Some slight spoilers for the True Ending.
Futaba told herself not to look at the clock. She pleaded with herself not to even glance at it, but every passing second eroded her resolve. She bit her lip and glared at her computer screen instead, vigorously typing away at the keyboard. Her fingers were a blur as they danced over the plastic surface.
It has to be five by now. It has to be. It has to be! She glanced at the clock in the corner of her computer screen. 4:15. Of course it is… Akira, Morgana, and Sojiro had an ETA of five pm, meaning she was left to man Leblanc all by herself until they returned, and while she had leveled up her Charisma with strangers, that didn’t make it any easier dealing with them.
If Akira-kun was here, he’d probably charm all of them with a smile. Futaba lifted her head from her laptop and looked around the small cafe. Her only customers so far had been an elderly couple and lo’ and behold, they were still sitting down with their cups barely touched. The woman turned her head away from her husband and spotted Futaba spying on them. Uh oh!
Futaba’s impatient frown quickly transformed int a beaming grin, but rather than comfort the woman, it only seemed to frighten her. She quickly turned away and held up her hand to whisper at her husband. The older man’s mouth fell open, before he glanced at Futaba. Her face didn’t budge, even as recoiled and quickly threw some cash onto the table.
“T-thank you for the coffee. We’ll be going now. Sorry for intruding.”
“Huh? W-wait, did I do something-?” The door closed behind the two elders and the emptiness just left her loneliness all the more poignant. “Oh… Okay,” she sighed. She glanced at her computer screen again and sighed at the clock. 4:20… Futaba’s head fell onto the hard, wood surface of the counter and let out a long groan.
“Yes, you can, Futaba. It’s okay. I’m right here.”
The first time she worked at Leblanc, he had been there for her. Akira smiled at her and told her everything was going to be okay. He patted her on the head and took the challenge side by side with her. He was her key item, but it felt like more than that. He was her player two, and what was life without her co-op partner? Too hard and too dull, that’s what.
Futaba sighed and lifted her head up to glare at the clock. 4:25. She missed the raven-haired boy more than she was willing to admit to anyone. She missed waking up to play games together on his old console, and she missed going out at night to see the latest scifi hit with him. She missed him, and part of her hated how much she missed him.
The distinct ring of a bell tore her from the memory and she practically fell off of her chair as she greeted the customer. “W-welcome to Leblanc! What can…? Makoto?”
“Hello, Futaba-chan. I’m sorry, I hope I’m not disturbing you.” The older girl politely bowed her head in respect, not noticing the embarrassed pout that hung on Futaba’s face.
“A-actually, I wouldn’t mind the help… I need a player two,” she admitted, sighing in defeat. “Can you help, please? You’re my only hope!” The young girl clapped her hand’s together and lowered her head, pleading for safe passage through this impossible time frame.
“Alright, alright. Don’t worry, Futaba-chan. All you had to do was ask,” Makoto comforted. “Here, let me take care of the cashier and front desk. You can work on making and preparing anything the customers need, okay?”
With Makoto tanking for her, Futaba’s time at Leblanc was much easier to get through. The older girl took care of any customers that walked in and took their orders without difficulty, before giving the order back to the orange-haired girl. They made a good team, but her mind still yearned for what was missing.
5:01? He’s late… “Where is he?!” she growled, raising a ladle in her trembling hand. “He’s late,” she scowled.
“Easy there,” Makoto chided, taking the ladle from Futaba’s hand. “I’m sure he’s almost here. Just give him some time.”
“I’ve been giving him months,” she groaned, walking back to her laptop. “It’s felt like forever since I’ve seen him…”
“You’ve really missed him, haven’t you?” Makoto’s hand gently fell onto Futaba’s shoulder, comforting the pouting girl. “I hardly ever see you this riled up. Not even Yusuke messing with your fingers bothered you this much,” she commented, glancing towards the younger girl’s foot. It was bouncing on the ground with a rapid pace, an obvious sign of her anxiety.
“It’s just… It’s felt so long since I’ve last seen him,” Futaba sighed. “What if he doesn’t like me anymore? What if he’s changed since I saw him last? What if he’s been replaced by an evil version of himself?! T-there’s just too many things I don’t know!” Futaba ducked down to the ground and hid behind the counter, squeezing her knees against her chest as she cried out. “I take it back! He can take as long as he wants getting here!”
“Futaba!” Makoto was quick to crouch down, placing her hand on the girls shoulders as she tried to comfort her. “H-hey, it’s okay. Everything’s going to be alright. Akira-kun’s feelings for you will never change, and you’ve been talking to him since he left, right?”
“W-we play online games together,” the girl mumbled, nodding her head slowly. “He’s a pretty good Tank…”
“See?” Makoto smiled, though Futaba could tell she didn’t understand. “Everything’s going to be just fine.” The brunette lifted her gaze upward as they both heard the door open. Her smile widened and she held a hand down to Futaba. “As for the third one, why don’t we ask him ourselves?”
“H-huh?! W-wait!” Makoto lifted the shorter girl onto her feet and spun her around with ease. Curse her crazy-arm strength…! Huh…?
“Makoto! Futaba! It’s great to see you both again.”
Futaba felt like her heart skipped a beat, before stumbling into a mad, drumming pace. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out as her hands twitched by her sides. “U-uhh…” There he was, lips shaped in an upward crescent, schoolbag hanging from his shoulder, Morgana at his feet, glasses on his face, kindness emanating from his silver irises…
“It’s okay, Futaba. Just say hi,” coached Makoto. She squeezed the girl’s shoulders in a silent show of camaraderie.
“H-hey,” the girl squeaked.
“Hey.” He walked forward, and Futaba’s eyes followed him every step of the way. She felt a shortness of breath, not helped by the sound of her heartbeat banging against her eardrums. She swallowed spit down as he went around the counter and approached them. He hadn’t changed at all since leaving. His hair was still as unkempt as always, and his glasses still shimmered with that mix of excitement and mischief. He held a hand out to them as he greeted them once more.
“I’ve missed you a lot. Both of you.” Makoto took his hand and shook it. Futaba stared at their linked hands for a moment, her body as stiff as stone.
“It’s great to have you back, Akira-kun. We’ve all missed you…”
“Futaba? Are you okay?” he inquired, looking at her. “Fu-?”
She shot forward, out of Makoto’s grasp, and into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his body and squeezed as she took in his scent. He smelled different than before. He used to reek of curry and coffee from how much he made it. Now, he smelled like rose petals for some reason. A hint of not-so-cheap cologne, perhaps? She pressed her face firmly against his chest as her arms squeezed him with all the strength they had, fearful that if she let him go, he’d leave again.
The very thought left her stomach to churn and her pits to sweat. She buried those fears and worries as deep within herself as she could, before she pulled away. Her eyes were closed when she released him, but when she opened them he was still there. He wasn’t gone.
“You’re really back,” she whispered in awe. Her awestruck expression was soon wiped away as the moment sank into her heart and mind. Her grin turned toothy and wide as she released all of the anxiety and worry that had been plaguing her. “You’re here! Akira’s back!” she cheered, lifting her hands to the sky. “Welcome back!”
“I’m happy to be back,” he admitted. “Oh, and I got you something, Futaba-chan.”
“What?! Really?! I got a gift?!” Futaba was practically hopping in place as Akira placed his bag on the counter and unzipped it. He rummaged through the contents for a moment, before pulling out something out of it. The younger girl gasped at the sight of the stuffed animal in his hands.
It was a unicorn, with fur as black as midnight and eyes a shimmering violet. The horn was a soft grey and the mane was vibrant crimson that clung to the creature’s neck. The snout was rounded, almost bulbous, and the lips were formed in a small, almost knowing, smile.
“To match the one in your room. I know he’s a little small, but-”
“I love him!” Futaba stole the small horse from his hands and stared at it with joyful eyes. “Thank you so much, Akira!” She hugged him once more, the stuffed unicorn captured against his back. “You da man!” she declared, once she had released him again.
“I’m glad you like him, Futaba-chan.” Akira lifted his hand and gently stroked Futaba’s head, fingers patting against orange locks.
W-whoa! There went her heart again, racing and pounding as she squeezed the stuffed animal in her small hands. It was nothing like the affectionate strokes of her mother. Her mother’s touch was refined, controlled, or at least that’s how it had always made Futaba feel. Akira’s touch was like embers landing on her head. Hot. Dangerous, yet exhilarating. It reminded her of her time as a Phantom Thief…
The ashes burned her face, but not painfully. It was a pleasant warmth that tickled her skin and made it tingle for a moment. The sensation raced down her body like a waterfall, making her skin turn a rosy hue. It felt nothing like her mother. It felt like an inferno in her heart that wanted to burst out and run wild in the world.
“Nothing for me?” teased Makoto. Her voice helped Futaba distract herself, and she looked at the older girl with slight confusion.
Akira just chuckled and stroked the back of his neck. “Nothing yet. Sorry, Makoto.”
“Hm. I suppose I can forgive you…” Makoto and Akira chuckled at the brunette’s mock annoyance. “I’ll contact the others. We should have a party to celebrate your return!”
“That sounds great. What do you say, Futaba? Care to join us tonight?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world! Yeah! Let’s get the party back together!”
That night, Futaba was reminded about why she loved her friends so much. Everyone, even dumb ol’ Inari, brought a spark to her soul and made her grin all the more wondrous. She laughed with the others as Morgana ate twice his weight in suishi, and she cheered Ryuji and Ann on as the two had a drinking contest with the darkest, bitterest coffee Leblanc had. Ann won, of course, and Futaba joined in with congratulating her and teasing Ryuji over his defeat.
All the while, the shadow-colored unicorn sat in her lap, pressed into her stomach. The stuffed animal was a gift from her very best friend and she’d be damned if she was going to lose it or let it get dirty. She sat at a bench and watched Akira deal with the others, promising meet-ups and future adventures with each of them as her fingers played with the unicorn’s soft fabric.
“We must go to the museum together sometime this week. I have several works of mine that I must show you.”
“Ooh! We have got to hit the buffet again! It’ll be awesome! I heard they have a new dessert platter that is to die for!”
“The garden atop of the school is coming along splendidly! I hope you have time to come see it with me.”
Akira made plans with everyone until they were finally satisfied, and he sat down beside her when they finally released him. He let out a sigh of relief as she scooted away from him, her side pressing into the wall as his fingers combed through his hair. She had always loved it when he did that. It was like he was a hero from one of her favorite anime, just taking everything in stride and rarely showing the weariness on his face.
He smiled at her and her cheeks turned a rosy hue. “Hey, Futaba? I noticed Sojiro never threw away the old videogame console I had. Why don’t we play a game tomorrow morning? Just like old times?”
“Y-yeah! That sounds awesome! I’ve been practicing my Power Intuition skills! I’m gonna kick your ass,” she grinned.
“Aww, you’re not gonna take it easy on me?”
“Psh! Futaba Sakura doesn’t have an easy mode! Hiya!” She threw a mock punch at Akira, and he grunted as it tapped his cheek. His head swayed back and forth, as if the attack had left him dizzy. “Oh, open for another combo, huh? Hiy-”
“Having fun you two?” Makoto greeted them with drinks in hand.
“Heh. She’s a monster. An unstoppable monster,” joked Akira.
“Oh, I’m sure,” laughed Makoto as Futaba pouted. “Are you okay, Futaba?”
“Mhm. I’m alright whenever I got Joker by my side,” she admitted, with a hit of rose on her cheeks.
“I’m glad. You know we both really care about you, Futaba. You’re like the little sister I never had,” Makoto confessed, causing another wave of heat to touch the younger girl’s face.
“Heh. I can relate to that.” Futaba felt her skin light up as Akira’s hand stroked her head. She nearly melted at the touch as the raven-haired boy looked at the brunette. “Oh, Makoto? Would you mind accompanying me upstairs? I wanted to give you your gift.”
“O-oh. Of course,” she replied. Futaba raised a brow at the sight of the girl’s discolored cheeks, before looking at Akira.
“I’ll see you in a bit, Futaba. I’d love to hear how you and Kana-chan are doing later.”
“R-right! I’ll make sure to give you all the deets!” Futaba gave the older boy a thumbs up, and he returned the sentiment, before walking away with Makoto. Futaba watched them with a curious stare. “Am… I missing something?” she wondered.
The party was still in full swing, and the others barely even noticed their leader and second-in-command’s exit. The two walked up the stairs to his room, leaving the festivities behind without hesitation. While the others continued to enjoy the night, Futaba frowned in thought. Something weird going on here… Maybe I should check it out?
She lifted herself off of the bench and walked towards the attic door. No one tried to stop her, they barely even noticed her as she approached the door. She pressed her ear to the door and tried to listen for their voices, but it was impossible with the noise behind her. She let out a low groan of annoyance, before quietly opening the door and slipping inside.
“How does it feel to be back?”
“Good. Amazing, really. I’ve missed all of you a lot.”
“And we’ve missed you. This city just felt… less without you, if that makes sense.”
It sounded just like any other conversation. I’m probably just being paranoid, thought Futaba. I-I should go. Give them their privacy back…
Futaba could practically hear the blush in Makoto’s face. She snickered at the girl’s embarrassment as she turned to the exit. Poor, poor Makoto. I wonder if Akira got her a stuffed animal too?
That… that doesn’t sound right. Futaba couldn’t see the two from her perspective, so she slowly climbed up the stairs. She did her best to remain as quiet as possible as she slowly moved higher and higher up the wooden steps. Never had they felt so long or steep than now.
“A-Akira…” She sounded like she was struggling to say those words, like it was almost impossible to speak. Makoto gasped for air, panting like she had just ran a mile. “I missed this…”
“So have I.” Akira’s voice carried a reverb that sounded so… unlike him. It didn’t sound angry, but it sounded like a growl. He was animalistic, in a way. “I want you.”
Futaba’s face turned hot when she heard him say those words. Her throat turned dry as her heart pounded against her ribs. Her hands became sweaty and clammy as she peeked over the staircase. Her eyes widened as what she saw became engraved into her memory.
Akira and Makoto were on his sofa together. The girl’s arms were around his neck as he leaned over her. He had a hand on her leg, stroking her inner thigh as his other hand pressed against her ample chest. They were making sounds she had never heard from either of them; sounds that revealed their desires. Futaba could only watch as something inside her shattered.
“I love you, Makoto,” moaned Akira when their kiss broke. The brunette laughed, and Futaba found the sound grating and mocking. “I’ve missed you so much…” He sounded so bewitched. He was in need of her touch, burning for it. Her fingers stroked his cheek as she leaned in for another kiss.
“I love you too, Akira-kun…”
This isn’t right. Stop. Stop! Futaba tried to scream, but nothing came out of her throat. She pleaded for herself to move, but her legs were deaf to her mind. She felt like she had dropped in a sea of strangers. She felt herself drowning in mocking faces and cruel cackling as the young man and woman gave themselves to one another. Her vision was fading as they continued to kiss, ignorant of her existence.
“Mmmph… A-Akira… W-we have to go back downstairs. The others will wonder where we went.” Makoto usually sounded so strong, but his touch brought out something in her. Desire, cardinal cravings that left Futaba feeling queasy inside.
“I know, but it’s just been so long since I’ve kissed you. Is it so wrong for a man to miss his girlfriend?”
Futaba’s vision blurred as she finally inched back. Her hands covered her mouth as she tried to control her breathing. She hadn’t even realized how hard it had suddenly become. I-I have to go. The stuffed animal in her hands was choked against her body as she inched backwards once more. She saw the two share one last kiss as they finally pulled away from one another. I-I have to leave.
She ran from Akira’s room, not even bothering to close the door behind her. She ran into the party, only to cry out in shock as she ran into someone. There was a cry of surprise, someone yelling, an apology even, but she didn’t listen. Iced tea spilled onto her head as she fell to the ground. It was cold, and it made her skin feel sticky, but she didn’t let it stop her. She pushed back whoever was in front of her and made a dash for the exit.
She pushed the door open and ran out of the cafe, running down the alleyway and towards the nearest road. She was panting, footsteps growing heavier and heavier as she tried to rationalize what she had seen. H-how long have they been…? W-why didn’t they tell any of us?! Why does my head hurt so much? Her body felt hot, yet cold at the same time.
Her heart ached in her chest, like someone was dragging a knife against it. The cold wind slammed against her body, and she shivered from the cold breeze. The drinks that had spilled onto her body only made it worse, but she didn’t care. She refused to go back to Leblanc. There was no shelter for her there. Not from what truly pained her.
She felt sick. She felt like she was in a dream but no matter how hard she bit her own lip or dug her nails into her own arms, she couldn’t wake up. It didn’t feel real. Nothing did. She clung to the stuffed unicorn for security, but it offered none to her. Her fingers traced along a seam, and it felt cold and artificial in her shaking fingers.
W-what’s happening to me? What’s wrong with me…? Everything felt wrong, like someone had taken her world and covered it in plastic. Her skin felt hard from the chilly breeze, and her mouth tasted like bile. It made her gag, and it made her stomach churn as she tried to compose herself. She put a hand to her head and she tried to breathe, but every breath felt lacking and polluted.
Stop it. Why are you acting like this? What she saw replayed in her mind, as if answering her, or maybe it was mocking her? She saw the way Akira held Makoto in his hands. She couldn’t miss the glimmer that shined in his eyes when he spoke to her. She couldn’t ignore the smile he wore when she kissed him. She couldn’t forget any of it, not as it burned its way into her mind. Her vision melted and blurred as she trembled in place.
“Futaba?” His voice called out to her, like it always had. She let out a tiny gasp as she kept her back to him, staring into the dark sky. “What are you doing out here? Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah. Just a stomach ache,” she lied. She tried to control her breathing so he couldn’t hear the tiny hiccups and pants that fought to escape. She inhaled, trying to bury her own sobs, before muttering. “A-Akira? Y-you like me, right?”
“Of course I do, Futaba. You’re one of my closest friends.” His words felt fake. Practiced. “You’re like a little sister to me. I’ll always care about you.” The words felt like a knife, plunging into her back and cutting through her skin.
Sister…? The tears were traveling down her face now. She couldn’t stop them. She bit into her lip, not caring as she puncture the flesh and tasted her own blood. “T-thank you…”
“Futaba…? What’s wrong?” His hand touched her shoulder, but she stepped away. Her arms squeezed the stuffed animal, crushing it in her shaking hands as she gasped through the sobs.
“I-I’m sorry. It just… I feel sick.” It wasn’t a lie. “It hurts a lot. I-I need to go!”
“Futaba!? Futaba, wait!” She ran from him. He didn’t follow, and it stung to feel relief at that.
Sojiro knocked on her door last night and called out to her, but she just closed her eyes and pretended she wasn’t there. Eventually, he gave up on her.
She sat on her chair, staring at her computer’s screen saver. It was a picture of her and Akira at Destinyland, riding the Ferris Wheel for the fifth time. She had begged and pleaded with him for one more ride on it, and he relented. He always ended up giving her what she wanted. They rode on the giant mechanism and laughed together as they pretended to be kaiju. They imagined stomping through the city together, leaving a wave of destruction behind them as they played pretend.
The photo was a selfie that Akira suggested. They had their mouths open and their free hands lifted up like claws. They were in the midst of a twin roar, the skyline of the city behind them. They were so happy. So at ease with one another.
“Please, be my key item!”
He had always been there for her. She could still see his smile when they had gone to the beach together. He looked so… proud of her. He was happy to have her. He didn’t look down at her, he didn’t get frustrated with her. He was so perfect. The perfect friend.
But girls didn’t hurt this much for friends, not even perfect ones. Somewhere in her heart, she knew why her body ached, but she didn’t want to admit it. She couldn’t. Not now.
Futaba tore an arm away from her stuffed animal and flicked the mouse with a single finger. The screensaver vanished, and Futaba stared at her desktop. The picture of her and Akira was wiped away from the screen. She wished she could do the same with her sobbing heart. Her arm returned to embracing the stuffed animal, only to hesitate.
She looked down and stared at Akira’s gift. A toy. A stuffed animal, perfect for a child. Her fingers traced the seams that held the creature together. They poked and prodded, digging against the soft fabric.
A sister. A baby. That’s… that’s all he ever saw in me. Her hand reached towards her desk, and she picked up a mechanical pencil from a small cup. I’m his little sister. Just a little girl to him.
The words were agonizing to admit. She took a slow, stuttering breath as tears cascaded down her face. It wasn’t beautiful like her shows and manga made it out to be. It wasn’t a single tear traveling down her face. She let out a quiet wail as rivers flowed from her eyes. She wanted them to stop, she prayed for them to stop, but they didn’t. They just flowed down her cheeks as she gasped for air.
I hate him. It was a lie, of course. She couldn’t change how she felt. She couldn’t say she hated him, because she didn’t. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t hate Makoto either. She couldn’t. Stupid.. dumb… She wiped her arm against her eyes, as snot flowed from her nose. Makoto doesn’t cry. She’s older than me. She’s a mature, young woman. She’s strong. She doesn’t cry. Only stupid, dumb little girls cry.
She held the pencil in her hand and stabbed the unicorn’s eye, ripping through the cloth. She gouged out the creature’s eye and swirled the sharp point around against his cotton filling. Why couldn’t I be older? Would he have liked me then? If I was bigger and stronger? Or if I was smarter? Is it just age? Just a year. If she had been born a year sooner, would she be in Akira’s arms?
Something broke inside of Futaba. She let out an agonizing bellow as she tore at the toy’s face, puncturing the soft, quilt and revealing the cotton and wool inside. She wept and bawled, resembling the child that Akira so despised. She threw the pencil aside and tore at the stuffed animal with her hands, ripping the fabric apart as she gasped for air.
It stung her hands to tear at the sewn flesh, but she didn’t care. Her fingers were red as she tore it apart, drips of salty water falling into the mutilated remains. She threw them at the wall, knocking her Phoenix Ranger Feathermen figures onto the ground. Some of them shattered apart, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as she held her head and wept.
She knocked her glasses to the ground as she wiped away the tears and snot. I could make him happy. I could hold him. I could… I could have been good for for him. But the simple truth was, he didn’t pick her. He didn’t see in her what she saw in him. He never would.
Maybe she would recover one day. Maybe things would change. Maybe.
But all she could do was cry at the life that slipped through her fingertips. She had lost so much due to something as simple as age, or perhaps it was something more complicated. Maybe there was just something wrong with her as a person. Whatever it was, she had lost a game she had never even realized she was playing.
Her mind was lost to a fog of heartbreak. She wanted to disappear. She wanted to go back to being a nobody in her room. She never wanted to set foot outside again. She even wished that Akira and Makoto could see her now, so they could see what they did to her. Some small part of her told herself how childish she was acting.
That’s why he doesn’t want me. Because I’m childish. Futaba wiped at her eyes again and lifted her head up. She had been crying for so long, time had just left her behind. Her screensaver was on again, and she stared into her reflection’s grinning eyes. She looked at Akira and his captured image smiled back at her.
She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to think. When tomorrow came, what was she supposed to do? Act like nothing happened? She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to be around for tomorrow…
She closed her eyes and just allowed her body to exist. Tears dropped from her eyes and onto her shirt as the hours ticked by, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.
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