Chapter 8: Family Affairs

Junya Kaneshiro.

That was the name Niijima gave them, the man whose heart she wanted them to change. It belonged to a mafia boss who made his living peddling drugs — or rather, he sent his men into the city to sell drugs on his behalf. The operatives had begun targeting Shujin students, whose parents paid a hefty sum every semester to keep their children enrolled in school.

Niijima gave the Thieves two other names: the students who got entangled in Kaneshiro's web and reached out to the student council for help. She already spoke to Iida and Nishiyama but felt they might be more forthcoming if confronted with the infamous delinquent.

"A man approached us near Central Street," Nishiyama said when Ren cornered him in the library. "He asked if we were interested in an easy part-time job. I said I wasn't, but Iida was into it. He was asking the guy all sorts of questions."

"What was the job?" Ren asked, ignoring the heads swiveling their way. Finals were around the corner, and the library was filling up with the stressed and desperate. The student librarian presided over them all, eyeing him with the knowing look of someone still waiting on the school's only copy of The Gallant Rogue.

"U-um, I don't know…" Nishiyama stammered. "But according to Iida, it only takes ten minutes, and is good for people who don't stand out."

Interesting. "What happened after that?"

"Iida started spending a lot of money." Nishiyama seemed agitated like he was jumping out of his skin. "Then all his other weird behavior started too. That's all I know. Can I go now?"

Ren nodded once, and the bespectacled student scampered away, leaving him to face the disapproving whispers alone.

"What do you think?" Morgana asked when they were out of earshot.

Ren ran through his mental bank of information. Small, takes ten minutes, and good for people who don't stand out. Sounds like drugs all right - though he wasn't as much of an expert as the school seemed to think. Another reason to tread carefully on this mission: he had to improve or at least maintain his reputation until he was off probation, and getting caught associating with drug traffickers was a surefire way back to juvie.

Thanks again, Niijima.

The next day, Joker was beginning to have second thoughts about the bargain he struck with the student council president. This didn't feel at all like gathering intel on Kamoshida or Madarame, who kept their activities in the shadows. Kaneshiro's operatives worked in broad daylight, apprehending students in the middle of the afternoon rush. Not to mention, a mafia boss was something of a higher league of criminality than a predatory gym teacher or plagiarist artist.

There was no greater evidence of this than the enormous bank floating over Shibuya. The Thieves stood agape, watching yen rise into the bank's coffers like heat waves on a hot summer day.

Aside from triggering the mysterious app they all had on their phone, bank was also the best word to describe Kaneshiro's perception of Shibuya. He saw the millions of people passing through the intersection as walking ATMs, the city and all its residents a pool of money he could tap into at any time. He noticed some of the ATMs were on factory settings while others could barely function, so broken they were from the long fall to the ground.

Joker was suddenly feeling extra grateful for his dusty attic room at Cafe LeBlanc. True, his guardian hadn't been the friendliest when he first arrived from Inaba. He'd agreed to take him in only as a favor to his parents and issued threats to send him back to jail more than a dozen times in that first week alone. But he and Morgana had a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. He didn't know where they would have landed otherwise.

"Can you turn into a helicopter, Mona?" Panther asked. The others seemed just as dumbfounded by the floating bank.

"No, just a car," the not-cat said sheepishly.

Skull snorted. "You're useless! C'mon, don't you have some kinda secret gadget or something?"

"Shut it! I'm not some robot cat!" Mona snapped. Then, catching Joker's eye, he stammered, "I-I mean I'm not a cat at all!"

Joker sighed and turned back to the floating bank. They wouldn't infiltrate Kaneshiro's palace today like he'd hoped, but at least their efforts had not been in vain. They were able to figure out the keywords to Kaneshiro's palace with little more than Niijima's dossier and some words with Iida and Nishiyama. They would have to do some more work to bring the bank to them - because they certainly weren't going to fly there - outside of the Metaverse, as they were currently sitting ducks staring blankly at the sky.

"This is probably the limit of what we can do today," he said. "Let's think about it some more tomorrow."

"Sounds good," Skull said. "Do we meet at the hideout after school?"

"Yes," Joker affirmed. "Where else?"

Skull and Panther exchanged a glance.

"It wouldn't be the first time we changed hideouts," Panther said in an aggressively cheerful voice.

"Just making sure there won't be any more surprises," Skull added more sedately.

Joker recalled that Niijima had lobbied to join them on their hunt for Kaneshiro. He'd successfully dissuaded her with the truth: she wasn't a Phantom Thief and didn't have their powers. What would she do if they were attacked? Her curiosity about how the Phantom Thieves changed hearts notwithstanding, bringing her along would be too dangerous.

"I promise we'll be on our own," he said.

"Good. Now let's get out of here," Panther replied, turning on her heels.

Joker resisted the urge to point out that it wasn't his voice on Niijima's recording. He was glad there was no cell service in the Metaverse, or he might have played it back to them to make his point. He was the leader, and leaders didn't cast blame on their teammates. After the surprise meeting on the rooftop, he had a lot to make up for to win back Ann and Ryuji's trust and chose his battles carefully.

Joker tapped the red and black icon on his phone and watched as the team transformed back into their regular clothes. Everyone was dressed for summer now, having discarded their school blazers for crisp short-sleeved shirts. The crowd flowed around them in similar attire, flesh and blood again in lieu of the machines that populated Kaneshiro's mental landscape. Morgana had begun to shed, necessitating a twice-a-week brushing that sent tufts of dark fluff rolling under his bed. Ren made sure the feline was safely protected in his school bag before boarding the train to Yongen-Jaya.

The train was hot and crowded, and the heavy rains kicked up all sorts of smells from the bodily mass pressed up against him. He felt Morgana twitching, crushed between his side and a stranger's armpit. He was glad the overdue copy of The Gallant Rogue had proven to be an effective buffer for his small friend. He wrenched himself free as the doors opened and took the steps two at a time up to the surface, where the bustling streets of Yongen-Jaya awaited.

After stopping at the supermarket to pick up snacks - one could never have too many on a trip to Mementos - he found himself walking up a narrow lane to the homey cafe that was his residence in Tokyo. Sakura Sojiro, the proprietor of Cafe Leblanc, looked up as he entered.

"You're back," the man grunted. His greying hair was tied back, the frown lines on his face betraying another long day of tending to customers.

"Miss me?" Ren asked, a little defiantly.

Sojiro snorted under his breath. The man always looked to be on the verge of issuing another reprimand when Ren was in the room. Sometime within the past month, however, he had begun to show a little softness, a note of genuine care in his voice that gave Ren some hope that not all who knew his history would cast him out as a lost cause. It made him dread talking to the man less.

As it turns out, Sojiro was in one of his better moods.

"I was actually going to ask if you could help out tonight," he said as he polished a tall glass. Ren paused on his way up the stairs.

"Seriously?" he said, turning around.

"Yeah. As you can see, I'm pretty damn busy both at work and in my private life." He motioned to his coat and fedora, which were hanging nearby. They were rather stylish for a man his age, and Sojiro was always leaving abruptly. He knew little about the man's life outside the cafe, but if it was as busy as he claimed, why not get some time back with the help of the teenager under his roof?

True, Ren was also busy. But he also wanted to get into his guardian's good graces.

"I'd be glad to help out where I can," he said.

Sojiro peered at him over his glasses. "Hmmm...I won't ask you to work for free. Since you agreed to help me, then... " He eyed the equipment on the bar. "I'll teach you how to make the perfect cup of coffee. Not a bad trade, eh?"

Ren shrugged. "Sounds interesting."

The other man clapped his hands. "All right. Looks like we've got ourselves a deal. How about you start with what's left in the sink, and I'll get everything ready for our first lesson?"

And so the evening progressed - a stack of dirty dishes in exchange for a crash course on coffee basics, while Morgana watched from the safety of an empty booth. Under Sojiro's tutelage, Ren learned that the medium-fine grind was best for Cafe LeBlanc's signature brew. He became so absorbed in the lesson that it wasn't until he made it back to his room, tired and eager for sleep, that he noticed the unread message.

That guy you asked about. He's a lot more dangerous than I thought.

"It's that woman who reeks of alcohol," Morgana moaned, reading over his shoulder. Ren wrinkled his nose as he remembered the sour smell on Ichiko Ohya's breath as she asked question after question about the Phantom Thieves. His acquaintance with her was one of those random encounters he seemed to have everywhere these days. He agreed to meet her at a bar in Shinjuku despite being underage — another activity he was going to have to put an end to if he wanted to stay out of trouble. But at least she was holding up her end of the bargain, which was digging up information about Kaneshiro.

He typed: Oh really? Tell me more.

The three dots were visible for a long time. Then a flurry of messages:

Turns out he has some real shady connections.

I won't say any more than that.

He's not someone a teenager like you should mess with.

You should really back off, OK?

Ren decided not to respond.

"If only we had a choice," he said.

Sae entered Cafe LeBlanc feeling more apprehensive than usual. She typically came in once a week for a chat with the proprietor, Sakura Sojiro. The place made good curry and even better coffee that was miles above the utilitarian brew she made at home. She cherished her time there. With its cozy atmosphere and friendly conversation, it was one of the few places she could escape the constant grind of work.

How unfortunate, then, that she was on an assignment that would probably necessitate finding a new morning break spot.

Sae took her usual seat at the bar and waited for Sakura to appear from the kitchen. The television blared over the cacophony of running water and dishes. She withdrew a manila envelope from her purse and placed it on the counter, flicking the corners idly as she listened to yet another segment about the train accidents earlier in the spring.

"The cause of the runaway train incident in the subway the other day still has not been found," the reporter said, the bustle of Shibuya Station in the background. "Police are hurrying to solve the matter as it may relate to the rise in psychotic breakdown incidents."

"Psychotic breakdowns, eh?" Sakura said as he drew aside the ukiyo-e curtain. "Is that the thing everyone's been talking about?"

"Doesn't it make you curious?" Sae asked, foregoing her usual greeting. "People who were living normal lives suddenly went mad or deranged out of the blue. Not to mention it's happening one after another. Could they really be coincidental?"

Sakura kept his gaze on the television screen. He was the type to keep the conversation light if he had a choice. Or at least he did with her. "Hmmm… I have no idea, actually. But leaving that aside, what'll you have?"

Sae saw her chance to catch him off guard. "The house blend. Please."

Sakura ducked back into the kitchen, and Sae took a few moments to prepare for her interrogation. She began drawing out the contents of her folder, laying them out one by one. By the time Sakura returned with her order, there was a collection of photos and scientific documents arranged neatly on the counter. He frowned and raised his eyes to meet Sae's, order still in hand.

"Hey now…what's this?" he asked.

"Sakura Sojiro," Sae said with steel in her voice. "I'd like to ask you a few questions about your wife and daughter."

Ren was in his prisoner's uniform again. Black and white, with a ball and chain at his ankle. Igor was there in the strange room, as were his wardens Caroline and Justine. The girls were two sides of the same coin, one calm and the other ill-tempered, both sporting an ethereal shade of blonde hair. As they argued about his progress in averting ruination, the scene began to dissolve into blue and violet smoke. In the murky depths of his subconscious, he thought he heard someone bid him a good night's sleep. So long, inmate...

Then he woke to shouts from the cafe. It sounded like Sojiro arguing with a customer.

"So you won't tell me, no matter what?" a woman's voice cried.

Ren pinched himself and sat up. He cast a quick glance around the room and was relieved to see his shelved Tokyo memorabilia and the rickety old desk where he made tools over the weekend. Not only that, but he was in his pajamas — so, not still dreaming. He pulled back the covers, overjoyed to be moving freely, and made his way to the door, where Morgana was already listening, tail high and bristled.

"I'm guessing this isn't a lover's quarrel," Ren quipped, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Morgana shook his head, ears alert and turned towards the cafe. "There's a woman, but she's nowhere near as kind as Lady Ann…"

"Lady Ann is one of a kind," Ren said. Although her outspokenness and disdain for Niijima Makoto had become a thorn in his side as of late.

"I have nothing more to say to you about that," Sojiro snapped.

The argument downstairs seemed to be escalating. Ren grabbed the doorframe and leaned out a little. He wanted to see who he was talking to.

"I see. In that case, I have ways of making you talk."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means- "

The conversation paused as Ren set foot on a creaky floorboard. Damn those rickety stairs.

"Morning," Sojiro grumbled. He rubbed the back of his head and motioned to the woman standing across him at the counter. "Ren, this is Niijima Sae. She was a regular here. Niijima-san, this is my ward. If you care to know."

Ren introduced himself.

"A pleasure," the woman said briskly. She was dressed in a sharp pinstriped suit. Ren couldn't help but think her features seemed familiar, though he was sure he'd never met this woman before in his life.

"Niijima-san is a prosecutor and was just here to ask a few questions," Sojiro continued. "She will be leaving soon."

"Questions? About what?" Ren looked between the two adults. He cast a glance at the documents on the counter, which his guardian covered with his weathered hands.

"Nothing for you to worry about," he said. He stepped back and shot a pointed look at the elder Niijima, who sighed before gathering up her papers, chatting casually with Ren as she did.

"So, where are you going to school?" she asked, pulling a black and white photograph from the counter. Ren caught a glimpse of complex calculations and a figure sitting at a computer.

"Shujin Academy," he said.

"Ah. I know someone who goes there too," she said. "The school has a great reputation. I don't blame your parents for sending you away, though they must miss you." She smiled sweetly and turned in Sojiro's direction. "That is why he's staying here, correct?"

Sojiro grunted and said something about the importance of a solid high school education. A few more seconds of chit-chat, and the papers were all but gone, the folder shut and tucked securely into a purse.

An elderly couple walked in just as the door closed behind Niijima Sae. As Sojiro showed them to their booth, Ren lowered his head and let the commotion of the cafe flow around him.

He had assumed Makoto received most of her information through student council business, perhaps fed to her by Kobayakawa. But now there was a more intriguing possibility: her sister was a prosecutor.

That meant police connections, didn't it?

Two officers leading him away from the man in the suit. Their iron grip on his shoulders left them bruised for weeks afterward. He was nearly blinded by the headlights of the police cars flooding the scene.

Would the elder Niijima have believed him if she'd been involved in his trial?

Would Makoto?

He wondered if he could call her that now that they'd shared that one kiss.

Sae's mood didn't improve as the day progressed. Sakura-san was a tougher nut to crack than she expected. She would have pushed harder had it not been for the teenager who clambered down the stairs just as she was about to use her trump card; she'd been counting on catching Sakura alone. Now she was returning home without the information her boss demanded and out of a morning break spot.

She raised a hand to her chin as she thought about the kid. He was about Makoto's age and attended Shujin Academy. Amamiya Ren, was it? The name sounded familiar. She would have to ask her sister about him later.

Sae's thoughts churned as she stepped off the train and began the walk to her apartment building. In a way, she was glad the visit turned out the way it did. Child abuse was a terrible thing to accuse a man without evidence! Then again, she should be used to that by now. She'd been working at the prosecutor's office for nearly a decade, helping the top brass use all sorts of dirty tricks to turn the tide in their favor. Sae was just part of the machine pursuing that 99 percent conviction rate.

Was it justice? Of course not. Was it a paycheck she needed? Absolutely. Someone needed to put food on the table and keep the lights on.

And so she did not appreciate it when the benefactor of those paychecks looked up from dinner that night with a look that signaled the onset of yet another meandering train of thought. "...I've been thinking lately."

"About justice again?" Sae asked, trying to muster a smile.

"About those Phantom Thieves, I mean. I was thinking if Dad were still alive…" Makoto paused and looked down at her food. "Sorry, I shouldn't bring this up while we're eating."

Sae shook her head. Despite her annoyance, she was curious to hear what her sister had to say this time. "No, it's okay. Keep going."

"I just wonder if he would've been on their side… That's all…" Makoto trailed off, and Sae wondered if she'd noticed something ugly inside her stir. She regretted encouraging her to continue.

"Sis?" Makoto asked after a beat of silence.

Sae tried counting backward from ten and the deep breathing exercises she learned about in yoga class, but the monster persisted. It had been a hard day of work. Every day was a hard day of work. So many little humiliations. So many years ahead of her. No time for a life of her own. And as far as Makoto was concerned, she was evil for not humoring a band of vigilantes?

"The only reason you have time to think about that is because you depend on someone else," she finally ground out.

Makoto's eyes widened. "That's not-"

"You don't have to do a single thing, and you're provided with food, clothes, a home… I've had no time to think about such ridiculous thoughts." Sae was shouting now. "Would Dad have been happy with them? I don't care. He died upholding some lofty sense of righteousness, leaving all his responsibilities on us."

"All I was trying to say was-"

"Isn't it about time you grew up and acknowledged our situation? Right now, you're useless to me. All you do is eat away at my life. "

Makoto's face had turned ashen. The room was quiet save for the ticking of the clock on the TV stand. Then Sae pushed back from the table and stood.

"Sorry, that was uncalled for," she said. "I'm just...really tired. I'll be eating dinner out from tomorrow on."

She went into her room to grab her briefcase. It was relatively early, and she thought she'd look for a cafe. Makoto was still sitting at the table when she left, picking at her food. Sae paused with her hand on the doorknob, wondering if she should say something to her little sister. Was it really okay to leave things like this?

Of course it was — Makoto needed to learn that life didn't revolve around her whims. That her ideals didn't mean anything when confronted with cold, stark reality. The sooner she learned this, the less disappointed she'd become after high school graduation. It was a shame, really. Dinner with her sister was one less thing she had to look forward to.

Makoto lay awake in bed that night wondering if Sis would come home. She often worked through the night at her office, returning to the apartment only for a change of clothes and a few minutes' sleep. The fact that she hadn't heard Sis come in wasn't itself unusual, but the night's events made her absence weigh more heavily in Makoto's mind. Something felt irrevocably changed.

As it turns out, Sae had hit upon Makoto's worst fear. The dinner preparations, the desire to please, her inability to neglect any of her responsibilities, academic or domestic. That was the source of it all. She wanted to be useful. She made herself useful so she wouldn't be a burden.

And Sis told her her efforts were all for nothing.

All because she dared to disagree with her.

Makoto stood by the dining room table as the door closed, wondering why Dad couldn't play with her anymore. The sun was setting, and there were shadows all around her that grew ever longer as the minutes passed. Eventually, she got over the debilitating pang of disappointment and padded over to what was now her room, where Sis was studying for her law school exam. The older girl turned to her with affection in her grey eyes as Makoto approached. Her eyes were softer then, kinder.

"What's wrong, Makoto?"

She pulled the smaller girl into her lap. Makoto found herself looking at the pages of a legal textbook. There was one word in particular that caught her eye.

"Justice," Sis said. The quality of being just, impartial or fair. When Dad is working, he's making sure we're all safe. And if anything bad happens, he makes sure that the evidence is there. To make sure the punishment fits the crime. That people get what they deserve."

Makoto didn't know whether she deserved Sis's harsh words tonight. She'd wanted to revisit their conversation about the Phantom Thieves, but more importantly, she wanted to see if the Sis she knew still lived within that cold facade.

The Sis she knew, the one who brought comfort to her as a lonely child so many years ago, would have understood Dad completely.

A/N: This chapter was originally part of a much longer one that I decided to split in half. So, Chapter 9 is over halfway finished. I also received some feedback on my last chapter that the first kiss was a little rushed. After rereading, I absolutely agree and will be adding a few more sentences to that scene later this week. Chapter 9 will focus more on the aftermath of that kiss and R + M's feelings about it.

For this chapter, I thought it would be interesting to get into Sae's head a bit now that we've had two scenes with her arguing with Makoto over the Phantom Thieves and justice. She is sort of a villain of this piece, and I like throwing in villain POV sometimes.

Enjoy!