Chapter 8: "Old Habits...", Part II

(See notes below)

It was a short train ride to Shibuya station, but for Akira, the concerned looks made it feel like a lifetime. The rattling of beakers and jars of unmentionable chemicals didn't help, despite his best efforts to hold them still in his bag.

Surprisingly, Morgana still fitted in with all the stuff gathered. "I take it back," Morgana said. "I prefer the locker."

"Just a little longer," Akira replied under his breath. "I've already told Ryuji to meet us at the station. We get the stuff, we split, start heading home and stop by the clinic on the way. Shouldn't take too long."

"You say that like it's going to be straightforward," Morgana replied. "And with two involved, nothing is ever simple."

Akira smiled. "I suppose so."

The train then arrived at Shibuya. Akira just passed the rush hour, so he didn't have to fight the crowd this time. Walking out, Akira saw Ryuji by the pillar, looking around anxiously. Probably for cops no doubt, Akira mused.

Ryuji then saw Akira and waved a hand. "Yo!" He walked towards him, sounding exasperated while holding a paper bag. He then glared at Akira's bandages. "You still look like shit. Here." He opened the bag to show a red hat. "I had to dash back to my old place to make it back here in time with some cash and this thing here so that you don't go drawing attention."

Akira grabbed the hat. It was a small, red cap, with the words "GET SMOKED" on the front. He reciprocated with a confused look on his face. "….Did it have to be red?"

Ryuji, snubbed, sighed. "This is what happens when you spring a decision on me the last minute. This is my only hat; I haven't worn a hat since middle school!"

Morgana poked out to see Ryuji's gift. He then lost control and yelped incessantly. Akira, in turn, shoved the cat back into his bag with his spare hand and zipped it back up again.

Akira took another look at the hat. "…At least it's better than nothing." As his eyes told him already, the hat barely fit, especially with his frizzy hair. The brim was large enough though not to draw too much attention to the wound. Plus, Akira thought, maybe this hat is a good thing; maybe people will pay attention to the obnoxious lettering instead.

Akira kept his head down as the trio walked out onto the ground floor. "Before we head over there, is there anything else we should know about, Morgana?"

"Not much," Morgana replied, muffled by the bag. "There's one more step to this once we find his Treasure, but basically we shouldn't be letting on that we're going to steal his Heart. If he knows our intent in the real world, we can't steal it again. Ever."

Akira eyes furrowed. "Like he'd ever believe the Other World if we tried."

"His subconscious would, even if he personally doesn't believe it. The human subconscious isn't always necessarily driven by logic."

Akira sighed. "I guess we should be diligent, then. Rather not give Kamoshida any reason to suspect us."

"I believe you. Ryuji on the other hand…"

"Dude, gimme some slack!" Ryuji groaned.

"You say that," Morgana replied. "But you seem like the type of guy that would say 'Hey, guys! Look at me I'm a Thief! WANNA KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO DO?! I'm going to steal shit!'"

"Tch, whatever!" Ryuji said, waving off Akira's talking bag. "It's on one of the side streets off Central."

Despite rush hour ending, Central Street was packed, with signs ranging from "convenience store" to "arcade" glowing in the setting sun. The people meanwhile filled the air with all types of things: poorly sung lyrics over an acoustic guitar; random ravings of a sun god from some cultish-looking hobo; and politicians ranting about the twisted state of Japan and its tumbling economy, to name a few. For Akira, there wasn't a dull sound in the air. He though was focused on not drawing the eyes of the beat by the various stores to see to this stuff closely.

The two then their way into Ryuji's side alleyway. There wasn't much in the alley except a few bikes chained to a rack, a few aluminum trash bins, and the faint, but unfortunate smell of cat piss. Across the racks was their destination: "Untouchable," with green, English neon letters.

The owner seems to have blocked the stores with boxes of junk, Akira mused. Seems like he doesn't like the attention. Reminds me of a certain barista…minus the charm. "You haven't explained to me what this place actually is."

"An airsoft shop," Ryuji replied, smiling a little. "Pretty legit-looking, huh?" Ryuji was about to open to door but paused. "You wouldn't know anything about military stuff, would you?"

"What? No. My dad volunteers for the Coast Guard, but that still doesn't count."

"Well, anything we don't know we can ask the shopkeep. Let's just head in for now."

Akira then looked at his clothes. "Shit, we probably should have changed out of our uniforms before heading here," he lamented.

"Relax! I came in here the other day in my uniform, it's no big deal! Why you fussing about it?" Ryuji replied.

Akira's bag sighed. "I swear, he's hopeless."

Inside the store, the owner displayed variously packaged pellets in a glass display case. Behind him were a whole bunch of gun models hoisted on chain link fences. The fences were the only thing between the shopkeeper and his inventory in the back, that being a bunch of loose, plastic parts and half-opened boxes. The owner himself sat reclined in his seat, reading a gun catalog and laying his legs on the display counter, in front of where he placed his laptop.

Several seconds passed by. The owner didn't budge, only shifting in his seat, his head sinking further into the magazine like an Amazon explorer in quicksand. Akira though could still see traces of a face: a gray scruff, with the tattoo of a gecko trailing down his neck. Speaking of geckos, the earphones hanging on the forehead of his gray conductor's hat made him seem like a yellow-eyed lizard. I wouldn't be surprised if he started to flick his reptilian tongue if we stared a bit longer, Akira thought to himself as he waited.

Another half a minute passes by. The manager budged, but only with a halfhearted, impatient sigh. "Are you ready yet?" he spoke. "Or you going to ask for recommendations?"

The two teenagers paused. Akira decided to break the ice. "What would you recommend, if you don't mind?"

The owner shrugged apathetically. "Just pick one you like."

Akira eyes dimmed. "Great recommendation."

The owner chuckled slightly. "You would have had a better chance for useful advice if you got a hat that fits you right."

Akira grunted and took off his hat. "Just take your hat back, Ryuji. I don't need it," he said, pushing the cap onto Ryuji's chest.

The owner's glare kept steady. "...Fine, you want an automatic? A revolver?"

Ryuji stumbled. "Automatic...are we talking about cars now?"

"Jesus Christ, Ryuji!" Akira said breathlessly. "Just get us a fancy looking gun, one that looks convincing!"

The owner's eyes lit up. "You seem enthusiastic about guns." He then threw his magazine on the counter and leaned forward. "Should have said so sooner." He then turned to Ryuji. "If only your blond friend here wasn't so casual about them."

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Ryuji yelled. "I just bought shit from here last week! How am I the casual?"

The owner turned his head. "...Seriously? Don't remember."

"Bastard..." Ryuji muttered.

"Here's the deal. Kick your friend out and I'll sell you what you need."

"WHAT?!" Ryuji cried. "Why?!"

"My clientele wouldn't like casuals spoiling the place," he said surily. He then turned to Akira. "Well?"

"Sorry, Ryuji. Just give me your cash and I'll buy you something? Sound good?"

Ryuji sighed. "Ok. Just buy me something awesome-looking, 'k?"

"Crystal."

Ryuji waited outside.

"Before I sell these guns, though, you remember the Three Wise Monkeys?"

Akira raised an eyebrow. "See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, correct?"

"That's right. Take it literally. Don't go waving these babies around. And don't let the fuzz know about them. I don't want that type of shit breathing down my neck."

"You seem paranoi-"

The owner leaned forward more. "What. Did I. Just. Say?"

"Oh fine, I won't be a smartass. I'll let my friend know too."

"Smart-ass kid. For now, I'll give you a beginner's selection. Your balls drop more, and I might show you some...'premium' models. Gimme a second." The owner then walked in the back.

"That was close," Morgana commented. "I was almost worried he wasn't going to sell you anything."

"Tell me about it," Akira responded. "So...I'm going to take a limb and say we should get some 'convincing' gear then."

"That's the game. The more convincing, the more the Shadows will bend to it."

"Crystal," Akira replied while nodding.

The shopkeeper came back with a large duffel bag. Laying it on the counter, he zipped it open to reveal a pistol and a pump shotgun. "I pegged you for a Colt .45, if you don't mind."

Akira reached in to grab the pistol and play with its lever. Something about it...the weight maybe...it just...feels right.

The shopkeeper continued. "You look closely, you can tell these are models. Besides, real guns...weigh differently."

Akira's eyes then drifted to the shelf left of him. It held a variety of replica blades.

He turned back to the shopkeeper. "Those blades for sale, by chance?"

"A blade enthusiast too?" the shopkeeper said, smiling. "Sure, if you have the cheddar. They're dulled, so you won't be chopping people's heads off."

Akira then walked towards the kukri on display. People's heads, yes...but Shadows' heads, maybe?

Several minutes passed by. Ryuji anxiously paced in front of the store with his hands in his pocket. Akira then came out, bringing out the entire duffel bag. And then some.

"Sorry, Ryuji, I spent everything," Akira said.

Ryuji motioned towards his duffel bag, but Akira blocked him. "Just zip it slightly open and look inside," he demanded of Ryuji.

Ryuji nodded and looked through the small hole he made, smiling giddily as he did. "That shotgun looks boss!"

"You think you can carry it back with you? I don't want Sojiro to ask where I got the duffel from."

"I got you," Ryuji replied. "My mom comes back late, and she doesn't go in my room. I'll find somewhere there to hide it in."

Akira then handed off the duffel to him. "Just keep your head down in the meantime."

"Will do." The two then took their separate ways as Ryuji walked back to the station.

Akira then sighed as he looked at the time of his phone. It's getting so late. I should make my way to the clinic sooner rather than later. Before he got out of the alley, however, an unfortunately familiar face appeared.

"INMATE!" Caroline yelled in her typical, shrill voice as she stood by a barred door that peered into a neon blue space. "Our master has a serious announcement!"

Akira's shoulders sunk. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you. I'm too busy. Just wait until I go to sleep." He then paused. "Wait, why are you here?"

"We exist between mind and reality. Doesn't mean we can't exist in your mind whenever we-WAIT, STOP WALKING AWAY."

"I'm busy," he said, starting to glide away. "I have wo-" He then had a sharp pain behind his knee that made him stumble onto the ground.

"You're such a pain, inmate, forcing me to use my baton on you!" Caroline cried.

"That's precious, being insulted by..." He checked his shoulder. His bag wasn't on there. His teeth started to clench. "I swear, if the stuff in the bag that I dropped is broken..." He looked around but didn't see it anywhere. "Wait, where did it-"

"As my brash sister said, we can exist in your mind whenever we want," a soft-toned girl said. He looked in front and saw that Justine was now in front of him. "Do you understand now where you are?"

He then saw the people out on Central Street were frozen. "Yeah...I think I get it..."

She then motioned to the door, and Akira turned around to look at it more.

Justine continued. "There is no need to worry. When we are done with you, you will have stood still in the real world for a few seconds."

"Now," Caroline cried. "Get IN ALREADY!"

Caroline appeared behind Akira's back and jump kicked him into the door, falling into an endless blue abyss.

Justine then shook her head. "He was going to acquiesce anyway."

Caroline smirked. "That was more entertaining of an entrance though."

"Might we go then, Caroline? Master is probably waiting."

"With pleasure. The last time we poked in here, his mind was going to some weird places. I am NOT sticking around when that happens."

"I suppose so. They are...odd."

Akira, expecting to be splat on the floor, instead woke up on his back in the Velvet Room.

"Welcome, Trickster," Igor said. "This will be quick. I would like to congratulate you on taking the next step of your journey."

"Next step?" Akira wondered.

"We have seen your Heart, and we are convinced. This is why I will call attention to a special trait. Use it well; you will know when you see it.

Akira's face scrunched, wondering if there was more Igor had to say.

"I will also direct you to another tool to use in your conjunction with your special trait. Use it well, when the time comes." He then directed his hand to a black guillotine, its blade gleaming from the very top.

"Wait...why the guillto-"

"Until next time," Igor interrupted.

Akira then opened his eyes and found himself in the alley. He reflexively put his hand on his shoulder. His bag was still there. He opened inside.

Morgana was there, looking at him. "Are we going or not? You've been standing here not responding to me."

"I...sorry, let's just get going. The Clinic awaits."

For Makoto, taking the detour to Yongen through the tight alleyways was rather calming. She felt as if she entered another world, one removed from the ferried rivers of people and oppressive towers hovering behind her back. And today, she had no tolerance for that.

She was on task though. She "had to return something" to Akira after all. And barrage him with questions once he came around.

She found herself at the address listed on Akira's record. "A...coffee shop? This...can't be right." She walked around to see if there was a side alley she missed, but she saw none. She walked back in front of LeBlanc. "Occam's Razor, then." She reached out for the door. Inside was an empty coffee shop, dark-smelling arabica coating Makoto's nostrils. A buttery smell then crept in. Meat curry perhaps? she wondered. Her stomach grumbled. I...shouldn't. Besides, I can't control the nutrients anyway...

The sound of an irate, old man came from the kitchen behind the bar counter to her right. "Goddamnit kid, answer your phone when I-" he then saw Makoto. Embarrassingly, he switched tones. "Oh, forgive me. I just have someone who works here that is just troublesome." He then smiled. "Please come in and take a seat."

Makoto smiled bashfully as she sat on a barstool. "No worries; is that 'someone' by the name of Akira Kurusu by chance?"

"You waiting for him?" he replied, with a satisfied smile on his face. "Well I got to hand it to him, he knows how to grab the elegant ones quick. Hoo-boy..."

"...I'm lost," she replied, her face blank and tilted to the side. "I'm just returning his phone, that's all. You probably already know this, but he took a spill. He's ok, but he seemed to drop his phone in the process."

Sojiro raised his eyebrow. "Oh." Her words then started to settle in, and he began to press his hand into his forehead. "Sounds like he's more of a bonehead than he let on. Why didn't get his phone from you then?"

Just keep going. "He was busy resting, on nurse's orders. I was hoping to drop it off based on his public address, but it led me to here. Would you know where he lives?"

"Upstairs," he replied, pointing upwards.

Makoto put a hand to her mouth. "He...actually lives here?" She looked at the wooden ceiling above her. She could see the dust seeping from above. I couldn't imagine studying up there...I almost feel kind of bad. I really should show Akira the library if he hasn't seen it already.

"He isn't here yet," Sojiro continued. "I've been trying to call him, but now I know why he hasn't been answering."

Makoto sighed, eyes closed. "I was hoping to meet him here, but...he walked off. The nurse mentioned before I left Shujin that he was going to stop by a clinic." She then placed a hand on her chest, her face slightly anguished. "I hope he's ok, after today."

Sojiro placed his hand behind his neck. "Hey, don't worry about it. You said it yourself, he took a spill. He seems to be ok if he's going to walk off like that. I'm just sorry you have to pay for him being so inconsiderate." He paused, taking a closer look at her. "You mind telling me who you are, by chance?"

"Oh sorry," she replied. "Forgive me. The name is Makoto Nijima. I'm, well, the Student Council President at Shujin Academy."

"The Student Council President?" he said, his mouth staying open slightly. "Wait, are you sure he isn't up to anything? Why out here? You're probably some overachiever who would rather study instead."

She smiled sadly. "...No one would volunteer." Not exactly...but sadly, I wouldn't be surprised if this were the outcome if it were seriously proposed.

Sojiro sighed. "Such a shame. I would hope he could associate with someone decent by now." He then smiled out of the blue. "Perhaps you could change that. I could imagine him mellowing out if he spent more time with you."

"From my interactions with him, he seems like quite the hassle. Besides, my Presidential duties tend to eat up my time anyway."

"Yeah well, I suppose you don't have time for dating anyway."

"...Dating?" she said. "I...wait, what?" She started to feel hotter for some reason. "I have no idea why that's being brought up now!"

Sojiro chuckled. "Sorry, I'm being a bit mean." He then went back behind the bar counter to mess with a batch of fresh curry being prepared. "I probably assumed you were just a normal teenager. But I guess being the Student Council President should have tipped me off." He paused. "You know, there's no need to wait here. You can drop off the phone and be on your way. Else your parents might start to worry."

"...They're not here anymore. Sorry. It's just my sister, and she's busy tonight. It's no rush."

"Oh...I-I'm sorry," he said, caught off guard. Sojiro turned to see Makoto, leaning on her left hand, staring out at the door, a trace of haggardness appearing around her eyes. "It's ok. It's been a while. I'm...just more tired right now. It's been a long day. I...he wanted to study with me today. I felt like obliging him. It would be a change of pace from studying at home."

"Study with you?" he said incredulously. "There's still hope then...though is your sister ok with this?"

She smiled weakly. "She's fine with it." She tried to keep from thinking about the lashing she would receive if she stayed out too late, but being so tired put her mental guard down. So this is what being overcome with exhaustion feels like, she thought. I feel even sorrier for Sis already.

A minute of silence occurred between the two. Then came the clink of a china saucer. Makoto, zoned out, was caught by surprise. "Coffee?" she observed. It was a dark roast, in an immaculately white coffee cup.

"You can sip it while you're waiting for him. Free of charge."

"I...but they say that caffeine if you drink it too late can interfere with sleep."

She looked at the dark, chocolate colored foam on its surface. She then looked at the time once more.

"I suppose I could lift my spirits." She conceded, pulled out a book on criminal psychology and took a small sip.

Akira had finally walked his way to Yongen. He would have headed directly to Takemi Medical Clinic, if it were not for a quick stop to one of the secondhand stores around LeBlanc to get some spare sheet metal. "I can only wonder what the sheet metal and palm oil is for," Akira said skeptically.

"I'll show you tonight," his bag uttered. "Just focus on getting this out of the way."

Akira approached a blue hole-in-the-wall with "T.M.C." plastered in thin, red letters. "I can't lie, this is rather convenient for me. Why out here this far?" He shrugged and entered inside.

The waiting room in this clinic only fit four people and two lazily placed ferns. Akira was the only one in. Behind the Plexiglas-protected counter was a lady in a white lab-coat with a messy, black bob cut, sitting at a desktop with a bored expression.

She raised her hand, revealing short cut nails painted with a blood-red coat. "Please take a number and then wait in line until you are called."

He looked around, wondering if she was talking to a ghost. "Uhh, miss? I don't think there's anyone waiting."

She slowly turned away from the screen, continuing to look unfazed. She stared for a bit at the empty space. "I suppose so," she acceded, tired-sounding as before. "Please proceed into the examination room," she continued, pointing towards the door to his immediate right.

Akira, wanting to make this as fast as possible, went through the door she directed him to.

The doctor lingered at the computer, looking over the records the school nurse sent. "Ahh...I see. You're 'marked.' Fine, I'll make this quick. The experimental medicine should wrap things up quickly."

Several minutes passed with Akira sitting on an examination bed. Then, she walked in with a small vial with a gel-like substance and sat down in a chair across from his, showing off her long, pale legs, her black, lace boots, and the black choker around his neck.

"Examination history first. Do you smoke?" she said.

"No."

She checked off with a pen an item on her examination sheet. "Excellent. Are you above the age of 16?"

"Sure, why-"

Check. "Moving on. The notes said head injury. Did you suffer from slurred speech or a lack of motor function, even momentarily, at the time of injury.?"

"I blacked out a bit. I woke up after a while, and then walk-"

"Wonderful." Check. "Memory still is good."

Akira rared up. "Hold on miss, I don't think a potential concussion is wonder-"

"Quiet," she barked. "Take off your bandages."

Lost as ever, he slowly took off his bandages. The doctor meanwhile flashed a small flashlight in his eyes, waving it around his orbits. "Contractions are symmetric. Good enough for me. No concussion. If anything, maybe stress-related."

His heart was beating furiously at this point. "Stress-related? Hold on a minute! You can't just determine that just out of the-"

"Signs of agitation, increased gasping between sentences. I'll agree: bit of a stretch, but it's more common than people think. And I don't feel like drawing blood today." She then stood to approach his head. "Just to be safe, this gel will assist in healing." She then applied a patch of gel-covered gauze around his still weeping wound. "I'll give your four vials of this. Apply to your head when changing your bandages and don't forget to triple wrap."

Akira could feel "something" working at the very least; his wound felt tingly and hot, while the aches and pains from his voyages into Kamoshida's castle were starting to go away. This is...wow, this is really loosening me up... "This...what is this?"

"Something experimental. Don't worry, its not an opiate. You're not going to get hooked on this. Now, please direct yourself to the reception area to handle payment." She then pointed out back where Akira came.

"Um...ok?" Akira replied. He walked out with his goodie bag and into the reception area.

The doctor sighed. "Why are all the 'marked ones' so annoying to deal with? Mizuhi over at that damn school should start sending less nosy patients. I hope the data's worth it."

Feeling limber once again, he jauntily walked down the side street to Yongen. Approaching LeBlanc, however, made Akira self-conscious again. Shit...Sojiro's going to have a fit. I didn't think about that. He sighed in defeat. Not much I can do to explain this.

With a deep swallow, he opened the door to LeBlanc, ready to explain away. "Sojiro, don't get mad at me, I can expla-"

His eyes widened, seeing Makoto seated comfortably by the bar, sipping away at coffee. She welcomed him with a small smile. "I see you're ok enough to walk here," she said. "Whoever your physician was seemed to dress your wound ok."

Sojiro, stern-faced, walked up directly to Akira to take a closer look. "Eh, I thought it would look worse."

His still demeanor was an even bigger surprise. And here I thought he would tear me up, Akira observed. I almost thought those missed calls were from him for a minute. Seems like though he's more stoic than I imagined. "I had a good doctor."

Sojiro started to smile. "Well, you shouldn't keep your lady friend behind you waiting. Here." He put a key in his hand. "Lock it up when you guys are done. Take your time."

"Why you leaving all of a sudden?" Akira said. "It isn't even 9 PM."

Sojiro was already facing the door, about to leave, his white fedora planted on his head. "Something came up. Don't break anything. And read the note I left by the curry pot." He then opened the door and turned the wooden sign on the door to "CLOSED" streetwise.

"What the...whatever." He then turned to Makoto. "Just give me a second to put my stuff away." He then calmly walked up to the attic and then hid his equipment behind the blue tarp.

He let Morgana out. "Your favorite person is here. Doesn't that make you excited?" Akira said to him.

"Don't make me claw your eyes out, you glorified gimp," Morgana replied cattily. "I swear, if she finds out-"

"She won't," Akira interrupted. "I got this," he said, changing into some casual clothes. "I'll talk to her and she'll be gone."

He then walked down the stairs. Each creaky step though made his heart race. Ok, maybe this is going to be harder than this looks.

Wait, what am I talking about, this should be simple.

Then why am I getting nervous?

Get it together! You're better than this!

He took another deep breath before returning to the cafe floor. He came down to find Makoto laying on an open palm, reading.

Akira wasn't sure why, but he felt like looking at her for a bit, in all of her demure glory. Then, the thought came to him. Damn...it just came to me how long of a day it's been for us. I'm surprised she's been holding it together. That coffee she's sipping might be the best thing she's had today.

Akira's face sunk slightly. And then...me being brash probably gave her a heart attack. He then remembered Sojiro left a personal note in the back of the kitchen. "Just hold on; I just need to look at what he left in the back, too."

Walking in the back, he was almost distracted by the strong, meaty smells that settled in. In spite of this, he found a hastily written note next to the slow cooker.

He read it to himself:

Kid,

If that lady friend of yours is still here, and you arrive soon enough so that she doesn't end up leaving or realizing I gave her substandard coffee to give you an opportunity, then you can continue on. Otherwise, you're just an idiot and you should bow your head in shame.

Sojiro, you're so dramatic, Akira said quietly. He continued:

Now, hoo-boy! You have a fairly attractive young lady in here that looks like she has had a bad day. I've lived long enough and have had enough teen couples trickling in here to know how these 'study dates' work. This is your chance, but, her being tired and all, you're not going to win her over and assert your manhood-

OH COME ON, YOU LECHEROUS OLD MAN! Find another pair of teenagers to create your high-school scandal fantasy with.

I-I mean, she IS a fairly attractive young lady. That's smart. And hard-working. But...

"I'm too tired for this shit," he muttered.

He continued reading silently. He scanned past all of the ramblings about his escapades as a teenager and got to the last part.

Now, if you want to perk her up, give her some coffee according to this recipe. Follow it to the THE DOT. Maybe feed her, I dunno. Apply some charm. You'll figure it out.

Sojiro

P.S. Don't lose my spare key, punk. And don't forget to lock the door.

"Thanks Sojiro," Akira replied sarcastically under his breath. Still...she could use some lightening up, maybe. Ehh, it couldn't hurt. He walked over to Makoto via the kitchen side of the counter.

"So umm...you want a refill on that?" Akira said to her.

She laid down her book, her eyes looking tired. "I...isn't all of this coffee so..."

"Good?" Akira interjected.

Makoto became embarrassed. "Well, yes, but I might not be able to sleep..." Plus I'll get dehydrated and my solutes will...screw it. "Ok..." she acceded, smiling weakly. "I'll let you make something, then I'll speak. It'll get me more time to read anyway."

5 minutes passed. Despite initial fears of breaking the delicate-looking filters required and adding the wrong volume of water, Akira felt he did ok. He trialed his concoction with a spoon. Mhm...not bad. Though I'm curious what Sojiro thinks is substandard. He then poured it into the new cup. Before he presented, he also forgot to consider whether to pair the coffee with curry. Ehh, why not.

And so Akira came out of the back, coffee and curry in hand.

Makoto broke her concentration to look. "Curry?"

Akira smiled. "Trust me, they go well together."

Makoto smiled. This is rather excessive; seems like such an unbalanced meal...and yet...it's kinda sweet. "Maybe in a bit," she responded.

The two then had an awkward pause and looked away, each having something they wanted to say.

Akira went first. "I'm sorry for today. I went overboard on the roof and all. Your blood pressure probably has seen better days."

Makoto smiled dolefully, looking away. "You know, it's funny. I tried to warn you off, fearing you were going to be brash. I didn't expect you to almost kill yourself trying to save someone. You should have seen it, when you were at the infirmary, resting. You looked pretty bad."

"Sorry," Akira replied uncomfortably.

"And yet...sorry, this is so terrible to say...now that I think about it in that way, all of that made me kind of happy."

"Happy?" he said, smiling confusedly.

"W-well, I'm not happy you got injured," she said reflexively, holding her hand. "I-it's just...hear me out."

Akira looked at her hand. There were red welts on her knuckles. "What happened to your hand?"

Makoto blushed. "Oh! I, uh, had an accident. Th-that's all! Raised my hand up quick!"

Akira's remembered Tae's medicine. "Just hold that thought. I'll be back."

Half a minute later, Akira came back with a spare vial. "Hold still." He knelt down and grabbed Makoto's hand.

Makoto's face turned fully red.

"Huh?" Akira said, applying the healing gel to his fingers. "Why you look so embarrassed?"

"I...you just do things so randomly."

"I'm just putting something to make it heal, that's all. My physician gave this to me. It won't be too much." He gently rubbed her knuckles with it.

Makoto felt the warmness happen immediately. "Wow, this feels amazing! My arm feels so energized. I wouldn't mind having some of this after my aikido lessons."

"Hmm. So that would explain why you were so good at restraining me the other day," Akira teased.

"Please don't rub that in."

Akira let go of her hand and wiped the rest using a rag towel. He then grabbed a plate of curry for himself and sat next to Makoto. "You were saying?"

"Right...I guess what I mean to say...is being a Student Council President has been lately like crafting your own noose."

Akira raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

She paused. "Today, after what happened to Shiho...I couldn't help but feel like I was set to fail in one way or the other. For the longest time, I've had to let proof trickle in, bit by bit, student by student, under that...fat ASSHOLE's nose...and I've wasted all this time, and sacrificed those that needed me the most. You know, Kobayakawa and Kamoshida are trying to get you expelled, EXPELLED, come the next school board meeting, for trying to save to Shiho." She choked for a second. "Shiho..."

She then pulled out a blue phone, taking Akira by surprise; it was the phone he pulled off of Shiho, and she somehow got to it. Wait...this make sense now; someone had to leave my bag by the bedside. But still...she didn't have to be nosy. His heart then sunk. Still...I wasn't the most delicate when I decided to take a phone off a barely alive girl.

"I saw...what was on here. I..." she took another breath. "I'm sorry. I had to. I saw it in your pocket and...I just found it aberrant you would have another phone, so I took it and...I'm sorry. After Shiho...I was so upset. About a lot of things. Desperate even. For anything. And then I saw it was unlocked, which is not something most people do.."

Akira sat next to her, eyes closed, and listened. "Go on. Take your time."

She took a minute to compose a coherent thought. "I've only read of this in my spare time...but I would never imagine seeing this type of suicidal behavior up close. I could only postulate...but perhaps, she was inviting someone in, whether it be some random student, or investigator, to look further. Like...a cry for desperation."

Akira sighed heavily. "This is weighing down on you, isn't it?"

Makoto continued, her head staring at the ground. "There was something...off about it. The number listed and Kamoshida's known personal number are not the same. It's possible he has a separate phone...but...in the photo, Shiho is..." She cleared her throat. "...She's...in front of a desk with an inactive monitor. The room is dimly lit, so the persona taking the photo would need to use a flash. It's hard to see..but the shadow cast on the floor would indicate...it's a different person. Smaller. Maybe...even a student." She paused again. "You...can have it back. I've already taken a picture of...her. Just for reference." She buried her face in her hands. "God, look at me, I must look like the most unhinged person."

There was a brief pause. After that, Makoto decided to peak out from her hands to see why Akira wasn't saying anything. It turned out Akira was waiting for her to show herself, holding a spoonful of curry.

"You know, you can binge if you want. It's fine," Akira said, motioning her to take a bite.

"But, I shouldn't..."

Akira taunted with the spoon. "It'll make you feel less shitty."

"Language!" she cried out loud. "Oh fine!" She forcefully grabbed Akira's spoon and shoved the curry in her mouth. "My diet is ruin-"

The flavors started to kick in.

"Oh my...this is amazing!" she started to eat it furiously. "So...MEATY...such varieti uf dep and flaver" she said, her mouth stuffed with curry and rice.

He smiled quizzically. "Uhh...oxygen might be more important though."

Makoto became flush and swallowed her bites. "I-I'm sorry...Maybe I'll just go back to coffee now." She quickly took a sip. "Wow, the acidity of this coffee REALLY does complement the deep, rich taste of the meat."

"What can I say, coffee and curry here go pretty well," Akira said while smiling.

Makoto returned with a modest grin. "I'm just surprised you're able to make such good coffee. To be honest, you probably make coffee as good as the owner."

Akira smiled nervously. "Yeah...I guess so." Goddamnit, Sojiro, this is working so good it's kind of scary.

Her sincere expression then became a guilty stare to the side. "You really are too nice to me." She held a tongue for a brief minute. "You really shouldn't pity puppets. I was there when Kobayakawa and Kamoshida were trying to crucify you for trying to save Shiho, but I couldn't really speak up for you. And now, knowing how the school board is, that plan of theirs might succeed given your record."

"When is it?"

"A week and a half from now. Three will preside, along with the Principal and select faculty."

This is really bad..."A bona fide Inquisition," Akira said out loud. He then stood up and put his hands in his pocket. "Looks like...we're going to have to expose them fast then. Count me in."

Makoto couldn't believe it. "You do realize that a case might not be there before the meeting?"

He shrugged. "I should still try either way. Plus, if your guess is right...this whole Shiho thing might be more complicated than what was previously thought."

Makoto sighed, closed her eyes, and swallowed another spoonful of curry and rice. "I suppose I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth." Despite her discouragement, she smiled slightly. "I suppose it'll be nice to depend on someone for a change. I'll send you what I have later tonight. I may have learned how to operate my smartphone until recently, but I can operate the Camera App on there pretty well. I have a year's worth of personal information I've collected on potential Kamoshida victims and such. Maybe you can give a fresh perspective. Maybe even find things I've missed."

Akira was taken aback. Never imagined she would go digital Gestapo on members of the Student Body...it's almost kind of...impressive. I should do some soul-searching later. "Fine then. A caper of a task we have then."

She looked at her phone and looked slightly disappointed. "I really should get going. Even though Sis is coming late and the curry being so good, I really should get back and get ready for school tomorrow."

Akira smiled and nodded; he noticed that the sun had more or less set. "Don't worry. Well, finish quickly then."

A few minutes later, she stood, having completed her food. She then grabbed her bag. "Well, thanks for the food. I think...I needed this." She then playfully bowed, smiling politely. "If you'll excuse me."

She took a step towards the door when she stopped suddenly.

"Did you forget something?"

She then turned around. "Humor me before I go. I know I've kind of asked this already, but...are you...afraid of what fate will throw at you, at all?"

"Why are you asking this?" Akira wondered.

She turned downcast, nibbling on your lower lip. "I'm truly scared for you; before coming, I wondered whether your story was already written and there was nothing you or I could have done to change it. But...you seem so calm. Why do you...keep going, even now?"

Akira's face became still. "Well...I suppose..." He paused. "I suppose I was. But then, I reckoned at the end of each dark tunnel, there's a light at the end of it. May not be true...but I got to try. At least...that's what I feel. Even if I say otherwise."

The furls on Makoto's forehead flattened. She stared at Akira, her eyes relaxed and approving. "Thank you. For being honest with me. On the rooftop, and now, here."

Akira stared back, eyes locked and lost in her earnest, rubyish eyes. Should I? he wondered.

The long day had made Akira exhausted enough to give in to the smallest of impulses.

He walked slowly to Makoto, and embraced her. "Hey...thank you. For believing in me. The 'real' me."

A warm tingling radiated down her spine and out through her body. "H-hey, w-w-hat did I tell you about being so f-f-forward?!"

Akira smiled coyly. "This is payback for invading my personal space while I was unconscious."

"Y-y-you're so mean!" she replied, flashing red.

Her embarrassment seemed to betray her, as they held on for a while, the churning in each of their bellies settled down after a bit. For fatigued Akira, it was the wind in his sails. For Makoto, the dark roast stuck in Akira's frizz drew her like a moth to a flame.

"Just...be careful next time," she said quietly next to his ear. Makoto, heavy as her hands started to feel, let go and walked dazed out of LeBlanc and into an indigo sunset.

"You finished now?" Morgana said while yawning.

Akira, still smiling, nodded towards his companion.

"God, you look so starstruck right now, it's disgusting," he said, grimacing.

"Hush," Akira replied quietly, walking without qualms up to the attic.

Morgana then jumped over to the uncleared desk next to his bed. "Was that stuff with that girl necessary? It seems like everything you're doing with her is just a distraction."

Akira then shoved the junk on the desk onto the floor. "Are you going to show me your special crafting skills already? I'm curious to see how I can improve on my old recipes."

Morgana then leaped onto the now cleared desk. "You didn't answer my question."

Akira yawned. "Yes."

Morgana scowled. "You said that to spite me."

He reached under the blue tarp behind him for his duffel bag. "It was necessary for me."

Morgana, belly laid on the table, cocked his head. "Pray tell what you mean."

He exhaled through his nose as he gave Morgana a wan grin. He then unzipped the bag and pulled out a vial labeled "red phosphorous" and a measuring flask. "I guess with Prez downstairs...it was me wishing for the good guys to be rewarded for their pain." He chuckled. "I haven't thought like that since I was a kid. Hell, maybe I AM still that kid." He then pulled out some matches and lit one. "I guess it's like what they say: Old habits die hard."

He darted his eyes though.

For as much as he felt a certain giddiness one gets with a sense of being embraced for who you are...

It reminded him of a feeling. The converse.

One of loneliness. Of alienation.

The kind that is gained from being locked in too many times, whether as a young one in his room or as an inmate in a pale, white cell.

The kind that reminded him of his desperation to feel like the world could bend to him.

To let him in.

Notes: Apologies for the delay. I had internet troubles, so I wasn't able to upload this on time. I'll most likely dedicate Saturday to correct for any errors in the chapter and maybe make small structure tweaks here and there.

If you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to comment! I haven't had a chapter dedicated to the ship in a while, so writing some of the parts here were quite the treat.

As for the next chapter: 2-3 weeks seems to be the target. Visit my profile for updates!