Chapter Text
It was a usual day in Mementos. Well, it was a usual day...right up until the point that it all very much wasn't.
But Akira was getting a little ahead of himself.
——
Akira brushed his gloves together, the red of them looking like twin drops of blood in the mute lighting of Mementos. He fiddled with the edge of one of them as he turned to Futaba. "How far until our next target, Oracle?"
"Um, I could've sworn he was on this floor... But for some reason I'm having trouble finding his reading." Futaba's fingers flew over her console, screens popping up and flashing information too quickly for anyone but her to decipher. "We should find him if we wander around, but I'll keep scanning. It's weird that I can't find him."
Akira hummed in acknowledgement. "It's pretty odd, considering your scanning abilities, but maybe there's something about the public's cognition today that's blocking it."
Futaba's lips twisted down. "I don't think that's it. I was able to find our other two, no problem. It's just this guy who's giving me trouble. But I've felt some strange readings this whole floor."
"Strange readings?" Makoto echoed as the Phantom Thieves all piled back into the Monabus. Akira settled behind the wheel, putting the vehicle in drive as they continued the conversation around him.
"Yeah. It's super weird. I've been getting anomalous readings this whole floor, yet nothing seems out of place. The only strange thing is not being able to find this target." Abruptly, she growled and rubbed at her temples. "Ugh! This is so frustrating! How is this random Shadow messing with my readings like this?"
Akira prepared to smoothly steer them around an approaching corner. "Well, Oracle, it's not your fault. Sometimes the Metaverse does strange—"
"Joker!!!"
Futaba's shriek nearly made him tug the steering wheel, and he swore he felt the vehicle jump in his hands from the Thieves' collective startle. "What is—" A split-second later, he finished the turn and nearly ran face-first into...
"It's the Reaper! It's on top of us!" Futaba shrieked, panicked, screens whizzing by wildly. "Run! Joker!" For a second that seemed to hang, Akira's brain seemed to be stuck in a stand-still, the Reaper's grim form closing the distance between them much too quickly. There was already barely any distance between them to start.
"Joker!! Gun it!!"
Futaba's shrill order finally managed to kick his brain into gear. Akira immediately felt cold sweat run down his back as he realized how close the Reaper already was. Wordlessly, he slammed on the brakes, skidding into a sloppy U-turn that had everyone yelling and clinging on for dear life. The second they were facing away from it, he slammed on the gas, narrowly managing to dodge a bullet it'd shot right where they'd been a moment before.
"It's hot on our trail! Don't stop!"
"Yeah, wasn't planning on it," Akira grumbled through gritted teeth, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple as he yanked the wheel to careen down another hallway. "Oracle, we need the exit to the floor, now!"
"I know! But I can't find it! That anomalous reading is mixing me up!" She sounded harried, and anxious, and maybe a little guilty. Akira knew he'd probably feel bad about pushing her like this later, but right now there was a massive Reaper on their tail with twin shotguns. So. Yeah. "Just keep running!"
Akira grumbled a little more under his breath, but took the next turn anyway.
"Ah!" Suddenly she was leaning over the backseat, bracing her arms over the seats to lean in close to Akira. She pointed to their right urgently. "There! Go there! If we go through, we'll be safe from the Reaper!" When he followed her direction, he saw what looked like the portal to their final target.
Akira glanced in his mirrors, only to see the Reaper's hulking form still seemingly gaining on them. Cursing, he twisted the wheel and they barreled into the portal, several of the Thieves yelling out in fear as they launched through.
And then suddenly, they weren't in the Monabus anymore, something that finally had Akira screaming along with everyone else. He'd felt so much safer when he was flying through the air while inside the bus, thanks very much.
Suddenly, he hit the ground. And it was sudden simply because he hadn't expected it at all. In fact, the place he'd landed wasn't anything like he'd expected. It was dark, pitch-black even; so black that if it was a room, the walls and floor and ceiling weren't visible, not by a long shot. It felt like he'd landed in a patch of pure darkness.
He heard various shuffles and groans as the rest of the Thieves picked themselves up off the ground, grunting in pain all the while.
Without bothering to lift his head from the floor—he needed a few moments to recuperate and rest his beating heart—he checked in with the rest of the Thieves. "Everyone alright?"
Silence met him. Akira frowned. That was kind of odd. He was just about to ask again when—
"What the hell..."
At Ryuji's whispered words, he peeled his face off the floor and looked up, bewildered. And what he saw somehow managed to make even less sense. In fact, the whole Reaper business was entirely forgotten in the span of one second, and judging by the other Thieves' reactions, he wasn't alone in that. Silently, he rose up off the floor, any aches and pains from the hard landing forgotten.
"Who the hell is that?" Ann exclaimed, pointing a gloved finger across the broad expanse of space spanning in front of them at a figure.
Akira followed Ann's finger and turned his attention to the slumped body several paces in front of them. Even from here, he could tell by the body shape and uniform that it was a boy. He seemed young, about their age, silky blue hair falling over one eye messily. The other was closed in what Akira hoped was apparent slumber.
But even more mind-boggling than the boy they'd found, was the door he was slumped against. It dwarfed his body, expanding into the space in front of them with a presence all its own. It towered above and to the sides of them, imposing and, in its own strange way, alive. It seemed to ooze power and aura.
Morgana—it seemed he was unscathed—slowly padded up to the boy. Ann fidgeted nervously, twisting one of her pigtails around a finger, but didn't attempt to stop him. Everyone waited with bated breath as he finally reached the boy and stood in front of him for a while.
"So?" Ryuji finally asked nervously.
Morgana was quiet for a moment. Then, "He's alive. I don't know how he got here or where here even is, but he's alive."
Ann exhaled in relief. Then her gaze travelled up the door in front of them, her eyes drawn as if by a force not her own. "But...what is this place? And what is this thing?"
Morgana shook his head, frustration evident. "I don't know. This place feels strange, but not like anywhere we've ever been before."
Haru approached Morgana, craning her neck back to peer up at the top of the door. "Do you think this door leads to someplace new in Mementos?"
Morgana shook his head again, agitated. "No. This place doesn't have anything to do with Mementos. This place feels different. Mementos led us here, but this isn't Mementos."
Akira could see Morgana growing more and more frustrated with himself, so he stepped in to reassure him. "Don't worry about that right now, Mona. We'll have plenty of time to think about it later."
Makoto nodded, though even she seemed to have trouble keeping her eyes from roving over the foreign structure. "Joker's right. Mona says this isn't Mementos, meaning we don't know what this place even is. It could be hostile for all we know. I think our first priority should be getting that boy out of here and out of the Metaverse." She shivered. "Especially considering what just happened with the Reaper."
Akira nodded. "Sounds like a plan. We can handle that last target another day. Everyone good with heading out for today?"
Resounding nods met his question.
Akira nodded again, this time more of a movement of confirmation than anything else. Honestly, he was trying to steel himself to move. For some reason, every step he tried to take closer to that strange door left him feeling a bone-deep chill. As if something was pushing him away. But. He couldn't let that stop him. As the leader of the Phantom Thieves, he had to take charge in this situation.
He forced himself to approach, even through the encroaching dread and darkness that felt inky and slimy. In fact, the whole room was painted in an inky blackness so deep that it seemed to seep into their clothing. Only the strange boy himself seemed untouched, practically haloed by the unearthly light the door seemed to resonate.
Somewhere behind him, Yusuke hummed. "What a stunning composition." Akira didn't even need to turn around to know he was framing the scene with his fingers, his usual habit. Akira internally commended him for being so obliviously unaffected by the atmosphere of the room.
Futaba piped up from behind him as he continued his approach. "I don't sense any hostiles. In fact, the only one I sense in here other than us is that boy. Though I'm getting a strange reading off that door. Nobody touch it, just to be safe. It could be the Gehenna Gate~," Futaba singsonged ominously, and Akira rolled his eyes. Privately, he was thankful for her breaking the tension with a dumb reference. That was probably why she'd done it.
Ryuji huffed and started past her, coming up next to Akira in the process. "What the hell, man, don't say that kind of thing. This weird goddamn door is creepy enough." Futaba snickered in response.
Akira and Ryuji reached the boy at the same time, and personally he took the chance to get a closer look at him. From this close of a distance, Akira could see that the boy was wearing a uniform that he didn't immediately recognize—but was weirdly vaguely familiar to him. A vivid red armband seemed offensively bright amidst the darkness of the huge room, but the rest of his clothes were simple standard uniform. He had a pair of old headphones and an MP3 player around his neck, but other than that, he seemed pretty nondescript. He had the look of the kind of person who liked to keep their head down. Despite that though, up close, his face seemed rather pretty, with the kind of delicate features some girls would definitely be into.
Akira scanned over the boy's position. He was directly leaning against the door, head lolled down over his chest and legs settled around him liked he'd simply fallen asleep while sitting there. It was weird.
He glanced back at Futaba. "Oracle! Were you serious about not touching the door?" He turned back to the boy. It'd be kind of hard not to touch the door, being that he was leaning right up against it. It'd be easiest just to pick him up as is. Or maybe...
Akira leaned forward and placed a gloved hand on the boy's shoulder, shaking it vigorously. "Hey. Wake up." There was no response. He shook a bit harder, and next to him Ryuji frowned.
"I don't think he's gonna wake up, man."
Akira sighed and shrugged. "I figured it was worth a shot. Oracle?"
"Um. I mean, it should be fine? But, like, I'm not positive nothing bad will happen. The door is giving me strange readings, but none of them are overtly hostile or active, so you might be fine? But I still wouldn't—"
Unceremoniously, Akira scooped the boy up in his arms, in the process slipping his arm between the door and the boy's back without hesitation. (Or, well, maybe he did hesitate, but only for a second). Ryuji cursed and stumbled back, his weapon in hand and legs braced. Akira paused for a second, looking at the door expectantly, but...nothing happened.
Futaba squawked with indignation. "Joker! I was literally saying—"
Akira turned quickly—even despite the boy he was holding in his arms slowing him down—letting his coat flare out dramatically. "Calm down, Oracle. Nothing happened." His back prickled as he strolled nonchalantly back to the rest of the Thieves. He brushed off the irrational feeling that the door was watching him.
Ryuji hurried up to his side. "Man, I never understand how you do this kind of thing. It's like you have no fear."
"I conquered my fear long ago." That wasn't actually true. He just found it easier to power through his fears in the Metaverse, while in his Joker persona.
"Man, you were like this the first time we tried to fight the Reaper, too." Ryuji shook his head, seemingly baffled.
Makoto sighed. "That was out of stupidity, not bravery. Joker just has a habit of reckless decisions. Don't encourage him."
Akira pouted at her. She rolled her eyes.
Morgana bounced up to them, though he seemed strangely subdued. He'd seemed that way since the moment they entered this strange space and found the door. Akira made a mental note to ask him what he was thinking later. "We should get out of here. It's possible this place may become unstable. It feels like it isn't supposed to be here."
Futaba hummed questioningly. "What are you feeling that I'm not, kitty? All I can tell about this room is that it's practically endless empty space."
Morgana huffed and crossed his arms, frowning. "I don't know, okay?" he snapped. "I can just tell that this place is unnatural. Whatever it is, it isn't supposed to be here."
"Are you alright, Mona-chan?" Haru asked tentatively, gently reaching out a hand, as if placating him.
Ann's brows furrowed and she looked down at Morgana. "Yeah, Noir's right. What's got you all high-strung?"
Morgana huffed again. "I...I don't know. I just feel like this place...is familiar somehow."
"Huh?!" Ryuji exclaimed immediately. His voice simultaneously echoed and was consumed by the yawning darkness. "You sayin' you've been here before, Mona?"
He stomped his foot and hissed. "That's not what I mean! I just mean that the way it feels is familiar! Like somewhere else I've been felt similar! I can guarantee you I've never been here before!"
Akira jumped in before they got into a squabble. "I understand what you mean, Mona. I know you haven't been here before. If you manage to figure out what it reminds you of, tell us, okay?"
Slowly, his ruffled fur seemed to settle. "Yeah," he murmured. "Thanks, Joker."
"Don't mention it," he murmured in response, quiet enough that it was only for him. He raised his voice back to a normal volume. "Oracle. Do you think the Reaper is gone?"
"Should be." Sheepishly, she toed at the ground. Err, void? "I'm sorry. If I'd been paying more attention to the other monitors, I would've seen the Reaper coming. I just got so focused on the reading clogging my system. It's my fault."
"It is not your fault, Oracle," Yusuke said simply. "Your systems were being blocked, were they not? You wouldn't have been able to tell it was there regardless."
She kicked the ground. "I guess that's true."
"Don't worry so much, Oracle," Haru said kindly, putting a hand on her elbow. "We know you're a very skilled navigator. Besides, no one got hurt."
Ryuji gave her a reassuring grin. "Yeah! S'not like we've never had to run from the Reaper before. And if not for that, we wouldn't have found this place, right?"
Makoto nodded primly. "That's true. And if we'd never noticed this place, we would've never discovered this boy. Who knows what would have happened to him in here?"
Akira put a hand on Futaba's head, patting her comfortingly. "You did good. Don't worry about it. We all make mistakes every once in a while. I was getting ready to call it a day anyways."
Eventually, Futaba flipped her mask up in order to give each of them a grateful look. "...Thanks, guys."
——
Akira ended up carrying the unknown boy bridal-style until they reached the entrance to Mementos. "I don't think I'll be able to carry him like this in the real world for long."
"Whaddaya mean, man, you're ripped!" Ryuji exclaimed.
Akira shot him a dry look. "Not that ripped." In fact, even in the Metaverse his arms were tired from the shorter distances he'd had to carry him by hand. He wouldn't call himself 'ripped'. He was fit. Not ripped.
"Skull could carry him piggy-back," Ann volunteered.
Immediately, Ryuji complained. "Hey, what the hell, man! Don't just sign me up for that!"
He was silent as he pondered it for a moment. Then he turned to Ryuji. "Can you do it?"
Ryuji didn't complain, only going similarly quiet. He kicked at the nonexistent gravel on the ground. "I mean...yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, I got him."
Ann beamed at him. "See, Skull is a softie when it counts!"
"Whatever," he mumbled in response, flushing underneath his mask.
Akira clapped him on the shoulder as he hoisted the boy up onto his back. "Thanks, man."
"Of course. I got your back." In a quieter voice, he added, "Plus, we can't just leave this guy in here. We gotta get him somewhere safer. You think Boss'll mind if we head to Leblanc?"
That...was a good question honestly. He hadn't thought too much about it. Boss would...kind of have to be okay with it, at least for now. They didn't have anywhere else to go. "He'll be fine with it," Akira finally responded. "You know he's really nice once it gets down to it." Ryuji nodded.
Akira turned to the rest of the Phantom Thieves. "Alright, we're headed back to Leblanc. Let's go." He turned on his heel and readied the app to lead them out of Mementos.
And he swore, out of the corner of his eye, he could see the both of the twins standing outside the Velvet Room, looking at Ryuji's passenger strangely.
——
"What the hell is this."
Akira twisted a lock of hair nervously around his fingers. "It's just for a little while. Just while we figure out who he is and what he was doing there."
Sojiro pinched his nose in that trademark Sojiro way. "And by 'there', you mean that 'Metaverse' world you kids go to, am I right?"
Akira couldn't help his fidgeting as it intensified. "...Yeah. We found him on our last trip unexpectedly. He wouldn't wake up. I thought we could let him sleep on the couch until he finally wakes up."
Sojiro crossed his arms. "What if he needs medical attention? It's possible he won't wake up on his own."
Exasperated, Akira pled his case. "Well, sure, but he didn't seem to have any injuries. Please, Sojiro. Just until he wakes up."
"He's a random kid. In my attic."
"My room," he corrected. "And Morgana will be watching him."
Sojiro raised an unamused eyebrow. "The cat."
"The cat," Akira confirmed.
The two stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Sojiro broke eye contact, closing his eyes tightly and sighing. "I trust you know what you're doing, kid."
A relieved smile stretched across his face. "Thanks, Sojiro."
To his surprise, Sojiro rolled his eyes. "Who do you take me for? I'm not just going to throw out some unconscious kid to the wolves. Just figure out what's going on with him and it's fine by me."
Akira smiled. "You're cool."
Sojiro returned his smile in that rough yet kind way of his. "It makes me happy to hear that. Now, let me get you and your friends some coffee..."
——
Sojiro could always count on this rag-tag group of kids to make his supposed-to-be-normal life interesting. After the government, a coffee shop owner had sounded calm. Normal. But of course, nowadays his life was often weirder than back when he worked for the government. Funny how life throws stuff at you like that.
The group of kids in question were currently piled into two booths, fiddling nervously with their phones or murmuring amongst themselves. After about two hours, Sojiro noticed that the cat—the cat which was supposed to be the boy upstairs' watchman—came down and joined the rest of the group. When they asked the cat about it—that was still something he wanted to double-take at—he replied with something that was apparently a good enough argument that no one put up a fight.
Sojiro glanced up from where he was drying some glasses. "Maybe you kids should go home for the day." A glance up at the clock would show that with all their time waiting, seven o'clock had rolled around.
"But...he's gotta wake up soon, right?" Sakamoto said, but his voice was edged with nervousness and his leg was bouncing under the table.
Niijima shook her head. "Not necessarily. We've never had anything like this happen before. We don't know how long it may take for him to wake up, or if he'll wake up at all."
The cat meowed something. Sojiro sighed as they all turned and listened to him sagely. "Can someone translate?"
Akira started. "Oh— Uh, Morgana just said that he doesn't think that'll be a problem. He says he'll wake up sooner or later."
Niijima sighed and gestured upstairs, eyes locked on Morgana. "And how do you know that?"
The cat meowed again. Okumura frowned lightly. "Mona-chan..."
Akira helpfully translated. "He says he 'just has a feeling'."
Sojiro nodded in the most no-nonsense way he could. "Uh huh." Akira merely responded with an apologetic smile. Cheeky brat. He's lucky I love him.
Sakamoto leaned over the booth to the one behind him, peeking over Kitagawa's shoulder. "Hey, man, whatcha doing?"
Kitagawa didn't look up from his work, pencil gliding over his paper in quick, light strokes. "I am sketching the scene we saw today. Ever since stumbling upon that door I have been struck by blinding inspiration!"
Immediately Sakamoto's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Man...that's seriously what you're able to focus on here? I don't think I'll ever get that about you. I'm so high-strung I can't think about anything else. Like...how did he even get there? We've never seen anyone else in there like that!"
Sakamoto started spouting off questions, but Sojiro stopped listening at the look on Futaba's face. She was sitting next to Kitagawa on her computer, her body facing the stairs. And her eyes were currently glued to them.
Sojiro turned his own attention to the stairs and managed to catch the barest glimpse of movement. He watched as the unknown kid hovered around the middle of the stairs, warily scanning the cafe and the rest of his surroundings. He moved with startling subtlety, managing to avoid the attention of everyone bar himself and Futaba. But though his bodily movements were smooth and slow, his eyes flicked around with what was surely panic.
Sojiro knew immediately he had to step in. "Hey, kid." The kid's attention turned to him, then startled when he realized Sojiro was staring right back at him. "Come on down." The rest of the room went quiet as the Thieves finally noticed the boy up and about.
In the silence, they could all hear Sakamoto's hiss. "What the hell, Mona! 'I'd hear him walking around' my ass."
Sojiro ignored Sakamoto and the cat's subsequent response (not like he could understand it anyway) in favor of focusing on the new kid. When they'd brought him in, he hadn't had much of a chance to take a good look at him. Now that he was awake and aware, he realized that maybe his first impression was a little off the money. With his hairstyle and the headphones wrapped around his neck, Sojiro had assumed he'd be more of a delinquent type. But judging by his somewhat doe-eyed expression and quietness now, he pegged the kid more for a shy straight-laced type than a hooligan. It was hard to say, though, considering that from the kid's perspective, he was in a completely unknown environment.
It was obvious he was uncomfortable by the way he moved, but he did listen to Sojiro's words and entered the cafe, hovering somewhere around the bathroom door. It seemed like he was wary of everyone in the room, but the large group of Akira and his friends seemed like the more daunting thing in his mind.
Sojiro made an executive decision. He'd told himself he'd let Akira and his friends handle their own otherworldly business, but not this time. This time, all he could see was a kid who was overwhelmed and unsure, and that group sure as hell wouldn't handle it as well as he could.
So he made sure to speak up long before any of them could get the idea to. "Hey, kid. You hungry?" Without waiting for an answer, he was already scooping a serving of rice and curry onto a plate for him. No kid that age could resist food. If he'd learned anything from that Kitagawa kid, it was that you can never estimate just how much a simple gesture like this could mean to someone.
To his surprise, the kid didn't say anything. Just shrugged.
Sojiro's instinct was to frown, but he forced himself to keep an open face. He didn't want to be misconstrued. "Really, it's fine, kid. It's not any trouble." He placed the full plate on the bar in front of him, the smell wafting around the café. Really, a meal could be so much more inviting than people for this kid right now. "Eat up."
The boy hesitated. It seemed like he wanted to accept it, but he still needed more encouragement.
Sojiro gave him his best warm smile. "I don't bite, kid. Seriously, I wouldn't be offering if I didn't want you to take it."
Finally, the boy very, very slowly slipped into the bar seat. And then he proceeded to stare at the curry as if he was a dog that'd been told 'no' toward eating a treat. Okay, so he needed just one more little push.
Sojiro busied himself at the coffee maker, hoping that the boy felt more at ease without his attention on him. "Try to eat it while it's hot," he said neutrally, keeping his gaze on his work.
After a while, he finally heard the boy pick up his spoon. Internally, Sojiro was grinning in success. People tended to tell him he was intimidating, but to hell with what they said. He liked to think he was a lot better with kids than people gave him credit for.
He was in the middle of trying to decide what blend the kid might enjoy when a soft-spoken voice caught him off-guard.
"...Thank you very much."
Sojiro turned over his shoulder. The kid had his face pointed down, but his gray eyes were holding onto Sojiro's without waver, as if he had to make sure Sojiro acknowledged his thanks. The spoon was gripped tightly in his hand, and a glance at his plate revealed he'd taken only a single bite. He shook his head at the kid gently. "No need to be so polite, kid," he replied, keeping a chuckle in his tone. "And don't worry about it. Feeding people is my specialty." He turned back around and resumed perusing his many different beans. "What'd make me happier than any thanks is seeing an empty plate." He eventually reached for a dark roast, deciding that this kid seemed like someone who might like their coffee bitter (Sojiro himself was much the same way).
When he turned back to the coffee grinder, he noticed Akira's friends looking like they were about to start launching into 20 Questions. In order to prevent that disaster from starting, he shot them his best 'sit down and shut up' look.
They sat down and shut up.
For a while the only sound that could be heard was the clinking of silverware on a plate as the kid ate his curry, and later the dull drone of the TV as Sojiro clicked it on for a little bit of background noise to cut through the awkwardness.
Once he was sure the kid was done with his curry, he wordlessly took the plate, exchanging it with a mug of dark coffee, black as night. The boy grabbed it with both hands, as if trying to warm them—although Sojiro knew it wasn't because he was cold. It was just a way to busy himself. He'd seen that type of behavior before, in Futaba.
"It's on the house," he made sure to say, coaxing the boy into taking a drink.
The boy met his gaze with earnest eyes. "...Thank you very much, sir."
Sojiro waved off his politeness and chuckled, moving to the sink to wash the dirty plate. "I said not to worry about the politeness. And 'sir' makes me feel so old. The name is Sakura Sojiro. But most of the kids call me 'Boss'."
A beat in the conversation that Sojiro expected (hoped) the boy would fill passed in silence. He simply nodded and tipped up his mug, beginning to sip his coffee. At the very least it seemed that he'd chosen a nice brew for him.
After it became overtly obvious the boy wasn't going to offer up his own introduction, Sojiro decided to push just a little bit. Nothing too strong, just enough to prompt him. He finished washing the dishes and flicked off his hands before drying them with a towel. Then, he turned to the kid at the bar with a patient look. "Alright, kid. Now that you've got a good meal in you, let's try this all again. What's your name, kid?"
Silence. Sojiro could just barely see his one visible eye narrow a little, gaze darting to the cup gripped in his hands. "...Don't know."
"You don't know?" Sojiro couldn't help but sound surprised. He figured it was better than the alternative—sounding accusing. Internally, he was mulling things over. Does the kid have some kind of amnesia? Or is he being withholding for some reason?
"How old are you?" Sojiro tried next. If the kid was being withholding, maybe he wouldn't feel pressured to lie about something visible like his age.
But there was no such luck. "...Don't know."
Sojiro quietly considered him. He didn't think the kid was lying about not knowing. If he was, it was extremely convincing. He let out a sigh, but not one of impatience or annoyance. "I see. Well, judging by your uniform, you're a second year. That means you’d have to be around sixteen or seventeen," he said, not unkindly, more trying to run through the facts. "I don't recognize the school emblem, though. We'll have to look into that. Alright, kid?"
The boy hesitated, then nodded silently.
In the background, Sojiro could see Akira's friends opening their mouths again. And, again, Sojiro wasn't going to let them pester this poor kid. He turned to the boy, checking his cup to see it about half-empty. "Kid, you seem like you could use a chance to get away and get your thoughts together. There's a bathhouse right across the street from here. Do you want to take some time to calm down and change out of your uniform?"
Slowly, very slowly, the boy nodded. Jeez, he was so tentative, Sojiro worried that just moving too quickly would be enough to startle him.
Sojiro nodded. "Alright. Go ahead and finish up your coffee, kid, and then you can head over there." Suddenly he turned his attention to Akira. "Would you mind getting him some clothes and a basket of stuff for the bathhouse? And show him where it is while you're at it."
Now it was Akira's turn to be quiet. He sat there, twisting a lock of hair and thinking—about what, Sojiro had no idea. Sometimes Akira was completely inscrutable. "...Sure." With that, Takamaki and Sakamoto scooted out of the booth to let him out, then slid back in. Akira tromped upstairs to go gather up his things.
Futaba whistled in appreciation, breaking the silence. "Dad-mode, activated."
Sojiro gave her a look. Honestly, that teasing was just like her mother.
"What?" she asked innocently.
Luckily, Akira chose that moment to return with some of his own clean comfortable clothes and some shampoo and soaps and towels. Sojiro grabbed the boy's cup and turned to wash it. From his place at the sink, he could hear Akira murmur to the kid about taking him to the bathhouse and to take as long as he wanted. Together they left the café, bell over the door tinkling.
The TV droned in the background as Sojiro dried off the glass and placed it back on its rack. He waited for that bell again before turning around and facing the kids, wiping his hands on his apron. He finally let his gentle demeanor fade, slipping into something no-nonsense. "Alright, kids. Tell me what happened. I wasn't going to get involved, but this seems a hell of a lot more complicated than you kids can handle alone."
Futaba fidgeted with her hands, tugging her legs up onto the booth seat. "Um. It's kind of a lot of Metaverse stuff."
Sojiro crossed his arms. "I don't care. I realize I've said to leave me out of the supernatural, but this case is more complicated than your other endeavors. And I wouldn't consider that kid," he pointed to the bathhouse, "to be a 'supernatural endeavor'."
Akira hummed thoughtfully from his place near the door. "I wouldn't be so sure of that." Only after saying those cryptic words did he re-join his friends in the booth.
"He's a kid, Akira. I don't care where you found him, a kid's a kid."
Futaba tapped her fingers together. "So if you don't care where we found him—"
"Don't be a smartass." Sojiro's brow furrowed as he glared at each of them. "Tell me everything that happened. Even if you think I won't understand."
Akira acquiesced quickly and without much resistance—proving that he could understand that Sojiro wasn't going to budge on the matter anytime soon. "We found him in the Metaverse, through a portal we'd never been through before, sitting against an ominous door several stories tall in the middle of a pitch black void."
What the hell. Sojiro took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled. Alright, cognitive bullshit, you win this round. And then he took his bewilderment, shoved it into a box, and shelved it for later. "...Okay." A breath. "Continue."
"Damn, Sojiro, I thought that would knock you out for the count for sure," Futaba remarked, impressed.
Akira continued. "So we decided to take him out of there and back here. We have no idea how he got in there, and no idea where 'there' even is. We also have no idea whether or not he's a Persona-user, and we don't have a way to find out short of just chucking him into the Metaverse like a dad throwing his kid into a lake."
Niijima raised a hand to her lips in thought. "Well, perhaps it wouldn't be that bad. Technically, we just need to take him into the Metaverse and see if his clothes change." Her maroon gaze flitted to Morgana. "Right, Mona?"
Sojiro wasn't about to question what exactly she meant by that. The only cognitive bullshit he wanted to hear about today was the necessary cognitive bullshit.
The cat meowed a response. The table nodded seriously.
"So are we going to attempt to do so?" Kitagawa asked, looking around the table.
Okumura cut him off with a strained smile and a raised hand. "I don't think that's a very good idea. He seemed very shaken up. If not for Boss's intervention, we likely would have overwhelmed him merely with our questions. And if he isn't a Persona-user, that would mean we'd have to explain the Metaverse to him. Don't you think that might be a little bit too much for him right now?"
Niijima nodded. "Haru's right. I don't think bringing him into the Metaverse should be an option, at least for now."
"Yeah. I mean, what if he just wandered into the Metaverse by accident?" Sakamoto wondered aloud. "That's probably possible, right?"
The cat meowed something, sounding annoyed—well, as annoyed as Sojiro had ever heard a cat sound. He looked to Akira.
"Morgana said: 'That's not possible, you nitwit. Remember that people are only dragged in through activation of the Nav app'."
Sakamoto looked offended. "Hey!" He looked to Akira in betrayal.
Akira raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, I was just repeating what Morgana said."
At the same time, Takamaki pulled out her phone and opened. "Oh yeah, the app! I didn't even think about that!" She looked up from her phone at the rest of them. "Couldn't we just check his phone to see if he has it?"
Okumura's eyes widened. "Oh! Good thinking, Ann-chan!"
Futaba hummed, not looking up from her computer, typing even as she spoke. "Thaaat's a no-go. He didn't have a phone on him."
Niijima looked shocked, even borderline appalled. "You searched him?!"
"Look, not for no reason," Futaba countered, annoyed. "I wanted to see if I could find anything identifying him. But there was zilch. Nada. We're talking no phone, no ID, not even a wallet. The only thing on him other than his clothes are his MP3 player and headphones. It's super weird. Honestly, I was just looking for his phone—nowadays everybody puts so much personal information into their phones—until I realized he didn't have anything on him at all. If we wanna find anything out about him, we'll have to do some digging the old fashioned way."
Niijima frowned. "Well, that rules out the 'Persona-user' theory and the 'wandering in' theory. After all, wouldn't we have noticed if he trailed us into Mementos? And why would he go in so deep if he did wander in, rather than just turn around and leave?"
"Maybe he didn't know he could," Sakamoto offered.
But Niijima shook her head. "But wouldn't that be the first thing you'd try? He doesn't exactly seem like the brave type."
"Well, let's set aside how he got in there for the time being," Akira said, and Sojiro was amazed at how unwaveringly they followed his words. "Let's go back to what Futaba said about tracking him down. It's more important that we figure out who he is in the first place rather than how he got in Mementos."
Sakamoto crossed his arms on the table and leaned over them. "Yeah, you're right. His parents are probably worried sick about 'em. Who knows how long he's been in there."
"I didn't recognize his uniform, like, at all," Takamaki murmured, leaning forward and resting her cheek on her hand. Sojiro didn't either. He'd wondered if maybe it was a newer school, or one further away that he'd never heard of. "Is it possible he's not from around here?"
"Possibly," Niijima mused. "I actually think our greatest lead isn't his uniform itself, but the armband he was wearing."
"Oh yeahhh," Takamaki said, straightening up. "I totally forgot about that! But it's so bright, it's hard not to notice, huh? What did it say again?"
"SEES," Niijima replied contemplatively.
Takamaki immediately brightened. "Oh, like the candy?"
Sakamoto sighed a world-weary sigh. Apparently this was a recurring thing. "Is all you know sweets?"
Kitagawa crossed his legs, nodding curtly. "I, for one, think it's a perfectly acceptable subject to be knowledgeable in."
Okumura—bless that girl's tender heart—politely steered the conversation back on track. "Um, while I agree that candy is a lovely thing to be passionate about, I think Mako-chan is more worried about what it means. After all, I doubt it's referring to the candy company. It is an armband."
"That is true. Is there some sort of school club that usually goes by that name? If so, it is not one I have heard of." Kitagawa added ruefully, "My apologies."
Takamaki chuckled awkwardly. "Don't worry about it, Yusuke. No one actually expected you to know."
"Ah. My mistake, then."
Sojiro shook his head. These kids.
Futaba's fingers flew across the keyboard. "I'll have to look into it online. I've never heard of it either, and I've watched every school life anime under the sun. Including the ecchi ones. My library is expansive."
Kitagawa cocked his head. "What is 'ecch—"
Akira hurriedly cut him off as Futaba snickered at Kitagawa's response. "Alright, we'll leave looking into the armband to you, Futaba."
Niijima raised her hand. "Actually, I'd like to look into it myself on the side. I also want to try to find what school that uniform is from."
Okumura clapped her hands together in delight. "Oh, Mako-chan, I was thinking the same thing! I'd feel bad leaving it only to Futaba-chan."
When Futaba replied, her words were dismissive. "I wont turn down your help. The more the merrier. But you don't need to worry about me—info gathering is my specialty. Mwehehe." She wiggled her fingers evilly. "I'll pry out the secrets of that armband one way or another."
At that moment, the tinkling of the door's bell dragged their attention away from the conversation and to the entrance. The boy stood there, hair still damp with water and a bundle of clothes in his hands. In place of his uniform, he was now wearing a cream-colored t-shirt and black sweats. He seemed more unruffled than he'd been earlier, a surprising change in demeanor that Sojiro frankly hadn't expected.
Akira blinked in realization and stood up, walking up to the kid and lifting his arms expectantly. "Oh, I can take your clothes and wash them for you, if you want."
The boy looked at him—still quite a bit warily—then nodded. Akira started to reach out to take them, but then the boy suddenly seemed to remember something and snatched something almost frantically out of the pile. Akira's hands stilled, surprised.
Upon closer inspection, Sojiro could see the red armband the kid had been wearing clutched in his fist. Wordlessly, the boy then handed Akira his clothes. Thankfully, Akira stayed silent about the behavior, although the cogs in his head were clearly turning. He gave the boy a smile, then slipped around him and out the door, being careful to give him space. Akira never failed to make him proud about his awareness.
"Is that armband important to you?" Futaba asked, voice casual but eyes sharp.
The boy nodded jerkily, clenching the armband tighter.
Futaba nodded. "Cool. Hey, mind if I take a picture of it?" Sojiro was surprised at her bravery. Maybe the fact that the kid was so quiet made her feel more confident?
The boy seemed disgruntled at that, but he still nodded and handed her the armband. She held up her phone and snapped a picture within the span of a moment, sliding the armband back to him quickly. "Thx. You can have it back now." He took it wordlessly, eyes glued to her phone. Sojiro definitely didn't miss how curious he seemed to be about it.
A minute later Akira slipped back into the store, sliding back into the booth nonchalantly. "Don't worry about the laundry. I'll take care of it." The boy nodded.
"So, what should we call you?" Takamaki asked him, twisting a pigtail as she looked at the boy in consideration. It seemed the kids were more eager to speak directly to him now that they'd talked amongst themselves. "Since we don't know your name yet."
The boy turned his attention on her, much too monotone for Sojiro's tastes. It rubbed him the wrong way to see him look so bland, when just earlier he'd been on the verge of panic. On one end, he wanted the kid to feel more comfortable. But on the other, he couldn't shake the worry that he was hiding his emotions on purpose now.
"...I don't care," he replied bluntly, much too blasé for the situation.
Takamaki immediately gaped. "What do you mean you 'don't care'? It's your name!"
He just shrugged.
Futaba raised her hand eagerly. "Well in that case, I have an idea! How about Aoi-kun, because your hair is blue!"
The boy opened his mouth—internally Sojiro hoped he wasn't about to agree to that—when Kitagawa spoke, solemn and utterly serious. "Then am I simply another 'Aoi-kun' as well? I can't accept a name so...meaningless." Sojiro resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Futaba patted Kitagawa's shoulder. "Of course not, Inari. You're Inari!"
Sakamoto raised his hand then, following Futaba's lead. "Oh, oh! Then how about 'Punk'? 'Cause he's got those headphones and that hairstyle?" Everyone stared at him blankly. He elaborated. "Because he looks like a punk rocker!"
Akira gave him a look. "How did you feel when we wanted to call you 'Thug'?"
Sakamoto immediately lowered his arm, instead rubbing the back of his neck. "That ain't what I meant..."
"Anyone else?" Niijima asked, though she seemed scared to hear anything more after that fiasco of a name.
Okumura clasped her hands together in front of her. "He reminds of hydrangeas..." she said softly.
"We are not nicknaming him hydrangea," Akira almost immediately responded. Sojiro almost felt a bit bad by how the girl's face fell.
Then Akira got a mischievous look in his eye as he hummed and leaned forward, gazing at the boy intently. "Door-kun."
"No." Every Thief spoke simultaneously. Even the cat meowed with them.
Takamaki splayed herself over the table, groaning into the tabletop. "Ugh! This is so hard!"
Every Thief fell silent as they all started thinking intently.
The kid himself broke their silence. "Aoi was fine," he said simply.
"No! I cannot accept giving you such a face-value name!" Kitagawa exclaimed, sounding entirely more upset with the choice than the actual person in question. "Just give me a little longer, and I can think of something appropriately meaningful."
"...I really don't care," the boy said again, cocking his head, as if curious by their intensity.
Sojiro decided to settle the argument here and now. "Alright, then. If the kid says Aoi is fine, Aoi is fine. At the very least, it's an actual name." He looked up at the clock. It read nine o'clock. "Shouldn't you kids be getting home? I think you'll have plenty of time tomorrow to keep talking about this."
Sakamoto jumped up. "Aw, damn! I gotta get back and help my mom with the shopping! I totally forgot!"
Luckily, Sakamoto's shout was the catalyst for the other Thieves. (Which was great, because Sojiro wanted them out of the café in order to put the kid—Aoi—more at ease). One by one, they agreed and began to pack up, preparing to file out.
"We'll text in the chat any more details," Niijima said with authority as she stood in front of the café door. A chorus of agreements met her. She turned her back and left, followed by the entourage of the rest of Akira's friends.
"I'll meet you back at the house," Futaba told him, following them out.
And then it was himself, Akira, and Aoi left in the store.
"Welp," Sojiro grunted out as he undid his apron and hung it up. "You're more than welcome to stay here, kid. Akira, if you want, you can stay at home with Futaba and I."
Not to his surprise, Akira shook his head. "I'll stay here with Morgana and Aoi."
"Alright," he replied gruffly. "Just make sure to stay safe and keep the place locked up."
Akira saluted him. "You got it, Boss." He waited until Sojiro had left before he turned to the other boy. "You can have the bed if you want."
Aoi shrugged. "I don't care."
A broad smile split across Akira's face. "Alright, the bed it is!"