"Akechi-kun." The brunette tilted her head. "Could we talk? Alone?"
He turned and gave her a confused look. "Of course, but what is this about?" He queried. She said nothing, only motioning for him to follow. (And he did.)
The trip felt long, but they soon reached the theater they used to travel through. Minako's eyes were closed in seemingly bliss, but they shot open a second after Akechi noticed.
She turned to stare at him, to stare into his soul. "Are you afraid?" She asked after a moment of strained silence.
Akechi blinked. That… certainly was not what he was expecting. "Afraid? Of what?" He felt the frown appear on his face, eyes subverting from hers.
"Are you afraid of death?" He felt his jaw slack, and his eyes shot back to her face. She held no hostility, but rather something - some emotion he could not identify.
"I… I can't say that I am. If I may ask, what pushed you to ask me this?" He asked. His chest felt unnaturally tight. He hated it.
"Mmh. I was curious." She pulled out her model gun. It was normal. Perfectly normal. "Your mother. Did she…?" Trailing off, the red-eyed girl tore her eyes away from Akechi's face.
Akechi sighed bitterly. "I don't understand what this has to do with anything right now."
The girl looked back to him, tucking the model away. "Everything. It has everything to do with my question." She took a deep breath. "I wanted to see if having a loved one die had any effect on one's concept of mortality. And… I suppose it does."
He frowned again. "Did you…?" She shook her head. "Not to suicide, no. It was an accident."
An awkward silence passed between them. "I apologize," Akechi spoke up. "It was rude for me to ask." The girl gave him a confused look. "Don't be. I've come to terms with it. And my own mortality."
Another moment of silence. "We should… return to the others."
She nodded. "I agree."