Chapter Text
His stomach felt empty despite the meal they just shared. Jun’s fingers picked at the cushioned edges of the helmet in his hands. Tatsuya already fastened his on, and as he swung a leg over his motorcycle, Jun felt is stomach drop more. Gentle eyes look to him. The city around them had slowly been growing in vibrancy as day shifted to evening.
It was later than they had planned to head out. Saying goodbye to Akira once again had been hard. Jun recognized the excuse. The guilt tasted sour as he even considered making one.
Tatsuya sat up on his bike, still watching. Through the visor, Jun saw no expectations. The only thing in those warm, brown eyes was patience.
Jun shouldn’t keep quiet about this. He sighed in resignation.
“Tatsuya.” His fingers began to ache as he kept a tight grip on the helmet. Tatsuya flipped the visor up on his own. “Let’s get a hotel tonight.”
Tatsuya didn’t respond, weighing the option. He sighed, muffled by the faceguard of the helmet, but it hadn’t felt put upon or derogatory. He righted himself as he turned to look out towards the main street. Cars passed by and crowds of people wandered up ahead. Jun watched each and every one.
“Don’t you have work tomorrow?” Tatsuya asked. It felt more out of obligation than any true argument. Jun knew where this was going to go. He watched a black sedan pass by.
“I may have already spoken with the principal. She gave me permission to ‘take care of my family.’”
Tatsuya nodded, accepting the answer. A taxi passed by and a loud group of friends chattered away at the corner. Tatsuya’s shoulders finally fall. He reached up and unhooked the strap of his helmet, hands jerking with the motion. As he pulled it off, some of his hair pulled out of the small ponytail. It was cute, but Jun couldn’t even focus on it. Tatsuya’s gaze was too emploring. It was finally expectant and Jun knew what he was about to ask. Tatsuya’s helmet sat in his lap, his hands resting on top as he sorted through his words.
“Why don’t you want to go home?” He asked. It felt like he already knew the answer. The concern in his voice was evident.
It had been stressful the past week Tatsuya had been away, and Jun needed to breathe.
“We have no reason to hide it anymore,” Jun answered. Jun saw the anxious way Tatsuya’s fingers scraped against the black helmet as he waited for more. He was failing at keeping himself still. Just as he failed to hide the guilty remorse in those warm eyes.
“They haven’t harassed you, have they?” Worry marred his brow as Tatsuya asked. Somehow, that question alone felt like a weight off Jun’s shoulders.
“No, no,” Jun reassured, “No one has tried to make any sort of contact with me, and I haven’t heard anything from the school, either.” The way Tatsuya eyed him and how his fingers continue to dig into that helmet, he knew it wasn’t that simple. Jun quieted. “There’s still cars, though,” he admitted, “At least once a day, someone drives down our road. I know it isn’t the neighbors.”
They lived on the outskirts of a country town, at the end of road. No one used their street.
Tatsuya sat on the new information. His eyes fell closed as he turned away.
“I’m sorry.”
Jun’s heart ached when Tatsuya’s shoulders fell. His hands stilled.
“There’s nothing for you to apologize about.” Tatsuya didn’t respond. Jun hadn’t expected him to, knowing there’s an argument he was fighting down. “We knew this was a possibility when he agreed on this arrangement. It was unavoidable.”
Jun wished he could offer more. He knew Tatsuya was still unconvinced that his guilt was misplaced, but time was a better negotiator. Jun turned to look behind him, down the narrow alley. Just beyond the signs and people commuting was the cafe. They had walked Akira back home after their time together that day. Jun took a deep breath, steadying himself. This past summer he had told himself he would stop running, but whether he had been acknowledging it or not, he was still wearing a mask resembling contentment for Akira’s sake. It had become a burden.
“This won’t end well.”
Tatsuya hadn’t visibly responded. His eyes stayed locked on him, though. Jun met that heated gaze.
“You know this already, don’t you?” He asked. Tatsuya stayed quiet. “I can’t keep pretending everything is going to be okay as long as that man still has people willing to follow him. Considering the amount of influence he had and how deep his corruption ran, they will not simply let this stand. Will they?” It wasn’t even a question.
Tatsuya looked away.
“There’s always someone,” he admitted quietly, “They aren’t as subtle as they think they are, but… they’re always there.” Tatsuya looks down to the main street ahead.
The helmet Jun had been holding fell to his side as he rubbed at his temple.
“He has a few days.”
Jun looked back at Tatsuya’s words. There was a crease to his brow, like the words he was saying tasted foul. Jun wanted to smooth it out.
“They’re probably scrambling to save face right now. But they won’t do anything drastic immediately. It would raise too much suspicion.” His fingers still scraped against the helmet in his lap. As distasteful as the statement sounded, Jun still trusted Tatsuya’s opinion on the matter.
They both fell silent. Jun didn’t want to think on the helpless feeling that settled like thorns around his heart.
The city around them marched on and the vibrant chatter of the crowds echoes down the alley as street lights start to turn on. Evening was settling in. Jun felt out of place, like he was hearing the passing conversations on the other side of a window pane. There was no clear, right answer to this. They have no place to go to simply think, the space between locked away from them once again. Deep down, Jun knew they would had to face the consequences soon.
“I’m tired, Tatsuya.”
Jun rubbed at his eye. They felt sore and he felt Tatsuya watching him.
“I’m so tired. But…” Jun’s trailed off. His hand fell to his side. He couldn’t bring himself to look to Tatsuya. “What are we going to do?” It sounded so final. “What can we do?”
Tatsuya looked just as lost, eyes not vacant but distant and searching. He took a deep breath and dug through his back pocket to pull out his phone. A map was pulled up on the screen.
“There’s a few hotels not far from here,” Tatsuya said. Jun was relieved he got the hint. A back alley in a crowded city is no place to talk, and he hadn’t wanted to bother Sakura any more than they had. “Should we tell Akira we’re staying a bit longer now?”
Jun considered the option. He flipped the helmet in his hands so he could undo the straps.
“No, I’ll call him when we get there. He’ll insist we stay with him or Sakura-san again and I—” His voice cracked. Jun screwed his eyes shut, cleared his throat, and tried again. “I’d rather discuss our options alone.”
Tatsuya nodded. It would get pricey, especially so last minute, but it was preferable. Jun wanted to be close enough to watch, but not intrusive. He slipped the helmet on decisively and tugs the straps tight under his chin. Tatsuya reached out to double check the clasp before he slipped his own helmet back on and started the engine. As Jun mounts the bike just behind Tatsuya, another black sedan passed on the main street just ahead of them. Tatsuya flipped the visor down.
The call lasted longer than Jun expected. The concerned questions and generous offers were unsurprising, but Jun had wanted to listen to his son a little longer. When the call finally ended, Jun tapped the cracked screen of his phone. Akira had been assured everything was fine, that their plans to stay had only changed for a few days. Jun stared down at his phone.
The screen was dark. The light from the streets and buildings outside caught on the cracks that spread like webbing, as does the pad of his thumb. Jun ran it along a particularly long snag.
Tatsuya was sure they had a few days. Or he tried to convince himself they had a few days. Jun pressed his thumb a little harder against the crack. No matter how he tried to look at this, no matter how he tried to rationalize it out and reason with himself, Akira was a wanted criminal. Recovering from this would be near impossible, but Jun wanted to believe they could. The path was not clear, however. There were too many small things that settled completely wrong and too many concerns he could not shake.
No amount of apologizing would ever be enough. Akira had been dealt such a terrible hand. It was hard to know if this would have happened whether Jun intervened or not.
A sharp pain shot through his hand. His phone clattered to the floor and Jun looked down at his hand. Blood trailed down from the pad of his thumb. He barely felt it.
He did feel Tatsuya’s hand reach for his. It was warm. It was always warm and Jun wondered how he already knew.
Some gauze from a small medical kit Tatsuya must have pulled from the bathroom was pressed to Jun’s thumb to halt the bleeding. Jun looked up and watched Tatsuya’s face as he wiped down the rest of Jun’s hand. That crease between his brows was becoming ever present. Disinfectant stung, but Jun couldn’t stop focusing on that hard, stern look.
With the cut bandaged, Tatsuya stilled and stared down at Jun’s hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze and that stern look melted into something more subtle. It felt sad. Jun held on a little tighter as well. He hoped Tatsuya hadn’t thought Jun had done this on purpose.
“We’ll be there,” Tatsuya said, quiet, subdued. It was like a prayer. His hand closed over Jun’s, but it wasn’t confining. It was solid and immovable.
“We have to be,” Jun said.
There was more to this than just right and wrong. This was a responsibility and he would see it through.
“What do you want to do?” It was less a question, as Tatsuya sounded like he already knew the answer. Jun still paused and considered.
They weren’t entire sure what Akira and the others had planned. Although there was a level of transparency with their actions ever since the summer, the details were often glazed over. With Shido currently in limbo, claiming illness and no sign of a coming confession, Jun was hesitant to admit all they could do was wait. This wasn’t their fight, but that was no excuse to be compliant.
Jun breathed deep, and held his head high.
“We know what’s going to come of this and how they’ll respond once their time comes.” Jun’s eyes held Tatsuya’s, and Tatsuya saw the steeled determination burning just behind that cold gaze. “No matter what happens, however,” Jun continued, voice level, “I want to be here for him.” There was a threat just beneath that collected demeanor. Tatsuya met it full on, and caught the undertone.
Jun would not be above causing a scene.
“I want to be here.”
Tatsuya’s hard stare said he agreed.
They had picked up the pieces of a shattered life before. More than once. They were prepared to do it all over again.
It was heavy, though. Exhaustion was catching up to him all over again. Jun knew he was too worked up to think clearly and logically on the matter any longer. So he let the wall down and with an exhale, his shoulders fell as he leaned forward, burying his nose into Tatsuya’s collarbone. Jun’s hand ached, the small cut throbbing, but he felt Tatsuya’s thumb rub against his palm. Jun just wanted to take him to bed.
Akira would be okay tomorrow. Jun convinced himself it would be okay. Tomorrow he would have a clear head and he and Tatsuya would talk and prepare for whatever may come.
Tatsuya understood, or he felt the same. Either way, it would all wait until morning. He lead him to bed.
As they settle and lie together in the small hotel bed, Jun stared out the window overlooking the busy streets just outside. The city lights filtered in from behind the curtains, casting a cold glow on the white sheets and Tatsuya’s warm hair. As if on cue, Tatsuya pulled Jun closer, burying his face into the crook of Jun’s neck.
His fingers gently carded through Tatsuya’s hair and Jun couldn’t pull away from the window.
Maybe it had been the low, haunting lights of the city, or the way Tatsuya clung to him so firmly, but nostalgia settled deep in Jun’s stomach. It was like their first night back together back in Sumaru. Jun realized it had not been the setting, but the uncertainty looming over them both. A balancing act, and once again their world was on the line. His fingers hesitated as they played with Tatsuya’s hair. Jun turned just enough to press a decisive kiss to the top of Tatsuya’s head.
Jun’s finger trailed down the notebook paper as he looked over each line to a math problem. Akira watched from Jun’s side as the two sat together in the back booth in Leblanc. The scrawl was familiar enough Jun could still easily see where something had gone wrong.
“Right here.” His finger tapped against the page on the line in question. “Something is missing.” It was a simple mistake. Jun was positive it had been more out of oversight than a misunderstanding of the material. Akira leaned back over and looked over his work. He looked surprised and confused as he pulled the notebook back towards himself.
Jun sat back and watched. Akira easily found the error and scratched it out, redoing almost half the equation again. Jun’s fingers found his watch and twisted it around his thin wrist. It had been a long time since they’ve sat together to go over study material and homework.
It almost gave him whiplash. Akira had always been studious yet it amazed him how well he could focus. Jun didn’t know whether to be proud or worried. His fingers twisted around his wrist tighter.
“How’s this?” Akira slid the notebook back towards Jun. Jun caught his own delay. His hand left his wrist and he pulled the notebook closer to himself to look over the lines once again. Those gray eyes were on him. He could feel the quiet concern but Akira had remained silent. Jun noted how Akira’s scrawl in the notebook was much more legible than before.
The mistake was corrected and the rest of the equation was just as it should be.
“Well done.” He offered Akira a smile. Akira seemed to be searching for something, eyes flitting over Jun’s posture before he returned it. Whatever he had been trying to work out, he settled on it. “It was a simple oversight. Make sure to pay close attention during the exams.” Jun nudged the notebook back towards Akira. “Other than that, I believe you have a good grasp of the material. You’ll do just fine.”
Akira must have seen it. There wasn’t much those perceptive eyes miss. If he did, he kept it to himself.
“Were there any other subjects you wanted to cover with me before your friends show up?”
“Ah. Yeah, actually. If you don’t mind.”
Taking a month off from school surely set Akira back. It was conflicting circumstances. The world was out to get him, forcing him to hide. Yet there were pretenses that needed to be kept up. Akira was always a good student. Grades and scores suddenly plummeting would be odd.
Jun wasn’t sure if Akira’s insistence on studying like this was from the need to keep up that mask or a desperate cling for any sort of normalcy. Jun’s fingers tugged at the sleeve of the dark sweater he borrowed from Tatsuya. The sentiment wasn’t unfamiliar.
They went over Japanese as the news droned on behind them. Jun happened to catch the tail end of a missing persons report. He had missed the name completely. Sojiro chatted with Tatsuya at the counter periodically. It felt normal. It was almost relaxing.
The bell chimed overhead and boisterous chatter spilled in from the entrance of the cafe.
“Hey, man. No fair!” Ryuji protested as the group entered. Ann rolled her eyes beside him. “Ain’t your dad a teacher or somethin’?” Both Jun and Akira smiled at that.
“Yeah, but you didn’t miss an entire month of school,” Ann retorted, walking past to set her bag down at one of the open booths. Makoto behind them all already looked exasperated.
Jun leaned forward on the table, offering an all-too-knowing smiling.
“Would you like me to help you study, Sakamoto?” Jun said in that kind and overly friendly tone he reserved for his more unruly students. Although he teased, Ryuji didn’t seem the sort of student who would develop good studying habits, if any at all aside from the inevitable cram.
Ryuji started to sweat at the offer.
“U-Uh…”
“That’s very kind of you to offer,” Makoto butted in, to Ryuji’s visible relief, “But we couldn’t intrude on you or your time.” She was very polite. Jun’s smile softened to be more sincere. He hoped she could be less rigid around him.
“It’s no trouble. We’ve no other plans today.”
Skepticism, or maybe something more distrusting passed over Makoto’s face. Jun hardly blamed her. He hadn’t the opportunity to get to know these kids as well as others. Even Tatsuya has a better handle on them.
Jun was as much an oddity and enigma in the lives of these teenagers as they are to him.
With only a slight amount of coaxing and reassurance, the rest of the afternoon passed with the group huddled over scattered papers and textbooks. Off the bat, Jun could already tell who would do fine and who may need a little extra help. As Makoto went over history notes with Akira and Ann, Jun found his suspicions to be correct about Ryuji. He looked to be floundering. Jun didn’t want to encourage cramming, but he could at least offer a few tips and tricks to help him remember and recall the material. Ann overheard as well and took note, with relief.
It was a lively group, and it felt like it was supposed to. This was the reward. Despite the world creeping up on them and looming over their shoulders, helping students study and keeping them on track was a rewarding and uplifting experience.
Studying started to quiet down and the gossip rose, and as Jun looked over the group he happened to catch Makoto glancing his way. She quickly looked back down to her notebook.
The hesitancy should be expected. Now was as good a time as any.
“Akira,” Jun politely interjected as Akira started putting away his notebooks and texts. Despite addressing Akira, Jun caught the attention of the others. “This may not be the most opportune time, but once your exams are over, I have a request of you.”
Akira paused. A glare shone off his glasses.
“What is it?”
“I would like you to take us to the Metaverse one more time.”
Akira stared and the rest of the group’s chatter silenced.
Jun kept up his gentle smile despite Akira’s hesitancy. Tatsuya turned in his seat at the counter. Jun caught the warning look in his eyes, but they remembered what they discussed this morning and the agreement they came to. It was unorthodox.
“There’s something I need to know,” Jun gently stated. He knew how it sounded, though. Jun motions to Tatsuya, watchful eyes locked on the group, as a means to placiate. “More importantly, however, we’d both like to show you all something.”
It wouldn’t be enough to convince Akira, Jun knew. But there had yet to be an outright denial and that had been cue enough to continue.
“I’ve seen how you fight. I’ve seen the control you have, and it’s astonishing. But I think there’s still a thing or two a couple of veteran Persona-users could teach you.”
Akira looked away, though Jun couldn’t see his eyes behind the glare off his glasses. Despite the still blatant hesitancy, he was weighing the options, considering the possibilities. Jun would not push this like before, but he hoped Akira could still agree.
Jun’s concerns, the questions he needed answers to, could be sated here. But Jun had to see the evidence himself. He needed Akira to see the repercussions as well.
“Are you sure about this?” Akira asked. Jun sat tall. The convincing Akira needed was not reassurance.
“I’m sure. This is unconventional, but nothing about us or what we’ve been through is. I don’t mean to word this in a way that makes you worry.” Jun reached out and placed his hand on Akira’s shoulder. He squeezes it firmly and Akira met his eyes. Jun saw it then. The hesitancy Akira was fighting was not out of a fear of danger, but the threat that had already happened.
Jun recalled how that sweet briar was ripped to shreds from a gunshot right beside a face too much like his own.
“I’ve caused you undo worry.” Jun’s hand moved from his shoulder to cup Akira’s face, thumb gently rubbing the curve of his cheek. “Let me do this as a way of making up for it. To all of you. It’s well overdue.”
“That’s… quite a generous offer,” Makoto spoke up. Out of the entire group, she had the most skeptical look in her eyes. It wasn’t cruel, but the judgemental weight of it felt justified. “But… are you sure it would be safe? I mean, the last time you were there—” She cut herself off. Her hand came up to her mouth as she looked away.
It should have been expected. Hoping they all would move on from the trouble Jun caused the past summer was too much to hold out for. If he recalled correctly, Makoto was the one who received the short end of the stick that day, and Jun wasn’t even sure if she received a proper explanation, or apology. Makoto righted herself, rethinking her words or her point.
“I shouldn’t have brought that up. But considering past experiences, would you honestly be able to handle it?”
Jun liked her direct honesty. He thought carefully of how to respond.
“That is something, I believe, you have every right to be concerned over. I acted rashly, out of fear, and so handled it poorly.” Jun met her gaze, and he could see why Akira trusted her judgment and advice. “However, I can assure you I will not lose myself to my own grief and regrets again. If anything, it has made me a stronger person.”
Makoto bored into him, weighed each and every word and their validity. She turned to Akira, who seemed to be tossing the possibility around himself. Finally, they both settled on their answer and Makoto nodded.
“I see. Then, we shouldn’t turn down such a generous gift.”
“We’ll meet at the square after class,” Akira said. Those gray eyes behind his thick framed glasses fell to Jun once again. They were perceptive as ever. Jun simply smiled.
The scent of fresh cut flowers managed to overcome the poignant smell of the crowded mall. It was busy that afternoon. With many of the local schools’ exams finally over, it was no surprise so many students wanted a break from studying and the pressure of tests.
Jun liked this store already. Akira had brought him along to this little flower shop tucked away at the end of a hall so he could pick up his work schedule. It felt more like a suggestion log than anything solid, if Jun noted the lone person manning the stall said anything. The way the woman tended to the bouquets and arrangements with such a careful hand, she must have been the owner. She seemed kind.
When Akira approached, she smiled and carefully tucked the clippers into a pocket of her apron. They talked. Jun took the time to look over what the shop had to offer. It was small, yet managed to boast quite an array. Most of the stock was typical: roses, daisies, colorful carnations along with other fare that would be expected of a flower shop.
Jun’s fingers carefully lifted the bloom of a light pink rose. It must be hard to grow much of anything in such a crowded city. He remembered his own challenges back in Sumaru.
“You see something?” Akira asked from Jun’s side. He hadn’t expected him to be done so soon. Jun pulled back and left the flower be as he stood straight.
Looking up at Akira, surrounded by delicate and vibrant petals and blossoms, Jun saw how much his son had grown. He was not a wide-eyed child any longer. A part of Jun’s heart broke at that thought but the youthful ember still burning in those gray eyes mended the ache.
Jun smiled.
Why it hit him now, he couldn’t say. He always noticed. Jun had seen the way Akira had grown and developed into his own person, into a strong and kind man.
“These flowers look well tended to,” Jun settled with. Akira’s eyes lingered before he looked them over himself. Jun kept looking at his son.
“Yeah. We make sure they get everything they need.” Akira’s hand absently twisted some of his fringe between his fingers. His smile was lopsided. It was positively charming.
Jun turned back to the displays. The owner was truly putting her all into these blossoms. It was hard not to see.
“It’s paying off.”
It was so hard not to see anymore.
“Should we get going?” Akira asked. His hand slipped into his trouser pocket. “The others should be arriving soon.”
Jun kept looking down at a display, white poppies and heather gently nestled off to the side. His finger ran along the soft petals. Akira watched patiently. Jun could see the knowing glint behind those frames. His resolve felt rejuvenated.
“Let’s go.”
The station square in Shibuya was becoming more familiar. Returning to the hectic thrum of city life, becoming reacquainted with the crowds and constant chatter, hadn’t been something Jun thought would happen after they had left Sumaru. It may not be such a bad thing. It made him reminiscent.
Tatsuya stood at his side. He had been quiet the entire day. It wasn’t the usual content silence. There was something on his mind. Tatsuya wanted to say something, or maybe reaffirm a thought. Jun looked up to him and offered a solid smile. They had talked in the hotel room.
When Jun reached out and took hold of Tatsuya’s hand at his side, he found it already clutching the lighter. Jun ran his thumb over Tatsuya’s curled fingers.
A few feet away, Akira’s phone buzzed. He opened the chat application and all of his friends leaned over his shoulders to look.
“Haru and Futaba are almost here,” Akira said as Ryuji hung off his shoulder. Akira didn’t look to notice.
“That was nice of Haru to come with Futaba.” Ann was hanging off Akira’s other shoulder, Morgana sandwiched between the two. Jun hadn’t seen a cat’s face look that content before. “It’s kinda out of the way.”
“She wanted to drop some vegetables off to Sojiro, anyway,” Akira offered offhandedly as he typed a reply on his phone. Bewilderment passed Ann’s face, but Akira offered up no further explanation.
“How far out are they?” Makoto asked, standing just behind Ann. Her hand lingered on Ann’s shoulder as she looked over the both of them.
Akira pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he read over the response on his phone. “Ah… they should be arriving in a few minutes.”
The group fell into lively chatter as they decided to wait. Jun watched. Akira’s complexion had cleared since about a month ago. The ugly yellows and browns of the bruising gone, only a few visible yet faint scars around his wrists the only tell left. Akira smiled, a subtle thing, as Ryuji spoke to him, loud and boisterous. It was so painstakingly normal. It made him worry even more.
“There’s something on your mind,” Tatsuya said. He stuffed his hands into the pocket of his dark red jacket, pulling Jun’s along with it. The lighter fell from his fingers and Tatsuya took a proper hold of Jun’s hand. It was a firm grip, but not constraining.
Jun watched the group with Tatsuya, seeing the way Akira intently listened to Yusuke as he pointed something out on his phone.
“I remember what we planned.”
Tatsuya was unconvinced. Jun rubbed his thumb over Tatsuya’s.
“A thought occurred to me,” Jun relented. He looked up to Tatsuya. The afternoon sun peeking through the tall buildings and glass windows caught like fire in brown-red hair and warm eyes. Jun had no choice but to be honest. “There’s something I need to speak to Akira about. I let this continue too far, and I’m afraid their confidence is going to get the better of them.”
Ever since the live news coverage of Okumura’s confession, it had been nothing but doubt eating at his conscience. It fell into place and looking back, Jun could see it then. It was all reactionary. Jun looked back to his son.
“I believe in Akira, but I do not believe he understands the gravity of the situation. You know I’m not just talking about his potential arrest.” Jun’s voice turned low, rough. As though if he spoke even just above a whisper, everything would shatter around him.
Tatsuya’s eyes were sharp, but Jun felt the concern in them. It was heavy. Tatsuya’s hand moved and he intently twined their fingers together inside of his jacket pocket. He turned his attention back towards their son and his friends.
“Say your piece.”
It wasn’t permission Jun was looking for, but it wasn’t permission Tatsuya offered. Maybe a blessing, or simple acceptance. Ever since that summer day the entire situation had never settled right, and it had only been solidified when they had been denied access to the Velvet Room. Something was wrong. In the end, Jun knew Tatsuya understood and that was all Jun needed. Tatsuya’s hand was a solid weight around his own.
“Sorry we’re late, everyone!” a young woman called out as she climbed the stairs up from the underground station, waiving a dainty hand at the group ahead. Jun did not recognize her, but the young girl following close behind is very familiar. He noted how Futaba has a hand casually clinging to the other girl’s large pink sweater. The delay was understandable.
Jun had heard from Tatsuya how patient Haru was. Akira spoke fondly of her as well.
“Oh!” She stopped just shy of the group when she noted Tatsuya just off to the side. Her bright, wide eyes fell on Jun, and her smile is as gentle as a lamb. Futaba broke off, continuing on to stand with the others. She grinned up to Akira, proud, verging on smug. Akira returned it with his own. “You must be Akira’s other father,” Haru said, bringing back Jun’s attention. “I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
Jun was a little floored with how polite and formal she was. With who her family was, and considering the upbringing she had, it was no surprise. Jun returned the smile as enthusiastically.
“The pleasure is all mine.”
“So we goin’ or what?” Ryuji yelled. Akira shrugged him off his shoulder.
As Ryuji caught himself and complained, Akira approached. Morgana perched himself higher up on his shoulder, bright blue eyes focused on the two in front of them.
“Are you sure about this?” Akira asked one final time. His thumb hovered over the phone screen.
Their eyes met and they both held firm. The question was less patronizing and redundant, verging more on an affirmation of both of their resolves. Tatsuya’s hand gently gave Jun’s a grounding squeeze and Jun nodded.
“I want to do this for you.” Jun knew Akira could sense it. It was in those knowing gray eyes and how they lingered on him, not unlike Morgana’s. Nevertheless, there was a glint in them behind those thick frames.
“Then let’s get going.” Akira pressed the button.
Ryuji and Futaba were the first to run off ahead, flying down the stairs as soon as the shift occurred. It wasn’t as jarring as the first time, almost familiar as the warm flame sparked back to life he had clung to years ago. Akira motioned for the others to follow. Jun took one last glance out toward the now empty square and the suddenly imposing buildings. The city was once again empty and Jun recalled what Morgana had called this place. It was lonely once it sunk in. A gentle pull in his heart turned him back towards the stairs, where Akira is waiting.
Everyone reached about halfway down the steps to the underground station. Almost like passing a barrier, each and every one of Akira’s friends ignited as white and blue flames consumed their figures, leaving behind their own symbol of their rebellion. Akira was still standing under the overhang, one foot on the step below, the other still in the square. Morgana jumped from his shoulder, down the steps to join the others. Jun finally followed and Akira extended a hand out.
Jun accepted it. Akira guided him down the steps, a gentlemanly and confident aire about him as he held his head high. A flare ignited about halfway down and Akira’s own school uniform burned away in those bright blue flames. The heat that radiated from it was warm, controlled. There was no raging fire. The black coat and white mask settled as though they had always been there and were always meant to be. Jun couldn’t help but stare. It had been months. The sight never settled right, and maybe it shouldn’t.
Akira might have noticed, but he didn’t comment. Whatever thoughts he may have had, he kept them to himself, and simply kept escorting Jun down the stairway. It was longer than when they had walked up them.
“Why did you agree to this?” Jun asked as they reached the landing. It was as he remembered, maybe a little more vile. The arrival and departure screens still flickered, cracked and broken, and the bright vibrant ads were an eyesore. Akira met his look, and those deep gray eyes caught the red oppressive hue under that mask. He considered the question.
“I was curious,” Akira answered. The simplicity and decisiveness of his voice was all he needed to say.
Akira pushed an emergency exit door open, meeting Jun’s eyes once again with a charming, crooked smile. The others were waiting on the other side, just beyond the ticket gates.
“Joker!”
It grabbed both of their attention. Jun chasided himself, following Akira as he stepped beyond the gates. Futaba was staring at the both of them, bug-like with those large, red goggles of hers. Her foot tapped impatiently.
“So what’s the plan? Mr. Stoic here isn’t saying much and I can’t provide good backup if I don’t know what’s going on.” She either didn’t see the confused yet pointed look Tatsuya shot her, or she ignored it. Makoto was already rubbing at a temple.
Akira shoved his hands into the pocket of his pants and leaning into his hip.
“I’m not the one in the lead today.” With that, he motioned to Jun with a gentlemanly bow and a wave of his hand as he stepped away. All eyes fell to Jun.
Jun looked over the group, noting each and every one of the kids in front of him. There was a fire in each of their eyes. A passion and determination unmatched and an old nostalgia ached. Jun met Tatsuya’s eyes and he clearly remembered what it was like to feel in control, like they were invincible. Jun did not want them to lose that passion, but the fear of what was at stake could not be ignored.
A hand pressed against his chest, over his heart as it beat steadily against his ribs.
“You have all done amazing things. What you can do, what you are capable of, is incredibly special and a gift to be treasured,” Jun began. His voice was steady and firm. “However, there are things I need to say that come from somewhere of pure precaution. I do not want to cause worry, or plant unnecessary doubt in you, but we have been through struggle,” Jun motioned to Tatsuya, standing among the group, “We have been through desperation before. To put it bluntly, I would not be able to live with myself if anything happened to any of you and I hadn’t done everything within my power to help and protect you.”
A silence fell, but it wasn’t solemn.
“You think he might come back?” It was Ann who asked. She pushed her red cat-like mask up out of her face. The spark in her eyes spoke more of a readiness to fight than flee.
“We can’t ignore the possibility,” Tatsuya answered, arms crossed over his chest. Jun nodded.
“Who knows what might happen, or what fate has in store,” Jun continued. He felt Akira’s eyes on him. Jun decided there are certain cards that need to be played to confirm is suspicions and to prove a point to himself. “Call it intuition, or simply a feeling I have. You may not know Philemon,” a sense of confusion crossed the group at that name and it was exactly what he wanted to see. It was an odd comfort, but it didn’t soothe the overarching doubt, “but things are never simple in a place like this. You simply cannot take Personas and Shadows at face value. It goes against their very nature.”
They needed to be aware of the possibility, whether Jun’s concerns were true or not. But losing hope over it was simply out of the question. He cannot stop them, either way. They were past the point of no return even before Jun and Tatsuya got involved.
“I trust and firmly believe in each and every one of you,” Jun said. His face softened and smiled so earnestly, it was like an offering. “But please allow Tatsuya and myself to teach you what we know. It may not be much, but in the very least, it will help settle my worries.”
“We would be honored to learn from the two of you.” It was Makoto who spoke up. Jun hadn’t expected such a hard looking outfit, yet it somehow suited her. The rest of the group nodded, resolute and eager.
It was a relief.
“Then let’s go,” Tatsuya said and stepped away towards the stark subway tunnels proper. He shrugged off his leather jacket and tossed it on top of a decrepit ATM, pushing up the sleeves of his dark gray sweater.
“Oh man, I’ve been waitin’ for this,” Ryuji quickly followed behind.
“I must admit, I’m rather curious myself,” Haru said at Ryuji’s side. She jumped down onto the tracks along with the others. Makoto jogged off ahead of the group, black scarf trailing behind her. She turned to address the entire group.
“Since we’re just here for training, and we have guests, we should stick to this floor for today. Does that sound alright, Joker?”
Akira, still standing up on the platform with Jun, raised a thumbs up.
Jun watched the group head off, and Akira did the same at his side. Tatsuya lead the kids further in, and Jun watched the way he started to explain something. Ryuji, Yusuke, and Haru seem to take particular note.
Akira took a step forward to join them.
“Joker.”
He stopped. Akira looked back. Jun was still looking out down the tunnel. Yusuke was letting Tatsuya borrow his sword.
“I’d like a word with you, if you don’t mind.”
Akira stared and the platform felt suffocating. He finally nodded.
“Are you okay here?” Akira asked.
Jun considered the question. This place spoke of a hollow despair that lingered in each human heart. It brought nothing but a sense of foreboding oppression and a crushing loneliness. The few memories Jun has of this dark and wicked place are unpleasant, but none Jun wished to run from. They’ve become a part of his story and he wouldn’t dare lose any of it again.
The group up ahead radiated with a vibrant energy that Jun hoped would never fade. He hoped the same for Akira.
It was a refreshing wind against the stale, soiled air of Mementos, picking up behind him as Jun let the familiar and ancient feeling embrace him like an old friend. The warmth permeated around him. He recalled the sound of an eternally ticking clock and the flap of golden metal wings.
Chronos rose above him, surrounded in bright blue light, and Jun hadn’t felt that at peace in a long time.
“I’m alright, Akira.”
When he looked behind him, Akira stared up at the metal figure, pure awe shining in those bright gray eyes. Jun wondered if Akira was proud of him.
Akira’s mask was engulfed in those blue flames. Jun’s breath caught only once at the sight. It was the imposing figure above his son, red and black with midnight wings trailing behind like a cloak that reminded him how real this surreal place was.
They both had unreadable masks. The dark flames burn just underneath that pointed face, almost vicious, demon-like in its visage. Yet the tall figure, with its cravat and chained vest, somehow felt kind. Underneath that silent and dangerous front, was first and foremost a gentleman. Arsene circled Jun, black feathers fluttering down only to burn out into black and blue embers. Chronos slowly spinned to follow as they both watched the other. It felt as it should.
Jun pushed up the sleeves of his cardigan and dress shirt as he watched. Akira stepped forward to stand beside him. His face was so clear without that mask or those thick frames.
A gust of wind blew behind them both, bracing against the sudden burst, and Chronos darted down the tunnel. An ethereal glow was cast on the deep red tunnel. It didn’t feel so imposing in the gentle light. Arsene was following close behind. It only took one look to find everyone else watching as well.
Especially Tatsuya. As those metal wings hovered, Tatsuya smiled. It was a burst of familiar light, bright and blinding like the sun, that engulfed Tatsuya. It faded only a second later.
Chronos flew in close to Apollo. That red mask was just as unreadable, but Jun could see those bright blue eyes shine just underneath and how they focus on the angel before it. It had been years. Jun hadn’t let himself feel this light in a long time. Even from the distance, Jun could see that Tatsuya felt the same. The twining figures hover above him, but Tatsuya kept looking to Jun.
“Sit with me,” Jun said. He motioned to the edge of the platform where it dropped off. As he sat and let his legs dangle over the concrete edge, Jun watched Tatsuya turn back to the group and catch their attention once again. Tatsuya always insisted he wasn’t good with people or words, or that he lacked the charisma it took to be a good leader. But Jun remembered how hard he worked and struggled years ago, and he watched him now. Jun saw a man doing his best, and doing just fine.
Coattails flapped as Akira took a seat beside Jun. He bent forward to lean his elbows against his knees. He watched his friends. Ryuji seemed to have volunteered for something. Jun liked the subtle excitement in Tatsuya's smile.
“What did you want to talk about?” Akira asked.
“I never did tell you how Tatsuya and I became Persona users.”
That pulled Akira’s attention away. Jun still kept watch down the dark tunnel. Tatsuya almost looked just like he had years ago in the memories Jun had been stripped of. He held them close now, tight despite the fragile pieces and how they cut into him.
Sometimes, like a whisper of a ghost, Jun would forget. He would remember things that never happened. Chronos turned towards them again. Jun watched it glide over. Its face ticked and Jun reached out a hand as it approached. Fingertips touched and pressed against a metal hand. It was like a mirror. Akira watched silently.
“Chronos was not the one I awoken to.”
The dark and gold metal body gently floated upward, fingertips still touching as Jun’s arm rose to follow. When it was practically overhead, Jun lowered his hand delicately.
“It was when we were still kids, not much older than you when we first took you home.” Jun smiled at the thought. Akira’s eyes widened.
“That young?”
Jun simply nodded.
“Things truly have changed,” Jun sighed, “Back then, all you had to do was play a silly game. Our big sis Maya taught it to us all one day, not long after we met her.” Jun contemplated the memory. He had to remind himself it actually happened, that he did, in fact, have memories at the shrine with the other children who meant the world to him. “I remember her saying she used to think of it as her guardian angel.” It left a bitter taste in Jun’s mouth. “The day I realized the power I had been gifted with,” golden wings spread, draped down over him, “I never once thought of it like that.”
Cold metal fingers slowly reached down and crept up Jun’s neck.
“What was different?”
Akira’s question shook Jun out of the relapse—it was blending together again. Chronos held firm just under Jun’s jaw and he found it grounding.
“What was different…” Jun echoed. It was a fight between what he knew and what someone else wanted him to believe. It was near indistinguishable. “My father,” Jun settled with. “It was around the time my father died. I hadn’t known.”
“How did you not know?” Akira sounded so concerned.
“It’s hard to believe someone is dead when they continue to walk you home from the shrine.”
Chronos ticked, a steady beat in perfect sync with the watch at Jun’s wrist. It was like a heartbeat, linked with his.
“I hadn’t realized the truth until years later that my father had died in that school’s clocktower in some self-sacrificing attempt to keep what he learned from happening. Or maybe I always knew, and the lonely child who lied to his friends and hid the truth won out.” Those metal fingers slip down and metal wings drew away.
Jun stared out. Down the tunnel, Tatsuya is carefully instructing an eager Ryuji. He held out Yusuke’s borrowed katana and just above him Apollo shined bright. Akira watched as well. Arsene stood patiently at his side, black wing draped over Akira’s back. When blue flames erupted from Ryuji’s mask, sparking like lightning, Jun can sense the burning passion from it. Tatsuya egged Ryuji on.
“Do you remember who we mentioned to you this past summer?”
The suddenness of the question caused Akira to turn to Jun. Jun looked to him, his face soft and pliant. Chronos’ faceless head turned as well. Akira stared.
“The one’s Tatsuya and I had concerns over.”
Akira’s silence spoke exactly what Jun had expected. It wasn’t something he wanted his son to have to worry over, but at least Akira seemed to remember the conversation. Jun looked up to Chronos, still steadily ticking, still facing Akira and Arsene.
“My father, or the one I perceived as my father, was the cause of everything.”
Jun remembered the man. He remembered his imposing height and that emotionless smile he offered as he stood underneath the gates to the shrine. The weight of his hand on his small shoulder would never truly go away.
“‘The Crawling Chaos.’ Nyarlathotep.” Jun’s voice grew quiet. The word itself felt like a curse, as though if spoken any louder it would rip apart the peace. Jun’s stare grew pointed, heavy. Akira met it full on. “That was the being that fed me lie after lie. He fueled the rage in me until I succumbed to it, and he was the one who paraded his scheme around as though the destruction of humanity was the point.”
A ripple runs down Arsene’s wings, settling back down against Akira’s back.
“You are the only one who knows of Igor, yet you cannot go there of your own free will?” Jun asked pointedly. Akira’s nod hesitated. “That is not the point of the Velvet Room.”
An explosion, sudden and piercing like thunder, cracked through the tunnel. They both look up and watch Tatsuya stagger back and Ryuji catch himself from falling backwards. Smoke settled as the rest of the group watched, concerned yet excited.
Tatsuya was already back on his feet. Jun liked the eager smile on his face as he urged Ryuji to strike again.
“Why tell me this?” Akira kept his eyes on the group ahead.
“A warning, I suppose.”
Akira’s brows knit together. Arsene minutely turned his head. That black mask still burned from within. Jun sighed.
“I’m not as well in-tuned with these sorts of things as I used to be.” Chronos’ wings flapped once, righting itself as it turns to watch the others down the tunnel. Jun pressed a hand to his heart. “But something isn’t right. I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“…This can’t be about Shido.”
“I wish it were.”
Akira wasn’t short-sighted, yet Jun wanted him to look even further. He needed to look within as well. Their plans, the whole goal of the Phantom Thieves, was to change society for the better. Jun didn’t know how far they planned to go or how they’ll know when they reach it. If they ever would. There lied the issue, or a fragment of it.
Jun looked back to Akira, brows furrowed and heart heavy. The feathers on the wing draped over Akira’s shoulders bristled in agitated defensiveness. Chronos did the same in response, metal feathers scraping against each other.
“I say this as someone who was formerly Joker, and all that it entails: your goals are too lofty and the lack of satisfaction that will bring will lead you down a road you will not recover from.”
Akira didn’t respond, but Arsene looked away and it was all Jun needed to see. He looked back out down the tunnel. Tatsuya was speaking with Haru, who listened intently, battleaxe perched delicately on her shoulder.
“You cannot take this at face value. Someone must be pulling the strings.” Jun almost sounded wistful. “I played right into his hands. I did everything he wanted and orchestrated his plans perfectly because I honestly believed I was doing good.”
Jun sighed.
“I just want you to be careful moving forward.” Jun turned, honest and open.
Akira stayed silent, leaning against his knees as he pressed his mouth against folded hands. The red gloves were a stark contrast.
“Maybe some things haven’t been adding up,” Akira finally admitted. “Ever since you mentioned it a while ago, some things I’ve been told don’t align as well as they should.”
It was a curious thing to say, but Akira was considering his words. Jun did not want Akira to overlook anything. Blue flames spark and Arsene dispersed, flickering away in a cloud of white and blue embers. The white mask returned to his face. Akira jumped down onto the tracks below. He stood tall as he looked up to Jun.
“I’ll be careful.” Akira reached out a hand for Jun to take. Chronos’ hands perched on Jun’s shoulders as it peered down at the thief below. It was then Jun saw it again. He looked down at Akira, at his son, and saw how grounded he stood.
Jun reached out for that hand and let himself be guided down onto the tracks as Chronos vanished behind him.
“Then let’s join the others,” Jun says. He didn’t want to linger on this. “There’s still a few things for me to teach you.”
It was hours later, exhausted but in high spirits, that they left Mementos and gathered once again in crowded square of Shibuya. Jun was wrong about his earlier assessment of Haru: the young woman is much more like a lioness, her elegance hiding vicious and unhindered strength. Her pleasant smile as she eagerly chatted with Yusuke at her side felt completely different now. Akira smiled easily around her, and everyone else, a sense of pride just underneath the gentle curve.
Akira held himself tall, that confidence from the adrenaline high still lingering.
Tatsuya and Jun both linger as the others chat and some make plans to get back together. Past the crosswalk, above the street on a tall building, a news report was broadcasted on one of the large screens.
“…There, they announced the poor health of their leader, Shido Masayoshi.”
The group quickly feel silent. All eyes looked up to the report, too serious. Teenagers should never look so serious.
“As such, the special Diet session was postponed, along with Shido’s inauguration as prime minister.”
“Postponed…?” Makoto’s voice dripped with disbelief and disgust. The sentiment was clearly shared around the entire group. A quiet anger burned just behind Akira’s glasses as he kept a pointed stare to that report. Ryuji’s frustration was much more volatile.
“They should be firing him!” It was practically a snarl.
“And wait, ‘poor health?’” Ann’s voice reeked of dubious belief and skepticism. She quickly started digging through her pockets for her phone, her lip pinched up in disgust. At her side, Makoto looked distressed, trying to sort out the information suddenly presented to her and unable to pin the pieces together.
“This is completely different from what my sister told us…”
“I heard he barely slept during the election campaign,” a languid man offhandedly commented to his friend a few feet away from the station stairs, “I don’t blame him.”
“He’s not going to step down, is he?” his friend asked, the worry sounded honest in his voice even from the distance, “Will this country be fine with Shido?” The rest of their conversation fell out as they walked toward the crosswalk. Akira kept a careful eye on the people around them. Jun noted that Tatsuya was doing the same at his side, his stern face hard and almost unreadable. It had been too much to hope for a simple resolution, and even with the preparation and knowledge of the inevitable, Jun’s heart raced. He kept watching the news report.
“How can people still believe in him…?” Yusuke had sounded so frustrated and distraught. It was no surprise that people were hard to convince. Why change one’s point of view, even if new information contradicts what one knows? Dismissal and consistency always seemed to be the answer, despite how frustrating such notions could be. People want change yet they constantly fight against it.
“What the heck!?” Ann’s sudden outburst pulled Jun away from the report and everyone looked to her. She stared down at her phone, eyes wide and distressed as she held back the few strands of hair falling from her hair clip. Morgana jumped from Akira’s shoulder to Ann’s when they had moved closer. “The Phantom Thieves are being treated like, well… like they never existed!”