#hhhh well i brought this upon myself so. SHRUG

[glassworkspiderlilies]

one step forward, one step back

 Persona 5 | Goro Akechi, Haru Okumura | AO3 Summary: Haru helps Goro through a moment of darkness. It works for the moment, anyway. Notes: Prompt for this one was “hug”! Relevant Mementos dialogue here.

The moment he steps into Leblanc, the downpour starts.

He closes the door quickly, looking back for a moment to observe the sheer force of rain. The clouds had been threatening to break all day—it was lucky that he made it to his destination without being caught within the storm.

“You cut it close, eh?” Sojiro says from behind the counter, a wry smile on his face. “Guess I have two customers for the next couple hours, then.”

As Goro walks to his usual spot, he nods his greeting to the other person sitting at the counter a seat away.

“Hello, Okumura-san,” he says with a smile, which she returns.

“Hello, Akechi-kun,” she replies, “Lucky break out there, huh?”

“Indeed,” he agrees, then notices the little pink box sitting in front of her. “A gift?”

“Of sorts. For everyone, though, not for me,” Haru says sheepishly, opening it and showing him its contents. Inside are cookies shaped like flowers, some of them beautifully decorated with icing. “I was experimenting, and thought I’d bring them for everyone to share, but…”

She looks outside, at the thick sheet of rain obscuring the view.

“It’s probably safer to stay at home today, huh?” Goro finishes her thought for her.

Haru nods.

“Akira-kun and Mona-chan went out to buy some books earlier. Futaba-chan was really excited when I said I brought cookies, but even though she’s just down the street it would probably be better to wait until the rain lets up at least a little bit, if she’s that determined to come by.”

“If she tried right now she’d probably get pummeled and swept away by all that water,” Sojiro chuckles, but then frowns a little as he also gazes outside. “Sheesh, it’s really coming down…business will be slow today. Anyway, coffee for the two of you? And Haru-chan, set aside two of the chocolate and almond ones for me, will you?”

The two confirm their coffee orders, and Haru reaches into the box to pull out the requested cookies and sets them on a napkin. She slides the box towards Goro afterwards with a smile.

“If they’re to your taste, please have some,” she says shyly, “I made a few different kinds and would love feedback, if you’re willing.”

Goro smiles and selects the topmost cookie in the box, which happens to be one beautifully iced with small floral details and lacework. He examines it before looking back at Haru.

“These are…exquisite,” he says, “I’d rather admire it than eat it, to be honest.”

Haru laughs. “The experimenting also included working with royal icing. It’s quite fun, and therapeutic. Well, if the designs aren’t too complex.” She smiles and looks sheepish again. “I confess that is one of the few presentable ones.”

Goro raises the cookie in a bit of a salute before he takes a bite. It’s pleasantly chewy, and not overly sweet despite the icing. There’s another flavor he can’t quite name—some type of spice, surely—but it’s a nice touch.

“It’s delicious,” he says, after he’s finished chewing and notices Haru’s expectant look.

She smiles, but before she can say anything, Sojiro places their coffees in front of them.

“Should be expected,” Sojiro says, pouring a cup of coffee for himself. “Haru-chan’s gotten pretty good at making coffee and pastries.”

“Oh, no, but I’m nowhere near as good as you or Akira-kun,” she protests, though she flushes a little at the compliment.

Sojiro smiles wryly as he lifts his cup.

“I should hope not, you might run us out of business,” he says, chuckling, but then studies her with a thoughtful expression. He takes a sip of coffee before continuing. “You  know, you don’t have to have the same flavor we do, Haru-chan. You have your own touch, and it’s a good one.”

She ponders his words for a moment before tilting her head.

“I’ll…take some time to think about that a bit more,” she says solemnly, and Sojiro chuckles again.

“Alright, then. I’m gonna do some dishes and prep work in the back; you two enjoy yourselves. Give me a holler if you want more coffee.”

With that, Sojiro plucks the cookies Haru set aside for off the counter and brings them with him into the kitchen.

Haru and Goro glance at each other and smile politely. It’s a little awkward—they don’t talk to each other very often, as they don’t seem to have very much in common or any similar interests to bond over more extensively. But they mutually acknowledge that they aren’t going to force a conversation at the moment; Goro turns his attention to the TV, while Haru reaches into her bag resting on the seat and brings out a notebook, textbook, and pencilcase.

They pass about thirty-five minutes in relative silence, save for the background noise. After a while, Goro glances over at what Haru is doing. She seems focused on taking notes, the occasional small diagram littering the page amongst bullet-points of information. She writes quickly and in very small letters—he can’t see what she’s writing, but she also seems to have an eye for leaving white space amongst the page so that they are less overwhelming to look at later.

He smiles a little; it’s method and style that looks terribly picturesque—one that he isn’t used to seeing, though it’s not as though he’s seen several peoples’ notes before.

He has seen Sae-san’s notes, primarily preliminary notes on cases that she prefers to handwrite because it allows her to visualize things better before she types up a final version on the computer. The pages are crammed full of writing, extra things scribbled in the corners in addition to the text on the lines. The majority of the notes are impeccably neat, though the quality starts slipping a little once Sae-san has been working for extended periods of time. Makoto’s is similar—he’s seen her school notes before, when he’s stopped by the Niijimas’ apartment briefly— though her handwriting is a little more fluid, with a little more bend and looping to her letters.

Goro’s own notes are almost unreadable to anyone else—his handwriting looks neat outwardly, but people have trouble actually reading what he’s written. At present, Sae-san is about the only one who can read his handwriting without trouble. But there’s also the fact that he doesn’t organize things particularly well—he knows his own files and papers, knows what his own notes refer to, even though things written on the same sheet might not correspond to one another. Someone else might find it quite a puzzle to piece the information together, were they to take his notes.

That suits Goro just fine.

He hasn’t noticed he’s staring until Haru lets out a little sigh—not one of frustration, but simply tiredness—before she puts her pen down and traces the rim of her coffee cup with her finger.

“It’s good to take a break every now and then, you know,” Goro comments mildly, feeling compelled to say something. His words are hypocritical, he runs himself to the ground as a lifestyle, but she doesn’t know that.

She turns to give him a half-smile, though it comes out more as a wince.

“It is,” Haru agrees, “But there’s so much I need to learn in as short of a time as possible…”

She trails off, but she doesn’t need to explain much more. The general populace knows the gist of her state right now—with her father dead and her being the largest shareholder of the company, Okumura Foods was facing internal strife in terms of people battling for control of Haru’s power, or attempting to make her give it up.

“That sounds…difficult,” Goro says, knowing it is an understatement.

Haru looks at him, silent for a moment, as if measuring him. He blinks, briefly taken aback by her sudden scrutiny, before Haru glances away. She rests her hands on her lap, lacing her fingers together.

“It is,” she admits, sounding pained. “Akechi-kun, how long have you been working as a detective?”

Goro pauses before answering, thinking back to when he could claim he officially became a detective.

“I’d say about two years or so?”

“I see. I am sure that you went through your own difficulties during that time, so please forgive me for saying this—but there is a part of me that is…a little envious of  you.”

Goro raises an eyebrow, curious at what she means, and Haru finally meets his eyes.

“You’ve been at your craft for awhile,” she states, “Detective work is about solving cases, yes, but there are other processes involved in that, with the police and recordkeeping and interviewing. It’s more laborious than people know based merely off of watching your interviews, or crime dramas, or suchlike . But during those two years, I’m sure that you grew as a detective and became more comfortable in the role, perhaps learned knew skills to aid you in your work, and you certainly must have honed existing ones. The longer you work at something the better you become, after all.”

She pauses, gritting her teeth for a moment before continuing.

“I did not have that. All those times I was at my father’s side…and I have nothing to show for it. It is true that some of it could be blamed on my father—after all, I was not allowed to attend meetings of worth or do anything directly in relation to the company. Most of the time, I was for image—to talk to his guests, build connections…to be a bridal candidate for sons of his business partners.”

She sounds a little bitter at the last part, but she sighs and shakes her head.

“But I also could have insisted more—either in learning what he did, or asking him to spend less time at work—had I been less eager to please. I…might have been searching for his approval—maintaining my grades, being charming to his guests…accepting Sugimura-san as my betrothed without complaining. But in doing so, I may have only pushed him further into what he became.”

Haru’s eyes are distant and pained, and suddenly, Goro’s throat is dry, his throat tight. Her story is familiar, too familiar, and he balls his hands into fists to hide the fact that they’re trembling.

(Mothers who aren’t his Mother, fathers who aren’t his Father—what do those words mean, anyway?—eyes, cold and judging, constant and circulating…no one could say he wasn’t smart, not with how quickly he learned to devote himself to an image of himself he created, but intelligence didn’t help cuts or bruises…

Learning to breathe quietly, a fear of dark spaces—yet a comfort in them, which act was better? Which would have made them happier? Had it become like this because he was wrong, because he did it all wrong, could he start over—)

“Akechi-kun!”

Haru’s voice is sharp—not panicked, but geared specifically to get his attention—and snaps him out of the past immediately, but while his mind knows where he is now, his body doesn’t seem to be cooperating.

“I’m sorry?” Goro says, intending for it to be a polite apology for zoning out, but something about the tone must be wrong because Haru’s eyes are even more worried after he speaks. He tries to repeat himself, licking his lips in case their dryness is the reason why his voice isn’t coming out. He fails again, once more, twice more, and he stares at his hands so that he doesn’t have to meet Haru’s gaze.

It takes him a moment to realize that he’s shaking, not just his hands, but his entire body is trembling violently. Stop, he tries to command himself, it’s a sign of weakness, and he knows where weakness gets you—

“Akechi-kun,” Haru says, softer this time, as she slowly slides off of her seat. She takes cautious steps towards him, though he’s closed his eyes and can’t see her anyway.

“Please,” Goro croaks. He can’t bear this public humiliation, even if it’s only the Okumura heir, but suddenly he is unsure of what his own plea means, what it’s for. His breath is coming too fast, or too slow, he can’t tell, only that he needs to stop, before—

“Akechi-kun, will you let me touch you?” Haru asks carefully. Startled, Goro raises his head. She’s standing in front of him now, brown eyes grave, but even with her usual smile gone her manner exudes comfort. It takes him a moment to register what she’s asking. He wants to say no, wants to ask why she would ask such a thing when she barely even knows him. He wants to tell her not to look at him, to leave him be—

“Yes,” he whispers instead, and Haru takes his hands in hers.

The contact is warm, even through his gloves, but she carefully tugs them off and entwines her fingers with his, grip firm. The warmth is almost shocking, but he tightens his own grip as if he can absorb more of her heat that way.

“I was taught a magic chant for ramen the other day,” Haru says quietly. “It went something like…veggie-garlic-extra-extra…”

She says it very slowly, and repeats it once more before Goro catches onto the pattern. He breathes, in and out, in and out, following the rhythm of her words. She says the silly chant until his breathing becomes a little more even, though he’s still shaking. He lets go of her hands soon after, and attempts to straighten his posture.

“I’m sorry,” he says, clearly this time, “I don’t know what came over me.”

Lies, he knows exactly what happened, though he’d never been in someone else’s presence before when it’d happened. Haru tilts her head, her body language inquisitive, but her eyes aware. Goro’s lips tighten, though he knows he must not make a very convincing figure right now at all.

“Akechi-kun, will you let me do one more thing?” Haru asks, and holds out her arms.

Goro looks confused, and mimics her stance, unsure of what it means.

“I…suppose?” he answers, when she doesn’t move without a response.

Oh, he thinks, when she moves in and wraps her arms around him firmly, chin resting on his shoulder. He hesitates before doing the same, hands hovering over her back for a moment until he finally rests them on her gently, completely out of his element.

“I’m trying to grow camellias this year,” she tells him, “I did a lot of research on what kind of soil they prefer, and I  found that they do best in more acidic soil rich with organic matter. I’ve plenty of compost to help with that, and I could obtain extra fertilizer if necessary as well…”

She continues talking and he relaxes in her hold, all but burying his face in her hair. She smells like jasmine, her sweater and her hair both soft against his cheek. He is half-paying attention to the details of what she’s saying, but he knows she’s only chattering for his sake. He’s stopped trembling, and ultimately feels like he’s returned to a normal—or at least manageable—state after a while. But he gives in to himself and stays in Haru’s embrace just a little bit longer before pulling away.

Haru observes him, and he gives her a weak smile.

“Thank you,” he says, even though saying so means fully acknowledging what just happened. He can’t meet her eyes. “I…”

He wants to make excuses again, but before he can begin doing so, Haru slides a finger under his chin and tilts his head up gently.

“Akechi-kun,” she says, smiling softly, the corners of her eyes turning upwards. “I am your friend, and you may ask me for anything you need.”

He clenches his teeth, unable to find the words to express what he’s feeling. Haru releases him, though she doesn’t go back to her seat yet.

“Would you like another cup of coffee? I was going to ask Boss for another one, myself,” she says, and Goro merely nods, though caffeine might not be the best at the moment.

Haru calls for Sojiro, and when he steps out from the kitchen he doesn’t act like he’s aware anything happened since he left the counter, though Goro knows that he must. The café isn’t that big.

He’s thankful for the owner’s silence.

Goro drinks his second cup of coffee a little too quickly, though he appreciates the scalding heat sliding down his throat and into the pit of his stomach. He takes his leave soon after that, claiming that he has work that he should get back to now that the rain has let up, and Haru and Sojiro give him friendly goodbyes.

Just before he closes the door, her glances at Haru, who meets his gaze evenly. She gives him a hint of a smile and inclines her head, and Goro clicks the door shut.

When he gets back to his apartment, he doesn’t bother turning on the lights as he strips out of his outside clothing and into more comfortable attire and throws himself onto the bed. He pulls his blanket over his hand and curls up in the darkness, thoughts swirling, Haru’s words echoing in his head.

I am your friend, and you may ask me for anything you need.

If only she knew. She wouldn’t have said such a thing if she knew who he really was, what he’s done.

He curls tighter once he realizes a tear is sliding down his cheek, burying his face into the pillow. No more weakness, he vows, or tries to. He recalls Haru’s warm hands, how he showed a raw part of himself that she accepted without judgment, the easy comfort that she provided him with no strings attached.

A tiny hidden part of him feels relieved, that perhaps showing weakness isn’t so bad—

No, the greater part of himself says, with gritted teeth and nails digging crescents into his palms. Considering that is already a step towards disaster. If he becomes comfortable with help, then that will lead to seeking it, and it will only bring ruin. Really, he’s already halfway there, with being in this position at all.

He needs to remember what he’s here for and fix the grave mistake that he’s made by shutting that tiny voice up.  

Some sleeping pills and a while later, he falls into a fitful sleep, remembering the scent of jasmine, dreaming briefly of flowers.