Chapter 7: Deal and No Deal

Iwai Munehisa catches himself with a bad case of the Monday Blues in the second week of April. It's been cloudy all morning, and even though the sun's come up now this late in the afternoon, business is still slower than conveyor belt sushi when you're really craving convenience store. Didn't help that there'd been cops snooping around the area lately, and the dogs always came sniffing around old family ties.

The only ties Mune had left to Hashiba were a couple of gangrenous limbs he'd rather get amputated. But nothing he could do within the code to get away from them. Not without risk. And when you've pulled out of the business, you start juggling risk like a circus clown juggles pins.

The bell chimes, and his eyes flick up to gauge if he should be ready for verbal sparring or easy schmoozing. His eyes fall back to the magazine between his hands when the newcomer's just some girl. With those black curls all tied up in a bun, all she was missing was a set of square glasses and she'd be a dead ringer for a young librarian. What the hell she was doing in an airsoft shop was, ironically, none of his damn business.

"Any recommendations?" He hears her talking to him over the counter, but doesn't move from his spot.

"Just grab whatever interests you." He pointedly turns to the next page of his magazine, ignoring the clicking tongue he hears as she walks away. The bell doesn't ring again, so at least she's willing to browse.

Mune lets himself relax after a few moments, since the girl doesn't seem interested in causing trouble, but old habits have him tracking her as she goes over his wares. Passing over the premade models like they're not even there.

"If you're lookin' for something cheap, go somewhere else," he says languidly, turning to the next page.

"I'm on a budget, but I'm not skimping on quality." Girl's got respect for the craft, then. Maybe he'd misjudged her.

He closes the magazine and sets it down beneath the counter, watching her. The girl's frowning, with steely grey eyes picking apart his merchandise like she's doing frog dissection for school. She's a little old for the comparison though—

Now those eyes are glaring at him, and the set of her jaw isn't nothin' to sneeze at. Yeah, definitely misjudged this broad.

"I'm looking for something I can use for protection."

Mune rolls his eyes, shifting his posture. "This is an airsoft shop, girlie. You're not going to find anything with real ammo—"

"I know that," she says, cutting him off. Brass pair on this dame. "I mean, I need something that'll make a grown man back off when he sees it. I'm not exactly loaded at the moment, so I was looking for a model set of something that fits the bill."

She talks with confidence of a customer who knows exactly what they want, and she's got the specifics down to a level of detail that she's not satisfied with the goods on display.

"You an enthusiast?" he asks, lifting his voice up a bit from its usual gravel to show he's actually taking her seriously now.

She turns away, looking at the Tkachev on the shelf. "I owned a model back home. I never needed to bring it out, but it gave me confidence I needed to feel secure."

"What's a girl like you gotta be so worried about that you need to look like you're packing iron?" He looks at similar, higher-grade models of that type. "Makarov more your fancy?"

"Let's just say I'm used to walking late at night." Well shit! No wonder the girl's got ice coming out of both shoulders. "Riot Police. How's the family?"

She says it like it's nothing. Like they should know each other. And that gun? Mune stopped believing in coincidences after he became a father.

"Who's asking?" He doesn't miss the way her shoulders sink. Wrong answer, walker?

"Nobody. I just know what I'm looking at when it's right in front of me." Her eyes flick away from the guns and stop briefly at his face. "Nice tattoo."

She can't really think the Gecko has anything to do with— "It's personal. I run an honest business, you know."

"Legit?"

"Depends who's asking, but the pigs sure think so." He stuffs his hands in his pockets, show her it takes more than some barely-older-than-teenaged girl to intimidate him. At this point, she's proven she's harmless, even if she was sent by a family.

She clicks her tongue. "How about a trade, then? I'm no fan of barn animals myself." No shit.

"Depends what you're askin' for, and what you think a high school dropout can do for me."

She turns to him with a smirk that's a little too sharp. "I'm actually still in high school, you know. I'm sixteen, for the next month and a half."

That almost takes the sucker right out of his mouth. "That a joke? Had you figured for twenty, easy."

She turns back to the guns like that little exchange never happened. "I get that a lot. Work makes you age quicker, you know?" Jesus fucking Christ. "I want the Riot Police, and I'll trade you some info for it for a discount."

He crosses his arms and takes a second to consider it. "I don't have a kit on hand for you at that kinda price, but depending on the information, we might be able to settle on something."

"Is that a deal?" Her eyes flick back up at him. This girl's good. Those greys are ice cold.

"It's a deal. You can take the Tkachev, premade, as a loan. Show o' good faith between friends."

Her eyes shine with something happy, and she takes the box with the completed model off the shelf. "Here's my end, then. There's a sale on pork going on, right now, just across the street."

Well damn, that's good info. "'Ppreciate the heads up. I'll find a way to keep the smell out."

"What do I owe you?" She hefts the box under her arm a little.

"For that tip? Take it. But I'm expecting you back soon so we can work out the price for the Riot Police." And here he was already making one custom for that piece of shit.

"I'll see you in a week, then." There's that smile again, canines just a little too sharp to make the average Joe comfortable, and she's outta there.

They never even exchanged names, but they can settle that in a week. Time to settle in for another grilling session with the local pigs in suits.

He laughs lowly and shakes his head. 'Sale on pork', huh? First time he's heard that one.

Akira lets herself grin as she crosses back onto Central Street with her premade model steal in a bag on her arm. She ducks around the plainclothes cops hanging outside the DVD rental place, making her way towards 777. She still has some errands to run.

She couldn't sit still in her room at Leblanc after everything that happened. She needed to get moving, feel pavement under her feet, and work off her energy. A nail came off her finger and she spit it onto the sidewalk without a care. She has too much to think about to worry who saw her being 'improper'.

Sojiro had been understanding about letting her out, but he'd given her a strict curfew: back in Leblanc at sundown and no later. A bit tight, but that gave her a few hours to spend her new disposable income.

She hadn't known quite how, but she knew she walked away from that castle with more money on her than she went in with. She'd checked the bank app on her phone, and found several mysterious deposits into her account that were mostly untraceable. Akira pulls out her phone and examines her newly refurbished homescreen. A gaudy red-eye app pulses in the corner, as if begging for use. Somehow, that app—a navigation app, however it's supposed to work—makes deposits directly to her bank account based on what she did on the other side. This same app that activated that morning. Presumably, the thing that sent her and Ann-kun into Kamoshida's castle to begin with.

5000 yen isn't exactly chump change when you're still transitioning into a new living situation. Akira had been prepared to put every last piece down in bartering for the model gun, but it seems the yakuza running the place is as pissy with the cops as her.

Maybe he was serious about being former yakuza. Plenty of families run 'legitimate' businesses, but an honest business was harder to come by. She doesn't think he was lying though, and she didn't recognize the gecko tattoo on his neck. Maybe she'll ask his name next time she's in.

Stepping into 777, Akira takes a brief moment to marvel how each store is the same, from Nakai to Tokyo. Linoleum aisles too small to get lost in, Akira heads to where she knows the hygiene products will be. She couldn't stop that morning to brush her teeth after eating breakfast and the lack of disposable brushes in her bag has been driving her nuts since. She's already popped one in her mouth and started scrubbing the feeling out of her mouth and the thoughts out of her head as she grabs a bottle of mouthwash and heads to the counter. She tosses the used brush into the bin and sets her items down to be rung up.

The girl working the counter looks like she needs a nap, but then, anyone looks a little tired in the bright pink uniforms 777 insists on. She rings up Akira's items quickly. "1180 yen is your total."

Akira hands over her card with a smile. "Thank you," she looks down to her nametag, "Shibuya-san."

The girl sighs as she takes the card. "It's okay, get your yucks out now. 'Shibuya working in Shibuya,' haha, I've heard it all." She sounds as tired as she looks.

Akira frowns, small but purposeful. "I wasn't going to laugh. You're SHI-bu-ya, working in Shi-BU-ya. It's hardly worth making fun of."

Shibuya's eyes light up, and she grins. "Finally, someone gets it! I have to make small talk with every wannabe comedian thinking they can use my name to break the ice."

Akira shakes her head. "That must be rough. You've the patience of a saint, Shibuya-kun."

She hands Akira back her card. "You flatter me… Akira-chan," she says, reading off the name on her card.

Akira slides her card into her wallet and looks back up at Shibuya. "I'll see about coming back around more often, give you someone to vent to."

The cashier waves her off, saying, "Oh, don't bother coming around for my sake—"

"I want to. I know how much it helps to have someone to just chat on the clock with." Akira shoots her a conspiratorial wink.

Shibuya giggles. "Well, you've certainly got the Charm for retail."

"You know what the Americans say, 'Boss makes a dollar, I make a dime,'" Akira trails off.

"I don't know that one, but I'm sure it's good. Come by again soon, Akira-chan!"

As eager as Akira is to put her new mouthwash to use, there is still more she needs to do before returning to Leblanc. The Discount Store had… something to meet her needs, but truly at a discount, it seemed too cheap for her blood. A quick Google search brings her down to the Underground Mall beneath Central Street, the place lined wall to wall with small shops bustling with customers and people of all ages meandering and loitering about.

Akira pushes her way through, ignoring the press of bodies around her as she stops in front of the place she'd found online. Rafflesia. Certainly memorable, but the image of the corpse-smelling monster of a plant doesn't exactly endear a prospective customer like Akira.

"Come in! What would you like?" The florist's smile is bright enough to wipe away that impression.

Akira lets her eyes wander to the baskets, pots, and beds of flowers strung up on every inch of the shop. "You've got a hell of a collection here." Her eyes flicker to the woman's nametag.

"Thank you!" Hanasaki's eyes thin with delight for how high her smile raises her cheeks. "As you can see, we grow all our flowers here ourselves. See anything that catches your interest?"

Akira lets her eyes fall to a small batch of Freesias. "I was mostly looking for something to brighten up my new room a bit." She lets herself smile softly. "I read a book on flower language in middle school, so I may have gotten a little obsessed with bouquet messages."

"Oh, that sounds wonderful! You know, if you ever have the time, there's an opening for hiring, if you'd like to work with us."

"I'd like that. Should I call you Hanasaki-senpai, if I do?"

She giggles. "I've always loved my name. It's part of why I've always loved flowers to begin with."

"That's a nice story," Akira says, her smile growing wider. "Maybe I'll take you up on that, after I've settled in. Mind if I get a Sweetpea, Gerbera, and Sage in a vase?"

"'May beloved memories guide you on your adventure towards a happy future'!" Hanasaki interprets, right on the money. "Coming right up! Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Akira scratches at the back of her head, beneath her hair tie. "Well, I have this potted plant in my room, and I figured I may as well put the work into taking care of it. Got any fertilizer? I tried looking around, but I only found the cheap stuff."

"We've got Bio-Nutrients bags selling for 1200 yen a piece, if you're looking to buy."

"Sounds great! I'll take two. My total?"

Hanasaki rings her up. "I'd be willing to throw the flowers in for free if you promise to come back around and tell me how they're doing. I love hearing from customers how their purchases are coming along."

Akira grins. "Sounds like a deal to me." She hands over her card.

Hanasaki returns her card and purchases with a smile. "Please come again."

The sky's turned twilight by the time Akira returns to Leblanc. Sojiro looks up at her with narrowed eyes. "Enjoy your walk?"

She smiles and hoists her purchases. "Had a productive time."

"Shopping, really?" He scratches at the back of his head incredulously.

"Spending money relieves stress, y'know? I had some spare cash, and…" She looks away. "I needed something to feel better."

The man sighs, and nods to the stairs. "Head on up to your room and settle in. I'll be closing up in a bit, if you care to learn more about how I run this place."

"Thanks Sakura-san—I mean, Boss."

"Good girl."

The attic bedroom is really starting to look less attic and more bedroom, as Akira sets down her bags on the three-layered shelving unit next to whatever the plant is Sojiro had left abandoned up here. The leaves are dry and brittle, the bark paler than she thinks healthy. It looks a little like a sort of palm, she thinks as she mixes the first bag of Bio-Nutrients into the dirt.

The vase for the flowers from Rafflesia is a simple glass thing, which Akira appreciates considering it was free. She would have insisted on paying for the flowers if Hanasaki had given her something fancier than basic. Akira steps back to take in the splash of color the blue and yellows add to the corner desk of her room.

The place is still so empty, but it's not like she can afford to spend on more luxuries than she already has.

Sojiro calls her back downstairs, but he's looking at her strangely. "Yesterday I got to see how you operate, and there's still some of the curry you made left. That can be your dinner for tonight. Until then, I want you to watch what I'm doing."

Akira nods, and he nods back, before setting about making coffee. She watches his deliberate and meticulous motions, playing out how she'd do it in her mind. When the cup is done, he sets it out in front of her with a smile. "I'm gonna heat up that curry for ya. Have a taste."

She takes the small cup into her hand, taking a delicate sip. The flavor is rich on her tongue, and the aroma wafts to her nose, a powerful and enticing smell. "This is good!"

"That's Jamaican Blue Mountain. Grown high-quality in the volcanic soil and unique climate of the Blue Mountains of Jamaica. A classic cup."

"Can't wait to make some for myself."

Sojiro chuckles, "Heh, you like it that much, maybe I'll fill a thermos of it for tomorrow. Start the morning off right, that's what I always say."

Akira grins snidely as he places her dinner down in front of her. "Because your customers start their mornings off right by coming to you, right, Boss?"

He huffs, "Smart kid."

When Akira opens her eyes after laying down for the night, she's discomfited by the sight of blue. The voices of the girls from last night echo into her cell as she shuffles forward to the bars.

"About time you've come to!" Caroline shouts in what is rapidly becoming what Akira expects is her usual candor.

"Our Master wishes to speak with you. It's for your own sake that you take his words to heart," Justine follows up.

"If Igor didn't wish to speak with me, girls, I don't imagine I'd be here right now, would I?" Akira tries to sound softer than usual, but tired irritation slips off her tongue regardless.

Igor cuts in like a man used to running the show. "First off, let us celebrate our reunion." What's there to celebrate, asshole? "Oh…?" He cocks his head again, the same way he did when examining the prison around them. "You've awakened to your powers—and special ones at that."

"Powers? Plural? You're not just talking about Judith…"

"There is no need to understand it all for the time being," Igor continues unabated. "You will be training the power of Persona, which you have awakened to. Personas are, in other words, a 'mask'—an armor of the heart when confronting worldly matters. I have high expectations of you."

"Cut the bullshit. You can't just start explaining Personas and act like you aren't hiding anything from me. And don't call Judith a 'mask'!" Something furious bubbles in her chest, and she lets it roil forth. "Judith is a part of me, not just some trumped up metaphor! I don't know anything about this shit, but I know that much! Stop acting like you're so above it all!"

Igor shakes his head. "There is no need to worry. You will learn when the time comes." He crosses his limbs over, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his hands changing places under his chin. "By the by… have you come to appreciate the Metaverse Navigator? Using it will allow you to come and go between reality and palaces."

"That app… what do you know about it?" Akira demands.

"I bestowed it to you as a means to train you as a thief."

"You want me to steal shit? I mean, I can get behind that, but why?"

The girls do their usual thing of reaffirming Igor's words to her. It hurts to hear them parroting him so much, whether it's Caroline's loud resentment or Justine's quiet resignation.

Igor, it seems, has picked up on the expression on her face. "It must be disheartening to make use of the Metaverse Navigator alone. Should there be others who would prove beneficial to you, I will grant it to them as well."

"You're just handing these things out like candy? Do you ask them to get into your van, too?" Akira asks with a sneer.

"There will be a time when others like yourself awaken to similar powers. To thwart the coming ruin is the purpose of your rehabilitation. However, such a task is too weighty to be carried out by oneself. You must find those who will support you in your training as a thief, even partners in crime, to reach your goal. To work alone would be to guarantee the failure to achieve your ambitions."

"My ambitions? I don't have any ambitions, you blowhard! You won't even tell me what this 'coming ruin' is! You expect me to just take you at your word?"

"Ah, what you ask for is, in an older tongue, a quid pro quo. I have asked for you to take on this mission, and in return you ask for a boon. I can grant you whatever you desire, so long as you are aware that the ruin will come, heedless of your actions, unless you oppose it directly." His smile widens. Akira hates his fucking smile.

"Do we have a deal?" He offers his hand, upturned, as if expecting her to take it from across the distance between his desk and her barred door.

"No deal."

Caroline gasps in shock. "Inmate! How dare you reject our Master's generous offer!" She smacks her little baton against the bars, but Akira doesn't let the shocks faze her.

She turns her eyes back to the long-nosed creep at his desk throne. "Let me make this clear for you, Igor. I don't like you. I don't think I'll ever like you. You've got me locked in a cell while you sit at your desk, looking down your ridiculous nose at me and then acting like the good guy. All while you have two little girls standing guard.

"You're a twisted fuck, and I couldn't trust you as far as my arms can reach through these bars. You say you'll train me to be a thief? Then listen to this:"

"Anything you have to give me, I'll just take for myself."

And staring defiantly at her jailer's ugly mug, time freezes, and that same voice calls out.

I am thou, thou art I, thou hast acquired a new vow.

It shall become the sound of rebellion that heraldeth thy age of salvation.

With the birth of the Empress Arcana, I have obtained the song of blessing that shall sing of freedom and new power…

The girls' eyes turn to their Master as he begins to laugh, tucking his chin in before throwing his arms out, hollering with some giddy humor.

"Such inscrutable rebellion," he exclaims, speaking through his laughter. "Truly, you alone are the Trickster of Fate. Very well, Empress, you may take this power I offered freely, under your own will. You will surely be a most entertaining inmate." His laughter quiets, and he tucks his hand under his chin once more. "But remember, the path to rehabilitation shall be fraught with peril. Such defiance serves you well now, but I will always be watching you, Trickster."

A/N:

A bit of a downtime chapter, with Akira going shopping and stuff. She's under a lot of stress right now! But money solves all problems, and she happened to get quite the windfall in Kamoshida's Palace.

Speaking of the Metaverse, Akira gets some exposition dumping courtesy of Igor. She doesn't like him. Big surprise!

This chapter is a bit rougher, I was reallyg cutting it under the wire to publish today, but I don't regret it! I hope you enjoy!

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/9XG3U7a