[And that, too, takes Akira by surprise, because there's an uncustomary hint of want in that statement, an ache so quiet and yet loud to Akira's ears.
Of course. How could he be so rude.
Akira nods, taking his own mug again in hand.]
Yeah. Of course.
[He smiles again, just before he takes a sip. He could go sit with Akechi at a booth, but... there's something so familiar about this: him, behind the counter, and Akechi, perched on his usual stool.
It's nice, to have this again. Not just from Chroma, but from before... During those cold days in December, he'd look at the empty stool, and ache, and wonder.]
Like old times.
[And he can't help it; a note of melancholy slips treacherously into his voice.]
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Of course. How could he be so rude.
Akira nods, taking his own mug again in hand.]
Yeah. Of course.
[He smiles again, just before he takes a sip. He could go sit with Akechi at a booth, but... there's something so familiar about this: him, behind the counter, and Akechi, perched on his usual stool.
It's nice, to have this again. Not just from Chroma, but from before... During those cold days in December, he'd look at the empty stool, and ache, and wonder.]
Like old times.
[And he can't help it; a note of melancholy slips treacherously into his voice.]