5/25

Makoto sits and stares at the pages before her.

From what feels like very far away, a voice say, "...should handle the permissions required for the newspaper club."

Another voice. "Doesn't the newspaper club have, like, one member?"

"Club's a club, we need to honor their requests as best we can, and..."

Makoto lifts her phone off the table and peeks at the time. "Alright," she says, putting as much benevolent authority into her voice as she can. "I think we've covered enough ground for today. Let's wrap it up."

The rest of her administration falls into silence, and steal glances at one another. Her Treasurer is brave enough to speak first. "Um, Niijima-san, are you sure? It's kind of early."

She smiles at him. "True, but we've all been working hard. It won't hurt to postpone these discussions until our next meeting."

Her Secretary, his pencil tapping away against the desk, asks, "This isn't a trick, is it?"

Makoto blinks. "A trick?"

"Yeah, I mean, you're not going to have us leave, and then chew us out for leaving early, are you?"

Makoto's smile suddenly feels very grating. "Would I do a thing like that?"

Silence.

She lays her hands atop one another, and pretends she's smothering each of them with a pillow. "This is not a trick. We've all been working very hard. Let's take a break. You're all excused for the day."

There is a single beat of nothing, where even the air seems to hang still, and then they begin to pack. They shove their books into their bags with abandon. A few continue to glance her way, anticipating danger.

Is this really the impression I give off? She wonders, and cannot decide if this makes her a bit sad. Then, they are standing, and one by one, file out of the room as fast as decorum allows.

And then Makoto is alone.

And then there is a knock on the door.

And a pause.

And then another knock.

Makoto stands, makes her way to the door, and knocks on it, herself, twice.

Another pause.

Then, from outside, knock.

She opens the door, and finds Haru beaming at her. "All set?" The girl asks.

"Of course," Makoto replies.

She steps aside, and Haru shuffles in and drops her book bag on the table. "Shall we begin?"

Makoto grins, and opens her own bag.

In a short time, the student council room is transformed into the headquarters for 'Operation Destroy Akira Kurusu or Something Less Drastic.'

The marker board is ornamented with surveillance photos, taken with her smartphone, and printed at home, detailing the suspected Phantom Thieves engaged in various activities, such as standing in the school, standing outside the school, and sitting in a diner. Over the top of the board, Makoto has written, 'The Cat is the Key.'

The table is covered with a map of Tokyo, dotted with notations. Locations like LeBlanc, Shujin, Untouchable, and Shibuya Underground, are marked in red.

A large file with 'Supplementary Material' written across it is sprawled open, with two piles, one of which contains notes and turns of phrase Makoto can remember Akira using in the past, and the other is composed of doodles Haru put together of Makoto and Akira holding hands.

Makoto has questioned the need for this latter 'evidence,' but Haru has stressed its importance.

"Where did we leave off last time?" Makoto asks.

"We were discussing Mona-chan's possible role in... I think you called it, 'information conveyance,'" Haru replies, sitting at the table as though she were in class.

"Right," Makoto says, and turns back to the board. "I'm thinking there must be some kind of small camera attached to his collar. Maybe it's linked to Akira's phone?"

Haru frowns. "I guess that's an option. But it doesn't explain how he can get Mona-chan to do things, like pull fire alarms and steal your notebook. I still say it's because he's-"

"Please don't say it," Makoto cuts in.

Haru ignores her. "Magic."

Makoto sighs. "Haru, we've been over this. There's no way the cat is magic."

Haru rolls her eyes. "How do the Phantom Thieves change hearts then? You spoke to Daisuke. No one came anywhere close to him that day. All he got was the calling card. What if the Phantom Thieves of Hearts are magic? Then their cat could be magic too."

"Akira isn't magic. And I'm still not entirely convinced they can 'steal hearts.'"

"He-" Haru starts.

"Don't say it!" Makoto blurts.

"-stole yours, didn't he?" Haru's smile is huge and she throws her head back, giggling.

Makoto feels her cheeks redden. "You know, that gets less funny every time you say it."

Haru shakes her head. "No, it doesn't. It really doesn't."

Her jocularity is infectious, and Makoto can't help but smile and fantasize about certain things for just a moment, before she brings herself back to business. "Well, anyway, it was good thinking. Getting Akira to agree to give you Morgana for a day. That'll give us time to examine him."

Haru frowns at that. "You're not going to run tests on him, are you? I love Mona-chan. I don't want to see him hurt."

Makoto shakes her head. "Of course not. I just want to check his collar. His fur. There's got to be some evidence, some explanation for how that cat does the things it does."

"Magic," Haru whispers, and when Makoto glares at her, she says, "Have you thought about what you're going to say to Akira-kun?"

Makoto drops into a chair, with a heavy sigh. "Honestly? I'm more worried about what he's going to say to me. I keep running through these scenarios in my head, but I know it won't go the way I want it to." She smiles at her friend. "I'm terrified it's going to blow up in my face. Like it already did." She remembers the sensation of Takamaki's open palm against her cheek, the look on Akira's face when he'd denied nothing about dating her. "I don't want to go through that again."

Haru nods. "I'll ask Akira for Mona-chan the next time I see him at work. Then, we'll get to the bottom of all this."

"You're right. I guess I'm-"

She is interrupted by a muffled buzz from her friend's bag. Haru smiles and pulls out her phone. When she looks at it, her eyes go wide.

"Oh," Haru says. "Oh."

"Something wrong?" Makoto asks.

"I need to, um, go. I'd forgotten I had a previous appointment."

"I see. Something for your father's company?"

Haru's nod is quick and sharp. "Something like that." She stands, lifts her bag and brushes a few stray hairs from her face. "I'm sorry, Mako-chan. Could we talk about this some more later? I really have to get going."

"Of course," Makoto tells her. "We can't really take another step forward until we've got Morgana, after all."

"R-right. You're absolutely right," Haru says as she speeds towards the door. She opens it, smiles once more at Makoto, and quickly blurts out, "Thanks! Bye!" Then, she shuts it.

Makoto stares up at the board. She can't shake the feeling in her gut. Her eyes drift down to the desk, and spy Haru's notebook on the table. Oh, she forgot that.

She snatches it up and stands. Haru had only left a few seconds ago, she should still be able to catch her. Besides, Makoto barely has room enough in her bag for all her schoolwork and her share of the investigation material.

Makoto exits their headquarters into the hall, making sure to lock the door after her. It wouldn't do for another student to walk in and discover just what the two girls were up to. Not seeing Haru, Makoto quickly makes her way to the stairwell and descends to the first floor. It's beginning to get late, and a number of students are either involved in club activities, or have left for the day, and so Makoto passes few of them in the halls.

She doesn't find Haru until she steps out of Shujin's front entrance, and looks down the steps leading to the school.

Haru is in the street just outside the gates. She is standing next to a limousine. An older man, perhaps in his twenties has his hand wrapped around one of her wrists. He wears an expensive white suit, and a sneer.

Makoto does not think. She barrels down the steps, a snarl of her own sketching itself across her face, and a strange feeling in her chest, like the revving of an engine. She utters something close to, "Get off her," but isn't quite, and then, her own hand is wrapped around the man's arm, and she's shoving.

The man yells, "Ah! What the-" at the same time Haru goes, "Mako-chan?"

Then, there is a great flurry of limbs, and the man ends up with his back against the limousine, groaning and rubbing his arm through his suit. Makoto's hands are up, and Haru's are on her arm. The girl is begging her, "Makoto, stop!"

The man straightens and glares at them both. "Who is this bitch, Haru?"

The venom in his voice takes her aback, but Makoto holds her ground. "I don't know who you are, but you'd better get out of here before I call the police."

Then, he tilts back his head, and laughs. "The police? Go ahead! I'll have you arrested for assault."

"Assault?" Makoto asks, and puts as much swagger into her voice as she can. "I don't think so. I saw you hurting my friend, and I-"

"I don't remember hurting her. We were having a nice chat, weren't we, Haru?" There is silence after that. "Weren't we, Haru?" He repeats.

"Y-yes," Haru replies. Makoto, for the first time, becomes aware pleading tone in her friend's voice. "Please, Mako-chan. Please, stop."

She doesn't want to take her eyes from him, but she can't help but turn to meet her friend's gaze. "Haru, what is going on? Who is this?"

The man makes a show of dusting off his suit. "She's never mentioned me, huh? Some friend."

Haru can only look at Makoto's eyes for a few moments, and then she averts them. "Please, Mako-chan. I'm fine, alright? Please, just stop."

"No," Makoto says. "What's going on?"

"I'm bored," the man says. "Haru, get in the car. I'm not asking again. And you," he says, and points at Makoto. "I'd better not see you again. Challenge me like that again, and I'll have the police on your ass so quick, you'll be behind bars before you can even blink."

"Haru," Makoto says, ignoring him. "Who is this?"

"He's-" Haru begins. "He's... I'll call you later!" And then Haru is stepping away from her and into the limousine. The man gives Makoto one last, disgusting smile, before following her inside. The door shuts.

The car drives away.

Makoto stands there, watching it go.

#

The court smells like sweat and wood. It's stuffy. Too many bodies, packed too tightly.

Sae can feel a flush throughout her body. Relax, she thinks. Just do your job. There's nothing about this case that makes it different from any other.

But, of course, that isn't true.

She tries to keep her eyes on the paperwork laid out before her. Tries to keep her back rigid, her posture pristine, seated as she is, at the Prosecutor's table. She fails.

Her eyes inch up, bit by bit, until she spies the defendant, slumped in the too-small chair she's convinced is designed to make the accused as uncomfortable as possible.

As if he can sense her gaze, Suguru Kamoshida lifts his own eyes, dull and exhausted, and looks at her.

For a short time, they simply stare at each other.

Then, Sae begins to think about this thing almost touching her sister. She thinks about herself, standing, picking up a pen, and stalking across the courtroom floor and over to him, where she jabs it into his neck, again and again.

She thinks about herself, strangling him with the dumb fucking tie he wore to make himself look something close to presentable.

She thinks about herself, sneaking into his cell, tying him down, dousing him in lighter fluid, and striking a match.

She thinks about herself, breaking every bone in his perverted body.

She thinks about herself.

Kamoshida looks away.

Three judges enter. Sae stands. Kamoshida stands. Everyone stands.

The motions begin, but before can proceed for long, Kamoshida's defense attorney spits out, "Your Honors, we move to have this entire case dismissed."

The judges, all older men with graying hair, all wearing serious and thin glasses, make muffled, hmmph noises and glance at one another.

Sae keeps the smile from her face.

The judge on the left clears his throat. "We are under the impression that your client has confessed to his crimes. On what grounds would you propose we dismiss these charges?"

The attorney, skin slick with sweat, smiles in a way that almost looks genuine. "On the grounds that said confession was coerced, and must therefore be considered inadmissible."

Sae stands. "The defendant confessed to the sexual and physical assault of minors. He did so in front of the entire student body and faculty at Shujin Academy. You consider that inadmissible?" She knows where this is going, but she wants him to say it.

"Before his confession, Kamoshida-sensei received a specific threat in the form of-"

"Your Honors," Sae cuts in. "May we approach?"

The three judges look at one another, and then the center one raises his hands and beckons them forward. The defense attorney shuffles his way over. Sae strides. "The defense," she begins, before anyone can talk, "in no doubt about to cite the well-known 'Calling Card' from the group known as the 'Phantom Thieves.' I'm sure the defense will claim that this group somehow managed to force Suguru Kamoshida into a confession, and while that's a very interesting theory, I would like to point out that no one has figured out how. And, of course, there is the ample amount of testimony collected from the students at Shujin Academy, themselves."

The defense attorney shakes his head. "The testimonies of those students have yet to be corroborated. Suguru Kamoshida is a celebrated Olympian, a representative of our very country. If this trial proceeds, I intend to show…"

Sae tunes out. Is he serious? Would this little weasel go through all this trouble to take a stand for, of all people, Suguru Kamoshida? Think. She has too many important things going on to waste any more of her time on this bastard. I need to convince these judges to go ahead and convict already. How?

The defense attorney is still prattling on when she figures it out. She interrupts the man. "There is something else to consider, Your Honors."

The rightmost judge cocks a brow at her. "Oh?"

"You're aware, I'm sure, that this is a high profile case. One that many people are following very closely." She locks eyes with the centermost judge. She knows him. Knows he's as ambitious as everyone else in this profession. "This is the kind of case that can draw national attention, to all parties involved. The defendant. The prosecution. The judges." She allows a small smile to tug at the corner of her lips.

"What?" The defense attorney asks.

Sae ignores him. "I would also like to point out that, at this moment, the public's perception of Suguru Kamoshida is, negative, to say the least. In the eyes of the people of Japan, he's a rapist. A monster."

The attorney shakes his head. "Just a moment, you-"

"To dismiss this case on the grounds of an 'ill-gotten confession' would likely cause mass discontent throughout the country. If a monster like Kamoshida can walk under our justice system, how capable is our justice system? Do you want to be the judges that put this notion in their minds, Your Honors?"

"Wh-what?" The attorney's mouth hangs agape. "Sirs! Your Honors, this is-"

"Well put, Niijima-san," the center judge replies. He glances over at the attorney. "We will proceed with the trial. I hope, for your sake, you have something else up your sleeve." The other two judges nod. The defense attorney pales.

As she returns to her respective position, Sae knows she's wearing a shark's grin, but she can't help it.

I win.

The remainder of the trial is quick. Kamoshida himself readmits to his guilt, as Sae figured he would, despite his attorney's insistence that he remain silent. The judges nod along, as if this were all rote, and declare their sentence. Life. This is sufficient.

When Sae leaves the courthouse, she finds Akechi standing at the base of the building's steps. "Well?" He asks, beaming. "How did the prosecution of Suguru Kamoshida go?"

"Acceptably," Sae replies, but she knows she dresses the word up in an amused tone.

"Niijima-san!" Comes a voice from behind. She turns, and finds the defense attorney, red-faced, glaring daggers at her. He charges down the steps, and gets halfway to her when he begins to say, "What was that, Niijima-san? You and I both know that-"

"That," Sae spits, cutting him off. "Was how you win. You should try it sometime."

She turns and walks away.

"Bravo," Akechi tells her, as they head down the street. "I believe that is what the people of my generation call, a burn."

"Are you done?" Sae asks, but there's not bite behind it. That rush is back. The pounding in her chest. She knows she should be elated because that sick bastard got what he deserved, but she knows she'd feel no different if someone else had been on trial.

She'd won.

It might've seemed brutal, unethical even, playing the judges like that, but it was elegant in its own way.

The feeling sparkles within her. It lights up her brain so that everything and anything seems possible.

It dances behind her eyes and for a brief moment, she can live with it all. Live with the dead parents. With the dependent sister. With the male dominated arena she enters day in and day out. Because today, she won. And she'll win again, and again, and again. Because winning is what she does.

The feeling races through her like lightning.

And then it starts to fade.

She walks down the street, towards her office, with the same stoic demeanor she forces all day. But she feels it leaving, leaking out of her somehow. Leaving her.

And then it is gone. And she feels like she always feels.

Just have to win again.

"Akechi," she barks.

The boy blinks at the sudden harshness of her tone. "Yes?"

"Did you look into that thing I mentioned before?"

He nods. "I did."

"And?"

"Well, Yukio Kan had many political opponents. It'll take some time to sift through them and find just who might've posed a real, physical threat to him." He clears his throat. "And forgive me, but I followed up with the corpse as well. The coroner stressed to me that the man died of a heart attack, just as reported. I see no reason to suspect a…" and here he pauses, and glances behind them, "mental shutdown."

"Keep looking," Sae says. "There's something there, I'm sure of it." She leaves him then, picking up her pace as she glides down the sidewalk, unaware that Akechi remains behind, staring at her back.

#

Makoto stares at her phone.

MAKOTO: Haru, please! Call me!

She has sent a variation of this message several times in the last few hours. Haru has yet to reply. Her heart hammers in her chest. Was she okay? Who was that man? Was he a relative? Someone else?

Makoto doesn't know, and it is killing her.

She stands up, leaves her phone on the kitchen's island, and begins to pace the kitchen. Her eyes never leave her phone. "Come on, come on," she whispers.

When the door opens, and Sae walks in, Makoto rushes to her side, and begins babbling before she can think better of it. "Sis! I'm so glad you're home, I need your help, my friend is in trouble and I don't know what to do."

Sae regards her with tired eyes, the eyes Makoto has seen her carry many times before, and she knows better than to push during these times, but she can't help it. Sae grumbles out a small, "Can I put my bag down, at least?" She slides past Makoto and deeper into the apartment. She sets her purse on the couch, and slides down next to it with a heavy sigh.

Makoto walks up to her, hands clasped in front of her, regarding her sister. "Um, Sis?"

"Kamoshida's trial was today," Sae says. "He'll be going away for a long time."

"Oh," Makoto says, blinking. It wasn't as if she had forgotten about it, but she'd been so preoccupied with Akira and now Haru, it had been shoved to some back corner of her mind. "That's good. That's great."

Sae nods, opens her eyes, and stares at the ceiling. "Makoto," she mutters, and Makoto has to take a step back. Because when her sister speaks, it isn't the abrasive Sae, or the unstoppable Sae, or the rarest of all Sae's, the one that listens to her. "I'm really tired. Can we talk about whatever it is you need to discuss, tomorrow?"

Makoto wants to nod. She wants to say, "Sure," and pretend it's not a big deal. But then she remembers the man in the white suit, with his hand around her friend's wrist, and she just can't. "I'm sorry, but I really need your help."

Her sister sighs again, but this one is long and frustrated. "What, then? Is that idiot Principal giving you a hard time again? I told him to back off."

"N-no," Makoto says. "I haven't heard from Principal Kobayakowa for a long time now. I'm talking about my friend, remember? She needs help, and I don't know what to do."

"What friend?" Sae asks, the words harsh and sharp.

"Haru Okumura," Makoto says, meekly.

Sae finally turns her gaze to Makoto. "I don't remember you ever mentioning a Haru Okumura."

"We... we've been hanging out lately." She can't bring up Akira Kurusu now. "She's my friend and this afternoon I saw her with some man, and-"

"Her boyfriend?"

"No! It couldn't be. He had his hand on her wrist and was yelling at her, and I went up to them and shoved him and-"

"You what?" Sae demands, and shoots up, until she towers over Makoto like she used to when they were little kids. Only, when they were young, Makoto had always felt safe in her sister's shadow. Now, she feels the unmistakable tang in the air of threat. "You attacked someone?"

"He was assaulting-"

"Makoto," Sae spits. "How could you be so stupid?"

She feels the sharp sting of Takamaki's slap. She feels the sinking feeling of dread when Akira had shouted at her that one day. She feels the inky wrongness she'd felt when she had lied to Haru. She feels all these things and so much more, so much worse, because Sae is glaring at her, and in that one terrible moment, Makoto is completely sure that her sister hates her.

She cannot reply, and just makes little choking sounds instead.

"Do you think I have time for this?" Sae demands. "Do you think I have time to clean up another of your messes?"

"He... he was-"

"How old was he?"

"I don't know," Makoto blurts. "In his twenties, maybe?"

"An adult. Perfect. What was his name?"

"I don't know."

"Find out."

"I'm trying. I keep texting and calling Haru and-"

"Well, keep texting and calling. I need to know his name."

"Sis, please, calm down."

"Calm down," Sae says, and shakes her head. "Calm down. That's so easy for you, isn't it, Makoto?" She bites out a small chuckle. "Must be so great, to hang out with your friends. Haru Okumura. Akira Kurusu. Oh yes," she says, when she sees Makoto's eyes widen, "don't think I've forgotten about him. I better not find out you've been hanging out with him like some idiot love-struck girl."

"Sis, I-"

Sae lifts her fingers until they're in front of Makoto's face, and she makes a space between her thumb and index finger. "You're this close to getting into a good school. I got you that letter of recommendation back. Your grades are acceptable-"

"Acceptable?" Makoto asks. "I'm at the top of my class."

"Like I said," Sae snaps. "Acceptable. And yet you still can't seem to wrap your head around this, can you? I got your moronic Principal to back off and get you that letter of recommendation. I put that sick bastard Kamoshida behind bars for the rest of his life. I let you stay with me in this apartment that I pay for. I put you through school. I do all this for you, and to thank me, you assault some random man on the street?"

Makoto wants to explain. She wants to scream right back at Sae. She wants to grab her sister by the shoulders and shake her until she shuts the fuck up and listens to her. But she doesn't. She can't.

Because she's afraid. There's a malice in her sister's eyes. An intensity she's never seen before. It burns into her own gaze, smothers her, drowns her.

Sae snatches her purse off the couch and marches towards her own room. "Find out the name, and get it to me as soon as you can. I'll fix this for you too."

Her bedroom door slams shut, and Makoto is left staring at the space she had just occupied.

And then Makoto hears the vibration on the kitchen's island. It's her phone. She drags herself over to it, and checks the message.

HARU: I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

#

Ohya shoves her way into Crossroads, and wonders if she's forgotten about any shots she took earlier, because Akira Kurusu is standing behind the bar.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she says, as she slides into her usual seat, eyes narrow. "What're you doing here?"

"I work here," Akira replies. He's smiling at her, but it's a different kind of smile. A cocky one. One she's never seen him wear. What's he got going on that's so special?

Ohya frowns and shouts down the bar, "Lala-chan! What's Kurusu doing here?"

Lala-chan turns and fixes her with a smile. "He works here."

Ohya makes a face and turns back to Kurusu. "What do you even do here? You can't serve alcohol."

Akira shrugs. "True, but I can serve soda. Want some?"

Ohya hears Takemi's words biting into her mind, but she clears them and says, "No. What I want is something you can't give me, kiddo."

Akira's face drops for a moment, but then it straightens back out again. He leans in closer and says, "So, I was wondering."

"Stop the presses."

"Nice. I was wondering, remember how Madarame had that storage unit?"

"I remember how we suspect he has one, but we can't confirm it."

Akira's grin grows. "It's confirmed."

Ohya stares at him. "How do you know that?" Akira just shrugs. "Don't play that shit with me. I've had a rough few days."

Akira's face softens. "Okay, okay. Sorry. But look. I've got an idea to see what's inside. I need your help. You in?"

Ohya shakes her head and shouts down the bar. "Lala-chan! Since this kid can't serve anything worthwhile, let me have my usual!"

"Going home alone and waking up with a crushing headache?" Lala-chan asks.

"Oh, ha, haa, haaaaaaaaaa," Ohya replies. "Seriously." And then she looks back at Akira, and she allows just a tinge of respect into her voice when she says, "I was never not in, cuz."

Akira smiles.

##
A/N: Did you think with a title like that, it would be a happy chapter?!

Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you all have a good Wednesday!