Persona 5: Daywatch

Tuesday, 9 August 2016
Evening
Minato-ku, OK Mart

The bustle of people streaming through the value mart filled the grocer's with a busy kind of white noise that reminded Akira of the Junes in Inaba. He looked down at his phone for the shopping list for this week's aemono and scratched at his scalp. "I wish I'd asked a little more about why the chef did stuff at Amagi Inn." He scanned the open displays for okra.

Alliance Force, Assemble! sang out of his phone and he checked the caller ID. Iwai Kaoru. "Transportation coordination, this is Orson Buggy."

A beat passed. "Wasn't it Levy Tate, last time?"

Akira found the okra and filled a small bag. "You've gotta keep it fresh, like a good salad."

The hubub of a major city street spilled over from Kaoru's side for a few seconds. "Uh, okay. Whatever. Anyway, are you near Shibuya?"

"Just finishing up shopping in Minato-ku. I can be there in ten minutes, what's up?"

More street noise poured through the phone for a moment. "It's summer break, so I'm kind of running out of things to do. And that leaves a lot of time for thinking, but not all thoughts work out. You know what I mean?"

Only every time he thought of growing old with Hifumi. "Yeah. I think I do." He folded the bag of okra over and stuck it in his cloth shopping bag. "If you wanted to talk right now, I'm heading up to Yongen-Jaya to drop off groceries. Or if you know somewhere close to the OK Mart in Minato-ku, I'm here right now."

"Oh," Kaoru said with a breathy exhale. "If you're already grocery shopping I don't want to stop you. In this weather, the greens would wilt."

"So would I," Akira joked. "If you're wanting something filling but not heavy for dinner, there's a place with mild curry you might like. It's pretty close if you want to sit down and talk."

Evening
Yongen, Leblanc

Not another soul disturbed the tranquility of the retro-themed cafe. Despite the establishment's air conditioning, the humid heat wave infiltrated even this refuge. The scent of coffee, which always made him think of heat even when not standing next to the siphons, just added to the sensation. Akira fanned himself with a blank essay sheet as he listened to the middle-schooler go on.

"He never invited me to work," Kaoru went on. "But he only got aggressive about sending me out in April. I figured he was getting worried about the Kaneshiro Group, since they were shaking Dad down for cash."

Akira nodded. "I get why he wouldn't want you hanging around work if there's peeps like that around."

Kaoru paused to take a sip of his iced coffee, but looked no more refreshed. "I thought he'd loosen up after Kaneshiro turned himself in. Instead he's been getting even more testy. He won't talk about work, but he interrogates me about grades or what happened in basketball club… it's like nothing I'm doing is right anymore."

The sheet started to crinkle in his hand and Akira set it on the table. The boy reminded Akira of himself, his first year in school. Before he really understood what kind of a monster his old man was. "You don't spend all day in arcades and you can cook for yourself, that puts you way ahead of most people my age."

"I don't wanna be ahead of people your age," Kaoru reproached. "I mean, I'm good with the guys and gals at school, it's not a lot but it's enough. But with Dad… it's like everything's going wrong. I just want things to be okay between us. I don't want to worry at night about strange things like the delinquent who's been hanging around the store lately. So soon after the Shibuya Sweep, I'm afraid something like that's gonna start up again."

"Delinquent?" Akira straightened his satchel next to him.

"Guy who looks like he's scoping out the place. I even saw him arguing with Dad once." Kaoru shifted his beige shirt as if it chafed. "But… Dad kicked me out so I don't know what the fight was about."

Akira drew his phone. "I'll check in with the guys in case somebody's seen something, but we ought to stop in. Your old man should be there to teach you and listen to you all the time, not badger you or belittle you like mine did."

His phone buzzed and the IDs from the rest of the Phantom Thieves winked in as the group chat woke up. Ryuji was the first to text, [I'm at Untouchable now. He needs help moving shirt in the back once in a while. It's not paying, but I get discounts on mods.]

"Ryuji's holding the fort. Let's go meet up."

Evening
Shibuya

Akira took in a deep breath as they stepped into the alley in front of the model and surplus store. Summer had always been his least favorite season, but the combination of heat, humidity, and packed Tokyo streets grated his nerves. He flexed his gloved hands open and closed, but pushed on. The best way to escape both crowds and the heat was to get where you were going.

Kaoru shuffled back right before they got to the door. "It's him!"

Akira peeked through the advertisement posters and standing racks of camouflage rain-jackets inside. The shop-owner was pretty clever about arranging things so it was pretty difficult to see anything inside. There was somebody inside, maybe wearing a pale hat, gesticulating in some kind of high-energy conversation. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

"…what I'm sayin'!" Ryuji's always louder-than-necessary voice shot out. "Interference with the natural frequency of the barrel is gonna be puny compared to the way more likely thermal distortion jus' from day to day." He glanced aside and slouched against the welded grating. "Yo, Akira."

Kaoru, following behind, side-stepped behind the transfer student.

Ryuji noticed the move and his eyes narrowed on Akira. "Dude, first Futaba an' now this kid? You some kinda… kid whisperer?"

Akira stage-whispered, "Should we tell Ryuji it's just us peeps?"

Iwai straightened on his padded stool behind the counter. "What're you doin' here instead of studying? You finish that summer project for civics yet?"

When Akira's feet slid into combat position, Morgana poked his head out of the transfer student's satchel. "Easy, Joker."

Kaoru's shoulders hunched. "No, Dad."

Ryuji's eyes bulged. "You're his son?" He cracked a toothy grin and gave a double thumbs-up. "You got an effin' cool dad!"

The exclamation disarmed the tension in the room and the two Iwais stared around like actors who had forgotten their lines.

After a few seconds, Akira took a step towards the vending machine to give him a better view of both boys without having to look over a shoulder. "I'm guessing you two have never been introduced." He jerked a thumb at the track star. "Ryuji's a gun nut, but he's secretly a nice guy when he's not slacking off."

The runner gave him a flat stare. "Thanks for the backhanded compliment." He gave more a chin-wag than nod at the middle-schooler. "Yo."

Akira pointed a hand to the middle-schooler. "And this is Iwai Kaoru. Pretty level-headed for a Tokyoite."

"Hey!" both the older and younger Iwai protested.

Ryuji grinned at the middle-schooler. "Say, whaddya think of Gun About?"

Kaoru shrugged. "I'm more of a Final Fantasy or Star Ocean guy."

The track star threw his fist in the air. "Eff yeah! 'Til the End of Time never got the cred it deserved!"

The middle schooler launched into animated game discussion. Akira just gave a smirk and a shrug to the store owner as the pair trotted outside, yammering on.

A silence descended on the store under the heavy air conditioning for several seconds. "You just staked your reputation on vouching for his. I hope you're ready to pay that price."

Akira slid his hands in his pockets. "Ryuji's impulsive and doesn't study enough, but his heart's always in the right place. You can trust him further than me." He blinked and the memory of Ryuji voting no on Togo's palace flashed through his mind. "For almost anything." He straightened and said, "So how do you have Ryuji working for you if you can't afford an employee?"

"It ain't his ethics, it's his realism that's the problem. Little Man still thinks things work out." Iwai sighed and spat his lollipop stick into a trash bin on his side of the counter before reaching down and unwrapping a fresh one. "I give Little Man discounts on modifications. The models were supposed to be the mainstay of this 'honorable business' I tried to set up here, but that gets a little difficult when the honorable business dries up."

Akira stepped closer to the counter window of the welded grating to lean against it. "What exactly did Tsuda do to drive customers away?"

Iwai shifted his lollipop to the other side of his mouth. "Can't prove it, but there's this one guy online sayin' my stuff's knockoffs. A couple'a those mouth-breathing social media types bit an' now it's all over. Tsuda was a lotta things even before he became a lieutenant, I got no doubts he's got the smarts to dangle the right line in front'a the right person. Kept that piece of shit Masa on the hook for years until he skipped for the Kaneshiro clan."

Filing that fact away, Akira brandished a taunting smirk. "And here I was thinking you were the yakuza thug."

Iwai grinned around his lollipop. "You li'l shit." A darkness passed over his face. "But breathe one hint of any o' this to Kaoru an' I'll gut you like a fish." When the transfer student refused to budge, Iwai sat back and glanced over the student. "Guess that went without sayin'. Unlike Little Man you don't run your mouth."

"How exactly did Masa jump from the Hashiba clan to the Kaneshiro clan?"

Iwai leaned back and clapped a hand on his knee. "The higher up you are, the harder it is to move. Thing is, the meat on the street? Not even grunts, these are the bodies you don't even fork over money so they have a place to stay, they're the friends of friends you call up when you need to show up with nine when the other guy has eight. Those guys are one yen a piece, an' even less loyal. Nobody lets 'em know what ops are up 'less it's to tell 'em where they need to be an' when 'cause that's all that type needs to know. Then some of the Hashiba officers' kids started gettin' poisoned an' Masa skipped out. He must'a found some kinda offerin' for them to take 'em in, I just got no clue what."

"Drugs," Akira said, adjusting his grey gloves.

The proprietor's grey eyes bored into the student's for a moment before he blinked. "Nah, don't matter. He's not my problem. He was Tsuda's back in the Hashiba clan, and he's somebody else's problem now." Iwai stood. "C'mon back. If you're gonna drive off the help, you're gonna pick up where he left off. Perform well and I might consider expanding your special menu. That info you brought about the Hong Kong mafia opened up a few doors, I just gotta venture forward carefully. I'm a known quantity in a lotta those circles, but I don't have a clan's backing anymore."

Wednesday, 10 August 2016
Early Morning
Yongen, Sakura House

Knocking on the front door, Akira took in another breath of hot, humid air made only a little more bearable by the downpour making rivers of the streets. The hacker still wasn't responding, even to calls or texts. Rush hour would still be going on. "Futaba-kun!"

Morgana poked his head out of the satchel and shook his head when a droplet of water dripped on his ear. "You don't think she backed out, did she? Futaba was doing so well in her first two ventures out. She looked like she wasn't even bothered by going out when she came to Leblanc."

"You don't think she had a collapse, do you?" Akira pounded on the door. "Futaba-kun!"

"Shh!" the team leader snapped, then turned around in the leather satchel to peer out the back. Long seconds passed before a dark shape under a dark umbrella passed by. "Okay, she's gone." He turned back around. "Here. I'll just unlock it. She should be okay, but it's not like the doctor gave a clean bill of health."

Akira's gloved palm slapped over his forehead. "Shit, I forgot about that. She asked us to bring Futaba there first thing. I know she still needs to adjust to the rest of the team, but if Doctor Takemi finds out we've been sneaking Futaba out she's going to be pissed." He brought out his phone to inform the Phantom Thieves that he hadn't gotten a hold of the hacker yet, but they would need to bring her for the promised check-up. "I wasn't planning on trying to force Futaba to brave rush hour, so this shouldn't delay our plans."

The lock popped and Morgana retreated back into the satchel. "Okay. It's not like this is the first time you've committed breaking and entering."

The transfer student frowned. "It's not like I'm breaking anything." He pushed the door open, stepped inside, then closed it and doffed his shoes. "Futaba-kun! Is everything okay?"

Something thumped against the floor above. Several seconds later, his phone buzzed. [What are you doing here so early?]

[Futaba, today is another day of socializing with the team. We talked about this yesterday.]

[But… so early? Someone will pay for this.]

[I'll take my payment in ice cream bars.]

[I mean YOU pay ME!]

Morgana groused from the transfer student's shoulder. "Are you trying to annoy her?"

Akira thrust out his chest, though with the team leader perched the gesture wouldn't have its full impact. "She's awake." He paced to the stairs and cupped his hands around his mouth. "How much longer do you need to get ready?"

[Five more minutes.]

Morgana tilted his head, ears angling this way and that. "She just got back in bed."

Akira let out a groan and put his phone away. "I wonder if this is what people with siblings have to put up with." He marched up the stairs, clapping his hands as he began to sing, "Wake up, it's late! It's twenty minutes after eight! Come on, shake a leg, have some juice and scrambled—"

Futaba's door opened and she hurled a larger-than-fist-sized magic 8 ball. She still wore the same rumpled clothes from yesterday and the orange hair stuck flat against her head.

Akira caught the ball. She had fair strength for somebody who was out of shape.

Her dark brown eyes glared at him as if that alone could cause him to burst into flames. He stepped closer but decided not to hand back the heavy ball. "You've got a ways to go to master your mother's glare. Makoto could probably give you pointers."

"You're worse than a devil," she muttered. "You're a morning person." A beat passed. "Also, it's not 8:20. It's nine something."

"Yeah, I know. Only thing that rhymed," he said, pulling out his phone to message the group. [Futaba's okay, she's just slow going in the morning.] He looked up at the girl stumbling over to her desk. "If you'll get dressed and ready to head out to Doctor Takemi's and Ann's—"

"Whoa!" Her dark eyes shot wide, though without her glasses the hallway light made her face look strange. "You want me to go to some strange doctor?"

Akira crossed his arms. "She's not strange, she's the neighborhood doc. Checked you over when you collapsed after your palace blew up."

Morgana hopped up to the transfer student's shoulder. "And she knows her stuff. She even offered Joker some anti-anxiety prescriptions." A short beat passed as his blue eyes passed over the ruffled girl. "You should've seen how worried he was about you. We promised to take you for a check-up to keep the doctor or him," he gestured his fuzzy chin at the transfer student, "from getting worse."

She scratched her head, but most of her un-brushed hair still stuck out at odd angles. "I guess I was out for a couple days. I just run outta juice."

Akira lifted his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "That's hardly usual, Futaba. You didn't zonk out for days at a time in Shinjou, did you?"

She braced a hand on the wall just inside her door. "No." She shifted her weight from foot to foot as her gaze fell to the floor. "Is it really that bad?"

Akira straightened his glasses. "Futaba, it's well past time that I've ever been up to get ready for school. You haven't been eating right or exercising for quite a while, and those are going to have definite impacts on top of all the stress you've been dealing with. There are as many neurons in the gastro-intestinal tract by weight as in your brain, of course that's going to have a negative impact on your mind. Doc's just around the corner so it's hardly even going out. We'll make sure you don't have any lingering health complications that your old ba—family caused. Or never took care of. Then we'll take the train up to Ann's."

Her teeth grit. "You sure we can't just do one?"

He ruffled her hair. "I wouldn't ask you to do something I didn't think you could do. And I'll be with you the whole way."

She dodged back from his hand, a blush on her cheeks. It took several long seconds before she regained her breath. "O-o-okay." She straightened in the manner of someone trying to show off to herself, and raised both clenched fists up. "I… I still don't know if my level's high enough, but with a good party bonus, I'll do my best." She allowed him enough time for a satisfied smile before she shoved at him. "Now get outta my room and let a girl change!"

Yongen, Takemi Medical Clinic

Futaba kept a hand clenched on the transfer student's. She'd been poked, prodded, weighed, and questioned for half an hour in what was definitely not the not-a-big-deal checkup she was promised. There would be vengeance later, but by the time she was in it, a woman with every gram of Mom's officious assurance – and dark hair in a slightly less tidy style very close to Mom's – already had her hooked into it. If only she'd been wearing a smart pantsuit like Mom instead of that dark blue dress under her white coat.

Doctor Takemi clacked away at a keyboard that had to be more than ten years old and scrolled down her notes field in the examination documentation. She tabbed to a new window and read some dense medical entry for a few moments before turning around. "Heart rate and blood pressure are both above normal, but with a little more attentiveness to her diet and some exercise and she should fall back into the healthy range for her age." She turned in her swivel chair and scribbled a final line on her paper, then handed it to the hacker. "Work on that inconsistent sleep schedule and your stress-retention habits. Those are both negatively impacting your health."

Futaba shot straight. "Y-yes, Ma'am!"

Takemi waved at her with her clipboard. "Ease up, kiddo. I can only take so many high-strung kids." Her smirk at the transfer student spoke volumes.

Akira nodded from his seat on the examination bed next to her. "I'll ask Yoshizawa-san about lower-impact exercises and warm-ups." He tapped his free hand against his chin. "And either she or Makoto should have a good idea about nutrition, I've seen both reading recipes."

The doctor gave a shallow smirk. "At least one of you is keeping up on fundamental self-maintenance." Her smirk grew a bit as she looked down at the hacker. "Make sure he keeps up on it, okay? He's not so good at self-care, so having his girlfriend watch him might help."

"Oh, I'm just family. His girlfriend's pretty hot, though." Futaba chuckled at the boy's blushed protestations.

Takemi's smirk expanded into an even smile and she took another sheet and scribbled down on it, then handed it to the transfer student. "The usual. Less processed food, more regular sleep, exercise to counterbalance stress. But if today's any indication, she'll turn out okay."

This doctor lady wasn't nearly as scary as the people from social services. And double-teaming against Akira was so fun! Still, with as clean a bill of health as a shut in – former shut in – could have, she hopped up and slipped her furred green summer jacket back on. To be honest, she feared worse after the number of days she spent at Youji's without any food at all.

Akira noticed her slowed pace in the lobby and gestured her to the far end of the empty lobby. "Hey, you okay? Anything else you needed to ask Doc about? I can wait out here—"

She shook her head. "Just thinking how different things seem. I noticed that Takemi-sensei's hair reminded me of Mom and… it didn't hurt inside." She fiddled with her fingers. "I couldn't even hear Mom's name without crying for so long. And after that letter, everyone started to seem as scary and angry as those men from Blue Cove."

He rubbed the back of his neck, that stormy grey gaze falling to the floor. "Yeah. Negative cognitive association is exactly the kind of shit my old… man would do." He tapped a foot a couple times. "Think you'd be good to see Doctor Takemi again? She patches us up when the Metaverse hits us a little harder than we're quite prepared for."

Futaba clasped her hands behind her back and tapped a boot toe against the floor. "She know about the Phantom Thieves?"

Morgana popped his head out of the leather satchel. "Yes, thanks to him."

Akira clapped a palm over his face. "Oh you can't put it all on me. When we started it was just bruises and sprains, things I could explain away by letting her think the yakuza did it. But when we started coming in with frostbite and electrical burns? On some but not all of us? In the same day?" He took off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "She doesn't know much, but she was smart enough to piece together that we're getting into something… out of normal. We haven't decided yet how much to tell her about the Metaverse. But she knows who we are. By gist, anyway." He set his glasses back on and reached out a hand. "For now, let's get to Ann's."

Wednesday, 10 August 2016
Morning
Hiroo, Ann's Home

Akira tapped his shoes against the corrugated iron grating in front of the tall condominium building. The outside had the same faux-stone facing as almost all the other buildings in the well-to-do neighborhood, broken by tall windows. It didn't look like any of them opened, which meant the place must have robust air conditioning. As much sweat as dripped down his neck, he could really use some cool relief.

Futaba clutched his sleeve, standing closer to him than he felt comfortable. At least she made it through a morning check-up with Doctor Takemi. He couldn't blame the hacker for feeling hemmed in by the churning mass of humanity. He never felt oppressed by crowds in the smaller towns and cities he grew up in, but nowhere held a candle to the human tides of Tokyo. Behind, he heard the springy footsteps of Ryuji closing from behind, the plastic shopping bags in both hands crinkling. His approach just caused Futaba to step closer, pressing against his side.

"It's just Ryuji," Akira assured her before retrieving his phone. The runner didn't have a hand free to text Ann. Seeing no need to create a new thread, he opened up the pages-long chat started when they hit the grocer's for today's food and snacks. [We're here. Could you buzz us in?]

An intercom and column of unlabeled buttons occupied the wall to the right of the entry door, though the camera aperture looked smudged.

A beat later, the front door clicked. Akira yanked it open before it could time out. He led the trudge up eight flights of a tiny, square stairwell to Ann's floor.

Futaba ducked in with more energy than was fair for the oppressive heat, even throwing out a, "Hurry up, slowpoke!" at the runner.

"Hey, you guys wan'ed all the bulky shit," Ryuji threw back. "I said we should just get some pocky an' crisps."

"You've gotta have fiber an' other stuff with your sugar and salt," Akira riposted as they made the turn to the third floor.

Futaba paused to adjust her grip on her grocery bag, then sped up to return to the transfer student's side. "Instant ramen is a must. So easy."

Akira felt his mouth twist. "No satisfaction from it. Might as well just buy food paste."

Ryuji hopped up the last step to the fourth floor. "It ain't a pasta bar like Coach Wada-san used ta bring us to before a meet, but noodles jus' satisfy."

"Yeah!" Futaba said, her pace lightening. "Not like peanut butter and celery. Who heard of something weird like that?"

"Yoshizawa," Akira said, jaw still tense from having to navigate crowds in the heat. "You heard what Doctor Takemi said, you need to start exercising and eating right. At least I suggested good food that's going to energize." He threw over his shoulder, "You took forever grabbing gummies and shit from the grocer's mart."

Ryuji let out a groan. Futaba exhibited signs of a panic attack when they tried to go into a grocer's which was much busier than the transfer student expected, so the runner had to go in and grab everyone's grub. "I'd'a been done half an hour ago if you an' Ann hadn't been changin' your minds every three minutes!"

"We're going to be here for lunch," Akira riposted. "Why not get something good?"

"Cause we're jus' hangin' out!" Ryuji threw back. "Instant ramen an' pocky ain't complicated."

Akira came to Ann's floor and knocked.

The thick door swung open and Ann stood there, her usual voluminous pigtails cascading onto a bold black halter top that showed off a smooth belly. Cut-off denim shorts bared plenty of leg and set his heart speeding even before she gave one of her typical sunny smiles. "Hey!"

"Hi," Akira managed, flinching at how dumb he sounded. She trotted inside and Akira paused to slip out of his shoes, then grab Futaba before she could tromp inside with hers still on. "Hey, shoes."

She gave an embarrassed flush and scurried back to the welcome mat. "S-sorry. Forgot I was wearing them." She hung up her green jacket, then followed Akira in as the runner set down his bags and closed the door behind him so he could get his shoes off.

A short hallway opened to a den almost big enough to fit the whole loft above Leblanc in it. The yellow walls gave a brightness enhanced by the tall windows, with landscape photographs hanging between. A single, humble door sat against the wall beside a large, flat-screen TV to his left. To his right, the den opened up to a dining room with a sturdy wood table. Beyond that, an open counter gave glimpse to that industrial-type of post-modern kitchen beyond, where Ann trotted back in with sodas in both hands. "It's still hot out there. I figured you guys could use some."

"Thank you," Futaba said, only hesitating a moment before taking it.

Ryuji took his, popped it open, and started guzzling as if two girls weren't staring straight at him. The display made Akira's stomach squirm.

Before the transfer student could complain, Morgana popped his head out of the leather satchel and hopped out. "Wow. So this is the abode of the lovely Lady Ann. Tasteful artwork and furniture."

Akira straightened his glasses on his face. "Weren't your parents in fashion?"

She gave the team leader a show smile, but her focus stayed on the hacker. "Mama picked out the photos. They've done alterations at home a few times before, but she wanted home to be more of a respite from the fashion industry." A tension entered her eyes as she looked around. "You know, I think you guys are the only ones I've ever brought in, besides Shiho and Yuuki."

Akira shrugged to try to counter whatever was pressing down on her thoughts. "Well, getting to show off your home is kind of a big deal, right? Not something for distant acquaintances."

Futaba trotted over to the Wii underneath the TV and scrutinized the stack of games next to it. "What is You Don't Know Jack?"

Ann paced closer. "Uh… that game tests friendships. Maaaybe we start with another game first."

Morgana hopped up on a chair against the dining table. "I didn't realize we had so many snacks until they're all together." He called out to the runner. "What exactly were you planning on doing?"

"Pigging out?" Akira ventured with a smirk.

Ann threw a couch pillow at him. "Eating snacks is the best part of lounging at home."

Tossing back the pillow, Akira opened his mouth to retort that getting stuck at home sucked. For most of his life, that was the Smiling Mountain Mental Institution because his old bastard didn't want to live away from work.

His delay gave Ryuji the opportunity to tease, "You're gonna get fat, y'know."

Another couch pillow hurled at him, smacking the runner right in the face.

Ryuji let it bounce to the ground, then spotted the Wii. "Oh! Mario Kart rematch!" He hopped over the back of the couch and plopped down. "I bet Miss Computer is effin' awesome at it!"

Futaba sank down onto the far end of the couch. "I used to play racing games with Kana, but… after… Once I was with Sojiro, the only thing left in my life was finding out what happened to Mom's research. They may have been able to fool me about what happened to her, but she never would have burned her research."

Ann came to a stop next to the hacker. "Hey. If you don't wanna talk about what happened then, that's okay. You went through some horrible times after losing your mom, but you're never going back there. And you've got us, now, too."

Futaba gave a grateful smile, then fist-pumped with both hands. "Thanks. But for right now, it's time for me to kick your butts in Mario Kart!"

Late Afternoon
Hiroo, Ann's Home

Ann trotted out of the kitchen and set a tall glass of green tea in front of the transfer student, then sat down next to Futaba with her own. The hacker sat at the dining table, her own soda forgotten in one hand and a bowl of salted-lemon crisps in the other.

Ryuji sat across the dinner table from them, his chest puffed out with pride and eyes sparkling with energy as he regaled them with tales of his time as the track star of Shujin. "It must'a been ten paces after I bust through the tape before I realized I won. I mean, there were nine schools at that meet. Everyone was screamin' an' cheerin' an' there were girls all over me!"

"Did they trip?" Akira said, his lips quirked up.

Ryuji growled.

Futaba nodded. "As a member of the opposite sex, I detect no charm from you." She turned up her nose and turned to the model. "Right, Ann-san?"

She avoided meeting either the runner or hacker's gaze. "I only went to the volleyball games to see Shiho." She coughed and straightened her back. "If you're gonna tell tales, you gotta make them believable. There's no way you were ever a chick magnet."

Ryuji wheezed, his visage struck with betrayal.

Morgana chuckled. "You've got to admit, gentlemen don't go around bragging about how popular they are." He sat down, his own chest thrust out and gave a side-eye to Ann. "A gentleman offers a helping hand to any lady in need, but always has his sword and his handkerchief ready for his soul mate."

Ryuji rolled his eyes. "That's a buncha…" His eyes flicked to the hacker. "…hooey. All guys are lookin' for is a little action."

Akira shot the runner a burning glare and his lip twitched, baring his teeth. "No, all guys are not just looking 'for a little action'." He crossed one arm across his chest and took a deep gulp of his tea. "Some of us want dignity and companionship."

"Awww," Futaba drawled. She tossed another crisp in her mouth, munched, then swallowed and added, "How cute. A unicorn! A guy who just wants to be friends."

Ann noticed the way the transfer student sat back in his chair, angled away from them, but especially the tightness around his eyes. The model waved down at the hacker. "Hey, hey. Ease up on the guy. Friendships are how romances start, after all."

"Pfeh," Ryuji let out, spitting flecks of chewed potato crisps on her table. "Like any o' us got real prospects."

"Says you." Ann turned her nose up at him. "Yusuke asked me out to dinner tonight."

Futaba gave a congratulatory clap, the team leader let out a melodramatic gasp, and Akira gave a, "For real?"

Ryuji shot the transfer student a momentary glare. "No stealin' my lines, bro." Then he swallowed his chewed crisps and whipped around to her. "You serious? Weren't you an' Akira…"

She was sure that couldn't be the case, but glanced at him anyway. He seemed just as shocked, though it was hard to interpret the blush on his face. "No!" Not that she'd have rejected an overture from the transfer student, but he'd been more interested in Shiho. Recent weeks pointed elsewhere, his blushing over the Venus of Shogi back during yukata shopping was adorable.

Futaba gave a theatrical roll of her eyes. "What's the point of even getting into that? It's not like people get married until after high school."

Ann shot a knowing smirk at the transfer student. "No harm in planning ahead, right, Akira?"

He somehow almost dropped the cup he was holding with both hands.

The track star snorted with laughter. "I dunno why Prez thought this was gonna be some big deal last night. 'Taba's tote cool. Says what she thinks like it's nothin'."

The hacker's face flushed and a small smile wormed its way across.

Akira snatched a chip from the hacker's bowl. "This is Japan. Are you sure 'speaking one's mind' is really normal?"

"Hush," the team leader riposted.

The snark still seemed to cow the hacker just a bit. "I'm not 'xactly an expert in what normal is."

Akira straightened. "It's what everybody else is not."

All the others rolled their eyes and groaned. Morgana scanned the group with pride in his pose. "I'm calling today another good day. The doctor is placated and our newest member has proven adept at interacting with the team. All we need to do is set the agenda for tomorrow."

To the model's surprise, Futaba set her drink on the table and stood. "What about Togo's pyramid?"

"Most palaces aren't pyramids," Akira corrected.

"Whatever," the hacker tossed back without missing a beat. "She's been waiting since before you guys started mine."

Akira gave a nod, his features sliding into a muted thankfulness. His hand patted her shoulder.

Missing the small exchange, Ryuji popped upright in his chair. "You dudes sure that's a good idea? She's been doin' cool for normal stuff, but… the Metaverse has Shadows who wanna eat us an' shit."

"Ryuji!" Ann barked.

Morgana stood. "Actually, he has some valid concerns. The Metaverse isn't a place to go to avoid discomfort from the real world."

Futaba's arms tightened on the back of her chair. "Hrg. It's not that." She glanced at the others and withered under their scrutiny. "Not just that. I just awakened to my Persona, and I need to learn how to use it if I'm going to save people. Like you guys saved me. Not every game has a tutorial level for new party members, so…" Futaba stood back and bowed. "So even if you guys have to carry me, I promise I'll fight hard and get stronger. Give me a chance to show you – and myself – what I can do!"

A long, tense beat passed before she heard the team leader give an amused huff. "She's right. She needs to learn how strong she is, and the Metaverse is the one place that leaves no room for ambiguity." Morgana's tail swished back and forth. "But you have to follow our example and my orders. No charging ahead, especially before you get a feel for your Persona."

Futaba straightened, her fingers still clenching the back of that dining room chair, but a brightness to her eyes. She raised both hands in clenched fists. "I'm not the weak girl who thought death was the only escape anymore!" She flashed them a grin. "You'll all see Futaba, extraordinaire! I-We're gonna save hearts just like you did for me!"

Wednesday, 10 August 2016
Early Evening
Hiroo, Subway Station

Ryuji came to a casual stop at a subway station just like any other in Tokyo. Beside him, the transfer student shuffled around, trying to find a spot closer to an AC outflow vent while Futaba clenched his sleeve. Somebody ought to record them, they were so awkward they could make money at one of those pity cringe channels. The runner pulled out his phone to check his feeds.

Up at the top, a blog shot back against Phantom Thief nay-sayers.

The runner didn't preen. Much.

More footsteps joined them, a couple of cuties listening to some streamer on one of their phones talking about Medjed. The one with the page-boy hair cut said to her friend, "Just wait. The Phantom Thief's gonna take Medjed down for sure. They got every heart they send a calling card to. Takin' down scumbags left and right. No way are they gonna let someone barge in on Japan." She gave a girly squeal. "I wish I could run into him. I'd totally date the hero of Japan."

They continued down the station to the spot where the second train car would stop, and Ryuji watched as that ass so worth tapping walked. For a beat he considered elbowing Akira and talking about the luck of the Phantom Thief, but despite the good day with Futaba-chan he still seemed like he was in stick-up-his-ass mode. Instead, he brought up the Phantom Thief group chat. [Our popularity is growing and people don't even know we defeated Medjed yet! And get this: a super cute chick said she wants to go out with the Phantom Thief!]

Ann's ID winked in. [But not YOU, huh?]

Futaba texted next, [No surprise. As a member of the opposite sex, I sense no charm from you, Ryuji.]

Damn, that chick was cute as hell but she out-bitched Ann. [You have to say it over text, too?]

Makoto's ID winked in. [Too? What's been going on over there? Akira, Ann, I specifically asked you two to keep an eye on Futaba-chan.]

[No worries,] Ann sent. [We just chatted over snacks and Mario Kart. If you play with Futaba, do NOT underestimate her with a small driver in the kart. She never makes the same mistake twice.]

"Psht," Ryuji blew out. Today was a work out. [It was only easy for YOU because you all ragged on me all day. And Futaba totally goes for cheap shots with that forking blue shell. I feel like we still need to cut loose. It could even be more 'visit new places' for her.] He sent that and thought. He could almost feel the lightbulb wink on above his head. [Let's go play some more darts! Anybody up for Penguin Sniper?]

Futaba texted, [Why would you give a Prinny a gun? You throw those suckers and BOOM!]

Ryuji sighed. These guys needed to get out. Since she was just a meter away, he said, "It's a game hall."

Akira glanced between the hacker holding onto his sleeve with both hands and runner. "I think I'd better drop her off so she can get some rest."

Ryuji scuffed the floor with his sneakers. "Yeah, you're prolly right, but you should come after that. You 'specially need to cut loose." He looked down at his buzzing phone to see the artist and Ann both mention they had prior engagements. Huh. Maybe she was telling the truth. [What about the rest of you? Team building and fun can go together! My treat.]

"That's so you, Reaper," Morgana said from the transfer student's shoulder.

[I'm finished with dinner,] Makoto sent. [I had to deliver Big Sis's to the courthouse because she's too busy to come home tonight, but I'm already on my way back.]

Ann texted, [Well, since you're paying, maybe I could bring Yusuke and Yuuki along.]

[I'm game.] Mishima texted, [Where exactly is this penguin place?]

Ann linked a map highlighting Penguin Sniper.

[Wait a second, I was thinking paying for three,] he protested.

Morgana gave a devilish smirk that only a friggin' cat could pull off, then said, "Think you're ready for the public, Futaba?"

Oh, that asshole.

The small girl shifted her weight from foot to foot, her hands never leaving their grip on Akira's sleeves. She looked up at him and he let out a breath. "You've gotten a lot better since yesterday, but you don't have to if you don't want to. I think it would be neat, but there's a lot of people there and it's quite a train ride from Yongen-Jaya relative to Hiroo."

She shook her head and pulled at his arm like an impatient toddler. Of course Akira didn't complain about the cutie pressing against him.

Akira texted, [I'll drop off Futaba first. See you at the billiard tables?]

[They have billiards? It's been ages since I've played,] Mishima replied.

Yusuke texted, [If Takamaki-san is fine with it, I accept your invitation, Sakamoto-san.]

Ryuji arched an eyebrow, but the train was pulling in so his, "For real," was lost to the rushing wind.

Wednesday, 10 August 2016
Evening
Kichijoji, Penguin Sniper

Akira strode up the steps and into air-conditioned bliss. Conversation swirled around and ice clinked in glasses, the sound broken by the occasional crack of what sounded like heavy ceramic. Definitely too many people for Futaba, but most people milled around in one small area so it didn't rub him wrong like street-side crowds. It didn't take long to identify the table where it looked like Makoto was showing Ann how to use a stick.

True to his word, the runner paid for their tickets, so Akira walked up behind Ryuji, who stood behind the girls, dumb grin on his face, his eyes locked on the class president's skirted profile as she bent over the table. Akira flicked the track star's ear.

"Ow!" Ryuji hopped away and spun with his fists coming up before he identified the transfer student. He shot a tired glare and rubbed the ear. "Jerk. 'Bout time you got here." He waved across the table at Yuuki and Yusuke. "Okay, dudes! Now that we got an even number, what we gonna play?"

Yusuke brushed back a lock of hair and scanned the table. "That is a good question. Akira-san, have you ever played?"

The transfer student shook his head. "Never was at a place big enough for one."

With the artist holding the other cue, Yuuki slipped his hands in his pockets. "Well, with the variety of different skill levels, a straight team match might not be a good idea. I don't know if there's a proper name for this, but have any of you heard of table score team games?" When they shook their heads, he cleared his throat. "Each team is trying to reach a goal limit, which allows a handicap for players of different skill levels to all challenge themselves without being overwhelmed by the most skilled player. Some actions, like when you knock the cue ball into the pocket," he pointed at a white ball, "increase the score of the table. So it can be competitive or cooperative."

"A sagacious plan, Mishima-san," the artist said. "Shall we break into teams, with the newest and oldest players to help us reach our stride?"

Akira smiled. It was a little bit fake, but everybody else was having a good time and until Togo's palace came up he did want to try. What was it that Father Motoori said? Fake it 'til you make it? With these people, he started to think he might be able to.

AN: The song Akira sings is from Animaniacs. Not because he'd likely know it, but because "I'm Mad" is funny.