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Summary
“Finally,” Akechi breathed, and Akira felt the earth warp under his feet and his heavy jacket settled around his shoulders. The stench of the air reminded him that they were surrounded by the worst of humanity’s desires, coalescing into the space the subway offered to hold them. Akira straightened up and settled the jacket more comfortably around his shoulders, and the mask higher up in his nose. He turned to see Akechi doing the same, patting out the imaginary dust on his princely outfit.
“Alright Akechi,” Akira said. “What did you want to discuss with me?”
“This,” Akechi said, and then leveled a gun straight at Akira’s head.