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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...
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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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."
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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."
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"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.
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"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.
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"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.
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"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."
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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."
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"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?"
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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.
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"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?"
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"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.
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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?"
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"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?"
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"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."
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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.
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"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."
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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?"
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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..."
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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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His expression turns a little pensive then. He's thought about it sometimes, why he can hold multiple Personas when no one else can. Akira once wondered if maybe it's that his sense of identity isn't as strong as everyone else's——always different things to different people. Now he thinks it might just be another part of his 'fate,' another tool to use to his advantage in the game.
It's not until he's revealing all of this and learning about Akechi in turn that he realizes exactly how much help he's received throughout his journey. Morgana, the Velvet Room, his teammates and all of the other bonds he's formed. If he'd been just dropped into this, alone and with no explanation, Akira can't imagine that he would've come out as proficient and capable as Akechi.
"It must've been tough," he speaks up, thoughtful. "All this time I thought you must've gotten some help, too. But you figured it all out on your own, didn't you?"
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Akira's next comment inspires a strange blend of emotions in Akechi. On one hand it's nice to be praised, especially by someone that he regards with the complicated mix of admiration and resentful jealousy that Akira has earned. On the other hand, it's hard to think of his actions as being especially praiseworthy. The latter is an especially difficult thought to examine; he's always been so proud of how he's managed his power, but now he's less certain.
"I didn't have any other option." So he plays it off, sounding calm and bordering on blase. It's not totally dissimilar to the tone he uses when politely accepting compliments on talk shows. He sounds more serious and contemplative with his very next words, however. "I'm used to it, but... I've enjoyed exploring the Palaces and Mementos with all of you as well."
Akechi still can't swallow the idea of admitting that he prefers working teammates to flying solo. Saying that both methods have their merits, though... that's something he can manage.
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But he doesn't press it. The following comment sounds more genuine, and that brings a smile to Akira's face.
"It's been fun," he agrees. Even the first time around, despite the circumstances of their cooperation, fighting alongside Akechi felt natural. Akira is glad that they get to reprise that again, even if Shido's Palace isn't the most pleasant place for them to do so. "It's nice to know that someone has your back."
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Now it's hard to imagine going back, which is an even more disquieting thought when time travel or whatever it is that Akira went through is apparently possible. And even if it isn't...
"What happens after this?" It's been in the back of his mind for some time, but now it's all he can think about. "Once we've changed Shido's heart and confronted Yaldabaoth - what then?" He knows that Akira didn't get a chance to see past that part, that after a certain point they're equally blind as to what happens next, but surely he at least has an idea of what he wants to do.
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And as terrible as it would be to give up this way of life now when he feels like he's only just found his purpose in the grand scheme of things, it was an easy decision. Still is—maybe even more so now that he knows what Yaldabaoth has planned for humanity.
"So I guess… live a normal life," he says, and from the tone of Akira's voice it's obvious that he's not entirely sure how to go back to doing that. Instead, he shifts the question back over to Akechi. "What about you?" Has Akechi even thought about life after his grand plans to exact his revenge on Shido?
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"Complete my entrance exams, attend university, and work my way towards becoming a full fledged detective - though focusing on private investigations also has its appeal." It's something he's given a lot of thought, despite the fact that the future beyond Shido's planned downfall never quite felt real. "Though I never thought that the Metaverse might simply be gone one day." He'd seemed surprised when Akira first mentioned it, but now he sounds untroubled. It had only ever been a means to an end to him, one he was aiming to reprioritize as a last resort after his reputation was firmly established.
But even if it does stick around it's not like he'll have much use for it. Now that his plan of dangling his necessity over Shido's head has been abandoned (when did he get so comfortable with that decision?) he likely only would have used the Metaverse to continue working with the Phantom Thieves (and when did he get so comfortable with that decision?). Assuming he's able to do anything at all after this is done, of course.
"That was the idea, at least. Who knows what'll happen after we steal Shido's heart?" If Shido confesses, and if his confession sees the light of day, then plenty of other people are going down with him - Akechi included. It should be an extremely alarming thought, but Akechi finds it hard to get worked up about it. Maybe nearly dying messed up (or corrected) his priorities.
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