Disclaimer:
I do not own the story and the concepts represented in this fiction. This fiction and all Persona-related fictions belong to Atlus, the fantastic company that created the games.
Author's Notes:
Thankfully, it did not take me too long to update this story. My workload has reduced significantly, and I have regular days off again. So, updates should be more frequent, hopefully. There's not much to say about this chapter other than a few remain until stuff hits the fan and crazy comes out!
Comment to Reviews:
Zerag0n Phoenix: Hey, thank you so much for the review. As long as you enjoy the story, that's all I can ask for. Also, that's awesome! I really flattered that you find inspiration from this story!
codywhite162: Hey, thanks for the review. If it isn't apparent, I agree wholeheartedly that Haru is the best!
prince of underbrush: Damn, you describe it perfectly! Miscommunication is definitely very unpleasant.
Scoolio: Ask, and you shall receive - eventually!
Before
8/10
If there are worse things than being surrounded by three hostile snake men, Joker cannot think of one. The dizziness he feels after being whacked by one of them does not help either.
"Joker, are you alright?" Queen asks.
"He needs healing," Morgana says, swiveling his head around for any sudden attack.
Next to Joker, Fox bends slightly at the waist, ready to unsheathe his katana. "I can break their formation, so you can tend to our leader, Queen."
"I'll help, too," Morgana says.
"Ok," Queen nods. "Fox, Morgana, on my signal!"
Time stills as the snake men continue the hypnotic sway of their bodies. Then, the enemy closest to Queen lunges. Using the padded metal of her gloves, Queen parries the strike and retaliates with a powerful jab. Her punch stuns the shadow and gives her an opening.
"Now!"
On command, Fox engages the snake man nearest to him with his katana. Morgana evades a pummeling by the third snake man and uses his scimitar to make cuts on its body.
Joker tries to observe the chaos unfolding around him. Only when Queen grips his shoulder, casting a healing spell, does the dizziness begin to regress, and he can accurately assess their situation.
"Can you still fight?" Queen asks, offering her hand.
Joker nods, accepting Queen's help. "Thanks."
As Fox and Morgana handle their targets, Joker and Queen focus on the remaining shadow. Instead of charging at them, it eyes them cautiously with its staff held defensively in front of it.
"I've got this one," Joker says. "Go help the others."
"You were just knocked down," chides Queen. "Are you sure that's a smart idea?"
Joker sends a wink her way. "Of course."
Before she can protest further, Joker rushes forward. The snake man attempts a broad horizontal swipe of its staff, hoping to catch Joker's midsection. Prepared for such a tactic, Joker slides underneath the attack, climbs on the shadow's back, and grips his signature knife.
With a downward stab, Joker pierces the shadow's head. It drops its staff and trashes madly to free itself from Joker's grasp. The snake man wails in agony.
Joker is undeterred, though. Wrenching his knife free from the shadow's head, he jumps back and reaches for his mask. "Isis," he shouts, "finish it!"
A powerful surge of wind forms underneath the shadow and shoots upwards, engulfing the snake man from sight. When the gale recedes, nothing remains of the enemy except a pool of black ichor.
Joker smirks, then turn toward his friends. Morgana and Queen have made quick work of their foe. Fox, on the other hand, manages to subdue his opponent instead.
"Hey, let's talk about this," the snake man pleads, placing its staff down at Fox's feet. "Look, I know when it's time to give up, alright? What do you want? Money? Treasure?"
"Join us," Joker says as he approaches.
"W-well, I don't think I can do that. I mean, is there anything else you might want?"
The smirk Joker sends the snake man freezes it in place. Upholstering his pistol, Joker aims at the shadow's head. "Last chance," he declares, "before I make you a stain on the floor like the others."
"Oh! Ok, ok!" The shadow proceeds to bow repeatedly. "Sure! Sure! Whatever you want, crazy human."
Just slightly, Joker lowers his weapon. "So, are we in agreement?"
"Yep! Definitely. J-Just a quick logistical question for you. I mean, how is this going to work? Do I just follow you and do your bidding? Or should I be a spy and report any findings? Heh, I'd prefer that, you know. Hey, I could also –"
Instead of replying, Joker places a hand over his mask and focuses. The effect is immediate. The shadow falls silent.
Its eyes glow a haunting yellow, matching Joker's, as it recites, "I am not a shadow that resides in this place. I am Naga. I am from the sea of souls. From now on, I am you."
The newly-formed persona then dissolves in a blinding light that rearranges itself into a mask. With a wave of Joker's hand, the facade glides toward Joker and disappears into his mask.
At Joker's side, Fox sheathes his katana and hums contemplatively. "It always unnerves me how human-like shadows can be."
"Is it before or after they try to skewer us?" Queen playfully remarks.
"Hm, after."
"Hey," Morgana proclaims, "never mind that! Joker, is the addition any good?"
Joker turns around to face Queen and Morgana. "Give me a sec to check."
Closing his eyes, Joker looks within a dwelling only he can access — the sea of his soul. It is a curious place with no actual appearance, simply changing in tandem with whatever persona he possesses.
In preparation for the present palace, Joker went to great lengths – and expense – to put together a high-functioning team. His roster includes Choronzon, Lamia, Setanta, Ara Mitama, Arahabaki, and Naga – the new addition.
Joker opens his eyes. Frowning, he touches his chin as he considers a response to Morgana's question. "He's nothing to scoff at, but he isn't close to being my strongest."
Joker's frown deepens as a funny sensation prickles his mind. "He also seems to get along well with Lamia. Must be a snake-people thing, huh?"
His party members look at him questionably. It is Fox, however, who voices their thoughts. "And how do two snake people interact exactly?"
"Nope!" Morgana loudly interrupts. "We are not going into detail about how Joker's other selves interact. Let's move on. Skull and Panther have been waiting outside, and I don't want to have Lady Ann in that peasant's presence for any longer than necessary."
Joker and Queen share a wince.
So, he's a peasant now, Joker thinks. The name-calling is getting a little extreme with those two.
Stowing those concerns for later, Joker leads the team's continued exploration of Futaba's palace. The underground level is much more oppressive and dimmer than the pyramid's upper floors. The only illumination source is glowing green and orange slates alongside the numerous pillars scattered about. These lights intermix with the sandy-brownness of the area and give whatever shadows appear an ominous glow.
Consistent with the palace's Egyptian theme, the enemies are thin, rotting mummies with white cloth around them. It mystifies Joker how Queen can tremble at the mention of ghosts yet still charge fearlessly in the presence of these horrors.
"We shouldn't be far from an exit now," Queen mummers. She handles her revolver as she and Joker round another corner.
"Probably," replies Joker, eyeing a broad set of stairs that lead upwards.
They proceed while maintaining their formation: Joker and Queen as the vanguards, Morgana in the center, and Fox covering their rear. This second floor is a barren hallway, but sunlight near the back wall pokes past another stone pillar.
"Hey!" Morgana shouts. "I see a gate over there!"
"Finally," Queen sighs.
They reach the metallic gate without incident. Joker restrains the urge to celebrate upon feeling the cognitive sunlight warm his skin.
"I never thought I'd be so happy to feel that oppressive heat again," Joker says, reaching for the lever alongside the wall.
Something clicks, and the gate begins to rise.
"This palace is certainly on both sides of the extreme," Fox points out. "Oppressively hot outside the pyramid structure, while uncomfortably cool inside."
"Maybe it's another reflection of how Futaba sees the world," Queen suggests. "Blazing hot outside of her room but cool inside. What do you think, Morgana?"
But the feline is already rushing, running past them, slipping underneath a slowly rising gate that is still too low for any of them to pass without crouching.
Joker massages his forehead. "The benefits of being a cat, huh?"
"I heard that!"
Outside, the blaring heat stings, a sharp contrast to the bleakness within the dungeon. The returning team collectively shut their eyes against the sun as the remaining two of their party – plus the cat – approaches.
"Dang, what took so long!" Skull complains. "My ass is completely soaked!"
"Can you stop saying that?" Panther complains. "How do you think I feel in this suit? I'm practically melting?"
"Hehe, yeah, I bet you're pretty we—!"
SMACK!
Even without seeing, Joker can vividly imagine Skull reeling from Panther's hit.
"H-hey! What was that for?"
"For being a perv!"
"W-Well—"
"Skull," says Queen, her voice deadly calm. "Stop talking."
Joker can also imagine Skull freezing at the Queen's demand.
"Anyway," Joker says, squinting as he covers his eyes to see, "let's change the formation and make more headway in the palace."
"Does that mean we can go inside now?" Skull voices nervously.
Panther nods eagerly.
"Yes, yes," Joker nods, restraining a smile. "We didn't expect it to take so long to make it back here."
"Nor did we even expect to land in the underground level at all," Queen adds with a sigh.
"Yeah, that too. So, I'll take point with Skull. Morgana and Panther secure the rear while Queen and Fox watch our backs."
Joker takes a moment to look everyone over. "After that, we'll head back and go to a diner or something. On me."
And suddenly, the team's motivation rekindles.
X
It is early in the night, nearing ten when the team disperses from Shibuya's quaint diner. Akira smiles warily, making his way toward the subway. Making progress in the palace today was no easy feat. The conflicting hot and cold temperatures, the powerful enemies, and the palace's labyrinth-like design significantly affected the team's morale.
Given the nearing deadline, the team does not possess the luxury of continually postponing visits to the metaverse. Akira understands this, but it does not make the situation any less unpleasant.
Taking everyone out to eat was a spur-of-the-moment executive decision. While achieving the desired result, Akira can only sigh at the noticeable reduction in funds when reviewing his wallet.
"You sound like an old man," chimes Morgana, poking his head from Akira's bag. "What's wrong?"
Akira shrugs. "It's been a long day."
"Heh, you can say that again," Morgana says. He rises higher out of Akira's bag. "I still can't believe you left Lady Ann with Ryuji, of all people, for long! Not the best idea, leader. Oh, and –"
Morgana continues his list of complaints, which Akira ignores.
When the train arrives, Akira boards and takes the seat nearest the entrance. Including him, there are only a few passengers, so the ride to Yongen-Jaya is still tranquil. It is a welcome change to the nonstop action as of late.
Akira almost feels at ease until beeps from his cell phone send the tension back to his gut.
Please don't be Ryuji, Akira hopes. Or Ann, Makoto, Yusuke…
Goodness, even meeting one of his confidants sounds too stressful. Akira leans his head back.
Maybe I can ignore it until tomorrow, he considers.
Akira closes his eyes and smiles. The thought is tempting enough that he mulls it over for a moment as the tension ebbs out of his body.
Unfortunately, his phone beeps again. And the cat in his bag is annoying.
"Someone's trying to reach you, Akira," Morgana says, the feline's blue eyes piercing the young man's soul. "Aren't you going to answer?"
Mustering all his self-control, Akira resists the urge to groan or fire back a witty remark.
"Yep." He fails – spectacularly.
Akira reaches for his cell phone. The device brightens upon contact and displays his new message. Akira gulps.
[Haru O.] 954 PM: Hello! How are you?
"Who is it?" Morgana questions, peering at the device Akira holds close to his chest.
"One of my many adoring fans," is the witty remark.
Akira grins at Morgana's narrowed eyes.
"Don't worry," the youth affirms. "It isn't anything Phantom-related. Or Ann related."
Morgana huffs. "Huh, well, ok."
Akira nods. Turning his attention back to the device, he ponders a response. No, more than a reply, he contemplates a course of action. Haru is many beautiful things, but as of late, she is the most significant contributor to why he is putting all of his responsibilities on the back burner. He worries he is getting addicted to her presence. There isn't anything about her Akira dislikes. She is one of the few – if only – confidants that do not require him to undergo some sort of ordeal to navigate.
Goodness, were they becoming too physical too quickly? What began as an occasional occurrence is slowly becoming habitual. It starts innocent enough, something neither of them plans for.
A causal text message or meeting is arranged while passing each other in the school halls. It is a natural desire to spend more time together and cultivate their – relationship. Which, if Akira considers it, is still something they both have to discuss. He is confident that their recent activities warrant conversation, agreement, or something sort.
Regardless, the conversations he knows they should have do not happen. The plans to participate in fun events never transpire. Everything always goes crashing down when they find themselves alone.
It is like a switch clicks in both of their minds; the only thing that matters is satisfying the wanton desire boiling underneath their skin. It doesn't help that Haru usually meets him at Leblanc, where Sojiro is more than happy to close early to give them some privacy – the darn-old fox.
As expected, this new norm requires adjusting his daily life. He sets aside money for condoms (for whenever they have a second session, he takes better care of his appearance, and he smiles more – according to his friends.
So, with those thoughts in mind, Akira exhales a shaky, electrified breath and responds.
[Akira K.] 956PM: It's been great. Very productive, though… something missing?
Haru's reply is immediate.
[Haru O.] 956PM: And, what is that?
Akira smirks. He imagines her lying in bed, staring at her phone with the intensity Morgana possesses when hunting whatever poor critter stumbles into Leblanc. What Akira has seen is very intense.
[Akira K.] 957PM: Well, my day is noticeably lacking in mentoring. Any recommendations?
[Haru O.] 957PM: I CAN HELP!
[Haru O.] 958PM: Apologies, I accidentally pressed on the capitalization. If you want? I can come over.
Akira's eyes darken in anticipation. His mentor will one day be his undoing.
"Hey," chimes Morgana, "you got a funny look on your face."
Akira sends his feline companion his best-Joker smirk. "And, what kind of funny look are you referring to?"
"I don't know! Like intense! Too intense! The kind of face you have during combat or something… It's giving me chills."
Akira shrugs. "Hm, good to know."
He waits until arriving at Yongen-Jaya before answering Haru's message. After all, the train ride is likely the only peace he'll have for the rest of the day.
[Akira K.] 1005PM: I'd like that. Come over.
Before
8/11
He steps outside the clinic belonging to his resident death confidant, Tae Takemi, and puts up his umbrella. The torrential rain outside is horrid, matching Akira's mood. Indeed, the gloom in the sky represents the turmoil and anxiety burrowing in his chest.
He tries to push those feeling down and instead turn his thoughts to his time spent with Dr. Takemi. It is made more accessible by the pain shooting up his arm from the injections she gave him for whatever drug she's concocted.
Sure, there is the possibility that her drug is harmful to him. The beautifully stoic woman even mentions the potential of serious repercussions. Though she noted that part with a smile, Akira hoped she was joking.
The doctor receives sadistic pleasure from his uneasiness, after all.
The lower cost of medicine is worth it, Akira tells himself.
Leblanc is barren when he enters. The lack of patrons does not bother its proprietor as he stares at the crossword in his hands and says without looking up, "I'd say not to make a mess of the floors with your wet shoes. I'm making you clean it later, so I don't care."
Akira looks down. Sure enough, a puddle is slowly forming underneath him from his shoes and umbrella. Akira sighs, reaching for the blue towel on the nearest booth and drying his umbrella with it.
Sojiro looks up from his book. He raises a brow. "That's for the tables, kid."
"I'll make sure to dry it later while I clean."
"Damn right, you will. More importantly, are you alright? Looks like someone kicked your dog…or cat?"
Thankfully, Moraga is upstairs, or else he would have had words for that comment.
"It's just been a long day."
"It's five in the evening," Sojiro resorts. "Come on, kid, what's on your mind? Can't have you mopping everywhere. I promised your scatter-brained parents I'd look after you, after all."
Akira frowns, considering Sojiro's offer. After his blunder yesterday, Akira realizes he needs advice. The alternative is that he makes another mistake, and the relationship with his mentor is more awkward.
"Ok," Akira says after a moment of silence. "I need…some advice."
"Advice, huh?" Sojiro closes the crossword puzzle in his hand. "Alright, what's the subject?"
"G-Girls."
Both of Sojiro's brows rise, and a broad smile stretches across his face. "Girls, huh? So, more than one?"
"W-what? No, just one girl," Akira affirms. "In particular."
"Oh, boy." Sojiro rubs his chin. "Now, would this girl happen to be the older student that visits here occasionally?"
Akira remains silent, but the grimace on his face is telling enough.
"Well, luckily for you, I know a thing or two about the opposite sex. Heck, I can even advise you on the tumultuous path of seeing multiple girls simultaneously."
This time, Akira's brows rise, imagining the logistics of navigating numerous relationships. Even with his personas, the possibility of escaping unscathed is low at best.
"No, no," Akira says. "Just need some advice on one girl, please."
"That sounds good! This is one area in life you want to crawl before you run." Sojiro laughs.
Akira nods, though internally, Sojiro's vague comment flies over his head.
"So," the older man begins, "be honest with me, how far have you guys gone?"
Akira makes a choking sound of surprise.
Sojiro laughs. "Here, why don't we sit."
The older male glances outside. Shrugging, Sojiro removes his apron and moves to sit in the booth nearest to Akira. Akira follows Sojiro and sits down opposite him.
For a few seconds, which feels infinitely much longer to Akira, stillness pervades the café. The drizzle of rain lightly pampers the asphalt is a welcoming sound that quells Akira's anxiety about the situation.
"A-About your question," the youth ventures.
"Yes?"
"We've…"
"Held hands," Sojiro offers in a teasing tone.
The older male's jokey tone makes Akira feel a tinge of irritation. "Been intimate."
"Intimate, huh?" Sojiro rubs his chin, a telltale sign of his thinking. "Like kissing and whatnot?"
"We've had sex," Akira declares, only to blush immediately at his boldness.
A broad smirk forms on Sojiro's face as he says, "Oh boy, well, that explains a lot. You've been more relaxed lately, like the world isn't falling apart."
"I don't act like that."
"Oh, yes, you do," Sojiro counters. "Seriously, you come back most days with your face scrunched up so much you look like you're constipated."
Akira opens his mouth, then closes it. He wants to refute Sojiro's claim, but he holds his tongue when he considers Morgana's daily reminders that he is working himself to an early grave.
"A good woman can benefit your life tremendously." Sojiro stands up. "I'm going to make us something to drink. Stay put."
Maneuvering around the counter, the older male begins preparing one of his signature coffees'.
"So," Sojiro says, "you and this older girl are getting along great. Even roughing it up occasionally, right?"
Akira nods, planting a hand over the bottom of his face to hide the rising redness of his face.
"Hey, you are using some sort of contraptions, right?"
Akira nods vigorously. "Yeah, I have protection on hand and set aside money to buy more when necessary."
"Set money aside?" Sojiro repeats, preparing to heat the kettle. "Well, that sounds more than an occasional thing, then."
Akira's face reddens further.
"Regardless, good on you. The last thing we need is for you kids to raise kids. And…your parents would kill me. Your mother specifically."
Akira nods. He could only imagine his mother's stony glare now. For such a quiet woman, her silence spoke volumes.
"Oh, make sure to call them whenever you have the chance," Sojiro says. The kettle begins to hiss, and Sojiro removes it from the stove. "Those two dimwits are starting to irritate me with how much they ask for you."
"Right," acknowledges the youth. After all, it had been some time since Akira last spoke with his parents.
Reaching for two dainty cups, the older male pours them equal amounts of dark liquid. "Pop quiz, what blend is this?"
"Mexican Altura," Akira answers without hesitation.
"Good, good," Sojiro approves, returning to the booth and placing both cups down. "At least you've learned something during your time here. Anyway, it sounds like you and this girl are getting along great. What's with the sour face, then?"
Akira takes a sip of his beverage. Its savory aroma, soft acidity, and nutty flavor bring a smile to his face, which was perhaps the older male's intention.
His smile dims, however, thinking about the tragedy that was yesterday.
"So," Akira begins, "she came to visit yesterday night and –"
"Wait," Sojiro interrupts, "you two are taking your business upstairs, right? I know how exciting it might seem to do the nasty in public places, but you take that exhibitionism shit upstairs. We eat down here."
Akira's mouth hangs open as if incapable of closing. After a few seconds, Akira gulps, willing the embarrassment and shock back to manageable levels.
"W-We've never done anything down here," the youth explains.
"Good," Sojiro says with an authoritative nod. "This is a business, not a hotel."
Akira restrains the urge to hide behind his hands and groans. Already, asking Sojiro for advice is wreaking havoc on his mood more than before. Akira begins to formulate ways to escape the dreadful conversation when Sojiro continues.
"Alright, you two are involved – safety – and see each other regularly. What's the problem? Unless there are other people in the mix?"
Akira shakes his head vigorously. "No, no, there are no other people."
"So, what's the problem?"
Here it is, Akira thinks. He deserves some sort of advice for his troubles. Do or die, and he would not shrink away now after suffering so much embarrassment.
So, mustering his fearless courage, he says, "While together yesterday, I tried something new to make her feel good."
"Something good?" Sojiro repeats.
Akira nods, staring at his coffee cup. He takes a quick sip to collect himself, then presses on while looking away. "Y-Yeah, I…used my mouth on her –"
"Clitoris," Sojiro supplies, smirking.
The warmth from Akira's face rivals that of freshly-brewed coffee. He feels overheated, unable to find the words to continue.
"Well," Sojiro says, "oral sex from your partner is usually well-received unless you do a bad job."
"S-Something wrong?" Akira snaps his head up to meet the older male's eyes. He refuses to acknowledge the tinge of panic filling his chest.
"Oh, yeah. That part of a female is sensitive. As much as it looks like a button you can constantly press, you must coax it a little before going all gung-ho."
Akira feels like he should be taking notes. "Coax it?"
"Yeah, or – if you're in a rush – a little lubricant on your fingers before." Sojiro shakes his head. "Let's not get too off-topic, though. So, you pleasured her…then what? It's tough to mess up since your partner can just direct you on what they like."
Akira narrows his eyes contemplatively. He is thankful for Sojiro's mature explanation on the private matter. Anyone else – Akira imagines – would have made this conversation unbearable. With Sojiro, however, it does not feel embarrassing or wanton. It feels natural, like they're talking about the weather or news.
"I used my tongue," Akira says, "and she seemed to like it?"
"Really? What made you think so?"
"Well, at first, she was embarrassed. It took a little to convince her."
"No pressuring, I hope."
Akira shakes his head. "No, I offered and explained that I wanted to do it. Once she was sure that it was something I wanted to do, she was happy to try."
"Good. Since you two are both learning about what the other enjoys, you have to be considerate of new things."
"So, once I start, she seems to like it. A lot." Akira nods and smiles slightly at having done something right.
Sojiro snickers. "Ok, and what makes you think so."
"She was loud," Akira says. "Really loud."
Sojiro openly laughs at the youth's choice of words. "Ok, for your sake, never repeat those words to anyone but me. Demure and easy-going, she might look; even your mentor will be furious."
Akira makes a gesture of zipping his mouth and throwing the key away. "I was going to ask you to never repeat any of this. And no way. I don't think any of my friends are, um –"
"Mature enough?"
"Yeah," Akira nods, rubbing the back of his neck. He can imagine Ryuji and Ann's unnecessary commentary about learning of his recent ventures.
"To put your mind at ease, this stays between us. And don't worry about telling me about your business too much. Girls talk, and I bet your partner also has someone they turn to for advice."
"Thanks, I'll do that."
"Moving forward, what happens next."
Once again, Akira is thankful that Sojiro is addressing the situation calmly and maturely. He takes in the youth's story with the analytical gaze he usually reserves for one of his crossword puzzles. There are no jokes or snide remarks but instead genuine understanding.
"Well," Akira continues, "I went about it for a while. My jaw started to ache when she suddenly began twitching and then stopped…."
Sojiro makes a sound of amusement. "Most of the time, uncontrollable twitches like you describe are a precursor to a job well done. I don't understand. What makes you think you did something wrong?"
"She kicked me," Akira says plainly.
"What?"
"Yeah," the youth says, pulling on his hair. "After Haru stopped twitching for a bit, she started again for a bit. I moved back because I was worried, and lo and behold, her foot hits the side of my face."
Instead of laughing as Akira expects, Sojiro winces. "I think I understand now. One last question. Were the sheets wet afterward?"
Akira opens and then closes his mouth. What an odd question he wants to point out. Afterward, Haru was so mortified after kicking him that she quickly dressed and exited the café before he could make heads or tails of the situation.
But yes, Akira thinks, considering the sheets he still needs to wash. They were wet.
"Ok," Sojiro sighs, putting his hands together. "I completely understand the situation. Do you want the good news or bad news, kid?"
"Eh?"
"Good news, it is then. You did an outstanding job in terms of making your partner feel good physically."
"I'm sensing a but in their somewhere…."
"Because there is," Sojiro remarks. "Emotionally, well, you could've done a lot better."
Akira's face forms a giant question mark.
Sojiro chuckles. "I'm guessing you are both each other's first partners?"
Akira nods because he and Haru have discussed that, at least.
"Well, what may seem like not a big deal for you – as the male – might be completely mortifying for her as a female. And, from what little I've seen of her, I can tell she had a very formal upbringing. Some things…may be a little too bold for her immediately."
Akira nods, but the information makes as much sense as one of Ms. Usami's math lessons.
Standing up, Sojiro sighs. He takes a quick gulp of his coffee before moving past Akira and taking the umbrella the youth left on the booth behind theirs.
"It's not your fault, but this topic isn't something you can understand without experience. Luckily, I have just the thing to help. Stay put for a bit."
So, at Sojiro's behest, Akira remains in his seat, nursing his coffee. The inner turmoil he felt earlier is a shimmer rather than a raging boil. Akira considers Sojiro's words, trying to find the advice hidden in layers of vague statements. Nothing particularly helpful arises, and the youth wonders if he learned something other than that he didn't do too terrible of a job.
The chime from the entrance signals Sojiro's return. Looking behind him, Akira sees a triumphant smirk on the older male as he waves the umbrella a few times under the overhang to dispel water droplets.
"You're lucky I was able to find what I was looking for," Sojiro says when he settles across from Akira. He pulls out a bulky VHS case from his pocket and lays it on the table.
Akira gulps. The title of the film reads Love Lessons.
"W-Wha?"
Sojrio chuckles. "When I was younger and much less experienced, I would pull a lot of beautiful women. I had no problem meeting and attracting these girls, but I was hopeless about keeping them interested. You could say I lacked proper bedroom etiquette. So, I brought this up to a mentor, a much more successful ladies' man than me, and he gave me this tape."
Sojiro rubs his chin. "Hm, that must have been over twenty years ago."
Seeing Akira's baffled expression, the older male waves his hand dismissively. "Anyway, this tape might help in your situation. You have no problem keeping your lady friend interested during non-sexual interactions. Still, you lack – due to inexperience – in some areas during intimacy."
Akira nods slowly in surprise and embarrassment at Sojiro's accurate explanation of the situation.
Sojiro chuckles. "They don't sell TVs nowadays that accept VHS, but I saw one that looked compatible at the recycling store down the block."
The older male reaches for his wallet and drops a few bills on the table. "Here, take this and go check –"
"Thanks, bye!" Akira accepts the bills and races out of the café before Sojiro can finish.
"—keep whatever change is left over," Sojiro concludes. The older male sighs though the smile on his face expresses his honest thoughts on the matter. "Ah, to be young again."