6/1

Makoto breathes. Slow. Rhythmic.

Her assailant's arms tighten.

Adrenaline kicks and she moves. Reaches up. Grabs. Holds. Pivots.

She feels their body collapse across and over her back as she pitches forward, as she pulls. Then she is light again, and a cry of brief panic is snuffed by a smack from the mat and an "Oof!"

A wince, and she offers apologies. "Was that too hard?"

Haru lays, spread-eagled, and blinks at the ceiling. She smells of sweat and cinnamon, and manages to make her groan charming.

Makoto speeds to the mat's edge, snatches up the two plastic water bottles, returns, and hands one down to her.

Haru's arm flops like a choking fish for a moment, then reaches up and takes it. "I'm afraid I'm not quite used to this," she mumbles and takes a swig.

Makoto folds herself down next to her. "There's nothing wrong with that." After a sip, she continues. "You're pretty good for a beginner." She thinks of adding, 'I used to be much worse,' but that would be a lie. Makoto has always had, as her father used to say, 'A talent for connecting her fists with things.'

Her friend smiles and forces herself to sit up. "Is everything supposed to hurt?"

Makoto shrugs and smirks. "Yes."

"Wonderful."

She hears the whistling before the footsteps. The older man, the one who had tried to coax a 'smile' from her, enters the gym. His jaunty tune falters when he spies her, and when he sees the look she gives him, he turns on his heel and marches back out. Makoto feels a contented purr in her chest, like a low-rumbling engine, and suppresses a smile.

"Who was that?" Haru asks.

"Some jerk."

"Oh."

"Speaking of," Makoto says, her voice rising a degree. "Are you okay? Regarding Sugimura?"

Haru's eyes dip toward the mat. "I'm alright. He's been distracted lately. His father keeps bringing him to these important meetings, so I haven't seen him much."

Makoto nods because she's not sure what else to do. The basic self-defense. The constant check-ins. There has to be something more she can do. "Haru," she says, as delicate as she can. "If you don't want to do this; if you don't want to marry him, why are you going through with it? Why don't you ask your father to cancel the engagement?"

Haru stands, quiet. She lifts the pair of gloves from the edge of the mat, and approaches the punching bag. "Would you mind holding it?" She asks.

"S-sure." Makoto walks over, takes a position behind the bag, and settles pressure upon it.

Haru throws a punch. It's not terrible. Makoto offers a pointer. Her next is better. The one after that is harder. The one after that, faster.

Haru hits the bag again and again. Sweat escapes her pulled back hair. "My first memory of my father is him arguing with my grandfather."

Makoto doesn't reply.

"I mean," Haru continues. "I have earlier memories, but they're just pieces. A smile. A hug. Being picked up. Him shouting at someone. But the first, real, solid memory I have of him is him fighting with my grandfather. It was over food, of all things." She throws another punch, loses her footing, and steadies herself against the bag. "They were arguing over the proper way to cook something. I think. I just remember them being so intense about it. Later, the two of them were sitting in our living room, laughing about something completely different. My father looked so happy then. My grandfather too." Another punch. "Then, my grandfather died and father changed. Smiled less. Argued less. Ordered more. I didn't notice, of course. I was young, very young. I had to hear about it in passing from his assistants, his employees, and my mother."

Haru pauses in her assault, and stares at the bag. "I've made my displeasure over my situation clear. I've tried to speak to my father about it. I've tried to make him understand. He doesn't. I think, he thinks, that this is all for the betterment of our family. I think, he thinks, he can manipulate the Sugimuras. Maybe he expects me to do it for him."

Makoto speaks. "But that's not you."

Haru shakes her head. "That's why I started working at the flower shop. I just wanted to do something for me, and not for the family. Because, when he says, 'Do something for the family,' what he really means is, 'Do something for me.'" With a low grunt, Haru hits the bag again. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling. I've never really said any of this out loud before. Everything makes sense in my head, but when I try to let it out, it comes out in a jumble. Does that make sense?"

Makoto offers her a smile. "Oh, I know exactly what you mean."

Haru sighs and leans forward, draping herself across the bag. Makoto keeps the pressure up, so it doesn't buckle under her. "Doesn't your father make ridiculous requests of you sometimes?"

The words hit Makoto like a freight train. Her mind switches off, and it's all she can do to keep her grip on the bag.

Haru pushes away and blinks. "Mako-chan? Are you alright?"

"I, um... my dad is, well..."

Haru's eyes study her face, then widen by degrees. "You live with your sister," she whispers. Then, louder, "You live with your sister! Oh, Makoto, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. I didn't think."

Makoto steps away from the bag. "It's okay." She tries to smile. "I just wasn't expecting that."

Haru buries her face in her hands. "Oh, I'm so dumb! You even said we'd be at you and your sister's apartment. It didn't even dawn on me."

"It's fine," Makoto tells her, voice insistent. "Really, it is." Except it isn't. Her mouth is moving before she can stop it. "It's been three years."

Three years is a strange amount of time. It's long enough to feel like the distant past, but short enough to still be fresh.

And just like that, she's back in that house. Sae stands in the foyer, listening to the officers, who hold their caps in their hands. Their heads are bowed, their mouths barely moving.

Her sister is shaking.

Makoto is waiting. She's waiting to be told that everything is okay. That everything will be fine. She's waiting to be told that the most horrible thing that could've happened, hasn't happened.

"He was a police officer," Makoto says. "Our mother died when we were little. She got sick. Even though he was always busy, he spent as much time as he could with us." Makoto doesn't remember sitting back down on the gym's floor, but that's where she finds herself. Haru sits alongside her, listening.

"Things had been scary," she says. "He'd been investigating this group. They were trafficking drugs and girls. They threatened him. Threatened all of us."

Haru whispers, "D-did they..." But she can't finish.

"Kill him?" Makoto asks. "No, they didn't. It was a few days after my sister graduated law school. Dad got hit by a truck. The driver was on drugs. He didn't even remember doing it. He was killed by the impact."

"I'm so sorry, Makoto."

"It's alright. Sorry. We were talking about your situation, and I made it about me."

Haru shakes her head. "I asked. And you should always feel free to talk to me about that stuff, even if it's hard." She smiles. "We're friends, yes?"

Makoto grins. "Right. We're friends."

Haru sighs. "Perhaps we should change topics? Prepare for our upcoming interview with Mona-chan?"

Makoto laughs. "Sure." The word comes out harsher than she meant. She finds Haru's eyes tunneling into her own. "What?"

"We haven't really discussed Madarame's death, have we? Well, we did. But you didn't really say much about it."

Makoto glances back down towards her feet. "That's because I'm not sure what to say about it."

Haru doesn't speak for a moment. Then, "You don't really think Akira and his friends… killed him, do you?"

Makoto fixes Haru with her own gaze. "Do you?"

Haru blushes, and looks away. "Well, I don't really know Akira as well as you, so I couldn't really say."

Makoto doesn't reply. She didn't want to think it. Didn't like to think it. Couldn't help but think it. It's only one possibility. A faint possibility at that. Akira's not a killer. He's…

What?

What was he? A cute schoolboy she'd flirted with for a few weeks? How long had she known him? Less than two months. What did she really know about him? He had assaulted someone, after all.

She winces. Remembers the last time she had a real conversation with Sis. How she'd been wrapped in Sae's arms, staring down at the file on their living room table, and she'd said, 'He pulled the fire alarm. He got me out of there. So, I don't care what that says about him.'

But what if she'd been wrong? Akira Kurusu had saved her from Kamoshida. He had risked himself for her. That had to mean something. But then, he'd lied through his teeth to her. Tried to trick her. Obfuscate her. Paired up with Takamaki to try and break her heart.

"You're wrong," Makoto says, as Haru starts to fidget from the quiet.

"I'm sorry?" Haru asks.

Makoto looks up at her friend, her only friend, and mutters, "I'm starting to think I don't know Akira Kurusu, at all."

#

Lala looms behind him. He can feel her, towering, her eyes drilling holes into the back of his head. The patrons stare at him, unblinking, jaws set, hands cupped tight around their drinks.

Akira fights the urge to swallow. He fails.

"Answer the question, Akira," Lala growls. Her words offer no room to escape.

He sighs, lowers his eyes, and says, "No, I haven't set things right with Makoto."

A great cacophony of groans escape the bar patrons. Some throw their hands in the air. Others shake their heads.

Lala steps clear of him, shaking her head. "You, young man, are hopeless."

Akira begins to protest. "But it's..."

Lala holds up a solitary finger. "Boy, I swear, if you say, 'it's complicated' one more time. If you say it one more time."

Akira keeps his mouth shut.

A salaryman with a loosened tie speaks, and with each syllable, drives his finger down onto the countertop. "You best get a move on! Time waits for no man! Neither does love!"

His boyfriend nods, and pats him on the shoulder. "That's right. If this takes much longer, she'll find herself a real man. A man who doesn't take weeks and weeks to tell her how he feels about her." He raises his hand. "Lala-chan, this troublemaker of yours is going to drive me to drink."

"Another round then?" Lala calls.

The man smiles and nods.

Akira is not sure when his Makoto issues became staple entertainment at the bar, but it is not the strangest thing that has happened to him in the last few months. He looks over at the salaryman. "Another soda?"

"A water, please." He smirks. "And try not to take forever."

Akira groans and the patrons laugh.

Lala joins him as he pours the request. "I appreciate you being a good sport about this," she whispers.

He shrugs. "It's alright. I know it's all in good fun."

"Still," she mutters. "I don't like seeing you like this. I know you're laughing too, but I can tell this is eating you up inside."

"More of your intuition?" He asks.

She pokes him in the shoulder, hard. "Don't make the same mistake all young people make."

"What's that?"

"Thinking you're the only person who's ever been in love."

Akira turns to her. "Isn't that jumping the gun? We haven't even spoken in a long time. What feels like a long time, anyway. I like her, sure, but love? Love might be a bit advanced and-"

Lala-chan's arms cross. "Don't you try and weasel out of this. You're in love, and I won't have you telling yourself you're not."

Akira opens his mouth, shuts it, then opens it again. "Yes, ma'am." He slides past her and brings the water to the salaryman, who thanks him, and returns to the conversation with his boyfriend.

Alone with his thoughts for the first time all day, Akira lets himself take stock.

Love, huh? He thinks of Makoto. There's no question he feels something strong for her, but things have been progressing so fast lately, he hasn't had time to think that much about her.

Given the contents of the latest Phantom Thief meeting, he doesn't know if he'll have a chance to think about her anytime soon, either.

Though, granted, he still needed to know what she knew about their activities. The thought rams into his head like a train. We need to get Makoto out of this. Once he learned what she knew, he could tailor his strategy to get her clear.

Especially if there were others who could use the Metaverse.

The others had been crestfallen when he'd given them Igor's answer. Then, cautiously, everyone began to question whether or not Igor was telling them the truth. It was a line of inquiry that bothered him, but it had crossed his mind before. Just who was Igor? Could he be trusted? Why, exactly, was he helping Akira with his 'rehabilitation?' Was it possible that Igor was lying to him, about everything?

They'd resigned themselves to pursuing other paths of investigation regarding Kobayakawa and Madarame's deaths. If someone else could access the Metaverse, they needed to know who they were, how they were doing it, and what their intentions were. Akira doubted they would be in the best interests of the Phantom Thieves.

Then, Ryuji had turned the conversation to the Mementos Requests. Akira had unfolded his plan to help Daisuke, and cover up their connection to Shujin. Everyone had been in agreement.

Now, all that remained was to start their latest batch of operations.

Akira glances up from the bar, as Ohya walks in. And here we go.

The reporter spots him and smirks, then saunters over to the bar and plops down on a stool. "Hiiiiii," she says.

"Hey," he replies.

She lifts a hand in the air. "Lala-chan! Oh, Lala-chan!"

The woman walks over, a frown on her face. "And what hijinks are you planning on getting this boy into tonight?" She asks.

"Hijinks? Me?"

Lala reaches beneath the bar and sets a drink glass on the counter, unprompted. "I'm warning you, little lady. You keep putting Akira here through the ringer and-"

"Hey," Ohya replies, pouting. "I'm teaching him life skills. He's like, an intern." She nods. "Yeah, an intern."

Akira frowns. "Well, the pay's about right."

Ohya makes a face at him, and when Lala finishes pouring her drink, she snatches the glass up and takes a light sip. "Relax, Lala-chan," she says. "Kurusu is in good hands with me."

Akira watches as Lala's eyes drop to Ohya's mentioned hands. They linger there, and then she nods and walks away. "Be careful," she whispers, as she passes him. If Ohya heard, she gives no sign.

Ohya waits until the woman is a significant distance away, then she leans in and says, "Have you thought anymore about what I said?"

He nods. "I did." She stares at him, waiting. "And I need your help with something."

She cocks a brow. "What, exactly?"

The others had been reluctant. As Ann had put it, 'Doesn't Ohya not trust the Phantom Thieves?' But, Akira had replied, 'She trusts me.'

"First," he says. "I need you to show me how to track someone's phone. The way you did mine."

"And what do you need that for?" She asks.

He smiles. "Aren't you going to ask what else I need?"

She mirrors his grin. "Nice dodge. Well?"

"Second, do you think you could dig up some more dirt on Kobayakawa?"

Ohya stares at him, takes a sip of her drink and asks, "Why? No dodging."

"I have to know." He lets the implication dangle. It's not quite a lie. He has to know if someone else is behind the death of Kobayakawa. If Ohya thinks he has to know if the Phantom Thieves are trustworthy or not, then it still works in his favor.

"Remember," Ohya says. "This isn't a one way street."

"I know that," he replies, and glances down the length of the bar to ensure no one's listening. When he continues, it's a whisper. "I think the Phantom Thieves are going to make another move, soon. The admin said as much. A couple of requests this time, all in a row. I can get you some details." And he'll leave Daisuke out of it. If the Devil's Dispatch decided to go ahead with information regarding the Phantom Thieves' latest exploits, he'd be sure to minimize the exposure their connection to Shujin would bring.

Ohya doesn't reply.

Akira sets his hands on the bar, and drums his fingers along the wood. "Well?"

She shakes her head. "Not good enough."

He feels his eyes widen. "What'd you mean? You want something else?"

"Something else?" Ohya asks. "Clearly you don't know what 'not good enough' means. I still expect that info, but I'm going to need your help on my newest assignment as well. You agree to both, and I'll do some digging on the dead Principal."

Akira lets out a sigh, and keeps the curse in his throat. "That doesn't sound very fair."

Ohay claps her hands to her cheeks. "Oh my goodness! You're right. It's not fair. How asinine of me."

Akira rolls his eyes. "Are you done?"

She grins. "C'mon, cuz. It's not such a bad gig. You might even find it interesting."

"More interesting than Yakuza storage units hiding fabricated art?"

"Okay, maybe not that interesting."

Akira pushes himself off the bar and folds his arms. "Okay, so what's the assignment?"

Ohya makes a show of taking another sip. Then, she says, "Ever heard of someone called, 'No Good Tora?'"

#

When Juni raps his knuckles on the door, the sound echoes out into the pale, silent night. The district is always quiet, after hours, and the noise skitters away like a spooked intruder.

The door opens and Akio scrutinizes him. His friend is dressed in more casual clothes, as he always is when not in public; a t-shirt and jeans. Aki was never someone who adapted to the high life.

"Well?" Juni asks, as the moment stretches. "Are you waiting on a fucking bouquet or something? Let me in."

Akio mumbles something beneath his breath, but slides to the side. Junichiro slips his way in, and moves with purpose down the dim hall, further into the repurposed warehouse. Tucked into the shadows at the ceiling's edge, he can make out the silhouettes of wires, wires, and more wires. The air is heavy with the perceptible hum of electricity.

Akio keeps pace behind him.

"Have you seen it?" Juni asks.

"Oh, I saw it."

"And?"

Akio barks a laugh. "You'll just have to look for yourself."

"C'mon, give me a synopsis."

"The short version?" Akio asks, as they near Dunk's door. "It's pretty fucking weird, Juni." He steps past Juni, puts his hand on the handle, shoves down, and the door swing open.

Blue electric light burns its way into his retinas, and Juni squints his eyes shut. When he reopens them, he spies the familiar, and still odd set up.

The left side of the large room is encompassed of numerous computer systems, modems, servers, and all the other high-tech machines Juni pretends to understand, but doesn't. This is Dunk's 'workshop' as he calls it, and as Tatterdemalion's resident hacker and tech expert, it's served them well over the years.

The right side of the room is a gym. Dunk himself lies on the bench press machine, shoving the bar into the air, again and again, grunting all the while.

Juni moves over until he stands over the mountain of a man. "You know," he says down at his friend. "It's dangerous to do this without a spotter."

Dunk's face doesn't look like it belongs behind a computer screen. His nose is slanted from too many street fights, and his ears are cauliflowers. He scowls up at Juni and hisses out, "Then help a guy out!"

Juni reaches out and grips the bar. Dunk lets a little of his strength escape, and Juni nearly topples forward. "Goddamn!" Juni shouts, and Dunk laughs, reestablished control over the bar, and eases it back down.

He sits up. "You need to learn to enjoy the weight, bro."

Juni shakes his arms. "I get enough enjoyment out of life. I don't need to add 'lifting heavy things' to my repertoire."

Dunk snatches a towel off the ground, and wipes his face. Juni isn't sure why Dunichi goes by Dunk, and the big man has never offered up an explanation. He chalks it up to another example of his contrary nature.

"So," Dunk says, standing and strutting over to one of his computers. "You ready to take a look? I already showed Aki." He glances back towards the door. "Aren't the others coming?"

"They're out and about," Juni says, grabbing a chair and pulling it up alongside Dunk's. "I'll fill them in."

Dunk shrugs. "Alright." His fingers dance across the keyboard. "Let's talk Phantom Thieves."

Aki crosses his arms and leans against a table behind them. "Think they killed Madarame?"

Juni shrugs. "It makes sense, in a messed up kind of way. They make him confess, and then they shut him up. They're heroes, and Madarame can't do anything against them."

Dunk smirks. "But there's always a 'but.'"

Juni slaps him on his meaty shoulder. "That there is. What makes more sense? That the Phantom Thieves magically got Madarame to confess to his crimes, and then killed him, or the yakuza group that runs Natsuki Storage got sick of his shit and got rid of him?"

Dunk frowns. "And they did that by having a former apprentice of his stab him? How'd they pull that off?"

Juni shrugs. "Drugs can make you do crazy things. The right ones can make you strongly susceptible to outside influence."

Akio clears his throat. "Or, he did just off him on his own. Unprompted."

Juni rolls his eyes. "You've got no imagination."

"Here's the thing, Juni," Dunk says. "Normally, I'd agree with you. But, after checking the footage from Natsuki Storage, I'm not sure I can."

Juni nods. "Let me see it."

"Right. First, I went back a few days. I found this." He hits a button on the keyboard.

An image of Natsuki Storage's main hallway appears. All of it is recorded on the thumbnail sized camera Juni had installed weeks earlier. The footage shows little, until a door near the back of the hall swings open from the inside, and a black speck appears.

"What's that?" Juni asks, leaning closer to the screen.

"That would be a cat."

The cat approaches the camera, head swinging back and forth as it walks the length of the hall, and eventually out of sight.

"Wow," Juni says. "A cat snuck into a building. Stop the presses."

"Juni-" Dunk starts.

"Call the police."

"Juni-"

"Alert the Self-Defense Force. We have to do something about this cat-filtration menace!"

"Juni!" Dunk growls. "Would you just shut up and watch the freakin' screen?"

The cat appears back on the screen again, walking in the opposite direction, back towards its exit. Something is in its mouth.

Juni squints. "Is that a... file?"

"Mmmhmm," Akio replies. "It's rolled up in its mouth."

Juni leans back and frowns. "Okay. That's weird. But I'm not getting it. Cats don't have respect for human property. Ask any cat owner."

Dunk nods. "I thought as much too. A cat walks into a building, and walks out with something. No big deal, right? But, check out this footage from a few days later. The day before Madarame received his Calling Card."

He hits another button, and the same hallways appears. The same door opens.

The same cat walks in.

For once, Juni doesn't know what to say. A manila folder is rolled up, and held aloft in its tail. In its mouth, it carries a thin looking piece of plastic, and he can barely make out a small orb balanced precariously on the thing's head.

The cat stops alongside Madarame's door. It sets the folder and piece of plastic down. Then, it rolls whatever is on its head into one paw, and takes a running start at the wall opposite Madarame's unit. It leaps into the air, and smacks it against the wall of what would be approximately human eye level.

Then, the cat lifts the piece of plastic, jumps to the card reader on Madarame's door, and fiddles with it. When it returns to the floor, the thin plastic is gone, inserted into the card reader. Lastly, it takes up the file, and darts out of sight.

"Holy shit," Juni says.

"Just wait," Dunk tells him.

A few moments later, the cat reappears, rushing down the hall and out of the door it had entered from.

Dunk speeds up the footage, and Madarame appears. He rushes to his door, slides his card through the reader, and opens it up. He stares inside, but never enters, then shuts the door, and vanishes off-screen.

A few moments after that, the cat reenters the hall. It jumps up to the card reader, and extracts the thin piece of plastic. Then, it runs back across the floor, leaps, and snatches the tiny orb off the wall. Then, it darts for its exit, and doesn't return.

No one says anything.

Juni leans forward, and dips his head towards the floor. He shuts his eyes, and takes a deep breath.

Breathe it in. Breathe it in.

"Told you it was weird," Akio says.

"Holy shit," Juni blurts out, and shoots out of his chair. "This is nuts. Unbelievable, even."

"So, I ran another analysis," Dunk says. "And that little thing that cat shoved up on the wall? It has to be the camera that took those photos. The ones that showed up on that 'Devil's Dispatch' site."

Juni runs through everything. "Okay. The cat filched a file. Then, it came back, and installed a card skimmer and camera. Then, it waited until the appropriate time, and managed to leave Natsuki Storage undetected with the skimmer and the camera. After having returned its stolen file, of course." He looks at his friends. "That's one well trained cat."

They chuckle. "What do you think this means, Juni?" Aki asks, once they've settled down.

A big grin spreads across his face. "I've got no idea. But if this cat is connected to the Phantom Thieves, then they're a lot more interesting than I gave them credit for." He blinks. Frowns. "I wonder what that file was. And why would they need to simulate Madarame's pass card, and know the PIN?"

Dunk bites off a quick guffaw. "Know what else is weird?"

"What?" Akio asks.

"Juni riffled through Natsuki's files when he snuck in there weeks ago. There was nothing in there about Madarame, right?"

Juni nods. "That's right."

"But the cat still took that file, and presumably, brought it back before anyone realized it was missing. That means the Phantom Thieves knew something about Madarame we didn't." He stiffens. "Holy crap."

"What?" Akio asks. Juni's eyes narrow.

"It doesn't mean only that," Dunk says. He shakes his head. "But nah, that's crazy. That can't be right."

"What?" Aki asks, impatient.

Juni understands. "There were no pictures in the files. No colored labeling system. Nothing aside from standard documentation. If the cat stole a specific file, and didn't grab one at random, then that cat can read."

##
A/N: Boom!

I hope you're all looking forward to the month of June in Crimson. I know I am!

A lot of work went into this chapter, and I'm pretty happy with it. I'm definitely glad to be back.

I hope you all had a good week, and that you're looking forward to the weekend. I'll be seeing you all on Monday!