stealhearted | after me comes the flood;

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after me comes the flood;

[ It starts like this: Akira dreaming that he's in his high school, following a butterfly and feeling the strange tell-tale feeling of the metaverse shifting around him despite the fact that the metaverse should be gone. Akira follows along as best he can when it feels like his body is moving through air denser than ice, and he wakes up with a start to the weirdest day he's ever had in his life -- which is saying something.

So, after some consideration, having talked to his friends and seen how happy they are with what Akira can only assume is some sort of fake reality, Akira settles on the one person that probably can't be fooled either. Akira can't be the only one, right? Akechi could use multiple persona, Akechi was like Akira, so --

He texts him. ]

Hey. Has your day been weird at all?

[ Which Akechi will probably respond to with the most acerbic possible text, Akira assumes, because he can't -- he can't imagine anything else. Even though Akira phrased it like Akechi might not remember, just in case. ]

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[It takes him a second to register Akira spoke, then register he was speaking to him, and finally digest the question. He turns to look over his shoulder with a perplexed frown, succinctly knocked out of his own head by a figurative projectile carrot. It's a simple yes or no question, but he's so thrown off by it disrupting his thoughts he has to wander into the kitchen thinking about it.]

[From the doorway, warily,] ...yes.

I'll put in some extra ones. [ Akira offers him a smile, soft and casual, like it's -- totally normal to be in Akechi's condo, making curry and pretending nothing is wrong and they both haven't had a baker's dozen breakdowns between them in the past twenty-four hours. ]

I didn't go too crazy -- I've just got carrots, potatos, and beef. [ Yes, he's just going to talk about curry to keep some modicum of sanity. ] I think I quadrupled your spice cabinet.

Thank you, [His tone is... less wary, but still a little distant.] I think prior to your curry endeavors I owned salmon furikake and sugar, so that... is probably accurate, yes. Don't overextend yourself for my sake, you're well aware I don't eat terribly much.

It's relaxing to make. It's the same with coffee. It's... something that's not too challenging, but really rewarding to do right. [ Akira's voice is soft, and it's more of an insight than he'd give to most people -- but he's still trying to soothe Akechi. Akechi being calmer benefits the both of them, when they're not going absolutely wild in the Metaverse. ]

You've got cumin and garam masala now, to start.

[He gives an absentminded sniff to the air, closing his eyes a moment with a thoughtful hum.] Turmeric, too, it smells like. [He may not cook, but he does know food. It's sort of an odd placement.]

Yeah. It's a mix. I like to add a little cinnamon. Sojiro's got a whole list down to a science, but I'm determined to make my own. [ He wants a curry he can call his own. He may not be able to top Wakaba's science, but. He can sure try. It's worth a shot, he figures. ]

I mean, there's still a place for the grocery store stuff, but it's nice to be able to spend an hour caramelizing onions and not thinking about anything specifically. Once I spent awhile thinking about superheroes and how Joker is a terrible superhero name. I'm pretty sure there's a villain named Joker.

[He wanders slowly into the kitchen and watches Akira prod the onions while he talks, leaning against the counter roughly an arm's length away and crossing his ankles, lacing his fingers together.]

Yes, in an American comic line. He's one of the main supervillains in the Batman universe. [He would know this, the fucking nerd.]

Right? So I couldn't keep the codename Joker. Unless I was going to be more famous than a fictional villain. [ Akira looks like this a genuine conversation he would pursue, as he stirs his onions. The Phantom Thieves weren't really globally recognizable, so he thinks they're lacking a little in that department. ]

I guess it's lucky I'm a phantom thief, instead.

You carry a very different visual theme than The Joker in DC Comics, at least.

[He considers the onions, looking a bit sick for a moment.] ...thank you, by the way.

...yeah. You're welcome. [ Akira's voice is -- warm. He doesn't know what else there is to say. He thinks he could be happy, like this: making curry and having pointless little conversations with Akechi. He thinks moments like this stand out to him more than anything else. They've both nearly died, sometimes at the hand of the other; they've been through more than either of them ever should have, and at the end of it --

It's the quiet domesticity that gets Akira. It feels stolen everytime, like he's grasping at something he shouldn't be allowed. This quiet warmth, even if it's awkward, even if they're both struggling through it. ]

I'm still dragging you on errands later, so it's a calculated move on my part. [ It is not. He just likes cooking curry. But he can pretend. ]

[His expression mellows somewhat, and he hums, shrugging.]

A calculated risk, I'd say.

Good thing I aced my math quiz. [ Akira flashes him a smile again, because Akira has been acing all of his quizzes in part because he can't let Detective Prince Akechi Goro show him up too much. Even if Akira still can't quote Hegel at the drop of a hat. ]

[He chuckles, but the sound is largely humorless, and he turns to slide down the cabinets and sit on the floor.]

I hope you don't need help with anything, I'm useless in the kitchen.

I've got it. I like cooking, and it's... Something you always let me do for you. [ Akechi might not eat much, but he's never turned down food from Akira, it seems like. Akechi doesn't let Akira fuss over him the way Akira can fuss over everyone else, but -- at least he can do this much.

He's grateful for it, right now. ]

I am going to confiscate your knives if you use the good ones to butter your bread.

I could be using knives for much different purposes, and yet you choose to take issue with me using them for jam. Whatever will I do.

[He leans back against the cabinet, watching Akira from the floor.] What got you into cooking?

Well, you also shouldn't use your kitchen knives to fight. [ Akira punctuates this with a vague gesture with his spoon, in a true cooking wife fashion, before he gives his onions a good stir and then lets them sit. ]

My parents were really busy, and I got tired of convenience store bento and frozen food. [ Akira doesn't sound -- anything, about it; it's a little matter of fact, and the slightest bit rehearsed. ] So I started cooking, and then Sojiro is really into the science behind curry, so... natural progression, I guess.

I like having things to do with my hands.

[He hums softly, looking a bit chastised by the mention of getting tired of konbini and frozen food and drumming his fingers on his knees.] So much for me being a foodie, then, I suppose.

[He reaches up, swatting at the air.] Give me one. [Of his hands, he means, but-- an onion is fine, too.]

You can still be a foodie, just a foodie that's not a good home cook. [ Akira thinks he might be the opposite -- he doesn't mind going out to eat, but he's much more appreciative of a home cooked meal. He likes to spend time with people, and everyone is always chattier around the table, he's found.

It's nicer than taking his meals at home alone in the kitchen. He remembers evenings where he barely bothered to turn the lights on before he devoured his food and retreated to his bedroom. It's weird to think about, now.

He does not give Akechi an onion, but only because they're only partway to caramelized and still very hot, so he offers a hand out, seemingly a bit confused. ]

[Turning his face so he's not looking at him, Akechi tangles their fingers together.]

There. Now you've more than onions to keep your hands occupied.

[ It's a good think that Akechi is turned away, because Akira actually flushes, pink dusting across his cheeks. It's -- cute, and thoughtful, and a lot of things that Akira doesn't normally associate with Akechi (he's usually cute, but it's usually in a much more 'might stab you' fashion), and it's a little overwhelming.

After a minute, Akira squeezes back. ]

You can keep it until I need to start on the potatoes. [ He sounds unbearably fond and endeared. ]

[He's not sure why it's comforting, to feel Akira's fingers squeeze his. To feel them stay, after, keep the contact, keep the warmth. He closes his eyes and draw his knees up to his chest, folding into them. He's quiet, and mostly still once he settles into his knees, but his thumb idly strokes the back of one of Akira's fingers.]

[ It's surprisingly easy to cook like this, given that Akira is just tending to the roux reduction and caramelizing the onions. Both only need to be stirred lightly -- he'll take care of the fond with a little bit of vinegar, later, to get the flavor to really combine, but he doesn't need to worry about that yet.

He eventually sets the spoon down and drifts a little closer to Akechi. He doesn't say anything, just pulls out his phone and browses a completely unrelated website. It's not the website that's important right now. It's just --

Being with Akechi, like this. ]

[He pulls a little on his fingers, after a while.]

My rice cooker is sort of old, it takes a while... Here. [He shifts, pulling himself back to his feet, and seems to consider letting go of Akira's hand, but pauses.] ...I can at least make rice without destroying the kitchen.

[ Akira smiles. It's a little odd to shift around so that Akechi can access the rice cooker without letting go, but the onions don't need that much attention; he can afford to look away for a few minutes. ]

Cool. Sojiro's is pretty old and finicky... rice cookers are surprisingly personal. [ Which is to say, the rice cookers definitely take after their owners. He's gonna write a thesis on it one day. ]

[He makes a face at that, because the suggestion of rice cookers having personalities is entirely beyond him, but he manages to rinse two cups of rice and put them into the cooker and set it to cook one-handed without setting the place on fire. Having his fingers still tangled in Akira's is starting to freak him out, he thinks, but he ignores the goosebumps running up his arm from their joined hands.]

If that's the case, it's a wonder mine hasn't exploded yet.

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