...If Frog doesn't want him to leave, then why not? "...Thanks," he says carefully. He sits at the counter, experiencing a strange, brief surge of vertigo at the feeling of being on this side of it, and sets out the bag he brought to hold the coffee beans. It's a decent size.
He watches Frog from behind his hair, waiting for him to say what he wants.
But Goro doesn't ask, just thanks him for the bag and fills it from the jar. He doesn't even weigh the beans; what would be the point? "Ah, what's your coffee preference, by the way?"
Twisting the corners of the bag with unsurprising dexterity, he hands it back across. He has a little bet with himself that it will be something unadventurous and unrevealing, because Amamiya looks like he feels every kilo of air pressure bearing down on him. Like he's dragging the knowledge of what he did behind him on a chain.
And, indeed, Ren says, "...The house blend. Believe it or not." The self-deprecation in his voice could almost sound familiar, wry and amused like the dark humor Frog's Ren sometimes employs, but it's not the same. The levity is absent.
And, not as pleased to have been correct as he would have liked to be, Goro offers another, smaller smile, touched by something deeper. "Coming right up. It is a good blend, compared to some I've had. But then, Leblanc's coffee always put everywhere else to shame. No credit to me, of course."
It's weird to see an Akechi behind the counter, talking quietly the way a barista does. The way Ren himself used to, before it stopped mattering whether he said anything or not. He props his chin in his palm, elbow on the counter, and watches. "Do you do this a lot? Here, I mean. Just wait behind the counter in case someone comes by?"
He doesn't sound critical. If anything, there's a bit of a wistful tone to his voice.
Yeah, there's no mistaking that wistfulness. "I do. It's not the real place, of course, and customers areāirregular. But Leblanc is special. A few others share the counter, you know. Trickster likes to. Drake is picking it up."
Goro considers Amamiya, with the grinder in his hands. "Why don't you come back here, if you like? You look like somebody who knows coffee. I'll put your curry together."
A shadow passes over Ren's expression at the mention of Drake. He's one of the few people here who's not just kind to Akechi but interested in him as a person, but the things he said to Ren...
Well, it doesn't matter. He gives Frog a sidelong look, suspicious of his motives, but he can't think of a way that making coffee could be twisted against him. "...Okay. Thanks."
He slides down from his stool again and heads behind the counter. He hesitates for a moment by the aprons—then his chin sets stubbornly, and he takes one and pulls it over his head.
"Looks good on you," he murmurs, turning away to give the curry a stir. The familiar smell fills the kitchen as he removes the lid, no different to any Leblanc in any number of worlds. But you could never mistake the other Rens for his own. Pride burns in his heart at the thought.
... no more than you could mistake this Ren, Sparrow's Ren, for any of the others. Drake is not shy about his friendship with Sparrow, and clearly he hasn't been in any other regard.
He raises his eyebrows from the stove, at that spark of life. "I can see why you'd call it that. The way I hear it, not many people talk to you. But the way I see it, Leblanc's not my property. It belongs to all of us."
Difficult or not, he knows what Leblanc means to him, and what he's seen it mean to more than one Ren besides this one.
"At least," he adds, attempting to break the mood, "until Boss shows up. He wouldn't know if he was coming or going."
Ren winces. What would Sojiro even think of him, if he knew? If he was in his right mind? He usually tries not to think about it.
"I wonder that sometimes," he offers hesitantly, feeling his way. Making conversation with someone who's all there and wants to talk to him feels like stretching an atrophied muscle. "Like... if Boss shows up, or Lala-chan. Or Crow's dad. We've taken all their places."
"It's a puzzle, isn't it?" Lidding the pot, he watches Amamiya feel his way around. "Almost nobody past a certain age has come here. And of those few, they almost all have Personas. All but one."
And that one is his mother, of courseāor, more or less; even he finds her uncomfortable. "If they did show up, in a way, we'd have to be the adults. They'd be powerless in this atmosphere of threat. Imagine Chihaya, for example."
He thinks of Chihaya Mifune as a little sister, despite the small gap in their ages. She has strength she doesn't know, yet at the same time she's so... well, there's a reason she's one of his favourite confidants.
His mouth twists at the corner in a strange, sad way, as he finds new depths in Amamiya's point. Wasn't that always how it was, for him? Almost from the womb, he'd been the adult, hadn't he?
"You're not wrong," he murmurs, watching Amamiya bow his head. "Listen, if you don't want to make the coffee, I can do it?"
Damn. He tried to show the guy a welcome, and it's just backfired. Well, someone with his damage would be hard to help, wouldn't he? He turns to the rice cooker, scooping out fresh rice onto the plate, just as he was taught.
"Maybe it's why we become what we do," he muses aloud, watching Amamiya from the corner of his eye. "Why choose somebody not used to responsibility? As if you can ask no end of things of a person."
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He watches Frog from behind his hair, waiting for him to say what he wants.
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Twisting the corners of the bag with unsurprising dexterity, he hands it back across. He has a little bet with himself that it will be something unadventurous and unrevealing, because Amamiya looks like he feels every kilo of air pressure bearing down on him. Like he's dragging the knowledge of what he did behind him on a chain.
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It's weird to see an Akechi behind the counter, talking quietly the way a barista does. The way Ren himself used to, before it stopped mattering whether he said anything or not. He props his chin in his palm, elbow on the counter, and watches. "Do you do this a lot? Here, I mean. Just wait behind the counter in case someone comes by?"
He doesn't sound critical. If anything, there's a bit of a wistful tone to his voice.
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Goro considers Amamiya, with the grinder in his hands. "Why don't you come back here, if you like? You look like somebody who knows coffee. I'll put your curry together."
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Well, it doesn't matter. He gives Frog a sidelong look, suspicious of his motives, but he can't think of a way that making coffee could be twisted against him. "...Okay. Thanks."
He slides down from his stool again and heads behind the counter. He hesitates for a moment by the aprons—then his chin sets stubbornly, and he takes one and pulls it over his head.
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... no more than you could mistake this Ren, Sparrow's Ren, for any of the others. Drake is not shy about his friendship with Sparrow, and clearly he hasn't been in any other regard.
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"Is this some kind of pity thing?"
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Difficult or not, he knows what Leblanc means to him, and what he's seen it mean to more than one Ren besides this one.
"At least," he adds, attempting to break the mood, "until Boss shows up. He wouldn't know if he was coming or going."
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"I wonder that sometimes," he offers hesitantly, feeling his way. Making conversation with someone who's all there and wants to talk to him feels like stretching an atrophied muscle. "Like... if Boss shows up, or Lala-chan. Or Crow's dad. We've taken all their places."
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And that one is his mother, of courseāor, more or less; even he finds her uncomfortable. "If they did show up, in a way, we'd have to be the adults. They'd be powerless in this atmosphere of threat. Imagine Chihaya, for example."
He thinks of Chihaya Mifune as a little sister, despite the small gap in their ages. She has strength she doesn't know, yet at the same time she's so... well, there's a reason she's one of his favourite confidants.
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It's not untrue. But he wouldn't have said it like that, at the time.
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"You're not wrong," he murmurs, watching Amamiya bow his head. "Listen, if you don't want to make the coffee, I can do it?"
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"Maybe it's why we become what we do," he muses aloud, watching Amamiya from the corner of his eye. "Why choose somebody not used to responsibility? As if you can ask no end of things of a person."