Persona 5: Daywatch

Inaba, Amagi Inn?

Akira pushed open the sliding door with the toes of his inn-slippers. The usual traditional-style room stretched out before him, futons arranged along the left and a tokonoma on the right. While most homes fit a flat-screen TV in the common room's alcove, this one followed the sedate respite from the modern day aesthetic with a vase of silk flowers and hanging scroll bearing the word 'Satisfaction'.

He was about to set down the breakfast tray when he spotted the room's occupant. Ann, wearing nothing but a yellow obi and sultry smile. She stepped over the futon to knock the breakfast tray aside and pull him in by the formal summer yukata Amagi Inn made all its employees wear.

Just when he started to lean in to the sensual woman, the soft patter of slipper-shoes in the hallway drew his attention over his shoulder to Hifumi in that beautiful forest-patterned kimono, coming to a stop with her hands gripping the sliding door. "Akira, how could you?"

He threw his hands up.

Velvet Room

Caroline arched an eyebrow at the boy in prisoner stripes with his hands up. "I haven't even said anything yet, Inmate."

Disoriented, Akira lowered his hands and tried to swallow his nervousness as he looked around the blue panopticon. "Huh?"

"Welcome back, Prisoner of Fate," Igor said in that voice so deep it almost rumbled through the panopticon. "Your rehabilitation progresses apace. From a lair of vanity to one who would think himself a king of your age." His eyes fall to the transparent cylinder on his desk, filled with glass marbles and crisscrossed with iron spikes the size of chopsticks. "You have far to go before you will have the power to thwart ruin."

Tugging the ball and chain, Akira came to a stop next to his chain-crossed barred door. "Could I get a name and address instead of prophecies so vague it makes horoscopes look reliable? What even is 'ruin'?"

"The end of man's indolence," Igor said as if that explained everything. He held up a hand with one white-gloved finger extended. "But be wary whom you trust. Do not forget there is a powerful enemy you are destined to encounter if you continue on your path of strife." He clapped his hands together and both girls in warden costume snapped to him. "Explain to the prisoner the power of the shards of power he has collected in the Metaverse."

The costumed girls spun back around with mechanical precision. Caroline waggled her baton at him. "All right, Inmate! You've already learned how to play with your toy guns. Those fragments of power that you acquire by executing your Personas can be used to do more than play around with your flimsy attacks. You can also use them to harden yourselves and your Personas to like energies." She tapped her baton against the bars in the direction of the plate tray beside the door. "Put that bracelet you found in Mementos here. Then we'll show you how to affix a shard…"

Tuesday, 12 July 2016
Early Morning
Yongen, Leblanc Loft

Battle of the Pyramid sang out from his phone's recharging station, so Akira levered himself up. The addition of new ways to use the Velvet Room would help bolster the Phantom Thieves a lot, but he couldn't help but remember the tears shining in Hifumi's face as an almost-naked Ann clutched him. It didn't take any guess work why he'd dream about a girl almost built of sheer sex appeal, but the betrayed look made him wonder what Hifumi would think if she knew about Shiho. If she knew how much he longed for the girl who threw herself off the roof, or how ready he was to kill for her.

No, he knew what she would do. Should do.

The blurry motion of Yusuke getting up and folding his sheet drew the transfer student's notice, but somehow the artist was already looking his way. "Is anything the matter, Akira-san?"

Just betraying your oath of loyalty for any pretty face, his voice snapped at him inside, resonating so strong it drew a tremble out of his fingers and made him feel like throwing up. And it was right, how could he dare to ask Hifumi to befriend him when he couldn't even stop himself from lusting after any girl who gave him the time of day?

"Just a dream." Akira still paused to kneel before the picture of the Virgin Mary to pray for forgiveness and purity before heading to the rolling garment rack. Yusuke paced closer to dress as well, though he kept Akira closer in his peripheral vision than usual. Since he was already paying attention, the transfer student asked, "You ever get asked out?"

Yusuke pulled shirt down over his head. "My first year at Kosei, I had to dispose of love letters from my shoe locker every week. By this point, only the juniors who do not know me bother to continue their attempts."

Akira tugged a long-sleeved shirt on and pulled to make sure it covered the scars on his wrists. "That many?" He supposed that made sense, he had a lot of the lithe and handsome qualities while also having hints of effeminate traits that drew attention from girls and some boys. He understood the stereotype but didn't really get the investment to the bishounen type. "You ever think of hooking up?"

Yusuke cinched his belt. "I did not. Sensei was very consistent that it was important not to allow oneself to be polluted with the world's temptations or we could risk losing our inspiration in art."

Morgana hopped up onto the table by the stairs. "That con was just trying to keep you isolated so you couldn't even realize how controlling he was."

Yusuke nodded and began checking his thin school book-bag. "I have come to realize that by leaving me ill-equipped to navigate the tumultuous waters of society, that strengthened his iron grip on his pupils." He lifted his bag. "It has also left me uncertain what order to do things in. Does a kiss follow the first dinner together, or need I invite Ann to several first?"

As the transfer student choked on air, the not-a-cat team leader's tail rose and his ears folded back. "And just like that, I'm back to hating you."

Akira shook his head and finished gathering things for school. "I don't really have any answers for you. I never had a girlfriend, and none of the guys I hung out with did, so I don't even know what 'romantic' really is." He gave the team leader a moment to hop in the Shujin satchel, then headed downstairs for breakfast.

Tuesday, 12 July 2016
After School
Kosei Dorms

Akira shifted his grip on the box of clothes, linens, and a surprising weight of books to set the folding easel held in a few fingers down next to the door. He followed the artist and Kosei senior in charge of the floor inside the single-room living space even smaller than the loft over Leblanc. Dark wood dominated the floor and walls, though a single east-facing window let in the daylight.

The floor manager pointed at a closet. "Futon's in the closet, but it looks like your friend's already got your pillow and linen."

"And all his books," Akira grumped as he shifted the box again to take the folding wood easel with the two fingers to spare.

The floor manager tilted his head. "Say, you lived in Madarame's atelier, din'cha? How come you didn't just move back in? The Madarame Foundation still owns it."

Yusuke scanned the walls, partitioning out where he could hang things. "That charnel house of stolen ideas and crushed dreams? I would not condemn my worst enemy to that drafty shack."

Akira chuckled. He had much the same conversation with the artist on Saturday.

The bored high school senior straightened his white summer uniform shirt. "Food is not provided, you're required to date your food or the weekly maintenance inspection can throw it all out. You can put your name on stuff too, but it won't matter. Some jackass keeps stealing everyone's noodles. Lights out time is eight, but as long as you're not hosting a rager, I don't care. There's a speaker in the hallway that buzzes in the morning fifteen before and time to get to school. Officially truancy officers come by when class starts, but I've never seen one. AC is centralized and I don't have the key to change the temperature, so use a wet towel if you get hot. Any questions?" When the artist shook his head, the senior handed the key over and stepped out, pausing at the door to say, "Your guardian's waiting at the kitchen with your papers."

The two Phantom Thieves set down the boxes and put things away in the generous closet before heading down to the first floor. While old, the dining and kitchen space looked clean and well-cared for. To Akira's surprise, he saw the shaggy-brown-haired counselor from Shujin sitting at a table in the corner. He lacked the white coat and wore a different shade of blue button-down shirt, but Maruki scribbled away at the bottom of legalese. Pounding a dot, he capped his pen and looked up. "Excellent timing, Kitagawa-kun." His brown eyes shifted to the transfer student in street clothes and he gave a smile the transfer student couldn't tell was real or feigned. "Akira-san, thank you so much for all the support you've provided for Kitagawa-kun."

Yusuke looked between the two. "You know my guardian?"

Akira slipped his gloved hands in his trouser pockets. "Maruki-san's the counselor at Shujin." He looked to the early-middle-aged man. "How'd you end up being Yusuke's court-appointed legal guardian?"

Maruki straightened his glasses and his smile spread. "The Madarame Foundation asked for me to do them a favor and they'd consider funding my research. I've always wanted to help people and Yusuke seems a remarkably hard-working, level-headed young man." His gaze adjusted to the lingering artist. "Is there anything else I can do for you? Is the dorm all right?"

Yusuke blinked. "I have only moved in today. The facilities seem spartan, but clean, Doctor. Did we really need anything after the interview yesterday?"

Maruki let out another awkward laugh. "Good, good. I hope everything works out for you. Well, if you have all the paints and pillows and everything that you need, I suppose I'll let you get to organizing or hitting the town. No reason to have you sitting around waiting on an old researcher." He punctuated that with another awkward laugh. With the weak air conditioning and humid air, it made the room seem stifling. After a beat, Maruki held out a manila folder of legal papers. "I'll drop off Kosei's copies on the way to the courthouse." Maruki shifted to the transfer student. "Thank you so much for providing a safe space for Kitagawa-kun. I understand you go to different cities – schools! How did you two run into each other?"

"We have a mutual acquaintance," Yusuke offered. He turned to the transfer student. "You two should chat. It is surprisingly therapeutic. But if you would excuse me, I have a painting I must get back to." He gave a shallow bow and rushed back out the door to the stairs.

Maruki took off his glasses to clean the lenses on his shirt. "I have the afternoon free, if you'd like to talk. The courthouse doesn't close until eighteen hundred." His eyes widened behind his glasses. "O-only if you want to. This isn't Shujin so I understand if you have other things to occupy your time outside of school."

Akira pulled out a chair, sat down, and set the bag with Morgana in it on his lap. He leaned in to whisper, "Could you give me half an hour?" At the leader's nod, he set his bag on the floor and Morgana hopped out and away. That done, Akira straightened in his seat. "I feel like we never finished a proper session on what the whole Shujin-mandated counseling thing was supposed to be about."

Maruki gave a nervous laugh. "Counseling is supposed to be about helping fix people's problems, so I try to be open to anything." He tore out a sheet of paper from the zippered binder he stuffed Yusuke's papers into, then drew a pen. "How have you been doing? Being in love is hard enough without the… circumstances of your coming to Tokyo."

A pang struck his heart, but Akira pushed it aside. Dealing with Hifumi was his responsibility, and only he could clear the air with her. Shujin remained a bit of an open question. But what would she say? "What's done is done."

Maruki gave a diagonal dip of his head, as if he couldn't decide whether to nod or shake and caught himself halfway through doing both. "You shouldn't have to force yourself." He forced a grin that was so wooden he might as well as have been wearing a physical mask. "But it doesn't look like you're letting life dealing you a bad hand get you down. That kind of resolution isn't something to minimize. The conflict between what we want and what we have can be too great a chasm for some people to handle. The expectations of reaching great academic heights against not everybody being able to ace every exam. Or the strength to stand up to life's bullies. Those things can turn what should be a bright life into a very dark place through no failing of your own."

I know, Akira almost said. But these scars on his wrists were his, and showing Mishima already surpassed his quota of stupid vulnerabilities he never should have let someone else know about. "What if I like the dark? Makes it easy to nap."

Maruki chuffed, but the up-turn of the corners of his lips seemed shallow. "I'm glad you have a sense of humor about it, but…" His feigned smile disappeared and his gaze peered into the transfer student. "I just want you to know… Not a lot of people could have weathered all that. I know your life wasn't easy before, moving between your mother and father several times, then moving from a scenic mountain town to one of the biggest cities on Earth?" He forced a big smile, but it felt too practiced. "It's clearly done your attendance and grades some good…"

Akira leaned back in the plastic chair Kosei's dorm had for their dining hall. "Back then, there was nothing at stake but embarrassing the old bastard. I've got nobody to fall back on here." He paused. "No, that's not really true. I… I have actual friends now. Not just Hifumi, but Ann and Yusuke."

The smile returned to Maruki's face. "That's excellent news. A peer support group is one of the strongest emotional support mechanisms a person can have. They can be as good for the heart as for the brain."

Akira chuffed in amusement. "You sound like Director Isshiki. 'In cognitive psience, as the heart goes, so goes the mind'."

Wide-eyed, Maruki shot to his feet so fast his chair tumbled backwards. "You know about cognitive psience?"

Akira's hands clenched into fists at the conversation turning to his old bastard. An eyebrow rose at the strange reaction from the counselor. "Bits and pieces. The old bastard studied it. Why?"

"I study cognitive psience," he said, gesturing his hands at himself as if it was necessary. He looked like he was about to click his heals and go rocketing off through the roof and into the sky. "I was researching new methods of psychological treatment. By being able to quickly and accurately diagnose how people think, really feel, we could help them."

"We?" Akira crossed his arms.

"Oh." Shamefaced, Maruki righted his chair and sat back down, but that brightness in his eyes remained and he still had that one-too-many-coffees energy. "It's just been a while since I've met anyone open to the idea, much less had any familiarity with cognitive psience. I've been fighting for the idea for years. It could make the criminal justice system a thing of the past, and do away with the plight of people running through anti-depressant after anti-depressant in the hopes of stumbling across something that matches the patient's unique metabolism."

Akira settled back in his chair. The doctor really seemed to mean it. It didn't seem wise to get roped in without some more information on the commitment, though. "And…?"

"Oh!" Maruki sat, shifting his legs under the table and banging it, knocking his pen rolling off. He bent down for it, then knocked his head on the table on the way back up. "Sorry. If you could help me with my research… just listen to what I'm working on and tell me if it seems off-base or workable, or if you've heard that approach was already disproven!" The counselor looked like little more than a starving puppy begging for one scrap of food in that moment.

Even crossing his arms and averting his eyes couldn't stop it. Akira sighed. "All right. But in exchange, I'll need more sessions of my own. You teach me those test tricks or ways to keep from getting nervous on da—"

"Yes!" Maruki shouted, jumping to his feet and throwing a fist in the air. His eyes bulged when he heard his plastic chair clatter to the floor behind him and he scrambled to right it, then spun back around to the transfer student. "Thank you, thank you!" He pulled his phone out. "I'll go back through my old notes and contact you as soon as I've got something ready. If you give me your contact information, I can send you a note whenever I have some things to go over. Or any time you need a session!"

Akira swapped contact information and smiled at the impression of an over-energetic dog. "Chill out, Doc. You take care of Yusuke and I'll take care of you." His phone vibrated almost immediately and for a beat he thought the over-enthusiastic doctor was double-checking his phone number before he saw Ryuji's name on the caller ID. "Short term employment, this is Moe Delawn."

"Dude," Ryuji shouted. "You ain't been gettin' a head start on studyin' without me, have ya?"

Akira would have stared if the track star was physically present. He thought studying the night before exams was getting ahead of studying?

A beat too short to respond passed before Ryuji blurted, "You gotta help me, dude! I'm desperate!"

Sighing, Akira covered his phone and flashed what he hoped was a better-faked smile at the counselor. "Duty calls."

Wednesday, 13 July 2016
Evening
Yongen, Leblanc

The bell tinkled with a far more cheerful chime than Akira remembered. Despite the beginning of finals at Shujin, it felt more like a warm-up before running laps. Maybe it was the weight off his shoulders thanks to his realization with Maruki, but the thought he could be a good fit for someone, even if Hifumi was out of his league, took a load off his shoulders. He felt more… ready to see what tomorrow brought than since his mother took him to Inaba.

"Hey, kid," Sojiro said from behind his book, near the register. "You look like you've got something on your mind."

Akira squared his shoulders and tried to force the same smile onto his face he felt as he stepped in the door. "Just life. Some good, some bad."

Sojiro slapped a bookmark in his paperback. "Well, this is probably one of those. Package came for you in the mail." He crouched down, then pulled up a box from underneath the counter and handed it over.

The brown-paper-wrapped package felt light, but its weight felt concentrated just off-center. He'd ordered some special pliers and tools for people with physical disabilities so Morgana could work on making thieves' tools when Akira needed to do something else, but this felt too light for that. It wasn't a set of paints Yusuke ordered and had shipped to his name and address, was it? "Thanks," he said before he headed upstairs with the box.

Once in the loft, Akira set the satchel with the team leader down on the table in front of the couch. As the not-cat hopped out and stretched, the transfer student cut off the brown paper to reveal the bright colors of the Napoleonic warfare tabletop board game which had been his favorite since he found one dumped at a neighborhood garbage point outside the Smiling Mountain Mental Institution. The test of memory, cunning, misdirection, and strategy… Stratego.

Cackling bubbled out of him and he held it aloft like a trophy. "Soon, victory shall be mine!"

Morgana gave him a flat stare, but if the light wasn't playing tricks, the corners of his lips quirked up.

Akira hastened to the bookshelf to rearrange things. There was enough room to stuff it in sideways like the books or other small boxes there, but his favorite game deserved a place of prominence. He moved a few books down, shuffling over the whole next shelf to keep things in alphabetical order, then set Stratego down facing out. He'd played through every single staffer and no few of the patients at Smiling Mountain. One by one, they stopped playing with him, but with the theatrics he'd been fostering as a Phantom Thief and Hifumi's rival, he was sure he could keep—

Hifumi! She'd be perfect! It would also provide the chance to clear the air between them.

Akira retrieved the jacket draped over the plastic-sheathed rolling garment stand serving in lieu of a closet. He brought up Queen Togo on his phone, almost bouncing from anticipatory giddiness.

She picked up after just two rings, but a dainty yawn broke though before she spoke, her tone chipper. "Akira-kun, it feels like it's been ages. Have your finals started yet?"

Oh. That would put a damper on things. "Yes, but they'll be done Saturday." He looked across at the strategy game now occupying the place of honor on the bookshelf. "I got a new strategy game. Want to play a few rounds?"

An amused chuckle slipped from her end, making him feel light. "I would love a break then, Aki."

Then an older woman's voice shouted from the background, "…think you're doing, young lady?"

"Mother—!" Hifumi's voice said, fear thickening the indignance before the line went dead.

He popped open the text messenger. [Is everything okay over there?]

The message sat dark.

Akira started pacing in the loft as he punched in her number, but before he hit the final digit, a voice from within reprimanded him, What right does a criminal have to steal from a queen? To presume he is entitled to access to her and her own family should not? Lust and lies would pollute her.

Shame brought a hot blush to his face. What was he thinking, assuming he had any right to her busy life? She told him weeks ago her mother kept her busy, and her father's health needed extra care.

The message sat dark. He tapped in, [I understand if you're busy. Should I call on Saturday?]

That message sat dark.

Akira pushed up his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose, but that couldn't stop the throbbing headache compounding the tiring throbbing in his heart.

A paw thwacking his shin drew his attention down to Morgana. "There's not enough time to get distracted, Akira. You've still got finals tomorrow. Get some sleep for once." He hopped onto the cat cushion on the bottom of the bookshelf and curled up.

Akira sent another text, but both stayed dark. He brought up her phone number, but paused. Finals were coming up for Shujin, and Hifumi had mentioned being busy trying to help with household finances. Pressing now would just make things worse between her and her mother. The team leader had a point and his headache was only getting worse, so Akira began stretching and ran through his end-of-day exercises. Getting closer to Hifumi wasn't worth ruining her relationship with her family.

Thursday, 14 July 2016
Early Afternoon
Shujin, Class 2-D

Akira's phone buzzed in his pocket as he raced down the civics portion of Shujin's semester finals.

Ushimaru's head jerked up from his grading, his red pen still.

The transfer student felt perspiration beading along his forehead.

His phone buzzed in his pocket again.

Ushimaru-sensei's eyes narrowed and locked onto the transfer student in particular.

Akira swallowed and forced his focus to the test.

After School
Shujin, Class 2-D

Tapping his pen to try to let out his nervous energy, Akira almost jumped out of his seat when the bell rang at last. The last holdout with the test begged for one more minute, only for the teacher to deny and demand the test.

With everyone else scrambling to get out with as much gusto as test-depleted students can, Yuuki leaned forward. "Who was messaging you earlier? That source from Kosei have anything new?"

Having forgotten about the buzzing, the transfer student fumbled to snatch his phone out, hoping for news from Hifumi. Anything to explain what happened yesterday. His fear that something happened to Hifumi was replaced by a different fear when he saw Alibaba again. [My patience is not unlimited.] The next message a minute later read, [What have you decided about my offer?]

Akira grit his teeth, but moved his phone down so the team leader could see it in case he had something to add. [Who is this?]

Long seconds passed before three dots appeared beside the four numeral-boxes. [I am Alibaba. And you are the leader of the Phantom Thieves.]

Morgana's eyes snapped wide and he scuttled back in the desk. "Oh crap, he knows!"

Ushimaru looked up from his papers. "Did I just hear a cat?" His dark, bespectacled gaze zeroed in on the transfer student.

Mishima stood up. "Sorry, Sensei. That's the sound effect for one of my phone widgets."

Packed long before the final bell, Akira stood and slid his satchel into his seat so the team leader could slip in just as his phone buzzed again. He zipped up and shared a thankful nod with Mishima, who was packing, before rushing to the stairs. The academic building's roof sat unoccupied by anything other than the plants Haru grew there. When the door opened again, he spun around with his fists up.

Ann jogged out, coming up short when she saw him crouched for a fight. She raised her hands just in case. "Everything okay?"

The transfer student sighed, but before he could say anything, the door opened again and Mishima slipped out. He froze when he saw Ann, but let the door close behind him and rubbed his right arm. "So what exactly is going on?"

Akira unzipped his satchel to let the team leader free to pop his head out and claim his shoulder. "Somebody knows too much." He brought out his phone and returned to the text app.

[I need you to change a heart.]

Ann stepped to come alongside him, leaning just a little but stopping just short of peeking on his screen.

He waved her and Mishima forward. After they reviewed the texts so far, the both looked to him with perplexed anxiety. Mishima shrugged. "So he wants you to change a heart. Who is it?"

Akira straightened his glasses. "How do we know whether we should? We don't know anything about Alibaba."

Morgana shifted his weight on the feet on Akira's shoulder. "We also don't know who the target is. We can't decide or even get started on it if we don't know that much."

Akira grumbled, but complied. [What makes you think I can pull off such a magic trick?]

[You changed Kamoshida, Kaneshiro and Madarame's hearts. As well as dozens of others along the way. Now I require you to change one additional heart.]

Ann shifted her weight to one foot, throwing her hip out the other way as she scratched her head. "Well, that means he knows about the Mementos targets as well."

Mishima nodded. "Well, you guys have changed forty-eight people through there, right? Eventually, those are going to get noticed by the wider world."

Morgana hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Largely thanks to Joker's idea of using one to get the name of another."

While Ann translated, Akira typed, [So who's this criminal you want us to change?]

[Your heart thievery is impossible without a name?]

[Everything starts with a name.]

Three dots blinked next to the four boxes where Alibaba's name should be. Long moments passed. [I suppose the calling cards found by the public did all have names. I presume the others you managed to deliver without public notice.] A long beat passed before Alibaba sent, [Sakura Futaba.]

Akira looked up at the others. "That name doesn't ring any bells for me."

Ann twirled the tip of a pigtail in her finger. "There's a Sakura in Class 2-B, but he's definitely not a Futaba." She pulled out her phone. "Might even be one of those hidden criminals like Kaneshiro. Nobody knew his name until we made his calling card. Maybe Ryuji's heard of her."

Mishima nodded. "Sakura's not an uncommon name."

Akira focused back on his phone. [What did she do?]

[You have your target. How long will it take for you to steal her heart?]

[I can't steal just any random person's heart.]

[Then gather your fellow Phantom Thieves and FIND a way.]

Akira's teeth ground. Between tests and everything else, he did not have the energy to deal with this bullshit. [Why the hell should I bother?]

He hit the send just as Ann yelped and tried to grab his phone. "Akira! Don't provoke some weirdo who's already been able to get into your phone."

[You have your target. Sakura Futaba. If you fail to change her heart, I will expose your identity to the police.]

"Bastard," Akira snarled.

[We shall speak again after you succeed.]

Mishima stared, wide-eyed. "Holy crap. Finals aren't even over, and now this?"

[Who is Sakura Futaba?] When Akira hit the send button, an undeliverable message error popped up. "God damn it." He clenched his phone in his hand, just to notice it buzz in his grip.

Ann had brought up the Phantom Thief chat and struggled to explain the situation to Ryuji. Makoto seemed to get the gist of it, at least from the risk to Akira's probation.

Ryuji's ID popped up. [But how would this ash hole know?]

Yusuke sent, [I am not sure it matters at this point. Should we not do our utmost to prevent Joker from being thrown in jail?]

Jaw clenching, Akira sent, [The Phantom Thieves can't allow our actions to be dictated by some computer creep. Besides, I'm the only one in the crosshairs, at least you guys are safe.]

[For now,] Makoto sent. [If he got into our chat logs, he knows about all of us.]

Ryuji sent, [Well, I don't have the brain power to figure this out when we still have finals. I still have to do shopping for Mom.]

Yuuki said as he typed out to the group, "If there is a bright side to this, he didn't give us a deadline. We can think about what to do after finals. Makoto-senpai's got a good point, though. I recommend migrating all… uh… group chat to something like LINE."

[What's so special about that?] Makoto sent.

Yuuki's fingers tip-tapped over his virtual keyboard. [End-to-end encryption. It needs some setting up because it's not default for all users yet, but the option is there. It should remove the vulnerability of our communications being exposed from the outside.]

Ann held her head in her hand. "Ugh. My brain checked out like an hour ago. You guys mind if I go home and sleep on all this?"

Nodding, Akira said, "You go take care of yourself, first."

Mishima wiped his hand down his face. "I feel like I'm kinda burned out, too. Hopefully he'll understand we can't get started on anything until finals are over. I'll check it out as soon as I can, though." He turned and followed Ann in the door.

Akira followed them down and returned to Leblanc to study, but felt like everything he read got lost in the fog of uncertainty. Bad enough to be a liability to his friends in the real world where he could at least do something, but this helplessness was even worse.

Friday, 15 July 2016
Evening
Chiyoda, Togo Household

Hifumi slammed her hands on her hips and sucked in air to try to regain control of her breath. Her cheeks blazed and her heart raced like the end of track practice at Kosei. Despite that, she refused to back down this time. Maybe it was the last conversation with Akira which straightened her spine, but her mother was going too far. She faced down the imposing figure of her mother, refusing to give a centimeter over the new proposed shoot schedule. "The kimonos were fine, but even the dresses were getting scandalous enough. Have you heard what they're saying about me in the Shogi Pro Players' Association? They don't even refer to me as a fellow player, they think all I care about is becoming the next idol."

The woman in a close-fitting blue dress stood her ground, her posture as rigid as ever. "You can't get caught up in the opinions of little people you're never going back to."

Hifumi huffed. "Mother! These are my fellow shogi players, of course I'm going to be seeing them again."

Mitsuyo scoffed. "Child, you're getting caught up in petty minutiae again. You've only just passed fifty thousand followers on your SpaceBook page."

Hifumi's fingers tensed, gathering the fading scraps of her will to keep up the pretense of resolve. "You mean your page. You created it, you put the photos on it. I never wanted to be famous on social media." Some shame reinforced the angry blush she wore. "Have you seen some of the things people are saying about me on that page?"

Her mother smiled. "I know, it's so easy to bait people with just a few images."

"But it's not about shogi anymore!" Hifumi's hands curled into fists. "All they talk about is my body!"

Mitsuyo waved her hand as if to shoo away a fly. "Some sacrifices must be made on the path to progress. Do you think I had the chance to wield the clout of fifty thousand followers when I was your age? I have been slaving away at building this opportunity between two jobs to pay for you and all the care your father needs."

As every time before, the mention of her father crumbled Hifumi's confidence. Her squared shoulders sagged and her gaze fell. "I… I know." She breathed in. Akira held the utmost in confidence in her, she couldn't let him or her other fellow players down. "But I can't do this at the cost of casting away the most important thing to me. The Professional Shogi Players'—"

Her mother scowled. "Hifumi, stop worrying about the small fries. The opinions of those who already know their place are beneath you. I've had to sacrifice for years to reach this point—you can do these petty things."

She didn't have to point to the folder of public relations agencies, interviews, and worse: the swimsuit schedule in the folder which kicked off today's fight. Hifumi's anger injected a little strength back into the shogi player. "The dresses were getting bad enough. I can't model bikinis!"

Mitsuyo rolled her eyes. "Don't throw a tantrum over these sedate little things. Your bikini shoots aren't until later."

Hifumi's breath fled her at that admission. She shouted, "Is there no cliff you won't push me off?"

The hand came so fast, Hifumi saw the change in the room's angle before she felt the sting in her cheek.

The echo of the slap rang in her ears as her mother drew her hand back. Mitsuyo's voice spoke, low and dangerous when she at last opened her mouth. "I have to get to work, because I care about my duty to this household. I expect you to be ready to apologize when I get back. Make sure your homework is done. No daughter of mine will be one of those bimbo idols with bad grades."

She power-walked off while Hifumi stared off into the china cabinet, her cheek smarting. As much as she wanted to be angry about the first time her mother raised her hand against her, that sensation was swallowed up by the looming horror at what her mother said minutes before.

"Don't throw a tantrum over these sedate little things. Your bikini shoots aren't until later."

She reached out her free hand to slide along the den wall to the hallway.

"Your bikini shoots aren't until later."

Hifumi stumbled down the hall to the back door to let Antalas in, the husky licking her hand on the way in. At least his barking didn't add to the latest fight with Mother. Telling herself her mother loved her and wanted what was best rang so hollow. All those thoughtless things people posted to one of the many social media her mother set up pelted her mind.

"Who cares about all that shogi crap? We wanna see dat ass!"

"She got a chest or not under those stuffy old costumes?"

"It outta be a crime to hide legs like that. The cops should do somethin' useful like arresting her and givin' us a good show!"

The first tear welled over and rolled down her cheek. Those were the people mother thought she was supposed to appeal to?

She needed someone, anyone, to give her an escape, to remind her about what mattered. To at least give her a false hope she mattered, instead of being a market commodity to be sold off piece by piece until she had nothing left of herself for herself. Hifumi made her way into the master bedroom. Where a king-size bed complete with a fancy woodwork frame once dominated the room, now a hospital bed stood, the impressions in the carpet mocking what had once been a fixture of the family's late evening life where they'd all gather around and play shogi, cards, or pile on together and watch TV. The chaise lounge sofa where mother slept seemed so small against the wall.

The rhythmic beep of his heart monitor gave her something to synchronize to. The nutritional IV drip continued, soundless under the other noises of machinery. Oxygen lines snaked from heavy tanks against the wall to the mask over his face, fogging and clearing in a steady beat which assured her at least her father was still alive. Even if he would never carry her on another piggyback ride like he'd give her as she imagined herself a maiden adventurer soaring off on her own dragon.

She let out a breath. No. She couldn't interrupt his precious sleep just for yet another disagreement with mother. He needed his strength.

Still, the hollow feeling left her feeling too burdened to just walk out. She slipped around to her mother's vanity desk. Lights studded the perimeter of the three-mirror set where she spent at least forty minutes every day before going up to work at the TV station. The second drawer on the right was locked, as expected, but couldn't withstand her nimble fingers, a small standard screwdriver from the computer repair kit, and bent coat-hangar hidden behind the vanity. Inside lay her phone, seized Wednesday when mother overheard her talking to Akira.

Akira.

The mysterious man with no family name who upended her doldrum retreat at church. Her heart fluttered at the reminder of the gambler who returned her passion with passion, undeterred by her unbroken win streak. The man whose endless jokes could pierce her thickest walls of decorum and make her feel like breaching the surface after a deep dive, his humor sparing not even himself. The bonfire blazed in steel-grey eyes which darted about the board as eagerly as they drank her in.

Her thumb hit 'connect call' before she even thought about what she was doing. As adorable as it would be to see his cheeks redden by insinuating herself in a swimsuit, he'd also looked sick when she signaled interest before. How could she bring up 'My mother wants to force me to model swimsuits'?

Hifumi closed the call and headed to her room. Maybe calculus would keep her busy.

The notes of Tchaikovsky spilled out of her phone and she looked down to see her practice partner and friend calling her back. The trepidation she felt in her parents' bedroom multiplied, adding shame she'd thought to throw her family's dirty laundry at a man who didn't even know how to handle his own family.

"Togo-san? Is—" Akira's yawn croaked out, "…is everything okay?"

Right, just because she rose and retired early to keep up with Kosei and cram school didn't mean other people wouldn't go to bed early for early-morning jobs or school activities. Her face burned and she closed her door. "Oh, excuse me, Akira-kun. I didn't mean to interrupt your sleep."

A meow which sounded even more mocking than most cats rose in the background. Must be that vocal black cat he brought along to a couple tutoring sessions.

"No, I'm fine," Akira protested. She could almost hear him sit up with one of those cute, lopsided grins of his. "For Queen Togo? Anywhere, any time."

Hifumi's mouth twisted, her muscles tensing like her body wanted to hop for joy despite herself. How did he do that so easily? Was that just part of his relentless jocular personality, or was it just for her? Her heart hammering and her face warm, her mind still spun about what to say about her mother's plans for her. All the years mother held her and guided her warred with this past year, where every day without him felt like a descending spiral.

"Actually, I need to…" he started, rare trepidation in his voice. A faint tremble of hope and fear she'd never heard from him before. "I need to tell you… No, I'm sorry. It's not right to say some things over the phone."

"Help," her mouth whispered before she could regain control. Her face blazed with heat and she cut the call. How could she ask for somebody else to fix her problems, her family, when she hadn't even done anything? What kind of hapless fool did that? Somebody as strong, as independent as Akira would be disgusted with her.

Tchaikovsky floated out of her phone.

Choked with shame, she turned it off and slid to the ground, letting her phone drop from her hands to the carpeted floor. This was her family. And in the dimness of the room lit only by Chiyoda's distant lights leaking in through the shuttered windows, a thousand fears and failures closed in around her.