Hamuko goes back to work almost immediately. Any longer and they wouldn't be able to play it off as a quick vacation, and now more than ever they must keep up appearances. As it is she feels suspicious for having taken any time off at all – considering the convenient timing of her "vacation." She sees no one new or strange on her commute to work, sure, but that means nothing. They could suspect nothing – or at least nothing of her – but it is far more likely she's just not being observant enough.
(Plus, it's Tokyo. There are always new and strange people. It's hard to weed out which are dangerous or not.)
She falls into the routine with relief. Staying home one more day might've led her to insanity. Not knowing anything about yourself lends itself quickly to boredom, apparently. One day of – possible, unprovable – moping was enough, and now she's just been itching for something to do, however repetitive.
The easy rhythm she has with Boss provides extra comfort, and she's able to tune her thoughts out in favor of doing the menial tasks required of her. When she first started working at Leblanc, she used this time to think, but she's had quite enough thinking in the past few days. It's nice to just do her job and exchange mild pleasantries with the regulars.
The time passes quickly and comfortably. Akira makes his way downstairs at some point for a bit to eat. He has his hood up, which is quite frankly more suspicious than if he just left it down and ate like a regular person. It is not as if the regulars know he's the Phantom Thief that died, and regulars are all they get.
As it is, there's an old couple throwing glances at him. The ones that come in and order a single coffee and curry and stay for hours, and they just arrived, leaving plenty of time for them to wonder about Akira's sanity. They're the only customers, but it's still best if they avoid as much suspicion as possible. She's about to tell him to just take his food upstairs, she'll clean it up herself if she has to –
The door chimes, and time freezes.
She sees Boss tense first, then Akira, which means it's not a regular. They're suspicious of new people now, and rightfully so. She turns to greet the newcomer – it'd be weird not to, and the other two are frozen – and is welcomed by a familiar face. The tension leaves her body.
Ponytail, turtleneck, slouch. Aragaki Shinjiro takes a seat in front of her. Different turtleneck – this one is black – and no Koromaru this time, unfortunately, but the same projected air of nonchalance and default irritated face. He gives her a barely noticeable smile, not even glancing at the other two – or Morgana, who has conspicuously made his way downstairs. "Black coffee," he grunts more than says. Pause. He takes a breath and continues softer, with more diction. "I don't care what blend."
Time returns to normal. Akira subtly grabs his plate and makes a quick escape upstairs. Morgana starts to retreat with him, but remains in full view on the stairs, probably to keep an eye on Shinjiro. Boss gives him a once over and returns to his work almost reluctantly.
"Hello, Aragaki-san," she says pleasantly, turning to look at their selection of coffee. She's not sure what he'd like, and she doesn't have a personal preference herself; she doesn't drink coffee. Boss relaxes a fraction of an inch behind her and starts up a curry for the old couple. She picks up a jar of beans and turns back to Shinjiro. "Just a simple Blue Mountain work for you?"
Shinjiro snorts. "Sure. Told ya to call me Shinjiro."
He's technically correct, since he'd only given her his first name when they'd run into each other, but that's his mistake for also giving her his business card before she metaphorically bolted home to check on Haru. She can't be expected to call him anything but his last name at first. She doesn't remember him.
"Listen, I know the other guys have made sure you can't contact them," he'd said. "But I don't take orders from them. Here's my card. Call me if you need anything."
She's looked at the card so much in the past few days she has it committed to memory, even though it wasn't really necessary once she added his number to his contacts and wrote down the new information in her journal. Aragaki Shinjiro, it reads. Head chef. Hamuko wouldn't have pegged him as a chef based on her original observations, but she can see it in him now.
"Alright, Shinjiro-san," she concedes, starting to brew his coffee. She can feel three sets of eyes burrowing into her as she sets to work, but she ignores them. "No Koro today?"
"Didn't think the café would allow dogs," he says gruffly. Morgana's ears flatten in the corner of her eye and she shoots him a stern look. She is not dealing with Shinjiro hearing a talking not-cat right now, on the very strong chance that he's a Persona-user like she is. He's correct anyway, even ignoring Morgana, but that doesn't stop her from being disappointed. Koro is the only thing from her past that she remembers with any amount of clarity, and it was nice to be able to touch him and prove to herself that he's real.
She goes back to wiping the counter while she waits for Shinjiro's coffee to brew. He has to be here for a reason. It's not as if he just randomly decided to go to a café and it just so happened to be the one she works at in the back alleys of Yongen-Jaya. "So, you're here for a reason?"
Shinjiro doesn't respond for a moment, accepting the finished coffee she slides in front of him and taking a sip. "Akihiko told me where to find you. We need to talk."
"Away from prying ears, I assume," she says when he fails to elaborate. "I get off work at 5."
He nods an acknowledgement but continues to not elaborate. "This is good," he remarks, taking another sip. "Figured it would be, though."
"Thank you," she says. She's not sure what he means by that, but she can always ask later. There are more important things to talk about right now. "Do you want to meet anywhere in particular?"
"There's a shrine Koromaru likes nearby. I can send you the details." He pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through it, signaling a complete end to the conversation. For the best, really. She has work to do; she can't spend her whole shift talking to the most interesting bit of her past she's found so far, no matter how much she might want to.
But she can spend the rest of it thinking about what he said. What did he mean, 'figured it would be'? Was she especially known for making good coffee before? She doesn't even like coffee. The Blue Mountain she gave him is the only one she's found barely tolerable so far, but that doesn't mean anything.
It's frustrating how much more other people know about her than she does, that they say things they assume she knows the meaning of, and she's left to puzzle it together while missing more than half the pieces. She lets herself think on the pieces she has while she works. Thankfully, the old couple doesn't seem too keen on staying too long today, and they pay and leave quickly.
Akira wanders back downstairs after a while, just as Shinjiro is finishing the last dregs of his coffee. "Hey, Hamuko," he says casually. "You get off at 5, right?" He throws a glance at Shinjiro. She does her best not to roll her eyes, only mildly succeeding. Morgana must've told him about their conversation, that snitch.
This is why she's a dog person.
Hamuko glances at the clock. 4:23. Shinjiro's been here for going on an hour, taking his time finishing his coffee. It's well past when school ends, so she's surprised she hasn't seen a single Phantom Thief burst in so far. Though, that might be because Akira texted them to ward them off – unnecessarily, she might add. "Yes, but I'll be busy. Can whatever you want wait until later? I'll come back."
"Of course," he says, still trying to keep his voice light, and only marginally accomplishing it. "If you're going out, will you bring Morgana? He's been getting antsy."
She gives him what she hopes is a reassuring and not at all annoyed smile, but honestly – she's an adult. Memory or no, Akira's still younger than her, and Morgana is a cat. What do either of them think they can do to protect her from Shinjiro? Especially in the real world, where they do not have Personas to rely on. "No, sorry. Shinjiro-san here will be bringing his dog, and you know Mona doesn't like dogs much."
Shinjiro interrupts to hand her the money he owes. "I'm leavin'. Text me when you get off."
"Alright, Shinjiro-san," she says. She gives a smile for extra measure.
He huffs and walks out. The second he's out the door, she wheels on Akira, hoping she doesn't look as exasperated as she feels. He just wants to protect her, she knows, because her lost memories make her more vulnerable. She makes sure it's just them – and Boss – and tries for a patient tone. "He'd be able to hear Morgana, Akira. He's a Persona-user."
Akira frowns. "It's not Persona-users that can hear Morgana, it's people that have heard him in the Metaverse."
"Can you prove that?" Hamuko asks. "Is there evidence that it works that way, or have you just been assuming because you don't know of any other Persona-users?"
This gives Akira pause. He clearly searches for an answer but gives up and changes his line of thought. ". . . How do you know he's a Persona-user?"
How does she know that? She hasn't been directly told, sure, but. . . it makes sense that he would be. "I don't know – I just do. He's a Persona-user, he's the Moon arcana, and I trust him."
Akira accepts this, which is to be expected. He has a Moon arcana too, she supposes. Not one she's ever met, but she's sure he has one – just as she is sure she has a friend for every major arcana. (This doesn't seem to make any sort of logical sense, but it is something she knows to be true.)
"And I really would bring Morgana if Shinjiro-san weren't bringing his dog," she adds more for Morgana's benefit than for Akira's. "If he promised to be quiet."
The not-cat gives her a suspicious look but allows the subject to be dropped, thankfully. She wasn't in the mood to argue with a cat. (Actually, she's never in the mood to deal with Morgana, but more because he's a cat and that's weird than because of the cat himself. He's perfectly pleasant, if a bit childish.)
Akira makes his way back upstairs reluctantly to get ready for the Phantom Thieves, and she finishes the rest of her shift in peace. She leaves in a hurry, rolling her eyes when Boss tells her to stay safe as she lets the door close behind her. She needs to run home quickly before meeting up with Shinjiro, so she hurries to catch the first train and makes it home in record time.
First order of business: get changed. She'll still smell like coffee and curry, but less so if she changes her clothes. She could shower, but she doesn't want to keep Shinjiro waiting longer than he has to. Hopefully changing her clothes is enough.
She pauses in front of her mirror and carefully pulls her hair into a ponytail, deftly sliding in the bobby pins – XXII – to make it as close as to who was before as possible. When she's done, she takes a step back, admiring herself.
Crème sweater, patterned orange skirt, leggings, boots. It feels familiar, comfortable, but it's missing something. It's always missing something. Everything she does, everything she wears – missing something.
Ugh.
It'll have to do.
She texts Shinjiro as she leaves Haru's house, and he sends the exact location in response. One of Haru's drivers offers to give her a ride, but she declines. She's been cooped up in the house too much lately, and the crisp winter air feels a bit refreshing.
It's already getting dimmer out by the time she reaches the shrine Shinjiro described to her, though it didn't actually take long for her to get there. A consequence of winter that she's never been a particular fan of.
He's leaning on the swings, watching Koromaru run and play with the limited number of school children that are left playing at the park this late. Hamuko takes a seat on the swing next to him, observing. He's wearing a peacoat now, with his hair down and a beanie on. Something familiar twinges in this set up, but she can't bring the memory to the forefront of her mind.
Shinjiro remains standing, not even glancing at her as she gently rocks the swing back and forth, but he does hold something out to her, wrapped in a piece of orange cloth. She takes it and gently unwraps it.
Headphones, along with an old-looking mp3 player that's attached to a pink lanyard.
"Fuuka wanted you to have those," he says. "She made them for you, before."
She takes the lanyard and sets it around her neck, attaching the headphones to the mp3 and hanging them around her neck as well. It doesn't make her feel complete, per se, but something in her relaxes. The comfortable weight of the headphones on her neck is soothing – this was one of the things she was missing, definitely.
The cloth they were wrapped in flutters a little in the wind. She holds it up and lets it unravel. It's a scarf. She assumes it was used to wrap her headphones because it is also hers. She loops it into her skirt and ties it in a knot at the front, since she's not really cold enough for a scarf right now.
They sit in silence for a while, which Hamuko doesn't mind in the slightest. It's comfortable like this, in the quiet. The only interruption is the sound of Koromaru running around with the schoolchildren. This is something she can tell she's done a million times before – with or without Shinjiro – and she can't really put it past him to have chosen this deliberately.
"You used to take Koromaru on a walk to the shrine every couple days," he says, reading her mind. He says it so quietly she's not sure he said it in the first place, but he's looking at her when she glances up.
She opens her mouth to ask for more details, to find out anything about who she was before, but she changes her mind. If they don't want her to know, it's likely Shinjiro isn't allowed to tell her. He seems willing to tell if she asked, but she won't put him in that spot. "There was something you wanted to talk about," she says instead. "So talk."
He takes a deep breath and shoves his hands back into his pockets. "Mitsuru asked me to talk to you."
"About?"
". . . The Phantom Thieves."
Oh.
He says it almost reluctantly, as if he won't press the issue further if she chooses to say no. And it comes to this; if she is asked to betray the Phantom Thieves for whatever reason, who would she choose? People she doesn't remember but knows, or people she remembers but doesn't really know?
"The Phantom Thieves?" she asks lightly, keeping an eye on the children around them. There's only a few, now, but she'd rather they not overhear whatever they end up discussing. She is not choosing a side – not yet, not now – but she never told them she associates with the Phantom Thieves. "The ones on TV?"
He snorts. "We just need to know what's happening. We're in a position to protect them now, but we need to know why, or if we should. Things aren't looking too good for them."
"What do you want to know?" she asks cautiously, still wary but a little more relaxed. If they're offering protection – that's good. Even if the Thieves don't want it, she wants it for them. They don't have to know they're being protected.
"She wants to know how they change hearts," he says. "We know about the Metaverse, but not how they do it."
Oh, right. She has an explanation for this, but she doesn't think she's a very good source. "I haven't gone with them. I know there's – something called a Treasure? And they steal it, and it takes away all the bad parts."
Shinjiro thinks on this for a moment. "No chance for harm?"
"No," she shakes her head. "They said that there's no chance for harm if it's done correctly."
"Did they kill Okumura?"
She doesn't even have to pause for this one, even though she had never worked up the courage to get a clear answer out of them. They wouldn't have – Haru wouldn't still be a Phantom Thief if they did. "No."
"Okay," he says, not even asking for an explanation. She wouldn't give him one if he did ask, and she's sure he knows that. "I'll go now."
Had it been any of her other friends – the old ones, the ones she doesn't remember – would they have left it at that? Would they have trusted her word so implicitly? Maybe so, maybe not. But Shinjiro apparently does. He whistles for Koromaru, already on his way out the shrine.
She wants to call out to him. She wants him to – stay a bit longer or something – but she doesn't really have a reason, and she told Akira she'd show up tonight. Ah, the folly of promises. She sits on the swing a little longer, though, messing with the mp3 player.
It's charged – probably Yamagishi's doing – and she puts the headphones over her ears and presses play on the first song that comes up.
Dreamless dorm, ticking clock –
She starts on her way to Leblanc, allowing the music to carry her through the long walk and subway ride. Soon enough she is in front of the door once more, pushing it open without hesitation and taking her place on the nearest barstool. The Thieves are in the middle of a discussion. They stop whatever they were talking about once she has settled in and removed her headphones.
"I didn't die, as you can see," she says to Morgana, who stands on the counter next to her.
The cat huffs and sticks his face up. "Well excuse me for being worried."
"So why am I here?" It's so tempting to ruffle his fur, but she knows if she did he'd be mad at her for eternity, so she holds off.
The Thieves exchange looks. "We want you to join the Phantom Thieves," Akira says. "We're about to tackle a huge Palace and without Akechi. . ."
"I already told you –" she starts, shaking her head.
"We talked about the Velvet Room, too," Akira interrupts. "I explained it to them. We need you with us to figure it out, or I'm just doing it on my own."
Whatever the Phantom Thieves are facing – that isn't her battle. She's already had her battle. But the Velvet Room. . . no, no, it's still not her battle. All she's needed for is when they get to the Depths – beyond that, this is their fight. She will not interfere. "I can't."
"We could really use your help, though," Ann says. The others chime in their agreement.
They really aren't going to let this go, are they? She sighs in exasperation. "I'll consider it. Is that enough for you?"
They begrudgingly accept this as the only answer they're getting out of her at the moment, and they continue the meeting, concluding pretty soon after. Hamuko tunes them out the entire time with music. Not her battle, not her business.
She gets up with Haru as the meeting concludes and gratefully accepts the offer of a ride home, since they're going to the same place. Hamuko would move out into her own place, since she has a job now, but it's not as if she has a legal ID or anything of the sort.
(She has tried to pay rent to Haru, but is always refused, annoyingly.)
They ride in silence. She uses the opportunity to listen to more music, enjoying the familiarity of it. After a while, Haru shakes her and motions for her to take her headphones off.
Her phone is ringing. This time, she knows the ringtone – it's her old phone again. She untangles it from where it's clipped on her skirt and flips it open quickly. "Hello?"
Crackling, but no answer.
"Hello," she tries again. "Theo?"
"Hamu –" his voice cuts out. "- sorry –"
She shoots Haru an alarmed look. "Theo, what –"
"Made – mistake – sorry –"
The call ends. She flips her phone closed and tries to process it. Theo made a mistake? What does that mean? What mistake?
Why was the signal so terrible?
Haru is looking at her with worry. "Are you okay, Hamuko-chan?"
She shakes her head. "I don't know."
It's hard to explain it to Haru, because she doesn't understand much of it herself, but she tries her best. By the time they reach home she's just ready to go to bed. She'll think on the call tomorrow when she has the mental energy to.
She wishes Haru a goodnight and closes her bedroom door, barely pausing to throw off the extra clothes she doesn't need and immediately collapsing on her bed. She spares some energy to pull the comforter over her and is asleep the second she's covered and warm.
Red.
There's so much red.
She's in Mementos, this much is immediately obvious, but it's much deeper than she's ever seen in the real world. Cages full of people – Shadows of people? – surround her. In front of her is a towering thing, too bright to discern.
"They thought they could deceive me," a voice bellows. Somehow, she knows it belongs to the bright thing in front of her. "Look upon the price of their trickery."
Her eyes are pulled down to the base of the thing, where a huddled form sits on its knees, hands outstretched and chained. Her dream-self steps closer until she can see the shock of blue hair against the red and black background, now dimmed by dirt and grime. His eyes are closed, and his breathing is shallow.
"Minato," she breathes.
"You would've been a valuable pawn in this game," the voice ponders. "Know this, Arisato Hamuko. Without him, you are useless. And you will lose."
