Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Over the last two hours, the skyscrapers and populated city stations gave way to open farm fields and the rise and fall of hills on the horizon. Despite the pleasant scenery, Akira still felt the same feeling riding this particular train as he did riding in the back of a police car to the station after his first arrest. That time, he had no idea what to expect. All he knew was what he’d seen on TV. Dark interrogation rooms, shouting detectives, and the painful rub of handcuffs cutting off circulation to his hands. By a twist of fate, his second arrest was exactly as he’d seen in movies but worse somehow. He shuddered at the remembrance and rubbed his tired eyes.

Morgana was snoozing at his side, leg hanging lazily out of Akira’s bag. As his trip had continued, he’d watched as nearly every single passenger aside from him had departed. He glanced around to give his eyes a break from staring out the window. As he did, the train’s intercom came to life with a pleasant chime.

“Attention passengers, we will be approaching Inaba in a couple of minutes. I repeat, we will be approaching Inaba in a couple of minutes,” the crackly voice said, concluding with a pop of the speakers.

Inaba.

Akira sank further into his seat.

It was a fine town, but it was never home. Home was where you felt safe, right? Home was that dingy attic above a backstreet cafe. Home was Sojiro’s silent approval and a hand hiding a proud smile when Akira worked the counter. When the others would come over and cause a racket above the store while Akira busied himself with making coffee for them. Sometimes, Akira would stand at the bottom of the stairs and listen to the cacophony of footsteps and conversation above him. Just to savor that feeling of having a place to be for a moment longer. A place he wanted to be, for that matter.

Inaba was just a place. A place he was forced to be in. If Akira had his way, he would have been happy to spend as long as possible in Tokyo. But he didn’t even bother asking his parents. It was pointless. Akira reasoned he could only be told “no” so many times before he could just answer the question in his head and save himself the confrontation. Besides, he hadn’t heard a single word from his parents since he left. They rushed him off to the station the morning of April 9th and that was the last time he had heard from them. It was disconcerting at first to not have them breathing down his neck, but he got used to it once he realized how free he was. Even at first, when he wasn’t allowed to go out at night, being able to spend time by himself without fear of something happening was a welcome feeling. No interruptions.

It was nice while it lasted.

Akira unplugged the cable connecting his phone to the provided charging port, shoved the cable into the side pouch on his bag, and slipped his phone into his pocket. He gently shook Morgana awake.

“Hmm…?” Morgana mumbled. “Almost there?”

Akira nodded and Morgana flipped over so Akira could partially zip the bag over him.

Mom hates cats, so here’s hoping Dad can sway her approval. I don’t think they would go for the “not a cat” argument anyway.

Akira tried not to think about what would happen if they weren’t okay with it. Maybe they would think of it as a sign that Akira had “grown” into a productive member of society, capable of keeping something else alive. If anything, Morgana had kept Akira alive, but they didn’t need to know that.

The train slowed to a stop as Akira stood up and walked towards the door with his bag. The doors opened with a mechanical clank and he stepped out into the cool now-spring air. Being accustomed to Tokyo, he unconsciously braced for crowds and chatter from all around, but it was eerily quiet.

I am definitely going to have to get used to how quiet it is around here.

With no other way to delay his return, he started the journey to his parent’s house. His last taste of freedom before the rigor of a schedule was forced upon him once again. Akira had tried to purge the memories from this town from his mind, and with everything that had happened in the last year, it wasn’t exactly a challenge to do so. One year older, one year wiser, he was coming to grips with being ready to be tied down once again. It hadn’t quite sunk in, but Akira was thankful for the slightest amount of ignorance for now. He knew he would get the same speech from his mother at the beginning of this year as he had every year.

“Come directly home after school and do your homework, then do your housework. No going out during the week, and I want to speak to your friend’s parents before you are allowed to go over,” his mother would say.

That last rule was part of the reason Akira never had friends after middle school. It was too hard to explain the rigmarole that it took to be allowed to do anything, so he eventually gave up. Akira was pretty sure the rules of his parole were less strict than that, but then again, he had never actually spoken with his parole officer more than once.

Then again, none of that really mattered anymore. He wasn’t planning on making friends in this town anyway. Getting in, finishing school, and getting out was the plan.

Akira kept on walking, eyes fixed firmly ahead of him. He couldn’t ignore the unease he felt since he started walking through the shopping district, but he attributed that to nerves and fatigue from the train journey. It almost felt like he was being watched, but he didn’t see anyone out other than the few shopkeepers closing down for the night. It didn't feel malicious, as much as the hair on the back of his neck tried to convince him. But the feeling of being watched was still just that, so he quickened his pace to escape the situation altogether. It wasn’t until he turned the corner to a side street that the feeling of being watched went away.

Akira stopped in front of his parents’ house, his family name on the placard beside the front gate staring back. Standing there, looking up at the two story house, made him feel as he did when he first entered Kamoshida’s palace. He was an outsider. A trespasser.

There was no use delaying the inevitable, he continued to tell himself, and he pushed the gate open and stepped through. He was expecting to hear the familiar squeak as it clanged shut behind him, but it sounded like his dad finally made good on his threats to grease the hinge over the last year.

Either that or Mom finally got sick of it and made him do it since I wasn’t around.

Akira almost missed it, in a way. What he didn’t miss was the roulette wheel being spun to decide what kind of evening Akira was about to have. Either it would be a fine evening with little conflict, or the exact opposite. The lack of a warning was going to be unpleasant over this next year.

Morgana stirred in Akira’s bag, eventually poking his head out to look around.

“Wow, nice place. You live here?” Morgana said. “Pretty quiet, huh?”

Akira dug into his pocket for his keyring. The house was nothing special, but he was used to it. Maybe with Morgana around, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Maybe.

He slid his key into the lock on the front door. Well, he tried to. Despite his attempts, no amount of effort was going to turn the lock.

“Hm? It doesn’t work?” Morgana said, noticing Akira struggling to turn the key in the lock.

That’s odd. I’d think if they didn’t want me to come back, they would have let Sojiro know somehow. At least to save me the train fare.

Akira removed the key from the lock and glanced at it. It was definitely the right key.

Switching the locks on me is kind of a bold move, but petty and spiteful enough to be in mom’s playbook.

“Hey, there’s something on the door,” Morgana pointed out. “Looks like a note.”

Akira looked up at the piece of paper taped to the door and gracelessly tore it off, leaving a sliver of tape still attached to the brown door, and unfolded it.

The note read: “Changed the locks. Left a spare key with the Dojimas.”

“Oooh, looks like your parents changed the locks while you were gone,” Morgana said. “There’s an address at the bottom of the note. Do the Dojimas live far away?”

Akira shook his head.

“Good, let’s go get that key, then,” Morgana decided. “Unless you want me to break in and pick the lock with my deft paws?”

“Best not to,” Akira replied.

Akira shoved the note into his pocket as he turned around to walk to the Dojima’s house. It wasn’t too far if he was remembering correctly. A few blocks away, at most. The name sounded a little familiar, but that was just life in a small town. Everyone sort of knows everyone, whether you want to or not.

As he walked down the street past the driveway, he glanced over to the covered parking area beside the house. It was empty.

Odd. They should be home by now.

Akira hummed in thought, pulling out his phone to check the time. With a sigh, he put his phone away. Whatever the reason, it wasn't worth thinking about. He walked down the road, the street lights blinking to life around him as the sun started to disappear behind the hills.

The sun was fully set by the time Akira approached the path to the Dojima’s. He checked the address on the house as he walked up the path to the front door. The name was starting to sound really familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. It wasn't the small town-ness, at least. It would probably come to him when he finally met them.

Akira reached out and pressed the buzzer by the door. He immediately heard footsteps padding up to the door and it slid open halfway with a quiet squeak and a head peaked out from behind.

“Can I help you?” Murmured a small voice from inside. A young girl with brown hair tied up in a ponytail looked up at him.

Alright, Akira. Try not to glare.

“Sorry to bother you, but I’ve been told that you have a spare key for the Kurusu residence? I’m their son.” Akira said, mustering up his kindest voice possible. He supposed he already looked a little suspicious ringing a doorbell after dark.

“Gimme a sec,” the girl said, before retreating back into the house.

A few moments later, the door opened again. Akira swore he should’ve recognized the older man, but he just didn’t. Most of the names and faces from this town had already been long forgotten, buried by better memories. The man, probably the girl’s father, stood proud in the doorway. His tie hung loosely from his collar, which had been hastily buttoned down, likely in one motion, judging by the wrinkles and the way the top couple buttons sagged slightly.

“So you’re the Kurusu kid, huh?” Dojima said, voice gruff and intimidating, though likely more out of fatigue than malice or annoyance.

“Yes, sir,” Akira said.

“Your folks told us you’d be getting back today. I just wanted to make sure you were the right kid before we ended up handing out the key to some stranger,” he explained, holding out a brand new key to Akira. “Here you go.”

“Thank you. Sorry to bother you,” Akira said, taking it and slipping it in his pocket.

“It’s no bother. I just got back from the station, anyway,” he said, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Get home safely.”

“I will. Have a good evening.”

“You too. And—” Dojima said, interrupting himself for a moment to bite his tongue. “Welcome back.”

“Pardon?”

“You were in Tokyo for a year, right?” Dojima said. “Y’know, welcome back and all that.”

“Ah. Yeah, thanks,” Akira said.

Akira waited for a beat to see if Dojima was going to say anything else before he heard another voice from inside calling out.

“Uncle, your dinner’s getting cold!” the voice said.

It wasn’t the girl Akira had spoken to. Of that much, he was for sure.

“Ah, that’s my cue to let ya go,” Dojima said. “Take care, kid.”

Akira nodded and turned away as Dojima closed the door behind him.

“Well that was nice of him to welcome you back,” Morgana said.

Akira hummed in agreement. Although he was still trying to figure out where he recognized Dojima from, he was getting pretty tired from traveling and having to walk around the neighborhood, so he decided to conclude that train of thought for now.

“Well, we’ve got the key. Now we can get inside,” Morgana said with a yawn. “I’m about ready to fall asleep inside your bag, to be honest.”

“Says the one who slept the entire train ride here,” Akira replied.

“With a face as handsome as this, I gotta get my beauty sleep when I can!”

Using the new key, Akira unlocked the door and stepped inside. It was pitch black. No matter. This wasn't the first time he'd come back to an empty house and it probably wouldn't be the last. He flicked the deadbolt locked.

Akira kicked off his shoes and made his way towards the stairs, removing his bag from his shoulder and holding it in front of him to make it up the narrow steps. Padding up the steps in his socks, he noticed each step creak in a familiar way. The soundtrack to climbing these steps was familiar, but different to how Leblanc’s stairs sounded. He was almost expecting it to be the same, but it just wasn’t. Without the smell of curry and coffee, it just didn’t feel like home.

Hell, even before staying at Leblanc, it never felt like home.

Reaching the top step and walking down the hallway, he opened his bedroom door and clicked the light on.

It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the light, but when it did, his heart sank into his feet. It was official, he was back here. The sparse walls and old furniture of his room felt like it was actively sapping his energy from him, dulling his senses and removing all semblance of feeling.

He placed his bag on the table, joining a mechanical pencil and empty glass that had been left undisturbed for the last year coated in a fine layer of dust. The room was completely undisturbed from when he left over a year ago. Not like there was much to disturb. A bed, a desk, a dresser, and a table. The bookshelf in the corner had a few things on it, but nothing he had even thought about since before he left.

Even he had to admit it. It was pretty depressing.

“Hm. Not as roomy as the attic,” —Morgana freed himself from the confines of Akira’s bag and sat down on the table— “but I suppose it’s nice to have a door.”

Akira grunted in agreement as he took off his blazer and laid it down over the back of the chair at his desk.

“Where are your parents?” Morgana asked. “I figured they’d wanna see their kid back after a year of being gone.”

Akira shrugged as he emptied his pockets onto the table and placed his glasses beside his bag.

“They didn’t tell you where they would be the night you got back?” Morgana asked. “That sucks.”

“I suppose,” Akira replied.

Kinda nice to not have to deal with them right as I get back, though.

Akira flicked off the lights and padded over to his bed and, even though he was still dressed from his journey, collapsed on top of it.

“You’re pretty tired from your trip, huh?” Morgana said. “I don’t blame you.”

He jumped from the table to Akira’s bed.

“Night, Akira. See you tomorrow,” Morgana said, curling up at the foot of Akira’s bed.

Akira didn’t reply.

Akira sat at the kitchen table, watching quietly as Morgana paced across the table back and forth in front of him.

“I don’t believe this! They’re not even here?” Morgana grumbled.

Akira lifted the note on the table, reading: “Away on business. Stay out of trouble this time.”

“I can read!” Morgana exclaimed. “Still, that’s such crap!”

Akira shrugged, taking a sip of coffee as he did.

“At least my stuff showed up,” Akira pointed out. A little obvious, given that it was hard not to notice the massive box dragged into the middle of the kitchen.

“Yeah, but—” Morgana started.

“It’s fine, Morgana,” Akira interrupted. “I’m not worried. They’ll be back eventually.”

Although the longer they stay out of town, the better.

Akira crumpled the note up with one hand and dropped it back on the table.

Morgana glanced between the crumpled up piece of paper and Akira before shaking his head.

“So, what’s the plan until school starts?” Morgana asked.

“Probably take it easy for a while and get used to how quiet this town is,” Akira replied.

“You know, now that you say that, I just noticed how quiet it is too. There’s no sounds of traffic or anything,” Morgana said. His ears perked up as he paused to listen. “It’s kind of nice, I guess. It helps that we’re not not living next to an overpass.”

Although part of me kind of misses that.

Akira’s phone chirped on the table. He picked up the phone and checked his notifications as Morgana continued to pace back and forth in front of him.

Phantom Thieves No More
Ryuji: yo @akira!
Ryuji: you get back alright?
Akira: Yep.
Ryuji: awesome man!
Ann: we’re gonna miss you! :(
Sumire: Don’t forget about us over there, okay?

“I’m gonna miss those guys,” Morgana mused. He didn’t even need to see Akira’s phone to know who he was talking to. Akira’s warm smile as he pulled up his phone was enough.

The fact that Morgana was half a second away from batting the ball of paper off the table didn’t escape his notice, but he decided not to comment on that.

“Having second thoughts about coming with me?” Akira replied.

“What? Never. I meant what I said when I said we were partners. We’ve gotta stick together!” Morgana said, puffing out his chest. “Besides, someone’s gotta be around to keep you in line. Make sure you’re going to bed at a decent time and all that.”

“I was just kidding,” Akira said flatly.

Give it a month and you'll probably change your tune. It's pretty boring here.

Phantom Thieves No More
Akira: Miss you guys already.
Haru: <3
Haru: Be well!
Akira: No promises.
Ann: i dont think she was asking
Futaba: yeah i think that was a threat
Futaba: haru be like “be well! (or else)”
Haru: :)
Ryuji: god thats scary
Futaba: :)
Ryuji: pls stop
Ann: :)
Ryuji: :(

Two weeks passed in a blur as Akira watched his life pass him by. Sure, this time last year he was being chewed up and spat out by the Japanese legal system, but at least something was happening. Morgana did his best to motivate Akira to get his sleep schedule in order, but there was little to be done. Hours after Morgana fell asleep, Akira would lie awake and stare at his ceiling. Boredom was one thing, but it had been a long while since Akira had had serious trouble sleeping.

Akira couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why he was feeling so on edge.

He could speculate, at least.

Was it the solitude? The boredom? Or maybe it was the fear of the day his parents would eventually return. Like the rising of a rollercoaster, he was waiting for that sudden jolt of fear, for that other shoe to drop. But they hadn’t yet, and that feeling only got worse.

His parents were no stranger to disappearing for extended periods of time. Usually a week here and there. In the past, Akira’s mother would let him know when they would be returning home, but his phone remained quiet on that front. Not surprising in the least, but the chirping of his notification alert still caused him to jump every time. Putting his phone vibrate wouldn’t solve the issue, but at least it was easier to ignore until he could muster up the courage to check his notifications.

The box of his things from Tokyo sat on the floor by the kitchen for an entire week before Akira brought it upon himself to move it upstairs. It wasn’t much. Just clothes and a few of the remaining necessities left over from Tokyo. He did leave with more than he came with, however. Winter clothing, some coffee making equipment, and a few bags of beans (courtesy of Sojiro, of course). He had also been helping himself to the stash of instant ramen and yakisoba, no doubt shoved in there by Futaba.

“Why did you leave so much of your stuff back in Tokyo?” Morgana asked.

“Didn’t want to risk breaking any of it. Besides, it just looked right in Leblanc’s attic.” Akira answered.

“Yeah, but still…this room is pretty barren.”

It really was a little depressing how sparse his room was. There were no posters hanging on the walls, no pictures, and very little decor aside from an outdated calendar that Akira was intending to take down. Really.

Akira had to admit that Morgana was right. The room did feel incredibly dull. There was no personality, no life, barely even a sign that anyone was using it save for the wrinkled bed sheets.

“What time is it?” Akira said, tossing the pen he was spinning onto the desk.

“Uhhh, your phone says it's a little after two.” Morgana said, tapping a paw on Akira’s phone, plugged in by his bed.

“Alright, I think I’d better get going.” Akira said. He got up from his creaky chair and unplugged his phone. He shoved it, his keys, and his wallet into his pockets.

“Ah, you need to go pick up your uniform at school, right?” Morgana asked, moving towards Akira’s bag.

“I think I’ll go by myself, Morgana. It’ll be a quick trip, anyhow,” Akira said.

“Aww, but I’m boooored!” Morgana whined.

Called it.

“Sorry. I’ll get some food on the way back, how about that?” Akira said.

“Oh! Well, then. I suppose it’s alright if you’re out of the house unsupervised,” Morgana replied.

Predictable as always.

“I’ll do what I can.”

It wasn’t the longest walk to school. Akira supposed that it was lucky that he lived so close. A twenty minute walk was hardly much of a workout. Akira stopped at the gates to Yasogami High School. A familiar sight, but it still felt like an entire lifetime had passed since he was last here.

I wonder why they want to issue me an entirely new uniform. I still have the old one. Maybe since I was expelled and then un-expelled, I’m in the system as a brand new student? Well, I suppose if I’m doing the “new student” thing, I may as well do it right. At least I don’t have to go and buy it myself like I did with my Shujin uniform.

Yasogami High School was the only public high school in the area. The others were private, and too expensive to boot. Akira wondered how his perspective on Yasogami would be now that he’d had a taste of private school life at Shujin. He thought he remembered having a decent time, but everything from before his arrest was a blur. It was the dictionary definition of “fine” as far as he could remember. It was just school.

Akira made his way towards the faculty office, passing by the odd teacher here and there, still setting up their classrooms and putting up class assignments on the boards not even batting an eye at him. Some of the teachers he passed in the halls looked familiar, at least. Some didn’t, though.

Akira opened the faculty office door and stepped inside. He wasn’t entirely sure who he was supposed to be looking for, but if he asked around enough, he would probably—

“Ah, Kurusu-kun. Over here!” a voice from behind a pile of papers said. The waving hand above them being the only sign of life in this place.

He followed it to see a bespectacled man with silver hair, shoving aside some folders, seemingly looking for one in particular. He looked a lot younger than the teachers outside. As unsure about those teachers as he had been, he was positive he’d never seen this teacher before in his life.

“I’ve got your file right here. I just want to make sure I’ve got everything in order.” he said, flipping open folders and tossing them aside when it didn’t turn out to be the right one.

“Akira Kurusu. It’s nice to meet you…” Akira said, trailing off.

“Yu Narukami,” he said, nodding at Akira before turning his attention back to sifting through the contents of his desk. “Ah, here it is.”

He flipped open a folder and leafed through the papers contained within.

“I think your folks already took care of everything beforehand, so I just need to take a picture for your ID and give you your uniform.”

Well, that makes it easy.

“Now, let me see… Ah, right. You’re in class 3-2. That’s my class.” Narukami said, flashing Akira a smile. “Let’s go take your picture.”

Narukami stood up from his chair (almost knocking over the monstrous pile of files and folders teetering by the edge of his desk) and led Akira over to a wall with a projection screen that had already been pulled down as an impromptu backdrop.

“Shouldn’t I be in uniform before you take my picture?”

Narukami was stunned by Akira’s comment.

“Oh. Yeah, you’re probably right,” —Narukami smacked himself in the forehead— “you’ll have to forgive me. This is my first year as a teacher.” he said. He walked over to one of the desks, stacked high with brand new uniforms wrapped in plastic. Grabbing one, he handed it to Akira. “Here you go, I think this one is your size.”

Akira unwrapped the outfit and slipped the blazer on. Akira couldn’t help but feel like he preferred the Shujin uniform, but there wasn’t really any room to argue. It was just a uniform. He was already wearing a plain white dress shirt, so he didn’t have to change.

As he thought about it, he realized he was probably going to need to request a new uniform even if they didn’t give him one. It took some rooting through his closet before he found this particular white shirt. All the others were comically small on him at this point or short sleeved.

“That’s better. Now, stand up against the screen… Alright, take a step forward… Okay, hold it right there,” Narukami said, pulling out his phone. “3, 2, 1, and— there we go. I’ll have your ID printed today and give it to you tomorrow in class.”

“Thanks. Is that all?” Akira asked.

“I…think so? I’ll let you know if I forgot anything tomorrow.” he said, putting his phone in his pocket after, assumedly, sending it off to the person handling the ID printing. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kurusu-kun. Welcome to Yasogami High!”

Akira bit his tongue. He wanted to correct him. That he had been here before and just transferred back, but he didn’t really have the energy to explain the whole situation. Not right now, anyway. Besides, the staff probably all knew about it. Narukami was only out of the loop because this was his first year at the school.

“I’ll let you get outta here. See you tomorrow!” Narukami said.

Akira nodded at him and turned to leave the school. He was going to spend every day here for the next year, no sense in sticking around when it wasn’t required of him yet.

He considered taking the blazer off, but decided to leave it on. He didn't feel like carrying it around town until he got back or cramming it into his bag. He slipped the shirt and pants into his bag, though, doing his best to make sure they laid flat enough to not get too wrinkled. Akira started walking back to his parent’s house before he remembered that he promised dinner for Morgana, and cut through the shopping district on the way to the local supermarket. Morgana had come with him all the way to the middle of nowhere, so he deserved credit for that. This credit would be in the form of supermarket sushi.

Walking through the shopping district still gave Akira that feeling of unease he noticed when he first arrived. Despite it being in the middle of the day, there still weren’t a lot of people outside. He spotted a woman with short black hair in professional-looking clothing standing next to the blacksmith’s shop, talking to…

Nah, there’s no way.

Akira stopped to take off his glasses and wipe them on his shirt. Maybe he was just seeing things. That was it.

When he placed his glasses back on his face and looked back up, both women were looking at him.

The professional looking lady was looking between both Akira and the woman standing there. She had wavy platinum blond hair that seemed to glow, even during an overcast day. That combined with her velvet blue clothing wasn’t exactly filling Akira with confidence that all was well in this town.

The Velvet Room doesn’t have a copyright on that shade of blue, so maybe it’s just a coincidence… That's not Lavenza, though.

As Akira looked on, the blonde raised her hand and gave Akira a little wave.

Akira cautiously waved back and decided that he was probably just going crazy and missed a person that was standing not even two meters away.

“Um, hi?” the professional-looking woman said. “Do you need something?”

Oh, right. Akira was staring.

“N-No, nothing. Just thought I recognized who you were talking to,” Akira said.

“Her?” she gestured to the blonde.

“Uh, yeah?”

“You thought you recognized—”

“My sister spoke highly of you,” the blonde finally said.

Akira bit his tongue.

“Uh,” Akira replied dumbly.

Okay, definitely not a coincidence.

“So, uh, I gotta get to the station. See ya, Margaret!” the professional-looking woman said, making her escape as she quickly walked down the road.

Margaret, huh?

“Hello, Trickster,” Margaret said.

“Should I be worried?” Akira asked.

“Worried? Whatever about?” she replied. “The services of the Velvet Room are not available to you at this time, if that’s what you were wondering.”

Not quite, but that does answer my question. In a roundabout way. Although it feels like that’s the only way I get answers from the Velvet Room about anything.

“So I don’t need to worry about any other gods that want to destroy or take over the world or anything?” Akira asked.

“Not at this time, no,” Margaret replied.

That reply doesn’t fill me with confidence, but I’ll take it.

“So you’re just…around?” Akira asked. “You’re not going to get in trouble with Igor for stepping out of the Velvet Room for a while, are you?”

Margaret smiled to herself.

“So concerned with the wellbeing of someone you just met, are you?” Margaret said with a teasing lilt. “Do not concern yourself with mine more than your own, young man.”

I think she just told me to mind my own business.

“Right, well,” Akira started. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yes, I will see you around,” Margaret replied.

I hope she doesn’t mean that she’ll literally be following me around or something.

“Tell Lavenza I said ‘hi’?” Akira said.

“I will do my best to pass along your greeting,” Margaret said as she turned around.

She reached down, grabbed something invisible, turned it, pushed, and stepped out of view.

Akira stared dumbly at the space that Margaret originally occupied, mouth hanging open slightly. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to focus on the door to the Velvet Room that Margaret used. If he really focused, he could faintly make out the outline of an ornate door with a golden butterfly design, but even with his special sight given to him by the Velvet Room, it never fully came into focus.

It was then that he realized that to anyone else watching him, he was staring, squinting, and attempting to focus on a plain wall.

He decided to get going before someone thought he was on drugs and called the police.

No, officer, I was really trying to focus on seeing an invisible door. Honestly.

Trying to make sense of what just happened, he continued his journey to the supermarket, hoping to get dinner and go back to his parent’s house before Morgana got worried about him.

Maybe I’ll just keep this little interaction to myself.

Akira hadn’t been by Junes too many times. His dad was the one that did most of the shopping for the house, but Akira had been sent off to grab one thing or another a handful of times in the past. At the time, it was a welcome distraction to be allowed to leave the house unsupervised for a short period of time and get some exercise. Now it was just one more task standing in the way of being able to home and do… Well, Akira hadn’t thought that far ahead. Maybe he would go back to staring at the ceiling or something.

There’s a bookstore in the shopping district. I could always pick up some new books. Maybe even a study guide.

Akira stepped through the automatic sliding doors at Junes, feeling a wave of cool air wash over him. It wasn’t even summer yet, but he knew he was going to be thankful for the air conditioning soon.

Maybe I should look for an AC unit while I’m here…nah, I’m sure there will be sales when it gets closer to summer. Or I could just camp out in the living room. If my parents are going to be gone, I shouldn’t have to worry about needing to avoid them in the evenings.

He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the produce floor. He couldn’t remember where the fresh sushi was, but that was about as good a place as any to check first. When he emerged on the right floor, he started to wander around. The longer he wandered, the more confused he got. In hindsight, perhaps it was a fool’s errand to expect a supermarket of this size to be easy to navigate.

Maybe it’s not on this floor. I guess I should go ask someone…

Akira glanced around. He spotted someone immediately, moving cabbages around and replenishing the display from a box sitting on a metal cart. He hummed to the music playing from the headphones around his neck.

“Excuse me,” Akira said, closing the distance between himself and the aproned man.

“Hm? Oh, how can I help you?” the man said.

“I was wondering if you could tell me where the sushi is?”

“Ooh, you’re pretty close. Lemme show you,” the employee said, motioning for Akira to follow him.

He had walked past it a few times. Oops.

“Here we are. I put these all out half an hour ago, so they’re still fresh,” he said, tapping away at the point of sale right next to the freshly organized cooler. “Say, you’re a student, right?”

Akira nodded as he picked up a plastic container of tuna.

“Since school is starting up soon, we’ve got a buy-one-get-one deal for all students if you present your school ID at checkout.”

“I won't get my ID until tomorrow,” Akira said.

“Ah. Well…hmm…” the employee said, trailing off in thought. “I can just waive the ID requirement for today.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to get you into trouble or anything,” Akira replied.

“Yeah, no sweat. I’ve been a broke student before. Went to Yaso High myself, actually,” he said, scanning in the items and discounting them both by half to make the cost of one. “Don’t worry, I won’t get in trouble or anything. I’m the assistant manager so I can probably get away with it. Probably…”

“As long as you don’t think you’ll get in hot water for it,” Akira said. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no sweat. This one is my current favorite, if you’re not sure which one to get,” the assistant manager said, pointing at a Spam roll. “It’s an American style one we’re doing in collaboration with a Hawaiian chain of stores.”

Akira decided to go with that one. He didn’t want to hold up the assistant manager of all people longer than he had to with his analysis paralysis. He quickly paid for them by holding his phone near the card reader.

“Alright, you’re all set. Come again!” he said, giving a quick polite bow as he handed over Akira’s items in a plastic bag. “We’re running all kinds of deals for students all the time, including the stands upstairs. Just uh, make sure you have your student ID on you next time.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Have a good one,” Akira said, turning with a wave.

Okay, that was surprisingly normal.

“I’m back,” Akira called out into the mostly empty house. An unfamiliar gesture at this point. Although if Morgana was here, he would probably appreciate the heads up.

“Welcome home, big bro!” Morgana called from the bottom of the stairs. His nose immediately scrunched up as the words exited his mouth. “Ew, I don’t think I like that. That felt gross.”

“Yeah, let’s uh… never say that again. Anyway, I brought you sushi, as promised.” Akira said, walking past Morgana up the stairs to his (their?) room.

“Sushiiii!” Morgana called, following Akira upstairs, hopping up on his bed as Akira took a seat. “Nice uniform, by the way. Pretty spiffy.”

“Eh, it’s alright. I miss the plaid from the Shujin uniform, if I’m being honest. Houndstooth is a fine pattern, though,” Akira said, tossing the pants and dress shirt still in the plastic bag onto the table beside his bed. He opened both containers and placed them on the table.

Oh, right. I should text Sojiro and Futaba and thank them for the coffee and ramen.

Leblanc Chat
Attic Boy: Thanks for the coffee, Sojiro.
Attic Boy: And thank you for the ramen and yakisoba, Futaba.
Gremlin: you’re welcome!
Gremlin: it hardly put a dent in my stash anyway
Gremlin: i just dunno if you can get those ones in your town
Attic Boy: I could probably get them online.
Gremlin: oooh yeah good point
Gremlin: i’ll send you some links later
Big Boss: No problem. I don’t want you getting rusty over there, so you’d better keep practicing.
Big Boss: When you come back, I’ll be putting you back to work.
Big Boss: Huh. I guess Futaba will need to change your name from ‘Attic Boy’ since you’re no longer in the attic anymore.
Gremlin: he is still attic boy in our hearts
Attic Boy: Thanks, I think.

Futaba Sakura
Futaba: he may not seem like he does but he misses you
Futaba: the day after you left, i caught him just standing in the attic just looking around
Futaba: he even yelled up the stairs that he was leaving the other night
Akira: I know he has an image to maintain, so I won’t tell him you told me that.
Akira: For now.
Futaba: hey!
Akira: Although it’s only fair. He lost his best part-timer and now he’s stuck with you.
Futaba: dang you right
Futaba: guess i’d better get to practicing
Futaba: real talk tho, he doesn’t just miss you cuz you helped around the shop
Akira: Sure.
Futaba: we’re a family, kira
Futaba: it's understandable that he would be upset when his son leaves
Futaba: and im bummed that my brother left

Akira read the last two messages from Futaba over a couple times. The tightness in his chest didn’t go away no matter how many times his eyes scanned over the words.

So much for not missing Tokyo too soon after getting back.

Akira shook his head and typed out a quick reply, placed his phone face-down on his bed, and returned to eating his food.

“Who was that?” Morgana asked, taking a break from demolishing his fatty tuna.

“Futaba and Sojiro. Just thanking them for the coffee beans and instant ramen.”

“That was nice of them, wasn’t it?” Morgana pondered aloud for a second before returning to devour his sushi.

“Yeah, it was.” Akira replied. The rest of the meal was spent in silence. A quiet buzz from Akira’s phone told him that the message had been received, but it wasn’t enough to relieve the ache in his chest.

Futaba Sakura
Akira: Take good care of him while I’m gone.
Futaba: of course!
Futaba: you can count on futaba!