tabularasa_rp | [open] because i can only be me

In theory, it doesn't stray far from chemistry itself.

(From all his talks with Sojiro, all the different combinations and the way they react with one another changing a plate in an instant. It's one of his favorite hobbies, one he feels very proud to even have considering the teacher.

The mood lightened enough for him to just find some peace in this encounter, forearms on the counter as he leans, allowing some of his tension to dissipate. With Akechi's second observation, Ren chuckles. At least let Ren keep some of his secrets.)

It sure is.

Next thing you'll tell me that working with Sakura-san is how you learned to make Molotovs.

[His lips quirk into the smallest of smirks, not really expecting Ren to reveal his secrets so easily. Still, it is a delicious combination. More than he deserves.

If he hadn't come here, he'd never have tasted it. Never allowed himself to visit Leblanc for anything but business, or stayed there long enough for more than a cup of coffee. For all he knows, Maruki's deadline has already passed, and he's either dead or no longer himself in that reality. There isn't much difference.

Who's to say they'll even remember any of this when they manage to go back? Who's to say that however their memories were tampered with upon arrival wouldn't strike again? He doesn't know. He can't know. He can't let himself dwell on what-ifs when he has to keep such a concrete goal in mind.

For now, at least, he'll allow himself to savor this stolen moment where he can pretend that things are normal between them.]

No, that I've learned from my cat.

(Which both know is real, regardless of the absurdity of the words. It makes him snicker, shaking his head playfully before he takes a sip of the coffee. He didn't have much opportunity to experiment back home, where money matters and none of this is really his, not even the mattress on top of milk crates where he sleeps.

Here's been another story, with much more freedom than he ever experienced after receiving that stain in his record. Maybe, thinking about it, this can also be said about Akechi. There's something quite inherently freeing being somewhere where their past is for them to own.)

Speaking of. I've been working. We have enough infiltration tools for a lifetime.

Of course.

[He huffs a quiet laugh through his nose and shakes his head. Morgana, the cat of many talents. He decides he doesn't want to think about the logistics of how cat paws can craft infiltration tools and bombs, and simply accept it as fact. The cat can turn into a bus. Why can't he make tools as well?

But where Ren feels free here, Akechi can only feel trapped with Maruki's deadline hanging over his head like Damocles' sword. He knows better than to think that the other boy might grow content here when there's still work to be done -- when the Phantom Thieves aren't here -- but it's still a constant worry in the back of his mind. That no matter what he does, he's living on borrowed time.

For now, he tries to push that aside, focusing on enjoying the curry.]

I was wondering how you'd picked the lock to my room. The flowers were yours, weren't they?

[As always, though, whenever he's in a peaceful situation, he can't help but toss in something to potentially destroy it. Sure, the flowers may have been a gift from before their time in the bathhouse together, but they certainly take on a new light in the wake of, well. What happened.]

(Not a chance that Ren would rather stay, Akechi is right on that part. The relentless search for the Thieves is more proof than any words he could say - they need him back home, and if they make it here, there's no way he's leaving them to fend for themselves alone.

Unfinished business are unfinished business and Ren never has had a problem to put something like that on top of his own needs.

Ren had finished his coffee, taking the dishes he sees around him back to the sink when Akechi spoke again.
He cannot help himself, can he...

Listen, if Akechi can throw a glove on his face, Ren certainly can make a statement too.)

They were.

Of course.

[His teeth grit briefly before he forces himself to unclench his jaw. What answer was he expecting? Isn't it more reassuring to know without a shadow of a doubt that it is Ren, and not some unknown third party with access to the one space Akechi's chosen to call his own?

He takes another sip of coffee with a conscious effort to keep his face and voice neutral.]

I suppose asking you not to break into my room again is pointless, isn't it?

(???? Is that what the calling out what about?? Ren doing the one thing he does, but not the flowers themselves?

He's not about to give Akechi a bullshit excuse, so he just raises his shoulders and drops them.)

You need a better lock. I'm sure anyone could break in anywhere with effort.

[Patience, Ren! That's coming.]

Spoken like a true thief.

[He takes a careful sip from his coffee before meeting Ren's eyes.]

Then I suppose you'll simply have to craft a better lock then, won't you? If "anyone" can break in, that is.

(False sense of security!

He is what he is, no talk backs on the comment until the last one.)

Huh. Maybe. I don't mind that as much.

(He didn't even have a door before, Akechi.)

I do.

[Well, whatever. If anyone breaks in, finally maybe Akechi can have some fun. Surely neither Cole nor Ren could fault him for self-defense? In any case, he'll need to find a good hiding place for his briefcase when he's not in his room.

It's almost deceptively calm as he takes another sip from the coffee cup, inhales briefly through his nose, and glances back to Ren.]

You can have the flowers back, by the way.

[Considering Akechi did reject his feelings, he thinks.]

You have no idea what they mean, do you?

(Makes sense to him that Akechi wouldn't want them there given the circumstances, but also... Maybe the fact he doesn't know about something as gentle as flowers comes in handy for Ren to have the upper hand at this one.)

I'm not an idiot, Ren.

[He might not know what the colors or blossoms mean, but he knows what giving someone flowers means! Which is precisely how he's taking this question.]

(So sorry, Akechi, but he wants to laugh so badly.

People give flowers all the time, for many different meanings other than the one he chose.)

Flower sending like this is not my style. You've misread it.

(So no, this isn't about the fact Ren very much wants to drag him to the attic.)

Oh?

[Okay, now his annoyance does show clearly on his face, because he doesn't like being proven wrong. He sets down the coffee cup and rests his chin in his hand, eyes meeting Ren's in a challenging, stony glare.]

How so?

(The glare is welcomed by one of his own, equally defiant in manner.

He does feel the blood boiling on his cheeks, giving them a rosy blush - he hates it, but there's no way he's pulling back.)

I'm sure you can figure it out, Detective.

(Ah, it's satisfaction that paints the grin on Ren's face.

It's just delicious to know something Akechi doesn't, as ridiculous as flower meanings.

Less so considering it was a confirmation for their rematch.)

[His hand drops to the bar as he keeps his gaze on Ren, and he can feel a heat rising to his own cheeks as Ren rebuffs his question. Fuck. It's too easy to fall into challenging him again, thinking about how he could reach across this bar right now and kiss him, and Ren wouldn't even protest. He could silence that sharp tongue of his so easily...

He forces himself to lean back in an attempt to break the tension building between them, shaking his head.]

Fine. You're unbelievable, you know that?

(Ren won this round, but there will be many more to come considering who they are and how they are.

The grin only stretches more at the comment. Like you're actually doing something about how the bar feels at least 5 degrees hotter, Akechi.)

And what does that make you?

Fed up with you.

[He scoffs and finishes off the last of his curry, pushing the plate back across the bar. Are things back to normal? They certainly don't feel normal. But at least Ren is speaking to him.

He wants to just ask, point blank. Will Ren risk his death to destroy Maruki's false reality? Will Ren let him go? All evidence points to it being too risky. His teeth worry at the inside of his lip for a moment before he forces himself to stop and steel his expression once again.]

Don't break into my room again.

As per usual.

(At least it makes Ren chuckle a little, just a tad before the command reaches his ears.

It sucks, because unless Ren has a reason, he will respect it and can't even lie about it just to tease Akechi. It's his privacy after all.

He's not making promises, though. The plate that comes his way is immediately taken to the kitchen before he comes back.)

Akechi.

(Is it time?)

Somehow, he can't help but feel a vague press of that tension returning as Ren comes back, though as usual, Akechi's face is a careful study in neutrality.

He sets the cup back down in its saucer to meet his eyes, searching his face for what stupidity he's about to say this time.]

What?

You're terrible at this.

(It's honest, at least. If Akechi thinks Ren can't notice the glimpses, the tension or just how hard he stares at him sometimes, almost in trance before his scrambled brain pulls him back - he's deadly wrong.

Not like Ren is much better, but alas.)

I thought we made a deal.

Tch.

[Immediately his lip curls in distaste, even as he feels a familiar fear fluttering in his heart. Fuck him, and everything he stands for.]

I thought I already made my feelings quite clear. It's distasteful to keep begging.

(Who's begging? Ren did not go after him, so of course the words were received with a frown.)

No, you idiot. Something is not adding up.

(Aside from the whole UST, that is. Why is Akechi's first reaction to it a 'stick to the mission'? Why is he so particularly interested in this? Surely the reality back home was terrible and it makes sense that Akechi would like to challenge it, but if fighting in these sort of situations was from the goodness of his heart, where was him when Mementos melded with reality?)

Don't blame me for your poor math skills.

[He allows himself a final sip of coffee before pushing the cup away, signaling that he's had enough.]

Which part, exactly, are you struggling with?

How come you show up to take my place to juvie, but weren't fighting by my side? Where were you?

(Let's see the answer, calm. He must keep calm.)

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