Shin Persona Evangelion

by Ultra Sonic 007

Shinji Ikari stared, bewildered by the bizarre-looking man, who gave an intrigued smile. "An interesting guest has arrived. My name is Igor. Welcome to the Velvet Room, young fool...we have important matters to discuss, you and I." (A fusion of the realms of Evangelion and Persona, where not all is as it seems.) (Cover art by Renu of the Sufficient Velocity forums.)

133. SIDESTORY - The Tale of Kurusu: Part 5

"Sae Niijima, you said?"

Ren Amamiya blinked, pulling out of his recollection to stare at Ryuji Sakamoto. "...yes?"

"And you said her sister was the Student Council President?" chimed Misato Katsuragi.

"...yes?" I didn't mention her name, did I?

Misato frowned. "...was her name Makoto Niijima?"

...I guess speaking about Sae Niijima's sister wasn't vague enough. He could vaguely recall that Makoto was apparently an Anti-Terror Agent, this time around...but he hadn't had the occasion to encounter her in person, in this current timeline. "...maybe."

"So that's a yes," grunted Ryuji. "Why are you being so cagey about the identities of some of your comrades?"

"...because they don't remember any of what happened. No point in bringing attention to them that won't accomplish anything." Not now, at any rate. Besides, one could hardly blame a fellow for being paranoid about drawing the Usurper's attention towards them. "Anyhow...there was a decision to be made, about who to target next..."

xxxx

Why are we here?

To remember that triumphs...cannot be had without trials...

xxxx

The next few days came and went...

xxxx

Day: June 14th, 2016

Miss Student Council President had a rather intense encounter with her sister at school. To say it's an awkward family situation is putting it mildly.

I gave her some advice on how to handle things. Whether anything comes of it is...unknown.

Still wondering the best way to become friends with the Boss's daughter.

Decided to clear my head by visiting a certain fortune-teller in Shinjuku. Unintentionally convinced a client of hers to carry the standard of 'Girl Power', thus changing her fate. (Somehow.)

Said fortune-teller was flummoxed. Flabbergasted. And, quite possibly, bamboozled.

(I also saw a magazine advertising a certain shogi player that's my age; I wonder if I can catch one of her matches when it comes on next.)

(I wonder if I can find an excuse to go to the church she's at, Akira thought but didn't write.)

xxxx

Day: June 15th, 2016

A certain fox wanted my opinion about a certain burrow. I was all too happy to oblige. (Yusuke wanted to try and get a different perspective about the Metaverse without the threat of combat, necessitating a trip to Mementos, Akira didn't write.)

But it did make me think about the nature of the human heart...about desires...such a complex and convoluted web, whose ends we may never know...

Eh, I'm going on a tangent.

Anyhow...I've been rather popular lately, for some reason. (My name has been showing up as a target request on the Phan-Watch website a lot more as of late, mused Akira, his name outpacing even that of Makoto Niijima and Principal Kobayakawa. I mean, students have been putting my name up for a while...but why the sudden spike...?)

I think my friends may be up for another game, soon. (We need to improve our strength and coordination in the Metaverse, Akira didn't write. But where? And with who...?)

xxxx

Day: June 16th, 2016

Was introduced to a ramen shop in Ogikubo by my buddy the fake Blond. Pretty good stuff.

Ramen's also pretty good for getting a vent session going. The little break he's been on has given him a chance to think about his old life with the track team, and how they're getting along.

Hopefully, he finds a way to keep his chin up.

xx

"Excuse me," grumbled a familiar voice.

Akira looked over his shoulder from the probation journal, staring at Kawakami-sensei...well, Becky, to be more accurate. "Yes?"

"For someone who went out of his way to hire a maid, you sure aren't doing any of the typical stuff," said the older woman, her hands clenched onto a broom.

"...and by typical stuff, you mean what? Ogling? Being a creep?" asked Akira with an arched eyebrow.

Becky narrowed her eyes. "...I'm not going to answer that."

"I mean, if cleaning is that tiresome, you might as well take a nap," said Akira, flippantly pointing over at his bed.

Becky forced a sickly sweet smile on her face, her lip twitching from irritation. "Ah, what a kind Master I have~" Alas, before long, the woman was slumped over on the mattress.

Morgana, watching from an empty spot on the desk, turned towards Akira. "And...how exactly is this going to help the Phantom Thieves...?"

"If I can convince my homeroom teacher to turn a blind eye to some things, it'll help keep the heat off of us if need be," whispered Akira. "Especially now that we've had that prosecutor and detective visit our school..."

"...fair enough," admitted Morgana, idly stretching.

Alas, not everyone was of the same opinion.

ALIBABA: Why are you wasting time
ALIBABA: Hiring your teacher as a maid?
Akira: she seems like she's going through a rough patch
Akira: 5,000 yen is a small price to pay to get on her good side
ALIBABA: And yet you're not focusing on...my request
Akira: I'm waiting for my comrades to let me know when they're ready to make a second attempt
Akira: We may need to level up with a different target in the meantime
ALIBABA: :|
ALIBABA: This is very displeasing. I demand tribute as compensation.

"Morgana, you're up again," whispered Akira, pointing towards the window.

The tuxedo cat stared flatly at him. "Again? This is the third night this week..." Alas, Morgana slunk away, slipping out the slight gap in the window to meander along various ledges outside. It would be a short yet slow trek, yet Morgana was agile enough to safely make it over to Sojiro's house.

Akira: Tribute is en route.
ALIBABA: Very well.
ALIBABA: I...
ALIBABA: Will try to be patient.
Akira: Thank you.

As Kawakami's light snoozes sounded out, Akira returned to his journal.

xx

Anyhow, a gal named Becky turned out to be a big sleepyhead, and an Egyptian once more demanded cuddles from my cat.

Life as a high school student is quite the adventure...

xxxx

/Friday: June 17, 2016/

During lunch period, Akira received a message on his phone. He recognized the number before reading the texts.

Makoto: To Whomever this is
Makoto: I was given this number in regards to the Phantom Thieves.
Makoto: What do you know about them?

How very subtle, thought Akira with a smile. Well, I have a shift tonight at Untouchable, so I might as well leverage my resources. (The last thing they needed was for Makoto to undergo a repeat of her impromptu abduction by Kaneshiro's goons...because even a slight change would be enough to render the situation untenable.) He shifted to a fake name, if only to ensure he didn't actually speak in ways that would out him to Makoto...at least, not yet.

Ren: You're not very subtle.
Ren: Am I speaking to a fellow Phan?

xxxx

/Meanwhile, back in the present timeline/

Misato Katsuragi loudly arched an eyebrow.

"Yes, I used my current name again. Can I continue?" groused Ren Amamiya.

xxxx

/Back to the prior timeline.../

Makoto: In a manner of speaking.
Ren: You can call me Ren.
Makoto: 'Rain'...
Ren: Why reach out to me?
Makoto: I was informed that you would help me with regards to the Phantom Thieves.
Makoto: I...have a target in mind, but I don't know how to ask about it.
Ren: Lacking information, hmm?
Ren: Sounds like you need some pointers in investigating.
Ren: Are you a student? An adult?
Makoto: ...a student.
Ren: Then head to Shibuya after school. There's a certain airsoft shop right off of Central Street.
Ren: We'll meet there. Make sure you're not in a school uniform.
Makoto: How will I know who you are?
Ren: You'll know.

Akira stuck the phone into his desk, where Morgana read it swiftly. "...Joker, is this the same Makoto who's been following us...?"

"I'd rather win her over than have her keep tracking us. Besides, it's not going to be a recruitment pitch...not exactly..."

xxxx

After school, Akira bought a rather cheap yet effective outfit — fit for summer weather — from a recycle shop, changing into it at a public restroom before heading over to Untouchable. Morgana waited in his bookbag, serving as another set of ears for whatever would happen.

"Got some new shipments in; sort 'em and tag 'em," groused Iwai as he calmly read through a product catalog.

As Akira dutifully went about sorting through a box of merchandise — frames, accessories, and airsoft pellets — he waited for gaps between customers to talk with Iwai about local events; one particular topic of conversation was about the number of students seen around Shibuya lately. "They all seem kind of...stressed."

"Probably exams," grumbled Iwai.

"Exams aren't for another month for most schools," observed Akira. "And it ain't the kind of stress related with exams: trust me, I'm an expert."

"...suppose you would be," murmured Iwai. "Not exactly the kind of business kids should be poking around in, either..."

"Like what?"

Iwai grunted. "Phishing scams, 'get rich quick' schemes: the usual crap that relies on idiots. And the kind of folks who would break the rules to go after kids...well, I'll leave it up to your imagination..."

Conversations occurred in that scattershot way for the better part of an hour, until a certain Makoto Niijima showed up; to her credit, she had showed up outside of her school uniform, wearing a white blouse, a classy belt, and black leggings. Her eyes, predictably, immediately narrowed at the sight of Akira.

"How can I help you?" said Iwai, taking in Makoto's appearance with a casual glance.

"I would just like to speak with your employee. Ren, I believe his name is?" she said in a very curt manner.

Iwai arched an eyebrow. "Never heard of the guy. You know him, Kurusu?"

"Sure isn't my name. Could be anyone," he cryptically said, not giving anything away.

Makoto sputtered, looking at him with disbelief. "But, I was told...you said...!"

"...and this is why investigating is something that needs to be done with subtlety," remarked Akira, shaking his head goodnaturedly. Glancing at Iwai, he said, "She's been looking into the phishing scams targeting some students at our school." At Makoto's visible surprise, he added, "I can listen to the rumor mill too, you know? Our peers aren't subtle." (Technically true.)

"And why the hell would a young girl be looking into something beyond her pay grade?" Iwai's eyes took on a certain shrewdness, appraising Makoto more fully. "You've got the look of a cop on ya; an honest one. Those are always the ones who don't last long."

Makoto, visibly flummoxed by the turn of events, forced herself to look around at the merchandise; it gave her something to do while she gathered her thoughts. "You...sound like you know a lot, sir."

"I hear things in my little corner of Shibuya," her cryptically said, turning towards Akira to mouth a question. 'She a narc?'

'Not interested in you,' he mouthed back, which was more than enough for the ex-yakuza; if she was looking into criminal activity beyond Iwai's sphere, well...that wasn't really his business. (Beyond being a concerned parent, that is.)

"...I've heard that a certain mafia boss is targeting lots of innocent people in Shibuya. And...I'm trying to find out about him," admitted Makoto, trying her best not to be sheepish.

"That's not exactly specific...and if you want my advice, kid, lay off. The hangure aren't the type of criminals you'd want to look into." With a severe expression, he added, "They don't have a code like the yakuza clans: they'll screw you over without remorse."

(Hangure: the term for criminals occupying a sort of gray zone between civilians and yakuza, lacking the traditional structure and tattoos that would have made them liable to anti-yakuza laws...and, arguably, all the more dangerous because of it.) "Unfortunately, she doesn't seem the type to take 'no' for an answer..." said Akira with a shrug.

Makoto glared hotly at him, before turning back to Iwai. "Please...I'm just trying to find out information I can use to help the students at my school. Nothing more."

"And they can accomplish that by staying away from Shibuya after dark...much like you, little missy." Iwai folded up his catalogue, idly pulling out his lollipop to look at it. "The most notorious ones were driven out of Shinjuku during the big clean-up operation some years back...but they just moved their tentacles elsewhere. Not the kind of scum kids need to be tangling with." Sighing, Iwai stood up. "Kurusu, you're done for the day. Mind escorting the little lady to the train station?"

"Can do, Boss-man," said Akira, heading towards the door.

Makoto, conflicted and bewildered by the sudden change of events, tried to stand her ground. "But I'm not-!"

"You buying anything?" interrupted Iwai. "No? Then leave, kiddo."

Akira, slinging his bookbag over his shoulder, held open the door with an expectant look.

Looking frustrated, Makoto eventually acquiesced, stepping outside of Untouchable. After Akira let the door close behind him, she turned around with a stern yet cold expression. "You chose an awfully roundabout way to humiliate me, Ren."

"If you think that was humiliating, then you've lead a rather comfortable life, Niijima-senpai...in my opinion, of course." Stuffing his heads into his pockets, he said, "Anyhow...let's head to the station. We've got one more stop to make tonight."

Makoto blinked, her anger ever so slightly leaking out. "...one more stop? For what?"

As Akira texted a certain lush of a reporter, he replied, "For the information you've been looking for, of course." So, Kaneshiro's gang might have been one of the ones driven out of Shinjuku, huh...?

(Why was the notion of gangs associated with Shinjuku ringing a bell...?)

xxxx

As Akira and Makoto sat on the Yamanote line, the latter kept giving the former an irritated glare; one that Akira did his utmost to ignore. Not exactly a place where we can talk, anyhow...

(But this would help get Makoto on the level in a way that didn't require her to get abducted. It was...preferable.)

(And yet it does nothing to undo the "Manipulator" accusations, you know...)

The words of Futaba's Shadow niggled at his conscience. I can't help the fact that I'm going back through a life once lived. I'm only doing what I believe to be right.

Once they got off of the train, Makoto finally spoke up once they were away from the thickest of the crowds. "Why go through the trouble of giving me your number under roundabout pretenses, Ren?"

"Because Okumura-senpai doesn't suspect I'm a Phantom Thief like you do. A 'fan' is one thing; being directly associated with them is another." Looking back over his shoulder, he spoke without pretense. "I mean, given how much you've talked about the incidents with Kamoshida and Madarame...and given all the times I've caught you trailing me and my friends, I think it's safe to conclude that's what you think."

Makoto frowned, her eyes narrowing in an expression that could be called hawkish. "So is that an admission on your part? Are you...one of them?"

"There's a certain place we need to visit," explained Akira without answering, calmly moving at a pace he knew she could follow. The lights, glitz, and glam of Shinjuku had a different character to it than Shibuya did; so much so, that Makoto subconsciously edged closer behind Akira to keep from getting separated. Ignoring the hawkers and hosts, Akira made a beeline for Crossroads.

"A...bar?" Makoto looked at him with disbelief. "Was the rumor of you being a secret alcoholic actually true...?"

Akira stared at Makoto with disbelief. "...that's the crazy rumor from school you decided to buy into? First of all, if I wanted to get a drink, I wouldn't have to come to Shinjuku to get one. Secondly, just follow my lead."

Entering the bar, Lala was already serving a few patrons; however, the bartender's expression turned sour at the presence of Makoto. "You're quite the hustler, young man."

"I'm here to talk with Ohya. She's...a concerned citizen, so to speak...and here as a witness." Pulling out some paper notes, he slid them across the counter. "A simple soda for me. Niijima-san?"

His senpai blinked, caught looking around the purple ambience of Crossroads. "Oh. Uh, I'll just have iced water."

As Lala quickly provided their two beverages, the cry of Ohya echoed from the back. "Hey, it's my favorite source! Yoohoo~!"

"This way," said Akira, handing Makoto her water before heading towards the tables in the back. Ohya was sitting there, holding a glass of whiskey. "So, that article of yours seemed to hit the big time. Congratulations."

"You know it," said Ohya, her face flush with both joy and inebriation. "I've been on Cloud Friggin' Nine; I even managed to get some extra time from my Editor before I have to write my next piece!" Her eyes slid over to Makoto. "So, brought your girlfriend~?"

"She is a girl who is not a friend, to be fair. But she is someone who is interested in something you might be able to help with." As Akira sat down between Ohya and Makoto in the booth, he added, "This is my senpai, Makoto Niijima. Niijima-san, this is Ichiko Ohya, a journalist."

Makoto nodded respectfully. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ohya-san. I've read your recent articles on Madarame; they were quite informative."

"Glad to hear kids like my work." Surprisingly, a glimmer of recognition entered Ohya's eyes. "Niijima...any relation to the same woman who works at the public prosecutors' office?"

Makoto and Akira blinked with surprise. "How'd you know?" asked Makoto.

"There's some court cases I've read up on for research purposes, and she's been on quite a few of them. For such a young woman in that profession, she's hit the ground running...plus, I've seen pictures of her, and your faces are practically identical." Ohya took a swig of her whiskey. "Hoo...seriously, what kind of genetics combined to get eyes as red as yours...?"

("What does that have to do with anything?" wondered Morgana from within Akira's bookbag.)

"Anywho, you said you wanted to talk business, Kurusu? Then you know the deal: you scratch my back, I scratch yours." Ohya leaned forward, focusing entirely on Akira. "My next assignment is on the Phantom Thieves of Hearts: given all of the notoriety with their calling cards to Madarame and Kamoshida, it's only natural, you know? Plus, given that you were wearing Shujin Academy's uniform the first time I met you...and given all of the other info you've pushed my way, I wouldn't be surprised if you have some insider info."

"Insider info like what?" asked Akira.

"Well...how about an exclusive interview with someone who suffered from Kamoshida's abuse? Not exactly pleasant stuff, but it would certainly go a long way towards detailing how the school was able to keep a cover on his predations for so long..." Ohya swirled a finger around the rim of her glass. "Seems fair enough, you know? It's not like I'd be able to get access without an introduction..."

Before Akira could say anything, Makoto interrupted. "I...might be able to provide you some information."

Ohya shifted her gaze towards Niijima. "...you sure don't come across as an abuse victim. Too confident."

Why would that mean anything? wondered Akira.

"Not of Kamoshida, no...but as the President of the Student Council, I do have access to certain information that even Kurusu-san wouldn't. And I have direct knowledge of the school administration's attempts at trying to discover the Phantom Thieves' identities." The surety with which Makoto spoke was honestly surprising, because she was referring to herself.

"You don't have to do this," said Akira.

Makoto shook her head. "If I can have something useful come out of all of this, then I don't mind." Turning towards Ohya, she said. "Please...if this can help other students, then I'll tell you as much as you want."

"...let's not get into telling fairy tales now," said Ohya, sounding suspiciously sober as she reached for a pen and a notepad. "Just give me the facts as you remember them. Start with around the time the first calling card was delivered to Kamoshida."

And so Makoto — without ever hinting at her actual suspicions of the Phantom Thieves' identities — spoke of how Principal Kobayakawa had all but 'recruited' her into investigating Shujin's student body for the cause of Kamoshida's change of heart; about how he had desired such information in order to 'better handle the media and the police'; how he had dangled a letter of recommendation and potential blowback to Sae Niijima's public image in order to get Makoto to cooperate; how he had all but admitted personal knowledge of Kamoshida's crimes and had done nothing; how, when students had begun submitting complaints about becoming victims of phishing scams in Shibuya, he had insisted she keep looking into the Phantom Thieves; and how, upon being confronted by Sae Niijima about these investigations, he had denied knowledge of all of it, making it seem as if all of these activities had been of Makoto's own volition.

Makoto spoke calmly and lucidly, her tone never betraying how she truly felt about the situation.

(Yet, over the course of her retelling, Morgana — situated on the floor under the table — could see Makoto's hands clench at times, as though brimming with righteous indignation...)

"...well, that's quite a bit," murmured Ohya, who had refilled her whiskey by the time Makoto finished talking. "Not gonna be able to reference you by name, but I can draft it in a way to make it plausible...and by keeping it general, I might be able to avoid any defamation claims..." The journalist sighed. "You've given me a lot of material, kiddo. Thanks." After a brief pause, she added, "Still, any shot at me getting an interview with an abuse survivor?"

"...you're quite persistent," observed Makoto.

"Hey, I have to make my bread and butter somehow."

Akira cleared his throat. "I might have some people who would be willing to interview you." It would be either Ann Takamaki or Shiho Suzui...hmm "But I want to talk with them about it before giving them your contact info."

Ohya seemed pleased by this; leaning back in her seat, she said, "Okay! I'm satisfied. So...what is it that you wanted information on?"

Akira glanced at Makoto. "Well, this has been your show so far. Ask your question, Miss President."

("You're letting her ask?" wondered Morgana aloud.)

Makoto blinked. "...did I just hear a cat?"

(Akira lightly nudged the cat with the side of his foot.)

"...no, I'm imagining things..." Shaking her head, she turned back towards Ohya. "There's been a number of phishing scams in Shibuya that have recently begun targeting a lot of students at Shujin Academy...and based on what I've learned, the gang responsible for a lot of them are run by a mafia boss who has control over most of Shibuya's criminal underworld...a man that even the police can't touch. I'm trying to find out who that is."

Ohya sipped her whiskey in a sober manner, arching an eyebrow out of intrigue. "How come?"

"I have business with them." Makoto said nothing more.

"...well, let it be known that I'm not responsible if anything happens to you because you decided to be stupid..." Ohya took another sip. "...Junya Kaneshiro."

Bingo. Akira sat up. "And how do you know this name?"

Ohya snorted. "Because I remember what Shinjuku was like in the days before it got cleaned up, you know? It's like night and day; and Kaneshiro was known back then as someone not to be crossed. And even after the clean-up operation, the rumors I've heard indicate that his group basically absorbed the remnants of all the other non-yakuza gangs that got driven out. Heck, I even remember the informal name for the gang he ran: The Bank."

...well, that's kind of on the nose. (And it also put a certain keyword in a new context...) "The Bank?" remarked Akira and Makoto.

"Yup! Money-grubbers, the lot of them..." Ohya downed the last of her whiskey. "Anyhow, that's my info for ya! Now get out of here, you two; kids shouldn't be out so late, hehee~" Raising her glass, she yelled, "LALA-CHAN! GIMME ANOTHER!"

"...I think we're done here," said Akira, looking towards Makoto, only to blink at the expression on her face: distant, searching, and bewildered. "Niijima-san?"

"...sorry. I'm just...thinking, about something...let's go."

xxxx

As they neared the train station that would take them from Shinjuku, Akira finally decided to put his foot down, because Makoto had been quiet ever since they had left Crossroads. "...did Ohya say something that bothered you?"

"...I'm just thinking about what we learned from Ohya-san, and the owner of the airsoft shop...about how Kaneshiro's gang used to be based out of Shinjuku..." Makoto shook her head. "It's nothing."

I'm sure. However, Akira let it lie...for now. "So...you've got the name of your mafia boss. What now?"

"...I guess that depends on you, doesn't it?" Makoto looked at Akira with a stern expression, losing the strange detachment she had been demonstrating since leaving Crossroads. "The way you've conducted yourself...and the way you speak about recent events...you're definitely part of that group, aren't you?"

Playing cryptic, huh? So can I. "And suppose I was: what would that mean for you?"

"...I want to observe your 'justice' for myself. I want to determine just how you decide whose hearts to change."

"...well, it's not just up to me. How would you react if my little group decided to target, say...Kobayakawa, instead of Kaneshiro? After all, he was guilty of covering up for Kamoshida...and for throwing you under the bus when your sister confronted him. If he admitted his lies..." He trailed off, wondering how Makoto would react.

("So many guys whose names begin with 'K'," murmured Morgana to himself, hiding within Akira's bookbag.)

Makoto wouldn't have anything to do with it. "And I thought I made it clear that what the students are currently going through is much more important than what Principal Kobayakawa did. If you have to go after Kobayakawa...then all I ask is that you take down Kaneshiro first."

Well, I certainly can't fault her priorities too much. "I'm going to have to discuss things with the others first. Our methods are...a bit obscure. But if we decide to go after Kaneshiro..." Holding up his phone, he highlighted the text log between Makoto and 'Ren'. "...I'll let you know."

"...I still can't believe you actually gave me your contact info in such a manner," grumbled Makoto with a pout.

Akira chuckled. "There's usually a method to this delinquent's madness..."

And so they split up, hopping onto different train lines to return to their respective homes.

Sitting in a relatively secluded spot on the train, Akira unzipped his bag to let Morgana stare at him. "You're playing a dangerous game, Joker...how can we trust Niijima not to turn us in?"

"...call it a hunch," muttered Akira, watching the walls and lights of the underground tunnels pass by in a blur. "But do you think she might be a problem?"

"...I dunno, she seems legitimate..."

"Then we'll leave it up to the others to make the final judgment call." We'll just have to coordinate a meeting with everyone in a relatively private spot...I wonder if they'd be up for karaoke?

xxxx

Day: June 17th, 2016

Ended up introducing Miss President to two hobbies: airsoft and investigative journalism.

(Some might call me a man of many talents. I prefer to think of myself as a busybody.)

xxxx

/Saturday: June 18th, 2016/

The Phantom Thieves met at a karaoke box after school; Akira had been relatively frugal with the money they'd earned in the Metaverse, so he was able to get a room just for them. After booking it for an hour, along with some drinks and snacks, they spent a few rounds singing some songs to at least sell the impression that they were using the facility for its intended purpose.

(That, and they were probably still trying to psych themselves up after last week's disastrous foray into Futaba's Palace.)

Then Akira selected a long number called Hoshi To Bokura To—huh, wonder why this one rings a bell?—before joining the others on the couches. "So...let's set the table for where we stand."

"We going to try for Mementos to get stronger?" asked Ryuji, his leg bouncing with pent up energy. "I don't wanna try that desert place again until we can kick the ass of every Shadow there!"

Yusuke — the only other person to visit Mementos that week, and only because of his request to sketch its interior — leaned over, idly staring at the motion of the bubbles in his soda. "From the sound of our Leader's message, he seemed to have something in mind..."

"...so, this'll require me to set the table." Akira leaned back, making sure he was in a position where everyone could hear. "So, remember that day when I said I saw Akechi at Shujin? Well..." He briefly summarized the events from the past Tuesday, recalling how Kobayakawa had thrown Makoto Niijima under the bus for the sake of avoiding Sae Niijima's wrath.

"I was wondering why I've been seeing the principal's name pop up on Phan-Watch more over the past few days," Ann remarked, pointing to a thread started by a user named Fluffy_Lumberjill. "A lot of students are really upset about the lack of attention by the faculty on the phishing scams..."

...Fluffy_Lumberjill? Hmm. Could it be...? Akira set that thought aside for later. "Either way, I decided to make a gamble and gave my contact info to Makoto; she's been tailing us for weeks now, and had her suspicions about our identities...even if she lacked conclusive proof."

Yusuke suddenly sat up, as one having an epiphany. "Was that why she was at Madarame's exhibit back on the fifteenth of May?"

"...I'm surprised you remember something so specific, Yusuke," remarked Morgana between gnawing on a nugget of fried pork.

"She had the potential for a few interesting pieces," said Yusuke, briefly framing Akira between his fingers. "Had I not been possessed by our Leader's own captivating visage, I probably would have asked her to be my model."

"Do you always ask random strangers to do your art stuff?" asked an incredulous Ryuji.

Akira fluffed his hair, playing it up for a hypothetical camera. "I can't help it."

Ann rolled her eyes, playfully shoving Akira on the shoulder. "So...I take it you met with Niijima-san?"

"Yep. Spent yesterday getting a feel for her intentions, while asking around about this 'mafia boss' she's been keen on digging into..." He then summarized her encounter with Iwai in Shibuya...

("What kind of a codename is Ren?" asked Ryuji mid-story, prompting a light flick in the thigh from Akira that caused him to yelp. "Dude, it was just a question!")

("Don't mock my codenames. They detract from the mystery.")

("While codenames are important, let's stay focused," chided Morgana.)

...and then the trip to Shinjuku to see the reporter Ohya, writer of the articles that had helped bring down Madarame. "She seems pretty driven to try and help the students...even to the point of telling me to outright ignore Kobayakawa if it meant we could focus on Kaneshiro." If nothing else, he had given Ryuji and Ann some food for thought regarding the notorious Student Council President, whose reputation at Shujin had been...less than stellar.

"...so Principal Kobayakawa really knew about Kamoshida all along...the bastard," hissed Ann, briefly clutching at her arms. Ryuji huffed, looking downright surly.

Yusuke, lacking any such background with Kobayakawa, simply remarked, "After bringing down an artist of Madarame's renown, it would seem odd to focus on a school principal, even if his sins are reprehensible...furthermore, given that it would be another member of Shujin's faculty, it would only draw attention to you. But bringing down a mafia boss that's extorting adolescents..." Yusuke briefly shuddered at the thought. "We want to give courage to the weak. Isn't this the perfect target to accomplish that goal?"

Akira flipped out his smartphone, opening the Meta-Nav. "Let's at least confirm a couple of things first: the mafia boss Junya Kaneshiro."

"Candidate found," chirped the Nav.

"...and for the other...Masakata Kobayakawa, principal of Shujin Academy."

"Candidate found," droned the Nav, already filling in the keyword for the location of Kobayakawa's Palace: Shujin Academy.

"...Masakata? That's our principal's given name?" asked Ryuji.

Ann huffed. "Masakata...sure doesn't fit."

(Masakata: a name associated with strength, determination, and righteousness.) "His full name is listed on the school website; maybe he doesn't use it because he subconsciously knows he'll be mocked for not living up to the name," mused Akira, mostly shooting in the dark more than anything. After all, I don't exactly have any memories of going after Kobayakawa...but if it means taking his treasure before Akechi can kill him, it'll be worthwhile.

"...does Niijima-san really think that we're the Phantom Thieves?" wondered Ann, looking genuinely curious. "Did she really seem interested in seeing our justice for herself?"

"I think she believes we are," answered Morgan. "This guy all but told her that he's one, but he never said anything about you all. If I'm reading this right...she wanted to accompany us to Kaneshiro's Palace."

...oh, thought Akira, suddenly remembering something. As he idly listened to the others debate the merits of letting the Student Council President witness their actions, his mind suddenly recalled why they had needed Makoto to come along in the first place. We needed her because she was Kaneshiro's 'customer'...and we couldn't get to his Palace in the sky without that. However, by identifying Kaneshiro in such a manner — bringing Makoto along, making her feel involved, helping her escape the sensation of being useless — he might have inadvertently closed that door unknowingly. Did I screw us over?

(Eh, he'd figure out an alternative. Gallivanting into the lair of a mafia boss had enough risks of its own...)

"...do you really think we should bring her along, Aki?" asked Ryuji, bringing Akira out of his introspection. "I mean...it's kind of risky..."

"If we decide to bring her, we'll make sure to get out if things get hot...but I'd prefer we look around first without her, if only to avoid any possible repeats of the ambush in Futaba's Palace," said Akira with an air of finality. "...but before we can do that, we need to figure out the rest of Kaneshiro's keywords." As the others nodded, he stood back up. "So it's decided? We're going after Kaneshiro?"

"We can always target Kobayakawa later," said Morgana. "But Niijima-san was right about one thing: Kaneshiro is far more of a danger than your principal is. So it's only right for the Phantom Thieves to bring him down!"

As Ryuji, Ann, and Yusuke agreed, Akira nodded. "...all right then. Let's brainstorm while we finish off the rest of our karaoke session."

It didn't take long for them to discover that 'Bank' was Kaneshiro's distortion (Ann had picked up that detail based on Akira's retelling of Ohya's information), while 'All of Shibuya' was the location (and, in a great turn of cosmic irony, Ryuji had discovered that keyword in a very similar fashion); however, the concept was eluding them. What could possibly be motivating Kaneshiro? Akira leaned back to think heavily upon this as Ann and Ryuji stepped up to do a duet song, albeit one more focused on the comedic side of things. Kamoshida's perversions consumed him...Madarame's plagiarism defined him...and everything about Futaba is weighed down by the matricide she believes she committed...so what would be the equivalent thing for Kaneshiro...?

In the end, however, it was almost surprisingly simple: from what Akira had managed to recall, Kaneshiro's Shadow had been a self-styled mastermind: suave, deadly, and dreaded. However, underneath it all was a childish man motivated by a fragile ego...and how could such a weak person command an entire gang? By running a confidence trick...defrauding them, in a sense. Pulling the wool over their eyes...hustling their very minds with his own presentation as the Man™, large and in charge. In other words...by living out a Scam that was no less real than the actual scams he subjected his victims to.

And when he said the word, the Meta-Nav chimed out, "Input accepted. Searching for route to destination."

Bingo.

When the song came to an end, the others brightened at the realization that Akira had discovered the last keyword. "So...tomorrow, we'll rendezvous at central street in Shibuya."

Their plans for Sunday were set.

xxxx

Akira did not expect a certain text message to hit his phone after leaving karaoke.

As such, Morgana was rather surprised at his decision to detour to Kichijoji. "Why would you want to meet Akechi at such a late hour?"

"First of all, 7:15 PM isn't late," groused Akira as he left the station. "Secondly, the fact Akechi wants to meet me at all is kind of suspicious. Might as well find out what he's on about."

Needless to say, finding him standing in front of the entryway to Penguin Sniper was rather befuddling; that he wanted to chat over eight-ball pool was even more so.

Still...a game was a game. And it would allow him the chance to see if Akechi was truly in the dark, or if he knew more than he let on. (Plus, an opportunity to pick at the murderer to see what made him tick...well, such opportunities were few and far between...)

The questions went in both directions.

Did the Ace Detective actually have no friends: no, not people he would actually spend time with.

Did Akira actually walk around with a cat in his bag: why yes, he's my emotional support animal, couldn't you tell?

Was Akechi such a competitor that he aimed for a break ace on the first shot: such a shot, good as it was, had been mere luck.

Did Akira go to Kichijoji often: only to avoid stalkers and obsessive people, I say.

How much free time did Akechi have between being on TV and doing investigations: as much as he can handle.

On and on they went, as Akira surprisingly found himself having to concentrate to try and keep even with Akechi. Wasn't a pool shark in my golden years, but the tricks and principles are easy enough to remember, he mused as he sank another ball.

They each traded a game, with the third round being a tiebreaker. As Akechi angled his shot, Akira picked his moment to ask a pointed question. "You visited Shujin-"

The cue stick shot forth at a steeper angle-

Pew!

-and the cue ball went flying towards Akira's face-!

(Max Proficiency!)

-which he caught in his right hand, inwardly wincing at the stinging sensation. "...earlier this week," he finished, lowering the ball to look straight at Akechi.

"My sincerest apologies," remarked Akechi, looking genuinely(?) remorseful. "It was an accident. Nice reflexes though, I must say."

"So I've been told. Anyhow, you came to Shujin earlier this week?"

"Ah, I guess rumors travel fast, no matter what school you attend. But yes, I accompanied a senior associate from the prosecutor's office; she had an unrelated meaning, so I just spent my time...sightseeing."

I'm sure. "And coming to the school where the Phantom Thief rumors first started had nothing to do with it."

Akechi smiled. "Well, one must strike while the iron is hot, as they say..."

Rolling the cue ball in his palm, an idea struck Akira. "Catch." He intentionally tossed it to a particular side...and sure enough, Akechi caught it with his left hand on impulse. "You've been using your right hand to play with ever since after the break ace: a self-imposed handicap?"

The older (physically, at least) boy blinked, surprised as though he had been caught in the act. "My, I'm honestly impressed you noticed. Going all-out against a junior seems a bit gauche...though you've certainly been skilled enough to present a suitable challenge. It makes me wonder if you've also been handicapping yourself..."

"Well, my handicap is less physical and more legal," remarked Akira. "Not that it would take someone like you long to find out what my deal is."

"Is that so? How interesting...you're a very intriguing individual, Kurusu-san."

Same goes for you, Akechi. (Even now, he still couldn't get a read on the boy; either Akechi had been more adept at keeping his public 'mask' on than he remembered...or had more changed than he even realized?)

(You'll have to stay on your toes...)

Alas, their time ran out before they could finish the third round, so they resolved to settle the score on their next hangout.

xxxx

(And all the while, Futaba Sakura had been listening intently to the Phantom Thieves make their plans, using Akira's phone as a vector.)

(All of the roundabout investigations; all of the time spent going about the city, speaking with confidants and friends; time spent outside the Metaverse...)

(I'm not being strung along, thought Futaba with a grimace, even as she tried to fill her mind with white noise—ambient thoughts, esoteric tangents, digital imaginations—to drown out the sounds of her nightmares. I...I can hold on...)

xxxx

(After departing Penguin Sniper, Akechi encountered a certain inspector waiting for him at a nearby parking garage. "So, did you enjoy your little hangout?" the man asked, a spent cigarette hanging limply from his lips.)

("You were more than welcome to accompany me, Inspector Yamadera," said Akechi with a cool tone.)

("Ah, but I prefer far more mature company," the older man admitted, rubbing at the back of his head with a tired grin. "I would only drag down the mood, I'm afraid...")

(Akechi frowned. "And yet you became my minder because...?")

("Well, somebody has to ensure you stay in your lane...after all, I'm sure your boss would hate to realize what you have planned for him...")

(Akechi did not share the inspector's dry amusement. "Just get in the car and drive me home. I've had a long week.")

("By your word, Akechi-kun..." Said the man, his ponytail slightly bobbing as he nodded.)

xxxx

(And lastly...Makoto Niijima, upon returning home, had done some research. Sae was working late at the office...as had become far more common these days...)

(She had not had a reason to go through her late father's effects; stuffed deep within Sae Niijima's closet, they were less a memorial and more of a specter that haunted their household: a testament to the death that had ushered Sae into the fullness of adulthood before she had even begun her career.)

(Yet...Makoto found herself invading the privacy of her sister's room: an action that she would not have dared to countenance even earlier that week.)

(Her father had been a man of few possessions; most of his manuscripts had been repossessed by the police due to being tied with old cases. Furthermore, her father had always been more of a man of deeds than the written word, at least at home.)

(However...he had always been something of a meticulous person, with a fine attention to detail; he had had a daily planner to help fulfill that purpose.)

(And so she turned to those fateful dates from three years ago, looking at terse references to meetings that she had only heard of in passing.)

(February 2, 2013: make deposits at the Bank. February 7, 2013: make withdrawals at the Bank. February 18, 2013: set up an account at the Bank.)

(How many times had father spoken about going to the bank? How many times had been genuine...and how many had been in reference to investigating a vicious gang of scammers and smugglers: a codeword hiding in plain sight?)

(On and on...until, finally, there were no more dates entered.)

(Makoto briefly stared at the last entry that had been penned in far in advance.)

(April 23, 2013: celebrate my dear Makoto's 15th birthday!)

(Makoto swiftly put everything away and made it look like she hadn't ever entered Sae's room.)

(Her mind was plagued by wild thoughts—could it be? Could it possibly...?—and forlorn longing for happier days...)

(At least, until later that night, when she got a random text message from 'Ren', informing her—as promised—that his group had chosen to target Kaneshiro. However, he had not provided any further details.)

(And so she began to plan...)

xxxx

/Sunday: June 19, 2016/

The Phantom Thieves agreed to meet around 9 AM that day at Buchiko Square, primed and ready to enter the Metaverse.

By the time Akira arrived, Ryuji and Ann had already been present, talking...quite animatedly about something. "You two seem pretty jazzed about something."

"Eh, we've been talking about team attacks to try and increase our 'oomph' in the Metaverse, you know?" explained Ryuji. "Like, dual techs and combos and junk."

Ann nodded. "And to be honest, he was making it sound pretty cool...and everyone knows that the cooler an attack, the more powerful it is! We just haven't really decided on what to do, yet..."

"That's a fair enough idea," remarked Akira, looking down as Morgana poked his head out of his bag. "You've got something?"

"I've been waiting for this," confidently said Morgana. "Lady Ann, if a finisher is what you're looking for, then allow me to prove my gentlemanly ways with this idea!"

("What gentleman? You're a cat," groused Ryuji under his breath.)

As Morgana finished explaining it, Akira was surprised by just how involved it was. "You've been sitting on this for a minute, haven't you?"

Morgana nodded. "With how rough our last foray was, I've been thinking deeply about ways to increase our aptitude. And Metaverse-exclusive finishers are the way to go! Plus, it'll only allow us to show off how cool we Phantom Thieves really are!"

True enough, thought Akira. But how and why would an enemy allow them to pull it off...?

(At that moment, within his pocket, a certain star — gifted to him by an enigmatic boy — began to gleam...)

"Well, I'm certainly up for pulling it off!" exclaimed Ann.

(Little did Akira know, but he had been followed from the station, by someone who had been there even earlier...)

xx

As they waited for Yusuke to arrive, Akira briefly brought up Ohya's offer about an interview. "I think either you or Suzui-san would be good for it...because even though Kamoshida's confessed his crimes, there are still a lot of abusers like him in the world."

"...can I think about it? I want to talk with Shiho about it first..."

Ann looked contemplative about that, which was good enough for Akira. "And the other thing we talked about? With your folks?"

The look in Ann's eyes was enough for him to let it lie.

xx

When Yusuke arrived, Akira led them towards Central Street.

(Little did they know, but they were followed at a distance...)

They walked through the small corner street, moving past the closed doors of Untouchable. No one was around...for the moment. "If Kaneshiro's Palace is all of Shibuya, then we should be able to enter here...is everyone ready?" When they nodded, Akira looked down at his phone, opening the Meta-Nav...

(...and were still being followed, by someone moving with stealth that could have been called uncharacteristic...)

...and clicking the destination. "Beginning navigation," chimed the app.

The world slowly fell away, revealing a facsimile of Shibuya underneath an unnatural sky of black and green; the street lights were bizarre colors, and yen notes fluttered through the air, carried by an unnatural wind. More to the point, walking ATM machines moved about in a mindless way. "What a wretched looking place..." murmured Fox.

"ATM machines with arms and legs...is this how Kaneshiro sees people...?" wondered Panther aloud.

"It would make sense," agreed Mona. "If he views all of Shibuya as his bank, then this must be how he subconsciously sees people: a mere means of getting more money."

Skull snorted. "What a jackass."

Joker cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "Let's try and find out where the core of his Palace is." I mean, I already know where it is...but how are we going to get up there? Maybe we can use one of my Personas to fly up there...that's a possibility. Turning on his heel, Joker moved to take the lead...only to pause at the sight of someone who should not have been there. "What the?"

The others followed Joker's vision, only to realize what — nay, who — he was looking at. "Impressive camouflage," observed Fox.

Indeed: the darker colors of her pants and slim jacket had enabled Makoto Niijima to blend in rather well; furthermore, the muted baseball cap had so altered her silhouette that no one had even recognized her in their periphery...and yet, her wide red eyes, utterly flummoxed by how the world had transformed around her, were all too distinctive. "So...is...this...how the Phantom Thieves work...?"

"Dude, we got tailed by the Student Council Prez?!" exclaimed an incredulous Skull.

...why did she pick now of all times to get a good roll for Stealth, mentally grumbled Joker. "So...I'm sure you have questions, Niijima-senpai."

"...that...would be putting it mildly, Kurusu-san..."

xx

Amidst the lengthy explanation, Makoto's eyes fell towards Mona. "So...you can really talk to your cat...?"

"I'm not a cat!" he protested.

"We'll be here all day if we play out this shtick," interrupted Joker. "Continuing on..."

xx

After spending a bit of time to give Makoto a crash course on the Metaverse, she seemed to have caught on admirably well. "...so it's not even optical illusion, but a real manifestation of how one's heart 'sees' the world...so a 'change of heart' would be akin to overwriting one's cognition..."

"Wow...you really are smart," remarked Panther.

"No kiddin'," murmured Skull.

However, Panther wasn't done. "...which makes your ignorance of what Kamoshida did all the more inexplicable."

Do I see actual fire in the back of her throat? wondered Joker with surprise.

"...I know," admitted Makoto, who looked genuinely ashamed. "I've...come to understand just how little I've been able to do...but I...didn't know any other way of being useful..." A burning gleam entered her eyes. "...which is why I have to witness your justice for myself. I want to know just what it is you do..."

"...why are you so fired up for this?" wondered Skull. "I mean, what caused you to change your mind about...everything?"

"...it's a private family matter," remarked Makoto, looking directly at Joker. "But to put a long story short...I remembered a great man that my sister and I both looked up to: a man who inspired us both with his sense of justice. And after everything that's happened...I wanted to reclaim some of that for myself."

Fox couldn't help but chuckle. "No wonder I thought you would've made for a great model."

Makoto tilted her head. "Huh?"

"...stay close with us, Niijima-senpai, and stick to our codenames. We'll do what we can to show you just who we are," Joker vowed. Looking up at the floating bills of money, he remarked, "The currency seems to be going in a specific direction; let's follow it."

After a few minutes of walking — going past listless ATM machines, broken cognitions of past victims, and burnt-out wreckage of police vehicles, of all things — they saw their target: a flying saucer in the sky, sucking up money from all of Shibuya. "A reflection of how untouchable Kaneshiro believes himself to be, huh?" remarked Mona.

"How in the world are we going to get up there?" asked Panther. "You can turn into a van; how about a helicopter?"

As Mona explained the commonality of cognitions and how they limited what he could do, Joker decided to make a gamble. "I'll see if my Persona can make it up there. Arsène!"

Makoto leapt back with alarm as the debonair Persona manifested in a flourish of black and red, his great wings spreading majestically. "Whoa...so this is what your other self looks like...?"

"You should see mine," said Skull with a grin. "He's a pirate with a cannon for an arm!"

Joker focused, willing his Persona to ascend into the sky; as Arsène dutifully zoomed towards the floating den of gluttonous avarice, Joker thought about the logistics of carrying everyone up into the sky-

"WE GOT A PIG COMING IN HOT," roared a boisterous voice that echoed over the sky. "BLAST 'EM OUT OF THE SKY!"

Joker barely registered the sensation of numerous turrets and cannons opening up on the underside of the Palace's core before they opened fire; there was a flash of fire and heat that seared through his mind before he blacked out...

(...ow. You could have done a bit better than that...)

...and there was an annoying ringing in Joker's ears as he finally came to, staring straight at the sky; he'd been laid out on his back. "...bwuh?"

"You had us worried," solemnly said Fox.

"Thank goodness for the medicine from Takemi's Clinic," remarked Mona, pointing at the packet of Revivadrin in Skull's hands.

"Your Persona got obliterated in an instant," murmured Panther, eyes downcast and lip curled into a pensive expression. "And you just...collapsed..."

"The blood comin' out of your nose wasn't fun to see either," grumbled Skull, pointing at the smudges on the tip of his ascot: doubtless what he'd use to wipe Joker's face clean. "You okay?"

Joker groaned, feeling for the Personas lingering in the back of his mind; the closest metaphor he could think of was that his brain had an actual cramp. "...been better..."

Makoto stood at the edge of the group, looking down with genuine uncertainty and trepidation. "Was...it like this with Kamoshida and Madarame...?"

"...each Palace reflects the distortions of their Rulers in unique ways, and comes with their own dangers," said Mona. "This must be why we've seen so many destroyed police vehicles: anyone who's not allowed into Kaneshiro's Bank is immediately destroyed...a reflection of how he considers himself to be untouchable."

"Then how are we going to get up there?" asked Panther. "Joker's our strongest member, and he got taken down in one shot!"

"-don't put'ur'self down," slurred Joker, still trying to get his wits about. "We'll...find a way..." He looked up at Makoto, noticing a strangely...contemplative look in her eyes. She's plotting something. "...Niijima-senpai...?"

"...the debts of the deceased pass down to their heirs," murmured Makoto. "When my father passed away...my older sister inherited everything: assets and debts..." With a renewed purpose, she slowly turned towards the cognitive double of Shibuya Crossing, staring at the ominous underbelly of the Palace's core structure. "...but there's an account I'm sure never got settled..."

The Thieves watched tentatively as Makoto took a few steps forward. "Uh, what's she doin'...?" wondered Skull.

Makoto stopped; inhaled; and roared. "JUNYA KANESHIRO!" Her voice echoed from the sides of the skyscrapers, sounding improbably loud in this realm of the mind. "I AM HERE TO SETTLE ANY AND ALL DEBTS OWED TO YOU BY ONE MASARU NIIJIMA!"

There was a foreboding silence...and, to everyone's surprise, a sloping escalator rolled down to the ground, waiting for them.

"...holy shit," dumbly said Skull.

Masaru Niijima? The name struck a chord to Joker; the Last Time Around™, it had been the given name of Makoto and Ryuji's firstborn son, Masaru Sakamoto. She had named him...after her father...wait a minute, she can't mean-

Makoto turned back, looking at them with a forced stoicism. "Well...you have your way in..."

Joker grimaced, slowly rising to his feet. "...everyone, be in a protective formation around Niijima-senpai. Stay on your toes."

"I know aikido...but I guess against the sort of defenses that attacked you, it probably wouldn't help," murmured Makoto.

The Thieves calmly yet soberly ascended the stairwell into the sky, staring upon the grandiose and gilded entrance into the Bank of Kaneshiro: even the leaves on the decorative trees seemed to be made of yen notes. "So who is 'Masaru'?" wondered Fox. "Your father?"

Makoto said nothing.

"You made it seem like he was a customer of Kaneshiro's." Fox, despite being rather loopy and esoteric at the best of times, was still a rather intelligent young man for the most part. "Does that mean...?"

"...my father was an officer on the payroll of the Tokyo Police. He was part of a unit that investigated gang activity. And..." Makoto trailed off, focusing on opening the door; sure enough, the interior was very similar to the average bank.

Two Shadows, looking like caricatures of security guards, approached with batons. "The Bank President is aware that you want to settle accounts for a delinquent customer. Follow us." The Phantom Thieves were all on edge as Makoto followed the Shadows beyond the teller stalls, entering a conference room with a television set in the wall. "You will wait in here."

As the two Shadows closed the door behind them, Skull kicked nervously at the ground. "Got a bad feelin' about this..."

"And why would you?" echoed a voice from the television; staring at the camera was a pudgy man in a fine silver suit with purple skin, slick black hair, and a thin mustache. Tellingly, however, were his eyes: the menacing yellow of a Shadow's. "A 'bad feeling' implies negative connotations; I am a generous man, willing to lend money to all...so long as they pay me back. Isn't that right, Miss Beautiful President?"

Makoto grimaced, realizing that he was talking to her. "...so, you know me...and you must be Junya Kaneshiro."

("He looks fugly," growled Skull.)

"It's only sensible to keep track of a customer's relationships. Masaru Niijima had two daughters: one the beautiful Student Council President of a troubled school racked by controversy; the other a beautiful Public Prosecutor, whose record is as impressive as her reputation is unsavory..."

(The way Kaneshiro described Makoto and Sae made Panther seethe. "What a creep...")

"Don't talk about my family like you know us," Makoto growled.

Unsavory? wondered Joker. (Was he referring to Sae Niijima's distorted desires? How would Kaneshiro know about that?)

"Don't underestimate our intelligence network," said Kaneshiro's Shadow with detached disdain. "I find it surprising that you would approach me; with the passing of Masaru Niijima, I had considered his account with us to be closed. How dutiful of you, to take up his debt for yourself...but it's been three years. The interest has piled on quite extensively...and I doubt a high school student has access to funds capable of paying it off."

("I can't tell if he's referring to something real or if he's only speaking metaphorically through the filter of Kaneshiro's cognition," whispered Mona. "Was her father actually a customer of Kaneshiro's for real...?")

"Fortunately, there's a method of paying off such debt that's far simpler to come by for youths like yourselves," said Kaneshiro's Shadow with an undisguised leer. When Makoto and Panther recoiled, the Shadow chuckled. "Ah, but young women are such great assets: lacking social, physical or mental strength...and young men lack the brains to make use of whatever strength they do possess." Looking at them all, he sneered. "What wondrous goods have fallen into my lap: naive fools who exist only to be devoured by the strong."

("Truly despicable..." said Fox with a scowl.)

"You're a real charmer, you know that?" grumbled Joker. "I don't care how you knew Masaru Niijima: you deserve to be punished for your crimes. So we're going to take your Treasure and make you confess your sins!" vowed the Phantom Thieves' leader.

"Don't make me laugh, petty thieves: do you really think that my citadel can be pierced by your paltry selves?" As the two Shadow guards burst in from outside — followed by two more manifesting in front of the television — Kaneshiro's Shadow taunted them with a sleazy grin. "You're no heroes; if the price is high enough, you'll pay it...because anyone will do anything for money. Guards: get them."

"EVERYONE, ATTACK POSITIONS!" yelled Joker. "PROTECT NIIJIMA-SENPAI!"

xx

(The sheer chaos that had erupted within the conference room was unbelievable; the security guards morphed into monsters — oni and demons straight out of Japanese folklore — and the Phantom Thieves summoned mythical figures of their own to fight back.)

(It was unreal; unnerving; haunting.)

(Yet, as Makoto was ushered out of the conference room—following the Phantom Thieves as they made a fighting retreat—she could not help but wonder about the way in which Kaneshiro spoke of her father. He knows. He must know. He HAS to know...)

(Her father had died in the midst of investigating the gang that Makoto now knew to be Kaneshiro's.)

(A death that had been ruled an accidental homicide: an errant truck, causing an impact that had killed both victim and driver.)

(She had to make sure...she had to make sure...)

(Because the burden of this knowledge was damning enough...but how could she stomach living if it meant the others would die because of her misguided desire to be useful...?)

xx

As the Thieves spilled out into the bank lobby — surrounded by yet more guards — the mocking laughter of Kaneshiro's Shadow sounded out, no longer filtered through the tinny speakers of a television set. "What an amusing display!" boasted the corpulent gangster, flanked by two burly Shadows. "You seem to be in quite the pickle...even though your value as goods is quite high, I do have a Bank to manage; if clients are more trouble than they're worth, killing them is no obstacle. Just imagine the example it would set, for the Phantom Thieves to suddenly disappear into oblivion..."

"You greedy asshole," snarled Skull. "You think you have what it takes to stop us?!"

"This world is far bigger than you imagine, kid," sneered Kaneshiro's Shadow. "And even if the exploits of your group have become quite the story as of late, you're nothing but little tadpoles, with no idea of just how vast the ocean is..."

"Stop it!" cried Makoto, suddenly stepping forward. "They only targeted you because I asked them to!"

"Fear not: you're a far more valuable asset. I can only imagine what sort of scandals your older sister would be willing to endure for your sake...or would it be more scandalous if she considered it good riddance? Would she truly miss you, if she learned that you had been sold off?" Kaneshiro's Shadow sighed melodramatically. "Poor Sae Niijima...imagine the success she could have obtained, if only her sister and father weren't so dumb."

Makoto went still. "...you keep going on and on about my father..." She slowly looked up, staring intently at him. "...did you have anything to do with his death...?"

"And why would I confess anything to the likes of a dumb little weakling like yourself?" taunted the mafia boss. "If you were serious about settling your father's accounts...then you'll start taking customers tomorrow. Just endure and do as you're told...that's all you're good for."

It had been a long time since Joker had thought about Kaneshiro; he had honestly forgotten just how vindictive and slimy he was. "You..."

"...endure it..." whispered Makoto. "Do as I'm told..."

"There's what I like to see: realization of just how useless this whole exercise truly was! You, your father, the Phantom Thieves, anyone: it doesn't matter who opposes me! If I can't make money off of you, I'll rob you of everything; even your very lives, as easily as I breathe air!"

xx

(The mocking laughter of Kaneshiro's Shadow...was yet another reminder of just how unjust the whole situation was.)

(A vicious adult, seeking to take advantage of those weaker than him...for mere money?)

(This man had ruined the lives of countless people...just for this...?)

(To be called useless...by such a wretched being...)

(How could it be anything more...than a most horrific injustice...?)

(But what could she do...what could she do...?)

"Indeed: what can you do?"

(The Phantom Thieves, one and all, had stood up to take justice into their own hands...)

"What can you do, except endure the path of strife?"

(...just as her father had sought to see justice done...)

"You once saw such justice with clear eyes; eyes that have since been clouded; the thought of losing sight of it again...is anathema!"

(...because no one else was willing to do it...)

"Your false self: a weak and useless thing, unwilling to move forward righteously...do you now desire to finally stand up for yourself?"

(...not even her. But that was finally going to change! "Yes...come to me...")

"Very good...I am thou, and thou art I."

(As her eyes gleamed yellow, and the pain within her soul threatened to burn out of control, she finally found the words to fit the shape of that fire. "Let's ride...")

"Let this contract stand as a sterling vow: one that will endure in the face of this man's putrid scams..."

("...Johanna...!")

"...and serve as a testament to your own justice, now and forever!"

xx

The gangster's laughter was suddenly overwhelmed by an explosion of blue fire...and then, by the revving of a motorcycle's engine.

Amidst spectral flames and the clanking chains of a Persona breaking free of one's limits, Makoto Niijima — clad in a skintight bodysuit of two-toned leather and an imposing mask of iron — sat upon the seat of a two-wheeled motorcycle clad in silver, with a metallic woman's stoic face imprinted underneath the blue windshield.

"What the hell?!" exclaimed Kaneshiro's Shadow.

"I've heard you go on and on," growled Makoto, her dark scarf billowing in the wind with all the dramatic energy of a masked superhero. "And I'm sick of hearing you talk, you money-grubbing asshole!" With a roar of Johanna's engine and a burst of atomic energy, Makoto stormed the lines of the stunned Palace Ruler's forces.

"HOLY SHIT THAT'S A BIKE!" exclaimed Skull.

I think we noticed that, wryly thought Joker, nonetheless feeling a burst of invigoration. "You heard the lady, team! Let's shut him up!"

Without hesitation, the Phantom Thieves threw themselves into the fray with renewed vigor.

Alas, despite the boost to their confidence and power that came from Makoto's awakening to her Persona, there were still a lot of Shadows in Kaneshiro's Palace.

Eventually, when the pressure died down just a bit, Joker yelled, "EVERYONE! FALL BACK!"

Mona immediately sensed his opportunity, for he turned towards Panther. "Let's show our finisher to clear a path!"

"Oh? That thing? Now?" she exclaimed.

"We can do it!" boasted Mona.

"Well, if you say so...!"

Do what now? Joker glanced at Mona and Panther out of his peripheral vision, their bodies shining with a strange red and white aura...and, well, he half-convinced himself that he was hallucinating. A field of flowers?

("A lady only deserves the best!" exclaimed Mona, pulling a bouquet of roses from literally nowhere.)

("Oh, thank you!" said Panther with a smile.)

...wait, why do they look like a shoujo manga?

("You've got good taste!" exclaimed Panther as she withdrew double submachineguns, spinning in place and firing with abandon.)

How are none of the bullets hitting us?!

(Jumping high into the air, Panther fired upon a host of enemies from above, while Mona pulled out-)

Wait, since when does he carry a bomb!?

(-an explosive that consumed the enemies in fire; Panther slid forward on her knees while Mona raised his arms, both striking a pose. In the next instant, the fantastic scene faded, and the Shadows which had been blocking their path to the entrance were gone.)

...you know what, not gonna question it. "WE'VE GOT OUR PATH, PEOPLE!"

Moments later, Makoto's bike and the Mona-bus rocketed away from the Bank of Kaneshiro.

xxxx

As far as debriefings went, Big Bang Burger was far from the most grandiose of places to have them...yet, it gave everyone a chance to refuel.

Plus, the sight of prim and proper Makoto Niijima wolfing down a cheeseburger with all the fixings would remain with Akira for the rest of his days.

"Dude, you went ham on that thing," muttered Ryuji with an almost reverent tone.

Makoto, face flushed red, remarked, "W-well, I was...surprisingly famished, after...that." Sighing, she added, "I must say, it's hard not to talk about everything that just happened..."

"Practice makes perfect," said Yusuke. "But I can't help but wonder as to the things you discussed in the Palace...particularly with regards to your father."

Makoto suddenly seemed hesitant; Akira decided to intervene. "To be fair, none of us have what you would consider 'picture perfect' families...so it's not like we would be in position to judge you."

"...I suppose so. And after what that man said, I can't blame you all for being curious." And so Makoto went into her story: of how her father, Masaru Niijima, had been a police officer; about how he had been a sterling example of justice in her eyes; how he had been investigating criminal activity in Shinjuku three years ago, until his untimely death at the hands of an errant truck driver; how she had overheard at the funeral that the police had suspected her father had been outright assassinated by the gang he had been looking into. "I...found my father's old daily planner. And I saw so many references to the gang that that reporter had mentioned..."

No wonder she looked so distraught the other night. "So...you think Kaneshiro's the one ultimately responsible?"

"He spoke of your father as someone who was a 'customer'," wondered Morgana, sitting quietly between Makoto and Akira in the booth. "What could that mean?"

"...I don't know what lengths my father went to in order to investigate 'The Bank'," said Makoto, sounding cautious. "But...whatever happened, he was deemed enough of a threat to be taken out..."

"...given what we've seen in the prior Palaces, we'll probably find something related to that," said Ann with a downcast look. "Are you...okay with that possibility...?"

Makoto, to her credit, thought about it. "...I can't afford to turn away from the truth now. To do so...would be to turn my back on the vow I've just made. All the knowledge I've gained...it wouldn't mean anything, if I just kept my head down in the face of evil."

"Daaamn," said Ryuji with a big grin.

"She sounds like she would be quite the advisor," remarked Yusuke, framing her again with his field of vision. "I wonder if I could get a similar impact as Jacques-Louis David's famous portrait of Napoleon...but instead of crossing the Alps, it would be Niijima-san crossing the congested highways of human sin upon her sterling steed..."

Makoto tilted her head. "...huh?"

"Yusuke's like that," said Akira, brushing off her confusion. "Anyhow, it doesn't seem like anyone opposes you joining our group...so welcome board, Niijima-senpai."

"I've noticed that you've all been using your given names," she remarked. "Please, don't hesitate to treat me the same way."

Akira arched an eyebrow. "Okay, let's test that. Call me by my first name."

"...um...Ren...?"

Everyone blinked. "Uh, ain't that his other codename?" wondered Ryuji.

Makoto flushed. "Um, wait, I didn't mean to..." At the sight of Akira's growing grin, she hung her head. "You're awful."

"Guilty as charged," joked Akira.

The group made plans to bring Makoto into Mementos later that week to help her practice alongside everyone else; after that, they parted ways...

xxxx

Day: June 19th, 2016

Saw a future queen storm a bank atop a silver motorcycle. Try and guess the name of the movie this is for, whoever may be reading this journal!

Also watched a politician deliver a speech about the importance of keeping promises...and he meant it. (Shocking, I know!)

xxxx

/Monday: June 20, 2016/

It was strange, realizing that the Phantom Thieves had effectively no time limit on investigating Kaneshiro's Palace.

Yet Akira was not going to complain, seeing as how it mean they could plan ahead with some flexibility. We got Kaneshiro...and we have Futaba...and there's also the matter of Kobayakawa to look into...I wonder if Medjed is going to be a thing, this time around? Questions for later, alas; as he quietly headed for the rooftop to work at the Gardening 'Club' during lunch. Makoto and Ann are having a gal-pal session in the Student Council room to clear out some bad blood, and Ryuji finally bit the bullet to have his mandatory counseling session with Dr. Maruki. Though, to be fair, Ryuji had been oddly contemplative since Makoto's official introduction to the group yesterday. Probably dredged up some unsettled stuff in his heart regarding his old man...eh, not my place to pry.

Besides, he had something more important to focus on.

Coming to the rooftop, he wasn't surprised to see Haru Okumura already hard at work. "Oh, hello Kurusu-kun!" Glancing at his bookbag, she asked, "You brought your bookbag?"

"I figure I might as well put some context to certain rumors you might have heard about me. Plus, he's been quite interested in meeting you in person."

("No I haven't," growled Morgana within his bookbag.)

Haru tilted her head, only to gasp with happiness as Akira pulled out the blue-eyed tuxedo cat. "So this is the infamous Mr. Kitty!"

"Mr. Kitty?" groaned Morgana.

"And he's a talker too!" she added, oblivious to his actual speech. "Mind if I hold him?"

"By all means, milady," he said, holding out Morgana. (With a glance, he all but said 'Keep it cool' to the Most Definitely Not a Cat™.)

(Morgana's deadpan stare said volumes...at least, until Haru managed to find a certain spot behind his ear which made him melt in her arms.)

xx

Upon leaving the rooftop near the end of lunch, Akira looked pointedly at his bookbag.

Morgana resisted...for a few moments. "...okay, I understand why you like her. She's pretty cool."

"Will you apologize for calling me a simp?"

"...wait, are you still going on about that?"

"Yes. Yes I am. I am allowed to be unreasonably petty about something."

xxxx

The Phantom Thieves decided to meet that afternoon at Leblanc: not only to introduce Makoto to Akira's actual 'home', but to bring her up to speed on where they currently stood, and how their 'missions' worked.

(Sojiro was visibly surprised at the idea that he had somehow become acquaintances with Shujin's Student Council President. "I certainly hope he hasn't been too much trouble...")

However, before doing anything, they had to explain everything related to Alibaba...and hence, about Futaba Sakura.

(That is, after Makoto had an embarrassed double take at the sight of the Yusuke's painting of a nude Akira on the wall above the couch...but that was neither here nor there.)

Sitting in Akira's attic room, keeping relatively quiet, Makoto had listened intently to everything from the others...including the results of their disastrous foray into Futaba's Palace over a week ago. "I see..." Making sure to keep her voice low, she said, "So...is Futaba listening right now?"

Akira looked down at his phone.

ALIBABA: I'm never *not* listening.
Akira: Do you want to talk?
ALIBABA: ...
ALIBABA: I might as well.

Akira raised his head. "She is. She also wants to talk." Dialing Futaba's phone number, he handed it over to Makoto. "It's not on speaker, for what it's worth; you're the one who has to sell yourself to Futaba."

"No pressure, huh?" murmured Ryuji.

Makoto didn't hesitate, calmly bringing the phone up to her ear. "Hello, Futaba? Yes; it's Makoto Niijima...uh-huh. Yes. I'm listening carefully..." The others listened as Makoto quietly paced around, listening to Futaba talk; she also asked some pointed questions at times, mostly regarding how Futaba had been supporting the Phantom Thieves, and how her current situation was being handled.

"...she's so serious," whispered Ann, trying to chew a chocolate-covered pretzel as silently as possible.

Yusuke had taken to sketching her.

Morgana's tail rapidly flicked back and forth, interested in how Makoto comported herself.

Dorks, the lot of you, fondly thought Akira; after a few minutes, Makoto handed the phone back to him. "So...what do you think?"

After a few seconds, Futaba answered, "...she...seems legit. Whatever you guys decide to do...I'll try to hold on as long as possible..."

"Don't put it like that," he swore, trying his utmost to show how protective he wanted to be. "'Holding on' implies that you're hanging onto a cliff, about to fall...we're here to help you to your feet. But no matter how daunting a fall it seems, you can still get up. Just...don't give up. Please."

He didn't know what she thought about his words, because she hung up after a lengthy silence.

"...you really seem torn up about Futaba Sakura," observed Makoto: arms crossed, and hands quietly resting on her elbows.

Akira mulled over his words—I'm torn up about a lot of things Makoto, such as losing a life I really liked, having to go through a bunch of bullcrap at the hand of some mysterious 'Ruin', and having to live through the suffering of family and friends that we had already gotten past decades ago, and I can't just snap my fingers and make it all go away...!—before replying, "Well...I guess you had to be there when my probation officer told me the story about Futaba. It was pretty emotional."

"...well, if nothing else, this tells me that your focus on Kaneshiro would be compromised because of your concern for Futaba," she (rightly) remarked. "So...I think we should help Futaba first."

Everyone stared, surprised. "For real?" said Ryuji. "But what about Kaneshiro-?"

"If what you've all said is true, then his real self doesn't know anything about what we did yesterday," Makoto said. "As a mafia boss, his Palace will require us all to be on top of our game...and if, as you've all said, Joker is our most versatile combatant...then we need to ensure he's on the top of his game as well."

...man, I forgot how good she was at this sort of thing. He had honestly forgotten the sense of direction and focus that Makoto had brought to their group; the advantage of future knowledge and past experience had enabled him to wrangle Morgana, Ryuji, Ann, and Yusuke along with relatively little difficulty...but it had been mentally taxing, trying to keep everything going by himself. Talk about a godsend. "Well, I have no objections." Pulling out his phone, he said, "Let's select some targets for Mementos; once Alibaba confirms that they've received their calling cards, we'll head to Mementos after school. This way, we get practice fighting together...and then, later this week, we'll take another crack at Futaba's Palace."

With their course set, the Phantom Thieves swiftly went about looking through Phan-Watch, endeavoring to select suitable hearts to change.

(All the while, enmeshed within the protection of the tomb that was her room, Futaba Sakura listened to them all discuss and debate who they should go for; the fact that they had given a definitive timeframe for returning to her heart made crafting the calling cards a little bit easier...)

xxxx

Day: June 20th, 2016

A fluffy-haired gardener had a very high opinion of my cat. I hereby give him the title "Ultimate Wingman™"

Also, Miss President visited the cafe today for a study session with my friends. Would it be too scandalous to think of her as a friend as well?

The choice is up to you, dear Reader!

xxxx

/Tuesday: June 21, 2016/

The targets had been selected, and Alibaba had sent the calling cards electronically.

(Amongst their number was one that had been recommended by Yusuke; apparently, he had overheard a student at Kosei complaining about an aggressive paparazzi harassing a classmate...up to and including stalking her to a church in Kanda. "Hifumi Togo is the one being harassed," Yusuke had remarked. "A quiet and graceful individual, fully aware of her own womanhood." He and the others honestly hadn't known what to make of such a comment; Yusuke, confused by their confusion, hadn't been able to explain what he had meant.)

It was upon entering Mementos that discussions about codenames ensued: Shoulder Pads, Rider, Fixer, Empress, Speedster, Spikes, Iron Lady...when they finally turned to Joker for his input, he spent a few seconds before throwing out Queen.

"...I can definitely see the angle you're going for," remarked Panther. "But why Queen?"

"Well, she is the Student Council President. But Prez wouldn't have the same vibe, so Queen makes sense as a synonym...plus, I think there's some foreign band by the same name who had a song about bicycle racing, and her Persona's a bike..."

"...dude, the stuff you know sometimes is kind of weird," wondered Skull.

"Notwithstanding that Johanna is a motorcycle and not a bicycle...I like it." Queen summoned her Persona, swinging her leg to get on the seat. "So...I guess I can follow along behind the...Mona-Van, was it? He transformed when we made our escape from Kaneshiro's Palace..."

As Mona transformed into his distinctive vehicular form, Joker remarked, "Well, given that this form is based on a cognition of a cat turning into a bus from My Neighbor Kokoro, we've been calling him the Mona-bus."

"...but he's not a bus, he's a van," Queen logically pointed out.

(...well, she wasn't wrong on that.) "...true, but-"

"I mean, she does have a point," remarked Panther.

"...Mona-bus...Mona-Van...for some reason, the former doesn't merit as much emphasis," murmured Fox, inspecting the feline vehicle from multiple angles.

Skull looked at Joker with confusion. "It's just a name, ain't it? I mean, if she wants to call it a Mona-Van and you want to call it a Mona-bus, is it that big of a deal?"

"...I guess not. I'm just a stickler for consistency, is all." (Plus, it had been the preferred nickname used by the Phantom Thieves the Last Time Around™...) "Guess we can put it to a vote? Who's up for calling this the Mona-Van?"

Not only did everyone else raise their hand, but the vehicular cat revved his engine with approval. "I mean, I am currently a van, if you want to be technical...I've just been referring to myself as a bus because of the cognition..."

"...well, I guess that's that, then." With a smile, headed for the driver's side door. "Okay everyone! Into the Mona-Van™."

(And so another aspect of your old life falls away...)

xxxx

It was whilst exploring the Path of Chemdah — having already defeated the Shadows of a cyberstalking girl from Shujin, an abusive boyfriend, and the paparazzi harassing Hifumi Togo — that Jose made another appearance.

As they followed Jose to the familiar dead end populated by cartoonish stars, Joker quietly gathered the flowers and stamps they had collected thus far.

("...why is there a child here in the Metaverse?" wondered Queen.)

("I think he lives here," answered Skull with a shrug.)

"Hey, good job!" exclaimed Jose, looking over at the newest member of the group. "That lady has a pretty cool car!"

"Well, it's a bike, if you want to be technical."

"So there are bicycles that can vroom-vroom like cars? Got it!" Honk honk, went his little horn. "So, I see you've used my gift already!" As he transformed the collected flowers into a drink, he added, "I hope you liked it."

"...gift?" Reaching into his pocket for the wish-granting star (which seemed like it never left his person...how did that work, and why wasn't he questioning it more...?), he glanced at its luminous form. "When would I have used it?"

Peering intently at it, Jose answered, "The one where the cat and the pretty lady combined powers! It was cool, wasn't it?"

"...wait, this enabled their finishing move?" That was a new one. "That's a pretty unusual way for a wish to manifest." And not at all what I would have expected. "...still, it helped us out while we're in a bind. Thank you." (Maybe he should start being proactive with coming up with team attacks...?) "Anyhow, about these stamps you've been placing everywhere..."

Jose gladly took them, going into a conversation about how he could change the cognition of the Metaverse within Mementos in order to benefit them. (Which was...what. HOW.) "See, the collective unconscious of humanity has these 'pressure points' which can be targeted to cause all sorts of neat things...like, you have a new teammate, so you want to help her get stronger faster, right?"

"...that would be helpful, yes." An experience buff? Don't mind if we do!

"So in that case, all I have to do is take my hammer...and relieve the pressure!" With a playful thwack, he struck the ground; there was a slight burst of a light, and a strange rumbling that seeped into his bones. "There, that should do it!"

xxxx

The One Who Sat Upon the Throne had been observing this timeline with great interest.

Right now, it was merely a matter of waiting for their Pawn to get into position to make the proper play...that would not happen for months.

Yet, they were patient.

The...'changes'...to the order of events, relative to the last timeline, had not been too much of a concern: not on the macroscopic level.

After all, the inherent chaos and variability of humanity's choices would naturally tend to different outcomes.

But there had been a shift within the landscape of cognition itself. It was a manifestation of a new power.

"Curious. That should not be." Time to investigate. "Go forth, my servant."

xxxx

"...oh. I think I need to go home," remarked Jose with wide eyes.

"...go home?" Joker looked around, wondering why the boy got spooked. "But you've been here ever since..." Turning back around, his voice trailed off; the boy, his car, and the entire starry background was gone: only a dead end remained. "...huh?" What's happening?

"Hey Joker, where'd the kid go?!" exclaimed Skull. "I blinked, and he was gone!"

Joker shook his head, wondering where this trepidation was coming from. "I don't..."

Ka-clink.

Rattling chains.

Ka-clink.

...oh no, rattling chains! Oh, crap.

"Guys, we have to move! A strong power's approaching us!" exclaimed Mona.

"Pile in people, we have to move!" roared Joker, his voice filled with genuine panic.

"What's going on?!" asked Queen.

"No time to explain!"

The engines of Johanna and the Mona-Van growled as they turned around, returning to the junction they had turned from...

("WHAT THE EFF IS THAT THING?!" screamed Skull as he and Panther impulsively held onto each other.)

("Something wicked," darkly observed Fox.)

...and poured on the speed as the figure — a ghastly humanoid clad in a bloody, raggedy trench coat; bearing two revolvers with absurdly long barrels — known only as the Reaper turned to pursue them.

The fact that other Shadows were running away was sign enough that they were being pursued by something dreadful.

(Memories of the Reaper had...well, faded with time. Compared to everything else that had happened during that eventful year, the strange monstrosity hadn't really rated much. It had just been another monster in the Metaverse: a very powerful one, true...but nothing more.)

The numerous explosions — superpowered Skills of various elements — didn't help.

"HOW CLOSE ARE WE TO THE EXIT?!" howled Skull.

"I think we're coming close! Keep turning left!" yelled Mona.

"WHY IS THAT SHADOW CHASING US?!" screamed Panther.

"It keeps getting closer!" exclaimed Fox, staring out the back window at the impassive form of the Reaper.

"Stop yelling kids, Dad's trying to drive!" roared Joker, impulsively slipping back to a memory of a particularly rowdy road trip. "Escalator to the next floor, up ahead!" Leaning out the window, he yelled, "Queen, gun it!"

Queen obliged, angling Johanna so that she leapt off of the winding tracks and onto the facsimile of a station platform; by the time everyone else had poured out of the Mona-Van, she had grabbed Jose's stamp. "It's...still getting closer!" said Queen, staring behind them with wide eyes.

"THEN DON'T STOP RUNNIN'!" Skull roughly turned Queen around, keeping her oriented towards the escalator. "DOUBLE TIME!"

Joker gestured everyone to head downstairs, making sure he was the last one; the Reaper was about thirty meters away, and taking aim-!

Bang. "One-shot Kill." Bang. "Riot Gun."

"WHOA-GEEZ!" yelped Joker, impulsively diving for the stairs, using his shoulders and upper back to control his roll as a storm of bullets erupted on the station behind him. Ow, ow, damn it, crap, ow, shit, ow, OW! Joker sprawled out at the bottom, staring intently at the ceiling. "...ow." Whoever said youth is wasted on the young didn't know jack. "Sound off!"

"...it...seems like everyone made it..." Queen looked around with disbelief. "What was that thing?"

"It wasn't like any Shadow I've seen before," mumbled Panther.

"...a monster called the Reaper," said Mona, in the tone of someone who knew the importance of their words without knowing the 'how' or the 'why'. "I don't know what exactly that Shadow is a reflection of...but it's incredibly powerful."

"...ya know, compared to that thing, Futaba's Palace will probably be a cakewalk," grumbled Skull, hobbling over to pull Joker to his feet. "Do you think it's-"

Ka-clink.

"-gone...?" Skull turned towards the escalators.

Ka-clink.

The blond gulped. "Guys...it's still coming!"

"But Shadows haven't ever followed us between floors before!" Fox reached for his sword. "Do we stand and fight?"

"Nope, we're relying on desperate measures." Joker glanced at Mona. "You still have our escape ticket?"

"...oh. Right!" Mona reached into the pack on his waist. "Everyone, gather close!" He raised an orb high above his head. "Goho-M!"

xxxx

(The Reaper descended the escalator, glaring through the remnants of light and fog that had erupted at the bottom. Its targets were nowhere to be found.)

The One Who Sat Upon the Throne sighed.

"How irritating...but an expected tactic, at this stage."

Leaning back, they quietly observed the contours of the world.

"We will proceed accordingly. Continue your patrol...and find the source of that disturbance."

(The Reaper snorted, twitching madly before moving on: a cacophony of chains and metal signaling its departure...)

xxxx

At the top of Mementos, the Phantom Thieves sat about in a daze. "We...made it..." exhaled Panther.

"...do all of your excursions end that way?" wondered Queen.

"No. They don't." Joker sat up, grimacing. "...and we still had a couple more targets, too..."

Everyone looked at him with disbelief. "...come on dude, are you for real?" groaned Skull.

"Mementos itself is in flux, and the floors are never the same. So long as we keep on moving, we should be fine." From what I remember, the Reaper only showed up if we stayed in one floor for too long...as though it were trying to home in on our presence amidst the chaos of the collective unconsciousness. "Besides: we're the Phantom Thieves. We sent the calling cards...and we're not going to let down those who've sought our help. After all, we have to set an example for our newest member!"

It was a rational statement mixed with a bit of bravado...but, after recharging with a bit of junk food and some drinks, the others were ready and willing to continue on.

Fortunately, they didn't run into the Reaper again that day...

xxxx

Shortly after falling asleep that evening, Joker opened his eyes within the Velvet Room.

"And so you ran into a wretched beast," observed Yaldabaoth, staring at him with Igor's face. "An avatar of malice...hatred incarnate."

"Funny thing for you to mention," remarked Joker, quietly pacing in front of his cell. "Because I remember encountering the Reaper in my last life as well. What is it?" When the interloper didn't answer, Joker huffed. "I bet it's another one of your pawns."

At this, Fake Igor sneered. "You are quite the verbose and confident Trickster, to assume that such a thing came from me and mine. Nay; the Reaper is born from humanity...a very vicious part, but a part nonetheless."

"...hmm. I see. And this Reaper...why did it target us?"

"It is instinctively drawn to those with connections to the Velvet Room," explained the False Igor. "Although it will gladly strike at any who come across it...the Reaper has a deep-seated animus for this place and those who are bound to it..."

How curious. "...why?"

"That is beyond my capacity to share," said Yaldabaoth with intense eyes. "After all...you have not divined the truth of the Ruin which threatens to ensnare us all: why should you be gifted dangerous knowledge?"

"...you are spectacularly unhelpful," grumbled Joker, looking over at Caroline and Justine. With a shrug, he added, "Some Master, am I right?"

The two Wardens bristled, yet remained silent.

(And so another night passed...)

xxxx

The decision was made to spend a few days recuperating before making another attempt at Futaba's Palace...

xxxx

Day: June 22nd, 2016

I've been wondering why our Class Representative has been treating me like a plague. (Was the change in how the situation with Kamoshida unfolded really all it took to keep Mishima beyond our orbit? Akira wondered.)

Maybe he's jealous over how I backhanded Ushimaru-sensei's chalk...or maybe it's because it accidentally slammed into his desk? My bad.

Found out from my Blonde friend that she and her bestie had a talk about an interview about the stuff that happened at school. Hope it goes well. (Looks like Shiho ended up deciding to do it. Hope Ohya treats her well, Akira thought but didn't write.)

Anyhow, ended up selling a bunch of junk and stuff for some cash! Used it to buy a gift for the Student Council President. (Decided to get Makoto to upgrade her revolver; she ended up going with a model based on a New Nambu M60. Said it reminded her of the gun her father used to use. At least Iwai was more tolerant of her, Akira mused.)

(Also, thought for later: yakuza flicks. If you know, you know.)

xxxx

Day: June 23rd, 2016

Talked with Suzui after school; apparently, the interview went pretty well for her. She admitted that it was quite cathartic...but she's wondering if it'll change anything, or if it'll only make put up more obstacles in her path.

I wondered why; she almost seems to think that her own experiences don't compare with what others like Ann went through. (Dumb way to look at it, but that's the way she feels. Teenagers are always a work in progress...) Alas, I can only try to encourage her; I know Ann and Yoshizawa are.

Also ended up visiting Shinjuku, and spoke with a journalist about recent trends. (Ohya was really grateful for the interview with Suzui, Akira thought.)

She seemed rather interesting in talking about the Phantom Thieves; then again, it seems a lot of people are. But she's rather cynical, too. (Then again, given what she's been through, there's no surprise that she thinks the Thieves have an ulterior motive...but we'll prove her wrong.)

Cynicism: everyone's doing it. What a lame way to be a conformist.

xxxx

Day: June 24th, 2016

Went to hang out with Yusuke; he had some inspiration to finish a painting he'd been working on since our solo trip to Mementos: a dark and twisted vortex of black and red, representing his opinion of "Desire". He thinks it will help him get over his post-Madarame artist's block; hope it does well at an upcoming artist's exhibition.

I did offer some critique: why did 'desire' have to look so vicious? Were desires inherently such a dark part of the human psyche?

Food for thought, at least.

Decided to spend a bit of money to buy an old console from the local recycle shop; there's something therapeutic about taking something apart an old piece of equipment, tuning it up, and helping it work...

Tomorrow is another day.

xx

As Akira turned away from his probation journal, he got a sudden message.

Futaba: hey
Futaba: can we talk

Warning alarms went off in Akira's mind; the fact that she had communicated via her actual phone number instead of via Alibaba...?

Akira: let me find a quiet place

Akira glanced at Morgana, who was currently curled up on his bed; sneaking away with dexterous footsteps, he quietly exited Leblanc and shuffled over to the laundromat right across the street. At this time of night, it was empty; no machines were in use.

Akira: gonna call you

Dialing her number, he held up the phone to his ear, waiting for her to answer.

After several rings, she finally answered. "...hello?"

"Hey, Sakura-san. Or do you prefer Alibaba?"

"...you can call me Futaba. You...seem to be on a given name basis with the other Phantom Thieves..." she quietly whispered.

"Does that mean you see yourself as one of us already?"

"Well, given how much I've helped you all? I should hope that being your tech support would make me a part..."

(Just a bit of fire; it was time to kindle it.) Pacing back and forth, he answered, "Well, I'll call you Futaba if you call me Akira."

"...okay."

"So...what's up? It's kind of late, you know? You sure Sojiro won't get on you for staying up light?"

There was a quiet snort. "The old guy sleeps like a log, like all geezers do...but it feels weird, being loud about this sort of conversation."

"And this sort of conversation would be about...?" There were several seconds of silence; leaning against the wall, he asked, "You have a nightmare or something?" There was a hitch of breath. Bingo. "What about?"

"You don't wanna hear about lame stuff like that."

"Hey, I take pride in being lame when it makes strategic sense. Or if it's funny."

"Pfft. Self-deprecation doesn't fit a cocky guy like you."

Oh, if only you knew. Rolling his eyes, Akira remarked, "As a Subject Matter Expert on being a lame-o, I think I can judge if your nightmare is lame or not."

Futaba was silent...for a while. For a whole minute, in fact. "...so many people, screaming at me for being the reason that Mom died...because she was a genius, you know? The best part of her family. And...because it was my fault, they were so...angry..."

It's not your fault. (He knew that for a fact; however, why would she believe him?) "Sounds like they're a bunch of assholes."

"...they were. But they were right..."

"...we'll be making another attempt at your Palace tomorrow," he said, making a promise to her and herself. "We've levelled up, and we have another teammate: your heart will be changed before long. So just...endure. Please."

"...why are you all going so far for me? You don't even know me."

I know you so very much, dear Sister-from-another-Mister. (And another mother, technically.) "You asked us to help you. We're helping. That's the long and short of it."

"...okay, then."

"Take care, okay? You've got this. I believe in you. So believe in us." He had to make sure she knew.

"...I'll try." Then she hung up.

Akira stared at his phone, wondering if that had been enough to reassure her.

xxxx

(Futaba Sakura stared at her phone, using her other hand to blow her nose with a bit of tissue.)

(The last couple of nights...had been rough. And her mother's image was becoming so very clear...)

(She was so tired...so ready to give in...to just let it end...)

(But the Phantom Thieves were going to try again. So...she would also keep on trying...one day at a time...)

xxxx

/Saturday: June 25, 2016/

The decision was made to try and make it as far as possible through Futaba's Palace over that weekend.

Akira even made a brief detour to the Velvet Room in Shibuya before heading back to Leblanc after school

(With Nue and Makami being among the new Personas obtained during the last trip to Mementos, he'd had plenty of options available for fusions; Ame no Uzume and Matador given rise to Jikokuten; Fuu-Ki and Makami had fused into Thunderbird; Matador had been pulled out of the Compendium to fuse with High Pixie to make Oni; lastly, Nue and Andras had been combined to form Kin-Ki; with Arsène, Shiki-Ouji, and Arahabaki still left over, this gave him an arsenal of seven Personas.)

I have room for three more; I can collect them in Futaba's Palace.

When he made it to Yongen-Jaya, everyone was casually loitering around in different parts of the district; with a group message in the Thieves' chat, everyone meandered on towards Sojiro's house in a staggered formation. Makoto and Ann were the last to arrive. "We enjoyed some coffee at Leblanc," said Makoto. "He actually had a few customers still there when we left, so I don't think he'll be coming here anytime soon."

"Then that's our cue to enter the Palace." Akira held out his phone, making sure no one else was in their line of sight. "Ready?"

(Once more, into the breach...)

xxxx

It was to everyone's great fortune that, this time around, they had spawned closer to the core of Futaba's Palace: the Great Pyramid itself.

After all, not every outfit was conducive to the local climate.

"It's...so...hot," grumbled Queen, sagging against the wall the moment they entered the confines of the pyramid. Mona was quietly flinging off compact versions of his Garu Skill, proverbially fanning their newest member to cool them down.

"Need a water? Gotta keep hydrated!" said Skull.

As they waited for Queen to recuperate, Fox, Panther, and Joker were looking around further within. "So Joker, don't you get hot in that big heavy coat of yours?" asked Panther.

"You'd be surprised at how breathable it is," he lightly remarked. That, and the heat's not that big of a deal...not that I'm going to tell Makoto that. (After all, looking at someone's travails and blithely telling them "looks like a skill issue" was no way to enhance team cohesion.) "Anyhow...it doesn't look like Futaba's Shadow is here to greet us in person."

"After she nearly crushed us with a boulder, I can only imagine that she might be embarrassed by our presence," remarked Fox. "It is rather gauche to try and kill people you invite into your abode."

"...that's certainly one way of thinking about it," murmured Joker, looking around the interior with some level of uncertainty. There was a large gap in the floor that showed a great sand pit; beyond it was the great stairway leading to the top of Futaba's Pyramid, which was currently blocked by a few massive gates. "The question is...how should we proceed...?"

"You will need to obtain a certain item."

The trio whirled around, looking with alarm at where Futaba's Shadow had appeared. "Well hello there," remarked Joker.

"You...have returned," Futaba's Shadow remarked, staring intently at Joker. "And you have brought someone new," she added, staring over their shoulders towards the entrance: Skull, Mona, and Queen slowly entered the chamber, looking warily upon Futaba's Shadow.

"So...notwithstanding how our last meeting went, we're here to help you," solemnly said Joker. "Are you going to help us...or hinder us?"

Futaba's Shadow sighed heavily. "...you recall the bandits I spoke of? They have indeed plundered my tomb. One has made off with an item of great importance to me. If you could retrieve it from the town they fled to...then I will reward you accordingly."

"...what kind of reward?" wondered Mona.

"You will see...if you succeed." Futaba's Shadow turned towards Joker. "But only on the condition that you are the one who goes to retrieve it. You are not allowed any assistance."

...hmm. Even though his comrades began protesting her terms, Joker couldn't help but ponder what exactly she was angling for. Wanting to interrogate me in private? Fine: I'll bite. "I have a condition of my own: my fellow Thieves will conduct a 'bandit-extermination campaign' within your tomb. After all, they're a pain, aren't they? While my comrades are here, you might as well get them to take care of a bunch of trash mobs for free."

"Joker, what are you doing?" severely questioned Queen.

"Come on dude, why are you playing along with her?" yelled Skull.

Joker shrugged, doing his best to appear nonchalant. "I mean, Futaba's Shadow isn't exactly hostile in the conventional sense; not like Kamoshida's, Madarame's, or Kaneshiro's were. Might as well play along, you know?" Turning towards Mona, he said, "You and Queen will take tactical command while I'm running this errand. Play nice, cover each other's weaknesses, and use any supplies you need."

"...I don't like this," murmured Panther.

"You are certain?" wondered Fox.

Joker glanced back towards the entrance of the Pyramid. "Well...if anyone wants to join me in the scorching hot sun on a trek to the nearby town-"

Everyone swiftly acquiesced.

"Cool, glad we're on the same page!" Skull, Panther, Mona, Fox, and Queen: I have faith that they'll be able to deal with the Shadows while I'm out on a lark. "So..." Turning towards Futaba's Shadow, he said, "Lead the way."

xx

"...you know, maybe I should have had Mona come with me," mused Joker, staring at the large expanse of sand separating the town from the Pyramid. I don't remember the town being this far away...dadgummit.

"This is quite the dilemma for you," remarked Futaba's Shadow, hoving at a distance like some demented fairy companion from one of those classic dungeon-scrolling games. (Though, his standard for what was considered 'classic' was a bit skewed, considering...) "Your clothing is ill-suited for crossing the wastes."

"A fact that you obviously knew, you little troll," he retorted without any real heat.

"...hmm." She said nothing more, waiting for his next move.

Joker looked around before his eyes fell upon one of the two-wheel carts resting by a bunch of vases and jars near the Pyramid. Hmm...ooh, now there's an idea. "Well, when in Egypt," he remarked, making to summon a Persona.

xx

"...some would consider this cheating," observed Futaba's Shadow, watching as Joker's Persona — Oni, to be specific — hauled the cart from behind himself, using one meaty hand to keep a grip on the handle.

"Can't hear you, trying to keep the sun from cooking me alive," quipped Joker, holding an empty jar above his head to keep in the shade.

xx

Once they made it to the town, Joker couldn't help but notice the greater degree of activity compared to what he remembered: various cognitions moved about in a manner consistent with NPCs in a video game's hub world. Canned dialogue, strict pathfinding, mimicry of 'day-to-day life': it was all there. Hmm...it would be difficult finding the bandit through this mess.

Clearly, the grapple hook was the obvious solution!

Ascending to the top of a nearby building, Joker hopped from rooftop to rooftop, using his Third Eye to differentiate between Shadows and cognitions; it wasn't long before he found one that had a distinct aura about it. Skulking about the alleys of the town, the bandit was clear. "Now...how to do this..."

(All the while, Futaba's Shadow watched quietly from above.)

xx

In the end, Joker decided to play along, to an extent; after memorizing the paths that the bandit went on, Joker hid within one of the less cluttered alleyways. (He summoned a Persona in advance...and waited to make his move.)

Once the bandit made its approach, Joker calmly stepped out of his alcove, looking at the Shadow with a placid and inoffensive stare. "So...I hear that you've got some plunder..."

"Oh? A fellow trader, eh?" The bandit chuckled, sensing the opportunity for a deal. "You look like the fellow who went into the Pharaoh's Tomb; got anything worth trading for?"

"I've got a couple of items: a grappling hook, ancient pottery, some bits and bobs...I think we can come to a fair arrangement, don't you think?"

The bandit, keeping a loose hand on his scimitar, slowly approached. "No funny business, now..."

Joker smiled. "Honestly, I'm not that funny..."

Without warning, Shiki-Ouji — having flattened its paper-like body to the point where it could hide underneath a coating of sand and dust — arose from behind the bandit, taking aim with its hands.

The bandit whirled around, preparing to transform into a monstrous Shadow-!

Bang, went Joker's pistol.

Bang-bang, went Shiki-Ouji's Double Shot.

Without hesitation, without mercy, Joker and his Persona gunned down the bandit, rendering him into a flickering mass of harmless thoughtstuff. In its wake was a rolled-up paper, tied by golden twine: a papyrus fragment, stolen from the Pyramid. "...and despite my title, I'm not much of a comedian," said Joker, finishing his quip.

"...how curious."

Joker turned around, looking at Futaba's Shadow. "In what way?"

"...you are a mystery to me," the Palace Ruler admitted, staring at him with those unnerving yellow eyes. "Despite the manner in which the Phantom Thieves conduct themselves, you are also capable of acting in a less than heroic manner...almost like an underhanded rogue."

"Well, I do have a criminal record," he snarked.

"Yet the way in which you look after your comrades is not akin to a yakuza patriarch looking out for his underlings; there is a strange familial attachment that I can see in how you relate to them. Paternal, in a way. You look at them as Sojiro Sakura looks at me." She tilted her head, ever so slightly. "Yet you have only known them for a matter of months, if that; the newcomer, Makoto Niijima, was someone you all considered an antagonist. Yet you went out of your way to assist her, well before you could have possibly known she would make a suitable party member..." Her lips curled, morphing her expression from stoic to stern. "And I have not forgotten the fact that you are aware of cognitive psience. So tell me, Manipulator: what sort of game are you playing?"

...well then. "Way to put the guy on the spot," grumbled Joker, dismissing Shiki-Ouji with a thought.

"I will have a definitive answer."

This was certainly a bit of a pickle. How much can I actually tell her? What would she buy? The vagueness of the "Ruin" and its threat still lingered in the back of his mind; was Yaldabaoth's warning about saying too much a genuine threat? Or had it been yet another mind game to induce paranoia? She knows that I know about cognitive psience; how in the world can I explain it to her that will actually get it across without being too...obvious...oh. Oh. In the end, it was almost insultingly simple. The fact that Futaba Sakura was more media-aware than the other Phantom Thieves is what gave him confidence. "...okay. I've got an answer for you. An answer that will explain my knowledge and give you context as to my whole situation...and in only three words."

"...curious. Then tell me, Joker of the Phantom Thieves."

(To win big, you have to play big.)

Stepping forward with hands in his pockets, Joker leaned down towards the side of the Shadow's face, and whispered into Futaba's ear. "...New Game Plus."

xxxx

/Meanwhile, back in the present timeline/

Misato Katsuragi stood up, looking at Ren Amamiya with concern. "So...you actually told Futaba Maruki about the fact you had lived through that life before?"

"Sakura," insisted Ren. "And not in such a blatant way. I merely told her a phrase that would allow her to draw the connections herself; I mean, I didn't know the true nature of our enemy back then...or the true nature of the world..."

"...so, what happened next?" wondered Ryuji Sakamoto, his fingers quietly drumming along the head of his gun-cane.

Ren sighed, casting his mind back to events long past. "...well, I'd like to say she instantly believed me, but..."

xxxx

/Back to the prior timeline.../

New Game Plus.

A word that any gamer worth their salt would understand. A key to unlocking a door that led to a hallway of many other doors: context provided to knowledge, yet lacking all details.

The way Futaba's Shadow stared at him—yellow eyes wide with shock, disbelief, and epiphanies—was strangely fascinating to behold. "I...see."

Joker quietly stepped back, giving the Palace Ruler some space. "Anyhow..." He held out the papyrus fragment, which was a map of the Pyramid's innards: a means of accessing the entirety of the Pharaoh's Tomb. "I believe this is yours."

Futaba's Shadow stared at the prize. "So it is."

(Little did Joker know, but that action shifted Futaba's cognition ever so slightly; the other Phantom Thieves, who had been busy clearing out various Shadows, looked around with alarm at a nearby door which had unlocked. Thus did they delve deeper into the Palace's core..)

"...so, what now?" wondered Joker. Make or break moment. Futaba's Shadow's eyes were blank slates; he couldn't divine what exactly was going on behind those yellow lights. "Hopefully...something good?"

"That...is yet to be decided. For now...there is still the weight of my sin to contend with."

At that moment, a massive cry echoed out through the sky. Joker whirled around, watching as the town's cognitions panicked and fled into the buildings. "What the-?"

"Mother's Wrath is here," solemnly said Futaba's Shadow, her form fading away. "If you survive, I'll see you at my tomb..."

The cry suddenly took on form, and intelligibility: "FUUUTAAABAAA!"

Oh great, it's the Sphinx, thought Joker with a grimace; the ground beneath his feet rumbled, and an immense dust cloud rushed through the contours of the town. With quick use of his grappling hook, he shot up to the rooftop, getting an instant view of Wakaba Isshiki's cognition: the Sphinx had crashed onto the town, sweeping aside buildings with an almost petulant ease. Well, that's not good. The Sphinx, sniffing at the air, turned towards his direction. Uh...do Sphinxes have a good sense of smell...?

"YOOOUUU DOOON'T BELOOONG!" screeched the Sphinx, flapping her wings with vicious intent. "A CUUURSEEE UPON YOUR HOOOUUUSE!"

"And I completely forgot how loud you were," grumbled Joker, quickly looking to make his escape-

"DIIIEEE!" howled the Sphinx, leaping forward to crush him beneath her paws.

-and he quickly defaulted to winging it, because holy crap why did something so big have such speed?! "THUNDERBIRD!"

The building that Joker sat upon was pulverized into dust; a thick cloud of rubble, ash, and sand scattered into the sky...and out of it stormed Joker, sailing upon the back of Thunderbird as though it were a hoverboard.

It's just like a skateboard. Your Persona won't let you fall. Easy. Simple. Joker gave himself these assurances over and over in his mind, seeking to root himself to Thunderbird's back. Yeah...I can work with this.

"NO ONE SHALL ENTER THE PHARAOH'S TOMB!" snarled the Sphinx, her massive form taking to the sky; it was akin to a rampaging elephant seeking to stomp out a rabbit, so great was the size disparity.

Joker couldn't help but grin as he brandished his pistol. "Just like a shoot 'em up...it'll be good practice for when I next visit Shinya," he said, pumping himself up with enough confidence to face down the Sphinx on his own...or, at the very least, conduct a fighting retreat. "Catch me, if you can!"

xx

The sky was surprisingly calm.

Given that this was Futaba's Palace — a girl who shunned the outside, who was stuck and unmoving (in more ways than one), and embodied the consequences of deadly sloth — perhaps that was nothing to be shocked at. Standing upon the back of Thunderbird, soaring through the air came with little turbulence and physical mayhem like one would expect in reality.

It certainly made shooting at the Sphinx easy enough; every movement mentally mapped to the expectations of a shooter game, allowing Joker to dodge the Sphinx as well...to an extent.

(He just needed to make it to the Pharaoh's Tomb...!)

"YOOOUUU ARE NOOOT WELCOOOMMMEEE!" shrieked the Sphinx, swiping for him with her paw.

Darn it Futaba, why does your cognition of your mother have to be so loud?! "Ziodyne!" A great bolt of crackling lightning arced through the sky, striking the Sphinx in the side.

Snarling, the beast reared her wings, unleashing a torrential blast of wind; cyclones roared across the desert, surrounding Joker and his Persona.

"Aw shit-!" he hissed, before his voice was lost amidst the winds.

xxxx

(Meanwhile, within the Tomb...the Phantom Thieves had found the red Will Seed. The quiet echoes of Futaba's cries were...unnerving.)

(When Mona took hold of the strange seed, everyone grimaced at the impressions which came: a younger girl, with hair not yet dyed orange; quietly following her mother amidst a large government building; watching with pride as her mother threw herself into her research, even as loneliness took hold.)

("She...really seemed to care about her mother," murmured Panther. "But I don't get the sense that her mother hated her...")

(They moved on, leaving the Chamber of Rejection...only to find the jigsaw portrait of hawk-headed men in black, reading out a suicide note to Futaba Sakura. The words were...unsettling: "I should have never had Futaba...she was always such a bother...")

("...how did we go from that last memory to this...?" wondered Fox, frowning at how casually the men spoke of a 'maternity neurosis'.)

("We can only find out by going deeper," mused Queen, as a gate deeper within the Great Corridor opened up.)

(Mona—staring quietly at a small part of the hieroglyphic mural, bearing the image of a UFO with tentacles—shook off the strange feeling of nostalgia before moving on with the others.)

xxxx

Joker felt the world spin out of control, even as he righted Thunderbird and shot above the cyclones. Too...dizzy...! The roar of the Sphinx echoed out from behind him, and the winged beast soared high above. Her form blocked the sun, casting him in shadow. "...you're a stubborn one..."

The Sphinx snarled, rocketing downward at high speed-!

"...need to turn it around...ARAHABAKI!" Thunderbird vanished, transforming into the humanoid doll; Joker desperately clung onto the Persona's back, hoping beyond hope that its attributes would kick in-!

BOOM.

The Sphinx shrieked as her downward momentum reflected back upon herself, sending her careening backward through the sky. Conservation of momentum was utterly violated as Arahabaki — instead of shooting downward from the sheer force of the Sphinx's impact — harmlessly began to fall.

Joker sighed, watching the Sphinx try to right herself from afar. "That was close. Thunderbird!" With the metallic bird-jet-spirit once more beneath his feet, Joker quickly made his way to the Pharaoh's Tomb while he had precious moments to spare.

xx

Upon entering the Pyramid, Joker leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. "That...was pretty reckless..." You're only as effective as your support system; you can't afford to be too cocky. Silently grabbing an energy bar from within his coat, he mindlessly chewed, feeling the rejuvenating effects in body and mind. "...just...stay focused, and stay cool." I need to reunite with the others.

As Joker walked further downward, his eyes fell upon the form of Futaba's Shadow, waiting in the middle of the chamber. "...you are very slippery, Joker of the Phantom Thieves."

"If I wasn't, I'd probably be dead," he quipped. "So...what are your thoughts about what I said?"

"...you like to press for definitive answers," remarked Futaba's Shadow. "But certainty? Certitude? Those are precious...and not given lightly...how can I be sure?" Glancing over her shoulder, she remarked, "Your allies have been performing admirably."

Good, so they're still in one piece. "I mean, it's not like the Phantom Thieves are 'me, myself, and I'. We're a team."

"...hmm." Futaba's Shadow was surprisingly unnerving when she was quiet. After several seconds, she said, "...I see. This will be another test."

Before Joker could say another word, she faded; the floor beneath him fell away, and it was with growing alarm that he realized he had fallen into quicksand. Oh, COME ON!

After an interminable amount of time — no more than a minute or two at most, stretched into unknown eternity by the panic of his desperate struggle — Joker flopped over the stone siding, sagging onto the ground. Gasping for air, he stared flatly at the ceiling. "...you...are a real pain in the ass, Futaba..." Alas, he had to keep moving.

(After all, you only stop moving once you're dead...)

Joker quietly moved through the Underground Cavern, sneaking up on Shadows and ambushing them when the opportunity arose. As a result, he managed to get Isis, Thoth, and Anubis added to his current 'party', rounding his cognitive arsenal out nicely.

After using his grapple hook to skip past a complicated room filled with platforms — Did the Palace have this many jumping puzzles the Last Time Around™? I can't remember. — Joker came face-to-face with Futaba's Shadow. "Enjoying the show?"

"...a 'show', you say?"

"Well, you're certainly interested in watching me," he retorted.

Futaba's Shadow said nothing before vanishing again.

"...fine," he grumbled, slowly soldiering onward.

xxxx

(The green Will Seed within the Chamber of Guilt had disclosed an image truly disturbing, if only because of the lack of context: Futaba and her mother, walking down a city sidewalk; Futaba's mother, suddenly going still; Wakaba, suddenly stepping toward the road...and then it ended there.)

("...is it just me, or was strange black goo comin' out of her mom's eyes?" wondered Skull.)

("That...is a sign of a certain phenomenon..." murmured Queen, thinking back to old reports she had read: case files that her older sister had left out, containing rather gruesome pictures of those who had suffered mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns. "...we should keep moving.")

("But...what happened after the memory ended...?" wondered Panther, sounding gravely disturbed.)

(It was only after leaving that room, and making their way to the next mural puzzle, that the answer became clear: Futaba, kneeling down with hands covering a tearful face; Wakaba, leaping towards the front of a black car, her face the picture of mania.)

(Panther fell to her knees, struck dumb by the sight. "...that's...awful," she muttered, as Skull and Mona tended to her.)

("The moment her mother committed suicide...right in front of her eyes," stoically said Fox, even as the distorted rage of Wakaba's voice echoed from somewhere distant. "Did her guilt cause her to repress these memories...?")

(Alas, there was no time to wonder; a new gate within the Great Corridor had been unlocked. Thus did they continue on.)

xxxx

"That...took way longer than I remembered," groused Joker as he emerged into the open air from the Underground Corridor. "The Palace has definitely changed from what I remember..."

(Alternatively, Futaba's Other Self was intentionally throwing trials in his way to test him.)

Glancing up at the sky, he could see the distant form of the Sphinx on patrol; quickly booking it to the Pyramid, Joker briefly paused to cool down. "...really hope everyone's doing well..."

"They are proceeding to the final mural."

Joker glanced towards the bottom of the Great Corridor's stairs, where Futaba's Shadow was waiting for him. "Is that so?" Good.

"When faced with my sin, how will they perceive me?" she wondered. "It matters not; my fate is all but assured. Yet I will see you tested...to put to rest any doubts."

"...well...here I am." With a flourish of his hands, he said, "Test me."

Futaba's Shadow vanished; in the next instant, numerous Shadows manifested on the stairs behind her.

"...ah. A bunch of mobs," he grumbled, putting up his dukes with Shiki-Ouji behind him. "But is it a melee of mooks, or a Boss Rush? Only...one way to find out!" Empowered by Shiki-Ouji's traits — blocking physical skills, along with Bless and Curse (as compared to Arahabaki, who merely resisted the latter two) — Joker delved into the fray with dagger in hand, slashing and punching without relent.

xxxx

(The Shadow guarding the final Will Seed — a floating obelisk with a stylized inscription of a woman upon its sides, identified only as Alilat by Mona — had been difficult. However, it had been weak to Panther's Fire Skills, and Queen's judicious use of Makajama had enabled them to minimize the guardian's stronger attacks...at least, long enough for them to whittle it down.)

("...I hope we're near the end," whispered Fox, gripping at his wrists. "I am...quite famished." A packet of peanuts was tossed his way by Mona. "Ah. You are quite the silent savior.")

(The blue Will Seed revealed an entirely different impression: it was after the suicide note had been read aloud in front of not only Futaba, but also the other members of Wakaba Isshiki's family. Despite her oddities and unorthodox career field, Wakaba had been a respectable adult with a lab that had many ties to the government. So for such a promising woman to have cut her own life short, and all because of a 'no-good bastard child'? Oh...oh, the things that those relatives said to Futaba, a girl still in middle school...!)

(As the memory faded away, Skull's teeth were audibly grinding. "Those rotten assholes...")

(Queen observed the fire in Panther's eyes; stamping down on her own righteous fury, she and Mona willed everyone to move on.)

(Facing the final mural — an image of a young Futaba, tugging at her mother's shirt — they could only wonder just where the truth ended and the delusions began. "This voice...doesn't her anger sound strangely forced?" wondered Fox.)

("...did her mother really love her?" asked Panther with a wistful tone.)

("These murals are a part of Futaba's cognition; given the distortion in her heart, it wouldn't surprise me if the memories depicted by these murals are also distorted," explained Mona. "It's not like the memories from the Will Seeds: even if these murals depict what Futaba remembers, it may not be what actually happened.")

("...I guess we'll find out soon enough, one way or another," admitted Queen. As another gate prepared to open up, she asked, "So...is it normal for Joker to be gone this long...?")

xxxx

Futaba's Shadow stared down at Joker's form: slumped over, panting heavily, and utterly exhausted. "Desperation is quite the motivator."

"Oh, piss off," growled Joker, well and truly tired of being given the runaround. "The only reason you're testing me is because you're trying to figure out if my claim is reliable or not. Putting me through the proverbial meat grinder isn't going to help you do that."

"A fair point," conceded Futaba's Shadow. "I was stalling for time...but now, your comrades have unlocked the final mural." Further up ahead, the finally gate blocking the path to the top of the stairs was opened. "And so I will give you my test."

"...okay, lay it on me," he said, idly reaching for the supplies in his coat. Already used all of my snacks. Blast it...oh, wait, I think there's another can of Dr. Salt NEO in here...

"The contents of the three murals: your teammates have witnessed them. They have also been unable to contact you...nor you, them." With a stern expression, she asked, "So tell me, Joker of the Phantom Thieves: what do the three murals depict?"

Joker flubbed opening the can of soda, wincing as a jet of pressurized liquid splashed onto his face. "Oh, for the love of-!" You couldn't have waited until AFTER I had taken a sip!?

Futaba's Shadow did not care for his unfortunate accident. "Time is of the essence. Your comrades will soon re-enter this corridor; I demand an answer."

"...way to put a guy on the spot." Even though his memories of this Palace had returned with each and every minute, some of the particulars had faded with the passage of time: specific layouts, certain enemies, and so on; there were enough things that had definitely changed that he was partially concerned that even the murals might have changed. There's no guarantee that things have stayed the same in all instances. He had already learned that the hard way.

"You are gripped by indecision," observed Futaba's Shadow.

"Yeah, well...it's been a long time for me," he remarked, trying to find something to jog his memory. (Futaba had gotten past her trauma years ago, so the specifics of how they had changed her heart naturally faded with time: becoming the subject of old tales over dinner, left to the whims of exaggeration and faulty recollections...)

Then, it hit.

xxxx

A long time ago, during the Last Time Around™, Yusuke Kitagawa had been in a bit of a tizzy regarding how to propose to one Futaba Sakura; so much so, that he had sought out the advice of old friends.

When he had presented his ideas to Akira, the first impulse had been...concern. "You really think this is actually a good idea?" Akira asked, looking around Yusuke's art studio with a practiced eye.

"I'm not so daft as to just make adjustments to the originals," retorted Yusuke, looking at a canvas which held picture-perfect replicas of the murals from Futaba's Palace: painstakingly sketched and recreated with pencils using naught but his own memory for reference. "But it would be a disservice to just pretend the past didn't happen; how can I draw the future I wish to show her if I do not have a starting point?"

Akira glanced over at the various practice sketches littering the floor. They depicted Yusuke's attempts at drawing murals of his own design in the artstyle of Futaba's Palace: each one invariably featured Yusuke proposing in some way, shape, form, or fashion. "...you really want this to go right, don't you?"

"...I am not deaf to the way my critics speak of the way I see the world," muttered the artist, staring intently at the image of Futaba tugging on Wakaba's shirt. "Yet for all that you, Haru, Ryuji, Makoto, Ann, and Morgana have been a great boon in silencing their barbs...I find myself unable to care when I am with Futaba. Even if my hands and fingers were to be pierced a thousand times over by the most vicious of critiques, I think I would be staring too intently at her expressions to pay much attention."

"Well, she IS very expressive," agreed Akira.

"Indeed."

"...man, sometimes I forget how much of a sap you can be," Akira said with a grin, looking at the second mural — of Wakaba throwing herself at a car, with Futaba weeping on the sidewalk — and marvelling at how far they had all come.

Yusuke's wit, alas, had not been disarmed. "I believe I learned a great deal by observing you and your lovely bride."

"Fair enough..." Glancing at the first mural—three bird-headed men in black suits, reading aloud a fake suicide note to Futaba—he added, "I don't think you need to overcomplicate it. Her brain already operates at a level beyond us mortal ken as it is; just be honest."

Yusuke, alas, sagged to the floor. "...but how can honesty be enough when I have so much about her that I could say...?!"

It would take a while for Akira to get the artist out of his doldrums...

xxxx

...well, Yusuke being 'Yusuke' when it comes to romance might have saved my bacon. "...given that my memory isn't perfect...and given that things might have changed between now and then...this is how I remember the three murals." And so Akira described the three murals with as much detail as he could recall.

Futaba's Shadow said nothing.

Then she vanished from sight.

...I have no idea if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Akira could only wait and see, as he trudged up the stairs.

After a few minutes of walking, he finally saw the others, standing in front of the Palace's cognitive double of the door to Futaba's room. "Yo."

The Phantom Thieves all whirled around, looking at his condition with some measure of alarm. "Dude, we were starting to get worried!" yelled Skull. "What took you so long?!"

"Among other things? Got into a dogfight with a giant Sphinx in the sky."

"...that sounds ridiculous, but I also don't think you're lying," remarked Queen.

"You'll come to realize that the bizarre and the unusual tend to follow our Leader in his wake," observed Fox.

Mona huffed. "Well, we had to go through the entire Palace without you. You better not have slacked off!"

Joker gestured at himself. "Do I look like I've been lazy?" Walking over towards the door, he asked, "So...a dead end? A gate without a switch?"

"We've been looking, but there's not another door that leads to another part of the Palace," remarked Panther, looking at caution tape and 'Private: Do Not Enter' sign plastered over the sci-fi gateway. "...Joker, we saw a lot of Futaba's memories in here...she's-"

Joker held up a hand. "It sounds like it was pretty rough; you can all fill me in later," he softly said. "Anyhow...I've been in Sojiro's house in reality, and these markings match what's on Futaba's actual door."

Mona, naturally, immediately drew the connection between the doors and Futaba's cognition. And that's when the Palace Ruler made her presence known: not physically, but merely through an echoing voice. "The Pharaoh's Chamber lies beyond; if you wish to enter, you must be invited in by she who has authority. I...do not possess that authority. So your success relies on convincing Futaba Sakura to let you into her most guarded sanctuary." After a few seconds of silence, the Shadow ended with, "Perhaps...you have what it takes to do it..."

"...she sounded so tired," murmured Panther.

"But I detected a semblance of hope," observed Fox. "Perhaps she sees the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel."

Joker sighed, rubbing at his neck with a grimace. "Only one way to find out." They had practically secured their infiltration route. Next up: giving her the Calling Card. Just wait a little longer, Futaba...

xxxx

It was rather late into the evening when the Phantom Thieves emerged outside of Sojiro's house.

So late, in fact, that there was a legitimate concern about them being able to make it to the trains before they shut down for the evening.

"...no need to panic. We'll all just bunk in the attic at Leblanc," said Akira, motioning them away from the house and towards the quiet walkways of Yongen-Jaya; although the sounds of Tokyo were still bustling from afar, the little district seemed to have turned in. "If you've got people checking in, tell them that the day got away from you while hanging out with classmates, or with friends, and you decided to sleepover. We'll corroborate as needed, but stay light on details." Looking at his own phone, Akira noted that he'd received a few messages from Futaba during the last several hours, and only one from Sojiro.

Sojiro: I'm locking up for the night. Let me know when you get back.

Small mercies that we didn't run into Boss, mused Akira as he unlocked the cafe and ushered everyone in. Ann, Makoto, and Ryuji were already on their phones, seeking to leave messages with their respective guardians who would be none too pleased about the lack of timely feedback. Idly texting a quick message to Sojiro — Back at the cafe. Hung out with some friends, time got away from us. — he turned to the messages from Futaba, which were all minutes or even hours apart.

ALIBABA: My heart hurts.
ALIBABA: My head feels weird.
ALIBABA: what are you doing
ALIBABA: I know you're doing something
ALIBABA: who are you, Akira Kurusu?
ALIBABA: who are you?
ALIBABA: I can't stop crying
ALIBABA: I hate this

Akira grimaced, trying to avoid the sensation of paranoia in favor of poignant melancholy. "She's trying real hard," murmured Morgana, looking at his phone screen with a frown. "...it feels odd, having to think of what kind of calling card we'll need to send her..."

"No kidding," murmured Akira, rising up from a booth. "I'll make some curry for everyone; I'm sure you're all starving."

"Ooh, homemade curry!" exclaimed Ann.

"...I'm quivering with anticipation," murmured Yusuke, slumping over the bar.

Makoto, still absorbing how Leblanc looked at night compared to the day, asked, "Do...you need help preparing anything?"

Akira opened his mouth to answer in the negative...only to realize that he felt tired. "...sure. You can help prep the materials while I get the pan and pot going." Need to remember to buy some groceries for Sojiro first thing in the morning. As he gave Makoto precise directions in what to cut and measure, he advised the others to try and rearrange the cushions, blankets, and sheets upstairs to set up an ad hoc futon. Memo to myself: invest in future sleepover supplies.

With ingredients ready, Makoto watched Akira prepare the roux while she rubbed the beef cubes with salt and black pepper; once the beef was simmering in water and red wine, he prepped the pot containing all of the other stir-fry ingredients: onions, apples, carrots, garlic, ginger. In went the roux, stirred among the vegetables until the curry sauce thickened. In went the meat and some of the simmering liquid. Then Akira began throwing in other ingredients at various amounts: chocolate, instant coffee granules, Worcestershire, honey, beef bouillon, coconut milk (not yogurt; he had become fond of coconut milk's taste in his older years, the Last Time Around™) and black pepper. He quietly tasted the curry at various points, salting to taste. "...you seem very experienced," Makoto observed.

This stuff is like secondhand to me, he thought but didn't say. "Well, for as much as Sojiro has me working behind the counter, I see a lot. I'm sure he'd probably tell me I'm doing it wrong," he said with a shrug. "Now...to let it simmer for several hours."

"...then how are we going to eat it?" she honestly wondered.

"By heating up the leftover curry already in the fridge," Akira quipped, sporting a Joker-esque roguish grin. "But if I'm going to dig into the Boss's own curry, I have to at least have some prepped to replace it. It's only good manners."

Makoto pouted. "You're incorrigible."

While setting his own curry to simmer at low heat, he quickly set about heating up some of Sojiro's own curry for everyone to eat. He then quickly prepared some cups of coffee, preparing them according to the desires of everyone present. "You know, I wonder whose drink is sweeter: Ryuji's or Ann's..."

"Hey!" protested Ryuji, even as Ann happily sipped her own concoction.

It was an act that seemed rather laborious, given the late hour and the exhaustion due to going through the Palace. However, watching the others enjoy his hospitality — even as they shared details regarding their foray through the distorted expanse of Futaba's heart — he couldn't help but feel...content. Serving customers...no, serving friends. (There were still quite a few faces missing from this group.)

His phone buzzed.

ALIBABA: I've watched you move about the cafe.
ALIBABA: You seem well practiced.

...I wonder if she's getting any impressions from her Shadow? Something to ponder for later.

Akira: I saw your messages earlier.
Akira: We're almost at the end.
Akira: All that's left is to give you the Calling Card.

("He's texting Futaba," whispered Morgana, grabbing everyone's attention.)

ALIBABA: ...
ALIBABA: ...how will such a thing be done? Will you be e-mailing it to me?
Akira: We need you to open your door to us.
Akira: Your Palace has a ward keeping us from proceeding.
Akira: So...you might want to prepare yourself for a visit soon.
ALIBABA: What?
Akira: Just one more hurdle.
ALIBABA: ...fine.

"...how is she?" wondered Ann.

"...she's managing," replied Akira, leaning onto the bartop (and trying hard not to sag, because having Futaba be like this was so very vexing) with a sigh. "...curry and coffee's going to get cold."

And so they finished a very late supper.

xx

It had started raining during dinner, lending a melancholy mood to the attic.

With Ryuji on the couch, Makoto and Ann sharing a bare mattress ("I still can't believe your bed frame is composed of plastic crates," Niijima had remarked with a shake of her head), and Akira and Yusuke using the blankets and sheets on the wooden floor (a truly pitiable imitation of a futon), The one saving grace was that the heat of Tokyo — already on the rise with the recent start of summer — made going without any kind of cover bearable, at least to some extent.

Morgana, looking wistfully over at the bed, nonetheless settled on the top of the couch, resting his head on the backrest's cushion. "...we managed to make it pretty far, at least..."

Akira, thinking about his probation journal, warred with the desire to get up and jot something down. I'll do it in the morning. "...think we can shoot for delivering the Calling Card tomorrow?"

"...Futaba's struggling, isn't she?" wondered Ann, guessing at the context of her messages to him. "...I wonder if Kamoshida or Madarame felt anything similar, when we were going through their Palaces...?"

Ryuji's snort was audible against the rain dropping against the rooftop. "Not likely; their distorted desires, or whatever...were way different. I mean, Futaba asked us to change her heart. Would Madarame or Kamoshida ever wanted to change if we didn't do anything...?"

"...it's strange, realizing the sort of power you have." There was an odd shiver in Makoto's voice: whether it was due to lack of a blanket or her own trepidation was uncertain. "Harrowing, even."

"But you're the one who sought us out," called out Morgana.

"He's got a point." Ryuji shuffled on the couch, resting on his elbow to stare over at the mattress. "You went through all that trouble to try and 'verify our justice', right? You getting cold feet?"

Makoto sat up, looking incensed at the accusation. "That's not what I'm getting at. Seeing the inside of a Palace...seeing what troubles Futaba deep down..." Her silhouette shifted, as her eyes went downcast. "It's...an intimidating power, that we have. Do we even understand how this app even works...or where it came from...?"

...fair questions, admitted Akira. Probably wouldn't be a fan of the fact that it comes from the 'God of Control'. "Maybe it's something we could have Futaba look into once we change her heart," he remarked. "She's quite the tech wiz, after all."

"...it is strange, for someone so young to be so gifted with computers," agreed Makoto.

Yusuke, who had been silent thus far, finally spoke. "It's almost a shame, that removing her distortions will result in her Palace collapsing. It's...quite a marvel." Holding up his hand — holding an imaginary brush, stroking paint onto a canvas — he murmured, "The pain she's endured...only makes her heart more beautiful: as an ice sculpture requires the strike of sharpened steel to take form..."

There was a moment of contemplation, before Ann spoke aloud. "Losing her mother...to leave so much unsaid...and to think it's all your fault..." With impassioned fire, she said, "Let's send the Calling Card tomorrow."

"...we won't have to do anything big like we did with Madarame, do we?" wondered Ryuji.

Morgana huffed. "Don't be silly; Futaba's not a famous artist, she's just a kid!"

"Madarame was all about spectacle, befitting the gaudiness of his heart's museum," said Yusuke, briefly glancing towards his framed painting of 'Old Man Akira'. "Something far smaller and more intimate should suffice."

"...we'll need to convince her to open up the door to her bedroom anyhow," remarked Akira, already thinking about how tomorrow would pan out. "We should probably freshen up at our own places tomorrow before meeting back up at Boss's house...around noon." And I'd like to talk with Futaba before we fully commit to stealing her Treasure...if there's a chance to actually have her meet her own Shadow like last time...

"...do you think we could dream about what we'd put on a Calling Card?" asked Makoto.

"Already on it," stoically said Yusuke, promptly closing his eyes. Moments later, he was snoring.

"...man, for how weird he can be, I really envy the guy sometimes," grumbled Ryuji, tiredly flipping over on the couch to try and sleep.

Thus did the Phantom Thieves turn over to try and sleep...

xxxx

(Futaba had been listening through her bugs; despite how emotionally crazy the past day had been, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly the inside of her heart was like.)

(What had they seen, in the depths of her cognition?)

(If only there was a way of finding out...)

xxxx

Day: June 25th, 2016

Spent a grand day with friends. Got a lot of interesting history lessons about Egypt.

I hope we can get the Boss's daughter to join us.

xx

/Sunday: June 26, 2016/

Akira quietly closed his probation journal, tip-toeing around so as to not wake up the others...save for Yusuke, who was quietly framing the mattress — where Ann and Makoto had (unknowingly) cuddled up while sleeping — between his hands. "A Queen and a Panther," the artist quietly mused, trying to portray a new work in his head. "Two Amazons, embracing before battle...or perhaps it is Aphrodite seeking to convince Athena that she deserves the Golden Apple...but who would be Hera, and who would be Paris? And what of Helen...?"

...yeah, I'm just going to wait for the inevitable blow-up, tiredly mused Akira, silently heading downstairs...where, lo and behold, Sojiro Sakura was staring intently at the pot of curry that had been simmering overnight. "Morning, Boss."

Sojiro gruffly looked at him. "I notice that some of the curry I'd prepped was gone."

"It was too late for my friends to make it to the trains, so I just told them to spend the night upstairs," he said, gesturing at the ceiling. "I made them coffee and served them some of your curry, but I figured it would only be polite to replace it."

"I haven't actually taught you how to make my curry," he observed with a raised eyebrow.

Akira shrugged nonchalantly, sliding into a booth. "I've been watching what you do. And it's not like I can't reference a recipe online."

Sojiro's expression was utterly revolting in its disgust. "An online recipe," he dryly grumbled. He quietly took a tentative sip from the pot; though his expression remained stern, he didn't immediately object to it. "...the flavor profile's different. What did you use?" As Akira listed ingredients, the use of coconut milk elicited a sigh from the restaurateur. "That explains it. You have to use yogurt. The acidity provides a better balance against the spice; the coconut milk has a much richer taste that doesn't sit as well with the apples, honey, and chocolate by comparison." Taking another contemplative taste, he added, "But...it's not bad, for your first attempt. You just need some teaching."

Of course, Akira thought with a hidden smile.

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Sojiro muttered, "Maybe I can put this up as a daily special with smaller portions..." Looking back at Akira, he fished out some yen and handed the notes over. "Go buy replacement ingredients for the stuff you used."

"Can do," said Akira, mentally vowing to place the money in Sojiro's house when he snuck over there later (because he could afford to buy the stuff himself, thank you very much).

Less than ten minutes later, Akira returned from the market, only to see a rather unusual sight: Yusuke keeled over the bar with hands on his stomach, Ann holding her face in her hands, Makoto profusely apologizing to Sojiro for some "ruckus", and Ryuji sitting at a booth, snickering at the whole scene. Turning towards Morgana—hiding beneath the booth nearest the door—he asked, "Do I wanna know?"

The cat sighed. "Yusuke got too close and woke the girls up. Makoto screamed, and Lady Ann impulsively kicked him in the stomach."

...yeah, that about checks out.

xxxx

The Phantom Thieves disbursed, but only temporarily; by the time the others returned to Yongen-Jaya at noon, they would have the completed Calling Card in their possession.

Akira spent a bit of time at the batting cages, passing the hours to get into a sort of 'zen' state of mind. It also allowed him to think about his Last Life™, and how events had panned out in Futaba's Palace. (It was only because Ryuji had taken them into the Metaverse outside of Futaba's room that the app had probably gotten onto her phone to begin with; did she have the app yet? He would have to confirm.)

However, once it got past 11 AM, Akira headed towards Sojiro's house, knowing that the Sunday lunch rush would keep the old codger occupied for at least a couple of hours. "Moment of truth," he said to the cat in his bag...until, that is, he realized the door to Sojiro's house was locked. "Bleh."

"Want me to pick it?" asked Morgana.

"I could pick it; not the point." Getting through the last metaphorical doors of Futaba's heart would require some give on her part.

Akira: Hey.
Akira: Boss locked the door to his house.
ALIBABA: How is that my problem?
ALIBABA: Is a door too much for you?
Akira: That's not how it works.
Akira: You have a lot of doors in your heart.
Akira: Breaking through them isn't going to have the effect we're looking for.
Akira: Could you please let me in?

Come on Futaba, I know you can do it, he said in his head.

Minutes passed. Finally, amidst the unsettling silence, there was a click, followed by the muted sounds of someone running away.

Akira gave Futaba a five second head start before opening the door, quietly entering Sojiro's home. He barely entered when the sound of Futaba's door slamming shut echoed down the stairwell. "One door down, another one to go..."

Slowly advancing up the stairwell, Akira set Morgana down to serve as a lookout. With silent steps, he came to a stop outside of Futaba's door.

Akira: Yo.
Akira: I'm outside.

No response.

"...you know, we could talk like this, if you prefer," he said, kneeling down to lean against the door.

(Little did he know, but Futaba's back was right against his own; with legs curled up and arms wrapped her knees, her phone was held with a limp grip.)

"...the inside of a Palace...it differs, depending on the person. You've been helping us out, but the overall function of what we do is...something you haven't really witnessed for yourself. Beyond the aftermath, I should say." Still no response. "...do you have any questions? Any at all?"

(Futaba, contrary to Akira's belief, had the Metaverse Navigator on her phone; as a creation of Yaldabaoth, its adherence to the 'rules' were...flexible. And in the grand scheme of things, what difference did several meters make when Akira's phone had been connected to Futaba's electronic setup through her own prior machinations?)

...come on Futaba, give me something...

(Futaba looked up from her phone, staring at a crimson apparition of herself; wondering why those yellow eyes looked at her without regret, remorse, or anguish. "How long will you turn away from the truth...?")

"...what's my Shadow like?" came her voice, muffled as it was by her door.

"...observant," he replied. "She sees a certain truth that you've turned away from; even in the midst of despair, she refuses to look away."

("It happened right before your eyes. You've shut yourself away from it for long enough," whispered the hallucination, speaking with not an ounce of condemnation. "You know this. You would not have reached out to the Phantom Thieves, otherwise.")

"...and what does my Shadow think about you?" asked Futaba.

Boy, talk about a loaded question. "Well, I have a feeling she doesn't trust me that much; can't exactly blame her. I am a convicted criminal, after all."

Futaba's snort was audible. "I've tried digging into your record. You don't strike me as the kind of guy to randomly assault someone."

"Well, I did do that trick in the museum with Madarame's goons," he reminded her.

"...I still can't believe the things you've been pulling off. The way...that you live so freely...without a care in the world..."

Akira sighed, running a hand through his hair. (Even now, his locks felt oddly luscious; he was used to hair that had gotten a bit flatter over time, and a little duller to the touch. To feel nostalgia for an elderly age was one doozy of a mind-trip.) "Au contraire: I care way too much. Dealing with the Boss's suspicions for the sake of a girl who's turned herself into a shut-in? Way too much of a hassle. Someone who lived with 'freedom' on the brain would have gone their merry way..."

"...so why bother...?"

"...because even before you asked, you wanted someone to help you. Even after going through your Palace...and looking through your cognitive world...I still want to help you. My friends want to help you." He mustered every last mote of kindness that could be spared. "They'll be here soon, with the Calling Card: a key item, you might say. But we need you to open the door to give it to you."

"...like an item needed to complete a sidequest..."

"Hey now, you're definitely Main Story material," he retorted with a smile. "No overpriced DLC here: you're part of the original release, no doubt about it."

("Do not avert your eyes. If you do...then I will not spare them." As Futaba's doppelganger faded away, her soft voice echoed through her head. "Because if they cannot help you...then there is no point in delaying the inevitable.")

Futaba didn't respond.

Akira didn't press any further; with his Third Eye, he could sense her presence. Her form was trembling, as though she were wrestling with indecision.

The silence continued until Morgana announced that the others had arrived. "She still hasn't let you in?" asked Makoto.

"Hey, maybe she's a fan of dramatic timing like I am." Glancing at Yusuke, he noticed that the artist had a certain slip of construction paper in his hands: the Calling Card. "But...the gang's all here."

Ann slid closer to the door, angling her head towards the frame. "Futaba-chan...the inside of your heart was very confusing to us...because it doesn't seem to fit the way Sojiro Sakura described your mother to Akira...so please, don't shut us out..."

(Futaba stared down at her feet; she had been helping the Phantom Thieves for weeks, now. She had observed them all through her bugs. She...had come to know them, even if it was only in a limited way. So...why did her door seem so impenetrable? Why...did it have to be...?)

There was a quiet click, as the door slid open a crack.

Akira quietly stepped in, with the others at his back; contrary to how he remembered things, Futaba had not hidden in her closet. Rather, she was by her bed, facing the starry curtain: had her hair not been such a bright shade of orange, it would have been a perfect match for a horror film. "Thank you for inviting us, Futaba."

("Dude, look at her setup," whispered Ryuji, staring with wide eyes at Futaba's computer equipment.)

("...she stays in here all the time?" wondered Ann underneath her breath, feeling a pang of sadness.)

("...could use a bit of cleaning," mused Morgana, eyeing certain papers and empty food cartons with a wary gaze.)

("Medical science, information technology, biology, psychology...she has a lot of technical books and reference manuals," murmured Makoto to herself, staring at the thick texts sitting on a nearby bookcase.)

"...so...I guess this is the part...where I get the Calling Card...right...?" As odd as it seemed, Futaba's voice sounded quieter, without the door in the way.

Yusuke handed it to Akira; with both hands, he held it forward, as though he were a salaryman exchanging business cards with a peer. "This is the Phantom Thieves' challenge, Futaba Sakura; do you accept?"

Without turning around, Futaba reached behind for the card; with nervous fingers, she slowly brought it up to her face.

xx

(Futaba Sakura had prepared many Calling Cards for the people targeted on Phan-Watch...so it was surreal, having one herself.)

Lady Futaba Sakura, a Slothful Hermit, Drowning in Despair;

We have seen the inner beauty of your heart, marred by regret and anguish;

We have witnessed memories of disbelief, sorrow, and anger; are they true? Are they false? That is not for us to say;

What is certain: that your desires have become distorted! That out of fear, you would rather waste away into Acedia!

We cannot abide such a tragic and unfitting end.

Therefore: we Thieves shall take your Treasure; and unlike the Ali Baba of legend, you shall not keep it secret!

Lo, our Guarantee: Open Sesame!

Sincerely,

The Phantom Thieves of Hearts

(There was...something grand, and otherworldly about it.)

(Even though Futaba knew that this was all part of the routine...she could not help but feel a twinge of panic at the words, and what they entailed.)

xx

"...well...it's different, getting handed one..." With nervous unease, Futaba glanced over her shoulder, only to impulsively look away from the gaggle of Thieves. "...so...what now...?"

...well, how else can it end? Akira, looking at his comrades in the eye, calmly exhaled. "Now? How about...we test a certain hypothesis?"

"...hypothesis...?" repeated Futaba.

Ignoring the confused looks from the others, Akira made his pitch. "Namely: whether or not a person can enter their own Palace."

There was an immediate debate amongst the Thieves, which Akira — turning away from Futaba to his comrades — did his best to assuage. "I mean, I talked to you guys about this idea, back before we tried our first infiltration."

"Yeah, but that was about trying to keep her cognitions from attackin' us, and we ended up making it to the end without her," pointed out Ryuji. "Why risk it now?"

"Also, would bringing her into the Metaverse interfere with the Calling Card?" wondered Yusuke. "As Ryuji says: why risk it?"

"...just based on the stuff her Shadow has said to me...and how much Futaba has helped us? I just have a gut feeling that she should be there," insisted Akira.

(Futaba, holding onto the Calling Card for dear life, had squatted down; her eyes listlessly moved over to her phone...)

"Do you often go by 'gut feelings'?" honestly asked Makoto. "I don't know if that's a good idea here. Futaba's already dealing with so many distortions in her own memories; what would happen to if she directly confronts them?"

"It's precisely because of that that I think she needs to confront them directly," answered Akira.

(Futaba's eyes fell upon a certain unusual app: a stylized eye, colored red and black. Opening it up, she saw the inputs; her mind idly recalled all of the information that she had heard when they were seeking to enter her cognitive world...)

"...I don't know, Akira," murmured Ann, hugging her arms. "If we take her Treasure normally, wouldn't it have the same effect? Why do you want to bring her with us?"

...darn it, these are all good objections. How in the world could Akira say that it was because Futaba had gone into the Palace the Last Time Around™? "...it's hard to explain..."

(Futaba's voice came out as a quiet whisper. "...Futaba Sakura...Sojiro Sakura's house...Tomb...Matricide." Her mind whirled, as she tried wrestling with the conflicting emotions. With a hitched breath, her finger pressed down on the screen...)

Morgana, watching the debate amongst the Thieves with bated breath, felt his ears twitch at the sound of a familiar digitized voice. "Beginning Navigation?" he repeated with confusion. Looking away from the others, he glanced towards the curtain, only to boggle at the sight of Futaba fading out of reality. "Guys! She's gone!"

The Thieves all turned, staring at where Futaba had been. "What the eff?!" exclaimed Ryuji.

...oh no, she actually had the app. "She must have somehow gotten the Meta-Nav on her phone," hissed Akira, immediately reaching for his phone. "We need to follow her; she doesn't have a Persona to protect herself!" Clustering together, the five teens (plus one cat) fell into her Palace...

xx

...only to land within the expanse of the desert. "OH COME ON!" yelled Skull.

"Mona, is Futaba anywhere around?!" demanded Joker. If she ended up within the desert, she could die of exposure-!

"...I'm not sensing her anywhere nearby," murmured Mona; there was a distinctive pulse in the atmosphere, as the sky thrummed with crimson panic. "I think...she's closer to the Pyramid...!"

"Then let's hurry," said Panther.

"...there is something approaching from the horizon," said Fox, holding a hand over his mask. "A...Sphinx with a bob cut...?"

"...oh no." The blood drained from Joker's face. "That's Futaba's cognition of her mother."

Queen hopped onto the seat of Johanna. "We need to move!" she exclaimed; in response to her will, the tires of her Persona shifted to to a tread type that was suitable for driving off-road through desert sand.

With a puff of smoke, the Mona-Van manifested. Joker hopped onto the driver's seat, whilst Skull, Panther, and Fox poured into the back rows. "Open the roof, open the windows; be prepared to attack with your Persona and your firearms! I'm going to be driving like there's no tomorrow!"

The Sphinx's outraged howl echoed all about them; with desperate energy, van and motorbike roared through the desert, with the wrathful cognition in hot pursuit.

xxxx

(And all the while, Futaba — who had emerged within the confines of her tomb; its innards bereft of enemy forces — quietly walked throughout the innards of her mental tomb, marvelling at how it was nothing like she had expected.)

(Yet, it was not long before she encountered her doppelganger from before: this time, bereft of the crimson aura that had rendered it a ghostly apparition in reality. "You have arrived. He kept his word.")

("...who...what are you? Are you...my heart...?" wondered Futaba.)

("I am she who sees the truth you have refused to remember. I am the one who sees clearly, whereas you see through a glass darkly." With an act of will, Futaba's Shadow manifested three murals. "Now: witness me.")

(And lo, Futaba was forced to face her fears.)

xxxx

Driving through the desert was far more difficult when an angry Sphinx was trying to kill them, mused Joker.

Skull stood on the back seats, his torso extending out through the sunroof; he tried to time Captain Kidd's Electric and Physical Skills whenever the Sphinx got in close. Fox and Panther were hanging out windows on the opposite sides, respectively firing their assault rifle and submachine gun whenever they had a clear shot. As for Mona?

"Speed boost!" yelled Joker, yanking hard on the steering wheel.

"Go, Zorro!" exclaimed the Mona-Van; Zorro popped into being behind the vehicle, firing a Garula that propelled the vehicle forward; they just barely dodged the downward swipe of the Sphinx's paw, even though the impact's shockwave threatened to bowl them over.

The yelps of the others forced Joker to try and stabilize his driving path, because this was not his preferred method of combat! "Hang on!"

All the while, Queen — taking opportunistic potshots with her revolver — drove Johanna on an alternating path, firing Nuclear Skills against the flanks of the Sphinx.

But it wasn't enough; their attacks were too sporadic, not concentrated enough. "YOU WRETCHES SHALL STAY AWAY FROM THE PHARAOH'S TOMB!" shrieked the Sphinx.

"Doesn't this thing ever shut up?!" yelled Skull.

"Now you know how I felt!" retorted Joker, his focus geared towards keeping the Mona-Van from tipping over. Damn it all, this is not ideal-!

"FUTABA DESERVES ONLY DEATH!" The Sphinx reared her wings. "AND SO SHE SHALL REMAIN WITHIN THE TOMB, FOREVEEER!" With a great flap, enormous dust devils sprung into being, swirling through the landscape.

"HANG ONTO SOMETHING!" ordered Joker, as both van and motorbike desperately wove around the voracious cyclones.

xxxx

(The heart of the Pharaoh's Tomb bore a singular coffin: all around were echoes of numerous figures from Futaba's past. Men in black, casually stating how her mother died because of her, and had destroyed her research out of suicidal madness; members of the Isshiki family, speaking vile curses at her; ghostly visions of Wakaba, screaming at her.)

(Through it all, Futaba's Shadow remained a steadfast companion. "Why have your memories of your beloved mother become distorted?")

(In her Palace, thinking was...easier, yet harsher. Memories bubbled forth, unburdened by her own despair. "...the note...that those men in black kept reading...over and over...")

("Were those words truly those of your mother? For what purpose were those words crafted?")

(Her mother's research had been so important; Mom had been proud...and so had Futaba, by proxy. "Her work...the things that could have been done with it...")

("Even if she hated you, why would your mother destroy the work she cherished? If she despised you for getting in the way, then what would throwing away all of her research have accomplished?")

(Inconsistencies; discrepancies; one by one, the illogic of her own distortions began to crumble. "She wouldn't have...it doesn't make sense...because she never hated me...never...which means...that note..." Gripping onto the edge of the coffin, she struggled against the stone lid. "...was a lie...!")

(The lid slid off with a conclusive crack; Futaba's Shadow now lied within, staring back with an impassiveness that was paradoxically intense. "You were used. Their manipulations bred discord within your heart, turning you into the cause of your own damnation; get mad! You've let those rotten adults taint the memory of your beloved mother! And for what?")

(Futaba's hair overshadowed her face; staring at her own reflection, she whispered, "I...I knew the truth...but...I was too afraid...lost in my own sadness...and my own pain..." A hidden fire began to flicker up within. "...but...deep down...I knew it couldn't be true...my mother was nothing like those false memories...!")

("Which is why you sought the help of the Phantom Thieves to begin with." The tone in the voice of Futaba's Shadow was...expectant. "Will you continue to be bound by these cursed illusions?")

("...no...I won't forgive those horrible adults...for lying to me...for trampling on my heart...for making me think of my mother in such a monstrous way..." How had her mother truly died? The need for answers, and resolution...oh, how it suddenly began to burn! "I...won't turn away from the truth...no matter what it costs...no matter who tries to stop me...!")

("...and so your Will of Rebellion has awoken. Never forget this." Ascending out of the coffin, Futaba's Shadow began to transform. "For I am thou...and thou art I: let this be the proof of your vow...!")

(And then there was nothing but emerald light...)

xxxx

A dust devil had swooped in from behind, knocking the Mona-Van over; the vehicle had impulsively morphed back into an anthropomorphic cat, if only so the Phantom Thieves could land on their feet. "We're sitting ducks out here...!" yelled Mona.

This is bad. Joker growled, summoning Arsène; his Persona stood protectively in front, joining Captain Kidd, Carmen, Zorro, and Goemon in a protective ring around them. Think; how to get out of this mess...?!

Queen rolled up besides them; Johanna's engine was downright muted by the roar of the cyclones. "I can't break away; the whirlwinds are too many!"

"THIS IS THE END FOR YOU!" roared the Sphinx from above, her voice piercing through the desert gales. "NOW DIIIEEE!"

At that instant, a pillar of radiant light erupted from the Pyramid, casting a stark glow across the entire realm of Futaba's Palace. Accompanying the burst was a great shockwave, passing over with enough force to dispel the whirlwinds.

"That light," murmured Fox.

"What's going on?!" exclaimed Panther.

...could it be? Did she...? Joker didn't dare to hope.

From the pillar of light, a strange sprite zipped out with unbelievable speed, swooping towards them-!

It was hard to explain, the sudden shift in perspective; in one instance, the Phantom Thieves all stood upon the harsh ground of an unrelenting desert; the next, they stood upon glossy metal, soaring through the sky.

"What...what just happened?" asked Skull, looking around with alarm; the statue of a winged gargoyle sat in between them all. Looking over the curved edges of the platform, the shape brought something to mind. "Are...are we on a friggin' UFO?!"

A holographic window opened in the air above them, projected by the eyes of the gargoyle: it portrayed Futaba Sakura—shrouded in green computer lights, her upper body clad in some kind of skintight bodysuit— with a determined expression. "The Phantom Thieves have called for aid; and Necronomicon shall answer!"

There were a lot of things that Joker had assumed would go rather similarly to the Last Time Around™, yet the tiny details kept shifting against expectation.

Fighting on top of a giant-sized Necronomicon had not been on his checklist.

Was he going to complain? Not in the least.

"FUTABAAA!" shrieked the Sphinx, rising into the sky to fly alongside them. "HOW DARE YOUUU?! ARE YOU TRYING TO DISOBEY MEEE!?"

"M-Mom..." Futaba's voice echoed out of her Persona: hesitant, yet slowly growing in strength. "...no. You're not. You're just a fake, created by own imagination!" As the Sphinx roared with indignation, Futaba cried, "Ph-Phantom Thieves! Help me take down this overgrown nightmare!"

"Can do!" exclaimed Joker, reaching for his pistol and summoning Thunderbird. "Ladies and gentlemen, open fire!"

As Thunderbird and Captain Kidd soared through the air to fling lightning at the roaring cognition, Zorro, Carmen, Goemon, and Johanna unleashed their own respective skills; all the while, each Phantom Thief fired furiously with their respective firearms: even Skull, whose shotgun was improbably hitting the Sphinx from afar. "I dunno how the eff this is happening, but I ain't complainin'!"

"So long as you're with me, you've got yourself an aimbot!" cracked Futaba.

Skull grinned in acknowledgment. "Heh; sweet!"

Bereft of the vicious cyclones and the harsh desert sands that had favored the Sphinx's own tactics, the Phantom Thieves slowly yet surely whittled down the monstrous cognition; however, she was not going to go quietly. "YOU LITTLE WITCH! HOW DARE YOU TREAT YOUR MOTHER THIS WAY? AFTER ALL I DID FOR YOUUU! YOU TRULY DESERVE NOTHING BUT DEAAATH!" With a vicious howl, she ascended high into the sky.

"Is she going to dive bomb us?" said Queen.

"She won't get through; this is my cognitive world, after all..." With a quiet sigh, Futaba murmured, "Mom may be gone...but I will carry the memory of the real Wakaba Isshiki with me...not a phony like you!"

As the Sphinx's form became smaller in their sight, a brief flash of inspiration came to Joker. Huh. I wonder...worth a shot. "Hey, Mona. C'mere."

Mona blinked with curiosity. "What is it?" When Joker leaned down to explain his idea, the not-a-cat's eyes glimmered with inspiration. "Ooh...a spur-of-the-moment innovation! Just as one would expect from the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Let's do it!"

Joker nodded, even as a certain star glimmered within his pocket. "Given all the driving we've done so far? We might as well finish with style." Looking at the others, he yelled, "Make sure to brace for impact, and attack the moment the Sphinx gets back in range!"

"YOU SHOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN BOOORN!" From the sky, the Sphinx soared downward, paws outstretched to crush them.

(Mona transformed into his van form; Joker immediately hopped behind the wheel, whilst Zorro conjured a whirlwind...)

"FUTABAAA!" The Sphinx struck-!

"Shut up, faker! Ultimate Defense, activate!" retorted Futaba. A translucent barrier flashed into being, tanking the cognition's blow...

(...and as the Mona-Van improbably drove along the aerial currents, Joker's Persona—now back to Arsène—pressed his feet against the van's back door...)

...and the writhing tentacles of Necronomicon rose from the underside of the flying saucer, wrapping around the Sphinx's limbs to hold her in place. "Now, attack!"

"YOU WRETCHED FOOOLS!" As the Sphinx struggled — even as Skull, Panther, Fox, Queen, and their Personas unleashed a furious assault upon the cognitive beast — she continued her wrathful tirade. "YOU WILL ONLY BE A BURDEN! A NUISANCE! A WRETCHED CREATURE, UNWORTHY OF LOVE OR HAPPINESS!"

"...my Mom always loved me. And no matter how guilty I feel...I've decided to live!"

"Yeah, you tell her!" roared Skull, smacking his pipe against the paw.

"Grab for what happiness you can get, Futaba!" exclaimed Panther, whipping wildly.

"Let your life be a testament against those who call you a burden!" swore Yusuke, slashing with a furious intensity.

"And don't let any of your mistakes define your future!" yelled Queen, her fists striking harshly.

The Sphinx screamed invective after invective, unwilling to relent...

("I think it's time we shut this bad dream up for good," said Joker, gripping the steering wheel tightly.)

("You said it!" exclaimed the Mona-Van, his nose aimed directly for the Sphinx. "Punch it!")

(Joker slammed on the accelerator; Arsène kicked off against the Mona-Van sending them roaring downward; Zorro's whirlwinds swirled around them, increasing their velocity...!)

...only to howl with agony as the Mona-Van crashed into her side, detonating in a vicious explosion of cursed fire and whipping winds; out of the blast emerged Joker and Mona, landing with a flourish upon Futaba's Persona. The former knelt down, holding out a hand for Mona to fist-bump. "Cool guys don't look at explosions," they quipped, even as the Mona-Van's remnants (which somehow still existed, but they weren't going to question it, because — as Mona and Panther's previous Showtime had proven — the Cool Factor™ reigned supreme over all inconsistencies!) exploded a second time.

And with that, the Sphinx finally fell.

As Necronomicon slowly set down beside the cognition's dissolving corpse, the Phantom Thieves all marvelled at Futaba's appearance: with fluorescent green lines on her dark bodysuit, rugged black pants with leather holsters and metal knee pads, neon-lime boots and gloves, and a bulky visor with giant red lenses, she looked like a cyberpunk character straight out of a sci-fi movie. "Whoa...neato...and it's skin-tight too..."

Joker — waving off repeated questions from Skull as how in the world he and Mona had pulled off their dual tech — stared at the fading form of the Sphinx. "...I think you're about to have your closure, Futaba."

Futaba yelped, glancing over at the Sphinx; stepping forth was a fading echo of the Wakaba Isshiki has she had truly been in real life: clad in black pants and a sleeveless dark blouse, with her lab's ID tag hanging on a lanyard around her neck. "M...Mom...?"

"You finally chose to remember the real me, Futaba," said the remnant of Wakaba, sounding sincere and genuine, without an ounce of wrath. "Thank you."

"...I'm sorry for being so selfish," she whispered. "And I'm sorry if I ever caused you any trouble-!"

"That's neither here nor there: I may be gone, but you are still alive." Wakaba's remnant stared at all of the Phantom Thieves with an intention that seemed...a little too real, to belong to a mere cognition. "Until we meet again, in the next life...I will always love you."

"I...I love you too, Mom! So..." Choking down her tears, Futaba said, "...goodbye...for now..."

And with that, Wakaba Isshiki vanished.

While Skull, Fox, Panther, and Queen all seemed fairly emotional in their own unique ways about the heartfelt farewell, Mona looked around with concern. "...this Palace feels very unstable. Futaba! What was your Treasure?"

"Wah! Talking cat!" exclaimed Futaba, as if suddenly realizing they were all there. "Um. Well...I met that other me in the Pyramid...and she was lying in a coffin...and there was a lot of other stuff, but nothing that I would call a treasure..."

"It's the foundation of what causes a Palace to take shape to begin with," explained Joker, finally recalling how their foray into the Palace had ended the Last Time Around™. "In this case...it wasn't anything related to your mother, or to those men in black: it was you. So in a sense...you were your own Treasure." Even if the efficient cause of Futaba's false memories had been Wakaba's death and the fallout from the fake suicide note, the substance of her Palace had been entirely rooted in Futaba's own guilt. "...but I think we can discuss this back in reality," he remarked, as the sensation of tremors slowly grew in strength.

Everyone glanced toward the distant town, where the Pyramid itself was beginning to collapse in a grandiose fashion. As sand and debris roared into the sky, the world itself seemed to narrow down.

"...right," said Futaba, still sounding uncertain about...everything that had just happened. "So...time to step AFK, I guess," she remarked, reaching for her phone to activate the Meta-Nav.

The Phantom Thieves followed suit, as they all vanished from the Metaverse.

xxxx

When Akira felt the solid grip of physicality once more, his first impression was that he was still inside Futaba's room. Looks like a more controlled exit means a lower likelihood of ending up in a different spot when a Palace is collapsing; good to know. With that squared away, he immediately turned towards where he had last seen Futaba; sure enough, was slumped over, leaning against the side of her bed. "Hey, you okay?"

"...blurgh..." Futaba grumbled, sounding like some bizarre cross between sleepy, drunk, and zombie-like. "...tired...hungry...thirsty..."

Well, it's a damn sight better than being completely unconscious. Turning back to the others—each one busy gathering themselves—he said, "Hey guys, mind holding the door open? I'm taking her to the couch downstairs." (It was crazy how light Futaba was.) Geez girl, you need to get some muscle on you.

(A benefit to working out in the attic at night before bed...)

Fortunately, there was some leftover curry and rice in the fridge, as well as a can of green tea; after warming up the food, Akira watched as Makoto — in a very motherly fashion — spoon-fed the tired hikikomori, whilst Ann held up the can of green tea for Futaba to sip from. Ryuji, meanwhile, came down with a blanket from Futaba's bed, resting it across her legs. "I mean, those skinny legs are probably cold." In response to Makoto and Ann's stares, Ryuji blinked. "What? What'd I say?"

"Ryuji makes a fair point," observed Yusuke. "I often find myself feeling rather cold at times, and I have been told I am quite lean for my height," he said, not noticing the dry stares from the others.

Akira quietly looked at Futaba, enjoying the sense of peace slowly building up. There's a long way for you to go...but now it's a new start. And that can mean all the difference. "You going to be okay?"

"...I just feel tired," murmured Futaba, looking sleepily at them all. "Don't know...how to feel..."

"Better than before, at least?"

At this, Futaba's nod was good enough for him.

Morgana called out to them from the front door. "Guys, we should go ahead and split up for the day; we don't know when Boss will be back."

"Will Futaba be okay?" wondered Ann.

"...just...gonna sleep..." murmured Futaba, resting back on the couch.

"...call or text if you need anything. It's been...a very hectic weekend," mused Akira. "Good job, team. I'll keep you all posted if anything changes."

Thus did they depart for the day.

xxxx

(It was later that evening, when Sojiro finally returned; it was quite the surprise, to find Futaba sleeping on the couch. "Futaba?! You're...out of your room!?")

(The young teenager blinked, staring sleepily at him. "Oh. Hey Sojiro. I...just felt like it...")

("How...how did you get here?!")

("Uh...I came down the stairs," she confusedly replied.)

(Sojiro didn't know what to make of this; dumbfounded, he quietly sat down by her feet, looking at her with an uncertain expression.)

(Futaba slowly rose, removing her glasses; holding them in both hands, she seemed to be contemplating something. Finally, with a solemn look in her eyes, she asked, "Sojiro...did...did Mom hate me?" There was a strangely fierce look in her eyes. "Convince me.")

(Of all the questions Sojiro expected, it had not been this; his normal sentimentality for Futaba warred with a weary old man who knew that convincing was a matter of knowledge and will, not emotions. Thinking back to June the 5th—when Akira had confronted him about Futaba for the first time, and so much about her situation had been unveiled—he decided to metaphorically borrow the boy's guts. "...you're a smart girl; you know how our society treats children who are considered illegitimate." Even though the law's perspective on children born out of wedlock had slowly but surely shifted over the past decades, social attitudes were...far more difficult to change. "And yet...your mother didn't care for anyone else's opinions. She gave birth to you...and raised you. As far as actions go...I think that says far more than any amount of words could." Honestly...it sounded lame, and lacked conviction. I could have said something better...)

(Yet, for some reason, it was enough to reduce Futaba to tears, as she buried her face into Sojiro's torso and cried messily.)

(That night, their emotional scars finally began to heal.)

xxxx

/Meanwhile, back in the present timeline.../

"...so you actually changed Futaba's heart?" asked Misato.

"It took a few days before she reached back out to us, but she managed to come around," said Ren Amamiya. "So...yeah."

"...it was quite an eventful year for you, it sounds like," observed Ryuji Sakamoto, scratching at the wrinkles around his eyes. "And we're not even at summer, yet."

Ren shrugged. "I've managed to get retelling my life's story down to a fine art; I doubt more than an hour's passed in reality."

"Bull and shit," retorted Misato.

"Hey, I managed to relay this entire spiel during a prosecutor's interrogation while drugged up to my eyeballs," said Ren. "Pretty sure I took no more than two hours, if that." (Which was kind of impression, come to think of it; subtle time dilation effects, due to the unique structure of the world born from the Sea of Souls?) "Anyhow, the rest of that Sunday was...nothing...special...?" Wait a second...

Misato and Ryuji shared a glance before the latter asked, "You okay?"

...that...couldn't be...could it...? (That girl had given him a different name; she had been older...and yet, only now in retrospect, could he make the connection...!)

Ryuji leaned forward. "...hey, kid."

Ren surprised them both by slamming his fist into the floor. "Damn it. Just had an epiphany...and not the good kind."

xxxx

/Back to the prior timeline.../

Akira had elected to go to the nearby batting cages to wind down from completing the infiltration of Futaba's Palace; with even Morgana electing to look around elsewhere ("To be honest, watching you hit a ball over and over gets kind of boring," the cat had grumpily remarked before sauntering off on his lonesome), it was a nice bit of quiet time for the leader of the Phantom Thieves.

As Futaba rested, Akira batted away; several people came and went during that time, but only one stayed as long as he did: a young woman — probably Makoto and Haru's age, if not a little older — batted away to her heart's content. Clad in an orange blouse over a frilly white dress, the woman nonetheless had a surprising amount of power in her swings, notwithstanding her dressy white sandals.

Before long, they had subconsciously gotten into a home run contest with each other, all without saying a word. Even after locking in, the woman kept pace; at one point, they managed to have seven straight home runs. Without prompting, he glanced over to make a bet. "Loser gives the winner their home run prizes?"

The woman, surprised by his question, nonetheless grinned. "You're on," she agreed, much to his surprise.

BAM.

Her baseball was a direct bull's eye; his was off ever so slightly.

...well shoot. Still, a bet was a bet.

As Akira handed over his prizes, he remarked, "I can't help but wonder if I'm dealing with a pro."

The woman giggled, running a hand through her auburn bangs. "Well, I'm just working off some stress from university; not exactly on the fast track to join the Giants or the Swallows or anything like that..."

"Well, can I at least have the name of the lady who bested me in combat?"

"Age before beauty," she quipped.

Akira impulsively wanted to remark that he was probably younger than her, only to realize that would be going for an indirect social faux pas regarding a woman's age. Huh. Well played. "Well, as the lady wishes: my name's Akira Kurusu."

The woman — short and messy ponytail bobbing with each movement — boldly took his hand, giving it a firm shake. "And my name is Kotone Shiomi. It was fun, kid!"

As she departed, Akira couldn't help but grin. Man, today's turning out great; we changed Futaba's cognition, and I had a closely fought contest with a total stranger.

(Oh, if only he knew...if only he knew...!)

xxxx

TO BE CONTINUED

xxxx

Author's Note: A reminder that 'Kotone Shiomi' is one of the alternate names for Minako Arisato (and is arguably the most canon one, coming from the P3 stage play and all).

Next chapter will be an interlude of sorts, featuring scenes ongoing while Ren is recounting his story to Misato and Ryuji.