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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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There's no real hesitation before he answers. Akira has already gone all-in on deciding to trust Akechi with this.

"A thing that thinks he's a god. Yaldabaoth." There's a subtle distaste in his voice, the same kind reserved for the other despicable people they've targeted up until now. "He gave us our powers and manipulated things to put Shido where he is. It's all part of a game that's meant to end in him controlling humanity."

He doesn't take pleasure in revealing that Akechi's been used as a pawn on an even larger scale than he though, but it's necessary. Akira worries a lock of hair between his fingers. Yaldabaoth may have put them on opposite ends of this, but that doesn't mean they have to follow the fates they've been dealt. There's nothing stopping them from teaming up to take him down—it might even be necessary.

Of all the things he's learned tonight, this one is the easiest to swallow. Akechi has often wondered where his power came from and how he got it, especially in the early days when he was fumbling through the Metaverse and figuring it out on his own. A god playing games with all of them makes as much sense as anything else. For a moment he's caught up in wondering what could have happened if he'd met Akira just a year earlier.

Still, Akira's unease about revealing just how much of a pawn Akechi has really been isn't misplaced. His expression darkens as he considers the implications of that statement, but for the first time in this conversation his anger is in no way directed at Akira. Once again, he isn't completely certain he buys into everything he's been told, but he's willing to at least try to believe it.

"If that's his goal, picking you for his game wasn't very smart of him." He doesn't even try to keep the cynical note out of his voice, but he sounds and looks more thoughtful than angry. He glances back to Akira, idly wondering if his habit of playing with his hair is why it's so wavy now. "You should stay away from Leblanc until tomorrow evening." A moment ago he was going to pettily let Akira figure things out for himself, but now he decides it's best to not cut him totally loose. Though it takes a moment to talk himself into it, he also adds: "If you can't find somewhere else to lay low, there's room at my apartment."

That had been the original plan, though now all Akechi can think is that letting Akira into his apartment means he'll need to figure out somewhere else to stay for the night. He's not exactly in the mood for company.

While he doesn't seem to completely buy into Akira's explanations, Akechi doesn't outright discount them either, and that feels like enough of a victory to him. Akira is willing to let this sit for now. That is a pretty big bomb he just dropped, and he knows Akechi is the kind of person to weigh his options before making such a decision.

The offer of his own apartment has surprise flickering through Akira's expression. Surely Akechi can't be totally comfortable with that, but… where else does he have to go? There's no telling how extensively his friends and other contacts are being watched; going to any of them could be tantamount to turning himself back in to the police and, even worse, painting a target on their backs as well. He briefly considers staying here in the Metaverse, a thought that he quickly tosses away. Even with his familiarity with Sae's Palace, this place still doesn't feel safe, and he's not sure he wants to risk sleeping in this dimension. And he'd really like to sleep right about now.

"… I'll take you up on that." He wonders if there's any way he can contact the others to let them know he's alive. What happened when Sae went back to get him and found an empty interrogation room? Would she have let them know that he's missing? Hopefully she didn't poke around further at the risk of her own safety.

Just as Akira is surprised to be given the option, Akechi is a bit surprised that he accepts it. Surely he realizes that there's about a dozen ways he could use that to double-cross him at the last second. Maybe he's just too exhausted to realize - or maybe he means what he said, and he really isn't lying about considering him a friend.

Once again, Akechi has no idea what the real answer is.

He digs into one of his coat's inner pockets and withdraws a small, sealed envelope. There's a key and a sheet of paper with his address inside, though he doesn't explain that. He's sure Akira can figure that out on his own.

"I'm not sure when I'll be back." It's the middle of the day right now, but he suspects that Shido will want him to tie up a few loose ends before night falls. "So help yourself to whatever you need." Akechi has already removed any overly revealing personal effects from his room - or started to, at least, before realizing he didn't actually have any. It's fine if Akira decides to ransack the place.

If Akira is worried about there being danger in going to his home, it's only in the form of being concerned about Akechi being caught harboring a supposedly dead man. However, Akira's pretty sure that this offer is only on the table because he's confident that won't be the case.

So he accepts the envelope without question. Between context clues and the slight weight to it, it's not too hard to figure out the contents. There is, admittedly, some curiosity about his apartment, although he doubts there's all that much to be gleaned about Akechi there if he's letting Akira stay without supervision.

And then there's the matter of what Akechi is going to be up to. Even with the bug on his phone, a lot of his actions are still shrouded in mystery. Is he off to continue to be Shido's lapdog? Or will he be attending to his own agenda? Akira decides he'd rather not dwell on it, not when all of the adrenaline is wearing off and exhaustion seeps into its place. There are some things he's better off not knowing.

"Thanks," he says, and once again, it doesn't feel like quite enough to cover all of this. "Be careful."

Whether it's deliberate or not, the echoing of Akechi's earlier warning to Akira gets a pause out of him. He's not sure what to make of it either, but after a moment he nods.

"You, too." Akira needs it more than he does, he suspects. Akechi turns to leave, though at the last second he remembers to hand Akira's phone over. He has no idea why Sae gave it to him (though he's got a strong suspicion, which makes him wonder how much she knows), but he doubts he needs it more than Akira does.

Akechi's apartment ends up being pretty close, only a few stops (or, most likely for Akira) a half hour walk away and not far from Roppongi Hills. The neighborhood and apartment building aren't nearly so flashy, of course, but they're just busy enough that no one so much as glances at Akira as he passes through.

As for Akechi's apartment itself, it's... kind of boring, though 'sterile' might be the better choice of word. It's a studio apartment, not that much larger than Akira's attic even with the bathroom and small kitchen. While it's tidy and stocked with the sort of furniture that could be expected in any student apartment - a bed, a couch, a small desk, a short bookshelf, and a small electric heater - it's also largely devoid of anything resembling a personal touch. There's no photos, no decorations, and only a few signs of his hobbies, such as the bicycle on his balcony, a handful of mystery novels on his bookshelf, and a small stack of magazines on his desk.

Regardless, there's signs he was expecting company and expecting not to be present when said company arrived. Easily prepared food like ramen and convenience store bento are in the kitchen, a first aid kit right is by the entryway, and both a towel and a set of loose-fitting pajamas have been left folded on the bathroom counter.

It turns out that Akechi's assumptions that he wouldn't be around are correct. Reporting Akira's 'suicide' to Shido is easy enough, but the discussion on what to do with the SIU Director takes a bit longer. Akechi cautions Shido against acting too quickly, but in the end the result is the same: Shido wants him dead, and so by the end of the day he is.

It's strange, though. For the first time in years Akechi feels something besides cool detachment as he he carries out an assassination. He ends up standing over the Director's Shadow much longer than is necessary why he tries to figure what that something is; all the while, some instinct telling him to not go through with the assassination. But ultimately he doesn't think that's an option. He's evaded detection during the Kobayakawa and Okumura incidents, but if the Director somehow survives then there won't be any hiding it anymore. It'll be the end for him and Akira.

So he pulls the trigger, and it's not until he's on the train to his next destination that he finally realizes what the 'something' from earlier was: disappointment. He hasn't even agreed to help Akira yet but it feels like he's letting him down.

He'd been planning on going by Shido's Palace to do some research of his own but he's suddenly more exhausted then he's ever felt in his life. He changes his plans and decides to head straight home instead. Despite his exhaustion he still has the energy to feel tense as he unlocks his front door and steps inside. He doesn't bother calling out a greeting as he enters, too used to returning to an empty apartment to bother.

As he watches Akechi leave, Akira finds himself wishing that he could stop him, although this time he's not sure if it's out of concern for Akechi's safety or simply because he doesn't want him to go. He doesn't, though, and instead hangs back in the room as instructed, donning his disguise and popping a few of the painkillers he finds in the bag before he heads out a while later.

The walk to his destination is uneventful. Akira is used to keeping his head down and remaining unnoticed by now. Thankfully, the apartment building is quiet during the midday, most residents still off at work, and he's able into Akechi's before his presence sticks out to the few people he sees around.

It's... telling, in a way that makes him feel a bit sad. It looks less like the home of a high school student and more like that of a businessman who spends most of his time traveling. Akira's pretty sure he's seen more personality in furniture displays at stores.

He picks up pretty quickly on the things that Akechi has left for him—Akira takes a much-needed shower, tends his wounds, has a small bite to eat, and then opts to give himself the not-so-grand tour in Akechi's absence. There isn't a whole lot to see, especially since he refuses to go as far as rifling through Akechi's stuff (as tempting as it is), and before long, he's throwing himself down on the couch and letting the exhaustion overcome him.

Akira expected to sleep like a rock after everything that's transpired, but clearly there's some restlessness still simmering beneath the surface. Maybe it's worry about his friends. Maybe it's the unfamiliar environment. Maybe it's the various aches and pains.

Regardless of the reason, slumber comes and goes, consciousness flickering back in here and there. He tries to rest through it, right up until the click of the door shutting registers. Akira pushes himself up slightly, still groggy as he watches Akechi enter. "Welcome back."

It's not like Akechi has forgotten that he has company, but being greeted like that still catches him off guard.

"... I'm back," he responds after a pause, sounding almost as awkward as he feels. They did that backwards, didn't they? Next time he'll--

--do nothing because there probably won't be a next time. Exhaustion nearly overwhelms him, but rather than simply staggering across the room and collapsing on the bed like he wants to he forces himself to start his typical evening routine. Starting with stepping out of his shoes and neatly lining them up next to his other pairs. He needs to catch Akira up on a few things anyway.

"No one saw you coming in." Akechi made a habit of talking to his neighbors solely to keep up appearances, but now he finds himself grateful that he bothered. Shoes off, he passes through the kitchen, stops in front of closet, and start to strip out of his gloves, coat, and tie. "I don't know if you saw the news--" Akechi watches news on his phone, so he only has a radio instead of a TV on top of his bookshelf. "--but it worked. The whole world thinks you're dead right now."

He pauses, suddenly remembering that his phone is still bugged, and that the Phantom Thieves (or, most likely, just Fubata) may have overheard his conversation confirming Akira's death. It doesn't take long for the pettiest part of him to decide that it's fine. He doesn't know what their plan to rescue him was but they can deal with the uncertainty for a single day. That decided, his coat and gloves are put away and his tie gets tossed in the laundry. And... he suddenly realizes he's not sure what else to say.

"... Did you eat?" Akechi knows he needs to make dinner for himself, even though he doesn't want to, so if Akira is hungry he may as well feed them both.

How bizarre this situation is doesn't fully set in until he's awkwardly watching Akechi go about what he can only assume is his usual routine upon arriving home. After spending weeks believing that Akechi was intending to kill him, he never would've imagined that today would end with him sleeping on Akechi's couch, in his clothes. (That last bit is a fact he's trying to not think about too much.)

"I figured." He doesn't clarify whether he's responding to the part about the neighbors or the news, but it applies to both. There's no reason for anything else to be reported, not when they took Akechi's word for it without recovering a body last time. He hasn't looked at his phone much, knowing it would only tempt him to message his friends. It's better to hold off, just in case. Akira is certain they wouldn't do anything rash even if they were to believe he's dead. The Phantom Thieves have always taken the time to consider their missions and options.

Akira rubs at his eyes, careful to avoid the bruise on his cheek, and sits up the rest of the way. "When I got here." Which was hours ago, now. He's not particularly hungry right now, immediately after waking up, but it'll set in once he's shaken off the bleariness.

"I can handle the food if you want," he offers, though he's already standing up as he does so. Not only is it the least he can do, it's also something familiar. There's no missing how worn down Akechi looks, too.

That was hours ago, Akechi thinks, so without waiting for further response he starts to roll up his shirt sleeves. Akira's answer makes him pause and level a skeptical look at him, though. Akechi might be tired, but Akira went through hell for a solid twelve hours and has only had about five to sleep all of it off.

"I don't have ingredients for curry." It's a joke, though he doesn't really sound like he's joking. It's also entirely true; he doesn't have ingredients to make much of anything. Aside from a few frozen options that are easy to microwave and eat minutes before bed (which is a pretty common routine for him) he really only has eggs, tofu, and rice on hand.

On the other hand, Akira wouldn't have offered if he wasn't feeling up for it, and Akechi really doesn't want to do it himself. So he steps aside to let Akira pass, though he finishes rolling up his sleeves. Though if Akira is going to handle dinner...

"I'll shower in the meantime, unless you think you'll need help."

"Don't underestimate me, Goro Akechi," Akira shoots back, though the humor in it is much more obvious. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."

That's a grave exaggeration. Coffee and curry are his trump cards; everything else is just basic cooking knowledge and a few things that he's learned how to make passably because he likes them. But he rooted around Akechi's kitchen a bit earlier and has seen the sad reality that he likely doesn't have many freshly cooked meals outside of restaurants. Just about anything Akira can make would be an improvement over probably another convenience store dinner.

Akira glances back as he steps towards the kitchen. "Go ahead. I've got this." He may be fatigued and sore, but having something to focus on already feels nice. As much as he appreciates sleep, Akira isn't really suited for lying around without purpose.

And so he finds his here. Akechi barely even has the staples of a pantry, which leaves his options slim. In the end, he settles on omurice—something a little more show-offy than regular fried rice. He's made it a couple of times, back before ever coming to Tokyo. That feels like ages ago now, but his cooking skills have only improved since then, so he's hoping that'll make up for any lapses in memory.

The end result is definitely not going down as the best omurice in history. It's lacking in more than a few ingredients, although Akira did the best he could with the ones he had and whatever spices he could dig out of Akechi's cabinets, and the overall technique isn't bad. Repurposing some vegetables from the convenience store meals does occur to him along the way, but Akira isn't trying to be wasteful in someone else's kitchen. This will have to do.

The comment finally drags a faint smile out of Akechi. Right then. If Akira is announcing it like that then he must be confident in his skills. Or he's bullshitting. Either way, Akechi doesn't protest. He just gives Akira a nod, retrieves a pair of pajamas for himself, and retreats to the bathroom.

It's not until he's actually washing himself off that it really clicks that he's taking a shower while the person who should be his sworn enemy makes dinner in his kitchen. All of which is the result of prematurely betraying someone he was planning to betray anyway in order to save the life of said should-be enemy and potentially ruining his own plans in the process. The weight of everything that's happened and the knowledge that he now has no idea what's going to happen up is enough to make Akechi slump against the wall. He ends up getting lost in thought for a while and dragging his shower out longer than he normally would.

He still doesn't take long, though, and by the time he's done he both looks and feels less exhausted. He's still tired, but not the sort of tired that makes him want to pass out on the spot. He shuts off the water right before Akira is done, and by the time he's dried off, gotten dressed, combed his hair, and stepped out of the bathroom dinner is ready.

... He didn't realize he had the ingredients for omurice, either. Instead of commenting on that, though, something else occurs to him.

"I don't have a table." ... Obviously. Akira can see that on his own. Akechi shakes his head. "We'll have to eat on the couch, I mean." Akechi usually eats at his desk, but he also only has one chair. It's probably obvious he never has company, isn't it? "... And thanks."

I noticed, he bites back, not wanting to seem like he's judging. Everything about Akechi's living space speaks to the fact that he doesn't have deep relationships with anyone. It's just barely outfitted to accommodate himself in the most perfunctory manner, much less entertain guests. "That's fine." He's already gotten familiar with the couch. It's certainly more comfortable than the who-knows-how-old one in his bedroom.

"Don't thank me until you've tasted it," Akira jokes lightly as he passes Akechi a plate and takes the other towards the couch. He's pretty sure it's decent, just... a bit sparse on the variety of the ingredients.

Without cooking to distract him, it's back to feeling off-kilter with the reality he's currently in: sitting down on Akechi's couch to eat dinner with him, while the rest of his friends might currently be grieving him after his supposed death at Akechi's hands. Akira sends out a mental apology as he sets the plate in his lap.

Akechi's couch is pretty comfortable. He buys only the finest mid-range perfectly utilitarian furniture. Akechi follows after Akira without another word, though he does pause long enough to grab two water bottles out of his refrigerator. One is offered to Akira, and the other is kept for himself.

He takes a seat next to Akira, the awkward thoughts from the shower creeping back up on him. But then he takes a bite of his food and those thoughts scatter. Akechi has stumbled across all sorts of new, trendy takes on classic recipes in his time, but between his own exhaustion, the missing ingredients, and the circumstances surrounding its creation this is, without a doubt, the weirdest omurice he's ever eaten in his life. He actually laughs about it, the sound somewhere between a chuckle and a giggle. He gets it back under control in a hurry, but there's no hiding the laugh, nor the faint smile he wears in its wake.

"It's not bad." He wants to make that clear, too. It might be the weirdest in his life, but right now it also tastes like the best in his life. "But it's definitely strange." And then he takes another bite.

By now, hunger has indeed hit him full force. Akira digs right in and is pleased to find that it is as well-cooked as he hoped, just weird in its composition. He's mid-chew, somewhat thoughtful, when the sudden laugh almost startles him into swallowing abruptly. It came from Akechi, he realizes a second later, once he peers over to find a small smile on his face.

All of a sudden, the oddness of the situation is eclipsed by something else. Sitting here in the quiet, enjoying a strange but much-needed home-cooked meal with Akechi, still looking slightly damp from his shower and wearing a smile not too far off from the one Akira saw in his bedroom a couple of weeks ago—he's not sure there's anywhere else he'd rather be right now.

Akira swallows and turns his own smile down towards his food. He's grateful that his face is kind of a mess right now. It probably makes the warmth he can feel in his cheeks less obvious to the eye. "I'll just take that as a compliment," he chuckles himself. "I tried to get as creative as I could with what I had."

"You did a good job." Which should be obvious, given that Akechi is still steadily chipping away at his meal. He's not nearly undignified enough to scarf it down, but he comes close. He has to force himself take a break long enough to get a drink. "I didn't think I had enough to even make this much." Leave it to Akira to take a fractured mess and make something good out of it - though at the moment, the deeper meaning of that metaphor is lost on Akechi.

Though his conversation trails off his good mood persists through the meal. Gloomy thoughts don't creep up on him again, kept at bay by the pleasant warmth that comes from simply sitting in silent but pleasant company. Not even twelve hours ago he'd been thinking that it might be time to sever his ties with Akira for good, and now he's thinking that he wouldn't mind if this moment lasted forever. He has no idea what to make of the change and he's too tired to try.

But forever isn't really an option right now. Eventually he finishes his meal (he's too hungry to try to draw it out) and a pleasantly sleepy sensation creeps up on him in its wake. He doesn't yawn, but his motions are languid and lazy as he pushes himself to his feet and offers to take Akira's dishes to the kitchen for him. Even his blinking is a bit slow and deliberate.

"I don't mind if you stay up-" Akira could host a party and he's pretty sure he'd sleep right through it. "-but I'm going to sleep." Before he does something embarrassing (and... appealing?) like pass out on Akira's shoulder. "And I'll be staying in most of tomorrow." It's something he'd decided several days ago, knowing that they'd both need to recover and that Akira might need someone nearby to make food or first aid runs for him. Now, though, he's mostly looking forward to spending a few uninterrupted hours in Akira's company.

Akira lets the silence blanket them, comfortable in Akechi's presence. There are definitely things he's curious about, mainly whether Akechi has considered his offer any further, but Akira chooses to let that subject rest. It would inevitably ruin the moment, and right now he's more concerned with writing this exact feeling into his memory. Akechi will surely approach him about it once he's made a decision, anyway.

Any remaining anxiety bleeds away over the course of their brief dinner. Akira's eyes are starting to feel heavy again as well. By the end, he's pretty sure that he'll be able to sleep for the rest of the night without all of the tossing and turning that was plaguing him earlier in the evening. Akechi's almost drowsy motions hint that he's feeling about the same. That problematic part of his brain files the image of Akechi's sleepy blinking firmly under Cute, and for once Akira doesn't try to bury the thought before he can dwell on it.

"I guess I can stay in for a while too, seeing as I'm dead and all," Akira quips, handing over his plate, a smile warming his face. Right about now, that sounds like the perfect way to spend his temporary house arrest. "Thanks again. For all of this." There's a pause before he adds, "Good night, Goro."

That's a terrible joke, but Akechi offers a faint smile in response all the same. Maybe that comment should just remind him of everything they'll need to take care of starting tomorrow, but instead he just feels a little humored.

For once the thanks doesn't catch him off guard, and his humored smile slips into something warm and affectionate.

"Good night, Akira."

He wasn't lying about going to bed, however. He only barely gets the dishes rinsed, the rest of his bedtime ritual completed, and his phone plugged in before he collapses into bed. It's a miracle he even makes it under the covers. Once he's out he sleeps like the dead, and his upstairs neighbor's cat knocking something over in the middle of the night doesn't even get a twitch out of him. If left to his own devices he could easily sleep in until noon.

Except that his fucking phone goes off well before then. He jerks awake with a startled sound, reflexively groping for her phone and giving the screen a bleary, baleful look as he realizes it's... nine o'clock.

... That's not that early, but still. He's a student. Who would call a student at this hour? He considers letting it bounce to his voice mail for that reason alone, but pushes himself upright and answers. He greets whoever's calling with his full name, somehow managing to not sound like he literally just woke up (though he certainly still looks it, given how sleeping on wet hair has given him terrible bed head). The conversation doesn't take long and ends with Akechi insisting that now isn't a good time but promising to call back later.

Part of him really just wants to flop right back over and get a few more hours of sleep, but nine is later than he usually likes to wake. So instead he glances over to Akira, checking to see if his phone call woke him before he does anything else.

Just as suspected, sleep takes a much firmer hold on him the second time around. It's deep and dreamless, exactly the type he needs the most after the roller coaster that was the previous day.

Being so suddenly awoken doesn't startle him as much as it probably should. So often, he has Morgana serving as an alarm clock, batting him in the head or walking up and down him, or even Sojiro shouting at him from the bottom of the stairs, so the chiming of the phone across the room isn't terribly jarring.

It's more of the unfamiliarity of the noise that makes his mind stir. The sound of Akechi's voice soon following is another anomaly in his morning routine, and even his drowsy brain opts to listen in to this side of the conversation, curious about who could be on the other end. There aren't nearly enough context clues for him to make a good guess, but he can only assume it's not Shido if Akechi is brushing the caller off.

Brief though it is, it's enough to push him past the point of no return. He's awake now, no question about it. Akira sits up, fingers brushing through the back of his hair in a pointless attempt to flatten his eternal bedhead. "... Everything okay?"

Is Akira trying to make his hair behave...? Akechi almost comments on how hopeless that quest is when Akira asks his question.

"Just an interview request." Definitely not Shido, in other words. There's not chance Akechi wouldn't have gone out to the balcony if he'd suddenly called. "Nothing I need to take care of today." Or even tomorrow. Most places that want to interview him are too booked up to do it right away - though he suspects he'll be getting several more calls throughout the day.

That sounds annoying, actually. He considers turning his phone off before remembering that not being able to get in touch might inspire Shido to send someone to his apartment. That sounds like a bad time for everyone involved.

"... I have a comb, if you want to borrow it." He'll just comment on Akira's fight against bedhead instead, even though Akechi can feel how strangely his is laying as well. "I think you'll need it if you want to stand a chance."

Oh. That does make sense. The news is probably still plastered with the death of the leader of the Phantom Thieves—and Akechi is the one who's credited with his arrest. No doubt they're going to be clamoring for his opinion on the supposed suicide.

The sudden offer has him looking momentarily confused. His motions had been more out of habit than a conscious effort. Once it connects for him, though, he lets out a little laugh, dropping his hand back to the couch. "Sure." It won't make that much of a difference, this much he knows, but the uncomfortable feeling of being locked up in that interrogation room for so long still lingers, and a little personal hygiene will go a long way in helping him feel more human again.

Akira swings his legs down to the floor and stands up with a lazy stretch. He hasn't bothered to check the time, but judging by the light outside the window, it's still fairly early, at least by his standards for sleeping in.

Akechi's actually also thinking about the interrogation room as he slides out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom again, though for very different reasons. It takes him a bit longer than it should to emerge (once he sees how badly his hair is sticking up there's no stopping him from wetting it, combing it back down, and rinsing the comb off again) but that just means he feels more awake by the time he does.

"I'll do a load of laundry before you head back this evening." Or more like now, so that Akira doesn't have to sit around in pajamas all day. Regardless, Akechi pointedly goes with 'you' instead of 'we' as he holds the comb out. He doubts he's going to be welcome in Leblanc, even after his ruse is revealed. "Do you need anything else for now?"

Given how perfectly put together Akechi's appearance typically is, Akira isn't surprised that he spends a while in the bathroom. He spends that time checking in on his phone finally. There are a few messages from those who have realized his identity, all of which he leaves unanswered for now, but the group chat is silent. As eerie as it is so see it so, he knows they must be talking elsewhere as long as they're unsure of whose hands his phone has landed in.

He'd glance over the news, but his battery level is looking worse for wear. Just as well, Akechi emerges soon after he has that thought, looking more like his usual self. Akira, however, has already taken a mental snapshot of Akechi's bedhead, a sight he's sure is a rarity, kind of like an endangered animal.

"Thanks," he says, to both the laundry and the comb as he accepts it. The singular in that sentence passes by without comment from Akira, mostly because he didn't quite expect Akechi to accompany him back now that he's aware of what the Phantom Thieves know. That may be something they have to work up to, and that's him thinking optimistically. "Can I charge my phone? And... I don't suppose you have an extra toothbrush, huh?"

Akechi nods at the question about the charger, pointing out where his is plugged in between the couch and the bed. As for the toothbrush...

"There's an extra in the medicine cabinet." That wasn't foresight, though. The ones he buys just conveniently come in packs of two. But he won't admit to that part.

Then again, not having to leave for a toothbrush means he has to think about another reason to depart the house for what he really wants. Fortunately, it's not hard to think of a new excuse.

"I was thinking of grabbing breakfast, too - unless you want more omurice." As good as it had been in the moment, Akechi doubts Akira is really eager to repeat last night's odd meal.

That's a relief. He'd been too tired, both physically and mentally, yesterday to bring himself to care, but Akira could really go for brushing his teeth right about now.

He's already moving to plug in his phone, shooting Akechi a look when he brings up last night's dinner. "Hey, don't make fun of my omurice. It might end up on the Leblanc menu one day." It's completely joking, though. He's pretty sure that would be one of those "over Sojiro's dead body" situations.

Phone hooked up, Akira straightens with a real response this time. "You can just get me whatever you're having." Akechi is probably well aware by now that he's not picky.

( for fabrications )

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