0010-Re:Defining Justice

By Chronic Guardian

Written for Twelve Shots of Summer: Hexa-Code Kernel, Week 2: Define(Crime and Punishment)

A child. They have sent a child to interrogate him. Yes, they call it an interview, and yes, he can't actually do anything at this point, but the mere fact that they're trusting Kamoshida Suguru around a child is darkly amusing.

The six-inch security glass between them and observing security guards probably help.

More to the point, though, this isn't a Shujin student. He is still in highschool, a pretty boy with chin length chestnut hair and a disarming smile, but he seems to be doing his best to pretend he belongs in the adult world instead. He dresses the part, very professional with a neutral peacoat and dark gloves, but there's still a sliver of vulnerability hiding under his self-confident air.

Kamoshida has seen the type. They take a little longer to break, but if you know what they want and how to pretend you can give it to them they show their true colors soon enough.

Even though the room is a comfortable eighty something degrees, Kamoshida shivers. The kid is probably the only underage member in the investigations department. It almost makes him think they're bluffing, but if they are it's only a notch more subtle than hiring a cafe maid and feeding her the interrogation lines through an ear mic. Either they really do trust him to know his stuff, or he requested the case and they gave it to him as an educational opportunity.

Either way, Kamoshida doesn't like it.

Matching eyes, the kid slips on a smile they both know is fake and gives a slight bow. The gesture must be a formality. That, or its meant to get on Kamoshida's good side. Unfortunately for the kid, he's about two months late for the suck-up act.

"Mr. Kamoshida?"

"Just Kamoshida," he returns without flourish, still staring. He doesn't need respect at this point, it's all just pity dressed up as humanitarianism. He knows what he did, and he knows he deserves what he's getting now. Hell, he deserves worse. But somehow the Phantom Thieves knew none of that would be enough. No amount of punishment can match the torture of an awakened conscience without hope of redemption.

Even without that hope, though, he sticks around. It won't be enough to completely reverse anything he's done, but somehow, someday, he'll find something to heal the wrongs he wrought.

Across from, him, the kid nods and keeps his smile on. It looks even more hollow now. Maybe the kid is just a mouthpiece after all…

"Not much for conversation, I see… I'll get right to the point then. My name is Akechi Goro, junior detective."

Kamoshida squints. Junior detective… somehow that rings familiar. He vaguely remembers seeing him on TV now, but only from commercials and usually when completely plastered on cheap sake. Hopefully he's enjoying his little bubble of celebrity while it lasts. The best thing Kamoshida can wish him is a more graceful fall from the spotlight than his own.

"Would you like to help me bring justice to this world?" Akechi goes on in that same light tone, like a robot failing to grasp the irony of its programmed lines.

A sarcastic laugh slips out of Kamoshida's mouth before he can stop himself. "Justice?"

"Yes, justice against—"

"You can't be serious."

"...Oh?"

"I've already confessed my crimes and named my victims," Kamoshida sighs, showing the detective empty hands. "Anything you need to bring justice is already in your records."

"Well… not quite everything," Akechi taps his chin and smiles. "There's still something about the case that bothers me."

That garners a flat look. "If you can narrow it down to one thing, you must be awfully particular about what bothers you."

Akechi chuckles and Kamoshida can't help but grimace. There's nothing funny about what he's done.

"You could say that," the junior detective agrees, so at least he's honest about his lack of empathy. "But then, I've never been good with loose ends. You could call it more of a precaution, I suppose. You see, I've been wondering about the circumstances surrounding your confession."

Kamoshida pauses. He means the Phantom Thieves. He means that transfer kid who came in out of nowhere and turned the world upside down. He means Kurusu Akira.

And for one second, Kamoshida entertains the thought of telling Akechi everything and making Kurusu's life a living hell.

Sure, Sakamoto has something to do with it, they've been at odds since day one. Maybe even Takamaki and Mishima have a hand in the calling card that eventually showed up on his desk. But none of them had really done anything until the delinquent transfer showed up. Kurusu is the ringleader, he can feel it. He is the element of change, and as such, he is the one authorities should really look out for.

Because he is the one who can expose their injustice.

That won't fly in the world Kamoshida knew. Soon, the police will scramble, warrants will be fabricated, and just like that the frightful possibility of somebody upending the status quo will disappear. When someone like Kamoshida comes forward and puts their shame in the spotlight then something has to be done. But before then? No. So long as the evil goes unseen and unheard, the public is willing to believe nothing is wrong.

Protecting that peace—that ignorance—is the justice of people like Akechi and Kamoshida. Because in their world, it is more important to silence dissent than it is to stop evil, and people like Kurusu become the enemy.

But Kamoshida doesn't want to live in that world anymore.

"I guess it just… got to much for me," he says. His chest immediately lightens, but he tries not to show it too much. He won't give up the Phantom Thieves. Not even Sakamoto. They didn't ruin his life, they only woke him up to what he was doing. They showed him justice.

Akechi studies him with a light smile and Kamoshida can tell he isn't buying it. Well, so be it. The older man swallows and prepares to be more than a miserable bully. He hasn't had anytime to prepare, and he'll probably end up contradicting himself, but if he can at least keep Akechi from hunting down Kurusu, then that will be good enough.

"It seems odd that you'd suddenly have a prick of conscience after getting your way for so long," the detective continues. His voice is such a perfectly pleasant neutral that it's hard to pick out the humanity in it. "Blackmail seems unlikely, unless you've been doing something even worse than the crimes you confessed, but I somehow doubt it. At the same time, I'm cynical of a completely internal revival. Have you had any contact with family recently?"

Kamoshida starts to shake his head, then stops. Should he rule that out? He hasn't spoken with his parents in years, and if the police go after them with questions then any story he makes up here will fall to pieces. But he knows where this is going, and he'll be damned if he tells this little robo-cop about the kids who changed him. Even if Akechi is a child himself, his position in the system seems to say he's already neck-deep in the mire.

"Ah, not family," Akechi nods and produces a notebook from his coat's inside breast pocket "Friends then?"

Friends? Kamoshida ponders the option. It's not much, but it's a chance.

"Kind of," he murmurs, sucking in his lips a moment as he formulates the plan. "There was… a bar I'd go to after work. Sometimes I'd brag about the special treatment I was getting from the school. Thought I was hot stuff, untouchable. Anything I wanted, anyone, all I had to do was take it. Eventually, one of the guys there said something, though, and it got me thinking."

"Oh, is that how it happened?"

Kamoshida pauses. It's obviously a challenge, but he's not sure what kind of consequences are backing it up. Technically, Akechi works for the police, so they might be able to accuse him of some obstruction of justice BS once they finds out the info's fake, but that's assuming the interview is being treated like an official statement. It could be just as easily be a bluff. After all, who would ever trust a child with something like this?

Not like they trusted any of the kids at Shujin, even after the girl who jumped.

The thought twists in Kamoshida's gut and part of him wants to drop the facade just out of penance. He wants to believe Akechi isn't up to anything, that he's just another kid being manipulated by corrupt adults, but that only makes it all the more important that he sticks to the story, even if it ends up destroying him.

That's fine, though. Either way, Kamoshida has nothing to lose. What's the worst they can do? Double his sentence? There's no way he can put his life back together after what he's done. In fact, the longer he stays out of the public eye the better. Might as well make the scraps left to him worth something.

"Funny," Akechi muses, leaning his chin into his palm. "I wonder why your 'friend' didn't call the police himself."

"You wonder?" Kamoshida gives an incredulous look as the kid slips a few pegs in his estimation. "Do you know why I'm here, Akechi?"

If the question bothers the detective, he doesn't show it. Hell, it's hard to tell if anything makes it past those reddish brown eyes. They're not bright or dull, just… watching. Calmly observing like a machine gathering data, softly smiling even in the face of human disaster incarnate.

"Yes, you're here because you broke the law," Akechi says with the same sort of voice Kamoshida would expect out of a kindergarten teacher discussing the syllabary. "And after you serve your punishment, you will be allowed to retake your place in society. Justice will be served."

"I'm here because I insisted I was wrong," Kamoshida grits out, curling a fist against his chest. "They wanted to think I was crazy, even though they all knew what was happening. Even with everything as bad as it was, nobody wanted to actually face the reality of the bastard they'd all been protecting. Society doesn't give a damn about your justice, so when a criminal like me finally gives up on hiding we have to fight the whole world just to have them punish us. If that's the price of justice, then someone else shouldn't have to pay it."

Something flickers in Akechi's eyes, but his face doesn't so much as twitch so Kamoshida can't tell if it's recognition or annoyance. Whatever it is, it's gone in an instant and Akechi goes straight back to probing.

"I apologize if I'm fingering a sore spot," Akechi says evenly, "but what if I told you you were manipulated into feeling this way? There was another case similar to yours recently, another respected individual with certain enemies unhappy about their success."

Success. Kamoshida's so stunned he can't even formulate a reply. Has the kid been listening at all?

Still, the detective goes on. "Both investigations revealed calling cards from a group calling themselves the Phantom Thieves of Heart. Cross referencing the two samples highly suggests a different artist, but the declaration is too similar to be a coincidence. More interesting still is that your symptoms were virtually identical to the other victim's."

"I-I am not a victim!" Kamoshida shouts, slamming his hands on the counter. He can hear the guard behind him shifting, but he doesn't care. Allowing such a ludicrous "Stop this! Stop chasing after this false justice! Perpetuating this system will only—"

He's cut off as the guard behind him grabs a wrist and pulls him back into his chair.

Akechi puts on a surprised expression that's about as authentic as Kamoshida's innocence and addresses the guard in practiced outrage.

"Unhand him!"

It works. The guard lets go and Kamoshida jerks forward onto his elbows as the counter digs into his ribs. He gasps for air and they all give him space as he recovers his composure, like trappers regarding a snared animal.

The thing is, he can't even feel offended at that kind of treatment any more.

"Apologies about that, Mr. Kamoshida. Are you—?"

"Akechi..." he groans, holding his side. "Why… why are you doing this?"

"You mean why try to appeal to you?" Akechi quirks an eyebrow. "Now that you put it like that, I suppose we can agree the strategy is proving pretty pointless. I'm more used to people who bargain for themselves; now I can see you're more of an altruist. In that respect, I suppose I shouldn't have underestimated your ability to be rehabilitated."

Kamoshida grunts and draws himself back. "Sorry to disappoint."

"So you won't help me find the Phantom Thieves, then?"

"You want justice?"

"Well, yes," the detective puts on a sheepish smile. "That's why I'm trying to stop those outside the law."

"Leave them alone," Kamoshida says flatly. "A law that protects people like me and punishes people like them isn't justice. You're better off examining your own heart."

"...I see."

Akechi straightens his tie, rises from his seat, and bows. The vulnerability Kamoshida saw earlier has hardened to a cold acceptance. If there was a chance at changing his mind, it's long gone now.

He keeps a straight face, but inside Kamoshida wonders if he made the right decision. Maybe he's just made another mess for Kurusu to clean up. Maybe all he's managed to do is further provoke the authorities by favoring the Phantom Thieves over them.

As he watches Akechi go and the guard comes to lead him back to his cell, the doubts tumble and multiply, but through it all he holds to one thing: if only for a moment, he stood up for everyone he tortured for so long.

It's not much, but it still feels like justice.

~{End}~

Author's Notes:

Writing fan fiction for a fandom you haven't finished the canon for? Yeah, probably not my best move. But until I scrape together the time and fortitude to finish off that casino, I'll just accept that all my speculations could be totally false and the thing that shows up at the end of the space ship could just coincidentally look like Crow.

...But seriously, I have doubts about Akechi.

One of my biggest problems with Persona 5 is how it handles changes of heart and the public reaction to them. Although the protagonists occasionally ho and hum about whether or not what they're doing is right, their targets are so obviously twisted (and, in fact, only targetable because they are twisted) that the only serious criticisms against their operations and methodology were based in ignorance. Literally no one is harmed in the operations claimed by the Phantom Thieves, and since they distinctly declare their targets with calling cards and have not only an established M.O. for choosing targets but also a total lack of casualties on record pre-Okumura, it's unreasonable to associate them with the mental shut-downs before that point—especially considering "victims" of the Phantom Thieves consistently gain more self-awareness rather than less.

Needless to say, Akechi's whole crusade against the Phantom Thieves on the grounds that they were serving "vigilante justice" struck me as completely absurd and not a great look for a character who is supposed to be above-average intelligent. The Phantom Thieves are not only serving justice, but the only thing they are stealing is the desire for evil. Any fallout surrounding that action is purely of the "victim's" making. However, rather than treating this oddity as an oversight, I'd like to believe this is all motivated by a deeper, unsaid agenda.

Also, although I don't totally I buy the "take away an evil desire and humans will be good" philosophy tied in with the whole "steal your heart" mechanic of P5, it seemed odd to me that the game didn't then give a redemption arc to any of the people the Phantom Thieves brought down (with the notable exception of the target after the bank). Yes, there is healing and hope for the victims, but it feels a tad ironic that the protagonist's velvet room themes itself around punitive reform when we don't get to see the rehabilitation of anyone doing any actual wrong.

All that to say, I guess you can put me down as the sick weirdo who wants to see a contrite Kamoshida actually have a semi-heroic moment where he makes good on continuing to live after his confession. Sue me.

Anyway, since you're reading a Persona story, you're clearly an edgy phanboy on the hypetrain to rebellion. Assuming such, you should take my totally establishment based advice and not check out the Twelve Shots of Summer community for more stories, more authors, and way more good times not to be had. Wouldn't want you spreading those wings of rebellion and awakening your reading persona, after all...

Reversing you psychology,

-CG

(14-JUN-2019)