Work Text:
The kid exploded into the empty café, nearly causing Sojiro to drop the cup he was washing. That the bell hadn’t flown off was nothing short of a miracle. Sojiro fixed Ryuji with a frown that melted as soon as the kid made eye contact.
“Sorry, Boss.” The kid meant it, too. His emotions were always right on his face, plain as day. Sojiro could sometimes hear the other kids making fun of him for it. One day they’d look back and appreciate having known someone so honest. They were too young to know that yet, though.
Akira followed Ryuji into the café, closing the door gently behind him. If Sojiro didn’t regularly hear them laughing, gaming, and generally raising hell upstairs their friendship would be a mystery to him. Akira was loud with Ryuji. Around adults Akira was closed-off and near-silent. Sojiro could always catch the kid reading the room, thinking about what to say. It used to piss him off--who was this kid to try and manipulate him? But now he knew it for what it was: preemptive self-defense.
“Ah, you’re back.”
Akira glanced at Sojiro and smiled. There was no tentative calculation there, just camaraderie. The kid was still pretty quiet around Sojiro, but it felt different now. More familiar. Ever since Sojiro had made it clear that this was Akira’s home--well. They were family, after all.
“You kids hungry?”
“Yeah!” Ryuji threw his bag on the floor and spun around one of the tall chairs to sit on it backwards. Sojiro chuckled. It was easy to imagine what kind of child Ryuji had been; he still was that child.
Akira was more subdued. “Sure.” Sojiro frowned at Akira’s response; quiet the kid may be, but he usually lent some more enthusiasm towards food. Akira set his bag on a chair and pulled out his phone. Sojiro hated that damn thing; the kid was always glued to it. Now Ryuji was on his too; kids these days were addicted to those things.
“Oh shi--” Ryuji’s eyes flicked over to Sojiro. “Uh, I mean, dang. I have an English assignment due tomorrow.” He slapped at Akira’s arm. “Can you help me with it, Mr. Top of the Class?”
“Huh?” Akira batted halfheartedly at Ryuji’s hand. “Oh, yeah, sure.”
The cat jumped out of Akira’s bag, jumped onto the counter and yowled in Ryuji’s direction. Ryuji’s face went red.
“Sh-shut up, you dumb cat!”
The cat triumphantly flicked its tail, jumped to the floor, and sauntered to the front door. Sojiro stubbed out his cigarette; he could swear that Ryuji and the cat had some kind of rivalry going on for Akira’s attention. Akira, however, was ignoring them both, still buried in his phone.
“Akira, get off your damn phone and let the cat out.”
Akira immediately did as he was asked--the kid’s obedience had always been remarkable, especially compared to a certain daughter--though there was something off in his face. He closed the door once the cat’s tail flicked out of sight and stood for a second with his back to them, staring out the window.
Sojiro cleared his throat. “You alri--”
“I’m going to go change. I’ll be back down in a bit. I'm sorry, but please start without me.” Sojiro frowned at the tone of the kid’s voice; it was perfectly neutral, a thing he only did when really upset. He tried to read Akira’s face as he walked by, but the way the glasses caught the light made it difficult. Sojiro was half convinced the kid knew how to do that on purpose.
That got Ryuji off his phone at least. He was staring after his friend with an open look of worry. Sojiro lit another cigarette. It was time for an interrogation.
“Hey. You know how to make rice?”
“Do I?!” Ryuji turned and his look of worried changed into a confident grin. “I always make the rice at home.”
Sojiro raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Yeah. My mom works a lot, so I try to help.”
“Hmm. Sounds like you’re a good son.”
Ryuji shrugged. “Not really.”
“Your dad help out at all?” Ryuji was around enough that Sojiro had his suspicions. They were confirmed by the way kid’s shoulders bunched up.
“Nah. We do fine on our own.” He took on an impressively casual air. “All that stuff’s in the past, anyways. I just try to help now.”
Sojiro nodded at him. “That’s good of you.” It hurt sometimes, seeing these kids. They were so flexible now, so adaptable. They didn’t yet know that the same things they could shrug off now would keep them up at night decades later. Sojiro wished he could protect them from that. “Well, show me these rice cooking skills, then.”
The kid’s eyes sparkled and he washed his hands without being asked. Sojiro smiled and began making Akira a cup of coffee. He loved how comfortable the kids were here. “So, is everything going okay with your…work?”
Ryuji scooped out the last little bit of rice and ate it. “Mm’s fine.” He coughed a bit as he swallowed. “It’s--um. We’re kind of stressed, but yeah.” He gestured up to Akira’s room with his chin. “That guy’s got us covered.”
Sojiro took a drag while he watched the grounds bloom. It was all well and good that Akira was reliable and mature for his age (as the kid’s teacher put it in the last report), but it wasn’t good for so much to be resting on young shoulders. Especially with how dangerous all the people interested in that cognitive pscience stuff could be…
Sojiro sighed on the exhale; they already knew that first hand. This wasn’t a place for old men to interfere. “He's upset.”
It was a direct statement; he’d learned a while ago that it was best to be direct with Ryuji. Sojiro tended the coffee in the following silence. He could hear the rice pouring into the cooker, followed by the water. The machine happily chimed a tune as it started up. Sojiro finished preparing the cup of coffee and set it on the counter. “You want a soda?”
“Yeah.” Ryuji was staring down at the rice cooker. “Hey, Boss?”
“Mm?”
“You ever meet his parents? Akira’s.”
Sojiro crossed his arms. He’d never met them, but he’d spoken to them on the phone on and off. “Hmm. Never in person.”
Ryuji moved back to his seat, scraping the chair on the floor. “But you’ve talked to them, yeah? What are they like?”
Sojiro got the kid a soda and turned to the curry. They’d been angry, embarrassed. No, humiliated. They had spoken of Akira as though he were some stranger who had killed off their ideal son. His father had kept referring to Akira as, ‘that person in jail.’ His mother had been strictly business. “It’s hard to tell from phone calls.”
It was even harder to admit how thoroughly Akira’s parents had distanced from their son. The last time Sojiro had called them to report Akira’s grades--top of the class, he was still so proud of the kid--his mother had made their dismissal clear. Thank you for your diligence, Sakura-san. However, we do not need these regular updates. Please only report to the probation officer. We’ll deal with the child when he’s returned home.
He’d seen it before, parents who wanted their kids to come up in their perfect image, who threw the kid away when that image wasn’t met. Hell, he even knew that adults could be irrationally angry at children for something outside of the kid’s control--Futaba’s family was a whole damn study in that--but it still shook him. Akira was a good kid, and was doing his best. Even without all the hocus pocus stuff the kids were mixed up in, Akira was showing solid leadership skills and a will to succeed. Sure, it seemed unlikely that a good college would take him with a violent record--but hell, Akira was good at adapting. Maybe he’d even run the shop someday, if it didn’t bore him too much. Akira didn’t need much to excel; he just needed to know he was wanted.
And that was the thing. Sojiro took another drag of his cigarette. In the beginning he’d been so fast to impress upon the kid how unwanted he was--unwanted in the café, unwanted in the school, even unwanted by his parents. The truth of the last made Sojiro’s regret even worse; he’d been such a fucking idiot. Worse--he’d been cruel. Sojiro had tried to assure the kid that he had a home with the Sakuras ever since, that he belonged. That he was family. That even...even if he were disowned he would have a place here.
But it still felt like all the sincere words he said now could never make up for the cruel ones he’d said months ago, when the kid had been scared and truly alone. Sojiro let out the smoke. He knew it would take a while before he could forgive himself for that, if ever.
“Boss?”
Sojiro snapped his attention back to Ryuji and stubbed out his cigarette. “Sorry. Sometimes this old brain wanders off.” He dusted his hands off on his apron. “So, his parents. Is that why he’s upset? He finally hear from them?”
Ryuji looked crestfallen. “No. I mean, yeah his parents but no he didn't hear anything. But really, it’s…uh. It’s my fault.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I’m bad at…” The kid hunched over the counter. “A lot of us have parent stuff, you know? And like, I get it. You just don’t talk moms around Futaba, you know? And I guess not Yusuke or Makoto or Haru or--yeah, wow, we’re not doing too good with moms, huh. I guess, what I mean is, Akira and Ann have both their parents, and like? It’s hard to remember sometimes that having both parents don’t mean you’re happy. And then I like, complain that my mom wants me to go to the store, but at least she loves me? So why should I complain, especially to someone who has it worse? Like imagine if I said that to Futaba. But sometimes it’s hard to remember. I think he doesn’t want to talk to me about it because he has two parents, but I have one. But I’m close to my mom so that makes it hard for him too since his mom hates him? I don’t know.”
The kid was spiraling; Sojiro gestured at the soda. Ryuji huffed in relief and guzzled it. “It’s unfair to yourself to compare your pain to others' and feel unworthy of hurting. Everything is relative.” Sojiro waved his hand as the kid stared at him. “Old folks’ wisdom.”
“No, yeah, that’s what I tried to say!” He burped quietly into the crook of his arm. “Sorry. Yeah, I tried to say that to him, that he can talk to me about his parents and not feel bad, you know? It came out all wrong, though.” The kid deepened into his hunch. “And he gets so sad when I talk to my mom, like hearing us hurts.”
Sojiro closed his eyes. He’d hoped Akira had somehow remained untouched by all this, but what kid would? Driven expectation may not have been healthy, but at least it was attention. Now...now Akira didn't even exist to them. Of course that hurt.
“Mom called me on the way here, and we were teasing back and forth, and I was a total assh--uh, jerk for not thinking about how it would affect Akira. He got so quiet, and now he’s like this.” Ryuji stared into his empty glass. “I’m a bad friend.”
Sojiro took the glass and refilled it. “It’s not your fault, you know.”
The kid looked annoyed. “Yeah, I know. That's not the point.” He accepted the soda with a thanks.
Sojiro waved the thanks off and tried to remember a time Akira had ever mentioned his parents to him. Never, so far as Sojiro could remember. "He ever mention them at all?"
Ryuji shrugged. “Some. You know how he’s such a nerd studying all the time? His parents wanted him to get into a top college, I guess. He used to even do cram school. Can you imagine?”
Sojiro chuckled. “He seems pretty content sleeping past noon and reading manga, now.”
“Right? Oh, and the baseball thing--apparently his mom taught him. His mom! Funny, right? But they’d practice every weekend--that’s why he’s so awesome at it. And she’d go to all of his games unless she had a meeting. She figured between the sport and the books he would definitely get in, but he went along with it all because he liked it. Crazy, huh?”
Sojiro smiled, even though his heart hurt a bit. Here he was supposedly the kid’s guardian, and he didn’t even know Akira liked baseball, let alone played it. Just another way he was…bad at all this.
Ryuji sipped his soda. “I don't get it. I mean, I get that they like, had an idea for him. And I get that he can’t do the idea anymore but…he’s just. He’s just such a good person. That has to mean something.” The kid sighed. “And it hurts him--I mean, obviously it hurts him. I can’t imagine my mom just not wanting me anymore. Just the thought…”
Sojiro nodded. The clock ticked; the TV flashed its mute sign. Ryuji traced a finger though the water ring left by his glass. There was a faint sound of music coming from upstairs. Akira was always playing music on that rebuilt laptop of his. Maybe Sojiro would ask Futaba for help and buy him some nice speakers after finals.
“I wish…” Ryuji scrubbed a hand through his hair; Sojiro caught a glimpse of black roots. “He’s always there for me, you know? And…and he’s real important to me. But I suck at this. I don’t know how to be the person he needs.” The kid’s eyes went wide after he finished speaking, and he turned faintly pink. “Uh, sorry. I got too real, haha! We’re talking about Akira, not me.”
“Hmm.” Sojiro studied Ryuji as the kid went back to his phone, his pink face slowly reddening as he scrolled through some app. Sojiro knew he was old--at least he felt old--but he also wasn’t an idiot. He saw the way these two were around each other. Ryuji, clearly confused as all hell, all but shouting his COMPLETELY EXCLUSIVE attraction to girls any time someone would listen. And Akira--well. Akira looking at Ryuji like Sojiro used to look at Wakaba. Feeling lucky to have someone like that in his life, wishing there could be something more. Sojiro wondered if Akira was fully like him in this regard: too much of a coward to honestly try for it. Too ready to settle for silent pining. Too…comfortable, thinking there would always be time.
“Hey.” Ryuji looked up at Sojiro’s voice. He looked apprehensive. “More old man wisdom for you. We--” How to put this to a kid? How to explain that worrying about how to do the right thing, or about what people would think--even the people you love--was such a waste of time? That someday these people could be gone, and you’d be left alone with a thousand regrets?
But Ryuji was staring at him intently, and if it was easy to see the child he had been, it was even easier to see the man he would soon become. It would be unfair to treat him as anything less.
“It will always hurt to watch your loved ones suffer. And that feeling of helplessness? Well, that never really goes away. You’ll always wonder whether you said the wrong thing, or whether you’re missing something. And people…well.” Sojiro scratched the back of his neck. “The important thing is this: Akira is lucky to have a friend like you. He needs someone like you. Don’t get too stuck on what you can’t do for him, or what you think others will think about you, okay? Just be yourself for him. That’s what he needs.”
The kid nodded seriously. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Sojiro nodded towards the ceiling. “Why don’t you go get him? His coffee is getting cold.”
Ryuji clattered out of his chair. He scrubbed his hand through his hair again. “Hey, Boss?”
“Yeah?”
The kid smiled, open and honest. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Thanks for making the rice.”
This made the kid beam. He stomped his way upstairs yelling, “WHAT’S WITH THE EMO MUSIC?”
“Emo?!”
“Akira’s emo~~~”
“Am NOT! You’re emo--GAH!” Akira’s yelp was followed by a tumbling thump. The vibration shook the cups on their shelves. Sojiro glared at the ceiling.
“HEY! TAKE IT EASY! THIS IS A BUSINESS!”
The glare turned into a smile and a laugh at the harmonized, “Sorry!!!” that came in response. He shook his head. “Just come down here and get your food!” He lit another cigarette; he took out his phone to summon his daughter as the two teens crashed down the stairs, now arguing about something someone named Mona had said.
Something tugged in his heart. Sojiro hoped--
Futaba’s voice blossomed in his ear. “CURRY TIME??? CURRY TIME!! Don’t let them start without me, Sojiro! I can HEAR Ryuji and he eats too much! I MEAN it!!!!”
He smiled and promised to defend her curry with his life and honor. He hung up, slid the coffee over to Akira, and was rewarded with another quiet smile. Ryuji threw an arm around Akira’s shoulder and declared that even BOSS knew Mona was a huge jerk. Sojiro raised an eyebrow; for some reason this made both kids laugh. Futaba exploded into the café almost as loudly as Ryuji had, squeezing herself between the two boys and demanding EVERYONE STOP MESSING AROUND UNTIL I GET MY CURRY. The cat flew in on her heels, yowling its head off, which led to Ryuji turning on it and shouting that it SHUT UP ALREADY! Akira wrapped his arm around Futaba’s shoulders and mussed her hair while she shrieked YOU’RE SO RUDE, JOKER!!!! Sojiro sighed as he watched a customer approach the door, look in, and back away.
It was rambunctious, it was loud, and it was bad for business. And yet try as he might, Sojiro couldn’t think of anything more wonderful. Sojiro hoped--more than he had in a long time, so much that he almost needed to yell it out into the noise in the café. He hoped to the point of willing it into reality; he wouldn't settle for anything less.
These kids...he hoped these kids would always have each other.