Makoto was woken up from his nap by the lovely sound of the school bell. He stretched his limbs and yawned openly, drawing another rant from Mr. Ekoda. Paying no mind to the lecture being hurled his way, he packed up his things and made his way to the stairs with an extra pep to his step.
After a now combined 14 hours of sleep he felt totally refreshed, with the previous night's events basically vanishing from his memory. That guilt, or shame, or whatever the hell it was simply passed like bad gas. All he could worry about now was catching Tanaka's upcoming weekend bargains in the luxury of his frosty air-conditioned room.
"Yo, transfer student! What's up?"
He turned lazily towards the voice. A fellow student emanating an undeniably sleazy aura greeted him with a casual wave.
The stranger raised an eyebrow. "Hey, what's with that wary look in your eye?"
Makoto continued to stare blankly at the boy. His whole vibe was off, it was like Junpei's but in all the worst ways.
"A-Anyways, I'm Kenji Tomochika. We're in the same class. Your name's Makoto Yuki, no? The teachers have yelled it out so many times that I think everyone's got it memorized by now."
Makoto felt his lips begin to curl into a smile. He enjoyed the notoriety that he'd been cultivating as of late.
"Nice."
"Nice, huh? I bet you're the type of dude that doesn't let rumors get to them."
Kenji grinned before walking up and leaning in close to him.
"And speaking of rumors… Iori told me you and Takeba are pretty close. Is that true?"
Makoto paused for a moment. Close was too strong a word. Would "acquaintance" fit the bill? Neighbor? He mulled over their relationship and tried to come up with the best way to describe it.
"We battle demons together," he said with full sincerity.
"Damn, that's deep bro. So it's like, you guys help each other face the struggles of life, huh?"
Makoto briefly considered correcting him but he supposed that what he said was at least technically true on some level.
He shrugged. "Something like that."
"Man, that's crazy. I guess it's good to have people like that in your life. Though me personally, I'm looking for someone with a little more experience if you catch my drift."
"A sage," Makoto nodded in approval.
"Wha..? A sage? Nah man, like, a chick to share my life with!"
Kenji glanced at his phone before turning back to him. "Say, wanna grab some ramen after class? I actually know an amazing spot not too far from your place. Shouldn't be too packed right about now."
Makoto waved him off, not looking to spend more time with this dude. Kenji struck him as the kind of guy to yap about himself and fish for compliments all the time.
"Nah, I'm flat broke," he lied.
"It's cool dude, I'm buying," Kenji said with a cheeky grin.
"Hell yeah."
The two teens settled down for the day at the strip mall's premier eatery, Hagakure Ramen. After grabbing seats at the counter, Kenji ordered two special bowls for them and got right down to business, slurping down a hearty portion of the rich broth.
"Phew, now that's what I'm talkin' about!" Kenji nudged Makoto with his elbow. "Sooo, was I right or was I right, man? Ain't this the best broth you ever had? They gotta be spiking it with something. There's nothing else in the city that tastes this good..."
Makoto nodded along, feigning interest.
"...and there's also this rumor that the bonito flakes are actually sourced from..."
"...but then he started experimenting with dry aging chimpanzees..."
His eyes began to glaze over from the dude's incessant chattering.
Kenji chuckled as he caught himself. "Heh, sorry, I geek out a little bit whenever I eat here."
"Cool."
"Ah, you're into this stuff too? Man, I'm liking you more and more by the minute."
"I don-"
Kenji leaned and cut him off. "But about you and Takeba being so close… Damn, man. You just transferred here! Guess I can't blame you though, a man's gotta be aggressive in this day and age."
"Right," Makoto said absentmindedly, giving up on rebutting anything and instead focusing on his piece of chashu pork.
"Hey, let's hang out again next time you get a chance. I gotta tell you all about my secret plan with you man, you're gonna flip when you hear it!"
As Makoto prepared his next canned response he felt an odd chill run down his spine. A lone word began to permeate his mind: Magician. Over and over again, just "Magician." Was he suddenly craving a performance? He turned and looked Kenji in the eyes.
"Man, what's with that serious look on your face?" Kenji asked with a chuckle.
"Show me a trick."
"Oh, these are the guys I was talking about earlier."
Makoto and Junpei found themselves at the Paulownia Police Station at Akihiko's behest. A stern looking officer was now staring them down while the boxer did his best to give them some credibility.
"That's Makoto over there. He leads our strike team and will be in charge of purchasing equipment moving forward," Akihiko explained.
He turned to his juniors. "This is Kurosawa-san. He helps keep our squad well equipped."
"Oh, by the way." He reached out and handed Makoto a 5,000 yen note. "This is from Ikutsuki-san."
Makoto gladly took the cash, but try as he might, he didn't remember who this Ikutsuki-san was. Welp, wasn't his problem.
"Woah, are these our war funds? Aw, you shouldn't have," Junpei said as he greedily eyed the bill.
"You can't fight empty handed so grab whatever you want. Kurosawa-san here has connections so he can get pretty decent stuff and deliver it discreetly to our dorm."
Akihiko paused for a second before adding, "Granted, he does charge a fee."
"Of course I do. Nothing in this world is free," Kurosawa stated matter-of-factly.
"I realize that," Akihiko acknowledged before turning back to the juniors. "I'm off to catch up on my PT, you've got my number if something comes up."
With that, the third year took off.
Minutes went by without anyone saying a word. Their leader and the officer just stared at each other, waiting for the other to speak. Makoto could almost make out a bead of sweat beginning to form on Junpei's brow. His fellow junior glanced at Kurosawa and Makoto a few times before awkwardly adjusting his cap.
"Eh, just get me whatever looks good. I forget that I had…ah… things today. So uh, see ya!"
Now alone, Kurosawa and Makoto continued staring blankly at each other. Neither of them seemed eager to take the lead.
"..."
"..."
"..."
The officer eventually yielded and simply motioned for Makoto to follow him to the back of the station. Now huddled into a cramped evidence room, he began to show off a significant amount of contraband and confiscated belongings. Batons, knives, clothes, even the odd bow or two. A few premium looking swords were neatly wrapped up in evidence bags.
Kurosawa spotted him checking them out and nodded. "With the right paperwork and a bit of palm greasing, those can be yours. It'll cost you a significant sum, though."
"I've got a blank check," Makoto said as he continued browsing. It wasn't remotely true, but it sounded pretty cool in his head.
He squatted down to check out the rest of the items before picking out a few pairs of high end boots. They looked about the right size and he recognized the brand as a pretty reputable one.
"Good pick. Well insulated and durable," Kurosawa nodded approvingly. "Hard to fight for long with the wrong footwear. The set will run you about 20 grand."
"Alright."
He continued grabbing a few more odds and ends, amassing them into a growing pile.
"All this is gonna be about 300 grand. You sure you're good for it?"
Makoto nodded as he finished organizing his collection. "Kirijo-senpai's buying. She can pay once you drop it off."
"Ah, Miss Kirijo. No worries then. Just remind her that this is a cash only 'business.'"
"Yep."
Makoto returned to the dorm and spotted the tech scion herself relaxing in the lobby.
"Oh, you're back. Did you find everything we needed at the police station?"
He nodded. He had indeed bought just about everything they'd need in the short term and then some. Boots, armor, clothes and a hearty assortment of other useful goods.
"Perfect. Kurosawa-san usually drops by around 10 o'clock at night. If you wish to go to Tartarus tonight the equipment should be ready by then."
He nodded again. He wasn't too sure how to broach the subject of payment. It felt easy enough to pawn everything off on Kirijo back at the station, but now that he was standing in front of her he couldn't help but feel a bit hesitant.
"You look like something's on your mind. Is everything alright?"
Maybe if he played it off cool it'd be alright.
"Yeah. Say, you got about 300 grand on you?" He asked casually.
The woman did a double take. "300 grand? Yuki… what's going on?"
"Kurosawa's gonna need it."
"You're not serious," her eyes practically begged him to say it was all a joke.
"Ah, he said cash only though."
"Yuki! Did it… Did it not even cross your mind to ask me before forcing this cost on me!?"
He shrugged. "I don't have your number."
"I-" She stopped, not sure how he couldn't understand how unreasonable he was being. "It's common sen-!" She stopped herself and took a deep breath. "Next time… just come back to the dorm or find me at school to check first."
"Sure."
She motioned him over. "Your phone. I'm going to add everyone's numbers to avoid another fiasco like this in the future."
He gave it to her, a bit surprised with how forcefully the woman grabbed and began pounding in new contact details.
"There. I'll… figure something out for Kurosawa-san's bill," she said as she handed back the teen's flip phone.
"Sweet."
Kirijo glared at him. "I hope you're ready for a long, long expedition into Tartarus tonight. We will be testing your purchases thoroughly."
Makoto Yuki, the serial snoozer, finally found himself stuck with a detention slip after genuinely conking out for an entire class period. He put the blame squarely on the Kirijo brat for having him climb a dozen floors on his own to "clear the path" for his fellow juniors, but Mr. Takenozuka didn't seem receptive to his excuses. The first week of school immunity seemed to have passed and he doubted he'd be able to take penalty-free naps again any time soon.
He didn't even have the consolation prize of loot like during his previous expedition. Mitsuru had ordered him to bring it all in to repay his "outstanding balance," which he'd hardly made a dent in. Such was the price of fashion, he supposed.
Sighing, he made his way to the outdoor track to report to his "supervisor" and do whatever chores and other crap that they had for him. Once outside he waved to a middle aged man who he presumed to be the coach.
The man spotted him and offered a friendly wave in return. "Oh, aren't you the transfer student from Ms. Toriumi's class?"
"Yep," he said, ready to get this over with. It was just an hour so it wouldn't be so bad. Probably just trash pick up on the track field or something like that.
"That's one fierce look you've got in your eyes, sport. You must be here to sign up for track, no?"
"Spot on, coach," he said, handing him the detention slip to sign. The man just signed it without looking and handed it back to him.
"Great! Go on and introduce yourself to your new team, I'll get the other paperwork sorted out for you."
"Sounds good."
The two of them headed over to the bleachers and got introductions out of the way.
"This here is Makoto Yuki, he's our newest member," the Coach said.
Makoto offered a small nod to the fellow teens. One of the girls offered him a friendly smile as she stepped forward.
"Welcome aboard, Yuki-kun. I'm Yuko Nishiwaki. I'm the team manager so if you've got any questions you can send 'em my way."
"Got it."
"You're a second year too, no? Just call me Yuko then."
"Bet."
The coach looked over the group. "Anyone else you should know…? Ah, Miyamoto!"
A fairly athletic looking teen quickly perked up. "Yes!"
"This here's our future team captain. He's a helluva runner and does well in competitions," the Coach explained. "You two are in the same class, right? Miyamoto, keep an eye on the new guy."
"You got it," Miyamoto said.
"Makoto… You're the guy that went out with Takeba on the first day of school and always takes naps in class, right?"
"That's me."
"Man, you're practically a celebrity. Anyways, I'm Kazushi Miyamoto. You've seen me around, right?"
"Nope."
"Ouch man… Way to bruise my pride. Everyone knows who I am."
"Not me."
"Alright, I get it man. Hey, you better not think you're getting the easy treatment just cuz you joined mid-season."
Kazushi paused for a moment. "Wait, didn't you get detention today?"
"Me? Nah."
"Huh, must have remembered it wrong."
"Yeah."
He stuck out his hand. "Well, as long as you work hard I think we'll get along."
Makoto moved in to dap him up while Kazushi locked in for a handshake. The result was a jumbled mess but Makoto just rolled with it. As their hands made contact, another chill went down his spine, and yet another word filled his mind: Chariot.
Chariot? Well, Chariots were used for races and Kazushi ran races, so he supposed that the thought wasn't so strange. He pondered for a moment while Kazushi became more and more embarrassed, his fingers still caught in the butchered handshake while Makoto and the entire team stared at him.
"Long nose."
"What?"
"Nevermind," he said, letting go.
These sudden chills and word surges, was this what the velvet geezer was referring to? Well, this seemed simple enough then. All he had to do to get stronger was hang out with people for a bit. Per-
"Is it really that long?" Kazushi asked, interrupting his train of thought.
"Huh? Nah. You're good."
"Seriously, you're not just saying it because I wanna hear it, right?"
"Yeah," Makoto said, taking a moment to check his phone. 5PM, almost time for his shows. "Gotta go."
As he walked away, he could still hear the track captain asking everyone else for reassurance.