"UnGrown Up"

"Damn it!" She muttered.

It was raining. Umbrellas were held above the heads of the speed walking people of Yongen. A few people bumped into her and her one nice designer handbag as she exited the train station and crossed the street. The gray sky of the late spring would normally put her off, especially with the LSAT coming up - but she convinced herself she needed to go. It had been a very long time since she had been to that neighborhood; to that cafe; face to face with him.

Leblanc maintained its appearance, after all those years. Makoto stood in front of the cafe looking in. It was empty - as always - and she wondered if she was too early. She stood beneath the awning and closed the umbrella. Her hair stuck to the side of her face, and she considered cutting her shoulder blade length hair back to the length she wore it in high school. She dug into her overpriced designer handbag and searched for her phone. Unable to find it, she began to panic. Suppose Sae called? The one day she decided to leave her apartment and she'd probably miss an important phone call. The call that would change her family - for the better.

Sae was very pregnant. The older Niijima sister gave up on marrying someone and decided that wouldn't stop her from being a mother. Yes, it would be hard, but she was a hard working woman, and Makoto was always there by her sister's side. Though Sae struggled with getting pregnant, it finally happened, before Makoto knew it, her sister was very close to her due date. Stopping by Leblanc to see everyone after so much time had passed wasn't a bad idea, but she worried about Sae.

Until she saw him. Makoto finally found her phone, and as she pulled it out to call Futuba, to ask how close she was to the cafe - there - he stood. "Hey." She said with a weak smile.

"Hey," Akira said back. Even after all those years, he remained unchanged, like Leblanc. Well, not too unchanged. His hair was a bit shorter but framed his face well. His onyx eyes were still wide, and very dominate on his face; a very 'un-Japanese' trait only he had. He never needed those glasses, but grew so accustomed to wearing them, he found he needed them after a while. Reading small print without them became a hassle for him, or so Haru told her, the last time they talked.

Right. He was dating Haru.

Their relationship was pretty recent and shocked their circle of friends. But no one said anything when they announced it; when he moved into Haru's highrise apartment; when they appeared as a couple at gatherings. Today, they were gathering for another announcement. A big one. Ann emphasized on its importance and insisted they all had to get together. She had news she was dying to share. That, and she missed everyone a great deal after moving to New York almost five years ago.

Five years, ten years - Phantom Thieves, no Phantom Thieves. Time was time; friendships - true friendships - lasted no matter the length of time, or so Makoto hoped.

Akira knocked the door. With no answer from the inside, he turned the knob. The cafe was left open. It was strange, as it was closed for the day - for their gathering - and Futaba didn't usually leave the door open. Not that Akira needed to check the door for being locked. He still had a key, as the store manager and former resident. With his return to Tokyo, he resumed life in the attic of Leblanc - to the liking of Sojiro and Futaba. Time blazed by and before anyone noticed it, he and Futaba were both college grads, then grad students. Kurusu Akira had a regular nine to five. After two years with the firm, he quit once Sojiro asked for him to take over Leblanc. He was glad to, finding work dull. Futaba worked on getting her Ph.D. in computer science and received recognition as the youngest Head of Research at her university.

They were grown up.

Makoto placed her wet umbrella in the bin by the door, and then made herself comfortable in the middle booth. She kept her trench coat on, as the cafe wasn't exactly warm. Akira sat across from her, checking his phone. Their eyes did not meet. Instead Makoto looked around the cafe - the space that seemed stuck in time. Ten years earlier they all sat in commemoration of the of Phantom Thieves post- Akira's return; the end to the thing that gave them all new beginnings. After surveying the room, Makoto's eyes landed on Akira once more. He was more or less as timeless as the place they sat.

"Are you texting, Haru?" She asked. She could hear the timidness in her voice when speaking to him.

"Yeah - she doesn't think she can get away from the office. They had a problem at their last board meeting and she's trying to do some damage control," He answered without looking up. Makoto pouted and looked away. Akira looked up from his mobile device and noted her solemn expression. He placed the phone into his pocket and ran his fingers through his hair, "I've been so rude. How are you, Makoto?" He asked.

Makoto looked at Akira as he held a strand of his dark locks in between his index finger and thumb. He looked as youthful as he did when they were teenagers. She felt her cheeks burn as her old feelings rushed in. She could never tell him how much she admired him; longed to be like him; how she loved him. Even a decade later and she could not imagine uttering the words. In the back of her mind, she prayed someone else from their group would show up soon. The queer silence between them ate her up.

A slender male with short cropped russet hair stood outside Leblanc. Though he said nothing, there was clearly another person on the other line who shouted into the phone. Her words were unclear but her yells were very audible. Ryuji's argument seemed to go nowhere and he wore disappointment on his face. He was defeated. He was soaking wet, having left his apartment that morning without an umbrella. By the time he left the gym, it was pouring and not much could be done. Soaked to the bone, his phone rang just as he was about to enter the cafe. His girlfriend, Lana, called. She was less than pleased that he was going to meet his old friends, without her. He never introduced her to the important people in his life, though they had been dating for six months already.

"Babe," Ryuji began. He said it carefully and she stopped her verbal attack. "next time. Okay? I promise. I'll call you when I get home. Later." Ryuji ended the call from his phone and as he touched the doorknob of Leblanc, he heard a familiar voice.

"Trouble in paradise?" A hooded figure inquired. As he removed his hood, Yusuke walked over to Ryuji with a small smile on his pale face. His moonlight complexion seemed to stand out on the exceptionally rainy day. His dark hair had grown long and he wore it in a neat ponytail; a few strands hung over his forehead.

"Mind your business," Ryuji muttered. He opened the door to Leblanc and Yusuke followed. Both men entered the cafe and Akira turned to look upon hearing the squish of Ryuji's wet feet in his sneakers. Akira smirked and pushed up his frames with his index finger. "Don't say shit." Ryuji glared at his close friend as he tried his best to get comfortable at the bar. Yusuke sat beside Makoto and looked to Akira with a smile. Both men were grinning.

Makoto held her hand over mouth, hiding her laughter. Ryuji sighed deeply. He then sneezed and Akira took that as the cue to get some tea prepared. "I do have some extra clothes in the attic. They're probably a little musty, but at least they're dry." Ryuji hopped off the barstool and headed up to the attic. Makoto and Yusuke spoke amongst themselves, catching up. Yusuke had an art show the month before, in New York City. He was glad to be home after his few months aboard.

"You saw Ann when you were in Brooklyn, right? Do you know what her announcement could possibly be about?" Makoto inquired. By this time, Akira already served her and Yusuke tea and prepared other things for everyone else to eat upon their arrival.

"No. I haven't the faintest idea. She stopped by the gallery on the last day of my show and we had dinner and drinks at her apartment after, but I didn't hear anything out of the ordinary," Yusuke sipped his tea and Makoto picked up her own cup. Her eyes made it over to see Akira at the counter continuing preparation. Yusuke noticed her gaze at the corner of his eye and touched her shoulder, ending her trance. "I'm glad we're all here though. It's nice to see each other every once in awhile." Makoto looked up to Yusuke and noted his warm smile. She knew he knew how she felt. She was grateful to him for never saying a word.

Ryuji pulled off his shirt and rubbed the back of his neck. He sat on the old sofa and began checking his phone. There were many text messages from Lana. The first few scolded him for always leaving her out of his life. Her last message - the one she sent before she called - said 'let's break up'. Ryuji responded with 'okay', and that lead to her heated response. As much as he liked Lana - and as good as she was to him - Ryuji didn't have the heart to tell her he didn't love her; that he was wrong to tell her that he did; that it was a lie he told himself to try and get over things.

Things like Ann's postings on her social media account about her and new her photographer boyfriend. Why did it bother him that she was on the other side of the planet, dating and fucking some other guy, and he was in Shibuya; a trainer at a gym. He made decent money. He had fair living in the apartment above his mother's. Life wasn't too exciting, but he was stable. He a had a job he liked. He had his own apartment. He saw Akira, and Mishima every so often. He had a girlfriend…

Lana was a Capoeira instructor at the gym Ryuji worked. It was the first word he actually paid attention to once he stopped ogling her breasts and firm buttocks. He was impressed with her skill at the martial art and after he lost to her three times in arm wrestling, she told him he had to take her on a date. Their first date began at a vegan ramen spot and ended with a kiss before they parted ways at Central Street. They spent their days in the gym, during and off from work; trying out new healthy places Lana liked; and sex. Lots of sweaty loud sex at her place because his mother lived beneath his. He certainly liked Lana, but he didn't love her.

Completely lost in thought, Ryuji dropped his wet pants. He took no notice of Futaba who was wrapped in blankets on Akira's old mattress and as she adjusted her frames and shouted "Pervert!"

Ann stood outside Leblanc with a smile on her face. She studied the outside of the cafe, comparing it to her memory. It was the same. Five years, and it smelled the same; looked the same. It maintained the appearance it had in her memory. For that, she was grateful. She peered inside and saw her old friends talking and laughing among themselves. She tucked her hair behind her ear. She took a deep breath, stepped to the door and turned the knob of the place that she kept in her dreams and memories. It had been five years since she was last in Yogen. Five years since she was in that place - and five years since she had seen him.

"Hey, you're here already -" Akira paused. He expected Haru, as she texted him a bit ago saying she was on her way, but seeing Ann there - before him - after half a decade, logic and thought left him.

Makoto and Yusuke looked to the entrance and took note of Ann Takamaki with short dirty blonde hair, red colored lipstick, and an over the top designer dress and shoes. It seemed she fled from her photo shoot - taking no time to change her clothing. Makoto slowly turned her gaze from Ann to Akira, seeing in his countenance, something she couldn't describe.

"Hi guys," Ann said with a small smile. Her cheeks were flushed and tears welled in her eyes. Ryuji and Futaba walked down from the attic. Ryuji found he was stuck in place, unable to take the final step from the stairs. Futaba had already taken it upon herself to pull Ann in a warm embrace. "Futaba..." Ann said as the younger woman wrapped her arms around her.

"Welcome back," Futaba squeezed Ann and both women found themselves in tears before long. Yusuke arose from his spot in the booth and gave way for Makoto. The younger Niijima sister made her way out of the corner seat and walked over to her friend. "Get in here," Futaba said and pulled Makoto into a group hug. The three women held each other, sobbing - knowing and not knowing the moment they shared would be a time they longed for again.

"We're so happy to see you, but why are we crying?" Makoto asked and stepped away, rubbing tears from her cheeks. "This is a joyous occasion." She smiled and looked over to the counter at Akira who stood with his hands in his pockets - reminding her of their days of youth.

"I - I'm getting married."

There was silence in the cafe. The only sounds were of white noise, that struggled to fill the dead atmosphere. Rain and it's gentle pitter patter; coffee cups touching saucers; slurping; gulping; the white noise of living could not compete with the tension that vacuumed normalcy out of the quaint Leblanc. Akira washed the dishes and the water ran. He wondered if Morgana would want him to bring back something...or if Haru would want curry for dinner. He wondered hard. He hoped anything else would come to his mind to distract him from Ann's engagement.

Ryuji sat at the counter, his back to everyone. He couldn't look Ann in the eye after the news. It was like time stopped. He felt as helpless as he did when his high school track team disbanded. He periodically looked to Akira, who seemed far more removed from the moment, then he wished to be.

"I'm sorry we're not more cheerful," Yusuke said. He touched Ann's hand across the table. Futaba sat beside her, typing away. She was researching the man Ann spoke of when she announced her engagement. She curious to know who he was, the kind of work he did and how they met. It didn't cross her mind to ask Ann.

"It's fine. I was shocked too - when he proposed."

"Well - how'd you meet?" Makoto asked. She sipped her coffee and waited for Ann's response.

"Michael ...well, he's a photographer. He does well for himself. We live in this pretty nice apartment in Brooklyn…"

"It is very lovely," Yusuke remarked. Ryuji turned around to glare at Yusuke, but his face softened when seeing Ann's smile.

"I'm really, really happy." Ann held her hands over her chest and closed her lids. Her long, exaggerated lashes were clearly false - part of elaborate makeup - but Ryuji found himself taken by her beauty like he always had been. The silence that lingered post her statement was broken; Akira dropped a dish, and it shattered on the floor. Ryuji looked over to see the man kneeling on the ground, gathering the shards. Akira didn't say anything about the small cut on his cheek, right beneath his eye. His oversized frames simply weren't large enough to protect his face or hide his discontent. Ryuji said nothing. Akira said nothing.

As evening crept up, the rain kept a steady downpour. Futaba retreated to the attic and fell asleep, wrapped in the same blankets of the old mattress that was once the resting place of their group's 'leader'. Makoto was the first to go, as she received a text from Sae, about not feeling well. Ryuji offered to walk her to the train station but never returned. Yusuke left after leaving Ann and Akira in the cafe. She sat at the counter. Her long, over embellished dress, touched the floor, though her seat was raised off the ground. Ann seemed like a runaway bride in her exaggerated dress; ruffled and billowy. She stared at the cup of coffee, made just the way she liked - the way she remembered.

"Congratulations," Akira said very simply. He did not leave his space behind the counter. He also didn't make eye contact with her. He was afraid to, though he wouldn't say so.

"Thank you."

"He sounds like a nice guy."

"He is."

"Can I see your ring?" Ann looked up at Akira. She blinked a few times; her lashes fluttered. She extended her left hand to him and he gently held it in his own. Akira pushed his frames over his eyes, leaving them to sit atop his head. He looked carefully at the large diamond. He stared at it long - perhaps with the hope that it would shatter like the dish from earlier. "It's lovely. It suits you."

"Don't lie. I hate it," She pulled her hand away and covered it with her other hand. "I'm lying. I love it."

"You don't love it?"

"He chose it."

"You hate it." Akira removed his frames from his head and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I hate the ring, but I love him, so I love the ring." Ann looked to Akira. Her cheeks burned red; her lipstick paled in comparison to its natural rosiness. She looked away as she found she stared at him too long. He blushed himself, unsure why.

"I'm happy for you," He lied. He lied, without knowing he did. He believed it was something to be said. Something friends say to each other when good things like marriage came up. He said 'I'm happy for you' to Yusuke when he had his first overseas art show. He said it to Ryuji when he became a certified personal trainer. He said it to Makoto when she texted him she was going to be an aunt; to Futaba at her first presentation at the university. He said it and meant it.

Why couldn't he mean it when he said it to Ann? He truly wanted her happiness. Perhaps - more than his own, though he'd never tell her - or anyone - he really and truly did.

Ann carefully made her way down from the bar stool. She abandoned her overpriced designer heels and approached Akira behind the counter; barefoot. "Don't," He exclaimed. "I didn't clean up all the broken - " and without his permission, she wrapped her arms him and pressed her cheek to his chest. At the moment, he lost the ability to move.

"Thank you." She said, muffled. She pressed her face into his chest and clenched the cotton fabric with long, dainty fingers. Akira placed his hands on her shoulders and Ann pulled away a bit to look up into his eyes. Though it was difficult, he forced a smile. She smiled back. She pressed her face to his chest again and Akira held her, tightly - as if afraid he'd lose her. "Thank you." She said again.

Haru stood outside Leblanc, cell phone held to her ear. The endless ring droning in her head. Though she called him multiple times, Akira never answered his phone. It rang into voice mail each time, but his phone remained in his pants pocket.