Her fingers brushed the ribbon on the gift box, movements stiff as she undid it, revealing two bottles of simply packaged sake, the glass etched with faint sakura patterns.
"Bought it on a whim last time."
Mado Akira deliberately kept her tone light, avoiding his gaze while setting the bottles in the center of the table, the tips of her ears flushing red.
"Low proof, just to cleanse the palate."
In truth, she'd searched for hours for a "thank-you" sake, only for Akuto to never even open it.
She laid chopsticks and bowls with brisk, perfect order—every Investigator's habit—yet her fingers hesitated an instant when they touched the cups.
Leaning back on the sofa, Akuto watched the sequence of contradictory motions and drawled. "Cooking for me and opening wine—Second Class Investigator Mado, are you trying to make peace?"
"Who wants peace with you!" Akira snapped her head up, glare cold but no longer razor-sharp.
"I cooked because you helped me; a debt gets repaid bite by bite. The wine would've gone to waste, that's all."
She grasped the bottle, clumsily twisted the cap; a crisp sake scent drifted out.
"And while we eat you'll explain what happened with my father. Assaulting an Investigator is a serious crime, no changing the subject."
Her pour was steady, the clear liquid sliding down the cup's wall, releasing a faint aroma.
She slid the cup toward him, poured half a cup for herself, but only gripped the rim, knuckles whitening.
Silently she calculated. First hear his side; if it was self-defense, the clash could be written off.
If he'd provoked it on purpose, once the meal ended the reckoning would still come. Yet looking at the steaming dishes and smelling the light sake, Akira felt something soften inside her.
It was a strange sensation.
It made her want to yawn, leaving her oddly limp.
The feeling flickered and vanished.
"Eat."
Akira turned her face away, urging.
"The food's getting cold." Impatient words, but the hostility in her eyes had faded, replaced by a complicated emotion she refused to name.
Akuto lifted his chopsticks and tasted them.
The flavor was excellent.
He sipped the sake; the alcohol stung his nose. It had been ages since he'd tasted liquor.
Owing a favor by his palate, Akuto decided to explain. If Akira had burst into shouting, he might've thrown the first punch.
But she had, after all, gone to considerable trouble.
"I killed Nishio Nishio; your father came at me cursing and swinging."
Akira fell silent.
She knew her father—if he'd tagged Akuto as a Ghoul, that was already restrained.
"Why didn't you explain?"
"It could have been avoided."
She was still thinking in her neat Investigator logic.
"Why should I explain?"
Akuto's counter froze her; she couldn't understand.
One sentence could have cleared it up—why escalate to violence?
And they were both human, weren't they?
Something seemed to click; Akuto smiled.
"A moth sees the light from your phone and dives. Do you need to explain it to the moth?"
"Telling it that your phone isn't the moon?"
"Which is easier—explaining to the moth convinced your phone is moonlight, or swatting it dead?"
Watching her shift from puzzlement to shock, Akuto shrugged. "To me, you. Ghoul, human, or stray dog, insect—are all the same."
"The weak don't merit an explanation."
"A slap is faster."
[Role-playing Degree increased.]
[Current Role-playing Degree: 15%.]
The doubts in Akuto's mind cleared.
The rise wasn't a stat boost; it mirrored his shifting mindset. At this moment, as he said, his eyes no longer registered human, ghoul, man, or woman.
Only strong or weak, useful or useless.
And Sukuna had always been exactly that.
Across the table, Akira stared blankly at the dishes. By Akuto's logic, she realized she now owed him another inexplicable favor.
She didn't think he was lying.
The guy flipped faster than a book page.
"So the instant Father attacked, in his eyes Father was just a weakling unworthy of a single extra word?" Akira discovered Akuto was purer than she'd imagined.
His world held only the strong and the weak. That he hadn't killed Mado Kureo then must have been a restraint for her sake.
Understanding dissolved the last of her resentment. She'd overcomplicated things. Akuto's mind was simpler than expected, his limbs more capable.
For no reason, a silverback gorilla popped into her head. The corner of Akira's mouth twitched in a suppressed, bizarre smile she quickly crushed.
She raised her cup, voice trembling with forced solemnity. "I apologize for my father's offense; he caused you trouble."
Akuto was magnanimous, after all, they'd already fought.
He opened the last bottle, but it suddenly popped, making the sake inside spill onto him making him drenched and wet.
Akira's expression turned odd; after swallowing her mouth twitched, her face flushing scarlet. "Pfft—!"
Akuto was drenched, staring in shock. "What the hell?"
Akira's face burned, shoulders shaking. "I'm sorry– pfft-hahaha!"
She burst into uncontrolled laughter.
However Akuto interpreted it, it felt deeply malicious.
When her giggles subsided she tossed him the towel from the sofa.
Akuto wiped his face with a sullen glare.
Round after round, dish after dish.
Before they knew it both bottles were empty.
Their eyes unfocused.
"I really envy you simple-minded types."
Akira swayed, cup in hand, gaze drifting.
Akuto's face darkened.
He glanced at the window, weighing the odds of pitching the drunk out.
"I've always cared… cared so much."
"My hatred meant nothing to you, my life belittled, my goals denied!"
"I… hic… I hate you!"
"Do you hear me? I hate you…"
"You don't understand! You've never had a relative eaten by a ghoul… hic… so you don't get it!"
Akuto pushed the leaning Akira away. "So you decide the world owes you?"
"Bull!" Akira straightened. "What if a ghoul killed your family?"
"Hic… you don't seem to have any."
"If… if a ghoul killed me? Would you rage? Would you hate ghouls?"