Author's Notes: Time flies when you're having fun, dear reader. Doesn't seem like it's already been four weeks since the last chapter of the best Persona story on the internet, does it? But sure as a sunrise it has, and it's time to go deeper and harder into greatness than ever before. Here you'll get drama, tension, excitement, chocolate! Who can argue with that?!
DodemGM: I might be saying that in jest. Or not. Say it enough and prove it to be true and it can only be factual, right? I am glad that you're enjoying the story, as it is my goal to always improve and go further with each chapter, and it's great to see I'm not alone in preferring that approach. Thanks for mentioning your preferred sections, it's good to know that I'm on the right track, and I hope you continue to enjoy where we're going. Enjoy!
MasterToro: Man, Mishima just can't get a break. Not that I mind, I have a hard time putting up with him too. As to Kamoshida, my view on him is that if he died then his punishment ends. But letting him live, especially under the influence of Ann/Carmen's command, for years and years without ever being free of what he did, that's a punishment appropriate to the crime. There is the argument that no suffering can make up for the pain he caused, but the rest of a lifetime comes pretty close. Anyway, philosophies aside, I'm glad you're enjoying the story.
UltimateCCC: Indeed it is, and we'll see them grow from here. Thanks for the review!
This story wouldn't be the same without Firion, so many thanks as always. Enjoy, and see you all on November 11th.
Soft Hand
"Thank you for responding to my message so promptly," Principal Kobayakawa gushed on Thursday, May 2nd. "You've always been quite punctual, Niijima-san."
"Of course," Makoto murmured. There hadn't really been a choice when Yoshinaga-sensei, the student council supervising instructor, directed her to the principal's office and said it was important. "What can I do for you?"
"Right to the point. Even better. You've heard the rumors about Kamoshida-sensei, correct?"
"Yes. I was at the auditorium, too. I heard him directly."
"Good, then that makes this easier. Simply put, I don't believe that Kamoshida-sensei is guilty."
Makoto blinked, then replied, "He confessed to his crimes in front of the student body, sir. The girls he named are real people and their conditions for leaving Shujin coincide with what he said."
The principal pointed out, "You had Kamoshida-sensei for a gym teacher, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"And you saw him in action on the volleyball court, didn't you? Did that seem like the same person who spoke that day?"
That was a valid point. Whether it was arrogance from his achievements or the confidence expressed by the capable, Kamoshida-sensei never lacked for self-assurance. And Makoto couldn't imagine what could make a grown man break down like that; even Sis's explanation of an impending guilty verdict couldn't account for those hysterics. "No," she granted, "but I can't discount it, either. What else could have made him say those things? And were they true?"
"Do you believe that he was speaking the truth? That someone used magic and, how did it go, stole his heart? That's like something from TV or a movie, honestly."
Makoto agreed, missing that Principal Kobayakawa hadn't answered her second question.
"I wonder if someone got to him," he continued. "Someone could have drugged him or threatened him somehow into admitting to crimes he didn't commit."
"That would be for the police to investigate one way or the other, wouldn't it?"
"Which they will, but I'd like to cover our bases here while they do. Did you hear anything, Niijima-san? Have there been any indications that students were being abused?"
Makoto considered that. Starkly, one face and name came to mind. "Kurusu-san," she murmured.
"What was that?"
"Kurusu Akira, a second-year, suggested that I speak to Suzui-san. He seemed quite certain that she was being targeted by Kamoshida-sensei. He told me that just before…" She couldn't finish the sentence, that she'd been too late to investigate and Suzui-san had jumped from the roof before she could. Suicide attempts were almost always a cry for help, so the idea that Makoto was that close to someone she might have been able to help and yet fell short of the mark had crept into her dreams and kept her up at night.
"That sounds like a lead," the principal declared. "Kurusu-san, you say. He just transferred in, didn't he?"
"Yes."
"I've heard a number of rumors about him."
"As have I. None of them have been substantiated."
"Still, they could indicate something we don't know."
"Rumors aren't evidence, sir," Makoto stated firmly, "and they damage a defendant's right to a fair trial."
"That's… ah, right, your father was a police officer. And your sister is a prosecutor, correct?"
"I thought that was common knowledge."
"I wanted your abilities, Niijima-san, not someone else's. Your background certainly helps, but you've always been dedicated and forthright. That's what I'm looking for."
Makoto straightened proudly.
"Kurusu-san might not be tied to Suzui-san or Kamoshida-sensei," the principal went on, "but if he knows something or has insight into this situation, particularly if it can clear someone who is wrongfully accused, then we should find out where he got his information. He'd respond better to a fellow student, I'm sure, so could you find out what he knows?
"You think he'll speak to me? I've only met him once or twice."
"I'm confident that you will have better odds of success than I will. I remember meeting him; he was quite rebellious and quick with his mouth. I'm not sure he'd give me a straight answer if I asked, no matter how good our intentions are – he might even think I was trying to blame him in some way."
"That might also be because he doesn't know anything," she surmised, "which means that I'd be questioning him for nothing."
"Possibly, but... well, let me tell you something in confidence. The school is under investigation as though we participated in a heinous crime. The police will investigate the school for any sign of unlawful activity. I'm not concerned about it – we've done nothing wrong and they will see as much. But other teachers are reconsidering their positions here, people whose innocence is without question. They don't deserve to be tarred with the brush of an investigation, even if Kamoshida-sensei should be deemed to be guilty. They're good people, honest people, and a clearer picture through more information would put their minds at ease and secure their futures here."
"What you've just described sounds like guilt by association, running before they are found out."
"Doesn't it? That's just where I was going – I knew you were sharp, Niijima-san. They would carry this false reputation with them to any school they went to, and that's hardly fair if they're innocent. A man or woman's entire life, all their experience and dedication, gone in an instant because of an unfounded rumor. They deserve better than that, and we – you – can offer that. They'd be eternally grateful, and I know they have associates in higher education who would look positively upon you for clearing their names. I'd be happy to put my own appreciation for your services in the form of writing. Specifically, the best recommendation letter you could ask for to any university you choose."
Makoto looked at him. A letter like that would go a long way to getting her where she wanted to go, and Sis would be happy to see her hard work pay off. And if it was in the spirit of helping people and getting to the bottom of the mystery of Kamoshida-sensei's confession, then it was worth it. She could even put some of her own doubts to rest, too. "All right, I'll do it. I can't speak for when I'll get it done, exams are coming up, but I will help however I can."
"Perfect! And I would ask for nothing less – you are a student, after all. Thank you for this, Niijima-san."
She nodded before clarifying a detail or two. She set her mind in order, put what she knew against what she didn't, and came to a thread at the middle of it all. "Kawakami-sensei spent time talking to Kamoshida-sensei, and she's Kurusu-san's homeroom teacher. I'll start with her."
"An excellent candidate. I know this matter is in good hands now."
She bowed and exited the office, and as she left she didn't see – could not have seen – the fox-like smile that adorned the principal's face, his eyes sharp and cunning to match.
7 7 7
"It's not about being the brightest bulb in the store," Akira mentioned. "Just about being better than you were, right?"
"You haven't seen my scores yet," Ryuji groused. "Better than that ain't gonna cut it."
"Which is why we're here," Ann pointed out. "You asked, remember?"
"Yeah. Thanks for the reminder."
"No charge."
They'd come to the library Akira had found, books in bags and ready – if not exactly eager – to study for their upcoming midterms. Akira could claim to be consistently good with his marks, but not great. With everything that had gone on before, he wasn't sure where he'd fall, especially against almost 280 other students, almost double the number in his grade back home in Aga.
He considered hitting the books hard until exams. He chuckled at the idea of scoring so high that he could shove it in the faces of those idiots who were still talking behind his back. That was a goal worth aiming for.
They picked a table at the back and got to work. Morgana curled up atop Akira's book bag on an empty chair and snoozed while Akira worked with Ryuji. The athlete had a great grasp of biology, anatomy and the easy part of chemistry, able to tie concepts and muscle groups to the experience he'd had on the track team. Where he faltered was with everything else. Math, history, long-form writing and English were what he struggled with the most, so that was where Akira helped. It wasn't perfect, but Ann pitched it with a natural speaker's understanding of English, some effective associative shortcuts, and a surprising knack for writing and math. Between the various attempts and fun mistakes, progress was made and the mood was kept lighthearted. Working with them gave Akira insight into how they thought. Track was everything to Ryuji, probably because it came so naturally to him, and Ann was able to tie the academic concepts to things like clothing products, color dyes, and the different behaviors of people she saw as a model. Such an applied approach was certainly an odd studying method, but it worked. Akira was as much the beneficiary of the lessons as the distributor as they went along.
More than an hour into the study session, Ryuji got up to stretch his leg, pushing against the wall and grunting, "Sit too long and it cramps up. Real pain when class is goin' on."
"No problem," Akira answered. "This is a good place to take a break.
Ann looked over. "How is the material compared to where you're from? You seem like you're taking to it pretty well."
"It's similar but better, I guess. More comprehensive. I didn't go to a big-name school before, so the standards weren't this high. I like the challenge."
Her head cocked. "Aren't you staying with family here?"
"No, I'm with… a guardian, I guess you'd call him. It's complicated."
"It sounds like there's a story there."
"Kind of. It's…" He let out a breath. The words were rusty from disuse, but he pulled them out anyway. "Someone framed me for something I didn't do. The cops got involved, there was a court case, and the whole thing turned into such a circus that it was easier for my family if I left for a while until the dust settled."
Ryuji grimaced. "That was the guy you mentioned in the dungeon, huh?"
Akira nodded.
"I heard some people say you had a criminal record," Ann said. "I thought that was a lie like everything else they say about you."
"I'm on probation. My last strike before they lock me up. It's the closest any of them have gotten to the truth so far."
Ryuji inquired, "How'd your folks take it?"
"Badly. The charges were a joke, but you'd be surprised how many people bought into the bad press just because of who said it."
"No, I wouldn't."
Akira conceded that. "Right, fair point. Anyway, I haven't talked to them much since I got here, friends or family. Things were pretty messy when I left and I... don't really know how they see it now."
Ann lowered her head. "I'm sorry."
Akira glanced over. "You didn't do anything to make it happen, did you?"
"No, but I mean it sucks that it happened. You aren't anything like what people say at school, and you don't deserve to have that happen with your friends."
"Yeah." His smile was sour. "Helps in a way, though. This has taught me what real friends are like. Treat it like a learning experience and it's not so bad."
"I couldn't imagine them being your friends in the first place if they'd cut you out like that," Ann pressed. "That's an easy word to say, but people like that are doing you a favor when they drop you."
"A real friend has your back when everyone else runs away," Ryuji stated, the words as solid as fact. "It's that simple. You've always had our backs so we got yours."
Ann nodded, and so did Morgana.
Akira chuckled at the cheesy sentiment, but it held weight with him. It felt right. "Yeah. Thanks, guys. Here, Ryuji, wasn't this something you had trouble with?"
The studying continued for a while longer. When the subject went back to biology, Ann ran a finger over the design of the Vitruvian Man in her textbook, staring at the lines and musculature. "Hey Morgana, how did you heal yourself? During our fight, I mean."
The cat frowned quizzically. "It's something Zorro can do. He always could. I never thought about it."
"Could someone else learn to do it?"
"I imagine so. Maybe?"
Akira pitched in, "Some of my Personas can do it, too, but I haven't tried it yet."
Ann told them, "I want to learn. Seeing Shiho, all the scars and everything, I… I wonder if I could heal her that way."
"You'd give yourself away, and there's no guarantee how she'd react to 'that place.' If she's not in a good head space, she could end up much worse."
"I don't see how that's possible."
"Don't say that," Morgana warned.
"And no offense, but what she's goin' through would need a specialist," Ryuji added. "Even if you start learnin' now, if might not be enough to help her how she needs it."
"But Morgana…" Ann sighed. "Right. You're right, taking her out of the hospital won't work. And I don't want to put her through something that might make it worse. But if I can learn something, find a way to help her, I want to try it."
Morgana replied, "We can do that next time we're 'over there,' Ann-san. Maybe we'll learn something that can help her."
"Thanks."
"On that topic," the cat went on, "we'll all want to be careful when we're over there. We might be able to heal ourselves and we have Personas to help take the hits, but that doesn't mean we're not in danger of getting hurt. Our injuries might close up, but our minds still remember what happened. They'll fill in the blanks when we come back to this side, so be careful."
"I thought it felt worse after Kamoshida," Ryuji put in. "Things hurt even when there weren't any scars. It was like my body wasn't sure what was happenin' to it."
"That's the risk of taking hits over there. Once you guys are done with your tests, it wouldn't hurt to train up. The best battles are the ones we don't have to fight, or the ones we can end before they happen. We don't need to get hurt permanently."
"Good advice," Akira put in.
"What else would you suggest, Morgana?" Ann asked. "Anything we can sharpen up on?"
"You want the truth?" the cat asked.
Ryuji nodded. "Sure. We're takin' a break, right?"
"Okay, well, you leave an opening when you swing, and…"
The discussion on tactics picked up from there. Morgana gave his observations and insight on what he saw and how they could improve, both individually and as a team. Not only did he give good feedback, his suggestions were clear and specific. He didn't have an answer for every point and question, but he did say he'd come back to the few such cases, and the trio believed him.
They studied more after that, coming short of the intended mark but making good progress nonetheless. They packed up and were leaving the library when someone nearby said, "There you are! What a coincidence."
Akira glanced over out of idle curiosity, then stopped when he recognized the speaker. "Kitagawa-san, wasn't it?"
The tall artist nodded and approached. "And you are Kurusu-san, right?"
Akira confirmed as much. "Here for more art books? Thanks again for your lesson last time, it helped a lot."
"Bare basics, but I'm happy that helped you. Actually, I was hoping to see you again."
"Sure. Over what?"
"Friend of yours?" Ryuji asked, looking over.
"Someone I met last time I was here." Akira made the introductions, and nods and bows were exchanged.
"A pleasure to meet you all. Actually, more Shujin students can help with this." Kitagawa showed them his phone and the image on it.
Arsene's mask and top hat. The calling card of the Phantom Thieves.
"Are you familiar with this?"
Akira bit the inside of his cheek before saying, "A little."
"Was it really at your school? I've heard all sorts of things online about it."
"Probably exaggerated."
"Like how a spell was cast on someone to make them lose their mind? Or how an army of police and public security agents came in and rooted out a criminal ring in the school's basement?"
"Definitely exaggerated."
"You heard of the guys with that card too?" Ryuji asked. "Kosei's a ways away from Shujin. Seems people're makin' a pretty big deal of them."
Kitagawa nodded. "They are. There's a website dedicated to them, have you heard about it?"
"No. Wait, you serious?"
Kitagawa brought up a new page on his phone and showed it to them. There it was, the official website of the Phantom Thieves. The Phan Site, complete with a bastardized mimicry of the calling card.
"That's pretty tacky," Akira noted. He brought it up on his own phone, scrolled around, then caught onto a familiar name as the site admin: Mishima. The mission statement, "The single best source of everything to do with the Phantom Thieves!" said it all, no subtlety achieved or even attempted. "Figures."
Kitagawa chuckled. "Your reaction tells me you aren't a card-carrying member of their Phan club."
"Not really. I don't buy into gossip much, and there're a lot of people talking at school about the Thieves. The sort of people who buy whatever anyone else says."
"I see. Well, I don't know much about them myself, and the rumors seem rather silly when you think about it. My interest is in the card itself. It is…" Kitagawa shrugged helplessly. "Well, it's definitely the work of an amateur. Substandard technique and rudimentary execution, basic tools and materials at best, and it feels like the artist was quite impressed with himself for such a mild achievement. Mild, that's praise by itself, and… Is anything wrong, Kurusu-san?"
"Nothing. Don't worry about it."
"Of course. But anyway, behind all that, there is something remarkable here. A nascent… I can't even describe it, but it is there and it is amazing, unlike anything I have seen before. I wonder if the artist even realized they were putting it on the page."
Ann asked, "What exactly is it? I mean, if you can't explain it how would you know it's there?"
"It is…" Kitagawa-san looked over. "Hm. Takamaki-san, wasn't it? Kurusu-san, is this the model you mentioned before?"
"Model?" Ann asked.
"For art class. Kurusu-san said he needed pointers on sketching someone."
"Did he now? Well, I'm flattered that you think I'm good enough to sit and be sketched or painted. But no, I'm just a student, though I do model on the side."
"What I saw in the card, I see some of that in you as well. Could I draw you sometime?"
Ann's eyebrow raised while her voice lowered. "I don't let just anyone take pictures or draw me. How cheap would I be if I gave it up for anyone who asked?
"That wasn't my intention at–"
"You'd have to be very good first." She continued, her eyes going dark and smoky. "Are you?"
Akira and Ryuji hid their smiles. Carmen was teaching her protégé well.
Kitagawa went from conciliatory to certain. "I am good," he declared. "I'll be great soon. The card, whatever this is with you, if I can learn from it I could get there! And even further!"
A limo rolled up and stopped by them. The window rolled down to reveal an older man in a yukata. "Yusuke, here you are."
Kitagawa straightened and turned. "Ah, Madarame-sensei."
"You left in such a hurry when you saw these people that I thought something was wrong. But you seem comfortable with them. Are they friends of yours?"
Akira offered, "Somewhat. He and I have met before. He was showing me some techniques on drawing."
"Ah, that must have been when he was late coming back a week or two ago."
"That was on me, sir. If that interrupted your schedule at all, I apologize."
Madarame chuckled and waved that off. "Come, lad, not at all. Yusuke doesn't visit much with those his own age, so this is encouraging to see. An artist always benefits from a change in perspective."
Kitagawa nodded. "Yes, Sensei."
"Truly, Yusuke, it's no great problem if you want to visit with your friends. Come, invite them to the exhibit. It is open to viewers of all ages, after all."
"If you're sure, Sensei."
"Naturally! Art should be shared and given fertile soil wherever it might wish to grow, Yusuke. You never know where you might find a remarkable talent."
"As I have heard you say before."
"And I mean it, my boy. Shall I come back in a while?"
"No, I shouldn't take up more of their time today. Takamaki-san, Kurusu-san, could I see you again to discuss this further? By then perhaps I can put it into words what I'm talking about. You're welcome too, Sakamoto-san – I didn't mean to ignore you."
Ryuji shrugged. "No worries, and no reason not to. Can't remember the last time I went to an art gallery, but you never know what we might learn there."
Madarame smiled. "Splendid! Here, some tickets to the main event. There's plenty for you all, will you need more for family?"
"My mom's not available durin' the day, but thanks."
The other two begged off of extras as well. "That's generous of you, sir," Akira noted. "I'd think something like this would be a black-tie event with restricted access."
"Not this time. That's in June, from the first to the fifth, with quite a few other showings leading up to that. I'll be unveiling my best work to date then, something truly remarkable."
"Then thanks again."
"Think nothing of it, I enjoy the comments and perspectives of others. They're food for the starving artist." He laughed joyously at his own joke.
Kitagawa bowed to them and said, "I should be going, then. I look forward to seeing you there."
"Same," Akira answered.
Kitagawa got into the limo and it drove off.
"Interesting fellow," Morgana noted, squirming out of his bag.
"Pretty jolly for an artist," Ryuji remarked.
"I've heard the name Madarame, too," Ann offered. "He's a big deal in the art world."
Morgana clarified, "I meant Kitagawa-san."
"What is it?" Akira asked.
"He could see Arsene in the card. Normal people wouldn't be able to identify a Persona like that, even if he couldn't explain it. Ann-san, were you using Carmen just now?"
"For a second. Oh, but not before he mentioned it."
"Then he's sensitive to Personas. Is that just because he's an artist and a bit strange, or…?"
"I get ya," Ryuji commented. "He is weird, but I wonder what he'll think he's seein'. Good reason to go to this art gallery and find out."
"Absolutely. This is someone else who could manifest a Persona. We need to keep an eye on him."
"We will," Akira answered.
7 7 7
They went their separate ways from there. Akira handed off almost half of their haul from the castle treasury to Ann to cash in, then went to the pawn shops Morgana had dug up. All of them were in the kind of neighborhood that bordered on seedy, but wasn't rough enough that a teenager would stand out too much. He walked like he belonged there and watched the people around him and no one looked at him twice. Moving around like this was getting easier and easier the more he did it.
The clerk of the first stop took his goods with the feigned disinterest of a professional buyer. Akira offered just enough merchandise to make it worth the trip, aware that there was only so much even these places would take before getting suspicious.
"A sports medal, hm?" the clerk noted. "Interesting."
Akira shrugged. "Impressive what you find at flea markets, isn't it?"
The clerk checked the medal closer, looking at the inscriptions and even setting it under a UV light with various settings to check the metal composition. "Good haul, kid," was all he said when he was done.
Akira looked around and said nothing.
The rest of the loot was assessed and tallied with quiet efficiency, and near the end something was pushed back across the counter. "Here," the clerk told him.
"Hm?"
"These things, whatever they are. They're no good."
Akira took what the clerk mentioned and frowned. They were two fragments that looked and felt like stonework or ceramic, each no larger than a fingernail. Akira couldn't recall picking them up or breaking whatever they'd come from.
Morgana popped out of the bag to look, then instructed, "Don't worry about those. I got them."
Akira pocketed the shards and held his questions until they finished up and got paid. Once they exited the pawn shop, he asked, "Where did those come from?"
"Kamoshida's treasury, like everything else. I think I picked them up, or maybe Ryuji did."
"If they aren't worth anything, then shouldn't we drop them?"
"No," was the answer.
"Okay. Reason being?"
"I want them. Can I get a jar to keep them in?"
"Sure, if you like."
The other pawn shops revealed two more similar shards. Neither of the clerks could identify what they were, and Akira couldn't ask too many questions without coming across as even more suspicious than a teenager with a bag of jewelry, coins and silverware already did. Morgana insisted on keeping them, however, and Akira spent a few hundred yen on a jar to hold them in, along with a better cat bed and a box of food for the feline. They went back to Leblanc and stashed the cash away, and Morgana nudged his jar of shards into place atop the worktable.
Akira looked at it, then shrugged. It was out of the way, and if it made Morgana happy then it was no price to pay at all.
The stairs creaked as someone came up. Sakura-san appeared and looked around. "Place looks good," he stated.
Akira bit his tongue on a catty comparison to the attic's previous state and the local landfill, instead replying, "Thanks."
"That cat is pretty clean, too."
"I've been looking after him. I said I would."
Sakura-san grunted.
"Can I…" Asking made Akira gag.
"Hm?"
Akira started again. "I'd like a new bed. Or new to me, if the cost is going to be a problem."
Sakura-san looked over. "A bed?"
"Yes. Something with proper support and no milk crates. I'm not sleeping on that couch, either."
"Got a problem with how things are?"
"My back does."
"There isn't a lot of room up here, you know. More than there was, maybe, but it still isn't a lot."
"I can be efficient with my space."
"And who do you think is going to move it out of here when you leave?"
"I'll pay for that, too." Akira couldn't keep the bite from his voice. "I expect this won't come cheap, right?"
"That's right."
"Doesn't proper bedding count as an essential?"
"Not according to the paperwork, and not in this place, kid."
"It's Akira."
"Right. I'm already feeding you and not charging you for room and utilities, and good furniture is expensive. You got the money?"
Akira watched his footing. How would it look if a student with no obvious means of support was suddenly flush with cash? "I have some. I can get more and work for the rest, if that's a concern."
"Does Shujin let its students have jobs on the side?"
"Part time, twenty-eight hours per week, the same as anywhere else. It's discouraged – they say as much three times on page forty-two – but it's not breaking any rules."
"Hmph. It's still my place you're cluttering up."
"Think of it as a forward investment," Akira advised icily. "My exams are coming up. If I score high on them, it'll reflect well on the reports to my caseworker, and that looks good for you."
Sakura-san stared at him for a few moments. "Just a bed? Or will you want more than that?"
"More. A few privacy screens or dividers would be nice, maybe some drawers for my clothes, and if I find anything I want from the market, within reason, I'd like to have it here too. Like an A/C unit or a radio."
"We can talk about that other stuff later. Do good on your tests and I'll think about it. And we'll see how much it'll cost."
"So long as we're thinking about it, that's fine by me."
Sakura-san grumbled something, then turned and left.
"That went okay," Akira noted to himself.
Morgana poked his head up from the workbench. "You really don't like him, do you?"
"It's complicated. Hey, I had a question for you."
"Go ahead."
"We were talking about getting better back at the library. Where do you think I can improve?"
"A few places. You want me to give you a list?"
"Sure." Akira grinned. "Next time we fight, I won't go down so easy."
Morgana returned the smile. "I look forward to it. Well, to start, build on your skills here to be stronger 'over there.' Not just with a Persona, I mean how you fight or move. Get stronger and faster, improve your balance, work with things to be more familiar with yourself and situations and… just get better overall. That will carry over to when we're working."
"You mean weights, running, sparring, that sort of thing?"
"Yes. It'll give you better reflexes, teach your mind to move fast, and so on. And if you can think of better solutions to problems, that's never bad, right?"
Akira nodded. "I got it. Ryuji was on the track team, I'll see what he suggests."
"Good, but don't get too carried away. You can get bogged down in making this complex when it's really pretty simple, and if you're fighting to get some furniture here then having weights and exercise equipment wouldn't work at all."
Akira looked at the beams of the rafters. They were just the right width for a good grip for pull-ups and crunches. "I hear you. Anything else?"
"Most of our work comes down to the right tools for the job and using them well. Learn your way around locks and get used to using your hands, any way you can. I can handle whatever doors we run into, but two of us doing it will cut down on time and trouble."
"And that comes down to sensitivity and experience, right?"
"Correct."
"Then I'll get on that. I still have those locks I can work on, and I have a few other ideas."
"Hey!" Sakura-san called from the bottom of the stairs. "There's work down here to do if you want that stuff you asked for!"
Akira rolled his eyes. "What timing."
Morgana grinned. "You were asking about ways to use your hands."
"Don't remind me."
Akira went down to the cafe, put on an apron and got to work. Most of what needed doing was cleaning tables between customers and washing dishes, the basic but essential stuff that kept the place running. And Sakura-san was busy with his patrons, chatting them up and suggesting menu items as he went. Akira kept his hands moving and his mouth shut, but he listened to the old man. He was a good talker, Akira could admit, and even with his regulars he knew just the right way to get one more sale out of them without turning them off or getting shut down. Maybe it was Morgana's advice, but Akira could already see ways of operating that he could use in the future.
The rush died down eventually, and all that were left were a few customers at the counter. Akira finished with the stack of dishes and wondered what Sakura's secret to making such rich-smelling curry was when the news came on. The politics of the day, this deputy something-or-other being caught in a scandal and that mayor making excuses for whatever was going on, went right past the teenager. But then the topic switched to Kamoshida and the Shujin case. Apparently the police were getting more involved, and they weren't going to let it be swept under the rug. Akira smiled to himself – it was high time the authorities did something about this.
"Big thing, that case," Sakura-san commented. "You know anything about that teacher?"
Akira went to work on the last dirty table. "A few things, here and there. Nothing outside of what he said at the assembly, though."
"There's a lot of rumors going around about why he came clean. Apparently there was a note or something calling him out, did you hear about that?"
"I saw it for a second or two. It didn't stay up very long."
"Was the assembly as bad as they say?"
"I haven't heard what people have said about it, but it was different. He admitted to a lot, right in front of the entire school. I wouldn't have thought he'd be the sort to do that, honestly."
A customer at the counter set their coffee down. "A pretty big change of heart, that's what I heard."
Akira turned to the speaker, then took a second look at her. Even sitting down she was tall for a woman, ash brown hair clipped and combed to one side, and her black professional attire outlined a trim, athletic figure. Her earrings were polished silver and stood out against her clothes, and on her chest was a double-S necklace. Akira knew that symbol, it meant 'subsection' in legal terminology – he'd seen it often enough reading through the paperwork of his trial. She was comfortable where she was, but even so there was a wariness to her posture that suggested she was always watching and didn't miss much.
When Akira looked a bit closer, he was startled to see her eyes were a familiar red. The voice, hair color and complexion were different, but the jawline and cheekbones, along with that steady crimson stare, definitely suggested a relation to the student council president.
"People are making a big deal out of it," the customer continued, nodding to the talk show on the Shujin case that was offering all manner of reasons for Kamoshida confessing, "as though it's related to the subway crashes. A person acts out of place or behaves differently and now suddenly everyone's an expert."
"We'll take a break for a message from our corporate sponsors," the TV announcer said, "but when we come back we'll get the professional insights from our own Detective Prince! You won't want to miss it!"
"That's how people are, Niijima-san," Sakura-san replied. "If they think they have answers, then they're content. That's good for society, isn't it?"
"When they realize it's the hard work of the police that got them there, yes," the woman answered. "But when they make up fairy tales about Phantom Thieves, that's when it goes too far."
"So long as the criminals are caught, does it matter who gets the credit?" Akira asked.
The woman turned that stare on him. "I don't recognize you. Are you a part-timer?"
"Something like that. I'm Kurusu Akira."
"Niijima Sae. You're a student at Shujin, apparently."
"Yes, ma'am. You have a relative there, don't you?"
"Yes."
"I thought so. You look like the student council president, and you share the same last name. Niijima Makoto, right?"
"That's correct. She didn't mention meeting a boy recently."
"I just moved into the area. I've only spoken to her twice."
Niijima-san relaxed. "I see. Yes, she's my little sister. She also puts some stock in this Phantom Thief business. If people start thinking that a band of vigilantes is going to come and solve their problems, then what use do they have for the police? That's not good for us or for them – people need to know that they can trust us."
"Could Kamoshida-sensei's victims trust the police?" Akira asked before he could stop himself.
Sakura-san growled, "Kid, don't bother my regulars unless you want to cover their tabs."
"No, Sakura-san, it's all right," Niijima-san noted, straightening in her seat. "It's a good question. Those girls were victims, and the police did what they could. They'll be able to fix things now that the perpetrator's been caught, and that's what matters. It's unfortunate that it went as far as it did, but that's how life goes sometimes."
Akira asked, "He was only caught because he confessed. If he hadn't, his victims wouldn't be any closer to justice than they were while he was assaulting them and the police would still have nothing on him. Is that situation still 'how life goes sometimes,' then?"
The woman said nothing.
Akira eased up a little. "Did you hear what Kamoshida-sensei did to them, Niijima-san?"
"I wasn't privy to the specifics, no."
"The things he admitted to with those girls, rape and abuse and isolating them from their friends and family, aren't the kind of thing the police are going to fix, are they? Suzui Shiho's in the hospital because of him, badly injured from what I hear. Will the police cover her medical expenses as compensation?"
Niijima-san's eyes narrowed. "No. That's not their responsibility or ours."
"You're a cop?"
"A public prosecutor."
That explained the necklace. "Well, I was at the assembly and I heard what he said. Addiction, abortions and suicide attempts are a pretty steep price for the police taking their time. Who's going to help those victims? The same students who threw them to the wolves in the first place? The principal and the teachers who ignored what was going on right in front of them? I get that the police have a lot going on, but those girls deserve better than being a name on a report somewhere, than being shuffled over by the same system that did nothing for them the first time."
"We do what we can with the evidence we have, Kurusu-san," Niijima-san answered. "That's imperfect on a good day. Contrary to what TV would have you believe, a lot of the time we have to work with an incomplete picture. We do the best we can, but sometimes people fall through the cracks. It's a tragedy what happened to those girls, but we have a system that does its best. In most cases, it works. It's not fool-proof, but the people making your kind of suggestions don't come forward and work with us to help make it better, so we make do."
Akira took the insinuation on the chin and kept going. "It's a thankless job, I'm not disputing that. But those girls deserve better. And I've been on that side of the law, Niijima-san, falsely accused and almost imprisoned for something I didn't do. I 'fell through the cracks,' as you might say, and you know who was on my side when that was happening? No one. The cops didn't listen, the lawyers didn't care, and the people closest to me hung me out to dry because of it. Who's in my corner? Who's going to re-examine my case and give me back what I've lost?"
Sakura-san glowered.
Niijima-san stared, eventually saying, "That's not my purview. I'm not a defense attorney."
Akira bit back his anger. "Right. Well, you'll understand if I have… a dim view of the system, having seen and experienced what I have."
"Until the Phantom Thieves contribute to our court system and pitch in to help those victims you're talking about, then they haven't done much outside this one case, have they? If you believe the rumors then they exposed a perpetrator, but how does that do any more for those girls than the police? Be careful who you put on a pedestal, Kurusu-san – they're only human."
Akira kept to himself that she was saying that while telling him to venerate the police and the legal system they represented. Instead he mellowed out with, "A fair point. But that's why I asked, why does it matter if the Phantom Thieves or the cops get the credit? If a bad person is shut down and the victims can be helped, isn't that what matters most?"
"Because vigilantes operate outside the law, good intentions or not, and that makes them criminals. The rules are there for a reason, Kurusu-san, and those who break them are punished the same as Kamoshida Suguru will be punished."
Akira nodded and conceded the point, finishing up with the table and going back to the kitchen. Sakura-san glared at him, but Akira simply said over his shoulder, "I don't know if we'll agree on these points, Niijima-san, but thank you for the conversation. I appreciate that you took the matter seriously."
She nodded in reply. "We probably won't agree, you're right. But you made your points well. You don't seem the sort to talk much, but you speak clearly and you think fast on your feet. That's a good skill."
She enjoyed one last cup of coffee, chatted with them about commonplace issues, and then paid and left. With the cleaning done, Akira hung up his apron and was heading for the stairs when Sakura-san stopped him. "You argue like that with all the people who pay your way, kid?"
"Just most of the time."
"Well, you'll need to polish up your game if you want to get anywhere with women. Keep up that act and you'll be single forever."
Akira smirked. "Duly noted, Sakura-san. Next time I talk to a girl, I'll keep you in mind."
7 7 7
School was dull. Kawakami Sadayo thought so on more than one occasion. Most days it felt like she was going through the motions, trudging along on the machine to churn out students who were at varying levels of intelligence and social acceptability. Sometimes an idea would come to her on how to adjust her lesson plan or encourage her students, but somewhere between the school and the bar and home it fell into the gutter, lost before she even thought to reach for it. Such was her life.
Then Kamoshida-sensei had confessed to his crimes and the machinery was geared up to top speed. Suspicions were high and accusations were thrown about, both amongst students and the teachers, and no one quite knew what was going on or how to handle it. Her mundane everyday became much more exciting, and she wasn't sure she liked it.
Because of that situation, it made sense that some internal investigation take place. The ramifications of Kamoshida-sensei's actions would be felt by the school for years to come, and it was something that everyone employed by the school had to be cognizant of. Some of her colleagues were already speaking in whispers about jumping ship and transferring to other schools or even enrolling in the private circuit while their credentials were still good.
Had Kawakami had any sense that she'd done anything wrong, or if she'd had somewhere she really wanted to go, she might have considered that a sign for her to move on. But she hadn't, and she didn't, and so here she was.
"You want to know about Kamoshida-sensei and me?" she'd asked when the student council president breached the matter with her.
"Yes," Niijima Makoto replied. "The principal has given me this project and I'd like to make some headway on it before exams start."
"Well, I can't help you. I didn't know about him going after those girls. It's hard to believe that all happened here, but if he said it then I have to believe it, right?"
"That's what I'm going with," Niijima-san replied. "I think Principal Kobayakawa wants to make sure the bases are all covered."
"I'm not surprised. Well, that's all I know."
"What about Shintani-sensei? Did it make sense for him to be caught with a student in a compromising position?"
That stung. "Why do you ask?"
"That happened before my time here, so I need some context for what happened. All anyone else has given me is second-hand information."
Kawakami looked to the side, silent. Shintani Mitsuo was a sore name to her ear even now. Tall and strong, smart and lively, he'd been a great teacher and was much admired by the students. She'd felt flutters the first time she saw him, and he'd been a big reason why she'd paid more attention to her appearance before coming to work. More than that, though, his infectious laugh and passionate drive were contagious. Teaching was a natural fit for him, and even she, someone who got into it because it was a stable paycheck, had caught his enthusiasm. She'd found herself adjusting her lesson plans and improving on them, enjoying coming to work to try them out, and the students had responded positively. For the first time since getting the job, she'd felt like things were coming together.
Then the news hit that he'd been caught with Namba-san. The ramifications were clear, the proof seemed ironclad, and no matter how much he protested his innocence the verdict struck with the finality of his sentence. The students were appalled, the teachers renounced Shintani-sensei wholesale, and Kawakami had been left feeling like a fool. The sidelong looks and pleasant conversations on field trips, the days she spent looking for the nerve to ask him out for a drink, it all turned to bile and ash in her mouth. The world became drab and gray.
She shared an impersonal account of the events with Niijima-san, unconsciously digging her nails into her palm.
"It sounds like he was the sort of man who would stand up for someone who was abused," Niijima-san concluded.
"He was."
"That's a likely explanation for why he was framed," the girl concluded.
Kawakami shrugged. That was a wound that had scarred over, and she wasn't of the mindset to start picking at it yet. "That's all I can say."
"And you didn't notice anything about Suzui Shiho before her incident?"
"That's right."
Niijima-san tapped her notebook where she'd been taking notes. "Then I wonder how Kurusu-san knew about her."
Kawakami looked up. "Kurusu Akira? The transfer student?"
"Yes. He told me I should speak to her about her being abused. No one I've spoken to knew about her or noticed anything out of the ordinary, so how did a stranger to the school pick up on it?"
"An outsider's perspective, I imagine. Or he was involved somehow."
"That would be working fast," Niijima-san pointed out. "This is his first month here as a student."
"He could have some other connections, though. You've heard the rumors about him, right?"
"Yes, and I've found nothing to substantiate them. Someone disparaged him to the school and everyone's elected to believe that which they cannot prove."
"He does have an attitude to him, though," Kawakami grumbled. "At least he did when I met him."
"I've spoken to him twice, and while I agree that he has a smart mouth, that doesn't make him a bad person." Niijima-san straightened. "I'd like to speak to him about this. Would you help me, Kawakami-sensei?"
"Me? Help how?"
"You have some prior experience with him, perhaps you will see something I can't. And while I don't think he was involved with Suzui-san's abuse, that he had this information in advance is very curious."
Kawakami sighed internally. She'd been hoping to leave work right away and hit the bar to get away from the rocking ship that the school had become. But helping in a case like this would look good for her. "All right, I'll make the arrangements."
Saturday, May 4th came around. Classes were short, and at the end of the day Kawakami found Kurusu-san at his desk, packing up to go home. "Niijima-san has asked to see you," she informed him.
That got a dry smile from him. "Well, I can't refuse an invitation like that, can I?" He reached for his bag, but Kawakami stopped him.
"We won't be long. You can leave your stuff here."
He gave her a skeptical look, then around him at his classmates.
"I can hang onto that for you, Akira-kun," Takamaki-san told him. "I'll wait for you at the front gate."
"Thanks." He got up and looked at Kawakami. "Lead on, Sensei."
She took him up the stairs to the student council room where Niijima-san waited. She welcomed them in and directed Kurusu-san to the seat across from her.
He took it, crossed one leg over the other, threaded his fingers together, and smirked. "It's nice to see you again, Senpai."
"Thank you."
"May I just say, you have very… memorable eyes. That color would stand out to anyone."
"I… thank you?"
Kawakami groaned. "Was that an attempt at a come-on?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. It doesn't really work when you pick it apart like that, though."
"Well, that's not what we asked you to come here for."
"Right, but you haven't told me why I'm here, have you?"
Niijima-san stated, "Suzui Shiho."
Kurusu-san shifted. Kawakami felt the air move, and even though she was looking at the same student, she suddenly wasn't sure she was looking at the same person. Was it how his fingers tightened? The incremental change in his posture? A narrowing of his eyes behind those fish-stare glasses? Whatever she thought she saw was gone the instant it happened, and she wasn't sure if she really saw it in the first place.
But it was a few moments before he answered, "What about her?"
"You mentioned her the last time we spoke," Niijima-san supplied. "You said I should talk to her because she was being abused by Kamoshida-sensei."
"Something like that, I guess. I don't remember exactly what words I used."
"But you did tell me about her. The day after that, she jumped from the roof."
His fingers tightened again.
"You even ran to get to her ahead of everyone else," she continued. "It's admirable to care that much for someone you didn't know well."
"Basic human decency," he replied.
"Not many of the other students did that, so it stands out as remarkable."
"It's unfortunate that our standards have fallen so low that me doing what I did is remarkable. Whatever is the world coming to?"
Niijima-san's eyes narrowed at the dig. "You did only meet her after coming here, right?"
"Yes."
"You'd never heard of her before being enrolled in Shujin?"
"Correct."
"You said you spoke to her before she... had her incident. Is that where you heard about her being hurt?"
"Why the interest?"
Kawakami put in, "It seems odd that she'd tell you, a stranger, something like that. Why not someone else?"
"You should ask her."
"She's in the hospital."
"Right."
"That's all you have to say?"
"She would be a great source of answers for these questions you're asking me, but you're here instead of there." His eyes narrowed. "I wonder why that might be. A guilty conscience on someone's part, maybe?"
Niijima-san flinched. Kawakami didn't notice and pushed. "It sounds like you're dodging the question. This comes from the principal himself, you know."
"But you're the one asking the questions? Interesting."
"You're not answering them very well, incidentally."
"Am I being accused of something, Kawakami-sensei? You should speak to the proper authorities if I am."
"That wouldn't end well for you, you know."
"Why is that your concern?"
Kawakami pushed harder. "What are you hiding, Kurusu-san? You knew about Suzui-san and the gym students before we did, Kamoshida-sensei has a breakdown within a month of you arriving, and you've made friends with Sakamoto Ryuji, a known troublemaker. You're in the middle of a lot of things, so what did you see that no one else did?"
He pushed right back. "Mishima Yuuki taking a ball to the face and no one helping him, not the students or the teachers who are now pretending like they cared right from the start. Kamoshida-sensei calling to Suzui-san and her flinching shortly before I saw her covered in makeup and bruises while no one helped her. I saw her laughing and having fun with her friends one day, but then she was like a different person a day or two later, and apparently nobody noticed. That's what I saw, and that's what's been going on here, Sensei."
Kawakami hedged. "That's a slant. Things around here aren't what you make them out to be."
"Or perhaps things are exactly how I'm making them out to be and no one said anything because everyone knew and nobody cared," he flared. "Maybe they saw it and ignored it because it was easier for them to do so. It wouldn't be the first time someone at Shujin did that, would it?"
She couldn't stop the words this time. "And you're different? That's a hard sell, considering your reputation."
Kurusu-san's eyes flashed, and his smirk slipped into a sneer. "My reputation, hm? It's only odd to those who buy into what people say, but who don't validate those things for themselves, Kawakami-sensei. Step outside of the gossip circle and it's much easier to see things for yourself."
"What does that mean?"
"Who knows?" He looked at Niijima-san and rose. "I'm leaving. Exams are coming up and I need to study. I told you already, Senpai, I just used my eyes and followed where they led me. If that's a novel concept for some people then I don't know what else to tell you."
"Your mouth is going to get you into trouble, Kurusu-san," Kawakami warned.
"So be it. We're done." He turned toward the door but stopped. "If you'd like to discuss this further, Senpai, without the burden of preconceptions, then we can do this again. But if you or others buy into lies and unsubstantiated rumors, then I can't help you and neither can anyone else." He left, ignoring Kawakami clearing her throat.
She flounced into her seat. "Talk about an attitude. He'll be lucky if he doesn't get expelled."
Niijima-san pursed her lips. "Maybe. I think he was being honest. He's consistent, at least, and I get the impression that he dislikes people who believe the rumors about him, or in general."
Kawakami sulked.
"That doesn't mean he's told us everything, of course," Niijima-san went on. "I'll have to think about this. Thank you, Sensei."
That ended the meeting. Kurusu-san's gall irritated Kawakami into the following week, and she watched him during the first day of exams. If he was aware of her, it didn't show. He finished earlier than she expected. When she went through the stack of exams for his class later that day, she found his near the top and took it out to mark it. Blow her off, huh? She'd show him.
Ushimaru-sensei glanced over her shoulder a few minutes later and grunted. "Kurusu-san. How did he do?"
Kawakami reported with surprise, "Quite well."
"Hmph. Cheating, I'm sure, or he's got people digging for answers for him."
Something about the way Ushimaru-sensei spoke made Kawakami pause. "He doesn't seem the sort," she replied after a moment, recalling the depth of those gray eyes. He might mouth off and be ornery and irritating, but cheating didn't seem like him. And even she had heard the whispers behind his back. He was treated like a pariah; who would help him get the answers?
"Well, the results can speak for themselves," Ushimaru-sensei concluded.
Kawakami agreed on that point, so she watched Kurusu-san each day of exams. Not as a teacher looking for a cheater, but as an instructor watching her student. After each day's tests, she ignored the siren call of beer and familiar uniformity to dig up his test sheets and mark them. And each day her instincts, not her ego, were proven correct. A cheater would have had the mirror answer sheet to the top scorers in the class, or would have been consistently poor in class and shown suspiciously good test results. Kurusu-san exhibited neither fault and simply surprised her by scoring higher than she expected, but not perfect. He was in the top 50 of his grade, a place that good studying and hard work would get him.
"A cheater who knows the system," Ushimaru-sensei concluded when she shared the results. "He'll slip up, and once we prove it he'll be out."
Kawakami paused. Could she call Kurusu-san that? Did the label really fit? Something nudged her that little bit further, a trace of the color of the past bleeding back into her vision, and she considered his actions and the context of what she knew and from where.
Maybe he was a delinquent on his last strike, she considered.
Or maybe – just maybe – not.