#ppl everywhere all over the world should just go outside and sit down and refuse to contribute to capitalism and the

[bunnihearted]

the earth is getting hotter and hotter and nobody's doing anything about it but im misanthropic and depressive because i can see nothing that inspires hope 🤙

[akechicrimes]

Prompt 37? Futaba and Akechi platonic/Futago siblings?

37. “Follow me. It’s okay, just hold my hand.”

after akira leaves tokyo, futaba does just fine without her key item, except for when she doesnt.

(one of them AUs were goro survives the engine room and rejoins the phantom thieves. no i will not explain. persona 5 canon AND persona 5 royal do not interact. for reference in this universe futaba and akechi are half siblings but only akechi knows that)

*

“Next time you see me, I’ll be a whole new person,” Futaba tells Akira excitedly on his second-to-last day in Tokyo. “I’m going back to school, I’m out and about by myself—oh! Oh! Did I tell you I said yes to Kosei? I told Kosei I wanted to go to Shujin and they offered me scholarship! And I went to the subway station by myself yesterday!”

They’re crammed into Akira’s Leblanc attic, sitting around a cake that literally none of them were capable of baking themselves, so they’d bought the thing from a bakery and decorated it with little black and red hearts. Ryuji is passing around his gross soda, while Ann is recounting some story that doesn’t matter with incredible enthusiasm. Makoto looks like she’s determined to enjoy herself and will hear no argument.

The whole thing is incredibly morbid, if you ask Futaba. It feels less like they’re waiting for Akira to leave Tokyo and more like they’re attending Akira’s funeral. Akechi in particular looks like he’s regretting attending, which honestly tickles Futaba more than it should, that the most dishonest Phantom Thief seems to be the only one looking as honestly put-off by the entire affair as everyone else is determined not to be.

That’s everyone else’s problem. Futaba might not be happy Akira has to leave, but she’s proud. She’s sad that Akira has to leave, but also she promised Akira that by the time that he had to leave, she’d be able to get around on her own, without clinging to him for support. And she is able. She kept her promise.

Tomorrow might be the day that Akira has to go, but today is the day that Futaba is Officially Recovered.

Akira does that annoying thing he does where he puts his hand on her head and messes up all her hair, like he’s a human cat showing affection by pissing everyone off. Futaba yelps. “Look at you. You don’t need me at all.”

“I told you that I’d be ready to say goodbye by the time you had to go back to your hometown,” says Futaba. “I haven’t broken my promises yet, have I?”

There’s a burst of laughter from Haru over something Yusuke said, who looks rather surprised to discover that he said anything funny. Both Makoto and Akechi snicker at him, and then stop immediately to glare at each other the second they realize they’ve accidentally wound up sharing an opinion.

Akira ignores them. “Well, you can still text me if you need me. Or call.”

“I’m trying to tell you I’m getting better and I don’t need you,” Futaba grumbles. “Also, what kind of psychopath do you think I am to call someone on the phone?”

“That’s what phones are for.”

“Calling people is scary.”

“I thought you were getting better?” Akira teases.

“I am!” she says, pointing a finger at him. “I am! Just you watch, Akira. I’m getting better every day.”

*

Six months after joining Kosei, Futaba locks herself in her room and does not reemerge for seven days straight.

*

She tells Sojiro that she’s sick. Sojiro tells the school that Futaba told him that she’s sick. She definitely fakes a hell of a good cough, and the school lets Yusuke send her her all the homework that she was supposed to be doing in the first place, but Futaba already knows it’s only a matter of time before Sojiro rats on her, and she won’t even blame him because it’ll be for her own good.

In the meantime, she has stashes of crackers and peanut butter from back when she was a full-time hermit. She hates the taste of peanut butter within three days. Her bed is a relief, soft like a home she never left, up until it isn’t anymore. It’s too soft. No matter how she lies on it, no matter how soft it is, a mattress just isn’t comfortable when you’ve been lying on it for seventy-four hours. It’s hot. Smothering. She feels like she’s going to drown in the blankets and they’ll have to fish her moldy, sweaty corpse out of the bottomless quicksand pit of her too-soft mattress.

The thing about being a shut-in is that you don’t actually like your room very much. It’s not a relief, or an oasis, or even a place you enjoy. You’re just terrified of everywhere else more.

She plays a lot of video games that she doesn’t even like. She watches a lot of Twitch streamers she doesn’t even like. She doesn’t do her homework. She ignores Sojiro. She pretends she’s alright to everyone who texts. She wakes up and goes to sleep and thinks about going outside and goes to sleep and wakes up and wonders if the whole last year and her cautious baby steps back into the world outside was all just a hazy dream.

*

There aren’t a lot of Thieves left in Tokyo, weirdly. Haru and Makoto both graduated, off doing business and law junk that honestly makes Futaba’s brains want to crawl out her ears, but all the numbers check out and Haru’s not in the red yet, and Futaba’s looked at enough people’s dirty laundry to appreciate Haru’s clean ledger. Akira’s back in his dinky hicktown, where there’s barely anything electronic connected to Wifi worth breaking into for surveillance, which is really boring.

Ann’s been doing so many modeling gigs that she might as well not be attending Shujin anymore. She’s practically surrounded by electronics, and all of them are connected to the internet. On any given day, Futaba can snoop through the internet trail of electronic file cabinets full of images of her face, emails about her face, paychecks for her face. Futaba sends Ann more than one email about creepy old dudes making gross comments about her, along with a bunch of other illegal shit they’ve done, plus their offshore accounts full of cash if Ann wants Futaba to sic a lawyer on them.

Ann looks like she’s having fun. Ann looks different on the other side of the computer screen, like she’s less real. Like she’s not someone Futaba really knows. Like Ann’s not someone Futaba’s literally cried on at one point in her life.

Ryuji is definitely attending Shujin, but between physical therapy, catching up on a whole year of track, athletic scholarship hunting, and studying for college admissions tests, Ryuji seems to have been swallowed whole by Shujin, really. Out of boredom, one day, Futaba went down that rabbit hole of researching what it takes to get recruited for track in college, and holy shit–apparently Ryuji’s coach was supposed to be helping him with that whole process, but of course Ryuji barely has a proper coach ever since Kamoshida left Shujin’s track program in pieces. The amount of networking he’s doing is insane, especially for one teenaged boy who barely remembers his homework every night.

Sometimes, when Ryuji’s forgotten to check his email in a while and there’s a message from a coach sitting in his inbox, Futaba will send him a text to make him check it. And then it’s all, What were you doing looking at my emails, Futaba and Which of my other passwords do you know, Futaba, as if Ryuji doesn’t just use the same password over and over and has literally nobody but himself to blame.

So it’s really just Futaba, Yusuke, and–weirdly–Akechi, who’s off doing his gap year and said he was going to go abroad, but then he never did. Not to be a huge snoop, but Futaba went digging through his junk for about five seconds and then she never did it again, because she felt really weird about finding out that the guy that killed her mom is looking into social work, volunteerism, and reforming the justice system.

Like. The man who killed the Thieves’ leader is now literally out there saving orphans. It’s wild.

She might’ve been the one to tell Akechi that he can start over again and do better, but she reserves the right to at least feel weird about it.

She does not call Akira. She talks to Yusuke at school, but she refuses to ask him to accompany her on the subway. She should be recovered by now, shouldn’t she? She was supposed to have gotten over all that when Akira left Tokyo. She’s doing fine. She’s just looking out for her friends. Her, living vicariously through her friends, who’re growing up and growing away, flourishing into young adults? Never.

*

Everything is the same.

*

Didn’t she help kill a god last year?

Didn’t she work so hard to get out of her room, to make friends, to reconnect with Kana-chan?

Didn’t she work so hard to change herself?

Didn’t she help change the world?

*

Everything is the same.

*

Tuesday, 1:43 PM

YUSUKE: Futaba?

FUTABA: yo inari

FUTABA: u got more homework for me or what

YUSUKE: Ah, no.

YUSUKE: I think your teacher finds it suspicious that I’m sending you homework when I’m not in your grade, as it is.

FUTABA: oh no

FUTABA: what a shame that we didn’t have an entire year of experience with getting away with wildly illegal magic brain crimes without raising any suspicion

FUTABA: truly emailing me like four pieces of paper a day is far too difficult

YUSUKE: Well, I can’t get your homework from your teacher, but I can give you more homework if you’d like.

FUTABA: ok bucko that wasn’t a challenge

YUSUKE: There’s a math problem set that’s been incredibly dull to get through when I have more important pieces I could be working on…

FUTABA: inari im sorry to say but

FUTABA: me literally doing your homework for you is about a thousand times more illegal than you giving me my homework when ur not in my grade

YUSUKE: Oh, is it?

FUTABA: wh

FUTABA: are y

FUTABA: what do you mean OH IS IT

FUTABA: did you not KNOW ur not allowed to have other ppl do ur hw????

FUTABA: inari have u been making other people do ur hw for u so u can have more time to do art?????????

FUTABA: no shut up i dont want to know

FUTABA: i will not be ur accomplice

FUTABA: i see ur little speech bubble thingamajig yusuke i said stop typing forever and ever

YUSUKE: I can’t invite you to the art gallery tomorrow if I can’t type.

YUSUKE: It also seems impractical for you to outlaw me from texting forever.

FUTABA: i literally did not say that

YUSUKE: You said, and I quote,

YUSUKE: “Yusuke, I said stop typing forever and ever.”

FUTABA: ok i know it looks like i said that but please im begging u it’s literally just an exaggeration

YUSUKE: As Makoto would say, it’s hardly an enforceable law.

FUTABA: u literally texted my sick and crusty ass just to give me a hard time

YUSUKE: Are you about recovered from your cold?

FUTABA: and now u have the nerve to ask me to go to ur art show thing

YUSUKE: I didn’t say that.

FUTABA: oh really

FUTABA: what were u gonna ask me about then

YUSUKE: The art show, naturally.

YUSUKE: But you could have done me the courtesy of letting me ask.

FUTABA: all that on the day of my daughter’s wedding and now u want me to do u a solid

FUTABA: well i have news for u

FUTABA: the answer

FUTABA: is yeah

FUTABA: sure why not

YUSUKE: Oh, excellent.

YUSUKE: I thought that you might decline on account of your illness.

FUTABA: i’m not a punk bitch

FUTABA: i’m going

FUTABA: u were only working all those paintings for like two months i wanna see their oily faces in person

YUSUKE: Just because they were made with oil paints does not mean that they are oily.

FUTABA: cant wait to see my oily boys

YUSUKE: Unfortunately, I have to set up the event beforehand, so I will not be able to accompany you on the way here.

YUSUKE: Will you be alright by yourself?

FUTABA: uh

FUTABA: hmm

FUTABA: how oily are these boys in case i need to call a rain check

YUSUKE: Hmm.

YUSUKE: Perhaps someone else can go with you.

YUSUKE: Let me see if I can find someone.

FUTABA: what like one of ur art friends

FUTABA: i’m not going with anyone i dont know sry

YUSUKE: I’ll keep it in mind.

Tuesday, 1:59 PM

YUSUKE: Unfortunately, Ann and Ryuji were not available. Both of them will be coming late to the art show.

YUSUKE: Fortunately, Goro is.

FUTABA: whomst

YUSUKE: Goro Akechi?

YUSUKE: Crow, in case you know multiple Goro Akechis.

FUTABA: no like why u callin him goro

YUSUKE: I asked him if I could and he said yes.

YUSUKE: There’s not many people left in Tokyo who were part of the Thieves.

YUSUKE: I’m not exactly popular at school myself, so I thought it prudent to hold onto the connections I already had.

FUTABA: hhhhhhhhhhhhh

FUTABA: but why him……………………………………….

YUSUKE: Has he done something wrong?

YUSUKE: Well.

YUSUKE: Besides the obvious.

YUSUKE: Last I heard, you were quite vocally supportive of Goro making a change for the better,but have you prehaps reconsidered?

FUTABA: i mean he’s always been nice to me

FUTABA: like even before he was on the team as crow

FUTABA: and then later after he like lost his shit and tried to kill us

FUTABA: he was also like weirdly nice

FUTABA: even if he was dressed as a tokusatsu villain

FUTABA: but

FUTABA: i

FUTABA: ok this is gonna sound really weird but like

FUTABA: you know how i said that the person to take me to the art show has to be someone that i know

YUSUKE: Yes.

FUTABA: even though akechi was one of the thieves at the end

FUTABA: i feel like i dont really know him

FUTABA: he like had that whole breakdown where he spilled all his kylo ren sadstuck junk and then he peeled his dumb ass up off the floor and then we beat up his dad in a dark alley

FUTABA: and then i guess akira likes him a bunch and hangs out with him and i guess probably talked to him about all that stuff that happened

FUTABA: and also i think ann talks to him

FUTABA: and also haru i think for some reason……………………..

FUTABA: but like i feel like. we as a group. never really uhhhhhhh

FUTABA: got to know him very well i guess

FUTABA: because he spent like the whole year being a fake ass bitch

FUTABA: and then by the time he wasnt, the thieves were busy literally fighting god, and it was all business business business

FUTABA: ughghfhg i guess this is just a really long way of saying that like yeah ok i guess i do know him but i dont think i really do

FUTABA: even when he was off the shits in the engine room it was like

FUTABA: somehow that was not……………………………….. really him

FUTABA: idk maybe this is just my Thoughts but like

FUTABA: idk some people are like “your true self is who you are at your worst” and

FUTABA: yeah maybe you are some PART of urself when youre at your worst but like

FUTABA: also not???

FUTABA: that can’t be it

FUTABA: that’s not ALL of you

FUTABA: so all i ever saw was him when he was being a fake ass barbie prince and then when he was like actively losing his shit

FUTABA: and both of those were like. two types of fake ass barbie prince

FUTABA: except obviously the one where he started screamin about murder and trying to kill joker was like, fake ass serial killer barbie prince

FUTABA: anyway i dont buy it for a second that seeing akechi at his worst means that i know the first thing about his “”“”“”“”“true self”“”“”“”“”“”“

FUTABA: like i know that i technically met him but also at the same time i dont think ive ever really actually met this dude

FUTABA: uh tldr what’s the truth crowboy

FUTABA: second tldr do you got anyone else i can go to the art show with because im not unpackin all that junk in the trunk while also trying to fend off a panic attack in the subway

YUSUKE: Well, to speak to "what’s the truth, crowboy,” I’d say he’s actually really funny.

FUTABA: WHAT

YUSUKE: Yes, actually.

FUTABA: YOU TRYNA TELL ME YOU SHARE A SENSE OF HUMOR W AKECHI

YUSUKE: As everyone knows, I don’t have a sense of humor.

YUSUKE: But if I did, that might not be inaccurate to say.

YUSUKE: Either way, we could ask Boss if he’ll take you to school.

FUTABA: no

FUTABA: im not makin him shut down leblanc for the day just cause i cant get my shit together

FUTABA: and i go to school by myself all the time now i dont need to be walked there by my dad like a four yr old

FUTABA: r u sure u dont have anyone else who can take me

YUSUKE: You said it had to be someone you know.

YUSUKE: I can take you.

YUSUKE: But I’ll be getting to Kosei early to prepare.

FUTABA: how early is early

YUSUKE: Four in the morning.

FUTABA: PLEASE INARI

YUSUKE: The people you know is a quite limited pool, Futaba.

FUTABA: shut the hell ur face i dont need u tellin me to make kosei friends too

FUTABA: i get my butt to school every day i’m already a hero

FUTABA: ok alright

FUTABA: crow-san it is

FUTABA: hhh

FUTABA: no shut up stop typing i’m fine

FUTABA: i already saw his dumb ass get inflicted with Horny from Yaldy God Himself i ain’t afraid of no crows

FUTABA: actually now that i remember that that was pretty funny mwehehehehehehe

FUTABA: OKAY send me the who what when where why

YUSUKE: There’s a PDF flier. I’ll send it to you.

YUSUKE: But I will have to type the email to send it to you.

FUTABA: oh my GOD inari

FUTABA: i swear to god ur not actually this dense and youre just pretending u dont know what an exaggeration is just to drive me up the wall

YUSUKE: Oh, that is a possibility, isn’t it?

FUTABA: WH

YUSUKE: Ah, last period is starting. I’ll have to talk to you later.

FUTABA: WHAT

FUTABA: NO WAIT

FUTABA: HELLO????

FUTABA: YUSUKE NO COME BACK

Tuesday, 2:53 PM

FUTABA: YUSUKE HAVE YOU BEEN MAKING AKECHI DO UR HW FOR U SO YOU CAN DO MORE ART??

FUTABA: IS THAT WHY UR ON A FIRST NAME BASIS W HIM

FUTABA: ANSWER ME STRINGBEAN

*

In Futaba’s opinion, there’s an infinite amount of more embarrassing reasons to pull yourself out of your depression pit than “I needed to yell at my friend for being a snotty bastard,“ and there’s worse escorts to have than the weird guy who went from being a professional murderer to their weird awkward friend. Firstly, if there’s anything that can motivate Futaba Sakura, it’s the primal urge to dunk on her friends for spite and memes. Secondly, there’s no chance in hell Futaba’s going to have a breakdown in front of Akechi.

She can do this. She got herself out of this grave once; she can do it again. Even if Akira isn’t here. She’s getting better. She promised him.

On the eighth day of her almost-return to hermithood, Akechi texts her:

AKECHI: I’m here.

AKECHI: Are you ready to go?

Futaba is wearing only an old shirt, no bra, sweats, and vaguely greasy hair from all the showers she’s skipped.

FUTABA: i’m SO ready

FUTABA: the readiest

FUTABA: ultra mega super ready

FUTABA: featherman ranger code name Ready

AKECHI: Oh.

AKECHI: Alright.

Hell yes alright. Time for Futaba to save her own life from her gravesite of a room.

With… Goro Akechi. Wow, life is weird, huh?

She drags on her Kosei uniform like a skin discarded long ago. It feels stiff. Maybe because it feels wrong to wear school clothes like a functioning human; maybe because she just hasn’t washed it in a week. The very idea of explaining herself to Sojiro stresses her out, so she doesn’t do it. The idea of not explaining herself to Sojiro, when he deserves an explanation and also would probably have a heart attack if he realized that she’d disappeared from her room without his knowing, also stresses her out, so she still doesn’t explain herself to Sojiro.

I told Akira I’m better now. I can do this. I did this for more than six months. I was out of my room in the real world, I went to the school festival, I changed my own heart…

She creeps down the stairs like a thief in her own house and pokes her head out the door. Goro Akechi is fiddling with his phone in the sun outside her house, looking like he, too, has only just managed to pull on his Human Suit and look like a guy who didn’t make shadows beg for mercy for fun, so it looks like this whole expedition is going to be a lot of fun.

"Futaba-chan?” says Akechi, only just noticing her lurking in her own doorway. “It’s been a while since we last saw each other. How are you?”

Futaba opens her mouth. No noise comes out.

Akechi’s eyebrows slowly begin to knit together.

“I’m good,” she says squeakily. Clears her throat. Holy shit, she’s not afraid of Akechi after all that junk they went through in the Metaverse. She saw him as a rat. She saw him visibly want to break his father’s face when Shido tried to apologize to him on live TV. Once, Makoto and Akechi got into an unironic, passionate, hour-long argument about whether or not it’s beneficial to color code your notes.

“I’m alright!” Futaba announces louder, maybe a little loudly, considering the way he looks only more concerned. “L-Let’s hurry up and get this sidequest over with!”

She pulls her hoodie over her head and jams her hands into the pockets and makes herself as small as possible and inches out of the doorway. “If you… say so,” says Akechi, and eventually matches her incredibly slow pace as she shuffles her way towards the main street.

When the noise of Yongen-Jaya’s street hits her, her heart rate (already high as hell) spikes even higher like the first day she’d come out of her room, but the old coping mechanisms come back like second nature: Breathe slower, avoid eye contact, remember her mission, stick to the sides of the streets. Breathe slower. She’s still got it. It’s still hard, but she’s got a whole arsenal of ways to deal. She can do this. She will kick Yusuke’s ass for being a dick, if only out of sheer spite.

If Akira were here, I could hide behind him and…

No, shut up, shut up. All she has is her hoodie and Goro Akechi. Akira’s not here. She can do this by herself.

Akechi makes precisely two attempts at small talk (“How has Kosei been?” “Have you seen the pieces Yusuke submitted to the art show before?”) before he realizes that Futaba isn’t going to respond by virtue of barely holding onto her shit by her fingernails. He shuts up and sticks close by. Futaba makes her way down the streets towards the subway like walking on a tightrope. The subway station isn’t busy, but she puts every step in front of her like she’s going to fall. Getting on the subway might as well be a highwire. Futaba and Akechi wait for the train in mutual silence to the sound of other commuters murmuring amongst themselves, like a toothless echo of Mementos’s depths.

When they get on the train, people around her are quiet, thank god, but all of a sudden she’s convinced that she smells because she hasn’t taken a shower in literal days, and she tries to pack herself into her seat as tightly as possible. The guy in front of her is scrolling through something at a ferocious pace and his thumbnail keeps hitting the screen with this incessant clack, clack, clack noise. The subway voice announces their next station as the doors begin to close, and a girl suddenly sits bolt upright, having realized that this is her station after all, and bangs Futaba’s knees hard as she passes. Futaba wants to curl her legs to her chest, but she’s wearing Kosei’s uniform skirt and it’d just make everyone stare at her if she did that on the subway. She curls her fingers into the skirt hem. She stares down at her knees and lets her hair drape around her like a curtain. She can do this. She can do this. Breathe slower. Even slower. I did this for more than six months, I told Akira I’m better now, I changed my own heart…

Akechi pulls out his phone. Futaba’s phone buzzes.

AKECHI: Are you alright?

FUTABA: i said i was ready dude

Akechi types and retypes an answer, which technically Futaba could just look over his arm and read, but instead Futaba flips through apps on her phone and pulls up a shitty mobile dungeon crawler. She dies four times before Akechi puts his phone away without sending anything.

They pass multiple stations like that. Futaba sure as hell hopes that Akechi’s watching which station they’re on, because she isn’t. After the millionth time she dies, Futaba just closes the app altogether. Concentration’s shot. Can’t focus on anything. Heartbeat’s too loud. Breathing’s too loud. The guy next to her is breathing too loud. Everything is too loud.

New text:

AKECHI: Yusuke said you’d recovered from your cold, but you still look a little unwell.

Futaba doesn’t respond to that. She doesn’t need Negative Nancy over here telling her she’s gonna crack. Because she isn’t gonna. The subway starts to slow, and the voice announces the station for Yusuke’s school. She’s literally almost there, she’s right there, she might die in three seconds because her heart is going to pound of her chest but at least she’s going to make it, she promised Akira that she was alright—

The subway doors open. Passengers stand to get off. Akechi stands up. Futaba drops like a rock.

“I can’t,” Futaba’s voice says. She sounds like she’s crying. “I can’t, I can’t do it, I—”

“Futaba—”

“I’m can’t do it, I—”

She buries her face in her knees on the dirty subway floor. Oh, she really is crying. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t…”

Around her, people’s feet stop moving. They’re staring at her. She’s crying on the subway and everyone is staring at her. “Shh,” says Akechi, like Futaba doesn’t know she’s being a loud and irritating pest, but then he takes off his winter coat and covers her with it. Suddenly everything goes dark. It’s a huge coat, too; it wraps around her whole torso with enough room to spare to cover her entire head. Inside, it’s like she’s back in her room, only listening to the sounds of real life somewhere on the other side of a computer monitor, where it can’t hurt her. It’s so surprising she hiccups to a stop. Two hands pull her up by the shoulders and guide her to stand. “Up. Let’s go.”

“Is she okay?” says a voice.

Futaba’s entire body seizes with fear. She ducks into her own knees, trying to disappear.

“Hey, little girl, are you alright?”

“She’ll be fine,” says Akechi’s friendly, super fake ass barbie prince voice. “My sister just had a hard day. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

“A hard day?” Now the stranger’s voice is accusatory.

“For your information, our dog was recently brutally run over in front of her eyes.”

“Young man, are you serious right now?”

“Oh, yes. There was blood everywhere. Its intestines squelched horribly under the tires less than six feet away from her,” Akechi goes on. Futaba chokes, and then hiccups in what she realizes is almost a laugh. “Please excuse her. Thank you.” And before the literal complete stranger can follow up on that awful statement, Akechi takes her hand and pulls her up.

Futaba stumbles to her feet. If she has to take the coat off right now, she will actually die.

“It’s okay. Just hold my hand and follow me.”

Blindly, she lets him lead her out of the subway, weaving through people with only minimal contact with other people’s shoulders. There’s a whole awkward period where Akechi has to walk her up the stairs out of the subway station while she can’t see anything, but eventually the noise and bustle of other people around her seems to die away, and the air grows cooler in the way it does in the shadows between city buildings. Then they stop walking altogether. When Akechi lets go of her hand, she almost tries to grab it back before she catches herself.

“Okay. There��s nobody else around, now. It’s safe.”

Futaba doesn’t come out of the jacket. In the dark, her eyes dart back and forth, trying to see even as she blinds herself.

“Sorry for grabbing you so suddenly like that,” Akechi’s voice goes on after it becomes obvious she’s not going to come out.

Futaba wipes snottily at her own face. Oh, this is so gross, she’s got snot and tears on top of five days worth of grime and body juice because she hadn’t taken a shower. She’s disgusting. She really actually wants to die right now. She can’t show her face like this.

“Er,” says Akechi. “Do you want…. water, or…?”

Futaba folds up right there on the city pavement, probably dragging Akechi’s nice coat all over a dirty alleyway. She tucks her face into her knees, where she feels safest, and pulls the coat flaps even tighter. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I’m sorry for not being okay,” she mumbles.

There’s a short silence. “You really don’t have to be.”

“I do,” Futaba says. She feels like she’s nine years old again, a petulant kid who needs to hold people’s hands and be escorted around Tokyo. “This is—it’s stupid, and I can’t believe I-I’m still doing this, a-and even a-after everything that h-happened last year, I’m still just a… I’m still…”

“It’s fine,” says Akechi. Even he sounds overwhelmed, and at the first sound of weakness, she pulls the coat off her head and glares at him furiously, red-faced and covered in tears and snot and gross depression juice crust and all.

“I’m not supposed to be this way anymore!” she says miserably. “I’m supposed to be better! Moved on! Doing literally a-anything else but crying over t-taking a subway! It’s stupid and nobody else is like this and I just want to be over this already and I just want to be better already and—!“

She covers her face with her hands again. God, even when she says that, it sounds pathetic.

After a moment or two, she hears Akechi moving again. She peeks at him. He’s crouching in almost the exact same pose as her, looking like he’s resigning himself to neither getting his coat back, nor moving from this spot any time soon, nor getting to Yusuke’s art show on time, but also looking archly and entirely unperturbed about it. Actually, it looks like he’s writing a work email on his phone.

Futaba was right about being in an alleyway, but it’s so cold because they’re shielded by a trio of vending machines selling canned coffee and wrapped sandwiches. "Our dog was recently run over?” she says.

“People can mind their own damn business,” says Akechi in his Pleasant Boy Voice, without looking up from his email.

“He was just trying to help.”

“Oh, yes, let’s help the crying girl by crowding her and suffocating her in a crush of public transit.”

Futaba snorts. “That was really mean of you.”

“Oh, absolutely,” says Akechi.

Futaba sucks a truly disgusting gob of snot into her nose. “Ugh. I wish I could’ve seen the guy’s face when you told him that.”

“It was like I’d spat on his shoes. I should’ve kept going. Or had a camera.”

“Futaba giggles wetly into her forearms. "Like one of those—those prank videos online… Get Yusuke to film it.”

“Yusuke, as the cameraman? I’m not trying to make a documentary.” Akechi flips to a different screen on his phone. “I already texted Yusuke about our poor dead dog, by the way, so don’t worry about it.”

Suddenly Futaba feels like literal garbage again. “Why are you always so nice to me?” she mumbles.

Akechi makes a weird face, like he’s trying to do his old Pleasant Boy shtick while having swallowed a lemon whole. “You say that like me being nice is somehow unusual.”

“Uh, yeah. Because it is. You literally were just being a huge asshole to a guy you’d never met over a fictional dog.”

Akechi has this increasingly disgruntled look on his face like he kind of wants to punt Futaba down some stairs, which, frankly, is the best sort of reward, in Futaba’s opinion. “I’m working on it,” he says grumpily.

“How’s that been?” says Futaba.

“Which part?”

Futaba has one whole moment of self reflection on this idea as maybe not a good course of action before she barrels on anyway: “The part where you’re turning your life around. Starting over. Trying again.”

“It sucks dick,” says Akechi.

“Oh, right on,” says Futaba, and then before she can stop herself: “Wait, I thought you liked dick?”

Akechi makes a noise like a strangled cat.

Futaba cackles. “Dude, incognito mode when you’re browsing for porn does not save you from people like me.”

“Have you been spying on me?”

“Uh, yes? Obviously?”

“You know you could get arrested for that sort of breach in privacy.”

“Oh, boo hoo, so sorry I know all about your weird orphan-saving night job and your smutty Featherman doujinshi collection. You’re not gonna narc on me.” Futaba stops. “Are you?”

“Stop looking at my internet history.”

“No. You better not narc on me.”

“Then stop looking at my internet history.”

“You had to google how to change a SIM card last week, crow-boy; you couldn’t stop me if you tried.”

“I will narc on you.”

“No you won’t. You’re the one trying to not be an asshole.”

Akechi makes a face like a cat being slowly submerged in cold water. Futaba laughs in his face.

“If you’re quite done,” says Akechi grouchily.

“No, never. You’re made for being made fun of,” says Futaba. “I’m gonna be making fun of you for years and years, crow-boy; you’re never going to get rid of me.”

“Great.”

“Gonna be creeping on your weird orphan-saving night job until the day you die.”

“Wonderful,” says Akechi without inflection whatsoever.

“Mwehehehehehehehehehe.”

“If you’re quite done.”

“I will take a well-deserved break from my endless duty to troll you both on and offline,” says Futaba. “Because I really really really wanna go to the art show.”

Akechi has the nerve to look relieved that he no longer has to squat in a dirty alleyway listening to a high school freshman bully him. “Then let’s go.”

Futaba hugs her knees tight. “But I wanna keep your coat.”

“Aren’t you wearing your own coat?” says Akechi, trying to look like he isn’t shivering. “Aren’t you getting hot?”

“I’m keeping it.”

“It’s my coat.”

“I’m keeping it.”

“Fine, then. Keep it. It’s dry clean only.”

“Oh, ew. No, take it back, gross, gross,” and Futaba peels the snotty, tear-stained, dirty winter coat off and dumps it back in Akechi’s arms, who looks at it with the expression of someone long-suffering and without hope of escape.

“And,” says Futaba, “I wanna see it if you tell anyone else that our dog got run over.”

Akechi smirks. “You’ll have to film it, then.”

“Oh my god, like I wouldn’t.”

Futaba scrubs her face one last time. She still feels like she’s covered in a grimy layer of slime, but maybe she can wash her face at Kosei. When she gets there. Because she’s gonna get there.

“Uh, one more thing,” says Futaba.

“Not like you’ve bullied me into doing literally everything else you’ve wanted,” says Akechi.

“You can’t laugh at me.”

“Good thing I don’t have a sense of humor,” says Akechi, which horrifyingly confirms to Futaba that Akechi and Yusuke, of all people, really do share a sense of humor.

Futaba hesitates. “Please, um… please don’t tell Akira about this.”

“Why would I tell Akira?“

"Nice. Good answer.” She smooths her hair down, trying to make herself presentable, or just have something to do with her hands. “I… told him I was gonna be okay without him and all that, so… I don’t wanna let him down, you know?”

Slowly, almost shyly, Akechi smiles. “Oh, yes. I know.”

“Our secret. Secret-keepers.”

“Secret-keepers. Are you ready?”

Futaba takes another deep breath. Pushes herself up, brushes herself off, and sighs. “Absolutely not. This is gonna suck so much dick,” says Futaba. “Let’s go anyway.”

[lnarizakis]

a two-player game (2 lives left!) | k. kenma

masterlist

2 lives left! | a two-player game: kozume kenma x f! reader 

STATISTICS

PLAYER ONE: KOZUME KENMA.

SHOCK: — — — — — 5/5

OBLIVIOUSNESS: — — — 3/5

ADVICE-GIVING: — — — — 4/5

FRIENDLINESS: — — — 3/5

IN LOVE: — — — — — 5/5

PLAYER TWO: (L/N) (Y/N).

SHOCK: — 1/5

OBLIVIOUSNESS: — — — — 4/5

ADVICE-GIVING: — — — 3/5

FRIENDLINESS: — — — — — 5/5

IN LOVE: — — — — — 5/5

(U/N): hello? u still there?

(U/N): hellooooo

(U/N): afk much? haha

(U/N): u didnt finish what u were sYing\

Kenma stared at his screen, wondering what he should say. His mind wandered, thinking about the fact that (Y/N) was somewhere out there, in the comforts of her own home, sitting and playing the same game he was playing. He thought about how she was probably sitting cross-legged, or slouched, or her back completely straight as she probably wore headphones over her ears, or earbuds tucked in the confines of her ears, or blasted the game soundtrack through the speakers of her computer. Kenma sighed, as he slouched back in his chair. A blush crept over his face. He was talking to his crush over a video game. It was practically like texting her. Kenma began to type once more.

applepi: yea im still here

applepi: so abt my crush

No, no, no! What was he doing? He couldn’t possibly tell his crush about his crush! Why? Why would he do that?! He immediately typed in a “never mind.” Despite some protests from the other person, the two pretended to forget that ever happened.

—

All throughout the weekend, Kenma sulked and sulked. There was no particular reason, but he just felt so uncomfortable knowing that he told his crush that he had a crush on someone. There was also the factor that (Y/N) didn’t seem quite interested in what he had to say about his predicament, unlike past times where he could talk about anything he wanted and she would gladly contribute all she had to offer to help the poor boy out.

And so the terrible weekend had ended. It was a nice break for Kenma, being away from everything and everyone; he immersed himself in the virtual world as he let go of all of his worries. But now he had to face reality once more - he had to face (Y/N), the terrible final boss. He had so many more enemies he had to defeat (his teammates, according to Kenma), but the powerful weapon of ignoring them always beat them in the end.

He wanted to stay in his bad mood for the entire school day. It was his plan, and it was a really good plan, but (Y/N) just had to ruin it.

Kenma sat at his desk in his classroom that morning they returned from the weekend. He stared at the nothingness that lay before him on his desk until he heard the sweet sound of (Y/N)’s voice when she came through the door to the classroom. He heard her laugh as she greeted those around her a good morning. He relished in the music as she walked towards her desk.

“Good morning, Kenma-kun!” (Y/N) chirped, as she sat down. Kenma jumped at the sudden words, and he felt warmth everywhere, especially in his cheeks. He smiled at the sound of her greeting, and said one back. God, no one could make him feel the way she makes him feel when he’s around her. He took a deep breath, knowing that his unrequited love consumed his whole heart. Ah, if he were only as smooth as Kuroo was and knew his way with words.

10 DAMAGE TAKEN!

Kenma frowned; from a mile away, one could tell he was clearly in a bad mood. He hung his head down low, as he was reminded of (Y/N)’s date last weekend.

“Kenma-kun, are you okay? Is there something wrong?” (Y/N) asked, her voice laced with concern. Her eyes studied his face, discontentment written all over it. She wondered what she should do; if only she could consult applepi in this situation. The setter faced (Y/N) and he smiled.

“Ah, it’s nothing, (Y/N)-san, please don’t worry,” he murmured, hoping that she would get the feeling that he would like to be left alone.

10 DAMAGE TAKEN!

And so for the rest of the time they sat next to each other during class, (Y/N) thought about everything that applepi had advised her to do with every problem that she had:

(U/N): help!!! i cant decide between buying a sword or a dagger from this shopkeeper

applepi: hm get a sword bc u will get more gold out of the enemy

—

(U/N): theres this one friend i have & i feel like she rlly hates me??/?

applepi: are you only focusing on the small details?

applepi: look at the big picture & notice her behavior around u,

applepi: is it different from when shes around other ppl?

—

(U/N): do u think its weird that talking to u feels like an escape from reality?

applepi: no i feel the same.

applepi: i think that talking to someone u barely know is a good way to let loose bc they dont know who u r

—

(U/N): how do you get rid of the feeling of missing someone?

applepi: i talk to them thru text as if they were sitting right next to me

applepi: like how im talking to u right now

...

(Y/N) looked down at her notes to see that she had written nothing compared to all the complicated words written on the blackboard. She had been staring at the blackboard daydreaming about how she had fallen in love with her internet best friend. (Y/N) thought it was silly, really; it was stupid how she had fallen in love over text on a screen. But those words, all of those words that some guy out there named “applepi” had accompanied her throughout her best and her worst times. She could stay up all night to see them up as well, fighting away enemies to clear the level. From in-game items to wise words of advice, (Y/N) owed so much to this person.

And Kenma had no idea that his crush liked him back.

+1 OBLIVIOUSNESS!

—

(Y/N) was a very friendly person; everybody in the volleyball club could see that. It seemed to Kenma, of course, that (Y/N) was the friendliest with Kuroo Tetsuro, the captain. All throughout practice they would constantly make jokes with each other, teasing and pushing each other around. It hurt Kenma; it really did. But (Y/N) did not know that.

In fact, after that dreaded date over the weekend, (Y/N) and Kuroo promised to each other that they would not go out on a second date. They realized that they were better off as friends, for Kuroo could sense in (Y/N)’s eyes and her words that she had the ability to break Kenma out of his shell, even further than Hinata had done. She also told off Kuroo, telling him that she couldn’t date someone who had such weird bed-head hair, much to his disdain. He couldn’t get rid of it! And besides… she already had someone in her heart.

But the point of the matter is: Kenma was taking this completely the wrong way. He watched with jealous eyes as Kuroo and (Y/N) shared playful banter. Her beautiful laugh rang in Kenma’s ears for all the wrong reasons.

10 DAMAGE TAKEN!

As they practiced serving, Kuroo used this as an opportunity to try out his jump serves. He was consistent, but the one time he hit it into the net, (Y/N), who was watching for stray balls, called out to him, teased him to no end. The other teammates laughed on, especially Haiba Lev, whose serves were just as bad. Kenma mentally cursed at Kuroo, for stealing away (Y/N). He could never possibly curse at him for real; everyone would be in shock at his sudden outburst and ask him what was wrong. (Y/N) would ask him what was wrong. And if that happened… he would freeze up and definitely lose another life.

10 DAMAGE TAKEN!

When they began practicing receiving, Taketora called out to Yaku to try out Karasuno’s libero’s “Rolling Thunder,” or whatever it was called, to which Kuroo made a sarcastic remark that Yaku could never pull off something as flashy as that. (Y/N) laughed, despite not knowing what the “Rolling Thunder” move was. Once again, Kenma mentally told off Kuroo to stop saying funny things that (Y/N) could laugh at. His jokes were the ones that made (Y/N) laugh; he knows this because she laughed at all the jokes he made over their chat in their video game.

10 DAMAGE TAKEN!

During their water break, Kuroo and (Y/N) played a little chasing game as she playfully refused to hand him his water bottle. She tossed his bottle to Taketora, who then threw it to Fukunaga, handing it over to Yaku. Kuroo chased the libero around, who passed it on to Inuoka. He gave a hearty laugh as he tossed it to Lev. Silly, clumsy Lev called out to Kenma as the tall boy threw it to Kenma, who with his slow reaction did not catch it in time. The lid of the bottle flew open, and water poured out everywhere. Everyone else watched in shock, but the initial shock passed by them as they all began laughing.

Kenma thought they were all laughing at him.

10 DAMAGE TAKEN!

The same ordeals continued even after the water break, and after a millennia later, the practice ended. Kenma, along with everyone else, helped clean up after practice. They also cleaned up the little water spill, which (Y/N) thanked Kenma for helping clean up.

Kenma changed his clothes in the club room. He was the only one inside, as Kuroo and (Y/N) were outside waiting for him. He could hear their laughter through the doors. Then they suddenly went silent. Kenma groaned, knowing that they were probably making out or something, as he buttoned his uniform back up.

10 DAMAGE TAKEN!

He opened the door, and to his surprise, Kuroo and (Y/N) were actually not exploring each others’ mouths with their tongues. Instead, he opened the door to see a smirking Kuroo and a very, very flustered (Y/N). She gasped slightly when she caught sight of Kenma and she turned her flustered face away from his prying eyes. Poor Kenma thought that he had accidentally caught them making out and they pulled away right as he opened the door.

10 DAMAGE TAKEN!

And so he walked away, leaving them in the dust.

10 DAMAGE TAKEN!

He thought he heard her call out, “Kenma-kun, wait!”

10 DAMAGE TAKEN!

1 LIFE LEFT! FINAL LIFE!

—

hello! thank you for reading! next part is the last part, so please comment if you want me to tag you on the last part! whatchu guys think so far? lemme know! i also take requests too........... B)

taglist (comment/ask to be added!): @i-bitch-you-bitch @cadememe @animefan7420 (wont let me tag u :( !!!!) @issalilmessy

[mintyicee]

Warning: skip this post if want

It’s a rant...and i absolutely hate you tumblr app bc i had to redue this twice now! >:(

Anyway, I’m used to being ignored. Everyone around me since i was little to being a young adult now has left me to own thoughts and corner in my home since forever. Though i am partially to blame being an introvert and an absolutely horrible friend in keeping contact with friends online, I mostly do so if i feel no one wants to hear, see, speak, or look at me. I will personally disappear and hide myself bc i feel it will make others happy if i wasnt around. As if i didn’t exist. True, not everyone in your life will be around forever and true, being oneself is your greatest friend. But, as shy or quiet as i am, I love being around other ppl. I dont want to be around ppl 24/7 but i do want to connect with ppl i feel can appreciate me at my fullest and without feeling like im weird or the odd ball that doesnt belong.

With that being said, I may be USED to it but i ABSOLUTELY HATE IT. As any human being would of coarse and a lot of ppl have it worse dont get me wrong. Making this rant already makes me feel selfish and in need of pity which isnt why im writing this. Simply put i want to push this anger out of me and get it out of my system bc i feel i cant move forward until i do so. And when it comes to my problems i suck at communicating it to others bc i feel they have much more important things to be doing then to babysit someone who is feeling down (but id drop everything to listen to others sadness bc i care way too much). 

I hate feeling like i did back when i lived in my hometown. Very lonely and sad. Constantly crying. I wouldn’t do anything all summer but cry in my room bc of how alone i felt. And i gave a very important part of me away just to make sure i had at least one person hanging around. I regret it very much but my efforts to hang out with the friends i saw at school outside of school would be very close to zero. Everyone is either busy or just low key didnt want to hang out with me. Tho i was lucky to have at least one friend I would see more in certain grades, it wasnt constant. And once all the drama with my nuclear family subsided, i was much more alone in the house than before middle school. 

I didnt have a cellphone or home phone, no internet either till i moved and started high school. The things that kept me going usually was my writing, music, and cartoons. Seriously being serious here. The way Id touch base with any of my school friends was to walk to their house and be lucky if they had time or were home. When i moved i had so much hope that Id find ppl to share and spend time with. Not only that but i was in the real world and no longer stuck in a house like a prisoner or place for that matter. But like stupid ppl or racists, the same ppl pop up everywhere as well as the loneliness i was hoping to leave behind. Only it came in a new form: even when im around others. I am/was happier here tho. No longer confined in my hometown house. But recently it feels like i am. This summer has been my loneliest since the move and the feeling like no one cares about me at all have all come back at my lowest and most crucial decision making time of my life. Not being in school this semester/school year is hitting me hard and no job call backs for a whole month now either. 

Partially my fault tho. The new friend crew ive been spending time with have been ignoring anything i said in the group chat. Id be skipped over and lately it feels as if im just upsetting certain ppl and end up talking about me behind my back. Really nothing new but I’ve just had enough of it. Like always I distanced myself and stopped talking all together. I’ve been more political upset in recent days due to certain issues on twitter but I’ve only been talking to my boyfriend and my mother. In hindsight tho, they really are my best friends. They are here for me at my highest and lowest no matter how many times i cry or how suddenly i get upset or frustrated. They are the ones to accept me for who i am. No one else has done this to the extent as they have and really thats all i need. Even if i dont get any other long term friends i dont care bc i know they will be by my side till the end. 

But I also want to say that if you didnt want to be my friend in the first place or you wanted me to initiate the conversation first then u should at least comment back at what im saying. If i said something dumb or something that didnt add to the convo then tell me dont just ignore me like im stupid. I refuse to be your “friend” that you only want around to be made fun of. I’ve been through a lot and yes ik u have your share of problems but if your going to only look at yourself and care about yourself then i dont need you. Im good without having that in my life. Ive had my fill of people who act like that to me. And im also tired of people who dont care about others and present issues. I CRY ABOUT PPL I DONT KNOW THAT ARE ON THE NEWS WHETHER NAMED OR NOT. HELL I CRY EVEN IF THEY ARENT ON THE NEWS! There are soooo many ppl who have it way worse than myself who suffer daily and im sick of hearing ppl dont care about the ppl and situations around them! I wont sit here making an excuse as to why i cant help its the same old issues no money (no job as mentioned above) hell even no car but that doesnt matter. I still pray! I pray for safety of others and i pray that ppl will be alright and i pray that things will get better! And also mentioned earlier, ive been reposting about current issues on twitter! This is small but i want to try!

So please if you had no intentions of sticking around me at any of my current moods, dont appreciate the person i am, or relatively dont give a fuck then dont involve yourself in my life. Yes it hurts to be alone but Id rather have that and be alone then FEEL ALONE WITH PPL IVE COME TO CARE FOR! Also, if I have helped you through thick n thin and you think u can pop into my life whenever you feel like it only to stop talking to me or purposely upset me and even threaten me? GTFO of my life and dont come back! Ever (yes this is about a certain friend who moved away and i helped not commit suicide that im holding a grudge at)!  And if you honestly are going to get upset at the actions ive done and say you do good things when you have zero sign of love for others in your hearts, live in a bubble of your own world, and follow the bible “word for word” get out of my face too bc i dont need ppl who say they are here to help others only to shun me if i dont constantly keep verses in my head or do things the way you want them to be and to have me fight my own demons while going against your beliefs and saying that im not doing what im supposed to (yes this is about church)! I DO THINGS AND CARE WAY MORE THAN YOU DO TRUST ME AND THIS IS THE ONLY TIME IM EVER GOING TO SELFISHLY SAY SO BC ITS BETTER TO BE HUMBLE AND NOT ARROGANT. I TRY SO HARD NOT TO JUDGE YOU YET YOU GET TO JUDGE ME? NO I DONT THINK SO YOU SHOULD START AT LEVEL ONE AGAIN AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE! (still about church not friends here). Also dont worry about the level one thing; you would know what this means if you went to the same church. 

I’ve been couping with the idea that all i need is two friends. I’m so grateful and blessed to have them in my life and if im truly meant to have more than it will be so. I know two others of whom i need to apologize for hardly emailing or sending a message to. I feel so bad i have neglected them only bc ive been feeling so down about this and other issues (like before: school, no job/car, possibly changing career and life goals, etc) but really is no excuse. Welp I’ve said all i wanted to say for the moment. There is another topic i wish to vent about but it will have to be for another day bc i have no energy to complain about that topic. If anyone read all this im sorry i took time out of your day and that I hope you are doing well. I hope you continue to live your life to the fullest and to celebrate the good things not the bad that comes along. I just really needed to vent these emotions so i can finally concentrate on what i need to do. Thank you for listening <3