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fabrications )
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...
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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"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?"
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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?"
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"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.
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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.
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"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.
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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."
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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.
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"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.
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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.
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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?"
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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.
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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."
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That's the only thought that runs through Akechi's head as he flicks his gaze to the side, taking in the commanding expression that Akira - Joker - has leveled at him. Akechi had expected him to see through the lie, but not straight through to the truth of the matter, not straight to Akechi's plan to go to Shido's Palace the moment Akechi left his apartment.
He really, truly is the most incredible person Akechi has ever met, and that familiar mix of admiration and jealousy starts to well up in him again.
His expression doesn't reflect that, however. He smiles, the expression puzzled and amused. It's entirely fake, and he catches himself assuming that Akira will surely see through that, as well.
"I'm already quite familiar with his Palace." It has been one of the first places he'd visited, once he had a good grasp of his powers. In fact... "I could draw you a map, if you like."
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That fake smile makes something unpleasant well up inside of him, frustration and sadness and anger all balled up into one nauseating combo, and Akira isn't able to keep all of it off of his face. "I know it already." I had to listen to you die there.
That part, he doesn't say. Instead, Akira's gaze slips away from Akechi, down to his half-eaten meal, throat tight and appetite dashed. He can't bring himself to look, not when he's starting to feel like he's adrift with no chance of rescue. Maybe there really hadn't been enough time to make a difference in Akechi's life. Maybe Akira messed up along the way. Maybe he just hasn't done enough. He knows the potential is there, he's seen it multiple times now—so he can't help feeling like this is due to his own shortcomings.
"Killing him won't make you feel any better, if that's what you're planning to do," he says, softer now.
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Akira isn't the only one who's lost his appetite, but at least Akechi is already mostly finished. He starts to rise so he can put away his leftovers, overly casual like this isn't one of the most tense conversations in his life. It lets him pretend that he doesn't see that chaotic swirl of emotions in Akira's eyes.
He can't pretend he's suddenly gone deaf, however. He pauses once he's upright, shoulders tensing. The real motive behind Akira's words is lost on him; he doesn't think of his own potential death, just that it's so like Akira to want even someone as awful as Shido to live long enough to face justice.
"That wasn't my plan." It isn't a lie, and the calm tone isn't something he has to force. He wants Shido to suffer, to go through even a fraction of the despair he caused Akechi and his mother. He can't do that when he's dead.
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"It's all the same in the end, whether you kill him or tear him down and humiliate him. He'll still be a terrible person until the end, and it won't erase what he did to you," he continues, voice still low and level.
Maybe Akira is overstepping a boundary, but he really doesn't care anymore. This isn't even completely about saving Akechi's life anymore. There's no way whatever he's planning isn't a mistake—one he won't be able to take back once it's done, supposing he gets that far.
"What are you going to have left after?" Because Akira's not sure he'll be there. As much as he feels like this is his own failing, this is also Akechi drawing a line in the sand, a clear definition of where his priorities lie. He wonders if things might cross to a point where they can't be repaired after.
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Akechi can't be completely sure of what Akira means with his next statement, no matter how well he feels he's gotten to know him. But what it sounds like is, If you do this, I won't be here when you get back. And that's-- terrifying. He has his fame and his grades and his sunny career prospects and suddenly that all sounds so pointless and hollow. If he and Akira go their separate ways then all he'll have left is--
"Nothing." No one that needs him, and certainly no one that wants him. "But that's all I had when I started." So he tells himself that's enough, and tries to ignore how fast his heart is pounding and how unsteady his breathing has become.
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"That's not all you have right now," he's pointing out as he sets his plate aside and stands up, body moving on its own. Part of him just feels like he needs to be on Akechi's level right now. "You don't have to do everything alone. It's okay to rely on other people."
There's a slight edge to his otherwise stable tone, and after a moment Akira connects it to the cold desperation in his chest.
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That thought makes something else click into place, two previously disconnected pieces of information abruptly snapping together to form a complete picture.
"You said Shido had me killed once before." That doesn't feel as weird to say as it should. He drops his gaze as he speaks, suddenly wishing he'd set his plate aside earlier. He feels dumb standing here holding it. "Is that related to the other time I 'sacrificed my safety' for you?" Even just saying that feels dumb, too. Asking that question now is the same as admitting that he finds something like that possible.
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"… Yeah." Thinking about that day is difficult enough. Akira doesn't even know where to begin talking about it, but he feels like there might be some explanation owed here. "You tried to stop us in Shido's Palace. When you couldn't, he sent his cognitive version of you to finish you off." And it probably would've turned on the Phantom Thieves after, if not for Akechi's actions.
It's good to warn Akechi about it, anyway. As much as Akira doesn't want him to charge in there alone to fulfill whatever awful plan he has for Shido, the thought of Akechi running into that puppet version of himself while doing so, having no idea what's in store, is even worse.
"You trapped yourself with it so that we couldn't risk ourselves helping you." Even then, Akechi couldn't bring himself to take a chance on them. He was hoping something had changed.
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Akechi takes an abrupt step forward, only going far enough to finally set his plate down on the bookshelf. He'll get it to the kitchen later. Right now he can't bother, not when he's stuck contemplating how much sense everything Akira's just revealed makes. Trying to stop the Phantom Thieves from proceeding, being taken out by a puppet version of himself, even the part where he was apparently willing to die to protect them. He doesn't know if he would have believed it all a month ago, but he does right now.
"I killed the SIU Director." The words are out before Akechi has a chance to think about them. He's not sure if he's trying to confess (he doubts it, because he doesn't feel guilty) or if he's trying to drive Akrira to leave (he doubts it, because the thought makes him miserable). "Wakaba Isshiki, too. I was supposed to kill Kunikazu Okumura, Shujin's principal... anyone who got in Shido's way." His tone is mild and steady, neither of which are traits he has to force. Being a murderer stopped bothering him a while ago. "So it makes sense that he'd use 'me' to get rid of me."
And still, still, he doesn't know what he wants to do. His mind immediately veers towards the thought that now that he knows about 'Akechi', it'll make slinking through Shido's Palace even easier, only for him to remember the implicit threat in Akira's earlier question.
Then again, learning that Akechi killed Futaba's mother might be news enough to make Akira step away for good. So maybe it doesn't matter.
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"I know. You did kill them last time." Surely that won't come as a shock. But the next part...
He's never been a particularly touchy person, but Akira finds himself reaching for Akechi's wrist for the second time in the past 24 hours. This time is just as impulsive, but his fingers ligher, more tentative, as he tries to coax Akechi to face him fully. "That didn't stop us from wanting to help you. Futaba and Haru knew, and they still wanted you to come with us." Akira can't even say it was his own idea—they'd been the ones encouraging Akechi.
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He lets himself be tugged on, turning to face Akira again. He doesn't try to hide how conflicted he feels right now; weariness, unease, and disbelief are all evident in his expression. There's no way that can't be a lie, but there's no chance that Akira is lying.
"You're all completely beyond my comprehension." He doesn't understand how they could do that, not when they supposedly knew the things he's capable of, the dozens of lives he's already ruined or ended. There has to be a line somewhere, some point where his behavior would cross into unforgivable territory.
He wants to leave it at that, but he can't. Akechi speaks again before he can even try to stop himself.
"I can't stand you at all." The sentiment is no less heartfelt than the time it had driven him into an incoherent rage in Shido's Palace, but this time his voice is soft. He doesn't try to step back from Akira, nor break his grasp on his wrist. "I've spent years perfecting my grades, my record, my public image - whatever it took to make sure someone needed me." So much for that, it seems. "So how did you show up with nothing but a criminal record and end up with so much more...?"
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"It's just an image. Grades and reputation don't make a person," he responds, opting not to actually answer the question posed. Sometimes the fact that he's become surrounded by meaningful relationships feels like a fluke, or like it only happened because he was picked for who-knows-what reasons to receive these powers. Akira never had friends like this before coming to Tokyo.
"The reason I want you around isn't any of that. It's you as a person." Something Akechi seems determined to hide from the world in favor of showing only what he thinks people want to see. "I wouldn't like you any less if your grades were bad or if the public decided they didn't like you anymore."
Now that he can look Akechi in the eye, he doesn't need to maintain the hold on him. The thrum of Akechi's pulse under his fingertips is comforting, though, so Akira allows it to linger.
It's ironic, isn't it? All the while Akechi is lamenting the difference in what they have, the thing Akira wants most is right in front of him, so close and yet so unobtainable. He would laugh, but it's really not funny.
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And it's nice. It's nice to be reassured that a bad grade or a dip in popularity won't be enough to drive Akira off. It's nice to believe it, too, to not have that cynical voice in the back of his head immediately telling him that Akira's words are cheap and meaningless. He wonders what it would be like to go back to not having this anymore and realizes he has no idea.
Akechi's heart had still been racing when Akira first grabbed him, but it's slowed considerably over the past few moments and is almost back to a normal pace now. He doesn't go as far as taking a step closer, but he does shift his weight enough that Akira's hold on his wrist isn't so awkward.
"I can't promise I won't go to Shido's Palace." He may as well start with that. That's one thing that's not going to change no matter what. "There's something I need to confirm there. But--" He hesitates for a moment, feeling that this is a mistake, before he forces himself to continue. "--I can promise that's all I'l do for today." Nothing but research. If he can give the Phantom Thieves three weeks to work uninterrupted, he can give Akira a single day to know he's not going to commit another murder.
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