Persona 5: Daywatch

Wednesday, 29 June 2016
Early Evening
Yongen, Leblanc Loft

Akira helped the artist set his canvas-wrapped bundle down on the table next to the top of the stairs, the lumpy mass hitting with a heavy sound like a cloth-wrapped turbine. He set his satchel down so the team leader could hop out.

Morgana stretched low, tail swishing in the air before reversing, head held high as his rear legs almost lay flat against the ground. A head-shake traveling through his entire body and tail completed the gesture. "I know better than to waste my breath trying to make you go to bed, but you two really should get some sleep." He trotted to his cushion on the bottom shelf. "I'm going to get a head start."

Yusuke set the two wooden A-frames against the table. "I feel I should apologize again—"

Akira took out a handkerchief and wiped the feeling of cloying grit the dirty canvas inflicted. "Dude, I am the last person you need to say sorry to about wanting to kill someone who took something precious from you." He flicked his hand as if trying to fling off something sticky, but the coiled sense of tension only spread through his body. He looked at the artist organizing glass jars of paint. "To be honest, you remind me of myself enough that it's a little unsettling. You like coffee?"

Shuffling through glass jars, Yusuke stacked them on the floor under the table. "I remember Nakanohara making coffee from powder."

"So never had the good stuff." Akira slipped his hands in his trouser pockets. "I'm too antsy to even try getting to sleep. If you'd like to try some, I'll buy you a cup."

A rumbling growl emanated from the artist's stomach. He looked away. "I'm already indebted—"

"No," Akira said. "Big K said even the best people need a generous hand once in a while if they want to walk the straight and narrow. When I said tough people help themselves, he showed me a speech by Arnold Swartzenaeger that there's no such thing as a self-made man."

Yusuke let out a soft huff of air, the small up-turn at the corners of his mouth reminding the transfer student of Hifumi's regal air. "I shall pay you back, I promi—"

"I'm all for remembering people who do favors for you, but not juggling a ledger for who owes what how much," Akira said. He took a measured pace down the old stairs, the eleventh and sixth steps creaking as the students took to the cafe proper. The proprietor turned a suspicious glare at the transfer student, but his gaze wavered when it locked onto the artist following him to a seat at the bar next to the coffee siphons. As a pair of salarymen on the older side of middle age walked in, Akira said, "Two cups of the house blend, and plates of your curry and rice."

Sojiro glanced at the new customers, his lips pressing thin for a moment before he straightened and said in his for-customers tone, "Coming right up."

The salaryman with a buzz-cut style hair sat down at the nearest booth to the front window. "That sounds excellent. We'll have the same."

Sojiro nodded and the salarymen busied themselves with several daily newspapers.

Yusuke set his sketchbook on the counter and folded his arms as if he wanted to clutch his stomach but not be seen doing so. "Who is this Big K?"

Akira reached one hand up high. "A real mountain of a man. Tall enough to look down on the Germans who came to stay at the Amagi Inn, and I thought they were the tallest people in the world. Ripped, too, though the kinda-uniform Amagi Inn employees wore didn't exactly show it off."

Yusuke tapped the fingers of one hand over his sketchbook, his eyes unfocusing as he tried to picture it. "He sounds intimidating."

Chuckles slipped out of the transfer student. "Contrary to popular mythology, real-life giants tend to be super chill." He flashed a smirk. "Must come with being able to reach items on the top shelf."

Even Sojiro chuckled at that as he set plates and cups in front of the students.

Akira bowed his head and clasped his hands and prayed he'd become anyone but someone like his old bastard before straightening and taking a sip. The house blend coffee was dark, bitter, and carried earthy tones but wasn't overwhelmed by that like the coffee the interns made at the Institute. Setting that on the saucer, he glanced at his side to see Yusuke digging in. He considered going back to his story before the door bell jingled and another three salarymen trudged in.

The pair of students ate as a more random assortment of rush-hour people looking for a break from home filtered in, most just grabbing a cup of coffee but some ordering the curry as well. Yusuke's spoon scraped over the plate as he went for every last scrap. "That was the most satisfying curry I have ever had the pleasure of consuming. I wonder how Boss managed to take the edge off the spice."

"Apples," Akira said, pointing at a cutting board on the other side of a counter. "Something about them helps mellow out the tumeric and cumin. The kitchen at Amagi Inn did the same thing."

Yusuke sat straighter after a full meal. "You sound like you are quite familiar with the place. Did your family stay there often?" He paused, then straightened with a look of epiphany. "Ah, I think I understand. It was a refuge from the crowds."

Akira rubbed the back of his head. "Not… exactly. First of all, while I'm not a fan of crowds, I never had a real problem with them until coming to Tokyo." He let out a long breath and lowered his voice. "I broke in to Amagi Inn late one night to get something to eat when mother locked me out." He looked down to his near-empty plate. "I… may have also started a fire because I didn't know how to use their kitchen equipment."

Sojiro, filling a new set of cups at the siphons, muttered, "You're not exactly convincing me to let you in my kitchen again."

"I was a dumb middle schooler!" Akira scraped up the last of the rice and curry and swallowed, then pushed the plate back. "They had ovens and deep friers, stuff I'd never seen at the Institute." He checked the time on his phone, but felt even more like going out on a run than before sitting down to eat. "Anyway, this old broad puts out the fire and the inn heiress herself shows up to see things at the worst possible moment. She calls the fuzz, but Big K showed up first and said it would be better to put me to work to pay off the damage."

Sojiro carried emptied cups from the first group to bail and set them in the sink. "Sounds like a harrowing experience."

Akira waved down. "Nah. I got caught trespassing places all around the Institute and the cops always let me go as soon as they called in." He crossed his arms. "Made me overconfident. But Big K wanted to do it a different way, heard my stomach growling from not eating for three days and gave me the food I wanted in the first place. I figured even if he just wanted me on the hook for something, better to take his way than the angry lady's. I'd have dared them to call the cops if it was my old bastard, but I was with mother at the time." A smile broke out over his face. "That was technically my first job. I never collected an actual paycheck, but… I got to cook. And not just for myself. I never really thought about being able to do constructive things before." He tapped his fingertips against the counter, a bitter smile slipping over his face. "You know what? I think Big K was the first guy who convinced me he wasn't out for whatever he could get out of me. Dude knew all about being labeled and scared of society and just wanted people to have an honest shot to be who they could be." A chuckle slipped out. "Even showed me a picture of him and his crew back when he was in high school. He had the whole dyed-blond 'I'm a rebel' thing like Ryuji."

A long beat with nothing but the clink of spoons and coffee cups filled the café.

"Yusuke?" Akira turned.

The artist sat there, his attention consumed with his sketch pad, a fat pencil scribbling away just quiet enough it didn't sound over the ambient noise. His dark grey eyes flicked up and his face contorted as if he saw something terrible. "Please, just hold that pose for a moment longer."

Akira arched an eyebrow, but figured he'd humor the artist this once. Hunching forward, he put his hand back, though he turned his head to watch the skinny teen. From this angle, he could just make out a piece of one of his earlier drawings. "Hey, wait a second. You've been drawing me?"

Yusuke's pencil scratched and scribbled back and forth.

"Yusuke?"

The pencil scratched along the paper.

"Earth to Yusuke."

The pencil finished a stroke and the artist looked up. "Is there something wrong?"

Akira pointed to the sketch pad and used a finger to lift up a page to get a clear view of the previous sketch. Himself, bowed in his nightly prayers. His black, loose-fitting shirt reminded him of a hunched monster, his messy hair resembling a wild child, his clenched hands making him think of dying patients on TV medical dramas. "Do I really look like that?"

Yusuke looked the transfer student in the eye. "Ever since I first saw the Sayuri, I have been captivated by portrayals of human emotion. Instants of the truth of our hearts, bared to the world. Sensei said that was why we should never be ashamed of the human body." He flipped more pages back, Ann filling them. "I saw Takamaki-san at the train station in Shibuya, her passion irrepressible. Her youthful sensuality something she claimed with every confident step and bat of her eyes. Her cheer blazed amid a sea of children being taught to fear showing any emotion." He threw his pencil-hand wide, almost hitting a salaryman getting out of the booth. "But your invitation to share your domicile has been more than a safe place of refuge to lay my head for the night. It has shown me another person burning with rage at injustice, agony at the cold world's cruelty, and a fear of failure in a soul refusing to retreat." He clapped the sketchbook closed. "You must let me paint you!"

A yawn forced its way out of Akira's mouth, the day's crawl through the museum weighing down on him. "Maybe… after a good night's sleep."

Afternoon?
Rekisen Park?

A gentle wind blew, taking the edge off the heat. A hedge of tended trees surrounded all three sides of the cozy nook of the park around them, the sky above them a dull blue uninterrupted by clouds. His Go board sat on the stone table in front of him, but all his attention fell on the girl standing beside it.

Batting those gorgeous green eyes at him, Hifumi clasped her hands behind her back. "It's good to see you." The dark purple dress she wore ruffled in the breeze and made her shining eyes seem all the brighter. The soft smile and glint in her eyes at meeting his made his heart swell.

Akira jogged around the bench, his Shujin uniform feeling less constricting than usual. She raised her arms with the dignified certainty of a true royal and he threw his arms around her. The warmth and strength of someone's arms around him sent a jolt like electricity through him.

With a serenity which could only come from her, Hifumi tilted her face up and puckered her lips, patiently waiting as he closed the distance—

Thursday, 30 June 2016
Early Morning
Yongen, Leblanc Loft

Beep! Beep! screeched a strange phone's alarm.

Akira's eyes opened to his pillow and rumpled sheets, his arms around empty air. No kind, green eyes. The sense of absence swept over him like a rogue wave, and an emptiness in his chest and arms slammed down like a continental plate. He threw off the sheet and pushed himself to sitting, sucking in air which wouldn't fill his imploding chest as one hand slapped for his phone to shut it up. His eyes welled up and he didn't even bother reaching for his glasses. He wouldn't be able to see anyway. His heart had burned before, but anger was easy to deal with. It fueled him like no oil could a machine. This feeling just took and took.

Wasn't it enough to see other people from a distance in the real world? Did his dreams have to taunt him with things he could never have, just for the world to snatch them away and laugh?

The blurry sheet over Yusuke flew back and the artist stumbled to his feet. "Akira, what happened? Are you sick?" He took a few morning-unsteady steps closer and reached out.

Slapping the artist's hand away even as he wheezed for air, Akira snatched for the kerchief to press it over his face and wipe with trembling hands.

He made the mistake of letting people see him cry before.

Never.

Again.

Faint pattering hit the floor in the direction of the bookshelf. Morgana's voice came, full of command, "Whoa, Fox! He needs his room to breathe."

Just to add insult to injury, Battle for the Pyramid sang from his phone and he stormed over to turn off his morning alarm, then chucked the damnable device to his bed. The daylight streaming in through his windows wobbled and Akira realized he was trembling, his limbs feeling leaden and his head light. He could almost feel Hifumi's arms around him for a breath and somehow that just made him feel more like crumpling into a heap. But he couldn't with that damn artist rooming with him.

"This cannot be normal," Yusuke said as casual footsteps paced closer. "Do you need to see Doctor T—"

Snarling, Akira slapped away the slender hand reaching for him. He gnashed his teeth together and spun on the ball of his foot, then stormed downstairs. The harsh pounding of his feet down the steps gave him some reassurance that something in this world was still real and reacted in unflinching, non-intruding fashion. He slammed the washroom's door closed, then had to shove it back a second time when it bounced from the force of his first motion.

With nobody else to witness him, he fell against the tiled wall and slid down, his whole body shaking and hot tears streaming down his face. Darkness crept in at the corners of his vision and he forced a deep gasp in, then deep gasp out with the rhythm they taught him for marathon running in grade school. After what he hoped was minutes but felt like an eternity, the shaking and darkness receded. Despite the creaky pains in his body, Akira flipped on the cold water tap and splashed his face, then straightened his sleep clothes and headed back upstairs to change for the day.

Before reaching the top, Yusuke's voice floated down from the loft, "…seems so strange to think of nightly terrors in one who awakened to his Persona so long ago."

Morgana gave a feline, "Nyahum." A beat later, he said, "Joker's always been pretty high-strung. Maybe that's part of why he nominated me to be the leader when Lady Ann tried to nominate him. His jokes are as much a mask for him in the real world as that avian domino mask is in the Metaverse. He should talk to somebody, but if he is it's never around me. He just got angry with me when I tried to ask him to talk about what his nightmares are, so all we can do is wait until he's ready. He's been a reliable Phantom Thief so far, so I have no reason to force him to divulge his personal demons. After all, don't we all have ghosts in our past? Personal stakes in being Phantom Thieves?"

The artist gave a hum of assent.

Akira clomped up the stairs. Yusuke's eyes scanned the transfer student, but after a beat he trotted to the rolling garment rack, unzipped it, and drew a pair of black pants. The transfer student came to a stop next to him and the two students changed in silence. After making the bed, Akira checked his homework, packed it, then collected Morgana and followed the artist down.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw Hifumi, lips puckered. And each time, he wished he could cut out his own heart to stop it from feeling like it was imploding in his chest.

Thursday, 30 June 2016
After School
Shujin, Practice Building

Akira rubbed his hands on his trousers to get off the feeling of sweat. While his breathing normalized hours ago, he couldn't get that phantom sensation of Hifumi's touch out of his mind. He needed something – anything – to get this out so he could focus. He swallowed and tried to tell himself there was no reason to be nervous. According to Makoto, that counselor had all the proper certifications and expressed no desire but to help the students. As much as it vexed his paranoia, all his friends besides Mishima had glowing reviews of the shrink.

Cute But Annoying stood in the doorway to the nurse's office, chatting with someone inside, but she stopped when she noticed the transfer student's approach. She gave a sunny smile. "Akira-senpai, good afternoon. I was just finishing a session. Did you decide to try it out?"

Akira wrapped his arms around his torso.

Yoshizawa's head tilted a bit. "You okay, Senpai?"

Akira straightened and cleared his throat as if that could make everything seem normal. "You getting some too?"

She gave a small smile and nod. "Yup! Doctor Maruki is a wonderful counselor. I was seeing him before he came to Shujin."

The counselor himself stopped at the doorway and rubbed the back of his neck. "Don't oversell me too much, Yoshizawa-san. I'm not special."

Yoshizawa covered her mouth with her hand to hide her smile. "We'll have to disagree on that one, Doctor. Please excuse me." Lowering her hand, she gave a formal bow and trotted off.

Maruki gave a show smile that only seemed to add to the tension in the air. He reached out a hand for a handshake, then drew it back halfway and started to bow, then tried to go back to the handshake at the same time as the transfer student returned a bow. Maruki let out a nervous laugh. "I'm glad that you've decided to give it a chance. I'll do my best to make sure it's worth your time. I'm sure you're very busy, Kur—no, you didn't like going by your family name. Do you mind if I call you Akira-kun?"

The transfer student shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. His bag felt too light without Morgana, but as reliable as the team leader had been he couldn't make himself talk about Hifumi around the not-cat. He'd be fine with Makoto today.

Maruki led the way inside, letting the transfer student close the door after. Going on about confidentiality, the counselor took off his long white coat and set it on a hangar in the corner, then sat down in the far stuffed chair and pointed at the other one. Without the lab coat, the short, shaggy brown hair and short-sleeved blue button-down shirt made him look much more like an ordinary office worker. "Please, don't be so tense. We're just going to chat about anything you want."

Akira slipped his hands in his pockets and tried not to glare. Just because he reminded him of a couple shrinks at the Smiling Mountain Mental Institute didn't mean he was the same as those power-tripping bastards. Or wasn't. "I'm sure you know all about me thanks to the spy network at Shujin. I know nothing about you."

It wasn't true, but Akira didn't need to say he'd been vetting the guy for months. Information asymmetry was the root of all power imbalance.

Maruki set a notepad on his lap. "Fair enough. I'm Maruki Takuto, I was studying psychology before coming to Tokyo to try to scrounge up funding for research, but my patrons… got cold feet. The Madarame Foundation was my latest shot to get my research re-started, but I'm starting to think they've backed out too, so I guess I should count myself lucky Shujin was hiring or I might not have a roof over my head." He gave a nod to redirect the conversation. "And you? I hope you're being treated well at your guardian's home."

His body feeling too stiff for a believable shrug, Akira lifted a hand for a moment. "Boss is a bit of a hardass, but I can't complain." This wasn't working, he didn't give a shit about jobs or the doctor's pet projects. All he wanted was to be free of that crushing absence where Hifumi's arms weren't.

His cheeks flushed.

His eyes burned.

That void where his lips should have met hers in the dream taunted him. How pathetic was it that even in a dream he couldn't imagine what her lips would feel like against his?

Akira sat down in the chair opposite the bespectacled man. "You're… not allowed to tell anyone else what's said in a counseling session, are you?" Growing up in the Smiling Mountain Mental Institution taught him a lot about psychology, but not how therapists who healed broken minds did their thing.

Maruki set his papers aside, drawing straight at the change in atmosphere. "Absolutely not. Doctor-patient confidentiality is held in strictest confidence. I think priestly confession is the only other one as protected by law." He got up and hastened to a binder-bag next to a laptop on the nurse's desk, unzipped it, and pulled out a set of stapled papers. Returning to the chairs around the coffee table, he took a cheap candy bar from the basket and set it on them and set it all in front of the transfer student. "Here, these are standard counseling boilerplate but apply to what I do here same as when I tried to get a private practice up and running. And… you look like you could use a snack."

Akira took off his glasses and hooked them on his collar before drawing his red handkerchief to rub at his eyes. The pressure helped fight the burning sensation. "How… how do you get over a girl?"

"Oof," Maruki said, clasping his hands over his notepad. "Straight to the hardest questions. You have to leave a sweetheart behind when you moved to Tokyo?"

Picking up his glasses, the nervous roiling in his gut grew, so instead of putting his glasses back on, he folded and turned them over in his hands. At this distance the counselor was clear either way, but the transfer student still couldn't meet his eyes. "No, she's here, but… some people aren't good for other people."

The counselor nodded. "She put you down around her friends? Or is the relationship just getting close enough for toxic personality traits to come out?"

Akira almost stood from his chair. "No, Hifumi would never do anything like that!" For a heartbeat he thought he saw a widening of the counselor's eyes, but once his mouth started working he couldn't stop it, "She's kind almost to a fault, hard-working, not just smart but brilliant, doesn't even let my stupid shit slide, graceful, principled but inviting, composed in public but passionate about her commitments, positive without being one of those ignorant pushovers…" When he ran out of breath, he slapped a hand over his face. So much for making a case he was better off without.

Maruki gave a small grin. "She sounds really special. Pretty, too?"

"Beautiful!" Akira slapped his other hand over his face. Stupid mouth. "She's got real family. Real friends. Real prospects." He set his glasses on the table to rub the sides of his head with his fingers. Akira told the counselor about his banishment to Tokyo, the destruction of his social life at Shujin before it could begin thanks to Kamoshida, and the safe harbor he found at Kanda Catholic Church. "It's not that I don't like her. But I have to be rational. My life is filled with problems. And the common factor is me."

The counselor studied him from across the table. "Have you had a bad relationship in the past?"

That imploding feeling grew in his chest. "No chance to." Akira huffed. "Not with girls, anyway."

Nodding, Maruki scribbled at his notepad. "It sounds like things are different now."

Akira's hands banged onto the table. "But I'm the one with problems everywhere in my life. I'm the one with a court conviction. Do you know how eager people are to blacklist or malign someone for having a record? Do you think it would ever stop at just me?" He put his glasses back on, his heart in his throat for long moments. "I can't do that to her."

The corner of the counselor's lip curled up before he straightened and coughed into his fist. "You know, I have counseled people with arrest records before. Some of them even had wives or husbands. They're still people, too. The most fundamental principle guiding all human behavior is seeking happiness. Epicurious."

Straightening his glasses, Akira closed his mouth. He wanted to say Epicurious held a childish, over-simplified view of human psychology. "Shouldn't that just be more reason not to want to bring her all my baggage?"

A few beats of contemplation passed before Maruki allowed a faint smile. "You know, most people would consider wanting their loved ones to have a better life to be a virtue. What's she said about all this?"

Akira found it impossible to meet the counselor's eyes. "I never told her about my record. I think she might be the one person in Tokyo who doesn't already know." He clasped his hands and fidgeted. "It'd only be a matter of time before I screw it up. That's the one constant in my life." The aching emptiness he felt since that morning tore at him. The memory of the soft, expectant smile Hifumi gave him when they were about to sit down to a match. Then the whispers in the halls of Shujin, or the locker room talk when they didn't know he was there. Or how much he wanted to do the lewder things to her. "I can't even keep my thoughts about her… pure."

"So you're sexually attracted to her," the counselor said, his expression nonplussed. The bland, indifferent tone and stance threw the transfer student off. "Akira-kun, it would be strange if you never had any of those thoughts about anyone. Teenage years are the stage of life where men realize women exist." He glanced down at his notes. "And it doesn't sound like you're stuck on one physical aspect of her. You talked about her family, you know about her history, you respect her intellectually. What about what she thinks? Is she always on edge when you're together?"

Her perky attentiveness of their last meeting popped into mind. "No. But she also doesn't know…" Akira thought back. They exchanged a few details, but he let her do more of the talking. He never divulged why he was in Tokyo. "She doesn't know about my assault conviction."

Maruki scribbled for a few seconds before looking back up. "Well, you don't deserve those charges to start with. If there was anything I could do about them…" His eyes took an unfocused quality for a beat and something inside the transfer student coiled. Maruki shook his head. "Short of never seeing her again, the odds of her finding out from a source other than yourself increase over time. Given the cringe you just gave, wouldn't it make the most sense to tell her and let Hifumi decide for herself what your record means?"

The familiar clenching sensation returned to Akira's gut, but the counselor was right. Learning about her was easy enough—despite her own wishes, her mother was set on turning her into someone famous. She already bumped into Makoto in Jinbocho once. No matter how much he liked the refuge she gave from his record, how long until they met someone who wouldn't think twice about letting his past slip? As soon as the idea came from someone else's mouth, it seemed so much more straightforward than his own night-time ruminations. "Do you think I really have to…?"

A sad sigh slipped out of Maruki's mouth. "Akira-kun, even if I could make you forget your record, there are a few too many other people who would have to forget, too. It might be another thing to forget about Hifumi to protect her from unintended consequences…"

"Never!" Akira shook his head. Just the idea of not seeing her again made that imploding sensation inside come back with a vengeance. "The trajectory of my life changed the day I met her, learned that pure virtue really existed." She was a living, breathing example of every good thing a human could be. He tried to tell himself it was just wanting to help her, but he had to fight in a sigh just at the prospect of looking into those deep, green eyes.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

The rest of the Phantom Thieves were explaining the nature of Palaces and Treasures to Yusuke in the group chat. "I didn't realize it had gotten that late. I should get going."

Maruki gave one of those show-smiles. "Well, don't feel compelled to stay on my account. I'm here for you. If you ever want another session, you know where to find me."

Akira nodded and stood, a text to Queen Togo already composed before he was even out of the nurse's office, [Do you have any free time today?] He slid the door closed and aimed for the library to switch out books.

Inside the nurse's office, Maruki stared at the closed door after the transfer student and scratched down notes on the session. The girl could have been anyone to a love-struck boy, but something about the particulars reminded him of the Togos. "Hifumi… No. There's no way the world is that small."

Thursday, 30 June 2016
After School
Shujin, Practice Building

Akira stepped out of the nurse's office and kept walking despite the buzzing in his pocket until he got to the door to the courtyard. He leaned against the concrete wall and closed his eyes. The mental image of Hifumi, arms around him still sprang to mind, lips puckered and those deep green eyes closed in expectation, but this time his stomach didn't twist so hard it threatened to return lunch.

Akira-kun, it would be strange if you never had any of those thoughts about anyone. Teenage years are the stage of life where men realize women exist, echoed in his mind. It doesn't sound like you're stuck on one physical aspect of her. You talked about her family, you know about her history, you respect her intellectually.

So having the same thoughts his mother acted on when she abandoned him most days in the week in Inaba didn't make him the same obsessed creature. For the first time, he dared to wonder if Hifumi had any thoughts like his. She seemed too pure to have sexual desire.

The buzzing in his pocket continued, so Akira took a deep breath and drew his phone. The Phantom Thieves were discussing the Metaverse, but with Morgana out of the loop, the conversation meandered and repeated old points. A separate text from Makoto asked him to come pick up Morgana so the team could have a proper briefing. He headed to the library to take the team leader up to the roof.

The scent of budding flowers and thyme tickled Akira's nose as he stepped out onto the unoccupied rooftop where Morgana could talk. Darkness spread over him and Akira glanced up to see clouds passing in front of the sun. After settling in under the overhang shielding the door, Akira checked the Phantom Thief chat. Ann and Ryuji were still explaining their escapades in Kamoshida's castle, so Morgana directed the rest of the conversation.

Three dots danced next to Yusuke's ID. [I had no idea of that PE teacher's depravity. I am thankful the Phantom Thief changed his heart.] A beat passed before he added, [I should say Phantom Thieves.]

Ryuji's ID popped up. [Damn, you're sure taking the Phantom Thieves and Metaverse pretty well.]

[What would I gain by doubting my own eyes?] Yusuke texted. [I have seen the manifestation of my master's dark heart twice. To doubt your words would be to doubt my own senses. Hitoshi-san was very open he doubted not only in the world, but his very mind and body. I cannot follow the way he walked.]

Perched on the transfer student's shoulders, Morgana's ears twisted against his skull at the reminder of the artist's compatriot who threw himself in front of a train. "No surprise that scars from losing his compatriot are still around a year later."

Akira nodded. Even though the artist never said anything against him, the simple, even casual air made him think of the scars down his own wrists. Yusuke's response to betrayal by the only human constant in his life was to stand tall and ask about the Sayuri. Akira lifted his free hand to look at the sleeve, imagining the long white lines dragging down his wrists. No, this wasn't the time to indulge in self-pity. His world then was nothing but torment. The Phantom Thieves relied on him now. [All we have to do is steal Madarame's Treasure and his heart will change just like Kaneshiro and Kamoshida.]

Makoto popped up next. [It will be difficult. A Palace is the heart of his distortion, and we had to fight through waves of assassins before we could convince Kaneshiro to give up. But if the Phantom Thieves could do it once even before me, the chances are even better with you joining us.]

[Fork yeah!] Ryuji sent.

Three dots danced next to Yusuke's ID for a moment and disappeared, then reappeared before he texted, [If I had faced reality sooner, so much suffering might have been avoided. Nakanohara-san asked us to leave with him. Sensei made it out to be posturing in front of his girlfriend, but if I had acted then, Hitoshi-san, Mari-san and Rin-san might be alive today.]

Ann sent, [You can't blame yourself for not knowing then what you know now.]

Three dots danced next to Makoto's ID. [Madarame robbed the future from a lot of artists. He set up the Madarame Foundation to find vulnerable young adults he could exploit. We can at least stop him from doing it again.]

Yusuke sent, [I must join you. He won't change his mind of his own. He still wants to know where I and Takamaki-san are. For the sake of all the futures he robbed… I must put an end to Madarame's machinations. It would be the most civil thing I can do for him.] A beat passed before he added, [For the man who was the only father I ever knew.]

Ann texted, [You're so considerate. I was concerned you'd be stuck on a rampage of revenge, but it's nice to have a calm personality on the team. Makoto and Akira can both be scary when the fighting starts.]

A moment passed before Yusuke sent, [As ironic as this may seem, I have Madarame to thank for that. He always taught me it is a dispassionate eye which shall see the truth. His connections spread far in the art world, and beyond. Someone like me would be snuffed out if I attempted to stand up to him alone. The Metaverse may be our only option.]

Three dots danced next to Ann's ID, but then disappeared.

After a few moments, Makoto sent, [I hope we all get along, Kitagawa-kun. It's a relief to see you don't hold the bad impression we made to start with against us. Any guess about when his lawyers would take legal action?]

[He wasn't willing to have the police arrest me at Kosei, so he needs to keep this all out of the public eye. Bad media attention would ruin the exhibit, but he will have the time on his hands to come up with something else after it ends. That means we have no more than two weeks.]

Akira straightened. [Leader said we were closing in before, so it shouldn't be long now. Today is a rest day, so take the opportunity to find something in the real world to attend to. Maybe visit a park or cook lunch for the week. We'll get to the Museum tomorrow.]

Ryuji popped up next. [Oh! We should take him to Gigolo!]

Three dots danced next to Yusuke's ID for only a moment. [There are limits even to MY openness to new experiences.]

Makoto's spluttered laugh rose up from the library's open window.

Ryuji wasted no time to go on the counter-offensive. [Dude, it's an arcade! They all have Gun About, it's the greatest shooter simulation out there.]

One of Morgana's ears twisted. "Why does Reaper's enthusiasm fill me with a sense of dread?"

"Eh," Akira tossed back in lieu of a casual shrug. "It's a good idea. That katana wasn't a bad start, but guns are the bread and butter of armies across the world for a reason. Every little bit could help us against Madarame's Shadow." [Could you take him today, Ryuji?]

[Totally!] Ryuji followed up with a link to the Shibuya arcade so the artist would have an address.

[I am afraid I would be unable to pay for a day of gaming.]

Ryuji was not to be deterred. [Don't worry about that, I got a bunch of money when we snuck into Kaneshiro's bank.]

That sorted out, Akira swept the chat aside to check his messenger. Hifumi sent him a response that her mother was pressuring her about grades, but she would like to talk to him after cram school. He paused to give a brief prayer her family situation would ease up on her.

Thursday, 30 June 2016
Evening
Marunouchi, Nijubashi Square

The smells of shrimp and ground pork drifted through the mood-lit square, the paper boats from their snacks long since thrown away and school papers taking their place on the little table. After almost two hours of math, Akira's tutor and crush suggested a break. His record dangled over his head like the sword of Damocles. He swallowed, unable to look her in those green eyes he could drown in. The lull in their activity left the perfect time to tell her about his conviction. He rubbed the back of his neck and ran through a few scenarios in the privacy of his mind.

Hey, Hifumi. The school counselor said I should tell you about my arrest record after I told him I've been dreaming of kissing you.

Yeah, that would lead to a swift slap. And now he couldn't stop looking at her glossy pink lips.

Togo-san, what would you say if somebody got into fights on the regular, except for one time I didn't beat up a drunk corporate chairman type? That one time I didn't fight I got arrested and convicted of assault.

He could just imagine her putting those slender fingers to her chin in thought for a moment. Such a reprehensible person shouldn't make excuses about how the victim justifies the crime, even through insinuation.

She was even classy and astute when telling him off in a hypothetical. Akira flinched and cleared his throat in a vain effort to clear the bitter taste on his tongue.

Hifumi paused, almost straightened after lifting her school bag with one hand and her folded travel shogi board in the other. Those sharp eyes flicked over him and she settled the folded board back in her bag. "You're right, we play shogi all the time and we need a change of pace. Did you bring your Go board?"

Akira found a way to scramble in his seat, but managed to get it out and set up without making a complete fool of himself. Some parts were missing.

As they began, the sound of distant cars and air traffic competing with the closer people in humdrum conversation for a backdrop which all blended together until it left Akira and the shogi maestra in a curious sense of quiet seclusion. "You know, when I first got to Tokyo, I thought I was going to go crazy. The sound washes over you like the tides, overwhelming and endless." He set his black stone down. "But I think I understand what people mean by 'white noise' now. Surrounded by sound, but somehow it's like the silence of a winter night up in the mountains."

Hifumi gave a smile which teased just a hint of teeth, sending butterflies through the transfer student's stomach. "I never really thought about that. Tokyo has its hot spots for noise, but I've never really considered it as anything but just… Tokyo." She picked up a white stone, and despite the relative darkness he could see the gears whirling behind her dark eyes.

A faint sigh leaked out of Akira's mouth. If there was ever an instant in time worthy of being immortalized in a frame, that was it. A humble school uniform over sensuous curves… though that intensity in her pretty green eyes seemed dimmer today even as she strategized and counter-strategized.

She cleared her throat. "Um, Akira-kun? Your turn."

His face felt like it burned. Now it seemed like an even worse time to bring up his record. He coughed into his sleeve, then picked up a black stone and set it on the board. "R-read anything interesting lately?"

Hifumi straightened in her seat, the disappointed impatience smothered beneath a snow-melting smile. It was such a small quirk of her lips, but a brightness which sparked her eyes and even lifted her shoulders. "Oh, yes. Finals are coming up so I've been hitting the books a lot this week, but Ooe-sensei – my language arts teacher – assigned Flowers for Algernon. It was as fascinating as unsettling. Just imagining having mental gifts exceeding almost anything seen in mankind and watching them slip through your hands day by day sends chills down my spine." Her eyes flitted to his school satchel. "I noticed you have a different book in your bag. Have you finished The Screwtape Letters?"

Akira opened his mouth to say he has it resting on his top shelf next to In the Grove, but realized that might not mean anything to her. "I read it cover to cover twice." He set down another stone.

She reached for a white stone, but paused to scan the board for a second before setting it down. "Anything stand out to you?"

Akira set down another stone, but left his hand on the corner of the board. "The demons' interpretation of time."

She clasped her hands in her lap, her shoulders relaxed but a focus in her gaze turning on him. "Oh?"

"The way Screwtape referred to time more like a point or… maybe the inside of a sphere so it was all just… there instead of being a linear thing with the past and the present being distant things like how we experience time." He shook his head and took his hand off the board. "It was such a trippy concept."

That soft smile which could melt snow and made his knees feel weak came out again. "I must have read it ten times and I never really noticed that, but you're right. It makes the whole concept of choices and consequences take on a whole different angle when the effect and cause are all wrapped up together." She set down another stone, but then her visage grew somber and her lips pressed thin. "Probably a good thing past and future aren't one close thing for us humans, though." She shook her head and set down a white stone. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be boring you—"

"Nonsense," Akira said, just catching himself from standing out of his flimsy metal chair. "Togo-san, you are a lot of things. But you have never been boring. If there's anything I can do, even just listening, I'll do it." He glanced at the scrap papers under the board. Trying to push his record on her just felt selfish now. "Is it stress over school?"

"No." A shy smile pushed its way across Hifumi's face, sending butterflies through his stomach again. "Well, not Kosei per se. I do have to keep above eighty-five percent to maintain my scholarship, but I've never been worried about that. To be honest, it's probably trying to mollify Mother. She'll throw parties when I get excellent marks on my tests, but dances around disappointment when 'all I get is good'."

Akira set down a black stone. "Sounds like Madarame."

Hifumi stared down at the board with a scowl, her eyes stopping on one of the papers underneath. "Mother tries her best. I know she cares. It's the thoughtlessness of strangers that bothers me more." She laid down a white stone with a clack rumbling the whole board.

Akira scanned the board, realizing she was pushing his pieces around already. He set a black stone down. His face warmed at the memory of the jerk in a blue button-down shirt who taught him the name Venus of Shogi. The mental picture of a nude Hifumi standing on a scallop shell popped into his mind. How could he have thought it was a good idea to tell her he had an assault conviction? Akira shook his head. "S-so, some rando accosted you on the street?"

She let out a ragged sigh and covered her eyes for a moment as if she couldn't bear to see the night square at all. "It's even worse than that." Hifumi rubbed her temples. "One of the students from class 3-1 asked about Mother running a hostess club right in front of everyone!" She glanced down at the board and slammed a white stone down. "That's how I found out Tokyo Today ran an exposé on me." She drew in a shaky breath. "I did an interview with them a couple weeks ago, and know they interviewed Mother a bit later, but… they went so much further. They just… threw out everything about my family no matter how little it had to do with shogi. Papa being bedridden… Mother being the only income earner left… that burglar who hurt Rumi, auntie Kiyoko and uncle Michio…" She sighed and sat back, her shoulders slumping.

Akira set a black stone down. "It can be infuriating how the papers can just throw out any garbage they want."

Hifumi braced both elbows on the table. "It's not that it's untrue, but… capitalizing on my family's pain just seems…"

"Cruel," Akira said, his voice low. "And worse, cruelty for profit." He stretched out his hand to take hers, but the instant his fingertip brushed her fist her eyes jerked up and he shot back as if burned.

Hifumi wrapped her arms around herself. Though her eyes turned, steady to the board, her shoulders pinched together and he could see deep shadows from the taught muscles in her neck. "To be honest, I've been avoiding going back home because I have to tell Mother about it. But…"

Akira reached a hand out but stopped himself short of touching her crossed arms and lowered his. "You're not looking forward to the inevitable screaming match when Miss Overbearing finds out."

She straightened in her seat and her arms crossed tighter, but her lips pressed in a pout and the aura of fear and uncertainty lifted from her. "Akira!" Hifumi huffed, and for a fraction of a second he thought he saw the corners of her lips turn up. "You're extremely blunt…" Her shoulders slouched. "But also correct." She let out a chuff, but the dimness in her eyes left no mistake about the self-deprecating smile she gave. She set down a white stone. "Have you read it?"

His eyes fell away from hers and he forced them onto the board. He picked up a black stone and mulled where his best possibilities were. "I… have seen some of your interviews and photos in other magazines. But if I wanted to know something about you, I think I'd rather learn it from you than take it from a magazine. Even if it was true, it would feel like stealing to me." He set his stone down.

She took another stone between her index and middle fingers, but her eyes came to rest on him. Those sharp lines in her face and neck settled and she let out a long breath. "How ironic I feel better about you knowing because you said you don't need to know, at least from someone else." She set down her stone. "Now if only it could be that easy to break the news to Mother."

"Want me to tell her?" Akira prodded, a bit of a playful smirk slipping out.

Hifumi slapped her hand over her face. "God, no! Mother would have a conniption if she saw me with a boy." A beat passed before she slid her hand down and turned up her nose. "A gentleman should know better than to taunt a lady." She maintained the regal disdain for another beat before her breath burst out and laughter overtook her, and he lasted even less time before he joined. "Thank you, Akira. I feel like our little talk has given me the bravery I need to face my mother."

He bowed in his seat. "For Queen Togo? Anywhere, any time."

Their game finished, and the city noise pressed in on them. He swallowed, this relative silence would be the best time to confess, but when she gave him one of those delighted smiles his breath fled. He walked her to the train station, tongue-tied and shy until the subway doors snapped closed. As the wind from the departing train swirled through the station, he could almost see his metaverse alter-ego spreading his arms and pronouncing to the crowd around him, "Ladies and gentleman, the brave Kurusu Akira!"

AN: The order of a few things is going to be shuffled a bit by the necessity of a world that's already had two stones thrown in the pond. Akira is one of those, and the other will be making more prominent appearances soon.

The Power of Friendship has been a frequent part of stories I've read lately, but Romance is a new genre for me to poke into. While Daywatch isn't exactly a romance, it's supposed to have some and will pick up more as different relationships become established. What do you think?

Two chapters posted in celebration of the holiday and end of year, Happy Christmas everyone! And now the stories posted here and on AO3 have been synchronized, people following along at either place should see fully new content post next week.