5/29

Ryuji stretches his arms up, until they pop, and settles his hands behind his head with a satisfied yawn. "This," he states, a lazy grin on his face, his eyes shut, "is more like it."

Ann's face lacks his enthusiasm. "I thought you wanted to celebrate?"

He slides one eye open. "We are celebratin'."

"At Big Bang Burger? Last time we went to a fancy hotel."

"Uh, yeah, and remember how well that turned out?" His voice hitches on the last few syllables.

Two blonde heads turn nervous looks towards Akira, who keeps his face buried in the menu, pretending to not have heard. "Sure are a lot of options," he mutters.

Morgana, from where he sits - curled and hidden in Akira's lap - extends a paw and pats a picture of a mass of meat. "I want that."

"You're not going to eat the whole thing."

"Yes, I will."

"I think this burger is bigger than you. It's actually impossible."

Morgana bristles. "You should have some faith. I can definitely do it."

Ryuji, satisfied he has not offended his friend, turns back to Ann. "Besides, this place is more our style. It's filled with the people the Phantom Thieves are fighting for."

She swats his shoulder, and hisses, "Keep your voice down."

Ryuji makes a show of rubbing his arm. "Ow, relax. Look around. No one's listening." His eyes roll over the clientele. "And I'm not wrong. Remember how those rich assholes treated us? But here we are. No one's giving us dirty looks. No one's questioning our right to be here."

Akira can't help himself. "It is a fast food joint, Ryuji."

Yusuke glances up from his own menu. "I've been meaning to ask, what about this food makes it 'fast?'"

Ann rests her cheek on her fist. "They make it in a hurry, so people can eat it in a hurry."

Yusuke purses his lips. "Curious they would not wish to savor it."

The waitress arrives. She carries a tray stacked with glasses filled with water. Once she's set them, everyone places their orders, and Akira acquiesces to Morgana's request for a 'Behemoth Burger.'

As the waitress heads to the kitchen, Ryuji lifts his water and holds it aloft.

"Here's to," and his voice drops to a whisper, "taking down Madarame."

Ann takes up hers'. "Here's to Kamoshida getting what he deserves."

Yusuke smiles and follows suit. "Here's to the expression of the artist, and the baring of one's soul."

Akira grins. "Here's to the weird stuff Yusuke says." They clink their glasses.

A soft vibration sounds from Yusuke's pocket. He pulls out his phone, and his eyes widen. "Excuse me for a moment, friends." He stands and scoots away.

Ryuji watches him walk away. "You don't think that's Madarame, do you?"

Ann bites her lip. "Geez, I never considered he might actually call Yusuke. You don't think he'll say anything, do you?"

Akira shakes his head. Ann might not have considered it, but Akira had warned Yusuke of the possibility. He'd been clear. Yusuke could express shock, anger, heartbreak, whatever he wanted. But he could give away nothing that linked him to the change of heart. Nothing that linked him to the Phantom Thieves.

"He's weird," Akira says. "But he's not stupid. He won't say anything."

Morgana bobs his head. "Akira's right. Besides, you know how Yusuke is. If he does get upset, he'll just paint or something."

Yusuke returns shortly, eyes glazed, phone hanging from a limp hand. "You okay, bro?" Ryuji asks, as the boy slides back into his seat.

A smile breaks his face. "That was Kosei. The Principal, in fact. My expulsion has been revoked. Madarame called him, and confessed to everything." A short, choked laugh escapes his lips. "I can even keep my scholarship, and I can stay in the dorms."

"That's great," Ann says, and everyone goes about agreeing.

Yusuke dips his head forward. "I knew it would work. The change of heart, I mean. But to have this confirmation, and be free of this burden?" He wipes his face on his sleeve. "Thank you, my friends, for helping me."

Ryuji reaches out and pats him on the shoulder. "Wasn't nothin' man. We'd do it again in a second."

"That's right," Morgana replies. "You're one of us, remember?"

Yusuke nods. "Thank you. A thousand times!" He lifts a hand into the air, signaling the waitress.

She arrives and asks, "Is there anything else I can get you?"

"Madam," Yusuke proclaims. "My buoyancy knows no bounds today! I would like to buy everyone in this establishment a burger."

"Wait, what?" Akira asks.

Ryuji's jaw drops. "What're you doing?"

Yusuke sweeps his gaze over them. "This is cause for celebration. Further celebration. Burgers, I say." He stands, and throws his arms wide. "Burgers for everyone."

Morgana mumbles to Akira, "I hope you've got enough in your wallet."

Akira sighs, but keeps his smile. "Me too."

#

Yusuke drags his feet down Central, one hand on Ryuji's shoulder. His face is pale. His moan is perpetual, but barely audible above the clamor of the crowd.

Ryuji rolls his eyes. "C'mon, dude. I told you not to eat the whole thing. A Deluxe Bacon and Bleu Cheese is way too much for you to handle right now."

Ann waits ahead of them, hands on her hips, scowl on her face. "Then you shouldn't have let him order it."

Ryuji glares back. "I didn't hear you protesting. He's a big boy, he can order what he wants." He calls back to Akira, "How's Mona?"

Akira stares down at the cat, who staggers his way down the sidewalk, breath coming in ragged gasps. "I think he's regretting not listening to me," he replies. He lowers the carryout bag to Morgana's eye level, and shakes it. "Keep up. We've got to get this back to LeBlanc's fridge."

"So... filling," Morgana whispers.

"So... tasty," Yusuke mutters.

Akira shakes his head. "I told you it was too big."

Morgana bumps into his leg. "Just need to... center myself."

"Center yourself?" Akira asks, and Morgana nods, then groans at the movement. "Right, okay." He kneels down, scoops the cat up - who makes a pained, belching sound - and sets him on his shoulder. "We're never going to get back at this rate."

"F-fine," the cat mumbles. "Just don't move too fast."

Yesterday, we fought a giant monster and lived. Today, we've been reduced by oversized burgers.

The gang stumbles their way into Shibuya proper, and hurl themselves into the shuffle. They're about to enter the Station's entrance, when Ryuji, who turns to glance back at the others, stops.

"Uh, guys," he says, and points.

They turn. Across from Shibuya Station sits a skyscraper whose facade features numerous screens typically reserved for important broadcasts and music videos.

The gray face of Madarame peers down at them.

That he is so huge is unsettling. His eyes are wide and misty, and he sits behind a table lined with microphones.

"My name is Ichiryusai Madarame." His voice booms between buildings. "I have achieved fame as an artist, not just in Japan, but around the world. I am here today to confess that this fame is built on a lie."

Shibuya draws a collective breath, and Akira looks to find many with their eyes glued to the screens.

Morgana's claws tighten on his shoulders.

"I have lied to the public. I have cheated my students, and covered up terrible deeds." His eyes fall towards the tabletop, and his mouth sputters soundless for a few moments. "None of the work for which I am known, not a single piece, is my own. Every painting I claim is stolen from one of my students. My most famous piece, the Sayuri was, in fact, painted by a woman who was once very dear to me." His face scrunches up. "She died. An event I failed to stop, and may have even contributed to. I then tarnished her memory by stealing her work." He lets out a long breath and leans forward, as if the words are knives slicing his insides. When his head lifts, tears run from his eyes. "I'm sorry. To everyone I hurt. I'm sorry for every lie I ever told. I'm going to take responsibility. I will provide an accounting of all those I've stolen from, so that I might repair some of the lives I've ruined. I will confess everything to the proper authorities. I will make things right, even if it takes the remainder of my miserable life." He opens his mouth as if to say more, but only sobs. "I'm sorry," he mutters. "I'm sorry."

The camera switches off.

Akira turns to Yusuke, who watches the black screen. His lip quivers. "Hey," Akira says, and walks up to him. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Y-yeah," Ann tells him. She rests a hand on the boy's shoulder, and gently pulls him towards the station. His eyes narrow and cloud. "It's okay," Ann says. "It's okay, Yusuke. We've got you."

#

The news tears across the city. It slithers into online forums, plasters itself across the screen of every computer, smartphone, and tablet.

Soon, it is not a thing people are talking about. It is the thing people are talking about. Within minutes of Madarame's confession, all of Tokyo knows. And they speak it, loud whereas before they only suggested it in whispers between confidants. They say it many different ways, but it all means the same thing.

"The Phantom Thieves are real."

#

Madarame stares at the small imperfections in the table's wood. He runs his fingers over them, feeling the bumps with non-calloused hands. This is nice, he thinks. To focus on something small. Unimportant. He wonders if this is how so many other people feel, frequently. It has been so long since he's really looked at anything and been taken by it.

"Madarame-san." His attorney's voice is near manic. "I have to urge you, again to reconsider this."

Prison, Madarame thinks. I'll have plenty of time to study the walls in prison. He smiles at the thought, though he cannot say why. This must be what it feels like, to be empty.

It is not unpleasant.

"I've made up my mind." His words are quiet, but firm. He can still feels the trails the tears mapped across his face. "My funds, all of them, will be dispersed to my apprentices. My properties will be sold. My assets, liquidated. I know this is a lengthy process, so I would like you to begin at once. I want these Trusts established before the end of June."

His attorney frowns, and sighs. "I will see to it, then. But-" and he gestures to the waiting police officer, who stands in the corner, patient, face blank. "There's a better way to do this. A cleaner way."

Madarame shakes his head and pushes himself away from the table. They are in a Green Room for the studio that hosted his confession. Madarame had called the police himself and requested they bring him in. Perhaps out of respect for his position, they insisted on holding off until his affairs were in order.

"Perhaps, but this is the right way. I deserve incarceration, after everything I've done." He stands. "I'm ready, officer."

The policeman nods, and approaches. Madarame turns his back, and presents his hands.

The click of the steel along his wrists feels oddly satisfying. "Well then, let's be off," he says.

The officer sets a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Right this way, sir."

His attorney trails them as they exit. A number of station personnel line the hall, craning their necks to look at him.

This is for the best, he reminds himself. The students will get what they deserve.

When they step out from the studio, a crowd descends on them. Cameras from unaffiliated stations zoom into his face. Reporters shove microphones towards his mouth. Spectators and ill-wishers line the sidewalk. The latter shout curses and incriminations.

This all washes over him like so much water.

He glances up at the sky. It is a clear day. A sunny, blue-skied afternoon.

It is beautiful.

Well, Chisako, he thinks. It took a very long time, but I finally did the right thing.

He remembers her smile, the eagerness with which she worked, the love she bore for her art and her son. He remembers the long hours the two of them would spend in conversation, on the phone or at his studio, discussing art for art's sake. He'd been old even then, but those nights had returned to him a life he thought had passed him.

He knows he doesn't deserve forgiveness, but he can't help recall the same traits in Yusuke. The same love of art. The same, oftentimes bizarre, eccentricities.

He grins at the blue above him. Who knew? Maybe one day, when all this was in the distant past, and things had been made right, maybe he could sit with Yusuke and just talk.

That would be nice.

Someone stabs him in the stomach.

Madarame looks down at the knife in his gut, and traces his eyes back up the arm and into the red face of a young man. "Remember me?" The man screams.

He yanks the knife out and slams it home once more. "Remember me?"

Again.

"REMEMBER ME?"

Madarame does. Even as the intense rushing sensation spreads through his body and his vision starts to darken, he can recall the boy's face.

Daiki Aoe.

The knife stabs him again, and again, and again, and people are screaming and he hears a shout that must be from the police officer who became obstructed due to the crowd and Madarame can't understand why any of this is happening but he sees something at the corner of Daiki Aoe's mouth and he somehow manages to focus on it and it has to be spittle but it can't be spittle because it's black.

Then, he falls. His back hits the ground, landing on his still-cuffed arms. A part of his brain that still fires sees the officer seize the young man, and someone crouches next to him and shouts, but Madarame can't tell what's being said.

Daiki Aoe. He remembers this boy. Remembers the work he'd done for him. Remembers kicking him out, just like all the others.

Daiki Aoe.

He'd been such a good boy.

And then Madarame hears and sees nothing else.

#

Makoto sits on her couch and listens as the news anchor continues, "... quickly seized the assailant and placed him into custody. Ichiryusai Madarame, having received multiple stab wounds to his torso, was rushed to a local hospital, where he was pronounced dead upon arrival. This coming only two hours after his televised appearance, in which he apparently admitted to multiple counts of plagiarism and potentially murder. This has led some to speculate that-"

"Makoto."

She jumps off the couch and turns to find Sae in the doorway, stern-faced.

"Oh, hi." She snatches the remote off the cushion and mutes the television. "Did you hear? That painter, Madarame, the one from the Phantom Thieves' Calling Card? He confessed, and they just said he was stabbed to death in the street outside the studio. Isn't that-"

"I need the name." Her voice is soft, but it smothers Makoto's words.

"The name?"

Sae steps forward, and drops her bag onto the couch. "Yes, Makoto. The name. Of the man."

"Oh." She looks down at her hands, swallows, and chooses her next words carefully. "I have his name, Sae. But I don't think you need it."

"And how's that?"

She winces at her sister's tone. "Haru convinced him not to do anything about the incident."

"Well, thankfully the restraint of strangers has always been something you can rely upon. The name, Makoto."

It tumbles out despite herself. "Rin Sugimura."

Her sister's eyes widen a fraction. "Sugimura? As in the Sugimura's?" Makoto doesn't reply. "Figures. I'll deal with this."

Makoto steps around the couch. "Please. Please don't. I know I messed up, but if you do anything, it'll get Haru in trouble and-"

Sae's scowl is something special. "I don't care about this Haru, Makoto. Her future is not my priority."

"But I-" Makoto starts, then stops. Her phone rings from the living room table. From the angle she stands, she can read the school's number.

Sae recognizes it too. "Aren't you going to get that? It could be important." Makoto takes it off the table, and Sae quickly adds, "If it's that Principal, give it to me immediately."

Makoto answers with, "Hello?"

She listens, and remains silent while the person on the other end says their peace. "I see," she replies, once they've finished. "I'll see you tomorrow, then." She hangs up, but holds the phone in clenched hands.

"What's wrong?" Sae asks, in a tone that suggests the word, 'now' barely escaped the end of that sentence.

Makoto looks at her. "It's Principal Kobyakawa."

"Goddammit, I knew that son of a-"

"He's dead."

#

Akechi steps off the elevator, his hand behind his back.

When he reaches his destination, he slides inside the office and walks up to the receptionist, a young woman who keeps her eyes on her computer's screen. Her fingers dart over the keyboard, and her mouth is drawn into a thin, white line.

Akechi clears his throat, and with a flourish, reveals what's behind his back. He holds it out to her.

Her eyes flash to him, and widen. "Akechi-kun!" She cries. Then, she sees what he holds. "Oh, you are too much!" She laughs as she takes the bouquet into her arms.

He lowers his head and says, "Mori-chan, I'm afraid I'll never be enough for you."

Mori sighs and rolls her eyes. "You are such a charmer. Honestly, I can't even with you sometimes."

He gives her his best smile. "How have you been?"

She waves the question away. "Oh, you know. Changing the country."

"So, busy?"

"Too busy."

"And no time for a love life? What a shame."

Her grin morphs into a smirk. "Keep dreaming, young man. Maybe once we've won I'll have a night to myself." She sets the flowers on her desk, and plants her hands on her hips. "But, what about you? Any interesting cases?"

Akechi thinks of Kobayakawa's sniveling shadow, begging for itself.

Akechi thinks of Madarame, bleeding out on the sidewalk.

"Nothing too exciting, I'm afraid."

She nods. "That's too bad." She holds up an index finger, and recites, "One derives their happiness from the full application and direction of their talents towards a just and worthwhile goal."

Akechi's grin twitches. He shuts his eyes. "I can't place that one. It sounds like something he said to the NPA." Before she can answer, he asks, "Speaking of which, is he in?"

"He is." She jerks her head towards the double doors behind her desk. "There's a few advisors in there, but you can go on in. He's expecting you."

"Then, I regret I must leave you, my lady," Akechi replies, and gives an exaggerated bow.

Mori giggles. "Alright, alright. Enough of that. I've got to get back to work."

Akechi smiles, moves past her, opens the doors, and steps through.

A number of heads turn his way. A few men sit on the plush office couches, a few stand behind them, along the walls.

Masayoshi Shido reclines at his desk, a look of cool reflection on his face. "And I'm telling you, gentlemen, the New Dawn movement no longer poses a threat."

A squirrely looking man speaks up from the couch. "But sir, just because Yukio Kan is dead doesn't mean his group is. There's been rumors that-"

Shido cuts him off. "Those rumors are being spread on my orders, Shan-san. The truth is that the remaining members of the New Dawn have already aligned with us."

Akechi watches as the heads swivel around. They oink at one another like pigs. A few look like they would prefer to say something else. Akechi notes their faces.

"But now, I've another appointment. If you will excuse us?" Shido remains sitting, and waits as the men file out. Akechi watches them leave. A number of them stop alongside Mori's desk, anxious to get their requisite flirting in. Akechi shuts the door behind them.

"What'd you make of the talking heads today, Goro?" Shido asks.

Akechi sits across from him. "I was hardly here long enough to form an opinion."

Shido smiles, and peers at him through those tinted glasses. "We both know that's not true."

"I think they would've appreciated being made aware of your plans to acquire the New Dawn."

"They'll get over it. Besides, if any of them brains in their heads, they would've realized what I was doing."

Akechi doesn't reply. Together, the two sit in silence.

Shido is the one who breaks it. "I heard about the painter."

Akechi rests a gloved hand on the desk, and drums his fingers across it. "Yes... about that. I feel I must apologize." He has to drag the words from his gut.

Shido's brows rise. "Apologize? Why?"

"It was sloppy. By the time the gangster's requests reached me, the painter's Palace had already collapsed. I had to improvise."

"I saw."

"Had I been faster, I could've been more surgical."

Shido nods, and a look drifts over his face Akechi has come to associate with long, twisting thoughts. "The boy that did the deed. Where'd you find him?"

"Do you want his name?" Akechi asks.

Shido shakes his head.

"I try to plan for contingencies. We've kept tabs on the painter's former apprentices. A good number of them have a presence in the Metaverse. This one happened to be a drug addict. Unstable."

Shido spreads his arms in an exaggerated shrug. "So, an addict takes his revenge on his former, unscrupulous Sensei. The painter's secrets die with him, including whatever connections he may have had to various parties. I'd call that impressive improvisation."

"Still, the former apprentice may-"

"You just said he was a drug addict. That is what people will believe, because that the story they've been told. It won't matter what story he tells afterwards. If it makes you feel better, keep an eye on him. Take measures to ensure this doesn't go sideways. Still, you did well."

Akechi brushes a lock of hair from his face and allows himself a smile. "Thank you."

"Now then, the Principal?"

Akechi's smile is about to expand, but he keeps it locked down. "Which one?" He asks, unable to help himself.

Shido's grin grows cold. "The one that took a tumble."

"All went accordingly."

"Instructions were followed?"

"To the letter. His ineptitude is no longer a danger to us. And, because of the strangeness of his passing, we have various options on how to play it, if we need to."

"And you're certain these Phantom Thieves can be gotten to through that school?"

Akechi doesn't allow his face to change, even as he feels the blood quicken beneath his skin. "I'd say I'm eighty-five percent sure. It shouldn't be much longer until we ascertain their identity, or identities."

Shido rubs his hands over one another, a nervous little tic he doesn't realize he has. "I don't like what I don't know, Goro."

Akechi nods. "It's my top priority."

Shido lets out a small laugh. "You've a lot of those."

He shrugs. "No more than necessary."

Shido stands, and moves around the desk until he stands besides Akechi. Then, he reaches out a hand and rests it on his shoulder. "I want you to know, I could never have gotten this far without you. All the work you've done, all the things you've endured. It means so much to me, to know that it's directed towards our shared goal." He beams. "I'm proud of you, son."

And Akechi smiles up at him, and says, "Thanks, Dad."

##

A/N: Hoo boy.

Damn, it's good to post again. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I really took a STAB at exploring the fallout of the Madarame arc. See what I did there? I wrote, 'I really took a STAB at exploring the fallout of the Madarame arc.' That's because Madarame got stabbed.

Get it?

Yeah, you get it.

It's been a busy set of months! Grad School is wrapping up! I got a new job that I'll be starting in May! I finally got rid of my old coffee table!

I know, I know. You guys don't care about any of that shit. You want to know when I'm coming back, right? Fair enough.

May 7.

That's when I'll be back.

Let me just say this. Thank you! Thank you for reading and commenting and kudoing and Favorite-ing, and all those other 'ings. Over at ao3, this story crossed 50K hits. That's amazing! You people are amazing!

And the P5 anime finally hit. And it was... fine. Yep. It mirrored the game pretty closely, with a few interesting diversions. I watched it with my wife, and she was like, "Jesus Christ, where was this casino scene in Crimson?" I didn't have an answer.

Other things my wife said during the episode:

"Wait, so is Kawakami a maid maid, or a sexy maid?"

"Does his shirt say 'OMG?'"

*Beneath the Mask comes on* "Oh! It's that music!"

*Sae shows up.* "Oh shit, is that the sister?"

It followed the first few hours pretty closely, but the whole thing seemed more of a 'Spot the thing from the game,' than a solid foundation for a 25 episode TV show. And that's fine. Hell, when Takemi walked by I shouted, "Oh man, it's the Doc!"

I'm sure it'll flesh Ren/Akira in a satisfactory way, similarly to what they did with Yu in the P4 anime.

Anyway, I know this A/N is pretty long, but it's been a while since I've posted that I wanted to make it count. Again, I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, and I hope I'll see you all again on May 7th!