Chapter Text
If he’s honest with himself, Akira isn’t sure where his interest in Yusuke began. It was a feeling; a burning curiosity at the back of his mind that had formed sometime after Ann’s first ‘modeling session,’ but before he’d watched the burning spark resolve manifest itself in a blast of ice and surprising physical strength. At first, he’d somehow convinced himself it was simply because of who Yusuke was -- his eccentricity commanded attention, even if he was not asking for it, but there were so much more he’d only caught brief glimpses of.
Unfortunately, the how of doing this eluded him.
Bonding with Ryuji had been a happy accident -- two people tossed into a strange and horrific mess, forced to rely on each other for survival. Morgana had appeared as a guide when they’d needed one most, and it was only natural that they’d all bonded after that. Ann had been much the same; a careless miscalculation on their part turned ally and kindred spirit -- they’d all suffered at the same hands, after all.
Yusuke… Yusuke was different. Yusuke they’d met by chance due only to his impulsiveness and perhaps a great deal of dumb luck with timing. Unlike their small group of misfits, Yusuke was the victim of a situation they knew almost nothing about, but learned everything of quicker than any of them had expected. There wasn’t the empathy of understanding the same way he’d had before, just the middle ground of knowing right and wrong and seeing someone at the mercy of distorted desires.
But the curiosity was still there; the pull he couldn’t quite explain. So many somethings Akira wanted to know; layers he wanted to peel back and learn everything Yusuke had to offer.
The chance came to him in the form of a text message one early afternoon in mid-June; a call Akira had responded to as he rushed from the classroom before any hesitation could set in. If all went well, he’d gain a friend he’d been hoping for. If nothing came of it, then it was still his duty as the leader of the phantom thieves to see that their newest member felt comfortable and welcome.
When he arrived at the underground walkway, Akira wasn’t sure what to expect. The message he’d received from Yusuke had been vague at best, and his attempts to gather more information on the train had been met with short responses with the promise of an explanation in person and that the information was ‘much too important’ to convey in a mere text. It was worrisome, especially when he hadn’t been able to deduce any sort of emotion from what had been said, and he’d quickly made his way from school to the train.
“Ah, Akira.” Yusuke inclined his head in greeting as Akira jogged over from the stairs, anticipation building in the back of his mind. “You arrived much quicker than I anticipated.”
Akira smiled faintly and rolled his shoulders in a light shrug. A cursory glance didn’t suggest anything was wrong, and Yusuke’s attitude was much too calm for someone who might have been in trouble. Perhaps he could have afforded to walk to the train with Ryuji after all.
“Is everything alright? You don’t usually text me in the middle of class.”
“I apologise for my timing, but when I was alerted of the news I wished to tell you as soon as possible.” Yusuke brightened, the corners of his eyes wrinkling just barely enough that it was noticeable. “My piece ‘Desire’ -- the one I brought to LeBlanc -- has been accepted into the public exhibition. It is on display as we speak; I had hoped you might come with me to see it.”
Against his side, Akira felt Morgana shift and a low huff sounded from his bag. “The museum again? I can’t even poke my head out there! Can’t we--ack! Hey!”
Hefting his back further up his shoulder, Akira nodded. “I’d like to be able to see it as it’s meant to be.”
“Ah?”
“Isn’t the wall of an art gallery the best place for a painting?”
Yusuke straightened with a swell of pride as he turned toward the station. “Then let us head to the museum.”
“Guh,” Morgana huffed and dropped his weight against Akira’s side. “I’m going to go for a walk when we get there. Just call out for me when you’re done.”
“Will you?” Yusuke frowned, glancing back at Akira’s bag as they stepped out onto the platform, waiting for their turn to board. “You’ll be missing the chance to appreciate countless works of art.”
“What am I supposed to appreciate from inside his bag?”
“That would prove difficult for viewing. It’s most unfortunate… However, I do require Akira and I humbly request that you do not cause a disturbance outside the museum.”
When Morgana didn’t answer, Akira cut in quickly, hoping to ease tension before it started. “What’s the exhibition like?”
“To be honest, I have yet to actually go there myself.” Yusuke chuckled, soft and deep, like a low rumble. “We will be experiencing it for the first time together.”
Bowing his head, Akira hid a small smile. Yusuke might have come to him for help initially, but of everyone in their little group, Ann seemed the most sensible candidate to bring along. After all, Ann, at least, had some semblance of an eye for art, and it was Ann who had noticed Yusuke’s style under Madarame’s name. She had been the one who caught the artist’s eye in Yusuke, and she did seem to be someone he worried about frequently. Yet here they were, standing together on a train as they rushed toward a museum over their homework.
It was flattering, really, and an odd sense of pleasure bubbled in the back of Akira’s mind.
The ride to the museum felt blissfully short thanks to Yusuke’s enthusiastic explanation of the museum the exhibition was being hosted at and a surprisingly in-depth summary of a handful of artists he knew would be there. According to the map they’d been given, Desire was being displayed on the second floor, and Akira found himself being guided toward the stairs almost immediately. It was surprising to see Yusuke pass so many other paintings by without so much as a cursory glance, but he could only assume it was to excitement. Artist or otherwise, it seemed natural that most anyone would be proud to have their work displayed in a public place.
The first floor, of what Akira had seen, had been comprised of namely statues and what had appeared to be some sort of interactive piece. The second floor was much quieter and the atmosphere more intense, almost palpably so; Akira couldn’t help but feel a rush of admiration for all the artists there. It was one thing to bare their soul to a friend, but to put it on display took a courage he only felt in the Metaverse. To want to do it as a career was incredible.
“Hm… I believe my piece truly stands out among the sea of art here.” Yusuke spoke, bringing Akira back down to earth just in time to keep him from crashing into Yusuke’s back as he stopped moving.
True to his words, the dark colours stood out starkly against the soft wallpaper and the far brighter scenes of the paintings around it. Even compared to the other paintings in the room, Desire held a much more morbid appearance; it was easy to zone in on. Especially when there was no one to block the view.
“And yet…” Yusuke frowned and unease began to form in Akira’s chest. “...no one has come to see it.”
Art may not have been Akira’s forte -- a fact Morgana had teased him about relentlessly on more than one occasion -- but he didn’t need the strain of Yusuke’s tone to know something was off. Small groups were gathered around each painting, and when they moved away, more filled the vacant space. It seemed as if there was a steady stream of patrons everywhere but Yusuke’s painting.
“I wonder… Perhaps it is fear that keeps them away.”
“Fear?”
“Fear of the truth within my work; fear enough that they dare not draw closer for a proper look.”
Knowing the nature behind the inspiration of the work, Akira’s first instinct was to agree. Mementos was a far cry from a safe haven, and most wouldn’t venture in a second time given the choice. Even now, there were still moments he felt an icy chill trickle down his spine as he carefully drove down the dark passageways of the human cognition. One wrong turn -- one mistake -- was all it could take to end them all. The painting did well to remind him of all of that; part of him even desperately hoped it was his own conditioning that allowed him to draw close. Fear would be so much easier to explain as a rational reason if Yusuke were to grow upset.
“Hm…?” A new voice broke the tense silence that had settled over them and Akira almost sighed audibly in relief. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a woman he’d never seen before approach, her eyebrows drawn together quizzically. “What… is this one supposed to be?”
What seemed a fair enough start; that’s where Akira started with most paintings he /ever looked at -- and generally where he ended as well. He could only hope this woman had a better eye for art than he did.
“It’s… really dark. Almost sinister. The aura emanating from this is just… creepy.”
Creepy. Creepy certainly worked for Mementos, but creepy wasn’t necessarily the word he’d use to describe desire of all things. He’d seen human desires in physical form before; creepy just wasn’t strong enough.
Beside him, Yusuke had gone as still as the statues on the first floor, completely zoned in on their conversation with a practiced neutral expression.
“The plaque reads Desire,” beside her, an older man squinted at the card near the painting, his arms crossed and lips pursed. “It hardly seems to fit; there is no desire to be found here.”
“Is that so…?” The woman clicked her tongue in thought and angled her head from left to right, as if to search for some hidden image lurking in the swirling red and black strokes.
“Ah, wait, I see…” The old man had spoken again and Akira’s gaze snapped over, half-hearted hope building. “This area is for students; clearly this is just a work of a whim. A cry for attention and nothing more.” He nodded to himself as if to confirm his own thoughts. “Come, there are far more interesting pieces over here.”
It was a much harsher judgement than Akira had expected. He’d known critics were going to be there, but the complete lack of subtlety took him by surprise. Words danced on the tip of his tongue with the sudden urge to draw the pair back and explain, ‘No, you don’t understand. This is what it looks like.’ Explaining how he knew that would be awkward, admittedly, but this was Yusuke’s work, and seeing it so cruelly glossed over made his stomach churn.
“Yusuke… They’re not--”
“...there is no need to worry.” Yusuke’s voice was soft, barely more than a whisper with a tone that suggested there were a lot of reasons to be worried. “I am not bothered in the slightest.”
Feeling his shoulders go slack, Akira nodded in visible relief. A positive attitude toward criticism was a good road to take; there had been nothing to worry about after all.
“That was nothing more than the drivel of unrefined commoners. Their opinion need not matter.”
Or maybe there was. The aura of irritation radiating off Yusuke was more than a little off-putting, and Akira had no idea how to address it. One thought among many was hardly reason to be upset, but he didn’t have any others aside from his own to pull from -- and it was incredibly easy to accuse him of a bias.
“As long as those who are in the know understand my work, I will be happy.”
“That’s… a good way to look at it.” Akira murmured with a weak smile. It was better than getting angry, at the very least. Running away from criticism never helped anyone grow, but jumping into the deep end first rarely taught anyone to swim either. A small voice in the back of his mind chastised himself for not trying to sway Yusuke from entering into such a public venue so soon after his slump, while another, much louder part, scolded him for even considering that persuading him might have been the right choice.
“I’m--”
“Just a moment,” Yusuke brought up his hand, silencing Akira before he could continue. “A knowledgeable patron has just arrived.”
Akira blinked, pushing his glasses up as he turned back to the painting to see another older gentleman dressed in clean, pressed clothing gazing up at it.
“Excuse me, sir.” The man turned, nodding in silent greeting as Yusuke approached him, leaving Akira with no choice but to follow in silent anticipation. “If I might be so bold as to inquire… What are your thoughts on this piece?”
“Thoughts?” The man hummed in reponse and turned back to the wall, his eyes drifting over the painting to take in its full appearance. “Well, it’s quite easy to see why this piece was accepted; the stroke and technique behind it is absolutely exquisite.”
Yusuke beamed at the praise, but Akira relaxed with caution. The man didn’t appear as if he was done.
“However, as a whole…” He frowned, shaking his head, “I’m afraid it’s mediocre at best.”
“Wh…” Yusuke choked at the same time Akira winced. “How dare you…!”
“Ah… so you are the artist?” The man turned back and looked Yusuke over with a faint, though thankfully not derisive smile. “The name of this work is ‘Desire,’ is it not? Though wouldn’t you say such a topic is drastically overused? Most, I imagine, might even consider calling it stale.”
Worried, Akira moved forward again, his eyes falling to Yusuke’s fists as they curled and uncurled rapidly. He could feel the tension in the room rising again as Yusuke fought to control his temper, and Akira briefly wondered if, maybe, they should leave.
“If you are going to make use of such an old theme for an abstract work, you must inject some individuality into it. Open yourself for your work, and use that to infuse your canvas with desire.”
“That’s--!”
“Now, now…” The stranger held up his hand, stopping Yusuke’s retort and motioned to the canvas. “Take a moment to remove yourself from the bias of the artist. Your skill with brushstrokes are splendid, do not misunderstand. I was serious before when I said the technique itself was wonderful. However… when you gaze upon this piece, do you feel desire?” He paused briefly, as if giving them a moment to think before he continued. “I myself feel very little; just emptiness devoid of a true meaning.”
The slight tremble of Yusuke’s hands worked its way up his arms and across his entire body. The subtle, but overwhelming emotion made Akira feel tense himself, and he opened his mouth, ready to demand the stranger leave, and yet… he had to admit, nothing truly cruel was said. Harsh though his words were, the man did seem to be try to help.
“If you truly wish to continue walking the path of an artist, I suggest you take a more critical eye upon your work. Only that will allow you to walk forward.” With another nod, the man left bid them farewell and walked away, leaving a stunned Yusuke behind.
“My work is… empty?” It was barely a whisper as Yusuke stared at his painting with a distant gaze.
“Hey, Yusuke…” Akira bit his lip, uncertain of what to say. Yusuke looked so fragile; he didn’t want to make it worse. “Don’t let it get to you. You’re just…” Just what? He didn’t have anything to follow.
Feeling lost like this when all the choices he’d made up until now felt so easy, almost on pure instinct, was troubling. A listening ear was easy enough to offer anyone who needed it; helping Ryuji had been easy because the answers seemed obvious when they’d lived through something similar, and Ann seemed to find her own answers before Akira offered to give them.
Not being able to help Yusuke -- to know the words to say or the actions to take -- frustrated him so much. He felt so out of his element, but so desperate to find his way into it.
“Perhaps you’re right…” It didn’t sound as if Yusuke had taken the comfort to heart, and his expression twisted in pain. “But… where could I have gone wrong? I had put my heart and soul into capturing this… into capturing desire! It was supposed to lay bare the nature of the reality in the world…!”
“Yusuke--”
“Maybe… it truly is empty,” he whispered, his shoulders sagging. “It’s true -- there is no desire here! These strokes, these colours… They’re not desire! This is just my own mere cognition! A fabrication of what we see over there! It is not I who captured desire…” Yusuke choked and his knees wobbled. “It is only desire that captured me.”
“I think--” Akira jumped, cutting himself short as Yusuke suddenly collapsed to his knees.
“How could I have been so foolish?” Yusuke’s tone was growing in pitch and volume, his words slightly slurred with the heavy emotion that held him to the ground. All around them, people had begun to back away in concern, some eyeing Yusuke as if he were a danger to them. “It is as though I have been forsaken by the gods of art…!” He choked, his head dipping down low enough that his bangs brushed the ground. “This is the end for me… How could I have been so foolish…?!”
“Yusuke, that’s not true.” Akira frowned, shooting glares at anyone who dared to stare. “This is just the beginning, and--”
“Do not patronize me! There is no future for me here.” Words kept pouring forth as Yusuke berated himself quietly, his shoulders trembling with raw emotion as he clawed at the ground.
“Yusuke…” Akira looked to the painting and back to his fallen friend, his eyebrows drawing together. The sudden drastic change in the situation almost left him feeling winded, and he was still at a loss for what to do.
Though, when he thought about it, there was an answer in that. He’d felt so lost because he was so certain he knew what he was supposed to feel; he had a unique advantage in insight for that. Yusuke was very much the same, and the old man had been right. There was a certain amount of bias that had pulled them both down. Not everyone could see and understand the physical human cognition.
Loathe as he was to admit it, Akira had let his emotions get the better of him, rather than taking a moment to try and think clearly. He’d let himself fall into the trap of trying to say and do what Yusuke wanted , not what he needed.
“Yusuke.” Akira spoke, his voice growing firm. Several quick strides brought him in front of Yusuke’s crumpled form. “This isn’t like you.” He paused and glanced around; fortunately everyone had moved far enough out of earshot in their desperation to avoid the dramatics. “ This isn't the resolve Goemon answered to.”
Yusuke froze, and for a moment, Akira wondered if he might have gone too far.
“You… you’re correct.” Yusuke’s tone was still soft, but stronger than before. He raised his head slowly and their gazes met as something in Yusuke’s eyes seemed to shift. “To surrender after one failure would be an insult not only to myself, but the world of art as well.”
Relief washed over his as he nodded firmly and watched Yusuke stand up. This was the reaction he’d been hoping for.
“Still,” Yusuke sighed and brushed the bangs from his eyes, “to be criticized so harshly by one who understands art… it does hurt.”
“Maybe…” Akira shrugged, his expression softening, “...but it sounds like something you might have needed. We all do sometimes.”
“Yes…” Yusuke straightened, his expression changing so suddenly it was almost startling. “This is all the more reason to move forward. I must break out of my slump; I must prove my ability to that man…!”
Akira’s smile grew as he nodded again. “That’s the spirit.”
“I will start by painting.”
“Sounds good.”
“After that, I will paint.”
“That’s… good?”
“And beyond that, I will paint even more!”
The sudden babbling enthusiasm that poured forth from Yusuke was somewhat baffling, but a relief nonetheless. A stranger was an odd source of motivation, Akira thought, but motivation nonetheless, and Yusuke looked as if he’d found what he needed.
“--and I will conquer this!”
“Right.” Akira nodded a third time and silently cursed himself for having gotten lost in his own thoughts. He had almost no idea what it was he’d just agreed to, but fortunately, Yusuke hadn’t seemed to have noticed and beamed in response.
“Now, let us return. I have much work to do--” A low rumble cut Yusuke short and he placed a hand gingerly against his stomach as his face contorted in discomfort. “...Ngh.”
“...why don’t we stop somewhere for a snack on the way home?” Akira suggested with a small smile.
“I’m not certain we should. I still need train fare and--”
“My treat; as congratulations for making it into the exhibition and finding your footing again.” It was a weak and half-assed excuse, but each time Akira heard Yusuke’s stomach made noises like that, he worried. Yusuke had displayed a number of times that his priorities were generally placed in his study, not nutrition.
“...in that case, just this once, I will accept with thanks. Your generosity is more gracious than I deserve, as always.”
“Not at all,” Akira shook his head and gave Yusuke a light push to steer him toward the stairs. “We always celebrate once we’ve finished a palace. Personal battles deserve rewards too.”
Yusuke didn’t protest any further, a fact that Akira was grateful for, and allowed himself to be guided onward. “...thank you for coming with me today. I hope you will continue to grace me with your assistance as I work my way out of this.”
“Of course,” Akira nodded. “We had a deal.”
A deal, and a curiosity that was growing more and more each day. The wonderful, mysterious something that Akira was determined to figure out. If spending more time with Yusuke would help him find clues as to what it was, well… he wasn’t about to complain.
Note: But seriously, has anyone else noticed that weird couple next to Yusuke who always seems to be like two seconds from snogging? (Not to mention the couple behind them who IS snogging.) I once stood in the middle of them while I was talking to him like, “Save room for Jesus.”
Also, a lot of Akira’s responses in regards to art were pretty generic, so I like to think he knows like… nothing about art. He’s just good at finding obvious differences between things. Akira "I know Fuck-All About Art But I love this Soft Art Boy More Than Anything So I will Fake it Till I Make It" Kurusu.
Sorry for the notes inside the story, but that weird glitch is still going around and I don’t need this note appearing on every chapter.