[Akira mirrors that eye roll, and opens his mouth to respond--]
[and that's when it happens]
[there's no catalyst. it just. . . occurs, whether Akechi or Akira willed it to or not (and Akira definitely didn't will it to happen). a flash of a memory, vague at first until it comes into clear view. Akechi will recognize the casino, and Joker running away from the human-like security guards with a briefcase in hand. he'll see an arrest at the hands of a very large taskforce. . . and then an interrogation room, dark and dim and dismal, accompanied by a headache and aches and bruises and everything that accompanied Akira's questioning at the hands of Shido's police]
[he'll get to experience first hand the cruelty of the justice system, all of which ends when Akira finally signs the confession, forced as he was to do so]
[and when it ends? Akira jerks back, a bit surprised, his hand flying to his temple as he kind of stares out into space like ??? WHY IS HE SUDDENLY THINKING ABOUT THAT DAY]
[Why, indeed. Akechi doesn't look shocked by the sheer cruelty of the justice system. Not when he, himself, has played a part in propagating its corruption. His expression is pinched, eyebrows furrowed as he opens his mouth to say something, and then—
A phone conversation, tucked away in a corner of the Ginza Line where people are less likely to overhear. It's impossible to deny the way the praise makes him feel. It's even more impossible to deny that the conversation goes downhill pretty quickly after that, unease seeping in until — it clicks. And the memory ends just as Akechi comes to a conclusion, his suspicions all but confirmed at this point... Hm. That's cheery.]
[oh. . . oh. that memory? definitely not his, and for a few moments after it fades, Akira is. . . strangely quiet]
[then he lifts his eyes up to Akechi, searching his expression as carefully as he can, his own beginning to smooth out as his shock and surprise fades]
. . . so that's how you knew. . .
[that he was alive. that the Phantom Thieves were still working, even if in the background]
[His own expression is... Well, tense would be one way to describe it.]
Yes.
[Calmly, he smooths out his shirt and straightens his tie.]
... I already had reason to believe something odd had occurred. I felt dizzy while leaving the interrogation room, after all. [And then, at the TV studio... Hm.] That conversation only served to confirm my suspicions.
[he thought something was off from the very beginning, did he. . .? hah. Akira lifts a hand to adjust his glasses, pushing them a bit further up his nose so the lenses catch the light, flashing opaque]
Why didn't you follow up sooner?
[it was to their benefit that he didn't, but. . . why didn't he? Akechi knew how the Metaverse worked. he knew what it felt like to travel from one world to the other. if he felt something strange had happened in the interrogation room, then why. . .?]
[was it truly not enough of a concern for him to investigate it immediately?]
[Flatly, at first. And then it starts to sink in.]
You knew since June— [Laughing, maybe. Just a little. There's shocked disbelief here, man.] I stood no chance from the very beginning, and you didn't say anything?
[Akira's stomach twists with a familiar guilt. there had been so many reasons why he remained silent, but in the wake of everything that happened, was the silence he used to protect himself worth it?]
[if he knew then what he knew now, would things have been different?]
I would have gone after your teammates as well. [Bluntly.] I let them walk free is because I thought they were unaware of my betrayal. But would you be so forgiving if I tried to kill them outside of the Metaverse, too?
[ALSO BLUNT. . . because yeah, if there's anyone Akira wouldn't be forgiving over Akechi hurting, it's his teammates. Futaba and Haru's pain is still fresh in his memory, and regardless of how hard he's trying to reach Akechi through his prickly and angry exterior, he still hasn't forgiven those crimes]
[still won't. not until Futaba and Haru forgive him first]
But you didn't. And you wouldn't now. [HE. . . THINKS] So that's a non-issue.
He stares at him, and scoffs in disbelief. Please be a little less forgiving now, because he has not stopped being baffled since that day in Shido's palace.]
I suppose there's no use in talking in hypotheticals, is there?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I keep things professional, unlike you.
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I'm a wild card. Making friends is professional for me.
[THEY'RE CALLED CONFIDANTS BITCH]
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Justify yourself however you want. You're only setting yourself up for disappointment.
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[and that's when it happens]
[there's no catalyst. it just. . . occurs, whether Akechi or Akira willed it to or not (and Akira definitely didn't will it to happen). a flash of a memory, vague at first until it comes into clear view. Akechi will recognize the casino, and Joker running away from the human-like security guards with a briefcase in hand. he'll see an arrest at the hands of a very large taskforce. . . and then an interrogation room, dark and dim and dismal, accompanied by a headache and aches and bruises and everything that accompanied Akira's questioning at the hands of Shido's police]
[he'll get to experience first hand the cruelty of the justice system, all of which ends when Akira finally signs the confession, forced as he was to do so]
[and when it ends? Akira jerks back, a bit surprised, his hand flying to his temple as he kind of stares out into space like ??? WHY IS HE SUDDENLY THINKING ABOUT THAT DAY]
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Another memory begins.
A phone conversation, tucked away in a corner of the Ginza Line where people are less likely to overhear. It's impossible to deny the way the praise makes him feel. It's even more impossible to deny that the conversation goes downhill pretty quickly after that, unease seeping in until — it clicks. And the memory ends just as Akechi comes to a conclusion, his suspicions all but confirmed at this point... Hm. That's cheery.]
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[then he lifts his eyes up to Akechi, searching his expression as carefully as he can, his own beginning to smooth out as his shock and surprise fades]
. . . so that's how you knew. . .
[that he was alive. that the Phantom Thieves were still working, even if in the background]
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Yes.
[Calmly, he smooths out his shirt and straightens his tie.]
... I already had reason to believe something odd had occurred. I felt dizzy while leaving the interrogation room, after all. [And then, at the TV studio... Hm.] That conversation only served to confirm my suspicions.
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Why didn't you follow up sooner?
[it was to their benefit that he didn't, but. . . why didn't he? Akechi knew how the Metaverse worked. he knew what it felt like to travel from one world to the other. if he felt something strange had happened in the interrogation room, then why. . .?]
[was it truly not enough of a concern for him to investigate it immediately?]
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But he won't mention that.
Instead, he offers him a sharp look as he steps back to lean against one of the displays.]
All your friends had to do was run with their tails between their legs, and everything would have worked out like it was meant to.
["They're nothing but cattle," he said. What a joke.]
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You really think so little of them?
[well. that isn't surprising, considering the things Akechi had said about them in the hull of that ship]
I may be their leader, but I'm only as strong as they are.
[and he has no doubt that even if he weren't in the picture, they'd still manage to continue onwards]
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Of course I do. Remora are remora, after all. Even though you managed to deceive me, it doesn't change what you are.
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"Attic trash?"
[he says that sharply, but. . . with a hint of pride]
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The trash of society.
[It's fine. Even though he's insulting him, there's a distinct lack of the same kind of bite and vitriol he displayed back on the ship.
A beat.]
You never told me. How did you know I intended to kill you? I thought I put up a rather convincing act in front of you and your teammates.
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You did. It was almost perfect.
[almost]
But you messed up from the moment we met. Back when you overheard Morgana's comment on pancakes at the TV station.
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... You knew.
[Flatly, at first. And then it starts to sink in.]
You knew since June— [Laughing, maybe. Just a little. There's shocked disbelief here, man.] I stood no chance from the very beginning, and you didn't say anything?
[Hah. Hahahaha.
What the fuck, man.]
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[Akira's stomach twists with a familiar guilt. there had been so many reasons why he remained silent, but in the wake of everything that happened, was the silence he used to protect himself worth it?]
[if he knew then what he knew now, would things have been different?]
. . . I should have.
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Just like a rubber band, he sort of. Snaps back.]
You should have? Are you an idiot? [Akechi very much did not know then what he knows now, so naturally—] I would have only tried to kill you sooner.
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[HE SEEMS. . . UNFAZED]
And maybe we could've spent more time-- [a hesitation, brief but notable] -- actually working together.
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I would have gone after your teammates as well. [Bluntly.] I let them walk free is because I thought they were unaware of my betrayal. But would you be so forgiving if I tried to kill them outside of the Metaverse, too?
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[ALSO BLUNT. . . because yeah, if there's anyone Akira wouldn't be forgiving over Akechi hurting, it's his teammates. Futaba and Haru's pain is still fresh in his memory, and regardless of how hard he's trying to reach Akechi through his prickly and angry exterior, he still hasn't forgiven those crimes]
[still won't. not until Futaba and Haru forgive him first]
But you didn't. And you wouldn't now. [HE. . . THINKS] So that's a non-issue.
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He stares at him, and scoffs in disbelief. Please be a little less forgiving now, because he has not stopped being baffled since that day in Shido's palace.]
I suppose there's no use in talking in hypotheticals, is there?
[Akira can have this just this ONCE.]
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Yeah. I guess not.