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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

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.

That threat... isn't one that Akechi buys for a second, and his thoughts are clear from the skeptical expression he shoots Akira. Soujiro would die first, and then his ghost would haunt the cafe if Akira tried anyway.

"I'll believe that when I see it." Some sort of curry omurice, though... That might actually be delicious, which is an unusual thought coming from Akechi, who doens't usually worry about how his food tastes (unreasonably spicy takoyaki aside). He keeps the idea to himself, though. He'd rather not have any of his suggestions lead to a possible haunting.

Being left to handle breakfast on his own works out, though. Akechi lingers in the apartment long enough to make his bed, start the laundry, and change into real clothes, and then he's out the door. The very first thing he does is call in a takeout order to a cafe he's visited a few times, ordering a bit more than he normally would for two people. He suspects Akira is likely to be hungry.

But instead of going right there he first stops by an electronics store, where he purchases a new phone and transfers his number and contacts from the old one to the new one - though paranoia drives him to do the latter manually. He'd heard from a computer forensics specialist once that any device infected by malware would have vulnerabilities until it was wiped clean. That would probably be enough to get Futaba's bug off his phone, but even his limited familiarity with her skills makes him worry that she could find a workaround.

For that reason alone he considers selling his old phone back to the store, but at the last second he buys a prepaid SIM card for it instead. If Futaba decides to keep tracking him he'd like a chance to misdirect her instead of leading her to a dead end.

That leaves him a pretty tight window to grab breakfast and get back without it seeming suspicious, but he's pretty sure he manages it - and if Akira asks he can just say that it was busier than expected. Which suddenly strikes him as weird. If he's thinking about siding with Akira, shouldn't he be willing to be more honest to him? Admit that he'd been trying to get the bug off his phone, and that he'd killed the SIU Director, and that he's planning to go investigate Shido's Palace the second he thinks Akira won't be able to interfere?

This isn't really what he wanted to dwell on right now. Akechi sets the thoughts aside as he climbs the stairs to this apartment; by the time he pushes open the apartment door and calls out, "I'm back," he sounds perfectly calm and composed once again.

Akira goes through the motions of brushing his teeth, combing his hair (it really doesn't make a noticeable difference), and tending again to the various injuries left behind from yesterday. By the time he's done, he doesn't feel too far off from his usual self, really. Even the strangeness of being a guest in Akechi's apartment has worn off.

Which, speaking of, is otherwise empty once he emerges from the bathroom. He looks around a bit more—still not stooping to the level of real snooping, only flipping through some of the books and magazines Akechi has left out—before settling down to check the news on his phone now that it has some juice.

It's much of what he expects, including sensationalized news of his suicide, speculation on the future of the remaining Phantom Thieves, and even some reporters lauding Akechi as a hero. Tucked amongst all of that, something catches his eye: a much less flashy headline announcing the death of the Special Investigations Unit's director. For a moment, Akira forgets to breathe.

It can't be a coincidence. The director of the department in charge of the Phantom Thieves case, suffering a supposed heart attack right after all of this? It smacks of loose ends being tied up. He flashes back to the hours Akechi was out yesterday. Unbidden, his mind supplies the image of him sneaking through an unknown Palace, but Akira quickly admonishes himself. There's no proof that it was Akechi's work. If they can declare him dead without a body, surely they can murder someone through normal means and then report it as a heart attack. And if it was him, what else could he have done? Disobeying Shido would get him killed, and going off the grid is impossible for a minor celebrity, plus it would only draw attention back to Akira himself.

—What is he doing? Akechi may not be a threat to himself, that much he's confident in, but he's still a danger to others as long as he's working for Shido. He knew that, and he let Akechi leave the Metaverse alone yesterday anyway. And instead of questioning where he'd been, Akira spent the evening indulging his hopeless attraction to Akechi. Even worse, now he's trying to justify it.

He knows Akechi has issues, rightfully so, but Akira is starting to think that he might be a little bit fucked up too, except he doesn't have the troubled childhood to cause it.

The thoughts circle in his head, frustration mounting. There's the impulse to head right to Shido's Palace and tear through it, but it would be suicide to try that alone and injured. He thinks about leaving for Leblanc to call a team meeting. The idea of Akechi coming back to an empty apartment keeps him there, however, rooted by his traitorous feelings.

Eventually Akechi does indeed return, some point after he's lost track of time. Akira forces all of his emotions under a blanket of his usual neutrality, setting his phone aside. "Welcome back."

Even when snooping there isn't too much to find. He hasn't tucked any photos or secret plans away in any of his books, just a variety of placeholders with more mundane notes on them, like which restaurants seem worth checking out and which passages of his mystery novels seem relevant to discovering the culprit. There's also, of all things, what looks like a portable dart board under his bed.

But Akechi had left those there knowing that there was no easy way to hide them short of throwing them out, so he's not troubled by the possibility that Akira may have stumbled across them. Which is probably foolish, but every time he tries to make himself fuss something (he doesn't quite recognize it as guilt) makes him feel like he should trust Akira this much, if he's going to keep half a dozen other important things a secret.

He's also untroubled by Akira's neutral expression, in part because he's distracted by how pleasantly odd is it to be greeted upon returning home but mostly because that's normal for Akira. Difficulty reading him is part of what drew Akechi towards him in the first place. In contrast, Akechi's default is more of a 'faint smile', though today his expression is a little more relaxed.

"It's mostly western food." He offers the explanation and the carry out bag at the same time. "But all of it should reheat well." Since he doesn't want to leave again for lunch and suspects Akira might appreciate having something to snack on later.

Despite everything going through his mind, so much of it about Akechi, the sight of him still lifts his spirits. Akira feels himself surrender to that feeling. It's better than he wait out the morning here than act on any half-baked, reckless ideas—and that includes antagonizing Akechi over his previous thoughts. He can get the ball rolling on an infiltration plan as soon as he gets back to Leblanc later. Everyone should be off of school by then, anyway.

"Thanks," he replies as he accepts the bag. Now that he's not allowing himself to fret so freely, Akira realizes that he's rather hungry. He could probably beat his current Big Bang Burger Challenge record right about now, if only that wouldn't be the least attractive thing he could do in front of Akechi. Even without knowing exactly what they are, the contents of the bag smell great, so he decides to get right into breakfast on Akechi's couch-cum-dining-table.

Akechi takes his share of the food (he actually didn't get pancakes this time) and takes his seat next to Akira. He's much more sedate about eating now than he was last night.

But unlike last night he isn't exactly content to just enjoy his meal in silence. Or rather, he is content to do that, but not for very long. Much as he wants to while the day away he knows that their time is limited and that there's things each of them need to do. So he eats enough to take the edge off his hunger, and then he speaks.

"Shido doesn't know who the other Phantom Thieves are." Akechi had dodged around revealing their identities and convinced Shido they were helpless without Akira anyway - though he actually believes the latter himself. "And I don't think he'll spare the resources to watch Leblanc now that you're 'out of the picture'." He shares the information a bit abruptly, but he thinks it's important enough to not wait - and important enough that he probably should have brought it up last night, but... whatever.

Akira is just as happy to eat in silence, though he doesn't mind the information that Akechi shares once he does speak up. It's stuff that he sort of figured after last time, but having it confirmed doesn't hurt.

Chewing slowly, he weighs his reply. The last thing he wants is to make the rest of his stay here as awkward as those first few minutes together, if not more, but there are also things he needs to know.

"We're going to start planning our infiltration once I'm back at Leblanc later," he speaks up after a pause in which he swallows. Yesterday's memory of the fire in Akechi's eyes at the mention of this subject is still clear, but Akira charges forward nonetheless. "Have you thought any more about joining?"

Fortunately (for Akechi and only Akechi) Akira's question doesn't come as a surprise. He's had time to consider Akira's offer the day before, the bizarre claims he made, and the insistence that Akechi had died once before. He'd already guessed that the offer would come again soon, so he already has an answer prepared.

Or rather, he has a lie prepared.

"It wouldn't be possible." He won't be surprised if Akira realizes it's a lie, but that's fine so long as he doesn't realize what Akechi is actually planning. "Unannounced disappearances would draw too much attention at this stage, especially long ones." He expects Shido to take it poorly the first time he calls and Akechi doesn't answer.

There's no way that isn't a lie. Akechi isn't just the smartest person he knows; he's also the most resourceful. If he wanted to come up with a plan to assist the Phantom Thieves while also pretending to serve Shido, he could do it.

Which means that he's up to something.

Akira could argue here. He could offer different possibilities—rushing the Palace in a couple of days, having Akechi only tag along after the calling card is sent—but he knows the outcome will be the same. Only his stubbornness can rival Akira's own, and coupled with the lack of trust… It's likely that Akechi is set on whatever plan he's forming, and nothing will change his mind. He shuts his eyes as if resigning himself to that fact.

Still, there's one thing he has to try to get from him. When Akira opens his eyes again, it's to level Akechi with the serious, commanding sort of look that he saves for when he's looking out from behind Joker's mask.

"… Promise me you won't go into Shido's Palace." It's not even out of concern that Akechi will impede their progress like last time or even try to beat them to the punch. Akira doesn't want a similar fate to befall him, with no one around to help. Hell, he'd even take fighting Akechi again if it means being able to be there at that crucial moment, having the chance to stop the same series of events from happening. "I need you to promise me and mean it."

( for fabrications )

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