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Something was wrong with their group.
It wasn’t like...a power struggle or any of that shit. Joker was their leader, plain and simple. Even Morgana understood that. And, for once, no one was breathing down their necks, trying to kill them, trying to frame them. By Phantom Thief standards everything was downright peachy.
Naw, it was more uh...subtle than all that.
Ryuji would never lay claim to being the brightest kid in school. He wasn’t. Makoto and, to a greater extent, Futaba had them all licked in that department. He played to his other strengths: his instincts. Ryuji had a good feel for people.
Right now, he got the sense his best friend was going through some shit.
It’d all started right before summer vacation. Akira’d been normal at school, blowing through exams, easy as you liked. And then the next morning. Whammo! Depression city. The kid had sulked his way through the mall, dark bags rimming his eyes. He hadn’t wanted to talk about the Phantom Thieves. He hadn’t wanted to hang out at the arcade. The only time he’d really perked up was when they’d stopped for ramen. He’d asked for extra beef, extra everything; that shit was a cry for help if ever he’d seen one.
Course, he hadn’t known how to lighten the mood. Comforting another dude was like...well, there were certain ways to go about that, you know, certain protocols, and Ryuji wasn’t sure how to approach the issue. Akira was strong; he figured he’d work things out. They’d headed into Memento’s, dealt out some justice, vented some aggression, and everything had gone back to normal.
The next bit of the puzzle had hit near the end of July. They’d all been bundles of nervous energy but there was Akira. Smiling as wide as you liked, just fuckin’ beaming even with Medjed breathing down their necks. The kid was weird. He’d looked even weirder grinning but...eh. They’d been preoccupied.
Then Akira had abandoned him in Hawaii.
Hell, he’d ducked off almost every Friday and Saturday night for months now. Even Ryuji knew that shit wasn’t business as usual. Their leader was hiding something. Or, more likely, someone.
“You guys don’t think it’s weird?” He picked at his teeth, pivoting on one of LeBlanc’s old bar stools. The coffee house was, as per the norm, empty. He liked the place anyway. Something vaguely spicy always clung to the air. And hell, coffee was disgusting and bitter, but the smell was nice enough. Made everything feel a bit more cozy. The rest of the gang stared back. They didn’t believe him.
No one ever believed him. Ann huffed, leaning back in her seat, whipping a bit of blond hair out of her eyes. It was the kind of dramatic gesture you only ever saw in the movies; somehow she made it work. “You’re just snooping, Ryuji. C’mon.”
Makoto frowned, “I fail to see how it’s any of our business.”
“Man, it is our business! I mean he’s like...he’s holdin’ out on us.” He crossed his arms over his chest, favoring each of them with an arch look, “We’re the Phantom Thieves, guys. No secrets.”
He didn’t get a response, just more silence. Yusuke stood. It was a hell of a thing watching the other guy move. Something about it was never quite right, like the movements were so fluid stopped being graceful and started looking eerie. He crossed his arms over his chest, voice low, “I must admit, his behavior over the summer was troubling. He seemed in quite the rush to escort me back to the station every evening.”
“Friday’s and Saturday?”
“Indeed.”
He levelled an accusative finger at the other boy, “C’mon, guys, Yusuke thinks it’s weird. The guy wandered around with lobsters all day. He thinks it’s weird. No alarms going off?”
“I will admit. His schedule seems strange…”
Ann shook her head, “It doesn’t matter. It’s his life. So he doesn’t want to spend his weekends with you two weirdos. Neither do most people.”
“Soundin’ pretty accusative over there, Takamaki.”
“You’re an idiot, Ryuji.” The rest of those assholes nodded in agreement.
Bastards. He threw a glance over his shoulder, eyeing the door. Their fearless leader would be back with take-out pretty quick now. It meant the discussion was over. Nobody else was willing to see the truth. Or at least, they weren’t willing to do anything about it. Someone out in the street was whistling. Boss, most likely. He’d gone off too, insisting his ward needed another pair of hands. Ryuji leaned forward in his seat, the answer gritted out, “You guys watch. I’m gonna get to the bottom of this. Don’t need you.”
The blond snickered, smirking at him in that way that never failed to make him feel like an idiot, “Sure you don’t.”
He didn’t get to respond. Akira pushed into the cafe, arms full of food, and they let the subject drop.
Didn’t matter. He’d solve this shit all on his own.
______
Even after she’d quick her job with the maid service they’d stuck to the same schedule. Friday and Saturday nights, Kawakami was free to sneak over to his place. They’d find some shady little dinner to steal away in for the evening or see a movie. The theater near LeBlanc was old and empty enough for them to visit without issues.
It’d shocked him when he’d looked down at his phone and found a text. It was just after four on a Wednesday. She’d finished her work early and wondered if he wanted to go someplace together. Somewhere memorable, she'd said. The Seaside Park wasn’t the most romantic spot in the world but it’d been the first thing that’d popped into his head. The crowds were still thick this time of year. No one would notice them. She was game and that was all that mattered.
Sadayo waved at him, already waiting near the park entrance, her yellow shirt easy to pick out of the crowd. He shook his head, hiding a smile behind his hand. She hadn’t bothered to change. For whatever reason the woman felt more comfortably in the baggy, unflattering getup. She smoothed her hands down the front of her jean skirt, glancing around, before taking a step towards him. Sadayo surveyed the park, an absent expression on her face. It made her look younger, “You know. I’ve lived in the city for years now. I can’t remember ever coming down here.” She sighed, shrugging her shoulders, “Just too busy, I guess.”
“You’re here now.”
Kawakami nodded. She hummed, the soft sound drowned out by the cacophony surrounding them: screaming children, a hundred different conversations, all at once. She stepped closer, leaning into his side. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of how damn soft she was, “Thank you for inviting me. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
He wished he could kiss her. Something on her face said she felt the same.
Just wasn’t in the cards. Not for another year at least. Akira nodded, running a hand through his hair, tipping his head to the park, “You must have a most wanted list then. Ride the ferris wheel, win a bear?”
She shook her head. She had pretty eyes, a warm brown that only looked right when they were alone together like this, “Whatever Master wants.”
Akira rolled his eyes, holding his arm out to her.
Sometimes it was better not to push.
______
Way he figured it, there was a limited pool of candidates Akira was working from. He’d been in town for a couple months, sure, but. He’d never strayed far from home. Most of his time was spent at school or with the Phantom Thieves and Boss watched him like a hawk. If he’d been sneaking off to the far reaches of the city, they’d have heard something about it.
That meant she was local.
He thought about asking Sojiro. Guy had a mind on him like a steel trap and he liked to talk. Especially about girls. If he knew about Akira’s new friend, he’d spill the beans. He’d decided against it just as quickly. Was a double edged sword, see. If he didn’t know anything, he’d report right back to the kid in question.
Then where would he be? Dead in the water.
Naw, Morgana was a much safer bet. The cat didn’t know how to shut up, for one. He hung around with Akira almost constantly. He was easy to read, too, which made things a lot simpler. Ryuji paced the length of the attic. It was a shit hole, honestly. His bud had started decorating, adding some touches of his own. If anything, it’d just made the situation worse. Nothing screamed teenage boy like a mishmash of modern art, action figures, and a fuckin’ chocolate fountain. He shook his head.
The sound of the television drifted up the stairs. Boss was watching the evening news. He could just pick out two words. Phantom Thief's, heroes, the usual shit. People were singing their praises now. That was nice; the silence in the loft was better. Akira was out again. Just left him and the cat. Morgana glared, making some big show of cleaning his paw.
It was no big secret that the feline wasn’t his biggest fan. For once, that might work in his favor. Made it easier to get him worked up. Ryuji tapped a finger against his jaw, humming to himself. “It’s Ann, ain’t it?”
It wasn’t Ann. Takamaki couldn’t tell a lie if her life depended on it and she hadn’t so much as blinked when he’d pressed her earlier. Morgana hissed, like, actually hissed at him, sitting back on his haunches and holding his head high. Cats were snotty little shits by nature but Morgana took it to the next level, “How dare you drag Lady Ann’s name through the mud.”
“Ain’t dragging, just a question. Figured...you live with him, right? Must know something.”
The little mew sounded dangerously close to laughter, “I know plenty, Ryuji.”
I know more than you, was what the little clown meant. He crossed his arms over his chest, glancing around the room. “Funny he left you here, though. Doesn’t he usually tote you around?” Morgana shifted, those unnaturally blue eyes darting to the side. He’d hit a nerve. He levelled the animal with an accusative finger, “He’s with her now, ain’t he? Oh, yeah. And he didn’t bring you along.”
“S...shut up. I just…” he paused, searching for his voice. Morgana had an easy tell. He was easy to rile. When you managed to get him worked up, he got all high and squeaky. He tended to say shit he’d regret. “It’s human stuff. He didn’t need me around.”
“You know her name, cat?”
“I know her name, ape.”
“She one of ours?”
“You’re boring me, Ryuji,” and sure, he yawned but it wasn’t quite convincing, ya know? It didn’t have the same vitriol and fight behind it. That meant he’d hit the nail on the head. It wasn’t one of their girls.
It didn’t exactly narrow shit down but it felt like progress.
____
The night had gone better than he’d hoped. Sadayo had relaxed after he’d got some food in her. It was just greasy carnival junk but it got the job done. They shared an ice cream and it’d been pretty damn near perfect. She didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, she confessed, but. Nights like this, when the air was still too warm, so muggy it was almost thick, you almost couldn’t avoid wanting something frozen, cold. Her dad had always bought her a cone and he’d treated himself to a beer.
“Never heard you talk about your parents before.”
It felt big. As a rule, they’d kept their conversations pointedly neutral. Not a lot of history, no big moments. They’d been dating a few months now and things had finally started relaxing. Sadayo was painfully aware of their age difference. He knew it left her feeling guilty. As soon as she remembered, she’d back away from him. The woman shrugged her shoulders, staring out over the water. She had to turn the cone every so often now to keep the thing from dripping down her hand. “I dunno. Just never thought about it, I guess. I mean, everyone has parents, right? You’ve got parents.” She’d stopped then, frowning, “Can I ask? How do they...I mean, are they ok with you being here? It can’t be easy.”
“You’re dripping,” she’d stared at him, expression pointedly blank, until he’d indicated the cone. Beads of vanilla ice cream were now cutting lazy rivulets down her thumb, over the delicate bones of her wrist. He’d grabbed one of the napkins that’d come with their food and motioned for her hand. To his surprise, she went along with it. Akira focused on the her skin, the places they made contact; it made speaking easier, “After the charges they didn’t really have a choice. Where I grew up...it’s a pretty small town. People talk. I don’t think they wanted that for me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she didn’t smile back when he grinned at her, some of that trademark Kawakami guilt playing havoc with her expression. He pressed a quick kiss to the back of her knuckles, “It’s not all bad. I’ve made a lot of friends here. I met you.”
She brushed a nonexistent piece of hair out of her eyes, “I guess that’s...I mean, it’s a silver lining.”
It was worth the whole fucking bank, really. He knew better than to say that. She’d clam up or backpedal, and the rest of their evening would suffer. He just smiled instead, watched her return to her cone. As soon as she finished, she’d been back on her feet, dragging him down the length of the boardwalk.
They stopped at the shooting gallery at his insistence. The kid behind the counter shot him a disbelieving look, holding his hands up when he’d promised to bring home top prize. Even Sadayo flashed him that patronizing brand of smile.
He hadn’t missed a shot and she’d come away from things with an oversized panda. And of all that damn things, she’d just clapped, laughing. If they’d been anywhere else, she might have kissed him. Someone had bumped her shoulder and it’d been enough to call her back to the present.
She waited until the crowd thinned, reaching out to squeeze his hand. Color flooded his cheeks and he didn’t dare to look at her. If he did, he’d say something stupid.
____
Took him a week but he’d managed to narrow down the list of suspects. Akira had managed to sneak off in Hawaii. That meant it was someone at school. Someone in one of their classes, more specifically. Besides that, he’d hit an impasse.
See, the cat had gone ahead and ratted him out.
Almost overnight, every trace of Akira’s relationship had disappeared. He was more present. He made a show of spending the whole day with Yusuke. He took Ann out for crepes. All of Friday? Well, he’d spent that studying with Makoto.
“You’re just delusional,” Takamaki had managed around a mouth full of flan. The girl had taken a liking to the spongy shit. The others were eyeing it with a much more appropriate reservation.
“Man, I’m not delusional. Morgana confirmed it.”
“Ryuji, not that I intend to pick sides,” Miss honor student was speaking slowly, her words carefully bit off. She’d stopped with her fork halfway to the desert. Ann helped her close the distance, snickering. “But your relationship with Morgana is confrontational. Perhaps he was just…leading you on?”
He hated. He hated. That she always made sense. No one had brought it up for the rest of the afternoon. He’d sat and stewed. Ann asked if he wanted to tag along to the theater. There was some new sappy chick flick out and she’d finally conned the rest of the group into it. He took a hard pass.
Ryuji wandered, letting his feet lead him for a change. Somehow he’d ended up at the station. And, like magic, he’d found himself outside LeBlanc. It was all a blur. He wondered if that’s how it was with all cases. You started to lose yourself in the theories, in the intrigue, and everything else just seemed…well, to grey out, lost in the background. It was nearly seven but the front light was still on, the sign on the door flipped to open. He knocked once before letting himself in.
Boss was waiting behind the counter, finishing off a cigarette and polishing a cup with his free hand. Ryuji’d never really liked the smell that came along with cigs. It was always vaguely poisonous, had a weird way of curling inside your lungs, but Boss’ weren’t quite so bad. They were menthols or some shit. He’d been trying to quit for years now.
He seated himself at the counter, drumming his fingers on the well worn surface, “Hey, Boss. Keepin’ busy?”
Sojiro motioned to the empty room. He smirked despite the dire state of things, “You tell me, kid.”
That was it for the small talk. He shook his head, jabbing a thumb towards the stairs, “Akira here?”
“Naw. Said he’d be out for the evening.”
Ryuji frowned, glancing down at his watch, “Did he say anything else?”
“Nope. And I didn’t ask either.”
Boss was always great with the conversation. The blond rolled his eyes, glancing towards the door, “Hey uh. You mind if I like. Hang out for a while? Kind of want to talk with him.”
He was pretty sure his luck had run out. Sojiro stared at him with that purely adult look, the one that managed to dig right down into your soul. You’re planning shit, kid, was what it said. Unlike most people, Boss had that aura about him. The one that said sure, he was prickly, but he was prickly for a reason. He’d been a kid at some point. He’d done all the bad shit. He had a deep and intimate understanding of the darker side of youth.
That look said he knew something was up.
Then he’d just shrugged, tossed the rag at him. He’d been so blindsided by the change that he hadn’t managed to get his hand up in time. “Just make sure he closes up this time.”
He was still staring, stunned into silence, when Sojiro leaned back in, grabbing his coat. He leveled him with an accusative finger, “Make sure you don’t miss the train, either. Got enough kids under my roof as it is.”
____
Neither of them had planned on going out. Still, Leblanc was open and she’d wanted Chinese. There was a place not far from the cafe that had a decent selection. It was too heavy for most of the year but it was perfect for a rainy afternoon. Akira stuffed his hands in his pockets, chancing a look over at his partner.
The woman was smiling to herself, a hint of color in her cheeks. She’d had a beer with dinner and it’d been just enough to relax her. She turned her face up to the sky. The worst of the rain had long since passed. Now it was...comfortable. A few beads slicked down her cheek, her neck.
She reached out for him. Sadayo was more tactile when she drank. The woman bit down on her lower lip, threading her fingers through his. It wasn’t much but. Any contact in public was special. She hugged his arm to her chest, “I like this.”
“Walking?”
She snorted. He imagined the alcohol was the only reason she didn’t shove him, “Spending time together.”
It was an close an admission as he was going to get in public. Akira fished the cafe keys out of his pocket. It was a little after nine; most likely Sojiro would have headed home. A quick flick of the wrist and the door was open. The building was almost eerily dark. He motioned for Sadayo to precede him.
The moment the door clicked shut she was back with him, hands smoothing up and under her shirt. The warmth of her skin was a startling contrast to the chill evening air. Only the residual light from the lamppost outside illuminated the scene. It was just enough for him to make out the amused quirk in her brow, “You mind if I stay a little longer tonight?” She scratched her nails over the small of his back, staring up at him through artfully lowered lashes.
The only correct answer was to kiss her. Sadayo made some pleased little noise low in her throat, her arms twining around his neck, needy for his touch. In the back of his mind, he knew this was dangerous. They’d spent too much time together this week. Someone was bound to see them.
And, of course, someone did.
Akira’d had a hunch that his life was some sort of sick cosmic game since the start of the year. This just confirmed it. The light switched on in a blinding flash, illuminating Ryuji. His friend was staring at them in shocked stupor, mouth agape. He’d wanted to yell his triumph. The words died on his tongue.
It was a hell of a thing, really, the three of them caught in some awful tableau. He couldn’t even come up with an excuse. Hey, bud. Oh, Kawakami? She was just in the neighborhood; thought she needed to get out of the rain. And this? The contact? She was just trying to get warm…
It wouldn’t fly. Sadayo stiffened in his arms, her dark eyes flooded with a mixture of panic and irritation. She half turned at the same time Ryuji found his voice.
“Holy shit, man, what is this?”
His eyes kept darting between them pair of them, mouth still slack jawed. Akira glanced down at his lover, squeezing her hip, “You can head upstairs. I’ll take care of this.”
If nothing else, she still smiled, “Don’t make too much noise when you kill him.”
Ryuji made a dissatisfied noise in response. He wasn’t half as sure of himself as usual. To his credit, he waited until the sound of Kawakami’s footsteps had faded before he spoke. He didn’t come around the bar so much as he vaulted over it, his eyes wide and accusative, “Dude. You know who that is right?”
He snorted, "I know."
“It’s Kawakami. Miss. Kawakami. Did you like…” he stopped, frowning, glancing back towards the stairs, “Was she the one you were moping over? And the Hawaiian rendezvous?”
“I never moped.”
“Dude.”
He sighed, “Look, man,” Akira dragged a hand through his hair, leaning back against the counter. LeBlanc was an old girl; the air conditioner had never really worked during the summer and the heating wasn’t great now. It wasn’t bad enough to see his breath or anything, but he could feel the first hint of autumn nipping at the air. He took a steadying breath, eyeing his friend, “I’m asking you just…keep this to yourself. If someone found out about us it could be bad. Sa…” he paused, corrected himself, “Kawakami could lose her job. It’d go on her record.”
“And yours. Yours, too.”
“Yeah, mine too. So just...keep this to yourself.”
The blond rocked back on his heels, hands stuffed in his pockets. Silence stretched between them. It was not strictly uncomfortable. Now and again, the other boy would surprise him with his maturity. Ryuji was brash and...well, sometimes a little tone deaf. But he wasn’t mean spirited. Especially when it counted and especially with his friends. He held one hand up, opened his mouth. Shut it before trying again, the words uncharacteristically careful, “I gotta ask. Like...Kawakami’s cute, you know. But like…” Ryuji shrugged, glancing back towards the stairs. He could see the wheels turning. His friend was trying for tact, “Ain’t like we got a shortage of pretty girls in our life. Was it the whole...teacher thing?”
God, he’d heard that joke too many times. Kawakami liked to use it whenever things started to feel too heavy. It was a nice way to reduce everything they’d worked for to one shitty cliche. Akira frowned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He’d been here for months now and he still wasn’t used to the weight. “You’re gonna make me get sappy. I dunno. She’s…” he stuffed his left hand in his pocket. Sadayo liked to tease him for the tic; more often now, she’d lean over, tug on his sleeve. If he was honest, it wasn’t even the early days of their romantic relationship he thought back on.
It was just her. Overworked and miserable and trying to save face in some kid’s attic. Beneath the layers of sarcasm and world weariness, she’d just been…
He smiled, “She’s a good person. If the whole Phantom Thief schtick has taught me anything it’s that there aren’t a lot of those in the world. And, “ he shrugged, finding himself focusing on his shoes. It was better than looking at his friend. Somehow the words felt too heavy, too real, “She’s smart and funny. She uh...blushes at any compliment. She’s just...” He shrugged.
Ryuji’s brow furrowed. He took a step back. Then he smiled, a wide, ridiculous expression that threatened to split his face, “Dude. That’s not like...screwing around stuff. That’s like...I dunno, love or something.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. For Ryuji, that wasn’t saying much, “You love her, man?”
He sighed, shooting a look towards the stairs, “Yeah. It’s uh...it’s been a while now.”
“Shit, dude,” his friend laughed, leaning forward, slugging him squarely in the shoulder. There wasn’t a lot of force behind the blow, just enough for him to notice. “I mean...congrats. That’s huge.”
“But you get it now. You can’t tell anybody.”
Akira thought he knew each of his friends pretty well by now. If you needed someone who was good with people or feelings, you went to Ann. If it was intellectual, or tactical, there was Makoto. Yusuke...well, weird abstract shit, maybe. Ryuji was clutch. He’d been there with him the longest. Now and then, he’d let his temper get away with him. At his heart, he was good. He was the best guy. When shit got real? Ryuji would stick it out. Didn’t matter if the situation was hopeless, didn’t matter if every rational thought said to run. He’d be there. The blond nodded, expression serious, “Not a soul, man.” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his head, “I uh. I guess I should be heading out, huh? Let you and teach get back to your evening.”
“We’ll hang out soon, I promise.”
Ryuji waved him off, already back in his element. He stopped by the door, leaning his shoulder against the frame for a second, “Do me one better. You uh…” he smirked, the bells jingling as he stepped out, “Mind asking Kawakami if she’s got any friends? You know...available.”
“Go home, Ryuji.”
“Oh, come on! Even a name will do, man!”
He shut the door, huffing out a laugh. The other boy could be wild and exhausting but he wouldn’t trade their friendship for anything in the world. Akira stuffed his hands in his pockets, making his way to the base of the stairs. Unsurprisingly, Sadayo had taken a seat at the top. Her hands were dangling over her knees, limp, relaxed, ready to jump back to life. It was rare to see her so languid. The woman’s natural state was typically more worn, frenetic. She tipped her head to the side, a hint of color already in her cheeks. He smiled, “Heard all of that, yeah?”
“Sakamoto doesn’t really have an indoor voice.” One corner of her mouth ticked up, “So you love me, huh?”
Akira nodded, leaning against the wall. The distance between them, the silence, still felt comfortable, “Looks that way.”
Sadayo shook her head, turning her face up towards the ceiling. It was nervous twitch all her own. It never managed to disguise her embarrassment. She cleared her throat, extending her hand to him. He was all too willing to go, cramming himself beside her on the narrow landing. She reached out, curling her fingers in the front of his shirt, “You really shouldn’t, you know.”
“Hasn’t stopped me yet.”
Empirically, there were prettier girls in the world. She wasn’t striking like Ann. She didn’t have Makoto’s presence. Maybe love muddied his thoughts, but he was damn sure there wasn’t anything more beautiful than Sadayo when she smiled. It transformed her whole face, left her young and fucking radiant. She curled her nails against his chest, the hint of pain distracting from the way she kissed him. Just a chaste brush of the lips, “I’m glad. Makes uh…” she cleared her throat, “Makes being in love with you a lot less awkward.”For once, she didn’t try to break the mood. No jokes about her age, no calling him Master. No backpedalling when things got too heavy. Sadayo smiled, leaning against his side when he leaned in to kiss her again. “Can we...do you mind if we take this upstairs?”
She tugged on his hand, so damn beautiful. Her hair was wild, frizzy from the rain, and the makeup around her eyes had smeared. Somehow it worked, came together with that perfect, strangled energy that personified Sadayo. He shook his head, more than willing to let her lead him.
“Hey uh...I have to ask. For Ryuji’s sake.”
She huffed, giving his chest a push, “I think I know where this is heading.” He held his arms out wide and she couldn’t help but laugh, “No. None of my friends are single. At least not...Sakamoto single.”
He’d done his job. Akira looped his arms around her waist, “All I needed to know.”
___
After that, Ryuji didn’t bother with the investigation. He had his answer. And yeah, some of the others would give him shit for letting this fade away after he’d made such a fuss. He’d get through it. More importantly, his friend was gonna be alright. The blond hooked his thumbs through his belt loops, leaning back against the counter. It was a cool afternoon; winter was looming somewhere on the horizon. Didn’t matter. They had good food, a good vibe, and nothing to do.
In short, the perfect evening.
Everything was right with the Phantom Thieves. End of the day, a guy couldn’t ask for more than that.