Persona 5: Daywatch

Monday, 22 August 2016
Late Morning
Suginami-ku, Yoshizawa Home

Yoshizawa looked into the mirror as she finished tying the ribbon in her hair. There. That was right. That looked like Kasumi, right? Of course. Fashionable yet practical, never giving up and never failing. Brave. Everybody's favourite. She nodded into the mirror. "Okay, Yoshizawa Kasumi. Today's another day!" She checked her over-the-summer assignments, sorted them away, then took out the notes for her next gymnastics routine.

Kasumi hummed through the song which would be playing as she conducted her routine. Her room wasn't nearly large enough to play the routine proper, but she paced and spun in it anyway for what little practice putting her body through restricted motions could. Her pencil waved through the air like the ribbon's handle and she could just see it swirling around her like a spirit, a dancing partner where someone should be beside her.

Her pencil hurled into the door, bouncing off with a soft thud.

The room wasn't big enough. That had to be it. She couldn't stretch out and execute the routine as it was meant to be performed. Should she call Father and ask him to rent some gym time for her? No, he would be arguing with KFTV's chief of program scheduling around this time. Space. Space. She needed space. But she needed a critical eye to critique her performance and help her decide what she needed to focus on. Everything felt off. Even her heartbeat wasn't steady like it needed to be to stick the landing.

She changed into her street exercise clothes. Ugh, but who to spot for her?

A grim, fearless face under dark, unkempt hair popped into her mind's eye and her heart rate quickened. Then she stamped a foot on the ground. Yoshizawa Kasumi would not back down! Besides, she still owed him a training session. She took her phone and called.

"Clock watching department, Colette O'Day," his voice scratched through the speakers. At least the signal was good.

Kasumi steeled herself. "Would you be up for helping me with a few points of my routine, Senpai? The weather's as good as summer's going to get and I'd like to thank you for helping me pick out Dad's glasses."

"Of course I'd help get your dad good glasses. Us four-eyes have to look out for each other. You don't have to thank me for that," Akira-senpai said. "But I'm available."

Late Afternoon
Inokashira Park

Kasumi leaned against the back of the park bench and popped her insulated water bottle open, that blessed ice clinking inside as she tipped to gulp down a mouthful. Some days it took her hours to get in the zone, but with Senpai it was like the flick of a switch and then he couldn't stop. And it pulled her along. Senpai had a surprising reservoir of energy before, but he was a machine today. She tamped down minor envy of men's blood oxygen exchange rate advantage. He was the one who repeated the flip and tumble move, demanding every little criticism and testing every possible improvement for hours. She swirled a piece of ice around her mouth and savored the cold feeling.

Akira collapsed onto the bench, sweat pouring down his face and drenching his ratty, green, long-sleeved shirt.

Kasumi capped her bottle to cut off the temptation to guzzle. "You really know how to step up a workout, Senpai. I've been having trouble sticking the routine with Coach lately. I can't even say exactly what the problem is, I've tried incorporating novel moves and going back to the basics, but sometimes I feel like my body isn't mine."

Senpai looked up at her, though with all the sweat dripping down his face it was no wonder he didn't sit up. "Really? I guess I'll… have to look up when girls' growth spurts end. That's kinda outta the realm of physical therapy."

As he fell back into struggling to bring his breathing back down, Kasumi looked over the short, curled locks plastered to his face and rambled about Coach, her routines, and worries about her performance in a few days. Her mouth went one way, but her brain focused on this fellow athlete. So few boys were willing to push the envelope like him, which helped her push her boundaries. She reached out and traced a finger, pushing a dark lock slick with sweat. Something about this felt so… right. A feeling which had been eluding her so much of her life.

He never complained, and as she trailed off she realized she felt lighter, less encumbered than she had in months. After a while, Akira shoved himself up and guzzled from his insulated water bottle.

Now she stood and pulled his bottle away. "Whoa, Senpai! You'll make yourself sick."

He pulled against her, but as long as he'd been going, he didn't have the strength to fight his bottle out of her hands. He let her set it aside and they sat against the bench. His shoulders sagged and a hunch that wasn't there during practice bent his back. He picked up his metal water bottle, tapping his fingers on it.

"What's up, Senpai?" She fought to keep from leaning against him, he looked deflated but was still covered in sweat.

He opened his water bottle and took a more measured drink this time, then sat it down on his other side with a plonk. A droplet splattered out of it and disappeared against his sweat-darkened long-sleeved shirt. Akira leaned back against the bench as if he couldn't bear to hold himself up any longer. "You and I are different in a few things – you're a spectacular athlete."

She preened, even though he exaggerated.

"You just don't see it because you're measuring up against an idea of yourself in your head. But I understand what you were talking about, sinking hours into something… your heart and soul into it, just for it to blow up in your face." He took off his glasses, lifted his bottle, then dumped ice water over his head. Well, it's not like his shirt could've gotten much wetter. His face and closed eyes raised up in the shadow of the skyscraper blotting out their section of Inokashira, and he let a few seconds pass before he whispered, "I didn't think Hifumi and I would wind up incompatible." For a moment he looked smaller than ever before and he mumbled so quiet she wasn't sure if she was supposed to hear, "Right when I realize I'd like a family."

She sucked in a breath, feeling an empathetic coil in her gut. "That's awful, Senpai! Somebody with as much heart as you deserves someone. You've been such a great exercise partner, if you ever need to talk – or just want to try out a routine – call me any time."

Monday, 22 August 2016
Early Evening
Shinjuku, Crossroads Bar

Akira set the last cardboard carton of beer bottles onto the proper shelf in the walk-in refrigerator and looked around in satisfaction. Things had been messy and disorganized, but after a good hour's work it could've been used for a commercial. He breathed in the chill air, feigning as if taking in the late autumn air of the mountains on a run-away from the Institute.

The door hauled open and the fans spun to high to maintain temperature. Lala stepped in and paused. "Looks much better. But nobody volunteers to clean the backrooms in a bar, especially as keen as you were to interact with different people. C'mon." She grabbed a case of beer and led the way out of the refrigerated room. "Listen, kid. I went into bartending because I like the little stories. Over the years I learned when something's up. You haven't told a single joke since you came in."

"We've been busy with people coming in to celebrate the defeat of Medjed," he said, unable to meet her dark eyes.

"You should'a been here yesterday." She braced the case against the wall with her hip and stared down the student. "Seriously, I am a professional listener."

She wasn't Maruki, but she did seem to have a similar style of conversation and every patron who spoke with her had a little less stoop to their shoulders afterwards. If life was going to drop an opportunity into his lap, he needed to learn to accept it. There were precious few adults worth coming clean to. "I think I just fucked up everything with Hifumi. I'm still not sure if I tried to push too far when her mother's still…"

"Against the relationship?"

"To put it mildly," Akira acknowledged. Better than saying 'hasn't finished changing her heart yet'. "Or not keeping up. I've been dreaming about being with her since we met, but when she kissed me I had flashbacks to Mother." He raked a hand through his unkempt hair. "God, I'm such a moron. I know," he tapped his temple, "that none of it's the same, but my body reacted and then I couldn't breathe and then she was running and then…" He raised a hand in the air as if that was it. "I thought everything about us clicked." Being in different parts of the city made it harder to talk to her, and the last time he worked up the will to text her, she was updating the Phantom Thieves on group chat about her mother's status and logged off as soon as she noticed him log in.

"Sounds like hormones got a little ahead of you," Lala said without trace of condemnation in her voice. She adjusted the beer and went back to bracing it against the wall with her hip. "Hate to break it to you, kid, but relationships don't work by a mystic compatibility. It's by hard work and there ain't one that doesn't have to work through rocky moments. If you value her you'll try despite trouble, but if she values you, she's got to respect you where you are, too. If she's tryin' to goad you where you're not ready to be, that's not fair to you either."

Akira felt like his brain just flipped in his head. Or maybe the world around him. "Excuse me?"

"I've been bartending a long time, kid. I get the culture of saying it has to be the guy startin' everything, runnin' back to the girl an' say he's sorry every time, but if the relationship's gonna work you both gotta be on the same page. Best you're gonna get if you're doing all the heavy lifting is fifty percent, and it'll be a lot less than that pretty quick if it really is you doing all the work 'cause you'll put everything in the wrong place 'cause she's goin' another direction." Lala took the cardboard case in both hands. "Apologizing can be the hardest thing, but sometimes that's the wrong thing to do. I know comedies still have girls usin' the line 'if you were really sorry, you'd know what you should be sorry for', but if you run into a girl like that, run away. It isn't even always about bein' right and wrong. I mix one helluva ragoon. But if I try servin' it to a guy who can't stomach rum, even though it's a good drink, it's not right for him."

"What if I am always the one screwing things up? It's one of the few consistencies in my life." Akira fidgeted with his gloves. "The only thing I want is to make her happy, and the only thing I did was make her cry."

"Some people are going to judge you before they know you. Nothing you can do about that, all we can do is live best we can and treasure the people who get to know the real us." She adjusted her grip. "You gotta value yourself or it won't matter if she does. If she isn't respecting you where you are, you can't pull her along. Take things at your pace. Now c'mon, I can't leave Kaho all alone up front on a day like this."

They finished the short walk to the front and proceeded to disburse alcohol to patrons either commiserating the start of the work week or celebrating the recovery of the stock market after Medjed's defeat.

Many minutes later, as the transfer student washed glasses behind the counter to keep up with use outstripping the dishwashing machine, a familiar black-haired reporter walked in. Ohya turned a too-wide smile on him and planted a hand on her hip. "So there's my number-one Phantom Thief fan… who didn't say one thing about Medjed."

"Am I the Phantom Thief's keeper?"

"Trying to get out of something by quoting the Bible?" She shot him a smirk and crossed her arms as if she'd won. "If you were really Catholic, you'd know that yes, Cain was Abel's keeper. Eldest brother in the family is supposed to look out for the family."

Akira's mouth drifted open. Hifumi teaching him new things about the Bible or Catholicism happened every time they spoke, but getting schooled by a drunkard who believed in nothing was just embarrassing.

Ohya snorted in amusement. "Almost twelve percent of Tokyo's Catholic, you think I never had to check into it as part of prep work?" Her gaze shifted to the bartender. "I'll take my usual up in the booth."

A woman at the bar raised her empty glass. "Top me up, Lala-chan!"

"Coming up." She nudged at the transfer student. "Booth should be unlocked, go make sure it's cleaned up, m'kay?"

Akira nodded and let the reporter lead the way to her booth overlooking the dance floor converted to drinking tables, as well as offering a glimpse of the front door. Both of the armless chairs were on their sides and a sticky residue covered the table under the clutter of empty beer bottles. "I'll have to come back with a tray and wet rag."

Once he returned, she'd curled up on the one stuffed chair with arms in the little booth, tapping away on her laptop in a manner reminding him of Futaba. "That posture's bad for your back."

She sneered at him. "Boo! Sticky tables are bad for my laptop. And I'm behind on my Phantom Thief quota. Damn boss is going ballistic that I didn't have anything for Medjed. As if I was ever a tech writer!" She tapped away as he ripped bottles off whatever liquid they'd dried onto the table. "Does make me wonder if the Phantom Thief was just a blackmailing hacker all along."

Akira arranged the bottles on a serving tray, tried to wipe a table the cloth clung to, but stubborn scrubbing took off the spilled beer. Tosa Kotomi flashed in his mind and he felt his shoulders hunch. "A lot of Kaneshiro's underlings turned themselves in while his network was still strong. Even a master hacker wouldn't have been able to get to so many." Or push one to her death.

A single knock, then the door swung open and Lala stepped in, holding a tall glass of some orange liquid. "I'm going to charge KDDI next time they reserve a booth. Those animals never clean up after themselves." She set the glass down on the table, then took the tray. "A lot of people have been leaving, so if you want to take five or ten up here to catch up with Ichiko-chan, we'll be okay downstairs."

The reporter waved. "Oh, don't let me hold you up. Twenty-fourth at Inuri to ninth at Shujin is quite an achievement, especially for someone with a scrubbed class history until—" Her eyes snapped wide and she reached for her glass.

Akira stood from the table. "Until what?"

Ohya closed her hand on her glass, but the bartender cleared her throat. The reporter set the glass down and sat back with a slouch. "Researching particular things is part of my job, okay?"

Flat stares met her. After a beat, Lala planted a hand on her hip. "Are you digging into my workers again? How hypocritical is that when you're so interested in privacy that you reserve a booth almost every night?"

"Prostitution is one thing, but assault could cost you the bar!" Ohya shot back.

Akira felt a chill, and it wasn't from the air conditioning. He knew Yuuki wouldn't have betrayed his criminal record, which meant the reporter dug into his past on her own. He looked up at the bartender and swallowed. Maybe his brain was exhausted from trying to think of what to do about Hifumi, but he went blank when the only person offering him steady employment stood right there. Hell, even after graduation she might be the best offer he'd ever get.

Despite his expectation, Lala let out a sigh. "You think I didn't know he had a record? You should've seen how sullen he went when I asked for his information. I've only seen that on peeps with nowhere to go. The kid's done right by me the whole time I've known him. He wants a place to lay low and earn his keep. Some people just need a chance to be. You of all people should understand that."

Ohya swallowed a gulp of her drink and set it on the table. "I guess Junior wouldn't look up to you like he does if you weren't the reliable sort. It was pretty weird for somebody with a scrubbed history – plus the same for both parents – to have a record."

"My old man's the one with government connections," Akira spat. "I never wanted anything to do with him. But nothing I did could get out of his shadow until I stopped his sponsor from raping a woman on a side street. My old man chose that guy's money over my life."

Both women's eyes went wide. Ohya reached for her drink. "You're not shitting me, are you, kid?"

Akira let his hands dangle at his sides. "You can ask Mishima. He got the detailed version."

A heavy beat passed before Ohya took a long sip. "That explains why the case was so weird. Maybe you're not so different from Kayo-chan. They slandered her when she was about to bust open a public funds embezzling story."

Akira gave a bow of his head in commiseration. "I'm surprised they let her live."

The reporter stared into her drink. "They didn't."

The bartender adjusted her grip on the tray covered with empty beer bottles. "I'll go take care of your refill, Ichiko-chan. I don't approve of you rooting around in the kid's past without my asking, but if you're putting your cards on the table I'll leave it between you two. You're in the same boat as far as labels. Besides, you'll feel better without bottling up all that alcohol-fueled anxiety." She stepped out and closed the booth door behind her.

Akira sat down on one of the righted chairs next to Ohya's and let her drink for a while as he ruminated over what the bartender said. "You really think we're alike?"

Her breath smelled of something sweet and some kind of alcohol his mother didn't prefer, "I do. Lala-chan may collect strays like a mother hen, but she doesn't vouch for just anyone." She took a quick sip. "That's why I vowed to avenge my partner." Her eyes stared into the distance beyond the walls around them. "Murakami Kayo was the reliable one. I wanted information by any means necessary, but she… usually managed a legal way to get information. We blew so many scandals wide open."

"I wish I could say I had such a sterling past," Akira said when silence overtook them. "I ran away from the old man more times than I can count, got into stupid fights at school."

Ohya took another sip. "Careful, kiddo. I'm starting to think you're reading from my notes." She moved her laptop from the floor to the cleaned table and clutched her drink with both hands. "I was the ignored middle child. Acted out to get attention. Didn't find my calling until I got caught with a boy in the school bathroom my last year of high school. Head of the disciplinary committee assigned me to the school newspaper to keep me out of trouble, and my life's been all journalism ever since."

Akira tossed the by now just damp rag from hand to hand. "Trespassing in a school bathroom seems kind of a dumb thing for a school to get hung up on."

Ohya, halfway through another sip, almost snorted her drink. After several seconds of coughing, she set it down. After her laughing faded, she said, "Are you that innocent, kid? We were fucking."

The illusion of Hifumi shedding her kimono and offering him her body sprang to Akira's mind, and he found himself in a sudden coughing fit.

The intercom buzzed and Akira dove for the excuse. Lala spoke, "Sorry for cutting quality time short, but we need another hand clearing tables down here."

Even as his face burned, Akira exclaimed, "On the way!"

Tuesday, 23 August 2016
Noon
Bunkyou-ku, Many Landscapes Studio

Hifumi stepped into the dressing room, where three women and a man with a clipboard waited. She exchanged the minimum acceptable social script and sat down to stew in her melancholy. Mother's blood pressure remained high and her sleep fitful, but besides ennui she remained unresponsive. Papa's breathing had taken a turn for the worst and medics rushed him to ICR Clinical Research Hospital where initial tests came back negative. Unable to tell the doctor about changing Mother's heart, he convinced himself Mother must have an infection and moved Papa to a nearby clinic for isolation until she recovered. Without either Mother or Papa, her mind kept circling to her first kiss with Akira and her mood soured further. With Ann yet to arrive and the makeup team taking only a fraction of her concentration, she stared into the mirror.

As the surroundings faded into unimportant distance, the red garb of her inner self took the place of the shogi player's reflection. Without the detached concentration necessary to scan the Metaverse, the mask of the Berber queen stared into her with disapproval. "Have you so quickly decided to return to the path of surrender?"

"What am I supposed to do?" Hifumi snapped. "Mother is insensate, Papa is locked away in a clinic. Rei-san is as kind as one of Mother's employees can be but can't do anything to help me."

"And the handsome general who held you when you wept?"

Her sides and lips ached for a beat, but with the makeup team busy outside her mind-scape she couldn't wrap her own arms around herself for a pale imitation. Hifumi tisked. "He'll cushion the hearts of others, but never rest his heart in my hands." She sighed. "Maybe Mother was right and I was a fool for thinking someone so noble could ever want the rest of me. Boys like pure girls, not ones who flit from handsome face to handsome face."

Dihya's mask drew back for a beat. "The queen and her general lived to tell another day, such a rout does not a final defeat make."

Hifumi hung her head. "That's assuming I haven't driven him into the arms of that vivacious blonde. They have history and mutual attraction."

"You can not close your eyes to the truths you have seen," Dihya riposted. "When you confessed Mother's sins, he rallied his army. When you were lonely, he set his brothers and sisters in arms at your feet."

A woman on makeup repositioned her head, drawing Hifumi out of her inner dialog in time to see the door open. "Good day, Ann-san."

A heartbeat passed as her blue eyes flicked about the bustling room. The pigtailed blonde flashed a smile more brilliant than any the shogi player felt she could give. "Hey, Hifumi! Let's get out there and show the cameras who's boss!"

Tuesday, 23 August 2016
Evening
Bunkyou-ku, Many Landscapes Studio

Ann breathed out a sigh of relief when the wardrobe and makeup team finally unpinned the fake flower arrangement in her hair. She thought she had great endurance, but her agency was so much faster and less fussy. Wearing expensive kimonos sounded fun until they wouldn't even let her sit down, and even the stolid support of Hifumi didn't mitigate the exhausting slog. Trying to pep up the shogi maestra also took quite a bit out of her, but the dark-haired girl started to defrost by the end of their long session and that buoyed Ann too. Shame they'd been surrounded by workers until now so Ann couldn't ask about Phantom Thieving or get too personal. The blonde straightened her leggings. "Whew. Still, that was fun, huh, Hifumi?"

The other girl gave a weary smile. "Thank you for helping me through it, Ann-san. It was… the first time I enjoyed being in a studio." She hiked her skirt into place and clipped it on.

Ann handed the other girl's white undershirt, then slid her own on. Despite the polite nod something about her silence felt grating. Back in their street clothes, they stepped out of the changing room and headed for the front to sign out. "I couldn't really ask with all the crew around, but is everything okay? I appreciate the reports on your mother's health, but Akira's the closest thing we've got to a doctor and you two never seem to be on the group chat at the same time anymore." She thought back to Yusuke asking what happened 'the other day', which just led to Hifumi finishing her report and logging off chat. "Did something happen?"

Her pace mechanical, Hifumi spoke with the melancholic tone of a funeral, "I kissed him."

"Congra…" Ann started. When she heard others talking about things like that in the locker room, they were giddy. Wasn't kissing a big deal? Fun? She tugged at Hifumi's shoulder. "That's not a good thing?"

Stopping and grabbing Ann's hand with both of hers, Hifumi looked close to tears. "Oh, Ann, it was awful! It was like kissing a dead fish. He went cold!"

Ann stumbled. Akira was crazy about her, how could he screw that up? "Next time I see him, I'll smack some sense into that moron."

Hifumi sniffed, then reached into her purse for a tissue and dabbed at an eye. "Was any of it real?"

Ann clasped the shogi player's hand with hers. "Hifumi… surely you know even better—"

"Do I?" she snapped, the red string from her hair ornament jangling from her sudden turn. "He threw himself away. What is that, if not disgust? Fear? How can I have a boyfriend who's afraid of me?" She tugged her hand away and dabbed her tissue at the other eye. "It's even worse than if Akira-kun just has a broken bird fixation."

Ann opened her mouth, but closed it as a sense of chill – and not the pleasant kind – slid down her spine. Akira knew something was wrong at Shujin, day one. He knew she and Shiho were close, and picked up on Kamoshida. Did he know Shiho was on Kamoshida's list? The transfer student was very good at detecting abuse. He was the first to call Madarame and zero in on Yusuke. Was that the thing that drew him towards Shiho like a moth to the flame? That doctor-to-be detecting an untreated injury? He never made moves on Ann herself, but she also awakened to Carmen on the same day so it's not like she was vulnerable for long. Even Carmen was uncertain as to whether Akira's affection went further than attraction to classical beauty and a need to fix what was broken. "But… he likes the things you do."

That just seemed to bring more gloom down on the shogi maestra. "So did Saiichi, and he still left me."

Ann scowled. "If only Akira wasn't such a pig-headed, stupid—"

"Don't!" Hifumi snapped, then caught herself. Her shoulders drooped and she turned for the exit. "He's not even my boyfriend anymore and I still don't like hearing people talk down to him."

"Listen, I know he can make things awkward…"

Hifumi drew her hand from Ann's. "I spent my life burying my head to avoid unpleasant truths, but I left that behind when I awakened to Dihya. I can't close my eyes anymore. Not for Mother, not even for Akira. I always wanted a man who treasured me. But when I shared a close gesture, he was disgusted. As much as I'd like to know what's wrong with me, there's no point discussing it unless he's here," she pointed at the ground, "explaining it himself." She brought up a hand to massage her temple. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to check on Mother and Papa. Until Mother recovers, I have two bedridden parents, and I don't think I could stand losing more family."

Ann's phone buzzed, and that gave the shogi maestra pretense to leave. Growling, Ann checked her phone.

Yusuke's ID winked up at her. [Takamaki-san, I have a conundrum. I have finished Love is Fear, but can not decide upon my next painting. It is as if each alternative is at war with the others in my mind, and my heart is the battlefield which suffers their exchange.]

She had [Would you get serious and help with the REAL problems?] all typed out before she stopped. He didn't know what was going on with her newest friend. And it wasn't likely Akira was going to the artist to bare his heart. She deleted that and sent, [I can't relax while two of my closest friends are hurting. Could you do two things for me? I'll call Makoto, too.]

[For one of such heart? I would do three.]

Ann felt a twisty smile fight its way out of her frown.

Evening
Akihabara, Sizzling Bowl Restaurant

Ann slid into the booth next to Yusuke as kitchenware clattered past the serving counter several meters away. Some people thought to be left alone you had to find a place with no-one else, but Ann learned long ago the more people were around, the less likely anyone would care to pay attention to you. The crowds became her refuge, even if she sometimes wore a hat to avoid the occasional stare at her blonde hair. This yakitori dive fit the bill, being closed off enough to know who was listening in but big enough that everybody kept their own company. She looked to her class president. "Thanks for coming, Senpai. Did Yusuke get you up to speed?"

"We were comparing notes," the class president said. She detailed the Phantom Thieves finally breaking the truth to Doctor Takemi, as well as the doctor already suspecting they were up to something but thought that involved car batteries and yakuza freezers. The only thing that surprised Ann was Takemi trying to bring up safe sex with Akira, according to Morgana.

"I can't say I'm surprised he didn't take that well, I just wish I knew why." Ann drummed her fingers on the table. It didn't take a genius to notice the student president get fidgety. Wait, was she right earlier and he and her had a thing before he fell for Hifumi? "Makoto? How on Earth did you get Akira to spill to you?"

Makoto glanced to both sides, then leaned over the table. "Okay, but you have to promise to keep it a secret. You remember after that cognition of Sojiro shot Akira, and we found him near that thing he called a Sarcophagus?"

Yongen, Sakura Home, Futaba's Room

The open curtains allowed the lights of the evening city to leak in. Futaba pressed her headphones tighter as if that could help her extract more details from the unfolding conversation over the bug on Yusuke's phone. She couldn't say how Makoto's recounting of Akira's mother felt so familiar to her, but somehow it seemed like the second time she heard of it. "Hifumi's wrong. He wasn't disgusted with her, he's disgusted with himself. He thinks he's like his mother."

The hacker flopped onto her desk. "How'm I gonna get nieces and nephews at this rate?" As much fun as she liked having with all of the Phantom Thieves, there was something warm and safe about Akira. And there were sparks of that in Hifumi, who was just so nice it couldn't be real. Her bugs told her something happened the night Akira drove Hifumi away, but it wasn't until Ann enlisted Yusuke's support that she learned it was a kiss. Akira and 'Queen Togo' were so adorable, if they didn't get together she'd lose so much tease material!

And he wouldn't be happy. That would be bad, too.

"This would be so much easier if Akira just had a palace we could topple." Mom's research gave no indication a Palace and actualized inner self were incompatible, but Morgana insisted acceptance of a Persona did not allow the distortion necessary to have a Palace. The question was how to fix the rift between Akira and Hifumi. Why couldn't he be at all like any of the manga she'd read? Except for the harem crap where the boring designated protagonist refused to commit, a kiss sealed the deal! It wasn't supposed to break up the relationship when both had stars in their eyes!

She shot a quick text out to Mishima. It's not like she could focus on the Phansite, anyway.

She already hacked Akira's records from Shujin. His father went straight to a dead end, which did not surprise her. Some of the figures connected to Blue Cove were national cabinet appointees, maybe even intelligence. Wakaba herself had been scrubbed almost all the way back to university. But before marrying Houzan, Fumiko was subcontracted to a 'morale consultation agency'. Not the most creative way to hide call girls, but nothing else seemed interesting from digital records. It didn't take digging into bug recordings of his session with some counselor named Maruki to figure out Akira hated everything about his parents, but if his mother being a prostitute was enough to lock him out of sex, her dream of having little Akiras and Hifumis to keep her company in old age was doomed.

Her fist came down on her desk beside the keyboard. "No. A Sakura doesn't give up so easy!" There had to be a way to rekindle the romance and get him over it. She looked into hiring mercs to kidnap them and lock them in a closet filled with aphrodisiacs, but that could lead to unintended consequences and if anything happened to Hifumi, Akira would never forgive the hacker.

She would never in a million years tell anyone how much that scared her.

Futaba thumped her head on the wrist rest of her mousepad. Why were people so complicated?

Akihabara, Sizzling Bowl Restaurant

When the artist held the door open for them, Ann waited for the class president to leave first, then stepped through after, flashing a smile at the artist. Getting everyone on the same page and arguing about what to do – or if there was anything they could do, despite Ann's insistence – ate almost an hour.

"Ann-san!" Yusuke rushed to come back alongside her as they headed to the train station. "Thank you for the delicious meal. Though, if I may ask, you requested I help you with two things. What was the second?"

Ann glanced left and right, then pulled the artist into an alley leading to the back entrance of a few small businesses. Once they were far enough in to be out of concern of the thoroughfare but also stay out of sight of the business back entrances, she stopped with him so close she could see his eyelashes. She could feel the flush on her cheeks from what she was about to ask. "All this with Hifumi got me thinking again… what's the big deal? I hear girls at school talk about kissing, but I've never done it. I mean, besides Papa and Mama, but they don't count. You?"

Yusuke crossed his arms, his eyes darting back in tiny movements as he searched through his memory. "Back when there were a handful of students at the atelier, we would discuss at length everything from the meaning of life to the best way to extend shampoo. When Sensei was out, we would sometimes play truth or dare. My first experience was in one, where I kissed Saki-senpai. That was years before she eloped with someone outside the atelier. I since granted six girls a kiss in middle school, at their request." The corners of his mouth tugged down. "All were more interested in doing something with 'one of Madarame's' so I began turning down such requests since attending Kosei. If there is supposed to be something special about a kiss, it should be with someone with whom there is… magic, I suppose."

She straightened her skirt, finding it hard to meet his dark grey eyes all of the sudden. "Th-that makes sense." The urge to turn around and bail on this embarrassing situation prodded at her, only for Carmen to rise up in the back of her mind and remind her that a woman should not be afraid to take what she wanted, even if the world said sensuality was forbidden. She straightened, the fire in her heart rekindled. "Could we…?"

He rested his hands on her hips. "To kiss the most beautiful woman in the world would hardly be a burden, Ann-san."

She tilted her head up and he closed the distance. His lips were chapped, but his warm breath tickled her upper lip and a sense she could only describe as… electric passed between them. Despite his occasional awkwardness, once he committed he cast aside any nervousness he might have been feeling to hold her close with cautious, gentle pressure.

He pulled away with a smile and a dusting of pink on his own cheeks.

She let a beat pass, but there was something about his eyes, as if he was devoting every brain cell to soaking in every detail of the moment. She was still caught up in that charged sensation. "That was… nice. Akira and Hifumi don't get what they're missing. Wanna try another kind?"

His dark eyes gazed into hers. "If I possessed the whole world, I would give it all if you asked." Her arms slipped around him as his tightened on her and they leaned in.

Tuesday, 23 August 2016
Early Evening
Yongen, Leblanc

Akira's knife thudded in rapid succession through the bisected carrot on the cutting board. A piece jumped off and he stopped chopping, his other hand snatching for the carrot chunk before it could bounce to the floor.

Sojiro set a jar of coffee beans back on the shelf, but his eyes were on the transfer student. "That's always impressive to see. I'm not such a bad cook myself, but even when these bones weren't old I could never get that speed up."

"Amagi Inn could have upwards of fifty guests a night. This was 'keep up' speed to them," Akira explained. Before he could decide whether to go into the story of his first night trying to reach 'restaurant speed', his phone buzzed. His chest tightened from the prospect of trying to talk to Hifumi, but this was a bit early for her to post an update of her mother's biometrics.

The group chat buzzed, but Ryuji's ID sat on the top. [Hi, everyone! I figure we've all been sitting on our hands long enough. If we don't practice together, we'll get rusty.]

[Hifumi and I aren't done with the shoot,] Ann sent. [You can goof off on your own if you're bored.]

[I was thinking of us all practicing darts because it's been a while since we've done something as Phantom Thieves. But if you're going to be a bench, you can fork off.]

Yusuke, having logged in some time before, jumped in, [Takamaki-san is being responsible and fulfilling her obligations. If you can not accommodate the fact that we each have our schedules, then you are not entitled to her time.]

With Morgana still working on thieves' tools upstairs, Akira decided somebody had to play the peacemaker. [Emotions running too high can ruin otherwise good plans. Everyone calm down. If you're already doing something, that's that. There's a lot of us by now, it's okay if some of us are busy.]

Ann logged off, but after a few moments, Yusuke sent, [You are correct, Akira-kun. If it is well with you, I was hoping to speak to Ann-san about my artist's block.]

[There's been an incident with a few Shujin students in a store they weren't supposed to be in,] Makoto sent. [I'm still busy trying to smooth things over with the disciplinary committee.]

Three dots danced next to Ryuji's ID. [F. If everyone else is busy, you want to go play darts at Penguin Sniper? Morgana DID say the practice could help in the Metaverse.]

Akira hadn't considered that point. He'd talked to Father Sugiyama and Lala about Hifumi, but still wound up stewing about her as long as he couldn't talk to her, so some change of pace would help. [I'm almost done making salad for the week. You want me to bring Morgana?]

[I don't think he has the thumbs for darts, but up to you.]

Evening
Kichijoji, Penguin Sniper

Akira trotted up the steps, breathing a prayer of thanks for the air conditioning to batter away another day of high heat warning. It was so bad his weather app sent out a notice for the elderly to remain at home. After ascending the steps to the venue itself, he discovered Ryuji already paid for his fare. He paced to the dart board, still feeling the lingering effects of the blistering night outside. "Hey, Ryuji."

The runner missed his dart throw. "Fuck." By the time he turned around, he was back to smiles and bluster. "'Ey, you finally made it! Maybe this time we'll be able to zero out 501."

Akira let his gaze linger on the billiard tables, but the cover charge only allowed one event, not the whole floor.

Ryuji tapped the transfer student's arm with a fist. "Hey. I know 'xactly what you're thinkin' about. It's all right."

"You weren't there," Akira snapped. He forced out a long breath, then pulled up one of the tall stools for waiting dart team players and plopped on it. "I thought she was perfect. We were…" He held up his hands, if only in memory of how much he wanted to close his arms around her then, even though his limbs felt like sacks of wet cement and wouldn't respond at the time. "Then I fucked it up. Maybe forever."

The dart board beeped as Ryuji's last dart sailed into it. "Dude, I know what you're feelin'. You just hit your first runner's high. Well, love high, but it's the same. You never felt it before an' now you're on the crash after. But you're makin' it worse, tryin' to grab onto somethin' that's gonna come an' go… by tryin' to compare everythin' to that first time when there was nothin' in the world but you an' the wind. Er, you an' Hifumi. Think of it like breathin'. You gotta let that breath out or you're jus' gonna make yourself hurt more an' pass out." He retrieved the darts, then held them out. "So even if you don't wanna do anythin' else, you gotta make yourself. Or else you ain't gonna run again."

Akira stood and tossed his darts. Single twelve. Triple eighteen. Single five less than a centimeter from the triple twenty.

The track star gawked. "Daaamn, man. You were nailin' it without tryin' last time!"

Slipping his gloved hands into his pockets, Akira wished he was back at Leblanc so he could just go to bed. "Fits with the rest of my life."

Ryuji rubbed his forehead. "Holy shit, dude. And you guys get on my case about havin' a one-track mind."

"The woman I wanted to live the rest of my life with ran away," Akira snapped, hands sliding out and clenching. "And it happened four days ago. I was too scared to text her until Monday, and that prolly pissed her off because she won't answer my calls or texts." He ran a gloved hand through his hair. "I thought I finally figured out life and she was at the center of it."

Ryuji squared off against the transfer student. "So what good is obsessin' about it gonna do?" He glanced around and lowered his voice. "Dude, we've been inside peeps' hearts, that kinda thing is exactly what made them twisted. Why wouldn't I be worried about you? I don't want you to wind up like 'Taba!"

Despite his gloves and long sleeves, Akira felt a chill descend on him. "She… told you?"

Ryuji yanked out the darts and returned. "Uh… we were there. In her Palace. 'Cause she was so hung up on her ma, she wouldn't live her own life."

Akira let out a breath. His attempted suicide remained secret.

Ryuji transferred the darts into one hand and held up the emptied one. "And I say that as a dude whose only family is Ma." The hand lowered and he let out a heavy breath. "I'll be honest, if Ma got hit by a bus or somethin' tomorrow, it would crush me. But… if I did nothing but think of her, it would be spittin' on all the hard work she's done tryin' to give me a future an' teach me to be a man." He tapped the empty fist against the transfer student's chest. "And I'mma be honest, I wouldn't be able to say that if it weren't for all of you. Yeah, even you. You saved a chick from a drunk even more messed-up than my old man. An' she betrayed you. But even with a record, even gettin' kicked outta the town you grew up in, you didn't lay down an' give up. You said 'fuck you' to everyone who wanted you to give up. You stood up to Kamoshida. So don't you fuckin' tell me life's too hard after all the baddies we've beaten an' all the peeps who got your back. Pull your head outta your ass and watch me school you in darts!"

Ryuji turned around and threw.

It would have been magnificent if the dart didn't hit the single five. So close to the bull.

Ryuji grit his teeth and tried again, his second shot going wide again, but his third landing in the bull. He stepped in, retrieved the darts, and handed them to Akira.

He wanted to be angry with the track star, but the small mention about his mother brought him short. He was a man of the here and now, and treasured his mother in a way Akira still couldn't quite wrap his head all the way around. If the runner could even contemplate that, it meant he was thinking way outside his usual zone. Akira took the darts and threw. He didn't hit the triple twenty once, but it didn't feel as pointless even if that game ended.

The atmosphere between them changed, but Ryuji seemed content to fill the void. He reset the lane and chatted about shoes and hydration and stretching as they settled into another game.

As they settled into the next and Akira's throwing still hadn't gotten more accurate, Ryuji paused. "Listen, I know those sexy times can be… not out of body, what's the word… where everything but one thing fades away? For me, that's runnin'. The city, the street, all of it goes away an' I become one with the wind. You ever have that when runnin'? I know I talked 'bout it, but you never have."

"Psychologists call it 'flow'," Akira said. He raised a dart and aimed. "I've had it. The old bastard tore up Discourse on Inequality. I didn't even have the release of school, so I ripped a slat out of the bookshelf and tried to club him. He called for help and I took off. I felt like an escape artist in one of those old war movies, ducking orderlies and sliding under a weak point under the chain-link fence. The sun was sinking behind the mountains, but I didn't care. I took off over the rocks and… everything fell away. Their yelling, the hills, everything." He threw, and the dart landed on the inner twenty.

It wasn't the triple, but it was the first time he'd thought about that feeling of being free in years.

Another dart, another single twenty.

"I don't know if I even felt like that with Hifumi," Akira confessed, raising his last dart. "You think that's proof we were never gonna click?"

"Hard to say," Ryuji said as he came back with the darts. Looks like this game was going to be up to his throwing again. "All the times I made out with chicks were either post-meet or post-practice, so it was kinda' ridin' from one high to another." He continued as he threw, "There's plenty of fish in the sea, 'specially for broodin' hero types like you." The last dart landed, zeroing the game, and he threw his fists in the air.

While the runner retrieved darts, Akira hunched on his high stool. "Ryuji, girls go for good guys. And I'm… not. My grades aren't even always good. I'm not reliable. I've got no real family. I don't get simple things that everyone else just cruises through. Makoto's said more than once that she'd like to strangle me because I keep making dumb jokes and won't take things seriously, and I've even tried to stop."

Ryuji stopped at the line. "Keep in mind that's comin' from Miss Model Student. She can't laugh much with a stick up her ass."

Akira adjusted his glasses. "She's not entirely wrong. I want to be mister nice guy, but even I know I'm still a jerk to plenty of people."

"Some people are jerks. You're the kind of guy who can't help but return to sender." He turned to the board. "And that's pretty awesome when you're givin' back positive vibes, even when the whole school ain't."

"I don't even know how far my temper's gonna take me until after somebody's got a black eye." His gaze fell to the floor. "Hell, there were a couple times were I almost punched out Ann. And she's one of the nicest people I know."

"Eh," Ryuji said, before letting a dart fly. "She's way overbearing. The tits an' ass I totally get, but I dunno why Morgana still thinks she's the best thing ever."

Akira took off his glasses to wipe the lenses. "What about a future? How likely is it that any college I apply to isn't going to dig up my high school record? A job? I doubt I can support Hifumi on a bar job."

Ryuji tossed his last dart and grunted. "First, we're still in high school. We ain't tryin' to buy houses or nothin'. There's tons of girls in Japan. If Hifumi's the one you wanna hook up with for life, then effin' go after her an' don't back down. I've seen you stare down Shadows. You served your lifetime quota of shit. In case I wasn't clear before, fuck what the world thinks. We earned a shot at good things in our lives." The runner retrieved the darts and handed them over.

Akira gave a nod, and it didn't feel forced this time. Next time he saw Hifumi, he'd tell her why he was afraid.

His next throw hit a millimeter from the triple twenty.

AN: While training can eclipse the innate differences between men and women, studies of blood oxygen and lactate concentrations indicate consistent advantages in male athletes versus female athletes, accounting for similar conditions. The study I reviewed while writing this chapter was a 2007 study of badminton players. Yoshizawa, being a gymnast aiming at or near Olympic-level competition, would be aware of this, but might not be aware Akira's hurting himself trying to keep up with her.