Persona 5: Daywatch

by Ganheim

Akira is banished to Tokyo by his own father. What begins as a near-suicidal quest for vengeance becomes a desperate attempt to turn the pieces of his life into an honest whole. Aided by clever strategists and opposed by supernatural puppeteers, one lost boy's quest for something greater clashes those who would think themselves gods over men, and demons within. AU elements.

69. July 2nd, Unto the Painting

Persona 5: Daywatch

Saturday, 2 July 2016
Late Afternoon
Shibuya, Central Street

Akira straightened his Shujin jacket. Garish as it might have been, he appreciated the 777 convenience store's uniform. As uncomfortable as most students made his stay at Shujin, that just made everything related to it much less comfortable by extension. With Hifumi busy, and Makoto collaborating with Morgana and Yusuke to get the calling card done, he had no prospects for an intellectually stimulating board game. He followed the churning crowd towards the train station, gritting his teeth at the inconsistent stride and direction of the crowd, almost half of whom stared down at their cell phones as they went about somewhere between a tired trudge and respectable Walk with Purpose.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he slipped into the corner book store for a moment of peace.

Makoto's ID sat at the top. [We've completed the calling cards. With the description of the infiltration of Madarame's stash of Sayuris, I feel confident this will trigger a manifestation of his Treasure.]

Ryuji sent, [Sure this is the way you want to do it, Yusuke? I mean, what he did to your mom…]

A few moments passed before the artist texted, [While I was still a hapless student, I thought long about what I would do if I had the opportunity to… cause Madarame to come down with misfortune. But ending his life would not bring back my mother's.] A beat later, he added, [Besides, if he dies, he will never be able to restore the stolen art to the pupils who made them. Sensei sold out art for money. Perhaps by following along the way you all have changed the hearts of those others, I can mend some of what he did.]

Three dots winked next to Ryuji's ID. [Cool. Now all we have to do is get in and crack some skulls.]

Yusuke followed, [I hope so. Madarame relies on the popularity of his exhibits to bolster his next meetings with strangers I assume are buyers, but the exhibit will be ending on Friday. He will surely be meeting with his lawyers on that day. I fear he may still be intent on bringing charges to Takamaki-san.]

Three dots danced next to Makoto's ID. [What about you?]

[I will endure. I have no other choice, Madarame has legal authority over me.]

Makoto replied, [That's not very comforting, either. He may not have contracted hit-men to kill you and hide the bodies like Kaneshiro, but he ruined students until more than half took their own lives.]

Akira sent, [Sounds like the kind of d-bag we set out to change.]

A beat later, Makoto added, [Leader says I need to remind you this is our third heart change. But with all due respect, each one had its own challenges.]

Ann joined the chat room. [Is everything okay?]

Makoto sent, [Nothing wrong in specific, but we don't have much time left.]

Ann texted, [Well, I'm glad you chose to CHANGE his heart, instead of snuff it out. I never realized how much good would come of changing Kamoshida's heart. At the time, I wanted him to suffer. But because of that, a lot of other people got closure.]

Akira added, [Did you guys check out minor emancipation? I put the link in the group chat on Thursday. My case only needs documentation of abuse, but there might be options for you, Yusuke.]

Yusuke sent, [Mishima and Makoto-san have looked into the possibility, but being adopted would be easier. If we succeed at plucking the darkness from his heart, I may not need to worry about it.] A moment later, he added, [But thank you for the offer. For now, let us focus on changing his heart, or all other efforts will be fruitless.]

[Any luck?] Akira sent.

Mishima replied, [From legal precedent, even abuse has to be pretty bad before the Japanese government will take a child away from his family. I think there's too much cultural weight on keeping the family together.]

Three dots winked next to Makoto's ID. [Morgana wanted to know if you talked to the journalist who wrote the article on Kamoshida. Another piece like that could do a lot to improve the standing of the Phantom Thieves in the eyes of the general public. Apparently, the more people talk about us as Champions of Justice, the more likely future targets will relax their guard.]

[No. How long do you guys think it's going to take? I was going to see her on Wednesday.]

[Leader says it depends on how deeply entrenched those distortions are in a person's heart. We won't have much idea how long recovery will take until we encounter the Palace Ruler's Shadow.] A beat passed before Makoto added, [We both think she should have something ready before then. Why?]

[Writing isn't an instant thing, and there's an approval process at publications as big as Maiasa.] Three dots popped up next to Mishima's ID, then disappeared. [I just sent her a document of all the names and dates I found so far, but she'll want more info. Did you guys learn much while you were in there?]

Ryuji sent, [Dude, is she still in the Red Light District? I am totally up to hit the town!]

Ann sent, [Could you do it, Akira? Papa's taking us out for dinner and they'll be leaving on a ten o'clock flight tomorrow. I feel bad for getting home so tired I can't spend the night with them on our days in the Palace.]

Yusuke texted, [Ah, so that is why you were unavailable to join us in the Metaverse until noon. I am afraid I did not seek many of Sensei's memories after the first one Takamaki-san showed me.]

Makoto sent, [Where exactly is this reporter? Morgana talks about it like it's at some place that's dangerous for boys to go.]

[Shinjuku. Kabukichou, to be specific.] Akira took in a deep breath. The crowd outside churned, reminding Akira of the foamy surf in a storm. Then he remembered the thousand-meter stare Yusuke had yesterday. He wondered if he looked like that the day his mother told him she didn't want him back. The day he tried to check out permanently. [I'll do it.]

Saturday, 2 July 2016
Late Afternoon
Velvet Room

Akira pushed himself off the steel slab serving as a bunk and paced to the bars. The chains between his cuffs clinked, though the ball chained to his ankle was absent this time. In the middle of the panopticon sat that empty desk with the strange glass cylinder speared through by one large iron spike at the bottom, another dozen or so smaller spikes jammed in at other angles above it, all holding up a jumbled mess of marbles. Sitting off to one side, distant but ominous, loomed the twin guillotine.

No impish man with a grin too wide for his face occupied the desk, but by the time he got to the bars the transfer student noticed both of the wanna-be wardens at their positions beside his cell. Caroline tapped her extended baton against her shoulder. "Back to progress on your penal labor?"

Her words rankled him, but were obvious enough he didn't want to give her the satisfaction. Instead, Akira brandished a smirk. "Wasn't it supposed to be rehabilitation?"

Justine stood up from her attentive but patient lean against the wall against the edge of his cell. She turned a page on a clipboard even bulkier than the bulletproof type his old bastard used. "We have been expecting you for some time. You awakened to the power of the wild card quite a while ago, but remained unready to temper it."

Quirking an eyebrow, Akira looked at the twin with her platinum-blonde hair in a braid but couldn't get a good read on her. "What are you talking about? I've been picking up new Personas like a sponge since the castle."

Caroline slammed her baton across the lower bars, sending a jolt through them. "You've been stumbling into others' power, Inmate! Your rehabilitation depends on refining that power." She humphed. "Besides, your Personas are all super weak."

Justine gave a sedate nod which just seemed all the more stark for its contrast with her twin. "Just as iron must pass through the flames of a forge to become steel, you must reach out of your raw state and incidental relationships."

Akira shook out his hands despite having yanked them away when the hot-tempered twin struck. "Yeah, His Nose-ness said something about it. I still don't really understand what the whole drawing power from relationships is supposed to work. Doesn't the furtherance of personal benefit kind of invalidate friendship to start with?"

Caroline ran a hand down her face. "Ugh, Inmate. You just don't get it."

The faintest of shadows hinted a change on the lower half of Justine's face, and it sent shivers down the transfer student's spine. She scanned the top sheet on her clipboard, flipped, read, then flipped another page. "Perhaps you are not so far gone. The understanding that bonds with others are valuable in themselves is a sign you are capable of viewing the world through more than a transactional lens." She paused to read, then flipped another page. "And you have already completed several of these tasks towards your rehabilitation. Feeding your power into another to enhance their strengths not once but twice by now."

Caroline's baton lowered. "You're even smiling, Justine."

The stoic twin turned to the other, her braid dangling behind with twice as much energy as her stony demeanor. "It is you who is smiling."

Chuckling for a few moments, Akira couldn't help himself from laughing outright. "Did you two flip a coin before starting this job? I know you have a red oni, blue oni thing going on, but it's not like one of you giggling stops the other one from being able to do it."

Caroline smacked her baton against the bars. "Stop laughing, Inmate! You should know your place!"

Akira shrugged. "'ey, if you're on top, everything's amusing. That's how you seize power. Find something about the situation to laugh at."

Justine did her best to look down her nose at him despite being less than shoulder height. "That is hardly rational, Inmate. We are just satisfied as wardens to see your rehabilitation progress. Your ability to send your power out indicates a minimum degree of trust, as well as empathy and foresight. However, that is only half of the process. You must also draw strength from them."

A smirk played across Akira's face. "Is this where the contract signed in blood is?" He clapped. "Ooh, do I get one of those pens which draw blood and write at the same time? That would save so much mess."

Even Caroline gave him a flat stare.

Justine looked back at her clipboard and turned to a previous page. "You have already fused a Persona in the lair of the gluttonous."

Caroline waggled her extended baton at him. "Yeah, by bumbling accident."

"Bite me!" he snapped.

Justine turned a page as if the other two weren't shouting. "Blindly reaching into the universe leaves you at the mercy of random chance. As part of your rehabilitation, we will provide you with the mechanisms to exercise control over the process. This will allow you to gain the strength to avoid ruin." She took a step to one side, bringing her to the edge of view from his cell and also bringing enormous twin guillotines into the center of his vision.

Grasping the bars, Akira took a deep breath in and out as his stance widened. This was for the Phantom Thieves. Even if the last time he went to the twins for help they put a fragment of his psyche in an electric chair and fried it like Eduard Delacroix. "Let's do it. What's the first goal on the list?"

Caroline tapped her baton against her shoulder. "You've got guts after all, Inmate! Even if they're the guts of a mouse."

Akira lifted his middle finger to his face, only remembering he didn't have his glasses to camouflage the gesture after he touched his nose. "Everyone at Inuri said I have more guts than brains. Gotta use what I've got." He looked to the unnerving twin.

Justine read, then turned back a page and read again, advanced a few pages, then read again. "You skipped a few steps by fusing Ananta Shesha, but I think we can start with creating a Raja Naga with Rakukaja."

Early Evening
Velvet Room

Akira heaved once more, then wiped his chin with a kerchief before getting up from the steel toilet in the back of the cell. Whether or not the fragments executed to fuse together what he needed were pieces of himself or stolen pieces of the collective unconsciousness, he felt as wrong as when he opened the tome of memories in Kamoshida's castle. Still, as he pushed himself to his feet, bracing a hand against one velvet-covered wall, the armored half-man half-serpent beast sat there in the middle of the panopticon.

Justine pressed the pages flat against her clipboard and gave a small nod. "Impressive, Inmate. We did not expect you to have a sufficient bond with a holder of Temperance to control a Raja Naga."

Caroline humphed, but left her extended baton resting on her shoulder. "It's still super weak, Inmate. But…" She fought to keep a smile from her face. "I suppose we can call it good enough for now."

Justine held her clipboard against her side. "As promised, we will permit you to leave one of your Personas in The Pit. We will test and strengthen your Persona. At the moment we shall do so however we see fit, but after you have proven yourself with another few tasks you will have proven enough vision to request an aspect to focus on."

Caroline waggled her baton at him. "Not like that'll come any time soon, inmate. Your Personas aren't just super weak, you still aren't even close to proving yourself capable of that much foresight for us to trust you to know what's best."

"Yeah, whatever," he murmured. Akira dismissed the Persona, then swiped the 'shards of power' Justine set on the food slot shelf. He thought back to his weakest Persona. All of them had problems with one angle of attack or another, but Agathion seemed particularly flimsy no matter what attack came at it. After a moment, the green imp in a vase coalesced in the center of the panopticon. "This one."

Justine gave a satisfied nod. "Very well, Inmate."

Saturday, 2 July 2016
Evening
Shinjuku, Crossroads Bar

Akira opened the door to the booth for the bartender in a blue kimono with waves and ships exchanging arrows. They stepped into the booth overlooking what might have been a dance floor, in the days when the space used to be a night club. As usual, the booth lights were turned almost all the way down.

Ohya tapped away at a laptop on the circular table in the middle of the tiny booth, her posture hunched. She glanced up at the pair, then made a quick keystroke and sat up. She gave a theatrical clap of thanks. "Lala-chan, you brought me alcohol and an informant!"

Lala set a tall, cylindrical glass of some yellow liquid on the table. "He brought himself, honey." She planted her hands on her hips. "I know you've always been willing to go wherever the story led, but are you really using children for information, now?"

"I thought places serving alcohol weren't allowed to be run by killjoys. Kids know plenty that grumpy old men don't." Ohya reached for the tall glass, only for the plump woman to reach out and pull it just out of reach. "C'mon, Lala-chan. I need a reliable source for the dumb articles chief dumped on me." She reached again and the bartender handed over the glass. She paused before taking a sip, her eyes narrowing on the transfer student. "The fishy one here is you. Why come all the way to Shinjuku?"

Akira wished Morgana was here before lifting his hands. "Sometimes things are as simple as 'bad guys are bad'."

She took a drink, her narrowed eyes never leaving his. The residue on her lip took a little away from Ohya's otherwise imposing scrutiny. "As if. There's no such thing as a golden goose. I know what Junior wants, but what's your price?"

Akira leaned against the wall next to the door. "I'll let you know later. What's the cynicism for? This saves you from having to run all around the city."

Ohya's shoulders slumped and a distant quality entered her dark eyes. "I'm doing that anyway."

Lala crossed her arms. "Don't tell me you're still investigating Murakami. You were just complaining about the chief's ultimatum—"

"I know, I know!" The reporter scowled, then took a deep drink.

Akira shrugged, straightened his black street jacket, then sat down across the table from the journalist. He tried to convey a sense of casual ease. "I'm just here to pass along information so you can generate positive PR for the Phantom Thief."

Setting her drink down on the table, Ohya lowered the lid of her laptop to keep scanning him. "I'm sure you understand only a bad journalist doesn't check up on her leads." She took her drink in hand, though the other waved in the air as if the incredulous look on her face wasn't enough. "I mean, come on. 'Phantom Thief of Hearts' sounds high and mighty to start with."

Akira shrugged, but inside, he ground his teeth and longed to grab her computer and smack her across the face with it. Why did it seem like every time he tried to help someone, it burned him? The bitch who threw him under the bus with that drunk chief guy, and now Ohya didn't want to believe what all of Tokyo had seen. "You can't say he didn't change Kamoshida's heart. And after I posted Kaneshiro's name, he took that fat bastard down. How can you argue against that justice?"

Ohya gagged, swallowed her sip, then laughed. "You haven't really fallen for that virtuous shtick, have you?"

Lala crossed her arms, a disappointed frown on her heavy makeup. "He's a kid, Ichiko-chan. You don't need to pound your values into him."

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe the reporter really hid that much passion inside, but she jerked her free hand at the transfer student and barked, "In my line of work, the louder someone says it's charity, the surer they' got somethin' shady behind the curtain."

Lala's crossed arms slumped. "You used to be so positive, Ichiko-chan."

"And look where that got me!" She took a deep gulp from her yellow drink. "I can't even write politics anymore! Chief Fuckwad perm'ently reassigned me to culture an' en'ertainment."

Lala straightened, everything in her stance indicating she was winding up for something. Then she froze and held her hand to her earpiece. A beat passed. "I'll be right down." Her eyes focused on the reporter. "You play nice with the kid. There's too few nice boys left in the world." She departed the booth and tugged the door closed behind her.

Akira lifted a casual hand, feeling a little vindicated from the bar owner siding with him. "How about this. A bunch of the names on the Phansite have been Madarame's pupils. I think they're going after him. You ask me whatever you need to know to write something good, and you'll have something ready to throw in your boss's face the day his heart changes."

She set her yellow drink down on the table hard enough to splash a drop up, which plunged back in the large, cylindrical glass. She flopped back on her chaise chair. "But I gotta write somethin' now."

Akira shrugged. "Then ask… and get ready for two articles."

Ohya grumped, but pushed her laptop back open. They spent the next hour talking about calling cards, minions, and the Phantom Thief.

Saturday, 2 July 2016
Night
Yongen, Leblanc Loft

Yusuke woke to as deep darkness as the loft ever got, with distant city lights streaming in straight through the sliding window shutters. The rumble of the train pulling away crept inside. His bladder trembled and the artist threw the heat-wicking sheet off. Straining to remain silent, he rushed to the restaurant bathroom downstairs.

He might not have missed Sensei's passive-aggressiveness, but he did miss the toilet straight across the hall from the student quarters.

That finished, he washed and trudged back upstairs, avoiding the two noisiest steps. Before he could return to the couch with its cool sheet and pillow fluffier than he ever had at Madarame's house, he noticed the team leader who insisted he was not the tuxedo cat he appeared to be, leaning out from his cushion. A pained mumble came from the bed.

Akira turned with more of a thrash than calm twist on the mattress. His forehead creased and his hands clenched his sheet, sweat making his skin glisten. Despite the odd lighting, the clench of his jaw stood out.

Yusuke stepped closer. "Ak—"

"Shh!" Morgana spat as he hopped out of the cushion to the floor.

Yusuke whispered, "But—"

"Not here," Morgana breathed just loud enough to hear, then trotted across the floor and down the stairs.

Yusuke looked up at the transfer student clenching his sheets as if a drowning sailor holding flotsam. Having grown up under Madarame's roof, Yusuke shared a room with many people. Almost all of them could have been mistaken for the dead during the night. Curious what the team leader might have to say, he slipped downstairs to the closest booth, where the I-am-not-a-cat sat on the table. Keeping his tone low, Yusuke said, "I suppose it makes sense for worry to trouble his dreams. Tomorrow, we face Madarame's Shadow."

Morgana shook his head. "Joker is a lot of things, but typical is not one of them. Not in any sense." He looked up at the narrow gap for the staircase. "I'm a rather light sleeper. If I wasn't born that way, I must have had to learn it fast when I wound up in the Metaverse. When a threat could be just around the broom closet door, you have to be. It becomes a balancing act between being wary enough to remain aware of your surroundings and being comfortable enough to rest."

"I have noticed he seems to be the last among us to slip to sleep." Yusuke glanced at the coffee siphons, then pushed away his pang for the delicious dark drink. "I have seen my fellow students have nightmares, but that is a rare event. Or at least, I believed such disturbed sleep is rare."

Morgana's ears twisted back. "I've seen him still, but not often. He tosses and turns a lot. He almost never talks in his sleep, but pained grunts and whispers like that," he said, gesturing with his head at the ceiling, "happen almost every night. Sometimes wakes up, if it's a bad enough fit."

Yusuke scanned the team leader for a moment, the anxious press of his ears against his skull and swishing of his tail. The heavy atmosphere pressed down on the artist. "I suppose that does seem odd. I am sure my sleep has been troubled in the past, but since you all helped me awaken to my inner self, I feel like I have been able to reach a tranquility I never thought night could bring."

Morgana's tail swished faster. "Coming to peace with yourself is supposed to do that." One ear twisted out to the side. "Still, I suppose even coming to grips with yourself means there could still be things left to haunt you."

Yusuke nodded, the obstacle which felt more like a mountain of his inability to paint the truth within the human heart coming to mind. "Has he ever regaled you with his past? I understand you have been his companion since before you changed the heart of that demented coach."

The swishing of Morgana's tail slowed a little, brushing against the table on occasion. "Joker's revealed more by what he hasn't mentioned than what he has. Lady Ann and Reaper talked about birthday parties on the way up to your… Madarame's shack, and Joker didn't say a thing. There were even a few points where he seemed even more lost than during his math teacher's lectures. He's never mentioned going anywhere or doing anything with his parents. No sharing a breakfast together, no stargazing like Reaper and his mother would do before he got into sports…" The twist of those ears changed, but they remained flat against his skull. "I wonder sometimes how Akira's hurt him."

The story of being used to test EEG sensors came to Yusuke's mind and he shivered. "His father must have been a despicable man." He brightened. "Maybe, after this business with Sen—Madarame is over, you could change his heart."

Morgana shook his head. "Even Joker had that thought. The night after Kamoshida confessed, I caught him punch in 'Kurusu Houzan' into the Nav. No hit."

Pursing his lips, Yusuke tapped his fingers on the table, then stopped and pulled his hands to his lap. "I don't suppose he could have been in that 'Mementos' place."

Morgana let out a sigh and paced in a tight circle, then sat back down. "I suspect the truth is worse. People have a Shadow because there is something inside themselves they want, but deny. People like you and Lady Ann are confronted with the weakness inside and find a way to accept and overcome it, transforming that suppressed inner self into your strength: your Persona." His tail wavered as it twitched back and forth. "But there's another possibility. Somebody can be confronted with the evil inside… and embrace it."

Yusuke rubbed the pad of his thumb along a fingernail. "But what of Akira? I can't accept he could be someone like that. He didn't even hesitate to offer me the shelter of his own abode, even knowing he would have to convince his guardian. He has provided me the money for train tickets, even offered me his own made-from-scratch meals. And I see the way Ann and Ryuji stand beside him when we fight in the Metaverse. That sort of trust could not be engendered by one of black heart."

Morgana shook his head and stood on all fours, then shook again, the motion going all the way down his tail. "I'm not saying that's what happened to Joker, just that's what might have happened to his father. And if it happened a long time ago, I can see why Joker seems so… disconnected from other people."

Yusuke nodded, feeling a little more settled Akira wouldn't be in such a terrible situation. "However many his troubles are, which of you does he go to?"

Morgana's ears fell flat against his skull again. "Honestly… I think he thinks he's helping us by not bringing us his problems." His eyes rolled up in thought and the sway of his tail slowed. "Maybe he talks to that priest at the church. He's always been in a much better mood when he comes back from Mass." His eyes stared out, unfocused. "He's also seemed better after playing with his math tutor. Maybe Joker's the kind of person who just needs to have that kind of mental flexing or something."

Yusuke nodded and stood. The Phantom Thief leader bounded up the steps first, but paused before his cushion. Akira still lay under his sheet, part of it twisted around one leg, but his hands clenched the sheet. The artist stood there for several moments longer before he decided the transfer student needed rest now more than intrusion.

AN: There's something that happens when a person wants to be a good, helpful person and society around him spits on him. In many senses that applies to each of the Phantom Thieves, but even moreso to any interpretation of Kurusu Akira. Sadly, Japan is more the nation of "fly or die" than one learning from, "If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid," from Amos Dolbear of Tufts, in addition to losing out on all that energy and expertise that could have come from letting the fish prove itself by its ability to swim.

Ironically, I think Persona 4 captured this idea even better than Persona 5, which largely eschewed any of the very gripping conflict of having to overcome oneself.