I posted this earlier, but realized it was too soon. A lesson I never really learn…

There is a chance the rating may go up, if only for the subject of the first arc and the changes made for a FemPC. Not sure if language would warrant a higher rating either as people get to say 'fuck' in this. Like, should I think of it like the one usage of 'fuck' permitted in PG-13 movies or what? Heck, I'm not even sure if a FemPC technically counts as an OC or not.

When the Masks Come Off
Prologue

"I'm through accepting limits
'Cause someone says they're so
Some things I cannot change
But till I try I'll never know"
- "Defying Gravity," Wicked

City life was always on the move, this night was no different. Some loved the glitz and glamour, the hustle and bustle. Some could only handle it in small doses, vacationing, the rare trip for that one meeting or the planned outing. If even that. But what was virtually agreed upon by everyone, was that the city simply lit up the night.

The casino, the nighttime centerpiece, was usually full of life at these hours. And it was. Until a few moments ago. The alarm sounded, silencing the general chatter one came to expect in such large crowds. A few individuals knew when to fold them, metaphorically in this case, and started to push their way through the crowd in an attempt to leave the building without getting caught up in anything. Others stood around in groups, trying to figure out just what was going on.

For the most part, the crowd was surprisingly calm. There was a bit of chatter amongst the confusion, that was to be expected. But at the same time, no one was tripping over themselves in an attempt to leave or shove against each other like wild animals. Even when a trio of men in black suits walked in, the civilians were oddly calm.

"Quite the audience we have tonight," an unknown voice projected over the murmuring crowd. "I do hope I don't disappoint."

Attention went to the chandler in the middle of the room. Hanging about halfway down with a flat surface facing the ceiling, a figure stood, holding onto the suspension wire with one hand. The other hand cradled a briefcase that was tucked under their arm.

Those closes could make out the feminine shape of the figured despite the coat she wore. Her powdery hair and white domino mask stood out amongst the black on her person, her coat, her slacks, her boots. Perhaps some saw the confident smirk on the girl's face as her eyes scanned the crowd. Upon spotting the men in black heading towards her, one with his hand over an earpiece, no doubt calling for back up, she fluffed her hair and gave the audience a playful wink. She turned on her heel and, with a slight bend to her knees, she leaped to the next light fixture.

"Good work," said Mona, "now get running!"

Joker landed on the next fixture with a bend to her knees. Straightening herself up, she sprinted forward, ready to make the leap onto the next two light fixtures. "Yeah, I know. We only have one shot at this and I'm not about to screw it up."

"But I have to say, showing yourself above that crowd was an excellent move."

Landing on a semi-circle light with a glass pane, Joker spotted a trio of men in the black suits hurrying onto the foyer she was headed for. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath. "I'll need to change route."

"No worries," piped Oracle confidently. Her ability allowed the group easy communication without the proper devices. "I can guide you. Everyone else, head to positions. Use Route B!"

Joker moved straight ahead, coming across a line of arched pillars until she landed on the sturdier ground of a rounded balcony. If she had to guess, she'd say that was where the bar was. Two of the suits cut off Joker's path, but before they could do anything, their bodies convulsed. Their conventional human skin turned into tar-like muck. Their distinct faces were now featureless blue masks.

The confident smirk returned to Joker's lips as she tossed the briefcase aside. She readied herself to perform a half-cartwheel towards the Shadow. She twisted her body so she could follow the cartwheel up with a series of flips. On the last flip, Joker used the momentum to gain added height. She was able to get herself onto the Shadow's shoulders upon landing. Her gloved hand slapped itself on the blue mask, her fingers dug under the edge, pulling the mask until it popped off. Joker leaped off as the Shadow's shape changed into a large mechanical bull-like creature with a white cravat and a lower body that was an odd combination between a centaur and naga.

Reaching into her coat, Joker pulled out a thin black stick; a long red ribbon fluttered out, pooling together at Joker's feet. She held the wand so that her pointer finger was line up with it, a force of habit, and lowered herself into a defensive stance. "Comparing power levels…" Oracle spoke more to herself than to Joker. Until she got something they would both like, that is. "All right, no threat, not even a challenge. Get 'em, Joker!"

She nodded as though her accomplices were right beside of her. Joker's free hand reached up for her mask and yanked it off. "Arsene! Ravage them!"

A red and black, vaguely human, figure appeared behind her in a flurry of blue flames. The figure lowered itself into a genuflect as the Shadow was taken out with an Eigaon curse. The Shadow stumbled back, fazed. Quickly, Joker placed her mask back on, causing the red and black creature to disappear. She readjusted her grip on the wand and proceed to pirouette twice. The ribbon trailed behind the wand into a lovely circle. Instead of going around a third time, Joker came to a complete stop and threw her arm forward at the Shadow. The ribbon sliced into the creature as though she had just slashed it with a sword. As it disappeared into a black haze, Joker sprinted to grab the discarded briefcase while she placed the ribbon back in its proper place. Before she could celebrate her minor victory, another Shadow approached her, bringing down a sparking police baton.

Flipping backward, Joker kicked the baton out of the Shadow's hand. Landing upright, she turned on her heel and sprinted forward. She jumped up, using the balcony railing to give herself added lift and leaped onto a light pillar. Pulling off a similar maneuver, Joker leaped onto the foyer above it.

"Showoff," she heard Panther tease.

"Okay, this works out," quipped Oracle. "Go through that door behind you."

Joker looked over her shoulder first before she turned to find a door marked 'employees only.' It was not long before she found herself in the back rooms of the casino. She ducked out of sight when she spotted one of the agents at the end of her path. The agent was speaking with someone on his team through his earpiece. "Yes, understood." The agent instinctively nodded. "I'll continue the search."

Lowering his hand from the corresponding ear, the agent took off down the direction Joker had just come from. Unaware that the person he was looking for was crouched behind the casino's laundry cart. Once the agent was out of earshot, Joker stood back up and headed straight for the stairs at the end of the hall.

At the head of the stairs, Joker plastered her back against the wall, keeping an ear out for any voices or foot-falls from oncoming agents. Realizing the coast was clear she went to the window, once again plastering her back to the wall. She peered out the window, spotting the rows of people at computers and the monitors at the end of the room. Security was no doubt doing what they could to find Joker and the others.

"She's not alone! Fine them and kill them all!"

Crap.

Joker continued her trek, unnoticed by security as she walked right past them. Coming up to another flight of stairs Joker vaguely noticed the briefcase growing heavy in her arms. The stairs lead her to a hallway with a metal door at the end. She threw her free arm forward as she approached it, throwing the door open. Joker nearly threw herself to the banister overlooking the more higher-class shindigs. "Something wrong?" asked Oracle. "The exit should be up ahead."

Her brow furrowed as she looked on ahead. A multi-colored stain glass window was directly in front of Joker. "There?" Joker asked flatly.

She heard Oracle let out a sound of discomfort. "That's just how it is… You didn't really expect to be able to walk through the front door after all that, did you? Wait… can you even make it?"

Joker bit her lower lip for a moment while she scrutinized the area. "Yep," she said devoid of any sarcasm.

"There she is! Over there!"

Peering over her shoulder, Joker spotted three agents, their guns drawn and aimed straight at her. "No escape!" shouted one of them.

A plastered smile formed on Joker's face. She held the flap of her coat between her thumb and ring finger in her free hand. Sweeping her right leg behind her left, she dipped herself into a brief curtsy.

Fluidly, Joker turned towards the banister, placed her free hand firmly on the surface, and pushed herself up. She ran effortlessly atop the banister, literally cutting a corner as she approached the edge to save a little time. Stopping in front of the window, Joker raised her free hand up to the top of her head, she swiftly lowered it in a salute.

And then she threw herself out the window.

Her arms and the briefcase shielded her face as glass flew around her. She maneuvered herself in midair, rolling onto her feet upon landing. As soon as she stood up light's switched on around her. Her free arm shielded her eyes from the sudden change.

"Enemies here?!" Oracle asked in disbelief.

"What's wrong?!" demanded Skull.

"These readings… It can't be!"

"What happened?!"

"Oh no, oh no, oh no!" Noir chanted.

Joker pursed her lips to the side. The police, armed and ready to take action surrounded her, their spotlights aimed directly at her. Her eyes scrutinized the area, searching for any possible means of escape. Maybe not even an honest escape, just a distraction before the police could find the others. The unattended fire escape was the first thing she saw. "Sorry," Joker muttered.

"Joker!" Fox shouted as Joker sprinted to the right.

The instant she took a step, the police frontline moved in after her. A few meters in front of the ladder Joker needed a jumping start in order to reach the first rung. This action and the action of pulling herself up should have been an easy act for her. But not so much when she still had the briefcase in her arm.

Climbing about half-way up, Joker made the mistake of looking down to find her pursuers falling over themselves to climb up after her. Several dozen officers and one ladder, there were bound to be a few traffic jams. But when she looked up, Joker realized too late that a line of officers (did she dare guess they were snipers) waiting for her when she reached the top.

The gunman waiting at the head of the ladder repositioned his gun before he slammed the butt into Joker's face. The force knocked the wind out of her; her hand slipped from the rung and she found herself free falling. The briefcase slipped from her grasp, landing a few meters away from where Joker ultimately landed.

Winded, she was not given the chance to process what happened before she was forced down on her front, her arms held firmly behind her back with someone's knee planted firmly between her shoulders. The chief of police approached her, looking down at the sorry sight in front of him. "Wasn't expecting some little girl," he confessed, lowering himself onto one knee. He gripped Joker by the chin, forcing her to look up at him. "You have your teammate to thank for this. You were sold out."

"Wha…?" He released Joker's face before he stood back up.

One of the officers released Joker's right arm and pulled it up. A rush of panic claimed Joker before rational thought. She squirmed against her captors, chanting 'no, no, no,' over a metallic tinkling.

"Suspect confirmed. Cuff her!"

"Guess the drug was too strong. Wake her up!"

A splash of cold water brought back the near-familiar sense of panic in her. She sputtered looking up at a couple of blurred, humanoid shapes. She ached from the waist up. Her left eye was swollen and turning an ugly shade of purple. She was punched in the face by one of the agents after they made a rather lewd comment towards her and she spat in his face in retaliation. The shiner felt worse than the blows she took to the chest. All the aches she received came back all at once.

"No dowsing off," ordered one of the agents.

She blinked rapidly and tried to break free of her restraints, only to be met with the metallic tinkle of the chains. A slight wave of panic gripped her, she couldn't see clearly; she was in an unfamiliar room, though she had a good idea what it was. Her memory was still a bit fuzzy. The last thing she could really remember clearly was the sheer amount of fear that engulfed her when the second needle was forced into her neck.

Why wasn't her vision clearing? Didn't she put on her contacts this morning…? No… No, she'd been wearing her glasses for a while now. Where were they now?

Looking down at herself, she saw the white, dirtied, polo shirt and red and black plaid skirt of her school uniform. Right, the police confiscated her glasses and blazer in case she had another trick up her sleeve for an escape attempt.

"You still don't get it," said the agent. He took her face into his hand, forcing her to look up at him. "Game over. You lose. Give it up!"

On the last three words, he released her. The wind was suddenly forced out of her when the agent kicked her right between her solar plexus and chest. The force of the blow was enough to knock her chair over and her right out of it. Coughing, she brought her legs to her chest. "Lemme tell you how this is going to work, sweetheart," the agent said, grabbing her by the hair, forcing her up slightly, "either you cooperate, or you're getting another shot. Take your pick."

Her eyes looked past the agent, at a red light in the corner. A security camera, perhaps? Her brow twitched, something was trying to resurface in her memory… something important… Something… needed to be seen?

The agent, realizing where her gaze was held, looked behind him. "So, you still haven't figured it out, have you?" The agent released her hair abruptly, causing her to bump her head on the floor upon release. "There are no laws to protect criminals like you. Man or woman, you're not above the law."

For a moment, her brow furrowed, that one sentence pissed her off especially. She didn't have the chance to even contemplate a response before the agent dropped a kick into her gut. Once again bringing her knees to her chest, she started coughing again, not only still sore from the previous kick, but the beating she had gotten earlier.

Turning on his heel, the agent reached a hand out towards one of his coworkers, who handed him a black clipboard. "Obstruction of justice, blackmail," he read aloud, "defamation, possession of weapons, and… manslaughter. Talk about the works. To think all those crimes were lead by a girl like you." The agent chuckled to himself. "Surprised me with that one. I was under the impression you were some snot-nosed boy. But I suppose crime knows no gender. And you seemed to be enjoying every second of it, huh?"

It was a struggle for her to remember the crimes he listed, though some did strike a chord with her. The illegal weapons and defamation almost made her smile on impulse.

"It's about time you knew your place," the agent said before he signaled his partner.

The second agent approached her, unlocking the cuffs around her wrist. He grabbed her by the arm and forced her to sit up. She looked down at her hands, her wrists red from the cuffs being on too tight, and fingers tingling. She rubbed her hands together for a moment, trying to get feeling back into her fingers. The original agent held the clipboard and a pen out to her. "Sign here. It's a confession under your name."

Nodding, she took the clipboard and pen into her hand. But the agent grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. "Don't expect to walk out of here in one piece," he said in a hushed tone. "We're going to make you understand… One must take full responsibility for one's actions."

"You say that now…" she said with a hoarse voice, "but we both know you're not going to follow your own advice when you're the one under fire."

He struck her across the face, the force knocking her back onto her side. The strike irritated her already injured eye. "We'll see how long that attitude of yours last. Now get to signing, don't make me repeat myself."

She sat up, trying to ignore the throb in her eye and the oncoming headache. She placed the pen tip by the tiny 'x' at the bottom of the sheet and proceeded to sign her name.

Kusakabe Chiyo

Niijima Sae kept her head high and her eyes forward. Her bag gently tapping against her side with each step she took. Her destination was not that difficult to find, the security guard and one of the police detectives were a dead giveaway. "Excuse me," the detective said, as Sae approached, "this area is off-"

"I'm Niijima, from the Public Prosecutors Office," she introduced quickly and with no nonsense.

"The Prosecutors Office?" the detective asked skeptically. "And what business do you have here?"

"Just let me through; it's urgent. There's something I need to confirm with the suspect."

"I believe this case is no longer in your jurisdiction, Niijima-san. Besides…"

"You Prosecutor Niijima Sae?" they heard. Sae turned to find an older man behind her. Likely a superior in the force. "There's a call from your director. Hurry in and get it over with. Frankly, you're being an inconvenience."

A buzz came from Sae's pocket, instantly she dug out her phone, pressed the accept button, and held it up to her ear. She didn't need to see the ID to know who was on the other line. "I thought I told you to stand by," Director Kodaira said with a sigh.

"I'm responsible for this case," Sae argued, "and yet I'm not even being allowed an interrogation?!"

"I'm calling because I knew you'd bring it up."

"I will not be convinced until I confirm it for myself. This is my case."

She could almost hear Kodaira throw up his hands in defeat. "Good luck to you then. I won't be expecting much, though."

Sae ended the call and put her phone back in her jacket pocket. "I forgot to mention something important, Prosecutor," said the senior detective. "Your time will be cut short. I cannot permit you to speak with her for long. It's for your own sake. Her methods are unknown. After all, we don't know if it's safe to simply meet and speak with her."

"Understood," Sae said coldly.

Kusakabe was seated at the metal table, looking worse for wear. Bruised with a shiner over her left eye, a small trail of dried blood from her nose, her hair in slight dishevel. Her white undershirt had a few brown spots and dirt tracks. The look in Kusakabe's eyes was unlike anything Sae had known of her.

"I didn't expect it'd be you," Sae confessed solemnly. Someone Sae herself had had a few conversations with, one of her younger sister's friends. The last one, in particular, was something Sae had to force from her thoughts. Sae couldn't be utterly sympathetic towards Kusakabe. Whatever her indent and reason, Kusakabe was a criminal. "But at the same time, in hindsight, I can't say I'm totally surprised. Regardless, you'll be answering my questions this time."

Sae turned her attention from Kusakabe to a gleam on the floor. An empty syringe laid undisturbed; suddenly the look in Kusakabe's eyes made sense. "Those bastards," she muttered under her breath. She held a hand up in front of Kusakabe's face, waving it a few times. "Can you hear me? I know you've been through a lot, but almost anything can happen here. And I can't stop them. That's why you need to answer me honestly, and I don't have much time either. So what was your objective? What pushed you to commit these crimes?"

"So what was your objective?" Niijima asked. "What pushed you to commit these crimes?"

"What do you even want to know?" Chiyo asked through her haze. "Sounds like a pretty clear-cut case."

"It's not an issue of whether or not it can be used in court," explained Niijima. "But as this is my case, I feel I should know the details. And luckily you're coherent enough to answer. When and where did you find out about that world? How is it even possible to steal someone's heart? Tell me your account of everything, starting from the beginning."

Chiyo brought a hand to her forehead, her fingers entangled in her bangs. From the beginning? Could Chiyo even remember where all this started through her drug-induced haze?

Something blue suddenly fluttered across her peripheral vision. It was a vibrant shade of blue and though she couldn't see clearly, she could make out delicate wings? A butterfly? No, a blue lunar moth perhaps? "You've been held captive," a gentle voice said. "A prisoner of fate to a future that has been sealed in advance. This is truly an unjust game… Your chances of winning are almost none."

The moth began to circle around the room as the voice continued to speak. "But if my voice is reaching you, there may yet be a possibility open to you… I beg you. Overcome this game… and save the world… The key to victory lies within the memories of your bonds - the truth that you and your friends grasped. It all began that day… when the game was started half a year ago… For the sake of the future of your world as well as your own you must remember."

Finishing its piece, the moth flew off, disappearing before it could fly into the wall.

Slowly, Chiyo nodded. She decided it was best not to force the memories out, let them come to her as she gave her testimony. Do not force it.

"The ninth of April," she said at length. "I was on my train to Tokyo…"

Authors Note: Would you believe one of the hardest things about writing this was deciding if the title should be 'When the Masks Come Off' or 'When the Mask Comes Off?'

Chiyo's design takes cues from the FemPC of P3P, having hair and eye colors that contrasts with her male counterpart, and being modeled after a character from Devil Survivor. In Chiyo's case, she's modeled after Miyako Hotsuin from Devil Survivor 2 Record Breaker. Partially influenced by the fact that I've seen a few pieces compare Hibiki's design with Ren's. I chose Miyako specifically because she wasn't in the original game.

The name 'Kusakabe' comes from the manga and anime Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne, which was the series that introduced me to the concept of phantom thieves. There is no significant reasoning behind 'Chiyo' outside of 'I really like the name.'

The SUI Director isn't actually given a name in the game proper, I gave him one for the sake of convenience. The name comes from Yoshiro Kodaira, a soldier turned rapist and serial killer from 1932 to 1946