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It’s been a month since Akira returned to Inaba.
He wakes up everyday to the morning sun, Morgana smothering him in his sleep. It’s a similar feeling to waking up in the dusty Leblanc attic again but something’s always missing, a type of warmth only found in creaking floorboards and the faint smell of coffee. His parents are always gone by the time he wakes up, the house silent and cold.
He'll be honest in saying that he misses the humid city air and Sojiro yelling at him from downstairs every morning. When he opens his eyes in the morning, Akira almost expects to hear the shopkeeper's bell alongside a cheery greeting.
He misses going places with his friends. The museum with Yusuke or a hole-in-the-wall cafe with Haru, shopping with Ann and Futaba or going for jogs with Makoto and Ryuji. Group outings are never dull either, whether it was Harajuku or Shinagawa. It’s been a month since he’s seen anyone outside of his parents and Morgana. They all keep in touch, sending daily updates to their busy groupchat, but while his friends are packing for university and going to after-school karaoke, Akira hides in his room with the overwhelming fear of a man drowning in his thoughts.
Compared to Inaba, Tokyo was thrilling. The closest thing they have to Shinagawa aquarium is the fish tank at Shiroku Pub, and Shichiri Beach is small and gloomy compared to Miura Beach in Kanagawa, though he supposes the lack of company might have something to do with that. He can’t even attend school anymore, having been kicked out of Yasogami High almost a full year ago. The town is too sleepy for him, too quiet.
Tokyo has Destinyland and the Skytree. Shibuya 105, Dome Town, and the Seaside Park in Odaiba. Tokyo has Harajuku and the underground mall, where Ann took him shopping, and Ichigaya and Ogikubo Ramen, where he spent hours upon hours with Ryuji, his partner. Watching episodes of featherman on the TV will never feel the same as buying the box sets in Nakano with Futaba, saving them for a rainy day in the attic of Leblanc, and without Akechi scowling at him from over the pool table, Akira doesn’t think he’ll ever play again.
Crossroads, with Lala roping him into part-time work and Ohya rambling at him drunkenly. Kanda Church, playing shogi against Hifumi under the towering stained glass windows. The Ginza sushi restaurant, using leftover Mementos money to pay for his and Yusuke’s meals. The school library, where he finds a frazzled Makoto during exam season, the diner, where he studies with the likes of Mishima and Morgana over sweet treats, and the school rooftop, where Haru takes him when he gets overwhelmed.
Out of everything, the worst thing about moving back out to Inaba after his probation is living with his parents again. His new-found independence is completely disregarded by his mother, who barges into his bedroom without so much as a knock, and he has a constant headache from the arguments he has with his father. They slam doors, search through his things when he’s out, yell at each other and at him. He has to hide Morgana until the sun goes down, because God forbid his parents find his cat.
Akira’s parents alternate between getting angry at him - his probation, his choice in friends, his very existence - and completely ignoring him, brushing past him in the hallway, leaving him to make his own dinner and buy his own groceries with the little money he has. They ridicule him, nastily teasing him about being a criminal and a delinquent, and they joke about his trauma. Akira mentioned his nightmares once and they jumped at the opportunity to rip him apart.
Every night, he has the worst nightmares. The sky rains heavy red raindrops with the thickness of blood, skeletons towering high above him with veins tangled around each bone. Yaldabaoth’s voice echoes through his head, booming tone making every hair stand on end. His friends stand in front of him, but when he reaches out for them, they disappear as if they never existed. He falls, falls, falls through the air, the Shibuya crowds screaming below, and just before he hits the ground, his eyes snap open and he’s lying in bed, Morgana sprawled across his chest. After nights like these, he drinks an awfully bitter cup of coffee and stares out of the window into the rainy countryside, hands trembling minutely from where they’re wrapped around his mug.
When Akira actually has to go into town, he pulls his hood up and avoids the judgemental stares of the people who pass by. The shopkeepers either cower away or openly scowl at him, even the neighbours who would greet him every morning now glare at him over a cup of stale coffee from their windows. Even the stray cats that used to gravitate towards him have started to hiss and run away whenever he gets close.
It’s only been one month and Akira still has roughly three more to get through until he can get back to Tokyo. He prays that it’ll go fast but knowing his luck with holy bodies and higher beings, his prayers will be in vain.
-
Akira boards the train, lucky to find an empty seat that fits both him and his bags. He flops down and pulls out his phone. The Phantom Thieves group chat has been exploding for the past half hour and only now can Akira check it. On his screen are interchanging messages from Ryuji and Futaba, the yellow and green chat bubbles making him chuckle fondly.
luigi sakamoto: GUESS WHOS BACK TODAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
football: the blue featherman???
luigi sakamoto: NO
luigi sakamoto: MY BOYFRIENDDDDDDD
football: oh wow i wasnt aware
football: dont you call him like. every night.
luigi sakamoto: ITS NOT THE SAME
luigi sakamoto: dont pretend youre not excited
football: ye but hes like my brother
football: you guys are gross and stuff
luigi sakamoto: were gonna be gross in front of your face
luigi sakamoto: gonna kiss him gonna smooch my bf
football: im banning myself from chat
Akira covers his mouth, grinning into his palm. He has to stop himself from snorting out a laugh, lest the person in the seat across the aisle from him looks at him weirdly. He sees that Makoto and Yusuke have left the two on read so he doesn’t feel as guilty doing the same.
His knee bounces restlessly, his finger taps against his thigh. It’s been months since he’s seen the rest of his friends and he misses them so much. Yusuke couldn’t make it to their last group hangout after coming down with a debilitating cold, and Makoto and Haru have been swamped with university assignments, too busy to check their phones. He’s looking forward to seeing them, as well as his boyfriend, his little sister, and his best friend.
Akira looks out the window at the sprawling hillside rushing past, cows dotting grassy paddocks and even the occasional horse. The sun reflects off of the dewey grass and makes the countryside feel almost lucid. Almost out of Inaba, the fog starts to dissipate and Akira can see the cherry blossoms blooming in the distance.
He catches his reflection in the window. His lips are pulled up into a fond smile, eyes curled into crescents. He rubs a hand over his face, looking away from the window and relaxing in his seat. With the train steadily chugging forward and hushed chatter of a couple nestled into the seats behind him, Akira dozes off.
“Shibuya, this is Shibuya.”
Akira jerks awake, discreetly wiping the line of drool on his chin. He yawns and stretches his arm above his head, joints clicking loudly. He waits until the train is practically empty before he grabbing his bags and trudging out of the train. His palms are sweaty and his heart is slamming against his chest, he’s so close now.
The platform hasn’t changed at all. People push past him, salarymen bustle through the crowd and teenagers on their cellphones charge forward indiscriminately. He takes a deep breath and steps toward the stairs. He catches sight of his friends clustered at the wall, Makoto loosely holding a sign while she scolds Futaba and Ryuji. Looking closer at the sign, he notices his boyfriend’s familiar scrawl used to write his name. He assumes the flowers that border it are Haru’s handiwork. Yusuke stands to the side with Ann, gesturing to the bright scarf wrapped around his neck.
He stands for a moment, just watching them. If he was an outsider, he would assume they’re loitering, taking up unnecessary space, causing havoc on purpose. As a part of the group though, he can see the way Ryuji’s hands flail animatedly, almost nervously, and he can hear Ann’s voice clearly, rambling to Yusuke. Haru’s cheeks are flushed, Makoto’s foot taps against the subway tile underfoot, Futaba doesn’t make a peep. They’re all nervous with anticipation and Akira feels much the same. Morgana wiggles around in his bag, protesting quietly. He takes a step forward.
Ryuji glances over Makoto’s shoulder to Akira, away, and back to Akira. His previously furrowed eyebrows shoot up and he stumbles past Makoto. Akira speeds up his pace and before he knows it, he’s in Ryuji’s arms. His bags have been abandoned at his feet and his face is buried in his boyfriend’s shoulder and, God, he feels whole again.
“God, I missed you so much, man.” Ryuji murmurs into his hair. Akira takes a deep breath, breathing in the smell of his boyfriend’s cheap cologne. He melts into Ryuji, pulling him as close as possible. Ryuji’s hands slip under his jacket, tracing his spine over the thin fabric of his t-shirt. There’s an exaggerated gagging noise behind them, cut off by a pained yelp.
Ryuji pulls away and takes his face in his hands, peppering kisses over it. His lips press against his cheeks, forehead, eyelids and nose before finally landing on his lips. Akira sighs, wrapping his arms around Ryuji’s neck. They part, Akira flushes pink at the pure adoration swirling in Ryuji’s eyes. “I missed you.” Akira murmurs. Someone grabs him from behind and pulls him backwards, spinning him around to see Ann.
“Did you miss the rest of us too?” She grins, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Of course.” Akira hugs her back just as tight, accidentally lifting her off of the ground. She yelps, kicking her feet until he puts her back down with an apologetic chuckle. “Sorry about that.”
He gets passed around the group. Haru hugs him warmly, rubbing his back soothingly, while Futaba jumps onto him, latching herself onto him like a leech. Makoto gives him a side-hug, Yusuke pats him on the back with a smile that makes the corner of his eyes crinkle. Morgana has wiggled his way out of Akira’s bag by now, purring loudly at Ann and Futaba’s affection. Ryuji slings an arm over his shoulder, pulling him closer.
“It’s good to have you back, ‘Kira.” Ryuji whispers, leaning close for only Akira to hear. Akira gazes into Ryuji’s hazel eyes, lips curving into a soft smile.
“It’s good to be back.” Akira whispers back, pressing his lips to the apple of Ryuji’s cheek.
While he’s been away, he’s been video calling all of his friends. They’ll have online game nights, spend mindless hours gossiping, or just exist together - Akira cooking dinner while Yusuke paints and Haru waters her plants. Every night without fail, group or not, he’ll get on a call with Ryuji. His hair has grown out, dark roots spreading out until only the tips are blond, and his body has grown stronger, sturdier. Akira remembers all the post-gym calls between the two of them and wills his face not to flush.
Though he can see these changes through the screen, there’s nothing like seeing Ryuji in person. He still smells like the same konbini cologne with a hint of beef ramen, his hair feels softer, not as fried from the constant bleaching, and feeling the rippling muscle of Ryuji’s body under his own fingers is incomparable to anything else. Ryuji will blow him kisses over the phone, which he pretends to grab and tuck in his pocket, but feeling the warmth of his lips brushing over his face is completely different, something he hasn’t felt in months.
The automated voice overhead announces an incoming train from Akihabara and Akira deflates, imagining all the people pushing through their group with no thought. Morgana squawks behind him but before he can glance over, Futaba grabs ahold of his wrist, her other hand holding Ann’s, and pulls him up the stairs. Ryuji stumbles as his arm slips from Akira’s shoulders,
“C’mon, Sojiro’s waiting for us out front!” Futaba pulls him forward, making him yelp as he almost trips over his own feet. He chances a look behind him and sees that Yusuke has his bags hiked up on both shoulders, reassuring the others that he can carry them just fine. Ryuji watches them go, lips parted in disbelief.
He lets Futaba pull him up the stairs and through the station square, offering zero regard to the people she practically mows down in her haste. He can’t help but think of the skittish teenager he had first met nearly a year ago now, she’s grown so much. She never used to make such a ruckus in public, hell, she never used to go outside, but as she pulls him past disgruntled salarymen, she laughs, loud and bright. Akira can’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm and think, that’s my little sister.
He sees a pair of cars, one yellow and one sleek black, and two adults talking in front of them. They turn to face him with warm smiles. “Welcome back.” Sojiro stamps out his cigarette and wipes his hands on his slacks before clapping him on the shoulder. The touch is simple but it’s so grounding that Akira almost shudders.
“Long time, no see.” Sae’s painted lips mould into a genuine smile. “You seem to be doing well, especially after everything that happened last year.”
Akira just nods along, not trusting himself to say anything in case he spills everything he’s tried so hard to bottle up. He notices Futaba glance up at him questioningly out of the corner of his eye, squeezing his hand in hers, but chooses to avoid her eyes, gazing up at the skyscrapers of central Tokyo instead.
Sojiro starts a casual conversation with the three of them but Akira silently elects himself out of it. The early afternoon sun glints off of the rows of windows and the blue sky stretches as far as he can see without a cloud in sight. It’s nice to not have to carry an umbrella with him everywhere.
The sky is blue, he tells himself subconsciously. His brain involuntarily gives him the image of his friends with partially invisible limbs and he flinches, Futaba’s hand tightening in his. She taps him on the back of the hand, and when that doesn’t pull him from his internal spiral, she tugs on his arm gently. Someone clings onto him from behind, arms wrapping around his waist and breath warm on his neck.
“Please, don’t run off like that again- oh my god…” Ryuji pants.
“You snooze, you lose.” Futaba taunts, her voice a little wobbly as she squeezes Akira’s hand again.
He’s worrying her. She can tell something’s wrong with him, she’s always been perceptive like that and he’d expect nothing less of their navigator, but Akira takes a deep breath and gives her a small smile, withdrawing his hand from hers. Sojiro glances between them, Sae raises an eyebrow. Behind them, the rest of the group finally arrive, Yusuke’s arms trembling under the weight of Akira’s bags.
“Would we be able to get going now? I am quite hungry and curry sounds lovely right now.” he says, dropping the bags at his feet and rubbing his wrists with a grimace.
“Of course. Let’s get going.” Sae takes a bag in each hand, a worn keychain jingling pitifully as she moves to place it in the boot of her car. Makoto and Haru help her, waving away Ann’s attempts at helping them. Morgana sits on her shoulder, glancing over at Akira and whispering something in her ear. Akira avoids Ann’s probing gaze when it lands on him.
They all load into the two separate cars; Akira, Ryuji, Futaba and Morgana in Sojiro’s car and Haru, Ann, Makoto and Yusuke in Sae’s car. Futaba’s fingers dig into his arm, her grip unforgiving, and Ryuji rests his cheek on the crown of Akira’s head when he lays his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
Akira’s out like a light, Morgana curled into his side and also dozing off.
-
Akira’s supposed to be in Tokyo for two weeks. In those two weeks, he finds himself doing all the activities he missed doing with his friends. Museums, arcades, shopping trips and more, he’s surprised he has enough money put away for all of it.
Over the past week, he’s completed a total of 4 different games with Futaba and Ryuji, spent more money than he should have in the underground mall with Ann and Shiho and lazed around in Crossroads with Ohya and Lala. Later in the week he has lunch with Shinya and strategy planning with Hifumi planned, he knows his friends are going to worm their way into his free time though.
Today he’s sitting across from Haru and Yusuke in a small cafe in Shibuya. Haru chatters contentedly about university while Yusuke makes short comments about the cafe’s interior design, decidedly unhappy with the abysmal colour and decoration.
Akira nurses an almost empty cup of coffee, nodding along to Haru’s tangent about her professors.
“It’s actually rather interesting, the way he acts is almost as if he’s a plant himself! I have heard rumours that he is the sanest of the botany professors however so I’ll excuse it.” Haru giggles behind her hand, the sound mixing with Yusuke’s appreciative hum.
Akira attempts a smile but it probably doesn’t look too convincing if Haru’s almost inconceivable frown is anything to go off. He gazes out of the cafe and into the bustling streets, missing the look exchanged by the other two. His brain supplies an image of red floodwater slapping against the cafe windows and he shudders minutely.
“Well, that’s enough about me. Tell me about yourself, Akira!” Akira startles. His head snaps back to Haru, greeted by an endearing smile.
“Oh, you know. Just doing the same old stuff I did here in Tokyo.” He gives the duo a tight smile, sipping the last of his coffee and carefully placing it with the small pile of empty plates from their lunch.
“Oh? And what exactly does that entail?” Yusuke asks. Akira can feel their gazes burning into the side of his head but he keeps his eyes on the table.
“Like, I don’t know, chilling in my room and talking to Morgana and drinking coffee. Same old, same old.” He glances up to see Haru’s mouth downturned and Yusuke’s harsh frown. He averts his eyes again, scratching at a stain on the tabletop.
“Is… Is that it?” Haru asks softly. Akira nods, keeping his mouth shut to stop the words clawing their way up his throat. It would be too much to explain.
He hears Yusuke take a breath and tenses, ready for the onslaught of borderline invasive questions, but is interrupted by an employee taking their empty dishes and making small talk with the pair.
Akira slides out from the booth, excusing himself to go to the bathroom. Haru and Yusuke try to protest behind him but he’s already halfway across the cafe. He’s done quickly and drying his hands when he catches himself in the mirror and stares. Pathetic, his mind spits.
His brain has been stuffed with white noise and his eyes are stinging ever-so-slightly with hot tears but he refuses to let them fall. The breath he takes is shaky but the pain in his chest forces him to look away and leave.
His friends are whispering frantically between themselves when he returns, looking up with wide eyes at his arrival. Haru flashes him a bright grin and guides them outside.
“Yusuke and I decided a walk would be nice. Is that okay with you?” Akira hums and quickly finds himself sandwiched between the pair. He lets a soft smile worm its way onto his face.
He can deal with the watchful eyes, the hushed whispering and rushed typing on their phones if it means he can spend time with two of his closest friends. Akira finds he doesn’t mind when Haru links their arms, Yusuke doing the same on his other side shamelessly.
It’s nice to be cared for after four long months.
+
Akira’s standing behind the counter of LeBlanc, drying off a mug absentmindedly. It hasn’t been busy in the slightest so Sojiro decided to close the shop for the day and let everyone have a conjoined welcome back and goodbye party.
Futaba sits hunched over in the corner booth, typing something out rapidly while complaining loudly over the fact that the group hadn’t been able to hang out once until now.
“It’s just unfair, y’know? You just got here and now you’re going again!” She huffs, closing the lid of her laptop and frowning at Akira over the top of her glasses. He chuckles.
“I’ll come back next holiday Futaba, stop being dramatic. It’ll go by faster than you realise.” She gasps, jumping up to yell at him over the counter. Akira quips back and they trade verbal jabs until Futaba groans and flops back into the booth. Sojiro watches the two of them in fond exasperation.
Picking up a plate to dry, Akira allows his mind to wander. He thinks about what Futaba just said and his chest aches. Two weeks being around all his friends again and then he goes back to his parents house in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, isolated from anyone who cares about him.
At the same time however, he almost wants to go back.
Akira knows he’s been a downer the whole trip, his friends aren’t exactly subtle. He feels bad, he wants to stop being a bother and leave them to be content among themselves. He’s been trying so hard to act like a normal person, no tears or trauma to be seen. It’s not nearly that easy though.
The shopkeeper’s bell rings and Ryuji barrels into the cafe, Ann stepping in behind him and barely missing getting smacked by the door. They start yelling at each other and Akira sighs quietly.
“I’ll finish these off. Go spend time with your friends.” Sojiro plucks the plate from Akira’s hands and stores it away in the cupboard, taking the cloth from his hands and efficiently drying a handful of spoons.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to-”
Sojiro scowls at him
“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.”
Akira nods, eyes glued to the floor.
He shuffles out into the main part of the shop and is immediately wrapped up in Ann’s embrace. Akira almost melts into her, wrapping his arms around her waist gently. She squeezes him tightly and lets go, beaming at him.
“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you! I’m sorry for being busy all the time.” She pouts. Akira waves his hands, disregarding her apology. They chat for a bit, Ann catching him up on her magazine shoots and Akira telling her about the cafe he went to with Haru and Yusuke.
As expected, she bounds over to Haru and starts inquiring about the desserts they sell. Akira didn’t even notice when she had arrived but the booths were full with his friends, Yusuke and Haru gossiping with Makoto and Futaba over the span of two booths.
He watches his friends fondly. Akira doesn’t know if they hang out often without him, he doesn’t bother asking, but he knows they probably do. The feeling’s bittersweet; his friends staying friends even when he’s not there to join them.
Akira shakes the thoughts out of his head and turns to the kitchen, trying to help out even though he knows he’ll get shooed out again.
Arms wrap around his waist and hoist him into the air. He yelps and the person behind him laughs heartily. Placed back on solid ground, Akira whips around to see Ryuji beaming at him endearingly.
“No way you’re workin’ while you’re supposed to be havin’ fun.” Ryuji crowds him into an empty booth and forces him to sit down. He leans against Ryuji, all tension exiting his body, leaving him feeling like a puddle on his boyfriend’s shoulder.
They stay there for the remainder of the evening, wrapped up in each other. Ryuji has an arm around his shoulders while Akira leans into his side, tucking his head into the crook of Ryuji’s neck. Occasionally, his boyfriend will pepper kisses over the crown of his head before returning to his conversation.
Futaba keeps them entertained, singing off tune karaoke with Ann and making up strange dances with Yusuke, before falling asleep in her corner booth. Ann sits behind Akira, absentmindedly playing with his hair while she talks to Makoto. Yusuke somehow roped Sojiro into showing him how to make the “perfect blend”. Akira recognises it as one of the beginner blends Sojiro had him making for weeks on end.
Before long, everyone was saying goodbye. Haru, Yusuke and Makoto left together, all giving him soft hugs and well wishes. Ann left next, nearly suffocating Akira in a bone-crushing hug. He pretended to not see the tears clinging to her bottom lashes.
Futaba leaves last, waking up with a jolt and sluggishly walking back home without so much as a “goodbye”. It hurts a little but he knows she’ll probably remember he’s gone when she wakes up in the morning (or 3pm) and curse herself for it. He won’t hold it against her.
And Ryuji, well. Ryuji doesn’t leave. He insists on staying to help clean up and then doesn’t make to leave once everything has been put away. The two of them lie in their booth like one big pile of mush, Ryuji with his head on Akira’s chest and Akira scratching the base of Ryuji’s scalp.
Sojiro tells them to get upstairs so that he can close up and they tiredly oblige, Ryuji practically carrying Akira up the stairs. (“Ohh, my strong boyfriend!” “S-Shut up, man…”)
Akira presses his grin into Ryuji’s shoulder, not needing to look up to know how flushed his boyfriend's cheeks are. Sojiro calls out an amused “goodnight” from the door before it clicks shut and silence falls upon the cafe.
The pair of them get ready for bed and flop onto the mattress. Akira bundles himself up in Ryuji’s chest almost immediately, leaving his boyfriend to try and get comfortable around him.
“It’d really help if you could, I dunno, move? Please?” Ryuji huffs, yanking the comforter out from under Akira with a grunt. He drapes it over them, the dark-haired boy sighing in content and pushing closer into Ryuji’s chest.
They get caught up whispering and sharing quick kisses, sleep creeping in ever-so-slowly. Akira has never felt so at peace before, so warm and cared for. Ryuji rambles sleepily and Akira just listens.
“-Like, I’m gonna miss you so much and I hope you know that. I don’t care that it’s only a couple months, I love you ‘Kira and I hate that you have to go back home.” Ryuji hums.
Akira’s eyes snap open.
He knew he would be leaving but he had been trying so hard to not think about what he would be returning to. Hiding Morgana every day, feeling so out of place in the town he spent all his childhood years, the unmistakable slamming of doors.
His parents, his town, the anger, the nightmares, the screaming-
“‘Kira? You okay?”
Ryuji is peering down at him, holding Akira’s hands to his chest in concern. Akira realises how hard he’s grinding his teeth and how tense he is and he knows that Ryuji can tell. He avoid’s his boyfriend’s questioning gaze, how would even begin to explain it?
But Ryuji’s rubbing circles on the backs of Akira’s hands and looking at him with all the love in the world and then some and Akira can feel everything he’s tied down and bottled up clawing through his chest and up his throat. Tears start to well up in his eyes and he sniffs hard to stop his nose from running.
“Home- My parent’s house. It’s… It’s hell, Ryuji.”
The blond’s eyes widen in alarm, inching closer to hear him better. Akira takes it as his sign to continue. He knows his boyfriend will listen either way.
“T-They yell, they slam doors, they pretend I don’t exist one day and- and hate me the next. They hate me, Ryuji, I know they do.” He chokes out, tears streaking messily down his cheeks.
“‘Kira…”
“What am I supposed to do, Ryuji? They’re my parents, for god's sake! I-I can’t do anything…”
“You could… cut contact?”
Akira scoffs at the suggestion. Ryuji frowns and lets go of his hands, holding his face in his palms. Akira tries to avoid eye contact but Ryuji holds him in place, gazing at him with a loving kind of determination he’s never seen before. Akira sobs harder.
“I cut contact with my dad, you know that. You’re allowed to do things for yourself, ‘Kira.”
Akira sniffs wetly. “B-But… He hurt you.”
“And your parents don’t?”
Akira burrows into Ryuji’s chest again, trembling. Ryuji wraps his arms around his boyfriend tightly, drawing fluid shapes on Akira’s shoulder blades and scraping his nails against his spine. Akira whimpers and shudders at every gentle touch, choking out choppy sobs.
He thinks about his parents who don’t love him, don’t accept him, don’t listen to him. He thinks about his nightmares filled with red rain and his friends that disappear before he can do or say anything.
He thinks about Tokyo. His best friends and his boyfriend and his parental figure who cares more for him than his own father ever has. He thinks of playing shogi with Hifumi in Kanda’s church and gaming with Shinya in Akihabara’s arcade and his two old friends milling about Kichijoji.
He wails, throat raw and stomach doing somersaults upon backflips upon cartwheels. He can very faintly hear the blond whispering into his hair, voice low and reassuring compared to his own rough, raspy, devastated one.
He’s safe here. In LeBlanc, in Yongen-jaya, in Tokyo, this is where he is the safest.
After a while, all the anguish leaves Akira’s body and he’s left feeling like a husk of himself. His hands are shaking from where they’re tangled in the back of Ryuji’s shirt and his eyes are burning in their sockets.
“I’m sorry, ‘Kira. I should’ve said something earlier, when I first noticed.” Ryuji murmurs. Akira rubs his face against the front of Ryuji’s shirt, groaning in disagreement.
“I-It’s not your fault. I should’ve trusted you more.”
They lie there for a while, motionless except for Akira’s fingers drawing masterpieces on Ryuji’s back and Ryuji running his hands through Akira’s hair.
“Y’know… Sojiro offered me a place here. When I first got back.” Ryuji hums. Akira doesn’t say he’s considering it because Ryuji already knows, he wouldn’t have said it if it had no meaning.
They don’t say anything more. They don’t need to. It’s just the two of them resting in the faint moonlight from Akira’s undrawn curtains, wrapped in each other’s presence. It’s all they need, it’s all they’ll ever need.
+
Days pass.
Akira is back at his parents house. They weren’t home when he arrived and didn’t greet him when they saw him sitting in the kitchen. His mum did however lay into him about the mess he left in the sink, his reasoning falling on deaf ears. Apparently “I have been in Tokyo for the past two weeks” isn't a good enough excuse.
Now, Akira sits on his bed, hunched over while he talks to Sojiro on the phone. He can almost hear Makoto now nagging at him over his posture.
Over the span of a few hours, he tells him about the empty countryside and the nightmares and that night with Ryuji where he bared all his emotions. He leaves out all the mushy stuff he’s sure Sojiro won’t want to hear.
He tells him he wants to stay in Tokyo.
“If you’ll have me of course.” Akira adds. Sojiro inhales sharply and lets out a small chuckle, almost like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“I would love to have you. I’m sure the others wouldn’t be too fussed either.”
Akira internally cheers. He already knew what the answer would be, Sojiro has offered up the room to him multiple times, but it sends a pleasant shiver down his spine to know he’s genuinely wanted somewhere.
The very next day, he’s loading all his belongings into Sojiro’s backseat and boot while his parents are at work and they’re setting off back to Tokyo. Morgana buries himself into a small cleft between two bags in the backseat and dozes off. Akira can feel the anticipation buzzing in his bloodstream.
Akira leaves a note for his parents on the kitchen table with a short explanation and his new number at the bottom of the sticky note. He doubts they’ll reach out to him though.
Sojiro tells him to get some rest before they arrive. Akira protests at first but eventually gives in to the pull of sleep. The sun warms him inside and out and the carseat is surprisingly comfortable. He doesn’t wake up even when his phone goes haywire with notifications from his excitable blond boyfriend.
Akira sleeps the whole drive to Tokyo and even when they park next to LeBlanc, he’s still out cold. Sojiro leaves him to rest to bring his bags inside and set them in his room for him to unpack later. When he returns, Akira is blinking the bright sunlight out of his eyes.
“Up and at ‘em, kid. Let’s get inside, yeah?” Akira takes the hand Sojiro offers, only to be yanked out of the car and onto his feet. He stumbles a little but gradually takes in his surroundings. The anticipation is back at full force.
Sojiro turns the key in LeBlanc's lock and steps inside, standing to the side to let Akira in. The lights are off, the tables are clean and all the chairs at the counter are pushed in. He takes a deep breath, the familiar smell of coffee almost comforting. It’s good to be back.
“3, 2, 1…”
The lights flicker on and confetti lines his vision. Futaba, Haru and Makoto stand to his left, party poppers in hand, while Ann and Yusuke stand behind the counter wearing the biggest grins he’s ever seen. Ryuji stands in front of him with his arms spread wide.
Akira wastes no time in sweeping his boyfriend into his arms and burying his face into the crook of his neck. Ryuji laughs loudly, pecking the side of his head and returning the embrace with the same amount of vigor.
Futaba makes gagging noises behind them, Makoto sends her a warning glare. Haru bounces over to them to give Akira a soft hug, Ann nearly knocks him over from behind when she tackles him. Yusuke gives him a firm pat on the shoulder.
Sojiro’s chuckling behind the counter, hands deftly tying his apron. “Let him breathe, you lot. Go put your apron on.”
Time ticks by quicker than Akira would have liked it to, Ryuji wondrously watching him make curry from scratch from his seat at the counter. He listens to the chatter between his friends as he stirs the meat and vegetables around the pot, huffing amusedly at Ann’s irritated squawk.
Sojiro soon kicks him out of the kitchen, bringing the pot over to the middle booth with a tower of plates and leaving the group to dig in. Akira takes careful spoonfuls while Ryuji inhales his meal, choking when a piece of meat gets lodged in his throat. Futaba calls him a dumbass and he flips her off through his coughing fit.
By the end of the night, he has Ryuji’s arm slung around his waist and a sleeping Futaba in his lap. Haru, Makoto and Yusuke all left early to catch the last train and Ann is trying her hardest not to fall asleep in the seat across from them, head bobbing up and down as she dozes.
Sojiro is starting to lock up for the night, putting away clean plates and cups and weighing out rice for the morning. He peers over at the small group and huffs amusedly at Futaba curled up in Akira’s lap. Ryuji has her glasses perched on top of his head.
Sojiro grabs his coat and hat and taps Futaba awake, dodging a poorly-aimed kick from the girl. She crawls out of the booth, leaning against Sojiro’s side sleepily. Ryuji throws sugar packets at Ann’s head until one of them smacks her in the forehead and she jolts awake, glaring at Ryuji who’s trying not to laugh.
Ann scooches out from the booth and gathers her things, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder with a sigh. Futaba moves from Sojiro to Ann, wrapping her arms around the blonde’s waist. Everytime Ann tries to move, she complains and tightens her hold.
Sojiro invites Ann to stay, Shibuya is too far away this late at night, and Futaba lets out a garbled cheer. The blonde agrees, plucking Futaba’s glasses from Ryuji’s head, and they shuffle out the door together.
Sojiro watches them stumble around fondly and chuckles, pulling out his keys to lock the door behind him but stops in the doorway. Ryuji nudges Akira and the dark-haired boy glances up to see Sojiro smirking at him knowingly.
“Welcome home, Akira.”
The man leaves, locking the door with a sharp click. Akira sucks in a breath, willing his sudden tears to go away. Ryuji catches his expression and coos, holding his face in his palms like he’s the most precious thing in the world.
“You can cry, I won’t tell anyone.”
“Shut up.”
Akira pouts in fake annoyance, sniffing noisily. A couple of stray tears drop down his cheeks and across the backs of Ryuji’s hands. The blond wipes them away with his thumbs. He beams at Akira and Akira blows out a breath into Ryuji’s face, making his boyfriend grumble and remove his hands from Akira’s face to intertwine their fingers
Ryuji moves out from the booth, dragging Akira out behind him, and they head upstairs to get into bed. Akira immediately puts his head in the crook of Ryuji’s neck and Ryuji wraps his arms around Akira’s waist.
“Did you enjoy our li’l party?”
“Mm…”
“I planned it, y’know.”
Akira pecks Ryuji’s collarbone and rubs his face into the skin there. Ryuji chuckles and holds his boyfriend closer. Their legs tangle together and Akira can’t help but bask in the warmth the blond provides.
“You’ve had a big day today ‘Kira, go to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”
Akira mumbles incoherently, humming at the pecks Ryuji presses against the crown of his head. Ryuji peels him away for a moment to take off Akira’s glasses that dig uncomfortably into his shoulder, Akira groans and grumbles and instantly returns to his spot in Ryuji’s neck when he lets go.
“...Love you.”
And he’s out cold. Ryuji chuckles adoringly.
“I love you too, ‘Kira. Goodnight.”