#when i like to think of Akira as rude and full of himself when its deserved

[samarecharm]

People who really like shuake also seem to write themselves into a corner wrt Akechi and his relationship to Akiras team. Contrary to popular belief, the team, including Haru, does not hate Akechi. At worst, they tolerate him and deal with his attitude. Hes a good teammate and respectable fighter and the team recognizes that at the end of the day, he was a teenager who was manipulated and abused by a man who saw him as disposable. Just about every thief understands this intimately. They have the same mindset wrt adults who take advantage of the people beneath them. Under different circumstances they wouldve been friends. And if u approach it from that angle, it becomes less about Akechi being the sole person who ‘gets’ Akira, and more about the thieves being the only people in the world who ‘get’ Akechi.

When you expand your thoughts to include the thieves as members of his Team and not roadblocks that get in the way of your ideal shipping dynamic, you allow urself to give Akechi and Akira more depth and nuance to their own relationship.

Akira and Akechi are wildcards; both of them struggle with the face they choose to display to the world. Its the first time Akira interacts with someone who is, at a literal, technical level, his ‘equal’. But Akechi is one of many firsts for Akira yeah? Every thief has their bond with Akira thats completely unique and personal. Akechi will never be the person who witnesses Akiras Awakening, hes never the person who watches Akira have his restless nights alone in the attic, and hes never the person who realizes in real time that the teenager hes housing is just Some Kid, not the delinquent hes been warned about. Hes not Ann or Yusuke, or any of the thieves; he doesnt have the time or experience that they have with Akira, and I think its interesting to explore that part of their relationship, shippy or not.

Akechi is someone who is incredibly lonely and self depreciating despite his cockiness and attitude. He has no positive bonds to speak of save for his connection with Sae. To have him see a team that works together and cares for each other, how do you think he would feel? Out of place? Inferior in some way? Angry about how hes been alone for so long in this single minded quest for revenge? Wouldnt that be a point of struggle between the two of them? I think what makes shuake good for me is knowing that Akechi needs alot of time to heal, and the thieves would want to help with that process. They do it bc they care, bc Akira cares, and bc they trust Akiras opinion (and he trusts theirs in return); if Akira feels like Akechi is someone who can be trusted Now after everything thats happened, then the thieves would do their best to help. And how would Akechi feel about that? Angry about the show of pity? That even now, he has no real say in what happens to him? Or begrudgingly grateful that they are cordial with him? Because they do care, he KNOWS they care, they care TOO MUCH actually; but the one thing he values over brawn and wits is honesty- fighting for what you believe in without having to use soft words to justify it.

[fourswords]

starting sketching out light and like. HES 12??? like I get it- he's about to be 13- And knight is the oldest at a grand total of 15 but like-

BRO DOESNT EVEN HAVE AN ATTENTION SPAN YET???

like I know they're dumb in the manga but 😭 every 12-13 year old I've ever met is like a certified dumpster fire, which you might wanna consider in his character lmso

but I just feel like after the manga it wouldn't even matter that he saved Hyrule, he's just getting grounded until he's a legal adult 😭

like azure THATS A BABY- Aint no way he's smart enough to have even survived half the manga even with his dumb luck!

im crying please add like one year to all their ages im on my hands and knees is your goal to give this tiny child some form of PTSD because he is IN CONSTANT DANGER.children need to have a sense of safety (and their stupidity doesn't count, blue got swallowed alive and frozen, vio was lying to SAVE HIS LIFE, green was straight up about to kill vio and had to deal with attacking another knight, and couldn't bring himself to attack their own dad, and then red got chased by an angry mob and then lost all will to LIVE with blue in that one temple-) 12 is barely even conscious and self aware 😭

like I know 12 year olds have complex emotions and can handle abstract concepts and start getting into deeper moral understanding- but my human of earth the self awareness is either ONE THOUSAND OR ZERO AND THERE ISNT A BETWEEN AT THAT AGE-

im sorry if I sound rude or something btw I'm mostly just joking and I tend to overdramatize for comedic effect but I genuinely cant wrap my head around him being just 12- like at least 14??? maybe bump knight to 16 while ur at it? ?

also I'm gonna figure out some way to incorporate the different colors into his hat probably, its big so its like a bag lol since in the manga blue just shoved his whole hammer in there I'm pretty sure

smithy will be extremely small without complaint.

feel free not to take my words seriously tho lol I just cant imagine a 12 year old going thru the manga, like look me in the eyes and tell me a 12 year old-

if I misunderstood anything lmk lol I am a lil stupid sometimes

HAHAHA YES HE IS IN FACT TWELVE. The Legend of Zelda is a series that's all about "yeah let's hand this child a sword and let him go nuts" (to use a popular example, BOTW Link being canonically handed a sword at age four and is said in Mipha's diary to have been able to best grown men in fights: "At the request of Hyrule's king, a group of outsiders came to greet us at the domain. One of them was a Hylian child of only about four years of age. His name was Link. He made quite a first impression. He was curious and full of energy, with a ready smile. Are all Hylian children that way? One thing that surely sets him apart is his swordsmanship, which I hear is exceptional. He has even bested adults. He must be somewhat reckless, however, as he was covered in bruises.") and I absolutely intend to lean into that as much as possible. Light's age comes mainly from comparing Akira Himekawa's designs for Links of varying ages side-by-side with each other; for example, you have Minish Cap Link, who's very obviously drawn like a young child:

You have Twilight Princess Link and Ocarina of Time Link, both drawn to look like older teenagers (and we know OOT Link's older age is 16-17 depending on who you ask):

We have Skyward Sword Prequel Link, who is a fully-fledged adult (his other panels illustrate the difference more sharply, but this is what he looks like, so):

And then we have FSA Link in the manga, who is drawn to be VERY visibly younger than OOT, TP and SS Prequel Link, but is definitely visibly older than MC Link (he's got the rounder face + eyes, the shorter stature, and it becomes even more visible when compared to the knights in the FSA manga itself):

His maturity level also does, to me, match that of an average 12-year-old nepo baby (which he really kind of is)—kid who thinks he knows everything & that he's hot shit but is kind of a giant train wreck internally.

All three Four Sword heroes prior to him were explicitly stated to be "young boys", and FSA manga Link is really no different in that regard—in the context of my own AU, he's actually the one who went on his adventure at the oldest age (with Smithy going on his around 8-9, Four going on his at 10, and Knight now going on his at 11). It's just been a shorter time since his adventure than it has been for the others ^^;

[silvermystification]

Betting on Christmas

Idk why I like posting my fics here instead of other sites, but I do. Got a Persona 5 fanfiction coming your way. Christmas addition because why not? Here’s the point where I say the obligatory I do not own any of these characters. This is just my portrayal.

Anyways~

Word Count:  2,472

Pairings: Pegoryu, Hint to HaruMako

Author’s note: My version of Akira is an Enby (He/They pronouns). Also this is Christmas fluff. There’s nothing sad about this story. All the fluff you can ever ask for. 

Akira stared at the ceiling for just a bit longer, sighing at himself before promptly getting out of bed. Shivering as the cold air hit his arms, well it was December after all. Looking around for something warm to put on when he spotted the purple of Ryuji’s sweater peaking from under the bed.

 He bit his bottom lip, as he thought to himself, would it really be okay if he wore it? He picked it up off the floor shaking the dust off. When another burst of cold air hit his skin. Screw it, he was cold.

 It was musty from sitting on the floor for over a month, yet somehow the faint smell of Ryuji still lingered. Akira would be lying to himself if he said he did not miss his best friend. Or were they more then that, he still did not know.

Akira shook his head of the thoughts and trotted down the stairs, “Well innit my favourite enby.” Came a voice from the table to the right.

A quick gasp of surprise escaped his lips, Ryuji was not due back for another week. “Here to ambush me again I see.” Akira gained his composure quickly.

“No stop.” Ryuji said through a smile, he could not be annoyed for long.

Standing up Ryuji hooked his arms over his friend’s shoulders, embracing him into a hug. “My sweater?” He asked, breaking from the hug and tugging at the bottom; The distance between the two, remaining short.

“You’re just noticing this.” Akira chimed, blush seeping its way to his cheeks.  He knew he shouldn’t have put the sweater on.

Flustered, Ryuji let go of the sweater, only to rub his hand on the back of his neck. “Um. Yeah.” He mused, clearing his throat.

“Yeah um. Yeah. I’ve been thinking and um.” Ryuji started to ramble, looking everywhere in the room but at Akira.

Akira furrowed his eyebrows, wondering to himself what this was all about. He had known Ryuji for a long time, and it is not a common sight to see him this nervous. But he knew better then to interrupt him, he would get to the point soon.

“Did you want to go out?” Ryuji blurted, his eyes wide.

Akira’s heart jumped to his throat, pounding hard. “Like to train? The gym might be open.” He had to be sure.

A strained chuckle came out of Ryuji. “No. Not like that. Don’t do this to me.” Akira had to be wearing his sweater. That made this so much harder.

“Like you have a crush on me, and you want to see where it goes?” If Ryuji had the strength to put himself out there, then so did he. Only someone like Ryuji could motivate him like this, but that didn’t make his heart stop from feeling like it could explode any second.

“Yeah! How’d you know?”

“Because that is how I feel too.”

“For real?!” Ryuji’s eyes shone bright with his question. He couldn’t believe it, he was so excited.

Akira could not hold in his excitement and wrapped his arms around Ryuji’s waist and pulled him close. Ryuji followed suit, sneaking his hands past the zipper so they laid underneath the sweater. Akira nuzzled his face into Ryuji’s shoulder, nothing could have made him happier to have his feelings reciprocated.

The two held their embrace for some time before separating. “Come on.” Ryuji placed his hand into Akira’s. “I have a plan.” He added, pulling him towards the door to LeBlanc.

Just then Futaba came walking through the door, the ring of the door announcing her presence. “You’re back early.” Futaba commented, her line of sight finding its way to their hands. “It’s about time. You two have been pinning for each other for forever. Nothing like a slow burn but come on.”

Akira glanced over to Ryuji; he knew that panicked look anywhere. But now he could do something about it. He gave Ryuji’s hand a squeeze. Ryuji made eye contact with Akira, but he still looked stressed. “Tell Sojiro I won’t be able to help in the shop today.”

“Sure thing love birds.” Futaba teased, as she let them pass.

____________

The hood of Ruyji’s sweater covered Akira’s head as he headed his way back into the Café. Ryuji pressed his forehead against Akira’s, humming softly. “I had a good time.”

“When did you get all mushy?” Akira smirked.

“Aw, come on, you can’t tell me you don’t wanna say this stuff too.” Ryuji immediately went on the defense.

“Fine. But don’t miss your train.” He mused.

“Ah Shit.” Ryuji pulled himself away from their embrace, already running towards the train station. Halfway down the block, Ryuji turned and yelled, “I’ll text you.” Before disappearing.

As if on cue, the moment Akira sat on his bed he received a text from Ryuji.

R: I can’t believe I have a boyfriend now.

R: Wait

R: Is it okay that I call you that?

R: What would it be instead of boyfriend?

A: What makes you think the date went that well?

R: You have got to be kidding me

R: What?!

A: I’m joking with you. You sure are adorable when you’re flustered.

R: I…

R: I honestly don’t know what to say to that.

A: Can I be Bae? I’ll be satisfied with the replacement.

R: I can’t believe I didn’t think of that sooner.

R: Bae it is. 

In the morning Akira didn’t even want to mess with dealing with the masses downstairs. He simply threw up the hood and snuck right out the front door. As planned the night before he met his boyfriend at the gym.

As expected, Akira made it to the gym before Ryuji did, so to not waste time he jumped onto a treadmill. Giving him plenty of time to think to himself. They both adjusted to this so quickly, was it really that easy?

“So, I was thinking we should do something for Christmas.” Ryuji jumped onto the treadmill next to Akira.

“We already are. Or did you forget the Phantom Thieves party?”

“I… Can you stop making me feel like an idiot?”

“The party is on Christmas Eve. We can celebrate alone Christmas Day.”

“I..” Ryuji stepped on the sides of the treadmill, watching the belt run on its own before looking over to Akira. “I don’t know what I would do without you to keep me calm man.”

Akira stopped his treadmill and reached over to Ryuji and rested his hand on top of his. Looking into his boyfriend’s eyes suddenly made him feel nervous. “Yeah.” Was all he managed to say, chickening out on what he was planning. It was too soon to say things like that. Just getting used to calling him a boyfriend in his head was enough for now.

“How is that fair.” Ryuji pulled his hands away, turning off his treadmill and jumping off. “Giving me chills like that.” He glanced at Akira’s lips for a moment, before shaking his head, the thoughts rattling away. “Come spot me.” He wrapped his hand gently around Akira’s wrist and gave his arm a tug.

 _______________

The next Eight days the two boys spent every day together. One day was a training day the next day was more of a date. Going back and forth each day. Ryuji finding more and more reasons to stare at Akira’s lips, but not doing anything about it. Akira not being able to shake the sweet words that touched his tongue but never made it past his lips.

The night came and Ryuji made his way to the train station. Yet the moment Akira made his way to his room he already pulled out his phone.

A: [ . . . ]

A: [ . . . ]

A: [ . . . ]

A: I miss you.

He finally typed. Send. His fingers were harder to control then his mouth. His chest felt tight as he waited for a response. He was probably getting on the train.

Or not.

R: Can you let me in.

R: I missed my train.

A: OMW

_________________

What was this weight on him? Oh. As Akira opened his eyes, he remembered the night before. Him and Ryuji talked until they fell asleep. Suddenly aware of his heartbeat as his boyfriend’s head laid on his chest. Calling him boyfriend was starting to feel a bit more right the more he looked at Ryuji so relaxed. A smile spread across his face as he rested back into his bed. Closing his eyes to the subtle snoring sounds coming from Ryuji. This was nice.

“Urrgg.” Ryuji groaned as he started to wake up. “Wher’ m’ I?” Looking more confused as he opened his eyes.

“The ultimate ambush.” Akira smirked, reaching over and ruffling Ryuji’s hair.

“Stop.” Ryuji pushed Akira’s hand away, “Is that how you treat your boyfriend?” he mumbled, still trying to find his full strength.

Akira gasped softly. He said it out loud. “This one, yes.” He mused.

There it was again, Ryuji’s eyesight flickering for just a moment. And again, Akira decided to ignore it. This time.

“Ah Crap.” Ryuji shouted, his limbs scrambling in order to get out of the bed. “I have…” Grabbing all of his things. “plans.” He finished his sentence out of breath.

“I’ll see you next week.” Akira said, handing Ryuji’s sweater back to him. “It’s cold, you’re going to need it.”

“Thanks bae.” Ryuji mused, the two brushing hands one last time.

 _______________

CHRISTMAS EVE

Haru and Makoto showed up first. Makoto brushed her hair behind her ear the moment they entered LeBlanc, as if hiding something. The two girls exchanged glances before placing their contribution onto one of the tables.

Ann appeared just as Akira made his way down the stairs.

“Oh hey.” Akira smiled at the crew that already arrived. “Who are we waiting for?”

And just then in came Yusuke and Ryuji came walking in through the door. Akira had to drag his gaze away from Ryuji to keep himself from staring. But it was hard, he was absolutely glowing.

“Hey man.” Ryuji approached Akira and gave him a hug, but considering their crowd he may have lingered a bit too long.

“What’s up losers?” Futaba entered the room.

The two boys broke their embrace, Ryuji rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

“Futaba!” Yusuke gasped. “I daresay, that was a bit rude.”

“Whatever Inari.” Futaba sneered.

Before a fight could break out the bell on the door rung one last time, Yoshizawa entering. “Sorry I’m late.” She mused.

“Dude, there’s nothing to be sorry about.” Ryuji chimed.

The Christmas party of the Phantom Thieves began after that. It didn’t take long for laughter to fill the air. The group talking, eating, even playing some Tycoon. Catching up again was what the group of friends needed. Occasionally Haru or Futaba would bother Morgana with some petting.  Haru and Makoto stealing glances just as much as Ryuji and Akira were. Nobody seemed to say anything about it until.

“Alright suckers, pay up.” Futaba said to the group.

“What really we won?” Makoto exclaimed.

“I would require proof before I pay up.” Yusuke looked over to Akira and Ryuji, who have been talking to each other in the corner. Sitting so close that if Ryuji leaned back slightly his shoulder would touch Akira’s.

“Look at them, is that not proof?” Futaba pointed to the two.

“No. I would have to agree with Yusuke.” Yoshizawa piped up.

Morgana hopped onto the table in front of the two. “Are you even paying attention?”

“What do you want cat?!” Ryuji growled.

Without thinking Akira reached over and grabbed Ryuji’s hand, giving it a squeeze. Ryuji looked over to Akira and sighed. “You’re right bae, we shouldn’t fight on Christmas.”

“Bae?!” Yoshizawa exclaimed.

“Is that even Ryuji?!” Yusuke shouted.

“He he he.” Futaba snickered.

“WHAAAAT?!” Went Ann.

“We got them guys.” Makoto said.

“Why don’t you just let these two be.” Haru chimed, but her voice was washed out by the rest of the shouting.

“What are you guys even on about?” Ryuji gritted his teeth, glaring at all his friends.

“I think they want to know if you’re my boyfriend.” Akira pointed out calmly, having now figured out what they were talking about.

“Of course I am!” Ryuji snapped in the moment, before he realized what he said. Looking at Akira with wide eyes. “Wait I… That’s not how I wanted this to go.”

“Their turn to ambush us.” Akira teased, only loud enough for Ryuji to hear.

Ryuji laughed. “Stop. You’re cute.”

“Gasp. I’m cute?” Akira feigned surprise.

The crew ignored the couple for a moment as they passed around money. Makoto, Morgana, Futaba giddy with excitement. Haru sighed, she didn’t see the point in betting on their friends. The rest groaned as their pockets were emptied.

The group of friends went to normal after that. They continued to laugh and eat and enjoy each other’s company. And one by one they all left so to not miss the last train out to their individual homes. Even Ryuji saying his goodbye. For they will meet up again tomorrow. Akira started to clean up the café in order to pass the time.

“Wait you’re gay?” Sojiro asked, leaning over the counter.

“Heh.” Akira chuckled, now is when he decided to ask? “And you’re surprised?”

“I guess not. You got me there.” Sojiro headed for the door. “As long as you’re happy kid. Don’t forget to lock up.”

________________

CHRISTMAS DAY

Nothing huge really happened. Ryuji came over, they exchanged gifts. And the couple talked and cuddled. It was a really quiet day. If anything, it was relaxing.

“When are you going back?” Akira asked.

Ryuji looked up from his phone, “Three days, why?”

“I’m going to miss you.” Akira cooed.

“Oh. Um. Well, you have me now.” Ryuji struggled to know what to say. He sat down on the bed next to Akira. Moments later his eyeline flickered once more.

Akira was sick of ignoring it. Leaning forward and cupping Ryuji’s face in his hand. “Once a phantom thief always a phantom thief.” Akira said, shaking his head without breaking eye contact with his boyfriend.

Ryuji scrunched his face in confusion, “What do ya mean?”

Akira stopped second guessing and pressed forward, his lips meeting the other’s. Ryuji gasped, yet he did not pull away. Eventually his clumsy ways smoothed out as he returned the kiss.

Pulling back softly the boys pressed their foreheads against each other, in a moment of pure bliss. “You can steal my heart any day.” Akira finally answered. Not afraid to speak his mind any longer.

Ryuji chuckled as it was his turn to take the leap, placing a new kiss onto Akira’s lips.

[philliamwrites]

i could make you need me all the time (pt.2)

Fandom: Persona 5

Pairing: Akira/Akechi

Tags: #justice rank 8 spoilers, #slight angst, #persona 5 royal spoilers, #new semester spoilers

Words: 3.4k

Summary: Akechi is counting numbered days, preparing himself for the end. Akira being himself doesn't help.

Note: Part 2 | Inspired by ‘Make it Holy’ by The Staves.

i could make you need me all the time

    Lavenza is not what Akechi has expected. Not that he’s expected anything specific in the first place, but a little child with golden eyes, staring at him with such an intense gaze that he is the one looking away first, is new. Akira being too prying for his own good is nothing new though. He stays after everyone leaves the nurse’s room, leaning against a white wall between two areca palms while watching Akechi on his quest to find band-aids he doesn’t even need.

    Nothing and everything changed after Christmas Eve.

    They aren’t fooling around in Save Rooms anymore. No one buys their ‘Forgot something and have to go back’-trick because no one leaves Akira and him alone for even a second. Akira thinks it’s rude. Akechi doesn’t really care. If possible, he doesn’t want to see him at all.

    “My sports uniform looks good on you,” Akira says. There’s a slight tilt to his voice Akechi’s heart always responds to with a little jolt—the eradicated-the-enemy-fashionably-tilt, the-I’m-your-rival-don’t-get-too-cocky-tilt, the post-orgasm-satisfied-tilt. Where once adrenaline shot through his body, only electricity remains that paralyses him.

    It’s the first time his body simply shuts down instead of running or fighting, effectively betraying him.

    Avoiding Akira is like trying to run away from a bee while wearing cologne that smells of pansies. It isn’t too evident in Maruki’s palace. Any slip-up means potentionally risking all their lives, so Akira approaches him for obligations only. Healing, consultation, strategy. Akechi lets him, always catching him staring at his ass though.

    Everything gets trickier when they’re in the real world. There’s only so long Akechi can hide in his cold one-room apartment, emptied by Shido’s henchmen at some point during his disappearance in December, before a phone call or message summons him to meet with the rest. He does want to defeat Maruki. He does not want to achieve it by pretending to be friends.

    “If you have time to simply stand there, why not use it to plan our next infiltration?” Akechi asks without looking back, pretending that rummaging through the cupboards requires his whole attention. He’s a man on a mission, adamant that if he only ignores Akira long enough, he’ll just lose interest like a child growing bored with their toys.

    He underestimates him.

    Again.

    “Morgana and the rest have that covered.” Footsteps draw closer. Akechi’s body tenses into one hard, solid muscle. “I’m here because there’s something we need to talk about.”

    “Is that so?” Akechi closes a cabinet door with a loud bang, marching to the other side of the room. “Because I have nothing to say to you.”

    There are million things he wants, maybe needs to say, but simply thinking about them closes Akechi’s throat off, choking him with this bitter taste of rotten glory and ruined dreams. He’d rather die than allow this weakness to take hold of him.

    “Akechi.”

    He ignores him, rummaging through a drawer that’s crammed full of snacks. No band-aids. He hates this place.

    “Akechi.”

    Dull pain throbs at the back of his head. He tells Robin Hood to make Loki stop, but silence in return reminds him that since the boiler room, Robin has been gone. It’s easy to forget that sometimes. It isn’t as easy falling asleep again after waking from a nightmare where he hears Robin’s atrocious screams still ringing in his head.

    He tears through the next drawer, refusing to think about anything else except band-aids, band-aids, band-aids, what shitty nurse room doesn’t have band-aids—

    “Goro.”

    Akira is so close; he feels his warm breath on the back of his neck.

    Fight, flight or stay to be devoured. Akechi barely turns his head, eyes creeping up slowly to Akira’s face. Being this close was never a problem before—Akechi has had enough time to count every single lash, black as spilt ink, cursing them curling like crescent moons and throwing long shadows over high, winged cheekbones he can draw with closed eyes on paper. This face is as familiar as his own. He’s seen it angry, laughing, frowning; wearing a wicked, cruel smile, contort in hot, all-consuming pleasure: slightly open mouth with pink, swollen lips, blushing, hot cheeks. Dead, empty eyes. Red, thick blood between slanted eyebrows.

    In his nightmares, Akechi hears Robin’s scared screams in the boiler room, and sees Akira’s slack face slam on the prosecutor’s desk.

    No. There really is nothing to say.

    “Goro?” Akira’s voice is barely a whisper. “You’re shaking.”

    If there is a time for his body to betray him, it isn’t now. Akechi turns away, his mission forgotten. Right now, he needs to get as far away from here as possible. Akechi never feared his mistakes to catch up to him some day, but Akira, alive and kicking Akira, proves him wrong over and over again. “If there’s nothing else, it’s time for me to go,” he says.

    He shoves Akira out of his way, quickly pulling his hand back as if burnt by this simple touch. He manages to cross the room halfway before Akira’s voice makes him stop.

    “Were you looking for this?”

    He turns around. Akira is holding a partially opened package of band-aids, presenting them like bait to prey that doesn’t know any better. Akechi wants to bare his teeth.

    “I’m not here to play games,” he hisses, stomping towards Akira who beelines towards him as well, approaching Akechi too fast. Two feet until they crash like stars and swallow everything. One foot until they collide like cars and explode into tiny, burning pieces. Before they set the room in flames, Akira halts.

    “Good,” he says and takes Akechi’s wrist—far gentler than he’d expected or liked, and leads him to the sitting area near the door where he can see the exit so close and yet so far. “Because I’m not playing.”

    Akechi clicks his tongue.

    He drops begrudgingly into an armchair, folding one leg over the other and crossing his arms. Akira knees down in front of him, just a few inches away from his legs. It reminds Akechi of a similar image several months ago, only he was still acting for an audience that never cared about him in the first place, and Akira was wearing a tight, black latex cop uniform.

    Only one of those things makes him want to go back to that time.

    “Let me,” Akira says, holding out one hand to Akechi like a knight asking for allowance to kiss his maiden’s fair hand.

    “I’m not a little kid,” Akechi hisses but it lacks its usual venom. Akira doesn’t pressure. Wordlessly, he waits, the inside of his palm lying open, vulnerable.

    Akechi stares daggers at it, hoping it will simply disappear. When the result disappoints, he takes the easy route and slaps his hand in Akira’s. “Just hurry up.”

    Akira hums. He’s inspecting Akechi’s hand, searching for the injury like a scientist looking for the answer of the afterlife. His hold is light like a feather, careful and hesitant, as if the universe granted him the honour to look after a priceless treasure that builds kingdoms and burns countries.

    “Where do you need it?”

    “I can do it on my own.”

    “Oh, I don’t doubt your abilities.” Fumbling with the bandage, Akira pulls his eyebrows together in concentration, a little smile flirting with his lips. Akechi knows it, the everything-is-a-game-to-me-smile but this time stakes are too high for him to join. “But humour me. Now, where do I put it on?”

    He glares at him. Seeing no way to win, he turns his hand, his palm fitting perfectly against Akira’s, showing the little, shallow cut on one finger.

    Akira stares at it, very unimpressed. “Are you an actual child?”

    Akechi pulls his hand away—too slow. Akira’s fingers latch around his wrist, holding him in place. “Wait, wait, I’m joking.”

    “You’re not funny,” Akechi replies drily. He watches Akira put a bandage around his finger, smoothing it out with his thumb.

    “This…” He digs his thumb slightly where the wound is, making it burn but Akechi doesn’t flinch. “… looks like a ring, doesn’t it?”

    Akechi raises one eyebrow. “It doesn’t.”

    “Like a wedding ring,” Akira continues as if he didn’t say anything. Akechi looks down at the band-aid around his ring finger. He feels too awake all of a sudden, yet extremely tired. Everything buzzes, from his head to his toes, and he can’t tell if it’s Maruki’s Actualized Happy World or Akira touching him or the fact that he should not be. He remains very still, like a corpse, and stares over Akira’s curly mop of hair at the mirror hanging at the opposite end of the room. Brown eyes stare back at him—unflinching, lifeless like the glassy eyes of a dead fish until he blinks and it’s just his normal, usual face.

    “Don’t tell me you’re entertaining the absurd idea of marriage,” he mocks, a crooked smile cutting his mouth into two red lines. “What are you, a lonely housewife in her thirties?”

    “What can I say, I’m a romantic at heart,” Akira answers. He isn’t smiling.

    Akechi’s grin dies. “If you have time to think about something this foolish, then there will be no problem in securing the path to the treasure tomorrow, right?” His voice sounds weird to his own ears. He feels sick.

    Finally, his hand is set free as Akira places it carefully on Akechi’s knee.

    “You’re smart enough to figure out where I’m going with this conversation,” Akira says, rising to his feet. He seems a little absent minded, his eyes unfocused and thoughts far away from this room. “Think about my proposal.”

    “Propo—” Akechi jumps to his feet, his ears buzzing with a swarm of angry bees. He’s so close to Akira, their chest almost touch. He smells it again: coffee, washing powder, sweat. No blood this time. It feels wrong. “I have no interest in entertaining this stupid idea.”

    “Do you hate it because it’s a social construct and divorce is way too expensive,” Akira asks, his eyes snapping back to Akechi and focusing with too much determination in them on him. “Or is it the thought of living with someone that allows you to be vulnerable that scares you.”

I’m not scared of anything, Akechi wants to say. What comes out instead is, “Why did you ask if you know the answer already?”

“Because I want to hear it from you. I want to know what you want.”

    What does Goro Akechi want? No one has asked him this before, so he’s taken aback a second, speechless. A lump grows in his throat, burning every time he swallows.

    “I don’t want someone else to decide how I live my life,” he says eventually. Slowly, word for word so Akira understands that what makes Goro Akechi the person he is, is something he was never allowed to have in the first place and the crave for it now is like craving air underwater. “I don’t want to be someone’s puppet.”

    Akira’s voice grows louder. “Then what do you want?”

    Akechi’s body shudders with rage. I want to live.

    He turns around, blinking furiously against the burning in his eyes. “We’re done talking. You can contact me if there are important things we need to discuss. That’s what I want.”

    There is no answer, but he knows he’s got his point across. Some people take Akira’s silence for what it is, when sometimes it speaks louder than his words. Right now, he feels it like a solid pressure against his skin, leaving dents and reshaping his body and he’s afraid to turn around and look in the mirror again.

    Marriage.

    Marriage with Akira Kurusu of all people.

    What an absolutely stupid, horrendous idea. What a horrifying dream and scary hope to plant into someone whose soil is home to maggots and vermin that only know the taste of blood. Akechi takes that seed and hides it somewhere deep, deep inside his chest where the dirt hasn’t reached; an almost forgotten place that still loves toy guns and collects Phoenix Ranger Featherman stickers to put them on his bento lunch box.

    That is the only part of himself he wishes Akira could get to know before the end as well.

[jira-chii]

Klein Record Akira

Nostalgia are interested in the Klein Record and its ability to connect to the past. Fujie hints it might even be able to connect to the past of another world. When Yuki and Takuya try to stop them, the machine goes haywire. Akira saves Yuki but in the process falls into the Klein Record. What emerges is a younger Akira with levels of regret and anger that Yuki has never seen in him before. 

Peering into his thoughts, we see flashbacks of the days when Yuki’s mother, Mifuyu was still alive, and the family of four lived happily together. Guarding the researcher Daichi’s family was Akira’s first job as an SP, and he took it seriously. But the kind Mifuyu invited him into their home, and the family treated him as one of their own.

An even earlier flashback shows a conversation between Akira and Kengo in their final year of high school. After graduation Akira plans to go straight into the police force. Kengo notes that though his friend often gets into fights, it was always to protect someone else, Kengo being the first person he saved. 

However, Akira's days of peace and happiness with Yuki's family are shattered one day when Mifuyu is kidnapped by a group after Daichi's research. Akira storms their base, but is unable to save her. 

The incident was treated as an accident. Souma, who was only two at the time, would not have even understood the full extent of the tragedy. However Akira, overcome by guilt and self loathing, could not bear to look at their faces. He was unable to save Mifuyu, and even let the kidnappers get away. He failed his mission in every way possible. He was a powerless man who could do nothing.

Present Yuki is curious about this "Souma" we see in Akira's memories. She also recalls Kotone's distress when Yuki claimed she did not have a younger brother.

"How could you lie and say you don't know Souma?"

One day, he finds out the kidnappers are on the move again. Akira is almost too keen to face them once more

The kidnappers are told to go after Yuki and Souma this time. They wonder just how important Daichi’s research is, for the same organisation to request their services again. Before they can do anything though, Akira crashes his car into his base and mercilessly begins shooting. 

Continuing Akira's flashback, Yuki and Souma grew up and overcame the incident, but Akira continued to train in secret, to fulfill a certain purpose.

"Shut up. I have two requests. 1, Surrender immediately. And 2, Tell me everything about the organisation that hired you."

But even the wrath of a vengeful SP is not enough to get the kidnappers to spill. They fear the organisation more than death itself. Akira will never win against them, he won't be able to protect Yuki and Souma from meeting the same fate as their mother. 

Akira, infuriated, tells them to “disappear”.

As Yuki senses these emotions from Akira, she is distraught. Akira had been fighting silently by himself all this time. His hatred is consuming him, it's like he is turning into another person. She pleads for him to come back, but her voice does not reach him.

Suddenly Takuya yells at Akira.

"Akira!! Stop right now! What do you think that gun is for? For killing everyone in your way? No! It's for protecting Yuki! It's for making Yuki happy! I don't remember this being the man I look up to.”

Note that Takuya is speaking in a very brash, rude yet unnaturally intimate and passionate way. Basically, he's speaking out of character, and this causes Yuki to be surprised too. 

After beating him, Akira remembers the warmth of Yuki and Souma’s hands at the funeral. He admits he ran away from them. Into regret, and anger, and vengeance. But then, Mifuyu's last words surface in his mind. 

 "Takuya? What are you saying..."

But his words work and Akira reacts. The two of them take him down together.

"You are already part of our family. So please, as their big brother, please protect them, so they can be happy together."

Remembering the last promise he made to Mifuyu, Akira is able to look forward with resolve. 

"I will definitely protect her last wish."

Akira’s bullet misses the kidnapper. Because he has remembered the reason he fights, and it is not to kill.

Kidnapper dude says he will regret his naivety, but Akira assures him that no matter the enemy, he will protect them with all his strength.

Akira’s emotions stabilise and he returns to his former self. Yuki's concerns are laid to rest and Takuya also returns to normal. 

Yuki thinks back on what Takuya said. What a surprise that Takuya had thought of Akira in that way!

Takuya isnt sure why he suddenly shouted those things either. He gets a little embarrassed and tells her to forget immediately. 

Yuki then reflects on this “Souma” she keeps hearing about. 

"Souma, the person who seems to be my little brother, will i know more about you once I reach the ice pillar?" (obvious spoiler: yes)

"Someone like you who was so precious to Akira, must not be such a bad kid."

Spoilery thoughts

I think when any quest explores Souma's character I am definitely going to be biased, but I really think this was a well-written Klein record episode which utilised everything we have learned about these characters up to this point. 

The skillful interweaving of parallel world interactions was especially noteworthy. World 2 Yuki never really registers this is World 1 Akira, focusing instead on Souma who keeps getting mentioned. This is justified because Kotone had previously brought up the same thing, causing Yuki to be genuinely curious. A lot of things are left unexplained to Yuki, such as Takuya's sudden character change, and this works better because that's classic dramatic irony done right.

It also allows us to focus on the more interesting things. Namely, Akira and Souma. It is unsurprising but nevertheless nice to know the extent that Akira cares about protecting Daichi's family. Part of it is that sense of justice he's always felt since his student days, but the quest does also suggest he genuinely loves the family, and wants to become the big brother figure Mifuyu also desired. 

What I found really clever was that this quest was able to hint at so many things about Souma without anyone actually meeting him. 

The scene where Takuya yells at Akira as Souma is pivotal and I love everything about it. From Yuki acting surprised to hint that something is off about his behaviour, to it actually working, showing how deeply connected Akira is to both Yuki and Souma. You also get to hear some of Souma's true feelings during 'Takuya's' passionate outburst, adding another layer of meaning for those familiar with the story past World 2.

Everything about this quest was positioned just perfectly, such as Akira being from World 1, with 'Takuya' and Yuki from World 2. You actually would not be able to have this interaction happen in any other scenario. 

The cherry on top is Yuki's reflection on this Souma she has never met. She says to have Akira care for him so much means Souma must not be such a bad guy. 

There's another double layer of meaning here, because in World 2 Souma is, in fact, the 'bad guy', but in World in the Sky he repents for his actions and feels genuinely guilty. Ironically, this Yuki is able to see the most genuine version of Souma, because she has never had any prior interaction with him. Yet at the same time, you could also say that this Yuki has been working together with Souma the longest. These complex world-transcending character interactions are the crux of what made me fall in love with this game and I am so happy that five years on, they're still doing it. 

[deviant404angel]

His and Hers: A Dance in the Vampire Bun Fic Part 4

“Hoo?” Mina was fascinated and she didn’t even know she was carrying his scent already. It will be faint for others but for wolves and other weres and possibly vampires who paid enough attention, they will smell it on her. “How does this smell transference happen? If they–"she blushed. Oh crap.

"Hime-san, what did you want to talk to me about? We can go outside for it. The guys here smells like sweat, I want to smeel the fresh air outside. Shall we go?” He attempted to divert her attention.

To no avail.

“Akira, this is interesting. I would want to know more about this werewolves culture.” She turned to Leo again. “So? Pray tell.”

“It’s actually pretty simple.” Leo grinned. “He just have to bite her somewhere, anywhere at all. ”

“Really? There are no other conditions?”

“There is. He must bring her to come during the, ” refusing to speak anything rude to her highness, Leo refrained fron saying sex instead, “when they do the deed and strike.”

“Ahh. I see… ” Then she blushed tomato red.

Oh f*ck. Everyone’s eyes turned on me. That’s it.

“Let’s go, Hime-san.” She didn’t even protested when I grabbed her wrists and dragges her out of the room.

With my hearing senses, I heard their laughter. “Man! That was a long time coming! Seriously, I bet her highness started everything before that lone wolf made his move. He just couldn’t win against her highness.”

“Man! I wanna get laid too!”

“Our highness is already a grown up.” Was that a sob he heard?

When finally they were away from the crowd he released the princess. It was suddenly awkard. He scratched the tip of his nose. “Hime-san… ”

It was a moment before she turned to him. “W-what were they talking about?”

He almost smiled at her innocence. “It’s a biological thing. Like a marking. Because bite marks fade, the wolves ensures their territories by marking their mates with their scent. But it never works with a vampire before because of biological incompatibility. But since the change, we’re already linked so your DNA recognizes mine and vice versa.”

“S-so. I’ll be wearing your marking always? It will never fade?” She blushed crimson it was adorable.

“In this instance, it will. In a few days. ” He could almost hear her next question and prepared himself to answer.

“What!? Why!? ” She sounded scandalized at the idea and he almost laughed. But therein also lies the problem. Because she will never be his.

He looked at her eyes, so beautiful. “Because the marking is incomplete. It will never be permanent if I don’t do it again.”

“What? But you bit me when I- when I… ” she trailed.

“Hime-san… ” his eyes caught on the mark he left on her neck. It still hasn’t healed yet. Not completely. And everything came flashing back with intensity it almost knocked him on his knees.

Ah f*ck. If this is how she always affects him, it’ll be his death one day. That is if ever he dies.

He wanted to mark her again. The scent is still strong but given a few more days it will slowly fade if he doesn’t do something about it. His terriotial instincts kicked in and he caged her in locking her back to the wall. They were on the rooftop enjoying the high wind breeze. He’s been avoiding being alone with her for a time now for fear he might finally lose his mind. It was a reprieve she fell asleep on him or else he would have taken her then and there regardless of consequences. But now that she’s here, the wolf in him jumped happily at the idea of her wearing his scent now and forever.

“Akira?”

“You wanna know how to make it permanent, Hime-san?” Her scent is crowding him making it hard to think rationally. He wanted to take her it was a magnetic pull he couldn’t control. It had always been there simmering in the surface but now it was too overwhelming it threatened to make him lose his damn mind unless he claims her.

And not just any claiming.

Claim her like a werewolf does.

Almost like a vampire, he tugged at her collar to bare her neck to him. His mark was still there. He brought his lips closer and kissed her neck then licked.

“Aki-”

He balled his hands to fists and pulled himself away.

“To answer your question, that was just half-marking. The marking take full effect only when I’m so deep inside you, you’d feel me everywhere, and as you come on me, squeezing me tight, I’d bite you, mark you. It’s not pretty, it’s not romantic. It’s messy and painful. We have bigger canines to sink into your flesh. I could tear you part with it. ”

Then Mina understood why he was avoiding her.

“Akira.” She touched his face gently. “You would never hurt me.” She tiptoed because even if she’d grown he was still taller, and pressed her lips to his tight ones

The poor boy was afraid he’d lose control and tear her to pieces. He could come up with excuses that he’s bounded by duty, that she’s a vampire and he’s a werewolf and they never should be and could be. But all of those failed in comparison to his self-doubt that he would hurt her. Mina knows of the tradition of the werewolf when they meet their partners and mate them.

She had talked to Akira’s mother and saw first hand what werewolf mating could do to a human woman. But she was a vampire more flexible than any human. Besides, it wasn’t that Akira’s mother hated Wolf. She never notices it but she speaks fondly of him and misses him. Except Wolf who had seen what happened to his wife and could not bear to come near her and be with her again. Wolf is sometimes like Akira, more so than he could ever imagine.

She pulled away. “Who is there to stop us? I want to be yours, Akira. Forever.” She brought his forehead to hears.

She could see that he was still battling with himself so she let the matter pass but without any teasing. She let him go and reached for the door before looking back and saying, “if ever you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

***

Akira saw his father while was walking aimlessly in the castle. He was talking to someone on the phone, alone ina dimly lit corridor.A woman’s voice? No, not just anyone. His mother.

There was a longing in his mother’s voice and his father’s voice was tight as if holding himself back. He’d never seen his father that way. He also had an expression he’d never seen. They were talking about Yuuhi and him but it’s like they aren’t. Like they were reaching but to what he wasn’t sure. He stood there until his father hang up the phone.

That’s when Wolf noticed him and Akira found out his father could also be focused on one thing he forgets everything else. He hadn’t noticed that before. Granted, he refused to notice his father because of what he did to his mother but he may have been looking at it at a wrong angle.

Wolf broke the silence first going back to his stoic expression. “Your mother misses you. You should visit her if you have time.” That’s all and Wolf passed him by.

He stopped without turning, he asked. “Do you regret marrying mother?”

Wolf didn’t answer immediately. “Why would I? Your mother is not someone I would regret.”

Akita turned harshly thinking of his mother in a wheelchair. “Even if she’s like that!? ”

“Akira! Don’t talk about your mother like that. She is a brave woman who gave birth to Yuuhi and You and never regretted it. Do not belittle her.” Wolf’s voice rang in the hallway.

Then Wolf walked away.

Shit. His emotions were everywhere. He needed to breathe. Or maybe not.

His phone rang and saw that it was his mother calling him. Just what did his father and mother talked about?

“Hey, mom.” He lightened his tone.

“Akira?” She sounded cheerful. “I heard about you and Mina-hime.” Oh.

He blushed. “Well about that… ”

“You should bring her home sometime. I miss that dear girl. I’ve always wanted you two together even before this change though before would have been a little bit difficult. But now seems fine. Anyways, you’re bonded by blood. If that doesn’t sound romantic then maybe its thaf your scent is all over her? ” His mother laughed.

“Mom, seriously.” He blushed and scrubbed his face the went outside for some air.

“I figured you’d be having trouble. You’ve always loved her but she’s always far away so now that she’s within reach it probably seems surreal. ” His mom chuckled. Yeah that’s about right.

“I feel like, if I get my hands on her, she’ll disappear. ” He admitted.

“Hmm. I know what you mean.” She chuckled.

“Mom…why’d you marry dad?” He breathed.

“What kind of question is that? Isn’t it obvious? Akira, I’m Japanese, not anywhere near a clan to be married to your father. Why do you think I married him? And why do you think I’m staying?”

“Well, because dad doesn’t allow you to? Werewolves are proud so they wouldn’t want their wives to leave them even when the marriage is failing.” He reasoned.

“Well, that too. ” She chuckled. “But who says our marriage is failing? Wolf is not the type to be open to people but I know him. I’m sure you do, too. Besides, he gave me Yuuhi and you, my two werewolf babies. Did you know I had a hard time chasing your dad? Why would I let him go now? I’m bound to a wheelchair but I haven’t lost my mind. I’m keeping my Wolf. ”

“You did? ” That was a surprise to Akira. When he was old enough at seven he left home so he could serve Hime-san and so that he couldn’t see his mother that way after giving birth to Yuuhi. He never asked.

“It was hard. Our relationship weren’t always smooth especially when I learned what he was but in the end I decided that he’s the one so I grabbed him with my invisible claws. Not one relationship is easy sailing, Akira. But if there’s love and trust, and acceptance and you work together, there’s no mountain too high, no ocean too deep, oh I think this is a song.” His mom laughed.

“Geez mom.” He scratched his head.

“What are you waiting for? I don’t regret a single thing, Akira. Everything is just as I want them to be.” Her voice was gentle. “Why don’t you ask your heart what you really want?”

Akira started at the words spoken by his mother, it was almost the same words spoken to him by his father once. And he resigned his case.

“Haha. You sounded like dad.”

“Really? I need to ask him for copyright fee.”

“How are you,mom?”

***

Akira didn’t bother knocking on the chamber of Mina. He knows she’s asleep based on her breathing pattern. She was giving him space. He sat down by her side and looked at her.

It was getting harder and harder to tear himself away from her. He’s not sure he even wants to.

[no-mo-rules]

Can I request headcanons of Akira's s.o. at first being untrusting of him because of his records but later on warms up to him? Thank you! I really love your writing

*Thank you

Day 1:

We had a new kid today.

He sat in the chair to the left of mine. There was nothing outwardly scary about him at first, really: black hair, tall, wide-rimmed glasses, kind of on the lanky side; introduced himself to the classby saying ‘nice to meet you’ in a cute and demure way. Everything you’dexpect from a normal transfer student.

Suppose I shouldn’t have judged a book by its cover though,because there had been rumours floating about him left and right.

Even before I first saw his face today, people had told me that he was in the middle of probation after a short sentence in prison, and thathe was infamous in his old school for being kind of a troublemaker. I knew for afact he had a criminal record, because Mr Kamoshida told everyone in his P.E classto watch out for him, (‘girls especially,’ he said, looking at a few of us inturn, ‘should do everything to avoid being alone with him,’) so I was kind of inclinedto believe the rest. 

Missed the first two lessons on the first day, too. Kawakamitold us he was ill, but I thought that was bullshit.

Day 3:

He still hadn’t received any of his own books by today. 

Kawakami had been telling me tolet him use mine so far, but honestly I was starting to get kind of annoyed with it. Notnecessarily because I thought he’d try anything in class, but because I kept thinking that the less contact I had with him, the better. Don’t really want to be involved with people like him; it’s best to stay out of their business. 

Day 4:

Today, he caught me staring at him. To be frank, I just didn’t feel safe when he was out of my line of sight, so I’d actually been staring at him a whole lot. It was probably inevitable that he would catch me eventually.

Immediately, I looked down and didn’t look at him for the rest of the lesson. Honestly sprinted out of that class when it was done and didn’t lookback, cause I was convinced he wasgonna confront me about it. You can probably imagine I nearly shat myselfwhen he ran out after me and tapped me on the shoulder. Totally thought thatwas the end; like amen, you did good in this life, thanks for coming everyone.But he just looked at me in a kind of awkward way with his hand in his pocketand gave me my book back after telling me I left it behind.

My heart was still hammering in my throat, so I apologisedand just grabbed it off him before running off again. Kind of felt like anidiot though. He was just being nice.

Day 7:

Positive I heard cat noises coming from beneath his desktoday. I looked at the guy that sat behind him to make sure I wasn’t imagining things, but he just shrugged.

Day 10:

I knew it! He totally had a cat in his desk! 

I saw it jump into his bag as he was leaving the lesson, and then its tail popped out for a second. I imagine no-one has snitched on it yet because they’re afraid of him.

Day 11:

Me and a friend met in the library for a study session. A couple minutes in, the transfer student came. Literally as soon as he appeared, the room erupted into gossip; every single conversation turned to him. My friendtried to get us to leave cause she was scared, but I just went back to studying and told her she was being stupid. I think I kind of started to feel bad for him. 

Realistically, I know he probablydid something in his old school to get a criminal record, but it’s hardly fair to leave him out of a second chance, especially with how ridiculous some of these rumours are getting. I mean, kill streak? Really? In what world would a serial killer be allowed to attend school like a regular student?

Day 20:

He hasn’t answered a single question in class incorrectly so far. I haven’t seen him in the library for a while, though. 

I wonder where he studies.

Day 23:

Today marked the first rain I’d seen for three weeks. Rudely started out of nowhere in class, while I was totally unprepared; no umbrella or anything. After school, I popped down to the diner for a coffee, cause I didn’t feel like walking home in therain, and I saw the transfer kid studying in the corner alone. 

Kind of wanted to say hi, but his criminal record scared me off. Besides, I didn’t really want to ignore Kamoshida’s advice. The kid seemed fine in school, but he might have acted differently had there been no teachers to keep an eye on him. Instead, I just got some coffee and left as soon as the rain let up.

Day 24:

My classmates kept talking about him right in front of his face. I’m positive he heard, but he just kept his head down. 

I haven’t even seen him touch a single personsince he came here.

Day 28:

The past few days, the history teacher has made it a point to keep asking the transfer student increasingly ridiculous questions until he gets onewrong. Today, I saw this really dumb, smug look on his face after he finally pressed a wrong answer out of him. Had the balls to tell him to study more, too.

I got so annoyed with him that I turned to the student and said there were other people in the class as well. The teacher musthave been eavesdropping though, cause I got told to stand outside and had tosee the principal after school. The transfer kid looked kind of surprised. 

Kind of got the vibe he wasn’t used to having people stand up for him.

Day 29:

Got caught in the rain today. Really wouldn’t mind normally,but I had a Yakisoba pan in my bag and I didn’t want it to get soggy. I waitedunder the school roof for like half an hour doing absolutely nothing at all,until transfer kid walked out with an umbrella. I must have been eyeing it alittle funny (to be honest, I was just angry I hadn’t packed mine again sincethe last time it rained) cause he turned to me and offered his.

I was kind of shell-shocked, so I just said no. He asked me if I was sure, and when I said I was, he just smiled and told me not to get sick before leaving.

By God, his smile was cute.

Day 31:

I got sick. He was right; I should have taken that umbrella.

Day 32:

Everyone avoided me today cause I kept sneezing in class. I think they’re all bitch-ass losers afraid of a cold, but whatever.

Day 33:

My parents called in sick for me so I could study in the diner instead. It was a super dreary day, and I knew for a fact I was gonna get caught out in the middle of the rain again, but I just kind of accepted it this time. I was already ill so I didn’t really care.

Roughly after school time, the place filled up with other students. I was safe for a little while, cause no one wanted to sit next to the girl that kept sniffling. At least until the transfer kid came in. There weren’t any spare spaces apart from the ones opposite me, and I kind of felt bad cause I knew for a fact I’d taken his spot. When he looked over in my direction, it seemed like he was gonna decide to just leave and give up on studying in the cafe, but when I smiled and waved at him he changed his mind and sat down.

Looked a little surprised, but I think he was glad. Seemed like he didn’t want to sit next to me in case I found him scary or something.

We had a short conversation about schoolwork, and I got a coughing fit somewhere in the middle. To his credit, he didn’t look disgusted or anything, (even asked if I was alright,) but I still felt a bit embarrassed, so I asked him if he had any reservations sitting next to the sick girl. He just laughed and asked if I had any reservations sitting next to the delinquent. I think we shared a bit of a moment.

Found out his name, too.

Day 34:

Today the history teacher was being even more of an ass to Akira. Getting sent out again would have been kind of a pain, so I just googled the answers and whispered them to him until the teacher got bored and picked on someone else. He looked really grateful for it.

Day 36:

The diner was full today when I tried to go. Looking up ‘study cafes’ brought me to this cute little one in Yongen-Jaya called ‘Leblanc.’ The owner seemed kind of crabby, but it was quiet and I managed to get a lot of work done, so I think I’ll be coming back.

Day 39:

I was the only person in Leblanc for almost the entire day. It was so peaceful, I think I dozed off, cause I solved a couple of maths equations and next thing I knew it was almost seven in the evening. The owner looked kind of embarrassed, too, like felt bad about not having the heart to wake me up.

I was getting ready to pack up when the bell rang and someone else walked in. Thought it was kind of weird that a customer would be coming in at that time, cause I was pretty sure the cafe was supposed to be closing in like ten minutes. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be Akira, still in his school uniform, iconic black and white cat in his bag and everything.

In a weird way, it was kind of nice to see him. I hadn’t talked to him since the start of the week, and it was kind of a shame after that little moment we shared in the diner. He seemed happy to see me too, cause he smiled when I waved at him. The cute grin disappeared when owner of the cafe approached him and whispered something in his ear, though.

Akira replied in a really hushed tone, but I could still lip-read something along the lines of: ‘wrong idea’, and ‘just a friend,’ before the owner gave him a sly smile and announced he was closing up shop early. He asked me if I wanted to stay for a bit longer, and I didn’t really, but I felt rude leaving when he was offering. I ended up saying I would prefer to study for a bit longer if it was alright, and he said that it was no problem, and that Akira would lock the door when I was ready to leave.

I knew he could tell that I looked unsure, so I think the next thing he said was to reassure me. “Akira over here lives in the attic and helps me out sometimes,” he said, hanging the keys to him. “He’s more reliable than he seems though, so don’t worry.”

Nice guy, really. Shame he was kind of grumpy to his other customers.

Akira seemed kind of awkward when we were left alone. It made me feel like maybe it was because I was half-invading his home without proper acquaintance; this was kind of his door-way, after all, and I was staying way past my welcome. When I thought about it later, I was positive the owner only let me stay because he thought I was waiting for Akira the whole time.

It was up to me to break the silence then, and although I thought about asking him to show me round the attic, I decided against it. It was his room, after all, and asking to see a guy’s room so late in the evening would have sent all kinds of messages. So I asked him about his life in school instead, and ended up feeling super bad. Literally never seen a smile that was so shattered. He just rubbed the back of his head and said “yeah, it’s been rough.”

Got so annoyed at everyone. In that moment, I didn’t give single crap about what he’d done in his past. I just wanted to tell everyone in school to lay off and give him a break.

Maybe it was kind of stepping out of line a little, but I told him that if anyone was ever giving him shit, he should come to me and I would stand up for him. 

Over time, he opened up a little about his criminal record. He told me the full story of the apparent ‘assault’, and it honestly just made me furious. I was angry at everyone who was talking about him behind his back, angry at everyone who was blowing the rumours up, angry at Mr Kamoshida for making things seem more dire than they were. Angry at myself, too, for believing in that bullshit. I told him I was gonna go out of my way to correct people if I ever heard them talk, and he just shrugged and told me he was used to it and that I shouldn’t worry or I could be dragged down with him.

Right, as if I was just gonna take that. Next person who talks shit gets a lecture from yours truly. 

[lokiarsene]

A Bird in Need of Grounding - Akeshu.

Rating: T (brief descriptions of panic attacks/anxiety, PDA, cursing) Summary: Goro doesn’t consider himself the best person to reach out to in times of need, but for Akira he’ll make an immediate exception. (Soundtrack was just Imagine Dragons’ “Monster” on loop)

Notes: Obviously indulgent fic is indulgent, but I needed some hurt/comfort, and figured I’d take it out on these two. But I was tired of Goro being the miserable one in my fics, so I figured I’d explore an oft overlooked aspect of Joker’s personality. People who dedicate so much of their time and energy into helping others are in danger of falling apart when it comes to taking care of themselves (hello, I know this through experience), so--here you go.

Also on AO3 if you’d prefer.

Goro felt his phone buzzing away like a hornet in his pocket. His brain immediately took a long leap, bypassing guesswork, and started building up little safe houses of assumptions.

It’s nothing important.

And it probably wasn’t. It couldn’t be Sae—they had spoken last night, and she had mentioned something about afternoon meetings that would take up her time well up through the evening. It couldn’t be Shido. He was busy going on street tours, shouting his policies to any rapt, eager crowd that would hear him. It was a wonder he’d have any voice left once all that was through, but the man was gifted with a preternatural fire. A burning in his heart and mind that refused to let a little thing like simple weakness drag him down.

And… that was it. The full extent of his call list. Pitifully small, all things considered.

So naturally he took his time in answering the call. Even considered ignoring it totally, letting the voicemail pick up what was bound to be a wrong number, or some kind of scammer who got through to hassle him about credit debt he didn’t have.

It’s nothing important. And yet, something tugged at the edge of his thoughts, insistent, incessant, pulling hard on the sharp, nagging teeth of his hope. But what if it is? Important.

With his lips pressed tight against the breath he needed to take, Goro dug his phone out of his pocket and peered at the screen. He didn’t recognize the name or the number—but still, he took a chance. His hope demanded it.

“Hello?”

“Akechi-kun? It’s Akira.” A pause. “Kurusu.”

“Oh? Hello.” Goro cleared his throat. His voice was getting too frayed, too weak. He looked at his empty hand, watched it shake from tip to wrist, and curled it up into a protective fist. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to call.”

Akira laughed. It was a sharp sound, lopsided, uneven. Goro frowned to hear it. There wasn’t any joy in the noise at all.

“Nobody ever expects me to call them,” he said, although that didn’t explain the laugh. It didn’t explain anything. It only made Goro want to probe deeper.

“I consider it a nice surprise, if that means anything,” Goro said.

“Akechi-kun—Goro.” Akira struggled to speak, was stumbling over the words and the distance demanded by formality. “Can I see you for a little bit? Right now? Unless you’re busy.”

Goro stared around at his empty apartment. Stark white, spartan bare, meticulously clean. The only thing he had left to do for the day was talk himself out of going to Leblanc yet again, and yet here Akira was, giving him a perfect excuse to go against even that.

“I’m not busy at all. Are you all right?”

“No, no I’m really not, but I’ll try not to be too obvious about it.” Akira’s voice picked up speed, each word crashing into the ends of the one before it, like a trainwreck. Goro tensed up at the word, at the image, at the memory. Don’t think about that right now. It was easy, too easy, to overlook that when Akira was on the line, clearly in need although Goro couldn’t quite figure out why.

His lips pressed down tight on instinct, trapping more words inside. “Has something happened?”

“Something is always happening to me.”

“You and everyone else in the world.” Goro flexed his free hand and took a breath. Strong, steady, grounding. It made his chest ache. “Where are you right now?”

“Heading towards the underground mall in Shibuya.”

“I’ll meet you there. Sit tight.”

“Thank you,” Akira breathed, his words like smoke—thin, weightless, desperate. “Thank you.”

  It didn’t take long for Goro to get to Akira, nor to find him. All he had to do was look for the tall, gangly boy in a Shujin uniform with ridiculously oversized glasses and messy hair. It was like a beacon, drawing the eye in and making your attention focus hard, riveted.

Or is that just me? No one else seemed to stare at Akira with the same intensity and razor-keen focus, and that was an issue Goro knew he’d have to tackle at some point, perhaps late at night with only himself and a nagging, scraping need for company. But he didn’t have to get into that now, yes? Not in public, surely.

He took a quick look around. The other people in the mall were going about their average day, muttering to their friends or else keeping their eyes riveted to the floor, their faces slack, blank, lifeless. Akira was leaning against the wall in front of the flower shop, one shoulder hunched up to brace himself against the wall, the other sinking low, slack, limp.

Goro watched as Akira kept kicking the ground in an uneven rhythm, matching the beat to a song in his head—or perhaps he was just nervous. Akira was an uncommonly fidgety person, always moving, always touching something—the back of his neck, his phone, twirling pencils, testing his grip on his backpack. At first, Goro thought the boy just had too much energy to burn, but now he wondered if it weren’t something worse than that, like warning signs or the stark red countdown on a clock before the fuse ignites.

Quite simply, the other boy looked stressed out—worse than stressed, he looked strung out, unraveling at the seams, every knot and cord and thread that made up his person now pulled past its limit and fraying down to its threadbare essentials. Akira’s eyes were hollowed and dull, and his jaw was clenched tight as if he were afraid to even breathe for the air he so clearly needed.

Goro’s stomach dipped low and twisted with a surge of guilt. What the hell am I supposed to do about this? Walking over to him could work, for a start. Strike up some small talk, maybe carve out a safe, quiet little space for them to breathe in before the panic spilled over—as long as Akira was willing. Yes, that sounded like the right thing to do, if not the only thing.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long,” Goro said when he was close enough to be heard.

Akira’s eyes swung up from the ground and pinned their gaze to Goro’s face. “I didn’t notice,” he said, his teeth half clenched. “It’s fine. It’s not a problem. I don’t mind.” The words were fired off quickly, as if Akira wanted to get rid of them. And sure enough, Goro watched as Akira turned his head briefly to the side and snapped his mouth shut again, his jaw clenched tight like a trap, as if these movements could rein in what was coming quickly undone inside.

This wasn’t an assumption. Or rather, it was, but it was a safe assumption, rather than a baseless, rude projection, because Goro knew all the signs of a panicked mind trying desperately to free itself from itself. He knew from experience, had become something of a veteran of his own tangled up panic and anxieties, like every thought was trying to walk through tripwire. Had watched himself go through all these same tense, wound up motions in the mirror, watching as his face shifted in ripples and twists as he succumbed to every trap and trick and catching, clawing thought that pulled him down deeper into worries and misery.

You look as bad as I alway try not to feel, Goro thought, but he knew better than to say such a thing here, now, to Akira of all people. His heart let out a low, burning throb, like the sting of a wound trying to heal. The last person he’d ever want to see suffer exactly how he felt was the boy standing before him right now. But trying to tear that thought of his mind was too difficult, and to lay it out in words was an even weightier task that Goro hadn’t quite figured out how to do.

Goro watched the other boy’s mouth, noting the way the lips pressed tight, and the oppressive, rigid flex of muscle that kept his jaw almost naturally wired in place. It looked about as bad as it always felt, and a pang of sympathy pain resonated through Goro’s face as he cleared his throat and tried again to speak.

“I’m here right now. I’m here, and I’m listening.” Goro waited for Akira to look at him before he moved, just a few steps closer in, so the two of them could whisper if they had to. No one around them noticed; no one was even looking. That was in itself a blessing and a curse. Hiding pain in plain sight was the worst kind of talent to have. “But if we’re going to talk, then I’m going to need you to do something.”

“Everyone always needs me to do something,” Akira spat out, but there was no heat to the word, no real anger, just something limp and harsh and heavy. His smirk was too wide, his eyes still too dull, and his words trembled, walking out of his mouth on legs that were uncertain of the weight they carried or their ability to bear the burden. “Everyone’s always asking me to do shit for them.”

“Yes, but that’s different from this,” Goro said, keeping his voice level and his eyes focused. His gaze didn’t move once from Akira’s face. He would be steady and true, even if Akira couldn’t be.

“How? What is it? Just tell me.”

“I need you to breathe. Slowly. Deep.”

“I am breathing.”

“And you’re choking on it.”

Akira scowled, his eyebrows folding down. “What?”

“I can hear you,” Goro said. “I can hear you, and it’s obviously difficult for you right now. So try something else. Something small and easy. But don’t do it because I asked you—do it for you.”

Goro watched as the words cast their magic on the other boy’s face. His jaw unclenched, and his lips, once pressed down so thin and tight, gave way to a small, surprised o. It didn’t last long, but it was long enough to make a difference—long enough for some air to get in. Goro listened to Akira take in a deep, shaky breath and felt his own lungs flood with life just the same.

“There’s so much of the world,” Goro heard himself say. The words came spilling out of a quiet corner of his mind, a place that he had long since tucked away and didn’t let out except in his weakest, most private moments. But standing here, looking into Akira’s eyes, listening to him struggle to do something so simple and necessary as breathing, gave him… not the courage, but the need. The need to speak from a place deeper than the heart. “There’s so much of the world that it’s almost suffocating, isn’t it? There’s so much to think about, to face, to stare down and deal with each and every day, and there’s only so much of you to put up against all that.”

Akira nodded slowly, tearfully. Goro checked the urge to reach out and wipe the tears away. “I can’t—settle in. I can’t fit or twist myself down to make myself safe. That’s how it feels and no I can’t explain it so don’t ask. Don’t try.”

After a shaky, quick breath, Akira continued. “It’s like having teeth in my head, but the teeth are my head, or maybe they’re the thoughts inside it, and I am both the animal caught in a trap and the trap itself, tearing myself apart and having only myself to blame. I’m doing it all to myself and I don’t—I’m not—I’m not trying to. I don’t mean it, but there it is, the blood’s on my hands and it’s my own blood, and I am both the murderer and the weapon and—”

Akira’s words were still shaking, but at least he was breathing, at least he was speaking. “And yet all the fucking time, every fucking day, I have to shove all that aside and let everyone else work their problems out on me. Me.” He laughed, and each note of the sound was like a thud of a stone striking a pond and sinking down deeper to drown. “I’m supposed to help put them all back together, and no one stops to wonder if they should return the fucking favor.”

Lightning quick, Akira reached out and placed his hands on Goro’s shoulders, squeezing tight. Without thinking, acting only on instinct, Goro planted his feet on the floor and withstood the other boy’s weight. There was a need in those hands, a need and something deeper, raw, aching and open, bleeding honesty and the pure terror of vulnerability.

“Why did you come here?” Akira demanded, his eyes sharp and glinting like a knife.

Goro kept his voice steady. “Because you called me. You asked to see me.”

“And that’s it?”

“That’s all there is to it,” Goro said. “We might be new acquaintances, but that doesn’t mean I’d ignore a cry for help when I hear it.”

Akira studied him, his dark eyes shifting across Goro’s own gaze in quick, nervous shifts, like a bird in need of grounding. Then, with a concentrated effort, his eyes trailed slowly down, lingering on Goro’s mouth.

They stayed that way for a long trail of seconds, seconds of silence that then bled out into a minute. Still, no one looked at them, no one stopped to stare or whisper beneath their hands. They were safe, hiding out in the open where no one thought to look.

The knot in Goro’s stomach and the pain in his chest merged to meet, and in the joining, something… strange begin to blossom. Something warm and heavy, as if honey were a mood that could spread through the chest and coat every nerve along the way. Goro watched as something similar unraveled in Akira’s eyes. It was a different kind of undoing: this was softer, gentle, almost hypnotic. His gaze, once so sharp and bared, shifted gently, so gently, becoming instead a look that searched and sought.

The suspense of the moment was terrible. Goro hoped it would last.

“I’m not doing this to work a favor out of you later,” he said, hating to break the silence, but knowing the words needed to be said. Akira had to hear them, and that alone was reason enough to speak. “I don’t know what sort of friendships or people you’re used to, Akira, but I’m not interested in fitting into their pattern. I’d like to be something different for you, if you’ll let me.”

“Like what?” Akira asked, his voice pitched low. There was something intimate about the question, something so vulnerable and raw that it made Goro shiver to hear it. Akira’s voice was whisper soft and wet, like a tear or a kiss.

Goro looked at the boy’s eyes, dark and shining bright. He took a quick glimpse at his mouth, which was no longer tense and pressed down flat, as if trying to smother the life from himself. He reached out and placed his hand on Akira’s chest. The movement was slow and cautious, giving Akira ample time to stop him if that’s what he wanted. But he didn’t—didn’t stop, that is. So Goro slid his palm up and to the side, searching for the boy’s heartbeat. And there it was—thumping fast and steady against the cage of his ribs.

Akira swayed at Goro’s touch, as if the weight of that hand and its gentle search were almost too much to bear, but bear it he did. And that moment, that small moment, was enough to break Goro’s hesitation clean through, and let something like courage take its place.

“Like this,” Goro said, leaning in. His other hand curled up and around the back of Akira’s head, taking hold of that mess of unruly black hair and steadying himself in its grip.

When their lips met, the kiss was at first a hard little smash, about as awkward as they both felt. But they soon shifted, adjusting pressure and positions, tilting their heads just so until they found just the right space and place to fit together—and they did fit. They settled into each other and into the kiss, until just the one soon became a series, slow, soft, and searching.

Rest here, stay here, relax and breathe, Goro thought, thought and clearly could not say, not only because his lips were currently occupied, but because there was no way in hell these thoughts could translate well into words. Make a home out of me. Settle in and stay as long as you’d like. He might not be able to put these thoughts into words, but he could press them into each kiss and deliver them to Akira, the boy in clear and painful need.

And in that moment, in that small bit of time suspended in between seeking relief and finding release, Goro thought he understood Akira’s kisses, too. He could all but hear the unspoken words that passed between Akira’s lips over onto his. You’ll need me like they do—you’ll lean on me twice as hard as they ever will, but I will take it, I will endure it, because I would bear the world and more for you. Just you. Only you. If you’d only ask.

Goro stepped back and away first. Alright, that’s it. That’s enough. Once you started imagining what someone else’s kiss could mean, that’s how you knew you were in too goddamn deep. And Goro would at least like to pretend he could walk away from this encounter with something like his composure intact.

The kiss was broken, but his lips tingled in the aftermath, as if Akira were still pressed against his mouth, matching kiss for kiss and touch for touch. Goro closed his hand into a fist, feeling the boy’s heartbeat inside his palm. It thundered out of time with his own, making Goro mindful not only of his own frantic pulse, but the unsteady rhythm that countered it. It was an odd feeling to carry around, especially after a kiss. The beat didn’t buzz like a hornet, but it stung twice as hard and hurt ten times worse.

Akira cleared his throat. “That was unexpected,” he said. And for the first time all evening, he sounded like his usual self. Casual, laid-back, consistently amused and almost a little sore about it.

Goro felt himself smile. “It got you to calm down, didn’t it?” he asked.

“I… sort of?” Akira scratched the back of his head. “I mean, talking to you was already doing that just fine.”

“I see.” Goro’s heart was a thunder in his chest, slamming hard against his bones, ready to smash them to powder. This isn’t happening. This didn’t happen. I didn’t—

“I’m not complaining about it,” Akira continued, taking note of Goro’s pinned-on smile and the tightness around his eyes. “How could I? I kissed you back and more. It’s just…”

“Yes?”

Akira laughed again. It was a light, easy sound, the kind that made Goro’s smile slip from the edges and fall flat with hunger and need. He wanted to taste the sound of Akira’s laugh on his lips, wanted to have his full of that ease and charm—but they couldn’t. Not now, and certainly not here.

“Now I’m wishin’ I had called you over to Leblanc,” Akira said, his voice low and thick. Goro shivered as the words poured into his ears. The other boy’s low tone was like a new kind of kiss, taunting, tempting, and terrible all wrapped up into one. “So we could work out the rest of this in private.”

Goro suppressed a shiver. He closed his hands tight, trapped his shaking fingers in his palms. “So ask me,” he heard himself say.

“Come home with me,” Akira whispered, his eyes burning bright and his words like a flame burning their way down to Goro’s heart. “Come home with me and let’s finish what you started.”

“I—” Goro began, but the words got jumbled on his tongue and knocked out of order. I can’t. I won’t. I shouldn’t. We shouldn’t. It was a mistake—it was bold, brash, too stupid. I should have asked, should have waited. I should have hit you instead. If I go home with you now, then a part of me will never leave. I’ll grow in your life like a weed; you’ll have to tear me out by the roots, and I think that just might kill me.

“I can’t. Not now. Not yet.” Goro closed his eyes. It was easier to lie when he didn’t have to look at the person suffering from it. “But you can always call me if you’d like to—that is, if you wouldn’t mind…?”

“I hear you.” Akira pushed his hands into his pockets and adopted his usual slouching posture. Why didn’t Goro notice it until now, that this in itself was a kind of lie, a mask that wrapped up his whole body and trapped the truth of him inside? “And yeah, you’re probably right. It’s a school night and all. Might be worth getting some rest instead.”

“We’d both be better off doing just that,” Goro said. And this wasn’t a lie, not entirely. They would be better off separate and distinctly removed from each other’s reach—but they both were so clearly deadset against it, if all those kisses were any indication.

“Thanks for the help, Goro.”

“Thanks for being so… receptive.”

Akira smirked and shook his head. “You make it easy,” he said, looking Goro over. “It’s hard not to give in to you. Remember what I said the other day, about fate?”

Maybe fate meant for us to be together. “Yes, I do.”

Akira’s fingertips curled around the edge of Goro’s hand. They squeezed around his pinky finger, his touch pressing tight around the gloves on Goro’s hand. He offered Goro a smile, crooked and shy.

“Thanks for picking up the phone,” he said.”

“Of course.” Goro cleared his throat, determined to make his voice steady. “Any time.”

And with a wink, Akira pulled his hand back and walked away. Now it was Goro’s turn to struggle to breathe on the whole train ride back home.

You did this to yourself, he thought, struggling to fit his key into the lock of his apartment door. You did it to yourself and you enjoyed every minute of it. Goro laughed. The sound crept low and ghost-like through each dark, empty room. He was right. Of course he was right. And he didn’t regret a single thing.

He smiled in spite of himself—no to spite himself. He forced the smile to stay on and locked in place as he stripped for bed and slid beneath the covers. I did this to myself, and I wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything. Except, of course, for one person. Just one. Only him.

Goro hoped it wouldn’t take too Akira long to call. But he could wait. He could tarry. He could endure the hell of it. The hanging suspense between need and release was a terror of a new kind, a terror whose name was not quite love but just about, and Goro hoped it would last.

[taintedkibou]

Couldn’t Endure - part five

[part one] [part two] [part three] [part four]

Ryuji groaned, the sound muffled, and attempted a blind swat at whatever it was that tapped at his cheek. The annoyance disappeared and Ryuji relaxed into the slumber that almost eluded him. He reached it, only to have it ripped away again when the tapping returned with a vengeance. “What the hell…!” He shot up, glaring sleepily around the familiar room.

Akira made a loud noise of protest after being rudely jostled, dragging a hand down his face as he mumbled incoherently.

Morgana sat proudly in Ryuji’s lap, paw raised for another attack. “It’s time to wake up.”

“…no school,” Akira moaned. Today was the last day of Summer Break. He smiled sleepily as he realized he was on the verge of developing a summer romance.

“You have to have your talk today and we all need to eat. Downstairs, now. Boss is waiting.” Morgana prodded Ryuji in the stomach, jumping away when a hand swatted at him. When he stopped, and looked, Ryuji was still on autopilot, if his closed eyes were anything to go by. Akira was no better. He was turned onto his side, face buried in Ryuji’s clothed hip, arm trying to worm its way back to its original position around Ryuji’s waist. 

Morgana sighed softly and jumped down from the futon. He padded his way across the floor to the stairs, heading down into the café. He meowed softly to gain Sojiro’s attention, putting on his most pitiful expression for the man.

Sojiro scoffed. “He replaced one stray with another. Are they decent?” The man sighed, realizing he was talking to a cat. “I really don’t feel like going up there again…”

Morgana risked it and jumped up onto the seat at the end of the counter. “They’re decent, but they’re still half-asleep. Ryuji probably fell back asleep sitting up.” He shook his head, tail swishing back and forth in irritation.

Sojiro stared at the meowing feline, wondering if Morgana was actually trying to talk with him. He shook his head, banishing that thought. “Let’s give them a few more minutes,” he sighed. “Maybe the smell of curry will get them down here.”

-

Ryuji’s eyes fluttered open, seeking the plate of curry that had been within his reach. He was met with a bare wooden wall, the top of a desk just in his line of vision. “…a dream,” he whined, rolling over. He came face to face with Akira’s angelic face. Oh. Ryuji grinned and attempted to scoot closer. He brushed their noses together once he could reach, laughing to himself when Akira frowned in his sleep. “Wake up.”

“Ryuji,” Akira moaned softly.

‘Too sexy…!’ Ryuji scrambled the short distance away, forgetting just how short that distance was as he tumbled onto the floor.

At the resounding thud from upstairs, Sojiro smiled at Morgana, who looked pleased as well.

Akira stared over the side of the bed, one hand rubbing sleep from his eyes while the other kept him propped up. “Morning,” he yawned, the word more an unintelligible sound than anything else.

Ryuji didn’t respond to the greeting. He rolled over, pushed himself onto his feet, and took a seat at the edge of the bed. Akira stared blearily at the blond’s back, waiting. “I’m ready when you are,” Ryuji muttered after stretching out the silence.

A tap to Ryuji’s side that made him twitch as well as capture his attention had the blond turning around. Akira smiled, his bangs obscuring his eyes enough for him to look almost coy. “Breakfast first. I think you’re going to enjoy it.”

 Ryuji more than enjoyed breakfast. “Curry for breakfast! Dude, you’re so lucky! I wish I was living here.”

Akira winced after biting his tongue to keep himself from responding with “you can—just move in with me”. His days here were limited, which was one topic he intended to broach during their “talk”.

Unfortunately, Sojiro was kicking them out for the day. “Every time you two get together, I hear noises I don’t need to.”

Ryuji blushed a bright red, wishing he could hide in a bag like Morgana. Akira looked unfazed as always.

“I don’t need the few customers I have chased away because one of you always falls out of bed. It wasn’t meant for two people anyway,” Sojiro muttered beneath his breath, unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should buy a bed big enough for the boys. ‘No, no, no.’ It was bad enough people notice him even when he’s trying to blend in normally; rumors would fly into the next town if he was seen getting a futon delivered to the café.

Morgana pawed at Akira’s shoulder to get his attention before pointing at Ryuji. Akira’s glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose, his eyes wide as he stared the solid sculpture that was once Sakamoto Ryuji, frozen in shock with a permanent blush covering his face.

Sojiro adjusted his glasses with a faint smirk. “Oh. I think I embarrassed him.”

It took grinding a few of the cheaper beans and letting the scent waft up, guided along by Akira’s waving hands, for Ryuji to come back to his senses. The moment he did, he bowed so low so fast, it was a blur to Sojiro. “Thank you for having me! I’m sorry if I was a burden.”

“He sounds like a robot,” Morgana sighed. Akira hide his smile behind his hand.

Sojiro waved him off, deciding to make himself a small cup with the just-crushed beans. “Don’t mind. Now get out of here, both of you.”

Akira placed one hand to the small of Ryuji’s back and the other to his shoulder to straighten him out of his bent position. He then guided them to the door, Morgana waving cheerily on their behalf. Sojiro shook his head as the water heated, wondering just what his life had become.

-

Ryuji returned to his senses as they made their way to Yongen-Jaya station, only to have his hopes dashed when they arrived at the platform to see a crowd also waited. Akira was very happy when they got forced into the crowded train, only because it meant Ryuji got trapped against him. The blond tried his hardest to look everywhere except at his friend, but he couldn’t do anything to stop the blush that rose to his cheeks.

When they finally arrived at his station, Ryuji launched himself out of the train car and onto the platform. Akira followed at a more sedate pace, brushing a fleck of dust off his shoulder with a smirk.

‘Cocky li'l…!’ Ryuji pulled himself together and took on the role of leader. He pointed out the usual places, which were few and far between. Just like Yongen-Jaya, his was more of a residential area. It’s why he was always in Shibuya if he could find the time. Ryuji spun around, walking backwards, and Akira almost wanted to shield his eyes from the blinding grin. “We haven’t been to the arcade in a while, have we? I mean, we’ve met there, but we’ve never tried the games.”

Ryuji moved to Akira’s side and slung an arm around his shoulder, mindful of the bag carrying Morgana. “I’ve been hearing that King finally decided to start training someone else in Akiba. That wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?” Akira gave a silent nod. “Just like our leader!” Ryuji laughed, squeezing Akira’s shoulder tightly. “You really get around, don’t you?”

“You have no idea,” Morgana muttered on Akira’s behalf.

Ryuji kept his arm draped over Akira’s shoulder, talking about everything and nothing at all, just to have contact with the other teen. If they couldn’t hold hands, this was the next best option. Akira had long since figured out Ryuji’s plan and let him indulge. The climbed to the second level of an apartment block and the arm fell away once Ryuji announced they were at their destination. Akira snatched the blond’s hand in his before it reached Ryuji’s side. Ryuji jumped and tried to pull free. This was different from the theater. Anyone could see them.

“No one can see us,” Akira reassured him, tugging their arms between them. “And you only need one hand to open the door.”

Ryuji stopped fidgeting the longer he stared at Akira’s unwavering gaze. He nodded and used his free hand to dig his keys out of his pocket. Once inside, they toed off their shoes at the genkan and Ryuji called out for his mother. Akira refused to let go and was dragged through the house to the kitchen. There was a covered plate on the table, with a note sitting on top of the plastic.

I wasn’t sure when you’d return home but I had to step out to pick up some things from Shibuya. I’ll be back shortly                               —Mom ♡

Great. Ryuji inhaled and exhaled deeply. They had the house to themselves.

Akira realized this as well and tugged at Ryuji’s hand until the other boy faced him. “You promised you wouldn’t run away again.”

Those gray eyes, normally confident, we’re full of uncertainty and a longing Ryuji had seen in his own eyes on the days he was brave enough to face his reflection. Any other time, he’d get a kick out of knowing he was the one causing the brunet’s usual stoical mask to crack. Now, it hurt. He’d caused Akira so much trouble—had unwittingly hurt him, all because he was unreasonable and pig-headed. “Sorry,” Ryuji murmured. “I’m sorry,” he corrected, “That I’ve been such an idiot. Just… real scared.”

Akira released Ryuji’s hand and cautiously extended both arms in a silent request to hold him. Ryuji scoffed, a lopsided smile tugging at his lips, and stepped into Akira’s embrace. Morgana decided it was time to explore his new surroundings and gracefully jumped out of the bag and onto the floor. He disappeared into the house immediately after.

“Don’t break anything!” Ryuji shouted after the long-gone cat.

Akira tugged on his arm. “Show me your room,” he demanded after gaining the blond’s attention.

Ryuji blushed and spun them in an awkward dance so he was once again in the lead. “It’s nothing fancy, but I’m proud to call it my home.“ Since it was just him and his mother, they moved into a 2LK. They had their choice of eating in the living area or kitchen. His mother suggested the kitchen and purchased a small table just big enough for the two of them.

Ryuji pulled Akira past a closed door with a nameplate on it, but didn’t have time to catch the name.

“Mom’s room,” Ryuji explained. “Bathroom.” He indicated with his free hand at the door right after his mother’s. “We made sure to agree on one that didn’t have the bathroom attached to her room. She hasn’t seen me naked since I was a kid,” Ryuji laughed, his head thrown slightly back. Akira willed his heart to calm down lest it burst out of his chest. The short tour ended at Ryuji’s room. Unfortunately for Akira, he managed to pull away, if only so he could use both arms to execute a dramatic “ta-dah” pose. “My room!”

‘I want to kiss you.’ Akira smiled. “Shall we enter?”

Ryuji’s wide grin dimmed into a sheepish smile, and he shoved his left hand into the pocket of his jeans. The right combed through his hair. “’s kinda messy,” he mumbled.

“Nonsense. It’s well-loved.” Akira took the initiative, sliding open the shoji to Ryuji’s room. It wasn’t messy, just lived in. Each wall was covered with at least two posters of Ryuji’s interests, sometimes three. Unlike Futaba, he didn’t have a figure collection. He did have a manga collection, however. An entire bookcase full. Akira gravitated over there, skimming some of the titles. Most, he’d never even heard of, but that’s because he rarely read manga.

“Sh—” Ryuji cut himself off with a hiss, making Akira wonder if he had a personal rule not to curse in his own home. “I’ll get us something to drink. Soda? Water? Nevermind, I’ll bring both.” And just like that, Ryuji was gone.

Akira sighed and pulled a volume from the shelf. It was a title Ryuji seemed to personally love since the collection went as far as volume sixteen. Akira settled on the floor, legs crossed, and set about reading.

Ryuji felt proud of himself to be past the stage of panic attacks. Akira was in his room—so what? He put the plate of food in the fridge, removing two bottles of water and two bottles of soda afterward. With a bump from his hip, the fridge door closed and he made his way back down the hallway. He almost dropped the bottles after seeing Akira pull out a stack of volumes from the bookcase. “O-oi! How fast do you read?!”

“Pretty fast?” Akira guessed. “I only took this much because it would seem pointless to get up every time I finished a volume.” His expression turned thoughtful as he sank back onto the floor, resting the small stack beside him. “I could think of it as an exercise, though.”

Ryuji set the bottles down on his bed, sinking to the floor beside Akira. “That’s one of the things I like about you. You’re always thinking. Maybe that’s why you suck at the gym.”

“Hey,” Akira protested, accepting the bottle of water suddenly thrust at him. “I’m getting better. And I practice chin-ups in my room.”

Ryuji choked on his sip of soda at the sudden image of Akira, shirtless, hanging from the rafters in the attic, muscles straining as he pulls himself up—

“Ryuji!”

Snapped from his daydream, Ryuji wiped at his mouth and chin, only to realize the drink had already spilt down the front of his shirt. “I’m fine,” he sighed and leaned back against the bed frame. “Just another day in the life of useless Sakamoto.”

Akira’s eyes narrowed in a glare, sharp enough to cut through the toughest Shadow “You’re not… You’re not useless, Ryuji!” He pushed the manga volumes aside, scooting around so he was sitting directly in front of the blond. “Are you ready?”

Ryuji directed a leisurely smile at the ceiling light. “Yeah…” The plastic bottle crackled under the force of his clenched hands. “How do they start these? A long time ago…”

Akira relaxed his posture with a roll of his eyes. It would be more comfortable sitting with his back against the bed, but he wanted Ryuji to see him and know that he was listening. Or maybe… “Do you want me to go first?” he questioned.

Ryuji blinked down at him, colored spots dotting his vision.

Akira’s smile was distant. “I have things to talk about as well.”

Ryuji drew his knees up, slouching down to hide behind them. “Yeah… Go ahead.”

Akira clasped his hands together tightly, stopping just short of wringing them in a nervous fashion. “When you took that hit for me, I realized that being silent like I always am probably wasn’t the best course of action. I hadn’t told you anything and would probably get the chance. That’s what I thought. I was truly scared in that moment. “You were the first person to give me the time of day, even though it wasn’t under the best of circumstances. I spend more time with you than anyone else. I always choose you first when we go on missions.” Akira twiddled his thumbs together, smiling as he recalled the progression of their friendship. “Being around you is an adventure. It was fun playing spy with you. I still think the track team are a bunch of,” he trailed off, mumbling something beneath his breath Ryuji couldn’t catch, but he surmised it was not nice. “I’m sorry”

Ryuji perked up, no longer bothering to hide his blush behind his knees. “For what?”

“For not doing anything when you let the track guys beat you up.”

Ryuji sat up straighter. “Dude, no. I wanted that.”

Akira glared at his hands. “But you didn’t deserve it. You think it’s okay for people to treat you like a punching bag, but it’s not. Just because your father and Kamoshida, useless piles of steaming shit that they are—” Ryuji’s mouth fell open, but his eyes were bright with laughter. “—led you to believe that was your role, doesn’t mean you have to accept it.” Akira lifted a hand, combing his fingers through his hair. The curls easily bounced back into place. “You should’ve let me beat them up for you.”

“One: you’re here on probation because of violence. We all know you were framed, but what kind of friend would I be if I let you go to jail, huh? Then who would I hang out with?” Ryuji grinned.

Akira cocked his head inquisitively. “Is there a two?”

Ryuji shook his head and made a “continue” gesture before slouching back against the side of the bed.

“I’m not dating Makoto.” Akira removed his glasses, cleaned them with the hem of his shirt, but didn’t put them back on. “You’re not my only friend, Ryuji.”

Ryuji gritted his teeth, biting back a snarky outburst.

“You were my first friend. You’re my best friend. I’d like to think we’re something more than friends now, but I digress. Makoto came to me with an issue involving one of her friends. A girl named Eiko.”

The name sounded familiar, but Ryuji dismissed it as irrelevant.

Akira slipped his glasses back on with a tired sigh and finally met Ryuji’s glare head on. “She asked me to accompany her to the red-light district because she heard someone was spotted there. That person was Eiko. Somehow, they became friends. Well, she muscled her way into Makoto’s life, but they got along surprisingly well. Eiko always assumed we were a couple, no matter how many times Makoto corrected her.”

“So you just decided to roll with it,” Ryuji interjected, his brown eyes narrowing as he turned the situation over and over in his mind. He wasn’t angry. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like an “Akira” thing to do. For Makoto’s sake, and the sake of her friend. Ryuji never once stopped to think about how Akira felt, just himself.

“—was a host using her. There was a huge falling out, but things worked out in the end—”

Listening to Akira now, Ryuji realized he was an even bigger fool than he thought. ‘Of course he was helping someone else. He has more friends than I do! I’m the one that doesn’t have any… I’m… I’m behaving like a fuckin’ jilted girlfriend!’ Ryuji tangled his fingers in his hair with a pained groan. Hands covered his, gently removing them to pin them to the floor.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Akira started softly, fingers tracing comforting patterns on the back of Ryuji’s hands. “But it’s not true.”

“It is,” Ryuji whimpered. “I was stupid and didn’t let you explain.”

“Know this: I am not dating Makoto. I’m dating Ryuji.”

Ryuji gritted his teeth, angry tears forming in the corner of his eyes. “I’ve been conditioned to hate myself,” he ground out, eyes still screwed shut. “My old man… He overheard me telling my mom that I—that I… The way I felt… about,” Ryuji took a shuddering breath. “Who I liked…”

“Ryuji.”

Akira’s voice was soft and soothing, but it didn’t make things better. In fact, it made things worse. It made Ryuji remember every blow that came from his father. He bared his teeth in a forced grin. “He told me he was going to beat the perversion out of me. The reason I try so hard with girls is because of him. But then you show up, on a freakin’ rainy day, with your stupid hair and stupid face…”

Akira chuckled, releasing Ryuji’s hands to cup his cheeks instead. He smoothed his thumbs beneath closed eyes, encouraging them to open. Ryuji did and a few tears escaped, only to be wiped away by Akira’s thumbs. The longer he stared into those wounded brown eyes, the more he felt his own self-control slip. He wanted Ryuji to know just how much he loved him and sometimes, actions spoke louder than words. Akira apologized softly before closing the distance between them. His intention was a chaste kiss—just a soft brush of lips since Ryuji was still wary about their budding relationship, but it was Ryuji that surged forward to meet him. With no support behind him, they both fell back onto the floor. Despite the tumble, the kiss remained close-mouthed, but Ryuji obviously intended to leave his mark upon Akira’s lips.

At the soft moan from beneath him, Ryuji sprang back, flattening himself against his bed frame. "I’m sorry,” he gasped. Akira slowly sat up and Ryuji’s eyes fell on his kiss-swollen lips. What was he apologizing for again? The kiss was amazing, better than he’d ever imagined. Being a lovesick idiot? No, that was a given. Ryuji remembered. “The next time I get upset, I promise I’ll come to you first, even if it’s just to sulk.”

“Mmm,” Akira hummed in agreement, unconsciously licking his lips to remember Ryuji’s taste. It was sweet, probably from the soda he’d spilled on himself earlier. His head cleared enough for him to realize that wasn’t a proper response. “I’d rather you do that. It’ll make it easier for us to work through any issues together. Like…” He hesitated, but then realized he would be going back on his own words if he stayed silent. “Like the fact that I’ll be leaving at the end of the school year.”

Ryuji slumped onto his side, staring at the other teen with the clearest eyes. The only other time he felt like this was when he ripped off his mask and freed Captain Kidd. This was another mask being removed. “I know, but I don’t think I care. I’d visit you, or you could visit me.” Ryuji smiled and reached out a hand. “Because we’re together. Dating.”

Akira’s face lit up and he grabbed Ryuji’s hand. Instead of lying next to him, he pulled the blond to his feet and they tumbled onto the bed. Ryuji’s laughter was louder than Akira’s soft chuckles as they struggled to untangle their limbs. In the end, they gave up. Ryuji’s arm became a pillow for Akira’s head, the dark curls tickling the blond’s cheek. Ryuji banished all thoughts of the past. He would try his hardest to live in the present, where he had Akira and he was a Phantom Thief.

 There was also his mother—who was staring at him from his open door.

Ryuji shook off the last vestiges of his nap, but found himself unable to move with Akira still clinging to him. His mom raised a finger to her smiling lips. Later, she mouthed after lowering her hand. She closed the door as quietly as she’d opened it.

Ryuji fell back onto the bed, a grin on his face and no fear in his heart.

xxx

Futaba averted her gaze from her laptop after feeling her phone vibrate against her thigh. She picked it up, unlocking the screen, and was surprised to see the new mail was from Akira. Had he lost Ryuji again? They were supposed to be making up today. With a frustrated sigh, Futaba opened the message, which spoke of an attachment, only to have the widest grin spread across her face.

The attachment was a selfie, obviously taken by Ryuji. Akira was still asleep; a fact Ryuji had taken advantage of since he was kissing the dark curls while still keeping eye contact with the camera. Futaba read aloud the text that followed, “I caught a Phantom Thief, and stole his Heart.” With a soft snicker, she forwarded the image to Yusuke. It took a few moments for him to reply, but Futaba barked out a loud laugh when he did.

Finally.

Futaba could hear the exasperation and see the eye roll in that single word. She sent off a reply—My sentiments exactly, Inari—before saving the image. 

[part six] 

[glassworkspiderlilies]

picnic baskets

Persona 5 | Goro Akechi, Haru Okumura | AO3 Summary: Goro runs into Haru amidst a crowded street. They have an outing together. Notes: Drabble two! If it can still be called that, given that it’s like, 2,000 words... 

He’s in Shibuya to check out the crepe stand today, as magazines have been boasting about its new selection of summer flavors. Goro always makes a point of keeping up with food trends—he doesn’t really need to, but he finds that it helps with maintaining his charismatic detective prince character, and being knowledgeable about such things provides him with more connections than people think.

Plus, as crowded as Shibuya gets, he’s rather fond of the city, because it’s easy to hide amongst all the bodies here. On occasion fans will recognize him, but because people are constantly moving and shifting on the streets, it doesn’t take much effort to lose them. There are also plenty of alleys to slip into, as well.

But today’s one of the particularly busy days, likely due to the influx of new seasonal additions to Central Street’s shops in addition to the crepe stand’s soaring popularity. It’s harder to navigate, and it’s easy to jostle others or be jostled, or both at the same time. As Goro makes his way towards the crepe stand, trying to keep close to the sides of the street, someone crashes into him and causes him to bump into someone else. Quickly, he puts his hand out to stop himself from falling further, inadvertently catching the other person beneath him against the window display of one of the shops.

“Sorry, dude!” the teenagers who’d crashed into him say as they hurry off, more focused on their destination than the people they had almost knocked over.

“I’m terribly sorry, I…” Goro says as he turns to see the other party of the accident, trailing off once he recognizes who he’s caught.

“Oh! Akechi-kun!” Haru Okumura says, eyes wide as she looks up at him.

“Okumura-san,” he returns politely, stepping back to free her. “What a way to run into each other.”

She giggles, bringing a hand up to her cover her mouth. “Indeed! A more exciting way than usual, isn’t it?” She adjusts the strap of her bag to rest on her shoulder better as she tilts her head, politely inquisitive. “Where were you headed off to on such a busy day?”

“Ah, I’ve been hearing many things about the new crepe flavors, so I thought I’d satisfy my curiosity and come to taste one,” he says, smiling.  

“What a coincidence! I was on my way there too,” Haru says, eyes gleaming, “Shall we head there together?”

There isn’t a reason for him to refuse, so they travel the short remainder of distance together. They discuss the new crepe flavors as they wait on line—lilac cream, peaches and cream, hazelnut and honey, tiramisu, strawberry and orange, amongst a few others, debating on which ones to get.

“I definitely want to try the lilac, it isn’t so often you get a floral flavor,” Haru nods, “But the hazelnut and honey one seems good too…”

“Ah, those do sound quite nice…but for me, I think I’d like the tiramisu,” Goro muses, putting a hand up to his chin as he thinks, “it would be interesting to taste the dessert in crepe form. But the peaches and cream doesn’t seem as popular as a choice, so I’d like to try it as well…but the same goes for the lilac flavor you spoke of…”

“Oh, I used to love peaches and cream as a child! And the tiramisu flavor seems to be quite popular, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose the coffee flavor appeals to an older audience in addition to the younger customers. My coworker was speaking highly of the honey and hazelnut as well though, for it not being too sweet either, which I’d also like to try, but…”

“Deciding what to get is proving to be more difficult than anticipated, isn’t it?” Haru says, and Goro agrees absentmindedly.

They both ponder for a while until Haru brightens, clapping her hands together as she turns to face Goro.

“I know! How about we get all of the flavors we mentioned and share?”

Goro blinks at her, perplexed at her suggestion.  

“That way, we can taste a majority of the flavors,” Haru explains, “I do this with Ann-chan and Mako-chan when we go out for dessert—Ann-chan has a very sweet tooth and always has a hard time choosing, so we usually end up just getting a lot and splitting.”

It takes him a prolonged moment before he realizes that she’s waiting for an answer.

“I…that sounds…acceptable,” Goro finally says, but with hesitation in his manner. He’s had meals with Sae-san, but their conversation tends to be about work. Otherwise, it’s rare that Goro eats with anyone else. He’s not entirely sure how to get along with Haru Okumura, but her suggestion is reasonable, and it would be rude to refuse at this point. And it would help him to taste more flavors in one go—and add more information in his arsenal.

She smiles at his choice of words, amused, and steps forward to order the two crepes she initially mentioned as Goro orders the other two. Once they have both dessert boxes in hand, Haru looks around for a place to sit, though with the day’s crowd she knows she won’t find one.

“If you don’t mind a train ride, what do you say to Inokashira Park?” she suggests.

Goro shrugs.

“That sounds fine.”

They ride in companionable silence on the subway, making occasional remarks on the passing scenery or today’s weather. When they finally arrive at the park, Haru guides him to a shaded area with a nice view of the lake, asking him to hold her crepe box as she digs into her bag. She pulls out a square of cloth, then opens it wide, laying it on the ground before taking a seat. Goro raises an eyebrow, but follows her actions and sets the crepe boxes down in the center. Haru opens them both, flattening the boxes and cutting the crepes with the provided plastic knife. She gestures for Goro to take first pick, and he shrugs and takes half of the tiramisu crepe, while Haru takes the other.

“Hmmm…this taste…it’s not quite what I expected,” Goro says thoughtfully as he chews.

“You’re right…the texture of the crepe itself doesn’t quite take the place of the traditional ladyfingers, does it?” Haru replies. “Still, it is quite good.”

Goro smiles, then chuckles when he realizes that he’s permitted himself to do so.

“I thought the same thing,” he says. “Shall we try another?”

They move to the honey and hazelnut, which they find to be a lovely blend of flavor and texture. After this one, Haru digs into her bag again and brings out a thermos of green tea. Goro raises an eyebrow.

“You’re certainly prepared, aren’t you?” he says with a smile, accepting a cup from her.

Haru smiles back.

“I just enjoy taking full advantage my personal outings,” she responds, sipping from her own cup. “I don’t…get them very often, you see.”

“Oh?”

Haru seems to hesitate before replying, looking as if she has already said too much. But Goro wants to know more about the member he knows least about (except, perhaps, the cat) and waits for her to continue instead of providing her a change of topic. She seems to deflate a little before squaring back up, rubbing a finger on the side of her cup absently.

“When father was…still alive…I was only allowed to interact with the people that he deemed appropriate. And after his passing, there are numerous things to deal with in regards to the company, and someone is often trying to find me for one reason or another. But it is more often than not that I cannot answer their questions, or do not have a detailed enough answer when I do…at present, everything is extremely stressful and it is difficult to find solace from it.” She falls quiet for a moment before smiling again, though it is weaker than her usual ones. “So quiet and peaceful outings are something of a treasure at the moment.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, averting his eyes. He’s not sure if it sounds genuine enough, just that it’s the right thing to say. “I interrupted such an outing today then, didn’t I?” Goro continues, looking somewhat apologetically at her.

“Not at all, I was the one who invited you, was I not? The company of friends is always appreciated.”

Goro pauses, his cup halfway to his lips. A friend? So she considers him a friend, his company appreciated. The feeling of being called as such is distinctly odd, and…also painful.

“Besides,” Haru says, quieter this time, “I said I wanted peace and quiet, but I did not mean silence. I’ve…had enough of silence.”

Goro thinks of his empty apartment and thinks he knows what she means.

The two of them are quiet, listening to the birds chatter and the distant voices of other parkgoers.

“By the way,” Goro says eventually, “This is very nice tea. It’s a bit different from standard green tea, isn’t it? Might I ask where you bought it?”

Haru smiles. “I’m glad you like it. It’s my own blend, actually. I can give you a tin of it the next time I see you, if you’d like.”

Goro inclines his head, surprised.

“I would…like that. I didn’t know you blended your own tea.”

Haru holds out the thermos and refills his cup.

“Uh-huh, it’s…a hobby, I suppose? I’ve grown to drink coffee more since we meet at Leblanc, but I suppose I’m more of a tea person in general. I keep about forty types at the house for different times of the day, you see, and I suppose when I was younger my curiosity got the better of me so I played around with the brews. I’ve gotten pretty good at it now, so if it’s tea, I can pair it pretty well, like the way Boss pairs his coffee with curry.”

Goro smiles.

“You’ll be formidable if you can also prepare coffee the way Boss does, if you’re his equivalent with tea,” he says, and Haru laughs, pink dusting her cheeks.

“I still have a lot to learn, but I hope to match Boss’ and Akira-kun’s skill one day,” she says. “Oh, if you have time, you should come join our lessons! Boss says you frequent Leblanc, and though it’s always lovely to be served a cup, it’s fun to know the process and details, too.”

Goro’s throat tightens, just a little. She includes him so easily, almost thoughtlessly, as if he might belong there, learning how to brew coffee with her, the owner of Leblanc, and Joker.

“Perhaps, if I have enough room in my schedule,” he demurs, taking a long drink of tea so that he doesn’t have to speak further.

Haru doesn’t press, and changes the topic to the flora around the park area, which she read about in a magazine, wondering if she might be able to add some of the flowers to her garden. Goro asks questions and learns that she grows vegetables on her school rooftop, and he permits himself a laugh at the thought of her breaking the school rules for such an innocent reason.

The time passes easily, and they decide to leave just before sunset. After they ride the train back to Shibuya, Goro offers to walk Haru home, which she politely declines.

“Scandal, you see,” she says apologetically, and a bit sadly. “I, uhm…the process of negating my marriage with Sugimura-san has been…overshadowed by company matters, at present.”

“Ah,” is all Goro says, and wonders if he might be disappointed that they are unable to continue their discussion on exotic plants. “Then…I wish you a safe journey home.”

“You as well. Thank you for today, I enjoyed our outing together,” Haru says with a warm smile, and walks a few steps before turning back to wave.

Goro waves back slowly, watching her silhouette disappear into the distance.

It was enjoyable, he realizes. Peaceful and relaxing. Usually he’s not one to sit around to relax—he prefers more physical exercises so that he doesn’t have to think. But while conversing with Haru, the dark thoughts were kept at bay just as easily, if not more easily. The thought is surprising. He spent quite a few hours with her today, and not once did he wish he hadn’t accepted her invitation.

Perhaps, then, this is what hanging out with friends was like, why his classmates and people in general want to meet up with others and spend the day together.

He feels strangely refreshed, pleased with today’s events.

He thinks he’ll try not to let this happen again.

[ryntaia]

Yutaba idea for you! Write about them taking about their moms, pls? Thank you and have a wonderful day! :3

damn anon that’s a quality prompt with quality timing, happy early mother’s day everyone

/Sayuris harder 

Let’s get going! Under the cut as usual. 

           She saw it every day that she walked into Leblanc.

           The first time, the painting had confused it. It was like a bootleg toy. Futaba had seen pictures of the infamous Sayuri painting online. Forums loved to post it as a piece of classic art, and she had seen various parodies of it online. But the painting that hung in Leblanc was not like that classic piece of art that permeated popular culture. It did not hold mystery but rather affection. Sweet motherly concern as the slim and beautiful woman held a baby in her arms with reverence in her loving eyes. It was so confusing—this was a side of the Sayuri that forums and online galleries had not shown to Futaba ever before.

           When she asked Sojiro about it, he had shrugged and said it was a gift from one of Akira’s friends. When she asked Akira about it, he said it wasn’t his place to tell Futaba about the truth of Sayuri. When she pressed, the quiet leader of the Phantom Thieves simply told her to talk to Yusuke about it. Yusuke! Of all people, it just HAD to be the Inari who had the answer. She knew that the boy was a painter, and that he probably had a comprehensive knowledge of art history, but dear lord was he annoying. All he cared about was his stupid aesthetics. It was so annoying.

           So she didn’t ask.

           But Akira never took no for an answer.

           It was a hot summer afternoon in Leblanc as Futaba sat curled up in the booth seat closest to the painting. Her eyes flitted between the painting and the iced coffee nestled between her fingers, fingers wet with the perspiration from the cup. It was a beautiful painting but somehow it made her feel a bit…uncomfortable at times. There was an intimacy in the painting on the wall that wasn’t in the previous versions she had seen of Sayuri. Sometimes she felt almost like she was voyeuristically peering in on the love between the mother and her child.

           It wasn’t a look she knew personally.

           She loved you, Futaba.

           Futaba shook the conflicting thoughts out of her head, taking a deep swig of the coffee in her hands. From behind the counter, Sojiro gave her a speculative look, but said nothing—he was busy preparing another iced coffee for a rather pompous looking customer. He looked up as the door opened with a sweet ring from the bell; they weren’t getting many customers due to the hot weather, so anyone coming in was a good chance to improve the often lingering profits during the season. The elder man’s face fell into one of annoyance as he realized who it was, turning back to his task at hand.

           Futaba peeked over her shoulder and snickered to herself slightly. Of course Sojiro made such a face. Yusuke Kitagawa, the man of aesthetics, the Inari, the starving artist who never had a penny to spare. Sometimes she wondered why her guardian even let the guy into Leblanc. Every time he came he either ordered nothing or let someone else order him a drink. There were very few occasions in which the Inari came around a café without a friend in tow. Then again, there were very few cafés that he could afford in general.

           Whenever he did come without someone he would just stand there near the door, staring at the painting against the wall. Futaba sighed. What an enthusiast. She supposed she couldn’t down on him for having so much dedication to his craft and to the painting in question. After all, she hadn’t been monitoring the Phantom Thieves too closely during the Madarame crisis, but she had caught that the Sayuri painting meant something of great importance to him. As it would to any training artist, she guessed, especially to the pupil of the man who had claimed to originally paint it.

           Today, though, she was surprised to see that he was alone and yet didn’t cast a single glance at the classic painting. Instead his intense eyes focused in on her. Almost embarrassed, Futaba shuffled to turn around and stare down into the rich coffee and ice chunks in her cup. It didn’t help evade him—he was quickly sitting across from the redhead hacker, gently placing a plastic case down on the table. Futaba’s eyebrow quirked a bit. It looked like it was full of wet brushes. He must’ve come right from one of his classes or…

           “I just came from a life drawing session. If that’s what you’re wondering.” Yusuke stated, noting her careful eyes. Futaba’s eyes immediately directed back down to the iced coffee; he let out a chuckle that was as rich as the brew. The redhead flushed and bowed her head, lip jutting out slightly, pushing back the thoughts of how nice a laugh the artist had and how he really should laugh more. Her lips pursed in annoyance.

           “So what are you doing here, then, Inari?” Now it was Yusuke’s turn to look annoyed. He had never gotten used to that nickname and it seemed like he never would. “Don’t you got like, I dunno, some nude chick painting to put your ‘finishing touches’ on?”

           If the innuendo was not lost on Yusuke, he did not let it show. “Not currently. The models at the life drawing session are underwhelming, to say the least. They don’t capture the pure essence of something like, say…Sayuri.”

           Futaba went rigid, eyes slowly travelling across the table and up the fox’s body until she met eyes with the tall teen. His face was tinted with what almost looked like amusement, as if he had caught her or something. She sighed, letting her thin shoulders relax and slope downwards, knees collapsing against the leather booth seats as she rested into crossed legs.

           “He told you about what I said? About Sayuri?” She mused then paused, extending a finger to point behind her shoulder. “Uh, THAT Sayuri?”

           “Hmm. He said you expressed an interest in the, ah…anomalies of the painting.” Yusuke said as delicately as he could. Futaba groaned. She cared a lot about the odd new family member at Leblanc but somehow, Akira always managed to get things to go the way he wanted—she didn’t even know why she had bothered to resist his suggestions. It had been so annoying at first but at this point she had figured out that it was inevitable. The quiet leader had to have sent Yusuke over to Leblanc while he wasn’t there—Akira was out at a part time job right now.

           So Futaba really had nowhere to duck away to. Akira had taken to locking the attic while he wasn’t there and Sojiro obviously wasn’t going to be of any help. He was having a quiet discussion with the pompous customer. They had retreated back to the small kitchen to the side. Undoubtedly forcefully dragged into a conversation, she figured, but one couldn’t be rude to their customers.

           Really, she knew all her thinking was just dodging the point. She didn’t even know why she was so uncomfortable asking about the painting. Well, she WAS, since the painting made her feel…awkward, and weird, and out of place, but she didn’t want to ADMIT that to anyone. Least of all Yusuke Kitagawa. It seemed like her choices had been limited, though.

           “I’ve seen Sayuri online a lot. It’s a really popular painting. It’s even been parodied a lot on some of the forums I used to go to.” Futaba bundled herself back towards her chest again, resting her elbow on the space between her legs and her stomach. “I’ve never seen a Sayuri like this, though. People on the forums were always talking about how her gaze was mysterious or something…but in that painting, there’s something to gaze at. There’s a BABY. And I…where did Sojiro get this? It has something to do with Madarame’s….uh, cognition, right?”

           “I gave it to Akira. He decided to hang it in Leblanc so I could come see it anytime. It was…Madarame’s treasure.” Yusuke’s smile faltered, his eyes clouding over darkly. Futaba cocked her head to the side. “My…my mother painted it. It was a self portrait she did right before she died.”

           Oh.

           Oh.

           She almost got whiplash with how fast she turned around to stare over the booth at the beautiful woman and her baby. “So that baby is…”

           “Yes.”

           “Did you…?”

           “I don’t remember her, no. But I always was drawn to this painting.” The fond honesty in Yusuke’s eyes was honestly quite astounding; Futaba had not seen that kind of honesty in anyone outside of her family. It was a tender feeling expressed in its full, with no bars held, as he gazed at the long dried paints laid by a woman long past gone. And she couldn’t even find a way to question it; not with the adoration that reflected back at the boy in the eyes of the painted mother. It was a maternal love caught in time and impossible to see as anything else.

           Futaba’s gaze found the floor.

           “…She seems like a great mom.” She mumbled slightly, sliding out of the booth to turn away from the tall teen. Yusuke studied her back contemplatively; the dejected slope of her shoulders, the fingers clasped painfully together, the slightest hint of her profile that told him she was biting her lip. He hummed to himself and tapped his finger against the table, not responding to her statement as she began to hobble towards the door without a word.

           “Wakaba was a great mother in her own way as well, Futaba.”

           The result was instantaneous. The redhead’s body jerked upwards, her arms circling around to her chest as she turned towards him with wide and worried brown eyes. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what she COULD say. It wasn’t like she could say that Yusuke didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, because of COURSE he did, he had been right into the tomb of her mind where she kept her deepest fears of her mother. Even after crumbling that disaster of a Palace, Futaba couldn’t help but be nagged by concerns about her mother now and then.

           Maybe, she thought, maybe that’s why I can’t stop looking at that Sayuri. Because I see a mother in that picture who…

           “My mother was a physically weak woman but she had enough love to make her paint express it. I didn’t know her long but I do know that. She was full of love.” Yusuke was looking past Futaba now, at the painting on the wall. “I didn’t always know that, though. I was only a baby, after all, so I couldn’t even recognize her face in the painting when it was shown to me. And Madarame altered it to keep anyone from ever knowing, to create a mystery. And maybe to the public, that was truly intriguing. But I suppose that to me, to that baby, what she actually made means so much more. Because that’s the love that I could never truly realize she had, the love I couldn’t ever touch with her.”

           “I…Yusuke, I mean…”

           He gave her a broad smile. “Your mother was no painter. But she was a scientist, was she not? A busy woman.”

           “My…memories of her are kind of fuzzy.” Futaba admitted. She couldn’t even figure out why she was telling him this. Maybe it was the sincerity of his words, or maybe it was the honesty of his eyes. “She didn’t have time for me very much. It was rough for her…but I guess you know that. But I…”

           She trailed off. Her eyes latched back onto Sayuri.

           “Futaba.”

           “Hmm?”

           “Everything that Sayuri feels for that baby, your mother felt for you as well. You do not have to look at Sayuri and question that.”

           The hacker stared, open mouthed, at the artist sitting in the booth. Moments later pinpricks of tears burned at her eyes, face scrunching up as her body seemed to cave into itself. She couldn’t even see through the blurry tears, tearing off her glasses to wipe furiously at the chaffing flesh of her cheeks. She had lied to herself looking at that painting. She had told herself that it made her feel uncomfortable to look into the life and love of another but really…Sayuri had just made her sad, made her insecure, made her wonder if her mother had ever looked at her like Sayuri looked at her precious baby. A question she never needed to ask. A question already answered.

           Futaba jolted slightly when she felt arms around her, drawing her into the tall teen’s crisp white uniform shirt. Yusuke had linked his arms underneath hers, drawing the young hacker girl close to him. Her shock quickly washed away as she let out another weak sob, burying her face into Yusuke’s chest as he cradled her. Like a precious thing, like a child, like the way her mother cradled her as a child. Like the love that she had felt from Wakaba but had been tricked into forgetting by criminals and by time itself. She let her tears out there and then, letting it slide that she was almost sure she saw the artist wipe away a few of his own tears.

           And somehow that was all okay. Somehow, when she looked at Sayuri out of the corner of her blurry eyes, the presence of the woman and her baby felt less invasive and more charming and close.

           In the eyes of Sayuri is the adoration of a caring mother.

           A mother like your own.

[manju-girl]

Letters to You pt. 6 (Shigezane X MC X ?????)

@honeybeelily​ @kitty-kat-ty​ here you go dears! a part 6 for you. thank you for reading it this far :(

one | two | three | four | five | six: Lady Maeda

“Oh do forgive me for not introducing myself sooner, I am Ayame. I am Shigezane’s bride.”

Shigezane’s bride.

Oh. That made sense. Right, Ayame. She heard that name before. She was the daughter of that Lord on their neighboring province.

Of course he was supposed to marry a woman of his class too, what was she thinking?

Even though she bears the name of Katakura, she was still a humble cook’s daughter and a page to Lord Masamune. She can’t possibly think of marrying a Date such as Shigezane.

“Ah, yes of course. I am Katakura Akira. It’s a pleasure meeting you, Lady Ayame.” She bowed her head as a gesture of respect to the future Lady Date.

“Please, Aki no need to do that. You must be Lord Katakura’s adopted younger brother. Thank you for taking care of Shigezane.” Ayame giggled. Her voice sounds so gentle, and… cute.

But her?! A brother? Tch. How rude. She thought, but she can’t blame her. She really does look like a man… with her chest binded, a not so feminine voice and hakama. 

Akira raised her head then she saw Shigezane stiffling his laughter. She cleared her throat, and smiled brightly and cheerfully as much as she can to them. Shigezane in return gave her his bright smile. Now her sun has started to rise.

“Ahaha… uh… Lady Ayame and Lord Shigezane, pardon me but I have to go look for something. I’ll see you later then.” They exchanged farewells as the couple proceeded to continue their morning walk and Akira continued to search for Bontenmaru.

-

She went back to the Katakura Residence after a short while, her clothes and hair in a complete disarray, she searched everywhere near the place,only to come back empty handed.

A good morning indeed.

Once again, she slid Kojuro’s door open, to find him feeding the turtle on his damn bowl. She felt the exhaustion and was about to talk when Kojuro spoke first, a relieved smile on his face.

“Ki, Bontenmaru was just hiding himself under his bowl.” Once she saw how happy her older brother is, her exhaustion faded away and was replaced by the comfort and presence of this home she has.

“If Bontenmaru’s fine and eating now, we should also eat, Aniue. Please wait for me while I prepare our breakfast!” She ran down to the kitchen and started to prepare all of Kojuro’s favorite breakfast.

-

Kojuro and Akira spent another peaceful breakfast together. Akira telling him that he should find a lover soon, and him scolding her for being careless and drunk from last night. In the end their bickering turned to laughter. While eating their breakfast, Kojuro noticed how long Aki’s hair got and the hakama she’s wearing now looks worn off.

“We’ll visit the Hachiman shrine soon, Aki. We should get you new clothes. We wouldn’t want Kita-aneue to scold us both now, do we?” Kojuro said, clearly using their visit as an excuse for him to get her a new set of clothes. Upon hearing those words, she smiled, getting another bowl of miso soup.

“KOJUROOOO ANIUEEEE!THANK YOU SO MUCH!I WANT TO SEE KITA ANEUE SOON,TOO! Yes yes… dear brother. I’ll pick a new haka–”

“No Hakama this time, Akira. Kimono and Yukatas are the only articles of clothing allowed,” He said when he finished his meal. He saw her looking disappointed, with a pout she nodded to his orders, and he tousled her hair. “Kita wouldn’t want to see you in a men’s hakama. She wanted to see how grown up our beautiful younger sister had become.” Kojuro can see the happiness in her eyes with what he had said.

“Hey, Kojuro-Aniue. What do you think of me getting married?”

He nearly choked on the green tea he’s drinking, coughing at her question Nope. No. No. No. The idea of Aki getting married was not really a good idea for him, rather, he can’t accept it just yet. He never had a younger sibling to begin with, so he had taken care of her as if she was of their own blood. Yes, she is at that age where she should get married,and a possible candidate has already asked her.

But will she consider Maeda Toshiie? Kojuro knows that Aki had feelings for Shigezane.

“Are you thinking of marrying Maeda Toshiie?” He finally asked when he felt better. His serious gaze on her, she looked at him straight on.

“Ahaha! A joke, Aniue.” She answered, continuing to get the food from the plates. “I have the same resolve as you, Lord Masamune always comes first before anything else.” -

It wasn’t until last night that he knew that his place as her childhood friend, the one who knows her the most has been replaced by none other than the three Date Lords. Not that he had any complaints, it was his fault. That she turned out to be this way, that he’s not the one who’s beside her anymore, her confidant, her childhood friend, her Inuchiyo.

She was supposed to be working at the restaurant her family left behind, not as the Dokuganryuu of Oshu’s page. But because of him, all her dreams have turned into dust.

He was supposed to protect her and her family.

She was just 11 back then. He’s 18.

He still remembers that day, vivid as the crimson skies of sunset, turning to that gloomy and unfortunate night. How her family was murdered right in front of her eyes, when he arrived far too late. How he can’t do anything for the second family he had in Kyoto.

I’m sorry… I’m really sorry…

Ah, who knows how many times have he been saying that to her in his mind? How many sleepless nights and, sorrowful days he’s spent blaming himself. Looking for her, her whereabouts. Is she still alive? Or dead? He does not know. He knows that she loathes him. But he did promise one thing to her deceased family.

If I found her, I’d protect her. I’ll do anything. Just to make sure that she won’t ever get hurt again.

For the safest place for her would be by his side.

Now that she’s within his reach, she still seemed so far away. The years brought them apart. But he won’t let anything or anyone take her away from him.

Inuchiyo looked at the sleeping Keiji on the other side of the room, still passed out from last night’s drinking session. He chuckled at the memories last night, before remembering how Shigezane looked at Akira, and how she looked at him exactly same way as Shigezane. The thought itself was unpleasant, that he went out of their room in the Yonezawa castle for a short walk.

The sky on that morning was clear, the early morning sun sharing its warm, glorious glow on the lands and the people who woke up early to work. Inuchiyo’s eyes wandered all around the well-kept castle, that served as Aki’s home ever since they parted ways.

Then, he remembered it again. He can’t forget the empty look on her eyes, her shivering lips and trembling tiny body. It always brings pain to his own heart. How he wished he could bring back time.

He shouldn’t have left her, he should’ve been with her.

Just as he was near the castle gates, he saw a familiar figure outside the corridor of one of the houses in the castle, he walked closer to see what he thinks is Akira, a bucket of water in hand and on her way to the garden. He followed her, he’s not really sure whether its her or not. Her long hair that was loose last night was tied up in a high ponytail with a red ribbon, and she’s also wearing a hakama…

What is she wearing? He thought. He tried to keep his footsteps light, careful so that she wouldn’t notice him.

“Inuchiyo, if you want to come with me in watering the plants you could’ve just say so.”

“What?!” He was surprised when she turned around to give him a smile, a smile that’s no longer empty, he blushed lightly when he looked in to her gentle yet honest eyes. It’s a good thing, in his guess. That somehow she’s still that girl he knew her to be.

“Good Morning to you too, Inuchiyo. Did you sleep well?“she asked, walking over to him. He glanced around the place, to find it blooming with beautiful summer flowers, he smiled at her, putting his hand on her bangs that almost covers her eyes. “Keiji kept on snoring loudly, but I slept well.” He kept his answer brief. “Ranmaru” his tongue slipped, realizing what he had said, he clapped a hand over his mouth. Did I just accidentally call her Ranmaru?! Blame the hakama and the hair! When did she had a plank chest anyway?!

Her look on him was a deadpanned one, sighing deeply, she spoke. “You… you just mistook me for a man,” it was not a question. It was a statement.

“I… I did not!” He denied, but she giggled, oh gods,how he missed that giggle. “It’s fine,I get that a lot. You want to water the flowers with me, Inuchiyo?” She smiled, handing over the bucket full of water, and a wooden water dipper. Which he gladly took from her hands.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw her touching the flowers gently, carressing its beautiful petals that still has a few droplets of dew from the morning air. He can’t help but smile. Her lips turned up to a sad smile of her own, looking nostalgic at the blooming flowers

But why?

There are so many questions he wanted to ask about her, how she knew how to use a sword, what happened to her in the past 10 years. Is she well? Are they treating her well?

Am I forgiven?

“Inuchiyo.” She called, looking at his direction a silly smile on her face. “Want to spar with me later?” Surprised, he did not know what to answer.

“Oh. You must be busy. Right, let’s just go to the town later. I must prepare Lord Masamune’s breakfast now, I’ll go ahead then!” she hurriedly stood up, and held his hand, which made him surprised. “Huh…?”

“Come with me, Inuchiyo!”

- Shigezane wondered on his actions that morning, when he saw Aki with a morning face he knew he can barely keep his excitement from seeing her. But instead of usually greeting her and spending the rest of the morning with her, he chose not to.

He wondered why, he even invited his future bride on a morning walk. His early morning walks are always spent on Aki.

“Lord Shigezane?” His thoughts stopped when a gentle voice called his name. He smiled at the woman beside him. Sure she’s beautiful, both inside and out. A picture of sophisticated grace.

“Lady Ayame. Do forgive me for spacing out. Is there somewhere you want to go?” He asked, the lady beside him smiled too. Answering his question as she points out the garden ahead of them. Which happened to be the one Akira is taking care of.

“I want to check out that garden, Lord Shigezane. From here you can see all the beautiful summer flowers bloom. It must be lovely up close.” she hooked her arms on his own.

“Oh… aha. Let’s check it out then!” He said with enthusiasm, they walked close to the garden when Shigezane stopped dead on his tracks when he saw Aki running out of the garden , dragging Inuchiyo by hand. The two looked happy.

“Oh, if it isn’t Lord Maeda.” Ayame said, looking at the two ahead of them. “You knew him?” Shigezane asked, “We should greet them. His family was an ally of my father’s.” She answered

Before Shigezane knew it they were walking towards the two, even though he didn’t want to.

“Lord Maeda!” Aki and Inuchiyo stopped running when they heard a voice call out to him.

“Oh. Ayame” Inuchiyo called her casually. Aki turned to the couple, a smile already plastered on her face. Shigezane looked away from them. Not caring to look at Akira

“Oh! Good Morning again, Lord Shigezane, Lady Ayame.” Aki greeted,

“Good Morning to you again, Aki. Lord Maeda it’s been a while, you and Lord Katakura’s younger brother looked like good friends.” Ayame smiled kindly, looking at Akira’s direction. Shigezane was mentally kicking himself for not telling Ayame sooner about Aki’s sexuality.

“Hm? Oh yes. It’s been a while. So you are Lord Date Shigezane’s bride? I heard about this from your father but I did not expect to see you here.” Inuchiyo answered, “Aki? Yes we are close.”Inuchiyo pointed at Akira

That statement made it look like Aki was really a man.

“What brings you here at Yonezawa, Lord Maeda?” Ayame asked once more. Shigezane only knew that Maeda Toshiie was here to visit Aki.

“ I’m here for my bride.” Inuchiyo answered her question briefly. However, answer left Aki looking down at her feet. Ayame and Shigezane were both surprised hearing those.

“Hey… Inuchiyo.” Shigezane saw Aki tug Maeda Toshiie’s sleeve, a look of discomfort in her eyes. Is she blushing?!

Maeda Toshiie stepped closer to Aki, putting his arms around her shoulder. Aki was startled and stiffened.

“You see this woman beside me, the one you called a brother of Lord Katakura will be My bride. The next Lady Maeda.”

[udon0noodle]

Just Right, Just Dream

When you auditioned for JYP you never thought you would actually be accepted. By some deities grace, you did. Traveling with your two best friends to Korea you leave everything in the States behind. A new life awaits you full to the brim with excitement. A dream come true and new love to be found.

Group: GOT7

Pairing: ???xFTM!Reader

A/N: This is my first fic. It started as a dream I had while back it was extremely vivid and I thought why not actually turn it into something. Hopefully I'll actually keep up with this fic, I plan on making it a longer story based one.  This one (as others I have planned to write) includes an FTM reader rather than the normal female reader that is so often found. Maybe it's playing to small of an audience and too self-indulgent. But, to be honest I feel there aren't enough x male reader fics so that's what most of mine will be centered around. Of course, on occasion, i’ll write x female reader fics as well but to start this one will play to a specific audience. I hope you enjoy! 

                                                       CHAPTER 1

    A rush engulfed you as you saw the immense glass building in front of you. Your dreams were coming true, somehow here you were against all odds. Surrounded by friends the next step in your life was beginning. “Holy shit I can’t believe this is happening!”, the beautiful milk chocolate goddess next to you chimes as she gripped your shoulder. “Yeah, Y/N can you believe it?”, you rolled your eyes at the golden-haired woman next to you. She beamed that gorgeous smile she always had.

        The two next to you were your best friends, Kiev and Ten. Ten was a glowing and glistening goddess, her beauty always inspired you and you loved her. Kiev was a kind, gentle and loving person deep in her core, though she hid it under salt. She was a wonderful photographer and of course, you loved her as much as you loved Ten. You could feel your heart race as the three of you walked closer toward the building.

        ‘JYP entertainment’ you read it over and over trying to convince yourself that was, in fact, real. A huge deep sigh later and you walked through the doors. Music filled your ears as you stepped through the threshold to your new life. “Wow….” Kiev’s voice stood against all else and you nodded. People took notice of the three of you…hell here you were some guy just waltzing in with two girls on either side of him. The whispers filled your ears people were wondering if you were to be a new trainee or a collaborating artist.

        Ten lifted her head and walked to a desk perched against the back wall. “Hi!”, she smiled and explained to the receptionist who she and the other two were and why you all were here. The woman pointed to a room without even looking up from her magazine and chewing loudly on her gum. Ten’s face twisted inward and she motioned for the rest of you to follow her You smiled and laughed under your breath. Ten didn’t take shit from anyone and you knew it just as well as Kiev.

        Once again walking the three of you stepped into a room.  A few others were already in the room waiting, they turned their heads the three of you entered.  Two others and from the looks of it seemed to also be very close. “Oh finally. Now we’re only waiting on one more person.”, the person who spoke looked neither feminine or masculine. They threw their hands in the air and sighed.  Their hair was short and didn’t touch their neck and barely covered their ears.  The color reminded you of the clouds it was whitish with a slight tint of a light blue.  They were shorter and came to your mid chest.  “Denix don’t be so rude,” A slightly taller auburn haired women, whose hair was tied half up in a ponytail, spoke.  “Come on, they knew I wasn’t serious.” The one called Denix chimed.

        The door opened again and a woman with plump dark lips and shoulder length silver hair entered.  “N.O.” Everyone looked to her confused and you raised an eyebrow, “That’s my name, N.O.” “Oh!” Ten exclaimed, “That’s so cool!!” She Smiled brightly at the new woman.  Kiev and you both rolled your eyes. “Wait,” Denix chimed in. “I thought this whole shindig was supposed to have just five members?” Ten and you both looked to Kiev and laughed. “She’s not a performer, she’s not really in the group.” Ten giggles pointing to Kiev. “She’s just the photographer.” You answered.

        “Huh? Photographer aren’t there usually different photographers at different shoots?” Denix asked. “Well from what we’ve been told they want to do stuff completely different here… I mean obviously, we’re all foreign.”  You spoke softly.  “Like him!” Ten poked your cheek.  “He’s obviously a guy, while the rest of us- “She stopped as she laid eyes on Denix, “well, most of us are women What was your name again?” She asked the white-haired shorter person.  “Denix, this is Akira.” She pointed to the woman with the auburn hair.  “Anyway!” Ten started up again. You rolled your eyes and shrugged as she continued rattling on.  Ten looked up at you and pouted with a sigh.  “They want to integrate men and women into a group together.”  You spoke up.

        Ten nodded and clapped her hands together, “So, since we’re going to be training together from now on, we should get to know each other, right?!” Her face lit up as she looked around the room. You knew she would have fun here you knew she loved meeting new people. Top that off with how much Kiev, yourself and Ten, desperately wanted change in your lives, and here you were.  On your way to becoming an idol.  The thought of how much you loved to sing and perform flooded your mind.  Ten clasped her hand on your shoulder, “Hey Y/N are you ok you seem pretty out of it.” “Hm? Yeah, I’m fine, I was just thinking all of this is happening so fast.  It’s great, amazing actually, I mean we’re here in Korea. We’re going to be idols.”  You smiled more to yourself than her.

        Everyone’s jaws practically hit the floor.  Being here was insane enough of its own, but now would have the pleasure of meeting your favorite group.  Hell, they were going to be your mentor, you felt as if you could pass out right on the spot from the pure shock.  JYP still hadn't stopped smiling since he walked in, his eyes panned over the room and all of you.  He nodded his head as he left letting a woman take charge.  Her name was Eun Ji and she explained she would be your manager.  After shaking hands with everyone she straightened her pantsuit.  “I’ll be giving each of you your personal mentor, matching them with your talents.”

          Ten’s hand squeezed your shoulder, “Yeah, I know I can't believe this is really happening. I can't believe we’re in the same group.” You nodded and Kiev turned her attention toward the two of you, “What are you two whispering about? Secrets don't make friends y'know.” You rolled your eyes and repeated the conversation to your other friend. The other three watches you three and N.O. lifted her brow. She was curious about what kind of conversation the three of you could be having.  

            She shrugged it off and looked toward the door as you all heard a click. Slowly the door swung open and there he stood JYP himself. A smile formed on his face as he clasped his hands together. “Welcome!” His voice boomed throughout the room. “I hope everyone is doing well.” Everyone nodded and his widened. “Good good. Okay well first off let's start by saying, yes this is a new group I've decided upon. It will have men and women, as well as the normal ‘no dating until after you've been debuted for a while’ will be lifted. This is only because I want to make a change here. I want to show off talented people that can make it in this industry, and that they can be foreign. I would also like to..embrace LGBT communities.” His eyes focused on you.  

           You bit the inside of your cheek. You were gay, and JYP felt a need to embrace that in you, as well as you're being a transgender man. You nodded to him as he spoke the words. He nodded as well, “I hope everyone can get along well. We will be assigning mentors to help you get the hang of things. Luckily they're not working on any comebacks at the moment so they should be free often for you.” Everyone looked to one another confused. “Oh! I never mentioned, yes you will have mentors... It will be Got7.”

           Everyone’s jaws practically hit the floor.  Being here was insane enough of its own, but now would have the pleasure of meeting your favorite group.  Hell, they were going to be your mentor, you felt as if you could pass out right on the spot from the pure shock.  JYP still hadn't stopped smiling since he walked in, his eyes panned over the room and all of you.  He nodded his head as he left letting a woman take charge.  Her name was Eun Ji and she explained she would be your manager.  After shaking hands with everyone she straightened her pantsuit.  “I’ll be giving each of you your personal mentor, matching them with your talents.”

        You knew yourself and your talents.  You already had a pretty good idea of who your metor would be.  Little did you know you were so wrong.  You glanced over to see Ten standing off to the side of everyone quieter than normal.  Something was worng and you wanted to know.  You would soon find out your best friend kept a life altering secret form you.