Arc I Finale: Heart(s) Stolen, II

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"A rainy day," Sojiro muttered, behind LeBlanc's counter. "You'd think customers would come flooding in to warm themselves up."

In truth, there were more customers than usual, but for Sojiro, the downtimes between felt longer. "Feels like I'm passing a kidney stone, waiting for him," Sojiro muttered, hazily looking at a slow-cooking, chocolate-brown curry bubbling up carrots. "...Stupid kid."

He then took a stray spoon to taste. It was warm, tasty, the cocoa coating the back part of his tongue. "Cradle for the soul," he said, slightly relaxed. "A tried and true thing. The kid would benefit from tried and true things. You can't screw that up." He then sighed, with a newfound disappointment. "As expected." He then tossed his spoon in the sink. "But then...you'd get the same thing. You'd never get anything...different."

He pulled out his phone. Maybe...I can call him another time.

"Then again..." he smacked his lips. "...I don't usually call men on this phone."

His face became more steely. "Screw it." He put away his phone. "I know the answer already."

He sighed heavily as he leaned on the counter, looking out towards the wet windows the same way a fish peers out of a fishbowl. A goddamn prison, huh? "Maybe I'm just too used to the same thing."

"You sure about this, Ren?" she said, out with Akira at the back entrance they came from earlier in the morning.

"It's fine. I need to do some last minute stuff in Shibuya anyway."

"Ok." She blushed again, though not as intensely as before. This is not good for my heart. Blasted umbrellas... She stepped back under Ren's umbrella. "It's not too far away from Central."

By this time, the walkways were now a line of basins mirroring the skyline, distorted only by the pair's footsteps.

"Hey, Ren."

"Yeah?"

"...You're not dragging anyone other than what we've specifically outlined, are you?"

Ren kept on walking, trying not to be startled. "What do you mean?"

"...You seemed familiar with that blond kid. I remember now that was Sakamoto-kun. The person you were truant with."

"What about him?"

"I hope...he isn't leading you into something problematic."

Shit. Shit. Don't go poking in.

His eyes narrowed in a slight anguish.

...Please. "What, more than what I signed up for?"

"...I didn't mean that kind of trouble."

"He's just a friend. That's all. He's just loud...and not the brightest."

"...So I've heard," she said, recalling his yelling on steps.

He forced his hands into his pocket and steadied himself. "Other than that, he's a nice guy. He invited me over yesterday for Mother's Day."

"Invited you over?"

"His home situation isn't the best. He just wanted me along for Mother's Day. We ate, we talked, we played some games. One involving knights and castles and such, if you can believe it. That's all." He straddled the back of his head out of self-consciousness. "I guess I'm the only guy friend he's had for a while."

She sighed. "And vice versa I fear, given your reputation."

"Well, when there's a will, there's a way I guess," he replied, feigning a smile. "Better than nothing, considering what Mishima did."

"Damn Mishima...a part of me still feels like we let him off easy."

Akira grunted. "I suppose we have, in a way. The more you look at it, though, the more you realize he'll be a convict of his conscience. A conscience that'll probably need lots of therapy and soul-searching."

"I suppose so. Though I can't lie that there's another part of me that prefers a less 'abstract' idea of punishment. But...I guess that doesn't change the cause." Her mind then went back to the previous question. "'So, uh, 'only guy friend,' huh?" she said, playing with a loose strand of hair down her neck. Am I...his only "girl" friend, then? She blushed nervously at the fleeting thought. "He wouldn't happen to be this supposed 'friend' you were doing a favor for at the beginning? I remember from Kawakami he had some issues with Kamoshida in the past."

Damnit. I got to shut her down quick. "Look, he's not going to do anything. It's been a year. If he was going to do anything to Kamoshida, he could have done it then."

"Fine. I'll trust you on this, then. Though...it would be regrettable if you were wrong. For your sake." She paused. "Video games..." she then said inquisitively, only to turn sad afterward. I guess that's what normal students do outside of school then."

"Normal? C'mon, there's something you have to do other than studying. It's only natural."

"W-well...I do watch movies and read books from time to time. But those times where I can are far and between now."

"What type?"

"Umm...anything?"

Akira smirked. "Are you just being modest?"

"I'm serious. I...well..." Her face became more flushed, from pinkish to rosy red. "I like...a-action movies with slow-motion shootouts...a-and post-apocalyptic films with bikes and chains and flames and..."

Akira chuckled. "Ok, I get it, you're a movie buff." He then paused a bit; something earnest was stuck in his throat. "Maybe...we can..."

"What?"

He bit his tongue. "Nothing." I'm getting distracted. Though..."To be fair, I am a fan of martial art films myself."

"O-oh, like "Like A Dragon," or 'Chop Foo Young?'" she said with creeping intensity.

Akira gave a hearty laugh. "Pretty much."

"Y-your parents let you watch that type of violent, pugilistic entertainment!?"

He now had a sheepish grin. "...I didn't say my parents did. My sister did though. We'd sneak out and pretend we were helping over at our Uncle's place. Uncle had our back; he covered for us, believing that such movies weren't going to turn us into homicidal maniacs."

Makoto giggled slightly. "Well, looks like you had some fun when you were growing up. Unfortunately, I don't have that type of experience under my belt. My dad and Sis didn't care too much when I was growing up. They prefer though I study more, and that grew to be a bigger portion of my time as that went on."

"And mom?"

"Can't say. I was too young to remember fully. Plus, she was a quiet lady. Dad said she'd like to talk with whatever face she made instead. I guess that makes it hard as a kid to discern what she thought of things."

"You miss her much?"

"...Occasionally," she said, keeping a measured appearance. "Occasional regret, but there are other things going on that demand more of my attention." She paused. "Ren, pardon me if I ask a bit of a rude question. How did you feel, when your Sis died?"

He stood still, scratching the side of his head while his ideas settled. "Well...I guess for me, I started out by bottling things in. In the past, it was worse. I never tried to think about these things. I regret doing that. You just lose touch of your human side that way, getting locked up in your room, thinking it's your fault, all the time, that your loved one is gone and that you've let them down." His eyes darted down. "My uncle, the traditional coot he is, suggested praying to altars. I still do, from time to time. Pretending she hears me when I light my incense helps. Lately, though, it seems like the best way to get past that is to honor their memory in whatever they do. I guess...kind of like with your Dad, I assume."

Her heart sunk. "It makes sense. For me, though, it leaves me this question: what if, like the other adults, my Dad left some of his baggage on her daughters? I don't think I can really answer that question. I haven't really thought of it before, and, because I'm having such a hard time with it, it frustrates me even more."

"Makoto..." He then took a step closer. "That's something I don't really think about." He then stared steadily into her eyes, smiling. "But I'll try. I guess, for me, rather than asking that question, I go back to what my mom said recently. To sum up, we are all just the sum of different things we come across. All we can do is just...do right with we have, and adjust as time goes on." He shrugged. "In the end, you just have to believe in your ability to change, I guess."

"...Change, huh?" She sighed in relief. "Learning new things is a joy in it itself, after all."

A few minutes later, the two found themselves in front of a regular-looking apartment building. They shielded themselves for the time being under its concrete awning.

"Well, this is it," she said, her voice slightly shaky.

"You nervous? She messaged you at all yesterday, after that stuff at the cemetery?"

"N-no...I don't even know she's alright, to tell you the truth. I assume she is. She's, well, a competent drunk. Even though she's not the clearest-sounding drunk."

"She'll be fine. If not, she'd be detained and cited. They'd let her go this morning if they had to."

"You're right," she said, her pained look loosening only by a bit. Her nervous stuttering came back. "You know, maybe if things don't work out with Sis, I suppose I can always sleep on LeBlanc's cushions from n-now on."

"I'll make sure to get a night light if you do."

"Not funny!" She then punched him playfully, forgetting again how hard and how surgical she can hit.

In a matter of seconds, Ren found himself slightly hunched over, the wind knocked out of him. Solar plexus...and square on it. Goddamnit, Prez.

She clasped her mouth in shock, her voice now rapid-firing. "I'msorryimsorryIgettoointense!"

"It's ok. It's endearing." He coughed for a few seconds, then stared in her eyes, beaming. "Honest." "Now, it'll be alright. Get going."

She nodded back. She took a few steps forwards towards the apartment door but darted back for one final, reassuring look from his obsidian eyes. "I'll text you later about what happens. Well...good luck. And well, thanks. For everything."

"You can say that when you're helping me study for midterms, starting after tomorrow."

She forced out a laugh. "I guess I'll have to, after what I just did. See you later, then."

"See you later...Queen." He turned around to walk back to Central. ...I hope.

Morgana peeked out slowly. "Is this umbrella big enough? Am I...going to get wet?"

"Not unless I get a water bottle and pour it over your head."

Morgana sighed. "You know, I remember what you said the other night. And, well, after what happened, you gonna be alright?"

"What you mean?"

"I mean, well, her. She's sharp enough to start making connections. It's only a matter of time. You think she'd be ok with your plans, if you take this further?"

He exhaled through his nostrils, long and slowly, wanting not to think more about what Morgana said. "Still worried I'll flake?"

"Please," Morgana pressed. "I don't think so. Though after hearing how you are with her, I'm just worried to be worried. That Prez situation would be tough to handle. Don't tell me how I know. I know how it feels."

"...I'll be ok. Maybe. You think when we get to that Doomsday scenario, and if I think I'm wrong, could I pet you to feel better?"

"...You can't be ser-"

Akira darted his eyes upwards at the clouds, hoping to clear his mind.

Morgana sighed. "It's like watching an impending car crash. Fine. Just for that time, Akira. Don't overdo it, though, when you do."

Akira smiled. "Thanks, Morgana."

"You're welcome. I'm not a cat though. Remember that."

If it mewls like a cat...Oh, whatever. "...I know, Mona. I know."

"The Skorpion today?" Iwai said.

"Yep," Akira replied.

"You're really getting into this."

"Seller's remorse?"

"Please. Money is money."

Akira zipped his submachine gun into his backpack. "You think I qualify for that premium?"

"Heh. Not a chance. You're still getting peashooters in comparison to what I have in the back."

Akira chuckled. "What, you barter on the side?"

Iwai's smirk showed Akira his lurking opportunist.

"Fine, I'll get some junk next time, I'll hock it off so you can get your hustle."

"Smart kid. Though I'm smarter by selling the stuff at a higher price."

Akira remembered the date, 4/23. "Hey...this is going to sound stupid."

"Probably will be."

Would he...eh, maybe? "I've heard of this Akihabara place?"

"Techie wonderland. Also, maid cafes." He then glared from his magazine. "Don't be the loser that picks the second one."

"I won't, jeez. I just wondering...I'm heading there either way. Would there be a chance they sell discontinued children's items?"

"Ow, these transistors are poking into my side," Morgana yelled from the bag. "Even with your last-minute gift padding me from them."

"What, you don't like needles?" Akira replied, a bandage on his arm from a quick stop to Takemi's, quid pro quo. "I got jabbed with needles today. It's fine."

"C'mon, YOU'RE NOT FUNNY! HURRY UP!"

"Brat. Just hold on, we're walking into LeBlanc. I'll dump this stuff upstairs."

Akira appeared out front of LeBlanc. He was able to open the handle when he froze for a brief moment. He was still aware of his little vent yesterday and braced himself for a china saucer to the face when he opened the door.

He cleared his throat one last time and took a quick breath.

He turned the knob and pushed forward. Sojiro was behind the counter, polishing off one of his cups. He took a brief glance, and his eyes steadied. "Good. You're back," he said casually. "Turn over the sign."

"But...it's still light out," Akira replied, teetering between confusion and anticipation.

"Yeah...well...we need to talk."

Oh boy..."Lemme drop this, upstairs quick, before you chew me out."

"Right..."

Akira dropped his duffel bag of materials under his bed for the meantime. Can't be too careful, after all.

"You think he's actually going to kick you out?" Morgana whispered.

"No clue," Akira said, despairing slightly. "I just hope his not yelling at me is a good sign. Just relax in the meantime."

He trotted down, imagining the cup in Sojiro's hands flying towards his face instead of the saucer on the counter.

Reaching the ground floor, he saw Sojiro empty-handed, breathing a small sigh of relief. "What is it, then?"

Sojiro then walked from behind the counter with an apron balled up in his hand. "Put this on. I want you to do something." He then saw Akira's face, contorted from bewilderment. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I'm just surprised you aren't strangling me now."

"I can strangle you if you want. I'll do the next best thing." He held out the apron. "Now, put it on, end of discussion."

He put on the apron, keeping an eye on the old barista. "Look...about yesterday..."

"Later. Now...make me a cup of coffee."

"...Seriously?"

Sojiro nodded. "Your own type of coffee."

Akira then scanned the rows of coffee containers for the longest time. "My own?"

"Beans, temp, stew time. Try your hand at it."

Akira squinted his eyes at Sojiro for a moment. "Fine...though it's your tastebuds."

"Don't make it crap."

...He's probably going to complain regardless. Best I go for something that I think is good. I suppose the Blue Mountain was good the last time. He reached for the top of the shelf to get them. He then saw a brand from Guatemala. Maybe...mix?

"School's ok?" Sojiro said calmly.

"...Alright. I drone out most of the time. My reputation precedes me, it seems."

Sojiro sighed. "Not just the teachers, eh? And on top of whatever you have?" Sojiro blew a cold jet of pity from her mouth. "You aren't being loud, at the very least?"

Akira smiled nervously. "...Not last-night loud."

Sojiro grunted.

"Ok, ok, I'll answer seriously. No, not really." He scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. "I try not to. It's just...a lot of crap to take that's all. Just has to come out at some point."

"Yeah. Well, you'd be surprised how much crap people can take before snapping."

"Tell me about it." Now, the coffee filter. He only made coffee using standard filters. Under the barstools, however, he noticed a glass cup with a plunger on top. I think I've seen this before. French press, I think? I guess I'll try...He grabbed the plunger-looking thing.

"At the very least, you're making my life easier by giving me nothing that I have to your report probation officer. I have to report to him twice a month, and he's nosy and wastes time."

"He reminds you of my record?"

"All the damn time. It's only a couple of preliminary meetings, but I'm already annoyed."

"My condolences then."

"You really do flip-flop, don't you? Now, today, you decide to act all repentant?"

Akira shrugged. "I guess I'm conditional like that."

"...Or a punk teenager." Sojiro darted his eye down, imagining his inner self. "Like all punk teenagers, last time I remembered."

Akira now walked back to get some water simmering. "You were one of those punk teenagers, it seems like."

"Which is why I say being a pure idiot is not the best route to go."

Akira furrowed his brows. "I'm not stupid, you know."

He rubbed his brow, trying to think of better words to say. "Stupid? I guess not. Foolish maybe."

"How is that any better?"

"I guess you're an informed idiot. Though, that just makes you dangerous. Take it from someone who has seen more than you so far."

Akira shrugged as he pulled away the simmering water to pour into the French press. "Perhaps, the world needs more fools."

Sojiro sighed again, heavier this time as Akira pressed down the plunger. "Stubborn. You really don't want a normal life again? He leaned forward on the counter. "You know, being loud isn't going to reverse that."

"I know."

"...And even after everything...your Mom said...what your Uncle said...you don't want something less...turbulent? You don't get tired getting treated like a pain in the ass?"

"It's nice to belong." Akira paused as he set out the saucers and tilted the press to pour. "I guess, though, the more I think about it, the more I realize I'm not a creature that craves convenience."

"...So it seems," he said solemnly. "At the very least, can I ask you a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Whatever foolish thing you plan on doing...you own up to it. Just don't drag anyone into it, if you're smart as you sound."

Akira froze for a brief moment. "...You know, if you felt convinced I'm doing something stupid, you should try your best to stop me."

The bags under Sojiro's eyes were crinkled. "Yeah well...your little verbal 'crucible' last night told me I ain't got the energy nor the time to do that. But you...you still have that." He held out his arms openly. "Which is why I am going to let you do...whatever you please."

Akira cocked his head, staring confusedly at Sojiro. "I thought giving me that spare key of yours meant that already."

"Consider this a formal declaration. I should have made it clearer that that key was for letting you close up without me. In the back of my mind, I still expected you to come back when I was around. That your little lady friend would calm you down enough not to do anything adventurous, rather than...well, 'adventurous.' Now, you decide when you come back. I won't wait for you. I won't excuse straight up dumb, hooligan shit like crimes, but the rest is fair play."

"...Are you sure? I mean, I didn't have a need for it, but..."

"I mean it. Nobody needs to get dragged down by idiots like you. Your uncle would probably approve anyway, enabling son of a bitch."

Akira couldn't help but clear his throat in an attempt to make way for something to say. Maybe something a little bit more agreeable...

Sojiro then smiled, giving Akira a wicked case of emotional whiplash.

Akira then slowly began to understand that, despite his veil of anger, Sojiro was at ease, as if he was letting go of a weight off his shoulders.

Sojiro opened his mouth again. "At the very least, let me tell you how to make a damn good cup of coffee. Show you the ropes."

"You mean, be actual part-time help?" Akira said slowly and warily. "What are you actually getting at?"

Sojiro raised his cup and tried the frizzy-haired boy's brew. A small sip and his tongue felt a blast of smooth acidity. The punk's almost got it...but... "A bit bland. Good for your first time." He then took a deep breath. "What I'm getting it is that I don't have the energy for taking this operation to the next step. There was a time where I had that dream. But, life got in the way." His voice got deeper, his tempo. "I...had a daughter, and I hoped I would show her the ropes so that, once she grew up, she would take over the shop. That didn't work out too. Life got in the way. Before I even tried."

"What happened?"

Sojiro shrugged. "I don't know."

A part of Akira felt like pressing through the vagueness. But seeing Sojiro's disappointment kept him silent and lending an ear.

"You're not pressing," Sojiro continued. "That's good. You should do that more often instead of talking. It goes a long way in my field of work."

"Seems like you're just pigeonholing me."

"Well, just make the coffee for yourself at least. You wanna sip it on the street, back at home, or in a shop of your own. At least you'll have options." His eyes dimmed. "You think I can at least try? You wouldn't even be on the schedule. Just...give me the chance I didn't take."

"...Ok. I'll let you try." Akira felt like looking away. "Look, I wanted to study for midterms if you don't mind. I hope I won't be making coffee into the night."

"First, try what you made."

Akira finally took a sip of his coffee, while Sojiro lectured more. "Good ingredients, slightly bland profile. Blends are always tricky the first time. You just have to experiment a bit with the ratio. The French press was a good choice."

Akira felt guilty, after receiving the faintest of praise. "Sorry about yesterday."

Sojiro smirked. "Well, it's like I said the first time you came here. I didn't necessarily say you were guilty of assault. I said you got sent here because you're a pain in the ass."

And so, Akira smiled back, not at a warden, but at someone lending a watchful eye. "Maybe...I'll make a few more cups, then. To get the balance right."

"...My throat hurts," Sae groaned, lying flat on the couch ensconced in a couple of blankets.

"Your fault," Makoto said, sitting next to her and staring at her in consternation.

Sae smiled weakly as she grabbed her cup. "I guess the sick day was needed then." She then looked at the notebook laid on the coffee table in the living room.

Makoto saw it too. "That looks like..."

"Dad's."

Makoto looked down at her sister sadly. "A bit rude to head into my room."

"Sorry. I felt a bit nostalgic."

Sae then opened the notebook, still laid back down on the couch. "Dad's handwriting was always so terrible." She put it closer to her face.

"Suppose so."

Sae then yawned loudly. "God, I'm so pathetic."

"You probably should rest as much as you can." Makoto then felt guilty, about to say the next words. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

Sae blew a lazy strand of hair in front of her left eye, her hangover still in full force. "Makoto?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, Makoto. I made a fool of myself. I...make a fool of myself all the time, it feels like."

"Sis, I don't care anymore about yesterday. I-"

"No, not just that. The world goes to hell. On the verge of another recession, people are literally losing their minds, and here I am, holding on with booze. I'm just pathetic."

"I don't think before now, we were ever fine. I still don't. Drives me nuts. Look...I hope you don't take what I say too seriously. I-I don't mean it. It's just my anxiety getting the better of me. Ever since the funeral, I've haven't really seen done my best with that."

She felt, for once, a lie to her Sis was justified, even if she felt Sae should own up somewhat for her actions. "I don't." She paused. "We are Nijimas. Hot-blooded at heart." She then grabbed Sae's hand. "I'm just glad you told me. It's small, but it's an important step."

She turned Dad's pages, loosening up a bit. "I still can't believe Dad would read us the unredacted stuff from his notebook as a way of telling us stories. What a blockhead." She then shut the book, rubbing its leather cover back and forth, hoping her Dad would rub off on her again. "I know I'm coming back tomorrow, but..."

"You can't put it off forever, you know."

"I know, I just...springs?"

"Springs?" Makoto said, lighting up.

"I just...hot springs next week?"

"I-I...guess so?"

"Please?"

Makoto smiled. "Ok, Sis."

"The full spa treatment, too," Sae smirked, albeit twitchily from the tightness above her brows.

"That's not necessary. We don't need to overspend, you know."

"Makoto! It's final," she said sternly.

"Alright, alright." Makoto then waved some chocolates over Sae's head. "I'll share in the meantime."

"Makoto...are you...but, your dumb diet..."

Makoto shrugged. "All things in moderation are fine?"

"Whatever." Sae grabbed the chocolates. "If you feel too indulgent, don't worry. I'll eat most of the chocolates."

Makoto chuckled. "All fine by me."

"Good. But tomorrow...I'll be back to getting results." Sae then smiled, staring steadily at Makoto. "I have to win after all. By any means."

Makoto kept on smiling, happy that Sae looked ready to head back to fighting against, as her Dad called it, the 'corpus of evil.'

And yet...

There was a part of her. A fear she held on, knowing she slipped once before. The one she now could see Sae falling to easily. The fear of getting addicted to winning.

She put that in the back of her mind. She figured for now...

She would now relish the small victories. If not Sae's, then hers.

And she did indeed feel like sharing her victory.

Night had come, and Akira was hunkering over his workbench, eyes getting heavy. He reckoned for a small moment, he'd close his eyes for a brief second.

He closed his eyes. In a blink, he heard the voice of the more refined Velvet Twin.

"We are to visit you, as you drift in between, to ask you heed our master's advice."

"Listen to it well, inmate!" boomed the Bratty Twin in the other ear.

Justine leaned closer to his ear. "...Do not be afraid...to let go..."

Then, he felt a sharp pain traveling rounding his heart.

"OW, FUCKING HELL!" Akira cried in agony, having tried the lower settings of his new weapon with his unguarded hand. "Feels painful." He smirked. "Definitely working. Haven't lost my touch." Good thing, though. If it actually did tap my heart...hoo boy.

He continued to muse. In the past, I definitely used a garage style mentality with my signature weapon.

An ignition coil with a solenoid to create some bulky taser sword? Inefficient. We live in an age of transistors, after all. And transistors are the easiest switches. Especially between my charging element and my coil.

He held up under the light a black rod, with a thick handle guard. Got to keep my charging caps protected when I switch to ground, after all. The solenoid turned transformer included. I suffer electrical isolation by jamming the two next to each other...but, tradeoffs? What can you do?

He groaned as looked at its bulky handle. Still, having to daisy chain batteries at its end doesn't make it the most ergonomic of things.

He then touched the flexible wire surrounding the body of the baton, its end weighted and sealing the wire. The wire's retractable too. A nasty surprise awaits the Shadows tomorrow, for sure. The last thought put him in a mischievous grin. "Morgana, you are indeed the Igor to my Frankenstein."

Morgana chuckled. "Please, it should be the other way around. So, you think everything will fit?"

"Should be fine."

His phone buzzed.

HER EXCELLENCY: Sorry, I know it's late.

HER EXCELLENCY: I...kind of preferred to speak to you over the phone

HER EXCELLENCY: But Sis is asleep, so this will have to do.

HER EXCELLENCY: I just wanted to let you know that you were right.

HER EXCELLENCY: She got back ok.

HER EXCELLENCY: We're slowly making things work

HER EXCELLENCY: It'll be hard, but we'll make it through.

She paused.

HER EXCELLENCY: Thanks for your support.

Ren smirked.

REN: For you? Anytime.

Akira then groaned in frustration. Tempting, but...

REN: Sorry, but I wish we could talk more.

REN: I'm going to try and get some rest if you don't mind.

REN: Sweet dreams :)

HER EXCELLENCY: ...What's :) ?

REN: ...It's a smiley face.

HER EXCELLENCY: Oh! I get it now. Sorry, I must look so silly.

HER EXCELLENCY: Night!

"Dork." He then set down his phone, only to buzz again.

RYUJI: Hey, we got this Calling Card! We never talked about a group name!

RYUJI: A band of thieves needs a name after all!

Another conversation popped up.

MISHIMA: Sorry to bother, but I just wanted to ask what you think you should be called.

Looking at the sword made him feel like a haunting was in order. A good ol' Phantom...to steal away desires. Or, at the very least, electrocute them to smolders.

He sent the same response to both. A mix of the old, and new.

4/21

All were brought to attention to the notice board, plastered with small, red cards with texts.

"A calling card..."

"I heard it was already posted by the time everyone got here this morning."

"...Are you kidding me?" Ann said, looking critically at the group of plastered calling cards. She ripped off one of the cards, the opposite showing a crudely drawn face with a red top hat, the words "'TAKE YOUR HEART" drawn in sharp lettering with permanent marker. She read its message out loud. "Sir Suguru Kamoshida, the utter bastard of lust. We know how shitty you are-'" She then groaned. "-and that you put your twisted desires on students that can't fight back. This will be done tomorrow, so we hope you'll be ready. From, the Phantom Thieves of Hearts."

She then heard more students, clamoring over what they saw on the phone:

"There's even a Phan-Site too!"

"Phan-Site? What a lame ass name! And just look! A polling bar asking 'Do you believe in the Phantom Thieves?' This has to be a prank. Has to be...

"There's all this crap about Kamoshida, and how Kobayakawa's covering up abuse too."

"Wait, are the rumors about those two true!?"

"What rumors are you talking about?"

"I dunno; that's what this article's been talking about here!"

"You read the School Newspaper?! Who does that!?"

She then heard a cocky voice behind her. One that was gratingly familiar.

"Pretty, cool, eh?" Ryuji beamed. "I looked up a bunch of similar things online for reference."

"And photochopped them together to get...this?" Akira said in disbelief.

"Amazing, huh?"

"...No," Akira deadpanned.

"Dude, it sounded like an idiot trying to be an adult," Ann said, walking behind Ryuji with her arms crossed. "Seriously, it feels like you just randomly looked up stuff in a thesaurus."

"Why can't you leave this alone, Ann?!" Ryuji cried.

Morgana popped out. "Sorry, but the Lady here is right about the Card. Plus, your logo was lacking."

"Lady Ann? What the..."

Akira kicked at Ryuji's leg to shut him up.

Ryuji remembered that humans don't talk to cats. "W-whatever, that ain't true. My card is genius!"

Ann groaned. "And the 'Phan-Site'? You guys...wow. Just...wow."

Akira's eyes dimmed. "You're just mad you're not on the plan. Sorry, but criticism, however valid it may be, isn't going to make us relent."

"What he said!" Ryuji yelled. "Wait, valid criticism?! You're still talking about me, aren't you?"

Ann's cheeks were hot-red. "I swear you guys...stop KEEPING ME-"

"WHO THE HELL DID THIS!" It was Kamoshida, now charging at the rapidly dispersing crowd and glaring at the notes. He then grabbed a newspaper off one of the students. He scanned it rapidly for a few seconds. The gist was clear to him, and he became apoplectic. He turned his bloodshot, bulging eyes on the three, Akira especially. Like a bull seeing red, he ran towards him.

Akira slipped his hand in his cramped bag, grabbing his baton in secret and preparing for the worst.

"...I'm SO going to enjoy dragging you out myself...with my hands around your neck..."

The air around Kamoshida became all purplish and staticky. His eyes also turned yellow, and Ann continued to stare off in the distance, frozen in time.

"And squeeze the life out of you...and HER, and MIshiMA, and, SAKAMOTO..."

"W-what the hell is going in," Ann quivered.

All of a sudden, in front of Akira and Ryuji, Kamoshida transformed into his Shadow Self.

"YOU COCKROACHES WANT MY HEART! COME AND GET IT!"

Everything then went back to normal, and Kamoshida stormed in the direction of the Principal's Office.

"What was Kamoshida even going on about?" Ann said. "About hearts?"

"Beats me," Akira replied. "But...I guess our plan isn't so stupid, after all. We got him scared." And, at this rate...we'll add Rollie Pollie to the list. Though...

How did she see that just now?

"How is getting Kamoshida nervous-"

Akira carted off Ryuji. "Oops, sorry Ann gotta go! Kthnxbai!"

"THAT DOESN'T WORK IF WE'RE IN THE SAME HOMEROOM, YOU IDIOT!"

As Akira walked away with Ryuji, he pulled out his baton and shoved it into his coat to have it closer. The situation warranted it.

"Jeez, dude, why'd you bring that to campus?" Ryuji said, mouth agape. "That's overkill!"

"You brought a gun to campus unwittingly," he deflected. "We're even."

"A FAKE gun."

"Look, just, LISTEN TO ME!"

Ryuji listened, his eyes now attentive. "...Akira, you ok? You don't seem like the 'uncalm' type."

Akira growled. "No, I'm not...ok. Just stay on guard for now. Ok? The last thing I need on my conscience is you getting beaten beyond recognition because of airing out his emotional baggage."

Ryuji put a hand around Akira's back. "I think I get it," he said, smiling. "Kamoshida isn't going to get the jump on me. Don't go worrying to death about me." He then gave Akira's back a quick pat. "See you later then."

As Ryuji jetted towards his class, that lingering feeling of unease didn't fade.

He observed from a distance, reasonably sure of where Kamoshida was heading to next.

Kobayakawa wrapped up. "Thank you for coming in. In light of you coming in person to apologize for your behavior, and for disclosing information related to the transfer student, I'll waive the past complaints. But I warn you, Takao-san. Leave the students and me alone, or face a disciplinary hearing. I'm not going to repeat it."

"...Fine," Eiko pouted, playing with the zipper on her book bag. "I should be on my way then." After bowing, Eiko tripped forward, hitting her head. "Ouchie."

"Are you ok, Takao-san? That sounded like a nasty bump on the head."

She grabbed under Kobayakawa's desk, laying her palm flat under and holding it there for a few seconds. "I'm ok. Excuse me. Class is starting, and I wanted to pass biology." She scurried off, keeping her head down passing Kamoshida in the hallway. I hope Umbrella Boy and Prissyma appreciate this...

It was good for her; Kamoshida at that point seethed at the thought of womankind bending their knees in front of him. Stupid Goody Two Shoes Nun of a Student Council President...this is all HER FAULT.

SHE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN HER PLACE.

SHE SHOULD HAVE STAYED QUIET, LIKE ALL WOMEN ARE GOOD FOR.

SHE SHOULD WORSHIP ME.

SHE SHOULD WORSHIP ME.

SHESHOULDWORSHIPMESHESHOULDWORSHIPMESHESHOULDWORSHIPMESHESHOULDWORSHIPMESHESHOULDWORSHIPMESHESHOULDWORSHIPMESHESHOULDWORSHIPMESHESHOULDWORSHIPMESHESHOULDWORSHIPMESHESHOULDWORSHIPMESHESHOULDWORSHIPMESHESHOULDWORSHIPME-

No...

She SHould...DIe.

He squeezed Kobayakawa's door handle, leaving indents as he turned it open.

He charged in, "WHAT IS THIS FILTH," Kamoshida yelled to Kobayakawa as he pointed to the newspapers scattered around the school. "Who signed off on this!? I thought that stupid FUCKING club had an editor for this!?"

"W-what is the meaning of this, Kamoshida-sensei!?"

"READ IT! READ IT and tell me who this reminds you of!"

Kobayakawa read it carefully despite being terribly startled. The writer, Eiko Takao, had kept things vague enough: No names, only a few details. But the details were damning:

A new student testifying about Kamoshida's alleged abuses, along with another first year, whose names were consciously kept anonymous "for journalistic integrity," as she called it.

How Kobayakawa, knowing about the student's efforts to put Kamoshida in line, made him conspire with Kamoshida to expel him.

The volleyball team's abuse, and one new member's role in leaking rumors about the whistleblowing student.

It didn't even matter to Kobayakawa if they were baseless. It was still an egg to the face. A rotten one. And Kamoshida felt convinced which two, black-haired, punk students were responsible for flinging it. Fuck It, I'll throw in SakaAmotO tOO.

Kobayakawa simmered. "...Apparently, a disgruntled one. This would never pass otherwise." He crushed the paper in his hands, seething. "Takao will answer for this, for sure." His head then started to hurt. "Still, I just don't understand why she'd head into her and let on about Kurusu and assaulting adults off of campus, then, if she wasn't working together with him on this RIDICULOUS paper."

Kamoshida snarled. "Perhaps she was SETTING you up then for something." He darted around. "Where is she?"

"She...just left."

"WHAT!?"

"You didn't get here in time!" Kobayakawa blurted. He then became short of breath, as the gravity of a potential student conspiracy began to settle in. One whose plan of action still wasn't clear to the now slightly damp Principal. "This...I don't know what they're getting at, but it is troublesome indeed. I...I don't...I mean, it seems contained to the school. It's just a kid...We can...hold a meeting about Shiho, protect our image, create a layer of deniability, and-"

"MEETINGS!?" Kamoshida raged, hammering into Kobayakawa's desk repeatedly. "You think, after all of this SHIT, we need meetings?!"

"Kamoshida...Suguru, please..."

"DON'T YOU FUCKING SUGURU ME!"

Kobayakawa was lost for words.

"YOU, you FUCKED ME! AND YOU FUCKED EVERYTHING" Kamoshida continued. His knees felt weak. He threw out his arms in exhaustion, his voice cracking. "You DONT. GET it...YOU NEVER DID."

"Please...get up..." he said, nervously.

"You never got...your hands dirty as I did. I DESERVE IT! I DESERVE TO WIN BECAUSE OF IT!"

Kobayakawa stood his head sideways. "I-I can't let you...act like this."

"Or WHAT? You're going to fire me!?"

"...If I have to. The school matters. I-It's a cost-and-benefit analys-"

"FUCK YOU! I'll handle this myself!" Kamoshida then rushed off, slamming the door behind har enough to shatter the glass paneling on it.

"My God...he's finally snapped," Kobayakawa said, his lip quivering. "I...don't think sending any Shujin nubiles down the way could bring him back."

In a flash, he pulled out the black rotary phone before and proceeded to dial, his stubby, shaky fingers barely able to hold traction in the dial wheel's divots.

Then, the dial tone.

An automated, monotone voice came on the line.

"ID 34. How much bags of garbage do you need disposing of?"

"3..." Eiko came back in his mind. "...Make it 4."

"Hold on." Then, pleasant elevator music. Another voice came on the line, this time, with a synthesized voice.

"4? Are you sure? This is a large order."

"I-I'm sure..."

"Stop whimpering. Keep in mind, my solution to your order will be at my boss's and my discretion."

"O-of course," Kobayakawa replied, his fatty furls slick with sweat.

"STOP. WHIMPERING. Let me see my schedule then." A brief moment of silence. "It seems I'll be backlogged until tomorrow afternoon. We'll be in touch."

The man with the electronic voice hung up suddenly.

Kobayakawa sunk his head, staring at his desk clock, the one thing he couldn't control. "Shit..."

Kamoshida was in the faculty room, fidgeting. Homeroom was about to start.

She SHould...DIe.

In his raging madness, it came to him.

...They WilL alL Pay...

He reckoned, as the apex predator he saw himself as, he'd start with the weakest link.

He trudged down to 2-D, hovering by the door. It only took him a few minutes before Mishima headed over.

He met Mishima, eye to eye. He saw the terror in his eyes. "Mishima...Gym. Now. We need to talk."

Mishima cleared his throat anxiously. He had no choice but to play along.

The two began to walk to the gym.

He trailed behind Kamoshida slightly, his head twitching periodically.

Even though his previous run-ins with Kamoshida weren't sunshine and rainbows, Mishima, seeing Kamoshida in this state, made him long for a spike to the face.

He told himself he probably didn't deserve help. That he probably earned whatever was coming to him.

But...the panic began to settle in.

Especially since they were about to pass through the gym doors.

It was something about the crazed look pushed into the sharp corners of his eyes. Something that made him fear for his life for the first time.

Outside of Kamoshida's cone of vision, he pulled out his phone quickly and began to text the first name that popped up in his contacts.

MISHIMA: Something's wrong. Kamoshida looks crazy. Being dragged to the gym with him.

MISHIMA: I think...something terrible's going to happen to me.

MISHIMA: Whatever happens...I'm sorry.

Kamoshida closed the doors to the vacant gym and turned around to find Mishima holding his phone.

He smirked, licking his lips. I'm GoiNG tO SavOR sHowIng you What IT means TO deFY ME!

He then struck Mishima's throat, making him drop his phone.

The phone's battery busted out on impact in his hand.."You're not calling anyone soon," he sneered. "Now...you stupid fucking rat. Break a leg."

He quickly thrust his foot on Mishima's right knee, sending the first year in screaming fits.

"I'll give you the Sakamoto treatment..and then some." His voice cracked again. "Maybe you won't breathe after. That's fine by me."

Akira was already at his seat, about to shove Morgana into his desk space so he could give the feline some needed room. Kawakami was busy unpacking her stuff, too preoccupied to declare the start of class, when his phone started to buzz.

It was Makoto. Calling.

Right before class.

An honor student like her straight-up calling? This is odd.

He answered:

"Ren! Thank god, I just got a text message from Mishima-kun. Something's off."

Akira got out of his seat, hurrying out of the room, and with Kawakami being none the wiser.

Ann though took notice of how Akira became so panicked, and considering she still has a list of questions to barrage him on what happened in the hallway, she trailed him.

Once again, with Kawakami being none the wiser.

Akira responded, now hearing his pulse reverberate into his ears. "Calm down; what do you mean?"

"...It's...Kamoshida. I think something bad's going to happen to him."

Shit.

SHIT. SHIT. SHIT.

Not.

NOW.

"I'm going after him! I need to stop him. Distract him somehow. I don't' know. Talk to you soon!"

"Goddamn, WAIT!" he yelled in the phone.

Despite all that Mishima did...leaving him to Kamoshida would be worse. And after putting his neck out, too, with that article Ms. Edgelord wrote.

"Damnit!" he cursed. He rushed towards his locker and dialed Ryuji.

"Damn indeed," Morgana said back. "My worst fears have been realized. What's the plan?"

"Adapt and overcome?"

Ryuji answered his phone. "Yo, Akira, why you'd call? You could have texted me, you know."

"Damnit, get over to the gym? Why?"

"IT'S KAMOSHIDA! JUST DO IT!"

"Alright, alright! So bossy!"

Akira pursed his lips. "One question: do we still have access to his Castle, if he gets knocked out?"

Morgana pushed its head out to glare at Akira. "What the hell are you getting at?"

"DOES IT?" he screeched while grabbing a smoke canister out of his bag and shoving it into his pocket.

"...No. Only if you kill him."

"Perfect." He set the containers extended the baton so that it was at full range, with the weighted end screwed on.

"W-wait, what the...Akira, what are you doing!?"

"Preparing for a demo." He pressed a button on the handle, making the wires arc randomly. "The 15 millivolt per centimeter demo."

"Don't go charging in! This is the human world! You're not Joker! You're Akira! You're more fragile. At least talk it out with Ryuji!"

He pulled out a Zippo lighter from his bag, holding it close to the canister in his pocket. "...Akira...Joker...What's the difference?"

Notes: Sorry for not updating. Traveling, and I'm not always near places w/internet.

Not much to say here, other than the final part (maybe, it's that or a separate epilogue following after) will come probably sometime next week.

Stay tuned...