The Mask Shatters
Chapter 10
"The definition of suspicion is cautious distrust…"
Author's Note
Long time no see.
Got no real excuse this time. Just kinda got bored for a bit and did some other stuff for the month of April. I know a lot of April was also spent gathering VAs for our audio reading of the story, which the first chapter is out now on Soundcloud if anyone's interested. Just look up The Mask Shatters Audio Reading!
One thing I noticed during the casting process was the typos that slipped by both me and the main editor. To fix that problem, we have brought on a secondary editor, you may have seen him in the reviews on this story as Kabuto S. Inferno! Welcome aboard, Kabuto!
Without further adieu - OK, listen, I know I am using the wrong word here, and have been aware of it since the inception of my writing, but I like it and I know what I'm doing. As the Scout from TF2 once said... *ahem*
"Deal with it!"
...Enjoy the story.
There he sat, alone in a room filled with excess junk and mementos of a younger life.
On his bed, sheets missing, atop a neatly placed blanket to cushion himself.
A lamp in one corner illuminated the room, bearing the design of a 1990s motorcycle group - a little souvenir given to him by his father when he was younger.
His fencing uniform sat in one corner, gathering dust as the disuse grew more apparent.
In the other corner a busted TV, something Arthur could never afford to fix on his own.
In his hands he held a small novel, one by a renowned English author - known for his historical fiction books about a Pagan fighting for a Christian king in the dark ages many centuries ago.
Old headphones in his ears, and a flick of a page, and he found a sense of content in a rather distasteful moment in time.
The music distracted his ears from the surroundings, and the novel distracted his mind from scurrying thoughts.
In the novel, the main character was leading an assault on a viking-controlled London, backed by a small Saxon army. The words were so delicately chosen, the scenes so vivid… It distracted the young man well.
He could picture the swords clashing, the blood spraying, the Danish battlecries, the English taunts, the whizzing of arrows, the fires burning in an abyssal twilight night.
These vivid images distracted and entertained Arthur well, and in the squalor he sat in, he managed a small, warm smile.
Such a smile seemed to be hard to come across, especially today.
Although he could not hear it, he could sense it. The stomping, the shattering of various glasses, the murmurs of a faint "Bollocks!"
He knew all too well what was going on. A stark, quiet Saturday afternoon ruined by the return of his mother.
From the slurs of her voice, he understood well what was wrong with her - and that was the fact she was high on prescription medication.
Prescription medication imposed to combat a mental illness, when in fact it did the opposite; making her aggressive and extremely unreasonable.
The music was a late addition to his activity, for he had initially been alone in the house and he did his best to ignore everything and even act like he wasn't home.
Perhaps that would spare him a verbal battering.
This wasn't the first time she had taken an excess amount of prescription pills, and it wouldn't be the last. No matter how many times Arthur, his father, and other relatives attempted to dissuade her, she was convinced she needed these pills to survive. She was convinced she was a better person while on them, and had no recollection of her actions while on them.
Only of what others had said or done to her.
A real drug addict, in essence.
Minutes passed as he read the ongoing ancient battle, the music singing in his ears, and a page flip here and there. He did his best to ignore the basic drunkenness his mother outside was displaying. She hadn't seemed to be aware of his presence yet, and Arthur quietly hoped that would remain a constant.
"Ish anyone hoomee?" He heard his mother call out, slurring her voice to near beyond recognition. Her Northern Irish roots displayed well in her voice.
Arthur, giving out a sigh, adjusted himself in place in an attempt to make himself more comfortable.
Moments further passed, and suddenly he heard faint knocks at his door.
"Arhuuur… Arhuuurr? Yooou there?" She asked, adding a hard knock to the already weak door. Arthur didn't answer, and suddenly he could hear a rise in her voice. "I seee the liht in therrr Arhuuurr! I know ya in therrr! Open the feckin' door!"
Arthur didn't move, and simply sighed as he flipped another page.
There was no lock on the door, she could come in whenever she wanted.
"Open the feckin' door before I do! Don' ignorrr me, ya blihte in me huse!"
The aggressive battering grew louder and more destructive moment by moment, her Irish accent bouncing off of the walls and falling upon willingly deaf ears.
At some point, his mother must've had enough of the silence, for the banging suddenly ceased.
The door opened.
All Arthur could do was sigh...
"Did you see Williams this morning?"
"Yeah, I did… He looked troubled…"
"Crazy does that to ya… I should know, my uncle's insane, heheh…"
"Crazy American? Old news, brother. But did you hear about that artist, Madarame?"
"Oh yeah, I did…"
Jumping from his slumber, Arthur awoke with sweat dripping from his forehead, eyes dilated with fear, and breathing uneven. He quickly scanned his rather barren, pitch black room trying to search for a token to prove he was in solid reality.
"H-huh?! W-what…?" He glanced around, trying to spot light. He had momentarily forgotten that he had fallen asleep in the dark. As he quietly sat there, he began to hum deeply, not sure if he was still asleep or awake.
He lifted his arms up, barely making out their silhouettes in the sheer darkness.
An all too familiar darkness which he had experienced prior to awaking in his very own morgue…
It took a few moments, but soon Arthur was able to deduce this was reality, not a dreamstate the likes of which he could not figure out. His breathing was uneven, and the sweat he found himself drenched in only made the feeling of fear even more uncomfortable. He slowly laid himself back down, and for a while he sat in the dark of his room in a quiet daze.
Try as he might, however, he quickly found it impossible to return to slumber. Heart racing, mind jumbled, and thoughts pressed firmly with fear, nothing could so easily lull him back to sleep.
A hot shower followed this rude awakening, which he slightly feared would awake his guardian and friend, Himura.
Initially he intended to shower for only a stark few moments, but the pitter-patter of the water on the porcelain shower tiles reminded him of the peaceful rainy days at home, of which Washington State had plenty of. This soft noise, combined with the heat of the water, served to calm his nerves rather swiftly, and soon his mind ventured elsewhere as he came to a more awakened state.
Idle in that shower, forehead pressed firmly against the white acrylic wall, eyes firmly shut, and mind lost in thought, he distracted himself with thoughts on the Phantom Thief phenomena.
Yesterday was a revelation like no other.
A confession by a master artist, one targeted by the Phantom Thieves.
Initially, Arthur had forgotten mostly of the previous calling card sent out until Ichisake had made mention of it. Then, as if on cue, the words of Igor found credence once more in his mind.
"Seek the Phantom Thieves, dear Arthur. Find them, before it is too late."
An order given to a confused young man, once thought to be a dismissable phenomenon, now believed by this very same young man to be a message he must follow to its completion. Initially he had believed these Phantom Thieves were nothing more than a vanity project created by some bored pranksters and sensationalized within the media, but lightning never struck twice - especially in such a fashion where the end result was the same.
His research into Kamoshida concluded Kamoshida was a bastard of a human being, but after his calling card his personality and overall demeanour completely changed. Now Madarame was in the same boat.
Coincidence? Or something more?
Arthur, a man of logic, understood that something more was occurring. A dream could be discarded easily under the safe assumption that it was just mere happenstance. But everything seemed to line up too perfectly.
The Velvet Room?
Igor?
Kamoshida?
Madarame?
Fate?
Salvation?
Concepts foreign to Arthur, much like the friends he had come to make these past few weeks. But much like these friends, he also came to understand it was all very much real. As real as he perceived, at any rate.
Still, in his mind, doubt lingered. Seeing was believing. Physical evidence pointed to truth, and without that evidence, there would be no certainty. No conviction. Simple theories and hypotheses were all that remained.
Arthur groaned, annoyed with his own curiosity. As the old saying went, "Curiosity killed the cat."
"But satisfaction brought it back…" Arthur murmured internally.
Hiding his eyes within the grip of his pruned hands, he mumbled. "How am I supposed to even begin searching for these supernatural bandits…?"
"If thou wouldst seeketh thine phantom quarry, looketh to thine own inner circle…"
Arthur jumped in placing, nearly slipping on the wet tile below as the voice echoed around him. "Huh?!" He gasped, unsure of what he had just heard. Regaining his footing, Arthur darted his eyes left and right, he spotted no one within the shower and beyond the curtain lay no shadow or silhouette of a figure unknown.
He ripped the curtain to the side, quickly glancing about for an intruder. But instead, all he was met with was an empty bathroom.
And a waterlogged floor.
Arthur, realizing he was tense and his joints locked, slowly relaxed as the fright of the sudden voice faded into obscurity, replaced with instead a cooling sensation of relief that it was just his imagination.
"I need more sleep… Starting to hear things now…" He concluded as he drew the shower curtain forward. He fell against the wall behind him, sliding down onto his rump as the new thought of sleep deprivation set in. But then, instead of further fright, he smiled. Amused at the idea that he was working himself up over such trivialities.
Then, that smile turned into a giggle.
And soon the fright was forgotten as the morning passed slowly from dark into a foggy light.
The school bells would ring.
And another day of school would dawn.
"How's the progress, Dr. Maruki?" Kobayakawa asked, holding close to his fat chest a cup of black coffee.
"Yes, Doctor. We are quite interested in hearing your report." The vice principal echoed, crossing his arms behind the principal.
Before them sat a well-mannered, quirky, bespectacled young doctor. A doctor with brown hair, a stubble, and a young complexion. This doctor was one recently summoned to Shujin, and already beloved by both the staff and student body.
And especially doted on by the female students.
This doctor, Doctor Takuto Maruki, took a seat before the two administrators of Shujin. His hands clasped in his lap, he looked around the office. There wasn't much different about it since his last visit here, aside from a couple extra folders sitting before Principal Kobayakawa. One of them marked for a student he was very familiar with - Ren - and another he didn't have the honor of even speaking long with - Arthur.
"Progress?" Maruki asked, scratching the dry stubble on his chin. He hadn't slept well last night. "About… the counseling? It's going OK, I suppose. However, it mostly seems to be the common issues the youth these days face: Love, money, the new video games. Heheh… Oh boy, if only they grew up in the days we did…" He chuckled into his hand, eliciting nothing but annoyance in the two admins.
The vice principal and Kobayakawa looked at each other a moment, stern eyes meeting one another in a moment of aggravation. "Dr. Maruki…" The vice principal started, taking a step forward. "...Would you like a cup of coffee?" He asked, motioning to the brand new coffee making sitting by the window. "We have a few roasts that are rather excellent..."
"Oh… Is this new? This wasn't here when I started…" Maruki noted, eyeing the coffee maker up and down. It was a large thing, standing on stilts built into it with a sidebar for cups, creamers, stirrers, and sweeteners. Underneath, on a small little shelf, sat a variety of coffee types. "By all means, please. I… didn't sleep well last night."
"That is very apparent." Principal Kobayakawa stated.
"Yes, indeed." The vice principal echoed as he slowly strolled towards the brewer. "Any bean type?"
"No preference." Maruki answered, smiling widely at the vice principal for his offer and ignoring the rude gesture Kobayakawa offered. It's almost as if Maruki failed to hear it. The vice principal nodded, and quickly the machine began to churn softly as he fiddled with the digital interface.
"Maruki…" Kobayakawa deadpanned, his slow tone catching Maruki's distracted attention. "I'm not referencing the student body as a whole. I'm asking about a certain individual I tasked you with…. Controlling. Ring any bells?"
"Controlling…?" Maruki slowly asked, raising his clasped hands to his chest. "I'm not sure I follow…"
Kobayakawa then sighed, remaining quiet for a moment after while maintaining an uneasy, direct eye contact with the counselor.
Meanwhile, the smell of brewing coffee began to fill the room and permeate the air with its delectable, thick scent. The vice principal smiled as the sounds of liquid swished into the mug he held firm in his hands, and he glanced over at Kobayakawa with an impressed look. "I'm gonna have to brew some more. This smells great!"
The principal lowered his head, humming in a deep annoyance.
"Yes, I'm sure it is." He deadpanned into his hands. Maruki eyed Kobayakawa warily, unsure exactly the mood Kobayakawa was in. "Now, Dr. Maruki. I'm referring to our… *ahem*... studious foreign exchange student. I made you aware of him whe-"
"Ah, yes! Yes!" Maruki smiled, nodding towards the Principal a confirmation. "I know who you're referring to now! Yes, yes! That nice Williams fellow."
The Principal nodded, "Yes, Arthur. Williams. Whatever you wish to call him." Kobayakawa waved off the honorifics with a roll of his eyes. "Care to answer my question? I'm afraid we don't have all morning…"
Maruki sat still for a moment, unsure completely of what the principal was asking. "Williams…? Controlling….?" He mumbled to himself, unsure of what correlation to make between the two. He glanced over the room towards the vice principal, who had his back to the duo as he prepared Maruki's cup of coffee, and that brought Maruki no answer to his question.
The principal seemed to have understood Maruki's reticence, and sought to answer his confusion. "The question was: Has Williams come to you for counseling yet? I directed you days ago to contact him and have him attend!" The principal raised his rather intimidating voice. "Good God, man. Did you sleep at all, last night?!" He asked, his annoyance reaching its peak.
The vice principal turned around, eyeing the loud Kobayakawa up and down a moment. Maruki looked back at him, and the worried look the vice principal gave him was all the confirmation he needed to understand how heavily this weighed on Kobayakawa's mind.
"I apologize, Kobayakawa-san, but you can't just force someone to attend counseling." Maruki said, watching as the vice principal immediately tensed up. "I did all I could, and he refused. That is as simple an answer as I require for my job, unfortunately."
The principal looked up at him, locking eyes with the doctor for mere moments, his face slowly reddening. "Excuse me, but what did you just say?"
"I said what I said, Kobayakawa-san." Maruki said, frowning ever so slightly. "I've only spoken with Williams-kun once, but already I could tell he was a well-spoken young man, and it didn't appear to me that he had any underlying issues." He informed the principal, crossing his arms in the process. "Not to mention forcing counseling on one who does not wish it is rather unethical." He rose a finger to his chin in thought. "And more often than naught, unbeneficial for the patient."
Kobayakawa stared blankly for a moment, unsure of how to even react. It was clear, however, to both parties in the room that Kobayakawa was getting angry.
"D-d-do you take sugar in your coffee, M-M-Maruki-san?" The vice principal suddenly piped up, frightened of an angry Kobayakawa. Maruki glanced over at him, a steaming cup of coffee in his pale hands. "O-or… Or creamer?"
Maruki smiled, chuckling as Kobayakawa sighed into his clenched hands. "Black is fine."
The vice principal nodded, hesitating a step forward as the principal shook his head silently.
"Take a look at this, Doctor." The principal slid one of the folders towards the counselor. "Appraise it, and then look at me - with the clearest eye you can muster - and tell me he is of sound mind."
"Huh…?" Maruki grunted, looking at the dark yellow folder. Arthur's full name was on it. "What is…?"
"Maruki-san." The vice principal approached, offering the cup to the doctor. Maruki smiled, taking it slowly with a happy "Thank you."offered to the vice principal. The cup of coffee was indeed even hot to the touch, with the paper cup barely able to even keep Maruki from feeling the heat.
The steam was vast and flowed freely, fogging up his glasses to a degree that even the vice principal managed a slight giggle, one that was promptly silenced by Kobayakawa's stern stare.
Maruki took a blind sip, and smacked his lips as he sat the cup down next to his feet slowly. Reaching out, he took a hold of the folder and held it parallel to his face. A small smile dawned.
"It'd be great if I could actually read such a document, Kobayakawa-san." Maruki joked, holding the folder within his grasp, staring through fogged up lenses. He could barely make out the color of the folder itself.
The principal wasn't amused.
"Wipe your glasses off and read it, doctor." Kobayakawa basically ordered him, causing Maruki's smile to falter as he sat the folder flat in his lap. After cleaning his glasses, he opened the folder.
He was greeted by an in-depth medical analysis of Arthur's mental instability.
"What is…?" Maruki started, glossing over everything.
"Read it over, Doctor. Read it over." Kobayakawa sat back in his seat, the legs creaking with the weight the principal possessed. The vice principal meanwhile found a spot behind Kobayakawa, his arms crossed and an uncertain look on his face.
Maruki nodded, retrieving paper after paper from the document, looking over every synopsis and every word. From doctors in the United States to a specific therapist. From school records to even an official police suicide report. Maruki spent minutes staring and reading everything, occasionally glancing up at Kobayakawa with a dubious eye.
"Suicide… Troubled home life... Family…" Maruki murmured as he read, holding his stubbled chin in thought all the while.
Kobayakawa and his vice principal, meanwhile, waited patiently.
After what felt like an eternity passed, Maruki slowly lifted his head from the documents, glaring at Kobayakawa specifically.
"I'm not sure about the legality of this." He said simply. "You possessing these documents violates numerous laws not only in Japan, but the United States of America. You do realize this, correct?"
Kobayakawa raised a brow and cocked his head, remaining silent to allow Maruki to continue.
"I mean, this is a direct violation of countless ethical codes, laws, and doctor-patient confidentiality orders!" He stood up, dropping the folder hard on Kobayakawa's desk. "Is this really how you run your school, Kobayakawa?!" Maruki, as papers flew in every direction, raised his voice. His brow quivered with the anger he was suddenly feeling at the principal.
The principal did nothing. Nothing but shake his head in response.
"Worry not with the legality, Doctor. I assure you I obtained these in the most legitimate way possible…"
"Through the darkweb, perhaps." Maruki spat back, darting his eyes between the principal and his vice subordinate. "I'm sorry Kobayakawa, but I do not operate under illegal premises."
"Doctor…" Kobayakawa leaned forward, trying his best to calm the situation that was developing out of his favor. Maruki would have none of it, however, as he crossed his arms and maintained his venomous tone.
"I have my tenure here until November. That is for certain." Maruki hissed. "But I will not violate the confidentiality he has with his therapist in the United States! I just will not!"
The principal nodded, remaining silent as the counselor tiraded on behalf of his sense of justice.
"I will NOT force him into this! He comes to me willingly, or he doesn't receive counseling at all!" Maruki stooped down to pick up his piping hot cup of coffee. He winced slightly at the stiff, piercing heat he felt before turning his attention back on his boss. "That is how this works, Principal Kobayakawa… That is what I agreed to..."
"Doctor Maruki, if you would just listen to me a moment I'm sure we could find a decent compromise…." Kobayakawa told him, holding a hand up and gesturing for the doctor to calm down. "Just hold a moment and let me speak, please?" He further asked, to which Maruki put a hand in his lab coat and watched with severe disinterest.
For a moment further, silence prevailed in the room. The vice principal, uncomfortable as he was, looked in between Maruki and Kobayakawa. The latter of which watched Maruki closely in the event he decided to storm off. It was clear that Maruki was angry, which Kobayakawa was not used to. It wasn't uncalled for, either, as Kobayakawa knew he himself had broken several laws in two countries to retrieve these rather sensitive documents.
He wasn't going to admit that, however.
Maruki watched the principal closely during that silence, curious as to what more he had to add onto the already blazing fire of illegal activity.
Kobayakawa, satisfied that he had Maruki's attention - as fragile as it was - slowly opened his mouth to speak. "Maruki, even you have to admit that what dear Williams-kun has gone through is… horrible, to say the least." The principal started, motioning to the scattered paperwork before him.
Maruki didn't say anything. At this point, all he did was listen.
"All I've been wanting you to do is give him an ear… Make sure he's happy and… doesn't relapse into a state of despair… Er… I mean, I don't know what you counselors call these situations, but bottomline: Don't you want to help him? Is it not part of your Hippocratic Oath?" Kobayakawa reasoned
Maruki didn't reply. He simply stood there, glaring at Kobayakawa with a very unpleasant eye. After a moment of visual exchange, he turned towards the principal, his expression unchanged.
"Have a great day, Kobayakawa-san." Maruki bowed.
With that said, he turned away and quickly - and unpleasantly - exited the room. Much to Maruki's credit, and to the surprise of Kobayakawa, he refrained from slamming the door. But as soon as Maruki was out of sight, Kobayakawa leaned back in his seat, the chair struggling under the weight Kobayakawa presented it.
The vice principal clicked his tongue, slowly striding towards where Maruki once sat. Disappointment in his eyes, and a wary expression focused on his employer. "That was unpleasant."
"Shut up." Kobayakawa ordered, rubbing his temples as the feeling of a disastrous migraine settled in. The vice principal looked at him a moment in confusion, which Kobayakawa felt. He squinted at his employee, frowning deeply. "Uh, wh-what I mean is: Quite…."
The vice principal nodded, looking back towards the door the counselor had left through.
"You were of no help, however." Kobayakawa noted, groaning at the sudden smattering of pain he was beginning to experience.
"To be fair, Kobayakawa-san…" The vice principal started. "You were raising your voice first… I didn't want any part of that. I was told we were going to have a reasonable discussion with Maruki-san..."
Kobayakawa lowered his hands, deadpanning at his subordinate. He didn't respond, he didn't even acknowledge what was said. Just a silent, angry stare.
The vice principal gulped.
"Get me some aspirin." Kobayakawa ordered.
"Yes, Kobayakawa-san…" The vice principal murmured, bowing as he swiftly departed the room.
Kobayakawa sighed, closing his eyes as the stressful pain stabbed into his mind. The anger he once felt subsided into a cowardly fear - fear of what was to come. A dangerous, delinquent, country-bumpkin second-year, an airheaded first-year with a personality disorder the likes of which he's never seen before, and a mentally unstable foreign third-year.
The media will eat it up if anything untoward happens between the three of them.
And Kobayakawa will be the one to suffer.
His colleagues may even use it against him in the end of things…
He groaned, the stress of this thinking triggering more surges of pain from an already rampaging migraine. He rose a hand to his forehead, attempting to hold together what felt like a collapsing mind.
Even more aggravating was Maruki's perceived unwillingness to aid in controlling the foreigner. Kobayakawa had not expected such hostility, but quietly he supposed it wasn't uncalled for considering the fact he had indeed received the reports on Arthur through illegal manners.
But that wasn't of concern to Kobayakawa. Keeping his position is all that mattered at this point.
"And catching those damn Phantom Thieves, as well." He thought.
Groaning, he fell limp into his weakening chair. Relaxing even his mind to the silence the room had, and the faint smell of fresh coffee that remained.
*CRZZZT*
"G-Goddammit!" Kobayakawa screamed, falling onto his back so swiftly that the world began spinning before he even landed. Splinters flew in each direction as the chair legs collapsed under him. The cushioned seat fell straight downwards, and the back of the chair went with him.
The chair had finally, and suddenly, shattered under his sheer obesity.
Kobayakawa laid there a moment in agony, the sudden movement and physical pain adding to the mental strain he was already facing. The spinning continued, and slowly he began to groan as he stared into a spinning abyss.
As the minutes passed, and no one came to check on the yelling, the spinning slowly and painfully subsided.
But what didn't subside was the agony Kobayakawa felt. Physical, and mental.
He frowned, a single tear rolling down his flabby cheek.
"What a troublesome year…"
"I saw Williams today at lunch. Alone."
"Alone? What, did Miyara-senpai abandon him?"
"Who cares? Honestly, get a life loser."
"I don't know, something with him seemed serious. He was on his phone, and had a look on his face… It scared me."
"Williams? He's a goddamn lunatic. Just ignore him."
"Did you see those scary guys at the subway this morning?"
"Yeah… Something's up… Get a ride home today."
The day's end was fast approaching.
The date was the sixth of June.
The pitter patters of rain pelted the windows in a soft assault that, honestly, sounded like a calm music to the ears of Arthur. A music he wished for, silently, as the day continued to harbor loud murmurs and the chuckles of students all around.
The faces began to blend together in Arthur's mind. The many different students - varying in age and personality - began to become nothing more than background scenery in Arthur's daily trudge. The clean-shaven boys, the young girls, all laughing. All giggling. All ignorant of his presence.
Or maybe that was a stretch.
Some, passing by, would glance at him and murmur to themselves silently. It wasn't as far a common occurrence as before, just as Ren had, days ago, predicted.
And it was something that Arthur was glad to be rid of.
Despite his submission into obscurity, Arthur knew standing out any more would only add fuel to the fire and he knew how he handled things when the brink was met, he opted to remain anonymous. He chose not to speak to anyone unless spoken to, and not befriend anyone further.
Which is why, as Arthur stood by his lonesome in the first floor hallway of the main building, he opted to slide next to the lockers and thumb away on his phone until he was fully allowed to return home.
His day was spent in silence.
Ichisake had not shown up at school.
Ann was around, but was hanging out with Ren and some blond boy. Arthur, partially, wanted to intervene and share the day with them. But the presence of the blond boy dissuaded him. He didn't wish to create any awkward tension within their already established group dynamic.
Due to this newfound status of personal isolation, he instead opted to perform a little research into a subject matter that he had intentionally ignored for far too long.
A subject that both intrigued and mystified him.
A subject that he hears left and right, over and over, no matter where he went, and no matter where he was.
The news on the train spoke nothing but of the subject.
The police who rode the train were always chatting about it.
His classmates were always excited to hear it.
And Mr. Sakutaro would give detention to anyone who spoke of it.
The Phantom Thieves of Hearts.
An occult topic that Arthur, while interested in due to its obscurity and fantastical nature, had no real disposition to actively look over or even talk about. He once thought it to be a prank, constructed by attention-seeking high schoolers for a good laugh, but lightning doesn't strike twice.
He had done his research into Madarame. He thumbed through various news articles, various social media sites like "Chirper" or "Worldbook", and even checked overseas for any mention on the topic. Everything pointed to Madarame having indeed been a bad - no - horrible person for the longest of times.
In fact, the obituary of a one "Ms. Kitagawa" even correlated with the statement he gave police when confessing to her murder.
Indeed, even now as he thumbed at a post made by the police on Worldbook, Madamare has confessed to many things that correlate with another minor case of a "change of heart".
One involving a past pupil.
Arthur narrowed his eyes, staring at the names involved in the post. "Yusuke Kitagawa" stood out to him, as it mentioned he was still a pupil of Madarame.
"Yusuke, huh…." Arthur murmured, committing the name to memory as best he could.
There was no doubt about it anymore.
Yesterday's events combined with today's research gave Arthur a reasonable suspicion.
The Phantom Thieves were real.
And this Igor…. He wanted Arthur to locate them.
"For what purpose, however?" Arthur thought, raising his head as the sudden ding of the school bell. For a moment the hallway was quiet as everyone realized the time to return home was finally here. Arthur huffed, a determined look dominated his face as he slid his phone back into his pocket. "Fine, Igor. You win."
Taking a step forward, and placing a hand in his pocket, he readied himself to return home for a night of steep research.
"I'll find them."
Nearby, he was unaware of a passive observer within the crowd.
An upside down magazine in hand, she shook her head silently and turned away towards the opposite direction - disappointed in the outcome of her stalking.
The jog to the station was a brisk one.
Even though he had an umbrella to accompany him inside his duffel bag, it was a small one. Small enough that he could easily attach it to a belt and walk unimpeded by the addition. It didn't cover much, just enough to protect his face and upper torso from the steadily-growing rainfall.
His lower half was drenched, however. A fact that disgusted him to no end, especially with the idea he would have to return here with the same soaked shoes tomorrow.
And the day after.
And the day after that.
True, it troubled him. But in the same vein, it would be of no consequence in the end.
What truly weighed on his mind further was - not the Phantom Thieves - but the walk home. The rain seemed to be getting heavier with each passing second. His umbrella would not be enough to protect him from torrential rain.
He shook his head, shaking the umbrella he held off as he brainstormed solutions to his issue. However, unless he had the power to change the weather, he soon realized it was a fool's errand to think up a solution for this.
Students jogged by him, one even bumping into him in his haste to enter the subway.
"This sucks, goddammit!" One student yelled.
"My books are getting wet…" Another complained.
"I'm freezing out here…. Why did we have to change into our summer uniforms NOW of all times?!" Another shouted.
Arthur shook his head, chuckling under his breath.
"Ah. To be so innocent with these issues." He thought, reminding himself that there were far more pressing issues in the world than getting a little wet.
As the students fled further into the station, Arthur stood by the entrance; just out of reach from Kuraokami's wrath. He slid the velcro-belt onto his umbrella before looking outwards, staring up into the sky above. No thunder.
Just rain.
Just a crescendo of the pitter-patters of shoes on wet concrete, the plops of rain hitting the ground, and breeze pushing on nearby fabrics.
Could this be the "Japanese Beauty" phenomena he once read about?
"Beautiful…" Arthur murmured, smiling as he took it all in.
As if on cue, a young man rushes by him in a blitz.. A briefcase in one hand, an umbrella in the other. Arthur watched as he jogged by, stopping only a few feet away to shake off his umbrella.
"How troublesome…" He murmured aloud, setting his briefcase down next to himself as the bristling of his umbrella battled the echoes of the rain outside.
This young man ignored Arthur's brief stare, opting instead to sigh a displeased breath. "Be it God or demon, someone is determined to ruin my week it seems…."
"A-Ahhh!" A soft voice nearby cried out in distress, followed by a loud, obnoxious splash. Arthur, grunting at the sudden, surprising shout, shifted his curious gaze to its source.
As did the brown-haired young man.
For a moment, all they saw were scattered papers, soaking up rain and dirt, and a light pink thermos fleeing the scene towards Arthur. He eyed it a moment, watching it come to a stop at his feet. With an arched brow, he stooped down, scooping it into one hand. Dirt and water caked the exterior, obscuring a decal that looked vaguely Japanese in nature.
His lack of glasses made it all the more difficult to make out, as well.
Curious, he shook it, hearing the faint sloshing of liquid within.
"Shoot…" He heard, catching his attention once again. Looking up from the thermos, he spotted a young woman in a light purple, sleeveless turtleneck on her bare knees, collecting paper after scattered, soaked paper in a haste that - in reality - was doing her more harm than good. Arthur watched her for a moment, unsure if it would do him any good to run and help her.
But as he watched her struggle in the torrential rain, unaided by a passing student, he simply sighed and unfolded his umbrella before jogging to assist her.
Setting down the thermos, and slightly startling the young woman with his sudden presence, he stooped to a knee - and winced at the sudden cold he felt by doing so. He collected each waterlogged, dirt-soaked paper that he could manage before handing them to her with a calmer stature than she managed, to which she just blinked as he handed everything to her - including her thermos.
"Come on, on your feet." Arthur bade her, holding the umbrella over her as he extended a hand towards her.
"Oh my, er, thank you…" She stammered, wobbly accepting his hand. Pulling her up, he gestured forward towards the station. She understood quickly and together the two jogged up to the entrance until they could no longer feel neither the cold nor the rain assaulting their senses.
"Are you alright?" Arthur asked her, looking her up and down. This girl was definitely a Shujin student, as Arthur noticed her short skirt. What puzzled him was her hair - both its style and color. Hair styled in such a way that her forehead was exposed, yet it seemed impossibly fluffy.
"Is that natural?" Arthur wondered.
Her hair, a bright auburn, would put a lot of Irishmen to shame, as well. Something Arthur also noted as being off. Whether it was dyed or if she was an actual natural ginger.
In a way, her head of hair almost resembled that of a cinnamon bun.
She exhaled, having held in her breath during the jog. Looking down at herself, she let out a disgusted grunt as she beheld the now dirt-soaked uniform.
"Yes, I am." She quietly thanked him, glancing down, she saw that her knees were indeed also caked with street-filth. Her eyes narrowed and she sighed. "Uh, t-thank you." She stuttered out as she brought her eyes up to his chest.
"Don't mention it." He turned away. Arthur, pragmatic in nature, didn't wish to associate himself with anyone more than he had already known. It would stoke the fire that was, thankfully, now dying, and he held no particular desire to see people target this new girl for the simple act of talking to him.
The rumors around him would never die out, otherwise.
"Be more careful, alright?" He looked back at her, to which she just nodded silently, not daring to look him in the eye. Arthur noticed the reticence she offered him, but paid it no real mind. He was no stranger to it at this point, his whole trip in Japan consisting of nervousness around him.
Taking a step forward, he heard her begin to shuffle off. The sounds her shoes made on the flooring consisted mainly of squeaks and he could even hear her sigh with acceptance at the horrible turn of events the day had taken. Despite the fact that he didn't want her to be seen with him, his shoulders shrunk slightly at the genuine patheticness she was displaying. Arthur, feeling a small ounce of pity for just turning away from her, dared a glance back at the ginger.
It looked like she was on the very brink of a tearful display.
"Oh boy, I know that game…" Arthur thought, turning about to face her fully.
It was at that moment he realized she didn't even have an umbrella.
It also didn't take a rocket scientist to surmise that she didn't even have a ride home - considering she was taking the train. It was also doubtful that the train stopped right at her home.
Highly doubtful.
Arthur shook his head.
Then, right as she was about to step on the escalator down to her station, Arthur remembered that he possessed an umbrella.
One that he barely needed, since it didn't do its job well for him. The girl was a bit shorter than him, and he knew that she would get better use out of it as a result.
Pushing aside his pragmatism, he called out to her.
"Hey, hey!" She stopped dead in her tracks, a single foot on the escalator. Her eyes widened as she turned to gaze at Arthur. "Why don't you take this?" He offered her the umbrella, jogging up to her and eliciting a cautious look from her.
"Uh…" She said, looking at it and taking a step back from the sudden interaction. "The-the umbrella? You want me to have it?" She asked him, unsure of his intentions.
"Yeah." He shook it in her direction, inviting her to take it. "The umbrella's too small for me and your uniform shows a lot of skin." He informed her, to which she slowly agreed to with a slight nod. She glanced down at herself once again, and was greeted once again by the muck on both her knees and uniform. "Honestly. I'll be fine." Arthur, noticing her hesitation, added in.
It was clear, by the look in her eyes, that she wanted to accept his generosity, but she was very hesitant to do so. Her refusal to look him in the eye and the silence she offered him spoke volumes of what she was thinking as well. But, Arthur managed a small smile here to try and comfort her.
To show her that he wasn't all that the rumors made him out to be.
It worked.
Slowly and hesitantly, she accepted it from him. A gesture that caused Arthur to smile even wider than before.
"Uh.. T-thank you." She thanked him, offering him a weak bow.
"Mind the rain." Arthur said, turning away from her. Satisfied with his actions, Arthur departed her presence without a single glance back at her. But, with every step he took, he could feel her direct gaze on him.
Whether it was surprise or genuine appreciation, Arthur could not detect.
A direct counter to his initial pragmatic decision, Arthur silently hoped that the little act of generosity would not engulf her in controversy just as it had with Ichisake.
"Let no one say pragmatism begets villainy…" Arthur thought, understanding that he had done his good deed for the day.
All the while, the brown-haired young man watched.
A small smile on his quiet, well-mannered lips.
The train ride was actually rather relaxing.
Arthur, despite his lack of glasses, was able to sleuth out an unoccupied seat on his train. Due to the rain, it seemed to be even more crowded than before, with people so close to one another that any slight movement would probably not be taken lightly. Students stood nearly shoulder to shoulder with one another, like sardines in a tin can.
Those who managed to find seats sat calmly by themselves, smug grins displaying publically.
The train ride was spent in absolute silence for the young American, as no one wished to interact with him. Most students on the train were from Shujin, after all. But this suited Arthur fine. He was lost in thought, dabbling deep on his phone into the unknown. The fantastical Phantom Thieves.
From website to website he browsed, learning more and more on this phenomena. News reports, police records, "leaked" identities that were obviously nothing more than attention grabbers, Playtube videos, theories. The internet was abound with information - both correct and not - on the topic he searched for.
"The Phantom Thieves is nothing more than a side project by some bored prankster, high schoolers." One journalist wrote.
"Phantom Thieves. One word: Lah-ame." Another insulted.
"It's clear that Madarame, in his old age, just couldn't handle the guilt anymore…" Another theorized.
A curious mind indeed, Arthur only intrigued himself more and more with each tap on the screen. A mythos, the Phantom Thieves seemed. No one truly seemed to believe in them aside from rogue posts and comments on various outlets.
The most prevalent being the Phantom Aficionado Website.
So many posts existed there, some declaring belief, others demeaning the idea of existence.
And a few others typed, in all caps, insults and hurtful remarks towards others that chose to comment.
The feed was constantly getting updated, and sometimes those insulting remarks were soon replaced by "-DELETED BY ADMIN-", but whoever this admin was, one thing was clear: He couldn't handle the influx.
"Ah. Internet culture. Toxic and funny all at the same time…" Arthur thought, smirking at the vain attempts to censor the trolls.
Reading through the website, he came across a few comments expressing gratitude towards the Phantom Thieves for "Solving their problems."
The oldest being from a woman who, according to her, had a stalker that the Phantom Thieves had apparently stopped. According to the post, he was an ex-boyfriend to the poster and had been stalking her ever since the break-up. At times, he had even broken into her home and vandalized various parts of the house.
"Whatever you guys did, it worked! Nakanohara has agreed to leave me alone once and for all! Thank you! Thank you all so much!"
Arthur rose a brow, the name was unfamiliar to him.
"Nakanohara, huh….?" Arthur murmured, scratching his scraggly chin in confusion. The name was completely alien, but yet it intrigued him all the more.
"Is this another case of a 'change of heart'?"
He continued to scratch his chin, staring at the post for moments on end, curiosity unceasing. He studied each word, and even attempted to find the name of the poster, to no real end as every post was from an anonymous source.
Shaking his head in disappointment, Arthur scrolled down. "I wonder if there is anything else to this one…" He further asked aloud, looking for a reply from the Phantom Thieves.
And there was indeed a reply. A simple reply from an anonymous user - not the Phantom Thieves - posted mere days ago that seemed to have gone unnoticed by most, no less the admin. It was the only reply to that comment, and Arthur - upon reading it - couldn't help himself but blow a raspberry and burst into a fracus of laughter.
"hey bby, how old. .?"
The laughter Arthur was offering was noticed by many, and was met with scorn, fearful eyes, and annoyed glances from all around him. Students, adults, some policemen…
And a lot of Shujin attendees.
Arthur, a tear rolling down his cheek by the outlandish but also somewhat expected comment, just couldn't help himself in spite of the idea of laying low in the public eye.
Slowly, however, Arthur steered towards a chipper chuckle, and from there he opened his eyes, looking around with a red, joyful smile.
"Keheheh…. Jesus Christ…" Arthur murmured, trying in vain to calm himself and ignoring the looks he was receiving to the best of his ability.
Eventually, he managed to quiet down entirely, and soon the public around him forgot the transgression against silence he offered in its entirety.
The PA system buzzed alive, and the conductor's voice was heard.
"Now arriving at Shibuya. Doors will open on the left."
The walk home was eerily quiet aside from the torrential rain.
And desolate.
For the time of day it was, very few people were about on the road. Although easily explainable due to the natural phenomena, it was still enough to send a feeling of unease throughout Arthur's mind.
Some cars passed, and Arthur walked by a few people in his attempts to keep out of the rain. He stuck to overhangs and darted between bus stops and even an occasional phone booth in a personal effort, nonsensical as it was, to stay relatively dry - the existence of which was a great, welcomed surprise to Arthur.
The people Arthur passed were quiet. Silent as the grave, and cold as winter. Some businessmen, some students. Some regular city-dwellers. But they dared not look at Arthur. They shunned him. Ignored him. Even kept their distance.
It was as if even they were frightened of him now.
However, even with the avoidance of the others both physically and visibly, Arthur still couldn't help but wonder exactly why he felt the very scary notion that he was being watched.
Closely.
Dusk was approaching fast, and Arthur knew that he had no reason to stay out past dark. He picked up his walking pace, the apartment complex being only a block away. He continued to dart from shelter to shelter, keeping his pace brisk and swift. He dared not soak himself any further than necessary.
Soon, he found himself at a bus stop and hid underneath its dome. His breathing rapid and irregular from the swift motions he was carrying out; he exhaled briskly. Breathing in, and letting it all go just as quickly.
In, and out. In, and out.
He looked to each side, curious as to who was around. But just as before, there were few people to be found. Some were doing exactly what he had done, finding temporary shelter amidst the seemingly never-ending downpour all around them, while others simply opted to jog with their umbrellas through the seasonal shower in the obviously vain hopes of making it to their pre-decided destinations before the weather could claim more of their summer apparel.
Torrential rain seemed to be a common norm here to them all.
Arthur sighed, tugging at his white collar to let in the cool air. His running and exercise had sweltered him to the point that he was feeling like a cremated corpse. Shuffling further under the glass dome, and shaking his uniform shirt in a clear effort to cool himself off, he opted to take a seat where he was and enjoy the cold weather and the quiet pitter patter of the rain for a moment, deciding to personally embrace the subtle grey-touched serenity of nature's downcasted persona in a rare bout of worriless equanimity - as his entire day was spent in deep, contemplative thought.
It didn't take long for him, however, to grow curious as to the exact time. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved his old-growing phone. With a click of a button, its blank screen was erased, replaced with wolves.
And as if on cue, the phone buzzed.
A buzz that indicated someone had texted him.
A buzz like those before it, the ghost buzzes that had accompanied his entry into Japan since his first week.
But now, however, it could no longer be considered a ghostly buzz.
"What the….?" Arthur mumbled, stopping to gaze wide eyed at his phone, sweat sliding down his forehead.
For there, laying over the wolfpack wallpaper he had loved so much - clad in blue and gold - were words in a stock font….
"Salvation is a lie."
"Sal...vation….?" Arthur read slowly, the word he recognized, associated deeply with a near figment of imagination. Confusion almost colored his eyes completely as he read those words over, slowly at first, then once more in a swift gloss-over "Salvation…" He murmured once again, a feeling of slight dread befalling him.
Those words repeated themselves in his mind. Over and over, again and again. They did nothing but conjure up images of a frightening, bizarre old man and "his" Velvet Room.
But Igor, try as Arthur did, was not a being that could be ignored. Nothing is coincidence, Arthur knew as much at this point. Phantom Thieves? The Velvet Room? Arthur could not explain either.
But he was a smart man.
Seeing was believing.
He believed.
But how could he prove the existence of either?
And, furthermore, what did this message mean?
Who sent it?
His whole screen slowly materialized into a royal blue format.
The wolves vanished.
The words remained.
"Salvation is a lie."
"What… does this mean…?" Arthur asked himself, looking left and right to make sure no one nearby could hear what would probably sound like mad ramblings. "What is "Salvation"? What does this message mean?"
Slowly, he rose a finger to tap the screen. In the quiet he sat within, he could hear his finger connect. The light blips the screen made as he tapped away at the words, slowly trying to dismiss them.
He tapped and he tapped, pausing to see what effect it had before frowning and attempting to slide the words - and their blue background - into oblivion.
"...A lie…?" He asked, giving one last heavy tap onto the screen.
Slowly, with that final tap, Arthur could no longer hear the calming downpour of rain.
It took him a second to process the sudden actualization of silence, as his mind remained focused on the words that caused no end to the chaos within his already stirred mind.
When he finally realized that he now resided in oblivion, Arthur rose his head a moment to garner his bearings.
And what he saw caused him to elicit a heavy-handed gasp.
His samurai duffel bag slipped off his arm, and plummeted to the bench below; landing with a heavy, thick thud and quickly sliding off the edge onto the waterlogged concrete below.
He looked right, and it was the same thing. He shot his gaze left, and it was no different.
The air felt still.
The few people nearby were frozen in place.
Their expressions were unmoving.
Their actions solidified in time absolute.
"What..? What?!" Arthur murmured, jumping up from his bench in a fright and nearly losing grasp on his phone.
Indeed, the world was now frozen in place.
Every last sound gone, every single movement halted entirely…
Arthur blinked, terror slowly rising from the depths of his heart.
"H-hello?" Arthur called out, taking a step out from underneath his shelter. Indeed, he could no longer feel the rain pouring from the sky but instead, he could feel the droplets frozen in the air splash against both his bare skin and clothing. He stared straight ahead, and he could see the individual droplets in his vision. Almost like ornaments hanging in the air. He shook his head, pivoting in place to call for further aid. "Hello?! Somebody?! What is happening?!"
Nobody responded.
Nothing but the echoes of his own voice.
"Is this madness?!" Arthur thought, looking around in a vain attempt to locate help.
Seconds passed as he took everything in. Every last droplet, every single individual… These seconds felt like minutes to Arthur, almost like an eternity. However, soon in his moment of terror, in his unwelcome solitude, a presence was felt.
The feeling of an unseen observer from before returned, and the fright that came with it as well.
He could hear a deep, distorted, yet somewhat familiar chuckle nearby. Arthur spun towards its direction, frightened by both his sudden situation and sudden break in the silence.
And there, standing mere feet from him, he could see the outline of a person within a blazing blue flame. A flame that grew bigger and brighter the longer he stared at it..
The two stood there a moment, staring at one another in a mere silence. Not even the flames crackled, but instead just burned away in quiet.
Arthur, his breathing becoming erratic and his mind beginning to break down at the sight, rose his hands up slowly to his waist, unsure of what to do or how to act. But the burning man? The burning man took a single step forward, to which Arthur immediately reacted by stepping back, raising his hands even higher as he shouted. "Stay back, dear God!"
The fear in Arthur's voice was impalpable.
But the figure complied, halting its advance from there on, instead opting to raise a burning hand towards Arthur. This figure, Arthur realized, was beginning to form a definite outline, but one that Arthur could not yet make out, especially with his sudden chaotic thinking.
However, he thought he saw an ancient kabuto bearing what looked like a crucifix atop the skull.
"Thou's path shall soon divergeth from thine norm." The figure suddenly said, breaking the quiet that both struggled to vanquish. Arthur, suddenly recognizing the voice, squinted his eyes and took a hasty step further away. "Tomorrow shall bring revelations and, by our Lord, God's, decree, thou shalt begin our journey into a Hell that burns brighter and hotter than all we've experienced thus far…. I am thou, thou art I…" The figure continued, echoing within the quiet all around.
Arthur blinked, realizing quickly the voice to be his; albeit extremely distorted. Arthur exhaled, leaning forward to gaze in depth at the figure. The burning man suddenly dropped its arm to the side and the fire began to crackle, frightening the already slightly unhinged Arthur further and further.
And then, in a glimpse of a moment, the flames subsided.
The outline disappeared.
For a moment, all that remained of the atronach was a young man similar in appearance to Arthur.
Similar in every way even down to the clothing and facial hair.
In that flash, Arthur stared at himself.
And he stared back.
A sadistic, evil grin on his lips.
And piercing yellow eyes burning into Arthur's soul.
Arthur screamed aloud, turning tail and fleeing his doppelganger's presence.
Post-Chapter Author's Note
Edited by Frozen Foe and Kabuto S. Inferno.