Akira Kurusu's first day of school was… eventful, to say the least. Wandering into a large castle under menacing red skies marred by black clouds alongside a supposed delinquent and awakening an untold power in blue flames in the same day — maybe the same hour, he wasn't sure — was decidedly the oddest thing he had ever done.

But, well, on the bright side, now he had a friend. A boisterous, loud mouthed delinquent, but kind hearted and loyal in his own right. He smiled to himself as he walked back to Cafe Leblanc. Ryuji had treated him to dinner, fortifying their friendship over bowls of beef and conspiratory whispers of the castle they went into that day.

He really didn't want to go back and face Sojiro-san, who probably had already heard of his tardiness in the morning. It wouldn't go without repercussion, he was sure, and being late on his second day on probation was not a good way to stay under the radar. Nor was walking into another world, really, but what could he do? It wasn't really his fault.

As the bells on the doors to the cafe jingled, signifying his impending doom, he was met with a surprising sight — maybe? It seemed to just be two customers, though why they were here so late, he didn't know.

One of them held an air of cold sophistication. His Shujin uniform, embellished with a small '3' pin, looked clean-cut and absolutely pristine. His senpai? Around the uniform was a long royal blue coat, with slight golden trims. Despite its flashy colors, it was quite modest and would probably blend in easily with a crowd, a testament to the designer's skill, Akira supposed. The boy's navy blue hair was maybe just the slightest bit wild, puffed with slight curls that Akira knew could be tough to comb out. A clear attempt was made though.

Finally, and probably the most interesting feature the boy sported was the black facial mask covering his nose and mouth. It was a common sight across Tokyo for people who were sick to wear masks such as this, though usually they were the standard baby blue of surgical masks rather than the black that adorned the boy.

What was interesting, rather than the way the boy dressed, was the person next to the boy, a younger child maybe 10 years old, if he guessed correctly.

The second boy, in contrast to the coldness of Akira's blue-haired senpai, was warm. Incredibly so. The boy's sky-blue eyes sparkled with joy, his every feature round and soft looking, from his pale pink curly hair to his pink, oversized, puffy sweatshirt. He was certain 50 percent of the volume was just air.

If the boy's mouth wasn't a smile, it was a neutral curious expression. Akira had the impression that this was the kind of child who lit up an entire room with a grin.

The blue-haired boy, his upperclassman, looked up from his fond tousling of the pink-haired child's nest of curly locks, and met Akira's gaze. Akira could tell how the golden-hazel eyes lost some of their little softness as soon as his eyes left the child, and hated to ponder what the boy would be like when alone.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Kishi Meta." His voice was interlaced with confidence and all the sophistication that Akira expected of his appearance.

Akira tried his best to reciprocate the same cordiality he was presented. "Likewise. Kurusu Akira."

Kurusu dreaded the face of realization and recognition that the third-year student donned in that moment. Kishi-san seemed about to say something, before the child next to him tugged on his blue sleeve.

"Same clothes as Meta. Go to school together?" His voice was youthful, cute, even. But with grammar more befitting of someone younger, and because of this, Akira was slightly taken aback.

Kishi-san seemed only fond though, giving the child another pat on the head. "I suppose so. Though we haven't met before this."

"Friend, then?" The child looked excited, with eyes twinkling more than before, if that was possible.

Kishi-san sighed. "No, Kirby. Just because we're schoolmates doesn't mean we're friends."

Kirby looked almost dejected when Kishi-san said that. Akira was left confused, but also mildly amused by this exchange, and he supposed the small uplifted corners of his lips gave it away when Kishi-san looked back at him. He half expected it to be a scowl, since he so obviously had heard of Akira's reputation, but found his blue-haired upperclassman's eyes neutral, maybe even narrowed slightly in thought. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but they seemed greener for the slightest of moments. Those eyes held no malice though. Perhaps he had been mistaken? Did Kishi-san not know of his record?

He was sharply aware however, of another pair of eyes observing him, sky-blue and piercing. It wasn't analytical or cold, but still seemed to decipher the deepest darkest depths of his soul. The pink-haired child, he was observing Akira.

Then, Kishi spoke up, rousing him from his thoughts. "I apologize about Kirby. He's a curious child, and does this to most people he meets for the first time."

Akira himself was thinking of what to respond with. This didn't seem merely like the gaze of a curious child, but he would accept it. "It's fine."

Akira felt the piercing gaze leave, and some tension in his body unconsciously loosened. The pink-haired child, Kirby, smiled up at Kishi-san. "Seems like a good person."

Kishi-san nodded to the child, though Akira could detect the slightest eye roll from the teenager. His hearing wasn't the best, but he could swear the blue-haired boy muttered, "said the same with Magolor and Marx..."

To which Kirby puffed up his cheeks, muttering back, "low blow. You thought so too."

Alright. Akira could accept that, he supposed. Behind him, the bells on the door chimed, signifying Sojiro's return, with a paper bagful of groceries. "Kept the fort down while I was gone, kid?" He asked with a gruff voice.

Kishi gave an affirmative hum, and took Kirby's hand in his own. "Thanks again, Sojiro-san. We'll be going back now."

Sojiro still didn't seem to notice that Akira was in the room, calling out behind his back as he moved into the kitchen, "don't you dare, Meta. You haven't eaten yet, have you?" It was more a declaration than a question.

Akira's eyes widened in surprise. It was nearly 8 o'clock, dinner time was long ago.

Kishi-san seemed to abashedly scratch the back of his head, before finally saying, "I can cook for myself, you know."

Sojiro sighed from the kitchen. "The question isn't 'can you,' it's 'will you'. Stay for some curry."

Akira almost didn't notice Kishi's silent shuffling towards the door. "Sorry, I've got homework to do. I'll see you tomorrow," Kishi managed to somehow say, with a tinge of amusement before making a break for it out the door, Kirby laughing on his heels.

Sojiro ran out of the kitchen and stared at the door in fond annoyance, an expression not uncommon for a father. Akira wondered what his caretaker's relationship with the teenager and child was. "Dang brat… better feed himself," Sojiro muttered.

It was then that the man finally noticed his new charge standing there. The gaze turned on him, hard and stern, with none of the warmth from before. Akira gulped.

"You have a lot to explain."


The next morning, Akira awoke again to the harmonic smells of coffee and curry wafting up from the cafe downstairs. It was an unconventional breakfast, but nevertheless a good one. Greeting him when he went down the stairs however was not only Sojiro, but Kishi-san as well, uniform and jacket just as pristine as yesterday. His companion, the Kirby, had found a nicely shaded location in the corner booth of the cafe to sleep, head resting on the puffy sleeves crossed on the table in a makeshift pillow. Under his arms was a tablet, which now that Akira remembered, was with Kirby yesterday too.

Kishi and Sojiro seemed to be bantering lightheartedly, Sojiro grumbling, "This ain't a daycare, you know."

Kishi's eyes narrowed a bit in what Akira assumed to be a smile, since he was wearing the black facial mask again. "And yet you take him anyways." Kishi's eyes softened into something more genuine. "I can't thank you enough though."

Sojiro sighed. "Don't. He's always welcome, kid." He seemed to notice Akira come down at this moment. "Have your curry quickly, kid. Meta's gonna accompany you and make sure you aren't late again today."

Akira supposed It was to be expected. Hopefully castle-exploring could come after school today, rather than during the first half of the day. He nodded in affirmation.

After he finished the curry and the two Shujin students nodded their farewells at Sojiro, they walked together to the metro station in silence.

Akira's assumption had been correct. Kishi's kindness seemed to exist only in the presence of his small companion or the cafe owner, for whatever reason. All the warmth seemed gone from his eyes, and he looked for all the world like an apathetic, antisocial teenager.

As they neared the school, Akira began walking farther and farther away from the blue-haired upperclassman. He could hear the low whispers and mumbles around him. Criminal, delinquent, assault, carries around a knife, all conversations seemed to revolve around these or something similar. Kishi probably didn't want to be involved if he could help it.

Yet, instead of continuing to walk, Kishi merely turned around and stared at him until his slowed pace brought him close enough, before turning back around towards the school.

"Kishi-senpai… don't you care about your reputation?" Akira couldn't help but question.

When the golden-hazel eyes met his, Kishi spoke. "It matters not. Sojiro-san made a request of me and I'll carry it out."

Well, that was admirable. As they reached the school gates, Ryuji ran up to him, a grin plastered on his face. "Akira!" He shouted as he waved, just for good measure. Akira sighed. This boy didn't know the meaning of subtlety.

From out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Kishi had left him, deigning to get into the school quickly rather than find a friend in the front yard in the time before the first bell rang.

When Ryuji finally got to him and followed his gaze, he quirked his eyebrow a bit. "What's got ya interested in Kishi-senpai? He's a bit of a stick in the mud if y'ask me."

Akira hummed in interest. "Do you know him, Ryuji?"

"Nah man, not personally. But the whole school knows him. No middle school records, yet he's got legendary grades. Top of the graduating class, right next to the student council president Niijima Makoto."

Akira's eyes widened. This person was quite impressive. Ryuji took his surprise as a gesture to continue. "Hasn't got a single friend though, and barely speaks. Like I said, stick in the mud."

"And he's never been seen with a kid or anything?"

Ryuji was confused by the question, but answered regardless. "Dunno, man. Nobody really sees him outside of school. Why you so interested in him anyways?"

Akira shrugged in response, taking in the little information he got. Ryuji never got his answer, since the first bell rang soon after, signalling that it was time to go to class.


Exploring Kamoshida's Palace was… odd, he guessed he could say. The things that it revealed though, were far worse than either he or Ryuji had expected. With newfound resolve, he found himself going back to Leblanc to rest after a long day.

The bells that rang with the opening door were accompanied by a gruff acknowledgement of his return from his caretaker, who seemed considerably more satisfied that he hadn't gotten a phone call from the school today.

About to ascend the stairs to his large bedroom, Akira paused when he saw the pink-haired child in the corner of the cafe again. Out of simple politeness, he waved a small hello, which seemed to make Kirby's day somehow, much to his amusement.

"Hello!" The child greeted back, with a broad smile. "How your day?"

Akira was once again struck by how young the child probably was mentally compared to appearance. "Good. You?"

Kirby grinned. "Finished all of Meta's assignments! I'm happy."

Akira looked to the tablet on the table, which was opened to a to-do list full of what one might find as homework in a school. There was an astounding amount, annotated with prioritization, difficulty, time consumption, and tips and tricks. It was like a meticulously planned out curriculum. Kirby's words hit him.

Meta's assignments.

Kishi-senpai was homeschooling a 10 year old while going to high school himself.

Alright, Akira was interested now. Still, he withheld himself from prying. He had manners, thank you very much. Waving a quick goodbye to the child, he went upstairs to his abode. Maybe he'd work on his homework.

It wasn't until a few hours later that he heard Kirby's excited voice, announcing the arrival of who seemed to be his caretaker, Meta.

The two of them left, leaving Akira to puzzle what his life has turned into. Talking cats, magical castles, alternate worlds, and an odd senpai revolved in his head, as he closed his eyes and went to sleep.


From that point on, a nice(?) routine had been established, where he would see the blue haired enigma and the child he had with him in the morning, Kirby sleeping in the corner and the mysterious masked Meta waiting for him. He'd accompany Akira to school at the behest of Sojiro, before leaving to not be seen for the rest of the day until the evening, when he came by Leblanc to pick Kirby up for the night. On weekends, neither Kirby nor Kishi-san would be seen in Leblanc, and that was fine with Akira. The arrangement for Kirby to be there everyday was probably only because Meta had school most of the time anyways.

On occasion, once or twice, both Kishi-senpai and his charge were not to be seen for the afternoon. When he questioned Sojiro, he merely received a shrug. "Not my job to keep tabs on him," he had said.

Kishi-senpai remained stoic as ever on their trips to the school, preventing Akira from getting any closer to him. Meanwhile, Akira worked with Ryuji to figure out how to out Kamoshida covertly.

Eventually, with the time constraint added due to risk of expulsion and the welcome addition of Panther to the team, the group finally defeated Kamoshida's palace.

What he didn't see was Meta's narrowed green eyes in thought when the blue-haired upperclassman saw the red calling card.

Kamoshida's confession was a moment of glory for the trio of thieves. In celebration, they went to a high end buffet with the money they had made, and decided how to continue.

The Phantom Thieves of Hearts. Akira loved the idea, cliche and dramatic as it was. He would be making a difference in life, helping people. They all would.

Giddy at his newly found purpose, place, home, and friends, he continued life leading the double life of Akira, the meek student and Joker, the confident thief. It all happened so quickly, but it felt so right, like this was what he was supposed to do, what he was always meant for. The empty space that was his purpose and identity was no longer vacant, and he welcomed the changed wholeheartedly.

Morgana had even deigned to join him in LeBlanc, with Sojiro's approval. Oddly enough, Kirby didn't react with the same doting over the adorable "pet" as Sojiro had. There was no hostility, and he was comfortable with the cat. But at the same time, there wasn't the same affection he would often find children treating Morgana with.

Morgana was fine with it. It just meant being treated more like an equal, and being truly human, of course he basked in it.

He'd seen Meta gazing at his bag with Morgana in it the morning he'd decided to smuggle the feline into the school, and sweatdropped. When Kishi-senpai finally said something, to Akira's relief, it was "do not fret. I will not be the one to get you in trouble anytime soon."

All in all, things were going relatively well, for being on probation. He wouldn't mind if things continued this way.


"Kirby."

The child nodded back in acknowledgment, a small knowing smile playing on his face. "Don't speak back to the cat?" He already knew what his mentor would say.

Meta nodded proudly. Years drilling into Kirby survival instincts had paid off. His disciple was showing caution, an excellent trait.

The cat, dubbed Morgana, was the unknown. The unknown was dangerous until it was proven not to be. It couldn't be a coincidence that only they could hear the cat, maybe even Akira too.

Meta sighed. Their bills for the apartment were coming in again.

"Kirby, ready for a Mementos run on Saturday?"

The mini Star Warrior nodded with enthusiasm. "Always."