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Chapter Text

        Ever since coming home to his parents’ house, the best part of the week was video calling back home to his friends. He was always very eager as he set up his laptop, knowing that they were all starting to arrive at Leblanc and do the same with one of their laptops. It was one of the few things that still made him feel connected to the people who were so far away.
He absentmindedly stroked Morgana who had settled into his lap, also excited to see the people who made him feel like he belonged somewhere. Morgana had become even more of an essential support to Akira now that he was back with his parents, every day draining him of his energy even more than his previous bouts in the metaverse had.

        When Akira first moved back, he chatted at length with all of his friends almost daily, even if he didn’t have much to share. Now, he still video called and texted- but phone calls were hard, if not impossible for him. Being in a small town where the people you live with, go to school with, work with, and pass in the street views you as a delinquent had pushed him back many steps away from who he had become as leader of the Phantom Thieves. He had fallen back into a spiral, his anxiety barely allowing him to speak.

        The little Icon for Makoto flashed ‘Online’ and Akira pressed the video call button immediately. As soon as the video feed popped onto his screen he signed “Good morning!” and all of his friends cheerily replied with their voices, some signing back to him as well. It was one of the rare days where Haru and Makoto could spare a visit from college at the same time, and the whole group could talk to him. Morgana popped his head up into the screen.

        “I cannot wait to get out of this scummy town and come back,” He mewed, twitching an ear, putting on a show for his friends. “I expect some majorly good food when I get back.”

        “Both of you will be back soon for summer vacation!” Haru cheerily clapped her hands together. “Me and Makoto will be home as well!”

        “And I even went up and dusted your room and got it ready for your stay!” Futaba grinned. “I uh… also sort of took over your desk. It was a shame nobody was using it!”

        “I have been saving my money, and we will celebrate your return with sushi!” Yusuke crossed his arms and nodded, as if pleased with himself.

        “Or Ramen!” Ryuji cut in with a grin. “We all can’t wait for ya to come back, and spend all summer with us.”

        Ann poked Ryuji in the side, earning a loud squeak of surprise. “Aww, you’re so cute.”

        “S-shut up!” Ryuji retorted, used to fighting with Ann as if they were siblings.

        Akira signed back cheerfully, doing so slowly since his friends were still novices at understanding sign language. “I can’t wait to see all of you. I miss living in the city more than I ever thought that I could.”

        He smiled even bigger as his friends all attempted to answer him in JSL, Yusuke completely messing up and getting a tad flustered, which of course earned lighthearted teasing from Futaba.

        Akira covered his mouth and chuckled softly to himself, enjoying the moment until there was a loud knock at his door, and his name being called loudly and sternly. “on a Saturday??” He thought to himself, panicking, while signing ‘sorry’ and ending the call. He cursed at himself for not doing a good job of hiding the panic stricken look from his face.
Morgana got off his lap and jumped onto his desk while Akira sauntered out of the room. He waited for the door to close, and then called back, and started to speak immediately as the worried group of teens popped back onto the screen.

        “Listen to me. I muted you guys, but you need to hear first hand what’s going on. He’s not doing well here. This happens often, although his parents usually have meetings on Saturdays…”

        The group in Leblanc shared worried expressions as they listened to an intense verbal beat down, apparently stemming from his parents listening into his conversation. His father made it clear he was not to leave during summer vacation. Akira was silent though the whole thing, even as the verbal abuse continued onto topics unrelated to the call.

        Makoto was the first one to act, grabbing her keys, ready to make the long drive to pick him up, Haru grabbed her arm, glancing up to her with a worried expression, shook her head to say “Not yet.” Makoto sat back down, shaking in anger, knowing she was right. Yusuke had a firm grasp on Futabas shoulder, who was angrily spouting how she could digitally ruin their lives for hurting Akira. Ryuji, although seething more that probably anyone, was stone faced and had an arm in front of Ann, who was acting like she could jump through the laptop and beat the sense into Akiras father with her persona. Morganas ears were flat against his head, and he was clearly upset as well.

        “Akira… barely even speaks to me anymore… He occasionally signs to me. He doesn’t even try to sign to his parents anymore. I’ve heard them tell him more than once that they won’t play his games. They go on and on about how he ‘ruined their reputation.’ The only interaction he gets with anyone is what you’re hearing now… or the conversations he has with you guys through Skype or text. He refuses to interact at all in school, and he got a stocking job to pass the time… he doesn’t need to speak to anyone there.”

        The voice started to fade, then commanded that Akira return to his room and study while they go to Saturday meetings. Morgana looked up to the camera, paw hovering over the mouse to end the call. “Don’t let him know you overheard this, but try to support him the best you can. He’s fading fast, but it isn’t that long until summer vacation.”

Chapter Text

        The screen defaulted to a darkened window, the small call back button the only object left below Akira’s nameplate, blinking coldly. The room fell eerily silent, begging for even static to take up residence after Morgana’s hushed plea. The team slowly came to terms with processing what had just been brought to their attention, each fidgeting out of their abrupt stupor.

        "How did I not know?…." Futaba's small voice breaks through the collective shock first. Ryuji hissed through gritted teeth, seething in his seat and barely containing the need to at least pace a hole in the floor, or maybe punch a wall.

        "Damn it, I had my suspicions back then but… GAH, DAMNIT!" Ryuji snarled. Forget being still, he needed to do something and if that meant pacing as a nonviolent alternative then so be it.

        "Wait, you knew about this? And you didn't say anything!?" Ann raised her voice, whirling on Ryuji, taking a threatening half step toward the other blonde with shoulders tense and eyes alight.

        "I didn't know for sure alright?? Sometimes I would Skype with him on my own, he'd get called from his room with loud knocking at his door and wouldn't be back for a while after that, and Morgana tensed up every time. I finally got it out of him that things weren't the best at home, but he wouldn't go much further than that." Ryuji confessed heatedly, slowing his agitated shuffling to a stop, holding his hands behind his head, gaze towards the floorboards. Ann straitened and relaxed some, sobered from the explanation.

        "That idiot, so he never gave us the full story after all." Makoto’s shaky voice came from the corner, leaned against the dusty bookshelf that once held so many eclectic trinkets just last year and looking far larger than it should behind her stiff frame.

        "I had always wondered why he was so determined in Madarame's palace. He barely knew me and yet… " Yusuke couldn’t bring himself to finish his thought aloud, Haru sparing him the need to continue with a light hand on his shoulder.

        "He knew us better than we could have guessed." She murmured beside him, curling in on herself even further upon the edge of the futon.

        "And we barely knew him at all! How can we even call ourselves his friends!?" Ann shouted with frustration, the group slouching a degree with her in acceptance of their collective guilt.

        "By doing something about it. There's no way we could've known, but there's no way we're leaving him there now that we do. We will be bringing him back for summer break." Makoto stated, a determined set to her jaw. 'and If I had my way I'd be leaving to pick him up right now' was added by her foot that still hasn't stopped fidgeting since grasping her keys in a death grip a few minutes ago.

        Welcoming the change in direction, Ann jumped directly into the train of thought, "Wouldn't his parents notice him gone though? If they're that controlling they'll have him practically on surveillance."

        Yusuke perked at the concept, his trademark thinking pose coming to life, "True, it will prove difficult to spirit him away for such a prolonged period of time." Silence again reigned over the group, seemingly sapping the color from the room once more, if only for a moment, until Haru piped up.

        "Unless they have something else to pay attention to." She mused, just as much to the others as to herself, her gaze far away, as though deep in thought. An entirely different breed of silence pervaded the room, four pairs of eyes zeroing in on the sweater-clad girl.

        "…Come again?" Ann quipped with blank eyes.

        "My company is currently looking to expand its horizons into a possible cafe chain with the need for a fresh branding package." Haru started slowly, finished with a hint of enlightenment, connecting dots in her mind’s eye at breakneck speed.

        Makoto connected them right along with her, and with realization in her tone, "So you're going to-"

        "Haru you sly business lady! YOU'RE GONNA BAIT THEM??" Ryuji interrupted loudly, grinning ear to ear.

        "Not at all! My company will be holding a business retreat for ironing out this topic in Okinawa for several weeks during the summer. It's only natural to seek out new perspectives from potential business partners." Haru finished, almost too politely, with a shrewdness not many would attribute to her… if they didn’t know her.

        "So she IS baiting them…" Ann confirmed with a smirk, the air lightening with each passing comment.

        "Hey man if it ain't broke don't fix it. Haru's got my vote!" The former track star crowed, calming down enough to sit back down at the still cluttered desk.

        Yusuke nodded in agreement. In that moment, the artist noticed what had been missing during this meeting, or more precisely, who. He turned his head toward the bed where a waterfall of copper sat faced away from the rest of the team. "What say you Futaba? You've been awfully quiet." He commented softly.

        As if on cue, a light sniffle made itself heard, causing everyone to stop and turn towards the lump of redhead currently curled in on her laptop, transfixed by something on its brightened screen.

        Ann glanced to the others before calling to the techie in a light voice, "Futaba? You ok?"

        With a long pause, the hacker wrenches the headphones off her head and it takes considerable effort for her to stop mid swing and instead, allows them to fall limply from her fingers as she pulls her laptop from her side and moves it into full view along the mattress surface. The display’s feed is identical to the Skype call they'd held barely half an hour before, but the lights seem dimmed in Akira's room, and there is a lightly shaking silhouette under the comforter of the bed in the far corner, just past the desk's limits.
In the low light, their leader's tufted locks were nearly indistinguishable from fur, but the white muzzle and drooped ears were unmistakable, curled around the boy's hair, tail hanging softly off the edge of the pillow.

        Akira was hurting.

        A shuttering intake of breath from the small redhead jarred the others out of their sullen trance. "I know I shouldn't have tapped in but… I needed to see for myself." Futaba explained through shaky breathing, glancing briefly towards the others.

        Without hesitation, Makoto sat beside her, the others following suit, sharing a glance among themselves with glassy eyes, the sadness palpable, but still full of anger and resolve.

        Wordlessly, the decision was unanimous: Akira will come back home.

Chapter Text

        Akira silently lurked in the shadows of the streetlights, making his way to the train station that stood rather unimpressively at the edge of the small town. He could finally see it in the distance, after walking a few miles. The only noise at all in the calm night was coming from the wheels on the suitcase he trailed behind himself, and the shuffling of Morgana in his old Shujin bag that he held at his side.

        “Jeez. I forgot how totally cramped this bag is. Can’t say I particularly miss being carried around in it.” Morgana paused for a moment, waiting for a response that he knew wouldn’t come. “And if you even think of telling me I gained weight, I’ll lay on your face and smother you in your sleep!” Akira surprisingly offered a small, low chuckle as a response as he continued his trek to the train station, quickening his pace now that the time for his train to arrive was swiftly approaching.

        The last few weeks had been full of surprises. Akira has suspicions of his friends involvement the moment he saw the official looking letter from Okumura foods as he fetched the mail early one morning. It only grew as his father boasted about him and Akiras Mother being hand selected to attend a paid business trip hosted in Okinawa.

        The suspicions continued to pile up when Haru and Makoto, the ones picking him up on their way back from college, didn’t argue about him meeting them at a train station a few towns over rather than at his house. The dark haired boy hummed softy to himself in response to his own thoughts. He knew his friends weren’t stupid, and he silently thanked them for not making him ask for the help he desperately needed. His parents had generally left him alone as they prepared for their trip, easily allowing him to slip out to go back to the city.

        The ride on the train was filled with anxiety, an illogical nervousness to see his friends. Morgana purred reassuringly in the bag that Akira had sat on his lap, which he was grateful for. Luckily the train was empty tonight, as not to many people rode the train on this line this close to midnight. It was a short ride since it was only to a few towns over, and only a short wait in the warm summer air at the station.

        “Akira!” The large gray van rolled up to him, and Makoto and Haru sprung from the front seats to greet him. He didn’t even have time to sign hello before they both slammed into him, hugging him tightly.

        “We’ve all missed you so much.” Haru cooed to him softly.

        “We told everyone that we’d be home late… but they insisted on waiting for you. Boss said they could all wait for you in Leblanc.” Makoto updated him, also speaking sweetly. Akira nodded in response, once they had released him from their hugs. Morgana poked his head out of the bag and jumped up into Harus arms, purring.

         “We’ve missed you too, Mona-chan!” Haru beamed, nuzzling into his fur. Akira couldn’t help but chuckle.

         “Don’t spoil him too much.” He signed with a smirk, before picking up his suitcase and bag and haphazardly tossing them into the very back of the van. He hopped in after his bags into the back seat as the others got in and buckled himself in, signing at the girls once more.

         “Let’s go home!” -- The drive towards the city was long, and Akira was exhausted after the walk to the station, and the strain that he had put on him mentally the past few days. Looking from the outside, Akira would rarely be pinned as a worrier, hardly ever letting his calm, stoic façade crack. Internally however, there were often storms of emotion running their course. Although he tried his best to stay awake and listen to the adventures of the girls at college, he finally gave up and fell asleep with his cheek pressed against the glass of the van’s window.

                                                                                                       .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

        It’s dark and heavy and he can’t breathe. Why is it dark? He can’t breathe. What’s on top of him? He can’t breathe! Akira struggled against the solid force crushing his chest and constricting his movements. Wriggling an arm free and after a panicked struggle, he found himself on hands and knees heaving gulps of stagnant breath. Rubble? That explained the weight and the dust in the air, but… He finally felt the broken tile under his bare hands, registered the concrete walls and the dimmed fluorescent lights bathing the corridor in a rusted emergency power hue.

        Or, more specifically, what was left of it.

         Not much was left visible under the debris and settled layer of dust, but remnants of some sort of track was gouged into the floor, just as assuredly as a crumpled- subway car?- was half buried at the edge of the space, seeming more like a used soda can than a several ton piece of transit.

        Akira shook his head to clear the daze from his mind, beginning to scout through the area. Yeah, sure, that’s the where (sort of) but not the how! Why is he down here? Was there an earthquake? But his home town only had one connecting subway and it was NOT at this grand a scale judging by how the ceiling seemed to even out among yet more caved in piles of rock and concrete than actual constructed walling.

        He stopped mid-stride. Did he hear something? Straining his ears, Akira waited… There! It was faint and rough and almost strangled, but it was a voice! There was someone else down here! Quickening his pace, Akira worked his way around chunks of piping and concrete as he made his way towards the sound, just beyond the subway car!

        Reeling around the corner, Akira skidded to a stop at what greeted him. A crack in the wall, maybe four and a half feet tall and just wide enough to crawl through. The air that passed through the crack seemed stale, if not more-so than the main tunnel. Another faint groan was heard through the opening, spurring Akira onward as he made the plunge into the cramped and jagged passage.

        Red light gave way to midnight half-glow, the boy’s eyes barely registering what was in front of his hunched-over form as his shuffling became a crawl. It wasn’t long before his hands felt the rough rock turn to layered stone, his foot catching on something. Looking down on instinct, Akira felt out more than saw what he made contact with before picking up the strangely smooth object. Three gaps and a rough row of… beads? No. They were far too jagged to be such. Damn it, where is a light when you need- oh.

        Turning his head, there, what was perceived as the corner just to his left, blue light could be seen reflecting from the walls beyond. Hurrying over, he stopped dead.

        His eyes met the gaping gaze of a skull in his hands.

        Suddenly, with a shove from behind, Akira was thrown against the front seats of the van as it came to a stop.

        “Took you long enough to wake up! We’re here!” Makoto quipped, almost too loudly from the driver’s seat as she opened her car door, keys jangling in her hand.

        The confused boy tried to right himself quickly, knocking Morgana onto the floor of the backseat with an angry yowl of disapproval and displeasure. The girls looked at him from the front seats, worry evident on their faces, quickly sharing glances between themselves. He took a deep breath, and wiped a bead of sweat off of the side of his head.

        “Are you alright, Akira? You seemed to be in some distress back there.” Haru asked.

        He nodded. “Sorry for worrying you; just a bad dream.” He signed to them, feeling rather embarrassed.

        The door to the backseat suddenly opening made him jump again, an energetic redhead pouncing into the backseat, instantly hugging him tightly. Looking up and seeing all of his friends crowded around the car, suddenly the dream didn’t matter as much.

Chapter Text

        The dream faded more and more as he drank in the excited energy from his friends that crowded the grey van. Once Futaba let Akira go- or rather- once Yusuke forcibly removed Futaba from on top of him, he stepped out of the car. Morgana gracefully hopped down, strutting over and immediately weaving himself affectionately in between Anns ankles, purring loudly.

        The group could barely contain their excitement, but Ryuji was the first to step forward from the semi-circle of excited teenagers surrounding the side of the van, sloppily signing to Akira with conviction, “I really missed you. I’m glad you’re back.” Followed by an electrifying grin, and a not so subtle proud puff of his chest.

        Akira broke into a matching smile, precisely and swiftly responding, “You’ve really improved your signing. I’ve missed you too. Badly.” Although his technique was crisper, it was certainly stiffer than the other boys signing, and lost some emotion because of it.

        Ann grinned and whispered to Haru cheerfully, and Futaba whispered a presumably inappropriate comment, judging by Yusukes reaction. As they all whispered behind him, Ryuji responded one more time. “I’ve been practicing every day. You don’t even need to slow down for me anymore!”

        Akiras eyes shone with admiration, and he stepped forward, cocking his head to the side like a interested puppy. He looked Ryuji in the eyes, sparkling full of questions. Ryujis grin widened, and he stepped forward also, and…

        “Ahem.” Makoto cleared her throat theatrically, causing Akira to jump in surprise and Ann to shriek out in displeasure. Ryuji turned away, red-faced, and looked to Futaba and Yusuke for help.

        “U-um, lets all get on over to Leblanc!” Futaba suggested, a little too loudly.

        “Oh! Yes! I am quite famished, and I’m certain Boss would like to reunite with Akira as well.” Yusuke nodded along with his own suggestion, as if reassuring himself that he had pulled off his part.

        Akira scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and nodded in agreement, all while studying his suitcase at his feet. He followed the group that had started to all move towards the café, looking up and sighing in relief to see the familiar, soft glow of the city. He hummed in contentment as Ryuji fell in line next to him and gave him a playful nudge with his shoulder. He reached out, and just for a second wrapped his pinky around the other boys, earning a squeak of surprise. Akira let out a small chuckle, taking his hand back to cover his mouth.

        “C’mon, we’re here!” Futaba jumped up excitedly, And Makoto held open the door with a motherly smile as everyone filed into the café. Akira was last to enter, and was greeted by the strong smell of coffee and spice.

        “Hey, kid!” Sojiro flashed a genuine smile his way, sliding a full coffee cup down the counter. “Just the way you like it. I didn’t expect you to get here so late,” He admitted, tapping mindlessly on the surface in front of him, “I honestly don’t know how much longer I can stay up. I won’t be opening the café tomorrow though, so don’t you worry. We’ll celebrate then.”

        Akira nodded, picking up the cup and cradling it between his hands, a goofy smile stretched across his face.

        Morgana hops onto the counter, marching straight up to Sojiro.

        “Well what about me? Aren’t you happy to see me, Boss?” He mewled loudly, ear twitching dramatically in fake anger.

        “Oh boy.” Sojiro wiped his hands off on a cloth that hung inside the counter. “You brought the cat too. I’m thrilled.” He playfully mocked Morgana, knowing he could understand what was being said. He scoffed when Morgana started mowing loudly and continuously, most likely yelling about not being appreciated, or something like that. “Okay, Okay!” Sojiro laughed wholeheartedly, and walked over to the fridge. “Here, you loudmouth.” He presented him with a small plate with a chunk of sushi grade salmon on it, and roughly tousled his head. “I missed you too, cat.”

        Morgana responded with more yowling, this time rubbing against Sojiro, and then dove into the food.

        “I guess it is really late now.” Makoto covered her mouth and delicately let out a yawn. “I can drive everyone home, the last trains have already left.”

        “Then we can meet here in the early afternoon?” Haru asked, getting sleepy nods in response. “We can all go shopping and get things for the welcome back party!”

        Ryuji watched Akira take long, contented sips from his mug, and he slowly inched over to the black haired boy. He leaned against the counter, so that nobody else could see, and nervously signed to the other boy. “ Do you mind if… could I maybe stay over tonight?”

        Akira stared at him for a moment, before smiling into his coffee cup and nodding his head.

        “Alright!” Ann cheered out, almost too enthusiastically for the time of night that it was. It startled Ryuji, who turned around too quick to not look suspicious. “We’ll all meet back here tomorrow at noon then!”

        As they started to file out after saying their goodnights to Akira, Ann looked at Ryuji and raised an eyebrow, then chuckled to herself and waved to him, which only made Ryujis cheeks flush as his looked at his feet to avoid her gaze. He was grateful nobody actually said anything; because he wasn’t sure if he would have been able to well, not drop dead of embarrassment.

        Sojiro stopped at Akira as him and Futaba were leaving to walk home, and he squeezed his shoulder. “I really am glad you’re back. Feels more like home when you’re here, you know.” He quickly removed his hand and walked out the door leaving Futaba and Akira to shoot knowing glances at each other, and nod in solidarity. Futaba scooped Morgana up, and pet him lovingly as she drug him out the door, meowing in displeasure.

        “C’mon, kitty, you’re gonna stay with me tonight!”

--

        Ryuji helped Akira get his suitcase and bag up to the attic, and Akira paused at the top to take it all in, admiring the touches that Futaba had added. There were string lights hanging up across the room, which sparkled against the glow stars that were already stuck to the ceiling. The desk was cluttered, evidence that Futaba did her computer work up here.

        Akira didn’t even realize he had stopped to stare for so long until there was a gentle nudge to his shoulder.

        “Hey.” Ryuji called to him softly. “Do ya want to get ready for bed? ‘s late, and I’m sure you’re tired.”

        Akira nodded, and as he walked to his bed, he turned to Ryuji. “Would it… be weird if I asked you to share the bed?” He signed sheepishly, eyes flicking from Ryuji to the floor.

        Ryuji swallowed thickly, responding with his voice rather than his hands. “Y-yeah! Um, if you’d rather me be there, ‘s not a big deal.” He smiled nervously, and Akira suddenly came forward to hug him. Ryuji froze as he felt his soul leave his body for a second.

        “Missed… you.” Akira whispered, voice hoarse from disuse. Ryuji all but started crying as he gripped Akira tightly.

        "Yeah.”

--

        Ryuji awoke after roughly falling to the floor, scrambling up to his feet in confusion. “Holy eff- “ He whispered out loud to himself as he calmed down. Once he blinked the room into focus and realized what had happened, he laughed at himself. It really never occurred to him before when he had hung out up here that the bed was so… small.

        “Hey Akira-“ He started, and then he realized. Where was Akira?

        Ryuji was pretty sure he’d never gotten dressed so fast in his life, and he sprinted down the stairs. As he hit the little landing and turned to make his way into the café area, he missed the next step and comically crashed down and landed face first onto the floor. There was rustling behind the counter and a gasp, and then Ryuji was being helped to his feet. His eyes met Akiras, which were wide with complete confusion.

        “Dude! I woke up and you were gone, and I sorta panicked… Now I feel like a total idiot.” Ryuji laughed at himself, rubbing the shoulder that had slammed into the ground.

        Akiras eyes didn’t lose their concerned look, and he gingerly touched the obviously sore shoulder. He directed him to a seat at the counter, where he served a complete breakfast, accompanied by a soda instead of a coffee, naturally.

        “I just came down to make us breakfast. I woke up around 5:30 and couldn’t get back to sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.” He smiled softly, holding up his cup of coffee. “Old habits die hard. Making coffee is relaxing.”

        Ryuji started to respond when Akira jumped like a startled cat as someone began knocking on the door. He walked over cautiously to see who it could be, and opened the door to reveal a pleasantly smiling Haru.

        “Good morning! I knew you are an early riser, Akira, so I figured we could discuss what you’d like to do today over some coffee and-“ She peeked around Akira and covered her mouth. “Oops- am I interrupting?”

        Ryuji immediately waved his hands in front of himself defensively. “No, we were jus’ about to talk about what he wanted to do today too, why don’t you join us?”

        Haru beamed from the invitation as she stepped into the café., taking the seat next to Ryuji as Akira made his way back behind the counter, adjusted his old apron and got to work on a cup of coffee for the new arrival.

        “Um, Ryuji, What’s that bruise on your forehead from?”

Chapter Text

       The bar stool squeaked comfortably as Haru took her seat just to the left of Ryuji, scooting in towards the coffee bar on instinct as Akira wove his way past and behind the counter.

       Deft hands nimbly began pulling several jars off varying display shelves with a practiced ease that should’ve been rusty after a year’s absence. After taking a whiff of the first jar, it was returned with a shake of moppy curls. Haru waited to see his next move, eagerly anticipating which roast would be deemed worthy while Ryuji took the distraction as a prime chance to finish his egg rice.

       Sumatra, Vienna, and… Cinnamon Roast? A roast from all three levels, this should be interesting. Akira eyed all three jars on the table as he leaned both hands on the edge of the counter, catching the coffee enthusiast’s gaze with a raised eyebrow.

       Haru smiled with quiet confidence and a small nod. Akira broke into a grin and waltzed into the back with all three jars in hand and some spare coffee filters gathered in his arms. The game was set.

       Turning her attention towards the furious clinking of chopsticks and slurps beside her, Haru thought over her words carefully.

         “Did you sleep well Ryuji?”

       The blonde choked and nearly spat rice across the table. It took everything she had not to crack and succeeded in a calm sidelong glance towards the coughing pile of blush that, mind you, was barely hanging onto his chair at this point. Very becoming.

       Rustling could be heard from inside the kitchen as Akira returned with 3 filters full of dry coffee and his poker face firmly in place as he went about setting up the siphon brewers, sparing a curious glance at his two guests.

       Ryuji gave him a sheepish grin and Haru was about to speak up when there was a sudden furious scratching at the front of the café. Three heads whipped around to see a black, white, and yellow object fly to the handle of the café door and swing it open with a dramatically jerky motion, landing, then scurrying behind Haru’s leg.

       “Mona chan??” Haru asked, leaning to the side to get a better look at her feline friend.

       Winded giggles suddenly made themselves known from outside.

       Morgana looked up with eyes that would’ve put any animal shelter poster child to shame, “Hide me!” He begged in a thready whisper.

       “What’s on your head?!” Ryuji asked, already out of his seat and poking at the strange new object attached to the cat’s head.

       The front door swung open with a flourish, causing Morgana’s tail to initiate pipe cleaner mode.

       Too late.

       “You know Morganya, its rude to leave a fashion consultation unannounced, let alone with the fashion in question without payment.” Futaba chirps, holding her phone’s camera like some sort of weapon aimed at the panicked furball.

       “JOKER I COULD USE SOME HELP HERE!” Morgana yowled, skidding behind the counter and launching himself into Akira’s arms, the latter barely bracing enough to catch him as unsheathed claws scrambled from arms to shoulders in an attempt to climb the tallest form in the room.

       “Oh calm down, its not like I was giving you a bath or something. It’s a hat for crying out loud, embrace your inner dapper.” Futaba quipped with a satisfied lilt to her voice as she analyzed her many freeze frames from the video she had just taken.

       “Hat…?” Haru cocked her head to the side as she tried to get a better view of the offending article atop Morgana’s head. It was a yellow cone curving slightly forward between the ears, held there by a long elastic band fastened under his chin.

       “You bought him a banana hat from those capsule dispensers didn’t you?” Akira signed with a hint of resignation in his gestures. Gently detaching claws from his shirt, Akira planted Morgana onto the counter with an unconscious scrub between furry shoulder blades, taking the hat off so Morgana didn’t have to struggle more than he already had. Ryuji could be heard choking in the background all over again.

       “Only the best for my Morganya!”

       “Morganya?” Ryuji was about ready to burst, stopping only a moment to ask.

       “You know, like Nya!” The tech genius spared no expense as she struck the lucky cat pose directly in front of Morgana’s nose.

       “STOP.” Morgana demanded in a flat tone, forcing Futaba’s “paw” to the counter with his own, becoming even more flustered as she snickered at his action. Akira chuckled along with her, bringing a smile to Haru’s face as she was presented with 3 new piping hot cups of coffee.

       After tasting the selection, Haru had to admit she was impressed: the first two were just as they should have been as dark and medium roasts, but the light roast was a wildcard (no pun intended) in that Akira mixed the Cinnamon roast with a dash of the Vienna, marrying them together with… nutmeg? A curious and daring move, and just what she has learned to expect from the former leader.

       With their latest coffee roulette game over, Ryuji having caught his breath again, and Morgana and Futaba calling a truce in favor of more pressing matters (something about camera footage from the night before, but Haru had been too distracted by her coffee tasting to let it sink in), the focus was brought back to the task at hand: the day’s agenda.

       “So while Akira’s off getting the ingredients for the hotpot with Ann and Yusuke, I’ll set up the upstairs and we’ll all meet up at the mall before coming back here?” Ryuji clarifies one last time, making sure he has the story straight before running up the stairs and fabricating a second mound of messy bedding out of the still pristine futon.

       “Sounds about right! Haru, Morgana, and I have some movies we wanted to pick up too so we might be joining up a little late depending on how grouchy the rental guy is today.” Futaba confirmed.

       “I better get going then, it’s already mid morning and the others will be waiting.” Akira signed, stepping out with a jingle of the bell above the door. He stopped halfway through the doorframe a moment before looking back with a smile and continuing on his way, leaving the two girls and the cat sitting at the counter in the now quiet café.

       “So Futaba tells me you were the key to this whole trip being possible?” Morgana started, turning towards Haru with a flick in his tail.

       “It has been a group effort from start to finish, I am simply glad it worked!” Haru replied modestly.

       “True, he seems more himself this morning than I’ve seen him in months.” 

Chapter Text

Akira hummed to himself as he wove through back allies, destination set as a small bargain grocery mart that he was meeting Ann and Yusuke at to collect ingredients for tonight. He knew the back of these streets like the back of his hand, as he would often explore them at night- against Sojiro and his friends suggestions- to help release nervous energy. Morgana would tag along with him, patting along briskly next to him, always yelling at him to go home.

Makoto was originally going to join them at the market, but she had instead insisted that she was going to go off on her own to get dessert, which she also insisted was a surprise. This information was, of course, accompanied by a lecture about spending money wisely without her being there to police spending.

As Akira rounded the corner of the second to last alley, mind wandering to the events of the previous night, he suddenly felt a strong pressure pushing against his chest, and he stumbled down… a hole? He felt numb as he fell, finding it hard to take in a deep breath. Suddenly he was lying on the musty ground- with no memory of hitting the ground- and he instantly felt panicked the moment the familiar, stale air hit his lungs after a desperate gasp for breath.

Akira stood shakily and dusted himself off, this time more calmly and slowly observing his surroundings. Okay, this was the same place as the dream he had in the back of Makotos’ van. He confirmed this as he squinted and turned around through the thick, dusty air. He instinctively checked his hands, searching for red leather gloves, which of course weren’t there. Afterall, the Metaverse had been destroyed.

Akira took a grounding breath and pulled out his phone, and tapped fruitlessly at its screen, not getting any sort of signal at all. He suddenly regretted not bringing Morgana along for this, as the cat would have made him feel a thousand percent more secure. He sighed lightly to himself, and began his trek through the destroyed subway system, after a quick mental pep talk. He might as well continue where he left off in his dream. He easily found the crack in the wall that he had slipped through last time and paused as he entered, listening.

Sure enough, a muffled, and somehow familiar cry echoed from down below. Mustering up all of his courage, Akira took a shaky breath and began to descend into the dark tunnel, littered with rubble.

--

Ryuji scrunched his eyebrows up as the music on his phone pauses and breaks his concentration, but he calms when Anns ringtone plays in it’s stead. He climbed down from the ladder he had been standing on to hang the ‘welcome home’ sign, and halfheartedly sang along to the ringtone that Ann had picked out for herself.

“Yo, Ann.”

“Hey, Ryuji! We’re all done shopping and heading back your way. You and Akira better be decent when me and Yusuke get there!”

Ryuji pulled the phone away from his cheek and made a confused face at it.

“What are you even talkin’ about? Akira isn’t even here- and HEY, ‘COURSE WE’D BE DECENT!”

Ann was silent for a moment, which was weird when she had the opportunity to continue to relentlessly tease him.

“…Akira isn’t with you?” Ann carefully questioned, not wanting to let the worry in her voice show.

“He left to meet up with you almost TWO HOURS ago!” Ryuji practically screamed into the phone, as alarm bells went off in his head.

“Ryuji… he never showed up. We called him and his phone went straight to voicemail. We just assumed he had decided to stay with you and forgotten to charge his phone or something…”

There was nothing but silence on the other end for what seemed like an eternity.

“Ryuji?” Ann asked, again, being careful of her tone.

“Shit. Shit! We’ve got to find him!” Ryuji was running blindly down the attic stairs, and the thump thump of his feet heavily hitting the old floor could be heard through the phone.

“Ryuji!! You can’t go blindly running off on your own! We’re on our way back, and Yusuke is calling Futaba and Haru now. We both know she has trackers on all of our phones! We’ll be able to find him in no time!”

--

“This isn’t possible.” Futaba angrily spewed curses at the screen, hugging her knees to her chest.

“How can he just be… nowhere?” Haru asked, concern written all over his face.

“Perhaps the tracker stopped working or was damaged in some way?” Yusuke thought aloud, scratching his chin.

“No way, Inari.” Futaba spat. “These trackers are top of the line. We’re talking still functional in 1,000 foot water; Still functional after being run over by a steamroller. I spared no expense!”

Makoto sighed loudly. “So you’re telling us that there is absolutely no reason why his tracker- which I still argue is morally wrong to have in his phone in the first place- should have stopped working?”

“That’s what I’m saying! Literally no reason!” Futaba angrily continued typing, and the others discussed ideas amongst themselves.

Ryuji was silent, angrily stewing in a booth. He suddenly stood and spun on his heels, heading for the door.

“Ryuji! Where do you think you’re headed? We haven’t even come up with a plan yet.” Yusuke asked, standing up but not necessarily following the faux blonde.

“Aw, C’mon, you all know me, do you really think I can just sit here when he’s… he’s who even knows where?”

He turned to his friends and threw his hands up in an exaggerated shrug, and before even waiting for an answer, he sprinted out the front door of the café and headed towards the bargain market.

--

Akira cautiously shifted a large stone, revealing a tunnel that wasn’t in ruin like the rest. It looked like it had been frozen in time, the air still and old; the walls delicate and fragile. There was a single torch lit and hanging on the wall, and although everything in him was telling him to just turn around and run, he picked up the torch and pressed on.

There had been skulls and bones scattered throughout the tunnels he had used to get here, which had been easy to ignore, but in this section of tunnel had full skeletons laid into holes carved into the walls. Akiras whole body betrayed him as he shook violently from his core, nervousness clouding his judgment. Full bodies meticulously placed with care were harder to ignore. He followed the voice that was now closer, allowing it to be his guide as he felt himself being drawn to it, his legs almost moving on their own.

After what seemed like hours of walking, the source of the voice that had been calling him was across from him. The tall boy felt a different type of nervousness overcome him, the shaking replaced by a feeling of needing to disappear all together. All Akira could make out in the dim torchlight was a familiar set of glowing, golden eyes. Akira opened his mouth to call out to the figure, but his voice would not come forth. The two of them locked gazes for a moment, before the glowing eyes widened and the body they were attached to started cackling, as the sound of chains rattling overpowered him. Akira felt himself fading out of consciousness, and as he fell backwards he reached for the golden eyed figure that had come closer to loom over him.

The next time he opened his eyes, he had to squint to filter out the afternoon sun that filtered into the alleyway. He wiped sweat from his forehead and discarded the light jacket he always wore, even in the summer heat. He weakly crawled into the shade, and leaned back against the cool brick wall. He put his glasses in his lap and pushed his sticky bangs back off of his forehead, and let himself relax. His eyes fluttered closed, a long sigh escaping him to allow the boy to slip out of consciousness once again.

--

Ryuji frantically jogged through alleyways, panic slowly overcoming him. He tried relentlessly to reassure himself, but that did not work at all. Not that Ryuji had ever been very good at calming himself down. Suddenly his phone rang out loud, startling him, and forcing him to skid to a stop. Shooting pain through his thigh made him wince, And he grabbed it to roughly grind his palm into it to ease the pain that bubbled up from his old injury. After a few seconds he was able to ignore it and have a normal voice when he answered the phone. He took a deep breath, frustrated that someone was calling him right now, because it was easier to keep running instead of stopping and letting the pain catch up to him.

“I’m not coming back yet, there are still places that I haven’t-“

“Ryuji!! His tracker turned back on, suddenly without any explanation, and I’m still not sure why- Well, the reason why doesn’t really matter! You’re only a few blocks from him! He’s two blocks north of the supermarket! He isn’t moving, so you need to go over there and figure out what the hell is going on!”

Ryuji hung up without even responding and started to full on sprint towards the market, heart pounding, not allowing himself to feel the relief that had been creeping up on him just yet. He rounded the last corner he needed to, and his stomach fell and twisted when he saw Akira sitting on the ground, head leaning back on the wall.

“Akira! Shit, ‘Kira, wake up.” Ryuji threw himself to his knees in front of the other boy and gently shook him awake. Akira looked at him with confused eyes for a moment, before realizing where he was. “Akira. God, you’ve had me worried sick!” Ryuji started rambling, his nerves finally spilling out. “Where were you this whole time? Futabas tracker couldn’t even pick you up! She swears that would never normally happen!”

Akira tilted his head, and sloppily signed after a moment, “What do you mean, ‘tracker’?”

Ryuji instinctively started frantically signing along with his scattered thoughts. “Don’t even worry about that, you disappeared. For hours! I thought you were dead or something! Nobody knew where you were!” His face was twisted in a weird combination of relief, concern, and another emotion that even Ryuji couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“I’m sorry.” Akira signed, sitting up straighter and laying his hand heavily on Ryuji’s shoulder briefly as a sign of reassurance. “I think I passed out. I remember being dizzy… and I sort of forgot to eat this morning… I only had some coffee.” He smiled a soft, yet still stoic smile, and he knew his lie was believed when Ryuji looked at him with a kind, loving form of disapproval.

“You made me that fancy ass breakfast but didn’t actually eat yourself? Dude. I mean, I want to criticize you, but that is such an Akira thing of you to do.”

Ryuji stood up and offered Akira a hand to help him stand, his small wince not going unnoticed when he put his weight on his bad leg.

“Hey, lets get you a soda or something from the vending machine by the market. We’ll head back and start cooking our hot pot right away, and get some food into ya.” They started to walk together, Ryuji limping harder than his usual limp, and Akira actually feeling dizzy, despite his lie about not eating. He kept his arm wrapped around Ryujis, if not to keep himself steady than to give Ryuji something to lean on.

“Man, I’ll tell ya, we’re probably looking real rough right about now.” Ryuji observed with a chuckle. “How about you sit here for a sec while I grab your soda, and we can both take a breather before headin’ back?”

Akira nodded, and sat with a heavy breath. “I should text everyone and let them know you didn’t find me dead in an alley, I suppose.” Akira signed with a sense of sarcasm, smiling up at Ryuji.

Ryuji chuckled and shook his head in mock disapproval before walking off to grab his companion a sugar rush in a can. “You are such a smartass, sometimes.”

He smiled to himself while relief was finally allowed to was over him as he bought two sodas, and returned to the bench. He showed the boy the two sodas, offering to let him pick which one he wanted. Akira pointed to one and Ryuji settled in next to him on the bench. Akira let out one last heavy sigh after he took a large swig of his drink.

Akira, who could be as smug and sly as his Metaverse self on occasion, casually slipped his hand into Ryujis with a confidant grin, earning some sputtering from Ryuji, who was turning as red as the color of his can of pop. Akira gave his hand a squeeze as Ryuji slowly calmed and became comfortable with the new sensation. The blonde slowly tilted his head up and focused in on Akiras face, who was already staring at him.

“Hey, um, y’know, I’ve been thinking about, uh, some stuff? Like this kind of stuff…” He awkwardly stated, tripping over every other word. “And maybe, you’ve been thinking about it too? So-“

A black and white blur suddenly shot right into Ryujis stomach, and it yowled in anger when Ryuji instantly spilled soda all over it.

“M-Morgana?! What the eff, man!” Ryuji ripped his hand out of Akiras to detach a fuming cat from his lap. The rest of the former thieves all followed suit, with Yusuke bringing up the rear, huffing and puffing. Futaba started bickering with Ryuji, who was still trying to shake an angry cat off of himself, and Haru was trying to encourage Yusuke to breathe. Ann started yelling at both Futaba and Ryuji, all while Makoto shared a glace of helplessness to Akira, and then shook her head and held her forehead in her hand.

The commotion all stopped when Akira broke out into laughter, loud, genuine laughter bubbling up from his gut. Laughter that brought tears to his eyes and that made him hold his aching stomach. Laughter that was contagious. The other teenagers joined in, the laughter helping to nurture the newfound relief that washed over the group. Ryuji watched Akira with a smile, his chest feeling tight and warm.

Chapter Text

The trek back to Leblanc felt way longer than it actually was, but that was probably due to Akira still walking like he had been drinking all day long due to the dizziness, and Ryuji limping like an old man due to how much running he had done. The other thieves were kind though, and offered them shoulders to lean on, and although Ann teased Ryuji relentlessly at times, she was the first to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

Once inside the café that had never opened for the day, to the constant pestering of the rest of the group, Akira and Ryuji took a seat at a booth while the rest of the group got to work. Morgana sat up on the counter, chest puffed out, content to have everyone back together.

Futaba climbed on top of the counter, loudly clanging two ladles together.

“Alright troops! We’ve got two men down- one pretty useless in the kitchen, no offence Ryuji- and one is our best man! Our goal for today is to make the most delicious hot pot these two have ever tasted! You all have received your assignments! So let’s go!”

The fiery redhead hopped down with almost too much ease, and saluted the rest of the group, who all saluted back, with serious expressions on their faces. Well, except Ryuji, who was grumbling about his comment. Ignoring him, she hit play on a small stereo, and top 20 music spilled into the store. Akira let a small audible chuckle escape his lips, which earned a lighthearted smile from the blonde sitting across from him, suddenly forgetting his qualms about Futabas comment.

Ryuji watched the chaos ensue, and somehow managed to convince Makoto that even with a bum leg and even with Akira feeling a little woozy when he stood, they could in fact, at least cut the classic star shapes into the top of the mushrooms. When there were two cutting boards, knives and a huge pile of mushrooms in front of them, it was then Ryuji realized that he had no idea what he was doing. Akira smiled in amusement at Ryujis frustration. Ryuji wasn’t a novice in the kitchen, often cooking the days meals for him and his mom on his days off. The thing was, he never exactly worried about how the food looked.

Akira hummed and tapped on the tabletop to get the other boys attention. Once Ryuji was looking at him, he held up a mushroom and a knife, and motioned his head towards the pile for Ryuji to do the same. With a few skilled cuts with the knife, he had demonstrated how to make the star. Ryuji attempted to follow, and although sloppy, he had made something similar to a star and beamed happily. Akira grinned and clapped lightly at him, and they both continued with their chore.

Unknowingly to them, the others had paused with their cooking and had been watching the exchange.

“God, when are they going to date or something already?” Ann huffed, leaning her elbow on the counter and laying her head in her hand, tapping her fingers against her cheek.

“Do you really think they’ll get together at all?” Haru quipped from her station in front of the stove. “They seem so very… oblivious.”

“That is true.” Agreed Yusuke with a nod. “They’re either not aware of their feelings or we are misreading the entire situation, entirely.”

“Oh, says you. You’re like… Mr. Oblivious himself.” Futaba snorted at her own comment.

“What! I take offence to that. I am not that oblivious.” Yusuke retorted, crossing his arms.

Makoto chuckled to herself as she thinly sliced some beef. “You all are really too much. They’ll get there when they get there. Or not. It’s not really up to any of us, you know.”

Morgana let out an annoyed grunt. “They better not, I don’t want that obnoxious Ryuji here more than he has to be.”

Futaba less than gently ground her messy hand into the top of Morganas head. “C’mon Morganya, you’re not fooling anyone! You like Ryuji just as much as you like the rest of us!”

Morgana yowled loudly and ran to the other end of the counter, frantically beginning to clean himself.

The group focused more after sharing a good laugh together, and soon they had enough food to feed a small army. Everyone was pleased, but Ryuji was overly proud of his mushrooms. Once all of the hot pot, sides, dishes and drinks had been moved upstairs so the group could all eat at one table, everyone settled down and happily started to gather food into their individual bowls. Happy chatter filled the attic, and Akira laughed along with the jokes, and even gave a few single word answers.

About halfway through the meal, when everyone had slowed down in their eating, Akira yawned lazily and leaned back in his chair, absentmindedly laying a hand on Ryujis thigh. Ruiji flushed pink, all the way up to his ears, and this, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Ann, who was sitting on the other side of the blonde. She turned to him and shot him a knowing grin, nudging his leg with her knee. He shot her a glance of annoyance, and continued on with the meal. Ann however, didn’t have plans to let up on her teasing.

“So… you two see awfully close lately.” Ann quietly cooed, making sure that Makoto would not be able to hear her across the table. The older teen was distracted though, as Futaba and Yusuke were already arguing, with Makoto and Haru laughing as they tried to calm them.

Akira blushed as he heard Ann and realized what he had done, quickly snapping his hand back to his own lap, and turning the other way in embarrassment. Ryuji grunted at Ann in frustration, now more than a little annoyed at her meddling.

“Can’t you mind your own business?” He hissed at her, crossing his arms and leaning back further in his chair.

Ann squinted her eyes at Ryuji and leaned towards him further. “Of course I can. It’s just painful to watch you two…”

Akira loudly cleared his throat, and Ann took the hint and backed off. She meant well of course, but she came on so strongly, he was afraid that she’d scare Ryuji off.

The rest of the meal went on without a hitch, and Yusuke even got his porridge afterwards, which left him absolutely beaming. The group stayed together for awhile, laughing and chatting, until slowly, one by one, the heavy meal got to them and yawns started happening more often than laughs.

“Alright, I think it’s time we all start heading home.” Haru said with a small yawn.

Ryuji turned to Akira, quickly signing to him, “I’ll stay here again tonight?”

Akira nodded, and is if on cue, Ryuji’s cell phone rang. He stood and walked to the staircase to answer it, as everyone else got up to clean their messes.

Yusuke was silent for a minute, before speaking up. “I assume we’ll all meet here again tomorrow? Would it be an issue if I stayed over? I, uh… don’t exactly have enough money for an extra trip like that.” He almost whispered, sheepishly. Of course Akira smiled and nodded in agreement, not minding another body in the attic.

“Oh! I’ll stay here too then! We can finally watch that movie I’ve been telling you about! It’s animated, so just think of it as moving art.” Futaba beamed, clapping her hands together mischievously.

Yusuke sighed in response. “If it means not paying the train fair, yes, I will watch your childs movie…”

“It is not for children!” The redhead spat in response, the two starting to bicker as they cleaned up the table.

Haru sighed with a smile, as her, Ann and Makoto grabbed their bags.

“I have a car coming to take the three of us home. I’m sure we’ll figure out what we’re doing tomorrow over text!” She waved goodbye to Ryuji, who was still on the phone, and He made a point to wave to Makoto and Haru, and shoot Ann a glare instead. The three girls showed themselves out, Makoto asking Ann what the look was for. Futaba and Yusuke followed close behind to go gather sleepover material from the Sakura household, and of course, a collection of animated movies for the group to watch.

Akira waited patiently on the couch, and when Ryuji hung up his phone, he shoved it into his pocket with an annoyed huff.

“I can’t stay over tonight… I’ve got to go home. Our kitchen sink is broken and we don’t have the money for a plumber… I’ve gotta see if I can fix it.”

Akira nodded, disappointed, but not letting it show. He admired Ryuji for how willing he was to help out his mother when she needed it. He was a good boy.

           He stood up and approached the other boy, who was gathering his things to catch the last train. The black haired boy was patient, and waited for Ryuji to look at him before signing.

“Hey, I know it’s a little late, but I never had the chance to answer you before.”

Ryujis face fell and stared at him, totally unprepared for this conversation. Him bringing the two of them up had been spurred on by the wave of relief he felt when he found Akira, and the adrenaline that went with it. Currently, he was just scared away from the topic all together, mostly because of Anns teasing.

Akira paused for a long while, looking down for a moment before speaking, still signing along out of habit. Ryuji was frozen in place.

“I… thought about it. About, um, us.” Akiras hands shook slightly, feeling almost the same nervousness that he had felt earlier, and feeling strange to be actually speaking out loud. Ryuji was staring at him, almost not believing how Akira was practically coming apart at he seams. He’d hardly ever seen him like this.

Akira opened his mouth a few more times to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he walked forward and pulled Ryuji into a hug, which took him a moment to reciprocate. Ryuji held him tight and squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted this, he had decided- after soul searching a long time ago- but he didn’t think he was ready. Or if he’d ever be ready, for that matter.

After a moment Akira shyly pulled his head back to look at the other boy, and leaned in slowly to place a delicate kiss right at the corner of his mouth, more on his cheek than anything else. Ryuji trembled for a moment, but stayed completely still otherwise. He pulled back again after a few seconds to look at Ryuji, and then let him go, after seeing his face.

Ryuji was red, and wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation, as he was in fight or flight mode. His face was scrunched up in an array of confusing emotions. He stuttered out a jumbled reply and farewell before turning and literally running out of the café, leaving everything but his cell phone in his pocket behind, leaving a gloomy Akira, wondering if what he had just done would ruin everything. He stood there until he heard the distant noise of Futaba and Yusuke bickering, and frantically wiped the warm wetness off his face and headed downstairs to splash water on his face in the bathroom.

Chapter Text

Ryuji ran blindly until he all but collapsed, somehow managing to reach his destination with his mind blank most of the way. He hung around the subway station for a short while, still huffing and puffing as he boarded his train. He fidgeted nervously the whole ride, running home once he was off, which was actually a decent ways away from the station. If his legs were running, his mind was not.

Upon arriving home, he let his body rest against the wall outside his apartment door, sliding down to sit on the carpeted floor. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, running his fingers through his hair roughly, as if it would stop his out of control thoughts. He hated feeling this way, and honestly was very bad at dealing with his own emotions.

When he felt like he was better in control of himself, he took a deep breath and unlocked the door, and tossed his shoes off in the general direction of the shoe rack. “I’m home!” He loudly announced, silently cursing himself as he finally realized he left all of his things back in Leblanc, because Akira… Shaking his head as to shake the thoughts off, he trudged into the kitchen to find his mom.

“Oh whoa. You really meant… broken broken.” Ryuji muttered as he ran over to help his mom turn off their water as it sprayed from a broken pipe into their kitchen, as she valiantly tried to sop up water with towels; a battle she was losing.

After mostly everything had calmed down water-wise, Ryuji found himself under their kitchen sink fumbling around with pipes and wrenches, getting increasingly more frustrated. He moved his knee and it ended up squishing into a wet towel- basically every towel him and his mother owned were on their kitchen floor- and he angrily spewed some profanities. Usually conscious of language around his mother, he tensed when he heard her sigh lightly from the other side of the open cupboard door.

“So, what’s wrong?” She inquired calmly after a few moments.

Ryuji responded with a sigh, sitting back on his knees and wiping sweat from his forehead. At least a kitchen filled with soggy towels helped to kick the summer heat.

“Well, now that the water is turned off I can-“

“No, I asked you what was wrong. With you, not our sink.” She crossed her arms lightly.

Ryuji could feel his face twisting against his will. “Oh. Well, nothing.”

“Bullshit.” She responded, still calm.

“You just said bullshit.” Ryuji repeated her, staring upwards with wide eyes.

“I know what I said.” She waved it off, and straddled a mismatched wooden chair that she pulled over next to him. She laid her hands over the back of the chair and rested her cheek on her arm. “I know you plenty well, and I know when something is bothering you.”

Ryuji stared at his mom. She was a smart, hardworking woman, who despite working two jobs, and being constantly tired because of that, managed to do more for him than his deadbeat father ever did. She wore her midnight black hair in a side ponytail, which always draped over her shoulder like silk. Ryuji often teased her that she looked like a classic anime mom, which could be part of the reason she still wore it that way when she was home with him. Ryuji and his mom had a non-traditional relationship, bonded closer after leaving his father, together. He really thought of her more as a friend, and less as a mother figure.

“Am I that easy to read?” He chuckled as he stood, grabbing another chair. “Gosh, aren’t teens like, not supposed to want talk about this with their moms?”

“Eh.” She shrugged. “I’m not a regular mom-“

“You’re a cool mom. I know.”

They both shared a laugh for a few moments, before her face went serious again.

“Is it a girl?”

“Mom, c’mon… no.”

She raised an eyebrow, and watched his face contort again, involuntarily.

“So it’s a boy then.”

“Mom!”

“So it is a boy!”

“…So what if it is?” Ryuji, suddenly downcast, squished his cheek into his arm that mimicked his mothers, folded over the back of the straddled chair. “Even if there was something there, I’ve already… already fucked it up.”

“Ryuji-“

“No, Mom, like, I really did it this time. I literally ran from him. Like I run from everything, and it’s horrible to think like this, but the worst part is… is that he didn’t come running after me.”

Chapter Text

        Akira relished moments such as this. At least, he does now.

        He gave the batch of curry another swirl with the oversized ladle, ensuring it wouldn’t burn as he soaked in the quiet solitude that the small kitchen offered him.

        A rare respite from his friends turned watchdogs…

        It had been a week to the day since his “faint-esode” as Futaba put it, a week since his attempt at showing some form of response to Ryuji in terms of “them” (and his over-apparent failure thereof.) It had been 5 days since Akira had noticed he was never alone unless the bathroom was involved, realizing his friends were always around him (except for one, but he couldn’t blame him) in groups of 2 or more from dawn to dusk and then some if they slept over.

         It had been 3 days since the ravenette came to the realization that his dream and where he landed during said faint-esode were not only the same, but also something he needed to explore further to prove his hypothesis.

        It had been 2 days since his first failed attempt at splitting away from his babysitters and it was just last night he overheard why his friends were so adamant about having him spend his summer break with them, why Haru and Makoto were so open to meeting him on his own terms, why he was being treated like the child of the group instead of the dependable former leader from a year ago.

         Had he lost their respect when Morgana showed them what he was trying to keep hidden? This was EXACTLY why he didn’t mention this part of his life to them. He had no means of knowing how they’d respond but he knew it wouldn’t be good in any respect and now he knew his four-legged roommate was to blame.

         Damn cat…

        Akira heaved a scoffing sigh as his eyes were drawn back to the folded paper pocket nestled among the other spices lining the counter’s edge. Should he really be going this far? He could always wait until later on and-

        “AKIRA WE REQUIRE SUSTENANCE. THE MOVIE IS STARTINGGGGG!” Futaba called from upstairs loudly; jarring Akira enough to bump his arm into the simmering stew pot. Flinching back with a hiss, he quickly ran his arm under the sink, sparing one last glance at the paper parcel.

        You know what? Fuck it.

        Serving up three bowls of curry and one smaller dish for the cat, Akira proceeded to pour the packet, earthy powder innocently emptying into three of the four dishes and mixing it in without a trace. An herbal sleep aid, nothing drastic. Just enough to keep his friends occupied long enough for him to-

        “Akira do you require an extra hand? It has been some time since you left to prepare dinner.” Yusuke called.

        Upon reflex, Akira’s hand might have flinched and added a bit extra to the artist’s portion but there were no witnesses.

                                                                                                       .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

        It was 25 minutes into the movie when Futaba’s head lulled onto Yusuke’s shoulder, being the last victim of the sleep aid (more like knock out pills, these were overboard even by Tae’s usual standard.) Morgana was splayed out over the blanket atop Akira’s lap, mumbling mostly unintelligible things in his sleep while his paws kneaded the Sherpa material around him.

        Time to move.

        As gently as possible, the former thief inched his hands around the edges of the comforter, bunching it together into a wide lipped hammock around the sleeping ball of fur.

        It felt like an eternity had passed by the time his screaming muscles touched the precious cargo down into Futaba’s lap, earning a rush of relief through his arms as he let them hang by his sides. That cat needed to lay off the curry, he was at least 20 pounds now.

        Stepping back to inspect his work, Akira had to stop and marvel at the scene before him.

        All three were asleep in a pile on the futon, completely unaware of their surroundings. Yusuke was spread out diagonally, one arm curled into his lap and the other, formerly draped upon the top edge of the furniture now drooped over Futaba’s shoulder where she leaned into his form with copper hair splayed out along the futon’s upholstered backing, dainty hands gathered at her hip opposite of Yusuke. Her folded legs made a cradle for Morgana’s head to peek out with a satisfied tilt, tail curling along the opposite knee.

        Normally, the three would be constantly on each other’s toes, rarely seeing eye-to-eye. And now they were in a cuddle huddle.

        This was just too rich.

        The first picture he snapped with his phone let off a flash, lighting the entire room past the glow of the TV in the corner, the movie still running its course. Akira went rigid, holding his breath and watching in panic for any sign of stirring in the group. A second goes by, and another, and still no movement. He got off lucky.

        Fumbling silently with his phone to turn the flash function off (why do phones constantly forget you want that function off, it always acts up at the worst time), Akira dared to take a few more shots before walking towards the door.

        “Where do you think you’re going?” The raven haired boy froze to the spot at the top of the stairs, foot halfway down to the next step. Akira dared to turn his head a fraction towards the lump of fur in the corner.

        “Lady Ann it’s almost time for hotpohgbnmmmmowww….” Morgana nuzzled his face further into the plush comforter, mumbling other such things that Akira’s brain couldn’t comprehend past the utter nerve wracking relief he felt.

        Quickly gliding down the stairs in all the right corners (the stairs had specific creaking spots that must be avoided) and towards the door, the boy sighed as he held the bell upon slipping through the door and into the cool summer night.

        Akira didn’t know how he lived with that damn cat.

                                                                                                       .   .   .   .   .   .   .   . 

        There wasn’t much to it: an ordinary enough location, if it could be called that. A narrow yet relatively clean ally way cramped between two buildings not a minute’s walk from the subway entrance Akira once took on his way to school. The same ally he’d used as a short cut on his way to the supermarket a week ago.

        There was nothing particularly remarkable about the small passageway; simple concrete and brick walling with some signs of wear and tear. Nothing to suggest why the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end, or why the air here seemed just that much colder with each step he took, closer to the entrance.

        The entrance to what however was the question. It was exactly for that reason Akira was here in the first place. Steeling himself with the reminder that he’s seen and dealt with worse than proving an educated guess with some recon, he looked down at the device in his hand.

        A guess proven right, according to the icon radiating red from his phone’s display screen.

        With one last intake of breath, he closed his eyes and stepped into the shadow that marked where the light from the street lamps ended.

        Once the wave of vertigo faded, Akira found himself leaning against one of the archways that marked between the ruined subway tunnels he once woke up to before and the archaic structure of tunnels ahead of him. Looking down, he discovered his clothing hadn’t changed, which could only mean whoever owned this place hadn’t taken notice of him yet, or at least didn’t see him as a threat.

         Taking to a steady pace through the dimly lit tunnels-slowly-turning-hallways, Akira finally had enough quiet to be left to his thoughts.

         There was no going back after this.

         Of course there wasn’t, he thought.

         He drugged his friends to have a moment’s peace long enough to scout out a crazy notion with unknown implications.

         Alone.

         With no backup.

         Thoughts that apparently, were not very supportive of his current actions…

         But what choice did he have? To immediately alert everyone of his hunch would have either caused them to laugh in his face or trigger varying degrees of panic. (Probably the latter considering how delicately they’ve been treating him as of late…)

        This left him with the only choice of looking into the matter himself and an introvert needs space to properly operate, which was difficult, seeing as not one of his friends had left him be since he set foot back in town and even less so after his second encounter with the place he was mapping out at the moment.

        Speaking of his surroundings, this fifth archway marked where he had departed the last time he was here, after seeing…

        Akira shook his head to clear the ochre echo of eyes boring into him and walked with more intent past the hollowed out alcoves in the brick and stone lining the halls, paying little mind to their contents but being that much more wary for sound and movement not his own.

        With each bend in the passage, the halls seemed to steadily widen, the stonework becoming cleanly crafted. With each chamber, more remains populated the walls, stacked neatly along built in shelves and in grooves along the walls that created patterns as Akira passed them, lit by the same cold torches and braziers dotting his path.

        Looking up, he noticed the ceiling has been climbing with the inclined detail of the walls, adding a sense of macabre grandeur to his surroundings. He suddenly felt much smaller.

        Continuing on through the halls, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of familiarity with not the halls that surrounded him, but the movements of walking through them; the sensation of doing this many times before. Then again, this is the metaverse, the atmosphere itself always has a taste of nostalgia or deja vu to it depending on the environment it would plant you into.

        With a gradual progression he almost missed, the bones began growing in size and shape, embedding themselves in the walls as intact forms too familiar to pass off as coincidence. Some with armor, others with carved stone to resemble robes and sashes. The boy picked up his pace to match his thoughts. All of them. They all held poses and looks that felt as though Akira knew them and it was unsettling.

        Monstrous remains of spirits, chimeras, and humanoids decorated the mural-esque walls until it suddenly opened into a huge expansive room, causing Akira to skid out of the run he hadn’t realized he’d broken into, breathing hard.

        The air here rang with silence minus the echoed crackles and spits of flame braziers lighting the walls. The room itself was a circular atrium, spanning wide on either side of where he stood. The first detail that stood out to him was the statue that barely touched its pedestal in the center of the chamber.

        An unmistakable rendition of his very own Arsene many times his normal size stood facing his direction, wings splayed, one arm holding a ball of flame at his side while the other touched the rim of his hat, head bowed just enough as if to make eye contact with those entering from the very hall Akira just stumbled through. Deeming it safe to enter further, Akira came to a halt several yards from the statue and marveled at his new vantage point.

        Eleven gaping halls lead in all directions, spread evenly along the edge of the chamber. Each was masterfully carved yet no gateway looked the same, bearing a symbol upon the top of their archways. Wandering eyes drifted upward to the domed ceiling that seemed like it could have been a skylight at one time before it was covered with stone. Spider-webbed glass could be seen still holding on for dear life under the pressure of the earth above.

        Before he realized, the boy found himself circling around the empty fountain that the stone Arsene perched upon, taking in the entirety of the room. With such a grand structure, Akira had to wonder where the shadows were. Usually there were at least a few guards to every hall back in the palaces he and the others had cleared in the past, yet the only sign of shadows were their depictions and remains in the halls before this one. Not that he was complaining, said halls were… unsettling enough.

        Coming to a stop behind the fountain, he again was drawn to the symbols adorning the gates, specifically to the gate that he now faced head on, and the matching symbol above its door.

        A perfect oversized replica of his Joker mask.

        Before shock and awe could properly set in, just as the urge to properly inspect the other gates was beginning to turn his heel for him, a sound crept up the walls from behind.

        Hissing metal and clinking chains were his only warning to duck as a swath of steel whirled past his head, embedding itself in the bridge of the gateway’s mask and splintering the dense stone around it with a deafening crack.

        Akira twisted around, following the swinging chain embedded in the archway back to its origin- the darkness enveloping Arsene’s back. A pair of sulphur yellow eyes met his with a predatory gleam. The blade freed itself from the stone with a flourish, crumbling the gateway in its wake, but it failed to distract the thief from breaking eye contact.

        He unconsciously reached with an ungloved hand for his own blade in a coat pocket that wasn’t there.

        Shit.

                                                                                                       .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

        Morgana sighed contentedly from his place in Ann’s lap.

        Today had been lovely thus far; a quaint hotpot just for two after a stroll in the park at the peak of the cherry blossoms and cuddle time afterwards to boot.

        “Morgana?” Oh that angelic voice, he could lay here and listen to its sweet serenade all day.

        The cat stretched and looked up to his beloved-

        And found the most horrific travesty of his life.

        Hair standing on end and claws unsheathed, the cat was face to face with Igor, whom seemed as unperturbed as ever, but his grin seemed especially wide this evening in the velvet room.

        “Hello Morgana, I hope this evening finds you well.”

        Damn this old man and his addiction to dramatic flair.

        “And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Morgana ground out, licking his shoulder flat once he jumped from Igor’s lap to the desk. Playing along with pleasantries was the best way for this to be over with quickly after all.

        “This sudden visit is not a pleasant one at all I’m afraid, but of urgency.” Igor responded, losing the extra mirth to his permanent smirk. “Our fool is in need of assistance only you can offer with my help.”

        “What do you mean? Akira is safe and sound in his room with Futaba, Yusuke, and I, and besides, the metaverse chapter was closed with the fall of Mementos. The only danger left are his parents and we only need one more year to be free of them.” The cat stated.

        “I assure you he is not where you think he is. There is little time for debate in this matter my child, our friend runs even now from a monster he cannot fight. I will supply the means to pluck him from his own ruin, but it must be you to put the tools to work.” Igor responded, voice gaining a stern edge.

        “Oooookay, so when do I leave for this rescue mission?” Morgana stood up with his tail straitened out behind him. He had his doubts but he knew better than to argue the point further. This was his Master after all.

        “Now.” Igor’s voice echoed and distorted with Morgana’s surroundings as he felt the familiar pull and warp of reality around him resettling itself into another place entirely.

        Giving a brisk shake to rid himself of the last dregs of sleep, he took in his new surroundings. A sizable stone carved room with a twelve foot black marble table accompanied by nine red velvet chairs. Tarps were strewn around the furniture, some covering the chairs, others already sagging off onto the floor. Above hung a brass and iron chandelier, grey from dust yet it was still lit and fit the room in perfect proportion.

        Populating the walls were numerous shelves and knick-knacks, sacks and chests full of oddities that begged the curiosity in the feline to approach. A larger tarp covered the wall opposite of the only door in the room, but Morgana paid it little mind. This space had the hallmarks of a safe room and that could only mean-

        A hollowed bellow from beyond the thick oaken door reverberated through the stone floor and shook dust from the chandelier above, causing Morgana to jump a foot in the air and bringing him back to the present.

        Searching for a way through to the outside wasn’t hard however, as Igor gave him the “tools to use” indeed. A gap in the middle of the door spanned a square foot, creating a sliding screen-like piece that would easily be opened or closed from side to side. Upon closer inspection, gold gilded and flowing script spelled “Morgana” along the edge of the miniature doorway.

        A cat flap.

        Morgana was going to kill him.

        What an outrage! In the metaverse he can still open the-

        It was then he also realized he was still on all fours. No bipedal humanoid form anymore. Right. He forgot about that.

        Sliding through the personalized door with ease (he would never call it by its name again,) Morgana was struck by the sheer size of the space he now found himself in. Before him stood a statue of Akira’s persona, its presence alone leaving a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach not to mention the pile of rubble to his right that marked a blocked hallway and gouged marks in the stone surfaces around him.

        No time for that now, where did that sound come from? Straining his ears, the cat was rewarded with frantic footsteps from the left, down the hall the persona statue was facing, and approaching fast.

        The gloom was no hindrance for the feline’s eyes, and what he saw made him freeze after the few yards of an attempted run.

        Akira in civilian clothes was full on sprinting out of the hall, losing his footing once or twice as he struggled to keep his headway on what looked like a billowing mass of shadow trying to slice him in two.

        Morgana scrambled back for the door, leaping at its handle and digging his claws into the wood for purchase. He spared a glance over his shoulder at a metal “shunking” sound as - whatever that was, no time for introductions – buried its blade into the stone floor inches from Akira’s back.

        “JOKER!” Morgana yelled, gaining the attention of the obviously flagging boy, who began changing his trajectory for the cat and the door he was desperately trying to open.

        The blade was lodged tightly in the earth below, the shadow struggling to free it. This bought Akira time to reach the door and snag a hold of the handle, momentum from the run wrenching him to the side and dislodging the heavy door from its latched position a crack. It opened.

        Realizing it was losing ground, the creature left its blade to attempt the chase without it, gaining speed once more with a hiss until the connecting chain choked it backwards like a dog on a short leash.

        The strangled cry didn’t stop the two from their efforts of closing the door behind them, wincing at the beast’s bellowing and rattling chains just beyond the door. With heaving breath they backed away from the towering oak slab.

        “You ok?” Morgana asked through gulps of air.

        A nod of matted moppy hair was his answer as stilt legs began to sway.

        “What the HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE doing?” Morgana’s reprimand fizzled as he noticed the blood streaking down Akira’s left brow, the slight glaze hazing his eyes and the dangerous lean in the boy’s form.

        Akira successfully signed the sloppiest “I’m fine” Morgana had ever seen to date before crumpling to the side and meeting the stone floor with a hard thud.

Chapter Text

Ryuji groaned as he rolled over in his bed, laying his phone, message in progress, on his chest. He’d been trying to draft the perfect message for the better part of a hour now, but couldn’t seem to get the words right while actually sounding… sincere. Him and his mom had talked at length about his current situation, and he’d promised her before she left for her double shift that he’d finally do something about it today. He eventually took a deep breath of courage and picked up his phone, deleting the draft and staring at the blank text screen under “Ann” for what felt like the hundredth time.

Ryuji> Im real sorry about the hotpot night and avoiding you all week, if you come over and watch a movie with me or somethin ill buy us a pizza

Ann> Aww Ryuji, I wasn’t mad at you. I think I owe you an apology anyway. I’ve been super pushy, and it’s not really my place.

Ryuji> Yeah well. Dosent matter now theres nothing to push for really

Ann> What does that mean?

Ryuji> I know this is lame but im really upset and id really like it if you came over

A loud sigh escaped the faux blondes lips, and he tossed his phone to the side after not receiving a reply right away. It wasn’t like Ann to not respond right away while in the middle of a conversation, and it honestly annoyed him to no end currently. Of all times to ignore him! After he’d genuinely asked for a shoulder to lean on. What a pain.

He eventually focused more on a challenging word game than his own brooding, so much that when the doorbell to the apartment rang, he dropped his cell phone right onto his face. Rubbing his forehead, he got up and cautiously approached the door, and looked through the peephole.

“W-what the heck are all of you doing here?” He frantically fumbled with the chain lock, and threw open the door and stared at the three girls in front of him in total confusion.

Ann sprang forward and hugged him around the neck, before backing off and excitedly showing him a few shopping bags with jazz hands.

“Weeeellll… we were going to have a girls night tonight anyway while Yusuke and Futaba continue their movie marathon at Akiras… So we decided to have it here, with you! It sounded like you could use some pampering and opinions!”

Haru giggled and pulled a box out of one of the shopping bags. “Plus, your roots are showing.”

--

So there they were, Ryuji with a plastic back on his head as his bleach set, sitting in a circle on the floor in his room. They all had a spoon, and were unceremoniously eating out of a giant tub of chocolate ice cream in the center of the circle. Anns idea, naturally.

“Your room is really clean, Ryuji.” Makoto offered, nodding in approval.

“Didja think it’d be dirty?” Ryuji asked, genuinely surprised.

“Well, no, but I really didn’t think it’d be this impeccable.” Makoto quickly added, trying not to offend.

“Well, uh, I do most of the cleaning. It bugs me when things are out of place, y’know?” Ryuji grabbed another spoonful of ice cream, embarrassed blush spreading to his cheeks.

“I mean, I thought it would be dirty.” Ann quipped, dramatically shrugging, clearly trying to push buttons.

“Ann I swear-“

“Now, now, children.” Haru cooed, covering her mouth, giggling.

Things went on like this for awhile, Ryuji being poked at, and the girls laughing. It was all in good fun, and Ryuji was grateful to have something to smile about. Soon his phones timer sounded, and he excused himself to the bathroom to rinse his hair.

“Is anyone going to bring it up?” Ann whispered to the other two girls.

“I want him to talk to us about it. I’d feel weird bringing it up, especially since we only know what he cryptically texted you.” Haru sighed, uncrossing her legs.

“It’s killing me.” Ann angrily scooped up the last of the ice cream.

“Yeah, but you’re always impatient.” Makoto smiled warmly at the pouting pigtailed girl.

“I mean, yeah, but I’m actually worried about him. You’re not blind or stupid, I know you see him avoiding Akira and Leblanc all together. Something had to have happened. They were all gooey like a week and a half ago!”

Haru stifled yet another giggle. “I like that you admit your impatience. I do agree, though. We know Akira seems off, but even more so than usual.”

“…Argh. It drives me totally nuts.” Ann flopped back in frustration, and began pulling elastics from her pigtails, shaking her hair out before sitting up again and combing it with her fingers. “I felt like things were going so well for both of them, and I want to help but I can’t.”

Makoto raised an eyebrow, stretching out her legs into the middle of the circle. “Yes, we all saw what happened the last time you tried to help, didn’t we?”

“Listen, Momkoto, we all make mistakes.”

“Well yes, but hadn’t we just told you to let it be?” Haru added, covering her shoulders in a blanket provided by Ryuji, which had shiba inus printed all over it, in various sweaters.

“Maybe, but-“ Ann got cut off by the sound of Ryujis door opening, and him walking in. He looked almost normal compared to his usual style, a plain, well loved grey t-shirt and a pair of maroon pajama pants.

“I think you guys got bleach on my forehead… you all look so serious, what were you talking ‘bout?” He sat down on the floor with a thwump and continued vigorously rubbing his hair with his towel, not noticing the glances shared between the girls.

Ann made a face at Makoto when she mouthed ‘no’ to her, then turned to him. Makoto and Haru shared a glance and then simultaneously sighed. At least Ann meant well.

“Ryuji… why did you text me earlier? It was really cryptic and honestly, I’m worried.” She spat the words out, and then held her breath for an answer.

Ryuji froze, peaking out from under the towel. The air in the room was suddenly heavy, and Ryuji let out a long sigh.

“Akira, he… he kissed me.” Ryuji’s voice was a whisper.

“…And that’s a problem?” Ann answered, frustration obvious in her voice. The other two girls shared a glance and stayed silent, allowing the conversation to play out.

“Yes, because I literally ran away.”

“Like… you physically ran from him?”

“…It doesn’t matter.”

“Uh, pretty sure it does! Tell us what happened!”

“Ann, leave him be. If he doesn’t want to talk-“

“But Makoto, if he doesn’t talk he-“

“God dammit you guys. I ran away! I forgot all my things, literally ran out of Leblanc, to the station, and then all the way back home. My mom had flooded the kitchen and apparently I am very easy to read and we talked about it, but… I’m afraid to go back I guess? I mean come on. Who runs when the person you… you like kisses you? He hasn’t even tried to contact me, which isn’t like him. We talk every damn day, and I’m too scared to message him. I always run. Always have.”

Stunned silence followed, while Ryuji buried his head into his hands.

Ann suddenly was much calmer, moving closer to the other blonde. She rubbed gentle circles on his back, and he leaned slightly against her.

            “Oh Ryuji.” Is all Makoto said, sympathetically moving to his other side and mimicking Anns uncharacteristically motherly actions. “You still like him, right?”

            Ryuji furiously scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palms, not used to getting this emotional, let alone this close to crying in front of friends.

            “…Yeah.”

            Makoto continued on, softly and reassuringly.

            “We know for a fact he likes you. If I know Akira at all, he’s going to wait for you to make the next move. He’s not going to want to pressure you. He most likely realized that he spooked you.”

            “Or he hates me now.”

            “He wouldn’t hate you for something so small, I assure you.” Ann gave him a reassuring pat on the back, nodding her thanks to Makoto for the well-timed words of encouragement. “He thinks the world of you. He has from the very beginning.”

            “Sure…” Ryuji agreed half-heartedly, obviously not convinced.

            All of a sudden, Haru, who had been suspiciously silent during all of this leapt to her feet, staring wide-eyed at her phone.

            “D-did you get the same message as I did? Yes, it was in the group chat… We need to get to Leblanc. Now.”

All suddenly panicked, the three that were still seated grabbed for their phones, and when Ann was successful first, they all crowded around her phone.

> Emergency

> Akira hurt

>This is mona I need help

>Futaba and yusuke wont wake up

>Please hurry not a joke

Chapter Text

            Morgana forced his eyes open and gave himself a violent shake to ward off the last effects of the impromptu exit phase. He was back in La Blanc’s attic. Ok, that’s good news. That damn old man had quite the way with timing and aiming his phase jumps, though a little warning would’ve been nice. Still, finding a traditional exit in the state they were in would’ve been next to impossible without-

            “Akira!” Morgana bristled, leaping to the mess of limbs and raven locks heaped on the bed. Looking his friend over, he prodded his face a few times while calling for him with no response before pressing his nose to Akira’s neck. Relief washed over the cat as he was met with a steady pulse, he’ll take it.

            A snore from the corner of the room brought Morgana back to his current surroundings. The attic was dimly lit by the TV’s menu screen constantly looping the movie trailer and illuminating the tangle of frames nestled on the futon, still out cold.

            The feline bounded over and attempted multiple times to wake them in a similar manner with the same results. Morgana growled, there was no time for this!

            Desperate, he hopped back to Akira and fished the cellphone from the teen’s pocket, unlocking it after a few failed attempts. Activating the text app and enabling the XXL keyboard feature as Akira taught him, he painstakingly set to work pecking out his messages in the group chat thread (curse these crowded paw pads, always hitting several touch screen buttons at once.)

            There! Last message sent! They’re vague but hopefully help will arrive sooner for that reason. It didn’t take long for a response, as eternal as those three minutes were.

            Haru> We are on our way.

            Ann> Can you unlock the front door? Makoto’s driving, we’ll be there in 15 minutes!

            Makoto> 10 minutes.

            For not the first time Morgana was thankful for Makoto’s speed streak, however repressed it may be in low stress situations. Greatful for something to do instead of sitting pretty like some damsel, he made quick work of the stairs and took a running start before jumping for the door’s handle, claws scratching glass panels with a small screech as his teeth met their mark around the locking switch and gave it a good twist of his neck. The click was a satisfying note of victory as he landed on his paws soundlessly. All this recent door scrambling practice has been paying off, he’s getting good at this, though he wasn’t sure if he should be proud of that fact.

            Now about the lounging lovebirds…

            Returning to the occupied futon, Morgana had to admit to himself, Yusuke curling around the coil of copper bedhead in his lap was rather cute. Makoto may have been on to something here.

            Not as cute as Ann but still cute.

            Ultimately, he had to break it up. Balancing on what felt like Futaba’s shoulder underneath the Sherpa throw, Morgana lined himself up nose to nose with Yusuke’s peaceful face and called his name a few more times with increasing volume before batting the living crap out of his cheeks with both paws. No response. Not even a flinch. What the hell put such a light sleeper into this kind of stupor? The guy didn’t seem to even need sleep during the time he stayed here after Madarame’s palace.

            Fine, he’d try his luck one more time with Cryptid Kid, but he held no hope for his labors. Futaba was well renowned for her slumbering prowess but he would give one last attempt for Akira’s sake. Hopping down onto Yusuke’s knee, Morgana prepared to repeat the same waking procedure, resting his paws on Futaba’s cheeks to gain better balance in his back legs.

            The door down stairs slammed open with a clattering bell and stomps assaulted the stair well at breakneck speed, spooking Morgana’s claws out of safety mode and right into the sides of Futaba’s face.

            Mulberry eyes flew open and a yelp escaped her as the hacker jerkily came back to the world of the living, only to be met by shocked blue eyes and frazzled fur blocking her vision. Another yelp and panicked flailing dislodged the three from the safety of the futon, plopping them onto the floor in front of the staircase just as Makoto, Ann, Haru, and Ryuji were coming upon the top step.

            The four-man swat team stopped in their tracks at the sight laid before them: Morgana had already removed himself from Futaba’s shocked face as she realized who was pinning her to the floor. Yusuke, the poor soul, was groggily trying to get a grip on his surroundings due to the disturbance, butt angled up in the air and hands dangerously close to places they should never be.

            There was a moment of quiet shock as everyone’s brains struggled to grip what was happening at this late hour of night.

            Time resumed its normal pace upon Futaba’s foot meeting Yusuke’s face, forcing him backwards as she rolled away, standing up rigidly and beet red while the artist, now reeled back and leaning against the foot of the futon, held his nose in one hand.

            “What the hell Inari??!”

            “Wh-what did I do? We were watching your children’s movie not long ago, did I nod off? Why are you all here?” Yusuke mumbled past his hand, acknowledging the other four for the first time.

            Makoto, still blocking the other three on the steps, stared at them for only a moment longer before turning to Morgana. “Where is Akira?”

            “On the bed, he’s out cold- and mind his head!” Morgana was all too happy to change the subject back to the issue at hand as the entire group rushed over to their friend.

            “Wait, what’s going on?” Futaba’s voice gave away her unease at the sudden change in tone before meeting the prone form that was now being held in Haru’s lap as she perched at the edge of the bed.

            Haru gingerly tilted Akira’s head down and to the side for a better view. Makoto hissed at the flaking blood in his hairline and Ryuji wasted no time pulling out the first aid kit he was carrying from his house. Ann began pacing uncomfortably, anxiously hovering just out of the way.

            “Yeah Morgana, you’ve got some explaining to do!” Ann demanded, glad to have something to fixate on other than their former leader’s slack facial features.

            “I-I don’t even know where to begin-“ Morgana began paws shifting rapidly as his tail twitched nervously.

            “How about you start by telling us how the hell Akira got hurt in the first place?? Last I checked we were all safe and sound watching our movie and now everyone’s here and he’s out cold?!” Futaba raised her voice. She never was keen on being out of the loop.

            “We’ll worry about that later, right now let’s just take care of Akira, ok?” Makoto’s words were calm. The kind of calm that held an authority that warned against making waves and the others knew better than to oppose it. For now, Akira’s injuries came first.

            Ryuji was surprisingly quiet during the whole ordeal as he lifted each of his friend’s eyelids and flickered the small flashlight in each, a small growl escaping his clenched jaw.

            “I think whatever he scraped his head on might have caused a slight concussion. It’s hard to tell, his eyes are dilating, they’re just taking their damn time with it.” The punk announced, not missing a beat with rubbing what had to be the fifth antiseptic wipe on the gash above his hairline, trying again to clear enough away to properly see the injury.

            “How would you know?” Morgana’s tone more curious than condescending for once.

            “In any sport it’s a good idea to know first aid. I’ve just had a bit more practice…” Ryuji replied, face scrunching unconsciously at the memories this first aid kit brought back to mind and they were going right back where they came from because this wasn’t the time or place for them. “Anyway, normally a bump like this wouldn’t put a person out cold for long, let alone cause too much besides a headache and maybe some dizziness, but it’s already been like half an hour since we received your text, right?” He changed the subject, closing the first aid kit.

            “He was pretty exhausted when I came across him again. His body must need the rest.” The cat explained. His comment brought Ann back to the fray and was about to ask for more information when Haru beat her to it.

            “After tonight I think we all should rest. All that matters at the moment is that Akira’s safe.” Her kind voice smoothed over the group’s tensions as she sent a glance towards Makoto and motioned subtly over to Futaba’s drooping frame and Yusuke slumped in his same position next to the futon, already dead to the world once more. She took the hint.

            “I agree, the story of how this came about can wait until morning. For now, let’s just pull out the extra bedding and get some sleep.” Makoto stated more than offered, but the stern words brought comfort to everyone's nerve-fried minds.

            “I’ll keep watch. You know, just in case.” Ryuji’s immediate responded.

            “Good idea, I’ll stay with you and we’ll each take turns in pairs?” Makoto chimed in.

            A host of sleepy nods approved the notion, and within minutes, the other reluctant five were breathing deeply in their scattered mounds of blankets.

            Giving another few minutes of silence for good measure, Makoto finally found it safe to speak her mind.

            “You did well taking care of him so quickly you know.” She opened with a whisper. Ryuji absentmindedly continued fussing with Akira’s hair, still damp from the antiseptic. He faithfully took the bait.

            “Yeah well, knowing what to look for is half the battle. Actual treatment’s another story. I only did what I knew to do.” He responded quietly, still not meeting the girl’s gaze.

            She then cut to the chase.

            “I may not have much experience, but I know how you two kept contact almost every day while he was away. He smiles every time he sees you or if your name is mentioned.” Makoto continued, gently draping an extra blanket over the prone boy leader in Ryuji’s lap, of which she wisely did not bring to attention. “I also know that, for the last week, he’s been looking expectantly at the café door when we would arrive, then after a moment, his shoulders would deflate again, almost like he was waiting for one more to walk in.”

            The blonde finally met her eyes and Makoto had to steel herself because oh Lord in heaven did he look like a lost puppy. He has it bad.

            “I dunno anymore,” he said, “I guess the only thing to do is try to figure that out after all this is sorted first though. I can deal.”

            She let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and gave a gentle smile.

            “And thanks.” Ryuji added after a long moment.

            Makoto hummed in response as they both listened to the crickets outside.

Chapter Text

Ryuji had fallen asleep with his fingers tangled in Akiras hair not long after the heart to heart with Makoto, who had draped a blanket over his shoulders, and propped his head up with a pillow. Makoto had switched off her watch shift an hour or so later, waking up Ann for her shift with a glimmer in her eye, holding her index finger up to her lips and gesturing towards the boys with a nod of her head.

Morning came quickly, the others switching off all night, the previous guardian making the same gestures as Makoto, and the new sentry making the same soft expression as Ann had.

Ryuji was actually the first to awake in the morning, besides Yusuke who sat at a stool by the foot of the bed… sketching them?! Ryuji’s first reaction was to lash out, but when the mop of black curls below him nuzzled into his hand subconsciously in his sleep, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He cleared his throat, and Yusuke looked up, offering nothing more than a nod that acknowledged that he had awoken. Ryuji’s face burned red with annoyance, but his eyes stayed soft as he went back to watching the mop of curls on his lap take gentle, steady breaths. Worried as he was, it was calming to see the other boy resting and relaxed.

The others awoke slowly in the morning, Futaba needing more than one person to take a go in getting her to stay awake. All of the group were speaking in hushed voices, before Ryuji signed to them as to not wake Akira, “Go have some breakfast, I’m sure Haru can make you coffee, I’ll stay up here until he wakes.”

Haru smiled and nodded gently, wearing the same soft expression as Makoto had the night before. “You can count on me!”

As if on cue, as the group was collectively going down the stairs, the little bell rang after the click of the lock echoed up the stairs, and Futaba shared a nervous glance with Yusuke.

“We’ve gotta fill him in… and we don’t even know what’s going on yet. This should go over swimmingly.”

--

“So let me get this straight.” Sojiro sighed, as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Akira is upstairs, unconscious, with a minor head injury, but it’s nothing to worry about because it’s somehow Phantom Thieves business… and now we’re going to listen to the cat explain what happened?”

Futaba grinned nervously as she rocked back and forth on her feet.

“I mean, it sounds absolutely horrible when you say it like that, but yeah, basically.”

Sojiro sighed again, settling his glasses back into place, and putting on his apron, hand naturally falling onto his hip like it usually did. “Fine. Drinks on the house, but someone better act as my translator.”

“You got it, Boss! I’ll claim the position!” Ann shot him a thumbs up.

Sojiro put on his apron and casually began making various drinks for the group- knowing how they all preferred them by now.

“Where is the loud one?”

Makoto snickered with a hand covering her mouth.

“Ryuji? Upstairs. Akira is sort of asleep on him. We figured we shouldn’t wake him.”

            A grunt of acknowledgement came from the older man, as he continued to expertly craft the beverages.

            “Well, lets begin my story. I don’t have a good feeling about it…”

Morgana began his story while Ann walked over to the counter and began explaining to Sojiro what was being said.

            “I was dreaming… apparently me, Futaba and Yusuke fell asleep after we ate dinner… And in my dream, Master appeared to me.”

            “Master?” Sojiro whispered to Ann.

            “Err… His name is Igor, he’s the master of the Velvet room. He helped us out during the events last year.”

            “Velvet room… right.”

            Morgana cleared his throat, and swished his tail in annoyance, and then continued. “He told me that Akira was in trouble… that he wasn’t where he thought he was. He was fighting a monster he had no chance of winning against. I was then told that I would be sent on a rescue mission.”

“A rescue mission… to where exactly?” Haru quipped, now sipping delicately on the coffee she had been served.

“It was undoubtedly the Metaverse.”

“But we-“

“I know… but we didn’t. Somehow, not all of it was destroyed. I was there. It was huge, unlike and palace we’ve ever been in- and Akira was being chased.”

Morgana let out a deep sigh, and sat in silence for a moment.

“If Igor hadn’t intervened, he wouldn’t have made it back. He was in a bad way. We found a safe room, and he passed out before I could even ask him anything. I have no idea how he got there, what he was doing there… I don’t know anything about it.”

            The group sat in silence, Morgana's ears plastered to his head.

Sojiro stretched out his arms, and broke the silence first, slipping his apron off and hanging it back up after it’s brief time being worn.

“Do I understand much of what the cat just told us? No, but I do know you all have work to do. I trust you all to take care of the kid. Let me know if I can do anything more to help aside from closing the café for you all to use as headquarters. Just put your cups in the sink when you’re done. I’ll leave you to your work.”

He gave them all a trusting nod, reaching out to Makoto, dropping a key into her hand.

“I trust you not to lose the key to the café. Please, feel free to come here whenever you all need to.”

And with that, he was gone, with a jingle of the bell. He has work to do, and paperwork to look into.

--

 Akira jolted upright, almost slamming Ryuji straight in the face with his head. He frantically was looking around, eyes wild and confused.

Where am I? The Attic? How did I get back here?

A firm grip on his shoulder startled him deeply, and he whipped his head around to stare Ryuji, expression soft and full of worry, in the face.

Akira pulled himself free of the gentle touch, and stumbled backwards, frantically signing. “Why are you here?”

Ryuji looked at him, dumbfounded. “What do you mean, why am I here? Where were you that you got yourself injured?”

Akira gritted his teeth, signing faster, angrier. “None of your business. I need to go.”

“No, you don’t! You’re hurt! You need to rest, and tell us what’s going on, so we can help you! What the hell makes you think you need to run off and get into trouble on your own?!” He practically yelled, grabbing onto Akiras shoulders and giving him a gentle shake.

“Again, none of your business! Why do you care what I do all of a sudden?”

“What do you mean, all of a sudden?! Dude! I-I care about you more than anyone!”

Akira pulled out of the blondes grip to grab his phone, and made his way for the stairs, but not before Ryuji reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, turning him back around.

“Dude! I don’t care what’s going on, but damn! Stop trying to run from me!”

Akira stared him dead in the eyes, and then spoke, softly, almost darkly.

“Why? You ran from me.” He spat, abruptly ripping his hand out if the other boys grip, turning without a second thought, and running down the stairs.

He ignored the cry of his name that followed him down the stairs, and tried to ignore the group gathered around the booth, but failed as Futaba stood up and looked up at him with pleading eyes.

He gazed downwards, feeling the fire burning behind his eyes only strengthen when Futaba gasped softly. His eyes burned the same blood red that they were in the Metaverse. He scoffed and pushed her out of the way, and ran out the door before anyone even had a chance to object.

Yusuke and Haru were immediately at her side to comfort her, assuming she’d be near tears at this point. Instead, she pulled out her phone with shaky hands, whimpering to herself when she saw the icon on her home screen. She pressed it, and said barley loud enough for the others to hear, “Akira Kurusu.” And held her breath for the moment that the app took to process.

Then the phone responded, loudly enough for even Ryuji, who was now sulking down the stairs heard. Futabas whole body shook when it finally reacted.

“Palace found.”

Chapter Text

             The red icon continued blinking as if impatiently awaiting its next prompt as the silence in the room continued.

            “He has a… How can that be?” Makoto found her voice among the wreckage of her thoughts first, however small it was.

            “This can’t be right, there’s no way.” Ann stammered, sinking further into her seat as her frame grew more rigid. She looked to Morgana, unconsciously willing the cat to provide some form of sense for the teens, but the feline continued staring at the phone in Futaba’s hands in silence.

            “It must have been a mistake. Should we not be focusing on catching up to Akira? We can look into this after we find him.” Yusuke offered with worried urgency as he cast a craned look through the café windows.

            “Let him go.” Futaba curtly clipped, gaze still transfixed on her phone screen. The shock of her statement rang through the air and back to her own ears, prompting her to quickly attempt explaining her conclusion in audible detail.

            “Think- we know palaces can do some weird things to ordinary people due to distorted desires. Desires that can appear naturally or be set off by- o-other events.” She stammered but held it together, rushing to her point. “Meaning anyone can theoretically develop a palace given the right conditions.”

            “But this is Akira we’re talking about! He couldn’t-“ Ann broke the explanation with exasperation.

            “Have a palace?” Futaba interrupted right back, “The Nav hasn’t been wrong before. It’s not impossible for a good person to have a palace after all…” The gravity in the room increased with her last statement.

            “That wasn’t Akira.” Ryuji’s low voice sounded from his stooped position near the stairs, having crept down the flight near soundlessly without the others’ notice. He lifted his gaze to meet Futaba’s.

            “His eyes were different.” They said in unison, simultaneously confirming with each other.

            “But how could he have a palace if he has a persona? That is what you explained to me when we first met, right Mona-chan?” Haru piped up, ghosting a tentative hand through Morgana’s fur. A failed attempt at bringing her friend back from his thoughts calmly, instead causing him to jolt to his paws.

            “He was in civilian clothes!” The cat burst out, bristling at his own realization.

            “Wait, what??” Ann asked, trying to figure out the jump in subject with the rest of the group.

            Morgana began pacing along the booth’s tabletop, eyes glazed as he connected the dots inside his head aloud. “When I found him, Akira wasn’t in his phantom thieves outfit. No outfit, no perceived threat from the owner of the palace. Yet he was definitely being attacked by some kind of shadow and couldn’t defend himself!”

            “Could that mean he was unable to call his persona? Or perhaps it has to do with him having a palace in the first place?” Yusuke suggested.

            “We know it’s possible to have both a persona and a palace simultaneously, even if it’s temporary. I unlocked my persona and fought in my own palace towards the end after all.” Futaba reasoned, offering information rather than bragging.

            “And let’s not forget that the mental stress of it rendered you unconscious for several days after only one encounter under those conditions.” Makoto reminded in a thoughtful tone, “Which could help explain Akira’s fainting spell a week ago and last night.”

            “Awakening a persona within one’s own palace, while ridiculous in it’s own right and extremely dangerous might I add, is still leagues away from having a persona and then developing a palace after the fact. The rule of thumb has always been if you have a persona, you can’t have a palace. One can’t exist while the other does.” Morgana was going to work a ring into the wood at this rate.

            “So that leaves us with-“ Ann started.

            “Akira losing his persona…” Haru finished, tone hushed.

            Makoto broke the cold few seconds of silence next. “Is that possible? To lose your persona? The concept brings up so much to consider; how that outcome could be brought about…” Morgana went rigid and stopped mid-pace. His chin moved, but no words would come out.

            “Mona-chan?” Haru prompted gently, bringing the others’ attention to the feline. He finally collected himself.

            “It makes sense. Going back to his parents’ house. Loss of interest and increased introversion. His habit of falling back to sign language as his main form of communication- a passive language. Reversion.” Morgana gazed at his paws as his tail sagged to sit limply along the table’s surface. “He lost his will to fight…”

            “So- so it’s that easy?? There has to be something else, something that triggered it to happen.” Ann persisted, struggling with the concept, suddenly feeling vulnerable herself.

            “I did this.” Morgana and Ryuji voiced in tandem, shocking both of them, but Morgana was the first to recover.

            “This was my fault. If I hadn’t spoken up and turned that camera back on to show you all what he was hiding, his palace may not have fully presented itself. Bringing him here may have been what fully solidified it. I practically asked his subconscious to after the way I suggested we all smother him.” The cat explained.

            “Morgana, if you hadn’t shown us what was happening, we may never have found out the true nature of the issue.” Yusuke insisted.

            “It wasn’t just your decision to keep some of us close to him after his fainting spell, we all were worried and we all ended up taking a part in coddling him.” Makoto responded with a guilty nod.

            “As a fellow introvert, I kind of noticed all his signs of reaching social critical mass but I just wanted to keep him under surveillance and didn’t want to leave him alone. We were all to blame.” Futaba said lowly, curling her knees under her chin.

            “Yeah, we all messed up and we don’t have all the answers yet but we at least know enough to take action.” Ann agreed, posture gaining an extra degree of height.

            The feline finally sat back down with his head low and tail curled over his paws, obviously not buying in, but complying at least which was good enough for now.

            “Ok ok, so to recap: The metaverse is still a thing, which means we still got scores to settle and it’s personal. Akira lost his persona? Maybe? But he does have a palace. We know the name of the palace’s host, which leaves us with its location and how Akira perceives it as before we can storm the gates.” Futaba summed up in a breath, “Any ideas?”

            “Is there a place Akira is especially attached to or perhaps even avoids?” Makoto asked, sweeping her gaze around the room until Morgana spoke in a low tone.

            “That’s just it, he avoids so many things now it’s hard to tell what could hold specific meaning to him at this point.” He explained.

            “Okaaay, what about details from his palace? You explained what happened earlier but not much else.” Ann urged, pulling herself towards the table and meeting the feline head on.

            “Yes, there must be something worth noting, can you explain what your surroundings looked like?” Yusuke already had his sketchbook and pencil poised for action.

            “I was dropped into a safe room that opened up to a huge domed chamber, almost like a courtyard, with arched doorways leading to other places too, but everything was made of stone. Even the glass roof was covered with dirt. There was a huge empty fountain in the center with a statue of Arsene in the center.” Morgana gave himself a quick head scratch, the sound of pencil feverishly gliding on paper tickling his ears.

            “Was there anything else?” The artist inquired, not bothering to look up from his sketch, everyone else somewhat enamored by the sudden demonstration.

            The cat shook his head, “I was only there for a short time. Between escaping the shadow and the damage already done to the place, the only thing I can say for sure is that it was underground. I should have paid more attention, it would have made this a lot easier…”

            “So a large subterranean structure. This gives us a strong lead though.” Makoto commented, sending a quick glance in Ryuji’s direction.

            “Could it be that easy…?” Ann asked as she swiftly got to her feet, the others following suit and already filing out the door.

            “One way to find out.” Makoto replied, locking up the café behind the group as they made their way to the closest subway entrance at a brisk pace, Yusuke barely looking up from his work to see where his feet were going.

            “We may as well start the keyword roulette on our way there, no sense in activating the Nav before we’re ready to enter the palace. Any suggestions?” She continued.

            “Okay, Akira Kurusu, Subway, Mementos?” Futaba offered.

            “No candidates found.” The Meta Nav responded.

            “Worth a shot, how about Prison?” Ann added.

            “No candidates found.”

            “Jail?” She shot back.

            “No candidates found.”

            “…Interrogation Room?”

            “No candidates found.”

            A collective sigh of relief left the group. At least that elephant wasn’t coming back into the room.

            “Judging by its size, maybe ‘Monument’?” Makoto suggested.

            “No candidates found.”

            “Perhaps a place to hide? ‘Bunker’?” Haru chimed in.

            “No candidates found.”

            “Thieves’ Den?” Ann said.

            “No candidates found.”

            “Cave??” Ryuji blurted out with frustration.

            “No candidates found.”

            Ann gave a scoffing sigh, “This is getting us nowhere and we’re already here. Any further and we might have to purchase tickets to not look creepy.” She grumbled. Ryuji turned to Morgana, who was carefully removing himself from Haru’s bag, seeing as they finally found a more secluded corner.

            “Was there ANYTHING else Morgana? Anything you can think of? Decorations, sounds, smells??” The boy stressed, scratching his head in frustration.

            “Like I already said, in the time I was there too much was happening. What I saw was too vague, I wasn’t even supposed to be there in the first place. My infos not going to get us any closer-reOWRR!” The feline yowled in surprise as he was suddenly hoisted by his scruff several feet into the air, a pair of smoldering umber coals staring him down.

            “Can you shut the FUCK UP with your self-pity bullshit for one second?!” Ryuji roared. “In case ya hadn’t noticed, you’re not the only one that screwed up here ok? You all stuck near Akira too much, sure, but I did a lot worse. I left him alone and avoided him because it was easier for me not knowin’ what his true feelings were after I asked him. I hurt him because it was EASIER TO RUN.” He shook the limp furball in his grasp for emphasis and the others could only look on in shock. “And now I gotta figure out how to make that better if it’s even possible anymore, but I can’t even try until we find the palace and steal the heart of AKIRA KURUSU!”

            “Candidate Found.”

            “Wait what? How does that work??” Futaba yelped, staring inches from her phone. The others were at her shoulders in an instant, snapping Ryuji’s attention from his stare down with a flustered Morgana still held in mid-air, tail tucked and ears pinned.

            “The Meta-Nav accepted Akira’s name as both the palace owner and location.” She reiterated.

            “So his palace is perceived inside his head? I guess we really shouldn’t be too surprised, Akira’s always seemed more intellectual rather than material oriented.” Makoto commented, wrapping her head around the new information.

            “Didn’t realize the metaverse was so meta.” Futaba quipped more to herself than to the others.

            “So coming to the subway was a waste of time.” Ann deadpanned, posture sagging. Ryuji gave the cat one last sharp look before setting Morgana down with more care than what would’ve been expected. Morgana wasn’t going to complain, conceding to glance apologetically towards him; a stiff and swift gesture, but it wasn’t lost on the punk.

            “Not necessarily. If his palace’s location is titled to him as an anchoring point, it’s possible different places in reality translate to their equivalents in the metaverse.” Morgana tentatively supplied, giving his shoulder a composing lick.

            “Are you serious? That could mean the place is huge!” Ryuji responded, seemingly satisfied the cat was finally contributing again.

            “In theory it could go on forever…” Haru murmured to herself.

            “Morgana, were there any other stylized details within the architecture of the stonework you mentioned seeing? Perhaps French or Roman motifs? I would like my piece to be as accurate as possible.” Yusuke mused, finally putting his pencil behind his ear for now, turning his sketchbook in his hand for better viewing angles.

            “Why would it matter?” Ann asked, half curious and half skeptical of the answer the artist would respond with.

            Yusuke held his (seemingly completely finished but really this is merely a preliminary) sketch of what Morgana had recounted to them. “French or Roman influences in architectural style would change the overall impression of the finished layout of their underground structures, most prevalently, their respective catacombs.”

            “Result found.”

            The silence that followed, being the fifth or sixed one of the day, was decidedly the lightest of them for the sheer fact that Yusuke was Yusuke.

Chapter Text

It took the group a moment to adjust to the shock that Yusuke had placed on them, and once Futaba had decided they were entering the Metaverse, there was little to stop her from pressing the button and sending them all into their leaders palace. They all came tumbling down into rubble; landing in odd positions and kid of scattered all over the place.

“Damn, I don’t remember the Metaverse making me this… dizzy.” Ryuji groaned, rubbing his head, before opening his eyes to survey his surroundings. “Geez… this place looks like a more broken down Mementos… I didn’t think that was possible. Is this seriously Akiras…” He trailed off, not able to bring himself to finish his sentence.

“Hey… we’re not in our phantom thieves outfits.” Haru pointed out, spinning around to look at everyone, after standing and dusting herself off. “…And Mona-chan… you’re still a cat. So we’re not perceived as a threat yet, but you… You’ve always changed forms in the Metaverse, haven’t you?”

Morgana responded with a huff, shaking his whole body, releasing a puff of dust into the air. “The last time I was here I didn’t change either. I think that form is gone for good. You all managed to keep me here because you remembered me, I think that I only really got to stay as I am.”

“Oh, Mona…” Ann cooed, reaching for the cat.

“I don’t want to talk about it!!” Morgana screeched, running up a small pile of rubble. “Listen up! This seems to be some sort of… outskirt? It seems there’s a tunnel over there that’ll take us down to the place that I described and Yusuke sketched earlier. I can sense whatever I saw down there before… So everyone needs to be on guard!”

“Alright.” Whispered Futaba, clenching a fist of determination. “I can sense a lot going on past that tunnel. It goes down quite a long way. Let’s go save him from himself.”

--

The group cautiously made their way for the tunnel that Morgana had mentioned, and Futaba scanned for danger ahead of time. Ryuji and his burning determination naturally taking the lead, although he was not as confident as their absent leader. They continued along the rocky path slowly, using their otherwise useless cellphones as flashlights.

“The path here seems to be evening out. It’s a little less treacherous.” Makoto mindlessly said, before stepping directly onto a pile of bone on the floor. Shrieking, she looked down and made eye contact with a rogue skull, and knocked into Futaba while stumbling back. Futaba fell into Haru, who braced herself for impact, which left herself and Futaba tumbling into Yusuke, who caught them, wide-eyed. He gently helped them to regain their footing, paying special attention to Futaba, which didn’t go unnoticed; but now was not the time for that.

Ryuji turned around, sighing and crossing his arms. “Come on you guys, quit fooling around! This is serious, we need to keep moving.”

Ann turned around after helping Makoto regain her footing and making sure the older girl was calm and able to continue.

“That’s not really helpful of you, you-“ Ann cut her words short, and paused for a moment, mouth totally agape. “D-do you guys see them?”

The group silently nodded in agreement, but didn’t verbally answer, standing in shock. Lining the hall of the corridor were statues; grotesque, bony versions of Akiras personas; almost all of them. The group cautiously clung to each other as the statues loomed over them with glowing red eyes. It took a moment for the group to regain their confidence, and the cautiously continued on, minding their steps. Futaba whispered names of them as they walked past as a way of keeping calm, and the others found their own ways of coping with the intimidating air of the raggedy hallway. Once it had been determined that the Persona statues were not a threat, they gave them less attention as they hurried by.

Eventually the tight hallway gave way to a large archway, and Ryuji stopped the group in the doorway to check for any danger. The center room wasn’t bright by any means, but it had brighter lit flames throughout which made the thieves squint as they surveyed the new area. Once eyes were adjusted, the group gawked at the huge Arsene statue that loomed in the middle, which looked as if it could start moving at any moment. It was currently pointing towards a smaller door on the opposite side of the huge space, but his head was facing the group, as if staring at them.

“I knew one was missing!” Futaba pointed at the large tribute to Arsene triumphantly. When Makoto gave her a questioning glance, Futaba shrugged in response. “It’s my job as navigator to know everyone’s strengths and weaknesses. How can I do that if I don’t have all of his Personas memorized?”

“That… seems a bit much, but we sure appreciate the effort.” Ann whispered to her, clearly as impressed with her as intimidated by the huge stone statue.

“Arsene is pointing towards the safe room.” Morgana said out loud to nobody in particular, trying to re-focus the group. He took a few steps ahead of Ryuji, who still stood defensively in front of the rest of the group.

“Alright, then let’s head over there first.” Ryuji said confidently, but slowly, earning a curious glance back from the cat ahead of him. Ryuji shrugged in reply. “It makes sense, to visit somewhere that is first of all safe, and second of all somewhere one of our teammates has been before. We can see if we can find some sort of clues about Akira, the palace, anything really.”

“That’s… actually a really solid plan, Skull.” Morgana said hesitantly, offering a rare comment towards the faux blonde. “I can tell you one hundred percent that the room over there is this palace’s safe room.”

“Yeah, well.” He mumbled, taking a step forward. “Sounds about what Joker would have us do in this situation. So…” He turned, wearing a serious expression. “If we’re all in favor of what I’ve suggested, lets head on over.” The group followed him without hesitation.

--

Morgana sat on a dusty table, absolutely bristling, as the rest of the group laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more.

“It was my Master! He put the stupid little… doors there! So I could move around easier to SAVE JOKERS ASS. It ISN’T FUNNY!” He absolutely howled his reasonings, arching his back and puffing out his tail which swung angrily from side to side.

Yusuke chuckled. “They are quite regal for cat doors. They suit you.”

“NO they don’t!” Morgana screeched, his tail a full pipe cleaner at this point.

“Oh, Mona-chan, lighten up! They’re adorable like you!” Haru giggled behind her hand, clearly enjoying teasing their feline companion.

“STOP.” Morgana growled in her direction. “They aren’t cute, and I’m not cute either!”

“Okay, yeah, but oh my god the little doors have your name etched into them!” Ann snorted, taking a step back, accidentally catching herself on a cloth that hung from the wall, pulling it straight down from where it hung.

“Oops! I… oh.”

The laughter and snarky comments from everybody quickly tapered off as they all stood face to face with a giant phantom thieves flag limply hanging against the back wall. Infact, it was the same flag that Akira had hung proudly over his couch in Leblanc’s attic.

Morganas coat smoothed down as he turned to look at what had caught everyones attention so suddenly.

“The Phantom Thieves logo… in his safe room?” Morgana questioned, stairing up at it, as if he had never seen the logo before. “Could this be…?”

He started looking around, and everyone followed his example.

“The stars on the ceiling.” Ryuji pointed out. “Those are from when Mishima took him to the planetarium.”

“…Hey… didn’t you give him the ramen bowl over there, Skull?” Futaba whispered to Ryuji, who solemnly nodded.

“And that poster… is from one of our day trips.” Ann weakly pointed to a beat up idol poster, falling off the wall, before letting her arm drop in defeat.

Morgana started violently pacing across the table, leaving small paw prints in the dust. “Oh man. We’ve really messed up you guys. We were his safe place. Leblanc… the attic was his safe place. The flag was covered up, knowing him and seeing this palace so far, that’s absolutely some form of symbolism. It seems that We aren’t really his safe place anymore…”

A few minutes of silence followed Morganas revelation, a heavy feeling of guilt weighing down on the whole group. Suddenly, the ground shook with the movement of a heavy door, earning a rouse from the group who had been long since staring at the Phantom Thieves flag hanging now uncovered on the wall. Ryuji was the first one to run to the door, pausing to look back.

            “We’re doing no good just standing around! We’re talking about Joker, our leader! We can’t just stand in here all day feeling sorry. Let’s move.”

The groups numbly followed Ryuji, and were surprised to find themselves changed into their usual Metaverse getups the moment they stepped off of the last step of the staircase that led to the safe room.

“What- what happened?” Haru quipped, looking over everyone. “What changed?”

“Why now?” Yusuke shared in the confusion, looking to Morgana specifically. “-and on that note, why haven’t you changed, Mona? You’re still… well, in cat form. I thought maybe you’d suddenly transform when the rest of us did.”

“Would you seriously lay off the cat thing-” Morgana froze, looking in the direction that the Arsene statue now pointed; the large door that now stood open below the mangled stone replica of Jokers mask.

The group shared concerned gasps as they blindly ran towards the figure, which at first glance looked like Akira, but who’s glowing golden eyes and twisted smirk gave him away. Limply by the imposters’ side, being held up roughly by a handful of hair, was the presumably real Akira. His eyes hung half lidded, and he blankly stared in the direction of the rest of the Phantom Theives.

The imposter chuckled as the group ran towards him, roughly lifting Akira by the hair, earning him a wince of discomfort. Ryuji stopped the thieves’ rapid advance by stopping and putting out his arms. Futaba whimpered behind him and grabbed onto Yusuke’s side, as the others held their breath. Ryuji, being new to the leadership role that he had naturally found himself filling now that Akira was absent, nervously shook as he tried to figure out what to do. He relaxed only slightly as Makoto layed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and nodded to him, forcefully pushing him forward, urging him to make a move.

“Who… are you?” Ryuji asked cautiously, taking a few steps forward, testing to see what he could get away with, and what information he could get out of the fake Akira.

“I think you know the answer to that.” The imposter replied, scoffing. “You just don’t want to admit it out loud, do you Skull?” He mocked, throwing in a condescending shrug, tugging the limp boys hair once more. Ryuji’s body stiffened and he gritted his teeth, and noticing that Ryuji was out of commission, Futaba stepped forward and spoke for him.

“You’re Akira’s shadow, right? So what’s your goal here?” Futaba asked angrily, words fueled by fire that were reflected in dangerous eyes.

“My goals here? Well, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.” He chuckled, throwing Akira to the ground, and placing a foot on his back, earning a gasp from the group. “-And come to think of it, maybe this place wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you!” He gestured to the whole group as he cackled as his own insult.

“Listen, you-“ Ryuji growled, jumping forward before his arms were caught by Makoto and Futaba.

“Don’t let… this thing provoke you!” Makoto yelled at him, roughly tugging on his shoulder. “You know better!” She reprimanded, a pang of guilt hitting Ryuji in the chest, feeling scolded, like a puppy.

“Do you really want to attack me?” A swift kick to Akiras back and a groan echoing off of the stone walls was enough to pacify Ryuji completely. “Besides, do you think he wants you to attack me? Would you be in those clothes if you weren’t perceived as a threat here?” The shadows grin only grew as the thieves processed what he was saying. “But I’ll tell you what. If you can get every single lock on this door to come off, maybe he’ll want you to do something about me.”

With that, he grabbed Akira roughly and retreated into the large room behind the giant doors that closed swiftly, 10 large locks materializing into place.

Silence for a moment, before a near silent “What the fuck?!” from Futaba echoed throughout the grand chamber.

“Oracle! Language!” Makoto sternly corrected, earning a scoff back from the red head.

“Is me saying fuck really the worst thing happening right now, Mom? …What the heck are we going to do?”

“Yeah, what the eff…” Ryuji started.

“Even Skull doesn’t drop F bombs!” Makoto screeched, flustered.

“Queen! Focus!” Haru barked at the frazzled girl, and when she had her attention, shared a worried glance before clearing her throat.

“Where should we head first?” Yusuke asked to nobody in particular.

As if on cue, The Arsene statue behind them rumbled, twisting eerily upwards, arm moving and pointing downwards, revealing a staircase.

Ryuji shrugged, somehow not shocked that Arsene seemed to be leading them on their journey. He had done pleanty of things for the group in the past, and was part of Akira, after all.

“That looks like a pretty good place to start.”

--

As the group descended down the staircase that spiraled down under Arsene, Ryuji leading the way, they were all silent. That is until the gloomy tunnel opened up, bright light spilling over their Phantom costumes.

Morgana gasped and jumped onto Ryujis shoulder, landing heavily and wobbling to catch his balance. Akira was used to suddenly having a cat on his shoulder; Ryuji, however, was not.

“This… is his parents house! I knew this had to be part of his palace! I… this has been brewing a long, long time… it wasn’t just… us.”

“Well, of course it wasn’t just us. You showed us that video stream, after all.” Yusuke gave Morgana a few reassuring pats and a nod. “Unfortunately, it seems like this palace was unavoidable, but we can do all we can to steal one final heart.”

“If we managed to literally kill a god, I’m sure we have a chance here saving someone we all care dearly for.” Haru joined in on the Morgana petting, scratching him under the chin.

“We’re stepping into completely unfamiliar territory here.” Makoto mumbled, pointer finger tapping on her chin as she talked. “Except for you, Mona. I think that gives us an advantage. We’re going to need you to pay attention and point out anything that looks off, different. Something that looks suspicious to you we may not think twice about. Joker never talks about his home life with us. We have no idea what to expect.”

Morgana puffed out his chest, confidence renewed for the time being.

Ryuji took a step forward, and Morgana jumped down to be at his side. The others turned their attention to him, as he nodded to Morgana who took the lead, heading for the front of the house.

--

The doors were open, and the group carefully walked in.

“Woo~ooah! It’s so fancy in here.” Futaba totally let down her guard, looking around. “I don’t sense any shadows or anything in here, either for the time being.”

The group sighed a collective sigh of relief as their trusted navigator reassured them that they were safe.

“His parents are incredibly strict about how the house looks. A maid comes in twice a week, and Akira was never allowed to have anybody come visit. He had a ridiculous amount of chores, too. Who makes their kid clean before the maid comes to visit?!” Morgana bristled at the memory of Akiras mother.

“This house doesn’t even look lived in.” Yusuke thought aloud, dragging a finger across the immaculate surface of a decorative side table.

“Not even his room does.” Morgana stated with the swish of his tail. “Did anybody notice how he left all of the decorations he had in the attic of Leblanc? His parents would have trashed them without a second thought.”

“How did he get them to allow you to stay, Mona?” Ann asked, looking around as much as the others were.

“Well, it wasn’t easy, that’s for sure. I just try my best to stay hidden, and I don’t venture outside of our room too often. If his mom found hair on the furniture, she’d most likely have an aneurysm.” Morgana started walking ahead of the group, beckoning for them to follow him. “So far, everything looks totally normal. Should we head for his room? It’s at the very back of the house. Smallest room, naturally.”

He padded through the house, which was dim and quiet; until they reached the kitchen. All of a sudden the room was brighter, and it was if ghosts moved around.

Everyone tensed, but Futaba whispered, “There still aren’t any shadows. This must be some sort of flashback that we’re supposed to watch?”

“Hmm, like that game you showed me.” Yusuke whispered back to her.

“You did pay attention to it, Inari!” Futaba gasped, before being shushed by Makoto.

Before them unfolded a scene between Akira and his parents.

“I can’t believe we had to pick you up from the station! How could you attack an innocent man?!” His father spat, too close to him for comfort.

Akira looked absolutely panicked, opening and closing his mouth periodically, not able to produce any words.

“You even had the audacity to pull this mute… bullshit with the police!”

Akira shook his head no vigorously, defensively waving his hands. As soon as he tried to sign to his dad, his hands were smacked down roughly.

“We’ve told you a thousand times! We’re not going to learn to sign for you when you’re perfectly capable of speaking to us like you should!”

Tears fell from the young boys face, and he looked so small compared to his looming parents. He never had a chance to explain his situation before being roughly shoved into the direction of his room, and the flashback faded leaving the dim room that they had originally walked into.

Shocked silence fell heavy over the group until Morgana sighed and slowly continued into the kitchen.

“That’s a pretty decent idea of what his parents are like… situations like that weren’t exactly uncommon when we lived here… Let’s go to his room, maybe it’ll have some sort of clues for us. That is the direction the Akira in the flashback went.” The cat had conviction in his voice, and started heading off without looking back to see if the others were following him.

“It really sounds like it sucked for both of you… I’m sorry that you had to endure all of what you did. ” Ryuji offered Morgana sympathetically once they got to what he presumed was Akiras room. Morgana grunted in response, readying himself for whatever was waiting on the other side of the plain wooden door. Ryuji sighed, knowing he didn’t really have words to fix what they had just seen, but he also couldn’t stop himself from talking.

“I’m glad you were able to hang in- what the fuck.”

Futaba, in the back of the group and not able to see, let it be known she still didn’t sense anything coming from the room, before elbowing Makoto in the side.

“See? Ryuji says fuck sometimes.” She mewled with a smirk plastered onto her face.

Makoto narrowed her eyes as she turned away without responding, and followed the rest of the teenagers into the dim bedroom. The sound of shuffling papers filled the room as they stumbled around, until Haru was able to flip the light switch.

“Well I think this counts as out of the ordinary…” Futaba whispered, wide eyed, as the group ruffled through papers.

They were all the same.

Scatted on top of the immaculate floor, bed and desk were emancipation papers to legally separate Akira from his parents; none of which had been filled out to completion. All of them were missing one thing- a signature.

“What… did you know he was trying to do this?” Ryuji asked the cat now perched on the bed, nosing through more papers.

“No… He never mentioned it to me.” Morgana sounded disappointed, and mumbled his reply.

“Why wouldn’t he just ask us for help?” Haru spat, crumbling a paper in her hands. “We would have done so without a second thought. Doesn’t he… trust us?”

Makoto sighed.

“My sister… could easily have helped him with all of this, even over the phone.” She looked around some more, before speaking again. “I don’t think it’s that he doesn’t trust us, but…” She trailed off, thinking to herself.

“I don’t think so either.” Yusuke chimed in, voice serious. “I think his secretiveness is just a product of his environment. I wasn’t exactly blind to the things Madarame did to be either, yet when you’re in that position it’s very hard to accept that you’ve done nothing wrong and find people you can rely on. I know at least that I had folded in on myself.”

“Besides.” Futaba continued, pressing her side supportively against Yusuke. “I don’t really know if I can describe in words what it’s like to have a palace… but I can say for certain that he’s not in a stable state of mind. Before you all saved me, I had visual and auditory hallucinations that I only realize weren’t real now, looking back. It’s probably why he’s been acting so paranoid and distant in the first place. He’s suffering. It’s nothing that we did.”

Silence again washed over the group, somehow becoming a common occurrence as they made their way through Akiras palace.

“Listen, I didn’t bring it up to make you guys uncomfortable-“

Futaba was interrupted by Makoto, who spoke with shyness in her voice that was not usually found there, and carefully chose her words.

“No it’s- I mean, we never really… talked about it? How you both were feeling, I mean. I can’t imagine what you went through, having a palace, or Fox, what you went through in Madarame’s palace. I guess this all just hits really close to home. I’ve never known the palace’s owner like this, aside from my sister. I felt much more prepared for that one though, so this is bound to be emotionally heavy.”

Futaba offered her a hug, which she accepted. Although to two teasingly fought often, they did honestly care.

“Hey look.” Ryuji’s voice startled the others, but they went to him immediately. “This one here on his desk is different. It’s signed.”

They all looked at it and at each other for a moment, before Ryuji spoke again. “I’m taking this back with us.”

He folded the paper neatly to fit in his pocket, and when he slipped it in, a small metallic clunk was heard somewhere above them.

“Was that… one of the locks?” Ann asked, looking alert.

“Perhaps it’d be wise to go check.” Haru agreed, before following Morgana and Ryuji, who had already dashed out from the bedroom.

--

As soon as the group ran up the stairs under Arsene and towards the door, the base of the statue twisted back into place, sealing off access to the passage that they had just come up from. The group was more focused on the fact that yes, a lock had come loose and fallen to the floor in front of the grand doors they kept shut.

“One did come off!” Cheered Ann, jumping triumphantly once into the air.

“Yes… but there are nine more, Panther.” Mentioned Haru, not as enthused that only one had come off.

Then behind them, they watched as the stone Arsene twisted towards doors that had replicas of the thieves masks above them.

“Oracle, what is in those rooms?” Makoto asked, turning to the fiery haired girl.

“They have long passageways beyond the doors; somehow I get the feeling that we’re only going to be able to go through the door that has our mask above it.”

Morgana hummed. “Personal trials?”

“Wha- seriously?” Ryuji asked, looking down at the cat. “How can you tell?”

“Don’t you see your tarot cards etched into the doors? They’re upside down. I’m sure that means a personal trial.”

“Our… Tarot cards? Like the cards that lady Akira is friends with reads? Ryuji asked, genuinely confused.

“Wait you don’t know about Akiras confidants?” Morgana asked, surprised.

“You’re not making any sense, Mona!” Futaba cried, stomping her foot. “What do tarot cards have to do with us?”

Morgana sighed. “Alright. Let’s go back up to the safe room. I clearly have some explaining to do on Jokers behalf.”

--

Once everyone was seated, Morgana sat at the head of the table, ready to explain things.

“Okay.” He started off, pausing to think about what he wanted to say. “So you all need to know that you represent a tarot card in Jokers life. That’s how being a Trickster goes. You have confidants to help you along your way. In a tarot deck, a card facing upright means one thing, and a card that is upside down means another. A lot of the time, a card that is upside down represents challenges. Which brings me back to why I figured the etchings on the door meant a challenge to each one of us.”

“I don’t understand how I represent a card… I also know nothing about Tarot. Isn’t that just a bunch of nonsense about predicting the future and stuff?” Ryuji asked, innocently.

“I’ll use you as an example to explain, then.” Morgana patiently replied. “Joker told me before who represented each arcana, and I know what they all meant already. Skull, you represent the Chariot. To Joker, you represent determination, victory, will power, important decisions, and overcoming difficult obstacles. However, an upside down Chariot card usually represents self-doubt, lack of direction and the scattering of emotions. All of you represent something else. Yusuke, the emperor. Haru, the empress. Futaba, the hermit. Ann, the lovers. Makoto, the high priestess. I represent the magician.”

Skull fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, not sure how to take what he had just heard. “O-oh. Okay…”

“How does he know what arcana we represent?” Futaba asked, clearly very interested in this new development, and also giving Ryuji a chance to recover.

“Well, you know his 3^rd eye?” Morgana asked back to the group.

“Yes… he used it in palaces to find hidden treasures and stuff.” Ann answered.

“Right. Well, He can also use it to well, see us. Say we’re in a crowd. Even now, he can use his third eye and find you incredibly easy. When he uses it in the real world, we glow blue.”

“For real?!” Ryuji exclaimed, not the only one who was totally shocked.

“He knew who’d become our ally, too. He knew that Makoto would become one of his confidants, for example. It’s true for everyone after me and Ryuji.”

Haru and Yusuke nodded along, the others still processing.

“So I think… That these rooms are going to be challenges for us specifically. Not… necessarily fighting. I think it goes deeper than that. I think this is Jokers way of working things out with us. If we weren’t preforming as our assigned arcanas anymore, we could have set him off balance. If that makes sense.”

“So basically, Joker depends on each of us for different things. If he was no longer able to ask us for what he needed, that’s when he began to shut down.” Yusuke nodded, and stood. “Then it looks like we have a duty to our leader to overcome the challenges he’s created for us.”

“Inari, that sounds so noble and totally cheesy.” Futaba chuckled dryly as she also stood up. “But I don’t disagree.”

“Nor do I.” Haru chimed in, also standing.

“Me either! Let’s do this!” Ann cheered, getting to her feet.

“I think we owe this to him. Let’s go divide and conquer.” Makoto cracked her knuckles as she rose to her feet.

“All right. It’s time we really have his back. I’ll take any challenge he can throw at me.” Ryuji stood and made a confident fist. “I’m not going to run from him, or anything standing in my way anymore.”

Morgana nodded along with his friends resolve, and jumped down from the table and headed to the doorway. “Let’s do this!”

And with that, the group ran down to the doors, each standing in front of the door that was there for them.

“Mona-chan?” Haru called, her door being last in line.

“Yeah, Noir?”

“What do we do about the arcana of Justice? Isn’t that… Crows mask?” Haru spoke quietly, nervously eyeing the door that she stood next to.

“I don’t know.” Morgana replied flatly. “We’ll just have to hope we can get it open afterwards, unfortunately…b-but for now, let’s focus!”

Morgana turned to his assigned door, placing a paw on the cold stone. “I am Mona! I represent the magician arcana, and I accept your test, Joker!”

A low rumble followed and the door opened, and the cat disappeared into the unknown room beyond it. The rest of the thieves nervously reached out to recite similar declarations.

Chapter Text

       Morgana stopped just within the threshold as the massive door closed behind him with a reverberating clunk, his feline eyes following the echoes down the passageway that lay before him. He took a breath and walked forward; ready to tackle whatever was in store, for better or worse.

       The progressing hallways were no less winding than those the group had already traversed, but thankfully these tunnels were devoid of remains. In fact, with each turn his paws were forced to take, the fewer scents that were present in the air altogether. The ever-present patterns the brick walls used to hold dispersed further into uniform masonry with each noticeably lower ceiling drop that the impeccably spaced torchlights glimpsed. The numbing loss of stimuli left Morgana to his thoughts, flitting to a new worry with every paw-step.

       Was playing by the shadow’s game really the best option? The “forced” decision to split up wasn’t even a conversation, the group simply took his hunch as fact and followed him into separate rooms of an uncharted palace that even Futaba couldn’t extract much data from.

       In every other palace, safety in numbers was always key, especially during the several close calls they’d had to send in backup and get an unconscious member off the front lines. That was a year ago, when his friends were in constant sync with their personas. Would they be ok, alone, and a year rusty in metaverse combat? They had barely entered the palace an hour ago and they already were being challenged by the reining shadow on high alert!

       He forced his thoughts to halt with his frantic pace, unsheathing his claws and sinking them into the dusty floor as far as they’d go a moment before resuming his march forward.

       No. They didn’t have a choice. They were inside the palace of Morgana’s first friend and he had to believe in the others’ ability to complete their trials. After all, sometimes the only way around an obstacle is through it, right? Funny. Morgana could almost imagine that last bit in Akira’s calm witty tone. The sort of comment he would pull out of left field when morale was at low tide.

        A few strides after that thought, an open doorway came into view from around the corner, bathing the hallway in clean reflective blue light. Morgana inhaled and bounded to the entrance, prepared for-

        Anything but this.

        Before him was an ultramarine carpet, perfectly tailored to the dome shaped layout of the room, with a familiar desk anchored in the center, the chair’s back facing him.

        Morgana’s eye twitched and tried his best not to raise his voice, “As lovely as it is to be summoned twice in less than a day’s time, WHY have I been removed from the palace at such a crucial point in my mission?”

        There was no response outside of the padded drumming of slender fingers on the arm of the office chair. The old man had quite the way with Morgana’s nerves.

        “As I’m sure you know Master, despite this room’s way with time distortion, there isn’t much to waste. Wasn’t I charged with Akira’s protection?? Either tell me what you called me here for, or I will find my way back on my own… and if that way is another ca-ugh-“ the cat’s face cringed at the words, “small sliding door again, I’ll have you know, I find that particular ‘tool’ you provided me with to be disrespectful and uncalled for in my present state of being!” Morgana huffed, lashing his tail as he drew closer to the desk front. 

        The drumming stopped.

        "Master huh?" A coy baritone droned, a note of dissonance running underneath its range. The air in the room began to take on the smell of stale tapestries and earth, dust lining the desk’s surface as the chair turned with one smooth rotation. “Can't say I've ever been called that before, housemaids aside, but I could get used to it." Akira’s shadow mused, swinging his boots atop the desk with a wisp of dust and a grin that said he had gotten to the canary first.

        “Welcome,” The shadow stated with arms open wide, “To the Velvet Room.”

        Morgana was so caught off guard he almost arched his back and hissed but stopped the instinctive urge at the last second. Instead, he shifted himself a pace backward with a sweep of his tail to hide his flinch. Giving another glance around, it soon became obvious this room was a doppelgänger: the light held a haze thanks to the dust lingering in the air, the carpet beneath them was stained from disuse and frayed at the edges, and the surrounding cells were dotted with rust, a single box laying in the shadow of each confinement. Obvious now, but when he first walked in…

        “So what do I owe the pleasure for such personal treatment?” Morgana recovered smoothly.

        “Oh trust me you're not the only one, and considering they each found their reserved seats with little delay I take it you caught on to why you're here.” Akira’s shadow replied in a wry tone, adjusting his gloves as he spoke.

        “If you mean the trials, then yes.” Morgana quipped confidently.

        “And?” The shadow quipped right back, sending a glance his way.

        Morgana’s unbothered façade stuttered at that. “…What do you mean and?”

        The shadow heaved a long-suffering sigh.

        “Come on Mona,” Akira’s shadow enunciated the cat’s code name with a lazy eye roll, “you know what I mean. Where's that fine print of yours? You always have ulterior motives; a second reason for everything.”

        The shadow lifted himself almost in his seat and began reading off some scattered papers on the desk. “'I'm going to train you in the ways of being a phantom thief (and hopefully get some extra muscle to get me out of this castle)' or 'we should go to mementos to get stronger (and possibly gain back my memories).' Or even 'let's go back to visit everyone for summer break (and maybe figure out what’s wrong with you).”

        The seated figure raised his eyes to the cat in question with a quiet sort of anger, all mirth leaving the shadow’s face as he hoisted himself from the chair and to a standing position atop the desk in one swift motion, never losing eye contact. Morgana’s tail twitched nervously, ears swiveling lower as he took an unconscious step back with a wince at each example, blindsided by the sudden case being presented against him. Was the shadow’s trial that literal?

        Slowly walking toe to heel along the front edge of the desk with hands clasped behind him, Akira’s shadow continued in a musing tone. “Now anyone in their 'right mind' would look at this string of behavior and ask 'what the fuck.' Which by the way, and not to get off topic, but what exactly was your second reason for ragging on Ryuji so much? I mean I have my theories but I could never quite decide which one to believe in, but I digress. Seeing as you fit under specific… sub-criteria, I believe further consideration should be in order. So." The shadow stops his facing with a resounding clog from his boot as he stands in front of his target, “I’ll ask outside the unspoken suggestion: why are you here?” He finished flatly.

        Morgana’s mind reeled. He sank his claws into the carpet below him as he attempted to regroup his wit in time to salvage a worthy comeback in this talk-turned-interrogation.

        “…You’re doing it again.” Akira’s shadow muttered under his breath, fully aware of the walls carrying his comment for the cat to hear.

        “Doing what?” Morgana demanded with a bristle.

        "That thing you do- the grounding technique you do when you can't find a way out of something." The shadow explained dryly. "It’s something I picked up on a few shadow ambushes into Kamoshida's palace. You flex your claws to ground yourself against your flight response. Which means you must want to run right about now." he finished.

        Morgana stepped back, this time in indignation, “I’m NOT running! I’d never leave my team mate to fight this alone!”

        Akira’s shadow snorted. "Like you left us without a word after a bad stint with Ryuji and started training Haru out of spite?" The boy quipped almost boredly.

        "That was different and you know it!!" Morgana shouted, "It was a fight that got out of hand and I made a mistake. It was taken care of and we got past it. This is different! My friend is hurt and it's my job to protect him!"

        The shadow snaps his fingers as his eyes go wide.

        "Ah there it is: I'm going to help Akira because he's my friend (and because my master told me to)" The boy said with satisfaction, as though he'd just laid out the last piece to a puzzle.

        "You’re- you're wrong! That's not what I-" Morgana stammered, stepping back yet again.

        "Then what. Are. You. Here. For?" The Shadow ground out coolly.

        "I am here to help Akira, the REAL you!" The cat yowled out in frustration. 

        The shadow of his friend twitched at the last phrase, going rigid. The room darkened and the ultramarine walls bled into red.

        "But how can you help me if you can't even help yourself?"

        With an echoing snap, a metal grate slammed shut in front of Morgana's nose, making him jump a foot and slam his back into hard metal. He whirled around the room that suddenly felt far too small, finding cold steel in every direction he faced. Panic began to flood his system with adrenaline while dread held down his paws.

        A metal cage. 

        He had backed himself into a trap.

Chapter Text

Ryuji hummed nervously to drown out the steady drumming of his pulse in his ears as he stepped through the now open door.

“The chariot, huh…” He mumbled to himself as he proceeded down the hallway that stretched into darkness before him. He gripped his weapon tightly; The Dragon God Pole that Akira had bought him last year. It felt familiar and trusting in his hands.

He was worried that a shadow could pop out at any moment to attack him, which made him think about how long it had been since he had fought in there Metaverse. He briefly worried about being rusty, but quickly chased that thought out of his head.

“I wonder if I really mean all those things to him?” The though make him happy and somehow more nervous at the same time. He decided to push back thoughts about being the Chariot and continued along his way.

He felt like he had been walking and mumbling to himself forever when suddenly, a familiar breeze tickled the back of his neck. He shut his eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply, allowing himself to be lured into some sense of security. His shoulders dropped and his grip on his weapon loosened. When he opened his eyes, the familiar track he had spent so much time running on stretched before him.

“Why… am I here?” He whispered to himself, inspecting the area closely. It really seemed like the real thing, but being he was still sporting his Metaverse outfit, being transported back into the real world was confirmed to be impossible. He firmed his resolve and nodded to himself as he sat down and leaned against the trunk of a tree that he had sat under hundreds of times before.

“What kinda trial is this, anyway? I was expectin’ powerful shadows or something. This is just… creepy.” He said out loud to nobody, fingers nervously dancing over his bad leg, digging into the muscle, a habit that had formed from him rubbing the soreness away after all the running he did in Palaces. It didn’t bother him too often; really only popping up after intense exercise, and especially in rainy weather.

As if on cue, thunder rumbled as clouds rolled in, covering the oddly cheery sky. The leaves on the tree he sat under rustled and turned over, then settled eerily, leaving the air heavy and still. Ryuji was in tune with his surroundings to know that something was off, and he stood, gripping his weapon in anticipation. That’s when words were spoken suddenly from the other side of the tree.

“Staying still and waiting seems so… unlike you, Wuji.” A criticizing, but not unkind voice floated heavily in the air. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable… running?”

Ryuji tensed and gripped his weapon tighter, ready to strike. He quickly spun around and circled the tree, but nobody was there. He looked around, but didn’t see anyone nearby… He gritted his teeth, and decided to move on.

Suddenly, as he was walking around the track, the scenery changed. The grass beneath his feet suddenly became wood, and it startled him enough that he stopped in his tracks and frantically looked around. He was in… the attic of Leblanc?

“Alright, quit playin’ games. Whoever’s there, come out and face me.”

“I wasn’t particularly hiding from you.”

Akiras shadow whispered in a soft, low voice as he walked up from the landing of the steps. As he reached the top, he leaned against the railing and crossed his arms, wearing a stern look on his face. Was that… disappointment?

Ryuji let out a sigh, and dropped his weapon away from where he was standing. Even if something was to attack… it was worth trying to talk out, right? Besides, he didn’t know if he had it in him to attack… something that looked so much like Akira.

“So it’s gonna be that kinda trial, huh? Here I thought I was gonna get to fight some cool shadows.” He chuckled and walked around the bed, wearing fake confidence. “We coulda talked outside of your big bad palace, though.” He sat down, patting the open spot on top of crumpled blankets next to him.

“Not easy to do when someone runs from you and then avoids you for days on end.” He spat, trying desperately to come out on top again. He hadn’t thought this would turn into a power struggle. He did however, walk over to Ryuji and sit next to him on the bed.

Ryuji looked down at his feet for a moment, guilty, before looking back up and meeting the shadows piercing gaze, who looked taken aback by the direct eye contact.

“Look, Akira… Akiras shadow.”

There was an unintentional dramatic pause, as Ryuji came up with his words carefully before he spoke.

“I’m not good at this kind of thing, but… I realize I ran at the wrong time.”

Akiras shadow simply stared back at him, with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, wearing an otherwise blank expression, red eyes searing into Ryuji’s gaze.

“…Are we really going to have this heart to heart here?” Ryuji suddenly squeaked, looking nervous, clasping his hands on his lap. “Will… will the real Akira even be able to hear any of this?”

The shadow squinted at him, annoyed.

“I am apart of the real- as you refer to him- Akira. I’m not some separate, evil thing as you all seem to think I am.” The shadow scoffed his reply, annoyance apperant.

Ryuji sighed and rubbed the area under his mask between his eyebrows with his thumb and forefinger, fully knowing he wasn’t going to actually get any direct answers.

“Listen, okay? I… I had been running from Kamoshida, too. That was another situation that caused me to be anxious enough to run away. I’ve always done that. It’s always been something… I, well, hate about myself. I try to stay happy and upbeat, but sometimes…”

Ryuji trailed for a moment, gritting his teeth.

“That whole situation… was a bad situation though. You kissin’ me was a very, very good one, and… I fucked it up beyond belief.”

Akiras shadow stayed silent, letting the breeze from the open window behind them dance around in his hair.

“I talked to my Mom about it, I talked to Ann, Haru and Makoto… because I was, well, just afraid, I guess.”

“Afraid of what? You’re the one who brought us up in the first place.” The shadow set his chin in his hand, and stared ahead, not looking towards the blonde.

“Well, yeah… ‘m not sayin’ I was in the right. I’m saying that after I ran I assumed you’d hate me for it. I was just scared. Scared I’m not enough for you. Scared that I’m- well, that I’m me. And Akira, you, you are… well, perfect in my eyes, y’know? You’re our fearless leader. You’re incredible.”

The silence lingered over them, heavily once Ryuji had stuttered out his words. The shadow hadn’t expected things to go this way.

“I’m part of him.” The shadow mused, voice low and soft. “I may be the ugliest part, but I’m still him. He’s certainly not a perfect being.” He stood up, and walked towards the stairs again. “You do realize I’ll never truly leave right? These bad parts of him won’t just disappear once this is all over. If you want to love him, you’ll have to eventually learn to at the very least accept me.”

He paused for a moment, then turned around and tossed something to Ryuji, which seemed to just manifest into his hands. The blonde quickly recognized it as an umbrella that he had gifted to Akira after his had broken and they had to share one- resulting in them both getting soaked during a particularly strong rainstorm.

“Maybe keep that around. You help block out the rain, and remind him of the good things that will follow. You are his sunshine.”

Chapter Text

Futaba felt rather than fully heard the heavy doors behind her clamp shut. Outside the protection her headgear provided, the sound vibrated through her chest and off the too-tall walls of the small foyer she scanned immediately on instinct.

Through her goggles, nothing read out of the ordinary. No items, no shadows, no movement, and no signatures besides her own from this room going forward… if she knew where the door to “forward” was. Current logical conclusion: Safe.

…Maybe.

The hacker had reason to stay tense. During a normal metaverse mission, these findings correlated to two different outcomes depending on the data collected in the rooms leading to the change in pattern. Either the party shook off the threat and found a new vantage point, or it was the other way around.

Taking a tentative seat cross-legged on the floor, with her back toward her only presumed way out, Futaba stewed. Might as well switch her headgear out of “Far-seer” mode in favor of the infiltration mode for close quarters. At least the light version has a better refresh rate.

With the nonexistent data sitting idly in the corner of her headset display, there was nothing to do but sit in place.

Her eye lid twitched.

Sitting was never the problem for her. Heck, her main job was to sit at the beginning of each palace and monitor from a safe distance by herself. No, it was the inactivity. Not having anything to do or improve on. Alone.

She tried to ignore her knee bouncing off the stone tiling.

After what probably was only half a minute, she stood back up and ran the diagnostic command one last time as she circled the small room, taking extra care in panning over every detail of her surroundings for discrepancies. Being met with the same worrying lack of intel, the hunched red head swore under her breath towards the dusty floor.

“I may not know how this palace works but you can’t fool me.” Futaba grumbled to the air. “This is the save room before the big boss fight and it’s only quiet to make you THINK you’re safe but its BULLSHIT so just drop the cloaking act alreaDYYYAAA!”

Scrambling backward, the navigator hit her head on the entrance gate, knocking her goggles askew. Not seven feet away now leans a straight-faced Akira with his acid gaze trained on the frightened girl, seeming absolutely unaffected by her loud startle.

After a short staring match, Futaba pulled herself to her full half-pint height, “S-so what, you’re just gonna Cheshire Cat in here and not say anything? No intro dialogue?” She huffed shakily.

No answer. No data. Just staring.

Damn it, he knows she hates initiating small talk.

"Ok. No dialogue. That’s fine with me. Free roaming exploration games were always my preference anyway. Even if this isn't exactly free roaming…" She quips with a quick wave towards the door behind her.

He flicks his gaze to the door behind her for a moment before returning back to her. In a measured soft tone that seemed to boom off the walls, he responded, “That door is unlocked. You can still leave at any time.”

The new information made Futaba fidget-flinch, but to her merit, she composed herself quickly and took a measured step away from the exit.

Following her movements, Akira stepped aside to bring attention to the new set of doors behind him. She wanted to scoff at this but holds it as she fixates on his feet. He keeps a distance from her, matching step for step until they’ve almost traded doorways.

“Interesting mechanic choice to allow a player that much freedom.” She baited.

She tears her eyes from Akira and touches the new handle, finding the door almost too light upon opening. Just as she pulls herself forward to enter the threshold, the air pressure shifts behind her.

“Now where’s the fun in that.” Akira crooned.

It was over in a second.

Gloved hands ripped her goggles from her head while a solid boot connected at the small of her back with just enough force to send her headfirst into the black as the door closes behind her.

After stumbling to regain her balance, it’s the light that hits her first. Too bright with her goggles and without them it’s enough to make her eyes water. Hissing loudly, Futaba turns her gaze downward until they can adjust.

Tentatively looking up after a few painful moments, the hacker is floored literally.

She’s at school?

The bell chime echoed on fuzzy loud speakers located at twisting corners and the air was stale with a hint of commercial plastic coming off the cheap seating arrangements. The long hallways, the sterile fluorescent lighting, the rows of glass windows, the obnoxious laughter of snobby cliques clustering in front of classroom doorways judging how you breathed as you had to walk by them.

She was in hell.

Thankfully before she could have the bad dream panic set in, logic.exe came back online and reminded her she was still in her metasuit and not her itchy uniform. But wait…

Her hands reach up and confirm that indeed, her headset and all of its navigation software and infiltration playlists are now gone.

What the actual fuck, Akira.

The girl was suddenly overtaken by the kind of malice only younger siblings can muster when pranked by their elders. Her long hair was practically bristling.

Using her newfound anger to spur her on, the copperhead marched through the halls and past the groups of students. Rounding the corner, she was met with yet more classrooms and branching hallways. It was after the third left turn that it became apparent this was not her actual school. Or any actual school.

It was after passing by the seventh group of the same three faces that she realized her breathing was picking up.

She shook up the pattern by ducking through a familiar sliding door, her fingernails digging into the weathered lacquer at the sight just past it.

The exact same hallway lay before her, and yet it was… off.

Several arrant tiles fizzled with visual static at the corner of her eye and the receding walls gained a fuzziness that had nothing to do with her old prescription glasses she was forced to resort back to thanks to Akira’s bullshit.

With little hesitation, the veteran gamer let go of the breath she was holding and booked it through the same sliding door again.

The door opened and she walked through.

The windows had a frosted hue to them and the clicking of the students shoes were out of sync.

She walked through the door again.

The sky stopped “rendering.” Blocked blue tile was walled just past the windowpanes.

Again.

The ceiling was a sickly green screen hue.

Again.

The students were walking through each other now.

And Again?

The hallway resembled a game in a state even before it could be deemed a work in progress and the numerous mounting discrepancies nearly had the coding side of Futaba growing nauseous. Her head down, she passed a pair of black boots as she made a beeline for the door again in hopes of what she didn’t know anymore but change was progress at least, righ-

Wait.

Futaba straightened rigidly and turned towards the newest arrival to this graphic funhouse of horrors.

Akira cleared his throat with a static filled boom as though he was testing a hot mic. Futaba winced.

“Enjoying the level I built for you?” He asked in his disgustingly calm tone as he slowly walked toward her at a lazy pace.

Futaba could feel her temper rise but swallowed it and chose to play along, “Yeah about that, your beta stage needs some work. It seems a bit-“ she stopped short as Akira didn’t stop walking and phased straight through the closed “glitch” door next to her in a mass of pixels.

She inhaled sharply and held it for three seconds before opening the door after him.

She found the shadow just through the umpteenth iteration of the same hallway that now sported floating window glass where he was pretending to look out at the sunny day that had rendered upside down this time. After standing in silence for a moment she shrugged with a huff and joined him.

“Soooo where’d you put my Navgear.” She asked in a flat tone. It was less a question and more a weary threat.

“Don’t worry about it.” Akira’s shadow drawled.

Futaba tried very hard to control the twitch in her eye and instead chose to turn away slightly.

“Okay. So you made an Escher classroom glitch vault just to what? Talk?” She finished and turned back toward him.

Akira never turned his golden gaze from the inverted horizon as his folded hands drooped through the sill, “That’s all any problem needs, right? Constant contact?”

The girl arched an eyebrow, “Don’t you mean communication?”

Akira hummed, keeping his gaze forward. He drummed his fingers, the sound being present but his fingers were still hidden by a should-be solid surface. Futaba tried very very hard not to think about it.

“Communication is typically a two way street, anything else is just coercion.” He mumbled, still with the damn drumming.

“Why would that-“ Futaba started.

“Matter?” The shadow finished for her and continued, “That depends: Where would the last week of constant contact fall? Was it the former or the latter?” He asked in a tone that was less a question and more a weary threat.

Again, Futaba winced as she looked away.

“We just wanted to keep an eye on you.” She answered quickly, the phrase obviously practiced.

“Like how you keep an eye on Yusuke?” Akira’s shadow adjusted his stance, leaning into his hands.

“What?” Futaba whirls around to face him.

“What?” The shadow shot back through his fingers, elbow phasing through the glass.

“Omg will you STOP-“

“Glitching?”

“-Clipping. The term for a game asset phasing through a plane that should be SOLID is CLIPPING.” She fumed, pushing away from the mimed windowsill and walking several paces down the hall. The shadow followed.

“There it is…” Akira quipped with the slightest beginning of a smirk.

“There’s what?!” Futaba spewed.

“Your A.I. is showing.” He stated flatly.

“My-? J-just stop clipping already, you know you’re doing it and it’s driving me nuts.” Futaba finished, taking a few more angry paces away before she tried to take a swing.

“Are you sure that’s what should be bothering you?” He muttered, straitening almost painfully, but Futaba didn’t see it.

Akira gestured with a wave of his hand to their surroundings. They have been walking during the recent half of the conversation and Futaba lost track of where-

She was in her room.

Standing in front of her closet.

Her hands were poised to open the sliding door she had walked through countless times already, muscle memory almost taking over, drawing her to escape inside-

She gasps and stumbles back, holding her hand close to her chest as though the handle burned her. It shuddered open with the sudden retreat.

The room is silent. The shadow’s presence is still at Futaba’s side, graphically whole and more still than the girl could acknowledge in this moment.

He waited for the girl’s breathing to even out somewhat before continuing.

“Constant contact is only another form of captivity, be it within the company of others, or your own thoughts.” The shadow’s voice dropped lower, “You, of all the others, should have known that.”

Futaba’s breath caught in her chest. It was as though she had just been stabbed with ice.

Hindsight had 20/20 and a prison shank.

“You… you were always making sure I had a way out. An open door.” Her voice shrank as she continued, “But when you needed a way out I thought I was helping and instead I…” Her throat closed up as she began curling in on herself. Her fingers balled up into fists as she turned towards the statue of a presence beside her.

Lifting her teary gaze upward she finally locked eyes with this person that wasn’t and was Akira all at the same time.

“I’m sorry, Nii-san.”

There was no magical transformation. No fantastical “level complete” title card. No running victory lap screen loop.

The silence simply dragged as the shadow held her gaze and finally turned away slowly, tiredly, as he made his way to her computer desk and shuffled some of the clutter aside and picked up what he was searching for with a ginger grip before turning back.

“It’s dangerous to go alone, so take this.” Akira’s shadow said in a solemn tone as he took Futaba’s hand and placed a well-worn mug into her now-open palm. The girl almost snorted at his botched game quote until she realized what she had in her hand.

It was the mug she had given him as a parting gift before he had to go back to that place she refused to call her brother’s home, with that cheesy “World’s best Brother” saying on the bottom because she wanted to be a tsundere about the whole scenario.

“Make sure to remind him from now on that his doors aren’t closed either.” He murmured before the room glitch-phased to black and she found herself staring at the entrance door, alone once more.

Futaba sniffled.

Chapter Text

Yusuke sucked in a breath and closed his eyes for a single moment before entering through the large, open doors in front of him. His lips pursed into a thin line while he walked forward cautiously into the darkness that enveloped him quickly. The door shut behind him loudly, causing him to stumble for a step or two, but he continued onward.

He continued to walk, for what seemed like eternity, before being blinded and blindsided by the dazzling sight before him. Brightly lit room, cool grey marble flooring and crisp white walls stretched out before him; Paintings hung as far as the eye can see, which stretched out towards the horizon line with no sign of stopping or changing a direction. Hmm. A museum. Seems like the obvious choice, if not completely cliche, but who was he to judge? He gingerly stepped down the grand staircase that led to the art exhibit, cautiously looking around. Never too alert in a palace, after all. Especially without Futaba to guide the group to victory…

Yusuke instantly recognized the first painting he came to, directly to the left of the base of the staircase, as the first version of “human desire” that he had shown to Akira. He stopped in front of it for a moment and huffed, realizing just how off he was on his quest for desire he had been then. It was ugly, and full of his own anger and confusion for the world, one where his Sensei had just confessed to years of abusing dozens of people. He smirked to himself. At a point, he hated this painting. Now it symbolized as point A on his path of growth. He could be satisfied from that, and it had been worth it to paint.

He continued onward down the hall, watching the progression of his own paintings, each one carrying it’s own set of memories and emotions attached with it. They continued on, before they slowly turned into more personal sketches. The scraps of paper, torn sketch pages, corners of napkins; they were all framed in more elaborate golden frames than the last. They all seemed to have a single theme in common, too.

Before the artist had a chance to contemplate why these specific ‘works’ were chosen for this exhibit, a question was imposed on him from somewhere down the long corridor.

“Thought provoking, is it not?”

Yusuke whipped around so quickly that his tail whipped around comically in front of him.

“Akira! Is that you, my friend?” Yusuke asked cautiously, hand hovering over the handle to his blade.

Akira didn’t answer, just stepped closer, heeled shoes clicking and echoing on the decadent flooring.

“I’ll take that as a no, then…” Yusuke mumbled to himself, laying his hand elegantly onto his weapon. “Can I ask you what you intend to do here, then?”

“Hmm.” The shadow hummed, raising an amused eyebrow, flicking his eyes towards Yusuke hand. “I have a simple question for you. That’s all, really.”

It was Fox’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “A simple question for me? That’s all?”

“You’ve been so busy chasing the desire of the human heart, but have you stopped to think about the desires of your own heart?” His smug smile falls and he gestures to the expanse of sketches with his head.

“I’m not sure I understand.” Yusuke stared back blankly at the shadow, still on high alert.

“There is literally no way you can’t… are you seriously so blinded by your infatuation with beauty in its true form that you’re blinded by what you personally find beautiful?”

Another question that made Fox metaphorically scratch his head. “I find true beauty to be… well, beautiful… I must say, the riddles you seem to be speaking in are frustrating…”

“Man, are you clueless…” Akira dramatically rolls his eyes, and the lights go out. Pitch black darkness, the kind that feels palpable and heavy, draped over the blue haired boys shoulders.

And then he hears it. Screaming, in the distance. He knows who’s voice that is, and he has to protect her. So he runs towards the sound, blindly, for what feels like hours. He isn’t even quite sure if the room is a single hallway anymore, because no matter which direction he ran, he didn’t find a single wall.

“Futaba! Where are you?!” Yusuke calls out desperately, getting more and more frustrated that he isn’t making any progress; and he is answered by another, closer scream. He can see light pooling onto the floor from around a corner that he swore wasn’t there a second ago. He charges at it, weapon drawn, but stops in his tracks when his eyes are forced to squint from the sudden light.

There she was, on her knees, glasses askew with tears running down her face with Akira behind her. He had a malicious grin painted on his face, and the tip of his dagger was pressing into the pale skin of her neck. “Inari…” she whispered pitifully, deadpan eyes looking up at Fox.

“AKIRA!” Yusuke boomed, pointing the blade in his direction. “This is beyond insanity! Release her at once!” His eyes were on fire behind his mask, his heart pounding in his ears. The hand that held his blade shook, a problem that he hadn’t encountered before while fighting in the Metaverse.

A snort escaped from the shadow, who was clearly amused as the Futaba in front of him dissolved into smoke, leaving behind yet another work of art. Small, yet intricate, an Art Nouveau style watercolor portrait of Futaba herself, complete with beautiful golden ink. Akira picked it up and offered it to the bristling Fox in front of him, ignoring the threat of his drawn blade.

Yusuke dropped the blade and snatched the painting from the shadows hand, so quickly he was lucky the paper didn’t tear. “How did you get this; how did you know about this? It… this was supposed to be a gift for Futabas birthday.” Yusuke said flatly, looking at the now crumpled paper. “I felt the elegance of the Art Nouveau style suited her…” He trailed off and he sighed in relief, clutching the fabric that covered his chest.

“Understanding what I was getting at earlier?” The shadow raised an eyebrow in question.

Yusuke folded up the picture and slipped it into a pocket and was silent for a moment while he gathered his thoughts. “I… I think I may understand myself a little better now, yes… but… why help me…?” Yusuke met the shadows gaze, finding it to be softer than he was expecting.

“I’m apart of him, you know.” He reached his hand out, holding it there for a moment before dropping a smooth, shiny worry stone into the blue gloved hand which outstretched to receive the gift. “You once gave your Akira this when he needed to make crucial sacrifices and decisions… be sure that when he uses it next, it’s not because of you.”

Yusuke looked at it fondly, rubbing a gloved thumb over the dip in the polished piece of lapis lazuli. “I promise you that he will not.” He nodded at the shadow, seeming to have gained resolve through the experience he had given him.

The shadow nodded, eyes glowing. “If you hurt her… just so we’re clear… I would need to end you. Just saying."

Chapter Text

Akira opened his eyes, looking out into the dusty room before him. After a moment, he adjusted himself against the jagged stone wall he was laying against… and ouch. His whole body ached, and his head felt entirely too heavy for his body.

“Ah, you’ve come to.” A voice in the distance cooed, and Akira blinked a few times to make out the shape of someone, with no luck. A feeling of dread sat in the pit of his stomach. Heeled boots made the way across the damp stone floor, and echoed in the large, mostly empty room. Click, click, click. Akira cursed that his other self got to be adorned in his Joker outfit, when he was stuck in now ripped and dirty sweatpants.

The slumped boy stared up at his captive, wishing his vision would focus. He flinched slightly at the dark chuckle that heavily floated in the air. “Hmm, haven’t lost that fiery look in your eyes, have you?” The pitch of his voice suddenly dropped, and it was in that moment Akira understood what the others had meant when they told him once he was ‘speaking like Joker’ in the real world. It sent a shiver directly down his spine. …He kind of appreciated the interesting perspective. “I could certainly take care of that, easily.”

The beaten boy struggled to quickly get to his feet, gripping the jagged wall, and the shadow outright laughed this time. “Oh, steady yourself. I’m not going to cause you any real damage, since after all-“

He was cut short. “Why would you severely hurt me? You ARE me, after all.” Akira croaked out, fierce gaze still on the shadow. “I’ve got you figured out. It’s like all the other palaces. You’re the worst part of me, the part I don’t accept… but that doesn’t make you less… me, does it?”

The shadow blinked in surprise, listening to his explanation, before bursting out in a completely shit-eating grin. “You’re quicker to catch on than I thought.” He paused for a moment and hummed before his clothes changed in the blink of an eye from Jokers long coat tails, to Akiras jeans and light jacket.

“Oh? No longer a threat, am I?” He cooed, raising an eyebrow.

“No.” Akira spat coldly. “There’s no need for me to be alarmed of myself, is there? I get your game. You’ve set it up so the Phantom Theives will win, after all.” His legs shook with the tremendous effort that was standing right now, and the shadow caught him before he fell.

“True.” He mused as he slowly helped Akira lower himself back onto the stone floor. “I certainly did rig this in your favor. Doesn’t mean it’ll be easy, though.” He squinted glowing red eyes at him before releasing Akira, who sighed as he lay his head back against the wall. “I also hope you know I have absolutely no control over the Reaper. He’s his own entity entirely.”

Akira hummed weakly. "The Reaper... is here? That wasn't just you...?"

The shadow sighed, and sat next to him, avoiding the direct question. “He’s the Reaper of Fools. He’ll destroy anyone in his way, and he seems to have a sweet tooth for the wild card. Always has, it seems."

Akira sighed to match his shadow, as he felt his grip on reality slipping, and his body and head leaned and eventually landed on his counterpart where he found fitful rest. The shadow remained in place as not to disturb him, suddenly feeling more connected to his true self.

Chapter Text

Ann cautiously entered her chamber, flinching with the sudden ‘clunk’ of the large stone door slamming behind her. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, and twiddled with her whip handle, picking at the leather.

It was pitch-black darkness she was walking through, and the only noise she could hear was the gentle tapping of her own timid footsteps. This continued on for a minute or two, which left her wondering if there was anything in this chamber at all. Her mind ran wild with possibilities of what her trial might consist of.
Suddenly a new noise registered; a laugh? A growl? And, while unsure what it was, Ann steadied herself, gripping her telescoping whip tightly, ready for a fight. She was anxious, not unlike all of her teammates before they had shared wary looks and disappeared into their designated doors; but with them now separated, she had nobody to lean on for comfort. She was one of the more long distance fighters of the group, and had gotten herself into trouble in the past when shadows had gotten in too close. 

She continued down the long, seemingly never-ending corridor before her, before being absolutely blinded by an assault of bright sunlight. She covered her eyes, and squinted, trying to make out her surroundings; wincing for a second as she found herself directly in front of the patch of grass where the group mourned for Ryuji after he sacrificed himself in Shido’s palace. Why here? She wracked her brain trying to think of why Akira’s trial for her would take place here, and her face twisted slightly as she pondered; passively twirling a blonde pigtail with gloved fingers. 

“What’s with that face? Thinking about how Ryuji selflessly sacrificed himself for us so we could escape from ome of the hardest palaces we all faced together? Put his well-being under those of his teammates and friends? Was willing to face death itself in order to assure our safety? Oh, no. Of course not. You’re too busy feeling angry, ready to punish him for his actions to save you and the others?” 

Akira's shadow spat words as he approached Ann, gritting his teeth.

“I’ve literally never been angrier about something in my life than watching you slap him after he came back to me, to us. Less angry at the man who had me labeled a delinquent and who’s heart we had to steal that very day.” 

Ann had wide eyes and took a step backward, shaking hand reaching for her whip once more, trying to keep distance between herself and the unknown entity in front of her. She searched for words to reply, but had none. She did feel a twinge of guilt for how she treated Ryuji that day, but didn’t voice it aloud.

“Since when are you at a loss for words, Ann?”

“I-I’m not-“

“Do you even know how much that day messed with him?”

“Well-“

The shadows eyes were smoldering with hot coals and flames, fueled by the passion this subject brought on.

“Sometimes he’d stay over with me in the attic.”

He paused, almost waiting, daring Ann to crack a joke about it. When she refrained, he moved on.

“He’d occasionally have nightmares. About the explosion. About your reaction. Ones that would wake him from a dead sleep, ones that would push him over the edge into a panic attack sometimes.”

The shadows hands were fists at his side.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Ann, I am not the one who desperately needs an apology. Do you know how much you mean to Ryuji?”

“I, uh… I mean, of course, we’re friends…”

“Ann, please. For fucks sake. Would you look at the bigger picture?”

The shadow slammed his hand into the wall, bits of stone and dust crumbling from a ceiling so high it was out of view. He stepped back into the shadows out of sight once more.

Suddenly, the scene was playing before her eyes. The explosion, the group gathering themselves and finding the treasure laying on the ground. All that work for a stupid pin; not even anything to help raise funds for their missions. Mourning the loss of their friend and teammate. When he showed up, anger taking the place of sorrow.
Ann flinched visibly and looked away, tears springing into her eyes when she heard the audible slap of her hand meeting Ryuji’s face.

The scene kept playing must to Ann’s dismay- the others backing up Ann verbally, and eventually deciding to head out to get food once they had left their savior nearly in tears.
Ann peeked up, and continued to watch, sniffling to herself.

The group had rounded a corner, loudly chatting about being mad at Ryuji and what they’d eat for dinner. Something about sautéed foie gras. Akira lagging being them, repeatedly glancing over his should at the straggler; Ryuji limping after him. Once the group was out of sight Akira turned and threw himself at Ryuji, hugging him tightly, pulling him into the hug with a hand on the back of his head.

Ryuji looked stunned, looking over Akira’s shoulder, almost looking at Ann if that would have been possible. Big, emotional tears started to roll down the runner’s face, and Akira squeezed him tighter. 

“Thank you so much, Ryuji. From me and from everyone… even if they didn’t show their thanks today. You’re our savior.”

Akiras voice was soft and rough at the same time; This thank you wasn’t something that sign language could convey.

Ryuji crumpled in his friends arms and Akira started to unravel as well, both of them holding onto each other as the slowly sunk towards the pavement.

“What would I have done with out you?”

Akira whispered to his cherished friend, squeezing his eyes shut.

The vision ended here, the pair of weeping teenagers fading out like smoke, the background going dim and dark, this time lit by softly glowing torches.

Ann wiped her face under her mask, and Akira stared at her, eyes less harsh then they had been earlier as he revealed himself from the shadows once more.

“You’re the closest thing Ryuji has to a sister. Like how I feel about Futaba.”

 The fire in the Shadow’s eyes was less intense, more caring. Embers of a dying fire.

“Your thoughts, opinions- they matter to him, Ann.”

“Y-yeah. I didn’t think twice about what I did that day…”

The shadow laughed and Ann furrowed her brows.

“You both have that trait in common. Sometimes, neither of you stop and think.”

“Hey-!”

“Listen. He- I- Akira, he wants you to make it up to Ryuji. I don’t know if you can truly fix the damage you did- but it would be noble of you to give it a try. I’m sure it would be well received.” 

He paused for a moment, seeking out eye contact.

“Oh, and… maybe quit the teasing when it comes to his love life- hm?”

Ann’s face flushed, almost matching the color of her metaverse outfit. 

“Yeah…”

“And, for the record.”

The shadows took confidant strides over to Ann, holding out a strip of paper to her.

“You mean a lot to Akira too.”

She looked down at the paper, a photo strip of Akira, herself and Ryuji from Destinyland, smiles goofing plastered on their faces. A tear dripped onto the glossy paper, and by the time she wiped her face again and looked up- she was face to face with the exit to the main chamber with nobody else in sight.