Archive of Our Own

It started off as a small, dismissible irritation that made its initial appearance during his first week in Tokyo.

At first, Akira didn’t think much of it. With the way his entire life had been turned upside down within the space of a few months, he thought that a few stress headaches were to be expected. After all, he’d been plagued with them since his arrest, and his abrupt transfer from quiet, suburban life in the country to one of the busiest places in the world hadn't done wonders for his nerves. He didn’t sleep properly for weeks until his transfer, nor for a long time after he’d settled into the dusty attic he’d learn to call home.

His first day in Tokyo had been a nightmare. He’d experienced a number of panic attacks that he’d lost count of from the chaos of Shibuya alone, from the noise to the people, to just how alone he felt in such a gigantic place. His parents hadn’t seen him off at the train station that morning, hadn’t answered a single call or text message from him since, and in that moment, he hadn’t felt that helpless and alone since he’d been arrested. It was a miracle that he’d even made it to Leblanc in such a state, let alone conversed with Sakura-san while sounding somewhat coherent, but Akira knew what was expected of him.

He knew he had to make this work, regardless of how unfair his entire situation was, because he had no other choice.

Akira hadn’t slept the night before his transfer. He dragged himself out of bed with sore, stinging eyes and a headache that spiked at his temples whenever he recalled the fact that he was leaving his hometown. Still, Akira did as he was asked and played the part of the soft-spoken, obedient son that his parents wished for. He accepted the fake glasses and the new uniform with a lump in his throat, and pretended like the outfit didn’t feel like another set of shackles digging into his skin.

“It’ll make a good impression on Sakura-san,” his mother had said to him after Akira had gotten dressed and gathered his things by the front door, as if it was normal to send your only child across the country to go live with a stranger, “it’ll show him that you’re taking this seriously.”

Akira had stared at the stranger reflected in his phone screen, adjusted his uncomfortable new glasses, and said a quiet, "I'm heading out, then." 

"Alright." His mother had nodded. "Keep your head down, and don't cause any trouble while you're there. Sakura-san is doing us a huge favour, after all."

Don't cause us any more trouble, is what Akira heard. Don't inconvenience anyone else.

"And make sure you study hard." His father added. "Shujin is a prestigious school, and since it was the only one willing to take you in, you owe it that much."

Akira had nodded and promised that he would, and left for the train station without another word.

His headache seemed to worsen with each passing minute until time itself seemed to slow to a standstill.

It was a hallucination that Akira chalked up to months of sleepless nights taking a toll on his mental state. He stared out across a mass of people that were populating the famous scramble crossing, frozen in place, and saw an image of himself, surrounded by an animated blaze of blue. That version of himself met his own gaze with bright, golden irises in place of his usual grey and shot Akira a chaotic, confident smirk.

Then, just as soon as the double appeared, he was gone. Time resumed not a moment later, and Akira’s headache returned tenfold. He winced, clutching his head, and told himself it was just stress. He’d be fine.

He had to be.

On the morning of his first day of school, the ache was constant. The stress made Akira nauseous and he barely managed to shovel in enough of his breakfast to be polite.

Navigating Tokyo was a nightmare all over again, but he was thankfully on the right track when he ran into Sakamoto for the first time. 

Fifteen minutes later, his perception of reality itself had been thrown out the window.

Ten minutes after that, Akira called upon Arsène, and with those familiar flames, he felt no pain.

For a moment, he felt like a different person. But that wasn’t true, was it? This was his true self.

No wonder he felt like a stranger.

Akira took hold of the chains that surrounded him and his Persona, and, for once, he didn’t feel shackled.

He had never felt so free in his life.

In a short number of days, Akira's vow to keep his head down and stay out of trouble was discarded. Well, at least in the Metaverse, it was.

Sakamoto and Takamaki became Ryuji and Ann, the fastest and closest friends he'd ever made in his entire life. A strange, otherwordly creature became Morgana, his new companion. Together, they became a team, and Akira became a leader. It was a lot to process, a lot to prepare for, and there was a lot on the line.

His eyes seemed to ache more often than not, and with the threat of expulsion now looming over him there wasn’t much he could do other than grin and bear it, along with the stress-induced nausea. If they didn’t manage to change Kamoshida’s heart before their deadline, not only would Ryuji and Akira be kicked out of Shujin, but Akira would get shipped off to juvie the second his probation officer was informed. The thought alone was enough to make his chest tighten into a knot that left him breathless, but as terrifying as the idea was, Akira knew that this was bigger than him.

This was about Ryuji, Ann, and Shiho, who had been through so much trauma at the hands of a teacher that was supposed to look after them.

While he had grown ridiculously fond of Ann and Ryuji in a short amount of time, fond enough to be eager to shield them in a life or death battle, Shiho kept returning to the forefront of Akira's thoughts while they made their way through Kamoshida's Palace. In the wake of her suicide attempt, his outrage toward Kamoshida had somehow increased, as if that were even possible, and he found it difficult not to think of her with each new discovery about the Palace Ruler. 

Akira remembered that Shiho had reached out to him despite the rumours and whispers that followed each step he took. She wasn’t even in his class, she had no reason to even bother glancing his way, let alone speak to him and offer him comfort, but she did. She'd treated him like a person, just for a moment, and he appreciated that more than she’d ever know

He would do whatever he could to help Ann and Ryuji take down Kamoshida for her sake, just as much as theirs.

And, when all of this was over, he would thank her.

Until then, it was quite the responsibility to bear. As their newfound leader, Akira had been placed in charge of all aspects of their infiltration operations, such as when they went to the Metaverse, what curatives they had on stand-by, what weapons and armour they were equipped with...the list went on and on. He'd started keeping track of it all in a notebook he always hid under the crates that made up his sad excuse for a bed, calculating expenses and tracking how often they used and required healing items and lockpicks while his hands were covered in cuts and scrapes from his amateur attempts at crafting his own infiltration tools. They were all still learning how to fight with tips from Morgana, but that meant that they went through a lot of injuries from amateur mistakes.

That meant that the team needed medical supplies over everything else. It was lucky that their shared cognition changed things such as canned drinks and store-bought snacks into curatives, but Akira still needed money to purchase them while keeping himself fed. Sakura-san seemed fine with feeding him curry for breakfast, but lunch and dinner was Akira's own responsibility, and he felt bad enough whenever Ryuji offered to pay for his melon bread for the third or fourth day in a row. He needed a job, something easy that he could manage amidst his studies and his new double life.

Akira rubbed his eyes, pressing his palms against them, as it that would help how much they stung.

He didn't have time for his stress to overwhelm him. There was too much at stake. He needed to step up. He needed to be better.

>>Group Chat: The Holy Trinity, 8:23pm

Akira: Everyone down to go to the Palace tomorrow?

Ryuji: You bet! I can't wait to kick some ass.

Ann: You can say that again.

Ann: Tomorrow is good for me, too. 

Ann: Meet at our usual spot after school?

Akira: Can't wait.

"You sure you're okay?" Morgana asked after Akira put his phone away. "You look tired."

"I'm okay." Akira assured. "I'll head to bed soon, promise."

Morgana seemed pleased at the prospect of Akira having an early night with no pestering required, and made himself comfortable on Akira's bed.

In the meantime, Akira went through his notebook, double checking everything that he needed to pick up before their next infiltration. He'd leave a little earlier in the morning, and pick up what he could at the train station before he met up with Ann and Ryuji on the way to Shujin. If he was desperate enough with his minimal funds, Akira could at least afford a few packs on band-aids and a drink or two and pray that their cognition would change both items into something useful. While he remembered, he made a mental note to check for job flyers, and tucked the book back in its place.

Morgana beamed at him when he finally crawled into bed, taking his place on Akira's chest before happily dozing off.

Akira massaged his temples, hoping he was doing enough for his team, hoping that tomorrow they'd survive the Palace on what little they had.

By the time he met up with Ann and Ryuji, Akira was starting to see that his third eye - an ability gifted to him by Igor - had perks in both the Metaverse and the real world.

It'd helped him track down a stand with job flyers in the ever-busy, ever-crowded station, it'd helped him find the thankfully on-sale curatives he was looking for in no time at all, and it'd helped him find Ann and Ryuji amidst all the salarymen shoving their way through the crowds. He'd just focused on what he wanted, and the ability had activated as swiftly as it usually did in the Metaverse. It almost felt like it was too good to be true - that the ability that had saved their asses more than a few times in the Metaverse when it came to warning them about enemies far too strong for them could also help him with his civilian life. It felt like a second wind, a much-needed boost that let him forget about his exhaustion and stress levels for at least a little while.

Now, he was focused on finding out what he could use his third eye for next. 

When their train came, Ryuji and Akira went first, finding a space amongst the crowd where Ann could stand between them so they could ensure no would-be creep could get near her. After they settled in for the ride, the four of them, (including Morgana who was more than happy to cause Akira mild but persistent back pain so he could be carted around in Akira's bookbag) went over their plans in hushed voices. They'd made some good progress considering their inexperience, and Morgana theorized that they were almost halfway through their infiltration.

It was both good and bad news to Akira and the others. It was clear that all of them were hoping they were at least past the halfway point of the Palace, but it couldn't be helped. They barely knew what they were doing, and some days it felt like Morgana thought their slow progress was a miracle for three newbies who didn't know how to fight or sneak around that well yet.

He wasn't too shy about looking down on them about it, either.

"You guys just need to be patient," Morgana was whispering, "I know you're stressed, but rushing it won't help. It might just get us all killed."

It was a sobering thought. Sometimes it all felt so fantastical that it was easy to forget how often their lives were in danger.

"...We could go this afternoon," Akira suggested after a moment, "take tomorrow off, and go again on Friday."

"And then take Saturday off, and... Yeah," Ryuji nodded, "if we get into a routine, we won't get as burnt out."

"I think it's a good idea." Ann agreed. "As long as we remember to rest up enough on our days off."

Morgana took that moment to pointedly nudge Akira through his bookbag, and Akira masked his resulting snort of laughter with a cough. Ann and Ryuji didn't seem to notice.

Once they made it to Shujin, and Akira and Ann parted ways with Ryuji to head to their classroom, Akira wasted no time in testing out what else his third eye would pick up on.

Ann lit up in a blaze of blue each time she appeared in his direct line of sight or peripheral vision, which was nothing new, but so did other things once the bell rang. Certain posters around the classroom and key points of writing on the blackboard lit up whenever his teachers asked him a question that he needed help with, his third eye offering hints and ideas as to where the answers might lie. During lunch, it highlighted the most nutritional menu options at the canteen as if it was trying to encourage him to eat something more substantial than melon bread, and did the same for the drinks in the vending machine, which made him laugh.

He at least followed the guidance for what drinks he chose to buy, hoping that they'd benefit the team in the Metaverse.

After school, Akira didn't need his third eye to find Ann and Ryuji, he'd learned their habits enough to know where each of them ended up after the bell had rung. Together, they went to their usual hideout, steeled their nerves, and headed out into the Metaverse. After going over curatives and swapping looted armour and accessories, they were off.

It wasn't long after Morgana had proudly announced that they'd passed the halfway mark when Akira felt a flare of pain behind his eyes, present in one moment, gone the next.

He'd been scanning the latest hallway they'd encountered for potential loot, and swiped what he'd found the moment he had an opening. It wasn’t worth any more than a slight grimace before he pushed on, ignoring the strange second of confusion. Akira blamed it on fatigue, as they’d been fighting their way through Kamoshida’s Palace for at least over an hour by this point. Security seemed to be rising with each of their infiltrations, which meant that each attempt was more of a pain than the last. He rolled his shoulders, and ducked his head around the corner of the next area.

When Akira activated his third eye to size up an intimidating-looking Shadow as it marched into view, the pain came back again. It was slightly stronger than the previous time, and lingered slightly longer, but it vanished just the same. Akira blinked a few times to nudge the discomfort away just as Ann's hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"What's the play, Joker?"

Akira readied his dagger. "We've got this." He said, and with that, he charged forward, leading his team into a fight that was just on their level.

By the time they'd cleared out the chapel, and dragged themselves to the first Safe Room they came across in the tower, Akira felt exhausted. 

He slumped into the first chair he found, taking off his mask so he could rub his stinging eyes. 

Ann and Ryuji were joking about doubling back to destroy the statue of Kamoshida in the chapel in the most elaborate way possible, while Morgana chided them about how beaten up they were from the last fight. After putting his mask back on, Akira took a sip from one of the drinks he'd bought earlier that day, glad that the Metaverse's weird magic kept them nice and cold. He looked over to his friends, who had moved on to talk about the powerful Shadow they’d just faced, well, more like celebrate their victory over it, and Akira noticed that he had to turn his head to see Ryuji’s face, as a quick glance in his peripherals didn’t quite do the trick. For a second, the development didn’t register either, so he turned his head again.

Weird, Akira thought. It wasn’t dark or anything in the Safe Room, but for a second he'd swore he just...couldn’t see Ryuji out of the corner of his eye, even though Ryuji was sitting right beside him. That didn’t make sense. Frowning in thought, Akira kept Ryuji in his line of sight as the latter joked with Ann and Morgana, then glanced to the side out of the corner of his eye. And, to his confusion, Ryuji was gone again. 

Akira knew that couldn't have been right.

Testing it again, he lifted a hand beside his head and let it edge further away bit by bit, and then went still. He couldn’t see it within his normal field of vision like he knew how he should be able to.

His peripheral vision was gone, Akira realised with a strange, startling kind of clarity.

What the fuck?

He expected the usual, sudden stinging pains here and there that accompanied headaches like the one he currently had, not...whatever this was.

It didn’t make sense, and it didn’t seem like an ailment either. It was too specific, and usually the status effects they had encountered in battle never affected their vision.

This? This was too specific. It couldn't have had anything to do with the Metaverse, but he did know one thing that was tied to both that, and his sight.

Akira activated his third eye, and suddenly, it made sense. Pain flooded his senses, waves of colour flooded his vision and dizziness almost immediately overtook him. He deactivated the ability as soon as he was able to, but the damage had been done. His eyes burned, his temples pulsed with every beat of his heart. He breathed in slow and out even slower, hoping that it would fade soon.

Slowly, but surely, it started to, but the process was long and agonizing and he couldn't take it. Akira folded his arms on the table, and buried his face into them to block out the light.

"Joker?" Ann asked. "Everything alright?"

He could only grunt back, breathing slowly through gritted teeth. 

"You okay, man?" Ryuji asked next, sounding closer than he had a moment ago. "What's up?"

"He's probably just tired." Morgana mused. "We've worked pretty hard today, after all. Maybe we should call it a day."

"Sounds good to me." Ann agreed, sounding relieved, "I burnt through the last of my stamina in that last fight anyway, so I'm beat."

"I hear ya, I'm runnin' on fumes, too." Ryuji said. "So, what do you reckon, Joker? We headin' home?"

"Yeah," Akira breathed, "let's head back." 

“We’re getting pretty close to the Treasure, now. I can sense it.” Morgana announced as the team returned to the real world. He glanced back at Shujin from where the group was huddled in an adjacent alleyway, still amazed that someone could think of such a place as a castle. “With one last push, this’ll all be over.”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Ryuji grinned, rolling his shoulders. “I can’t wait to see the bastard confess his crimes.”

“Neither can I.” Ann beamed, just as excited. “We’re so close!”

“You guys have been doing well.” Morgana allowed, his tone teasing. “Y’know, for rookies.”

“Pfft,” Ryuji snorted, “can it, Mona.”

The moment was cut short when Akira let out a quiet, wounded sound and collapsed against the brick wall behind him. He clutched his head as the others turned to him in a panic.

“Whoa, Akira-” the smile vanished from Ryuji’s face within that same instant. “Hey, what’s wrong?!”

“I’m fine,” Akira gasped. The reassurance was instinctive, and it made Ryuji scowl, “just tired.”

“Yeah, no, that’s bullshit.” Ryuji squeezed his shoulder, looking him over. “You're strugglin' to stand up, man.”

“Here, Akira, sit down.” Ann crouched down, brow pinched in concern as Akira simply sank to the ground at her request. “I think I have some painkillers in here somewhere...” she trailed off, digging through her bookbag.

“I’ve got water, too. Gimme a sec.” Ryuji started searching through his own bag. “It prolly ain’t cold, but it’ll be better than nothin’.”

Meanwhile, Morgana peered up at Akira, tilting his head to the side. “What’s really going on?” He asked, worried. “You seemed fine a minute ago.”

“Head hurts.” Akira forced out, squeezing his eyes shut. He didn’t think he could manage more than that.

“Here.” Ryuji said as he set his water bottle down beside him, comfortingly rubbing Akira’s arm.

“Should we go back for a second?” Ann directed her question at Morgana. “He might’ve been hit with something that we didn’t see, and if that’s the case, we can just heal him, right?”

“No, I don’t think this has anything to do with the Metaverse.” Morgana said thoughtfully. “He would’ve shown symptoms earlier, if that was the case.” He frowned. “...I think.”

“That again?” Ryuji groaned, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Mona, this is important!”

“I know that!” Morgana snapped. “But this hasn’t happened before! How am I supposed to know what’s going on?”

“Not the time, you guys.” Ann hissed at the duo, who both winced as Akira flinched away from their raised voices. “Akira is probably just tired from all the time we’ve been spending in the Palace lately.” She nudged Akira to get him to look up again, and handed him two tablets that he took without hesitation. “Maybe he just needs some rest.”

The crease in Ryuji’s brow deepened as Akira pressed his forehead against his knees, hugging them to his chest, knuckles turning white as he curled his hands into fists. Ryuji sighed, then got to his feet. “I’m gonna head to the vending machine,” he said to the others, “and get him something cold for his head.”

“Good idea.” Ann said in approval, and Ryuji beelined for the nearest machine not a second later. 

Morgana bumped his head against Akira’s shin. “You’re going to be okay, right?” He murmured, half to himself.

Akira didn’t respond, but Ann smiled and scratched Morgana’s ears. “He will be, Morgana.” She promised. “It’ll take a while for the painkillers to kick in, but after that, and some rest, he’ll be alright.”

“Yeah…” Morgana mumbled. “Yeah, I hope so.”

Silence fell over them for a moment until Ryuji returned, crouching down beside his teammate, frowning in concern. He leaned forward, brushing some of Akira’s hair back from his temple, and gently pressed the can of soft drink he’d just bought against the pale skin he uncovered. Akira flinched at the sudden chill, and then relaxed, some of the tension in his shoulders fading at the touch of the makeshift ice pack.

“Thank you.” Akira whispered.

“Don’t mention it, man.” Ryuji assured. “We’ve got your back.”

“We’re teammates, after all!” Morgana reminded. “We look after our own.”

“And we aren’t going anywhere.” Ann promised. “We’re here for you, no matter what.”

Akira smiled and told himself his sudden tears were from the pain, not the sudden warmth in his chest.

“As with all unfamiliar things,” Igor’s voice carried through just as Akira opened his eyes, the latter blinking dazedly at the sound, “there is a period of adjustment one must go through.”

Akira often thought it was strange how Igor knew each of his questions before he had a chance to voice them, but chose not to comment. His vision blurred as he sat up, his stomach turned at the movement, and he struggled to keep his focus on his mentor as the Velvet Room spun into a dizzying kaleidoscope of blue.

He clutched his head as another wave of pain crashed over him, and for a moment he pondered how ironic his position was. It reminded him of his first visit here when he’d awoken to a pain much duller than this, but from the same source nonetheless. His temples had pulsed with the first signs of his body adjusting to the third eye before he’d even become aware of its existence. Igor had officially presented the thief’s tool to Akira later that same week, but Akira had been feeling his eyes sharpen with each passing day.

He’d felt the change from the moment he awoke from what he’d once considered to be just a strange dream.

Caroline and Justine studied their prisoner, exchanged a glance, and returned their attention to their master. It seemed that the attendants were aware Akira couldn’t summon the strength to drag himself to his usual place at the entrance of his cell, not when each movement rendered him feeling faint and nauseous, and therefore didn’t wait for him to do so. He was grateful for that.

“I suggest you allow yourself time to adapt to your new abilities,” Igor continued as Akira struggled to keep his eyes open, “or an untimely Ruin may prevent you from completing your rehabilitation.”

“You use the gifts our Master bestows upon you without thought or gratitude,” Caroline spat, sending him a venomous glare over her shoulder, “for yourself, or for him. How foolish.”

“Nothing comes without cost.” Justine said thoughtfully. “It would be wise to remember that.”

Take your time, the residents insisted as Akira began to doze off again, there is still much to learn.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur.

All Akira knew was that in one moment, he was in an alleyway near Shujin, and in the next, he was outside Leblanc. When he zoned back into the conversation, Morgana was reassuring Ann and Ryuji that he'd make sure Akira would head straight to bed, and that no, they didn't need to come inside to take care of him. Morgana had it handled, apparently.

 "...and Akira's still on thin ice with his guardian enough as it is," Morgana was saying, "I don't know how he'll react to Akira bringing guests over without asking..."

"...considering the guy probably thinks of Akira as a bad kid with a criminal record..." Ann mused, "Yeah, I don't want to risk making his opinion of Akira even worse."

"Akira?" Ryuji noticed that he was more alert, bringing the others' attention to Akira, too. "Hey, dude, how are you?"

"Ready to sleep." Akira joked with as much energy as he could muster.

"Yeah, I'll bet." Ryuji nudged him. “You scared the hell outta us back there, y'know.”

"Sorry." Akira felt his face warm.

"Don't be!" Morgana huffed. "It's not your fault."

"You put too much on your own shoulders, sometimes." Ann said. "I mean, none of us would've been upset if you wanted to leave a little earlier, so next time, let us know if you're feeling bad."

"We're a team and all," Ryuji agreed, "so it's our job to take care of each other. Including our leader." 

Akira managed to smile at that. "I know. Thanks, guys."

"Don't mention it." Ryuji gave him a quick one-armed hug. "We're gonna head home, so let us know how you are, okay?"

“Text us if you need anything.” Ann said, squeezing Akira's arm comfortingly once Ryuji stepped back. “I mean it, Akira. You always have our back, so let us have yours.”

"I will." Akira nodded. "Thanks for today, everyone." 

After they said their goodbyes, and waved Ann and Ryuji off before they headed to the station, Akira rubbed his temples, wincing at bit.

"You don't have to do that, you know." Morgana said quietly. "Hide your pain from everyone, I mean. Just because you're the leader, it doesn't mean you have to do everything alone."

Akira felt compelled to say "Yeah, I know." but that wasn't how he viewed things. In his mind, he felt like he was failing at being a leader as much as he failed at everything else.

Instead, he kept quiet, ducking into the cafe and heading straight to bed under Sakura-san's pointed gaze. After he took off his uniform and put on his pyjamas, he dwelled on Justine's words.

"Nothing comes without cost."

In hindsight, Akira knew he shouldn’t have been surprised that something so valuable would come with a cost.

He would never be lucky enough to have the world grant him something like that for nothing.

“Are you okay?” was the first thing that Morgana asked after noticing Akira was awake.

Akira’s response was a quiet groan that he struggled to suppress, something that sounded in the back of his throat as quickly as a sharp pain behind his eyes tightened his features into a grimace.

It didn’t take long for Akira to realise his headache hadn’t lessened overnight like he hoped it would. Instead, it felt like the opposite had occurred, and splatters of colour danced across his vision when he tried to sit up. The movement alone prompted a twinge at his temples that was strong enough to make him pause, a hand flying to his head as his eyes watered at the unexpected intensity.

“Akira?”

A wave of nausea made Akira falter before responding, “Yeah.”

I’m fine, was what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the strength to, I’ll be fine.

“You don’t look so good.” Morgana said quietly, concerned. “Seriously. Maybe you should stay home today.”

If Akira looked half as bad as he felt, then that was a severe understatement. He almost smiled at the idea of cutting class, though, because what a hysterical concept it was. No matter how painful the idea was to stomach, regardless of his pre-existing nausea, Akira had to go to school if he wanted to keep a roof over his head. After his and Ryuji’s chaotic first trip to the Metaverse, Akira was on thin ice with Sakura-san and he wasn’t too keen to push his luck any further. It was a miracle he hadn’t been thrown out already.

Akira knew that this was different since he now had a valid excuse, but whether or not his reluctant guardian would believe he was sick was another factor altogether. With their current relationship, or lack thereof, he couldn’t see Sakura-san doing so, let alone phoning Shujin on his behalf and sorting out all the other formalities that surrounded a student’s absence when said student was on probation. Worst case scenario, Sakura-san would view the whole thing as some elaborate lie to skip school (again), and Akira would be out on the street before Leblanc was even open for the day.

He closed his eyes, pressing his face into his pillow to shield them from the sun, and took a few moments to breathe and reassure himself that he wasn’t going to vomit all over his bed. He sure as hell felt close to it, but didn’t know if that was from the migraine or the general cloud of anxiety he’d been strangled by since his arrest. It had faded a little since Ann and Ryuji had come into his life, but hadn’t disappeared completely.

Sometimes he wondered if it ever would.

Akira’s back-up alarm jerked him back into wakefulness and he reached for it blindly, silencing it as fast as he could without opening his eyes. The damage, however, had been done. Fire raced from one side of his skull to the other, branching out in waves that caused a whimper he took a moment to quell. He felt pathetic, curled up on his side, almost bedridden and shaking from the pain of something as mundane as a migraine when he’d been facing death in the Metaverse for days on end. It all seemed so ridiculous.

Irritated at himself or the situation, he couldn’t tell, but Akira’s instinctive reaction to his own tears was to wipe them away in frustration. The decision was one he regretted immediately since his own movements were rough with anger, causing his head to spin, his vision to blur, and his world to darken for a terrifying moment.

Then, he was back, blinking the darkness back rapidly, his breath caught in his throat.

Uniform. His next thought was sudden, and it filled him with dread. Right. He needed to get dressed.

Morgana was gone when Akira glanced around the attic, seeming to have vanished in the couple of minutes that Akira had passed out for, but his companion’s whereabouts weren’t his current priority.

Akira braced himself on the shelves he’d hung his uniform up on while he reached for it, moving as slow as he could. He wasn’t sure if he could stand without the support, not when each step he took felt like a chore. Frustrated tears dampened his lashes while he got dressed, from the pain, the nausea, how awful he felt, and how he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed even if it meant dragging himself there.

Every little noise made him flinch and cringe away from it, sparking another branch of pain across his skull, and the thought of going downstairs made him uneasy, let alone making it to Shujin. First, he’d have to deal with Sakura-san, and then there was breakfast. Curry, to be specific. The thought of the smell was enough for his nausea to rise again and Akira clapped a hand to his mouth out of reflex.

He couldn’t do this.

He had to do this.

Akira grimaced as the ache behind his temples spiked again, taking a slow, deep breath while he waited for it to lessen. He made a mental note to stop at the pharmacy on the way to Shujin, since he didn’t have any painkillers left and knew he wouldn’t make it through Kawakami’s roll call without some. They’d run out yesterday afternoon, in Kamoshida’s Palace. Akira was pretty sure most of the curatives had been used on himself when his initial symptoms had started to slow him down.

He hated the idea of running out of potential infiltration supplies, especially since even something as simple as band-aids turned out to be useful for injuries in the Metaverse, but it was difficult covering all of that while also feeding himself. He’d been surviving on instant ramen since his transfer, and whatever he didn’t spend on food went into equipment and medicine. If Sakura-san didn’t make him curry every morning for breakfast, Akira knew he’d probably be going to school on an empty stomach, and that thought led him back to stressing over his next course of action. Breakfast.

The short walk downstairs felt like a marathon. Akira had to pause a few times just to let his vision clear, leaning against the wall more times than he’d care to admit. The low hum of the morning news was painful before he’d even reached the bottom step, but once he had Akira was faced with the realisation that he didn’t know if he could make it to Shujin. He felt exhausted as it was, moments from collapse just from the last few steps alone. Navigating his way through a rush hour-crowded train station seemed impossible, and that was if he even made it there without passing out.

Sakura-san lifted his head when Akira ceased his internal debate long enough to turn the corner. Morgana sat at his guardian’s feet, lapping up his breakfast, but he looked up at Akira with visible concern. 

“Finally, you’re up.” Sakura-san didn’t sound impressed, but that wasn’t unusual.

Akira eyed the steaming plate of curry waiting for him, and tried to hold back his unease.

“Sorry.” The apology sounded quiet and pained, his voice cracking halfway through. Akira cleared his throat, but didn’t try again. He didn’t have the energy to. Instead, he sat down and told himself he could manage a bite or two just to please Sakura-san. He couldn’t refuse the man’s kindness, as little of it as he was being shown, not when he didn’t deserve the breakfast made for him each morning by a man who clearly had better things to do than care about the juvenile delinquent in his attic. “Thanks for the food.”

Sakura-san hadn’t returned his attention to the TV. He was too busy studying Akira. “You alright, kid?”

Akira must have looked worse than he thought if Sakura-san of all people was checking on him, but that didn’t change anything. Sakura-san had made it clear he wasn’t going to take care of Akira, no matter what, and Akira didn’t expect nor want him to. He could look after himself, he’d been doing so for years.

“Rough night.” was all Akira managed, lifting a spoonful. He slowly took a bite, willing his stomach to settle. He just needed to take as much time as possible to be able to use the excuse of needing to leave to catch the train so he didn’t have to finish his plate. The situation was a little upsetting, though. There was no better post-Metaverse pick-me-up than Sakura-san’s curry, after all, and the fact he couldn’t enjoy the taste like usual was disappointing, especially since Akira couldn’t stomach another mouthful.

"Sorry Akira," Morgana said at his feet, "I tried to signal that something was wrong, but he just thought I was trying to get food."

Akira gave him an understanding nod, knowing he couldn't exactly respond to him without looking insane in Sakura-san's presence.

He cringed a little at the volume of the news report when Sakura-san turned the TV up to listen to it, feeling his head throbbing. Akira sipped his coffee, attempting to act normal, but a quick glance at the screen left waves of colour blurring his vision, and he had to take a moment to blink them back. He pushed his food around his plate with his free hand, shrinking under Sakura-san’s gaze until eventually giving up.

“I should go.” Akira said, placing a hand on the counter to steady himself. “I’m going to be late.”

“You’ve barely touched your food.” Sakura-san huffed.

“I’m not hungry. I’m sorry.” Akira knew that Sakura-san could see through the lie but his head hurt too much for him to think of one that was more convincing.

“Any other day you’d be inhaling the stuff.” Sakura-san muttered, irritated. “Listen, if you’re sick or something, that’s none of my business, but if you are, stay away from my customers, got it?”

“Yeah.” Akira swallowed. “Sorry.”

“Akira, seriously...” Morgana jumped up onto the stool beside him, huffing. “You look awful. Stay home. Tell him that you're not okay!”

Akira shot him a look to let Morgana know that wasn’t happening - if anything, Morgana should’ve been just as aware of Akira’s situation as Akira himself was - and patted his bag instead of replying. With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Morgana got in, and Akira slung the bag over his shoulder, turning on his heel.

He could do this.

>>Group Chat: The Holy Trinity, 7:23am

Ann: Akira, I swear if I see you at school today, I’m personally dragging you back to Yongen-Jaya.

Ryuji: Seconded! Seriously, man, I hope you’re in bed.

Akira: I’m on the train as we speak.

Ryuji: Dude.

Ann: Oh my god.

Ann: Why am I not surprised?!

Ryuji: ¥1000 says he doesn’t make it to second period.

Ann: Ryuji, we’re not betting on how long it takes our friend to pass out from pain!

Akira: It’s not that bad.

Akira: And hey, I think I’ll at least make it to lunch.

Ryuji: Hahaha, we’ll see.

Ann: Akira!!

Ryuji: C’mon, Ann, don’t act like you don’t want in on this.

Ann: …

Akira: Well?

Ann: Third period.

Ann: And that’s if you’re lucky.

Akira: Brutal.

Akira: You’re on.

The lunch bell jolted Akira from his impromptu nap, and he sat up with a swiftness at the sound that made his head spin. Grimacing, he massaged his throbbing temples as students began to filter in and out of the room, blocking out the noise of their scattered conversations as much as he could.

“Hey, Akira?”

He flinched at the sudden touch of a hand resting on his shoulder, and looked up to see Ann’s concerned expression swim into focus. He had to blink a few times before the image of her shifted from three blurred versions of her to one, and even then his vision still wasn’t quite clear.

“Akira,” she said softly, the tone of her voice implying that this wasn’t the first or second time she had tried to get his attention, “are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine.” He replied, just as quiet, nervous the sound of his own voice would worsen his headache. And it did. Even the slightest of sounds, from flicking through the pages of his notebook to the subdued noise of his desk neighbour using her pencil sharpener seemed to trigger another sharp stab of pain.

“You’re obviously not.” Ann huffed, but she still kept her voice down regardless of her clear irritation at his stubbornness. He was grateful beyond words for that, due to the wave of affection he felt at her mindfulness and the fact that every syllable he managed to utter required effort he no longer had to give. “C’mon, I’m taking you to the nurse.” She continued, gesturing for him to get up. “We have social studies next and Ushimaru will lose it if he notices you taking a nap. Which he will, since he’s got it out for you.”

Who doesn’t? Akira would have quipped if it was any other day, but it wasn’t. Instead, he responded with a tired, accepting smile and she chalked it up to a win. Ann reached for the things he had scattered across his desk from their previous classes, packing his belongings up for him before he had a chance to himself. When Ann was satisfied that she had packed everything, and that Morgana wasn’t irritated by a misplaced notebook or pencil, she slipped his bag over her shoulder and sent Akira a comforting smile.

“Let’s get you to bed.” She said, and Akira felt his chest tighten.

He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve her.

Ann offered a hand after he hesitated to get up, and Akira took it, knowing he needed the help. He got to his feet, but misjudged his footing, and stumbled for a moment. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and the next thing he knew, the floor was a lot closer than it had been before, and his knee was aching from the impact of his weight slamming it into the ground.

“Akira!”

Nausea swelled in his throat from the movement and Akira shut his eyes tightly, pressed his forehead into his propped-up knee, and willed for it to pass. He dug his fingernails into his palms to chase it and the sudden lightheadedness away. Pressure appeared at his back, Ann’s hand tracing comforting circles between his shoulder blades, and Akira felt it rise and fall with each rapid breath he took. The general volume in the classroom shot up in the same instant, frantic, confused questions filling his ears as the queries of his nosy classmates rose into a painful, ever-present buzz that he struggled to make sense of.

Akira grimaced at the spike in the ache behind his eyes, ducking his head. He felt something soft press against the back of his head and his forehead, and a strong, sweet smell invaded his senses. Ann’s perfume. He could tell that she was keeping his head down and his face against her shoulder, blocking out the light in the classroom and allowing him to rest all of his weight against her.

She must have remembered how he’d acted yesterday, and was doing her best to block out the triggers she was aware of. Akira’s eyes burned with fresh, grateful tears that he struggled not to dampen her jacket with.

“Don’t you all have better things to do?!” Ann snapped at their peers, careful not to raise her voice.

The gossiping quietened down at that, and Akira almost smiled at the thought of their loud-mouthed classmates looking properly scolded. After all the grief they’d given him, Ann, and Ryuji, they deserved it. 

“Hey… Akira?” Ann prompted after a while, still rubbing his back in slow, careful motions.

“I’m okay,” He said in reflex, which was a moronic choice of words given his current state.

“Stop saying that.” Ann whisper-hissed. “It’s okay not to be, y’know.” She let out a sigh. “Here, let’s-”

“No-” Akira choked out after she started to move, the words coming out as a whimper. His face reddened in embarrassment, as if he could be mortified even further than he already was with all of this happening in front of a crowd of his least-favourite people. He clapped a hand to his mouth when the nausea returned, and Ann paused, waiting it out with him.

After a while, he settled, and allowed Ann to help him up. He slid an arm around her shoulders as she put one around his back, keeping him close. He kept his head down and tried his best to ignore the stares and whispers that followed them the entire walk to the nurse’s office, even though he knew he wouldn’t remember most of it with how much his head hurt.

Things were a blur from then onward, regardless. Akira felt as if he’d closed his eyes for a moment, and when he’d opened them again, he was in one of the infirmary beds. Ann sat at his side with a soft, sympathetic smile, and Morgana darted out of his bag the moment the nurse left the room just so he could curl up at Akira’s side.

“...and I’ll tell Kawakami that you’re not well.” Ann was saying when Akira zoned back in. “She’ll probably call your guardian, too, so he can pick you up.”

Akira frowned, shaking his head and immediately regretting it. “No,” He said, “Sakura-san has the cafe-”

“And you’re obviously having a mirgraine! Akira, you can barely stand on your own.” Ann huffed. “You’re not walking home like this. I won’t let you, and I’m sure as hell that your guardian wouldn’t let you if he heard how unwell you were, no matter the circumstances.” She looked up at the sound of the bell ringing, Akira cringing at the noise, and she sighed. “Just focus on resting up, okay? Please?”

“C’mon, leader,” Morgana nudged Akira with his head, “you’ve pushed yourself hard enough as it is.”

“It’s okay to take a break every now and then.” Ann added, leaning over and squeezing his hand. He turned it over and properly laced their fingers, smiling a little at the light blush it brought to her cheeks, and how her expression softened as she looked at him. “Seriously, with everything you put on your plate I’m surprised this didn’t happen earlier.”

“He gets stress headaches all the time,” chimed in Morgana, the traitor, “they’ve just never been this bad.”

“You do?!” Ann exclaimed, looking horrified. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Akira turned his focus to Morgana, frowning. “I never told you about my headaches.” He said, confused.

“Well, we live together, y’know.” Morgana said, somehow having the audacity to smile at him. “Obviously I was going to notice that something was up. It just took a little while.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Akira snorted.

“Hey,” Kawakami poked her head in the doorway, keeping her voice hushed, “Sakura-san has been notified, Kurusu-kun. He’s on his way.”

“Thanks.” Akira said, hoping she knew it meant it was both for telling him, and for being quiet.

She seemed to understand, nodding with a smile. “Anytime. You’re free to stay here as long as you want to, Takamaki-san. Just make sure you don’t fall behind in the classes you miss.”

“Thank you, sensei.” Ann seemed relieved she was allowed to stay.

Then, Kawakami slipped back out into the hallway, leaving Ann, Akira, and Morgana on their own.

Ann was tracing patterns into the back of Akira’s hand absent-mindedly. “I’m going to yell at you the second your migraine goes away, you know." She said. "For lying about how bad it was."

Akira chuckled at that. “I know.”

“Good.” Ann smiled. “Sakura-san might be a while depending on the traffic, so feel free to rest until then.” Her thumb ran over his knuckles. “I’ll stay until then, don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” His eyes slipped closed, and he felt the barest of touches of fingers running through his hair before he was out.

"You look like shit, kid." was Sakura-san's assessment when he came to pick Akira up from the front office.

It made Akira snort, despite it all. He quietly watched his guardian sign the required forms before he followed him to the car.

Akira did his best to sleep during the drive, and Sakura-san was kind enough to turn off the radio and stay quiet, mindful of his charge's migraine. The journey was mercifully quick, with Sakura-san making a brief stop in Yongen, returning with a plastic bag that had Takemi's clinic's logo on it. He followed Akira upstairs to the attic, not saying a word even though it was painfully obvious Akira had to place most of his weight on the wall to keep himself upright. It was embarassing to be in such a state in front of him, and Morgana, to be fair, but there wasn't anything Akira could do about it. He was somewhat grateful for the awkward silence once he finally made it to the attic, leaning on the desk to support himself as he took off his shoes. 

Even if Sakura-san wasn't there, Akira would've been in too much pain to bother getting out of his uniform, so he simply left his jacket on the couch and crawled into bed.

Sakura-san carried the chair beside his desk and the stool tucked under it over to his bedside, taking a seat in the chair first. He dropped his bag from Takemi's clinic onto the floor, dug through it, and then placed the contents onto the stool. From what Akira could see, he'd bought painkillers, a few bottles of water, an eyemask, and some cold gel sheets. Akira's stomach turned at the sight, despite how touched he was. He was already indebted to Sakura-san, and now he'd gone out of his way to buy these things for Akira, out of his own pocket, just because Akira had overworked himself.

"Sorry." Akira said quietly, and Sakura-san sighed, shaking his head.

"Don't give me that." He huffed. "You can't help it, so don't apologize for it."

"He's right." Morgana insisted as he climbed onto the bed, to which Sakura-san chuckled.

"See, even the cat agrees with me." He said, even though Morgana's words were just meows to his ears. "Now, the doctor said that you can take two of these every four-six hours if you need to," Sakura-san lifted a bottle of Takemi's painkillers from his assortment of clinic items, and Akira wondered if something was wrong with him if he lamented over using them to ease his migraine rather than as curatives in the Metaverse, "but you can only have ten tablets in total in a day. Got that?"

"Yeah." Akira tried to nod but only succeeded in aggravating the sting behind his eyes even further.

"...I'll write down the instructions the doc gave me, in case you forget." Sakura-san mused, and while he got up to retrieve a pen and paper, Akira reached for the packet of gel sheets.

Morgana tore through the box to speed up the process when Akira fumbled with it, seeming eager to assist in whatever way he could, and the not-cat looked relieved when Akira finally applied a gel sheet to his forehead, and sighed at the cold temperature. He sank back into his bed, pressing a hand over the sheet to ensure that it had been applied correctly, and closed his eyes. 

When Akira opened them, it was dark, his throat was dry, and Sakura-san was coming up the stairs, his apron gone. His hair looked wet, as if he'd just showered, and he was more dressed down than Akira was used to seeing him from their brief interactions in the cafe. He was carrying a bowl of fresh, plain rice, and the smell was heavenly, despite how present Akira's nausea was still. Plain rice seemed like a good, safe option, and Akira was willing to risk it. He knew he needed to eat. 

"Sorry about the light, kid." Sakura-san was saying as he walked over, setting the bowl down on the chair, opting to sit on the stool this time. He'd already moved the assortment of medicine and cold packs over to the chair as well, likely to eliminate the risk of the items falling onto the floor, where the water bottles rested beside Akira's bookbag, and some cans of tuna Sakura-san must've brought for Morgana to eat. "But it's better if you can see what you're eating."

"It's okay." Akira peeled the gel sheet off of his forehead, slowly forced himself to sit up, and reached for the bowl of rice and offered chopsticks. "Thanks for the food."

Sakura-san waved him off, making himself comfortable while Akira began to eat. "Some friends of yours came around after school, said they wanted to check up on you." At the mention, Akira felt anxious, afraid of what his guardian might've thought at the intrusion, but thankfully Sakura-san didn't seem bothered. "They seem like nice kids," he spoke thoughtfully, "so it's good to see you're not hanging around with the wrong crowd." He almost looked amused. "Maybe they'll be a good influence on you, yeah?"

Akira chuckled. "Yeah." He said. "They're- they're good people."

Sakura-san hummed, and he seemed content to gently run a hand over Morgana's fur as the not-cat continued to doze, and Akira ate as much as he could stomach.

"I know I said that I wouldn't take care of you if you got sick," Sakura-san said after a pause, "but even I can admit that it was a bit harsh of me, especially if you felt the need to hide from me how bad this migraine of yours was. Your homeroom teacher said you looked pale as a sheet when she saw you this morning, and that friend of yours - Ann-chan, was it? - told her that you collapsed in the classroom before you agreed to go to the sick bay." He looked dismayed when Akira looked up from his rice. "That ain't right, kid."

Akira's face turned red as he ducked his head in shame. A few days ago, he would've killed to have this much attention and conversation with his somewhat-cold guardian, but now Akira just felt bad for all the trouble he had caused the man.

"Next time, if you're sick or have another migraine, or anything like that," Sakura-san continued, "let me know. Record or not, you're still in my care."

 "Okay." Akira nodded. 

"Good. As long as you understand." Sakura-san seemed satisfied with that, getting up from his chair. "Now, just focus on getting some rest. I'll call Shujin in the morning and let them know you won't be coming in. Make sure you text your friends to take notes for you, got it?"

"Thank you, Sakura-san."

Again, Sakura-san waved him off, muttering something about kids these days under his breath as he walked toward the stairs, but his tone was warm and almost teasing. 

Akira smiled, feeling like the distance between them was beginning to disappear.

>>Group Chat: The Holy Trinity, 9:42pm

Ryuji: Hey man, you alive? It's been houuuurs!

Ann: Ryuji, do you even know what a migraine is like?

Ryuji: A super bad headache?

Ann: A super bad, super long headache.

Ryuji: How long are we talking?

Ann: Anywhere from a few hours to a few days, from what I've been reading.

Ryuji: Shit, seriously?

Ryuji: And wait, you've been researching stuff about them?

Ryuji: That's actually kinda cute.

Ann: Shut up!

Ann: I'm just worried about this happening again, so I want to know if there's anything we can do to help Akira!

Ryuji: I know, I know.

Ryuji: Actually, can you send me some links? I wanna see if I can wrap my head around this shit.

Ryuji: So we can take care of him better if there is a next time.

Ann: Aww, how sweet. 

Ryuji: Shaddup!

Akira: Both of you are adorable.

Ryuji: WHY ARE YOU AWAKE

Ann: GO BACK TO BED

Akira: I'm going, I'm going!

Although it took forever, or at least felt like it did, Akira’s migraine began to fade.

Time passed by slowly for Akira. It hurt to have his eyes open and keeping them shut barely helped. He couldn’t do anything to pass the time, which made him miserable. He didn’t have the energy to talk with Morgana, and whenever he looked at his phone screen, even for just long enough to check the time, waves of colour would flood his vision and his eyes would burn. He couldn’t listen to music or even a podcast because the ache in his temples would double at the slightest of noise. Takemi’s painkillers eased the worst of his suffering, but sometimes the pain was so constant, so intense, that sleeping felt impossible.

It didn’t last forever, though. Eventually, the pain began to recede, and he was able to enjoy short conversations over text with Ann and Ryuji and listen to music long enough to lull himself back to sleep. Morgana kept him company and did his best to fetch him water and snacks so he wouldn’t have to move around and irritate his head or eyes further. Sakura-san was a saint with how often he checked in with freshly cooked meals that were easy on Akira’s stomach. Ann dropped off notes for the classes he’d missed, and she and Ryuji were incredible support, constantly checking in to see how he was both online and in-person. While the deadline was getting closer, Ann, Ryuji, and Morgana all refused to go to the Palace without him, and Akira felt touched that he had a team as kind and supportive as his was.

Luckily, Morgana seemed confident that they could finish the Palace in just a few hours, so his friends were relaxed and ready to wait for when Akira felt ready to return to the Metaverse.

Almost five days had passed by the time he felt okay enough to return to school under Sakura-san’s watchful gaze, and while his time in bed had been awful, Akira was somewhat grateful that he’d been able to grow closer with his guardian. It felt like the tension between them had evaporated, and he saw Sakura-san in a new light, now that Akira knew that he wasn’t just another gruff adult who didn’t trust or care about him. Now, their interactions were more light-hearted, and Sakura-san kept a closer, but more concerned eye on him, which Akira was grateful for. Now, he didn’t feel like the freeloader in the attic. He felt like the kid under Sakura-san’s care, and coming back to Leblanc didn’t worry him anymore. Not when he’d begun learning how to brew coffee in the evenings after he’d finished his homework, and Sakura-san had shown he was more than happy to have extra help around the café, and someone to teach coffee bean trivia.

By the time they returned to the Metaverse, Akira had received many, many lectures about taking care of himself, and relying on his teammates. All three of them kept track of how often he was using his third eye, and made sure to remind him not to overexert himself, even for their sake. A special stash of Takemi's painkillers had been set aside in their shared inventory, reserved for Akira's migraine symptoms, and the team had agreed to take more breaks during their infiltrations, so that none of them ended up overworking themselves.

While he'd been embarassed about the extra attention and accommodations that had been put in place for him, Akira quickly started to enjoy their extra breaks. With a few extra visits to Safe Rooms here and there, their inflitrations seemed to improve, as it allowed time for extra recuperation, strategy meetings, and general conversation. Somehow, even with how dangerous the Metaverse could be, Akira never felt safer than he did with his small, newfound group of friends in those quiet moments in Safe Rooms. At school, there was always watchful eyes of students and teachers, following their every move.

Here, in this quiet pocket of space, where nothing could harm them until they chose to step out that door, Akira felt at peace. There was no better place to get to know the others, for them to get to know him, and for him to learn about his true self, beneath his various masks. There was no better place to allow himself to share his burdens, or to let himself be taken care of for once. 

Tokyo had been terrifying. Being arrested and eventually transferred far from everything he'd ever known had been some of the worst things to ever happen to him. Akira didn't feel that way anymore. Not about the city, or the chain of events that had led him here.

Now, Tokyo was beginning to feel like home. His beloved friends were beginning to feel like family. He wouldn't have traded that for anything.

As Akira settled into bed, days later, Morgana curled up at his side, and his group chat with Ann and Ryuji flooding with messages about Kamoshida's confession and subsequent arrest, Akira felt happy. He couldn't keep the smile from his face as Ann spoke about how excited she was to see Shiho's reaction to Kamoshida's downfall when she woke up, glad to see how hopeful she was, like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It was the same with Ryuji, like the optimism he'd had before his leg was broken had returned to him, like something had healed in him after watching Kamoshida get exactly what he deserved. While the three of them discussed eventually visiting Shiho as a group, and Akira thought about finally thanking Shiho for her kindness, he felt at peace.

He hadn't felt this excited about his own future in a while.

>>Group Chat: The Holy Trinity, 6:26pm

Akira: You know, I feel like I'm exactly where I need to be.

Ryuji: Of course you are, dude! You're right here with us!

Ann: Exactly. I feel like when we're together, we can accomplish anything. 

Akira: I know what you mean. You guys are the best.

Akira: Thank you for everything.

The outpouring of love he received in response was enough to bring tears to his eyes, but he meant it.

He was exactly where he was supposed to be.