Chapter Text
Exhaustion was... well, a bitch. Akira learned that the second he ran out of stamina in the Palace and they had to regroup. Emphasis on had, because Akira didn’t really want to. He thought he could just swing by with his gun and knife, or use Raoul’s Life Aid to get his energy back up.
But... That would really only work for so long, and someone was bound to figure it out eventually. Notice how his swings were getting more and more sluggish, or how he would lose focus during their strategy meetings in the safe rooms. How his arm would shake when he would use it to raise his gun, or how he was a bit slower than usual when it came to ambushing Shadows. He’d tried to brush it off, but in the end... Well, he could really only go so far and so much before he started running on autopilot, and by then, Futaba had gained notice.
He just... wasn’t used to the exhaustion. Sure, Ren had run out of stamina quickly, but he was strategic in how he used it. If it was getting low, he’d use abilities that drained him of his life force instead of ones that spent stamina, and would have the others heal him when needed. Not only that, but he had the energy of the Arcana behind him. If he got too tired, he’d simply swap to a Persona of an Arcana that had a higher “rank”, and that bond would give him energy to push forward.
And while Akira... wasn’t... Ren... he still remembered those experiences. They were hazy, sure, but still there. Maybe if he had the Arcana behind him, then it’d make everything better. Maybe he’d be a proper leader again.
“Senpai, you should really tell us if you’re getting tired.” Sumire chided lightly, now standing in front of him since they were outside the Palace. “We can always come back at a later date, you know.”
Akira shrugged and turned his attention to the road. The pretty lights oddly soothed him, and the weird faces on the backside of the cars made him smile a bit. “...But we have that deadline.” He tried to point out, though when he glanced at Sumire, she didn’t appear to have caught what he said.
“Um... Could you... say that again?”
Akira let a breath fall out of him, and then another when he spotted the way his breath puffed out in front of him like a cloud. “I- I said...” He swallowed a bit thickly, and shuffled his feet around. This was Sumire, who was a friend. She wasn’t a stranger, so he could trust her. There was no need to be nervous. “W-We- We still have that- that, um... d-deadline...?”
Despite the way his voice practically changed pitches at the end, Sumire seemed to have heard him that time. “You’re right.” She nodded at him, and lifted her attention to the streetlights above them. “But that doesn’t mean you should overexert yourself. Plus, Morgana-senpai and Futaba-senpai said we’re getting close to... something. We made a lot of progress today.”
But not enough, Akira’s mind practically screamed. Futaba and Morgana hadn’t said they were halfway through the Palace like they usually did with Ren, did they? Did they say they had secured the infiltration route immediately on the first day, like Ren used to do? No. No they hadn’t. And that was the issue. Akira hadn’t done well enough as leader. He’d barely dragged them to less than halfway through, and that wasn’t even counting the previous time they’d been in the Palace. It just... wasn’t enough.
“...Mhm.” He settled for barely hums as a reply, because he didn’t really trust his voice right then. His hands were already shaking, and he didn’t need this... sad-esque feeling... to affect his voice either. Because then he’d get bombarded with questions about ‘oh, are you cold, Senpai?’, ‘Is everything alright?’, or ‘What’s wrong?’ and he didn’t know if he could handle that. He was fine, truly... mostly, anyway. But thoughts like that were normal, and he’d become used to it. Plus, he didn’t even know if there was anything wrong. He was fine... Probably just some effect of Maruki’s influence, and- okay, don’t cry. Deep breaths-
“You should get some rest, Senpai.” Sumire luckily broke the near-silence before Akira tumbled down the rabbit hole, “We can regroup tomorrow.”
Akira nodded quietly. Right, tomorrow at the hideout... he could do that. This whole thing would be over by tomorrow, surely? Yeah. He could just go relax in the bathhouse and let all his worries melt away in the burning hot water and go down the drain. Wash away his worries, if he wanted to get all technical. Technical... Like landing a knockdown onto a Shadow that was under some status ailment, which was suuuuper easy with Raoul’s Phantom Show. High chances of landing Sleep to all Shadows opposing them? Heck yeah, he’d be using it! It made for good teamwork with Sumire or Akechi too, since both of them were craaazy with Physical damage, which meant for more Hold Ups and All-Out Attacks! It was a perfect strategy!
“...Senpai? Did you hear me?”
“Huh? What?”
Sumire smiled at him. Her usual smile too, which Akira... wasn’t too sure what that meant, in that context. “I said we should get home.”
“O-Oh... Y-Yeah...” Akira looked down and kicked the back of his heel. “M-Mhm...” He turned to face where the rest of the Phantom Thieves were conversing among themselves, and... Were- Were there always that many? There didn’t seem to be that many before. They all looked like strangers all of a sudden, and it was almost terrifying. The only face he felt he recognized was Akechi. Well, Sumire too, but that didn’t really count since she wasn’t really among the group he was facing.
Why... Why did they all look like strangers? They- They still had their bonds, didn’t they? They were still teammates, if not friends, so... Why- Why didn’t they look familiar anymore? Was it because he’d lost the Arcana? That- It... But... Why did he recognize Akechi and Sumire, if that was the case?
“U-Um...” The air was suddenly tight, and it was frankly hard to breathe. Strangers. Strangers that he knew, but didn’t know. Strangers that were his teammates, and maybe even possibly friends. Skull, Panther, Fox, Queen, Oracle, Noir...
“Whoa-” Ryuji(?) stumbled forward until Akira backed himself up, in which he stopped entirely. “Uh... You alright, Renren?”
Some weird sound escaped Akira, not that he knew what it was. Something that sounded like a cross between a bird and a dolphin, maybe.
“You idiot!” The loud and spiky words were accompanied by Ann smacking Ryuji’s arm. “Get with the program!”
“Ow!?” Ryuji’s recoil seemed more like a jump. “The hell, man? I didn’t do anything!”
A loud sigh came from behind Akira, and then something touched his shoulder. If he had been bodily present, he would’ve screamed and jumped away, most likely. “You can’t use that nickname anymore.” Morgana’s voice said. He sighed again, and then his fur rubbed against Akira’s ear. “Are you alright, Akira?”
“M-Mhm...”
Morgana’s third sigh didn’t really indicate that he was convinced, though. “...Akira needs to rest.” He mewed to the rest of the group. “So let’s call it and head on home, okay?”
That was... what Akira had meant to say, before that weird feeling came back. It had been so hard for him to say that, because what if these people didn’t want to leave just then? What if they wanted to stay, or they didn’t like his ideas anymore because he wasn’t Ren? What if they preferred to have Ren, instead of whatever Akira was? What if-
“Whoa, Akira.” Morgana was now sitting in front of him on... someone’s hands. Futaba’s, he assumed. The not-cat-thing lifted his paws up to his face as if to ground him, and was then brought closer. “Deep breaths, okay?”
Akira just... nodded. Again. He knew that a simple gesture like that wouldn’t do anything to reassure Morgana, but he just... couldn't do anything else besides that. His mouth wouldn’t open, and his voice just wouldn’t work, no matter how hard he tried. He did try for a smile, but he wasn’t too sure how much that helped assure Morgana that he was okay.
Morgana only spoke again once Akira blinked the life back into his eyes, and he was somehow... smiling? Despite being a cat... ish. His face looked like that “:3” emoticon that Futaba uses religiously.
“Okay, can you walk?” He asked, to which Akira nodded again . “That’s good. We should be able to get back to Yongen, in that case.”
“Right.” Futaba nodded from behind Morgana’s fluffy body, and did her little fist pump thing that she did. “Soooo... Let- Let’s gooo?”
“...Mhm.”
Akira found that gestures and simple hums were a lot easier than speaking. People usually always asked him to repeat himself when he spoke, because of the way he talked so quietly, but that didn’t really happen when he didn’t talk. None of the questions about why he talked so quietly, or why he couldn’t just speak up. It was a nice change of pace, especially when people didn’t expect too much of him. Neither Futaba or Morgana really expected him to give a reply to anything. Heck, Futaba even made a game out of it. Something like “Raise one hand for ‘yes’, and the other for ‘no’!” kind of thing. It also brightened Akira’s mood, so it helped a lot.
But also, when you have a newly recovered shut-in and someone as socially inept as Akira was, with the only rational person being the cat of all things, there was bound to be some bumps along the road.
“Look,” The dude behind the screen said again for probably the umpteenth time. “I’d just like to know what station you’re headed to so I can get you a ticket.”
Akira already had a ticket, due to the whole... probation thing, but apparently taking a cat on the subway without it being hidden in his bag was something that you needed to pay for. Futaba also needed a ticket, and he'd tried asking, but his own pass wouldn’t cover for her.
“I- I- That- That’s- U-Um...” Akira’s shoulders were still trying to go up, even though they were already at his ears. “We- We, um... Uh...”
“Deep breaths.” Morgana whispered to him. “You can do this.”
“I- I, uh...” Akira tried his best to lower his shoulders and loosen his grip on his bag. He took another deep breath, just like the cat had told him to, and managed to muster up some of that Joker confidence. “We- We’re headed to Y-”
“Y-Y-Y-Yongen-Jaya Station!”
The stammer-filled reply came from Futaba, of no surprise. Her gaze was intense when Akira turned to look at her, and it was honestly just even worse with the lighting and her glasses.
“We are headed to Yongen-Jaya Station, uh... S-Sir!” She continued to speak a bit above her normal range, which earned the attention of a loooot of people nearby. Akira didn’t appreciate that, but he was far too distracted by his... sister slash friend slash teammate person... thing.
The guy behind the desk just slowly blinked at her, clearly all too tired to be having to put up with a couple of teenagers that looked like they were just about to smuggle a cat onto the Tokyo subway. Poor guy, though. Hopefully his shift would end soon.
“Yeah,” He said, “Okay.”
Futaba was handed a ticket, and was then forced to pay for the pet fare. Morgana went and argued that he “wasn’t a pet!”, but if Futaba heard him, she happily ignored him. Akira smiled, on the other hand. He was technically (technical!) right in that fact. Morgana wasn’t a cat; he was a being made of humanity’s hope, and was created by Igor to guide... Ren. And to now guide Sumire, since she was the Fool... Should he maybe give him over to her, in that case? After all, he wasn’t the fated Trickster anymore... So wouldn't it make sense that the one meant to guide the Trickster should be with the Trickster, instead of the former one?
Something to think about, he supposed. But even still, he still did technically (!!!) possess the bond with Morgana, sans the Magician Arcana behind it. And Futaba and Sojiro already loved having Morgana around, so... maybe handing him over to Sumire wouldn’t be a good idea. Plus... maybe he also didn’t want Morgana to leave.
Akira frowned as he sat down on the seat beside Futaba, who was now scratching Morgana’s ears. Morgana was purring despite his protests to stop. He never did change, did he?
He remembered Ren being sad during the time Morgana had run away and lived with Haru. Both Ren and Akira had been, actually. It had been so bad on Akira that he wanted to curl up in bed and cry and sleep forever until he woke up and discovered that it was a dream. Ren, on the other hand, had been just as sad, but had kept going. Ren had kept going to school and going to the Metaverse and had put in effort to pursue Morgana because they were friends, and because seeing the empty spot beside his bag and feeling no weight on him as he slept hurt his heart. It had hurt Akira too, but he just... He didn’t remember having the energy to do all of that. All of his energy had been spent in wanting to cry and wanting to sleep. That drive to not rest until his friend was back was there, but he didn’t have the energy to act on it like Ren did.
“Hey, so...” Futaba’s words were accompanied by her poking his shoulder. “When do ya’ think we’ll be heading back into the Palace?”
“Um...” Akira shrugged as he scratched at his chin. Just another thing Ren was better at; time management. He based his day around chance and what happened when, but Akira couldn’t do that. “M-M-Maybe... t-tomorrow...?”
Futaba’s head tilt indicated that she didn’t hear him over the subway’s clacking. “...Er, what was that?”
Akira turned his head away as his breathing spiked and the air started to tighten again like it always did. His grip on his bag tightened as well, and he tried to blink away the spots forming on his eyes. Why did that happen? He just needed to speak up so Futaba could hear him... why was that an issue? Was it all the times he got yelled at to speak up, that it caused bad effects even now, when it was months later? All those times he was yelled at, for years by his parents, and even by the police as they tried and tried to force a confession out of him even after he repeatedly said he was innocent-
“He said that tomorrow might be a possibility.” Morgana gave the reply to Futaba in Akira’s stead, and his tail lightly flicked. Right, weird cat hearing... At least it came in handy sometimes.
“Oh!” Futaba turned back to Akira and nodded. She seemed almost... stiff. “Cool. Just... lemme know when we’re meeting up, then.”
...Definitely stiff. What was that about?
Akira just nodded again and turned to stare at the hooks swinging above him as he tried to regulate his breathing... again. The subway ride back to Leblanc was... oddly uneventful when it came to most things, though Akira supposed he should have expected that. But on roughly the same token (token? That was a weird word... why was it shaped like “doubloon”?), he was on a train with the Futaba Sakura, who was (was?) Medjed, and the weird not-a-cat thing that was Morgana. Was he wrong to expect some form of chaos along the way, like Futaba yelling at some weird Flappy Bird variant on her phone for being “so cheap and hard!” and for Morgana to... maybe get chased around by that dog over there?
Well. Morgana being chased wouldn’t really be nice, so... maybe not that. At least, that’s what Akira thought. The remnants of Joker in the back of his head, though? He thought differently. He thought differently. Joker thought it’d be funny, and would probably even record Morgana running around the train car with his fur all poofy like a raccoon.
Such a thought made Akira swallow thickly and shift around in his seat that had now become uncomfortable. How was that him? How was that very evil and rude thought technically his own? He wasn’t like that... right? Ren might’ve been, because Ren was the type of chaotic to challenge Akechi to drinking like, what, five cocktails and whoever lost had to pay for the bill? Of course, Ren had lost, but the point was... probably still there. There was something about both Ren and Joker’s collective chaotic energy that Akira felt he didn’t really share. He was nothing like either of them, which only made some sense.
Being unlike Ren made sense, because if he wanted to be technical (!!!), then Ren Amamiya never really... existed. He was a fabrication of existence created by Maruki to make Akira be blind to his situation and forget all his past issues, as much as it hurt to say that.
But being unlike Joker...? That didn’t make even half as much sense to Akira. Joker was himself when they were in the Metaverse, and the technical (!!!) embodiment of his innermost thoughts. The conscious version of his subconscious... ish. So why were they so different? Akira himself wasn’t a mask, so to speak, so it wasn’t that the shyness he carried in reality was an act. No, it was definitely real. What kind of person faked social anxiety and a stutter, anyway? That just seemed kind of insensitive...
But anyway, what was that train of thought about again... Ren? No, he already thought about him and how he... wasn’t... real... Oh! Joker. Right, Joker. Akira wasn’t the “act”, so to speak... but he could be almost certain that it wasn’t Joker, either. At least, not really. He remembered Joker having just a tad more confidence than that of Ren, back when Ren was still active, and he would even literally laugh in the face of danger and enjoy when a Shadow would hit him. He was weird like that... The type of guy to point a gun in the face of a Shadow and casually go like “I will shoot if you don’t give me what I want.” and be unfazed by it. Joker was intrigued by executing Shadows with the various methods in the Velvet Room, and would even challenge Caroline on her beliefs way back when. But earlier... “Joker” had been different. Akira remembered being more confident in his decisions when behind the mask and acting as leader than he ever was in reality. There wasn’t any masochism in Joker like before, but instead the urgency to end battles rather than heal and waste his teammates’ stamina. Life Aid really did aid his life in that sense, and kept him alive enough to keep fighting against even tougher Shadows with the red auras that made them look constantly pissed.
So... Why was he so different from Ren and Joker? As far as he could tell, he had always been like this... Well, partially. The stuttering and hushed voice had begun when he was twelve. He was rather loud as a kid.
...Was that where Joker came from? The rambunctious and energy filled child that Akira used to be, who was far too ignorant to his parents’ arguing and yelling because he was always hanging around that department store and running around Yasoinaba with the mascot of that department store? What was its name again?
A girl filled his mind rather suddenly, one that was heartachingly familiar to Akira, but unfamiliar to Ren. A girl who wore pinks and whites and had her hair tied up in little pigtails that Akira liked to imagine would flap like an angel’s wings whenever she was happy and smiling. Younger than Akira, but they had been rather familiar with each other despite that. He smiled at the memory of helping her with her homework, and in turn having her older brother help him with his homework.
“Everyday’s great at your Junes...”
That smile of his soon faded, though. Now that he was thinking about it, Ren had been given a false childhood and false memories to go along with it. Memories of parents that he wasn’t even sure were real, of friends he couldn’t recall the names of, and of a town that definitely wasn’t Inaba. Which meant... what? He’d forgotten about everything. Forgotten about Inaba and Junes, forgotten about the Dojimas and Narukami... everything. How could he just forget about all of that? How could he just happily forget them and live on as if they’d never even existed, when they were the ones that helped shape him into who he was to begin with?
Akira sank downwards in his chair and stared at the bright lights. They made funny shapes dance over his eyes, but he really couldn’t find the energy to chase after them like always. His grip on his bag tightened again, thoroughly crushing his schoolbooks and his pencil case. At least Morgana was in Futaba’s hands and not his, because he felt he might just kill humanity’s hope if he was holding onto him. It just... it didn’t make sense, that he’d be able to so easily forget about the people he’d held onto in the past in favor of a happier life. He almost wanted to apologize to them for being such a dumbass and beg them for forgiveness. He wanted to go back home to his shitty parents and just be at home in a place that was familiar. A place with remnants of people that just Akira knew, where no one expected him to act with the same amount of impossible confidence that Ren used to have.
He breathed out slowly and looked to his left, where Futaba and Morgana were just happily chatting away about something he wasn’t tuned in enough to hear. Futaba’s erratic hand movements threatened to knock Morgana off her lap occasionally, but otherwise, they seemed to be having a good time.
Was it wrong that seeing them so happy hurt? Not just in the way that Akira enjoyed seeing them happy, and would probably shoot a god in the face himself just to keep those smiles there, but in the way that it... it just hurt. Futaba had seemed so stiff when speaking with him, yet she seemed fine to talk to Morgana in her usual Futaba way.
...Was there something wrong with him, or something? His heart sank at the thought that maybe Futaba didn’t like Akira. Maybe she preferred Ren’s company to his stupid awkwardness that he really needed to get over, and she was just being too nice to say that. She didn’t like this version of him, and she wanted Ren back, but she knew she couldn’t have him because Phantom Thieves fought for freedom and for justice, so sending him back to Maruki to be actualized again would be the exact opposite of what she stood for. After all, she had asked for help to escape her own issues, so why would she expect anyone else to do the opposite and live in blissful ignorance of them for the rest of their life? No way she could push that double standard on anyone, no siree.
He did understand, though. No one liked Akira, not even Akira himself. The way he talked to birds and housepets like they were people, or how he apologized for running into furniture because they had feelings too, or how he heard sounds or tasted or felt things when it came to certain words or foods or even people. No one liked how he would claim the word “sparkle” came from fairies, or how he thought Leblanc’s curry tasted like what a home should taste like, or how Morgana tasted like mint.
No one around him liked Akira. They all preferred to have Ren, and he was honestly in agreement there. No wonder Akechi loved his rivalry with Ren, because Ren was perfect and the exact opposite of Akira. Where Akira stuttered quietly, Ren spoke with confidence and with perfect tone. Akira slouched, and Ren... well, Ren had better posture, but he still slouched a bit. Neither of them had anything on Ryuji, though. Even Igor and Lavenza preferred Ren over Akira, because why else would they strip him of his Trickster abilities and hand them off to Yoshizawa? Simply because Akira wasn’t as good as Ren, what with how the Guillotine, Gallows, and Electric Chair all terrified him and he swore he could feel the Personas pain every time. Who would want a Trickster who flinched at every loud thing and couldn’t even speak higher than a whisper?
No one. That’s who. Everyone hated Akira, especially Akira himself. And everyone wanted Ren back, including Akira.
“Yo.”
Akira yelped and jumped into the person sitting on his other side, which earned him a rather disappointed sigh from whoever that was. He quickly hopped back into his seat and looked back toward Futaba, who also looked a bit spooked.
“Sorry.” She mumbled as she retracted her hand from the empty air between them. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I-I-It...” Akira just trailed off and shook his head instead. He hated that, how he got so stuck on words and couldn’t ever get a full sentence out when he needed to. Just another thing to hate about Akira, he supposed.
“...Right.” Futaba stood up with Morgana hanging off her arms and pushed her glasses up her nose. “Well, we’re here.”
Akira blinked. He must have spaced on the voice announcing the arrival to Yongen-Jaya station. Ren wouldn’t have done that. Ren paid attention to everything and every little detail. Ren didn’t actually need his glasses to be able to see. How Maruki managed that, he really didn’t know, but he did know that life without portable eyesight that needed daily cleaning was a gift from god itself.
He stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder, which was when Futaba turned to leave through the now emptying train car. Akira didn’t leave immediately, however, and remained behind for a second or two to bow at the woman he’d jumped into and somehow manage to mutter an apology. People looked at him weird for it, so he quickly skittered out of the train car and after Futaba, who had somehow already boarded the escalator. He raced after her and just for good measure, had her stay on the inside of the sidewalk when they left the underground. She didn’t protest, oddly.
With his exhaustion now catching up to him, along with whatever dysfunction he’d gained from thinking on the train, everything felt like “too much”. Something as simple as making sure he didn’t step off the sidewalk and into traffic was “too much”, walking was “too much”, and now even the thought of going to the bathhouse seemed like “too much”. So no showering or relaxing in the bath for him. He’d just have to go to sleep and hope that maybe, tomorrow would be another day and he could shower then.
Wait, hadn’t he promised that they’d go to the Palace tomorrow?
...Fuck. Okay, he’d have to shower after gym class and after going to the Palace. And that was in the hopes that he didn’t burn himself out again.
At least talking to Sojiro didn’t feel awkward anymore. When Akechi had come along to make sure he was okay, Futaba had tried her best to explain the situation along with Akechi himself. Akira had honestly spaced out on most of it because he had been struggling to tell what was real and what was fake at the time (and he was still finding that hard), but they had gone out of their way to explain it in his stead. Sojiro hadn’t really understood most of it because he didn’t know that much about the Metaverse, but he hadn’t acted that differently toward Akira than he did to Ren. Well, now Akira could actually hear the mention of the probation thing and he had to ask a few questions regarding that because... Ren didn't remember it being explained to him.
There was still the occasional question about what Akira preferred to eat, but it honestly wasn’t that different from Ren’s choices of food. Only difference was, Ren could handle spicier food without much issue. Akira, on the other hand...
He felt like some stupid stereotypical nerd, with his stutter and slouch, the way he was quiet, and how he preferred reading or playing games to talking to people that he didn’t have to. The way he was easily spooked, or how he was always apologizing... But there was more to him than that, right? Ren had both himself and Joker, and Akira was... also like that? He also had Joker with him, though the specifics about which one he really was, was currently a mystery.
“...G-Gonna s-s-stay for c-curry?” He asked when they reached Leblanc, and sank into his usual seat while Sojiro went to warm up some curry for him.
“...Nah.” Futaba shook her head at him. It made him frown just a bit, how she didn’t even bother to sit down, as if she’d only be there for a few minutes. “I got some stuff to check in Mom’s cognitive psience books before I crash.”
Akira’s frown threatened to deepen. She was still so stiff... though he couldn’t be too sure how he knew that or why. She seemed fine... but there was something in his gut telling him that she was off. Like the part of his heart that still kept hold onto the Hermit Arcana and Ren’s bond with Futaba.
“But you’ll eat at home... right?”
“Of course I’ll eat when I get home!” Futaba smiled and did her little finger wag thing that she did. “I’d go miles in the desert for just a taste of Sojiro’s curry and his cocoa!”
Sojiro chuckled from behind the counter and rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s not that good, is it?”
“Ummm, yes it is?” Futaba looked practically insulted, “It wouldn’t be my staple food if it wasn’t as good as it is!”
“...Guess that’s true.”
Sojiro placed the plate of warm curry and rice in front of Akira, to which he just smiled as “thanks”. Sojiro smiled in return, and it made Akira feel warm in his chest. That was something he felt was different with Sojiro than with everyone else he had a bond with; Sojiro was the same to him as he was to Ren. Better yet, he never really expected him to give a verbal reply either, and somehow always managed to see beyond the smiles and gestures he gave as replies instead. It was such a large contrast compared to his own parents...
He loved Sojiro as if they were blood related, not that he could ever bring up the courage to say that outright. Hell, he almost wished they were related... but then that meant he wouldn’t have his own parents anymore. Not that they were the best , but... well... they raised him, didn’t they? He just couldn’t find it in his heart to really want to leave them, even if being out in Tokyo with Sojiro was so much better than that home. He couldn’t even hate them either, despite everything they’d done.
“If you need anything, I’m just a phone call away, got that?”
Akira nodded, and smiled again. He wanted to say... Well, he didn’t know what to say, but he wanted to say something. He owed that much to Sojiro, at least, and it hurt the glow in his chest to know that he couldn’t even figure out what to say.
Sojiro still didn’t expect him to reply verbally though, and patted his head on his way out with Futaba. It fixed the glow in Akira’s chest, and he happily kicked his feet as he began to eat his curry. He didn’t want it to get cold, after all... That’d just be rude to Sojiro after all, and it was way too good to not gobble up. Gobble gobble, like a turkey!
The coffee was something he was still unsure about, though. Ren liked it despite how bitter it was, but Akira... wasn’t as fond of that bitterness. Sometimes he’d add sugar to it and other things, depending on the type of blend, but he found that he was rather fond of this specific one he was drinking.
Plus... cocoa was better saved for when he was huddling in front of the heater in his room, at least in his opinion.
Speaking of his heater, he should check to see if it still had fuel, at least when he was done eating. Though even with how tired he was, he was still managing to eat, so... progress? Maybe?
As he sipped on the coffee and tried his best to flip the pages of a book with just one hand, his eyes wandered over to Morgana sitting on the stool beside him. Not quite asleep, but definitely ready to sleep when it was time to. His blue eyes were a bit cloudy, but otherwise still practically glowing against the buzzing lights of Leblanc. Were they actually glowing, or was it just an effect of the Metaverse? Could Sojiro see them glowing? Or were they just normal cat eyes to him?
...Could Morgana drink coffee? Akira figured it wasn’t something regular cats could consume without issues, but Morgana was always saying he wasn’t a cat, so... maybe it was okay? Ren still hadn’t given him any chocolate, though...
His head gained a bit of an incline, and he dropped the book onto the countertop. He slowly held his cup of coffee out to Morgana, who slowly blinked at him. On second thought, maybe this wasn’t a good idea, because if Morgana was as tired as he looked, the coffee would have him bouncing off the walls.
Morgana literally bouncing off the walls... Joker thought that was funny.
“Huh...?” Morgana rose to his feet and batted his paw at the coffee. “What’s up?”
Akira, rather than shake his head and put the coffee back down on the counter like any normal person would do, instead nudged the cup at Morgana again. Hopefully, he understood what he meant...
“You... want me to try some?”
Akira nodded almost insistently, and smiled as he tried to ignore the dread burning in his gut. Or maybe that was the curry. He wasn’t sure.
Morgana appeared to shrug, and leaned to take a sip. Akira wasn’t even sure if Morgana had actually drank the coffee itself or just tasted the smell, but either way, his reaction was less than happy. His face twisted in at least seven different ways, and he recoiled so far back that he nearly fell off his chair.
“Ough, disgusting!” A shiver ran down Morgana’s tiny body, all the way down to his tail. “How can you stand to drink that!?”
Some part of Akira’s mind (Joker) thought it was funny, and if he was being honest, it was funny. But that didn’t stop him from being just a bit worried about his friend. He reached over and patted Morgana’s head and tried for a smile, though that was a bit harder than it should’ve been, since he was trying so hard to stifle his laughter.
“...Sorry.” He managed to murmur, and he even scratched Morgana’s ears for good measure.
Morgana just shuddered again, as if trying coffee was the most traumatic experience he’d ever experienced. “I’ll just stick to water, thanks...”
Akira’s smile turned a bit sympathetic, and he pulled his friend into his lap. Despite Morgana’s protests, he still leaned to be pet when Akira tried to pull his hand away. Well, if he wasn’t a cat... he could certainly fool Akira into thinking he was one. His fur was so soft, and clearly well taken care of, even without human intervention. A weird not-a-cat thing that tasted like mint, who he happened to share a room with. What an odd place Leblanc was, filled with a teenager who’d been living a fake life for almost a year now, a cat that also happened to be made from the pure hope of humanity, the owner who had basically adopted every single one of the Phantom Thieves, and then occasionally the Phantom Thieves themselves took refuge there.
When had this place gone from a regular coffee shop to a hideout for the Phantom Thieves of Hearts, exactly? Or more accurately, when did the place go from a coffee shop to a home?
Thoughts to think about.
It was fairly dark out by the time Akira finished his coffee and curry, so he had quickly dragged both himself and Morgana upstairs for bed. Normally, Ren would do the dishes and then go to bed, but with everything that had happened and the fact that he was still recovering, Akira really didn’t have the energy for it. He wanted to do it, but he couldn’t, just like the bathhouse. He’d run out of metaphorical spoons for the day, and he just had to hope that he would have enough to do everything he wanted to do tomorrow.
Everyone knew. There was no way they didn’t.
All the whispering when he was in class, whispers that he was now aware of. Things like how quiet he was or how he kept touching his phone every so few minutes, which wasn’t his fault because class was so boring and he kept spacing out more often than not because it just wasn’t interesting. There were even whispers about how he’d almost fallen over in the middle of gym class because his back pain had gotten that bad since he’d fallen asleep on the floor in front of his heater again. Luckily Ann had been there to help him up, but that didn’t mean that it hadn’t happened.
Akira sometimes wished that he still possessed Ren’s blissful ignorance to the whispers and rumors, at the very least. That would’ve made his day so much better.
It would have been so much better if he could have just stayed as Ren. If his curiosity hadn’t gotten the better of him a few weeks ago, or if Akechi hadn’t approached him in Leblanc, then maybe it would all be fine. He could have just stayed Ren for the rest of his life, if he hadn’t ruined it.
“Stay true to yourself.” Raoul whispered into his ear, as if Akira hadn’t already heard that statement from himself at least a million times already. “Would your sense of justice truly allow you to go back to that?”
No, it wouldn’t. But still...
“Would you risk the freedom of your friends just so you could have chains shackled onto you once more?”
Well... No, but...
“The road to freedom isn’t as easy as you might think. It requires sacrifice, in order to break free from the chains that should bind you. As hard as it may be to return to things like this again, you will be rewarded.”
Akira sighed. Yeah, he had heard that speech before. Raoul had clearly said that they would take back their life when they had been in the Palace yesterday... But that didn’t mean as much when it was so hard.
Well. At least he got to shower in the locker rooms, so there was a silver lining. Lunch wasn’t so bad either, even if Ryuji and Ann were being a bit weird. Sumire had gladly come to sit with them though, but only for a few minutes. Something about needing to stretch for gymnastics that day...? He wasn’t sure, but he did feel a bit of a tug on his heart when she left. Sumire was one of the people that had seen firsthand what had caused Maruki to “help” him, and she had even gone out of her way to reach out to his friends in hopes that they’d help rescue him and take down Maruki.
He felt really close to her due to that, as odd as it may have been. He felt close to Akechi as well, but he didn’t see Akechi as often in his daily life as he did with Sumire. He hardly answered his texts, and Akira didn’t really like calling people because that required talking, and he didn’t like talking. Hell, he’d already had to deal with being asked questions in class and knowing the answer, but being unable to say it. Thankfully he had Ann, but a part of him did wish he didn’t have to rely on her so much.
By the end of the school day, there were a headache-inducing amount of new rumors circling Akira, and he was really considering begging Sojiro on his knees to homeschool him. Of course, it wouldn’t work, since it was so close to the end of the school year, but he was still considering it. Homeschooling would be a much better alternative to all the rumors about how he was a robot that had replaced Ren. Not to mention the whole thing surrounding every little change he had, like a change in handwriting (Ren’s was much neater) or how he dotted his i’s with firework sparks, or even how he’d started going by Akira again, though the latter wasn’t much issue due to Maruki’s cognition thing. As it turned out, every time he’d heard “Ren Amamiya”, people were actually saying “Akira Kurusu”, and he just hadn’t heard it.
With the Phantom Thieves, though... things were different. It didn’t take a genius to know that Maruki had Actualized every person Akira made friends with into thinking that he was Ren Amamiya. His name would be all funky on the school newspaper, and anyone who looked at his student ID would see “Amamiya, Ren” rather than “Kurusu, Akira”, at least until Akira had been broken out of the actualization. But still... It bothered him. It bothered him greatly to know that Maruki had just messed with the minds of everyone Akira had come across just to make sure that Ren lived and Akira didn’t.
He’d just... edited people’s cognition to his liking for months, and it bothered him. It hurt him in every way possible to know that innocent people had become victims to Maruki’s damn bullshit.
So, after school was over, he’d immediately sent a text to the group chat regarding heading into the Palace, because he was sick of this. Sick of the way Maruki had just bent everyone to his will like it was nothing, and he’d even turned a cat into a human because of it. They’d be changing his heart, and they’d be doing it immediately.
...Was what he thought. It was kind of hard to continue on in a Palace when there was a roadblock, no? A roadblock that required the team to dive back into Mementos, because of course nothing could be easy.
He’d tried to jump into Mementos immediately after they’d left the Palace in the first place, but practically the entire team had argued against it. Makoto, who was practically second-in-command at that point, had brought up the argument that they wouldn’t know what would be waiting for them if they went in immediately, so they should save their strength for another day and yadda yadda.
Akira had wanted to say that they’d be going into Mementos first thing the following day, but going a few days with uncompleted homework was starting to take its effect. There was also the fact that the last time they’d headed into Mementos, Joker had led the team to nonexistence, and... well...
That wasn’t actually still a possibility, but the chances being so low didn’t do anything to soothe Akira’s overwhelming paranoia. He just didn’t want a repeat of that, even if the current God of Control was too nice to do that. He didn’t want to be the leader that led his team into nonexistence again, especially not now that they had Akechi and Sumire. Sumire was still new to being a Phantom Thief, so for him to lead her specifically into a fate like that so early into her being a Thief of The Heart...
He wouldn’t do it.
But if they didn’t go into Mementos, then they wouldn’t be able to secure their infiltration route, and if it wasn’t secured by the deadline, then-
Deep breaths, Akira.
He ended up using his homework as a distraction, though it wasn’t as easy as it should have been. He knew most of the answers off the top of his head, or thanks to Ren’s notebooks, but when it came to answers he didn’t know... Well, he didn’t want to bother Ann again, so... he chose to bother Morgana instead. Rather unsurprisingly, Morgana was able to help, though that was probably because he’d inadvertently paid attention in class. He didn’t give him the answers though, and instead had guided him through it like a teacher would have. It was appreciated for the most part, but Akira had spaced out far too many times. It was a miracle how patient Morgana was with him.
Somewhere in the middle of all of that, Akira’s phone buzzed. He’d turned the sound off so he could study and do his homework properly, but he’d left the buzzing on just so he could make sure he was still receiving notifications.
He placed his pencil down and reached to grab the phone, which he turned on to see a message from the Phantom Thieves group chat. Curious, he swiped it open to see a single message from Sumire of all people.
Sumire:
So I know we’re not going to that Mementos(?) place tomorrow, but I’d still like to hold a meeting, if that’s alright with you all.
Akira frowned at the message, and then glanced at Morgana. He held the screen out for him to see, and rested his head on his desk. He already knew what he wanted to answer with, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t ask if Morgana wanted to attend the meeting.
“We can’t go.” Morgana said. “You have homework to do, remember?”
Akira nodded quietly, but then found himself humming. Well, if he couldn’t go... Then couldn’t Morgana go in his stead, and relay information back to him?
He typed a message into the bar and didn’t send it, but instead showed it to Morgana for approval.
“Hmmm... I guess I could.” Morgana’s tiny shoulders shrugged, and his tail flicked. “But can you do your homework on your own?”
Akira nodded, more surely that time. Yeah, he could. With the help of Ren’s notes, and the help of internet walkthroughs, he’d be just fine.
“Then, sure.” Morgana nodded as well. “I’ll gladly go in your stead.”
Akira smiled, and turned back to his phone screen. He edited the message, and then sent it and placed it down on the desk as he waited for a reply.
Akira:
I can’t attend, I have homework to do :c
Akira:
But don’t let that stop you!
Akira:
Morgana will be there for me, kk? :)
Sumire:
Got it, Senpai!
With a final “<3” message, Akira turned his phone off and looked back at his homework. He grabbed his pencil and pointed at a certain question, which Morgana leaned to get a better look at.
“Oh, this one’s easy!” Morgana made that ‘:3’ expression again, and his tail flicked with what Akira could only assume was happiness. “So, what it’s asking is...”