Author's Notes

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Nightly: Minato is the real big bad of this fic after all. It's pretty refreshing to follow what is essentially Death itself as he rampages though P5 and ruins everyone's plans. Yald will not be the only one shitting his pants and he'll have to open up a club just to fit everyone in. Membership isn't free either pft. Yu is such a good guy, having the courage to go up against someone ten times his size, but as they say, sometimes things just don't go well for the self proclaimed hero.

Guest: Yu will be a bigger obstacle than anything P5 can offer natively as a threat to Minato. But he can only do so much even with his current resources. As for for a hypothical battle between him and Yald? Yald wouled wipe him sadly.

Janson Wu: He'll need the Dragon Balls and mega hex to solve the issues he's facing now.

The streets of Shibuya bustled with life. At the changing signal of traffic, hasty footsteps sounded as people flooded the crosswalks, quickly crossing to the other side. Ignoring the world around them, businessmen called away on their phones, while students hurried home, all under the intense light of the evening sun.

"Yes. The meeting before the art show will be this week." One middle aged man said, pressing the phone against his ear, walking absentmindedly. A blur of blue flashed between the crowd, yet it was too fast for the human perception. The worker's eyes widened, feeling a sudden urge to follow the blue as his mind became blank, as if he were put in a deep trace. Slowly, it beckoned for him, urging him to answer its call, until he arrived in a secluded part of the city.

"Hand over everything you've got"

A voice as sweet as nectar came from the ether, its otherworldly command swept over his soul. He followed its direction, eagerly grabbing his possessions, tossing everything to it like he was giving to an old friend, wallet, bags, and even his employee badge.

"Good. Now head home. You'll wake up thinking you went out drinking and passed out drunk."

At the snap of a finger, the charmed worker disappeared. By next morning, he will have no recollection of what happened here.

Minato smirked to himself, looking through all the items he'd acquired throughout the day. He had several wallets, cards, as well as larger items he could pawn off at the black market. Using the charm spell in this way made acquiring funds much easier, and thus after every attempt he would check the contents of his plunderings. Out of the several hauls, he noticed some golden tickets among the stash, likely from the salary man that just left. They had a peculiar cloud pattern to them, with the name 'Madarame' printed in bold text.

"Madarame huh?"

The bluenette put a hand to his chin, the name ringing a bell. Musing, he remembered the geezer being mentioned multiple times in the news. Of course, Minato never really paid attention to the artist, but it was hard to avoid someone that famous.

"These tickets should fetch a good price with his upcoming show."

"S-stop! Stop! Stopppp the carrr!"

Zooming across Mementos at incredible speeds, Reaper dug his foot into the pedal, making a sharp left, cutting through a barrage of shadows, splattering dark ichor onto the walls. Tire marks burned into the train tracks of the collective palace, as he drove the vehicle to tear through waves of enemies with wind blowing through his hair.

"T-two more turns to go before the target!" Morgana shouted, barely registering the movements happening around him. His vision blurring at the speed at which their driver had dashed through the entire floor, his head spinning.

"Slow down! You're gonna hit a wall!" Panther held on for safety in the back, along with Skull who was barely stopping himself from being thrown out the window.

"I feel like throwing up!"

"No can do, we're almost there!" The bluenette cheered, forcing the car up a ramp, charging a speed spell before releasing his hands from the wheel, sending the vehicle into a zero gravity free fall. Below them, a shadow horde ran in panic when a sudden rain of gunshots showered down from above. Bullets digging into their weak armor, golden fire eating away at their sorry forms in slow motion as Joker finished them off.

Then, snapping his fingers, Reaper boosted the car with an emerald whirlwind, throwing it into the crimson vortex, sucking them into the deep void, disappearing to the otherside in an instant.

"Whaoooooo!"

Landing on the train tracks with tires screeching to a halt, the vehicle finally lost momentum, before coming to a rough stop, jolting everyone inside it.

"And we're here. Thank you for riding with us at Reaper airlines." Winking at no one in particular, Reaper announced to the party with a bright smile. But this only earned him a few groans and aches from the others.

"Ow, I think my back's broken." Skull filed out of the car, having no energy to argue anymore. He was then followed by Morgana slumping to the ground in agony, leaving only Panther and Joker in any state to converse. Between them, one was fuming while the other had eyes of admiration.

"You! What the hell was that driving?" Panther shouted. "We could have died!"

"I'm not very good at it." Reaper admitted, "Only found out now myself today too." He said sheepishly, blaming his amnesia for his lack of knowledge, which made the twin-tailed girl speechless. It was true that she couldn't blame completely.

"We should switch drivers if you feel Reaper is terrible at it." Joker cut in, his eyes hiding a hidden mirth.

"Not all adults have a license I guess." Panther clutched her head, "Fine. We did push you into that role too." She apologized to the bluenette, her rage fading to guilt. When they first entered Mementos, the teens all eyed him in anticipation, expecting him to be able to drive them around without issue. It was a misplaced bet that had cost them their sanities for the next few hours.

Reaper snickered inwardly, having driven like a maniac on purpose. The team needed to learn how to operate the Mona Van themselves if his plan was going to bear fruit, and this was the first step. Setting that aside, he was not surprised to learn of this place being a collective palace for humanity as a whole. Musing to himself, he turned to face their target who was glaring at them in silence for multiple minutes on end, a certain rage emanating from his pathetic yellow eyes. The grimace on his face slowly twisted into a nasty scowl from being ignored all this time. And then he spoke, grabbing the rest of the party's attention.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Whoa, someone's mad. Are you Nakanohara?"

Everyone turned, watching the conversation play out between the veteran and the shadow.

"And what if I am? Why are you bothering me like this?"

"Oh it's a simple request really," Reaper took his hands out of his pocket, raising both in the air in a casual shrug, "stop stalking your ex and move on with your life."

"Who gave you the authority to tell me what to do with my time?! You think you're some big shot? She's my property and I can do whatever I want with her-"

BANG

Nakanohara twisted away barely in time, avoiding a shot aimed for his leg, screaming. Then another came, forcing him on the defensive, backing away from the party.

"W-what the fuck is wrong with people?!"

"Joker, Panther, teach him a lesson and let's go home."

Stepping aside, Joker blew the smoke for his pistol, pulling his mask to reveal Arsene, launching multiple stray blobs of darkness at Nakanohara who morphed into a tiny red demon, getting caught in the blast. Then, just as he was about to recover, Panther threw her whip, wrapping it around his body, dragging it against the concrete, letting it slam into one of the pillars.

"Keuck! I'll make all of you pay for this!" Not deterred by the recent bashing, the little runt was fast, rushing towards the two with its fists out, throwing down a hammer like blow on Joker, clashing with the wing of his Persona while its master emerged from below, brandishing his dagger in the dark. He delivered a horizontal cut across the shadow's mid section, earning a pathetic screech, forcing it to respond with a headbutt that sent them both to ground, denting the concrete below.

"Shit!" Rolling away from his opponent, Joker saw Panther coming with a fireball to the runt's face, blinding it, then grabbing it with her whip once more, swinging towards Reaper who raised his fist to punch the little shit back like a tether ball. The momentum delivered Nakanohara in his direction.

"Now just knock him back." Reaper commanded.

With no hesitation, the Wild Card spun his dagger, smacking the handle at the shadow's body, earning a sick crack, throwing it back at the veteran who caught it by the neck, squeezing the monster in his palm.

Frosty eyes bore back at the creature, a surge of death was felt throughout the collective, its waves of corrosion eating away at the shadow's very existence. Closing the grip gradually, Reaper spoke up again.

"I ask again, will you leave your ex be…?"

Nakanohara froze, every inch of his body screamed to run. A dark shadow stretching into infinity watched him, blank eyes gazed back at the human before him as Death itself was demanding him to stop.

"Y-Yes!" He choked out. Reaper tossed him to the ground, "P-please! I'll do anything! J-just leave me be!"

"Is that so? Do we have a promise?"

Both Joker and Panther aimed their guns at the shadow.

"Completely! A-as a civil servant of city hall! I would never tell a lie! Eep!"

Nakanohara shrieked, feeling the bluenette patting his round, devil-like head, gently with a hollow smile. A pressure so intense as if he were being marked by a beast.

"Good. Now leave us some yen and go back to the real world. Repent and apologize for your sins"

The shadow nodded eagerly, shaking at the presence of Death. However, there was some hesitation in Nakanohara's body. Looking towards the group, he began to glow an ethereal white light, yet Reaper sensed he had more to say.

"B-before I go back, may I make a request…?"

Nakanohara jumped when he saw the bluenette's brow rise. To ask a favor of Death? That was quite bold for a human.

"Speak up."

"If you guys really are changing people's hearts," He choked, "Can you look into a scumbag called Madarame? Please, if it's anyone that needs a wake up call, it's him."

Reaper smirked.

"Sure."

Sipping a cold soda, Minato enjoyed another mega scoop of his Tartarus tower ice cream cone, shocking everyone around him once again. This time, no accident had befallen his precious treasure. The yen pocketed from Nakanohara was enough of a sum to treat the entire party to a small ice cream buffet. Maybe he did scare him a little too much.

"So this Madarame guy. He's holding an exhibit soon isn't he?" Ryuji laid back in his seat, a wide grin on his face. "From the rumors I found online about the guy, he's done some pretty questionable stuff."

At first, no one suspected much of the famous artist. Until they found there were plenty of open forums airing the old man's dirty laundry for the world to see. Claims of abuse, plagiarism, and other unsavory stories surrounded the older man.

"They could just be baseless slander." Akira scrolled through his phone, "Or it could be a different Madarame altogether."

"That's true. We have no real way to confirm Nakanohara's info at all."

"Why don't we speak with Nakanohara in the real world? We can ask him about Madarame that way."

"But how'd we explain ourselves? We can't just go up to him and converse about a touchy subject with reason." Akira pointed out.

"Then we should go to Madarame directly."

Minato spoke up, pulling out multiple golden tickets, placing them on the table. Stunned faces circulated throughout the group.

"Bro, I didn't know you were a fan of fine art."

"Actually, I won them through a grocery store lottery." He lied and he knew it. In Japan, it was common to have lottery events in shops, and winning the grand prize usually meant an all expense paid trip to famous destinations or events. And here, Minato just happened to get very 'lucky'.

"All we have to do is go scope out that art exhibit to see him live and question the rumor mill surrounding him." No doubt there will be fans of the artist attending the exhibit, but that wouldn't weed out people looking for dirt on him. And when events as big as this come to the number one city in the nation, people are bound to gossip.

"I see we're you're coming from, but this won't let us confirm if he is the Madarame mentioned. There's also the problem of finding a palace if he has one at all." Akira said in frustration, which made the bluenette chuckle.

"Why be concerned about the finer details now? If this Madarame isn't the right one but those rumors hold weight, we can kill two birds with one stone." He stabbed his spoon into two scoops of ice cream at once. "You all wanted a big target, yea? We can take care of both, plain and simple."

"That's a good point. The more hearts we change, the faster we'll grow too." Morgana popped his head from Akira's bag, handing his friend an eraser. He gladly took it, correcting a paragraph he had written for his studies.

"So now that we have our organization's plan out of the way," Minato arched an eyebrow at the teens, "Let's make sure no one fails their exams."

A hard gulp echoed throughout the Ice cream shop, their table being revealed to be filled with study material for the upcoming test in a few days. Icy eyes looked down on his pawns, as the veteran spoke in a borrowed elegance, emulating a certain redheaded heir.

"Those who fail the Shujin exams under my tutelage shall face a painful execution."

"D-don't say things like that man. You sound like you're serious!"

"Come on, it's Mina's way of encouraging us, I doubt he'll bully you too much, Ryuji." Ann teased, drawing red X marks all over the other's notebook. "This one's wrong, this one's not right either, and the last one you get half a point!"

"Lady Ann has such a way with words."

"I could say the same for your Japanese." Ryuji started marking the girl's mistakes, it was amazing how he managed to catch some of the more intricate problems.

"Wow Ryuji! You really improved on your grammar." Minato clapped, "I hope you review our lessons for today, for the foreseeable future." A smile. An unusually creepy yet gentle smile plastered on the bluenette's face, sending shivers down everyone's spine. The former track star felt a weight lift from his shoulders when the man finally shifted his attention to Akira.

"And as for you."

"You don't need to worry about me dropping out. I won't fail."

"I know that."

"Then why ask?"

"Have you thought about being ranked number one in your entire school?"

"Dude! That's crazy. You want him to score in the same league as Niijima? He'd have to get near perfect marks for that!"

"Sheesh, way to encourage someone, Ryuji. But that's a tough ask even for Akira." Throughout their recent alliance, everyone had exchanged intel on eachother, they learned how the Wild Card's grades were the only saving grace he had from being expelled immediately from Shujin. "Wouldn't scoring the top place also attract everyone's attention? He already has so many eyes on him from Kamoshida."

Minato nodded, "That's right. From what you guys are telling me, it appears the top brass at Shujin aren't very happy with him. There may even be a chance that prideful principal of yours will try using him as a scapegoat somehow in the future considering his criminal record."

"So your plan is for me to get top rank to stand out on purpose, right?" Akira concluded, "From here, Kobayakawa will have no choice but to acknowledge me and keep his hands off for the sake of Shujin's reputation.

An evil aura escaped from the veteran, "Yep. I'm sure he's trying to silence those calling card rumors at the moment looking at the media landscape. While he has no evidence, he could still accuse you somehow to shift the attention away from the main topic."

Hearing the man, Akira gained an equally evil aura, "I see. Can I request some extra lessons after this?"

"Imagine the fallout if Shujin's top rank were to fall from grace. You'll be in the same league as your student council president, the role model of the school."

"And if they have dirt on me, what will they say about her? The whole place will lose its structure."

"I like the way you scheme."

After the meeting, everyone left, aside from Akira and Minato. A huge stack of textbooks laid out on the table of the ice cream shop. Both Ann and Ryuji decided to head home, while Morgana opted for a stroll outside as to not interrupt the two inside.

"This place is pretty noisy, how about we can go somewhere else? Somewhere more quiet."

Hearing the proposal, Akira nodded. But then he noticed a certain glint in the bluenette's eyes. The persona in his soul responding with a subtle, warm energy.

"Somewhere devoid of people?"

"Somewhere, where the distortions are strong and where the shadows roam." Minato said serious, "You see, your grades alone won't be enough to grow that wild power of yours."

"Wild you say? Why not help everyone grow equally?"

"Because you're able to shift personas around, I believe you will be able to help everyone else grow too. Can you tell me if you know all the elements available or when to use them in any situation? What about the weight class or healing spells each persona can have?"

While everyone else had only one persona with strict limitations such as elements, class, weight, and abilities, Akira was deemed an abnormality. He could become whatever he wanted, or whoever he wanted to be on the battlefield. It was akin to switching between a healer, tanker, and attacker all at once in an MMORPG without having to rely on no one in particular for support.

"So where do we start?"

Stepping the dark recess of Mementos, passing through bulging veins and rusting tracks, Akira and Minato arrived at the wall blockade that halted their progress forward. A wall the bluenette purposely left up for the Wild Card, a problem for him to solve on his own. Raising an arm to throw away the last drips of ichor from his hand, the veteran beckoned for the boy to come forward.

"Now that we've finished our warm up by clearing all the floors, let's get down to business." He cracked his knuckles, not dripping a swear. Meanwhile, his counterpart was showing earlier signs of exhaustion from hunting all the shadows.

"That wasn't it?!"

"Did you think running through mobs would be enough? Even shadow Kamoshida would wipe this entire place clean without much effort."

In a blink, Minato appeared in front of Akira, his hand raised up in the air and Akira flinched for a second, took a step back and immediately raised his guard, which Minato found somewhat promising. Startled but had enough sense to raise his defenses but that was just a bluff. The veteran persona user exhaled softly and Akira just stared at him, finding the little smirk on his face spooky and menacing.

"Your goal today? Land one hit on me. I will heal your injuries from time to time." Minato explained the rules to the younger persona user and then frowned at him, immediately jolting Akira into a fighting stance, already panting out of sheer anxiety. "And don't hold back…."

"Go for killing blows!"

Teleporting behind him, the bluenette lazily threw a roundhouse kick to the Wild Card's head and Akira only barely ducked under and survived what was sure to be a concussion at best and brain damage at worst. The wild card knew his 'mentor' only threw the kick to gauge him and his reaction timings but Akira skidded back to safety and his breathing had gotten worse.

That damn aura around Minato was suffocating but also infuriating. Killing him one second and gone the next. Rinse and repeat and if Minato was doing this to get a rise out of him then he was succeeding.

Akira was furious, now glaring at the bluenette with fire in his dark eyes. Leaping with the heel of his foot, he threw his dagger at target with Minato knocking it back and then catching the boy aiming at him from above using the wings of Arsene. However, he was two slow and the veteran easily dodged, sidestepping the crash and yawning as he walked off but kept his eyes on his pupil, now appearing slightly disappointed.

"Not bad. But too obvious"

Akira sprinted at him again, buffed and improved with a series of spells but Minato merely walked towards the impending skirmish with slow steps, curious and even hopeful that Akira would surprise him and actually land a hit but when the wild card started the melee off with a sloppy hook off a lunge, Minato knew he was dealing with a lost cause. That hook was followed by a series of dumb punches and kicks, with no technique behind them and no idea of timing but as Akira flailed in an attempt to hit him, Minato withdrew one hand from his pocket, eyed his target and after a blind lunge from Akira, the veteran found his opening.

SMACK

Something hit Akira and the younger persona collapsed to the ground, mind half blank because the pain was hard to compute at first. He had battled shadows, and shadow Kamoshida got him good a few times but nothing, nothing compared to what he felt right now. It felt like a shotgun blast to the face, point blank but with the pain came shame and an intense feeling of rage and hatred because Minato hadn't punched him, he had slapped him down.

Akira, even when concussed, growled and raised his head to glare at the veteran persona user standing over him, showing him the same hand he had slapped him with. Minato was studying him carefully and he could tell Akira was pissed. There was nothing more disrespectful than a slap to face during the middle of a death match, as if to show that he could take his life at any moment and that he saw Akira as nothing more than a bitch.

The bluenette was expecting the newest wild card to give in to the hatred and attempt something stupid but surprisingly, Akira took a deep breath and after spitting out some blood, he gingerly rose to his feet and nodded at Minato in submission, understanding what he was up against and the difference in power. The man almost chuckled. Guess he was wrong. Akira was not a lost cause after all.

"Good. You understand who you are fighting against." Minato said, offering some praise to the younger wild card. "And you know how to keep your emotions in check."

The shot still hurt like hell and Akira knew his face was swollen but the gaze from Minato was like a challenge to him. Give up for today and disappoint his new mentor or suck it up and get every bone in his body broken?

Akira clutched the mask on his face to convey his willingness to continue and Minato actually laughed.

"Very well…"

"Ack!" Feeling blood rush to his throat, Akira clutched his chest, feeling a few broken ribs. Springing up before Minato landed where he lay, smashing the concrete apart. Panicking, he summoned Arsene, shielding him from the next blow with his wings, as he pulled out his pistol, ready to fire at his attacker, but the next moment he was blown back by not only the shockwave of the clash but also a throbbing headache as his persona shattered upon impact with the veteran.

"Grahh! Seriously, fuck your trainning!" Weakness overtook him, even the healing spell having little effect on his mental state. And it all happened when Arsene disappeared. Just what was going on?"

"Nice move to use your Persona as a meat shield, genius. However, there are consequences as they are a part of you as well."

Noticing the bluenette stopping his onslaught, his aura growing demonic, "Change of plans, personas and weapons are too advanced for you right now. For here on out, I only permit you to only use your fists."

Akira felt his weapons being snatched away, giving him an opening to throw a punch straight at Minato's cheek. However the bluenette caught him with his palm. Only a brief sigh of disappointment before he found himself getting kneed in the abdomen, being grabbed by the hair as he crumpled, then tossed aside.

Not giving up, Akira rounded a corner, avoiding another fist smashing into a concrete pillar, he hid from his opponent. Just as Minato finished, he threw a blow to the bluenette's side but missed, narrowly avoiding an oncoming left hock as he bent down just in time, but this left him vulnerable as Minato caught one of his wrists, pulling him up, doing a sharp upper cut on his chin, making him have contact with the ceiling of the dark metro station.

Dropping down to the ground, he felt himself recover again, but he was caught in a whirlwind of punches, kicks, jabs, a never ending barrage as Minato teleported from place to place for an opening. Avoiding a left jab here, twisting away from a fist there, Akira panickedly searched his surroundings for the next attack in the darkness, until his eyes widened, raising both of his arms to block an oncoming fist, feeling his bones shatter, he managed to hold out before being thrown again, this time from the shockwave.

Loss after loss, heal after heal, hours passed and he was non closer to his goal. Blood dripping from his lips, he stood his ground, not giving up. He raised his fists, a certain crazed determination and his broken mind.

"I'm not satisfied until I see a blamplish on that face," he muttered, dazed out of his mind. Bracing himself, he waited for another hit to come, however he only felt a gentle breeze swishing by, with Minato's right hand mere inches away from his face.

"Huh?"

CRACK

Pain akin to a deadly poison flowed through his system, freezing his body in place. Every fiber of his being screaming as he struggled to not fall out, his vision blacking in and out. His heart was about to burst from the pressure, as he saw his arm snap in two, bone and muscle mangled into an unnatural shape. Clenching his teeth, he held in a scream, watching the cold eyes of the monster before him, waiting for him to admit defeat.

"What's wrong? Get up."

Akira gazed back with blood shot eyes.

"People will die if you don't learn to protect yourself."

Slowly, the boy dragged himself forward, barely able to stand, holding his arm now limp in his hand. At the thought of death, Akira had no choice but to get back up. What if Minato was absent? What if they only had him to rely on? He understood the consequences quite well, and it shook him to the core. He fought back the urge to puke, throwing up chunks of blood on the dark ground below.

Minato crossed his arms, waiting for the inevitable. A kid his age would surely break, seeing him pitifully puking on the ground. He noticed the fear in his eyes, the inability to run, the endless torture being inflicted on his body and soul, the constant tremble he held in his weakened state, the sight was enough to make anyone hurl. So the veteran waited, wondering if he would break.

But he rose from the ground once again. Which delighted the older Fool.

"Keep going."

He heard Akira mumble, maintaining his cool. No emotional outbursts, no complaints, not even asking for a break. In a way, the reply was both fearful, yet deranged, even taunting. Perhaps he was seconds away from losing it, titering on the edge between going off the deep end but held on just enough.

And so Minato was impressed. He reached out a hand, healing Akira back to full health.

"It's getting late. Go home."

"..."

"I overestimated your capabilities. We'll resume this another time."

"Yea…home is good."

Akira looked away, refusing to make eye contact with the bluenette. Their walk back to the surface was done in awkward silence. By the time they reached the streets of Yogen-Jaya, it was already nightfall.

"Well, see at the show. Good luck on the exam, sport."

He stood there, blankly watching Minato leave while he returned to the cafe. After closing the cafe, he ran to the bathroom, puking his guts out for the next few hours. That night, he neither spoke to Morgana, nor logged onto his usual group gaming sessions. Collapsing onto his bed, he tried his best to get to sleep, breaking out in a cold sweat from his shattered pride.

Closing his eyes, he drifted off, dreaming fo a faint voice that echoed in his sea.

I am thou and thou art I.

Thou shall be blessed with a shard of the World Arcana.

Days passed, one blending into the other. With the exams of Shujin flying by as Akira writes away at his papers. History, math, Japanese, English, and science, he had no problems completing the answers. In fact, they all seemed easy after the tutoring he had received. Although that came at the price of his sanity, thus gradually, his rage bubbled up with the occasional broken pencil, or torn note paper. To the others, he appeared to be engrossed in passing his exams, but his mind was replaying the beat down Minato had given him days ago. Try as he might, his frustration and fear made his hand shake, causing him to mess up and erase his answers over and again. That was how he spent his days until the day of the art exhibit arrived.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" Morgana meowed, "You're not worried about your score are you?"

Akira shook his head, whispering to his cat on the train. His body swayed against the back and forth motion of the cart. Dark circles appearing on his tired eyes.

"I'll be fine. Just a family issue."

He made up a quick lie. He was too scared to reveal the truth for the fear of what might happen if he did.

"Oh…well I hope things are doing well back home."

"Don't worry about it. Let's focus on the issue at hand for now."

"If that's what you want…"

Morgana retreated back into his bag. Akira appeared less confident in the past few days, remaining quiet, burying himself in his books. The cat was worried, but decided it was not his place to step into a family matter for the sake of keeping peace.

When they arrived at the exhibit, Akira greeted the rest of his party. First was Ann, then Ryuji, and finally he barely pushed out a hello to Minato. He put on a fake smile, one that was noticeable only to his counterpart.

"It's nice to be free of exams for once!" Ann stretched his arms, smiling.

"Yea! I feel like the questions weren't that bad this time round."

"What about you? Do you think you did well?"

Akira struggled not to look away, "I definitely scored within the top five." He could feel Minato's watchful gaze. His mask will not crack here, no not now. He then felt someone pat his back, his body growing tense.

"Good job! Let's hope you receive the top spot."

Minato made sure to emphasize the last words, of which could be interpreted as a veiled threat. After all, he had to make sure his meal ticket wasn't kicked out of school for something he didn't do. That principal will face his wrath if he even so thinks of expulsion.

"Of course I will. Who do you take me for?"

"Confidence is great. I'll teach you how to get elected council president next."

"With all the hate I get, you'd have to be a miracle worker."

"Rule with an iron fist. Who said you had to be nice?"

Ryuji shivered, "Can you two stop? You're both acting like gangsters in a mafia drama."

"More importantly, why's that guy over there staring at us?" Ann saw someone creepily watching her, concern laced her face. The line to get into the exhibit was long, filled with a vast crowd, yet someone was clearly stalking the group.

"That doesn't look very good." Morgana peered through his bag, "Is he a friend of anyone here?"

Ryuji scratched his head, puzzled, "No, do you guys know him?"

"No, but he's been staring nonstop."

Ann hid behind Minato, shielding herself as the creep approached. It was a boy about their age dressed in striped formal wear with dark blue hair. Without much hesitation he greeted them, while Ann practically reached for her nonexistent whip.

"You! I've been looking all over for someone like you!"

"Hey! What are you staring at you stalk-"

Then the stranger passed the blonde, his focus landing on Minato. "There's something different about you. Something…sad, yet inspiring. A feeling I cannot quite express like an enigma surrounded by a dark mystery."

"Huh?"

"Is he crazy?"

"No way…"

Akira gulped, this guy had guts to confront the devil himself. He could practically sense the demonic aura emitting from Minato, although the stranger only grew more excited at his new find. Inwardly, he spoke a silent prayer for the boy.

"My name is Yusuke Kitagawa. I'm a student of master Madarame. Please, I have been stagnant in my recent works. However, I believe your presence could help enlighten me for my next piece, so I ask politely, will you star in my next painting?"

For a brief moment, the awkwardness was palpable in the air. No one dared to speak, resulting in an anxiety-inducing stand off between the two, then Minato cracked the tension, reaching out to shake Yusuke's hand. "You say you're a student of THAT Madarame? Why, I'm shocked someone with your education would reach out for a deal such as this."

"Oh, my pleasure. I just couldn't help but pick you out from the crowd. There's just something special about your presence."

Shaking hands, Minato signaled the rest to play along. Akira nodded, grabbing Ryuji before he could say anything stupid, with Ann completely doing a one eighty and welcoming Yusuke.

"Wow! So do you work under Madarame when he's producing a new piece? We're huge fans of your master's work!"

"I'm humbled, truly. Master Madarame has been one of the kindest mentors one could have."

Minato feigned an air of shyness, nudging Akira, the message was clear. Good cop, bad cop.

"But do you really want me as your model? I may not look like it but when it comes to art, however I'm pretty self conscious. Plus we're just here for the exhibit for today so our time is pretty limited."

A light breeze flowed down Akira's neck, the devil pretending to be humble was new.

"Wait guys. How do we know this isn't a scam?" The Wild Card faced Yusuke, "Can you prove you're Madarame's pupil? Otherwise, anyone can claim as such."

"Why of course I have proof." The proud student huffed, offense hidden in his tone. " In fact, why don't I invite everyone here to come backstage. Although master Madarame is busy, I'm sure he won't mind conversing with us for just a few minutes."

Checkmate, was the phrase exchanged between silent glances as Yusuke led them away from the public eye. Together, they were led to the back of the museum, through a number of doors being guarded by event staff. With each interaction, their new friend pulled out his work badge, until they arrived in a sizable break room. Largely occupied by workers rehearsing panel speeches, wheeling around works, and attending to an aging man seated in the middle. A female staff member brought him a cup of tea, accompanied by her male counterpart who typed away on an excel sheet, detailing the day's schedule.

"Ah, Yusuke, who have you brought in here?" Dressed in a dark kimono, gray hair pulled back, framed by an elderly visage, Madarame stood up from his seat, eagerly greeting his pupil.

"These are my guests, master. I believe I have found the inspiration for my next piece."

Madarame's head craned to observe the four people, scrutinizing them with a keen eye, "My apologies for the sudden interruption from my student. My name is Ichiryusai Madarame, an ordinary Japanese artist. Thank you for humoring my Yusuke, I hope he has not caused you all too much trouble." The old man bowed, polite as could be.

Noticing the man's peculiar gaze, Minato's eyes narrowed. "My word, he's not a bother at all. In fact, he's made our day, taking us back here to meet such a fine artist. Your works are an inspiration to us all, sir Madarame."

"No, no. I am but a mere man who resides in a shake with some artistic hobbies. Naturing my pupils and wishing for their wellbeing is one of the only true prides I have in this life."

Just as the artist spoke, the veteran noticed a crack in Yusuke's facade, an oh so twitch in his eye, singling there was more to the situation.

"Is that so? Then I'll be flattered to become his model if you'll allow me to. It was so sudden, me and my companions were at a lost for words when he told us he was studying under you."

"R-really Yusuke?" Taken aback, Madarame whispered to him, gesturing to Ann and then Minato. He was shocked at his student's choice, but accepted it after a moment of hesitation. Then he returned to greet the party again, "Well, it'll be a pleasure working with you. You're welcome to visit our shake any time you like, bring your companions if you'd like. I'm sure kids their age will enjoy the visit."

"Thank you! My name is Minato Arisato by the way. I serve as a tutor for them. They just finished their exams, so I thought I'd reward them for their excellence."

"What? No you-"

Akira grabbed Ryuji once again, letting Ann have a long sigh, introducing themselves according to the bluenette's plan. Starting with some lighter banter, time passed, until Madarame made his way to the grand opening, being approached and swarmed by all sorts of news media. Cameras flashed, microphones cracked to life, lingering on each and every word the artist spoke, surrounded by his saintly aura. As he was the main draw, the old man stood in the limelight, hogging the opening space, although this didn't mean there weren't any cameras filming the exhibit for extra footage. Taking his chance, Minato purposely walked in front of one of the news crews, explicitly giving a nudge and wave before passing by into the sea of people.

"Bro, you like being on TV that much?"

"I mean I was asked to be a model."

"Nevermind man."

Walking away, a sadistic grin laced Minato's face, hidden by the swarming crowd.

Leaning against the cool concrete, Akira put on a small earpiece, his friends following suit. Ryuji, Ann, and Morgana gathered themselves in the shadows, avoiding the curious eye of anyone passing by, waiting for their companion on the other line.

"Are you sure this is going to work?"

A brash voice echoed.

"Do you have any better ideas?"

A female voice followed.

"According to the rumors, Madarame abuses his students. We have to wait for Minato to lower his guard to ask."

Akira could hear voices crackle to life on his headset. Minato had volunteered to be the pupil's model, suggesting the others remain on standby. After all, having multiple people come out of nowhere with questions could be seen as a threat. Then, there was also Ryuji's big mouth, of which the Wild Card shuddered to think what could have happened.

"Hey, what are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Let's all quiet down and listen."

Click.

Click.

Click.

"Thank you for coming today. I was surprised at how sudden you had accepted our invitation." Yusuke ushered his guest inside, into the modest shake, the floorboards creaking with each fine step.

"I had some free time today. So how will this modeling thing work? Do I have to do anything special?" Minato trailed behind the pupil, until he opened the door to a painter's studio. Bitter memories of the past flashed in his mind before he brushed them away. An art room filled with supplies, ranging from oils to charcoal, supplies he was familiar with himself.

"Please have a seat here. I will do the rest." Gesturing to a chair, Yusuke began sketching away on a propped up piece of paper, the two eyeing each other in a brief silence. As lines shaped into form and charcoal gave way to life on paper, the pupil couldn't help but relate to the sorrow in the man's eyes. A deep, seething grief that couldn't be captured anywhere else. It was forebodingly dark and as he progressed, the more ominous the work became. By the time he was midway, the artist could not help but gaze at the sketch, capturing an abyss of hollowness staring him back. He was consumed on finishing it, when a voice snapped him out of his trace, he turned.

"So…do I really look like that?"

Yusuke could hear his model say, seeing how creeped out he was at his own complexion. "My apologies. Was my hand a little too heavy?" Dark strokes covered the page, barely showing Minato's face. It was as if he were drawing the portrait of Death itself.

The bluenette huffed, "I mean I thought I'd be more elegant."

"Perhaps it's just the vibe I captured? I could try a different perspective if you'd like." Yusuke observed the sketch, frowning. Why was this what materialized? Had his intuition betrayed him? Did he not capture the essence of what makes this man alive?

"Speaking from different perspectives, I'd like to hear yours."

The atmosphere of the room started to shift, ushering in a previously unknown melancholy.

"My perspective? What do you mean?"

Wind fluttered in from the window, as the after noon sun bathed the room in a surreal, orange, light, distorting the shadows around them. Each one now resembles a beast of some kind. Minato's eyes began to take on a subtle pink energy, entrancing the pupil. "Tell me, is there something you feel sad about? To inject so much grief into my portrait, you must have some frustrations of your own mixed in."

Sitting down, Yusuke felt his mouth move on its own, "Yes. My life has not been the best."

"I noticed that you were holding back when your master mentioned raising his pupils being his wish. Was there something off with that statement?" Minato grabbed a piece of charcoal and a blank sheet of paper, drawing a line, then another.

"Master Madarame is indeed a person I deeply respect. Yet, I couldn't help but have my frustrations with him."

"Oh? How so? I hear bad rumors circulating around him. Plagiarism, abuse. Is it true all his pupils ran away?" Capturing the boy's sad expression, Minato sketched away.

Lowering his head, hot tears flowed down Yusuke's face, "Yes…they all left in the end. But it wasn't master's fault. We only helped him when he was out of ideas. Contributing one of or pieces isn't a crime now is it…?"

With a last few touches, the veteran finished his piece, bringing it close to the crying boy's face, "If this isn't the face of someone crying out for help, then what is?"

Dropping his charcoal, the paper reflected back all the pent up sadness the boy had held for years, a crying, ugly face mirrored back at his real visage. Dark strokes marred the surface of the page, denoting unknown scars. A black shadowy mass seemingly floating over him.

"I'm sure master has his reasons. He was the one who took me in when my mother passed. Even if I have to contribute to him for the rest of my life, I would gladly accept this fate."

Taking the sketch, Minato tore the paper into pieces, scattering them around the pupil, "That's not a way to live, kid. You'll wither in that darkness one day. In fact, I don't think you're alive at all."

He crushed a can in his hand, exploding the liquid everywhere, tossing it aside. "Is that really what you all found?" Minato crossed his arms, showing a frown. He shouldn't be angry for a kid he barely knows, but even he had his limits. He heard the rest of the party all give similar accounts of their survey of the palace. Poritats of abused pupils and even a golden statue representing their sacrifice to Madarame.

"Yea. Are you sure you couldn't come with us? That was pretty creepy." Ryuji begged.

"I doubt it. As much as I dislike that Madarame bastard, we can't have him having sudden mental shifts."

"Mina's right. Remember how Kamoshida suddenly targeted Akira despite staying away before?" Morgana meowed, "We didn't want to confirm this then, but Reaper's presence could indeed have caused those shifts."

"That palace earthquake wasn't fun…" Akira added, grumpy.

"You mean like how he got crazier as the days went on? Can someone's mere presence make that much of a difference?"

As Ann thought back, she did recall the growing dark bags under the instructor's eyes, eventually leading up to Akira's coaching session. The Wild Card also explained the disturbed looks Kamoshida had given him, displaying bouts of intense paranoia.

"Still, does this mean we have to tackle the entire palace ourselves this time?"

"You all have to learn how to use your powers anyways. I can't be here for every emergency."

"Meow-! I mean, yea! We can totally lead ourselves, and by that, I mean me of course!"

"Who said you were the leader, cat?"

"Hey!"

The veteran placed a hand on Akira's shoulder, "When I'm not here, I will elect him as leader!"

"B-but!"

Minat's grip on the Wild Card grew tighter, practically making him numb, "We can use him as a healer, attacker, and tank! How wonderful is that? Now bring victory to us, oh great leader!" He pushed the boy, causing him to stumble, almost face planting into the concrete.

"Ah shit!"

Somewhere, a man clenched onto the handle of his blade, dealing a strike from above, the slash being stopped midway by a metallic arm, throwing the surrounding room into chaos from the shockwave. Papers flew, people ducked avoiding the deadly clash.

"Yu! Calm down!"

A voice broke, stopping the man from cutting the monitor in two. The face of a mocking Minato, accented by a backdrop of a crowded art exhibit in the background. He waved at the screen, a sweet smile plastered on his face, as if gesturing for him to come closer him.

"I'm sorry, everyone…" Sinking to the ground, Yu Narukami held in his despair, his knuckles bone white from his building frustration. Just what the hell was that bastard up to now? Everytime that monster mocked him, he wanted to tear him apart, knowing he couldn't touch him and so their charade continued for a decade and now here he was again, silently telling him was only an observer once more.

"Are ya alright?"

He felt someone help him, a girl he had known only recently. Her blue ponytail gracefully draped across her metallic body, her face adorned by piercing red eyes. Taking her hand, she lifted him from the floor, the two taking a breather. Yet this calm serenity would only last for a few seconds as someone rushed into the room, panic in their voice.

"Sir! We have a big incident!"

Yu grabbed onto his katana, "It is about that wretch?"

"No. It's something just as big! Come this way. The entire world is watching it unfold as we speak!"

"Show me the way."

Slamming the door open to the main operating room, Yu's eyes widened. In the center, a screen spanning almost the entire floor aired an emergency national broadcast, one that could not be ignored.

"We interrupt our local segment with breaking news from the capital!" The reporter said, revealing an entire art exhibit vandalized with crimson cards, a flag of a familiar phantom thief logo plastered in the center. However, what was more horrific was how every single piece in the museum was replaced with replicas of the infamous painting, Sayuri. A mad cacophony of the same women's face repeating over and over, stunning all who viewed her painted form. The image of her presence burne into each and every viewer that laid their eye across the broadcast.

"The Madarame exhibit held in the heart of Tokyo has been canceled due to an unforeseen event. However, the perpetrators have left a message at the scene in the form of these red calling cards."

Sir Ichiryusai Madarame, we are many yet we are one. As the sinner of vanity, we have come to steal your distorted desires and correct your wicked ways. Rejoice, as all your sins will come to light. The Phantom Thief of Hearts.

"What the hell…"

"This is insane!"

The loud clicking of keyboards in the room halted, replaced by a frantic chatter that erupted from multiple areas in the room, no akin to a sports stadium full of people, all stopping in their tracks to pay attention to the big screen.

"Do you think there could be some connection, sir?"

Yu stood dumbstruck, shaking his head, "No…we can't be for certain."

Author's Notes: Finally chapter 6 is out. This one took longer than expected but I'm glad we've arrived at the Madarame arc. Yes, I am rushing through the first bits of it cause frankly nothing much of note happens at the start of P5. The real beef will come later haha!