Persona 5: Daywatch

Tuesday, 17 May 2016
After School
Shujin, Class 2-D

As the rest of the class rushed to escape from campus, the sounds of chairs scraping and a dozen conversations crossing over each other assaulted Akira's ears. Reaching back to the advice Father Motoori gave him before the trip to Tokyo, he took his time and deep breaths as he packed to go. When he scooted his chair back to get up, he noticed Mishima still at his desk, reading about a grisly murder reported in Minato-ku.

The transfer student spared a glance at Morgana, who shifted but wasn't in a position to give a clear shrug of his shoulders. Or whatever the guide-trapped-in-cat-body intended to show.

Akira gestured at his school satchel, then a thumb at Mishima's desk and gave a small shrug he hoped conveyed his intention.

Morgana rolled his eyes and pointed a paw at Ann's seat against the left side of the class.

Watching her stride across the back of the room, Akira pointed at where she was and picked up his things so they could go their separate directions. It wouldn't be the first time the Metaverse guide wasn't interested in taking care of things in the real world. Huffing, Akira shouldered his school satchel and stood up with Mishima as Morgana slipped into the crowd unnoticed to go with Ann.

Mishima took the stairs down, giving no sign he noticed Akira following behind.

"There's the dumbass who went after Kamoshida-sensei!" one boy said as Akira strode past.

By the time they got to the ground floor, Akira had enough of watching the class representative reading about yakuza victims and reached out to grab his arm and stop him. "Hey, Mishima-san."

The tired student looked up, a despondency that looked too much like Akira's own when his mother threw him back to his old bastard. "What is it, Kurusu?"

"Just Akira," he said, though with more volume than he intended, drawing a few momentary looks from students on the stairs already watching him out of the corners of their eyes. He slipped his hands in his pockets. "Akira is my name. Kurusu is how people referred to my old bastard. I'm not him."

Mishima looked back to the social media on his phone. "Sorry, I don't have anything new for you."

When the class representative stepped out into the ground floor, Akira kept pace beside. "Mishima, I'm glad that you're helping us…" He paused to glance around, then gestured to the courtyard. The class representative went along, but stopped as soon as he got underneath the vending machine nook. Akira sighed. "So… where was I? You tracked down… what was it now, two drug peddlers in Shibuya?"

"Three," Mishima said, his tone sounding as hollow as his eyes looked.

"Right. But what good is it going to be if you burn yourself out?"

Mishima shot a glare at him, the first strong emotion he'd seen from the class rep in more than a week. Then he looked back to his smart phone with that dull resignation again. "I've got to do this. You guys took down Kamoshida. I… I still have to make things right… for her."

With the relative silence of the courtyard, Akira took a seat at the bench against the corner and waited until the class rep joined him. "Tell me… how'd you meet her?"

Mishima looked up, his attention gone from his phone for the first time this afternoon. He breathed in, eyes gazing unseeing into the distance, but when he breathed out his face didn't seem quite so tense. "Somebody invited me to one of the girls' volleyball games. Shiho was at the front, and she was amazing. So graceful and precise." The corners of his lips twitched. "Everybody playing in the game was trying hard, but Shiho… she was giving every little motion her all. I probably would've just watched her for weeks if the guy who invited me didn't drag me up so he could hit on Ann. She didn't shut it right down, so Shiho let it go. I happened to be right there and Shiho didn't want me to feel uncomfortable, so she struck up a conversation."

Akira felt a pang in his heart. She showed that same genial kindness to him. "What about?"

Mishima scratched the back of his neck. "Phoenix Featherman. Then we talked at lunch a couple days later. Then I started coming to the games just to see her. When she fell and sprained her knee in practice, I was right there to help her to the nurse." He let out a soft sigh. "She said she was glad somebody outside the volleyball team was willing to help." The corners of his mouth pulled up. "She laughed so easily."

"And smiled," Akira added, a fuzzy sense sweeping over him.

Leaning back against the bench, Mishima let his head rest against the cold concrete wall. "We had to keep our relationship secret so Kamoshida wouldn't make things hard for her, but I couldn't see enough of her. I went to every game, every practice. Kamoshida got suspicious, so I pretended I wanted to be a member of the men's volleyball team."

Akira turned his eyes to Mishima, looking for tells. "That's when he started beating you?"

Mishima looked away.

Akira reached out and took the class rep by the shoulder, squeezing until he met Akira's burning gaze. "Take those feelings, Mishima. Take every smothered scream, every escaped tear, and gather them all deep inside. Use them as fuel to the fire in your soul."

Mishima's thin frown twisted, hunching. "You almost sound like Ann."

Akira snorted. "Well, you won't help out someone in trouble tomorrow by working yourself to death now. Hell, even Ann's worried about you, and she's like the poster girl for relentless optimism."

Before the class representative could say anything, Ryuji jogged up with a ridiculous grin. The kind of somebody with a plan.

On guard, Akira stood and turned to him, the class rep doing the same. "What is it, Ryuji?"

The ex-track star's smile remained undimmed. "Dude, it's a perfect day for a bro-op. You gonna help me out?"

Akira looked sidelong to Mishima, still unwilling to leave things where they were. "You have any idea what that means?"

Mishima turned to the runner with fake-blond hair, his gaze hooded. "Why don't you get to the point, Sakamoto-kun?"

Instead of being dampened by the wariness, Ryuji's grin only widened, revealing bleached white teeth. He reached into his school satchel and whipped out a ten-by-twenty centimeter glossy flier. "It says a cute maid will do anything for you." He leered. "Anything we want." Ryuji hopped back and forth on the balls of his feet. "A maid!"

Akira turned to Mishima. "Am I the only one in Japan who just doesn't get the whole maid thing?"

The Class 2-D Representative stared at the pink flier decorated with hearts and girls in short black dresses with white lacy frills. Despite himself, he stood a little straighter, then turned to the transfer student. "I-I think it's just that. A fetish, I mean."

Ryuji blinked, shoulders slouching as confusion writ over his face. "C'mon, you two are guys, right?" After a moment of scanning them, he slid up to Mishima, smiling wide. "You get what I'm sayin', eh?" He gave a theatrical wink.

Mishima backed up a step and swallowed, but a rosy tint touched his cheeks. "I, ah… I couldn't call some cleaning lady to my folks' house!"

Ryuji wiggled his eyebrows. "No problemo, bro. Some dude on the top floor just moved out so there's a vacant apartment in my complex."

Shooting a hooded gaze to the horny blond, Akira slid his hands back in his pockets. "Dude, Morgana would not go for a prank like this and I don't think I could pick one of the locks around here. Besides, wouldn't the landlord get pissed?"

"Pfft," Ryuji waved him off. "As long as people don't mess up the place, he doesn't care. And the key's inside the unlocked mailbox, so you wouldn't even have to bring those pokey things."

The crack of flesh on flesh echoed in the corner of the courtyard, and Akira slid his hand from his forehead. "Those are rake picks, Ryuji."

Ryuji rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He refocused on the still blushing Mishima. "Whaddya say, bro?"

A faint tremor entered Mishima's arms, and light glinted at the corners of his eyes.

Too on a roll to notice, Ryuji slipped around to drape his arms on both other boys' shoulders and shoot them a knowing grin, "Doncha wanna know for sure what it means for a maid to do anything for ya?"

Hands curling into fists, Mishima squeezed his eyes shut and a tear leaked out of one eye. "You think I'd just… play around with anyone?"

Ryuji tightened his grip around the two classmates' shoulders. "Hey, hey," he soothed. "Think of it as… research. We gotta know if they look just as advertised an' everythin'."

Surprising both others, Mishima jerked out of Ryuji's grip, one hand clenching on his phone and the other bunching into a white-knuckled fist. His eyes glistened. "The one I love is in the hospital, crippled by the Monster of Shujin, and you think I would ever cheat on her?"

Ryuji stared. His mouth drifted open. His head swiveled, stiff, to Akira. Then swung back to Mishima. "You… an' Suzui-san? For real?"

Akira slapped his palm on his forehead again.

Mishima looked ready to let out a roar and start swinging, but after a beat he instead fled.

Ryuji whipped around on Akira. "Da eff…?"

Desperate to keep Ryuji from causing a scene, or start something with Mishima, Akira grabbed the runner by the shoulders. "Uh… You wanna do this maid thing or not?"

Changing mood with whiplash speed, Ryuji stood with his chest puffed out like he just won an Olympic marathon and grinned to match. "Ooh, ooh, we gotta have a codename. It'll be like—"

"Yeah," Akira said, distracted. "Text me." Ripping himself away and shouldering his school satchel, Akira ran at the doors after Mishima. By the time he got to the shoe lockers at the front, there was no sign of the class representative and his street shoes were gone. "Shit."

"Watch your language, delinquent," a teacher snapped as he stepped out of the front desk office.

His phone vibrated. Hoping to see some positive sign from Mishima, Akira sighed at the text from Ryuji giving his address, time, and [Operation Maidwatch: starts at dark.]

Akira clapped his hand over his face. "What the fuck did I just agree to?"

"Language!"

Tuesday, 17 May 2016
Evening
Sakamoto's Condo Building, Suite #416

Akira slid his hands into his pockets, avoiding the urge to scratch at the sweater he kept in his bag for an emergency disguise. At least the ashen-grey trousers only looked a little wrinkled from their long time folded up in the bottom of the bag, though they had no few hairs from Morgana sitting on them. He followed Ryuji into a small sitting room looking out onto a courtyard between four condo buildings. Stepping to the sliding doors to peek at the smallest balcony ever built, a small white dog yapped at him from the grass below. He closed the door and turned back to the dyed-blond. "Are we really doing this?"

"Man, if it's sketchy we just bail. You're almost as good at runnin' as me." Ryuji leered. "It'll totally be like those spy movies." He dropped to a low crouch, holding one hand flat above his eyes. "Operation Maidwatch is about to begin."

Bemused, Akira pointed out, "What are you shading your eyes for at night?"

Standing, Ryuji's smile faded. "C'mon, man. You're ruinin' the mood. We ain't even called yet."

"True." Akira nodded.

Ryuji nodded, slipping his hands in his baggy khaki shorts.

Akira took in a deep breath, then let it out.

Ryuji did likewise.

"Well, if we're going to do this, I guess now's the time?" Akira said.

"Yup," Ryuji said.

Akira looked at the runner.

Ryuji looked at the transfer student.

The small dog outside kept yapping.

"Oh, come on!" Akira groaned. "It starts at four thousand yen!"

Ryuji's eyes narrowed. "Hey, I'm the one who found the flier. And I'm the one who set up this vacant place. It's not like we're messing with someone's home."

Sighing, Akira took off his glasses to wipe the lenses. "I grant that was pretty smart, for you."

Ryuji beamed. "Ain't it?" He paused, then blinked. "Whaddya mean, 'for you'?"

The small dog outside yapped. A nasally male's voice outside shouted, "Sir Fluffernutter, quiet!" But the little dog continued yapping.

Ryuji drew his phone, "If you're going to puss out, I'll pay." He wriggled his eyebrows with a grin. "But I get first dibs on what she does."

Akira growled and drew his phone. "Fine. I'll make the call. At least I've got a scrubbed account to make the payment from." He snatched the flier from Ryuji's outstretched hand and dialed the number, then tossed the glossy paper back. It flipped and twirled in the air.

A gravelly man's voice answered, "Victoria's Housekeeping."

Leaning uncomfortably close, Ryuji's grin spread so far the transfer student feared it would fold into a crease and destroy space-time. The runner slapped his hands over his mouth and danced back and forth on his feet.

The gravelly voice continued, "Do you have any particular requests?"

Ryuji snapped down his hands and opened his mouth.

"Anyone is fine," Akira said.

Ryuji glared.

"May I ask for your address?" the voice said over a woman coughing in the background. Akira relayed the address and door number. "We'll have a maid right up in twenty to thirty minutes."

"Right," Akira said, hanging up. He backed up to see Ryuji bouncing back and forth from one foot to the other. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Would you just relax?"

He bit his lip, no longer looking like he was overflowing with eager anticipation. "It's not that." Ryuji looked left, then right. "I gotta go."

The crack of flesh on flesh filled the sitting room, then Akira took his palm from his forehead. "Then go. I know water's shut off in here, but your flat should still be good."

"C'mon, dude," he said, still hopping from foot to foot. "I don't wanna miss a sexy maid." His gaze narrowed. "An' anyway, why'd ya give 'em a 'whatever'? What red-blooded man doesn't want a little T-an'-A?"

Sighing, Akira removed his glasses to wipe them, then pressed the heel of his palm against one eye in a vain effort to stave off a headache. "Dude, just… go take care of vital functions. It's not like she's gonna be here right away."

Ryuji looked back and forth. "You gonna hold down the fort? Just in case she—"

"Ryuji, of course I'll be here. The last thing I trust is you alone in a room with a strange woman."

He hopped to his opposite foot. "Huh?"

Akira considered shoving the ex-track star out when an idea came to him. He breathed in, cleared his throat, then pressed his lips together and mimicked the sound of a large drop of water.

Ryuji blinked.

Akira mimicked another drip.

Ryuji glared.

Akira sucked in a little air and made a noise of a bubble bursting with his mouth. Then he added another sound of water dripping.

Dropping the flier, Ryuji scrambled to the door but paused, hands at his groin, to glare over his shoulder. "You play dirty," he said before rushing out.

Akira smirked and reached his hands high up to the ceiling to stretch out his back. "Yep, Akira, it's a tough job, but somebody's gotta troll 'em." The sound of the yappy dog faded and he let out a long breath. With nothing to do, he took out his phone and started an online game of shogi.

A couple minutes later, a knock tapped at the front door.

"That was quick," Akira muttered to himself, heading up to let Ryuji back in, ready to deliver a tongue-lashing if the dumbass came back without taking care of business.

A slender woman with bushy pigtails using too much hair product stood outside. She wore a frilly maid outfit with a bust window exposing some cleavage and a skirt just as short as Ryuji's flier indicated. She took the edges of her skirt in her fingertips and bowed a curtsey with a practiced smile that failed to conceal signs of disgust hidden in the lines of her face. "Becky for Victoria's Housekeeping, Master. I'm going to fill your tired heart full of lovely energy."

Akira almost dropped his phone. "Kawakami-sensei?"

The woman's brown eyes grew wide as saucers, face turning pale as a sheet. Without warning, she shoved him inside and strode in, pulling the door closed behind her. She advanced on him with her jaw set. "Listen, buster. I just got my job at that school." Her left eye squinted as she looked him over in the brightness of the empty sitting room, and she set her fists on her hips. "Hey, wait a second. You're that military school kid."

Akira burst out laughing.

Kawakami stepped back, one arm up in case he pulled a knife and went from crazy to kill-crazy.

Still chuckling, Akira wiped a tear. "I can't believe you still believe that routine! Or remember it. I mean, seriously, how many rumors about me are flying around the school?"

She took another step back, looking at him askance and planting a fist on her hip. "Plenty. But besides that one day where the trains were running late, you've never been tardy or pulled any pranks in homeroom. So I didn't give any thought to all those rumors." She looked him up and down. "How'd you know it was me, anyway? The walkway light wasn't even working."

Akira held up an index finger. "I never forget a voice."

She gave him the stink-eye for several moments before crossing her arms. "You know, you could get in pretty serious trouble for calling an adult home service when you're underage."

"Good to know." Akira looked down at the shogi game still waiting on his phone. He switched to the messenger app and shot a quick text to Ryuji. [Maid service is a no! Bail!]

[Huh?]

The snarl slipping onto his face felt a little too comfortable. [Read the fucking age next time.] "I should'a figured the little troll would've screwed something up." Putting his phone into sleep mode, he slipped it into his pocket to turn his full attention to his homeroom teacher in the most ridiculous getup he ever imagined.

Kawakami maintained crossed arms, doing a pretty fair job of shutting out any clear signals of what she was feeling besides a defensive wariness. "Chouno told you, didn't she?" She gnashed her teeth. "That nosy bitch has been looking for somebody to sell out since the detectives showed up at the school."

Feigning nonchalance, Akira leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. "She didn't tell me."

Some of the color faded out of her cheeks again. "W-well, you're not going to tell her, are you?"

Akira brushed his fingertip against his nose twice. "Well, that all depends on the offer."

Kawakami stood straight, fists going to her hips. "I'm in charge of your homeroom. If you're going to side with a teacher, it should be me."

Akira stood, silent.

She swallowed. "If she finds out you called an adult service, Chouno wouldn't be the one you'd want to find out anyway. She'll be just as much trouble for you as me."

Akira watched, silent.

Her eyes wavered, something withering inside her before her expression twisted into a grimace. "I can't pay you. I need this job." She looked away, her left hand taking hold of her skirt. "If you keep this secret from Chouno, I'd do anything!"

"Anything?" he said, raising a single eyebrow. "Four thousand yen is a little bit much. If we cancel this little appointment, how soon can I get my money back?"

She cringed like he'd stabbed her. "Victoria doesn't allow refunds. You pay by the hour, and once the first hour is purchased it's final."

Akira ground his teeth, then froze, an idea coming to him. "You got your phone on you?"

Confusion and a few other emotions filled her eyes, but she still only spared him a resigned glance before taking out her phone and handing it to him. He entered her contact data and texted her an address before handing it back. "Show up here. We'll see what you can do there."

Tuesday, 17 May 2016
Evening
Yongen, Leblanc Loft

The wood stairs creaked under rapid footsteps behind him, and Akira stepped out to let Kawakami pace up into the attic. Moonlight shone down through the open windows, casting stark rectangles on the bed and floor and throwing relief on the exposed rafters above. The pale light made the dark books sorted out on the bottom of the shelves look bleached. The tarp-covered workbench and plastic bin-crammed shelves seemed to loom even taller than normal.

She stopped, her hands going to her hips as she took in the room. "Ugh, this place is more like a warehouse than home." She dragged the toe of one shoe across a few centimeters of floor. "Clean, though."

He paced to the table next to the shelves packed with bags of coffee beans. "Better than the street. Now pick up that end."

Kawakami crossed her arms. "You didn't just lure me here to try to do the dirty in a different venue?"

Akira bristled, remembering the rain and his mother's moans from beyond that locked front door in Inaba. "You can take all those rumors of me and shove them right up your ass. I don't take after Mother or the old bastard. You're in a housecleaning service, right?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she failed to move for the table.

"So let's clean house," Akira added.

AN: I do understand the rudimentary idea of the maid fetish but share Akira's confusion in why it's so popular, at least in Japan. Kawakami had an interesting plot arc in P5, though parts of it felt sterile and disconnected due to the main character being a blank slate the game never fleshed out. In Daywatch I have the opportunity to make this relationship a two-way growth of characters because he DOES have defined backstory and a specific personality. I look forward to seeing what you all think. Thanks for reading.