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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 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.

"I'm guessing you've tried." Surely Akechi would test something like that after seeing it.

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?"

"I have." The second he realized that Akira could do it he'd tried it himself, only to discover that subduing a Shadow without flat out destroying it is harder than it looks. Taking care to cover his bitterness with humor, he adds, "But I don't have your talent for befriending anyone I come across." Especially not something that was just trying its hardest to kill him. He's pretty sure Akira could talk a rock into befriending him.

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.

Something about the way Akechi mechanically brushes off the compliment gives him pause. Does he not agree? Akira may not approve of the way Akechi chose to develop his powers, but he can at least acknowledge how amazing of a feat it is to have done so alone.

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."

"It is." The agreement comes to Akechi easily, but his tone has gained that vague quality that creeps in whenever he's starting to get lost in thought. It's strange to realize how much he's come to enjoy the company of and rely on not just Akira, but all of the Phantom Thieves - and stranger still to realize how much more he's able to enjoy Akira's company and rely on Akira's help. Even a month ago he wouldn't have believed he could be in this situation, but now...

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.

It's a good question, one that makes Akira realize that there is one thing he's forgotten to divulge. "I'm not really sure. Morgana said last time that what we're planning to do might cut off the entire Metaverse."

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?

Even knowing what Akechi knows about Akira's misadventures as Joker and his history before coming to Tokyo, 'live a normal life' is the exact sort of answer he expects from him when the Metaverse isn't an option. No matter how flashy the Phantom Thieves are, seizing glory isn't really Akira's thing. Seizing glory is Akechi's thing, but the process of getting there looks an awful lot like 'live a normal life'.

"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.

Envy isn't an emotion that plagues Akira all that often, but he can't help but be a little jealous of how clearly Akechi is able to define his future. Even before coming to Tokyo, he didn't have any solid goals, no strong passions to chase after high school. Going to university was the plan, although mostly because it seemed like the appropriate thing to do: get an education and start a career like a good son would. It's probably sad to feel like he's peaked in high school, but…

Well, it's as Akechi says. There's no telling what will happen once they finish up their last job as the Phantom Thieves. He's still got another year of high school as well. Maybe something will strike him as suddenly as everything here started. "We'll see, once it's all said and done."

Hearing him talk about his goals does make Akira curious, though. "… Have you always wanted to be a detective?"

The question is an obvious one to ask, but Akechi feels totally unprepared to answer it. He does anyway, though.

"Not always. It was just a means to an end, at first." Admitting this is embarrassing, even to someone like Akira. "I only worked towards becoming a detective to get close to Shido. I didn't actually start enjoying it until recently." His selfish motivations have never bothered him before, but suddenly laying out how immediately he'd jumped into exploiting the Metaverse for his own sake feels strange, too. Like he's finally admitting he never had a chance of measuring up against Akira, and that his recent sincere investment in his work isn't enough to close the gap.

It's not a terribly surprising answer. Akira recalls the inside of Akechi's apartment, almost barren of the personal touches that come with investing in interests and passions. Him setting off on a career path solely for the sake of pursuing one goal isn't an unbelievable leap.

To hear that he's started to feel differently, however, is more intriguing. Akira wonders how he felt about it when he asked for help on the case with Kawanabe.

"It'll be good if you get to keep doing it once we're done with Shido. It suits you." Much of his success may be fabricated, but there's no denying that Akechi has the brains and instincts for that sort of thing.

It's such a simple, obvious thing to say that Akechi wants to dismiss it as a mere platitude - but like so many things, it's different when it's coming from Akira. Akechi actually believes him, and it brings a grateful, almost relieved smile to his face.

"I'd like that - and it would be a shame to let my experience go to waste."

He's intending to leave it at that 'joke', but this conversation makes something else click into place. They'd discussed this once before, and Akechi had repeated his offer when they did - but at the time Akira either already believed that Akechi was about to betray him or (less likely, but still possible) would discover it shortly after. That makes Akechi think it's worth bringing it up again.

"I'm repeating myself, but I do still mean what I said after you helped me with the Kawanabe case." His expression is more serious now, though it's at least only solemn instead of concerned. "I'm in need of a trustworthy partner in the future. I know it's not a 'normal life', but I can't imagine a better candidate than you."

Akira may be bold, but not enough to assume that the months-old offer were still on the table. Not when so much has changed in the past few days alone.

So a mild sort of surprise blinks across his features, barely there, before he ducks his head slightly with a chuckle. "I think just about anything would feel normal after everything we've been through."

And another sudden realization, although this one isn't too shocking: Next to the idea of just staying and working at Leblanc, it's probably the most he's felt his heart tug towards such a suggestion. Funny—both of those were Akechi's ideas. Perhaps he's got a better idea of what Akira wants to do than Akira himself.

"You know, I think I'd like that," he continues, the warmth lingering in his tone as he pictures it. Helping people through the Metaverse may soon be off the table, but this would be another way to work towards righting the wrongs of society. And with Akechi at his side... "We make a good team."

The offer is one that not even Akechi thought he would have extended a few days ago. The frustration, the betrayal, the hatred, the anger, all of them with clear origins but no obvious direction, had been boiling just under the surface back then. But, again, nearly dying had picked up the mental filing cabinet labeled 'priorities' and dumped it all over the floor, leaving Akechi to put everything back and ending up with an order that's different, but somehow better.

Hearing Akira agree to it despite everything - the things Akechi has done, the things he's said, the thoughts he's allowed to slip in heated moments - sends a spark of excited joy rushing through him, and it might be the most unfamiliar emotion he's felt in months. For once he doesn't get caught up in analyzing it or trying to box it up and set it aside. He just lets it happen, enjoying the warm feeling it sends washing over him and not even trying to stop the uncharacteristically sunny smile it inspires.

"I couldn't agree more." Like a switch being flipped, he suddenly no longer wants to return to his apartment. He wants to stay here, relaxing in Akira's presence on this rundown couch in his strange bedroom. The most childish part of him insists that 'forever' would be a good amount of time to stick around, but realistically he knows that even just a few hours would be alright. He has no idea how to address it, though, so he sidesteps it in favor of another not-quite-joke. "And it'll be nice to have an excuse to keep patronizing Leblanc."

The brightness of Akechi's expression catches him off guard, unhampered at the edges like his usual restrained, polite smile. Knowing that, in this moment, it's just for him is enough to make Akira's heart do somersaults in his chest. It's kind of criminal that he doesn't get to smile like this all of the time. Akira is struck by the urge to drive away whatever worries and fears and anger usually bury this spark of light, and—geez, he's in serious trouble. Not that that's anything new for Akira, and, as per usual, the rush of it only draws him further in when it should push him away.

"You don't need an excuse to visit," he says, calling back to a much older conversation. "You're always welcome here." Even Sojiro had taken the news of Akechi's role in everything in stride. It might have surprised Akira if he weren't already aware of the soft, understanding heart hiding under the gruff exterior.

There's a pause before he adds, "Up here too. The past couple of days have been a lot of fun." Grievous wounds aside, of course. It would be nice to do this again under better circumstances, when he's not concerned for their safety and can simply enjoy Akechi's company.

It doesn't take long for the smile to diminish, fading from relentless cheer to something more subdued. His smile is still warm, though. Even his tendency to shy away from revealing his actual thoughts on something isn't enough to totally stifle the expression.

'Fun' isn't exactly the word Akechi would have used to describe the past few days, but once Akira says it he can't help but feel like it fits. It has been fun, when he's been conscious and not idly wondering if he's still at risk of dying.

"Perhaps we can attempt a repeat in a less stressful situation." If it's managed to be fun now, he can only imagine how much they'll enjoy it without the threat of death or discovery hanging over their heads. "Though I'll have to insist that you stay in your own bed next time."

Akechi idly reflects that it would be nice if they could both take the bed, but that's an urge he sharply reins in on. He's only recently started to realize that there's a non-platonic cherry on top of the complicated sundae of emotions he feels for Akira. There may never be a good time to voice thoughts like that out loud, so right now is definitely too early.

To think, he went from having no idea how to go about befriending Akechi other than blindly throwing himself into it, all the way to discussing future sleepovers with him. That thought alone makes him laugh a little, though it can also apply to the comment about the bed.

"Nope," he denies easily, shaking his head. Akechi in his bed is a dangerous concept, one he's entertained before, though a gunshot wound isn't quite the scenario his imagination cooked up. Still, Akira is both a good host and incredibly stubborn, so he's not just going to give in on this one. At least not without a fight.

And he's always open to a little friendly competition with Akechi. "We'll have to put it to a chess game when the time comes. Loser takes the bed."

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