Chapter Twenty Seven: Fretful Breather
A few hours prior…
Everything had happened so quickly, from the moment she got the call from Boss to her uneasy walk to LeBlanc. The café was usually a sight for sore eyes, but the tone of recent days made a horrorshow of it. The people gathered in the ground floor made it look no different to the waiting room in a hospital, where a patient's loved ones were kept in suspenseful tension for news to come. Tae Takemi prayed silently as climbed the stairs.
Many eyes laid their weight on Tae's shoulders. Their silence lingered, waiting for any utterance on her part. Any groan or sigh, or even the slightest variation in her breath could break the levee, and give way to panic. She was aware of this, so she kept quiet like a grave while she worked. The lighting in Akira's room was too dim for her liking; it did not make her work easier, and she hoped her expression would not be misinterpreted by his friends, and Sojiro.
"Hmm… He doesn't appear to be unconscious, so there's that. He's responding to stimuli. It's more like deep sleep." Doctor Takemi spoke. Her voice in Akira's room was quieter than she may have intended. "Not the first time I've seen something like this." She turned to Futaba with a discreet smile. "I'd really like if this was the last time, but there's just not knowing with you guys."
The slight reproach in her voice was lost to nobody. If there was any comfort to be had, is was that Akira no longer seemed to be frozen in the strange trance from when they came out.
"I…" Sojiro Sakura began.
"Just let me know as soon as he wakes up. Even if this is just exhaustion, I have to make sure he suffered no brain damage." Despite her calm exterior, Tae experienced an intense struggle within. She may have tested the flexibility to the Hippocratic Oath during the days when Akira Kurusu was her 'guinea pig', but she feared she had downright ignored it by not speaking out sooner.
A strange conduct led to a fever, and a fever led to this moment. But in between the last two, something else had occurred: Akira's and his friends' disappearance, something that did not seem the main priority in this moment. She suspected that even if she said something, it would not have mattered. She was prepared to accept that something was occurring beyond the coldly observable.
If, or when Akira proved sound, she would hear the truth to it all. But there would time for that. Though awake, the rest of his friends looked a few steps beyond concerned – they looked affected, and vulnerable.
"Alright, kids. Time for a quick checkup, just in case." Doctor Takemi prepared herself for a long night.
Meanwhile, a small, feline sentinel kept watch over Akira. Makoto and Futaba would be joining him later that night.
[ ]
Sadayo Kawakami accrued the wear of several years within a short span from blame wrongly placed on her shoulders, and a tortuous sense of obligation that followed suit. Aside from her job, from her calling as a teacher, she had to take on a second gig – as a maid - to make ends meet. Despite stress and taboo, she stayed on this path without a second thought, all the while strictly maintaining both occupations separate. She would have hardly thought so back then, but this pace may have broken her eventually.
She knows it came dangerously close at times.
Looking at herself in the mirror every morning, the first thing that fetched her attention were the bags under her eyes. When she could bring herself to joke about it, she wondered if that was where she stored what remained of her dreams – if her path to guide a generation of young people to becoming competent, responsible adults had turned to sheer exhaustion. She never once considered that the greed of Takase-kun's relatives was corrupting her attachment to her dream, for she had long accepted that responsibility. She never once turned to resent Shujin's principal for pressuring her to help the young man no more…
… Because all she saw was a young man who needed her help. A young man who died in tragic solitude.
It was actually by chance that Taiki Takase passed away, and it was by chance that she came to truly know Akira Kurusu. She could have never guessed at the peculiar symmetry of circumstance about to unfold one night, when three Shujin students decided to call for a maid. In the ensuing turn of events, the only one she saw was Kurusu-kun, the alleged delinquent she was initially so unenthusiastic about supervising. But he became the guardian of her secret and her guilt, and her friend.
Throughout those days, she felt the story with Takase-kun repeating itself. She feared a similar outcome, but she could not turn him away. For even if this shunned kid was truly what everyone claimed to be, he was still a young man who needed his homeroom teacher's help. And in the end, he lifted the fruit of blame off her shoulders, and helped her begin to heal… with a little help from his friends, his fellow Phantom Thieves.
Akira Kurusu entered her life a little over two years ago. Upon first impression, the first thing that came to mind was quiet. Now, at the end of a carefree day after work, quiet was the first, the only thing come to mind when she saw him.
Once again, it was only by chance that she became involved. She ran into Yuuki Mishima, another former student of hers, that evening in Shibuya, after visiting a fortune teller in Shinjuku. Mishima always was a somewhat awkward boy with a transparency that made him easy to read, yet he bore a shine to him, like untapped potential waiting to spring. And he did begin to show some of this brilliance, specifically after Suguru Kamoshida turned himself in for abusing and molesting students. Though Mishima was now far more confident, he was still just as transparent.
Sadayo read him easily.
No effort on his part could hide the urgency of a serious matter. The beads of sweat on his forehead, the look in his eyes, and the tremble that ran him through were unnerving confirmation. And all he offered as means of explanation was that a friend needed his help. Despite his insistence against it, she accompanied him to a little soda joint nearby.
Everything then took a turn for the surreal.
Outside the place, she saw a small group of people gathered near a side entrance leading to a dark alley. All had worried, tense expressions, and at the same time they seemed intent to avoid unwanted attention. They acknowledged Mishima with a discreet nod. Sadayo approached with caution, and instantly caught sight of two familiar faces. Ann Takamaki and Ryuji Sakamoto, former Shujin students both.
Then the door of the side entrance creaked open, and Sadayo's heart toppled over. And fear took cruel hold of her heart.
Out came Akira Kurusu, feet dangling in the air, eyes wide open but unseeing. Limp. Quiet, like a dead person. Sojiro Sakura and a lean young man she did not recognise carried him along quickly but carefully. Others followed close behind - mostly former Shujin students. She instantly recognised Makoto Niijima and Haru Okumura. Futaba Sakura, who was currently in Sadayo's homeroom was also present, as well as up and coming artist Yusuke Kitagawa. There was also a cat who accompanied them a bit too precisely.
They got Akira inside a car parked nearby in the alley. Makoto climbed in the back seat with him hastily, followed by most in the group. A man in a long grey coat took the driver seat and started the engine.
Many things burst forth in Sadayo's head, the first one was how decidedly certain she was that Akira did not look drunk out of his mind.
"Where are they taking him?" She asked Mishima with barely contained alarm.
The young man hesitated for a second, unsure if it would be sensible to tell.
"LeBlanc."
Next thing she knew, she was riding a taxi with all who were not in the car, bound for Yongen-jaya.
An hour later, reality dissolved into a cacophony of footfalls inside of LeBlanc. People came and went, compelled by the same sense of uncertainty and worry. Some exchanged guessing looks only to turn away immediately. It was becoming clear that everybody knew, but nobody thought of saying it out loud: This event was no ordinary occurrence. Akira was one of the Phantom Thieves, and suspicion rose that the circle of friends gathered upstairs were peers of a roguish kind. By that logic, a great deal of things suddenly made sense to Sadayo.
Ryuji, Ann, that boy Yusuke from Kosei, Haru, Futaba, even former student council president Makoto – it was strange that such a diverse group came to be after Akira first came to Tokyo. It must have been more than affinity at work. It had to have been purpose. Sadayo could kick herself for failing to see that beating heart past the shallowest of appearances.
She could hold herself in place no longer. Sadayo made for the stairs up to Akira's room, a place she knew more than she would care to admit. But a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned around and a sensation both hot and cold ran all throughout her body. Her eyes followed, tracing a line across the long, grey sleeve, to then find the sombre face of the man who drove Akira and his friends to LeBlanc. Sadayo could not describe how she felt; whether she was intimidated by Iwai Munehisa's imposing appearance, or if it was something else altogether.
That was only the first impression. It was the gaze he threw her way what held her feet to the ground. He was not smiling, but he looked at her as warmly as he could manage, shaking his head to tell her that she should be patient. Sadayo's presence, his own, and that of all gathered in LeBlanc tonight was not a one time commitment. Time would come to put their shoulders to the wheel. For now, all they could do was wait.
A few minutes passed.
One by one, several of Akira's friends climbed down the stairs, followed by the café's owner and the neighbourhood's doctor. Their expressions were undecipherable; they were clearly joyless, but also devoid of total defeat. Ann in particular caught her eye. When their eyes met, Sadayo felt as if the young woman tried to convey something: a plea for help, a call for reassurance? But from where the professor stood, she could not really tell who of the two needed it most.
The youths mingled quietly amongst the rest, no doubt catching everyone's eyes from the conclusion everybody was reaching. Boss took his usual spot behind the counter; he looked at each face, examining their mood and guessing at their uncertainty while he searched for the right words to say. His eyes lingered on a woman with long, silver hair. She nodded at him with the gravity of somebody who has just made a difficult decision.
Sojiro cleared his throat loudly to get everyone's attention.
"Thank you, all of you for coming. It's been a rough patch of days, and I appreciate you all getting together to help. It seems Akira… will be fine." This expression of gratitude alone seemed to take a lot of him; the sudden collective relief brought a sad smile to his face. "I'm not gonna beat around the bush. We all know that something bad happened and it's not something I can easily make sense of. It's bigger than what we can do, and that also goes for the police, it seems."
He bit his lower lip for a moment, metabolising the explanation Makoto and company gave him back at Arancia. While he did not doubt them, he still could not begin to truly believe it - that a strange enemy used Akira to create an almighty enforcer, luring the young man into this world to facilitate its awakening. The details on Shadows, on Akira's clones, and Nyarlathotep's abilities and intentions could well make his head spin. But at the same time, he had the disappearance to consider, his present state and his behaviour before they went missing.
And something else, that by now he was not convinced he actually was imagining the red curtains.
"D-does this…" Sadayo stammered, instantly making everybody turn in her direction. All at once, she wished she could take her words back, unsay them and shield herself under the comfort of apparent uncertainty. But the image of Takase-kun pulled at her sleeve every time her eyes lingered on the staircase. "…. Have anything to do with the Phantom Thieves?"
Akira's friends all turned to look at each other. They looked surprised, but they knew it was not use hiding their role now.
"Yes." The silver-haired woman answered without a hint of doubt. Sadayo noticed how much the woman resembled the former Shujin Student Council President. Somewhat intimidated, she realised this was her older sister, Sae Niijima. "The situation at hand seems to be drastically different from their activities from over a year ago. But this is most definitely within their field."
"What exactly is this 'thing' we're talking about?" Iwai asked brusquely.
"It's… complicated." Boss admitted.
"I'm sure we can all hear a fully nuanced explanation soon enough." Sae spoke. "For now, all we can know is it's urgent."
"And the cops can't do a thing?" Tae asked sourly.
"It seems so." Sae lowered her gaze.
A discouraged murmur ran through the café. All the while, Sadayo felt like ravenous, impending doom was lingering above them. The memories of Takase-kun were compelling to run, to lock herself in her apartment and drink herself to oblivion.
"I don't like to say this, but it seems only the Phantom Thieves can fix this." Sojiro spoke once more. "And if I understand what the kids tell me, it can get pretty bad if they don't. And this means…" Anger pushed a sigh out. "It means they'll have to go back into… wherever they hell they've been."
Tae looked at Sojiro in disbelief. Everything about Iwai's body language was a curse with no end. Sadayo felt a shudder running her frame through.
"Is there something we can do?" A young man spoke. He seemed to be an Arancia employee.
"Well…" Sojiro began, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.
"There may be." Sae snatched the response from him. Boss looked at her in a shock, and in response, he got a look from Sae that doubled as a reminder. She had meant to talk to him about her epiphany, but the sudden reappearance of Makoto and her friends took priority. "It's not a huge certainty yet. There is still… much to do, and discuss. But if I'm right on my assessment, they won't need to face this threat alone."
Everyone's eyes were on her. Sadayo stared agape.
"I also am very thankful that you all are here. It's a gracious gesture. But… I won't pressure anyone into this… but if you would want to help us, and help the Phantom Thieves, I'll recommend that you stay in contact." The elder Niijima said.
"Sign me up." Iwai spoke without delay. Everybody echoed the man's words in quick succession. Everybody but Sadayo, whose eyes were still on the foot of the staircase. Nobody noticed that she stayed quiet. The scene at the café turned livelier as everybody exchanged numbers. The idea was immediately voiced that they should make a chat group to keep planning orderly and efficient.
The parallel of a new group chat to help the Phantom Thieves was not lost on Ryuji and the rest. Yusuke, in particular, seemed to struggle as he held tears back. For good and ill, he had been afforded a closer perspective at the way this conflict began; and even then, things had progressed too far for anyone to stop the disaster. It had been tortuous to see one who saved him from tyrannous bondage falling like this. It was no surprise that Akira's closest friends would fight for him. And now, others outside that intimate circle were so intent to help – and not just Akira: these people wished to help all of them.
There was no celebration to be had at the end of the evening. But the spirits were reinvigorated by work of duty. Though almost nobody would leave the place for a couple of hours to come, Makoto, Futaba, Yusuke and Haru would be staying the night at the café to keep watch on Akira. They would also talk with Boss and Sae about the latter's idea. Ryuji wanted to stay the night, but he desperately wished to see his mother, to tell her the truth about him, about being a Phantom Thief, and all that would likely entail soon. The young man knew she would understand, but it would be insurmountably hard. Ann decided to accompany him to give her boyfriend support. In a few hours, Iwai would be driving them both.
But one person stood transfixed in a cold sweat of torment. Sadayo Kawakami could not even think of going home after hearing what was discussed. And to her further sorrow, she could not shake off a haunting image, how Akira and Taiki suddenly started to resemble each other so much. The last time she saw Akira, he looked more dead than alive, and the last time she saw Taiki, after Kobayakawa coaxed her into stopping tutorship…
Suddenly, something burst inside of her.
"Let me stay. Let me hear and understand, all of it! Whatever you are planning, please let me help you!" The words came out of her mouth like demons exorcised out of her body. She had to do this, and not only for Akira – she would do it for Ryuji, for Ann, and everybody whose pain she could not, or would not see.
Nobody told her no. In fact, she seemed quite welcome into the discussion at the booth with Sae Niijima and Sojiro. The last thought in her head before plunging headlong into subject was amusement at how Futaba Sakura would get to see a different facet to her homeroom teacher, similarly and not at all like Akira Kurusu once did.
Little she did she know at that moment, she would be glad to have stayed. Had she given in to her fears, she would not have seen Akira climbing down the stairs later that evening, safe, and alive.
[ ]
"Shit fuck." Ichiko Ohya rubbed her eyes, grown weary from staring at the screen for so long. She would be damning Yuuki Mishima if not for the importance of the affair. It sounded like he was on to something concrete when he contacted her, but that seemed so terribly short-sighted now. He meant to find everyone who had been directly or indirectly helped by the Phantom Thieves as a way to help them find their way back.
Even if they did find that information, what could they actually do with it? True, there was the probable notion that perception was no small matter in the world of the Phantom Thieves, if her subtle scrutiny of Akira Kurusu's words was accurate. But that was hardly of any use now after reading Mishima's latest text.
Akira Kurusu and his friends were back.
That put a bright note to her day. In fact, it made the past few days, the sleep deprivation, and stress worth it. And yet, the boy found a way to put a damper on that by failing to reply to her messages demanding for an update, to know if they were alright. Yuuki's sudden silence rubbed her the wrong way, especially considering how swift and long his messages were every other time.
This made her suspicious, and concerned.
Was Akira alright? Were his friends?
Had something happened to Mishima?
Ichiko shook her head, dashing away this inner line of questioning before she scared herself into paranoia. She would pay him a visit after sunrise. For now, she may as well distract herself since she may not be able to get any sleep for a few hours to come.
Her thoughts returned to Mishima and his plan, or rather, ghostly semblance of. Gather information, and somehow use it to guide his friends back after disappearing out of thin air, no traces left behind. Despite his link to the Phantom Thieves, could Yuuki Mishima have been out of his depth in his attempt to help them, after they disappeared like this?
That kind of thing just does not happen, she thought to herself, interpreting the electronic buzzing of the equipment in her office as discreet agreement.
Something like that could only happen to extraordinary people like the Phantom Thieves.
For curiosity's sake, she browsed for the news post on the disappearance occurred at Arancia. She was hardly surprised to find it brimmed with the cheap, sensationalistic tone she expected modern media to approach it. But then, one thing caught her eye, not in the article itself, but on a similar topic posted just below.
The disappearance of a businessman. One Susumu Kamiyama, Chairman of the company White Pheasant. Ichiko herself bought some of those products, so the news was somewhat relevant to her. But as soon as she clicked on the link, her keen eye focused on one very particular bit of information: the date. It was the same as the day Akira and friends disappeared. There was no statement from any spokesperson in the company, or rather, nothing alluding to Kamiyama-san actually having disappeared. This could all be a vulgar invention of the website to get more traffic – clickbait, plain and simple.
The date could also be a mere coincidence.
But why go through the trouble when there are far better ways to encourage views on a news website?
She had no reason to look further into this, but she knew herself well. She could not stop herself when she got going; that was how she developed a habit she struggled hard to kick. When translating that behaviour into her line of work, she came upon an idiom of her trade which she found distasteful: it was called following on a hunch.
And this, in spite of herself, was certainly one. Quite sharp, and annoying, at that.
Another search result revealed something she found quite surprising. Whereas many entrepreneurs and people with deep pockets had a negative, or neutral stance on the Phantom Thieves of Hearts, Susumu Kamiyama belonged to a distinguished few who openly supported them. A statement of the sort could be considered counterproductive during the economic and political climate of the time. White Pheasant's public image has always been a clean, sober one. Subversion as means of niche-oriented PR does not fall in line with the company's ways.
And yet, this statement was very clearly the man himself. It was even recorded on video.
As Ohya began to explore other search results, the idiom transformed into another she liked even less.
She was now following the white rabbit.
