Chapter Text
Akira always had a fondness for cats. Tatsuya could remember the day Jun had bought him that backpack shaped like a black and white cat. Akira had not let it out of his sight for a solid two weeks. He had continued to use it until he grew too big to properly wear it any longer.
While Akira had still been young, while he had still been adjusting to his new life with new parents, he was quiet. Tatsuya hadn’t the opportunity to get to know the kid like Jun had. Their relationship hadn’t been bad, and Akira had warmed up to him soon enough. Any awkwardness that had settled between them was on Tatsuya’s part.
So Tatsuya had bought Akira a toy. Akira had ended up loving that stuffed calico cat. If Tatsuya remembered correctly, the doll was still in his room.
That doll had gone where ever Akira had went. Tatsuya remembered how tightly Akira had clung to it as they walked to the park together. Summer’s end was just around the corner and Jun had already returned to work. After a long discussion, and after a gratuitous amount of apologizing to that poor babysitter, they had decided Tatsuya would quit his part-time job at the repair shop and stay at home with Akira until he was ready for school. It had been Tatsuya’s suggestion.
And it had been a decent arrangement. The extra income was missed, but Tatsuya had been given the opportunity to figure out Akira’s boundaries. They both could learn to adjust to each other. Akira had started to smile more around him. Tatsuya had started to feel less like he was handling something delicate and walking on eggshells.
Akira had held his hand tight as he trotted beside Tatsuya. It was going to be the first time they had visited that particular playground. Tatsuya was still adjusting to the area and had heard about it from word of mouth.
It was a small park that had been more trees and open field than play equipment. There was a quaint charm to the bright colors against the nature. A small group of children had been playing by the slide. Their laughter rung out as Tatsuya looked over the area and spotted who he had assumed were the children’s parents on the benches further down the path.
Akira held his doll a little tighter to himself as he had watched the other children chase each other around the blue slide. They had seemed to be just a little older than he had been.
Tatsuya squeezed his hand to get his attention. Akira looked up with wide eyes.
“Do you want to play with them?” Tatsuya had asked gently. Akira looked away to the group of kids again. Half his face was buried in the back of the cat’s head.
Tatsuya smiled as he crouched down. He still held Akira’s hand in his own.
“You can ask them. I’ll be right here.” He had given that hand a gentle squeeze.
Akira’s hand had slipped from his as he took his first hesitant step away. He took one look back to Tatsuya, who nodded in encouragement. Akira needed to spend more time with kids his own age.
“It’ll be okay.”
Akira nodded before turning back to where the other children had been playing. His steps had seemed more confident. Tatsuya had felt his heart pound in his chest.
As he stood, he had watched Akira approach the group. The children had stopped and looked at him before one of the girls—who had seemed maybe two years older—smiled. It had been enough. They talked and suddenly the older girl had touched Akira’s shoulder before she darted off. A startled look had passed his face before he fumbled with his cat’s long arms and tied them around his neck. He started chasing after the other children as the doll dangled behind him.
They had all laughed and Tatsuya slipped his hands into his pockets as he watched. It had grown a little easier to breathe.
There had been no benches nearby and Tatsuya had not wanted to wander too far from where Akira had left him. He didn’t mind standing as he watched his kid run through the open field and around the playground equipment with such a bright laugh.
“Is that your son?”
The woman had startled him and Tatsuya looked to her, shoulders stiff. She had looked a older than he was. Her laugh lines were charming and the few strands of hair loose from her low ponytail looked intentional.
Tatsuya hadn’t been sure how to respond.
“Um… Yeah.” It had been close enough. Her smile widened.
“Must take after his mother,” she had joked. Tatsuya didn’t respond. She hadn’t noticed. “You must be new to the neighborhood. I don’t recognize you.” She seemed earnest enough, so Tatsuya tired to relax.
“We moved about half a year back. We just finished renovations a couple months ago.”
“Oh? Renovations? Are you in one of the houses on the outskirts, then?”
Tatsuya nodded.
“Ah, that explains it. You seem the quiet time as well,” she had said with a playful smile. Tatsuya could feel his face warm and quickly turned to look back out the field.
It had only taken a glance to realize he could no longer see the group of kids. He didn’t know where Akira had gone.
Tatsuya knew he had still been on the overprotective side, still trying to find a good balance on their boundaries. But his insides had run cold as he looked over the park and around the playground equipment and could see no sign of any of the children.
“Hm? Oh, did they run off again? Mayu-chan has that habit…” She hadn’t seemed too perturbed as she walked off back towards the benches.
Tatsuya hadn’t been sure how she could be so lax about it, but his heart started to race when children’s piercing laughter came from further off. Down by the tree line, just at the edge of the park, he had seen them. One child was laughing hysterically as he pointed up into a tree.
It sent the wrong vibes up his spine and Tatsuya stepped towards them. As he approached, the three kids saw him and when he was only a few meters away, they all had quickly scattered. They had a guilty look to them, but Tatsuya hadn’t thought about it. He had frantically looked around and he hadn’t seen Akira anywhere.
A tree branch had snapped and only then had it dawned on him.
He turned, another branched snapped and fell, and so did a small body. Tatsuya had stopped breathing as he watched Akira hit the ground. He had made one small gasp and then fell completely silent. He had been completely still.
Tatsuya dropped to his knees behind Akira’s prone body, and pushing back his bangs, he had seen how wide and panicked Akira’s eyes were. He was biting into his lower lip. Just before Tatsuya was about to pick him up, he noticed the angle Akira’s arm was laying. It had been faintly unnatural and Tatsuya had to swallow down the panic as he dug out his phone. His hand hadn’t left Akira’s hair until the paramedics had arrived.
Akira had always been a quiet child, but there had been something deeply unsettling about his silence through the whole trip to the hospital. It had scared him. And Tatsuya knew fear. God, Akira hadn’t even cried.
After Akira had been admitted and some questions from the doctor about what had happened, Tatsuya sat in the waiting room. There had been one other person sitting in the lobby with a somber look on his aging face. Tatsuya tried not to think about it.
He needed to call Jun. He sighed as he dug out his phone.
Jun had arrived sooner than Tatsuya thought he would. He was out of breath, and Tatsuya should not have been surprised.
“What happened?” There had been such a mix of anxious emotion both in his voice and across his face, Tatsuya hadn’t been sure which to focus on. Jun was concerned and rightfully upset. Tatsuya could still feel his hands shaking.
“He was just playing with some kids, and I…” Tatsuya had trailed off, and he couldn’t bring himself to meet Jun’s intense eyes. “I looked away for a few minutes. He fell out of a tree.”
Jun had stared at him before shaking his head as he looked away. His hand rubbed at his forehead and he took a deep breath. He had been rattled by all this just as much as Tatsuya.
“Have they told you anything?” Jun had asked. His tone was considerably softer.
“Not much, but from what they can tell, it isn’t too serious.”
“A broken arm isn’t serious.” Jun laughed humorlessly. Tatsuya hadn’t been sure what to do with himself and Jun noticed. He quieted. A hand came up and gently touched Tatsuya’s arm. Despite the tremor to it, Jun still managed to keep it grounding. Tatsuya reached across himself and held that hand against him in a tight grip.
Tatsuya still couldn’t bring himself to meet Jun’s eyes, but Jun hadn’t been demanding it. He couldn’t push past how terrible he felt for letting this happen. He should have noticed sooner. He shouldn’t have let himself get distracted. He had told Akira he was going to be okay and Akira believed him.
“No one is mad at you, Tatsuya,” Jun had said gently. Tatsuya hadn’t responded.
He still hadn’t understood why Akira had gotten up there in the first place. Akira wasn’t the kind of kid to fall for peer pressure; he had been very independent for his age.
And then Tatsuya had realized something. He quickly looked to Jun.
“His cat.”
Jun looked confused.
“What about his doll?”
“I need to go get his cat.”
It hadn’t answered the question, but Jun accepted it and let Tatsuya go.
It had taken longer than he would have liked, but making the back and forth trip on foot was long. It was almost dark by the time Tatsuya had made it back to the hospital. His phone had remained silent the whole trip, so he could only assume both Jun and Akira were still at the hospital.
Tatsuya was tired as he asked the receptionist which room Akira was in, and he had been told visiting hours would be over soon. He just headed down the hall until he found the room. The door was open and the first one he saw was Jun sitting by the bed. Jun noticed him in the doorway and offered a gentle smile as he waved him in.
Akira was in the bed and he had looked absolutely exhausted. He was barely keeping his eyes open as he spoke with Jun. Tatsuya noted the cast on his arm. Akira hadn’t seemed bothered by it as he looked his way. Those gray eyes lit up when Tatsuya stepped forward and held out the calico cat doll.
A tiny arm reached out and Akira pulled the doll close to himself. It had gotten dirty and there was a tear in one of its arms from getting caught and tangled in the branches of that tree. Akira looked back to Tatsuya as he took a seat on the other side of the bed. A tired, but sweet smile spread across his face.
“Thank you.”
Tatsuya had only been able to nod and he reached forward to ruffle Akira’s messy hair. With what little energy he had left, Akira tried to hold out his right arm but fumbled with the sling. Jun quickly stood and tried to keep Akira from moving the arm too much. The cast itself had been red, Tatsuya noted. Jun pressed a steady kiss to the top of Akira’s hair.
“We’ll be able to go home soon,” Jun said, taking his seat again. Both Tatsuya and Akira looked to him and Jun’s soft expression caught Tatsuya off guard. He looked tired and the concern ebbing its way into his gaze had been hard to ignore. But the relief was overwhelming. Akira was going to be fine, despite the scare.
And Tatsuya knew fear, years before Akira was even a thought in their lives. Despite facing the crushing reality that any and all actions would only lead to their ultimate failure. Tatsuya had thought nothing else could rattle him that badly.
The news station was on in the living room. It had become a constant feature the past month. Jun wasn’t able to watch as closely as he would like, unable to afford falling behind on his workload. Tatsuya took it upon himself to keep an eye on reports when Jun couldn’t.
Jun was sitting at the table in the family room. It hadn’t been cold enough to bring out the kotatsu yet. Tatsuya wasn’t sure Jun would have noticed the chill anyway. The news switched to the weather and a chipper young woman explained next week’s forecast. Tatsuya took a glance over Jun’s shoulder. He watched as Jun anxiously shuffled his deck of cards across the table top.
Tatsuya never got the hang of tarot readings, but Jun piled the cards back together and methodically placed three face down in front of him. Normally his spreads were more complex and he could take an entire evening on one session. But Tatsuya recalled Jun once mentioning that there was great potential in the simplicity of three. Something along those lines, anyway.
The news anchor returned and goes over a report on the state of some up and coming politician. Tatsuya heard a card flip. Looking back over Jun’s shoulder to the table, the card beared a painting of a collapsing tower on the face. Jun’s hand paused over it. Tatsuya couldn’t remember what the card meant, but a knot had settled in his stomach nonetheless.
His phone alarm chimed a reminder Tatsuya needed to double check the train times for tomorrow and make sure he had everything ready. He stood from the couch and Jun turned another card. Glancing down as he walked past, Tatsuya saw the image of a blindfolded woman holding both a sword and scales. The card’s image was upside down and he honestly couldn’t recall if that meant anything or not. Jun stared down at the cards with an intent and somber look.
Tatsuya headed upstairs and shuffled through his bag on the bed. They planned for him to leave in the morning if no word from Akira came by the end of the night. Tatsuya hated to acknowledge it, but his gut was telling him they wouldn’t hear anything. He wanted to believe in Akira. This turned into a terribly precarious situation. Everyone’s steps needed to be careful and well placed.
But they were still Akira’s parents. They were still going to worry. Tatsuya knew what it was like to be young and feel invincible. They had all been so sure they could win.
He zipped the bag closed rougher than he intended.
“Tatsuya,” Jun called from the family room. Tatsuya looked up towards the hallway. The edge of urgency in Jun’s voice settled all wrong and he leaves his duffle bag to head back down.
Then Jun yelled.
Tatsuya bolted down the hall and stumbled down the stairs. Jun was staring at two news anchors, his hand trembling over a card that has seven swords.
“What a surprise to find the person behind all this is just a minor.”
“But considering how quickly they announced his arrest, the police must surely be confident in the outcome of this case.”
The two anchors prattled on and Jun slowly stood from the table, cards forgotten. Tatsuya just stared at the television. The silence that fell between them was suffocating. They kept watching and Tatsuya felt sick.
“He’s just a high school student. How do you think he was contacting the others?”
“The police here can search any online communications. His accomplices may slip up eventually.”
Tatsuya tried to swallow down the nervous energy. Something isn’t right. As he listened to the two news anchors go on and on about details of previous targets and potential charges, Tatsuya couldn’t settle on the reason they would have to charge him. No one should know about the Metaverse.
“Where’s my phone?” Jun rushed past and bustled through the kitchen, shuffling through the papers and bags laying on the dining table. “Why didn’t Sakura-san say anything about this?” He practically shoved some books out of the way before he finally found his phone. Dissatisfaction crossed his face as he pressed the phone to his ear. His free hand was anxiously running through his own hair.
Tatsuya kept staring at the TV.
This wasn’t adding up.
Jun cursed next to him as he looked down at his phone. He recalled the number with shaky hands.
“We also received information that the young man was placed on probation for assault.”
“Because of his previous record, he had to leave his hometown. Perhaps his motives lie there.”
Jun’s hand moved to cover his mouth and his eyes screwed shut. He looked as though he was about to be sick. Even from there, Tatsuya could hear the phone ring uselessly. It was him.
“It’s really him,” Jun croaked out, muffled by his hand.
The precarious footing they had been carefully treading had crumbled to a sheer precipice. If they had Akira’s information, then they would question Sakura. And every one of those kids Akira had been affiliated with. They might come question Jun as Akira’s rightful guardian.
Tatsuya took a step away from the TV.
Akira was a smart kid. He shouldn’t think it due to his background, but Tatsuya knew Akira wouldn’t have let himself get caught so easily. Nor does he break habits. His month long silence was concerning, and with the spontaneous, unanswerable messages something just didn’t add up.
He dug through his pocket and anxiously flipped the lighter open and closed as he paced. Something wasn’t right.
Jun tried the number once again. He was anxiously biting at his own nails.
What was Akira doing?
“We have breaking news: the young man held in custody has committed suicide.”
A ringing phone clattered to the ground.
“The police have confirmed his death, although details have not been released.”
Tatsuya couldn’t hear anything else. He stood frozen and his ears rung a deafening buzz.
That couldn’t be right. He never wanted to feel this helpless ever again but he just stared as Jun silently stepped forward and crouched down in front of the television. Panicked confusion flashes across his eyes as Jun just stares at the news anchor.
“He wouldn’t do that,” Jun says behind both his hands. He hesitated, but he turned towards Tatsuya. The plea for reassurance and any sort of foundation was painfully apparent, but Tatsuya could barely breathe himself. Jun swallowed thickly and lowered his hands. “He wouldn’t do that,” he repeated. His voice was firmer, but his hands still trembled.
Tatsuya already knew it. Taking that out would still leave the others. Akira wouldn’t run like that; he wouldn’t abandon them. His insides still felt as though they would plummet and he couldn’t shake the cold buzz of his shot nerves, but Tatsuya turned and headed back up the stairs in a hurry to grab his bag. This won’t wait until morning.
When he came back down, duffle bag slung over his shoulder, Jun was on the floor where his phone had dropped. His hand pressed impatiently against his mouth and brows intently furrowed as he types something out. Tatsuya could see a large crack splitting the screen.
“Get your jacket,” Tatsuya said as he dropped the bag on the dining table to find his keys and riding jacket. Jun nodded firmly, still looking at his phone.
“Messages still aren’t going through. That damn error message…” he said as he stood. That was the tell that Tatsuya had been tossing back and forth in his mind ever since they first started getting them a few weeks ago.
Akira wasn’t ignoring their messages. He wasn’t blocking them. It was like the number and account no longer existed. It had to be deliberate. He was keeping his distance and Tatsuya was missing too many details.
What was Akira trying to pull? Tatsuya yanked his jacket off the back of one of the dining chairs and almost caught his chin in the zipper.
As Jun pulls his own dark jacket over his shoulders, his phone buzzed once in his hand. The cracked screen lit up with a new message notification and the world stood still. They both stared down at the name of the sender. It seemed to be blocked.
Jun unlocked his phone and opened the chat application just as a new message came in.
[New Message]:
[BLOCKED] > [Jun][BLOCKED]: I am Phantom Thief Alibaba.
[BLOCKED]: You are the father of Kurosu Akira: Kurosu Jun. Correct?
They both shared a look before Jun responded in the affirmative.
[BLOCKED]: Are you alone?
[Jun]: Someone is with me.
[BLOCKED]: Who?
Jun took a glance back to Tatsuya, who kept his gaze down at the chat. He rubbed a hand over his face anxiously before he nodded. They’ll bite.
[Jun]: Suou Tatsuya.
[BLOCKED]: Acceptable.
The chat became unresponsive and before either could question who that was or why it happened, an incoming call from an unknown, private number rattled the phone. Jun did not hesitate to answer it. He put it on speaker.
“Kurosu Jun. Suou Tatsuya. I am Alibaba.” The voice over the speaker was distorted beyond recognition. Tatsuya recognizes the tactic and he had to wonder which one of Akira’s friends it was. It had to be one of them. Jun’s eyes screwed shut.
“Please,” Jun started. His hand holding the phone trembled. “What’s going on? Just—” He stopped as his voice hitched. “Tell us what’s going on.”
“The news outlets and reports would have you believe our leader is dead. They’ll say he stole a guard’s gun and committed suicide. Do not believe these lies,” the voice stated firmly. Jun’s free hand came up to his mouth.
“Where is he?” Tatsuya asked as he reached out and cradled Jun’s phone and hand in his own. There was a pause on the line.
“He is safe where he belongs.”
His hand tightened around Jun’s as his brows furrowed. He shouldn’t be surprised by the cryptic message.
“You’re coming.” It was not phrased as a question. “Do not let anyone see you or know where you are. He will explain everything when he can. I cannot be the one to do so.”
They move together. Tatsuya found his keys in the bowl in the hallway to the door. Jun followed after slinging Tatsuya’s duffle bag over his back. He still has his phone held out in front of him.
“Be warned,” the voice continued, “When you return, live your lives as normally as possible. Do no do anything that might raise suspicion. As far as you know, your son is fine. You have not heard anything regarding him for some time.”
“Understood,” Jun responded as Tatsuya locked the door behind them.
“They may come. They may question you. Or they may inform you of your son’s death. Be cautious of whoever approaches you.” Tatsuya grabbed one of the helmets from the wall under the overhang and passed it off to Jun. He pushed his own on as Jun continued to stare down at the phone. “One last thing.” Alibaba’s voice, despite the distortion, seemed to soften. Tatsuya lifted the visor and stood by Jun. They were silent as they waited. “He could really use his parents right now.”
The line cut off and they were left alone in silence as the sun almost finished setting. Jun’s phone went black and it hung in the air as he kept staring down at it. Tatsuya gently took the helmet from his other hand and prompted him to lower the phone.
“Come on.” Tatsuya’s voice was muffled but soft as Jun let him place the helmet over his head. His fingers fumbled with the straps underneath Jun’s chin, but Jun was patient. Or pliant. Tatsuya flipped his visor down.
His hands reached up to the side of Jun’s head as he leaned forward, bumping the helmets together. Through the visors, he could see the way Jun looked up to him. Tatsuya’s breath hitched as well.
“We should get going,” Jun finally said.
“Yeah.” The sun set just as they left town.
It had to be around midnight when they finally arrived in Tokyo. Jun had to signal their turns and motion when they needed to go back as Tatsuya was still unfamiliar with the city and Jun could look at his phone’s GPS.
The side streets started to look familiar and Tatsuya realized they made it to Yongen. It took longer than either liked to find a place to leave the bike. Jun was hopping off, pulling his helmet off before Tatsuya turned the motorcycle off and hit the kickstand. The light from Jun’s phone lit up his face in the dark alley. In the dank lighting, the bags under his eyes were impossible to miss.
At that hour, the cafe surely was closed. It was the only place they knew to go, however. Alibaba’s earlier words were all they had. Tatsuya struggled to keep up with Jun as he headed down the street. There was Yumenoshima, which meant the alley they were looking for was right ahead.
Jun’s phone buzzed. They abruptly stopped.
[BLOCKED]: Head further down the street, past the stairs to the apartment complex. The Sakura residence is where you want to go.
Tatsuya had to wonder just what kind of people did Akira know? He didn’t linger on the thought long as Jun turned from the alley to head further down the street. There was an old movie theater that looked to have gotten new life, just next to some small offices. The alley the needed was just across.
It was a small house, with a small brick fence. The street lights from the road nearby illuminated the nameplate. It was Sakura’s.
Jun was already pressing the buzzer. Tatsuya took the opportunity to finally tug at the straps of his helmet and pull it off. As he adjusted his small pony tail, he took a subtle look around the area. No one was around and the stationary cars seemed vacant.
The door started to open and Jun impatiently pulled at the small gate. Sakura was at the door and he looked as though he had been expecting them. He sighed and motioned for them to come in. As they stepped inside, Tatsuya took the duffle bag from Jun’s back and placed it and their helmets on the ground in the entryway. Jun didn’t look away from Sakura. His eyes were harsh. Tatsuya wasn’t too pleased himself.
“He’s in Futaba’s room. Just down the hall here,” Sakura said as he rubs the back of his neck.
“Thank you,” Jun said. It was curt. Tatsuya followed after when Jun headed down that way.
“Listen, I—”
“Stop.” Jun pointedly turned to him, hand raised, and Tatsuya hadn’t seen his eyes that sharp in some time. “Do not speak to me right now. We’ll talk later.” He turned on his heels and headed down the hallway. Sakura bristled but bit down any retort. Tatsuya was a little sympathetic, but he wasn’t in the mood, either. He’ll apologize later when their nerves were no longer so shot.
“What’s up with him?” It was a young girl’s voice he caught as he followed Jun down the hallway. Tatsuya heard Sakura sigh.
“Go back to sleep, Futaba.”
Jun stopped in front of a door littered with caution tape and signs of kaomoji and warnings. It had to be Futaba’s room. Jun hesitated and his concern was practically tangible. Looking back at the door, Tatsuya recalled too clearly the words of that news anchor. They won’t be leaving him alone any time soon. He wasn’t sure how they’ll proceed from here, either. No matter how he looked at it, Akira was a fugitive. It would be impossible to go back to a normal life after this.
The news reports withheld names, but they knew. Someone would surely notice a missing body eventually. And someone was going to be watching for any missteps from anyone associated with him.
Tatsuya looked to Jun, and he knew Jun was already well aware of all this.
He didn’t know the best course of action. He’d been content with his job as a patrol officer. They needed to move forward. Tatsuya took Jun’s hand and opened the bedroom door.
The room was dark save for the everpresent lights from the computer across the room and the glow-in-the-dark star curtains. Tatsuya couldn’t ignore the stagnant smell of a room that needed to be aired out more often.
“Hey.”
They both turned to that raspy voice to their left. The light from the door was unflattering on Akira’s sunken face, yet he offered a smile up to them anyway. Tatsuya barely saw it. He just looked at that impressive bruise by his eye and his split lip. He was still in his school uniform as well—the turtle neck at least. Tatsuya wonders if it was for a lack of a proper change of clothing or Akira’s insistence.
That smile faltered when Jun approached and kneeled down on his knees by the bed.
Jun’s hands hovered as Akira pushed himself to sit up. Tatsuya caught how Jun was biting his lip and how his eyes shined before he pulled Akira into a tight hug. Akira visibly winced, but when Jun tired to pull away, Akira clung to him.
There was a soft gasp and Tatsuya didn’t know who’s it was. As he took a seat on the bed by Akira’s knees, Jun lost what little control he had over his nerves. He pulled back and held Akira’s face gently in his hands. Even in the low light, Tatsuya could see the tear stains on his face and how Akira was avoiding eye contact. Akira’s hands clung tight to Jun’s coat.
Tatsuya felt out of place. He reached out and placed a hand on one of Akira’s knees.
“Akira…” Jun’s fingers tenderly prodded at the dark mark over his cheek and Akira tried not to flinch away from it. He was still not looking at either of them, but one of his hands slipped from Jun’s jacket and reached out for Tatsuya’s hand. Tatsuya took it firmly as his stomach settled a little.
“I’m sorry,” Akira finally said. It felt lost in the stagnant air. Jun wiped at one of his eyes as he shook his head. He smoothed out Akira’s frizzy hair, brushing his bangs from his bare face.
Tatsuya felt heavy, seeing their son so ragged. The signs were there. They were all there and he was late putting them together.
“I wanted to tell you,” Akira started again. He looked up to Tatsuya. It felt burdened. “But you have to believe me when I say I couldn’t.”
He sounded so tired. It didn’t come close to how exhausted and worn Akira looked. He’d been through hell and back.
“But a month, Akira,” Jun retorted. It was a plea. Akira looked away from either of them and didn’t respond.
It was frustrating looking at Akira like this. Tatsuya held on to Akira’s hand a little tighter. He didn’t know what to say. Akira was shaken despite the tough front he was putting up. And Tatsuya hated it. He wanted to say something but his mouth was failing him.
Akira squeezed his hand as though he understood. It just made Tatsuya’s heart ache more.
“We couldn’t risk giving anything away.” Akira’s voice was low and rough. He let go of Jun’s coat to rub at his wrist under the long sleeve of his white shirt. Tatsuya fought the urge to reach out and pull at that sleeve. His eyes trailed over the marks and bruises littering his face and he knew those couldn’t be all. Akira finally looked up. “You’ve heard of that detective prince? Akechi Goro?”
“He’s been on the news,” Tatsuya responded. Jun moved his hand to rest it on Akira’s and Tatsuya’s. He gave them a reassuring squeeze.
“He got too close. We made a mistake, and he found out about us.” Tatsuya did not like how Akira’s eyes clouded over. Akira’s lips pursed as he took a breath. He was either calming down or trying to focus. It was hard to tell in the dim light. “He said he’d help us clear our name if we stopped our activities.”
“That’s an obvious set up,” Jun said.
“Yeah. But it wasn’t as though we were in a position to say no. Besides,” Akira looked up and glanced between his parents, “we caught him in his lie. He messed up and we figured out he knew about the Metaverse well before he managed to catch up to us. We had to play along and we couldn’t give anything away. He…”
Akira trailed off as he swayed where he sat. Jun’s hands reached out to cupped Akira’s face, but he waved him off. Akira rubbed at his eyes and the bridge of his nose as he turned towards the wall and the small shelves and storage. He muttered about where he left his phone before he found it. As the screen lit up, he winced but dug through some sound files.
The phone plopped down onto the bed unceremoniously just as a file began to play.
“‘—Then, I’ll guide the police into her Palace and have them catch the Phantom Thieves in the act. That would be the only way to arrest them, given their methods. I’ll deal with them after that.’” The voice was vaguely familiar from what interviews and news reports Tatsuya was able to catch on TV, but it was far from the pleasant voice he remembered.
Akira stared down at his phone. The pensive, somber look in his gray eyes weighed heavy on Tatsuya’s heart. Jun looked to feel the same before he looked back to Akira’s phone again. The voice continued.
“‘Let me see… we could say he stole a guard’s gun and committed suicide during his imprisonment… How about that? Public security questioning will occur on the first day… and with that room, my task will be simple.’”
The line paused and a deep anger settled in Tatsuya’s gut, white hot. With how cold and intently Jun stared down at the phone, Tatsuya understood why Akira kept quiet.
The room fell silent as Akira stopped the recording. Jun pushed himself up and sat on the bed besides Akira and reached out to pull him close. His fingers were in the mess of Akira’s hair as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Akira didn’t fight it in the least. An arm wrapped around Jun again. Tatsuya could see his knuckles turned white. Akira’s other hand reached back out for Tatsuya’s again. Tatsuya scooted closer and took it firmly.
“I didn’t have time to warn you. It all happened so fast,” Akira said against Jun’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Jun took a deep breath. His hands still trembled in Akira’s hair.
“I couldn’t risk Akechi having any sort of doubts about us. I had Futaba lock all out accounts so we could filter who contacted us. It… was mostly for me.” Akira sat up and looked at Jun. “…I’m not ignorant to what kind of situation I’m in. Or how this will affect you.” He looked to Tatsuya and squeezed his hand. “I couldn’t risk giving anything away. I couldn’t risk showing any ties to you. ...I don’t want to lose you two.”
He put so much thought into this. And it dawned on Tatsuya: Akira was right. Jun was quiet as he looked to their son, eyes going over the dark bruise under his eye and that swollen, split lip. He looked down and took Akira’s hand in his own. Jun pushed the sleeve up and Akira looked away. The thin wrist was raw with bruises. Jun gently wrapped his hand around the scarred skin. His eyes closed and his brow furrowed.
“I made a promise to you.”
“And this isn’t your fault. Akechi wanted me dead. So we let him kill me.”
Tatsuya stood at that. He paced the small room as he rubbed a hand over his face. That phrasing and the firm belief behind it made Tatsuya’s insides run cold.
“You really shouldn’t be here.”
They both looked to Akira. He was barely able to keep himself up anymore. With gentle coaxing, Jun pushed him to lie back down. Akira protested before a dazed look crossed his eyes and he fell back. Jun brushed back Akira’s hair from his face again. It had always been unruly.
“I think this is a little more important.”
“You’re right. And that’s exactly why you shouldn’t be here.” Akira reached up and held Jun’s hand. Tatsuya stepped back and stood behind Jun as they look down at Akira. There wasn’t just exhaustion set deep in those gray eyes. Even through the daze and clouded demeanor, there was still clarity in Akira’s gaze.
Jun wasn’t buying it.
“I almost lost you.”
“If you’re not at work tomorrow, what will you say? What will ‘they’ think if you’re absent the day after the announcement of the death of the leader of the Phantom Thieves? You don’t know anything, right?” He looked so sad as he said it.
Jun didn’t respond.
Tatsuya put a hand on Jun’s shoulder. Jun kept his eyes on Akira, who was still intently looking up at him, but Jun did reach up and placed his hand over Tatsuya’s. He could feel the tight coil of tension in it.
“You’re right,” Jun said.
“Weird news, huh?” There was half a smile on Akira’s face, but the way his voice wavered and his breath shuddered, he was hiding something. The way he bit into his lip, he must be hiding exactly how much pain he was in. Police brutality hadn’t been too big of an issue back in the country, but Tatsuya could imagine what they could get away with in the city. Especially with such a surreal and serious case as the Phantom Thieves. The knot settled deeper as he thought on what they had done to a minor.
“If you leave now, you should be able to make it back in time for work. No one will notice.”
In the fleeting light from the hallway, Tatsuya saw it. Akira’s eyes, despite the kind smile he offered, were shining and wet. He was so quiet.
The world felt so quiet. Tatsuya reached down and carefully ruffled Akira’s hair. It set Akira off kilter and his smile faltered. He bit his lip as he tried to keep his breathing even. One of his arms folded over his stomach, the other over his right thigh as he curled into himself.
“What did they do to you?” Tatsuya meant it as a rhetorical question, but Akira shook his head as he bit down hard enough to reopen his split lip.
“I don’t—” Akira couldn’t finish the thought, his face contorting. Jun bent over Akira, hands smoothing over his hair as he tried to help calm his son’s breathing. He turned to Tatsuya only a moment.
“Go get Sakura-san.” Tatsuya was already moving for the door. In the hallway, he could hear Akira’s whimpered pleas for them to stay.
Everyone in the kitchen was silent. Sakura leaned against the counter, cigarette loosely hanging from his lips. He had offered some, but Tatsuya politely declined. Jun had hesitated, but ultimately declined as well.
A laptop shut closed in the family room and a short young girl with dyed orange hair, who Tatsuya assumed was camping out there for the night, quickly trotted through the kitchen and towards the hallway. Sakura looked concerned as he quickly took the cigarette from his mouth.
“Leave him be, Futaba.”
She quickly turned the corner, pushing her large glasses up her nose. She kept her attention on the phone in her hands.
“He said I could bother him if Inari got too worked up.” She hadn’t even bothered looking up. Sakura sighed and slumped further into the counter. The cigarette returned.
Jun sat at the table, leaning his head heavily into his propped up hands. He looked vacant and distant. Tatsuya worried over that deep set look. Akira had fallen asleep fast after Sakura gave him that pain medication. Tatsuya noted the scrawl on the bottle and recognized Akira’s name on it. He wanted to wonder where it came from but Jun sat up, hands carefully folded in front of him, and Tatsuya discarded the thought for another time.
The air grew tense as Jun laid a heavy look towards Sakura. The man just raised his hand to his mouth as he took a long drag of the cigarette before taking it from his lips. He looked just as exhausted as any of them. Tatsuya didn’t know what he wanted to say to him, or how he felt. A call would have been nice. A warning. Anything.
“About what happened—”
“With all due respect, Sakura-san,” Jun interrupted. There was bite to his words and looked the other man down with a cold, pointed gaze. “I don’t wish to hear it.” Sakura bristled. Tatsuya sighs. This was a mess of a situation and Jun still hadn’t let go of his dislike of the man. He understood. He may hold some of Sakura’s words and actions against him, but Tatsuya wasn’t sure now was the time.
“It’s not like they told me what they had planned. I was as much in the dark about all of this as you were,” Sakura aggravatedly retorted. He was just as frustrated. “I still don’t fully understand what’s going on.”
They hadn’t even warned Sakura. It had to be a deliberate move and Tatsuya found some odd comfort in knowing they hadn’t been the only ones left out. It would have made sense to tell Sakura, to warn him. Yet Tatsuya supposed they needed to cover any trails as they could. Jun didn’t look to back down, but what leg did they have to stand on?
“How could you have not noticed at least?” There was a twinge of desperation in Jun’s voice. Built up frustration and shot, fried nerves that had no proper outlet. “He’s living with you!” Jun pushed himself up, chair skidding back as his hands slam on the table “You should have noticed something! ” Tatsuya quickly reached for Jun’s arm as he pushed off the table he was leaning against. Jun was going to take it too far.
“Jun—”
“You’re not the only one with a kid in way over their head!”
They both stared at Sakura and his outburst and it hit them both. Tatsuya glanced down the hall towards the bedroom where that girl had gone with her phone. The heat in Jun’s eyes dissipated. He carefully sat back down.
“Listen. They don’t tell me much, and they didn’t act any differently than they had before all this. Maybe they didn’t tell me because… I don’t know, they knew I’d tell you. It doesn’t matter now, though.” Sakura slumped back against the counter as his fingers tapped against the cigarette. “He’s safe now. And as far as I can tell, it all happened exactly how they wanted.”
Jun vacantly kept staring.
“I’m sorry,” he finally offered. “I’m not thinking clearly.”
Sakura sighed and Tatsuya looked back to Jun. He looked so small sitting at the table, hands folded in his lap. The overhead lights did absolutely nothing to hide that quiet, somber look. An anxious, cold knot of worry settled in Tatsuya stomach. He felt useless.
“I may have only known him for a few months, but the kid’s got a good head on his shoulders. And a good heart.” Sakura pressed the cigarette butt into an ashtray. He looked over the both of them. He looked so worn but he smiled. “He’s lucky to have you two.”
Jun looked down at his hands. His eyes closed tight as he tried to keep himself together. Tatsuya crouched down besides him and gently pulled his hands apart to hold onto one. Jun clutched it tight, it almost hurt.
“I’m scared. I don’t want to lose him,” Jun muttered in the dimly lit kitchen. Tatsuya hated how he didn’t have much to offer. Jun turned to him, and despite the quiet fear, somehow it seemed to be what he needed. Tatsuya swallowed down his nerves and returned the tight hold of his hand.
Silence fell over the kitchen. The house didn’t even creak or moan as it settled.
“I doubt it will, but if it ever comes down to it,” Sakura began, “I can vouch for you two. I’m sure he’s kept track of just how often you call. And god knows how much mail you’ve sent.” His voice was quiet, yet light as he tried to joke the melancholy away. Both Jun and Tatsuya look up to him.
“Thank you,” Tatsuya finally said. Jun wasn’t smiling as he looked up to the other man, but there was an honest look in his eyes. “For taking care of him.” Jun nodded in agreement at Tatsuya’s words.
“Ah,” Sakura waved him off, yet it didn’t feel dismissive. The man had an image to uphold. “It’s not as though he makes it easy.”
Jun finally smiled at that.
Tatsuya hated to be the one to break this. He didn’t want to leave, not after the news reports and knowing what will greet them when they get home.
“We should get going. You have work in the morning.” Akira made a good point as much as he didn’t want to acknowledge it. Jun needed to keep living a normal life and suddenly missing work risked raising flags.
Jun didn’t respond at first. When he looked up to him, Tatsuya already knew what he was thinking. He had reservations about the idea.
“Stay with him, Tatsuya.”
They shared a look and Tatsuya can see the determination in his eyes.
“Just a few days. Make sure he’s okay.” And Tatsuya heard the undertone of the plea. The idea of leaving Jun alone after all this is not ideal, but Jun squeezed his hand. Tatsuya relented.
“You’re more than welcome to stay here. No need to go looking for a hotel. Especially at this hour.”
Tatsuya looked up to Sakura and the earnest, gentle smile he was giving them. Tatsuya nodded.
“Thanks,” Tatsuya said softly. He looked back to Jun. There was a sad smile on his face and Tatsuya couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and rub his thumb over that soft cheek. Jun reached up and held that warm hand against him.
“I’ll be okay. No one will notice if you’re gone a few days.” And he was right. Tatsuya had turned into a homebody.
It took a few phone calls, but they found a taxi service that would take Jun all the way back to town. It would be expense, but there was little choice.
Sakura set up the guest room for him as Jun and Tatsuya stood in the entryway, waiting for Jun’s ride. They’re quiet as Tatsuya looked down at Jun. The cracked phone buzzed in Jun’s pocket.
“I’ll make up for it,” Tatsuya said.
Jun looked to him puzzled before he sighed. He reached up and cupped Tatsuya’s face in his hands.
“No one blames you, Tatsuya. He didn’t want you to figure it all out.” He couldn’t keep eye contact. The guilt was too heavy. Tatsuya looked away, but he felt Jun’s fingers brush against his brow, moving his hair out of his face, and then leaned up. He pressed a steady kiss to Tatsuya’s lips and Tatsuya was weak. He fell into it.
“I trust you, and so does he,” Jun said against the kiss. He pulled back as he stepped towards the door. “Keep me posted.”
Tatsuya wasn’t sure what he could have done differently. He still remembered the train ride they had all taken to Akira’s first transfer the day he had left. He remembered the slight nervous way Akira had sat between them, and he remembered telling Akira he would be okay. Akira had believed him.
His throat felt tight and his hand clenched at his side. Jun noticed, he knew he would notice, but he didn’t comment.
“I will.”