Author's Notes: Hello again, dear reader! Here's another chapter of the best P5 fic on the internet. If I were planning on stopping this baby at 50 chapters, then we're almost halfway there already. Hard to believe, isn't it? Will I get there? Will 50 be enough to cover all the incredible stuff I want to write? You'll have to follow along to find out.
First, some words to my awesome reviewers:
UltimateCCC: That he did, and it is glorious.
CrimsonDemon666: Out-of-the-box solutions are always a treat. Sure, people can throw fire or freeze things, but we've seen that here and in so many other places. Mix it up, I say, and it might take you to a murderous elevator car. How is that not cool? Thanks for the review!
See you all on December 7th.
And as per usual, do not replicate anything you see here. Akira is a trained professional and his antics should not be attempted at home.
Hand of the Dragon
Akira held himself together long enough to get back to Leblanc. Makoto-senpai and Yusuke escorted him and Morgana every step of the way back, introducing themselves to Sakura-san while Akira made it up the stairs before his body gave out. Trying to avoid making too much noise, he set Morgana on his fluffy bed, dragged his carcass to his own, and was out before he could take his shoes off. He awoke once in the night long enough to strip down and get under his covers, and then the next time he opened his eyes, it was raining and time to get up.
This was the part of the secret lifestyle that you didn't see in movies or manga.
He was well enough to get to school and pull through class. Ann gave him careful looks and informed him, "Ryuji stayed home today."
Akira asked, "How's he doing?"
"Not good. He was barely managing when I got him to his place, and when I texted him this morning he said he needed more rest. I don't think I've seen anyone like that before now."
"None of us have pushed ourselves that hard. Closest we've come was probably you with Carmen."
Her eyes went distant. "Yeah, I remember what that was like."
"Keep tabs on him. We don't want to miss it if he gets worse."
"I will."
"How about Senpai?"
"Still with me until we're sure things changed. She's talking to her sister regularly, but hopefully we hear about it soon; I know it's on her mind."
It was the next day when they got that update. Ryuji had dragged himself to school, looking pale and weak but stubbornly attending, and during lunch Akira got a text from a number he didn't recognize. Meet me after you're done school, and it gave an address of a location a few blocks from Shujin. He was about to write it off as spam or a prank, but Ann's phone vibrated a few seconds later. Her puzzled expression gave him pause.
"Does your phone say this?" he asked, showing her.
"Yeah, same wording and everything."
Their phones vibrated from a text sent to them by Senpai, then shortly after by Ryuji.
"They got the same thing," Akira commented, thinking. "And we were the four who ended up at Lotus. That's probably not a coincidence."
"Would they try something in broad daylight? I mean, they did with Senpai, but who goes with the same trick twice? And they'd have to know we'd be ready for them."
"That might be exactly why they're setting it up this way. Let's all go together so there're no surprises." Akira sent texts to Ryuji and Makoto-senpai to inform them of the plan, then informed Yusuke just in case. They met at the front doors and went out together, dodging the students who were running through the rain or hanging around under their umbrellas. The Thieves went to the provided address, the boys watching every corner and the girls close to make sure no one snuck up on them.
The location was an alley, out of the way and a good distance from the main foot traffic thoroughfares. Standing there was a familiar guy in a flashy shirt.
"Yo. Thanks for coming."
Senpai stiffened. "What do you want?"
"Business, but not like last time, missy. The boss wanted us to tell you, in person, that your debt's been cleared and the pictures we took are gone. You've got a clean slate."
Senpai was visibly surprised, and the others played it up convincingly.
Akira asked, "This is unexpected, especially for your organization. What's the catch?"
"No catch. The boss changed his mind, that's all."
"Just with us?" Ann inquired.
"There are others. You'll understand if I don't go into the details."
"We're just glad it's come to this," Makoto-senpai put in. "Everything is above board?"
"As above as it comes, missy."
"Then this concludes our business. Excuse us, we have to be going." She, Ann and Ryuji left.
The guy whistled. "Real little firecracker, that one. Kind of a shame."
Akira stepped up. "Before you go, two things. One, I have a question about her."
"Hm? What do you think I know about her, kid? Seems like your business more than mine, doesn't it?"
Akira ignored the jab. "Your plan to kidnap her. Who came up with it?"
"Why?"
"Because the story I'm going off of is that she went to meet someone and you guys happened to be there to grab her. But that doesn't fit. Too many things had to work perfectly for it to not have been a planned ambush."
He smirked. "Hm. You're sharp, kid. Want a job?"
"Absolutely not."
"Had to try; good help is hard to find."
"So?"
"So, you should be looking for the rat she went to meet, not me. Iida, that's his name. He called us, said there was someone trying to help him get out of his deal. That happened the same night that some of our merch went missing, so we gave him a chance – gotta make the money somehow, right? That's who set her up."
Akira went cold. "You're kidding."
The guy brought up his phone and showed the screen. "See? Here's the number where I first talked to him, then here's where he reached out to me with the news, and here's where he called later to tell us where and when. He wanted to set up the meeting to lower the amount he owed the boss."
"Did he know what you had in mind?"
"It wasn't a short conversation, and I didn't go out of my way to hide it."
Akira's hands clenched into fists. "He actually went that far…"
"All the way, kid. He said he convinced her to come meet him and we could take it from there. It was his idea, and he spat it out fast like it was the first thing on his mind. Turned out she didn't know anything about our goods, but then the boss learned who she was and… well, you were there. The whole thing was Iida's idea first, not ours." The guy chuckled coldly. "Fat lot of good it did him. We didn't get what we wanted, so his price barely went down at all. He begged for the chance to do more for us, the little puke."
"You sound like you hate him. Is that why you're telling me this?"
"I loathe snitches. Nothing's lower than selling someone out. We do some odd stuff in my line of work, but we'd never roll over on each other. If you're in a bind, don't ever turn on your own people. Take it like a man. This kid? He's filth."
"Thanks for telling me."
"Steer clear of him."
"I might do more than that. My second question: where's Miya-san?"
"Who?"
"You call her Gina," Akira clarified. "Your boss was sentencing her when we were brought in."
His smile went dark. "Ah. Yeah."
"Where did she end up?"'
"What do you care?"
"Because I care. It's none of your business why."
"Got a thing for girls with tits, kid? Not that I blame you, but I thought you were sniffing after the leggy class president."
Akira's eyes narrowed. "Never mind why I'm asking. Where is she?"
"You're pushy, you know that? Well, it's none of my business. The boss had her sent away to be 'retrained' after her little stunt. Not the worst punishment he could've given her, but not one I'd want, either." He wrote a number on a card. "Here's the address, if you care so much."
"Thanks. Let's make sure we never meet again."
"Kid, you and me both. You're too wholesome for my taste."
7 7 7
Life hurt. That was a lesson Gina knew well. She had to hurt to get faster at swimming, had to push herself if she wanted better marks, had to be better if she wanted into locks or pockets without getting backhanded or arrested. Nothing came easy.
But anything she'd been through before was nothing, not even the smallest speck of dirt on a tree at the base on Mt. Fuji, compared to what she felt now. Crumpled in the rain, she could feel her heartbeat through the whole of her torso and down to her feet and fingertips – all her bruises ran together.
Only she wasn't bruised. The boss's guys knew how to hurt girls without leaving a mark, so they'd put bars of soap into socks and armed themselves with rolled-up phone books, pulled her out flat on a table, and went to work on her arms, legs and midsection. First the girls got to vent their spite and bitchiness on her – and there was always a lot of both – and then the guys got their turn. Between thrashing in pain and failing to get free, Gina could vaguely gauge who she was afraid of more. Guys, hands down. Women pretended they could match men physically, but the biggest, most malicious sow on the planet had nothing on a man drunk and high and eager to prove himself to the boss. Everything but her face and her boobs was fair game. They'd tied her up so the guys holding her could have their turns. They'd gagged her so her begging and screams wouldn't distract them. They'd tattooed her left arm, a brand as a reminder. She hadn't found the energy to look at it yet. Waterboarding was next, they'd been so happy to inform her, and the notion of reflexively trying to not drown with her body in this much pain had sent her bucking, kicking, doing everything to break free and get away.
It hadn't worked.
Then something changed. Rather than her 'lessons' escalating, people were talking about the boss and saying crazy things, like how he'd changed his mind about the blackmail scam and the prostitution rackets. None of it made sense to her, but when she moved just a bit, they grabbed her arms and legs and hurled her out into the back alley to be soaked by the rain. A few others went out to make sure she didn't crawl for help, smoking and drinking and kicking her every so often while they waited for more information.
Gina sank into the cement of the streets. This was familiar. It was even welcome, taking her back to better times.
She'd been a mess when she ran into the streets. Alone, traumatized by what Kamoshida did to her, caught up in her own head and full to the brim with crazy, she'd run until she didn't know where she was, understanding now that she'd ended up in the worst part of the Tokyo underground.
She'd been chased around and abused, raped and beaten, and would have ended it with the next broken bottle or box cutter she found if not for Kamei-san, a locksmith turned lock breaker who got caught, convicted and cast out, and Fujino-san, a woman of classier means who'd been forced into prostitution. Those weren't their real names, but that had been the first lesson – never give anyone power over you. That started with a false identity.
They had taken her in. They were her foundation stones in the world she'd been relegated to, stable and welcoming and ready with gallows humor to hold off the darkness for another day. They were her mentors in surviving the streets. Kamei-san taught her situational awareness and the gift of the gab, how to pick both pockets and locks, while Fujino-san showed her how to do so much more with whatever she had. A change of clothes and a bit of make-up could transform her into a head-turner, she'd learned, while the simplest changes to her body language and movements made her so bland that no one would have noticed her in a three-person lineup. They heard her stories and shared a few of their own, like how Kamei-san's brother-in-law was in the same business and failed at it right as he got caught and how Fujino-san's husband had infuriated someone he'd gone to university with – who Gina now knew was the boss himself – and she'd lost everything overnight, still looking up at destitute.
Three outcasts come together to make it in an uncaring world. It was normal. Even under the boss's thumb, it had become wonderful.
Which was why those times couldn't last.
Fujino-san had owed more than her fading looks could bring in, and when she'd offered to find money some other way, it was the last Gina had ever heard from her. Gina held out hope for months, believing that the cunning woman was still around, was just working her way through a new angle or, impossibly, that she'd gotten free. But the boss's guys had shared the news that she'd been caught going for information leaked on purpose to weed out spies. Fujino-san never came back.
Kamei-san had been Gina's rock after that, and he'd stepped up her lessons and hardened her to survive on the streets. "I'll be around a good long time," he'd promised, "but no one notices an old man sleeping in the garbage. You're young and pretty, which makes you a walking target. So pick this up fast, you hear?"
She had, and he'd taught her everything he knew. She could talk on her feet about any subject, she watched for the smallest bits of body language to read someone, she learned to change her mannerisms on the fly to fit any background or setting, and she became skilled enough to pick pockets and take apart locks with the best of them, which meant she was almost as proficient as Kamei-san. He acknowledged her skills quietly and kept pushing her. Things righted themselves again.
Then a few weeks later, Kamei-san got jobs from one of the boss's lieutenants, showed up the other lock breakers, and was given a drink spiked with something so potent he went into convulsions right there on the guy's floor, foaming at the mouth and seizing up until his heart gave out.
Gina hadn't cried then. She knew she should, knew she was alone, but instead focused on making her teachers proud by moving forward and using everything they'd taught her. She wouldn't go out like that. She would survive.
She laughed brokenly at the memory, tears mixing with the rain. Happiness hurt. She'd fouled up big, but at least she was going cold now. It didn't hurt quite so much anymore.
A cat meowed nearby, loudly and over and over. This was the only one who cared, someone's pet who couldn't talk.
Footsteps rushed around the corner. "There she is. Yusuke, she's over here! Miya-san!"
A name from so long ago. Her deepest secret.
"Miya-san, are you okay?"
Was… that Glasses-kun? Was he talking to her? She couldn't see him, and she hurt too much to look.
"Beat it, kid," one of Gina's abusers growled. "She's not done with her debt yet."
"Your boss is wiping out everyone's debts," Glasses-kun fired back. "That includes hers. She's leaving this place behind."
Was that true? Was that what the guys had been talking about?
"Oh really?"
"Yes," someone new said, cool and steady. "She is free now. You should find a way to benefit from this, for your own sakes. We're taking her away from this place"
"You and what army, kid? That broom you're holding?"
There was the swift, loud snapping of wood. "Not just a broom now, is it?"
"C'mere, guys! We've got some lively ones!"
Fighting started. Gina knew enough to curl up and seem smaller, but she got stepped on and tripped over a few times. The boots doing it felt familiar, and some distant part of her was happy to get in the way of the people who'd hurt her. Mostly she was just glad she wasn't part of the brawl.
Because that's what it was. There were swings and grunts of impact of guys punching and kicking, someone getting slammed into a business door shutter over and over, and the broom handle was getting a lot of use as… what? A spear? A sword? Either way, the right people were being hurt.
It took forever for the noise to stop, or maybe it was no time at all. One side won and the other made tracks, accompanied by grunts and curses and a slammed door. Then a gentle hand was on her cheek. "Miya-san? Can you hear me?"
After so much abuse, she flinched from the warm skin on contact. It came back even softer, brushing her hair back. She shivered but controlled her reactions enough to open her eyes, looking blearily through the pain and the rain. "Is that… really you… Glasses-kun?"
"Yeah, it's me. You look bad. Can you stand?"
She shifted, but even that little bit of movement made her middle flare up in so much pain that she crumpled in on herself.
"Okay. Brace yourself, all right? I'm going to lift you so we can get you out of here."
Careful arms went under her back and knees, lifting her softly and adjusting her as little as possible. Every jostle went through her muscles like fire, but the warmth of human contact that wasn't hostile, lecherous or contemptuous made it past her soaked skin and clothes to seep into her. Her arms went around him instinctively. He was stronger than she thought.
"Got it?" he asked.
She shifted closer and nodded.
"We should go," the other person said, voice deep and serious. "They won't take this well."
"Agreed." They started moving, carefully to not move Gina too much. They were on the streets soon enough – she could hear the passing traffic. "Here, let me grab my phone." Glasses-kun moved around, tapped something, then said, "Hold it to my ear. I don't think she wants to let go."
Gina shook her head and burrowed in closer. She could hear the phone ringing.
"It's all right. Now, if she would just pick– Takemi-sensei? It's me. You said to call if I needed help, right? Well, I've got someone who does. Her name is Miya Gina. She's been hurt but I don't know the details. Can you talk to her? All right. Here," Glasses-kun told Gina. "Take the phone. There's someone who needs to talk to you."
Gina shakily followed the instructions, struggling to push the words out. "Hello?"
"Miya-san?" a woman asked, her voice low and her tone focused. "This is Takemi Tae. Are you with the idiot who just called me? Glasses and messy hair and a beautiful cat?"
"His… glasses aren't there. But he… did have them."
"Good. Now, please listen. I'm a doctor. That guy is going to bring you to me, so I need you to tell me what happened to you, all right?"
"Why?"
"Because we're going to help you."
It wasn't the first time Gina had heard that. Girls fell for that trick a lot, especially when they were desperate. She had. And the sincere guys were always looking to save the damsel in distress, fix the broken girl who just needed a chance. It was the easiest thread to pull on, and she'd done it plenty for money or favors or more. They were just words.
But now that combination of syllables meant something. It was real as she was being carried away from the places she hated and the people who owned her. The frailest glimmer of hope, given to her by Kokkuri-san and thought snuffed out after everything the boss– no, Kaneshiro, had done to her, cracked through the calluses and pain. Gina asked shakily, "You're here… to help?"
Glasses-kun looked down at her, carrying her so carefully, and nodded. "Yeah, we got you. Kaneshiro's falling apart, so you're safe now."
The cracks widened and fell in, letting that glimmer grow and suffuse her. She couldn't suppress her reactions – didn't have to anymore. Safe. SAFE. It was real and she was in its arms and–
–she broke apart. Still on the line with the doctor who promised help, she clung to the boy who'd bought her freedom with violence and blood, and cried. She was nearly dumped to the street as she curled around him, but she didn't care. Everything from her naiveté that led to Kamoshida cornering her, her 'friends' who pretended not to know what she meant when the abuses started or who called her a liar when she reached out, fleeing to the streets and every shameful thing she'd done since, it all came up at once.
She wept until she was a runny, dribbling mess. She cried until she was hiccupping and sick.
But it was okay now.
Because she was safe.
7 7 7
Akira hadn't known before now how much he could hurt. Fighting Shadows 'over there' meant having the protection of a Persona, and the hits he took and the aftermath in the real world were buffered in some way, he was sure, or he'd be dead or a lot worse off. But the injuries from hitting Kaneshiro's Palace, the sickness he'd pushed himself past which still clogged him up, the wear on his body from Morgana healing him after the elevator, and even the bone-deep tingles from amping himself up all stacked on a real-world beating that was making itself known loud and clear.
It had been great in the moment. Outnumbered but set on saving Miya-san, the raw danger posed by actual people and no supernatural speed or defenses to rely on, the messy brawl the fight immediately devolved into against guys bigger than him and too high to go down quick, the close quarters that made him adapt and power through, it was the biggest adrenaline dump of his life, the highest he'd ever flown. Winning had made him feel like a god before the masses.
Except his chemical candy was wearing off, and now he was really feeling it. From the ache in his muscles from carrying Gina-san all the way here to Takemi-sensei's clinic to the new hits he'd taken and the throbbing in his forearms and fists, knee and elbows from giving back twice as hard, there wasn't a position he could move to that didn't hurt, and none of them hurt any less than where he was now, in pain and dripping water onto the floor and waiting in a chair. Even the air conditioning was painful. Cold air on bruises should have helped keep the swelling down, but instead it made the split on his lip and the swelling that was closing his eye throb harder. It made his soaked clothes cling to him, sent him into the shivers, which made everything even worse.
It was official. This was what it felt like when his tank was empty.
He was in the right place, though. As soon as he walked through the clinic door, Takemi-sensei had him bring Miya-san to a bed in one of the rooms in the back. She tossed him a cold compress and said, "Have a seat until I can see you." Then she shut the door in his face.
There was that legendary bedside manner of hers again. But it could be worse.
It could be Senpai, whom Yusuke had called en route and who now mothered over them.
"You took on how many guys again?" she asked, using alcohol on a cloth to dab at Akira's fat lip, scraped cheek, and the teeth-shaped imprint on his elbow. His gouged and bloody knuckles stung the most.
Yusuke was against the wall across from them, watching and ready to help. He'd been smart to arm himself, and his proficiency with something sword shaped hadn't been restricted to fighting 'over there.' None of the blood on his shirt, spattered and running red from the rain, was his, and only twice had anyone gotten close enough to get a punch or kick in.
"Not enough," Akira mumbled, stroking Morgana where the cat lay in his bag. The clinic was empty, thankfully, so he didn't mind giving his partner his due. It was his sharp nose, even through the rain, that had gotten them to Miya-san.
Senpai went on. "You know what a risk that was, right? I'm not trying to lecture you–"
"Funny, you're succeeding perfectly."
"–but while it was a great thing you did for Miya-san, it was also dangerous. I mean, those were grown men you were fighting. And getting information from that guy? He had to know you'd go after her if you asked him."
"I'm sure he did. Those guys were definitely waiting for us, too." He laughed past the throbbing. "Too bad there weren't enough."
Yusuke's answering chuckle was equally grim and satisfied.
Senpai continued, "All the trouble you've had in the last few days and then you do this? We're not 'over there,' you know. You're flesh and blood, and by every metric that fight should have gone very differently."
"With respect," Yusuke answered, "we couldn't risk letting Miya-san be taken anywhere else. It was clear from going there that she didn't have much time left. Kaneshiro's organization is in disarray now; loose ends disappearing wouldn't be noticed at all. There wasn't a better option."
"And I brought backup this time," Akira added with enthusiasm. "Yusuke was great; you should see what he can do with a broom handle. If Ryuji was in better shape, I'd have called him, too."
She shook her head. "It's good to see that you can learn. But why didn't you call me before you got into a fight?"
"As you said," Yusuke pointed out, "we're not 'over there.' You wouldn't have Johanna to draw on, and from how tight the alley was and how much force we needed to put those men down, you wouldn't have been able to help us much."
She looked back and forth between them, gauging their differences in build and muscle mass against her own, and sighed. "All right. I'm not happy that you're hurt, but good job saving her. That was brave of you two, and now she's where she needs to be."
Akira sank back in his chair. "At least we got one of them."
She nodded and patted him on the knee. It was the knee that didn't hurt from catching someone's head against a wall.
Akira was switching sides on the compress when Takemi-sensei came out of the back. "She's sleeping now," she stated when Makoto-senpai rose and Yusuke moved off the wall. Akira didn't have it in him to try getting up yet. "She'll need rest and some serious care."
"Can you tell us what's wrong with her?" Makoto-senpai asked.
"Doctor-patient confidentiality prohibits me from doing so, even if you are the ones who brought her here. She's been through a lot, though, and it's been going on for years."
Akira grimaced. "I suspected that."
"Is she who you were talking about?"
"Yeah."
"I can see why you'd do this. It's good that you did. I think this is the first time someone's reached out to her in a long time."
Akira struggled to his feet. "Will you help her?"
"As much as possible. I can handle the physical stuff, and I'll reach out to some people I know for the rest. They're good, but it's going to come down to how tough she is."
"Then she'll be okay. She's strong and smart."
"I hope you're right. No one deserves to go through that, even if it happens all the time." Takemi-sensei grimaced. "I hate to bring this up, but she won't be a cheap fix. She'll need time and resources, and I only have so much space here. That's going to be a steep bill."
"I'll talk to some people and we'll come up with something."
"Good. I'll do what I can to keep the costs down."
"Thanks, Takemi-sensei. You're the best doctor I know."
She tapped her clipboard on her shoulder, eyebrow raised. "Do you know many? If you end up like this regularly, then you might be acquainted with more than I am."
Akira laughed, even though it hurt. "This is a new thing. But seriously, you're a credit to the profession."
Makoto-senpai bowed. "I agree, Sensei. Not many would take us on such short notice and under these circumstances."
"Well, when this idiot calls my emergency line, I have to think something's come up. Good to know you didn't waste my time."
Makoto-senpai gestured to the door. "Could I see her for a minute?"
"I can't allow that yet."
"Then could I get your business card? I feel like Miya-san should make a statement to the police – the authorities can help her get back on her feet and reconnect her with her family, if she has one. My sister is in the criminal justice system. Could she contact you to arrange for someone to see Miya-san? I don't want her to fall through the cracks again."
It went unsaid that the police might be needed if anyone got the idea to come and retrieve their 'property.'
Takemi-sensei looked at her, then nodded. "All right, I can do that. You've got a good head on your shoulders, understanding that that's the world we live in."
"I'll do what I can to help her."
Takemi-sensei gave Senpai her contact information, then waved Akira over. "Come on, let's look at what you've done to yourself."
"It's not that bad," he said reflexively.
Takemi-sensei raised an eyebrow. "You do realize that I'm not blind, don't you?"
"Sorry. Yes, it's pretty bad."
"Good boy. Honesty will get you a lot further in life, especially since I know how to make it hurt."
He grit his way through her examination that felt harsher than a normal check over. She wasn't lying. He was holding himself up on the wall by the end of it, and the other two stayed a respectable distance away, no doubt taking notes on avoiding future injuries and their own subsequent 'gentle' treatment.
"Not that bad after all," she drawled. "Nothing's broken, but you can thank your thick skull for that. You'll have a hard time breathing for a while – that's your cracked ribs, and it feels like you've taken some hits there before. Gym class must be tough. Your bruises will heal on their own, but you're going to have to ease off on any heavy lifting or strenuous exercise. You're also going to look terrible for a while, but there's no helping that. You'll need to sterilize your cuts before you go to sleep and after you wake up. It doesn't seem like you'll need stitches. I'm going to get you a few light meds for the pain and the swelling, but that's it. I don't want you getting hooked on something stronger – it would just make you feel like you could do this again. And you'll have to explain how you look to Sakura-san yourself. I'm not going to cover for you."
"I wouldn't ask you to. Thanks again for seeing us on such short notice, Sensei. Morgana will be waiting for you the next time you come to Leblanc."
"I look forward to it." She looked over at Yusuke. "You're next. You look like you walked through a slaughterhouse."
"The looks are the worst of it, Sensei," he replied, "but I will defer to your expertise."
"That's the correct answer." She went over Yusuke with the same dedication, but had far less to say. "You're fine," she concluded. "Your bruises should clear up in a few days. It's like night and day between you and this idiot."
"Things just turned out that way," Akira replied.
"Well, give those things a rest for a while. You're not a superhero."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good. Now, excuse me. You've made a mess of my floor."
The three left, getting odd looks from the passersby as soon as they exited. Akira chuckled in spite of his injuries. "We must look pretty bad."
Yusuke looked at his shirt and frowned. "Yes. I hadn't thought of it until now. I hope this will come out."
"Try hydrogen peroxide and cold water first," Makoto-senpai answered automatically. "After that you might need to get creative."
"Thank you."
"I need to call Sis," she went on. "If she can get someone down here to look after Miya-san, sooner would be better." She pulled out her phone and made the call, turning away to speak privately. It seemed to go well and she hung up shortly after, but pursed her lips in thought. "Strange. It was like she was hoping for someone to crop up. She almost said Kaneshiro's name, too; she must think he's still watching me."
Akira turned to her. "Can she help?"
"She said she'd get right on it. It sounded like she was flipping through names as I was talking to her."
"Could she do something about the bags of evidence you two recovered?" Yusuke asked.
"She'd certainly try. Or she'd find someone who could."
"Then I will get the location and key to the locker to her. I'd be far more comfortable without any connection to illegal contraband."
"Let me know if you need an alibi," Senpai stated. "It shouldn't come up, but just in case."
"I will, and thank you."
"Speaking of an alibi, I need a favor from you two," Akira put in. "There's no way Sakura-san won't hit the roof when he sees me. Can you come with me and talk him down?"
"That seems reasonable," Yusuke replied. "We did bring you back the other day and he seemed amenable to us. Perhaps we will manage again."
Makoto-senpai nodded, and they went to Leblanc.
Sakura-san didn't react in quite the way Akira predicted, but it wasn't far off. Between Akira looking like he did and Yusuke's shirt that was more red than white, they were quite a scene to come through the door. Makoto-senpai, bless her, talked fast with the authority of someone used to getting ideas across to adults. Sakura-san was suspicious at first, but became a bit less so by the end of her explanation, which involved a deliberately vague 'side errand that just happened to go wrong.'
"You're the two who brought him here before," Sakura-san acknowledged when she was done. "Thanks again for that; it's not up to you to bring this idiot home."
Akira bit back a smart remark.
"And you," Sakura-san went on, looking at his charge. "Is this what you meant by having something else going on?"
"That's right."
"Is it tied to what we talked about?"
"No, Sakura-san. This is different. But I don't have any plans to get into trouble again."
"So you've been doing all this on purpose?"
Akira hedged, "It's how things turned out."
"I don't know how you could get any worse than this and not end up needing surgery, kid. Those are bruises from a fight. Have you seen a doctor?"
"I just came from Takemi-sensei. My friends can confirm that."
Senpai and Yusuke nodded.
Sakura-san grumbled a bit, but threw his towel over his shoulder. "All right. Get upstairs and get some rest. You're scaring off my customers and making a mess of my floor."
Akira and Yusuke shared a smile.
"And you two," he went on with Yusuke and Senpai, "sit down. This is the second time you've helped him so the least I can do is treat you to a meal."
"Oh, we couldn't, sir," Makoto-senpai said instantly.
"Sakura-san makes the best curry in the city," Akira informed her. "It's worth trying at least once, and then every time after because you can't get enough."
"Really?" Yusuke sat down. "It's been so long since I've had good curry. One for me please, sir."
Makoto-senpai followed suit, hesitantly saying, "Well, if you're offering."
Sakura-san smiled. "For a lady? Always."
"All right. Then I'll take a small dish and a coffee. And could I get a curry to go? I have a friend who would appreciate it for dinner."
Akira limped up the stairs, a morbidly familiar feeling now as he used the wall to support his weight. Morgana bounded out of his bag and got out from underfoot, and Akira made it to his bed to rest.
Sleep didn't come as quickly as usual, though. His mind turned not just from Miya-san's situation, but also from the other bit of information he'd gotten.
There was one last loose end to tie up.
7 7 7
That meant an accomplice. Akira knew what he wanted to do, so he also knew he needed help doing it. He texted Ryuji that night and met with him early before school, pushing past his pain to beat the Friday crowds and wait in the rain. Ryuji looked dour as he limped up, greeting Akira with a curt, "Sup?"
"Want to get some payback?" Akira offered. He outlined what he'd learned and put that together with what they'd seen and gone through. Ryuji nodded and glowered the deeper the explanation went.
Akira concluded with, "Which is why I need some help. Are you in?"
"No."
Akira was taken aback. "What?"
Ryuji elaborated hotly, "I ain't interested. Ditchin' me before and runnin' off to save a girl? Were you gonna call me at all?"
"Are you serious? You were in such bad shape that you needed an extra day to even walk, Ryuji. You still look like hell. Yusuke and I had to take on real people to get Miya-san out of there. Remember how Kaneshiro's guys got us at Lotus? Would you want that in your condition?"
"So yer a fuckin' nurse now?"
"No, I'm your friend, which means I'm not risking your health."
"But you'll risk yer own?"
"Yeah, because it was important. Same as you did for us."
"Was that yer reason fer leavin' me behind the first time?"
Akira sighed. "I'm sorry I did that, but I had my reasons. It wasn't because of you or anyone else – I needed to move as quickly and quietly as possible. We didn't have any time, and how would it have looked if we'd all ditched school? Remember how we had to be careful with Kamoshida?"
"Yeah, and I also remember it bein' discussed between all of us."
"Consider me reprimanded. I won't do it again, I promise."
Ryuji chuffed, "Yeah, I bet."
Akira's temper frayed. "Look, this little shit is the reason Makoto-senpai got jumped. He's why we were dragged in front of Kaneshiro. Think of what could have happened to you or her or Ann if things had gone a little differently."
"I ain't thinkin' about either of 'em."
Akira's eyes narrowed. "Is this about Queen?"
Ryuji jerked in place.
"What's going on?"
"Don't ask."
"I just did. Talk to me."
"Pound sand, ya hear me? I said I ain't interested, so ask Morgana for help or do it yerself."
"Is it because she's a powerhouse? Or is it your leg?"
Ryuji glared bloody murder at him.
"What's wrong? If you're hurt–"
"Ain't yer problem."
"I know a doctor, Ryuji. She can help you, and if your leg is worse, we can't leave it–"
"I told you to fuck off! Mind yer own fuckin' business!"
Akira glared back. "Fine. Just remember that I talked to you first. Don't cry afterward that you didn't get the offer."
Ryuji stormed off, limping more than usual. Akira swore under his breath. "Morgana, you were looking after him in that fight. Is he going to be okay?"
The cat squirmed out of the bag. "He was worse than anyone I've ever worked on before. He put so much of himself in that blast that I wasn't sure if his heart would keep beating."
Akira considered the boosted endurance, strength and healing abilities that being 'over there' granted them. "Damn. He was that bad?"
"Like I said, the worst I've ever seen. He's going to need a lot of time and rest to recover."
"What about his leg? Was that part of it?"
"Yes, but that's his story to tell, not mine."
"Then this gets worse?"
"Yes. That's all I'll say."
Akira let out a breath. "All right. Thanks for telling me. I'll keep an eye on him, even if I know that'll make him angry."
"We have to do it for our friends."
"Agreed."
But as Akira continued the trip to school, he appreciated that this left him without help. He couldn't go to Ann or Makoto-senpai – the first didn't have a direct stake in it and the second wouldn't understand – and he didn't know anyone in the student body or the faculty who would even consider helping him. Yusuke couldn't be here during school hours, and Morgana didn't have thumbs.
He noticed that people were staring at his bruises and scrapes and giving him a wide berth. He glanced at them with something close to contempt when he caught sight of a girl in a familiar pink cardigan. Okumura-senpai was talking to people and giggling behind a hand, but when she saw him she waved and came over under her yellow umbrella that had white sparrow designs flitting across it.
When her friends saw him, they didn't come one step closer.
"Good morning, Kurusu-kun!" Okumura-senpai greeted. "How are… Goodness, what happened to you?"
"Good morning, Okumura-senpai. I'm fine; you should see the other guys."
She tilted her head, puzzled. "Are they here?"
"Who?"
"The other guys."
"No, that's just an expression. Don't worry, this looks worse than it is."
"Oh. Well, if you're sure. Do you need any help? Maybe an ice patch?"
"I have some, thanks."
"Well, if that changes, let me know. You're a fellow student and a nice person."
"Thanks, Senpai. Not everyone thinks so."
She shrugged. "They're wrong. If I can help, I will. Just ask."
Akira chuckled dryly and took a shot in the dark. "You wouldn't happen to know anyone in the A/V club, would you?"
"I think I know some people who do. Why?"
"Can you keep a secret?"
"Of course."
"Walk with me. We'll talk."
It didn't take long to outline his idea, even in the vague terms necessary to avoid any accountability. She listened, nodded and kept her questions until the end, and seemed to catch on a lot faster than her fluffy, cinnamon roll personality let on. Her smile was bubbly but became just a little sly. She told him, "Give me your number so I can make some arrangements. No, just on paper. I'll destroy it later."
"Don't you have a phone?"
"Daddy doesn't approve of me having it at school. Now, you want to do this today?"
"Yes."
"Then go ahead with your plans. I'll make sure you're covered."
She sounded solid. For some reason, Akira felt better already. "Thanks, Senpai. I owe you."
"We can discuss that at a later time, Kurusu-kun. Go to class and I'll get to work."
Akira did that. A ring of people avoided him as he moved. The whispers started up again, this time speculating about the source of his bruises. In very short order, there were four different stories from people who claimed to have heard it from a person who was there. The most pedestrian was that he'd beaten down a motorcycle gang for making too much noise while the most inventive was that he'd gotten scuffed up fighting through a mass of otaku for a limited-time product launch at Akihabara Electric Town. Those different stories being shared and heard in the same group of people didn't give anyone a second of pause.
Akira ignored them, but at least their stories were entertaining.
He eased into his seat, and when Ann came in she paused as she took her seat. "Makoto-senpai filled me in. She said you took some hits," she commented as she sat down in front of him, "but I didn't expect it to be this bad. Did you and Yusuke take on every thug in Shibuya or something?"
"If you believe some of these idiots, it was Shibuya, Shinjuku, Akasaka and Daikanyama, too."
"Does he look as bad as you do?"
"No, he used something other than his fists."
She read between the lines. "I'm glad you called for backup first, but Ryuji's not happy with you."
"I know. I talked to him this morning."
Ann nodded, then looked over pensively. "Would Takemi-sensei let us see Miya-san?"
"Probably depends on her condition."
"Makoto-senpai and I are talking about getting her a care package, things she can use and maybe some snacks. I can't imagine the food at the clinic is very tasty."
"Good idea. She likes mint chocolate chip soft cream, or at least that's what she had when I met her. Maybe that's a place to start. Let me know what it'll cost and I'll pitch in – I wouldn't be much help buying her girl stuff."
Ann chuckled. "Typical guy. I'll talk to Senpai about it."
"Sounds good, and thanks for doing that. I feel like Miya-san needs the support."
Class started then and school went on as usual. Akira took the notes and answered the questions – finals were coming up and he intended to improve his already good grades – but in the break between first period and second, he got a call on his phone.
"Hello?"
An unknown male spoke. "I got this number from a friend of an acquaintance. You're asking about the A/V club?"
"Yes, thanks for contacting me. Here's what I need." Akira spoke fast and quiet, looking out the window to avoid attention as he generally outlined what he needed. "Can you do it?"
"It's possible. I'll get the keys and a few other things right at lunch. It's good that the rain's easing off; that will help you."
"I noticed that too."
"Please understand that we never had this conversation. I'll be erasing this number from my call logs as soon as things start, and if you're found with my number, I have no idea who you are."
"I'll do the same. What do I owe you?"
"That's been covered already."
"Then I appreciate it." Akira hung up and put his ideas together. His knuckles itched as he went over everything again and again, and by lunch he was ready. He ate his food in silence, got the text, then grabbed his stuff and set off, putting his glasses away and setting his phone in his breast pocket before finding the guy he was looking for off the main hallway with some other students. "Iida! Good afternoon!"
The student in question straightened, surprised and immediately suspicious. "What do you want Kurusu?"
"To check in on you." Akira's voice was intentionally too friendly. "You've been off your game the last little while. Test nerves, I get it. So, how're things?"
"Fine."
"That's it?"
"Yes. Was that your only question?"
Akira grinned, feeding on his own pain as he leaned in close. "Not at all. You and I need to have a talk."
"I have nothing to say to you."
"But you do. It's about that matter Niijima-senpai and I were looking into for you."
Iida went pale. A nearby second-year student interjected. "What's this about?"
Akira glanced over, not phased in the least. "It's between me and him. I don't think he'd like it if someone else got involved."
"I'm Nishiyama. I've been his friend for a long time, so anything to do with him, I want to know."
"He already knows what you're talking to me about," Iida added.
Akira asked, "So you want him in on this?"
"Yes, but there's nothing to discuss."
"Actually, there is. Because it doesn't stop with you taking that job, does it?"
Iida trembled, then looked around. "I… I don't know what you mean."
"Yes you do, and we're going to talk about it. Privately, or I start screaming it, out loud, over and over, right here. In three, two, o–"
"All right! All right. Let's get this over with."
"I'll come with you," Nishiyama stated.
Akira shrugged. "Suit yourself. It won't change what I have to say. Let's go somewhere private."
Akira led the way, checking a few times to make sure the two were following him and didn't make a run for it. He led them up the stairs to the roof, stopping at the chains and lock still on the door handles.
"Hm," Iida noted quickly. "Can't go this way. Too bad, but–"
Akira opened the lock and yanked the chains off, tossing them to the floor and turning with a toothy grin. "What was that?"
"How… did you open that?"
"By picking it. Or maybe I got the key from the SC office when I was talking to Niijima-senpai. Or maybe it was never locked." He shoved the door open. "After you."
Iida hesitated, then obeyed, dragging his feet while Nishiyama was next to him, trying to be encouraging. Akira made a quick call, put his phone back in his breast pocket, and shut the doors behind him.
A second later he heard what he was looking for. Perfect.
"What's this about, Kurusu?" Iida demanded, turning around by the wall and standing straight.
"Right to the point?"
"I don't have time to waste on your type."
"How original; you're only the seventeenth person to say that to me this month. But fine. I want to know who you called after Niijima-senpai spoke to you last week."
Iida went pale so fast he almost fell over. His lips pressed together so hard they thinned to the point of vanishing.
"Because events have me guessing that my view of the situation is incomplete," Akira went on, setting his bag down. "Care to fill me in?"
"That sounds like an accusation," Nishiyama noted.
"Only if you're guilty. He says you know the details, but let me set the stage in case he missed anything. A while back, Iida here was hooked by a scam involving the yakuza. Someone talked his ear off, he bit, and they blackmailed him. An innocent mistake, right? It's been going around a lot lately."
"I know about that."
"And?"
"And what? That's it."
"No, it isn't." Akira glanced over. "You can stop me whenever you like, Iida. Just speak up anytime and put the record straight."
Iida shook in place.
"No? Okay. Niijima-senpai – you know her, right Nishiyama? She got some information that would get Iida here get out of his situation. I know this because she asked for my help."
Nishiyama looked puzzled. "Why you?"
"Because I'm good at finding things out. Her intentions were good and I promised to help so a fellow student wouldn't be caught up in something that big. Simple as that. People will probably say I helped her because she had something on me or because I had a court order to work off or something, but I don't care. The point is that we got to the bottom of it and she called your friend here. In that conversation, he arranged a meeting between them. A bit strange, but she went along with it and made sure someone was there to back her up." Akira stepped forward, his voice turning dangerous. "But when she got there, she was grabbed by the yakuza. Ambushed, you might say. In broad daylight. I was there and so was Sakamoto Ryuji. You know him? I thought so. We tried to rescue her so nothing happened to her and got roped into the same scam as Iida here, owing a stupid amount of money with no time or way to pay it. A pretty serious problem if the clock ran out. Except things changed. She doesn't owe them anything and neither do we, no one had to do anything illegal or immoral, it's no harm, no foul because people are being let off the hook, right? Did you get that phone call, Iida?"
The student nodded shakily. "Y-yeah."
"So you can speak. Good. Now, things wouldn't have been so smooth if that miraculous little turn hadn't happened. Ryuji and I would still be on the hook, the time would be up, and so on. But since things did and I've had some time to think everything over, I'm wondering how the yakuza knew when and where to jump Niijima-senpai. That doesn't happen on its own. Actually, that's pretty damn risky when you think about it."
"I… I don't know."
"Really? That's your answer?"
"I said, I don't know."
"See, that doesn't track."
Nishiyama interjected, "What are you getting at, Kurusu?"
"You don't take a large risk unless you know you're getting a bigger reward. How could that group of gangsters know to be there, out of sight, at that time? It was the perfect place to hit Niijima-senpai when she wasn't expecting it, so it couldn't have happened by accident. They caught me and Ryuji when we went looking and dragged us to their base too, you know. It wasn't just a picture and a phone call for us; it was a lot worse. Your friend here knows why, and he has exactly one chance left to explain what happened."
"I don't know!" Iida declared.
Akira shrugged. "Fine. They were there because you set Senpai up. You knew she would help you, knew she wouldn't doubt you, so you used that to put a bullseye on her back."
Nishiyama shook his head firmly. "That's not possible. He wouldn't do that."
"Is that right? Check his phone. I know the times she called, and the guy who talked to me said that Iida here set everything up and sold her out to lower his debt. It was his idea first." Akira's voice turned even harder. "Getting snagged in a scam is one thing, but selling out your own classmates? Do you know what happens to people who end up in yakuza hands? I actually do, and it's not something I'd wish on anyone. So how about it, Iida? Was that how it went down? Who did you beg to set up next when Niijima-senpai wasn't enough for you?"
"I… I didn't…"
"All you have to do is show us your phone, Iida. One little thing and I'm wrong and you're free to go. You can tell everyone what an asshole I am and I'll agree with you. Otherwise, you're the reason why Ryuji and I–"
"So what?!" Iida exploded, coming forward and gesticulating wildly. The shakes ran through his whole body. "It was just you and Sakamoto! You'd be forgotten anyway! You're losers; you're nobody! Niijima-senpai is obviously fine, and if you two dregs get buried, no one would miss you!"
Akira's eyes turned arctic cold. "This is a bad look for you, Iida."
"Who cares?! Why are you still here?! You show up and everything goes wrong! The grades, the girls, the chances Kamoshida-sensei promised us, all of it! You're a criminal but you're accusing me?! Who do you think you are?!"
Akira's hands clenched into fists, his scabs itching and a fresh trickle of blood running as one split open. "I shouldn't be surprised that a worm like you was sucking up to that parasite."
"He gave us opportunities! What would you know about it?!"
"I know I'd never excuse his behavior after what he did to Suzui-san. Sounds like you've already done that. But since we're talking about the girls, let's clear the air on something. It wasn't just me and Ryuji and Niijima-senpai who got caught in your net. Takamaki Ann was there too."
That killed the wind in Iida's sails. "Taka…maki?"
"Yeah. You know her, right? Tall, foreign, probably looks amazing in a swimsuit? Want to guess what the yakuza would have done to her?" Akira growled. "That almost happened because of you, Iida. Classmates, real people, stuck in a life where we'd be extorted for everything and then thrown out once we're not worth anything anymore. Is that okay? Are the girls, one who stuck her neck out to help you, fair game for you too? Are you that much of a coward that you'd hand her, and anyone else you could think of, over to save your own skin once you got a taste for treachery?"
"That's going too far, Kurusu." Nishiyama's voice was shaky. The doubts had set in. "This could be a coincidence."
"It would be casino odds if this all happened by accident. But maybe so. Let's find out. He could clear this all up right now. Show us your phone, Iida."
The student was shaking so hard he almost fell over. "I…"
"It's that simple. No calls, you're in the clear." Akira's smile turned vicious. "But I think that's why you haven't used that as your proof I'm wrong, isn't it? You know what those numbers will show."
Iida pulled his phone from his pocket and clutched it with a death grip.
Akira chuckled darkly, pulling his own phone out. "Man, being you is going to suck. Niijima-senpai's got a fan club of her own, you know, but Takamaki? That was a mistake."
"What do you– wait, is that on?"
Akira laughed.
"Is that on?! Who's on the line?!"
Akira ended the call and pocketed his device. "Who indeed?"
"You– I– If…" Iida lunged at Akira, hands out like claws.
Akira had been expecting that. He sidestepped and grabbed Iida's arms, wrenching him around. It was hard thanks to Akira's injuries and Iida's fear-fuelled strength, but he completed the circle and slammed him into the nearby wall, twisting his arm behind his back until he felt the strain. "What's the lifespan of an athlete with a shredded shoulder?" Akira hissed. "Permanent tears, ripped muscles. How about a broken leg? Ryuji could give you pointers on losing everything and living with it."
Iida thrashed and heaved, but it got him nowhere.
Nishiyama approached, and Akira looked over dangerously.
But he had his hands out to de-escalate, not to attack. "Kurusu. Stop, please."
Right then, the doors blew open. Ann and Makoto-senpai rushed through, breathing hard.
"Talk about great timing," Akira commented. "I'm not sure this would have gone better if we'd planned it."
"Kurusu-kun…" Makoto tried to talk, but she couldn't form the words.
"We heard you," Ann told him. "The entire school heard you. How did you get onto the PA system?"
Akira hurled Iida backward, sending him stumbling until he tripped and fell. He curled up and wept, whimpering at Nishiyama's feet.
"You let your fear twist you into something vile," Akira spat, "but you can't face the music? This is what almost got us sold up the river? You've got no right to look down on me, Iida; you're pathetic."
Makoto-senpai spoke slowly. "What you've done here…"
Akira turned to her. "Is a lot less than he deserves. I don't imagine anything said today will be binding in court, and the cops aren't getting anything done here anyway." He shrugged and grinned coldly to the cowering second-year. "But the other students? That could be a problem. Learn to run fast and hide, Iida; you've got more than a year to go in this place."
Akira turned his back on the guys, facing Makoto-senpai's conflicted red eyes.
"Was that necessary?" she asked.
"Yes. If you let that happen and don't address it, you're encouraging him to do it to you again or to someone else down the line."
"Was this your way of protecting me?"
Akira shrugged. "Not really. This is for all of us, Miya-san included. Trash like that doesn't deserve mercy."
"And you're the authority on that? You'd put a target on him out of revenge?"
"Senpai, think of Suzui-san. It's the same thing. Everyone pretends they care until they have to act, then they stand around and wait for someone else to do it. In the meantime, a person's life is ruined. You wouldn't have let it happen then, and I couldn't let it stand now. Just because we got lucky doesn't forgive what he did."
Ann looked at Iida, her hardening eyes doing the talking.
Akira chuckled, and it was a sound without humor. "On the bright side, he caught me on a good day. Originally I planned on carving something on him so everyone knows they're dealing with a snake. Something big and obvious."
"You mean the Mark of Cain?" Makoto-senpai asked.
"It fits, doesn't it? It's not like this leopard's going to change his spots."
Nishiyama stepped forward, putting himself between them and Iida. "You don't know that if you don't give him a chance."
Akira turned to face him. "Don't I? If you think people can change, then why do I get trashed so much? Where was my chance? Or is the privilege of improving and second shots something you reserve for yourself and the people you like? Does it matter what they do then, if you've already decided they're innocent? Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't take your gratitude if you offered it to me with solid gold, but don't pretend everyone's hands are clean when he pulls something like this, not when you can't point to a single thing I've apparently done." Akira let that set in. Then he finished with, "Now, if you'll excuse me. Lunch is almost over."
Akira grabbed his bag and left the roof, cleared his phone's call history like he promised, and hummed to himself as he went back to class. People in the halls were pointing and whispering even more now, some even turning right around and avoiding him or watching from around the corners. He laughed, went back to class, and sat with Morgana.
Class for the rest of the day was derailed. There was an immediate announcement from the principal regarding usage of the intercom equipment, how locking the door and misplacing the key was against school policy, and that anyone who saw anything should come forward. The teachers tried to grill Akira for answers, but he simply replied, "I had no idea the call was being recorded. You think I arranged it? How? There isn't a single person in this school who would work with me."
His reputation was known among the faculty to such an extent that even they couldn't get past that. There was the promise of a call to his guardian, to which Akira answered, "I'm the victim here. Someone got into my phone and activated it without me knowing. Now I need to pay to get that fixed." School plodded on, the last bell sounded, and when he left he caught sight of Okumura-senpai and nodded to her. She returned a discrete smile and turned to her friends, looking as normal as ever.
As Akira left the school, he thought of something Makoto-senpai said. He glanced back to where he knew Iida's locker was and murmured, "Revenge? This is justice, whether you like how it looks or not. Enjoy the wages of your crimes."
7 7 7
"Yes… Yes, I know about the disruptions. Someone must be doing it. I might have known who, but… Yes, I realize that. You have an idea? I'll leave it to you, then."
A turn in the dark. The blinds were down and the curtains drawn. Only bent rays of light could make it in.
"The arrangement. Yes, it's going well. He thinks he knows. That is enough… No, he doesn't. He can't. Or he might. It doesn't matter."
Laughter. Not smooth, that wasn't needed right now. Honest, genuine laughter that left someone panting for breath after, cleaning the face. Lips up high, white teeth in the dark. Sharp. So sharp.
"They. Them. Yes, it must be. One couldn't do it… You have an idea? Already in place… No, I leave it to you. I'll be there as soon as you tell me… Yes, they'll learn well. They will pay. Until then."
Clouds blocked the light. Dimmer still, reflections and rainbows off darkness, ribbons that twisted and ran their hues to gray, the infinite shades between gray and black, the absolute end where color stopped.
Absolute. This was it. This was it always. Desecration and reciprocity. Crime and punishment. The punishment must fit the crime, the crime must be known, codified, sentenced, served, suffered, seen and sought not to repeat.
Violations of order. Crimes against people. Insults to God. Sleeves over scars even if the nerves stung, sparked, sizzled on contact, sensation around dead skin. Still the pain was there, but without the pain, what would be there?
What was pain if it was constant? What was life without it?
Fragments of the mirror, sharp on all corners. Can't leave it there, the pieces show fractured images, parts of a whole that don't fit together. Jagged, bent, all around you, turn and you'll see more. But pick them up and fingers get cut. Blood seeps into the reflections. Smears them, warps them, makes them real.
Are they real? Are they not?
Broken mirror, faces in pieces. Shattered masks. What is someone without a face? Whose face? Which face to wear when? So many faces, so many masks, all blotched with bloodied fingers from the glass. Bloody masks, stained properly. They weren't clean. Couldn't be. Nothing was. Each face, warped shadows. Each voice, one and different, many and the same.
His. Hers. Theirs. No different. No differences when there were differences, the differences were wrong when they were there, wrong when they weren't.
What were the differences?
The phone rang. A call came, the first and only one that morning. The logs would be clear about that, the technology infallible, but the technology was wrong, wasn't right, right? Right.
It was right. He, they, were right. They could only be right.
His red fingers lift the device, blood running onto the screen. He connects the call and answers.
"Akechi Goro here."