Persona 5: Daywatch

by Ganheim

Akira is banished to Tokyo by his own father. What begins as a near-suicidal quest for vengeance becomes a desperate attempt to turn the pieces of his life into an honest whole. Aided by clever strategists and opposed by supernatural puppeteers, one lost boy's quest for something greater clashes those who would think themselves gods over men, and demons within. AU elements.

116. August 29th, Beach Prep

Persona 5: Daywatch

Monday, 29 August 2016
Morning
Yongen, Leblanc

Dishes clattered as Akira rinsed off cups from the unexpected morning rush. Well, maybe not unexpected for the proprietor, but he might have just been practiced at masking surprise and chugging along at a brisk business pace. Before he even dried his hands, his phone buzzed from activity on the group chat.

It looked like Ann syncing with the class president for a shopping trip, [I have been putting this off since Friday, Makoto-san.]

[Sorry about Sunday, but I couldn't have gone with you on Friday. Student Council has too much to do to prepare for the class trip to Oahu,] Makoto sent back. [Speaking of that, Akira, you didn't respond to my email. You're one of the short list of students who haven't confirmed your passport is up to date.]

Akira raised an eyebrow. [Wait, I'm eligible? Shujin was making it out that I was still on probation.]

[You attended the mandatory session with the school counselor. And even though you WERE on academic probation due to the circumstances of your acceptance, placing ninth in the second years was more than enough to take away the last excuse even of the most hostile administrators.]

He leaned against the counter. [I'll have to check with Sojiro, but Mother completed the paperwork for my passport back when we were at Inaba.]

Futaba's ID winked in. [Really? I didn't think she was that involved. Why'd she get proactive then?]

[She was looking into sending me to boarding schools overseas. The old man didn't want to pay, and neither did she.]

Hifumi texted, [Even after the things I saw of my own mother, I have difficulty comprehending such an unloving mother.]

[You sure you can't come?] Ann sent. [If any of us could use a vacation, it's you.]

[I've been neglecting my shogi practice, and I want to take advantage of Papa's waking time today. I'm afraid Mother's revelations have left me rather shaken. Even if I remained confident in my own skills, in a contest against somebody of equal skill it may come down to luck.]

[I'm sure you'll give them a queen's best,] Akira sent. [You guys do your shopping, I was going to see if Yoshizawa had any suggestions about Futaba's exercise before I stop at Makoto's to cook.]

Makoto texted, [You want to come with, Futaba-chan?]

[Oh, look at that weather report. Heat warning. Guess I'll just have to stay in my nice, safe, comfy air conditioning,] Futaba replied.

[I didn't see a heat wave warning today,] Ann pointed out.

[There wasn't. It's just a warm day.] Makoto texted, [Drastic times call for drastic measures.]

[Your words are as spiky as your shoulder pads,] Futaba sent. [I'll make a note never to pat you on the shoulder.]

[An interesting consideration,] Yusuke texted. [I have had the same thoughts.]

[Don't encourage her,] Makoto riposted.

Yuuki joined the chat to send, [Wait, Senpai wears spiky clothes? That's kind of hot.]

[Stop ganging up on me! No, and that isn't even the point!]

Ryuji's ID lit up. [Hey, guys. What's all the fun about?]

[Girls' day. Don't interfere, Ryuji,] Ann sent.

Three dots danced next to Yuuki's ID, then disappeared. Akira wondered if he saw the possible argument brewing and decided discretion was the better part of valor.

Futaba texted, [Note: Ann is as cold to Ryuji as her Persona.]

[But for real,] Ryuji sent. [We gotta get together before the beach party. And might as well try out swimsuits so we all know everything fits.]

Three dots danced in front of Makoto's ID for a moment. [I don't think the front desk would let that many new people in.]

[My place is always open,] Akira sent. The only person he'd be nervous about seeing in his loft would be Hifumi, but she would be busy practicing today.

Yusuke sent, [If it helps any, Futaba-kun, even though I grew up in Tokyo I find it as perplexing as magnificent most days. It will take time for you to grow used to venturing out when you have not done so for many months.]

Sojiro paced from the register, his eyes scanning the coffee bean jars. "You got plans today, kiddo?"

"I was going to see a schoolmate about exercise routines." He slipped his phone away. "But since Prez reminded me, did you already get the school's paperwork for the second-year trip?"

"I had that signed and back a month ago," the restaurateur said. "Your probation never said you were forbidden from leaving the country, and you've been behaving lately so I don't see any reason you can't go with your classmates."

Akira nodded. "I guess I'm as ready for that as I'm going to be. And the customers are all gone, so I shouldn't keep Yoshizawa-san waiting."

Monday, 29 August 2016
Afternoon
Inokashira Park

The sun beat down on Akira and he pulled in a long breath, but the humid air gave little relief despite not having gone through intense exercise. Even having lived through weeks of a Tokyo summer, it felt wrong to the boy who grew up in the highlands. He only insisted in going through the paces of muscle-group-focused exercises for Futaba to have a better idea what they'd look like. He braced against a bench, stepping back with one leg to stretch out his calf, mimicking the gymnast.

"If you haven't used those muscles very often, you can't just stretch out after the session. Remember to massage them before sleep or they'll set you back tomorrow." Yoshizawa held her hands against the bench back and sank twice as low as him, as if stringy elastic bands took the place of her muscles. She gave a nervous giggle. "I mean, I'm sure you use lots of those muscles, Senpai, but if your neighbor's been a shut-in, she has a lot of catching up to do."

Akira nodded and tried not to notice the feel of perspiration rolling down his face. One thing he wouldn't be doing any time soon was taking Futaba out to exercise in the park. When she came up and relaxed, he slumped out of position and took out his phone to send some notes to group chat where Makoto and Ryuji could give feedback. Besides a reminder for himself, Makoto was the next most rounded person he knew for exercise and would be able to double-check the routine he picked up from the gymnast.

A deep gurgle rumbled from the gymnast. He could see the gymnast's face going red before she turned away. Her shoulders and back hunched as if she'd been caught streaking or something.

Akira slipped his phone away to turn his attention to her. He mimed putting on a cap. "Impressive, Yoshizawa-san! How about I introduce you to my hat for Chief of Catering, Russell Upsumgrub?"

Yoshizawa snorted, failed to catch her breathing, and clung to the bench as laughter rolled out of her. "Well, when you've got high activity you have high caloric needs! Keeping in shape is all about balance. I could really go for an extra large beef bowl with soft-boiled egg. With pork soup and salad on the side. And a large mapo tofu."

Akira felt more sweat roll down his neck. Each of those sounded like a whole meal. Still, the exercise-for-beginners session took much less time than he expected and consisted of a lot more telling him to tone down routines he already used. "Well, I was going to help Senpai make lunch for our beach trip tomorrow in exchange for some of her cooking technique. I wouldn't mind getting a head start on cooking tips."

Yoshizawa looked on him with wide eyes. "You even cook, Senpai? Wow, you're talented in everything." She stepped close – a little too close – those big eyes still boring into his.

Taking as subtle a step away as he could, Akira rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not talented. I had no choice but to learn to take care of myself. I'll bet it's the same with you, right? You busted your a… butt for… how many years?"

Yoshizawa beamed and stepped back into that 'just a little too close' zone. "Oh, my sister and I…" She swallowed, a wobble passing through her posture, but she forced a smile and stepped back into his airspace, "have been aiming for world championships since we were in grammar school. I don't even remember when we weren't in gymnastics."

He recognized the melancholy that settled over her when she mentioned her sister. A hollowness that stretched all the way to the bottom of her soul. When he felt the world closing in and nothing to look forward to he took a razor to his wrists. The best thing he could do is lead her somewhere else. "Talk about aiming for the top. That's a lot cooler than my life."

Yoshizawa shook her head. "Don't say that, Senpai! You're fearless, have great endurance, and I bet you can even make an amazing ramen. Just because something isn't outwardly spectacular doesn't mean it isn't important. Or tasty."

"You've got grub on the brain," Akira said with a chuckle. His mirth evaporated as they passed a trinket cart with a chain of hanging clips filled with what appeared to be Phantom Thief calling cards. Heart beat zooming, he paced closer and took one off to find only mild relief that it was a postcard in the style of a calling card, dominated by red and black and with cutout-style characters and bearing a spot-on duplicate of the top-hat with a flaming domino mask beneath. "I heard the Phantom Thief changed Medjed, but I didn't ever expect to see people trying to merchandise them."

The old woman at the cart squinted at him. "You don't think it's amazing that the Phantom Thief could even defeat no-good hackers? Why, they saved Japan!"

"Did they?" Yoshizawa said, one hand on her stomach, her lips pressed into a thin line and heavy thought in her eyes. "I can't say they've done anything wrong, especially with Kamoshida and Madarame. But isn't it unhealthy for society to be dependent on someone else to fix its problems? A lot of the companies that were worried should have spent that time and money fixing their computer security, not waiting for the Phantom Thief to try to take out one random bad actor out there. Who knows how many more bad computer hackers there are out there?"

"Computer cracker," Akira said, even though Futaba-kun wasn't near. "A person who does malicious acts with a computer is a computer cracker."

The cart vendor grumped at them. "Who cares? I almost lost my retirement investment. This cart hardly pays for itself and groceries."

As if on cue, Cute but Annoying's stomach growled again. She averted her gaze and crossed her arms. "S-sorry, Senpai."

He handed the postcard back to the vendor. "Well, we don't want to starve you. Let's get some food." No sooner had he turned back to the train station than his phone vibrated. "Excuse me a second."

[Sorry about the delay,] Ann sent. [Makoto hasn't updated her swimsuit since before Shujin so we kind of got sidetracked. Anyway, I found a couple options for Futaba-chan.] She sent a couple follow-up pictures of frilly, showy swimsuits.

Futaba wasted no time to shoot back, [Are you nuts? I have underwear that covers more than that!]

Akira texted, [What about a tankini? I'm not going to pretend to be an expert in female garments, but the girls' swimsuits at Inuri covered the whole torso.]

[That is also the style at Kosei,] Yusuke sent. [It is a fine arts academy with some of the most open minds in Tokyo, but some of its financiers are rather conservative.]

[You need to be adventurous, Futaba-chan!] Ann texted. [This is your big graduation into the world. Just think about how far you've come. A good swimsuit is just the graduation uniform!]

Akira tried to push aside the mental image of Hifumi in a competition-style swimsuit. Then the next image of her in more glamorous apparel. He shook his head. Futaba. He had to help Futaba. [Futaba should have a say in what she wears to the beach, Ann. What's wrong with just throwing on a shirt or tank top and calling it a day?]

Makoto jumped in to add, [New experiences ARE good for you.]

[C'mon. Futaba is super cute! You should strut your stuff. A tankini wouldn't suit you,] Ann sent.

Several seconds passed. After the delay reached an uncomfortable point, he texted, [Futaba, as long as you're okay coming out with us, you have my support.]

When Ann started arguing and Ryuji interjected to ask for photos of the girls in swimsuits, Akira rolled his eyes and slipped his phone into his pocket. "Sorry for the delay. So do you do any cooking? You said something about picking things up from your mother during tumbles."

Yoshizawa's cheeks flushed a little pink. "Oh, Mom is so busy going back and forth to take care of Grandma – basically the clan matriarch – that she can't come home much. Dad's a wonderful father, but he's hopeless in the kitchen, so we kind of had to learn it for ourselves." Her gaze fell and her shoulders drooped. "I'm no good, myself. My sister was the one who could effortlessly take squid, soy, and whip up a mirin marinade." She let out a long hum. "Never overcooked ikayaki."

Akira recognized the melancholy that swam in her eyes when she mentioned her sister, but asking about it would just push her into a depressive spiral. That would be the worst way to repay her for a day of instruction. "How do you keep it from getting rubbery?"

"Oh, just a little salt in the marinade and keeping back on the heat," Yoshizawa said, her back straightening as hunger and nostalgia wrapped her arms around herself. "The reason some restaurants serve rubbery squid is either it being frozen too slow too many times, or trying to cook it too fast at too high a temperature."

He fell in step beside her as she chatted with energy and detail about all the different sauces and pastes her family made for squid or fish. Despite her claims of being a bad beginner, she knew way too much about how to make marinades for an amateur. He took notes as they made their way to the subway station.

Monday, 29 August 2016
Late Afternoon
Yongen, Leblanc

The bell tinkled above and Morgana poked his head out from the booth seat next to the artist. The girls were late, but instead of the shopping beauties, Joker trotted in with his leather satchel on one shoulder and locks of his dark hair dried in plastered-to-the-skin positions. No wonder he took so long with Yoshizawa. "Joker! Looks like we may have the team together today after all."

He gave a small wave. "Didn't expect to see you guys here."

Oracle hopped up from her perch next to the runner. "Heya! You see Ann or Makoto?"

"No, I just stopped in to shower. Yoshizawa and I got to talking about parkour and safe tumbles. Good news though: I've got an exercise routine for you." The runner, having gotten the email earlier, gave Joker a thumb up. He gave a nod back. "I just want to check with Makoto first." He paused by the table to offer a fist and got a bump from the hacker and runner. "So you gettin' out easier?"

Her brown eyes flicked down. "Dunno."

Fox, as if sensing she needed an escape, straightened his history book in front of him. "Even the clearest-sighted of us can not change long-formed habits overnight."

Morgana popped up on the table to give himself some extra height. "True, but I think we can all agree that Oracle's made some impressive progress. From a shut-in to a Phantom Thief rescuing hearts with the best of us!"

Her head dipped down. "Aw, you'll make me blush." She lunged over the table to grab him by the whiskers.

Joker leaned to grab her arm. "Hey, no animal abuse."

Reaper burst out laughing. "Right! No beatin' up the team cat!"

Nerves short from mediating fights all day, the team leader scratched her and bared his teeth at the runner. "How many times do I have to say it? I. Am. Not. A. Cat!"

Boss stepped out of the kitchen. "How many times do I have to tell you kids not to play with the cat in the restaurant? I'm trying to keep a clean place."

Oracle pulled her hand out of the transfer student's grip. "You smoke indoors. Your argument is invalid."

Joker chuckled and stepped back. "Yeah, and you let Ryuji in."

Oracle cackled.

Reaper thumped a hand on his sports magazine. "Dude! I shower more'n you do! An' what the eff is keepin the girls? 'Koto said she was on the way like, ten minutes ago."

As if summoned, the door swung open with the tinkling of the bell. Lady Ann and Rider stepped in, both bearing shopping bags, the latter giving a shallow bow. "Apologies for the lateness. I haven't actually gone swimming since grammar school and we got sidetracked checking out multiple items for each of us."

With a swiftness borne of Phantom Thievery, Joker snatched up the team leader by the arms. "Each of us? You even got one for Fearless Leader?"

With the student holding him under the arms, Morgana could only glare up at them. "I will bite you."

As Joker put the team leader down, Lady Ann rolled her eyes. "No. Swimsuits for us girls! We gotta look our best when we hit the beach." She winked at the hacker.

Oracle recoiled as if asked to charge bears covered in honey. "Swimsuit? S-so you did…"

When she glanced at Joker, he shrugged. "I backed you up when she wanted to get you something racy, but I agree with Makoto. You gotta try new things." He held up a hand. "Gimme one minute. I was practicing tumbling techniques with Yoshizawa-san and wanna get a shower in. You can try stuff out in the loft after I grab some clean clothes." Lady Ann nodded and he jogged upstairs, rummaged a bit, then descended with a clean change folded in one hand. "You have a chance to read the email I sent about Yoshizawa's exercise ideas?"

Rider shifted both bags to one hand. "We've been shopping. I'll respond tonight after I've had a chance to look them up."

Joker gave that palm-out salute, and stepped out.

Rider rolled her eyes and led the way up.

Lady Ann stopped at the booth. "C'mon, time to try it on. You can't hit the beach if you're not ready to strut your stuff. Our beach party is tomorrow, after all. You didn't have one, right?"

Oracle shrank into her perch. "No, but—"

Lady Ann flashed a brilliant, heart-stopping smile. "Then it's time to try it on!" When the hacker wouldn't come out of her hunched perch, that smile dimmed but wouldn't go away. "C'mon, when Akira backed you up and said not to get anything flashy, me and Makoto went right back to the racks to pick out a whole new lineup." She held out a hand. "Now come on and let me show you how much a woman you are."

A long beat passed before Oracle took that hand, then unfolded from her gargoyle-esque perch. Oracle and Lady Ann strode up, but Nightrider paused at the base of the stairs to glare at Reaper. "You know what'll happen if you try and look, right?"

Despite not needing to, Reaper stood up and looked like he couldn't decide what kind of salute to give. "Y-yes ma'am."

She ascended, leaving the men to return to studies and yakking. Up until they heard the faintest trace of the girls. Morgana's sensitive ears picked up shuffling and the faint scuffle of feet. If somebody told him ninjas were battling in the loft, he would've believed it. Just to make sure everything was okay, Morgana hopped down and paced closer.

Once he got to the cafe restroom door, he heard Rider say, "Wow, the fit is perfect," Rider said. "You are equal parts amazing and scary, Ann."

As Morgana crept towards the cafe restroom door to better listen in, Lady Ann's bold smile shone through her tone, "Fashion's in my blood!"

Oracle squawked. "How can I go outside in this? These barely cover anything!"

"Pshaw!" Lady Ann replied, undeterred. "Swimsuits are like that. You can't strut your stuff in a poofy dress."

Rider cleared her throat. A distant part of Morgana noticed Reaper leaning from his seat at the booth table to listen in.

"All right! Maybe you can," Lady Ann said, exasperated. "But beaches are for swimsuits. Here, this off-the-shoulder deal will be more stylish than the tankini Akira recommended."

More shuffling, with a few footfalls that hinted at less than cooperative movements.

Reaper's face took on a pink coloration. "What are they doin' up there?"

Some more shuffling in the loft, but with lighter footsteps. "Fine. I've got to hand it to you, Ann, it's good," Oracle said, though she seemed more pleased than her begrudging words alone indicated.

Fox glanced up from his history book. "What would she even be using to examine herself? Akira does not have a mirror." He missed the door swinging open. "What kind of swimsuit would meet with Futaba's approval? Hm. That could almost be a painting all its own. What do you think Makoto-san would say?"

Morgana heard more footsteps, then Lady Ann's hushed voice, "Wanna show off yours, Senpai?"

Joker entered and came to a stop next to the booth, wearing faded green slacks and a sky blue long-sleeved shirt. "I'm pretty sure she'd give a very definite answer." His grey eyes locked onto the runner and he brandished a smirk perfect for his metaverse alter ego. "Go for it, Ryuji!"

Reaper bit down on the toothpick in his mouth. "Eff no!"

Morgana scoffed, but abandoned the effort to listen in now that there were three others who might call him out. He padded back to the booth and hopped up to the seat by Reaper, having to content himself with daydreams of the lovely Lady Ann.

Boss trotted closer, a dish towel slung over one shoulder. "So Futaba's really going to the beach, huh?" He shook his head, a distant quality to his gaze. "I never thought I'd see the day."

Joker shrugged. "Maybe she just needed the right opportunity."

Reaper held up his glass, ice clinking inside. "For real! She's always lookin' for a way to show peeps up."

Boss took the towel in both hands. "Well, if she's really ready, I hope you guys can help her make great memories."

Monday, 29 August 2016
Early Evening
Yongen, Leblanc

Makoto trotted down, her swimsuit in the paper shopping bag on her arm. Akira sat in the booth, tapping at an online shogi game on his phone. "Thanks for letting us use your loft, Akira-kun. The other two give up?"

Akira glanced up from his phone game. "Ryuji bailed when he finished his magazine. Said he'd be out running Inokashira. Yusuke finished one of his sketches and said he'd spend the rest of the day painting." He paused to submit his next move, but left most of his attention on her, which was unusual when he had a strategy game open. "Hey, uh… I mentioned that I was out this morning with Yoshizawa?"

"For exercises for Futaba-chan," Makoto confirmed. "I said I'd look them up tonight. I need some time to socialize and unwind, too." She heard the other girls descend the stairs, but hang back as if unwilling to walk into the conversation between herself and Akira.

His shoulders slouched a bit. "I know, but I also talked to her about cooking. I already asked Boss about making curry, but he did his last batch on Saturday and there's still leftover today. Were you going to do anything for the beach trip tomorrow?"

Futaba chimed in, "Just pack some cup ramen and be done with it. I eat it every day."

Akira pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's way too much sodium, Futaba-kun."

"Maybe quinoa salad?" Ann said, stepping in and leaning against the wall next to the booth. "That's big with models."

He straightened his glasses, his eyes unfocused in that sorting-and-filing way Makoto recognized from herself and Big Sis. "Done." His eyes locked back onto the class president. "Would you mind if I came with and helped you fix the beach party's lunch? We didn't even get to finish our talk on stir-fry thanks to the cops taking away Hifumi's mother."

Pursing her lips, Makoto crossed her arms. He may not have any advanced knowledge on sauce or harmonizing flavors, but he had a solid grasp on fundamental food prep. "Sure." She made a quarter turn to glance at the hacker and vivacious blonde. "Interested?"

Ann brushed a pigtail off her shoulder. "Thanks, but Futaba and I were going to play Star Soldier."

With no idea what that was, Makoto nodded and gestured the transfer student to the door. He nodded, retrieved his leather satchel and the team leader before stepping outside with her, where they waved and departed from the younger girls.

Akira came to a stop a pace away from her on the Yongen-Jaya platform. "Think Futaba-kun's really ready for the beach?"

She let out an amused huff. She would never have imagined his protective side when she stalked him in Shibuya. "Think Ryuji will control himself?"

Akira ran his hand up his face and rubbed an eye. "Ugh. Maybe we can change all our plans without telling him?"

Makoto stepped closer to knock him with her elbow. "He's brash, but he's got a point. I tended to study all summer long," she glanced around and leaned closer to whisper, "but we did spend almost all summer in the Metaverse." She straightened and continued at a normal volume, "He seems to know what he's talking about with a party to help us transition back to school." Her smile faded as she thought back to their latest unanswered questions regarding the Metaverse. Morgana still didn't know who he was, and Togo-san didn't mention him, but she'd been trying to dig up information on the Metaverse and the lack of answers unnerved her. "I am still a little concerned about Black Mask. Who are they?"

"He," Akira said, his face impassive but a dead certainty in his voice. "I think Igor would have goaded me differently if there were a bunch of people. He thinks there's only one."

Makoto pursed her lips. "I did some reading. Futaba's mother isn't in any of Akechi's mental shutdown lists, but he's also specified that they aren't exhaustive. I know her death matched the descriptions of mental shutdowns, but it was several months before the mental shutdown of an NTT manager. If Black Mask is really just one person…"

Morgana popped his head out of the leather bag as the train to Shibuya pulled in. "Black Mask could have been practicing for nearly two years. He could be powerful enough to take down palaces in less than a week."

They separated into the train, but the conversation stimulated her conjecture so she took to the group chat. As expected, Ryuji was logged off and would probably remain so for hours if he just started running at Inokashira Park, and the same would be the case for the cloud-headed artist, but Ann and Mishima-kun's ID's lit up with Akira's. Makoto summarized the conversation to the group and her difficulty finding anything on cognitive psience even despite checking obscure shops in Jinbocho for medical journals. [I just wish we knew for sure what the Black Mask is doing. Why he's doing it.]

[Money's my guess,] Akira texted. [Assassins for hire are a thing in the real world.]

[But why wouldn't he have a pattern?] Mishima texted. [Small-time managers at Duck Burger, hedge fund managers. And then there's the psychotic breakdowns of corrupt businessmen.]

Futaba joined the chat to ask about psychotic breakdowns, but at that point the train pulled into Shibuya Station so Makoto disembarked to take the line to Chiyoda-ku and home. She didn't spot Akira, but foot traffic was up and he knew the way.

By the time Makoto found an empty overhead strap and brought back up the group chat, the conversation split between arguing over who had a psychotic breakdown and what the cognitive breakdowns could be about. As much to get the conversation back on track as to sate the curiosity which brought her to start the chat, Makoto sent, [But who could Black Mask be?]

Ann texted, [Do you think he's like us? Using the Metaverse for some ideological end?]

[What if it's the poisoned fruits of Mom's research? I've been looking up what happened to Mom's research and trying to find out what happened to her since Sojiro took me in,] Futaba sent. [The official story they told me was she burned her research, but she was obsessed with unlocking human cognition. She'd never do that.]

[She didn't,] Akira replied. [After she died, my old bastard continued research as if she was just out sick. They didn't even miss a day.]

Mishima of all people followed up, [Then it's impossible it was deleted. He would have to rebuild everything Futaba's mother did if it was destroyed. He would have to have it readily on-hand to continue without interruption. Akira, are you sure he never said anything about the data? Or where the servers were stored?]

[He mentioned transfer to an air-gap, but that just sounds like gibberish,] Akira sent.

[Motherless goat of all motherless goats!] Futaba sent.

Ann texted, [Did you just have a stroke?]

[Air gapping means a server that is physically disconnected from the internet,] Mishima explained. [If she's a computer cracker, I have a feeling it has to do with that.]

[Oh!] Ann replied. [Like that time Shiho made us infiltrate that Saeder-Krupp building because your decker couldn't access a server from the outside.]

[Precisely.]

[Now I'm confused,] Makoto sent.

[Shiho ran Shadowrun over skype,] Ann texted. [It's a role-playing game.]

[Let me guess,] Akira sent. [You played a mage who blew things up.]

[Street Sam, actually. Swords and pistols. Shiho would never let me get my hands on a mono-wire whip, no matter how much I wanted one.]

[That explains so many things.]

The train slid to a stop at Chiyoda-ku and Makoto slipped out. It seemed obvious that none of the Phantom Thieves had enough information to make an informed guess about Black Mask. She met Akira at the top of the stairs, and they ascended into what was fast becoming a sweltering summer evening. "Before we head to my flat, I was thinking of stopping by the grocer's for ingredients. Do you have any ideas what you want tomorrow?"

He blew out a breath. "Hifumi's testifying on her mother's behalf."

"I mean food." Makoto crossed her arms. If the transfer student gave any indication what 'lovestruck' was like, she counted herself fortunate never to have come anywhere near it.

Morgana poked his head out of the transfer student's leather satchel. "And you're coming with. Even Hifumi wants you to relax once in a while, so consider this an order from both of us!"

"Oh, right." He scratched his neck. "Well, Ann did mention quinoa salad. We made that regularly at Amagi Inn."

Monday, 29 August 2016
Evening
Chiyoda-ku, Makoto's Home

Makoto poured a tall pot of boiled soba noodles into a colander in the sink. The splashing brought the conversation about stir-fry sauce to a pause. Steam wafted up and she indulged in the fantasy of an alchemist transmuting some common metal into gold.

"What about an acid flavor?" Akira swept sliced black olives into a wide steel bowl for the Amagi-style quinoa. "That's not even one of the five tastes, is it?"

"Acids are things like vinegar or lemon juice, it brightens the sauce." Makoto bit down on her amazement at his speed as he chopped a carrot. She set the tall pot back on the burner and turned the gas down. "It's hard to believe that you think you're a beginner when you can do that. The college students at Ore no Beko aren't that fast."

Akira shrugged as if dicing a third of a kilogram of carrots was easy as walking. "This is the stuff the head chefs felt was beneath them at Amagi Inn, even the commis chef was eager to push it on me. But the sauces were the domain of the sous chefs. I heard at bigger kitchens, they're done by a saucier who's only outranked by the head chef."

"I've never known anyone who worked in a kitchen, so I couldn't say." Leaving the colander in the sink, Makoto slid the tall pot aside, put one of Mother's cast-iron skillets on and tossed in sesame seeds. "But sauces are part of lots of regular food. No reason not to make them part of your personal repertoire."

She could feel his eyes on the back of her neck before Akira set down the knife and side-stepped to watch her push sesame around the skillet. "What are you putting plain sesame over the gas for? You said you were making a cold sesame soba."

She chased the sesame around, waiting for some to start taking on a golden color. "Toasting nuts or seeds greatly enhances the flavor." Makoto glanced at the array of vegetables still arranged in neat piles around his cutting board for later chopping. "Are you sure Amagi Inn put that many vegetables in their quinoa?"

He pulled a cherry tomato onto the cutting board, sliced it in half, then tossed the halves in the big steel bowl with the other pre-cut things and reached for another. "Yeah. Isn't that pretty typical for salads?"

"Well, some kinds of salad, yes. But quinoa is traditionally plain." Makoto reversed her direction of stirring, still waiting for the scent of sesame seeds to pop. "It's not exactly anybody's proud specialty, there's so little to personalize about it."

Akira hummed, halving cherry tomatoes with swift, rote motions. "You mentioned cooking with your mother. She have a 'proud specialty'?"

The corners of her lips turned down. She had to dig through her memory to remember mother's stir fry. "She'd make velveted beef or lamb."

He squinted in thought. "Velvet? Like the fabric?"

Chuckling, Makoto reversed stir direction, splitting her attention between the seeds and him. "No. Velveting is marinating thin-sliced meat in a corn starch slurry. Helps it maintain moisture and soften that much more when you cook stir-fry. It's fairly simple but makes for a wonderful texture, so she did it a lot before she died."

A frown slipped over her face and she wondered why she let that slip.

He stopped slicing. "You think there's something wrong because you don't miss her?"

She turned on him to snarl. Why couldn't he be his regular self with weird presumptions that were all off-base? Why'd he have to see through this? At least Ryuji didn't push where he wasn't wanted!

The scent of over-toasted sesame seeds wafted into her nostrils. Makoto yanked the skillet off the gas and applied her anger to stirring, knocking some seeds onto the hot range. She flicked the burner off, still stirring to keep any of the over-toasted seeds from getting all the way to burnt.

"I miss mine, sometimes."

Her stirring slowed and she looked up at his grey eyes and their slight magnification under his glasses. "But… your mother was all over Japan. She didn't respect your father."

"Neither did I. We had that in common." He set the knife down and shrugged. "You only mentioned positive memories of either parent, but the nostalgia is always for your father. I just…"

There was a waver in his eyes that made the pinch in her stomach intensify. As if he said 'doesn't everyone but me have things perfect?' Makoto took in a brief breath. "Things weren't perfect with us. I think there's always a little bit of clash between parents and children. Mom was always on my and Big Sis' case to get our homework done early."

Akira made a face as if he bit a lemon. "Even my old bastard did that."

"She didn't like it when I played dress-up with Dad's hat." Makoto paused for a breath, but the memory springing to mind cut through her annoyance and it took all her effort to smother the chuckle. "God, I almost forgot about that. She was so supportive of Big Sis aiming for law school and me going my own way in life." The corners of her mouth tugged down. "I can't remember it very well, but Dad spent a lot of time at work. Maybe it was fear for his safety, one of those 'one cop is enough for the family', like Dragon's Shadow 2." She gave a last stir in the hot pan, then reached toward the far counter. "Mirin."

"This is some top shelf stuff." He handed her the bottle of rice wine. "Are things okay with you and your sister?"

Makoto stirred, then reached towards the bowl of seaweed she shredded before yielding the cutting board to him. He passed it and she sprinkled in the thin strips. "I'm more scared on her behalf. Things were changing before summer break. She was really suspicious and I'm pretty sure opened an investigation into the Phantom Thieves, but… after she started cutting deals at work, she started coming home more. She stopped describing work like riding a tiger she could never get off, or a gamble where she always had to raise the bet."

Morgana jumped up to a chair in the adjoining dining room. "That sounds good."

Makoto stirred. "She was finally making a difference and could see it," she felt a sad smile curl at her lips, made all the worse that it didn't last. "But as the summer went on… more cases were transferred to the Kaneshiro unit. Away from her. She acted more short when she was talking to someone over the phone. Started staying at work longer. Pushed me for more names. Now she's back to staying at work more than she's home."

Akira stepped closer but stopped short of reaching out for her. "She hasn't… done anything to you?"

He could be so confusing sometimes. Needling just to see her pissed off one minute, and ready to intercede with her last remaining family the next. "No, Akira. I do have the group chat, if something happens I can easily put a call out to everyone. It's just… frustrating to think we were making some progress earlier and that she's backslid." Makoto turned back to her sesame sauce.

Morgana popped up, paws on the back of the chair to elevate his eye level. "Your sister isn't a Palace Ruler yet. She may have a distorted desire within, but it hasn't become an all-consuming anchor. We haven't been able to affect most people with Shadows in Mementos because we don't know enough or have access to the person. You do."

Akira shrugged, looking more helpless than most times. "We'll be all about the city until after the beach party—"

"We are not canceling Lady Ann's beach party," Morgana said, those bright blue eyes locking onto the transfer student. "And you are not sneaking into the Metaverse. Hawk isn't even going to be available until after school starts again, or we would have checked out that lead you found on Matsushita Hiroyuki."

Makoto forced a smile, drawing on her practice as student council president. "He's right, Akira. Big Sis will still be here tomorrow. I suppose what makes it hurt so much is seeing her drown herself in work to try to fill the hole in her heart, just like I was doing before accepting Johanna." She reached for a salt grinder. "Now finish those tomatoes and I'll go over how velveting works."

AN: English is super common in the programming world, and why would I give up the chance to quote Firefly's Wash? I can use the excuse that it hit many meme circles.

We're almost at the big beach scene, but the chapter was getting extremely long and I didn't want it feeling unwieldy. Tell me what you think of the events and pacing.