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:

Hey everyone,

As always, thank you to everyone who Favorited and Followed my story and made a comment. The feedback is fantastic and helps me know where I can improve and make the story better. For instance, I've stopped using Italics for chapters based on past events. From now on, sections in the past will have the designation "Before" above the date, while sections about the present are "After." I made these changes to previous chapters (1-18) and corrected some grammatical errors I've found. Lastly, I'm working on a new story based on The Legend of Zelda. If that interests anyone, check it out—The King of Twilight and the Champion of the Wild.

Comments to Reviews:

prince of underbrush: Writing chapters like that (chapter 18) is rough because you have to really imagine them (Akira) going through that. Ugh, since the P5 protagonist is silent, the game doesn't portray how terrible his circumstances are.

SomePersonaFan: I completely agree. She has the most interesting circumstances, and I wish the game covered more of it. It's actually the main reason I decided to write this story!

Ganheim: As always, your feedback is fantastic. As I mentioned in the author's note, I decided to remove the italics. If you notice any other areas where improvement can be made, don't hesitate to point them out!

Of all the things Joker expects upon reaching the end of Kaneshiro's palace, a giant, metallic safe is not one of them. The cognitive world continues to baffle him with its outlandish constructs.

"Greetings," a cold voice says, approaching: Kaneshiro's shadow. "Welcome to my private bank."

Two thugs, suspiciously human in appearance, flank the shadow. Joker slowly rests his hand on the grip of his pistol. Things would escalate quickly.

"I'm surprised you made it this far," sneers the shadow. "Truly, a surprise."

"Is it?" Queen says. "Don't be ridiculous."

"We're goin' to kick your ass, then take your treasure," Skull proclaims. "That'll save everyone that suffered 'cause of you."

The shadow's gaze narrows like slits. "You simply don't understand. It is power that allows those few individuals to control everyone else. This world has an order, and that is it."

"To hell with that order," Joker resorts.

"After we take you down, people will believe in us more!" Panther says. "People will see that they don't have to take crap from people like you!"

"So naïve," the shadow roars.

Tendrils of darkness swim underneath its feet, submerging its body in shadows. The shadows consume it and then explode. The thugs flanking the shadows run because of a human-fly hybrid with countless red eyes and veiny wings before them. Joker doesn't blame them. He honestly wants to unload a clip into the monstrosity.

The shadow pats a fist against its chest with a smug sneer. "I can take care of this myself. Come get some!"

Queen revs up the handles of her persona, her expression murderous. "I'll tear that filthy smile right off your face!"

Her rage is so potent Joker can't find the will to intervene. Instead, he mentally arranges the team's action plan around Queen's fury.

"Fox, Morgana, provide cover for Queen. Morgana, heal when necessary. Skull and Panther, let's go!"

Quickly, they surround the human fly. Queen is vengeful yet calculating in her pursuit, sending volleys after volleys of nuclear spells at the shadow with occasional right and left hooks. Whenever she pauses or takes a step back, Skull is there to deliver a crushing blow with his baseball bat. Panther attacks from a farther distance, sending swarms of fireballs and laying down rounds of her Uzi.

Further away, Fox casts Sukukaja while Morgana fixes their scrapes and bruises. Joker is just as task-oriented, alternating between Isis and Lamia, fire and wind spells to keep the shadow on the defensive. After landing another decisive hit, the shadow staggers back, its white suit disfigured and discolored. Black ichor oozes from the wounds on its body.

"The hell…you kids are more stringent than you look," the shadow pants, gripping its midsection. "But that's ok. Just wait till I get serious!"

"Yeah, right!" Skull resorts. "Like there's anythin' you got that can take us down!"

"Oh…well, you asked for it!" The shadow avoids another nuclear spell from Queen, straightens, and points a finger in the air. "Come now! My guardian robot."

The most unusual event is set in motion. The metallic safe center opens like a secret compartment, and Kaneshiro's shadow disappears behind the opening. The dial on the safe turns almost magically, clicking into place, and the circle locks undo. The safe opens, and waiting behind it is –

"Is-is that piggy bank?" Panther voices.

"My, what a grotesque sight," mummers Fox.

"Gyahahahaha! You ready to die!"

Joker gulps. He spares Skull a glance. "Next time, don't unnecessarily antagonize the shadow."

Skull glances at Joker, then at the giant, metal piggy bank, aghast. "Dude, what the hell?"

Before

7/9

He can feel the question Ms. Usami is preparing to throw his way. The signs are all there: glance in his direction, narrowed eyes, smirk. Let's see if the school delinquent can answer this one. Usually, he is more prepared to prove people wrong about his character. Acing his exams and answering questions in class does just that. Still, all it takes is one slip-up for him to revert to the uneducated troublemaker.

At the moment, though, his mind is far away – reliving an event from not too long ago, when the life of his friends and him was a mistake or two from ending.

"Speaking of stars," Ms. Usami continues, "can you answer this question, Akira-san?"

The teacher takes his silence for confusion and spares him after a minute, aiming the question at an equally unprepared student.

"Hey," hisses Morgana from Akira's desk.

Akira looks down rather lamely. "Hm?"

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because you spaced out there completely. You were having a Ryuji moment!"

Akira quirks an eyebrow. Since when did Ryuji become the butt of the feline's jokes?

Before he can respond, Ms. Usami sighs. "Does anyone know the answer to this question?"

She moves to the blackboard to write the question on the blackboard.

"Maybe this will help," she says. "So, anyone?"

This time Akira is prepared, raising his hand and giving the correct answer.

"Impressive," smiles Ms. Usmai. "180 degrees is the correct answer. I suppose everyone just needs visual aid."

Akira can practically feel his classmates' acceptance, some murmuring that perhaps he is more than a delinquent. Even Ann turns around and sends him a wink in acknowledgment. Akira smiles back.

Ms. Usmai continues her math lecture, occasionally referring to current events and relating them to math. She keeps the lesson interesting, but Akira can't muster the willpower to keep his mind going astray. His gaze turns towards the window and outside, where the clouds are gray and float lazily in the sky.

His thoughts return to the battle against Kaneshiro's shadow. Akira mentally debates tactics and formations while visualizing the fight and the team's strengths and weaknesses. When his phone vibrates in his pocket, he can feel an idea forming, some combination attack between Ryuji and Yusuke.

Sparing a glance at the teacher –pointing out the relevance of geometry in everyday life – Akira retrieves the device. He carefully opens it inside his deck, avoiding pressing the phone into Morgana.

"Oh, who's it from?"

Akira ignores him.

It's a text from Haru asking about his availability in the evening with a blushing emoji. Akira feels his throat constrict, and he swallows.

He responds: Of course, milady.

She responds immediately with another emoji with a big smile. Akira can't help but smile, too.

"Hey," hisses Morgana, "is it good news? You're smiling. Come on, tell me."

"Hm, kitty needs to learn to mind his own business."

"Don't call me a kitty!" Morgana growls.

The teacher pauses in her speech. She, along with everyone in the class, looks around.

"W-Was that a cat?"

O

Standing in a makeshift circle at the hideaway accessway, the team celebrates their success in changing Kaneshiro's shadow. Everyone but Makoto is present.

"S-So, Ms. Usmai stops talking and looks around the classroom, asking if anyone else heard the cat!?"

Ann continues to laugh, leaning back against the railings. Her delight is infectious, and everyone enjoys her recount of the incident.

"I swear," she continues, wiping a finger across her eye, "Akira went pale. You were staring into your desk at Morgana like you wanted to skin him alive!"

"L-Lady Ann, it wasn't that funny," Morgana mummers weakly.

"It was, though," counters Akira.

Ryuji snorts. "Morgana, we'll have to put a muzzle on you!"

"Try it, and I'll claw your eyes out!"

"Hm, the anger in your eyes," muses Yusuke, "it makes for an exciting piece. Nature's wrath?"

Morgana groans while everyone else laughs harder.

"Alright, alright," says Akira, containing his mirth. "Let's start this planning. I can't stay all night?"

"Why not?" asks Ryuji. "Work or something?"

"Certainly nothing so mundane," says Yusuke, analyzing their leader with a critical gaze. "You seem excited about something?"

"Oh, going to buy something," voices Ann, "or get some food because you count me in!"

Akira feels his back against the metaphysical wall. "None of the above. Anyway, let's focus on – "

"It might have something to do with that text message he received in class," says Morgana.

All eyes fall on the feline and the young man holding the bag with the cat.

"Is it a chick," Ryuji practically yells. "Is she hot?"

"If so," comments Yusuke, "would she be interested in posing for a picture?"

Ann sends the artist a glare. "I can answer that for you. Um, no."

Akira restrains the urge to sigh. He spares the feline in his bag a glare, not surprised that Morgana grins back at him as much as a cat can. The meeting takes longer than he wants, and afterward, he races back to Leblanc.

Sojiro is behind the counter when he enters with his trademark apron over his shoulder.

"Good timing," Sojiro acknowledges. "I was just about to close up. Is your friend coming over?"

Akira frowns, placing his bag on the counter, while Morgana takes the opportunity to jump out and stretch. Akira doesn't know to reply to what Sojiro is implying, so he simply nods.

A thin smile slowly spreads across the older man's face. "Take any funny business upstairs, you understand?"

It is a struggle to maintain his blank expression. However, he is sure Sojiro can tell his embarrassment by the redness building at the tips of his ears.

Sojiro laughs as he finishes tidying up. "Hey, summer's just around the corner. Make sure not to slack off too much when it comes."

Akira nods, though Sojiro's statement makes him wonder about Tokyo in the summertime. How different will it be to summertime in his hometown, he wonders? Some part of him is excited to find out.

"Well," says the older male, "I'll be heading out. The fridge is restocked, and the coffee grounds, too. Don't make a mess, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," Akira says.

A small chime echoes throughout the store after his departure, and when it stops, a still silence engulfs the café. From his spot by the tables, Morgana gives Akira a meaningful look before traveling upstairs. He says, "You most certainly will not take any business upstairs. I sleep there, too!"

"Whatever you say," sighs the raven-haired youth, thankful for the solitude. Akira feels ready to smack his head against the wall from all the innuendos flying his way. Fortunately, the team never got around to learning about his plans for the night, or else Ryuji would bombard him with texts. Akira loves his friends. He's also learning to love Tokyo, but juggling many roles and responsibilities sometimes takes its toll.

A person is complicated, though. His personas keep him from self-imploding, but he wishes he could compartmentalize time with friends like he does the aspects of his soul. But adding more people to the mix is like navigating through rapid water with a toothpick as a paddle.

Akira sighs. He grabs his green apron from behind the counter. He prepares some coffee: Panama Esmeralda Geisha. He knows from experience that coffee before bed is asking for insomnia, but Haru insisted. She also inquired about his curry too. His persona of the Empress arcana may influence him, but he likes seeing her happy. Her joy is radiant and just as infectious as Ann's.

He goes through the motions of making curry, mentally debating the secret ingredient for the batch. So far, he has the entire team's – minus Makoto's – favorite component. Ann enjoys hers with honey or yogurt; Ryuji can't get enough curry with steak sauce. Yusuke is addicted to the red wine variant.

Akira preps the rice and sautés the onions and garlic over the stove. He seasons the chicken with salt, pepper, and two tsp of garam masala while recalling Sojiro's trivia facts about using coffee. The answer comes surprisingly quickly when he considers what type to make for Haru; her natural love for coffee is the only clue he needs.

(When used in curry, instant coffee brings a trace of bitterness and complexity to the dish, enhancing the curry flavor. Coffee has anti-aging and slimming properties, but in large amounts will cause the curry to become bitter. Take caution and add slowly!)

The low chime from the entrance makes Akira aware of Haru's appearance.

It almost scares the teen how he can recite the older male's instructions step by step. Fortunately, he's in the final stages of the meal, slowly mixing everything, so he can turn in her direction and smile.

"Hey, welcome," he says.

"Akira-Kun." Haru waves. "Hello, and thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

"Well, thanks for coming. No need to stand by the entrance. Come in and have a seat."

"Oh! Ok."

Almost hesitantly, Haru sits at the nearest table.

She looks nice, he thinks. She's dressed in a sleeveless light-green collar shirt tucked into a light-green skirt that reaches a little above her knees. It is very form-fitting, and Akira has to shake his head to keep his thoughts on making the curry.

"That smells divine," Haru comments, smelling the air.

"Thanks," Akira says, "I made a special curry, so I hope you like it."

"Special!"

At the surprise in her voice, Akira glances over his shoulder to see her full, luminous smile.

"You shouldn't have," Haru says.

Akira returns to the pot, smiling to himself. "I wanted to. Anyways, I have a question?"

"Hm?"

"Why here for our…outing? Not a restaurant or something else?"

Haru responds slowly. Akira uses the time to set plates with rice on one side next to the stove when the mix is perfect. It almost is. He can feel it.

"I suppose this café is refreshing. It makes me feel relaxed, like a getaway from the outside. Does that make sense to you?

Akira frowns. Only in his room upstairs does he feel that sense of privacy and space, though he doesn't mention that.

"I suppose," he says after a pause.

"Also," Haru adds, "the smell of coffee is wonderful."

"Oh, have I finally turned you from a tea drinker to a coffee drinker instead?"

Akira glances back to see Haru stifle a laugh. "Maybe."

With only a minute or so to go for the mix, Akira retrieves two mugs and fills them with Panama Esmeralda Geisha blend. As he approaches Haru with two cups in hand, he can see the excitement shining in her eyes.

"Here, I just made these, so they're still warm. Be careful."

He expects her to sip away the moment he places her cup down. Instead, she smiles softly and shakes her head, her puffy hair swaying with the moment.

"I'd rather wait until you're sitting with me. Coffee is best with great company."

Something about the action, the politeness of it, causes a tightening in his chest. Akira nods and returns to the mix. By this time, it is perfect, so he uses the ladle to layer the second half of their plates.

It looks terrific, he thinks.

Haru seems to agree, too. Once he sits across from her, she doesn't hesitate it tasting the meal and then her coffee.

"Wow, this coffee is amazing!"

"I'm glad you think so," Akira says.

He feels his inner Sojiro coming out when he concisely explains the roast's floral aroma, fresh acidity, and sweet after tones. It's also relatively rare, though he keeps that detail to himself.

Haru only giggles. In between bites, the flow of the conversation is fun and playful. They talk about their read-along's latest novel, The Illusory Popess, school, friends, and whatever crosses their minds.

The conversation stalls as they nurse the remnants of their coffee, but the silence is welcoming, almost soothing. Akira uses the silence to observe the girl across him – over the rim of his mug – and think about their strange relationship.

While not the most romantically experienced individual, he is aware of intimate they are at times. He wonders whether they are more than whatever they are between the kisses and embraces. He wonders if she wants that or – for that matter – if he wants that.

Finishing the last of his drink, Akira realizes he needs to learn more about the opposite sex and fast. Is it the level of their bond that is creating these circumstances? It seems unlikely that all of his female confidants would want physical affection. This thought scares him more than anything.

"Is there something on your mind?"

Akira blinks. "What?"

"You're staring at me very intently. Is there something you'd like to ask?"

He thinks many things, though he is hesitant to navigate rough waters without a life jacket. Instead, he says, "The fireworks festival is soon. Are you going?"

Akira immediately regrets the question. It is like a black hole sucks all the joy from the room when Haru turns her head with a pensive expression.

He ponders another topic when Haru says, "I have some family obligations on that day. I have a question of sorts, if that is all right?"

"Shoot."

Haru smiles, placing her empty cup down. "You…seem to know a lot of people."

"That's more of a statement," Akira says. "I don't follow."

Something akin to panic flashes across Haru's face so quickly that Akira wonders if he imagines it.

"When training with Makoto-san, we met a young woman named Ann."

"Ann was exercising with you two?" Akira questions with a grin.

"Well, no," Haru says with a giggle. "We met her afterward and decided to get something to eat."

"Something sweet and sugary, I imagine."

Haru's eyes widen. "How did you know?"

"Ann will never admit it, but if something isn't sugary, she won't eat it."

They both laugh.

"It…sounds like you know her well."

Before Akira can respond, he feels pressure in the depths of his soul. The sensation is painful like his insides are on fire. Lamia stirs, telling him to choose his following words carefully.

"We're good friends. Besides you and Ryuji, the blond loudmouth you've met, she is one of the first people I met since coming here."

As an afterthought, he adds, "Ryuji, Ann, and I got to know Niijima-senpai after she called me into the student council room to discuss rumors and adjust to the school."

"She called you?" Haru asks, curious.

Akira notes her surprise and stores it in his mind for later. At the moment, Lamia is still applying pressure. "She wanted to know if there was anything she could do to help. She offered study sessions after learning about the subjects Ann and Ryuji struggle in. I think she wants to help."

A bit of tension melts away from the older girl's shoulder. Akira wonders why but focuses more on the pleasant feelings he receives from Lamia's approval. This occurrence is common. With a persona of the matching arcana, they are hyper-vigilant of moments of great importance concerning interactions between him and his confidants.

"I see," Haru says. "Have I told you how strenuous Makoto-san's exercises are?"

Akira shakes his head, amused. "I imagine tough enough that she can take a pack of bears."

A burst of explosive laughter erupts from the girl's lips, and she quickly quells, covering her mouth. She stares at Akira in mock annoyance, mirth dancing in her eyes. When she composes herself, she explains each workout routine.

Akira observes intently as she demonstrates each exercise and the affected muscle as best she can. He feels his attention wane. She then rubs underneath her bicep, mentions some chest exercises, and rubs small circles above her abdomen.

Akira stares at her chest. When Haru finishes her explanation, she follows his gaze; then they stare at one another.

Shit, Akira thinks.

An uncomfortable silence fills the café. Akira feels his mind work at a million clicks, searching for a remedy for the situation. Unsurprisingly, Haru hugs her arms around her chest, and Akira mentally seethes at what Morgana would call a Ryuji moment.

Thankfully, his persona, Lamia, decides to have mercy on him. Akira gulps.

Go on, Lamia urges. Don't keep a lady waiting. After all, it only fits that you take action, given all her bravery.

Surprising Haru and himself, Akira moves to sit next to Haru. Haru scoots over to accommodate him. So close to the older girl, he wonders how he's resisted embracing her for so long, so he does. What Lamia says is right. It isn't very fair that Haru always musters the courage to initiate physical contact.

He pulls her close and adores how she curves perfectly to his body. Pulling back slightly, her delectable gaze fixed on him, he kisses her, slowly and gently, as they had done numerous times. Then, he becomes more aggressive. Contrary to her demure appearance, Haru embraces the affection vigorously, and the world seems to rescind to the back of their minds.

His mouth is warm, and his hands are frantic, reaching for everywhere on her body. They find a home on her breast, and he feels light-headed when she sighs into his lips. Images of her stomach and breasts urge Akira to kiss her more feverishly. His tongue licks her bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from Haru. Then, Haru does the same with her tongue, and before Akira knows it, they are in a deep lip lock, their mouths and tongues performing a rhythmical dance.

When he caresses her breast, she makes another sound that sends electricity down his body through his member. Suddenly, Haru isn't close enough, and, without breaking their kiss, he pulls her onto his lap, sighing at the softness of her thighs.

"I thought the Boss said no funny business downstairs!"

Haru hears a meow, but what Akira hears is the bane of his existence. They both jump, disengaging, and stare at the cat, coolly making its way down the stairs. The moment is over, the electricity evaporating into the air.

"Oh, it's just Morgana."

Haru is relieved, while Akira is outraged. He wants to skin that cat.

Haru nudges Akira out of his moodiness and kisses his cheek. Checking her phone, she frowns. "Hm, time went by so fast. It's almost midnight."

Well, no wonder the cat appears, Akira thinks. It's my bedtime.

He moves from the seat, still winded from their embrace. Haru stands as well, similarly flushed but happy. She refuses to leave before helping him tidy up the café, and the gesture warms Akira's chest. When nothing is left to clean, they stand by the entrance, each reluctant to bid goodbye.

"I could walk you back," Akira offers.

"No, need," Haru says. "I have a driver waiting for me. But…"

She reaches upward, grabbing a fistful of his hair and crashing her lips against his. The action throws Akira completely off-balance, and he can only watch dumbfounded as she exits, waving goodbye.

When she's gone, Akira glares at Morgana and says, "For your Ryuji moment just then, you're sleeping on the floor tonight."

"What! What did I do?" Morgana yells.

Akira wordlessly stomps past him. Morgana grumbles as he chases Akira up the stairs.