#sil.pdf

"Akira?"

Speak of the devil. Pulling the single earbud out, Akira opens one eye to look at Yusuke, red-cheeked and bright-eyed. "Yeah?"

"While making my way towards the vending machine, I have noticed one with the most peculiar contents!" Kneeling down onto the blanket, Yusuke dumps a few cans on the soft material. "Please share your thoughts with me."

Akira sits up and, after a glance around, wraps his arms around Yusuke to pull him closer, pressing a quick kiss to the back of his neck. "Why not?" he says lazily against the sun-heated skin, as Yusuke hums softly, the way he does when tired but happy, before reaching out with one hand for a can and squinting to read the label.

It's canned bread — with a caramel swirl. Huh. So's the next one, but this time, it's with strawberry jam. Akira rolls his eyes — he's not a fan of sweets, Yusuke can't stand some textures in his food, so he may end unable to eat both loaves on his own. But hey, maybe the next one's better— Of course it's not, Akira thinks sourly.

"Hornet larvas, babe. That you are supposed to eat. Really." He reaches for the last can. "Grasshoppers."

"That's quite interesting, don't you think?" Yusuke sounds eager. "We talk about insects as if they're the lowest of low, the very symbol of... Mm."

"Oh, babe," Akira murmurs, his lips once again on Yusuke's neck. "Instead of eating bugs, you should drink some water and rest in the shadow for a bit." After wandering around in the harsh July sun (instead of vibing out on a blanket with his loving boyfriend, as any sane person would do), Yusuke must be almost about to have a sunstroke. It's a miracle he hasn't collapsed yet. With a pout, Akira loosens the hold on him, so Yusuke can grab the water bottle and sip from it daintily. They stay in silence for a few moments, as Yusuke seems to realize just how hot he is, judging by his increasingly uncomfortable expression. Sighing, Akira takes his hand and squeezes it gently, fingers loosely twined. Glancing up at him, Yusuke blinks owlishly before scooting closer and flopping onto the blanket with his head on Akira's lap — which isn't that unwelcome, to be honest. It's like a cat showing you its belly because Yusuke initiates prolonged touch only with people he trusts. And cats and foxes can, according to the videos Akira saw on the internet, behave in very similar ways, so here we go, symbolism, ain't that great. 

Shaking his head, Akira starts combing Yusuke's hair with his pictures. "Any better?" he asks after a few minutes have passed. 

Yusuke has closed his eyes, but he replies without missing a beat, "I think so. Thank you. You... You tending to me with such kindness is truly admirable. I owe you so much."

"Yusuke, that's kinda sad," Akira says softly. "But I guess it shows what we've known already."

"That is?" Yusuke sounds a bit alarmed but settles after Akira makes a soothing noise in the back of his throat.

"You've never been loved," he continues, voice just as gentle, "I can tell. Affection seems like too much of a gift. But, trust me, it's not. And, once again, no need to feel like you owe anything. I love you, okay?"

Yusuke, who's been listening to him with a troubled expression, relaxes and leans into Akira's hand, features brightening up into an unsure but fond smile. "Alright. I love you too."

"That doesn't mean, however, you can make me eat bugs."

"This— My intentions were not that you try those foods." Yusuke blushes. Nerd. Akira flicks him on the nose.

"As if you would."

"I— Um. The bread may be better?"

"Yusuke. Dear. Please tell me you got something else too."

(Another hard thing: remembering that she's Sakura, not Isshiki. Her last name is now that of a surly coffee shop owner who likes to take in strays. Fitting, to be honest, with how kind Boss has been to Goro. Probably kinder than he deserves.)

Kneeling to take a better look at Sakura's reddened, wet face, Goro fumbles for his handkerchief. She grabs it and wipes her eyes angrily so she can stare at Goro with so much anger it makes his heart stutter. 

"What?" she chokes out, sniffling. 

"Did something happen?" Goro asks, already visualizing every possible wrong scenario. Did something happen to Akira? Is it her father? (The thought of one of them being dead makes his stomach feel tight and heavy). Maybe one of her friends. Nijima? Kitagawa? Takamaki? 

"Jesus fucking christ," she groans. "Can't a girl have a cry because shit feels unfair in peace?"

"Unfair," Goro repeats, tilting his head. "It's always been like that. You must be aware of that."

"Of course I am," Sakura shots back. She gets to her feet, knees shaking, before having to lean on the counter. Goro moves to help her, but she bats his hand away and gives him another fierce glare. Nodding in agreement, he takes a step back and sits on the edge of a booth table. Without saying a word, Sakura climbs onto a stool and perches on it, arms tightly wrapped around her knees as she continues sniffling angrily, blood-shot eyes still piercing into Goro with all her might.

Well. The conversation is happening at last. 

"My mom should be alive but instead you're the one alive. I can't change it even though I want to. And I know I shouldn't." She shakes her head, almost smiling. "You're back in my life and I want to die again. So yeah. That's your confession, detective."

Goro nods, unsurprised. "Do you want me to leave?" 

"Yeah."

He can meet Kurusu tomorrow. And today, he can hide away from the world and try to digest the hard truth with all its barbed wire and old blood.

It's been a year now. Yusuke should be fine, damn it, he has been fine, but all it takes is a night terror too realistic not to be based on an old memory - and there he is. A Phantom Thief, a prodigy, breaking down in the dorm bathroom. 

(Hands that weren't kind. Words like razors. You were supposed to be my- my teacher, my damn parent, but you made me afraid of living in my own skin. There was only that one time you had actually hit me instead of threatening to; later on you didn't have to do that to have me obedient.)

That line of thinking does him no good, so instead Yusuke takes out his phone, hands shaking, and forces himself to swipe through the camera roll. It takes a bit more time than usual, but he does lose himself in snapshots of paintings, plants, and foods. When his mind no longer pelts him with every recollection of Madarame's abuse, Yusuke gets to his feet, thankful no one has happened upon his hysterics, and stumbles back to his room. Shutting off the lights, he wraps himself with his futon and presses his back to the wall. His katana, which may not be sharp but sure is heavy enough, rests close so Yusuke could reach for it in less than a second. He's safe. Damn it to all hell, he is safe. The door is locked, and the darkness blankets him like a woolen blanket. 

"I hate you," Yusuke whispers, so very childishly, into the abyss. His voice is trembling; he tastes acid and steel. "You were supposed to guard me from harm, but instead..." 

He's safe. He can protect himself. Were Madarame to appear here and try to injure him, Yusuke wouldn't hesitate to defend himself. But he's still afraid, even while knowing he's a free man now. The dread has settled into his bone marrow, refuses to leave. 

Speaking out, Sojiro hears how exasperated he sounds. "Is the cat in a onesie?"

"Uh, no?" Futaba stares at him from where she's curled up on the bed, Morgana in her lap. He looks as disgruntled as a cat can, pawing at his new outfit. Jesus, Sojiro wonders how this has become his life.

"Where did you even get it?" he asks, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. Futaba shrugs.

"On Wish." She looks down at Morgana. "Huh. I don't think Mona likes it." He meows again. "Yeah, he doesn't. Says he can't move in it."

"Dear god," Sojiro murmurs as he goes to pick the cat up and take off the offending piece of clothing. "Come, Morgana, let's get you some tuna as a reward for enduring this."

Morgana trills happily, butting his head against Sojiro's arm. "Shut up, Mona, it was you who complained you're cold!" Futaba protests as she follows them down the stairs and takes a seat on the stool. "Dad, could I have some coffee?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Sojiro says fondly, letting Morgana jump down onto a different stool and rest his front paws on the edge of the counter. "You want curry too?"

"Heck yeah," Futaba exclaims with a grin. "Akira's a loser for not being here already."

"Just a few more months," Sojiro reminds her before getting to preparing their food.