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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

And that, in turn, throws Akira for a loop. It's not exactly common for Akechi to address him by name, even formally, so to hear his given name is new and jarring in an entirely pleasant way. Akira, always cool as a cucumber, so rarely one to get flustered, actually feels slight warmth in his cheeks.

It takes a beat for his brain to catch up enough to form a reply. "... No problem." A small smile has fitted itself to his face. "Just setting the record straight." As he's finishing off the sentence, Akira wonders: Is this where he responds in kind? Would it be weird to call him Goro? Is it too late now?

Luckily, Sojiro swoops in and saves him from his internal debate by setting Akechi's coffee before him, effectively ending the moment. Akira lets his shoulders return to their usual slouch as he tucks his hands into his pockets beneath his apron.

Wow, did Akechi throw Akira off his game for once? The realization gives Akechi's smile a bit of an amused edge, though not near enough to overpower the embarrassed sincerity from a moment ago.

Sojiro's arrival does, indeed, end the moment, but it feels more like a natural segue than a rude interruption. Akechi thanks him and focuses on his coffee for a moment, giving himself a moment to compose himself again before he jumps to the next (and apparently his favorite) subject.

"It looks like you were right, by the way. It seems that the Phantom Thieves solved the incident with Medjed without any trouble at all." Akechi had been pretty sure that particular ploy would flop, but there's something weird gratifying about being correct, even if it's to the conspiracy's detriment.

The conversation, predictably, turns to the Phantom Thieves. Akira's not the least bit surprised to hear the case come up—really, Akechi's been dealing with more fallout from this one than the Thieves themselves have.

Akira may have found some satisfaction in watching the shift in public approval before, may have felt like they were getting the positive recognition they deserved, but now the feeling is completely absent. He knows how important Akechi's image is to him now. He knows that his mood earlier was probably spurred by all of the hate being thrown his way. And he knows that this hit to Akechi's psyche is all just another part of Shido's plan, the kind of pain he wouldn't think twice about causing if it benefits him. It makes him feel kind of ill, or angry, or both, but Akira can save that energy for later.

"Mm," he hums in agreement. "They did cut it close, though." That's more of a playful jab directed at Futaba than anything, earning him a barely-there grumble from behind. Before, he had faith that she would pull through in time, but even so, the last few days ended up being stressful. It wasn't nearly as harrowing an experience this time.

"Maybe that's just their flair for the dramatic at play." He's certain they do absolutely everything in the flashiest manner possible, which is an interesting contrast to their proclivity for working in the shadows.

He doesn't miss Futaba's grumble at Akira's comment, but he's completely off-base in his assumption about the motivations behind it.

"You're Futaba-chan, right?" She has to be. What other girl her age would be hanging around Sojiro Sakura's cafe? "The Phantom Thieves are pretty popular with your demographic. Are you a fan, too?" He thinks that must be it. Why else would she be grumbling about their close call?

It's a little weird to talk to her while she's hiding behind Akira, but Akira seems to attract weird people effortlessly. Akechi decides to just roll with it.

Flair for the dramatic... Well, he can't argue that one. They certainly do know how to make a statement. Akechi doesn't need to know that this time was just a coincidence.

Akira isn't quite caught off-guard when Akechi shifts the conversation to Futaba, but it does give him pause. She huffs out a quiet hmph at the question, and he has to restrain himself from verbally stepping in to divert the attention away from her. Protective instincts aside, he knows that Futaba is more than capable of handling herself, even now.

And... she's not interested in engaging him, judging by how fast that conversations hut down. That's not much of a surprise, though, so he can shrug it off much more easily than he handled Futaba and Akira's chilly reactions earlier. His improved mood stays right where it is.

"Well, I'm sure it won't be long before we see them make their next big move. Their activity is growing right along with their popularity." And that, of course, is meant to be their downfall. Akechi's not about to spoil that part, but there is something else he's curious about. His gaze returns to Akira. "Where do you think they'll go from here? Each of their calling cards has been addressed to someone with more influence than the last. It almost seems like they're running out of bigger targets to pursue."

And that's that. He's glad that Akechi is considerate enough not to probe, and—also kind of glad to have this question directed at him. As tiring as it can sometimes be to watch himself around Akechi, carefully measuring out how much information he can utilize before it becomes suspicious, there's also something thrilling about seeing what kind of responses he can elicit with his supposed guesses.

"I don't think they've run out just yet." Akira knows where they're going next, and he thinks that Akechi must, too. But dropping "a CEO" as speculation might be a little too close for comfort right now. Instead... "Maybe a politician. There are plenty of corrupt ones out there." And if Akechi does try to pry into that opinion, he can fall back on the fact that he's seen it in his time with Yoshida. "They've been getting more spotlight with the election coming up, so it could be a flashy target."

And then he shrugs a shoulder, off-hand, like it's all just conjecture anyway. "What do you think?"

That particular response, at least, doesn't shock Akechi. It's a pretty logical next step.

"A politician wouldn't be surprising, though a celebrity or a CEO would make sense, too." His tone doesn't change a bit as he offers his 'theory'. He takes a sip of his coffee, making a brief show of being thoughtful. "Though maybe they'll be more creative, too. Someone involved in banking or law enforcement, for example." Even without knowing that Sae will eventually be targeted the latter possibility occurs to him easily.

There's something he's curious about, too, though he keeps his voice casual.

"You mentioned politicians. Do you think there's one that's a likely target?"

Akira just nods his agreement with what's thrown out. Of course Akechi would feel comfortable dropping his own thoughts so close to the truth, even to the point of bringing up law enforcement. Has it been planned that far in advance? Akira imagines so. The amount of pressure it would take to push Sae to that point can't be developed overnight. How much of this entire conspiracy Akechi is privy to ahead of time, though, is another matter entirely. It could just be a coincidence.

The next question has him looking thoughtful, but it's less that he's searching for an answer and more that Akira is wondering how much is too much. And as is typical of him, he ends up toeing that line.

"I think they would favor someone well-liked... Kind of like Masayoshi Shido, if he were secretly corrupt." He twirls a lock of hair between his fingers as he continues to voice his reasoning. "It'd be the biggest danger to the people and the most shocking exposure."

It's not the first time Akira has blown past Akechi's expectations and landed right on the answer that he was trying to carefully guide him towards. But Akechi doesn't look shocked when Shido's name is suddenly part of the conversation. His smile doesn't fade and his eyes don't widen; he only looks thoughtful and relaxed, entirely like this is just a fun lark to pursue and not at all like just hearing his name is enough to send a surge of contempt and hatred rushing through him.

"That's... an interesting name to settle on." Again, he sounds thoughtful, but as he turns his gaze back to Akira there's something else in his expression. Most people probably wouldn't catch it but he's suddenly got a look of keen interest in his eyes, like Akira's the only person in the room. "He's not the only popular politician, you know. Why jump right to him?" Shido's image is quite pristine at the moment. If there's just one other person who can see past it, one other person with even one small suspicion, one other person that has even the faintest idea of what Shido is actually like...

He honestly would've expected Shido's name to draw some amount of surprise from Akechi. Instead, Akira is left with the distinct feeling that he's stumbled into the exact position Akechi wants him to be in.

And that's dangerous. He knows better than to give Akechi any leverage in their interactions, especially conversations concerning the Phantom Thieves, but the underlying intensity in his eyes has Akira pinned down, and he's not quite sure he wants to move.

"Something about him bothers me," Akira answers simply, gaze never straying from Akechi. That much is true. Shido has always rubbed him the wrong way—he just didn't know that it was his subconscious filling a gap where his memory couldn't quite make the connection.

That's as far as this can go. Technically, he shouldn't be aware of his own ties to Shido yet. And sure, Akira has considered jumping ahead, blowing this whole thing open and tearing through Shido's Palace early. But what of Haru, Sae, even Akechi? This is one case he can't take a risk on.

Something about him bothers me. That's less than Akechi hoped for and more than he ever could have asked for. The intense look in his eye fades, replaced by something more calm and contemplative.

"If that's how you feel, you shouldn't ignore it." Much as part of him wants to jump out of his seat and yell about how right Akira is, he knows better. "Humans are more adept at sensing danger than we realize, and your instincts are particularly sharp." There's a pause while Akechi weighs what he wants to say next, though he covers it by taking another sip of coffee. When he does speak, he sounds like he's making a joke. "Maybe I should be careful if I ever run into him."

That almost amuses him. What is "normal high school student" Akira supposed to do about it? Cast his nonexistent vote for someone else? Start a one-man campaign against Shido? Ask the Phantom Thieves to deal with him?

When Akechi does make what seems to be an attempt at a joke, it's considerably less funny. "Yeah, probably," he agrees, a bit subdued, and Akira can't help but look away. After all, it's hard to look Akechi in the eyes when he's thinking back to his last moments. Memories are supposed to become less difficult to deal with over time, but that one only festers more and more raw the closer he gets to Akechi.

Akira knows something.

The second he looks away the thought clicks into place and Akechi just can't shake it off. He feels tense, excited, like when he's right on the verge of solving a difficult case. He's tense and wary, sure - there's no telling what it is that Akira knows, or what the implications will be for Akechi - but both emotions are completely overpowered by something that feels a lot like hope. He wants push this opportunity while he can, dig deeper and deeper until he can reach the truth--

"I won't be able to finish our game tonight, by the way." --but he shouldn't. He needs to step back, regroup, and do more research before he tries to make his next move. Even so, he still wears a focused, contemplative expression. "I have some other things to see to, so I'm afraid I only have time for coffee." He's been visiting Leblanc with the intent of sitting and chatting for a while now, so stopping by just for coffee feels a little unusual by now.

"Another time." He's... disappointed. There's really no reason to be. This conversation has swung heavily in Akechi's favor, and cutting it short means that he can't dig himself any deeper. Today is supposed to be about Futaba, anyway, not indulging this ill-advised thing he has for Akechi. Still, that twinge of dissatisfaction hangs in the back of his mind long after Akechi leaves for the day.

Luckily, the coming days leave him little time to dwell on it. There's the beach trip, then the matter of Kobayakawa. Eventually Akira settles on a risk: changing his heart in hopes that it'll prevent Akechi from being able to target him. The workings of the Metaverse are still a mystery in many ways, but logically, it should work.

It's easy enough to slip in the request, and they complete it a mere couple of days before their class trip. Akira feels pretty good about it, enough that he's able to actually enjoy the vacation. The past few months of strategizing over the timeline, fretting over the fates of his friends, has stressed him out more than he realized, but it melts away once he's out of the country.

Any residual relaxation comes crashing down after they arrive back in Japan. The news from Makoto comes, same as before. Kobayakawa is dead, and Akira realizes—

Stupid. He was stupid. Shido has plenty of sway with the police department, something he's had firsthand experience with, so why wouldn't he use that to deal with Kobayakawa before he can talk? And Akira sent him right into that situation. But what else could he have done? It eats at him. Would the same thing happen with Okumura? Akechi? What's the point of all of this knowledge if it doesn't give him an advantage when it really matters? Has he been wrong in only trying to enact small changes up until now?

That thought swirls and swirls, stewing over the following day. Still, it's really more of a split decision when he messages Akechi: Come to Leblanc when you have some time. I need to talk to you. He doesn't bother expressing any sort of urgency through text. The fact that he's contacting Akechi this way should speak enough to the importance of what he wants to say.

It's the first time Akechi hasn't been able to find someone in the Metaverse, and it's enough to send him into a mild panic. The thought of failing and, more critically, what that failure will do to his standing with the rest of the Conspiracy makes me nauseous. He overstays his welcome in the Metaverse by several hours, and when he finally staggers through his apartment door well after midnight he knows he's lucky he makes it all the way to the bed before collapsing.

Admitting the next day that he couldn't track down Kobayakawa's Shadow is the most nervewracking thing Akechi has ever done - and then he finds out that, in essence, everyone else already knows. In a case of truly unlucky timing a request to handle Kobayakawa had been put on the Phantom Thieves' website and, apparently, been handled entirely before Shido even gave his final order to proceed. Kobayakawa was confessing while Akechi was on his assassination mission, and an alternate plan to handle him is already in place when Akechi calls to announce his own failure. By the end of the day Kobayakawa falls victim to a highly unusual and highly messy subway accident that is 'coincidentally' highly beneficial to Shido's plans. His confession never sees the light of day.

Akechi would like to take a break, but he knows that making himself visible somewhere far away from a murder is vital. So he forces himself to go about his daily business like nothing is wrong, but his mind is racing. Now that the excitement has passed his mind keeps tripping over two details.

First, that Kobayakawa is - was - the principal of Shujin Academy.

Second, that the request was accepted and completed within just a couple days.

Akechi is certain, now more than ever, that the Phantom Thieves are students at Shujin. Or at the very least, their founding members are. Otherwise why target a teacher from there first, or be so quick to handle a request to target the principal? It brings him back to one of his earliest suspicions, but this time it only stirs worry instead of interest. Before he's always considered what to do if a theory turns out to be wrong, but now he wonders what he's supposed to do if this one turns out to be right?

The sudden request from Akira inspires another emotion Akechi isn't used to associating with, to put it simply, his only friend: unease. His inexperience with interpersonal relationships doesn't help, nor does the fact that he doesn't even know what to start assuming about such an ominous message. Instinct tells him to bail immediately.

But instead he responds that he'll come by as soon as he can, and within just a couple of days an unexpected cancellation of plans (courtesy of Sae, of all people) leaves him with a free evening. It's short notice, but he messages Akira shortly before school ends to let him know that he's finally free. He makes his way for Leblanc just a few hours later.

He has no idea what to expect, he realizes - even less so than usual when Akira is involved. But he shows up all the same, stepping through Leblanc's door with a subdued but far from unhappy expression.

Waiting to see Akechi is trying, but Akira is accustomed to keeping his inner turmoil under wrap. He's the calm one, the collected one, the one everyone looks to when they need their faith renewed. Even so, his demeanor still takes a hit. He's just the slightest bit more quiet and distracted than usual, enough for those closest to him to pick up on. Everyone attributes his dampened mood to Morgana's absence, which definitely hasn't been helping. Akira isn't one to mope, though, so the days pass almost as productively as usual while he keeps his nerves on the backburner.

They don't stay there for long. When Akechi finally announces that he'll be coming, it throws his brain into overdrive. He ends up offering to help at the café for the afternoon, willing to take anything that'll keep him occupied during the wait.

He's just finished cleaning up after the previous customer when Akechi enters. Seeing him is as much a relief as it is a fresh match to the dumpster fire his head has been. "Hey," he offers, his usual greeting.

Sojiro gives his own and slides off his stool, ready to get started on Akechi's usual, but Akira cuts him off. "Actually, he's just here to check out some books I got." It's not his best excuse, that's for sure, but Akechi is definitely sharp enough to play along. Sojiro regards Akira with an analyzing look, quiet for a moment before he shrugs and returns to his seat. "Alright. You've been at it for a while, go take a break."

Akira unties the apron and slides it off, leaving it behind the counter before he steps out and towards the stairs to the attic.

Well that's an obvious lie.

But Akira is right: Akechi knows how to play along. Once he's returned the greetings he makes sure to thank Sojiro for his offer and give him a winning but entirely fake smile. And then he's... following Akira up to his room.

It's a normal thing for friends (no, friendly acquaintances) (no, friends) to do, but Akechi finds himself feeling both weirdly apprehensive and weirdly excited. So he's silent as he climbs, smile fading as he refrains from making any of his usual jokes or chatter. While part of him is worried he's about to walk into a bad situation for himself specifically, he's surprised to find that he's mostly worried about why Akira called him here. Even from this brief interaction Akechi gets the feeling he's not himself, but is it alright to ask? And even if it is, should he ask? What if can't do anything about is? What if he can? What if--

Akechi's so wrapped up in his thoughts he doesn't even notice when they reach the top of the stairs, and he shows no signs of zoning back in if he's not interrupted.

And here it is: Akira's humble little slice of Tokyo, a dusty hodgepodge of furniture and items stored from the cafe and gifts and souvenirs. It's not the first time he's had Akechi in his bedroom, overall, but it certainly feels like a new experience right now. He'll just chalk that up to having it be the two of them rather than something like a team meeting.

It might seem like he's brought Akechi up here to escape Sojiro's listening range, and that is true, but he's honestly more worried about avoiding the bugs Futaba planted in Leblanc. He might not be sure where this is going to go, but Akira does know that he doesn't want it on tape. Maybe if he were concerned for his safety, he'd feel differently. He's certain Akechi wouldn't murder him in his own home, though.

He glances back as he steps into the bedroom proper to find Akechi with that glazed-over look he tends to get whenever he's deep in thought. "... Hey," Akira speaks up, trying not to startle him. "You can sit down if you want."

Akechi blinks when Akira speaks, finally realizing that he's actually in Akira's room. It's... not much, is it? It's actually pretty big - Akechi's entire apartment is only a little larger - but it certainly is run down and mismatched. Still, the personal touches stop it from feeling as bland and lifeless as, say, Akechi's own apartment. Once again, he can only think that it suits Akira perfectly.

He nods at Akira's offer and take a seat on his small couch, setting his briefcase on the floor and sliding it out of the way. He wants to ask immediately why Akira called him over, but instead...

"They must be interesting books, if you called me over so urgently." Instead he makes another joke, though his tone is so calm and his expression is so neutral it might seem like he actually believes that's why he's here.

The joke seems to break some of the tension that's simmering under his skin, enough that Akira actually cracks a small smile. "I actually do have some, if you're interested later."

His expression fades back into something more neutral as he pulls out the chair from the desk and lowers himself onto it. Normally, before taking a leap, literally or figuratively, Akira would feel a pulse of adrenaline. There's definitely a wave of something hitting him, but it's not the usual excitement.

This has to happen, though. Their first infiltration of Okumura's Palace is creeping up. Sometime after that, Akechi will discover their identities, and… something about that doesn't sit right with him. It made sense when they were just acquaintances, but who knows it would do to an actual friendship (that's at least what Akira would like to believe this is) for Akechi to find out without ever hearing it from Akira's own mouth. It's not like he hasn't felt guilty about the constant lies, even with the dishonesty stemming from his own sense of self-preservation.

"I have to come clean about something," he starts, leaning his elbows on his knees, although his eyes stay leveled towards Akechi's. This may not even come as a surprise to Akechi. Akira knows that the profiling once led him practically to their doorstep; he has to have at least suspected Akira before, if only in passing. "I'm a member of the Phantom Thieves."

It's not like Akechi didn't have his suspicions already. It's not like he hasn't considered what to do if he's right. It's not like he's not half anticipating it when Akira says he needs to 'come clean'.

But still.... still, when he actually says the words Akechi's jaw drops. Even if he's been suspicious, even if he's been open about his suspicions, this is the last thing he expected to hear. The last thing he wanted to hear, he realizes. For once in his life he didn't want to be right. He wants to be totally off base, wants Akira to be just a normal if unusually astute high school student. The Phantom Thieves are his enemy, a group of pests he's already resolved to either utterly crush or flat out kill. They're the biggest threat to his plans, whether they realize it or not.

Akechi closes his mouth and leans forward, unconsciously mirroring Akira's pose as he props his elbows on his knees. He takes it a step further, though, lacing his fingers together and resting his forehead against his hands. Dozens of memories flash past him at once. All the times Akira has played dumb about his connection to the Phantom Thieves; the attempts to dig for information that seem so obvious in hindsight; how easily Akira had 'guessed' at the similarity between the changes of heart and the mental shutdowns.

And just when Akechi thinks he can be angry about that he remembers how Akira had helped him with the Kawanabe case; how readily he'd expressed genuine sympathy for him, even knowing Akechi was his enemy; all the times they'd simply spent time together without a single word about the Phantom Thieves spoken; how painfully happy it had made him to hear something as simple as I want you.

He feels like he's just been knocked over and tumbled around by a wave, with no idea of which way is up and no idea if that's even the direction he wants to go. But eventually he ends up speaking before he realizes it.

"You have to realize how dangerous it is to tell me something like that."

He honestly isn't sure what to expect, a feeling that's both terrifying and refreshing all at once. So many thing until now have been the same or similar enough that they're rarely surprising. But this whole thing with Akechi is new, something he can always count on to provide fresh experiences, good experiences, and, well—Akira may have just smashed that to bits if he's been reading Akechi wrong all of this time. He's pretty sure he's not, though.

"Yeah," he admits, wishing that he could catch a glimpse of Akechi's face. It's impossible to tell what's going on beneath the surface. "That's what kept me from it until now." Akira realizes the extent of the danger much more than Akechi knows. "But I'm sick of lying to you."

That much is true. It doesn't help that he's still withholding things. Part of him wants to spill everything, to give it all up and to place his absolute trust in Akechi. But Akira doesn't know if he's going to get another shot at this, and the literal fate of the world hangs in the balance. He has to play it smarter than that and not take a blind risk just because Akechi does funny things to his priorities.

If Akira had said anything else Akechi thinks he could have salvaged this situation. If Akira had given him any other reason, or even the same reason but worded slightly different, Akechi thinks he could have figured out what to do. Figured out how to get rid of the Phantom Thieves after all. Figured out how to keep his revenge on track. Figured out how to keep everything from falling to pieces.

Once again, though, he's left with no idea what to do.

Akechi finally sits back up, but his expression is a composed mask again. For now, at least, he needs it to be.

"You should stop." He knows that's impossible the second he says it, but he has to try. "You have no idea what some of the people you've threatened are capable of." Revealing that Akechi knows that much about this country's inner workings - or that he knows anything at all about it - is incredibly dangerous and foolish to the point of idiocy - but he has to try. For the sake of both of them, he need to make Akira give this up before he goes too far.

It takes a moment to register that Akechi is trying to reason with him. That, in itself, feels important. Too bad it couldn't possibly shift Akira off this track.

"I know what they're capable of." A murder in an interrogation room, broadcast as a suicide. But in this timeline... "Kobayakawa, the principal of Shujin—we changed his heart. I'm sure you already know how that turned out." There's no doubt that Akechi's aware of the details of the incident. "Someone made sure his confession wouldn't get out."

Akechi's expression may be carefully blanketed, but his own is carrying the regret from playing the part he did in Kobayakawa's death. "I can't stop," he states, no room for argument. If they were to stop now and allow these things to continue to happen, they'd be no better than all of the people who stayed silent while Kamoshida terrorized the school.

( for fabrications )

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