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The courthouse in summer is unimaginably stifling. There’s no air conditioning on the floor with the family courts, and he has to wear his suit jacket to look as respectable as possible, so he also has to wash the jacket constantly. It’s starting to fray. The fact that they’re still coming here after five months doesn’t help much. The comparison to purgatory is so obvious it’s unavoidable, but the images that word conjures in his mind turn his stomach in the June heat, so he tries to avoid it anyway.
It’s almost over, though, one way or another. After weeks of hearings and delays and unknowns and small victories and smaller defeats, the final ruling is being issued next month. He stays, or he goes. So far, where it really mattered – when it came to where he’d live while the trial went on, when it came to whether or not Sojiro even had the right to petition for custody – they won. Which means there’s no reason to believe they won’t keep winning. But that doesn’t stop him worrying. And it doesn’t make it easier to show up there and listen to his parents’ lawyer call him a criminal.
It’s not like he ever really thought that it would just – go away. He knew exactly what he was getting himself into when he let himself get caught twice. But that doesn’t make it any easier to be treated like a criminal when his official record has been wiped of all wrongdoing. At least the men who hang out with radios in Yongen-Jaya know what he’s actually done.
Today is the hottest day of summer so far, and it’s taking more effort than usual to keep his cool in spite of this as the gate employee at the courthouse checks the contents of his messenger bag with a suspicious look. He consoles himself with the reminder that Yusuke is joining him here after – they have a date this afternoon.
He makes it to the courtroom without incident, greets the judge and Sojiro and their lawyer and settles into a pew in front. He probably won’t have to talk much today, but he needs to be there anyway. He’d probably be there even if he didn’t have to. Sojiro keeps him up to date, but he still feels better when he can be in the room while his future is being decided.
They’re getting started in a couple minutes when a knock comes at the door. The judge frowns, getting up from her seat to greet the intruder as the bailiff opens the door. To Akira’s surprise, it’s Yusuke, looking more than a little uncomfortable framed in the oversize doorway.
She scowls, and his boyfriend shrivels. “Sorry, sir, but juvenile court proceedings aren’t open to the public.”
“He’s – not the public.” Akira interrupts, and she turns to look at him quizzically. “That’s – he’s my boyfriend.”
Her eyes widen a little bit, but she doesn’t miss a beat. “Are you okay with him being here today, then?”
“Yes.”
She nods to the bailiff. “Let him through. Kurusu-san, I’d appreciate it if you gave me an advance warning when you’re anticipating guests.”
“Duly noted. Thank you, ma’am.” He says. But he would have said something if he’d been anticipating anything.
Yusuke awkwardly shuffles to the front of the room and they hug briefly before breaking apart, Akira’s brow furrowed with concern.
“Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s – fine. I’m sorry, I just – I got here early and seemed silly to just sit around waiting downstairs.” Yusuke whispers. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No.” Akira insists, but his feelings must show on his face because Yusuke somehow contrives to scowl and look like a kicked puppy at once. “Listen, it’s fine, we can talk about it later. Just – sit down.”
He does, and Akira sit beside him as the remainder of the people in the room settle into place. Sojiro, at a table in front, glances back at him with an expression he can now read easily –
He nods. Sojiro nods back, and he can feel Yusuke looking between the two of them, and feels anxiety rise in his stomach. He reaches for Yusuke’s hand and takes it, and instead of balling into a fist, his fingers just – relax.
It starts. It’s… pretty much what he expected. It’s not what he expected to have Yusuke here, but it’s… fine, actually. He hadn’t wanted him to see what this actually looked like – his integrity picked apart and put back together piece-by-piece, things he’s proud of made to look like demerits – but once it’s actually gotten started, it doesn’t bother him at all. The worst of the lies just sound hollow and empty and desperate, and the rest of it – he doesn’t mind. It’s not like the arguments their lawyer makes are wrong. He is doing better in Sojiro’s house, and being forced to go back when he’s so freshly stable would make things catastrophically worse. It’s half the story, and it’s embellished to maximize pity and minimize any implication that he did everything on purpose and he’d do it again in a heartbeat. But it’s not really wrong.
They adjourn early. Secretly, he thinks maybe the judge was tired of the weather too, but he doesn’t say it, just stands and bows and doesn’t make eye contact with anyone on the other side of the room as he squeezes Yusuke’s hand and makes his way up through the gates to talk to Sojiro.
He’s talking to a lawyer, but breaks off to turn to him, hands uneasily in pockets. “Hey. Everything okay with you and the kid?”
‘The kid’ is what Sojiro has taken to affectionately calling Yusuke since Akira confessed the nature of their relationship to him. It’s not Akira’s favorite nickname, but Yusuke thinks it’s cute, so he hasn’t said anything.
“Everything’s… fine.” Akira responds, glancing over Sojiro’s shoulder to where Yusuke is sitting waiting on the bench. Sojiro follows his gaze and raises a hand in silent greeting: tentatively, Yusuke waves back. “He’s just early. I told you we have a date tonight.”
“You told me.” He pauses. “I’m just going to assume that if you actually weren’t okay with him being here, you would have said something.”
A year in, Akira has as much trouble being parented as Sojiro does parenting, but he fights off the awkwardness that comes from being so obviously cared for and nods. “Yeah. I mean – yeah, I think so. It was a surprise, but – it really is fine. I’m not ashamed of anything.”
“You shouldn’t be.” Sojiro replies quickly, and for a moment they’re both caught up in the awkwardness of that instinct before Sojiro clears his throat. “Are you, uh, coming home for dinner? I can make enough for both of you.”
“Not sure yet. I’ll text you.”
Sojiro nods, and gives him a quick, slightly uncomfortable hug before Akira hustles back over to Yusuke, slings an arm around him, and leads him out of the courthouse.
As soon as they’re through the metal detectors and back outside, he lets out a breath, knocking his head back to stare at the sky as he sheds his coat. “Where do you wanna go?”
Yusuke’s staring at the sky too, and he takes a second to lower his gaze and lock eyes with his boyfriend. “Sorry, what?”
Akira raises his eyebrows and pushes down a lurch of anxiety. “I said where do you wanna go?”
“Oh. Perhaps the park?”
Yusuke always suggests the park, because the park is free, and he usually gets his way, because that conversation doesn’t get easier no matter how many times they have it. Conversely, it’s like 90 degrees and climbing. Akira shakes his head. “It’s kind of hot. I can spot you for a movie.”
“Sure.”
His tone is clipped, but not icy, which means he’s not mad, but he’s thinking. Akira’s grown used to him getting like this, sometimes – long silences followed by long stretches where he won’t shut up and he talks with his hands. Honestly, he thinks it’s cute. But it’s less cute when it starts happening right after his boyfriend storms into a family court hearing.
He waits until they’re on the subway platform, out of the heat and in relative privacy, before he breaks that silence. “Yusuke, is everything okay?”
One good thing, at least, is that Yusuke doesn’t lie to him when he asks questions like that. “It’s… not. But it concerns you – it’s not your fault, but – I don’t want to perturb you by bringing up something that you’d perhaps rather leave well enough alone.”
The knowledge that this is about exactly what he thought it was about doesn’t make Akira feel any better, but it’s also not any worse than wondering was. “Hon, I promise – whatever it is, it’s not as perturbing to me as seeing you upset.”
Yusuke bites his tongue, and Akira has to take a breath to stay stable. “It’s just… the way that they talked about you. Your parent’s lawyer. And the judge, and the… the whole thing. They were treating you like you’re just some troubled youth with a checkered past. And you…” He pauses for a long moment before continuing, clearly weighing whether the next words are worth it. “You let them.”
Remarkably, Akira finds his heart is steady. Not because it’s fun, or easy – but certainly, this is familiar territory. He’s had the conversation with himself enough times that having it with his boyfriend doesn’t seem so scary at all. “Okay. I’m sorry you were upset. But Yusuke – I am a troubled youth with a checkered past.”
“You’re more than that.”
“Of course I am. And I know that, and you know that, and Sojiro knows that. But the judge doesn’t need to know that. She sees 20 families in that room a week, how could she know that? The only way she can do her job is to… compartmentalize things. Simplify them. And we’re winning, right now. So if simplifying me – if being a troubled youth with a checkered past is what lets me stay here, I can be just that.”
“But it’s wrong.”
“Sure it is. But what else am I supposed to do?”
“You could tell them they’re wrong. You don’t have to make compromises. You could tell them the truth.”
“Okay. So I should confess that I was actually rightfully arrested, and we planned it, and I’m not sorry for anything I’ve ever done? That would probably play great with the attorneys.”
“I’m not saying that.”
“Hon, I know you’re trying, but – that’s exactly what you’re saying.”
Yusuke opens his mouth to speak, but he stops. His hand, raised as if to make a point, slowly drops back to his side, and when Akira reaches out to grab it, he doesn’t back away. “I’m sorry. I just – I shouldn’t have said anything. Certainly, I shouldn’t have sprung that on you. I clearly wasn’t thinking.”
“No. I’m glad you said something. And you don’t have to be sorry. I – it definitely was a surprise, but it wasn’t… a bad one.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He squeezes his hand. “I was a little scared when you showed up, but – I don’t know. It was kind of nice to have someone there who – saw it.” He pauses. “Someone who would call me out for lying.”
“I shouldn’t have – “
“You should. That’s… I’m not going to do anything different. I’ve thought it through maybe a hundred times now, when I’m there, when I’m on the subway, when I’m trying to sleep. That’s how I know. No matter how many ways I look at it, it’s the option – it’s the only option. But I’m glad – it’s nice to talk about it with you.”
Yusuke smiles, but he still looks off.
Akira waits a second before speaking. “Are you okay?”
He bites his lip. “I think so. Or I don’t… I’m sorry. I’m not sure I know how to put it into words.”
“Try me.”
He takes a long breath. “You won’t be angry?”
“I don’t plan on it.”
Yusuke hesitates for another second before speaking. “How do you do it?”
Akira frowns. “Do what?”
“Lie. Or not… lie, but… what you did. What you do. You let so much go – the things people say about you, the way they think of you. You let them think it, and you use it to your advantage. Perhaps I’m simply… jealous.”
He bites down an instinct to insist that there’s nothing about his life worth being jealous of, because that isn’t true anymore, it’s just a habit. Instead, he tries to think of an answer.
“I… don’t really know, to be honest with you. I’ve been doing it for long enough… I don’t know. Maybe it’s just my nature.”
Yusuke laughs quietly and sadly. “Maybe. But there’s little to borrow from that.”
He scowls, biting his lip like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. “Why would you want to borrow that from me, anyway?”
He sighs, looks at the ceiling and draws his hand back from Akira’s. “It’s… do you remember what you said earlier? About how it’s letting you stay here – letting you win? I wonder if I might win a little more often if I just… stopped picking fights.”
Akira scowls. “I like that you’re a fighter.”
“I do too. But I’m… tired, Akira.”
His scowl deepens, and his hands curl into fists before he can stop it. “I’m sorry.”
Yusuke takes a moment to speak. “Senior year has been… hard. My advisors have been setting up meetings for me to get to know artists and visit their programs. Everyone in the Japanese art world knows who I am. Who I’m… related to, by extension. They pretend not to, but they’re poor actors. I know that it influences the way they see my work, and the way they see me. I try to be professional, but every time his name comes up, even by omission, even when all they do is tell me that they see a sense of struggle in my piece – I can’t swallow my anger. Even when I manage not to snap, I’m terse enough afterwards that it doesn’t leave a very good impression.”
His heart feels like it’s bouncing around his chest as he listens, love and sadness and pride mixing together unpleasantly so he’s not sure what to say. He settles for a question.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Honestly, I just wanted a break. It was on my mind every moment I wasn’t with you, I didn’t want it to be on my mind every moment. But at the moment, I think I’d prize your advice higher than your comfort.”
Akira reaches out for his hand again and he lets him take it. “I don’t know, Yusuke. What can I tell you that you don’t already know? It’s not as easy as just… deciding whether or not you like the label someone gives you. I don’t like the things people say about me, but it doesn’t stop them saying them. The only way I’ve made it this far is by owning whatever I can. Even when it’s pity.”
Yusuke sighs. “I know. And it would be easier – not easy, but easier – to accept if it was just personal. I am… well aware that the broad strokes of my story paint me like a victim. I’m also aware that there’s truth to that. But I wish they’d leave my work out of it. I am willing to paint struggle, but I am not willing to let it color my entire catalog.”
Akira smiles sadly and squeezes his hand. “You’ve shown your art to other people before, though. And they didn’t see it that way. Not everyone will see it that way, not forever.” He blushes. “I don’t see it that way.”
Yusuke blushes too, and breaks his grip to reach over and ruffle his hair. “No, but you don’t know anything about art. Despite my best attempts.”
He laughs, trying to smooth down his unsmoothable curls, feeling intensely relieved to hear Yusuke joking around. “Yeah, I don’t. But I do know you, and I know you’re good. It’s just going to take time, hon. I’m sorry it sucks in the meantime, but it won’t last. Eventually, you’ll meet people who don’t have the faintest idea who you are. And they might see your art – they might see you differently. And it’ll be good.”
Yusuke looks at him fondly, a knowing sparkle in his eyes. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
Yusuke sighs, resting his head on his shoulder. Akira feels his heart thump, and he wraps an arm around him. The subway air is cool, and he takes a deep breath, the stale underground scent filling him with the energy sapped by long hours at court.
“I’ll look forward to it, then.”