Persona 5: Daywatch

by Ganheim

Akira is banished to Tokyo by his own father. What begins as a near-suicidal quest for vengeance becomes a desperate attempt to turn the pieces of his life into an honest whole. Aided by clever strategists and opposed by supernatural puppeteers, one lost boy's quest for something greater clashes those who would think themselves gods over men, and demons within. AU elements.

19. April 27th, Networking

Persona 5: Daywatch

Wednesday, 27 April 2016
Early Evening
Yongen, Leblanc

Slipping his hands beneath the sink's sudsy water, his phone buzzed and Akira scrambled to dry his hands and see what the call was about. By the time he got the smart phone out, the group chat was already open and several texts blasted back and forth.

Ann began, [I went to tell Shiho about everything we did.]

Ryuji, [Awesome! What'd she say?]

Ann responded. [She's still in a coma. Her mom thanked me for the news about Kamoshida's confession. She was on the phone as I left. I bet she's planning on suing him.]

Akira brought up the keyboard to shoot out, [Serves that bastard right. He made that mess, he should pay for it.]

[What about you?] Ann texted. [You left in a big hurry.]

Akira paused to decide how to answer. [I've been carrying around too much baggage and I needed to talk to Father Sugiyama. Went to Confession for the first time since the incident with that woman and the drunk.]

Ryuji's ID popped up, three dancing dots indicating a message in progress for several seconds before he sent, [Hey, maybe we could change that drunk asshole's heart.]

Scoffing, Akira replied, [Why bother? He's probably some rich corporate industrialist who just can't handle his booze. I never even got his name.]

Ryuji passed that concern like a champ. [Oh, thought you might want to know. Lots of people at Shujin were talking about the calling cards, but almost everyone thinks it was just some prank from someone spying on Kamoshida.]

Akira shifted to lean his hip against the counter, remembering the easy banter between the others when they got out of the Palace. [What about that medal? Morgana said it wasn't Kamoshida's real medal, but I'd rather not leave it hanging around. I'm the 'keep memories, not mementos' kind of guy.]

Ann sent back with remarkable speed, [Let's sell it and have a celebration. Showa Day's coming up on Friday. Or we could have it at the end of Golden Week to charge us up for school!]

Akira typed out, [Or we could divide it into savings.]

Ryuji's next text came almost immediately. [Dude, can't you see the mood's heading to party town? You especially need to live it up!]

Morgana, reading from the stool, preempted Akira's retort. "Ryuji's got a point. You have a tendency to bottle everything up. You need to loosen up once in a while." The metaverse guide smiled. "And what better than to celebrate a job well done? Discussions among Phantom Thieves deserve to be held over the delicacies of luxury."

Akira huffed, but sent out, [Fine. I can see when I'm out voted. Where would we go? Ramen?]

[No way,] Ryuji shot back. [We can do that any time! It's gotta be something special. Especially since that medal should be worth thirty thousand yen.]

Ann texted with lightning speed. [I know just the place. You can even pay me back what you owe me from middle school.]

Ryuji wasted no time to protest, [No way I owe you thirty thousand!]

[Plus compounded interest…]

Akira chuckled. "There's a story there." He tapped away, [Focus, peeps. I'm up for Showa Day, any of you working then?]

[I'm good,] Ryuji returned.

Ann took a few seconds. [Nothing on the calendar from my agency.]

Akira shot out, [So where would we go?]

Silence held the group chat for a while before Ann answered. [There's a place Shiho and I have been wanting to go.]

Another second passed where Akira imagined a mournful sigh before Ryuji assented. [Well, I guess I do owe you, so I'll let you pick it.]

[Send me a text with the address and prices,] Akira sent out.

[Will do,] She answered.

Morgana flicked his tail. "But will the guy at the second hand shop down the corner buy those koban? He didn't have any jewelry or gold things hanging up."

Akira slipped the phone back in his pocket and returned to the sink. "And I don't want to unload much loot somewhere so close to where I live. But I bet he does know someone who'll buy. There's gotta be plenty of fences in Tokyo."

Wednesday, 27 April 2016
Night
Velvet Room

Akira opened his eyes with a gasp, greeted by dark velvet and a striped white-and-black uniform over his body. He let out a long breath and slumped against the slab as his racing heart slowed, fragments of a dream with Shiho echoing in his skull. The image of Shiho in nothing but Shujin's tight, red gym shorts, her arms bent at weird angles still had his panic response on overdrive. Akira pushed himself to his feet and looked around. After seeing Shiho splayed over the ground, the sight of a steel bunk and toilet seemed calming in comparison. Blue velvet carpeted the walls. Chains criss-crossed a door of iron bars.

"Congratulations," a deep voice slid smooth as silk from the center of the panopticon, "thief of hearts."

Hands still shaking from his prior dream, Akira kicked at the door. A ball weight on the chain he forgot was on his foot tripped him and he fell against the bars.

Justine snickered.

Heart still pounding from seeing Shiho broken on the ground, Akira turned his ire on her and drew his hands into fists. "I thought I told you I'm not a thief."

Caroline slammed her baton against the door, the metal ringing. "Shut your ungrateful mouth and listen, Inmate!"

Igor looked as unperturbed as ever as he capped a fancy-looking fountain pen. A hollow glass orb on a cylinder sat on the table just next to him. Six large iron needles thrusted down through holes in the cylinder, holding up a handful of marbles inside. "You have a special power, but it must be refined if you wish to use it to prevent the coming ruin. This shall be the rehabilitation you shall strive towards."

Akira banged a fist on the door and snarled, "I did it once, didn't I? I'll tear the evil out of human hearts, one bastard at a time."

Igor chuckled.

Justine shifted her clipboard to her other hand. "Do not look with narrow vision, Inmate, or you will miss important opportunities. The strength of many can cover the limitations of the one."

"A single man can do almost anything if he is willing to sacrifice anything, including himself," Igor said, his deep tone sedate but with an undertone of mirth for no reason Akira could guess. He clapped. "But you have chosen to bring others into your quest. What shape shall that take, hm?"

The short wanna-be-warden with a braid continued. "Cultivate every relationship you can."

Looking down at the diminutive twins calling themselves wardens, he couldn't hold in a laugh. "What do I need more power for? I took out Kamoshida, didn't I?"

Igor nodded and folded his hands together. "True, but not alone. You are already seeking out fellow thieves."

Caroline wagged her baton at Akira. "Those will be extra sources of power, Inmate."

Igor's wider-than-needed grin returned. "It is through contracts you gain the power to oppose impending ruin. Certainly a triumph to celebrate."

Akira gripped the bars and glared straight at Igor's unnatural calm. "How can you say that with the same toneless cool as a newscaster announcing mass casualties in an Indian riot?"

Caroline clanged her baton against the door. "Be grateful when our master deigns to pass words of praise on you!"

A beat passed before Igor added, "You have taken your first step into a more magnificent world. It shall be quite interesting to see where your path leads."

Thursday, 28 April 2016
Early Morning
Yongen, Leblanc

Sojiro paused behind the counter, looking down at Akira as he sat in a chair in the middle of the bar. "You sure look tired. Didn't you sleep?"

"I'm fine," Akira grumped.

Shrugging, the restaurateur set a plate of curry down in front of Akira. "They had a school on the news yesterday." He crossed his arms as if expecting something earlier and it being denied him. "Some teacher abusing students."

"Kamoshida," Akira said before digging into the curry.

Sojiro sighed and uncrossed his arms. "Look, just try to keep your head down. You've heard the old saying, nails that stick out—"

"Get hammered. Yeah, I know."

Thursday, 28 April 2016
After School
Yongen, Backstreets

A siren wailed in the distance, a gentle breeze blowing through the narrow streets of Yongen. The old man in his second-hand shop hummed and turned over the rounded gold coin in his fingers. "It's certainly a koban, probably a Genbu koban judging by the size, but it's also pretty badly damaged. I can't even be sure if it's a genuine article or one of the counterfeits made by smaller smithies later in the period." He glanced up at Akira, something about his gaze seeming not quite focused. "Where'd you say you got these?"

"Internet," Akira said. "I bought a bunch of lockboxes from online auctions. I figured these looked like real gold coins."

Hiromasa turned the coin over again. "Well, the gold's real enough, but I'm afraid I couldn't sell something like this." He lifted his arm at the hanging lamps around him. "I tend to go through instruments, small furniture or appliances. Things you can use. I may have been a coin collector by hobby, but I stay away from trading jewelry or coins at work. Too easy to get caught up in fakes."

Letting out a heavy breath, Akira rubbed his shoulder. "I suspected something like that. Nobody else in the area is interested in coins without a certificate of authenticity. Tokyo's too big a place for me to go hunting for a buyer for things like this or jewelry or whatever else the next lockbox might have."

Hiromasa set the koban on a stack with the other four. "Well, I don't know how much business he'll be willing to do, and you may have to do a favor or two for him before he trusts you, but I happen to know a fellow in Shibuya who seems to be able to sell anything. Doesn't ask too many questions either, which should be perfect if your boxes don't have those certificate things."

Akira brightened. "Really? That would be great." He recorded the address info, but paused at the mark on his map of Shibuya. "That's not too far off Central Street. Almost sounds familiar."

Hiromasa shrugged at the transfer student's muttering. "Owner's there almost every day but Sunday, you just have to catch him without any other customers around if you want to make your sale. Tell him Hiromasa recommended you."

Akira checked the time and slipped his phone in his pocket. "I better hurry if I'm gonna check it out today. Thanks." He took three of the koban, then walked away.

Thursday, 28 April 2016
Early Evening
Shibuya, Untouchable

A hot, humid breeze blew through the back streets of Shibuya. Akira looked up at the clouds turning gold and purple in the sinking sunlight, and down at his phone with the directions from the second-hand shop owner. He looked up at the last stretch, a familiar alley ahead of him. He was about to ask Morgana if this was the same place Ryuji brought them when he heard two adults skulking in the shadows to one side.

"Let's just take care of this," said one in a crisp, light grey suit.

The other man, wearing a neat, tan suit looking out of place in a shadowed back alley, stared at his phone and whispered, "We don't have the warrant yet. Let's not threaten the case by jumping the gun."

Maintaining a steady walking pace past them, Akira came to Untouchable, his navigator pointing straight at its door. "Well, son of a—"

Morgana poked his head out of the bag. "At least we're here. Let's get inside and finish before those weird guys notice us. The sooner we finish and get back home, the sooner you can throw away your leftovers."

Akira swallowed the angry lump in his throat and pushed the door open.

The store owner in a long coat looked up from a sporting goods magazine. "You again? I have to admit, you didn't strike me as a big enthusiast last time."

Akira pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the door. "Fuzz are outside, overheard one mention waiting on a warrant."

Grimacing, Long Coat shot to his feet. "Excuse me a second." He took long strides to the back. Rustling, then the bang of something metallic falling to the concrete floor rang out. After about a minute, he returned, holding a brown paper bag. "You got two thousand yen?"

"Yeah?" Akira looked at him askance.

Long Coat set the paper bag in the square hole in the grating across the counter. "Here, hand it over. I can even make change, I just need the cameras to show an exchange."

Akira eyed the shop owner for a moment, then pulled out his wallet. "I came here to sell, not buy. Hiromasa recommended you."

A momentary flash passed through Long Coat's eyes, but his face stayed grim. "Tell 'ya what, you come back tonight and I'll buy whatever it is. Just help me out now. Take it and go, just don't open it until you come back."

Akira pulled out two thousand-yen bills.

Still tucked in the satchel, Morgana hissed, "Akira, what are you doing?"

Akira set the bills on the counter and slid them in, then took the paper bag as the shop-owner pulled out one thousand yen in coins. "This is only—"

The door opened and the two men in suits walked in.

Akira took the bag, coins, and slipped them into his satchel, then settled it on his shoulders and waved at the shop-owner to keep up the act. "Thanks."

Long Coat nodded back, his smile stiff. "Pleasure doing business with you again. Come back soon."

The stern detective in a nice business suit made a beeline for the counter. "Iwai Munehisa?" He drew his badge fold from his coat. "We have a few questions we'd like to ask."

"Exit, stage left," Akira muttered as he headed for the door.

The detective in a grey suit stepped into Akira's path. "Hold up, you little shit. What's in the bag?"

Akira adjusted his glasses with his middle finger. "Schoolbooks, Prick-san."

Stomping into Akira's face, Grey Suit reached down for the satchel. "That's it, you fuckin' delinquent."

"Hey!" Morgana popped out and swiped at the detective's hand.

Grey Suit jerked his hand away, a vein on his forehead pulsing.

Iwai stood up. "Hey, detectives, if you've got a search or somethin' to conduct, my store's open. You can check the tapes if you want. But I'd appreciate if you wouldn't go harassing the clientele. That kind of thing tends to get reported to Internal Affairs."

Grey Suit snarled at Iwai. "Bastard." When Akira tried to take a step around, he stepped back in the way. "We have a warrant, and you tryin' ta leave with a brown sack right as we come in is plenty for probable cause."

He reached for Akira's shoulder, but Akira danced out of the way. "Keep your dirty paws off me."

Morgana shuffled in the satchel. "I resent that remark!"

Akira slung his school satchel down to his elbow. "Here. Try using words like an adult next time." He pulled out a crumpled brown sack.

Iwai clenched his fists.

Grey Suit opened the bag so fast it tore. He jerked his face away and held the bag away as if it contained a rotting head. "Ugh, natto."

Akira smirked. "Fermented beans, a healthy part of an afternoon meal."

Grey Suit growled but handed the bag back to Akira. "I think your natto's past its expiration. And I wouldn't go for that soda half-covered in it either."

Akira snatched the torn paper bag and looked inside. "You broke my natto?"

Iwai snickered.

Grey Suit stepped away from the door, a snarl on his face. "Just get out, you little shit."

Brown Suit rolled his eyes. "Enough with the kid. The tip said Iwai had contraband in the back."

Iwai gave a pointed smile. "You gotta do what you gotta do, Detective-san. You got a warrant?"

Brown Suit presented his smart phone. "We'll have a printed copy down here if you require it."

Iwai read for a moment, then handed the phone back. "I'm good. Aren't upstandin' citizens supposed to cooperate with the Law?"

Grey Suit stepped up to the window and slammed a fist down on the counter. "Watch that attitude!"

Akira slipped out the front door and threw the lunch bag with natto away.

The instant the door closed, Morgana poked his head up out of the satchel, eyes narrow. "What do you think you're doing? We came here to get money."

"It's called networking," Akira said, stepping around a fallen bicycle. "Iwai owes us."

Morgana sat down, ears flat against his head. "You'd better hope he's really that fence we were looking for." He ducked down into the satchel and a crinkling of paper sounded. "What's in this bag, anyway?"

Akira shook his shoulders to jostle Morgana. "Hey, not here in the open." He stepped out to central street proper and grimaced at the crowds heading left and right on the street. "Well, might as well hit the diner for some studying."

Morgana grumbled. "With what? You gave most of your money to that gun store owner."

"I can still get a cup of lame coffee for less than a thousand yen."

Thursday, 28 April 2016
Evening
Shibuya, Untouchable

Akira pushed open the door and shuddered against the heavy air conditioning. He walked in the model gun and military surplus store, noting Iwai straighten behind the counter.

Iwai sniffed, eyes narrowing but one corner of his mouth quirking up. "Well, you're back sooner than I thought."

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Akira trotted to the counter window. "I don't scare easy. Everyone I know would tell me I've got more guts than brains." He unslung his school satchel and reached in for a stained hand cloth, then set it on the counter and unfolded the tied cloth package. "I understand you wanted to buy this."

Iwai adjusted the brim of his cap, looking down at the Olympic gold medal. "You sure don't waste any time."

"Your time is valuable," Akira responded, standing straight. "So is mine. And those fake silencers you handed me in the bag with the fake gun."

Iwai chuckled. "So you looked inside."

Akira set his satchel on the ground, letting Morgana hop out to scout the front area of the store. He brought out the paper bag Iwai gave him earlier and set it on the counter. "I've played the mule before, but I'm not stupid."

Iwai picked up the medal and flipped it to look at the reverse. "I seem to remember hearin' about some teacher who used to be an Olympic athlete gettin' in trouble. This wouldn't happen to be hot goods, would it?"

Eyes narrowing, Akira let his fists curl. "I am not a thief." He crossed his arms, searching his memory for what Ryuji claimed it was worth. "So how's thirty thousand yen?"

Iwai set the paper bag behind the counter, tossed the stained hand cloth aside and set the medal in the middle of the counter, then took out his phone and took a picture of it. He tapped away at his smart phone for a few moments, then read for about a minute. "How's twenty…" Iwai looked up at the transfer student. "You know what? You were pretty quick on the uptake today. Clever about that switch, too. You got your thirty thousand yen." He opened the cash register, counted out a hefty stack, then handed over the yen notes and closed the register.

Akira took them. There was networking to do. "So are we just leaving things here?"

Iwai smirked and scanned Akira's face and stance. After a moment, the shop owner stood. "Why don't we talk in the back?" He stepped away, then a clunk sounded and the heavy steel door in the back marked STAFF swung open. Akira followed him into what looked like a craft shop with plastic storage bins cramming two walls. Iwai dropped his show smile and stopped at the corner, then crossed his arms and looked over the transfer student again. "So what's your angle?"

"I'm no friend of the fuzz." Akira slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned against a steel shelf laden with plastic bins. "Think of me as a concerned enthusiast."

Iwai chuckled. "Well, you've got guts and you've got wiles, I gotta give ya that. You lookin' to offload more… found items or were you tryin' for some of those customizations you heard me mention to Little Man?"

"Both," Akira said as he glanced around for some sign of Morgana. "You heard anything about the drug trade in the area?"

Frowning, Iwai's crossed arms tightened. "I wouldn't touch that shit with a five meter pole." He sat down on a stool in front of a workbench with several power tools scattered across it and let out a heavy breath. "Listen, I'm not a bad dude. Sure, I've been known to compromise – I mean, I gotta look out for my own. That may mean I'll come across hot items, but there are some lines I don't cross whether it's China White or pills that 'fell off the back of the truck'."

Akira held up his hands. "I'm not sayin' you're involved, I just wanted to know what's up here in Shibuya. One of my friends is caught up and I need to help find a way out." He looked over Iwai, noting none of the tell-tale signs of lying. He seemed as trustworthy as a shady shop owner could be. "I think we can make a deal."

Iwai chuckled, a thin smile forming. "You're not bluffin'. Okay. I can only move so much merchandise at a time, so I can't exactly buy anything else like that medal for a few days, but if you want to purchase some more model guns or modify the ones you got, I can help you out." He straightened his cap. "But you gotta help me out, too. It may involve more quick hands and quick thinkin' like today."

Akira straightened. "Even angels have been known to use darkness."

Iwai's smile widened. "Heh. You get it, kid. I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Here, give me your number and I'll give you a ring if another job comes up."