He'd braced himself for anything.
There was always a chance that Aragaki wouldn't show. If he did come, there was no telling how much he would fight back. Ken was banking on having some degree of the element of surprise on his side―for once, being constantly underestimated could come in handy―but Aragaki could always turn the tables. He might even try to ambush him, or bring witnesses along to throw him off.
No matter what, he couldn't lose his resolve. Even if Aragaki fought for his life; even if he brought someone else… even if it was one of the twins, who had treated him so kindly; even Sanada-san, his idol… even if they looked at him with horrified expressions, or tried to talk him out of it… Ken absolutely could not back down.
Aragaki was strong and ruthless, but he'd spent the last month studying his movements and pinpointing the chinks in his armor. It would be a tough fight, without a doubt, but he was confident in himself. He could win. For Mom, he could win.
Her murderer wouldn't be allowed to live another day.
There was only one problem. His tunnel vision had blinded him to everything else that could go wrong when he purposefully split from the group during an operation.
The possibility that he might be ambushed by someone else, for example, had somehow not occurred to him. That was essentially Strega's entire modus operandi, and yet it hadn't dawned on him at all that he could also be a target.
So, even though he should have expected it, the Ziodyne caught him completely by surprise.
One second, he was standing firm, palms sweaty where they gripped his spear, waiting for Aragaki to arrive―the next, a bolt of lightning dropped from the sky, striking him down where he stood.
He still wasn't used to the sensation of his Persona taking a hit for him. They may have been one and the same when it really came down to it, but they were still distinct beings in a physical sense, and, while Ken could feel what his Persona felt, it wasn't exactly the same as feeling it himself. He was somehow insulated from the electricity―as if it passed straight through him, hurting only for an instant, and dissipated safely into Nemesis.
Unfortunately, that brief moment of pain was still overwhelming. Ken seized uncontrollably; his vision flashed white; his jaw locked, teeth clamping down on a muffled shout. The shaft of his spear cracked against his chin as he spasmed, and he collapsed to his knees, barely managing to catch himself before his face could hit the ground.
In the aftermath, it became more obvious that his Persona had mitigated the effects. Ken shuddered hard, unsticking his jaw with some effort, and pried his fingers off his spear. Though his muscles ached and his head spun, Nemesis was a steady, invigorating presence in the back of his mind.
It was Aragaki. It had to be Aragaki. Who else would be attacking him tonight? But Aragaki didn't have any elemental attacks; he was certain of it.
So he'd brought backup after all.
No losing his nerve. No backing down. Gritting his teeth, Ken shoved himself to his feet, holding his spear defensively against his chest as he blinked the stars from his eyes. No losing his nerve. No backing―
Someone clamped a bony, viselike hand down on his shoulder from behind, and then something cold and hard nudged the back of his head.
Ken stiffened.
"You're a smart boy, are you not?" a smooth, oily voice said into his ear, making his shoulders draw up towards his neck. "So I don't need to tell you that fighting back would be foolhardy."
A sharp click echoed through the alleyway, dispelling any doubts about what exactly was pressed against his head right now.
A tiny sliver of memory flashed through Ken's brain―an emaciated, tattoo-covered man standing just outside the steel doors, smiling at them with cold eyes, the grip of a revolver sticking out from the waistband of his jeans.
What was his name? Ken couldn't remember; wasn't sure he'd ever introduced himself. He was the leader of their rival group―Strega, it was called.
Which meant that he had killed before.
Ken tried to breathe, but iron bands constricted his lungs.
Apparently, his lack of reply and tense shoulders spoke for him, because the man behind him continued without waiting for a verbal response. "There's no need to be afraid," he practically cooed in a horrible pantomime of genuine reassurance. "I have no particular quarrel with you. At the very least, I don't need you dead. We can both leave with what we want tonight."
Think. He had to think. He couldn't just stand there stunned forever. Clearing his throat, Ken rallied himself. "We… can?"
"Of course." His eerie smile was audible in his voice. "There is one among your ranks who can sense the presence of Shadows, is there not? Simply tell me their name."
"Wh-what?"
The Strega leader clicked his tongue. "You heard me, child. I happen to despise repeating myself."
Ken swallowed thickly, staring intently at the distant moon as if he would find his answers there. It was obvious why that information would be useful to Strega, but why was he asking Ken about it? He had to be working with Aragaki, so why wouldn't he just ask his ally? Did Aragaki somehow not know? No―if he'd been to Tartarus before, he had to have heard Fuuka's voice in his head.
Was there any chance he wasn't working with Aragaki?
"I―I don't know what you're talking about," he tried, stumbling over the obvious lie.
Strega's leader sighed. "I wouldn't recommend playing dumb." His voice was dripping with honey, sickeningly sweet. "You wouldn't be able to hunt down specific Shadows if you didn't have a teammate who was able to sense them. I'm sure you're hesitant to sell out such a valuable member of your operation, but surely your own life takes priority over your ridiculous goal?"
So there was no mistake―he definitely intended to kill her if Ken cracked. Breathing slowly and evenly, Ken blinked rapidly at the moon, trying to compose himself. He had to come up with a response―something to convince the madman to release him, or at least stall for time. Something to save his life without putting Fuuka's in danger.
"We don't have one," was the only inane lie he could muster. "We don't―"
The gun jutted forward, pressing insistently into his skull, and Ken's eyes stuttered shut of their own accord. Images of Fuuka's smiling face played on the inside of his eyelids.
"I didn't take you for a liar." The honey in his voice had turned to ice. There was another click, right beside Ken's ear―he didn't know much about guns, but he could identify the sound of a hammer being pulled back. "I have no reason to kill you if you prove yourself useful. But, conversely, if you aren't going to cooperate, I have no reason to keep you al―"
"Takaya!"
Another familiar voice echoed across the clearing―this one deep and rough.
Ken's stomach sank.
When his eyes snapped open, he saw exactly what he had feared: Aragaki stood at the mouth of the ally, lowered into an aggressive battle stance, axe at the ready.
No, please. Not him. Not now.
"Ah," the man behind him―Takaya―said, sounding far more pleased than Ken was at the unexpected arrival. "Shinjiro. It's been some time." He paused for a moment, considering the two of them, and then chuckled. "I see. I must have interrupted something between the two of you, yes? What a shame―now I'm curious. I don't suppose you'd let me in on the secret?"
"Let him go," Aragaki demanded, steamrolling over Takaya's ramblings. His face wasn't angry or sullen like it usually was. Instead, his expression was oddly hard to place. Ken thought for a moment that Aragaki was staring at him, but he realized after a moment that he was actually laser-focused on the gun pressed to his head.
Takaya huffed out a laugh. "I have no reason to do that." His arm looped around Ken's collarbone, pulling him casually against his hip, and the gun slid around to rest against Ken's temple, rather than the back of his head. "Perhaps if you made me an offer, I would be willing to bargain, but I fail to see the point of just obliging you. Especially given that you've already effectively terminated our working relationship."
The gun traced lazy circles across the side of Ken's head, dipping briefly down to scrape his cheekbone. In response, Aragaki bared his teeth.
"Let him go, Takaya," he repeated in a low growl, his voice dripping with rage.
Ken breathed fast and heavy through his nose, trying without luck to stop himself from shaking. He was trapped between Scylla and Charybdis; held at gunpoint by a cold-blooded killer, with only his mother's murderer there to save him. And Takaya might be oblivious, but he and Aragaki both knew what Ken had planned to do tonight.
The only reason he could conceptualize for Aragaki to defend him, knowing that, was if he wanted to kill Ken himself.
"I don't know why you think I would change my mind if you asked a second time," Takaya said. "But I will extend to you the same offer which I gave to him. There is one like Chidori among you, is there not? Tell me the name of that person."
Aragaki glowered. "There's no one like that."
Takaya's grip on Ken's shoulder tightened. "How strange," he said glacially. "This child said the same thing. To think that both of you would spin the same lie."
Slowly, the gun dropped down until it was pressed more against Ken's neck than his head. "Perhaps a non-fatal wound is what you need to spur you into speaking?" Takaya suggested, and he tapped the top of Ken's shoulder absently with his bony hand. A moment later, the muzzle of the gun replaced his finger, so cold it burned the skin beneath Ken's sleeve. "I find that pain can be an excellent motivator―"
"Look, the kid doesn't know shit, okay?" Aragaki snapped, his eyes now wide where they followed the gun. "He ain't holding out on you. The others didn't trust him to keep his mouth shut about important crap, so they told him they had special equipment to find the Shadows with, not a Persona."
The part of Ken's brain which would usually protest the suggestion that he was untrustworthy remained silent―gripped, like the rest of him, by an icy terror. Aragaki's blatant lie barely registered in his mind. It was a lucky coincidence―he would've given the ruse away if he'd had the presence to react at all.
"I see," Takaya said neutrally. He neither moved the gun away from Ken's shoulder nor made good on his threat. "How uncharacteristically pragmatic of them."
"Obviously. That's a crucial bit of intel. They know to play it close to the chest. They're soft, not stupid."
Takaya hummed, mulling over the claim. Though he'd never been religious, Ken closed his eyes and prayed.
Fall for it. Please.
"Let the kid go," Aragaki said again, his voice firm and authoritative, despite the fact that he still hadn't moved an inch since turning the corner.
With a sigh, Takaya tugged Ken closer to him until he was practically flush with his side, ignoring the tiny, terrified whimper that escaped Ken's mouth against his will. "We've been over this. Unless you can make me an offer―"
"Let the kid go," Aragaki interrupted, "and I'll give you your name."
Despite himself, Ken felt his heart leap into his throat. "N-no―!" he cried, trying to lunge forward as if he could physically stop Aragaki from saying any more.
He'd barely moved an inch before the butt of the gun slammed into the back of his head. Ken saw stars.
With a cry, he fell limp against Takaya's arm, sliding down until he was suspended mostly by Takaya's elbow hooked around his throat. His spear slipped out of his fingers and clattered away.
When his vision cleared, all he saw was Aragaki, still low to the ground, now holding his weapon with both hands. Was he… closer than he had been before? He'd just barely been past the corner at first, hadn't he?
"That's a surprising offer," Takaya mused, not acknowledging Ken's poor attempt at an escape. "Aren't you a member of their little group now? Why would you risk losing a vital member of your team?"
Scoffing, Aragaki let his axe fall briefly, using his free hand to rip off his armband. "You know I ain't really with those clowns," he said, tossing the scrap of red cloth to the ground at Takaya's feet. "I was helpin' 'em out as a favor to an old friend, but, in the end, I got no dog in this fight. If some of 'em die, and they can't get rid of the Dark Hour after all… I won't be around to give a shit about it."
What? What did that mean―?
Ken's thoughts stopped dead when Takaya laughed―a cold, soft chuckle that made his entire body tense up. "I've always appreciated that about you, Shinjiro," he said, sounding genuinely amused. "Your logic is easy to follow, which means you can be reasoned with."
No. He couldn't actually be considering it, could he? Aragaki was a liar. He had to know that.
"Still," Takaya said lightly, "having a hostage couldn't hurt. It only seems fair, doesn't it? Since you have Chidori." Though his tone remained airy, his grip on Ken's shoulder tightened to the point of cutting off circulation, belying his carefree attitude.
Aragaki sneered. "Don't get it twisted. That ain't the same at all. Chidori was useful to you. If you take Amada, that's not even a dent in our fighting power." His eyes narrowed. "And if you thought you could take us in a fair fight, you wouldn't be going after the ten-year-old."
"Watch your mouth," Takaya said sharply, and he dug the muzzle of the gun painfully into Ken's temple. The spot where it pressed into his skin throbbed in time with his frantic heartbeats. "Why are you so adamant about this? You claim not to be affiliated with him and his friends, yet you seem quite distressed at the thought of me shooting him."
Aragaki glared into Takaya's eyes, not glancing at Ken for even a moment.
"I got my own beef with the kid," he said lowly, the rumble of his voice sending chills down Ken's spine. "If he goes and gets himself killed before we can settle things, it'd be frustrating as hell. That's all."
With a scoff, Takaya retorted, "That's hardly my problem. If you're going to try to bargain with me, then at least try to keep your terms fair."
"Just fuckin' leave him alone, dammit," Aragaki snarled. "If you want a hostage so damn bad―"
"I don't appreciate you acting as if you're in charge," Takaya spoke over him, nails digging into Ken's shoulder―
"―take me instead."
Takaya went still. So did Ken. He stared at Aragaki with wide, disbelieving eyes.
What?
Why would he―?
It had to be a trick.
Even if he wanted to fight Ken himself, this was too much.
So why―?
"A fascinating proposal," Takaya said at length. For the first time in this whole nightmarish encounter, the gun withdrew slightly, still hovering beside Ken's head, but no longer touching him.
Again, Aragaki's eyes darted to the gun, tracing its movements. Other than that, he remained still and silent.
Takaya tilted his head. "Well?" he goaded. "Go on. Make your case."
Lip curling, Aragaki glanced between Ken and Takaya, as if weighing his options. Ken was certain, for a long moment, that Aragaki was going to backtrack―he'd realized that he was fighting a losing battle, and now he'd just give in and let Takaya blow Ken's brains out, unfinished business be damned.
Then Aragaki took a slow, deep breath.
"Like I said, Amada ain't much in battle," he said, and Ken bit his tongue. "On top of that, he doesn't even have the info you need. S.E.E.S. wouldn't be weakened at all by losing him―if anything, they'd fight harder if they didn't have to keep an eye on him all the time."
He glared at Takaya. "But, make no mistake. They'll fight harder than ever to get him back. Sure, you'd get some bargaining power from holding him hostage, but you'd also bring all their wrath down on your head, and you're not dumb. You don't wanna risk that. Not without Chidori to help you evade them."
"Evading them would be a non-issue if you plan to tell me the identity of their Chidori," Takaya pointed out.
Aragaki scowled. "What, you're ready to track them down and take them out immediately? Before the next Dark Hour?"
Humming thoughtfully, Takaya drummed his fingers against Ken's shoulder as if he was merely a mannequin; a prop on this stage. Ken shivered.
"Very well. Continue," Takaya said.
Aragaki didn't need to be told twice. "I'm the strongest fighter, other than the leaders," he said matter-of-factly, staring Takaya straight in the eyes. "And, unlike Ken, they aren't protective of me. Most of 'em barely know my name."
Takaya clicked his tongue. "Arguably a downgrade from my current hostage in that respect."
"I could still be a half-decent bargaining chip," Aragaki amended quickly. "I've got old friends on the team. What I'm saying is that it's safer. You're crippling their ability to fight back, and they won't have a reason to come break down your door. You won't lose out on info, either. They don't feed me lies like they do with the kid."
"You make an excellent point," Takaya said, apparently taking Aragaki's backtrack at face value, "but I admit that I'm confused. You are aware that you still won't be able to settle your unfinished business with this boy if I kill you instead of him, aren't you?"
For a moment, Shinjiro looked away, his expression conflicted.
"…Might not get a chance to do that anyway," he said darkly. "You know that."
Ken stared. He'd said something like that earlier, too. What did it mean―?
"Let the kid go, and I'll go with you quietly," Aragaki said, cutting into Ken's thoughts. "I'll tell you everything I know, and you can―kill me if you feel like, or hold me over the others' heads. Don't matter to me at that point. Hell, kill me and tell them I'm still alive―they'll buy it, and then they won't be able to track you through me. Free bargaining chip, no strings attached."
No, no―then Ken wouldn't be able to―his revenge―Mom―
What did he mean when he said he wouldn't be around―that it wouldn't matter to him―what did it mean―?
"Very well. I'm convinced," Takaya said, jerking Ken back when he drifted forward again, "but I'll remind you that I still have the better hand here. So I'll be adding a stipulation."
He tapped the muzzle of the gun against Ken's temple, making him jump.
"Tell me the name of your Chidori first," he said. "So that I know you aren't bluffing. Then I will happily let the child go free and take you as my hostage instead. Does that sound reasonable?"
Aragaki scowled.
"…Fine," he said, and Ken's heart stopped dead in his chest. "But just that one bit of info. I tell you that, you let him go."
Takaya laughed. "Of course. I am a man of my word."
"No―don't―!"
Before he could even try to make his case―to beg Aragaki to just let him die rather than putting Yamagishi in Strega's sights, or to lie and say that he was the sensor if that was what it would take―Takaya's hand clamped over his mouth, silencing him. Immediately, he began clawing at Takaya's hand, his own safety forgotten, but, as always, in the most critical moment, he was useless. He couldn't even budge the hand over his mouth an inch; his strength was nothing compared to Takaya's.
"Go on," Takaya encouraged, even as Ken grunted furiously, trying to shake his head as if he had any power to sway Aragaki now. "Get on with it."
Ken went still, his wide, pleading eyes fixed on Aragaki, begging him silently to reconsider. Whatever grudge he harbored towards Ken for planning to avenge his mother―whatever cruelty remained in his cold heart―please, just leave Fuuka out of it.
Grimacing, Aragaki ignored him and turned back to Takaya. Ken's stomach twisted so sharply that he gagged.
No, no, no―!
"It's the twins," Aragaki said, crossing his arms over his chest. "The squad leaders. You've met 'em."
Ken stared at him.
What?
"The twins, hm…?" Takaya muttered. "Is that true?"
With a huff, Aragaki rolled his eyes. "You can verify it yourself if you want. Jin can probably find out online when those two transferred here, right? Sometime in April, I think. If you do the math, you'll realize they started hunting down Full Moon Shadows just days after that."
Takaya considered him. "I certainly hope you aren't lying to me," he said coldly.
"Do I look like I have any incentive to lie at this point?" Aragaki snapped. "Look, it's obvious when you think about it. Shadow-sensing Personas are rare as hell, but somebody who has a hundred of the damn things is a hundred times more likely to have one of those be a sensor."
That did make sense, Ken thought faintly, but it was completely untrue. Every Persona that either Arisato had ever summoned was a combat-type.
Why would he risk lying? Especially if he was still going to put a target on someone's back in the end―?
Behind him, Takaya sighed.
"That's a bit disappointing," he said. "To be honest, I was hoping it would be someone a bit weaker. If we take out their three strongest members in one fell swoop―well, it's tactically sound, but any further confrontations will simply be boring."
"Stop bitching," Aragaki said. "Let go of the kid already. That was the deal."
With another long-suffering sigh, Takaya let go of Ken's shoulder and withdrew his arm entirely, leaving him to list forward on weak knees.
"Very well. I did give my word."
Quicker than either of them could react, the gun swung up, and then there was a deafening noise―like the report of an Evoker, but so much louder; so loud it stabbed his eardrums like needles―and Ken flinched, yelping in surprise, his hands flying up to cover his ears and his eyes screwing themselves shut.
He was certain, in that moment, that he was about to die. Takaya had gone back on his word. Now, he would simply kill them both. The night would end just as it was meant to―with Aragaki and Ken both dead―but Ken would be deprived of his revenge. Mom would be deprived of her revenge.
Then he realized, from somewhere faraway, that he didn't feel any pain beyond the lingering discomfort from the Ziodyne and the bruise where the gun had struck his head. So he peeled his eyes open hesitantly and looked.
Aragaki had fallen to one knee, his axe on the ground at his feet. His hands were both clutching his left thigh, white-knuckled and shaking. Blood leaked profusely through his fingers.
"I believe you," Takaya said, letting the revolver fall. A wisp of smoke lazily curled up from its barrel. "I'm sure you have more information I would find useful." Ken's eyes were fixed, helplessly, on the blood that dripped to the ground beneath Aragaki, his hands slipping numbly away from his ears. "What I don't believe is that you'll actually go with me willingly once the child is gone. So pardon me if I give myself some insurance."
Aragaki folded into himself, trying without much success to stanch the flow of blood. His breaths were fast and ragged. "Bastard―!"
Distracted by the gunshot and transfixed by the sight of Aragaki's injury, Ken didn't even register that the gun wasn't pointed at him anymore. He just stared at Aragaki, dumbfounded, until Takaya huffed and shoved him forward by his shoulder, sending him stumbling.
"Go on now, boy," he said impatiently. "Shinjiro and I have some important things to talk about before he loses consciousness."
"Fuck… you," Aragaki ground out.
Takaya clucked his tongue. "Come now. Is that any way to speak to your generous benefactor? I could have easily gone back on my word and shot the child as well. Yet here he is, whole and hale." With disturbing casualness, he tucked the gun back into his jeans as if it wasn't still loaded. "I believe I'm owed a bit of gratitude."
Aragaki tried to force himself back onto his feet, lunging towards Takaya with a snarl, only to stumble and end up on his hands and knees, gasping for breath. His axe lay abandoned.
"Ken," he wheezed, "run!"
It didn't make any sense. Ken watched, frozen in place, as Aragaki dragged himself forward, leaving a bloody trail behind his dangling leg. Why―?
"Our hostage won't be of much use if no one knows that we have him, so I'll also have to insist that you leave," Takaya said, and he took a single step forward. Heart jumping, Ken whirled around to face him and scrambled back, abandoning his spear where it lay.
"Go," Takaya said, advancing as Ken retreated. "Run back to your friends. Tell them that I will contact them if I'm willing to bargain. Feel free to warn your leaders about their impending demise―although I'm afraid that it won't save them."
Once he'd chased Ken a reasonable distance away, he stopped in place, staying a few feet away from Aragaki's hunched form. Ken paused as well, hesitating, eyeing Aragaki with a confused mix of fear and hatred. If he left now, then he would never be able to―
"Go, dammit!" Aragaki shouted. "You'll get your revenge―another time!"
With that, he stood fully and launched himself at Takaya with startling strength. Takaya jerked back to avoid a wild punch, but a lazy kick sent Aragaki sprawling onto his back.
"Revenge?" Takaya said. His mouth curved into a cruel smile. "Feel free to try, boy. But Shinjiro would have died soon, with or without my intervention."
With that, he stepped forward and slammed a foot down on Aragaki's thigh, grinding the toe of his shoe directly into the ragged, bloody hole there. Aragaki threw his head back and howled, loud and wild, like a dog with its leg caught in a trap―but it wasn't just a cry of pain. At the end, it resolved into a strangled, desperate word:
"Run!"
Ken ran.
After that, it was all a blur.
He ran and ran until he could no longer hear Takaya's smug voice or Aragaki's cries, and then he stumbled to a stop, breathing heavily. Beneath his feet, a puddle of rainwater had been turned into a pool of blood by the Dark Hour's illusion, and he watched it seep into his sneakers with detached revulsion.
Shinjiro would have died soon, with or without my intervention, Takaya's voice taunted in the back of his head.
What did it mean?
He knew. He didn't really understand, but he knew what it meant. What it must mean.
Something was already killing Aragaki. His plan had been futile from the very start.
He stared at the ground, his vision swimming.
Mom was never going to be avenged.
"Ken!"
Raising his head, Ken watched through bleary eyes as a blur of red and white made a beeline straight for him.
He reacted only after a moment, his brain struggling to keep up. "S… Sanada-san," was all he managed to choke out before Akihiko crossed the distance between them and grabbed him by both shoulders, holding him at arm's length.
"Ken, what happened?" he demanded, hastily scanning him for injuries. "Are you hurt? Is Shinji still with you? Fuuka said she sensed a member of Strega right by―"
Over Akihiko's shoulder, Ken watched blankly as the rest of S.E.E.S. barrelled towards him, weapons drawn. Hamuko and Minato took up the charge, with Aigis and Mitsuru following right behind them, and Junpei and Yukari bringing in the rear. Koromaru darted out from between Minato's feet and yipped in concern, running around Akihiko and Ken in tight, worried circles.
"―alright, Ken?" Akihiko asked, and Ken blinked, turning back towards Akihiko like he was coming out of a trance. He'd missed whatever had been said before that. It must've been obvious from the dazed look on his face.
With a deep frown, Akihiko leaned forward and gingerly prodded the back of his head, making Ken wince. When he withdrew his hand, the fingers of his gloves were faintly spotted with blood.
"Shit," he hissed under his breath, and his hands returned to Ken's shoulders. "Ken, you need to tell me what happened. Did you hit your head? Can you hear me alright? If you have a concussion, it might not be safe to use magic on you."
It―might not? He hadn't known that. Did he have a concussion? His head hurt, but mostly he just felt―distant. Unmoored. Like a raft drifting away from the docks, adrift without his revenge to keep him tethered.
"Ken," Akihiko said, "you're scaring me. What's wrong? Where's Shinji?"
I won't be around to give a shit about it, Aragaki's voice growled in the back of his pounding head, and Ken stared at the ribbon around Akihiko's neck.
"He's gone," he choked out.
Akihiko's hands tightened on his shoulders, his fingers digging painfully into the bruises left by Takaya. "What?"
"He took him," Ken said numbly, only realizing how useless that sentence was after he'd already spoken. "Ta… Takaya. From Strega. He… he shot Aragaki-san and took him away."
A series of surprised shouts rose from the crowd behind Akihiko. "Huh? No way!" Junpei cried, his voice rising above the rest. "They seriously got Shinjiro-senpai?!"
"We must provide immediate aid," Aigis said firmly.
"We might not have time." Minato's voice was tense. "The Dark Hour is almost over."
"We have to try!"
"I'm not saying we shouldn't."
"Ken-kun, where did Takaya take him?"
In the midst of the clamor, all Ken could hear was the memory of a resounding gunshot. Aragaki's pained howl as Takaya leaned his weight onto the wound. His choked, gasping voice―Ken, run!
"He―he said," Ken continued, his tongue thick, "he said he was going to… get information out of him. And then… kill him, but tell you he was alive, so he could―bargain with you." Cries of outrage nearly drowned out his voice, but he kept talking, unable to pause now that he'd begun. "And he―Takaya said he'd only let me go if we told him the name of our navigator, but Aragaki-san said it was the twins."
"What? Why?" Yukari demanded. "That puts them in danger!"
"Yukari, it's fine," Hamuko appeased her. For her part, she almost looked relieved to hear the news. "He was just trying to protect Fuuka."
Minato placed a hand on Yukari's shoulder, as calm as ever. "It was the best move."
"Yes, it's tactically sound," Mitsuru said, tapping her foot restlessly as she thought. "It's a believable lie, and they're the least vulnerable to an ambu―"
"But he still shouldn't have just thrown them under the bus like that!" Yukari cut in, still glaring, although she made no move to shrug off Minato's hand.
"Of course not," Mitsuru said, "but it doesn't sound like he was left with much choice―"
The rest of their conversation faded into little more than a faint buzz in Ken's ears. All he could think was. Was.
I got my own beef with the kid. If he goes and gets himself killed before we can settle things, it'll be frustrating. That's all.
"Ken?" Akihiko stooped over, trying to meet his eyes.
"He was protecting me," he whispered, unable to make himself look Akihiko in the eyes. "Even though―he―I was going to―"
His sentence ended with a shuddering breath, and Akihiko's hand slid up from his shoulder to cup the side of his head, forcing him to look up.
"I know," he said. "It's okay. I know."
Did he? He couldn't possibly know the whole of it. Not if he was reacting so calmly. Not when Ken had been ready to kill―had been ready to take an eye for an eye―and Aragaki had responded by―by―
Go, dammit! You'll get your revenge another time!
"Hey," Akihiko said, and he grabbed Ken's face with both hands this time. "Look at me. It's okay. We can talk about it later, but―it's not your fault. Okay?"
Not his fault? He didn't think it was. He―it didn't matter, either way. Did it? He hated Aragaki. He wanted him dead.
It was just. Just.
A pained scream that morphed into the word "Run!"
"Hey." Akihiko refused to back down. "Okay, Ken?"
Barely able to even swallow past the lump in his throat, Ken nodded, mute.
Okay, he mouthed without speaking.
Akihiko's forehead creased. "Ken…"
"Senpai," Minato said sharply. "The Dark Hour is almost over."
Wincing, Akihiko nodded grimly. He slipped his Evoker out of his holster and summoned Polydeuces without a word. A wave of healing light cascaded down over Ken, easing the pain from his stiff joints and battered head.
"We'll still have to monitor you when you go to sleep, just in case, but you don't seem to have a concussion," he said as Ken blinked at him, misty-eyed. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"
Ken shook his head dumbly.
"Good," Akihiko said, and he stood back up, turning back to the rest of the team. He offered Mitsuru a sharp nod, which she returned.
"Yamagishi," Mitsuru said loudly, "can you still trace Shinjiro's presence?"
Fuuka's voice popped into the back of Ken's head, faint and staticky over such a large distance. "Y-yes, but barely," she reported. "It seems like they're heading towards… Port Island Station? They're almost out of range."
"That's alright. The Dark Hour will end any minute now, anyway," Mitsuru replied. "Their base of operations is likely somewhere in the abandoned buildings behind the station. Thank you, Yamagishi. That will suffice."
Nevertheless, Fuuka lingered for a moment. "Sh… should I…?"
"Contact the chairman. Tell him we will all need exemptions from school tomorrow. Ask him to get in touch with Officer Kurosawa, as well."
"Y-yes! Right away!"
As Fuuka's voice faded, Mitsuru turned on her heel to face the rest of the group. "Alright, everyone," she boomed, quieting what little chatter remained. "I know we're all tired from our fight against Strength and Fortune, but we're launching an emergency operation. It sounds as if they intend to kill Shinjiro to prevent us from tracking them, which means we cannot afford to wait until the next Dark Hour. We must act now."
Junpei gaped at her. "We're going to fight them… outside of the Dark Hour?"
"We have no choice," Hamuko piped up, her face a hard mask of determination. "We'll have to rely on our weapons, superior numbers, and the element of surprise. Senpai, I think we should split up into two groups. Those who didn't participate in the fight against the Full Moon Shadow can act as a vanguard, while those who are worn out from fighting will be their backup."
"No," Minato interrupted. "We don't have enough information. The backup group could end up stumbling into danger."
Hamuko frowned. "Then… two even squads? Half of the team that fought the Shadow on each?"
"Yes."
It was only then that the subject of the conversation actually registered in Ken's brain. A rescue mission. They were going to get Aragaki back.
You'll get your revenge another time, Aragaki's voice echoed in his head.
"I'm coming, too!" Ken cried abruptly, lunging out from behind Akihiko. "I… I have to!"
Even though he hadn't been excluded from previous missions, he'd half-expected this to be the exception. Surely at least the elder two members understood some of what had happened―his reasons for having split off from the group in the first place. Surely he could no longer be trusted.
But Minato gave him a firm nod, looking at him with just as much respect as usual, and Hamuko shot him her usual steady grin, even if it was a little more tense than usual, and Akihiko's hand landed on his shoulder yet again―not gripping, but giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"No one considered otherwise," Akihiko said, and the wave of relief that washed over Ken nearly knocked him off his feet.
"Thank you," he said, barely able to get the words out. "I… I won't let you down."
Minato turned back to the rest of S.E.E.S. "We will save Shinjiro," he said with the same matter-of-fact confidence as always. As if failure wasn't even a possibility. "Is everyone with us?"
Everyone was.