[ despite his chosen profession, akira lives a fairly simple life. he travels light, never needs nor wants for much, and everything he's taken has always been returned to their rightful owner. even the compensation for his services seem ridiculously undercharged: in returning her mother's diamond necklace, all he'd asked for in exchange were tools she had in her workshop to sharpen his daggers. other times, he'd take food instead, wine, or even tailored clothing — whatever was conveniently on hand. he never did have the heart to take rupies from those who only had enough to barely make a living.

of course, the feeling of satisfaction of pulling off a successful heist is priceless, so too is the look of sheer joy and relief on their faces when he returns what had been taken. it's an experience he'd never get anywhere else, being able to one-up jyuto in the process is coincidentally a very nice bonus. ]

Maybe a little of both.

[ it's almost romantic, and if akira were the type to feel embarrassed, this is probably where he'd blush. but he isn't; that bit of honesty only brings back that restless feeling again, the idea that jyuto knows what he's thinking only makes him more attracted somehow. though that could be from recalling the softness of jyuto's mouth against his, of his ears beneath his fingers and the shocked look in his eyes. he thinks about that same look under him in a completely different context, of what he'd look like if he kissed him again and didn't stop. ]

And I'm sure none of them would keep breaking into your office to light your cigarettes for you. [ his smile is cheeky, the same one he always has when he gives him the slip. ] Well, I'm glad to be your first.