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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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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."

Akira is incredible.

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."

It had been a long shot, anyway. Would he even have believed it if Akechi had promised him?

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.

Right, of course. Akira's stupid time travel or whatever he's claiming happened to him would let him know all about Shido's Palace, wouldn't it?

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.

He doesn't have to look up to know that Akechi is trying to leave the scene. The shift of the couch beside him is enough.

"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.

'What he did to you'. Does that mean Akira knows that Shido is his father? Or is he just assuming that it's something like what Akira went through, some pain or trauma inflicted on him out of spite? Akechi doesn't ask. He's already decided it doesn't matter.

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.

His heart aches at the answer. Is taking Shido down on his own terms so important that he's willing to throw aside everything to achieve it? Akira can't imagine being so hell-bent on revenge, but it sounds incredibly lonely.

"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.

Akechi's first impulse is to just scream at Akira, to tell him to go ahead and leave if he's going to dangle it over his head like that - but a crushing wave of relief that Akira isn't leaving totally overwhelms that impulse. Akechi lets out a slow sigh. He still has no idea what he really wants, even after what feels like a straight twenty four hours of debating the issue. He hates it. He hates how easily Akira muddies the waters like this. He hates how readily he's willing to consider throwing away everything just because giving up might make Akira stay.

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.

This time, Akira doesn't let himself count the small sense of acquiescence from Akechi as a victory. His frame is still tense, indicative of the debate no doubt raging inside of his head even now.

"… 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.

Huh.

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.

Absent though it may be from his features, Akira is surprised by the sudden confession. It's less the contents (he knew already, even the SIU Director, as much as he wanted to believe otherwise) and more that Akechi is putting this out there now. Sometimes he can follow the line of Akechi's thinking as if it were a tangible thing right in front of him; other times, Akira can't make heads or tails of it. This falls squarely into the latter category.

"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.

Akira seems so calm to learn that Akechi has killed so many people, people important to people that are important to Akira. Akechi wonders if he was so calm the 'first' time that came up. Considering it makes him a bit uneasy, so he doens't ask.

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...?"

The statement should sting. Akira has seen enough of Akechi's rage to know that it's rooted in truth, but he also knows that it doesn't encompass the full depth of Akechi's feelings towards him. Even last time, when Morgana pointed out that he didn't hate Akira, there was no denial. So he lets it rest and focuses on the second part instead.

"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.

'Complicated' is the best way to describe Akechi's feelings towards Akira. He's pretty sure he could explain it for hours and still not really get the point across. Maybe that's why he's having such a hard time deciding what to do next. How can he decide the correct course of action for the most pivotal moment of his life when he can't even sort out how he feels about one person?

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.

Edited 2019-03-21 04:18 (UTC)

The slight movement is his cue to let go, arm tucking back against his side. Most people would probably be embarrassed after speaking such honest, borderline cheesy words, but Akira seems unfazed. If anything, he's a bit content with the fact that Akechi doesn't try to argue against any of it.

He's not quite sure how he feels about what follows. It's more than expected and yet somehow still not enough. One day is a poor compromise when the need to send a calling card draws out the process beyond that time frame, but getting even that much out of Akechi feels like he's moved a mountain. The exertion is definitely there in his mind, leaving him feeling emotionally wrung out as the last bits of tension bleed from the conversation. There's a renewed sense of determination flickering to life in its wake, however, as Akira starts trying to plan how to most efficiently use the time he's been given.

"Alright." And then he's turning to grab his plate off the couch, glancing over at Akechi before he heads for the kitchen. "I'm going to head out once my clothes are done," Akira announces, tone neutral once again. Earlier than originally planned, but he needs to stop by the clinic before returning to Leblanc. With a little bit of wheedling, Takemi might be able to offer him something that'll get him back in fighting shape.

And just like that, it's settled. They're still at an impasse, Akechi knows, but he also knows that this as far as they can get without another argument kicking up. For that reason alone, he's not shocked when Akira announces his intent to leave earlier than planned. He's not happy about it - leaving closer to evening would give Akechi more room to work, not to mention lower the risk of Akira being seen and give them some extra time together - but he doesn't try to fight it.

"They'll be done soon." For the first time in his life, he regrets having gotten a combined washer-dryer. Akira would have been here for much longer if he had to wait for his clothes to line dry.

Akechi follows Akira's lead, picking up the leftover food and carrying it to the kitchen to save what can be eaten later (which is most of what's left) and toss out the rest. He's quiet for a long while, thinking about the things he hasn't told Akira yet, wondering how much of them he already knows from 'last time' and how much of it is worth repeating now. He wants to do something to help, he realizes, but it's hard when Akira apparently already has all the answers.

There's one thing that occurs to him, but... allowing that is pretty risky. It's not like he expects Akira to abuse it, but there's something almost too intimate about it, like having a tense, emotional debate with a guy wearing his pajamas about the nature of their friendship.

"You can keep the apartment key." When he thinks about it like that it's actually an easy decision to make, though it's not until the food is put away and they're back in the 'bedroom' that he speaks up. "I can't guess if Leblanc might become unsafe again, but if it does there's enough students here that no one will look twice." And he might be dead soon, apparently. It'll be nice to know that someone he actually likes will be in charge of throwing away all his stuff.

Akechi is just full of surprises today, isn't he? Akira can only stare for a moment following the offer. "Hopefully I won't need it, but... I appreciate it," he says after a beat. Another unexpected show of trust, and yet Akechi can't trust him where it matters most. Akira wishes he could take some solace in knowing that this will be over soon, but it's hard to when he has no idea what Akechi is planning, where things are going to go.

"And—your phone," he adds, just as abruptly as he remembers it himself. "If you ever come by, I can get Futaba to remove the bug." It had really just been there for the purpose of making sure Akechi couldn't kill him, and at this point, it's virtually useless. Now that Akechi knows that it's there (a fact he doesn't regret sharing, still), they can't truly rely on the veracity of any information that would come from it. "She might be able to do it remotely, though." It wouldn't surprise him one bit if she could.

The beep of the laundry finishing cuts through his thoughts. That's his cue. Akira heads over to collect his clothes, and it isn't until he's pulling his uniform out of the machine that it occurs to him that walking around in an outfit that clearly marks him as a Shujin student, especially while school is still in session and he probably looks like he got into a pretty bad fight, might not be the brightest idea. He bites back a sigh at the thought of having to ask Akechi for even more, turning around once he's collected and folded up each piece.

"Do you have something else I can wear?" He doesn't bother to explain, knowing that Akechi will draw the same conclusion once it's pointed out.

Akechi himself doesn't realize it, but that sort of contradiction is typical of him. He not only doesn't mind when other people rely on him, he actively likes it. It's his trust in on other people that's been damaged, even when one of those 'other people' is Akira.

The offer to remove Futaba's bug takes him off guard, but he's quick to nod. Now he has a spare phone, he guesses, but it just makes him feel worse for being sneaky. That's not a reaction he's used to having, but he at least resolves to examine it again later rather than ignore it entirely.

The thought that Akira will probably need a different outfit occurs to Akechi a second before Akira asks; as predicted, he doesn't need an explanation. He does need a few moments to pick out something that's warm enough, not also a school uniform, and not obviously his, though he can't quite place why that last part is so important. He eventually emerges with a pair of dark brown slacks and a charcoal and navy plaid coat. It'll still probably look like Akira's wearing Akechi's clothes to anyone who knows both of them, but at least it'll make him unrecognizable.

He hands them over without a fuss, though despite the somber circumstances that hang over them he can't stop himself from making a mild joke.

"I don't mind if they come back smelling like coffee, but cat hair might be a bit much." Though now he's suddenly wondering if Morgana is the type to spitefully throw up on them. Probably not, right?

That Akechi still has it in him to make dumb jokes gets a smile out of Akira and even a bit of banter in return. "I can't promise anything, but I'll at least buy a lint roller." And then he's disappearing into the bathroom to change.

The clothes are not his usual fare—which is a good thing, in this case. The less he seems like himself as he heads back to Leblanc, the better. He debates leaving the glasses off since they probably have him pegged as needing them, but ultimately Akira slides them on, letting the frames hide part of the bruise on his cheek.

Disguise complete, Akira steps back out, and all that's left to do is slip his phone and the apartment key into the pockets of the coat, gather up his uniform, and leave. Still, he lingers on the last step. Once he leaves, Akechi is going to go to the Metaverse. There's a voice in the back of his head telling him not to let it happen, but… what can he do? He can't keep Akechi under constant supervision. The only option is to try to finish out the job before he can complete whatever inevitably bad idea he's formed.

"Thanks for everything," Akira speaks up once he's nearing the door. The finality of it is unintentional, making him wince internally. "If…" The thought trails off as he thinks better of it, shaking his head slightly. "Just watch yourself in there." He lets himself out without expecting a reply.

As expected, he gets no more looks than usual on the way back to Yongen-Jaya, but Doctor Takemi has a thoroughly unimpressed one just for him when she looks up to see him entering the clinic. She doesn't ask any questions as she checks him over, a fact for which he's grateful. Akira can see from her expression that she certainly has some. He nods obediently at her orders to take it easy for a few days, but Takemi doesn't seem quite convinced of his compliance as she sends him off with some of the stronger painkillers she has on hand.

On the brief walk back to Leblanc, Akira finally speaks up in the group chat, both confirming his safety and requesting a meeting in the same virtual breath. The response is immediate and explosive, but he saves the explanations for once they're finally crowded into the interior of the café later. And when he explains, he explains everything.

Well, almost everything. Many of the less relevant, more personal, details about Akechi, their friendship, and the stay at his apartment are skipped over. (He makes sure to change out of Akechi's clothes before they arrive, because that would surely raise some questions he isn't ready to answer.) But otherwise, Akira leaves nothing unsaid. For many of the things that he and Akechi talked about to make sense, he has to start all the way at the beginning. The actual beginning, the first time he came to Tokyo, and everything that transpired up until the parallel version of now, continuing into his memories of events that haven't yet happened, their deaths included. The reactions are, once again, immediate and explosive, but that's not really a surprise, considering the insane claims Akira has just dropped on them. No one ever doubts him, though, and that means the world.

Not only that—Akira knows that his friends are amazing, but even he is a little bit floored by how easily they decide that Akechi is still deserving of their help. After everything he's just detailed about Shido, there's a definite sense of indignant determination in the air. Even Futaba, who seems shell-shocked by finally learning the identity of her mother's murderer, speaks up in favor of rushing the Palace.

And rush they do. There aren't even any complaints about the suddenness of the mission as they head out to the Diet building. This process is much quicker now that Akira doesn't have to pretend like he doesn't already know all of the keywords, so as they hover in their usual way near the fence, try to be inconspicuous and failing miserably in a way that only a gaggle of teenagers can, he pulls out his phone and starts entering them.

That the finality of Akira's statement may be unintentional isn't lost on Akechi, so it's not enough to drive his expression from neutral to glum. He doesn't try to respond verbally, however, only giving Akira a nod as he lets the moment linger.

Then Akira is gone and the moment passes. Akechi gets to work.

Not that he has to do much to prepare. He's already wearing the appropriate clothing, so all he has to do is gather up his 'weapons' (for some reason, it feels more appropriate to bring the silly toys he uses as Crow, rather than the tools he's more familiar with) and head out the door, though he waits until he's certain Akira has a several minute lead on him first. He can afford that much.

Not much more than that, though. Despite the terrible condition he's in, Akechi doesn't doubt that Akira will try to enter the Palace as soon as he's able. He can't imagine that the other Phantom Thieves will protest. If his luck is very, very bad, he suspects he has a little as an hour. He knows the Thieves well by now, however. Akira will need to stop for help first (Akechi may not have met Takemi, but Akira is getting his strange medicine from somewhere), and then the rest of them will probably need five or ten minutes to fawn over him and make sure he's okay - assuming they're all able to leave school immediately, which he doubts. Akira will need time to explain what happened, too, so Akechi puts his realistic estimate at a few hours. That should be plenty of time.

And it is. Akechi's already very familiar with Shido's Palace, and being viewed as an ally (or maybe an asset) gives him immediate access to areas the Phantom Thieves would have to struggle to reach. He's never gone roaming too extensively because he tells himself he doesn't need to, but the truth is that being in here is a deeply unsettling experience for him. He already knows what sort of person his father is; he doesn't need the gaudy, unsubtle metaphor shoved in his face.

But now he's filled with doubt. Apparently this place is supposed to be his grave, courtesy of 'himself', and that knowledge has been relentlessly chipping away at the foundation of his confidence all night. His plan can't work unless he's necessary to Shido's ambitions, someone completely vital to his cause. He knows it's true, but what about Shido?

The answer is simple - yes versus no - but it isn't presented to him like that. He has to dig deep into Sihdo's Palace, piecing together the truth from the scattered bits of information he's able to glean here and there. And with each new piece that falls into place he feels more uneasy, more angry, more despairing all at once. Once he's scoured the place from top to bottom and he finds himself back where he started simply sets off again. He'll look over everything once more, make sure he has all the information, that he hasn't missed anything--

He's not sure what makes everything click into place. The fact that Shido has never had any specific plans on who to target once he's Prime Minister? The strange Shadow-Cognition hybrids of people that Shido actually knows? That a Cognitive version of himself is present but not the first line of defense in a world that should be his forte? Whatever the cause, the final piece clicks into place and the answer as to whether or not Akechi is valuable to Shido clarifies into a sharp, resounding no.

There's a lot of things he could or should be feeling in that moment. Despair, regret, guilt, shame, and the impossibly tangled bundle of emotions that comes with realizing that Akira has been right this whole time... but all he feels is white hot rage. Two years of smiling in that man's presence, of killing whoever he was asked to, of playing at the obedient follower... all of it has been for absolutely nothing. His uncertainty in regards to what to do vanishes in a flash. To hell with what Akira wants him to do. To hell with everything he's planned so far. To hell with what's right. To hell with the Phantom Thieves, with justice, with all the stupid petty ideals he's clung to both in earnest and as a ruse. All that matters now is that he's going to kill Masayoshi Shido.

And then he's being shot at.

Correction, he's being shot. Wounds in the Metaverse might not linger the way real ones do, but they're unbelievably painful all the same and gunshot wounds are a very unique pain. He realizes that it's only a miracle that he doesn't die on the spot. Only luck (or perhaps a streak of sadism in Shido's Cognitive take on him) that leaves him with an injury that's painful but not immediately fatal. And Unlike last time he's not cornered, and he's not in a position where standing his ground is the best way to protect the Phantom Thieves. So while he returns fire, he also runs. He needs to live, he thinks, but he also needs to warn them, and for some reason reaching Akira feels especially vital.

Akira and his gaggle of friends are painfully conspicuous on the best of days when they're huddled together, but today they get to enjoy the rare treat of not being the most bizarre sight in town. Right as Akira prepares to enter the Metaverse, Akechi comes tearing out it it, breathing hard, clutching his side, and not paying the slightest bit of attention to his surroundings. The bullet wound is immediately less pressing once he's in the real world, but suddenly being in the real world takes the edge off his fight-or-flight response. He staggers, drops to his knees, and then falls forward with such finality that he only barely catches himself with his free hand before he literally eats dirt. He's pale and shaking and breathing hard, but he actually looks fine aside from that; the blood hasn't had time to start soaking through his coat's lining yet.

It's occurred to him that they might run into Akechi inside, that they might even have to fight him if trying to talk to him goes south. As unpalatable as the thought is, Akira is about as prepared for it as he can be. He's already warned the other Thieves about the true extent of Akechi's strength and his unique power. History (Akira's anyway) dictates that they should be able to win, and if previous events repeat, surely there's something they can do to prevent the need for a last-minute heroic sacrifice.

So while he's expecting that they might see Akechi, outside the Diet building, still in reality, is not where he's anticipating that to happen. They're mere seconds away from crossing into the Metaverse when the group's attention is redirected to the sudden burst of movement nearby.

"—Akechi-kun?!" someone exclaims as the figure tears out of nowhere and stumbles almost to the ground. He thinks it's Ann's voice, but it sounds distant, as if she's not standing right next to him. A chill rocks his body, but it's not enough to freeze him in place. Akira's feet are moving before he can fully register what's happening, and soon he's crouched in front of Akechi, hands hovering near his shoulders, not quite touching as he tries to assess the situation.

He looks shaken, more so than he's ever seen Akechi, but otherwise unscathed. Akira's pulse, which quickened to a hammering rhythm at some point, starts to slow again. "Are you all right?" Yusuke asks from somewhere above him. His perspective, narrowed to a pinpoint on Akechi, expands now, and he realizes that they've all crowded around his form, concern and confusion from his sudden appearance plain on their faces.

Just as Akira had realized he might run into Akechi, just not here, Akechi had realized he might run into the Phantom Thieves, just not here. He's aware of someone calling his name and moving towards him well before he realizes who it is. Blind self preservation drives him to his feet... or drive him to try to get to his feet. The reality is that he only gets one foot underneath him before he a wave of pain makes him sway dangerously. So he holds off on that course of action.

It's just as well. It slows him down enough to be surrounded, which is right around the time that the familiarity registers. He recognizing those voices (and Ryuji's shoes) which immediately sets off a complicated swirl of emotions inside of him, and it only gets worse when he looks up and finds himself face to face with Akira. Something like relief washes over him, sudden and intense enough to make him feel dizzy. It may not be obvious in his expression, however; he mostly just looks pained, exhausted, and confused.

"You were right." It feels absolutely imperative that he says that part first, before anyone gets a chance to say 'I told you so', though even he realizes how unlikely it is that anyone will. He doesn't answer the question as to weather or not he's fine, but it should be obvious now; his voice is strained and raspy, and he hasn't moved his hand away from his side. "The second I tried to do anything but look around, that thing showed up." He doesn't clarify which 'thing'; he's sure Akira and the others can figure it out. Akechi just needs to be sure they know it's there before they walk right into it.

That cold feeling makes its return in a rush as Akechi explains, Akira's eyes only just then landing on the hand clutched to his side. Fear. He places it after a second, and when he does, it's ebbed away by something more potent—anger. At himself for allowing this to happen, at Akechi for not listening to him, but mostly at Shido for causing this and knowing that he wouldn't care one bit. In that moment, there's nothing he wants more than to raze the entire Palace, destroying everything that gets in his way, Shido included.

But he knows he can't act on that, not ever, and not especially when Akechi is still on the ground in front of him. Their group had already been attracting the attention of the security guard outside the entrance. The sudden commotion must've been enough to get him to walk over because Akira can hear an unfamiliar voice addressing them, followed by Makoto's making up some smooth lie about their friend tripping. Well, that'll buy them a small amount of time to get moving.

Akira quickly shrugs off the bag containing Morgana and passes it to Futaba. "Come on," he urges quietly, taking hold of the arm that isn't holding his side to try to loop it around his own shoulders. Akechi doesn't quite seem fit to get onto his feet, but they don't really have any other option right now. "We can't stay here." Not when Akechi is so recognizable, and not when they have no idea of the extent of his injury.

( for fabrications )

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