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Watching through glasses

Summary:

It’s weird how different Akira looked without his glasses. Younger, softer. Sad.
Sojiro doesn’t care, of course. He’s just doing his job.

Notes:

Hey

So... I’m actually deep in writers block... and I’ve got like five open first chapters. But then I fell in love with Persona well damn.

Honestly, not sure if Akiras glasses are really fake or if it’s just a headcanon. Anyway I like it that’s why I adopted it.
This story has no plot. I just wrote down my thoughts about no-glasses Akira.
Who needs plot anyway.

Does anyone else get craving for curry after playing this damn game?

Not betaed, because I don’t have one and I’m blind for my mistakes - so sorry

~Hikari

Work Text:

The first time Sojiro saw the kid without his glasses he did a double take. It was the evening of the firework festival and due to the lack of a kimono Akira’s friends had asked him to leave his glasses at home at least. Sojiro shook his head at this logic but had to admit that his charge looked different without them, less distanced somehow, more approachable.
The coffee shop owner watched the boy leave before returning into the tiny kitchen to prepare a fresh batch of curry. On a day like this people in search for a hearty meal after an evening well spend found their way into Leblanc. He wanted to be prepared.

~

The next time was more of an accident, really. Sojiro entered the coffee shop after a quick grocery run to the image of Akira and that damn cat having some kind of weird argument. As of late he liked to leave the boy to tend to the shop while he himself was running a few errands, it was way more convenient than to take care of them during the wee hours of morning or after closing for the day. Until now he never had any reason to regret that decision, Akira had listened to the more irritating customers and even made a bit of polite small talk to the lonelier ones. In that point he might’ve even been a better employee than Sojiro himself. But today it was different, not only had he gone against the clear rule of the cat not roaming around in the shop, but he didn’t even feel ashamed about it.

At the second glance Sojiro realized that Morgana had apparently snatched the boy’s glasses and was doing his best to taunt him for it? Honestly, Sojiro didn’t know how the cat had managed that and he didn’t particularly cared. He instead pushed open the café door, paying close attention to let the bell chime as loudly as possible while doing so. The freezing in the two of them satisfied Sojiro more than he cared to admit, so he bit back his smirk and instead put on his most disapproving face. Well, at least now the boy thought about looking guilty.

Meanwhile Morgana dropped the glasses on the counter he had just perched on before bounding up the stairs into the safety that was Akira’s attic room. Smart thing. The boy just stared at Sojiro with a kind of worried uneasiness, eyes big and round even without the glasses. Wait, was it possible that those glasses were fake? At least Akira didn’t seem to have any trouble picking up his surroundings right now. Sojiro wanted to chew the kid out, but for some reason the urge vanished when even after a few seconds the boy didn’t move and just waited in some kind of upset anticipation. It seemed as if the lesson hit home already so there wasn’t any real need to waste more energy on that.

“You’re doing the dishes tonight. If I catch you again you won’t get off this lucky.”
Akira picked up his glasses, slid them on like a mask and went to work. He hadn’t said a word and kept quiet until Sojiro said his goodbyes later that evening. He was an odd kid.

~

There were days when the kid went to bed uncommonly early. It wasn’t as if he was being an unreasonable teenager who regularly went out late or stayed awake to play video games at night like Futaba or Ryuji, but normally he went to bed around curfew times. Notable exceptions had been the day before exams when he’d been out studying as much as he managed with his friends somewhere. All in all, Akira was actually a really tame sixteen-year-old. Sometimes even a bit too much so, in the chief’s opinion.
All of that aside, sometimes the group of mismatched kids would meet up somewhere, either directly after school or when they were free just after lunch. Sojiro wasn’t sure what exactly they were up to then, but even though Akira was home in time he always looked uncharacteristically tired and exhausted. For a while he had assumed the kids were out to play baseball or whatever sports the youth was crazy about nowadays, but there was a different vibe on these nights than when Akira had been out at the gym with Ryuji. Well, it wasn’t important for Sojiro to know anyway, as long as Akira kept out of trouble, which he seemed to do. There had been no more calls from Shujin after that first day, so it couldn’t be too bad.

On one of these occasions the kid looked as dead on his feet as usual and even the lively cat seemed to lack energy for his usual chatter. Sojiro only received a quiet greeting before the unlikely duo fled upstairs and soon enough he could hear the creaking of the bed under the kids weight. Just as the chief contemplated closing up for the day as well, the doorbell chimed again to the entry of one of his regulars. Takashi was an office worker in Shibuya who liked to evade rush hour traffic on his way home or just have someone listening to his opinions. Sojiro wasn’t too big of a fan of him, but Takahashi was one of the few patrons who at least kept ordering coffee if they stayed in the shop longer. He really couldn’t afford to pique the pompous man, so grudgingly the chief asked for the order and started to grind another round of beans.

Apparently, office had been particularly annoying for Takashi because he occupied a booth along with three cups of coffee for around two hours. Sojiro didn’t pay too much attention to what was going on, really, his remaining motivation to feign interested was steadily declining and the thought of going home for a nice meal and a movie was turning daunting. Surely Futaba would be just as beat as Akira, so he wouldn’t bother with cooking something fancy. Just a nice, relaxed evening, was that too much to ask for?

After what couldn’t have been more than another thirty minutes, but felt like a life time, Takahashi said his goodbyes and left. Thank whatever deity available that no other costumer had wandered in in the meantime. Maybe someone had taken pity on him after all.

Or maybe not.

Sojiro just washed out the coffee pot and put it down to dry, when the meowing started. At the beginning It was acceptable enough, but the longer it went on, the more the cat noises contorted into something like screaming. How did Akira manage to sleep through that? After all, Sojiro had told him months ago that he wouldn’t take care of that damn cat the kid had brought back.

Eventually the chief decided to figure out what the hell was going on in his attic and climbed up the stairs just in time to witness the kid awake from what seemed to be a nightmare.
And thank god Morgana stopped making those horrendous noises as well.
Wait, did he try to wake Akira up?

“Hey kid, you need anything?”

Sojiro didn’t care, he just didn’t want his charge to get into trouble at night. He was just doing what he was paid for, anyway.
It might’ve been the mix of the soft sleep clothes and the missing frames hiding most of Akira’s face when the light fell conveniently, but the chief couldn’t remember to have ever seen the boy look so young. Right then he looked even less like the teenage delinquent who barely escaped juvie than the day he’d set foot into Sojiro’s shop. He honestly doubted that Akira could be at all frightening or dangerous, he was just a kid far away from home. He’d picked up a stray cat and let it sleep in his bed for gods sake.

“Boss?”

In the dim light of the setting sun Sojiro could see how awareness returned into the kids features. The dark eyes became clearer again and the stiff posture dropped into the more familiar slump.
But all Sojiro could see at that moment was a boy, confused and tired and alone, sitting up in this slightly dazed way abruptly woken people always had. Akira looked so much like a young Futaba at that moment that he though someone stuck a hand in his chest and squeezed his old heart tightly. Sojiro realized that there’d never been a day when the kid had looked less beaten and just plain sad than right that minute. Not even when he arrived that first day, insecure and obviously reeling from all the new information around him. Akira always looked pleasant, smiling softly, sometimes smirking. Brooding and thoughtful? Sure. But with a face that made it seem as if his world had been ripped out under his feet and left him desperate to hang onto something? No, that was new.

Or was it?

“Well, that damn cat was yelling, I hope you haven’t forgotten to feed it?”

Of course the boy hadn’t, in fact Sojiro had even caught Akira giving Morgana some of Convenience Store sushi the other day, but it was as good as a distraction than anything.

“There’s still some curry downstairs, I know you haven’t had dinner yet. Maybe you both need some food.”
Sojiro turned around but lingered in the doorway before adding, a bit reluctantly: “A filled stomach helps sleeping. At least that’s what I’ve been taught.”

Akira did creep down into the shop not too much later, Morgana at his heels, the chief admitted he’d doubted that. He still was inly wearing his sweat pants and shirt, hadn’t bothered either with his glasses or shoes. They shared a long, thoughtful look and then Akira slid into a barstool, cat jumping on the one at his side.

“You don’t have to wait for me, I can lock the place up for you when I’m finished,” the boy offered with weary eyes; too old eyes in a too young face. Sojiro made a decision, had made it long ago really, if he was being honest.
“Nah, its fine, kid. I didn’t have any plans for the evening anyway.”