Type a message…
Easy enough, right? She spent a good majority of her lifetime typing, this wouldn't be any different. Futaba's fingers flicked over the keypad with practiced ease.
Hey, I wanna go to school tomorrow. Take me.
No. Too demanding. Delete, try again.
Hey, could you please take me to the school tomorrow, if that's possible?
No, again. It matched the layout of some sample texts online perfectly, but it just clashed too much with her personality. They would immediately think something was wrong. Maybe something more casual?
hey, can u take me to school w u tmrw?
No, no, no. She wanted people to respect her, so she wasn't going to resort to that level of informality. Typing was easy, so why was actually using words so hard?
Can I go to school with you tomorrow?
Futaba placed her phone on her desk and appraised her message. Not too formal, not too informal. She thought, anyways. It could be taken seriously, without causing anyone to worry. Hopefully.
Maybe she should write a couple more drafts just to be sure…
No, if she kept trying to rewrite it, she would never send it at all. But she needed to come off as casual and confident… it wasn't really a big deal, right? She was just going to sit in on a couple of high school classes. She already had the grand tour thanks to Akira, so it wasn't like it would be her first time visiting. Yeah, she had this!
Her phone screen turned off, leaving the small girl staring back at herself in the black mirror. Maybe she should skim that self-help book she made Sojiro buy her a couple weeks ago before actually going through with this… There was also a communication book on sale this week, but it only had a physical copy and she had already asked Sojiro to go out for her twice this week. She could go out herself, but she was still recovering from the last time. Being a part of society was really draining.
"GAH! Why is this so hard?! I message the group chat all the time! This is a boss, isn't it? The group chat's easier because they get scaled down when they're so many of them! That's the first rule of game design!"
That was a lie, Futaba knew, but she was too worried about social interaction to care about the accuracy of her monologues. While she loved games, and would rather be playing them right now than struggling with real-world problems, she was actually only moderately informed on the design that went into making games themselves. She just read articles when they showed up. Tearing a game's code apart and actually putting an entire game together from scratch, story and all, were two totally different things, and she could only do one of them blindfolded. She'd much rather just stay in her room and reference the games she played to herself (because, as she found out during her 'social training' with the Phantom Thieves, constantly referring to games in actual conversation was 'kind of weird.' She couldn't stop it completely, but she tried to limit it a little bit, at least. For the plebs).
"If I can go to Akihabara by myself, I can send this text! That's right, I've reached level thirty-six! I'm evolving as a person!"
In a flash of reckless abandon, she snatched up her phone and unlocked in a single motion. The send button stared back at her impartially, unperturbed by her newfound strength. This wasn't like when she contacted the Phantom Thieves initially; she wouldn't sit in her room for hours trying to figure out what she was going to do. They were her friends now!
So why was it so hard to send a simple request?
No. No more fighting with herself. This enemy may be tough, but she had the power to face it. In a fit of self-indulgence, she ripped her glasses off theatrically and met her foe head-on.
"Aaaaahhhh!"
With that final push forward, Futaba Sakura conquered yet another hurdle of her hero's journey. By the end of this, she wouldn't need Akira's help anymore! She'd show him that she could stand on her own two feet, and that she didn't need to be looked after. Than, maybe, he'd start seeing her as an equal, and not just a kid…
"Futaba? Is something wrong?"
Futaba's face blazed crimson as she realized her blunder: Sojiro did not open Leblanc until early afternoon on Saturdays.
"N-n-no! It's nothing!"
She heard him shuffle towards the bottom of the stairwell. 'Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it-'
After a moment of tension, she heard him sigh in exasperation and move on, leaving her to wallow in her own embarrassment. "Kids these days, always screaming about something… Why can't anyone just do anything quietly anymore?"
After a few more minutes, she heard the front door open and close, signalling her step-father's departure.
"Icantbelieveididthatwhilehewasstillhereohmygodthatssoemba-"
Futaba threw herself onto her bed and curled around one of her body pillows, quietly dying inside. She needed to soundproof her room. Badly. Sojiro didn't understand. He never understood that sometimes you just have to scream your feelings at no one in particular. That wasn't that weird, right?
She'd answer that question some other time. Today had already been mentally taxing to the max. After a brief channel, Futaba activated her coveted 'Midday Nap' skill, an ability she knew was desired by many other players he age. There were perks to not going to school, she thought, as she sunk into the land of dreams. Today, she would walk in a world of curry.
Delicious, delicious curry. Her dreams were spicy that afternoon.
In a high school an undisclosed distance from the snoozing redhead, Makoto Niijima's phone went off, alerting both herself and her fellow classmates that she had forgotten to turn the ringer off.
Futaba wanted to be like Makoto. No, not just like her; if the recovering shut-in had a final form, she wished it was half as cool as Queen. She was confident, smart, charming, and sociable, and that didn't even scratch the tip of the iceberg. She must have rolled max for every single stat during character creation. It was a little unfair, Futaba thought, but as long as she remained nice and helpful and didn't become arrogant, the girl would be glad to call the Student Council President her friend any day. Futaba would never say this to her face, but she wished Makoto was her sister. Then, maybe, she would have never fallen in on herself all that time ago…
No! No time for sad thoughts! Futaba smacked herself on the face to psych up, and (somewhat robotically) marched her way into Shujin. Student Council room, third floor, right next to the library. She could do that. The white school building stood over her, intimidating, but Palaces were even more intimidating, and she had been through those before. This would be nothing. Right?
"Student Council room, third floor, library…" she muttered to herself, anxiously avoiding the questioning gazes of the teenagers in the hall. She felt the claustrophobia creep up on her, but put her training to use and pushed it aside. Aside, not away. For some reason, her anxiety spiked when inside of a school, and it was much harder to fight back than usual. She wasn't dressed the part, but she didn't even have Shujin's uniform, so that could be excused. Maybe she should have worn something less colorful than her green coat and a graphic-tee, though… then she might have only been glanced at briefly instead of stared at by everyone. Her hands found each other behind her back, and she decided to focus on them instead of the people around her. Her thumbs fiddles, and her fingers interlaced and untwined and repeated. She just had to make it to Makoto, then everything would be fine.
"I've got this!" she said, realizing a second too late that she had said that out loud.
By the time she made it to the stairwell, she had it under something akin to control. She had conquered worse challenges in her (admittedly short) lifetime. These were just kids around her own age, right? Nothing to worry about. Except for their judgemental stares…
'Wow, she took a gap year before high school? So lame.'
'Look at how she's dressed! Is that text-speak on her shirt? What a nerd!'
"I'll spread your embarrassing pictures all over the net… " she mumbled to herself, striking back at imagined monsters. Schools were battlefields, and she was here to learn how to win from the final boss herself.
Luckily for her, Makoto was waiting at the top of the stairs like an angel from above, ready to provide Futaba with some shelter and comfort in this isolated world.
"Hey, Futaba! I'm glad you're here. How was the trip over?"
Futaba smirked and pushed up her glasses. "Nothing I couldn't handle with my current power level, of course."
Even though she new her 'gamer talk' went over Makoto's head, the third-year just smiled. "Good, I'm glad you didn't have any trouble. I was only able to get the teachers of my afternoon classes to let you sit in, so hopefully that will help you figure things out. I'll be with you the entire time, so if you ever start getting worried, just let me know and I'll take you somewhere else, okay?"
It shouldn't be possible for one person to be that kind. Other than Akira and Makoto, this level of pure goodness was beyond anything Futaba would never have guessed existed. But she couldn't go letting those two getting big heads by saying anything about it…
"Alright. Thank you!"
It was times like these when Futaba remembered that she was a genius. Even a third-year high school class made perfect sense to her. She wasn't at the level where she could skip straight to college, though, nor did she was to deal with the social pressure that came with skipping grades like that. No, that's not why she was going back to high school. She would become 'normal.' At least, normal enough to be accepted. And, whatever she did, she would not pull out the portable game system in her coat pocket. No matter how boring the class got.
She wouldn't do it.
Nope.
'If you take it out, people will start paying attention to the weird girl, then Makoto will get embarrassed.'
Problem solved.
After an arduous couple of hours, the bell rang with sweet freedom, and Makoto led her to the council room so she could watch the proceedings.
The council room itself was really boring, Futaba thought, but maybe that just came from the whole 'real life' thing. She perched herself on a chair in the corner, watching how she thought a bird of prey would watch something. If her Phantom Thief costume would have been a bit more bird-like, she would have gone with something cool like "Eagle" for her codename. Maybe if she could just get Makoto to trade masks with her.
'You are here to observe, so stop daydreaming and observe!'
The Oracle could focus. She could, and so she drew herself out of her mind and did. The council mainly discussed club funding, specifically regarding the reinstitution of the track team. Apparently, the allocating money to a club that didn't exist during the beginning of the year was difficult, especially considering they still had to find equipment for them. Makoto's vice-president led a renegade faction under the battle cry, "Let next year's council handle it!", but the Oracle's Queen would not be swayed. They locked in bloodless conflict, a war of words that inspired Futaba to consider writing a ballad of war.
She would have, if not for her total lack of musical experience. Maybe she should teach herself music theory…
In the end, the queen stood triumphant over her rebellious subject, a cool glare daring anyone to stand against her iron rule.
'God, I want to be her.'
The council dispersed, and Futaba finally released the tension she hadn't realized that she was holding.
"Being around people is stressful…" she whined, kicking her feet out under the table.
Makoto sighed, still caught up in the war. "I'm sorry about that. His position makes sense, since we are nearing graduation and all, but I… I don't want to slack off, even this close to the finish line. That's not fair to the student's we're supposed to be supporting."
"You really kicked his ass, though."
Makoto's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh no, did I? Was I really that harsh? I just thought we could do better, I didn't want to create more problems…"
Futaba snickered. "Oh, no, you're fine! I thought you were a real badass. Like a one-woman army, representing the power of the people!"
It took the third-year a moment to decide whether or not that was a good thing. "O-oh. I guess that's okay, then. As long as I'm doing my job well. Would you ever be interested in student council work, Futaba-chan?"
"Nope, never," she said with a smile.
"Well, at least you're confident... " Makoto seemed a little disappointed, but not surprised. They both knew her better than to assume she'd join a very people-intensive group. She was still recovering, after all.
Right as Makoto returned her focus to the documents in front of her, there was a knock on the door. Before the president even said "Come in," Akira had hesitantly slid the door open.
"Hey, Prez." It took him a moment to register Futaba (probably due to his 'dumb curly hair,' as she most eloquently called it), but his eyes only widened slightly. "Oh, hey, Futaba. What are you doing here?"
"Well, I just watched Our Royal Highness here rip her VP a new asshole-"
"Futaba!"
Said redhead snickered at her senpai's embarrassment. She blushed too easily, and making fun of her was too fun. Someone had to fill Joker's shoes when they weren't in the Metaverse, right?
The thought of Joker's teasing of Queen put a sour taste in the navigator's mouth, so she pushed those thoughts away. Besides, it's not like he was flirting with her. It was just part of the 'Joker' persona. He teased everyone like that when they were fighting shadows. It was all about keeping morale up! Right?
"Well, I'm glad she's keeping herself in form. Rowdy groups always need someone who's able to keep them in line, and she's pretty damned good at it."
…. Right?
Makoto smiled at the implied compliment, but there was a tint of color on her cheeks. Akira gazed at her with warmth, and his smiled matched hers. They both stopped what they were doing for the briefest of moments, acknowledging each other's existence.
…. Right?
Futaba would be the first to admit that she's a bit of an anxious person who reads into things too much, so it was always better to be careful. "What're you doing here, boss-man?"
"Nothing much. I'm going to be working at Leblanc later tonight, so I thought I'd do some rounds and say hi to everyone to kill time before going home," Akira said. He lowered his voice, but given how soft it was normally it probably wasn't a necessary precaution. "I needed to meet with Queen to work out some ideas for our next target, anyways."
'Privately.' He didn't say it, but Futaba heard the message loud and clear. Even though she knew it was bratty, since he didn't explicitly say 'privately,' she pretended just to not get it. The hacker remained at her perch, pulled her laptop out, and pretended to be busy doing important hacker things (trademark pending).
"Oh! Right!" Makoto scrambled, moving her council work aside in search of some other paper. She found what she was looking for: a few printed articles covered in blazing highlighter. "I've checked all of their names. They're viable. We'll need to convene with the others with a smaller list, though, so I wanted to run them through you first. You should have Morgana glance them over, as well. I'm assuming he's stretching out after being stuffed in your bag all day?"
"Yeah. I thought he would at least just want to hang around here, but maybe I'm not as fun to be around as I thought."
Something about the exchange made her feel off. She recognized a few of the names. Why didn't they ask her to hack in and check to see whether these people were really caught up in scandals or not? She had a list of potential targets stored in her laptop, too. Why didn't they ask her for her opinion? Did Akira not think it was important? Was that why he didn't want her there?
'No, Futaba,' she told herself, 'It's because Queen is second-in-command. There's more to it than just picking a single target. They need to go through, like, how they fit in the hierarchy, how famous they are, what the fallout would be. They like you. You're important. They will ask you to look into people once they have a better idea. They're just saving you work, right?'
The rationalization didn't help her feel any less alienated. She was just an observer for now, watching them talk and plan and joke with each other.
"What about the Burger Queen CEO?"
"Her Highness wants to go after fast-food royalty? Heh. Are you sure it's not just because you want to expand your empire?"
"I never really thought of myself as an imperialist queen…" Makoto shot back, with an accent fake enough to give Ann a run for her money. "I'm a fair monarch, and would never think of invading another country without proper cause."
Akira smiled lightly. "Regardless, we've already hit Okumura Foods." The mention of Okumura paused the conversation, but only briefly. The grey cloud dissipated before it could form. "We can have Haru see if these rumors hold any substance; he may have a Palace, but we need to be sure that he's the best target to hit right now. Besides, I feel like we need to venture outside of fast food for a little bit. If we get caught up trying to clean up one industry, we'll be there for months."
It was like she wasn't even there. Someone could just ask her what she thought, that was all. She could still contribute even if they didn't plan on her being there in the first place. She even already had her laptop sitting in her lap… that gave her an idea.
"The Burger Queen CEO has definitely been involved in some shady transactions. He has multiple overseas bank accounts, three of which are under fake names. One of them puts money into a fake account tied to the yakuza pretty often."
Akira and Makoto looked up at Futaba. She almost cursed at herself; she began talking without even waiting for their conversation to die down. But, now they knew she could help, right? She could be included in this discussion. She was right here, after all.
Makoto smiled lightly at her. "Thank you, Futaba. We will keep that in mind going forward."
Akira's cheeks twitched upwards and he nodded to her, but the message was clear: This was a conversation between the two of them. The 'adults.' Because she was just a kid. A socially inept shut-in. Even though she was only a year younger than Akira, and definitely smarter than both of them…
"I think I'm just gonna step out for a sec. I need some nourishment."
'Why am I so cringy?! This is why he doesn't respect you, Futaba!'
They both nodded at her as she left, but didn't really pay her much attention. As she slid the door shut behind her, the redhead realized that she had nowhere to go. At least the halls were less crowded now, she thought. The windows lining the school let her get a glance at the courtyard, and, more importantly, the vending machines. She couldn't go back without a snack after that, could she? And so, she had her next objective.
She took off at a brisk walking pace, her hands balled at her side rather than behind her. Maybe she could get the two of them some snacks too? At least if they were eating they wouldn't be talking to each other. She made it to the stairs, and each step she took had more and more force behind it. When her legs couldn't stomp any harder, she grit her teeth, and her brow furrowed in annoyance.
Futaba couldn't place what she was feeling. The alienation was only part of it; there was some resentment there, and pride, but she could only understand them separately. Together, they formed a muddled mess of feelings she didn't know how to deal with without isolating herself more. It was so frustrating, she thought. She knew she could contribute to the team in Mementos, but unless they wanted her to deus ex machina some hacking job, she really had no other purpose. They probably wouldn't care if she holed herself up in her room and only came out when they specifically asked her too. If they didn't need her to take down Medjed, would they have even bothered changing her heart?
'Gah, I need to yell at Inari or something. This is his fault, somehow.'
Of course, it wasn't, but Futaba didn't feel like dealing with her emotions anymore. She threw open the door to the courtyard and stalked over to the vending machines, quickly scanning the available food. Nothing in particular called out to her, but she just needed to grab something as an excuse anyways-
'Wait, where's my bag?'
"Oh, COME ON!" she screamed, kicking the vending machine with all the might her small body would allow. Apparently, that might was enough to hurt her food through her laced-up boots, and she hissed in pain. "Are you serious?!"
She did have her phone and the cables she would need to hack the machine, but was calm enough to realize that that would be a terrible idea. She would have to somehow loop the closed circuit camera watching over her, which meant she would have to find somewhere to plug her laptop in, which meant she would have to go back and get her laptop, and at that point it would be easier to just grab her money. So, instead, she let out a forced sight of defeat and slumped onto the olive-colored metal bench.
"I thought I heard something familiar… What's up, techie?"
Futaba opened her eyes to a familiar scruff of blonde-dyed hair and a blinding smile leaning over her. "O-oh. Hi, Ryuji. You heard that?"
"Yep. I didn't know we had a meeting called today…" Ryuji trailed off as he opened his phone, presumably checking the group chat. "Huh, it's been dead since yesterday. What're you doin' here, then? This ain't your normal haunt."
She pointed at the vending machine. "I hunger."
She could see the wheels spinning in his head as he tried to figure out how to ask the question in a way that got the answer that he was actually looking for. Obviously, she didn't come all they was to Shujin to buy food. There were other perfectly functional vending machines much closer to her place of residence. The hacker mentally berated herself for being difficult. She really tried not to be, but it was just how she was as a person.
"Mako-chan let me sit in on her classes today, but she and Akira are talking now so I came here." Ryuji raised an eyebrow, but seemed to shrug to himself. Futaba didn't even notice him grab his wallet, and even before he started talking he was making his way to the vending machine.
"Gotcha. Listen, I'm gonna buy you some food, then you're gonna tell me why the hell you'd come to school when you don't have to. That's some kinda masochism if I've ever seen it."
"With the way you ogle over Ann, I thought you'd be quite familiar with being an 'M.'"
"O-oi!"
"Your face is redder than her dominatrix outfit. You really want her whip, don't you?"
Futaba let a cheshire grin take over as the boy sputtered to defend himself. "S-shut up! I-i-it's just very… flattering. I mean, anyone would admit she's hot, right? I'm not into the whole-"
She let his silence fester, holding eye contact until he huffed and turned away. "It's not like that!"
"Uh-huh, yeah."
"Do you want food or not?"
And thus Futaba took her Snark skill off of auto-cast. "Yes, please."
Futaba had to give Ryuji props; When it came to emotional intelligence, he was probably a genius and didn't even know it. No wonder he was Akira's "best bro," she thought. Before she had even finished eating, he dragged her onto the train to Shibuya, took her down to Central Street's arcade, and loaded her up with play tokens. She hadn't even complained about anything regarding Akira and Makoto, but he just kind of knew something was up.
Or he was just an idiot and needed a partner for arcade gaming. She wasn't exactly an arcade person herself, but games were games, and she knew her games. She found the colors of the place a little off-putting, though. If she needed to come up for an excuse for some terrible loss, she would blame it on the flashing neon greens, yellows, and blues. Each game was bright and vibrant, covered with art and ready to blind her. Most importantly, people lined these colorful consoles, talking, laughing, and cursing as they beat or got beaten in this cutthroat world. Here, everyone could see your loss. But she was a gamer by nature; this was her world.
Or so she thought. General gaming was a completely different beast than these monster games. There were no normal controllers. Ryuji decided that they would start with Gun About, and aiming with an actually gun-shaped controller was a new experience. Before she knew it, she had been mercilessly crushed. Even after they switched to a generic PVE zombie shoot-em-up mode, he would still throw jabs at her play. He needed to be put in his place before he got too cocky. If this were on a PC, he would be so, so, SO dead.
"That's fucking bullshit! There's no way!"
Ryuji grinned from ear to ear, overflowing with pride. "This is my game. There's a reason the King of Akihabara doesn't come the Shibuya, and that's me!"
"Y-you've got to be cheating! You messed with the hitboxes!"
"Nah, you're just going up against the best of the best."
"LAG! I was lagging!"
"Whatever you want to believe."
She took back what she thought early about Ryuji Sakamoto being an emotionally-intelligent genius. He just wanted to play games and she happened to be there at the right time.
That didn't mean she wasn't enjoying herself,though. It wasn't often that she got stomped, and that really got her going. Her pride would not allow her to give up in the face of this pleb.
'If I ever think pleb out loud again, I hope someone cuts my tongue out.'
'Wait… think something out loud?' Futaba confused herself sometimes.
Embarrassment aside, she knew what she was going to do next. From across the way, an orange and yellow console grabbed her attention. A fighting game, with relatively normal controls.
"That one."
"The fighting game?"
"Yeah."
"Alright. I'll have you know, I'm pretty well-known as the fighting-game king around these parts."
"What's with arcades and kings? That's just stupid."
His pride was short-lived. After just a game of getting used to her character, Futaba dominated the delinquent brat. She wouldn't let him stop even if he wanted to, because this was her revenge. Luckily for her, he didn't want to. The control pad felt good in her hands, much more natural than the plastic gun from earlier. And if these frames worked like she thought they would...
"N-no way! That's not fair!
'Infinite combo.'
"Again! I'll kick your ass this time!"
"And you said you weren't an M…"
"S-shut up!"
It took five matches of utter defeat for Ryuji to give up. She was completely willing to wipe the floor with him indefinitely, but the stares coming from the other patrons turned her off to the idea. She didn't want attention.
"It's just an off day for me!" He growled, shoving his hands into his pockets and sauntering off.
"Of course it is. Now, because I am graceful in victory, I will allow you to pick the next game."
His smile made Futaba immediately regret her decision.
"The dancing game."
"Nope."
That was all Ryuji needed to hear to know that he won. "Hey, you said you'd let me pick."
"I take it back. I'm going home, bye."
There was no way. She would never, ever, EVER, play a game that involved dancing in front of other people.
He probably didn't expect her to actually walk out, but that's exactly what she did. Central Street was only moderately crowded, so she would be fine if she didn't have to wait at the station for too long. Some light clouds covered the sun, muting the colors around her. Compared to the neon extravaganza of the arcade, the dullness was a welcome source of relaxation. Now, she just had to figure out where she was going.
"Hey! Wait up!"
He… followed her? People usually didn't follow her when she left.
"Yo, sorry about that. We can play something else. Also… you doing okay?" Ryuji caught up to her, and for the first time she noticed that he had a slight limp. She had noticed the way he was looking at her throughout the day was off, but she finally placed it as 'concern.' Did she really look that bad? At least, she thought, her theory of him being emotionally aware seemed to be right.
"Y-yeah. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"
Ryuji hesitated. His lips were still pulling towards the smiling position, but that didn't seem to be on purpose. He was just a smiley person. "Well, I dunno, you seemed off earlier. You did kick a vending machine."
"True."
"Like, you don't need to tell me what's going on. But, like, Akira is really invested in how you're doing, and we're on the same team, so I guess it kinda spreads. Like osmosis or some shit." The boy grinned sheepishly and pulled out his phone. "The boss also sent me a few messages asking if I had seen you, so yeah. He seems worried. You may wanna check your phone."
She reached down into her jacket pocket, but froze. "Hey, Ryuji?"
"Sup?"
"Do Akira and Makoto like each other?"
A wide range of emotions crossed his face in a split second. He snorted out a laugh, but it was just short when is eyes widened in what could have been a realization, followed by a roll of the eyes indicating some sort of dismissal, before finally settling on a look of confusion.
"I don't have an effin' clue. They're a weird pair, and Akira is so fuckin smooth with everybody that I can't tell when he's actually tryna flirt with someone. He hasn't mentioned her to me in the lovey-dovey kinda sense, if that's what you're asking."
'That answer does nothing for me.'
She almost said that. Almost. She was too busy coming to terms with the fact that she was, in fact, jealous of the Queen she admired to much. It wasn't exactly a feeling she was used to. But like… she really liked both her and Akira. Akira in a different way, one that she hadn't quite thought through yet. She just didn't like them together. She felt like she did when she had to fight for her mother's attention way back when… alone, and wanting more. She just wanted respect.
Only respect.
That was it.
Respect.
Yeah.
Right?
Before she could finish doubting herself, a pair of fingers snapped right in front of her.
"Yo, Earth to Futaba? Morgana got your tongue?" Ryuji waved his hand in front of her face, close enough to cause her to wince.
"Sorry, I was thinking."
"I could see that. Hey, I'm supposed to meet up with Ann here in a few minutes, you wanna chill with us?"
Futaba checked her social battery. It was drained.
"I'll just head home. Thanks, though."
Ryuji smiled at her. "Alright, kid. Later!"
Kid.
Again with the 'kid.'
But she still smiled and waved, despite herself. It was only after his dash of blonde hair disappeared into the LSD-trip of an arcade that she checked her phone.
Twelve message, two missed calls, one voicemail.
Wow. None of the messages even came from the group chat. She scanned her fingerprint and opened her messages.
Two from Akira, ten from Makoto. Two missed calls from Makoto. One voicemail from Makoto.
Suddenly, a wave of guilt washed over the young girl. Makoto cared. She really cared. She could get caught up in the planning aspect, of course, but Futaba let her anxiety run with her and blind her to the truth of the matter. Makoto went out of her way to talk to all of her teachers because of her selfish request, and was able to work something out the day she asked her. If the Niijima sister was in a dating sim, Futaba would almost certainly label her 'Best Girl.'
No wonder Akira liked her…
No, Futaba, you have no evidence, this is just your nerves talking. Besides, who are you to care about that?
She quickly checked Akira's messages. He asked where she was, because Makoto mentioned being worried about her or something to him, then, apparently, Ryuji texted back, so he just told her to have fun.
Makoto, however, seemed a lot more stressed. Futaba poured over the worried texts as the people of Central Street moved around her, and her feelings of guilt doubled, tripled, even quadrupled.
"Hey, Akira and I are done talking. Where did you go?"
Simple enough.
"Futaba? Are you okay? If you got stressed being out by yourself, just tell me where you are and I'll come get you."
Screw a dating sim, what if she just dated Makoto for real?
"Did we do something wrong? You're usually really good at responding to texts, so I'm worried."
"Akira just texted me saying you're with Ryuji. He may be a bit stupid, but he's a good guy. You should have let me know, though, I could have brought you your stuff. Sorry if me worrying worried you. With us being who we are, I just like being careful. I'm glad nothing happened to you."
She was worried. Futaba made Makoto worry. It was a bittersweet feeling. The next couple of texts were the same thing; Makoto must have somehow figured out that Futaba was annoyed with them earlier. The Queen was too smart for her own good.
"I'm sorry that we did not include you more in our meeting. It was not a planned event, and I had decided that it was too early to do any serious research on any of them. We were looking for what type of person whose heart we would want to steal, rather than their crimes themselves. I was still annoyed from the council meeting, and did not know how to include you. We have a smaller list of names for you to look in to. Again, sorry. I didn't mean to blow you off."
"How the fuck did she figure that out…" Futaba muttered. The Queen's brain was terrifying. She decided to check the voicemail.
"Hey, Futaba… Listen, if you want, you could come over for dinner. I know you and Sis have some history, but she really wants to make amends and I want to make up for earlier today. So just… call me back when you get this, okay?"
Time with Makoto didn't sound that bad… and Sae had a decent redemption arc. Decent. Not great. But decent.
Futaba may have had a phone ever since Sojiro took her in from her bastard of an uncle, but this would be the first time that she called someone who wasn't him.
Makoto picked up on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"H-hi, Queen. Sorry."
"No, I'm sorry! You're at the arcade, right? Or around there? I'll take my sister's work car, we live right by the area."
"I can wal-"
"No. Go to the arcade and wait. I'll be right there."
Before Futaba could even agree, the line went dead. If she could summon her Necronomicon here, should could just fly over… she wouldn't even need the address, her Persona would just know. She did have her address, actually, but didn't commit it to memory. She ripped all of the Phantom Thieves' info when she took on the guise of Alibaba, but it was all on her laptop anyways.
"Hey, Mako-chan?"
"Yes, Futaba?"
"Why don't you have a motorcycle IRL?"
'WHY DID I SAY IRL OUT LOUD DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT-"
Makoto pursed her lips in thought. They were stuck in traffic, and the Prez's fingers were tapping on the steering wheel with a restrained impatience. "I don't know. I don't really want one, I guess."
"But like, wouldn't it be cool to just…. VROOOM!" Futaba gestured wildly to enhance the sound, earning a small chuckle from Makoto. The redhead swelled with inner pride.
"That's what Johanna is for. I don't really like driving in the city, anyways."
"Ehh? But don't you wanna be a policewoman? Don't you have to drive for that?"
A second thought paralled her speech: "Shit, I made her go out of her way for me and do something she doesn't enjoy doing I knew it I'm just a burden to all of them-"
"Yes, but I'd be doing it to help people, and that more than makes up for some annoying traffic, wouldn't you think?"
"That… makes sense." A brief silence washed over them, but Futaba made sure that it stayed 'brief.' "Hey, what're we having for dinner?"
"Well, I figured I would try to get you to expand your horizons beyond curry. Especially for a growing girl like yourself, I thought that bringing together something rich but healthy was the best way to go. Unfortunately, I haven't gone to the store in a couple of days, so it's not a perfectly planned meal, per say, but I have some of Haru's vegetable, along with some other leftovers, that I thought would go really well together in a stir fry."
"Ooooh, yum!"
Inside, Futaba was grimacing. She forgot that Makoto was a total health nut. She probably made her stir fry with water, too. The hacker just some sweet-and-salty goodness, with spice! Lots and lots of spice! But she was better than that. Besides, she told the group that she liked organic food way back when they were trying to make her more comfortable. She may have lied a little bit back then, organic was just the first word that came to mind… but that didn't matter! She was a respectable adult, not just a 'growing girl,' and she would eat what was put in front of her without complaint!
Which, to her surprise, was exactly what ended up happening. It didn't pack the same punch as Futaba was used to, but the stir fry was definitely a good one! She knew that she had to start eating healthier, but, she figured, as long as she wasn't just eating garbage ALL of the time, what could go wrong? Her metabolism seemed to be good enough to handle all the types of food she could ever want to try (which was a lot of different kinds of food).
'Good enough to keep any boobs off of me, too.' She didn't want to be Ann, that just seemed like a lot of shoulder pain, but maybe just a little something like Makoto? Anything?
If character creation were a thing in real life, she would have made herself much more attractive, rather than the walking plank she was now. It was probably from her dad's side, anyways…
She really wished she could just erase everything that reminded her of her father. The orange hair, the cheeks that would never lose their baby fat, her general lankiness... that could all just disappear. Every time she looked in the mirror, she was reminded that she took after him, and she had never even really MET him. She gathered all of that from pictures she found online.
The ambical silence that had formed between the two girls was broken by a buzz from Makoto's phone. The older, more refined girl glanced at the message. "Oh, Sis is nearly home… One moment, I'm going to go warm her plate up. Would you like to join me in the main room?"
Futaba pulled herself out from her thoughts, mentally gasping as she reached the surface. "O-oh, yes!"
She would have to see Sae again. That woman… she was mean to Sojiro, threatened him by using her. It wasn't right. But, after seeing the inside of her heart… it made some sort of twisted sense. Sae had apologized, and she meant it, but Futaba just couldn't get over it for some reason. She was just uncomfortable around the prosecutor.
"Hey," Makoto looked back at her as they walked down the hall, "Have you let the Chief know where you are? I'm a bit worn out from today and thought you could ask him if you could just spend the night here. The trains are going to stop running soon, anyways."
Futaba balked. "Y-you mean, like a s-s-sleepover?"
Makoto didn't even blink at her overreaction. "Yes, like a sleepover."
"I-I didn't bring any stuff for it, and don't really want to get in your way, it would just be more of a hassle…"
"Of course it wouldn't!" the younger Niijima sister smiled as she pulled a plate of stir fry from the microwave. She held her hand over it, gauging its warmth, and nodded lightly as it met her standards. "We have plenty of places for you to sleep, and Sis has travel-sized versions of any toiletry you could ever need! Besides, both of us seem to be people who would benefit from a bit more girl talk in our lives, don't you think?"
'Girl talk?'
"A-alright, but don't get mad at me if I snore!"
'As in, talking about boys, right? That's what the articles say.'
Akira popped into her head.
'What am I supposed to do if she asks about that? I don't know anything about love! Am I supposed to ask her, or does she ask me?'
'I don't want to know the answer.'
'Wait… love?'
"Is that what this feeling is?"
Makoto looked up as she set the plate down on the table. "What was that, Futaba-chan?"
"N-nothing! It was nothing! Nothing at all!"
There was a flash of… concern? Again? Why was everyone worrying about her today? She didn't need to be worried about. She was strong on her own. "If you don't want to talk about anything, that's fine, but just remember that I am here if you need me, okay? I know going back to school can be stressful, and that Akira and I should have been more inclusive of you today. But I am your friend, first and foremost."
'Semantics. Words. Words, words, words.'
No! Futaba pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. She was accepted, and she had friends, why couldn't she accept that herself?
"Thanks! Just needed the old social battery recharge, you know? People kinda suck."
That got a smile out of the Prez. "We've sure seen the worst of the worst of them, haven't we?"
They naturally ceased their Phantom Thief talk when the door opened, even though Sae already knew about their escapades. She was the reason their leader got out of jail, after all. Apparently, even after something like that, the normal goings-ons of the real world could still grate the prosecutor to her core.
"I am going to string the new SIU Director up by his old, wrinkled penis! That fucking incompetent bastard is already trying to sweep things under the rug and pretend that the Phantom Thieves never existed! Then, he has the GALL to tell me to take time off and get a husband! As if I need another stupid man-baby in my life!"
The red-eyed squall froze under the worried gazes of the two teenagers.
"Oh. Futaba is already here."
Makoto nodded.
"I thought I would have a few minutes to rant."
Her sister shook her head.
"Huh."
"I mean," Futaba said, "I wouldn't have any problems with it, if you still wanted to."
Sae blinked with consideration. Her mental cogs churned, but she didn't move. "I think the mood might already have passed." The prosecutor pulled herself into her normal, dignified pose and tried to put on a straight face. Unfortunately, a pink tint on her cheeks betrayed her. "Thank you for making dinner, Makoto."
"Of course, Sis. You must have had a long day."
"I think," she started, paused, and continued, "that I might go take a bath. I'm glad you could be here, Futaba, and apologies for my outburst."
"Oh, no, it makes sense."
Sae nodded at the young girl, and somehow it felt like they had a true connection. Futaba couldn't place what made her feel that, but for some reason the tension she felt initially just disappeared. The silence was still heavy with awkwardness, but Sae ignored it was practiced ease. She walked over, picked up the plate of stir fry, and retreated to the bathroom.
Futaba waited until the water started running. "Did she just-"
"She does that sometimes, yes."
"But, like, in the bath?"
The younger sibling nodded.
"That's gotta be a glitch in her programming…"
Futaba thought about asking if Makoto ever found pieces of broccoli or some other random food bits clinging to her hair or some other places, but decided to just leave that line of questioning be. Instead, the younger Niijima took the reigns.
"Hey, Futaba…"
"What's up, Queen?"
Makoto shifted slightly, and a blush grew on her cheeks. Futaba's first thought was "Moe," and she didn't get to her second thought before her Queen spoke.
"I don't know if Akira told you, but I've been trying to, erm, expand my horizons recently. Do you think… you could teach me how to play some video games?"
Futaba's eyes shot fully open, and every cell in her body roared with new energy. Video games? Yes, her stronghold. Her domain. And she would welcome anyone into her world. Hell, if her real-life and online friends overlapped… those would be true friends, real keepers.
She flipped her hair with pride. "Why, you should have asked me sooner. I bring but one rule to the table!"
Red eyes watched her patiently, with a hint of fear. "Y-yes?"
"Look at me."
She was already looking at her, but Futaba needed the reference to be perfect.
"I am the queen now."
Without a console of some kind, Futaba was limited in what she could do, but those limitations were nothing when brought face-to-face with her custom-built laptop. She booted it up, plopped Makoto down, and began going through every single game she owned.
"This one is a top-down dungeon crawler, with a bit of a vintage flair. It's simple, easy to run, and single-player. A good one to dip your toes into."
"I see…"
"A bit boring, though, and its story is lacking. Now, this one, oh, this is a classic."
"Ah-"
"But if you want to start talking classics, we need to go way back. Here, lemme pull up an emulator…"
"Futaba-"
"Codenames, Apprentice!"
"Queen-"
Futaba couldn't prevent the grin that cut itself from ear to ear. "Yes, trainee?"
"Should I actually, um, play one?"
A beat.
"Huh. I… guess I forgot about that part."
"I got too excited and fucked it all up now she'll never want to play video games with me ever again shit shit shit-"
Makoto's voice was warm despite the overload of information Futaba had thrust upon her. "No worries. I found the mystery one you brought up a little while ago pretty interesting, could we start with that, please?"
"Y-yeah! Of course! As I should have expected from our planning extraordinaire!" Inside, Futaba was still screaming at herself. She was being overwhelming and she needed to calm down. If she showed this much enthusiasm about 'stupid games,' then maybe everyone was right in just thinking that she was a kid...
She stopped herself from saying that learning about these really niche mystery games wouldn't help Makoto connect with very many other people. The elitist in her really wanted to tear apart the game's flimsy plot and shitty graphics, but she managed to keep ahold of herself. This was about Makoto trying out games for herself. She could get to the more popular ones after she got the hang of gaming as a whole. And, if she still needed help finding games, she would still come to Futaba, as long as the hacker didn't scare her away. So that's just what she had to do: not scare her away.
"I just wanna get into Necronomicon and fly up into the sky and sit there."
"AHA! I KNEW IT!"
Futaba stirred, absently realizing her face was pressed up against the cold wood of the Niijima's coffee table. Judging by the sharp pain running along her cheek, she had dozed off without taking her glasses off, and would have a red line running up and down her face for the net five minutes or so. The pain was only annoying at worst, so she must have only been asleep for about half an hour. Shut-in timekeeping at its finest.
"Futa- Queen, I did it! I brought the killer to justice! He thought he would have gotten away with it, too, but he forgot one damning piece of evidence-"
Futaba yawned and stretched. One damning piece of evidence? That meant… "If the credits haven't rolled, the game isn't over."
The man had been framed, the murder weapon was a fake, and he had an airtight, albeit embarrassing, alibi involving two prostitutes and some farm animals. Makoto wasn't at the point where he revealed that, yet, which meant-
"Oh."
Yep. And now…
"Oh my…"
The game was oddly graphic.
"That's…"
"Disgusting."
"Yeah."
Futaba took off her glasses and slumped back into her arms, listening to Makoto gasp and move with involuntary reactions to having the true plot begin to show itself. Suddenly, the brown-haired girl closed the laptop and rubbed her eyes.
"I will continue tomorrow. The investigation may not be over, but no one actually solves a case like that in a night."
Maybe not in real life, but Futaba beat it four hours after it was released, at it was advertised as a free ten-hour experience. Maybe if they put more thought into their actually writing she wouldn't have just skipped the dialogue…
"I'm proud of you, my apprentice," the younger girl mumbled, pulling her jacket closer around you.
"Thank you, Queen," the true Queen replied.
"I'm no queen, though…"
Makoto's breath caught in her through, and that sound was all Futaba needed to know she had messed up yet again. She wasn't supposed to have said that out loud. Now Makoto would worry…
"Neither am I. It's just a codename, remember? I'm just a Student Council President who's in over her head."
Makoto Niijima… thought she was in over her head? How? "But you have everything together, don't you?"
She couldn't see the red-eyed girl without her glasses, but she could tell that the aura around her had become sad, less dignified. "We're both part of the Phantom Thieves. Do you really think any of us have everything together? Hell, even our fearless leader is a mess."
'Why'd she mention Akira? She didn't have to. Is he just on her mind? She must like him, and if she likes him, then where does that leave her? Alone again?
"I guess you have a point there."
Even with her eyes closed, she could tell that Makoto had turned her phone screen on. The soft blue hue relaxed her, made her feel at home.
"Even so, we've taken down people far more powerful than ourselves. Kaneshiro, Kamoshida, Madarame, even Sis… You're really making a difference in the world, you know. Who cares if we're royalty? This Meta-Nav… it gave us the power to fight back against adults, against oppressors. We'll use this to bring justice into the world. And, even if we mess up, at least we'll be able to see our names in the history books. Even if we get caught, we've already helped so many people, and people will know. Imagine that. Phantom Thief, Futaba Sakura."
"Candidate Found."
.
.
.
"Wait, what?"
A/N: Well, here we go. As Morgana would say, What're your thoughts?