Running a shop such as Metalworks was the job of real men. Ever since he was a young lad, Daidara had always wanted to open up his very own weapon shop. This was not because he wished to glorify the violence that the weapons were obviously constructed to unleash, but because of the meticulous detail and soul that went into each separate piece of weaponry and armor.

The reason he had opened up the weapons shop was so his art could be appreciated by men of equal moral standing as himself.

He did not want his art gawked at by a group of jittery teenage kids, which were the only customers he ever seemed to see in his shop. This day was no exception.

Three normal high school kids, probably no older than fifteen, were snooping around at his masterpieces. He would never turn down a sale, but he wished for once that he would find a worthy consumer.

Not to mention that they probably weren't of legal age to purchase from his shop.

"Here we are," exclaimed the energetic amber-haired girl.

The group consisted of two boys and a girl, all of whom stood out from the dark red moody interior of the shop. Their colorful school uniforms and bubbling personalities didn't sit well with the mystique which Daidara's Metalworks strived to achieve. If a real customer browsing for art came in and saw three kids in the store, Daidara would be a laughing stock.

Little girls and boys did not belong within the dragon's den.

The tallest boy with brown hair began examining his surroundings, clearly disturbed about where he was. Daidara bit back a smirk, as it was a good sign that these kids would be out of his hair soon.

"Wh-what kind of shop is this...?" The boy asked.

The girl turned to him, her face sloping down into a frown.

"A metalworks... I guess." She whimpered pathetically. "They sell all sorts of metal crap... like katanas and stuff."

Daidara stood cross-armed behind the counter, fighting down the anger that boiled inside. Not only was his business generally considered a failure, but these kids had the audacity to come into his shop and mock his work.

"Doesn't that seem weird to you!?" The tallest boy moved in on the girl, apparently challenging her authority. "Why would you know about a place like this anyway? You probably watched one too many kung-fu movies and..."

"It's not that at all!"

The girl's sudden outburst made Daidara question his position, but he stayed motionless. If there was an opportunity for a sale, even if it was from a group of whining teenagers, he would take it.

"I overheard some guys in our class talk about it," the girl justified her stance. "They said this place sells weapons and armor."

The other two boys fell silent as the girl began scanning the shop. It was fascinating to see such a young girl take such passionate interest in weapons, but something about the situation didn't ring right. There was a panicked energy to her search that was uncomfortable to watch. Her eyes squinted as she glanced over every possible option, until she found an armor suit that caught her attention.

"Here," she pointed to the Feudal Japanese themed set of heavy armor ecstatically. "Oh, but it might be too heavy..."

The quieter boy, who had already picked up numerous sharp potentially dangerous weapons with a buyer's eye, walked casually to the counter.

"For god sakes," he sighed. "Chie, I have everything we need here. Can you just fall in line?"

He turned to Daidara, who for the first time was able to get a good look at his customers.

The boy who had been bickering with the brown-haired girl in the green sweater and skirt sported large headphones around his neck, which Daidara could only guess was some kind of hip fashion statement and served no real musical purpose. Both of the boys were extremely thin, but that seemed to be the trend with the young people within Inaba.

They all just keep getting gayer and gayer.

"Hi there," the focused boy said while gently placing a small pile of metal death on the counter.

"You know," Daidara grumbled. "I'm going to need to see some ID."

The focused boy smiled nervously as he reached into his pocket. "Ahhhh, of course. Hold on a moment."

He rustled around his back pocket, and after what seemed to be slight hesitation, placed the entire wallet on the counter.

"Your ID," Daidara clarified. "Not your entire damn wallet."

"Sorry."

The kid was clearly fumbling around either a fake ID or a lack thereof. Daidara merely scowled, hoping that he wouldn't have to give his precious items to such a worthless waste of humanity.

"Here we go," the boy laughed nervously as he handed the card to the shopkeeper. "I'm sorry, I'm entirely unused to using this, you know?"

Daidare remained silent as he examined the card. If it was a fake, it was a damn good one. He tilted it from side to side, searching for any of the tell-tale indications of forgery.

"Alright," Daidara mumbled. "That lot there is going to cost you about five-thousand yen."

"I've got that covered," he responded with a roll of pure currency. "Can we like, carry these in like... a box or something?"

After assisting the ignorant soul with the cardboard transportation for his newly acquired goods, the boy merely returned to his group without a single thank you.

The young kids had nerve. They all had it. Betraying the entire history and customs of Japan as they continued on in their nervous chatter.

"I dunno, Chie..." the lad with the headsets muttered. "I still think it's too dangerous. I know how you feel, but-"

"You don't! You don't know shit about how I feel!"

The girl turned fuming red with tears running down her cheeks.

"Yukiko might die from this," she ranted. "For crying out loud! I'm going, and that's that!"

This was the point to act. This was the point to tell the kids to get the hell out of his store and never come back.

But, considering that he had actually managed to sell some of his precious belongings, he choose to remain silent. The conversation was just about to get interesting.

"Okay," the unpleasantly impolite weapon-purchaser sneered. "But you HAVE to stay behind us."

"Psh, I'll be fine! My reflexes are second to none!"

He had made the wrong choice. Clearly this kids were up to something far more terrifying than their innocent exteriors would lead on. Clear marks of hysteria and delusion clouded their eyes, and they continued to discuss their nefarious scheme in the midst of the metal master.

Telling them to leave would be a dangerous move. Daidara had heard of these kinds of hellions before. Those who dare to place authority upon them were bound for pain, and considering that they had a small box full of death instruments, the chances were not in his favor.

"You know..." the boy with the headphones sighed. "If we hold this stuff around town, we'll just get picked up again. But it's not like we can waltz into Junes with a box full of weapons and expect no one to notice, either..."

Junes? These little twerps are planning something at Junes?

There was only one in town, and it was always bustling with shoppers.

What does he mean by picked up? Have they already tried this before?

Suddenly, the girl's face perked up as an idea struck her. "Why not conceal them under our uniforms? I don't think people would notice."

My god... they're serious?!

"Okay," the head phoned boy responded enthusiastically. "Let's try that. Alright, let's split up and get ready. The store'll be crowded until the afternoon sale ends, and if we walk around together, the cops might get suspicious."

Especially if I have anything to say about it.

They seemed so determined in their crazed fanciful states. Daidara had never seen something so disgusting in all of his years. As the trio left the store, he couldn't help but imagine what horrible incident might have unfolded due to his recklessness.

They are obviously thirsty for the blood of a first kill. ... I can't let that happen!

He quickly reached for the phone, and began dialing frantically for the police. Despite risking his entire reputation to having possibly sold the weapons to the minors in the first place, he had to take responsibility. It was his fault.

Someone might die because of him.

"Hello... yes. I wish to report some suspicious individuals."

You are doing the right thing, Daidara. The fathers of metal would be proud!

As they all slumped against the walls of their cell, Yosuke looked around at his party members with disappointment. None of them ever expected it to turn out this way.

Now there was no chance of saving her. No chance of solving the murders. No chance to act through with their plan.

"Well..." Yosuke sighed. "We sure fucked up."

Writer's Corner:

This was my first crack-fic. I'm not quite sure I have the knack for this sort of writing yet, but it was certainly a lot of fun to write. This is a nice break from my current on-going Haruhi fic, and I wanted to write something that tied into Persona somehow.

Then today, I was playing Persona 4 and... noticed the most unintentionally hilarious scene I've ever encountered in a video game.

Kids, if you're going to buy weapons and armor from a guy, don't talk like complete psychopaths in front of him. Just a rule of thumb.

Oh! And leave some honest reviews guys. I love receiving feedback, both good and bad.

If you thought the story sucks, tell me! If you loved it, tell me! If it was meh, tell me! 'Honest to Suzumiya' reviews are the best.