It's only hours later, after the sun has begun to sink under the horizon, that the Thieves decide to take their leave. They're loath to abandon each other after the chaos of their fight with Yaldabaoth and the immediate confusion of the loop, but Ryuji and Makoto are finally forced to return to their waiting families to field off questions about their frenzied, unexplained flights from their homes. Akira reminds them of the plan before they go, as well as caution them about the train crashing tomorrow afternoon. There's a mental shutdown scheduled for the subway operator, after all.

Well, there should be, at least. Whether or not it will actually happen this time around is a mystery that Akira itches to solve.

Left alone, he and Ann sit next to each other in amiable silence, quietly arranging the space on his bookshelves into something manageable. Eventually, Ann sits back, dusting her hands off with a tired groan. Akira can't quite bring himself to relax, but he stops when he sees her rub her eyes. "You ready to leave?" he asks her. "The train lines will be closing soon." He doesn't bother to lower his voice for the sleeping Futaba's sake - Akira knows that once she's out, she won't rise until she's forced to.

Instead of answering, Ann hunches in on herself and side-eyes Akira. "Your room isn't finished yet," she states, and he hums noncommittally. It's more done than he's ever able to finish on his own, anyway. At his non-answer, she continues, "You could stay at my place, tonight, if you want."

At this Akira turns to face her fully, eyebrows raised. He hadn't - they hadn't dated last time, had they? He had planned the last loop down to the finest detail, from the order of his daily errands to the exact words he'd spoken to the people around him. There was no way that Ann saw him romantically, was there? Unless they had been together, and Akira had just forgotten, again. Could he have missed such a major development? More than ever, he wishes that his journals crossed the timeline with him. "What?"

Ann flushes, cheeks burning bright red. "Not like that!" she exclaims. "I just -" she huffs, and then says, quieter, "I just really don't want to be alone right now, you know?"

Akira's eyes soften, and he scoots closer to her. "I'm sorry, Ann," he says, and her face falls, "but I promised to talk to Boss about all of this."

"Oh!" she says, hugging her knees to her chest. "He seemed really upset earlier. D'you need any help convincing him?"

Akira huffs a laugh. "Don't worry about me. I've managed to convince him about looping before. I have practice, you know." He's never had practice telling a Sojiro who was still a complete stranger to him, but practice nonetheless. That had to count for something, right?

"You've already told him about the time loops?"

"This isn't your first time finding out either," Akira reminds her gently. "I've gone through all this before."

"But this time will be your last!" Ann says confidently, a determined set to her jaw.

Akira smiles at her, but it's empty. "Yeah, of course," he says. There are too many unknown variables, everything on the verge of spinning out of control, but-

Ann rubs at her arms and straightens her legs, preparing to stand. Akira beats her to it and reaches out a hand to help her to her feet. He lets go of her the moment she is fully upright, skin still crawling from the sheer amount of physical contact he'd been forced to endure over the course of the day. "I'll walk you out," he tells her. Akira can't help but take a moment to check his phone again as she walks ahead of him, fingers tingling uncomfortably as it displays no new notifications. Multiple texts and missed calls later, Yusuke still hasn't responded. With a sigh, he sets his phone down and joins Ann at the top of the stairs.

Futaba is still curled up on his unmade bed, dead to the world, and Akira leaves her be as he and Ann make their way downstairs. He immediately freezes upon seeing Sojiro at the doorway, pinning Akira in an angry hawk's stare. Next to him, Ann whispers a final "good luck" and flees the cafe. Sojiro's eyes snap to the door as the bell chimes, locking it behind her and trapping him and Akira inside. Mouth dry, Akira forces himself to relax and leans against a booth seat. He's faced much more terrifying threats than a disapproving Sojiro.

"I let you have your alone time with your friends, then. Heard some of their yelling, too. Now it's my turn." Sojiro starts their imitation of an interrogation with, "Where's Futaba?"

Akira tilts his head towards the stairs. "Asleep. She's like a battery. If she spends too much energy at once, she has to recharge." A pause. "Futaba slept for nearly a month after the first time we met."

Sojiro's lips purse, displeased that Akira knew that information, maybe. "Sounds like you were a bad influence, then."

"No, she reached out to us. She wanted us to change her heart."

"Change her what?"

"This is going to be hard to believe."

"Try me."

"It has to do with Wakaba Isshiki's research into cognitive psience."

Sojiro startles. "Who told you about Wakaba? Futaba?"

Akira drums his fingers on the smooth leather back of the booth in a haphazard beat. "You did. She was doing top secret research into cognitive psience. Her work was dangerous to the government, so Masayoshi Shido arranged for her to be murdered. It was staged as a suicide, and the blame was put on Futaba." Sojiro gapes, and Akira goes in for the kill. "A few weeks before she died, she told you that she thought she was going to die soon. You thought she was joking and now it's your biggest regret. That's why you took in Futaba from her uncle."

Sojiro shakes his head and backs away from Akira. "You're lying," he hisses. "Shido was always a cunning son of a bitch, but there was no way Wakaba was killed!"

"Wakaba loved Futaba too much to kill herself," Akira says. He takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. "You always knew that, didn't you?"

"Where are you even getting this information? Did you hack into the government databases or something? Brat, if you're dragging Futaba into something illegal, I'm kicking you out!"

Akira physically recoils at that. "I thought you trusted me."

"Trust you? Kid, you've been asking me to do that all damn day, but you've given absolutely nothing to show for it except for some half-baked excuses. Futaba may have told you. How do I know you're not just trying to trick her?"

"I would never do that! To her, or to you! She's like a sister to me, and you're like-!" Akira cuts himself off, running his hands through his hair in agitation. He was getting too worked up, the day's emotional whiplashes catching up to him like an uncontrollable tidal wave, threatening to do something dangerous, like make him cry. What could he possibly even say to salvage this outburst?

Finally, "You taught me how to make your curry."

Sojiro blinks at that, thrown. "What?"

"It was your recipe, originally, but then Wakaba upgraded it." He nods towards the leftover ingredients on the counter, untouched after Sojiro's premature closure of Leblanc. "I can show you?"

It's a gamble, but Akira has the recipe memorized, and spent nearly twenty years perfecting it. Logically, there was no one else that Sojiro would have taught his recipe to: he'd never taken in employees, and even if he had, would be reluctant to show it to a complete stranger. Whether or not Sojiro accepts his offering is another story altogether.

Predictably, Sojiro's reaction is to cross his arms, head tilted downwards as he glares. His gaze slides to the ingredients before skipping back to meet Akira's. After a tense standoff, Sojiro says, "I'm not giving you a recipe."

Bingo. With a cockier tone than he'd intended, Akira says, "I don't need one."

Sojiro's eyebrows quirk as Akira sweeps behind the counter, grabbing an apron to fasten over his Shujin uniform as he goes. "Pretty confident then, aren't you?" Sojiro asks as he joins Akira, choosing to slouch against the coffee beans to grant himself a direct view of Akira's hands.

Akira smirks, snatching various ingredients from their shelves rather than meeting Sojiro's judging eyes. "Dangerously so," he quips.

As he pulls out the weathered cutting board and gets to work on the vegetables, Sojiro finally asks, noticeably calmer, "So, how did you know all of that? Futaba would have never told you any of the stuff you just said."

"Futaba said it, at the beginning." Akira takes a deep, fortifying breath. "I'm stuck in a time loop. I have been for a while now."

Sojiro is silent, digesting the information. Finally, "Let's say I believe you, then. How long is a while?"

Akira swallows. "It got hard to keep track, after the first few loops. There's not exactly a way for me to keep note when everything resets, but it's been a couple decades by now, I think."

Sojiro lets out a low whistle. "Being stuck at sixteen for twenty years? Kid, I think I'd go insane."

"You have no idea," Akira says with a sigh, emptying the sliced vegetables into the pot. "They don't always last the same length. It starts today, April 9th, on the train ride here. I usually get to early December, at least, before it restarts."

"What restarts it?"

"I die," Akira says, and it's somehow easier to break the news to his father figure than his friends. Practice makes perfect, after all. "It doesn't matter how."

"You die?" Sojiro exclaims, loud and sudden enough to make Akira jump. "Holy shit, kid!" Sojiro runs a hand over his head, distressed. "Do you remember it? Does it hurt you?"

Akira can't stop a tiny smile at the concern. This is a definite improvement from Sojiro's furious outbursts ten minutes ago. "I mean, yeah. Dying sucks. But it's not like any injuries carry over or whatever, so it's fine."

"'So it's fine,' bullshit," snaps Sojiro. "Why do you keep dying, then? High schoolers aren't known for their tendency to drop dead at any given moment. What is it, the yakuza?"

Akira looks up from carefully cutting meat. "I told you. It's about cognitive psience. Messing around with it is dangerous, and I've never been the most careful about using it."

"How do you even - nevermind," Sojiro throws up his hands, "I don't want to know. Are all of your friends in on this, too?"

"Yeah, but I'm the only one who loops." He adds, "But everybody else remembered too, this time. I don't - I don't know why. I don't know what I did differently."

"First time for everything," Sojiro mutters. "That's why you wanted to talk to them alone, right? And why you seemed as shocked as everybody else when you saw Futaba." A pause, and then, "That means she's involved in this too, isn't she?"

Akira bites the inside of his cheek. "Yeah. She usually doesn't join us until July, and even then, there's been a few times that she doesn't even do that." He answers Sojiro's unasked question, "She doesn't fight, though, not like the rest of us. She's a lot more removed from the danger than we are."

"How come?"

"She's our navigator, in the Metaverse," Akira doesn't bother to elaborate on that. "It's complicated. We all have to fight our way through, but she just guides us and provides backup when we need it."

"If it's so dangerous, why do you all keep going in? Have you ever tried just being normal?"

"Tried that once, didn't work," Akira says. "Besides, going into the Metaverse helps people. Us changing Futaba's heart is the reason she was able to even come out here today. Somebody has to do it, and it might as well be me." He points at the coffee rack behind Sojiro. "Hey, could I grab some of that?"

"Why?" Sojiro asks even as he moves aside.

"Coffee enhances the flavor!" Akira says brightly as he slips by. He grabs a cup of the Mocha Matari beans as he goes. "It'll make the curry more bitter, and the chocolate and wine undertones of this blend gives it depth!"

"Show off," Sojiro says. "So, then, you live under my roof and keep all of these secrets from me?"

"You usually find out."

"Not by you telling me?"

"You're sharp enough on your own."

"Ever brought that danger back with you, then?"

"Depends on what you define as danger."

"Tch, brat." Sojiro stares down the stove as Akira begins adding the spices. "Don't bother making rice with that. I'll be fine without it."

"Alright," Akira responds easily. "Although, you should know that rice is a staple and balances out any dish-"

"Shut it," Sojiro grumbles half-heartedly, and Akira can't help but laugh.

He's just setting the curry to simmer when they turn to hear the sounds of someone loudly clambering down the attic stairs. "Akira's making curry!" Futaba sing-songs as she reaches the ground floor. She hops onto one of the bar stools and rests her chin in her hand, orange hair still tangled from sleep. "Have you convinced Sojiro we're not crazy yet?"

Akira sneaks a glance over to their guardian, who is still staring at Futaba with unguarded wonder. Seeing her so animated and social after years of total lethargy and finally being unburdened of the guilt of her mother's death must be nothing short of a miracle to him. Noticing Akira looking at him, Sojiro chuckles. "Not even close," he tells Futaba.

She groans dramatically, letting her head fall forward onto the bar. "Ugh, stupid Sojiro," she mumbles into the polished wood.

"Curry's done!" Akira announces after a sizable pause. After a moment's thought, he ladles the steaming curry onto three separate plates. It's not as spicy as he usually makes it, but he's pretty sure Sojiro wouldn't appreciate him putting much love into it right now.

Futaba wrinkles her nose when Akira sets her plate down in front of her. "No rice?"

"That's what I said, too!"

"Hush, both of you," Sojiro says. He picks at his own helping, brow furrowing in concentration as he examines it. In the meantime, Akira starts to eat, leaning one hip against the kitchen sink to balance himself. In this timeline, he hasn't eaten anything in hours, but mentally, he hasn't eaten anything all day besides a stale katsu bun that his nerves reduced to tasting like sawdust. Despite how perilous the situation itself is, eating hot curry in Leblanc surrounded by his adopted family was comforting in its familiarity. There are few things that he bothers to keep relatively constant, and this is one of them.

The times that he doesn't allow himself this simple support system tend not to be timelines that he's particularly fond of.

Akira and Futaba both watch Sojiro with bated breath as he takes his first bite. Mulling it over, he finally admits, "It's good."

"Good?" Futaba exclaims incredulously. She shoves another spoonful in her mouth. "Akira's curry is great!"

Sojiro sighs harshly. "Listen, kid," he says to Akira. "Your story is outlandish. It sounds like you're just telling me the plot of one of those weird space shows," Akira cringes, so Sojiro adds, "but, I worked in the government for a while," when no one reacts to the information, he mutters, "which I guess you already knew. Anyway," he shakes his head, "it gives you a feel of when people are lying to me, and you," he jabs his spoon at Akira, "aren't."

Futaba lights up. "So everything's okay?"

Sojiro squints at him, suspicious. "I'll make a deal with you," he tells Akira. "I'll let you stay here and take care of you. But, the moment you start dragging that stuff back here with you out of the Meta-whatever, you're leaving Futaba out of it. I can't stop you from whatever it is you do, but I'm not going to let you hurt her! I won't hesitate to kick you outta here so fast it'll make your head spin. Am I clear?"

Sojiro made a deal with him. Lavenza is silent. There's no confidant written. The Hierophant arcana is nonexistent.

"Sojiro!" Futaba hisses. They both ignore her.

Akira nods back at Sojiro. "I won't let you down."

"Also, I'm making you help around the shop. Your curry is passable." When Akira opens his mouth to argue, he says, "You're a bit heavy handed with that coffee, kid. You still have plenty to learn."

"If you say so."

"I do say so. Kids, I'm gonna head out. I need to think. You," he points at Futaba, "get home fast, and you," he turns to Akira, "finish cleaning up here."

Before he moves to leave, Akira remembers to tell him, "You have to take me to the school tomorrow to meet with the teachers. Take the car - there's going to be an accident on the train and you won't get back in time to open the cafe."

"You're creepy when you do that, you know?" He sighs and wipes his hands on a rag. "Deal's a deal, then. See you."

"Also, um, do you have a journal to give me? You usually have one to make me keep track of my daily activities for my probation."

"Yeah, yeah," Sojiro waves a hand and turns away. He digs a simple black journal out from underneath the register. Akira tries not to seem too eager when he snatches it from him, clutching it close to his chest. He needs to remember what's going on in this loop, more so than with any of the others. There's too much information in his head, layers and layers of the same situation overlapping into one blur, all turning indistinguishable from the rest. He can't let that happen now.

It doesn't take long for Sojiro to exit Leblanc, but Futaba refuses to leave immediately. Instead, she bites at her lip, and then says, "Inari never responded."

Akira taps his fingers erratically against the spine of his new journal. "No," he whispers. "He didn't."

"Did you-"

"I called him five times while you were still asleep and only got his voicemail."

"Oh."

"Futaba, Yusuke's smart, okay? He'll be fine. I'll text the plan again on the group chat tonight, and if he still doesn't show up tomorrow morning we'll figure it out from there."

Futaba messes with the long sleeve of her sweater thoughtfully. "Okay. I trust you." She fidgets uncertainly, then rushes at Akira. Just because he's expecting her full-body hug this time doesn't mean that he's fully prepared for it, and he stumbles back against the bar as she presses her face against his chest, circling her arms around his back to squeeze him closer. He hates being held, but at least her position and baggy clothing allows him to lightly hug her back without actually touching her skin.

"I was really scared when I w-woke up alone," she confesses, voice muffled against the fabric of his blazer. "I thought you'd all d-died or everything had just been a dream or something and I was all alone again!"

He pats her head, trying for comfort. She relaxes into his hold. "Hey, hey, Futaba. Don't worry about me, okay? I promise that we'll all get through this together."

"But you can't promise that!" she argues. "What if you die again and this is all for nothing?!"

"It won't be," he reassures her. He taps at his temple. "Even if something does go wrong, I'll still remember all of this. I'll know what you all did for me."

Futaba rears her head back to look at him, her eyes shiny. "You'll tell me, won't you?" she demands. "If I d-don't remember, you have to promise to tell me everything! I promise I'll believe you! I know I will!"

Akira gives her a tight smile. "Everything's gonna turn out fine," he tells her, "but if I have to restart, you'll be the first person I talk to, alright?"

Lying gets easier, over time.

She nods, determined, and buries her face against his chest again. He gives her a few more moments and then slowly starts to untangle them. "Boss is gonna start worrying if you keep him waiting for too long."

Futaba finally steps away, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve, and Akira attempts to hide his relief at the physical distance. "Yeah," she agrees, voice thick. "See you tomorrow morning?"

Akira's smile is more genuine, this time. "Yep." When she doesn't move, he adds, "Goodnight, Futaba."

"'Night, Akira," she says with a wave, and finally scampers off.

Akira locks the door behind her with a sigh, relishing in the feeling of being completely alone for once. He turns back to the bar and the empty journal. It doesn't take long for him to locate a pen, and he clicks it absentmindedly as he flips to the first page. He hops up onto a barstool and hooks one foot around the leg as he starts to write in copious detail about the head-spinning events of the last few hours.