Persona 5: Daywatch

Thursday, 11 August 2016
Morning
Togo's Temple, Front Bailey

Akira paced through the fog rolling out of the fortress yet temple of Togo Mitsuyo's palace. The Phantom Thieves came here at Futaba's insistence, and he wasn't about to question whether it was to avoid the scheduled work and city exposure training or just divine providence. His palms felt slick under his gloves. This wasn't a selfish run, it was the Phantom Thieves first real charge to help the most important girl in his life. His heart hammered in his chest. The towers and tiered castle walls inside loomed tall, but were they arranged that way before? He lifted his hands to tug at his gloves in old nervous habit.

Ann stopped behind him. "Before we get started, we should get the code names out of the way. I'm Panther, our leader there is Byakko, that's Rider, Fox, Reaper – I gave him that sweet nickname – and the last one up there with more Personas than you can shake a stick at is Joker."

Following behind them, Futaba crossed the threshold of the first gate and into the front bailey proper. Blue flames flickered over her, leaving the slight hacker in her dark, glistening-circuitry tights. The girl jumped. "Whoa! Cool, it's even more sleek than Tron!" She admired herself for a moment before returning her focus to the pigtailed model in a scorching hot red leather getup. The hacker's goggles tipped up and down at the model in red leather. "Wow. And I thought my getup was skin-tight."

Pink dusted Ann's cheeks and she angled away from the hacker. "I-it's just my expression of rebellion. Kamoshida thought he could reduce me until I wasn't even my own woman. Fuck that."

Morgana paced closer, a squared rod in one hand. "Think of it like cognitive armor, our rejection of the Palace Ruler. The rest of us already threatened the Palace Ruler, so we took on our Phantom Thief forms as soon as we returned to the Palace."

Futaba raised the hand not holding onto her staff weapon. "Uh… so does that mean if we level up, we can change into other stuff in the real world? Like how you turn from Bastet here to a cat in the real world?"

Morgana fell to the ground, forehead bonking on the raked gravel path. "I'm not Bastet, I'm a human! The whole cat thing is distortion from the Metaverse. I'm as human as you, but I must have been caught by the distortion of a Palace ruler. That's why I'm stuck with this form."

Ryuji, already snickering, let out, "He tote goes for fish an' licks himself when he thinks nobody's lookin'. Mona's definitely a cat."

The team leader's tail jerked back and forth as he leapt to his feet. "I am not a cat." He tapped that squared rod in his hands, and more shouted than resumed speaking, "I'm trying to get my human body back. That's why I was investigating Palaces and rescued them." He shook his head. "Anyway, the point is, that form is like your Persona. It protects you from the will of the Palace Ruler. Note you remained in your cognitive self-image until you crossed the perimeter. Once your will clashed with the Palace Ruler, you took on your image of a rebel because the conscious and subconscious minds—"

"Are linked in a single if disjointed whole," Futaba exclaimed, her hands clenching her staff weapon. "So you guys use code-names to help control the cognition of the head honcho! Just like how us hackers use pseudonyms so if the PSIA gets their grubby mitts on our code, it doesn't tip them off to our real name or location!" A beat passed, then she lowered her hands. "But, uh… why not just use your names?"

Ann flashed a wide smile. "That wouldn't be cool!"

Makoto tapped a finger against the side of her jaw. "So what shall we call you? I was about to say Hacker, but that might be a little too on the nose."

Ann scratched at the base of a pigtail. "Mech?"

Morgana tapped his folded crossbow against his crossed arms. "Maybe go simple with your headgear? Goggles?"

"Yeah," Futaba drawled, "I'm gonna give a pass on all those."

Akira crossed his arms, knuckle tapping against his chin in thought. "Selket? Goddess of magic and medicine, and founder of the Ashrak assassins."

"Se-ru-ket-to," Ryuji sounded out, looking like he was about to fall over as his tongue tripped over itself.

Akira sighed. "Right, it has to be something everybody can say. That cuts down a lot of possibilities."

"Fu—" Ryuji's eyes flicked to the hacker. "Eff you."

Futaba shook her head. "After having seen what my palace was, I need to step away from my obsession with Stargate SG-1." She poked at the goggles on her face. "These are pretty sweet, though. Something about vision would definitely be cool."

"Farsight?" Ryuji said.

Futaba shook her head. "I'm already farsighted in real life. No way am I gonna take that moniker in a cool world where I kick magical ass."

Makoto uncrossed her arms. "Maybe Diviner?"

Futaba crossed her arms, tapping the butt of her staff weapon against the ground. "Getting closer. Oh! That chick in The Matrix people went to when they knew what they needed to do and but couldn't justify it yet. Oracle!"

Ryuji nodded. "Better than Navi."

Futaba chuckled. "Hey, listen!"

Ann let out a sound of disgust. "Ugh, please no. I skipped Majora's Mask because they pissed me off so much with that twerp of a fairy."

Futaba held up a hand, index finger extended. "At least you played Twilight Princess."

Ann lost her cool thief composure. "Best game in the series! Only thing I was mad about was no boss fight against Evil Midna. They dropped so many hints in the first two thirds of the game."

"Right?"

Makoto gave a cough designed to draw attention. "We can save the video game talk for our next day of socialization training." She paused, but decided it wouldn't matter how much of her insisting on coming to train her Persona was just avoiding that very public activity. "Fu…Oracle, how comfortable are you summoning your Persona?"

"Marcus Drusus!" She slapped a button on her wrist. A familiar warbling hum rose and a set of transporter rings descended, flared with light, then rose up into the glider of a towering man in a silver breastplate, adorned with a red sash. In one hand he held a rectangular scroll case with a short length of parchment dangling out. He stood on a platform that resembled less a chariot than a blocky slab of metal. Prongs jutted out of the front of the slab glider.

A moment later, transport rings descended from the slab-glider-riding man, which dissipated, and the rings deposited Futaba, then dissipated as they rose back up. "I'd'a given you guys a demonstration of the cannons, but I figure with the whole thief motif you guys have going on that we better stick to stealth until it's time to blast the baddies. But as soon as it's time to make bad guys go bye-bye, you better give me a clear shot. This Futaba is no longer a helpless little girl." She posed with her staff weapon.

Morgana puffed out his chest in pride. "It's great to have a smart addition to the team. That's exactly right, like the most stylish of thieves, we stick to the shadows and avoid fighting whenever possible. That allows us to direct our energies to fights that most need it, as well as avoid damaging the mind of the person whose heart we're trying to change. Fox, Joker, Rider, you're with me on the vanguard. Panther, Reaper, you're on flank guard with Oracle." He held up a hand when she thumped her staff weapon on the ground to object. "When too many of us try to fight at once it creates the risk of somebody getting in somebody else's way. I want you to watch us to get a feel for our fighting style and rhythm. Then you can come up and join the vanguard so you can test your Persona."

"Eyes up, everyone," Morgana said at just a little louder than necessary to be heard. "They almost got us the first time we were in here, but they caught us by surprise. We're scouting for safe rooms, ways to disable alarms, and safe routes to the Treasure. If we see that cognitive guard dog, we run."

Makoto blinked. "Cognitive what? You mean like the Orthrus Joker recruited?"

Ryuji snorted. "That pipsqueak was tiny compared to Big and Foggy."

Makoto crossed her arms and turned on the longcoated boy. "How many times did you sneak in without the rest of the thieves?"

Futaba glanced around, her bold posture shrinking at the rising tension in the air. "Sneak in?"

Akira cowed a step back. "T-technically others came in with both times."

Morgana looked over his shoulder at the hacker. "Remember our rule that any decision has to have a unanimous vote?" He turned a glare on Akira. "We were here the first time because Togo Mitsuyo's Shadow inhabited Mementos at the time." At her confused look, he interrupted, "Don't worry about it right now, we'll bring you there after we change Togo's heart. Anyway, it turned from a bud in Mementos to…" He spread his arms, "this."

Akira swallowed, but added, "And then I came back in because I couldn't let Hifumi suffer alone." He held up a hand at the upperclassman in riding leathers. "I know it wasn't playing by the spirit of the rules, I couldn't think straight."

Futaba changed her grip on her staff weapon. "You're preachin' to the choir, Joker. But we're doin' this right, now. All together. Anything we oughta know?"

"Watch out for Shadows, there are puzzles all over the place, walking into the fog is probably bad, and there's a big cognitive guardian that Ryuji and I could barely hold off." Akira flicked on his laser dot projector, its beam joining the narrow cone of light from Makoto's shotgun. They advanced to the lobby building, but this time headed for the door to the Hall of Interns. Like before, a plate bore a puzzle in poem form. "I cover what's real and hide what's true, but sometimes bring out the courage in you." He scratched his head. "The hell's that supposed to mean?"

Ann pressed her free hand to her masked face. "Honestly, Joker. You've even used it. It's makeup."

Hollow wooden clunks resounded below their feet, then the door slid aside. Another covered walkway stretched out before them, the flat plane broken by stairs as it ascended the hillside. Deep fog rolled to either side, but only faint wisps slipped across the path. Fortified walls and distant towers rose up in the distance like the hints of a dream. The thieves proceeded at a wary jog.

Two humanoid shapes resolved out of the billowing fog to their right. A pair of the Shadow guards in formal shrine keeper garb stood there, ceramic noh masks where their faces should be. With no appreciable cover to speak of, the Shadows shouted, "Intruders!" and collapsed into viscous pools of darkness.

Four curvaceous women wearing fancy court robes – if 'almost shrugged off' counted as wearing – formed out of the muck. Their fluffy twin foxtails twitched behind them and pointed claws extended from their fingers.

Flanking the vixens stood a pair of what appeared to be man-sized, red-furred wolves with spiked iron collars. But on closer inspection, the beasts had segmented plates like a snake running down their bellies and up the base of their tails. Long chains dangled from their collars and the fog danced around them.

"Zorro!" the fastest of the Phantom Thieves called out. The burly Persona's eyes blazed with shimmering purple. The same aura swept over one of the indecent vixens, tossed it up into the air, then slammed it back into the ground where it crumpled in a heap. "Fox, no lightning against those women!"

Akira reached back for his first Persona and a churning column of fire and darkness touched down. Black lightning flicked over Pillar of Heaven before darkness zipped out across the ground in its zig-zag pattern to the wolf-monster on the right, then roared up.

The red-furred beast didn't even twitch. Then both opened their fanged maws and let loose a mighty roar that washed over the thieves.

Yusuke and Makoto kept their feet, but between the intimidating bellow and concussive wave, Akira and Morgana fell to the ground. The artist snapped to, drawing his katana to defend his fallen teammates while Goemon threw a bolt of lightning into the wolf on the right.

Makoto summoned Johanna but braced within her Persona. The three standing vixens, already crackling with energy, loosed lightning bolts. Goemon dodged with deftness belied by his size and Makoto gritted her teeth but bore the strike.

Morgana was not so fortunate as a bolt struck him, knocking his already prone form over in a seizing flop with a cry of pain.

Makoto shot a bolt of fire at the indecent vixen struggling to its feet, blasting it into fading smoke.

Akira sucked in a quick breath, then kip-upped. His attention clear again, he directed Pillar to blast the right-most beast with a pulse of fire. The blow struck and the Shadow clenched its eyes shut, but returned a growl as soon as the flame passed.

Of course it would resist fire as well.

One of the indecent vixens on the right batted her eyes at him, seizing his gaze. He blinked, and a red omamori-style knot he didn't see before dangled from the curvaceous woman's hair as Hifumi slid off her pink kimono to bear everything. A part of his mind questioned, but between the tightness in his pants and dryness in his mouth he couldn't form a coherent thought. His gun clattered to the wood walkway beside him. Hifumi lifted a hand, inviting him closer with a curling finger.

Then a psychedelic burst of light flashed and a jolt of agonizing pain shot through him as if his a jagged sword cleaved down through his body.

Akira hit the covered walkway, blood dripping from his nostrils. He coughed blood and heard the whoosh of flames and crackle of lightning, then a shout from Morgana. Warm motes swept over the longcoated boy's body. Tendons and muscle knit back together. Akira scooped up his gun and stood, woozy for a moment.

No Hifumi met his gaze and his heart twinged, but two indecent vixens were gone and Makoto hit the last remaining giant monster-wolf with a drive-by shotgunning. The thieves encircled the last vixen, singed and collapsed against the fog-shrouded ground.

It clutched its pink hanfu close and bared teeth with long canines at them. "You brutes. Coming in here and ganging up on dainty li'l me."

Remembering the vixens seemed less phased by gunfire, Akira lowered his gun and brandished his over-sized survival knife. "We'll apologize when we find a lady."

Her lips curled to bare even more of her fangs.

Yusuke flicked his katana out, light from distant torches glinting over the blade. "Do not forget your situation."

The fox-woman's tails puffed wider and she shrank back. "O-of course! How could I show my sincerity?"

Morgana's blue gaze flicked from the Shadow to longcoated boy. "You've gotten insights into the Palace before when you've purified Shadows before, try it here."

Akira took in a deep breath. "Give us your cunning."

The vixen leaned to one side, one hand braced on the ground as she feigned relaxation. "I couldn't serve a boorish man of no intellect. Riddle me this: What is a thing that is precious as gold, yet may never be sold? A thing which can be kept but not used, a weakness that can not be removed?"

Ryuji, from back with Futaba, grumped, "What is it with this Palace an' effin' riddles?"

Akira wracked his brain. This sounded familiar. Something literal could not be precious yet also impossible to exchange. He glanced to Makoto, but she looked as consternated as him. What would he have and never want to let someone else have? Reputation?

Then the answer struck him. "A secret."

The vixen shot upright, the ashen cinders floating around her falling away. "I laid low the Yi Dynasty, yet exploited only vices already there. Only the pure of heart are beyond my lure." She burst into black which streaked into Akira's mask.

He took a pouch of Takemi's medicine from the team leader, downed it with a chase of coffee from the thermos, then touched a finger to his mask, a tingle passing through him. "Daji isn't the only Shadow here that can brainwash."

Makoto pursed her lips. "That could be problematic if there are a lot more that can use psychic powers like Zorro."

Futaba's head tilted. "Zorro? Psychic powers?"

Yusuke riposted with aplomb, "Your Persona is a Roman reformer riding a mechanical glider with cannons."

"Fair."

The Phantom Thieves advanced down the covered walkway to a grand building with tall, plastered walls. A thin walkway wrapped around the building's perimeter, but they focused on the door with lettering over it proclaiming this the Hall of Interns. Akira read the placard on the door. "I can be held or touched, but not seen. I can be given without being lost, but only won with great cost." He put away his knife, then scratched his head. "What can be given without being lost?"

Yusuke gave an amused chuff. "There is only one thing unseen, yet can be touched by art or held by hope. A heart." Heavy wood clunking reverberated and allowed the artist to slide the door open.

The rest of the Phantom Thieves filed in, though Futaba paused at the threshold. "Not bad, Inari."

"Stay close," Morgana hissed. The tall forms of more Shadow guards patrolled the long hall, heavy pipes in the ceiling giving the space a feel more like a factory. Light filtered in through the screened vents high in the walls, but a deep gloom otherwise suffused the cavernous space.

Makoto swept her gun-light across the room, revealing numerous murals on the walls of faceless men groping a young Mitsuyo in a crying noh mask. More cognitions bearing crying noh masks toiled at desks and work benches, some with mannequins of larger-than-life old men rearing back as if to beat them with rolled up scrolls. Near the middle of the hall longer than Shibuya's Central Street stood a bus stop where three male mannequins wearing grinning noh masks crowded around a busty female mannequin, her shoulders slumped and the crying noh mask turned to the plastic walls to try to edge out the leering trio.

Ann's hand clenched around her Zat gun. "Yeah, I totally get that. Saw it in New York and Rauma, too. People talk about how great it would be to be beautiful, but then when somebody shows up who fits the criteria, it seems like there's either resentment or some entitled prick who wants that for himself."

They moved on, fighting past another Shadow patrol to another mannequin display of crying-noh-mask Mitsuyo reaching for a ten thousand yen note on a fishing line, behind held just out of reach by a male mannequin holding the fishing rod.

Futaba shook her head. "I wonder if Mom had to deal with that kind of crap."

Ryuji growled. "Ain't even gotta be pretty. A buncha them old boss assholes had it rough an' just keep the shit rollin' downhill 'cause they got shit when they were there. An' peeps call me dumb."

Makoto let out a distressed breath. "Clearly she was abused. Why wouldn't she report any of this to the police? Bosses being a jerk might not be against the law, but sexual assault most certainly is."

Akira shook his head at her naivete. "Police are part of the entrenched system. I bet they 'dissuaded' her from reporting her abuse."

Her gun-light's cone fell. "How could you say that?"

He squinted into the dark. "That's what they did to me. The first school day I came to school with a broken nose from the old man, my first-grade teacher said he was going to report it to social services. He was gone the next day, and the school hired a replacement three days later who refused to ask about my 'home' life. Same thing with the drunk. If you're part of the old boy's club, the system protects you despite your crimes. If you're not, the system will grind you up and spit you out."

"Drunk?" Futaba chirped.

"We can talk about it once we hit a safe room," Morgana interjected. He led them around the space reminding Akira of a defunct museum.

Futaba slipped up to the leader. "Hey, can I come up?"

Morgana rubbed his chin. "This darkness is not an ideal condition, but you do need to practice. Rider, take to the rear."

As the iron-face-plated girl slipped back, Futaba hefted her staff weapon. "They won't see me comin'!"

A Shadow guard stepped around a raised, enormous stone fire pit. "I heard something."

Morgana leaped, his claws scratching at the mask for purchase until he ripped it off. The Shadow convulsed and swelled, bursting into the powerful form of a lion with a human face and wearing a plated steel hood.

With the Shadow disoriented for a moment, Yusuke reached for his mask. "Goemon!" The bigger-than-life Persona blew a puff into his pipe, launching a lightning bolt into the beast, only for the lightning bolt to spring back into Goemon. Yusuke growled. "This place vexes me!"

Futaba lined up and the discharge pod of her staff weapon crackled before she shot a bolt of flame into the beast's flank. A pained roar rose up.

Makoto reached forward, metal plates sliding and clicking as Johanna formed underneath her and she took the artist's place. She sent a bolt of flame into the burly beast.

It roared, but just for a moment. It snapped its jaws with a sound like a hiss, and needles shot through the air at Futaba. One thunked into the wood floor just short of her and dissipated, another sailing over her, but the third pierced her belly and dissipated before she realized she'd been hit. The slight hacker tumbled backwards, staff weapon falling to one side as she clutched her bleeding wound.

Morgana caught her and looked up through a narrow gaze. "I'll heal her. Joker, try curse magic! Fox, left flank! Reaper, up!"

Pillar of Heaven crashed down and pulsed a dark, moaning blast into the muscled beast.

No longer addled, the lion-bodied Shadow spun around, its tail glinting in the faint light leaking through the high windows. A jagged sensation tore over Zorro and the other four of the forward thieves, knocking Johanna over.

Ryuji grit his teeth but held his ground. "My turn! Blast 'em, Captain!" The skeletal pirate riding a ship held out its arm-cannon and unleashed a swirling cone of slicing winds, blasting the Shadow into dissolving smoke.

Akira tore open a packet of some of Takemi's medicine and poured it straight into his mouth, then drew a small water bottle to wash it down. He handed a medicated bandage to Futaba. "You going to be okay?"

She swallowed, but accepted the team leader's hand to stand. This time she whispered, "Sorry." She accepted her staff weapon, but still held a hand over the medicated bandage over where a needle as long as her forearm had pierced her belly.

"As long as you're okay," Morgana said with relief. "This much darkness is going to be harder to fight in, maybe you should hang back until we're outside. Rider and I can heal wounds to a degree, but nobody can bring you back from the dead." When she gave a nod, the catboy led the thieves through the dark to a locked ladder built against the wall, unlocked it, then up it to a walkway bathed in a glow as if a full moon hung right outside. A door with a gold nameplate declaring Section Chief stood against the outer wall. "Come on in, everyone. The ruler's cognition is weak here."

An executive's corner office lay beyond the door. An indoor fern to the left added some green. A bookshelf of war history covered the whole right wall, an oak desk angled in the other corner, with one of those clacking metal orb desk decorations. Despite the fact that the only windows visible from the outside all seemed to be those arrow-slit or screen-covered type, floor-to-ceiling windows behind the desk looked out to a misty, night-time forest without a hint of clouds in the sky. The thieves paused to check weapons and make sure Futaba had nothing but skin abrasion remaining.

Futaba trudged up to the runner. "I'm sorry I threw everything off, guys."

Makoto slapped her magazine back into her shotgun. "We were all new once, just be careful to pay attention and work with us."

"Yeah," Ann said, a pointed gaze at the longcoated boy.

With the team ready, Morgana led the thieves back out and through the maze of degrading mannequin exhibits or cognitions working themselves to tears. It took a while to move while avoiding Shadow guards, but at last they came to the end.

Makoto's gun-light illuminated another wood placard on the door. "At night I come without being called, at day I am lost without being stolen."

Akira tapped his foot against the ground as he thought. "The moon?"

The upperclassman in riding leathers shook her head. "The moon appears in the sky during the day, especially as it approaches the new moon phase."

Ryuji took in a sharp breath. "I got it! Bats!"

Yusuke tapped his fingers along the handle of his sheathed katana. "Comets and meteors are most visible at night, but likewise can appear during the day if the conditions are right."

Adjusting his grip on his sub-machine gun, Akira wished he could just let his dangle on a strap like Ryuji's or Yusuke's. "Energy?"

"No, the coming and stolen parts make me think it's something more concrete," Makoto said. She pursed her lips. "Stars!" A clunk reverberated, and she pushed the door open without problem.

The Phantom Thieves advanced over another covered walkway that meandered over a foggy swamp, crossing over uncovered paneled wood paths shrouded by mist. A castle-like building with walls of enormous stones loomed before them. Good-luck talismans and spears dotted the wall in no particular pattern.

Morgana came to a stop in front of the next door. The lettering painted above proclaimed Hall of NHK. "I am without value if bought, yet often traded. I can be given by a pauper as easily as a king, but if I am broken, pain is assured."

Ryuji scratched at his scalp. "Rgh. What is it with this dumb Palace? That ain't even good meter."

Ann rolled her eyes. "Like you're a poet critic, Reaper."

"Honor?" ventured Yusuke.

Makoto shook her head. "I don't think honor can be traded. And I doubt that a king would give honor easily."

"If I am broken, pain is assured." Futaba's lips pressed together for a beat. "Promise." A wood clunk reverberated under the walkway before the door slid away, and the thieves passed inside. A covered court big enough to hold all of Shujin stretched out before them, but at least lights blazed from the ceiling. Like the Hall of Offering, exhibits dotted the court like a formal museum. Most were made of mannequins, with a tall flatscreen proclaiming Togo Mitsuyo's beauty or greatness, though some were acted out with cognitions. The vast majority seemed ordinary days, but one stood on an elevated platform of polished wood planks. A glass-enclosed Mitsuyo mannequin clenched the front of her skirt with both hands as if trying to force it lower. As soon as Akira stepped close, the flatscreen next to it flared to life.

Shibuya, NHK Broadcasting Center
Saturday, 20 March 1999

Togo Mitsuyo swallowed and smoothed out her silk blouse. While she'd passed the probationary period of her employment with NHK, she had yet to make a name for herself with anyone significant. Her assignment to entertainment landed her a rich man with Togo Shinpei, but his little comfort couldn't quench her need to make something of herself. Catching men's eyes was easy, but someone as high up as Sugimura Morihiko, one of nine directors of the executive board, could catapult her to an anchor spot on NHK World, maybe even NHK General. Mitsuyo took in a deep breath and opened the door before her nerves could make her late.

The man's once brown hair had almost lost the battle to grey, and he wore a black silk suit with a violet pocket cloth. He looked up and smiled, wrinkles crinkling at the corners of his eyes. "Mitsuyo! My chief of human resources said he'd found a woman the cameras loved, but I had no idea she would be so beautiful." He stood and stepped around his desk.

Mitsuho stood before the desk and flashed a practiced smile. "I came to join the company family to become the face of NHK."

"And you've got the first qualification," Sugimura Morihiko said, laying a hand on her shoulder as he started a slow pace around her, his eyes tracing her chest and hips. It wasn't until that hand drifted down her back that she shot straight. "But there are so many… qualified ladies trying to become the face of NHK. I need to be sure you are… more qualified." His hand traced down her hip and cupped her butt.

She let out a gasp of surprise and tried to step away, but the chairs hemmed her in and his hand followed, even started to hike up her short pencil skirt. "D-director Sugimura-san! Thi-this is most irregu—"

"Irregular?" He roared, one hand grabbing her breast over her dress suit and shoving her against the bookshelf. His voice resumed, low and dangerous, "You've been at NHK for six months. And you think you deserve to jump the line all the way to daytime anchor?" His other hand pressed against her hip and posterior, more to keep her trapped against the shelves than to fondle her this time.

Mitsuyo struggled to push his clenching grab from her chest. "Su—Director! Please!"

His hand pinched so tight she thought she couldn't breathe for a moment. "Don't be stupid. Pleasing your betters is part of the job. You can either have a chance at life behind the camera at a real network, or you can never work in broadcast again."

Thursday, 11 August 2016
Afternoon
Togo's Temple, Hall of Interns

The thieves took a stumbling step back from the screen. Ann appeared to be still for a moment before Akira realized she was vibrating with rage, and Futaba clenched his longcoat. Makoto let her weapon drop to its strap and looked ready to vomit.

Even Ryuji brushed at his jacket as if to get off the dirty feel of the director's clenching hand. "Fuck! That sick pervert!"

A sonorous woman's voice came from behind them. "Have you thieves had your fill of traipsing through the price I had to pay to get ahead?" They spun about, where Shadow Togo stood, her leathery wings unfurled and eyes blazing gold. Six Shadows in Noh masks painted with tears and snarls ringed her. "Do you understand now what was stolen from me when shogi took my husband? When I had to leave that den of vipers to take a lesser woman's management job?"

Despite being grappled by a trembling hacker, Akira snarled, "You suffered that, and you're still pushing Hifumi through abuse and objectification?"

"Abuse?" she screeched at him, the other glass cases in the huge, covered court trembling. "All workers must pay to make their way, that is how the world is!"

A yellow bolt of plasma zipped into the sensuous demon-Shadow. Futaba straightened and adjusted her staff weapon. "That might be the way the world was. But it's everyone's responsibility to make society better than when they came into it. My mom was a scientist in a world where women were expected to get coffee and stay at home, but she knew she could expand mankind's understanding and she did it and let the men handle the coffee."

Shadow Togo's perfect teeth bared for a rumbling growl. "Liar. You insolent miscreants are wild monsters who need to be tamed. The great control, and the weak submit." She held out a hand and floated backwards, dissipating into dark fog.

The six Shadows surrounding her moved forward, spread into a broad line, and dropped into puddles of darkness.

AN: Futaba kept her code name, but there are numerous reasons why I changed her Persona. First is that her canon start Persona was the Necronomicon, which is a reference to Lovecraft's Call of Cthulu. Beyond Lovecraft being extremely racist, his story perpetuated not only racial disdain but a bitter misanthropy against all humans. Trauma in his childhood does not give him a free pass for that. The underlying theme that humans were too stupid, weak, and pathetic to be able to move beyond their worst goes against the entire theme of the Persona series that mankind can come together, rise above our petty nature, and surpass our fears and failures. That and the imagery of Futaba's summoning her Persona was tentacles abducting her, alluding to tentacle porn, which I will never hesitate to write out.

Almost all the other main characters' Personas (less Milady de Winter) referenced either historical or folkloric figures who fought against corruption, even to death. Marcus Drusus was one of Rome's great reformers, attempting to bring together the peoples as well as classes of the Italian peninsula before he was assassinated by wealthy competitors who didn't like his popularity and feared the loss of power his reforms would entail.

The scene with Mitsuyo and the elder Sugimura was based on The Lives of Others or Das Leben der Anderen, which is based on the frequent and abusive quid-pro-quo in the entertainment and communications industry. While enforcement has been improving, such sexual quid-pro-quo remains a part of the entertainment industry all over the world.