Disclaimer:

I do not own the story and the concepts represented in the fiction written. This fiction and all Persona related fictions belong to Atlus, the fantastic company that created the games.

Author's Note:

I'm posting this chapter much later than I intended. But, hey, you know. Better late than never. With school and my leadership course, my time has pretty much been reduced to studying and more studying. Forgetting about that though, this was an enjoyable chapter to write, and it might be my favorite so far. I hope you guys enjoy it. As always please favorite, follow, and review. Also, any feedback is highly appreciated.

Comments to Reviews:

rebfan90: Thanks! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

KingPlotBunny: The future chapters are going to be fun. You'll never see it coming!

Erelia: Thank you so much for your review. A big focus of mine is making the relationships feel natural, especially between Haru and Akira. I hope you also enjoy how their relationship, and everyone else's, is explored in this chapter too.

prince of underbrush: Thank you for your review. Working on developing the character's past and future simultaneously while creating a sense of suspense and hindsight was something I wasn't keen on in the beginning. I'm glad that it's paying, and you enjoy the flow of the story.

Before

5/17

Akira wouldn't admit it to anyone but seeing the student body president interrogate Mishima sent anxiety waves through his chest. The young woman was on to him and his mix-matched gang of thieves, and there was only so much time before they slipped up.

"Damn, it'd be bad if she found us all here," mused Ryuji. "We should split."

"Yeah," said Ann. "I'll see you guys later."

After a small chorus of goodbyes, the gang ventured off in separate directions – Morgana stealthy jumping into Akira's bag.

It was then that the raven-haired youth realized something. The shortest route to Akira's next destination, the roof, required him to pass the young woman he was trying to avoid.

What to do, he thought. Would avoiding the student body president seem suspicious?

Well, he was innocent until proven guilty, so he mustered his courage and began to walk. The student president immediately noticed him, her ruby red eyes trained on him. Akira steeled himself, walking past, and expected some remark. To his immense relief, none came, and he made his journey to the school rooftop undisturbed.

Climbing up the steps to the gardening club, Akira saw Haru kneeling before an array of vegetables. He watched her as he maneuvered to the empty desks and placed his bag on one. Morgana took the opportunity to free himself and stretch adorably.

Haru, wholly immersed in her task, either didn't realize he'd arrived with Morgana or chose not to react. Akira doubted the latter, but he continued to observe his upperclassmen as she tended to the garden. His eyes lingered on the vegetables, the tomatoes and potatoes in particular.

Despite the Metaverse's strangeness, the youth still found it hard to believe how invigorating Haru's freshly grown vegetables were. He and the others had long discovered the benefits of bringing food to the Metaverse. Still, no snack or cuisine could compare to the veggies in his line of vision.

Somehow, eating one in the Metaverse was the equivalent of chugging an energy drink – according to Ryuji, perhaps not the most reliable source. Nonetheless, eating vegetables took a whole new meaning in an alternate reality.

Since tomatoes and potatoes were the only greens, Ann would tolerate, Akira planted those most. When the idea of eating vegetables instead of her snacks was first brought up, the ashen-blond looked as ill as when she saw her doubleganger in Kamoshida's palace. It took many insisting and promises of sweets to convince Ann to try the damn things!

Akira grimaced at the thought; that he would have to get a second part-time job to fund that promise.

Movement on the desktops via Morgana jolted Haru's concentration, and the young woman turned sharply in Akira and Morgana's direction. The parts of her body worked opposite each other, her torso falling back as her legs stayed rooted until she fell on her back with a quiet yelp.

"Ow, ow, ow…."

"Timber…"

"Akira!" Haru said, sitting up and smoothing out the edges of her skirt. "When did you arrive? Didn't anyone tell you that you shouldn't sneak up on a lady?"

"I'm sorry," he quickly amended with a smirk. He offered his hand. "You looked so focused. I didn't want to disturb you."

Haru accepted his hand. "Well, that's very gentlemanly of you."

Akira pulled her up, perhaps with too much force – his exploits in the Metaverse affecting him in reality also – and the two stood mere inches apart.

Akira couldn't resist. Against his better judgment, he channeled Ame no Uzume, his latest Lovers persona. He said, "I'm a gentleman if that's your preference, although..."

Akira was already regretting his decision – donning a persona of the Lovers arcana always brought out a more flirtatious aspect of his personality. With Ann, he could joke and exchange silly banter. Still, with Haru, Akira had always kept Arsene or, more recently, Yaksini of the Empress Arcana. Oh well, he was interested in where the exchange would lead.

So, with complete abandonment, Akira said, "I can be other things if you'd like."

Akira could see Morgana staring at him with the kind of stare he'd usually reserved for Ryuji. The gaze that said you messed up majorly. Akira stepped back from Haru, swapping persona to Yaksini, and carefully considered his following words.

"Haru –"

"Akira!"

The young man stood erect, bracing himself.

"I-I recall that earlier this month, you had your midterm e-exams."

"Yes, not too long ago."

"I see…I apologize. I only realized today, and instead of helping you study, I had your help with the garden."

"I'm a member of the club. I wouldn't do it if I didn't enjoy it."

He thought those vegetables saved his life more than he could count.

"OK, that's good. H-have you received your results yet?"

"For the exam? No, not yet. They should be posted soon."

Haru smiled; it was a small and hesitant thing. "How do you think you did?"

Akira allowed himself to smile as well. "Pretty good, I think."

His upperclassmen pursed her lips, contemplating something beyond his ability to gauge. He studied Haru, scrutinizing her in an attempt to read her intentions. Did his stunt make things awkward for her? Should he apologize?

Akira opened his mouth when the young woman in front of him thrust her hands out, holding a ticket.

"Would you like to go out with me somewhere tomorrow?"

And Akira, too perplexed by the unexpected development, just nodded his head and took the ticket. Haru proceeded to exit the roof too quickly for him to form any words.

5/18

Before the beeping of his phone alarm could sound, Akira's eyes opened, taking in the roof of Leblanc's attic. He inhaled softly and felt a familiar weight on his abdomen. He raised his head slightly from his pillow to see Morgana curled up in a ball on his chest. Akira sighed.

The sight of Morgana on him no longer bothered Akira as much as it had in the past. In fact, to wake up without the feline would be outside of the norm now. And normality, stability, and familiarity were what he needed in his life.

When each passing day presented something more outrageous, you tended to want security in something stable, which wouldn't twist and turn into something unidentifiable.

Morgana stirred a little. The light from the lone window by the bed shone in his eyes, and Akira covered his face. Closing his eyes, Akira did a mental survey of the persona lingering in his soul.

They were like phantoms, ghostly figures – unless you looked close enough – floating over a sheet of still water. Six different masks, sources of power, to use in or out of the Metaverse: Arsene, Yaksini, Ame no Uzume, Kin-Ki, Matador, and Phoenix.

Aspects of himself to call and discard at will.

Though, no matter how much the sinister old man and his two attendants assured him, Akira couldn't accept it as usual.

How could anyone fit into someone's else shoes, see the world so vividly through their eyes, without any repercussions?

How could anyone feel secure when their inner world was as chaotic as their external world?

His cell phone beeped, and the feline on his chest stirred. Slow and adorably, Morgana twists and turns. His blue eyes fluttered open, and he smiled as much as a cat could at the raven-haired youth.

"Morning, Akira."

"Morning," replied Akira, sitting up.

"Hmm…"

The intense look Morgana was giving him was unnerving.

"So…" began the feline.

"Yeah…?"

Morgana raised a paw to his mouth, did something reminiscent of a cough, and said, "I'm a gentleman if that's your preference, although..."

Oh no. Yesterday's events started returning to Akira, superseding his earlier thoughts' importance.

"Morgana, stop –"

And, of course, being Morgana, the cat did not stop. "I can be other things if you'd like."

Akira covered his face with his hands and rubbed tiredly. It was too early in the morning for whatever stunt Morgana was pulling.

"Want to explain what that was yesterday," Morgana said, his expression very human-like.

Akira sighed. How could he even begin to explain?

Hey, there's this blue door in random places, and inside is a room where I'm a prisoner, outfit and all, and the guy in charge is something straight out of a horror flick, and his attendants are little girls and, and, and –

Akira fell on his back, causing the bed to shake and startling Morgana.

And inside this room, these aspects of myself get guillotined – exactly how it sounds – and something new is created and – I used the wrong part of myself to talk to Haru because who knows!

In frustration, Akira wiped his face and balled his hands into a fist. What was to come of him? Who was he becoming by undergoing these supernatural personality warps?

Morgana, sensing the turmoil within the youth, ceased his line of questioning. Instead, the feline did something uncharacteristic, climbing higher on Akira's chest and nuzzling against his clenched fist.

Akira looked up at his fellow phantom thief. "Morgana?"

"Hey, I'm sor – I recognize that something's on your mind. Being the fantastic guy I am, I'm willing to hear you out and cut you slack."

Akira managed a grin, strained as it may have been. He exhaled, willing some of the emotions bubbling in his stomach to settle.

"I'm OK," he said. "I'm OK…just a bit tired."

"Tired?" inquired the cat.

"Yeah. Everything's been a little overwhelming. From me first arriving here to Kamoshida, awakening my persona, Mementos, and now Madarame."

"Don't forget," said Morgana, "you have two part-time jobs, your time with the doctor down the street, buying equipment for everyone, making coffee downstairs with Boss, studying for school, the school itself, your club with Haru –"

"Alright, alright," Akira interrupted. "Please don't remind me. I feel worse just thinking of all that."

"Well, duh, who wouldn't?"

Akira looked at Morgana questionably.

Morgana facepalmed – or cat-palmed. "You do amazing things daily, juggle more activities than most people, and you can't even realize?"

"Realize what?"

"You're stressed! Geez!"

"Stressed…?"

Under Morgana's disbelieving stare, Akira processed the new information. Stressed?

He thought back to his life before the Metaverse, Shujin Academy, his friends, and the entirety of Tokyo. He thought of the countryside and all its simplicity. While mundane, his life was comfortable, and his only worries were exams, friends, girls, and school clubs here and there.

Nothing near the magnitude of what he was currently involved in. He imagined joining every club a school had to offer was less demanding than the current status quo. So then, were his thoughts and feelings of being overwhelmed by stress?

Perhaps. Although, the stress was most likely a symptom of the cause – Akira's growing concern about his identity.

"Maybe," Akira said after a long silence.

Morgana huffed as if insulted. Nimbly, the cat jumped off the bed and traveled to the sofa where Akira's uniform was neatly folded from the previous day. The raven-haired youth watched as the cat dug into his trousers' pockets and produced a piece of paper.

Something about the paper in Morgana's mouth nudged Akira's brain. The cat, with exceptional grace, returned to Akira's lap and dropped the article like it were an offering to appease the gods.

"Check it out," said the feline.

Akira did. It was the ticket Haru had given him.

"If you're feeling so worked up lately, you should take a break." Morgana pointed a paw at the ticket. "Luckily for you, a certain member of the opposite sex has found you desirable. No surprise there. You spend so much time with me that my charm is all over you. You're welcome."

Charm or cat hair, Akira wanted to point out.

Examining the ticket, Akira considered Morgana's words. Haru, finding him attractive was unlikely. He'd been invited to similar and more desert-packed outings with Ann. He imagined this particular invitation was the same. But his actions yesterday toward his upperclassmen were still off, potentially damaging the goodwill he'd established so far. He couldn't risk damaging the bond between him and Haru.

He decided to accept Haru's offer. The chance of the Empress being negatively affected was too costly. And maybe Morgana was right, and he was stressed. A free day with his upperclassmen might be the breather he desperately needed.

"So," inquired the cat," have you decided?"

"Yeah…I think I'll go with Haru today."

"Good, good. Well, with that done, you should probably hurry. You might be late for school at this rate."

Alarmed, Akira reached for his phone and checked the time; his usual train would arrive in fifteen minutes.

O

"Now, listen here. We can't mess this up, NO MATTER WHAT! OK!?"

Ann's glare was directed at Akira as if success was ultimately his responsibility. In a way, it was; he was the leader.

"Heck, yea," chipped in Ryuji. "Hell, what are we waitin' for? Let's get that asshat!"

Now both blonds trained their determined gazes at their stoic leader. Akira pushed his glasses up, a physical means of assessing his persona when he couldn't concentrate, and assured himself he had Arsene donned. With a group, he realized the persona of the Fool arcana was the most suitable.

"About that," he began when his cellphone beeped. Ann and Ryuji looked at him curiously as he retrieved the device and smirked at a text.

"I got plans today," he said after pocketing the device.

"Plans," both blonds said simultaneously.

"He's got a date," Morgana informed.

His friends reacted differently. Ryuji jumped to his feet and shook Akira's shoulders repeatedly. Ann's fury over being drawn naked was defeated. She looked confused, blinking numerous times.

"Dude, dude, dude! Who's this chick? Someone from our school? No! Better, huh? An older chick, huh, huh, huh!?"

Akira copied Ryuji, gripping the blonde's shoulders. They looked like delinquents locked in a stalemate or trading secrets. "First of all, calm down. You're attracting too much attention."

Ryuji stopped shaking him for a start.

"Second of all, it's Haru – my mentor. And no, before you ask, it's not a date…just an outing."

Akira's words fell on deaf ears, Ryuji gasping at him as if he'd just shared the answers to every midterm exam. Ryuji let go of Akira.

"Dude! You're going out with her! She's fire. Oh, damn those curves, hips and –"

"Ryuji, shut up!" Thankfully, Ann intervened before the loudmouth of the group continued.

"Geez, alright, don't have to be such a buzzkill," murmured Ryuji, rubbing the back of his head with a scowl.

"Again, zip it," said Ann. She turned her attention to Akira. "And you!"

Akira pointed at his face, surprised. "Me?"

"Yes, you! What are you planning a date when we've got important things to do?" Ann raised her hand to her ear in the shape of a phone. "Hello? Yes? Hi, this is Akira, and I'm going to completely disregard everything important, like my friend Ann being painted naked, to go out with a girl!"

"Lady Ann," said Morgana from Akira's bag. "Akira's conducting this outing, not date, to secure more vegetables for when we go to Madarame's palace."

And just like that, Ann paused in her rant to consider Morgana's explanation. God bless that cat, Akira thought.

"Wha – what?"

Morgana poked his head further out of the Shijin schoolbag. "Yes, Lady Ann. We're down on supplies because of our trips to Mementos. Akira wanted to get more through Haru. In no way is he, or I, forgetting about what's at stake during this mission."

"Oh…" A blush crept over Ann's pale features. "T-that makes sense. More vegetables, yeah…." Then, "Eww, do we really need more?"

"Come on, Ann," urged Ryuji. "We've been over this! Those veggies are supercharged! Heh, you're like a kid."

"I don't want to hear that from you." Ann looked at Akira and fixed him a frown. "Hey, didn't you promise me an outing of sweets if I went along with eating the veggies?"

Oh, yeah, Akira thought. Because who else do I have to bribe to eat well?

Ryuji placed a hand on Akira's shoulder and shook his head. "You dug your own grave with that one."

"Oh, yeah," Akira said, shrugging the hand away. "Maybe you'd like to contribute by getting a part-time job too?"

"Wha, no way! Money management is all you."

So are strategy, time, personnel, and many other things involving management. Akira grimaced. Hell, no wonder I'm stressed.

"Look. Anyway, I have to get going. I promise we'll go to the palace sometime this week. Just…not today. Agreed?"

His friends nodded, Morgana wiggling in his bag to signify his approval.

"If the meeting's done, I'll see you guys later," Ryuji said, taking his leave first. Akira and Ann waved him goodbye.

"See you later, Ann," said Akira, turning in the direction of the turnstiles.

X

Several realizations were donned on Akira as he walked to Madarame's gallery. He was going to visit the latest target of the Phantom Thieves on his home court – again!

What if Madarame or Yusuke recognized him?

Yusuke would probably make good on his promise to sic security after Akira. That would result in him breaking his probation and getting sent to juvenile hall. Then – well, whatever other terrible things came after.

However, Morgana didn't share Akira's fears, aggressively urging him to go along with Haru. Damn that cat if he wasn't persuasive, Akira thought, but Akira had his reasons for not blowing off the invitation.

Igor and his assistants had once warned Akira of the dangers of reversing confidants. If building a more reliable connection with someone was how the power of confidants and his persona grew, then damaging the link – the relationship – resulted in the opposite.

Akira had yet to screw up that bad, and he wasn't eager to start.

He snapped out of his musings and looked to see the gallery's unique structural design nearing. It was crowded with people trickling in and out of the building; Haru wasn't in sight.

Suddenly, within the confines of his soul, Yaksini of the Empress arcana stir. Like an internal radar, Yaksini directed Akira's gaze to the corner of the building, where a lone female stood with her head down.

Akira wouldn't have recognized her without his persona; she looked different. He walked over.

"Hey," he said in greeting.

Haru jumped. "Akira!"

"The one and only," he said with a comical bow.

Haru made a frown that didn't match the mirth in her eyes. "You're sneaking around is going to give me a heart attack. I should put a bell on you."

Akira laughed. "Treating me like a house pet, are we? I might agree if you promise to feed and shelter me, but…."

"Hmm?" Haru tilted her head, a smile playing on her lips.

"Just no baths," Akira said stoically.

Haru placed a hand over her mouth to conceal her laughter.

"No deal then," Haru said.

"Ah, too bad." Akira's expression stilled. "You look great, by the way."

And it was true. Forgoing the usual hairstyle, Haru's curly hair was in a ponytail. Her bangs were neatly parted, revealing her face and warm brown eyes. She wore a sleeveless green turtleneck dress, white pantyhose, and cream pumps, and in her hands, she carried a simple purse that matched her dress.

"T-thank you." His upperclassman shied away from his gaze. "You look handsome as well."

Akira smiled. He dressed casually, wearing a black short-sleeved t-shirt, blue jeans, and brown shoes. Over his gray eyes were his trademark glasses.

"Thanks," he said. Momentarily, his gaze drifted to the gallery entrance, squishing the anxiety of being noticed.

He shallowed, switched persona to Yaksini, then gestured to Haru, "Ready to go?"

She nodded, and the twosome ventured inside, where a tall man pointed them to the receptionist who took their tickets, gave them their receipts, and sent them on their way.

Everything was as Akira remembered it. The masterfully drawn paintings hung up for display with crowds of excited onlookers offering lavish praise. A few days ago, Akira was just the same as them, marveling at each work of art. But that was before the Phantom Thieves confirmed what they had already suspected. Madarame was a fake, cheating abuser.

Akira couldn't stare at paintings with the same fascination. Luckily, neither Madarame nor Yusuke was around, or the arts would have been much harder to tolerate. Haru, however, shared everyone else's amazement, pointing and commenting on each piece they came across.

So, Akira tried. He tried his hardest to share in her enthusiasm despite the anxiety flaring in his stomach at the possibility of Yusuke appearing out of nowhere or Madarame remembering him. Despite the so-called works of art being products of lies, abuse, and neglect.

It came to him as a surprise when Haru touched his arm and said, "You aren't enjoying yourself, are you?"

"No, I am."

"Akira," she said with a sigh. "Since we entered, you've glared at every picture."

Akira blinked.

Haru continued. "It was wrong of me to assume you'd like something without first consulting you. I'm sorry."

"No, no, I like art…usually."

"Usually?"

Akira sighed and led them to a corner where there were seats. He could maintain a complete view of everyone entering and exiting the gallery.

"I've…heard rumors about Madarame that make it hard to appreciate his paintings."

"What kind of rumors?"

Akira whispered, "That Madarame doesn't make his paintings. He gets his pupils to make them then takes the credit and abandons them later."

Haru's eyes widened.

"I know that it could just be rumors, but it…makes it hard to stomach the sight of Madarame's art in the chance that it is true."

Haru was quiet. Then, surprising Akira, she stood up.

"I can see what that would be upsetting. Rumors are just rumors, but…at the chance of truth in them, I'd find being here hard too."

"Thank you. I'm sorry if I ruined the gallery for you."

"Nonsense, but…there's something else I've planned if you're willing?"

Akira cocked an eyebrow. "Of course. What do you have planned?

X

Akira felt out of place under the dim and intimate light from the restaurant's chandelier and the smooth jazz from the live musicians. Haru was conversing with the waitress and ordering their drinks.

"So," said Haru. She swiped through the menu. "If there's something on the menu you're confused about, just ask. And don't worry about the prices. It's on me."

Akira nodded and took a look at his menu. He felt his insides drop at the prices.

"Do you…have any recommendations?"

Haru smiled at him sympathetically. Something told Akira that Haru understood how overwhelmed he was feeling inside. He ordered the same meal as Haru, a foreign cuisine he couldn't pronounce. Nonetheless, the food was divine.

"Thank you for this, Haru. I can't remember the last I've had something so good."

"It's my pleasure, Akira," Haru said. "Consider it…a late welcoming event to the gardening club."

"Best welcome I've ever had."

"I'm glad. Say, would you be interested in one more venture for the night?"

Akira checked the time on his phone; he still had a few more hours before his curfew. "What do you have in mind?"

The waitress returned with the check. Haru gave the young woman a credit card without looking at the receipt.

"I'll be back momentarily, ma'am," said the waitress before walking away.

"Thank you." Haru turned to Akira. "So, would you be interested in going to the movies?"

Alarms ranged in Akira's head.

Dinner and movie, he thought. Maybe Morgana wasn't off in his assessment.

"Part of the welcoming event," Akira asked.

Haru's smile was mystifying even with a persona of the matching arcana. "Of course."

The twosome left the restaurant and traversed the crowded streets of Shibuya. They walked in silence, but it wasn't at all uncomfortable. More and more, Akira thought of Morgana's assessment of Haru's attraction toward him. It was outside the realm of possibility until now, and Akira couldn't figure out his feelings on the matter.

He would have dwelled on it more, but they reached their destination.

"Anything you'd be interested in watching?" Akira asked.

"There are so many options. I can't decide but – oh! This one looks splendid. Akira, come to look!"

What Akira expected was a romance or a comedy. Not a horror with a poster that looked as horrifying as something from Mementos.

"From the Depths of Evil," Akira read out loud while eyeing Haru. "Something you'd be interested in?"

"Yes, greatly. The picture tells me it'll be full of blood and carnage."

Holy hell, Akira thought.

"Is…that strange?"

"No, no…of course not. I was interested in this one too for, you know, the blood…and carnage."

Haru's radiant smile prevented Akira from saying anything else. Despite Haru's insistence on paying, he bought the tickets and mentally steeled himself for a few hours of death and destruction.

Haru, bless her soul, watched the film without blinking at the most gruesome scenes. Like a character's guts being pulled out with a sickle. That might have been her favorite part.

At some point during the film, Haru held onto Akira's shoulder. Not out of fear or anxiety but from excitement.

Again, Akira thought. Holy hell.

The film ended as bleak as Akira predicted. Most of the cast were mutilated, and the sole survivor was too traumatized to function correctly. The police arrived after the fact without serving any relevance—typical law enforcement.

The twosome exited the theater; Haru as chipper as a woodchipper, and Akira trying to keep his exquisite dinner from appearing again. They walked toward the center of Shibuya. The number of people around them had lessened in their time in the movie.

"What an ingenious twist the directors included about the killer. I never saw it coming! What did you think, Akira?"

"It…was really bloody."

"Oh, yes. The visual effects were very realistic. I wonder if a human's face really caves in if smashed?"

A low chuckle escaped his lips at the absurdity of the conversation. "I really hope I never find out. The movie answered any curiosity I might have had about the subject."

He glanced at the smiling girl alongside him. "I'm surprised you enjoyed the film so much."

She had the decency to look abashed. "Ah, yes. I find films such as those to be stress-relieving. The way the tension builds in your chest and shoulders is exhilarating."

"You like the adrenaline," Akira realized.

Haru slowed and considered his words. "Yes, I suppose that's true. Even for a moment, it's an escape from the restrictions of the present."

Akira didn't get a chance to question her statement. A black limousine stopped before them, and a stern-looking man stepped out. Akira's first reaction was to grab Haru and run, but Haru stepped forward.

"Is it that time already?"

"Yes, madam."

"I see."

Haru turned to Akira. "Thank you for accompanying me today. I will see you at school, and…maybe we can have another outing."

"Of course," Akira said, eyeing the limousine and man critically.

Haru turned to leave but paused mid-step and shifted toward Akira. Later, he would realize that she intended for a brush against his cheek, not a full-blown kiss. That she never anticipated, he'd turn his head so quickly.

It was a quick contact of lips, wide eyes of surprise, and a speedy departure on her end. Akira just stood still, mind numb from the exchange. He watched the limousine disappear and could only think of her soft lips against his and how a cat was more romantically savvy than him.