Work Text:
“You really want to work in here?” Akira asks, raising an eyebrow.
Yusuke nods. “Yes, if I wouldn’t be terribly in the way. I understand that the boss does have a business to run. I will be happy to make a purchase at the start of the day to justify my presence, if that would help.”
Akira shrugs, which does not communicate much. He still looks thoughtful, so Yusuke deigns to stay quiet and let him think it through.
He wouldn’t ask, but a new opportunity cropped up this last week that has left him in search of inspiration. More specifically, he was contacted about being selected for a grant—one that Yusuke didn’t even realise he’d applied for. There are only a few conditions, and none of them are particularly difficult to fulfil. The program is described as a launch pad for aspiring artists, a means of funding the young and talented, and Yusuke’s name happened to come up during deliberations.
Essentially, this organisation has offered Yusuke a great sum of money in exchange for the creation of a piece of artwork. A no-strings-attached bit of support; again, a launch pad, as they’ve called themselves. The descriptor seems apt, though there are no parameters for Yusuke’s work, just that he has to complete it within the coming weeks and display it at one of their galleries, which will be taking place early next year. Yusuke could conceivably paint anything—could really repurpose an old piece of artwork, if he wanted to—and it isn’t as if he hasn’t had ideas since the opportunity arose, some that might even be useful to this purpose.
But for such a large amount of money—and such a special occasion, it wouldn’t be right to phone it in. Yusuke has battled with his inspiration and come out with the conclusion that not everything he paints needs to be an absolutely sincere masterpiece, but for this, he’d at least like it to mean something. Painting the tree outside his dorm room just doesn’t really cut it; he wants to paint something special.
He’s been a few places for inspiration already, and the efforts haven’t been entirely fruitless. Yusuke has a few sketches down that he thinks might work, but he’s still been left with something of a restless feeling, one that he’s been grappling with all week. Until yesterday, when it hit him. It seemed obvious in retrospect, where he should go to get his brush wet. There is nowhere else on earth that makes Yusuke feel more comfortable to create.
Akira cups his chin in his hand. “Well, it’s fine,” he says, “you didn’t have to ask. As long as you’re buying something, customers stay in all day. It isn’t a problem.” He nudges the door open—Yusuke had showed up a bit before opening, without any prior notice, on a bit of an impulse—to let Yusuke inside before shuffling back behind the counter. “I’ll make you something to drink. Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“No, please do not concern yourself with my endeavour,” Yusuke responds. He picks up his materials and follows Akira into the shop, taking in a deep breath through his nose, letting the familiar smell of coffee and curry spices wash over him. A glance at his mother’s painting puts a slight smile on his face, lets the stress of the decision that has been weighing on his mind ease into more of a background murmur. “Just being here alone will help me to get the creative juices flowing. If you ever feel particularly inclined to do something interesting, however, I will not complain.”
Akira glances back at him, the slightest of smirks touching his lips. “Oh yeah?” He steps behind the counter and picks up his phone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Yusuke, with more important things to focus on right now than his former leader’s mischief, pays Akira no mind. Rather, he takes himself to the back of the shop and begins setting up his easel, preparing for a long day of work.
About an hour after Leblanc opens, Yusuke’s work flow is interrupted by a pair of cerulean eyes, peaking out at him from over the top of the easel. It takes him a moment to pull away from the browns he’d been blocking down as the tables and stools, his brain sluggishly fighting through the transition from painting to socialising.
“Ah,” Yusuke finally says, when his brain reconnects to his mouth. “Ann. Hello.”
“Hey, Yusuke,” Ann says, and snickers. At her side, Yusuke realises, is Suzui Shiho, the girl who Ann joined the Phantom Thieves to protect. It’s been a while since then, with the both of them attending the same university now. Suzui still walks with a leg brace, but no longer seems to be in any need of protecting. She also smiles when their eyes meet, and Yusuke nods at her to convey his respect. They’ve never really spoken. “Sorry to interrupt, just noticed you here and wanted to come say hi.”
“Can I take a look at what you’re painting?” Suzui asks. To her credit, she does not lean over and peek before Yusuke gives her permission, though it wouldn’t be a problem if she did.
Yusuke nods. “It isn’t anything especially interesting so far. I’m merely colour blocking at this juncture.” He nudges his easel back to provide Suzui a better view, and the woman leans in close, her hair falling into her eyes as her hand cups around her chin. She has a scrutinising look on her face that is somewhat intimidating, yet simultaneously intriguing. Yusuke leans back to get a proper look of his own.
“You know, Shiho’s a bit of an art critic herself,” Ann comments, slinging an arm around Yusuke’s shoulders. Yusuke allows this, patting the back of Ann’s hand distractedly.
“Oh, stop,” Suzui huffs a laugh, “you and him aren’t anywhere near on the same level.”
“Ouch! Shiho!”
“I didn’t specify who was better,” Suzui continues, but from the grin on her face, it’s clear what she’d meant.
Yusuke clears his throat. “Ann is an artist of a different medium. I would never be able to model an outfit with the same finesse.”
“I know that’s right,” Ann chuckles, and perks back up after. “It’s okay, I’m never going to be a Van Gogh or anything like that. This looks really good, by the way.” She squints between the easel and the shop, her lips pursed in obvious thought. “It’s the shop, right?”
“Of course it’s the shop,” Suzui says, aghast. “He’s sitting right here and painting in brown.”
“Well! I didn’t want to assume!” Ann huffs.
Yusuke leans out from under Ann’s embrace, and she catches the hint, letting her arm fall to the side. He truthfully doesn’t mind the touch, but it’s sort of hard to focus through, and he’s had a sudden thought. While Ann and Suzui continue to bicker, Yusuke picks up his pencil and his sketchbook, flipping to a blank page. There is something very distinctive about the way they circle each other, how both of them gesticulate so dramatically—yet, at the same time, their eyes glow with such unimaginable fondness. Yusuke is pleased to have witnessed it, if only once.
As Yusuke’s pencil flies over his page, Ann trails off mid sentence, her eyes flitting in his direction. “...Oh, I guess we’re distracting you, huh? Sorry about that, Yusuke.”
“Please, you needn’t worry yourself,” Yusuke mutters, though he admittedly isn’t devoting his full attention to being reassuring. “Continue on as you were, pay no attention to me.”
Suzui lets out a snort. When Yusuke glances at her face again, she looks almost knowing. “We’d better head out, anyway. Ann’s going to be late for her next shoot. Just wanted to stop in and grab a coffee.”
“I am—?” Ann blinks, then her eyes pop open wide. “Oh! I mean, yeah, yeah, we’ll be late. Uhhh, bye, see you later Yusuke!”
“Good luck with the painting,” Suzui adds, through a smirk.
Their theatrical behaviour will later register to Yusuke as odd; for now, he’s too busy assessing his paints, plotting out which he’s going to use to mix a blue that matches the exact shade of Ann’s eyes.
Akira swings by Yusuke’s station around midday with a bowl of curry and another coffee. He’s moved on from colour matching to sketching out figures: a couple at the table in front of him, Ann and Suzui at the front mid-argument, the door ajar to reveal someone new. Akira only glances briefly at the canvas before he passes off the items.
“Take a break to eat,” Akira suggests.
Yusuke sighs. He knows it’s important to, but it can be so difficult getting out of the artistic mindset to focus on self-care. Akira is very rarely wrong about these things, though, so he does as instructed, pushing back his seat and accepting the proffered food. The coffee is still hot, so Yusuke blows on it before he takes a sip, then picks up his spoon.
“Heyyyy, Yusuke! Akira said you were hanging out in here!”
Yusuke pauses with his spoon halfway to his mouth, leaning over to peer around his easel. It is, of course, Ryuji—not that Yusuke knows anyone else who talks like that—but he’s pleasantly surprised to see that Ryuji is accompanied by Haru, who Yusuke doesn’t get to see quite as often.
“He did, did he?” Yusuke raises an eyebrow, setting his spoon back down. “Yes. Although I would not describe my current position as hanging out, necessarily… I am attempting to do a painting.”
“Oh yeah? Can I see?” Unlike Suzui, Ryuji doesn’t wait for a response, coming around to look at Yusuke’s canvas. “Hey, man, that’s not bad! Is that Akira behind the counter?”
Yusuke grunts. It is clearly Akira. Sakura Sojiro doesn’t have that hair texture. He does nod, though, because while Ryuji’s interest may be loud, it’s still the interest of a friend. From the other side of the easel, Haru lets out a giggle, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Sorry if we’re interrupting your lunch break,” Haru says. “I was in the area today, so when Ryuji texted, I thought I would come by… You should really eat, though, if you’ve been working all morning. I know you tend to get really focused on your work.”
“...Ah, right,” Yusuke mumbles, noticing the spoon still in his hand. He takes the bite of curry he’d forgotten about. It’s exactly as wonderful as it always is, warm and hearty, clearly a fresh batch. Akira has never been known to slack off on tending to customers and friends. Having eaten one spoonful reminds Yusuke of how hungry he’d gotten, and he neglects to continue speaking in the interest of eating more. It doesn’t seem to bother Ryuji, who is still squinting at the unfinished painting with an arm slung over Yusuke’s head.
“I like how you got The Sayuri there,” Ryuji comments, gesturing. “It kinda sticks out with the outline. It’s cool. You know I took one of those art history lectures? I uh, almost failed it, but they talked about this shit about how paintings draw your eyes or whatever, and that was pretty awesome. I didn’t realise how much painters planned out!”
Haru waits for Yusuke to give her a permissive nod before she comes around to stand at his other shoulder. “It really is a subtle genius, isn’t it?” she agrees, tilting her head to the side. “It sort of boggles the mind the more you think about it. Everything in a painting had to have been put there on purpose… It’s nothing like life, where things are largely incidental so much of the time.” She lets out another giggle. “You do amaze me sometimes, Yusuke.”
Swallowing, Yusuke asks, “Not all of the time?” and smiles when it makes Haru laugh again.
“You’re working for some grant thing right? Didn’t read the article Akira sent,” Ryuji admits. He’s still got a hand on Yusuke’s head, and drums his fingers against his forehead. Which is distracting, but Yusuke is only eating, so he supposes it isn’t the worst thing ever. “But it sounds pretty cool. ‘Course you’d come back here though. I mean, coffeeshops are great for people watching.”
“Especially here,” Haru muses. “The regulars who come in are so interesting… That doctor that Akira is friends with, isn’t she so pretty? I’d love to talk to her someday.”
Ryuji’s brows furrow. “Y’think so? I think she’s kinda scary.”
“Such things are not always mutually exclusive,” Yusuke says around a mouthful of rice. He swallows it and uses his spoon to scoop the remaining curry from the edges of the bowl. He really had been hungry. “Have you two come only with the intention of watching me? I will not mind an audience, but I must warn you, it may not be as interesting as you are hoping.”
Haru smiles, resting a light hand on Yusuke’s shoulder and sliding her palm down the length of his bicep. “We didn’t really come here to be entertained, it was just to see you and cheer you on,” Haru explains. “If you’re done with your lunch break, though, we’ll stop distracting you.”
“I—huh?” Ryuji frowns, then frowns deeper when Haru takes his wrist and tugs him away. “Haru, weren’t we—”
“Shhhh, come on,” Haru giggles. They must be scheming something, but Yusuke’s too focused on drinking some more coffee to wash down the curry, so he doesn’t pay much attention to it. Instead, he picks his paintbrush back up, leaning in towards his canvas to continue adding details.
His eyes glance back towards the counter, where Haru and Ryuji have retreated. Akira serves them both coffee, and Yusuke watches as Ryuji valiantly fights a grimace after taking a large gulp. The bright laugh Haru lets out in response rings through the café, and Akira appears to be suppressing a smirk as well, but sets another mug on the counter in the next moment. When Ryuji drinks from this one, he seems much more satisfied, so Yusuke can only assume that it’s hot chocolate instead. Ryuji has much more tolerance for sweet drinks than bitter ones.
Humming, Yusuke refocuses on his canvas. A small, fond smile comes onto his face. There is space already at the counter, so it’s a simple matter, sketching in his two friends. The two of them stay for long enough for Yusuke to get their positions down, though he’s only really trying to replicate the broad strokes, because what he’s actually interested in capturing is the exact moment that Ryuji drank the hot chocolate, and the way Akira and Haru both smiled at him at the same time.
“Don’t your hands ever get sore working for that long?”
Yusuke glances down to where Morgana has curled up on the floor beside him. Ryuji and Haru took off about an hour ago, leaving the shop empty save for one of the older regulars, seated at a table near the front. Far enough away that Yusuke thinks he can get away with muttering to the cat.
“Yes, though I rarely notice when I’m in the zone,” Yusuke murmurs. “It is a more pressing concern on days when I struggle to find inspiration.”
“Wasn’t that why you came here?” Morgana’s tail flicks back and forth and he watches Yusuke work with wide blue eyes. He makes for a charming cat, particularly when he’s interested in something and his pupils dilate. Yusuke purses his lips thoughtfully, then begins sketching out a round shape at the front of the piece, approximately where Morgana is positioned in relation to the rest of the painting.
“Not necessarily. Inspiration can be found anywhere in life… I just wanted to do something special for this particular challenge.”
“You’re such a perfectionist, Inari!”
Yusuke’s lips purse further, this time with distaste. He hadn’t noticed Futaba, though he supposes she must’ve been lingering nearby, probably with the intent of spending time with Morgana. He doesn’t turn his head to look at her, but that doesn’t seem to bother Futaba any, because she slings herself across his back with her arms draped over his shoulders, squinting at the canvas with their cheeks pressed together.
Futaba, Yusuke gently steers away by the forehead. “You’re disrupting my work flow.”
“Your work flow is lame! Can’t you take three minutes?”
Yusuke grunts. Of course he can, but he won’t. Particularly while he’s trying to capture the exact curve of Morgana’s back. He thinks this is an important enough endeavour to ignore Futaba even as she blows air in his ear.
“Hey. Heeeeyyyyy. Aren’t you bored, even a little? Don’t you want to get up and stretch your legs?”
“Do you often feel that way while tinkering around on your computer? It is a similar concept.”
“No it’s not! There’s so much to do on the computer. You’re just looking at the same old canvas all this time. Although—” Futaba pauses, then squints at Yusuke’s work. She’s still half-hanging off him, on account of the fact that Yusuke hadn’t really cared enough to fully extricate her. “It actually does look pretty good… You have to give more detail to the curry pot, though.”
“I hardly see why. It is not the focus of my piece.”
“Well, it should be! How’s anyone going to recognise it’s Leblanc without the curry?”
Furrowing his brow, Yusuke very pointedly uses his pencil to sketch out a bowl on one of the tables. “Does this satisfy you?”
“Nope! You’re no fun at all.” Futaba, to contrast her words, is grinning. She finally does pull off of Yusuke’s back, and Yusuke swats at her for extra measure, leaning closer to his canvas so she won’t see him smiling too. “Morgana told me about what you and Akira were talking about, earlier. You’re doing this for some grant thing, right? Is there anything I can do to help? Those programs are pretty cut-throat.”
“They can be, but I do not believe that is the case with this one,” Yusuke murmurs. He switches back to his paintbrush, pulling out his palette again to begin mixing blues. Ann’s eyes are more of a sea green, but Morgana’s are sapphire blue, deep and intense. Most cats do have pretty striking eyes. “You needn’t do anything other than what you would usually… Aside, of course, from making an active effort at annoying me.”
“You said nothing other than what I do usually,” Futaba accuses, and Yusuke sighs. He supposes he walked right into that one. When Futaba grins at him again, he shakes his head and waves her off, coughing so he won’t get caught lacking with another smile.
With the conversation more or less over and done with, Futaba crouches to scoop up Morgana, swinging him around like one of those ferret videos. Unfortunately, Morgana is a cat, who does not particularly care for the swinging the way that ferrets do, and he has a lot to say about this development.
Yusuke squints at Futaba while she spins around in front of the bar, then uses his pencil to sketch her in in that exact pose; without Morgana, but spinning in circles, arms in the air, front and centre of the painting.
Makoto comes in an hour before closing, a bag slung over her shoulder and her arms full of folders, flustered and overwhelmed, her hair a bit of a mess. That law degree clearly isn’t treating her very well. Unlike the rest of their friends, she doesn’t greet Yusuke whatsoever, instead taking a seat at the table nearest to him and letting her belongings collapse out of her grasp, letting out a long, beleaguered sigh before she starts to dig through her backpack.
When she re-emerges with a pencil, Yusuke spares her a glance. “It is too early for finals.”
“Midterms,” Makoto responds with a groan. “Hi, Yusuke. Sorry I didn’t say anything, I’m just—”
“Please,” Yusuke waves her off, “you needn’t concern yourself. I have work to do myself.”
Makoto slumps, like she’s relieved. Yusuke doesn’t bother to smile at her, figuring she probably wouldn’t notice it right now anyway, and turns his attention back to his work. There is a lot of fine detail work that requires his attention right now. He hadn’t planned it, but somehow he’d ended up with a painting full of figures, all with their own idiosyncrasies and personalities to capture through paint, and Yusuke wouldn’t want to do any of them a disservice. Pulling out a smaller paintbrush, Yusuke narrows his eyes and starts in on Suzui, tackling his friends one at a time.
The hour passes in silence, with only the ambient sounds of the coffee shop, the pencil scratching from Makoto, and the low hum of jazz present in the background. Yusuke finally leans back to stretch out his neck with about five minutes to closing, squinting at his painting from further away. It doesn’t look bad, but there’s an empty space on the lower right corner that he isn’t happy about. It would be the perfect place to put Makoto, but a glance at her reveals that she still has that stressed look on her face, a hand in her hair, and he wouldn’t really want to capture her in such a state. It feels unflattering.
As he often does, Akira shows up at just the right time to divert Yusuke’s train of thought, two mugs in hand.
“Decaf this time,” Akira tells Yusuke, as he passes him his. With a softer look, he slides the second mug across the table to Makoto, who jolts when she notices it, as if she hadn’t heard him coming.
“Oh,” Makoto says, and looks from the mug to their friend. A tired smile crosses her face. “Thank you. Sorry, I didn’t say hi to you either on the way in, huh?”
“No problem.” Akira takes the seat across from her. “Midterms?”
“Yeah. I…” Makoto shakes her head. “I made the mistake of taking four exam courses this quarter, and it’s really biting me in the butt right now… I’ve been having stress dreams in the middle of the day, that’s how bad it is.” She lets out a laugh, curling the fingers of both her hands around the base of her mug. Taking in a deep breath, Makoto lets her shoulders slump as she drinks from the cup.
Yusuke picks up his pencil.
“You’re smarter than anyone else in those courses, you’re going to be fine,” Akira tells her. Makoto offers him another smile, and Yusuke hums his agreement, even as he’s distracted capturing the curve of Makoto’s hair, the softness of her closed eyes. He’s gunning to get that first moment that she picked up the mug, when some of the tension finally left her shoulders, so he has to work sort of quickly so he doesn’t forget it.
Makoto rubs the side of her neck. “It’s about closing time, huh? I’ll finish this and pack up. Wouldn’t want to keep you here late.” She glances over at Yusuke and tilts her head. “You’re working on a piece for a grant, right…? I think I remember someone mentioning that earlier today, how’s that going?”
“You would not have heard it from me, I only told Akira,” Yusuke murmurs. “But yes, I’m doing—” Yusuke pauses, then frowns, leaning back from the easel. “Akira.”
“Hm?” Akira smiles, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the matter?”
Yusuke furrows his brow. Of course, it should’ve hit him first thing this morning, when Ann started using her lying voice; she’s never been particularly subtle. He’s been so distracted all day, though, and for good reason. The appearance of all of his friends has left him with a wealth of things to focus on trying to depict. Taking another look at his canvas, which will take days to finish refining, Yusuke sees not only Leblanc, but a setting that is teeming with life and energy, with the people who inspire him the most.
Certainly, worthy of a submission for such a program.
“You are quite the calculated man, Akira,” Yusuke says finally.
“Did he do something?” Makoto asks, frowning, as she slides her binder back into her bag.
“Nah, Yusuke’s been the one painting,” Akira says with a grin. “I’m going to close up, but you’re welcome to stay and keep working. Just head out the back and text me when you’re gone, so I can run back over and lock the door.” He gets to his feet and stretches, picking up Makoto’s cup by the handle. “Wash your cup, too.”
“But of course,” Yusuke murmurs. He pauses again, just for a moment, to watch Makoto pull her bag over her shoulder. “Will you be alright, Makoto? You do seem to be spread rather thin right now.”
“I’ll make it through,” Makoto promises with a sigh. “Can I take a look at your piece before I head out? You’ve been working so hard on it, it’s got to be pretty incredible.”
Yusuke purses his lips. “It is a bit rough at the moment, but I do believe I’ve finalised everything I want to include.” He pushes back the easel to give Makoto a better look, watches for her reaction. Particularly when she’s tired, Makoto’s feelings are always pretty easy to read on her face. Her brows soften, and her lips part in a genuine, if exhausted, smile.
“I can see what you mean about rough, but wow,” Makoto says. “I can’t wait to see it finished. Good luck, okay? Text me if you need anything. Thanks, Akira,” she adds, glancing at him as she picks up her binders. Akira offers her a two-fingered salute from the sink.
As the door opens and closes to indicate Makoto’s exit, Yusuke returns his attention to his canvas. He has much to do, after all, even with a fruitful day of work. He doubts he’ll be getting very much sleep tonight, but that is a grind he’s very familiar with. Akira leaves him with another bowl of curry and yet another drink, and a request that he call if anything goes wrong at the shop, or if he needs anything else.
Yusuke processes it, of course, and is even aware on some level of his appreciation—not just for Akira, but for the rest of their friends as well—but for the most part, his attention is on his work. He came to Leblanc for inspiration, and he got it, which means he’ll be riding the high of that until this piece is absolutely perfect.
It is not, at this juncture, something that Yusuke is necessarily very concerned about. He has plenty of support in making it so, after all.