Author's Notes: Here it is, my lovely readers, the first of the two chapters to be released in March of '24. Two doses of excellence in one month, how awesome is that? Where else can you find such outstanding storytelling, superlative characterization and incomparable verbiage all in one place, except the best Persona 5 fic on the internet? Nowhere, simple as that. The best story for the best audience, no two ways around it.

And speaking of my amazing audience:

UltimateCCC: Damn straight!

Many, many thanks to Firion for his input and feedback on this chapter, and on this whole project.

And now, let the games continue!

Shark Bait

Once, she associated pain with progress. Sore muscles meant they were strengthening, giving her a higher jump. When her lungs hurt, it was the marker of how fast she'd become, how much farther she could move. If her hand stung, it was because her blocks and spikes were that much better.

Once, she'd welcomed the burn of exertion. It was something she looked forward to.

Now, Shiho could only associate pain with loss. Loss of her virginity, loss of her friends, and loss of the bodily vigor she'd taken for granted. She could barely move under her own strength, she couldn't use the bathroom without that catheter and bag she'd grown to hate so much, her movements were hindered by the casts and slings, and the aches and pains in her bones and scalp only reminded her of the patchwork freak show she'd become.

She'd made the mistake of looking in the mirror a week ago. Getting better, they'd told her. This was what recovering nicely looked like. She hadn't slept for two days after.

Worse were the people who came by to torment her. Sure, they probably thought they were helping, the nurses with their optimism and upbeat personalities, her parents as they tried to be encouraging while looking thinner and more exhausted every time she saw them. None of her friends, though. No one from the volleyball team, probably because they couldn't handle seeing her after she unloaded on Ann.

Bitch. She was still up and around, and hadn't been by since. Some friend she was.

Shiho braced for another day of tests and torturous exercises, for more failed attempts at standing or scratching her nose. More time wasted in bed like a child, less than a fraction of what she had been.

That's what she got, until a familiar, unwelcome figure turned the corner into her room. Tall for a girl, slim, serious and clearly uncomfortable. Oddly still in her element despite being out of the protection of Shujin's Student Council.

"What do you want, President Niijima-senpai?" Shiho growled out.

Niijima-senpai approached, red eyes settling on Shiho's face. "To see how you're doing. To wish you well."

Shiho spread her arms and legs out, as much as she could. The creaking and cracking of her joints and the pins and plates in them was audible throughout the room. "Take a look, then. I'm not going anywhere."

Niijima-senpai bit her lip, then looked at the nearby table with a few flowers and get-well cards. "Are you allergic to pollen or any particular plants?"

"Why?"

"Because I wouldn't want to buy you something that will make you worse."

"Don't bother."

"Why not?"

"I only take well wishes from people who are sincere. The principal's lapdog doesn't fit that bill."

Niijima-senpai looked surprised. "Excuse me?"

"What? That's what you are. We all know that you'll do whatever the powers that be tell you so you can get that university recommendation letter. Get a big push for a big school and you're out of here, right?"

"That wasn't why I joined the Student Council, and that's not why I'm here. I honestly wanted to see how you were doing."

"Really? Because someone told you to?"

Red eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Because what you went through is a tragedy, Suzui-san. It never should have happened, and if I can help you get better, then I'll do it if it's within my power."

"Is it just you?"

"Here? Yes. But Kurusu Akira told me I should meet with you. I planned to, the day that you…came here."

"How convenient."

"It's the truth."

"Here's a truth for you," Shiho spat. "I tried asking for help when it got bad. I sent you messages twice because I bought into your talk about being there for us."

Niijima-senpai perked up. "Messages? What sort of messages? I didn't receive anything."

"Of course not."

"I'm serious. I would have done something if I'd known you were being hurt. How did you send the messages?"

Shiho went silent.

"Were they about what you were going through? About what… he was doing?"

"Yeah."

"In writing or verbally? And through who?"

"Mishima. And Takano."

Niijima-senpai paused for a moment, then softly pointed out, "Takano was expecting to get a scholarship out of the athletics program. I overheard it myself. And Mishima Yuuki was investigated by the police for his involvement in this case. Any complaints they got about Kamoshida-sensei would have gone right to him, not to me or anyone else."

Shiho looked away.

"There had to be people intercepting messages like that," Niijima-senpai went on. "This makes sense. He couldn't have done so much damage without that kind of control."

Shiho said nothing.

"It's very unfortunate that it turned out this way, Suzui-san. You tried, you really did. I'm sorry this happened to you."

"You're sorry too, huh? Everyone's saying that to me."

"I'm sure they mean it."

"You know that, huh? For sure?"

"Where is this anger coming from? Your situation is terrible, but Kamoshida is in police custody. He can't hurt you. Your parents have visited you, as have your friends like Takamaki-san."

Shiho glared at the mention of that name.

"You're also in the best care you can be in," Niijima-senpai went on. "Are you afraid of the future? Concerned about getting back into sports?"

Shiho said nothing.

"Or do you blame yourself?"

Shiho flinched. "What?"

"Victims of assaults like this sometimes make themselves participants of the crime, even if that's not the truth. Or they think they deserve what happened. It gives them a sense of control over a situation where they didn't have any. I hope you aren't doing that."

"That's crazy."

"Maybe, but it is understandable, and it does happen. Is this the case with you?"

"I'm… that's none of your business."

Realization sparked in those red eyes. "You do blame yourself, don't you?"

"You need to leave. Get out."

"It's not true, Suzui-san. You aren't at fault for–"

"I said out. Now."

"You need to talk to someone about–"

"OUT, I SAID!" Something dark rattled in her voice, a savage strain of fury that set off now when people dug too deep. She imagined it as a force to push them back, a fictitious blast of bitchiness to slake her rage and spread the misery.

Only Niijima-senpai stepped back like she'd felt the blow. She eyed Shiho with surprise and some suspicion. "I will speak to the nurses about this," she said softly. "If you believe something that's false, it will only hinder your recovery."

"Don't you dare," Shiho growled.

Niijima-senpai turned toward the door, but answered, "I will. Because if you tried to contact me and I couldn't help you, then I bear some responsibility for this. I want you to get better, and I won't be lax in my duty again."

She left before Shiho could say anything else. The room was privy to a number of foul invectives directed at the departed girl, but when Shiho was done, she was left alone in the silence of her room.

And in that silence, the pain flared like every break and repair, every pin and plate in her skeleton, contorted at once. Something trickled into her bloodstream that made her hurt down to the marrow. It was a dark something, cruel and malicious and, Shiho realized with horror, familiar.

"Don't run from me, little one," it crooned. "You tried once, back on the school roof, remember? You won't get very far now, and no one else is here for you."

Shiho trembled.

"Because you know that, don't you? No one can help you. No one understands. They're just here to hurt you. Not like me."

Alone, unable to escape, Shiho shook as the monster inside curled up close.

And the darkness closed in around her.

7 7 7

Things were relatively quiet the rest of that week. Relative to an Olympic athlete confessing his guilt to the student body at large, anyway. Madarame's revelation didn't impact Shujin's faculty outside of a few art instructors who were now carefully re-examining their credentials. The re-emergence of the Phantom Thieves and their distinct calling card, however, caught all sorts of attention. The rumor mill hadn't merely started up again, but spun with the aid of a diesel-powered generator. Connections were made between Madarame and Kamoshida that were so outlandish that they almost sounded plausible, and the second theft of a heart by the Phantom Thieves made converts of doubters overnight.

Akira was happy to let things run their course. He was in no position to get involved with anything to do with Madarame now that the police were focused on him – Yusuke's case was being examined at Mach speed, so unlike standard government bureaucracy that it stank of someone's fear for their job – and really, he was content in general. Sakura-san had come through on his promise and now a gently-used bed and box spring occupied the space where the beaten-up sleeping slab on milk crates had been. Akira nearly slept through his alarm each morning now that he had some proper lumbar support, and he even spent a few minutes after school each day, like now, laying out on the bed just to assure himself it was real. He would never take proper sleeping arrangements for granted again.

Around the bed were some privacy screens and a chest of drawers as well, nothing fancy but quite functional. The corner of the attic now suited human habitation, and both Akira and Morgana made the most of it. They'd cashed in their loot, put more of those strange shards in Morgana's jar, and thoroughly enjoyed their victory.

But even if Akira wasn't working, there was still work to be done. He went through his growing repertoire of exercises like planks and push-ups, pull-ups on an overhead beam, crunches on the floor and shadow boxing to get his heart rate up, getting a little bit further in his reps each time. It might have been the influence of a Persona and 'that place,' but he found himself improving at a faster rate than his old gym classes ever offered.

Picking locks was next on his list, as was repairing an old radio he'd gotten from the local market for a song. The chance to have some sort of human noise in the attic outside of the customers downstairs inspired the purchase, and Morgana urged him to buy it as well, citing the utility of work that involved manual dexterity. Expanding one's skill set was always important as a Phantom Thief.

He worked on those for a combined hour, then went for his stash under the floor beneath the couch. Checking the stairs one more time, Akira pulled out the revolver he'd picked up from Madarame's Museum. Through some manner of magic, what had been a functional firearm 'over there' was just a model in the real world, same as how his 1911 was really just an airsoft toy. The wheel gun was polished and beautiful, having more weight to it than a typical facsimile, and it had something to it that made it look different from the products he'd seen at Untouchable, but it was just barely not the real thing.

Akira smiled. Trust Madarame to have a convincing fake even among the treasures in his display cases.

Akira hefted the revolver and looked around. He'd made some subtle changes to his living quarters so he could train his gunplay, inspired by online videos and research. He had pieces of tape on the walls for target acquisition, sighting over the barrel and a steady hold; spare magazines sat nearby to work on reloading, either while stationary or on the move; and he'd taken to carrying his Colt in his waistband at different positions to practice his draw stroke and presentation with each hand. Firing the gun, even as a toy, was out of the question if he didn't want unwanted attention, but training everything short of pulling the trigger made for good practice and better results. He fell into the familiar mindset and began his drills.

But he quickly learned how different this revolver was from his semi-automatic. The weight distribution, the angle of the grip and where his thumbs rested, the trigger pull and the prominence of the hammer were all immediately foreign to him after practicing so much with his 1911. And while the articles and videos he'd consumed showed revolvers that had cylinders that swung out to the side to be reloaded, this one snapped the cylinder and entire barrel forward. A 'top break,' he'd learned it was called, and while there seemed to be a mechanism to eject spent cartridges, it did nothing but look neat while empty.

He put the work in to get used to the new gun, but he couldn't overcome how odd it felt. He tried different holds and couldn't navigate the grip, he kept reaching for his spare mags only to find no place for them to go, and he even tried drawing from the hip and cocking the gun like how cowboys in American movies did only to find that he kept catching the barrel on his leg or clothes. The gun was well made, but his exercises with it only proved that he far preferred his pistol.

Akira shrugged and hid the revolver back in the hidden chest. He'd give it another try later or trade it in.

He continued with his training regimen, studied and did his homework, then grimaced when he saw the note he'd written in the margins reminding him of the school field trip on Monday. They were going to the local big-name TV studio as part of their 'culture studies' curriculum.

While he'd rank such a visit, especially with all the students in his grade in attendance, as appealing as the kind of culture that grew in Petri dishes, he knew he didn't have much choice. In such a case, it was better to get it over with.

7 7 7

Visiting the TV station was every bit as dull as Akira dreaded. He wasn't normally one to complain about his scholastic activities, but hiding how little time he had for his classmates was getting harder the more he heard how vapid their discussions were or how borrowed their opinions turned out to be. He'd really noticed it on the day his exam grades were posted, and he was having a harder and harder time shaking the feeling, especially when the subject of conversation was fifty flavors of Phantom Thieves. So he stuck close to Ryuji and Ann and kept quiet.

Fortunately, the tour didn't require him to speak much. Kawakami-sensei was chaperoning, and the guide assigned to them explained the workings of the industry in as sterilized and family friendly a manner as possible, directed them through the halls and past the jumbled cables, the blazing spotlights, and the haggard people who did the actual work, and then showed them the various studios where anything from news reports to weather forecasts to press conferences to the latest Kamen Rider episodes were filmed. All pretty mundane stuff.

"I think I know this place," someone commented in the last room. "Isn't this the studio where Madarame Ichiryusai broke down and confessed last week?"

The students looked around with much greater interest, pointing out little nicks and flaws in the place that made it distinct and matching them to clips of the video.

The guide cleared her throat nervously. "We host many great figures here, for all sorts of reasons. Come along now, we're moving on."

Kawakami-sensei ushered them forward, but Akira lingered and looked at the stage. He hadn't noticed before but it neatly matched the setup he remembered from the video, and he nudged his glasses up to hide the proud smile on his face. It still felt good, knowing he'd been part of the group that brought that sack of crap down. When he turned and noticed Ann and Ryuji, they wore similar expressions.

As the chatter around them turned to the subject of the Phantom Thieves yet again, the three and the cat moved through the crowd in silence.

The rest of the tour wasn't much to speak of, but the big event came soon enough, which was when the Shujin students were all invited into the audience of an interview show about to go live. Murmurs of a 'Detective Prince' rippled through the girls and some of the guys, and engagement rose enough to keep people quiet. Akira got an aisle seat, leaned back and watched. He recognized the set as one of those talk programs made to appeal to housewives – his mother was a big fan and watched every episode or recorded what she couldn't.

He winced at the thought of her.

"I thought the Detective Prince was a girl," Ann commented. "Shiro– something."

"Maybe the title's somethin' they borrow or share," Ryuji answered. "Or there's more than one."

"There must be. Last I heard, there was some big murder case out west she was involved in."

"Do you know anything about this one?" Akira asked. "I've heard of him from commercials and show clips and that's it."

"Same here," Ann confirmed. "I don't know of any big cases he's tied to."

Ryuji nodded to where the lights were dimming. "Guess we're gonna see for ourselves soon enough."

Two announcers, one male and the other female, came out and waved to them and then took their seats on the set. Some greetings were made and the show proceeded for a few minutes, and then the woman said to the crowd and to the camera, "And please welcome our special guest, the Detective Prince himself, Akechi Goro!"

Canned applause sounded over the speaker that was drowned out by the real applause from the Shujin students. A guy around their age came out of a side room, and the thing Akira noticed the most was how normal he tried to look. Akechi wore brown slacks and a jacket, brown leather shoes that matched his gloves, and a tie and an off-white shirt that softened right into the rest of his attire. It all matched and gave the easygoing impression that his ready smile brought home.

Seeing him, Akira wasn't sure how he felt, and he wasn't sure why he wasn't sure in the first place. He tapped the surface of his soul and nudged Arsene, but nothing presented itself to the Persona.

Made-for-television waves and bows came from the guy, and he sat across from the announcers easily. The usual pleasantries followed, including hints of past cases and episodes for the audience to catch, and after a few minutes the female announcer asked him, "Now, I'm sure all of our viewers are eager to hear your opinion on this next question: What are your thoughts on the Phantom Thieves?"

Akira rolled his eyes.

Akechi's smile remained. "Everyone's new favorite crime stoppers? They're certainly good at making an entrance."

"Are they real?"

"Their calling card suggests they are, and the people they have targeted wouldn't buckle without some sort of push." Akechi spread his hands and laughed. "It would be nice if such mystical figures were there to help us from the background, but it would also be nice if Santa Claus existed. Even if I'd technically have to arrest him for trespassing."

That got laughter from the crowd and the announcers.

The woman asked, "So you don't subscribe to their claims of being out for justice, that they only do this to apprehend the guilty?"

"I feel like that might be how it seems, and they might even believe it themselves. But we have police who fill that niche in our justice system, so if these Phantom Thieves feel this passionately about the work we do and the hours we put in, I can find them some applications."

More laughter.

"But my concern," Akechi went on, "is the methods they use. Changing hearts, making people confess to crimes we have no evidence for yet, that's quite an MO. If we were looking at this objectively, we'd call that coercion, wouldn't we? That's a crime." He shrugged apologetically. "I understand that is an unpopular opinion, but sometimes the truth has to be unpopular."

"That's a good point," the female announcer stated.

"That's bullshit," Ryuji muttered, massaging his leg unconsciously. "If it were that simple, a lot of things wouldn't happen."

Ann nodded darkly. "If the cops were enough, Shiho wouldn't have…"

"We have some special guests today, so let's see what they think of this subject." The announcer turned to the Shujin crowd. "Everyone, please use the buttons by your chairs to vote, yes or no. After all you've heard so far, do you believe in the Phantom Thieves?"

Akira's classmates reached for the devices and happily played along with the blandly vague question. Akira hit 'yes' with negligible enthusiasm, figuring the woman was just fishing for a cheap reaction, and Ann and Ryuji pitched in as well.

A moment passed before the woman looked at her tablet. "Oh my! Over 40% of you said 'yes'! I wasn't expecting such a reaction!"

"That is higher than I expected," Akechi noted.

The announcer rose and took her mic with her, the camera following along. "Let's see what some of the reasons are for that answer. By a show of hands, who said 'yes' just now?"

Many students responded, especially the guys. The woman went among them, getting replies that ranged from, "Because they're cool!" to attempted lengthy dissertations on the effect of the Japanese political system on the populace at large. The announcer dodged those with practiced ease and ended up near Akira while a tall, gangly student across the aisle tried to sputter out an answer while obviously staring at her.

Akira turned aside and muttered, "They're necessary."

The speaking paused, and right then Akira realized she was looking at him. Either he'd spoken louder than he intended at just the right lull, or the room carried sound well, or the woman had the hearing of an owl. Regardless, she ditched the student she was with and approached him enthusiastically. "Necessary! What a view. Please, tell me why you think so."

Akira looked around, half processing the expectant, and in many cases hateful, looks from his peers. He cleared his throat and tried not to notice the camera pointed at him. "The people the Phantom Thieves have exposed were in positions of authority. They abused that authority to get away with hurting others. If the police could have stopped them I'm confident that they would have, but Madarame Ichiryusai confessed to some pretty awful crimes and apparently–" he worked to keep the scorn out of his voice, "–no one ever noticed what he was doing. I hear that some of his victims will never be the same again. In a case like that, don't we need someone to go directly for the criminals?"

"Well said! That's an interesting point. Detective Prince, what do you think?"

Akechi smiled easily. "As to whether we should or not, that's the decision of the police. If such cases become common enough, the laws could change and that could happen. But the forerunners of such action should not be a group of vigilantes who claim to fight for justice while breaking the law. They might have good intentions, but there's a place that the road paved with good intentions lead us."

Before the mic could move away, Akira noted, "Kamoshida Suguru, an Olympic athlete and one of our gym teachers, assaulted his female students because no one stopped him or investigated his actions. We all heard him admit to it. His victims didn't get justice through the police, so in such cases, who should they turn to when no one listens to them?"

The Detective Prince looked at him, and for an instant the distance between them vanished. The inquisitiveness and drive in each of them met and clashed, both now aware of the other as they tested each other for weaknesses.

Then the moment passed and Akechi nodded. "Such cases are ones I, and many others, take very seriously. If anyone knows of such instances, they can reach me directly. I will devote my energies to bringing such men to justice. Through legal, trustworthy means, the sort that will stand in a court of law and abide by the rules we all follow."

"You heard it here, folks!" the male announcer cut in. "Justice for all at any cost! But that concludes our time with Akechi Goro today. Tune in next week and you just might see him again!" The usual pleasantries followed, then they went to a commercial break. The magic of television evaporated. The announcers went to powder up, the students milled around out of earshot of the mics, and Thieves stood off to the side.

"Y'know," Ryuji commented quietly, "I don't care what people say about us, but that guy talkin' that kinda shit and usin' us as a springboard? Kinda pisses me off."

"Same, sort of," Ann put in. "I mean, I know people on TV are fake, that they'll say whatever they want, but seeing it happen in person is garbage."

"I wonder if this trip was for the benefit of the people who buy into this stuff, even if they say they don't," Akira noted. He noticed Kawakami-sensei nearby and thought of her in a more flattering light, and then smiled. "Or maybe someone wanted us to see this in person to show us that, teach us to be careful of what we see so we can think for ourselves."

Ryuji scoffed. "Dude, you think there's any teacher in the school like that?"

"One or two, maybe, but that's all it would take. Who knows?"

It might have been a trick of the light, but it seemed like Kawakami-sensei straightened with pride and glanced his way.

"Well, I'm gonna grab a drink," Ryuji said. "You want somethin'?"

"Water is fine," Akira replied.

Ann replied, "I'll come with you and see what they have."

Those two went off, leaving Akira in the corner.

There was a shuffling in his bag. Morgana peeked out. "He had an answer for everything, didn't he?"

"They probably went over the questions in advance," Akira answered, "and it will be days before they post that on TV. Lots of time to edit things and make them look good."

"Maybe, but instead of our targets or where we came from, he was focused on our methods. Has anyone else talked about that?"

"Not that I've heard," Akira admitted.

Morgana looked to the side and then dove back into the bag. Footsteps approached and Akira turned.

It was Akechi, the Detective Prince.

"Hello there," he greeted. "I'm Akechi Goro, but I'm sure you know that already."

Akira nodded in reply. "Kurusu Akira. Good morning."

"I have to admit, I wasn't expecting your kind of pushback when I was scheduled to come onto the show today. And I mean that in a good way."

"How is that a good thing? Don't these shows usually handle their guests with soft gloves?"

Akechi smiled. "They do, and that's my point. I prefer a good discussion or even a capable opponent over being fed baby food."

Akira blinked. "Was I an opponent?"

"Metaphorically, yes. 'In order for there to be progress, there must be both thesis and antithesis.' We need counterpoints to our points or we're just talking in an echo chamber."

"And you don't want that?"

"Correct. I prefer to learn from people as much as possible and expand my horizons wherever I can. You did as much with your point on the people the Phantom Thieves are targeting. Thanks for that."

Akira bit his tongue to stop from taking the bait. Instead he shrugged. "The point I made was the only one I had."

"Still, the fact that you made it, and as clearly as you did, is impressive. Particularly considering, shall we say, your classmates and their attempts at communication."

Akira couldn't keep from glancing at those classmates, and it was at that point he noticed more than a few glares of anger or envy pointed his way from both boys and girls. "There's nothing I can do about that," he noted, looking back, "but I do take your point."

"You're guarded," Akechi observed. "I hope my reputation doesn't make you uncomfortable."

"I don't let things like that get to me. I just don't have much to say about the Phantom Thieves. It's a big topic at school that's been beaten to death by everyone and their cat. It would be nice to hear about something else for a change."

Akechi sniffed the air, then smiled. "Well, would you be open to speaking to me again sometime?"

"I'm sure we move in different circles, and I'm busy most days."

"So am I, but I mean during the occasional evening. You smell like curry and coffee, a combination that's particular to a small cafe in Yongen-Jaya called Leblanc."

"You know about it?"

"From my partner in crime, Niijima Sae. She goes there sometimes and I've visited a time or two as well."

"I've met her."

"Really? What a coincidence. Are you there often?"

"Generally. I'm staying with the owner."

"Oh?"

"It's complicated."

"I won't pry then." Akechi checked his phone. "I have to be going, but I hope we can carry this on sometime." He pulled his card out of a thin case. "Or if you have something about any other victims that you want to pass on."

Akira took the card, glanced at it and pocketed it. "Sure, if anything comes up. Or maybe we'll run into each other at Leblanc."

"Perhaps so. Maybe even by chance. After all, the method of an action's execution speaks to the action itself, no?" He laughed at some inside joke. "Thanks again for speaking to me, Kurusu-san."

"Yeah, likewise." Akira watched the detective go, now stuck listening to the attention he got from his classmates. More than one was incredulous of his luck, and others couldn't believe that he let the famous Detective Prince leave without getting his autograph. Many were talking about him loud enough to hear clearly, and he leaned against the wall and ignored them.

Ryuji returned with drinks in hand and Ann in tow, asking, "Man, what'd you do to kick the hornet's nest this time?"

For a moment longer Akira watched the door Akechi left through, then he replied, "Had a conversation with that Detective Prince. He came and talked to me, that is."

"Just like that?"

"Seems so. He liked my answer before, I guess." Akira shuffled over so he could use the two as cover. "Morgana, what's your read on him?"

The cat poked his head out. "He seemed normal and sounded interested in you."

"I'm hearing a 'but' in there."

"Maybe it was because I could only hear him, but I couldn't get a feel for where he was coming from. He might really just want to talk to you again, Joker, but I couldn't tell if there was more to him than that. There was no clear subtext to what he was saying."

"That's what I thought too. He could have been holding something back and I'm not sure if I'd know if he did. Or he could be sincere and I can't tell that, either."

"Would he be a good detective if he let things like that out so easily?" Ann asked.

Ryuji shrugged. "Dunno. I mean, is he a good detective? Or is he just a pretty face they put in front of the camera?"

"He says he wants to talk again," Akira mused. "I'll ask him, if I think about it."

The call went up from the teachers to get ready to leave. The Thieves trailed behind the crowd, and while the card in Akira's pocket was a poignant reminder of the day, by the time they left the building he'd put it out of his mind.

7 7 7

It was later that night when Makoto's phone rang. She'd just finished cooking dinner, trying a new recipe and taking Sis's preferences into consideration. Everything was set to the side and waiting to be dished up, and she checked the screen.

Principal Kobayakawa.

She frowned, then answered it.

"Niijima-san," he greeted. "Thank you for taking my call so late at night."

"Of course, sir. How can I help you?"

"I was going over your report and wanted to confirm what you saw. You feel that Suzui-san was assaulted by Kamoshida-sensei?"

"All evidence leads to that, yes. The police will have to speak to the medical staff on their findings, but I have done what I can."

The principal gushed, "And you have done an exemplary job, truly. Which is why I feel like you are the best choice to help us with a new concern."

"A new what?"

"You remember how the Phantom Thieves claimed credit when Kamoshida-sensei was accused, correct?"

"Yes. I saw pictures of their calling card and heard that they called him out personally."

"I don't know if you watch the news, but they named and attacked another person. An artist named Madarame Ichiryusai."

Makoto nodded. "I heard this as well. Someone showed me the footage. Why does this concern us, though? He's not tied to Shujin."

"Not entirely true, I'm afraid. Some of our staff have revealed an uncomfortable connection to him. Former students of his, those who learned under him personally, that sort of thing."

"They should be safe if they admit this to the police," Makoto pointed out. "From his confession, it seems he victimized many people in the art world and outside of it."

"Exactly what I said, Niijima-san! Honesty is the best solution to these problems. Which is why I'm a bit concerned about our school. You see, with the Phantom Thieves acting again, it has put us in an uncomfortable position. Shujin was the first place where they revealed themselves, and the police have already called."

"About what?"

"Further connections. They spoke to several of our students who were suspected to be connected to Madarame-san, and a few were more thoroughly investigated. They seem to think there might be a connection there. Now normally I wouldn't be concerned about this, but with so many unknowns, even mere suspicion carries weight. We should be certain that our boat is watertight before we go out to sea, if you take my meaning."

"And you want me to get involved?"

"You proved successful in your investigation with Suzui-san, didn't you? This proves that Kamoshida-sensei attacked her and acted alone. The punishment fits the crime. We need your dedication again, and I can promise you not only that letter of recommendation, but the personal gratitude of more instructors. These people have the best connections to some very prestigious universities."

Makoto was already processing this new development. "I'm not sure how much I can help with the Phantom Thieves," she admitted. "Suzui-san and Kamoshida-sensei, they are real people who did things or had things done to them. The Phantom Thieves are an unknown."

"I absolutely agree, and I realize that this is an unusual request. If there really aren't any leads that can be followed, then so be it – we have nothing to hide. But if there were some way we could buffer against any blowback, that would be a boon that none of us would forget."

Makoto nearly asked if he really thought the Phantom Thieves were the bad guys in this equation, but choked the question down. She knew from talking to Sis how sensitive a topic this was for some people. "I will look into this if anything comes up, but without any leads I don't have much to go on."

"I might be able to help you with that," Kobayakawa stated. "I've heard through some of my own connections that the new transfer student, Kurusu Akira, has been in discussions with his classmates regarding the Phantom Thieves. Talks during lunch, that sort of thing, and he does keep to himself. And since you pointed out so succinctly that he spoke to Suzui-san before she was attacked by Kamoshida-sensei, and that Kurusu-san was the one who mentioned it to you and then we got that confession in the auditorium, he seems like someone who knows something, or at least knows something more actionable than the rumors that have been going around."

"And you still feel that he wouldn't speak to you if you called him yourself?"

"Quite right, I'm afraid. I heard that you and Kawakami-sensei had a meeting with him that didn't go well. He's rebellious, that's a fact."

That meeting still stood out to Makoto, a day she couldn't place in her usual boxes and categories, and that irked her. "I will speak to him," she concluded. "I make no promises on the outcome."

"That is all I ask, Niijima-san. Thank you for taking the time to answer my call. I'll let you get back to your evening – well done once again."

The line went dead. Makoto set her phone down and mulled over the change in direction of events. She was glad Sis wasn't home yet, or she'd have to explain what the triumphant little smile on her face meant. Suzui-san had referred to her as the principal's lap dog, but this was a chance to help people and get deeper into the problems affecting the school. And through investigating the Phantom Thieves, she could answer the questions that had plagued her since she'd first seen that calling card.

She smacked her fist into her palm, resolved in her decision, and missed the faintest phantom whisper of encouragement rising from her soul.

7 7 7

Kobayakawa cut the call and smiled to himself. She'd bought it, he could tell. There had been the possibility that she wouldn't, but he'd planned his call correctly. Out of school hours when she wouldn't be expecting him, the right kind of flattery, the chance to prove herself so soon after she'd already done it once, and giving her the idea quickly so she would take it on naturally. Once he knew what made someone tick, getting them to dance to his tune was child's play. No one ever assumed the obsequious overweight man in the room could do the most damage.

It didn't hurt that Kobayakawa's situation had changed. When he'd first heard of Kamoshida's guilt, he'd tried to shuffle blame to others and save the school's reputation. But as rumors spread and evidence arose, that quickly proved untenable. As the police dug, he chose to let them. Without announcement or consultation, he simply stopped defending Kamoshida, as he had with Niijima-san in his conversation. The golden star of Shujin could collapse on his own, and after having formed his own network and used the students so hard – now recorded and presentable to authorities thanks to Niijima-san's efforts – he would only pull himself into his crater.

Now that the sharks had tasted blood in the water, they would have their sacrifice. But that was rarely sufficient, so it was time for a new lamb. The Phantom Thieves presented the ideal opportunity, a ghost to distract the spotlight while he worked his magic and set up another target to take the fall. The sister of an attorney was a great choice – she could weather the storm of her failures behind her family's reputation, whatever the end outcome might be. And if a nobody teacher like Kawakami and the delinquent on his last strike happened to be found particularly close to Kamoshida, it would only make sense given their dubious connections. Better yet, it would look like justice to the public and to those who held the school's purse strings. Things would go on as they had before while the truly important people would remember on whose watch the school's reputation was restored.

Kobayakawa poured himself another drink and waited for his plans to bear fruit. All he had to do was be patient, and after this long at the game, he'd grown very good at it.

7 7 7

That Saturday, Akira went to Inokashira Park after school. It wasn't just for the peace and quiet that drew him there, though he made it sound like such when he told Sakura-san where he'd be. He found a stone table off the beaten path, out of view of the passersby.

"Checkmate."

And proceeded to have his backside handed to him by Togo Hifumi in their second practice session. He'd done his research, looked up strategies and ideas to bring with him so he wasn't wasting her time, but he could see her determination to win and her talent for the game.

"Shall we go again?" she asked.

"Of course," he answered. "One more, then I'll get you."

She smirked. One might call her arrogant, but given the skill she'd exhibited so far, it could also be said that she'd earned it. She graciously allowed him to go first.

Akira set up his pieces and took the lead. He'd watched her and noted that she liked her lance pieces a lot. Charging in right from the start, relying on her momentum and her opponent's confusion to carry her forward, she was a fiercer player than her looks and demeanor indicated.

So when she tried the same trick on him, he stymied her by setting a trap for her lance piece. She didn't take the bait, but she did give him a look that told him she didn't appreciate him blocking her strategy.

A few more moves had him building up his pieces on one side and her doing the same.

"You're better than I expected," Hifumi commented, moving her bishop.

"Is that your way of saying I'm good?"

"Not quite. Not with a play like that." She nodded to where he'd left a pawn within striking distance of her rook.

"What's wrong with it?"

"You've left your flank open. It wouldn't take much to break your lines and hit your rear."

"That's true, but you're only a threat if you take the shot."

She raised an eyebrow. "A clever taunt? Or do you doubt that I will?"

Akira shrugged, expression carefully bland.

It seemed she expected to be able to read him, because she got a cutely frustrated look on her face when she realized she couldn't. "Hmph. Well, as your instructor I will show you. It will take me only three moves and I'll have you."

He glanced at her and let his smile show. "I agree, about three moves. But I only need two." He moved his bishop through a break in his formation, putting her king in check.

She sputtered, then brought her rook in to break the check. But that left her lance open to his knight, and when he took it she had his bishop cornered. He let the piece go, then brought his lance in to take her rook and promote the piece. Back and forth it went until she caught his open flank and broke through. He kept her guessing while she cornered him and protected her soft spots. She was quite good at capitalizing on the pieces to do more than one thing, and when she gestured to him to concede, she glowered when he refused and fought to the end. He still lost, but he kept her working for it.

Finally she beat him, and then noted, "It's disrespectful to keep the game going if you know you can't win."

"You make it sound like you've never lost."

"What do you mean? You were finished four moves ago. Surrendering when you know you have no way of turning the game around is a perfectly practical approach."

"I didn't know that, though. And even if I did, you can still make mistakes." Akira tapped the board. "The fight isn't over until it's over, Togo-san, and playing by the opponent's rules is doing them the favor, but not you."

Hifumi frowned in thought. "Perhaps."

"And besides, I can still learn a lot even if I know I'm going to lose. I'd never get anywhere if I gave up just because you're better than me, would I?"

That brought a small smile to her face. "I agree. Apologies, that was conceited of me. In professional games, that is the norm, but you are determined to learn from every experience, aren't you?"

"Of course. That wouldn't be respectful of your time otherwise, would it?"

She nodded. "A fair point, and it proves your own from before. There is much I can learn from this, even if I won."

"I'm glad you see that. I feel like that's a good place to end this." He rose and bowed. "Have you found a place to practice yet?"

"No," she frowned. "The church has been no bar to the more… enthusiastic of my fans, and I don't want to cause them trouble. I don't want to stay at school, either, given that some of my classmates are especially dedicated to me. That would only cause fights."

An idea came to mind. "Why not a private establishment? Somewhere that people need to have a reason to be and would have to pay if they wanted to stay?"

"That might work, but what would the appeal to a business owner be to have me there?"

"If you start taking on challengers and having matches there, that's an uptick in business. There are people who would see the benefits of that."

Hifumi looked at him carefully. "Can I assume from your proposition that you have a place in mind?"

"Yes, actually. It's called Cafe Leblanc in Yongen-Jaya. The proprietor serves coffee and curry, and he's pushy enough that he'd tell off the people who were bothering you."

"I've heard of this place. I'm not one for coffee so I never gave it much thought."

"Sakura-san might be able to change your mind on that. He knows his stuff when it comes to food and drinks."

"You know him well?"

"Not… exactly. I'm staying there, and if you can practice without those clowns bothering you and he can get some extra profit, I figure, what's the harm? I'll talk to him if you'd like."

"I'll think about it. I wouldn't want to impose."

"It wouldn't be an imposition. Give it some thought, though. If you're learning this much in our meetings, then maybe other opponents will teach you even more."

"That is appealing," she admitted. It was clear from her dedication to the game that she was aiming to play professionally.

"Let me know what you think," he said in parting. Best not to push too hard, as Sakura-san would say. Or maybe the old man would encourage being charming and forward. For how few women Akira saw hanging around Leblanc with bated breath, it was hard to give the guy much credit.

Akira left the park and made the most of the rest of his day. It was nice to be able to enjoy his time in the city without having anything pressing. No Phantom Thief business, no lunatics exploiting the weak, just the chance to be a normal student.

Two days later on Monday, the living refutation of that sentiment came to him in the form of Niijima-senpai.

Akira was going to his shoe locker – secured against any intrusion thanks to one bad experience involving a pop-up toy and a lot of negative expectations of his classmates – keys out and all, when the Student Council President herself was seen standing next to it. The murmurs of passersby had already begun, Ryuji and Ann watched carefully and had his back, and Niijima-senpai waited seemingly oblivious to it all. She was watching him as he approached, and he allowed his ego to posit the notion that she heard or saw nothing else because she was focused on him.

"Good morning, Kurusu-san," she greeted. "I was waiting for you."

Perhaps his ego wasn't entirely wrong.

"Good morning to you too, Niijima-senpai," he answered, mostly serious but with an amused smile on his face. "What can I do for you?"

"I had some questions for you, of a rather personal nature."

The suspicion and resentment from the students around her were palpable, a hazy murderous intent seeking a victim to envelop and consume. Akira glanced at the sources of that feeling, knew he'd probably never have a better chance, and smiled wider. "And you'd like some answers to these questions?"

"That would be nice."

"Then I'd love to accommodate you. But why don't we do it over lunch?"

The students around her flinched. The other Thieves looked at him like he was crazy. Niijima-senpai just blinked. "Lunch?" she asked as though the concept were unexpected.

"Yeah. If the questions are of a personal nature, then we should discuss them with some privacy, and given the nature of our last meeting, something more pleasant to set the stage might be in order, so I invite you to lunch with me tomorrow. Up on the school roof, where it's out of the way. We can discuss this matter of yours there and then."

It sounded like the invitation for a date, had the wording and the intent behind it, and was definitely interpreted as such by the surrounding student body at large. Ann looked to the side, Ryuji bit his cheek to avoid saying anything, and the hateful glares from behind Niijima-senpai were more and more resembling those of Shadows.

But Niijima-senpai nodded. "That's a sensible decision. Tomorrow it is, then. I'll meet you at your class and we can go from there." She bowed politely, turned and moved through the crowd that parted for her out of instinct, and was gone.

Akira watched her go, then looked back at the threatening crowd before him, those whose ire was made apparent without so much as a word because no words would have sufficed. And he cocked an eyebrow and smiled a smile that said it all: It's on.