A/n: Well overdue, the conclusion to my (3) part story series for Persona 5. I appreciate your time and feedback and hope you felt something along the way.
LeBlanc
Many summers passed, and LeBlanc café expanded in partnership with Okumura Inc.
A remote location in Seoul and a new place in Brooklyn. Akira found opening a third store was exactly what he needed.
His early to mid-30s were far more interesting than his twenties. The summer before he turned thirty – he proposed to the love of his life and was rejected. His heart hurt him in a way it never had before. Breaking up with Ann that last time threw him into such despair he closed shop.
He stopped eating. He barely slept. His hair grew to such lengths by the time Yusuke and Ryuji had time to visit him together, they mistook him for a vagrant. They blamed the conflicting schedules of being a new father and a famous art professor who recently started a new relationship with the muse/love of his life.
While all his lifelong friends were living the extraordinary – he was nothing. He believed he'd never be anything. He wasn't ambitious enough. He didn't make as much money as they did. He wasn't as well-traveled, creative, or athletic or anything.
He was complacent, and despite his love for Ann and her love for him, he was too comfortable being comfortable. It cost him.
Though his loved ones reassured him, who he was in their lives, wasn't anything short of life-changing – he couldn't help but blame himself. He believed it more than he believed the sun would rise. Despite anyone saying it to him, he thought he wasn't enough.
Depression wasn't unknown to him, but never to this. He was always able to overcome. Why couldn't he overcome this?
So – after the near year, Haru made him an offer.
"I want to become a shareholder in LeBlanc. You should also acquire some shares."
He stared at her, peculiar. The steam of their piping coffees fogged his glasses.
"LeBlanc is a small business."
"I know. And if you let me – I can help you make it a much bigger business. You won't need to do anything you're uncomfortable with, but Akira – there's more to you and more to this café."
He looked at her and realized she was correct. His identity began to become LeBlanc. He began to equate his worth to it. Though it would always have a place in his heart, LeBlanc was special because of the people who came together in that space. Without them, it was just a café.
He treated LeBlanc like he and it were the same.
Haru began to break down her offer. "We don't have to be a crazy global franchise. We could expand a bit more. Do more. You're not just a barista. People came here for Sakura-san, and now they come here for you. LeBlanc is nothing without you."
He looked into his cup of black coffee.
"I came here because of you. We all did." Haru's smile at that moment did something to him. It made him realize he loved helping people in the simplest ways. His ways. A hot cup of coffee. Being an attentive listener. Simple flowers. A witty joke. Silence.
Being heartbroken made him feel lost, but it also forced him to see himself for the first time in a long time.
The following year, he opened a petite closet café in Seoul. Upon his return to Japan - once the store was functional without him - he dated again and found he even fell in love again.
Yoshizawa Sumire was a schoolmate they had some adventures with as Phantom Thieves back in the day and a talented athlete. Her career had gone well, but she stopped competing and began to coach small children. It was better for her overall mental wellness.
They reconnected on Shibuya streets when she went to buy a new pair of glasses and saw him just as he was purchasing his own. A different style for the first time since he began to wear them. Same shape, but a dark blue. Okay – he hadn't changed that much.
Glasses he did not need eventually became part of his life. Now, 30 plus, and according to his optometrist – he required it when reading.
He and Sumire caught up over LeBlanc coffee. At some point, the coffee turned into a first date. And the first date turned into a nightcap at his place.
Months later, after many weekends of waking up together, he asked, "Do you want to move in?"
To which Sumire replied, "Marry me."
At thirty-two, Akira and Sumire found themselves legally married, celebrating with a small, intimate dinner with friends at LeBlanc. A gathering Ann was invited to but didn't attend or reply to. Later that year, Sumire gave birth to their daughter, named after her late twin, Kasumi. Dark hair like her father and eyes like her mother.
Sakamoto Hikaru was obsessed with a baby smaller than him on play dates. Niijima Yohanna was already exhausted of her cousin, though still a child herself.
Akira was a proud new father. He didn't know the joys of fatherhood would give him such life.
At thirty-four – Akira was frequently between Brooklyn and Japan; he felt the strain on his marriage. Though they didn't fight, he knew when Sumire was upset with him. She'd go into hiding, come back late from runs without saying anything, and take Kasumi to her family for long weekends without letting him know. When they did talk, she accused him of cheating, of his mind being somewhere else.
She was only half right.
Akira opened LeBlanc in Brooklyn as he learned New Yorkers had a coffee culture similar to Japan's. And for other reasons.
He liked plays.
As time went on, Ann's acting career took off. She wasn't an A-list in Hollywood but a local New York talent. She did films here and there, but theater stayed in her heart. She sold off her makeup line years ago to a young queer interracial couple. She trusted their vision and had one condition – she'd continue to model for them.
When taking the train, he'd see her in ads. He turned away from the poster of a girl. When his heart missed her too profoundly, he sometimes saw her shows. He would sit in the furthest row from the front. He'd watch, entranced and in love with the same eyes he first met her with. Then he'd train back downtown to LeBlanc and work until she was the furthest thing from his mind. No matter how late. No matter the night.
LeBlanc Brooklyn would be his most significant endeavor yet. It was to be an intimate café with an evening menu and the first LeBlanc with a liquor license.
The process was stressful and took months to complete. His relationship with Sumire couldn't survive the distance. As many battles he'd won in life, he couldn't beat time lost. He couldn't beat the ocean.
The two filed for divorce a month before opening and agreed to joint custody. Haru traveled to New York frequently and would bring Kasumi with her whenever he wasn't in his home country.
She was always too good for him. And friends suited them better.
In their mid-thirties, Haru was engaged to a handsome architect, a few years younger than her. He was Korean American, and though they dated for only a few months, it was love at first sight – a feeling he knew well and, at their wedding, found he envied. The feeling of love.
Thirty-six found Akira as a single, divorced father of a four-year-old. It was a special night, as the restaurant was rented out for a private party. The head chef would be in shortly, but Akira liked putting the final touches on the venue. His personalized touch was what made him a pretty penny.
Outside the restaurant – the small but well-trained and mature Kasumi practiced her stretches, taught to her by her mother. She stopped seeing a beautiful dark blonde woman approach in the nicest clothes she'd ever seen on a grown-up. She stared at her in awe. Was she a movie star? She wondered.
"Daddy - a guest is here. A guest is here!" Kasumi chimed. She hid behind her father's legs as he set the tables. Akira looked down at his daughter, puzzled by her excitement. She wasn't unfamiliar with guests, and it was still too early for guests to arrive.
The unidentified woman entered the café, walked down a few steps to the ground level, and made her way in.
Ann was more beautiful than he remembered. More beautiful than on stage or in the ads. Long straight hair that she carefully placed behind her ear. Those ocean eyes always swayed him.
Time and work had encouraged her to tone down some of her fashion choices. Like a New Yorker, she wore all-black but very stylish earrings that called attention to her face.
Akira was everything she ever remembered and more. A full head of hair that he brushed back to dress up a bit. He tried something new in the last few months and had a few white highlights here and there.
His same glasses, but red this time. A color they both wore well.
A classic white button-down, dark jeans, and an apron.
Some things never changed.
They locked eyes as teenagers in the rain twenty years ago.
She carefully made her way past the tiny bistro-sized tables. She placed her designer handbag beside one of his elegant floral arrangements. Eyes never moving, never unfixed.
"Is the coffee good here? I always like a cup of espresso after dinner." She asked because her assistant made the reservations. She'd been so busy; she didn't check the restaurant's details; she showed up as instructed in her itinerary.
She stopped talking to Akira when she left Japan and rejected his proposal. Their mutuals avoided mentioning one to the other. They were ghosts of phantom thieves' past.
"Yes. We take great pride in our coffee here at LeBlanc." His English was impeccable, "would you like to try a cup?"
Ann smiled. He learned the language. His Japanese accent decorated the words in a way that was music to her ears.
"Always."
- Fin
