Chapter Text
In truth, Akira had wished in some fucked up way that Maruki would’ve just killed him, or at least let him sleep for the rest of his miserable life.
Instead, after failing to clear His palace, Maruki removed him from his confidants collective memory.
Akira could remember the looks Sojiro, Futaba, Wakaba and Morgana had given him when he had descended the stairs February 3rd. It had been around one in the afternoon when he came downstairs, awoken by the loud nature of the newfound family.
A look of fear spread through each and everyone of them as the noise died down and all attention had been focused towards him.
He had shot them all a sympathetic smile, apologizing for sleeping in, only for the family to erupt in varying amounts of panic.
It hadn’t even been an hour and he’d been thrown out onto the streets with a “if you trespass again, I won’t hesitate to call the cops.”
Akira shuttered at the thought, turning over.
After that, he had tried to contact each and everyone of his friends, only to be met with either a block, “wrong number” or “who is this?”
Akira turned again, eyes locking onto the few gifts he’d managed to save from Sojiros freak out and throwing all of Akiras belongings out onto the street with him, the moonlight dancing through his bedroom blinds across the souvenirs from his lost friends.
Akira could feel the heavy weight of tears drop onto his pillow.
He was shocked when he returned to Inaba, eyes sunken in from pure exhaustion from the previous twenty four hours. His parents had given him a cold look, telling him they had planned to pick him up from the court house later.
Oh. Of course. Maruki had to fix his year long gap from being home. Of course being in Juvenile detention would be the best bullshit example.
Akira was fairly sure Juvenile detention sentences didn’t last a year, but he wasn’t going to argue logistics.
He had given his parents a sorrowful nod, heading up the stairs to his dust ridden room.
Which brought him back to the present.
The pillow below his head was stained with his tears and he sobbed pitifully.
Everything he’d done had been for nothing.
Instinctively, Akira reached for his phone, the time reading ‘4:07 AM’ in bright white letters, no messages from any of his former friends, let alone confidants.
Setting his phone back down, Akira sat up, forcing himself to stifle any furthering sobs.
What was the point of crying anyways. It had been his fault in the end, spending the little time he had with his friends the past few weeks instead of focusing more intently on Marukis palace. Though he had never anticipated this sort of reaction from Maruki if they had failed.
He couldn’t help the loud sob that erupted, canting his legs up so he could bury his face into his tented comforter to muffle his sob.
In the end it was his fault .
He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.
Akira let himself sob and wallow in himself, before dragging himself out of bed, feeling as though hours had pushed by. In reality, twenty or so minutes had truly slipped between his shaking form.
On shaky legs, Akira found himself in his dusty bathroom, giving a weak cry at the emptied medicine cabinet he’d been sure was stocked when he’d left last year.
Not even his feeble suicide attempt was going to happen.
Returning back to his bed, he slumped into the old mattress, letting it swallow him whole.
What was the point?
What was the point?
Akira no longer had a reason left to live.
All former bonds had been broken. Not even his parents wanted him around anymore.
He had no reason to be here, and yet he couldn’t do a single thing, in this moment, to snuff his own light out.
All he could do was stare at an empty ceiling devoid of anything besides the moon's sweet light, mocking him in a sense, and let himself fall further into his old mattress.
‘It’s only a matter of time before my body just shuts down and gives into the inevitable’
The bitterness lacking heavily from his thoughts, hands scrubbing painfully over his face to hide his sadness from no one other than himself.
‘ It would’ve been more humane for Maruki to just come by and kill me himself.’
He didn’t understand anything. Maruki had told him explicitly that he just wanted everyone to live their best lives, and yet here he was, living his absolute worst, spending the last few days in his room sulking with his parents paying little to no mind to him, only shouldering cold looks when Akira would emerge from his room.
He shuttered at a twinge of sadness building in his gut as more tears fell.
Everything hurt, and he knew it would continue to hurt. And yet there wasn’t a thing he could do.