Chapter Text
Strange dreams were not a new thing to him as of late. The struggle of enrolling in university coupled with irregular working hours and tutoring had obviously taken his mind to odd places as he slept. Stress, perhaps, but nothing more than that, unfortunately.
Finding the perfect balance between the upkeep of his social life with the demands of his education and the looming deadline of rent had resulted in a level of mediocrity he couldn't have anticipated during his time as a Phantom Thief—a change that odd dreams could not hope to hold a candle to.
It was always something new back then—something far more exciting than meeting up with Futaba and Kasumi every other day to assist them with English and Social Studies. Hunting around in the darkness of corrupt hearts in the pursuit of justice brought him more satisfaction than prying himself up at 6 AM every day so he could cycle to his train station and board along with the rest of the herd of salarymen he was determined not to be indoctrinated into.
Stealing hearts proved itself far more exhilarating than his university library job ever could.
And yet he found himself dreaming more nowadays than he did back then. Perhaps because he was bored with life. Perhaps because he fell into such a routine that dreams were his only outlet for some sense of adventure. A useless sentiment that was gone as quickly as it came. That’s what his life had become…dependent on the small rush of adrenaline he felt when waking only to hardly remember what had caused the sensation when his alarm blared in his ear like it did yesterday and every day before.
Dreams that dug themselves into his memory as he pulled himself out of bed to go make himself a cup of coffee and begin getting ready for the day. By the time he brushed his teeth, their grip had left him completely. He wouldn’t have known if he was swimming against a raging current, or if he was some hero dressed in white with a flowing cape, standing proud and tall against those who did wrong. Or if he was once again a scientist vowing to make the world a better place.
Even those dreams that still left some imprint on him weren’t anything special and didn’t deserve the effort to attempt to decipher them. Everything else was just like his day to day life—equally forgettable, equally unremarkable.
Nothing could compare to the good old days of just two years ago. They felt like a blur, those memories of those times that somehow fell just beyond his reach. They were vivid enough that he wished he could visit them in his useless dreams sometimes...maybe he'd recapture some of the energy that propelled him forward in his justice.
Maybe he'd look forward to falling asleep every night if he could get a taste of leading the Phantom Thieves again.
But it never happened. So there was no point in dwelling on it. No sense wishing for it.
For now, he sunk back into the mundane, into his routine.
He got dressed, biting back a yawn as he checked his watch. He had just enough time to cook an egg, toast a piece of bread and down his coffee. And, just as the day before, he did so. He hardly remembered cracking the egg or even shoveling his breakfast into his mouth. Barely awake still, he brushed the crumbs off his face and grabbed his bag.
The train was crowded like it was every day. It barely registered to him anymore when warm bodies pressed against him as he shoved further and further back into the train car. It was the usual amount of commuters; he had gotten used to it.
Music on his phone kept him distracted enough. He had been very fond of bossa nova for the last few years, and it was reflected in his collection. He flicked through a few of his regular playlists before settling on one of his favorites. He would get off at his stop in 55 minutes on the dot, precisely when the string of music stopped. In the meantime, he flicked through his normal news app and checked the calendar as the strum of bass synchronized with the rumble of the train under his feet. His eyes glazed over as he stared at his schedule out of habit. Nothing new, nothing different than any of the weeks previous.
He had two classes in the morning, then he had to meet up with Maruki around 3 before going back to school and closing up the library. Then he would, undoubtedly, go to 777 and buy whatever cheap ready-made meal he could find. He sighed, wondering if he would have enough time to at least prepare lunch for tomorrow and firmly pushed his way out of the train car just as his music went silent.
He bit back a yawn several times in class as the professor spoke. He idly typed his notes, disinterest slowing his fingers to a crawl. He wondered just how much biology was going to actually help him in his career path—whatever that was—and couldn’t help but feel a bit cheated that he had to pay for this kind of thing out of his own pocket.
Normal feelings, he supposed, but ones that he never actually anticipated he would experience in his lifetime.
How much longer until his life got interesting again? How was this his normality now? Even though it had been two years already, he was curious as to why he craved something more than this.
It should have been enough. It should have made him happy to have a calm and relatively uneventful life.
And yet…he wasn’t satisfied. It was stifling, this life he had chosen to lead. It made him uneasy, like he was floating above himself and looking down at the world around him like it was some land he didn’t speak the language of. The language of ordinary.
Sometimes it was easy to shake that feeling when he was seeing Ryuji or Ann, or when he met up with Makoto between classes. But lately, he found it was getting more difficult to reach out. They had all been doing so well in their own lives, he hadn’t felt it fair to bring up his restlessness to them.
Distracted by the thoughts numbing his mind, he found himself staring outside. Luckily, he always managed to occupy a seat by the largest window in the lecture hall. He quietly took off his glasses, disappointed that he didn’t have time to put in his contacts this morning, and leaned back in his chair to gaze at the familiar scenery outside.
The sky was littered with dark and angry storm clouds that darted across the sun, casting obscure shadows around the world below him. They swirled like the ocean, metal cars and buildings glittering in a vain attempt made by the light to break through the overcast barrier.
He cursed under his breath for forgetting his umbrella and hoped the storm would at least hold off until he was back at college for his shift.
So occupied was he with his own bad luck that he hardly realized it when his phone vibrated against his leg. He peeked at the screen and let out a soft sigh. Makoto must have tapped his brain or something: she wanted to see him after his class let out. He stared at the question for a while before answering ‘okay’ and sliding his phone back in his pocket.
The minutes crawled by at a snail’s pace until he blinked and suddenly the students around him began packing up their things. Had it really been two hours already? Finally? He wasn’t sure anymore. The minutes flew by so quickly and yet so slowly. The tingle in his legs told him it must have been true though. He hastily shut his computer and shoved it in his bag. Despite his legs feeling numb, he was far more eager to leave than he realized because he was the first student out.
It didn’t take long to find Makoto; she knew what his classes were, and she was already waiting for him outside the room. He smiled despite himself, grateful for the distraction from his own relentless unrest, and still felt a pang of guilt that he should have been the one to reach out to her first.
“Hey, that was fast,” she remarked, checking her watch and smiling at him in turn. “Let you out early?”
“No, I was bored out of my mind. I was ready to leave,” he said, shifting his bag to be more comfortable on his shoulders. “You’d think the process of how life works on a microscopic level would be interesting to me, but I find it frightfully dull.”
She laughed and gave a slim shrug before tucking her short brown hair behind her ears. “A lot of things that could be interesting are dull though. Ask me why on earth I took art history and French literature this semester of all things.”
“Probably to actually understand what Yusuke is talking about half the time…and, as for literature—to impress Haru?” he teased and watched her now exposed ears turn slightly pink.
“H-hey! Here I was going to offer you part of my lunch, but now I don’t think I will anymore.”
He laughed lightly and shook his head. “Hit the nail on the head, I presume? Well, I’m not taking biology to entice someone. That’s a far more noble reason than ‘because the school demands it’, you know.” He mused, but his stomach growled in response to her threat.
She decided to focus on that instead of his quip, much to his dismay. “Did you not eat this morning?”
“I did—”
“You better have,” she threatened in her most mothering tone.
He rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses back. “I told you I did. I don’t need to be lectured on eating well from both you and Kasumi, Makoto.”
“It’s because you work yourself too hard and you know it.”
Her unfounded admiration and concern was already beginning to irritate him.
“Let’s discuss more interesting things than my eating patterns, please, like your displeasure with taking French lit to try to woo Haru? That’s a far cry more fascinating,” he said, steering the conversation as they sat together.
“You’re insufferable.”
She shared her lunch with him anyway, and he quietly listened to her talking about the frustrations of the books they were required to read as he picked at her rice.
Makoto was a smart girl, quick on the uptake on most matters printed in books, so it was humorous to him to see her have such a hard time with a certain subject…not that he’d ever point it out to her in such a blunt way. The way her eyebrows furrowed under her bangs in aggravation, and the strain in her voice because she chose to take a subject she had no experience with in hopes of impressing a friend who was already noticeably interested in her in the same way, tickled him to no end.
“Have you thought of borrowing the book in Japanese and using it as a way to familiarize yourself with the text?” he asked, willing himself to steal a piece of pork from her bento.
“Of course I have, but the library doesn’t have it right now and it’s hard to track down.” She let out a deep sigh and slumped forward. “I don’t know why our professor has to be so interested in detective literature of all things. If it could have been classic books, that would have been one thing, but I hunted around and found nothing.”
He raised an eyebrow and pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. Maybe he could help her out.
“Wait, are you reading Arséne Lupin?”
“Yes, laugh it up. Isn’t it terribly ironic?”
“Very,” he mused, thinking about the spread of his Persona’s dark, feathery wings. He wondered if that was the reason why he gained such a form as his way of rebellion—more for his love of detective books than his actual situation. In ways, their Personas really did reflect a crystal clear image of who they all were as people.
However, a man with a thousand faces who rocked the foundation of France? Sure, the Phantom Thieves called into questioning society as a whole, but it wasn’t his own efforts that did it. He was never accused of some crime other than being born. Lupin was a thief who stole so his own means could be justified.
But he sought justice as revenge. They were similar, but not exactly in line with the morality of their situations. It was as if his reflection of himself was hazy when he gazed into the past. He never had a rival before, never had to outsmart a worthy opponent. He never crossed paths with anyone who threatened his justice other than the very person he helped put behind bars.
So he hardly felt the connection between himself and Arséne. He never found his Inspector Ganimard nor even his Sherlock Holmes. He just had himself, his friends, the person he wanted to destroy more than anyone else and—
And…?
Something nagged at him, clawing for his attention.
Makoto’s talking fell to silence and he wondered just how long he’d probably been staring at her like this. The wave of her fingers forced his eyes back on her.
“Sorry.” He sat up straight and cleared his throat. “What were we talking about?”
She frowned at him and crossed her arms before leaning on the table to stare him down. He felt himself back up a bit.
“The books. I was asking if you had them.” Suspicion was heavy in her words as she regarded him. He let out a nervous laugh.
“I’ll bring them Friday.”
“You’re so reliable, thank you.” She left out a deep sigh of gratitude. “I’ll walk you to class; let me get you some coffee on the way, hm?”
He wasn’t going to say no. They got up and he finally let a yawn out before stretching his legs. They said their goodbyes as he walked up to his next class, and he only turned back when she called his name.
He blinked and looked over to her. “Yes?”
She stared at him for a moment and shook her head. “Ah, nothing.” He watched her scramble to change the subject. “Let’s go to the gym next weekend with Ryuji? I feel like the rainy season is going to make me want to slack on my training.”
He frowned at her and thought about it for a moment. “I’ll try. I may have to work.”
Disappointment graced her lips, but she nodded regardless. “Just let me know! Sae and dad are going to be out next weekend, so you can borrow one of their entry cards to get into our apartment’s gym. Ryuji would be happy to see you.”
A pang of guilt hit him in the stomach, but he forced a smile and promised he’d try before he watched her leave. In her place was the same detached feeling he had been experiencing before he met up with her. Everything was just a temporary distraction from reality, after all.
“Do you really feel that way?”
He blinked, Maruki’s voice bringing him back to the tidy medical office the therapist had occupied for years. He let out a loud sigh and crossed his legs, keeping himself as upright and alert as possible now that his attention had been regained.
“I suppose so. Listless may be a good word to use. Drifting?” His gaze narrowed on the man as he watched him scribble something down on his clipboard. He knew it was simply a chart of his current feelings since the therapist seemed to think he suffered from some chronic depression and possibly a mood disorder. But he, himself, was finding ways to cope with that. Most of his solutions didn’t involve relying on Maruki’s attentiveness. Though, truthfully, maybe therapy was doing some good for him. He found himself focusing more on the future than the past, so he supposed that was a start.
“You seem to be having these kinds of episodes more frequently.”
“Is that so?”
“Have you not noticed that? I find that hard to believe.”
He refused to grit his teeth, but felt the flash of tension reached down his neck like he had. Maybe he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself. Maybe it just wasn’t an option for him to deal with it yet, so it was easier to just brush it off.
“With all due respect, I have a lot going on normally. It’s hard to keep track day-to-day.” He watched the man’s mouth open and decisively cut him off. “And it’s difficult to remember to write how I’m feeling every single day as well.”
“Ah, I thought you might have forgotten about the journal I asked you to do.”
“Hm, I hadn’t. I’m just not used to writing in journals all the time, you know.”
“That’s the problem, though. You’ve talked to me several times about feeling apprehensive and distant from those around you. Keeping a journal would be a very good tool to document what could put you into these downward swings.”
He hummed in response, finding an off-center tack on Maruki’s wall to stare at rather than the therapist himself. It wasn’t that he was uninterested in helping himself…he just didn’t feel comfortable being vulnerable around this man. He didn’t know exactly why: it was some strange feeling in his gut that he couldn’t quite name. But he trusted his gut more than anything else.
Maybe it wasn’t even Maruki himself; it was everyone. He didn’t feel comforted in letting anyone get that close to him.
Considering the last time he got close to someone…
The thought escaped him, a train derailed when he realized Maruki was staring at him.
The light that glinted off of his glasses gave him an air of mystery…one that made him shudder once he realized the intensity with which he was observing him—waiting for an answer.
However, he didn’t have one. Not really.
“I’m trying not to focus on it as much,” he finally said, sinking back in his chair and further away from Maruki’s piercing stare.
“But perhaps something is triggering it.” When Maruki’s gaze shifted away from him, relief washed over him. “If you don’t want to write a journal, perhaps you can record yourself in a voice memo on your phone? It would take less time than formally writing something. Since you’re so busy, of course.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and thought for a moment about it. It would be easier and maybe save him from the awkwardness of these weekly meetings that Maruki insisted would help him. It could work.
“I could try it, I suppose.”
He watched as Maruki’s face lit up in a smile and wondered why he ever felt any amount of discomfort talking to him. It was obvious he was trying to help him overcome some of the difficulties of integrating back into society after the Phantom Thieves disbanded. This person was just trying to help him as a confidant and a professional. It made him feel a bit guilty to watch Maruki smile so proudly at him as if he had just made a major breakthrough.
“Excellent. I believe that will take a lot of questioning out of these sessions and get to some of the core of the matters that are affecting you. I think taking this matter seriously is going to help. Oh,” he looked down at his watch as it beeped at him. “Time’s up, I’m afraid.”
He let out a slow and steady breath of air before standing up.
“Thank you for your time.”
“It’s what I’m here for. I’m glad to know that you’re open to the idea.”
He kept quiet about how he honestly felt it would accomplish nothing. He settled on biting the inside of his lip instead of voicing his doubts. It was always so strange, coming to this place. His eyes drifted around Maruki's room, noting how it hadn't changed since the first time he had set foot in there a few years back. Hell, he never attended this school, and yet, Maruki opened his doors to him.
And now, even a year after graduating from a completely different high school, he found himself back at Shujin in the care of this man for the sole reason of managing his mental fatigue and stress.
"Akechi?"
It was only then that he realized Maruki had been staring at him for a few seconds or so. "Hm?" He had been staring out the window at the storm clouds creeping by in the sky.
"I said it looks like it's going to rain soon. Do you have an umbrella?"
"I forgot it this morning, actually," he chuckled and shrugged. "I'll be fine though. I have to go to work now." He watched the therapist walk towards a corner of the room and rustle around in a standing closet for a moment. He saw a thin, blue umbrella being pulled out of what looked like a disorganized assortment of umbrellas.
He tilted his head in amusement as several different handles began toppling out of the closet. He hid his smirk behind his gloved hand as Maruki attempted to catch them and push them back where they belonged.
"Ah, sorry about that."
"Why do you have so many?"
Maruki laughed gently and managed to close the latch on the door to keep the avalanche of umbrellas from attacking him.
"It seems I'm committed to being the school’s lost and found these days. Students will leave things all over the place and not collect them for days. It became a walking hazard, so I just started picking them up and keeping them there." He dramatically wiped non-existent sweat off his brow. "Here, you can have this."
He placed the long, thin umbrella in Goro's hands and gave him a reassuring smile. A weak smile stretched on his lips as he curled his fingers around it.
"I'll bring it back to you next time."
"Don't worry about it. It hasn't been claimed since last year."
No doubt the owner wasn't even around anymore. Even still, it felt odd to take someone else's physical belongings like this. “Are you sure?”
"I insist . You don't want to get sick, after all." Maruki's voice dropped to a concerned crawl that made him shudder. His grip tightened around the umbrella, and his trusted gut was telling him to just accept the sudden gift.
He swallowed hard and pushed up his glasses to focus his attention elsewhere before quietly agreeing to take it.
He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and give him a reassuring squeeze. The flash of seriousness that had washed over Maruki ebbed as quickly as it came, and soon Goro was being ushered out the door with all the usual cheerfulness that the therapist exuded.
Goro waved goodbye and turned towards the entrance of the school, thinking about how odd it was that the mood shifted so dramatically. Maybe he was thinking about it a little too much. One step outside told him that he was right to take the umbrella. He scowled and opened it before any more rain fell on him. The drops of water laughed as they splattered onto the umbrella above him.
"It's so annoying, right?"
His head snapped up as he was addressed. His co-worker was drumming her fingers on the counter and biting back a yawn.
"What do you mean?"
"No one is here. Why do we even gotta be here?”
"Because we get paid hourly."
He wasn't one to complain about work, though. He was very particular about his lifestyle, and working was essential to...probably far too much of his self-worth. She was right though: the library was absolutely dead silent. Even for a library. They had a few soggy students come in throughout the evening but they had all left by the time there was only an hour left in his shift. Now it was just a matter of re-shelving books and closing out computers. All of that would take five minutes, tops, and it seemed like neither of them wanted to jumpstart it.
But he was getting tired of her constantly sighing. He could hear her over the music humming in his ears. However, soon he could hear nothing but the gentle rhythm of the train on the tracks and the soft beats of snare drums and bass in his ears. The day felt like a blur. But again, that felt like the day before and the day before that. Every day was like this, and Goro didn’t know when anything would ever change.
And yet again he mindlessly cycled home, fortunate that the rain had let up enough to get home quickly. Nevertheless it left him a bit soggy, and he stumbled up his stairs and sighed with relief when he was finally back in his apartment. He slipped off his shoes and set his things down in their appropriate places, just as he always did, before he showered off and ran a hot bath.
As the water filled in his tub, he found himself gazing outside his window where the rain began to fall heavily once more. He wrapped a robe around himself and wandered over to stare out at the darkened city and blurry lights.
His attention turned towards his phone and he begrudgingly sighed, picking it up and looking for a voice memo program. Might as well get this stupid thing out of the way, right? He tapped record and let out an irritated sigh.
“I don’t know what exactly I’m supposed to say. But today was just another day.” His finger lingered on the record button for a few more moments, unsure of what else he could even talk about. There was nothing to talk about. Rain pelted at his window in waves.
He had the strongest desire to just throw his patio door open and yell until his lungs gave out.
Goro tossed his phone onto his bed and abandoned his spot by the window to go back to his long awaited bath, but something took hold of him, rooting him down where he stood. It was as if every muscle in his legs had stiffened to the point that he couldn’t move them. Did he cycle harder than he thought? A gust of wind shook the window, laughing at him. A chill ran down his spine and he decided to close his shades. Whatever sensation that had left him frozen lifted like a weight off his body.
“The hell?” He crouched down, massaging his calves and stretched his legs. He must have cycled too hard.
But that didn’t account for the fleeting desire he had had to throw himself out into the raging storm that was howling outside. And it didn’t explain why he felt like someone was watching him intently. He shook his head and frowned before chalking it up to fatigue.
Little did he know that once he climbed into bed later, his dreams would no longer be the strangest parts of his days.