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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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"You're cooperative when it suits you." It would be a cutting comment in another tone, but right now Akechi just sounds amused - and somewhat endeared, though he's trying to rein in on that reaction. It's hardly appropriate.

And speaking of inappropriate, Akechi starts to lift a hand, intent on reaching out to grab a strand of Akira's hair and slide it between his fingers. He catches himself before his hand moves more than a few inches, though. He forces it back down and himself to straighten back up.

"Besides, it's hardly rude to simply make an observation."

"Mm, I'll give you that one," he responds once Akechi amends his statement. "Guilty as charged." The pun is entirely intended.

The seconds seem to dilate the longer he peers up at Akechi, each one amping up the fizzle of electricity right underneath his skin. For a moment, Akira considers reaching out for him and doing—something, anything, to satisfy this sudden need. He's so close, it would be so easy to just…

But before his dumb impulses can get too out of hand, Akechi is putting some space between them. Akira's perspective widens again, and he has the self-awareness to be a bit embarrassed by his own thoughts. They were talking about Shido hardly a couple of minutes ago. Now that's hardly appropriate.

Even the faint warmth rising to his cheeks doesn't cause Akira's smile to falter. He scoots over a bit to fully vacate the other side of the couch in case Akechi wants to take it. "Maybe, but sometimes it's more polite to say nothing, you know." Not that that's a philosophy Akira puts into practice all the time—once again, only when it suits him.

Akechi catches the color rising in Akira's cheeks, and while he's filed away the image under 'cute' before he realizes it, he also has no idea what the cause is. Maybe he's not used to being called out so plainly.

Akechi wasn't intending to join him when he first approached, but now that the couch has been vacated he doesn't hesitate to take a seat next to him, leaving a comfortable but not impersonal gap between the two of them. It feels relaxing and natural, just like being in Akira's presence.

"That's something else you only do when it suits you." And at other times, it feels like sharing his thoughts is the thing that Akira only does when it suits him. Akechi still isn't sure what the 'default' is. "Besides, it's hard to keep my thoughts to myself around you." The ones he lets himself think about, at least. There's a few he's still refusing to acknowledge.

This is the easy sort of interaction he's come to appreciate over the past couple of days. Sitting here with Akechi, talking about nothing in particular… Is this what it'll be like after Shido is dealt with, after Yaldabaoth is defeated, after the Metaverse becomes nothing more than a memory? He doesn't want to get ahead of himself (although they really can't fail this time, it's simply not an option), but it's crossed his mind a few times. While he's felt like he'd sorely miss the presence of Arsene, of Joker, Akira thinks it wouldn't be so bad this is what's waiting for him on the other side.

"I don't mind it," he confesses, then adds, "Even if it means sometimes receiving unflattering comments about my personality." A jab at the earlier exchange. His tone drifts away from humor again as he continues. "Sometimes it's hard to tell what you're thinking on my own." This seems to be one of those times where sharing his own thoughts suits Akira.

Akechi's had a decent amount of time to get used to thinking of his future as something that includes Akira. It's been in the back of his mind ever since he asked him for help on a case months ago. Even so, he hasn't had time to think about what's next now that the situation has changed so much. He's not even sure if there'll be a 'next' anymore; the possibility of being prosecuted for his crimes once everything is said and done isn't lost on him.

"You shouldn't take it as unflattering." Akechi's tone has already drifted away from humor, though he doesn't quite sound somber. "When it's you, being uncooperative is a positive trait." Though when it comes to Akira reading Akechi... well, being a bit of a mystery suits him just fine, but he slides Akira a skeptical thought anyway. "That's hard to believe. Sometimes I think you must be a mindreader."

And then sometimes he thinks Akechi is making a sincere effort to murder him. He's not about to bring that up, however.

"Really? Then I'll try to be more uncooperative for you." Which he doesn't really mean; it's more than he enjoys poking fun at Akechi in moments like these. Although maybe that's him being uncooperative? Akira contemplates it for a moment before circling back to the other comment.

At this one, he shakes his head. "It's probably just… you know, knowing as much as I do."

Even though he's tried to play dumb, there's no way he could perfectly maintain that charade for months. It was only a matter of time until Akira gave off the impression of being more insightful than he really is. And he's usually pretty sharp, but having come into the relationship this time with a decent understanding of Akechi, he can see where he might give off the impression of being a psychic. "I'd rather not be a mind reader, anyway."

"I'm looking forward to that." Akechi actually does mean that. He enjoys having Akira as a friend, but he makes for an enjoyable opponent and rival as well. As for his strangely accurate insight being a matter of experience: "Perhaps." Akechi doesn't entirely believe that, though. Some of it for sure, but there have been a few moments that Akechi suspects Akira wasn't able to 'cheat' with.

When it comes to his thoughts on mind reading, though, Akechi doesn't doubt him for a second.

"I'd like it." Being able to immediately know what someone's thinking without having to sneak into the Metaverse and shake their Shadow down for information? That sounds incredible. "But I'm sure you'd prefer something like invisibility."

Of course Akechi would like it. It would certainly have its uses, Akira can acknowledge that, but he's experienced firsthand the downsides of having information one has no real right to know. Doesn't help that he's also not the type to care what other people think about him, so it wouldn't be especially helpful in that aspect either.

Akechi's suggestion is much more his speed. "An invisible thief?" There's a mischievous flash in Akira's eye as he considers it. It sure would make infiltration a bit easier—and that's not counting all of the applications outside of the Metaverse. "Sounds like the perfect choice for me."

The same thought occurs to Akechi. He's realized that Akira doesn't especially worry what other people think about him, while Akechi has always been very keenly concerned with the opinions of others.

"I can only imagine the trouble you'd get into." Probably even more than he does now, though thinking about it that way nudges Akechi's thoughts in a different direction. "Then again, you're not the sort of person to abuse something like that, either." Even when he did get a strange, supernatural power he only used it to try to right the wrongs that society couldn't correct on its own.

"Of course, I'd never use my superpowers for evil." There's a humorous lilt to it, but it's true. Akira has already come across far too many people abusing their power at the expense of others; the world doesn't need another.

"But it wouldn't hurt to use it to sleep in an extra hour on Sundays without being told anything. Or for pranking Ryuji," he adds with a grin. Nothing evil about that.

That's probably not meant to be a jab at Akechi, but it certainly feels like one. It doesn't bother him, however; a combination of forcing himself to be indifferent and convincing himself his actions are benefiting society is how he's dealt with them so far. It's easy to sidestep any discomfort.

"I don't think you need invisibility to pull one over on him." Even their brief time together has lead Akechi to believe that Ryuji can be weirdly pliant. "Then again, I suppose trying it on anyone else could be dangerous." Makoto in particular.

The observation draws an amused noise. "Probably not, no." He's even gotten Ryuji to fall for the old 'reach around and tap the other shoulder' trick before. Invisibility is so not necessary.

"Depends on who it is." Akechi's mind may have gone to Makoto, but Akira would never even consider it. He values his life, thank you very much. Instead, he regards Akechi himself with a tilt of his head. "Pretty sure you wouldn't fall for it even if I was invisible."

See, even Akira agrees. It's probably rude to drag Ryuji when he isn't even here to put up a token defense for himself, though. Akechi doesn't feel bad about it, but now that his opinion on Ryuji has started to skew towards 'tentatively fond' he realizes it's a bit mean.

As for the matter of being pranked, Akechi looks thoughtful. It's not like he disagrees, but...

"It depends on when you did it." Not just in terms of the time of day, but... "Now I would realize right away, but before my Persona was awakened I didn't believe in the supernatural at all."

Somehow, this information comes with zero shock value. "Goro Akechi, a rationalist? Color me surprised," Akira says, sounding decidedly not and looking more entertained than anything.

"I didn't believe in it before, either…" Not in things like magic or alternate dimensions or weird rooms that he's pulled into in his dreams or pseudo-god creatures. He's not sure he even really accepted the idea of fate until being pulled back through time, like he was being told to do things the right way this time. "But it's surprisingly easy to accept it when you're thrown into it like we were."

The mention of Akechi's awakening does pique his curiosity, and he doubles back to that thought after a moment. There's still a lot that he doesn't know about Akechi's time in the Metaverse, so many things that were left unexplained. "Was Loki your first Persona?"

Akira thinks it's no surprise that Akechi didn't take stock in the supernatural, but Akechi's not sure if the news that Akira didn't either surprises him or not.

It does surprise him to hear Akira say the name Loki, however, and the surprise is plain on his face. He's only recently considered how to bring up the existence of a Persona aside from Robin Hood, so thinking about how Akira could have learned about Loki 'last time'...

Well, it probably wasn't pretty.

"He was." But if Akira knows not only about Loki's existence, but also his name then there's no point in lying about it now. "Actually, I didn't even learn about Robin Hood until after I'd met you." He'd always assumed Loki was it, though now that he's seen Akira negotiate with Shadows he's wondering if that might not have always been an option for him.

Akira chooses not to comment on the surprise that paints Akechi's face. He must already have a pretty good idea of how things went in order for Akira to be aware of Loki's existence.

"Really?" Unlike before, this is legitimately surprising news. He'd always wondered if Akechi could recruit Personas the same way he could, or if Robin Hood is something innately part of him the same way Loki is. It would make sense if the latter were the case—complicated Akechi, shrouded in duality, both the chaotic trickster and the shining knight—and the phrasing leads him to believe it is. "So Robin Hood just… awakened one day?"

Akechi manages to keep his expression under control this time, but Akira's surprise is a surprise for him in turn. Does that mean that Arsene is the only one of Akira's Persona that he didn't recruit?

"That's right, though not the same way as Loki." Akechi got to do the mask thing the first time, too, though since he's not sure if that holds true for the Phantom Thieves he doesn't bring that up. "As soon as I thought that I would need a Persona besides Loki I realized Robin Hood was there, but I can't say if that was the moment he manifested or if he'd simply escaped my notice before then." It's possible, especially when Loki had so perfectly suited his needs right from the start, but he's not sure how likely it is. "I take it that means that yours were all recruited, instead?"

The surprise has faded from Akechi's expression, leaving a look of keen interest in its place. There's so much he doesn't understand about the Metaverse even now and the stark contrast between he and Akira's methods is fascinating.

"Huh…" It's intriguing. From how it was staged, Akira always assumed that he and Akechi were on relatively equal footing. And they may be, but now he's starting to think there's more to it. That even though their positions seem to mirror each other, their circumstances are quite different.

The question returns a nod, though Akira quickly pauses. "Well—not all recruited," he corrects himself, contemplative. This is yet another curious thought. If Akechi can't negotiate Personas into his possession, he probably can't fuse them. And if he can't fuse them, does he have access to that place? "Some of them, I… made. Kind of."

And that's surely going to raise a fresh round of questions, so Akira moves right into elaborating, a process that starts with confirming one thing: "Do you know about the Velvet Room?"

'A fresh round of questions' is right. Akechi's mind is flooded with them the instant he understands what Akira is saying. He's assuming that Robin Hood had been a product of his needs at the time, but he wouldn't go so far as to say he 'made' him. He gets as far as opening his mouth before Akira... doesn't explain, but asks a question that's likely leading into doing so.

"I don't." It kind of sounds like a seedy nightclub, and he's sure that if he really thinks about it he's probably stumbled across a place with a similar name in the past. He doubts it's as straight forward as that, however. "What is it?"

If he'd asked that question even a week earlier, he might've doubted Akechi's denial. Now that Akira knows he doesn't have any reason to lie, however, he takes it at face value.

"It's a place that I think only I can visit. Sometimes I get pulled there while I'm asleep, but there are places where I can visit it normally. I'm the only one who can see the door," he starts, and it sounds normal enough to start, maybe? At least believable by the standards of what they usually deal with in the Metaverse.

"Inside, it's like… a prison, and there are these twin girls and a man with a big nose who's actually Yaldabaoth in disguise." He doesn't think fake-Igor is aware that he knows, and Akira has been happy to keep it that way. No telling what provoking him early would do. "Anyway, when I'm in there, I can combine Personas to make new ones."

The explanation starts off both normal and believable enough. It doesn't sound that different from the Metaverse aside from perhaps being one layer deeper. Even the fact that it looks like (or maybe actually is?) a prison isn't that weird.

The twin girls and the big-nosed man that's actually some sort of manipulative god in disguise are both a little harder to swallow, though, and Akechi's brows go up in response to the revelation. That's... probably not a lie, but it sure is weird as fuck.

It's also given him so many questions. He forces himself to start with a simple one, however.

"How does combining them work?" Even knowing that Persona aren't physical beings and that the rules surrounding them are nebulous even on good days, he has a hard time imagining how combining two different entities could produce a third, apparently completely different entity.

Akira is well aware that most of the machinations of the Metaverse are a mystery to him, but this is something he's never given that deep of a thought to until now. How does it work? He knows the process, how it appears, but it doesn't explain how sacrificing Personas can produce a new one. He's not sure even Morgana would know if he were to explain it, and he doesn't have to see Wakaba Isshiki's research to know that it has nothing on the subject.

"They put the Personas in a guillotine, and after... A new one forms." Wow. Akira's never realized how desensitized he's become to that process. Now that he's talking through it, it dawns on him for the first time in a while exactly how grim it is. "I'm not really sure why it works like that."

On one hand, Akechi wants to be frustrated that Akira doesn't seem to know much about what sounds like a pretty important process.

On the other hand, he's not at all surprised that Akira could witness two supernatural manifestations of his inner self get beheaded in pairs to form a new supernatural manifestation of his inner self and just... take it in stride. Akechi supposes that there aren't many genuinely strange things compared to a talking cat.

"That's more violent than I expected." And having the answer doesn't tell him much. Time to move on. "What about the others you mentioned - the girls and the strange man. What's their role?"

"They handle the fusions since I'm locked in a cell." For now, anyway. "Sometimes they tell me to fuse specific Personas to test me. But mostly they just yell at me," Akira remarks, though his voice had taken on a fond edge. It's much easier to take all of the fussing in stride now that he knows they're being manipulated just as much as he originally was.

The warm note is absent as he continues. "The man just says cryptic things that don't help me at all." He supposes fake-Igor has given him some useful perks, but given that he's had the entire thing rigged against him, does it really count?

Akira does offer a vaguely apologetic look after. "Sorry, I wish I knew more about it." He's sure Akechi is curious and, in true Akechi fashion, eager to understand the information being given—probably pick it apart to see if any of it can be applied to himself too, if Akira had to guess. Too bad so many things surrounding the Velvet Room are shrouded in mystery. It does feel good to actually talk about it for once, though. "I thought that since you could use more than one Persona too, maybe..."

The fond note in Joker's tone isn't missed, which only leaves Akechi wondering exactly what sort of relationship he and these two sassy executioners have. He's sure it's strange and complicated, just like so many of his other friendships. The news that Yaldabaoth isn't any help doesn't come as a shock, nor does Akira's cooler tone as he explains this. There's a lot Akechi doesn't know about the god in question, but what little he does know hasn't left a great impression on him.

Akechi shakes his head at the apology. He is curious, and while he can fault Akira for not digging deeper he can't fault him for not having more information. It sounds obscure and mysterious, maybe even more so than the simple nature of Mementos and the Metaverse as a whole.

"It sounds like there's a few differences between our experiences." Even outside of the time they've spent in the Metaverse and their purpose for being there. Like: "I've never talked a Shadow into joining me, either." Initially for a lack of trying, and more recently because his negotiations never manage to get very far.

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