Author's Note:This chapter will essentially cover the entirety of Madarame's arc. (You'll note that some things have been moved around compared to Royal.)
This Sidestory is also becoming long enough that I think I'll be introducing some additional interludes of the main plot in the interim.
xxxx
Misato Katsuragi held up a hand. "Takuto Maruki?"
Ren Amamiya blinked. "Yes...?"
"...he's the Director of the First Branch in America."
And apparently married to Futaba Sakura. Even now, that fact still weirded Ren out. "He is now. Back then, he was just a simple counselor with an interest in cognitive psience...and that interest would have drastic effects on the whole world."
Ryuji Sakamoto frowned, the wrinkles on his face seeming more defined within the atmosphere of the Metaverse. "How is that?"
"...let me ask you a question, first." He could actually get some information from this. "What's his Persona?"
Misato looked at him with alarm. "How do you know he has one?"
"Well, you kind of confirmed it for me, but he had a Persona in my last life." And I'm willing to wager it's not Azathoth or Adam Kadmon, either.
"...might as well tell him, Katsuragi," said Ryuji. "If only to sate his curiosity...and to get an idea as to why he finds it so interesting."
Misato huffed. "Fine. His Persona is Hua Tuo."
"...that name doesn't ring a bell," admitted Ren.
"It's apparently derived from a legendary Chinese physician of the same name who lived centuries ago, way back during the Han dynasty. Wouldn't be able to tell you anymore details than that, though."
"I see." That definitely fit more in line with Takuto Maruki's basic personality. "And what about his wife, Futaba Maruki?"
"Hers is Prometheus," answered Misato.
Ren nodded. So her Second Awakening is the same.
"Did you know her?" asked Ryuji, catching his apparent knowledge.
...well, given that she's involved with NERV, she'll be involved with whatever resolution this whole mess will require. Might as well throw them a bone. "She was the adopted daughter of my caretaker Sojiro; she also ended up becoming a member of the Phantom Thieves. Her first Persona was Necronomicon, and Prometheus was her Second Awakening."
Misato was beginning to look a little perturbed. "Which...matches what I know about her. How do you know that...?"
"Because from what I've observed, one's natural Persona tends to be a constant from one world to the next. Whatever that implies about the inherent nature and constancy of one's personality, it is a pattern. And in the case of Takuto Maruki...it was a pattern that he defied."
Misato frowned, sitting back down on the floor. By this point, Tokoyo and Seiten Taisei had scooted off to a corner of cognitive room; somehow, Sakamoto's Persona had manifested a deck of cards, which they had begun playing to pass the time. What that implied about how the two adults truly felt about his recollection was...uncertain. "Let's say I take your story for granted, and that you've been through an entirely different life: what was I like?"
Ren shrugged. "Can't say I remember running into you. Sorry."
xxxx
Alas, at the time, Akira Kurusu had been too flummoxed by Yusuke Kitagawa's unexpected modelling offer to pay attention to his surroundings.
Otherwise, he might have noticed a patrol officer, walking her beat on behalf of community safety. The lady quietly tapped on the driver's side window of Madarame's chauffeur. "Hey; you can't idle here for too long if you're not picking up someone from the subway station."
When the driver politely informed his passenger, Madarame called out the name of his young ward, implicitly telling him to hurry along.
Satisfied that she'd done her due diligence, Officer Misato Katsuragi continued onward, not paying the quartet of colorful teenagers any further mind.
xxxx
"Anyhow, may I please continue with my story?" asked Ren.
Misato gave him leave to do so.
xxxx
Why are we here?
To witness a Trickster's response...to the tricks of life itself...
xxxx
"Ah, you're back," remarked Sojiro Sakura as Akira Kurusu walked into Leblanc. "How did your day go?"
"I had an artist propose that I model for him," Akira promptly answered.
"Uh huh, and I'm a former government agent," Sojiro joked, obviously aiming for feigned hyperbole.
Akira, knowing the truth of Sojiro's circumstances, could not let that one pass him by. "Really? What were you involved with? What department did you work for? Did you ever deal with any cover-ups? What about-?"
Sojiro blinked, flustered by his sudden barrage of questions. "H-Hey now, what's this about? Why the interest in politics?"
"I've been listening to a statesman speaking near Shibuya Crossing. He's got quite a way with words," Akira flatly said.
Sojiro huffed. "Sure, a teenager spending time listening to an old man talking politics...you sure have the wildest flair for the imaginative. If you've got time to do that, you have time to help me with the dishes."
At least he didn't accuse me of lying to him, mused Akira.
xx
Later, upstairs, Akira quietly texted his fellows whilst Morgana distracted himself by attacking random dust bunnies.
Ryuji: so, mid-terms aside
Akira: I'm sure you did fine.
Akira: Have faith in yourself, my pupil.＼(￣O￣)
Ryuji: dude, ur not a sensei
Ryuji: been bugged out enough today as is
Akira: Why?
Ryuji: you get that feeling of someone glarin' at you?
Ryuji: It's been bothering me loads today -_-
Huh. Something to watch out for...? Alas, Ann brought them back on track.
Ann: So...what do you think about Kitagawa?
Ann: are you going to attend that art exhibit?
Ryuji: u gonna model for the weirdo?
Ann: Ryuji!
Ryuji: oh come ON
Ryuji: you saw how that guy talked about art, right?
Akira glanced down at the flyer for Ichiryusai Madarame's exhibit, which ran from May the 15th through June the 5th. Hmm. How to go about this...? It was only their persistence in pushing the matter of Madarame's abuse that had prompted Yusuke to try and call the police on them the Last Time Around™. If we can avoid that, we can make life easier on us, he mused, staring at the three tickets Yusuke had given him.
Akira: I'm thinking about it.
Akira: More importantly...Madarame. The name.
Ann: I've been thinking about it too
Ryuji: from Nakanohara?
Ryuji: I tried putting the guy's name into the Nav, and got a hit
Ann: do you think he's the same Madarame that Nakanohara's Shadow mentioned?
Ryuji: ya know any other famous artists named Madarame?
We're certainly being a lot more proactive this time, Akira couldn't help but wonder. I haven't been encouraging them that much, have I? Without warning, he received an impromptu message in another chat window.
ALIBABA: A gift.
ALIBABA: [abridged Internet hyperlink]
"...curious." Knowing that Futaba wouldn't inflict him with something malicious, he opened the link and was routed to an online news article in his phone browser; sure enough, it was on an art-dedicated website from some years ago, and it referenced Natsuhiko Nakanohara's debut as Madarame's pupil. Without hesitation, he forwarded it to his fellow Thieves.
Ryuji: dude, nice sleuthing!
Akira: a gift from my impersonator on Phan-Watch
Ryuji: dude, wtf is their deal
Ann: it's a legit news story though
Ann: but do we know if what he said about Madarame was true?
As Ann and Ryuji went back and forth about the pros and cons of going after Madarame, Akira turned back to Futaba. (Ali-Futaba? Eh...)
Akira: You seem to know a lot.
ALIBABA: I manage.
Akira: I bet you've managed to bug my phone.
ALIBABA: A harmless thing to admit, at this stage.
ALIBABA: I can delete any incriminating evidence before you can ever set foot inside a police station.
ALIBABA: Just so you don't try anything funny.
Akira: Mah, such a lack of trust from one who wants us to change a heart.
ALIBABA: It would be foolish to trust so easily.
Akira: And yet here we are.
Akira: You're interested in seeing what we can do.
Akira: I'm interested in what you can do.
ALIBABA: Oh?
Akira: You've already indicated that you had Nakanohara's contact information.
Akira: I would like you to send him a message.
ALIBABA: That being?
Akira: Ask him about what he alleges Madarame did to him.
Akira: Ask him what he knows about another pupil by the name of Yusuke Kitagawa.
Akira: Then ask if he would be interested in the Phantom Thieves changing Madarame's heart.
ALIBABA: A simple matter. But why?
Akira pondered his words: not just in regards to this upcoming mission, but also in regards to how Futaba would interpret them.
Akira: It would be safer than meeting him in person in order to get his perspective on Madarame.
ALIBABA: Meeting anyone in person while pretending to represent the Phantom Thieves
ALIBABA: would be a monumentally stupid decision.
Alas, we were all young and dumb once, he thought with a grim chuckle. We were so stupidly lucky back then...
Akira: But more importantly
Akira: We need a greater understanding about Madarame and his alleged crimes.
Akira: Because we only use our power if it's warranted.
ALIBABA: Is that a fact?
Akira: Well
Akira: Practically all people are distorted in one way or another
Akira: Some worse than most
Akira: And keeping oneself from becoming distorted is a constant struggle
Akira: But I don't necessarily think the presence of distorted desires by itself
Akira: means that a person is necessarily evil.
ALIBABA: You sound so sure.
Akira: I'm sure your mysterious target is the same.
Akira: Are they truly evil?
Akira: Or is their distortion simply too terrible for them to grasp with?
The fact Futaba didn't immediately respond was enough of a sign that he had hit the jackpot. Turning back to the Thieves, he marvelled at the literal lines of text representing Ryuji and Ann's back-and-forth debate.
Akira: Okay, putting my foot down
Ryuji: dude, you were so friggin' quiet
Ann: what's up?
Akira: I'm siccing Alibaba onto Nakanohara to get his side of the story
Akira: discreetly
Akira: So we at least can have more information
Ryuji: that a good idea?
Akira: We can look into Alibaba's identity later.
Akira: For now, they seem interested in being a helpful source of intel.
Akira: So let's milk it for all its worth.
Ryuji: I guess
Akira: In the meantime
Akira: We should all go to the art exhibit tomorrow.
Akira: This way, we can get an idea of what Madarame is like in person without arousing suspicion.
Ryuji: ugh, art sounds so boring -.-
Ann: it'll be culturally enriching! ^.^
Ryuji: who you trying to show off for?
Ann: Hey! 6.9
Akira: If nothing else, it'll give you ideas for Madarame's keywords.
Ryuji: that's something at least
As they wound down for the night, Futaba texted him one last time.
ALIBABA: Your proposal is acceptable.
ALIBABA: More to follow.
And just like that, Akira's follow-up message went to an invalid number. Bit by bit, Futaba...
"Nya!" exclaimed Morgana, suddenly emerging out in the open with a wad of dusty fluff beneath his paws. "...uh..."
Akira smirked. "Very interesting behavior from a human..."
"I-It's just this body I'm stuck in!" protested the 'Most Definitely Not A Cat™'. "I'm just indulging in its baser instincts so I won't be distracted on a mission!"
"Sure, I believe you..."
xxxx
("...simple enough to do," mused Futaba as she quietly set about crafting a message for Nakanohara to read.)
(All the while, she kept going back to those damning lines from her text log, which seemed written with such confidence.)
(But Kurusu didn't know; he couldn't know.)
(Her 'target' had killed the greatest woman in the world; what fiend could be more evil?)
xxxx
/Sunday: May 15, 2016/
And 'lo, we entered the Museum of Vanity, mused Akira inwardly as he, Ryuji, and Ann walked into Madarame's art exhibit. Morgana sat quietly with his bag, keeping a careful eye out from within the zipper for anything suspicious.
Yusuke was upon them immediately. "Ah, how wonderful that you came!" Glancing over at Ryuji and Ann, he added, "I had given the tickets away as a courtesy, but I had not anticipated giving a tour to more than one person..."
"Don't worry about them. They're just here to appreciate the arts." Shooting a glance at his comrades, he added, "Riiight?"
"Of course!" chirped Ann.
Ryuji just shrugged. (Under his breath, he muttered, "Seriously, is someone watching me...?")
Yusuke seemed pleased. "Please try not to interfere with the other visitors; I hope your horizons will be duly enlightened. Now, please, follow me," he said, gesturing for Akira to follow. "I'd like to discuss the picture I wish to draw."
Akira dutifully accompanied his guide, listening intently as Yusuke described various pieces as they passed. I never actually saw what Yusuke showed Ann during this tour, so this is actually new for me. The sight of so many different styles—plagiarized, stolen!—was certainly...eye-catching. During the tour, Madarame himself intervened. "Ah, the boy from yesterday. Are you enjoying the exhibit?"
"It's quite a lot of art from one man," Akira remarked, hands in his pockets. "I imagine there are many who would be excited to learn from someone of your caliber."
(Very subtle of you...)
Madarame managed to laugh off his hidden barb. "Quite so! If you gain a sense of awe from any piece, then that alone is enough to satisfy." Glancing back at Yusuke, he said, "I look forward to the piece you'll be making, Yusuke."
As the old man moved on, Akira remarked, "He seems quite...talented."
"Sensei creates all of this by himself. He's special," swore Yusuke, before he turned to comment on another painting.
(There were subtle differences in how Yusuke spoke; even in the future, the eccentric man had always been swept away by the Passionate Seas of Art™; however, with age had come a semblance of one who let himself be carried away with a sense of control. That sense of control was lacking, replaced by a barely subdued mania.)
A certain piece caught Akira's eye. (Little did he know, but it was a piece that had caught Ann's eye the Last Time Around™...albeit for an entirely different reason.) Well hello there. He moved towards a watercolor canvas that looked like a morning sunrise coming over distant mountains, framed by evergreens on both sides. Although the brush strokes evoked an impression of fury and fire, it had not caught Akira's attention for that particular reason. This piece...was in Future Yusuke's public art portfolio...
(The Last Time Around™, Yusuke's first dedicated art exhibit had featured pieces of his which had previously debuted under Madarame's name. "Even if their impact on the average viewer will be lesser, it is important to balance the scales. After all, even though he ended up becoming a shell of a man...Madarame had pieces that were solely his own." Yusuke looked solemnly upon the canvas, scratching at his goatee. "As an artist...and only as an artist...he deserves to be recognized for the works he did create. Nothing more.")
...which means this is one of the ones Madarame originally plagiarized. "This one looks neat."
"This one...?" Yusuke sounded briefly unsure of himself.
Well, well, well. "Is something wrong? You've been raving about every other piece; is there something about this one in particular that's different?"
Yusuke faltered. "Ah. My apologies, but I'm simply...recalling Sensei's mood when he made this one. As with any artist, sometimes his passions can...carry him away."
(To revisit the metaphor, Yusuke now sounded as one who was on the verge of drowning beneath that artistic sea.) "I see."
Suddenly, Morgana's voice hissed from within his bag. "Psst! Hey! Joker! Check your 9!"
(Yusuke frowned, looking around with confusion. "Is that a cat I hear...?")
Akira looked to his left, blinking with surprise once he realized who Morgana had seen. Huh. I think I have an inkling as to why Ryuji feels like he's been being watched. With a calm stride, Akira approached a young woman. "Well hello, Miss President."
Makoto Niijima — face intentionally buried into an art gallery pamphlet — visibly faltered at his presence, as though dismayed she had been spotted. "Ah. Hello."
"I'm surprised you'd come to this art exhibit; you don't strike me as the artsy type." Leaning back on his heels, he added, "Then again, we did just get through mid-terms, so I can't blame you for wanting a chance to unwind...right?" Has she begun trailing us already?
"...yes. Right. Of course," said Makoto, taking his excuse and running with it.
Yusuke approached, looking at her critically yet stoically. "You know this girl?"
"She's my senpai at Shujin," he explained. Suddenly a cheeky idea came to mind. "Come to think of it, she'd probably make a good model as well, don't you think?"
"M-M-Me? A model?" sputtered Makoto.
Yusuke seemed like he was going to dispute the proposition...until he framed his fingers, quietly capturing Makoto. "Hmm. A seemingly perfect replica of an ideal Japanese beauty...yet there is something seething, struggling to break out..."
Makoto stared; unsure what to make of this turn of events, she quietly turned away so that he only had a side profile of her.
"...ah, but I am already sufficiently distracted by thoughts of my upcoming picture. I must not be led astray by future prospects!" Lightly bowing at her, he asked, "Should you be amenable at a later date, I would be happy to revisit the opportunity."
"...thank you...?" murmured Makoto.
Akira grinned. "Anyhow, I believe we have a tour to continue, Kitagawa-san?"
"Ah, of course! This way." And then Yusuke was off again.
Akira, shooting Makoto a conspiratorial wink—"Artists, am I right?"—before moving on.
("...what just happened?" Makoto mouthed to herself.)
xxxx
At the end of the day, Ryuji was rather glad to at least have an inkling as to why he'd been feeling weird. "Why would the Student Council's prez be stalking us?"
"We'll worry about it later," confidently said Akira. Glancing around their old 'hideout' at the Teikyu Building's accessway in Shibuya, he couldn't help but fathom just how uncaring the surrounding crowds were. Nothing but some teenagers, hanging out and shooting the breeze; nothing worthwhile for the masses to notice, eh...? "In the meantime...I told Kitagawa-san that I would be thinking about the modelling offer some more. But he seemed rather insistent that it be complete by the end of Madarame's exhibit."
"Why?" asked Ann.
"Not sure. I'll think about asking him, now that I've got his contact info," he said, gesturing to his phone. "Anyhow...did you two get any ideas about keywords?"
Ryuji brought up the word 'shack' ("He mentioned it in an interview he was doing, and it just stuck out to me."), while Ann wondered about the location they had just been to ("There was so much art there, he could have his own museum to himself!"). However, there was still another keyword missing.
"...huh. Guess how Madarame sees this 'shack' of his isn't enough; we need to understand the concept behind it..." Morgana huffed. "This 'Nav' seems quite picky..."
Not to mention fickle. Did we even need a 'concept' as a keyword for most of the Palaces? Akira honestly couldn't recall. "...we'll pick at it over night. In the meantime, we should look at the website and come to a decision about some more Mementos missions. Something to whet our teeth on while we came to a decision about Kitagawa's sensei."
Ryuji and Ann nodded.
(How fortunate for them, that Futaba would reach out that night with a response from Nakanohara.)
xxxx
/Back at Leblanc.../
While Akira quietly waited for the repaired laptop to boot up, he received a text file from Alibaba. After skimming it—it only contained Nakanohara's response to 'Wild_Card_Joker'; all identifying account information that could have linked the account to Futaba Sakura had been redacted—he forwarded it to the Thieves' group chat.
Akira: Alibaba came through.
Ryuji: For real?
Ann: That was quick!
Akira patiently gave them a minute to read through Nakanohara's e-mail—his story about how he had lived under Madarame's care as a pupil; how a senior pupil had committed suicide after Madarame plagiarized his works as his own; how Nakanohara's dispute with, and departure from, Madarame had resulted in his being blacklisted in the entire world of Japanese art; how Yusuke Kitagawa seemingly yearned to leave if he could; how Nakanohara wanted Madarame's heart changed for Yusuke's sake—returned to the chat with Alibaba.
Akira: Thanks.
ALIBABA: You are dealing with quite an interesting target.
Akira: 'Interesting', you say?
Akira: An interesting way to phrase it, if you'll pardon the repetition.
ALIBABA: How so?
Akira: Why do the trials of a painter interest you? Why do Madarame's crimes interest you?
ALIBABA: They do not interest me in and of themselves.
ALIBABA: Only insofar as they provide another chance to prove yourselves.
Akira: You are not already satisfied?
Akira: You've already communicated with Nakanohara directly.
Akira: Are you concerned about what a change of heart will do to your target?
ALIBABA: There is always a concern.
ALIBABA: I need more data.
I bet you do.
The laptop finally booted up, delivering a rather catchy little jingle as its Internet browser automatically routed to a site on the dark web called Tanaka's Shady Commodities. Muting the speaker—I'll look into shopping later—Akira turned back towards the chat logs: overall, Ryuji and Ann were now in agreement about Madarame. Akira quietly input 'plagiarism' into the Meta-Nav, and it finally gave a 100% match; alas, they were too far from the Palace's location to enter.
Akira: With that extra information, we now have a full match.
Ryuji: Sweet!
Akira: Now
Akira: let's pick some smaller targets from Phan-Watch
Akira: that we can strike in Mementos
Ryuji: huh?
Ann: We're not going after Madarame now?
Akira: I still have an open invitation to model for Yusuke, remember?
Akira: I want to scout out Madarame's shack
Akira: And get a better idea of Yusuke's situation
Akira: But in the meantime, you guys and Mona
Akira: Can keep our streak going
Ryuji: that's true
Ryuji: we'd still be helping people
Ann: you sure you'll be fine by yourself?
Ryuji: he's our Leader for a reason
Akira: I appreciate the vote of confidence.
Ryuji: Then let's pick some targets!
After browsing Phan-Watch and narrowing their selection to three — one of which included one 'Daisuke Takanashi' from Shujin — Akira forwarded their names and the corresponding Phan-Watch threads to Futaba.
ALIBABA: I will have calling cards sent out before the night is over.
Akira: For whatever it's worth, I appreciate this.
Akira: Whoever you are
ALIBABA: Do you not know about the Tales of the Forty Thieves?
Akira: I actually do.
(Technically, only because of some reading that he'd done in his Last Life™, but whatever!)
Akira: It's an odd name for you.
ALIBABA: How so?
Akira: Because in the original story
Akira: Ali Baba discovers the den of treasure of the 40 thieves
Akira: and the thieves plot to kill him when they realize he knows
Akira: given our 'trade name'
Akira: Do you believe that we intend to kill you?
Akira: Because helping us so much would be kind of odd
xxxx
(Futaba glared at her computer monitor, and inwardly cursed her weeb-like fascination with folklore from the Middle East. "Damn it, he's got a point...")
xxxx
Akira suddenly grinned.
Akira: or maybe you're just a nerd for Arabic folk tales or something
Akira: ʅ(ツ)ʃ
xxxx
(Futaba nearly jumped out of her seat, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. "Why you little...!")
xxxx
ALIBABA: I am not having this conversation.
ALIBABA: I will be watching for the results of your new targets.
Akira chuckled. Sorry Futaba, I couldn't resist.
Morgana, standing near the edge of the stairs, bolted towards the bed. "Hey, I think the chief is getting upset with a customer!"
Akira arched an eyebrow. "Really...?" How odd.
Going downstairs (because he had wanted to get some curry before Sojiro closed up shop regardless), he saw the man...and realized it was Futaba's uncle, Youji Isshiki. (Not that he was supposed to know that name yet.) Oh. This jerk.
xxxx
Day: May 15th, 2016
Saw an art show. Saw a shady merchant. All told, a rather lazy Sunday...
Also watched Sojiro get angry at a customer.
Eh, I'm sure that guy deserved it.
xxxx
/Monday: May 16, 2016/
School went by as expected (save for a period where Dr. Maruki took over the biology class on Hiruta-sensei's behalf, surprisingly): whispered rumors, and surprised gossip when he actually got an answer right.
(The mid-term results can't come soon enough for you...)
After handing off his bookbag to Ann and Ryuji — "Feel free to bonk him if he acts weird," Akira joked, much to the cat's protests — he veered away from Shibuya's Central Street, taking a road that he knew by heart. After all...
(The Last Time Around™, when Madarame had passed away in prison, Yusuke Kitagawa had found out that he had still been considered the sole heir of Madarame's estate. Even if the numerous lawsuits and civil judgments over the years had whittled away at the majority of Madarame's ill-gotten assets, the 'modest shack' had remained in his possession...which meant Yusuke — all in a panic at the time about finding a place for him and his new wife to live, especially when they had a baby on the way! — all of a sudden had a place to make a family home. Futaba, to her credit, hadn't minded; from her point of view, its ramshackle quality 'only made it easier to respec its architectural skill points'...or something to that effect.)
...it had been the home of the Kitagawa Family, eclectic and eccentric as they had been. It sure will be weird not seeing Futaba's dedicated server room, mused Akira as he approached the old and rickety house. Not to mention the cooling tower they built on the roof that piped directly into said server room...
Alas, thoughts of a former future would have to wait.
Once he announced his presence at the front door, Yusuke gladly welcomed him. Akira noticed that Madarame was in the kitchen adjacent to the entryway, calmly speaking on an old phone. The old man (more like wretched filthy abuser and stealer of livelihoods your comeuppance will come you vain fiend-!) put his call on hold, saying, "Ah, so you agreed to be my pupil's model after all?" With a shrewd glance, he asked, "Will you need me to draw up a contract? Despite my attempts to remain detached, I know that some people are rather picky about their likeness being used..."
I'm sure. "Not at all. I'm just interested in seeing what it's like." Madarame doubtless preferred it this way; if Akira didn't provide any legal requirements up front, then anything made by Yusuke would inevitably default to Madarame's control. But not for long, old man.
As Yusuke led Akira to his room, Kurusu looked around at the various sketches and practice pieces with a nostalgic air. "So...what kind of work were you wanting me to model for? Watercolor? Charcoal?" Akira tilted his head. "Marble statue?"
"I'm afraid my experience with sculpture is very lacking. A possibility for the future." Yusuke quietly motioned towards a chair. "You may disrobe at your leisure. I will direct your pose once I have a better perspective on your musculature."
And here we go. "You sound like you've worked with nude models before...?" He intentionally tried to sound disturbed.
Yusuke blinked. "Ah, but of course. Kosei's art program is quite substantial; the models we practice sketching are all professionals."
"Adults?"
"Naturally."
"Hmm."
Yusuke blinked again, this time with more confusion. "Is...something the matter?"
"Well, I'm still technically a minor; couldn't this get you in trouble?"
"...how so?" He genuinely didn't understand.
Akira resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The things I do for friends with Art for Brains. "I mean, wouldn't using a minor in nude art get you in trouble for...obscenity, or something? I'm not exactly sure how it would work with this situation-"
Yusuke gasped, as though he had been stabbed through the heart. "You...would accuse me of such vulgarity? As though I would defile my art for the purpose of indulging in carnal lust? Do you think me of as some...lowly purveyor of voyueristic doujinshi tripe?!"
...oh. Right. He had forgotten about all of the arguments Future Futaba had had with Future Yusuke about the artistic merits of doujinshi. It's been so long that it slipped my mind. To be honest, it shouldn't have been surprising that someone known as Madarame's pupil would have had a bit of an elitist streak towards works seen as 'derivative'. (Oh, the irony there.) "I'm just saying; I don't know exactly how this whole thing works. I just don't want you to get in trouble."
Yusuke's dander lowered, his furrowed brow finally relaxing. "...fair enough. You are doubtless a neophyte; you would not know the ins and outs of the art world. I am certain that Sensei would be able to squelch any uncertainties, if it was for the sake of art..." He quietly trailed off before sitting down at a canvas.
You hesitated. Akira didn't pounce on the opening, looking at the stool. "So just to be clear, you're not going to be doing anything weird?" (He knew Yusuke literally wouldn't be weird about it, but it was natural to ask such a question, because that's what the average teenager would ask, and man all of this pretending was downright tedious...)
"I don't get your implication," he flatly said. "As an aspiring artist, I would not sully my work."
"Okay, just so we're clear." Akira looked around quietly. "...you wouldn't happen to have a towel I can sit on, do you?"
The lanky boy faltered out of genuine dismay. "Ah! My apologies for the discourtesy."
As Yusuke rushed off, Akira calmly began to take off his shirt. I hope the others are doing well...
xxxx
/Meanwhile, in Mementos/
Skull and Panther both looked blankly at the Mona-bus. "...we forgot that Joker's the only one who knows how to drive," moaned the blonde in red.
The thuggish blond stomped the ground. "This is great. Why the eff can't you drive yourself, Mona?!"
"Hey, it's not my fault that buses aren't self-driving!" protested the living vehicle. "I mean, unless you feel like walking to our targets-"
A cheerful voice interrupted them. "Hiya!" The trio glanced over at none other than Jose, who was sitting behind the wheel of his toy car. Honk honk. "Where's the guy who normally drives you? Is he out sick? I've heard that humans can get sick sometimes and have to stay home...which sounds really inconvenient."
Panther suddenly smiled, clapping her hands together. "Jose-kun~!"
"Yes, pretty lady?"
"I have an idea that I'd like to share with you!"
Skull and Mona blinked. "You do?"
Ignoring them, she sweetly said, "How would you like to play a game with us? It's called 'Get Us to a Shadow as Quickly as Possible'..."
Jose smiled naively. "That sounds like fun! How do we play?"
xx
And that was how the Mona-bus ended up getting towed through Mementos by a gigantic toy car.
(And man, Jose could really book it when he wanted to!)
xxxx
Akira — sitting cross-legged, with hands folded in front of his torso, and his profile turned at a diagonal relative to Yusuke — was rather uncomfortable.
Not because he was being a nude model; the Last Time Around™, he had served as one for Kitagawa as an adult several times. Alas, he had never done anything risque...nothing to the degree Futaba had done, the few times she had served as her boyfriend-turned-husband's model. I guess there were benefits to Yusuke insofar as his art was concerned, but GODS Futaba was into some freaky crap. (Alas, it was the curse of being a perpetual denizen of the Internet...)
(Maybe you should stop thinking about the times your sorta-sister nearly ran afoul of Japan's anti-obscenity laws...?)
No; this whole situation was rather tame, relative to his Former Future™...or maybe his Past Future™, at this point? (The curse of maintaining proper tenses!)
Nay, he was uncomfortable because it was cold. Rain had started coming down about half an hour into the session, and the heat seemed to outright leak out of the room. Blast it all, Madarame, do you not have proper insulation?!
"...I believe I have enough material. You may stop posing." Yusuke's word was all the excuse Akira needed to speedrun putting his clothes back on. Such was his speed that the artist blinked with surprise. "Odd; you were so composed. Were you that anxious for it to be over?"
"No, it's just cold."
Yusuke blinked, as if belatedly realizing the ambient temperature. "Ah. So it is." Yusuke leaned back, looking at his painting with a critical eye. "It may be a work in progress, but I hope you are pleased with what's present."
When Akira walked around the canvas, he couldn't help but blink with shock. It was a painting in the style of sōsaku-hanga: a contemporary and more individualistic take on classic ukiyo-e. Although Akira's form was captured in stark outlines, the biggest surprise was the naked man's face...and there was no doubt that it was a man: fine lines and gradients evoked an older face, wrinkled and worn with age. That's...me...as I was. (The face of an older man; one that he hadn't seen in a mirror since returning to this new past; one that he had not seen for more than a month, now.) More importantly, rotating around the sketched man were various Noh masks, each bearing a more youthful face with different expressions: cocky, determined, angry, somber, and so on. By comparison, the wrinkled face seemed...weary. "...wow."
"I wanted to ensure there was nothing inhibiting my vision of your person," explained Yusuke, delving into his rationale. "Even contemporary clothing can be a mask that someone wears...and you seemed like a person wearing many masks already." The artistic boy leaned back, peering intently at his work. "There is something to be said about an essence, peeking out from underneath...and it's strangely honest, even if it hides in numerous ways from the world."
"...I see." Yusuke had always a strange and insightful connection with people and the world through his art, but this was downright spooky. "I bet it'll be something special once you finish it. Imagine debuting with something like this...I mean, not to boast about my looks, but..." Akira trailed off, glancing at Yusuke out of the corner of his eye; the word 'debuting' had elicited a pained grimace. Ah, yes. "You think Madarame won't let you display it?"
Yusuke blinked, brought out of his brief torpor. "Ah. No, that's not it. You were a wonderful subject; I was able to focus very clearly on the image in my mind...I felt I was finally able to grasp the heights of the Sayuri..."
(Yusuke had not shown the Sayuri on his phone as of this point in time; there was no harm in pretending prior knowledge over something like this.) "Ah, I know that one. Good taste." Akira frowned. "Are...you worried Madarame's going to do something to your painting?"
"No, Sensei wouldn't tarnish a worthwhile work of art!" Yusuke impulsively protested. "It's just..." The boy trailed off, unsure of what else to say.
Akira resisted the urge to scowl at the thought of what Madarame had done to his pupils. "...you know, a master in the arts, or in the trades? They're kind of like a parent, from a certain point of view...and any parent worth their salt would be outright ecstatic at the success of their kids. After all...if a pupil is able to reach heights that the sensei could never dream of...wouldn't that be a great testament to his worth as a teacher? What greater honor could there be?"
Yusuke looked like he wanted to refute the point...but he couldn't, because it was true.
"I sure hope Madarame is that kind of sensei to you. If not...he doesn't know what he's missing," he said, hoping the idea would settle within the boy's subconscious. "Anyhow, I think I'll be leaving."
As Akira turned to depart, he heard Yusuke's voice from behind: quiet, contemplative, yet nervous. "Would you mind returning tomorrow? I would like to have more references for your facial expressions..."
"I'll be here after school," remarked Akira without hesitation.
(On the way out, he veered towards the Door™: the colorful and eye-catching barrier that hid Madarame's secrets.)
(You'll need to bring some lock-picks with you tomorrow.)
xx
After Akira set foot outside — grateful that the rain shower had been mercifully brief — he was surprised to see a familiar face on the other side of the street: one belonging to a woman in her mid-20s at least, with a black bob cut and orange sunglasses hanging on her head. "Can I help you?"
"Are you one of Madarame's pupils?" said the woman, her eyes glancing at the shack. "I've been trying to speak with one for days now, but the only people that keep showing up are stalker types..."
"Not a pupil; just a model for one."
The woman's eyes lit up. "Think you can arrange me an interview?"
"...what for?"
The woman, explaining that she was a journalist, brought up the story of the Sayuri: allegedly stolen by one of Madarame's former pupils in the past, as revenge for abuse. "I'm just looking for material to write a story with, but without a victim or proof of abuse..."
Yusuke would not be willing to do such a thing. Now, Nakanohara, on the other hand? "I think I might be able to get you something, Miss...?"
"Ah! Ichiko Ohya!" She quickly handed him her business card. "Contact me here. I'd be grateful for any leads you can provide."
Akira did her one better. "I'll have the contact information for your lead forwarded to you by tonight." And just like that, he had made the lady's day. Here's hoping she doesn't get wasted at Crossroads..
(Was Crossroads still a thing, in this timeline?)
(You really need to find a plausible reason to go to Shinjuku...)
xxxx
That night, the Phantom Thieves rendezvoused at the diner off of Central Street. The Mementos missions had gone well—learning that they had been towed the entire time by Jose had been funny, but he resolved to spend at least some time teaching his teammates how to drive—as had the modelling.
"I can't believe you actually modeled nude for the guy," grumbled Ryuji.
"I dunno, our leader seems kind of unhinged enough to do that sort of thing," joked Ann.
"Unhinged?" queried Morgana from under the table.
"My hinges are perfectly oiled and polished to a fine sheen, thank you kindly," retorted Akira...right as he paused to take a dramatic sip of his frui-tea.
Ann giggled at his theatrics. "See what I mean?"
Ryuji still seemed skeptical. "But still, you sat in the buff for how long? Have you, like, practiced at that sort of thing before?"
Akira shrugged. "Out in the countryside, you'd be surprised at what sort of characters there are that call themselves artists." (The 'Out in the Countryside™' excuse was quickly becoming one of his favorites.)
"Your hometown is starting to wig me out, dude..."
Akira leaned forward, folding his hands in front of his mouth: it was a Serious Pose™, one that evoked an inherent ability to get one's attention. "So...I'll be heading back to see Kitagawa tomorrow. Meanwhile, I think you three should begin the Palace infiltration."
"Will you be following us?" asked Ann.
"I'll be doing one better." He then explained the rough outlines of his plan. To Ryuji and Ann's credit, they took it seriously.
"...you really think he's a good candidate?" asked Morgana.
"I definitely get that sense. And judging by what we found out from Nakanohara...he's someone trapped in a situation with no way out: ensnared by his own sense of obligation to someone who doesn't deserve it." Adjusting his glasses, he solemnly asked, "He has a will of rebellion. We just need to give him a little push."
"...because sometimes, you need a push to finally do what you've wanted to do for so long..." murmured Ann, eyes looking briefly downcast.
Ryuji grinned. "Well, here's to tomorrow, then."
xxxx
/Later that night, at Leblanc.../
ALIBABA: I have abridged Nakanohara's story and forwarded his contact information
ALIBABA: to this 'Ichiko Ohya'
Akira: I appreciate it.
ALIBABA: I reviewed her profile.
ALIBABA: She seems like a hack paparazzi.
Akira: That's the plural noun.
Akira: Paparazza is the feminine form of the word.
(Ah, the wonders of listening to Ohya's drunken ramblings from the Last Time Around™; she had been surprisingly full of interesting trivia...)
xxxx
(Futaba glared at her computer monitor. "Why the hell do you know something so trivial like that...?")
xxxx
ALIBABA: Bragging about esoteric knowledge is unbecoming.
Akira: Did I say something untrue?
Akira: :)
ALIBABA: Just be prepared for this to go nowhere.
ALIBABA: Any story coming from her will be deemed as sensationalist clickbait.
Akira: I'm not so sure.
Akira: Call it a gut feeling.
Akira: Also, random question.
Akira: Given that you've bugged my phone, it's probably safe to say you have access to the camera and microphone.
ALIBABA: What of it?
Akira: I need you to be honest with me.
Akira: Did my ass look big?
Akira: Because I couldn't exactly check myself out while modelling for Kitagawa.
Akira: That would have been weird.
xxxx
(Futaba outright jolted, leaning back with red-faced shock at how utterly incorrigible the guy was.)
(Then a little ';p' came through, and she resisted the urge to throttle the delinquent for getting one over on her. "You little troll...")
(Well, two could play at this game!)
xxxx
ALIBABA: No comment.
ALIBABA: It's very unfortunate.
Akira: What is?
ALIBABA: You seem to have a terminal case of SDN.
Akira: SDN?
ALIBABA: SUCK'ON DEEZ NUTS
xxxx
("Got 'em," cackled Futaba. "Hee hee hee!")
xxxx
...I haven't heard that one in forever, mused Akira, feeling both a blast of youthful nostalgia and the sensation of being way too old. It was a very confusing feeling.
Akira: Well played.
Akira: But you've confirmed that you're what subject matter experts would call
Akira: a "Meme Lord"
Akira: Which means you're probably fairly young.
Akira: Maybe a year or two younger than me?
xxxx
("...shit," Futaba murmured.)
xxxx
ALIBABA: Believe whatever it is you want to believe.
Akira: I try to believe the truth.
A sudden epiphany hit Akira, as he purposefully veered on another tangent.
Akira: Finding out what the truth is? Now that's the hard part.
Akira: And sometimes, it's covered up by manipulators
Akira: liars
Akira: fakers
Akira: and abusers
Akira: I wonder
ALIBABA: You wonder...about what?
Akira: Do you have the same desire?
Akira: To imagine being out there?
Akira: Swatting lies in the making?
xxxx
(Futaba stared: feeling the words as they flowed through the contours of her mind; tasting them as her neurons fired.)
(If nothing else, this guy was good at distracting her from...worse things.)
(So why did pondering the 'truth' make her soul ache...?)
(Why did it make her think of her mother's smile, instead of her mother's vindictive and well-deserved wrath...?)
xxxx
ALIBABA: More than you know.
Akira: Well
Akira: If you're going to do that
Akira: Then you'll need to wake up
Akira: get up
Akira: and get out there
ALIBABA: I am unsure what you're getting at.
ALIBABA: Have I not been helpful?
Akira: I have a funny feeling that you know what I'm getting at.
Akira: At some point, to be free
Akira: you'll need to take off your mask
Akira: because if you hold on...life won't change
Futaba did not respond. Bit by bit, thought Akira with a stoic frown.
"...are you still texting...?" murmured Morgana as he impulsively stretched his spine. "Go to bed...we have a big day tomorrow..."
Akira rolled his eyes with a grin. "Fine; let me just update my probation diary."
xxxx
(Futaba looked at the words with utter befuddlement...and not a hint of quiet awe, stirring within the seat of her soul. "...who are you, Akira Kurusu...?")
xxxx
Day: May 16th, 2016
Modelled for some dude; looking forward to the finished product. I think he got one of my better sides.
The Egyptian who was watching declined to tell me whether or not my butt looked fat. (Rude.)
Tomorrow is another day.
xxxx
/Tuesday: May 17, 2016/
After school, the Thieves immediately made a beeline for Madarame's shack. Before they neared the street corner it sat on, Akira motioned Morgana, Ryuji, and Ann to head down a nearby alleyway that terminated at a dead end. "You should be close enough to get into the Metaverse from there; better not take the risk of being spotted."
"How long do you think you'll be?" asked Morgana.
"It all depends on how quickly I can convince Kitagawa-san." Glancing over at the shack, Akira remarked, "Just like how Shujin turned into a giant castle...this 'museum' that Madarame envisions his home as may be incredibly large. Advance carefully, and avoid any Shadows if at all possible: we're not trying to secure our infiltration route in one day." If we play our cards right, we won't have to worry about a strict time limit like we did for Kamoshida...
"Just...be careful, okay?" said Ann. "Because if Madarame runs into you..."
Akira grinned, exuding a charming yet gutsy smile. "Then I'll improvise," he remarked, feeling for the lock-picks in his pockets.
"You heard the man; let's do it!" Ryuji grabbed his phone, motioning for his peers to follow him into the alleyway.
Akira quietly watched as they moved a fair distance away, until they seemed to shimmer and fade away into nothing. Okay...showtime. Without another word, Akira advanced towards the shack with head held high.
xx
(Within the Metaverse, Skull, Panther, and Mona gazed the immense edifice of Madarame's Palace: a gaudy museum adorned with spotlights and clad in gold, speaking of an immense ego. "As if we didn't need another reason to kick this jerk to the curb," grumbled the thuggish blond. As one the trio began their infiltration.)
(Within reality, Makoto Niijima — having tailed her 'suspects' from at least two blocks back, grateful that Sakamoto and Takamaki's hair made them easy to spot — frowned when the quartet split off. As Kurusu approached the shack, she veered down the alleyway where the blond duo had gone...only to frown. "A dead end?" She quickly tested the few doors present; none would open for her. "Did they vanish?" she asked herself. Frowning, she made her way back to the sidewalk to follow Akira to Madarame's shack, only to realize he had already entered. "...can I get away with waiting for him...?" No; she had to get back home, before her sister returned from work. Another time, then...)
xxxx
Madarame, apparently, was going to be at his exhibit for a little bit longer; however, he would be back after 5:30 PM...at least, according to Yusuke.
Akira glanced at the clock on Yusuke's wall. 5:15 PM? I think we're close enough. (Come to think of it, how had Ann gotten around stripping for Yusuke the Last Time Around™? He couldn't remember if Ann had ever talked about it.)
"...are you pressed for time?" wondered Yusuke, busy sketching Akira's facial expressions into a notepad.
"Not particularly," remarked Akira, glancing over at a familiar canvas; since yesterday, Yusuke had added long, black wings, extending from old-faced man's shoulder blades. They were practically a match for Arsène's wings. (What sort of insight allowed artists like Yusuke to see that sort of thing?) "...I did some reading, after yesterday." When Yusuke didn't say anything, Akira said, "There are a lot of rumors about your master."
"He is not a plagiarist," Yusuke impulsively snarled.
"I said nothing about plagiarism."
Yusuke winced.
Akira kept pressing. "I also found an old article about a former pupil named Nakanohara." The very mention of Nakanohara's name had elicited a grimace of recognition from Yusuke. "What happened to him? Because according to some rumors, he's a clerk at the local ward office...which doesn't fit someone who was so excited by art. Did he get kicked out? Why?"
"He's..."
"And other rumors spoke of at least one pupil committing suicide." Yusuke's eyes darkened, yet he did not protest; Akira kept on. "I also tried looking up the identities of Madarame's other pupils...because with how long his career is, he's had a lot. Yet none of them ever reached his level of success...and at some point, they all but disappear from any art publications." Akira decided to go for the killshot. "That painting at the gallery; the only one you were uncertain of when giving me the tour: that was yours, wasn't it?" Scratch that, make that two killshots. "That's why you're insistent on this new piece being done before the exhibit, aren't you? Madarame wants to debut it as his own work. Just imagine it: the adulation of the public masses, given to a man stealing from his own pupil."
Yusuke finally showed some semblance of spine. "I...will not have you slandering Sensei..."
(His voice sounded so defeated.)
(It makes your blood boil.)
Akira shot to his feet, startling the lanky boy. "I've known you for only four days..." (He'd known him for so much longer.) "...but I can tell that your whole life revolves around art. So why are you lying about art?!"
That accusation rooted Yusuke to his feet, eyes wide with shock.
"...where's your bathroom?" murmured Akira, barely managing to keep the anger out of his voice.
"...down the hall...the first door on your right..." Yusuke stared at his sketch pad, as if trying to divine a message from the various facial expressions he had drawn in pencil.
Akira quickly went to the restroom...and then, instead of heading back to Yusuke's room, veered towards the Door™. The large padlock was practically an antique, yet thick enough that cutting it open would have been difficult without industrial tools.
In the face of his lock-picks, Akira managed to open it within two minutes; it clattered noisily to the ground, sounding unnaturally loud. And here we go.
A disturbed voice echoed from behind. "...what...what are you doing...?"
Akira stuffed his hands into his pockets, not turning around to face Yusuke. "A man who puts on airs of living an ascetic lifestyle; someone who's spoken of as a genius artist that shares room and board with any student willing to learn; a hermit living in a shack that would probably run afoul of a lot of modern building codes...what business does someone like that have, putting an enormous lock on such a gaudy door?" Akira soberly looked over his shoulder, noting the utter dread in Yusuke's eyes: the dread of a student breaking his master's rule...the dread of someone who feared what the truth could look like. "I don't know if you've seen any news lately about my school...but there was a teacher who gave me really bad vibes. And right now...so is your master." Glancing at the door, he asked, "What is it that he feels like he has to hide from you?"
"Wait, don't-!"
Akira opened the door and stepped inside; Yusuke, out of sheer panic, followed him.
The answer to Akira's question: dozens and dozens of copies of the Sayuri...and, underneath a purple cloth, was the original article. Of that, Yusuke was absolutely certain. "But...there have been rumors for years about how it was stolen...in the art world, the fate of what became of the true Sayuri is a mystery...!" He looked at several of the copies, and seemed to recoil. "And these...these are but pale imitations..."
"A mystery, huh? If your master has the original, why would he let such a falsehood run rampant? And why would someone of his caliber need to make subpar copies of his most famous work?" Akira only needed to list a couple of possible reasons. "Money laundering? Counterfeits, to dupe unsuspecting buyers on the private market? Regardless...it's not a good look...and highly suspicious." Quietly, Akira took a few pictures of the room with his phone; the real Sayuri featured prominently in one. "Either way...treating his own art like this...what does it say about him?"
Yusuke was too stunned to speak; his expression belonged to that of a pious man that had witnessed sacrilege.
It was not until the sound of a door opening downstairs sounded that he broke out of his mental fugue. "I'm home," exclaimed Madarame from downstairs.
Yusuke flinched with utter terror. "No-!"
It's now or never. "You deserve better than this, Kitagawa-san...but right now, what you need is to witness just how your master sees the world." Akira opened the Meta-Nav, and placed his hand on Yusuke's shoulder. "Ichiryusai Madarame; plagiarism; shack; museum."
"Beginning navigation," chirped his phone.
And just like that, the world around Akira and Yusuke fell away.
xx
(Madarame advanced up the stairs, wondering where Yusuke was.)
(When he came upon the locked room that was no longer locked, he felt a thrill of terror run down his spine.)
(And just like that, a barrier gave way within his own cognition, before it could have ever been witnessed...)
xxxx
Where once had been Akira Kurusu and Yusuke Kitagawa, standing idly within the rundown domicile of a self-professed hermit...there now stood Joker and Yusuke Kitagawa, seeing the overly glamorous halls of Japan's Greatest Artist™.
The utter shock of it all made Yusuke balk. "What...what is this place...?" Turning back towards his model, the young artist marveled the transformation. "Those clothes...what happened?"
"There's a world born of human minds, existing alongside reality; it's known as the Metaverse," explained Joker. "Those with distorted desires...their cognitions are like cancerous tumors, swelling and growing uncontrollably in the Metaverse. What you see right now..." Joker gestured with his arms at the surrounding expanse, with all the flair of a showman. "...is a reflection of how Madarame sees his home: his heart, in other words."
"...he sees it as this...garish and tasteless blight...?" Yusuke shook his head. "If the man I knew doesn't exist...but...the obligation I owe him..." Yusuke nearly fell to his knees, supported by Joker's hand underneath his shoulder. "Kurusu-san...?"
"In this place, call me Joker." Flashing a confident smile, he said, "My friends from before? They're like me: people with powers, who can enter this world to change the hearts of criminals."
Yusuke frowned, slowly rising to his feet; with an almost petulant grimace, he pushed Joker's hand off of his shoulder. "Let us...leave this place..."
"Then follow me," said Joker, gesturing back towards the doors leading down the Palace, rather than up to the top. "Stay close; these places have monsters which can prey on the unsuspecting." I hope the others have at least been doing fine on their own...
xxxx
(Meanwhile, further down in the Palace, Panther was trying her utmost not to strangle Mona. Skull leaned against a wall, panting heavily. Behind them, a large and open display area was utterly in shambles, scorched by fire and lightning.)
("Mona...what did you warn us about?" asked Panther in an all-too-sweet tone.)
(The Most Definitely Not a Cat™ gulped. "Not to get distracted by treasure?")
("And what did you do?")
(Mona stared guiltily back at a charred pile of gold, surrounded by the broken remnants of a laser security system. "...got distracted by treasure.")
("And how many enemies did that draw on us?")
("...way too many for comfort...?")
("...I'm all up for never telling Joker about this," groaned Skull, greedily downing a can of soda to replenish his stamina.)
("Agreed," chorused Panther and Mona, as everyone gathered themselves before moving on.)
xxxx
As Joker cautiously led Yusuke through Madarame's Palace, he quietly listened as the artistic boy observed the gaudy decor, muttering about its repulsiveness.
When they moved through a hall containing pictures of former pupils — some of whom Yusuke recognized — the boy whispered about the utter vanity of it all.
Then, as they moved beyond the display of the great wellspring — a golden statue; an idol, dedicated to the lives consumed by Madarame's vainglory — Shadows emerged to block their path...and the Ruler of the Palace himself arrived.
"Welcome, to the museum of the master artist, Madarame!" exclaimed Madarame's Shadow: clad in robes of gold, with a painted face, and a topknot styled in the manner of a brush and a daimyo right out of the eras of the shogun.
And so began the boasting; the gloating; the outright glee with which Madarame's Shadow spoke of his ill-gotten gains, and the futures of pupils he had reaped for his own fame.
(How dearly did Madarame wish for the truth to be known, if his Shadow spoke so openly and without prompting?)
(Can you tell if it's driven by remorse? Or by some twisted desire to be praised and seen in all his corruption?)
And thus, in the face of a truth he could no longer deny, Yusuke could do nothing but laugh. "How amusing...it seems the truth is stranger than fiction, hm?"
"Indeed," answered Joker, standing with his back to Yusuke; Shiki-Ouji stood, ready to attack the enemies at a moment's notice. "So...what are you going to do, now?"
"...I had clouded my vision for so long...my eyes were truly blind..." Even as Yusuke waxed eloquent, his voice slowly began to burn with righteous anger. "...I called myself an artist: someone who could see the truth of beauty...yet I couldn't bring myself to see the wretched falsehoods wrought by this man's horrid facade...!"
And thus did Yusuke Kitagawa finally come to his senses: donning the mask of Fox (not yet named), he sallied forth alongside Goemon.
(The battle raged; shortly thereafter, Joker saw his fellow Phantom Thieves finally storming into the battle from behind the mass of Shadows.)
(Time to go.)
xxxx
On their way out of the Palace, Joker boggled at the sight of a room that looked like it had been set on fire and struck by lightning dozens of times over. "What the hell happened here?" asked Joker, using a shoulder to help a flagging Yusuke move along.
"Nothing!" chorused Skull, Panther, and Mona.
xxxx
After departing Madarame's Palace — using Ryuji's alleyway entry into the Metaverse as the whole group's exit point — they retreated to a restaurant in Shibuya.
(For some reason, Akira had recalled them eating at the Bikkuri Boy diner, not Big Bang Burger...oh well, it was no big deal. He was hungry!)
Yusuke had already confessed to knowing the reality of Madarame's plagiarism for years; alas, his hesitancy, born of his sense of obligation to the man he called 'father', had earned sympathy from the others. In turn, the situation with Kamoshida at Shujin had been elaborated on in more detail. "I had occasionally heard about these 'Phantom Thieves' when news about that former Olympian's confession came to light earlier this month...to think my chosen model was of such a grandiose character."
Akira, chewing quite happily into a Big Bang Burger, simply shrugged.
At this point, Yusuke's request to join was a fait accompli, and the decision to fully infiltrate Madarame's Palace to the end was set in stone. (Alas, there were still a few uncertainties; was he forgetting something...?)
"Do you know what happened after you and Akira left?" asked Ann.
"Madarame-sens..." Yusuke caught himself, sighing openly at his old habit. "Madarame left a voicemail, asking about my whereabouts, and if I had been at the shack this afternoon. He did not say anything about the unlocked door, or the Sayuri..."
"Just tell him that I offered to buy you dinner in return for the modelling opportunity," seamlessly said Akira after swallowing a mouthful of burger. "Which is kind of technically true, given that I'm buying your meal."
Yusuke, looking down at his tray of fast food, remarked, "A veritable smorgasbord of food that is an intersection of the cheap, the culinary, and the convenient...you don't have to."
Akira arched an eyebrow. "Did you bring any money with you?"
"I have not," instantly answered Yusuke without batting an eye. "Ah. I see your point."
"Well there we go, problem solved." Still...if I'm remembering things right, Madarame had a bit of a security system in his Palace. How do we go about ensuring he still feels the heat? How to ensure he continues to feel vulnerable until we can finish infiltrating...?
As Akira pondered his options, he let the quiet conversation of his friends fill the air of their booth.
("By the way, why is your cat able to talk?" nonchalantly asked Yusuke.)
("You've got something to say about?" challenged Morgana.)
("If by that you mean if I asked a question, then yes," said Yusuke, utterly nonplussed.)
(Ryuji snorted, whilst Ann simply sighed.)
For a moment, it felt like the Last Time Around™, having dinner while catching up with old friends...
xxxx
It was on the way back to Leblanc that an idea came to Akira, as he observed the Thieves' group chat — now with Yusuke added — scroll on by.
Yusuke: Madarame has been busy dealing with his own private security.
Yusuke: He seems rathered frustrated by the whole affair.
Ann: Has he confronted you about it?
Yusuke: No.
Yusuke: Perhaps he thinks I would have already confronted him about the Sayuri, given my fondness for it.
Ryuji: is this security force gonna be a problem?
Ryuji: for his cognito or somethin'?
Ann: Cognition! -.-
Ryuji: yeah yeah
Akira's eyes widened as an epiphany hit him. Sitting in front of the coin-operated laundry machines in Yongen-Jaya—waiting for his pile of dirty clothes and uniforms to run through the wash—he texted Futaba.
Akira: Quick question
Akira: Is it possible for you to alter the metadata of some photos I took?
Akira: Even remove it entirely?
ALIBABA: An unusually sophisticated question from you.
ALIBABA: But yes. It is trivial for me.
Akira: I figured
Akira: [three images attached]
ALIBABA: So these must be the 'Sayuri' copies I overheard you talking about.
Akira: I've got a possible angle against Madarame
Akira: But I don't want these photos to be traced back to my phone
ALIBABA: Trivial enough.
ALIBABA: I will forward you the 'cleaned' copies shortly.
ALIBABA: But first, I have a question.
Akira: Yes?
ALIBABA: Shortly after these were taken, all surveillance from your phone ceased.
ALIBABA: And this is not the only time it's happened.
ALIBABA: How are you accomplishing this?
It must be when I enter the Metaverse, mused Akira. He decided for sheer honesty.
Akira: I entered another world where our technology doesn't work.
xxxx
(Futaba stared at her computer screen. Her impulse was to immediately spite him for giving an unserious answer. And yet...why couldn't she dismiss the possibility...?)
xxxx
ALIBABA: Fine, be that way.
ALIBABA: I look forward to the results of your next heist.
Akira smiled, looking over at Morgana. "You enjoying yourself?"
The Most Definitely Not a Cat™, resting atop the vibrating washing machine, purred with contentment from the rumbling.
"I figured." He quickly opened a message log with a certain journalist's phone number, and asked Ichiko Ohya if she would be willing to meet him tomorrow to discuss Madarame in more detail.
xxxx
Day: May 17th, 2016
I let a lonely fox enter a secret door; he looked sad at the sight of a long-lost mother.
I think this fox will be a worthwhile companion.
Also, it turns out that 'starving artist' is no mere turn of phrase, because I saw one devour a burger in, like, five seconds.
Blond 1 was very impressed. Blonde 2, less so.
(Side note: invest in a tiny massage chair for my cat. If the vibrations make him go to sleep before I, then he can't yell at me to go to sleep! There are no flaws in such a perfect plan!)
xxxx
/Wednesday: May 18, 2016/
After school, Akira Kurusu — briefly stopping in a restroom to change out of his school uniform and into some casual clothes — calmly made his way to Shinjuku via the Yamanote line.
("There's apparently a bar in Shinjuku where a reporter that's looking into Madarame wants to have a chat," he explained to Ryuji and Ann during the lunch period: they had the vending machine corner to themselves, since apparently students were still rather leery of him. "I'm going to see if we can use this to keep the pressure on Madarame, and make his Palace a bit less troublesome to deal with." He assured the two — especially Ryuji, who had really wanted an excuse to go to Shinjuku — that he would be fine with just Morgana. "Compared to the stuff I've seen out in the country? Shinjuku doesn't scare me...and besides, it's strictly business. I won't be there to enjoy the sights.")
(For some reason, you feel like you dodged a bullet by making sure Ryuji didn't come...)
Akira briefly looked back at his phone, reviewing the private chat he'd had earlier with Yusuke.
Akira: How is Madarame?
Yusuke: He has been in a foul mood all day.
Yusuke: He specifically requested assistance at the exhibit after school.
Yusuke: A shame; I still have more touches to make on my work.
Akira: Can you do me a favor?
Yusuke: But of course.
Akira: Send me a list of all of the names of Madarame's former pupils that you can remember.
Akira: It'll be good information for a reporter I know who's writing a story about your sensei.
Yusuke: I see.
Akira: I'll make sure to keep your name quiet, if you'd prefer.
Yusuke: Very well.
Given how long Yusuke had lived with Madarame, it should have been no surprise that he would end up forwarding well north of thirty names. And these are just the ones Yusuke remembers, mused Akira as the train finally reached Shinjuku Station. How many more slipped through the cracks?
Stepping out into the glitz and neon glamor, Akira felt a strange pang of nostalgia hit him. He hadn't had many occasions to visit Shinjuku as he had gotten older, but he distinctly recalled the district becoming less colorful, and lacking in pop and energy...then again, maybe that had been because most of his adult visits had been during the daytime? I wonder...did I become boring?
(You have a strange definition of 'boring'...)
(Well, Haru, his family, and his friends had never considered him to be 'boring'; life hadn't been boring. Ergo, he had not become boring. Simple logic, yet effective!)
"The air here smells funky," grumbled Morgana, poking his head out of the bookbag.
"Sorry. I'll move on." Akira made a show of looking down at Ohya's business card for 'directions', ignoring the host club barkers and bar promoters. he weaved in and around the crowds, eventually making his way to BAR CROSSROADS, complete with the charming little snail logo. Ah, right...after Ohya moved to Kyoto and Lala Escargot retired, there wasn't much reason to come here at night.
The decor and purple lighting were instantly memorable. Ohya sat in front of the bar, whilst the proprietor — stocky, clad in a dark kimono with yellow designs, with a purple bob cut — looked at him with a wary expression. "How old are ya, boy?" asked Lala with a husky voice.
"I've qualified as a senior citizen, I'll have you know," said Akira. Technically not a lie.
Ohya giggled at his apparent joke, whilst Lala huffed. "Being able to lie so easily, from one so young? You're a troublemaker."
Given that I think coming here might be technically violating my probation? Who knows. "I'm here to talk with Ohya-san about business. Mind if I have a soda?" he asked, handing out some yen notes to the bartender.
"You heard the guy, Lala-chan!" cheered Ohya, clearly inebriated already.
Lala sighed, accepting Akira's cash payment. "Just don't let the minor drink any alcohol, and we won't have any problems." After receiving a glass of soda, Akira followed Ohya to a booth near the back.
"Ugh, she reeks of booze," grumbled Morgana.
The reporter laughed, pointing at his bookbag with a grin. "Ha ha! Your bag has a cat in it."
"I know, it's the coolest, isn't it?" Leaning onto the table with his elbows, he said, "So. I understand that the information you've already received has been fruitful?"
Ohya snorted. "You kidding? I had a one-on-one interview with Nakanohara during lunch today; he was practically ecstatic at the thought of talking about Madarame's abusive ways to a receptive audience. The question is, can I corroborate his story?" Sipping from her whiskey, the reporter grumbled, "Nakanohara's reputation within the art world is already persona non grata, so I need more details; more information; more contacts."
"How fortunate for us both that I have a good source. Does your phone accept texts?"
Ohya grinned. "Hit me!"
Akira forwarded the list of names given to him by Yusuke. "Per my source, these are all former pupils of Madarame." Here's the shot...
"Ooh, they even come with a rough time frames of when they were with him? That's useful stuff..." One of the names made her frown. "And this matches the name of the student Nakanohara said committed suicide..." The intrepid journalist pulled out a notepad, briefly writing a few things down. "Hmm..."
...and the chaser. "My source also provided me some photos of a rather interesting scene." He forwarded the Alibaba-Cleaned™ photos of the Sayuri and its numerous copies to Ohya. "These are, allegedly, from inside Madarame's shack from some time period earlier this year." Technically correct, since yesterday counted as 'earlier this year'.
Ohya's eyes narrowed. "Madarame's most famous work...with a bunch of counterfeits? Why?"
"Can you think of a reason that people would call good? Or would they all be bad reasons?"
"...good point, kid. Ah, so much juicy stuff..." Ohya looked at him intently, her shrewd nature peering out through the fog of drunkenness. "You...have a surprising amount of connections for a kid from Shujin."
Morgana balked. "How does she know...?"
Ohya huffed. "You look shocked; I recognized your uniform when we first met. Given the news about Kamoshida, you shouldn't be surprised." Taking another sip, she murmured, "You think all that stuff about the Phantom Thieves is real?"
"Who knows," Akira cryptically said. "If they're real, they managed to bring down a scumbag. That makes them fine by me."
"Ah, so the kid has claws!"
Akira sipped his soda, keeping a lock on Ohya's eyes. "Will this be enough for you to write an article that'll make Madarame feel the heat?"
"...and what's it to you if I do?" she asked seriously.
"Because I think journalism, if done for the right reason, can shine the light of truth on those who have hidden their misdeeds in the shadows for too long. If that had happened, maybe it wouldn't have taken the likes of the Phantom Thieves to stop the likes of Kamoshida. You get my drift?"
For some reason, Ohya temporarily sobered up, if only to frown with disdain. "...an idealist, huh?"
"An idealist with good info and good sources, Miss Cynical," he shot back without hesitation.
"HA! You have a point." Ohya swirled the ice in her glass, as if hypnotized by it. "Who cares if you're naive? So long as you provide me good scoops for eye-catching stories, I'll write about whatever the hell you want. Sound like a deal?"
Akira raised his glass. "Let's make a toast to it, then."
"Ah, someone who has manners!" cheered Ohya as they clinked their glasses.
(And thus, your Devil Confidant has once more flared its wicked wings...)
xxxx
It was after leaving Crossroads when Akira heard a voice call out for him. "Hmm?" The sight of a woman with natural blonde hair and a thick navy blue headband elicited a blink of shock. Well well well, isn't THIS a sight for sore eyes?
The woman — clad in a long-sleeved shirt and a light purple dress with clockwork designs on the surface; sitting behind a simple table covered in cloth, upon which sat a whole deck of tarot cards — seemed downright bewildered at the sight of him. "Young man...I sense a strange fate around you...please, let me examine your future!"
"Joker, do we have time for this...?" grumbled Morgana from within his bookbag.
"...and you are...?" asked Akira, ignoring Morgana's question as he set him down. I don't remember meeting her this early...then again, I never came to Shinjuku this early either.
"My name is Chihaya Mifune, young sir. If you would be so kind, I would like to read your fortune. Could I please have your name?"
(The last time he had laid eyes upon this woman, it had been on the news in his Former Life™; apparently, having an actual gift for clairvoyance had helped her become an advisor for the Prime Minister. Who would have thought?) "Okay then..." Akira decided to play a brief game, and just threw out an entirely random pseudonym. "Ren Amamiya."
xxxx
/Meanwhile, back in the present timeline/
Ryuji Sakamoto arched an eyebrow. "You gave her your current name?"
Ren Amamiya shrugged, finding himself a bit perturbed now that he recalled it. "I didn't think anything of it at the time..." Then again, if we've lived through countless timelines before...who's to say I didn't go by Ren Amamiya before?
"Can we continue on?" asked Misato Katsuragi.
"Yeah. Tell me about your encounter with...Chihaya," murmured Ryuji, glancing at the cognitive picture frame on the wall, bearing the image of his first wife as he remembered her.
Ren nodded.
xxxx
/Back to the prior timeline.../
Chihaya frowned. "It's not nice to lie, sir."
Akira chuckled. "Just testing you. It's Akira Kurusu."
This seemed to mollify her. Shuffling her deck of cards, Chihaya quietly spread out seven. "O divine power," she intoned, "Show me the fate of this young man...!"
The first card she turned over was of the World Arcana, upright.
Huh, thought Akira with an arched eyebrow. Haven't seen that card in awhile.
"The World: someone who has achieved complete control over themselves and their surroundings: a person in complete harmony with themselves and their circumstances." With a strange frown, Chihaya flipped another card, her hand moving seemingly of its volition. "The Tower: a sudden, unsuspected turmoil struck you down." Flip. "Death, reversed: I see a resistance to change...or a fear of it...?" Flip. "The Ace of Swords: a possibility for something new..." Flip. "The Ace of Cups, reversed: yet there's still a sense of exhaustion and chaos amidst so many demands..." Flip. "The Two of Swords: in spite of it all, you're still striving to maintain a balance amidst the tension of life..." As her hand hovered over the seventh card in the center, she looked up at Akira, as if trying to challenge him.
He tried to give nothing away, yet he couldn't help but marvel at how accurate it summarized his life broad strokes since awakening in this timeline. So. What do your 'powers' see...?
With a stern frown, Chihya inexplicably rotated the center card by ninety degrees before flipping it over. "The Wheel of Fortune: in the upright position, it represents the inevitability of fate and the cycle of life...with all the good and the bad that comes with it. But in the reversed position, it represents the reality that whatever misfortunes that have afflicted you are beyond your ability to control...and that trying to change the inevitable will only bring more suffering, thus preventing the wheel from moving forward..." Chihaya looked utterly perturbed. "I...could not bring myself to have the card come out either completely upright or completely reversed...for it to be Fortune means your fate is truly in flux..." Staring at him with a somber expression, she asked, "I see someone who has broken free from a lonely cell...only to wind up back there...in the face of a terrible Ruin..."
...yeah, that about checks out. "Comes with being a delinquent student who transferred out from the country to the big city, I'm afraid," he said, trying to lighten the mood.
She seemed to briefly jolt at the mention of 'the country' before coming back to her senses. "Well...my predictions are always right. Fate is absolute...yet your fate is still up in the air. This 'Ruin' is true...so how can it be avoided...?" At that moment, she adopted a more formal and assured tone of voice. "But I have something that can help you escape this uncertainty: my Holy Stone!" She quietly placed the little trinket upon the table, its surface and edges finely smoothened out. "With this, I'm almost certain that you can avoid this unfortunate fate of yours! At the low cost of one hundred thousand yen, you'll be able to sap away the horrible energy that's plaguing you!"
"...is she for real?" asked Morgana from below.
Akira quietly grabbed the 'Holy Stone', as if appraising its quietly. Then, he took a dramatic sniff of it. "...I can find a cheaper Holy Stone, thank you kindly."
Chihaya balked. "Excuse me?"
"I mean, this is just rock salt." His tone brooked no disagreement or debate. "I mean, sure, if you had it blessed, then it might be useful against evil spirits and whatnot..."
Chihaya seemed utterly flummoxed that her scheme had been called out. "Wha...what? I mean, hey, it's not rock salt, ya hear me?!" She impulsively slapped a hand on her mouth, as if trying to block her native accent.
(And oh, the timing...)
A sudden gust of wind rushed down the alleyway, threatening to blow the cards away; Chihaya impulsively slapped her hands down, but two got away.
(Max Proficiency!)
Akira swiped the two cards, one in each hand. He quietly brought them back down, staring meaningfully at Chihaya. "Fate is absolute, huh? Well...it depends on what you mean by 'fate'. Because somethings are inevitable, true..." He flipped the card in his left hand over, holding it between two fingers: the Wheel of Fortune, upright. "Every human enters this world as a helpless infant...and every human is destined to die. Yet the paths they take to get from the beginning to the end...are not set in stone." He flipped the card in his right hand over, showing it to her: the World, upright. "And if you think I'm going to let the threat of a mysterious Ruin keep me from striving for the world I dream of...then 'Fate' can get stuffed."
Chihaya seemed to ponder his words; in particular, she seemed to treat the two cards he had grabbed out of the air with much greater gravity than he did. "...Fate cannot be changed. And yet...I cannot deny the oddities about your reading." Pouting and mumbling under her breath, she asked, "I'd like to test your strange determination against unopposable destinies...and see which one will come out on top. And in return...I can read your fortune! I'll even prioritize you over my other customers! So...do we have a deal...?"
He had forgotten how cute Chihaya could be when she was uncertain of herself. (Yet another person brought back to a younger age, removed of the trials and tribulations that had helped them become the adults he remembered from the Last Time Around™...and there was no guarantee it would all turn out the same way.) I'll just have to deal. "Sure."
(And thus did the Wheel of Fortune Confidant turn anew...)
xx
After exchanging contact info, Akira moved on. Morgana, emerging from his bookbag, asked, "Do you actually believe any of the stuff she was talking about...?"
"We can only wait and see," cryptically remarked Akira.
xxxx
Day: May 18th, 2016
Ran into a drunken devil of a woman. At least she was a happy drunk.
Also got my fortune told by a Clock Lady; the wind apparently disagreed with the prediction provided.
Many thanks, Winds of Change!
(Random question of the day: would fortune tellers make good card dealers at a casino?)
xxxx
The next few days proceeded relatively quietly, as the Phantom Thieves awaited for the bomb to drop regarding Ohya's article about Madarame.
xxxx
Day: May 19th, 2016
Hung out with Ann after school. She seemed rather intent on improving the strength of her heart by having me insult her.
(To be fair, I don't get it either.)
It seems like she feels like she can't make amends with Shiho until she can honestly stand up for herself.
I told her that if she really wants to prove that, she needs to tell her parents about what happened with Kamoshida.
She had her excuses: they travel a lot; they're putting on fashion shows in Europe and the Americas; they probably won't be stopping back in Japan until summer at least.
I told her that they're going to find out eventually. It can either come from her, or it could be from people making inquiries on behalf of the media or the police, or it could be because her home's caretaker (whoever they) just casually mentioning the Incident™ whenever they contact the people who signs their paychecks.
To her credit, she said she'll think about it.
(On an unrelated note, Sojiro now considers my coffee to be 'passable'.)
xxxx
Day: May 20th, 2016
Midterm scores came out. I got in the Top 10!
(I feel slightly vexed by the fact that history is the one subject which kept me from getting higher. It's not my fault that the exam material is outdated!)
Ended up hanging out with Shiho. She spoke about striking up a friendship with a first-year named Yoshizawa. (The Redhead with the Ribbon!)
She seems of the opinion that she isn't worthy of being Ann's friend until she can prove that her skills aren't fake.
I'm half-tempted to smack both of them with pieces of bread and tell them that they're being idiot sandwiches.
Does that reference exist yet?
After temporarily suspending this entry to double-check, I can confirm that it is an existent reference. Go me!
(Am I cheering myself for not being forgetful, or for letting too much of my humor be derivative? My mind never rests...)
xxxx
Day: May 21st, 2016
Ryuji wanted to blow off some steam at the arcade. (Apparently, he didn't do too well on the midterms.)
I did him one better and said we should go to Akihabara.
Ran into the little shooter munchkin. And he's still rather testy. (When even Ryuji thinks you swear too much, you've got issues.)
But hey, the guy apparently has...Family Drama™! (Then again, who doesn't?)
I'm sure he'll be fine.
Then I dragged Ryuji to the nearby maid cafe. Why? Because I thought it would be funny.
And it was. (His attempts at 'scolding' our maid Clara were so weak that she actually got mad at him for not being meaner!)
I forgave the maid for her clumsiness, and forgave Ryuji for not knowing how the Rules™ worked.
(I think I ruined maid cafes for him. Totally worth it!)
P.S. In all fairness, the only reason I know so much about maid cafes is because Sora-chan is an enthusiast for all things 'retro'.
Or "was", I should say.
I miss her.
xx
Akira quietly leaned back, briefly thinking about his eldest daughter — Sora Kurusu: a spirited girl, no matter her age; a girl who had prided herself on old-fashioned interests, remaining 'free' from the fads and trends of the age; a girl who had grown into a happy woman, and that woman was gone — from an entirely different life. With all that he had done to keep himself occupied and busy, the quiet moments were few and far between.
And without an immediate plan for future events to occupy his mind...the past had come back with a vengeance.
Akira quietly stood up from his desk—"Just using the toilet, Morgana," he said to the cat on the verge of falling asleep—to head to the lavatory downstairs. Turning the sink on to a small yet audible trickle, he sat on the toilet and simply...existed, for a few seconds.
(Maybe it had been Chihaya's recent reading of him; she had been close enough on certain things that it only brought to mind just what he had lost.)
(Did you really think you had moved on...?)
With his fake glasses upstairs, there was nothing to keep Akira from pressing his palms up against his eyes; the slight pressure was enough to keep the tears from coming, because if he started now then he might not ever stop...
Heart heavy with melancholy, Akira quietly washed his hands and stared in the mirror at his reflection. A face without wrinkles, and a head without graying hairs...
What he wouldn't give to wake back up in the life he had been pulled away from.
This game sucks.
But it was one he had no choice but to play...and nothing less than victory would satisfy him.
xxxx
/Sunday: May 22, 2016/
That morning, Yusuke had alerted everyone via the group chat about an article published in the daily Maiasa Newspaper.
Gathering at their 'hideout' at the Teikyu Accessway, everyone looked at the online article —'Former pupils accuse Ichiryusai Madarame of abuse, plagiarism'—with some measure of disbelief and incredulity.
"Man, this is crazy!" said Ryuji with a grin.
Akira, because he was something of a 'fuddy-duddy', had actually purchased a copy of the newspaper in question. No mention of the photos or the Sayuri copies...perhaps Ohya's holding them off for a future article? "I wonder if the 'public interest' of this story will be enough to keep Madarame from successfully suing for defamation..."
"He was absolutely incensed this morning when it was brought to his attention," remarked Yusuke, a contemplative look on his face.
"Does...he suspect you?" asked Ann.
"I wouldn't think so," remarked Akira. "Yusuke's name isn't mentioned at all."
"I believe I am safe, for now," said Yusuke. "I was just as surprised by the article as he was." Nakanohara and several other pupils had been mentioned by name, and Ohya had apparently gotten all of them to go on the record. "Were it not for the ongoing exhibit, I'm sure he would have already taken action."
Ryuji snorted. "That d-bag's too used to getting his way."
"But this is probably the first time anyone's dared to oppose Madarame so publicly or blatantly," said Morgana, his tail wiggling with excitement. "His cognition must have been affected negatively by this turn of events!"
As Akira finished reading the article, he remarked, "Unfortunately, the reporter's problem is going to be whether or not she can establish reasonable grounds for the truth of these allegations. Sure, she has the words of former pupils to rely upon, but will it be enough?" He could envision Madarame launching a defamation lawsuit against all parties involved; he could even imagine the newspaper finding it preferable to cast their 'sources' under the bus if Madarame turned up the heart (regardless of Ohya's opinion on the matter). "At this juncture...a confession is the best bet for everyone involved."
The Phantom Thieves all nodded. The game plan was set: infiltrate the Palace; secure their route to the Treasure; deliver the Calling Card; and, finally, change Madarame's heart.
"Will Madarame be expecting you back anytime soon?"
Yusuke shook his head. "He told me to stay away from the exhibit today, out of concern for the presence of the paparazzi. I believe the prospect of turning against him has yet to be fully countenanced..."
Ryuji grinned. "Guess we'll just have to show him, eh?"
"...then let's head on out." If nothing else, the prospect of fighting through Madarame's Palace was enough to be a balm for his soul. It's showtime.
xxxx
Akira Kurusu, Morgana, Ryuji Sakamoto, Ann Takamaki, and their newest ally — Yusuke Kitagawa — shifted out of reality and into the Metaverse, using the same alleyway across the street as before.
Emerging into the open, Skull balked. "The hell?!"
"Whoa...it looks so different...!" marvelled Panther.
Mona huffed, adjusting his yellow bandana. "Looks like Madarame really got rattled."
Where before had been a line of cognitions waiting patiently to get into the Museum of Vanity, now there were rabid mobs trying to break through the walls. Shadows, dressed like guards at the museum, were relentlessly brutalizing the horde trying to break inside, whilst doing their utmost to protect the 'normal' cognitions who were actually 'present' to see Madarame's work. In addition, where before the spotlights had all pointed to the sky, a great many of them now shined down upon the masses.
"...what does all of this mean...?" murmured Yusuke, impulsively raising his mask to get a better view.
"Your 'master' has begun to view the masses with more paranoia, even as he recognizes to some degree that he can't treat his 'customers' with universal suspicion..." There's a lot of Shadows on the perimeter, now. "Getting in is going to be tougher...but if we can slip past them, then the inside should be easier on us." Glancing up at the adjacent building, a thought came to mind. "Say, Mona...you made sure to finish working on our new comrade's grappling hook?"
Mona huffed, pulling out another device from nowhere (proverbially) behind his back (literally). "You think I've been wasting these past few days?"
As the Most Definitely Not a Cat™ gave Yusuke his own grappling hook, Joker quietly scanned the perimeter, trying to divine what would be the best angle of approach. If we got on top of the roof here...and then aimed for the giant sign, we might be able to skip the first floor entirely. So focused was he on the fundamental math of their approach that he only belatedly realized that they were trying to decide on Yusuke's codename. "How about Fox?" he idly remarked.
"...isn't that just the same thing as a Kitsune?" asked Panther.
"Well, we've kind of stuck with non-Japanese words so far, so we might as well stick with the theme," said Joker with a shrug.
"...a fair enough point. After all, a fox is simply a young kitsune that has yet to fully awaken their supernatural abilities...and I find myself in the position of having to awaken from a self-imposed prison," mused Yusuke, glancing at his mask with appreciation. "Although...does that imply Morgana's inspiration is the Mona Lisa?"
"I have no idea what that is," flatly said Mona.
"Ah. A shame. I will have to show you a picture once we leave."
With codename decided, Joker led the Phantom Thieves to the top of the roof, using the opportunity to teach Yusuke about how to use his new grapple hook. With their vantage point obtained, Mona decided to take point. "Aim for a point you can grab..." Chyoom, went the cable; it crossed the street, hook latching onto the golden corner of one of the kanji on the museum's sign. "...and let it reel you in!" The anthropomorphic monster cat cackled as he shot over the road, avoiding the hordes of cognitions and Shadows.
Joker gestured to his fellows. "After you."
Skull and Panther managed to make it across; having seen three examples, Fox was more willing than before. Joker, smiling to himself, brought up the rear; with all five Thieves standing upon the roof, they piled into the nearest window and entered the Palace proper.
xxxx
It was to their great fortune that they entered near the Second Exhibition Room, wherein lied the door to a Will Seed.
"How macabre," murmured Fox, gazing at the skull-shaped plant with a discerning eye. The disturbed echoes of Madarame's voice echoed from all around, commenting about how lies would become 'facts' if left alone for long enough. "And how morbid..."
"A sad view of humanity as a whole," murmured Joker, grabbing for the Will Seed. "Oh, and fair warning: we might witness a scene of what Madarame was like before his distortions took root."
Fox closed his eyes, contemplating the prospect with the solemnity it deserved. "...very well."
The impressions came quickly—a younger Madarame, speaking with his own teacher; an opportunity to debut on a television show, refused out of fidelity to his 'painting skills'(!); his sensei deriding his lack of talent(!), telling him to take advantage of his looks in order to make a name for himself; such ruthless and calculated pragmatism, loudly rejected by Madarame, who desired to let his art speak for itself(!)—and faded all the same.
"...was that a real memory?" asked Fox.
"As far as we've been able to ascertain, these Will Seeds portray events that are crucial to a Palace Ruler's distorted desires," explained Mona. "So crucial that they themselves don't seem to be marred by any cognition or skewed perspectives."
Fox quietly looked down at the floor, a melancholy look crossing his face. "...so he truly was beautiful once," murmured the young artist, speaking of beauty in more ways than the purely physical. "That makes his current state all the more tragic."
"Which is why we're going to put a stop to all of it," swore Skull.
Joker nodded, stuffing the Will Seed into his pocket. "Well said; let's go."
xxxx
The Palace's security was somewhat haphazard compared to what Joker remembered; it was stricter in some places, and more lax in others.
Nothing was too onerous, in his opinion; he had already managed to acquire Hua Po, Apsaras, Koropokguru, and Koppa Tengu; alas, he couldn't quite utilize more than ten currently, even though he definitely remembered being able to use up to twelve at once.
Curious; a sign of my own limitations? He had been able to adopt so many faces as a young man; doubtless he had become more settled — more prudent; more rooted in his own particular 'self', satisfied with who he was in his totality that the thought of seeking a 'new face' had become an oddity — as he had aged. Yet now, circumstances demanded versatility. I'll just have to practice at it; I can make do with ten Personas at this point in time.
And so did Joker release Cait Sith and Angel to make room for Inugami and Ame no Uzume.
(Onward and upward...)
xxxx
As Kuramu Tengu was destroyed, a certain card with a colorful design dropped to the ground. "...what a curious little piece," marvelled Fox.
...oh yeah, I remember this, thought Joker as Mona himself was distracted by the piece of colored paper. Skill Cards: used to impart moves to my Personas...
(He had been rather focused on making his own abilities as varied as possible to meet all situations before...but who was to say that his comrades couldn't use them either...?)
(Food for thought that you can chew on...)
xxxx
"Seriously, why would a security password involve his feet?!" yelled a disgusted Panther, even as Joker tried to remember the password based on the description of the giant Madarame statue.
"I...am honestly not sure," murmured Fox. "A sign of how he views the world as being beneath him? Or perhaps there is a simple numerical fixation on the digits?"
Mona tilted his head. "...why would anyone fixate on toes?"
Fox crossed his arms. "Well, now that you mention it, there was a pupil some years ago who had exquisite skill with human anatomy. For some reason, he was rather particular with his depiction of feet..."
"Gross," grumbled Skull.
The amateur artist blinked with genuine confusion. "...why would feet be inherently gross? Are they not the means by which we carry ourselves along the earth?"
Panther and Skull suddenly looked rather awkward. "...uh..."
"I think I got it! One-one-two-zero should be the password," interrupted Joker as he turned away from the statue's plaque. "Let's get back to that security station."
Fox nodded. "Very well."
As Fox and Mona moved on, Joker looked at Skull and Panther with an arched eyebrow. Finally, with a cheeky grin, he remarked, "...so that's the sort of thing that first comes to mind when you think of feet?"
"Oh shut up!" protested Skull and Panther.
Alas, their racket attracted a trio of Shadows, and the battles began anew.
xxxx
Joker could faintly remember the sensation of entering paintings to traverse parts of Madarame's Palace; it was as distinctly bizarre a feeling as he remembered, going into two-dimensional pieces with a three-dimensional frame of reference without breaking his brain.
(Truly, the ability to 'roll with it' was one of the greatest aspects of the human mind...)
However, he did not remember the kraken being so...big, before.
(Whether it was a figment of age or faulty memory, it influenced his actions accordingly.)
"...say, Skull! We're on the high seas, aren't we?!" yelled Joker, staring at the papery tentacles trying to drag down the wooden ship. "Maybe we should play the part!"
At that, Skull let loosed a devilish grin. "Now that's what I'm talking about!" With a burst of blue flames, the ship of his Persona 'burst' into view from the frame behind them, facing off against the kraken. After the Phantom Thieves gathered upon the deck of Kidd's ship, Skull commanded, "Blast 'em to bits, Captain Kidd!"
KABOOM!
Cannonballs shot into the unseen squid, tearing through the kraken's tentacles to the sound of torn paper...only for a suction-like sound to pull them out of the frame, flooding the forest of another painting, only to spill out in a heap onto scaffolding that had previously been out of reach.
...that definitely didn't go how I remembered it, mused Joker.
"Ugh, I'm covered in seawater," grumbled Panther.
"My tail seems to be soaked," observed Fox.
"All of me got soaked!" protested Mona.
Skull, squeezing at his ascot, snorted. "Ah come on, that was a blast!"
...but yeah, that was pretty fun. "In more ways than one," he joked. Getting to his feet, Joker manifested Hua Po from his mask. "Let's dry off and keep moving."
Several controlled bursts of Agi later, and the Thieves' cognition took care of the rest to remove the sensation of dampness from their persons.
xxxx
After navigating through a storage room full of paintings, they found a second Will Seed.
Visions of an older Madarame flashed by: a man at least in his 20s or 30s, visited by a concerned friend—his senpai...?—named Kawanabe; a proverbial and literal 'starving artist', eschewing creaturely comforts for the sake of 'pure beauty'; a man growing envious of the stable lives of his peers in society, whilst he labored under the title of one merely 'aspiring' to be an artist; a man with a bitter yet fierce vow to reach the top of the art world with his own strength.
Fox frowned as the memory faded.
"Is...everything okay?" asked Panther.
"An epiphany," remarked Fox. "Out of every student I can remember, I was always the one who would lose myself in my craft to the utmost, often forgetting to have meals with the others. Madarame would scold me for being so forgetful...yet he always had a strange little smile on his face. Amusement...or satisfaction...?"
"I'm not sure I get it," murmured Skull.
"...perhaps he was seeing a reflection of who he used to be," observed Mona.
"...and yet he became what he is now." Fox looked down at his hand with an expression approaching...disdain. "Am I doomed to follow the same path...?"
"It won't happen," swore Joker, his hand stuffing the green Seed of Vanity into the folds of his cloak. "Not while you've got us."
That seemed to mollify the newest member of the Phantom Thieves, and they were soon on their way.
xxxx
The Museum had given way to something truly fantastical: walls bearing golden banners and frames of Madarame's most 'productive' pupils, surrounded by folding screens and stairs going in impossible directions.
("The inspiration from Escher is undeniable," observed Fox as they walked upside-down relative to where they had entered.)
However, the influence of the Sayuri was paramount, with various copies — real and fake — lining their pathways. It did not take long for them to realize that the 'real' painting was their key to moving forward.
("Entrapped by his falsehoods, we would have no chance of making it through this twisted labyrinth, born of deception," mused Fox, staring at the intricate pattern of colors along one of the Sayuri's fake copies.)
("...say, have you ever considered trying poetry?" asked Panther. "I bet you'd rock!")
("My talent doesn't lie in the written word. Besides, I find language to be inherently limiting," blithely replied Fox. "Though I do admire some poets, like Matsuo Bashō and Masaoka Shiki...")
("Maybe we can have a slam later. Let's focus on getting out of here," said Joker, bringing everyone back on task.)
("...why would we slam each other?" asked Skull.)
("For once, Skull makes a good point," agreed Mona. "Why would we slam each other?")
(Joker rolled his eyes as the two began bantering with each other. "I'll tell you later...")
Despite the confusing pathways and at least one fake wall, they eventually made their way through.
xxxx
The room containing Madarame's Treasure — vague and cloudy; surrounded by infrared lasers; watched over by the man's Shadow himself — also had an outer perimeter, connecting to a security room and the third Will Seed chamber.
The former controlled various aspects of the Treasure Chamber, but were still closely surveilled by Shadows; a subsequent exploration of the rafters revealed a crane, which would be the key to a successful heist.
The latter was guarded by an Arahabaki, of all things.
(He didn't recall being able to fuse this Shadow until after Futaba's Palace. Why was he running into such an overpowered baddie now?!)
(You've got this.)
Even so, they triumphed. Thus was the final Will Seed, emitting a cold blue glow, theirs to claim.
This final memory was from many years after the last, with Madarame being closer in age to where he was now. There was also a woman: hidden by a canvas, keeping her and her painting from being seen. Madarame was impressed by the painting, and praised the woman openly: 'a goddess, full of affection', was how he described the painting...and he couldn't identify any errors.
("A goddess full of affection...?" muttered Fox, with dawning understanding. "...no...")
The woman's face and the painting could not be seen from any angle; as such, there was only shock at the sight of the woman collapsing to the floor from a seizure. Madarame, desperate, asked where the woman's medicine was. If she had answered at all, those words did not manifest; for Madarame — gripped by memories of the past, of how his 'debts towards his life' could only be repaid if he succeeded at art! — seemed stuck in a fugue, marvelling at how a student had surpassed her own teacher. As the woman wheezed and grew still(!), Madarame — reeling from being upstaged once more, knowing in his heart of hearts that his art would never reach the lofty heights he had long envisioned — stared at the unseen painting...with a weary contemplation.
Only after hiding the painting did he call emergency services. Thus did the memory end.
"...he let his own student die...?" growled Skull.
"...that woman...who was she...?" asked Panther.
"I...don't know. I couldn't see her face," murmured Fox, looking distraught. "The painting he took from her...could it have been...?"
"A painting without error," murmured Joker, knowing how this story ended. "What painting have we seen the most in this Palace? What painting did we see in his private room in reality?" As the trio of seeds combined into a triune crystal, Joker added, "If the Will Seeds are connected to his distorted desires..."
"...then that painting must have been the Sayuri." Fox wobbled on his feet, his strength seeming to fade; Skull quickly grabbed him around the shoulders, propping him up. "But it makes sense...how could such a vain person stomach copying his own work in such a subpar manner, over and over...? Oh, but for it to be the work of a dead pupil...a student who died in front of him...!"
With that, Joker made a decision. "Let's head back to the Safe Room; we've practically secured our infiltration route." Sorry, Yusuke; it's going to hurt more once you find out that the Sayuri's true artist was your mother.
xxxx
The air vents within the Safe Room were large enough to crawl through; after unlocking the secure grate blocking them, they were able to drop out of some exterior ductwork onto a ledge overlooking the outside...giving them access to the spotlights aiming down at the masses below.
"I think this will give us our shortcut when we return!" said Mona. "Let's knock out those lights."
It was a relatively simple matter to ambush the Shadows manning the spotlights; afterwards, with a hardy application of booted feet, the spotlights were rendered inoperable. Below, the cognitive masses — no longer blinded by the lights — surged forth with renewed frenzy, drawing more attention from the various Shadows.
After that, it was only a matter of a few precise hops and well-timed grappling hooks to land on the street beyond the masses, which now stood between them and the Shadows running security for Madarame.
"Good job, team; we've managed to finish our work in only one day," said Joker, congratulating them on their accomplishment. "Who's up for dinner?"
All of the Thieves raised their hands.
xxxx
The sun had barely set by the time the Thieves' enjoyed dinner at Ore no Beko, feasting upon hearty beef bowls to recharge after several hours of infiltrating Madarame's Palace. Because of the overall loudness of the restaurant, they communicated via the group chat.
Akira: So. Did Madarame blow up your phone?
Yusuke: It is intact.
Ryuji shot Yusuke a 'for real?' expression.
Ryuji: he means did your crap teacher leave a message or anything?
Yusuke: Ah.
Yusuke: I told him I turned off my phone so I could people watch in peace.
Yusuke: It is something I often do to seek inspiration, so I doubt he questioned it.
Ann: "people watch"? o-O
Yusuke: Observing people as they move about their lives is my favorite method of seeking artistic epiphanies.
Akira: neat
Akira: So. The calling card.
Akira: How are we going to go about it?
Yusuke: Would it be possible to see the one from Shujin for reference?
Ryuji: yeah, I took some pics. I'll forward em
Yusuke: You have my gratitude.
Akira: Let's take a few days to recover.
Ann: yes please!
Ann: We went real hard today. ^^;
Akira: Also
Akira: be careful not to let Madarame know about what we saw in the Palace.
Yusuke: I will do my utmost.
Yusuke: I still have to finish my work.
Ryuji: dude, how long does it take to finish one painting?
Yusuke impulsively looked up. "Art cannot be rushed."
"Sheesh, I was just asking a question," grumbled Ryuji.
So began their days of waiting.
xxxx
Granted, Akira couldn't finish his Sunday without stopping by Toranosuke Yoshida.
"Is listening to this guy talk really that interesting...?" asked Morgana from within his bag.
"You don't understand...but some day, you will," whispered Akira with a knowing grin.
"...if you say so..."
xxxx
Day: May 22nd, 2016
Spent all day at a museum. Lots of the art pieces were kind of trippy.
The curator was kind of jerk. And that's me being polite.
Also, I stood up for the ex-convict politician, and helped him gain a confidence boost! The crowd seemed quite swayed by his charisma.
(And no, I'm not being facetious.)
xxxx
/Monday: May 23, 2015/
Akira wasn't sure why that today, of all days, the gossip managed to get to him.
Maybe he had been more tired from the Palace than he had thought, and consequently goofed up on Ms. Chouno's question about what the root words of 'synesthesia' meant.
(In all fairness, saying that the roots 'syn' and 'aisthesis' meant "the thesis of Artificial Intelligence about Sin" was a wild attempt at wordplay for a blank-minded shot in the dark.)
(Even if Chouno-sensei thought your wrong answer was clever, the other students still jeered at you about it.)
Maybe he was just utterly fed up with the sheer petty drama of it all. The impulse to yell at all of the kids to just grow up and stop being gossipy nags was...stronger than expected.
(After making a difference outside of the school...after living a life according to your own decisions as an adult...being stuck in this artifice is rather bothersome to you...)
As such, in a fit of desperation, he looked into something that he had not bothered with the last time around: extracurricular clubs.
(Granted, he doubted any club would actually let him in, but if he didn't do something to at least make school a bit more tolerable, he was going to go crazy!)
Then, out of utter surprise, one club stuck out to him, and the inspiration was too strong to ignore. (Was this what Yusuke felt like when his muse took hold?)
As such, Akira quietly headed for the rooftop, where one Haru Okumura was busy watering the planters. "Oh!" The floofy-haired girl looked at him with surprise. "Um...is there a reason you're up here?"
Amazing. I'm in a better mood already, just hearing her talk. "I was looking into extracurricular activities, and noticed the existence of one Gardening Club," remarked Akira, quietly letting the door close behind him. He moved towards the opposite corner, giving plenty of space for the third-year student in case she felt threatened by the 'delinquent transfer student'; he set his bookbag down, telling Morgana with a glance to keep cool and quiet. "Being the country bumpkin that I am, there's quite a bit of greenery that the big city is honestly lacking. Sure, I could just go to one of the parks, but that feels like it would be defeating the point. So...could I join, senpai? Or is the club not taking any new members?"
For some reason, the offer to actually join the Gardening Club seemed to elicit shock from the girl. "Oh. Um. This is...unexpected."
Akira made a show of looking around. "Come to think of it, you're the only one I ever see maintaining the planters up here on the roof...do you not have any other club members?"
"...no," she admitted.
Akira arched an eyebrow. "How can a club exist with just one member?"
"Well...I have special permission." For some reason, she seemed rather perturbed to admit that. "I...find doing this sort of work peaceful, and relaxing. And the school was nice enough to accommodate me."
More like the school bent over backwards to accommodate the scion of the Okumura Foods conglomerate that donates a hefty chunk to Shujin's coffers, Akira thought but didn't say. "...so, is that a no?"
Haru's eyes turned downcast. "...well..."
Akira felt privately disappointed, but he couldn't really blame her. "That's fine. I don't want to be a bother." Rising up, he made to leave-
"Wait." Sighing, Haru put down her trowel, rising to her feet as she brushed dirt off of the legs of her tracksuit. "There's a lot of plants to tend to beyond just these," she said, gesturing towards the planters. "And it is a lot of hard work..."
"So why do it alone?"
"...I enjoy the peace it gives me," she said in a rather cryptic manner.
(You know all too well what — or rather, who — she's seeking peace from.)
"...well, I may be a rotten delinquent according to most of the school, but I like to fashion myself as a bit of a peacemaker. So if it's peace you're after, I think I can manage."
Haru smiled sweetly. "I...honestly don't understand your reputation: you've always been rather considerate the last times we met..." Tapping her fist into her palm, the third-year made a resolution. "If you join, I'll be your senpai chaperone! That way, if anyone asks, I'll tell them you've been on your best behavior! And even if it's not much, it'll hopefully make your reputation less...outlandish."
Akira couldn't help but snort with a smile. "At this juncture, I'll take what I can get. I appreciate the offer." Lightly bowing, he said, "So to properly introduce myself, I'm Akira Kurusu: second-year, and somehow responsible for more problems at this school than is humanly possible...according to the student body."
His senpai bowed in return. "I'm Haru Okumura." If she faltered slightly when stating her family name, Akira didn't call her out on it. "A third-year, just trying to enjoy life as it comes..."
(And so, your beloved Empress steps onto the stage once more...)
When he offered to share contact info, he was surprised at her hesitancy. "I'm...rather particular about who I give my contact information to," she meekly admitted.
Akira didn't push, having a sneaking suspicion as to why. "Fair enough. I'll just make a note of the times when the Gardening Club officially 'meets', then."
That suited Haru just fine.
xx
As Akira departed the rooftop, Morgana poked his head out of the bookbag. "You sure seemed to hit it off well with her..."
"Why? Is that a problem?" he quietly asked.
"Just be careful not to get distracted from our goals..."
"Like you're one to talk, Mister 'Lady Ann' this and 'Lady Ann' that..."
"Hey!" protested Morgana. "I've been nothing but a gentleman!"
Akira rolled his eyes. "Uh huh. I'm perfectly fine, Morgana."
xxxx
Day: May 23rd, 2016
I joined a school club today. Whether it's a sports club or a culture club...depends on how much manual labor I'd have to do on any given day.
But that's okay! Because this club is headed by the sweetest and most beautiful girl I've ever met!
xx
Akira suddenly looked up from his probation diary, feeling Morgana's judgmental stare. "What?"
"...are you one of those 'simps' Ryuji talks about?" wondered Morgana with narrow eyes.
"..."
xx
And my cat just called me a simp.
I'm going to go to bed now and think about the life choices that have led me to this point.
xxxx
/Tuesday: May 24, 2016/
Akira idly noted Kawakami-sensei's morning announcement about some 'city beautification project' and a 'public cleanup campaign' that the school would be participating in on the 30th. Picking up trash at Inokashira Park? I sure as heck don't remember this. Another variable amidst a sea of change. He idly watched Ryuji and Ann text amongst the group chat — Yusuke was apparently too focused at Kosei to actually look at his phone — and noted a mention of Takuto Maruki. Well...he at least seems on the level. And the sooner Ryuji gets it out of the way, the fewer reasons the school will have to hound us.
Without another thought, he typed in the suggestion for Ryuji to go and visit the counselor — getting a sly thumbs-up from Ann in front of him — before he turned his mind back to Kawakami. That reminds me...when is Operation Maidwatch supposed to happen?
(And would anything change because of the lack of Mishima?)
(You haven't really found a chance to approach him, have you...?)
(They didn't operate in the same social circles, and without the bonding experience that had been 'Kamoshida Threats', Mishima had never had a reason to get near them.)
(You'll get a chance...eventually...maybe.)
And so classes continued.
xxxx
After working at Untouchable — wherein Akira had sold everything gained from Madarame's Palace, learned of Iwai's old yakuza connections with the Hashiba Clan, and met the man's son Kaoru in person — Akira got a surprising call from Yusuke. "What is it?"
"Madarame...sensei has decided that his new piece will be debuting this upcoming Sunday."
May 29th: the first day of the final week of his art exhibition. "That makes sense..."
"He...is pleased with the composition of my work. But he has requested a slightly larger version."
"...are you going to do it?"
"I'm afraid I have no choice, if I am to maintain my position until we make our move." A frustrated sigh escaped the young man. "To copy 'myself'...how humiliating..."
"Is he around?"
"He is currently meeting with his own lawyers over dinner. He has made no secret of how he intends to sue Ohya and his former pupils for defamation once the exhibit is over and done with."
Sounds like we need to make our move...and soon. "...have you put in any thought as to what you want to put on the calling card? After all, you know him best; you'll know more than most what will get under his skin."
"...I have put some thought into it," admitted Yusuke.
Akira couldn't help the grin that came to his face. "Then here's my idea."
In the end, it was an utterly inspired idea. "Strange, how invigorating the idea is...it would be akin to a heist."
"Just focus on what you need to do, and I'll take care of my end."
xxxx
Day: May 24th, 2016
Sold a bunch of crap to a tough-looking gecko. His son seems kind of wormy, though. Maybe they're not related?
I smell a conspiracy.
Also, a kitsune asked for tips on how to be devilishly clever. What are they teaching yokai, these days?
P.S. Had a neat idea. Gonna test it tomorrow.
xxxx
/Wednesday: May 25, 2016/
Akira schooled his face into a collected expression as Makoto Niijima approached. "Miss President."
Makoto stopped in front of him, her eyes briefly glancing at the railway schedule to determine when their connection to Aoyama-itchōme Station would arrive. "We meet again; you have an interesting habit of going to the most curious places."
A leading question; Akira played along. "Do tell."
"I overheard some students say that they saw you go to the rooftop the other day...even though you know it's off limits."
Ah, this. "And?"
"So you admit it?" she asked with some surprise.
"Well, I am in the Gardening Club. And I had a chaperone, so it's all good."
Makoto seemed genuinely dumbfounded. "...what?"
"Ask Okumura-senpai, she'll vouch for me." At that moment, their train arrived. "Anyhow, school waits for no one, Miss President. Au revoir!"
He slipped past a crowd of pedestrians before the befuddled third-year could get close.
xxxx
(And so the days continued on...)
xxxx
Day: May 25th, 2016
Got hounded by a rather nosy lady.
Also hung out with a fortune-teller who was offering rather bad advice to a lady seeking to get out of a bad relationship.
I should remember the guy's name, if only to leak it onto the Internet so a bunch of trolls will hound him into oblivion. (If you know, you know.)
Also thought I saw Shiho hanging out with the redheaded first-year again.
(Why can't I remember the redhead at all?)
P.S. I tested my idea. It worked. Gotta think about it some more.
xxxx
Day: May 26th, 2016
Ended up accompanying my friend Ann to one of her modelling gigs. (I think she wanted me to understand more about why it's not something she should distract her parents over. Nice try, missy; I haven't forgotten!)
And that's where I met a peer of hers by the name of Mika.
I'll be honest, I completely forgot about her.
And after today, I remember why I had forgotten about her. (Memo to myself: check the Nav to see if there's a potential match...)
Then again, it seemed to make her realize that she didn't take modelling so seriously after all...which naturally begged the question of it's so important that her parents not be distracted from their fashions and their model shoots. (Wink wink, nudge nudge.) So...huzzah for Mika-induced epiphanies?
(Even thanking Mika by proxy feels weird.)
xxxx
Day: May 27th, 2016
Helped Okumura-senpai haul a bunch of soil around the school grounds in preparation for summer plants. Exhausting, yet fulfilling.
Some people gave weird looks; I didn't bother with them. What's weird about handling topsoil, anyhow?!
Had to work off some steam...so naturally, I visited Takemi's Clinic.
For some reason, her latest test required me to be exhausted.
And now I feel like shit!
So...I think I'll sleep through class tomorrow.
(Scandalous!)
xxxx
/Saturday: May 28th, 2016/
After sleeping through some of his classes — much to the chagrin of numerous teachers — Akira felt slightly rejuvenated...and for good reason.
Tomorrow would be Madarame's reckoning.
But, first things first: to Crossroads!
He had a lush of a journalist to meet.
xxxx
At Crossroads, Ohya was in a less than pleasant mood. "Tch. It's all the same; all it takes is the mere threat of a lawsuit to make people back down. But that's life for you..." She promptly downed her entire shot glass of whiskey. "HAAAAA!"
Akira calmly sipped from his water. "Tough week, I take it?"
"Editor's been on my ass all. Damn. Week. Doesn't matter that I managed to convince so many people to go on the record, no, he's all worried that somehow my article was based out of malice." Ohya snorted. "I don't even care about art. And who needs to feel malice to take down a scumbag!" Leaning back in her booth, the reporter moaned, "Should have stuck with the stupid clickbait...and the entertainment pieces...why did I think anything changed...?"
"Really?"
Ohya pouted. "No one cares about the truth. If some no-name had done what Madarame's alleged to have done, he'd be in prison. But oh, if it's some big shot, now we gotta be careful!" she moaned, holding up her hands as if undergoing a mock arrest.
Akira calmly let Ohya continue with her angry ranting and drunken murmurings, even as Morgana quietly worried about the woman's liver. Eventually, Akira said, "You haven't used the photos I sent you."
"I have to save those as an ace in the hole. I would have mentioned them by now, but none of the pupils that went on the record were able to provide any kind of detail about some counterfeiting operation. It all seemed like news to them..."
"...well, according to my source, something extraordinary is going to happen tomorrow." Folding his hands in front of his face, Akira remarked, "Tomorrow, Madarame is set to unveil a new painting; he will be passing off the work of his current student as his latest masterpiece. However, it will not be the painting that Madarame expects." With a grand air of mystery, he added, "My source has all but confirmed that these counterfeits are made for the sake of laundering money, and defrauding individual buyers on the private market, all in a way that would keep him from becoming implicated...even if your article only keeps it in the realm of allegation, it will be corroborated by what is unveiled tomorrow. If you time the publishing of your article so that it occurs after the unveiling of that painting...then that will give you some cover."
Ohya eyed him with suspicion. "Is that a fact?"
"I'd wager that you probably have the framework of an article already constructed to make use of those photos; you've only been waiting for some meat to put on those bones. By this time tomorrow, you'll have enough meat to choke a cat."
"Hey!" protested Morgana.
"Or a dog. Either-or," corrected Akira.
Ohya, eyeing his cat, snorted with amusement. "Smart little fella, isn't he?"
Akira smiled. "You have no idea."
"...if I don't find this 'mystery painting' to be of any value, I'm not going to publish anything."
"I will leave it to your discretion, then. Even if you hadn't published anything at all, Madarame's days on top of the art world would have been numbered."
Ohya looked at him as though he were a mystery that needed to be unravelled. "...who the heck are you, kid?"
"Just...a concerned citizen," he cryptically answered before making his exit.
xxxx
On the train home, Akira — sitting in a spot that kept any onlookers from viewing his screen — quietly reached out to Yusuke.
Akira: Status report on the project?
Yusuke: The calling card is finished.
Yusuke shot Akira a brief photo of his new work.
"It looks way better than Ryuji's," remarked Morgana, peering out from underneath the zipper of his bookbag.
Akira: Nice.
Yusuke: Ryuji's design was rather avant-garde and passionate in its own, amateurish way.
Yusuke: But I believed that we would need a bit of flair to truly strike fear into Madarame's heart.
Akira: you call that a "bit" of flair?
Yusuke: Forgive the liberties I took with the design.
Akira: No worries.
Akira: It'll all come to a head tomorrow.
Akira: Sleep well.
Yusuke: I am indebted to you and the others
Yusuke: No matter how this ends
Yusuke: you have my gratitude
Akira couldn't help but smile at his old friend's sincerity. It's a debt already paid...many times over...
xxxx
Day: May 28th, 2016
According to Ann, I somehow slept through an Ushimaru-caliber chalk missile striking my head. Clearly, my hair is its own helmet!
The night was relatively boring, all things considered. Even the ramblings of drunk people can only go so far!
Tomorrow is another day.
xxxx
That night, Akira quietly dreamt of a familiar scene: himself and Haru, tending to a garden...except now, his mind defaulted to two young teenagers, contentedly working on some planters on the concrete rooftop of a Tokyo school.
Before, he would have defaulted to a man and woman, married for many years, sharing their time and energy on an activity that brought them joy for its own sake...and also because it was done together.
Whether this change rendered his dream as 'good' or 'bad'...well, perhaps that's a mere matter of perspective.
xxxx
/Sunday: May 29th, 2016/
The museum was quite hectic, on that Sunday...and it would only become moreso.
(The tale of this event, at least from the perspective of others, would only become known to Joker after the fact...)
Akira: You know what to do when you get the signal?
ALIBABA: Yes.
ALIBABA: But I am unsure as to what your signal will be.
Akira: You'll know.
ALIBABA: Pardon?
Akira: Trust me.
With maximum guts, Akira quietly flipped a hood over his head, and tightened a facemask over his mouth, shrouding his features from view. "Okay..." He held out a ballpoint pen. "Get in position, Mona."
"Right, Joker," whispered the cat as he darted down the alleyway, pen in mouth.
xx
Ryuji Sakamoto and Ann Takamaki were among the crowds, waiting to enter once the museum opened.
(A certain person was present as well...to bear witness. To what? Only he could say.)
xx
Ichiko Ohya, sitting at her work computer inside a cramped studio apartment, watched the news livestream of the event with slight exasperation. This whole thing is a waste of time...
(Yet she still found herself watching.)
xx
In another part of Tokyo, Futaba Sakura was also watching said livestream...as well as the museum's internal security cameras that she had hacked into. A shame that the server company they contracted to store their security footage has such crappy encryption...but lucky for me!
"Mwe heh heh," she giggled out loud, just because she could. Now...what exactly are you going to do, Phantom Thieves...?
xx
Ichiryusai Madarame — wanting no interlopers — had his student escorted by private security, directly from his shack.
(There would be none who would dare to ruin this moment! Once the spotlight shined brightly upon him — as it should! — he would turn his attention to the wretched gnats that had dared to oppose him.)
xx
Yusuke Kitagawa quietly moved through the back alley at the rear of the museum, escorted by two burly men in black suits. The other two were carrying his framed painting, covered from outside view by plastic sheeting and cardboard.
What a garish setup, mused the artist, keeping his thoughts hidden from his face. The presence of such...brutish individuals was utterly lacking in artistic sensibilities!
(Focusing on that, more than anything else, distracted him from the unnerving conspiracy that he was a part of: to pull the proverbial rug out from under his deluded master's feet.)
xx
Morgana waited quietly behind a dumpster, acting for all the world like a feral alleycat. (Not that he was a cat...but he could play the part well. That was all!)
With narrow eyes, the Most Definitely Not a Cat™ watched as museum staff opened the back door to let Yusuke and the four suited men inside. Wait for it...
The staff member turned away, letting the door close behind him...
Now!
...only for Morgana to jam it open with the pen, right in the gap between the frame and the door. Yes!
The cat glanced back; less than twenty seconds later, a figure in sweats and a hoodie scampered down the alley, slowly prying open the door and pocketing the pen. "Is the coast clear?"
Morgana peered inside, looking down the hall. "We're clear."
With those words, Akira and Morgana snuck inside.
xx
Yusuke tried not to cringe as Madarame appraised his work. "A fine use of contrasts...and an excellently chosen frame for display." Madarame leaned back with a pleased expression. "You've learned well, Yusuke."
"Thank you, sensei," Yusuke replied with a slight bow. (How had he once stomached this? Pretending at obsequiousness...oh, how it threatened to make him nauseous...!) "Do you have a place picked out to display the work? I would like to preview it, just to ensure the aesthetics match my mental vision."
"Your mental vision, hm?" remarked Madarame with an arched eyebrow, as one amused. "I suppose this will give you practice for the future. Come, this way."
"Your generosity is truly without measure, sensei," said Yusuke, following Madarame out of the small storage room where his painting was kept, now hidden under an opaque sheet.
(He noted that two of Madarame's guards were left to guard the door into the storage room. I hope you are capable of pulling this off, Joker...)
xx
Fifteen seconds after Yusuke and Madarame departed, one of the guards looked down the hall towards the deepest backrooms of the museum; someone was approaching their position. "Hey, who are you?"
A masked male, in gray sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt, calmly walked towards them; in his hand was a smartphone.
The second guard went tense, pulling out a small baton. "You're not allowed back here-"
"Beginning navigation," chirped an electronic voice.
Both guards boggled as the world around them fell away, the humdrum halls of the museum's backrooms giving way to a fantastical realm, clad in gold. "What the-?!"
The nondescript figure himself had given way to a masked man in black; at his side was a red faerie with translucent butterfly wings. "Hua Po," the man said with authority, snapping his fingers.
The spritely creature giggled. "Dormina."
The two guards were utterly helpless as unconsciousness took them.
xx
...am I dreaming? Futaba had to be.
The CCTV footage she was watching showed Akira approaching the two guards (like a madman!)...only for an odd bit of visual distortion to occur, during which the three men faded from sight. Mere moments later, they returned into view; the two thugs in suits were unconscious, and Akira was standing over them like a boss (if she could privately admit it).
How did he do that?! (Did the Phantom Thieves actually have supernatural powers...?)
The hooded figure in the footage looked at the camera, aiming finger guns at it.
Oh. Right. Smarmy little jerk. Futaba quickly got to work, endeavoring to loop and repeat the footage of the two guards standing at attention, splicing it over the sections showing Akira so that no one looking at it later would be able to tell what had happened. She would have to settle for glitches and other visual artifacts to mask the point where the guards vanished from the recorded footage; a faked DDoS attack — to briefly interrupt the server company's network connection to the museum, and nothing more — would suffice to justify the existence of corrupted footage...except she would have to do the same for the other museum's cameras at the same time in order to reduce anyone's suspicions of foul play...
Urgh, when did I agree to play the role of script kiddie?! It rankled at her (semi)professional pride!
(Even so, her sheer fascination with the strange boy living in Sojiro's house kept propelling her forward.)
(If he's capable of this much...maybe he really can help you...?)
xx
Akira sighed. Okay, onto the next part. "Let me know if anyone comes close."
"On it!" exclaimed Morgana, slithering away to peer around the corner for any strangers.
Akira quickly dragged both unconscious guards into the storage room, pressing them into gaps between shelves. Good thing...I've taken to working out...in my room...! Pausing to catch his breath, his eyes turned towards the target: a framed painting — resting on an easel — hidden by a small sheet. Underneath it was Yusuke's painting of Akira the nude model, albeit a slightly bigger copy that the artist had made over the past week. Man, even I can tell his brush strokes have less heart in them compared to the smaller original.
Still...he had a job to do.
xx
The museum would be opening soon, and Madarame was hyping up the museum's curator about the upcoming debut. Yusuke, having made some motions of analyzing the wall — 'ensuring the proper spacing and positioning of the frame hooks', he had claimed — excused himself to go and obtain the painting.
When he approached the storage room, he noticed Morgana on watch; the two guards were nowhere to be seen. When he opened the door, Akira handed him the frame, still covered by the sheet. Near the walls, he could hear the snoring of two men. "Do I want to know how you disposed of the guards?"
"No time, just take the calling card. Remember not to let anyone look under it until it's time!"
"Of course." Trepidation, anxiety, and budding excitement waged a fierce war in Yusuke's heart as he carried the covered frame. Behind him, he could hear Akira and Morgana scurrying away towards the back entry from whence they had infiltrated. Soon...soon.
xx
The crowds had gathered, and the news media had their cameras rolling. Stanchions and velvet ropes blocked anyone from getting too close, leaving only Madarame to stand amidst the lights. This is how it should be, he thought to himself, hiding his vain thoughts beneath the veneer of a humble hermit. Look upon at the precipice of the art world, you shallow peons! They would doubtless be mesmerized by this piece: not because of its technical quality or artistic merits — for indeed, Yusuke's skills had only grown finer with age! — but because of the fact it bore Madarame's name. All of those questions about plagiarism and abuse will be washed away, by my word alone!
Thus, he began his grand performance. "As the last week of this exhibit begins, it is my pleasure to debut a new work. Despite various unfounded rumors, and the complexities of life in this day and age...in the end, the simplicity of art is enough to be a balm on our souls. As such...I would like to show you all...The Masks We Wear." What better title, for a painting that showed a weary man surrounded by his own faces? "Yusuke, if you would please."
Yusuke bowed reverently, carefully removing the sheet.
xx
As Akira moved back onto the street away from the museum — hood down, facemask off — Morgana peered out of his bookbag. "So...was it there?"
"It was." He needed to get to the rendezvous point near Madarame's shack. "It all went exactly as planned."
(He had pulled the covering off, not caring in the slightest about the actual painting; he had then flipped the frame over, where a thin sheet of rigid foam board kept Yusuke's painting from slipping out. Prying open the tabs securing it in place, he had removed the foam board filler...and sure enough — just as he and Yusuke had planned mere days earlier, on the 24th — the canvas containing the calling card had been secured with painter's tape to the backing, sandwiched between Yusuke's painting and the foam board. Hiding in plain sight...and now for the switch-a-roo. After securing the calling card in the frame, he had then torn the copied painting to pieces, stuffing the shreds into his pockets. Yusuke would have appreciated the gesture: after all...it wasn't the original painting, which still sat quietly in Madarame's shack.)
Morgana sighed, looking downtrodden. "I wish we could see Madarame's face when he looks at it."
"You'll have a chance; given the setting, it'll probably be all over the Internet within the hour." Now I just need to trust that Futaba and Ohya will do their parts...
(But he had faith in them.)
xx
Ichiko Ohya's eyes widened at what was happening on the livestream. "What the...?"
(Several ideas came to mind as to the ramifications of this event...but all she cared about now was the fact that her newest article had some actual viability.)
(Thus did she quickly edit and fill out the missing gaps in her draft copy; the final version would be electronically published within the hour. Given the dramatic unveiling at the museum, her editor would have no true grounds to deny her.)
xx
Futaba Sakura found herself mildly impressed. You guys are some slick operators, she mused, watching the bedlam break out.
With a lazy half-heartedness, she posted a link to the museum livestream on Phan-Watch, under her 'Wild_Card_Joker' username; an enhanced screencap of the calling card was included in the post, at the proverbial front and center.
Now, back to covering Kurusu's tracks...
xx
As expected, the crowd gasped.
However, Madarame's initial jolt of pleasure was dashed to pieces, for their gasps were ones of confusion and bewilderment, instead of amazement. What is this? As numerous individuals pointed at the painting, Madarame turned — idly noting Yusuke's shocked expression — and froze.
The painting was not of a winged man, surrounded by numerous faces.
Instead, it was a bold and striking image of a masked face in a top hat, with a chilling message underneath.
xx
TAKE YOUR HEART
Sir Ichiryusai Madarame, a Vainglorious Sham, whose talents have deserted him;
You are a barefaced artist who brazenly steals from your pupils, and has proclaimed their works as your own;
You have sullied the foundation of your art through putrid plagiarism, mediocre mimicry, and fatal fraud;
The Sayuri herself stands in judgment of you: Sinful Pretender, False Shogun of the Art World!
Thus, we shall make you confess all of your crimes with your own mouth, and take your distorted desires without fail!
Sincerely,
The Phantom Thieves of Hearts
xx
"...what?" mouthed Madarame, out of utter disbelief. "What is this?! Who did this!?" Looking angrily at Yusuke, he yelled, "What is the meaning of this? What happened to the original?!"
Yusuke's eyes were wide, as if stunned by the fact his painting had been replaced; he did not answer Madarame's questions. (In truth, the boy was simply overwhelmed by the enormity of the moment...not that Madarame knew the truth.)
The questions came from the present media members at a heavy pace, fast and furious: what was this about; did it have anything to do with the Maiasa Newspaper article from last week; did he have any connection with Suguru Kamoshida; why was he being targeted by the Phantom Thieves; why did they reference the stolen Sayuri; on, and on, and on...!
(Deep down, within Madarame's heart, his Shadow snarled. "Wretched lowlifes. Who do they think they are?!")
At this point, Madarame's sole focus turned to damage control.
xx
Yusuke quietly slipped away, making for the restroom to catch his breath. His reaction was...raw. Unfiltered.
The words of the calling card had been his own.
What striking catharsis it was, to see Madarame's reaction...
xx
Ryuji grinned as he quickly tried to make his getaway with Ann. "That was wicked sick."
"And the look of anger on his face after he read it...it was unreal," murmured Ann.
"Let's just meet up with the others. We have to get a move on," said Ryuji pumping himself up for the battle to come.
xx
(Little did the two blonds realize, that they passed a certain person on their way out of the museum: a person they themselves had no knowledge of...)
(...but it was a person that had knowledge of them.)
(Moving away from the bustling crowd, he quietly pulled out his phone and dialed a particular number. "Hello, detective? It's Akechi; are you watching the news?" A brief pause. "Not quite enough for a warrant...perhaps. But enough for probable cause? I certainly think so. If anyone gets on your case, I'll cover for you." He waited for the detective's answer, only to chuckle. "You'd be surprised at the kind of pull I have.")
(Hanging up, Akechi quietly glanced back towards Madarame, whose expression evoked the anger of a bear caught in a steel trap: rage and fury, but to no effect. Any evidence connecting him to Shido will need to be removed; this gives us cover to take care of that quite nicely. After all, there was no telling what sort of things the Phantom Thieves would make him confess.)
xxxx
The idea had come to Akira earlier in the week, whilst discussing the calling card with Yusuke.
The nature of the Metaverse — and of Palaces, in particular — was rather malleable.
Having had quite a lot of time to try and think about how things went the Last Time Around™, Akira had come to realize that the boundaries of Palaces weren't necessarily fixed: Junya Kaneshiro's Palace, despite being fixed to a floating bank, had a territory covering all of Shibuya; Futaba Sakura's, despite being centered on Sojiro's house, had nonetheless included the road right outside of Leblanc; and that wasn't even getting into how Mementos and reality had become one, essentially transforming their whole world (or all of Tokyo, at the bare minimum) into a Palace.
So with that in mind, Akira had had an epiphany: who said that all of Madarame's Palace had to be restricted to the immediate area around his shack? For one who styled himself as the supreme head of Japan's art scene, why wouldn't Madarame's distortions extend to the locations where his art had pride of place?
(May the 24th: as he spoke with Yusuke, he idly asked how often Madarame had these art exhibits. "Fairly often; at least five times a year, all over the country." The artist went silent, for a moment. "He dedicates a lot of his attention to these events...and they've become more common with each passing year...")
The very next day, before travelling to visit Chihaya, Akira had stopped by the museum to test his hypothesis...and lo and behold, despite being miles away from Madarame's shack, he had still entered the man's Palace at the museum. He had definitively proven that his distortions about the shack extended likewise to the museum that hosted his art. Within the Metaverse, it had been an entirely separate wing, split off from the rest of the Palace: a testimony to the museum's isolation from the shack in reality.
Yet that by itself was enough for his purpose: to quickly deal with any security that would have gotten between him and setting up the calling card.
(He would need to remember these tactics for later...)
xxxx
From that point forward, the return to Madarame's Palace went about as Joker remembered.
Once returning to the Treasure Room at the top of the Palace, they stole the Treasure as before: Skull distracting security; Panther turning off the lights; Joker lowering the crane; Mona, attached to the crane, swiping the painting that was Madarame's Treasure.
Also just like before, Madarame's Shadow had discovered the theft, forcing them to evacuate via an entirely different route than previously; once ending back up in a courtyard near the 'halfway point' of their infiltration route, Mona had given into his strange instincts to investigate the Treasure.
(In all fairness, the jokester in Joker thought a henohenomoheji face was a pretty fun thing to swap the real Treasure for.)
Surrounded by Shadows, the Phantom Thieves could only watch as the Palace Ruler approached them with the genuine article. Yet, Fox chose this moment to speak out. "I considered you my foster father...you have no idea how much it has pained me to realize the depths you've sunk to...or the falsehoods your very reputation was built on!" Taking one step forward, the grieving pupil roared, "To think that the Sayuri...wasn't even yours! Was anything of you genuine?!"
"Hmph. I had a feeling that that memory was being witnessed...perhaps I, the magnanimous being that I am, can grant you a gift before you die: a glimpse of the original Sayuri!"
Joker tried not to wince as the painting was unveiled: no longer a woman looking off into a mysterious haze, she was a woman looking down with love and affection upon a young baby...a baby with familiar features, and hair that matched Yusuke Kitagawa's.
In that very instant, Fox realized the truth. "No...Mom..." The utter horror of it all slammed into him, as the last Will Seed's memory gained a grim and abominable context. "You...let her die..."
"A woman who remained passionate for art, even after her husband's death; a woman I took in, knowing of her talent; a woman, weak and frail, who knew her death was coming...and left behind a memento for her only son; a memento whose expression, rendered a mystery by me, became the subject of curiosity and intrigue for every parasitic art critic! And you, who I took in to ensure you remained ignorant of the truth of the Sayuri, turned out to be a bonafide wealth of ideas! Why risk dealing with mouthy adults, when I can just reap the futures of talented brats?" Madarame's Shadow seemed downright pleased. "Like that wretched article from last week; so many ungrateful cretins went on the record to turn against me! Yet who would care if mere children dared to speak out against adults?"
I want to punch him SO badly. Even so, Joker stayed his hand. "So. You've heard his distortions in full, Fox...what now?"
Fox chuckled bitterly, sounding as a man whose last bit of hope had been dashed to pieces. "Is it not obvious?" Turning towards the Shadow, Fox's tone turned glacial. "You have my gratitude, Madarame; all reasons to forgive you have vanished as one's breath on glass; you are not worth the title of 'Sensei', or 'Master', or even 'Artist'! You are naught but a demonic fiend, and a mere counterfeit of an artist!"
Naturally, Madarame's Shadow was less than pleased by that...and thus, transforming into a floating paintings bearing his eyes, nose, and mouth, Azazel Madarame served as their final conflict.
The tactics and strategies used against the monstrous Shadow were as Akira remembered, for the most part...until, when the paintings dissolved, Madarame's Shadow summoned four elemental clones.
"Wha-!? He made copies of himself!?" exclaimed Mona.
I sure don't remember this, thought Joker with a frown.
Fortunately, applications of the Baton Pass allowed them to capitalize on their elemental weaknesses in quick succession; and what a reflection they were of Madarame himself, for the copies soon began to show defects of their own. How appropriate. "For the plagiarist to be undone by the weakness of his own defective skills: what a commentary!" exclaimed Joker, as Shiki-Ouji unleashed a round of Double Shots that critically wounded the ersatz copies. "Now, Fox!"
"And so...the curtain falls..." With a swing of the blade and a rush of ice, Madarame's Shadow was knocked off of his feet by his last and greatest student. "...on the career of Madarame the Master."
The Shadow, brought low, began to beg; to wail with despair about how true art was not loved, how the art world was merciless to those without money; and yet, Yusuke did not care, standing up for the truth of Art, in and of itself.
(And why would he? Akira had witnessed Yusuke's rise to artistic fame in his Last Life™; even if he had been afforded many accolades, he had not let himself become corrupted by greed and vanity.)
(And he had quite a few people to thank for that, you know?)
"Return to yourself in reality and confess your crimes," Fox snarled, taking a gentle hold of the Treasure: the true Sayuri. "All of them! Swear it!"
And then...Madarame's Shadow let slip a certain statement. "You're not going to the summon the One in the Black Mask...? Will you tell him not to kill me?"
"...a Black Mask?" repeated Panther.
Oh. Right. This IS where we first learned about Akechi's existence...not that we knew it was Akechi at the time. (An opportunity for later!)
Suddenly, the Palace began to quake. "It's time for us to get out of here!" exclaimed Mona, transforming into his vehicular form.
Thus did the Phantom Thieves flee the collapsing Museum of Vanity.
xxxx
(Little did Akira know, but in reality, Ichiryusai Madarame had returned to his shack.)
(The whole debacle with the debut had been a disaster! And how had Yusuke's painting been switched out with the calling card?! "That cheapskate museum said nothing was amiss on the security footage...what tripe!" he snarled, trying to get his affairs in order before reaching out to his legal counsel. "I was too patient; too merciful! I'll bring the hammer down on all of them!")
(And, as if things hadn't been bad enough, that wretched newspaper had published yet another article, this time alleging foul play with the Sayuri! The article had even included photographic evidence! "I'll accuse their photographer of doctoring those photos...they'll get what they deserve. They'll all get it...!")
(Why was his chest hurting? Why was his mind on fire...?)
(Then...there was a knock on the door.)
(To Madarame's utter dismay, a man in plain clothes stood there, flanked by a trio of police officers. "Who are you?")
(The man — projecting a rather lackadaisical air, with a ratty ponytail and some stubble on his chin — said, "I've gone by quite a few names in my time, for one reason or another...but you can call me Inspector Yamadera, a detective with the city's investigative unit. Given the incident with the museum and the article that just got published...well, I figured it would be best to drop by and ask a few questions about that cold case. After all, you had previously maintained to the police that the Sayuri had been stolen, right...?")
(For some reason, he could no longer recognize the pain in his chest and mind; all thoughts of defending himself and mounting legal challenges began to crumble. "I...will gladly answer your questions, detective.")
(Before long, Madarame voluntarily showed them his secret room, undoing the new lock he had placed on it. At the sight of all the various copies, the detective asked if Madarame would like to come down to the station for a more thorough conversation.)
(The thought of saying 'no' was anathema.)
xxxx
"The destination has been deleted," chirped Akria's phone. The four teenagers (plus one cat) were back in a familiar alleyway; in Yusuke's hands was a simple painting on a rectangular canvas board, bearing the image of the Sayuri in its original form.
"...so this was the root of Madarame's distorted desires," murmured Yusuke, sober and contemplative.
"We should leave at once," said Morgana. "No need for us to hang around near Madarame's home..."
"...the eff are the cops doing there?" exclaimed Ryuji, poking his head around the corner of the alley.
Akira blinked. Cops?
Sure enough, two police cars and a convertible car of some foreign make were parked in front of Madarame's shack, which naturally drew attention from nearby neighbors. Given all of the other news involving Madarame, why wouldn't they be curious?
"This is crazy," said Ann. "Did the calling card make that much of an impact?"
"We need to hide the Treasure; who knows what people will think if they see us carrying a Sayuri around in broad daylight!" exclaimed Morgana.
Akira took off his hoodie, now standing in gray sweats and a black tee shirt. "Wrap this around the painting," he said, handing it to Yusuke. "Let's split."
As the Phantom Thieves made their escape, Akira couldn't help but look behind at the shack; to his surprise, Madarame himself was voluntarily entering the back of a police car. What the...?
The one man who wasn't in a police uniform — a man with rather disheveled bangs, a short-sleeved dress shirt with one too many wrinkles, and a red tie that could stand to have a better knot — was looking at the shack with a rather distant expression...until he turned around, looking at Akira.
He made eye contact...and then the man waved.
Yup, time to bolt, thought Akira as he scurried along after the others...
xxxx
/Meanwhile, back in the present timeline.../
Ren Amamiya suddenly sat up with alarm. "Inspector Yamadera..."
"Yamadera?" repeated Ryuji Sakamoto.
"A detective I remember running into a few times. First time I saw him was outside of Madarame's home." But that wasn't the important thing; only the benefit of hindsight, as well as the insights provided by Yu Narukami, detailed exactly who Yamadera had truly been. "But more importantly...he's better known by the name of Ryoji Kaji." Misato Katsuragi's nostrils flared. "I figured you'd be interested in that."
"And you just now remembered this?"
"Yamadera — or rather, Kaji — didn't appear that much from my perspective. But it does add context for me, because Yamadera was primarily an associate of Goro Akechi in the eyes of our group." Akechi...were you aware back then, of the true nature of the world...?
(If so, it only made his future actions more inexplicable.)
(But you'll get to that part of the story eventually...)
xxxx
TO BE CONTINUED
xxxx
Author's Note:The changes relative to P5 Royal's timeline keep piling up.
And this sidestory has already gone over and beyond "Reach Out For the Truth" in terms of length, and we're not even halfway done. XD