Author's Notes: Good welcome, everyone! The first week of the new year is upon us and we're going to christen 2024 with another chapter of the best Persona 5 fic on the internet! Whatever comes this year, you can all be assured that this train will keep going strong, and we're not stopping until we cross the finish line.

And speaking of not stopping, we've got the whole gamut on offer here. We've got our leading lady making another appearance, because how can we not? We've got Ryuji and Ann doing Ryuji and Ann things, we've got more Yusuke and Madarame excellence, and we've even got a fresh appearance of a fan favorite! Place your bets now, ladies and gents, as to who you think that might be!

First, some replies to my wonderful reviewers:

UltimateCCC: Good times, I agree. And even better ones to come. Thanks for the review!

And with that, let's get this wheel turning! With so much to do this year, we have to start it off strong, and that's exactly what we're going to do. Read, review, enjoy! See you all on February 3rd!

Dimes on the Dog

Akira rose as class ended on Monday May 20th. It had been a busy day, and with everything else going on it was looking to be a busy week. The midterm grades had been posted and his classmates vacillated between admiring his brains and figuring he'd cheated somehow. The result was the same either way – people still talked behind his back and skirted him in the halls – but it was nice for the subject to change a bit.

On the topic of change, Akira walked to the teachers' lounge and waited respectfully across the hall. Ushimaru-sensei scowled down his nose in passing and a few other teachers gave him dirty looks, but Akira kept his face bland until the person he wanted went in through the far door. He waited a few minutes and then went in and, before he could be told to leave, said, "Kawakami-sensei. Could I have a minute?"

She turned in her chair at her desk, professional but wary the same as the other teachers near her. "Sure. What is it?"

Akira approached. "I wanted to thank you for your phone call the other day. It helped smooth things over with where I'm staying."

She relaxed a bit. "Oh. Of course, I'm glad it helped, but are you all right being there? Is your domestic situation a problem?"

"No, nothing serious like that. It's more that Sakura-san and I don't see eye to eye on everything. The results of this test were a gauge to see how serious I was, and it helped to know that I did well."

"I see. I'm glad to hear that, but you were the one who earned it. Good work."

She sounded sincere, and more than that she smiled without the weary resignation or professional indifference he'd noticed when they first met. She looked better that way.

"Did he pass on my other message?" she went on.

"Yes, and thank you for that as well. I was having a bad day too so I probably could have handled that situation better."

"Either way, I was responsible for my side of the interaction."

"I'll accept your apology if you accept mine."

"Deal."

Akira bowed respectfully and left, but as he went through the door he was bumped into by a familiar third-year. The short stature and the sneer were the same as they had been at the library on Akira's first day.

Akira caught himself easily, watched the student pass by and laugh derisively to his friends, and then smiled Joker's smile.

He stuck his head back into the staff room and asked, "Kawakami-sensei, are the grades posted for each year?"

"Yes, as of this morning."

"Would Niijima-senpai's be up? And if so, where are they?"

She watched him, then smiled with amusement and a hint of mischief. "The third-year floor, down the hall from the student council room."

"Thanks." Akira left and went up the stairs, ignored the whispers and mutterings of his senpai around him as he found the exam scores and located Niijima Makoto on the roster. Then he proceeded to the student council door and knocked firmly. Again, then again and again.

Someone opened it, growled as they saw him and then tried to shut it. Akira slipped a foot in the way and grabbed the door, and while this measure of strength might have gone differently before he'd become a Phantom Thief and started working out, now it was less of a contest. He shoved the door open and stepped in.

"You're not welcome here," the second-year doorman hissed.

"I'm a student in good standing, regardless of what you've heard," Akira answered. "Tell me why I can't be here."

"Who is it?" someone else asked.

"I'm just here to speak to Niijima-senpai," Akira said loud enough to be heard.

The nearby meeting stalled. Apparently the three committees had gotten together, all with their key members and executive staff present. Niijima-senpai, along with every person in attendance, turned and looked at him. Akira met those red eyes and smiled with a wave.

"Why did you need to speak to me, Kurusu-san?" she asked, sitting straight and looking great. The sunlight coming through the window nearby really set off her skin.

More whispers and mutters went around the room. Akira ignored them and replied, "I saw your test results and wanted to congratulate you. Seventeenth out of all the third-years. I only got forty-nine out of the top fifty, but you're in the top twenty. That's impressive."

"You interrupted them to say that?" the student by the door sniped.

"Should we not appreciate intellectual achievement, especially in our senpai?" Akira answered.

One of the committee members scoffed. "Are you sure you're not here just because she's a girl?"

Akira smirked and cast his voice across the room. "Some girls are worth this much attention."

More than one set of eyes widened in surprise or indignation. Niijima-senpai's wasn't one of them.

"Well, you came here to congratulate her and you have," the doorman noted in a caustic voice. "Time for you to leave."

Akira straightened, turned, and stared at him as though seeing him for the first time. "Who are you?"

"I'm in your year, and I got fifty-first place."

Akira blinked and let that sink in, looking at the guy he'd apparently ousted from some important perch in the top fifty. The room was quiet until Akira said, "Oh," with a shrug and turned his back to the student, not one inch closer to the exit and not caring as the glared daggers turned to spears.

"Thank you for the kind regards, Kurusu-san," Niijima-senpai replied. "I don't know that anyone has done that before."

"Then let me be the first. Congratulations. That's a great achievement and I'll be working to reach that high myself."

She smiled. "Is that so? I look forward to seeing if you can get there."

"I will. Just watch me." While Akira could have looked at her and into her eyes all day, the tension from the other students was rising even higher. "That's all I wanted to say," he continued, "so I'll excuse myself. Congratulations again, and enjoy the rest of your day, Niijima-senpai."

She mouthed the phrase as he said it and nodded in reply. Akira topped that off with a polite bow, deeper than any he'd given to anyone at the school yet, then straightened, turned and left.

The mutters didn't even wait until he was out of the room to start, but he didn't turn back to them or look at any of the third-years who watched him with veiled disgust if not outright hostility. He didn't respond to a single one of them and took his time going to the stairs and heading for the exit.

Morgana said from his bag, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Joker's smile was back on, but before he could reply he encountered Okumura-senpai on the way down, nodding politely as he passed. She smiled brightly but then looked around him in puzzlement.

She'd heard the voice of someone other than Kurusu-kun on the staircase – she was sure of it – but there wasn't anyone else nearby. Who had that been?

7 7 7

The next order of that day was to hit up Yusuke. Akira purchased a backpack and filled it with bottled water and packaged food, Ryuji had bought some second-hand clothes while Ann brought soaps and shampoos and a new SIM card for his phone. Together it was what he'd need to live incognito until the beginning of June.

Since this was Yusuke's first day as one of the Thieves, they hit up a beef bowl place Ryuji knew about and took Yusuke to a corner park and ate with him.

"How're you doin'?" Ryuji asked.

Yusuke paused in his eating to reply. "Bored. This has given me a lot of time to think, which means I have been working to stay occupied."

"Is that what that is?" Akira asked. Next to Yusuke was the cardboard tube he'd brought with him when they met up.

"It is."

Ann handed him the SIM card for his phone. "Here. It's a temporary plan and text only so that should keep Madarame from tracking you. It's good for a month." She grimaced. "I had to act like an illiterate tourist to get it, and then they tried to gouge me on the price."

Yusuke bowed and replaced the cards right away. "Thank you for the work you've put into all this. I'll pay each of you back."

"We'll be discussing that later," Akira noted. "But if you're bored, why do you want to wait so long? We could probably deal with Madarame sooner, and then you wouldn't have to live like this."

Yusuke answered, "There are reasons. First, it's good to be reminded what losing everything is like, to know that I can survive if things change. It's not the first time it has happened so I wanted to know whether I could still do it. Second, it's personal and vindictive, but fitting. You see, Madarame stole two paintings from me. The first was the one you pointed out at the art gallery, Ann-san, and the second is an even better work that I completed a month or so before I met you. That is what he'll be unveiling at his exhibition in June. By staging the upset at that time, I want to take back the event that should have been mine."

Ryuji hocked and spat. "Son of a bitch. He did the same thing to those other guys, I'm sure."

"Yes, I heard about them. One of them, someone who drives a cab now, even spoke to me but I didn't want to believe it." Yusuke chuckled grimly. "Didn't want to. What a childish desire. I eventually did, though, and I saw the signs elsewhere. That's where my anger and frustration came from that you saw in the painting, Ann-san, that I grew to see the truth and could do nothing but play along and lie to myself. I reached out to you all on the Phan Site in the hopes that you could change things, but I was relying on you to fight my battles for me because I was too afraid to do anything myself."

"Madarame knew who to pick," Morgana pointed out. "Abusers always do and he's had a lot of practice. There wasn't much that an orphan off the streets could do on his own."

"Perhaps, but that's not a completely accurate description of me. My parents were both artistic, but my mother died when I was six and my father followed in a car accident shortly after. I didn't have any family who could take me in so I went into the foster system, bounced around in two other families before I met Madarame at an art show. I'd heard of him and brought my best work as a kind of audition, but I got bored and started drawing on the street to pass the time. He saw me and what I could do and talked to my caseworker – I now have to assume he bribed him – and I moved in with him shortly after."

"Your foster parents didn't say anything?" Akira asked.

"Not to me. Maybe Madarame bribed them too, but I wasn't really close to either family." Yusuke's smirk turned sour. "The anger and rejection of a child. They weren't bad people, they just weren't my parents and they didn't understand how I worked. But that was how I became Madarame's student, his new protégé while he broke down whoever else he was working on at the time, making sure we never knew about each other. You know the rest."

Ryuji scratched the back of his head. "That's rough, dude. I dunno where I'd be without my mom."

Yusuke shrugged. Akira thought he caught some pensiveness in the artist's eyes but he didn't say anything. "So that's it then," Akira concluded.

Yusuke chuckled. "What a terrible child I must be to reject the people who took me in and then double cross the man who has had me the longest. But I have no regrets. Come what may, this is what must be done."

"We'll help you," Morgana promised.

"And I will help you in return." Yusuke pulled up the cardboard tube and handed it over. "I want to start with this."

Akira took it and slid out the contents, then whistled in admiration when he saw it and showed it to the others. The sheets of drafting paper held maps on them, floor layouts of where they'd been and the other rooms of the Museum. There were even notes of what might be up ahead and of display cases none of them could remember seeing before. This was their ticket to the next stage in their heist.

"This is amazing," Ryuji breathed. "How'd you do this?"

"Goemon showed me when I looked through the windows of 'that place.' A thief must know his surroundings, and I've always had a knack for spatial details. I needed something to keep busy so I scribbled these out."

"I can't believe you'd call this scribbling," Ann responded. "This is perfect. Now we can prep ahead."

"If our new guy can do this, then we really made a good choice," Morgana added.

"We can also pawn off whatever you brought with you," Yusuke went on. "Let me see how I can help."

They were pulling out their loot discreetly, but a passerby caught Akira's eye. The guy with his friends was carrying a banner decorated with shogi pieces and a chibi girl with a red knot in her black hair, the name Togo written and stylized in gold. That sounded familiar, and then he realized from where. "Yusuke, do you have a classmate named Togo Hifumi?"

"Yes. The Venus of Shogi." Yusuke looked over. "That's her newest piece of advertising."

"She must be a big deal to have a moniker like that."

"I don't know much about shogi, but she is always at a library studying her moves, and I've heard that she competes professionally or is good enough to. She takes it seriously."

"She's also a model," Ann put in. "We've met once or twice. We don't really move in the same circles, but she seems nice, if pretty quiet."

"What are you thinking?" Morgana asked.

"The general's game," Akira mused, looking at the maps. The image of the Shadows in the Museum, and further back in Kamoshida's Castle, came to mind, those battles and formations not unlike a game of strategy. "It's crazy enough to work. I want to talk to her."

"I'll get you the address of where she practices," Yusuke offered.

"I appreciate that. By the way, when we go selling this stuff, you might want to lie low. We have to keep you under the radar for a while, so let's not get careless."

"I agree. I'll give you some prices to start with looking at these and– Blegh," Yusuke noted, looking at Kamoshida's crown. "This is tacky. Easy to sell, but still, someone would need an utter vacuum of artistic taste to want to buy this."

"Well, let's get started," Ryuji said, rubbing hands. "There's lotsa people who fit your description, and I'd love to see what kinda cash we can get for that."

"And best that we're done with it," Ann put in.

7 7 7

Ann was the first of the Thieves to leave school the next day. She'd had a restful sleep and felt good knowing that Yusuke was set up. With his food and clothes and everything, they just had to use those maps and work through Madarame's Museum and keep the cops from sniffing out their trail.

As though that thought summoned them, two uniformed police officers outside the school gates waved her down and approached. She blinked innocently even as her heart rate went up. "Can I help you?"

"Ah," one of them said, "you speak Japanese very well."

"Yes, I do."

"Well, that makes this easy. We're with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, ma'am, and we had some questions if you can spare us a minute."

She blinked innocently. "Am I in trouble, officer?"

"We're following a lead on a disappearance over the weekend in Shibuya. Someone was taken from their home, a boy about your age."

Ann's eyes widened and she touched her lips. "Oh my! That's quite something. I've never heard of that in all the time I've lived here. Japan's such a safe place."

"You've been here long, miss?"

"Most of my life. My parents moved us here when I was a kid, but they travel for work."

"So they wouldn't be available for us to speak to, then?"

"Why? Are they suspects?"

"No, ma'am, but you fit the description of someone who was seen in the vicinity of the residence in Shibuya where this person was last seen. Your hair color and possibly even your hairstyle as well."

Ann kept her face steady, but inside she was cursing. She'd dressed to impress on Sunday, but that apparently also meant that Madarame's neighbors remembered her being there. "Well, that might be because I was in Shibuya with friends, and I have had people come up to me saying they recognize me from my work. I model on the side, you see, all very professional."

"Model?"

"Yes. Bicycles, sportswear, all sorts of clothing. People say I'm distinct and they're always thinking I'm somewhere I'm not because they see me in magazines."

"Can you tell us what those magazines are, by chance?"

"Sure." Ann gave the names of the last few companies she'd modeled for and which editions. It was easy enough to say because it was the truth.

The cops frowned. "Ma'am, were you with anyone on Sunday? Someone who can corroborate your account of where you were?"

"Hmm, well… Ah! Yes, there is! Ryuji! Darling, over here!" Ann caught sight of her bleached blonde comrade and practically skipped over. He looked up in surprise, appearing for a moment like a deer in the headlights, but as she approached she mouthed the words, Play along. She hooked her arms around his and tugged him back over. "Ryuji here can confirm where I was, officer, because we were out together on the weekend."

Ryuji, bless his heart, adapted right away. He stepped over confidently with her at his side and nodded. "That's right, sir. All day, both days."

Ann ignored the gawping from some of the nearby students who saw her wrapped around Ryuji's arm. Not that she would have stopped if that were somehow important – some of those clowns had gotten pretty forward with her of late – but this worked well. So well that she didn't notice how his arm was resting between her boobs as she leaned into his side.

"And you weren't up in the art district of Shibuya at any point on Sunday?" the cops established.

"No, sir," Ryuji answered smoothly.

"Do either of you know the name Kitagawa Yusuke?"

"Kitagawa…" Ryuji pretended to think.

"Oh!" Ann snapped her fingers. "Wasn't he on the missing persons' list this morning? I saw that before I came to school." Also true, but she'd actually first seen it on a news billboard the night prior and knew that the police would be upping their search soon, just not this soon. Madarame certainly worked fast.

"That's right," Ryuji put in. "Where was he from again? Kokatsu Academy? Karukozaka High?"

"I thought it was Kasugayama High," Ann offered.

"Kosei High," one officer supplied. "An art student. Miss, do you know the name Madarame Ichiryusai?"

"Who?"

"He's an artist in Shibuya. Kitagawa Yusuke was his student and protégé before he went missing and it was Madarame-san's house that he went missing from. We're chasing down leads."

"I wish I could help you, officers, but we weren't near any art district of anywhere this weekend. That's not really our thing." That was an easy sell with Ryuji's hair and off-color shirt under his uniform and her in her baseball jacket.

"You're both students here?"

"That's right."

"A pretty interesting place lately, what with that gym teacher breaking down and all."

Ryuji stiffened. "Yeah."

"You knew him, apparently," the cop noted.

"Yeah. And he knew me. We had history way back when I was on the track team."

"I heard he was a tyrant to you guys. Good that we're getting onto the cases now and people are coming forward. It was probably tough for you guys, but we're here now."

Ann leaned into Ryuji to hide how she was biting her tongue. She had to or she'd speak her mind about the part the police's lack of action had played in Shiho's current situation.

"Do either of you know a guy with wavy hair and big glasses? About so tall?" The police officer measured a pretty good approximate height for Akira.

"There are students at Shujin with glasses, and quite a few with wavy hair." Ann noted. "That doesn't really narrow it down."

"This is another potential suspect involved in Kitagawa-san's disappearance. We're chasing down whatever leads we can, and your uniform resembles that seen by Madarame-san before Kitagawa-san went missing."

Luckily Madarame had been focusing on Akira and hadn't noticed Ryuji in any great detail, Ann concluded, and the neighbors apparently hadn't considered Akira as noteworthy as herself or this would be going differently. "I don't know if he wears glasses off of campus," she offered with an innocent look that masked the cruel glee in her heart, "but Mishima Yuuki has pretty wavy hair, and I don't see him at clubs much after school."

The police noted that name while Ryuji bit down a smile. He did it impressively well.

"And you, chief? Anyone you know fit that description?"

Ryuji shook his head. "That's too general. There're lotsa guys on the team and just in class who that could be, and I'd hate to take up your time with a wild goose chase. Sorry I can't help you more."

"No, thanks for your time. Both of you," the cops concluded. "Could we get your names in case we have any other questions?"

"Takamaki Ann."

"And Sakamoto Ryuji," her partner in crime offered.

"Thanks again for cooperating," the officers said as they departed.

"Good luck!" Ann offered. She got a wave in reply, and once they were gone she asked Ryuji, "Thanks. Can I walk home with you, just in case they follow me?"

"Sure."

She detached from him and walked along at his side, close enough for people to get the wrong idea about them but far enough away for her to deny it if they needed to.

"If they're looking, that means Yusuke's still giving them the slip," Ann commented. "Hopefully he can keep that up."

"He should be able to if they keep gettin' bad leads. Maybe we can help them with that if there's an anonymous tip line. Keep them runnin' around." Ryuji glanced over and grinned. "That was evil, throwin' Mishima under the bus like that. They might be lookin' for him as we speak."

Ann gave an imperious little hmph. "He has it coming. If he delays the cops then he's good for something, at least."

"Not afraid he'll turn it back on you?"

"I know where he sits in his class. He won't say anything, not unless he wants to start answering questions about his part in what happened to Shiho."

Ryuji nodded and they passed the time to get to his place. When they arrived, however, he scratched the back of his head. "Hey. So, I get that you said that we were goin' out… or you implied it, anyway, with the cops. But unless it's serious like that, try not to say that about people, okay?"

She smiled ruefully. "I put you on the spot, didn't I? Sorry about that. But you did great. Smooth reactions and everything, you handled it like a pro."

"Kidd helped," Ryuji admitted. "And after you face a few Shadows and cross over to 'that place' a few times, the cops seem a lot less threatenin'."

"I agree."

"But still," he mentioned, turning red and looking to the side, "bein' with someone isn't somethin' you should lie about. It's a pretty big deal, y'know?"

Ann wasn't certain where he was coming from with that, but after a moment it came to her. He must be concerned that someone else wouldn't be able to follow her lead, or they'd get the wrong idea, or the crowd wouldn't go along with it as easily since this time it was with someone they were used to seeing her around. Smart ideas; she'd have to think of that if there was a next time. "Okay. I'll be more careful."

He nodded, seeming relieved. "Good. That's good. Well, I'll see you later, unless you wanted to talk about work or some–"

"Ah!" A familiar female voice peaked just then. "Ann-chan, is that you?"

Ann turned and caught sight of Ryuji's mother descending the stairs toward her. "Sakamoto-san, it's great to see–" She was almost bulldozed down by the woman's strong embrace, both arms going around her with a strength that wouldn't have been out of place on a python around its prey.

"It's lovely to see you again, my dear! Come, come, let me take a look at you!" The woman released her and looked her over at arm's length, eyes alight.

Ryuji sighed in a suffering sort of way. "Mom, don't scare her off."

"Nonsense! Scare her off, what a ridiculous idea. I don't get to see her that often anymore, so should I just ignore her? No, no, let me have this."

Ryuji looked apologetic, but Ann giggled. She'd forgotten how enthusiastic Sakamoto Yoshie could be when she got excited. It wasn't an intuitive personality trait – the woman looked like she'd sooner eat a car than have a bad word to say about anyone – but get her going and she'd surprise anyone who held that belief. Ryuji had come by his enthusiasm and energy honestly. "It's wonderful to see you again, ma'am," Ann answered with a hug of her own.

"Ma'am," Sakamoto-san gushed. "So polite and lovely as always, Ann-chan. Even better than in the magazines you model for – a billboard's no match for the real thing."

"She saw you a while back and it was all she could talk about," Ryuji mentioned.

"It's been so long!" Sakamoto-san stated. "And you never invite her over."

"Didn't have her number until a little while ago," he muttered. "Mom, aren't you gonna be late for work?"

"I woke up early so I had the time to look after some things, and I can take a cab. Your mother's been saving up, Ryuji, so she knows when she can add something extra to her day. Besides, I don't get to see Ann-chan that often, so I can make an exception for her. Come up, dear, let me set the table for you."

It was obvious that saying 'no' wasn't an option, and Sakamoto-san had already taken Ann's hand and started pulling. If she wanted to keep that arm, then going along was for the best. She did so and Ryuji followed into their apartment, and Sakamoto-san bustled in her kitchen and had snacks and juice set out on the table in short order. "I like these ones," she confided. "I didn't think we had any in the fridge, but there they were the other day like they were just waiting for you to come over and have some. Come, sit, enjoy."

Ann did that. It was great talking to Sakamoto-san again. The wear of her job and raising Ryuji on her own was apparent, but when she got going it was easy to miss the lines and premature gray hair and get caught up in her momentum. She asked about Ann's parents and careers and whether they still enjoyed shio daifuku and dango, about how Ann herself was doing personally and at school. She listened to the answers, and when Ann let it slip about Shiho being in the hospital, she reached out and took Ann's hand. The gesture communicated a warmth and comfort that Ann wasn't aware she'd been missing, and the simple gesture put a lump in her throat.

"It sounds like there's a lot going on there," Sakamoto-san noted.

Ann nodded.

"You'll get through it, dear. You'll do the right thing, I've always believed that about you."

The sincerity almost brought tears to Ann's eyes, but she cleared her throat and replied, "Thank you."

"Any time, sweetie. If you ever want to talk, you just let me know. Make sure Ryuji gives you my number, okay?"

"I will," Ann promised.

Ryuji grumbled with good nature. "How can you tell she wanted a daughter?"

"You're my wonderful baby boy, Ryuji," Sakamoto-san gushed even more, "but also having a girl would have been perfect."

"Mom," he whined in protest, and the women laughed.

A short while later Sakamoto-san checked her watch. "I have to go. It was wonderful doing this, Ann-chan. We have to do it again soon, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am. We will."

"Ryuji, make sure you walk her home. You never know what creeps might take advantage of her when she's out on her own."

Ryuji nodded. "Got it, Mom. Have a good shift."

"I will!" She patted her purse conspiratorially. "We're going to have curry tomorrow, and those snacks you like and some more fruits. Oh my, it's been so long since I've had ripe pears. Make sure you lock up after you leave, Ryuji."

"I will, Mom."

The door shut and they heard her leave. Ryuji waited a few moments and then checked the window, then the door.

"Are you okay?" Ann asked.

"Yeah, I just wanted to make sure she's not comin' back right away." He looked at her. "Can I ask you for a favor?"

"You've got a few on credit."

"Close your eyes."

"What?"

He pulled an envelope out of his backpack. "There's some stuff I have to move around. I trust you and all, it's just… different doin' this with someone else in the house. And it'd be rude to ask you to leave or somethin'."

Ann nodded slowly. "So long as it's nothing weird."

"It isn't."

His lack of indignation told her he was serious. She set her hands on the table and closed her eyes, and a few seconds later there was some rustling through a drawer in the kitchen, and then in the shelf by the TV. Then there was a distinct jingling in a jar, and then he went down the hall and into a room – his room, if she remembered his house's layout correctly – and there was more shuffling and more jingling. Then he came back and told her, "Okay, you're clear now."

She opened her eyes and met his. "You're giving her money, aren't you? She was always big on having cash in envelopes to pay for things and keep track of finances, and it sounds like you've got a stash in your room, too."

So much like a pirate to squirrel away his cut of the booty.

He sighed as he sat. "Yeah. I can't help with the rent or utilities or that stuff – she handles that electronically, and if I put all that money into her account she'd notice right away. But I couldn't sit around and see her work to the bone and do nothin', y'know? Not when we're doin' what we're doin' and makin' bank, I'm not gonna be one of those kids who blows his allowance on stupid shit when…" He let out a breath. "When I can see the problems right in front of me. Mom, Yusuke, even you and Suzui, once I saw that stuff it's like I couldn't not see it anymore. I dunno if it's gonna pan out in the end, and I have no idea how I'm gonna explain it if she figures it out and I don't have a job to back it up, but…"

"But you couldn't live with yourself if you didn't pitch in?" she finished softly. Ann recalled what Ryuji's father was like, the careless spending and disregard for the family finances. Some guys would mirror that behavior because it was the only thing they had to go off of, but her comrade had learned from that and was working against it.

"Yeah. Somethin' like that, anyway."

"I think it'll help. You heard her just now, right? She's pretty happy."

"That's probably more 'cause of you bein' here. She'll be talkin' about this into next week."

"Maybe, but if she can provide more for you then I think that would make her happy, and you're giving her that opportunity. You'll probably need a job to explain where the money's coming from, but it won't be for nothing." She wore a rueful smile. "It's the small things, I'm noticing. The details, the specifics, those little pieces that really help us in a fight or get the best stuff on a run. Before, I always thought it was the big gestures and events that made all the difference, but you can lose track of the small stuff if you wait around for fireworks and big neon signs."

An unfamiliar look came to his face just then. "Yeah, I'm learnin' that." Then he turned to her and smiled a much more familiar smile. "Well, should I take you back? Or you wanna hang out more?"

"I should get back. There are some things I want to go over, and I need to stop by the hospital and put a cut against Shiho's bills."

He nodded and rose and held a hand out. She took it and got to her feet, and in short order they were back out on the street heading to her place. The conversation was easy, and when he left her at her door she reflected on how good it was to see Sakamoto-san again.

Because even when the woman had left, while Ann was with Ryuji and hearing how he was helping out around the house, she'd had a fluttery sense of warmth in her chest that was still there even now.

7 7 7

Akira left school that same day on a different path than Ann and Ryuji and went into the city. He'd been thinking of what Yusuke said about Togo Hifumi and wanted to meet the girl personally. It was a stretch, but the idea of applying shogi tactics to their work 'over there' was unorthodox enough to make sense, especially now that they had one more Thief on the roster. And she frequented a library near Kosei, one different from where Madarame might be watching.

He was passing an eatery of some sort when someone bulled through the door, turned and called, "Thief!"

Akira almost kept on walking, so natural was that frame of mind just then. But the person was in front of him and, when Akira looked up, looking right at him.

The man was tall and broad, had the flushed look of an alcoholic, and approached aggressively. "You! What did you do with my wallet?!"

Akira stepped back, hands up. He was reacting to the situation instinctively, and had he thought about it he would have noticed the way his feet were in a fighting stance and how his hands were up and in front of him, placating but also in a good position to defend himself or strike at the soft points. "Whoa there, what's this?"

"My wallet! Where'd you put it, you thief?!"

"I don't have your wallet, sir. I was just walking by."

"Well I don't have it, and I always know where it is!"

Now he was close enough that Akira could smell the booze on his breath, even this early in the afternoon.

"Is it possible you dropped it?"

"Yes, and that's how you picked it up!"

Now people were stopping and looking and coming out of the eatery to watch. None stepped forward to intervene – plenty had their phones out to record this little bit of drama. Akira didn't notice or get angry over it, however, as his mind was transported to Aga. He was back on that street on that night where another adult had been yelling. Fear and fighting fury flooded his veins and he couldn't decide whether to back away and play the victim or strike first and put the threat down.

Caught between those conflicting drives, he made a crucial mistake: he froze.

"Can't say anything?" the drunk demanded, coming closer. "If you're innocent, then it's fine if we check your bag, right?"

"You're not touching my stuff," Akira answered in a low timbre as his body finally unlocked and prepared to respond.

"Oh, so you have something you don't want to show, huh?! Why?!"

"I don't have your wallet and I'm not a thief. Get away from me."

The drunk approached and Akira gauged the distance, tensing as it shortened.

"Excuse me!" someone said, breaking the moment like thin glass. "Is this yours?"

A man in a suit handed a wallet to the drunk, stepping between him and Akira.

"Hm? Hey, yeah it is! Why do you have it?!"

"It was on the floor by the cashier. I think it was knocked over when you were there."

The drunk grabbed the wallet gracelessly, checking it. "Hmph. Seems to all be here."

"I'm glad we could resolve this amicably," the speaker went on.

"Whatever," the belligerent fellow said, turning and pushing past the people who had circled and were watching with rapt attention. None were positioned to help, not even the restaurant staff who were at a safe distance around the corner of the door.

Akira watched him go and let out a breath, stepping back from the edge. The familiarity of the moment to that night left his hands with a tremble that went straight to his heart. Everything shook, and he threaded and folded and opened his fingers over and over to make the fear go away.

He was a Phantom Thief now. He was strong. He'd been through worse than this. So why was he still afraid?

"Are you all right?" the new fellow asked. "You look like you need a minute."

"I'm fine," Akira answered automatically. He wasn't, but he held onto that thought until it became the truth. He let out one large breath and turned. "Thanks for helping."

He realized then who had helped him. It was that politician by the train station.

The man chuckled awkwardly. "I was glad to help. I'm Yoshida Toranosuke."

"Kurusu Akira."

"Thank you for keeping calm for as long as you did. It would have ended poorly for him if you'd had to fight, right?"

"Come again?"

"Well, you were getting ready to defend yourself, weren't you? I feel like it would have ended poorly for him, since you seem like you can handle yourself."

Akira shrugged, uncomfortable with how easy he was to read. "Maybe."

"But it ended well this way," Yoshida went on. "That was brave and resourceful of you to hold out as long as you did. You think fast."

"Don't sell yourself short," Akira replied. "No one else pitched in to help. Look around – none of them even look like they would if he swung at me."

A few of the onlookers appeared shamed and moved on. Others just shrugged or were texting in blithe ignorance.

Akira went on. "What you did made the difference."

Yoshida scratched the back of his head. "Maybe." He looked over. "A kid with grit and smarts feels like someone I would like beside me. Are you looking for work?"

"I am, actually."

"I do campaign speeches at the train station. I think I saw you in the crowd the other day. I could use someone to help set things up, practice my talking points with, that sort of thing. I can't say there will be many hours, but would you be interested?"

"You're offering me a job? Right here and now?"

"Somewhat," Yoshida hedged. "There isn't a huge pool for me to pull from with the finances I have, and not everyone's willing to work for No-Good Tora."

"That's what they call you? Why?"

"You haven't heard of me?"

"I'm not from Tokyo, and I don't follow politics."

"Ah. Well, it's a long story."

Akira shrugged. "Everyone's got a past. Sure, I'll work for you."

"Just like that?"

"Your money's as good as anyone's, right? I'll work with someone who sticks up for me, checkered past or not, over someone who tucks tail and hides."

Yoshida looked at him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. "I think this is just what I need." He pulled out his phone. "Could I get your number?"

They exchanged details and then Yoshida had to leave. Akira went on his way toward the library, breaking a smile once everything clicked into place. He had a side job and a source of income. His finances were covered. He checked his phone. In all the excitement, he'd missed that Ryuji had sent him a text.

Careful, it read. The cops are looking for Yusuke. They talked to Ann just now and are looking for a Shujin student with big glasses and wavy hair. Sounds like someone made you and her at Madarame's place.

Akira grimaced. Slowly as to not catch attention, he took his glasses off and hid them in his inside pocket. When he got to the library he went to the washroom, wet down his hands and slicked his hair back. He checked his work and cringed. It looked natural and not like he was hiding anything, but he didn't care for the style. It seemed like something his old friends – his teeth bared at even thinking about them in that way – would do to look smooth before flirting with girls.

He left the washroom and stepped through the library. He caught the faint click of shogi pieces and followed the sound.

When he saw the girl he was looking for, she stopped him in his tracks.

She was tall like the Niijima sisters were tall, but she had a refined shape to her face that, along with the fine pale skin and long glossy hair, immediately pegged her as a classic Japanese beauty. That red tri-knot hair piece set off the black of her hair and the fineness of her skin. She had long graceful fingers as she followed the words of the shogi book in front of her and moved pieces with an ease that spoke of comfort and familiarity. The thoughtful frown of her pink lips was lovely – as lovely as lips could be – and as she worked her craft he noticed that she had jade green eyes.

Akira let out a breath, silently saying to himself, Wow.

He must have taken too long in his admiration of her, however, because she caught sight of him out of her peripheral vision. Eyes that had been focused and inquisitive turned suspicious. "Who are you?"

Akira waved to her as he approached. "Hi. I'm Kurusu Akira, Togo-san."

"Have we met before?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

Akira took the seat across from her. "For shogi. You're very good, or so your reputation says."

"And you know enough about shogi to believe that?"

"Not really," Akira admitted. "My grandparents played and I would watch, but that hasn't been for a while. I've redeveloped an interest in it and a friend recommended you, so here I am."

"That's convenient," she replied. The defensive look hadn't left her eyes. "I should mention, Kurusu-san, that I don't like strangers or surprises."

"That's understandable."

"People become… weird when they see me sometimes. I have a following."

"As the Venus of Shogi, right?"

Her suspicion grew. "You knew that. Obviously or you wouldn't be here."

He spread his hands and shrugged. "Is it bad if I want to learn from the best?"

His flattery fell short, and she turned and looked over her shoulder. "Did you come with anyone?"

"No, no one."

She gave him a piercing green stare. "Serving as a decoy for someone else. That's clever."

"Except I came alone."

"Just what a decoy would say," she concluded as she rose and packed up her board. "Our conversation is over."

"Wait, can we start over and try this again?"

She closed her book and slid it to him. "Find which shelf this goes on and put it back for me and I'll consider it."

Akira took the book and she used the opening to escape, making for the door. A piece dropped to the carpeted floor, and she didn't notice or turn to pick it up. He grabbed it and looked at the markings. It was a lance, a direct piece that could only move forward, charging into battle recklessly or bravely.

He pocketed the piece and took the book and went among the shelves, stopping fast when someone flinched from him. Short, overweight, face hidden behind a medical mask and black sunglasses and a ball cap, he was watching Togo-san and scribbling madly on a notepad, and he smelled bad.

Akira bit the inside of his lips to refrain from backing away. Fans like this were generally harmless, but the rabid fervor with which they pursued the objects of their obsession simply wasn't healthy, and while there was no proof of that mindset being contagious, it was better to not take the chance.

"You have the book she was using," the guy said in a low voice. "Give it to me."

"You scared her off."

"Let me touch it."

Akira kept out of reach. "I needed her help with something and she heard you back here. Now I have to track her down."

"She's here after school every Monday to Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday mornings," was the automatic reply.

Akira's skin crawled. "Thanks, that's… dedicated of you. Where else does she go?"

"A church in Kanda and a park near there. Sometimes."

The guy held his hands out, and Akira surrendered the book. It was taken and cradled with disturbing intimacy. While the distraction was still in effect, Akira backed away and made tracks for the exit. Then the thought of fans in need of a bath gave him an idea. He tugged his bag further up on his shoulder and asked Morgana, "Can you smell her?"

The cat shuffled and stuck his head out. "Yes," he said a moment later.

"Let's see if we can find her tomorrow."

The next day Akira left school right away, stowing his glasses and straightening his hair and heading out. He went to that library first but she wasn't there. Akira thought he saw the librarian give him a dirty look but he couldn't be sure. Then he checked the church in Kanda but struck out there too. Last was the park that reminded him of Inokashira. Akira walked slowly, blending in while Morgana sniffed the air. In short order they found her, off in a corner of the path in a place that one couldn't approach her without being seen. Sure enough, as Akira came up she caught sight of him and straightened. The obvious next move was to either run and then scream, or scream and then run, leaving him in an awkward situation either way. He pre-empted her by holding her shogi piece between two fingers where she could see it. She froze, glared at him, then cleared a small spot – just large enough for him to sit at and not an inch more – and suffered him to approach.

Akira took his seat and handed the piece to her. "This is yours."

"At what cost?"

"No cost. It's yours and I'm returning it to its owner. I would have done that yesterday, too, but I got caught up with the guy who actually was around the corner of the bookshelf."

She exhaled. "I might know who you mean. He's quite passionate about the Venus of Shogi."

"That's how it seemed to me."

"The library said that the book I was reading isn't available now, by the way. Something about rebinding or cleaning, they weren't clear."

Akira shuddered. He didn't want to know just what had happened to that poor book after he'd handed it over.

"And now I can't use it to study my moves," she went on. "I left it in your care."

"You used me as a decoy," he countered. "There's a difference."

"Maybe."

"That's clever tactics, however," he went on. "You're pretty sharp if you can apply that to real life."

"I'm also clever enough not to fall for flattery."

"Good, because I'm not flattering you."

Their stares locked and neither spoke. She must have seen some of Akira's sincerity because her feathers calmed and she relaxed. Slightly. "Then what did you come here for? You've returned my shogi piece. Isn't your mission accomplished?"

"If that was all I came here for, then yes. I heard you were good at shogi and wanted to learn from you."

"There are clubs for that."

"I'd rather learn from a seasoned player. Particularly since there's the opportunity for an exchange of services now."

"An exchange? What do you mean?"

"We just had midterms at my school and I did better than I expected. Maybe the best I've ever done at school. I credit that to the friends I was studying with, how teaching them things helped me really learn the material. If I'd studied on my own, I probably just would have ended up reciting facts from the book and not really absorbing them. The same thing could work for you. If you're without a book to pull from, then teaching a student and learning with a real player might teach you what you can't learn now. You might even pick up something more than what the book has in it."

"That's assuming you are a capable student and someone I can learn from," she noted.

"Sure, but I found you this quickly, didn't I?"

"You did," she admitted. "That might have been luck. I wouldn't learn much from someone whose only skill is happening to trip over what he was looking for."

"You'll have to try me to find out, Togo-sensei."

She frowned. "I'll teach you if you never call me that again."

"Deal." He gave her his number. "At your leisure, you can text me."

"I might," she answered primly, "but if I do you must never give this number out to anyone. No one, understood?"

"Understood. It's just between us, and I'm good at keeping secrets."

She searched him again, then nodded. "Very well, Kurusu-kun. We have a deal, which I will terminate if you start to slow me down."

"Right back at you, Togo-san."

She raised an eyebrow, but when his smile stayed on, she replied with a small one of her own.

7 7 7

"All right," Mona declared. "Let's go."

The Thieves were 'over there' after school that Friday. Joker had stopped in to resupply his medical pouch with Takemi-sensei, Fox had made it to the crossover point wearing a hoodie and baggy jeans, and they were all ready to keep going through Madarame's Museum. The pathway along the roof and Fox's maps allowed them to duck security and make good progress into the depths of the Museum, particularly where a lot of valuable-looking paintings and display cases lay within reach.

It wasn't just Mona's paws that were itching at the sight of so much plunder.

The problem that presented itself made sense for the added value of what was on display. Security was higher, and because there weren't any Shadows to be seen that meant there were plenty of traps that would have undoubtedly brought a crowd of them down on the Thieves.

That led them to the lasers. Mona saw the emitters and reflectors and pointed them out. They were cunningly placed, but Fox tapped Panther on the shoulder and explained an idea. She nodded, and when he generated a block of ice she called up enough fire to melt it. The resulting hazy fog showed where the lasers were. Then Fox iced up his sword and, fast as light, put it into the path of the lasers, reflecting them back perfectly and granting them a way through.

Joker nodded, impressed, and they moved through that part of security without any trouble.

That got them into where a lot of good stuff lay, and the Thieves went to work. Paintings were cut out of their frames with a razor and rolled up for later sale, Panther and Mona went along the jewelry cases with picks and raided everything expensive, and Joker utilized a newly acquired glass cutter to get into the cases where plaques and historical relics lay. They were quiet and swift and their bags were filled in short order.

Joker was off in his own little corner, exercising caution and filling his pockets, when something caught his eye and held it. "Look at that," Joker breathed.

In the center of the case lay a polished revolver with ebony grips and a stylized N on each side. The barrel and cylinder were darkened but shone with immaculate care and attention, and it had the look of a weapon that had seen proper use instead of just being a fanciful antique to put up and show off. The card before it declared that it was a Colt M1878.

Then Joker read further. Apparently, the gun was the property of a proud Japanese national who served as an interpreter for an American diplomat after Commodore Perry forcibly opened Japan's borders to the United States. The diplomat – a drunkard and a louse, the card stated more than once – was killed in 1849 after insulting someone's wife. The interpreter, Takada Ryoichi, defended himself and the rest of the diplomat's staff with the gun while its owner was the first to die.

Joker frowned as he read the description again. The details didn't mesh with his history classes, the material of which was still fresh from his exams. "That's not right," he noted. "The black ships came to Japan in July of 1853. How would an American diplomat already be here and working years before they arrived? And if the diplomatic missions were undertaken around that time, then this gun must be something else – it was manufactured twenty-five years after the ships arrived."

"Those are some odd inconsistencies," Fox commented as he came over.

The harder Joker looked at the card, the more certain words wavered. He touched it and the interpreter's name wavered and ran like wet ink until the common syllables shifted and changed into Madarame Ichiryusai.

"He's writing himself into history," Joker realized. "Everything here, every type of art or weapon or piece of jewelry, he's put himself at the center of it."

The others looked at the display names and description plates and noticed the same thing. Each piece, without exception, was primarily attributed to Madarame.

"This is somethin' else," Skull muttered, looking at the goods with new disdain. "Even in a place that's all about him, he's made it so everythin' is about him."

Fox grimaced. "His vanity knows no bounds. The loot appears to be of good quality, which makes sense since he wouldn't take credit for subpar work, but who is to say what it really is? He's surrounded himself with lies. Is it safe to assume that the deeper we go, the closer we get to his real self?"

"That was how it worked before," Panther replied.

"Then I will be impressed to see just how he outdoes himself. If this is any indication, it will be a marvel to behold."

Joker picked up the revolver and checked it over. It seemed to be functional. He pocketed it and made a note to work with it at a later time. "If that's all, let's keep going," he said.

Next was a hallway of paintings. All beautiful, all with the same varying styles and high qualities as those in the art gallery in the real world.

"He loves pumping up his ego, doesn't he?" Panther commented. "More of his stuff to show off."

"Normally I'd agree," Fox said with a frown, "but none of these are his. Not anything of his that I've seen, anyway, not at the gallery at any point."

"He's not the sort to dedicate space to anyone else," Skull commented, "so who would have made these if not him?"

"Literally everyone else?" Joker suggested.

"True enough, but why's it here?"

Before anyone else could speak, a voice echoed through the room, male and unfamiliar. "Again, I told you to focus on the best of what sells, and again, you bring me this! You're too invested in your art, my student. Take it out of here and do it again."

The Thieves looked around for the speaker, but the gallery was empty. No speaker or megaphone, no balcony, nothing. Mona went toward another painting and the voice returned.

"What people call art is really just admiration of a trend. Either follow it closely to make the most money or bring it back at the right time. Don't stray into the danger of making what you want or what others think they like – there's no money to be made at that. Let the buyer think they have a winner and they will do the rest of the work themselves."

"This is a teacher," Joker realized. "It sounds like something Madarame would say, but it doesn't sound like him."

"It isn't," Fox confirmed. "Not even close, even if it's exactly what would come out of his mouth. It makes sense that he'd learn the craft somewhere, and if his instructor was like this, then lying his entire career makes a lot of sense."

Skull moved over to another painting, and the voice returned. "No, no, no! I told you, don't get tied up in your art! Who is this woman? Why should it matter if she has a child? You can't answer me, can you? Let me guess, your inspiration took hold of you again? Here, I'll tell you what. Let's make a bet. Put your version up on the market and see what it goes for, and I'll recreate it and make one small change. We'll see whose work sells for more, all right?"

"A woman?" Panther asked. "What does he mean?"

"Sayuri, perhaps," Fox surmised. "That was Madarame's greatest work, the one that put him on the map as an artist. I always wanted to see the original piece – it was what inspired me the most when I was learning to paint – but he said it was lost. I don't believe him after all those copies he had at his house, but now it seems like there's more to the story."

Mona looked back the way they came, his ears flicking. "Security's coming. Maybe they heard the memories like we did. Time to go."

Fox looked around and pointed to a door. "There. That takes us forward." They moved fast to the door and pushed through it, stumbling in the dark as it shut behind them.

It didn't stay dark for long. Light, white and multicolored, rose around them, hazy clouds around them and no art, walls, lights or ceiling or floor anywhere to be seen.

Skull looked around. "Where is this?"

Fox pulled out his maps and stared in disbelief. They were blank. Mona looked at an antique compass he'd lifted from the treasure room only to find it spinning freely on its own.

"It's nowhere," Joker realized. "A room out of place. Mona, can this really happen?"

"It is happening so it must be able to," the cat answered, "but it's rare, from what I've heard. Something must be causing a conflict in his mind, something that he can't discard and is central to his psyche and world view, but it's distinct from his Palace."

"You'd think those two things wouldn't be compatible with each other."

"In the real world, you'd be right. But in this place, where the mind holds sway no matter how little sense it makes, it seems they can. It would wreak havoc on the person's brain, though."

"Which fits for someone who has a Palace," Panther finished. "This would be impressive if it weren't tied to Madarame."

Fox looked around, his forced stoicism part of his mask.

Mona unlooped his rope. "Here. Tie this to yourselves and keep at least one person in sight. This place is so different from the Palace that I don't think the Shadows will be here – keep your weapons handy just in case I'm wrong, though – but the bigger threat here might be getting lost or trapped."

They nodded and did so. Joker and Mona took the front, Skull and Panther the rear, and Fox was in the middle. They went slow, no one sensing any Shadows, but when Fox looked back he flinched. "What on earth–"

Joker followed and realized that Skull and Panther were walking at a ninety degree offset. Walking forward had taken him up a wall, and when he looked up, he saw them standing on a pathway overhead. "Even basic rules of space and form don't apply here," he said. "This is crazy."

"I don't feel anything here with us," Skull commented, "but is this place safe?"

"For now, but that could change." Mona sniffed and touched the floor, or whatever it was they were walking on. "It feels different up ahead. This way."

They followed and came to an empty portrait frame that started off white, but rippled with color and forms as they approached. When they were before it, they heard two voices, one which belonged to the instructor. "I won the bet. See, Ichitaro? Give people something to follow and they will line up to lie to themselves about it, far more than for the 'art' of a woman and her child."

The speaker left, and Madarame's voice ground out, "Show me, did he? Take the credit for my work after all you put me through? No, Sensei, not anymore. You've shown me your ways and now I will make them my own and so much more. The first thing to change is that name. Ichitaro. Pah. First son? Bright and clear? No, a great artist needs a great name, and I will not be just the first among others, I'll be the only one people know about, the greatest and most preeminent. That requires a proper name, like… yes. Ichiryusai. Madarame Ichiryusai. I like the ring of it already."

They exited the passage of light and emerged in a darkened hallway. It was blessedly empty of guards since the Thieves needed to adjust their eyes to the sudden gloom.

Fox looked back at where just a normal door now stood. "I… that was real, wasn't it? Everything else here is a distorted mess, but that was the truth, right?"

"It felt like it," Mona noted.

"Sensei…" The word was a curse word in Fox's mouth. "You learned your teacher's lessons so well that you replaced him as something this much worse, but that wasn't even your worst crime. You defaced your greatest work of art – yourself – and have built everything on a lie. Everything! And I believed it!"

Joker stepped next to him and motioned for silence, pointing at the opening of the hall.

Fox gnashed his teeth but nodded. "I understand," he said in softer tones. "But this only reinforces my desire to see this through. For myself, for all his students, and for the lies he has made into his entire life, I will end this."

"We'll help you get there," Mona vowed. "I can feel his Treasure. It's close. Let's go slow and quiet – we're not screwing up this close to the end."

They nodded and did as he said, slipping forward and keeping to the darkness, dodging even the most dedicated guards and utilizing every lesson they'd learned to not raise the alarm. They did it, coming to the vault door where the hazy glow hovered in mid-air.

"That's his heart?" Fox asked.

"It will be," Mona replied. "Once we make him aware of us, it will become something we can steal."

"Not without a fight, though," Skull pointed out.

"I welcome the chance to… express my anger with him," Fox answered.

"Dude, there's one thing I've gotta tell you. We felt the same way you do, Panther and me, but you have to know that if he uses your real name, it's gonna hit you like a tidal wave."

"I'm strong enough to face him."

"So were we," Panther told him. "We hated Kamoshida more than it's probably possible to hate anyone, but your real name has power over you here, and Madarame knows it. He'll use it on you."

"We'll still be here to help, Fox," Mona added, "but they're right that it's something you should be ready for."

Fox tilted his head. "Can one be ready for this? How should I practice?"

"Good point. Just don't go out on your own, and be ready for anything. We don't know what he has up his sleeve, right?"

"Understood. I will defer to your experience."

"Then let's secure a way in and go home to prep," Joker told them.

They found a side room that led up to a catwalk that oversaw the Treasure, and then located a short air vent that led to the roof. They anchored their ropes and climbed out. It was a clever approach, Joker realized. On a building with skylights and gaudy ornamentation everywhere, the shortcut to the Treasure was a normal duct vent, indistinguishable from any others on the roof. Mona scratched the inside of the vent to mark it, then put the grate back on. "Let's go home for now," he suggested.

The others nodded. Fox let out a breath. "That's it then. We're almost there. Are we ready?"

Mona noted, "There's still a lot to do, so not yet."

"But we will be," Joker promised through his grin. "We definitely will be."