Persona 5: Daywatch

Tuesday, 26 April 2016
Morning
Shujin Gym

Akira lined up with the rest of Shujin's student population in the gym. The memory of the battle against the false angel in the Metaverse made his hackles rise. Unencumbered by knowledge of another world overlapping this one, the other students buzzed with gossip.

A pigtailed girl with gaudy hair ornaments beside him leaned to whisper to the boy on her left, her arms crossed in exasperation. "Seriously? An assembly in the middle of the week? Couldn't they at least wait until Golden Week?"

A boy beside her with dark, short-trimmed hair leaned closer to her. "You think it's about the girl who jumped?"

The pigtailed girl huffed. "It's been almost two weeks. What are they going to do, tell us not to kill ourselves? Great timing."

Ann, several spaces ahead of Akira, crossed her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Muttering filled the gym like the summer humidity until Principal Kobayakawa took to the lectern. The fat man cleared his throat and gripped the edges of the stand. "Thank you all for coming, I am pleased to announce that Kamoshida-sensei has agreed to return to Shujin today. All of us have a bright future ahead, and—"

Curtains ruffled as Kamoshida trudged out from the back of the stage. He wore a grey sweatshirt and black track slacks, both rumpled. His curly hair stood flat on one side like he just sat up from the pillow. His eyes slid closed, deep circles around them giving him a skeletal appearance.

Kobayakawa turned from the lectern, a smile splitting his face at seeing his favorite teacher after weeks. "Thank the gods, Kamoshida-san…" He paused, eyes taking in the matted hair, wrinkled clothes, and defeated slouch. "Is… everything all right?"

"I cannot keep the truth inside." Kamoshida opened his eyes, trudged to the lectern and leaned against it for support.

The students fell silent, as if waiting for a grenade pin to drop.

Kamoshida looked away from the principal, but also avoided making eye contact with the arrayed students. "I… I physically battered my teams." His hands tensed on the wood stand and gulped down a breath. "I sexually harassed and blackmailed the female students. I even dissolved the track team because of an argument with its coach." His arms shook and he squeezed his eyes closed.

Paling, Kobayakawa ran up to the slouching coach, but murmuring already started from the students. A girl five or six students to Akira's right broke down sobbing, the students around her catching her to keep her from falling to her knees. After a sharp wail, she charged the stage, passing four rows of students before one snagged her arm and brought her to a spinning halt.

The two rent-a-cops at the sides of the stage stood, frozen in shock.

"Get down!" Kobayakawa reached up and tried in vain to pull the towering athlete away from the microphone as students gabbed in excited conversation, their neat rows wavering.

A crumpled paper ball hurled through the air at the stage, snapping the rent-a-cops out of their frozen state. Both fell back to the stand, but couldn't decide if they wanted to focus on Kamoshida or the less and less organized crowd of students.

Tears glistened at the corners of Kamoshida's eyes. "I was so arrogant, I thought of this school as a private castle. I…" He heaved in a breath. "I am shame itself." Tears fell. "I am the one who… who… I am the cause for Suzui Shiho's suicide attempt!"

The rising murmur of students broke into shouting, most incredulous.

Mind reeling with the event unfolding on stage, Akira gawked at the stage. Kamoshida's heart really did change! Spotting somebody else texting reminded him of his own phone and Akira dialed the cops. "Finally, the culprit goes six feet under for what he did to Shiho."

One of the third year teachers bellowed, "Return to your rooms!"

Trembling, Kamoshida tumbled to all fours beside the microphone stand. Akira couldn't hear what he said, but both school cops dove for the muscled coach. Something glinted as it tumbled away from him before they wrestled him to his stomach and zip-tied his hands behind his back.

Ann shrieked, her voice somehow carrying above the frenzied crowd, "You don't have the right to flee, bastard! Shiho's still fighting for life! If she can keep going after everything you did to her, you better atone! For everything!"

He couldn't tell where it started in the discord, but a chant grew through the crowd, "Jail Kamoshida! Jail Kamoshida!"

The rent-a-cops fought to get the coach back to his feet, but once they did he shook his head and returned to the microphones, leaning down to them. "You're right, Takamaki-chan. I have not built this school, I ruined it." Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. "I even tried to extort Takamaki for sexual favors."

The rest of his words were drowned out by the shouting in the crowd. Red flashed through the gym windows as the school security hauled him back behind the curtains. Noticing the flashes coming from outside, Akira set his jaw. "Here come the fuzz."

Tuesday, 26 April 2016
Lunchtime
Shujin Gym

Nodding to Ann, the police officer scribbled something at the bottom of her notepad. "Thank you, miss. We'll be contacting you, later." She waved two fingers at another girl waiting in line. "Next!"

Ann meandered through the gym, coming to a stop next to Akira, waiting in another line. She crossed her arms, eyes wide as she tried to take in the mess remaining across the gym after the near-riot. "I don't believe it. His heart did change."

Ryuji wove through the scattered clumps of students refusing to disperse from the gym commandeered to interview students about Kamoshida's meltdown. He came to a stop next to Ann, a wide grin on his face as he handed bread to her and the transfer student. "Dudes, I tried pinching myself, but it still doesn't feel real. Am I dreaming?"

Playing on his phone, Akira slid a shogi tile over and confirmed end turn. As light-headed as he still felt, coasting on autopilot seemed as much as he could manage. He glanced up at the track star. "The fuzz always take forever. What's the big deal?"

"I mean all over school, man!" Ryuji's enthusiasm shone undimmed. "The teachers aren't even trying to hold classes anymore, an' I heard there's even detectives at the office."

Akira noticed Ann scanning the boys in line with him, no interest in her melon bread. When she looked back a second time, popping up on her toes for a moment, he knew something was wrong. "What's up?"

"Where's Yuuki?" She said, looking around the gym. "I thought he was right behind you. He looked awful."

Akira turned and lifted his hand to point, "He's just two…" When he saw no trace of the Class 2-D representative, a chill sank into his spine. When Mishima didn't seem up to talking, Akira figured he just needed time to himself and focused on staying in line. But that empty look…

Akira pushed the contents of his hands to Ann and slunk out at as fast a walk as he could without drawing the adults' eyes. As few cops as were there to watch over the crowd, none noticed his stealthy exit to the courtyard. The instant he was out, he broke into a sprint.

A trio of students chatting under the covered awning looked up as he passed, but made no move to stop his dash into the academic building.

Leaping up the stairs four at a time, Akira raced to the roof.

Metal fencing jangled as Mishima pulled himself up the inside of the roof fence.

Akira leaped over the small greens in planters, snagging Mishima's feet.

The sudden force plucked Mishima from the heavy wire fence, and both boys tumbled backwards, landing against the plastic planters, spilling dirt and crushing baby tomato stalks.

Mishima's face glistened under his eyes and nose. After a minute to catch his breath, he sobbed, "At least Kamoshida had the guts to confess."

Akira more pulled Mishima to his feet than helped the crying boy up. "What are you talking about?"

Tears spilling from his eyes, Mishima snapped, "I was the one who killed her."

Akira's hands froze, holding bunches of Mishima's uniform shirt, his mental train derailed. The transfer student's mouth drifted open, closed, then open again before he forced his hands open. "Mishima, I was right there when the ambulance took her away. She started to say Kamoshida's name before she—"

Already weak, Mishima fell against Akira. "He'd hit any of us." His hoarse voice trembled as he added, "All of us. At first I thought I could withstand it so he wouldn't hurt Shiho. I'd… I'd warn her to get out of school any time he wanted her for special coaching." His body trembled. "But then at the nurse when you said that about concussions… I saw myself in a hospital bed, with a breathing tube in my nose and IV in my arm, with some doctor in a white coat tellin' mom I'd never wake up again."

Unable to decide what to do, he let Mishima cry against his uniform jacket. "And then?"

At least a minute of crying passed before Shiho's boyfriend responded. "Ka…Kamoshida tried calling Ann-san, but she must've turned her phone off." He sucked in a trembling breath. "He was livid. He turned on me and hit me harder than he ever did before. I fell and everything went black for a few seconds." His voice cracked, tears still falling. "And all I could see was a vision of me drooling in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. So when he sent me for Shiho," he heaved in a ragged breath, "I went."

Akira's fists tightened just thinking of the loveliest girl in school being in his office.

Mishima's eyes stared into the unseen distance. "She looked so tired, but she was still so beautiful. I tried to warn her. But she wouldn't go. Said he'd know she was still at school." He sat back against his heels, his voice cracking as he grabbed fists of his hair. "I sent her to him! The nicest, prettiest, most amazing girl in the world and I sent her to that monster!" Letting go, he took a stumbling step back at the fence. "He didn't push her off that roof, I did!"

Akira's hands curled into fists and red haze choked his vision.

Then an image sprang to his mind, the cafeteria on the first day when she looked up from the text message on her phone and sent that sweet smile across the room.

A smile warmer than the sun on a winter day.

Shooting to his feet, Akira grabbed Mishima by the shoulders and spun him around, forcing him to look in his eyes. "No, Mishima. You didn't do this. Kamoshida did. He was the one who turned his fists on the students. He was the one who savaged you and her."

His knees quivered. "But I—"

Akira slammed Mishima against the air conditioning unit behind, anger at himself and anger at the world lending him strength. "No, look at me!" He held steady until the class representative looked at him through glistening eyes. "Say it with me. Kamoshida hit you."

Voice cracking, Mishima said, "Kamoshida hit you."

Akira relaxed his iron grip on the shorter boy's shoulders, closed his eyes, then took a deep breath and opened them. "Kamoshida hit me."

Tone confused, Mishima parroted, "Kamoshida hit me."

"Kamoshida hit Shiho."

Mishima blubbered, "But I—"

Akira thumped Mishima into the roof-top equipment again. "Kamoshida hit Shiho."

Mishima's voice cracked, "Kamoshida hit Shiho."

"And I will not commit the sin of taking my own life."

Mishima blinked. "But Shiho—"

Snarling, Akira pushed Mishima against the towering AC unit. "Is still fighting for her life. But even if she wasn't, you should be for yours."

Lip quivering, Mishima grabbed the transfer student's coat back. "I don't deserve—"

Akira pulled Mishima up to push him against the bulky metal unit again. "Suicide is a sin! You're still alive, and that must mean God's got something important for you in this life."

Chin still trembling, tears dripped down Mishima's face. "I don't deserve your help. You had the strength to help everyone in Shujin even after Kamoshida leaked your record. All I did was keep my head down until it happened to Shi-chan."

Fingers slipping from the class representative's long-sleeved shirt, Akira stepped back.

"I heard that guy works for the thugs in Shibuya."

"Who would want to hang out with a delinquent?"

Akira took in a breath, but his heart rate continued to climb. His body felt like it wanted to tear itself apart, and the reminder his school would never give him a moment's rest only added to the sense of pressure. He slammed a hand onto the AC unit next to Mishima, clenching his teeth. The pulsing pain in his knuckles shot clarity through his system. "Then you atone. Do something." He lifted his left sleeve above the elbow to give Mishima a good look at an arm marred with thin, faded scars. "I know most of them aren't easy to make out, but you see these?"

Mishima nodded.

Akira paused. He never showed anybody these scars before. Scars meant you screwed up, but he already crossed the point of no return. "Not all of these were inflicted by other people. This one," he pointed to a thin, pale line going from just below his wrist to the inner elbow, "was when I only wanted to get away from my old bastard. I woke up in the hospital and met Father Motoori."

The class representative leaned against the AC unit, his eyes falling to his shoes.

Several moments of silence passed before Akira pulled his sleeve back down. "This life we have isn't free. Remember what I said last time?"

Mishima breathed for several long seconds, his rhythm hitching once before he closed his eyes. "Take my feelings, gather them, and use them."

Akira clapped his hands on Mishima's shoulders, giving a triumphant smile bearing teeth. "Yes!"

Mishima steadied under the transfer student's hands. After several seconds, he looked up but couldn't quite meet the other's eyes. "I… I have to earn this."

Akira let go. "That's my Mishima-kun."

Wednesday, 27 April 2016
Lunchtime
Shujin, Class 2-D

The final bell rang and the math teacher gave up trying to control the students' conversations. Ann twirled her pen through her fingers, antsy to get Akira and Morgana alone so they could talk about what happened. With Kamoshida's confession, there was no doubt they did something significant.

Jamming her lesson plan for the day in her binder, Usami-sensei glanced up at the board scribbled with math diagrams intended to hold the class's attention. She let out a quick breath, then lifted her binder. "Class representative, clean this up."

Mishima stood and gave a rote, "Yes professor." The energy faded almost as soon as the class gabbing began, but at least he didn't have the empty-as-shark-eyes look she saw on him yesterday before Akira went after him. Dark eyes didn't belong hollow, they were meant to be deep as a cool well.

She considered snagging him for a pep talk – Mishima swallowed so much abuse to keep Shiho insulated – but discarded the idea once he began a rote but even pace to clean up the board. Ann muttered, "He's not in a good place, but he'll get by for now." Friend of a friend out of mind, Ann felt her phone vibrate as soon as she got up to the front of the classroom.

Ryuji's ID stared out at her on the group chat. [Dudes, this is totes unreal! We gotta talk with the cat.]

No sign of response from Akira, which tickled a warning sense in her brain. He was always prompt about responding at first. But since stealing Kamoshida's Treasure, he disappeared every lunch and hardly spoke.

Sayuri, from Class 2-B, slipped in and intercepted Ann before she could get to Akira's row. The rather plain girl bowed. "I'm so sorry I spread rumors about you, Takamaki-san! I had no idea what was really going on."

Ann felt a nervous smile spread over her face and she tried to figure out how to get out of the fourth girl to apologize since yesterday. On the one hand, it was nice to feel vindicated. On the other, Akira looked almost done packing. "Oh… uh… you don't have to bow and be like that."

Sayuri held the pose anyway. "We were so horrible to you. I'll make it up to you, I promise." She rose and shuffled out of the way when the student at the front of the row stood up, giving Ann an opening to speedwalk down to Akira.

She flashed a show smile to try to lighten the mood around the morose transfer student. "Ryuji wants to have a word with Morgana. See you at the usual place?"

Akira watched Sayuri leave and finished adjusting the books in his bag but failed to quite meet her eyes. "You were right, Ann-san. I was wrong." His eyes fell and his shoulders slumped. "I have something I need to do." He glanced down at his desk to the cat. "Go with them, I'll meet up back at Leblanc." He shouldered his school satchel and slipped out with the grace of an Olympic gymnast before she could argue.

Ann looked down at the talking cat hiding in his desk. "I wonder what's up with him?"

Morgana's ears drooped. "I wish I knew. I live with him and I don't know what goes through his head."

With nothing else to do, she let the team guide into her bag and brought him up to the ceiling, pausing for another pair of apologies in the halls as she headed to the rooftop rendezvous with Ryuji. As soon as she got there, she dropped her bag to one of the spare desks. "Man, you're heavy. I don't know how Akira makes it look so effortless."

Morgana's tail drooped off the edge of the desk. "That hurts, Lady Ann!"

Ryuji, waiting ahead of her, grinned from his casual perch on another desk. "Have you been hearin' all this? It's like a whole different school! It's like we changed everyone's heart. The only ones who aren't talkin' about Kamoshida are talkin' about you, Ann. Looks like those weird rumors are gonna be a thing of the past."

She felt a smile tug at her mouth, but smothered it. "I don't care about that. Kamoshida came clean about Shiho. That's all I wanted." She glanced around, as if expecting Akira to pop out from behind her. He might have been able to see through her little fib, but Ryuji just grinned. Now that she had both, being vindicated from those disgusting rumors was wonderful.

"Yeah, sounded like that's all Akira wanted, too." He paused to glance at the door, then Morgana. "Where is he?"

Morgana sat and curled his tail around his legs. "Akira said he had something he needed to do and ran off. He looked less down in the dumps, but something's still definitely bothering him."

Crossing her arms, Ann thought back. "I wonder what he meant when he said I was right before he ran off."

Ryuji flashed a wide grin and clapped his hands together behind his head. "Well I'm callin' this tote success! One scumbag teacher down, and we didn't even mess up his mind!"

Their guide's gaze held at some indistinct point on the far fencing. "It's strange, though. That castle crumbled, but Kamoshida didn't have a mental shutdown. I was afraid something as drastic as a complete palace collapse might have done permanent damage."

Giving a slow blink, Ryuji threw the concern behind him. "Well, we took the Treasure and 'shida seems fine. As much as that d-bag can be."

Morgana's unfocused gaze held on the fence. "We persuaded the Shadow without killing it, and it went back to its real self. Maybe that's what we need to prevent our targets from having a mental collapse."

Ann crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her other foot, thinking back to that last, unnerving fight. "What about that sticky tar-stuff holding the crown to his head?"

Lowering his arms, Ryuji blinked. "The what?"

The cat shivered. "It was whispering. I could hear it when I cut it off. Near the end I wasn't sure if I was cutting the crown away from his head, or his head away from the crown."

Ann brushed a pigtail back over her shoulder. "Was it kind of like the masks we have?"

When Morgana failed to answer, Ryuji gave a momentary shudder. "Dude. Freaky." He looked her in the eye. "Anyway, I thought you were as gung-ho about takin' down Kamoshida as Akira. I'm surprised you didn't finish him off."

Hands clenching, she felt her heart rate kick up. "Killing him wouldn't have done anything for Shiho. He needed to suffer. Now that he knows what he's done, he'll beg forgiveness for the rest of his life." She forced her hands down, a cold satisfaction pooling in her gut. "There are fates worse than death."

Ryuji paled. "Shit, dude. Ma was right when she said hell has no fury like a woman."

A paw padding at her jacket drew her focus down to Morgana. "I think it means you're kind at heart, Lady Ann."

Ryuji crossed his arms and tried to look casual. "What I wanna know is why Kamoshida's the only one with a castle?"

Morgana turned a hooded gaze to Ryuji, some sense of 'this again' to it. "You mean a Palace? He's not."

Backing up, Ryuji's eyes went wide. "For real?"

Morgana flicked one ear. "Anybody with distorted desires can have a Palace."

Remembering earlier speculation, Ann took her left arm with her right. "Do… do you think Akira has one?"

"I think people who've awakened to their Persona can't have a Palace," Morgana answered, a glum quality to his voice that failed to soothe her concern. "To have a Persona, you have to come to an understanding… a connection with yourself. A Palace is a sign of disconnect."

Ryuji scratched his head and growled. "Man, Akira'd probably know somethin' about this. Why'd he have to up and ditch us today?"

Ann rolled her eyes at the childish theatrics. "We should probably lay low for a while anyway. Even if nobody else can find out what we did at his Palace, there's a lot of rumors going around about you and him. A lot of people think you two threatened Kamoshida."

Ryuji stood up on his feet. "The eff, man!"

Wednesday, 27 April 2016
Afternoon
Kanda Catholic Church

Pulling the door closed, Akira sat down on the padded stool in the Confessional booth. Although his heart had been steady when he ran from the train station, it refused to slow down now. He took a deep breath and looked at the shadows playing over the screen separating him from the priest. "Father, forgive me, for I have sinned. It has been… almost two months since my last Confession."

Father Sugiyama's sonorous voice floated into his half of the booth. "I am here to shepherd the flock. What troubles you, my son?"

Akira's eyes darted and he shifted on the padded stool, trying to decide how much to say.

"I tried to kill my gym teacher."

Once his mouth opened, words spilled from his lips and he couldn't even try to hold them back. "The whole fucking world came down on me like a sack of bricks! Same as back with that drunk prick with the stupid glasses. I'm not going around burning buildings down or robbing companies! I just wanna do the right thing. I don't even always know what that is. Inuri High, my old bastard, even the bitch I saved stabbed me in the heart! The judge didn't even go past that letter of condemnation from my old bastard before pronouncing me guilty. The one person who listened to me, the one idiot who encouraged me to keep trying in Tokyo was a cop. And then Kamoshida raped the only girl in my life who was kind to me!"

"Oh my," were the only words Father Sugiyama let slip, deep silence descending on the Confessional. Despite the concerned tone, the few words gave no clue whether the priest believed the student or not.

"I…" Akira lifted a hand, flexing his fingers and trying to reconcile the boy Officer Ichijou said could become a good man with the one who only left Kamoshida alive because his weapon ran out of ammo. "I've never liked who I am, but once everything with Kamoshida was done I realized I did everything wrong. Now he's in police custody and I still can't feel sure if that's a good thing."

"Well," Father Sugiyama said after a breath, tone contemplative. "You stood beside that Takamaki girl when she was in danger. I think that means you care about the people around you."

Akira wrapped his arms around his body. "Shiho wouldn't have wanted me to go kill Kamoshida. I just kept on trying to push the responsibility on her so I wouldn't have to think about it." He grit his teeth, remembering the pain in Ann's eyes as he tried to force them to keep going after fighting the faux angel. He felt a tear trail down his nose. "I kept pushing ahead because I wanted to hurt Kamoshida for taking her away from me." Akira ran a hand through his hair. "She wasn't even mine to have! You should've seen that smile she flashed at Mishima in the cafeteria. It was soft and affectionate and grateful." Sighing, he let the warmth of the memory wrap around him, though it felt constricting now. "No one's ever looked at me like that. Like they want me there."

"I think, my son, that you judge yourself too harshly." Father Sugiyama leaned back in the booth. "Yes, wrath is a vice you grapple with, but patience is something I think you will learn if you stick close to your friends. They may have troubles of their own, but they will help you find your way. Don't forget that you have your own strengths. I may not have known you for long, but between what Motoori has told me and what you have, you are strong in Charity."

Snorting, Akira crossed his arms. "Father, I can't deny I have vices, but virtues are a lie."

Father Sugiyama retorted, "That's your father talking."

"That bastard is not a father," Akira snapped, rising off the stool. "He doesn't deserve that title."

"Then don't be ruled by his misconceptions," Father Sugiyama riposted. "You may have joined the Church to get away from him, but you've learned too much to remain smothered in his shadow."

Akira settled back on the stool and huffed, but Father Sugiyama was right. Feeling cleansed and weary, the transfer student reached for the door. "Thank you, Father."

"Ah-ah," Father Sugiyama tisked. "I think you have a few Our Fathers first."