Happy Birthday, Goro Akechi.

June 2nd, 2020.

The urban city lights beamed into the substation as it moved through Japan, being obscured by the circular structure which led to the station's platform up ahead. The window the detective stared through encapsulated a bright blue ocean, which analogous colors flashed variably depending on the lighting of the city. From the railing of the outside, it entered the underground, with no such thing to sight-see on the exterior of the train; the window only reflected the reverse of his image. Noticing the differences between now and 2016, it had been 4 years since his battles with the Phantom Thieves. A now ceased organization that sought to change the hearts of their targets to be more humanitarian towards those they rulers over.With longer hair and a strengthened body, the sleuth departed from the station once the speaker spoke of his arrival at Shibuya. The night breathed air from the tunnel to the deep recesses of the cognitive collective unconscious on where Mementos once was floored. Such powers had left him so long ago, he had no ability to deceive others as well as he used to. The extraction of information from one's shadow proved useful in climbing the corporate ladder, people mistakenly took his ability to know about their personal lives as a result of his detective skills rather than the force he exerted onto their cognitive selves in the deep innards of Mementos.That senior year, the detective dealt with school and work simultaneously. A burden of stress that weighed on his shoulders of the hundreds of coffins he's filled. Relieved of his tasks once his father had his heart changed, that kind of freedom was so rewarding. Something he's basked in since; with an addictive personality, Hedonism ensued. A fag-end dangling off of his lips, in his back pocket a lighter to spark the plug. It was Tuesday dawn, he had woken especially early to see his only friend once again; breathing in and out of the end of his cig, time seemed to have passed relatively quick while he indulged in his tobacco.

Once he was done, he crushed the front-end with his index finger. His leather glove was then brushed above a trashcan with his finger to get rid of unwanted residue. From Shibuya Station to Yongen-Jaya. Exiting the station had him sighing, never did he think he'd miss such an unimportant area; up the staircase and onto the street his friend once lived. Today would be exorbitantly more dreadful, the leader had known his birthday due to years prior; he didn't want today to appear as a celebration of his birthday but a simple potluck between two comrades. Grateful of the cards life dealt him, as he had yet faced judicial consequences for his vitriolic actions. With his left hand holding onto his luggage, inside it containing a gift he'd be hoping Akira would be grateful for. Though his wishes were more of an exchange of conversations and gifts, he'd knew he'd get special treatment for today.

Through the dark spruce wood door, he'd be looking through the glass. The sign in front stating clearly, "CLOSED." Yet, at the sighting of the boy sitting in the stool in front of the bar gave him the invitation to invade. Swaying the door open, a familiar bell ringing above the door's frame. The sound had the black-haired boy gear his head to him. As Akechi approached to sit beside him, he walked through two cups of coffee fully filled. They appeared cold as if they've been there for days, weeks, or months. Bringing the stool out to sit next to Akira, he placed his luggage onto the floor leaning against the bar. Akechi looked forward, presented to him a cup of coffee with heat rising out of it. The back wall which housed the mason jars of coffee seemed visibly dusted, the only one opened was Blue Mountain. Leblanc certainly looked as if no one had been here for a while.

The sleuth's fingers wrapped around the coffee mug to raise it up to his face and sipped from his coffee. His back had groveled forward, with his right arm leaning against the tabletop. His head turned to Akira on his left, "Those cups at the front?" Without any greeting, they'd begun discussion.