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Littles look out for each other because no one else will.
It’s something that Akira has only learned in recent months, but now that he knows as much, he’s taken it to heart.
He’s helping Sojiro at Leblanc when his phone pings, but they both know he’d drop everything if one of his friends needed him.
I’m sorry to bother everyone, but is anyone available for today? Haru asks. I’m feeling rather small and would appreciate some company.
But before Akira can type out a reply, two people beat him to it.
I’m free, Makoto writes.
As am I, Yusuke adds. I could use the company as well.
It’ll be a playdate! Haru replies. I can show you my playroom!
That sounds lovely, Haru! Makoto answers. Even in text, it’s apparent she’s using her babysitter voice. Where would you like to meet up?
Akira’s thumbs hover over the screen. They don’t need him, but he’s ready to join them anyway. However, before he can follow through, he thinks twice about it. If Makoto is the acting babysitter, they won’t need him around, and having a toddler around would just be more work.
Sojiro eyes him. “Is everything alright?”
Akira nods. “The others have it taken care of.” He tries not to sound disappointed about that.
He knows his friends can take care of themselves, and they’ve created a damn good support system for when they can’t, but he likes feeling useful. Even if he’s the youngest, he goes into his headspace the least and that makes him the most dependable. And if he’s being completely honest, he’ll really only go into headspace if he’s around the others to begin with. They’re the only people in years he’s trusted with that part of himself.
“Quite the assortment of friends you have,” Akechi muses.
Akira nods, stowing his phone back in his pants pocket. As much as he’d like to help—and Sojiro really does understand—it’s taken care of for the time being and he still has work to do.
“Two of the biggest cases of Little abuse in the Kamoshida case, the unattended Little of disgraced painter Madarame, the Little under famed prosecutor Sae Niijima’s care, a Little shut-in with technical prowess, the Little heiress to Okumura foods…” Akechi pauses. “And you, the Little with a criminal record.”
Akira tries not to flinch at the overuse of the word Little. Nothing ever good comes from someone asserting classifications so strongly. “What are you getting at?”
“The Phantom Thieves sure target perpetrators of Little abuse, don’t they?”
“If a person is willing to exploit others for power or money, they won’t feel bad about hurting Littles either.” He doesn’t have to lie about that. Sure, Little abuse is always a concern when picking out targets, but their targets more often than not have done something else to get on the Phantom Thieves’ radar.
“Very true. And I guess it’s no surprise Littles would flock together against the scary outside world.” Akechi chuckles, but Akira doesn’t join him in his laughter.
He doesn’t mean to be so negative, but there’s only so much joking at his expense he can take. As if he doesn’t get a fair share from school every day. He gets it. The idea of a Little with a criminal record is a gold mine for jokes. Like, what did he do—rob a Build-a-Bear?
They’re not respected or listened to, allowed to fall to the fringes of society. The reason Littles flock together is because they’re the only ones that respect one another.
Ann is the token “cute Little” in her modeling job. Even before then, Kamoshida made sure no one took her seriously, first by marking her as his and then by spreading rumors of her being an emotional, bratty Little who told lies for fun. He did everything he could to make sure no one would ever believe her if she tried to speak out against him.
The only reason Ryuji was allowed on the track team in the first place was because of his skill, and his subsequent “tantrum” against Kamoshida was only used as evidence that Littles shouldn’t be allowed to join the team. Even with the track team reinstated, they’re still leery about letting Littles join.
Yusuke was financially dependent on Madarame, and even if he had spoken out, no one would have believed him. He’d have been lucky to receive indulgent laughter and get tugged away by the ear for “telling stories” about his sensei.
Makoto is constantly brushed off by her sister, deemed as useless in most situations, and most people believe she was given the student council president position just because she’s a Little and it looks good for the school.
Futaba especially was let down by the people who were supposed to be protecting her, being blamed for her mother’s death and then forced to live with an uncle woefully unprepared to be a caregiver. But even “one of the worst cases of Little neglect Sojiro’s ever seen” couldn’t hold up in court.
While Haru may have the appearance of power, so little of it is actually hers. Especially with her father’s death so near, and the question of an official caregiver still in the air, much of her future remains uncertain, especially with her arranged marriage still looming.
But Akechi couldn’t know about any of that. He’s a baseline. What would he know about what Littles go through? “Would you like to hear my working theory about the Phantom Thieves?”
Akira has learned some time ago that no matter what his answer, Akechi is going to continue regardless, so he simply nods. Sojiro excuses himself to smoke, and Akira can’t blame him. With all the buzz around the Phantom Thieves, he’d get sick of hearing about it too. In fact, he is sick of hearing about it.
“I think the Phantom Thieves are Littles as well.”
Akira stops drying the mug in his hands. It’s a test, he knows. Akechi is prodding him to see when he’ll break.
Akira keeps his face neutral. There’s a reason so few people can clock him as a Little, that it took Kamoshida’s rumors to get that information to the student body. “Really?”
“Well, looking at it, it rather makes sense, don’t you think? Littles are by and large disrespected by society. While Little abuse is a serious crime, people hardly believe Littles’ claims that such abuse is happening unless the abusers implicate themselves somehow. And isn’t that just a perfect match for a group of children wanting to enact their own twisted version of justice?”
“You still think they’re criminals.”
“And you still think they’re justice itself,” Akechi counters. “Though I do find your childish idealism admirable, I find I just can’t agree.”
Akira nods once before returning to his work. Realizing the conversation isn’t going to go any further, Akechi entertains himself by reading.
Next time his phone pings, it’s a message from Futaba.
Hey, hey! Can Kira come pick me up? I’m in Akihabara!
Akira furrows his brow. When did she go to Akihabara? Regardless, she asked for him, so he has to be the one to go get here. He undoes his apron, meeting Sojiro on his way out.
“Hey, where’s the fire?”
“No fire. Futaba needs as escort home—if that’s okay.” Akira’s gaze turns apologetic. He’s sure it can get tedious for Sojiro, having to watch Akira drop everything at a moment’s notice for one of his friends.
But Sojiro only meets him with concern. “She’s not hurt or anything, is she?”
“I don’t think so. She just needs someone to pick her up.”
Sojiro looks him over, as if sizing him up. He usually gives Akira that look when he’s trying to sniff out a lie, but after a moment, he simply nods. “Go on, and make sure she gets home alright.”
Akira gives a single nod. “Yes, sir.”
“Kiiiira!”
Akira is barely three steps onto the main street of Akihabara before he’s being tackled from behind.
Futaba grins at him, very clearly regressed. Over her shoulder, Ryuji cuts through the crowd. She must have really raced over when she saw him, for her to be that far ahead of Ryuji.
“You seem happy,” Akira says, but that’s always true for her when she regresses. Maybe it’s just the safety of being around people she trusts, but when Futaba drops, she’s all smiles and giggles and games.
“Ryu took me to the stores!” she cheers.
Ryuji rubs at the back of his neck. “She wanted to see the newest game releases and the cartoons they had playin’ made her drop. We were thinkin’ about gettin’ a couple movies if you wanted to join.”
“Sure.” Even if he wanted to say no, he can’t when Futaba’s giving him that face.
They flank her on either side as they board the train, making sure that no one has the chance to accidentally bump into her. While she’s happy now, all it takes is one negative social interaction to completely ruin her mood. Therefore, the best thing for Futaba is getting her out of crowded spaces as soon as possible.
“Akechi was asking about the Phantom Thieves,” Akira says. He’s not sure why he just blurts that out, but it doesn’t feel like something he can carry around himself for much longer, especially if Akechi insists on dropping by so often.
“Akechi’s always askin’ about the Phantom Thieves,” Ryuji retorts. But his eyes are soft as he continues, “He’s really gettin’ to you, huh?”
That was an understatement. After what happened with Haru’s dad, everything has shifted. More and more people despise the Phantom Thieves every day, and it feels like it’s only a matter of time before someone who has just enough information goes public. He tries not to worry about it, but it’s hard when it’s all people—Akechi included—want to talk about.
“When was the last time you even dropped, dude?”
Akira shrugs. Admittedly, it’s been a few weeks, but he’s not sure about the specifics. It’s hard to keep track of when the days start blurring together.
“Dude…” Ryuji lets the rest of that sentence hang. He won’t pretend to give Akira the spiel about how dangerous that could be. Akira knew firsthand after all. He went almost all of last year without regressing, just because there was no one he trusted enough to see him so vulnerable, and paid the price. Sick almost every other week, almost went to the hospital a few times, and even almost got social services involved without meaning to.
Of course, he doubted he’d get that bad again, but that didn’t stop any of his friends from worrying when they found out.
Futaba’s attention snaps up from her phone game. “Can I see baby Kira? Pleeeease?”
“When we’re home,” Akira says simply.
Futaba pouts up at him. “Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
Futaba presses her lips into a thin line, her face drawn in determination as she lifts her hand, a single pinkie stuck in Akira’s direction.
Akira silently hooks his pinkie around Futaba’s. A pinkie promise is sacred between them, so the gesture alone is enough to put her at ease.
Futaba demands a piggyback ride on their way back from the station, so the first thing Akira does when they get home is sprawl on the couch trying to rest his aching back. Futaba tries to make up for that by giving him apology cuddles, but those only last until she hears the from door open.
“Dad!” She zips around the corner, her feet pounding against the carpeted flooring.
“Futaba!” Sojiro cries. There’s a clatter and a bang, punctuated with Futaba’s giggles. “Futaba, I missed you too, but you can’t just expect me to catch you every time.” Still, Sojiro walks into the living room with Futaba on his hip, carrying her like she weighs nothing.
“Dad, Baby Kira’s gonna watch a movie with me!” Futaba points him out, grinning like he’s not an absolute chore to take care of.
“Sorry,” Akira mumbles out, shrinking back under Sojiro’s gaze.
When he first arrived in Yongen, he’d thought he’d never regress in front of Sojiro, keeping his reputation of the quiet, low-maintenance Little intact. After all, Sojiro was the one who said outright that he wasn’t going to waste his time caring for a delinquent Little.
“Hey, I had a feeling it was going to happen,” Sojiro answers. His gaze is fond, but Akira still can’t help feeling guilty. “I need to head back to the café and close up. You need anything?”
“No, thank you.” As much as he wants one of his comfort objects, he still can’t ask someone else to get them for him.
Sojiro nods to Ryuji. “What about you?”
Ryuji shakes his head. “I had a headspace day yesterday with my mom. I’m good to babysit.”
Sojiro nods, clearly pleased with that answer. He especially doesn’t like it when any of them go too long without headspace days. For someone who pretends not to care, he really does fuss a lot. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge. I know the appetites these two can have.”
“Ooh, bring cookies!” Futaba calls after him. Based on the sheer volume of cookie brands already in the kitchen, it’s unlikely he’ll deliver.
Cookies do sound good though. Akira hasn’t had much to eat today—he always forgets when he’s close to dropping—but he wonders if Ryu will still let him have some.
But before he can ask, Futaba dashes out of the room and returns with a package of cookies.
“Hey, didn’t you skip lunch?” Ryuji asks.
“Yeah, but Kira needs cookie solidarity!”
“Taba…” Ryuji warns. He’s the most easygoing babysitter, but when he puts his foot down, he means business.
Futaba knows better than to argue. “Just two then? One for me and one for Kira?” She grabs Akira’s face, smushing his cheeks in an attempt to make him look as cute as possible. “Look at this face!”
“Fine. But only two.”
Futaba giggles victoriously. “We had a feeling you’d need some love,” Futaba says. She produces a pair of cookies for the two of them. “We saw you were typing in the group chat for a while when Haru asked.”
Akira’s eyes go wide. They really noticed that?
“Of course we noticed!” Ryuji says. It’s one of his special powers that he’s able to pick up on the younger Littles’ nonverbal cues. Akira thinks it’s because he tends to go nonverbal when he’s really sad, but that happens so rarely that no one else has really noticed. “We gotta look out for each other. You especially.”
“Mm-hm!” Futaba chirps. She already has cookie crumbs all over her face. “Even if it takes a little scheming at times!”
Akira takes a breath, a weight he didn’t even know was there easing off his chest. He nibbles on the edge of his cookie, feeling the soft fuzzy calm of headspace wrap around him like a warm, heavy blanket.
Littles look out for each other.
And that was that.