Chapter Text
“I hate children,” Akechi says, plopping down his tray of cafeteria food, it clatters loudly onto the table. “They’re so…” He trails off, twirling his hand as if to emphasize his point. “Immature.”
Akira feels like he’s been hearing that a lot lately, mostly from Akechi, but his neighbor back at the elementary dorms seems to share that sentiment.
Akira informs him of such.
Akechi sneers, which looks rather silly on his eleven-year-old face. “I don’t care what some prepubescent child thinks.”
“Well, you two sound the same.”
“You insult me, Kurusu.”
Akira nods, pushing another bite of dry rice into his mouth. Akechi has been rather irritable ever since all their efforts to take down Shido, save the world, and defeat Maruki were essentially flushed down the drain the day they all time traveled.
It sounded like the plot to some over-dramatic sci-fi plot. And if Akira didn’t know any better, he’d think he was casted for one. Finding out that both Akechi and Sumire attended the same elementary school as him probably added to that feeling. Akira could remember Akechi’s remorseful speech about how, if only they had met a few years earlier, so vividly. So vividly, it seems, that it somehow became a reality. From wishing they grew up together to literally getting what they wished for, it felt like a slap to the face.
Akira was practically waiting for someone to jump out and tell him, “he just walked the prank.”
It was perhaps the reason behind Akechi’s actions and words for the past week. Normally, Akechi is better at taming his anger; the build-up of events has made him more prone to lashing out at anyone who even approaches him.
This surreal reality, if you can call it that, seems to have taken them back to 2008. It was like a sick joke on his own fate. His death, in the end, was all for nought.
Akira swallows another bite, his throat parched and itchy in ways he cannot describe.
Akechi stabs his food, the tray clattering and screeching with each impact of his fork. Or maybe it’s not a product of this week, maybe Akechi is just an angry guy.
Morgana wriggles out of Akira’s sleeve, snatching another bite of the sad cafeteria fish provided to him. “Akechi, did you only learn manners in high school?”
“You think you know everything, huh?”
Morgana huffs indignantly, shimmying back into Akira’s sleeve as the cafeteria guards walk by. Akira feels the crumbs and bits from whatever Mona is munching on scratch against his arms.
He shudders, “We need a better way of feeding you.”
“I’m a growing cat, you can’t just deny me food.”
“So what, now you’re admitting you’re a kitten?”
Morgana yowls in the sleeve, wiggling around. “I am not a cat!”
Akechi snorts, smiling haughtily at Akira.
“Sh!” Akira hisses. “You guys are going to get me caught.”
Akechi rolls his eyes, shoveling food into his mouth. His face twists in disgust. “I hate this damn food.”
“You hate a lot of things these days.”
Morgana pops out his sleeve again, “Hate is a strong word.”
Akechi jerks up, body lurching forward as he reaches for Morgana’s small head peeking out of Akira’s sleeve, “I’ll show you a strong word, you moggie!”
Morgana lets out a meow of distress, scrambling back into the safety of Akira's sleeve. Akechi’s hand clamps around the place where Mona’s head was just a second ago.
“What are you boys doing?” The cafeteria supervisor asks, her brows knit in annoyance.
Akechi smiles cheerily, “We’re holding hands!”
Akira looked over and sure enough, Akechi had shifted his hand placement so now their hands were clasped together.
It burned.
She narrows her eyes but doesn’t inquire further. “Have you two seen a cat around? Some of the other children said they heard meows coming from over here.”
Akechi and Akira glance at each other, Akechi slowly squeezing his hand into a death grip. Akira would say his eyes were murderous, but he’s seen and experienced that. If anything, they were just very irritated.
“Meow.” Akira says, staring at the lady.
“Sorry, they must’ve mistaken my friend for a small kitty.” Akechi smiles.
She looks like she has more to say, a tight smile set on her face. She is obviously annoyed but she just sighs and walks away. At least she knows she can always walk away from a situation.
“You’re a terrible eleven-year-old,” Akira says immediately.
Akechi lets go of his hand and his smile drops. “Oh, shut up, I hate those dumb fucking cafeteria guards.”
“You really do hate everything.” Mona pipes up.
“Fuck you.”
“No cussing.”
“Fuck. You.”
“Ah, sorry I’m late guys… I had to convince my sister that I needed to talk to you guys…” Sumire takes a seat at their lunch table beside Akira, peering over her shoulder to see Kasumi staring right at her “…without her.”
“You don’t have to sit with us,” Akira says, taking his last bite of rice.
“We see you after school, regardless.”
“Still I feel left out…” She mumbled slinking down in her seat.
“Sit with us or don't; it doesn't matter.” Akechi rolled his eyes, stabbing his food again. “Besides, we haven’t made much headway in fixing this whole mess anyways.”
Akira nods. “Not much discussion going over here.”
“Yeah,” Akechi snorted, “Since you’re too busy trying to keep your little pet cat under wraps.”
“I am not a pet and most certainly not a cat!”
“Ah, uhm… Well.” Sumire shifted in her seat, fidgeting with her hair. “Oh, that’s right. Something weird happened last night…”
Akechi raised an eyebrow and tilted his head towards her to prompt her to keep going.
“You see… I was having a hard time sleeping last night so I went downstairs to get water. It was basically midnight when I finished drinking it, uh, well I wasn’t certain because I couldn’t see the clock without my glasses. I left them on my nightstand because I didn't think I would need them to grab a cup of water, I can sorta see, but anyway, I turned on the TV to watch something to help me fall asleep, it normally helps me to relax and—”
“Yoshizawa, get to the point.”
“Right, sorry! So, um, the power went out.”
“Power outages around here are kind of normal,” Akechi said, pushing his tray of half-eaten food aside. “I don’t see how this is peculiar.”
“No yeah, I know. But the sky turned green.”
The three of them looked at each other.
“Why didn’t you start with that!” Akechi practically howled.
“Uh, ah,” Sumire nervously slunk deeper in her seat, “Uh, also it felt alarmingly similar to the metaverse…”
Akechi slammed his face onto the plastic table, all their trays clattering from the impact.
“Akechi!” Sumire stood up, reaching her hands out hesitantly.
“Don’t,” He lifted his head from the table, a red dot forming in the middle of his head. He rubs his temples, “You people irritate me.”
“He doesn’t mean that.”
“I most certainly do, oh great leader.”
Akira pouts.
“Uh, um, erm,” Sumire twirls a piece of her hair, “So, do you guys, perhaps want to have a playdate today, and, um, sleepover.”
“You want us to hang out tonight?” Akechi asks.
“Slumber party!” Akira cheers.
“Yes, so we could investigate the green sky.”
“Perhaps it was a symptom of the Metaverse,” Akechi says lazily, drawing circles into the table with his fork, “A one-time thing, just another shitty piece of bait to raise our hopes of getting back to our time.” He emphasizes his point by snapping the plastic fork.
“I think it’s a good idea,” Morgana says, as he climbs out from Akira’s sweater sleeve. “Even if it was a one-off thing, we can still plan at Sumire’s home, it provides a better hideout for us than walking to and from school.”
Akira nods, “Plus it’ll be fun.”
Akechi sighs, “Fine. I’ll have to somehow convince my keepers, so we’ll most likely not be able to do it tonight.”
“Oh…” Sumire looks down. “Well, I was hoping you two could do it because, erm, I’m a little scared to be alone at night.”
“Don't you have your sister?”
She slams her hands forward, her body pushing forward with her hands. “That's the thing! There was a coffin in her bed.”
“A coffin?”
Sumire nodded, “I couldn't find her or my parents! I know they all went to bed too because there were coffins! Tucked in bed!”
“Coffins.” Akechi repeats again.
“Yes! Like a cartoon.”
Akira hums, thinking, “So,” he says, “Do they, like, turn into coffins?”
“I don't know, Kurusu, maybe they're all pulling out life-size coffins and hiding to fuck with our dear friend: Yoshizawa.”
Sumire stares wide-eyed, “Uh.”
“I'm joking.”
“Oh.”
Akira almost makes a comment along the lines of he didn't know the oh-so-serious-prince detective made such crude jokes, but Akechi began speaking before he got the chance.
“So the working theory is that a certain number of people with unknown qualifications are conscious during this green sky thing?”
Sumire nods.
Akira brings his hand to his chin. “Well, how do you know there's only specific persons who can be aware of it?”
“Well,” Akechi says, matter-of-factly, “I don’t. You and I are typically asleep during that time. So, even if we do exist during the time of the green sky we wouldn't be aware of it. Yoshizawa, do you happen to have an estimate on how long it lasted?”
She shook her head. “I went back to bed.”
“I see.” Akechi’s voice went flat as he stared at her with a deadpan expression, Akira could have sworn he saw his eye twitch. “I want to see if my hypothesis is correct, could you stay up until midnight tonight? And if the same thing happens, possibly stay awake until the sky turns back to normal.”
“I can try…”
“I can come with you!” Morgana says, jumping into Sumire’s bag.
Sumire looks up at Akira with big eyes. “Oh, um, is that okay with you senpai?”
Akira shrugs, he doesn’t particularly mind. “I could come and stay the night, too.”
“Well, you’ll first have to convince your wardens over at the dorms.”
Akira thinks back on the two small wardens that used to watch over him in the past, which is also technically his near future, he guesses he’d be their height now. He shrugs, “I mean, I could always break out.”
“Low profile, Joker, we don’t want you going on probation too early.” Akechi says, a saccharine lilt to his voice.
Akira stares at the younger versions of his friends, suddenly reminded that without their previous memories of their original timeline; they wouldn’t be here in elementary school seated together at a lunch table.
It felt wrong to be ten years old again, sitting with his future friends who are also nine and eleven respectively. Yet there’s a part of him that’s grateful for this do-over, if this can even be called that.
He wonders how much of Yaldabaoth’s game is ruined because of whatever sent the three of them back to their elementary days. Are they changing the future? Can they even change the future that was already written for them? Will their newly established bonds as children break the space-time continuum? Is that even real?
This sci-fi movie sucks.
Akira shakes his head, remembering he has to reply. “Only cause you're asking so nicely.”
Akechi turns to stare at him with a flat look, his eyes twitching in annoyance. “Sure.”
“So…sleepover?” Sumire asks again.
“After you ask your parents, and after Akira and I can plan our grand escape.”
“Prison break?”
“No.” Akechi stares at him, a look of vague distress and disgust. “Joker, you will not break your curfew.”
Akira slouches, “Okay.”
“Sit up straight.” Morgana chimes.
Akira huffs as he slinks further down in despair. Now they're trying to fix his posture before he gets the chance to ruin it. Reluctantly, he sits up. “Okay.”
“So, Sumire, are you going to do a presentation and a dance to convince your parents?” Akira asks, mostly jokingly.
“Funny you should mention–”
“Yoshizawa. For the love of God, do not tell me you plan to convince your parents using a juvenile powerpoint and frivolous dance.”
“Well…”
Akechi leans back in the seat again, eyes closed, rubbing his temples for what seemed to be the umpteenth time.
Before any more words can be exchanged between them, the bell rings.
“We discuss this after school.” Akechi finishes curtly.
—
They do not discuss it after school.
“So, Sumire,” Akira feels tired, he keeps wondering how seven-year-olds act, “How was your math homework?”
“Oh, I didn’t do it.”
It didn’t make sense for him to ask this. They weren’t in the same math, they weren’t even in the same grade. In fact, they aren’t even the same age. If anyone was paying attention to the conversation at hand, they’d be able to point that out. No one did, forcing Akira to respond to Sumire’s admission.
“Oh.”
This was awkward. Beyond awkward. Akira was being forced to carry the entire conversation. This isn’t Akira’s role, he’s the silent protagonist. This conversation was ruining his entire character he had going on.
He fiddled with his hair, trying his hardest to ignore the hostile glares Sumire’s sister, Kasumi, was sending him.
The four of them were all walking side by side, Kasumi with an arm wrapped around Sumire, Akira shoulder to shoulder with Kasumi, and Akechi drifting further from Akira. The tension was suffocating, Kasumi was too occupied with glaring daggers into Akechi to keep up with the conversation.
And it’s not like Akechi was any help, he refused to contribute anything to the conversation unless prompted. Even then he would respond with simple “yes” or “no” answers, even if the question couldn’t be answered as such. On top of that, he kept glaring right back at her with as much hatred as his small eleven-year-old face could muster. The two of them weren’t being the least bit subtle about it either. Akira tugged on his bangs even more as if it could hide him from the whole situation.
It was insufferable.
Akira knew they couldn’t start talking about complicated things around Kasumi, like time travel, false gods, and green skies. She’d think they’re insane. She’d probably forbid Sumire from interacting with them again if they brought up some sci-fi-esque debate.
His bag felt light without Mona, he was hyper-aware of the lack of weight, they never got the chance for Morgana to jump back into Akira’s bag. The mixture of the bell ringing alongside Kasumi’s quick retrieval of her sister made it impossible for the small cat to hop back into Akira’s bag.
Akira was going to die.
“Oh, uh, this is my stop.” Akira says, stopping in his tracks before the dorms.
Akechi and Kasumi both shoot an irate look at him, their heads turning at the same time. It was frightening.
“Oh, Aki!” Akechi jumps towards Akira, he doesn't get the chance to dodge before Akechi’s hands latch onto his arm like a hawk going in for the kill. His nails sinking into Akira’s upper arm, “Remember the book I lent you? I need it for an in-class assignment. We have a book report in class, I just need that book by today. Can I come over to your room?” His innocent expression was ruined by the pain blossoming in Akira’s arm.
Akira had a strained smile plastered across his face as Akechi's nails dug further into his arm. “Sure, Goro-chan!” His smile wavered as Akechi dug even harder at the nickname. “You go on ahead,” —he muffled an involuntary yelp— “I’ll meet you after I see Sumi-chan off!”
Akechi's eyes burn into his skull, he releases Akira, shooting him a smile that tells him: hurry up.
“Bye-bye, Sumi!” He smiles brightly, running up the stairs to the dorms. “See you at school!” He skips away, shooting a downright venomous glare towards Kasumi before he disappears.
Kasumi glares back, sticking out her tongue at his retreating figure.
“I don't like that guy.” She declares. “He’s evil.”
“He’s not evil.” Sumire says, somewhat stressed. “He’s just, uh…”
“Evil.” Kasumi concludes.
“No.”
“Red eyes mean evil.”
Akira tugs at his bangs once more, he still hasn’t found the time to replace his glasses. “I think yellow eyes are more evil…”
“I can sense it, Sumi,” Kasumi looks toward Akira, a form of childish conviction, “I have a third eye.”
“Me too, but that guy’s just weird.” Akira nodded.
“You’re the weird one, stay away from Sumi!” Kasumi yells as she storms off, Sumire in tow. Sumire meets Akira’s eyes and gives him a small wave.
Akira stands there, scratching his head.
He wonders if this is real, if he truly is ten years old again interacting with his future high school friends.
“At least Akechi and I will plan something…” Akira mutters as he trudges upstairs to his room.
The elementary dorms are rather empty, there are maybe five other kids living here. His parents sent him here once they found out this school had a dorm system for them to take advantage of.
As he’s heading to his room, he turns the corner and nearly crashes right into another resident. Akira staggers as he tries to balance himself upright, he is able to use the corner wall for support, but the other kid does not have the same luck. He falls flat on his behind, a loud clattering sound engulfs the hallway as a spear twice his size drops to the floor beside him. l
“Ouch…”
Akira places a hand on the side of his head, steadying the sudden dizziness. He recognizes the kid on the ground, “Oh, hey Ken-kun!”
It was his next-door roommate. Akira vaguely remembers the fact that they used to hang out sometimes when Akira was younger, which is now. Akira hates time travel.
The two were never particularly close to each other, despite being dorm neighbors for at least a year… Maybe it was a mixture of both Akira’s social ineptitude and Ken’s busy schedule that prevented a relationship. Well no use worrying about the could have and would haves. Ken was going to be leaving soon anyways if he remembers correctly.
Recently, Ken was rarely ever at the dorms and there was a rumor that he was moving dorms soon, something for his club is what he remembers. Akira remembers when he moved, his dorm floor got much quieter. He can’t seem to recall the specific date that Ken moves out, but he sort of hopes it's soon, it’ll make it far easier to hide Morgana and Akechi.
“Oh, hi Kurusu-san.” Ken looks up, acknowledging who he stumbled into. He grabs his spear and uses it to pull himself up. He shifts awkwardly in place.
Akira glances behind Ken, towards his room. Akechi is in the doorway, staring at Ken and Akira. His eyes snap towards Akira, assessing the situation at hand. He raises his eyebrows as if to signal Akira to get over here.
Akira ignores him. “Is that for your club?” Akira gestures towards the comically large spear in his hands. It is about the size of Ken if there was another Ken stacked on top of him.
“Yeah.”
The awkward silence that befell them afterward was horrible. Akira hoped Ken would say something…more. He reached for his hair and fiddled with the stay strands in front of his face.
“Cool.” Akira looked over at Akechi who was giving him an incredulous look, as if to wordlessly tell him to wrap it up.
“Uhm.” They both started.
“Ah.”
“Well…” Ken looked around and started moseying towards the stairs, slowly. “I got to go…club stuff. Haha, bye Kurusu-san.”
“Oh okay,” Akira raises his hand to wave, but Ken slips down the stairs before he gets the chance, “Bye Ken...”
He sauntered over to his room, Akechi seemed to have already found his way inside. He quirks a brow, as if to ask how he got in.
Akechi tosses his key back to him. A pleased look on his face at Akira’s disbelieving expression. “I would not be seen loitering outside your room.”
Akira nods, he steps into his room, shutting the door behind him. He locks it with his key just to be safe. Akechi stands close to the door as Akira sits at his desk, his arms crossed the same way he used to during their Phantom Thief meetings.
“Who was that?”
“Hm? Oh, you mean Ken Amada, he lives here.” Akira waves off.
“He couldn’t possibly be the one who you were comparing me to today?”
Akira looked away, suddenly turning towards the empty desk. “Maybe.”
“That’s absurd. I take immense offense to that statement. I would not be as foolish as to fall on my ass like that, alongside dropping my weapon in plain view for all to see. Not to mention I am nowhere near as underdeveloped and idiotic as that bumbling child. You as my rival should be abashed for even insinuating such.”
“A lot of insults for a guy who sounds exactly like him.”
Akechi huffs indignantly, his expression flashing to a comical annoyance which seems more fitting on an enraged toddler than Akechi. Akira’s been finding a lot of Akechi’s eleven-year-old antics funny as of late.
“Also what kind of child brings a spear to a club?” Akechi snarls.
Akira replies with a shrug.
Akechi begins pacing. “Honestly? Club? What an obvious lie, does he believe all children are as idiotic as he is? Who in their right mind would even give a child a weapon like that? People aren’t just giving real weapons out to just anyone like candy! There are policies that prevent that for a reason.”
Akira thinks about Iwai, the guy who tried his damndest to not give Akira a realistic fake gun, then shrugs again.
Akechi stops in his tracks suddenly, like he had the most brilliant of ideas. “Let’s follow him.”
“What?”
“Don’t act so dense, leader of the Phantom Thieves.” Akechi bitterly spat, glowering through his bangs, walking closer to Akira with each step. “We need intel and this boy is a lead.”
“Nah, he’s probably long gone by now, anyway.”
“Only if you sit on your ass like that,” Akechi swipes Akira’s keys once again, unlocking the door and flying out into the hallway.
Akira hurriedly follows him, barely having the thought to close the door. He is only able to see Akechi’s figure turn down the stairs, his hair billowing after him.
“Akechi!”
Akechi is out the front doors faster than Akira thought was possible out of an eleven-year-old. Akira caught his shoulder before he bolted again.
“Wait.” He heaved, his chest tight from running.
Akechi shrugs his hand off, his face pinched in anger, “You had no problem running around like this in the Metaverse.”
Akechi dashes down the road before Akira gets the chance to voice his protests.
They spot Ken, casually walking down the road with his unconcealed weapon for all to see. Akira wonders how he never noticed that when he stayed here. He wished the kid version of him was a lot more nosy.
Akechi stops abruptly, he latches onto Akira’s wrist and drags him into the bushes. They squeezed through the metal bars, Akira’s huffing for air.
“Shut up.” Akechi hisses, pressing a hand to Akira's mouth.
Akira pushes his hand away before he can even think about licking it. He shoots a miffed expression at Akechi, his mouth set in a displeased line.
“C’mon.”
Akechi presses forward, he walks through the shrubbery, careful where he steps, gently pushing aside any branches that get in his way.
Akechi peers through the bars, Akira quickly follows him, looking out and trying to catch whatever catches his attention.
“Look,” he whispers, “Amada.”
Without waiting for a reply Akechi slips through the bars again, dusting off any dirt from his shirt and pants. He looks at Akira and motions with his head to follow.
Akira dutifully does so, much less elegant and practiced.
Akechi snatches his hand, tugging him forward to cross the street. “I thought your gang snooped around often, honestly, you suck at this.”
“We snooped, not stalked.” Akira huffs, he spots Ken again, well more of his spear poking above the small crowd of people. “Why are you so good at this?”
“Of course I’m skilled at this, how else do you think I gathered evidence of your group's little escapades.”
“You stalked me?”
Akechi shot him a look of disbelief, “You didn’t know? Akira did you not find my frequent intrusions to your meetings to be the slightest bit suspicious?”
Akira looked away, embarrassed, their hands still interlocked. “Well…”
“It is a miracle you were not caught by someone less merciful than me.”
Akira remembers that time Akechi shot him. And then tried to kill him. “Yeah.”
“I know.”
Akechi walks faster, with more purpose in his step. This has the added consequence of practically dragging Akira across the street.
It’s a much further walk than Akira anticipated, more than what Akechi was expecting most likely. The only reason they were able to follow him through all his twists and turns through the city was due to the large spear always pointing up at the sky like a beacon. It made following him far easier.
“Like a beacon.” Akira mumbled.
“What.”
“The spear.”
“Oh, yes.” Akechi tugs Akira to the right harshly, the spear bobbing up and down. “It’s like Sakamoto.”
Akira didn’t have the chance to inquire further because Akechi stopped, pulling him backwards into the alleyway they were just in.
“Amada just walked into that building.”
They wait a second, Akechi’s eyes scanning over the building. Akira looked at the windows, noticing the people passing by. He tugged Akechi's hand, pulling him back out of the alleyway.
With some reluctance, Akechi followed Akira, backing out, retreating back onto the streets filled with passerbys. Akira tugged forward once more, taking a different path to the building.
“The best disguise is the one hidden in plain sight.” Akira says with a flourish of his hand.
“Joyous.” Akechi deadpans.
The two hold their bags as if to give the illusion that they’re just coming home from school. They stopped in front of the building they just saw Ken enter minutes before. They both appeared as nothing but two inconspicuous children, who just happen to walk by, rather than a pair of stalkers following their peer.
They hurry onwards, letting go of each other's hands to inspect the outer regions of the building. Akira nosed around to the left of the building, trying to peek through the window. He is just too short in his child body, he’s forced to clamor onto the edges of the window, his fingertips straining as they lift his head up the window. He’s at eye level but still unable to see much due to the brightness of the outside light.
There's not much else he can balance himself on, so he lets go, dropping back onto the ground. Landing on his feet, he scans the barren area for something he could stand on.
A discarded plastic box is in reach, Akira has to drag it over to the window. He stands on top of it, hoping it doesn't break under his weight. Just as he's about to peer inside, Akechi rounds the corner.
Akira motions for him to come over, together they stand on the box, shoulder to shoulder. They look inside, they have cupped their hands in such a way as to block out any sunlight and allow for a better look inside.
They see a gaggle of teenagers, they mostly look like high school students. They all certainly have their own character, there’s one typing away frantically on a laptop she’s hunching over and her brows are furrowed. Right behind her another appears to be coaching— no wait, the other guy knows what he’s doing too, it looks like they’re sparing— they both have a gruff appearance. Towards the seating area is a girl who’s cleaning her bow and refilling her quiver, next to her is a guy totally passed out as his headphones are sliding off. There’s another guy across from him who’s fixated on the tv, a gaming controller in his hands. And next to him is a put together girl who's shuffling through some paperwork, occasionally taking a tea break. Then his eyes fall on a dog who’s loitering around the one who looks the most normal of the group, a blonde girl who’s playing with the dog. An odd bunch, really.
Sitting in a chair is familiar brown hair, just barely visible overtop the back of the chair. He couldn’t see it well but with the way the spear was laying across the chair, he thinks Ken’s also cleaning his weapon. If Akira was being honest, it did kind of look like a club meeting. The red bands on their shoulders helped to sell the look too, like a uniform on top of their school uniform. To signify their relation to the club. Akira squinted and hardened his gaze trying to read the armband, it said, “S.E.E.S.” Like, See’s Candies. But probably not actually.
Akira and Akechi duck down below the window sill, they sit there in silence for a second. They exchange a look with each other, they’re probably both thinking the same thing. They slide down, both sitting atop the crate.
“Ugh.” Akechi threw a rock, it bounced harmlessly off the ground. “This was a bust.”
Akira nods mournfully.
“They’re just kids hanging out under the guise of a club meeting, Amada is most likely to be one of their cousins or something.”
“Maybe I can move here. They allow pets.” Akira says wistfully, in reference to the dog he spotted.
“Don’t be absurd. Most of them are high schoolers, it appears as a type of situation where you know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy.” Akechi scrunches his nose. “I doubt they’d let just anyone move in.”
Akira slumps over. “So what now?”
Akechi slides off the box, standing up. “We go back to your dormitory. See if this supposed green sky Yoshizawa spoke of appears.”
Akira nods, half dreading the remorseful walk of shame they have to do.
Akechi takes Akira’s hand in his, helping him to his feet. They scamper off, retracing their steps. When they reach the front of the dorms again, the sun’s descending down, Akira realizes he’s never let go of Akechi’s hand. Akechi didn't voice a word of complaint during the entire journey.
“So, what about your foster parents?” Akira asks as they go up the stairs.
Akechi looks over his shoulder, down at Akira. “Don't worry about that. I doubt they'll notice I’m even gone.” He mumbles bitterly.
“Why’d you tell Sumire you needed permission first?”
Akechi looks away. He doesn't answer for a second.
“I just.” –he stops at the top of the stairs, allowing Akira to catch up to him and stand beside him– “Sumire has a naïve understanding of the world. I’d rather not shatter it so soon after getting her sister back.”
Akira wants to tease him for a second, that he's gone soft and his whole evil murderer facade was being ruined. He’d decided against it, just squeezing his hand instead.
Akechi puffs out a breath of air. Jerking Akira forward, opening the door to his dorm.
–
Akechi was situated by the window, leaning against the wall and staring blankly out, they had mostly kept up a conversation, they even tried playing verbal chess. Where you just call out the placement of the chess piece while remembering where both yours and your opponent's chess pieces are. They both believed they were winning. Once Akechi called a check, they also came to the realization their placements were completely off.
Akira glanced at the clock, it flashed 11:59pm. He was at his desk, staring at the insultingly easy homework. Just as it was about to hit midnight, he felt the world shift. The lights cut, the clock powers off, all fans that were running also fall mute; the only light is the green glow from the sky outside. Sure enough it was just as Sumire had described it, a sickly green washed over the world. All the street lights were shut off, coffins scattered across the streets, miscellaneous blood stains decorated the streets.
“What the—” Akira turns to glance outside.
“Alright. Let's go.” Akechi was already half-way to the door.
“Huh?”
“Don't be daft.” Akechi snapped. “We're investigating.”
Akira didn’t even get a chance to protest before Akechi was out the door.
Feeling a bit of déjà vu from this, Akira only heaves out a sigh, snagging the closest book in his reach. If his memory serves him right, the dormitory's doors locked from the outside after 9:00 p.m. basically their curfew, and Akira really didn’t want to spend his night in the freezing cold.
Wedging the book in between the doors, he can almost hear Mona’s voice chide him for not using something more practical and discreet like tape. He didn’t want to risk wasting time by looking around for a roll of tape, especially since Akechi was already waltzing down the streets, inspecting the coffins.
Something must've caught his attention, because he looked up at the sky in disbelief, focusing on something in the distance.
Akira caught up to him and looked in the direction that caught his attention. An odd shaped building was looming in the horizon, it was as tall as the sky. Akira’s eyes hardened as he could feel his jaw clench.
“A palace?”
“It's a possibility, we shouldn't rule it out.”
“But how can we be in the Metaverse without the app, we didn't even have the keywords for a palace.”
“It is rather odd.” Akechi hums, staring up at the large moon behind the imposing tower. “Yoshizawa was right, it does feel like the Metaverse-”
“But it's off.”
Akechi nods, he looks a bit peeved that Akira dared to interrupt him. He continues to stare up at the imposing tower, he reaches a hand up to his head. Quickly, his eyes drop to the floor. Akira tears his eyes away from the tower, staring at Akechi as he clutches his head.
“Can you hear them?”
“Our Personas?”
Akechi nods, he looks around, eyes distressed and frantic.
Akira pondered for a moment, concentrating on his mind and tried to reach Arsène. Any waiver of his presence, he digs deep into his mind, trying to find that source of his rebellion—his will to fight.
He comes up with nothing, he feels increasingly distraught at the lack of Arsène’s presence. Usually in Mementos, the Personas are chatty. They’re like a never ending thought going through the mind. Even in the real world, the whispers of them are still there. The silence is strange, almost alien.
He tries to reach Arsène, but he can hardly find any trace of him in his mind. He stops, instead searching his mind for Satanael, trying to pull him forward in the mind. He most certainly doesn’t need the ultimate accumulation of his rebellion, and even if he were to summon him right at this second he’d most likely topple a few buildings. But, he was getting desperate.
Still. There was only an alarming emptiness.
He strains, trying to reach really any Persona he had in his arsenal before they were sent back.
He’s greeted by silence.
“I…” Akira stares at Akechi. His feelings of horror must reflect on his face because Akechi stares back, face painted with trepidation “…I can’t hear them.”
“Yeah.” Akechi shakes his head. “It’s far too quiet in my mind, my Personas aren’t usually the silent type.”
“Any weapons?” Akira asks, tugging at his bangs as means to ease the growing dread of the situation. He already knows the answer to his own question, but he tries to hope for something.
“Actually,” Akechi rifles through his pockets, he brings out a small rectangular object. With a sharp flick a blade pops out. Akechi looks rather triumphant. “I just happened to come in possession of my jailer’s—ahem—my foster father’s blade today. How lucky.”
Akira snorts, feeling that heaviness in his chest loosen a bit. “C’mon, I’m the kleptomaniac between the two of us; stop breaking character.”
Akechi outright laughs at Akira’s little statement.
“Here,” Akechi says, putting the blade away and shoving it into Akira’s hand, “You’re far more practiced with short blades.”
“Thanks.”
“Let’s go investigate now.”
Akira nods, shoving the blade into the pocket of his uniform, the weight feels nice and familiar. He follows Akechi as he heads straight for the tower. They stare up at it, the moon looking far too large and rather frightening in the green glow. The coffins do not help either, they only added to the eerie atmosphere, standing there all dead-like. Akira wonders briefly if people are in them.
He shakes that thought away rather quickly.
Akira can feel the lecture from Mona once he finds out they did this. Too dangerous without knowledge of what they might face. Even more dangerous without access to their Personas. He thinks Mona would actually die if he also found out that they only had one small weapon between the two of them.
The image of the small version of Morgana kneeling over from worry is a little humorous.
The two of them reach the building, stopping just outside the gates that are built around it. It looks like it forms right over Gekkoukan High School, the concept felt incredibly similar to Kamoshida’s palace.
“The high school of all things?” Akechi questions aloud.
“Let's begin this heist school.”
Akechi turns his head to give Akira a withered glare. Akira only laughs.
Akechi shakes his head, he ventures into the strange building with Akira following justa step behind. A blinding white light greets them as Akira squints to adjust his eyes. There’s a long hallway the two stumble into, an elaborate staircase was smack in the middle at the end of the hallway. Behind the staircase was a large clock, it had an intricate design and the stairs seemed to lead into it. There was an entrance there, it looked like a door built inside the face of the clock.
Akira could hear faint murmurs. He closes his eyes for a second, he concentrates his mind. When he opens his eye again everything is washed in a gray hue, it seems he still could activate his third eye. The activation of his third eye also brings the typical strange mutters he usually hears, too soft to truly distinguish what they're saying, distinctly different from the whispers of the five entities.
He ignored the bright blue door to the Velvet Room, merely noting it for later, instead he scanned around, to the right of the stairway, near the glowing clock, was a brightly green pad. It had a similar look to open vents he and the other thieves used to venture into. A teleportation pad, perhaps?
He moved his gaze back to the stairs and the area to the left of it, focusing his mind. He could detect five others in this room just near the staircase. He began to pick up the whispers of the five, their words becoming more clear the longer he focused his ears, occasionally catching a word or two. One was mumbling what seemed to be orders, it reminded him of Oracle, then there was a duo talking about a homework assignment. The last voice whispers mummers of reassurance to someone, he could even pick up on the subtle unraveling of gauze.
Akira blinked away the third eye and turned back to Akechi.
“At the top of the stairs is an entrance,” Akira notes, “Five others are close to it, we could sneak past them...”
“But?”
“But if you turn your gaze to the right,” Akira points at the glowing pad, he feels a playful grin spread across his face “A teleporter.”
“A teleporter? Joker-”
“Trust, I bet it can get us in without any sneaking around.”
Akira looks back at the blue door, his wardens were nowhere to be seen.
“The plan is to just to” —Akechi looks beyond displeased— “run to something you believe is a teleporter?”
“Essentially. There’s no way we’ll be able to climb the stairs without getting caught.”
Akechi sighs, he looks resigned. He straightens his body, lowering just slightly. “Alright, then.”
Akira shakes his body, loosening the tension that had been building in his body. Akechi smoothes his expression out, staring intently at the pad. His body low, crouched down, like he's prepared to dodge away and pounce on anyone who dares to get close. Akira bounces on the tips of his toes, trying to quickly adjust his weight distribution in relation to his new body weight and height.
Akechi glances up at Akira. All it takes is a quick flick of Akira’s hand, a slight nod, before the two dash off.
Their steps are light, and their feet touch the ground near the same time. They’re certainly a bit rusty, but they manage to reach the teleporter, with little noise and fanfare. The rush of adrenaline that coursed through Akira’s body is so familiar, reminding him of when he’d have to make his grand escapes from heists. A smile threatens to spread across his face.
Akechi is there first, he practically throws himself towards the teleporter. Akira reaches an arm out, this is when he’d do some flashy move as he reaches his goal. But his childlike body prevents him from doing a whole lot. He meets Akechi’s eyes, his eyes are desperate, he snatches Joker’s outstretched hand and yanks him into the teleporter.
Akira barely registers the noises directed at them. The shouting and barking become increasingly louder with each second that passes. He hardly glances at the control panel, he searches for the largest and most eye-catching button and slams his hand down it before he could think further.
A bright light engulfs them. He tries to force his eyes open but shuts them the moment he feels the ground beneath him disappear. He can feel Akechi’s grip on his hand tighten.
Then, everything stills. The only sound he can hear are the straining breaths he and Akechi are taking.
Cracking open his eyes, he stares into the darkness for a moment, his eyes adjust to the sudden lack of lights. He hears Akechi heave, gagging and coughing ensuing soon afterwards.
Akira picks himself up, eyes squinting and straining to adjust. “Crow?”
“I'm right here, Joker.” His voice was strained, it crackled a bit.
He plants his hands on the floor and tries to push himself up, a wave of dizziness hits him. He stumbles back down, he blearily blinks as his eyes threaten to close again. Maybe he can close his eyes for just a second. Steady himself. Crow’s here to keep watch. He can just rest for a second. He could feel himself slipping away, he just needs a little nap and they can resume their exploration.
“Joker, don't you dare fall asleep on-”