Persona 5: Daywatch

Thursday, 2 June 2016
Evening
Shibuya, Station Square

The Phantom Thieves stumbled into the writhing mass of humanity streaming to and from Shibuya Station. Next to him, Makoto tripped, her foot twisting and her hands thrown wide in a vain attempt to catch herself. When Akira grabbed her arm to help her, she yelped and pulled away.

Ann came to a stop next to them, dragging a gold briefcase. "You okay?"

Glancing out at the others, Makoto accepted Akira's help to her feet, though still let slip a pained grimace. "I don't think anything's broken."

A yowl shot through the crowd, then Morgana dashed through the swift movement of the crowd's legs. His eyes came to a stop on the gold briefcase, though his tail remained high and twitching. "Oh, good, you guys have the Treasure." He paused to look up and around. "Too many eyes. We should find a private place to open it up and find out exactly what his Treasure is."

Akira glanced at the student council president leaning on him, her eyes squinted in pain. "First thing we should do is get you to the doctor."

Morgana's ears twisted this way and that before he sat, looking up at Ann. "Can you keep the Treasure safe for a while?"

Ann nodded. "It's heavy as hell, but it's also got rollers so I can drag it home."

Akira knelt to let Morgana in his school satchel, then offered Makoto an arm and aimed for the train station. The smell of burnt meat wafted through his nostrils and he flinched in disgust. The red sky faded into purple, though with all the lights of the city the throngs walking through the streets seemed more like Shadow silhouettes to him.

Makoto let out a pained wimper, and when he loosened his grip she led the pair to the closest bench she could find. A pair of tourists came up to the statue of Hachiko, snapping photos and chatting as they walked without hesitation into the seething mass of humanity.

Akira pulled his hands away from the upperclassman. "I'm just making things worse, aren't I?"

She grimaced, holding a hand to her chest. "It's okay. Despite my own attempts to keep up, I just don't seem to have it in me to walk the walk."

He raised an eyebrow, looked through the crowd, then spied the shiba statue and looked back to her. While they sat, he poked into his satchel for the hot compress and gave it to her. "You're talking about back then, aren't you?"

Morgana poked his head out of the bag. "Back then?"

"A brief run-in Akira-kun and I had last Sunday." Pressing the compress against her chest, Makoto nodded. "I'm sorry I was so short with you that day. I made you take valuable time out of your busy schedule to try to find out more about the rest of the student body. I was insulted that you invited me to share your walk and rejected it out of hand because it was… well, almost all your suggestions were illegal. Even if you might not be the representative of the average person yourself, you were still trying. And the next time we needed to fight through Kaneshiro's bank, you set all of what I said aside like it never happened."

He shook his head. "I shouldn't have said most of the things I did. You're being genuine about wanting to understand people better, and 'it's what I know' is not a good excuse when that's not the kind of Akira I want to be." His phone buzzed and he pulled it out to check the text. Hifumi sent him a message nearly two hours ago saying she was ready to tutor him. He let out a morose breath and sent back, [Sorry, Togo-san. Had an emergency that couldn't wait.]

Makoto looked away, pink touching her cheeks. "I wasn't even big enough to give you the benefit of the doubt you automatically gave me. I should've known back then you weren't being totally serious." She reached her right hand across to offer a handshake, but winced and clutched her torso with her other hand, dropping the hot compress.

He snatched it and pressed it against her back until she could maneuver her arm to hold it. "My old bastard made everyone else walk on eggshells around him, I shouldn't be repeating his mistakes. I should be helping you. I mean I will." He paused to scrutinize her hunched posture. "You got battered pretty hard by those oni. I wouldn't be surprised if you've got pulled muscles besides the bruising we all probably took." He shifted to face her straight-on. "Takemi might have some muscle relaxants and anti-inflammatories."

A thud drew their attention and Ann picked the gold briefcase back up, at least as much as she could without the strength to get it off its roller-wheels. She looked between the transfer student and president. "You two move fast."

Eeping, Makoto shot back to a straight sit on the bench. Her angry blush didn't help her protestation. The hot pack flopped to the bench. "N-no! Nothing of the sort, Takamaki-kun!"

Akira shot his oldest fellow Phantom Thief a flat glare. "I'm trying to make use of my medical knowledge, Ann-san. Looks like we'll have to stop by the doctor's."

"Right, right," she said with a grin, though her entire posture looked weird due to the golden briefcase not letting her stand straight. "Well, don't let me interrupt you two." She paced into the crowd and disappeared through a turnstyle.

"Actually," Makoto said, coming to her feet with her face twisted with pain. "I think I'll take you up on that offer to stop by the doctor. I didn't want to say anything earlier and risk letting Kaneshiro get away, but I may not have been completely over the strains from yesterday."

"It's no good burning yourself out," Akira reproached, helping the president down the stairs and into the train, but when she didn't retort he let silence hang between them until they passed Leblanc. "Hold up. I need a minute at my place. I promised I would bring the doc some caffeine last time I brought Ann up." He pushed open the door, but paused when he saw Sojiro look up from polishing mugs. Akira gave a nervous wave. "Uh… Hi. I kind of owe Doctor Takemi a pot of coffee. I accidentally gave her a decaf last time."

Sojiro set the mug and polishing rag down with a humph. "You'd better not make a mistake like that again. Coffee is our primary item. Oh, and your mistake… your money."

Akira grimaced, but flinched when he bit his tongue to try to hold down his anger. That was going to bleed for a while longer. He pulled out his wallet, then a few yen notes. "Fine. Can I get the ice pack for Senpai?" He gestured to Makoto, who followed him inside.

The proprietor yanked open the freezer and pulled out a rubber ice pack. "I wondered who put that thing in there." He tossed it across the counter, quirking an impressed eyebrow when Akira caught it with one hand. Pulling out a battered thermos, he looked at the pair of Shujin students. "I hope you kids aren't getting involved in anything. Anyway, it's getting rather late. I'll be open for a little while, but don't you have families and dinner to be getting to?"

Makoto's eyes fell to the table, her fingers tracing minute circles on its surface as her shoulders sank.

Akira leaned against the booth seat opposite the class president. "You worried about getting in trouble for staying out? Real helicopter mom and pop?"

She let out a sigh. "The opposite, really. I don't even know if Sae would notice me being late. She's been keeping so busy with work, we hardly talk even when she's home."

Sojiro paced down the lane. "I'm sorry to hear that, kiddo. It's no fun going through life with family too busy to, well, be a family."

Akira gave him a look askance. "What do you mean, 'be a family'? Family's just people related by genes. Everyone's busy taking care of themselves."

Sojiro thumped the transfer student in the arm with the filled thermos. "Family's the core and foundation of every society on earth, kiddo. Now c'mon, if you're gonna bring a nice girl into a cafe, you commiserate. Say how sorry you are to hear her mom's busy."

Snatching the battered thermos with both hands, Akira shot a dirty look at Sojiro. "Why? I'm not the one keepin' her at the lab."

Makoto shook her head. "It's okay. She's my big sister, though she does have to put up with quite a bit of a burden between her job and taking care of me. I try to do things around the home like cooking, but sometimes I wonder if it's really enough to make up for it all."

Sojiro gave the transfer student a light elbowing. "See? Taking on life and rising above the problems with good life skills like mom's home cooking. Even you did that, I've seen you preparing your lunches."

Akira rolled his eyes. "Nobody was there to teach me, I taught myself how to cook. If I didn't do it myself, it didn't get done."

Morgana sighed from the bag. "Joker…"

Makoto reached out a hand to her fellow Shujin student for help to her feet, but she kept her eyes on his. "Come on, they may not all be good, but everyone's mom does at least some cooking."

Akira gave her a flat look. "No, not everyone's mom cooks. I don't think mine so much as set foot in a kitchen. The best thing she ever did for me was locking me out that August night when I met Big K." He tugged his school jacket straight, a small wince escaping his control. "Come on, let's get you to the doc."

His phone buzzed, but when she drew hers as well, he guessed that it was the group chat. He pointed to the door. "I'll join you guys in chat later. Doctor first."

Leaving the lukewarm compress, she leaned on his support out of Leblanc, but slowed down before reaching the main lane. The searching look she gave him raised his hackles, but she continued heedless. "You really…don't have any moments with your mother that you cherish? No favorite books or dishes she introduced you to?"

Akira picked up the pace. "Why is it that everyone thinks a mother is some fantasy wish-giving thing? Moms are people just like all the other self-interested people out there. Hell, mine wasn't even into family holidays. The only time I remember her and the old bastard under the same roof was for some gala with rich bigwigs they wanted to show off to."

"Oh." Makoto looked down, shamefaced for some reason as her pace slowed. "Your parents are separated. I'm sorry."

He gave her an arched eyebrow. "Why? You didn't do it. And them livin' separate places was the only thing that gave me hope I'd get away from the old bastard."

Makoto looked to his face, but her gaze fell the instant their eyes met. "My mom was kind of busy – she kept up her job at the county clerk's office, but she did things with us every day. Taught Sae and I to cook and how to keep food warm for those nights dad was late. She was even going to teach me how to sew, but I always ended up too busy with studying to take her up on it before she died."

He let out a long breath, but took the moment to think. "I guess I remember Big K sayin' his ma did the same thing for him." He paused to open the door to the Takemi Medical Clinic. "The most I can do is replace buttons and patches for holes in a pocket." He set the battered thermos on the window, declaring from deep in his belly, "I come bearing coffee."

Takemi looked at Makoto, still leaning on his right arm. "And more bruises, I'm sure." She reached for the thermos. "You kids need to find a safer hobby."

Akira feigned horror. "And give up parkour? Where will we get our running exercise?"

The doctor gave him a bored stare for several seconds before she unscrewed the cap and poured a cup of coffee. "So which one first?"

"You—" Makoto began.

"No, you're actually hurt. I just got bumped a bit." Gesturing Makoto to the exam room, Akira sat down in the lobby and checked the group chat to find out what the buzzing earlier was about. Ann and Ryuji had been discussing the battle against Kaneshiro, then speculating what was inside the gold briefcase.

Morgana popped up to read along. "Tell them not to break anything. You have a light touch, and it took you weeks to master the tension wrench."

Akira smirked, taking it for as much praise as he could expect. "You have high standards." Settling back into the chair, he added his own prediction, [500 yen it's only got IOUs.]

Ryuji shot back. [Dude, you're totally spoiling the mood. Did you even snatch any cash while I wasn't in there?]

[Kinda had other priorities, Ryuji,] the transfer student sent.

Ann texted, [Yes, we all took cognitive money out. I'm kind of scared to try spending it, even though it looks the same as regular money.] After a moment, she added, [Makoto mentioned stopping at Leblanc on the way to Doctor Takemi. Is everything okay, Akira?]

[She's in with the doc at the moment. And it's probably smart not to go throwing his money around, it might share numbers with notes already in circulation.]

Ryuji sent, [Prez will be fine. Her Persona's like a motorcycle tank.]

Akira straightened in his seat when he heard the exam doorknob rotate. [Catch you all at school tomorrow.]

Friday, 3 June 2016
After School
Shujin, Class 2-D

Finishing the essay for literature class, Akira capped his pen and looked up. Only two other students remained, also getting a head-start on homework. Having no idea if they were paying attention, he whispered, "Where'd Ann go?"

Morgana cracked open an eye, tip of his tail twitching. "She went with your class representative." He blinked, his eyes narrowing. "Somebody needs to keep an eye on them."

Akira set the last book into his satchel. "Please tell me you're not going to sabotage our best infobroker," he whispered. "He's her friend." That being said, Ann still seemed off since last week. With no clue whether she straightened things out with Mishima, after letting the team leader slip into his school bag, Akira stood up and headed for the Phantom Thieves' meeting location.

Wrist brace still restricting his motion, he opened the door to the roof with his left hand. Ann's voice and pacing came to a swift halt and she looked up from her rain-stained seat. An awkward energy crackled in the air. Mishima leaned back against the fence, slipping his hands in his pockets, eyes falling from Ann to the planters with tomato stalks.

After letting out a frustrated breath, Ann took a deep breath to steady her breathing. "Sorry about taking so long, Akira. I was just trying to figure out something about guys with Yuuki."

Well, Akira never claimed to be a good source for anything. "Sorry I'm not much help. I wasn't even the one who found Kaneshiro's name."

Ann rolled her eyes and flicked one pigtail off her shoulder. "Men. You're all goddamn impossible." She threw her hand out. "Why are you guys always trying to pick up the whole Earth like nobody else is there to carry it too?"

Morgana popped up out of the satchel. "It's a complicated world out there, Lady Ann. I was thinking of gathering the Phantom Thieves to go after more Shibuya thugs in Mementos, but I'd be happy to teach you how real gentlemen think."

Akira set his satchel on the nearby desk. "Might as well give it a try. Even if he's weird himself, he's spent a long time in the Metaverse. That should mean insights to how people's subconscious works."

Her eyes flicked to the class representative, narrowing for a long moment before twitching back to Akira's. Ann let out a sigh. "Fine. I need some chocolate anyway."

Morgana's tail swished and he smirked up at the transfer student. "I'll see you back at Leblanc." Tail held high, he hopped into Ann's offered bag and they departed.

Akira shrugged, but Mishima's eyes followed Ann until the door closed. When it thumped the door frame, he dragged his eyes to the baby plants and wiped at the shamed blush on his cheeks. "C…could we talk?"

Akira brushed off and set up another chair at the corner of the desk closest to Mishima. Akira plopped into the other seat. "Step into my office."

When Mishima only sat down with a quirk at the corner of his mouth, the transfer student knew things were serious. People loved to groan. After fiddling with his hands for a moment, he still couldn't look any closer to Akira than the desk. "You said before that you're Catholic, right? What's the Church say about loyalty?"

Akira fumbled in his pocket for a microfiber cloth. "Loyalty is all all over the Bible. The First Commandment is to be loyal to God first, that everything comes after Him." He took off his glasses to wipe the lenses. "To be honest, it's damn hard. Humans are hardwired to think of ourselves first. Perceptually, each individual is the center of his universe. Your self is where all your information comes from."

Mishima's fidgeting with his hands was large enough for the transfer student to see despite not having his glasses on. "What about if you made a promise? Like, to always be there for someone." Glasses back on, Akira could see Mishima's fingers grip the sides of his chair hard enough to make the knuckles turn white. "I promised Shiho I'd do anything for her. That I'd always be there for her, for the rest of my life." He gulped down a breath. "And since Shiho was such good friends with Ann… I never thought that would complicate anything."

Akira put away his cleaning cloth. "You and Ann get into a fight?"

Mishima let go of the chair and wrapped his arms around himself. "Worse than that. I…" He drew in a shuddering breath. "I took advantage of her. She was so disgusted with me she ran. We couldn't even talk about it today. If you could call it talking at all."

Akira scratched his scalp. His story sounded rather different from Ann's. "Walk me through it. Where'd this start?"

Staring away, his finger traced nervous circles in the desk top. "Class just ended, and Ann wanted to talk. She was telling me about how you guys just got into that yakuza boss's mind palace. I've always been such a boat anchor on everyone else, I just wanted you guys to have one less thing you have to worry about." He drew in a shuddering breath. "But I couldn't even do that. She started saying something angry…"

His breath rattled, his eyes glistening. "I smelled that peach-scented shampoo like Shiho always used to use and leaned in, and felt her hand on my knee." Mishima jerked in his seat, his bloodshot eyes locked on Akira's. "For a second I didn't even remember it wasn't Shi-chan I was kissing …" A tear slipped out.

Akira scratched his scalp. "Mishima-san, I've never had a girlfriend. And my family gave me little but bad examples. I feel like this whole issue is something I'm uniquely unqualified to help with. If I tell you that you screwed up, I feel like I'm sounding like my dick-head old bastard who loved putting people down when they were doing their best. If I say you're just two peeps looking for warmth in each other, that sounds like my mother making excuses." He spread his hands. "None of it sounds right, but I don't even know what it's like to have one person to go to. Much less two."

Mishima stood up, knocking his chair to the ground. "Would you cheat on someone you promised to be with forever?"

A cold settled over his body and Akira folded his hands in his lap. Was it even right for someone like him to want someone like that? With all his problems? Akira pushed his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose. Mishima needed help now. "No, but… I think Ann trusts you even more than me. I seriously doubt she's angry at you so much as worried for you." He straightened his glasses.

The class representative stared, though something changed in his visage. Whatever it was, Mishima wiped at his face and stood with a stony expression. "You're right."

Akira extended a hand to help his class representative to his feet. "Come on, let's get a couple cans of TaP and tea."

Friday, 3 June 2016
Evening
Shibuya, Ore no Beko Beef Bowl

Akira clasped his hands behind his back and nodded at the manager still prattling on about timeliness. He bit his tongue to keep from snapping back about how meaningless ten minutes was. That the manager saw him coming from the arcade only made him angrier. No point arguing that he ducked into the arcade to escape from the crowds, not play games.

"We need people who put the business first. If you can't take your duty to Ore no Beko properly," the balding man shouted, "then you can take your lackadaisical attitude and find somebody else. This is your last paycheck."

The door from the kitchen swung open and one of the college-aged workers rushed to desk for the box of paper towels underneath. "Another party of four ordering Huo Guo Rou bowls, boss."

Baldie growled, but yanked on an apron and stormed through the door.

College Kid looked at the transfer student with a half-suppressed wince. "Don't take what he says personally, he's one of them managers stuck on how things used to be in nineteen-eighty." He tossed the roll of paper towel from hand to hand. He gave a show smile, though it strained a little wider than his genuine emotion. "You could always put his name on the Phansite. Have the Phantom Thief take away his bad management style."

Akira adjusted his glasses. "You're a believer in the Phantom Thief?"

College Kid's smile relaxed. "Dude, I know he exists." The smile dimmed a little. "Can you keep a secret?"

Akira picked up his school satchel, noting the team leader snoozing in it. "Yep."

College Kid's smile brightened again. "I've been clean since May thanks to the Phantom Thief. I thought I was on my way out of everythin' in life until Marai – my dealer – had a change of heart."

Akira's hands tightened on the satchel straps.

College Kid held up his hands. "No, really. Like that coach change of heart. Went 'round apologizin' to all of us he was cuttin' his stuff for, then turned himself in the next day." College Kid threw his hands wide. "It's like everything in my life is better. I could show up to work every day and Old Fogie," he gestured at the kitchen, "stopped hasslin' me. I'm studyin' every mornin' and I think I'm even gonna pass my last finals." He threw a friendly jab at the transfer student's shoulder, only for Akira to dance a step back out of reach.

"Well… good for you, but now I gotta figure out a new way to take care of myself," he said, returning to the streets crammed with assholes. He hung back at the train station, sending a text to Hifumi just in case she had time.

[Sorry, busy on an errand today.]

Hope dashed, Akira took to the trains packed like sardines, until getting to the blissfully quiet back streets of Yongen. Despite the relative silence – as much as Tokyo ever seemed to get – his mind still buzzed. Why couldn't he even come up with a straight, simple answer for Mishima?

Knowing he wouldn't be getting to sleep any time soon, Akira browsed the back roads for a bit, stopping at Hiromasa's second-hand shop. He eyed the electric guitar for a little while, but despite juvenile fantasies he knew he couldn't play and it would just collect dust in the loft. With Shujin remaining a hostile environment and no good bookstores yet to lounge in, he had to have local options. "How big is that CRT?"

Hiromasa leaned on his cane and followed the transfer student's gaze to the larger old-style television sitting on an antique table in the back of the shop. "Oh, that's a 32-type. Bought that from the Suzukis when they moved out of the flats more'n a year ago." He pointed to the small apartment building between the supermarket and walled houses where he first tried looking for Sojiro. "Nice couple. Moved out when his girlfriend got pregnant and they had to get married. It works fine, but I'm sure a youngun like you wouldn't be interested in such a clunker."

Akira fumbled to pull his wallet out with his one good hand. "I would if it came with a digital converter. I've got the budget of a student with a part-time job, not a parent making five hundred thousand yen a year."

The old man rubbed his chin. "Tell you what. If you really want to buy the TV, I'll order a new digital converter and have it delivered to you." His eyes fell to the velcroed tension brace on the transfer student's wrist. "I'll even have someone deliver the TV."

"Sounds like a deal," Akira said, pulling out the yen and taking a signed receipt from the old man.

Business done, Akira headed into Leblanc. The high-pitched jingling from the bell hit his ears like a spike. He sat down at the bar and picked lint out of the velcro on the wrist brace Takemi gave him yesterday.

Rhythmic chopping at a wood cutting board greeted him, Sojiro keeping his eyes on a half-cut apple. "You're back early. Aren't you working at that beef bowl place now?"

Setting his school bag against a stool, Akira drew the journal and sat, then started summarizing the portions he didn't mind social services finding out about. "They fired me. Said I had too little availability. I was a few minutes late." He fidgeted with his hands. "I ducked into the arcade to get a breath away from the crowd, and the boss thought I was messing around in there." He spat at the ground.

Sojiro's knife stilled and he looked the transfer student over, eyes coming to rest on the hand still wrapped up in a black wrist brace. "I'm sorry to hear that. Some managers can lose touch with the life their workers are living." Instead of going back to cutting, he held the boy's gaze for an uncomfortable second. "Do you feel like you're starting to get used to the Tokyo crowds?"

Akira shook out his right hand, then flinched when the rapid motion caused a spike of pain through his forearm. "Not really." He looked down at his journal, seeing the half-written sentence about playing Gun About with Makoto. With him and Ryuji, it was all training, a race to the elusive goal of perfection. Makoto, the girl he thought was born with a stick up her ass, threw herself into the activity and laughed. He'd forgotten it was a game. "You ever have someone that you're completely certain about, you put her in some box, and then the situation changes or maybe just a new day starts and you realize you were way off base?"

He expected Sojiro to snark back at him or throw some back-in-my-day platitude, but instead the middle-aged businessman set his knife on the cutting board and braced his hands on the counter beside it. "I do wonder some times. Then dupes like Isshiki's brother just restore my faith in first impressions. That ever happen when you met an aunt or—no, right, Doctor Kurusu didn't have any siblings." He picked up the knife and slid the cubed apple into a metal bowl. "Do you?"

"No."

Sojiro straightened. "Cousins? Anything?"

Clenching his teeth, Akira lifted his fountain pen from the journal. "If I had any family to go to, don't you think I'd have gone their way years ago?" Thinking back to his first day in Tokyo, he remembered Sojiro insinuating he only took him in as a favor to Isshiki. "Was that a big thing for Isshiki? I didn't see her all that often. The old bastard really didn't like her."

Sojiro chuffed in a manner that left it unclear if he was amused or just contemplating a distant memory. "Hm. She never talked much about him."

Akira chuckled.

"What?" Sojiro paused, arm raised to a shelf of spices.

Akira lifted his fountain pen away from the journal. "There's something satisfying about the idea that the old bastard wasted hours of his life hating a person who barely knew he existed." He drummed his fingers on the counter. "Why did you choose to take me in? I know you were never that close to my old bastard, even if his money's good enough."

Sojiro set down a pair of cylindrical metal containers with their contents labeled on tape. "Well, Isshiki mentioned you. Saw you at the institute a couple times and said she was worried about you, so I guess there's a bit of last wishes there. That and Officer Ichijou asked me to give you a safe roof to live under. Kid came here a lot while she was attending police academy, and she knew I wasn't using the loft. No idea how she got Doctor Kurusu to go along with it, though." He pulled out a thin rubber sheet to help grip the metal cylinder's lid. "It's a pity you never had much of a family life growing up. It changes your outlook. Helps you define yourself."

Akira scratched down the rest of his daily entry. "Yeah. Constantly bumming off your hard work. Blaming you for tracking mud in the house when your jerkass little sister was the one who did it. Going into debt and putting you on the hook for it. Doing something stupid that gets you fired." He capped his pen. "I heard all about what family's like from other people. No thanks."

Frowning, Sojiro pulled a set of long metal measuring spoons from a drawer under the counter. "There's plenty of things that families do besides that. Teaching you to shop so you're not taken in by disingenuous advertisements, or budget so you're not dependent on others to do your accounting for you. Helping cover for you when you're sick. Taking trips to the beach."

Akira snorted and glanced up at the pale restaurateur. "When's the last time you've gone to the beach with a girl?"

Sojiro jerked, spilling some yellow powder from a mounded measuring spoon all over the counter. "Dammit! Look what you made me do!"

Blinking, Akira wondered why that of all things made the middle-aged playboy angry.

Something patting at his leg drew his gaze to the floor where Morgana sat. "It sounds like this conversation's going nowhere. We'll have an opportunity to go into Mementos tomorrow to clean up more of Kaneshiro's mafia. You should get some rest."

Akira flipped the journal closed and headed up to his room. When his mind refused to slow down, he sat at the desk, trying to stay ahead of studying.