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Sumire knew from the beginning that there was plenty that Akira wasn’t telling her.
Sure, she knew that he had faked his death. She knew that Akechi had something to do with it. She knew that the rest of the Phantom Thieves had been in on his scheme, and it wasn’t something that Akechi was particularly appreciative of. By the time Sumire was coming to know both of their alternate personalities – and, as it turns out, her own – they seemed to have at least somewhat resolved the lingering issues they had from whatever had happened.
Sumire hasn’t asked for more details than that. She doesn’t think it her place to do so. They’re her seniors, and it would be horribly rude to ask for information that wasn’t willingly volunteered. Especially something as sensitive as the past relationship between her two teammates. She can’t say that she doesn’t notice the way that Akira always seemed so tense around Akechi, and she can’t say she doesn’t notice the way that Akechi seemed to not exactly know what to say around Akira.
She almost wishes that she hadn’t noticed the way that Akira and Akechi always seem so uncomfortable around each other. Maybe then she would be able to proceed as though they were simply taking a fun field trip into the depths of someone’s psyche. Of course, even if she hadn’t noticed, this wouldn’t exactly be a fun field trip into someone’s mind palace, but Sumire can dream.
At first, back before the rest of Akira’s precious team had joined them and when she was still trapped so deep in her delusion that she couldn’t even begin to comprehend her own struggles, much less those of her teammates, Sumire hadn’t thought it was even worth mentioning. Sure, it meant the moments between battle were somewhat awkward and Sumire had to be the one to start most of the conversation, but it didn’t much get in the way.
Okay, it still doesn’t get in the way. Sumire knows that, logically, she should probably just leave it alone. It isn’t her job to resolve their issues – especially not when she can barely resolve her own – but they are the only two members of the Phantom Thieves that she has any sort of history with and, dammit, Sumire is not going to spend every single meeting from now until they defeat Maruki shifting awkwardly and watching Akira and Akechi grow more and more visibly uncomfortable until it’s finally time to leave. She’s had enough. Time to intervene.
First things first, Sumire needs the full story. She can’t do much in the way of getting them to work out their issues if she doesn’t know what those issues are, can she?
She almost wants to ask someone else. The other thieves must know what happened. But Sumire doesn’t think asking them for something so personal and clearly Earth-shattering is a good idea. Not when she’s barely known them for a month and they’re so clearly protective of their leader.
So, instead of interrogating one of his friends, Sumire sits down at the bar of Leblanc as the other thieves all stream out the door and waits for Akira to realize that she’s sticking around.
“Akira-senpai.” She starts, as soon as all the others have made their way outside. Even the cat – Morgana-senpai – has left. Perhaps he realized that Sumire has something important to ask their leader, and took the hint to make himself scarce before either of them had to ask him to leave. If so, Sumire is most certainly grateful. Asking Akira’s most trusted confidant to leave would have been a very awkward start to the conversation.
“Hm?” Akira seems just a bit startled by her declaration, though he quickly settles. “Yeah? Did you need something?”
“I wanted to ask you… about Akechi-senpai.” She says quietly, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the counter and cupping her face in her hands. Her eyes follow his expression. Shifting from blank to clearly surprised to something that borders on nervous. Sumire thinks she might have overstepped her bounds.
“What about him?” Akira turns to look at her with a slightly quirked eyebrow. He must be confused as to why she’s asking. It’s fair to feel confused, she thinks. There were much more opportune times to ask this kind of thing, but instead Sumire decided to wait until after a big team meeting to just stay behind and ask something that is apparently loaded enough for Akira to show genuine confusion for what Sumire thinks might be the first time.
“Well… I was curious about your and Akechi-senpai’s past…” She thinks it’s probably better to just be upfront with what she wants to know. Beating around the bush will just end with the same result, but more drawn out. “Did… the two of you…” Sumire frowns, tilting her head a bit to the side and trying to figure out exactly how to phrase her question. She doesn’t want it to sound like she’s prying. She’s not trying to pry.
“Did we?” Akira’s eyebrow shoots up further. He even looks a bit amused, and Sumire isn’t quite sure what to do with that. Is he nervous? Is he amused? Is he annoyed? Kasumi was so much better at figuring out other people’s emotions than Sumire is. She doesn’t like it one bit, but she’ll have to get it together.
“Um… Well, you and Akechi-senpai always seem so on-edge around each other.” She explains it the best she can, hands moving to rest on the counter instead of cupping her cheeks. She clasps her hands together and decides to stare at them, instead of continuing to force herself to make eye-contact with him. It might be a little too awkward if she does that. “Especially when it was just the three of us.” She presses her lips into a thin line. “...and you were always standing between me and him. So…”
“Oh.” Akira’s face loses all shadow of amusement. Sumire thinks she might have gone a bit too far. He must not want to talk about it. She shouldn’t have asked. This was ridiculous. It’s none of her business, why is she–
“It’s… kind of a long story.” Akira’s voice is quiet and just a touch hesitant. He rounds the counter, leaving the dishes that he had been washing unattended to take the bar stool at Sumire’s side. She has to admit that this does make it a little less awkward, since she doesn't have to look him in the eyes or analyze his every expression.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Akira-senpai.” She tries to leave the door open, in case he wants to leave through it. “It’s none of my business, so–”
“No.” He closes the door himself with a confidence that Sumire finds surprising. “Everyone else knows about it, so you should too.” He says it with such ease. Trust, almost. As though she’s just another member of the team.
Sumire can’t deny that it warms her heart, a little bit, thinking that Akira just might see her as any old member of the Phantom Thieves.
“Okay. If you’re sure.” She nods a bit, giving him the best smile she can muster without seeming too excited. “Go ahead, Akira-senpai. I’m listening.”
He takes a deep breath. He stops, as though preparing himself to talk about something unpleasant. Even if he said himself that he’s alright telling her about whatever it is that hides in his and Akechi’s past, Sumire feels something pulling at her gut. Low enough for her to know that it’s certainly nerves. Something tells her that she should have left it alone. Even if all the others know about it, and even if it’s something that looms large enough that Akira and Akechi struggle to get along even now, she fears that she’s overstepped her bounds.
“He tried to kill me.” Akira says it so bluntly that Sumire is taken aback. “A few times, actually. We haven’t really talked about it. I thought he was dead for a while, and then all of this,” Akira waves his hand, as though gesturing to the world itself, “happened, so there wasn’t really time for it.” He clasps his hands together, and Sumire can see him rubbing at his right hand with his left thumb. “Akechi was the only other person who noticed that something was off, so I had to work with him. There really wasn’t any other choice. I mean, do you think I could have gone through Maruki’s Palace by myself?” He looks at her with a half-smile. His eyes convey… disappointment?
She can’t quite place her finger on it.
“We almost died when it was you, me, and Morgana.” He continues as though the moment never happened. “Akechi is a lot stronger than me, and he’s got more experience. If I wanted to beat Maruki then he was my best bet.” He pauses, for just a second. “And he was the only person who remembered the way the world used to be. It was…”
“...comforting.” Sumire finds herself finishing for him. She feels her eyes widening. Suddenly, all of it makes perfect sense. She can see it with perfect clarity. The moment Akira had seen an old enemy – his only option, his only light in the dark, the only one who remembered the truth – and decided that he was the best option for returning to the world that he had likely never even wanted to return to. Who would? When the world that they had been gifted on a silver platter could remedy all of their problems and make all of his friends happier than they had ever been in the real world–
Akira had chosen, all on his own, that this was a world he couldn’t accept.
Sumire can’t help but think that there’s something admirable about that. More admirable than the girl who couldn’t even accept her part in the death of someone as dear to her as her own sister. Akira had seen something unnatural – something too good to be true – and decided that the only thing to be done was to fix it. Sumire had decided she would rather accept it and move right along.
“Not as comforting as when you joined us, though.” Akira breaks her train of thought with a compliment and a touch of a smirk. “Probably gonna shatter the illusion of your tough leader, but I was pretty nervous about working with Akechi at first. You being there–” He pauses, giving her a bit of a softer smile that makes Sumire realize, all over again, what a truly sweet person her Senpai is. “–was just reassuring.”
“It was comforting to me too, Senpai.” She smiles. “Since I couldn’t help you when you were fighting that Shido guy, it was nice to finally be able to be useful, and make sure that you didn’t do anything dumb and get yourself hurt.” She giggles, and catches his face brightening up just a bit at the sound of her laugh. It’s the kind of relaxed atmosphere that Sumire had always gone to her senpai for, even back before she remembered all the things she had to worry about and her world turned itself right-side up so violently.
“Anyway–” Akira stands from the counter with a smile, quickly rounding the bar once again and scanning the wall made of varying jars of coffee from all over the world. Sumire remembers him saying something about the owner of the cafe forcing him to memorize random facts about each one, and she can’t help but find the thought amusing. “Want some coffee before I walk you to the station?” He gives her another of those confident smiles that she’s come to realize are reserved only for those who Akira Kurusu considers to be under his protection.
Sumire can’t help but giggle. Akira looks at her with a touch of confusion, but she just can’t help it. Seeing that look in Akira’s eyes directed at her is even more reassuring than any kind words he could ever give her. And he’s given her more than enough kind words over the past year that they’ve known each other.
“Thank you, Senpai. I would love some of your famous coffee!” She leans her elbows onto the counter and gives him her best smile. He quickly returns the favor and sets about making a cup of coffee, rambling on about the type of beans that he’s planning on using and every piece of coffee-making advice that the owner of the café has given him about bringing out the most flavor possible from this specific type of coffee.
Sumire never thought that she would be sitting in a little back alley café, listening to an upperclassman ramble on about how to make the perfect cup of coffee while the world around them swirls with a distortion that convinces most that their world is more than perfect.
But, now that she is here, she can’t say she wants to be anywhere else.