Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Akira woke up to the sound of his own snore. The jolt peeled his face off the history notebook sitting on his desk, a trail of spit stubbornly stretched from his mouth to the curb of his chin. His eyes wrinkled with sleep, and his brain was too foggy to unidentified the source of the icky wetness that clang to his skin. It took him a few seconds to realize were the origin of his discomfort was. When he did, Akira swept the saliva away with the palm of his hand, then cleaned it off on his sweatpants. His eyes felt heavy still, the sound of rain tapping at his window lulled his mind into submission. Automatically, he reached for Morgana, his roommate, boss and cat. His hand fell on Morgana's pillow instead. Catless, cold, engulfed with black and white fur. Akira sighed and sat back on his chair.

Morgana was probably downstairs with mom. Her lap had become his favorite place ever since they moved back from Tokyo.

A few bones popped as Akira stretched, standing from his cushioned chair. The sound of the TV downstairs penetrated the wooden walls of his home, even with his bedroom door closed. For a second, Akira considered going down the stairs, retrieve his cat and quitting his very successful study session, but as the rain fell and the clock hit midnight, his cellphone started to vibrate.

Akira pouted. The edge of his brain thought it was unlikely for someone to be calling him at this hour, or texting, but the larger gray matter just shrugged it off. Not much surprised him or poked at his curiosity nowadays. Or rather, he always tried to expect the unexpected so nothing threw him off guard.

He retrieved it from his pocket and brought the bright, flat screen to his face.

It was an ad of some kind. The luminosity blinded him slightly, but from behind his messy bangs, he could make some of it out. Some pop star on the rise, his brand new devout coming soon. His silhouette plastered at the center of the screen. There was a video attached to the message.

Akira arched his eyebrows at it. Who would fall for these scams, in this day and age? He had all the intention to trash the text, but the messenger app crashed on him instantly. The boy fumbled with his precious technology, incredulous at the fact that he hadn't opened up the new link on that sus text and yet it still got his phone messed up??

But his phone was fine. Even the scam likely text was gone.

It was 12:01 in the morning, and Akira went to rescue his furry friend from his mother's arms.

Third year in Yasogami High wasn't too bad. The only thing that was kind of a drag was that he had to climb so many steps up to get to class, then down to buy lunch, then up again to eat at the roof top, then down again to get back to class. And down some more at the end of the day to go back home. At least Akira got his steps on everyday. He didn't even count PE for his daily exercise anymore.

He could also take Mona with him if the cat would rather sleep in class instead of back home. His classmates were cool with Mona, and they kept him a secret from the teachers like back in Tokyo. But unlike Tokyo, they didn't ignore the cat, they actually asked Akira if they could pet him and bring him treats from home and stuff. Everyone's face would brighten up when they would see Akira's school bag randomly shake or meow.

Also. His classmates didn't isolate him. They talked to him, they asked him stuff. They made comments like "Damn, dude, sucks that some bastard sued you for nothing, but at least you got to go to the city!" or "We knew you would have never hurt anyone, Kurusu, you're too mellow of a guy." So that was cool. His "friends" were still his "friends", and he hanged out with them, going to Okina from time to time, but Akira mostly kept to himself.

After school, twice a week, he did go to the Cooking Club and spent most of those evening with his food acquaintances. He was a little surprised, when they met for the first time, that he was the only guy who signed up to participate.

"Wow," Said Morgana from inside his bag, "I guess the boonies are still rather conservative, huh?"

Some other guys showed up from time to time, but it was obvious that they were just trying to pick up girls. They never lasted long, for one reason or another.

But Akira remained, and he thoroughly enjoyed listening to his clubmates discussions, from recipes, to boys, to traditions and politics.

Akira liked Cooking Club a lot, even if he was mostly a fly on the wall who occasionally helped bring things down from high places.

"-that's so weird!" He heard the Club president say as he slid the door open. "I was just about to fall asleep and it woke me up, I thought it was important."

The girls gathered around the pres' working table, their phones in front of each member, forming a perfect circle of colorful rectangles.

"I was playing on my phone when I saw it." Said Maka, who somehow had gotten a new band-aid on her face. "Scared the hell out of me, and I dropped my phone on my nose...!"

It's so weird, they were all saying. It's so weird, it's so weird.

Akane punched Momo's arm. She looked as surprised as the girl who had received the aggression.

"I know what it reminds me of!" Akane proclaimed. "The Midnight Channel! Do you guys remember that??"

Oh yeah...! A few said. The what now? Said the rest.

"Gives me the same vibe." Akane explained without being asked, "Rainy night, alone. At midnight..."

Momo punched Akane's arm back.

"Does that mean dead people are going to start showing around town again?"

The room fell silent. Akira walked towards them, but he was no unwelcome shadow lurking in a corner. The girls made a little opening for him to join the Circle of Forgotten Cellphones on the table. He was one of the girls, and nothing made his little heart happier.

"Did you also get a text at midnight last night, Kurusu-kun?" Asked the Pres.

"Yeah." He said.

"Was it also the pop star?" Asked Momo.

"I think so." He poked at the ends of his messy hair.

They didn't wait for him to add to the conversation, they already knew he was a dude of few words. Instead, a first year asked:

"Did anyone open the link? With the video?"

"No!"

"No way!"

Most of them sounded outraged at the thought.

"I kind of wanted to..." The freshman confessed, "But I didn't! I know better."

That earned her some nods of approval, and some eye-rolls.

"But I'm sill curious though. What?? I like men with long hair, okay?? I'm not afraid to say it...!"

The room exploded with laughter, and more exasperated scoffs.

"Alright, everyone, that's enough chatter." The Pres. clapped her hands and the Gathering of Pocket Computers got dismantled.

Akira went to the table in the very back and sat on the stool, unloading his recipe notebook

and pencil case to write down today's quick meal.

"-What if he's cute??" He heard the freshman tell her table buddy.

Maka joined him, smiled, brought out her own notebook and began to doodle away.

"Today," Said the Pres, turning on the projector to present the recipe card, "We are making pancakes."

Breakfast for dinner.

They put the pancakes in the toaster oven, made some bacon and eggs, and had the heaviest dinner ever at 9pm.

"Could you imagine if dad saw this?" Mom smiled grimly.

Akira could easily picture his father unhappy face, looking down at the plate of food with utter disgust.

"Mmh." Was all he could muster.

The conversation was left at that. They ate with the TV on, because they had both agreed that 17 years of being forced to eat in awkward silence was enough torture, and they deserved some background noise to soften the empty spaces. Many rules had been revisited since Dad and Mom split. Morgana had his own plate on the table with them, for example. A feat that would have been unthinkable if Kasuma Karasu was still living under their roof. His chair in the dinning table now contained a stalk of WW2 books that he had never gone back to retrieve. Above the books, laid a folded blanket for Morgana to sit on.

"How's your food, Mona?" Mom asked Morgana, petting the back of his ears.

Morgana melted at her touch.

He was a purr machine, and it was hilarious.

"Guess he likes it." Akira commented, not doing much to hide his grin.

"Thank you for dinner tonight, kitty ." His mother turned to him, and pat his head with a flat palm. "Hm, who would have thought I'd ever have two cats in my house." She finished her plate, and left the table without excusing herself. From the kitchen she called out.

"Akira, leave the dishes in the sink. I'll wash them later."

Akira smiled and turned to look at Morgana, who smirked and said in English.

" Kitty ."

Akira stole a slice of Morgana's tuna, and the cat began to scream.

"Mom, take Morgana with you, he wants my food."

His mother returned from the kitchen and picked up Morgana from his makeshift throne.

"Monanona, you know you can't have people food." She coo'ed at him, cradling and trapping him within her motherly, muscular arms.

"Mom! No! He lies, he's lying! He stole my tuna! MY TUNA!"

She kissed the top of his little head and swooshed him away to the sofa.

Akira finished dinner, left his dishes in the sink, and went to sit besides his mother and cat.

They watched TV together, changing the channel every time an annoying ad came on. They would eventually settle on the international broadcasting with subtitles. Tonight, they were showcasing the Nordic countries, their cultures, their popular creations.

"I love that silly, little troll." Mom said, dreamily. " I just know that if I'd cut him in half, he'd just slice through like mozzarella cheese."

Akira snorted a laugh.

He was still getting adjusted to hearing his mother's intrusive thoughts.

"Bet he'd taste like it too." He added.

His mother wiggled a straight finger at him, which he knew meant affirmation.

They continued watching the show. Every so often one of them would point something out, or make a snarky comment, the other would hum or agree, and it was perfect.

Could you imagine if dad saw this?

Akira wouldn't think too hard about his father anymore because Father was out of the picture now. He had been ever since Akira return from Tokyo.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Akira's new copping mechanism.

It was still a work in process.

But it fit him like a glove.

"Hey, mom?"

A glove that belonged to someone else.

"Yes, kitty ?"

And who's hands were nothing like his.

"Do you remember that rumor from a while ago?"

The glove fit his pinky finger.

"The one about the Midnight Channel?"

Akira had a single glove, hidden inside a drawer of his desk upstairs.

"Midnight Channel?"

"Remember when I was in primary school, when some people disappeared and two women died?"

"What does that have to do with this Midnight Channel?" His mom asked slowly.

"There was a huge conspiracy theory that the people who went missing showed up on that weird show."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"And how do you know that? You were 11 years old, Akira."

"Yeah, but people still talked, and I can not not listen."

His mom gave him a flat look, and went back to watching the TV.

"Where is this coming from?"

Akira felt the butterfly wings flutter at the corner of his vision. It had been a while since he felt that way. That whatever words came out of his mouth would change the progression of his life.

But Mom had changed so much. She was cool. Would she forgive him if he said the wrong words? Could he go back and make it right?

"Some people were talking about it today in school. I was just-" He shrugged, " wondering what it was like for you, since you were an adult. I don't really remember."

Mom sighed, looking down at Morgana's sleeping blep face.

"It was scary. Nobody knew what was going on. The police were a mess, arrested people that weren't the culprits, like, twice."

"Did they ever catch the killer?"

"Yeah." She scoffed, "It was a detective from Inaba."

"Wow."

"Yeah, a real fucking jerk."

Akira was also getting used to his mother swearing in front of him.

When it was sleep time, they turned off the TV. Mom went to finish cleaning the dishes, and Akira had to scrape Morgana off the sofa cushions.

"Son." She called from the other room.

"Yeah?"

"You're not getting into any shady business again, are you?"

Akira tilted his head. Shady business always got into his life, no matter how much he tried to be a good boy.

"No, mom. I was just asking out of curiosity."

" Curiosity killed the ca t."

Morgana snored loudly in his arms.

" But satisfaction brought it back ." He replied.

He heard her scoff.

"I remember now. Do you know why high-schoolers were aaaall over that Midnight Channel?"

"No. Why?" He peeked his head around the corner, watching his mother's back.

"Cus it was supposed to show you your true love."

Akira frowned, and she turned to look at him.

"I guess that makes sense." Key detail that surprisingly his clubmates had not talked about.

"Have cupid's arrow struck you yet, son?

No amount of money could make Akira talk about his love-life at this time.

"Nah. Good night."

He shuffled upstairs, skipping steps for a faster escape. He swore he heard his mother chuckle as he hassled out of there.

But when Akira closed his bedroom door, flings and romance weren't on his mind. A sudden heaviness settled on his body, probably sown from the long day and working digestion. Akira laid down on his bed, leaving Morgana to rest on his fluffy pillow by the writing desk. His room was cold, and at some point while TV watching, drizzle had started to fall, obscurely becoming more dense as the night progressed.

Akira placed his fake glasses on his nightstand. It was only 10pm, and there was nothing for him to do but wait. He didn't feel like picking up a book, didn't feel like researching magic tricks on his phone. For some reason, his insides were both quiet and giddy. A feeling he had harbored before, multiple times, last year. Anticipation. Like something big was about to happen. The calm before the storm.

The quiet of his mind withheld the buzzing in his chest. Maybe the weird text had been just a prank. Maybe someone decided to play on that Midnight Channel biz to rizz up their social presence. Maybe Akira's out-of-sight-out-of-mind approach wasn't working, and he would always long for the magic that wasn't there anymore. But if Ichinose had awaken the Metaverse, why couldn't this be the same? Another God playing with human lives again. Joker had to be there to stop them, right?

Akira sighed. How could he learn to live a normal life if abnormality followed him everywhere?

Midnight Channel.

What was it? Could the rumors be true? Of course, not the ones about true love, that was nonsense. Could whoever be shown there truly be next on a kill list? Taking out a pen and notebook, Akira began to write down what he knew, what he theorized, and what was unknown.

Midnight Channel

• only appears on rainy nights/ 12am

• shows irl people

• some of them died, some disappeared then reappeared.

• true love

• Metaverse?

• morbid calling card? Not M-Verse related.

• who is being shown?

• why?

• where?

• by who? Evil ex-detective returns? revenge?

Looking at his thoughts written down, he could only wonder if his imagination was getting the best of him.

A headache was starting to pulse on his temple, sleep weighted his limbs. But he had to see it again. He had to pay attention, look for clues, find if anything actually lead to the Other World. Someone's life might even be in danger if it all was true.

He waited. Head on pillow, phone at the ready.

Just an hour and forty-six minutes left...

He decided that scrolling on his phone would eat up most of the time left. It worked. Next think Akira knew, he had forgotten all about his headache. Instead he learned about bird-mating rituals, and cake decorating tips. And many more fascinating yet random knowledge he'd gathered in the minutes before midnight.

23:45, Akira jumped out of bed, and began doing laps around his room. His phone was charging, on the nightstand, Morgana snored softly on his hairy pillow. Rain fell on the other side of the window.

Just a little longer.

The whiskers on Morgana's face twitched, and Akira watched him from the corner of his eyes. He hadn't spoken to the cat about the mysterious text yet. He thought, if the Midnight Channel is related to the Metaverse I'll talk to Morgana, there's no need to worry him if it's a false alarm.

He also looked so cute asleep, Akira wouldn't lose the opportunity to take pictures of his blep face and send it to his friends. Mona had just learned to go to sleep before Akira. As long as they were in the same room, Morgana wouldn't push him to go to bed too. Small victories.

The coo-coo clock downstairs struck midnight and began to sing. Akira shook the floor, crossing the whole of his room in four, furtive steps.

"Brrmp?" Morgana chirped, slowly awakening. But Akira had no time for cute noises. His nose was shoved into his phone, glasses pulled up to the crown of his head like a tiara.

"Joker?" The cat yawned.

The clock began to call the time. The coo-coo sang, marking the hours that had past.

A new message popped to Akira's phone. His fingers weren't fast enough, yet he didn't have to do anything. Like before, it opened itself. An invitation, a virtual flyer.

Akira scanned the invitation. The coo-coo sang out his fourth chime. On the lower left of the screen, there was a link. Akira didn't hesitate. He clicked it..

Immediately, his phone turned black, and came back to life.

"You didn't think I would be gone for so long, did you?" A pleasant voice chimed out.

A series of revolving lights danced over a darkened stage, a figure stood tall at the center, posing static, hand over their face. Cheerful music bleed from the phone, images of the idol's costumed body flashed on the screen. The figure began to dance at the beat of the music, each image teasing at the face of the dancer. His hair, his chin, the silhouette of his nose. The cupid's bow on his smiling lips. Akira's heart turned to stone, weighing him down, but it was just Morgana's body mass jumping on his shoulders. The cat gasped.

"Is that-!?"

"Sorry for the wait, everyone!" The camera twirled around him, and zoomed out. Rose petals fell from above.

The late Detective Prince extended his arms out, like a ring leader calling for applause.

Goro Akechi in the flesh.

Akira felt the world turn black.

But his ears still worked.

People were applauding. Whistling, cheering .

"Thank you for your patience! I'm so excited to be back! And I can't wait to see you all!"

Akira blinked repeatedly, begging his vision to return. Behind watery eyes, he saw Akechi's face, front and center of the screen. His smile... was sincere... At least, that's what he perceived from his lips and the tilt of his head, happy, yet humbled at the prolonged cheering. His eyes, Akechi's eyes, were concealed behind a thick, white band of cloth.

Akira swallowed hard.

"I've been working very hard for this comeback, so I hope you can make it to tomorrow's surprise meet-and-greet! There will be music, dancing, singing and so much more! I'll be waiting for everyone at Okina Station, but make sure to come early, you don't want to miss it...!" Akechi sent a flying kiss to the camera, and (probably) winked.

The phone turned black. Light returned from the corners of Akira's vision.

The boy didn't feel it slip from his hands, only heard the thump as it hit the bamboo floors.

He heard Morgana inhale deeply, holding his breath.

He heard his heart beating in his ears.

He felt the blood pump on his throat.

"Joker, breath ."

Akira exhaled. Long, deflating, and shaky breath. He let himself fall to his bed, hands holding his face.

"You saw that." He said to the cat. "I'm not. Imagining..."

"No." Morgana pressed a paw on his chest. "I saw it too. Whatever that was..."

The cat loafed on his chest, and Akira breathed. In and out, in and out... until he felt real again. He pressed a hand atop Morgana's little head, scratched behinds his ears.

"I'm alright."

"Sure you are." The cat huffed.

"Okina station."

Of all places. Okina City, Inaba's bigger, more popular neighbor. No way he was that close.

No way he's been that close all along...

"Akira. What was that?"

"I have no idea." He lifted Morgana off his chest, placing him on the bed. Akira sat and reached for his phone, and opened up his app list.

No Metaverse Navigation App...

"Not... from the Other World?"

He ignored the cat's curious glances as he opened his notebook to the Midnight Channel notes. He added:

No Metaverse.

No Nav App

"You've been investigating this without me??" The cat yowled.

Akira didn't know how to explain, so he remained silent, tapping the tip of his pen against the page.

Morgana rolled his eyes, his tail twitching with annoyance. Still, he perched on Akira's shoulder to take a closer look at the notebook's writings.

"Midnight Channel, huh? An urban legend?"

"People started talking about it at school yesterday, I didn't think... Years ago there were disappearances. It was after things settled down that people realized that those that appeared on the Midnight Channel were the ones disappearing... So. I thought. Maybe... All other conditions were met, minus the broadcasting on TV... Maybe it was related... What are the chances that this isn't just some killer with a unique calling card. But, Akechi..."

"That was really him, wasn't it, Mona?" With every word, a burning sensation spread across his chest. He did not know what the feeling meant. He didn't know how to stop it.

Morgana took a moment to reply, humming softly.

"It... could be him. It looked like him, and sounded like him... But, I mean, the way he acted... It was like his Detective persona, not him ."

"You're right..." Akira could feel his hands trembling, yet he kept his voice even. "That wasn't the real him. That blind over his eyes..."

"I don't like it either." The cat growled. "But we can't jump into conclusions. We have to investigate, find out more about this Midnight Channel."

"I'll ask in school. Maybe the teachers know something. Wait- He said not to be late, maybe I should skip-"

"No way, mister! Third year isn't the time to be playing hooky! Think about it. Most of Akechi's fans were high-school students, if he's having a meet-and-greet, it's going to be after school hours."

Akira pouted. "Can we trust this?"

"It's our only lead. And we need information about the Midnight Channel."

"...Alright."

"Get some sleep. It's late."

"I don't think I can." Akira confessed.

"I know... But you have to try."

Akira sighed. He turned off the lights, and weaseled himself in between the bedsheets. Morgana settled in the nook between his arm and chest, and they cuddled, foreheads pressed against each other. Akira was grateful for Morgana, letting his soft side show. Eventually, his hands lost on the soft fur of his kitty, the constant purr vibrating on his chest, the burn in Akira's veins dissolved, and they fell asleep.