"You will," Akira sighs as he looks down at his hands. "If by some instance your fate is any bit similar- even if you want to avoid him; you won't be able to." He says it as if he had personally tried to deny that same fate and he only managed to fare four months of a delay before... Well. Everything.
"Do you?" He raises a brow at Akechi's "warning" and for a moment he wonders if he even realizes who he was challenging. "Go easy on me then, please." He grins- knowing that it will just further fuel the Akechi to rub his face to the ground in some way of showing himself off before actually going easy on him. Always going for the Bullseye, taking no more than five to ten seconds to land his mark and only messing up when Akira was messing with him. The perfect recipe for disaster.
Akira strolls up to the dartboard, picking up the set of darts with a casual air, though his sharp eyes betray a flicker of anticipation. He spins one dart lazily between his fingers as he turns back to Akechi. He doesn’t seem fazed. He’s grinning wide, the type of grin that says he’s walking straight into a storm—and enjoying every second of it.
He hands the darts to Akechi, the gesture smooth and deliberate, as though relinquishing control in a game he’s already planning to upend.
“Alright, Akechi-san,” he says, putting just enough emphasis on the name to make it sound like both a compliment and a jab. “You’re up first. Show me what you’ve got.”
no subject
Well. Everything.
"Do you?" He raises a brow at Akechi's "warning" and for a moment he wonders if he even realizes who he was challenging. "Go easy on me then, please." He grins- knowing that it will just further fuel the Akechi to rub his face to the ground in some way of showing himself off before actually going easy on him. Always going for the Bullseye, taking no more than five to ten seconds to land his mark and only messing up when Akira was messing with him. The perfect recipe for disaster.
Akira strolls up to the dartboard, picking up the set of darts with a casual air, though his sharp eyes betray a flicker of anticipation. He spins one dart lazily between his fingers as he turns back to Akechi. He doesn’t seem fazed. He’s grinning wide, the type of grin that says he’s walking straight into a storm—and enjoying every second of it.
He hands the darts to Akechi, the gesture smooth and deliberate, as though relinquishing control in a game he’s already planning to upend.
“Alright, Akechi-san,” he says, putting just enough emphasis on the name to make it sound like both a compliment and a jab. “You’re up first. Show me what you’ve got.”