Chapter Text
“Let me ask you a question, Kurusu.” Akechi said, as if it was just a fact that would happen no matter what. Forceful yet polite, what he was known for of course.
“Only if I get to ask you one in return. I’ve been itching to ask you, yknow.” Akira responded. To that, Akechi raised an eyebrow.
“Oh? How intriguing. Alright, I suppose. My question is very simple- Are you afraid to die?” An edge crept into Akechi’s tone that would be described as unnatural to most.
“No.” Akira answered, simply and quickly, surprising the detective. Although, when had Akira ever failed to do that?
“My, that was a quick answer. You think about it often then, I gather?”
“Not at all. I know I’m going to die one day, and it’ll probably be my fault, because I’m stubborn and get myself into a lot of problems.” He stated bluntly. “I’m not afraid of death. I'm just scared that my death will be meaningless. I want to accomplish something, even if it’s small.”
Akechi inwardly coiled back at the answer. What an idiot. Only a true fool would admit fear in front of the enemy. Perhaps he was wrong about Akira, and he was simply an idiot with melodic words.
“How honorable. If you wouldn’t mind if I elaborated, I must ask if you are afraid to be killed.”
“No. It’s most likely that will be the cause anyway. I’ve made a lot of enemies.” Akira smirked at Akechi, coy and teasing, like he knew something that Akechi didn’t. The thought made him want to vomit. “Who knows? Even you could be planning my murder this very instant.”
“I’m sure your death would be interesting by my hand.” Akechi responded like clockwork, making sure no suspicion was making its way into his tone.
“Same here. I think it’d be a fun experience. Now, I believe you owe me a question.”
“Ah, of course. Ask away.” Akechi obliged, happy to get away from the topic of the dead man walking’s potential murderer.
“Your gloves.” Akira pointed. “I’ve never seen you without them. Why?”
“Hm. I suppose I wear them for professionalism. It’s not as if I have anything to hide. I quite like them, is all.” Akechi answered surprisingly easily. The gloves were something he didn’t often notice, though they had always been a comfort to him.
“You can answer no, of course, but could you take them off?” Akechi’s eyes widened at this. Why? What was his motive? Was he trying to get a fingerprint? What did he want?
“What an odd request. May I ask for the reason?”
Akira shrugged. “I’m just curious.”