6/12

"That's it?" Ohya asks. She studies him over the top of her coffee mug, the steam fogging up the aviators that hang over her eyes.

"You sound disappointed."

"The Phantom Thieves go from Madarame to a jackass convenience store manager and some kid over-compensating by committing petty thefts?" She shrugs. "Why wouldn't I be disappointed?"

Akira takes a sip of his own drink. "Sorry they're not flashy enough for you."

"Flashy sells, Akira. People love to watch others crash and burn. Especially if those 'others' are former darlings. No one gives a shit about some dopey asshole working at a 7-11." She lifts her mug and chugs. Akira winces. Once done, Ohya growls out a, "Hey, Boss? Another one, yeah?"

Akira glances over to where Sojiro stands behind the bar, drying cups. They've been careful enough to keep their voices down, but Akira doesn't know if it'll last. It's only early Sunday afternoon, but he's already heard Ohya slur her words twice.

"Look," he says, leaning forward. "Maybe you should have some water. Hydrate, you know? Maybe-"

"What're you?" She asks. Akira can see his own worried expression reflected in the glass of her aviators. "A fucking scientist?"

He throws his hands in the air. "Fine, forget I said anything."

Sojiro walks over, fresh cup of coffee in his hand, and sets it down in front of Ohya. He picks up the empty mug and says, "Everything okay over here?"

Ohya flashes him a smile he doesn't mirror. "Everything's peachy, Boss."

Sojiro, frown set deep on his face, nods and heads back behind the bar.

"Anyway," Ohya says. "It is what it is. Thanks for the info." She smirks at him, and Akira suddenly feels he's been vivisected. "How'd you find out about these guys anyway?"

Akira shrugs, and takes another swig. "I told you, I know the admin of their website."

"Uh-huh," Ohya replies. "Any idea why they decided to take out a few bottom feeders? Instead of, you know, a corrupt businessman or something?"

Akira shakes his head. "No idea. Maybe they're trying to help as many people as possible? Their targets may not be big shots, but that doesn't make their victims any less... uh, victimized."

"Eloquently put."

He glares at her. "You're not exactly composing poetry."

Her chuckle is almost a cackle. "Nice burn."

Akira rolls his eyes. "Whatever." He steals a look over towards the bar, but Sojiro has his back turned, and seems preoccupied with the set-up back there. "Heard anything about Principal Kobayakawa?" He whispers. "Anything new?"

"You mean, since two days ago?" Akira nods. "No, I haven't." She frowns. "Have you?"

Akira shakes his head. "Nothing. Just thought I'd ask."

His phone vibrates. He takes it from his pocket.

"That one of your harem?" Ohya asks. When Akira groans, she snickers.

IWAI: Kid, come to the shop. I gotta talk with you.

Akira blinks. "That's weird."

"What is?"

"It's from Iwai."

Ohya's hand snaps out and snatches the phone away from him.

"Hey!"

She lowers her glasses, revealing bloodshot eyes and studies the two sentence text. "I don't like this."

Akira reaches out and pulls his phone away from her. "What're you talking about?"

"I told you about that guy," she replies. "What he used to be. He's not someone you should be hanging around with."

"Some could say the same about you."

"Hey," she says, voice stern. "I'm serious, dammit. I know you think you've got a handle on things, but you've got no idea what Munehisa Iwai has done or what he could do still."

"Ohya," Akira replies. "Trust me. If there's one thing I know I don't have, it's a handle on things."

#

In the times when Haru is alone, when it's only her and her reflection in a bathroom mirror, or in the quiet of her own room, she can admit the fear to herself. The nauseating, blood-rushing, lizard brain terror that churns up inside her like a tidal wave, ready to engulf her and drag her into an ocean of inky black.

She knows it is something that allows her to be controlled. She knows the science of fear, and how it affects her body and mind. She knows the math of it.

It still terrifies her. She can forget about it for a while, bury herself in the affairs of Mako-chan, Akira-kun, the Phantom Thieves. Push her own problems away to another day. It's more fun that way. More fun to live, however briefly, in a world where her future isn't the bleak landscape she knows it to be.

But fantasies end.

Life finds you, even when you don't want it to.

She doesn't want to hope because she doesn't want to be let down.

Haru steps out into the summer afternoon.

Makoto had gone on ahead to meet up with her contact. Haru had needed a bit more time to steel herself.

If she revealed those messages to the police, if could spark a lot of unpleasantness. Things could get ugly. Mean. Dirty.

But what else can she do?

Because, despite knowing that there's a slim chance of this working, Haru lets herself hope. Even as the fear sinks through her. Even as it gnaws at her. She's going to try. She'll try and rid herself of Rin Sugimura, once and for all.

She takes a deep breath, turns in the direction of the station, and begins to march.

She makes it a few yards before Sugimura grabs her, drags her into an alley, and fits a rag wet with something over her mouth.

Then she's gone.

#

The man sits in a corner booth, the ghost light of a smartphone pale across his face. It's a face she recognizes but does not remember. She can see the old edges, the blocky nose, the perpetual frown, but all of it is coated with extra bits. Jowly cheeks. An extra chin. The man's brow looms above his eyes. He is rounder now, and somehow the suit he wears still seems too big.

"Um," Makoto starts. "Officer Kagawa?"

Hideotoshi Kagawa looks up at her, and for a brief second, there's no recognition. She sees the years hanging off him like gravity, and wonders, If my father had lived, would he have looked like this?

Then, life injects itself back into his eyes. The frown shatters into a smile and the man drops his phone onto the table and lifts his hands high into the air. "Mini-Makoto!" He cries. Makoto can feel the eyes of distracted cafe-goers on her back, but she pays them no mind.

"It's good to see you," she says, and bows.

Officer Kagawa pushes himself half out of his seat, bobbing his head in a close approximation of a bow. His laugh is a bellow from his belly. "It's been too long. Too long. I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch. The job pays havoc on your personal time." He pats his stomach. "Not to mention your diet," and he howls again. "How are you? How's your sister?"

"Sae's good," Makoto replies, eyeing the chair across from him. "May I sit?"

"Absolutely," he says, gesturing. "Please, please."

Makoto sits and smiles at this man who worked alongside her father for so many years.
"Heard she's really making a name for herself at the SIU," Kagawa whispers, as if the information were confidential. "She put away that bastard Kamoshida, yeah?"

Makoto nods. "Yes, she was involved in the prosecution of that case." Though, now that I think about it, wasn't that a conflict of interest? She shakes her head. She didn't have the time to think about that.

"How have you been?" She asks.

The man shrugs. "Eh. You know. The job is the job. It takes its toll." He picks up his phone, smiling, and runs his fingers across the screen. "Here, check it out!" He turns the phone towards her. Two smiling little girls grin up into the screen. "Look how big they got!"

Makoto wants to swallow, but stops herself. She had forgotten Officer Kagawa had children. "They look healthy," she replies, and wants to kick herself at the dumb response.

His smile breaks for a moment. "Well, that's thanks to their mother. Living out in the mountains, you know, they got a lot of clean air. Not like this place." He waves his hand in a slow circle above his head. "This place is a cesspool. Not somewhere kids should grow up." He frowns. "No offense."

Makoto shakes her head. "No, it's quite alright." She doesn't ask the obvious question, why his children are living with their mother somewhere out in the mountains. "I'm sorry to reach out to you like this. I know you must be very busy."

He grins. "I'm never too busy for Akihiko's kids."

Makoto stiffens at the sound of her father's name. It's strange. She hasn't heard it spoken in so long. It's always been 'Dad' or 'Father.' Never 'Officer Akihiko Niijima.' She can't stop herself from swallowing this time.

Her reaction must be obvious, because the glee fades from Kagawa's face. "Three years already." He sighs. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but that's not enough time to forget."

"No, it's not."

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Like I said, I'm fine." Makoto tries to reply with cheer.

He shakes his head. "No, you didn't say anything. You said your sister was good. I'm asking how you are."

Confused. Scared. Angry. "I'm alright," she says. "Really. But I did want to ask you something." She puts herself back together and says, "To be honest, my friend and I need your help."

She tells him the situation. Spells it out, as clear as she can make it. He listens, asks no questions, and when the story is complete, he leans back in his chair and sighs.

"Geez," he mutters.

"Do you think you can help us?"

"Your friend is Haru Okumura, as in Okumura Foods?" Makoto nods. "And her fiancé is Rin Sugimura, as in the Sugimuras?" Makoto nods again. "Geez," he repeats.

"I'm sorry," Makoto says. "I know it's a lot to ask, but we're out of options and we don't know what else to do. Sugimura has been leaving her these disturbing messages. I'm afraid that if we don't get the authorities involved, and soon, she may be in danger."

Kagawa drums his fingers across the table. "These messages, you have them?"

"Yes."

"And they're clearly from Sugimura's phone? It's clearly his voice?"

"They are."

"Why come to me?" Kagawa asks. Makoto blinks at the change of subject. "Why not take them to your sister?"

"Sae..." Makoto starts, but cannot finish. What could she say? Sae's intervention only made things worse. She focuses on Kagawa's face. And this? Will this make it worse too? "I came to you because of your relationship with my father. I wanted to give the evidence to someone I could trust."

Kagawa reaches up and digs his thumbs into his temples, rolling them slowly, slowly, slowly. Then, he lets out another sigh that grows in volume until it turns into a groan. "Alright, fine. I'll help."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." He leans forward and taps the table with his forefinger. "But you need to be aware of what you're doing, yeah?"

She stares at him. "What I'm doing?"

"The Sugimuras aren't people the police can just shove around."

Shove around?

"We'll need to be smart about how we go about this. Rin Sugimura, from what I've heard, is a little shit. But his father's a big player in politics. This may come back to bite you in unexpected ways."

Makoto shakes her head. "I'm prepared for that. So long as my friend is-"

"Are you? Are you really? Because one thing they could do, and I'm just spitballing here, is ruin your sister's career."

"Wh-what?"

Kagawa drops his head in exasperation. "Mini-Makoto, tell me you thought about that. Your sister is a Public Prosecutor, heavily involved in the SIU. The SIU relies on the goodwill of political factions. If Sugimura decides he wants to pay you back for his son's stupidity, then he could make an enemy of them." He shrugs. "Then again, the SIU is backed by some powerful people. But, the SIU could also decide that they'd rather not get into a pissing match, and just can your sister right there and then."

The words are barbs, cutting into her. "But that... that's not-"

"Fair?" Kagawa asks. He doesn't elaborate. They both know what they could say. Your Dad got hit by a truck. What part of that was fair?

Her father's friend sets both hands on the table and expels a good amount of air. "Look, I'm sorry. I just want you to be prepared for what could happen. Politics and law enforcement don't generally go well together." He leans forward. "Why don't you let me hear those messages?"

Makoto nods. "R-right. Haru is bringing them. She should be here any minute."

He arches a brow. "She didn't come with you?"

"I had a few errands to run before I came here. She'll be meeting us soon."

Kagawa frowns. "How about you try calling her, then? To see where she is."

Makoto nods and pulls out her phone. There are no new messages. No voicemails. Nothing. She dials Haru's number and holds it up to her ear. It rings and goes to voicemail. She tries again. It rings and goes to voicemail.

Makoto begins to feel the dread creep into her.

She tries again. It rings and goes to voicemail.

She lowers the phone and texts a message.

MAKOTO: Haru where are you?

She waits. No response.

"No," she whispers. "Oh, no."

#

As Akira moves to enter Untouchable, a young man in a hoodie shoves past him. He flashes Akira a glare, then stomps off down the street, a plastic bag slung across his back. Akira rolls his shoulders and steps inside the shop.

Iwai stands behind the counter, as always, hat low across his face. He counts a few yen across the counter. Flip, flip, flip, flip, as he lays them down.

"Good haul?" Akira asks.

"Mnnn," the older man replies. He takes up the bills once more, counts them again and, evidently satisfied, shoves them into the register.

"So," Akira says, suddenly very conscious that this is his first conversation with the man where he's been aware of his past. "What's up?"

Iwai doesn't look at him. He moves out from behind the counter and heads down one of the aisles. "Hey," he growls out. "We're closin' early. If there's anyone in here, time to go."

No response.

Iwai continues his inspection, stepping around and over merchandise. When he returns to the front, he still doesn't look at Akira. He goes to the door, and locks it.

Hoo boy, Akira thinks. His mind begins to race. What did Iwai want with him?

"I don't believe in excuses," Iwai finally says. "But that doesn't mean I don't believe in regret." He turns to him. "Anyone who ever tells you that they've lived a life with no regret is a damn liar."

"Uh, okay."

"We all do things. Things to survive. Things we think we need to do to survive." He straightens at this last part. "It's one thing to regret, it's another to shy away from it. I am what I am. I did what I did." He moves a step towards Akira, and his foot bumps against a loose box. He stumbles a moment, and scowls. Then he lifts his head and looks at Akira. "What'd you think of me?"

Akira stares back at him. "I don't know much about you."

"I asked you what you think of me, not what you know about me."

Akira sticks his hands in his pockets, and frowns. "You let some shady kid pawn a bunch of stuff off in your perfectly legitimate store. You get that same kid burner phones and gadgets that are possibly illegal. Sometimes you tell him how to use them. You also asked that same kid to watch your son while you went to some strange meeting, and you haven't told him what that's about yet." Akira musters himself up, and says, "So I think you're sketchy as shit, but I don't think you're a bad person."

No need to bring up the yakuza connection. Who knew what Iwai would do if Akira mentioned that, 'Oh yeah, and you also used to be in the Dragon Syndicate.'

Iwai grins then, but it is a painful thing to look at. "You need to understand that sometimes you don't have good choices. That sometimes your choices are shit."

Akira does not like where any of this is going. "Look, if this is about me babysitting Kaoru again, you can just go ahead and ask, it's no big de-"

"Dammit, Kurusu," Iwai spits. "Get serious."

Akira lifts his hands. "Okay, sorry. Bad joke."

Iwai frowns. "I don't mean to snap. Look, you got family?"

Akira swallows. "I do."

"What're they like."

"Not your business."

Iwai guffaws. "That bad, huh? Maybe we got some things in common after all. My mother was nuts. The bad kind of nuts. Drinking. Drugs. Sleeping with anyone who had two coins to rub together. All with me sitting in the kitchen, thinkin', 'When's dinner coming?'"

Akira averts his gaze. "Sorry to hear that."

"Yeah," Iwai says. "Yeah." He scowls. "I did... I need your help," he says. He reaches out and places a hand on Akira's shoulder. "I did something. For Kaoru. And it-"

Akira's phone vibrates. He reaches for it.

Iwai swats his hand away. "Ignore the damn phone."

"Whoa," Akira says, and takes a step back. "Look, I don't know what this is, but maybe you should calm down." He takes his phone out.

"Kid, listen," Iwai says, but Akira isn't.

MAKOTO: Call me! Haru's gone!

Akira brings the phone to his ear. It rings once. "Akira?" Makoto's voice, but manic and high.

"Makoto, what's happening?" Akira asks.

"Akira," Iwai growls. "I need to tell you-"

Akira turns away from him. "...can't reach her," Makoto is saying. "We were going to meet with an old friend of my dad's, but she's not answering and I don't know where she is. She isn't answering."

Maybe this is like the day at Shibuya. Makoto panicked when Haru went missing, but it all turned out to be fine. Except, it hadn't been fine, because Akira had accidentally sent Haru to the Metaverse. And he hadn't done that this time. What if it's that guy? Her fiancé? Akira feels his heart begin to pound in his chest. "I'm on my way." He lowers the phone. Looks at Iwai. "I have to go."

"This is important, kid, you don't-"

Akira isn't listening. He shoves the door open, and spares nothing more than a, "So is this," before taking off down the street at a sprint. "Makoto?" He says, phone back to his ear. "Tell me where you are."

#

The sound of a car door opening jars her.

Haru's eyes flutter open to catch the receding back of Sugimura as he walks away from her. The door to his car is open. Haru tries to take in her environment. They're in some big parking garage.

Panic slams into her like a wave. It pushes the dreariness out of her veins and she starts fumbling around with her pockets.

Phone? Phone? Where was her phone? She rips it from her pocket.

No bars. She tries to call, but nothing happens. She sends a text to Makoto, a hastily constructed string of words that mean little, but it rejects.

Wherever they are, her phone is useless.

She crawls towards the door. Sugimura, in his mania, may have forgotten he left it open, or perhaps he figured that the stuff he'd used to knock Haru out would last longer.

She inches her way forward, then stops.

Sugimura is not alone.

A tall man, muscular, with dark eyes, stares down at him. He is flanked by other men, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, their clothes the ritzy, glamourous apparel of gangsters.

Haru tries to contain her gasp, covering her mouth with her hand. Are they yakuza? Why was Sugimura meeting with yakuza? What were they planning on doing?

Sugimura spreads his hands wide, and Haru can almost feel the sick grin on his face. "Afternoon, my friend," he says, words echoing through the garage.

"What're you doing here?" The big man asks, arms crossed, frown on his face. "If you're here for that one girl..." He snaps his fingers. "Nanashi, what's the name of the one we gave him?"

One of the yakuza answers. Haru can't hear the response.

"That's it," the big man replies. He turns back to Sugimura. "If you're looking for her, she's working."

"Actually," Sugimura says. "I had an idea about that. I was so pleased with your product last time, I figured you could help me with my troubles."

The big man sighs, reaches up, and rubs his temple with one hand. "I've got a lot on my mind, kid. Get to the point."

"I told you," Sugimura says, and steps away so the yakuza members can see his car. "That I was having problems with my fiancée, right?"

Haru ducks back behind the door, and out of sight. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. He's brought her here? Why?

Think, she commands herself. Think, think, think, think!

"What about it?" The yakuza boss asks.

There has to be a way out. She scurries across the floor of the car and tries the other door. Nothing. It's locked. She tries to pull up the knob to get it open, but it won't move.

"I was thinking," Suigmura says. "That maybe you could do to her what you do to your other girls. Make her nice and obedient. I'd pay handsomely, of course."

Haru wants to throw up. She tries to force herself to ignore what's going on outside, but she can't. She begins to shake. She's trapped here. There's no way out.

"I'm tired of running after her," Sugimura continues. "Tired of her disrespecting me. After seeing how well your girls treat people of my stature, I thought, 'Hey, why can't Haru act like that?' With a little help from you, of course."

She hugs her knees to her chest. Squeezes her eyes shut. Someone, help. Help me. Get me out of here.

You already have a way out, says a voice. She opens her eyes.

The phone.

She pulls it out. Still no bars. But she was wrong. There was still something she could use on it. She digs through her brain for all the information on Palaces Akira had shared.

Sugimura has a Palace. His Palace is his car. I'm in his car! If she could get into his Palace, she would disappear from reality. She had no idea what to do then, but at least she wouldn't be here.

She hears the big man speak. "The woman you're engaged to, it's Haru Okumura, right?"

"Uh-huh," Sugimura says.

"The daughter of the CEO of Okumura Foods, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"And I'm guessing she didn't come here willingly, did she?"

Sugimura laughs at this. "Of course not. She's unconscious and in the backseat of my car."

Haru pulls up the app. Shifts to Sugimura's name. I need his distortion, right? What he thinks his car is? "Castle," she whispers.

"No Match Found," says the phone.

"So," the big man continues. "You knocked the daughter of Okumura Foods' CEO unconscious, with the intention of drugging her up so much that she doesn't know what's real and what isn't, and you brought her here, to me, because you figured I could help you with that?"

"Uh," Sugimura says, suddenly not sounding so sure. "Yeah."

"Mansion," Haru whispers.

"No Match Found."

The sound of flesh hitting flesh, accompanied by a shriek of pain from Sugimura.

"Palace," Haru blurts.

"No Match Found." Because of course that isn't right. That's just another type of Castle, Haru scolds herself. Think!

"You stupid limp dick little shit," the big man says, his voice so cold and quiet. "Have fucking dumb do you have to be?"

"I-" Haru hears Sugimura moan. "I thought-" Again that smack. Again that cry.

"That's your problem, kid. You don't know how to think."

"Garage," Haru whispers.

"No Match Found."

Think, think, THINK!

#

Kaneshiro flexes his knuckles and stares at the prone form of Sugimura, who clutches at his face and stares up at him, wide eyed.

Even his bones had felt soft.

He feels Nanashi step up behind him. "Boss?"

Kaneshiro nods. "She was never here," he says, stepping over Sugimura. "This kind of mess is too much of a pain in the ass to clean up, so we won't let it become a mess."

"Wh-what?" Sugimura asks, and sits up.

Kaneshiro ignores him. "Muzaki, take care of the girl. Once you're done, drive her out to the bay and sink her, deep."

"Hold on," Sugimura mumbles. "That's my wife."

"Fiancée," Kaneshiro says, and kneels down next to him. "And you'll have to find another." He reaches out and closes a fist around the boy's neck. "I don't care what you think of me after this, but if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, including your father, you will die."

"My father will-"

"Your father," Kaneshiro cuts in. "May well disinherit you for the bullshit you pulled today. Do yourself a favor. Once we take that girl out of the car, get back in it yourself, and drive away. Pretend this was all a bad dream." He pats Sugimura's cheek and stands. "Muzaki."

The man nods, and strides towards the car.

"And don't pull any shit with the girl before you off her," Kaneshiro says. "It'll be bad enough if someone finds her. I'd rather not have to explain why she'd been deflowered."

Muzaki grunts in response, reaches the car, and throws the already slightly ajar door wide open. He stands still, frowning.

He turns back to Kaneshiro. "Boss?"

Kaneshiro walks up to him, and his enforcer steps out of the way. Kaneshiro bends down and peers inside. The car is empty.

##

A/N:

Hey gang, I'm about to hit the road.

Got something of a family situation going on. I'll do my best to update on Monday, but at the moment, there's no guarantee. I wouldn't call this a long hiatus or anything, just something that'll take the weekend.

Thanks for reading!