Persona 5: Daywatch

Friday, 13 May 2016
Afternoon
Shujin, Courtyard

Ann fell behind in the trot out of the gym, as students filed out to return to their classes. A warm breeze blew, but that didn't stop the transfer student from slipping his hands in his pockets as he strode shoulder-to-shoulder with the runner.

Ryuji stopped and leaned against the railing. "Bad enough Shujin's interruptin' midterms for it. You guys seriously 'xpect this dump to give a shit about our mental health?"

Before she could say it sounded like a good idea, Akira leaned against the railing next to the runner with a dubious snort. "The higher-ups don't give a fuck. They didn't do shit when Shiho went over the edge, they waited until it hit headlines and cops started showing up on-campus. This is classic bureaucratic ass-covering."

She started to reach a hand for him before deciding she didn't like how automatic his cynicism was. Not that she could say he was wrong, but that felt as much like her own betrayal as Shujin's. "Well, even if it's just damage control, wouldn't it look even worse if they did nothing at all? At least this is something."

Akira slipped his hands out of his pockets and brought up online shogi. "As the guy who played class clown in middle school, I feel qualified to say it's all an act and you should never trust somebody goofing it up in public. There's always an angle."

Ryuji tapped his heel against the concrete walkway. She expected him to say something like that, but the runner seemed taken aback by the forcefulness of the transfer student's statement. "Ya think so?"

"Hello," a familiar masculine voice called out from behind them. The teens turned to see the new counselor himself walking up. His eyes scanned then with that same rapid, analytical quality she saw Akira sweep over a room as he entered. He forced himself into a stiff, practiced smile like she'd expect on a new sales clerk. "Takamaki-san, Sakamoto-kun, and… you must be Kurusu-kun."

His grip on his phone tensed, jaw clenched, and hackles rose. "I go by Akira."

Maruki held up a hand as if ready to reach out, or ward off. "My apologies, Akira-san."

Ryuji turned on the counselor, his hands in his pockets but his shoulders squared. "How d'ya know our names?"

The awkward counselor brought the hand up to rub the back of his head. "I was informed of a few students who had… interactions with Kamoshida." He lowered his hand, his eyes flicking to the cell phone the transfer student kept his eyes on, despite the tense shoulders and conspicuous way he kept the counselor in his field of vision. "Things have been rough for all of you."

Akira's thumb tapped two spaces on his phone's screen. A brick wall between he and the counselor might have been more subtle.

Sensing more tension and less response from him than the others, Maruki faced the transfer student straight-on. "Things must've been particularly difficult for you, your record being unfairly leaked and one of your school-mates attempting suicide so soon after transferring here." He noticed the waver to Akira's shoulders at the oblique reference to Shiho. "Did you know Suzui-san?"

Ann didn't think it possible, but the transfer student's frame stiffened even more. A gleam sparked in those grey eyes which reminded her of Yuuki and she lifted a hand to reach out for him, but realized he'd just throw it off with the new guy there. "She was the nicest girl in Shujin, she talked a few times." She turned to the doctor and wondered whether he was as clueless as he looked or if there was something to Akira's assumption that he was probing them. "Why don't you get straight to the point?"

Maruki gave an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his head. "Well, I already offered my services to the student body, but would you three be interested in counseling?"

"Nope," Ryuji proffered without a beat of hesitation.

Shuffling back a shallow step, the counselor let out a distressed sound.

Akira rolled his eyes, but looked less like a vibrating violin string. "Please tell me you're not surprised. Shujin did fuck all but bury things until peeps outside put us in headlines."

"Th-that's very true," Maruki conceded, brow furrowing. "And I don't agree with Shujin's decision to try to make any of these sessions mandatory. I even brought that up, but both the principal and vice-principal shot down making it all voluntary no matter how much I insisted."

"Really?" Akira drawled before he turned his back on the counselor and took one step away. "Better get started on that expulsion paperwork."

Ann saw the same gasp from the others as she heard from herself.

Both of Maruki's hands came up, though he couldn't seem to decide what he wanted to do with them. "Akira-san, you – all of you – have suffered enough. I want to help you." He realized he'd started to wave his hands like a toddler and brought them down to his sides. "I understand asking you to open up to a complete stranger is a lot. You don't have to come today. All I ask is that you give it a chance. I'll do everything I can to make it a worthwhile experience." He lifted a plaintive hand at the students. "Think of it as stopping in for free snacks!" He clapped his hands, sensing he was losing his audience. "All you can eat… would be nice, but I'll make sure you have plenty."

Akira's deadpan could have flash-dried a whale, "I hear unmarked vans make the same offer to 'the evaporated'."

Even Ryuji flinched at that. "Dude, there's bein' skeptical, an' goin' too far."

To his credit, Maruki recovered from the metaphorical gut-punch and pasted on a practiced smile. "Oh! If you attend counseling sessions, I'll teach you different ways to improve mental acuity."

Akira lifted his phone and resumed his online shogi. "I'm already familiar with the family home memory technique."

"Huh?" Ann let out.

Akira tapped his phone. "It's a technique for memorizing large volumes of detailed information and recalling the information accurately long after. The Office of Special Services taught it to spies in the Second World War, and Public Security acquired it with espionage training during the cold war."

Maruki gave an impressed chuckle. "That's very impressive, Ku—Akira-kun. I didn't even know where it came from. But there are more things I can teach, like ways to hone concentration before exams, or keep from getting nervous on dates. How's that?"

Ryuji and Ann both shifted their weight from foot to foot. The track star looked around, unwilling to be the first to break, but after a few moments turned a less energetic gaze to the counselor. "Guess it don't sound so bad."

Ann nodded. "Yeah." She looked to the transfer student with that metaphorical wall back up. "Can't hurt, right?"

All eyes fell on Akira. Long seconds ticked by before he glanced at the runner, then blonde before his jaw tensed. "I will… consider it."

Maruki let out a relieved whoosh of air, then even gave a shallow bow. "That's all I ask. Thank you."

A bell sounded and the doors to the gym burst open with the students who lingered to chat until time to return to mid-terms, now sprinting to class.

Friday, 13 May 2016
After School
Shujin, Class 2-D

Akira doodled on a sheet of scrap paper until the bell rang. He heard Ann groan, then get up to hand in her paper. Noise in the room rose as the students chattered with what energy testing hadn't sapped from them.

"Settle down," Kawakami spoke over then, her weary voice only just audible. "Before you're released, I was instructed to give an addendum to the assembly. The counselor will be with us until November. For the majority of you, counseling is optional. However, the school has decided it will be mandatory for a few students. You should already have a notice in your student email."

Akira checked his phone. Sure enough, the email he gave Shujin had a notice of required counseling.

"What do you think?" Mishima said from behind him, his eyes on his own phone.

The transfer student's phone buzzed in his hands and he opened the waiting Phantom Thief chat. Ryuji's ID blinked at the top. [Akira's right. Fork them forcing us to do this.]

[You said you'd do it,] Ann texted. [What about you, Yuu-kun?]

[I'll go after midterms,] the class representative replied. A beat later, he added, [What about you, Akira? You could talk about those things you talked to me about.]

He wasted no time to text, [It will be a cold day in hell before somebody forces me into another shrink's couch.]

Three dots bounced next to Ryuji's ID for a moment. [What about shrink-wrapped couches?]

[My old bastard's a shrink, Ryuji. Neuropsychologist is just a fancier title for the same thing.]

Three dots winked in next to Ann's ID, then disappeared. A moment later she texted, [The school's got their eyes on us.]

Mishima texted, [She's right. Cops were still interviewing students and faculty this weekend. And if you guys are going to take down either the drug or fraud rings, you can't afford to be caught nosing into them.]

[I'll go first,] Ann sent. [Might as well find out what it's about and get it over with sooner rather than later. What are you going to do?]

[I'll think about it,] Ryuji texted.

Mishima gave a quiet, pained groan behind the transfer student. [My parents have been asking about my class ranking. I think I better hit the library again today.]

Akira texted, [I want somewhere quieter. I'll be studying in the diner in Shibuya.]

Friday, 13 May 2016
After School
Shibuya Diner

Akira scribbled down the final calculation and checked the derivative against the original equation. Seventeen on one side, minus eleven on the other. He dropped his mechanical pencil on the math book and let himself fall forehead-first onto his practice for tomorrow's math midterm exam, glasses pressing against his face. "Math was invented to make people unhappy."

Alliance Force, Assemble! sang out of his phone, so he pulled himself up off the table covered with books and papers. Akira slipped his phone out, glancing at 'Doc' on the ID. "No job too small, no fee too large. Scoundrels for hire, this is Hugo First."

"You certainly lose none of your wit over the phone," Takemi snapped. Something thumped on corrugated cardboard. "It's Masa. Be here, but don't be seen." She cut the call, and seconds later sent a text with an address and time.

"Hm. I think Doc's calling for overwatch." Akira paused, hand in the bag, fingertips against the cloth-covered cardboard serving as a false bottom. Brandishing a sub-machine gun should be enough to surprise any street gangers dumb enough not to question how a school-age kid would get one. Add his emergency change of clothes lacking any identifying traits and he might be able to pass himself off as a young hired gun.

Morgana's ears curled back as he watched Akira pack up. "Joker, much as I hate to point this out, what can we do in the real world? Masa is a gangster – a real one. We've got the advantage in the Metaverse, but he's got the home field advantage in the real world. You said it to Ryuji. You're no yakuza."

"I can't just abandon someone when the walls are closing in on her," he ground out. "I am not letting another Tosa Kotomi happen." Checking his map, the commercial-district back lot didn't seem special. While quite a few buildings rose up around the lot, none had convenient access for overwatch. A single narrow lane led to the delivery truck access on a major road where it would be simple enough to blend in with traffic. This late in the evening, the sky darkened, leaving the almost-abandoned parking lot bathed in shadows.

Glad he had the chance to change out of his Shujin uniform, Akira found few places to get a vantage point that also left him close enough to jump into a situation. He ended up climbing on top of a once-white, boxy delivery van and readied his sub-machine gun if he needed to make a threat, then his phone to get what pictures he could. After a short wait, a brown sedan pulled into the nigh-empty parking lot.

It pulled in front of a rusted door marked 'Staff', and a man with a leopard-print shirt and pants with loose leggings stepped out. He reached in to take a sheathed knife at least twelve centimeters long and slipped it into his pocket. With only one parking lot light working he had trouble making out the man in dark clothes, but recognized Masa's voice as soon as he snapped into the vehicle, "Just stay with the car, man. Let me handle the business."

After slamming the car door closed, he paced to the tall pole the sole working light jutted out from, dropped a brown paper sack at its base, then drew and lit a cigarette. He smoked through that and lit a second before a motorcycle squealed into the parking lot.

Pulling to a stop on the opposite side of the working light pole, the motorcyclist kicked down the stand, dismounted, then slipped off the sleek, black helmet. She shook her short, dark hair before setting the helmet on the seat. She knelt down next to the rigid storage unit bolted over the rear wheel and pulled out a white plastic case just like the one Takemi handed over at the last drug exchange. With her leather riding slacks and jacket, he hardly recognized the doctor.

Pacing closer, she stopped just a couple steps inside the circle of light. Takemi hesitated for a moment before calling out, "It seems a shame for partners in business to go by such distant relations."

Masa flicked his cigarette away. "The fuck do you care? You never wanted to be in these little… transactions."

Takemi set the plastic case of drugs onto the cracked concrete pavement at her feet. She crossed her arms over her leather jacket. "Fine. Then hand over the payment."

Masa slipped his hand into his pocket. "An' if I want those pills first?"

Takemi glared. "I have expenses to pay, so you know I'll hand over my share. After trying to stiff me last month, I'm sure even you can understand why I need to count first."

His lip curled up, but Masa bent down to take the paper bag and tossed it at her.

She opened it, counted, then used her foot to tip over the plastic case and send it skidding over the cracked concrete to Masa. He picked it up, weighed it with his hands for a thoughtful moment, then said, "The head honcho is uppin' quotas. You better be ready to bring more product when I call in a couple weeks."

Takemi went stiff, but anger pushed its way to the fore. "Do you have any idea how many hoops I have to jump through to get you that much amphetamine? Any more and I'll have district investigators poking their noses around."

"Figure it out," Masa bit out. He held two fingers to his forehead. "You're s'posed to be like a smart person." He turned around and popped into the dark-colored sedan, which drove away without fanfare.

Desperate to move his limbs again, Akira slid to the edge of his abandoned delivery truck and dropped down. "On the plus side, he had a knife but didn't try anything. Is this what he does every time?"

Takemi paced back to her motorcycle and picked up the helmet but just pressed her hands against it. "He's always done it up in Shibuya before. Every time. Something's got to be changing for him to make it here in Minato-ku." Her leather gloves squeaked as they pressed down on the plastic motorbike helm. "I thought they didn't have anywhere else to go before." She sighed and loosened her hands. "You're as good as your cat at sneaking around, but if Masa makes a move… what can you do?"

Morgana slunk out of the darkness under the delivery truck. "Tell her I'm not your cat." His blue eyes scanned the doctor decked in leather from neck to toe. "Though… she's trapped by her situation just like you were with that horrible drunk and the police."

"Don't underestimate me." Akira held up his sub-machine gun so she could see it before he started unscrewing the fake silencer on the faux gun. "Just make sure he has no reason to suspect anything is different on your end."

Takemi set her helm on the seat, saying nothing for several seconds before she leaned forward to brace against it for several long breaths. Anger and defeat resonated in her pose. "Can I make this right even if I succeed in curing Miwa-chan?"

Letting a moment pass, Akira sat down on the plastic basket bolted to the back of the motorcycle. He looked into her bright brown eyes, but she stared down onto the seat. "Tell me, Doc. Why'd you go into medicine?"

She sucked in a long breath before her eyes drifted closed. "Miwa-chan's disease was particularly rare. There's only a few case studies—"

"I don't mean how'd you get from medicine to here. I mean what got you into medicine? You're a general practitioner, right?" Akira slipped his hands into his pockets. When she only gave a nod, he sighed. "Took long?"

Takemi took a deeper breath, then began as if reciting a report to a board of sleep-proof scientists, "Three years at the College of Nursing, Akaishi-cho. Three years at Jikei. Four years residency before I was accepted into research."

He leaned a little further into her field of vision. "Isn't the basic med degree four years?"

Standing up from her bike, she crossed her arms. "Yes."

Akira tapped his foot against the cracked pavement in thought, then froze and flashed her a big smile. "Well hell, that means you even started out at the head of your class. Three years to everyone else's four."

Takemi let out a little chuff, but her posture relaxed. "I was already studying medicine, so it's not that impressive. Not a whole lot to do when you're a sickly girl spending months each year at a hospital."

Akira gave a theatrical sigh. "Give yourself some credit, Doc." He tapped one foot on the pavement before reigning in the tic. "Does it get any easier? Medicine?"

She sat down on her motorcycle seat, looking aside at him. "It does, actually. There's always a new study, but there's also only so many things you're going to see frequently."

Looking through the photos he surreptitiously took of the exchange, Akira zoomed in on the license plate of Masa's car. Assuming it even was his car could be a mistake, somebody else was in the driver's seat the whole time. "Is Leopard Print a lieutenant?"

Takemi snorted, her tension cracking at last. "I would've said definitely when I moved into Yongen, but he reaches like a guy angling for a promotion. I saw plenty of those types while I was working on residency at Jikei University Hospital." She leaned a little bit, spying the pixelated license plate on the transfer student's phone. "You're really serious about going after Masa."

Akira scrolled up a couple images of Masa smoking and thanked Mishima for showing him how to mute phone apps. "I meant it when I said we could come to a mutually equitable arrangement. And so I put a request in to…a friend I know." He knew they'd need to continue receiving the doctor's help. "Discretion isn't a problem, but information is."

Takemi held an inscrutable look on Akira for several long seconds. "Listen, kid. It's not that I don't appreciate the offer, but…" Her dark eyes looked to the cracked asphalt at her feet. "You're young. You've got prospects. I'm just a quack who fucked up big enough to wind up in a nowhere clinic lost in the back streets of the biggest city in the world."

Pebbles popped as he stood up, but he reigned in his anger. "I'm not some ignorant little kid. I have a conviction for assault." He turned off his phone and stuffed it in his pocket. "It's not like I'm very far from these assholes."

She gave him a side-eye. "You assaulted someone?" Takemi huffed. "I don't see you being that half-hearted."

He blinked, then stumbled a step back. "Half-hearted?"

Takemi picked up her bike helmet by the chin brace. "You're not as guarded as you think you are. I could believe you yelling at some dick in front of a train station. Or killing him in a back alley. But not going half-way for something like just assault."

Akira's body felt lighter. Granted, he hadn't sat down and talked about the debacle with the rich asshole who slapped him with trumped-up charges, but even they didn't quite give him such an absolution of the night that ruined his life. Would they? Every one seemed too decent to step into the dirty path his life tread. Even Ryuji wanted to be a straightforward good guy. "Well, if you know that much, you know I don't back out once I've given my word. I said I'd help you with this," he said, waving his finger in the air. "Do they have peeps following you?"

She closed her eyes. "They don't need to. I've got nowhere to go. Even with all the money I've got, I can't leave until I've cured Miwa-chan." She held her helmet in both hands.

He slipped his phone in his pocket. "You really helped us against…" He paused how to avoid saying Kamoshida. "Against a jackass who put somebody real important to me in the hospital. Do you know any other names?"

Takemi shook her head, then held an inscrutable look on Akira for several long seconds before putting her helmet on. When she spoke, her tone was flat as a windless sea, "Your girlfriend must've been real close for you and her to come to the clinic more than once." She slapped the visor closed, started the motorcycle, and peeled out.

Akira clapped his hands around his mouth. "She wasn't my girlfriend!"

A cricket chirped and he let out a long breath, brought out his phone, and stared at the license plate, wondering what he could do with it. "We're running out of time." Putting the phone away, he disassembled his sub-machine gun and slipped it into his satchel.

His phone buzzed and he brought up the group chat, where Ann texted, [I went in for counseling with Maruki.]

Ryuji's ID winked in. [How was he?]

[He was very nice. I thought it was going to be rough, especially with Kamoshida having to be part of the conversation. But instead we mostly talked about Shiho.]

Akira texted, [Must have been hard.]

[Surprisingly, no,] She replied. [Maruki was pretty easy to talk to. He didn't even seem to mind when I rambled, he was just happy when I felt confident enough to talk. No matter what about.]

Ryuji sent, [He didn't try and make you sign anything about that shirt bag Kamoshida, or an NDA?]

[Not at all. He just wanted me to be more comfortable, even after I left. You guys should go, too.]

Akira frowned. She was supposed to be the smartest, most level-headed of the Phantom Thieves. Instead she had to be taken in by that bumbling goof act. Nobody was that nice without expecting something in return. He slipped his phone in his trousers and walked back to the train station.

Saturday, 14 May 2016
Early Morning
Shibuya Station

Somebody stepping on his heel sent Akira stumbling, his shoe popping off. He swore and spun around to retrieve his shoe before it was forever lost to the morass of Shibuya. Some businesswoman in a striped pencil skirt kicked it and Akira shoved his way after it.

Against his expectations, a tall, dark-haired boy in the white jacket of some other school stood up, the shoe held by his thumb and index finger. "Ah, so you are the source of the unusual phenomena." When he offered the black street shoe, Akira snatched it and put it on.

Morgana peered out of the bag. "At least say thank you."

Akira sighed, but the team's Metaverse expert was right. Nobody would ever do it again if he never showed gratitude. "Thanks." Both boys moving on, the transfer student muttered, "I wish the old bastard passed on a useful lesson like that instead of a list of known neuro-transmitters."

Coming to the station for the train to Aoyama-Itchome, Akira spotted the distinctive bad dye job and unkempt hair of his compatriot. "Hey, Ryuji."

The track star's jaw opened and he let out a yawn without bothering to cover his mouth. "I was up all night on account of today bein' the end of exams."

Morgana popped out of Akira's bag. "Do you really expect us to believe you were up late studying?"

Ryuji turned the world's most tired glare at the guide trapped in cat form. "What's the point? When I realized exams were almost over, I played Star Ocean all night."

Akira took off his glasses before pressing the heel of his palm to his face. "It's not that I don't understand the world bein' up against you, but how're you gonna show them up by giving up?"

Ryuji shrugged, but his eyes fell away. "Not like I'm gonna blow anyone outta the water with grades here. I got the upper quarter of the class all through middle school, but now? Nothin's diff'rent if I just fail again." Ann strode out of the crowd, covering her mouth in a yawn. Something about that perked up the track star. "'Guess someone else was gamin' late last night."

The transfer student gave a small wave, getting one in response before Ann brushed at her pigtails. "Just one more day of exams. We're nearly at the finish line and I wanted to make it a good run."

Morgana nodded, pride almost smug in his voice, "That's the kind of discipline I'd expect from a Phantom Thief, Lady Ann. Way better than the organ grinder's monkey," he finished with a chin-nod at Ryuji.

The runner jammed his hands into his pockets. "Like I gotta take this kinda crap from a dinky-brained cat."

Akira nodded, his expression all serious. "Just make sure to donate your head to science when you die, Ryuji."

"Huh?"

The chuckling started slipping out even before Akira finished, "Scientists haven't found the perfect vacuum yet."

Morgana snorted with laughter, but dropped back into the bag so they could finish the trip to Shujin.

Saturday, 14 May 2016
After School
Aoyama-Itchome Station

Spotting the unkempt dyed blond hair, Akira headed for the corner of the station, glad for the consideration. Still, the noise pounded him, so he leaned back against the tiled wall and gave the group a solid, post-test greeting. "Ugh."

Ann threw her hands up in celebration. "Hand me a mike, I need to drop it! Tests are done."

"Finally," Akira blurted as if trying to get something tasting bad out of his mouth.

Ryuji stood a little straighter but left his hands in his pockets. "Tests kickin' your butt too, huh?"

Akira took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "I was thinking the entrance exam was hard, but damn. Shujin pulls no punches."

"It is a big academic school. Nobody qualifies unless they score above the national average," Ann said, tilting one head and examining him more than he felt comfortable. "You worried?"

Akira stretched out his shoulder, but couldn't feel any relief in his back. "I never had so much riding on getting good grades. My student contract has me on academic probation until after exams. If I don't just pass but also excel, I am boned. Whether or not Kobayakawa's still there next week." He glanced over at Ryuji, browsing his phone with no sign of discomfort from the bustle or noise. "Any leads?"

"Nah," the runner said, thumb flicking up, eyes skimming the screen for only a moment before flicking up again. "Not as many posts. I sure hope the Phantom Thieves don't go out like this."

Akira straightened his glasses. "Well, I'm too wiped out to go to Mementos. Tomorrow's Pentecost so I have no idea if I'm gonna have time then, but send me a text if you guys run into anything weird happening in Shibuya."

Pentecost. Sunday, 15 May 2016
Afternoon
Kanda Catholic Church

Akira fidgeted in his seat on the pew, waiting for the choir to finish the last song of the day. He knew the liturgy of God sending a helper to the early believers should be uplifting, but instead only felt a twisting sensation of loss in himself. Any day now, that yakuza boss could make the call that would put Takemi on a one-way trip to the bottom of Tokyo Harbor.

The choir came to a sharp halt and a solemn silence spread through the church. Father Sugiyama gave the benediction and the tension broke. The other parishioners packed up their Bibles, Mass notes, and headed back into the unforgiving city. The chaotic shuffles of feet and hushed conversations assaulted his ears, but at least the aisle channeled their movements into one ordered direction. Still feeling wiped out from a week of midterms, Akira hung back and looked for Father Sugiyama for this week's Confession. Maybe that would help lift some of the weight off his shoulders and clear his mind for another shot at finding the yakuza boss's name.

The red omamori-style knot tied in her hair made her stand out even before Togo slipped through the out-bound towards him and gave a brief bow. Her navy-blue, conservative dress had a looser cut than most of her others, and the green highlighting on it somehow made her eyes seem even brighter. "Akira-san, how good to see you again. What did you think of the liturgy? I always love Father Sugiyama's lessons on the book of John."

He bowed back, swallowing at the close proximity to a girl making his heartbeat race. "I'm not sure I agree that there's nothing to be done with another's sins. When God told Moses to take a headcount of the Israelites, they all had to pay an atonement tax."

She held her Bible and shogi box behind her back, her eyes drifting up for a moment. "Exodus chapter 30, as He gave the specifications for the Tent of Meeting?"

Akira rubbed his neck, avoiding looking at those pretty green eyes. "Wow, I didn't even feel that confident when I got to the history portion of midterms this past Friday."

"Oof," she said with a sympathetic wince. "We had midterms last week at my school. I was glad to share our game for a change of pace from academics."

He glanced at the shogi box extending out from behind her back. "Maybe another match this week?"

Her stance perked, that predatory spark lighting in her green eyes. "I have been looking forward to testing out a few moves, and Mother's allowed me some more time today since it's Pentecost." Her eyes flicked over the sanctuary. "Although it can be helpful to practice in different places from time to time. I haven't even had a relaxing stroll since February."

"Well, there's Inokashira Park," he said, dredging up a mental map from the last time he went running there. Plenty of tables to set up a proper game. "I think there's a train there less than thirty minutes."

She gave a warm smile. "Excellent."

They walked to the train and continued debating Biblical stances on obligation and restitution until coming to Inokashira Park itself.

Hifumi sat with her same prim, proper posture on the time-worn bench and looked out at the lake. "So many things can change the experience of shogi. The scenery, the sounds, the smells."

Akira took in the scenario she set up on the board, noticing her gold general sat in his capture stack. The faint breeze tugged at the shogi master's puffy dress sleeves. "You use all twenty senses?"

She turned back to him, brows raised. "Twenty?"

Shrugging, he looked away from those pretty green eyes. Akira rubbed his neck, wishing he could kick his old bastard for raising him with such a screwy, specific knowledge set. "Neurologically there's… I believe twenty-two senses. Lots of them like pressure, heat, or pain are folded together in traditional parlance." He clapped his hands together and tried to remember which move he started with last week. "Anyway, a change in scenery does something to change your choice in moves?"

She nodded and settled before the board. "It helps change your frame on your usual sensibilities. Shed light on new moves." She let loose a dainty giggle. "A little like you, Akira-kun. Like a board with endless potential. I wonder what kind of formation you could become."

He swallowed, feeling the impression of heat on his face and tore his gaze off eyes deeper than any well. Looking to the board, he settled into calculating his next three moves.

Monday, 16 May 2016
Lunchtime
Shujin, Class 2-D

Fatigue from the midterms clashed with the anxious coil of energy tensing inside him from being away from the Metaverse. Giving Ann a small wave to be sure she was okay, when she gave a nod and looked back down to her phone he decided to leave her to whatever text absorbed her attention. She seemed busy but not tired, so that was one member recovered enough from midterms to join another sweep through Mementos.

Akira picked up his school satchel and held it open to allow Morgana to slip in without being seen, then walked out of the classroom packed with boisterous conversation. Mind already working on preparations for Mementos, he stood up to find a quiet place to strategize with Morgana. With the number of people in the hall he knew the courtyard would no longer be a safe place. He turned to the roof.

Blinking in the glare of sunlight, he let out a breath of relief at the peace and quiet. "So we've only got a matter of time, a couple weeks at the most until Leopard Print tries something stupid."

When his vision adjusted, he realized a girl knelt down in front of the rows of planters. Her winter Shujin uniform made her look like every other girl in the school, but that curly brown hair looked familiar. "Oh, hello. I didn't realize anybody else came up to the roof."

In the privacy of his own mind, he cursed at the lost opportunity to strategize. Certain she heard him, Akira swallowed and back-tracked the conversation to be sure he hadn't blurted anything incriminating. He remembered she called herself Haru, but drew a blank on her family name. Best not to look too forward, just in case she was in cahoots with that officious girl with the hairband. "Oh, uh, hi. Senpai. You come up here a lot?"

The upper-classman clasped her hands, her eyes sizing him up with a strained energy behind them. She reminded him of Toyohisa, looking for something and expecting not to find it. "When Kiriko-kun stopped coming to the Flowers and Gardening Club, all the other members lost interest. It wasn't fair to the plants to just leave them up here to whither, so I had to take care of them." Setting his school bag on the ground to let Morgana out, she still caught him hopping out. "Oh, you bring your pet cat with you to school, that's adorable!"

Morgana shot a smirk at the transfer student and swished his tail with a purr.

Akira shot him a frown. "Go ahead and laugh it up, fuzzball."

She giggled. "Did you come up here for lunch? Don't let me stop you."

Glancing from her to the planters, he wondered how reliable meeting on the rooftop would be. After a short prayer, he took out a container of spiced rice and chopsticks. "You up here a lot?"

Her lips pressed together and her brows drifted closer. "At least once a week. There's really not much difference between here or somewhere else."

Akira snapped up from his rice, eyes wide. "No difference? It's actually quiet up here. It's like an island of peace surrounded by the rat race."

Haru looked down with a faint but bitter smile. "It is strange how energetic some of them can get. It's not like the company will grind to a halt if somebody comes in an hour late or leaves off a TPS coversheet."

He swallowed his mouthful of rice. "Yeah, but you can be guaran-fucking-teed that if you're five minutes late that you'll get an hour of ass-chewing." Akira took a large bite of his rice, but when he thought he saw a hint of condescension in her smile, he swallowed and went quiet.

She brushed at her hands and gave a tenuous smile. "Well, it was nice talking to you, but I'm afraid I have to get cleaned up for class. See you later."

AN: Since Maruki's bumbling but amusing introduction to the school didn't leave much room to vary and also didn't really define the characters nearly as much as the courtyard scene, I left it in Daywatch's "off camera" cutting room floor so I don't throw game repetition at everyone. It's a good scene, but I want to stick to the real meat of the plot and characters and the courtyard is where things happen.

Akira's "the evaporated" line is one of many terms for the nearly 10,000 people who go missing in Japan every year. Many of those are elderly without any close or surviving family, or suicides, but children and kidnapping victims of all ages are included there. He is hitting hard to defend himself from a perceived threat, just as his psychologist father taught him, even if it's not actually the best route to take. He'll get over that, and Maruki will be one of the people who helps him do so, but right now all Akira knows for sure is that Maruki is a "shrink" and wears a white coat just like his father did. It will take time and bitter lessons before he's ready to give up his presumptions, just as is the case for nearly all abuse victims.