Work Text:
.heather.
Akira was gray.
Yusuke hadn’t really expected it. At first glance, Akira looked like a deep red or maybe even a reddish-purple, but he was undeniably gray as soon as he opened his mouth. The color had exploded into Yusuke’s senses; it wasn’t even a flat, one-note gray. It was gray like a luxury wool suit, deep and textured, somehow both cool and warm at the same time.
It really was a shame that Akira was so quiet. It forced Yusuke to seek out that gray for himself. Everyone else in their group freely let him feel their yellows and blues and greens, but that gray had to be sought after. Pointed, directed questions or moments where no one else could figure something out… that was where the gray truly shone.
It’d gotten to the point where gray was even infecting his art. Yusuke felt like he was addicted, like he was born to paint in grayscale exclusively. He even started carrying a sketchbook—well, he always carried a sketchbook. But this one was new, bought with money Yusuke really didn’t have, and pencil-exclusive—for when that gray inspiration particularly struck him. But eventually, just listening for the occasional spark or imagining Akira’s voice wasn’t enough.
He was glad that Akira agreed to people-watch with him. Not many found it particularly fun. And it wasn’t really supposed to be fun ; it was supposed to be interesting . Nonetheless, Akira joined him occasionally, and it fueled Yusuke more than anything else.
“Describe that woman over there,” Yusuke said, nodding to an anxious woman sitting on a bench. He was preoccupied with a previous sketch: a young man that had been running through the station and somehow morphed into Joker sprinting through Mementos as Akira spoke. This next one, he was sure, would become the true subject.
Well, he’d been saying that for the past few times.
“I actually have to get going,” Akira said.
Yusuke felt like he was making soft sighs of relief every time that gray washed over him, but he really hoped he wasn’t. Akira would probably find it strange.
“Sure. No worries at all.” Yusuke glanced down at his page one more time before closing the sketchbook. He still wasn’t quite sure if he could call today’s venture successful or not.
“Things to do, people to see.” Akira shouldered his bag. “Cats to let out.”
Morgana chimed in with his dusty red. “I’ve been waiting long enough, y’know! Maybe you should take me home before having a social life. Do you know how fun people-watching is for me?”
“I apologize for keeping you so long,” Yusuke said, and he was. It would be selfish of him not to apologize. After all, Akira didn’t need to spend time with him. Despite how he acted, he was actually quite busy. Yusuke couldn’t fathom how one could keep such a cool exterior with so many things to keep track of.
Akira shrugged. “It’s fine. Did you draw something good?”
Yusuke thought for a moment. “Not necessarily good, but I feel like I’ve started to let go of something that had been hindering my progress in school.” Because his teachers didn’t quite appreciate the constant use of grayscale, but Yusuke supposed that was just what happened when something as free as art was institutionalized.
“Then there’s no need to apologize! I’m glad I could help.” Akira smiled at him, and Yusuke felt a strange pang within himself. “Well, I’ll be seeing you! Get home safe, okay?”
“You, too,” Yusuke said, and Akira gave a short wave before walking away.
.periwinkle.
Yusuke was grateful that Akira was comfortable in silence.
Some of his classmates seemed to think that his occasional silence meant he hated them. Which he didn’t. He didn’t feel one way or the other about his classmates. They didn’t talk to him often, so he made no effort to please them. In truth, he didn’t even really care what they thought of him. It made school a bit lonely, but he didn’t go to school to make friends anyway. He went to school to thrive. To get better.
The rain picked up, pattering a little harder against his dorm’s window. Akira sat on Yusuke’s bed, flipping through an art book as Yusuke continued to sketch out his next work on his canvas. He wasn’t in any rush for this piece. The rain just inspired him, and he thought it was nice to work in Akira’s company.
He hoped this one wouldn’t turn out gray.
“Are you enjoying it?” Yusuke asked, without looking away. “The book.”
“Mm.” Akira flipped through the pages. “I don’t really know a lot about art, but I like looking at it.”
“Why does it matter whether or not you know anything? If a work is good, then it makes the admirer feel something even if they know nothing at all.” Yusuke set down his pencil and crossed the room. He picked up a palette and a few colors, nearly forgetting an actual paintbrush before he returned. “Why do you like looking at it, then?”
Akira hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I guess it’s because of the feeling, like you said. There are some pieces that I can look at, and it kinda feels like I’m somewhere else.” He moved to Yusuke’s bookshelf, replacing the book he took. His eyes scanned the shelf, and he picked a thinner one. “When you get one of these, I’ll buy ten copies.”
“That’s excessive.” Yusuke went to wet his brush, but realized he’d forgotten to grab some water. He looked at the cup he’d been drinking from. Well, it was full enough, so he dipped his brush in and went for a light blue.
“I don’t think so.” Akira laid back on the bed, holding the book up in the air. “I’ll keep two copies for me, and then I’ll donate the rest to libraries. Or maybe schools.”
“Why do you need two copies?”
Akira waved around his new book. “Why do you need two copies of this one?”
Yusuke quieted. He didn’t really know what to say besides a sheepish I forgot I already had a copy , so he figured it would be better to not say anything. He chewed on his bottom lip as he painted and listened to the rain and the occasional page flip.
“Hey.” Akira broke the silence this time. “I know color theory is a thing. Like, I know it exists, but I don’t really know anything about it. So sorry if this question is really dumb, but how do you know what colors you’re gonna use?” He paused, and the continued. “I mean, if you’re replicating something real, then I get you just use the real colors. But if it’s abstract, or you’re just doing whatever you want with the colors, how do you know?”
Yusuke stopped painting. Damn. He didn’t even realize he was starting to mix his light blue with a dark gray.
But he considered Akira’s question carefully. He wondered if Akira would ridicule him for the truth, like most others did. On one hand, he could never imagine Akira making fun of him, but on the other hand, his method was quite outlandish, so maybe Akira would be more weirded out than anything.
So Yusuke took a breath, and asked, “Have you ever heard of synesthesia?”
His heart was pounding, and he immediately regretted it as soon as the words came out. Akira was looking at his strangely, so surely this meant that he’d get up and leave and they’d never speak again and Yusuke would be booted from the Phantom Thieves.
“Hm. I feel like I’ve heard the term before, but in my infinite well of knowledge, I can’t find the definition. What is it?”
It took a second for Yusuke’s mind to catch up with his mouth, but eventually, he said, “It’s… a condition, of sorts? Not a bad one, but a condition. It’s where the afflicted feels colors when they hear sounds, most typically music and voices.” He took a pause and proceeded carefully. “I… have it, so when I’m painting, I like to think of how it might sound. Like if the scene had a voice or a melody, I’d think of how that would feel in terms of color.”
“Hey, that’s really cool!” Akira smiled, a big, full smile. “You’re really interesting, Yusuke. Does my voice have a color? Is it annoying if I ask that? Do people ask it all the time?”
“I don’t really talk about it, so not many people ask.” With his heartbeat evening out, he picked up his brush once more. “Your voice is gray.”
“Oh.” Akira didn’t really sound disappointed, like Yusuke expected. He sounded more interested than anything.
“It’s not a drab gray, though.” Yusuke swirled his brush, forming stormy clouds across the middle. “It’s… very deep. Very rich. It’s both warm and cool at the same time, and I can’t quite seem to capture it exactly on canvas.”
“That’s really cool.” Akira was laying on his stomach, art book discarded in favor of watching Yusuke. His chin was propped up on his hand. “Does it change when I’m Joker?”
Yusuke thought back to some of the times in Mementos or Palaces, when his thoughts would be muddled by ailments. Where he could hardly see or hardly move or hardly breathe and Akira’s gray would be a beacon throughout it all, shining through his mind as Akira gave him something to alleviate it. He thought about standing next to Akira in battle, his gray piercing through the heat as he called his persona.
“No,” Yusuke said finally. “No, it remains the same.”
Akira hummed again. “So is it because I’m here that you’re painting that color?”
Yusuke glanced at his canvas. The blue seemed nearly completely snuffed out, and Yusuke sighed. Akira laughed a little, returning the book to the shelf and not picking a new one. He sat back down on the bed and continued to watch as Yusuke dipped his brush in the water and picked a new color.
The sun peaked through the clouds.
.chartreuse.
Yusuke had never before been so close to death.
The Shadow hit him, and he was knocked to the ground. His vision was cloudy, and he felt like he was barely hanging on. He knew, then, why Morgana had advised against them continuing further. They really were much deeper than they had any business being, and the Shadows so far down were much too strong.
Someone must have healed him slightly at some point, as he was able to at least stand shortly after. He still couldn’t see well, and every move felt sluggish. He tried to hit, and he missed, and the Shadow got another blow into him.
He stayed down that time.
The battle continued around him. He was filled with the garish orange of the Shadow’s growls, and it was starting to make his head ache. Yusuke was fighting to hang on, but all of his muscles refused to move. All he could afford to focus on was breathing, but all he seemed to tune into was that horrible, horrible orange.
And then, there was gray.
“Fox! Can you hear me?” It was distant at first, but began to roar as Akira drew closer. Yusuke wanted to respond, or at least open his eyes, but he still could hardly breathe. “Mona, get over here! You need to focus on healing him. Is he conscious?”
“My scan says he’s still alive, at least.” Yusuke could barely pick up Futaba’s bright blue, but it was comforting to hear her voice. “Mona, are you working on it?”
“I’m getting there.”
“Please hang on.” Akira’s soft voice drowned out all the rest.
Slowly, Yusuke felt his strength returning. He was able to only take a deep breath at first, but then he opened his eyes. Mumbled something a bit incoherently. Sat up.
“Oh, my God !” Akira grabbed him by the shoulders for only a moment before he pressed his forehead to Yusuke’s. “Don’t scare me like that. Okay? It’s not allowed. We’re gonna go back. Does anything hurt?”
“Sorry,” was all Yusuke could get out. “I’m okay.”
“Good. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you.”
“I—” Yusuke’s breath caught in his throat, and suddenly he felt renewed with Akira so close to him, almost like nothing had happened at all. “I love you.”
It was the first time they’d said it, but certainly not the last.
.orchid.
It took some getting used to.
Yusuke had to get used to it. To touching Akira. He would freeze up when their shoulders brushed, and every bodily process he had nearly shut down when Akira sat so close that their arms touched constantly. Yusuke always thought he took up too much space—especially so when he was invading Akira’s.
But that was the thing. Akira didn’t mind. Akira didn’t mind , and he let their shoulders press up against each other when they were crammed on the subway and he let the backs of their hands touch as they walked down the streets and he let Yusuke get comfortable with touching him at his own pace. Like ice melting away, Yusuke stopped freezing, stopped overthinking, stopped wondering if Akira would hate him for a touch on the shoulder every once in a while.
They walked through the backstreets of Yongen, slowly, in an attempt to prolong their time together. It was a hot summer day, and the sun was going down. Every building was painted with gold, the sky streaks of orange and purple and red, and Yusuke stopped suddenly as Leblanc came into view. He held up his hands, framing the sight on a whim and adjusting accordingly. It really was a beautiful sight: a fairly empty street, buildings tightly packed together, the dusty chalk sign of the cafe increasingly more inviting the more he stood in the hot street.
He felt Akira’s chin on his shoulder, his hand grasping Yusuke’s hip for balance as he stood on his toes. “That looks cool. Are you gonna paint it?”
The tips of Yusuke’s ears burned. He went from feeling hot to feeling pleasantly warm. That’s just how Akira’s gray—no, all of Akira made him feel, like he could feel comfortable no matter the weather. “I-If I’m able to recall it well enough, I suppose I would.” He dropped his hands, and Akira remained for a moment longer before letting go.
He felt like the if was just a formality. With Akira so close, there was no way he’d be able to forget this moment.
“Hey,” Akira said as they approached Leblanc. “I don’t have to go home right away. It’s still light out, y’know? Let’s take a lap.” Yusuke felt Akira’s fingers grasp at his own. He glanced down, watching them tangle together, and when he looked up again, he was met with Akira’s flushed face. “Is this okay?”
Yusuke nodded, wordless as Akira led him past the cafe. They started a slow circle—or a square, rather—as the sun continued its lazy descent. The probably wouldn’t meet Leblanc again until dark, but if Akira thought it was a good idea, then it had to be. Yusuke wouldn’t worry. He didn’t find himself having to worry about much with Akira around, and he wasn’t sure if it was because the boy was so rational or because his calm attitude was contagious.
“I know I said that I didn’t really wanna attract any attention. By doing stuff like this in public.” Akira squeezed Yusuke’s hand. “But it’s pretty quiet today. Are you sure it’s okay?”
“I wouldn’t have said it was if it wasn’t,” Yusuke said. “If anyone tries to cause a stir, we can just ignore them.”
“Well, I guess that’d be easy for you.” Akira laughed, beautiful bouts of gray blossoming in Yusuke’s mind. “I’ll just go like, ‘Hey! Give me your full name!’ and we’ll find them in Mementos later.”
“Because they will most certainly comply with that request,” Yusuke said flatly. “Besides, we shouldn’t—”
“I was just kidding.” Akira smiled at Yusuke. “I’m sure we’ll be okay.”
It was enough to soothe Yusuke for the rest of the walk. Akira was right; they were okay. People stared, of course, but everyone seemed to be too caught up in their own heads to actually say anything. And Yusuke could deal with stares. He was a habitual starer himself; it’d be a bit hypocritical if he weren’t able to handle the stares of other people. He was certain Akira felt the same. Akira must have dealt with stares throughout the school year, being a “delinquent” and whatnot.
Yusuke was reluctant to let go once they looped back around to Leblanc, but the sky was completely purple, and only the streetlamps lit the path. He didn’t want Akira to get in any trouble. But he also suspected that Sojiro didn’t care all too much about when Akira got back, as long as it was before closing time.
“Thanks for today. Do you need money for the train fare?”
Yusuke actually had to think about it for a moment. “No,” he decided, figuring he’d rather forgo breakfast tomorrow than accept Akira’s charity. He would be okay.
“Okay. Get home safe.” Akira stood on his toes again, pressing a kiss to Yusuke’s cheek. “Goodnight.”
Yusuke grabbed Akira’s hand as he moved to enter the cafe, stopping him momentarily. “Goodnight. I’ll message you when I get back.”
“Perfect.”
He let go, and the door shut. Yusuke faintly heard the bell jingle. He waited a moment before he started towards the train station.
He really didn’t know how his heart could feel so full without bursting.
.wine.
Yusuke could barely pay attention at first. He just let the colors swirl through the back of his mind as the rest of the group began explaining what was going on to Sojiro and Sae. It was really hard to focus on the rest of the conversation when all he could really think about was Akira’s labored breathing next to him. It had been a day since he faked his death, but nobody really bought it when Akira said he felt fine. There was no way. Absolutely no way.
But they were on a time crunch, and strategizing couldn’t hurt.
Yusuke’s attention was only grabbed when everyone was looking at him expectantly. He began to ask what the question was when Akira stirred, and Yusuke felt like an utter fool for thinking that they would be asking something of anyone but Akira.
“I…” He sagged a little, arm flush against Yusuke’s. “It’s hard to remember.”
Yusuke could feel it, feel how everyone was on the verge of wanting to get up and do something but having nothing to do quite yet. He felt that way, too. But… somehow, he felt a little less inclined to spring into action than the others did. Perhaps because, while Akira’s voice was small, his gray was as strong as ever. There was no way Akira was giving up yet.
Yusuke paid attention as the meeting progressed, but much of his focus still remained on Akira. How he could hardly remember anything. How more and more of his weight leaned against Yusuke the longer they talked. How the gray came in small bursts of pain whenever Yusuke even moved an inch.
They had a great battle ahead of them, and Yusuke was determined to win. Even if he had to do it all by himself.
.sapphire.
Yusuke really just couldn’t help it.
He was picking up his phone and dialing Akira’s number before he could stop himself. His eyes burned as they usually did late at night with only one light illuminating his canvas (and nothing else, really), and his fingers were going numb, but he needed to finish this piece as soon as possible. It was better to have someone to talk to.
“You’re still awake?” Akira asked upon picking up. “‘S late.”
“I could say the same to you,” Yusuke said. He held the phone between his cheek and his shoulder as he wearily picked his palette back up. It’d gotten better as he’d gotten used to it—painting with colors other than gray with Akira’s voice in his head, that is. “You’ve probably already assumed correctly that I’m up late with art. But what about you?”
“Homework. I’ve had a lot lately.” A hundred miles away, Akira stifled a yawn and failed. “So, what’s on your mind?”
“I wanted to hear your voice,” Yusuke said truthfully. He was quiet for a moment as he delicately added a few more strokes of bright red to his piece. He heard Akira yawn again. “However, I believe that I should set aside my selfishness for now. You should rest.”
“It’s not selfish to miss me. I miss you, too.” The words sent flutters to Yusuke’s chest. “I still have a lot to do, anyway. We can talk.”
A few more moments of silence. Akira had, thankfully, seemed to grow used to it. He wasn’t the type to panic over sudden silences on Yusuke’s end, which was incredible because it was terribly difficult to work on something so delicate it requires silence when someone is asking you if you’re okay over and over again.
“How was your day?” Yusuke asked, finally finishing up the carnation he was painting. He picked at a bit of paint under his nail. “Aside from the copious amounts of homework.”
“Long. Very long.” Akira sighed. Yusuke heard him shuffling around, either getting out something new to work on or giving up entirely and laying his head on the desk. Akira was a hard worker, so Yusuke would like to assume the former, but it was also two in the morning, so Yusuke was probably more correct in assuming the latter. “I went to school early to tutor this second-year in math, but he didn’t show. That was a little disappointing.”
Yusuke clicked his tongue. “Second-years truly have no commitment sometimes.”
“Right? I felt like going, ‘I did all of my work when I was a second year, and I was a Phantom Thief!’ But I don’t think we were very popular over here. So after that, I had my actual classes. It’s like all of my teachers don’t realize I have other classes to do homework for. I mean, it’s not hard. It’s just a lot.” Akira sighed again. “I miss you.”
Yusuke nearly dropped his brush. He… He said it again. It made the gray feel unbearable, and Yusuke set his brush in his mug. “I wish we could see each other more often. It is rather… difficult, sometimes, having to settle for only talking on the phone when all I want to do is see you. To listen to you in person. Every breath, every word.”
Yusuke held his breath. It didn’t matter how often Akira reassured him; he still felt like he was always coming on too strong.
“I—Wow.” Akira laughed a little, and Yusuke could imagine his face. He could see Akira clearly, lit up by his desk lamp, covering his face with his hands while his phone sat on the desk, on speakerphone next to an abandoned worksheet. A blush creeping up his neck, tickling his ears. “Do I sound different? Like this? Am I still gray?”
“You are always gray.” Yusuke glanced at his own abandoned work. He leaned back in his chair, giving his hunched back a break. He held his hands out in front of him, carefully practicing the wrist stretches Akira taught him while trying not to drop his phone. “The deepest, richest gray anyone could imagine. The type of gray that could warm you up in one touch and cool you down in the same. Perhaps the best hue out there.” He paused. “Certainly my favorite.”
“You are. You.” Akira was slurring a little bit now. Oh, his head was definitely on the desk. “You’re so wonderful.”
Now it was Yusuke’s turn to feel that blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Akira, go to sleep.”
Akira hummed. “Only if you do.”
Yusuke swirled his brush around in the water, then pulled it out to tap it on the rim. He supposed it would be a good stopping point. He still had a few days before it was due, and he was fairly ahead of the rest of the class anyway. Yusuke was half-convinced it was a fake assignment his teacher made up to keep him busy while everyone else was finishing the real assignment. “I will.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Yusuke heard Akira squeak as he, presumably, stood up and stretched. “Better keep it.” He yawned, and made no attempt to stifle it this time. “Take care of yourself, okay? G’night.”
“Goodnight, Akira. I love you.”
“Love you, too.” He heard the smile in Akira’s voice, and every worry melted away. “Sweet dreams. Bye bye.”
Click .
That night, Yusuke dreamt of gray.