stealhearted | after me comes the flood;

She does resemble her mother in that way.
Be careful, with that, you're far too young to be having a mid-life crisis.

[He's likely sending messages between cleaning and breaking down instruments at the club, and brief conversations with Muhen, but he's focused on the conversation with Akira, because even if they aren't what he would call close friends, Akira is still important to him. More than he realizes.]

[He latches the case on a trumpet closed and hefts it to put it away, sitting down and taking a photo of the rack of cases-- his face is cut off in the corner, so most of what's visible is his jawline and his neck where it joins his shoulder-- bare, until the collar of a simple white t-shirt. His hair is tied into a tiny ponytail that hangs onto his collarbone. He sends it to Akira without prompting.]

Coffee tomorrow would be excellent.
I have a mock exam for college entry in the afternoon, I need all the caffeine I can get.

[ Akira stares at the photo for longer than he should. Considerably longer, all things considered. He doesn't know what his relationship with this Akechi is. He doesn't know how it's progressed.

The two of them -- without all the lies -- would Akira have told him he liked him? Would he still have liked him? Akira doesn't know the answers to any of it. Is it even still Akechi without that rawness that made Akira want to hold onto him until he could see him laid bare?

He saves the photo. ]

It's like a quarter-life crisis. Last semester blues, maybe.
Okay. I'll look forward to it.
Don't work too hard.

[Akechi isn't entirely sure of where they stood, himself. Without that rawness that Akira so covets, he's a much gentler person-- softer, from influence of his mother. He laughs more often, and the most anger he ever really displays is when people disrespect Jazz Jin or have terrible opinions. He's very much the product of the warped society of perpetually happy people, and he doesn't know to figure it strange.]

[His hair is longer, but still just as well-kept. He usually wears it pulled back when he works, but since it's January he leaves it long so it rests over his shoulders. He's in his uniform, which is no different, and he's still wearing gloves, but he carries a normal school bag instead of his briefcase. When he opens the door to the cafe, he's smiling-- and it's probably not a smile Akira has ever seen on him, prior, because it's genuine. It makes him look younger.]

Good morning. [The smile remains, and he closes his eyes as he draws in a breath.] I never will tire of how this place smells.

[ For a moment, Akira feels like there's a physical being gripping his chest so hard he can't breathe, can only feel his heart pounding so hard he worries he'll have a heart attack at 17. It's too much: the way Akechi looks with longer hair, the way he wears that smile like it's the most natural thing in the world, the way he still seems to seek out Leblanc.

Akira slowly, slowly, forces himself to breathe, an exhale he thinks could go mostly unnoticed. ]

If you make curry and coffee, you could approximate it. Maybe with less wood. [ It's small, unimportant filler conversation that allows Akira precious time to align his thoughts. He steps over to start making a cup of coffee for Akechi. His preferences there should be the same, right? Akira needs something to hold onto when he feels like he's drowning in everyone else's happiness. ]

One cup of coffee to help the studious student, coming up.

You know perfectly well I can't cook, [His smile becomes a grin and he strides into the café, claiming the same seat he always does at the bar but hooking his bag under the counter. He sits, and hooks the heels of his still-terribly-shiny shoes on the rail under his chair, and laces his gloved fingers together to rest his chin on them, watching Akira work.] Thank you~. Any exciting coffee news today?

You can get curry from a box. You just add vegetables. [ Akira is pretty sure, actually, that asking Akechi to chop vegetables is not exactly a small task, but all the same. Probably, between Akechi and his -- and his mom -- they could chop potatoes. Probably.

Akira's hands do the work of brewing coffee almost entirely on their own. His mind doesn't have to engage very far at all, so he can spend his entire mental capacity on dealing with the situation. Akira knows he's a decent actor. He doesn't know how far that extends with Akechi. ]

Nothing exciting. Boss might get a few new blends in when summer hits, though. I'll brew them for you as a summer break treat.

And what if I would rather come here and eat Boss's curry? [He moves his hands off the counter and unzips his bag, pulling out a folder of papers which he regards with a comical degree of apprehension.] Put some of your luck into this brew for me, Akira, would you? [It's not that he needs it-- his grades are spectacular. He's likely to graduate top of his class without even thinking about it.]

[Did he just address Akira by his first name?]

You wouldn't rather eat my curry? [ But then it processes -- that Akechi called him by his first name; that they're this close; that all the other Phantom Thieves, Akechi included, seem to have gotten what they wanted the most in the world and what Akira wants the most -- what Akira struggles to say he wants the most --

It's Akechi, isn't it?

Akira doesn't fumble; he's too used to making coffee for that, but he does pause a moment longer than he needs to as he pours the water, letting it drip down as he tries to deal with the several discordant emotions inside of him. ]

I don't know how good my luck is, but I'll put some in anyway. [ Akira offers him a smile. It's not as fake as it probably should be. ]

Not that you need it. Aren't you still leading the rest of the class?

I'm already asking you for lucky coffee, I didn't figure I should get too greedy. [He registers that pause, shuffling his study papers and flicking his eyes to Akira's hands, tilting his head slightly as his eyes narrow just barely. He's sharp, he's always been sharp, but he's not quite sure why the pause is strange.]

[And then his shoulders sag, and he sets his papers down neatly in favor of stretching his arms across the bar, setting his chin on it.] That's the problem, if I don't get every possible question more than correct, what kind of example am I setting?

[ An Akechi genuinely concerned with setting an example... Well, Akira supposes that it isn't too far from the normal Akechi. He's always been concerned with his appearance. ]

...How can you get a question more than correct? [ Akira answers, instead, because he aces all his schoolwork but he's never answered a question more than correct.

Except maybe with Kawakami, but that's different.

He slides the coffee over once it's done, waiting for the verdict. ]

I haven't figured that part out yet. Extra credit, somehow, surely.

[He claims the coffee when it's offered, curling his hands around it and pulling it close to his body, sitting up to inhale the aroma.]

Well, you're already beating me. [ Akira might be near the top of his class, but he doesn't push himself the way Akechi and Makoto do. He's happy to just hover there on his own merits... with a little help from Morgana, sometimes. ]

Let me know how it is. I've gotta beat Boss one day.

I'm also a year ahead of you, [He offers mildly, bringing the cup to his lips and taking a sip. His whole posture wilts happily and he smiles around the lip of the cup so much it wrinkles the corners of his eyes.] You're definitely on the right track.

[ Akira knew he liked Akechi before, of course. There was never exactly a right time to tell him, because first Akechi was hiding something, then Akechi was trying to kill him, then Akechi was a black mask font of anger after nearly getting killed in the bowels of a cognitive ship.

So. Akira had never told him, though he hoped it'd been indicated here and there (prior to being re-arrested, anyway) in how he always lingered a little too long. He still invited Akechi out, even though most of the invites were simply left on read or responded to with a resounding and caustic "no".

But now Akira was extremely aware that he did not just like Akechi, he Liked Akechi, all capitals and bright red in his mind, because seeing Akechi smile like that so genuinely simultaneously makes Akira's stomach fill with butterflies that rapidly turn into ash, because it isn't genuine. Not really. Not when Akira knows this is fake.

A fake world where Akechi can be happy... Akira thinks it's not so bad, but --

Akechi would hate it, wouldn't he? ]

Don't take too many classes when you get into your top university. I want to utilize my insider knowledge to get free tutoring.

[He would if he knew. It's going to be hideous when he learns. Nothing will prepare either of them for him gaining understanding of his mother being fake, Muhen's vague adoption being fake-- that his happiness was so easy to apply, if only he'd been permitted to keep what he never should have lost.]

[He takes another sip of his coffee.] Oh, do you now? I suppose we could work that out, if you're willing to keep making me this coffee.

[ Akira was supposed to go back home soon, but he doesn't think that's happening. Honestly, in a world where everyone is happy, he feels like his parents might have simply forgotten him entirely. Probably for the best. ]

Sure. I get great improvement making coffee for you. [ It's weird to act like a fake version of himself when he doesn't know if there's really a difference. He knows he still had the probation -- he had double checked the records, and it made sense, given his entire life is basically in Tokyo -- but Akechi was so different.

Was Akira? Should he be? ]

How's your mom?

Edited 2021-06-07 19:24 (UTC)

[He makes a face-- fondly exasperated. It's a roll of his eyes, and then a smile, a chuckle shaking his shoulders. He's a little broader, like how his hair is a little longer. He obviously eats better, takes better care of himself. What a wonder just having someone he couldn't refute the care of as a child had done for him.]

As over the top as always... She works too much, you know. She's so insistent that she has to work herself to absolute death while I'm still in school... [He sucks down a good portion of his coffee, and then sets it aside to splay out his papers.] And I'm going to get into the best university this country will allow me to, and I'm gonna get scholarships, and then do something great, so she never has to work again.

[ Akira wants to touch Akechi's hair so much it's nearly overwhelming. He feels like he's getting distracted by the smallest things, and he's pretty sure it's a defense mechanism against the entire situation. ]

I feel like you're not going to convince her to stop working even if you're making a million yen a week. [ Given Akechi's work ethic -- though Akira isn't certain how much of that is spite, in their usual reality. ]

I don't know what I'll do, either.

[He looks up from his papers, startled.]

Are you not planning to stay in the city after school? Or-- even after this year, I guess, your probation... [He looks back down at his papers, realization settling in his features. He looks equal parts chastised and unhappy, the expressions both displayed openly in a way the spiteful Goro Akechi of Akira's past never would have exhibited.] You can't very well get free tutoring if you don't stay, you know.

[ Akira doesn't know what to do with any of this. He doesn't. It's fake, isn't it, so he shouldn't lean on any of it, shouldn't take it as real -- he has to figure out why it's happening --

But Akechi looks so unhappy at the mere thought of Akira leaving. He looks so unhappy, and it's fixable, it's something Akira can fix, so -- ]

...I'm not sure. My parents expect me to, but I really like it here. [ Akira offers Akechi a smile, small and careful, like it's something for only Akechi. Which -- it kind of is. ]

There's people that like me here. Getting tutored by the ace student Akechi Goro might be a good enough reason for them to let me stay.

[His ears turn pink and he scrunches his face, looking down at his papers and waving him off.] Oh, stop. Like your parents would have any idea who I am.

[He sets his hand up on the bar, placed... oddly, sort of reached toward Akira's.] ...it would be nice if you could stick around, though.

...Yeah. It'd be nice. [ It's too much. It feels like the emotion is clogging in his throat, in his chest, in every fiber of his being, because he wants to enjoy this even though it's sharp at all the edges for how wrong it is. It feels like it'll cut into him at the slightest provocation, but he can't make himself stop.

He doesn't want to break this illusion. Isn't that the worst part of all?

He hangs his apron up, moving around the counter to sit next to Akechi. ]

I'll talk to them. I'd... like to stay. [ In Leblanc.

In this reality. ]

[He studies him, the subtle stress in his posture, and watches him hang his apron and circle around to sit with him, reaching back for his coffee.]

Don't force it-- it's better to have as good of a relationship with them as you can until you're a legal adult. [He moves his previously slightly outstretched hand, bumping the back of his wrist against Akira's.] But if tutoring from an upperclassman would help at all, I'm sure I could spin something.

[ This isn't how it could have ever gone, but Akira wishes it was. Akira wishes something like this was within his power.

For once, he almost hopes this is something he isn't strong enough to fix.

Akira bumps his hand back against Akechi's. ]

My parents are probably happier with me a couple towns away, but I can probably convince them. [ It seems like it might happen much more easily in this reality. ]

It isn't for a couple months, though. I've got plenty of time to show up unannounced at Jazz Jin before then.

[He makes the first familiar face he's made since he walked in-- scowling, though its muted. He leaves his wrist butted up to Akira's, sucking down the rest of his coffee.] I still can't understand it. Ignoring that I was fathered by trash, your parents seem to display no real reason to neglect you this way.

[A beat, and he shrugs his shoulders, only shifting away from Akira's wrist in favor of picking up a pen.] But I suppose in a roundabout way, I'm thankful. I never would have met you without their disservice.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject