6-15
Haru brings the leaf of lettuce to her mouth, bites, and lowers the chopsticks down to her lunch.
Makoto takes another sip of her drink.
The afternoon chatter from the courtyard drifts up through the glass of the Student Council room. The two girls sit at the table together. They make eye contact, smile, and then look away. This happens several times.
Though silent, both endure racing thoughts that makes the soft quiet almost deafening.
"I got a new phone," Haru says, when she can't take it anymore.
Makoto smiles at her. "That's good. And the app?"
"Was there."
"Good," Makoto says. "Good."
Silence again.
Makoto stares at the meal before her. I can't take this. Say something! It had been her idea to eat together. The past two days have been something of a whirlwind. Sure, they had class together, but they sat on opposite sides of the room, and couldn't whisper like so many of the other students. She'd stood and sped over to Haru the moment the bell rang, and asked her upstairs.
Only, now that they were here, Makoto couldn't decide on what to say.
Or maybe, she thinks. I'm too afraid to say anything.
Finally, Haru sighs. "I'm sorry, Mako-chan."
Makoto blinks. "For what?"
"Things have been somewhat crazy these last few days. I haven't been able to talk to you."
Makoto shakes her head. "No, that's... that's nothing you have to apologize for. Nothing here is your fault."
"I got my phone yesterday," Haru points out. "But I didn't call."
"You're under a lot of-"
"Mako-chan," Haru states. "I'm scared."
Makoto feels the awkward silence fall away and her senses seem to kick back in. "Scared? Of Sugimura?"
"Well, yes," Haru says, and leans forward. "But not only of that. Of, well, I think, everything."
Makoto opens her mouth, but can only manage a kind of sigh.
Haru nods. "I suppose that's not very clear." She folds her hands together and lowers her gaze. "When that... other me, my Persona, spoke to me, it convinced me to not let people control my life. My father, Sugimura. And when I pulled that mask off, it hurt, but it also felt so good." She looks up then, and meets - what Makoto hopes is - her sympathetic gaze. "But I... I don't know how to do that, Mako-chan. How do you live like that?" Makoto tries to put her thoughts together to answer, but Haru plows on. "When they took me to Mementos, to train me, it felt like they had just assumed I was part of the Phantom Thieves."
Makoto feels her eyes widen. "A-are you?"
Haru lets out a weak groan. "I don't know. Yes? Maybe? I have no idea. It just feels like they want to do one thing, and I want to do another. But I'm not even sure what my thing, is. I just want Sugimura to leave me alone. I just want my father to let me live my own life. But what if I'm just trading one pre-determined path for another? If I join the Phantom Thieves, would I have to do what the Phantom Thieves wanted? Even if I disagreed with it? It's not that I think Akira and Ryuji and the others are bad people. I just..." She trails off. "I don't know." She leans forward and puts her head in her hand. "I don't know, Mako-chan. I thought things would start to make sense. I thought I'd be free. But I don't feel free." Her face scrunches up and Makoto's heart breaks a little. "And everyone's going crazy because they're trying to figure out how to change Sugimura's heart, but because his Palace is a car, no one's sure what to do, and Akira is trying so hard to come up with a plan, but I don't know if he has one and it's driving him crazy and that's my fault too, because Sugimura is my problem and-"
"Haru," Makoto says, standing.
Haru closes her mouth, and looks up at her. She's not crying, but it's close.
Makoto moves around the table, grabs the closest chair, and pulls it up to Haru's side. She sits down and puts her arm around her friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Haru," she says. "I didn't notice."
Haru leans over and rests her head on Makoto's shoulders. "I just want everyone to go away and leave me alone." She smiles a bit. "Not you, obviously."
Makoto smiles back. "Obviously." She lets out a long breath. "Do you think you want to be a part of the Phantom Thieves?"
"I don't know," Haru whispers. "I'm sorry, Makoto, but I don't know. Ann said something to me the other day. No one did anything about Kamoshida and Madarame. No one but the Phantom Thieves. I do think it's easy for people like Goro Akechi to say that things should be left up to the authorities, but if things had been left up to the authorities, wouldn't Yusuke still be starving? And wouldn't Kamoshida still be roaming around?"
Kamoshida's name raises uncomfortable memories, and Makoto tries to focus on the present. "But I do think you have options, Haru. If you got a new phone, you must've retrieved the messages. You could take them to the police."
On this, Haru is silent.
Makoto isn't sure what to say. She wants to say something, but she's afraid that whatever she comes up with will be something other than what Haru needs.
What would Dad do? She thinks.
She takes her arm away and straightens in her chair a bit. "Maybe," she begins. "You need to take some time to figure out what you really want to do."
"I think so too," Haru replies. "But when am I supposed to do that? Akira wants to stop Sugimura soon. They're also talking about these other Mementos targets. I'm not sure when I'm supposed to decide what I want to do."
Makoto takes out her own phone and checks the time. "Well," she says. "We've got some more time before lunch is over. Want to talk it out some more?"
Haru lets out a choking little giggle. "Very much so."
Makoto nods and steels herself to listen. Haru's not the only one who feels this way, she thinks to herself. I don't know where I stand. I don't know what I'm doing anymore, either. But there'll be time enough for that later, right now, this is what I can do.
#
Takemi stares over the partition at him.
It is not a pleasant stare.
Akira's throat is dry, and so, when he next speaks, it takes him a few attempts to form the syllables. "Do you think you can get that?"
She doesn't reply. Her face starts to shift. Her eyes begin to narrow and her cheeks begin to redden. Her lips tighten into a hard, bloodless line. He watches as her hands ball into little fists, and right as he begins to think that - maybe - this wasn't such a good idea, she whispers, "Chloroform?"
The word is said with such accusation that Akira feels a twang in his chest.
"O-or something like it," he manages. "That works the same way."
Takemi doesn't move. She looks like she hardly breathes. "There's only so many uses for something like that."
Akira feels Morgana shift around in his bag. He wished the cat would just stay still. "I know."
"So it stands to reason that you would be using it for one of those uses."
Akira tries to swallow. "Look, I just-"
"I thought the Phantom Thieves were supposed to help people."
His jaw works soundlessly for a few turns. "That's... that's what we're doing. We-"
"I thought the Phantom Thieves were supposed to help people. Not hurt them. Not kill them."
Akira's eyes widen. "We're not going to kill anyone! We're not-"
"Oh no?" Takemi asks, and shoots out her chair so fast Akira almost doesn't realize it's happening. He takes a step back. "Did you know that something like that could cause serious harm? That it could even kill someone?" Her words are much louder now. On impulse, he glances around the waiting room. "No one's here," she spits. "It's just you and me, Akira."
"Look, if you just listen to-"
"No," she says.
Akira blinks. "No?"
"No. You're not getting that from me."
"You don't understand. We-"
"You're right, I don't understand. I don't understand how you do the things you do. I don't understand how you 'change hearts,' or why your targets always confess to their crimes. I don't understand why you need my medicines to accomplish any of this." She looks down at the desk. "But I don't think you understand either. You come in here, asking me for an anesthetic. You clearly intend on knocking someone out. And you expect me to just give it to you? What do you think this place is, Akira?"
Akira glances around. "This is a clinic," he says. "Obviously."
She laughs. It is not a pleasant sound. "'Obviously!' To you, there's clearly nothing obvious about it. You want me to provide you something that you will knowingly use to do harm to another person, Akira. And you think that's okay?"
"I-" Akira starts, then feels his color begin to rise. "You use me as a subject in your medical tests! How's that okay?"
"Because you agreed to it, and I would never knowingly give you something that I thought could harm you. But you clearly intend to use this chloroform to hurt someone."
"We just need them unconscious," Akira spits out. "We're not going to do anything to them. They just need to be out of it for a little while!"
"And you'll do that how? Put the rag over his face? What happens if you hold it a little too firm, Akira? You'll suffocate them. What happens if you use too much? It could cause permanent damage to the person you're going after."
"You don't even know what this guy is doing!" Akira shouts. "You don't know what he tried to do to my friend, and-"
"And that's your answer? He's a bad person, so it's okay to hurt him? He's a bad person, so it's fine to knock him unconscious?"
"That's not what I mean," he insists.
Takemi only shakes her head. "That may not be what you mean, but it's what you're saying." She holds up her hands. "I'm not getting involved in this."
"But-"
"No," she declares, emphasizing each syllable. "We're done."
Akira stares at her, heart hammering in his chest, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He opens his mouth, then sucks in his lips, turns, and walks out the door.
"Whoa," Morgana says, once they're clear of the clinic. "That was scary."
"Shit," is all Akira can think to say. "Now what?"
"Uh, Akira?"
"What?"
Morgana pops out of the bag and balances his paws on Akira's shoulder. "What, exactly, were you going to use that stuff for, anyway?"
Akira sighs, and glances around to make sure no one is nearby. Then, he gives Morgana a rough outline of his plan.
The cat's eyes look ready to fall from his head. "A-are you kidding? That's dangerous! Like, really, really dangerous!"
"I know," Akira replies.
"But, that if none of that works, it could get you in a lot of trouble and-"
"I know," Akira insists, voice rising. "But what the hell else are we going to do?" He turns his head to try and watch the cat. "Do you have a plan?"
Morgana is silent for a time. Then, "No."
"Right. So there we go." He pulls out his phone and checks the time. "Dammit. It's almost time for Toranosuke's speech."
"Look, I don't like this plan," Morgana says. "But I want to help Haru. So, if we really need something like chloroform, then..."
"What?" Akira asks, impatience dripping from his voice.
"Well, what about Iwai?"
Akira stops walking. "Iwai?"
"Yeah. If what Ohya said was true, then Iwai used to be a pretty shady guy."
He still is, Akira thinks. "And you think he could get us something like that?"
"I mean, if you think about it, he may be able to help us out more than that. But yeah, if he really had yakuza connections, he could probably get that stuff for us. He did get us those gadgets, after all."
Akira sticks his hands in his pockets and stares at the concrete. "That's true." The last time I was with him, he was acting strange. He said he had something to talk to me about, but never made it clear what it was.
He takes a deep breath. "If Takemi won't help us, then we'll have to hope Iwai will." He nods and starts to head down the street.
"Akira," Morgana says. "Are you sure this plan is a good idea?"
"It's not a good idea," Akira informs him. "But it's all I can come up with. Believe me, I don't want to do things this way. I know that everything could go wrong." He suppresses a shudder as he thinks of the potential consequences. "But if we're going to help Haru, we need to change Sugimura's heart as soon as possible. And this is the best way I can think to do it, and keep those other factors to a minimum."
"But if we're too slow-"
"If we're too slow then we fail." He shrugs. He doesn't say that Haru could then go to the police with her evidence. Akira is certain of few things, but he's absolutely positive that if Haru were to go to Officer Kagawa with the evidence on her phone, nothing would come of it.
If that's true, why'd I encourage her to get a new one?
He knows she needed a new one anyway, especially if she was going to be going into and out of the Metaverse.
Doesn't matter, he tells himself. What matters is that we get what we need, and make this plan work.
He continues down the street.
#
Toranosuke yawns and rolls his shoulders. "I have a recommendation for you, Kurusu-kun," he says.
Akira looks up from the menu. "What is it?"
"Don't get old." Despite the words, the man gifts him a smile.
The two had retired to a beef bowl restaurant after his latest speech. There'd been no hecklers this time, which Akira was grateful for, and a few in the crowd had seemed entranced in the man's words.
Akira had found himself swept away once again, especially when he began to speak about education reform and the responsibilities of teachers and parents. The topic had, once again, been the burden being placed on the youth and Akira had been happy to see a few young people nodding along as the speech went.
Then, he remembered what he was actually doing there, and became crestfallen.
He knows he shouldn't trust Toranosuke, if only because of the story Ohya had shared about him, but for all of that, he couldn't help but feel that the man was genuine.
"All that stuff," he says. "The things you talk about. Do you really believe in it all?"
He figures he knows what the man will say, but decides to pay attention to how he says it. Toranosuke stares down at his beef bowl for a few moments, then grins. "Of course." He chuckles. "Then again, I'm sure you knew I'd say that. A politician needs to always be in support of his stances, even if he's not quite sure of them himself. But yes, I am a true believer in what I talk about. Our country is in a fair amount of trouble, and I sincerely believe it will be up to the youth to save us." He pats his chest. "Old timers like me? We need to do what we can to ensure they'll have the tools they need to succeed, and then move out of the way."
Akira frowns. "I'm not really knowledgeable about politics, but I've never heard a politician advocate for 'moving out of the way,' when the time comes."
Tora nods. "That's because most politicians are primarily interested in their careers. They're interested in advancing the interests of their party, and their own interests as well. To me, this is how we ended up in the stagnant at the moment. No one looks to the bigger picture. No one looks to the future generations. They only want to fix the economy now. They want to fix things for the loudest complainers now. They want to make sure they win now. But in ten years, when the power dynamics shift - as they always do - those problems will arise once more. And then, they'll shrug their shoulders and blame those in current power, and the cycle will begin again. We've forgotten a basic fundamental of life."
"And that is?" Akira asks. The din of the restaurant has faded away in a dull hum in the back of his mind.
"That long term solutions often demand short-term sacrifices." Tora gestures towards Akira. "Think about it. You can't do well on a test unless you put in the time and energy to study for it. To maintain your health, you need to sacrifice things that may taste good." He laughs again, and leans over the beef bowl. "Which is something I have trouble doing myself. But the point remains. It's the same principle with investing. You put money away into the market in the hope that it'll lead to greater wealth down the line. These day to day occurrences are things we are all aware of. Yet, on a national level, we seem unable to accept or even acknowledge this. We want improvements that will benefit us now, we want right now to be the best it's ever been, but the by doing so, we've dug massive pitfalls further down the line. Instead of investing in our future, we tread down the same paths we've been following our whole lives, and when things go south, we look for a scapegoat. And, sadly, that scapegoat is traditionally the younger generation, who we cite as too lazy, too un-patriotic, too weak-willed or what have you. And the cycle continues ever onward."
Akira turns from him and stares off ahead. "That's pretty bleak."
"I'm afraid it is," Tora replies. He shakes his head. "But enough of that. You've heard this speech a few times now. Tell me more about yourself, Kurusu-kun. I take it you attend school in the city?"
Akira nods. "Yeah, I got to Shujin Academy and-"
"Shujin!" Toranosuke replies, and his eyes nearly bug from his head.
"Uh, yeah."
"Isn't that the school where that vile Kamoshida taught?"
Akira blinks. "Yes. It is. I mean, he did. He's gone now."
Tora shakes his head. "And good riddance. Just disgusting, the things he did."
"I agree," Akira replies. "That was pretty bad."
"But how do you like school? Are you doing well?"
Akira thinks of his previous test. "Yeah, I guess I'm doing pretty well. I've had some help. Tutors and stuff." He thinks of Kawakami. "And my teacher comes over sometimes and helps to teach me. Sort of."
Tora beams. "Ah, perfect. Sounds like a dedicated teacher."
He thinks of his homeroom teacher in her maid get-up. "Dedicated is one way of putting it, I guess."
Tora laughs heartily, and returns to his beef bowl.
Akira's mind wanders. He's not ready to start prodding the man for information on his previous exploits. This was only the second time they'd talked. If he started in on that now, it might set off alarms in Tora's head, and the whole thing could be called off.
But what else am I supposed to talk about?
He remembers Ohya's words. Make it worth your while.
"Can I ask you something?" Akira asks.
"Certainly," Tora replies, once he finishes slurping up some food.
"I'm trying to be more..." He trails off, and waves his hand through the air as he tries to find the right word. "Charismatic, maybe? Yeah, charismatic. I'm in a position at school where, uh, I need people to listen to me." He nods towards Tora. "You manage to draw all these people in during your speeches. I was wondering if you had any tips on how I could do that?"
Tora's brow creases and his lips purse. "Interesting. Well, at first glance, I think I see the core of your problem."
Akira frowns. "You do?"
Tora nods. "Indeed. You just said, 'I need people to listen to me.' Implying that you want people to listen to you and hear you." He shrugs. "Now, admittedly, speech giving is a bit different than working with a group, but the core tenants remain the same, I believe. If you want people to listen to you, then you need to show them how it's in their best interest to listen to you."
Akira blinks. "What do you mean?"
"People are generally self-interested," Tora replies. "They want to do things that are good for them. If you want people to listen to you, and if you want people to do what you want, then you have to paint the picture that by doing so, they'll get what you want. A type of win-win scenario. If you listen to me, and do what I want, it'll provide you with a shortcut to get what you want." Akira begins to mull this over, as Tora continues to speak. "Instead of trying to force your will on others, you should show them a path where by following you and listening to you, their will becomes acted upon."
"Okay," Akira says, then frowns. "You know, that kind of seems a little shady."
Tora chuckles. "And there are people who have used that for shady methods. But charisma and these types of techniques are merely tools. Tools are neither good nor bad. They simply are. Knowing this technique, and using it, is only bad if you use it for a bad reason. If you knowingly lie. So, you should use it, but make sure you're truthful. You should strive to people that listening to you will provide benefit for them, and be truthful about it."
To get others to listen to me, Akira thinks. I should structure things in a way that implies they'll get what they want as well.
"I see," Akira says, and takes up another morsel of food. "Thank you."
#
"And then?" Ohya asks. She sits slumped forward, fingers wrapped around the whiskey glass. Her lids blink up at him, but slowly. The lighting in Crossroads is always dim, and he can't tell how red her cheeks are, but he's willing to bet they're very.
"And then, nothing," Akira replies. "We finished our food, and I left. I came right here."
Ohya takes a sip of the dark liquid in her glass. "So, and stop me if I'm wrong, instead of getting more information about his political dealings, you asked him for life advice instead?"
He frowns, turns, and pours her a water, then sets it down next to her. "On the house," he says, low enough so she won't hear it. "You told me to win his trust." He speaks louder now. "He's not going to trust me after, like, two meetings."
Ohya shakes his head. "You're not supposed to ask him directly, cuz. You're supposed to talk around the topic. Sometimes it's more important to pay attention to what people don't say about a topic than what they do."
Akira hears his name called from further down the bar. He turns and sees two men hanging off one another waving him down.
"I'll keep that in mind," he tells her. "For next time. I'll be back." He walks away from her, leaving her hunched over the bar.
"Hey," he says, when he reaches the two regular customers.
"Akira-kun," one of the men says. "We've heard nothing on the Makoto front for some time now." He waves his hands through the air. "Spill."
Akira sighs. "Things are-" He's cut off by a very vocal throat clearing. He turns to Lala, who glares down at him, brows arched, daring him to use the word complicated.
"Weird?" He tries, instead.
Lala sighs and shakes her head, shifting over the conversation. "And how are they weird?"
"Now, hold on," says the second man. "This could be weird in the fun way. Akira, is it weird in a fun way?" He smiles, suggestively.
Akira frowns. I wish. "No, it's not."
"She hasn't hit you recently?" The first man inquires. "Too bad."
"Thanks," Akira says, and all three laugh. He smiles anyway. He knows it's all joking. He's used to the good natured ribbing by now. What's more, he's beginning to wonder if the Makoto ship hasn't sailed already. They may not want to hear it, but it is complicated. Given the stress of solving Sugimura's Palace situation, and of helping Haru and the other Mementos targets, Akira's given little time to thinking about Makoto, aside from a handful of daydreams he's managed to have in-between classes and activities.
It'd be great if things went back to the way they were, he thinks. But can they, at this point?
He spends the next twenty minutes of his shift entertaining the patrons with more stories. Most of it, he just makes up. He suspects they probably know. But Crossroads has become a place people congregate to give him a hard time, and if it helps Lala and gives him some more tips, he's happy to contribute in his own way.
The night drags on, and Akira prepares to wrap things up and head home. Absently, he runs his gaze along the bar until it comes to a rest on Ohya. The woman is slowly sliding out of her chair and before Akira can even process what will happen and shout a warning, she shifts out completely and collapses to the floor with a thunk.
The bar silences almost immediately. Then, one of the patrons shoots out of his seat and makes his way over to her.
"Ohya!" Lala calls, and rushes to her side.
Akira joins them out from behind the bar, crouching at her side.
The woman blinks up at them, scowling. "Gimme a break, I'm fine, I'm fine."
The man reaches out and gently prods her head. Ohya tries to swat his hand away, but can't.
"I don't feel any cuts or bumps," the man says. "I don't think she has a concussion." He looks at Akira and Lala. "Let's help her up."
Akira can barely do a thing, as Lala practically scoops up Ohya in her arms and hefts her up.
"So stronggggggg," Ohya giggles.
Lala doesn't look amused. "I've never seen her this bad before," she mutters, as she steps over to a booth and sits Ohya down in it.
"It's not bad," Ohya blurts. "Not bad."
One patron sums it up perfectly well. "She's trashed." His boyfriend swats him on the arm.
Lala glances back at the patrons, and frowns. "Akira, can I trust you to help her home?"
Akira blinks. "Me?"
Lala snaps her eyes back to him. "Yes, you. Is that a problem? I can trust you with that, can't I?"
Akira fights the urge to stand at attention. "Of course. Definitely. But, uh, I don't-"
"Give me your phone," Lala says, and holds out her hand. "I'll plug in her address. It's not far from here. I don't trust a taxi or rideshare." Akira nods and hands it over. Lala punches a few things in and hands it back. "And don't stop. Even if she complains. You know this by now, but Shinjuku has some bad people in it. Call me the moment you get her back to her place."
"You got it," Akira says.
He moves to help Ohya stand. She groans. "I don't need a babysitter Lala-chan!"
"Akira isn't a babysitter," Lala replies. "He's your friend. And he's going to help you get home. Because you're wasted, dear."
"I disagree," Ohya blurts, but she lets Akira help her up. She takes her hand and rests it on her shoulder, and starts to lead her towards the exit.
They step out into the humid, neon Shinjuku night. Akira glances at his phone and starts to head in the direction. There are still plenty of crowds at this time, and they stare at the two of them as they make their way down the street, but as this is Shinjuku, most don't pay them more than a glance.
"You're my friend, huh?" Ohya asks.
Akira frowns. Whatever I say, she probably won't remember any of it tomorrow. "Yeah, I am. You should know that by now."
She laughs then, but it's more of a cackle, angry and sad at the same time. "My only friends in the whole world are a bartender and a teenager," she hisses. "What a fucking joke."
Akira keeps his mouth shut. That's the drink. She's got other friends. He thinks so, anyway. Granted, he's never heard her mention any of them, but they don't really meet for social reasons.
"Hey, cuz," Ohya whispers. "What'd you think that says about me, that you two are my only friends?"
What deity did I piss off for my life to turn out this way?
"I think," Akira says, trying to keep his tone bright. "That is says you've got some great friends."
"Uh-huh," she replies, and then nothing.
A few minutes later, she starts to cry.
Akira does his best to ignore this.
##
A/N: Yikes.