Despite his long stay, there were only a few things Akira Kurusu thought about during his time in juvenile hall.

He thought of his friends. Naturally, as he had done this for their sakes. Not that he held this in any sort of bitterness - he had chosen this, of his own will. He wondered how they were spending their winter break; he wondered how they had spent New Year's.

It was his friends that occupied most of his thoughts.

Of course, among his friends was Goro Akechi.

Goro Akechi, who perhaps it was presumptuous of Akira to refer to as a friend. Goro Akechi, who couldn't spend his winter break doing anything. Because he hadn't been saved. The one person Akira couldn't save.

The person who probably needed it most.

Akira's confinement was solitary. It was not often he saw other people. Hours stretched into days which blended into the weeks. He wondered if this was how Akechi had felt. Was every day the same to him? Lost in his resentment, did he truly care for nothing besides his revenge?

Akira would never get the chance to ask.

It had been over a month, now, since Akechi had died.

Died.

It was a thought that Akira's whole body seemed to revolt against, insides cold as they turned and twisted.

The reality of this seemed so foreign - so wrong. Excuses would flood his mind. He hadn't seen Akechi's body. Futaba had said she couldn't feel him anymore, but they hadn't felt him before that. What even happened to someone who died in the Metaverse?

Maybe he should have gone back. Maybe he should have waited. Maybe if he had reached out to Akechi just a little more -

- It was useless to think about.

He still saw Akechi, though - and his other friends - but mostly Akechi - in his dreams.

Akechi, sitting quietly at Leblanc long after he'd finished his drink.

Akechi, at Akira's side in the Metaverse, the only one who could truly seem to keep up with him.

Akechi, standing between them and his cognitive self, before the shutter closed between them.

There were some days in juvenile hall where Akira didn't touch his food.

He lived only for the sake of his friends - and for getting out and one day seeing them. Living just for that purpose, all else - not that there was much else - seemed so insignificant. Unnoticeable. The taste of his food. The weather outside his small window.

In time, his confines didn't seem all so bad.

After all, what was he going to do after he was finally able to leave?

It was hard to remember his life before he came to Yongen-Jaya. Before he became a Phantom Thief.

What was he even living for, back then?

What was he going to live for now?

…His friends, of course. That was why he was here.

He would be with his friends as they went on with their lives. As Ann became a better model. As Yusuke continued his pursuit of art. As Makoto went on to become a police commissioner. As Haru started her own café…

What would Akira be doing?

What did he even want to do?

When he had these thoughts, his dreams were often of the Velvet Room. A place he would never return to. His journey was finished - his role as a Trickster had been fulfilled.

Yet still Akira found himself wishing to see that blue door. When he asked himself why, he couldn't answer. It wasn't to see either of its residents - but it was to see something. He needed to go in - it called to him. He dreamt of walking up to that door, opening it, and -

He woke up before he knew what was inside.

He spent time thinking too, of course, of the Thieves' various escapades into the Metaverse.

In that world - as the Phantom Thief Joker - things came naturally to him. It was what he felt like he was meant to do. And it was a place he could be free.

He wondered, as images of Akechi keeping up right at his side flew through his mind, if he felt the same way.

Another thing he would never get to ask.

When the cold air of the outside hit him for the first time in months, it froze Akira to the bone.

On March 19th, his last full day in Yongen-Jaya, he decides to go and say his farewells.

To everyone he had spent his time with, he parts them with a smile. People he would miss, and people who would miss him in turn.

He wonders if Akechi had anyone like that.

He doubts it.

He bites his tongue as he starts to make his way down Central Street.

It had been a month or so since he'd been freed, but it felt like only days. Or maybe years. The passage of time was strangely unfamiliar to him.

Akechi still occupied much of his thoughts.

He wondered if the other Thieves thought of him, too. No one had spoken a word about him since Akira had come back.

…That was natural. Akechi was dead. And he had been dead for months.

He was dead, so Akira shouldn't be thinking of him. There was nothing more to be done. Akechi was dead.

"…Akira?"

Akira looks over his shoulder. Morgana's head peeks out of his bag, brow furrowed. "You okay?"

Akira realizes, then, that he had slowed to a complete stop.

"Mm. I'm fine."

Akira pets Morgana's head.

Morgana gives him a small smile - the one he always gives Akira when he knows he doesn't want to talk about it - and slips back into the bag.

Akira had been seeing that smile increasingly often.

He walks on, moving through the particularly dissonant crowd of people.

Instinctually, he looks down the alleyway -

His heart misses a beat when a blue door greets him, and Lavenza outside of it.

His quick footsteps are loud as he hurries over.

The door is familiar to him - this feeling was not. Each step closer, his heart pounds a bit harder in his chest. He had long gotten used to seeing the Velvet Room, and entering it at his leisure. The door had always called to him - in the way that only he knew of its presence, and in the way that he was expected to be there. Now, though, he knows there is no Igor waiting for him, and Lavenza stands outside. He is not expected to enter - and he no longer has need for its services.

Yet still, the door seems brighter today, it seems to call to him so loudly it screams, and Akira has to fight the overwhelming urge to throw the door open.

Lavenza looks up at him. "…So, you have come to say farewell."

Akira tears his gaze away from the door and simply stares back at her.

Lavenza offers him a soft smile. "I have some words of reflection for you in this time of parting. If one wishes to belong, they must be willing to sacrifice their own needs and desires at times. Furthermore, one may even have to cast away their very selves for the sake of those who accompany them… In truth, I would never have come to learn these things if not for you. …I pray you do not lose sight of yourself in the future."

Akira nods once. "Thank you."

Even if, he thinks, he's probably already failed in that.

It probably doesn't show on his face, at least, because Lavenza gives a soft laugh. "Hm… I believe I should be the one thanking you in this situation." She pauses, her smile fading, as she slips a hand into her pocket. "…I have more than mere words to give to you today though. Allow me to grant you a parting gift, not as the one who leads you, but simply as Lavenza. It is an item that will commemorate the man who fought for his beliefs, even though it nearly killed him."

She holds out her hand, and Akira places his palm below it. Something small falls into it and Akira brings it closer to himself.

The key is a bright blue, simple in design but nearly glowing in its sheen.

"This is the key to the cell that held you captive for so long," Lavenza says. "In the past, guests of the Velvet Room have received their keys upon their very first visits. However, I was unable to pass it onto you at that point. This is the least I can do for you now… With this key in hand, you will be able to break free of whatever trials may imprison you in the future. Though of course, you have already chosen the path of true freedom. My only advice to you would be to remember the others who made that path possible for you. Such a superb Trickster as yourself may already know that at this point."

Akira's eyes remain on the key. The people who had made it possible… he had been spending today thanking them, and saying goodbye.

He couldn't thank Akechi.

Akechi couldn't know true freedom.

Akira's gaze shifts to the blue door. His stay as a guest was over.

Yet…

"Lavenza. Can I ask you some things?"

Lavenza's smile doesn't waver. If anything, it widens just a bit. "Of course you may."

She was probably the only person who had a chance of knowing. This would probably be Akira's only chance to ask. But still his stomach twists and the question rests in his throat for a few moments before he looks at her.

"What… happens to someone who dies in the Metaverse?"

Lavenza's eyes drift from his. Her smile fades, and she gazes up to the sky. "Death… is perhaps the only absolute in this world, Trickster."

Akira's heart turns to lead.

"But I am not an all-knowing being," she continues. "Much of that world remains a mystery, even to me."

Slowly, his eyes move back to the door. His heart pounds again. "And… I want to know if there's a reason this door is here. I thought my journey was over."

Lavenza is quiet.

Akira takes another step closer to the door.

"I want to go inside," he says, heart slamming against his chest so loudly he can barely hear himself. "I need to."

He catches Lavenza smiling soft in the corner of his eye.

"Very well," she says. "Let us go."

She turns, but Akira has already opened the door and stepped inside.

The Velvet Room is the same as it's always been. Cells lined the circular wall, though now all were open, including Akira's own. Akira notes, however, that this time his clothes remain unchanged, transforming into neither his prisoner's rags, nor his thief's attire.

"Welcome," a familiar voice says from the desk, "to the Velvet Room."

Akira meets Igor's gaze as he walks closer to the desk.

"I thought that things between us were said and done," Akira says.

At this, Igor simply laughs, bringing his hands together. "Indeed. Your journey has been completed. You have seized the arcana of the World, and obtained true freedom. Your soul has been refined."

"Then why are you here?" Akira asks. "Why can I even come here? Or see the door in the first place?"

Again, Igor laughs. "Hm. I wonder myself. Perhaps you are unsatisfied with this conclusion?"

"…I guess I am." He shoves his hands into his pockets, one hand clenching tightly around the key. "It's also that I just… felt the need to come here."

"Intriguing. That's the first time I've had a guest say something like that." Igor leans forward. "Would you say you're dissatisfaction is the reason you felt compelled to come here, then?"

Akira's eyes slowly fall to the floor, and he shakes his head once. "No… well, maybe a bit. But it's… more than that."

He pauses. Fate and destiny were something he would have placed no stock in this time last year. Even well into his stay in Yongen-Jaya, it wasn't something he ever really thought about. He remembers, distinctly, the first time he gave it any real consideration.

"I believe that fate brings people together."

His voice is still vivid in Akira's mind.

"Fate," Akira says. "It feels… like fate."

Igor's gaze moves to Lavenza. Akira follows it, and sees the small smile that curves onto Lavenza's face.

"This way," she says.

She walks around the desk, toward the cell directly behind Igor. Akira notices, then, that not only is this cell door closed, but behind it, against the back wall, lies another door. Its bright cyan tone stands out against the surroundings.

Lavenza stands at the side of cell, and without paying her mind Akira walks up to the barred iron door and pulls. It doesn't budge. He then pulls the blue key from his pocket, and twists it into the lock of the cell door. It clicks and the door swings open with a creak, providing him with an unobstructed view of the door within.

"What is this?" He asks.

Lavenza shakes her head. "I cannot be certain. But I do know there must be a reason this door formed itself in this cell… and I have a strong feeling that only you may enter."

Akira takes a step forward. The door is plain - overwhelmingly so, outside of its shine. He feel his body willing himself closer, an overwhelming urge to grab the knob and throw it open overtaking his muscles.

"You feel drawn to it, do you not?" Lavenza asks. Akira glances away from the door, at her curious expression, and nods his head.

There a moment of silence before Lavenza continues, "I truly don't know what happens to someone if they die in the Metaverse. However… I think this door may lead you to what you seek."

Akira takes another step forward and reaches for the door.

"Wait."

He looks back at Lavenza.

"No matter what you find through that door… I fear that there are things in this world even a Trickster such as yourself cannot change. Nor can I speak for what may happen to you in there. …You understand this, don't you?"

Akira looks back at the door. "I want to know… what's behind here. I have to."

Behind him, Igor laughs again. "You are a curious one. Your journey has been completed and your soul refined… you understand that any further steps you take on this path will be not for your own soul's sake, yes? What you seek is for another, and it could very well be fruitless… or lead you yourself to destruction."

Akira slings off his bag, placing it on the ground. Morgana hops out, and jumps onto the bed.

"Akira…" he says, looking at him with somber eyes. "Are you… sure about this?"

"I'll be back."

"I know you will," Morgana says. "But… are you sure this is worth it? Even if… even if you see something…"

The room is deadly silent.

"Wait for me," Akira says.

He opens the door - filled with nothing but bright white light - and steps past the threshold.

Only white void surrounds him, until he's taken four full steps inside, and he hears the door shut behind him. Then, colors and shapes swirl and take form around him, rapidly changing into recognizable scenery - the very alleyway he had just left, in fact. It's as if he's just come out of the Velvet Room normally.

He looks behind himself - to find nothing. No blue door, no Lavenza or Morgana.

He turns his attention back to the street ahead of him. The crowd bustles with the same noise and movement. All was normal.

Yet somehow butterflies danced in his stomach. All was normal, but foreboding creeped into his body.

His eyes continue to watch the passersby. At the very least, he should -

He catches a glimpse of eye-catching, bouncing blonde pigtails. And behind that person, a girl with strikingly fluffy hair -

- He didn't think anyone had made plans to get together today.

Akira walks briskly out of the alley, weaving through the crowd of people that had come behind his friends. As he does, he gleans split second looks between the people of everyone else - in front of Ann and Haru was Yusuke's tall figure, his head above everyone else, and at his side a girl with orange hair, who was so short it could only be Futaba. Makoto and Ryuji seemed to be with them too -

"Hey," he says as he draws closer to them. "Hey," he repeats, after not getting a response.

This time, Ann turns, and tilts her head curiously at him.

"Hey," he says, stopping with her. "What're you all doing?"

"Uh… excuse me?"

Akira meets her gaze, and their expressions sharing equal confusion.

"What's wrong, Ann?" Haru says, looking back, and tilting her head at the two of them.

"I… uh, do you need something?" Ann says, laughing awkwardly and twirling strands of hair around her finger.

"Uh," Akira stammers. "I just… wanted to know where you guys were going."

"Hey, is this guy bothering you?" Ryuji asks, joining them with a scowl on his face.

"No," Ann says, "I think he's just confused me for someone else, maybe?"

Akira just stares at them.

"Hey," Ryuji calls, looking to the rest of the group, "do any of you know this guy?"

Yusuke, Futaba, and Makoto each pull back, looking at Akira with a curious expression before shaking their heads.

"I… uh," Akira says, "I'm gonna go."

"Hey, what about you, do you know him?" Ryuji asks.

Akira had already started to turn, but he freezes entirely when he hears another person speak.

"No…"

Akira turns so fast his head spins.

Goro Akechi met his gaze with an unreadable expression, his hand at his chin.

"I can't say I recognize him," Akechi says.

A black, white-muzzled cat pokes its head out of the bag slung over his shoulder, and meows once. Akechi laughs softly.

"I don't think Morgana does either."