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“This is a good spot,” Akira says, dropping the picnic blanket into the dew-damp grass.
Ryuji drops their picnic basket on top of the blanket, before Akira can get it fully unfolded and spread. The basket bounces and topples over, and their cans of Manta roll out.
“Good one, man,” Akira says, with no real edge. He unfolds the blanket and then takes a seat.
This is a good spot - they’ve found a little hill to set up shop on, which gives them a good view of the cherry blossoms in full bloom.
Ryuji sits down next to Akira, raiding their basket for a snack as soon as his ass has hit the ground. Akira flops onto his back, staring at the blue-grey sky peeking at them between the branches of cherry blossom trees. It’s a little chilly, and a bit damp since it rained in the morning, but the sky’s clear now. The clouds are thin and wispy, and the wind carries a gentle, floral scent.
“You know, days like this always remind me of when we first met,” Akira says, watching the blossoms sway in the gentle spring breeze. He shifts, laying down on his side and propping his head up in one hand.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Remember, it was in April, my first day at Shujin.”
“Of course I remember, dude. But why does this make you think of it?”
Akira fidgets, picking a petal up off the grass and rubbing it between his fingers. “It was cherry blossom season. I remember standing under an awning to stay out of the rain and looking at how the petals floated in the puddles on the sidewalk. And then you came running up out of nowhere, pissed off about Kamoshida. I didn’t even know who Kamoshida was back then.”
Ryuji’s looking at him, head tilted, like he’s sprouted another head or something.
“Why’re you looking at me like that? Did I say something weird?”
“Nah, man. I just don’t think about that kind of thing very much. It seems like forever ago.”
Akira shrugs. “It does feel like a lifetime ago. But I think about that day a lot. I mean, that was when everything started. If we hadn’t ended up in the palace that day, there would’ve been no Phantom Thieves at all.”
“I guess so,” Ryuji looks away. “I never thought of it that way.”
“It was you who activated the metanav that day, too. Do you remember?”
“Huh? Me? I don’t remember that.”
“Yeah, you ran up talking about Kamoshida. We didn’t know it then but you must’ve said the keywords to his palace.”
Ryuji’s looking at him again, chewing his bottom lip absently. Akira admires him - the way the soft spring breeze rustles his hair; the way he looks, backdropped against the beautiful greens and pinks of the scenery.
“I guess it was me. Huh.”
“You’ve really never thought about it? Meeting you that day changed everything .”
Ryuji’s cheeks and ears go red. He scratches the back of his head, eyes darting away from Akira’s gaze.
“Geez, man, sayin’ it like that makes it sound real sappy.”
“Sorry. Does that embarrass you? Do you not feel that way?”
“Huh? I mean, no - of course I feel that way about it. Meeting you changed my life, dude. I don’t even wanna think about where I’d be if I hadn’t met you. But you make it sound like I was some… huge part of some kinda grand scheme or somethin’.”
“But you were, right?” Akira blinks at him. “You were the whole reason everything took off in the first place. Not only are you the reason we discovered the metaverse at all, but you’re the one who lead the charge in confronting Kamoshida. You might not think so, but it’s true. Without you, there would be no Phantom Thieves.” Akira nudges him with his elbow and adds, “Plus, without you, being in Tokyo would’ve sucked so bad I can’t even imagine it. Who would I have played Punch Ouch or gone to the fishing pond with?”
Still, Akira feels a sort of sadness welling up inside him. Ryuji doesn’t think he was a major part of the Phantom Thieves? He was there from the beginning. He was the reason they discovered the metaverse. He was by Akira’s side through every shadow, every trial and tribulation, every high and low. Of course he was a major part in everything.
“Ah. c’mon, man,” Ryuji sighs, kicking his legs out in front of him and leaning back on his hands. “Now you’re just tryin’ to sweet talk me.”
“Am not,” Akira argues. “You’d know if I was. I’d be all like ‘Ryuji, you’re the coolest!’ and ‘Ryuji, you’re the smartest guy I know!’”
Ryuji laughs, the sound like a melody in the cool spring air. Akira watches how his profile changes; how the corners of his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches up a bit; and does his best to burn the moment into his memory.
“Now that’s just lying,” Ryuji says, a smile in his voice. Then he flops backwards onto the picnic blanket, bleached hair contrasting against the blue gingham fabric.
And just like that, they’re laying beside one another, Ryuji on his back, limbs sprawled out like a starfish, and Akira on his side, head resting in his hand as he looks at Ryuji. Akira reaches his free hand over to brush some stray hairs from Ryuji’s face, hand coming to rest on Ryuji’s warm cheek.
“I love you,” he says, for no reason except that he feels it. Beneath his palm, he can feel Ryuji’s cheek get warmer.
“Love you, too, dude.”
“You’re my best friend.”
“Yeah, you, too.”
“Meeting you changed my life.”
“Now you’re just bein’ sappy again.”
“Even if the Phantom Thieves had never happened, I think we would’ve been friends anyway. I would’ve loved you anyway.”
“Dude,” Ryuji groans, trying to turn his flushed face away. Akira, hand still on Ryuji’s cheek, gently turns Ryuji’s head back around to make eye contact again.
“It’s true,” Akira says, leaning over and pelting Ryuji’s face with little kisses - across his pink cheeks, his little shaved brows, the corner of his smile.
Beneath him, Ryuji laughs, squirming and turning his head this way and that. At last, Ryuji gets an arm around Akira’s neck and pulls him down so his head rests on Ryuji’s shoulder, effectively stopping Akira’s show of affection.
“You really think we’d be together even if there had been no Phantom Thieves?” He asks, staring up at the sky.
From his spot on Ryuji’s shoulder, Akira admires how the sunlight drapes itself across his face - it lays on the high spots of his cheeks and dances in his honey toned eyes.
“Yeah, I do,” he answers. “I mean, we were in the same boat at school, right? Two outcasts nobody wanted to associate with, labeled as troublemakers. Ann, Makoto, Mishima, they all gave me a chance eventually, but without the Phantom Thieves I don’t think they and I would have ever been friends. You, though? We were friends from the start.”
Ryuji’s quiet for a moment.
“That’s kind of a nice thought,” he finally says. “That we would’ve ended up here no matter what.” He turns to look at Akira, still resting his head on Ryuji’s shoulder, and the two wind up nose-to-nose, sharing the same space in the cool spring afternoon. “You were the first person to give me a chance since the track team stuff. I really don’t wanna think about what would have happened to me if I hadn’t met you. I’ve told you before, my place is next to you, dude. Who knows where I would’ve ended up if I hadn’t found it.”
“You saved my ass, too, you know. Don’t give me all the credit. Wasn’t it you who swooped in to save me and Akechi from Sumire’s persona that day in January?”
“Everyone else was there, too.”
“But you’re the one who took the hit to protect me.”
Ryuji frowns.
“I still feel bad about all that. I can’t believe we’ve been through so much together and I just… forgot it all. Just like that. Like it didn’t mean anything.”
“It’s fine,” Akira does his best approximation of a shrug while laying on his side like this. “You snapped out of it. No hard feelings.”
Ryuji turns away again, brows drawn together, still frowning.
“I know you forgive me,” he says. “But it’s… ugh! I dunno!” He sits up, scratching the back of his head. “It’s just that… without you, and the Phantom Thieves, and even all the shit with the track team, I don’t think I’d even be me , y’know? I can’t believe I just threw it all away like it was nothing.” His shoulders fall into a sad, slumped shape.
Akira sits up, too. Ryuji’s got his back to him now, picking at a cherry blossom petal and not making eye contact.
“You’re not being very fair to yourself, man,” Akira says. “It’s not like you’re the only one who was under Maruki’s spell. You came back around, so no harm done.”
“I guess.”
It’s only a few days before his probation ends, and then he’ll be homeward bound. This might be the last time for a while that he gets to spend time with Ryuji like this, just the two of them. He doesn’t want Ryuji to spend the whole day bummed out about what happened in January - that feels like ancient history by now, anyway.
“Hey, no being sad today, dude. Or I might not want to go on a second date with you.” He reaches over, sliding his hand into Ryuji’s and giving it a little squeeze. It’s funny, even though it’s been a few months since they last had to fight in the Metaverse, he can still feel the calluses on Ryuji’s palm, built up over a year of swinging those heavy bludgeons around.
“This is already, like, our fifth date,” Ryuji retorts, a little smile returning to his face. It’s slight, just a hint of sunshine peeking out from behind his cloudy mood, but it’s there.
“Fifth? What do you count as our first?”
“Uh… the first time we went to that jazz club, maybe?”
Akira rolls his eyes, exaggerating the motion. “He doesn’t even know when our first date was.”
“What? When do you think it was?” Ryuji’s smile widens; the clouds part a little bit more.
“Obviously it was when we went fishing on your birthday.”
“Dude, no way. I didn’t even know I had a crush on you back then.”
“...But you did have a crush on me at that point?”
Ryuji turns his head away again, but Akira can still see the tips of ears go pink.
“I dunno. Hard to say.”
“What’s ‘hard to say’ about it?’ Akira laughs. “You either did or you didn’t.”
“I dunno! We were just bros at first, but then I started noticing how pretty you are, or how cool you were in the Metaverse, or how cute your laugh is. It’s not like it all happened at once, dude. It just… happened. Over time. I dunno when it started, it just… did.”
“That’s adorable.”
“Shut up,” Ryuji groans. “It’s whatever. When did you start having a crush on me?”
Akira thinks on this question for a moment. He’d teased Ryuji for not knowing, but he doesn’t really know either - they were friends, and Akira loved him as a friend, and somewhere along the lines that morphed into a different kind of love. It’s impossible to know when that shift began, though. He’s loved Ryuji in some way for so long; all of his love and affection for Ryuji is part of the same feeling - it’s not like he woke up one day with a brand new affection he’d never felt before. It’s the same feeling in different forms; like different points on a color gradient. Where does one end and the other begin? Is there even really an answer?
“I’m not sure,” he admits. “I always loved you, man, but when did I fall in love with you? Your guess is as good as mine.”
Ryuji snorts. “My guess is when we went to that jazz club the first time.”
“I already told you that wasn’t our first date!”
“I know, because your idea of our first date is having our fishing hang-out crashed by our teacher and getting totally shown up by her.”
“Yeah,” Akira grins. “Nothing’s more romantic.”
Ryuji’s quiet for a while, gaze cast out at the rows of cherry blossom trees. Akira sits next to him, still holding his hand, and watches the delicate pink branches sway in the breeze.
“Maybe I had a crush on you the whole time,” Ryuji finally says, glancing at Akira from the corner of his eye. “Or somethin’. I’ve loved you the whole time, at least. In whatever way.”
“Me, too. Like I said, I’m pretty sure I would’ve loved you - in whatever way - no matter what.”
“You really believe in all that fate stuff?”
“Hm… no, not really. I don’t mean to imply that we’re, like, fated soulmates or anything. I just mean I think we would’ve still been friends. And from there, I would have loved you. Even without the Metaverse or Personas or anything.”
“That sounds like fate, man.”
“No, it’s not! I mean, I would have still chosen to be your friend, and spend our free afternoons reading manga in my room or having ramen or whatever. I’m saying, if I had a choice, I’d pick you. That’s all I really mean - I would pick you again, in a world where things were different. I’d still pick you. Even if we were both popular, with lots of choices, and not stuck with each other like we were, I’d have picked you. And as long as I chose to be your friend, loving you would be inevitable. I don’t think we’d have ended up together because of fate, I think so because I think I still would have chosen to be.”
Ryuji’s gazing at him, eyebrows slanted and eyes soft, a fond little smile on his face. “You’re so effin’ sappy, dude, holy shit.”
“Yeah, whatever, you’re one to talk. I seem to recall you telling me once that ‘free is how I feel when I’m talking to you.’” Akira shifts, bringing his knees up to rest his arms on them. Above him, the wispy little clouds from earlier have grown and darkened, threatening rain.
“That was forever ago, though,” Ryuji argues, throwing the tab off his soda can at Akira. It bounces off Akira’s elbow harmlessly.
“Stupidly sweet things said forever ago still count towards making you a grade-A, capital-s sap.”
The breeze is picking up, shaking petals off the trees and creating a little flowerfall around them. It’s nice. Being here with Ryuji is nice - being with Ryuji anywhere is nice, of course. But it’s good to have this time together before Akira leaves Tokyo. In a few days he’ll leave for his hometown, and then what? The thought makes his chest tight, like he’s suffocating beneath an invisible weight.
“You look upset, man.” Ryuji says. Akira can see a little drop of rain fall onto his cheek.
“Just thinking about the end of this week.”
Ryuji frowns. “I’ve just been trying to pretend it ain’t happening,” he says.
“You’re sure you’re okay doing the long-distance thing?” Akira asks, and he feels the cold touch of a raindrop on his arm.
“Of course. Not like we have much of a choice, anyway.”
Akira feels like his chest is too small to hold all of his feelings; like he could suffocate beneath the weight of them all. But something about Ryuji’s words help lift some of the gloom. They do have a choice, of course - they could break up. But to Ryuji, the only choice is to stay together and endure long-distance - it’s a no-brainer; breaking up isn’t even an option to him. Not that breaking up was really an option to Akira, either - he loves Ryuji far too much to consider that - but it’s nice to hear the same sentiment from Ryuji.
“It’s raining,” Akira says, rather than voice any of these feelings. “We should pack up before the rain gets too bad - we still have to walk back to the station.”
Ryuji groans, sinking into a defeated slouch. “Do we gotta?”
“It depends, do you want to catch a cold?”
They pack up their picnic, folding the blanket up. Since the food is gone and there’s room in the basket, they cram the blanket inside. The rain picks up quickly, and by the time they start for the station it’s evolved from a slow drizzle to a downpour.
Still, even though Akira feels like a drowned rat and is beginning to shiver, the walk back to the station is good. He jumps in a puddle to splash Ryuji, and gets puddle water kicked at him in retaliation. He picks up a worm on the sidewalk and threatens to put it down the back of Ryuji’s shirt, before placing the worm safely in the grass. It’s cold and rainy and he knows there’s a clock ticking down until he has to say goodbye.
But it’s good despite all of that - he gets to hear Ryuji laugh; see the raindrops collect in his eyelashes and the spikes of his hair. They’re together, so of course it’s good. And it will be okay when he has to leave Tokyo, too, because they’ll still have each other - even if they’re miles apart, he knows Ryuji loves him. That’s really all he needs.