5/3
Akira does another circuit through the front of Rafflesia, checking to ensure all the flowers look purchasable. Hanasaki-san is particular about all the variants in the storefront. "The customer," she always says, "should be drawn to us from across all of Shibuya's Underground. Before they see us, they should smell us, and before they smell us, they should have heard of us." Akira isn't quite sure what she was talking about - probably something to do with marketing - but the task gives him the opportunity to spend a lot of his shift in the storefront, which allows him to sweep the mall's crowds with his eyes again and again.
"Um, Akira-kun?"
He turns from the jasmines to find Haru, her hat pulled low over her face, overalls dusted with dirt. "What's up?"
Hanasaki-san is by the register, ringing up a customer.
Haru nods towards the flowers Akira stands before. "I think they're as hydrated as they're going to get."
Akira glances down at the spray bottle in his hand. "Right," he says. "Sorry."
She shakes her head. "Oh, no. It's fine. I just wanted to know if you were alright. You seem a bit distracted today."
Phantom Thieves. Yukio Kan. Nakanohara Natsuhiko. The PhanSite. Mishima. Ryuji. Shiho. Ann. Kamoshida. Makoto. Mementos. My family.
He shrugs. "I've just got a lot on my mind."
"I see," she replies, and collapses into a short silence. "I, um, don't see Mona-chan anywhere. Did you not bring him today?"
"He's out with friends," Akira replies.
Haru smiles. "Cat friends?"
"Nope. Regular human ones."
"O-oh," she says. Akira sets the spray bottle down on the nearest stool and rolls his shoulders. When he yawns, she asks, "Tired?"
"Very."
"Good thing we're on break then," she says. "Are you doing anything for Golden Week?"
Just crime fighting. Or crime, depending on your perspective. "Not really," he replies. "You?"
She shakes her head. "To be honest, I didn't do much this morning." She giggles. "I haven't been lazy in a long time, but my father was out at a meeting, and there was no one at the house, so I figured I could just sleep in."
Akira smiles and nods. "Must've been nice."
"It was." Haru glances around and Akira looks back out at the crowd.
Come on, he thinks. She's just trying to talk with you. Say someth-
"So," Haru says, a mischievous lilt in her voice. "Have you talked with Mako-chan lately?"
Akira turns his attention back to her.
Her face is the very picture of innocence. Her eyes are directed upward at the ceiling. Her hands are clasped behind her back, and she rocks back and forth on her heels.
"Just, uh, the other day, in fact," Akira says, turning back to the flowers, and grabbing the spray bottle once more.
"Any plans?" She asks, stretching out the last word.
"Not really," Akira says, hating that he can feel the red in his face. "We're just-"
"Excuse me?" Comes a nervous, shaky voice.
Akira turns around, and stiffens when he sees a young woman in her early twenties, standing beside them. She wears an ankle length brown skirt and a red blouse. Her eyes dart about, and she cannot seem to stop moving her hands.
"Oh," Haru says, disengaging from the conversation and moving over to her. "May I help you, ma'am?"
The woman clears her throat, and says, as if she has rehearsed it, "I would like to buy eleven red roses, please."
Haru blinks. "Eleven?" She glances back at Akira, who says nothing. "Are you sure," she says, turning her gaze back to the woman, "that you don't want a dozen?"
The woman shakes her head. "Eleven, please."
"Alright then." Haru turns back to Akira and says, "Shall we?"
"Would you mind starting?" Akira asks, and steps back towards the storage room. "I'll be right back."
"Oh," Haru replies, frowning. "Okay."
Akira ducks into the storage room, withdraws his phone and sends a group text.
AKIRA: She's here. Brown skirt. Red blouse.
It doesn't take long before the response comes in.
RYUJI: Awesome! We'll take it from here!
#
Nakanohara waits for her to ascend to the street level, and then follows her up the steps. It is so easy to track her, thanks to the flowers she bought from that hole in the wall place in the Underground.
Still, it eats at him.
Who could she be buying flowers for? Had she taken another lover? Already? It's absurd. She was his. It was for reasons like these that he kept tabs on her. She couldn't be trusted. She was a snake.
Nakanohara peers out into the growing night, and sees her walking towards the crosswalk, straight-backed, the roses clutched against her chest. It's as if she hasn't a care in the world. He works his jaw, soundlessly, and the familiar grating of his teeth rubbing into each other keeps him grounded. He sets off across the crosswalk, following in her wake.
She takes off down Central Street, her head straight ahead. From his perspective, she doesn't appear to be looking anywhere except directly in front of her.
For what feels like the hundredth time, he tries to reach across the void between them, to convey his feelings to her in a way that she will understand. He knows it is a childish impulse, a fantasy, but it brings him some kind of comfort.
Well, no. Comfort isn't the right word. He hasn't felt comfort in a long time.
But to open up his heart, to vomit his emotions into the ether of the universe? It almost makes him feel like an artist again. Not that he ever was one. He had only been a trusting fool. He had buried his skepticism during his 'apprenticeship' in favor of promised returns. And then he had been tossed out.
He shakes her head as his one true love turns at an intersection. Can't she understand? He's not doing this because he hates her. He's doing this because he needs her. She'd been the one thing in his life that hadn't been a disappointment. She had to bear that responsibility. They had to bear it together.
He turns to follow her down the intersection, and sees her running. "Huh?" He says, aloud, before he can catch himself. Why would she take off like that?
He starts to pick up his pace, but then he realizes that she's full on sprinting and he hisses out a curse and speeds up too. He was never an athlete, but neither was she. If he can close the distance, he can keep up his watch.
She drops the red roses, and vanishes into a side alley. Nakanohara is a block away and he snarls at anyone in his path, before shoving his way past them. He is panting by the time he reaches the mouth of the alley, and he spins into it and-
Collides with someone, rears back, and falls flat on his ass.
"Gah!" He shouts when he lands.
"Ow!" Comes a voice.
Nakanohara blinks and looks into the wincing face of a young, blonde boy wearing a purple sweatshirt and jeans, sitting on the ground just like him.
A young girl, also blonde, stands over the boy, hands clapped over her mouth. "Oh no! Are you okay?"
"Y-yeah," the boy groans. "I'm fine."
The girt swats him on his head. "Not you!" She steps over him and crouches next to Nakanohara. "You! Are you okay?"
"Fine," Nakanohara groans and starts to push himself to his feet.
"Wait, wait," the girl says and puts her hands on his shoulders. "You should stay down. You might be hurt."
"Don't worry about me," the blonde boy, an angry undercurrent to his voice. "I'm perfectly fine."
The girl frowns. "Oh please, your skull is thick enough to take a brick." She looks back at Nakanohara and winks. "I should know, I've thrown a few at him."
"Really," Nakanohara says, sliding himself away from the girl. "I'm alright. I need to get moving."
"Oh?" The girl asks, blinking. "Are you in a rush to get somewhere?"
"I have business, yes."
"Like, what do you do?"
He shoves himself to his feet. "Is that really relevant?" He growls.
The girl looks appropriately cowed, but the boy stands up. "Hey, man! My girlfriend just asked you a simple question. You don't have to be a dick."
"Excuse me?" Nakanohara asks, rounding on the boy.
"No, come on," the girl says, tugging at the boy's sleeve. "It's fine."
"Like hell it is," the boy says. He jabs a finger in Nakanohara's direction. "You collided into me, man! Now, I don't really care, but don't you go lookin' down on her and talking that way to her. Freakin' rude is what it is."
The girl continues to pull on his sleeve. "Seriously, let's just go."
Nakanohara narrows his eyes. "You should listen to your girlfriend. I'm not one you should cross."
"Oh yeah?" The boy asks, stepping up to him. "What's so special about you, jerkwad?"
A sudden, clear thought pierces its way into his mind. Why am I wasting time here? He turns back towards the alley, but his ex is long gone. He does not know which direction she turned at the other end, but given how winding Shibuya's streets and alleys are, she could be anywhere. If she hadn't stopped running, she might've even made it back to the station, and boarded a train.
"Dammit," he spits, glares at the two teens and stomps off.
"Yeah, keep walking asshole," the boy shouts at him.
"Oh, fuck off!" Nakanohara shouts, and doesn't look back. He reaches the end of the alley, and glances around. As he suspected, she's nowhere to be seen.
#
Once Nakanohara turns the corner and vanishes from sight, Ryuji spins on Ann and lifts his hand. Ann, grinning, gives him a high-five. "That was awesome!" She shouts.
"Totally! Did you see how pissed he was?" Ryuji laughs, then sobers. "I hope she managed to get away."
"I bet she did," Ann says, nodding. "We stalled him long enough."
Ryuji looks back down the alley. "So he really was stalkin' her, huh?"
"Looked like it to me." She squints into the alley. "I don't see Morgana hiding by that can anymore, so he probably thinks so too." Ann frowns and raises an eyebrow at Ryuji.
"What?" He asks, when he sees her look.
She shrugs. "Nothing. I was just surprised at your acting skills. You really got into your role," and she snaps her fingers, "like that."
Ryuji rolls his eyes. "Right. Because bein' a loudmouth is something I have no experience in."
Ann throws back her head and laughs. "You're right. It's the role you were born to play."
Ryuji smiles and shakes his head. "We should get back to Akira, let him know we've got all the evidence we need."
Ann nods and follows him as he starts to walk away. "It's all on Mona now. I hope he'll be alright."
Ryuji waves her worries away with a single hand. "He'll be fine."
#
Nakanohara slams the door to his apartment shut.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
He stands in the darkness, his breath heavy and his shoulders quaking. He can't stop picturing the faces of those two blonde delinquents. Can't stop hearing the words that one boy had said to him. What's so special about you? They didn't know. They didn't know. He very nearly was someone, once.
And then that fucking Madarame...
And that woman! She had made everything better and now she wanted to be rid of him? Impossible. Impossible.
His apartment smells of yesterday's garbage, but his nostrils adjust quickly. He is used to the stench. He stomps across the floor to the mat and drops down onto it.
In the end, it doesn't matter that he couldn't find her again. He knows where she lives. If he has to, he'll go there directly. Give her an ultimatum. Either she takes him back, or he'll...
He'll...
The doorbell rings.
"Who's there?" He shouts, his voice cracking.
No response.
Nakanohara pushes himself back to his feet and makes his way back to the door, grumbling the whole way. "I'm not interested in whatever you're selling," he shouts through the door.
No response.
With a growl, Nakanohara throws the door open and looks out. There's no one there. He sticks his head out into the hall of the apartment building, and sees what looks like a black cat dashing around a far hall. Probably belongs to that old hag that lives upstairs.
He is about to go back inside when he notices something on his welcome mat. It is a small card, written in red and black characters. He bends down, and lifts it up.
Dear Nakanohara Natsuhiko: We know what you're doing. Stalking your ex-girlfriend will not bring her back to you. Your actions and obsessions are ruining both her life and your own. That is why we have decided to change your heart. We will steal the corruption out of you, and you will amend your ways before you do something you can't take back. This will happen tomorrow. Prepare yourself.
Sincerely, The Phantom Thieves of Hearts
Nakanohara stares at the small card in his hands. "Wh-what the fuck is this?" He shouts. The Phantom Thieves of Hearts? He feels as if he's heard the name before, but for the life of him, he cannot remember where. "No," he says, and slams the door shut. He retreats further into the darkness, his only assailant the thin line of light from the hall that shines beneath his door. "No, she's mine!" He knows what they're talking about, what they're really saying. They're the ones that bitch probably bought flowers for! They're just trying to keep him away from her. He begins to laugh, and it grows until it hurts his throat, but he cannot stop. "She's mine! She's mine! And if I can't have her, no one can."
##
A/N: It always bothered me that the PTs never actually looked for evidence that the Mementos Targets were committing crimes. Anywho, thanks for reading, as always!