[Akira has that, now. he might not have had it before being shipped off to Tokyo (and he hadn't realized he didn't have it until that empty space in his life was occupied by so much warmth), but. . . that wasn't the important part. at least, not in his mind]

[Akira gaze grows kind of distant when Ryuji asks that question, flickering away to focus on a random point on the wall opposite. he shrugs]

I was only there for a day before I got dragged here.

[noooot too long to really soak in the fact that he had been shoved back somewhere he didn't belong]

My parents welcomed me home, but they both had a business event to attend. So dinner on my first night back was kind of on my own.

[. . .]

[in the past, he might not have thought much about it, because wasn't that how all parents were? focused on their careers, driven and ready to succeed? it was an attitude they had tried to foster in their son, and he had been fairly understanding of their casual neglect. they gave him food and shelter, and the things he needed to survive, and wasn't that supposed to be enough?]

[but it's only now, as he says that aloud and contrasts it to the time he spent living at Sojiro's, that he realizes that it's perhaps. . . wasn't]

-- anyway, it wasn't so bad. I've gotten way better at cooking.