stealhearted | are you hurting the one you love?

It's probably... that we're connected. [ Even Akira sounds a little less sure than usual when he says it. There's less of his self-confidence and more of a tentative note in his voice, the cadence entirely too even and calm to be fully genuine.

As much as Akira would like to be completely unflappable, he isn't, and as much as he'd like to pretend he can take Akechi being back in stride, he can't when this new complication is added in.

He also knows it's one of the last things Akechi wants to hear. ]

Literally.

[He's quiet for a while. The lack of smug confidence in his tone speaks to Akira's confusion, but also, somehow, to his interest in believing what he says. It's hypothetical, and he knows it, but it makes some degree of sense, and it's what he wants to believe. Akechi, however, is far less of a dreamer than Akira, having given up on positive outlooks when he was shorter than the counters at Leblanc, and he circles his eye with two fingers, pressing them to the bridge of his nose and finally leveling Akira with raised eyebrows, letting all but one of his fingers fan down over his nose and mouth.]

Are you meaning in the sense that I killed you once and then failed to die and am now for some incomprehensible reason allowing you to cook me dinner that for all intelligent reasons in the world you should be poisoning, or am I continuing to grasp for straws?

I'm fresh out of poison. [ Akira says it totally deadpan, the way he says most of his jokes. He wouldn't say that he's a terribly funny person, but he also thinks there's something to be gained from his approach to humor.

It's possible that it's the trauma, but he doesn't like to think about that. ]

We're the same in a lot of ways, aren't we? [ It's very mild, but a little more pointed. They're different in a lot of ways, mostly -- you know -- the murder, but they're both the odd ones out, capable of summoning more than one persona.

Akira has always wondered, idly, if their positions had been reversed, if he wouldn't have done the same thing as Akechi. He wonders what would have happened, if he and Akechi had been able to meet much earlier, when that power was first awakening.

There's no point in wondering, because Akira can't change the past, and he doesn't dwell on it more than he has to. But he wonders, and he thinks about the similarities, and the kind of bond they have. ]

[He's making an honest effort to be mild, because he's realized he's trapped. Honestly, the notion scares him, but not half as much as the fact that he's realizing, as he watches Akira calculate his words as he calculates his curry, that he's probably never been safer in his life. It sours his stomach, and he closes his eyes, letting his hand slide to his forehead, under his hair enough that his face is entirely obscured.]

Similar, perhaps. Not the same. [Because Akechi, put in the same position as Akira right now, would have found a way to poison the curry and kill them both. He exhales, staring at the grain of the counter top.] You know I can't pay you, for dinner. [He'd be surprised if he even had an ID on him, currently.]

It's on the house. [ It's just leftovers,so it isn't as though it'll infringe on Sojiro's profits, the existence of which is still in some degree of doubt. The curry is starting to simmer, the smell gently wafting up, and it leaves Akira without anything to do with his hands for the next ten minutes, so he goes back to the counter.

It's surreal, to be standing behind the counter again when Akechi is seated at it, but Akira can tell there's no degree of surreality that makes this a dream. ]

You can stay here. [ A beat, and then Akira offers more words than he usually does at one time -- ] I know you don't want to, but it's a safe place to get your bearings.

[ And, of course, it isn't like Akechi has a choice, at the moment. He can't leave. He can't leave Akira, which is as baffling as it is convenient for one of them. ]

[He shifts, leaning back enough to raise his head and squint at Akira for a long moment.]

...it's not as if I have a choice. Don't overextend yourself for my sake, I'm not in the market of owing you. [And he's not sure he'll eat much, because he probably doesn't eat much to begin with, especially not something substantial like curry.]

[ Akira shrugs, the gesture much more nonchalant than he feels. Truthfully, he's not sure he has his bearings, but there's not much he can do about it besides wait, figure things out, and try to convince Akechi of... something. Akira's not entirely sure what. ]

S'what friends are for. [ Akira knows that Akechi absolutely would never call them friends, but luckily, for all of Akechi's denials, he can't change the way Akira feels about him.

His life might be easier if he could. ]

[He flinches at the word, closing his eyes and pulling inward again.]

There are far too many anomalies in our dealings with one another to be called friendship, Kurusu.

[ Akira steps forward, reaching out and putting his fingertip out, hand curled to form an imitation of a gun. He taps Akechi's forehead, a barely there pressure on his bangs. It's a mirror of a very similar situation, except that time Akechi had a real gun. ]

"A state of mutual trust between allies". [ Akira sounds like he's quoting a dictionary, because... he is. He trusts Akechi. Not necessarily in a positive way -- Akechi is still volatile and angry; an explosion waiting to happen -- but he knows Akechi, can work around the jagged edges and the explosive nature of the boy. He thinks Akechi, likewise, has learned to anticipate all of Akira's own flaws and strengths. They fight well together.

That's gotta count for something.

He drops his hand, after a moment. ]

Friendly rivals, if you want.

I have never once considered my behavior toward you "friendly". [Boy doesn't even realize he went on at least three dates with him, over here trying to play grouchy. He considers swatting Akira's hand away but ultimately doesn't, leaning away to sit straighter in his chair rather than hunched over the counter, bracing his hands on the edge of it and stretching, absently.]

Though I am required to ask-- exactly where do you have the space to put me, and won't your guardian object to housing two freeloaders?

[ Akira shrugs. It's just a slow roll of the shoulders, but half of any conversation with Akira is in his body language. ]

Bed's big enough for two...? [ It absolutely isn't without getting entirely too close to each other -- not to mention Morgana -- and Akira knows it. ]

There's extra blankets for the couch. It's not the first time someone's stayed over. [ Sojiro won't mind. Well, Akira rephrases that in his mind: Sojiro wouldn't mind someone staying over when they're down on their luck, as he'd been willing to put Yusuke up in a pinch. Sojiro might object to putting Akechi "I Killed Wakaba, Kunikazu Okumura, and Myself, and Tried Really Hard To Kill Akira" Goro up for any period of time.

But it's happening! It's happening, because Akira said so, and because there doesn't seem to be an alternative. ]

[He tsks immediately, rolling his eyes and sliding off his seat to take curious steps toward the stairwell, half pressing his luck for how far he can go and half just needing to move.]

It absolutely is not, it's barely big enough for you and your cat, [He tosses his hand into the air over his shoulder as if trying to physically wave Akira's words away from him, stopping and leaning his hip into the wall just beside the bathroom door. He brings the same hand to his lips, tapping a knuckle to them in thought with a curious hum and speaks mostly to himself, but with enough volume that Akira can hear.] I suppose it isn't especially an option for me to attain any of my things... That might pose an issue.

[ Akira watches him go, but doesn't move himself. It's interesting to see how far Akechi can go, if the distance when they're level is the same as when they were separated in height by the stairs. He's sure there's all sorts of math and science to be done about it, but he thinks it might be the Futaba kind more than anything else. ]

Is there anything you need right away? [ Akira can provide Akechi with a lot of things, but for all he knows Akechi has a collection of mushrooms he needs to water or something. ]

[He does seem the type to keep plants, doesn't he. No such luck, as his only thought is a muttered "identification" for a long time as he starts chewing on his knuckle, gnawing at the fold of extra skin at the bend. He stays that way a while until he realizes he's entirely lost in his own head and pivots, turning a mild but perhaps somewhat friendly expression somewhere a few inches to the left of Akira's head.]

Not especially. If you're insisting on feeding me, for at least the moment I'll make do with only what I have, which... Is exactly what you see. I hope you weren't planning any extravagant expenditures.

[ Identification is a weird thought for Akira, because when he was a dead man walking, the last thing in the world he wanted was to be identified. But it's different, for Akechi, this time around, and he understands that. On the subject of feeding, though, he turns around to plate up the curry, a careful line of rice and curry on each side. He sets it where Akechi had been sitting before he crosses back around to sit by the bar himself. He leaves a stool between the two of them. ]

If your apartment's still there... We can go by tomorrow. [ He doesn't know if Akechi's apartment would have been kept. Akira doesn't even know where he lives, actually, though it occurs to him that Futaba could have found out if he'd wanted.

In a way, Akira hadn't wanted to go there, hadn't wanted to do anything that cemented Akechi as dead. He'd rather keep the glove and the hope alive.

It seems a little silly now. ]

[He considers the curry warily for a moment before climbing back onto his stool, and it's definitely more than he'll eat in one sitting, but that doesn't stay in his mind long because Akira is talking about going to his apartment. He digs a spoon perfectly down the split of curry so it is half rice and half curry, considering it for a while.]

You won't like my apartment, [He tries the curry, and is... both surprised and impressed that it's not too spicy. He almost expected Akira to punk him with Fire Curry, but this is downright palatable. He chews thoughtfully.] Though I don't really like it much, myself. There isn't much I'll want, if anything is left.

Then we can go shopping. [ Akira is, to put it politely, quite loaded, after all the loot he'd sold off from the various palaces they went to. He doesn't have a whole lot to spend it on, either, aside from some various gifts for everyone. Now that he isn't trying to outfit the entire Phantom Thieves with top of the line weapons and armor, he has an astonishing amount of money stashed away with nothing to spend it on -- particularly when he still works a part time job here and there out of habit. ]

For anything you need. [ Akira knows that Akechi won't want to accept it -- it probably reads as pity, to Akechi, when in actuality Akira would do the same for any of his friends if they were down on their luck -- but he thinks Akechi will have to, unless he wants to wear nothing but Akira's clothing.

Which is a thought that gets stuck in Akira's head long enough that he stares into the far wall of Leblanc for a moment too long, midway through eating his curry, before he manages to look back at Akechi. ]

[He gives him a withering frown, curling his lip as he raises a second mouthful of curry to his face.]

I'm sure you'd love that. I shouldn't need more than what I want to obtain from my own living space, thankfully.

We'll talk to Futaba tomorrow. [ Akira says it definitively, without any room for Akechi to argue -- it's that specific tone of voice that he used so often when he was acting as the leader of the Phantom Thieves, and that he hasn't used much since then. It sounds strange, to his ears. Like he's out of practice. ]

I'm sure she'll be able to figure out why you're... stuck. [ As much as Akira enjoys that Akechi is alive, Akira doesn't want to see him suffering -- even if he objectively deserves it. ]

[He doesn't quite flinch, but his expression pinches as he puts the spoon of curry in his mouth. He doesn't like the notion of the others being made aware he's present, but he supposes Futaba is possibly the least troublesome of them. Or the most? It really depends on which angle you view it from. Once he's chewed and swallowed his mouthful of curry;]

Doesn't she still have the place bugged, anyhow? You've learned well from your guardian with this curry, also. [It's-- it's not praise, so much as he feels obligated to give his thoughts on food he's being given for free.]

She doesn't listen in unless there's a reason. [ And Akira isn't entirely sure Sojiro wants to be the one to mention Akechi's existence to Futaba, so it's really up in the air on if she has any idea about him. ]

Thanks. [ Akira looks pleased at the compliment, even if it wasn't intended to be taken that way. He's read Akechi's blog; he knows what kind of food Akechi used to eat regularly, and he holds it as a point of pride that Akechi seemed to genuinely enjoy the coffee and curry at Leblanc despite that.

It probably wasn't entirely an act. ]

[The good (?) news was he was wholly too tired to constantly act anymore. The detective prince he had built himself to be was dead, and would stay that way, at least for the foreseeable future. For now, he wanted to be the vicious housecat he had always been inside and never allowed himself to be outside.]

It wasn't a compliment. [Exhibit A.]

I'll take it as one. [ You can't take this away from him, Akechi, no matter how hard you try. Akira lapses into quiet for a moment, eating his curry in silence for a long moment before he finally ventures: ]

I'm... really glad to see you again.

Do as you will, then. [He continues to eat, but slowly, claiming smaller and smaller amounts with his spoon as he goes. He really isn't hungry, and Akira vastly overestimated his interest in food with this plate, anyway. So he eats enough to not be rude, enough to sustain him for what little he is able to do with his evening, and then sets the spoon forward so the handle is away from him.]

[He considers it and the partially-eaten plate a while, because it's easier to consider than Akira's statement.] I can't even begin to comprehend why.

[ Akira takes the plates. He's mostly cleared his in the time it's taken Akechi to eat enough to be polite, and he doesn't seem to mind the waste. Curry is cheap, after all, especially curry made with leftover ingredients. He scraps the remnants off in the trash and sets the plates to rinse in the sink before he replies. ]

You wouldn't believe me. [ Akira could list off all the reasons he likes Akechi, but truthfully, they sound like lies even to himself. Even half his friends thought it was strange how readily he'd accepted Akechi's help after Akechi had, quite literally, tried to kill him.

But he likes Akechi, to a degree that made his chest hurt everytime he thought Akechi was dead, to a level that makes him a little concerned about his own sanity to be so caught up on someone that objectively was a pretty shit person. But he'd never been given the chance to make up for any of that; he'd never really been allowed to atone in any way that wasn't just a short way out.

Akira wants to believe that Akechi is more than Akechi himself believes. ]

But it's true.

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