aegis

by chidorinnn

Summary:

or: three instances in which morgana looks out for his friends, amidst shared drinks

Notes:

hello! this is a collection of stories that i had originally written for the (now canceled) jazz jin secret menu zine. i was assigned two characters for this project, one of which was morgana. i wrote three short pieces from his perspective, detailing a slice of his life in the context of three drinks he shares with akira and friends.

i would rather not rehash the circumstances of this zine's cancellation in this author's note, but please know that the contributors to this project have worked very hard these past months. if you come across other contributors' works on this site, or on your various social media feeds, then i urge you to like, leave kudos, comment, and share.

thank you!

Chapter 1: fruity sunset

Summary:

Akira's drink is just sitting there, untouched. It's not like he's overly full and sick like Ryuji had been earlier, but he's still too pale; his eyes are distant, in a way that's concerning enough in the real world, and outright dangerous in the Metaverse. He wasn't like this when we first got to the buffet — actually, if I had to guess, whatever this is hadn't set in until sometime after we went with Ryuji to the bathroom.

Actually, come to think of it... Akira hasn't been okay since we ran into that jerk by the elevator. I don't remember what it is that guy said to him, but I don't think it was anything out of the ordinary. At the very least, it was no worse than anything Kamoshida or his Shadow had said.

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Artwork for this piece by YuaXIII

Akira's glass is almost too pretty to drink. It's got bright, vibrant colors swirling together, and up close it smells fruity and sweet. I've seen drinks like this before — somewhere in Kichijoji, if I'm remembering correctly.

But the drink's just sitting there, untouched, as is everything else on Akira's plate. It's not like he's overly full and sick like Ryuji had been earlier, but he's still too pale; his eyes are distant, in a way that's concerning enough in the real world, and outright dangerous in the Metaverse. He wasn't like this when we first got to the buffet — actually, if I had to guess, whatever this is hadn't set in until sometime after we went with Ryuji to the bathroom.

Actually, come to think of it... Akira hasn't been okay since we ran into that jerk by the elevator. I don't remember what it is that guy said to him, but I don't think it was anything out of the ordinary. At the very least, it was no worse than anything Kamoshida or his Shadow had said.

I've... never seen Akira like this before. Even at his most exhausted, he's never seemed this off .

If something like this had happened in the middle of battle, I'd have smacked him back to his senses. If not me, then Lady Ann or Ryuji... but there's no battle here, is there?

He doesn't like it when I sleep on top of him at night, but he doesn't mind it when I sit on his lap, usually. As long as I don't dig my claws in him, it should be fine. "Oi, Akira," I call out to him, kneading my feet into his thighs. "Pass me that drink, will you?"

Akira's slow to rouse, and spends way too long just blinking at me — but then, he pulls the drink closer on the table. A cursory glance around the room confirms that no one is watching — no one will protest at the sight of what appears to be a cat, drinking something that is clearly not meant for cats.

The drink, as expected, is every bit as delicious as it looks — but what's unexpected is the way Akira wraps his arms around me then, slumping forward until his face is pressed against my fur. There's no way I'll actually tell him this, but... it's nice, being held like this.

I'm not sure how much I can actually help him like this — not when I'm stuck in this cat's body. I hope that one day, though, he'll be able to depend on me... talk to me about these things, and know that he has someone on his side.