Persona 5: Daywatch
Sunday, 4 September 2016
Late Afternoon
Akihabara, Electric Town
Mishima peered around the edge of a model-maker's fanzine, keeping part-covered by a rack of cheap figurines without looking like he wanted to avoid notice. The transfer student stood half a meter away, back to a set of shelves with more shoddy electronic merchandise of some Macross knockoff, but his phone was too far and at the wrong angle for pretending he was texting. Another two boys came from the other side of the counter with plastic-packaged figurines. A man in a wrinkled, button-down beige shirt followed them. Their conversation sounded innocuous, full of the scripted pleasantries in sales.
She brought out a Samsung with an attached card reader.
Both boys tensed.
She swiped, held it out for the guy to confirm the order, then smiled and waved as the legitimate customers left.
It looked like a legitimate transaction, but the Phansite user who claimed his credit card was cloned in Electric Town couldn't narrow it down any further. Sakura-san traced it to a dark-web site selling credit card information in small batches, but couldn't follow it further without more activity from the point of capture. How she was able to get that far, he didn't know, but maybe it would be best not to. The police claimed they couldn't act unless Mishima was a direct victim and had evidence a specific person was behind it. He'd been scoping out Electric Town for two weeks, but made little progress trying to do it alone. Akira's subtle slight-of-hand and Sakura-san's computer prowess checked off half a dozen locations in just a few hours. Even Sakamoto-san came to help, though he separated a few minutes ago.
Akira paced to the figurine shelves past the class representative and whispered, "You want front or back?"
Sakamoto-san excelled at being loud and holding attention. Akira could do anything, from shadowing to pick-pocketing to talking people in circles as Mishima crawled behind counters to check smart phone models. If the steel-eyed boy wanted to be a thief in real life, he'd be spectacular. Of course, they'd eliminated half a dozen stores and young women clerks, and the possibility of his personal information getting sold on the dark-web grew stronger with each one they cleared.
"Back."
Akira reached for the shelf of Macross knock-offs and grabbed a purple mecha standing six centimeters tall. He approached the clerk and started complaining in a thick west coast accent about the selection.
Crawling, Mishima slipped behind the young woman's feet. Her smart phone and its attached card reader sat on a shelf beneath a meager 'counter', more a shelf of batteries and binders with plastic panels covering three sides. She stood so close there was no way he could slip a hand past her knees to the Samsung. And for a moment he thought they had a break when Sakura-san was able to identify the make of the phone cloning people's credit cards.
That dim pall of uselessness threatened, but this time he was able to push it away. He hadn't made things up to Shiho, but she'd never have gone out with him in the first place if he was useless. He couldn't let both her and himself down by wallowing in misery. He pulled out his own iPhone and sent Sakura-san a text. He didn't know how her bug worked, just that his phone had to be close to another to copy. She sent a ready and he held out his phone like a geiger counter at a piece of radioactive debris.
A progress bar snapped onto the bottom of his screen, but the clerk's phone lit up in kind. Mishima froze, his breath fleeing his body.
About five percent.
Akira shouted something that could have been Korean for all the representative could understand it. The clerk, apparently having the same trouble, shouted back.
About fifteen percent.
Mishima's heart hammered in his chest.
Just a sliver under twenty-five percent.
The clerk reached down and Mishima shrank in on himself, trying both to gesture in helplessness at Akira while at the same time keep from being seen by the clerk.
Akira lifted the figurine into her face, then pointed down the street, jabbering too quickly in that west-coast accent for the representative to have a hope of following.
The clerk seemed less encumbered and jabbed a finger into the transfer student's chest.
About forty percent.
The clerk slammed her palms down on the top of the counter.
About fifty-five percent.
Akira marched around in a circle and barked something sarcastic.
Just above sixty percent.
She reached down for her phone.
Mishima made a desperate gesture with his one free hand to try to get Akira to keep her attention.
Almost seventy percent.
Akira slapped a revolving cylinder rack of postcards, knocking it into a wild spin.
The clerk grabbed the cylinder to stop its spin.
About seventy-five percent.
A few postcards came loose and tumbled down.
Eighty-five percent.
One landed flat on Mishima's head.
About ninety percent.
She reached down after it
Ninety-nine percent.
Her hand closed on the corner.
The progress bar disappeared.
Mishima shuffled back, grabbing for the postcard her fingers closed on.
She turned and looked down at him, caught in a low crouch.
His mouth went dry and a chill seeped into his body despite the summer heat. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. He closed it and opened it again and pushed the postcard into her hand. "Here. Can you believe that guy?"
She scoffed. "Out-of-province tourists are the worst."
Akira slammed down an unfamiliar credit card and said still in his thick west-coast accent, "Then here."
She fumbled to snatch the card off the counter's flat surface, swiped it through her card reader improperly once, then paused and slid it through at a steady speed and it beeped. She skipped the step of giving the customer the chance to confirm the purchase and authorized it herself, then threw Akira's credit card back in his face. He took it and stormed away with the figurine.
Mishima pulled out some coins and bought a pack of batteries, then departed another way.
His phone buzzed, Sakamoto with, [Hey, I found another vendor with a Samsung. It's a good thing the girl ripping off credit card numbers isn't using an iPhone, right?]
Futaba texted, [No need. I just got a hit. Also, you'll want to cancel your card, Akira. It's Hayashibara Mariko.]
Sakamoto sent, [Morgana: you ready?]
Three dots bounced next to Akira's ID. [I'm all set to go.]
[I just got to Shiho's clinic, I can't leave now,] Ann replied.
[I have homework,] Makoto sent. [Second years may get a few days off for the class trip, but I have cram school and three exams next week. It's going to be hard enough keeping an afternoon or two open to go with you to the tower.]
Yusuke's ID lit up. [The show will be starting in just a few minutes, and the train transfers would take half an hour. I thought today was a rest from the Metaverse?]
Futaba followed up, [Yeah, that's what I thought. I'm a little far away from Akihabara.]
[Her Shadow's in Mementos,] Sakamoto texted. [We don't need the whole crew. Between Akira, me, and Mona Lisa we should be good.] A beat later he sent, [Mona Lisa.] A beat later he sent, [Damn autocorrect, I mean Morgana.]
Mishima typed away. [Anything I can do?]
[You narrowed down the identity of a fraudster,] Akira sent. [How long have you been working on this request?]
[Two weeks.]
[Dude,] Sakamoto texted, [Go get some ice cream and chill out in the maid cafe. It's a team effort. You got us this far, we'll take it from here.]
Evening
Akihabara, 1000 Pages Manga Cafe
Mishima scrolled down the page on scented candles extolling the smells of Hawaii. The day felt bittersweet, with the Phantom Thieves – dare he think other Phantom Thieves? – swooped in to take care of a woman stealing credit cards and personal information from hundreds, leaving him to wait. He knew he shouldn't feel disappointed. They went after yakuza and stalkers without batting an eye. He still felt a tremor of fear at raised voices.
His phone buzzed on the desk next to the keyboard. The group chat lit up with the crowing of success at an easy change of heart. He noticed Ann and Togo's IDs still remained dark, but the others offered congratulations.
[Another dirt-bag's heart, another celebratory dinner!] Sakamoto texted.
[I thought you said it was a cake walk?] Makoto texted. [I haven't even finished my law essay.]
[I look forward to sampling your offerings,] Kitagawa texted.
[Come on, dude! You weren't even there today. You've been freeloading off us all summer.] A few seconds later, Sakamoto sent. [Peace out.]
Three dots winked in next to Akira's ID. [Fine. Ryuji's out for dinner with fam. I'm up for some grub before going back to the crash pad. Anybody near Electric Town?]
A chorus of negatives passed through the active members of the Phantom Thief group chat. The class representative took in a deep breath and let it out. He felt tired and wouldn't mind going home, but his parents wouldn't care if he came in late again. They never took notice when he came home with bruises. Akira, Ann, and Shiho were the only people who did. There was something haunted deep behind Akira's eyes while they were scoping out Electric Town. It reminded him of when he thought he could take away the pain by burning himself out.
Maybe this could be an opportunity to pay the transfer student back. [I'm still in Akihabara. You like eel?]
Late Evening
Akihabara, Iron Bucket Seafood
Mishima swallowed his bite of white fish, looking over the transfer student for those little tells Ohya had been teaching him about. People from businessmen to utility workers with their jumpsuits tied around their waist bustled around, generating a pleasant white noise. It lent a sense of privacy while still in a safe, public setting. Ohya would be proud, if she wasn't resolute about drinking.
Akira tensed each time feet hit the floor nearby. Despite how good his grilled eel smelled, he picked at it, eating with no enthusiasm. A thunderstorm brewed in the orbs behind his glasses. The tired way he forced himself through the motions reminded the representative of himself mere weeks ago.
"What happened?" Mishima looked over the transfer student.
The tuxedo cat shot a sly look up at Akira and meowed.
"Oh, shut up." Akira scowled at the team leader.
"I just thought…" Mishima ventured, "That after all you've done for me, I really should help you. I mean, I've been doing investigations, but even those were about me. Dodging fixing things with Shiho." He picked up another bite of fish, surprised he could still enjoy its buttery taste.
Contrary to the representative's expectations, Akira shrank in on himself a little at the mention of Shiho. Odd, mentioning her always lit a bit of that spark of fire behind those grey eyes. He took his glass of melted ice. "Have you talked to Shiho?"
Now Mishima averted his eyes and his appetite ebbed. "She won't receive my calls, and I'm not sure how angry her parents might still be so I haven't gone to her flat. After they found out about the jump, her mother called and blamed me. After Kamoshida's confession, I tried calling again and her mother picked up. Still blamed me." He huffed. "I have this strange sense we talked about this, but can't remember quite where we talked about it, but Shiho w—is an amazing person. Nothing I can do can undo what happened."
"And if you can't fix what you broke? How do you go on?" Akira murmured. "What for?"
"The same reason why I kept going before I met Shiho," Mishima said. "We don't know what the future can bring. Before Shiho, I thought I was a zero. That I could never amount to anything. Then I met the best girl in the world. I may never come across another Shiho, but even after…" The image of her beautiful body, splayed on the courtyard with her arm bent wrong, flashed in his mind. Mishima forced himself to straighten. "But you introduced me to that reporter, and I feel like I'm going from an amateur who did a school paper just to avoid the people who didn't like me, to maybe eventually being a real investigative journalist. Ohya's the one teaching me that, but you are the one who opened that opportunity."
Morgana meowed and Mishima wondered if he imagined the pity and concern in it.
"Then what about next time?" Akira snapped at the tuxedo cat. He jammed his chopsticks into the eel on a bed of rice. "The thing I want the least is to hurt her, but that's what keeps happening. It's what I keep doing." He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Why can't it just be simple? A clean break we can both walk away from?"
"Her?" Mishima thought through everything he'd seen in the group chat. "Ah. You mean Togo-san? Did something happen?"
Akira glanced to the bag on the seat beside him. "You think it would be okay to talk about our Mementos aside with him?"
The ears twisted one way, then another as the tuxedo cat's eyes zoned out in thought. Then he meowed.
"Yes," Akira said, slumping back on his seat. His gaze flicked to the class representative, but didn't quite meet eyes. "Remember the day you collapsed at school?"
Mishima nodded. "Yeah. I was rotten to you and President Niijima. Things after that were a little fuzzy, but I had some time to think and had some unpleasant realizations about where I was going." He traced his finger through the condensation outside his glass. "I wasn't making things right with Shiho, and I was just making things between me and all of you more wrong. I probably would've tried using you guys to go after people I didn't like."
Morgana meowed, his ears upright and attentive.
"Right," Akira said in terse tone, re-focusing on the class representative. "Well, you were… obsessive. It was hurting you and hurting us. Ann, Ryuji, even Makoto-san was worried about you. So we went to Mementos to talk to your Shadow."
Mishima blinked. He'd been a supporter of the Phantom Thieves for over a hundred changes of heart by now. A small corner of his mind wondered how they could change his heart, felt a little violated at the thought, but the rest couldn't help but notice the Phantom Thieves found it necessary to come after him. He'd gotten that bad?
"You were self-destructive and hadn't considered where the follow-through was leading," Akira explained. "All we had to do was explain where your course of life was going and what it was doing to us – your friends. Thing is, your Shadow said some stuff I wish it hadn't."
It took a great deal of willpower just to breathe. "As sick as some of the people you went after were, what did my Shadow say?"
A corner of Akira's mouth quirked up for a beat. "You weren't nearly as far gone as most people, Mishima-san. You spilled that I'd cut my wrists. And… said I was in love with Shiho."
Mishima's breath halted. As if reality hadn't been cruel enough to him, somebody witty and funny swooping in to take Shiho away? By somebody who'd done more for him than his own family?
Setting his glasses down on the table with one hand, Akira pressed the palm of his other against an eye. "I never even thought… No, if I'm being honest, I avoided thinking about it. I came into Tokyo with my old man's boot print still on my ass and my mother's condemnation ringing in my ears. People were treating me like a leper, and then Shiho…"
The transfer student's circumstances may have been different, but struck a chord with Mishima. "Kind, beautiful, graceful. She made Shujin bearable. If anyone blames you for liking her, they're crazy."
"Hifumi blames me. Because I should like her." Akira rubbed his eyes and let out a long breath.
Mishima stared. "You're really going out with the Venus of Shogi?" He set his chopsticks down. "Wow. It's just so hard to believe. She's rich, famous, and beautiful."
Akira's face twisted as if he bit a lemon. "That makes it sound even more like I'm just one of the thousands of shallow perverts chasing a trophy. She's not really rich, and with her mom in custody she doesn't even know if she can afford payment for her father's medical care. Her mom was the one pushing her into fame she never wanted and it just meant stalkers everywhere she went." He sat back, his brow furrowed and shoulders hunched. "And she was right when she said I shouldn't be thinking of other girls if I love her. But I still think of Shiho."
It had been a while since Mishima saw somebody look so miserable. "Did I ever tell you about Akiyama-kun?"
"No." Akira picked up his glasses but stopped halfway as if some answer was written on the frame.
"He was a classmate in middle school. He's not at Shujin, couldn't make tuition or grades," Mishima explained. "Fell in love his second year with Himawari – basically the school idol. She cheated on him with at least a dozen other guys and he took it hard. In his third year, he fell in love with Kira. I guarantee you he still thought of Himawari-chan. You never forget your first love. But that doesn't mean you can't fall in love in an even more meaningful way with someone else."
Monday, 5 September 2016
Noon
Shujin, Class 1-B
Yoshizawa Kasumi hefted her lunch box and pondered where she wanted to eat. The classroom was out – none of its tables were big enough to eat on, unless she wanted to use several other people's desks. Too many already called her entitled, so that was out. The cafeteria had bigger tables, but the number of people who dashed out as soon as the bell rang made her think it would be packed and she didn't feel like she could take the gawking or venomous rumors of entitlement so soon before she had to leave for her training trip to Hawaii. Maybe the roof would be open again?
Decision made, she thanked fortune first-years were already on the third floor and slipped onto the academic building's roof. Pulling a couple desks together, she set down her lunch and unwrapped the box. First course, steamed buns with popcorn shrimp filling.
Before she could start on the second course, the roof door swung open.
"Senpai!" she cheered when he stepped out with a sharp squint and bread in hand. She knew he had sharp senses, but a couple full seconds passed and even after his eyes should have adjusted, he hadn't responded. His gaze seemed far away. "Are you okay?"
He paced out with shorter stride than she expected. "That's a harder question to answer some days than others."
She unwrapped her second course, pork belly and pickled mustard greens. She felt famished, but couldn't ignore somebody who helped her so much. That tiny bun wouldn't be enough to keep anybody going until end-of-day. "Here, eat up, Senpai. You've got to keep up your energy if you want to get your daily sets in."
A cute little tuxedo cat hopped out of his satchel and to one of the spare desks sitting out on the roof beside the plants. He gave a plaintive meow.
He plopped into a chair and snapped, "I know!"
She flinched, a momentary tremble passing through her heart.
"Sorry, I've had a lot to think about. What I should do, what I shouldn't." He dragged a hand back through his dark, fluffy hair. She swallowed at the sudden tightness in her throat and wondered what it would feel like to run her hands through that hair. After a beat, he looked up at her and the offered bento box. Akira blinked. "Kasu—sorry, Yoshizawa-san, that's… almost a full dinner."
Disappointed that he still couldn't use her name, she looked down and realized her fingers were clenching so hard they crushed the paper sides. "Oh! Sorry, Senpai! Here, you can have my last course."
His eyes widened. "You have more?"
Setting the damaged paper tray aside, she handed him the pork sausage, pickled lotus root, and hacked-up green onion. "Here, Senpai. This doesn't even begin to repay you for all you've done to help me."
Akira took it, thanked her, then set it down and folded his hands above it for a silent moment. He pulled a little plastic baggie with a pair of wood chopsticks inside, but instead of taking them out, he stared down into the bento. "Yoshizawa-san? Have you ever had a friend? No, not just some friend, someone you trusted and cared for more than your own life? And then—" he snapped his fingers, "—she's gone, and you're too floored to understand how you screwed it up?"
Kasumi's heart wrenched in her chest. "My sister."
Confusion filled her head as it felt like a weight lifted from her.
At the same time as a baffling relief filled her, shame colored Akira's cheeks in an adorable red. "I'm sorry, Kasumi-san."
She felt warmth bloom in her stomach and go all the way to her cheeks, not only at the commiseration, but somebody looking at her and using her name. Before she could contemplate whether it was a good idea or not, she asked, "Who did you lose, Senpai?"
His pretty steel gaze stared a thousand kilometers away and he chewed for a few beats. "Hifumi. She snapped at me and I yelled at her and then neither of us could stop and… it's over before I realized what I had." He sniffed and set the bento aside to yank out a handkerchief and blow into it, but not in time to hide a glint or two slip down from his eyes.
The pathetic visage on somebody so strong and brave tugged at her heart. Part of her felt like folding in half at seeing him hurt, but another leaped in excitement at the opportunity to have him in her corner again. "I'm sorry, Senpai." She set a hand on his sleeve. "You do so much for others… I… somebody should be there for you."
Akira's hands made rote motions from tray to mouth. After a few moments he asked, "What exactly happened to your sister? If you don't mind me asking."
Flashes of rain, umbrellas, and a car sliding on wet pavement flickered in her mind. Kasumi swallowed hard. "It's…" She forced a smile. She was Kasumi after all, ever cheerful and never defeated. "It's nothing. I'm worried about you, Senpai. You've done so much to help me…" She straightened and that smile took on more of her face. "Let's do something after school, Senpai! Getting into shape requires plenty of energy and nutrition, so this should put us right where we need to be for a hearty session after school."
Akira swallowed hard and squirmed on his seat. "I, uh… made promises for after school today."
For the second time in the day she felt slapped by the outside world. It wasn't fair to be angry at him, though, so Kasumi forced her smile back on. What was she thinking, that he saved her from one creep in station square that he'd always be there? Her stomach trembled. "O-oh. Of course, how rude of me to try to call your day without knowing if you were free."
Akira waved his hand as best he could while still holding his chopsticks. "Ease up, Yoshizawa. I wasn't aware you had a sister or something happened to her, and you didn't know I already had plans. I'm just… trying to prepare…"
The red-head nodded, ponytail bouncing. "Oh, right. Juniors are going on the class trip some time this week." She forced her smile, because Kasumi never let anything defeat her. Despite her courage and decorum, her mouth ran ahead of her brain, "M-maybe after?"
"Count on it," Akira said before he dug back into her store-bought bento and she felt the butterflies in her stomach again. "Heck, I should thank you. I was supposed to make lunch for the week yesterday, but… things happened and I couldn't get it done." He huffed with a smile on his face. "You should've heard the disappointment in Yusuke's voice."
With the tension bleeding away, Kasumi gave a nod and her smile felt less forced. "Well, let's both try our best, Senpai! I'll always be there for you. I've been thinking about making lunch for myself. Maybe we should both make something and have a swap to critique each other's cooking?"
He gave a thumb up and they both dug into their meals for what little time was left of lunch.
Monday, 5 September 2016
After School
Velvet Room
Akira grasped the bars of his cell door hard, but knew a wicked smile grew across his face as the twins released Thoth. As his Persona formed near the center of the panopticon, he felt its strength as it reconnected to him. The Egyptian god of wisdom and writing held up his book, the rest of the panopticon fading for a beat, a mote of light like a droplet of water flickered into existence and fell. When it hit the ground it exploded with a sudden, piercing shockwave blasting him onto his back. The twins and Igor seemed not to notice what might have been a demonstration in a momentary pocket dimension, but Akira remembered the first Thoth hitting the Phantom Thieves with that destructive ability. "Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about."
Caroline rolled her eyes. "Did you expect anything different from us?"
Justine gave a nod, sedate as always. "You did complete our request. Master has informed us you also fused your power into yet another Persona user, which was going to be our next request. Well done on your proactive tackling of these tasks towards your rehabilitation."
Caroline tapped her baton on her shoulder. "But we're not just gonna give you these amazing boons."
Akira rolled his eyes. "Perish the thought."
"No backtalk, Inmate!" Caroline cracked her baton across the bars, sparks zipping between them.
Holding his hands up, he flicked the fingers of both hands towards himself. "Come in here and say that."
Another baton-crack against his bars. "Why don't you come out here?"
Akira blinked and spread out his arms, wondering if she missed the striped prisoner garb.
Justine began speaking before the other finished grinding her teeth, "Your progress may be commendable, but your charge is to change mankind. You can not rest on your laurels."
Caroline looked over the prisoner. "So that's three Personas collected and two deposited. Who are you going to leave last?"
Akira calculated for a brief moment. "Ananta Shesha."
The celestial-skinned, many-headed serpent coalesced between the twins, its movements twitchy like an agitated snake.
Caroline gave a serious nod. "Of course. Your relationship with the holder is reversed. Any attempt to use an associated Persona would result in backlash."
"Wait…" Akira gripped the bars. "Like going berserk, healing Shadows, and hurting my friends?"
Justine nodded, somehow exuding the aura of a teacher who'd explained something ten times and just wanted to move on. "Yes. You attempted to use a Persona stronger than its associated bond, and a power you have locked from your own heart. Either alone is dangerous, both together caused your heart to recoil against what your mind had never grasped."
His breath came shorter and for a beat he was glad the iron bars were there to stop him from throttling the two obnoxious wanna-be-wardens. He bellowed, "You couldn't have fucking told me before my friends got hurt?"
Caroline brayed back with equal fervor, "We're your collaborators, not your nurses to hold your hand all through life! This is your rehabilitation, Inmate!"
"What's this noise?" Igor asked from his desk.
The twins both snapped around in a hurry and bowed. "Apologies," Justine said with an uncharacteristic tremble in her voice.
Hands clenching on the bars, Akira shouted, "Were you part of this, too? Holding back crucial information so my friends would get hurt? What happened to helping me stop the ruin of mankind?"
The motion looked as small as Igor slapping one hand to the desk, but it thundered across the prison so loud that faint impression of sedate music vanished for a moment. Gravity itself seemed to turn up a dozen notches. Then Igor's grin returned and whatever heavy impression weighed down the space passed. "It would do your rehabilitation no good to try to force epiphanies down your throat your mind is not open to digesting. And any game has rules."
To the prisoner's surprise, the twins seemed just as shaken as he'd been. Caroline opened her mouth, closed it, then barked, "Shall we discipline the inmate?"
A chuckle rumbled out. "A rebel will chafe against any chain. But he has not yet proven mankind's indolence can be overcome. Do not keep me waiting too long, Trickster." The smile faded a little and he spoke to the twins, "Your charge remains. Oversee the inmate's rehabilitation."
Caroline spun around with surprising speed, her baton cracking across the bars and shooting a charge through them which spiked into the prisoner's hands. "You have the boon of our beating techniques into your Personas, as you already saw with Thoth. But you'll have to earn the next benefit I've got in store for you." She stood back, proud as if she'd accomplished something more than emitting hot air.
Justine read through the list, turned a page, and read some more. "You are swiftly catching up, Inmate. Bring us a Matador which can enfeeble your enemies and we shall allow you to leave an additional Persona at a time. Then, we shall give you the last test before your next major boon." A shadow of a smile ghosted over her lips. "Are you prepared to begin?"
"Actually," Akira rubbed the back of his neck, "I only stopped in to see if I could get something to help the team. We're infiltrating a target palace today. I don't think I have time to spare ripping apart a bunch of Personas to make your next Frankenstein's monster. I'll have to catch you later."
Caroline scoffed, but that maybe-there smile remained on Justine's lips as she gave a single nod.