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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

"We're going to get you to one." Akira doesn't clarify which as he shoulders Akechi's weight around the nearest corner. Bringing him to the latter would surely be the best thing for his health, but there's no way that Goro Akechi's admittance to a hospital wouldn't get out. And as much as he knows about Shido, the true extent of his connections is still a mystery, but it wouldn't be surprising if news like that got back to him.

No, they need somewhere small and trustworthy and—well, Akira knows just the place, but she'll surely have choice words upon seeing him a second time in one day and treating her clinic like an emergency room to boot.

They pause briefly to parse their options. Luckily, this is the kind of district where people are far too concerned with themselves to give some teenagers more than a passing look, so they don't have to deal with any interruptions. A couple minutes of talking, a brief phone call, and soon enough, most of them are dispersing with promises to discuss this later. Only Akira with Akechi supported against his shoulder and Makoto remain, much less conspicuous than the previous number.

Turns out that Makoto's sister isn't too far away, and while a car ride will probably take longer than the subway due to traffic, they won't have to worry about being seen. While they wait, Akira slides his fingers, feather light, along the ones Akechi has against his side, trying to gauge the nature and severity of the wound. "How bad is it?"

Akira doesn't clarify and Akechi doesn't ask. Truthfully he wants to avoid a hospital for as long as possible. Not only would it draw attention to him, but it increases the risk of the Phantom Thieves being discovered. Akechi is surprised to catch himself thinking that he'd rather risk bleeding out than let that happen.

Akechi manages to pick up his head and look a little bit less like he's on the verge of passing out, but he's only half paying attention to the words being exchanged around him. The adrenaline wearing off might have taken the edge of his anger, but it's also making it much harder to stay alert. He ends up focusing on the traffic signal he can see further down the street to try to keep himself awake, tapping his fingers against Akira's shoulder as he tries to figure out the exact patterns and timing and what could cause any variations--

The hand over his own drags him back to reality. His fingers twitch slightly, but he withdraws his hand and reaches down so that he can pull the hem of his coat up. It might be hard for Akira to see, but Makoto can get a clear view of the blood that's soaked a dark red circle into his shirt and begun to seep into the waistband of his slacks. It's not an amount of blood anyone wants to lose, but it's also slow and seeping rather than a more severe arterial bleed.

"Pretty bad." As if that weren't obvious, but he clarifies: "But survivable." Assuming he gets help in time, which is sounds like they will. "You might want to put down a towel so that I don't ruin Sae-san's car." It's hard to tell if he's joking or not. Not even Akechi knows for sure.

The angle does indeed make it hard for him to see the extent of the damage, but Akira spots some of the deep red soaking Akechi's shirt. Blood has never bothered him, yet the sight of it right now leaves him feeling tense and unsettled, although not quite as much as the breath Makoto sucks in.

"For it to be that bad..." she murmurs, and Akira can infer the rest. Injuries from the Metaverse only manifest at a fraction of their severity in the real world. It's rare to even see blood, so for Akechi to be in this state, it's a wonder that he even got out of the Palace in the first place. He can only imagine how badly it must hurt; that Akechi is conscious enough to respond coherently just confirms that he's one of the most strong-willed people Akira knows. He even has it in him to tell a joke. Or Akira hopes it's a joke. He'd pay to reupholster Sae's car if it means getting Akechi some help.

Still, when Sae shows up, looking equal parts concerned and confused, he does take the advice. Akira yanks off his pullover and lays it over the backseat before he helps Akechi inside and crowds in behind him. He's grateful that Makoto takes up the task of offering an explanation—Akira ends up spending the ride oscillating between being wrapped up in his thoughts and closely watching Akechi to make sure he's still awake.

The ride doesn't feel as long as he expects it to. Before he knows it, he's hauling Akechi back out of the car and reassuring Makoto that he can handle the short walk remaining. If Akechi is lucid enough, he'll recognize the backstreets of Yongen-Jaya. The clinic Akira leads them is definitely not the kind of place that would typically deal with gunshot victims, and Takemi doesn't hesitate to reiterate that once they're inside the examination room and she's getting a look at Akechi's side. Even as she tells them that they should be at a hospital, though, she's preparing to administer treatment.

"It's a gunshot wound." So Makoto's assumptions are right on the mark - as is Akira's assumption that it's incredibly painful, though Akechi doesn't clarify that part out loud. He need to focus on getting in the car for now.

The ride proves to be a bit harrowing for Akechi. The less he moves the harder it is to keep himself upright, and once or twice he lists a little too hard with the turns or slouches against Akira for half a heartbeat before snapping out of it. But when he's not drifting off or forcing himself to stay upright all he has to contend with are his thoughts - and his own brain isn't a fun place to be right now. All he can focus on is how foolish, how naive, how shortsighted, how flatly wrong every decision and assumption he's made so far was. He's nowhere near being able to feel guilt over it yet, but frustration, resignation, and despair are good substitutes.

While he recognizes Yongen-Jaya, he doesn't register that they've arrived at their destination until Akira is pulling him out of the car. He still can't walk under his own power, but he can at least make it with help from Akira. Help that he accepts without protest, unlike last time. And speaking of which...

"I should have listened to you." The words are coherent but half mumbled. Akechi is barely even aware that he's speaking them, but getting them out feels imperative, like he might not get another chance. "I'm sorry."

It's the first thing he's said since explaining the nature of his injury, and it'll be the last thing he says unprompted. He makes for a good patient, at least, too pained and exhausted to be anything but compliant. The blood has soaked a larger circle into his clothes and slacks by the time Takemi takes a look at him, not to mention finally seeped through the lining of his coat to create a dark red dot on the outer layer.

But not even Akechi can care about that. The second as he doesn't have to stay awake he starts to doze off, and any degree of painkillers will make him pass right out. The injury should be be easy enough to treat, at least; there's no actual bullet to deal with and, in typical Metaverse faction, the rest of the injury looks half healed already. The bullet managed to strike just shy of rupturing anything important, though it's hard to tell if it's like that do to luck or simply via being diminished upon Akechi's return to reality.

Akechi himself is in no place to offer his thoughts on the matter, though, and it's not until several moments have passed that he even wakes up again. He has no memory of losing consciousness, so the first thing he does is glance around with a soft sound of confusion, his hazy mind jumping right to wondering where Akira went.

Once Akechi is in trustworthy hands, Akira doesn't feel so worried once he seems to drift off. Takemi seems a little taken aback by the state of Akechi's side—blood still fresh, but the wound already half-healed as if it's been there for much longer than an hour or so—but she doesn't pry, only focuses on the process of dealing with it.

There's no reason for Akira to stay in the room while she does so. Regardless, he can't bring himself to wait outside of the examination room. Even after the doctor wraps up her work and says that Akechi can rest there for a bit, he lingers, dragging over the desk chair to seat himself next to where Akechi is lying. It's as good a time as any to fire off a quick update to the rest of the group, but after that, it's just Akira and his thoughts.

All at once, he's hit by how long and intense of a day its been—the past two days, really. Was it really only this morning that he was having breakfast with Akechi in his apartment? And the day before that that he was in police custody? Those memories feels light years away. His poor decisions, on the other hand, are still fresh in his mind.

Now that some of the worry has lifted, Akira feels the exhaustion lingering underneath. He dozes for a while, head lolling occasionally as he flits in and out of consciousness. It's not until he catches the noise from beside him that Akira lets himself come to enough to see that Akechi is doing the same, and that realization wakes him right up.

"Hey…" He almost asks how he's feeling, but allows it to trail off instead. Akira's pretty certain the answer would be along the vein of terrible, even after treatment. Injuries from the Metaverse may be fleeting compared to their real life counterparts, but the pain is every bit as potent.

The greeting gets a short nod from Akechi, short steady. Well, he survived, and it looks like Akira did, too. He's not really sure where he is, but considering neither of them are handcuffed to anything they're probably both safe.

That knowledge alone is enough to make Akechi feel like being awake is totally unnecessary and that he can probably just pass out again. But he forces himself to stay awake. Both a deep seated need to understand the situation and simple curiosity gives him the energy to stay conscious - at least for a few more moments.

"What time is it...?" That's not the most pressing question has has to ask, but getting that answer might give him enough information that a few of his other questions can be skipped over.

That's a good question, actually. Akira pulls out his phone enough to peek at the display. "Nine in the evening." Which is a bit of a surprise since he didn't think he'd been nodding off for that long. He feels a sudden twinge of guilt at the knowledge that they're keeping Takemi from leaving just yet, but mostly he's just glad that Akechi seems better than before.

He does seem confused, however. Understandable—Akechi had been pretty out of it for most of the way here. Akira can recall his murmured apology with sharp clarity. He'd forgone a reply at the time, unsure of how to respond and even more so of whether Akechi would remember it.

"You're at a clinic near Leblanc," he explains further, pushing himself up straighter in the chair. Akira wants to say that they got here without being noticed, but he was honestly a bit to preoccupied to realize if they had been. So instead… "Your wound's treated. The doctor said you'll be fine with some rest."

Akechi is also surprised by the time, but in the opposite direction. He can't believe it's only nine. It feels like weeks have passed since he was woken up but an unexpected phone call this morning, but it's only been twelve hours.

As for the location, that makes sense. This must be the mystery supplier for all of the various, equally mysterious medicines he manages to produce. For some reason that information is less interesting to him than it normally might be.

"You won't have to force me to take it easy." He's pretty sure he could sleep the next twelve hours away, if allowed. Even so, he moves on to his next question, though he sounds about as tired as he feels. "I heard Niijima-san talking to a guard. Is everyone else alright?" He's thinking about Ryuji in particular. He always feels like that guy is three words away from getting arrested.

Akira doesn't doubt that. For once, he's certain that he doesn't have to worry about Akechi sneaking off to fulfill his own private agenda, not when he's so exhausted that it shows through this clearly. And yet, even when he's assured of that fact, the idea of leaving Akechi unattended still earns a sharp rejection in his mind. Akira thinks it might have nothing to do with being worried about Akechi escaping back to the Metaverse.

"Yeah, they're all fine." It strikes him as a little odd that that's where Akechi's thoughts went next, but in an entirely good way, one that lifts his spirits. Akira even offers a little smirk. "We're pretty good at giving them the slip."

Akechi knows it's going to hurt to laugh even before he huffs a soft one out, but that's not enough to stop a soft chuckle from escaping him,. He doesn't even wince that much.

"I'd noticed." What he hasn't noticed is the shift in his mindset in regards to the other Phantom Thieves, but only because he hasn't had a chance to stop and think about it. It isn't lost on him that the reactions he'd seen had been of concern instead of anger. And while there are other things he wants to address right away... "I take it resting here for much longer isn't an option...? I don't know many clinics that are open 24 hours." He should probably make sure they won't be interrupted first - and quite frankly, he'd rather be somewhere a little more familiar than this.

"We probably shouldn't." Although that's more out of wanting to be considerate than actually believing that they need to leave. He thinks that at this point, Takemi trusts him enough that she'd let them stay overnight if needed. But with Leblanc so close, that's not the case.

Without further ado, he pushes himself to his feet and slides the chair back into its rightful place. He'd ask if Akechi feels up to walking, but Akira imagines that he won't truly know the answer to that until he's upright again. "Let's head back to Leblanc. You can stay the night there."

And then... he's not sure. Getting Akechi some help has been the only thing on his mind ever since their infiltration plans were turned upside down. Akira hasn't yet stopped to consider what to do in the coming days when Akechi needs to rest. Right now, that feels like a bridge they'll cross when they get to it.

That's about what he thought. Akechi nods, not even trying to protest and insisting that he can wants to go back to his own apartment. Ten minutes of walking paired with a train transfer doesn't sound like a great time right now.

Akechi very carefully pushes himself up, though he won't reject help if Akira offers. He does alright on his own, however. His injury twinges painfully, but not to the point of being debilitating. Though once he's upright and the thin blanket Takemi provided has pooled around his waist he finally realizes that, naturally, no one had bothered to give him a shirt after bandaging him up.

"Ah... Is there something I can wear?" He's sure his shirt is a lost cause, but even if his coat looks fine on the outside he won't be surprised if they've already tossed or quarantined it for being blood-soaked on the inside - and even if they haven't, he's not sure he'll be allowed to wear it.

Oh. It takes Akechi sitting up for Akira to remember that he is indeed shirtless. The previous one had gone right into the trash, along with the coat once he'd seen the terrible state of the inside. Akira has spent enough time at the laundromat to know that stains of that caliber don't come out easily. He has his hoodie, anyway, which survived the car ride with no notable damage, seeing as Akechi's clothes soaked up most of the blood.

That gets passed over to Akechi, and once he's got it on, Akira waits near the bed to offer his shoulder, same as before. With the mood a bit lighter now that they're out of the thick of it, he doesn't feel off throwing a joke in. "I can carry you on my back if you want."

A hoodie is as good as anything else. It's appropriate for the weather, too. Akechi accepts it with a simple, "Thanks." He pauses before he pulls it on, however, sliding Akira an amused look.

"We traded." At least Akechi will have something to wear back to his apartment, eventually. He pulls on Akira's hoodie without further commentary, privately reflecting that it's... kind of nice? It's soft and comfortable, and it smells like Akira, too, though that last part might be weird to notice...?

Whatever, he's too tired to worry about it. Once the hoodie is on he slides out of bed, gathers up his things, and gladly accepts Akira's shoulder. He's doing a better job of walking by now, but he's pretty sure he's still at risk of stumbling. As for the joke, it gets an overly somber look in return.

"Don't offer yet. I might actually need that sort of help with the stairs." And that's as far as Akechi can get without a faint smile, both because he's amused and because the exchange feels surprisingly natural. It might be presumptuous to assume he's going to end up in Akira's bedroom, of course, but he's pretty sure Sojiro would have some choice, extremely loud words for Akira if he arrived to find a high school detective passed out in one of his booths.

"We did," he acknowledges, a similarly amused look on his face. Really, the sight of Akechi in his clothes punches him in the gut more than wearing Akechi's did, especially once he's learning against Akira's shoulder with a smile. He reminds himself that this is all because Akechi was shot a few hours ago, partially due to his own missteps. That's enough to derail that train of thought for right now.

Akira doesn't wait around any longer. He leads them out, pausing to thank the doctor again and bid her a good night, then they're off to Leblanc.

The interior is dim through the door when they arrive; he can only assume that Futaba informed Sojiro not to wait up for him, seeing as it slipped Akira's mind among everything else happening. He fishes out the key from his back pocket and lets them inside. Entering Leblanc's warm, spiced atmosphere is usually like being taken into a comforting embrace, but today it outright melts the remaining tension from his body. Shido may not be dealt with yet, but they both made it back here alive after one exceptionally wild day, and that feels like a victory to Akira.

As assumed, he does start to bring Akechi up to the attic—not only because Sojiro wouldn't appreciate his café being used as a hotel, but also since he thinks sleeping in an actual bed will be best for him.

Akechi also has the presence of mind to thank Takemi before they depart, but as soon as they're on the move he once again he makes for a pretty quiet walking partner. Akira doesn't have to half drag him this time, but the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other takes more focus than he would have guessed. What thoughts he has to spare are suddenly preoccupied with wondering why he didn't try to help Akira home when he was injured. Yet another thing he files away to think about later.

He can feel the tension draining from Akira as they finally step inside Leblanc, and Akechi can't help but feel the same. In many ways Leblanc is an even more comfortable place for him to be than his own apartment, so he can only imagine what it must be like for Akira himself.

He's not surprised when Akira guides him towards the stairs, but he is surprised when trying to take a step up with the leg on his injured side sends sharp pain radiating out from his injury. He sucks in a short breath through his teeth and immediately eases off of the leg in question. That's not going to happen. And while he really, really doesn't want to have to ask Akira to actually carry him...

"I suppose Sojiro-san wouldn't appreciate it if I slept downstairs, would he?" He's pretty sure he's going to have to suffer through one more humiliating moment tonight. It's just a matter of whether that humiliation is taking ten minutes climb a flight of stairs or getting some very direct assistance on the matter.

Joking though it sounded, the offer is still on the table as they get to the stairs, although Akira figures that Akechi will want to attempt it himself before considering it. Quietly, he continues to be a supporting shoulder as he tries the first step. The reaction is telling.

"Probably not. You'd feel it in the morning, too." He can't imagine sleeping in one of those booths would be at all comfortable.

Which leaves carrying him up the stairs. The idea doesn't bother Akira at all, but he knows Akechi. Needing help to this extent is probably excruciating for someone who would rather risk his own life than rely on others.

So this time, Akira makes no jokes, only crouches enough for Akechi to get on his back.

For a moment, Akechi really considers declining. Simply needing the help in the first place rankles, and Akira's silent, immediate offer to help just rankles worse. 'Excruciating' is the right word for it. Today alone Akechi has gone on a solo expedition through Shido's Palace, been shot, fled the Palace, and been dragged across two wards for medical attention, but setting aside his pride long enough to accept this sort of help might be the most difficult he's ever done.

It certainly feels like it, and there's a long hesitation before physical pain and exhaustion win out against their mental counterparts. He finally steps forward and slides his hands onto Akira's shoulders. He leans his weight onto him carefully and, once he's off the ground, slides his arms around his shoulders to make sure he won't slide off unexpectedly.

"I've had to rely on you more and more lately, haven't I?" He doesn't sound especially pleased or unhappy about it, just resigned. He'd noticed the same thing before he got to the point of needing to be carried anywhere; this just drive the fact home.

Supporting Akechi's legs without causing him more pain is a fine line to walk, and Akira's not quite sure he manages to do so, though he does his best. Once he gets him secured, he doesn't dally, heading right up the stairs with deliberate, steady steps.

Had to. The phrasing doesn't escape him. Akira already figures that all of this is out of necessity and pragmatism rather than what Akechi's wishes. Still, it means something. Before, he thinks Akechi might've chosen his fierce independence as his hill on which to die, but that doesn't quite hold true anymore. Something has changed over the past couple of months.

He's quiet until they're near the top of the stairs. "It's natural to have to rely on other people sometimes," is how he chooses to respond to the observation. Akira knows he'd never survive trying to operate like Akechi has. His friends, both his teammates and the ones who have assisted his mission in other valuable ways, are the only reason he's come as far as he has. That Akechi's accomplished all that he has on his own is impressive, as much as Akira dislikes the circumstances around it.

Once they reach the attic, Akira considers stopping right there, but—the bed is literal steps away. Akechi's pride may be hurting, but so is his side, obviously pretty badly if he accepted this in the first place. Akira continues on to cross the room, letting him down next to the bed.

Akechi lets out a slow, deliberate breath as Akira figures out how exactly to hold on to him, but he doesn't complain and doesn't tell him to stop. He can handle this much.

He also doesn't protest being carried all the way to the bed, in part because he figures there's no helping it and in part because he's distracted by Akira's response. He doesn't speak again until he's back on his own two feet. He should probably sit down but he stays standing, his gaze on Akira.

"I used to think that sort of thing was idiotic." He still does, in truth, just not quite so vehemently as before. "If I had to rely on someone else it just meant I was falling short." And that's only counting the times that he was allowed to rely on other people, the times he wasn't just brushed off as a burden. And while all he's spent in the Metaverse with the Phantom Thieves has helped him recognize his changing mindset, they aren't actually the source of said change.

Not all of them, at least.

"You're the first person that hasn't made me feel that way."

Edited 2019-03-23 19:17 (UTC)

Akechi's weight may be off his back, allowing him to straighten up again, but the gaze after somehow feels even heavier. That and the fact that Akechi is even admitting this to him makes Akira's heart thump a little faster in his chest.

"You try too hard to be perfect." The phrasing may be blunt, as is typical of Akira, but there's an earnestness to it. "You don't have to be." Akira surely doesn't expect that of him, not the way the media and public and so many others seem to, and maybe that's why Akechi feels the way he does around him. "Especially not with me."

The perfectly poised image Akechi tries to project has its appeal, but Akira has found himself more captivated by what's underneath—the dogged determination, the brief flashes of vulnerability, the budding instinct to do good that's reshaped so many of his recent actions.

There's something like tired skepticism in Akechi's expression when Akira says that he doesn't have to be perfect, but the final addition he adds to his comment draws a tired smile out of him instead.

"You're the first person that's made feel like that, too." The first person that's made him feel like slipping up and admitting to his faults and failures won't be a disaster. The first person he's thought won't use that information against him. The first person that's willing to stick with him to this extent even after everything he's done and all the mistakes he made. "I wonder what would have happened if we'd met a few years earlier."

"Who knows. I'm sure we'd still be friends, though," he replies with a faint smile of his own. Akira has wondered the same, but only after Akechi brought it up once before, in the engine room. Maybe other people would've been picked to fight this battle. Maybe none of this would've happened, and they'd be living normal lives. It's a nice thought, but he's more concerned with the present. It's been a long and winding road to this point, and there's still more ahead, but standing here with Akechi right now feels right.

Still, as much as he doesn't want to break the atmosphere, Akechi probably shouldn't stay standing much longer. "Sit down. I'll get you a change of clothes." He's still wearing those blood-soaked pants, after all. Akira doesn't have a ton of clothes, but he's able to scrounge up enough random sleepwear for both of them, passing Akechi one pair before heading towards the stairs with his own. "Want anything from downstairs?"

It's a simple, baseless reassurance that neither of them have any way of confirming, but Akechi relaxes all the same when he hears it. Even if it's just speculation, it's nice to know that Akira is so certain of the result.

Akechi is equally reluctant to let the moment pass, but for once he feels certain it won't be the last one. He sits down as ordered, accepting the pajamas with brief word of thanks. As for Akira's offer, there's no hesitation before he gives his answer.

"Water." He knows he should probably eat, too, but right now thirst is at the forefront of his mind. He can worry about actual sustenance later. For now it's taking all of his focus to even get into his borrow pajamas (they traded again, huh?), especially when he has to lay flat just to wiggle out of his pants without straining his injury. He manages, though, and he even pulls it off without getting blood on Akira's clothes or bedding. His own pants are a lost cause, but he folds them up and sets them neatly aside all the same.

It's real tempting to just lay there indefinitely (something about Akira's clothes and Akira's bed are uniquely comfortable, kind of like Akira's mere presence) but he's remembered something by the time Akira returns and pushes himself upright again.

"I don't suppose you have a toothbrush I could borrow, do you?" He won't have any option but to very attractively spit into a cup when he's done, but he'd rather not wake up with a gross feeling in his mouth tomorrow.

With the request in mind, Akira heads back down the stairs. He's not quite sure how long it'll take Akechi to change clothes with his limited mobility, so there's no real rush in his motions as he goes through his typical bedtime routine.

He's in the middle of brushing his teeth when he considers that Akechi would probably appreciate the opportunity to do the same. Luckily, he's got a spare one lying around (even knowing much of the future before it ever arrives, it doesn't hurt to be prepared), which Akira nabs on the way out of the restroom, along with everything else needed for a remote teeth-brushing session.

By the time he returns with that and the cup of water, a few minutes have passed. "Already got you covered," he answers as he approaches the bed. After leaning over Akechi to set the water on the windowsill, Akira passes over the remaining contents of his hands, throwing in a smile as part of the package. "Only the best service at Hotel Leblanc."

Rather than awkwardly stand there over Akechi and wait for him to finish, Akira opts to retrieve the dusty old futon that resides in the storage side of the attic, untouched since that one time Yusuke spent the night.

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