#sabazio

☠ - “Yo.. so dude.” There’s a tensed pause as Ryuji glances around. Not exactly sure of this being a public matter yet, this is with his mentor.

And as always, he was a herald of truth.

“Yo, get this, I heard the inside of someone’s ass can literally be effin’ hot enough to hardboil an egg. Y’know if that’s true man?”

         “Hehe! Ryuji-oniichan finds the funniest things!”

The past few years had made her used to clothes that did allow plenty of movements -- even her school uniform wasn’t too bad on that front; formal dresses, especially traditional ones, would yet be the vivacious compromise shattering the monotony of formal blouses suits, or even Shadow Worker clothes. Elegant and unique in its textile and decorations, yet also incredibly debilitating had the necessity to run or fight arisen -- but with the prospect of a calm evening at the country festival, she tried to shoo the thought away.

Tilting her head, eyes pointing at the multitude of lights and colors projecting over them from the temple’s direction, Mitsuru broke the ice:  « At times... I feel it taking my breath away. »  she confessed, exhaling half a sigh. Happy and grateful for the company that’d have allowed her to feel more at ease in public than her maids and bodyguards from the KPS division, she had deemed that a good chance to relax. He might have needed it too. Lately, he had looked overly susceptible at work, as if tired more often, despite his college career proceeding seemingly well; that tiredness, or confusion, didn’t suit him. Those were radical changes an old friend wouldn’t have overlooked. Plus, he happened to be second in command -- it forced them to spend most of the working day together.  « Um, the obi, I referred to the obi --  »  she finished after a pause, pointing at her wrapped abdomen.

Akechi approached the last door at the the end of the hallway. A recent transfer to the area, the nameplate hung artlessly and off kilter from the door of the spare office. Akihiko Sanada - he’d heard the name from Sae originally, a newcomer from afar, assigned by the police department to the Phantom Thieves case. Naturally, a background check was in order.

How curious the results were though. He’d found almost nothing. Almost, but not quite. Copious amounts of flight details. A drifter, perhaps? Somewhat unique amongst the police force but certainly something that could be explained away. Payments. From the Kirijo group, specifically. A group that seemed transient, almost ethereal. They were well known of course, but the only useful information Goro could find related to their use of anti-shadow weapons and a certain... incident.

Truth be told, he didn’t know what he was dealing with. What was hiding behind the mahogany doorway stood in front of him. He’d failed to find any links to that man, but for a company so renowned and multinational that alone was dubious. What kind of power would it take to exist so openly and freely outside of the grasp of Masayoshi Shido. Whilst Akechi knew little about Akihiko Sanada personally, he knew the man could either be a powerful enemy or ally. It was time to find out which.

Goro rapped his knuckles upon the hardwood door, four times exactly - fanning them out a fifth time for flourish. Clearing his throat to announce himself, he spoke clearly, voice resonating in the cramped corridor.

i didn’t get my cooties shot :(

          it’s hard not to think about the end. the fall—  the monumental cataclysmic death of the world as they knew it, especially when ryoji was the one who brought it up. kill him and remember nothing about eventually dying, or don’t and dread living up until the moment of his death. neither option sounded particularly appealing, however, akihiko would be the first to know that he had neither the intention of killing ryoji, nor the intention of dying without a fight. they’d all been scared;  staring down the barrel of a gun had never scared any of them before, but now, it seemed as though the closer to their day of reckoning came, the more his teammates wanted nothing to do with one another, instead wallowing in the pity surrounding death.