Persona 5: Daywatch

Tuesday, 24 May 2016
Early Evening
Shibuya, Teikyu Building

Akira paced next to the others, looking through the list of now-defunct bookmarks in the Metaverse Navigator. Ann grumped next to him, and Morgana sat in much the same state from inside the school satchel.

Only Ryuji seemed to share his burning need to inflict violence on something in an effort to make something right, or just to do something. He held his rage in check until coming across a discarded plastic bottle in the road as they trudged back towards Shibuya station. "I can't believe we got nothin' after all that work!"

Akira shoved through a herd of businessman trudging out.

Ann grabbed the transfer student's arm and pulled him to the corner. "Akira!"

Morgana's ears remained curled as he groused in Akira's school satchel. "It looks like our luck has run out. After all the Palaces I've visited, I never imagined one would have its sanctum in the sky. How could I possibly counter that?"

Ryuji walked around a gaggle of college students heading home, his frown deep but his hands in his pockets. "What're we gonna do, ask the real Kaneshiro?"

Niijima slipped out of the crowd behind them. "Having some difficulties?"

Ann turned a hooded gaze on the student council girl, too tired to be a real glare. "Did someone tell you to eavesdrop? Or sit on your high horse and look down on us? At least we're trying."

Ryuji cleared his throat. "Dudes, she ain't the enemy."

Her words in the student council room echoed in his mind, "What would the police think if I were to send this recording to them?"

Akira adjusted the satchel strap on his shoulder. "Don't be so sure of that."

"Joker," Morgana poked his head out of the satchel. "We could have a mutually beneficial agreement."

Niijima tucked her manga in her school bag. "Perhaps—"

Akira whirled on her, ignoring the crowd. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Would you just go away? This isn't a situation calling for middle management to helicopter around until a trouble-shooter solves the problem for you. You're worse than useless!"

Niijima cringed like he gut-punched her. He'd have sworn he saw light glinting at the corners of her eyes before she blinked, anger and something else flashing through her eyes before she straightened with an unnerving calm. "So, you want to talk to Kaneshiro Junya?"

Akira pondered whether to try throwing her off with a joke or if a satisfying verbal barb would do the trick.

"Then you get Kaneshiro." She dashed between them and out the door.

Akira paled, his eyes widening. He didn't need to see how Masa treated Takemi to know that the best she could look forward to would be floating face-down out of Tokyo Bay. He was pissed she threatened his friends, but didn't want her brutalized and murdered. He took off after her, but stumbled to a stop when a grey-haired man in a shabby office suit strode in through the door. The transfer student looked to Ryuji, who began running alongside. "Stop her!"

Ryuji nodded and launched off through the crowd, ducking and weaving through the crowd with a dexterity of years of practice. Easy back-and-forth like the strokes of a swimmer, picking one way and then the next to race through the crowd. It was so graceful in its own way the transfer student gawked.

Shibuya, Central Street

Ryuji leaped over an unauthorized street-side jewelry dealer, cutting through the crowd like a race to the school gate. If it wasn't for the student council president's braid, he'd have lost her among the sea of other dark-haired girls in the evening Shibuya crowds. Slipping around some old granny with a walker, Ryuji closed enough to see her flag down a cab.

"Spiral Hostess Club," she said.

"Shit, she was listenin' in on us," Ryuji spat. Skidding past a trio of children, he caught the door before she could close it. "Are you totes crazy?"

She commanded, "Drive."

When the taxi began to move, he leaped inside, hopping to the opposite seat.

The taxi stopped and the driver looked into the back seat. "I'm not getting involved in any fight between you an' yer boyfriend."

Ryuji choked on air.

"Just drive." Niijima closed the door, her voice just as authoritative as last time. Without making eye contact, she pulled on her seat-belt.

Knowing trying to physically force her out would just end up with the cops carting him off, Ryuji followed suit. Taking that as good enough, the driver turned around and put his foot on the gas.

Ryuji looked over at the stoic girl hitching a ride to some place filled with gangsters. Now that he was faced with the prospect of talking a girl down, he wished Akira didn't have that damn fear of crowds so he could've done it. Not that she wasn't easy on the eyes. He leaned closer to hiss under his breath so the driver might not hear, "Prez, these ain't the kinda folks to screw around with."

"Neither am I," she snapped back without any attempt to keep her volume down, her crimson eyes still on the road up front.

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of a way to convince her not to throw both their lives away. Keeping his voice down, he tried reasoning with her, "Prez, these ain't the kinda guys that're gonna be impressed with winnin' a student council election. They got people that handle things in alleys at night."

She rounded on him, her eyes blazing, pricks of light glinting at their corners. "The kind of thugs that my fellow students begged me for help with." Her breath hitched. "How long am I supposed to do nothing, Sakamoto-kun? How long should I wait for somebody else to take care of the problem for me? Isn't that exactly what you all were just condemning me for? For doing nothing for Suzui-kun? For doing nothing for Kiriko-san?"

Ryuji recognized the name of the shoe-in for StuCo president before she transferred out without a word to anyone. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. This girl held onto things even longer than Akira.

The cab driver pulled to a narrow access road with openings to a small parking garage. "Spiral club is just past this parkin' buildin' here."

Niijima pulled out her wallet and paid at the machine bolted into the back of the driver's seat, ignoring Ryuji's protestations.

Scrambling to keep up, he slapped the seat-belt away and stumbled out after her. Out of the taxi, he abandoned any pretense of staying low-key and reached for her. "Prez! For real, you don' wanna do this!"

Niijima shrugged off his hand and marched on through the concrete parking structure. It reminded him way too much of Akira's march on Kamoshida. Before coming to the pedestrian exit, she drew her phone and dialed.

Akira's voice came from its speaker. "Niijima, are you fucking insane? Get back here before you cross a line they will not let you come back from. Blackmail like they've got on Iida are kiddie games to them. These are the kind of bastards that run sex slavery."

"Stay on the line and listen," she snapped, her face focused and open hand curling into a fist. "You might want to record, too." She opened her phone's settings and tapped. Akira's protestations went silent.

"Prez!" Ryuji had just enough time to say before she strode out of the parking garage to a tall building with signs for half a dozen businesses inside. One emblazoned with 'Spiral'. "He's serious! We all are. This is the yakuza!"

Niijima yanked her arm out of his hand and power-walked in, then up the stairs to Spiral. She burst in without the niceties he thought were programmed in her. "Where is Kaneshiro Junya?" she demanded of the front hostess.

The girl behind the front desk gave a clenched smile. "This is just a hostess club, miss."

Ryuji couldn't imagine that physically hauling her out now could be any worse than the steaming pile of dangerous shit she was trying to step into, so he grabbed Niijima by the elbow and tried to pull her away, only for the student council president to go all Bruce Lee on his ass, spinning him around and pinning him to the front hostess' desk.

Niijima stared into the hostess' wide eyes. "I know Kaneshiro is here." She straightened and looked out at the pairs of businessmen and girls in costumes showing off their curves. "Kaneshiro is peddling drugs throughout Shibuya and blackmailing high school students!"

The quieted conversations burst into a murmur and two of the men stood up and slipped out.

Refocusing on the hostess, Niijima added with a still raised voice, "I want to talk to him now. Or I bring the police in on it."

Another handful of businessmen decided to make a hasty exit. One of the suited men lounging around a door in the back stood, straightened his jacket, and walked up to the front desk.

Beads of sweat broke out across the hostess' face. "Please don't cause a commotion, miss. Nobody wants any trouble."

The man with small piercings in his ears and nose glared down at Niijima. "Whatta you makin' up shit against a respectable businessman like Kaneshiro for? Beat it."

"Yeah," Ryuji said, still pinned to the front desk. "We'll just be going now. C'mon, prez." She pressed with way more muscle than he thought a girl could have and he couldn't budge.

Seeing that raising her voice got at least some reaction, Niijima shouted, "Kaneshiro is running the Shibuya mafia and anybody spending money at his business is supporting the mob!" As another handful of businessmen made their exit, she glared right back at Pierced Muscle-head glaring down at her. "If he's not here, you'd better take me to Kaneshiro right now!"

"Please," the hostess begged as another man in a generic suit walked from his station at a door to the back. She gestured both hands down as if that would make any impact on the student council president. "Nobody wants any trouble."

Pierced Muscle-head reached for her and Niijima let go of Ryuji so she could snag his wrist and hold him off. Pierced Muscle-head's lip quirked. "This boy's smarter'n you are. Might want to do what he says and make yourself scarce before someone makes you."

Niijima snapped, "I'll only make more of a scene until I talk directly to Kaneshiro Junya."

The other thug in a nice suit reached into his jacket. When Ryuji caught sight of a holstered gun, he felt himself break out in a cold sweat, but instead the thug drew a flip-phone and dialed a number. "Boss? We got a problem child up at the front. Permission to… take care of things?"

The upper-classman shouted at his phone. "My name is Niijima Makoto and I'm not going anywhere until I talk to Kaneshiro Junya!"

Ryuji caught a burst of some dude's raised voice for a moment from the flip-phone before Suited Thug frowned. "You either got real good luck or real bad, girlie. Boss will see you now."

Pierced Muscle-head jerked his hand out of her grip and led the two high-schoolers to the door in the back. He knocked three times with a brief pause after the second knock. A bar latch on the inside scraped before the door swung open, another meathead inside. Pierced Muscle-head plopped down into a chair next to a small table with cards. Meathead Two and Suited Thug escorted them to a private room several doors down the brick-faced hallway.

Inside a room lit by soft blue and purple lights rested plush couches. A laptop rested on a glass-topped, circular table strewn with fancy booze bottles. An overweight man with thick, brown hair looked up at the high-schoolers with a sneer. He kicked up his feet on the table and put his arm around a hot woman wearing a skimpy black dress. "Word to the foolish: time is money and right now you're wasting both of mine."

Niijima glared at the obese man in a silk suit.

Musclehead Two punched her across the side of the head, sending her stumbling into Ryuji.

Kaneshiro sat up, his feet thumping on the ground and rage twisting over his face. "Fucking idiot! Do you have any idea who she is?" He scooted forward on his padded couch, giving the lackey no time to answer. "That's our leverage against the fearsome and until now untouchable prosecutor Niijima Sae."

His upperclassman gasped with wide eyes and Ryuji helped her stand.

Kaneshiro waved a lazy hand at Ryuji. "He, on the other hand, is a nobody."

Suited Thug snapped a sudden punch into Ryuji's gut, sending the track star crumpling, breathless, to the ground.

"Sakamoto!" Niijima scrambled to get between him and Suited Thug. "Keep your hands off him!"

Kaneshiro laughed. "Are you really that clueless about where you are, little girl? If it wasn't for your sister, you'd be nothing but an hors d'oeuvre for my loyal employees before you went away, never to be seen again." He sneered. "Him, on the other hand? I've seen a million trash like him on the streets. Without him, there'd still be a million trash out there. Brainless shitstains like him wouldn't even know what to do with a thousand yen. When I was in high school I was turning one thousand yen into ten, getting ahead of the internet revolution. Now no shitstains like you or Medjed could stop me."

Meathead Two kicked Ryuji in the chest as he tried to stand, sending him crumpling again with a moan.

Suited Thug reached to shove Niijima out of the way, only for her to snag his wrist and spin on the balls of her feet, hurling him over her shoulder into the wall.

Another thug in a generic suit, standing across the room, snatched a GSh-18 pistol from inside his coat, lining it up with Ryuji's heart.

Niijima froze, breathing heavy but crouched low and waiting for the next person to move.

Kaneshiro bared his teeth. "Understand? I eat shits like you for breakfast." He leaned back and smirked, then eyed Suited Thug, held up two fingers and twitched them forward.

Just as the track star began to rise, both hands up as he stared into the GSh-18, Suited Thug kicked him in the ribs, knocking him coughing to the ground. The impacts before hurt, but now each breath caused a dull burning sensation.

"Stop it!" Niijima took a quick step at him, only for Meathead Two to wrap both hands around her torso and pull her back. When she stopped, he reached up to cop a feel with one hand. When Niijima pushed at the limb, the suited man with a GSh-18 lined up with Ryuji's head. She trembled when Meathead Two squeezed at her.

Kaneshiro sat back, taking on a stony expression. "This is the power that unlimited money provides. Power like nothing else in this world can give. And here is the first new rule from the one who has to my new little patrons: run your mouth and I break both of you. Rule two: when I find it convenient, I call you and you get your hotshot sister to back off whatever case I say." His posture relaxed. "There's also the matter of lost revenue because of that shit you pulled up front, but I think a million yen by the first of June should cover it." He swished his hand at the door, all back to relaxed smiles. "Now go."

Suited Thug swung a left haymaker into Ryuji's head, sending the track star stumbling into the door. Stars exploded in his eyes.

Meathead Two released his grasp from Niijima's chest and she dashed away from him, taking the stumbling Ryuji and helping him out the door. "Sakamoto, I am so sorry." Her eyes glistened and she sniffled as she led him back to the door, Meathead Two trailing them. "I never meant for you to get involved. I never meant for any of this to happen."

Remembering the staunch quiet he had to dredge up when his father stumbled home in one of his alcohol-fueled rages, Ryuji just said, "Out."

Meathead Two locked the door behind them as Niijima guided Ryuji back to the front of the hostess club.

Her breathing began to get faster as she led him out down the stairs. "This wasn't supposed to happen, Sakamoto-kun."

Holding a hand over his burning ribs, he turned his eyes to hers. "We all said this would happen." His phone rang, but his ribs hurt too much to fish it out of his pocket, so he just strode out the business tower's front entrance.

Shibuya, Parking Garage near Spiral

Sure they should see them by now, Akira ended the recording and closed the call so he could focus on looking for the blonde and brunette. The air felt thin and his heart hammered in his chest. Stepping out of the shadows of the concrete parking garage, he looked across the narrow road to a business tower with 'Spiral' marked for the second floor.

Ann shifted her weight from foot to foot and cut the call. "Ryuji's not answering."

The door opened and Ryuji limped out, Makoto following right after, her eyes glistening. She had one arm wrapped around her middle and her lips trembled.

Ann raced off from his side and gave a relieved "Ryuji, you made it out!" as she threw her arms around him.

He let out an agonized gasp.

Akira grabbed Niijima by the shoulders. "You idiot, you could've been killed!"

Tears streamed down Niijima's face and she surged within his outstretched arms to clamp hers around him and bury her face in his neck. "I'm sorry." Her arms trembled. "I'm so sorry." Her whole body shook. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

Akira went stiff, wanting nothing more than to push the shaking student council president away. Yet, her tears and the tremors were different than when his mother cried to make a man compliant. Fearing that she'd either break into fragments or pull a hidden knife and fly into a rage, he just stood there, waiting for her to stop and do something comprehensible.

Ann slipped Ryuji's arm around her shoulders to help him walk before looking to the transfer student. "We'd better get out of here. I know Kaneshiro let 'em out alive, but…"

"Right," Akira responded, calm now that he had an objective not involving a girl shaking like a motor about to spin itself out. Returning to the access road, he pinged a taxi to take them to Takemi's clinic. Once it arrived, he slipped a hand around her middle to help guide her into the vehicle.

The whole trip, Niijima repeated, "I'm sorry." By the time they arrived in Yongen, she went quiet but refused to unlatch from Akira.

Inside, they all sat down at the far end of the waiting room while Takemi finished with a patient already in back. Akira sat down at separate chairs, hoping it would force Niijima to let go of him, but no such luck.

The upper-classman's phone played a jazzy tune, and at last she unlatched. 'Blocked' stared up at her from the address of the strange email. When she opened it, an attachment showed a picture from a security camera in the corner of the private room in Spiral. Ryuji lay curled on the floor, one of the suited goons holding his arms over her torso, one hand squeezing her budding breast.

Ann flinched at the clear blackmail. "You going to be okay, Senpai?"

After a moment, she took in a deep breath. She brushed at her shirt with one hand. "I didn't mean to drag you in like this, Sakamoto-kun."

Akira shifted the arm she cried on, feeling the wetness getting into his undershirt. "It was the yakuza, I don't know what else you were expecting."

Morgana sat down before the group, his tail swishing behind him. "No beating up a lady, verbally or physically."

Akira rolled his eyes, but with his arm now freed he reached into the left pocket of his Shujin uniform for a mini-packet of tissues.

"You're right," Niijima said, accepting the offered tissues. "I was stupid. I got so caught up in trying to do something for once in my life, I didn't just walk myself into danger, I made enemies for Sakamoto."

"It ain't that bad." Ryuji shifted in his seat and hissed, clutching his chest.

Akira glanced at the picture filling her smart phone screen. "What on Earth made you go and do something so reckless?"

Niijima chuffed, not quite a laugh but not a sob. "I just… The best I've ever been is a burden. After dad died in the line of duty, Big Sis did her best to keep everything going. She was always so… focused, so driven. She homed in on one thing like a laser-guided missile and nothing ever got in her way." She bit her lip and wiped at her face. "I always… wanted to be like her. Unstoppable. She always knew what to do." She cringed and wiped her hand down her shirt. "And now Kaneshiro's going to expect me to make things even harder for her."

Morgana's ear flicked. "Is that the prosecutor she mentioned in the student council room?"

Ann arched an eyebrow. "Your sis is a prosecutor?"

Nodding, Niijima turned her phone off and put it away. "She's one of the head prosecutors in the Special Investigative Division." She jerked, then let out a cough and her bloodshot eyes started glistening again. "She's going to lose her job because of me."

Morgana puffed out his chest. "Nonsense, we'll find a way to fix this before anything happens to her."

Niijima looked up at Ann. "I… I should also apologize to you, too. The whole school covered up Kamoshida's crimes for… I don't even know how long. I couldn't do anything about it." She squeezed her eyes shut. "No, I didn't do anything about it. If I really cared, I'd have done something. Instead I just did what everybody else said. I could have stopped him before he ruined your life at that school. Maybe even Kiriko-san's." She looked down, her shoulders hunched. "I really am the worst human being ever."

Akira swatted her across the top of the head, knocking her hairband off-center. "Real douche-bags never know they're douche-bags."

Morgana's eyes narrowed. "Akira…"

Ann looked to the small team leader and sighed. "I'm not so different. Me and Yuuki were the closest people to Shiho, but we didn't do anything. I don't think I'll ever stop wondering what might have happened if you at least tried to help Shiho, but…" She straightened, turning a cold glare at no point in particular across the room. "Kamoshida's the one who actually did it."

Morgana's ears curled down as he looked up at the student council president. "I guess you're just like the rest of us. None of us had anywhere to belong either."

Ryuji let out a sigh, then winced. "If we could just get to that damn flyin' palace, we could take care of all this, no prob'."

Ann smoothed out one of her pigtails. "So what do we do from here?"

Morgana's tail swished as he pondered for a moment. "Whether in the real world or in the Metaverse, we're all Kaneshiro's targets now." He looked Akira in the eye. "Think we should bring her in, see if she can divine a solution we missed?"

Akira took off his glasses and pulled out a microfiber cloth to clean them. "I don't see how it could make anything worse."

Straightening her hair band, Niijima looked around at them, then wiped at her shirt with her hand. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

The door to the interior of the clinic opened and Doctor Takemi strode out, her stethoscope bouncing and a no-nonsense expression on her face. "So what do we have?"

An elderly woman trudged out from the back, her rubber-soled cane making a quiet pok, pok sound as she crossed the lobby.

Takemi walked up to the group huddled at the far end of the small lobby. She bent down to examine Niijima's face, taking her chin in hand and rotating her head left, then right to examine the developing bruise. Her eyes flicked to Akira. "I thought you said there was nothing to worry about, and the yakuza weren't going to be a problem?"

"It's not…" After a sigh, Akira put his glasses back on so he could see the far side of the room. "Okay, this time it was the yakuza. But we have everything under control."

Niijima pointed at the dyed-blond trying to look stoic. "And he's the one who's actually injured. This is nothing."

Akira sighed and looked to the slender woman in a white coat. "Just…put him on my tab. I'll come by and pay his bill tomorrow."

Ryuji followed the doctor into the back, not doing a good enough job of subtlety as he checked out her legs while limping into the back.

Morgana's tail twitched and he turned on Niijima. "Before we break, we may have the perfect opportunity to have somebody look in on all those names we've been changing at Mementos."

Akira's brows furrowed. "You really think we can push that on her now?"

Niijima looked from the transfer student to the guide-trapped-in-cat-form and back. "Are you all okay?"

Morgana stood, his tail held aloft like a tiger about to pounce. After a beat, it returned to a slow swish and he looked to the transfer student. "You already know the idea, would you just tell her?"

When Akira hesitated, Ann jumped in. "Could your big sister take names of people who are about to have a change of heart? We went through a lot of people in Mementos while looking for Kaneshiro's name."

Akira nodded. "A lotta prosecutors are always looking to add another feather to their cap. Could she trade names of compliant perps for favors from cops or other prosecutors?"

Makoto brushed her hair back, eyes zoning out for a moment. Her eyes fell to the floor and her hand curled, fingernails biting into her palm. "I don't know. I tried to talk to her about the Phantom Thief on Monday…" He thought he saw her shoulders shudder before she bit her lip. "I'm not sure she'd trust changes of hearts. She even mentioned bringing in a consultant, though last I knew the Shirogane Detective Agency hasn't responded to her requests." She tapped her fingertips on her chin as if doing so would drive her neurons.

Akira pulled out his phone to look at the bookmarks they pursued in Mementos. "I'd rather they rot in prison than float out to sea." He put his phone in sleep mode. "I mean, I'd rather they could just live better. Prison's supposed to be for people who won't change."

Ann sent him a soft look. "Because their situation is a lot like yours? All you want is a chance to live a good life."

He looked away, wondering if Hifumi or Father Sugiyama would have such a generous interpretation of his future if they knew how many fights he threw himself into in the past. If they knew how many injuries he'd caused.

Niijima searched his face as if expecting some kind of clue there. "You're really that concerned about the fates of scam artists and drug dealers?"

Akira straightened his glasses. "We wouldn't have changed their hearts if we didn't give a damn. But any day now there's gonna be a bunch of drug pushers and con artists waking up to what they've been doing to Shibuya. While surrounded by other drug dealers. If we're not willing to let people have a change of heart, what's the difference between us and the Republic of Greater East Asia?"

Ann scoffed. "Hey, I had to read Battle Royale for language arts class, too. We're not that bad!"

"Right," Niijima agreed, her stance relaxing just a little. "Those dystopias kill people. It's not at all the same thing."

He rounded on the upperclassman, looking her straight in the eye. "Isn't it? Both say you're only worth the wrongs you can be punished for. Never forgiven. Or maybe the favors you can be used for. The victims who gave up those names deserved freedom from the prison of their situation, but if at all possible those changed hearts deserve a chance to live too."

Niijima studied his face for a few moments longer. "You really do care what happens to them." She wiped at her white button-down shirt. "Things can be pretty dangerous for people trying to leave yakuza clans. I'll find a way to make it work." She held her left arm in her right. "The only problem is how to get them to her."

Akira craned his neck to stretch out a muscle. "Should we do the same magazine clipping thing as the calling card?"

Niijima shook her head, as serious as ever, but looking settled now. "I think that kind of thing would come across as a taunt to her. We'd need to make this look as plain as possible. Like the…" She broke for a yawn. "…memos that go back and forth between the prosecutors' offices."

Morgana nodded. "I think we're at the end of the road today. Everybody rest up and we'll rendezvous for another attempt tomorrow."

Ann nodded and stood, but then stopped. She turned, arms crossed, to look at Niijima for several long seconds before her aquamarine eyes flicked to Morgana. Then she trotted out.

Akira looked to the packet of tissues and decided it would be better to let her have the rest even if it was new. "You going to be okay? We could only hear what happened in there."

Niijima clenched her hand on the tissues, her eyes down for a moment before she looked back up at him. "You were just as vitriolic as Ann just half an hour ago. Why are you concerned now?"

Akira squirmed in his seat. "I thought you were a hypocrite before. One of those people willing to sacrifice others to get what you want but never get your hands dirty yourself." He swallowed and studied her face to be sure she was as unscathed as she claimed. She only had that one bruise, at least where he could see, but her posture wasn't as hunched as before. "My parents are both hypocrites, used people to get ahead." He glared out across the narrow lobby. "I hate that more than anything else." Akira straightened and looked her in the crimson eyes. "I still think what you did was stupid, but… you proved me wrong." He glanced to the team leader. "So what next?"

Morgana hopped up on the vacated chair next to the transfer student. "We take her into Kaneshiro's Palace. Between her knowledge of Tokyo and her outside perspective, she might come up with a solution we missed."

Akira took his satchel and let Morgana in, then looked to the class president. "Meet us tomorrow, at the Teikyuu overpass after school."

Author's Note: Fan fiction is an opportunity to apply little twists or fixes to many different aspects. I always thought the game was hamfisted about making Kaneshiro a mustache-twirling joke, so one of the priorities was making him a believable, dangerous villain. Leave your thoughts in a comment if you thought this take was done well or badly.