stealhearted | after me comes the flood;

[ Akira considers Akechi for a moment, wordlessly, and then pulls his glasses off, folding them shut to offer them to Akechi. Whether or not Akechi accepts, it is a shockingly valid strategy to hide when you don't feel like dealing with people. ]

The catch is that I have a lot of grossly sentimental feelings about you, even if they're from a distance.

[He reaches up and lays his fingers over Akira's, but doesn't quite take the glasses. His breathing shallows out but the person walks right past them without even really looking at them, and he slowly releases his grip. His mouth tastes sour, but he sags where he stands a little, grumbling softly.]

So long as it's kept at a distance, I can't tell you how to feel.

[ Akira just offers Akechi a sort of -- vaguely sad, extremely tired smile. He knows better than to try to stifle Akechi. Akechi is the sort of feral cat that will only run if any affection is forced upon him. ]

I'll keep it at a distance. [ He hooks his glasses onto his shirt collar, like an elderly man, but leaves them off, for the moment -- he's not in any danger of being recognized, and he doesn't have to worry about anyone being afraid of him. ]

I'm going to go raid their cooking section. [ He was entirely serious about getting that stock pot, even if he doubts the corner store sells pour overs. ]

Sure, [He offers, his tone thin, and he browses in a wandering circle, not really looking at or even really for anything. He ends up picking up a concealer stick, because he knows his eye bags look awful, and it feels more like a habit than something he really intentionally picked up. He also picks up a two-pack of a sheet mask he vaguely recalls enjoying, and a single salmon rice ball. He wanders back to the cooking section to find Akira, and stops at the mouth of the aisle when a display of fake flowers catches his eye.]

[Of course the first bunch he notices is a cluster of sunflowers. He makes a conscious effort not to look as sick as he feels, finding Akira and moving to stand mostly in his shadow.]

[ They don't have pour overs, so Akira gets several canned coffees, which will do in a pinch, and then settles on filling a stock pot -- which they do have, astonishingly -- with the ingredients he needs for curry, including rice. When he catches back up with Akechi, he immediately asks: ]

Do you own a rice cooker? [ Akira can make rice by hand, but he genuinely doesn't know if Akechi owns... many... appliances. ]

[It takes him a moment to process the question, and he grimaces like his head hurts before responding.] ...yes. It's small, maybe a four cup capacity. Sae.

That's enough if it's just the two of us. [ Akira considers Akechi for a moment, a little -- critically? ]

Do you need to restock any medicine while we're here? [ You know, band-aids for the hand, painkillers for the head, lubricant for the stick up your ass. ]

I'll pay for the curry supplies, since I'm the one insisting on it.

[Excuse you.]

[He does look at his left hand, though, the way his glove doesn't quite fit right on it because of the gauze.] ...mm, I'll get another roll of gauze tape. [He licks his lips, swallows.] We can... other things should be opening within the next few hours, to get you some necessities.

Yeah. You know this area better than I do. [ Obviously, given Akechi lives here, though Akira doubts he actually meanders out and about like Akira does. Akira, who has (had?) a running rapport with several small business owners, who knows the name of the their kids and remembers facts about their lives.

It's weird how different Tokyo is, because he actually cares about this shit instead of just memorizing it to get somewhere like he did back home. ]

I'll grab an extra blanket... [ He doesn't want to, 1. assume that he will be allowed to cuddle up to Akechi every night, and, 2. assume that Akechi won't steal the blankets like a goddamn thief. ]

[Akechi has always kept to himself around here, though he feels like in this reality he may have been a touch more social. Friendly with the neighbors, but quiet and focused on his own studies more than making friends. Without being the media's darling, he didn't have to fake giving a fuck on a constant basis.]

I won't make you take the couch, it's wretchedly uncomfortable. [But there won't be much cuddling going on, most of the time.]

...Thanks. [ Akira offers Akechi a small smile, because he's glad. Akechi could tell him to take the couch, and Akira would -- he wants to give Akechi the space he needs -- but also Akira is cripplingly, depressingly lonely right now, and even the act of not-cuddling in the bed is helpful to him right now.

He's doing pretty well at pretending he's fine, but he's about one second away from a breakdown at any moment, actually. ]

Should we drop everything off before we go to that cafe?

[He shakes his head, humming a moment.] Don't... don't thank me, I believe we are both benefiting from the company of another person right now. It's symbiotic, I'm not really doing you a favor.

[He claims some medical gauze and tape, and a bottle of antiseptic. After a moments thought he also gets a suture kit. He's really not sure how bad the gash in his hand is, and it's not like they're useless if this specific injury doesn't require them.] Mmn, that's a good idea.

[ Akira hedges his bets for a long moment, trying to decide how honest they should be. He's careful about it, when they're both so raw, still, so he falls quiet until they're back near Akechi's condo building before Akira finally says: ]

I benefit from your company, specifically. [ He offers Akechi a small smile around his curry pot of ingredients, hoisted up in his arms. He'd declined a bag. ]

I think you understand me better than most people. So even if it isn't a favor, I still want to thank you.

[He was enjoying the silence, despite usually being the one who can't shut up. Regardless, he's not... angry when it's broken, or what it's broken by, but he turns something of a grimace toward him as he pulls out his keys.]

...you're wrong, because I don't understand you at all. [Maybe "at all" is pushing it, but he certainly doesn't think he understands him better than the thieves. Morgana, at the very least.]

Maybe it's because you were trying so hard to beat me? But you're the -- sometimes, it feels like you're the only one who sees me as a person. [ And then, hastily: ] I don't -- mind being the leader, and I know they care, but --

[ Akira shrugs, helplessly. He understands the perspective of the rest of the thieves: he swooped in from the countryside and immediately started saving lives and changing the world without a second doubt; he faced his own death without flinching; he did everything exactly the way he needed to and because he wanted to help people.

But he does falter, sometimes; he has doubts, sometimes. He thinks Akechi sees it more than most of them do. ]

I've always feel comfortable with you, attempted murder aside.

[He meanders into the kitchen, tries not to look at it. Sets a little potted fake sunflower he couldn't talk himself out of on top of the fridge. It looks garish in the dreariness of the apartment, but he leaves it, offering Akira a thoughtful hum.]

[Pacing around and putting away his things, he comes back to the kitchen and folds his arms over his chest, assessing Akira.] ...it's similar, I suppose, to my own circumstances. People can't realize you need help if you don't tell them, and you frequently display a marked level of capability that put them at ease while simultaneously making them put you on a pedestal of invincibility. I fought so hard to push people away and keep them at arm's length I didn't even realize myself how manipulated I was.

I like to think I know you better than most people. [ Akira hefts the curry pot onto the stove and starts unpacking it. It's too early to make curry, but he can set the ingredients up where he needs them to be. He'll start on the roux later; it'll be best if he lets it cook for a few hours. ]

Which might just be because I'm really stubborn. So -- maybe we can just know each other. [ Akira offers Akechi another one of those small, private smiles, hand going up to toy with one of his curls almost self-consciously. ]

...I'm just glad you're here.

[Emotion curdles in his stomach as he watches the nearly self-conscious gesture, the private smile. He wants this, so desperately, but he can't allow himself to have it. Least of all from Akira fucking Kurusu. He looks down at the floor between them, shrugging his shoulders gently.]

We're both relatively stubborn, so I suppose that's a fair compromise. I'm not certain I can agree to being glad to be here, so I'll let you be glad for us both.

...I can do that. [ As long as Akechi is willing to put up with him, Akira is willing to be there, to enjoy Akechi's company and to continually try to save them both from -- well, whatever seems to happen when they're alone. Terrible things for both of them, all things considered. ]

Let's go get coffee. [ Akira feels like smiles are a little weird for him, right now, when he's toeing the line of wanting to be genuine and desperately wanting to pretend everything is okay. But -- it's likely that Akechi would see right through anything fake from Akira, so. His smiles are a little smaller and a little brighter at the same time, laser focused in on Akechi.

Ahh, he's got it bad. ]

[Existential exhaustion does not become Akechi, despite how he wears most things startlingly well. He hates that for so long he made do being alone, even if he forced it on himself and only told himself so many times he was fine that he could recite the lie in his sleep, only for Akira to come along and weaken his functional ability. He hadn't known support in so long he considered it unnecessary, and now there was a handsome young man with piercing eyes and a heart of molten gold constantly vying to be there for him in every way at every turn.]

[It's nauseating.]

[But the private little smiles, honest in the way they're small and focused instead of broad enough that everyone assumes him fine, make his stomach do little somersaults while he's standing still. He draws in a breath, holds it, exhales.]

Try not to be too disappointed.

The coffee can't be that bad. [ Which -- isn't exactly what Akechi met, Akira thinks, but it's an out to the conversation. He can see the tension set in Akechi's shoulders, see the way he looks into things too deeply to be focused on them, and Akira sympathizes.

They've got a long day ahead of them, if they're the only ones infiltrating the palace. Akira doesn't want to wear them out too early with the unforgiving feeling of being Perceived.

At any rate, everything is put up, and Akira doesn't have anything to do with his hands, so he just shoves them into his pockets. It's not a morning coffee date, Akira, don't get all nervous now --

But it is just Time With Akechi (tm), so Akira likes it. ]

Lead the way.

[He doesn't have anything else to add-- so he just leads them out and locks the door again, taking them to the little cafe. The barista seems to recognize him, but also seems aware that the fact that he looks like he's been hit by a truck means she shouldn't make that apparent, but she does include a freebie pair of pastries with their coffees, to which Akechi has no idea how to react.]

[He stands very still with the small bag that is very pointedly looped around his wrist as he goes to claim his coffee, and doesn't quite figure out how to reanimate.]

[ Akira, for his part, can't quite turn the part of him that makes friends wherever he goes off, so he's polite and attentive to the barista; he thanks her for the pastries and comments on the menu; they briefly talk coffee shop talk for a moment before he excuses himself to hover close enough to Akechi that the barista gets a knowing look in her eye.

Akira leans over to bump his shoulder against Akechi's -- carefully, because they're both holding coffee by that point -- and give him an easy look. ]

Do you want to sit for awhile? I can tell you what I learned when I went to his Palace. [ If they discuss it in public -- since it isn't like anyone around them will care; they're in a fake reality -- it helps guarantee that Akira will not have another unfortunate breakdown. Probably. ]

[Akira's shoulder bump is well-timed and jostles him out of the perplexed bootloop Akechi had gotten stuck in, and he jolts, holding his coffee cup a little tighter than needed for a moment. He turns sharply, looking strangely hunted for a moment before he looks Akira over and slowly calms back down.]

...I don't want to stay long, but fine.

I didn't get very far, so it won't be that long of a conversation. [ Akira offers him a smile before he sits down -- the smile is a little more of the kind of smile you'd expect from Akira's public persona, instead of the smiles he's started showing when it's just the two of them.

He takes a sip of the coffee, and, to his credit, he doesn't grimace: the coffee is... okay. Not great, but palatable enough.

The point is that it's caffeine. ]

It's in Odaiba. It's a palace, but he doesn't have a shadow -- it's really him ruling over it. I guess because he's altering reality, he can do that.

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