April 15th, 2016: Friday
To say it had been a long week was an understatement.
Less than a week ago, Akira Kurusu had first arrived in Tokyo after having been falsely accused of assaulting a man in the street back in his hometown of Meguro. Of course, no one seemed to care when he tried to protest his innocence. Not even his own father seemed interested in learning the truth.
Suddenly he found himself thrown into a supernatural world of pure horror, all ruled by some perverted schoolteacher with a penchant for assaulting his students. Not only that, but it seemed nearly everybody in that damn school was ready to write him off as a failure without so much as a second thought.
Through means unknown to him, his record got leaked. The only silver lining about being shipped to the city in the first place was the potential clean slate. But no. Couldn't even have that.
It wasn't all bad, he supposed. He had made some friends so far. Another social pariah named Ryuji Sakamoto and one of the teacher's victims, Ann Takamaki. Plus a talking cat named Morgana who insisted he was not a cat. His protests fell short when one considered he looked exactly like a cat.
That very same not-a-cat was currently taking a ride in the school bag slung over his shoulder as he headed home from his latest jaunt into that strange world, the Metaverse. That's what Morgana called it, at the very least.
The exhaustion he felt was seeping into his bones. Right now, all he wanted to do nothing more than to fall face-first into his bed – really, it was just a mattress on top of a couple boxes – and sleep until the end of time.
As he stepped into LeBlanc, the café he was currently staying at, he was immediately greeted by his current guardian.
"The store's still open," Sojiro Sakura called out. "Go upstairs."
Go fuck yourself.
That's what Akira wanted to say, naturally. He wasn't much up for cursing usually. His mother taught him to be respectful, and so he generally tried to excise that kind of language from his vocabulary, but after several months of trial and imprisonment, he sort of stopped caring about that.
Rather than kicking a hornet's nest and being put out on the street, he grimaced at the old man and began making his way to his room.
To his credit, Sakura so far had never demanded to be treated with the respect that would go with the role of a guardian. Perhaps a flickering of sympathy for his ward? Doubt it. Probably just didn't care.
As he moved, his eyes began wandering. As usual, the café was mostly empty. The dishes were cleaned, Sakura was currently leaning on the counter, taking out a cigarette to light, and the aroma of coffee filled the air.
There was one customer at the moment, however.
A young woman with blue hair dressed in a leather jacket and green dress. She was nursing the last drops of her cup of coffee, swirling it around to keep it from settling at the bottom. There was an inexplicable weight on her shoulders, far too heavy for someone of her age. She looked kind of sad, the more Akira thought about it. He wondered why.
He stopped wondering when her eyes flicked up to meet his. She tilted her head and asked, "Yes?"
Her voice was smooth and deep, pleasing to the ear. That mostly went unnoticed as he tensed up and felt his face flush.
"Hey, lay off the customers," Sakura demanded, leaning forward on the bar.
Akira pushed up on his glasses and stammered out an apology before he practically booked it up the stairs.
"Sorry about that. Hope he didn't bother you too much," he heard Sakura tell the woman.
"I don't mind," the woman said in that same, even tone. "Besides, I was just about to head out. Thank you for the coffee."
"Any time. Come again."
As the chimes sounded above the door, signaling the woman's exit, Akira placed his bag at the top of the stairs and started to walk back down.
"Hey, where are you going?" Moragan whispered, still trying to remain hidden from Sakura.
Akira placed a finger to his lips and made his way back downstairs. Sure enough, Sakura was alone again. "Who was that?" he asked.
His guardian look at him out of the corner of his eye and sighed. "You really can't be causing trouble for my customers like that."
"I didn't even…" Akira stopped himself and shook his head. It wasn't worth it. "Sorry. So who was she?"
"Her? She's the head doctor of that clinic down the street."
"Doctor?" Interesting outfit for a medical practitioner.
Sakura nodded and lit up his cigarette. "From what I hear, she gives pretty crappy examinations, not to mention she sells some weird handmade medicines. I wouldn't know, I've never been."
He blew out a puff of smoke and cast a gaze at the door. "Even so, they should just leave her alone. Not like she's getting in the way of their lives…"
Akira couldn't help but scoff in wry amusement. It wasn't like Sakura was giving him any leeway for so much as existing at the moment.
"Do you know her name?" Akira asked.
"The clinic is named Takemi, so I'd have to assume that's her name." Sakura raised a brow and turned his attention to him. "Why?"
"No reason. Just curious."
"Curiosity is a funny thing," he commented, rubbing at his eyes. "Look, I gotta head home and start making dinner. Go upstairs and get ready for school tomorrow."
"Right." Akira turned and started to move back up the stairs.
As he walked up, he thought back on the woman. A doctor who makes homemade medications? That could come in handy at some point with their work in the Palace. Also just convenient in general that a doctor was right down the street.
That was far from the only thing he was thinking at the moment, however. A name began sounding itself out in his mind.
Takemi, he said in his voice. The corner's of his lip twitched upwards. Nice name.