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1.
It starts with Ryuji, as everything seems to.
He’s sharing a loud story about their trip to the Palace today - “holy shit dude, did you see me deck that bastard with a Headbutt, it was so effin’ sweet.” Akira sets down some sort of hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles on the table in front of him, and Ryuji looks up to say, “Thanks, for real man, that looks so good-”
And Akira doesn’t reply with words, but with a kiss on the forehead.
It takes Ryuji a second to realise what’s happened, even as the words die in his mouth, and turns a bright shade of red when he does. “What the eff, man?!” he exclaims, looking up at Akira in surprise, which is-- a mistake.
Akira cocks his head to the side. “You didn’t like it?” he asks, eyes furrowed a little bit, looking… oh, fuck, he looks a little sad.
Ryuji sputters, turning yet another shade of red. “Well- I mean-” his brain struggles to find the words he wants, let alone to figure out the way he thinks he should feel about it, “that’s not… what I meant…” he finishes lamely.
Akira brightens, and his smile makes Ryuji’s chest constrict a little, fills him with a soft warmth that he’d never really noticed before but, if he pays attention to it, realises it feels a little familiar. “What’s the problem, then?”
And it’s that simple, apparently. The tightness in Ryuji’s chest deflates and he realises, oh, there’s no problem at all. Akira ruffles his hair, says “Tell me more about Captain KIdd’s sick headbutt,” and that’s all it takes to put them back on course.
Later in the evening, when it starts getting busier and Sojiro starts giving them a not-so-subtle evil look, Akira invites him upstairs.
A little more. A little longer. Not quite ready to say goodbye yet.
Ryuji accepts, of course, a little nervous and not sure what to expect. But Akira just invites him to sit on the futon with him, drags his old CRT television around, and puts a movie on.
They’re partway through watching some girl run from a terribly costumed ghost when he feels a little push on his shoulder, Akira nudging him to move a little. He moves without complaint, and it’s worth it when he ends up with an Akira tucked into his arm, his hair brushing his chin and getting a little in his mouth.
“You’ve got a lot of hair, dude,” is all Ryuji says in complaint.
Akira hums in response, and Ryuji swears he can see a cheeky little grin. “All the better to tickle you with,” he says without turning, and Ryuji can see his grin has blossomed into a happy smile.
It gets dark, as it often does. Ryuji nudges Akira a little, just enough so he can stand up and stretch. The credits are playing and, if he’s honest, he barely even noticed the movie, what with Akira so close to him, making him feel… warm, comfortable, soft, and-- Something else that Ryuji isn’t quite ready to face yet.
But he should go.
Right.
Right?
“I should go,” he says, looking like he would rather do anything but.
A little more. A little longer .
Akira stands up to see him off, but Ryuji still isn’t moving. As though sensing his hesitation, Akira reaches for his hand once more, and caresses his cheek with his other hand, takes a step closer.
“Is this ok?” Akira asks.
Ryuji nods.
Akira leans in closer, eyes still holding Ryuji’s, watching carefully for any sign of discomfort. “Is this ok?”
Ryuji swallows, and nods.
Akira leans in more, softly presses their lips together. Ryuji’s eyes slide closed, his hand lifting up to rest on Akira’s hip. His lips are- soft. A little chapped. Different from what he’d definitely never imagined.
When he opens his eyes again, Akira is still close. Still caressing his cheek. “Was that ok?” he asks, looking a little shy.
Ryuji nods again, a pink blush dusting his own cheeks. “Do it again?” he asks, his heart racing, and he swears his palms are getting sweaty but Akira doesn’t say anything about it.
Akira smiles, and kisses him again, and again, and as many times as Ryuji asks for. When he finally leaves, he finds he’s already looking forward to seeing him again tomorrow.
2.
Ann is sure it’ll take her a little while to properly warm up to them. And really, who could blame her? She’d just been through so much, and kicked a lot of ass while she was at it, but she was just… tired.
But Akira takes her out, and buys her a crepe, and listens to her talk about Shiho and their aspirations and what is she going to do now, and she doesn’t notice when he takes her hand and squeezes when she starts talking about how much she misses Shiho already and oh my god it's so selfish of her to just want things to back to how they were and--
“I don’t think you’re selfish,” he says.
It startles Ann out of her ramble, and she just blurts out, “huh?”
“About Shiho,” he clarifies. “About wishing it didn’t have to be this way.” Akira pauses, and seems to be thinking about his next words carefully. “It’s a hard thing to go through, and your feelings about it will probably be complicated for a while, so I get wishing it hadn’t happened.”
He stops walking, which tugs on their connected hands and brings Ann’s attention to it. A light blush dusts her cheeks. “I’m only glad I can be here to help you now,” he says, his eyes so sincere that Ann almost wants to look away, shy in a way she hasn’t felt in a very long time.
Instead, she keeps watching him. Akira holds eye contact and lifts her hand up and then stops, as though asking permission. When she nods, he kisses the inside of her wrist.
She laughs, delight bubbling in her chest, and reaches out with her other hand to pull him forward. They’re both smiling when their lips meet, as though saying finally, finally, finally--
Akira picks her up and swings her around, making another surprised laugh fall from her mouth and, unfortunately, making him drop the last dregs of his crepe. She kisses the top of his head, his forehead, bumps his glasses askew and kisses his cheeks and thinks about how good it feels to be in his arms.
Feels like she belongs.
Ryuji and Ann are sitting across from each other in Leblanc again, spending a rare quiet day just… enjoying each other's company. Ryuji catches Ann watching Akira flit between customers, effortlessly taking orders and making small talk. Her expression is glazed over with something very, intimately familiar.
"You too, huh?"
Ann startles, and blushes as he realised he's caught her staring. "Is that weird?" she asks.
Ryuji reaches his hand out tentatively - not demanding anything of her, but Ann recognizes it for what it is.
So, when Ann reaches back without hesitation, Ryuji brings her hand to his mouth and kisses along her knuckles. Just like him, she thinks. Always with the hands. Their relationship shifts and changes, just a little, but if they think about it- well, doesn’t this feel right?
Their hands are still clasped together when Akira takes a quick break and slides into the booth with them, next to Ann. He sighs, lays his head on her shoulder, and curls his arm around hers. Ryuji reaches over and pats the top of Akira’s head with his free hand, and he smiles.
And that’s all that needs to be said.
3.
Yusuke meets him halfway.
They're discussing his recent artworks. It's the first time he's put his brush to canvas since leaving Madarame's house ( his grip his bonds his prison--) and he just. Needs a little support. So.
Yusuke is explaining something about brush strokes, and canvas sizes, and not letting the paint dry before he paints the next stroke to symbolize his earlier recklessness and Akira listens, and learns, and leans in, and kisses him.
Yusuke pauses in his explanation just long enough to kiss him back, and goes straight back to talking. Akira huffs out a laugh, and kisses him again, to see if gets the same reaction.
And Yusuke just. Kisses him back, once again.
When Akira does it a third time, Yusuke frowns, as if he's just realised that something is Interrupting His Explanations, and that's Really Quite Rude. Yusuke looks away from his artwork, and turns to face Akira directly, only to find him inches from his face.
"Oh," Yusuke breathes out.
"Good 'oh' or bad 'oh?" Akira breathes back, lips so, so close.
Yusuke's hand reaches up to caress Akira's cheek, and oh, he's beautiful and oh, he's more than he could've ever hoped for and oh, how he's more sure of this than anything else.
Before he answers, Yusuke kisses him again, and hums to himself in thought. His hand moves down to rest against Akira's neck, warm and steady, and he presses their foreheads together. "Oh,” he says quietly, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Akira presses their foreheads together, closes his eyes, and says, “Good ‘oh’, then,” and kisses him again.
Yusuke doesn't think he'll ever get sick of Akira's kisses.
“I am in the midst of a dilemma,” Yusuke announces, by way of greeting.
Ryuji and Ann blink up from where they’d been huddled together just previously, arguing whose Persona was cooler and getting nowhere. “Oh?” Ann asks, making a mental note to come back to her point of how having debuff abilities automatically gives her a leg up.
Yusuke hums, and doesn’t say anything more for a few moments, simply looking at them both. “I find myself distracted by matters of the heart,” he eventually continues, then stops again, as though that explains everything.
Ryuji laughs, punches him lightly in the shoulder. “What’s the matter? Ann still caught you in her grips?” he jokes, which receives him his own punch from Ann.
Yusuke hums again, serious expression still on his face despite Ryuji’s poor attempt at humour. “While I won’t deny that’s part of it, the enormity of it is a bit more.” Here he pauses, looks down a little, his own blush threatening to take over his face. He decides to just say it, in the end. “Ann, you’ve caught me in your grips. As has Ryuji. As has our Leader. I understand if this makes you uncomfortable, I was just hoping that sharing my dilemma with you might make it a lighter burden to bear.”
Yusuke is too busy looking away, shy and unsure what to expect, that he doesn’t see the quick look Ryuji and Ann give each other. That’s all it takes, and next thing he knows, they’ve crowded him in their arms and are each kissing either of his cheeks.
To say he’s surprised is the least of it. He’d hardly thought- Couldn’t bear to imagine that this- Not in his wildest dreams-
“You two? Too?” Is all he manages to say, when his brain allows him a few words between his triumphant joy.
Ryuji laughs, turns his head to face him directly, and kisses his lips. “You’re late to the party, dude!”
Ann huffs and turns his face the other way, for her turn. “Don’t hog him, Ryuji!” she says, giving him her own kiss. “We’re so happy to have you,” she says with a smile.
And it feels… good. It feels right.
Akira jogs up to them a few minutes later. They’re sitting together at the usual spot, and Yusuke is pointing out people to them, describing the kinds of things he sees when he’s peoplewatching. Yusuke is also the first person to see him, and he opens his arms wide in greeting, exclaiming, “Akira!”
Akira drops his bag gently (doesn’t want Morgana to yell at him, after all) and falls into Yusuke’s waiting arms. Yusuke kisses his forehead, and Akira pushes himself up to claim his lips, forgetting to be embarrassed.
Ann kisses him next, then makes a face. “What have you been eating?!” she says, disgusted expression still plainly on her face, and as she pats the top of his head affectionately.
At this, Akira looks a little embarrassed. “Ah, the Aojiru juice was on sale, and I figured I might as well get some, since I’m meeting you all here today,” he says.
Ryuji looks at him, slack jawed, and somehow falls a little bit deeper. “Dude, you drank that? Are you okay?”
“Ah, yeah, it improves my guts.”
Yusuke nods like he understands, but Ryuji still has the same disgusted yet slightly impressed expression on his face. “I have absolutely no idea what that means, but I’m lucky I love you.”
And that’s it, really, isn’t it?
Aren’t they all lucky?
He must’ve done something good, once, to be allowed to have so much love in his life.
3.5.
Morgana is turning in place on Akira’s makeshift bed, trying to pat down a comfortable spot. He watches Akira get ready for bed, too, pulling on his old sweatshirt that looks comfortable but worn.
“Do you think I really have a place here?” he asks, a little quiet.
Akira stops what he’s doing, and sits on the bed next to him. “What do you mean?” he asks, and it’s not accusing. He just doesn’t understand the question, and he gives him all of his attention.
Morgana sighs, settling down with his head on his paws. “Here. With you guys. Without my human body, I’m just… Well, I’m just-” he can’t say it. “I don’t fit,” is what he says in the end.
He doesn’t say what he means, because how could he? He sees how happy they make each other, and he just wishes he could be involved too.
Akira pats the top of his head, and when Morgana lifts it to protest, he finds Akira pressing a kiss to the top of his head instead. He seems to know anyway, without having to say it. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” he says, returning to patting with his hand. “Know that all of us love having you here. You’re as important as any one of us.”
Akira goes to get into the bed proper, and lifts Morgana so he can fit. Morgana protests, but only for as long as it takes Akira to lie down and put him on his chest. “If there’s anything we can do to help you feel more included, please let us know,” he continues. “The last thing we want is for you to feel left out.”
Morgana’s tongue flicks out and licks him on the nose. “Thanks, Akira,” he says.
And he believes him.
4.
Makoto isn’t sure where the line is meant to be drawn, anymore. But Akira looks so happy every time he takes her hand, when he brings her a novelty Buchimaru-kun pen he found in a secondhand shop, or buys her a Buchimaru-kun hairclip she wasn’t even aware they made, or a Buchimaru-kun themed notepad set--
Actually, she’s starting to think he’s just using her to get to all the sweet, sweet Buchimaru-kun merch. Not that she can blame him. Not that she’s complaining, either.
But there isn’t even the excuse of helping Makoto’s friend when he invites her out to the aquarium on a weekend off. Makoto says yes, because even if she wants to, she can’t quite deny what the palpitations in her chest are telling her.
Akira takes her hand and leads her around and she absolutely does not think about his fingers laced in hers, not once, at all. She doesn’t think about how his fingers are longer than hers but still accommodate her perfectly, or are always colder than she expects, or how they’re still soft despite how much he wields his daggers.
She doesn’t think about any of that whatsoever, and instead says, “You know, you don’t have to go this far for the ruse.”
He frowns at her, and god, he looks so sweet, bathed in the blue light of the walk-through tunnel. “It’s not a ruse,” he says, looking up to watch the stingrays glide overhead. “Not for me. Not if it’s you.”
And Makoto-- she doesn’t quite know what to say to that.
The stingray passes, and Akira turns his full attention to her. He reaches up, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and oh, she thought that was something they only did in cheesy rom-com movies, but it’s definitely working for her. “I brought you here because I like you a lot, Makoto, and I enjoy being in your company.”
Makoto isn’t used to people being so straightforward and sincere. She’s much more used to… well, people being stiff and formal with her, or even worse, saying everything except what they mean. Akira is giving her a taste of clear, honest communication, and that’s probably what’s doing it for her, more than anything else.
This isn’t a game at all. This is just them, exposed.
He moves closer, taking both her hands in his. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, if you don’t want it to,” he says, “Or you can take your time to think about it. But I’m here for you, any way you want me.”
She doesn’t realise he’s leaned in until he’s whispering in her ear, until his lips brush against the skin of her neck, placing a soft, barely there kiss. He pulls away, and she’s got a fire in her eyes when she says, “I’m yours, Joker. Leader. Akira.”
And now Makoto’s saying embarrassing things too, but she can’t find the energy to worry about it when Akira smiles so sweetly and leans down to kiss her proper.
She can feel them watching her. She knows they’re saying something, she just isn’t quite sure what. Is this how it felt when she was tailing them? God, no wonder they were on to her so quickly.
Instead she just sighs, closes her book, and turns to face them. To their credit, they continue to stare straight at her, not embarrassed in the slightest. In fact, Ann just slides right over to her library table and takes the seat next to her. To her slight horror, Yusuke follows next, looking not at all bothered at being at a school not his own. Ryuji taking the last seat is amusing, but only because Makoto can’t think of a time he’d been in a library of his own free will.
“Is this revenge?” she asks, “For when I was following you guys?”
Ann laughs, her hair falling over her shoulders and oh, isn’t it such a lovely colour? “Oh, the image of you trying to be inconspicuous with an upside-down magazine covering half your face is payment enough. You were so cute,” she says.
Makoto sputters, a little indignant, a red blush threatening to take over her face. “I was not-- cute!”
Yusuke hums, thoughtful. “On the contrary, I thought it was very sweet. It has been the inspiration of many a warm-up sketch. I would love the opportunity to paint more of your exquisite expressions.” He continues to talk to himself about potential future art pieces, and it’s here where he loses the others’ attention.
Ryuji laughs, and it’s not mocking, it’s… affectionate. “Nah, we came for a different reason,” he says, and does he look a little… shy? He rubs the back of his head, but manages to keep his gaze straight. “We thought you might be interested in. Um.”
Ann gives him a spicy glare and cuts in with a hushed, “I swear to god Ryuji if you even so much as think of saying we’re recruiting for a harem-”
“Well I wasn’t going to, but now I want to!” is his answering angry whisper.
“Don’t you dare--”
“If you think about it,” Yusuke interrupts again, his calm voice a little louder over their barely-hushed arguments. “You said it first yourself, Ann.”
Makoto puts her hand up, silencing everyone at the table. And because she’s enjoying leaving them in suspense, she leaves it there a little longer than she needs to gather her thoughts. “You mean to tell me,” she says eventually, “that the Phantom Thieves not only happen to share proclivities, but also affections?”
The other three look to each other and, because Makoto’s hand is still raised, only nod quietly in response.
“And you waited until now to tell me? How could you,” she says, managing to sound both threatening and highly affronted. She lowers her hand, taking Ann’s instead. “I would have you - all of you - any way you’d have me.”
And because it’s a library, Makoto doesn’t let them kiss her, not yet.
Not on the train to Yongen-Jaya.
Not even when they enter Leblanc, giving Sojiro a greeting that he happily answers.
They all invite themselves into Akira’s room, interrupting him where he was stretched out on his makeshift bed, rereading the adventures of Arsene Lupin. He looks surprised - but thoroughly delighted - to see them all.
And then they take turns fighting for who gets to kiss Makoto first, and he understands why they’re all there.
Akira wins, by virtue of sneaking in during the commotion and stealing Makoto away, and he looks very smug about it. They all get their turns in, eventually, and Makoto comes out looking very much like a cat that got the cream.
5.
Futaba is having a Day.
Futaba has had Days before, and this is definitely One Of Them. She’s gotten pretty good at toughing them out, only, she’d made plans to meet Akira today and she’s hoping he’ll just forget about her and go to Akihabara by himself.
Her phone buzzes somewhere in the distance and tells her, damn it, of course he hasn’t forgotten her. But she still doesn’t get up to check it, let alone answer it, and just borrows herself into her blankets even further.
Her memories and all her complicated feelings about them have been running quickfire through her head - her palace, her conflicting recollections of her mother, wondering whether the energy she’s putting into the world is good enough or if she should try harder, work harder to be anything worthwhile--
And then suddenly, someone is knocking at her door, and she hears a muffled, “Futaba?”
It pulls her out of the spiral she was descending into, the background fuzz and white noise clearing just a little and giving her something else to focus on. Akira’s voice, the sound of him shuffling around just outside the door, the sound of the latch catching--
Oh, Futaba should help let him in, but she’s perfectly comfortable in her bed cocoon, thank you very much. Even so, it doesn’t take him long to open, because-- well, phantom thieving often lends quite well real life thievery, too.
“Futaba?” he calls again, taking a small step into the room. “You didn’t answer my texts, so I came to see if you were alright.”
Futaba doesn’t say anything, but he still closes the door behind him and shuffles forward carefully, probably trying to maneuver around all the stuff on the floor. He feels him try to settle on the edge of her bed and jump up when he realises he’s accidentally squishing her feet. She snorts, moves her legs to the side, and lets him sit.
And that’s all he does. He sits, and waits, and asks in a quiet voice, “Can I do anything to make you more comfortable?”
She shakes her head, then realises that he probably can’t see what she’s doing. So she pulls the cover of her blanket down the tiniest bit, only just exposing the top of her head. “Just stay with me, please,” she mumbles into the blanket.
He stays, but she can feel his weight shifting a little bit as he tries to find a safe place to put his hand. He settles on her leg, and rubs it, comforting. “Of course,” he says. “As long as you need.”
He shifts again, and then Akira is kissing the top of her head, soft and chaste and not demanding anything from Futaba that she isn’t willing to give. It makes something twist in her stomach, not unpleasantly, and it surprises her to realise that it’s pushed a lot of the other, uglier feelings to the side.
Futaba pokes her head out a little more, so that just her eyes are visible. She can’t see him very well in the darkness, but she sees his slightly darker outline. She decides to be brave. “Can you do that again?”
And Akira doesn’t laugh. He just says, “Of course,” and leans down to kiss her forehead once more.
“Again,” she says.
“Of course,” he replies, kissing her forehead again.
“Again,” she says.
Again, and again, and again, and he obliges every time, until the last again is a sleepy one, and he kisses her off to sleep.
Futaba plucks up all the courage she has, and approaches them first. Her poor face is bright red as a traffic light and she just… stands there, for the longest time. The others give her all the time she needs. It’s okay, they understand. They’ve all been there, after all.
“I-I really like you guys!” she eventually ends up blurting out, words coming out all at once. “And… I know you guys all really like Joker too, and so do I, and I just thought…” and all of a sudden, her words are failing her. She’s already said too much, and she’s started to mumble to the ground.
It’s Yusuke that reaches for her first, draws her into a tight hug. Of course it would be Inari, she thinks with a little laugh, even as she reaches out to twine her own arms around him and squeezes. To her pleasure, he grunts, surprised at her strength, even as she buries his head into his chest.
She feels the others crowd in behind her, around her, and it would be so suffocating, if it weren’t so full of love. She laughs again, because how could she have been so afraid. These are her thieves too, and of course their hearts would align for this, too.
“I can’t believe you’re all so sappy,” she mumbles against Yusuke’s chest, even as she thinks that she could probably stay like this forever.
“Alright, moment ruined,” Ryuji says with a laugh, ruffling Futaba’s hair as he breaks off from the huddle.
The others laugh too, slowly letting her go. Yusuke is the last the let go, by virtue of also being the first and being trapped within the others, though he didn’t look too upset by it. He looks down, surprised to see Futaba looking back at him. “I think it hardly needs saying, but I’ll say it anyway. We like you too, and we’ll meet you, wherever you are.”
Futaba feels the truth in that. But what she says instead is, “You’ve got a double chin from this angle.”
He sighs, and kisses the top of her head, and just like that, they’re something new and different but so much the same and Futaba finds herself happy, just like this.
Yusuke
Akira, Futaba has something she would like to say to you.
Futaba
Inari! Shut up!!!
Ann
Aw, you know we’re all just here to support you!
Ryuji
Yeah, what’d you call us? We’re your vital thingies now, too!
Yusuke
Mm indeed. She just said she loves you
Futaba
Inari I will literally strangle you.
Akira
Where are you guys right now?
Makoto
Futaba invited us to Leblanc, so we’re all sharing a table at the moment.
Akira
K be 20min
Yusuke
when you bring back instant ramen for her.
Ryuji
…
Ryuji
Dude. You type so slow.
Yusuke
Why does she look so murderous?
Ann
You better run Yusuke!!
-- YUSUKE has left the chat!--
6.
Haru meets Akira at the rooftop, where he’s helping to plant some of her new tomato plants. These ones seem to be his favourite, given how much he asks for them.
He digs in the soil, and she sows seeds after him. Together they put plant makers beside the seeds, feed them with Haru’s own homemade mulch mix, and make sure they’re properly defended from insects and birds and the prying hands of other Shujin students.
Haru wipes her hands off on the apron she wears when she’s gardening and sighs happily, looking at the work they’ve accomplished. “Well done!” she says to Akira, who’s smiling softly at her.
At the plants, she corrects herself.
No, if Haru is not mistaken, he’s smiling softly at her.
They’re both still crouching on the ground next to the plants, and she doesn’t really think it through, she just. Shuffles closer, still crouched. Tilts his head with her hands still caked with dirt, and kisses him.
His eyes go wide, but hers close, taking in the everything about him, the closeness, how warm he feels against her lips. When they part, she’s greeted with the loveliest blush she’s ever seen, and she giggles.
“Haru- you-!!” Akira gasps, but he doesn’t look offended. If anything, he starts to pout. “How dare you kiss me before I can kiss you,” is all he says.
She laughs again, bumping shoulders with him and almost toppling him off balance. “If you’d like, we can try it again and you can pretend you kissed me first.”
He doesn’t reply to that but he stands, reaching a hand down to help her up. When they’re both standing again, he tugs her forward, putting his other hand on her back as he kisses her deep. She sighs happily, feeling like she could stay like this forever, and-- is he tipping her?! She gasps softly against his lips, and she can feel him grinning back.
Her heart is full of butterflies when he pulls them upright again. They part, but his face is so close to hers, and she can see that their combined breaths are actually steaming up his glasses.
She bursts out a laugh and pushes him away, and he laughs back, doing absolutely nothing about his fogged up glasses and instead fumbling around, arms stretched out in front of him, trying to find her.
She’s so fond of the way he looks, smiling so brightly as he connects with her again, hands coming to reach her shoulder. He feels his way down to her hand, and twines their fingers together. He comes in for another kiss, only barely getting the corner of her mouth, and her heart finally settles into something soft and content.
Haru is the first to arrive, the next time they agree to go into the metaverse. This works for her, so she orders one of Sojiro’s coffees - always a good reminder of the kind of quality she wants to serve in the future - and starts thinking about how she wants to explain her affections.
The bell tinkles, drawing Haru’s attention to the door. It’s Makoto who walks in, next to arrive, and Haru shortcircuits a little, staring at the way her hair looks perfect despite the wind outside, how her eyes crinkle as she waves hello, the way her lips part as she says Haru’s name--
And she just can’t help herself. She gets up, walks over to her, takes both of Makoto’s hands in hers and says, “Hello, Mako-chan! I’m going to kiss you now!”
And she does, with great enthusiasm.
To her credit, Makoto is only startled for half a second, before she leans into it and kisses her back.
It’s different, kissing a girl, Haru thinks. Her lips are soft where Akira’s were honestly a little chapped, but no less lovely. Makoto sighs happily, and she agrees.
When they part, Haru has a huge grin on her face to match Makoto’s. “Hello, Haru-chan,” she says, softer, tender. “I’m going to kiss you again.”
Sojiro makes a grumbling noise behind them, which makes them split apart, embarrassed. He just gives them a pointed look, very much used to all of their affections by now, and they sit down, now with matching blushes on their faces.
The calm doesn’t last long as the bell tinkles again and it’s Ryuji, holding the door open for Ann. Ann laughs and kisses his cheek, then tugs him in behind her.
Haru is out of her seat before Makoto can say anything, and she presses a quick kiss to both of their cheeks as they raise their hands to say hello. This catches them both a little off guard, but, again, not for long, as they take turns kissing her back.
“Hello to you too!” Ann says happily, reaching up to hold Haru’s cheek in her hand, caressing her cheek with her thumb. “It’s so good to have you with us.”
Ryuji grumbles something Ann can’t hear about being a sap, and she swats him on the shoulder for it. Haru just giggles as Ann turns to kiss her again.
And so it goes for the rest of them. Akira and Futaba arrive next together, with Haru greeting them just as enthusiastically. Akira meets her happily, but Futaba blushes big and bright and red and hurries into her usual booth next to them, flopping face down into the seats, definitely not squealing about it.
Yusuke is the last to arrive, and Haru grabs his hand, tugs him forward, and dips him into a kiss this time, tilting him so low and sweet that even Sojiro can’t help but be impressed.
They stay low even as Haru breaks the kiss, and nuzzles their noses together. Yusuke stares up at her in amazement, in wonder, and she falls in love with all of them a little more in this moment.
Sojiro closes up for them and they take their places in their booth.
And it feels like the picture of them, complete.
+1.
Akira had imagined kissing Akechi in a hundred different ways, a thousand different scenarios.
He imagined taking his hand after a loss at 701, kissing the fingers that had beaten him oh so skillfully.
Imagined reaching across the table at the Jazz Club as the music flowed over them. Akechi would reach back, and he’d lean in and their lips would meet, and it would all make sense.
Imagined pushing him up against one of the slot machines in Sae’s palace, ripping the Crow mask off and devouring him then and there. Akechi would twist his hands into his hair and pull, and it would tug his heart along with it.
God, he wanted so badly-- to reach out, to hold, to touch, but they always missed each other. He thought for sure that this time they met, Akechi would hold his gaze and move closer. Open his heart. But it was always buried under three layers of lies, and he could never burrow his way through.
Despite how much he’d hoped Akechi wanted it, too. Somewhere, underneath his carefully constructed personas. Akira sees the ghost of what Akechi means in the aftermath of what he says.
Leave me alone. Help me. Don’t go. Stay away.
In the end, he only kissed him once. Looked him straight in the eye, his gaze unwavering as he sat, handcuffed, in front of him.
Akechi held the gun steady.
Akira - so careful, tender in a way Akechi had never experienced before - took his hand in both of his bound ones. Pressed one soft kiss to the back of his knuckles, the barrel of the gun.
Akechi's hand wavered--
--but the bullet still hit its mark.
Akira feels the loss of him, and cries.
Finale.
Akira steps into Leblanc, and feels like his world explodes.
There’s noise, and so many tears, and hands are grabbing him and he feels lips on his face, knocking his glasses astray, and he laughs.
His thieves, whom he loves so dearly, are all there to greet him. They’re all talking on top of each other, pushing their way into his space and barely giving him a moment to breathe, but he loves every second of it.
This, he thinks, is what makes everything worth it. Seeing the sheer amount of love on all of their faces, even as they cry, even as they laugh, even as they scold him for putting himself in harm's way even though they knew it was the only way they could do things--
And he reaches out and touches them, pulls them all into a hug, and they laugh together, feeling jubilant in a successful ruse. Feeling hopeful for the future ahead of them, knowing that despite everything, they’d have another day. Another week. Another year.
Decades, even.
They have a lot of planning to do. A lot more thievery to accomplish. But first.
He coaxes them all upstairs, and they all set about making the floor of Akira’s attic the most comfortable thing they’ve ever seen. Futaba has got spare mattresses from the Sakura house, and Ryuji has brought blankets, and they all pile in together, fighting for who gets to sleep next to Akira.
He’s the last to go to sleep, his thieves pressed against every side of him, hearing them snore, and he smiles.
Akira had been lonely, even before he arrived in Tokyo.
Then his world had been turned upside down, and he’d felt so completely alone, isolated in a way he never had before. So he put on his mask in the form of his glasses, and put his head down, and had hardly dared to wish for something good.
But Akira’s heart had still wished, so desperately, without his permission, and regardless of how much he tried to suppress it. He’d wished for someone to love him, to treasure him, to please, please choose me, please love me, love me on purpose--
Please reach out with both hands--
--And he found 6 pairs of hands reaching back.