Cw: non-canon typical violence (specifically violence involving organs ending up in places they shouldn't be), character death.

Akira could do nothing but watch his rival in horror as Akechi's tale came to an end. Most of the other customers had left by now – the café was practically empty aside from a bored-looking barista with earbuds who was slowly cleaning the dishes while jamming to some tunes, and an elderly woman nibbling at a croissant while she read the newspaper.

"I'm sorry – your father is the one who hired you as his pet hitman?!"

Akechi shrugged, expression bland. "It's not like he knows my true identity – I'm saving that for the grand finale. Besides… even if he did, using his own flesh and blood like that is hardly the worst of his sins."

Akira's lips thinned. At the bare minimum, this man had knocked up a woman Akechi had implied was barely legal, covered up Wakaba's death and stolen her research, committed various acts of corruption and blackmail, and when that failed, ordered his enemies' deaths. That he would use his teenage son as the weapon for said deaths… no, it wasn't a huge stretch at all, considering the rest of his deeds.

The frizzy-haired teen frowned. "There's one thing I don't get. Why would you agree to my deal if you're just planning on revealing everything to the world anyway?"

Akechi drew closer as a wicked grin crossed the other boy's face. "Tut, tut. Now I know you're not listening to me. Remember what I said about timing? My benefactor needs someone to take the fall for the Vanishing Incidents by a certain date if he's to achieve his goals. Having a patsy who's both willing and ready to take that role, who's arrest will also bring the Phantoms down with him? It'll kill several birds with one stone."

Akira stroked his chin. "… So, you just need me to sit pretty in jail until you get all your ducks in a row?"

Honestly, if Aizen was done and dusted by November's end, Akira might actually be willing to go along with Akechi's scheme. Sure, his friends would be upset, but… it's not like they'd be separated forever. If the detective was right, the Conspiracy was inevitably going to self-destruct even without their involvement.

The brunet hesitated. "… Something like that, yes. Don't fret – your name won't be besmirched forever."

Akira shrugged. "It's a bit late for that. Criminal trash over here, remember?"

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, a flash of inspiration suddenly struck him. If he could get Akechi to agree to his idea, everyone's goals could be achieved, with no more trickery or bloodshed. There were many reasons why Akechi had been cagey with his benefactor's name, after all – one of them was that he'd be an excellent target for the Phantoms.

Why not come to a compromise?

"Let me help you." Akira leant forward, heart hammering in excitement. "My Shikai would be perfect for a motherfucker like that – I can shove his face into all his sins again and again until he has no choice but to crack. Then you can drag him straight to a police station, and he'll reveal his crimes with his own mouth to the entire world."

Akechi slouched in his chair, arms crossed as he narrowed his eyes. "Fuck off, Kurusu. He's not your enemy to destroy – he's mine. I've dedicated years of my life to this plan, and I won't tolerate interference from anyone, not even you."

"But-!" Akira gritted his teeth, clenching his fists. So what if Akechi had spent all this time slowly leading his father to his doom? The situation had changed - he could get everything he ever wanted without spilling another drop of blood. Why wouldn't he want to just cut to the chase and finish this?

"Leave it." Akechi's Reiatsu shuddered minutely as a warning note entered the other boy's voice. "When he goes down, I'll be the one to pull the trigger, no ifs or buts."

With a huff, Akira settled back into his seat. The air buzzed with tension, the two boys' previously calm Reiatsu flaring with irritation. Whatever peaceful equilibrium that had fallen over them that afternoon was well and truly gone.

It was Akechi who broke the stalemate as the detective rose to his feet. "Come on. It's getting late and we're nowhere near Shibuya. Let's go."

Akira's response was a nod and a grunt. After exiting the café, Akechi hurried him to a side street and tore open a Garganta the second the close was clear. Their journey back to Shibuya passed in complete silence, but was simultaneously cacophonously loud with unspoken words. It wasn't until the teenagers stepped out onto the laneway by Untouchable that the quiet came to an end. Akira's feet splashed into a puddle as he set foot on the ground, and looking upwards, he saw grey skies as a light mist of rain started to settle onto his skin. For a moment, he wondered how long it would be until the rain was replaced by snow, but he shook the thoughts from his head. Winter would come when it was ready.

"See you later." Akira sighed, adjusting his bag. "I'll call you after the cultural festival has passed."

He'd gotten halfway down the street before Akechi's voice suddenly echoed against the alleyway's walls.

"… If I had met you sooner, then perhaps we could have walked a different path."

The light dribble had turned into a deluge, rain slicking the detective's hair as droplets trailed down his chin before plunging to the earth. The city's neon lights refracted in the water, casting Akechi into their glow. The boy almost looked ethereal amongst the dancing colours, like an angel plucked from the heavens and cursed to wander this wretched world.

Without another word, Akechi disappeared in a flash of shunpo.

…..

Okumura Kunikazu sighed, sipping a glass of chianti as he watched the rain pour down outside his Aoyama apartment. Perhaps a lower-class ingrate would have found the dazzling city lights beautiful, but any joy Kunikazu had once felt when he saw the magnificent sight before him had faded long ago. He'd seen it frequently enough for it to become rote, the way most of the luxuries of wealth did when they became a daily event instead of a rare indulgence.

(Not that he was introspective enough to recognise that fact, unfortunately - the only way he knew how to fill the hole in his heart was with more, more, more.)

Instead, the CEO's thoughts lingered on his latest meeting, and frustration boiled away in his stomach. He'd been planning on announcing his political campaign to the world this week, but after this latest glut of controversy surrounding Okumura Foods, his advisors had hemmed and hawed before reluctantly admitting he should delay his grand reveal until the negative press died down a bit.

Kunikazu's hand tensed, knuckles white against his glass. Taking a deep breath in and out, he tried to relax. For the umpteenth time, he reminded himself to be patient. The CEO's doctors had warned him to avoid stress, and while it was an inevitable part of both business and politics, there was no need to stir himself up into an unnecessary tizzy. This was nothing but a minor setback - the public was fickle, after all, and would move on to the next big thing by the week's end. With Haru set to wed Sugimura's son, his ascension to becoming the most powerful man in Japan was an inevitability.

While his daughter had voiced her unhappiness with the plan, it was simply a sacrifice she'd have to make. Besides, if she was still unhappy after a month or two with his new son-in-law, he could always contact Shido and arrange for the man to Vanish. In fact, Kunikazu might do that anyway – he might as well avoid passing Sugimura's clearly flawed genetics on to his grandchildren. He was sure one of his more competent underlings would graciously accept to wed Haru, even if her reputation had been sullied by a prior marriage. In return for her services, the CEO would even pick someone who'd be happy for Haru to take a more active role in the business - that should settle any of her objections.

As his foul mood began to abate, Kunikazu felt his muscles relaxing, and the businessman decided it was now actually worth heading to bed. As he got undressed, he paid no heed to the soft breeze drifting through his balcony's open door. That would prove to be a fatal mistake. The man had only just deposited his glasses onto his nightstand when something rustled in the corner of his room. Kunikazu didn't even have the time to blink before something wrapped around his throat and hoisted him into the air with strength beyond any man. Gargling, the CEO desperately scratched at his neck, fingernails sliding over something as his heart began to beat erratically in his chest.

With a rush, Kunikazu suddenly flew backwards, agony lancing through him as he smashed through the glass door leading to his balcony. Rain soaked into his burning skin, the tiles beneath him quickly turning red as the blood seeping from the lacerations made from the shards of glass jutting out of his broken body mingled with the water.

"Haru… help me…" The CEO wheezed, weakly reaching towards his house as stars entered his vision.

"Tch. Even if I hadn't drugged her, do you really think she'd come to your aid after that disgusting stunt you tried to pull?" The voice was mocking, and while Kunikazu couldn't place it, it sounded oddly familiar.

As the darkness of the stormy night blotted out the city lights, the figure hoisting Kunikazu by the throat finally appeared in reality. The man was young, his shaggy hair painted dark by the bad weather, and a black bodysuit covered him from head to toe. What stood out more than his attire though was the eerie, bone-like mask obscuring his face, with the exception of his sinister, glowing eyes.

Horror ran through Kunikazu as a rusty taste entered his mouth. "You… you're a Phantom, aren't you?" It made sense – the violent maniacs had endorsed Medjed's attack on Sugimura, some even speculating that they were behind it. "You're here because of Haru…!"

"Hah!" His assailant pulled back his head and laughed. "A Phantom? Please, don't be so fucking naïve. Did you really think Shido would ever tolerate you forming your own political bloc and stealing his votes?"

Kunikazu's heart skipped a beat, aching in his chest. No – surely not. He was Shido's ally! He'd given his fellow politician more money than most plebians would ever see in their lifetime! This can't be happening - it can't be!

The mocking joy faded from the White-Masked Killer's face as his voice turned unsettlingly calm. "This, though? This is for Haru."

The CEO was in too much agony to even scream as the monster slowly dragged his claws across his abdomen, and his intestines fell to the floor in a sloppy heap. Pushing the rapidly fading Kunikazu over the edge of the balcony, the hand clamped around the businessman's throat finally let go.

He managed to live just long enough to feel it when he eventually hit the pavement.

…..

Goro watched Okumura's broken body impassively as he swept his rain-slicked hair out of his eyes. The fall from the top of the penthouse apartment to the pavement below was long indeed – the CEO's corpse was in so many pieces they probably wouldn't even realise half his organs were missing until poor Haru accidentally stumbled across them.

The White-Masked Killer shrugged, quickly dismissing any sympathy he felt for the girl. There were plenty of orphans out there who hadn't just inherited enough blood money to last them three lifetimes, and given what Okumura was trying to do to her, she was better off with him dead anyway. It'd be a hell of a shock, but she could certainly afford a good therapist.

Still, while Okumura's physical body had been dealt with, Goro still had some tasks he needed to complete up here before he finished off the man's Whole. Walking back into the apartment, he fetched the bucket of blood-red paint he'd procured the other day and dipped his fingers into the vibrant red liquid. Turning to the wall, he began to write.

JUSTICE HAS BEEN SERVED

- THE PHANTOMS

Taking a step back, the assassin surveyed his handiwork before nodding. He'd practised mimicking Takamaki's handwriting, and while a skilled graphologist would certainly be able to tell the difference, the SIU Director would never let any of them anywhere near this case. The average layman would be none the wiser, and that was all that mattered.

After their inactivity following Kobayakawa's death, the Phantom had slowly begun to slip from the general population's mind - there was nothing decisively linking them to Sugimura, after all. Kurusu's arrest wouldn't generate nearly enough buzz (and election votes) if something's didn't reignite the public's ire against the vigilantes. Hence, Shido had gotten the idea to kill two birds with one stone.

As the analogy entered his mind, Goro's thoughts drifted back to his lunch with Kurusu that day. Shaking the images from his head, he left the apartment and went back out into the rain.

It really wasn't anything personal.

…..

None of the Phantoms noticed Okumura Haru's absence from school. It was the cultural festival, after all – Shujin was flooded with both students and their guests, and everyone was roaming the halls in an attempt to enjoy everything the festival had to offer. It was no surprise Akira and his friends didn't pick up that a certain face was missing from the crowds.

The black-haired teen couldn't help but gawp in amazement as he, Ryuji, Ann, and Futaba explored the school – unfortunately, Uryū couldn't make it, and Makoto was too busy with her student council duties to spend time with the group. The high school had been transformed from a monotonous prison into a world of colour and wonder – Akira had thought his old school's cultural festival was grand, but Shujin's blew it straight out of the water.

When lunchtime arrived Ann cajoled them into going to Class 2-D's Maid Takoyaki for better or worse. Definitely for the worse, in Ryuji's case. The only thing left on the menu had been 'Russian Takoyaki', and he'd made the logical but unfortunately incorrect assumption that the one coloured bright red was far too obvious to be the rigged one. Alas, in keeping with the generally shoddy demeanour of the store, it was, and the blond had been forced to run off to get some water.

"Damn." Futaba whistled, clearly impressed as she watched the former track star bolt. "It looks like Skull's still got his moves!"

Before he could reply, the maid at the store's front raised her voice - apparently, someone else had been dumb enough to visit their class's stall. "Hello! We've got-"

"I'm fine, thanks." A familiar male voice cut her off, and furrowing his brow, Akira turned around.

His suspicions were confirmed when he set eyes on Mishima. The second he took in the boy's countenance, a jolt of alarm ran through him. The other teen's skin was wan, and his expression somewhat queasy. Internally, the Shinigami groaned. Oh, great – has he eaten or drunk something dodgy again?

(In hindsight, Akira wished it was something that trivial.)

As he reached their table, Mishima cut straight to the point. "We need to talk."

Akira could do nothing but blink in alarm as the shorter teen grabbed his arm with surprising force, and without further ado, dragged him out of the classroom.

"Mishima, what-?" He half-exclaimed, but the other teen ignored him, looking left and right before hauling Akira into an empty classroom.

"You need to see this." The smaller boy swallowed, hands trembling as he shoved his phone towards Akira.

Narrowing his eyes, Akira scanned the device - Mishima had opened up a news article of some sort. The frizzy-haired teen's mounting confusion quickly warped into cold-blooded horror, however, when his eyes landed on the title.

THE PHANTOM MENACE RETURNS – OKUMURA FOODS CEO BRUTALLY MURDERED

WARNING: The following content may be distressing for some viewers.

Okumura Kunikazu, CEO of Okumura Foods, was found dead early Monday morning near his Aoyama residence. Initially believed to be a suicide, police investigation quickly revealed the truth was far more disturbing.

After two months of relative inactivity, the vigilante group known as the Phantoms have slowly faded from the spotlight following the death of Kobayakawa Takuma, former principal of the controversy-riddled Shujin Academy. While some believed the Phantoms had decided to end their reign of nigh-supernatural terror after unintentionally causing the man's death, others had their doubts.

"Truthfully, I don't believe this is the end of the Phantoms." Teenager superstar Akechi Goro – a detective investigating the Phantoms' case – announced in an interview with Good Morning Japan. "I doubt their hunger for retribution has been sated even with this latest setback. They will strike again, and judging by the manner in which each of their attacks has escalated, I'm worried Kobayakawa-san's death may just be the beginning…"

While many disparaged the Detective Prince's words – particularly members of the 'Phandom', a group of dedicated Phantoms supporters – it seems Akechi's premonition was spot on.

Okumura Foods, the corporation behind the popular fast-food chain Big Bang Burger, has recently been embroiled in a scandal regarding their workers' rights. Criticism of Okumura Kunikazu has been widespread, but no group has been quite as vocal as their disdain for him as the Phandom. On the Phantom Aficionado Website – a web forum devoted towards the Phantoms – Okumura recently topped a community poll about which person the Phandom would like to see the Phantoms target next. It seems in the end, the Phantoms decided to give their followers what they wanted.

Upon investigating his apartment, a significant quantity of blood was located in his bedroom, and the door to his balcony had been smashed open. Most damning though, was the message written on his wall…

Akira swallowed, sweat soaking his palms as he scrolled down. The second he saw the picture, bile rose up to the back of his throat, and he covered his mouth with his hand, gagging. Blood-red letters dripped down the CEO's walls, an all-too-familiar signature at the bottom. The article continued, listing quotes from some outspoken Anti-Phantoms critics, but the words blurred together as blood rushed through Akira's head. Shaking, he returned the phone to Mishima, before collapsing against the walls, static ringing in his ears.

"… Hey." A gentle hand landed on his shoulders, and as Akira snapped back to reality, he was greeted by his classmate's soft brown eyes. "I know this wasn't you, okay? It must be the same bastards who set you up with Kobayakawa, I just know it!"

Akira could do nothing but nod mutely – if he opened his mouth, he thought he'd be sick.

Frowning, Mishima took a step back. "… Would you like me to get Takamaki and Sakamoto? They're in on things too, right?"

Slowly, Akira shook his head. "… Sorry. I just need a moment to get myself together."

The smaller teen heisted for a moment before nodding. "Alright then. I'm gonna go and play damage control on the site. If there's anything else I can do to help, just let me know."

Akira faked a smile, lips twisting weakly, but the second Mishima left, it dropped off his face. Shoulders sagging, his head hung down in shame. He slammed his eyes shut in an attempt to drown out the festivities surrounding him, but the article was blazed onto the lids of his eyes. Guts churning, the Shinigami hugged himself weakly, guilt choking him like hands around his neck.

He might not have pulled the trigger, but Okumura's death was his fault.

…..

"I've told Sojiro that I need a new motherboard for my PC. That should keep him out of Leblanc for a couple of hours." Futaba announced flatly, head resting against Akira's shoulder.

Her announcement received a series of mute nods. Perhaps it was because they were still on the train, or perhaps it was because of the dire direction the afternoon had gone. Akira would bet on the latter.

He'd contacted the other Phantoms the second his hands were stable enough for him to type – suffice to say, the jovial atmosphere of the cultural festival had quickly turned to one of horror. They'd gathered as soon as they could, Makoto feigning that she had a stomach ache to get out of her student council duties. Judging by how pale she looked, Akira wasn't surprised the teachers had all believed her.

The brunette looked up from her phone, lips drawn in a thin line. "I've told Uryū. He'll meet us at Leblanc."

Eventually, the train came to a halt, and the gaggle of teenagers trundled over to their refuge and hideout. The Quincy had beat them to the punch – he was leaning against the side of the café, arms crossed. His head flicked towards the other Phantoms as they rounded the corner, and Uryū approached the group, giving them a curt nod.

"Forgive me for asking the obvious, but I assume none of you had anything to do with these latest events?"

Akira looked away, stomach twisting, as Makoto let out an irritated sigh. "Of course not. Let's save this discussion for when we're inside."

Trembling, he opened the door, ushering the others in before promptly shutting it behind him. With the lights off, shadows stretched across the café floor, painting the usually warm coffee shop in an unnaturally cold darkness. The scent of roasted beans lingered in the air, but it was faint, and there was no trace of life nor movement – Leblanc was as still as Okumura's heart. Akira wearily slid into one of the booths, and even as everyone else's eyes slipped in his direction, he remained quiet, lost in thought.

In the end, it was Ryuji who broke the silence. "Dammit!" He hissed, slamming his fist down on the counter. "Why us? Why now?! We haven't done anything for months, and yet some bastard still decides to stitch us up?!"

Akira flinched, nausea rising in his stomach. It's because I told someone who I KNOW is a remorseless killer how much I hated him.

"The timing is awful." Makoto murmured, leaning against the bar as she crossed her arms. "Haru asks us to change her father's heart, and then this happens barely several days later?"

Ryuji's eyes widened. "Whoa – you don't think she did this, right?!"

"Of course she didn't!" Ann's nostrils flared as she glared at the blond. "Do you really think Haru is the sort of person to do something this horrible?!"

"No, but…" The former track star deflated. "It's a hell of a coincidence, ain't it?"

Because it's not. It's not a coincidence.

"If I may." Uryū cleared his throat. "Considering Okumura-chan had both the motive and means to commit this crime, I don't think the police would have jumped to pointing the finger at the Phantoms unless they could conclusively rule her out."

A grim silence settled over the café at his words. Futaba opened her mouth, clearly about to say something, when Leblanc's doorbell suddenly chimed.

"We're closed." Akira called out, not even bothering to look over his shoulder.

It was then though that a strangled gasp escaped Makoto as she stared at the newcomer with shock. "Haru?!"

Heart skipping a beat, Akira whirled around. Standing in Leblanc's doorway, silhouetted ominously against the slowly setting sun, stood none but the heiress herself. Despite the poor lighting, he could see just how pale her skin was, along with her red and puffy eyes. Haru's shoulders were not stooped in grief, however, but taut with defiance.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't hand you all over to the police." The brunette's voice was even, but the coldness in her words cut Akira like a knife.

"Wait!" Ryuji gawped, snapping upright. "You don't think we actually did this, do you?! We didn't wanna get involved at all, let alone kill him!"

"And why should I believe you?" Haru pointed out, her usual softness replaced with steel as her burning glare landed on Akira. "You were hostile towards my father well before I ever asked you for help."

It was the straw that broke the camel's back. The churning maelstrom of guilt that had been raging inside Akira finally grew too big to bear, and the frizzy-haired teen burst into tears as something inside him finally shattered. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" He choked, warm tears and snot dribbling down his face as his shoulders quaked. "I'm sorry…"

If Akira had been cognisant enough to pay attention to his surroundings, he would have noticed everyone staring at him in shock, Haru included. He did notice it, however, when Ann enveloped him in a hug and Futaba passed him a handful of tissues.

"No… if anyone should be apologising here, it's me." The burning fire in Haru's voice faded, and the rage seeped from the girl's posture as her expression turned defeated. "I… I think I always knew it couldn't be you, no matter what the police said. I'm just… I'm just so, so…!" The brunette's voice wavered, and this time, it was her turn to fall apart.

As she too burst into tears, Makoto approached her side, and Haru practically collapsed onto the other third-year. As the orphaned heiress sobbed quietly into her friend's arms, Akira mopped up the evidence of his breakdown while Ann rubbed his back sympathetically, and he gave her a wobbly smile in return. While guilt still cloyed in his lungs, he knew he was being pathetic – the frizzy-haired teen wasn't the one who had just been orphaned, after all. What right did he have to cry when Haru was standing right there?

Eventually, the Okumura heiress stepped away from Makoto, some of her prior resolve returning. "Please… I know you keep your secrets for a reason, but if you know anything about my father's death, you have to tell me."

Ryuji sighed, defeated. "Honestly, we've been asking ourselves the same damn thing."

"Actually…" Futaba cleared her throat. "I was gonna suggest it before we all started roleplaying a straight woman's reaction to 'The Notebook', but why don't we call Makoto's sis? She might know what's up."

"Sae-san is a prosecutor working for the SIU, and is currently investigating the likely culprit of this crime." Uryū explained to Haru as Makoto retrieved her phone. "She's also aware of our… extracurricular activities, for lack of a better word."

While Sae didn't pick up when Makoto initially called, the student council president had barely put down her phone before it began to buzz again. After checking the caller ID, the brunette's eyes widened and she quickly put it on speakerphone.

"Sorry – considering what this is probably about, I wanted to be somewhere private." Sae apologised. "Are you with the others?"

Makoto nodded, before remembering her sister couldn't see her. "We're in Leblanc. We… we just got the news about Okumura."

"Look, don't blame yourselves for this, okay?" Sae's voice was firm. "This was probably always going to happen even if the Phantoms never existed."

Akira's head snapped up, a spark of shock cutting through his blanket of grief. "What do you mean by that?"

The prosecutor sighed. "… I don't particularly like the idea of discussing an active investigation with outsiders, but I suppose I understand why you want answers. To be blunt, if it wasn't for Okumura's lack of connection to Isshiki's Cognitive Psience research, he would have been my chief suspect for the mastermind of the Vanishing Incidents."

A series of shocked gasps echoed around the café as the blood drained from Haru's face. Internally, Akira was reeling. While he knew Okumura was a bastard, he'd assumed the man had just been awful in a typical way. Akira had thought the CEO deserved to get slapped in the face, not brutally murdered before having his body chucked off a balcony. If Sae was right though…

"W-what makes you say that?" Haru stammered, voice weak, and Akira felt a wave of sympathy for her. First, her father had been slaughtered like an animal, and then he'd barely even been dead for a day before she found out he was potentially culpable for mass murder.

He wasn't sure if Sae mistook Haru for one of the Phantoms, or if she simply assumed they wouldn't be having this conversation in front of anyone not in the know, but either way, she continued without missing a beat. "Over thirty per cent of the Vanishing Incidents can be traced directly back to him – while it was only one or two people at first, over the last four months, nearly every victim was either one of his business competitors or a dissenter among his ranks."

Uryū furrowed his brows. "Hold on – given he's not responsible for the actual incidents, Okumura was likely hiring the true culprit's services. Why would they get rid of him when he's presumably giving the Conspiracy a significant amount of revenue?"

"This is just speculation, but I believe it could be because he's been attracting undue amounts of attention. He'd make a good scapegoat, too – whatever crimes the Conspiracy can't pin on the Phantoms, they'll likely blame on him. The dead can't defend themselves, after all. On that note, before you ask, there's no trace of Okumura's Whole anywhere."

Breath catching in her throat, a shell-shocked Haru slowly lowered herself into one of Leblanc's booths. Makoto patted her shoulder in commiseration as she joined her friend's side. Meanwhile, Akira pursed his lips, and he could see similar frowns among the rest of the Phantoms. No one was particularly surprised about the news about Okumura's soul. At least it didn't look like Akechi had turned him into a Hollow.

"… If it's any consolation, I've now got full access to Okumura's records." Sae continued after a moment's hesitation. "If I crosscheck his contacts against the remaining suspects Isshiki gave me, I'll probably be able to narrow the culprit down to a small handful of people. This is just a rough estimate, but we may be able to take them in for questioning by November's end."

The rest of the Phantoms perked up at the prosecutor's words.

"Hell yeah!" Ryuji crooned, pumping his fist. "Finally, those bastards are gonna get what's comin' for them! Kick their ass, Sae-san!"

"… I won't because that's assault, but I appreciate the sentiment, I suppose?" Akira could vividly picture Sae wrinkling her nose. "Apologies, but I've got to go – I'm technically in the middle of an investigation right now."

"Thanks, sis. I'll see you later." Makoto smiled, and while she was still a bit wan, the light in her eyes was genuine. Hanging up, the brunette turned to Haru, crimson eyes troubled. "Are you okay?"

"I… I'm not sure." The heiress replied, somewhat dazed. "I thought I wanted the truth, but this… this is beyond the pale. That father was involved in something so ghastly… I can barely comprehend it."

"Yeah… I guess I'd be feeling pretty fucked up myself if I found out my dad was involved in shit like that." Ryuji nodded sympathetically. "He always treated mum and I like garbage, but…"

"But organising the systematic assassination of your enemies is in an entirely different ballpark compared to being belligerent and overbearing." Uryū finished, arching a brow.

Leblanc grew quiet yet again, but it was less the nail-biting tension of before and more of a melancholy air. Rising to his feet, Akira quickly fetched everyone a glass of water – he had no desire to risk Sojiro's high-quality beans while he was in a mood like this. Once Haru finished her drink, her expression still distant as she processed the day's revelations, Makoto gently squeezed her hand.

"Here, how about I take you home?" The brunette then scrunched her nose as she remembered what had taken place in the Okumura apartment just the other night. "Or perhaps somewhere else you find safe?"

"C-can I spend the night with you?" Haru asked, voice wavering.

"Of course – I'm sure Sae won't mind." Makoto's expression softened. As the girls rose to their feet, the student council president turned back to face the others. "I'll see you tomorrow."

After the third-years left, the other Phantoms slowly began to rise to their feet. While the dread that had embraced them before had gone, no one was exactly feeling social for obvious reasons.

"Man." Ryuji sighed, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "I can't believe that in the end, this was just a really shitty coincidence."

Akira nodded, but as the others left, he remained in his booth, steepling his fingers as he glared into the distance. Now that his shock and horror were beginning to abate, a new emotion was slipping into the void they'd left behind. Namely, rage.

Reiatsu rising, the frizzy-haired teen bristled. Okumura had died an alarmingly violent death mere days after Akira confessed to Akechi how much he hated the man – feelings that were promptly shared by the detective. The Shinigami wasn't a fucking idiot – while Okumura may have been doomed regardless, the suddenness and unnatural brutality of his murder was no fluke. Disgust ran through the boy as his fists tightened. He couldn't fucking believe it. For a moment, Akira had thought he'd finally found the humanity lying underneath Akechi's monstrous skin.

He should have known such a thing didn't exist.

Fury burned like an inferno in his chest as he marched up into the attic, ignoring Morgana's greeting. Grabbing his Substitute Shinigami Badge, Akira left his human body. "Keep an eye on this." He instructed the Mod Soul, gesturing to his collapsed corpse. "I'm going out."

"What do you mean, you're going out?! I heard you arguing all the way from up here – are you really sure that's a good idea?" The cat plushie scrambled away from had slowly become his workbench, shooting his roommate a concerned glance.

Akira ignored him, however, and opened the window before vanishing in a flash of shunpo. Leaping to the top of the nearest high-rise, he closed his eyes and spread out his senses. While the streets below him glowed with the energy of millions upon millions of people, it didn't take him long to find his quarry. While Akechi could compress his Reiatsu enough to blend in with the crowd, he couldn't change the fact that it was stable like a lightbulb compared to the sea of flickering candles around him.

The detective was to the east – somewhere past Aoyama-Itchome if Akira's estimates were accurate. The Shinigami darted across the city, the world blurring around him. His rage fuelled him like an engine as the concrete surrounding him was replaced by plant life, before quickly turning back into asphalt and stone. Honing in on his foe's location, the teenager's fury only grew.

As Akira finally closed in on Akechi, he slowed his pace to a predatory slink and cast a Kyokkō over himself – the spell had fooled Akechi in the past, and could most likely do so again. There were none of the neon lights and bright signs that dominated Shibuya in the suburb he'd found himself in. Instead, the buildings were exceedingly solemn - men and women in suits filled the streets, and not a single smile was to be seen. Approaching Akechi's location, Akira's brows arched as he found himself face-to-face with a ginormous police station.

Ah – that explained things. They had to be in the legal district. Little wonder everyone looked so miserable - the only people here would be overworked lawyers climbing the cutthroat ranks of their profession, and hapless citizens at the mercy of the justice system. Akira was suddenly extra relieved that he'd cast a Kyokkō – while Sae was probably still investigating the Okumuras' apartment, on the off-chance she wasn't, running into her right now would be disastrous.

Despite his anger, Akira wasn't stupid enough to raid a police station. Instead, he waited like a serpent for a mouse to crawl out of its burrow. Eventually, the teenager's patience was rewarded. When Akechi finally walked out of the station, Akira resisted the urge to punch the fake little smile off his disgusting face. The frizzy-haired teen's eyes drilled into the Detective Prince as the unaware boy rounded the corner, taking a shortcut down a side street that presumably led to the train station.

The second Akechi left the main road, Akira flashed forward and grabbed him by the arm. A strangled sound of surprise escaped the detective's throat as Akira pulled him to the top of a nearby roof. Unfortunately, the Shinigami didn't manage to maintain the advantage of surprise for long. Reiatsu burst from Akechi as he pushed his rival off him and Akira's Kyokkō shattered into shards of multicoloured light under the weight of his spiritual energy. When he saw who'd caught him off guard, Akechi's eyes narrowed into slits, but Akira beat him to the punch.

"You… I can't believe you." The black-haired teen's voice was a guttural growl. "I confided in you, and this is how you repay me?!"

Brushing the dust off his peacoat, Akechi sneered. "Get over yourself, Kurusu. Do you honestly think I killed Okumura for your sake? Don't make me laugh – he bit the hand that fed him, nothing more, nothing less."

The boys circled each other, two predators in the twilight. Clad in his dark Shihakushō and bristling with rage, Akira looked like a wraith of the night. Despite his clear fury, however, his eyes were cold slits of ice. Conversely, Akechi was perfectly poised, his every movement dripping with grace. If it wasn't for the truly awful grin that had spread across his face, any onlooker would surely think that he was the warrior of justice, instead of the servant of a monstrous evil.

"Perhaps your little confession made it a tad more enjoyable than it would have been otherwise…" Akechi purred. "… But you're colossally overestimating yourself if you think I'd ever kill someone because they upset your precious little sensibilities. You're really not that important to me, Kurusu."

Akira snorted, nostrils flared as his hand tightened around his Zanpakutō's hilt. "Oh, yeah? Then what the hell was the deal with the paint?!"

Akechi shrugged nonchalantly. "It was just a small publicity stunt." The detective's expression cooled. "Besides, why does it matter? You promised to confess to everything, didn't you? What difference does it make if this death is attributed to the Phantoms as opposed to myself?"

The complaints died in Akira's throat. Somehow, he didn't think 'because it hurt my friends' feelings' would cut it here. Still, as he reflected on it, that was hardly the only thing about Akechi's deception that rankled him. "… The more you demonise the Phantoms, the more it makes our past targets look like they're victims. Kobayakawa was one thing – we weren't exactly working together then – but this is just beyond the pale!"

His rival merely shrugged. "Unfortunately, it's a bit late to save your lofty reputation, and has been for a while. Besides… despite the faux-outrage, I sincerely doubt anyone is that upset by Okumura's death. They were all clamouring for you to 'deal' with him, were they not? The masses might condemn his murder as horrific, but I'm sure plenty of them are celebrating behind closed doors." Something dark then entered the detective's eyes. "Anyway, aren't you being just a tiny bit hypocritical here?"

Akira's eyes narrowed to slits. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really? You're smarter than that, Kurusu." The brunet's crimson eyes glittered with malice as he stepped towards the other boy. "The people I've killed… they've all had dreams, ambitions, families, but you're not particularly upset about any of their deaths, are you? No." He laughed cruelly. "You were happy ignoring them because I was useful to you. The only reason you're pulling a tantrum now is because Okumura's pretty little daughter cried into your arms. You don't give a shit about his murder at all – you're just outraged you have to deal with the fallout."

Akira gawped, desperately scrabbling for a reply, but nothing came out of his mouth. Because no matter how much the Shinigami desperately tried to justify his actions, deep down inside, he knew the detective was right. He'd actively gone out of his way to shield a man he knew was a killer all so he could get him to help control Akira's inner Hollow.

At his rival's silence, something awfully cold crossed Akechi's face. "… No complaints? Good." The detective then shot him an utterly smarmy smile without a trace of sincerity to be found in it. "Don't ever manhandle me on my way home again."

Turning on his heel, Akechi disappeared in a flash of shunpo. Akira didn't bother pursuing him, the righteous fury that had bolstered him dispersing into the wind. He'd been so scared of becoming a monster, that he failed to realise his efforts to change his fate had only ensured that he turned into one anyway.

The cold breeze bit into the teenager's bones as he stood on the rooftop for what could have been an eternity. Eventually, he somehow managed to pull himself away and silently crawled back to Yongen-Jaya. If he was away for too long, Morgana might panic and summon the others, and the last thing Akira wanted to deal with at that moment was his friends.

They deserved so much better than him.

…..

Akira slipped quietly through his window, landing silently on the attic floor. Morgana was currently in his body, lounging on his makeshift bed as he read a magazine. The frizzy-haired teen supposed the Mod Soul had probably had to take his place during dinner time - Sojiro would probably come looking for him if he didn't show up.

(As he thought of his guardian, the churning knot of emotions in Akira's stomach grew even heavier.)

Morgana's head snapped in his direction as the Mod Soul realised he'd returned. "Oh, finally. I was beginning to think you were Hollow chow." He must have then caught sight of Akira's expression, as the good-humoured light in his eyes faded. "… Hey, are you alright? If you ever need to talk about anything, I'm all ears."

"I think I just need to be alone for a bit." Akira sighed, knowing there was no point pretending everything was hunky dory. "Mind staying with Futaba tonight?"

Morgana nodded, brows furrowed. "I can, but… are you sure that's a good idea? You look dreadful, Akira."

The Shinigami lied without a moment's hesitation. "Yeah – I think I just need some rest. I'll be fine."

Thankfully, even if the Mod Soul had figured out he wasn't quite telling the truth, he didn't call Akira out on it. Swapping bodies, Akira slumped down on his bed as the cat plushie took one last hesitant look at him before jumping out of the window.

Staring at the bland ceiling, a dinner he didn't eat settled uncomfortably in his stomach, Akira's thoughts spiralled into a dark, incoherent vortex. No matter how hard he tried to stop the storm inside him, however, he couldn't stop the furious winds, and eventually decided to simply embrace it. This was just karma for his actions, after all. As the hours went by, the evening purples changed to an inky darkness which eventually grew lighter and lighter, and Akira rolled onto his side, glazed eyes staring into the distance.

The words he said to Tasogare no Dorobō when they fought in the panopticon of his heart echoed in his mind - how he'd never tolerate evil, not even his own. Hah! What a bold statement from someone who was in the midst of teaming up with an unrepentant mass murderer to make. Little wonder Akira's Zanpakutō spirit had been so callously dismissive of him - he'd betrayed the justice he valued so highly the second he'd decided solving his Hollow problem outweighed dragging the Conspiracy to its knees.

A sudden blaze of determination then ignited in his chest, and Akira sat up, prior exhaustion banished. He'd spent the entire night wallowing in self-pity, but it was hardly like he was the victim here - that was Haru, and the myriads of other people Akechi hurt. Quite frankly, he was being pathetic. While he couldn't undo the past, he could at least attempt to fix his mistakes, even if it meant revealing to the entire world just how much of a fuck-up he truly was.

(Even if it meant being alone and unloved again.)

Hands shaking, the teenager opened up his contacts and scrolled down to Sae's number. He swallowed as the ringtone droned on, for a moment dreading she'd ignore him, but eventually, she picked up her phone.

"Kurusu-kun, it's five in the morning. Just… why?" Sae groaned, voice groggy.

"There's something I need to tell you, and just you." He didn't want to fuck up her investigation even more by alerting the other Phantoms - he'd let the prosecutor decide if she wanted to get them involved. God knows his decision-making skills hadn't been reliable lately. "Do you know a good place to meet?"

She must have picked up the seriousness in his voice, and when Sae replied, she sounded far more alert. "How about Kitanomaru Park? It's south of the courts. I can meet you there once I'm dressed."

Akira's mind drifted back to yesterday. While most of his mad dash to Akechi was nothing but a blur in his mind, he did remember racing through a garden of some sort. "Sure. I'll see you there."

As he hung up, Akira moved to his suitcase and slipped into his Shujin uniform like it was a prisoner's garb. While he knew he was walking towards the gallows, despite his fear, he also felt a strange sense of peace.

This was all going to be over soon, for better or worse.

…..

While the sky had lightened considerably, the sun still hadn't crept up above the horizon by the time Sae joined him. Perhaps if they were meeting at a different hour in different circumstances, Kitanomaru Park would have been beautiful. The bench Akira had plonked himself down on was on the side of a path lined by massive maples, whose leaves were dappled in autumn golds. However, the dull dawn light muted their colours, and the bitter chill in the air was almost as cold as the wedge of ice lodged in his heart.

"Kurusu-kun." Sae greeted with a nod of her head, looking professional as ever. If he hadn't already known she'd been hauled out of bed at some ungodly time in the morning, he never would have been able to guess.

"Hey." The teenager sighed, unable to meet her eyes as she sat down next to him. Guilt welled in his stomach, and for a moment, Akira didn't even know where to start. Taking a deep breath in and out, he supposed he should begin at, well, the beginning. "I overheard your conversation with Wakaba."

He didn't need to specify which one. Surprise flickered over the prosecutor's face, but it disappeared as she furrowed her brow. After a moment's hesitation, Sae gave his shoulder a quick pat. "Look… if you're worried about your friend, I'm not sure you need to be. I've been keeping an eye on Akechi-kun, but I haven't noticed any suspicious behaviour from him or sensed his Reiatsu in any place it shouldn't be."

Akira's guts twisted as bile rose to the back of the throat. "The only reason you haven't caught him doing anything suss was because I warned him you were on to him."

Sae's hand dropped from his shoulder. "… Pardon?"

He grimaced, curling in on himself. As much as he was dreading this conversation, there was no going back now. "I knew Wakaba was right the second she said Akechi was the White-Masked Killer. Their build, their Reiatsu... it's the same."

"Hold on a moment. If Akechi's Reiatsu matched the killer's, I would have -!"

"He conceals it well, but his 'default' Reiatsu is just a partial version of the White-Masked Killer's. I'm sure if you met the latter face-to-face, you'd notice the same thing." Akira rubbed his forehead. "That's not what I'm here to tell you, however. Just… know that I'm sorry, okay?"

"… Kurusu-kun. What did you do?" There was an edge to the woman's voice, and he knew he was no longer dealing with his friend's sister, but with the cutthroat prosecutor of the SIU.

"It was just after we found out about Aizen's plans." The frizzy-haired teen confessed, the words tasting like acid on his tongue. "I knew I'd be useless if I couldn't control my inner Hollow, and, well, Akechi clearly knew how to use his. So, we made a deal. He'd teach me how to wrangle my Hollow, and I'd take the fall for the Phantoms and the Vanishing Incidents at November's end." As Sae stared at him in shocked silence, Akira continued. "That was when I told him about you – partially to sweeten the deal, and partially to make sure you didn't stop him before I got what I needed."

"My god, Kurusu-kun!" The silver-haired woman reared backwards, eyes wide in horror. "What the hell were you thinking?! Why on earth would you do something, so, so…?!"

"I know I was being stupid, okay?!" He roared, rising to his feet as a wave of wretched fury swept over him. "I know I fucked up your investigation, hurt the people I promised to protect, and helped a remorseless killer! I know all that, okay?!" He finished, voice cracking into a sob.

"I was going to say dangerous. Though, yes, it was idiotic as well." The prosecutor pinched her brow before taking a deep breath in and out. Recollecting herself, a blank mask of cold professionalism crossed Sae's face. "Did Akechi tell you anything about the Conspiracy? Where did you go for your training? Sakura-chan would have noticed it if it was in Shibuya. What do you know about his boss?"

Akira flinched at the barrage of questions. Still, the interrogation was better than her shouting at him, even if that was exactly what he deserved. "We trained in one of the Conspiracy's Cognitive Psience research labs. I'm not sure where it is – he always took me there via a Garganta – but I'm pretty sure it's not in Tokyo."

"What were they studying there?"

"Akechi, mainly." He mumbled. "Something about replicating his Shikai's powers – it can control Hollows and drive them mad."

Sae blanched, before rubbing her temples. "Christ. That's the last thing we need…"

"I dunno how much progress they've made, but Akechi didn't think they were much of a threat." Akira shrugged, knowing it was a small consolation at best. "While he didn't talk about the lab much, he did let slip some things about his benefactor. No names, but…"

"Tell me everything." Sae drew closer, eyes shining like a hawk who'd just spotted prey.

"He's Akechi's illegitimate father. The asshole knocked his mother up, then abandoned her once she stopped being useful to him. It's why Akechi's working with the Conspiracy – he wants them to trust him, so he can betray them at the most dramatic moment possible."

Sae's reaction to Akechi's past was much the same as Akira's had been – namely, baffled horror. "That's Akechi-kun's reason for killing all those people?! Some childish revenge fantasy?!"

Akira nodded. As sympathetic as he'd felt towards the Detective Prince in the thick of the moment, that's what it was, wasn't it? Childish. His rival was nothing but a kid with powers he should never have had throwing an overblown tantrum.

"Yeah, basically." The black-haired teen sighed. "Back on track, I'm pretty sure Akechi's father works for the government – he's mildly spiritually sensitive, and funded Wakaba's research to learn more about the World of the Dead. Also, this might be nothing, but Akechi mentioned the letter 'Shi' at one point before backtracking."

Akira was about to ask if that meant anything to Sae, but his question was answered as the woman's skin instantly paled. "Shit." She hissed, biting her lip. After taking a moment to calm herself, she turned back to Akira. "I won't thank you considering the circumstances, but at least some good has come out of this catastrophe." Sae's eyes narrowed. "Do you still need Akechi's help in regards to your inner Hollow?"

"No." Akira shook his head. While he hadn't made anywhere near as much progress as he wanted to, as Makoto had pointed out before, he was out of the danger zone.

"I need to go to work – lay low for a few days, don't contact Akechi, and don't do anything reckless, okay?"

Miserably, Akira nodded, feeling like a small child receiving a scolding.

Sighing, Sae walked away. She cast one last glance over her shoulder at him, and while Akira wasn't exactly sure what was racing through her mind, he doubted it was anything positive. He never found out, either. Turning on her heel, Sae disappeared in a flash of Shunpo, leaving Akira standing alone in the park.

…..

As Sae stormed into her office, to say she was still reeling from Kurusu's confession would have been an understatement. Impotent rage bubbled in her stomach. She couldn't believe it – after all this time, she thought they'd developed something close to a rapport, yet he'd been actively hindering her investigation for months! The woman let out a deep, ugly sigh. I suppose that despite everything, he's still just a teenager who's in over his head. She'd made plenty of terrible decisions herself at that age, and that was without the knowledge of a potential apocalypse looming in the background.

The fury sapping from her posture, the prosecutor placed her briefcase down on her desk and opened up her laptop. Dwelling on her anger wasn't going to do anyone any good. Anyway, she had a hunch that no matter how furious she was at Kurusu, her feelings paled in comparison to how angry the teenager was feeling towards himself. As she booted up her computer, Sae's thoughts drifted towards another teenager who'd betrayed her in a far more egregious way. Akechi-kun… Kurusu's revelation about the boy's true nature might not have chilled her as much as the identity of the Conspiracy's mastermind had, but that didn't mean it hadn't felt like a slap to the face.

For a moment, she sat at her desk, lost in thought. She remembered the day Akechi had joined the SIU. Her co-workers had immediately treated him with scorn, dismissing him as a mere child playing detective. While she'd had her reservations, Sae had reached out to him and given him a chance – after all, she knew damn well what it was like to be looked over because of her age and gender. She'd taken him under her wing, and Akechi had surpassed her every expectation. And yet, for all this time – two whole years! – he'd been playing her like a fiddle.

Sae bristled, glaring at her screen. It was not anger that plagued her, however, but sheer and utter hurt. While she wouldn't have classified Akechi as a friend, she had trusted him enough to dismiss Wakaba's claims out of pocket. The woman ran a hand through her hair and huffed. That had probably been his angle all along, hadn't it? He'd seen her sympathy and had taken advantage of it. When Sae looked back at their interactions with her newfound knowledge, it was just so obvious. Akechi had been trying to lead her astray for the entire Vanishing Incidents investigation – he'd crafted a fantastical narrative blaming the Phantoms for his crimes, one which she probably would have bitten into wholeheartedly if not for her spiritual powers.

No, enough of this. The silver-haired woman squared her shoulders. Akechi would face his comeuppance, but right now, she had more important fish to fry. There was only one suspect who had a connection to Okumura and matched the attributes Kurusu had described. Unfortunately, it was the one man Sae had desperately hoped was innocent.

She grimaced, swallowing, and typed Shido Masayoshi into Google. She was instantly regaled with a myriad of news articles. Politician Shido Masayoshi runs for Prime Minister, Shido approval ratings at 70%, Shido Masayoshi vows to steer Japan into a new era… it was ridiculous. Almost overnight, the man had risen from being some fringe conservative Sae had just dismissed as a run-of-the-mill overly patriotic nutjob, to the most popular politician in Japan.

Her headache increased. The hardest thing about this case wouldn't be proving Shido's crimes, but convincing her colleagues to go along with her investigation to begin with. The man was the primary candidate for Prime Minister, for crying out loud! No one would take her seriously if she suggested someone of his status was involved in corruption of this scale, and even if they did, a decent proportion of her co-workers wouldn't want to arrest him anyway. Japan was at its heart a conservative country, and the law enforcement industry was even more so than most. Plenty of people on the force – many in high-ranking positions to boot – had made their fervent support of the politician rather clear.

Sae amended her search, tacking 'justice system' to the end. The first thing she needed to do was to figure out which of her colleagues she could actually trust with this, and anyone who was openly connected to Shido was a no-go. Perhaps she could ask Himura – he hadn't looked too pleased with all the political chatter in the office of late, but his standing had taken a huge hit since he dropped out of the Kaneshiro investigation… Scratching him off her mental list, Sae frowned. Perhaps she needed to go higher and take her concerns straight to the Director. He was a hard taskmaster, but while he'd made his dislike of the current government clear, she hadn't heard him singing accolades about Shido either. If she could get him onboard, he'd be able to shut down any dissent she received…

Suffice to say, when she idly clicked on the first link that appeared, Sae was blindsided when she was immediately greeted by a photo of the Director standing right by Shido's side. The article itself was irrelevant – some puff piece about Shido's support for increased police funding – but it did nothing to make the image of her boss shaking hands with the man behind the Vanishing Incidents less disturbing. The silver-haired woman's breath caught in her throat as a sudden, horrific idea occurred to her. What… what if the Director was part of the Conspiracy? It was a ludicrous idea – he was the head of the SIU, for god's sake – but at the same time, it made a strange amount of sense. It would explain how Akechi had managed to escape detection for so long, for one.

Biting her lip, her mind raced a mile a minute. Before she did anything, she needed solid evidence that the Director and Shido were collaborators – a lone photo hardly counted. But how on earth would she get that? It was hardly like he would be having clandestine meetings with Shido in the dead of the night. Besides, even if she could spend all day stalking her boss, for all Sae knew, she was being paranoid. Akechi would retaliate the second he realised Kurusu had double-crossed him - she didn't have enough time to waste it pouring over a connection that might not even exist. That wasn't even getting into the fact that if Shido got voted in, any hopes of him facing justice would be thrown out of the window.

It would be far easier to uncover Akechi's corruption and reverse-engineer his connection to the Director, but alas, the same reason she had this information in the first place was the same reason she couldn't do that. The detective would notice it the second she started seriously digging into his past, and if the Director was truly on his side, that would be game over not just for Kurusu, but Sae herself.

"Dammit!" She hissed, slumping back in her chair, but froze the second her eyes landed on her laptop.

Sae's heart skipped a beat. It was a ridiculous idea, and if she got caught she wouldn't just be fired, but charged with a criminal offence. At the same time, if she managed to pull it off, she'd get all the answers she needed. Still… while it was one hell of a gamble, the prosecutor couldn't see any other way forward. Sae swallowed, nervous tension fluttering in her chest as she pulled out her phone. While the silver-haired woman had never called the girl herself before, Makoto had given her all of the Phantoms' contact details just in case. Sae resisted the childish urge to fidget as her mobile rang and rang, but eventually, the call was picked up.

"Mrghth… who is this, and why are you doing this to me…?" Sakura Futaba mumbled blearily over the line. "It's six in the morning. If you're getting attacked by a Hollow, just let it eat you."

"It's Niijima Sae." She introduced herself. "Apologies for the early call, but I need your help. How do you feel about doing a job for me?"