Chapter Text
“I just don’t know where you get your audacity from,” Jun said as his fingers toyed with the lip of his coffee cup. He held his head high and a sly glint caught Akira’s eye. Akira returned it with a lopsided grin. He hoped it came off as confident. Maybe more cocky.
With how quickly Jun lost the demeanor to a chuckle, Akira assumed it was the later. It was satisfying. Tatsuya snorted in resignation just behind them.
It was nice to spend a day like this. The sun was high and the streets were lively. Although the ever present sense of exhaustion on Jun and the deep set crease of worry in Tatsuya’s brow had persisted since the year nearly began, today they were smiling. They fussed over Akira’s new bandages yesterday. Everything would heal eventually. It was his confidence that settled it.
For now, they could just be a regular family again. Even so, Akira couldn’t ignore that something was bothering Tatsuya. It had been evident since the night before. The silence lingering over him wasn’t his.
Akira wondered if Jun sensed it as well. He must. It was hard to imagine he hadn’t. With that specific patience he’d been giving Tatsuya all day, it seemed all the evidence Akira needed. Tatsuya would talk eventually. It still settled wrong because Akira couldn’t think of a reason for him to be fretting. Besides the obvious.
Akira took a decisive sip of his black coffee as they continued down the street.
“That Phantom Thief is still alive?” Eavesdropping is such a bad habit. Akira kept listening to the chatter around them as he walked beside his dad, “Is that for real?”
“They must be lying. There’s no proof.”
“What if what those Phantom Thieves said was true?”
“Shido-san denied it all… Maybe it was just a rumor made up by those Phantom Thieves.”
Akira’s fingers tapped against his paper cup. He could feel Jun’s eyes on him, but he waved it off. Instead, they stopped by the crepe shop and waited for Tatsuya to catch up. He was still distracted, and trying to hide it. Jun just smiled patiently.
“How long do you think he’ll be sick for?” Tatsuya asked once he was caught up. It wasn’t what was truly on his mind, but he was talking.
Considering almost half of the conversations Akira had eavesdropped on just this afternoon were talking about Shido in some capacity, he didn’t feel the need to particularly hide their conversation. It was on everyone’s mind.
“Ah… If the past is anything to go by… a few days,” Akira answered. Tatsuya accepted it and took a sip of his coffee. It made Akira’s teeth ache knowing just how much sugar he put in it. “We tried to aim it before the elections, so hopefully we’ll hear a confession before then.”
Both his parents considered that answer. Jun sighed as he tossed his empty cup in a nearby trash can. Akira wondered what it could have been like to involve them more. He took one last sip of his coffee before he discarded his as well.
“No matter what comes, Akira,” Jun started, slipping his hands deep into the pockets of his dark coat. That playful glint was gone, replaced by something sincere. It held Akira’s attention. He trusted that look. “We’re here for you.”
There was a lot Akira still worried over. He knew those concerns would be plaguing him even after the inevitable confession. He’d cross the bridge when he got there. For now, nothing was expected of him. He’s just their son and he wanted to spend one day not feeling like he was walking a tightrope.
Jun’s smile softened. Akira thought he might understand. Out of anyone, maybe he did. Akira reached up and his fingers sought out the small glass vial inside of jacket pocket. The small, soft petals of the coltsfoot brushed his fingers.
“Enough of that,” Jun said, “There were a few other places you wanted to show us, correct?”
“Ah. Yeah. Let’s go.”
Akira didn’t know how familiar his parents were with Tokyo. They didn’t seem to mind the wandering, and they melded into the hectic thrum of city life. Akira sometimes forgot they had grown up in this kind of environment.
People were still talking and gossiping around them. For once, Akira was actively trying to tune it out. It might have been why he hadn’t noticed Tatsuya hadn’t joined them at frist. Akira was already a few steps towards the movie theater before Jun’s hand on his sleeve caught his attention. Down by the side street that lead to an all too familiar back alley, Tatsuya’s shoulders were stiff. He was fixated on something just out of sight. It hadn’t been simple curiosity, but concerned bewilderment.
“Jun,” he called. Jun immediately went to him. Akira felt as though some secret he had kept was going to be exposed. His heart pounded as his parents both looked down the alley. Jun’s eyes were wide.
“That’s…”
“I… thought I saw something yesterday,” Akira heard Tatsuya say to Jun, low and hushed. “In the crowd. During the hijack, but… I wasn’t sure.”
Jun’s hand ran along Tatsuya’s arm as he stared down the alleyway. Akira wasn’t sure what it meant, or what it could even mean. Then he remembered just the past summer.
It was like a pull of strings that guided Jun to step forward. Akira immediately followed. When he turned the corner, Jun was staring up at the large iron bars, soaked in the deep blue iridescent glow from within. At Akira’s side, Tatsuya rubbed a hand over his mouth.
“So you know Igor.”
Akira looked to Tatsuya. His voice was caught in his throat. They both caught Jun’s attention and he looked back. There was almost excitement in the way he looked between the two, but a twinge of concern damped it. The tip of Akira’s shoe tapped anxiously against the back of his other.
“You know him too, then,” Akira responded. Tatsuya stared a few heartbeats before his shoulders finally relaxed a little.
“It’s been a long time.”
“I didn’t think this existed anymore,” Jun said as he stepped forward towards them. “Not after everything. I don’t know why I hadn’t considered it sooner.”
It felt bizarre. They had both known about the space between and yet Igor’s words from all those months ago rung in Akira’s mind. Akira wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask first.
“Why does it look like that?”
Once again, Tatsuya caught him off guard. He scratched at cheek as he looked towards the iron gate a few meters away. Stubble was starting to grow in from the week he’d been away from home. Akira looked back to door.
“It… just does,” he answered. There wasn’t much else to offer. For so long, he had wondered that himself, yet Igor’s explanation seemed satisfactory enough. It was as logical as anything else that happened in that strange space.
The answer hadn’t seemed to satisfy either of his parents.
Tatsuya stepped forward, hands dug deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. His brows were furrowed as he slowly circled the door, sharp eyes scanning up and down the dark iron and blue radiant light. Jun watched him just as intently.
“…Igor said the Velvet Room takes the shape of the guest’s heart,” Akira finally offered as he stood beside Jun. He caught the way Tatsuya’s eyes shifted toward him briefly at that. His look was heavy. Jun’s arms crossed over his chest as he listened. Akira tried to take a subtle breath to calm his heart. “What was it for you, then?”
Akira felt Jun turn his way, but Akira made a point to keep watching Tatsuya’s examination. He was looking for something and Akira was curious as to what.
“A lounge.” Tatsuya was the one to supply the answer. His hand tentatively reached out and touched one of the bars. Nothing happened.
“I supposed it made sense,” Jun continued. He finally pulled his gaze away and watched Tatsuya himself. “We spent days running around the city, though fabricated labyrinths people made real. I admit, whenever we visited, it was always a pleasant break. A little reprieve from the hectic and mad rush we were all in.” A soft, nostalgic look crossed Jun’s eyes. It hadn’t lingered, however.
Akira could feel the heavy look on him again. His hand gripped the strap of his bag a little tighter.
“Akira…”
He already knew what he was going to ask.
“Why does it look like that?”
He really didn’t know the answer. Jun seemed to get the idea. He didn’t press and instead reached out and let his hand rest on Akira’s shoulder. His thumb rubbed at the tension and Akira let his shoulders relax. Akira caught a glimpse of guilt in Jun’s eyes before he looked up to Tatsuya. He finally stepped away from the iron gate.
“There’s no way in,” he said. Confusion is prominent in the way he’s looking at Akira, but it wasn’t expectant. It was just honest.
It was curious, though.
“I’m not sure why, but they’re not here right now.”
“‘They’?” Jun asked.
This wasn’t a topic Akira was used to discussing. It had all just become so commonplace in his life, explaining it suddenly made him consider the situation.
“Ah… There are these twins. They’re his assistants and they’re playing this role as wardens. They help me manage my Personas.”
The confused look on both of Tatsuya and Jun’s faces settled wrong in Akira’s stomach. It felt like he was floundering, justifying himself and the situation.
“He doesn’t do that?”
Akira thought that was an odd thing to ask.
“He never did. Not really.”
Jun shared a look with Tatsuya, and that knot in Akira’s stomach grew heavier and more snarled. The two settled on something just out of Akira’s grasp.
“Odd,” is all Jun offered.
“You can’t go in on your own,” Tatsuya finally said, sounding like the realization just hit him. Akira’s foot anxiously tapped the back of his other shoe again. Jun watched intently.
“That’s right.”
“So, we wouldn’t be able to get in and see him.”
Akira let his gaze fall back to the imposing iron gate just behind his parents. His brows furrowed as he recalled what Igor had said to him just last night. His rehabilitation was almost complete, he had said. As long as nothing happened, it would all be over soon. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t caught it sooner, but he supposed the lack of comparison was the culprit.
His parents were speaking as though Igor was an old friend. Akira never was particularly happy or eager to visit. Despite his appearance, it was his eyes that troubled him the most. They were always staring, boring into him from behind that little desk. Akira did not consider him a friend. What was it that his parents saw in him that Akira wasn’t seeing? The circumstances have changed since years ago, yet could that strange man have changed so much because of that as well?
“It’s a shame,” Jun sighed. Akira heard the undertone in it clear as day. It wasn’t directed completely towards the inability of seeing an old friend.
Akira truly cannot get in on his own, and there was no sign of either of the twin wardens around. There’s no point lingering in a back alley side street, and everyone seemed to get the idea as well.
Despite their insistence otherwise, this truly was just a game to them, Akira realized. His gray eyes lingered on that door as he turned to leave the alley. He’d play along just a little longer.