Hi! It's been like...5 months... *nervous laughter*

Sorry for taking so long to update, I've just been really out of it. :( Quarantine has really been getting to me. I feel much better now though, so hopefully I will be updating every few weeks instead of ghosting this story. QAQ

Also Genshin Impact has stolen so much of my time I actually forgot I wrote this fic at one point. Whoops!

Packing up was offensively short. Akira did not bring much with him when he moved to Tokyo. He had only taken a duffel bag with some of his clothes, his phone, his charger, his wallet, his glasses box and its microfiber cloth. Oh, and like, school supplies.

Wow, what a mountain of stuff.

Sojiro had told him if he wanted to take something from the attic, he could. But there really was nothing that he would like to bring with him. Maybe aside from the desk. He has grown fond of it over the years. Late nights spent hunched over it, working on making lock picks or 'bombs' for his Phantom Thieves shenanigans. Studying on it, or having that place as his seat before he'd get a table when more friends joined.

Though he's not sure if Sojiro meant something like that, he was probably referring to individual items. Not a piece of furniture.

Also, let's be real. It would be awkward to ask him to move a whole-ass desk into his house for him.

He's a little shaky with the man's hospitality. He's not used to it so early on. Akira's still a stranger to him and while Sojiro's being utterly generous, he doesn't want to push it. He doesn't want to do anything to deescalate his progress.

Akira snags the blue umbrella he knows will definitely break on him the next time he uses it.

Hey, it might be comical this time.

With one more glance around the attic, he felt his stomach sink a bit. Huh, he's leaving the café. He's going to live somewhere else. That's weird and it shouldn't be, but it is.

It's weird because these dusty walls have been his home for the past 4 years.

Sure, he spent some days and nights in Goro's stuffy apartment back in the 3rd loop, but at the end of the day he still lived here.

This is still where he's moped and planned, cried and slept, and everything in between. It was just odd, that he was going to have a change of scenery.

Maybe that's what he needs. All he's done in the past few weeks was for something new. Oh, and rest of course. He was only a mortal and doing the same shit for a few years wasn't fun.

He doesn't want to think what would become of him if he can't get this shit right within a decade. Can't imagine living the same year for 10 of them. Not shoes he wants to fill. Nor does he want to believe that was a fate of another. (Knowing how these gods viewed humans, he knew there must have been some poor unfortunate soul whose fate was such.)

No… This is good. He's gotten too comfortable with monotony and he shouldn't let a change like this scare him. He wanted change. The 3rd was proof of that.

Afterall, he's just moving a few streets down into a house. Not a big deal.

And yet…

Sojiro was obviously on the phone as he hushed his tone when Akira descended the stairs. The raven guessed he was talking to Futaba, but he could be wrong. Wouldn't be the first time.

The old man covers the lower end of the receiver with his hand. "Hey, you got everything?"

A nod.

"Alright, you can just go put them in the car. Wait in there if you want. I'll be out after this."

"'kay." Not a conversation to be eavesdropping on (not that he could without being easily caught) he went out to the car and opened the back door. He deposited his junk and went around to sit in the passenger seat.

He let out a resetting sigh. It's time.

He pulled out his phone and played some timewaster until Sojiro came out.

"Buckle up." The old man shifted gears to get the yellow car running.

Akira pulls his seatbelt down to click it in it's holder. The drive over wasn't too long, but it wasn't quiet like he had anticipated.

"Hey Kid."

"Hmmm?"

"Listen up, there's something I need to tell you."

"I'm all ears."

A scoff. "I don't live alone." The silence is taken as a prompt to continue. "My daughter-" There's just a hint of staining on that word that tells Akira that Sojiro isn't completely confident using that word yet. "Futaba, lives with me. She's… what do you kids call it these days...a hikikomori." There's a glance he gives to check if the other is making a judgemental face.

Of course, Akira's face is blank. He already knows and he doesn't mind. He hopes the two of them can get along without the interference of the Phantom Thieves. Futaba makes a lot of progress as a NEET, but...he doesn't ever get to see her go back to school. He doesn't expect her to in this loop either. He just nods.

Sojiro loosens up and focuses back on the road. "Just…let her be, alright? She's nervous that a stranger is going to live with her, so just-" a pause. Akira guessed the man was finding his words. "Don't make it hard on her, understand?"

"Loud and clear."

Inside the house things were quiet. The interior looked just like he remembered it and that creepy toad statue still sat on that one desk at the front.

The boy still didn't understand why Sojiro kept the damn thing. (Although now that he thinks about it, he never asked why he had it in the first place.)

It was normal. Because what was he expecting? For the place to catch on fire the moment he walked in? For a kaleidoscope of colors to burst forth from the walls?

What was he expecting?

It seems that the gut feeling he had was just an foreign one. Because this was a new step into the unknown and further separated itself from his previous experiences.

It felt like he was playing an entirely different game. Maybe he was just expecting it to feel like that.

Sojiro shows him his room upstairs.

Akira's eyes linger a second too long onto the door he knew led to Futaba's room. He rips his gaze away and walks into the open doorway.

It's plain. Like him. The walls were an off-bone white, the furniture was generic, and the bed had a cobalt blue blanket sprawled over it. "I know it's not much, but you can customize it to your liking while you're here." He's totally gonna put up that Rise poster. His love for her has not wilted unlike some of his resolves. Not to mention he knows exactly which magazine stand sells them too.

"It's fine. Thank you." And he inclines his head as a thanks. Sojiro puffs a smile at him and leaves him to unpack what little he had.

"I'll be making snacks downstairs. Take your time."

Akira is left alone once more. He could start unpacking right now like he was told or he could try out the bed in front of him. You know…a real actual bed that wasn't that sorry excuse on crates? A part of him is still mortified that he's so used to it. That maybe he even enjoys it.

He knows deep down he doesn't. It's just something he was very used to, nostalgic even.

As he plopped face first onto the surface of the bed, a sigh of relief left him. It was sooooo comfortable. Ugh, he's forgotten how a bed felt. He melted into it, forgoing his initiative of putting his clothes into the closet.

Okay, wow. All of that shit was worth it to be able to sleep in a real bed again. Fuckkkkkkkkkkkk, this is nice.

That's how he somehow ends up taking an unscheduled nap.

"Hey Kid, wake up. You're going to suffocate like that." Somebody was shaking him.

"Hmmmph." Akira lazily flipped himself over. The cobwebs in his brain were slowly but surely being wiped away by some underpaid imaginary person. He blinks. I left the light on. Another blink. When did I fall asleep? One more time now. Ow, my face. The dumb bitch left his glasses on.

He sits up to whip them off. He can feel the little indent mark it left, no doubt a subtle shade of red on the bridge of his nose.

Oh well, it'll disappear in a few minutes.

"Sorry," he slurs, "I didn't even realize I was tired."

"Could've fooled me." The old man left a plate of sliced peaches on his vacant desk. His eyes scan his prone form. "If you want to take a nap, go shower first." He points while talking. "The bathroom's down the hall to the left. There should be a fresh towel for you to use. I'll buy some new ones for you later."

"Hmmm, think I'll do that. Thanks."

Sojiro waves him off and leaves him to his own devices.

Peaches, huh? He hauls himself up to the desk. He should probably wash his hands first before eating. Was Futaba fond of peaches? He doesn't remember, it's such a small detail… Yet he recalls with a frim certainty that Ryuji shaves his eyebrows back so they don't extend over his brow.

It's fascinating what the brain will and won't remember.

Ah, but first the hand washing. Peaches sound good right about now.

He passes the door that leads into the den when he walks to the kitchen to place his plate in the sink. The door is slightly agape, and lights spill through. The sounds of a television plays in the background.

The vibe of now gives off the impression that day is old and night is rising, but it's still pretty early out. Day is still here and the three of them are cooped up in a house.

Odd.

Akira should probably head back upstairs for that shower now.

He blow-dries his hair in front of a foggy mirror, looking into it gives him a picture of a blurry, vague, unrecognizable figure.

The raven thinks the look suits him.

It's hard to feel like he's an independent sentient person with a will and whatnot when he thinks about his situation. He knows that destiny is real, other beings have already decided your fate.

Your past and future? It was all designed for a reason.

It doesn't have to be a good one though.

He gets to run around like a chicken without a head because he and any others involved with this metaverse shit are pawns for an intense game of chest. If your chess pieces have their own (granted, limited) mobility and you got to bet on them.

How is watching him go through the same year over and over entertaining? If he doesn't satisfy their boredom, will they eradicate him? If he doesn't somehow wake up again after defeat, will Yaldabaoth be able to reform the world as he so pleases? Or will that Butterfly Man come in and stop him?

He seems powerful enough to stop him or as far as the boy was concerned, he seemed to be.

Akira hates the fact he didn't even know the name of the damn being that he proxies for. He only refers to him as the 'Butterfly Man' because of all the butterfly imagery connected to his servants! He's never seen nor met this elusive 'god'.

Can he even call him such? Is that what he is?

Or is he just another false deity relishing in the good graces of life?

Akira turns the dryer off and unplugs it from the wall. While he wraps the cord around it and readies to place it back in a cabinet, he looks up at his reflection once more.

It's nearly all clear now, only remnants of fog dance along the borders.

He stares at his face. Smooth skin and long lashes. Gray dull eyes and a frown that doesn't typically leave. His hair is floofy and he combs it with his fingers without thinking.

Kurusu Akira looks at the face of the being in the mirror.

The feeling that curls in his chest is resentment. It's for everyone and everything.

Even himself.

The next day has the raven thinking to himself— It's going to be a long two weeks.

That much is probably undeniable.

Also homework is gonna be a bitch to catch up. He might know the curriculum by now, but paperwork is still paperwork. Nothing's gonna change that.

He lies in bed (a comfortable spot indeed), checking his phone for things to distract himself with. He woke up later than he thought he would. Mishima was in the middle of one of his classes right now, so he'd have to wait until lunch time to text the boy.

He occupied his time with talking to Sojiro downstairs. The man was still going to work, but he decided he'll open later than usual. It was really more of a rundown than anything. Where to find things around the house, not to brother Fubata and just leave her food in front of her door, and asking whether or not he could cook.

"Actually, I'll have you know I'm a pretty decent cook." A smirk painted his face. It couldn't be helped.

"Is that so?" The old man raised a brow. "Make something for me then." It was a challenge.

"You're on."

He was done preparing the main dish and was scoping rice into a small bowl. Sojiro needed to leave after this, but he watched the teen cook with mild interest in his eyes. "So fish, huh?"

He smiles nervously. "Hope that was okay."

The old man shrugs. "Hey, if I didn't want you to use that, I would've stopped you."

Fair enough.

He places the bowl next to the cooked fish, lightly seasoned with a whip of sauce he found laying in the cupboards. Not as risky as it sounds, he was familiar with the bottle.

Akira takes Futaba's plate downstairs to wash with the others.

Now there were just the two of them in the house. He had expected her to at least open her door the barest amount to hand him her plate, but by the time he arrived at her door, a dish was set in front of it.

In other timelines she would at least peek out and hand it over, but that was when she had a little time to adjust to his presences and consequently his friends. Here he is early and thrown into her area without much of a notice. Maybe he was expecting too much, Sojiro really has been throwing him for a loop.

Classic Futaba.

He can acknowledge that her behavior isn't good nor healthy...but she's not in the headspace for new faces, and he can respect that.

On the other hand, he needed to figure out how to coax her out of her shell and convince her of the fact she's innocent without the whole heart-stealing part.

Hmmm, he needs to brainstorm, thought maybe not while washing dishes. There's a few knives behind the faucet and he'd rather not cut himself with soap on his hands. It would only be pain.

It is then when he realizes something. I don't know where they keep the gloves in this house.

Contact: Mishima

Mishima: How was your first day in the new place?

Akira: I washed dishes.

Mishima: Hmmm. Didn't take you for the househusband sort of guy.

Akira: Oh hell yeah id make a great trophy husband.

Akira: I'd stare longingly out the window with my Apron on wondering when my wife will return back from the war

Mishima: XD

Mishima: Your Hilarious

Akira shook his head. If Mishima uses the wrong form of you're one more time over text, Imma strangle him.

He's joking of course, but a not-so-subtle passing of a dictionary would do wonders. Aren't actions louder than words after all?

He writes in his phone's notes to pick up a mini dictionary later down the line.

Mishima: But seriously, how are you feeling?

Now that is a good question. How is he feeling? Tired, probably; but also incredibly anxious. He wants to sleep in for longer than he should. He wants to get out of the house and stretch his legs. He wants to talk to Futaba as if they have known each other for years. And not just on his account. He wants-

Oh that doesn't matter. He doesn't want the other boy to worry for him, he's done enough of that already.

Although, one must admit it feels nice to be fussed over.

Akira: Honest?

Akira: Man I just kinda feel drained

Akira: Between moving to a big city, attending a new school, and moving twice

Akira: It's been a lot is all

Akira: I just need time I guess

More honesty than he intended slipped through his fingers, but it did sound reasonable, didn't it? All he had to do was play the part of an overwhelmed teenager and Mishima can leave with his concerns quelled.

Mishima: That's sucks. :(

Mishima: Hey, if you need someone to talk to im always here. :)

Akira chuckled. He honestly doesn't remember him being this much of a bleeding heart in the other timelines. Or maybe I just appear that pathetic this time around.

It's food for thought, really.

It's later in the day when he puts down his phone from texting Mishima that he finally decides to check.

For what you might ask? Bugs of course.

Not the crawly exoskeleton things, but rather the sneaky spy sort. You know, bugs.

Surely Futaba bugged the place.

The café had bugs in the downstairs area, set by her so that she could keep an eye on Sojiro. In case anything were to happen. Especially since her uncle was a nutcase after some fictional life insurance money from his estranged deceased sister.

The attic wasn't bugged for the sole reason she saw no point to monitor a dusty area nobody went to. Even after he moved in, she had explained to him in a previous loop that she was nervous to bug a room where a teenage boy would be staying in… Considering…

Anyway…that aside, she would set up more sound recorders in the café section to ensure this 'delinquent' wouldn't give Sojiro any trouble.

It's awfully sweet of her. If not a physical manifestation of her paranoia, which is to say…

"Hmmm, thought so." He found one already. Behind the bed frame was a tiny little device. He thought about crushing it at first, but ultimately decided that might come off as a bit too violent and scary to her. Best he gathered them all up and placed them in a bag. Maybe leave them at her door.

Or...would that also come off as too threatening? She might misunderstand…

Hmmm… What to do, what to do…?

He could decide upon that later. First step first, he needed to locate them all.

A bug here, a bug there. One under his bed frame, another in the inner corner of his wardrobe, two under the small desk, and another under the accompanying seat.

When counted all up, he had 9 bugs in total. It felt like too much and yet too little. He was in a small confined room, was it really necessary to lay out that many? Was she that frightened by his arrival? Perhaps some were duds.

That wouldn't make sense for Futaba to place duds out unless she anticipated me finding them or knew to look for them. Which I highly doubt that she gave me benefit of the doubt for.

What was he going to do with them?

Ultimately Akira had decided to leave them there. If they made her feel safe about the fact that he was intruding in her comfort zone, then so be it. It's not like he talks in his sleep and will reveal all of his deepest darkest secrets.

With that said, the rest of his not so little break is spent in a routine. He watches shows downstairs he knows Futaba like. Phoenix Ranger Featherman R, Kamen Rider Den-O, and that one pony show he's too embarrassed to admit to.

Only three days in of doing so, Sojiro hands over an older laptop model. Stating Futaba wanted him to give it to him because she pitied at the fact he only owned a phone.

Akira accepts gratefully, but smirks inside knowing why she decided to part with one of her extra laptops. He assumes by default they must be some sort of spyware on the device and makes sure to use it carefully.

Mishima comes by Sojiro's place when he can to drop off the day's or few day's worth of assignments from classes.

The old man didn't permit the blue haired boy in, but Akira was allowed to talk to him in the little closed off area outside the house. Notes are sent through text, which Akira isn't fussy about. He doesn't really need them and doesn't expect Mishima to have enough time to copy extra notes for him when the boy is probably managing the Phansite and whatever shenanigans the PTs are up to.

Sometimes they linger too long outside and chat about irrelevant topics for far too long, but honest? While Akira doesn't mind, Mishima does. A buzz from his phone typically gets him cursing and having to excuse himself to do something.

Yusuke. Akira thinks. They must be dealing with him. It's that time now, isn't it?

Madarame... I wonder how they're gonna deal with him?

The realization of the reason behind Mishima's time belonging to that, it gave him too much material to ponder about. Getting Yusuke on their side was a clumsy step in the dark and luck (fate technically, he knew better) on their side.

Would it go just as smoothly (poorly) for them as it typically does? How does all these new changes affect the timeline at this point?

Lots of questions, but even more homework.

Paperwork is still paperwork after all.

One of those days he leaves the confines of the house to just stretch his legs and touch grass. Also making sure he left during after school hours as to not attach any unwanted attention. Especially the police.

He happens to linger around the train station when deciding where he should head to next, as he didn't plan this trip out. It was more so just to be outside and walk around.

Beyond the platform was that bridge that overlooked the people walking below. A familiar set of faces were converging against the railings. Ann seemed to be in a heated argument with Ryuji about something. Suzui sat on the floor, looking up at her friends' bickering.

Akira was too far away to make it out. Not to mention the sounds of the folks around him no doubt drowned them out. Unintentionally, he makes eye contact with Mishima, thus sealing his fate. The shorter boy waves over to him and he waves back.

Goddamnit.

He is waved over and he makes his trek over to the teens. Looking back at the PTs hangout spot, it was rather...well… It was a horrible place to talk business in. Way too out in the open and they looked like they were some trouble making teens planning something suspicious. Tagging walls or something.

Unfortunately, going forward into the next loop that he no doubt will be thrusted in; if he wanted his next try to successfully win this game, he can't go around changing much. Even something as simple as the hangout spot is important. Because it is so easy to overhear them does lead them further down the line to their goal.

The blond(e)s seemed to notice that someone was joining them and dropped their disagreement, but not before Ann elbows Ryuji in the stomach.

The huff of a laugh that leaves him does so without his permission.

His short friend is the first to greet him, saying what a coincidence it is that he's here. He gestures at the others behind him and offers to introduce them to him.

Akira shrugs. "So these are your elusive friends."

"Ha ha. Yeah, elusive...sure."

Awkward as always…

"So! Guys, this is Kurusu-kun. Kurusu-kun meets Ann-s—I mean, Takamaki-san," he points to the blonde first, "Sakamoto-kun," the faux blond nods at him in a silent greeting, "and Suzui-san." Mishima uses their last names given the fact Akira is supposed to be unfamiliar with them. But the slip-up tells him all he needs to know.

It's one thing to refer to them by their given names over text, but in real life?

They've moved on without him and Mishima now fills that void where he should've been. It's so eerie to see them like this, it forces him to realize they never needed him in the first place.

But when he notices Suzui…

Suzui is a pleasant addition to the group. Seeing her hanging with friends, skin without blemishes or bruises, smiling politely at him, thriving.

If there's anything that went right this loop, it's finally being able to spare Suzui of the cards she was dealt. He failed her every other time. He didn't care that the loop he prevented Kamoshida from acting against her was a break for him. He now knows, he knows it's possible to tell fate to screw off and he'll be damned if he doesn't make sure the next loop she is happy and healthy.

Yes...for sure...in the next loop he'll pick up all the slack he's been putting off. He hopes next time is the last. That he can finally get it right next time.

He may have unlimited tries, but that doesn't mean he's eager to take advantage of such.

The teens in front of him look awkward at his arrival and Akira can't help but find it endearing.

It's probably because they know, isn't it?

And there's that bitter taste in his mouth again.

"Hello there!" Ann speaks next, giving him a little wave. He can't but notice her nails are done pink.

He nods at her. "Hello there. Mishima-kun spoke a little bit about you guys. Didn't expect to meet ya'll today."

Ryuji scoffs. "Yeah, Bud. We didn't expect anyone to interrupt us today."

"Oh." he noises. He can tell from the face Ryuji makes that the boy just realized how aggressive that came off as.

He notices Morgana peers out of Ann's bag from the floor and he tries to not linger on the sight. What he does watch in full is Mishima grinding his heel into Ryuji's foot, causing the other boy to yelp.

Internally he's laughing, but outwardly he drops his shoulders and apologizes. This is his way out of this interaction.

Now, it's not that he doesn't want to talk to them, butttt he doesn't want to talk to them. At least, not for long. It just feels wrong to. They're not his friends here, but he knows he'll act too familiar with them and he'd rather not come off as some sort of weirdo.

"Sorry. I was just taking a walk. I'll leave now." With that Akira turns heel to waltz back to the trains and fling himself into the void, probably.

"Uh, wait! You don't have to leave so soon."

He turns to see Suzui stand up from the ground and take a step towards him.

He shakes his head. "No really, it's okay. I wasn't planning to stay out long anyway."

"Are you sure?" It's Mishima this time.

"I'm sure."

Even later into the second week Akira decides to peek at the Phansite out of curiosity. The request and comments on the site have led him to believe the PT are no doubt traversing mementos alreadly, if not trying to fulfill a request. Maybe they are that efficient, maybe not. There's no way of telling.

The 2 weeks crawl to an overhead, leading to the 19th. Tomorrow he'll be back in school having to deal with ridiculous rumors.

He's one part dreading how annoying it will be and two parts interested to see how wild and out of hand they got. The students at his school were creative, if not judgmental.

When lunch rolls around and he makes something for himself and Futaba, he slips a handwritten note under her dish. He leaves the plate in front of her door as he has been doing for the last couple of days. A heavy knock and he walks back to his room, dumping his own plate on his desk.

Hi.

My name is Kurusu Akira, but Sakura-san probably already told you that.

I just wanted to say hi and apologize for being moved into your place. I understand if my presence here makes you feel uncomfortable, so I'm willing to leave those bugs I found in my room alone if that makes you feel safe.

Can't necessarily blame you for that.

I just wanted to reach out to you in case you wanted someone to talk to. Trust me, I know what it's like to be lonely. All my so-called "friends", even my family haven't called me for months, even before I moved here. My teacher and principal think I'm just a hassle they don't want to deal with. My first week in school, a dozen rumors spread about me from that I'm somehow a Yakuza Godfather's son to being an exotic elephant tusk smuggler. Can you believe it? The only guy who'd even talk to me is this timid shy kid who seems to be the worst volleyball player in his team. The first time I spoke to him he just got a serving of volleyball right to the face.

So if you can believe it, Sakura-san was the first person since I moved here just to be nice to me. Between you and me, I can tell he's a big softie despite his grumpy attitude. He's just like Featherman Red Hawk's teacher: all tough and gruff on the outside, but really cares about the team in his own way.

I just want to pay that kindness forward, so you ever need anything or just want to talk, I'll be here for you.

And if you want me to leave you alone, then I'll respect your wishes as well.

- Kurusu Akira

P.S. By the way, thanks for the laptop. You saved me from making a trip to Akihabara. I don't know if a country bumpkin like me could survive a trip there to be honest.

He later hears the noise of a door opening and closing, signifying she was done. He moseyed on over to collect it and wash it downstairs but not before checking if she had written back.

Nothing.

He frowns at the sight but...he should've expected this. She's probably not comfortable yet. He's not going to force her to open up. He can wait.

He's been waiting for everything for a long time.

At dinner time he doesn't try again, but leaves out her food and returns to his room to eat his.

But when he goes to pick up her plate that night, he saw something that made his heart sink.

His note resting on top of the dinner plate. Without realizing it, he picked up the piece of paper, a mixture of emotions coursing through him.

Had she left it out to state she wanted nothing to do with him? Was it her way of throwing it out? Considering she leaves her trash all over her room and doesn't bother taking it out until Sojiro scolds her to do so, placing his note outside is more effort than she usually puts for garbage.

It wasn't until he made it to the kitchen and deposited Futaba's dishes that he noticed something off about his letter. Years of running around with Third Eye trained him to notice small details. An indentation on the bottom of the note near to where he signed it.

Eyes widening, he flips the note over and sees in tiny little writing a long string of numbers and letters.

An invite code for a chat log.

He smiles.

Honestly my writing is suffering and so am I. :'^)

Sorry this chapter wasn't as fluffy as I hyped it up to be, but more will come in the future. Futaba will take awhile to come out of her shell w/o her heart being stolen so I'll take a bit for them to really click.

See ya next chapter! Green Pencil Case Boy will join Smash the arena. ;) And this time he'll have a name!