Chapter Text
No one said that managing a website alone would be easy, let alone one dedicated to The Phantom Thieves of Hearts. Yet, Yuuki Mishima was surprisingly okay with running the Phantom Aficionado website. Not only a website for those suffering in silence needing a safe space, it was also designed to help the Phantom Thieves change the hearts of corrupt individuals, however they do it.
Sitting at a diner in Shibuya’s Central Street, Mishima sat in one of the booths with his laptop open, scrolling through the comments on the Phan-Site while sipping on the hot coffee he had ordered. For the most part, he just left the comments alone; ones where users would complain about their daily lives. But sometimes, he would notice a comment that was reaching out for help. In this case, an abuse of power in a workplace.
“This doesn’t look good…” Mishima muttered to himself. “I don’t see a name of the person either…”
Taking another sip at his coffee, Mishima pondered whether he should relay the information to the leader of the Phantom Thieves. After a while, the navy-blue-haired teen whipped out his phone and began texting.
August 2, 2016
Mishima: Man, this is crazy.
Mishima: I can’t keep up with this constant influx of posts.
Mishima: Isn’t it tough being popular, Phantom Thieves of Hearts?
Mishima: Anyway, here’s the interest lead I have.
Mishima: This one has been about… someone abusing their power?
Mishima: I wonder if it was written by a former employee of the company in question.
Mishima: Apparently one of the higher-ups has been claiming the achievements of his subordinates as his own.
Mishima: That really sucks.
Akira: That’s some business sense
Mishima: You can’t seriously just be accepting of that!
Mishima: Now, I know the name of the company, but I don’t have the name of the person himself.
Mishima: The company’s over in Shinjuku, so try asking around places where businessmen could hang out.
Mishima: A bar at night might be a start. That should be a good place to get more info on this situation.
Mishima: I hope this isn’t asking too much of you… Sorry, I’ll look for another one, just in case.
Mishima put his phone away, stretching. He put his laptop away, deciding to take a break from managing the site and study instead. Even though it was the summer, he didn’t want to fall behind in his studies. Ordering a nostalgic steak, Mishima pulled his schoolbooks out and started to study.
When the spiky-haired teen decided to stop studying and exit the diner, evening had set in. Stretching, he walked down Central Street in the direction of Station Square, to catch the train to Shinjuku. Mishima had wondered why he felt the need to hang around there at night and not in Central Street like he had done during May and June, but he instead opted not to question it. Mishima walked into Station Square, passing by a news reporter and a cameraman.
“...it will be a mementos occasion for all those living in the Shibuya area.” Mishima overheard the reporter.
“Did she mean ‘momentous occasion?’ ” Mishima muttered to himself. Yawning, he shrugged it off and headed down the stairs to the subway.
Wait. He thought to himself, asking. Why am I headed downstairs; to the Yongen line? The train to Shinjuku is above ground…
By the time he realized, Mishima’s attention was focused on the surrounding area. The platform sure looks like it’s for the subway, but the surrounding area was… unsettling, to say the least.
“...Where am I?” Mishima asked, confusion and panic mixed together. Not knowing how to get out, he walked forward into the unknown.
Everywhere he went, MIshima was greeted to a twisted imagery of what should’ve been the Tokyo Subway, seeing what looked like people walking into train cars that were heading in the same direction as him. What creeped him out the most, though, was what looked like veins scattered around the ceiling of this place.
“H-Hello?” Mishima stuttered, calling out into the silence. “I-is anyo-one t-there?!” Hearing nothing, he stopped walking and started talking to himself.
“This can’t be real…” He put a hand on his head. “I mean, first, I’m in Station Square, but now, I’m in a bizarrely unsettling place. Could this be a dream? One that was a result of working too hard on the Phan-Site and my studies?” Just then, a lightbulb went off in Mishima’s head. “That’s it! Maybe I’m just having one of those fever-induced lucid dreams caused by overworking myself!”
Mishima’s train of thought was interrupted when he heard chains rattling in the distance. Feeling a shiver crawl up his spine, Mishima began walking again, only to get in view of what appeared to be a robed being holding two guns in each hand and chains levitating around his torso. Screaming in sheer terror, he headed in the direction he came from, trying as best he could to get as far away from it as humanly possible. Only to run right into a person a few moments later.
“Oh jeez, I am so sorry!” Mishima profusely apologized, backing up to get a better look at the person he ran into. The problem was, he wasn’t talking to a person. He was talking to an angel holding a broadsword.
The angel swung his sword at Mishima, who barely dodged out of the way. Each attack the angel made, Mishima almost took.
‘If I take one hit from that sword, I’m dead!’ Mishima thought, fearing for his life. Memories of last April filled his mind, when Kamoshida abused him and the other members of the volleyball team at Shujin. There were so many words he wanted said to the now convicted coach, words that he should’ve said, but like the other members, he had been too scared to.
‘ Why? ’ Mishima asked his thoughts. ‘ Why am I thinking of this now...? ’
In one of the most impulsive moves he’s done, Mishima yells, “Hey, you!” The angel stopped attacking as Mishima continued, “What makes you think it’s alright for you to attack those who can’t fight back?! It’s people like you that drives me to give victims of abuse a platform to vent on!”
That’s when Mishima realized that those words were ones he needed to yell four months earlier.
“You’ve made me wait four long months, child.” A voice belonging to a young woman’s reverberated in Mishima’s head. Immediately after, wave after wave of immense pain flooded the teen’s head while the woman kept speaking. “Your determination to aid others has proven to me that you are worthy of my power. Now, show them what you can do!”
A quick burst of blue flames emerged from his face, leaving a dark blue mask in the shape of a bird’s wing. A name popped into his head as he grabbed onto the mask. “Lilith, please lend me your power!”
Mishima ripped the mask of his face, yelling in pain as flames enveloped his body. When they dissipated, A long-haired, beautifully dressed woman holding a snake was standing next to Mishima, who wore a dapper-looking ensemble with a matching tie, fedora, and umbrella.
“Wait, what happened to my clothes?!” Mishima gasped, inspecting the attire he was wearing. “And I’m sorry, but who are you?!”
The woman answered. “I am Lilith, but proper introductions will have to wait. Now attack the enemy in front of you!”
“...With what?” Mishima responded in a confused tone.
“With your umbrella.”
“But, it’s just a regular umbrella...”
The angel swung his sword at an Mishima, who, in the blink of an eye, parried the attack. He then lunged forward, landing a hit on his enemy. Another two attacks was all it took to defeat the angel. Breathing heavily, Mishima fell to his knees, trying to digest what had just happened.
“Now’s not the time to rest, child.” Lilith said to him. “We need to leave this place. I can help you get there.” She reached her arm towards Mishima.
“Thank you...” Mishima replied, exhausted. He took Lilith’s hand and let her guide him to the entrance of this unsettling place.