Persona 5: Daywatch
Friday, 24 June 2016
Early Evening
Yongen, Takemi Medical Clinic
Akira stumbled into the clinic, caught his footing with a firm hand on the doorknob to hold himself up, then yawned into his fist. The clinic sat empty, but instead of a doctor at the desk, a small sign reading 'The Doctor is with a Patient' sat on the desk window. Not trusting himself to stay awake if he sat down, Akira brought up his cell phone and shot a message to Hifumi, [Good evening.]
Silence permeated the waiting lobby for seconds stretching into minutes before his phone buzzed. [Sorry, scheduled. No time to talk.]
He didn't even have time to put it away before his phone buzzed again. Makoto texted to the Phantom Thief chat, [I don't understand how he can be part of the crime, giving up his own work, and still defend Madarame.]
Akira typed as Ryuji and Ann's IDs popped in at the top. [I think it's learned helplessness. After long enough of nobody helping you, social conditioning teaches humans to expect no help from the outside, even if it's available and that's where you need to go to escape conditions of pain.]
Ryuji texted next, [It's unforgivable! He's teaching them art like it's the best thing in the world, but never letting them put their own stuff out there.]
Three dots danced next to Ann's name for several seconds. [Even if you owed your life to them? How far would that go before you hit your limit?]
Morgana frowned from Akira's shoulder. "You think he's afraid, like all those victims under Kaneshiro?"
[He's stealing from all of them,] Makoto sent back.
Three dots danced beside Ann's name and Akira waited until she sent, [But Kitagawa-kun himself said we should leave Madarame alone. Why protect Madarame if everything is horrible?]
Ryuji texted, [You think there's more going on?]
To his surprise, Makoto replied next, [Even if we haven't met any of the people crushed under Madarame's heel… Even if the tools Madarame are using aren't as cruel as Kaneshiro, he is still ruining the livelihood of all those pupils. He HAD to know he was driving his pupils to suicide, not just once, but a dozen times.]
The door to the examination room swung open and an old man trudged out, clutching a brown paper sack and prescription note. Takemi reached for the 'BUSY' sign, her eyes narrowing on the transfer student. "You're back?"
"Just for some meds," he said, looking back down to the Phantom Thief chat.
He followed her into the exam room, where Takemi handed him a list of medication and sat down to focus on paperwork.
[But is it right for us to force it when Kitagawa-kun won't do anything?] Ann texted. [After ten people, I know Madarame is bad, but how can Kitagawa forgive and defend his teacher after all the other students left or died?]
[You heard Akira,] Ryuji sent. [People go all turtle and then forget how to come out. It pisses me off so much! And good people are just supposed to let those shitty adults do anything they want because if they rock the boat, THEY'RE not good people anymore!]
Makoto texted, [I can't back down in the face of such certainty. I don't know what Kitagawa-kun is deluding himself into thinking, but MADARAME is the evil one. After a dozen suicides, and all those futures stolen, there can't be any room for uncertainty. I wasn't there for Shiho, but I'd never be able to face Dad if I dropped things here.]
Three dots danced next to Ann's name for a moment. [I know about the bad things which happened to all the others, but it seems like Kitagawa-kun still thinks he needs Madarame. We're not just becoming bullies ourselves by going ahead with this on our own, are we?]
Morgana's feet padded back and forth on the transfer student's shoulder. "Then let's call for another vote and make sure it's official. I still vote we change Madarame's heart."
[Morgana says it's time for a vote since it sounds like sentiment changed. Your Shoulder Is My Throne says he votes to change Madarame's heart.]
Ryuji wasted no time to send, [Me too. I vote we change this shirt bag's heart.]
A beat passed.
[Shirt bag.]
[We get it, Ryuji,] Ann texted. [Make my vote to change his heart.]
[You're sure?] Makoto texted. [We don't want to pressure you into this.]
[I've got my reservations,] Ann texted. [Especially with Kitagawa-kun still choosing to stay at the atelier and defend Madarame. But that old man is stealing futures, and almost always from young and vulnerable people.]
Makoto texted, [I vote to change his heart. I will not be the student council girl who let other people hurt just so I wouldn't risk getting demerited ever again.]
[Me too,] Akira texted. [That makes it unanimous.]
Morgana slipped down into the transfer student's satchel. "Now tell them to get some sleep, and let's get the medicine for the Metaverse." He yawned, his little jaws snapping shut with a clack.
Saturday, 25 June 2016
Late Afternoon
Ueno Park
Akira braced his hands on his knees, drawing in deep lung-fulls of air. He'd been out-done in contests of stamina at Inuri High, but not often. Even without the old bastard's cajoling, losing left a bitter taste in his mouth even when it didn't bring bruises. But with Makoto still working on building the deflectors to get therough Madarame's security lasers, he needed some kind of distraction and Cute But Annoying's invitation to train was too good to pass up.
Yoshizawa stood there beside him, glistening with sweat and breathing heavy but looking like she could have continued for another ten minutes. The fact irked him even knowing she was an honors gymnast. "Very impressive, Kur—Senpai! We'll want to work on some of those counter-productive habits, but you're way ahead of most people!"
Despite not quite having his breath back, Akira straightened his back. "Fine, then let's do it. Amateurs practice until they can get it right, professionals practice until they can't get it wrong."
Yoshizawa held up a hand, index finger extended. "Coach would like your gumption, but you're still not that good at accurately gauging your own reserves. If we kept going, you'd be hurting by the time you got home. Most people don't work their internal or external obliques so hard, and I could see your movements starting to get a little erratic. If you're going to be teaching others, it's especially important to know where to stop things."
Grumping, he had to admit she had a point. He fought with Morgana in the past, but the team leader tended to be the one to make the call to fall back or rest. They stretched, and by the time they finished he couldn't deny the burning in his muscles. Maybe he'd better bring Ann or Ryuji to a gym where somebody else could keep an eye out so he didn't push them too far.
"You've certainly got drive," Yoshizawa said as they wound down. Despite having regained her breath a while ago and her sweat already drying, she let out a whoosh of air. "To be honest, I don't think I could have made much more. I'm… not feeling at the top of my game."
The lack of sweat clashed with her claim of empty reserves, but she did look weary. Akira rubbed the back of his neck. "I've been pushing things too far, haven't I?" He gestured his hand at a nearby bench. "You sick?"
She took to it with the enthusiasm of someone desperate to get off her feet. "Physically I'm fine. But it's like… there's this weight that won't let me go. No matter how much I practice, I feel like I just get clumsier."
Akira opened his mouth to tell her that her judgment had to be compromised if she thought her practiced grace and stamina were anything but far above average. "Problems with your compatriots?"
Shaking her head, Yoshizawa seemed even more lethargic. "Coach said I need to take a break and think about who I am."
Memories of his attempt to join Inuri's basketball club surfaced in Akira's mind. "Life sucks when the team and coach both don't believe in you."
Yoshizawa straightened, a miffed energy widening her red eyes. "Oh, not at all. Coach is always praising me. She always said 'Kasumi's greatest weapon in her boldness'. And it used to be that I could always practice through the problem." The corners of her lips quirked up even as her eyes remained tense. "Gymnastics was always thrilling. But since I started high school, I got taller and… other things happened. It's like I'm piloting someone else's body."
Nodding, Akira sat back against his side of the bench. He didn't know a lot about medicine outside basic physical therapy, but he remembered suffering his own growing pains at Inuri High. And girls hit their spurts before boys. "When either the world or your body changes around you, the only choice is to keep practicing until either you change or you learn to walk in the new crowd." He gestured a hand at a clump of middle schoolers heading out from the path to the train station. "I used to hate Tokyo's crowds, but since Ryuji introduced me to crowd running, I've been getting through it by treating crowds as an obstacle I just have to race through."
If Morgana had come along, Akira's sure the team leader would've complained about the bouncing and running.
Yoshizawa gave a sound more like a huff than chuckle, but some of that darkness in her expression cleared. "I can see why you take so well to the routines, you're athletic at heart as well as body. I'll bet you even spend your spare weekends running."
Akira sat up. "Not really. I use exercise to fill in time in the week, but when I have a block of free time I actually like sitting down to a good book." He pulled up his phone and swiped out of the apps-cluttered front page so the gymnast could see Hifumi's Ultimate Excalibur formation. "Or strategy. I love strategy games. It's the purest test of the mind that exists." There was something he couldn't explain about them, maybe everything the quest for intellectual sophistication carried with it. The accompanying rules of etiquette helped him reel himself back in as much as it helped tone down his opponents. Even people who didn't like him would at least let a fair game come to completion.
She gazed at his phone with a look of incomprehension. "With as fearless as you were at Station Square, I never would have pegged you as a book-type."
"Books are patient and unchanging," he grumped. Turning the screen back to himself, Akira checked his email, then messenger.
"Assignment coming due?" the red-head beside him queried.
He shook his head and pocketed his phone. "What makes you say it like that?"
She swallowed, but a faint impish smile slipped out anyway as she pointed out, "Your brows furrow when you're worried about something. Your hair's not long enough to hide it."
Akira let out a whoosh of air, then scratched at his scalp. "One of my fellow parishioners said she'd message me. Contact has been spotty and I'm concerned whether everything's okay at home." He slipped his phone away, reached out both hands, interlocked his fingers, and stretched his arms and back. "Then there's everything with him." He glanced aside at the red-head. "Say… you know anything about Madarame?"
Yoshizawa blinked. "The painter? I know Father's had him on Good Morning, Japan a few times but that's about it." Her phone chimed. She checked it, then stood. "Pardon me, Senpai." She straightened out her gym uniform, then bowed. "I need to get going, but I hope you can teach me how to be confident like you are."
Saturday, 25 June 2016
Evening
Akihabara, Den Pho Vietnamese Restaurant
Akira squinted at his homework in the dim yellow light of his corner of the restaurant tucked into the western fringe of Akihabara. Like the rest of Tokyo, he could see the mass of humanity churning outside, but at least in this tiny space he had respite both from the intensity of Oda Shinya's instruction as well as the cold, uncaring masses. He turned the page and started on the next sixty problems due before Tuesday.
He stopped when Alliance Force, Assemble! sang out of his phone. He picked it up and smiled when he noticed Queen Togo on the caller ID. "Homan Provement's remodeling and décor."
A dainty giggle floated out from the phone. "You are endlessly creative, Akira-kun. So… I just wanted to say I've landed a spot in the upcoming tournament schedule!"
"Yes!" He stood up for a fist pump. When the other customers gave him quizzical looks, he pulled his chair back in and sat down. He straightened the papers knocked loose by his sudden movement. "Uh, so… where and when is it? Can I bring flags and air horns?"
"No!" She said through a giggle. A beat passed. "You wouldn't, would you?"
"No," he said, though his chuckles were forced.
Hifumi let out a relieved breath. "Well, I have a qualifying round in two weeks. I thought now was the best time to get a strategy book and brush up on some historical tactics."
Akira thought back. The last time he saw any books about either shogi or strategy was his last trip to book town. "Another trip up to Jinbocho?"
He could almost see her bright grin in the tone, "That's exactly what I was thinking, Akira-kun. I just finished cram school, so I thought we could pop in and between the two of us find some hidden gem."
He could always do homework after helping his shogi rival. "I'm actually pretty close right now. Just text me where you want to meet."
Jinbocho, Old Pen Used Book Store
Akira reached for a book and tugged, his finger slipping off the dusty tome. He jerked his hand back and wiped. "Ick. The dangers of book hunting."
Hifumi flashed him a grin which warmed the one-room used book shop. "Every hobby has its perils. Did you have time to read The Screwtape Letters yet?"
Akira set Neutron Star back up on the shelf and reached for Because I Have a Name, then decided to leave it. He felt a sense of chill from the reminder of all the things he read about in the book she gave him. "That wasn't a joke you had a friend print out just to give me, was it?"
Hifumi clasped both hands on her school bag, her deep green eyes boring into his. The offended look passed after just a moment, but her polite mask couldn't hide the scrutiny she settled on him. "Why would you think that?"
Akira swallowed and scratched his head. "I thought those demons were talking about me. I mean, if they hadn't specified a war in Europe, I'd have thought it was all about me." Heat rose through his face at the reminder about the 'patient' in the book meeting a Christian girl, and the one just two steps away from him right now. He shook his head. He'd be more likely to get blown up by a vengeful criminal's bomb than ever get in with a nice girl like her.
Hifumi smiled and a quick breath left her lips, before she smothered her chuckle. "It's one of those books deep in philosophy which speaks to everyone, Akira-kun." The curve up of her pink lips twitched. "I recognized a lot of myself in the patient as well." Her eyes darted to the shelf next to him. "Oh! Just what I was looking for!" She hopped forward and plucked a book with bland, tan rebinding.
"Here, I'll get that," Akira offered as they closed on the register mounted on the desk by the front.
She clutched the book closer to her bright blue uniform shirt. "Don't be silly. I called you here to help me find a book for myself. It wouldn't be right to make you pay for it."
The shopkeeper struggling to keep her eyes open snarked, "Could you two get a room after one of you pays for my book?"
Both teens blushed and Akira couldn't manage to get his mouth to work, so Hifumi stepped up to the register and paid for her book with a shiny, steel-grey card. She let him carry it out and the two turned to Jinbocho with golden evening light saturating the narrow streets. The way the dimming light made her Kosei uniform look black in the shadows reminded him of the first time he saw her in her uniform, that late Thursday evening when she offered to tutor him. "W-Well," she said, still not holding eye contact with him for long, "Shall we see what else we can find?"
"Sure," he said, his heart fluttering in his chest before they turned to investigate another three used book stores.
"Oh," he heard as they slipped out of shop number four. A familiar braided headband slipped out of the thickening evening crowd jostling his nerves, and Makoto came to a stop before the pair. "Good evening, Akira-kun." Her red gaze shifted to the long-haired girl next to him.
"Yo, Makoto." Akira gave a tip of his head in acknowledgment. "Finished with the mirror whatsit?"
"Of course," she said, drawing up to her full height. "That's what I spent most of the day outside class working on." Her red gaze flicked to the transfer student. "Is she a friend of yours?"
The full and considerable etiquette for Japanese introductions hit a nervous switch in his stomach, but then evaporated from his mind as soon as he tried to decide which one to introduce first. Akira coughed into his fist. "This is my classmate, Niijima." He lifted his hand to the beauty letting him carry her books. "This is Togo, my math tutor and—" his hand clenched as he struck as dramatic a pose as he could with two books in hand, "—my shogi nemesis extraordinaire. Undefeated, but I shall earn my victory sooner or later!"
A couple passers-by gave him an arched eyebrow. His rival rolled her eyes and Makoto rubbed her brow with a sharp breath out. "Always dramatic, huh, Akira?"
Hifumi shook her head, but the corners of her mouth quirked up. She gave a polite bow at the waist. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Niijima-san." She glanced between them, her smile fading and a small slump entering her shoulders. "Well, I don't want to get in the way if you two have a school project to finish."
Makoto blinked, shooting him a quick questioning look to the transfer student. When he shook his head, she piped up. "Oh, you don't have to be so circumspect." Before she could say anything else, a growl rumbled from her belly. She covered herself with her arms as if that could conceal the offending noise.
Hifumi gave a sympathetic smile. "If you'd like, I haven't had anything to eat either. Do you like curry? There's a little place not even a block this way."
Makoto held a hand over her stomach, but wavered on her feet for a moment before she turned to them and gave a deep bow of thanks. "Thank you." She fell in step beside the shogi master. "Mother and I would play on occasion. That was kind of a rainy day thing." Her pace slowed for a moment, her eyes going distant before she snapped back into focus. She glanced to the book the transfer student browsed as they walked before her crimson eyes shifted to the shogi master. "If it's not too forward of me, would you mind teaching me some strategy? The knowledge might benefit u—me in the future."
Hifumi's forest-green gaze bounced between the two of them for a heartbeat as the transfer student held the curry corner's door open. "Very well." After the three made their orders and separate payments, they sat down at heavy wood tables worn smooth by decades of use. "Different games place different constraints on the procedures. With the number of counters existing in shogi, the approach must be creative. Like Akira-kun, you must be willing to sacrifice pieces without remorse." Her cool gaze fell on him for just a moment. "But you must be sure to have pieces positioned to take advantage of multiple outcomes. A strategy is no good if it depends on your opponent moving his bishop and he instead captures your gold general with a knight."
Akira groaned. "Of course you'd have to bring that one up. Whenever you're planning multiple moves in advance, it's inevitable you miss a few possibilities down the line." He straightened on his stool. "You can't let risk dissuade you, though, or you'll just be crushed by a luckier or better-prepared player. I use bait to draw the opponent into specific areas and win against people one or two thousand above my ranking online."
At the cook's call, Makoto picked up their curry bowls from the kitchen window and sat back down. "So you use sacrificial pieces to open avenues by counterattack? An aggressive application of a decoy."
Hifumi nodded, a glimmer in her eye and up-turn at the corners of her mouth. "Precisely."
Akira swallowed his spoonful of green curry. "And I'd like to point out that bait is less effective in turn-based games like shogi because you can only move one piece at a time. In more realistic simulations, it's even better because you can position multiple of your pieces to wait until not just one enemy, but sometimes a specific target takes the bait." He took another spoonful. "Hasn't the Special Investigative Unit done exactly that with some bank fraud case last year?"
"Oh, yes," Makoto said, her back straightening as she launched into the broadening discussion on strategy.
The three chattered until the sun went down and piano music floated up out of Hifumi's phone. Her enthusiasm dissipated in a heartbeat and she answered with a faraway look in her eyes. "Yes?" Her shoulders drooped. "I'm just in Jinbocho getting a few books on shogi." Hifumi's lips curled into a frown. "Yes, Mother." She gathered her school satchel and reached a hand to the transfer student. "Please forgive me, I must be going."
Akira handed over her books with a great sense of reluctance. With his own curry polished off, he stood to follow her out.
She let him open the door, but her deep green eyes wouldn't meet his. "You should go ahead and enjoy the rest of your time with your classmate," she said, fingers tightening over her new books. "I have to head straight home." She took a quick breath in and out. "Damn, the first witty conversation I've had in a week, and I didn't get to play a single game with her."
Akira gave her a smile, however much he'd have rather spent the rest of the evening with the shogi master. "I'll set something up."
A smile bloomed over Hifumi's face. "I'd like that, Aki-kun."
He bowed at the waist, a smirk on his lips. "For Queen Togo? Anywhere, any time."
Sunday, 26 June 2016
Morning
Kanda Catholic Church
Following the benediction, Father Sugiyama gave a shallow bow to the parish, which returned with deeper bows from their seats. The usual hubbub began as the people got up to leave, but this time Akira noticed a strange woman with chestnut brown hair and a flattering blue dress standing up next to Hifumi.
It took until they were at the aisle and turning for the door before Akira noticed the woman's hand around Hifumi's wrist.
Akira came to a sudden stop before them, feeling himself start to sweat from the intensity of the woman. "Excuse me." His eyes flicked from the woman just two centimeters shorter than Hifumi, but with brown eyes as intense as a bonfire. "Um… Togo-san?"
The woman stepped between he and the shogi master, her brown gaze boring into him. "Are you some fan?" She turned up her nose. "She only signs autographs at special events. The times and locations are on her social media."
When she tightened her grip on the shogi master's wrist, Akira side-stepped to keep in front of her. "Pardon me—"
She glared, and he somehow felt a meter shorter than the woman in the pristine dress. "Are you some pervert stalker?"
Hifumi yanked her hand out of the woman's grip. "Mother!" Her deep green eyes fell to the empty pew beside her and she fidgeted with her flattering, maroon dress. "He's my shogi friend." She paused to swallow, but couldn't pull her eyes up to the intense woman's face. "I told you about him, remember?"
Her mother stared into the young girl for a long moment. Then the moment passed and she spun on the transfer student in his Sunday suit. Her dark brown eyes flitted over him too fast for him to guess at what she was looking for, but she settled that laser-intense gaze on his after just a moment. "You'd better not be harboring any deviant thoughts about my daughter."
Akira's mouth drifted open, but the burning gaze making him feel ten centimeters tall stole the breath he was about to use to snark that anybody would have thoughts about a girl as beautiful as Hifumi. After a moment he closed his mouth and swallowed. "Slow down just a minute, she's not a dog to drag along to a show."
Hifumi swallowed, her focus turning to the woman. "I-It's nothing to be concerned about, Mother."
The woman in the blue dress turned to the shogi master, who shrank back the little she could against the pew. "Don't think I've forgotten that nasty little incident at Ogawa. You are not permitted to date." She snagged Hifumi's wrist and took long strides to the door, bulling straight past Akira. "Your photo spreads are only beginning to attract male fans."
Akira stumbled at the reminder of Hifumi in that showy, wine-red dress making it clear she wasn't even wearing a bra underneath. He dashed after them. "Hey!"
The woman's hand tightened on Hifumi's wrist. "Come along, we can't be late to this interview. When you're famous, you can have fifty like whoever that boy is."
Hifumi blushed and clapped her free hand over her face.
When he tried to intercept, her mother bowled him aside, her powerful stride unbroken. When the shogi master tugged against her grip, her mother pulled and kept walking. "Good girls do what they're told."
Akira sprinted, weaving through the crowd with all the dexterity he'd gained since Ryuji introduced him to crowd running. His teeth clenched together and his fists ached to act against the woman hurting the kindest girl he ever knew.
Hifumi held up a hand to ward his approach. "I-It's okay. She's just having a bad day today. I-It's my fault."
His heart thudded in his chest and red crept into the corners of his vision. He heard plenty of 'just having a bad day, it's my fault' from abuse victims at the Smiling Mountain Mental Institute. His teeth ground and his hands trembled.
Hifumi jerked out of her mother's grip and used both hands to bring the transfer student in formal dress to a halt. Her voice hushed, "Akira-kun, please, don't make a scene." Her eyes flicked out at the street around them, pausing at the clumps of parishioners. When her mother turned on them, her brown eyes blazed with even more anger than Akira's, though her face did a better job of masking it. Hifumi shrank back. "Please don't worry, Mother. It's nothing. I'm going."
The older, stacked woman grabbed her hand and paused to throw one last glare. "My daughter's already dealt with stalkers. If I see you around again… the police can haul you away quite easily." She pulled the girl and stepped out.
Akira took a step after them, but felt the impressions of her hands on his chest. The pleading in her eyes. And the pain of longing and hope when before her mother hauled her away.
Sunday, 26 June 2016
Afternoon
Madarame's Museum, East Gallery Hall
Akira caught and held the stunted doorway-shaped plastic pipes glued together to frame the mirrors studded around its sides. He looked up into the skylight. "Got it."
"Shh!" Morgana hissed from up top.
The rest of the Phantom Thieves slid down the rope as Akira carried the refractor to the laser barrier. They could just jump over this one, but what better place to test it than right next to their escape point in case something went wrong? Makoto helped him line it up straight and they shared a worried glance before pushing the plastic-framed refracting doorway into the laser barrier. The faint red lines bounced on the mirrors lining the sides, up to the clusters at the top corners, then back down to the other side.
Both froze, waiting for another alarm to sound, but when nothing happened for several tense seconds, both let out a breath of relief. Akira held it steady while Makoto ducked down through it, held the other side, and the rest of the Phantom Thieves dashed through.
Ryuji laughed. "Effin' sweet, that's even easier than jumpin' over those damn things."
Ann gave her own relieved chuckle. "The less time we have to stare at all those stolen memory… paintings, the better."
The only thing which would come to his mind's eye was Hifumi's mother dragging her out of church. His blood boiled at the reminder and he flexed his hands out of fists. "What'd you see?"
"Madarame watching all three apprentices at the time make better stuff than him, then hiring thugs from Shibuya to stalk them until they moved away."
The Phantom Thieves made their way to the doorways behind the reception desk and slipped through the refraction doorway. They were all set to continue on when Ryuji looked at it and scratched his head. "Uh… do we just bring this with us? There may be fewer guards today, but if we leave it here, the next guard is gonna sound the alarm. And prolly break it."
Akira pulled it a few inches in, then leaned it against the wall of the inward-curving hallway so it couldn't be seen from outside. When Ann gave him a quirked eyebrow, he shrugged, "We'll come back if we need it."
Morgana nodded. "Good enough. Now, let's see what gaudy thing Madarame has next."
The inward-curving hallway rose to an enormous, circular room dominated by a giant, gleaming gold statue. At first, he thought it was just a rising spiral, but on stepping closer he realized each strand was made of people lifting up their arms, propping up the next one. Banners proclaiming the greatness of Madarame spaced around the walls, which wavered with the ink-paintings of a traditional-style leafless tree.
Makoto clicked her gun-light on and read the plaque. "The Infinite Spring. The amassed work of art created thanks to Madarame's own generous funds. Those who are gifted with his genius teachings must reciprocate with their creations… for…"
"The rest of their lives," Ryuji finished. He gritted his teeth. "Effin' shithead. He ain't just a phony takin' his peeps' shit as his own – he's offin' the ones who try an' go on their own so nobody knows he's plagiarizin'!" He kicked at one of the posts holding up the velvet ropes keeping a barrier around the spiraling statue.
Makoto grabbed the pole and steadied it, letting her shotgun dangle from its strap. When no alarm sounded, she stood back, her glare falling on the statue. "It's just a thinly-veiled form of slavery. Stealing their ideas and promising them greatness, while destroying their futures."
Morgana tapped the squared rod of his collapsed crossbow in hand. "If this is true, I'd say he doesn't even count as an artist. Even a thief will let a farmer grow more crops, or potter to sell his wares."
They proceeded up the ramp spiraling around the outside of the room to an exit on a higher level, leading to another gallery hall with six enormous portraits in gold frames. Other than that, they seemed to be the same mix of names and dates for those who suicided or gaps for those who disappeared, never to be seen in the art world again. Makoto, at the front, came to a stop when her gun-light illuminated a familiar figure in a large, gold-framed portrait.
Ann gasped. "It's Kitagawa!" Just to make sure, she followed the light to the placard next to the wavering portrait. Sure enough, it bore the name 'Kitagawa Yusuke'. A long hallway of the young apprentice's paintings snaked deep out of view.
Ryuji peered into the side hall studded with paintings. "It's even got that angry tree Ann was talkin' 'bout."
Already feeling pissed off to the point of jittery hands, Akira decided not to follow the others in their brief foray down the side-hall showing off stolen artwork.
As they came out, Ann glanced over her shoulder at the others. "Think we should tell him?"
"What?" Akira snapped. "That there's a likeness of him as a tool in Madarame's subconscious? He'd cancel his call to the cops and make one to the loony bin. It doesn't matter if we're trying to help him. He doesn't believe in us, same as those volleyball players."
Morgana paced closer, looking over the longcoated thief. "Is everything okay? You seem more terse than usual."
Akira flexed his left hand open and closed. "To be honest, I probably would've been just as evasive and unhelpful if you guys came to me back when Director Isshiki was still my old bastard's boss. People swept what he did under the rug so long, I stopped believing anyone on the outside would do anything." He took a breath in, then out. "If we want him to believe in us, we're going to have to show him proof. Proof like a changed heart."
Ryuji nodded and stood guard at the hall with the longcoated transfer student. "Pissed off about how messed up this dude is?"
"Huh?" Akira straightened and checked the door they came from. "Just real life being a bitch. Fuck, I wish Byakko would just let us get a good fight in. All this sneaking around is getting on my nerves."
Makoto paced out with a thousand-meter stare. She fidgeted with her shotgun. "Remember when I said I had reservations about changing Madarame's heart without knowing if it would be okay with Kitagawa? I retract my reservations."
Ryuji looked her up and down, for once his eyes not stopping on her chest. He let go of his rifle with one hand to mime a back-handed slap. "The old man got drunk and hurt someone?"
She shook her head, squeezing her red eyes shut for a moment. "Kitagawa and Hideki just wanted lunch money, and he made them feel like criminals. Just for asking to eat at school."
Morgana clenched his crossbow. "I think we've all been in agreement for a while. This artist is in serious need of a change of heart. Now come on, and keep quiet. The Treasure is this direction."
They passed into a display room, paintings along the perimeter and folding stands in the middle. Each one bore praise from critics, or mentioned a loan to a famous foreign museum. The Phantom Thieves followed Morgana around the square displays in the middle until he jerked back behind a corner.
The leader waved back an instant before a cone of light shone at them, a Shadow van Damme coming around the corner. "Intruder in the south gallery!"
Akira, standing near the middle of the walk way, gave a feral grin. "Oh, yes."
Ann hissed from behind another angled pillar of paintings, "Shit!"
The guard's body twitched and distended with slower speed than the ones the other day when the museum was on higher alert, but still burst into a pair of those dwarfish little Shadows with dark old-timey clothes and holding a giant leaf each.
Akira left his sub-machine gun low, using it wouldn't be satisfying enough. "Pillar, Agi!" Darkness and fire churned from the ceiling, emitting a bolt of fire before even touching down.
Johanna came to a stop next to him and blasted a fire bolt at the next Shadow, knocking it down.
Morgana aimed his crossbow and moved to flank. "Good, we've got them both down—"
"Agi!" Akira barked, striking the second Shadow, throwing off dancing cinders and knocking it into dissolving ash. Those brown eyes condemning Hifumi still blazed hotter in his mind than his own Persona's flames. Akira turned back to the first Shadow. "Agi!"
Pillar emitted another bolt of fire, knocking the dwarfish leaf-holder toppling backwards. It found its feet and began a run to the double doors.
"Agi!"
The disintegrating Shadow collapsed against the steel.
Akira dismissed his Persona with a harrumph.
Morgana lowered his crossbow. "Fall back to the rear, Akira."
The longcoated teen blinked. "What did you just say?"
The leader pointed his folded crossbow at him. "I said fall back. I half-expected you've been slapped by a Kumbhanda. It's already hard to fight with so many of us. If I can't trust you to keep a clear head, then you need to hang back." He took a step closer. "Joker, the Shadows were both down. Procedure since we started fighting at the castle was either to negotiate with them or finish the battle quickly with an all-out strike. You could've gotten a new Persona, or we could've gotten a new trinket to sell for medicine money. What would've happened if Rider was charging in to run them down?"
He opened his mouth, teeth bared, but held himself back. He took in a deep breath and let it out. Pointing out his fire would've had little-to-no effect on Johanna wouldn't help.
Ann came to a stop next to him. "I'll take rear guard with Joker. You guys go on ahead."
Makoto and Ryuji nodded and paced to the door, but Morgana held a scrutinizing gaze on the two. After a moment thick with choking silence, he gave a nod. "This place might be big enough for another Shadow to spawn even while you both are here. Don't dally." He slipped through the doors, which closed with a soft clunk.
Ann reached for him, but the transfer student jerked his arm away. "Joker, what's going on? You're reminding me of our last climb up Kamoshida's castle. Remember the tower leading to the throne room?"
He switched his sub-machine gun from his right to his left hand. "Not very well. It was a lot of climbing inside and outside."
She tapped her suppressed pistol against her leg, those blue eyes staring into his. "Joker, you did the same thing to one of those owl-men." Ann's gaze shifted to one of the portraits and she rubbed her arm. "Morgana was injured so he might not have noticed at the time, but… your eyes… you were somewhere else, Joker." She pointed her pistol at the spot he stood at before. "And right there? You were somewhere else." Ann shifted from her left leg to her right. "You seriously scared us. I know I can't just ask you to trust me enough to just talk about it, but at some point, you're going to have to talk to someone."
She turned and took a step for the door before he caught her arm. Akira swallowed, but kept his eyes on hers. "You think I don't trust you?"
Her blue eyes did not quite meet his. "I think there's a lot you're struggling with. And some of it you don't think you can come to us about. And that's okay, there are things I talk about with Shiho I don't with Yuu-kun. But if you bottle everything up, you're going to explode like my MacBook's battery."
Akira took down a quick breath of air before a laugh squeaked out of his mouth. She chuckled along with him, and both spilled into laughter without quite understanding why. After catching their breath, both stepped through the double doors. Beyond stretched a green, sun-lit yard of tended grasses and bamboo. An umbrella shaded a small portion of a seating area next to a small locked cafe. Past that, the stone-tiled path turned to a courtyard crackling with a veritable forest of blazing laser fencing.
Ryuji gawked. "The shit?"
Makoto scanned the bristling courtyard. "These look way more dangerous than the alarm lasers across all those doors."
Ann scrutinized the stone-tile path through the courtyard, then looked at the dark museum building beyond. "With all this security, you think the Treasure is just past that?"
Morgana folded his crossbow. "There's never that much security unless there's something worth protecting."
Makoto nodded. "Indeed. Unless it's a decoy like the bamboo bombers we used to fool Allied airstrikes in the Second World War."
Akira crossed his arms, keeping a light grip on his sub-machine gun. "If I was an evil overlord, I would not have my command center clearly marked. If I must have publicly available maps of my complex, the display will have a room clearly marked as the main control room. That room will be the execution chamber. The actual main control room will be marked as sewage overflow containment."
Makoto gave him the side-eye. "That was rather developed for a quick punchline joke."
Akira let out a breath. "You're right, I should trim that one down some."
Ryuji spluttered. "You sayin' all this might be for nothin'?"
Morgana shook his head. "The Treasure is definitely further up from here. And that's the only entrance." He squinted, then hopped up onto Akira's shoulder, then head.
"Hey!"
"Hold still," the team leader snapped. He scanned the far side of the bristling courtyard. "I've seen that door before. Inside Madarame's shack. I'm sure of it."
Akira held a hand out at the criss-cross of lasers. "Well, how the hell do we get past that? That little security card they have disappears when they transform into their true Shadow selves."
Morgana hopped down and paced back to the double-doors where they just came from. "There's another way to open it. We just need to force a change in cognition." He led them back out of the museum and through another two guards who stumbled across them despite their attempts at stealth, but refused to say anything further until they escaped to the real world and streets beyond. The team leader turned to Ann. "Lucky for all of you, I went scouting while you were playing around with that artist."
Makoto shot a glare at him, the red of her eyes enhancing the effect. "You got bored and wandered off."
Morgana held his paw against his chest.
Ann rolled her eyes. "So where is it?"
Akira tilted his head at the team leader, now in the perfect resemblance of a small tuxedo cat. "Some real-world analog?"
Morgana beamed. "Exactly! There wasn't much on the second floor – just a bathroom, Madarame's suite… but also a painted blue door with a hefty lock just like the one across that lasered-off courtyard."
Ryuji finished disassembling his rifle and slipped its pieces into his school satchel. "But we wanna get through a door in the Palace."
Morgana sighed and shook his head. "Reaper, the likeness means there's a cognitive link. If we can get that door open in the real world in front of the real Madarame, it will leave it open and vulnerable in the Palace!"
Akira nodded. "Makes sense. In the real world, they have control centers deep behind layers of locked doors and closed-circuit TV cameras in jails, so there's likely the same kind of setup in Madarame's Palace. It's literally impossible to get in without somebody on the inside buzzing you on."
Ryuji turned a gloomy glance at the transfer student. "Right, they prolly had you locked up after that effin' bastard sicced those crummy lawyers on you."
Makoto tilted her head.
Akira waved her off. "It's the past. Let's focus on changing Madarame's heart." He looked to the team leader. "Only problem is, that means we have to get a lock open in real life. I think I could do it, but Madarame'd go after me for breaking and entering for sure."
Ann unscrewed the fake silencer on her model gun and slipped it in her bag, glancing at the others who already stowed their weapons. "I bet I could get Kitagawa-kun to let me inside. You think I could learn how to do it in time?"
Morgana's ears twisted. "Picking a serious lock is a very difficult thing. As hefty as it looked when I was scouting, I have a feeling it would be hard for me. No offense, guys, but I think Madarame would go after all of you same as he would after Joker. It just wouldn't land you all straight in prison like it would him." He shook his head. "No. It has to be me. I can't put any of you in that kind of danger. As long as we get the door open, his cognition will change."
Ryuji clenched a fist, the muscles in his face tight. "I ain't gonna just sit back. If this place in the Palace is all secure n' shit, I bet we're gonna hafta get inside quick before one o' those command centers just locks everythin' up again."
Morgana nodded. "Your Persona is the fastest and strongest we have. Joker? With the number of Personas you have, you should be able to get through whatever surprises they have in wait. Ann? I'll protect you from that silver-tongued so-called artist, and I'll get that door open." He turned to the last member. "I guess the last is you, Nightrider. Want to stand guard in the real world, or back up the ambush team in the Palace?"
Makoto rubbed her chin, eyes narrowing in thought. "Hm. I'm afraid of something unexpected happening in either place, but I can only be in one at once." Her eyes fell on the transfer student, then runner, then the blonde model. "Are you going to be okay with just B—Morgana?"
Akira stretched his neck. "You should go with Ann."
Ann shook her head at him. "If it gets bad, Morgana's small enough to hide plenty of places, and I can just run. An entourage might just tip them off early. I'm confident we don't have anything to worry about from Kitagawa-kun."
The class president stood straight and turned to the team leader in the transfer student's satchel. "Very well. We've been in some close scrapes in the bank, so best not underestimate this museum. I'll reinforce the ambush team."
Ryuji crossed his arms, looking serious for all of a second before a smirk spread. "I guess all that's left is for you to go nude."
The crack of flesh on flesh echoed across the street in front of Madarame's shack. Ann glared and withdrew her trembling hand from his face – the paleness in her own didn't escape their attention. "He canceled that threat, remember?" She crossed her arms, then pulled the blue jacket wrapped around her skirt and slipped it on, tugging it tight and holding with clenched fists.
Ryuji held his cheek. "I forgot, okay? It ain't like I was there to see whatever went down in the first place. You went all meltdown on chat, so of course that was what I remembered!"
Akira rubbed the side of his head. "Not even a month after taking down Kamoshida for sexual abuse and you're already making jokes about it? That's stupid, Ryuji, even for you."
"Dude, it's been two months." Ryuji glanced at the two girls. Seeing their glares, he stepped back. "I mean, I didn't think 'bout that." He scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, dudes. I really didn't."
Morgana came to a stop in front of the model. "If that no-good artist lays so much as one finger on your beautiful head, I'll scratch him until my paws bleed!"
Her hands remained tight on her jacket. "H-He's not going to do anything." She turned for the road to the train station. "Let's just get going. The sooner we can get this over with, the better." She stepped out at a strong walk.
"Rest tomorrow!" Morgana shouted after her, before returning to the transfer student's satchel.