Thanks to a good friend of mine, I was inspired to write a Persona 5 fic of my own. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this but it will contain loads of fluff and potential spoilers of the game.
Reviews are not necessary, but greatly appreciated! Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Persona 5 in any way, shape, or form.
Chapter One
"Hey hey, that's him, isn't it? The transfer student?"
"I heard he killed someone."
"I thought it was an assault charge."
"Doesn't he kind of freak you out?"
"Why did the school let him transfer here?"
"Oh, crap, he's looking this way!"
Skittish girls and boys scurried to the sides of the hallway, all eyes on one particular student. A pathway in the sea of awkwardness was formed for the lone person of gossip to traverse. At sixteen years old, Kurusu Akira was the most infamous student at Shujin Academy ever... and he'd been attending there for less than a month. Despite his fairly good behavior (immediately getting on Kamoshida's bad side excluded), speculations about his expulsion from his old school continued to circulate, much to his chagrin. The rumors changed on a daily basis—sometimes they were exaggerated or blown way out of proportion, while other times were ridiculously and hilariously implausible.
Nevertheless, none of them bothered to learn the truth because no one wanted to approach him.
A vocal sigh escaping his lips, Akira steeled himself against the incessant mumbling and ventured onward. His destination: the library. Classes ended not too long ago so he had plenty of time to kill. He figured it wouldn't hurt to get some studying done before heading home to Leblanc. He had asked Ryuji if he wanted to accompany him but the blonde hastily declined, fleeing almost instantly at the mention of studying. This left the transfer student alone with literally no one who wanted to talk to him.
Akira slid the back door of the library open, drawing attention from students sitting at nearby tables. As soon as they saw who the newcomer was, their faces blanched and snapped their eyes back to whatever book or paper lay in front of them. The deafening silence loomed heavy in the air as he sauntered over to the cubicles on the opposite side. The corner cubicle was conveniently available to claim for himself. Hanging his book bag off the back of the chair, Akira pulled out his textbook from class, flipped to that day's lecture topic, and began taking notes.
"I-Is he really studying here?" someone whispered.
A light scoff came from another. "I bet he's plotting something."
"Does he actually care about his grades?"
"Who knows?"
"He's making it hard to study..."
And thus the discourse of the transfer student carried on.
Akira did his best to ignore them, but even he couldn't help but tighten his jaw when the student in the adjacent cubicle gathered his belongings and moved to the desk two seats away. A bubble of solitude surrounded him. Even though he suspected this would be the obvious outcome, it didn't make him feel any better. It was times like these that made him wonder why he even bothered to linger around after school. At least at Leblanc he wouldn't be judged (as much), even if that meant staying cooped up in the dusty attic that was his room.
Another sigh escaped him. Living a "normal" life could be so tiring sometimes.
He jolted when the chair to his left was pulled backwards, a female student casually occupying the cubicle. A prim and properly worn uniform. Jet black hair reaching the middle of her back was pulled into a simple braid. Muffled music played through the earbuds resting in her ears. Without a single glance his way, she brushed side swept bangs out of her eyes and flipped her book open. Whether she was oblivious to his presence or she just didn't care, it was difficult to tell.
Turns out it was the latter, as his dumbfounded staring was what finally drew her attention to him a minute later. Tilting her head toward him, she removed one of her earbuds and raised a suspicious brow. Her brown eyes shimmered with certain mirth. "Yes?"
Akira snapped his eyes back to his unfinished notes, a faint blush dusting his cheeks for being caught. "Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to stare."
Instead of taking offense like he predicted, she giggled lightheartedly. "There's no need to apologize, Kurusu-kun."
Even more shocking, she knew his name.
Not "transfer student" or "delinquent".
His real name.
Time passed in silence, neither of them saying anything more. In his presence, she didn't make it awkward. No nervous fidgeting, no cautionary looks, no nothing. It was simply... pleasant. It was the first time he's felt like this since he befriended Ryuji. The tranquility was filled with rustling of pages and the occasional chuckle from the girl when she read an amusing passage in her book. Akira spared another glance her way, curiosity getting the better of him. There were plenty of other chairs available before either of them sat down. Why did she sit next to him? She must have done it on purpose, right?
Before his mental inquiries could be answered, both of them jumped when hands plopped onto the girl's shoulders. The grinning face of another female student beamed down on her, obviously a friend. "Sorry for making you wait, Ayame!" the friend apologized. "Ready to go?"
The girl named Ayame returned her grin. "Yep, let me pack my stuff." After placing her book in her school bag, she stood up and turned to Akira, the friendly smile presented to him as well. "See you later, Kurusu-kun."
Again, Akira did not expect to be acknowledged and lamely bid her a, "Y-yeah."
The suspicious look on her friend's face did not go unnoticed to the fledgling phantom thief. "Are you friends with him?" she asked Ayame, more audible than she probably intended. "You know he's dangerous."
"Oh, c'mon," Ayame dismissed her with a roll of her eyes. "There's so many different rumors you don't even know what's true from false." With cheery laughter, she pushed her friend out of the library and disappeared around the wall.
Akira was left with his jaw slightly agape. He saw it. She knew he knew he could hear them and mouthed a silent apology. A twitch of a smile appeared on his face as he returned to his work. He tapped the clip end of his pencil to his lips, his thoughts still lingering on the scene just moments before.
Maybe... not everyone thinks I'm a bad guy?
The class representative of 2-C clapped her hands together, bringing attention to the lone female at the podium. "Everyone, remember to hand me your notebooks before you leave!" she announced to her classmates. "Sensei will not accept late work!"
A collective agreement in the form of groans echoed throughout the room. Her announcement successfully passed on, the class representative returned to her desk for clean-up. As soon as the last bell rang, the instantly rejuvenated students gathered around the chalkboard. They tossed their homework onto the wooden podium before escaping to their after-school activities. Albeit begrudgingly, it seemed everyone turned their notebooks in. Some even showed gratitude toward her since she volunteered to run this errand when no one else wanted to.
"Thanks, Hoshino!"
"We'll make it up to you, Ayame-chan!"
Stuffing her pencil case into her bag, Ayame waved a goodbye to her classmates. "See you tomorrow!" She gasped when a blur of black and yellow rushed past her but she was quick to react. "Ah, Sakamoto-kun!" The student in question froze, glancing over his shoulder. Narrowed brown eyes demanded to know why she stopped him. Ayame refused to hesitate. "Did you turn in your homework?"
Sakamoto tossed her an annoyed glare, which she suppressed the urge to flinch at, and turned back around. "Nope, didn't do it," he retorted before stomping out of the classroom.
"Should have known," she sighed, shaking her head. "Well, it didn't hurt to ask."
The last one in the class, Ayame strode up to the podium where a cluttered mess of journals greeted her. She blew bangs out of her eyes; they couldn't help her a little by stacking it neatly? After arranging the notebooks into one tall pile, she slowly eased the tower into her arms and began her journey to the faculty office. Her quest became increasingly difficult due to dodging careless classmates, who sometimes didn't hear her calls to make room for her. A group of girls decided to take their sweet time so she, as politely as possible, forced her way through.
Once she thought the worse was over, she sidestepped one last student at the corner of where she needed to turn only to slam face first into another. The sudden collision caused her to drop the notebooks, scattering them about the floor.
"Sorry!" she apologized, mentally cursing as she knelt down to collect the journals. "I should've paid more attention—"
It was then that she became aware the atmosphere shifted. Nearby students pressed themselves against the walls, whispering to their friends as they stared sympathetically at her. A curious reaction, but when she glanced to the person she bumped into, she knew the reason why. The delinquent transfer student, Kurusu Akira, gazed down at her, boring dark gray eyes into her being from behind big-framed glasses. She knew of him—everyone in school did—but only saw the guy in quick passing. Having initially believed the rumors, she and her friends did everything in their power to avoid him. Now that she had a good look at him, however, Ayame was at a loss for words.
Was this really the guy who assaulted a woman?
She didn't expect him to look so... unassuming.
"Uh oh. She bumped into him."
"You think she's gonna get hurt?"
"He won't do anything during school hours... or would he?"
"Scary... I'd start running if I was her."
The hushed conversations around her brought Ayame back to her current situation. Tuning out the noise, she set aside her thoughts to focus on gathering her classmates' homework. An arm extended out toward a workbook before she could reach it. The arm belonged to the transfer student, who had decided to assist her in the gathering. She did not refuse his help. Between both of their efforts, Ayame was in full possession of the notebooks in no time.
"Th-thank you for helping me," she said, flashing a small smile of gratitude behind the notebook tower.
In what seemed to be a sheepish manner, he twirled a lock of unruly bangs shadowing over his eyes. "It was my fault, too," he uttered softly. "Sorry." To hear him apologize was a bit of a shock to her, but it was too late to make a response. He walked away without another word.
Ayame stood in the hallway a moment longer, staring at his form growing increasingly smaller in the distance. With a genuine smile stretching across her face, she delivered the notebooks to her teacher before returning to the classroom to retrieve her belongings. As she was leaving the school, her mind reflected on the admittedly intriguing transfer student.
Not once during their interaction did she get the sense of foreboding. The aura he emitted—the purposeful way he carried himself through his actions, all the while ignoring the blatant gossip against him—didn't raise any red flags. Not to mention he was the only one who stopped to help her, even though she'd known the others much longer than him.
Kurusu Akira... perhaps I was wrong about him?
