Persona 5: Daywatch

Friday, 1 July 2016
After School
Madarame's Museum

Akira kept his weapon low as he followed the two shotgun-users, Makoto and Ryuji, into the new section of the museum. Minimalist padded couches furnished the large, open room. Unlike the bland walls of the outer exhibit halls to help the artwork stand out, the walls here looked like golden screen paintings, with dark leafless trees and hazy mountains.

And in the middle of everything stood one of those tall, gold-robed Shadows.

Ryuji snapped to the corner with his gun in both hands and signaled to the others something lay ahead. Makoto leaned out a little to get a better view of the tall Shadow.

The transfer student glanced at Morgana for a silent query over which one would start this one. Somehow, Yusuke picked up on the exchange and knelt close to the team leader to whisper, "May I unmask this one?"

Morgana looked up to Akira with a shrug, and received one in return. The team leader waited until Goldie looked the other way before leading the Thieves into the room, taking what limited cover the minimalist furniture provided. He gave one last gesture to get behind Goldie.

Yusuke nodded, then dashed out behind Goldie and leaped, his empty left hand reaching for the thick mask. "Let your true self be known!"

The Shadow spasmed and swelled, consumed by black before it burst into a towering humanoid figure made of white paper folded in sharp lines. It glared down at them with a rumbling growl paper shouldn't be able to make.

Ryuji was the first to take a shot at it with his shotgun, then another blast with the semi-automatic weapon.

Akira gave it a burst from his sub-machine gun, but he couldn't even see bullet holes from the impact. "Well, this reminds me just a little too much of Owner."

Morgana cried out, "Zorro!" and his Persona coalesced above him, blazing like foxfire lighting its eyes before the same wispy aura flickered over the towering Shadow, throwing it into the wall.

Makoto followed up with a fire bolt.

The Shadow righted itself and looked straight at Makoto before it roared.

Everybody cringed back at the noise, but Johanna dissipated and Makoto stumbled back with her hands clapped over her ears, her shotgun falling and only the lanyard keeping it hanging on her shoulders. She gave an angry bellow with a wild look in her eyes before she charged forward, her plated gloves crashing against the giant paper golem with the soft sound of paper rustling and no sign of damage.

Morgana tsked. "Looks like it's effectively immune to physical damage, and Zorro didn't do much to it. Blast it with your magic, Thieves!"

Ann gave a wicked smile underneath her feline mask. "Time for me to shine. Dance, Carmen!" The dancer flicked an open hand, tossing an exploding ball of ice at the towering paper monstrosity, knocking it growling back.

The paper humanoid flicked its hands up as if to bare its hollow arms at the Thieves. Akira and Ryuji dove out of the way an instant before a howl of what sounded like rapid gun-fire roared at them, shredding a stuffed ottoman.

Akira considered Orthrus, but with Makoto still punching the enemy in a blind rage, he knew they wouldn't be able to reinforce each other. "Reaper, let's give it an extra serving of beatdown."

The wild grin under his skull mask made Ryuji look like a manic monster. "Hell yeah! Go, Captain!"

"High Pixie," Akira shouted, bringing forth the armored fey.

"Zio!" The artist cried out, his Persona blowing that cloud-smoke out of its pipe just as the paper monster zeroed in on Akira. The lightning bolt striking out drove it stumbling back one step.

High Pixie flew up and around to get a clear line to Captain Kidd, then lifted a hand. A torrent of shredding winds spiraled out of the outstretched hand, catching the skeletal captain on a ruined boat, its tattered sails filling as the winds swirled around it. Ryuji's Persona lifted his cannon hand and blasted out a shock of concussive force. The shredding winds spiraled after it. The first pulse knocked the giant paper monster out of its guard, the second pulled it off the ground and tore it apart, scattering half a dozen parts fading into dissolving smoke.

Still swinging, Makoto tripped when her target fell apart.

Morgana held up a hand at the others. "I'll take care of this." Zorro formed above him, its eyes blazing with that ethereal fire as the same aura rippled over the girl in black leather. She seized once and collapsed to the ground, then the aura and Zorro dissipated.

Akira and the other Thieves gathered around her, everybody tense in case her craze lasted. When she gave a pained groan and came to all fours, he let out a relieved breath and reached out a hand. "You going to be okay?"

Makoto accepted his hand up, then blinked and shook her head. "I hope there aren't many Shadows who can do that. Would've been nice to have some warning."

Morgana shrugged, though there was a grimace to it which belied his attempt to make them feel better. "Sorry. It's not like I have a magical scanning power. I only know what Shadows can do if I've seen them, and even then there are a few who have deleterious effects which make it hard to prepare against."

Ryuji scoffed. "Big deal. All'a us can see Shadows try to blow us up, too."

Yusuke stepped between them, one hand on the katana at his waist. "Perhaps it would be more constructive to carry on with the heist. We may not know how to pluck Palaces out of the general populace, but we have this one yet to complete. Let us away."

Only four paintings interrupted the gaudy walls, one on each. Akira wondered if Hifumi liked this sort of art or if she preferred more modern styles.

Yusuke's pace froze and his dark grey gaze came to rest on one painting. He stepped closer and the other Phantom Thieves likewise gathered around the Sayuri, or at least something like it. The background was pink as a storm of cherry blossoms, the kimono was blue and the fog was white, but besides the color differences, it was definitely the painting Yusuke showed them way back when they came to the atelier to investigate Madarame. Ann shared a quick glance at them, something weighty about the empty silence, before they all reached out at the painting on the wall.

Madarame's Atelier, Student Studio

"Come in," a woman's voice called through the door.

Madarame pushed open the flimsy wooden door to the downstairs painting studio. His last pupil sat on a rickety stool in front of her latest canvas. A mirror sat on the nearby counter, propped up by a can of paint. She dabbed the brush at her palette, then brushed at something near the bottom of the canvas. "You always make such spectacular work, Terumi-chan. Is this that self-portrait you were talking about?"

The frail woman flashed him a weak smile, setting down her paint brush so she could tug at her blue blouse in the sweltering summer heat. "I feel like it's time to do something for Yusuke."

Madarame stepped around a stack of empty paint cans. "The Nishiwakis called. They've been expecting an RSVP from you for their kid's seventh."

Terumi's smile strained and her eyelid twitched. "Oh, I'm sorry for the bother. I've been forgetting things." She turned back to her painting and picked up her brush.

Madarame came around to see. The portrait which met his eyes stole his breath. Elegant in its simplicity, the red Terumi's alter-self wore made it pop with surprising power.

Tears gathered in his eyes when Madarame realized he could paint for ten lifetimes and never create something so magnificent. The way it seized the eye and refused to let go, the way it shone with affection…

Terumi's brush jerked a line down through the swaddled baby in her portrait's arms, the brush tumbling to the floor. She started to reach for it, but the hand holding her palette began to shake. A garbled moan rumbled from her throat, and she slipped to the floor, spasming.

"Terumi-chan!" Madarame looked around. A glass of water sat at the work bench, with her bottle of pills next to it. He raced around her for it, but the first steps back brought his eyes on that magnificent painting.

A painting so beautiful it made him ache.

Has the master not created as much magnificence as the student who took from him?

His feet stilled.

The stool squeaked as her convulsing form fought to drag herself up. She raised a twitching arm at him, her fingers clutching his threadbare shirt. The other reached for the bottle in his right hand. The jerking movements were so strong, she only succeeded in knocking the bottle loose and spilling a few pills.

Madarame raised the bottle and her weakened hand pawed down his shirt, unable to manage enough control to grip it.

Terumi more threw herself than shuffled forward on her knees, the spasms wracking her whole body growing stronger. The stool tipped over to its side with a clatter. She spat out a gagged breath and her head threw back, but her hands came up like claws for that pill bottle.

Madarame stepped back and the young woman fell to the ground, her spasms growing stronger and more irregular.

She stared up at him from her back, her choked breathing grew more ragged, a wet sound in it. After another minute, her lips started turning blue.

After another minute, her spasms slowed.

Then stopped.

The glass of water and pill bottle tumbled from his nerveless hands. A hand clapped over his mouth, and he couldn't even force a word out through the smothering horror. Numbness overtook his limbs and he ran, stumbling once, around her body to the phone in the central hall to dial 1-1-9.

Madarame's Atelier, Student Studio

The pair of medics pulled the zipper up to close the body bag, and only once the last trace of Terumi's visage disappeared could Madarame tear his eyes away from her.

One of the medics, a scrawny, middle-aged man with a burn scar across his forehead, reached out to clap his hand on the artist's wrist. "Madarame-san?"

Madarame jerked and looked the burned man in the eyes. "Y-Yes?"

The medic squeezed the artist's wrist, then let go. "You can't blame yourself, sir. It's obvious what happened. I've seen it before." He gestured at the pills scattered over the floor. "A patient with a history of seizures forgets to take her medication, an attack starts, then she spills everything 'cause of all the fumbling. It's not pretty, but there are worse ways to go than asphyxiation."

Madarame clutched his hands. "As… As—what?"

"Asphyxiation," the medic said, kneeling to pack the diagnostic tools. "Her windpipe was blocked. Not unheard of for seizure victims to vomit. God only knows what might have happened if you'd found her before she threw up, but there's nothing to gain by beating yourself up over walking in after it's all over."

Madarame's mouth opened, then closed.

The medic zipped up his bag and stood, then paused at the portrait. "Say, I'm no art critic, but that thing's pretty amazing. What is it?"

Is a master not owed what is made thanks to his magnificence?

Madarame's mouth opened and closed once more before he found his tongue. "It… It's mine."

Madarame's Museum

Silence pressed down on the Phantom Thieves as they drew back from the discolored Sayuri. Akira's stomach churned. Beside him, he saw Ann release a sharp breath through her nose, and it came out as cold fog.

Yusuke whispered, "Thank you, Sensei. Now I am free."

Ryuji set the tip of his bat on the ground. "Whazzat?"

The artist straightened, his shoulders squaring. "I have no further reason to forgive that despicable man."

Makoto's hands clenched on her plated gauntlets. Her teeth ground and it felt like the temperature rose several degrees. "Byakko? Are you sure we have to leave Madarame alive?"

Instead of answering, the team leader looked up to Akira. The longcoated teen wondered if he was thinking of Kamoshida. He remembered the feel of the sub-machine gun clenched in his hand, the Shadow of the perverted coach who wanted to rape Ann and did rape Shiho standing in front of him. The anger when he pulled the trigger and there were no bullets left to kill him with. Or that it took him days to come to grips with the fact Kamoshida took far more from all those other students than himself. Akira took in a long breath and turned to Yusuke. "I don't think it's their call. Or mine. I think you're the only one with the right to decide if he lives or dies."

Yusuke took a step back. "How does one kill through the Metaverse?"

Morgana folded his crossbow and looked down at the ground. One ear folded back against his skull. "A Palace Ruler is the suppressed inner self. If we kill his Shadow, all his inner thoughts and feelings and everything connected to it are destroyed. He'll enter a mental shutdown, becoming dead mentally – if not outright."

Yusuke nodded, his eyes unfocused and swiveling up in recollection. "But to change his heart, we must take his Treasure and defeat his Shadow while leaving him alive. To that end, we must secure a safe route and be ready to send the calling card, which will cause the object representing his distorted desires to manifest into an item we may steal?"

Letting out a relieved breath, Morgana nodded with a pleased grin. "That's right, greenie! I'm glad to see you've taken to the lessons Panther and Nightrider explained to you."

Ryuji put his left hand on his hip. "Hey, I did plenty o' 'splainin'."

Morgana waved him off and readied his crossbow again. "Whatever. We should get going. The Treasure is this way."

The Phantom Thieves followed him to another hallway intersection barred by a roller gate straight ahead, with the hall branching to the left and right.

Makoto lifted her shotgun and squinted to peer through the holographic sight. "There's the Treasure, all right."

"Where?" Yusuke squinted, then stepped closer to the roller gate. The track star caught him and pulled him back before one of the Goldies patrolling the pedestal in the room beyond saw him.

Morgana waved them away from the roller gate. "That's it, everyone. One of those two halls should lead to it." He pointed at the break in the hall heading left and right.

Ann fidgeted her pistol, the length of the bulky silencer making the motion seem exaggerated. "Daggerfall left?"

Morgana gave a nod – of course – and led the team down an elbow-curve to the heavy fogged glass of a security door. A large, square planter broke up the monotony of the gold wallpaper. The Thieves braced behind it and against the wall in case a Shadow lay beyond it. The team leader hit the button next to the door.

A moment later, a gravelly voice snapped, "What is it?"

The Phantom Thieves waited. A moment later, a click sounded and the door swung open, a Shadow van Damme behind it.

Yusuke pulled the trigger, the marksman rifle sending a bullet straight between the masked eyes of the Shadow.

It swelled into a black pustule, then burst into a pair of white paper disks floating vertically in the air.

Ann's mouth quirked and she looked to Akira. "Are these yours or mine?"

Ryuji brandished the frosty-white crystal the longcoated teen gave them at the start of this Palace dive. "Dudes, we got more options now." He popped out the magazine and pressed the big crystal into the top, where it shrank and slimmed to fit on top. He slapped the magazine back in his shotgun and took a shot at the closest Sudama, knocking it to the ground, covered in icy rime.

Makoto stared in marvel. "I want a gun which can do that so easy."

The other paper spirit of the mountains emitted a shockwave of sharp winds, driving the Thieves not braced behind the planters to the ground like leaves.

Akira kipped up. "Jack Frost!" The mischievous spirit of ice coalesced in a swirl of motes of light and continued dancing. It flung a bolt of ice into the standing Sudama, knocking the last one to the ground. He pulled a large survival knife out of a pocket in his longcoat and led the team's charge at the vulnerable Shadows, leaving nothing but dissolving smoke.

Yusuke sheathed his katana. "I must say, that is exhilarating."

Makoto jogged into the office just in case the door might close and lock on them, then held the door open.

Another door sat on the opposite wall, but didn't budge when Akira pulled at the lever. It had a panel with a speaker and several unlabeled buttons next to it, but he didn't want to guess at random when one of them might trigger an alert in Palace security. He turned back to the computer looking out over the core of the Palace.

Six prongs rose out of a raised pedestal, steady red lasers burning between them. Two Goldies patrolled around it, and two gateways large enough to drive a flatbed truck through opened to the right – where they were – and to the left. Even Madarame's gaudy Shadow skulked about, though without any apparent pattern to his nervous, shuffling walk. "Seems like pretty heavy security."

Makoto sat down and typed Password 1 into the computer overlooking the core. A list of options appeared. "So, what first?"

Morgana hopped onto the desk next to her and the others gathered around. He squinted at the room above. "There's some catwalks up there. We should keep those in mind come time to steal the Treasure. Snatching it and running would be a lot faster than smashing our way in."

Ann pointed her silenced pistol at the gate controls. "Might as well see if we can open up the inner perimeter."

Ryuji shook his head and took her hand with gentle but firm grip to point the silencer away from the screen. "Dude, how many times do I gotta say trigger discipline? If ya ain't shootin' nobody, take your finger outta the trigger well."

She blushed and lowered her pistol, but did so.

"It's all right." Makoto focused back on the computer and hit 'retract' on the gates. Both of the roller gates slid up and out of the way. "Well, that gets us closer to the Treasure. Looks like there are lights, lasers, and power left."

Morgana folded up his crossbow, then rubbed his chin with his free hand. "Hm… If we can turn off the lights, that could allow us to sneak in without being seen." When she moved the cursor to it, he waved his open hand at the next option. "What about the laser grid?"

Yusuke slipped the rifle belonging to the track star until yesterday to his shoulder, then held out his fingers to make an angled frame. "It isn't a grid, though. Those are clearly just parallel lines."

Makoto sighed. "It's a term for a system of protections, Fox."

Akira tapped a foot. "Well, let's disable them. Getting to the Treasure is no good if we can't actually reach it."

She nodded and hit the toggle, but a new window appeared stating 'awaiting authorization' on the screen and a small panel flipped open next to the keyboard to reveal a plate with a crude hand silhouette on it. Makoto cringed for a moment, then backed to the security menu. "I'm guessing that means only Madarame can disable the lasers."

"For real?" Ryuji's posture tensed, one hand gripping the grip end of his aluminum baseball bat and the other dangling off the thick end, but his mouth twisted in a grimace. "How the eff are we gonna get it, then?"

Akira looked up, then down. "Try hitting the power. That should knock out everything hooked into the power grid. Which is pretty much everything as long as his cognition has realistic assumptions about security."

Makoto nodded and hit the toggle on the power.

The lights both inside the security office and in the huge core chamber flicked off, and the lasers winked out as well. The eyes on all the Shadows glowed in the dim, and the hazy obloid form of the Treasure sat there, obscured only by the one prong jutting up from the edge of the hexagonal dais.

Shadow Madarame bellowed, "You fools! Protect my Treasure!"

A dozen pairs of eyes ran into the room and joined the encirclement of the raised dais. Just a couple seconds later, one of the Shadows shouted, "Your most brilliant and beneficent Madarame, re-activating the power now!"

The lights winked back on and the lasers returned to their steady, red hum.

Ryuji gawked. "Fuck. That wasn't even thirty seconds."

Morgana's frown grew. "And the Palace's security level just jumped. That won't mean much once we're coming to steal it, but we haven't even found a way to directly reach the Treasure."

Makoto looked at the computer, then up at the Palace core. "We'll probably have to get here to do this when we return to steal the Treasure."

Akira shrugged. "So we split into two teams. We've got enough people."

Makoto nodded. "With Johanna, I believe I have the greatest ability to rapidly traverse the Palace. I should be here."

Nodding, Morgana switched his crossbow from hand to hand. "You'll need strong backup just in case, but you carried Joker back in Kaneshiro's vault so the same thing should work again. Reaper, your Persona is almost as resilient as hers, and when it uses wind it's still our fastest. You're with Nightrider." He hopped down. "Come on, let's check that other hall and see if we can get to those catwalks."

By the time they reached the intersection again, a Shadow van Damme patrolled the length of the carpeted area stretching from the core of the Palace to the rest and viewing area they just came from. The Thieves held back until it turned around, then headed out down the hall to the room with the mis-colored Sayuri.

The Thieves followed the hall curving and rising beyond. Plain, beige walls stretched on both sides, with corkboards crammed with advertisements for the Magnificent Madarame, sales in the millions of yen, and wanted posters for 'fugitives'.

Yusuke and Ann's faces were among them.

Akira stepped forward to rip off the ones on the nearest corkboard.

Morgana sighed. "That's not going to be enough to make him forget, Joker." He led them up the floor ramping up at a steep angle and wrapping a widening spiral around the core until coming to a landing with a side-hall branching to an observation balcony occupied by two Shadow van Dammes.

Morgana scanned the distance, then ducked back and pulled out a crossbow bolt with a long bulge just under the angled bolt head. He adjusted a dial at the bottom of it, then looked at the others and whispered, "Taking those ones out will be pointless, they'll respawn by the time we get back here to steal the Treasure. As soon as the whistler goes off, you all follow me."

He took a deep breath, raised his crossbow, then side-stepped out and let loose a bolt. Just after it passed the observation balcony's rail, the bulge split open, something snapping out and knocking the bolt into a spin. What sounded just like somebody whistling for attention came from it.

Both Shadow van Dammes jerked around, looking in the core room after the bolt. "What was that?"

The Thieves dashed across the hall and continued up. Only one Shadow van Damme stood at the next landing, allowing the Thieves to sneak past as soon as it turned its back on the wrap-around hall. They continued up to another landing with two utility doors.

The team leader got to work on one as Akira worked on the door straight-ahead, opening it to a confusing storage room with two futons on one side. Just like the other safe rooms the team had come across. "Looks like we've got a space for a breather, guys."

Morgana's hushed but triumphant, "A-hah!" alerted them to a bigger discovery. Beyond lay a rectangular room as wide as the workshop in the real atelier, but with a ceiling so low Ann and all the boys had to duck to get inside. Standing racks held coiled loops of rope and extension cords to the left, spare bulbs and a theater light in the center, with brooms and cleaning supplies to the right.

Another half-sized door lay just beyond the row of light bulb boxes. Morgana picked the lock on that, then opened the door and cackled. "I knew it! The catwalks above the Treasure." He took tentative steps at first, but when the wooden beams made no noise, he bound down them. Struggling with the stoop the room forced him to, the artist followed after. They paused at an intersection in the catwalks, beside which hung a hook on cables.

Akira slipped out to join them, keeping his voice at a whisper in case the Shadows below might hear, "What's up?"

Morgana turned to him, his pointed grin reminding the longcoated teen of Calvin. "Go inside and find the controls for this crane. We might be able to bypass those lasers after all."

Akira nodded and turned back, relaying the orders to the Thieves.

Makoto, just a half-centimeter shorter than the ceiling, gave an easy nod. "Oh, I know exactly what he means." She led him to a circuit breaker box, next to which sat a big lever suitable for a theater production.

Ryuji joined them, his back hunched and head canted to one side to accommodate the low ceiling. "This it?" As soon as the longcoated teen nodded, he reached out and pulled the lever down. The whirring of an electric motor outside the small door sounded.

Akira pushed him aside, but with the ungainly position they all found themselves in to start with, he tumbled to his ass. Akira grabbed the lever and returned it to the level position.

Morgana shot back into the utility room at a sprint and gave a glare at the longcoated teen. "You idiot! We don't want to tip off the Shadows to our only means of reaching the Treasure!"

Ryuji picked himself up, returning to the hunched posture with his head tilted to one side. "Hey, it was my idea!"

Morgana gave a bow to the transfer student. "My apologies." He turned to Ryuji. "You idiot! We don't want to—"

"Awright! You don't gotta bite my head off." Ryuji crossed his arms, his body started to tilt, and he uncrossed them.

Ann pulled her pigtail free from a splinter catching it in a ceiling rafter. "It sounds like this is doable now, right? Can we go so I stop getting splinters in my hair?"

Morgana nodded and led the team to the street-side entrance of the Palace. "Great work, Phantom Thieves. We've established our route to the Treasure. We'll rest tomorrow and make the calling card. Can everybody make Sunday?"

Ann, Makoto, and Yusuke nodded.

Ryuji shrugged. "I would'a been at the arcade most o' the day, 'cept dinner an' plum pie with Ma. 'Long as we're done by then, she won't even know we were doin' nothin'."

"Anything," Akira corrected. With his knife stowed, he used his free hand to rub the side of his head. He'd have to cancel shogi with his pretty rival, but Madarame still had Ann and Yusuke in his sights. He couldn't let his friends walk around with targets on their backs. "I can be back from Mass by noon, and up here by twelve-forty. I'll just have to call and swap shifts with somebody working Saturday."

"You're working?" Makoto began disassembling her shotgun. "We can do this later."

"The sooner we change his heart, the better." Akira shrugged. "To be honest, work is more looking for intel. Mishima said there's suspicious activity in Shibuya several times, and I figure having an ear to the ground would give an opportunity to pick up names."

Ann nodded, then ran a gloved hand through her hair to check for splinters. "I like sleeping in on Sundays, anyway." She turned a squinty-eyed look at Ryuji. "Hey, wait… plums… you only do that on your birthday!"

Ryuji gave a small grin and waved her down. "Aw, don't worry 'bout that. No way I'd be able to party while 'rame's out for your head." Having already disassembled and stowed his shotgun, he tapped his baseball bat against his shoulder. "I know it was a real break when I knew Ma was gonna be safe. Let's get this done. Then I can breathe easy." He pulled out his phone, hit the Nav, and disappeared.

The rest of the Phantom Thieves did likewise, but with Akira heading to the same place as Yusuke, he ran into the artist at the side of the road next to a concrete utility pole. "Hey."

Yusuke's posture went from slouched to straight, his face switching to an impassive mask in an instant. "Have you ever learned something of your father which forced you to view him in a different light?"

Akira straightened the strap of the satchel sitting too light on his shoulder without the not-cat's familiar weight. He glanced back and saw the team leader sitting a few meters back, peering at them from the concrete-block wall. Akira let out a breath and looked back to the artist. "Honestly? No. Morgana or one of the others from Shujin could explain, but my old bastard betrayed his duty as a father a long time ago."

Yusuke crossed his arms and shifted his weight to his far leg. "I… would prefer some time alone to think."

Morgana hopped from the block wall to the transfer student's shoulder. "Okay, but make sure you text Joker when you're on the way back."

Several silent seconds passed by before Yusuke said, "You need not worry. I will join you all on Sunday."

He stepped out, so Akira let the team leader in his satchel and took the straight route to Yongen.

Friday, 1 July 2016
Early Evening
Yongen, Leblanc

Akira trotted into the coffee shop as the crimson light of evening painted the quiet town outside. Within, the sedate wood and leather décor created a calm tone as if fighting the passage of time outside. Two elderly women in bland, pale yellow dresses nursed coffee in the middle booth, one looking up at the sound of the bell before returning to what remained of her cup.

Sojiro looked up from his book, his eyes flicking to the old women before stopping on the transfer student.

Taking the hinted meaning, Akira plopped into one of the high chairs by the stack of books and manga. As small as the core of Madarame's Palace was, they spent little time fighting through it, but it still left some tiredness he wanted to take the edge off. Akira covered his mouth as a yawn crawled out until it passed and left with a full-body shiver. "Got any of the Kona blend?"

Sojiro came to a stop next to the register. "Not Kona today, but I can get you something close." His eyes dropped down to the transfer student's tapping fingers. "You're in a good mood today."

A scratchy tune came from one of the old women. She answered her phone and shuffled out of the booth seat to head for the door.

Glancing at his fingers, Akira stopped to press his hands flat on the counter. As soon as someone else pointed out his eager anticipation to get the Palace over with, he realized how selfish that must look. Yusuke just had a bridge dropped on him, and here Akira sat, looking forward to beating up – or even killing – the Shadow of a person who hadn't done anything to him.

The first old woman left and the other paid and got up to go before Sojiro returned with his coffee. "You're back earlier than usual. Everything going okay with work? And that weird artist?"

Akira shrugged, waiting for the second old woman to depart before answering. "This week's… had a lot of revelations. To be honest, I have to credit him for holding up better than I would. I'd've stabbed my old bastard in the aortic artery."

"Family court is never fun." Sojiro started counting out cash in the register to close out the day. "Speaking of, I had a meeting with your social worker today. It sounds like you're keeping up your grades and Shujin hasn't had any complaints about your behavior. That's pretty good, all things considered. I know things have been pretty hard over there with your record getting leaked, so I can see why you're making friends at other schools."

Akira took the tiny creamer pitcher and poured a bit into his coffee, then stirred until the white descended into the dark. He hadn't thought about hiding his record from Hifumi and Yusuke. It just… happened. Did that make him dishonest? He blew across his coffee and took a sip. The dark, rich liquid tempered by a shot of cream chased away a little of the settling exhaustion from fighting through a Palace. He set it back down on the saucer. "It's… actually not as hard as I thought it would be. The academics, anyway. There's still some students who keep trying to bait me after class."

Sojiro wrote the totals down in his phone, then packed away most of the cash in an envelope and threw it in a safe under the counter. "Sorry to say, but there's always going to be people playing games. Fewer and fewer people as you go along, but I still had to deal with those types before retiring from the Ministry of Finance."

Akira took a deeper drink. "You mentioned that before. Is that how you met Director Isshiki?"

Sojiro's gaze stared up and into the distance, the corners of his lips curling as he wiped down an empty coffee siphon. "In a sense." He chuckled, something dark and deprecating about it. "My job had been balancing the books for a while, I just had to approve budgets after inspections of Blue Cove." He chuckled. "I'm glad the other guys had a big interest in that project. I enjoyed talking with Wakaba, but never completely understood what they were doing there." He slipped his phone out of his pocket to check the time, then trotted over to the sink filled with dishes and set his phone on the inner counter, then turned on the water. "Say, if you've got enough time to yak, why don't you help out a little?"

Akira took another gulp and stood. "That it for the day?"

"Friday's always a slow day in Yongen," Sojiro said. "The young kids are out in more exciting parts of the city, and the older folks just want to crash after a long week." He watched the transfer student flip the sign closed, then turned to start cleaning in the kitchen. "Think you're up for another lesson on coffee making?"

Akira pulled out his phone. No messages for anybody waiting for him. Hifumi already explained Friday was her longest day, thanks mostly to school, so he sent, [Winding the day down over here. Have a good night, Queen Togo.]

Just before he slipped it in his pocket, a new text came from Yusuke. [I think I am in a proper state of mind to return. My city map says I am thirty minutes away.]

[I'll be here to let you in.] Akira let out a long breath before setting his phone on the counter next to Sojiro's. "Well, Yusuke's a good forty minutes away. We making curry today?"

Sojiro smiled, maybe even a real smile the way the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes creased. "You're a decent cook, but you're a ways from harmonizing dishes like the house curry. Wash those dishes and I'll get the kitchen straightened up. Then it's quiz time for bean types and what to do with them."

Akira turned and they got to work, scrubbing and trading trivia on coffee beans and the particulars of their preparation. If he hadn't had his eyes on the dishes, Akira might have noticed an application open on Sojiro's phone stating, 'Cloning…', with the same progress bar on his own phone.

Friday, 1 July 2016
Night
Yongen, Leblanc

Akira trotted up the creaky stairs to the loft. He pulled the dirty clothes from the day bundled up over his shoulder into the hamper, thankful the bath house had their own towels so he didn't have to worry about that piling up the laundry. Crickets chirped, louder than he ever remembered them in the mountains. The bath wasn't long enough to be relaxing by any stretch of the imagination, but did everything in the city have to be turned up to the eleventh notch?

Yusuke sat on the couch, the threadbare spare sheet thrown over the back and the winter blanket rolled up against the arm to serve as a pillow.

Perched atop the blanket-pillow stood Morgana, looking as serious as his tone. "…shutdown, like Joker said. The only other alternative is to steal his Treasure, which will cause Madarame's heart to change. Those are the only two options to save Lady Ann and you from his pets in the courts. And we're closing in, so we need to know what your decision is soon."

The artist tightened the arms wrapped around themselves, elbows on his knees as if he could not bear to hold himself up. "I have been thinking about possibilities like this for years. Even before Hitoshi jumped in front of the train, I knew things could not go on with Madarame, I was just too much a coward to act on my own. I thought him like a god with the whole of the art world under his thumb, and I but an ant. He has preyed upon too many to escape paying his dues."

Morgana's head bobbed in understanding. "Don't get too worked up over this, Madarame forced your hand as well. At least this way, you get to challenge Madarame on equal terms. We just need to know if you're going to take down his Shadow, or steal his Treasure."

"Hey," Akira said, his voice low as he paced to the hamper to throw the day's old clothes in.

Yusuke unfolded his arms, though they remained in a loose wrap around his torso. His bleary gaze stared up at the transfer student. "The Phantom Thieves changed Kaneshiro's heart. How did you decide upon that?"

Akira rubbed his arm under the baggy black sleeve. "To be honest, I think Makoto just went with the procedure we developed for Kamoshida."

Yusuke straightened a little, the hunch remaining in his shoulders. "Ah. Your first change of heart, with that despicable coach who preyed upon the kindness of the fair maiden Ann."

Akira's pale grey gaze looked away from the artist's dark one. "Not me. I didn't even have a concept of saving him. I wanted him dead." He came to a stop in front of the tiny poster of the Virgin Mary holding the body of Jesus. "It was Ann who had the strength to change him, to let him live."

Yusuke clasped his hands. "What made you decide to pursue Kamoshida to start with? Was it his beatings of the volleyball club? You seem the sort who delivers righteous vengeance on behalf of others."

Akira sat down on the corner of his bed. "It was Shiho. He took her away." He chuffed, bitterness choking his self-deprecating laugh. "She was the first girl in my life to hear out my dreams, see me in suffering, and give me an encouraging smile." There had been several at Tanizaki Middle School who pitied him, but Shiho was so much better than that. She believed in him. Even now, the shock of that being torn away brought a burning heat to his eyes. Akira took in a deep breath, then forced it out through his lips and tried to look nonchalant and not like he wanted to cry over a girl who could never have been his. He took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "When we'd battered Kamoshida's Shadow and taken his Treasure, she was the one who demanded he atone." Akira re-settled his glasses. "I started the search for Kaneshiro not long after, but she was the one who began the Phantom Thieves. Without a heart like hers, we'd have killed Kamoshida and washed our hands of it."

Yusuke breathed in silence for long moments. "It seems you've come to accept life with Kamoshida changed. Do you think you could have lived with yourself if you'd killed him?"

Akira turned from the artist, but that just brought the tiny poster of the Virgin Mary into view. For a beat, the look on Mary's face seemed accusing instead of mournful. He looked away. It's better that Shiho had Mishima to go back to, because in his heart… "Yes." He straightened his sleep clothes. "Which is why I'm glad it didn't end up coming down to me. A better person made the choice."

The artist allowed a respectful pause. "She is as superb in spirit as she is in physical beauty, is she not?"

Morgana hopped up to all four legs, his tail aloft and twitching. "H-Hey…!" When the others looked at him, he swallowed. "Uh, that's true. I mean we should stay on topic."

Yusuke bowed his head, every muscle and line on his face somber. "I apologize for the complication I have afflicted you all with. Either way, Sen… Madarame shall pay the piper. If he dies, his fate shall be swift and certain, but if as suave as a calling card may be, I cannot help but fear a change of heart will merely see him swept under the rug."

Morgana sat, his tail going slack. "Kamoshida went from being a predator who even bullied other teachers into helping conceal his secret into publicly confessing. If there remains even a shred of love for the art he taught you, I'm sure Madarame's change in cognition will make a similar need to confess."

Yusuke pursed his lips, then set his rolled jacket on the arm of the couch and patted it for what fluff that could do. He grasped the threadbare sheet, then stared at the frayed edges, his focus a thousand meters away.

Akira shuffled over to lay down in his bed, bringing up the text messenger on his phone. "I'm kind of short on money right now, but I bet I can get a new pillow for you from Ann. And I know Makoto has some linen – she mentioned doing laundry at her flat."

The artist nodded and lay down, stretching his legs over the arm of the far side of the couch. "I am sure that will help my rest. If only such a simple solution could bring black and white to the choice with Madarame."

Saturday, 2 July 2016
Lunchtime
Shujin, Rooftop

Akira popped the lid off his mixed rice and vegetables, then pulled a little plastic baggie with clean chopsticks. Before he could dig in, Alliance Force, Assemble! sang out of his phone. When he spied Queen Togo on the caller ID, he felt a smile split his face. "Joke translation service, this is Nadia Geddit."

Her sonorous laugh spilled out of the phone and he savored the sound. After a few moments of the lovely tones, Hifumi apologized to some people on her side of the phone and spoke in a hushed tone, "Your creativity is a welcome break from the week, Akira-kun."

He set his chopsticks down and rubbed the back of his neck. "For Queen Togo? Anywhere, any time."

Hifumi's chuckles sounded as music to his ears as her open laughter. However, an air of austere focus fell as they ended. "I wanted to ask about Kitagawa-san."

Akira swallowed and reached down to the team leader snoozing in his satchel to tap him on the head and rouse him from his nap. "What did you want to know about Yusuke?"

"Just Yusuke?" Her tone left a sly smile clear in his mind's eye. "You must have made quite the impression on each other." A beat of silence passed, her voice serious when she spoke again. "However, one of the behavioral red flags are sudden personality changes."

Morgana hopped up to the desk Akira was eating at to listen in.

Hifumi continued, "Kitagawa has been stoic and reserved for as long as I have known him. Sitting in the corner of the north courtyard and sketching all lunch long would not be unusual. Wandering through the halls, humming marching tunes is quite unusual. As is buying pickled turnips from the school store, now that I think about it. He hasn't… asked you for any unusual favors or offered you any special tokens like a favorite brush or childhood lucky charm?"

"Ah," he said, her insinuations lining up with some of the readiness training he remembered overhearing at the Smiling Mountain Mental Institution. "I don't think he's having a manic episode. And I can say with confidence he's not at risk of an impending suicide attempt." When she let out a hum, Akira covered the microphone and whispered at the team leader, "I don't think she's buying it. What do I tell her about Yusuke?"

Put on the spot, Morgana's eyes widened. "Uh… tell her that… he's painting you! He's obsessed with models."

"That's right," Akira realized, lowering his hand from his phone. He cleared his throat and pressed the phone close again. "He's probably happy about finding models since Ann and I agreed to let him paint us. He talks plenty about the things he wants to do, so he's too invested in having a future to off himself."

Terseness seeped through Hifumi's voice as she repeated, "Ann and you?"

"Yeah," Akira said, a little bewildered at the steel in her voice. "He met Ann in Shibuya. She's in my class, remember? That's how we met. I can guess why he'd paint her, she already models part-time. I have no idea what he'd want to paint my ugly mug for."

Sounds of disapproval floated from her. "Akira-kun, I do not let people speak ill of my friends. Even if it's my friends. You are most certainly not ugly."

He picked up his chopsticks and looked down at his lunch. "Say, as long as the concern with Yusuke is resolved, are you doing anything today?"

Her slight hiss told him all he needed. "I'm sorry, Akira-kun. Mother has me booked today. And tomorrow morning. Perhaps 2:30? I should be done with the interview and homework for differential equations by then."

Morgana's tail rose in that concerned question mark shape. "We're changing Madarame's heart tomorrow."

Akira opened his mouth, then closed it. As much as he'd love a few hours with her, the Thieves had found the Treasure chamber. And with Madarame's exhibit ending next week, there were increasing chances he'd find time to arrange for their arrest. Akira couldn't put Ann and Yusuke in danger by putting this off. "Sorry, I'm busy tomorrow. Can't reschedule."

"Well," she said, a faint tremor in her voice, but from what, he couldn't guess. "I suppose I'll see you after finals, then."

Between the glumness in her voice and the disappointment in his own heart, Akira gave a weak thanks and ended the call, then finished lunch. The bell rang and he let Morgana back in his satchel. Instead of heading straight back to class, he stopped in the bathroom to wash his hands and give himself a once-over in the polished steel plate serving as a mirror.

Her words, "You are most certainly not ugly," echoed in his head, but besides the glasses he had to maintain, everything else about his appearance shouted, 'I don't give a damn.' She must have been joking.

Back in class, Mishima gave him a strange look even after sitting down. After a moment, the class representative leaned forward to whisper, "Don't worry, I'm sure everything will go fine tomorrow."

AN: Happy new year, and a thanks to everybody who's read and reviewed!