Persona 5: Daywatch

Thursday, 16 June 2016
After School
Shujin, Front Entrance

Fumbling a little with his left arm still in a sling, Akira leaned against the shoe lockers to straighten his heel with his one good hand. Before he could get his other shoe off, his phone buzzed. A text from Makoto to the group chat apologizing for being held up with student council business. He shrugged and fought his other shoe on, tucking in the laces, then followed Mishima out the front gates. A flash of blond pigtails brought them to a stop. "Hey, Ann. What's up?"

Even Mishima paused the incessant tapping on his phone and glanced up. Ann clasped her hands behind her back, making her breasts push against her shirt. The class rep blushed, and both boys averted their eyes, but Ann continued without any sign she noticed their discomfort, "Since we're not going anywhere," her blue eyes glanced to his sling, up, then to Mishima, "did you guys want to check out Madarame's exhibit?"

Morgana popped his head out of Akira's satchel, devastation in his voice, "No… he couldn't. Don't tell me that shady Yusuke guy's stolen your heart, Lady Ann."

"What?" She drew back, disappointment as well as anger in her tone. "No! I was just noticing with your sling, there's nothing more we can do… there. So we should do something in the real world." She handed them two tickets. "Madarame had pretty nice artwork in that TV special. I mean, Kitagawa already gave the tickets."

Akira shrugged. "I still think we'll find more targets in Mementos, but there was this homeless artist I ran across who said Madarame drove him out of the art world. Maybe there are more clues in the real world." Between Takemi's and Morgana's orders, he was out of combat until the sling was gone. At least last evening with Hifumi gave him something to challenge himself on.

Mishima stepped closer to give departing students more room, and tapped a knuckle against his lip in thought. "Might also give a lead that you guys can't get in Mementos. Most of the articles I find on the internet only go on about what a nice or eccentric guy Madarame is, or how amazing his scope of style is. Even the article on one of his students committing suicide by train last May was filled with commiseration. And the only thing I could find about the apprentice guy was an article from Kosei High's Gazette about their art scholarship recipients this year. Super aloof, but also no sign of foul play."

Morgana popped out of Akira's bag, paws on the transfer student's shoulders. "I believe Joker. If he says there's something fishy about Madarame, then the old man's just hiding his crimes behind closed doors."

Akira pulled the chat up on his phone. "Makoto might want to go. That seems more her scene." He tapped a quick invite, adding the location and time.

Ann smirked. "Thinking of taking her out for a night on the town?"

The transfer student blinked, unsure how to place her tone. "Makoto's just a very reliable teammate. I've only been to history or science museums through school, so she might actually know what's up."

Ryuji trotted out of the front gate, making a beeline for Ann. He gave a brief wave to the others. "Somethin's up?"

Akira switched his phone to his sling-hand and held up the ticket Ann gave him. "Art exhibit, Ryuji. Remember? The one Kitagawa gave tickets for on Monday?"

Morgana brushed at one ear with his paw. "Appreciating fine art builds character, Reaper. This could be an excellent team-building event. What kind of lame phantom thief couldn't tell an original from a replica?"

The transfer student's phone buzzed and he ignored the bickering to read Makoto's reply. [I'd love to see an art exhibit. I haven't been to one since dad died. How many of his apprentices will be there?]

"Makoto's in," Akira blurted into the argument. When Ann cringed, he gave her a raised eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"He only gave me four tickets," Ann said. "I didn't even think about Senpai."

Morgana stretched out on Akira's shoulder. "Well, I think Reaper should definitely come. He is in desperate need of culture."

"I bet he has plenty between his toes," Akira said with aplomb.

Ryuji bared his teeth to reinforce his glare. "Aw c'mon. I wash my feet after runnin'. At least the cat don't know better."

Morgana's tail stood straight out. "I am not a cat!"

Mishima raised one eyebrow.

"It's affectionate bickering," Akira said, "I assure you."

"Based on the gaps in your conversation," the class representative said, his eyebrow arch receding, "I'm sure he's got to be saying something. But I'm not sure if it's any better to argue like bitter siblings in a Korean soap opera or get into a shouting match with a cat who can't talk back."

"Ah, whaddeva!" Ryuji spat. "Stupid you and your cat."

"Claws!" Akira snapped at the hint of sharp points in his shoulder. Once the team leader settled back down, Akira checked her question and texted the student council president back, [I think just Kitagawa, the guy who gave us the tickets.] He added a note that the team was antsy to get going. That done, he slipped his phone back in his pocket. "So Makoto's going. I'm not texting her back to cancel. She can have my ticket if you all want in, it's not like I need to see an art gallery. Ann's got to go, she's the reason he gave us the tickets." He paused and looked her in the eye. "Unless you want us to tell him to buzz off on your behalf?"

"No! I want to go." She twirled her finger through the tip of a pigtail. "Just the idea sounds mature," she finished with a smile.

Ryuji scratched his head. "What's the big deal about a buncha pictures stuck on a wall? That sounds like starin' at ma's screen saver all day."

Groaning, Akira brushed his free hand through his hair. "Then go investigate Shibuya or look for The King on Gun About or something. We'll investigate the art exhibit. Four tickets, four people, problem solved." His phone buzzed. "Makoto says she'll be done in fifteen. This is good, you guys can take a dive even if I have to sit today out."

Ann's eyes widened. "We can't go without you!"

"You can and should," Akira said, walking them to the vending machine nook outside the front gates. "We need a big win to prove to the world the Phantom Thieves are just crusaders, not criminals pushing out criminals." He lifted his arm in a sling and frowned at the feeling of stiffness resisting motion. "I may be out of commission today, but with Makoto you still have four. That should be enough for a good dive through Mementos."

Morgana gave him an inscrutable look. "I don't like the idea of leaving you out, Joker."

"You're the only vital one in Mementos," he shot back. "You're the one who can safely get them in and out, as well as sense our targets. Between you four, you should be able to handle anything you come across. But the Phantom Thieves still need to make progress."

Mishima, his eyes on the road, stepped out and waved back towards the school.

A moment later, Makoto jogged in, breathing from running all the way out of school. She gave a nod to the 2-D class representative, then looked over the others. "Okay, everyone. I'm ready to fight those Shadows."

After quite a few exchanged glances, Ann grunted and held out her school satchel for Morgana. "Fine. Don't aggravate that sprain, okay, Akira?"

He nodded.

Following the transfer student down a longer route to the train station, Mishima waited until after they were out of eyesight and earshot before leaning closer. "You texted Prez that they already decided to go into Mementos, didn't you?"

Akira shrugged. "Ryuji had to wait out almost all of Kaneshiro's palace, even after helping us get there. He was pissed, but he grit his teeth and got through it. If he can do it, so can I. Trying to hold everyone else to a different standard is what my old bastard would do." He turned to his class representative. "So no promising leads at all?"

Mishima rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing but those bullies I already texted you guys about. There's more requests every day, but most of them are the petty kind Ryuji mentioned were…pointless." He adjusted the straps of the school satchel hanging on his left shoulder. "It might take a serious journalist to get the real dirt. I've been pretty lucky, but I'm still just a high schooler."

Akira elbowed the class representative. "Hey, you've been doing really good for us. If you'd just go talk to Shiho, she'd be proud."

Mishima stepped into a small delivery side-street to get them away from the already sparse foot traffic. He faced the transfer student straight on for the first time today, jaw set, but stopped short of raising his fists. "I haven't done nearly enough to make up for what happened to her."

Rubbing his temple with the fingers of one hand, Akira let out a sigh. "Kamoshida's the one who r—hurt her."

"It never would have happened if it wasn't for me!" Mishima bellowed, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'm the one who deserves to be stuck in a hospital." His arms shook. "She was everything to me. She was the only gentle thing in Shujin. She was sweet and patient and her heart was so big she was still automatically kind to everyone, even at that rotten school." He sniffed, and snot glistened beneath his nose. "She was strong when she hugged me, warm when she smiled, and a sight to behold when she threw herself into volleyball." He wiped at his eyes, but tears traced down anyway. "Now all that's gone."

"Hey," Akira snapped to get the class representative's attention. "We'll take down that scammed mistress or tax fraud ring or whatever skeleton Madarame's got hiding in his closet. It'll be the perfect moral victory after Hashimoto's condemnation of us on TV." He stepped closer to pat Mishima on the arm. "Then you can go make up with Suzui-san. Ann says she's walking two meters without assistance now. It would mean a lot to her."

Mishima wiped at his face. "To Shiho, or Ann?" He slumped against the wall next to the transfer student.

"Both."

Mishima gave a derisive snort, but he stood a little straighter. "I don't feel like I've any right to try to get my girlfriend back when I've been such a terrible boyfriend."

Akira let out a long breath. This would be so much easier if the class representative would figure out which girl he wanted to be with and just go, but he couldn't just dismiss the point. "I guess that brings the question to what is a good boyfriend? Or girlfriend for that matter."

"Well…" Mishima rubbed his arm. "Shiho was beautiful, certainly, but that wasn't what got me hooked."

Akira raised an eyebrow. "I think Ryuji would have something different to say."

Mishima let out a frustrated huff, then wiped at his face, looking a little more collected. "I think Ryuji-kun is stuck on the superficial aspects that draw attention because he's never experienced the things that people decide to make it a relationship for. Patience, that ability to listen for just a few minutes and make you feel like your existence means something."

Akira slipped his hands in his pockets, his thoughts circulating back to the girl who gave him an affirming smile in the cafeteria when he said he wanted to be a doctor. "Warmth."

Mishima stood straighter, a light sparking behind his eyes. "Right! Passion, that makes you feel warm and comfortable."

His face blazing, Akira coughed into the back of his hand.

Mishima blushed too. "Not that! I meant like a companionable warmth. A way that, just by being around her, even in the dead of winter, you feel cozy."

"Right!" Akira said just a little too quick. The exuberance Hifumi overflowed with when she had the chance to clash the Togo Kingdom against his Legion of Steel came to mind. As well as the mental image of her standing on a giant scallop shell, sans clothing. He shook his head against the sudden heat on his face.

Mishima stood up from the concrete wall. "Thinking of Ann?"

Despite himself, he thought back to a dream with Ann in lingerie wrestling him to the ground. Akira couldn't deny she was hot by any measure, but… cuddling? Sitting together on the bed and just chatting about anything under the sun? Lacing her fingers in his and keeping him steady as they walked through a crowd? Tolerating his stupid outbursts and guiding him back to sanity? Challenging him, intellectually as well as physically? "It's not that she isn't nice, but… no." He turned his steel grey gaze on the class representative. "Why her?"

Mishima went red as a tomato and fled to the street.

Akira blinked after. "Hoo, boy."

Thursday, 16 June 2016
Evening
Yongen, Leblanc

The high-pitched chime as the register popped open brought Akira's attention out of his homework. The lights dimmed outside, but no scratching at the door hinted at the team leader's presence. Were they just taking their time today? Did they run into a trap? Akira took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his one good hand, trying to ignore the jittery feeling from the one hanging in the sling.

The bell rang and the last couple of legitimate customers stepped out. "Have a good night." Sojiro wrote the day's totals into his phone, then glanced over at the table half occupied by history and math. "Being studious is one thing, but anything can be taken too far." He paused to look over the transfer student. "Have you been getting enough food and sleep? You've been looking a little worse for wear the past week."

Akira huffed, but his hands felt tense without anything to do. Even his math homework lay completed before him. "Just trying to stay productive." He brought up his phone and shot Hifumi a quick text message asking if she had time today. It took quite a bit longer with only one hand.

Tossing a brown hand towel next to the register, Sojiro proceeded to the door. "Make sure the stove is out. And get some sleep, kid." The bell jingled as he pulled the door shut and locked it. His footsteps faded fast, but not too long later, he heard pawing at the door.

Akira jumped out of the booth seat, unlocked and opened the door. "Morgana! Is everything all right?"

The diminutive leader strolled in. "Of course. We changed four people's hearts in Mementos." He sat down, tail held aloft. "Nightrider is a lot less reckless when you're not there to egg each other on. She still voted to continue on to the fifth one, but the gate at the lowest level we can reach still won't open." Morgana hopped up on a stool and took in the clean little cafe. "I see you've been keeping yourself busy. Don't you ever stop and rest?"

"The dead have time to rest." Akira packed his school satchel and followed the team leader upstairs.

Akira froze at the top, his eyelid twitching when he saw faint, dusty pawprints forming a trail on the hand-polished wood paneling. "Stop!"

Morgana went tense, his tail twitching high but at least his feet halting. "What, a trap?"

Akira grabbed for the broom and wipes. The sudden motion went further than his tense arm could control and he dropped the canister. "Dammit!" He bent down to get the wipes. "You must've stepped in something." He held out a hand, then realized he didn't have full use of both hands and leaned the broom against the table. He pulled out a sanitizing wipe.

Morgana rolled his eyes, but trotted closer and let the transfer student wipe off whatever oil he stepped in on the way from the train station. "The operation was pretty touch and go at first. One of those amalgamation Shadows ambushed us in the upper levels. Without you there to swiss-army-knife them, it took a hard beating to break out."

Akira swallowed and focused on the cat paws to have an excuse not to look at the leader's blue eyes. "How bad were the injuries?"

Morgana did a remarkable job of waving off the question without having human wrists. He smirked enough to be clear despite the fur. "Funny you should mention that. Even if it wasn't for the medicine, Zorro isn't the only Persona in our little band that can heal anymore."

Akira paused from wiping at the floor and looked the leader in the face. "Between Captain Kidd's speedy strength and Johanna's blunt tankiness, I can't see any… wait, did Carmen gain healing?" He could see somebody as nurturing – even if sometimes matronizing – as Ann learning to heal.

Morgana sat down, smirk still on full. "Nope. Makoto. She said she had a revelation after that first battle and restored the damage to Zorro."

Akira blinked, but couldn't imagine Johanna doing anything except busting out fiery missiles. He went back to scouring the floor and hit the broom, which slipped and clattered down the stairs. "Dammit!"

Morgana sighed, but seemed too tired to launch into a lecture. "Akira, you need some help. If you really need to do any cleaning up here like you're always doing other nights, at least call someone to help." He yawned. "But I'm beat." He hopped onto the cushion on the bottom of the bookshelf and curled up.

Akira trotted down to the bottom floor. He slipped his arm out of the sling and reached, taking it slow, but it felt like a car's suspension spring rested in his arm, resisting all motion. He slipped the canister of wipes into the sling and leaned the broom up against the wall before checking his phone. No response from Hifumi. Not that he'd want to call her over just to make her clean with him.

He pursed his lips, but his mind kept going back to the dust bunnies he was sure he saw under the couch. He brought up his phone and scrolled through his contacts to the one labeled 'Becky'. He opened the call, and as soon as the Victoria receptionist answered he said, "Is Becky available?"

Yongen, Leblanc Loft

Kawakami-sensei followed him up the creaky old stairs, stopping at the top as she looked over the paneled floor as polished as hand work could get the old wood. "Wow, you keep your place almost as clean as the Ikedas."

He gave her an askance look. "Are you talking about the dysfunctional family on that 'lifestyles of the rich' type show?"

She took her skirt in one hand and held her other over her mouth. "Master shouldn't be so hard on Becky." Looking around, she lowered her hand. "So where next? This place already looks spick and span. As surprising as that was for this attic's start."

Akira gripped the couch with his one good arm, leaving his other in the sling Takemi gave him. "I can get under the table, bookshelf, and work bench. But I can't get the broom and mop under this thing."

Kawakami's arms dropped and her stance slumped. "Ugh. Just my luck a customer calls who just wants a cleaning service."

Eyebrow arched, Akira gave her a stare and crossed his arms. "Why, should I be angling for sex like most of the perverts who probably use Victoria?"

Her fists settled on her hips. She didn't meet his eyes so he knew she realized his point, but refused to concede. "Hey, buster. You were the one who requested me." She crossed her arms just like him. "How'd you find out about Victoria, anyway?"

"Classmate," Akira said. No way would he mention Ryuji by name, especially not after the loudmouth finally forgot the whole escapade. "He chickened out at the last minute."

Kawakami nodded, her stance relaxing a little. "I can see Mishima-kun doing that." She caught him tensing and let a little smirk on one side of her mouth. "You don't hang out with many of your classmates. There's only a few it could be. Are you… keeping in touch with your old friends?"

"What old friends? The few dudes I used to hang out with ghosted me when I was arrested." He reached his good arm out for the couch. "One meter out should be enough to clean entirely underneath."

"Ugh. Slow down, kid," Kawakami said, but lifted her end and helped him carry it out the requested meter. When he picked up the broom, she paced around to snatch it. "You're still hurt. Geez, kid, don't you know how to take it easy?"

"Idle hands make the devil's playthings."

She stared at him for several seconds before turning around and sweeping. "You're not at all like your record made you out to be, you know that? I've been teaching for three years so I've seen a lotta kids. All of them have their tells, but you're probably one of the hardest to read. You have a conviction for assault, but you chat with the class president. You stormed Kamoshida's office the day of that girl's jump, but you're never late to class. Your edges are so rough they're serrated, and yet you defended Suzui-kun when she wasn't there to defend herself. And from your last essay, justice is very important to you."

Akira crossed his arms tighter. "Where no one else will uphold justice, that should just be a call for all present to stand up that much faster. The kenpeitai terrorized Japan until enough Japanese refused to live under their thumb of the world's most brutal tyranny." His eyes swung up for a moment of thought. "Well, and the allies carpet-bombing the military until there wasn't enough of a kenpeitai left to keep up the iron fist."

She chuffed, but Kawakami's mouth smothered a smile instead of a frown. "You must read a lot. I didn't know about the kenpeitai until I took history in college." She knelt to sweep the dust into a dust pan, then dumped it into the garbage pail.

Akira dipped a mop in a small plastic bucket. "Oppression and standing up to it was a recurring conversation topic in my family."

She forced a giggle, but at least it sounded better than one of Ann's fake laughs. "You and your mother never talked about housecleaning techniques? Most parents are eager to offload the housework onto the kids."

Mouth pressing into a thin line, Akira tried to decide what would be the quickest way to get her to lose interest without having to elaborate on much. "You said you read the file sent to Shujin. Did you not notice mother and the old bastard had different addresses?"

Kawakami set down the dust pan and took the mop. With her shoulders squared and eyes still searching his, even that laughable maid uniform couldn't take away the resemblance to Officer Ichijou. The way both of them stared, filed and sorted and compared him to some mental model built from someone else. "I just… can't understand how someone so young could be so cynical, not just about adults in general but both of his own parents. Parents teach everyone something. If you didn't get any valuable life lessons from your father, at least your mother—"

"Never thought past who she was going to bang next," he bit out. He could almost feel the rain soaking his Tanizaki Middle School jacket. The humiliation so long ago still clenched his hands into trembling fists despite the tension in the hand in a sling. He stalked to the corner where he kept the cleaning supplies and threw the broom against the wall, where it bounced to the ground with a clatter. "Never even considered giving up her old 'profession'," he snapped with a sneer. "Not for the old bastard, and not for me." He knelt to snatch up the broom. "I am nothing like her."

Kawakami set down the dust pan. "She…" Her eyes grew wide. "While you…!" A shiver passed through her before she crossed her arms and took a step back. "I… I didn't mean to pry."

Akira set the broom against the wall. "I'm not like her," he said, face burning as fragments of his steamy dreams with Ann percolated up in his mind. Then the ones he was starting to have with Hifumi. "I'm not."

Kawakami took the mop. She wouldn't quite meet his eyes. "Sorry. I shouldn't have pressed. It's just… as earnest and important as justice is to you, you called a maid service."

His arm in a sling felt tenser than before and he twisted it to try to work out the muscles. "You're here to do the cleaning I can't. It's not like you're not being paid."

Her strained smile could've cut steel. "Becky… does need the money."

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out to see a text from Queen Togo. Akira took some distance to make sure he read in privacy, only to see, [Sorry, busy with errand for mother. Not available tonight. Also sorry for being so late to reply.]

He sighed, his shoulders and eyelids feeling heavy all of the sudden.

[It's okay. You've got to take care of your own.] He stared at his sent message for long moments before deciding it wouldn't switch to read while he stared at it.

"Everything okay there, Kurusu-kun?" Kawakami called from the mop bucket. She gave a teasing smile. "Lover's tiff?"

He couldn't hold in all of the snarl that snapped onto his face, but he composed himself as fast as he could. No sense denying the facts. "Don't make fun of me, Sensei. I'm not boyfriend material."

Her smile evaporated, her spine straightening as she stood up to look him over. A guardedness replaced her easygoing energy. Kawakami's dark brown eyes met his with a searching intensity he'd never seen from her before. For a beat he wondered if the square to her shoulders was for her or him. "Nonsense. There's all sorts of guys, and all sorts of girls that go for those guys."

With the other Phantom Thieves recovering from a run in the Metaverse and his only other outlet for intellectual stimulation busy, Akira turned his phone to sleep and plugged it into the charger. "Bad guys like me don't end up with good girls like…" He shook his head. Hifumi, Ann, Makoto… Every girl he could think of was out of his league. They had better prospects than him.

"Like who?" Kawakami prodded.

"Anyone," he said as the atmosphere pressed down on him. Akira sat back on his bed and took off his glasses to massage back the sense of growing headache and fatigue. A yawn worked its way out of his mouth.

Friday, 17 June 2016
Early Morning
Yongen, Leblanc Loft

Akira's hand fumbled for his phone as Battle at the Pyramid blasted out of it. As much as he wanted to enjoy the score to Stargate, the tangle of his sheet felt even tighter than most mornings. Never being one to lounge in bed, he extricated himself and stumbled to the work bench to turn off the musical morning alarm. Retrieving his glasses, he looked around to note the room looked different than before. "Morgana? Does anything seem different to you?"

Morgana hopped onto the arm of the couch. He sniffed twice in the air. "That cleaning lady you hired really does take pride in her job, huh?"

He checked the faux recycle box for palace trinkets covered with discarded newspapers. With no sign of disturbance, he looked across the rest of the room. "Yeah, I guess she gets the job done."

Morgana hopped to the table at the corner by the stairs. "She even cleaned over here, and the stairs. Getting it this good would've taken more than an hour to finish."

Akira had to admit the not-cat was right. He pulled on his Shujin uniform. "No time for dallying in the morning. Come on."