—something like Ren stepping out of reach faster than Akechi can blink, perhaps. Or perhaps something like Ren's hands emerging from his pockets, one of them holding a switchknife. He flicks it open with a soft click.

He doesn't move to attack Akechi, but the knife is warning enough, or at least it should be. "Don't touch me." The casual demeanor has vanished like smoke; his voice is flat and implacable. "We can talk without any of that."