Persona 5: Daywatch

Monday, 18 July 2016
Late Afternoon
Harajuku, Takenoko Street

Akira adjusted the three men's summer yukata's folded over his right arm, then stumbled back when a woman holding a purse big enough to hide Ann in stormed in front of him, then off to a side aisle. The first couple he snarled or snapped at, but with shopping having been going on for hours he lost track of the number of people who either bumped into him or crossed his path without acknowledging his existence. Akira backed up against a standing rack of western-style jackets. "I thought it was bad out on the street. How do people survive in these places?"

Ann held the sleeve of a flowery, in-house style women's kimono dominated by bright pinks and yellows. "It's the rush, Akira! The thrill of finding something cute on sale!"

He shot her a hooded gaze. "Like that special with the same regular price as the week's special on the printed-out tag that fell out?"

She shot him a faux-grimace, but before she had a chance to throw a riposte, the artist dashed out from behind a rack of hats and hair pins. "I have found it, Grand Fashionista!"

Ann giggled and took the navy-blue men's yukata. With Makoto too busy to join them, she fed a few recommendations from her limited experience with fashion and summer celebrations she thought might work with Akira. A checkerboard-pattern of alternating dark and light horses dominated the torso and upper sleeves. She draped it over Akira. "Not a bad look. I wonder how Prez thought of it."

Akira straightened it as much as he could while holding onto the three Ann and Yusuke already picked out for him, as well as a paper shopping bag laden down with the day's previous acquisitions. "Must have been the last time I talked to her about shogi. You guys do remember that hacker stole everything in my dar—er, that one account? I can't afford to buy one yukata."

She waved him off. "I can pick this up. Totally worth it for a team shop-out." She shifted to the artist standing back to look at the transfer student through the frame of his fingers. "What do you think?"

Another middle-aged woman barged through an aisle between the Phantom Thieves.

Yusuke lowered his extended hands. "I can see the appeal. The cavalry motif and use of negative space on the back do seem to apply to Akira. There is a sense of one always on the move." He looked at the transfer student, down, then back up to the pale grey eyes. "You do not approve?"

Akira sighed. "I just… don't know. You guys said something would click, but the only sense I'm getting is fabric coming out of someone else's factory."

Morgana poked his head out from beneath the dark yukata draped over the transfer student's torso. "You're getting lost in the physicality of the supply chain. The colors and the patterns are supposed to evoke something in you."

"It all sounds like double-talk," Akira grumbled. He held up the yukata Yusuke brought. There was nothing wrong with it per se, but it would serve for an example. "The clown pants must be wide, but close. They must be loud, but soft."

Ann snatched it out of his hands, then held them up to the artist's shoulders. "Well, what do you think?"

He held up the dark fabric. "The colors are not far from mine. Mine is muave, with a sky blue criss-cross pattern. There is something… endless about it."

Ann set a fist against her hip while she looked down to one of the three still folded over the transfer student's arm. "I still think the red one goes well with you. The fire in the sky thing kind of doesn't make sense, but you don't wear hats or scarves or accessories you'd have to match, so I think the fire fits the intensity in your eyes."

Akira held his free hand to his chin in as close to an idol pose as he could while holding a bulky bag and several folded sets of clothing on one arm. "Oh, but I'd have to get a whole new line of lipstick and eye shadow."

Ann threw the horse-checkered yukata at him. "You're not allowed to talk about eye shadow when you don't wear it."

"Perhaps he is still undecided what he is trying to match to," Yusuke provided. "The dark frames of your glasses allow you to contrast the brightness of warm colors, or to complement the cooler ones. Perhaps think of it as a complement to the palette of we festival-goers. Do you have anyone you might wish to stand beside?"

Hifumi sprang to mind and Akira's cheeks warmed.

The phones of all three Phantom Thieves buzzed. Makoto's ID sat at the top of the Phantom Thief chat. [Medjed just called out the Phantom Thief.] She followed up with a link to a live news stream on KFTV.

Ann's phone brought up the video first, so the others congregated close as a middle-aged reporter in a suit droned on, "…Phantom Thief, do not speak of your false justice. A pretend hero is not what the world needs. We are the true executors of justice."

Yusuke squinted to read the scrolling text at the bottom. "Who is Medjed and why would they call us out?"

The reporter kept reading his teleprompter, "As a show of magnanimity, Medjed asked the Phantom Thief to repent, threatening retaliation if no action is taken."

Ann shrugged what little she could while trying to hold her phone steady. "I've never heard of them before."

The artist pulled his phone back out and opened the browser.

The news stream switched to a police press room where camera flashes cast vague impressions of a seizure in the small, regular motions of the police spokesman in dress regalia. After a few minutes of him yammering at reporters who more argued with him and each other than engaged in meaningful back-and-forth, she closed the video.

Morgana stood, pushing against the layers of fabric spilling over the satchel hanging on Akira's shoulder. "I can't believe them! They sounded more like sports commentators. Like they were more interested in salacious details than the good that we've done for society."

Yusuke's gaze took a distant quality and he muttered, "Medjed," as he scrolled through a search on his phone.

Ann brought the group chat back up. She glanced over at the artist, who scrolled down, his eyes intent on his phone. "Well, Yusuke's in art-land." She glanced up at Akira, a mischievous twinkle in her eye that set the transfer student's hair on end. She led him a few steps away so they could speak in hushed tones. "Don't think I forgot what we were talking about before. You still need to pick a yukata or two. So who would you wanna match up with?"

Hifumi snapped into his mind's eye again, her hands still clasped behind him in that moment in the Meditation Garden. Even that little physical contact made him feel more whole than he could remember in his entire life.

Ann poked him in the cheek with a giggle. "Oh, you've got someone in mind for sure. Is it Makoto?"

Morgana cackled. "Oh, make it Togo-san!"

Ann straightened, her muscles tensing around her blue eyes. "Togo? That sounds familiar." She pulled up a browser on her phone and searched. "Oh, the Venus of Shogi! I heard about her on yesterday's shoot." Her blue eyes met his grey ones for a long moment. "You and shogi. Why does that make so much sense?" She scrolled for a bit, then shot him a sly smile. "I can see why you'd be thinking of her."

Akira tried to protest, but only a strangled sound made it out of his throat.

She looked back down at her phone and scrolled for a few moments. "Okay. I think I have a sense of the aesthetics." She took the horse-checkered yukata and set it aside, then the red one decorated with a flame motif and set that aside too. She lifted up the blue one decorated with grass tufts and creeping vines hinting at distant cliffs. "Is it serious?"

He held the cloth against him, wondering what he'd look like in it with Hifumi's arm around his while she wore that forest-pattern kimono. "M-my guess is that Medjed's sense of rivalry got pricked, but I don't know if it's just a nuisance thing or if there's more to it."

Ann thwacked his arm. "I mean Togo!"

Akira swallowed. "She was the one who told me about her mother." His grey eyes flicked to the blonde's. "Yesterday when I messaged you all about that change of heart." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I haven't even told her about my record."

Ann's head tilted, one pigtail dangling. "Why would you? That prick unjustly forced it on you 'cause you stopped him from forcing himself on that woman."

Their phones buzzed. Ryuji was the first up, [We have to worry about this medical thing?] A moment later he followed up, [Median.]

[Medjed,] Yuuki texted. [They're a handful of wanna-be Anonymous.]

Yusuke sent, [An obscure god from the Egyptian Book of the Dead.]

Akira texted, [I'm pretty sure he's not a major part of the pantheon or they'd have used him in Stargate SG-1.]

Ryuji's ID lit next. [Let's go after him as our next target.]

Morgana shook his head. "The Metaverse Navigator only locks on to the real names of specific individuals. Whether Medjed is a group or one person's alias, it won't work."

Before he could try it himself, Makoto texted, [No good. It isn't coming up as a hit in the Nav.]

Akira forwarded the team leader's explanation.

Ryuji texted, [Dam. Wouldn't bad hackers be just the kind of targets to take down?]

[Crackers,] Akira corrected. [Computer wizards who illegally access data.]

Makoto sent, [I think they have to alter data as well to be considered crackers, otherwise it's just a minor crime of computer access. I thought you said you weren't a tech person, Akira.]

[A cracker broke into Blue Cove's computers almost on a monthly basis. The times he got into my old bastard's systems he'd be up in arms in Isshiki's office. For some reason, he had the idea that she knew who it was.]

Yuuki texted, [Medjed isn't as big as Anonymous used to be, but they're recognized internationally. We can't take these guys lightly.]

Makoto's ID lit up next. [You sound like you know a lot.]

Ann grinned next to him as she typed. [Yuuki idolizes Anonymous. Has since that Egypt thing. They're what got him interested in computers. He'd always play a decker when Shiho was GMing Shadowrun.]

[Anonymous hacked some significant figure in Egypt?] Yusuke texted.

Three dots danced next to Yuuki's ID. [During the Arab Spring in 2012, Egypt tried to shut down their internet to stop pro-democracy protesters. Anonymous hacked, like, every fax machine in the country to send the instructions for how to re-connect.]

Ryuji followed with, [Dude, that DOES sound bass.]

Ann snorted with laughter.

[Bass,] Ryuji tried again.

Akira rolled his eyes. [We get the picture.]

Ann let out an 'ooo' beside him. [That could be even bigger than Kaneshiro.]

Yuuki texted, [But one of the main things people fear about hackers is their anonymity. Operating behind a pseudonym and only ever appearing online, we'd be unlikely to ever learn their location. Nobody even knows how many people are in Medjed.]

[Fork,] Ryuji texted.

Yusuke sent, [You didn't consider any of that when you proposed them, did you, Ryuji?]

Ann fluffed at one of her pigtails. "It's not like they actually gave a timeline or stakes. This might just be grandstanding."

Akira nodded, then sent, [Any insights, Makoto?]

[Big Sis specializes in financial crimes and corruption, not computer crimes. If Mishima-kun doesn't know, I definitely wouldn't.]

Ann slid the group chat aside to read something on her browser. "According to Medjed's ultimatum, they want us to submit to their instructions and they'll accept us as one of them. Otherwise hammer of justice and all that blah." She paused, eyes darting down the page. "People of Japan, cease worship of the Phantom Thief. We shall punish failure by confiscation of possessions."

Akira tossed the blue yukata over his shoulder and took the others in his right. "Well, Yuuki's not a hacker, but this is more his territory. The rest of us will just have to keep an eye out." He looked over at the artist still squinting at his phone. "You know, we can deal with Medjed later, right? Let's finish this for now."

Monday, 18 June 2016
Early Evening
Shibuya, Teikyuu Building

Ryuji held a hand to his brow to shield his eyes as he scanned the crowd. Despite being indoors, the air still felt muggy and oppressive. The 2-D class representative next to him waved a flimsy pocket notebook to try to cool himself off. Ryuji wished he had something to do the same with, but despite having capacity in his khaki shorts, the track habit of traveling as unencumbered as possible left him with nothing but his wallet to try to fan himself. The track star grunted. "It's way too effin' hot to be huntin' peeps down. When's their ETA?"

Mishima pulled out his phone and brought up the text messenger. "Last he sent, Akira's on his way here, should just be a couple minutes. Same with Kitagawa-san. No word from Ann or Niijima-senpai."

Ryuji slumped. "Wish I knew what the eff was takin' 'em so long. Least with Akira it's the first time he's worn one. Ann's got a couple, she had a different one every time school had its culture festival." He squinted out at the crowd, some chatting and some moving with little sense of urgency. "Suzui-san gonna be here?"

Mishima's shoulders drooped. "She still can't walk long enough for long public events like the fireworks festival." He bit his lip a moment. "That or she's still mad at me. Not like she doesn't deserve to be."

Ryuji held his hand over his eyes. It didn't shield his eyes like it would outdoors, but he was so used to it from track days it helped him scan the crowd even if it was just what the transfer student called psycho-somatic. "Man, if all'a you almost-married types are teachin' me anythin', it's that girls suck. Is it really worth every problem bein' all your fault even when it ain't, just for a hot piece 'a ass?"

A hand swatted the back of the track star's head and Akira walked out from behind. "When other people are that important to you, you start realizing that you're responsible for at least some of anything enough to start a fight. Even us teenage guys don't have dirty thoughts all the time."

"Just every sex seconds." Ryuji gave a playful counterpunch to the transfer student, but his aim went wide when his eyes went up above the minimalist, frameless glasses to the combed hair parted down the middle with the precision of a professional's hands. His eyes dropped to the unfamiliar blue yukata decorated with grasses and vines, then back up to the kid who was the right height, hair and eye color but wrong everything else to be… "Akira?"

The boy reached a hand to his hair, but stopped short of running his fingers through the side and lowered the limb. Pink dusted his cheeks. Akira's voice came out of his mouth, "I can't look like a slob all the time." His eyes darted out. "Ann or Makoto arrive?"

The three Shujin boys spotted the blue hair moving towards them before Yusuke slipped out of the crowds, wearing a kinda-purple yukata with a tilted blue grid on it. He gave a smile. "At last, we begin to rally. Is Takamaki-san with you?"

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Ryuji rolled his eyes. They could deny it all they wanted, he knew why they wanted to know where a ten was. "The girls're late, as usual. Wish I knew what the eff was takin' 'em so long." He looked over the artist. "Still, Yusuke, I can tell why 'rame taught you peeps how to wear 'em. You look like you belong in one."

"You are not the first to tell me so," Yusuke said.

Before he could go on, a pair of young women broke from the turbulent stream from the trains to close on the boys wearing traditional festival garb. The girls had their own versions, one pink and one black, both decorated with different flower motifs. Pink Yukata glanced up and down both dressed-up boys before giving a second look to the artist. "You boys heading to the fireworks?"

Ryuji felt his mouth drift open a little, his heart beating faster part in jealousy and part in two hot chicks in fancy clothes that made him wonder what they were wearing underneath. How did the two most clueless dudes pick up all the chicks?

Akira nodded. "We are."

Black Yukata gave the boys another once-over, the corners of her mouth curling up in approval. Her dark eyes zeroed on the transfer student. "So are we. Want to keep us company?"

Ryuji couldn't believe his luck. "Hells yeah!"

Pink Yukata took in the artist with slow appreciation. "Are you a model? You look phenomenal in that."

Black Yukata stepped closer to the transfer student, who straightened as if standing off against a senior at Shujin. She flashed him a smile that made the blood thunder in the runner's veins. "You're pretty good-looking, too." Her eyes traced over his hair. "The hair makes you look a bit dorky. A side-part would amp up the sexy."

Ryuji's jaw drifted open more. That lucky bast—

Akira retreated a step when she reached up for his hair, his hands coming up as fists for a moment before he caught himself. An exchange of glances with the class rep next to him, then Akira straightened again and stopped himself from reaching for his hair. "I-I'm taken."

Black Yukata pouted, but kept fem-ogling him.

Ryuji did his best to straighten and puff out his chest. He elbowed the transfer student. "Don't pay no 'tention to him, he's just shy. We got all night if ya want." When the transfer student gave him a weary glare, Ryuji elbowed him again. "C'mon, we ain't got all evenin' to think 'bout this. Live a little." He felt the blood rushing through him as he flashed his best smile to the girl in the black yukata, wondering if she was in college or just past.

Pink Yukata gave a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows at the artist. "Well, I'm not."

Yusuke drew one arm up as if to ward off the hot chicks. "You're disgracing your own femininity."

Even Mishima gawked, his pupils dilated. So the heart of a red-blooded man beat in Akira's class rep after all.

Ryuji grabbed fists of his pockets to keep himself from slapping his forehead. What dumbass would push away girls throwing themselves at him? The girls scuttled off and the track star turned what energy he had to glaring daggers at the artist. "Dude! You just cock-blocked not only yourself, but dudes who're ready for the next step in manhood!"

Yusuke turned up his nose. "It is unseemly to—"

Ryuji shook his head. "For real, you gotta get your head outta the ninth century. Sure, those quiet girls can be tote hot, but a girl who knows what she wants?" He gave a wide smile and made a click sound with his mouth as he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Then why don't you go after them?" Ann snapped from behind.

Ryuji turned to see Ann and Makoto, both of them stole the boys' breath. The blonde's usual pigtails were traded out for a high ponytail tonight. Ann wore a light-blue yukata she filled out even more than the pink one she wore to Shujin's culture fair last year. A pity about that bitchy look.

Makoto sighed in disappointment, though she kept her shoulders square. The posture made it easier to take in those feminine curves the boring Shujin uniforms camouflaged with sameness. Her white, floral-patterned yukata looked even more formal than Ann's, and she traded the braid in her hair for a red headband keeping her dark hair back, the way her front bangs hung over the red headband amping up the cute. The only thing that stole her sexy in that traditional way was standing right next to Ann. Ryuji didn't miss the way Makoto's eyes swept down and up the transfer student's full height twice, or the rosy tint her cheeks took.

Mishima stepped out, "We weren't going to do any such thing." He glanced over at the transfer student. "And what's this about being taken?"

Ryuji considered whether Akira was doing Ann for only a moment. They were definitely into each other, but they'd both be way calmer if that was going on. Ryuji rolled his eyes. "He was just sayin' that, dude. There ain't a guy alive who don't have his girl on his phone's background. You seen his? He's got a shogi board setup."

Akira crossed his arms, jostling the satchel on his shoulder. "It's called the Ultimate Excalibur Attack, Ryuji. It's a super hard formation I haven't figured out how to break yet."

Makoto's eyes went wide as dinner plates and she gawked him up and down in the open this time. "Akira?" Her blush grew darker.

Ann just flashed a smarmy grin. "I know, right? He cleans up nice." She gave him a thumb's up. "Told you a salon would be worth it." She turned to Yusuke. "And poor Yusuke. He probably doesn't even know what he's missing out on for talking down to an interested girl like that."

Makoto slipped her hands in the opposite sleeves. "I think it's admirable that he stays true to his ideals." Her gaze grew hot as it flicked to the track star. "Unlike someone I know."

Mishima nodded. "You've got to give him credit for being consistent." His dark eyes widened a little. "Oh, speaking of credit, how'd you guys think you did on the finals?"

Ryuji slumped in place, then pulled one hand out to point at the transfer student. "You two double-teamed me for hours with the hardest shit ever an' it was still a pain in the ass."

Makoto nodded. "Akira-kun did seem to have a pretty solid grasp on everything when we were reviewing."

Ann tugged at Yusuke's sleeve. "Well, don't just stand there. Crowds are gonna take all the best spots if we don't get going!"

Mishima rushed to keep up with the middle. "Hey, while we're all together, we should make sure everyone's migrated to LINE so we have secure communications."

Ryuji followed along, appreciating the view from behind.

Monday, 18 July 2016
Evening
Odaiba, Fireworks Festival

The model ended up being right, but a downpour started less than halfway through the fireworks. Makoto was a little surprised when the transfer student whipped up a blue umbrella, but the heavy rain drove her along with all the others under it. She couldn't identify the faint scent of soap on him over the lingering notes of coffee, but it made her blush that she was close enough to smell it. Or maybe it was the way he just fit that grassy-decorated yukata and finally did his hair, framing that boyish face.

Akira struggled to pull in a breath. "It's a two person umbrella, not a ten man tent!"

A flood warning sounded over the external speakers. Ann, getting little cover from the transfer student's umbrella, led the group's retreat into a convenience store. Makoto busied herself with trying to squeeze out the soaked half of her yukata, then straighten it.

Akira put his back against the shelves and brought up online shogi.

Ann groused, "My feet hurt. I'm soaked." She twisted at her once-floofy ponytail, wringing water out of it. "This sucks."

When the game came up on his screen, Akira grumped. "Goddammit, I hate this asshole."

Ryuji strained to listen to the chatter in the background. "Duuude. All the commotion we made with 'rame and this is all we get?"

Mishima quirked an eyebrow. "Your guys' work is covert by nature. Spies and janitors both have jobs that are very rarely thanked in public. Risette wouldn't be the big deal she is if her entire crew and production staff was always jockying for position in front of the camera."

The track star's face twisted. "But I wanna change the world with a boom, like one'a them fireworks. Not sweep floors all my life."

Akira's phone buzzed and he read for a moment, swiped and tapped his screen, then swiped back. "Shit."

Makoto leaned back as the other Phantom Thieves crowded around. Alibaba was back, texting, [Medjed is not to be discounted. In exchange for changing your target's heart, I can take care of them for you.]

Mishima leaned to try to make out the screen. "I may like Anonymous, but the things they do are on a level way above anything I can manage on computers. If he can get into your phone, maybe he can help you against Medjed, too."

Ryuji shrugged. "Makes sense to me."

Akira's lip curled. "We are not mercenaries to be sicced at whoever the latest big bad asshole wants taken out."

Yusuke nodded. "Agreed. I only recently came out from under the shadow of a criminal. I shall not serve a criminal mastermind again." He glanced over at the half-soaked class representative. "Did you discover anything about our target?"

Mishima nodded. "I've still got some print-outs to check out at home, but there are three Sakura Futabas. One lives in Nerima, but doesn't have a job or anything exceptional after her marriage certificate nine years ago. That was the one I spent the most time chasing down yesterday, so I can't confirm anything about the other two."

The transfer student's phone buzzed, and Alibaba texted, [Do not underestimate my powers as well. My skillset is uniquely qualified to counter them. If you change the target's heart, that will show me the Phantom Thief's quality and I will stop Medjed to show Japan yours.]

Makoto slipped her hands inside her sleeves. "That would be rather helpful, especially as none of us have the tools or skill set to handle a hacker. If Alibaba wanted to report us, he would have already. I think we need to put serious consideration to his offer."

Akira typed out, [We'll hold a vote tomorrow.]

Morgana shook his head to fling away a couple droplets that splattered him during the rush into the convenience store. "No sense arguing about it. Let's let our information officers do their thing and we'll get ready for a dive into Mementos. We've got several targets waiting for us anyway."

Tuesday, 19 June 2016
Lunch
Shujin, Class 2-D

About half the class lounged at their desks, most working on homework or munching on boxed lunch. Akira sent a well-wishing text to Hifumi, then set his phone down, packed up his empty box lunch, and got back to the week's homework.

The classroom's rear door slammed open, Mishima and Ryuji standing in the opening. The latter shouted, "Dude! You traitor!"

Akira blinked, as confused as the rest of the students who gave them all furtive glances.

Mishima stepped past the runner, his eyes still wide with surprise. "Grades have been posted. You ranked ninth, Akira-san!" The dozen-odd students still in the room broke into chatter. When the transfer student stared in disbelief, Mishima dashed in to grab his arm, pull him out of the chair, then lead him to the grades posted on the second floor.

Akira had always gotten better than average grades, but breaking top ten in a large, academic prep school like Shujin? Sure enough, the top ten were posted to the right of the general list, names large and their precise scores broken down by category below the bold names. Others already crowded across the hall, either in clumps of established cliques or juniors gawking at the top scorers. He heard no few wondering how he cheated, but for the first time he could remember he heard his name coming in whispers wondering how good he was.

One of the girls from his class stepped out of the broken crowds scattering through the lunch-time hallway. "Wow, I didn't know I'd have a top scorer in my very own class, Kurusu-kun." Short and Stupid clasped her hands behind her back and tilted her head down, the only two demure signals on the girl he remembered talking trash about Suzui weeks ago. "Say, could I get a copy of your notes…?"

Akira's jaw clenched tight. He was all set to lambast her when Ishikawa from class 2-C stepped forward. "I'll pay!"

"Wait, is that real? Didn't he cheat?"

"Who cares? He got the grade and Shujin put it up on the wall!"

Akira backpedaled as the crowd encroached.