Author's Note: I can't believe it's been over two-and-a-half-years since Yu Narukami's Sidestory.
This one is going to be less grand in terms of scope relative to Yu's, but more narrow in terms of character focus. (Hence why this can honestly work as a standalone Persona 5 story.)
xxxx
Why are we here?
To see the immediate precursor...to our current circumstances...
xxxx
Before the present moment: tales were abundant, of a certain conflict that occurred in the City of Tokyo, in the year 2016; tales of a charismatic and mysterious group, who changed the hearts of criminals, convincing them to confess their crimes with their own mouths.
No one type was immune: from a lustful P.E. teacher, to a vainglorious artist, to a gluttonous mafia boss, to an avaricious corporate executive, to a prideful Prime Minister Elect, to the slothful and wrathful masses themselves...these vigilantes had been unstoppable.
They had been known as the Phantom Thieves.
Beyond that brief period of time—not even twelve months!—they had never acted again. Thus, did they fade into modern myth and urban legend...
Yet their members continued to live life, unknowing of what awaited them on the other side...
xxxx
It had been many years since Akira Kurusu had donned the mask of Joker.
There were certain times where he half-convinced himself it had all been a strange dream...and he might have succeeded, were it not for the effects of that time he stilled lived with: his friends and his wife, chief among them.
"You got your head in the clouds, Aki?" joked Ryuji Sakamoto, enjoying a glass of flavored water. Age had treated the former athlete rather well, all things considered: bearing a face tanned from a life of labor, yet etched with laugh lines from plenty of joy and laughter.
Akira Kurusu smirked, sipping from his thermos of coffee; he was no spring chicken himself, all things considered. "Well, the clouds are so very fine this day..."
"Even when we've got something more beautiful on earth to look at?"
"Staring for too long will make you go blind, you know," he joked; sitting upon the grass in Yoyogi Park, the two had prime view of a rather familiar scene: Yusuke Kitagawa, painting. His theme this time was 'Mother and Child', focusing on three families' proverbial matriarchs and the generations which claimed them as their origin.
Said matriarchs being Haru Kurusu, Makoto Sakamoto, and Futaba Kitagawa; the latter of the trio, sitting with crossed arms in a huffy manner, remarked, "Do you know how hard it is to sit still with a grandbaby pulling on your hair?" Said grandbaby was sprawled on the ground beside her knee, grabbing at the longest lock with pudgy little hands.
"As hard as the hearts of the most wretched filth," Yusuke sagely remarked, his body still as a statue; only his arms moved with life, animated like a man possessed. "Yet such hearts are capable of being changed; and so are you capable of withstanding such trials."
"That metaphor sucks, Inari," grumbled Futaba, ignoring how her two adult sons snorted at the exchange between their parents. "And I know you know better ones!"
"Now now," cautioned Makoto, sitting prim and proper in her police chief's uniform. "I'd rather not have to give you a citation for being a public nuisance." Her two daughters — one holding a child of her own — and eldest son — helping out with two preteens — hovered at the periphery, long used to the eccentricities of their 'Uncle Yusuke'. "Especially on such a nice spring day."
Futaba, undeterred, ignored the grandson maneuvering to grab at her longest tress of black hair — the only one bearing a streak of orange dye, these days — and said, "Madame Floof! I demand you bribe the cop with your best brew!"
'Madame Floof' — none other than Haru, sitting happily between her adult son and daughter, holding one grandbaby in her arms — smiled seraphically. "But bribing is wrong, Futaba-chan." A strange shadow came over her face, even as her smile remained unaltered. "You wouldn't want to set a poor example for the children, would you~?"
"...I withdraw my objection," Futaba grumbled, defeated.
"You're mixing metaphors again, my Sweetest Citrus," remarked Yusuke.
Futaba cringed at the nickname. "Ugh...why did I fall in love with such a lame-o..."
"Because you two were a 'Match Made in Cringe', mother," chorused her two sons.
There were so many old jokes and ancient gags between them all that they flowed like water, unimpeded by the passage of time. The sheer nostalgia was intoxicating. "A shame that Ann couldn't make it," murmured Ryuji.
Akira, fiddling with his glasses, shifted through holographic images broadcast onto his digital lenses; the image was of his and Haru's youngest daughter—winning some foreign dance competition—with Ann Takamaki at her shoulder. The picture's caption—'Dancing Idol Megumi Kurusu Dominates, Dazzling with Fashion from the Tower of Takamaki' line!'—elicited a smile. "Kind of hard when she's so busy, even now."
"We keep telling her to slow down," grumbled Ryuji. "I want to lock her up in a room with Haru so she can finally have a conversation about 'how to properly divest yourself of company resources' and 'how to prepare your subordinates for your eventual retirement' and all that junk,"
Akira chuckled, knowing that Ann was unwilling to slow down as they had, so dedicated she was to living life to the fullest...even if, to the surprise of some in the modelling profession, it came with mentoring numerous young ladies in the arts of fashion, dance, and entertainment. "Well, I can't exactly blame her with getting bored of us settling down." Settling down; that was such a defeatist way of looking at things. As far as Akira was concerned, he had won at life: he had triumphed over an unjust game, and was going to leave the world better than he had left it.
(Such a strange sensation, to be sure; his will of rebellion had cooled, with the passage of time...manifesting only on behalf of his family and children, with wisdom and experience tamping down on youthful impulse.)
(Yet, if the circumstances called for it...would you still rebel...?)
xxxx
It was night by the time Akira and Haru returned to LeBlanc; the times in which the lives of the Phantom Thieves and their children could intersect were few and far between these days, as the call of life kept them all away.
Yet, insofar as these two were concerned, they had a daily ritual which they kept to, without fail: they would retire at the cafe after closing hours, and treat each other to a cup of coffee. It was their way of signalling that the day was over.
"...it feels like everything is slowing down," murmured Haru, quietly stirring a spoonful of honey into her brew.
Akira, savoring the aroma of his cup — even after so many years, Haru's particular grind had an intoxicating diversity — remarked, "Well, we're slowing down, Madame Floof."
The matronly woman sighed, lightly tapping his shoulder. "You know that's Futaba-chan's nickname for me. I much prefer your own."
"...I know." Most would have found him unbearably sappy. How fortunate that his younger self had had an unabashed love for show and flair that could not help but come with its own level of cheese and dorkiness. If anything, it kept him humble. "But I think it's also called getting old."
Haru frowned, looking genuinely concerned. "I know that our children have their own lives...but it seems like life just keeps narrowing down around us. I hardly ever hear of life outside of Japan, anymore..."
"To be fair, our life has had enough excitement to spare," he remarked, thinking back all that had happened after 2016: the awkward reconciliation with his birth parents, the legal and financial struggles Haru had endured with Okumura Foods, the sheer amount of hassle that had occurred when Haru had elected to take on his name instead of retaining 'Okumura' upon their marriage, the various ups and downs of raising kids...etcetera, etcetera.
xxxx
Little did they know that the world itself was winding down, in preparation for a reset.
xxxx
A little bell tinkled; not from the main cafe door, but from a tiny pet door that they had installed years ago. The presence of a complicated lockpick was enough to keep out wild animals...save for one animal that was wild in an entirely different sense. "Mona-chan?" said Haru with surprise.
The bicolor tuxedo cat quietly sauntered towards their booth, hopping up onto the chair opposite them. "Hi guys."
"I thought you'd be gone for a little while longer, Mona the Seventh," joked Akira, referring to the charade they had been keeping to over the years. After all, when your cat survived much longer than any actual shorthair should, it was better to pretend (if only for the sake of the normies, as Futaba would say) that Mona was a series of different cats, instead of the same cat. "Or is it Mona the Eighth, now?"
"Ha ha," griped the supernatural cat, quietly sprawling onto the table so Haru could scratch his ears. "I just...felt like I needed to be here, that's all..."
"...huh." He would have made a joke about how dead cats couldn't get homesick, were it not for Haru's palpable worry. "Well, I guess we'll find out tomorrow if it's anything to be concerned about. For now, these old bones need to get some sleep."
Akira and Haru quietly shut everything down, heading upstairs to the cafe attic, which had been converted to a proper living space over the years (complete with an actual bed not balanced on milk crates!). Having handed down their old home to their son after he had gotten married, this little place was just perfect for an old couple enjoying their golden twilight.
"...so many things could have been different," murmured Haru. "But...for all the downs...I'm glad I have this..."
That was enough to make Akira feel like a young man. "Good night...Noir."
Haru, smiling to herself, cuddled up against her husband. "Good night...my Trickster."
(Haru was the only one with 'Trickster' privileges...and it served as a reminder of Lavenza, and that odd little dimension called the Velvet Room, which he hadn't seen in years.)
(Even now, the unreality of that year seems...puzzling, doesn't it...?)
Morgana quietly curled up on Akira's chest, his stunning blue eyes filled with surprising uncertainty. "Hey, come on Mona...we're good. It'll all be good."
"...I hope so," the cat whispered.
(Akira Kurusu would pass away while sleeping.)
xxxx
That night, the last vestiges of a lingering timeline were swept up without warning.
A mind that should have been swept up was instead caught by a singular spark, pushing against the tide.
With inhuman force, it delved into a turbulent sea, and towards a familiar door...!
xxxx
When Akira Kurusu opened his eyes, it was with the body of a teenager.
The fact he was in a Shujin outfit and sitting in a room colored various shades of blue was another nostalgic reminder.
However, the utter lack of its characteristic song was...unnerving.
"It has been a long time, dear guest," a genial voice said.
Ren looked to his left, staring at the face of a long-nosed man. "Igor?" More importantly, standing by his side was a girl with silver hair that he had not seen in just as long of a time. "Lavenza...?"
"...Trickster," said Lavenza, her yellow eyes quivering with both gladness and uncertainty. "We are glad that we managed to divert you in time. It is crucial that we speak."
Akira, not quite sure if he was having a particularly vivid dream, asked, "About...?"
"About a game which we all have the grave misfortune of being forced to play..." said a deep voice, amused yet irritated deep down.
Akira's head jolted to the right, his body immediately going tense. Alarmed, he took in the sight of Igor...no, not Igor. Though the form was similar, an inhuman power — seething with malice — overshadowed him from behind; beyond that murky mass, echoes of bizarre creatures could be seen. "What...?"
The Fake Igor—the Holy Grail; Yaldabaoth—grinned, leaning his head against his fist. "Trickster. It has been far too long."
Akira looked back at Igor and Lavenza. Then at the Fake Igor. Igor. Fake Igor. Finally, with utter disbelief, he exclaimed, "Is this for real?!"
xxxx
ANOTHER SIDE, ANOTHER STORY
YOU'LL (NEVER) SEE IT COMING
The Tale of Akira Kurusu
xxxx
"Stay back!" A familiar voice brought Akira out of his stupor; at his feet, a familiar monster cat—such a recognizable silhouette, that only the long gap of time made him double-take!—stood, holding a saber at the side. The only oddity was a strange halo hovering over his head: not a cartoonish caricature of one, but a genuine ring of divine power that looped in over and over amongst itself: a torus of heavenly geometry, infinitely overlapping; an enclosed river of holy light; such were more accurate descriptors of that which hovered over Morgana's head. "This is not the place nor the time for us to fight." And his voice! The familiar, boyish chirp was accompanied by the echo of something...more.
"...no, seriously, is this for real?" Akira asked again, impulsively standing in a defensive stance. Such a motion brought forth a familiar outfit that still fit like a glove: the wardrobe of the Phantom Thieves' leader, Joker. The feel of black leather, of crimson gloves, of layered finery; it was like an old suit he had never grown out of...no, rather, that it had grown with him, for the domino mask was absent. "Because this is feeling uncomfortably real."
"...our window for acting is limited," cautioned Lavenza, looking angrily at the monstrosity wearing the face of her master. "The time for conflict between us will come...regardless of how forced it may be."
"...very well," said Yaldabaoth; his very form seemed to seethe with a living dust, even as other aspects boiled within the darkness behind him. "Say your piece then, feckless servants."
Joker looked towards Morgana—no, in this form, it was easier to think of him as Mona—then back at Igor and Lavenza. "Guys...it's been so long. What's happening? Why am I a teenager? Why is Yaldabaoth back? And what's with the halo over Mona's head?!"
"There will be a time for all the questions you doubtless have," said Igor with an air of sagacity. "For now...let it suffice for us to say that time has been rewound."
"...rewound?" he echoed.
"...you were forced to play an unjust game once before," murmured Lavenza, looking off to the side. "One in which you triumphed...however, truth be told...you were not the only one who was subject to an ordeal not of their making." With a quiet inhale, she added, "The design of a malevolent will has enveloped us all...and for whatever reason, that design has brought the world back to the beginning of your trial..."
"...April of 2016..." Was this a dream? It had to be. "Then...my family...my friends...?"
"...it still happened for you. You'll still remember," said Mona. "But for them...and the rest of the world...it was as if it never was-"
"Take me back," growled Joker, suddenly gripping Yaldabaoth by the lapels of his suit.
Mona boggled. "Hey!"
"Take me back!" Joker demanded, glaring viciously at his old foe, because the thought that everything was just gone-!
Yaldabaoth simply sneered. "Ah...what a possessive fool. Perhaps you now realize a mere scintilla of what it is that we feel? To have stolen from you, that which belongs to you by right? How interesting..."
"Joker." He forcefully looked away from Fake Igor, looking down at Mona. "...it's not their fault, nor is it ours. Blaming Yaldabaoth won't bring them back."
It was like pulling teeth, removing his hand from Yaldabaoth. With jaws grinding, he stepped away, asking, "Who is this 'malevolent will', then? Who reset the world?" I need to know who to fight...and whose heart I need to change-
"If you're thinking of changing their heart...you delude yourself, Trickster," interrupted Yaldabaoth with an ominous tone. "The being who has shackled our reality...is above such rudimentary tactics..."
"Worked well enough on you, didn't it?" retorted Joker. To his disdain, Yaldabaoth only laughed.
"Trickster." Lavenza's calm voice broke through his anger, bringing him back to the present. "It is an unjust turn of fate: no one here will deny that. But...will you let your bitterness consume you?"
It would have been so very easy to say yes. Yet, as memories of all that he stood to lose came to mind, and the thoughts of that fateful year lingered...a certain young man came to mind, who he'd not had occasion to think about in some time: a young man who had had a pitiable end, who could've aspired to so much more. No...I won't be like Goro Akechi. "...it's not about my bitterness," he growled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "It's about how unfair it is."
"And yet the Phantom Thieves did what they could to fight such unfairness." Mona, still speaking with that unusual and strangely melodious tone underneath his normal voice. "Isn't that right?"
Joker couldn't help but acknowledge that with a sort of grim certainty. "...so, Mona: what's with the halo?" he asked, trying to change the subject, because he was clearly lacking context.
As Yaldabaoth snorted in the background, Mona glanced up at the holy accessory. "...how about this: if we manage to make it to the end of whatever this new ordeal is...then I'll tell you. Do we have a deal?"
A 'deal'. What nostalgic terminology! "...if you put it that way." Joker looked between Yaldabaoth and the Velvet Room's denizens, still confused by what was happening. "If the world has been rewound...then why am I here?"
"Because you have been gifted with the power of the Wild Card," explained Lavenza. "And in the face of Our Enemy who seeks to stack the deck in their favor...it is only fitting, to give you a better hand."
Igor leaned forward, resting his chin on folded hands. "Let us explain to the degree we are allowed: the world has been reverted to a state that you will find very familiar. However, there is no telling what conditions or parameters have been altered...and so acting as if nothing has changed would be folly. Whether you take the path you once walked...or whether you forge a new one...is your decision to make."
"...I had forgotten how unhelpfully vague you guys could be," said Joker.
"To give too much knowledge would be to tip our hands. After all, if there's one thing our mutual enemy despises...it's cheaters," explained Yaldabaoth, who sounded outright offended by the prospect.
"Even though they don't mind cheating themselves, huh? I can get how that would be annoying." And I just empathized with the God of Control...I don't know how to feel about that. "So...I'm not sure if I'm just experiencing a bizarre fever dream...but in the off chance this is real...why not give me more details?" He looked back at the Velvet Room's master. "I would like to hear you say it directly."
Igor giggled, looking strangely pleased. "Because it is not our place to burden our guests unduly; we are here to assist them as they go through their journey. Wherever that journey ends...is not for us to decide. Only you."
"...so no pressure, then. Situation normal." How strange; he felt so light and carefree. Was it an effect of donning his garb as Joker? Or was it because he was no longer in the body of an elderly adult? "...but if you both have a mutual enemy, then why aren't you being allies...?"
At this, Yaldabaoth chortled. "You misunderstand; we have different goals; different endgames. When you emerge into this new time, that fool will be imprisoned within Mementos, and the girl will once more be split in two: that we are mutually opposed to another enemy does not negate our own opposition to each other..."
Joker frowned, looking back with alarm at Igor and Lavenza; the latter, in particular, looked genuinely nervous at the prospect of returning to that dual existence. "Why would you...?"
"...because we have no choice. But, more importantly...it is because we have faith in you, Trickster." Lavenza mustered up the courage to face him head-on. "All I ask...is that you don't take anything that Caroline or Justine say or do too personally..."
What else could Joker do, other than nod?
"Our time is up." Mona looked up at Joker, commanding his gaze with a strange intensity. "Joker...I may not have my current knowledge of you, when we next meet. Don't take it personally."
"...I won't." This is going to take some getting used to. He would need to try and understand the 'rules' of the world, if only to know where he could toe the line...and when he would need to cross it. "But I'll see you soon."
Igor chuckled, smiling genuinely. "I cannot wait to see what paths you choose..."
Lavenza gave a brief curtsy. "Until we meet again..."
Joker nodded, turning back towards Yaldabaoth. "Well? Even if there's another player in this 'game' that I have to face...that doesn't mean I'm going to make it easy for you, either."
At this, the God of Control could only snort. "I would expect nothing less...so with that in mind, let us set the stage." With a mocking laugh, as everything — the room; Mona; Lavenza; Igor— began to fade into shadow, the voice of Fake Igor — deep and imposing, yet lacking the monstrous reverb of the Holy Grail, or the self-assured authority of Yaldabaoth — echoed all around: "This story is a work of fiction. Similarities between characters or events to persons, living or dead, in your world...are purely coincidental." In other words, anything that might go the same way, or anyone that might act in a familiar manner...would not necessitate true equivalence to the past that Joker could recall. "Only those who have agreed to the above have the privilege of partaking in this game."
It was a hard saying; it was also unnerving, to think that this creature would still think of their circumstances as but a game. Yet, Joker recognized it as just another challenge to overcome. "...I agree," he said with bared teeth.
The False Igor chuckled quietly. "...the contract has been sealed." Holding his arms wide, he solemnly proclaimed, "The world is not as it should be: it's filled with distortion, and 'ruin' can no longer be avoided. Those who oppose fate, and desire change...from time to time, they were referred to as Tricksters. You are the Trickster...now is the time to rise against the abyss of distortion." At last, with a sneering grin, he added, "Let us see if a wretch like you has what it takes...to defy the undefiable."
All aspects of the Velvet Room fell away, incinerated by a torrent of blue fire.
As the flames began to fade, Joker felt his awareness shift...and then, with a strangely supernatural clarity, he found himself standing amidst Shibuya Crossing: wreathed in fire, standing quietly over a crowd of silent strangers, frozen in time.
Ah...this is familiar...
His Other chuckled knowingly.
"A reminder of the desire which burned within you..."
His smirk had teeth to it.
"...the desire for retribution; for justice; for the wicked to face your wrath as a reward for their wrongdoing..."
His eyes zeroed in on...himself: staring blankly, eyes hidden by fake glasses, yet doubtless mesmerized by what he was seeing. Here, in the city of Tokyo, where Mementos had taken root...even then, my Other Self was trying to warn me about what lied ahead...but now...now it's the means by which I become a player in this new game. With eyes gleaming a Shadow's yellow, he could not help but grin with anticipation. Time to take the plunge. Don't let me down...my past self!
His consciousness faded away into a white light...
xx
...and just like that, Akira Kurusu blinked dumbly, looking around with surprise. I'm...back. His head felt a strange pressure: one that slowly faded, as the memories of a life once lived settled into his very being, ushered in by an unnatural epiphany. That's...trippy. With a vacant expression, he looked down at his smartphone—holy crap, this model is ANCIENT—and looked at the date. Saturday, April 9th, 2016...time really did rewind. He absently looked at a familiar icon: black and red, forming the image of an eye. The Metaverse Navigator...haven't seen it in years. His legs moved on autopilot, even as his mind tried to fathom his current circumstances. The impulse to delete the app was checked by experience; he knew that it wouldn't go away.
But anyone would naturally try to delete an unknown app, wouldn't they? Would the 'mutual enemy' of Yaldabaoth and the Velvet Room be able to witness his actions? His thoughts? Dang it, I wish I knew more. He settled on deleting the app—knowing it would be back eventually—and making his connection to the Yongen-Jaya Station.
Everything was so...nostalgic; old; familiar; foreign. So many sensations warred within his mind, as he took in fashions which had been out of date for decades in his past life, and felt a different atmosphere amongst everyone's day-to-day conversations. For all the ups and downs that he had experienced in his old life, life in Tokyo had genuinely improved for the better over the years; as such, he couldn't help but feel a little morose at the sight of subway stations which had not undergone their future renovations. They still have the old paint job on the tiles, Akira mused as he stepped off of the train, moving about with purpose.
The nostalgia hit even harder when he actually set foot into Yongen-Jaya itself; he absentmindedly realized it just by witnessing a familiar woman in goth fashion walk by—Dr. Tae Takemi? She handed down the medical clinic to her assistant decades ago!—even as his eyes took in the shabby look of the residential district. It looks so...untouched. The renovations of the future had not left Yongen-Jaya unscathed; for all that certain establishments had resisted the urge to 'get with the times', not everyone had been so stubborn. The Secondhand Shop Yumenoshima...they sold their store to a different recycle shop chain so long ago, he thought, staring at the faded green store logo and its tacky interior with a strange ache in his chest. And the old theater...! Its harsh and brutal appearance on the outside brought back so many memories; after one of the old owners had passed away, the surviving spouse had finally sold it and retired; although Yasuo Jochi hadn't been the one to obtain it, the theater had ultimately been torn down and replaced by something else in the long run. Super Muramasa still has their old look, he mused, looking at the supermarket from outside. And the cigarette vendor is still here? That settles it: this really is the past...
He leaned against a nearby brick wall, trying to regain his composure. The more he thought about it, the less of a dream it seemed. My old life...really is gone, isn't it...?
It was in that state of mind that he found himself standing outside of a restaurant with faded words upon its red and white canopy; coffee&curry / Leblanc. The color scheme and format would have been understated to most, yet it threatened to knock him off of his feet. That's right...we had a freak hailstorm one year that forced us to replace the awning. How long has it been since I've seen it...?
(This only meant that when he stepped through that door...he would...)
(You'll see the man that you always considered a second father...alive. In the flesh.)
His feet didn't want to move, yet he knew he had to. Mustering up his guts, he calmly (only on the outside, because who was he fooling?!) entered.
The decor was a blast from the past; the lack of the true Sayuri sitting on the wall was glaring; yet his eyes were drawn to the stooped figure sitting on a stool, his eyes focused intently on a crossword puzzle. The pink shirt, the faded pants, the old apron, the slick hair, the impossibly stylish goatee: all outward characteristics of Sojiro Sakura.
"And down is...the name of a shellfish used in pearl farming..." the man muttered to himself, still audible over the tinny television and the only two customers in the cafe.
(You've been dead for years, you old-timer.)
(He wasn't going to cry...)
The man looked up, blinking with surprise at his presence. "...oh, right." He sounded so...exasperated. There was no familiarity, only tired realization that a headache had dropped in. "They did say that was today."
(...but this made it easier.)
(He doesn't know you.)
He didn't know how good he was at hiding his emotions; the fake glasses helped, if only for the self-imposed trick they played on his subconscious. After all, if they were but a mask, it was easy to think of them as hiding his true self.
Once the customers left, Sojiro look at him with skepticism. "So, you're the guy? Akira Kurusu?"
"...yes," he managed to say without choking. "Please take care of me," he replied, slightly bowing out of politeness.
The old man arched an eyebrow, nonetheless smiling in that sly little way that was Sojiro's own mask, hiding his true thoughts and feelings behind the face of the suave and experienced barista. "I'm Sojiro Sakura. You'll be in my custody for the next year. I was wondering what kind of unruly kid would show up...but you're the one, huh?"
This, at least, was unchanged; though the exact words had slipped Akira's mind after many years, the tone of the conversation seemed to be following the same beats...even down to being introduced to the spacious attic, which was in dire need of cleaning. "This is your room," said the old man.
I had forgotten how shabby it was before Haru and I remodeled it.
"You look like you wanna say something," dryly said Sojiro, pulling him out of his thoughts.
Ah, my lip is curling with disgust. Come on, Akira! You need to behave! "It's...cluttered."
Sojiro was unimpressed...and why wouldn't he be? As far as the old man was concerned, he was taking in a juvenile with a criminal record, which he wasn't bringing anywhere near Futaba. (And oh gods, Futaba was still in the middle of her Traumatized Hikikomori Arc™! Future Futaba's words, not his.) As Sojiro described the details of his 'situation' — oh right, I got sued by Shido, that's still a thing — Akira was trying to keep his mind from spiraling in multiple directions. "-you were expelled from your high school," Sojiro continued to explain, uncaring for Akira's internal monologuing. "The courts ordered you to transfer and move out here, which your parents also approved." With a smug grin, Sojiro added, "In other words, they got rid of you for being a pain in the ass."
Akira blinked, recalling just how he had ended up reconciling with his birth parents, and the various misunderstandings that had prompted said reconciliation; even so, only the passage of time had healed the lingering bitterness. "...I don't think it's that simple," he muttered, trying to speak on his family's behalf.
Sojiro harrumphed, clearly not believing him. "Uh huh. Let me be frank: I don't care what issues you have with your parents; I'm in the restaurant business, and I don't have time for anything unnecessary. All I ask is that you behave yourself for the year; do that, and your probation will be lifted. But if you cause any problems, you'll be sent straight to juvie."
"...I understand." Looking down at his uniform, he asked, "When will we be going to Shujin Academy?"
"At least you've read the terms of your probation," said Sojiro, guessing as to why Akira knew that and coming up with the wrong conclusion. "We'll introduce ourselves properly to the staff tomorrow..." Sojiro couldn't help but sigh aloud. "What a waste of my Sunday..."
...man, I forgot how much of an ass you were back at the beginning. Even so, Akira said nothing; this helped provide some separation between the Sojiro he knew and the Sojiro before him. Oh well...nothing I can do to help that. As Sojiro walked back downstairs, Akira quickly looked around for a duster and some cleaning supplies. Right...it took a lot of effort to make this place feel like a home, he mused, quietly changing into more casual clothing; as he dusted and mopped and reorganized, the memories of his probation came trickling back, bit by bit.
Absentmindedly, he walked downstairs, only to face Sojiro's inquisitive glare. "You need something?"
Akira blinked dumbly, saying the first thing that came to mind. "I'm done cleaning."
"I'm sure," grumbled Sojiro, clearly not believing him.
The old man's disbelief was shattered moments later. "The heck? I didn't think all that noise was you actually cleaning. And you even de-cluttered...this place actually looks halfway decent." The curmudgeonly grump couldn't help but sound impressed. "And in only a matter of hours, too..."
Akira shrugged. "I've been told I'm kind of a proficient guy."
xxxx
Akira heard the sound of chains and dripping water, and felt the hard surface of a jail cell's mattress, before opening his eyes. Huh...I hope I managed to get some sleep in...
He had been so confused and bewildered, the first time this had happened.
Now, he only felt vague annoyance at the presence of the ball and chain shackled to his ankle, and the manacles on his wrists.
At the sight of Justine and Caroline—twin sisters, bearing asymmetric differences that peeked out from their symmetrical forms; smiling with amusement, looking at him without recognition—he stared indignantly at the figure beneath the spotline at the center of the panopticon. (Only with the benefit of hindsight, did he now realize the differences between how Igor and his Fake sat at their desk: the former, calm yet intrigued; the latter, bored yet amused, with a tinge of subtle impatience.)
"Trickster...welcome to my Velvet Room," the Fake Igor spoke.
'My' Velvet Room, as compared to 'the' Velvet Room; Igor, despite being this place's master, had never spoken with a tone of possessiveness, or with anything that indicated ownership that he could recall. It was very distinctive, in retrospect.
Caroline and Justine did their whole shtick about him dreaming, and about respecting their master; when the false deity wearing Igor's face spoke, Akira soon reached his breaking point. "-I am Igor, the master of this place. Remember it well."
"Oh, I remember all right." With a burst of blue fire, Akira became Joker; his chains evaporated, and the bars on his cell dissolved.
Justine boggled, while Caroline yelped with shock. "W-W-What is the meaning of this, Inmate?!"
Joker, mask resting upon his forehead, quietly pulled a folding chair from nowhere; he sat down between the two twins, staring intently at Fake Igor. "You were going to say that this room reflects the state of my heart, right? Well...I may be stuck in the middle of an imposing dilemma..." He gestured at the walls of the prison around him. "...but I am not a 'prisoner of fate'...not if I have anything to say about it." Folding a leg over his knee, he rested his elbow on top, allowing him to place his face on his fist in a deliberate mockery of Fake Igor's preferred pose. "So...let's be a bit more honest about where we stand, shall we?"
As the Velvet Room's distinctive song filtered through, Fake Igor chuckled. "What an impertinent Fool...a fitting face, for humanity's supposed Champion. But I suppose it is harmless enough, in this place..."
"The 'ruin' which awaits me...I need at least some more hints about how I can oppose it." Pointing his finger, he added, "And don't say any nonsense about 'rehabilitation this' or 'rehabilitation that'; your particular brand of rehabilitation is something I want no part of."
"Such impudence..." murmured Justine.
"Such disrespect!" yelled Caroline, raising her stun baton.
Joker, taking a gamble, reached for his mask. "Thor." With a burst of fire, a titanic man in golden armor manifested, blocking the blow with the back of his fist. Sparks flew, yet Thor was undeterred.
Caroline and Justine leapt back, clearly disturbed by this event. "A Persona?!" exclaimed the former.
The latter twin quickly summoned a familiar grimoire, looking through its pages with alarm. "His Compendium...how is it so full...?"
Good to know, Joker thought, glad his gamble had paid off. "So? Are you going to be helpful, or not?"
The pretender chuckled, truly amused by this turn of events. "Ah...you think that because you have power, that you'll be able to brute force your way through all obstacles? Such is the thinking of a child." Leaning forward, Fake Igor said, "Do you honestly think that such tactics have not been tried, and found wanting?"
Joker said nothing, letting Yaldabaoth speak.
"Let us refer to our mutual enemy as simply...our Ruin. That will do." Tapping his desk methodically, Fake Igor said, "Our Ruin can act overtly, with overwhelming might...or with subtle deception, more silent than a whisper. But know that they will be watching for contradictions...or for blatant incongruencies." Pointing at Joker, he added, "And you are blatant enough as it is: a Wild Card at the height of his power, with a mind seasoned by the passage of time; you are not the naive Fool, just starting their journey...rather, you are one who has claimed the World for himself, brought back to the beginning. That alone is enough to catch the eyes of those who are aware of such things."
"...so, I'm going to have to do a lot of pretending, then." The question is, how much would he have to pretend? To what extent was he allowed to go without being too suspicious? Without actually being out in the world, there was no way of knowing. "I'm sure I can manage."
Fake Igor chuckled. "That will surely be a sight to see."
"...that brings me to one more question." Cleaning the attic of Leblanc had given him plenty of time to meditate on events which had occurred long ago for him: the major things stuck out the most, but all of the minor events and subtle day-to-day intricacies had been much harder to conjure up. (It had been rather painful to admit that some memories of this fateful year had been lost to the ravages of time.) "...there's one other player in this game: the one who's supposed to be your Champion." (A player who had lost the game; someone he and his friends had been unable to save from himself.) "...Goro Akechi: is he in on this whole thing? Is he aware of this being 'Round 2', as it were?"
Fake Igor wagged his finger condescendingly. "Ah, ah, ah; that would be spoiling, dear Trickster. His fate is separate from yours: you would be wise to keep that in mind. Otherwise...you might miss what's right in front of you." (Now what did that mean?) "But our time draws to a close...we will surely meet again."
And not a moment too soon, Joker thought with a stoic expression. He briefly looked back over at his two 'wardens', who were looking at him with expressions akin to horror. Ah...I may have overdone it. "Sorry about that. I'll make it up to both of you next time."
Caroline just barely managed to sputter out her indignant outrage before his body awoke...
(You just have to pretend that you're a total newbie at all of this, at least on the outside. How hard can that be?)
xxxx
/Sunday: April 10, 2016/
Standing in front of Principal Kobayakawa (dude, I forgot how huge he is) and Sadayo Kawakami (it feels weird, not seeing her sitting behind the Principal's desk), Akira quickly discovered just how hard it was to pretend that he was just a hapless newbie.
"-to reiterate, just so we're clear, you will immediately be expelled if you cause any problems. In my opinion, you're nothing but a liability, but we had our circumstances to consider," pontificated Kobayakawa with a barely concealed sneer. "Whatever you might've gotten away with in your hometown...those days are over. If you are thrown out from our school, there will be no place for you to go. Keep that in mind."
I don't have to take your unearned vitriol, you Shido sycophant, Akira thought, but didn't say. It was so hard to resist tapping his foot with agitation at this whole scenario.
It only got worse when Kawakami introduced herself; her listless tone, her nigh-apathetic and tired demeanor, her obvious irritation at having to take a delinquent in her class; it was such a jarring dichotomy relative to the passionate educator he had come to know in later years...especially when his children had somehow gotten into trouble at school-
"Stop daydreaming," hissed Sojiro under his breath, elbowing Akira in the side.
He jolted out of his reverie, looking at Kawakami's unimpressed face and Kobayakawa's frustrated expression. "Ah, my apologies, sensei." I...might be in trouble.
(This is going to be harder than you thought.)
xxxx
The old probation diary was almost an afterthought, Akira couldn't help but muse later that night, after Sojiro had given it to him.
A means to list my daily activities, huh? Akira quietly flipped through its pages, recalling how he had written in it with a feverish intensity at times. And here we are, once more...
He quickly jotted down a few lines:
xx
Day: April 10th, 2016
I went to Shujin. The principal is a dick. My homeroom teacher seems bored but sad. Sojiro complained about the traffic on the way back.
I may be in over my head.
Tomorrow is another day.
xx
Tomorrow, he thought, quietly looking out his window with a pensive expression. Tomorrow is when so much happened...
xxxx
/Monday: April 11, 2016/
Akira's first official day at Shujin Academy was one of those that he could never forget...for a multitude of reasons.
He neglected his umbrella, thinking it wouldn't rain; the fact it did made him wonder to what degree weather was deterministic or stochastic. (Ah, he was suddenly recalling old conversations with Futaba and Makoto about the dynamics underlying weather systems...and all the while, Yusuke would be opining about the whims of Nature, uncaring for the brutal weathermen's attempts at forecasting! The frivolity of those memories was so pure that it made him ache.)
He waited underneath an awning, as was natural for someone getting out of the rain; as such, when a female student in red leggings sought refuge under the same canopy, who would think twice about it?
(Reason #1: it was the day he had first met the lovely and kind-hearted Ann Takamaki.)
Akira couldn't recall if he had stared the first time around—come to think of it, had she been the first natural blonde he had ever encountered?—but she certainly caught him staring. "Can I help you?" she wondered.
"Ah. Sorry. You...remind me of someone," he said, with genuine nervousness. Way to flub the line, idiot. She didn't ask you a question the first time, did she? What's different? Is it in the way you're looking? If so, how is it different? (Blast it, he had gone through the teenage years before; he had raised teenagers! Why was it suddenly difficult for entirely different reasons than he remembered?)
Ann smiled, taking his words at face value...and that's when a car pulled up, driven by a P.E. teacher with an impressive chin. "Good morning!" he called out from the driver's seat. "Need a lift to school? You're gonna be late!"
(Reason #2: it was the day he had first met the lecherous and foul-hearted Suguru Kamoshida.)
The parental impulse to tell Ann 'stay out of the car, he's a BAD MAN' was subdued by reason; yet, Akira apparently could not completely hide his disdain, because Kamoshida took one look at him and decided his facial expression constituted a flat 'no'. "Well, suit yourself. Take care, young man!"
Blast it all, I need to work on my poker face, Akira thought with a scowl.
Then a young man with blond hair — obviously dyed — slowed to a stop in front of the awning, cursing Kamoshida's name.
(Reason #3: it was the day he had first met the boisterous and bro-hearted Ryuji Sakamoto.)
Ryuji's impulsive distrust—"What do you want? You plannin' on rattin' me out to Kamoshida?"—was swiftly countered by the 'playing dumb' maneuver; Ryuji's tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve meant that his temper burned fiercely yet quick. With Akira's identity as a transfer student solidified, he dutifully followed Ryuji...even as a strange tension filtered through his mind. (The mental heaviness of someone's Palace, pressing down upon the fabric of reality; the influence of the Metaverse itself...oh, how nostalgic it now felt...!)
Then, one shortcut later, they stood before an unreal castle, beneath a violet sky.
(Reason #4: it was the day he had first entered the mad dimension of human minds—the Metaverse.)
Oh Ryuji, we were so gullible back then, Akira couldn't help but think as they entered the castle; sure, it was in the same spot that the school had been, so it must have been Shujin Academy! (To have been so credulous...)
Then they were surrounded by masked knights, knocked out—or rather, Akira pretended to be knocked out—and swiftly thrown into the dungeon...except this time, it was Akira waking Ryuji up, instead of the other way around. "What the hell...how long was I out...?"
"Not too long," answered Akira, feeling an odd weight in the back of his mind: his will of rebellion, yearning to make itself known. I wonder when Kamoshida will officially recognize me as a threat, he wondered, looking down at where his Metaverse outfit had yet to manifest. "You okay?"
"Damn assholes hit me pretty hard," growled Ryuji, slowly rising to his feet. "This doesn't make any effin' sense..."
But their attempts at finding a way out were swiftly countered by the big man himself, pink underpants and all...
(Reason #5: it was the day he had encountered his first Shadow.)
...or, rather, the man's Other Self, distorted as it was.
Grandiose self-adulation aside, Akira could not help but recall the times where he had researched the figures whose hearts the Phantom Thieves had changed; trying to see where they had 'gone wrong', trying to gain an understanding as to when their desires had crossed the proverbial gate to the underworld.
None of that mattered in the moment, especially when Ryuji got gut-punched for trying to bullrush a way out for them. "Some king you are," he couldn't help but say aloud.
Kamoshida's Shadow glanced at him with bemusement, distracted from Ryuji Sakamoto. "Oh? You a friend of Sakamoto's?"
Akira stuffed his hands into his pocket, looking down at Ryuji—pained, scared, yet still carrying that dogged determination to do the right thing—before replying, "We just met...but he seems like a cool guy." (Technically the truth, if only because it didn't go far enough.)
Ryuji's bewilderment was outpaced only by Kamoshida's disdain. "Tch. Pathetic scum always gather together, it seems...fine. I'll focus on your execution."
(He still wasn't seen as a threat.) "You get one shot. Make it count..." With maximum guts, he snidely added, "...King."
The derision in his tone was enough to earn a right hook across the face from Kamoshida; Joker's glasses went flying, scattering onto the ground. "You should know when you're in the presence of your betters, worthless pest! Hold him down; he dies first."
As Akira was pressed against the wall by the knightly Shadows, the world seemed to pause. In the corner of his vision, a single blue butterfly flickered by. Lavenza?
"This is truly an unjust game...to be brought back against your will..."
Her voice, nonetheless, seemed amused, with genuine fondness.
"But if my voice is reaching you...then know that I believe in you...my Trickster..."
As his heart swelled, he heard another voice...one that had not sounded out for so long.
(Reason #6: it was the day he had awoken to his Persona.)
"So...we meet again..."
Time slowly began to resume. Indeed...
"You face an unknown foe; your decisions may lead to salvation, or to the doom of many..."
I know.
"Do you? Are you willing to accept the consequences of your actions? To walk a new path, even if it means the possibility of pain? Or to walk the road once travelled, even if your instincts scream at you to lash out?"
...I won't know until I get there. But I'll do what I think is right...even if nobody else agrees...even if it causes nothing but trouble.
His Other chuckled.
"Your resolve has been witnessed: let us renew our vow!"
The fire slowly roared within Akira.
"I am thou, thou art I...thou, who art willing to perform all sacrilegious acts for thine own justice!"
He knew he would be unable to play it safe; any outlandish action would be deemed 'sacrilegious' in this mysterious game against an unknown enemy...yet, he could not help but be true to who he was...a Trickster.
"Call upon my name, and release thy rage!"
He had been torn away from his old life; his family; his friends...
"Show the strength of thy will to ascertain all on thine own, though thou be chained..."
...and even now, the utter arbitrariness of it all—unexplained, leaving him to fumble in the dark, alone—pissed him off.
"...to Hell itself!"
He jabbed his arm upward, stabbing through the neck of the armored knight trying to restrain him with his trademark dagger.
Kamoshida's Shadow stumbled back. "A knife-?!"
(There was a distinct click in the back of his mind; it was as though the very atmosphere of the castle had become hostile.)
(Threat recognized, eh Kamoshida?)
With a burst of blue fire, amidst the mocking laughter of Arsène, Joker made his presence felt.
The temptation to put down Kamoshida's Shadow was fierce. (He was an utter scumbag...but there had not yet been a calling card. There was no Treasure to steal yet.)
(You cannot deny Ryuji and Ann the closure they deserve.)
Arsène settled for taking down the two Jack-o'-Lanterns; a bit of quick action from Ryuji allowed them to lock Kamoshida in their very own cell. As they took off through the dungeon, Ryuji was on the verge of losing his mind. "This is effin' nuts! What was that about? And what's with your clothes?!"
"Given that it helped us escape, I'm not gonna question it right now!" Akira retorted.
That was good enough for the faux blond. "Fair enough, dude; let's find a way out of here!"
And of course, that's how they ended up encountering one other individual of importance. "Hey! You two, with the blond and frizzy hairdos! Let me out of here!" cried a boyish voice.
(Reason #7: it was the day he had first met the determined and cat-hearted Morgana.)
As the suspicious Ryuji bantered with the indignant "definitely-not-a-cat", Joker noted the total lack of recognition. I know that Mona warned me it might be the case...but this still sucks. As the sound of armored footsteps approached, Joker asked, "Can you fight?"
The cat monster huffed. "Of course I can!"
"Then time is of the essence," he said, brushing past Ryuji's trepidation to unlock the cell door.
Morgana showcased his ability to fight shortly thereafter, summoning Zorro to fight against the approaching Shadows.
(Yet, there had been a brief hitch in Mona's words; "Come, M-", followed by a shake of the head. "Zorro!")
(He was about to say Mercurius, before correcting himself. Perhaps he's simply...forgotten?)
There would be time to figure that out later; for now, they had to focus on escaping.
xxxx
After splitting away from Morgana, and returning to reality, Akira and Ryuji had to deal with getting accosted by truancy officers. (Annoying, but understandable.)
Then, they had to get scolded by a school counselor and Kamoshida. (Irritating, but unavoidable.)
Finally, came the moment of introduction to Kawakami's class. Already, the gossip was flying.
When Kawakami tried to give him an out about being sick for the first half of the day (which was admittedly nice of her), Akira decided to just own up to a more carefree persona (heh). "Hello. I'm Akira Kurusu. I was wandering a castle and had to rescue a cat before escaping from a bunch of knights...but then I got lost on this crazy road we call life." Dead silence. "Anyhow, I'm available to tutor anyone if they need help with their lessons." Kawakami's tired sigh was well worth the sheer disbelief on the faces of the students; better for them to think he was a lackadaisical loon rather than a hardened criminal.
That tactic...didn't quite pan out well.
"Is that guy for real?"
"He's not just a criminal, he's actually psycho!"
"I wonder what he assaulted his victim with...maybe with a foam bat...?"
"He must be insane...quick, look away!"
So they think I'm a hardened criminal AND crazy. Great job, me.
At least his excuse was enough to keep Ann from accusing him of lying, if only because she was just as confused by his demeanor.
(The rest of the school day went about as much as he remembered...)
xxxx
/Later that Night/
"I got a call from the school. I hear you ditched half a day on your first day of school," said Sojiro, demanding an explanation without asking for one.
"I was wandering a castle and had to rescue a cat before escaping from a bunch of knights," Akira repeated without hesitation.
"...well, at least you're an inventive liar," the old man said with a scowl. "Listen: one wrong step and your life is over. Probation is a serious matter. Understand?"
Worth a shot. "I do."
"Good."
Such was life, alas.
So, let's recap, thought Akira, laying down on his bed a short while later. Rumors suck even more than I remember them being. Vague memories of keeping his head down at Shujin—at least early on—conflicted with an unapologetic demeanor honed by an entire lifetime as an adult and a family man. No choice but to buck up and deal with it...at least my rooftop meeting with Ryuji went well. They would end up back in Kamoshida's Palace before long...which reminded him of something. To the diary!
xx
Day: April 11th, 2016
Got lost on the way to Shujin. Met a blond guy and a talking cat. They both seem like cool dudes.
Shujin's gym teacher is a pervert. Kawakami-sensei needs a break. The school rooftop had some vegetable planters on it.
Also, gossip sucks.
xx
That'll do, thought Akira with a grin, looking down at his lean arms with disdain. Well...I do have some time to kill.
Unencumbered by tiredness from the Metaverse—due to experience, if nothing else—he tried his hand at doing hanging sit-ups and pull-ups from the rafters.
It went poorly. Man, I can't believe I was ever this weak, he thought, curled up on the floor from exhaustion. Pace yourself...
(At least falling asleep was easier.)
xxxx
"You have adopted quite the mask," remarked Fake Igor with a grin. "Not just that of a Fool, but a common jester..."
Joker, noting Caroline and Justine's trepidation, sat back down in the same folding chair from last night. "Well, I have to find ways to cope."
"Indeed..."
"...which reminds me of something." This was an old question that had never gotten answered to his satisfaction, back in the Last Life™. (Better to think of it with capital letters, to make it feel special. Because it was.) "Of all the ways you could have used to have people enter the Metaverse...why an app, of all things?"
Fake Igor chuckled. "Humans tend not to look deeply at the mysteries of the world they inhabit...especially if it's at the cost of added inconvenience. Technology in the human world is ubiquitous...and interfacing with technology is something of a speciality of mine."
Joker frowned, utilizing his Third Eye; had he seen a strange cloud of haze behind Fake Igor? Or had he imagined it? Hmm. Something to think about later. "If you say so..."
"We shall have to continue these conversations, Trickster...at another time. Until then, it would be wise to tread lightly..."
Joker wasn't sure whether it was a good or a bad thing that Yaldabaoth seemed to be enjoying himself.
(Probably a bad thing...)
(Definitely a bad thing.)
xxxx
/Tuesday: April 12, 2016/
The next morning, on the subway, Akira watched with subtle annoyance as a tired salaryman took a spot that a female Shujin student had vacated to let an older woman sit. Someone doesn't respect their elders. "Want me to wake him up?" he asked.
The girl shook her head, the stark red ribbon in her hair bouncing from the movement. "It's all right. I can understand his position as well."
As she turned towards the older woman to apologize, Akira tuned out the conversation (inwardly giving her due credit for being polite, if nothing else)...only to be stopped later, by the same student. "Pardon me! Thank you so much for earlier," the redhead said, bowing with a courteous manner.
Akira blinked with confusion, because this wasn't ringing a bell at all. "With what?" he dumbly replied.
"For speaking up when I offered my seat on the train," she explained, looking at the button on his collar. "You're a second-year at Shujin Academy, correct? I'm a first-year there myself. Thanking you totally slipped my mind back on the train, and I didn't want to be rude to my senpai!" Bowing once more, she said, "Please, excuse me," before heading on her way.
...huh. That was weird. Then again, he couldn't recall ever interacting with Shujin's first-years to a meaningful degree, so it was no surprise that a random student would have escaped his memories. At least she has good manners, he mused with a shrug, continuing onward without putting any more thought to it.
xxxx
Watching Suguru Kamoshida all but corner Ann Takamaki in the middle of the hallway after classes ended made Akira's blood boil.
(Being the father of two daughters probably didn't help with this sort of scenery, because everything in him was screaming to intervene and put Kamoshida in his place.)
(Here in the physical world, as you are now? That former Olympic athlete would hand you your ass.)
Fortunately, Ann made her getaway with a polite excuse, allowing him to move on to his afternoon meeting with Ryuji. After a very roundabout way of getting back to the Metaverse Navigator, the boys were back in Kamoshida's Palace.
When Ryuji marveled at his clothes, Joker — briefly recalling that, the first time around, he had been far more confused about his wardrobe — decided to let off some steam. "You jelly?" he cracked.
"I-I ain't jealous," Ryuji protested.
Yeah you are, Joker thought but didn't say. Heh, and my kids always got on my case for sticking with old lingo. Shows what they knew! (It was a petty motivational booster, but he had to take what he could get.)
Fortunately, Morgana was there to get them back on track; the investigation of the castle ensued in short order, which seemed to go according to what he remembered.
(Strangely enough, the whole bit with Ryuji giving him a model gun still happened...but for some reason, it seemed like ammo worked differently in the Metaverse than he remembered.)
(You are certainly not going to complain about your ammo replenishing after every battle.)
Pretending to take the fall against Kamoshida's herd of Bicorns...was somewhat annoying. (Though to be fair, those bastards' horns hurt.)
But Kamoshida's Shadow couldn't help gloating. (For an adult—a teacher; a man who had been granted authority, to use responsibly—to mock a child, to jeer at breaking his leg...it was far more infuriating than Akira remembered.) As the despair piled on, Joker impulsively roared, "Don't let the bastard win! You can still take a stand!"
"...you're right." A mere spark was enough to light the flame.
Thus did Ryuji Sakamoto hoist the flag, as Skull (not yet named) took to battle alongside Captain Kidd.
(A shame that they had to make a run for it after the battle; the sight of Kamoshida's scantily clad cognition of Ann made him want to tear down the pervert.)
(You'll get your chance...be patient.)
"Huh? Cooperate?"
Skull's voice brought Joker out of his own head, as Morgana began to explain. "Don't you remember? I originally came here for an investigation. I need to erase the distortion from my body and regain my real form! That's why we must delve deep into Mementos and-"
"Whoa, hold up. What're you goin' on and on about? We never said anything about helpin' you out."
This feels familiar. As Morgana's disbelief began to emerge, Joker said, "Making a deal is a two-way street," he interrupted, sticking his hands into his pockets. "Sure, we helped break him out of the dungeon, but he's also helped us out, and has been explaining things about this world...so why not return the favor?" Joker knelt down, looking intently into Morgana's big blue eyes. "But this Kamoshida guy...I haven't been around that long, but I've seen enough to see that he's real good at tearing down the hopes of others...and that doesn't sit right by me. So after we deal with Kamoshida...however that pans out...we'll help you with your investigation. How does that sound?"
Morgana huffed, cross his tiny arms petulantly. (Still no recognition; yet, he did not resist as much as one might expect.) "Well, you've showed a level head so far, rookie...I'll have to think about it."
Rising back up, Joker asked, "Are you going to stay here?"
"There's still more I need to understand..." Morgana muttered, looking pensively toward the top of the castle.
"...well, I ain't sure what you're on about, but anyone who wants to kick Kamoshida's ass is cool with me," said Ryuji with a grin, kneeling down to offer his gratitude. "Thanks for everything, cat. You've got guts, bein' a cat and all! See you around!"
Morgana was not amused. "What did you call me?!"
At least Ryuji means well, thought Joker as he followed Skull out of the Metaverse.
(Shortly thereafter, in that alleyway, a bond was begun anew...as a familiar voice spoke aloud in the back of his mind.)
(Your Chariot Confidant...what a nostalgic feeling...)
Clearly, they needed to celebrate their newfound (or rather, renewed in Akira's case) companionship with food.
xxxx
Eating at Ore no Beko was such a nostalgic trip...even if Ryuji tried to overload him with ginger. ("I can pile on my own ginger," he had protested. "Also, you left your egg unguarded!" With a slick move, Akira swiped Ryuji's last egg and cracked it open over his beef bowl, much to the athlete's dismay.)
(Such simplicity...it really does make you feel young again...)
"So," said Ryuji, stopping outside on Shibuya's central street, "about this plan to take down Kamoshida..."
Akira stared over his shoulder. (...were his eyes deceiving him?)
(They're not deceiving you.)
"Lower your voice," Akira cautioned, keeping his hands in his pockets.
"Ah, right..."
The two walked on, passing by a silver-haired woman and a young brown-haired man carrying a briefcase.
(That had been Sae Niijima and Goro Akechi...?)
(Neither of them recognized you.)
The urge to look around and stare at them was so very difficult to conquer. I don't remember this happening...maybe it did, though? I wouldn't have even known Niijima and Akechi by this point...
xxxx
Day: April 12th, 2016
Saw the blond guy and the talking cat again. The blond put on a pirate costume. I thought it was cool, so we decided to become friends.
I made him learn a lesson in beef bowl etiquette. He shall not cross me again! (J/K, we're still cool.)
Many faces that are familiar and unfamiliar. Hard to keep track of everything.
xxxx
"Are you becoming accustomed to this place?" asked Fake Igor with a grin.
"...some things are like I recall. Some things are different than I remember." Joker sat down in the folding chair, staring intently at his disguised foe. (As ever, Caroline and Justine remained at a distance. Had he unnerved them that badly?)
Fake Igor chuckled. "Ha ha ha...are you truly surprised? A human's mere memory is a fallible thing...and life is chaotic. Even the tiniest perturbation can cause untold changes...and the world has so many variables and parameters, that quantifying all the changes is beyond a mortal's ability...or are you professing ignorance of even that much?"
"I still have some familiarity with chaos theory and dynamical systems, thank you very much."
"Then you should be less rambunctious...after all, if even the smallest force can cause an avalanche..." He trailed off, waiting for Joker to respond.
"...then I'll be careful enough to avoid getting crushed," he answered. "But if I see someone else in the way of the avalanche, I'll do what I can to save them."
Yaldabaoth sneered using Igor's face. "And if it were to mean your ruin and theirs?"
Joker said nothing; echoes of the past seemed easier to recall, in this place. As such, he had a brief epiphany. "The last time around...this conversation was about relationships. Not 'superficial' or 'frivolous' ones...but true bonds...with those who have been robbed of their places to belong." For such words to come from the mouth of the God of Control...in retrospect, it was odd. "I wonder...does that mean you've been robbed of your place to belong as well? By whoever this 'Ruin' is...?"
Fake Igor did not immediately respond; yet, if he was offended or angered by Joker's point, he did not show it. Rather, he simply chuckled. "Surprisingly insightful, for a lowly human, cast into the role of Trickster...even if it be for only a short time, I have no objections to renewing our former deal..."
(And thus was the Fool Confidant renewed.)
Joker honestly didn't know what to make of Yaldabaoth at this moment.
(Stay frosty. You know he's deceptive...)
xxxx
/Wednesday: April 13, 2016/
The volleyball rally went about as well as Akira remembered. (Did Kamoshida truly get a rush from spiking Mishima in the face? What a loser.)
Likewise for the investigation of the volleyball players afterwards...and Ann's first confrontation with him and Ryuji. (He knew she was just trying to look out for Shiho, but the amount of misunderstandings were kind of painful, in retrospect.)
(You have to deal with it.)
The subsequent confrontation with Mishima and Kamoshida only served to make his blood boil. ("Everybody knows...the principal, our parents...they all know, and they all keep quiet about it." Mishima sounded so defeated; Akira's own memories as a parent only served to make that admission even more unfathomable. How could any parent worth their salt tolerate such abuse?!)
He was in such a rotten mood that he needed to blow off some steam at the local batting cages in Yongen-Jaya. (It only took a few rounds to score a Revival Bead and a Muscle Anklet; not bad for fifteen hundred yen spent.)
Then he calmed down with a crossword puzzle at LeBlanc.
(No, it was Leblanc still, the title on the awning hadn't been updated to LeBlanc until years later.)
(You need to keep everything in order...)
xx
Day: April 13th, 2016
Volleyball rallies are lame. Why couldn't Shujin have had a baseball team?
Also, Sojiro needs to buy tougher crossword puzzles.
Also, LeBlanc is way better than Leblanc.
xxxx
/Thursday: April 14, 2016/
Not only was the general praise for Kamoshida amongst the majority of the student body nauseating, but the rumors about Akira's presence at school had only escalated. Apparently, some people found it suspicious that he and Sakamoto had been seen talking with various members of the volleyball team, and had concocted all sorts of wild scenarios in the process. The worst part was that there no escape from it, because he was nothing but a student, and he would just have to deal. I hate this, he thought, keeping his hands in his pockets as he wandered the halls after school. I literally hate this.
(The calm and persevering habits ingrained into his body over an entire lifetime were no more; now he was in the body of a hormonal teenager, full of piss and vinegar. That was a poor combination for dealing with bullcrap.)
(You've forgotten the mundane realities of being a teenager, haven't you...?)
Such was Akira's inner frustration that he almost missed running into Shiho Suzui herself. The volleyball player, looking down at her phone with a solemn expression, blinked with surprise. "Oh...I'm in the way, aren't I? Sorry..."
"Don't worry about it," said Akira, his eyes impulsively glancing at the large bruise over Shiho's left eye. Kamoshida, you scum...! "Are you hurt?" he managed to say.
"Huh?" Shiho looked away, grabbing for her arm. "Um, well..." She changed the subject with a quiet desperation. "You don't look familiar...could you be that transfer student from Class D?" When he nodded, she said, "...this might not be any of my business, but don't let the rumors get to you, okay?"
That was actually very sweet of her; all thoughts of pretending that the rumors were nothing (because they were) were pushed aside in favor of curiosity. "Why do you say that?"
"Well, I've helped with a similar situation before...my best friend is often misunderstood too, all because of her looks..." She caught herself. "Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to drag on like that."
You weren't dragging on at all, he thought with a sense of protectiveness that was impossible to ignore. "No problem. I appreciate it."
His words coaxed a smile out of her, if only for an instant. "Anyway, I have to go to practice...I'll see you around."
(Are you going to say something?)
"Suzui-san," he quietly said, grabbing her attention. "I haven't been here long, but Kamoshida-sensei...he gives me really bad vibes. Try not to be alone with him if you can help it..."
Her expression was guarded and alert. "...you know my name?"
"Sakamoto talked about you and our classmate Takamaki-san over text," he explained. (Which was technically true.) "He's just concerned about the volleyball team after what happened with the track team. From what I gather, he's lived through something similar, you know?"
Shiho looked like she wanted to say more. "...thank you," was all she allowed herself to say, before she moved on.
I hope that's enough to change something, thought Akira as he moved on; if things went as he remembered, Shiho was going to try and commit suicide soon.
(What had the precise date been? Had it been the 18th of April? Or had it been later? He'd been at Shujin for at least a week before it had happened...right?)
(Of all the things for you to forget...)
xx
Fortunately, the subsequent meeting with Ryuji helped somewhat, if only because of the dramatic appearance of Morgana the Cat™. "I finally found you," the tuxedo cat called out.
"That voice...is that you, Morgana!?" exclaimed Ryuji.
It's been less than a week to me, and I already missed seeing you, Akira thought with hidden fondness. Outwardly, he asked, "How are you here? Why are you here?"
Morgana harrumphed. "I couldn't get any further, and you two didn't show up yesterday, so I decided to come to your world and find out what's going on. It was a lot of trouble finding you two."
From that point forward, the conversation went about as Akira remembered...with a couple of exceptions.
"That aside, why can you talk!? You're a cat!" Ryuji protested.
"How should I know?" retorted Morgana.
"You hearin' this too?" asked Ryuji.
Sorry bro, I need to let off some steam. "Meow?" he innocently replied.
Ryuji sputtered. "This is no time to be jokin' around!"
Akira couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his mouth.
One rooftop meeting later, and Morgana more fully explained the details of what changing the desires of a Palace Ruler would do, and how to do it. "Stealing Treasure, huh?" Akira said aloud. "Sounds neat."
Granted, in actuality, it was very close to how a mental shutdown could also be done, which Morgana also warned about. Ryuji, bless his heart, was much more concerned. "Hey...what do you think?"
Akira already knew his answer. "I'm interested."
"For real?" wondered Ryuji with genuine surprise.
Akira couldn't blame Ryuji, in all honesty; nor could he blame Morgana's irritation with their apparent hesitation. However, it was important for Ryuji to be able to come to his own conviction on this matter, without being proverbially bullied into it. Once we see more of Kamoshida's Palace, he'll lose all doubts...
(Hopefully, it wouldn't take a near-death experience from Shiho to seal the deal...)
xxxx
As Akira left school, the rumors about Ann and Kamoshida, Shiho and Kamoshida, and about himself and Ryuji were still everywhere. Ugh. How do kids live with being such gossipers? Don't you have enough drama in life without adding to it?!
Huffing to himself, Akira tried to keep his head cool, intentionally moving with the Tokyo crowds instead of in and around them (as was his habit) to let pure monotony simmer his frustrations.
Yet, as he continued onward to make his connection to Yongen-Jaya, he couldn't help but feel as though something was...off. (Wasn't something supposed to happen today?)
He tried to ignore his growing trepidation...
xxxx
(Life is chaotic; the smallest perturbations were enough to cause immense changes. One such change was in how Akira moved about the crowds, inadvertently changing his travel time.)
(Enough so, that Akira missed encountering Ann within Shibuya that day altogether; enough to miss eavesdropping on a fateful phone call.)
("Shiho's...starting position..." Ann murmured to herself, curled up on the ground. No one stopped to talk to her, or to listen to her frustrations.)
(She was not blind to the increasing regularity of Shiho's injuries...but for that man to go this far...?)
(No one was going to intervene, because no one wanted to help her. No one cared enough to help her.)
(All she could do was...was...)
(With an expression of utter defeat, she picked her phone back up, and dialed Kamoshida's number. "Hello, it's me. I'll...I'll come over...")
xxxx
Day: April 14th, 2016
Suzui seems like a sweet girl. Also ran into the talking cat again.
I feel like I'm missing something. It's bugging the crap out of me.
xxxx
/Friday: April 15, 2016/
Ann Takamaki — her head covered by the hood of her normal sweatshirt — had excused herself to go to the bathroom before Kawakami-sensei started homeroom that day.
She had not yet returned by the time Ushimaru-sensei's class had started for first period.
It was odd enough so as to actually stick out for Akira, because Ann was usually rather quick about such things. Why is it bothering me...?
It was during Ushimaru's talk about the separation of powers that a familiar voice piped up. "Have you made up your mind?" whispered Morgana from within his desk.
The impulsive questions—how did you sneak in here? Why did you wait until NOW to speak up?—were overshadowed by a memory that came roaring back with sudden clarity. (Morgana had peeked out of his desk right before Shiho tried to...that meant today was the day!)
(You don't have time.)
Akira swiftly requested permission to use the restroom. Uncaring for Ushimaru's disgruntled approval, he quickly rushed out—ignoring the snickers of the class at how fast he was going—and for the restrooms...and then past them. Get to the roof, get to the roof, get to the roof...! (Something was wrong. But what?)
That niggling sense of unease exploded into sheer horror as he burst onto the rooftop; instead of Shiho Suzui looking over the edge, it was Ann Takamaki, trying to climb over the fence (it wasn't tall enough, nowhere near tall enough...!) to the edge beyond...and the open air...! What the hell?! "Takamaki?!" he yelled with genuine shock.
The girl yelped, falling back onto the roof; her hood was knocked back from the slight impact. "Ow..."
"What...what were you doing...?" he wondered aloud.
"...why would you care," she hissed, looking up angrily at him, her face wet from copious tears. "Nobody cares...nobody cares about anything at this damn school..." Hiccuping from agony and emotion, she hoarsely spoke, unable to stop herself. "I didn't see a way out...I thought I could deal with it...I thought I would be able to handle it...but he's just so disgusting..." She clutched at her shoulders and crossed her legs, as though trying to be as small as possible. "...I finally worked up the nerve to start climbing, when you showed up...but if I go, who will look after Shiho...?" Snivelling and sobbing, she moaned, "I can't take this anymore..."
Ann's neck was visible; although there were signs of makeup having been applied, there were obvious hickies peeking out.
(No...had Kamoshida actually...?!)
The sheer fury boiling through his veins—Kamoshida you pigheaded bastard, you're dead—was countered only by the need to comfort the crying girl in front of him. "...I spoke with Suzui, yesterday," he said. "She told me not to worry about the rumors. Your friend's very kind."
"...and how would you know about her...?" Ann bitterly murmured.
"Well, I have been hanging out with Sakamoto. He's talked about how you three went to the same middle school."
"...he did...?"
With as much kindness as he could muster, Akira knelt down in front of Ann, far enough away to ensure she didn't feel cornered. "I know I'm just a transfer student...but I can see how much Sakamoto and Suzui care about you, each in their own way. So please...don't let whoever did this to you win..."
Ann hitched, reaching up to cover her neck. "...so you see them...?"
Akira opted for a gamble. "...it was Kamoshida, wasn't it?" He could not disguise the fury in his voice.
At that name, Ann burst into open sobbing.
(How? It was supposed to be Shiho that Kamoshida had gone after, not Ann! What had happened?! Why had this happened?!)
(Life...and the world...are much bigger than you. And you can't control everything...)
xx
It took some prodding, but Akira Kurusu finally managed to convince Ann Takamaki to text Shiho Suzui. "We have ten minutes between first and second period," he cautioned. "People will start to wonder..."
Ann, hiccupping to herself, nonetheless numbly nodded; as she gingerly texted Shiho, he decided to reach out to Ryuji Sakamoto.
Akira: Ryuji, head up to the rooftop ASAP once first period ends.
Ryuji: huh? why?
Akira: Ann just tried to kill herself because of Kamoshida.
Ryuji: WTF?
Akira: i'll explain later, but be discreet
(So focused were they on texting, that they did not notice a particular figure observing them from beyond the closed doors to the rooftop.)
(That figure — a certain teacher — did not intervene, smugly knowing that he could work with this turn of events; without a word, he departed downstairs.)
First period ended several minutes later at 9:30 AM; it took less than two minutes for Shiho Suzui to make it up to the rooftop, her eyes wide with concern. "Ann...!"
"Shiho," she blubbered, teeth bared with anguish. "I'm...so sorry..."
When Shiho looked at him with visible tension, he explained, "I saw her climbing after I asked to go to the restroom." (Technically true.) "I...I couldn't leave her, after that."
"...thank you," Shiho murmured, quickly kneeling down beside her friend. Her eyes widened imperceptibly at "Ann...we should get you to the counselor-"
Ann violently shook her head. "No. No. I can't trust...I can't trust anyone at this school...they all know what he's like, they have to...they're not blind..."
"...then let's get to the bathroom to freshen you up," she said, helping the blonde to her feet. "And...we'll try and deal with this after school..."
That was all that could be done, at this juncture; Akira quietly departed ahead of them, looking down the stairs where Ryuji was heading up. "Is she-?!"
"...I stopped her before she could get over the fence," he admitted, biting his lip with anger. "I'd rather not say out loud what I think Kamoshida did to her." (He didn't have to spell it out; there were few things that would have convinced Ann Takamaki to attempt suicide.)
It was enough to light a fire in Ryuji's eyes. "That effin' bastard..." Pounding his hand into his palm, he growled, "...I think my mind's made up. Let's do what Morgana suggested and take his Treasure; I don't give a rat's ass what happens to him anymore!"
Akira nodded, not trusting himself to say words right now.
Thus did they split off; he quietly returned to Class 2-D, right before second period started. There were various whispers and derogatory comments about the qualities of his digestive system; yet, other rumors about what he had done for the entire period—because there was no way he had been using the restroom for over half an hour, he had to have been up to no good, and so on—likewise bubbled up.
The gossip only increased in their salacious content the moment Ann returned, shortly after second period started. Although Shiho had done an admirable job of helping her with her makeup, it was impossible for her to hide how distraught she was.
(There was going to be so much speculation regarding the fact that both he and Ann had been out of the classroom at the same time. Such was the bane of belonging to a species who thrived on searching for patterns in disparate pieces of data.)
(And you know that they will be wedded to those patterns, no matter how incorrect they are...)
He would just have to endure it...all the while ignoring Morgana's attempts at getting his attention, because he was not talking to a cat in the middle of class.
(As the day went on, whispers about Ann trying to climb over the rooftop fence began to circulate as well, creating a suffocating miasma.)
(You will have to endure.)
xxxx
Unlike the Last Time Around™, the school day had not been interrupted by a girl jumping off of the school's rooftop.
Even so, Akira was surprised when Mishima approached his desk. "Kamoshida-sensei wants to see you at the P.E. Faculty office."
...hmm. "Did he say why?"
Mishima, looking at him with fear and trepidation, shook his head before moving on.
This could go poorly. Akira stuck his bag up against the opening of his desk. "Hop in," he whispered.
Morgana grumbled. "I'm not just a piece of luggage you know."
"If you want me to get you out without being spotted, you'll get in."
The cat, despite his irritation, complied.
On the way to the P.E. faculty office, all of the other students gave him a wide berth; even more so, when Ryuji caught up with him. "Mishima tell you to head to Kamoshida too?"
Akira's alarm increased. "...just stay frosty," he murmured, eventually rounding the corner to the office that was Kamoshida's own little fiefdom. "You wanted to speak with us?" he asked diplomatically, once the door closed behind Ryuji.
Kamoshida, sitting at his computer, turned around with a stern expression. "You know, I thought you had the chance to make something of yourself at our illustrious Academy...but I guess expecting a convicted criminal to control themselves was too much to ask for."
"The hell...?" mouthed Ryuji.
Akira frowned. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to, sir."
"Don't play dumb," said Kamoshida, crossing his arms. "You were the one who assaulted Ann Takamaki, weren't you? To think she seriously contemplated committing suicide...I can only imagine what you did to her."
As Akira's blood went cold—oh, you snivelling liar—Ryuji protested, "You bastard, who do you think you're trying to fool?!"
"And it's no surprise, that our resident delinquent would stick up for another piece of trash." Kamoshida spoke with conviction, belied only by the slimy condescension underlying his voice: he was arrogant, and self-assured to the utmost. "We have an eyewitness that saw Kurusu and Takamaki on the roof. And I've been hearing all day that people saw Takamaki trying to climb the rooftop fence..." Sighing dramatically, he bemoaned the current circumstances. "It's a shame, that even at Shujin, mixed-race students can't escape discrimination...that poor girl..."
Ryuji visibly boggled at Kamoshida's falsehoods, whilst Akira kept his hands stuffed into his pockets. You utter sleaze. "If anyone talks to either Takamaki-san or Suzui-san, they'll tell the truth about what happened."
"Obviously, Takamaki and Suzui have been threatened by you to lie on your behalf; given that you were convicted for criminal assault, who's going to doubt that?" Standing up, Kamoshida lorded over them like the king he thought he was. "And in the end, nobody will care about what scum like you have to say. Once I report your actions at the next board meeting, your expulsion is guaranteed."
"...you...you..." Ryuji sounded like he was going to explode.
Kamoshida sighed, sounding downright tired. "Do we need another case of 'self-defense'? Because I'm more than willing to oblige."
Before Ryuji could burst into action, Akira spoke with a cold and detached tone. "If that's the case...why not report us immediately? After all, if it's as you say...why let someone who assaulted a student remain among the student body?"
At this, Kamoshida could only sneer, letting more of his true self out. "You lot are a dime a dozen; every right-minded student in this school knows what rubbish you two are. And they'll remind you of that on a daily basis. Should you happen to lash out from the pressure, hypothetically speaking...well, that will just make your expulsion all the more justifiable, won't it? Unless you'd like to attack me now, and save some time." The coach sat back down, a smug grin crossing his face before his lips contorted into a disgusted grimace. "All you had to do was get with the program; if you can't do that much, then what good are you?"
"...you're not going to get away with this!" cried out Ryuji.
Akira, meanwhile, adjusted his glasses with a subtle motion. "...you're a pretty miserable creature, getting such joy and satisfaction out of taking the futures of those you know are innocent."
Kamoshida snorted. "Pity parties won't get you anywhere; you're nothing but a pair of losers who deserve everything that's coming for them. Now get out of my sight."
xx
So...Mishima wasn't threatened with expulsion like us. His absence from the meeting with Kamoshida was yet another variable. I'll see what comes of that...
"...he's as unpleasant in reality as he is in the Metaverse," murmured Morgana, his eyes peering out of a gap in the zipper of his carrying bag. "So...you two have decided?"
Akira and Ryuji both nodded. "School's out; let's infiltrate that castle," said the former with a determined expression.
xxxx
Joker definitely remembered Ann joining them in the Metaverse after the suicide attempt.
That she didn't this time around was...unfortunate, but not unexpected, given that she had 'swapped roles' with Shiho this time around. (It was certain that Ann's passions burned more fiercely than Shiho's...and the fact that Ann had been stopped before her attempt meant that Shiho was more likely to spend her time comforting Ann than looking for retribution against Kamoshida.)
(You were hoping that obtaining her as an ally would be so simple...?)
Still, there was nothing that could be helped about that; they had a Palace to infiltrate...and fortunately, the beats went about as Joker remembered: Skull and Mona officially becoming his comrades' codenames; learning about Hold-Ups, All-Out Attacks, Shadow Negotiations; getting them on his side as allies.
Pixie, Bicorn, Jack-o'-Lantern, Agathion, Mandrake, Silky, Kelpie...and a Shadow by the name of Cait Sith which he certainly didn't recall being here before. ("Nya~" he said under his breath, after placing the new mask over his face.)
(You at least do not have the same Persona limit as you did before...)
"Say Mona, how come you can't get those 'Ket Shee' things to fight with us?" asked Skull.
"Is that some kind of cat joke?!"
"I mean...not really...?"
Joker smirked, readjusting his gloves. "Calm down, guys. Let's keep going."
xx
The first Rest Spot — blind spots in Kamoshida's cognition, and hence stable refuges that had minimal distortion — was a welcome place.
Yet it only solidified the fact that the trio would be continuing on through Kamoshida's Palace, instead of taking a detour to rescue Ann before her Awakening.
(Would she actually awaken in this new timeline at all...?)
xx
After more sneaking, a couple of puzzles, and practicing with Ambushes and Baton Passes (which, for some reason, felt like they had a lot more oomph than he remembered...), they came upon a ruined spiral staircase...which is when Mona decided to break out a grappling hook, of all things. "Phantom Thieves have to be stylish, after all..."
"...how long have you had this?" wondered Joker.
"...I may have gotten bored after you two left yesterday...?" said Mona with a bit of sheepishness.
Skull tilted his head. "How does a cat make complicated stuff with paws...?"
"I'm not a cat!" hissed Mona.
Joker, adjusting the hook's grip on his arm, asked, "Well, what was keeping you from giving it over before our infiltration?"
"...dramatic timing?" answered Mona with a shrug.
Joker nodded. "Fair enough for me. Now...do you have some for yourself and Skull?"
Mona looked back at Skull before looking at Joker. "...I ran out of materials..."
"Oh come on!" protested Skull. "So what now?!"
Joker sighed, already knowing what would be the most efficient.
Moments later, he was slumped over on the stairs high above, whilst Ryuji was fighting down a panic attack. "WARN A DUDE NEXT TIME BEFORE YOU GO FLYIN'!"
"Hey, I was able to get us up here in one go, wasn't I?" grumbled Joker, rubbing at his shoulder; holding onto both Ryuji while Mona hung onto his back had not been fun. Need to work out more, he mused with a grimace. "But I think you should invest in making more of those grapplers."
Mona couldn't really protest that.
xx
The puzzle involving four books—amidst a library detailing all of Kamoshida's twisted thoughts in terms of how he viewed himself and others—revealed a different image this time: instead of Shiho's pictures scattered about a poorly disguised torture chamber, there was a King-sized bed covered with roses and flower petals. A gigantic picture of Ann Takamaki hung on the wall behind the bed, her image and depicted wardrobe exaggerated into the caricature of a queen. In addition, near the bed, there were echoes of words spoken by two voices: one by a man brimming with smug satisfaction, the other by a young woman weakly protesting his advances.
Ryuji, snarling with fury, kicked the bed over and knocked the picture off of the wall. "That shitty bastard..."
Joker, having grabbed the items they needed to proceed further on, opted for summoning Arsène and blasting the entire room with Eiga, several times over.
"You know this might cause his cognition to shift in reality," warned Mona.
"Kamoshida doesn't deserve to have any gratification from what he did," coldly said Joker. "Not even in memory."
"Hell yeah," agreed Skull.
(Then they were too busy dealing with a Berith Shadow to think about it any further.)
xx
Once the aptly named Disaster Shadow exploded — taking out a whole group of Shadows around it, and leaving behind a Bead to boot — Joker couldn't help but wonder why these couldn't have been around during his Last Life™.
xx
After defeating the Archangel Shadow in the East Building Annex, Skull wanted to call it quits. "That asshole was tough..." he grumbled, downing a can of soda to no avail. "This stuff isn't working like it was earlier..."
Joker, so long used to such mundane items being helpful, inwardly acknowledged that perhaps the intricacies of the Metaverse hadn't quite sunken in yet. After all, this is Ryuji's first time through since awakening to Captain Kidd; plus, we don't have a fourth teammate to help share the burden. (It felt like such a lost opportunity.) "...all right. Perhaps we'll call it a day."
"...if you say so," muttered Mona, who nonetheless sounded somewhat relieved.
Once they were outside of the Metaverse, Akira leaned back against the alley wall, watching Ryuji catch his breath. "Tomorrow's Saturday...we should probably go on a supply run after school, since it's a shorter day..."
"Good idea," agreed Ryuji. "I've got all sorts of ideas for what should work inside the Palace."
"...do you have Suzui or Takamaki's phone number?" he wondered. "I...want to make sure they're okay."
Ryuji sighed, shaking his head. "Sorry dude." Looking down at their feline companion, he asked, "You still gonna hang around the school?"
"If we're taking time to rest up, I might as well do so with one of you." Mona looked up with expectation at Joker. "No offense to Ryuji, but I'd rather go with our leader."
Ryuji rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't have been able to keep a cat at my apartment anyway."
Akira smiled, opening up his bag. "I will accept this mission gladly."
xxxx
(Little did the trio know, as they departed that evening, that they were being observed.)
(The man adjusted his glasses, watching the two young men from afar. "How curious...")
xxxx
Later that night, as Morgana helped himself to food from Sojiro Sakura, Joker wrote in his probation diary.
Day: April 15th, 2016
Today was really messed up.
I'm not sure if it can be made right...but I have to try, for Ann's sake.
At least Sojiro has a soft spot for this little fleabag.
"I am not a fleabag!" protested a boyish voice from over his shoulder.
Also, I need to learn not to talk out loud while writing in this thing.
xx
Turning away from his diary, Akira quietly listened to Morgana speak of making a deal. The matter of infiltration tools was familiar, but it was the matter of whether he was a human or a cat that Akira wanted to address. "What if you're neither?"
Morgana balked. "Eh?"
"Well, you say you're not a cat...and you claim to be a human because of our ability to understand you. But we've also talked with a lot of Shadows in the Metaverse who are neither humans nor cats."
"...true, but-"
"And about whatever caused you to become 'distorted' in the first place: what would even be capable of that? And given that Kamoshida doesn't recognize his own distorted desires, how are you able to claim that you've experienced a distortion?" Akira tilted his head. "Do you have distorted desires?"
"Of course not; I have a Persona, after all!"
So did Goro Akechi, and he acted plenty distorted as far as I'm concerned, Akira thought but didn't say. "I'm just saying to expand your horizons: the answer as to who you really are may not be as simple as you think it is. And if it's not, who cares?"
"I care," grumbled Morgana, his paws impulsively grooming his ears. "...you have a lot of interesting things to say, human. I think our deal will be fruitful for both of us..."
(Thus returned the Magician Confidant...)
xxxx
/Saturday: April 16, 2016/
The gossip had only worsened. (It didn't help that Ann Takamaki was absent that day, so Akira had to serve as the sole target for Class 2-D's inquisitorial attentions.)
So much so, that Akira forced himself to head to the rooftop during the lunch period, just for a moment of peace.
To his everlasting surprise, someone else was already up there, watering various planters filled with vegetables and flowers. "Oh!" exclaimed a girl with very floofy hair. "Um...I believe the rooftop is off-limits..."
"And yet here you are," he replied, taking in the sight of Haru Okumura. (What a commentary on his life that the gossip was so exhausting that he could barely feel giddy at the sight of her. How in the world had he tolerated it the Last Time Around™?) "My apologies; I just came up here to eat in peace and quiet. I won't bother you."
"...if you insist." The young woman continued watering and tending to her plants, while Akira helped himself to his yakisoba pan. With the noodle bun devoured in short order, Akira tried to get his thoughts in order. Just...ignore everything. Focus on the mission ahead of you. Alas, it wasn't long before he noticed Haru looking in his direction every so often, as if concerned by his very presence. Agh...curse my easily swayed romantic soul, he dramatically wailed in his internal monologue. Sighing, he rose to his feet, heading towards the door.
"You're leaving?" asked Haru with audible surprise.
"I can tell I'm making you uncomfortable...and given the rumors going around, I can't exactly blame you." He made a brief show of being inquisitive, making a guess (which was totally not a guess) as to her identity. "I haven't seen you in my year...and I doubt they'd let a first-year be up here unsupervised. A third-year, then?"
"Excellent deduction!" she exclaimed, lightly clapping out of politeness.
Even that threatened to make him blush. "Well then, I'll leave you be, senpai." Lightly bowing, he quickly made an about-face. Blast it all, she still makes the heart race...
xx
(Unbeknownst to Akira, Haru watched him leave with a strange despondence. "So that must be the rumored transfer student, huh...?")
xxxx
The afternoon, at least, was easy enough; thanks to the shorter school day, he had time to accompany Ryuji to Untouchable—an airsoft shop just off of Shibuya's Central Street—and still make it to Tae Takemi's Clinic before it closed.
It helped to actually have some experience, this time around...
xx
"So," said the airsoft shop's gruff-voiced owner, Munehisa Iwai. "An automatic? A revolver? Whaddya want?"
"Uh, automatic...?" Ryuji sputtered. "Dude, why're you talkin' about cars now!?"
Oh dear gods Ryuji, please no, thought Akira, his head sagging.
Iwai saw his reaction and chuckled. "Not easy bringing a newbie, is it? Then again, I haven't seen you around either."
"I'm new in town," Akira explained. Mustering up his guts and knowledge, he spoke with an authority that some would have found surprising. "My friend's built for power, so he'll take..." Making a show of looking around, he specifically pointed towards the shotguns. "The Granelli M3."
"Impressive that you know it just by looking at it," admitted Iwai. "You must be a punk with a taste for danger."
Ryuji bristled at the term; Akira simply shrugged. "Yep. Just a couple of punks."
Iwai snorted. "I'm sure. And are you interested in buying?"
Akira — moving intentionally slowly to show he was no threat — unzipped his bag and pulled out the model gun Tkachev that Ryuji had gifted him mere days ago. "Looking for something a bit more slick...like that 1911 up on the shelf."
"The Governance, huh?" murmured Iwai. "A punk who knows what he's talking about...a pretty dangerous combination."
Just to sell the facade, Akira began twirling his current model gun around his trigger finger, spinning it in a manner that left Ryuji boggling.
Alas, Iwai was not so impressed. "Or maybe you're just a typical tryhard. Who do you think you are, Revolver Bobcat?" Shrugging, Iwai decided it wasn't his business. "You gonna pay?"
Akira — thankful that Morgana was waiting outside — promptly upended his bag over the counter, unveiling a proverbial horde of various knick-knacks and baubles that they had purloined from Kamoshida's Palace. "How much are you willing to pay for these?"
"I don't barter," grumbled Iwai, nonetheless appraising the items with a practiced eye. "But I know some buyers for this sort of junk...do I want to know where you got all of this from?"
"The better question is, do you think the answer will give you more or less hassle?" Akira cryptically responded.
Iwai smirked. "...fair enough."
xx
On their way out...
"Dude, how'd you do that thing with the...whippity-whoo?"
Akira stared at Ryuji. "Whippity-whoo?"
"You know what I mean! The cool spinny thing!"
"Out in the countryside, you'd be surprised what you end up learning when you have too much time on your hands." (A technical answer. Also a non-answer, but whatever.)
xxxx
Akira set foot into Takemi's Clinic mere minutes before it closed. "What are you here for today?" she asked.
(Was her voice different than he remembered?)
Eh, whatever, not a big deal. "I'm looking for some pain medicine."
"And over the counter isn't enough?" she asked.
"...it's important," he murmured. "And for a good cause. And since I've heard rumors about this clinic..." (Maybe. Possibly. He couldn't recall the exact content of said rumors, but he definitely remembered there being rumors, way back when!)
Cue the examination room, where Takemi did the 'door lock' routine that he recalled from long ago. However, when she pressed him for details as to what he was up to...he decided for honesty. "A friend of mine at school got sexually harassed by a teacher...and I think she's trying to keep it quiet." Gripping his knees, he growled, "I don't know if this medicine will be of any help at all, but if it can..."
Somehow, he managed to hit a bull's-eye. "It's funny; you walked into the cafe last night with such a distraught expression on your face, that you didn't even look in my direction...which I found decidedly odd, given my casual attire."
"...you were at Leblanc yesterday?" He asked with genuine surprise, much to her amusement.
(You haven't been paying attention...)
Granted, the homebrew medicine she was willing to provide him wasn't cheap...and so began his second time around as Takemi's Guinea Pig™.
(At least the colors were pretty...)
(And so you've made a deal, renewing your Death Confidant...)
xxxx
Day: April 16th, 2016
Got some cool stuff at the airsoft shop. Also saw a pretty goth lady who would probably terrify most people.
Good thing I'm kind of crazy.
Oh, and I saw the girl who tends to the vegetable planters on the school's rooftop.
I think she's cute. And kind of adorable.
But tomorrow is another day...
xxxx
/Sunday: April 17, 2016/
The trio of Phantom Thieves started bright and early, arriving outside of Shujin Academy to infiltrate Kamoshida's Palace.
Alas, it was time to be introduced to Persona Fusion...via execution.
As Joker concentrated on his fusions—fortunately, Caroline and Justine were more than happy to work the guillotine—he briefly glanced towards Fake Igor. "So...why would you be interested in helping me?"
"Elaborate."
"A power with infinite possibilities...why nurture that potential at all, if you were ultimately opposed to me? If you believed mankind was doomed from the start...why go through the pretense?"
Yaldabaoth chuckled. "Mankind's potential is vast...yet it is constantly checked by itself. Salvation and damnation alike run through the veins of each individual...as you yourself are now keenly aware." With hidden malice, he remarked, "To see that which you deemed precious, cast aside by the whims of fate...do you now understand why we cautioned you to tread lightly?"
Joker ignored the shot at Ann's circumstances, and focused on his question. "You seem to be convinced that damnation is what awaits us."
"Is that what you believe?" Fake Igor huffed with amusement. "That which you consider to be a ruinous fate is one that many would deem paradise...but which expression yields the most power? Which aspect of humanity overwhelms all others? That is the question I sought an answer for...even if it wasn't to my satisfaction."
"Yet you're going to try again? Even knowing what awaits you at the end?"
The God of Control chuckled. "The future is not set in stone...perhaps, at the end of everything, you'll be agreeing with me..."
Joker snorted. Fat chance. "One more question...why give me something like the Third Eye? In fact, why let me keep that power beyond the point we became enemies?"
"...my experiment was multifaceted. To narrow it down to just this wretched game would be...shortsighted."
For some reason, this didn't reassure Joker at all. "Hmm."
Having fused multiple Personas—Pixie and Agathion to Genbu; Bicorn and Jack-o'-Lantern to Saki Mitama; Mandrake and Kelpie to Berith—Joker departed with a more focused mind, as Arsène, Silky, and Cait Sith occupied a mental space alongside his three new Personas. (Or was it Personae? Eh, whatever.)
"You okay dude?" wondered Skull. "You seemed to zone out for a second there."
"Just a bit of meditation to get myself in the game," he said. (Technically correct, in a certain sense.) "Let's mosey."
xx
Joker definitely didn't remember anything about Will Seeds from before.
(Mona was rambling. "-these are clusters of distortions, coalesced into a defined form-")
(Skull interrupted him. "That sounds like mumbo jumbo. Will it help us?")
("Of course! I think...")
("You think!?")
The banter between the two washed over Joker; he was too busy grimacing at the subtle echoes of Kamoshida's voice, speaking his deepest and darkest thoughts. Personally, I can go without him moaning about smooth he thinks Ann's skin is, he thought with a grimace, reaching for the skull-shaped seed.
There was a flash of insight—a younger Kamoshida, sitting for a TV interview; displaying actual humility and a sense of charity; demonstrating genuine shock and surprise at the flirty talk from the female announcer—that caused the three to waver. "Did you see that...?" asked Skull.
"Most likely a memory he can't forget...or perhaps a memory he wants to forget," murmured Mona. "Either one could form part of the foundation of his distorted desires."
"So, what, we're looking at who he was before he went bad?"
Interesting, mused Joker, pocketing the red seed within his coat's bottomless pockets. "Let's keep going."
xx
Onward and upward, they went, exploring more of the Palace as they ascended past the rooftop, and entered the central tower; a bit of exploring unearthed a second Will Seed, colored a sterling green. "Just one more to go after this!" cheered Mona.
Yet another memory played out—Kamoshida, remorseful and apologetic about drunkenly forcing himself onto a woman; a nondescript manager, offering to take care of the matter—that left Skull looking conflicted. "Weird to think about him apologizin' for anything."
"...but we know his story doesn't have a happy ending," said Joker, a dark shadow crossing his face.
Skull nodded.
xx
"Dude, this is so gross," moaned Skull, looking at all of the statues of female torsos—some nude, some bearing scanty T-shirts and bloomers—that lined the violet halls of the main tower.
Joker—having since obtained an Angel Persona—trying for a bit of levity, said, "Well, I think it's safe to say that Kamoshida doesn't have a thing for hands or feet."
Skull gagged. "Aw, what the hell, dude, I don't wanna think about what that pervert gets his rocks off to!"
Mona tilted his head with confusion. "What are you two yapping about?"
"Nothing,"
xx
After a brief detour—via an automated lift that connected them to the main hall, along with pulling a lever to activate another lift—they found the door to the third Will Seed.
"...Joker."
"Yes, Skull?"
"Why does that Shadow look like a-?"
"Skull, it's Kamoshida."
"...bleh."
After barely defeating the slimy green Shadow — not-so-subtly titled the Torn King of Desire, ugh — they claimed the third Will Seed.
The third memory—Kamoshida's concern for how his actions would harm the company's reputation; the manager's plea for him to continue being the 'ideal sportsman'; the manager's offer of women 'discreetly', to provide an outlet for his urges—made Skull scoff. "A beneficial arrangement, huh? As if."
Mona looked up at Joker. "Does that change your mind about stealing his Treasure?"
Joker shook his head. "...he was always capable of saying no. Even if it would have cost him a lot...even if it would have been painful...he still had the choice to do the right thing." Grabbing at the blue seed, he concluded, "We know what his choice ultimately was."
(Now, in all fairness, they were swiftly distracted by all three seeds merging into some bizarre, triple-headed crystal.)
(At least it'll give its user Diarama for free...)
(...but why would a 'Crystal of Lust' give a healing Skill?)
(You really shouldn't question it too much...)
xx
After an arduous slog and a few long rests — there were way too many Archangel and Eligor Shadows to deal with, seriously — the trio finally reached the apex of the main keep: a throne room, where Kamoshida's Shadow was raging and roaring at the Shadows to find them. Sneaking past them, the entered the proverbial Treasure Room.
"...what the eff is this?" asked Skull, looking at the hazy, wavy mass of light hovering in the air.
"The Treasure." Mona smirked. "Now to make it materialize into a physical form..." Thus began Mona's fateful explanation of the Calling Card, warning Kamoshida that they would be stealing his heart.
Needless to say, Skull was quite enthusiastic. "Man, I'm so pumped."
"...our Infiltration Route is secured," said Joker. "Let's brainstorm about the calling card back in reality."
xxxx
They stopped by the Bikkuri Boy diner on Shibuya's central street, devouring salisbury steak and Frui-Tea to replenish their stamina. Ideas were quietly shared about the contents of the calling card, and how to deliver it; they had spent practically the entire day navigating the rest of the Palace, and they needed to be on their A-game for tomorrow.
We'll deliver it tomorrow, swore Akira as he made his way back to Sojiro's cafe. And then...we'll take his desires.
xxxx
Day: April 17th, 2016
Spent all day exploring with my blond buddy and the talking cat.
I think it was quite productive.
Let's hope tomorrow turns out to be better than last Monday.
xxxx
/Monday: April 18, 2016/
Akira intended to be the distraction so that Ryuji could do his bit as discreetly as possible.
Fortunately, Kamoshida made it easy, as he was hanging out in front of the school gates. "Good morning."
Akira said nothing, giving him a frosty glare.
Kamoshida huffed, betraying none of his actual feelings. "You're marked, kid; you won't escape what's coming to you. Just make sure to keep your filthy hands off of Takamaki-san...if you can manage that much."
It was a parting shot, meant to antagonize. For once, Akira took the bait. "Look who's talking."
Apparently, that was all it took; Kawakami-sensei pulled him aside after homeroom ended to talk with him in person. Before she could even elaborate as to what they were going to talk about, three people walked out of the guidance office: some school official (whose name and station Akira honestly couldn't be bothered to remember, how scandalous), Kamoshida, and the redheaded first-year he had encountered on the subway days ago. "I see you're already getting on top of the problem I'd mention this morning, Kawakami-san! I appreciate the support."
"Hello again," greeted the girl.
"Oh, you know this guy, Yoshizawa?" asked Kamoshida.
Yoshizawa...definitely not a name I remember.
The redhead — Yoshizawa, apparently — nodded, "Yes! He lent me a helping hand the other day."
Kamoshida sighed. "I recommend you steer clear of the likes of him if you have any consideration for your future...or you welfare. Remember the discussion we just had? There are a number of students in this school you shouldn't get involved with...this one's at the top of the list."
Go ahead, keep talking about me as if I'm not here.
Yoshizawa suddenly balked. "Oh, the delinquent transfer student...?"
"Yes, that one," said Kamoshida. "And given the rumors I've been hearing, you'd best ensure you look out for yourself."
Akira, quietly flexing his neck, decided to speak up. "I find it quite heartening that you're so concerned about Yoshizawa-san's welfare, Kamoshida-sensei...it speaks very highly of you." Adjusting his glasses slowly, he remarked, "I believe the French call it noblesse oblige? It's only proper, for one of your standing...right?"
Kamoshida huffed, a sneer briefly crossing his face before it was snuffed out. "Pretensions at knowledge don't do you any favors."
Kawakami, deciding that she was simply tired of it all, remarked, "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to use the guidance office-"
"Kamoshida-sensei!"
The cry of Mishima caught everyone's attention as he ran from down the hall. "No running in the halls!" chided Nameless School Official™.
"What's going on?" demanded Kamoshida.
Catching his breath, Mishima briefly looked at Akira — shivering with trepidation — before looking back at the P.E. teacher. "There's...something on the bulletin board...!"
Akira stifled his impulsive smirk.
xx
TAKE YOUR HEART
Sir Suguru Kamoshida, the utter BASTARD of Lust,
Everyone knows how wretched you are; how you force your twisted urges on students that can't fight back;
How you make others take the fall for your rapacious wickedness;
That is why we shall steal your distorted desires, and make you confess your sins!
This will be done tomorrow; so prepare yourself, False King of Shujin!
Sincerely,
The Phantom Thieves of Hearts
xx
Admittedly, with the benefit of hindsight, Akira had spruced up some of Ryuji's language to make it less...juvenile. (Alas, the blond had been insistent on the 'bastard of lust' title, and he hadn't found it in himself to disagree.)
Ryuji had managed to place them up before classes had begun...but it had taken until the end of homeroom for rumors to spread about the crimson calling cards tacked upon the bulletin board.
And hoo boy, Kamoshida's reaction upon seeing those words was something fierce. "Who's responsible for this nonsense?!" he demanded, throwing out accusations left and right. As students scattered, and Kawakami-sensei tried to calm him down, the teacher's gaze impulsively turned towards Akira. "It was you, wasn't it?!"
Akira, uncaring for the stares of all the other students nearby, simply remarked, "I didn't put them up."
Kamoshida snarled, his face turning red with anger. "Tch. You'll be dealt with soon enough...mark my words."
xx
Inwardly, within the cognitive realm, the Shadow titled King Kamoshida snorted. "Come! Steal it if you can, peasants!"
xx
As Kamoshida stormed off, Kawakami-sensei sagged. "We'll have that conversation at the guidance office later...just please don't make any more trouble..."
"I won't make any trouble for you, Kawakami-sensei." Akira meant every word, too. One thing at a time.
xx
Further down the hall, Ryuji snickered at the fallout. "Nice. It'll all be over after today."
xx
Down a separate hall, Shiho Suzui wondered at what this whole business meant. "...we should get back to classes, Ann..."
Ann, looking at the calling cards from beneath her hoodie, slowly turned to make her way back to Class 2-D.
(The words on those cards...they called to her.)
(It was like a fire, slowly kindled and fed...)
(How much more could she take, until it became a roaring inferno...?)
(And...why did it seem like Sakamoto and the transfer student had something to do with it...?)
xxxx
The rumors that day were wild and rampant. Amidst the typical ones regarding Akira and Ann, Kamoshida was in the mix now as well...and now that there was a socially acceptable outlet, students were just a little more daring to speak of the things that everyone knew about Shujin Academy's supposed star.
(It would be like a vicious plant with thorns, slowly growing and squeezing the life out of Kamoshida's proverbial heart. The paranoia would only ensure the manifestation of his Treasure...)
All the while, Akira occasionally glanced at Ann's back, wondering how she felt about all of this. Sorry we couldn't wait to get you involved...but we'll get justice for you and everyone else.
xxxx
The school day came to an end, and the rumors had yet to abate.
Akira and Ryuji met at their usual spot in the alleyway; Morgana, head poking out of Akira's bag, said, "We've only got one shot. Let's do this!"
Ryuji smirked, punching his fist into his palm. "One shot's all we need!"
Akira, thumb placed on the Metaverse Navigator app, nodded. "Let's go." Thus did they enter Kamoshida's Palace for the last time.
(Little did they know, that a certain blonde had quietly followed them.)
(Little did they know, that sheer curiosity had finally broken through the vicious prison of anguish and self-loathing that she had built around herself.)
(Little did they know, that Kamoshida's latest victim had envied the strange freedom that animated their every action, and wanted to know how they weren't choking from the unfairness of it all.)
(Little did they know, that Ann Takamaki was sucked into the Metaverse with them.)
xxxx
Joker, Skull, and Mona looked up at the castle, feeling more than seeing the oppressive aura of Kamoshida's dread and paranoia. "Let's try and avoid conflict as much as we can," he said, flexing his fingers to get the blood flowing. "After all, there's no telling what will happen when we get the Treasure."
Skull grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Let's do this! We're coming for your twisted heart, Kamoshida!"
Mona brandished his saber, resting it upon his shoulders. "To the Treasure!"
The trio of Thieves bolted for their infiltration route.
(Alas, for poor Ann: had she been in a better state of mind, she would have been more open about her disbelief...and far louder about it.)
(But she could only watch as Sakamoto and the transfer student—wearing such weird and fantastical clothes!—charged forward with an unbelievable confidence.)
(So great was her trepidation, that she could only quiver with fear as knights emerged from shadowy pools, reaching for her, grabbing her-!)
(Her cries for help were muffled, and then there was only darkness.)
xxxx
"...is this normal?" asked Skull, watching as Mona practically rubbed himself all over the Treasure: a giant crown, fit for a king.
"No clue," Joker answered before calling out, "I thought it was a crown, not catnip!"
That was enough to jolt Mona out of his feverish mania. "Hey!" Coughing into his paws, he murmured, "Sorry...I seem to have lost control for a moment there..."
"And why would that happen?" wondered Skull.
Good question, mused Joker. Given that Mona was made from the hope of humanity...why would distorted desires drive him wild...? (A question for another time.) "Quick, let's grab it and go."
"Uh...it's kind of big, ain't it?" wondered Ryuji. "How are we going to carry it?"
Mona snorted. "Amateurs!" He quickly summoned Zorro, who flexed his pecs with emphasis. "Just provide balance on the sides!"
Joker smirked. "Easy enough."
xx
It wasn't easy enough, as — entering the throne room — a volleyball smacked the crown from their hands.
"That's far enough, you peasants," huffed Kamoshida's Shadow, the Treasure floating towards his hand. "You really think you can steal what's rightfully mine?"
"Was planning on it, yes," remarked Joker, looking around with a discerning eye; he could see fragments of Shadows, waiting in the proverbial wings. We're surrounded...
"But then again, I knew it would come to this: why trust lessers to take care of punks and scum? Better to do the job myself."
"What 'job'? Abusing students, you sexually-harrasin' d-bag?!" cursed Skull.
King Kamoshida snorted. "What a small mind, you have...everyone wants to be a winner. So they share in my accomplishments, and protect me for what I can provide; as such, everyone — from the lowliest slave to the dumbest vassal to yours truly — ultimately profits..." Looking off to the side with a lewd grin, he added, "And so those who earn my favor rise with me...isn't that right, my queen?"
To Joker's shock and hidden disbelief, Kamoshida's cognition of Ann emerged from the darkness...except she was not clad in the cat ears and two-piece bikini that he remembered. Rather, she now wore a luxurious cloak and a one-piece swimsuit that was somehow more revealing than the bikini had been. A tiny little tiara of silver sat on her head, denoting her 'royal' status. "Like, for sure!" the cognition giggled.
"The hell? What's Takamaki doing here?!" exclaimed Skull.
Mona frowned. "That must be his cognition of her...what a creep, to think of a lady like that!"
So I guess it wasn't just the presence of cat ears that made him go gaga last time, mused Joker.
With a groping hand around her waist, Kamoshida roughly dragged the cognition against his chest. "Even after playing 'hard to get', she finally saw the light...and so long as she's able to satisfy a winner, I'll make sure she gets treated like royalty!" Looking over his shoulder. "Isn't that right?"
A spotlight shined down onto a diagonal cross, from which another blonde was hanging: bound at the wrists and ankles, her eyes were wide with disbelief. "Is...this...a nightmare...?"
Joker's blood went cold. No. Did she follow us?!
"TAKAMAKI!" roared Skull. "LET HER GO, YOU BASTARD!"
Two knightly Shadows manifested beside Ann, aiming swords at her form. "Careful now," said Kamoshida's Shadow, his yellow eyes gleaming with malice. "She came all this way just to see her rightful King dispose of you...and I'll make sure to give her a good show." To emphasize his point, he bent down, nibbling at the neck of his cognition of Ann.
"Oh, stop, you perv~" giggled the false queen.
(Ann's eyes quivered, even as a spark of utter revulsion escaped.)
"You bastard," snarled Ryuji, his hackles rising. "Is this all you are?! Just some psycho obsessed with forcing himself on everyone!?"
"More like a demon," growled Joker.
At this, Kamoshida's Shadow — surging with a red and black aura — chuckled, taking hold of his Treasure and Ann's cognition with both hands. "A bastard? A demon? Sure...but more importantly, this is the world of my desires! I'm the ruler!" Surging into a grotesque mockery of himself — Asmodeus: a slobbering demon with a long tongue, four arms, and a ram's horns; a nude humanoid that was somehow both muscular and fat, slovenly vicious; a degenerate lost to his urges, his eyes lazily darting about; his queen, swimming daintily within a wine glass; the victims of his urges, reduced to female body parts writhing within a chalice — Kamoshida's Shadow roared, "AND I'M ALLOWED TO DO WHATEVER THE HELL I WANT!"
Joker scowled, looking over towards where Ann was trapped. "Don't give in, Takamaki-san! We'll save you!"
"Here he comes!" yelled Mona, as Asmodeus Kamoshida surged forward with knife, fork, scepter, and wine glass.
xx
(Ann didn't know what to make of the bizarre spectacle in front of her. The school had become a castle: a sick and twisted mockery of how Kamoshida viewed the world.)
(All she knew was that, for the first time, Kamoshida looked the part of the monster he had become in her mind.)
(And if the monster cat was right...that dainty airhead was how Kamoshida viewed her.)
(No thought for the agony she had endured to protect Shiho; no consideration of how much she had dreaded coming to see him.)
(Nothing more...than an outlet for his foul urges...)
(Nothing more...than a mere toy...)
"And you've had quite enough of that, haven't you?"
(Her blood felt like it was boiling; she writhed within her binds, trying to move with utmost desperation...!)
"It's been long enough...sacrificing yourself at the altar of his desires...letting yourself be a mere slave to his whims..."
(The fire within her soul...)
"The other you that dwells within has been screaming about this unjust fate..."
(...it wanted to burn...)
"Will you be satisfied, letting others take vengeance on your behalf...?"
("...no...")
"Then we can finally forge a contract. For I am thou...and thou art I...!"
("...I hear you loud and clear...")
"Very good. Restraining yourself has done you little good..."
(As her eyes gleamed yellow, a feline mask manifested over her face. "...Carmen...")
"...remember this painful lesson, and I will gladly lend you my strength!"
xxxx
Joker was unaware of every bit of Ann's inner monologue, so focused was he on trying to dodge the storm of soccer balls from Asmodeus Kamoshida's minions.
But when a pillar of blue fire erupted from behind the massive Shadow, it caught everyone's attention. "WHAT IS THIS?!"
"What the...Takamaki...?" murmured Skull with shock.
"She's awoken to a Persona too?" wondered Mona with surprise.
The Persona—the voluptuous brunette Carmen: smoking a cigar, clad in a black and red ball gown with two lovestruck minions bound to her belt of roses by thorny vines—and Ann—clad in a blazing red catsuit, with thigh-high boots colored a darker shade, pink gloves, and a leather whip in hand—were as Joker remembered. Tellingly, their outfits still had a cutout for cleavage: a sign that, for however much Ann had been harmed by Kamoshida this time around, her will of rebellion still manifested an intention to own the beauty that was hers, in defiance of what anyone else wanted.
King Kamoshida, naturally, didn't get the memo. "WELL, WELL, CAN'T SAY I DON'T APPRECIATE THE VIEW-"
"Shut up!" yelled Ann, interrupting the Shadow on the spot. "I've had enough of how you view everyone as your plaything...how you treat girls as cheap toys...how you thought you could take whatever you wanted from me..." With a vicious snarl, twin orbs of fire manifested in Carmen's hands. "...so now it's your turn! I will rob you of everything!"
Some things change, yet some things stay the same, thought Joker, nonetheless glad that Panther (not yet named, he would have to be careful not to slip...) was still around. I wish life would just pick one...
Asmodeus Kamoshida scoffed. "SO YOU'RE CONTENT WITH BEING A MERE SLAVE INSTEAD OF A QUEEN? THEN I MIGHT AS WELL KILL YOU AND BE DONE WITH IT!"
And then the battle was joined. From that point on, the conflict went about as Joker remembered: he and Mona coordinated to ensure everyone was healed up and buffed up, while Skull and Not-Yet-Named-Panther focused on offense. (Ann, especially so: it seemed that she was especially invigorated by her recent awakening, for she moved as a living pyre.)
Down went the chalice full of girls, to Asmodeus Kamoshida's chagrin. Away went the masked slaves, their chains cut loose.
Even Kamoshida's 'Gold Medal Spike' was successfully defended; thanks to Takemi's medicine, they were able to heal up while conserving energy to attack.
However, the Shadow wasn't going to make it easy on them. (A Persona like Michael or Vishnu would have been really useful right now, if only to dominate the perverted lech...)
Kamoshida's Shadow cursed, sending away his cognition of Mishima—a worn-down servant, his school uniform ragged and torn—with fury. "SEND OUT THE NEXT SLAVE! BRING ME A NEW BALL!"
Out came his cognition of Shiho Suzui, wearing a revealing costume that wouldn't have been out of place on a female love interest from a classic sci-fi show. "Y-Your ball is ready, Kamoshida-sama," weakly cried the scantily-clad cognition.
Ann's eyes went wide with shock. "Shiho-?"
"It's just his cognition of her! It's how he thinks of her!" interrupted Ryuji, his Persona parrying Kamoshida's giant fork.
This seemed to set Ann off even more.
Mona scowled, dodging the strikes from the golden knife. "We need to get the Treasure off of his head!"
Ann, lips curled with disgust, turned towards Joker. "Toss me!"
Joker had no clue what she was planning; however, he trusted her (even if he didn't know 'this' her). Thus did he switch to Angel, who took hold of Ann's arm and took flight.
"TIME TO WIN THE GOLD," gloated Asmodeus Kamoshida, ready to spike the ball once more-
"The only thing you deserve to win is last place!" cried Ann; as Angel tossed her into the air, she lashed out with her whip, its end wrapping around one of the crown's golden arches. As Ann swung down, momentum took care of the rest, as the crown spilled onto the ground.
Asmodeus Kamoshida snarled, writhing in apparent agony. "NO! MY PRECIOUS!" With a desperate gasp, he raised his wine glass. "I'VE STILL GOT A QUEEN; I'M STILL A WINNER! SO LONG AS I WIN, I CAN ALWAYS GET MY CROWN BACK!" With gusto, he downed the whole glass, uncaring for the fact that he devoured Ann's cognition in the process. A fiery red aura swirled around him, and his strength rose and rose. "RAAAAAAAAGH!"
Okay, enough of this! "Everyone, form up!" ordered Joker, switching to Arsène. "Attack at the same time!" His tone brooked no argument.
Four Personas formed up, and the quartet of Phantom Thieves roared in defiance; bolts of darkness, lightning, fire, and wind rushed forth, blasting into the monster's torso simultaneously.
A horrid cry escaped from the Shadow's throat, his attacked snuffed out before it could even begin: wailing, the Palace Ruler returned to his normal size.
"...is that it?" wondered Skull.
"He has no more power to fight," said Mona, walking over towards the Treasure...only to balk as Kamoshida's Shadow scampered, scooping it up with a terrified grimace. "Hey!"
"There's nowhere for him to run," said Joker, already moving to preemptively block Kamoshida's path. The Shadow impulsively went for the window, only to balk at how high up they were. "That's the view you drove Takamaki-san to face, you know? It's terrifying, isn't it?"
"Damn it...I was a gold medalist! Everyone listened to me! Everyone did what I asked! Is a little reward for my efforts too much to ask?!" whined the whimpering Shadow. "Nobody told me to stop! Everyone turned a blind eye! What was I supposed to do?!"
"...this...is Kamoshida, isn't it?" wondered Ann aloud, her tone sounding hollow. "If he were to die here...would the same thing happen in the real world...?"
Joker didn't want to say the truth (if only because he was finding it difficult to spare Kamoshida, but he knew they should). Before he could speak up, Mona said, "If we take his Treasure, then his desires will be stolen. He'll be left with a guilty conscience, for sure...but if you destroy his Shadow, his mind will shut down in reality." Crossing his arms, the monster cat said, "In the end, it's your call."
Ann stepped forward, her mask vanishing from her face. Behind her, Carmen's hands burned with fire. "That desperation you feel...it's awful, isn't it? It's suffocating...almost makes you want to die, doesn't it...?"
Kamoshida's Shadow whimpered with genuine fear. "No, please! I beg you, forgive me! I'm sorry...!"
Ann scowled. "Shut up. You went on about how much better than everyone else you were, as though your presence was some gift to society...no matter how much people told you to stop...no matter how much I told you to stop...but you just kept on taking, and taking, and taking!" Carmen unleashed one blast of fire; the Shadow cowered, even as it exploded against the wall. "Was it worth it?!" Stepping up towards Kamoshida, she ripped the crown from his hands, gripping the collar of his cloak and screaming in his face. "Was it?!"
"Takamaki-!" yelled Skull, moving to intervene; Joker stuck out his arm, holding him in place. "Dude, what-?"
"Let her have this."
"But what if she kills him?"
"She won't."
Skull marveled at his conviction. "...dude, how can you be sure-?"
"...just trusting my gut," he said. How much has truly changed? Even if she suffered more than last time...is the core of her person the same? I have to know...whatever the consequences may be...
"...you might as well finish me off," moaned Kamoshida, sinking to his knees. "I'm through...losers don't deserve to live...only winners...and you've won..."
Ann looked down upon Kamoshida; from the side, Joker could she her bared teeth, as though she were truly struggling to make a decision. Finally, to their surprise, she loosed a harrowing cry, screaming at the heavens; in conjunction with this, Carmen shot the last fireball towards the empty throne, incinerating it in a column of flame. "...I wanted revenge so badly..." With great effort, she turned away, Treasure in hand. "...but I'm not the only one who suffered because of you...and if I were the only one who got payback..." Her mask flashed back into existence. "...it wouldn't be fair to Shiho...or to anyone else you've hurt..."
Joker felt his heart swell with pride and affection for the young lady, whose heart still carried such strength within. "You hear that Kamoshida?" he called out. "The Phantom Thieves have taken your heart, just like we promised!" With a dramatic flourish, he pointed his finger at the Shadow. "Now: atone for your sins, and confess your crimes with your own mouth!"
Kamoshida's Shadow finally gave up the proverbial ghost, returning to his real self.
Then the Palace started collapsing, and there was no time to do anything but run.
"So...tired..." murmured Ann, the fatigue from her Persona's Awakening finally catching up.
"Damn it, this is a really effin' bad time!" exclaimed Skull.
Joker snapped his fingers. "I've got it. Come, Eligor!" He summoned the horned knight and his mighty steed, their forms towering over them. "Mona, on the head! Skull, in front! Takamaki, with me!" Mona hopped upon the horse's head, while Skull scampered in front of the armored knight; Joker jumped on behind Eligor and hauled Ann up with one arm, having her sit crossways across his lap. With one arm around her torso and another arm around Eligor's, he yelled, "Get us out of here!"
Eligor huffed, accepting the task as the horse neighed.
(There was no time to focus on the Castle collapsing; he needed to make sure his Persona maintained itself...)
(Do you have the mental fortitude to last...?)
This body may be young...but my mind is sharp as ever, he swore to himself. My friends did their part...so I have to do mine!
Onward they rode through the falling castle, reaching for the light.
xxxx
"The destination has been deleted," happily chirped the Metaverse Navigator.
The trio of students sagged against the walls of the alleyway outside Shujin Academy, whilst Morgana calmly groomed himself.
"...ugh...that was awful," groaned Ryuji, glaring daggers at Morgana. "You couldn't have warned us about that, you stupid cat?!"
"Well, how was I supposed to know that stealing his desires was going to cause such a dramatic reaction?!" retorted Morgana.
Ryuji boggled. "...wait, were you winging it the whole time?!"
"Enough about that," said Akira, pulling out a gold medal. "Looks like this was his Treasure...the source of his desires..." Stuffing it into his bookbag, he asked, "You okay, Takamaki-san?"
Ann, her butt still resting on the ground, shook her head. "I just feel...tired, is all..." Looking up with a pensive expression, she asked, "That world...and our outfits...what was that all about...?"
"It's kind of a long story," murmured Ryuji, kicking at the ground.
"And it's a secret, in case you weren't aware," cautioned Akira. "But we can talk all about it later, once we've recovered." Holding up his phone, he asked, "Mind trading numbers?"
Shortly after Akira and Ryuji traded numbers with Ann, none other than Shiho Suzui wandered by the alleyway. "There you are!" she exclaimed, looking at Akira and Ryuji with trepidation before kneeling down beside Ann. "I've been trying to text you, and you weren't answering..."
"...sorry, Shiho," Ann murmured.
Shiho looked up, demanding an explanation as to her current condition without a word. "We had a rather intense run-in with Kamoshida after classes ended," explained Akira. (Technically correct.) "We've been keeping an eye out while she tried to catch her breath."
Ann's friend paled. "Did he-?"
"We made sure he didn't touch her," growled Ryuji. (Also technically correct, to an extent.)
Shiho looked towards the blonde for confirmation. "It's true...they both helped a lot..." Ann grimaced woozily as Shiho helped her to her feet. "We'll talk later...but thank you. Thank you both."
Ryuji looked away, scratching nervously at the back of his head. Akira opted for a joke to ease the tension. "Well, us targets of wanton rumors have to stick together, right?" He shot a playful wink at Shiho. "Even if a rather wise lady advised us to ignore them."
Shiho blinked, recalling their brief conversation from last Thursday. "...thank you," she said, opting for polite discretion.
As Ryuji watched the two girls walk away, he asked, "Man, I feel antsy...how do we know it worked...?"
"It had to work," vowed Morgana as he hopped into Akira's bag.
"We have no choice but to wait," said Akira, looking down at his phone. "So...wanna grab a beef bowl before calling it a night?"
Ryuji frowned. "...you promise not to steal my egg again?"
Akira adjusted his glasses. "You promise not to give me extra ginger without asking?"
The two stared intently at each other...only to laugh at the sheer inanity of it all.
(Victory was quite the heady tonic.)
xxxx
Day: April 18th, 2016
Today was a pretty good day.
Made friends with another blonde. Girl this time. Now I've got Blond and Blondie. Double Blond. Fake Blond and Real Blonde.
Also managed to get a nice haul by selling some shiny junk I found around the city streets. (It's amazing what people will throw away...)
"Should you really be alluding to the money you got selling the Treasure to that Iwai guy?" complained Morgana, unknowable by anyone but Akira.
"Plausible deniability," he explained without elaborating.
xxxx
/Tuesday: April 19, 2016/
Akira quietly endured Kawakami's 'interrogation' with regards to his interactions with Kamoshida. Only the fact that no one else was in the guidance office prompted him to be upfront. "Did he tell you to do this?"
Kawakami sighed. "Well...he was rather irritable yesterday...and he implied something about all the rumors going around-"
"Those rumors don't mean a thing. Takamaki-san would say the same thing." Tilting his head, he added, "And being a teacher...you'd know all about how much false rumors can hurt, right?"
"W-What are you implying?" she retorted.
I'll get to your situation eventually, Kawakami-sensei. "...is he still on your case?"
"...well, don't tell anyone, but he actually called in this morning. He sounded...odd..."
Things are still on track, thought Akira, repressing the urge to grin.
"...also, you didn't make a pass at Yoshizawa-san, did you?"
Akira blinked. "Who?" Oh, wait. "You mean the redhead from yesterday? No. Why would I?" he honestly asked.
Kawakami didn't seem convinced. "...just try and stay out of trouble, okay...?"
Ah, the curse of being the Troublesome Delinquent™...
xxxx
Day: April 19th, 2016
The perverted teacher wasn't around, so I had some peace today.
Also hung out with Ryuji after school. He wants to try and get back in shape after being away from the Track Team for so long.
I think I'll help him out.
xxxx
/Wednesday: April 20, 2016/
"Pay attention!" roared the social studies teacher.
Max Proficiency!
Akira casually dodged the chalk missile from Ushimaru-sensei, much to the shock and awe of his classmates.
"Wow, impressive," whispered Morgana from within his desk.
Akira blinked. What did I do?
xxxxx
Day: April 20th, 2016
Apparently, I dodged the chalk from 'One-Shot' Ushimaru without even thinking about it.
Thought experiment: Does muscle memory work with time travel or reincarnation?
Maybe I'll ask the talking cat about it...
xxxx
/Thursday: April 21, 2016/
At Tae Takemi's clinic, Akira stared tiredly at the arrogant police officer that was harassing Tae Takemi over his presence. Blast it all, I'm too tired from testing her medicine...
"-if you want to investigate me, you need to show me a warrant," curtly said Takemi.
Akira quietly leaned forward, placing both hands over his mouth in a manner evoking nausea. So annoying...
After a back-and-forth over medical expenses and 'alleged improper billing' (which was of course fake), the officer looked at Akira with skepticism. "You don't seem to be sick," he growled. "Are you up to something illegal!?"
Suddenly, without warning, Akira audibly spewed stomach bile and the remains of his lunch all over the officer's shoes.
Takemi, to her credit, merely arched an eyebrow as the officer leapt back with disgust. "I think that says enough, don't you?"
As the officer beat a swift retreat after some halfhearted warnings, Takemi stood up to get some cleaning supplies for the impromptu biohazard. "Well, I suppose I'll have to refine the formula if it caused you to have latent nausea..." she muttered, grabbing for a packet of disposable medical gloves.
"Nah, you don't need to." He held up his right index finger, which was covered in saliva. "I triggered my gag reflex."
Takemi stared with genuine disbelief. "...my my. I've found one gutsy Guinea Pig, haven't I? In that case..." She tossed the gloves at him. "You can clean up your mess."
Akira sighed. "If you insist..."
xxxx
Day: April 21st, 2016
So, I threw up in at the nearby clinic today. That was fun. Sarcasm fully intended.
Apparently, I had such a lingering stink that Sojiro ordered me to the bathhouse right across the street to clean off.
At least the rain today kept most of the crowds away...
xxxx
/Friday: April 22, 2016/
That night — fresh off of his first coffee lessons with Sojiro Sakura (progress was progress!) — in the midst of making tools under Morgana's supervision, Akira received a text in the group chat comprised of himself, Ryuji, and Ann.
Ann: Kamoshida left me a voicemail tonight...
Ryuji: fr?!
Akira: What did he say?
Ann: He...he apologized for everything...
Ryuji: seriously!?
Ryuji: so the change of heart worked!
Ann: I...
Ann: I just don't know
Ann: It doesn't feel as satisfying as I thought it would.
Akira: He still needs to confess all of his crimes, right?
Akira: Hopefully it'll be soon.
Ryuji: let's hope!
Ann: yeah...
"...got an interesting feeling about tomorrow, Morgana," murmured Akira as he put away his third lockpick. I really need to remember the materials for making a Perma-Pick...
The cat, glancing over at Akira's phone, nodded with agreement. "Yeah...I think I do, too..."
xx
Day: April 22nd, 2016
Random thought of the night: who's paying for my cell phone data plan?
I've legitimately forgotten...
I should distract myself with coffee practice. (It's really hard pretending to be a novice...)
xxxx
/Saturday: April 23, 2016/
That day, Suguru Kamoshida returned to Shujin Academy.
Nobody questioned him when he requested a special session for the entire school to be held that afternoon in the gymnasium, right before the last homeroom period.
Most people expected it to be in relation to the upcoming summer tournaments.
They did not expect Kamoshida to get down on his knees, holding a coach's bullhorn, and begin confessing his crimes. "-verbally abusing students; physically abusing the athletes under my care...sexually harassing female students. In return for giving Suzui-san a position on my team, I forced Takamaki-san into having relations with me...I am the reason she attempted to kill herself...and I tried to frame another student for my crime, in the hopes of expelling him..." On and on, went his self-debasement, as he described how he had abused his authority, and acted in a way unbecoming of a teacher. "What I've done is shameful...and I will take responsibility for what I've done by resigning from my position as an instructor, turning myself into the police, and confessing all of my crimes..."
It was a raw display of contrition that unleashed pandemonium. The Shujin faculty—Principal Kobayakawa above all—tried to pull Kamoshida away, to have him 'see reason'; the students, however, were gossiping up a storm: about the abuse, about the rumors (both true and false), about the calling card, about the Phantom Thieves, and more.
"...wow," murmured Ryuji, hanging out near the back of the gym. "It actually happened..."
Akira briefly glanced over at where Ann was standing, trying to gauge her reaction. Kamoshida didn't threaten to kill himself, this time...but how will things change because of it? He noticed the looks of pity being sent Ann's way; would the fact Kamoshida had actually forced himself on Ann result in — paradoxically enough — less pity from the students for her plight? It had been so many decades since this time period that he had no way of knowing how the social dynamics would play out. "Good," he murmured. "Now maybe things will change for the better..." He noticed Shiho approach Ann; the former looked downright mortified and ashamed. He couldn't quite tell what was being said...but it couldn't have been good, based on how Shiho took off running. Huh?
Ryuji hissed under his breath as Ann tried to follow her. "Can't exactly blame her; she just found out her best friend let that bastard put his hands all over her...for her sake."
...oh. That's definitely different. The Last Time Around™, Shiho had been in the hospital. This time, she had been present to hear the awful truth directly from Kamoshida. Shit.
"Well, we accomplished some good at least," chimed in Mona from his book bag.
"...yeah," murmured Akira. Some things changed, some things stayed the same...
(He had no way of knowing what was going on in the hearts of others...)
xx
(Shiho ran, her heart aching from Kamoshida's revelations.)
(Ann had let herself be abused for her sake.)
(Her position on the volleyball team had been owed to that abuse.)
(All of her bruises, all of the harassment...it hadn't meant a thing.)
(You thought you were at least good at volleyball...that you were able to have pride in that...)
(Now you don't even have that. You were never good enough; Kamoshida used you to get to Ann.)
(Ann nearly killed herself because of you.)
(It was your fault...)
xx
(Mishima's heart shuddered with fright during the course of Kamoshida's confession.)
(He had not been a target of the rumors; he had not found himself in the same bucket as Sakamato and the transfer student.)
(As such, he didn't feel a sense of liberation; only a dawning terror.)
(You leaked the transfer student's criminal records; you served as Kamoshida's gofer for so long...)
(You're nothing but scum. The Phantom Thieves will probably try to change your heart, now.)
(You can't let them find out about you...)
(You have to turn their attention away from you...)
xxxx
When Joker awoke within the Velvet Room, Yaldabaoth chuckled knowingly. "And so the first domino falls; you still have your allies from last time...and yet things feel different, don't they?"
"...I get it," he huffed, sitting down in the folding chair. "Things have changed as much as they've stayed the same. But I'm acting in the way that I feel is right: that much hasn't changed."
Fake Igor grinned. "Your devotion to your rehabilitation remains as strong as ever...yet will you encounter a change that you find to be too much to bear? Will you remain as a Trickster in all things? Or will there be an ordeal which is too great to overcome?"
"...we can only wait and see," vowed Joker.
The interloper's dark laughter did not reassure him at all.
xxxx
TO BE CONTINUED
xxxx
Author's Note: As you can see, it's not just a straight retelling of Persona 5 Royal. (And Joker isn't necessarily trying to go out of his way to do things differently, either!)
That's probably why it feels so much fun to write...
