CHAPTER 1

ZERO SUM

"We will be arriving in… Shibuya, shortly."

He awoke with a start, gray eyes peeling open as he jolted in his seat. A couple heads turned his way in interest, but he quickly averted his eyes and relaxed his stiff posture. The congregated businessmen and chatting schoolgirls quickly forgot about his little lapse in concentration, focusing back on their conversations or their phones.

Leaning back, he sank into the soft cushion of his seat- letting his head loll while his tired eyes drifted shut. A constant, rhythmic rumble ran through his shoes pressed against the subway car's floor.

"This is the last stop for this line. Please transfer here for all subway lines."

He opened his eyes again, raising a brow at the voice of the overhead intercoms. Some of the bodies around him began to move, gathering up their bags or finishing their phone calls.

(Huh… Was I really sleeping for that long?)

The teen sat up, rolling his neck and eliciting a couple pops as he stretched. He was still a little tired, but he would really rather not get sent back down the subway line just to catch a little shut-eye. Running his palms across his plaid pants to smooth out the wrinkles, he reached into the bag leaning against his hip and pulled out a pair of glasses.

They flipped open smoothly, revealing their benign shape to his sharp eyes; the warm light filtering through the windows glinting off the clear glass. They were a simple pair of square, black rimmed glasses, unassuming and almost academic in appearance. Not exactly nerdy or gaudy, but definitely not sharp.

Even still he slipped them on smoothly, parting his frizzy, raven hair to frame around the glasses as he set them on his nose. Instantly his image changed. Keen, almost intimidating silver eyes, softened. Behind those glasses his eyes appeared normal, almost inviting in a way. Like this, he was completely indistinguishable from any of the other passing students- an unassuming, uninteresting presence that no one would give a second glance.

He pushed them up with two fingers, making sure they held. For just a moment, his eyes flashed behind those glasses- the familiar sharp glare returning alongside a furrow of his brow.

Tetsu Akira

Ex-Member of The Kazuya Family

In the next moment, it was gone, his fingers dropping away from the glasses while his expression returned to impassivity.

"What? Are you for real? A 'mental shutdown'?"

Akira glanced up, his eyes shifting toward two schoolgirls near the tram doors talking to each other without a care in the world.

"It's the truth!"

"To a person though? Come on… That's gotta be a joke!" The girl put a hand to her chest, smiling cheekily at her wildly gesticulating friend. "You really do love all that occult stuff, huh?"

The other girl pouted, before breaking into a wide grin and giggling.

Akira effectively tuned out the rest of their conversation. Cities would always be the same.

When the train finally pulled to a gentle stop at the station, Akira slipped his black bag over his shoulder before standing to his full, imposing height. The doors parted and he and the throngs of people exited out into the warm air.

Yongen-Jaya

Subway Platform

Akira's fingers tugged at his white turtleneck as he stepped out of his second subway car of the day, a vaguely uncomfortable expression crossing him. He was far more accustomed to looser, free-fitting clothing. A school uniform, especially one as bland as this one, didn't really suit him all that well.

Bustling people slipped past him as he stood there, the ongoing tide of people going to or coming from work seemingly endless. Glowing advertisements on the walls and the constant hum of voices and footsteps echoing through the underground area made themselves known. Akira watched them for a moment, soaking in the atmosphere, before slipping his hands into his pockets.

He moved past the people, eyeing the exaggerated slogans and posters as he let the escalator whisk him higher. The platform let off into a particularly busy city square, where many different stores stood and offshooting roads led even deeper into the city.

(Tokyo… It's a lot bigger than Niigata. I'm gonna get lost at this rate)

Make no mistake, Niigata was big and full, but it couldn't hold a candle to just how jam-packed Tokyo was. It certainly wasn't for the faint of heart either. Already he could feel the eyes that searched through the moving crowds of people- seeking out anyone who looked like a lost tourist.

He gave a small smirk as he recalled the first time he moved out of the countryside into a big city. Awestruck didn't even begin to do him justice. He had never made an easier target than he had then.

Either way, he wasn't in any hurry to get lost and cause a repeat of those embarrassing days. But he also wasn't willing to get pegged as a tourist by going around asking for directions.

Akira slipped his phone out of his pocket. It was a sleek black number, cutting edge in every way. When the screen lit up, he quickly navigated to the travel app. Just when his finger was about to press it he paused, his finger hovering just over the display while he frowned.

There, at the very bottom corner of his phone was another app. It was stark red and black against the soothing ice blue of his background, carrying the motif of some sort of piercing eye. Not only that, but it almost seemed to pulsate… thrumming with energy.

"..."

He was fairly certain apps were not supposed to do that. When did this thing get on his phone? Was it included in an update he hadn't realized went through? Or was it some sort of virus? He truly hoped not, this phone cost him more than he was willing to admit. With only a small amount of trepidation, he grabbed the app and slid it toward the bottom of his screen where it promptly dissolved into nothing.

How odd. At least it uninstalled easily. Shaking the circumstance from his mind, he popped open the travel app and quickly focused on his destination.

(It's not too far. Just need to take a couple turns and find the residential area. It should be in the backstreets.)

Easily memorizing the directions, he stuffed the phone away and leisurely made for his destination. Wide open space led to marginally thinner roads, stuffed to the brim with stores inches apart from each other and display signs boasting all manners of amenities. Cars and motorcycles were parked intermittently, and multiple people called out to the passing crowds- advertising cabaret clubs or delicious food.

Some things did catch his interest, but he was on a bit of a time crunch at the moment. Plus, as he was now, nobody would let him step foot into a club.

The trek was, by itself, uneventful. At this time of day there was little going on, and the streets weren't quite as claustrophobic or wild as they usually would be. He only made a single stop at a Poppo to get a can of coffee that he pocketed for later. After a couple minutes, the bright clubs, stores, and signs began to thin. Soon, apartment complexes and even homes began to come into view; the sight of a public park sequestered between a building and a pawn shop proving that he had found the right place.

The backroads were far quieter and easier on the eyes than the streets of before. In the shade of the buildings he was made aware of the almost rustic feel of the place. He relaxed himself minutely, brushing a hand over the leaves of a plant on the windowsill of a second-hand shop as he passed.

"Hey! You there!"

Akira froze in an instant. His hands balled into fists in his pockets as he turned his head to the call. There, on the corner of one of the closed shops, a police officer waved to him. He gave an annoyed grunt at the sight.

He was no stranger to being stopped arbitrarily by police. In fact, it wasn't a stretch to say that it was a very frequent thing. Cops only had to take a glance at him and his clothes to immediately mark him as some hoodlum or delinquent. Sometimes they just outright accused him of being a Yakuza.

They weren't wrong, of course, but it did get annoying at times.

"I haven't seen you around before. You a new face?"

Akira blinked behind his glasses, momentarily surprised by the normal tone. The suspicion that he was used to wasn't there at all.

(No pat down… No threats… Is it the glasses?)

Well, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The less attention he attracted the better.

"Yes, I'm new here," he answered cordially, his low voice making him appear even more mundane. "I'm looking for the home of… Sojiro Sakura. Do you know where it is?"

The officer rubbed his chin in thought, "Hm… directions huh? Yeah I know that place. It's just at the end of the alley back there, past the building with the stairs."

Akira nodded to him in thanks before stepping away, leaving the cop to his business. The building he sought wasn't really that far away once he came up on it, and he probably would have found it himself given time. Still, it saved him the trouble, and as he rang the buzzer he twiddled a tuft of his hair patiently.

"..." A long moment passed, and the home remained silent. Akira glanced at the nameplate again.

(No answer… I know this is the place. Maybe he's not home?)

Akira gave the buzzer another push, but didn't really expect anything to come from it. He cupped his chin in thought while shifting his weight to a leg, eyes shutting pensively.

Now what? He supposed he could take a seat and just wait for the man to show, but he would rather not get picked up for loitering if he could help it.

Sojiro Sakura… He knew nothing about the man. He had no cell number for him, no picture of him, hell… was he even a guy? He needed to know more.

Without a moment's hesitation, he popped open the mail slat and pulled out a couple letters addressed to the house. Yes, it was very illegal, but he didn't let it bother him. He sorted the letters, quickly reading the fronts without opening any of them.

(Ah. Here we go. A property bill, made for a 'Leblanc'. I think I saw a Leblanc on the way here.)

Stuffing the letters back into the mailbox, the black-haired boy retraced his steps, making sure to steer clear of the police officer along the way. Passing by a tobacco shop, he came to another end of the alleyway and found the place.

Leblanc was apparently some sort of cafe. It wasn't exactly ostentatious, but it seemed like a nice place from the outside. A chalk sign depicted some specials, and a few seats were arranged outside alongside some potted plants.

Akira smoothly stepped into the cafe, a bell chiming above the door as it opened. The insides were just as comfortable as the outside suggested, and immediately the warm smells of food and fresh coffee rushed forward. Leblanc reminded him of some of the cozier bars he had gone to.

An elderly couple slipped past him as he strode in, giving him gentle smiles that he returned with a respectful nod. The only other person present in the room was an older man leaning against the cafe counter, a newspaper loosely gripped in his hand as he read the contents. His face, slightly aged with wrinkles and a smart beard, seemed trapped between boredom and nonchalonce.

The door chimed one last time behind the kid, and the cafe manager finally looked up.

"...Oh, right. He did say that was today." Grumbling a little, the manager tossed the newspaper back onto the counter before standing up.

Sojiro Sakura

Owner of Leblanc

Sojiro eyed him up and down. "So, you're Akira?"

No doubt about it now, this was his guy. He didn't know what he was expecting, but Akira was glad Sakura seemed normal.

"I'll be in your care." Akira bowed marginally. Gao had beaten enough respect into his head that it was basically instinctual now.

Sojiro didn't seem all that impressed, only scratching at his beard lazily. "I was wondering what kind of unruly kid would show up, but you're the guy huh?" He shook his head and crossed his arms. "...The names Sojiro Sakura. Looks like you'll be in my custody for next year."

"Normally I don't make a habit of taking in delinquents under my roof." Sojiro continued, his face noticeably souring. "But I owe a favor to someone I know and… Well, it doesn't matter."

"A favor?"

Sakura ignored him, "Let's make this quick. Follow me."

The two passed through the cafe and to a wooden staircase at the end of the hall. When they climbed up it Akira had to stifle a horrid sneeze, a veritable wave of dust making itself known as he stepped fully into the second floor. Dim lights from the window paved the way as he stepped into the attic space.

The room was… cluttered, to say the least. Quite a few bags of trash and various knick knacks stacked up like some sort of storage room. Boxes and empty gas cans piled up in a corner, while forgotten books were tied into haphazard stacks on the tables and shelves. It was a pretty big space too, but by the dust coating every inch it obviously hadn't seen a broom in years.

"This is your room."

Anyone else probably would have been annoyed, but Akira simply took it in stride. He had slept in worse places after all. He avoided it if he could help it, usually, but desperate times and all that...

"How… quaint."

The cafe manager clicked his teeth, annoyed at the teenagers attitude, "Just be happy you have a place at all."

Akira made no reaction, only pressing his glasses back up his nose. As awful as the living conditions were looking, he couldn't exactly complain. He was intruding on this man's life after all, expecting him to let a criminal into his own house was a bit far-fetched.

"I'll be leaving after I lock up each day," Sojiro said. "You'll be alone at night, but you better not do anything stupid. I won't hesitate to throw you out if you break anything."

"Since you'll be living in my cafe for a year, let me see if I've got this straight... Some man bad talked a friend of yours, you went after him, got into a fight, and then you got sued. That about covering it?"

Not even close.

"..." Akira kept his mouth shut, not trusting himself to not say something dumb. Although his hands did tighten marginally at his sides.

"That's what you get for sticking your nose into an adult's business. You did injure him, yeah?" Sojiro didn't wait for him to answer, simply listing off his supposed 'crimes' with a disdainful frown. "...And now that you've got a criminal record you were expelled from your highschool. The courts ordered a transfer, and your guardian agreed. Now you're here."

"In other words, they got rid of you because you were a pain in the ass."

Some sort of flame ignited in his chest at those words, a volatile rage building up like a buzz inside his brain. He smothered it as best he could, but he could still feel it crackling in his veins. Sojiro had hit far too close to home.

"With that said, don't go causing any trouble for me while you're here. I am in the restaurant business you know? Behave yourself for the year and your probation will be lifted. If you make any trouble you'll be sent straight to juvie and I wont lift a finger to stop it."

Another discrepancy. Hayama was very clear on the court's ruling. If his probation was annulled at any point he would be tried as an adult immediately. If he was to be incarcerated, it would be in a real jail, not juvie.

"I'll be careful, Sojiro-san."

"You better…"

A tense silence befell them. Sojiro's obviously suspicious glare wasn't making him feel welcome at all, and the barbs of his words still had yet to fade. It was obvious that Sojiro didn't like him, even from the get-go he could tell. He didn't want him here at all. The question was... why would he agree to house him then?

"Get acquainted with the room. We'll be going to Shujin tomorrow to meet the staff. Its rare enough to find a school that will take someone like you…"

"Shujin…" Akira mused quietly.

Sojiro looked at him oddly, "Yeah. Shujin. The school the court ordered you to attend? Just because you're on probation doesn't mean you get to skimp out on education. Criminal or not, you'll be expected to do your part in society."

"It's not that," Akira shook his head. "I've just never been to a high-school. I've always been... homeschooled."

"Is that so…?"

During his time in the Kazuya family the older, smarter family members that had taken a shine to him would teach him some things every now and then to keep his mind sharp. Or, occasionally they would have a tutor stop by to help him brush up on some core subjects.

He wasn't exactly interested in going to school, but he obviously didn't have a choice in the matter. To be frank, he didn't have a choice in anything anymore. He just had to duck his head and do what he was told.

"Anyways. Don't cause a ruckus up here and disturb my customers" Sojiro warned him one last time before turning back to the staircase.

"Can't believe I have to waste my Sunday…" With that parting grumble, Sojiro descended back down the steps, disappearing from view.

Once the man was gone, Akira let out a tired withering sigh. He wasn't expecting a warm welcome, but this was a bit much.

Nothing he couldn't handle of course. He was no stranger to being despised by many people.

But he had never felt so… powerless. Even back when he was an errand boy, he always felt like he had control over what he did and how he did it. Now, in this new and unfamiliar city, all of that control of his life was gone. It was daunting, and he couldn't deny that it made his insides clench anxiously.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Akira dialed up one of his contacts.

On the fourth ring, there was an answer. "...Akira. It's good to hear from you. Did you find your way?"

Akira relaxed, happy to hear a familiar voice. "Yes, Hayama-aniki. Sakura-san gave me a room above his cafe."

"That old place huh? Guess that makes sense. You didn't give him a hard time, did you?"

"And risk losing my penthouse suite?" Sojiro may have been blunt and pricked at the wrong nerves, but he knew better than to mouth off to him. "No. I did not."

"...Cool headed as always, huh? Whatever. Since I've got you on the line, let me go over the rules while I have the time. I know you've heard it before, but it's important you keep this in mind."

Akira pressed the phone against his ear with a shoulder and began to clean up the room as best he could, multi-tasking with ease.

"The court's ruling is that you will stay in Tokyo and attend Shujin academy for a year of 'probation'. During that year, if any infractions are made against you, you will be tried fully for your crime. And that's any infraction," Hayama stressed. "You steal something, you get picked up by the police, if Sojiro kicks you out of the cafe… that will be enough for the police to put off all bets. If you do any of that I won't protect you anymore. I'll cut ties and let the court do as they please."

Akira involuntarily shivered as he took a mop to the dirty floor. It wasn't the first time he was told, but it still made him uneasy. Just one mistake and he would be on his own…

"Furthermore, if Sojiro reports that you're missing for longer than a day or if you're delinquent from school, that'll be grounds for arrest too. Same for being expelled."

Hayama finished with a sigh, the man's age coming across the phone in his tired voice. "Basically, for the next year you need to keep your head down. Don't do anything to attract attention, don't get involved with bad crowds. Just be a normal student. Do that, and you'll be fine."

"It's easier said than done."

"Bullshit. You got the glasses I gave you, right? At least with those you won't look like a Yakuza when you go to school."

Akira had nothing to say to that. Having no actual experience in a school, he couldn't be sure what to expect.

"You know the cover story too, right? Stick to it. Don't let anyone know you were part of the family. Especially not Sojiro. I barely convinced him to take you in, but if he knew you were part of the Yakuza it would be a moot point."

That brought up something that he had been wondering about…

As he set up the futon, he broached the subject, "Sojiro-san seems to know you. Do you two have history?"

"Hmm… Yeah I guess you could say that. I met Sojiro way back when I was still loansharking. We're hardly on good terms, but he owes me a favor so I managed to convince him to take you."

"What was the favor?"

Hayama's tinny voice over the speaker was contemplative, "I safeguarded something precious to him for a bit. It was a long time ago, but debts never really go away."

Akira raised a brow. How surprising. Sojiro didn't seem like the kind of guy to make deals with Yakuza. "Something precious? What, like jewelry? Money?"

"Not my place to say. I have my own standards you know. However, it was important enough to him for him to come begging for favors from a loan shark."

"I see… " He wasn't too clear on what this 'precious' thing was, but Hayama obviously deemed it something he didn't need to know. Going digging for it would probably cause more harm than good.

"If you're worrying about how much he knows, don't. Sojiro doesn't know about the Kazuya family. Right now all he thinks is that I'm an unscrupulous businessman, and that you're my younger brother who got into some trouble."

"Good to know."

If Hayama was ever bothered by his clipped, emotionless answers, he didn't show it. "Now, onto other matters. I…"

There was a sudden pause, unintelligible voices coming across the line while Akira continued to clean. When Hayama's voice returned, it was tinged with annoyance.

"Dammit. I need to let you go, Akira. We'll talk another time. Keep what I said in mind."

The line died without giving Akira a chance to say anything more. He plucked the phone from his ear and stared at his reflection in the black screen. Frowning, he stuffed the phone away and returned to his duty. With much of the cobwebs swept away and the windows dusted, the air had become just a little more breathable.

Now if only his throat didn't feel so tight.

…

Dusk had settled by the time the room was cleaned up. There was still noticeable clutter in certain corners, but he at least felt he could relax without feeling like some sort of recluse now. The floors were worn, but free of any dust or grime. The bed, now that it wasn't crowded with bags and boxes, actually looked rather comfortable.

The fan up above was lazily spinning, and strung up lights kept the room bright. Honestly, the room was really nice now. Like a cozy living room.

(A year here doesn't look too bad anymore…)

Akira rolled his shoulder and slipped his blazer off to drape it over the couch. Taking a seat to rest his eyes for a moment and let his mind meander his predicament once more. Hayama hadn't sent over a change of clothes yet, so he would just have to make do with the Shujin uniform for the night. Not that it really bothered him, he usually slept in his boxers anyway. However, he wasn't keen to strip just yet.

As if sensing his thoughts, Sojiro's head peeked over the railing of the stairs as he trudged up.

"Hey, I… Woah. I thought I heard you messing around up here, but I didn't really expect you to be cleaning the place up..."

"Well, I will be living here. It's only natural I'd want it clean. Would you like a tour?" Akira stood up smoothly, crossing his arms.

Sojiro merely sighed in aggravation, "...Cant believe that bastard saddled me with some cheeky brat."

"Anyway, I'm locking up for the night. You should get to bed, we'll be leaving in the morning and it'll be a pain if you end up sick just because you stayed up. You'll have to drag yourself to the doctor, are we clear?"

Did he have to be so blunt? It was obvious Sojiro didn't like his mere presence, but he could have at least pretended to not hate his guts.

"...Crystal."

Sojiro nodded absently to him then turned and exited the room. Akira remained standing where he was until he heard a distant chime and the sound of a door closing.

Any ounce of cordiality on his face evaporated in an instant. The fierce scowl of his came back as he stalked away from the stairs and sat on the bed, his back leaning wearily against the wall. His first instinct, of course, was to send something very fragile flying against the wall. But he had just cleaned the place, and he honestly didn't have it in him anymore to act out like that.

One moment was all it took to ruin his life. He wouldn't lose himself to his temper again.

With his head resting against the edge of the windowsill, he could turn his neck and gaze out the glass to see the shimmering stars of the building lights and billboards.

Part of him wanted to go out and prowl the city like he used to, but he knew he couldn't. Not only did he only have a school uniform, but if Sojiro returned and found him missing it would spell his doom. Once again, the choice was out of his hands.

With his forehead pressed against the cold glass, Akira shut his eyes and breathed deeply. Images of rainy storm clouds, venomous brown eyes, and a sheathed blade bubbling up in his mind.

Getting expelled from the family, leaving the city he grew up in… Now having to play a fake life, and attend school like a normal kid. It all felt wrong to him. Like a play that was missing acts.

Tussling his raven locks, Akira collapsed fully onto the futon— an arm and leg strewn over the side haphazardly while he stuffed his face into the pillow. If he kept thinking on this he would just keep himself awake all night. What's done is done. All that he could do now was adapt. Just like he'd been taught to.

In little time at all, he drifted off- his body finally relaxing fully for what felt like the first time in forever.

Akira jolted awake with a bang. His eyes flew open and he harshly gasped, his chest constricting and his limbs seizing violently. The air that assaulted his lungs was cold, and left him feeling like he had been dunked into an icy lake. The Ex-Yakuza member eyes wildly darted around, every ingrained instinct in his body on high alert.

Before his eyes, he was greeted by a suffocatingly dark room that was completely unrecognizable to the cozy loft he had fallen asleep in. The room was far larger than his room had been and shaped into a circle around him, the walls made up of some regal sculpted stone and what appeared to be cell doors. A thick miasma of dark mist filled the room, obfuscating his sight and only further strengthening how dark and oppressive the place felt.

Even the glaring fluorescent light hanging directly above did little to ease his nerves. Despite being so wide open, the room felt claustrophobic and suffocating.

However, what truly drew his attention was what was a good distance in front of him- a great deal of boxy, old television sets. CRT's, he believed. They were stacked atop one another or on askew tables, their blinking receiver sets beneath them and their cords stretching off into the darkness.

The screens of the CRT's themselves were a mess. Most of them only boasted a mess of static that undulated without any particular pattern. Others were just flat out dead, their screens black and unresponsive. But some of them had images on them. They flickered, as if running on lacking power, shifting between random people, objects, and places he couldn't recognize. The dizzying sight made his head throb.

There was one TV that stood out from the others. It was closer than the rest, off at his side where had to turn his neck to get a good look at it. It was set up on a rolling stand that placed it just above his head level. The sight on the screen made his blood run cold.

There on the screen, he saw himself, as if he were being recorded and the screen was just broadcasting the tape. Akira was strapped to a chair, his hands behind his back and his legs chained to the metal legs with thick cuffs. He wore a black and white prison uniform, his hair was wildly unkempt, and when he viciously writhed against his restraints the TV image did the same.

The TV screen showed his image from an angle that suggested it was being recorded above and to his right. But when he turned he found no camera.

"What the hell…?" He breathed, disbelief overriding his anxiety. "Is… is this a dream?"

He wanted to believe so, but the bite of the chains against his ankles and wrists made it difficult.

"Hello?" he tentatively called out to the darkness.

For a moment, no answer was forthcoming. All he could hear was the heavy thud of his heart in his chest. Yet, when he was about to call out again, steps rang out. Light ones that clacked against the stone ground and echoed against the walls.

Akira's eyes widened when two forms stepped out of the darkness on either side of the wall of TV's. Their steps carried them in front of them so they could stand side by side in full view.

They appeared to be young girls, barely taller than four feet, with snow white hair tucked into matching blue hats. They wore wadern uniforms of the same ethereal blue hue that complimented the strange surroundings. Each of them wore an eye patch embroidered with an elegant V, but the eyes that were visible had haunting yellow iris' that pierced into his soul like a knife.

They looked like they were almost mirror images of each other. However, the lettering on their hats, their hairstyles (Hair buns and a braid), and their ties differed from each other.

Their unnerving stares made him sweat anxiously. However, he dared not show it. He only glared at them, his stare demanding answers. They made absolutely no reaction to the leer, only continuing to pierce him with those otherworldly eyes before, in perfect sync, turning on the spot and stepping away from each other.

Akira blinked. His attention was so affixed on the two twins that he hadn't noticed the wall of TV's abruptly change their image. Instead of static or random pictures, the TV's now had a single image spread out across all of them like they were one great big set.

The image was of a similar room to this one, however the light in their was much brighter and far more appealing to the eyes. The room was mostly blank save for the exquisite wooden desk in the center of the sets. A beautiful lamp and a quill rested on the surface.

Sitting behind that desk, was the strangest man Akira had ever seen. He appeared to be an old man, though he lacked wrinkles. His head was balding and hair that did flow down his shoulders was the same stark white as those twins. His eyes bulged uncomfortably beneath his willowy brows, his nose stretched out past his face more than was natural, and his mouth seemed perpetually locked into a knowing grin. He wore a prim black suit, and white gloves that concealed far too long fingers.

When the image settled on the man music began to play from the TV's. Truthfully, the music was beautiful. Even playing from all those sets at once, it was in such perfect sync that it might as well have been playing from one. The music was as regal and ethereal, the melodic tone serving to calm him slightly.

(Opera music?)

Though it seemed impossible, the man's eyes locked with his through the screen. He presented a gloved hand to him, and spoke through his grin.

"Trickster… Welcome to my Velvet Room."

His voice was deep, and echoed through space. The moment the man spoke, any pretense of calm Akira had broke.

He tugged at his chain, yanking his arms even as he felt just how tightly they held him. He did not like being helpless like this. He didn't know who this man was, but he had a feeling he was responsible for putting him here.

"It's about time you've come to, inmate." A haughty voice at his side made him flinch. Akira whipped his head around, only just now realizing the twins were now on either of his side.

The girl who spoke, the one with buns on either side of her head, leveled him with a glare from her only eye.

"Do not be alarmed. The you in reality is currently fast asleep." The other girl's voice was level, and her gaze was decidedly impassive. She simply had no meaningful expression. "You are experiencing this only as a dream."

(Reality? A dream? No… No matter how I look at this, it's too real to be a dream.)

The man on the screen spoke again. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Trickster. I am sure you are confused."

"...Where am I?"

He seemed amused by his furious glare. "This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter… As I have no doubt you have already figured out, this is no mere dream. At least, not by your definitions."

The otherworldly man laid a hand across the smooth table, the fingers rhythmically bouncing across the wood as he rested his cheek on a fist. His grin widened, and Akira snarled at him.

"It is a room where only those bound by a 'contract' may enter, and I am its master. You may call me Igor."

Akira felt it was fitting, but he really wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"I summoned you to discuss important matters. It involves your life as well."

"Un. Tie. Me." Akira bit out, tugging against his restraints again. He didn't care who this man was, nor did he have any interest in talking about things while he was strapped to a chair.

"Watch your mouth inmate!" The brusque girl advanced on him, a baton suddenly appearing in her hand that she promptly swung at him. Akira flinched, but the weapon only coasted just by his ear instead of outright bludgeoning him. Even still, the threat was clear, and Akira was forced to bite down on his growing fury.

He had to remember he wasn't in control right now. He was at these peoples mercy. Pissing his captors off was probably a bad idea. Torture or murder were not far from the realm of possibility.

And yet, this was a dream wasn't it? Igor had said as much, and if he were to be believed then this went way beyond a simple kidnapping. Summoning in a dream…

(Supernatural? I don't want to believe it, but it's hard to deny too.)

"I understand your unease, Trickster. After all…" Igors bead gaze roamed the room, "This is a very unfortunate form for the Velvet Room to take. The state of this room reflects the state of your own heart, after all."

He tried to understand. He really did. But it was such an absurd claim that he was left momentarily speechless, his dry mouth working to come up with some response that his brain just couldn't formulate.

"I don't think I like TV that much." Akira finally grunted. The other twin turned to regard him with her cold look.

Igor only chuckled, "You may take it as you like."

Igor was running circles around him with his vague way of talking. He had answered his question, technically, yet his explanation made absolutely no sense. Igor brought about a strange feeling, as if the man was hiding nothing from him yet was still keeping him in the dark somehow.

What looked like an interrogation on a bound teenanger felt more like an obtusely intricate game of chess between the two. Not for the first time, Akira questioned Igor's intentions.

"...Why am I here?"

"Because ruin approaches."

Akira leveled him with an incredulous look.

"I speak of the end of everything. The ruin of all things material and immaterial. The end of the world, if you like. However… there is a means to oppose such a fate."

Even bound, confused, and scared out of his wits, Akira could see where this was going. "...Me."

"Indeed. The world's fate weighs in your hands, Trickster. As such, you must be 'rehabilitated'. Rehabilitated toward freedom. That is the only means to avoid the ruin that awaits you. To that end, perhaps a cell is a fitting setting."

The end of the world… Akira didn't want to believe it. He wanted to brush it aside as the ramblings of a madman. Yet there was no deceit in his tone, and Akira couldn't find it in himself to not believe his words.

Because, ultimately, disbelief served no purpose. If he were to deny the circumstances and deny the fact that it all felt so real, he would be fooling no one but himself. This was reality. Perhaps a warped and unimaginable version of it, but reality all the same.

He wouldn't believe him. Not outright. But he would listen, and try to find the truth. The real truth.

"I wonder if you have the resolve to see to the end of ruin. I will take great interest in observing your rehabilitation."

(Damn it all… What the hell is going on? Ruin? Rehabilitation? Trickster? He's just giving me more and more questions!)

The two twins abruptly turned to him, their glowing eyes locked with his own. The bun haired girl leveled her stern look of disgust, while the braided one simply blinked hollowly.

"Ah, pardon me for not introducing the others. To your right, Caroline; to your left, Justine. They shall serve as wardens during your stay."

Calling them waderns only solidified the prison-like image the room had. Having such young-looking girls imprisoning him left a bad taste in his mouth.

Justine tilted her head, as if reading his thoughts. "The duty of wardens is chiefly to protect inmates. We are your collaborators in name."

Caroline hefted her baton onto a shoulder, "Only if you remain obedient, inmate. So don't step outta line!"

"Indeed."

These two really rubbed him the wrong way. Caroline seemed liable to lash out in anger at the drop of a hat, and Justine had such a hard demeanor that he could hardly tell what was going through her head. He had never felt so put-off by children before. Then again, nothing about this room made sense. He couldn't even be sure they were children.

Igor chuckled at his predicament. "It seems the night is waning. Our meeting must be cut short. Take your time to come to grips with your situation." For a moment their eyes locked, "We will surely meet again, and I will do my utmost to answer your questions."

At once, the screens blanked out. The image of igor disappeared, replaced with the static and nonsense. Akira could only frown. All of the questions he had were going unanswered for now, and just trying to think about them was making his head hurt.

Loud ringing overtook the room, emanating somewhere overhead.

"Times up," Caroline said, standing beside her twin once more. "Hurry up and go back to sleep already!"

Akira sank into his chair, but his expression did not ease. He would get his answers. One way or another.

The black mist rolled back in, this time overtaking everything. The darkness grew heavier and heavier until Akira finally drifted off.

A/N:

Right, so, heres a sort of new story. I began working on this around the same time I began The Show Must Go On, but I never quite got around to getting much of it done.

As you can tell, its a Persona 5 and Yakuza crossover, with Akira being an expelled Yakuza member. When I went into writing this I wanted to have the video-game aesthetics of Yakuza more pronounced than other fanfictions normally would. Thats why heat actions are prominent.

Whenever you see an

X

That means a heat action is being activated. How innovative.

Also, some of you readers familiar with different anime might recognize some of the characters ive used so far. Cheers to you if you did.

Anyway, this was just something I was working on the side. It will be a long time before new chapters will be coming along for it. I do have a basic plot sketched out for it, but The Show Must Go On has my focus right now and I dont want to ignore that story for this one.

I wanted to get this published though. At least to see how readers feel about it and find out if its actually worth continuing. And to prove that im not dead and still working hard.

Thats that on that. Thanks for reading.