Chapter Text

Akira looked to the door as it opened, and in walked Futaba. Every time he got to see her when it was just the two of them, his heart raced a little at the way she nervously held her hands behind her back, and the way she walked with just a little more hesitation and shyness in her steps. The time they got to spend together was something Akira valued more than anything else. But even the sight of the one he loved most couldn’t appease all the uneasiness within him. He needed to talk to her about something that had been on my mind since the night prior.



“Hey. . .” She said softly, wearing a delicate and innocent smile that was unlike the grin she wore around the other Phantom Thieves. Akira felt blessed to be the one capable of instilling that joy within her.

He smiled back. “Good morning.”



A blush danced across her cheeks as she stepped deeper into Leblanc. “Uh, you said you wanted to talk about something?” She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her messaging app – indeed, Akira had requested her here to talk about something important. “I’m a little scared. . . You said it was urgent.” She rocked back and forth ever so slightly in a way that made him want to hold and steady her, but he had to save the sweet nothings for later and focus on the matter at hand.



This matter at hand was in some ways menial, and in some ways, a matter of life or death. The source of Akira’s anxiousness was simple; an innocent request made by his guardian for the year, Sojiro.

“Oh, and uh . . . could you not . . . you know, ‘get with’ Futaba?”

Last night, when they’d gone to visit the church as a family, Sojiro had asked Akira this small favor. And normally, he wouldn’t have minded it at all – if he hadn’t already been dating Futaba, that is. But still, despite his anxiety, he had to smile for Futaba as he spoke, trying to reassure her.



“It’s nothing to be scared about,” he said, trying to sound as kind as possible, even if he himself was frightened by what might happen. “We just need to talk . . . about Sojiro.”



Futaba furrowed her brow, a quizzical frown upon her face. “What about Sojiro?”



“It’s probably best if I just tell you. . . Have a seat.” She sat down, and Akira sat across from her, before beginning to recount the events of the previous night.



He told her about all the events of the previous evening; the conversation he and Sojiro had had while Futaba was at her mother’s grave, and the specific comment that had left him perplexed and anxious.



Futaba almost spit out her coffee when Akira reached the climax of his story. “Sojiro really said that?”



He nodded grimly. It seemed he wasn’t the only one frightened by this.



“Oh no. . . What’re we gonna do?” she asked, drinking her coffee with just the slightest degree more franticness. “If Sojiro finds out about us, is he gonna kick you out?”



“What? No.” he said, insistent and confident. “I mean . . . probably not?” he said, less confident this time.



“I was worried about this. . . What should we do? We can’t tell him, can we?”



Akira crossed his arms and leaned back in the booth, trying to think. “I don’t want to tell him . . . but dragging it on for longer than we need to might be a bad thing.”



Futaba rested her arms against the table, setting her chin atop her forearms. “That sounds right, but . . . I don’t really want to tell him either.”

“Yeah. . .” Akira frowned, but tried to seem confident for Futaba’s sake. He wanted to be someone she could rely on, after all. “Well, it’s Sojiro. I’m sure he won’t be that upset about it. We’ll just explain the situation.”



“You think so?” she asked, sitting up ever so slowly. Her petite frame swelled with just the slightest hint more confidence, and Akira couldn’t help but smile. He nodded.



“Alright. . . If you say so, Akira. When should we tell him?”



“How does tonight sound?”



“What?” she asked. “That’s way too sudden!” Her panicked tone and widened eyes were as cute as always.



“Isn’t everything way too sudden for you?” he asked teasingly, trying to elicit more of that nervous reaction he loved.



“H-Hey. . . Quit teasing me!” She slumped in the booth, and even if he felt a little guilty, Akira smile grew even wider.



He stood up and straightened out his apron. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry. How about I make you some more coffee to apologize?”



Futaba smiled, nodding childishly as she held out her cup. “That’s more like it.” Akira grabbed her cup and she stood, clasping her hands behind her back as always. “I’m gonna go play games in your room. Come upstairs when you’re done!”



“Will do.” Akira kissed Futaba’s forehead to send her off before she scurried upstairs. He watched fondly, releasing a loving sigh as he watched her go. He walked behind the counter and began the brewing process, just as Sojiro had taught him. After several months of filling in and closing up for Sojiro, Akira had gotten pretty good at this sort of thing. Coffee was almost second nature after the countless cups he’d made for customers and friends. It was so instinctual that when the door opened, he responded as though he were a real barista working in this place. “Welcome to Leblanc.”



“Oh. You’re working.” The deep voice caused Akira’s shoulders to tense up as Sojiro sauntered into the shop, taking a seat at the bar. “Didn’t expect you to be up, let alone watching the store on a Sunday. Making coffee for yourself?”



“No, Futaba’s upstairs.” Akira hoped he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt.

“Oh. Make me a cup too, then.” Sojiro set his hat down and looked around Leblanc idly. “I didn’t expect you to be such a big help in the store, you know. Maybe I should just retire and let you run the place.” He smiled and laughed.



Akira feigned a chuckle as his mind drifted to a comment Futaba had made during one of their earlier dates – that he could be the ‘second generation Leblanc owner.’ Second generation, huh. . . He has no idea. He tried to mask his nervousness by working just a tad faster. Making coffee was second nature to him, after all, so it was a good way to remain calm.



“Uh. . . Hey, Akira. What’s that?” Sojiro asked, pointing toward one of the cups of coffee.



“Did I do something wrong?” Akira looked down at the three cups he’d prepared and tried to figure out what was wrong. They all look okay. . . Wait.



One of the cups had a latte art heart right in the middle of the brown sea of coffee. Whenever Akira made Futaba coffee while they were all alone, he’d put a heart on top just to give it a little extra oomph that made it more than a simple replication of Sojiro’s technique. Oh, crap, I must’ve done it by force of habit.



“You put a heart on that one—“



“That one’s mine,” he said, desperately trying to cover his mistake.



“. . . What?” Sojiro looked utterly bewildered.



“I always put a heart in my coffee. Haven’t you noticed?” Akira did his best to sound as confident as possible. To solidify his act, he grabbed the cup and took a sip – and in his franticness, drank just a little too much. Damn, that’s hot. . . He somehow managed to keep his face straight despite the scalding hot coffee pouring down his throat as he swallowed.



Sojiro looked from the cups to Akira. “Well, no. . . Wait, I watch you make coffee all the time. Do you really –“



“I’d love to keep talking, Sojiro, but I want to get Futaba her coffee before it gets cold. You know how she gets with cold coffee, yeah?” He laughed conspicuously and hoped it was enough to fool Sojiro.



“. . . Yeah, she does get pretty mad about that.” Sojiro laughed it off, just as planned. “I’ll watch the shop for now.”



“Thanks, Sojiro.” Akira wasted no time grabbing the two mugs and hurrying up the stairs, fleeing the lion’s den as fast as his legs would carry him. Without spilling his coffee of course.



He must’ve audibly sighed when he got up the stairs, because Futaba looked over and furrowed her eyebrows. “Is something wrong?” she asked as she whittled away at the enemy she fought in her game, the clicking and tapping of buttons filling the usually silent attic.



“I just ran into Sojiro.” He walked over to the sofa where she sat and set her coffee down in front of her. “Here’s your coffee.”



“Really? Talk about bad timing. Stupid Sojiro. . .” She paused her game and set the controller down, grabbing her designated cup. She smiled. “You put a little heart in it again. You’re so cute, pretty boy.”

“Wish you could’ve been down there when Boss saw it. I had to tell him it was mine.”

“Really?” Futaba giggled girlishly and took a long sip from her cup. “Talk about a close call. . . He probably thinks you’re a total sap now.”



“Don’t tease me.” He patted the top of her head, scratching her scalp and running it through her hair. She pressed up against his hand, nuzzling into it.



“I love it when you pat my head. . . Having a boyfriend is the best.” Futaba closed her eyes and let the world drift by for a moment.



“Having a girlfriend isn’t so bad either. . . Though, I hope Boss comes to like us being together as much as we do.”



The serene moment slowly dissolved as Futaba opened her eyes, worried. “Oh, right. . . We gotta tell Sojiro. When do you wanna do that?”



“We could go downstairs and tell him now.”



“After the whole heart in the coffee thing? Really?”



Akira laughed. “True, true. . . That’d be kind of embarrassing. We’ll tell him tomorrow after I get home from school.”



“Mm. . . Okay. I guess I need to be brave.” Futaba, with a look of determination on her face, went back to smashing up bad guys. Akira watched her with fascination; something about the utter focus on her face while she played was cute. He drank his own coffee while he enjoyed the show.

Akira sat in class and listened to Kawakami’s lecture, hand propped up underneath his chin. Well, “listened” is being a little generous – he stared out the window and let his mind wander instead, his thoughts constantly drifting to the conversation he had been preparing himself for through the whole night prior.

I’m sure it’ll be fine. . . But I can’t stop worrying for some reason.



He was drawn from his doldrums by a paw reaching out from the pocket within his desk, pressing against his torso. Morgana, who made a habit of lounging inside his desk, seemed to be trying to get his attention.



“Hey, something got you down, Joker?”



“No. . .” Akira muttered quietly, trying not to attract any attention from his classmates. “Just thinking about something.”



“Huh. You must be really out of it today if you’re not even checking your phone.” Morgana licked his paw casually as he spoke.



“My phone?”



“Yeah. It’s been going off down here for the past ten minutes.”



Akira widened his eyes and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and sure enough, it had a few notifications on it. He unlocked it to get a glimpse at who’d been texting him. A few of the messages were from Ryuji; stuff along the lines of “Ugh, class is so boring,” and “Man, I can’t wait to get outta here. You?”



He shot Ryuji a ‘Same’ message before backing out of the menu and addressing the texts that caught his more immediate concern.



Futaba’s texts read as follows:



Futaba: Hey, pretty boy. I know you’re in class, but I couldn’t wait to talk to you.



Futaba: My new game came in! This weekend, we should totally play it in your room. It looks really fun!



A soft smile danced across Akira’s face as he observed the frantic nature of his girlfriend, even though they were just words on a screen. Little things like this were always enough to pick Akira up.



Akira: Sounds like fun. I’ll set aside time for it.



Futaba: Can’t wait!



The messages were short and innocent, but for some reason they made sitting through class more bearable. Akira let his thoughts drift to happier things rather than the constant dread hanging over him. He wanted this weekend to come even faster, now. He wanted to see Futaba’s shoulders bunch up as she held the game out to him, beaming with anticipation. He wanted to hear her feeble attempts at trash talk while they played against each other, followed by her adorable apologies and pleas for forgiveness, which he readily gave. He wanted to sit next to her on his bed and smile as her head pressed against his shoulder, and the world froze as he sat in utter bliss for just a while. Those were the moments that made everything he went through worth it.



That’s why this has to go well, he thought. I have to make Sojiro see that Futaba and I are right for each other.



With a new and strengthened determination, Akira went back to not paying attention in class, now certain that he was ready for this afternoon.

Futaba was standing outside of Leblanc before he had even gotten back. “H-Hey, hot stuff,” she muttered, trying to smile and sound as casual as ever.



“Are you nervous?” he asked, trying to do the exact same thing.



“Yeah. . .” She inhaled deeply before psyching herself up. “But I can’t let myself get down. We have to do this!"



“Yeah.”



“But still. . .” she said, her determination quickly wavering. “I’ve never been this worried about talking to Sojiro before. It’s like he’s a final boss or something. . .”



A laugh escaped Akira’s lungs, despite the gravity of the situation. “C’mon, it’s nothing like that. We’re going to go in, tell him, and he’ll approve. It’s all going to go well.”



“Well, if it’s you saying that, Akira, I can’t help but think it’ll be true. . . Okay then. Let’s smash this boss!”



“C’mon. Don’t treat Sojiro like a boss in a video game.”



“But everyone calls him Boss!” She protested and pouted.



“Oh. . . That’s true, actually. Then, yeah. Let’s smash this boss.”



“Whoa. . .” Futaba looked at him with awe and admiration. “It’s so much cooler when you say it!”



The couple laughed and walked into Leblanc, somehow distracting themselves from the conversation they were about to have. Sojiro looked at them as they walked in.



“Ah, you’re back,” said Boss, setting down his newspaper as always. The store was empty, only filled with the background noise of the TV that Sojiro always kept on to listen to the news. “And Futaba’s with you.”



The happiness that Futaba and Akira were feeling was quickly replaced with dread as the weight of the situation came to bear down upon them with full force. Akira took it into his hands to speak first, knowing well how flustered Futaba could get in these situations.



“Yeah, we’re home.” He picked a casual, but suggestive statement that might hint at a little more ‘togetherness’ between them. In his head, it was masterful. In reality, it was kind of silly – Futaba didn’t even live here.



“School go well?” Boss obviously didn’t take the hint. Not that it was well placed at all.

“Yeah.” My idea didn’t work. . . His confidence started to fade as he was left fumbling for a way to segue into the conversation of the hour.



“U-Uhm, So-Sojiro?” asked Futaba, barely managing to find the resolve to speak up. Akira silently thanked her for her bravery. “We wanted to talk to you about something. . .”



“Oh. . . Well, alright. Is it about coffee? I already said I taught you everything I know,” he said with a laugh as he walked out from behind the counter. He took a seat in the booth. Futaba and Akira, knowing they’ve come too far to turn back now, looked at each other and exchanged nods of steely resolve before sitting down across from him.



“It’s not about coffee,” said Akira, responding to the laugh with a smile of his own. “It’s about . . . How do I put it?” he asked, brow furrowing as he thought. Akira was about to open his mouth to speak again when he was interrupted by Futaba’s outburst.



“Akira stole my heart!” she cried, her voice coming out high pitched and nervous as a result of the stress of the situation. Immediately after, her eyes widened and she clapped her hands over her mouth, as if doing so could suppress what she’d said. As for Sojiro and Akira, it was a tie as to who looked more dumbfounded.



“You already told me about that, Futaba. Remember?” Sojiro spoke cautiously, as only a parent can. He glanced at Akira as if to ask ‘Is she alright?’



Akira could only shrug and watch.



“N-No, not like that! I mean, yeah, that did happen, but he stole my heart in a different way too!” she said frantically, poking her index fingers against one another repeatedly, unable to make eye contact with Sojiro.



Sojiro was baffled. “I . . . uh, Futaba, what exactly are you. . .” His eyes slowly widened further as the realization dawned on him.



“Sakura-san. . . Futaba and I are dating,” said Akira in the calmest, most respectful voice he could possibly muster. The words flowed out into the room, but were eaten up by the deafening silence that followed. Even the TV didn’t seem like it could pierce the quiet that hung over Leblanc.



It was a long time before Sojiro spoke up. “I thought I told you. . .” he said, the authoritative tone slowly building up in his voice.



“I-It’s complicated,” Akira said, struggling to defend himself. “I would have absolutely respected your request, Sakura-san . . . That is, if Futaba and I weren’t already dating.”



“W-What?” Sojiro’s exclamation caused Futaba to quiver. Akira wanted to hold her and reassure her, but now probably wasn’t the time. “How long have you two been doing this?” he continued.



“Since September.” Behind Akira’s glasses, he tried to keep a face of stony resolution, but this wasn’t going as well as he had been hoping, and the doubt and fear was creeping into his expression.



“September? And you didn’t tell me?” Sojiro’s anger seemed to escalate with each clarification.



“W-We thought you’d be mad. . .” Futaba’s voice came out small and quiet.



“Well, you were right. . .” Sojiro pinched the bridge of his nose as his brow furrowed, frustration written into the creases on his forehead. “I’ve let her go up into your room alone countless times. . . How far have you two –“



“S-Sojiro!” shouted Futaba, her cheeks growing redder with embarrassment by the second. “We haven’t done anything! We’ve barely even held hands! I-I mean, I put my head on his shoulder sometimes, and sometimes he pats it, but nothing more than that! We haven’t even kissed!”



Sojiro’s anger turned back to bewilderment for a brief moment. “What? Really? When I was your age, if I brought a girl up into my room, then . . .” Sojiro smiled briefly as memories of his youth filled his mind, but shortly after his anger returned. “Wait, that’s not the point! I can’t believe you did this without my permission!”



“I’m sorry, Sakura-san,” said Akira, unsure of what else to do. Normally when faced by the tirade of an adult, he could at least think of some witty comment, or expect someone else to, but this time he was frozen. Maybe it was Sojiro’s presence, or maybe it was how badly he wanted his permission. “We shouldn’t have waited so long to tell you. But, if you’ll let me. . . I’d like to stay in a relationship with Futaba. I’m in love with her. So . . . Please.” His voice was cool and collected, but he pleaded with his eyes, and his leg bounced up and down relentlessly, his nerves getting the better of him.



“I’m sorry too, Sojiro.” Futaba looked as though she was about to cry. “But he makes me so happy. . . I promise he hasn’t treated me badly, and he never will. So please?”



“. . .” Sojiro remained still for a while, then moved, only to run his fingers through his goatee and think. His face darkened, and Akira couldn’t tell if it was in frustration or in contemplation. The silence dropped over Leblanc like a thick blanket once more. Many moments passed, and Akira wasn’t sure if he would ever leave this café. But eventually, Sojiro spoke.



“I’m sorry, but I don’t want you to be with Futaba.”



Akira’s heart sank faster than it ever had before.



“Sojiro, why!?” Futaba asked, sounding angry and upset in equal portions.



“It’s not that I don’t think you’re responsible. . .” Sojiro sighed as he explained. “But you’re older than her, for one. . . And two, you’ve only known each other for a few months. How do you know if you’re in love?” His argument was a tad too convincing for Akira’s liking. His shoulders bunched up in discomfort, but Sojiro wasn’t done. “Lastly, with those Phantom Thieves antics you’ve got going on, who knows what kind of trouble you’re getting up to? I just don’t know enough about it to safely let you get Futaba even more involved. . . I’m sorry, but I don’t want Futaba getting hurt.”



Futaba’s anger swelled within her as she listened until it all threatened to burst out. She stood up in her booth, clenching her fists at her side. “You don’t know what you’re talking about! You probably just think he’s some kind of womanizer because you were one when you were younger! Well, not everyone is like you! Stupid Sojiro!” She didn’t hesitate for a moment before storming out of Leblanc.



Sojiro watched her, dumbfounded, before a sigh of resignation passed his lips. He looked to Akira.



Akira didn’t look up from the table, simply staring downward. His expression was obscured by his frizzy hair and glasses, but even then it was easy to see that he was defeated. It was a long while before he spoke. He stood. “Thank you for your time, Boss.”



“Don’t mention it. . .” Looking at the kid he’d been asked to care for so sad, Sojiro felt a pang of sadness in his chest. “It’s nothing against you personally. . . I just have to protect her. I hope you understand.”



“I do.” Without another word, or even another glance, Akira went upstairs.

Morgana hopped up onto the bed to get his leader’s attention after his comments were ignored for the third time. “Hey, are you even listening to me?”



Akira laid back in his bed, staring at the ceiling in his Shujin uniform. He didn’t have enough effort in him to take it off. The blank expression on his face betrayed none of what he was thinking as he glanced from the roof above to Morgana. “Sorry. . . I’m kinda’ tired.”



Morgana licked his paw and looked at Joker skeptically. “That can’t be right. . . You never want to get to bed right away. I normally have to make you.” He made himself comfortable and curled up, awaiting an explanation. “What’s going on?”



“It’s complicated.” Akira returned his cold stare to the ceiling above. “Boss doesn’t want me and Futaba to be together. For a number of reasons, but the point is . . . he’s told me to stay away from her.”



Morgana closed his eyes and nodded. “I see. . . Well, Boss takes matters regarding Futaba pretty seriously, so I’m not too surprised. But what are you planning to do about it, Joker?”



“I don’t know.” His brow furrowed with frustration at the feeling of helplessness inside that wouldn’t die down. Silence fell over the room for a while, but it was broken by the sound of Akira’s phone buzzing next to him. By force of habit, he grabbed it and took a look.



His heart rose and sank in equal parts when he saw that the message was from Futaba. He opened it immediately.



Futaba: Hey.



The message was short. Too short for comfort. Akira texted back anxiously, his fingers dexterously gliding across the screen.



Akira: Are you alright?



Futaba: I’m fine.



Futaba: No. I’m not fine. I can’t believe stupid Sojiro! All the things he said about you were so mean! >:(



Akira tried to find the heart to smile at the silly facial expression and her cute texts, but it was ultimately too hard for him and his lips curled down into a frown again.



Akira: Don’t be mad at Boss. He’s just trying to protect you.



Futaba: I don’t need to be protected, though. Sojiro wouldn’t even listen to me when I told him how happy you made me. . .



Akira: Yeah. . . We’re sort of at a standstill, huh? He doesn’t seem to want to hear what we have to say.



Futaba: Yep. This is so frustrating. . .



Akira’s frown grew deeper as the conversation progressed. For some reason, he’d hoped that Futaba might bring good news, or at least a pick-me-up, but it didn’t seem like that was coming any time soon. He inhaled sharply and sent the message he needed to send.



Akira: What do you want to do?



Futaba: That’s obvious. I want to be with you. . . I never want to leave your side.



Futaba: I don’t care what Sojiro says. I love you.



Akira: I love you too. He sent this back half out of habit, but half out of a necessity to reaffirm his feelings to her.



Akira: But what are we supposed to do if Boss is just going to say no?



Futaba: . . . That’s a good question. . .



Akira tapped his phone’s screen a few times, thinking of what to say. The solution, at least to him, was obvious; all he had to do was go behind Sojiro’s back. But he didn’t want to do that; he respected Sojiro, and didn’t want to spit on the kindness he’d been given over this past half a year. What he should’ve done was respect Sojiro’s request and left his daughter alone. . . But he didn’t want to do that either. He loved Futaba. To him, she was a necessity. His jaw tightened as he came to his decision.



Akira: Why don’t we just do what we’ve been doing? We were dating behind his back for a while. We can just go back to it.



Futaba: I think that’s our only choice. . . But at the same time, I doubt Sojiro will let you anywhere near me alone. He’ll be a lot more cautious about us hanging out.



Akira: True. But we are Phantom Thieves. We’ll have to be more inventive about where we go and when we go there, but it shouldn’t be too hard. Plus, we always have texts.



Futaba: That’s right. Yeah, that’s right! We’re master thieves. We can outsmart stupid Sojiro. Then that’s what we’re going to do! I’ll brainstorm a bunch of different ways for us to get together. This’ll be a cinch!



Akira: Remember, this should only be a temporary solution. I’m excited too, but we should also think of ways we can convince Boss to let us be together.



Futaba: Okay. I’ll keep an open mind to that, too.



Futaba: I’m really tired. Tonight took a ton out of me. . . I’m gonna go to bed. Goodnight.



Akira: Goodnight. I love you.



Futaba: Love you too!



Akira lowered his phone to his side and let out a long sigh, one of equal parts relief and anxiety. Futaba still wanted to be with him, and wasn’t afraid to go behind Sojiro, so at the very least he wasn’t losing his girlfriend. But still, a nagging guilt tugged at his heartstrings; was this really the best course of action? Should I really be going behind Sojiro’s back?



The answer wouldn’t come, no matter how much he thought. He closed his eyes and desperately tried to get some sleep.