard as Akira bluntly bringing up the Phantom Thieves did. He blinks again, staring for a moment, but it doesn't take long for a smile to cross his expression. A genuine one, even. He supposes arguing about whether or not someone you sincerely believe in is actually evil would be an unpleasant conversation for anyone. Even (or maybe especially) someone like Akira.

"I'd love to." That's sincere, too. Akechi is always ready to try new dishes. "Though if it's popular we might need to set aside out a couple of hours to visit." Akechi doesn't mind doing that when he's going to check something out alone, but there's actually something appealing about doing it with Akira.

The smile that follows is so bright that it's hard to believe this is the same guy who was just lying to Akira's face about his crimes. Akechi's carefully woven manipulations and the honest smile that appears so easily—both feel so real, two sides of the same coin that Akira was never able to get close enough to truly appreciate the first time around.

"It usually isn't that crowded," he says, sitting back in his chair, and a smile touches upon the corners of his own mouth. This is... new, planning an outing with Akechi, but definitely not unwelcome. "How about this Sunday?"

It's a new experience for Akechi, too - new enough that the significance of it hasn't even clicked for him yet.

"Sunday," he agrees. "Would the early afternoon work? Though my schedule is open any time except morning." That's a pretty common limitation to his free time, when he has any at all.

For the moment, he continues to ignore the chessboard. He hasn't quite forgotten it, but he's been thoroughly derailed for the time being.

"Early afternoon's fine." Akira tends to keep his schedule pretty malleable, and knowing most everything that's coming makes it that much easier to ensure he won't miss anything important. And right now, the number one priority on his agenda is building something here with Akechi. Some kind of trust or bond that will hopefully change the course of events once shit hits the fan—an inevitability that seems to be hurtling closer way faster than it has any right to.

"One o'clock at Shibuya station work for you? We can go together from there."

"I'll be there." That was nice and easy to plan, wasn't it? Although...

He glances down at the chessboard again, giving their game another thought. He's not opposed to the idea of finishing now, but...

"And maybe we can pick up our game again when we're done." He sounds a little apologetic, but also like he's set on the idea. He's definitely lost his train of thought for the time being, and he's pretty sure he'll make both a poor opponent and a poor teacher if they try to continue now.

"It's a date," he replies, the easy sort of quip that he would make with his friends, though Akira realizes after the words are out of his mouth that it might be sort of weird to joke about that with someone who once (and may again, if he doesn't pull this off) attempted to kill him. Oh well. Akira has long given up the illusion that his life is even remotely normal.

Akechi's comment brings his eyes back down to the board. It's true that they've lost the thread there. "Sure." It's not like anyone is going to touch it if they just set it aside until next time.

"I'll be sure to dress my best." What might feel sort of weird to joke about to Akira feels perfectly normal to Akechi. Akira isn't someone he's planning to betray. Right now he's just a friend.

And now that he's actually, finally thinking of him that way, Akechi mood is visibly improved. He doesn't have to pretend to smile as he packs up and departs for the night, thanking Akira for the game and taking a picture of the board just in case it gets jostled or reset before they continue. Even once he leaves he stays in a good mood. It's weird to actually think about the future with something like optimism, rather than just focused determination. He's actually thinking about what his life might be like he blackmails Shido in more than just vague terms. Going forward with a reliable partner will be different. Interesting. Even exciting, he lets himself think.

Of course, his good cheer doesn't last more than a few hours. Even knowing that it's intentional and will likely be reversed, watching his popularity dwindle as the Phantom Thieves' climbs puts him right back into a typically cynical mood. It's a jarring reminder of just how narrow the parameters for his success are. Then again, that just makes him appreciate Akira's (seeming, Akechi halfheartedly reminds himself) honesty even more.

So while he seems a bit preoccupied when he approaches the station on Sunday, his pensive expression vanishes in favor of a more cheerful one once he picks Akira out of the crowd. Akira gets a small wave, though Akechi waits until he's closer before speaking.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting." He's not actually late, but not as early as he usually tries to be to meetings. "I had to take a call on the way over." It had been short, but still long enough to delay him a bit.

As Akira sees Akechi out the door that night, there's a tiny, unplaceable feeling needling at the back of his mind.

It lingers through the rest of the night, and even as he gets ready on Sunday morning—a process that takes longer than it usually does. Suddenly, all of his clothes seem entirely too similar, too boring. Which is... quite a thought, considering that he's never really cared until now what anyone else thought of how he dressed, but his goal here is to continue making a good impression on Akechi. Every bit counts, right?

He can feel Morgana's judgement when he spends far too long debating to end up in one of the same outfits as usual. "Don't," Akira says warningly, though the fondness is there in his voice, and slings his bag over his shoulder. "I'll pick you up something on the way home."

Despite the delays in getting out the door, Akira still ends up arriving at the station early. He busies himself with playing on his phone so that the minutes slide by quicker, and before long, Akechi emerges from the crowd.

"Not really. You're still early," he shrugs it off, sliding his phone back into his pocket. Nothing less than he's come to expect from Akechi. Seemingly perfect, professional, punctual. "I hope everything's okay." Probably. If it were anything pressing, Akira assumes he'd prioritize it over having lunch.

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