Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I couldn't resist releasing a Persona chapter involving Joker on April Fool's – that kind of timing only comes around once a year.

Starting a new story is always a crapshoot. Lots of things can affect engagement, from the timing to the fandom to just whether the right stuff is there to invite people back. I'm glad to see that there haven't been any problems with this project. I'm humbled and deeply grateful to see so much interaction with this little idea of mine, and I thank everyone who read the first chapter, who faved or left kudos or reviewed it, and all my past readers who came back for more. You're all amazing, and I'll be aiming to keep the bar nice and high so Casino Advantage retains its place as the best Persona 5 story out there.

Onto something a bit more serious for a moment, dear readers. Please look at the rating I posted this story under. I bring it to your attention because I'll be reaching the limits of that rating, if not pushing them, in this work. Not right now, but not far off and more than once, and rather than mention it every single time and spoil the surprise, I'm just going to say now that if you're squeamish, if Chidori's arc in Change of Engagement was a step too far, if the depths SEES went through were too much, then back away now because Casino Advantage will be even more of a ride. I have the chance to exercise what I learned there, and I'll absolutely be taking it to the edge. If you continue reading, then you'll do so at your own discretion.

Still here? Excellent. With that out of the way, let's do some review replies and get on with the show.

Myalko: Glad to see you! We're off to the races with this one, and I look forward to seeing what you think of the story as it unfolds. Glad to see the opening wasn't too much, and of course we have to see our leading lady. Cheers to you, and enjoy!

Pan-san the Panda: Hell yes indeed. Welcome to the madhouse.

UltimateCCC: With a name like that, it's just too good a lead-in to waste, you know? Thanks for the comment, and enjoy.

codywhite162: Welcome back! You need wait no longer.

Shadowbolt64: Good to see you again. I get the distance in time, and I look forward to hearing how this little tale compares to my other works. I'll do what I can to make it a ride to remember.

The Longshot

Akira didn't dream of the student council president that night.

Just before the bell rang, she packed her books and looked at him. She was suspicious, clearly knowing he'd pulled that stunt for some reason, but she hadn't figured what it was or for whose benefit. He smiled politely at her and retained his silence even as she got up. When she was passing him, Akira leaned back and said quietly, "Enjoy the rest of your day, Senpai."

All she had the time to reply with was, "You too," in that soft, smooth voice.

Then she was gone. Akira got up a few minutes later and left the library, using the crowds to cover his exit from anyone who wanted words with him over his seating choices. No one did, but even as he walked he heard the whispers and murmurs, felt the pointing fingers and appreciated just how thoroughly his name had been spread around.

Perhaps he'd encounter the enterprising individual who had taken such liberties with his good standing. He'd love the chance to have a talk with them about that.

He left the school and his return trip was lengthened by the subways being down because of some train incident somewhere. Too many people spouted rumors and theories to find out what was actually going on, so he spent a good part of the day expanding his knowledge of the walkway system and bus lines of Tokyo in getting back to Leblanc.

The empty cafe greeted him warmly. Sakura-san, on the other hand, groused once Akira walked through the door. "You didn't mouth off to anyone after I left, did you? One shot's all they need to send you packing, you know."

Akira smiled back. "No mouthing off or making enemies, Sakura-san. I followed your advice. I went to the library and didn't say much of anything to anyone."

The old man stared at him, almost certainly not believing it, before he grunted and cleaned up a few dishes.

Akira went upstairs to continue cleaning his living space. He felt like he was making some actual progress by the time he went to bed.

Much as he wanted her to, however, the student council president didn't show up in his dreams. Neither did Igor and those kids in the prison, so it should have been a restful night.

Except he dreamt of home and everyone back there. Not the memories of the formative years of his life, nor the good and happy times he'd experienced or the trips he'd gone on. No, he dreamt of the aftermath of his trial, that day in the courtroom when the verdict was decided on and he was sentenced.

Normally he was only aware that he was dreaming as he was about to wake, as though rising to the surface meant bumping into cognisance on the way up. This time he realized he was stuck in a dream and couldn't get out of it. It was worse than being in the Velvet Room because unlike there, these voices and people were tied to him personally. All this stuff actually happened.

"You broke the law, Akira. The punishment fits the crime."

I wasn't wrong.

"How could you? He's clearly important; why did you attack him?!"

I wasn't wrong.

"Please, sweetie, just admit to it. Maybe they're mistaken about a few things, but saying you did it makes this all go away!"

I wasn't wrong.

"Akira, I… how did this happen?"

I–

Akira jerked awake. Familiar ceiling, familiar uncomfortable bed, familiar night sweats. He flopped back, shifting the milk crates under his mattress and getting jabbed in the back for his efforts. He barely felt it.

Home. His friends. His family. The trial and its aftermath. He'd been trying to keep all that stuff down, but the memories – the caustic, bubbling anger – were still there. No matter the distance and time, it was still real. He was here, suffering for doing the right thing. "I wasn't wrong," he insisted to the attic.

Its unbroken silence was the reply. Uncaring indifference. That was almost better than what everyone else was giving him – at least the attic hadn't spit in his face yet.

This was his first day at school. No time to grumble. He got dressed, threw a dry breakfast together from the supplies he'd bought when he'd been out shopping before, and went downstairs.

"You're up," Sakura-san grunted before going back to work.

"Yeah, I had a great sleep. Good morning."

No answer.

Akira tried again with, "The weather's supposed to be bad today. Would you have a spare–" He stopped. This was Sakura-san he was speaking to, he recalled.

"A spare what?"

"Never mind, I'll deal with it myself."

"It looks like it's gonna rain. You want a lift?"

"You're busy here, aren't you?"

"A proper guardian has to help you out some of the time."

Has to. Out of obligation. Akira grit his teeth, but his answer was interrupted by the door opening. Several customers entered, clamoring about Leblanc's famous curry. "Seems like this'll need your attention for a while," he said instead, heading for the door. "I wouldn't want to get in the way."

"Hey, you want breakfast?"

Akira replied over his shoulder, "I'll eat on the road." Then he was outside and around the corner. He rubbed his face. His facade was cracking. The dream that reminded him of home, the constant pressure of his situation, the pretense and the lies, it was grinding him down. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. There were supposed to be people on his side, those willing to hear him out. Laws were supposed to be fair and justice was supposed to prevail in the end. Your friends and family were supposed to have your back no matter what came at you. But this…

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Akira bit into the anger, swallowed it with bile and tried to keep it down. It got stuck low in his throat and wouldn't go any further, seeping slow-burning fury into his bloodstream. He moved faster and ended up bringing his heels down harder as he walked.

He left the alley, joined the crowds and moved through the increasingly familiar train system toward Shujin, riding cars and transferring at stations and being jostled and squeezed as he went. Even the main terminal wasn't big enough to accommodate everyone. When he was out of the train station by a few hundred yards, however, the clouds burst open. Akira ran and made it to shelter as soon as the rain really started coming down, lucky to be close enough to a storefront canopy to not get too wet.

Amidst day workers and other students, Akira waited for the rain to stop and made a note of the things he'd need to buy on his way home, including an umbrella. He was eating his breakfast bar when he heard an odd sound approaching, a light, shimmery something that pulsed like wing beats. He turned and tracked where it was coming fr–

And almost swallowed his food whole.

It was a butterfly. Akira knew flying animals from back home, birds and insects and lots of other things, but this was like no winged creature he'd ever seen. Blue and silvery with a translucent wingspan the length of his hand, it fluttered along between people and dipped and ducked like it had no fear of collision. No one else under that canopy noticed it, busily looking at their phones or brushing the water off their clothes. The butterfly passed Akira entirely, heading out into the weather.

He expected that the rain would waterlog its wings and send it searching for shelter like everyone else, but off it went without pause or change of course as though it were exempt from basic natural laws.

Akira stared until someone bumped into another person right by him. "Watch it!" was said just as he was crashed into, pulling his attention away.

When he looked back up on reflex, the butterfly was gone.

First the voice at the crosswalk, then the dream of Igor and the twins, and now this. Was he going crazy? Had he really seen that?

"Sorry," a girl said to him in accented Japanese.

Akira turned to the speaker. She was a blonde around his age, and she was staring knives at the salaryman who had shoved past her. Her school uniform was a mirror of his own, the pins indicating that she was in the same year as him. She'd taken some liberties with the school dress code, though, wearing a leather hooded letterman jacket – decked out with the numbers and insignia of some baseball team he didn't recognize – over the usual top, and she wore sharp red leggings under the regulation skirt. Dress code compliant or not, it definitely caught the eye on first glance, even if she didn't hold his attention like the brunette yesterday had. What additions this one had made to her uniform, however, couldn't conceal a lush hourglass figure underneath, and he wondered if the school even had normal uniforms in her dimensions – Japanese girls weren't built like this.

Akira nodded and said softly, "No problem." He kept his eyes respectful. "You're going to Shujin too?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I guess you are wearing the same uniform. I haven't seen you before."

"I just transferred in. I'm Kurusu Akira."

"Takamaki Ann. Nice to meet you. I'd heard there was a new guy in our year. You wouldn't believe what people are saying about him – the nicest thing I've heard yet is that he's a thug with a record for beating girls and taking lewd snapshots." She leaned in to look a little closer, focusing on his glasses in particular. "That has to be someone else," she decided after a moment or two. "You don't look like you'd ever hit a girl. Actually, and don't take this personally, you look pretty harmless."

He chuckled weakly and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, harmless. That's me." Just another docile herbivore, nothing to see here. "That's actually my middle name."

"Really?"

"No, but it was a nice thought."

The joke sank, but she smiled anyway. It was a pretty smile, but strained. Akira idly wondered if a bad joke could hit that hard.

The rain continued, but as the silence stretched long and thin between him and Takamaki, a car rolled up. The window dropped and she stiffened. The driver, an adult wearing a workplace casual top with a Shujin pin on the breast, smiled and asked, "Need a lift the rest of the way?"

Akira looked around. There weren't any other students near them who might be the addressees, and Takamaki didn't move. Shrugging, Akira stepped forward.

He was rebuffed with, "Not you, pal. I don't swing that way." The guy laughed easily, but the tone had more than a hint of a sneer in it.

Akira backed up. Takamaki silently moved around the car. That same strained look was on her face. Then she was in and the car moved on.

Akira watched it leave. What a scene to make in front of people, a teacher picking up one particular student like he knew she was there. Already there was gossip starting around him. Who was that? Was there an arrangement between them? Maybe she'd trapped him! She hadn't seemed too inclined to go with him, but got in the car anyway. Akira played the exchange through his mind and couldn't find anything openly coercive in it, but there was something in the subtext: the tone of someone who had something over another and therefore didn't need to be overt in their demands. Akira had heard that more than once with his case worker and parole officer.

If this was representative of what to expect, then Shujin was looking like an even more stellar place to be than before.

A new student ran up, cursing out the driver of the car as it turned a corner at the far end of the street. "Prick," the guy muttered, raking back bleached-blond hair and throwing water droplets about as the rain tapered off. "Pullin' a stunt like that with Takamaki in front of everyone." The guy turned and stared at Akira. "Who're you?"

Akira assumed a meek, surprised expression. "Me? I was on my way to school and ended up under the same canopy as her. Then this guy drove up and invited her into his car."

The student spat into the street. "Yeah, that sounds right. Perverted asshole, thinks the school's his own damn castle or somethin'."

"He's a teacher at Shujin Academy, isn't he?"

"Yeah. Kamoshida Suguru, the star athletics teacher, Olympic gold medalist and a two-faced snake."

"Sounds like there's some bad blood between you two."

"And what's it to you if there is?"

Akira looked aside. "Nothing. It's none of my business."

The student muttered, "Damn right it isn't," and started walking. He had an odd gait, his right leg bowed out a little and his foot pointing off-center. It didn't seem to stop him from moving, however. Akira stepped in behind him and kept quiet. After about a block, the guy asked, "You followin' me for a reason?"

"We're going to the same place, and if you know a faster way there then it would be better if I learned it from you instead of getting lost."

The student grunted.

"I'm Kurusu Akira."

It took a few moments, but the reply came out in a grumble. "Sakamoto Ryuji. Wait, you the new guy? The transfer student?"

"I'm a transfer student, yeah."

"There's only one who fits the bill right now, and his rep's bein' trashed all over school. What'd you do to piss everyone off?"

"Nothing. Someone spread rumors about me. It was like that when I got there yesterday."

"I heard you asked the student council prez out, too."

"Oh. Well, that's not completely right. I just sat at the same table and studied with her."

"You know her?"

"Never met her before yesterday. We didn't even talk."

"And you decided to sit across from her and study, where everyone could see you? Without askin'?"

"Yep." Akira covered his mouth, but it didn't entirely conceal his smile.

Sakamoto laughed. "You got stones, new guy. C'mon, let's take a shortcut."

Akira followed him down an alley, but when they turned the corner and saw a castle – an actual castle complete with walls and fortifications and spired towers against a stormy sky – he figured that the butterfly was now the least insane thing he'd seen today.

"I've gone crazy," he established aloud as he looked up. "Somehow I've had a mental break and this is all a hallucination."

"If it is, then it's one we're sharin'," Sakamoto said, looking around in stunned amazement. "Where in hell are we? Where's the school? It's supposed to be right here, isn't it?"

"Maybe this is a different world, like out of an isekai manga."

"Dude, are you serious?"

"A lot of weird things've happened to me since I got here. Things that never happened before. A different world would explain a lot of this."

"Most of those stories also involve someone dyin' to get there in the first place. I ain't dead yet." Sakamoto looked around. "Hmph, no way out, either. C'mon, let's go inside. Maybe they can help."

Akira went forward with Ryuji. The castle's portcullis was open and there weren't any defenses on the battlements, no murder holes in the walls. What caught Akira's eye almost instantly were the banners flanking the main door.

They were garish in color, yellow with pink backing. The bottom had mirrored designs that, on a closer look, were a slim pair of figures kneeling and looking up in supplication. The figures were unmistakably female. Above them was a figure like the sun, the character for 'ka' stamped in the middle and a crown above it. It was pretty obvious what was meant to be conveyed on seeing it. And as though the banners weren't enough, a stained glass window sporting the same design stood out in sharp relief above the front door, lit from within and impossible to miss.

"Pretty tacky," Akira noted.

"No kiddin'," Sakamoto answered, but with a suspicious look in his eye. "Now I'm curious. Let's dig deeper."

They pushed the doors open and everything wavered as though it were a heat mirage, looking like Shujin's main courtyard and front doors for a moment before shifting back to the castle. "Weirder and weirder," Akira said as they entered. "Did you see that too?"

"Yep. This is crazy."

The entrance hall was unoccupied, vaulted and enormous. Those same banners flew amidst the rafters and ceiling beams, the floors were polished to a golden sheen, and there were statues set at regular intervals along the walls. Statues of the female form, from thighs to bust and nothing above the neck, fitted in skin-tight sports bras and spats. The proportions reminded Akira of Takamaki, but that was impossible unless someone had an intimate idea of what she looked like. Whoever the model was for these, though, the owner must have had a thing for her – they all looked to be the same person.

Ryuji looked around, fascinated, but a familiar shimmery sound caught Akira's ear. Over by an open doorway, flittering and fluttering, was the butterfly. It was going around in circles like it was waiting for something, but once it seemed to notice Akira, it went down the hall, trailing shards of light as it did.

"This place is crazy," Sakamoto commented, looking at the statues and the sheer magnitude of the interior.

"Over there," Akira pointed. "The same butterfly as before."

"Butterfly? Dude, you kiddin' me? Look at where we are – how would a butterfly get in here?"

"It's not normal, and neither is this place. It fits. Come on."

They went down the hall, then descended a spiral staircase, the glittering trail of their winged guide always just ahead of them. Around this corner and through that door it led them–

"Halt!"

–right into a guard room.

"Intruders," one declared, rising from a blocky wooden chair and table. He was a towering figure in plate mail, wielding a sword and a shield. "How did they get in here?"

"They bear the same crest as His Majesty," another noted. "Perhaps they are supplicants or new servants. Answer truthfully, have you come to swear fealty to His Majesty?"

Akira rubbed the back of his neck. "Where are we? What country?"

"We speak the same language, do we not? If you bow to His Majesty, then speak his name."

"Well, Japan has a Diet, not a king, so–"

The guard punched Akira in the stomach, blasting his breath out. Then Akira and Sakamoto were lifted over a guard's shoulder and carried off. "More thieves! To the dungeon with you!" the guards crowed. "His Majesty will decide your fate!"

Akira was left too winded to fight back, but it wouldn't have mattered. Sakamoto struggled and swore as he was carried along like he weighed nothing at all.

"Where'd that butterfly go, hm?" Sakamoto asked bitingly. "Any good ideas now?"

Akira couldn't respond.

Down more stairs they went, into an underground dungeon to be thrown and locked unceremoniously into a cell. The place wavered again, this time into the shape of a dark, foreboding power room with growling generators and dim lights, then back.

Akira watched the hazy illusion. Once it faded, he touched the walls. They were damp, like no power room would be. "What is that? It's like this place and Shujin are taking up the same space or something."

"That kinda explains why we got here on the way to school," Sakamoto granted. "But how'd we get here? Is Shujin gone and that's why we're seeing the visions? Past memories or somethin'?"

Akira pulled his phone out. To no surprise, there was no cell service. What was odd was that the app was back, the weird design taking up most of the screen. "This again…"

Ryuji looked over. "Hm? Oh, that thing? Yeah, I've deleted it like four times, but it kept comin' back. I just stopped tryin'. When did you get it?"

"I noticed it the other day, on the train when I was coming here. I have no idea where it came from or how I got it in the first–"

"Prisoners, you say?" a new voice stated. It was vaguely familiar. "Prisoners in my castle?"

Sakamoto stiffened. "No way. That's not possible."

Footsteps approached, then a figure in a flowing, heart-printed cape and… a pink thong turned the corner. Past the tacky crown and the vain attempt at posturing, Akira saw that it was the teacher in the car from less than an hour ago. He seemed a lot less pleasant this time.

"Kamoshida," Sakamoto spat out. The name was a profane word, rattling in the prison cell like the growl of an animal gone feral.

Kamoshida looked over, wearing a smirk rich with disdain. "Sakamoto. I'm not surprised to see a rat like you scurrying around down here. A fitting place for human trash."

Sakamoto straightened, looking about to lunge, but a couple of guards entered and crowded the two back.

"What's going on?" Akira asked. "You're a teacher, right? Where's the school?"

Kamoshida chuckled, looking down his nose at Akira. "Does this look like a school? I'm the king and this is my castle, little worm. That means you live or die by what I say."

"And break basic rules and laws on assaulting a minor? You'd be finished if you touched us."

"Hmm… like I was 'finished' back then?" Kamoshida glanced at Sakamoto's leg. "I wasn't the one on my knees, apologizing for some worthless piece of trash, was I? Hmm… who was that? Remind me again."

Sakamoto crouched, teeth bared. "You twisted son of a–"

"You are my prisoners, and I will do with you what I want," Kamoshida stated, banking their fire and guttering it out like a candle. "If my men kill you, no one will know. There will be no evidence. No inquiry. Even if there were, I am the absolute ruler here – minor issues like you do not matter to a king. That means I decide whether you two leave here or not."

The two backed away, disbelief giving way to fear.

"And I have decided… not." Kamoshida snapped his fingers, and the guards snapped to attention. "Make the new one watch. Sakamoto can be good at one thing in his life: serving as an object lesson on what happens to anyone who crosses Kamoshida."

Sakamoto scrambled back, terror growing in his eyes.

Akira was picked up by a guard and slammed against the wall. He tried to make sense of this, how any of this was possible. "This isn't real," he muttered. "I'm crazy. It's a dream, an illusion like all the rest. It's–"

The guard punched him hard across the face, sending his glasses to the ground. "It's very real. You hurt. You bleed. Watch and you'll see what happens when the king's justice is administered."

Kamoshida chuckled darkly, eyes alight with malice. Sakamoto had backpedaled to the wall, unable to go back any further.

Akira clenched his hands into fists. "Justice. This isn't justice."

Another punch to the stomach blew his wind out. "It's our justice, worm. The king's justice is the only right here."

The world turned black at the edges, but that shimmery sound anchored Akira to this alien reality. The butterfly danced before him, and amidst its wing beats he heard a girl's voice. "This is truly an unjust game. The players have no intention of letting you win, but without fighting, how can you hope to survive?"

Akira's head cleared. In that one frozen instant, he understood how real this all was.

"You hear me, don't you? If my voice is reaching you, then perhaps you do have a chance." The insect paused and seemed to look at him. "After all, if you cannot win by their rules, then what stops you from making your own?"

Akira dumbly reached out to grab the butterfly. It winked out of existence once his fingers touched it, but his hand burned, then his entire arm. Another heartbeat mimicked his own, pumping hot, molten power through him.

When the guard made to punch him again, he raised a hand–

–and a concussive blast blew everyone back. Ringing started in his ears, rising to the level of pain and beating out the measured tempo of a pulse.

He stared at Kamoshida.

"Stop it," Akira grated out hoarsely past the pain. "I won't let you do this. It… it isn't justice."

Kamoshida glared pugnaciously. "You won't let me? Who do you think you are, little worm? Does vermin speak of justice to a king?"

The heartbeat hammered in the room, beating at the bars. The ringing got worse, and a phantom outline hovered in the air before him; it was the same entity he'd heard the other day, and when it spoke the very walls of the prison trembled. "Will you let him die then? Is this the extent of your justice, to falter in the face of adversity? You believed in it once. You acted upon it. Was reprisal all it took to geld you and make you tame?"

"I… I wasn't wrong. I wasn't, but everyone else, they…"

Something materialized on his face. A mask, one meant to number him among criminals. The voices of the past returned with twice the volume, recriminations and blame drowning out Kamoshida and Sakamoto and the guards. Mom, Dad, Grams and Gramps, Riichi and Koji and NishiandMitsueandKaiya–

"Words. Noise. The opinions of the weak are chaff on the wind for one whose actions are just. Were they strong enough to act on their beliefs, saving another as you did would have been given proper due. Instead they cast you out. The coward's way binds them, one and all.

"I...wasn't wrong," Akira said in a faltering tone against the rising tide.

"Were you not? You accept their sentence, you act as they expect, and you wear their chains and shame. When they have made you quell yourself out of fear, what more need they do? The justice of such a creature deserves no attention. Such a false act should only be ignored."

"I wasn't wrong!" he shouted, the embers of his anger flashing into a firestorm that cooked the sweat from his skin. "I wasn't! And I'll prove it, to them and to everyone!"

"Words again. They are said easily, but cast aside when it is expedient to–"

"I didn't! I won't, not ever again! I'll find him, and I'll bring him down no matter what it takes!"

Joyous, demonic laughter rang through the cell, every syllable fitting between bones and joints and rattling them to the core. "Swear to me then! Vow to follow your justice until the stars burn out! Desecrate the false truths of this world and bring the guilty to light! Walk the path of rebellion and cast aside the laws of tyrants, though your soul be bound to Hell!"

Akira grabbed the mask. He flexed and ripped, tearing it and the surface of his face off with it with a scream. The voices went finally, totally silent, and it felt… good. Gobbets dripped blood, red ran in rivulets down his cheeks and neck. Air blew across the torn nerve endings, teasing and tormenting and cleansing his mind.

He was free.

Akira's chuckle was a ghostly echo of the phantom's.

"I…"

His lips raised in a Cheshire grin.

"Am…"

And he dropped his head and stared at Kamoshida, eyes yellow and wild with righteous fury and malicious glee.

"Thou."

He crushed the mask, and it broke into fragments of light with a crack like thunder. Power rushed up around him, blue flames engulfing him and cauterizing his face. That laughter returned even louder, embracing him as his clothes changed, his mind expanded, and Arsene welcomed him.

His Persona. Him.

The power rushed through Akira's body, singing like strummed strings. His muscles tensed, his eyes cleared, and all his fears and doubts were silent.

Akira looked at the gaudy tyrant, the coward in a king's robes, and flexed his hands.

Kamoshida backed away, trembling and pointing a shaking finger. "Kill that one! Kill him now!" he shouted before he fled, feet slapping on the stone floor.

The guards turned and rushed Akira.

He grinned so wide that his face hurt even more.

Akira darted forward under a wide slash, and kicked the guard's kneecap. He grabbed a dagger from the weapon belt and felt the tremors in his arm as he jammed the blade into a heart, between the links under the arm. Others moved forward and Akira slipped around them. His limbs shuddered with punches and bone-breaking kicks, always a step ahead of his foes. A new guard came in and was knocked to one knee by a blast of darkness, the shadows wrapping around Akira as Arsene laughed in his ears. The penultimate one went down to a crushed windpipe from an elbow to the neck. The last stared at him, fear apparent from behind the helmet. He tried to reach for Sakamoto, but the student scrambled away, and by then Akira had closed in. With a helmet in hand, he struck the guard's face with enough force to jolt the arm numb. Again. And again, harder and harder.

Over and over Akira struck, buckling the steel until he was beating mush into the wall. A final blast of darkness dissolved the guard into the same muck as the others. Akira looked around and saw no other takers. They were alone.

He straightened and trembled, Arsene's granted boon slowly diminishing, pulling him like a drug. The high left him, but power remained, a card turning in his mind's eye awaiting him to call it.

"D…dude," Sakamoto blurted out. "Wh- what the hell…?"

Akira glanced over and grinned. Then he sheathed the dagger and went and collected his bag and glasses, finding a ring of keys next to them. "Looks like we put him on the run."

"Y- yeah."

"We should leave before more guards come after us. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I can move, but… what the hell was that? What's with those clothes?"

Akira looked down. A vest, long coat, sleek pants and polished shoes, all classy and black, had replaced his uniform. Only his gloves, bright red and spattered with the muck of the guards, broke the sable consistency. "I like them," Akira decided.

"You like…? Where'd they come from? What was all that?" Sakamoto shook his head. "Let's just get outta here. You can lead the way."

Akira nodded.

They crept through the halls of the prison, keeping to the shadows. Neither had perfectly remembered the route they'd been carried down, but between the two of them they had some idea of where to go.

The problem was the guards who were alerted and searching for them, crashing and shouting through the place. Akira and Sakamoto ducked into one especially dark corner and shuffled back out of sight. It worked, so far.

"Hey," someone said from right next to them. "Hey, you two."

They looked around, then back before they realized who, or what, had spoken to them.

"Is that… a cat?" Ryuji asked in a choked whisper.

It certainly looked like one, complete with the paws and tail. A bandit's mask was around its face, slit open for two ears up top and clear, intelligent eyes. It wore a flashy bandana around its neck, and it was warped like so many things in this world were, but it was definitely a feline. The glossy black fur, white patches on its mouth, paws and tail, and shining blue eyes made Akira remember with pained fondness Mr. Fidgets, the cat he'd had growing up. Right from when the cat crossed paths with the Kurusu clan, Mr. Fidgets had never been able to stay still, always up this tree or in that room or scrounging through someone's drawers, and it had been Akira's tearful insistence that allowed the cat to stay at first. Soon enough, he'd become an essential part of the family, to either great amusement or accepting resignation, depending on who was talking. The only time the cat slowed down was when he was sleeping on Akira's bed, the place he spent more and more time as he got older.

Mr. Fidgets had been Akira's best friend growing up, and it had been heartbreaking when he died almost two years before. The hole that absence left was why Akira had declined getting another pet.

"What else would you expect a burglar to look like?" the feline asked with a wide grin and a cocky stance.

"A talking cat," Akira murmured. "You must be the thief the guards mentioned. You know, this isn't even the weirdest thing that's happened today."

"The feeling's mutual. You're the one with the Persona, right? I heard you all the way down here." The cat's ears flicked and he looked to the side. "Guards approaching. I don't think even you can fight that many."

Sakamoto cursed under his breath. "We need to find a way out of here."

"I can get you out," the cat stated. "They got the jump on me, but they couldn't have found my way in here. I didn't tell them anything. Open the door and I'll show you where it is."

"Then what?" Akira asked.

"You can go back to your world and forget this place existed. It's too dangerous if you're here by accident, and the ruler here's a tyrant."

"If he's a tyrant, shouldn't you come with us?"

"There's something here that I need to find. Something that crazy king has stored away."

"We've got a score to settle with him," Sakamoto growled.

"Later. The guards are coming and if they corner us, you won't be able to escape. Let me out!"

Akira asked, "What's your name?"

"My name? Hm… You can call me Mona. It'll work for now."

"Well then, Mona, it's a deal." Akira picked through the keys and had the cell door open in short order. Mona stretched, cracked his neck, and led them through the darkness. He was as good as his word – more than once he tipped them off to guard movements well before they saw anything. A few tense minutes later they'd dodged the patrols and were in a storage room, away from any attention, and looking at a discrete access hole behind a crate.

"Clever," Akira praised.

"There's daylight out there," Sakamoto said as he looked through the hole. "It's like a rip in the seams or somethin'. I can see the real world through it. That's gotta be our way out."

"Then you should hurry," Mona told them. "The guards will be looking for you."

"Don't need to tell me twice." Sakamoto was through the crack and waving to Akira a few seconds later.

Akira looked at their unusual contact. "You'll be okay here?"

"Of course. Those goons got lucky. They won't get a second chance at me."

Akira chuckled and tapped his forehead in a salute. "I believe it, you know. Well, be safe, Mona." Then he followed Sakamoto out and was gone.

Mona watched the unusual thief disappear, then stroked his whiskers. "You too. Until next time."

7 7 7

As the pair stepped back into their world, the noise of the city crashed in with shouts and chatter and car traffic, the smells and taste on the air choking Akira for a moment before his body remembered where it was. He almost tipped over as the pressure of that place vanished.

"What a ride," Sakamoto panted out, clearly feeling the same effects. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Your clothes're normal again."

Akira looked down and saw that he was back in his uniform. Some part of him was glad that he didn't need to stash the dagger and his other attire away somewhere – that would have been hard to explain to Sakura-san – but he also missed the classy fit and style. "I wonder where they went," he said finally.

Sakamoto looked at him sideways. "You okay?"

Akira brushed his face while putting his glasses back on. Then he ran a finger down his cheek, feeling the aching nerves flinching under the freshly repaired skin. "I think so. I mean, that was all real, but we're back here." He looked down the alley. "The school's there, too. I have no idea what's going on."

Sakamoto checked his phone. "Man, we're seriously late."

"So time passes on this side when we're there, but where is that place? How would we look to someone if they saw us come back?" Akira shook his head. "This is weird."

"You think? C'mon, we're gonna have to face the music; let's get this over with." Sakamoto went to pass him by, but stopped and looked at him.

Akira asked, "What's wrong?"

Sakamoto set his phone to picture mode and held it up. Akira saw himself on the screen, and the blood on the collar of his shirt. His blood.

He nodded and folded it down. That would have to do until he could find a way to wash it out. "Thanks."

"Any time."

Neither said anything as they approached Shujin's entrance, but a crystal ball wasn't needed to tell where their minds were.

And as though their thoughts summoned the man himself, Kamoshida was at the front doors, looking down on them. He sneered at Sakamoto and smiled smugly. The crown and cape were missing, but the air of an unjust king radiated off of him like a stench. He was just one petty whim away from openly handing down decrees, and he knew they would be followed as readily here as 'there.'

"You're late," he informed them, seeming to take pleasure in the words. "Truancy is a recordable offense, Sakamoto."

The student grumbled, but looked at the teacher and went pale.

Kamoshida pressed on. "Nothing to say? That's a first."

Sakamoto kept quiet as he passed by.

Kamoshida grunted as Sakamoto went through the doors, seeming to expect a different reaction. Then he turned back to stare at Akira. "And you are?"

Akira let the pressure of that false authority pass around him and leave him unaffected. "I'm new here. Kurusu Akira."

"I know you from somewhere."

"The street this morning. You were in your car."

"Hm. I remember. But I feel like it was from somewhere else…"

Akira blandly answered, "This is my first school in Tokyo. I just transferred in. We've never met, and I've never seen you or heard of you before today."

The double meaning sparked the annoyance that flashed in Kamoshida's eyes, followed by recognition and unholy intent the same as 'over there.' "I see. You're our new student. Well, welcome to Shujin. You might want to consider other company than Sakamoto – he has a way of dragging people down. You should see Kawakami-sensei right away, too. I think she was looking for you."

"I'll do that. Thanks."

School was a circus after that. Kawakami-sensei was hardly impressed by his late arrival, and it was only because of her "good graces and lenient mood today" that he was getting off with just a warning. Akira's delayed introduction to his class cemented his apparent reputation as a gang member as everyone speculated in whispers over why he was late on his first day – they didn't even wait for him to finish giving his name before they started talking. Then he got the seat behind Takamaki, who glanced at him in recognition, muttered about the ridiculousness of their classmates, and stared out the nearby window in silence. Finally, his teachers watched him with varying degrees of mistrust, like they expected him to actively recruit the other students or make a scene somehow. As it was, they seemed intent on blaming him for the way everyone stepped lightly around him, physically and socially, and wouldn't talk about anything else.

Akira kept up his facade and barely spoke to anyone.

When classes were over, Takamaki disappeared out the door. Akira packed up and was stopped by Kawakami-sensei to be read the Riot Act for the second time that day. "Keep your situation in mind, Kurusu-san," she warned. "I already told you how fortunate you are to be here, but flaunt the rules again and I can't promise–" She looked to the side. "Do you need something, Sakamoto-san?"

The bleached-blond student answered, "Just came by to see if this guy was free."

She frowned. "I heard you arrived together. Kurusu-san, make sure he doesn't get you involved in his problems – you've got enough of your own."

Sakamoto grumbled. "My problems, and his, ain't your concern, Kawakami-sensei. Not like you're on the hook if we get booted out."

"Your actions reflect on the school, which means they reflect on all of us by association. Try to see it from our perspective for a change."

"We will," Akira put in. "Thanks for your consideration, Sensei. I'll be fine – we just need to discuss something."

She looked at him, then shook her head. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Once she left them, Sakamoto bit out, "Crabby old hag. Who the hell is she, talkin' about me like that?"

"That's how she's been with me right from the start," Akira offered. "You can't even say it's going from bad to worse. It's just staying at bad."

Sakamoto muttered something impolite under his breath, then looked up. "You got plans right now?"

"Nothing in particular. Why?"

"I'm hungry. Come on, I'll show you a place."

At no point did it sound like Akira had a choice. But his lunch had felt insufficient after awakening his Persona, and he'd been fighting down yawns for the last hour, so he followed.

The place Sakamoto had in mind was a hole in the wall a few blocks away that smelled of ramen as soon as they entered. The clientele was salarymen and local businessmen, not a single student to be seen.

Sakamoto ordered and paid for them both, feasting on his dish with gusto. "Man, that hits the spot. Nothin' like this taste to remind me I'm alive."

"It's excellent," Akira offered, eating at a more sedate pace to enjoy it. "But I haven't been here long enough to find any of the best places yet."

"I'll show you," Sakamoto said expansively. "Some of them you won't find on a map or online. Least I can do for you savin' my ass."

"Thanks, but… I don't know how I did all that."

"Yeah, that's what you said. A blue butterfly, a voice in your head, and a Persona. Then you were breakin' necks and cashin' checks."

"Seems pretty crazy when you say that. It doesn't seem real."

"Tell me about it. I was there and I still don't really believe it." He looked distant for a moment. "Could you do it again? Fight like that? Maybe find that cat, Mona, if we go back 'there'?"

"I don't know. The Persona and that outfit seem tied to that place, so probably?"

"You can't feel it now? No voice in your head or somethin'?"

"It's there, but no voices. It's hard to explain. Why would you want to go back?"

Sakamoto clenched a hand into a fist. "If there's more to 'that place,' like, if it's tied to our Kamoshida… I want in. I know what he's like. He's the kind of asshole who would lord what he has over everyone – he already acts like he's the master of the whole school. If that castle has something we can use against him, something no one else could find, then bring me with you."

"It sounded like there was some bad blood between you two."

"That ain't the half of it. That piece of shit, he… well, it's a long story. But, promise me."

"I'm not even sure how we got in there."

Sakamoto held up his phone and tapped the weird app. 'Castle' was highlighted and even had a tourist's photo selection of the outside. "Looks like this was the culprit. I dunno how it worked before, but we should be able to use it again."

"That's crazy." Akira smirked. "But I've been saying that a lot lately. If we need to get something, then sure, I'm in. Maybe I'll learn something about why that place is there or what I'm supposed to do with a Persona in the first place."

"Good. Hey, who got under your skin? The guy you said you'd bring down. Who was it and what'd he do to you?"

Akira raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Seemed like a big deal, enough for you to shout the roof down. It must've been somethin' serious to piss you off that much. I didn't see it coming. I mean, when I met you I felt like you were just some quiet bookworm or somethin'."

"That was the idea. No one notices the herbivore in the grass."

"Except the predators."

"True enough."

"So?"

Akira shifted on his seat and ran a finger down his cheek. The nerves were still sore. "In that cell, Kamoshida mentioned someone kneeling and begging for forgiveness or something. You don't seem the sort to bow to anyone, so who was that?"

Sakamoto opened and closed his mouth a few times, then looked aside. "That's personal," he grumbled finally.

"Same with me. It's personal."

"Gotcha."

They ordered more ramen, and Akira insisted on paying for his meal this time. "I appreciate it, but I'm not bankrupting you when I don't know how I pulled that stuff off," he said.

They avoided the serious subjects as they ate, focusing on normal topics like games and girls. Sakamoto caught him up on the gossip of the school, much of which involved Akira himself. "I've got no idea who's spreadin' rumors about you," Sakamoto said, "but they're doin' it on purpose and talkin' to everyone who'll listen." Eventually they were done and it was time to go.

When they were outside, Sakamoto cleared his throat and kicked the ground. "Ryuji," he said finally, turning and holding a hand out. "Kamoshida was givin' you a death stare when we got back. He's got your number. I know how bad he can be, and us rejects have to stick together – gods know that no one else's gonna help us. Besides, I still owe you for, well, you know."

"Show me the best food places and I'll call it even. I can't take too much credit when–"

Sakamoto chuffed impatiently. "I don't care if you know how you did it or not. You helped me when I needed it, and you didn't even know who I was. You didn't buy into Kamoshida or Kawakami's shit about me. That's not nothin'. You get it?"

Akira looked at the hand, then shook it firmly. In perhaps the least expected way imaginable, it seemed he'd made a friend. "Akira."

"Thanks, I guess. I mean, not 'I guess.' I'm serious."

"No problem, Ryuji. Glad to help."