He has his customary, reflexive stiffened posture when he first catches sight of Skulduggery, though he relaxes again almost immediately after. Everything about Skul is just so biologically wrong that Akito's instincts can't help but force him to be on edge. Likely an evolutionary quirk. Or just a sign that he's innately aware that skeletons shouldn't be living.

"Skulduggery, hi," he greets, tongue stumbling over the name and causing him to furrow his brows in irritation, but otherwise not acknowledge it. It's been a while since he had reason to say the skeleton-man's full name. "I finished the first portion sooner than I thought, so I have time before my evening deliveries."

Akito is glad for the time as well, considering how quickly he's been running out of notebooks. He keeps painstaking, coded notes about each and every one of his deliveries, then uses up notebooks too quickly when doing his assigned homework. And then even more notebooks get used up with blueprint designs or recreational drawing.