[Akechi Goro does his research. That is an irrefutable fact. He is above the law, above everyone, and it was a simple feat to learn Kurusu Akira's basic information. Birthday included.
He took him out that day back then - offered to spend time with him, only a week before Akechi would place a bullet into his skull.
They can hardly do that here. This shithole has the amenities of rural peasant town in the 1600s. Dolph's club is the closest thing to Jazz Jin, a place he visits when the music shifts from heart pounding to calming, but-
This is Akira. This isn't his Akira. Akechi acknowledges this Akira, but there's too many missing points between, uncrossed paths, worlds split at the seam where they were once bound.
It's not his Akira, so a sacred spot will remain that way. An offer to take him typed, then deleted. An offer to go to the bathhouse typed, and deleted.
It's his Akira because every Akira is one he wants to unravel and destroy. It doesn't matter if he thinks Akechi needs saved after surviving an attempted murder by him or if he ends up dead in a cellar.
He sends a message - quick and polite.
I left a gift inside your bedroom this morning - oh, I didn't peek around the room, if you're concerned about that. I wanted to make sure the cats didn't get into it. I have business to attend to most of the day, but-
Perhaps tonight we could take a walk.
And inside the room, pressed against the wall to the right of the door is:
A dagger. A small red notebook made by some shitty gelfling in the town square. Homemade, but durable. A pen rests on top.]
borthday drop off cw: murder
He took him out that day back then - offered to spend time with him, only a week before Akechi would place a bullet into his skull.
They can hardly do that here. This shithole has the amenities of rural peasant town in the 1600s. Dolph's club is the closest thing to Jazz Jin, a place he visits when the music shifts from heart pounding to calming, but-
This is Akira. This isn't his Akira. Akechi acknowledges this Akira, but there's too many missing points between, uncrossed paths, worlds split at the seam where they were once bound.
It's not his Akira, so a sacred spot will remain that way. An offer to take him typed, then deleted. An offer to go to the bathhouse typed, and deleted.
It's his Akira because every Akira is one he wants to unravel and destroy. It doesn't matter if he thinks Akechi needs saved after surviving an attempted murder by him or if he ends up dead in a cellar.
He sends a message - quick and polite.
I left a gift inside your bedroom this morning - oh, I didn't peek around the room, if you're concerned about that. I wanted to make sure the cats didn't get into it. I have business to attend to most of the day, but-
Perhaps tonight we could take a walk.
And inside the room, pressed against the wall to the right of the door is:
A dagger.
A small red notebook made by some shitty gelfling in the town square. Homemade, but durable. A pen rests on top.]