Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1. Live an honest student life

Tokyo. Wow.

Goro adjusted his bag strap and stepped out of the Yongen-Jaya station with trepidation. He was running late.

Of course, that wasn't of his making - a train delay, missed transfer, having to scrounge in the depths of his duffel bag for change to make up for the loss. It wasn't enough, and only the deadly combination of country bumpkin innocence, his faded but clean clothes and the lilting confusion in his voice convinced the station attendant to give him the necessary fifty extra yen from her own wallet and let him pass the turnstile and make the trip to Yongen-Jaya successfully.

Thank the gods Goro had freckles. He doubted anything would ever go his way otherwise.

 He practiced introductions under his breath in a thousand permutations as he passed the narrow streets of Yongen in search of his target, address slip in hand. People milled about in corners and gaps, as if there was truly nothing better to do on a breezy April afternoon than to stand in the streets and chatter like neighbourhood gossips.

They're not looking at you, he thought, and nearly believed it.

That was right. No one here knew who he was, where he'd come from. His lineage or lack thereof. It made the butterflies settle in his stomach - at least, until he realised he was lost.

Come on, Akechi. Use that famed intellect that got you a scholarship your last year of high school a universe away from everything you've ever known. That allowed you to stay in high school, and make a new start in life.

Make a new start. That was the idea.

He steeled up and went to the police officer loitering with nothing to do, smile in hand, and said, “Excuse me, sir, could I have your assistance? I’m looking for an address, and…”

Goro’s words drifted away as the man looked at him. At home police officers were the bane of his existence, and not because he was a delinquent or anything so attention-grabbing. No, his presence did that all by itself. The town was small; everyone knew who the institution boys were and stayed clear of them. It took him years of near-perfect grades, part-time jobs and volunteering around the community to be deemed one of the good ones, and yet, every time he was caught past curfew because a job kept him out late he got him a personal escort back the five blocks to the home.

Such a waste of resources. Even so, he held his breath. He couldn’t be afford to be seen as suspicious.

In Tokyo, he was a rule-abiding citizen like everyone else.

And he definitely didn't have a grudge against the police.

“Let me see,” the man said in a gruff voice, and it took Goro a thought too long to pass him the slip. The officer gave him a onceover too, saw his baggy clothes and mop of light brown hair and half-empty duffel bag. Goro scuffed his shoes and kept his smile up.

“You’re not from here, are you?” the officer said finally.

“No, sir,” Goro said.

“Visiting family?”

“I… something like that, yes.” His mouth watered. “I’m planning to attend a local high school here. I have a scholarship,” he added, then bit his tongue. Stupid! Why give a stranger that much information about him.

“Really?” The officer’s face broke into a smile. “Wish my son was so smart. Too busy playing Gun About or nonsense like that.” He gave Goro his slip back. “It’s just down the street. Turn right on the apartment building and it’s the first house on the left.”

“Oh,” Goro said. “Thank you.”

Was it that easy, after all?

 Naturally, no one was home.

Goro fought off his apprehension as he stared up at the house on front of him. Small, two-story, 3LDK at most. Dingy and grey… worn-out, almost.

Fitting, perhaps, that it was to be his home for the next year.

There was no need to be uncharitable. A home was a home. At the institution he slept on the creaking top half of a rusted old bunk bed in a room with eleven other boys. The bed rattled when he climbed up the ladder, swayed uncomfortably at night.

Hot water, he told himself. Your own bath.

He put a capital-S Smile on and turned when he heard the sound of a small truck stopping and a delivery man getting out with a box in hand.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Would you happen to know where the owner of this house is right now?" He waved his hand at the nameplate on the gate. “I rung the bell and no one answered.”

“Sakura-san?” The man adjusted his cap. “He’s always at Leblanc this time of day. Just go back up the street and turn…”

“Thank you,” Goro said for the third time that day, and walked away.

 Leblanc was the kind of charming shop he'd never been privy to before; all the money he'd earned from his jobs paid for high school and textbooks and the not-bentos he had for lunch. Three or four hundred yen for a cup of coffee was too rich for his blood, and eight hundred yen curry… forget it.

A tinny bell rung as he entered the place, and the proprietor - a middle-aged man behind the counter with glasses and a balding hairline - stopped wiping the counter and said, “Can I help you?”

“Are you Sakura-san?” Goro said, digging nails into his palm. “I'm Akechi Goro, from the Fuefuki Boys’ Home. I'm supposed to stay with you for the next year.”

Silence. A youngish male customer chuckled and said, “Boss! You taking in strays now?”

“Can it,” the owner grumbled. “Yeah, I'm Sakura. Sakura Sojiro. A lady from your place called me up a week ago. The date must have slipped my mind. Sorry about that.” He rolled his shoulders. “Still got some work to do before I close up though.”

“Oh,” Goro said. “I can walk around if need be - “

“Don't be ridiculous,” Sakura-san said. “Stop blocking the entrance and sit down. Have some curry while you wait. You look like you could use it.”

“Yes, sir,” Goro said, and got out of the way.

 Goro was wrong about everything. Eight hundred yen curry was awespiring.

The rice was fluffy and speckled green with minced parsley, tiny emeralds among gleaming sticky-sweet pearls. The curry was hot , chunks of beef butter-soft in his mouth, carrots and potatoes and rich, spicy, thick sauce. And the pickled red ginger…

All he'd had the whole day was conbini melonpan and a plain onigiri with only a pitted umeboshi in the centre - a shameful indulgence, considering his meager funds. He should have been able to chew off the hunger a bit longer, but he had quite literally been unable to stop himself. Ergo, begging for change from a train station attendant later on. Embarrassing.

A napkin appeared in his line of sight. Goro jolted and looked up to see Sakura-san gazing down at him with a dry smile and a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

“You missed a spot.”

Goro took the napkin, bemused. His plate was clear, as was the table.

“I meant your face, kid,” Sakura-san said. “You’ve got sauce on your chin.”

Goro wiped it off at once, getting the older man to chuckle as he slipped his coffee. In his curry haze it seemed the customer had left, and it was just the two of them in the cafe.

Sakura-san put his coffee down and slid into the seat across Goro, the set of his shoulders all business. “Now that you're fed and watered, I'm setting down some ground rules. The lady from your place said you were a good kid, but that was then. Tokyo's a big place. Shibuya's got a lot of temptations for a guy your age - you know what Shibuya is, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” Goro said.

“Kid, if you want me to like you, call me Boss. ”

“Yes, sir,” Goro said. “... Boss.”

The man's thin lips pressed tight, and he started rubbing his fingers together like he wanted a cigarette. He probably did.

A brief silence yawned between them. Then Goro took a breath and said, “I'm very grateful for this opportunity. Ogawa-sensei had a hard time finding a place for me in Tokyo. Shujin doesn't have dorms, so I would have lost my scholarship otherwise. So… thank you, for giving me a chance. I promise you won't regret it.”

Sakura-san fixed him with a stare as intense as the sun on pale skin. He took a long staggered breath and now Goro knew he was a smoker.

He said, “Kid, we all have people we don't want to disappoint,” and left it at that.

 Ground rules were thus: Goro was to be a model student. He was to come to Leblanc every day to check in with Sakura-san Boss Sakura-san before the place closed, and he was definitely not allowed to roam out past seven. He was to keep a record of his daily habits - a journal if you will - for the institution’s benefit. Goro was a test case, pushed and encouraged by Ogawa-sensei; if he did well this year, the other boys might be encouraged to keep on with their studies in hope of a high school scholarship and a place to live in that looked like home.

If.

Goro said nothing in objection. He was used to worse.

“Oh,” Sakura-san said. “And you'll be living here at Leblanc. Up in the attic.”

“Excuse me?” Goro said.

“You heard me,” the man said. “Got a problem with that?”

“Not at all,” Goro said with a Smile. “May I see this attic first?”

Sakura-san got up and collected both his cup and Goro’s used plate, dumping them in a large plastic bin by the counter. “Just past the bathroom,” he said, with the audacity to sound amused.

Goro followed, thinking nothing.

Up a set of narrow wooden stairs and the two of them stood in a space both cavernous and claustrotrophic. The room (if you could call it that; it had no door or partition) was piled high with what Goro could only assume was junk and decades’ worth of paraphernalia. The amount of dust floating about would induce asthma in a long distance runner.

"Well?" said Sakura-san.

Goro took a deep breath, then regretted it. He shielded his cough with the back of his hand, then managed, "I'll have to clean."

"So you like it." It was a statement.

Goro closed his eyes. No, he didn't... like it. Didn't like the thought of living in a glorified packrat's den, of anyone and everyone being able to wander up if they felt like it, of hearing all the din that went on in a cafe - clinking dishes, flushing toilet, the incessant chatter of strangers and the processed sincerity of news anchors on the old CRT downstairs.

He would have no privacy. But he was used to that, and here he wouldn't have to share.

He'd have a bed of his own, God willing. A place to toss and turn without fear of the frame collapsing and crushing the boy who slept beneath him. His own desk to study at, instead of the scratched up tables in the institution common rooms that screeched horribly when pushed across the linoleum floor.

A place to hang his clothes and not worry about them getting stolen.

(What did he have, really: three sets of shirts, three sets of pants, a pair of worn leather loafers, a near-new argyle sweater vest he snagged from a second-hand shop for five hundred yen, just enough underwear to get by without having to hand wash them every other day... and the beige dress coat Ogawa-sensei bought as a present when the acceptance letter from Shujin rolled in. It cost over ten thousand yen, and he still couldn't bear to take it out of its personal bag.)

What a poor bastard he was, to try and justify living here with some measure of content. But the ado about beggars went something like this, and Goro had always been a beggar.

He said, "It's a work in progress, but I'm sure that with some care and elbow grease it'll be the perfect place for me," and beamed at a dumbfounded looking Sakura-san.

"So... you do like it," he said.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

Sakura-san coughed. "In that case... I was going to offer you a room at my house if you didn't, but if you insist - "

"I don't," Goro said at once. "I'd much rather live in a house, Sakura-san. No offense."

"Ah, jeez." The man took off his glasses and wiped them with a cloth he took out of a pocket. "Kid, I was just trying to pull your leg. What kind of ass would make a teenager sleep in a place like this? Not like I want you poking about the coffee beans when I'm not here either." He put his glasses back on and offered a grin.

Oh. It was... a joke. Goro forced a chuckle, then stopped when he heard how fake it sounded. Even Sakura-san wasn't laughing.

"I see," Goro said finally. "Well... it's been a long day, so. I'd like to retire to my real room, if that's possible. Boss?"

Sakura-san jerked forward. "Uh, yeah," he said. "Sure, let me just close up and we'll head to the house." He walked over to the stairs, then stopped and gave Goro a look. "You're not mad, are you? You looked so uptight I thought a joke might ease things up... but clearly it didn't land or you'd actually be smiling right now."

I am smiling, Goro wanted to protest, but already the man could see through his mannerisms. He'd have to be careful or he'd never have a moment of peace to himself.

"I'm not mad, Sakura-san," he said. "But I am... disappointed."

And oddly enough, that did the trick. Sakura-san gave a snort of acknowledgement and said under his breath, "Yeah, you and everyone else I know."

Goro's room was on the first floor. It was small, with light wooden floors and a frosted window for privacy. The bed was just long enough to keep his feet on the mattress, and the desk had a folding chair of all things to sit on.

But there was a large traditional closet to put all his belongings in, and the door had a lock on it.

Oh, and he could turn the light switch on and off by himself.

Goro spent five minutes just flicking it on and off in sheer curiosity while Sakura-san was in the bath ("Just down the hall; don't get the bathwater dirty."), stopping only when the light bulb looked like it might have a nervous breakdown.

The bath, when it was his turn, was even more revelatory. He sat on the stool in the washing area and shivered when the shower spray soaked him scalp-first, down his face and chest and hips. The water was hot. The shampoo...

He'd have to get his own. Sakura-san with his meager hairline probably did not want Goro using up half his shampoo every time he had to wash. Goro's hair was long and thick and impractical, the target of more than one bully's ire back home. Even Ogawa-sensei had once counselled him to cut it, when he'd come home with his knees scraped up and gum in his hair.

Instead, Goro had just neatly trimmed the offending parts and brushed his hair out like so until no one could notice the absence. In Fuefuki his hair had been a problem area. It made him stand out.

He didn't care. It was the one part of him that felt exuberant, a little luxurious and self-indulgent. A buzzcut didn't suit him. Never would.

No more split ends for you , Goro thought absurdly, and washed the spot behind his ears.

(That night he slept under a red duvet and fought off a pounding headache until he woke at midnight and realized he had yet to turn the light off. It was never up to the boys at the institution. After he managed to crawl out of bed and turn the light off properly, the darkness that came was a sigh of relief as sweet as a woman's laughter.

 He dreamed someone was singing him a lullaby. She had his mother's smile, and his eyes.)

The morning after led to leftover curry for breakfast (somehow leftover curry tasted even better than freshly cooked), Sakura-san wearing an improbably stylish white trilby as he grumbled about driving Goro to school to pick up his uniform and get acquainted with the staff, which led to, well...

"Jeez," Sakura-san muttered as they left the school and made way to his car, parked a few streets away. "They really had to lay it thick on ya if you screw up, huh?"

Goro shrugged. "It can't be helped. Shujin Academy has a reputation to maintain. Taking in a scholarship student is one thing, but an institutionalized orphan?" It was amazing how light he kept his voice. "It'd be foolish if they weren't cautious about me."

"Yeah, I get it," the man said. "Still, why'd they even accept you if they had a stick up their asses about it?"

"It's possible they only saw my grades when they accepted me, and looked up my background after they already sent out the letter," Goro said. "Ergo, the anguish earlier."

"You call that anguish?"

"I'm sure they saw it that way," Goro said. "And I'll do my best to live up to their expectations."

(And maintain his scholarship, naturally.)

"Yeah, kid? And what about mine?"

Goro stopped. "... is there something you want from me, Sakura-san?"

" Boss , I said. And you don't have to phrase it like that!" Sakura-san Boss sighed and pulled down his hat. "I mean... I could use an extra pair of hands at Leblanc once or twice a week. You ever made coffee before? Or curry?"

"No, sir," Goro said, then watched Boss turn a bizarre shade of purple. "Sorry," he said after, not very sorry at all. "I literally cannot stop myself sometimes."

"Sure you can't," Boss grumbled. "Anyway, it's just an idea. Not like you can work right now either, and I figure kids like you don't get much of a chance to cook your own food. It'll come in handy too, when you're looking to fix a treat for that special someone in your life later on."

"Sounds like a challenge indeed," Goro said. He could not imagine anything more absurd than having a quote unquote special someone to cook and fawn over, but Boss had taken on a wistful tone and looked to with a misty gaze. Was he a romantic? Him?

"Well, then," he added. "I'll be in your care yet again, then."

"It's just coffee, kid," Boss said, but he couldn't help the slight smile on his face, and neither could Goro.

 At Leblanc. No leftovers to heat up; just make tamago gohan or something. Don't make a mess. Get to school on time.

No name given. But the note on the fridge attached to a plastic red A magnet (was that for him? No, it couldn't possibly be) couldn't have been written by anyone else.

Goro then opened the fridge and sighed. 

One semi-botched breakfast later (tamago gohan, tamago okayu... both involved rice, didn't they?) and a semi-disappointed but full stomach later, Goro left the Sakura house, crisp new uniform on (it fit , he thought, and tried not to laugh like a hyena when he saw himself in the mirror with that ridiculous black blazer and white turtleneck and checkered pants of all things - for a high school!), house keys in his school bag and fancy commuter pass in his pocket.

He left the house half an hour early, intending to make a good showing for his first day. He had no desire to confirm the Principal's worst suspicions of him, and his homeroom teacher...

Well. Goro had seen eyes on people like that before, and the best strategy to handle them was to be forgettably conformative. Neither to stand out or strike out. Just slink away into the shadows, and not be called upon unless absolutely necessary.

His personality was good for many things, but it could not reproach those who disliked him on first sight. Goro knew he'd better show up on time or else.

So naturally, he was late.

Tokyo was big. The Metro and various railway lines and stations were big, he concluded. Big, and chaotic, with people going every which way, and stores and advertisements and announcements blaring in his small town ears, and was he heading to or from the Ginza Line and...

He made it to Aoyama-Itchome Station and onto the street leading to Shujin eventually. But it had begun raining midway through his journey, and Goro in his infinite wisdom and poverty had no umbrella, but only hands.

Other students were running past with better equipment on hand. Goro stood under an awning half-soaked and thought about asking to share. But no - he was the transfer student, a third-year and yet a stranger. He ought to sit still until introduced.

Ah - an opportunity. A female student in a white hoodie joined his awning, and as she tugged it down he put on his most concerned voice and said, "Excuse me, would you happen to - "

Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Pigtails . American? Goro's voice caught in his throat.

(Not that light brown hair was natural to most Japanese either, but he digressed.)

"Sorry?" the girl said, and appearances be deceiving, for that was a Japanese voice and none other. "Did you say something?"

"Umbrella," Goro said. "I was wondering if you had an umbrella on you." He gestured to his damp blazer. "I'm quite... well, it's obvious, I suppose."

The girl shrugged and smiled. "Sorry! I'm in the same situation. I'd share otherwise, you know?"

"I understand," Goro said. He looked up at the sky and sighed. "I guess we'll simply have to run for it. Well, shall we - "

He didn't get to finish that thought. A silver car rolled up in front of him, and the window scrolled down. Wearing a blue tracksuit and leaning forward from the driver's side was Goro's new homeroom teacher.

Offering them a lift to school.

No, that wasn't accurate. He offered to the girl first, then Goro.

He could refuse. But she'd already accepted, and this was a solution, wasn't it?

He had to remember his own rules too. Don't stick out. At least, not yet.

"My thanks," he said, and got in the backseat. As soon as he locked his seatbelt in the car drove off, and Goro got a glimpse of a boy with garish blond hair in a Shujin uniform staring at them. Standing just where Goro had, and no umbrella in sight.

Opportunity didn't strike for everyone, he guessed.

The drive was mostly quiet save for Kamoshida-sensei asking the girl this and that about her life, and she answering in cheery - yet curt - statements and light laughter. Once in a while the man looked at his front view mirror to where Goro could be seen, but said nothing until they reached the school parking lot, and the girl left - "See you later, Takamaki." "Ri - right. See you too!" - did he scratch the back of his neck and said, "Well, Akechi? You got what I said to you yesterday, right?"

"Yes, sir." Goro kept his smile small and inoffensive. "I understand completely."

"Good," Kamoshida said. "Well, we might as well go in together. I have to introduce you to the class, after all." He pursed his lips and said, "You wouldn't happen to be good at sports, would you?"

"No, sir," Goro said. "I'm afraid I never had much in the way of time or resources to pursue physical activities. I did bike on occasion, but - "

"A real brainiac, aren't you? Alright, I get it. Not like the volleyball team needs any more tryouts as it is. Someone like you better stick to books, anyway. You'll need it, with your background."

And what did he mean by that, Goro wondered. But then the school bell rung, and Kamoshida marched up to the school gates and began haranguing students who had the impetus to arrive just a few seconds shy of on time.

All the while, Goro stood beside him, not saying a word or attracting attention.

Only questioning if, to the onlookers he appeared to be a bystander - or a fan.

 Goro had forgotten to prepare a lunch.

Nor did he have any money.

And the rumour mill had already started. When he'd gone to the bathroom during break, he caught snippets of whispers and allegations in the hallways and washed his hands until they were pruney and the blood no longer rushed to his ears.

"Is it true he's from an... institution? How scary!"

"But isn't he supposed to be a scholarship student? Why would the Principal let someone like that in if it was true?"

"Maybe he was threatened!"

"Maybe he's from a yakuza family! Can you check to see if he has any tattoos?"

"I heard he got a ride from Kamoshida with Takamaki! Can you even imagine?!"

"Well, he's no good if he's associated with them . Takamaki's so... ugh, you know, and everyone knows the rumours about Kamoshida."

"Shh! He's looking at us!"

Everyone? Did everyone know? Really?

Dwelling on secondhand gossip was a fool's game, yet it occupied half of Goro's lunch break. Not like he had... food, to distract himself with. How could he so stupid. Did Boss need to remind him to make his own bento every day too? Rice with furikake and tamagoyaki and cherry tomatoes? Salmon and edamame and mashed kabocha balls?

(Actually, that sounded heavenly.)

God, but someone's bento had fried chicken in it, and the smell of it - with tartar sauce - made Goro start chewing his nails to think about anything else, including nonsense about how he was the secret son of some criminal mastermind who would kill someone as soon as look at them, and he was probably only really nice and smiley because he had magic powers that allowed him to terrorize people and - and -

Is this really what ordinary high school students talk about? he thought, and groaned. Of course. The worst they had to worry about was college exams, and part-time jobs, and parental disappointment, and -

He'd wanted to be an ordinary high school student all his life. What if it turned him into an idiot, though? What, then?

Well, not like he could ever test that out in practice. He was already too far gone.

Lunch should have ended, then, and he gotten back to subtly impressing his teachers (now that Kamoshida wasn't here Goro felt much less anxious about displaying his intellect - and he was a scholar, absolutely) and acquiring a less grotesque reputation. But then a girl with short brown hair and stern expression came up to his desk and said, "Hello, Akechi-kun."

Kun?  She was friendly. Goro said nothing, causing her to adjust her stance. Solid. Background in martial arts, maybe. Yes, she could probably beat him down in a minute flat. He tried not to think about how depressing that was.

"You are Akechi-kun, right?" the girl said.

He put on a smile. "Guilty as charged. How may I help you, miss...?"

"Nijima Makoto, Student Council President." She bowed. "I came to welcome you. Shujin Academy should be proud of having a scholarship student of your caliber here. I've seen your marks," she said, tone crinkling a bit. "Very impressive." Sincere. A little envious? But mostly genuine.

Huh.

"I...well, thank you," Goro said. "That's very kind of you to say. Is that all?"

"No! Not at all." Nijima tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear and crossed her arms. "I also wanted to add that, as Student Council President I'd like you to come to me if you have any concerns during your time here. I understand you came from quite a ways off - "

"Fuefuki," Goro said. "How did you know?"

A slight fidget. "The Principal told me."

Well then. "I'll be sure to let you know," Goro said. "As long as it doesn't interfere with my scholarship, I assume?"

Nijima looked scalded. "Please, Akechi-kun. I would never use anything a student said to me in confidence against them. Not to the Principal or a teacher or even my own sister."

Sister? Bizarre. "Right," Goro said. "Absolute confidence."

Recovered, Nijima smiled, and observing her mood oscillate, Goro had a feeling that if ever pushed to the limit she could start cracking heads. "Well, then, Nijima-san," he said, lowering his voice. "I do have a question, then, if I may."

"Yes, of course." She even leaned in a little. It was vaguely pitiful how eager she was to be useful to others, even a strange transfer student with a loaded background.

(Goro was commenting only as an observer, of course.)

Goro said, "Is it true?"

Her eyes were a reddish-brown, like his, and the way they narrowed as her brows lowered was amusing. "Is what true?"

"The rumours," he said, so low no one else could hear. "About Kamoshida."

A change came over Nijima like a creeping vine; her pose rigid as bone.

She said, enunciating as sharp as a knife, "I'm afraid I have no idea what such rumours even are."

"Me either," Goro said. "He gave me a ride to school today. I would have been late otherwise. Plus, it was raining. He was very kind to me. So I thought - I didn't want to - "

"You didn't want to get the wrong impression about him," Nijima said.

"Yes, exactly. And who else to ask but the Student Council President - "

"Right, right," she said, even as she looked pleased about him acknowledging her title - maybe as few others did. He couldn't say. "Kamoshida-sensei is the star of our school faculty. He's brought our volleyball team to Nationals several years in a row - "

"But never won?" Goro interrupted, and saw the girl's hairline inch up at that.

"No," she said. "But our other sports teams have never come close to even making it that far. It's true his methods... have been seen by some students as harsh, but everyone speaks the world of him. Especially the volleyball team."

"I see," Goro said. "Maybe I should try out then."

"You? I'm afraid that's very unlikely!" Nijima said, and was she suddenly smiling? Really? "Tryouts are very competitive. Many students who are in one year don't make it the next - that's how serious Kamoshida-sensei and the school are about winning."

"You've set my mind at ease," Goro said, and Njima stood up a little straighter.

"Anything for a fellow student," she said.

"What about Takamaki, though?"

Again, the posture. "Takamaki? The second-year?"

"I heard people gossiping about her during break," Goro said, shrugging with perfect artifice. "I'm not sure what about, but it sounded vulgar."

"Yes, well..." Nijima bit her lip. "I'm afraid those rumours are similarly baseless. Takamaki-san is a model in her spare time. So..."

"She provokes jealousy," Goro said. "I get it."

"I'm glad." Nijima's smile looked a bit more weary this time. "I'm afraid the lunch bell will ring soon, so I should head back to my own class, and - "

"Wait," Goro said, and the way her shoulders set in resignation proved that, really, he was an asshole. But he'd had no one else to talk to this whole time, and...

"The rumours about me," he said. "Are they true?"

"I... don't understand what you're asking me, Akechi-kun," Nijima said. "You would know better than anyone if such gossip is warranted is not."

"Yes," Goro said. "But even if they were true, are they the kind of thing that should be spread around the school so carelessly?"

Njima only stared. "... are they, Akechi-kun?"

"No," he said. "I have a lot riding on me this year to do my best, and these rumours are - " He waved a hand about. "It's not even the end of my first day yet, and I already feel frustrated. I just want to know if... Shujin is a place where the truth matters or not. About me, or anyone who's the focus of such... one-sided attention."

Njima opened her mouth to say something.

The bell rung at the same time.

"I have to go," she said, running a hand through her perfectly coiffed hair - did she use cucumber shampoo? "But I'd be happy to continue our conversation another time. For what it's worth, I hope I was able to ease your concerns, Akechi-kun."

Goro sat in his chair, and thought about it.

"You have, Nijima-san," he said, and bowed his head. "Thank you."

She smiled, and when her lips stretched her pale face her heart rang true.

Ordinarily, that would make Goro feel worse about himself.

Not today.

 The first day ended without much other fuss and, apart from the prolonged tete-a-tete with Nijima, Goro not speaking to a single other being other than his teachers and the lady who sold buns on the first floor and told him, when catching him staring, that they sold yakisoba pan every Fridays and that, since he was new, if he came early enough she'd let him buy two when everyone else got one!

Goro stumbled upon three one-hundred yen coins just lying in a corner by the stairs and hoovered them right up when no one was looking.

(Jam bread, jam bread, jam bead...)

The school store was closed, and he fought the urge to throw a tantrum and cry. He hadn't eaten anything since his debacle of a breakfast and his stomach was about to turn itself inside-out and start cannibalizing the rest of him, starting with his useless brain since it was no good for anything practical. Only studying, and acing tests without cram school, and getting him into snotty prep schools with vapid students and teachers who were possibly also predators.

Vending machine. There were vending machines in the courtyard. A drink would stave off some of his hunger - possibly corn soup, if they had it, and then he would rush to Leblanc and beg Boss for some curry. Surely the man would let him eat early if he helped out after?

Goro made his way across the courtyard and grumbled over the lack of offerings and price before picking Second Maid and cracking it open. Halfway through his refreshing drink a pair of voices drifted near in argument.

"Why would you even go in his car when you know what he's like?! Come on, Ann."

"Mind your own business! This doesn't concern you."

"Hell yeah it concerns me when my own friend gets used by Kamoshida and no one gives a rat's ass, not even the Principal, and - "

"Ohoho, we are NOT friends, Ryuji! We haven't been friends since middle school! Just admit you hate Kamoshida because of what he did to you and leave me out of it!"

"WHAT?! So you're okay with what he's using to you and the team? He's going to kill someone soon!"

"No, I'm not okay with it! Stop putting words in my mouth - "

The argument was getting both louder and closer, and by Goro's metric, about to involve tears in ten point five seconds.

Also, he had no way of leaving the school without confronting the voices in one way or another. They were in his way.

He finished his drink and deposited the can in the recycling bin, then rolled his neck and proceeded forward.

Then came to a halt.

The girl was Takamaki, and she was definitely crying.

The boy had hideous yellow hair and he was definitely the one who'd been looking at them in the morning when Kamoshida drove them.

(It wasn't out of envy, then.)

"I'd like to make my way past, if I could," Goro said, then all it fell to pieces.

"YOU!" the boy said. "How much did you hear?"

"Nothing," Goro said, then winced. He'd definitely believe that one.

"Hey, wait! You were in the car this morning too!" The boy took a step towards Goro and then grabbed his arm. "You were there! He did something perverted to Ann, right? Did he say something to you?"

"Nothing of the sort happened," Goro said, frozen. "Also, get your hand off of me."

"Oh my god, Ryuji, just stop!" Takamaki wiped at her tears angrily with her hoodie. "Can't you see you're just making everything worse? Just drop it, will you? Kamoshida isn't going anywhere no matter how much you fight him, alright? All you're doing is making it worse for me and Shiho and everyone else. So just... stop..."

"I'm trying to help," Ryuji croaked. "Ann, wait - "

She took off. The boy deflated, sinking to his knees.

"Fuck," he muttered. "I'm helping. I mean, I want to help. Why won't anyone else..."

"Hand off, please," Goro said.

Ryuji shot him a nasty look and flung his hand away. "Whatever, asshole. Ain't like someone like you cares anyway. I heard about you already, you know?"

"Oh, really?" Goro said. "What have you heard about me?"

He expected antagonism and contempt, was fully prepared to spit it back out. But Ryuji just shrugged and rubbed his temples.

"Fuck if I know," he muttered. "The same bullshit they probably spew about me too. I used to be part of the in crowd. The track team star. Then Kamoshida shows up with his volleyball crap and SUDDENLY - " He cut himself off. "Why am I even saying this? Not like you give a shit about it."

If Goro was a sane man, he shouldn't. But he had always been curious, if only because knowledge was power, even if only a thimbleful. "He did something to you," he said, and Ryuji slumped down further.

"Bastard broke my leg last year and got me fired from the team," the boy said. "Now he beats the crap out of the volleyball team and does fucked-up shit to Ann and her friend Suzui." He let out a scream. "FUCK! Why doesn't anyone give a shit! Not the Principal, not the teachers, anyone -  "

"I spoke to Nijima Makoto today," Goro said. "She said the rumours were baseless."

"Fuck her," Ryuji snarled. "Little Miss Student Council President narcs to the Principal every chance she gets. She's his pawn and nothing else. Even if she was on our side there's nothing she could do to help us."

Neither could Goro, in truth. "I suppose there's a reason you haven't sent a tip to the police," he said.

"With no one to back me up?" Ryuji scowled.

"Unsubstantiated," Goro said. The word felt good on his tongue. Reminded him of the days when he was slow to study because school was no future and life outside the institution an impossible dream. When all he did was read aged translations of Lupin and Holmes and Poirot and mimic their every word. Even then, he was a perfect imitation.

(He dreamt of Shirogane every night for six months straight. He was her mysterious and conveniently related little brother; she took him in; gave him her name, and his very own cap and suit. They solved crimes together and adopted a dog - Shiba Inu - that protected Goro when he had night terrors, and was a snack-stealing rascal otherwise. A fantasy - a farce - a farce - )

"Bullshit," Ryuji said. "That's what they'd say to me. What everyone says. Even Ann."

Unbelievably, Goro found himself saying, "She hasn't reached her breaking point yet."

"I did," Ryuji said. "A long time ago. So why am I still here?" He looked crestfallen. "Why am I the one that's alone?"

 Strange and stranger, but he was beginning to acquire a taste for this foul-mouthed brat and his sense of justice.

Justice. Was that the word?

Yes. It yearned and cried out and howled like a mad cat in heat. It demanded attention and clawed blood to get it. It rung out to roll heads, to break the chains of oppression, to overthrow the ones in power. Goro knew it acutely.

It was the justice of Ogawa-sensei, appointed by the government to become the new manager of Fuefuki Boys' Home fresh out of school. She was young and fresh-faced and smelled of expensive lily perfume. Institutions chewed up well-meaning and wide-eyed bureaucrats like her and either polluted them into cynical chain-smoking addicts who stumbled headfirst into an early grave or spat them out into hurried domestication and two children, 4LDKs and forty years of bentomaking. She had no chance.

Neither did Goro.

You're a smart boy, Goro, so why do you tear up those beautiful drawings you make all the time? I wanted to see your newest one, but it was gone before I even had the chance.

 I don't know, he would say in his monotone. Twelve and bitter and so, so scared of dying before he was twenty. I don't care.

Is it because you have nowhere safe to keep them otherwise? Is that it?

No! It's because I hate looking at them afterward. They're so ugly.

All of them? Even the ones with you?

They're the worst! I hate them the most because they keep reminding me of things that aren't allowed to exist.

Like what, Goro?

Like him.

Like a lot of things.

"You're not alone," Goro said.

What?

"What?" said Ryuji.

"I heard everything. And I believe you."

What are you doing. Why are you doing this?

"Let me help you," Goro said. "We'll bring Kamoshida to justice and save your friends' hides." He smiled. "And both of ours, if I'm being perfectly honest. His impression of me has been so-so thus far."

"Uh, okay - " Mouth fully agape. "Great! But... why are you helping me, exactly?"

What about your plan, Goro?

You have only one chance.

You know this.

So why...

Why?

"I suppose," Goro said, "I just really hate authority figures who abuse their power to hurt people who can't fight back. You could say it makes me sick to my stomach."

"Uh, yeah," Ryuji croaked. "Yeah. Me too."

 ("By the way, I never got your name."

"Nor I yours. I'm Akechi Goro. A third year."

"I'm Sakamoto. Second year. Though if we're doing this, you might as well call me Ryuji. Can I call you Goro?"

"No."

"Really? Why not, man?"

...

"Come on, the silent treatment? At least exchange numbers with me so we can get a chat going or something."

"Oh. I... don't actually have a phone."

"A guy your age with no phone? Ugh, where are you from, the boonies?"

"I'm poor , Sakamoto. And here."

"A hundred yen? What for?"

"A drink. Have it on me.")

 That night Goro fell into a deep sleep, and awoke in a dark room with chains on his feet and iron bars in front of him.

"Rise to your feet, inmate," the child on the left intoned, her unhooded eye as piercing and yellow as fear itself.

"Show our master some respect!" the child on the right spat out, flinging her rod out like a whip against the bars of Goro's cell. His ears ringing from the pain until they nearly bled.

"Trickster," intoned the hook-nosed man with a deep voice and enigmatic smile. "Welcome to my Velvet Room. This... is the start of your rehabilitation."

Chapter Text

2. Uncover Kamoshida's abuses

As a partner-in-crime, Sakamoto's passion was most welcome.

His sense of tact, however...

As a battered Mishima Yuuki stammered that he knew nothing and wasn't going to tell them anything, then turned tail and ran, Goro sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He was beginning to regret promising Sakamoto he'd help, and for good reason: being seen with the delinquent, even if only after school, wasn't good for his already ailing reputation. The boy was not inconspicuous, lurking on the floor outside Goro's classroom despite being a second-year, grabbing him by the arm every time the bell rang and whisking him off to a corner for "strategizing"...

At least he wasn't yelling anymore. Even if every time a member of the volleyball team scattered rather than talk to them he'd kick the wall and grumble. Goro just rubbed the back of his neck and thought I need to finish this quickly and go back to normal as soon as I can. No more distractions.

 In the sleepy depths of the Velvet Room, the creature known as Igor laced his spidery hands together and murmured, "Trickster... you lack something."

Goro's fingers furled around the bars of his cell. "Lack?" he echoed.

He was used to dreams of this nature, continuations of a comforting story night after night. It was all he used to look forward to, once. This confining space with its blue tones and dark shadows even had Shirogane's colouring.

He almost chuckled at the thought of her in such a place. What would she even think of it?

Of him, for once wishing she would rescue him from a prison like this?

"Our master wishes to bestow a gift upon you," said the one-eyed Justine in her soft serenade. "But you lack the vehicle to welcome it."

"Get a phone, inmate!" Caroline snapped.

"A phone?" Goro said. This again? The twins had told him the same the night before, and he dismissed it when he woke up as the hodgepodge nature of dreaming itself.

"Indeed," Igor said. "It is necessary for your... rehabilitation."

"I'm sorry." Goro wet his lips. "I don't understand. How is a phone going to help me?"

"It will allow you to access the Metaverse Navigator App," Igor said, and the word app coming out of his mouth made Goro's eyes bulge in ridicule. What was going on, really?

"The Metaverse App will let you traverse between realities," Justine said, a clipboard pressed to her chest.

"With it you'll be able to see people's true natures and their distorted desires," Caroline added - and then, presumably because it didn't sound hostile enough: " If you can even handle it, inmate!"

"Come back to us when you are ready," Igor said in his slow and methodical voice. "And we will resume this conversation..."

"A phone?" Boss said. "You mean you don't have one already?"

Goro shrugged as the man poured him a cup of coffee, alongside a simple breakfast of buttered toast, two fried eggs, and a small tomato and lettuce salad. "Such things were luxuries back at the institution," he said, and ladled in a full spoonful of sugar and a splash of cream into his coffee, which made Boss visibly sigh.

"I suppose you wouldn't be happy with some old thing that only punches in numbers, would you," the man grumbled.

Metaverse App , Igor had said. "No, sir," Goro said. "But I'd be happy to pay you back once I get a job."

"Once," Boss snorted. "You've still got a curfew, remember."

... he did. Especially since Sakamoto had asked him to go out for ramen yesterday and looked incredulous when Goro told him he'd get in trouble if he did. Tempting as the thought of a bowl of shoyu ramen was, with sweet globs of fat from the pork slices dripping down onto the broth was...

Thank God Goro remembered to pack his lunches nowadays.

"Well, fine, I guess." Boss took off his apron and draped it over the back of his chair before he sat down for his own meal. "Don't use it to get in trouble though, or I'm taking it right back."

"Thank you," Goro said, and smiled.

"Don't mention it."

Goro washed the dishes when breakfast was done while Boss lit up a cigarette and took out his phone, thankfully walking out onto the house's small patio to smoke. "Hey, Futaba? I've got a favour to ask. I don't know much about phones, so..."

Another day of school came and went with little in the way of resolution. Sakamoto caught Takamaki in the courtyard after school with a black-haired girl with bandages on her face and compression socks on - presumably Shiho - and started causing a scene when the man of the hour showed up to make it all worse.

"Ah, Sakamoto," Kamoshida said. "I was wondering what the hollering was about."

Goro pressed his lips. A diplomat Sakamoto was not.

And yet, he was the one letting the boy take charge of this so-called investigation. So who was the bigger idiot?

Kamoshida's gaze slid to him like grease on a hot pan. "Akechi. I'm disappointed. With all that's going around you, I thought you'd know better than to associate with someone like him."

"Someone like me, huh?" Sakamoto snarled.

"Actually, sir, you've got the wrong idea," Goro said, bright as a bee.

"What?" Sakamoto said, nostrils flaring in betrayal already.

"I'm tutoring him after school," Goro said. "Sakamoto asked me to help him improve his grades."

"And that's why you two run around the hallways harassing members of my team." Kamoshida crossed his arms. "Well, Takamaki? Is it true?"

"Huh?" The girl's eyes widened. She had her arm locked tight around Shiho's in a protective stance. "Uh, yeah, I guess. Akechi - senpai," she corrected herself in a hurry, "is supposed to be like, really smart, right? I've seen them in the library too. Once or twice."

Why she was defending their lie Goro didn't know, but he'd gladly take an ally if necessary. "There you go, sir," he said in as pleasant a tone as he could muster.

"Keep your studying to the library, then," Kamoshida said finally. "Suzui, go to my office."

"Huh?" The black-haired girl spoke for the first time. "But... we don't have practice today." Drawing further into herself with every word.

"It's not about practice. Mishima should have gotten you by now - " Kamoshida narrowed his eyes. "Well?"

Shiho - Suzui - deflated. "Yes, sensei.”

"Actually," Goro said. "We all have a study session planned today, don't we?' Smile. "Takamaki-san, your grades aren't that good either, right?"

"Well... yeah," Takamaki said. "But how is that... OH!" Her face transformed. "That's right! How could I forget, tee hee!" Oh God.  "Come on, Shiho. Let's study and stuff!"

"See ya, coach!" Sakamoto said with a nasty grin, and the four of them skedaddled before Kamoshida could get in another word.

Right outside the school gates, Takamaki's peppy smile dissolved.

Suzui looked like she wanted to cry.

Sakamoto said, "What the hell does he want you in his office for? And why use Mishima as a lapdog?"

"Ryuji, just..." Takamaki groaned. "Just let it go, alright?" Suzui was crouched to the ground and hugging herself. Takamaki leaned down and rubbed her shoulder.

She looked worn out.

Sakamoto gave Goro a push. "Come on, say something," he hissed.

Oh. Right. Goro rubbed his nose. "I... know a place where we can talk in private," he said. "Do any of you like coffee?"

"Welcome to Leblanc - oh." Boss stared as the four of them entered the cafe. "Kid, you bring a funeral procession in here?"

"Good afternoon, Boss," Goro said. ("Boss?" Sakamoto said behind him.) "I was wondering if my... friends and I could have a booth and some coffee. I'll work it off?"

"You've already got a five-figure tab on me," Boss warned, but took out four porcelain mugs. "Go on. Take a seat. Not like anyone else is coming around today."

Some hot coffee and Boss' requisite smoking break later, Suzui dabbed at her eyes with a damp napkin and said, "... thank you. It was nice of you to let us come here."

"You don't look too happy to say that though," Goro said. And because Sakamoto had a Habit, he put his hand on the boy's forearm and just shook his head.

Tact, my friend. Tact.

Sakamoto rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut.

"No," Suzui said in her quiet voice. "I guess I'm not."

Her hand was on the table. Takamaki squeezed it, and it made Suzui smile. Goro wondered how it felt to touch someone like that, even only as a friend.

Did it feel warm? It must.

Did it feel good? Why else would someone do it?

Did it make them feel wanted?

He wanted to know, terribly.

He kept his thoughts to himself, and listened to Suzui.

"Volleyball is all I have," she said, worming at her lip. "Nationals is coming up soon, and if all goes well I'll be on the starting lineup. But right now..." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I don't know if I can. If I deserve it."

"Of course you do, Shiho!" Takamaki said. "You're on the team because everyone recognizes how good you are. And we're all proud of you."

"Thank you, Ann," Suzui whispered. "I wonder why it doesn't make me feel any better, though."

"If I may," Goro said. "We could help you with that."

"Finally," Sakamoto muttered beside him.

Takamaki started. "Look, senpai," she said. "I know what you're doing with Ryuji, and I appreciate it, but..." She groaned. "Kamoshida used to be an Olympic medallist, you know? The school's sports teams were nothing before him - "

"They're still nothing," Sakamoto said, fists clenched in his lap. "The track team doesn't even exist anymore."

"And whose fault was that, Ryuji?" Takamaki said coldly.

Goro expected him to blow up again, but the boy just sank into his seat. "If he'd said that shit about your mom you'd have done the same," he said in a low voice.

"... sorry," Takamaki said.

"Whatever." Sakamoto jammed his hands into his pockets and got up. "Look, I'm gonna go for a walk. See ya later."

"Sakamoto - " Goro started, but the boy just grabbed his bag and left.

Touchy.

"Takamaki-san," he said. "Suzui-san. I... know this has been hard on you. Both the rumours about Kamoshida and... whatever Sakamoto and I have doing in our childish attempt to help you." He crooked his mouth in a self-deprecating smile. "We haven't been helping at all, have we?"

"No," Takamaki said. "Not really."

Ah. Maybe it was better they stop now, before any real damage was done.

"But it is nice," she admitted. "At least you care about us, you know? Ryuji..." She groaned. "I was really angry at him the other day. He just kept barging in and telling me to confess about Kamoshida and bring him to justice. But what does that even mean? Sensei's the school favourite, and I'm..."

"You have a reputation," Goro said.

"Yeah." She looked miserable. "My parents live abroad. If I accused Kamoshida and had no proof, then I could get expelled and they'd have to come back and get me and - " She took in a deep breath.

"It's okay, Ann," Suzui said, and touched her shoulder.

"Thanks, Shiho."

A smile passed between them. Small as it was, it was like a secret promise.

Jealousy forced itself upward Goro's throat and he bit it back down. It wasn't about him.

"It feels like..." Suzui offered, tentative as her bandaged fingers laced together on the tabletop. "Everything we could do to help each other will just cause trouble for others. Even if we're trying to help."

"If I accuse Kamoshida of hurting the volleyball team, then Shiho'll get kicked off," Takamaki said.

"... yeah." The girl swallowed. "And if I back you up then he'll punish the whole team because of me. I can't put them all in jeopardy just for my sake."

“I hate it,” Takamaki moaned.

"Why," Suzui said. "Why is it so much harder to help people than hurt them?"

Why indeed.

"It's funny," Goro said, and the two girls stared at him.

"What is?"

"No, no, just - " He shrugged. "You're right, Suzui. It's much harder to help than hurt. It takes hundreds of people to construct a building, but only a single person with a match to burn it all down. Why is that? Is it just human nature? Are we all just naturally awful and we have to fight our worst tendencies to do any good in the world?"

Silence, and only the sound of the clock ticking to prove they were all still breathing.

"I hope not," Takamaki said. "I'd never want to live somewhere so heartless."

"Me either," Suzui whispered.

"I'm not sure any of us get to make that choice," Goro said.

But he was making it worse now, and alienating them.

"I'm sorry," he said, when neither of them responded. "It's getting late. I don't think Sakamoto's coming back any time soon, so..."

"It's okay," Takamaki said. "We'll be fine."

"See you tomorrow, then," Goro said.

"See you," Suzui echoed. Takamaki helped her get up, and supported her as they walked out. Suzui slumped to her side like a dead man, Takamaki standing tall while holding both their school bags.

Goro looked away. It seemed wrong to stare.

The bell rung.

Goro looked up from his textbook. "Sakamoto?"

"Saka-WHO?" said a very high-pitched and girlish voice coming out of a short and girlish figure in a blue and black school uniform. Not Shujin.

"... my apologies." Goro put his book down. Boss should really be back from his break now. "I thought you were someone else."

"So did I! Where's Sojiro?" The girl traipsed in. She had long orange hair, and black-rimmed glasses, and a teethy smile that was going to give Goro a headache soon.

"Smoking, I think," he said.

"Oh. I'll wait, then."

Much to his horror, she didn't simply sit down by the counter or take one of the booths, but sidled over into the staff area and began poking about the various coffee-making machines.

"Excuse me?" Goro said. "I'm sorry, but you really shouldn't be back there - "

"You gonna narc on me, nerd?" the girl said, giving Goro a thorough, suspicious glance. "Wait. You're not just some rando customer, are you? You're the scholarship guy Sojiro took in!"

"Yes," Goro said icily. "And you are - "

The bell rung again.

"Futaba! What are you - " Boss saw the girl attempting to unscrew a glass jar of coffee and rubbed his temples. "Drop that and you're not getting anything for your next birthday."

"Not fair, Sojiro!" the girl squeaked, though she did put the jar on safe ground - the counter. "I was just feeling peckish. And Mom never - "

"Mom never gives you anything nice, yes." Boss shook his head. "At least let a man run a business, will ya?"

"Sure," Futaba said. "If you let me know who that narc is over there."

"Narc?"

"Akechi Goro," Goro said. "Scholarship third-year at Shujin Academy, and not someone who goes digging around other people's businesses at will."

Boss coughed. "Kid, you have no idea. Futaba, this is Akechi. I'm taking him on for a year. He's the one I asked you to get a phone for."

"Oh!" said Futaba. "Well, why didn't you just say so." She unzipped her school bag and pulled out all sorts of junk - used candy wrappers, various wires and batteries, a laptop, crumpled notebooks and a Featherman figure of all things - before triumphantly taking out a white cardboard case and holding it up to the light. "Ta da! I got it real cheap online and got rid of the bloatware for you. Even added some of my fave programs."

She then tossed it at Goro, who registered the box coming at his face just in time and grabbed it with both hands.

"Thank you," he said, tongue between his teeth to prevent himself from saying anything else.

"I asked you to get it this morning," Boss said. "How did you get it so fast?"

"Sojiro," Futaba said, coming back to the customer's side of the cafe and sitting on a stool. "It's like you don't even know me." She waggled her brows.

"And this," Boss said wearily. "Is Isshiki Futaba. Daughter of a friend of mine."

"Friends by daylight , maybe - "

"Futaba!"

"What?" she drawled. "Anyway, I’m a super tech specialist and hacker and programmer. I'm also fifteen and I go to Kosei High! Nice to meet you, Akechi!"

"The feeling is mutual," Goro said.

(It was not.)

Boss gave up on all pretense of more customers and flipped the sign to CLOSED an hour early. "Have some curry before you go," he told Futaba, and the girl's eyes sparkled and she slammed her hands down on the counter.

"That's what I came for!"

While they waited for the curry to cook she wouldn't let Goro go back to studying either, intent on showing him how she'd modified his phone to be better than the newest on the market: faster, better, and sexier in every way. Goro didn't know half of what she was showing him, but praise in the way of "I see" and "That's very smart of you" went a long way. She was a chatterbox, and even with curry in her mouth managed to talk nonstop without the food getting in her way. A speck of pickled red ginger did land on Goro's cheek more than once, though.

She left an hour later with three containers of curry in a bag for her and her mother, an insistence that Goro call her Futaba since the title of Isshiki-san was reserved for her mom and a firmly worded, "It gives me the creeps when you're so formal like that! Live a little, nerd!" Boss accompanied her to the station, and Goro cleaned up his books and washed the dishes in the sink by hand. The man had yet to teach him anything else about Leblanc yet, and he doubted he'd get such an exasperated but fond reaction if he started messing with the coffee jars.

He was wiping them dry when Boss returned. "Oh! Hard at work, I see," he said.

Goro smiled. "Like I said. I owe you a debt."

"Sure." The man sat down on a stool. "You don't have to be so serious about it though. You've got the whole school year to think about first."

"I know," Goro said. "But I feel better the sooner I get it over with."

"Sure," Boss muttered. "Jumpy, aren't you." He inspected his nails. "You going to tell me about what happened with your friends earlier?"

"Oh, high school drama.” The lie flowed out easily. "You know how it is."

"Somehow I doubt kids like you get involved in drama ," Boss retorted. "You going to tell me the truth or what?"

Goro stilled. "I'm not sure if it's important."

"Let me be the judge of that."

And against Goro's own judgment, he told him.

A conversation later, Boss shook his head. "Kid, this is way out of your pay grade."

"I know," Goro said. God, if he was like Shirogane or even the hot new craze Kurusu and his supposed Third Eye, then this would be a cakewalk. "But I promised I'd help."

"And a promise is a promise, right?" Boss got up. "You know what you sound like, don't you?"

"Like what?" Goro said, hands still, and behind his back.

"A hero," Boss said, and Goro's heart swelled before the man added, "No - that's not a damn compliment."

"Oh."

"Look," Boss said. "I know you mean well. You wouldn't be here if you didn't. Kids where you're from don't make it to fancy prep schools on scholarships and get second chances. They just don't."

Second chances? Goro crooked a smile. "Before all this," he said. "I never even had a first."

"Aw, hell." Boss rubbed his eyes. "Then you know what's at stake, yeah? Get on the school's bad side, screw up once and you're out of here and back to where you grew up. You don't want to risk your future on what's hearsay. And yeah , I know you believe your friends and if I was in your place I would too. But what can you do? People won't tell you anything because they're too scared to lose what they already have. You can't go to the police because you have no proof, the school won't listen to you, and it's not like that teacher's going to suddenly confess his crimes and give in because you confronted him. That's just how people are, kid."

"Should I stop, then?" Goro said.

"What?" 

He shrugged. "I've been having similar thoughts, to tell the truth. We haven't made any progress. Sakamoto cares, but he doesn't have the sense to back it up. Takamaki and Suzui are both too afraid of what'll happen to each other to help us, and I'm just tangentially involved to begin with. If I drop this case then Kamoshida will leave me alone, and I can proceed the rest of my school year in peace. So, as an adult and my guardian, can you tell me if I should stop?"

A silence. The clock, ticking. A drip of water - he must not have screwed the tap tight enough.

Boss' haggard breathing.

"I didn't say that , kid," he said finally.

"What should I do, then," Goro asked, and to that Boss had no answer.

 That night an app appeared on his phone, and Akechi Goro dreamed.

("Akechi Goro."

Target not found.

"Sakamoto Ryuji."

Target not found.

"Sakura Sojiro."

Target not found.

"Takamaki Ann."

Target not found.

"Kamoshida Suguru."

Target found.

Step one, complete. He let out a breath and laughed - barely.)

"Mishima-kun looked horrible earlier," Takamaki admitted. "I'm... kind of worried."

"He was supposed to send me to Sensei's office yesterday," Suzui said, rubbing her arms. Shivering. "What if..."

"You don't think Kamoshida took it out on him, do you?"

"I don't know." Suzui wiped at her eyes. "We... have practice today. What should I do, Ann?"

"Go home," Goro said.

"But then she'll definitely be cut from the team!" Takamaki looked frustrated.

"Go home," he repeated. "Both of you. I'll figure something out."

"What are you going to do?" Takamaki said.

Honestly? He had no idea. But he had dreamed of the Velvet Room again, and Igor smiled his strange smile and murmured, "Well then, trickster. Shall we?"

"Don't worry," he said. "I'll be fine."

Goro said, "Sakamoto, how do you think Kamoshida views Shujin Academy?" and the Metaverse rippled into reality.

A castle.

A king.

Sakamoto looking around in bewilderment and going, "And how are you so calm about this?! Is this even school or are we dreaming?"

"The latter, probably," Goro said. He heard a telltale clinking noise and grabbed Sakamoto's collar, yanking him back into the shadows.

This castle... dozen cavernous floors of it or so, was surrounded by armoured guards who patrolled constantly. Truth be told Goro had no idea how they hadn't been caught yet, but while the guards were fastidious they had severe blind spots regarding corners. Something about the way they moved made him unsure if they were human or if something stranger lurked beneath their metal garb.

He didn't want to find out for himself. He and Sakamoto were soft and fleshy under their uniforms. Goro didn't even have the excuse of being a former runner to help him if he was caught.

They'd been sneaking through what appeared to be the prison section of the castle and gawking at prisoners who seemed to be... manifestations of the volleyball team? Sakamoto recognized them, though the bizarre ways they spoke in hysteria made Goro's stomach churn. There was something shameless about their honesty, unpleasant and vulgar and raw.

You should just give up, like us.

Volleyball's all I have. Why does it matter if Kamoshida hits me when I screw up? With him we're going to win!

It's so hard... but at least I have a place here.

It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter -

Suzui should be grateful. At least he acknowledges her!

It'll be over when I get to college, right? I can hold on for a little longer...

Volleyball! Volleyball! Volleyball!

"Dude, are you okay?" Sakamoto said, when Goro stopped and bent over, hand clamped over his mouth.

"I'm fine," he gasped. "I just... headache."

"I know. This place makes me sick. It's like they're completely brainwashed."

Goro screwed his eyes shut, then took in long breaths and rose back up. "They've been institutionalized," he said, and walked on.

Losers like Mishima should be glad they're even allowed on the team.

He said he'll give me a letter of recommendation if I help him. I'll help him, I swear...

I told my dad what happened and he said I just needed to toughen up. Is it that easy?

Hey! You two! Are you human? Help me!

Volleyball! Volleyball! Volleyball -

"HEY! Are you listening? Help me escape here!"

They stopped.

And stared.

"Dude," Sakamoto said. "That is a straight up cartoon talking cat."

"I'm not a cat ," the cat hissed. "I'm a human, like you!"

"We're busy," Goro said. "Sorry."

"STOP!" it howled as they hurried past. "Do you even know where you're going?"

"Nope, bye!" Sakamoto said, and kept walking.

Goro stopped. Sighed.

"Wait."

"Dude. Cat. Talking."

"The only one so far who isn't moping or armed to kill," Goro said. "Let's get information out of it, if nothing else."

"... fine."

The cat narrowed its eyes as they came back. "So you're helping me after all?"

"We didn't say that," Sakamoto muttered.

Goro cleared his throat. "So... what are you, exactly?"

"I'm a human ," the cat insisted. "I just... lost my human form! I must have done some bad things in the past to become like this, and now I'm trying to turn back." Its head was... disproportionately large compared to its body. How did it even stand up?

"Right," Goro said. "Do you know what this place is?"

"It's Kamoshida's Palace, of course."

Goro and Sakamoto looked at each other.

"Palace?"

"I suppose that makes sense," Goro said. "It being a castle and all."

"No, it's not because it's a castle - " The cat sighed. "You have no idea about any of this, do you?"

"We're doing our best, okay?" 

"Your best in this place will only get you killed. Unless you help me escape and turn me back into a human - "

"Oh no," Goro said. "Even if we wanted to, I have no idea how something like that is even possible."

"It is . Will you help me escape at the very least?"

"That depends. Are you willing to help us ?" Goro raised a brow. "Since we know nothing about this Palace, and all."

"That's a deal," the cat said.

"Thank you, then. My name is Akechi."

"I'm Morgana," the cat said. "And I'll prove to you both that I'm human."

"Uh," Sakamoto said. "This is great and all, but there are literally guards coming our way, so can we resolve this and get the hell out of here?!"

As it turns out... yes, they could.

 Get imprisoned, that is.

"Thanks for nothing, guys," the cat Morgana said mournfully as Goro and Sakamoto were imprisoned in the cell across.

Goro got manhandled and kicked in the stomach, and whether these guards were human or not, they packed a miserable punch indeed, and he lay semi-fetal on the floor and trying not to vomit up the rest of his lunch.

Sakamoto was being beaten to a pulp because he literally could not keep his lips sealed and mouthed off to the disturbingly robed yellow-eyed and crowned version of Kamoshida one time too many.

So much for Igor. What exactly had bringing the Metaverse App into his life done but come to getting him actually killed?

"Look at you," Kamoshida crooned at Sakamoto. "Now you're really where you belong, Sakamoto - about to die in a dark hole where no one cares about you."

"That's not true," Sakamoto wheezed. "People care. My mom cares..."

Great. He was crying now. Goro was...

Ribs sore. Wrists bruised. His stomach... painful. But the guards weren't paying attention to him, and the cell door was open.

He welled all his strength into his legs and staggered back up. He could make a break for it.

He could escape, and leave Sakamoto behind.

Really? Is that how a hero behaves?

No such thing as heroes, Goro thought. Boss was right. He had just been trying to warn him.

"Your mother!" Kamoshida sneered. "You nearly drove her into an early grave because of the stunt you pulled last year! You broke her heart , Sakamoto."

"Shut up!" Sakamoto howled. "Shut UP, Kamoshida! You don't know anything about me!"

Look at this situation and tell me this is a fight I can win , Goro thought.

Winning? Is that all that matters in life?

It's the only thing people care about.

Is it what you care about?

No one will acknowledge me otherwise.

"Ah, Sakamoto. Playing with you has been fun, but I admit, it loses its luster fast. Now, shall we end it?"

He was already out of the cell. He could still run.

You're just the same then, the voice whispered. Disappointed. All your life you wanted someone to protect you, and when you have the chance to protect someone else, you -

"Shut up," Goro whispered. "You have no idea hard this is."

He was weak. He could barely even stand right now.

But my dear friend , the voice murmured. Did you think heroism would be easy?

It should be. His whole life was unbearable otherwise.

Did you think you could have it all while sacrificing none of yourself?

Have it all? He'd never had a single thing to himself. He wanted to be selfish for once.

Did you receive this second chance only to hoard its gift all for your own desires?

"My desire," Goro gasped, "is to live for me and no one else."

Do you believe it, truly in your heart?

Yes. Yes, gods yes -

Then face your friend and watch him perish.

He turned to Sakamoto, and saw him stare back with tears streaming down his bloodied face.

Help me.

Goro closed his eyes.

"Now, then! Guards, kill him!"

" Enough ," said Akechi Goro, and then his whole body burst asunder.

To live a life for oneself and oneself alone is a small and petty dream.

Succumb to such desires and you affirm only the worst of what people have always believed about you.

Are you a breaker of chains, or a worshipper of despair?

Do you rail against injustice, or swallow it whole and let it consume you?

Show me, Akechi Goro... show me what mettle you're truly made of!

Show me your justice!

"What..." Kamoshida stepped back in fear. "What are you..."

I am thou, and thou art I...

"Pierce the veil of injustice," he spoke, and knew his heart was true. "And attack! ROBIN HOOD!"

The guards perished.

Kamoshida fled.

"What..." Sakamoto managed. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

Goro smiled. "Like it?"

"Like it? Dude!" The boy rubbed his throat feverishly. Bruise marks, Goro thought, and was prickled with guilt. "You kicked their asses and saved me! Plus, your getup - "

"It's flashy," Goro said. "But somehow..."

"It fits," Sakamoto said. "Just don't poke my eyes out with that thing, alright?"

Oh, yes. Apart from the surreal red-white-gold marching band-esque outfit Goro had on now, he was also wearing a red mask with a sharply prolonged nose a la Pinocchio... or Igor, possibly. Something to think about later.

"I wonder if I'll get something like that here."

"I'm not sure if you should. Tearing that mask off was possibly the worst pain I've felt in my life."

"Oh. Well... you looked really cool when you did it though?"

"Thanks," Goro said wryly.

"Uh, EXCUSE ME?" Morgana hollered from across the room. "Did you two forget I existed or what?"

"Oh... that guy," Sakamoto said. "Yeah, what do you want?" Despite his brash tone, he walked over to Morgana's cell with a limp.

"That feat..." The cat stared at Goro. "You have a Persona!"

"A what now?" Sakamoto said.

Morgana rolled its eyes. "A Persona . I have one too. It's the manifestation of your true desires given power!"

"My true desires?" Goro said.

Was his true desire not to save himself after all, but Sakamoto?

Huh.

"If you don't even know that much, then you won't stand a chance the next time Kamoshida comes for you," Morgana said. "So... please help me escape, and I'll share all my knowledge about the Metaverse with you! We could even take him down together!"

"Very well," Goro said. "Morgana."

The cat preened in relief. "Akechi."

"... Ryuji," said Sakamoto.

As it turned out, Morgana did have a Persona, and while it was comical to watch this bobble-headed cat knife Shadows (what the guards were actually made of) and blow them away with the Persona called Zorro, he was far more adept at fighting than Goro... and his skills were useful outside of battle too. The healing skill called Dia somehow fixed most of Sakamoto and Goro's injuries, the bruises melting away from their skin in some instances. It was pure magic, and if Goro wasn't so fatigued he would have been all over its mind boggling potential.

Yet Morgana was soon tapped out, and when they reached their first safe room, it was time to call it quits.

And then they were in Shujin again.

Robin Hood? Goro thought, and heard gentle laughter echoing in his mind.

Stay the course, young one.

Right.

"That..." Sakamoto lurched against the wall. "That wasn't a dream, was it?"

"Unless we had a mutual hallucination, I doubt it," Goro said. "Also... what should we do with all this?"

He was referring to, of course, their bags and pockets full of cash and strange trinkets they'd accumulated during the Palace.

"We could sell it," Sakamoto said. "Though I have no idea who'd take this kind of thing."

"I'm not sure either. At least the money will be useful."

Possibly more than everything else he'd discovered today. Money from fighting Shadows?

Oh, yes .

"Here." Sakamoto started digging out stuff and handing it over. "You did all the fighting anyway. Keep it."

"All of it?"

"Yeah, man! Plus, you said you're poor, right? Get yourself something nice."

"Buy something for me too," Morgana squeaked. "Like sushi!"

"Like su - what?" Sakamoto spluttered. "You? You're still here?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Morgana swished his tail, now officially a cat in the real world, but with the same blue-black fur. Oh, and he was somehow still able to communicate with them. "I left Kamoshida's Palace too, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but somehow I thought you'd just disappear..."

"Well, I'm not disappearing. I'm going to get my human body back, and the two of you are going to help me. And buy me sushi."

"Sorry. I'm all out." Sakamoto emptied his pockets for show. "My mom's gonna freak if I get home too late, so I gotta jet anyway. See you tomorrow?"

"Sure," Goro said, and looked down to an expectant Morgana.

"I'd like some fatty tuna, please," the cat said, and it went downhill from there.

"You're late," Boss said, when he got home that night. Leblanc already closed when he got there.

Goro's stomach was uncomfortably full of good sushi, and he still had twenty thousand yen in his wallet and a sleepy cat nestled on top of a heap of knick knacks in his school bag. "... sorry," he said finally. "I was studying at school and lost track of the time."

"Is that why you have a bruise on your jaw," Boss said.

"Yes," Goro said.

"And why your bag is squirming?"

"Is it? I hadn't noticed."

"Let me see, then."

"I'll have to decline," Goro said, then stopped. Boss finding Morgana was one thing, but the stuff beneath him... would he think Goro a thief? Was it worth raising the suspicion?

Maybe he had a soft spot for cats. He lowered his bag and unzipped it carefully, whereupon Morgana poked his head out and said, "Oh? Do you live here or something?"

Goro held his breath, but Boss only gave a snort. "I'll be damned. A stray collecting strays now, is it?" He got up from his chair and scratched Morgana behind the ear. "Do you even know how to take care of this thing?"

"I am not a thing!" Morgana snapped. "I'm a human, and - "

"He can't understand you," Goro said under his breath.

Boss shot him a look. "You talk to it too?"

"It's a boy," Goro said. "And... yes." He thought about how to handle this. "Let him stay just for a few days. I'll keep him in my room, and feed him myself. He won't get in your way."

"I'm not in anyone's way - "

"He's already got a mouth on him, that's for sure," Boss said. "... fine. Just tell me how do you intend to feed him? I'm not spending any money on cat food, I'll tell you that much."

"Good!” said Morgana. "As if I would even eat that dreck."

Having seen the cat scarf down a whole piece of salmon in one bite, Goro could only agree. "I'll... recycle," he decided.

"You'll do what now?"

"The deposits on cans and such are pretty high nowadays, don't you think?" He smiled. "Plus, it'll get rid of littering. A win-win solution."

"... sure, kid," Boss said, and went out to have a smoke.

 "How was your encounter in your first Palace?" Igor asked him that night.

"Strange," Goro said. "But unsurprising."

"Oh?" A lift of that thick white brow. "How unusual an opinion."

"I've dreamt of wilder things," Goro said, and was pleased to hear the man chuckle.

A slam against the bars of his cell. "Don't talk back to our master, inmate!"

Ah, sweet Caroline.

"I wasn't," he said. "I was just sharing my thoughts. Which were asked for, by the way."

"Insolent!" She hit the bars with her rod again.

"... Caroline," chided the cool-blooded Justine. "You forget; he is a prisoner, and we his wardens. To succumb to emotion is beneath us."

"Of course, Justine. You heard that, inmate?"

"How could I ever forget," Goro said with a smile.

"Your rehabilitation continues..." Igor intoned, and let him fall back into deep sleep.

Chapter Text

3. Steal Kamoshida's heart

Mishima flung himself off the school roof.

Suzui wept. "I don't understand. What did we do wrong?"

"Damn it!" Sakamoto kicked a railing. "What the hell! I thought we had it under control."

"It looks like Suzui wasn't the only one Kamoshida was targeting," Goro said under his breath. Suzui gave out a sob, and Takamaki gave him a bitter look. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was tactless of me."

"You're right," Suzui whispered, sinking to her knees. "I shouldn't have skipped practice. I should have gone to his office when he told me. It's my fault Mishima-kun got hurt. It's my fault - "

"Shiho, stop!" Takamaki looked like she would burst into tears herself. "You can't blame yourself for what he's doing to other people."

"But if I'd listened to him - "

"Then you'd be the one on the rooftop," Goro said. "Understand? Not Mishima. Nothing else would change."

Takamaki began to cry.

"Holy shit, dude," Sakamoto said, turning red. "Don't say things like that."

"I'm being cruel," Goro said. "But Suzui-san, you cannot blame yourself for things outside of your control. Consume too much of someone else's sins and the weight of it all won't leave room in your heart for anything else." He bit his lip. Medics crowded around Mishima's prone body now, and through the shocked din of the other students in the courtyard they could not see if he was still breathing or if a white sheet would be placed over him soon.

"In this world," he found himself saying, "you can only save yourself."

"Stop it!" Takamaki welled her hands into fists and hit him - weakly - on the shoulder. "You're such an asshole, senpai. Come on, Shiho. Let's get out of here."

"Yeah," Shiho sniffled, and the two of them chained their arms together and hurried past Goro to the courtyard exit, where they slammed headfirst into Kamoshida.

"Suzui? Takamaki?" Goro heard the teacher say, and whipped around - alongside Sakamoto and half the student body. The girls rushed past Kamoshida and fled, and the teacher looked at the crowd to see over a hundred pair of haunted eyes gawking back at him.

The whispers broke through like a crack in a dam rent asunder.

It's him...

Everyone knew Mishima was weak. Why did Sensei have to push him so hard?

I can't believe he has the audacity to show up now of all things. Doesn't he have any shame?

Poor Mishima...

Look at him, he's not even ashamed of what he's done.

I thought he only treated Suzui like shit, but he must have abused Mishima too...

Only a piece of shit would pick on someone like Mishima. The guy never even had any friends.

What's wrong with him? He's not even apologizing.

Why is he still here?

Why doesn't he say something?

Why is he looking at us like that?

"Good afternoon, Sensei," Goro said.

"Yeah," Sakamoto snarled. "Welcome to ya."

Kamoshida fled, and Akechi Goro followed.

This time, when they entered his Palace they were prepared.

Robin Hood was a gifted Persona, and his Megidola cleared most of the Shadows in their way. The other Personas Goro acquired through negotiation - a real world skill he was pleased to see come in handy in this fantastical place - though weaker, had more common elemental powers that made targeting the weaknesses of Shadows farcically easy once he probed them out first. Morgana was handy too, healing Goro whenever he was injured or physically exhausted. The cat proved his worth.

Persona-less, Sakamoto carried the weight of their supplies: simple food and drink items that in the Metaverse granted them full health and magical capabilities (needless to say, Goro had had a busy morning errand run). From the way he tapped his feet in restlessness whenever Goro and Morgana attacked a Shadow and he had to stay in hiding lest he become a target, he was frustrated about his perceived uselessness... but every army needed its supply train.

Not that Goro said it aloud. He was already on Takamaki's bad side today.

And then it happened.

Morgana missed his attack twice in a row, and Goro had foolishly wasted his SP testing out weaknesses on the Shadow, leaving no room for Robin Hood's greater strength when it all went to waste. Dear me, the Persona chided, but you are coming close to peril, and so soon in your journey too.

"I know," Goro gritted his teeth as he dragged himself back onto his feet. God, but he was weak - even Morgana had more of a punch.

However will you get yourself out of this one?

Honestly, he had no idea.

"We need to heal," Morgana panted. The Shadow had taken a real charm to kicking him, which left Goro time to think, if not to heal.

(Not that it was doing him any good at the moment.)

"Oh, now this is precious," boomed down a familiar voice. "Look at you little thieves, crawling and gasping just to save your own skins. And where is that whelp Sakamoto? Cowering as usual? I see you, hoodlum!"

Goro wasn't even surprised when Sakamoto leapt out from behind a pillar with a growl and a "Fuck you, man!"

He had a can of Second Maid in his hand. Oh no.

He aimed and flung it straight at Kamoshida's head, where it bounced off without a mark. The Shadow clutched his brow and groaned nonetheless... which was funny, even to Goro. Would he bleed if cut? None of the other Shadows did, yet they weren't the rulers of this Palace...

(Yes, he'd done a lot of note-taking last night, interrogating Morgana about everything Metaverse-related until they'd both gotten to sleep dreadfully late. Suffice to say Goro was gaining an understanding of how things worked in this unreality.)

"Insolent wretch!" Kamoshida flung out his arm, and behind him even more Shadows popped into existence in black plumes of smoke. Great. "Execute these thieves and let their bodies rot!"

"Aw, hell no - " Sakamoto surged forward, but the Shadow that had been pummelling Goro and Morgana to pieces blocked his way, and the ones Kamoshida had summoned stomped down the gilded staircase and loomed over them like a guillotine.

Well, young one, it has been a good run, Robin Hood murmured to Goro.

It sounded like he was laughing.

Fucker.

"Sakamoto," Goro snarled, clutching his ribcage. "Get out of here."

"What? You've gotta be kidding!" Sakamoto's fists were tight by his sides. "You and Morgana are gonna die if I don't do something right now - "

"What can you even do?" Goro said, and Kamoshida laughed.

"That's right, Sakamoto. What can you do? All you've ever been is a leech to others. You destroyed the track team because of your weakness, and it wasn't enough, was it? Now your friends will die here, and you can do nothing about it, again."

"Shut up," Sakamoto said.

"We'll be fine," Morgana managed through bloodied fur.

"Just go," Goro said, and felt something warm and wet and red slick down his face.

"Shut up." Sakamoto sank to his knees and clutched his head. "Shut up, all of you. Stop telling me I'm weak." Veins began to pound in his temples. "Stop telling me I'm useless." Spit dripped from his open mouth, his heaving heart. "Stop telling me I can't do anything to even help my friends!"

 Goro closed his eyes to shield them from the coming flame. He knew what was coming.

 When he came to, the Shadows were gone, and Sakamoto was advancing upon Kamoshida with an enormous skeleton pirate looming over his costumed shoulders. The Persona appeared to be goading him on, lightning crackling around the two of them, dancing on the tips of Sakamoto's gloved hands.

Oh, Goro thought. This should be interesting.

"Ryuji? Is that you?"

Never mind.

Sakamoto turned to the interloper. "Ann?" he spluttered. "What - what the hell are you doing here?!"

Kamoshida backed away and began to run, and Goro thought oh no you don't. He gathered up the last of his strength and whipped out his arm. "Silky! Bufu!"

It did near-nothing in damage, and the Shadow vanished with a poof of smoke. It made him feel good though.

Goro was truly out of steam. He collapsed onto the red carpet and rolled onto his side, breathing in slowly.

Morgana dragged himself over and whapped him on the face with his paw. "Akechi! We agreed not to kill him."

"Did we," Goro said in a daze.

"Akechi? Senpai?"

Oh, yes. He sat himself up and took his mask off to see a pale and wide-eyed Takamaki staring at the lot of them.

"Sakamoto can explain," he said, and flopped himself back down.

Once they found themselves another safe room, Sakamoto explained the situation in between bites of fried bread and chugging down several cans of 1UP, while Morgana interjected whenever he found the boy's explanation too careless. Goro chewed his bread in a more dignified fashion, and Morgana looked much better once he drank four Waters of Rebirth in a row, though he nearly spewed it all back up when Goro told him what the secret ingredient was.

Takamaki took the news of the Metaverse considerably well, though her gaze kept straying to and fro Morgana, as if his presence was the hardest to explain - especially when he used Media in front of her, and suddenly both Goro and Sakamoto's postures perked up and half their bruises disappeared in an instant.

"I have to ask though," Goro said. "What are you doing here, Takamaki-san?"

The girl's hands tightened in her lap, and she bit her lower lip before admitting, "... actually, I came to chew you out. For what you said to Shiho before."

"Oh." Deserved, in that case.

"But - " She looked around the safe room as if the security of it might dissolve around her. "If you have powers like that, then I guess I can see how you feel that way."

Goro cleared his throat. "No, you were right. I got ahead of myself... and I'm sorry."

Her eyes crinkled when she smiled. "Say that to Shiho, and maybe I'll consider forgiving you."

"What... uh, what about me?" Sakamoto said, wiping breadcrumbs off his jaw.

Takamaki laughed. "You were cool too, Ryuji."

"Oh. Thanks." He pinked. "I meant you, though." Looking at Goro. "About the whole saving only yourself thing."

Had it bothered him too? Curious.

"You saved me," Goro said. "Us. We wouldn't have made it otherwise. So... thank you."

Strange, how his heart didn't feel resentful saying it. Was this what being part of a team was like?

Could he want this kind of selfless feeling to last?

He remembered Igor's words: Bonds of friendship you make along the way will assist you in ways more than you can possibly imagine, if you choose to pursue them...

Something to keep in mind.

"Another Persona will be useful to the team," Morgana said. "And with..."

"Takamaki," she said. "But you can call me Ann, if you like."

"Oh! Yes!" The cat leapt up onto the table and did a full bow. "My lady."

Goro coughed.

"You too, senpai."

"No, I didn't mean... not like that."

"Admit it," Morgana said, eyes glittering. "You were jealous for a moment, weren't you?"

"I refuse to acknowledge that with a serious answer - "

"So you were!"

"Uh, guys?" Sakamoto fidgeted, hands in his pockets. "I was thinking... should we be using our real names in here? I mean, I know Morgana told us the real Kamoshida doesn't know what his Shadow's up to, but it still feels kind of wrong. What if someone else comes in like Ann and finds out who we are."

"You are all wearing masks, after all," Takamaki said. "Even Morgana! Not in a bad way, though. You look super cool."

The cat preened in pure delight. "I bet I look even more dashing as a human. You'll see when I get my body back!"

Goro contemplated the idea. "What do you have in mind?"

"Code names," Sakamoto said, pure teeth in his smile. "So, my outfit's all metal biker and hard-edged, so I was thinking something like Fang or Striker, or - "

"Skull," Goro said absently. When the boy looked at him, he added: "I was thinking about your Persona. Captain Kidd? Your mask as well..."

"I like it!" Morgana said.

"It is hardcore," Takamaki said. "Ryuji?"

It took Sakamoto a moment, but then he nodded. "Yeah, I dig it. What about you two?"

"For myself, I believe..." Morgana was deep in thought. "I got it! Milord!"

"I am not calling you that," Sakamoto said.

"What about Black?" said Takamaki.

"Just because of my fur? Too obvious!"

"I suppose Lechat is out as well," Goro said.

"Now you're just being mean!"

("Lechat? What is he talking about?"

"Ryuji, I only speak English. I have no idea!")

"What about..." Takamaki put a hand on her chin. "Mona! Short for Morgana, of course."

"That's not even a real code name," Sakamoto said.

"No, I like it," Morgana said. "It's... elegant. Like me."

Takamaki beamed.

"What, just because Ann suggested it?"

"No, dummy! Because - well - "

"It suits you," Goro said, cutting the argument short.

"Really. You're on his side too."

He shrugged. "It's hardly if Morgana is the same as you and I. Ah, in terms of how we came to our situations in the Metaverse, of course. A code name denoting rarity is befitting our most experienced... and mysterious member."

"Why... nicely said! You know, I'm starting to like you!"

"Uh huh."

"Two out of three, done!" Takamaki looked to be having more fun than the rest of them combined. "What about you, senpai?"

"Pinocchio - " said Sakamoto.

"Do not finish that sentence," Goro said.

"Why not? It makes sense - "

"No," he said, and did not brook argument.

"Ace!" said Morgana. "You're our ace up our sleeve. Since you can use multiple Personas and cover our weaknesses."

"You did get your Persona before I did," Sakamoto said.

"Thank you," Goro said. "But I already had something in mind."

"Ooh," Takamaki said. "We're all ears."

"Crow."

"I see - Crow? Huh?" She pressed her glossy lips together. "But your outfit is so..."

"Gaudy?" He smiled. He knew how ridiculous it looked, especially when he was bellowing out orders and flailing his arms about like a hapless conductor.

"Stylish. I was going to say stylish." Takamaki grinned. "Come on, senpai. I'm a model. I would kill to wear extravagant stuff like this."

"Lady Ann is right!" Morgana hopped up to him and stared him up and down in intense thought. "Something more leaderly is appropriate for someone with your ability. No offense, Skull."

"You know what? No offense taken."

"Something like Prince," Morgana said.

"I like that too," Takamaki said, clapping her hands together.

"Thank you," he said, leaning back in his chair. "But I've made my choice. Crows are... how do I say this." He picked up his mask and examined it. "They have a reputation as carrion eaters... animals that consume the dead. And as thieves. Dirty, and irritating, and a bad omen. In a sense, they've been cursed since the day they were born.

"Like me."

The room fell quiet. Takamaki made a small o with her mouth.

"But," Goro continued, "symbolism is just that, after all, and despite their unjust reputation crows are terribly intelligent, almost akin to the minds of apes. They can remember faces for years on end, they can solve problems, use tools to get what they want... and despite their limitations, they sometimes even get the better of humans." He smiled. "I respect them immensely."

Goro stared at his mask, pricked his gloved finger with the tip of its nose. Manifestation of the Metaverse's reality as it was, it was too dull to pierce through.

For better or for worse, it was only a mask. And masks only hid the true self.

Never revealed them.

(Lucky, for him.)

"Well said," Morgana said.

"Crow it is, then," Takamaki said, and turned away, her gaze misting over.

Sakamoto got up and came over. "You're the real deal, Akechi," he said, and punched him on the shoulder.

On the way out, Takamaki said, "Wait, what about me?"

"What? You want to come back here?" Sakamoto said.

"Well, apparently you didn't have a Persona when you came in with Sen - Crow either, so why can't I?" She set her teeth on edge. "I want to beat Kamoshida to a pulp too. For Shiho, and Mishima-kun, and damn it, for me! I'm sick of having everyone else defend me while all I do is cry about it. I am not going to cry anymore while I still have a chance to make things right."

"Your choice, leader," Morgana said, and leapt into Goro's arms as the Metaverse dissolved around them back into reality.

He was an ordinary cat when Goro looked down at him, then at Takamaki.

Really, he had no idea how something like this would work out. Three was company, four a crowd.

And yet, when had he ever had a surplus of allies in his life? Enough to be able to pick and choose? Really, Goro?

"Welcome to the team, Takamaki-san," he said, and the sweet bell of her joy and laughter sent Robin Hood rumbling in approval somewhere deep and dark in the abyss of Goro's mind.

Very good, young one. A true hero never demeans; only uplifts. Now you understand.

Shh , Goro told him, and walked with them all to the station. They all had separate places to be, and yet, when Sakamoto said, "So, are we finally getting some ramen together or what?" his heart was too full to deny him.

Takamaki ate three bowls of ramen and an extra-large platter of gyoza. Where did it all go? How was her waist so small? When Goro pigged out (rare as it was, unfortunately) it showed on his body. Was her stomach a part of the Metaverse too?

When she went to the bathroom to freshen up, Morgana sighed. "I'm in love."

"Dude. No," Sakamoto managed through his mouthful of noodles.

"Why not? I'm a catch!"

"Yes, you are," Goro said without thinking and leaned down to scratch the cat on the head.

Morgana didn't even protest. "See? At least Crow gets it."

"You know birds and cats are like mortal enemies, right?"

"What! They are so not! Crow, tell him!"

"I'm baaack!" Takamaki sashayed her way over. "Chef, another plate of gyoza, please!"

"Ann! We do not have the money," Sakamoto hissed. Glaring at Goro: "Stop her!"

"My treat," Goro said, and didn't stop smiling all night.

"You're late," Boss said.

"Mm," said Goro.

"Again."

"Yes."

"Should I be worried?"

"No."

"Is that a scratch on your arm?"

"Yes."

"Kid, what are you even doing."

Goro stopped washing dishes and thought about it.

"Making friends," he said, and laughed when Boss spluttered in disbelief.

Kamoshida threw down the gauntlet.

"I know it was you. Keep interfering and you'll be expelled by next month. All of you."

"Yes, sir," Goro said. Smiling.

"You haven't seen the last of us," Sakamoto promised. He was all gritted teeth and clenched fists, this one. "Just wait."

Takamaki stepped up to the plate. "Keep your hands off Shiho or else."

Kamoshida sneered. "You too, Takamaki?"

"Yeah." Her hands were like fists, were like missiles and guardians, the promise of untapped power and the love of a friend. "Me too."

 "Mishima-kun sent me a message," Suzui said, clutching her phone.  "He'll be all right. But..." she hesitated. "He'll have to learn how to walk again." Her gaze flooded with tears, yet she refused to cry. "I'll never forgive Sensei," she whispered. "Not for as long as I live."

"Thank you for telling me," Goro said. "And for what it's worth, I agree."

Kamoshida threw down the gauntlet, and the Phantom Thieves of Heart rose to seize it.

Out of rage and righteous fury rose Panther from the ashes and her alluring and dangerous Carmen. Her whip tore Shadows to pieces, and her laugh when she prevailed was as wild as it was serene.

Skull roiled with energy tense and inspiring; he was their berserker, their heavyweight and backup when all else failed. Shadows underestimated him at their own peril. Goro never did.

Winds of strength and healing wrapped around Mona like a fresh vine around its mother tree. His words uplifted them as high as his gifts. Perfect as always, Panther! You did it, Skull! Executed with style, Crow! When fatigue and exhaustion overwhelmed them, he was their reason for perseverance; from his fountain of generosity they drank religiously.

And Crow...

Crow sweet-talked Shadows and got them money, items, allies.

Crow got them out of traps and security warnings, figured out puzzles in a flash and gave the order to flee when a battle toppled over into chaos.

Crow covered their bases and equipped the party, kept them fed and watered and fully stocked when a Palace prowl approached.

Crow was their leader.

And Crow was madly, exuberantly, deeply... happy.

Crow said, "Let's send the calling card, shall we?"

 The King fell, and Panther stayed her hand.

"People like you don't deserve to go out in a blaze of glory," she spat out, tears streaming down her face. "When we take your Treasure, you're not going to be a hero. You're not going to be a martyr." She choked out her last words. "You're going to be held accountable."

"I know," said Kamoshida Suguru. "And I am so sorry. Nothing will ever undo what I have done to you."

No, Goro thought. But it would be interesting to see how he atoned nonetheless.

 At home, nursing an ice pack on her knee and KGB49 playing on her earphones, Suzui Shiho typed in a question for a poll and clicked confirm.

It was for a website she had just created. She couldn't help but sing aloud, then laughed until she cried when she realised what she was doing.

For the first time in years, since she met Ann and made a friend, outcast to outcast, she felt free, free, free -

The Principal threw the calling card down on his desk, and Nijima Makoto cringed.

"Sir, I don't know anymore about this than you do."

"That's not acceptable , Nijima. Find out more."

"Yes, sir," she said, and bowed her head.

"I'm... not allowed flowers, actually," Mishima Yuuki said in a thin voice as he greeted them from his hospital bed. "Allergic. They get me pretty sniffly."

"Oh! No problem," said Ann, who without looking shoved the bouquet of pansies at Ryuji, who without looking shoved it down the garbage bin.

It rattled and nearly tipped over. Halfway out of Goro's school bag Morgana groaned. "Nice going, Ryuji."

"Was that a meow?" said Mishima, perking up. "Did... did you bring a therapy cat?" He smiled. "I love cats. How did you know?"

"Hey! What are you - " Morgana protested as Goro unzipped his bag and pulled him out, planting him firmly on Mishima's lap. "Oh, but you owe me SO much sushi later - "

"Lucky guess," Goro said, and winked.

"What do you think about these so-called Phantom Hearts of Thieves claiming to 'steal people's hearts', as it were?"

"They have style, I'll give them that."

"Some say their calling card even resembles your Third Eye insignia. Do you think they're copying you?"

"Maybe. Either way, I find their work inspiring."

"But they're in direct competition with you."

"There's enough injustice in the world to go around. I'm not threatened. Besides, even I wasn't aware of this Kamoshida and his actions. If the Phantom Thieves have brought him to account, then I'm on their side all the way."

"That is a strong statement of support."

"It is. But think about it." A carefree shrug. "The police never followed up on the case despite numerous anonymous tips. The school administration was clearly defending Kamoshida from the legal consequences - how do you explain their silence on the matter before he turned himself in? His victims couldn't rely on the authorities meant to protect them from predators like him in the first place. A group like the Phantom Thieves must have been their choice of last resort - and they chose brilliantly."

"Do you think the Thieves might be students of Shujin Academy themselves?"

"It's too soon to tell. This is only their first public case, after all. I'd love to investigate myself if I have the time." Perfect smile. "But either way, things must be very interesting at Shujin right now."

"I agree. And that'll be the end of our show. Thank you for being with us, Kurusu-kun."

"Thank you for having me."

 Click.

"Nonsense," Boss huffed, putting the remote away. "People can't accept someone having a change of conscience, so they have to make up some group of thieves who steal hearts to justify it? Reality's not interesting enough for them?"

"True enough," Goro said agreeably, wiping the counters of Leblanc down. "No matter how much the truth demands to be listened to, some people will never believe what's in front of them with their own true eyes."

Are the Phantom Thieves real? YES

6.6%

phantom thieves? this is a joke right?

if they're real i'll eat my hat on livestream. promise

smh got up early to watch kurusu drag them but he bought 100% into their bullshit

Lol did you expect Mr "Fuck The Cops" himself NOT to support a group that totally apes his style? He loves this shit.

If things at Shujin are as bad as the rumours say then no wonder the students support them.

do they tho? or this your friend on a bike telling you this?

Kurusu vs Phantom Thieves go!!

steal your heart more like steal your girl amirite

Any more shitposting and Admin is gonna delete this thread.

Um you know this forum has like 3 threads rn?? Delete WHAT

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Meh I prefer Kurusu. At least he actually investigates stuff and doesn't pretend his magic powers are doing it all for him.

Uh the fucker pretends he has a third eye that senses evil and shit and that's why he solves so many cases and middle-fingers the police every chance he gets.

yeah well if you were a super hot teen prodigy genius who takes down scumbags for fun you wouldn't give a fuck about authority either lol

WTH?? Kurusu is sixteen??? so keep that shit to yourself???

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So... Phantom Thieves amirite?

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Did anyone get to read the calling card? Some big words up in there!

yeah i kno right fucken nerds

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The Phantom Thieves are real, and they saved me.

And I'm pretty sure I know who they are.

um DEETS??

bitch if you don't spill

guys he's trolling come on. their first case and someone already knows their identities? BS

I'll prove it. Just wait.

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welp. either way, i'm rooting for you phantom thieves!!

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Chapter Text

4. Prove your existence to society

"And what do you want?" spat the surly store owner with as much love and tenderness as Morgana when Goro "accidentally" woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, then studied in the living room until three in the morning.

Smiling, Goro held up a gold medal and said, "I heard you're willing to buy second-hand goods?"

The man narrowed his eyes. "On occasion, yeah." He stuck his hand out, and Goro passed the medal over and waited.

A snort. "This shit ain't real gold."

"Oh." So much for the Thieves' get together extravaganza.

"But it's not of bad make either." The man looked up. "Thirty thousand yen."

"Done," Goro said. The pad of bills the man tossed him over were crumpled and faded, but not... well. He could replace them at a bank.

"I have some other things, actually," Goro said. "If you'd like to take a look."

And then the police showed up.

A police. A single plain suit. Stay calm. The man wasn't here for him.

The owner Iwai sent Goro out with a shady brown bag and some excuses Goro forced himself to support for his own sake. "Get out of here," the man grunted, and Goro could not agree more.

Naturally, when he looked inside the bag and found a gun staring back at him he could only pinch his nose.

"Please tell me that's not real," Morgana said from half-inside his school bag.

"He does own a model weapon shop," Goro said. "We should get back to the others, in any case."

"Uni or bust!" the cat cheered on.

"You've tasted uni?" Goro said as he began to walk back to Shibuya Station.

"You haven't?" Morgana said, scandalized. "Oh, I have so much to teach you..."

 Uni.

Red bream.

Fatty tuna.

Salmon.

Salmon roe.

Lava cake.

Brisket.

Creme brulee.

Wagyu.

Ribs.

Pancakes.

Pancakes!

Pancakes .

Goro stared down at his third plate of perfect, fluffy, golden-brown, heavenly pancakes smothered in butter and cream and maple syrup and fresh strawberries, and sighed.

"So... good," Ryuji moaned, holding his stomach as he rocked himself back and forth on the plush red chair he was sitting in.

"Can't... eat... any more," gasped Ann in a pitiful chord, desserts piled high on the table before her. Her teeth were stained nearly black from chocolate, and it was perfectly fine.

"Mamma mia ," said a sleepy Morgana, who'd devoured so much raw seafood it was very likely he was at least ten percent liquid mercury in body weight. Did he need to go to the bathroom? Was he capable of doing without it?

"Life is good," Goro said simply, and ate.

"Dude," said Ryuji. "I did not know you could put away that much food."

"Waste not, want not."

"That made sense... I think."

"Eight thousand yen a head," Goro said. "Finish everything ."

"I have never been so happy to be a freeloader," Morgana said.

"Yeah, we know.”

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ryuji! People are looking at us!"

"Well, it's his damn fault for talking when he's a - "

"Oh, look at the time," Goro said. "Talking when you could be eating."

Ann gasped. "You're so right. We only have half an hour left. Let's eat, people!"

"Ugh, no." Ryuji sank into his chair. "I'm exhausted."

Goro nodded. "I'm quite content with this," he said, cradling his plate protectively.

"Lady Ann, I can keep going!"

"Thanks, Morgana. But I'm pretty sure cats are lactose intolerant. I'll just have to eat all these desserts by myself!"

"But I'm not a cat - "

"Bathroom." Ryuji leapt out of his chair. "I need. Bathroom. Now. You come."

"... I suppose I am being gluttonous," Goro said. "Can I leave Morgana with you, Ann?"

"Sure!" she said, then widened her eyes. "Senpai. You just called me Ann! For the first time!"

Oh. "Did I?" After Kamoshida's Palace had been destroyed, he'd stopped thinking of them as Takamaki and Sakamoto. It seemed... odd, to keep that level of formality when the three of them were thick as thieves, after all.

Morgana was Morgana.

"Did... you not want me to?" he said, when Ann didn't say anything further.

"No! I mean, it's great." She smiled. "I'm happy, you know? Especially someone so serious like you..."

"Yeah, he's a real stick in the mud," Ryuji said loudly, slapping an arm around Goro's shoulder and propelling him forward. "Bathroom! Boys' talk! Bye!"

The bathroom was closed for service.

"You have got to be goddamned kidding me..."

Goro's stomach began to grumble in a distressing manner. "Stairs, Sakamoto," he said. "Now."

"Oh, so she gets to be Ann and I'm still Sakamoto - "

"Stairs," said Goro, and it was Crow speaking.

"Emergency," said Ryuji. "Got it."

Ten worrisome minutes later, and they both felt much better as they waited for the elevator down, though when Ryuji ribbed him about Ann and any prospective feelings towards her platonic or otherwise Goro wished acutely for death to come over him. Him or Ryuji it didn't matter.

"Man, this is taking forever. What the hell is taking so long?"

The door opened just after that statement. Goro stepped forward only for a man to block him with his arm. "Proceed, sir," the suit said, not even acknowledging him as a tall bald man walked past, surrounded by bodyguards.

His throat closed. Oh.

Oh no.

"Hey, what's the big deal?" Ryuji said. "We were here first!"

He brought his arm up to grab the suit's shoulder. Goro shot out his own, grabbing his forearm before any damage was done.

"Let it go, Sakamoto," he said in a small voice.

"Dude, they're cutting in line - "

"It doesn't matter," Goro said.

The bald man stepped into the elevator, taller than all his guards. He had an earpiece on and spoke into it, though what he said Goro could not remember.

When the man looked at him, everything was a void in between space and time.

Goro was obliterated, and breathless.

He blinked. The door closed, and the elevator went down.

"What the hell, man," Ryuji demanded. "Why didn't you back me up? He cut in line, you saw it - "

"I," Goro said dumbly, then put a hand to his temple. "I... don't know why."

His friend's attitude died at once. "Hey. You okay there?"

"I just..." He had no idea what to say next.

"I must have eaten too much sugar," he said finally. "I heard it can give you headaches."

"Seriously? Let's get you a place to lie down, then - "

"No, no." He shook his head and fought the urge to stumble. "I'm fine now. Let's just go back to Ann and Morgana."

"Sure," said Ryuji, watching him with cautious eyes. "Sure. Whatever you want, dude."

When the next elevator came up, he made Goro go first, and lean against the wall for stability. It was pathetic, being cosseted to because of a minor headache, but letting Ryuji fuss over him was better than arguing about it.

It was the price of friendship, after all, and it was paying dividends at last.

Goro just wondered why it had to be now.

"Ogawa-sensei?"

"Goro? Is that you?"

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry I haven't called in a while."

"No, no, it's fine! Don't apologize. You must be busy with your studies anyway. How are you? Your guardian's not too strict, is he?"

"Not at all. He's nicer than he looks, believe it or not. I don't have a curfew anymore, and... I'm doing well at school. I made some friends."

"That's so great to hear. I'm so proud of you."

"Yes... yes, I..."

"Is something wrong? You don't sound like yourself."

"I... uh... I beg your pardon, I'm having a hard time putting this to words."

"Take your time, Goro. Do you remember your breathing exercises? When you used to get mad..."

"I remember, yes. I'll... Sensei, I'll just say it. I saw him again today."

"Him? Who?"

"Shido-san."

"Oh - oh no. Tell me: what happened?"

"It was only for a moment. And he didn't recognize me. At least, I don't think. I went to a buffet with my friends, and I saw him there, and I… I don't understand. I thought I was over it by now. That I'd... let go of such feelings."

"He's your father, Goro. It's been years since he acknowledged you - "

"And threw me away. For the second time."

"... yes. And I'm sorry you had to experience it again, today."

"It's not your fault. You let me see the truth for myself, then."

"Did I? You were so young, and I was so naive to think that just because he sired you, he'd... I'm so sorry."

"It's alright. If you hadn't helped me find out what he was like so soon, I might have... still harboured delusions about him."

"Like wanting him to take care of you?"

"Like wanting to kill him."

"..."

"Hating him so much I couldn't think about anything else but how best to tear him to pieces."

"..."

"Being so consumed with rage I didn't care if I drove myself mad trying to get revenge on him, over and over and over again."

"..."

"Sensei?"

"Goro..."

"I don't feel like that anymore."

"I know. Goro - "

"You know what I felt like today?"

"What did you feel?"

"Scared. I was scared of him, when I wasn't before. I don't understand. Why now?"

"Oh, child. I'm so sorry."

"Is it because I have something to look forward to in life now? Because I have a home, and friends, and a real school life? I'm not sure."

"Maybe that's it."

"It's awful, then."

"Why? What is?"

"At least when I was angry, I felt in control of myself. Like nothing in the world could define me but my own wrath... my all-consuming need for vengeance against the man who wronged me and... ruined my mother's life. Now I'm not angry... and I feel like trash."

"You're not trash, Goro. Today was just an unfortunate coincidence. You'll never have to see him again if you don't want to."

"Sensei?"

"Yes?"

"He's running for Prime Minister."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"I know, Goro."

 That night, he picked up his phone and whispered into the Metaverse App, "Shido Masayoshi."

Target found.

Fuck.

Fuck!

"Fuck," he said, and let his phone drop onto the floor.

Morgana jolted awake on his duvet. "What? What?!"

"My apologies," Goro said. "I was just - bathroom."

"... you're going to study in the living room again," the cat said in a cold tone.

He shrugged. "I have to keep my grades up, or we're both going to be out of house and home soon."

" Fine ," Morgana said. "Just for an hour, alright? We have to look for our next target soon."

"I promise," Goro said.

 "You look like shit," said Boss the next morning, when he came downstairs. "Did you even sleep last night?"

"Of course I did," said Goro with shadows under his eyes, and drank his coffee straight.

"Don't look behind you," Ann said under her breath as they went up the train escalator. "But I'm pretty sure we're being followed."

"Where? Where?" demanded Morgana. "Lady Ann, I'll gladly defend your honour! "

"While we're in the real world, leave defending to the humans, please," said Ryuji.

"What, you and Crow? And no offense, Crow, but - "

"None taken," said Goro. He needed to work on his fitness.

He needed to do a lot of things right now.

They made it up to the street, and the guy was still following them. "Please, not after Kamoshida," Ann said. "I cannot deal with this right now."

"Hold on, I'm thinking!" Ryuji hissed. "Akechi, get in formation."

"Are you serious - fine," Goro said. Remember, it was his choice to continue spending nearly all his waking moments with a pair of second-years and a magical talking cat, and no one from his actual grade. No wonder people still didn't talk to him during lunch break.

"I'll claw his eyes out if he gets too close," Morgana said. "I swear upon my own heart."

"Okay," Ann breathed out. "Thanks, guys. Here goes!"

And half a minute later, the prime stalker himself was duly apprehended and looking very offended as he stared at them.

"I... beg your pardon?" he said, and Ryuji nearly choked.

"Dude... he talks like you."

"He does not," Goro said. Smiling. "Sir, are you aware that stalking and harassment are against the law? Proceed any further, and - "

"What!" The boy snatched his hand away from Ryuji, scalded. "I am nothing so vulgar. I am an artist, and I wish merely to draw your friend, and - "

"Aw, hell no!" Ryuji got into a fighting stance. "You're just like one of those creeps in Shibuya who rope girls into scams and mess them up, aren't you?"

"Girls?" said the boy. He looked at Ryuji, then Goro, then finally at Ann behind them, nervous but willing to throw down if absolutely necessary. "Oh," he said. "Oh no, you are profoundly mistaken. Your female companion is indeed very welcome to look at - "

"Weirdo," mumbled Ann.

" - but the person I was referring to was him."

Looking right at Goro.

"Oh," said Ryuji.

"Oh," said Ann.

"No," said Goro.

"But think on it!" The boy stepped forward. "The contrast in your appearance is... impressive. Your clothes! So kempt but clearly of inferior make; passed down from another, perhaps. It speaks of a story. Light brown hair; what a colour even in modern Japan, and the length! It cannot have gone unnoticed by society. And your face! Your smile is immaculate, but so severe; it lacks imperfection. And your eyes - what sadness lurks in their depths? I must know more at once. Please, take my card and contact me as soon as possible!"

He held one out with both hands out, his head formally bowed.

"You must have mistaken me for someone else," Goro said in a voice colder than ice. "I am as exactly as I appear to be. And I have no desire to take your card."

"You heard him. Beat it," said Ryuji.

"I cannot," the boy said. "I must - "

"Yusuke! Where did you run off to in such a hurry!"

A stylish black car rolled up, and an aged man in plain kimono exited and walked towards them with a disapproving aura.

"Sensei," said the boy Yusuke. "I beg your pardon, but I saw my newest muse and could not help but pursue him at first sight."

The man's gaze turned to Goro and his party, and the set of his lips flowed downward.

"I see," he said.

"No muses!" Ann said helpfully. "There are no muses here. We should be going anyway. Right, guys?"

"But my inspiration - "

"Yusuke, please," said the man, and bowed low to them. "I beg indulgence for my pupil's... eagerness. He has been in an artistic rut lately - "

"Yes," said Yusuke, nodding besides him. "It has been a source of considerable frustration to me."

"Won't you understand a young artist's impulses?" said the man. "He means no harm by it."

"Uh, sure," said Ryuji. "Whatever." He looked uncomfortable, and Goro could not blame him.

"Very well," he said, resigned. "But I still have no interest in any of this."

"I see," said Yusuke. "There is truly no way to convince you?"

"Perhaps the muse needs only to be inspired himself," the man said. "My latest exhibition will have its first showing in a few days. Come and see what is on display before making your choice."

"Yes, Sensei. That is wise indeed." Yusuke held his hands out again. "Tickets! For model and company."

"... if you insist," said Goro, aware of how churlish he would come across now if he declined.

"Thank you," said the man. "Now, we must be off. Come, Yusuke."

"I hope to see you all very soon," Yusuke said, and bowed once before taking his adieu.

The car drove off, and the four of them stared until it could no longer be seen in the distance.

"We're not actually going to that exhibition," said Ann. "Are we?"

Goro looked down at the tickets, and saw the artist's name.

Madarame Ichiryusai.

The boy Yusuke's sensei.

"We are," he said, defeated. "Unless we wish to miss out on a gallery painted by the greatest artist in all of modern Japan."

 "I'm so glad you could make it," said Kitagawa Yusuke the next time they saw him. He saw Goro in his best, beige dress coat included, and beamed. "I appreciate your dressing to the occasion. It speaks of your innermost refinement." Looking at Ann. "You are very elegant as well."

"Oh," said Ann, mollified. "Well, thank you!"

Looking at Ryuji. "You may look at the art as well, but please do not touch or come within five feet of them. The paintings are one-of-a-kind and any impurity would irrevocably damage the value they possess beyond repair."

"... thanks."

"Well, partner, you wanted to come, so." Ryuji slapped Goro on the shoulder. "Speak your fancy talk to art boy over there so we can get the hell out of here asap."

"Sakamoto. You did not have to come," said Goro.

Ryuji's eyes bugged out. "You and Ann and Morgana were all gonna be here, and I wasn't? This might as well be a Pha - "

Goro jammed a foot down on Ryuji's, hard.

"Ow! What the hell!"

"Finish that sentence in public and I will end you," Goro said, smiling as pleasant a smile as a smile could be. "There are at least three hundred people in this one building alone. You will show discipline."

"Me and Ryuji are going to look at the paintings over there," Ann said, and dragged the boy away. "Come on, dumbass."

"How unpleasant," said Kitagawa, when the two disappeared into the crowd. "Do you always spend time with such a person of that nature?"

Goro closed his eyes and took a long breath. "His speech is vulgar," he said. "But his heart is true."

"Is that so? Perhaps I misjudged him, then." Kitagawa's gaze glittered in provoked contemplation. "Come. Let me show you the finest of my sensei's latest creations."

Morgana kept silent the whole time (was he just sleeping?), allowing Goro's attention to wander as Kitagawa, to his credit, explained every painting they encountered in their stroll with perfect detail.

Despite the nonsensical nature of this situation, Goro was beginning to enjoy himself.

"You speak with such knowledge of every piece," he said. "They should have commissioned you to write the artist's statements."

"Oh, but I did!" Kitagawa said, proud as a feather. "Sensei chose me to do the honour himself, and I can only hope I lived up to his expectations."

"Well," said Goro. "You are his pupil, are you not?"

"I am." Kitagawa glowed. "Although... at the moment, there is only I in the atelier."

"There used to be more?" An artist of Madarame's caliber and a workshop full of pupils seemed like a recipe for madness, but perhaps the artist was as supreme a teacher as he was a painter.

"Oh, yes! We were nearly a classroom's worth, at one point." Kitagawa's smile lessened. "But not everyone appreciated Sensei's teachings. Nor could they understand that he cared for their welfare sometimes more than they did, and now the house is quiet when once it was loud."

"You miss the company, then?"

"Entirely," said Kitagawa. "The vibrancy... the passion of other artists-in-training - their desires and fears the same as mine - " he hesitated. "I was never alone, then. We shared everything. Food, supplies, our frustrations... when we were disobedient, Sensei even punished us together!" He laughed a low and lilting laugh.

"Collective punishment," Goro said. "I used to hate it."

"He would instruct us to read a textbook from beginning to end, even if we knew it by heart a hundred times before," said Kitagawa. "Little did he know that we often hid volumes of  manga behind the bookshelves, and read them together when we were ostensibly repenting. We amassed quite a collection, in the end."

"I... see," Goro said, and looked away. He couldn't possibly imagine.

He saw a painting in the distance with no one near it. "That one," he said. "Tell me about it."

Kitagawa followed his gaze. "That?" he faltered. "I am not sure that piece will be to your liking."

"Don't be ridiculous," Goro said. "What good is a work of art that seeks only to appeal to one's existing sensibilities?" He needed a distraction, desperately. "Enlighten me."

"Yes... I suppose I shall," said Kitagawa, and trailed him to.

The painting had struck Goro's interest at first because of its wild, potent colours - purple here, yellow there, red and black and even a little blue. It was... chaotic, and honestly did not appeal to his sense of aesthetics. Yet he kept his gaze on it, and soon realised what about the painting was so unusual compared to the rest.

The other paintings in the exhibition were landscapes, depictions of scenes in nature. Mountains, lakes, rivers, forests. Painted in gentle, neutral colours befitting traditional work. They could have been painted on rice paper, the depictions were so delicate, and the brushwork so light.

This painting depicted a mountain too, but the mountain was a deep purple; the moon above it black as an eclipse, and oppressive. The sky was streaked thick with red and yellow, the paint so thick Goro could see the various layers and crevices even from his position. The painting needed a thick canvas simply to hold its own weight up.

"This," he said. "Is different."

Kitagawa said nothing.

Goro looked at the artist's statement nearby. "'Asunder'," he quoted. "I suppose that's appropriate. But why is the statement so short?" He raised a brow at the taller boy. "With your gift of vocabulary I find it difficult to imagine you had nothing to say about this piece."

"I... am sorry to disappoint," Kitagawa said. "Inspiration strikes my Sensei at a moment's whim. Mine... less so." He sucked on his bottom lip. "But you - what do you think of it? Is it to your taste?"

Goro smiled.

"If I may be so blunt," he said. "No."

"Oh." Kitagawa winced.

"I can't claim a formal education in the arts or even more than the cursory research I did on your master's work before I came here today," said Goro. "So, speaking frankly from my heart and little where else, I find it difficult to recommend this piece to another. The colours are bold, yes, but aesthetically they go poorly together. The paint seems slathered on to the point of waste, and the depiction of a world sent asunder is one note. Cliche. It imports no greater understanding to the viewer of the subject they might not already possess. Looking at the degree of polish in this work compared to the others in this exhibition, I find it hard to believe what your master was thinking when he chose to show this piece today at all."

"O - oh," Kitagawa said in a strangled tone. "I see."

"That isn't to say," Goro added, "I dislike it. On the contrary."

"I beg your pardon?" The boy's pale face was truly flush now. "Even after all that, you like this piece?"

"Yes," Goro said. "Of all the works today this is the only one that seems alive. It lives and breathes, seeping anguish from every pore. I can feel the artist's frustration... his passion, or perhaps his despair when it didn't turn out the way he wished." He smiled again, and this time he understood. "It's frustrating, of course, because I can see more of the potential than the realization, but I suppose that's why I keep looking at it - it keeps asking me why. Why did the artist paint what he did? Why would he break style in such a way that would provoke more hostility than appreciation? What was he thinking?"

He let the knife sink in.

"What were you thinking, Kitagawa-san?"

"I," Kitagawa swallowed. "I was..."

"You've lived with him all your life," Goro said, gentle as a lamb. "And you know the rumours about him better than anyone else."

"Rumours, you say," Kitagawa muttered, but unsteadily. "When you say rumours, you mean..."

"I looked up your work too," said Goro. "I'm not sure why this painting is in his exhibition and not yours."

The spell broke. "You lie," said Kitagawa, and staggered back. "You - don't accuse Sensei of such a fiendish thing as - as - "

"As what?"

"Plagiarism!" Kitagawa shouted, and cut through the gallery like a blade through helpless flesh.

Silence. People looking at them in shock, mortification - some with base curiosity.

And like that, it was over. Conversation flowed back into the room like a lazy wave, and they were forgotten with deliberate intent.

Save by one.

Maybe, Goro thought, as the artist himself rushed over to them, he had overdone it.

"Yusuke!" Madarame demanded. "What on earth are you yelling about? And with your purported muse of all people?"

"I beg pardon," Goro said, smiling. "We had a... passionate conversation."

"Passionate. Yes," said Kitagawa, swaying on his feet. "I... beg pardon, Sensei. I may need to lie down for a bit."

"Go, Yusuke," said Madarame with a scowl. "Go!"

"Mine as well," said Goro apologetically, bowing. "Just one question, great master."

"You have agitated and distressed my pupil," said Madarame. "I am not sure I wish you to barb me as well."

"It's no barb at all," Goro said. "I just wanted to know what you thought of this painting. 'Asunder'."

"This?" Madarame gave the piece a lookover. "I painted it in a time of great anguish to me. I am glad I was able to turn that misery into something ultimately so productive. Is that what you wished for me to say?"

"How much are you selling it for?" Goro said.

From the artist's dignified face, the smallest hint of a sneer. "I am afraid a mere boy like you could never afford it," said he. "Now I must be off to speak to other guests, and bid you farewell."

"Yes," said Goro. "I thought so."

 "Boy am I glad you're on our side," said Ann, when they regrouped later and the exhibition was over. They leaned against the railing of the Shibuya passageway, crowds passing them by in the afternoon rush without once taking notice.

"So you knew this whole time something was up with this Madarame guy and didn't tell us?" Ryuji scowled. "Why not?"

"I only discovered the allegations about him when I researched his work for today," Goro said. "I thought it might be useful to determine if they were true or not, and Kitagawa's reactions proved more provident than expected. And please don't take this the wrong way, but neither of you are proficient actors."

"I won't disagree with that," Ann said with a sigh.

"Yeah, but still..." Ryuji jammed his hands in his pockets. "Feels like we're not a team when you keep shit to yourself, you know?"

Goro blinked. "Well, did you enjoy yourself, at least?" and received two blank stares and a burr of disbelief coming from his school bag.

"... no, dude," said Ryuji. "That stuff flew over our heads and you know it."

"Oh." He chuckled. "My apologies, then."

"Crow had fun," Morgana said. "I could barely sleep with all that chattering going on!"

"Yeah, with Kitagoaway too." Ryuji grinned. "You like him, don't you?"

"I'm afraid you've misinterpreted my interest in the subject entirely," said Goro.

"See, he always talks cryptic when he wants to hide stuff from us!"

"It seems like you want to look further into this, senpai," Ann offered.

Guilty as charged. "It's... self-indulgent," Goro admitted. "And perhaps not on the same level of vulgarity as our previous... acquaintance."

"Well, I'm not sure." Ann bit her nail. "Are the Thi - I mean, we... does it matter who we go after as long as they've committed some kind of sin against others? If what Kitagawa-kun told us about the former pupils and this plagiarism thing is true - doesn't this mean Madarame's hurt a lot of people? Who knows how many years back this could go?"

That... was true.

"Don't forget," said Ryuji. "He needs a Palace too, right?"

"Or a Shadow in Mementos," Morgana piped up.

Mementos. That discovery had been enlightening. Well, they couldn't prowl Palaces every other day, and it was good for experience - and when Goro's funds ran low. Now that he was allowed out in the evenings, he had discovered a few more avenues of supplying them for their Thieving adventures, including a cynical doctor who ran a one-woman clinic on the backstreets of Leblanc (and was possibly ostracised by the rest of the medical community, but let him have discounts on medicine in exchange for him doing her paperwork and very, very, very rarely letting her try experimental medicines on him for "studying"), selling more haphazard junk to Iwai and buying model guns in turn (Goro had yet to acknowledge the brown bag incident though), working on his physical stamina with Ryuji after school so he no longer struggled to keep his head up after a mere hour or two of Mementos, model training/therapy with Ann, learning to make coffee and curry with Boss, and responding to the occasional change-of-heart requests Suzui made of him after she had made that ridiculous Phansite to support the Thieves.

Goro hated the idea of something as asinine as a popularity poll on a forum populated by the mouth-breathing idiots that made up the general public, but Suzui had worked hard on it, and after all that had happened to her, he could only smile, smile, smile! and tell her he was grateful for all she was doing to encourage the Thieves.

(The requests weren't a terrible idea, however.)

"We could check the Metaverse App," said Ann. "If Madarame's name lights up, then we go for it. If not..."

That was probably the best way to proceed things. "Not here, though," said Goro. "I..." He hesitated. "I can do it myself. I'll tell you tomorrow if something comes up."

"We got the app on our phones too, remember?" said Ryuji.

"How could I forget."

"Just... we're a team," he said. "You know? Don't keep us out of the loop."

"I know, Ryuji," Goro said.

The blond's mouth dropped. "Dude..."

"You did it!" Ann said. "First name basis with everyone now."

Goro scoffed. "May I remind you I am your senior and at school you should refer to me as senpai - "

"Whatever, Goroboy." Ryuji pulled out his phone. "Come on, group selfie."

"I will not - "

"Aw!" Ann threw her hands around the two of them, pulling them close together, and Morgana jutting out of Goro's bag to make it in the shot. "You don't have to be so shy, dear leader!"

"I'm not," Goro said in a strangled voice, yet when Ryuji all but shouted, "Smile!" he couldn't help the shameful Pavlovian response in him. His face slackened; his eyes grew soft, and his mouth, pressed tight and thin, melted into a tentative smile that looked upon the camera as if it was a new friend.

To those who had known Akechi Goro as a rudderless and empty child, a half-wild thing born of despair and cast aside a thousand times, they would have laughed in disbelief and told you he was faking, as he always had.

To those who knew him in the future as the once-leader of the Phantom Thieves and a top student, a master of all trades and beloved friend of many, they would looked at the photo and said in surprise, "I never knew he used to be so timid. Look at him now."

And to the one who loved him more than the sky and sun, more than the heavens and all the gold on earth, that person would have looked at the photo and simply remarked, "He looks happy."

What did Akechi Goro think of this photo, the first he had ever taken with friends - with the first people he could ever call friends in his life?

He made it his phone's wallpaper, then changed the passcode.

He then stared at it all night long, and went to sleep with a smile on his face.

Chapter Text

5. Check on the Madarame rumours

Madarame had a Palace.

Goro could feign disappointment, since he had briefly admired the artist - but that emotion dissipated the moment he did his research, and suspicion overwhelmed all else in his mind. So even the great masters succumbed to the worst of impulses, in the end.

The morning after, he called Kitagawa and apologized.

"I'd like to model for you," Goro said while cracking eggs in the kitchen. "Any time, any place."

"Oh," Kitagawa exhaled on the other side, his breath patchy and distorted and soft. "That is a tremendous relief. I accept your apology and will gladly paint you with all my might. Let me text you Sensei's address right away."

Even better.

"Please be discreet," Kitagawa told him. "We will have to work when Sensei is not at home. After the exhibition, I am afraid he was disappointed in you. I am still young and easy to forgiveness, but Sensei is prideful and does not wish you near."

"Kitagawa-san," Goro murmured. "My lips are sealed."

 "Akechi-kun. There you are."

It was lunch break, and Goro was half-reviewing his English textbook and half-working on making lockpicks. Unfortunately, his pathetic sense of proficiency meant half the picks were botched before he could even finish them, but at least Morgana wasn't clawing the inside of his desk out of despair anymore. He was improving.

He looked up at the speaker and smiled. "Nijima-san," he said, setting his book down over his work. "How can I help?"

Nijima looked more frazzled than the last time they'd interacted nearly a month ago. Her posture was stiff, and she fidgeting with her fingers.

"I'd like to show you something, if I may," she said. "Would you mind coming with me?"

"I'd be delighted," Goro said, and got up, aware of Morgana watching him as he left.

Nijima led him out the classroom and to a bulletin board near the school entrance. "Here," she said, pointing to a white sheet. "What do you think, Akechi-kun?"

He leaned closer and studied it. "A suggestion board for students to express their wishes anonymously, supported by the Student Council." He looked at Nijima. "This is new, I presume."

"Yes. The Principal asked me to put it up and make it my personal project."

"You're already Student Council President, and the top of your own class," Goro said. "It's a bit excessive for extracurriculars, don't you think?"

"No! I'm proud to be a part of it," she said. "But you're right. It is a lot of work, and..." She sighed. "As you can see, the students have not been holding back on how they feel."

Indeed. From complaining about dirty toilets to the unfairness of midterms quizzing you more on random anecdata than knowledge relevant to the now, to the yakisoba pan racket to privileged access to the rooftop ever since the Mishima incident (FREE SHUJIN FROM THIS TYRANNY! ROOFTOPS FOR ALL!! the person added in red marker, to be exact), the list went on and on.

"Some of these aren't even related to the school," Goro said.

"True," said Nijima. "But if they concern the students' well-being, it would be unfair to dismiss them outright." She rubbed her temple. "Look at the most recent complaints."

Goro did, and oh dear.

Accusations of bullying, and theft.

Shady characters in Shibuya promising large amounts of money for easy work (a scam? Drug running?).

Stalking. Abusive relationships, and parental mistreatment.

"I wonder what brought this on," he said under his breath.

"Ever since the Phantom Thieves arrived, opinions at the school have been more charged," said Nijima. "It's like... a restless energy has overtaken us all. I suppose the students feel empowered to complain about things in a way they might not have before."

Goro smiled. "Well, let's be frank. It wasn't so much the purported Thieves as much as it was the overdue downfall of Kamoshida-sensei... whose allegations you yourself denied when I spoke to you last."

"I did," said Nijima, resigned. "Would you like an apology, Akechi-kun?"

"Oh, I don't care," said Goro. "I'm just curious... did you really not know?"

"... or was it more beneficial for me not to know, considering the circumstances," said Nijima. "That's what you're thinking."

Goro crossed his arms and waited.

"Any answer I give to you now will seem self-serving," said Nijima. "And the truth is I knew and didn't know. I knew of the rumours, as most of the student body did. But nothing was ever confirmed, and if I had sought anyone out myself they wouldn't have told me." She closed her eyes. "No, that's dishonest. I never even tried to find out. I shouldn't pretend as if it was other people making it hard for me."

"In your defense," Goro said, "I'm sure many of the alleged victims had reputations that spoke against them as well. Compared to a former Olympic champion of a teacher, who would choose to defend the delinquents with awful home lives, reckless behaviour and... loose sense of morality?"

"You did, Akechi-kun," Nijima said, string right at him.

"Nijima-san, you forget. I have a reputation as well."

"You were right, though. You were a transfer student with no friends and no power, and I was Student Council President. The Principal's favourite." She grimaced. "I should never have been afraid to do the right thing."

Goro was still.

"Nijima-san," he said. "When you take on the power granted to you by authority, you also take on its existing chains and burdens. Someone in your position, even as a student, cannot afford to be a rock thrower. You are not an agitator, but a flagbearer."

"I have to uphold the school's traditions," Nijima said. "Even when I personally disagree with them."

"Right," Goro echoed. "Expressing public dislike, refusing to go along with consensus, taking on the language and manner of a rebel while in such a role... it would be dishonest beyond measure. A betrayal of the principle itself."

"You make it sound like I should quit and start pummelling gang leaders in the street," Nijima said wryly.

Goro grinned. "Please. I don't have to live up to any of your expectations, so I'm welcome to say as I like. You know yourself better than I do, in any case."

"Of course." She smiled. "I may have misjudged you, Akechi-kun. And for that I am sorry."

"I did antagonize you for my own amusement our first conversation," he said. "So really, it's no skin off my back."

"Oh. Apology retracted, then."

"There is one thing, though."

"Pray tell."

"I," said Akechi Goro, "do have friends. Three of them, in fact. Four, if you include my parental guardian."

"Your guardian!" That made Nijima chuckle. "I see. Well, if I may be so bold as to get to my original proposal - "

"Please do." He was curious too, and certain of where it led.

"This suggestion board. I'd like your help on taking care of it." Her expression grew serious. "All of it."

"And in exchange...?"

"I wouldn't make you give your days for free, of course," said she, and Goro thought, days? "You'll receive a letter of recommendation from the Principal to any college of your choosing, and extracurricular credit. I may also be able to call in a few favours and get you a free period every now and then."

"Call in favours?" he said. "With whom? The teachers?"

"Akechi-kun. Be realistic," said Nijima. "We both have the best grades in our year. We can miss a few classes without losing our positions. Besides," she added. "I saw what you were making when I came in. I didn't know you were into metalwork!"

Ah. Smooth, Goro. Very smooth. Did you think an upright book in the way would stop her?

"I'll have to look into my schedule," he said. "I can't promise anything upfront, of course."

"I understand. I may be unavailable some days as well."

"But," he said. "As I said before, I do have a reputation in this school. One I find largely unpleasant, and wish to get rid of." He smiled. "If performing a few good deeds and easing the minds of students will do the trick, then I see no reason to refuse you my services."

"Excellent!" said Nijima, and held out her hand. "Do we have a deal?"

"We have a deal," said Goro, and shook her hand.

 Was she onto them?

No, Goro thought as he made his way to the Madarame address. Despite the Thieves' continual struggle with the concept known as keeping secrets in public, they'd kept their meetings far from the school. He had been able to divert their conversation from the Thieves easily as well, and Nijima's interest in the suggestion board seemed genuine. Some of the frustrations were close enough to requests he got from Suzui to the point of double-dipping, and those extra perks were tempting.

Did he expect a letter of recommendation from the Principal, in the end? Not a chance in hell. But a free period would be useful indeed. Despite his training with Ryuji, he was sore from Mementos every time he went down the endless distorted floors, hardly able to do much when he came home but cover his lower half in ice packs in the evenings while Morgana berated him if he so much as looked to his door for a moment of freedom. He needed time to catch up on his studies, make lockpicks, replenish supplies.

He could admit privately that talking to Nijima had been... fun. He'd been childish the first time they met, prodding her for sheer lack of better things to do. She was clever, like him; willing to recognize her flaws and acknowledge them without much in the way of self-consciousness (something he had yet to achieve in seventeen long years of existence), and many of her thoughts mirrored his, even if they came from a different background and set of beliefs.

Goro realized abruptly that he might appreciate Nijima because she reminded him of himself, and... no.

He would never wear a headband made of fake hair.

 "While I'm in there," Goro said. "I insist you not use the Metaverse keywords on your own. For everyone's sakes."

"Yeah, yeah, we get it!" said Ryuji. "... why though. We already have what we need.”

"That's true," Ann said. "Senpai?"

"It's not enough to go on," Goro said. "Kamoshida's Palace was one thing. We were all familiar with Shujin, but Madarame is a stranger to us, and we'll have no idea what to expect from his distortions. We need to be fully prepared before we break in." He ran fingers through his hair again. "Compact, please."

"You look fine ," Ann said, handing it over so Goro could inspect himself in its mirror. "I model all the time, and once you get used to it it's just like posing at home. Plus, you have great bone structure."

"It's adequate," Goro said, staring at his pores. "Morgana?"

"Armed and charged, Crow," said his feline friend. "Though I'm not sure about these lockpicks of yours. Are you sure they'll work?"

"They'll work." He closed the compact and gave it back. "Shall we?"

"Knock 'em dead," said Ann, and pumped her fist in the air.

"Just glad it ain't me," Ryuji muttered, as they approached the front door.

“Ryuji, we're all glad it's not you.”

"You're here!" said Kitagawa.

His gaze slid over.

"And... your merry band of companions too, I see."

"Sup," said Ryuji.

"Sorry to bother you," Ann said, holding up a heavy plastic bag full of goodies. "We brought drinks and snacks!"

"That's kind of you. But I was hoping for a less... festive setting with my muse?"

"I understand your concerns," Goro said. "But I hope you can forgive a few of my own. I've never done this before, and though I trust you, to go into the house of a stranger and... make myself vulnerable for several hours is a nervous prospect."

"I... see," said Kitagawa, as if it had never occurred to him how dodgy his request might seem otherwise. "You are all from Shujin, as I recall?"

"Exactly," Goro said. So even Kitagawa knew of the scandal. “You grasp my meaning, I hope."

"We'll be super quiet," Ann said.

"To be honest, you can just leave us out in the hall," Ryuji said. "We'll just play on our phones or whatevs."

"I... shouldn't let people wander around Sensei's abode when he isn't here," said Kitagawa. "I must - if I allow this - you must promise me in absolute faith and good conscience you will stay put while I paint my muse and not touch a single thing in the house - "

"Sooo," Ryuji drawled, unzipping his school bag to reveal ten brand spanking new volumes of manga. "You like One Piece?"

Kitagawa appeared to stop breathing for a moment.

"I... could not hold another work of fiction in higher regard," he admitted, as if it was hard for him to speak.

"It'll be like we were never here," Ann said. "Please?"

"... very well. Come inside."

He still looked in a daze, so Goro tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Thank you."

"My pleasure," the boy said, regaining colour. "Your friends are very persuasive."

"I know. Incorrigible pests, all of them," Goro said as Morgana squirmed in his bag, locking the door behind them. "Well then, Kitagawa-san. Do your worst."

"I'd like you to model nude as I draw you. Would that be acceptable, Akechi-san?"

"It... might," Goro said, struggling to keep concentration on Kitagawa sitting on a stool cross-legged with a sketchbook in front of him and not the investigation the others were up to at the moment. "Forgive me, but I thought you were painting me? Why the sketchbook?"

"We'll only be doing the preliminary sketches today, of course," said Kitagawa. "It would be be an unbearable tragedy if I could not recall your every expression and posture when it finally comes time to put thought into paint."

"Yes," said Goro. "But as I recall, what intrigued you first about me was the contrast I presented in my whole self. Clothes included." He smiled. "What is light without dark? Sweet without the bitter? Control without chaos?"

Kitagawa lowered his sketchbook. "It hadn't occurred to me," he muttered. "Of course! I became fixated only on one aspect of you when naturally you are more than the sum of your parts! No wonder you have been in a rut if you cannot grasp even this much, Yusuke..."

There was a crashing sound behind the door.

"What was that?" said Kitagawa.

"On second thought, let me take off my shirt," Goro said.

"Your friends." Kitagawa bit his lip. "It was generous of them to give me all your snacks and manga without keeping any for themselves. Perhaps I ought to share, to show I am grateful for their acknowledgement."

"Please don't," said Goro. "They're well fed at the worst of times. Acknowledge me instead."

"Yes. I see." Kitagawa selected a pencil from his case. "Might you unveil a little more, Akechi-san? Your undershirt, perhaps?"

What, like some dancing courtesan? Goro needed to work on getting information from him at the moment. He could think about posing seriously later.

"I," he swallowed. "I'm afraid I have a few childhood blemishes that prevent me from doing fully what you say."

"Of what nature, might I ask?"

"I beg your pardon?"

The boy lowered his gaze. "Our conversation at the exhibition," he said. "You told me how you disliked collective punishment. It slipped my mind, then, but..."

There was no way getting past this - not if he wanted Kitagawa's trust. Goro deliberated in hesitant, doubtful silence, then said in a soft voice, "I used to live in an institution."

"You're an orphan," said Kitagawa in realization.

"Yes," he said, and kept his hands calm.

"... then no wonder fate has brought us together," said Kitagawa. When he looked back up at Goro his gaze was glistening. "I too, lost my only family at a young age. My mother was a gifted artist who perished soon after bearing me, and I never knew of my father." He bit his lip. "My mother was once Sensei's pupil, and it was he who took me in as an infant in respect of her memory."

"He raised you," Goro said.

"All my life." Kitagawa smiled. "It was he who told me of my mother, what a superb painter she was. How she wished me to follow in her legacy.

“When I was but a boy I used to get into the paints and streak the walls with all my heart desired! And how furious Sensei was when he found out." A laugh, low and light and airy. "Then he discovered I had the same gift as my mother, and I have followed in her path ever since. I owe Sensei everything. Without him, I might have gone to an institution too - and an artist I would not have been then!"

Goro could not say anything for a long time. He could not think, even, but to close his hands into fists and unfurl them finger by finger, until his breathing evened and he no longer saw red, but Kitagawa's trusting smile as he gazed at him.

"I'm sorry," Goro said.

"What for?"

"My accusations. I didn't know the truth of the matter."

"All is forgiven." Kitagawa beamed. "I am sure Sensei will forgive you too in due time, once he sees the paintings you and I have made together..." He bent to his work and began sketching.

Paintings.

Multiple ones.

Together.

"I'm curious though," Goro said, and knew before he opened his mouth how much he could not help himself. "When they're displayed in exhibition, will they be under your name, or his?"

Kitagawa's pencil snapped in half.

"Akechi-san," the boy whispered, and Goro saw - saw, for the first time - how white his knuckles were, how tightly he held on so the pencil’s halves still cleaved as one. "Please do not make a fool out of me."

He lifted his head to look at Goro, and his eyes were dry.

"Why," said Kitagawa Yusuke, "are you really here?"

 Goro's mouth watered.

"Fate... has brought us together," he offered.

Kitagawa shook his head. "My words. Not yours."

"I recognize myself in you," Goro said.

"Did you?" The boy rose to his feet, sketchbook falling to the tatami mat. "When you tore my painting apart, knowing it was mine. Knowing I could say nothing to defend myself to protect Sensei's honour."

"So you admit it.”

Kitagawa's expression dropped. "Every artist falls into a rut now and then," he mumbled. "Sensei's has just lasted longer than most. He never forced me - you must not think that! He asked me." He brought his hands together in prayer. "He always asks me. And I always say yes."

He closed his eyes. "Sensei clothes and feeds me. Because of him I was able to attend Kosei on scholarship, and spend my days refining my art. What does it matter if he receives credits for my paintings now? When I am an adult I will open my own studio, and do my best work then. This - this situation will not last forever! One day I will be an old master myself, and Sensei and I can drink sake and laugh about the old days.

"No," Goro said. "You can't."

He reached down and picked his shirt back up. Slipped it around himself, and began to button it up.

"Why is it," he said. "In all the years of Madarame Ichiryusai mentoring dozens of pupils, have none of them made a name for themselves after they left him?"

Kitagawa said nothing.

"You're not the first student he stole from," Goro said. "And you can't imagine you were the only talented one either. There were others."

"The others never understood," Kitagawa whispered. "They weren't raised by Sensei. They - "

"They knew better," Goro said, and advanced.

"He provided for them. Food, shelter. Everything in the world they needed to paint. Why... was it not enough?"

Goro reached out, and clasped the boy's hands to his own. "Tell me, Kitagawa-san. Why was it enough for you?"

Kitagawa's gaze fluttered shut. What long lashes he had, blue-black like his hair, and so elegant. So Japanese.

Goro did not know what he wanted more: to devour them, or make them his own.

Kitagawa Yusuke had a gift, and he did not.

Kitagawa Yusuke had been used by the person who should have cherished him most in this world, and yet he still believed.

Still believed his master was just, was true, was right, was justified .

It had been a long time since Goro had been so naive. But let us be clear: Goro had never been taken out of the trash heap and polished, if only to be used.

Akechi Goro had been trash all his life, and therefore bore no illusions about his desirability when he finally dug himself back out.

(Even if Ogawa-sensei had helped him along the way.)

Yusuke was tender. Yusuke was weak. Yusuke was a young boy craving his adoptive father's approval.

He could paint something spectacular in his sleep. A painting in his world might be currency as cheap as one-yen coins on the ground; not even worth the strain to pick them up.

Maybe Kitagawa Yusuke did not view himself as a victim after all, it was only Goro's own grudge that pricked and prodded the boy until he lashed out - not at Madarame, but at him.

Maybe so.

Ultimately, it did not matter what Kitagawa Yusuke thought because he was still a child.

He did not understand, as Goro did, the responsibilities of adults over their children.

Over all children.

To shelter.

To feed.

To clothe.

To nurse.

To protect, and comfort.

To teach, and respect.

To raise up, and uplift.

Not to use as a piggy bank and paper over one's own failings in life.

Not to keep ignorant and helpless to the outer world, lest they ever go their own way and succeed.

Not to hobble and keep in a cage as old and decayed and rotten and mediocre as this broken-down old house when the man had made millions off his students' work and left them destitute and in the street -

Kitagawa Yusuke was sixteen, and still a boy.

Madarame Ichiryusai was an old man.

What excuse did he have?

"I want to show you something," Goro whispered, and stepped back.

Kitagawa rubbed his eyes, disoriented. Goro opened the door and called out.

Ryuji and Ann and Morgana emerged from the shadows and into the small room. Their expressions were sheepish, but held promise. Morgana held no lockpicks in his mouth. He must have used them all. Good.

"Brief me as soon as we're inside," Goro said, and Ann nodded.

"Finally," Ryuji muttered. He saw Kitagawa's dumbfounded expression and grinned. "You're not gonna have artist's block after this, I'll tell ya."

"What..." Kitagawa looked mystified. "Are you taking me somewhere?"

"We're going to show you the truth behind Madarame," Ann said, and gave him a small smile. "Don't worry. It was scary for me the first time too."

"Thank God we bought all these extra snacks." Ryuji grabbed the bag they'd left in the room earlier. "Alright, you ready?"

"On your mark, Crow," said Morgana.

"Very well." Goro took out his phone and held it up to his face. "Listen carefully," he said, and looked straight at Kitagawa.

He said, right into the Metaverse App, "Madarame Ichiryusai. Shack. Museum."

And all around them, the world dissolved into unreality.

Chapter Text

6. Steal Madarame's heart

Goro could have predicted Kitagawa would take being transported to the Metaverse badly.

After all, he had just been taken to a fantastically hideous distortion of his own home - depicted in the Metaverse as a gaudy gold museum, red carpet and all - by two hoodlums, a lockpicking cat, and a boy who, for all purposes, were he in a game of diplomacy would always be the first person shot on sight.

Goro could have seen all of this coming, and did.

What he did not predict was Kitagawa fleeing their group in shock and setting off a dozen security alarms, triggering guards all over the museum grounds as he climbed over fences, leapt over hedges, and ran as fast as he could from Goro and company. At least they were already in their costumes; antagonizing Kitagawa at the exhibition had worked inadvertently to get Madarame view Goro as hostile to the sanctity of his Palace immediately. No fussing around.

"So," said Skull. "You want the briefing now, or...?"

Goro fought off a growl and snapped his fingers as Robin Hood manifested behind him. "He's going to die if we don't get to him before the guards do. Now!"

Was that such an honourable choice you just made, to lead him so blindly into this world? whispered his Persona as Goro chased Kitagawa and saw not far ahead the boy surrounded by half a dozen Shadows in monstrous flare. You desire to connect with those you deem an equal, but how you do it is as clumsy as an oaf. How unbecoming of one who calls himself a hero.

"And what do you know?" Goro snarled as he came to a stop. "Megidola!"

The first wave took a whole quarter off the Shadows' health, while in the heart of them Kitagawa looked terrified.

"Akechi!" he called out. "What in God's name is this mad world? Am I dreaming? Am I in hell?"

"Hold on!" Panther's voice rang far and wide. "We'll get you out, I promise. Maragi! "

"Stay calm," Skull shouted above the din. "We're gonna show you what your Sensei's really like, got it?! Kidd! Rampage!"

"Magarula! Time to change his heart, too!" sang Mona as Zorro spun into the air and flung his green wind out like a hundred cutting blades.

"Good heavens," said Kitagawa. "Is that a talking cat?"

The battle was quickly over, and Goro rushed over. Kitagawa was unharmed, save on a minor scratch on his cheek.

"I must be dreaming," he said. "Akechi-san, please. Tell me, where are we?"

He staggered over, Skull grabbing him before he could fall. "Dude, keep it together. You're in the Metaverse, and we're in Madarame's Palace."

"Sensei's... Palace?" Kitagawa stared at the museum. "That abomination is..."

"It's how Madarame sees his house in reality," said Panther. "That shack? He's really not living there with you because he likes to keep things humble." She hesitated. "I know it's hard to swallow right now, Kitagawa-kun, but Palaces represent what its ruler really thinks of themselves and their place in the world. And what Madarame thinks is..."

"He's not a modern master," said Mona. "He's a fraud, and we're going to take him down."

"I... see." Kitagawa looked at Goro. "And you brought me here, Akechi-san? To show me what his heart was really like?"

"Yes," Goro said, and ignored Robin Hood laughing in the back of his mind.

"But why?" The boy buried his face in his hands. "What is so deeply buried in my Sensei's heart that I had to know through methods such as this? "

Goro hesitated. Kitagawa looked tired already, and they hadn't even entered the Palace. At least there were four of them, but they would still need to protect him. And for what? Because Goro saw a kinship in him, he felt obliged to pull him into the Metaverse's radar of lunacy and make him a part of his kiddy squad of troublemakers and after school delinquents?

Was he going to do it to Nijima too eventually, and every other person he felt a remote inkling of warmth towards? Boss? Dr Takemi? Futaba?

Goro forced all these thoughts down into the abyss from whence they formed, and smiled.  "You wouldn't have believed me any other way," he said, and held out his hand. "Come, Kitagawa-san. Let's find out the truth together."

Oh, child!

I am only a being as old as myth itself.

You think you are the first to know me. You are not even the first in your era.

You, summer child of seventeen, think you know better than I?

You, who have not even lived half a year of freedom in your life before.

You, who have known only cruelty most of your small years, and the apathy of your betters.

Brave as you play, you are still an infant.

But of course, you know better than I, your true self and protector.

You Wild Cards always do.

Kitagawa stood in front of a portrait of himself twenty feet tall and ten feet wide, and clutched the red ropes in front that kept them segregated.

"It's even in my own style," he said, when Goro walked over. "How strange. Do you think Sensei ever..."

He did not finish his thoughts.

"Did he ever care for you," Goro filled in for him. "Or did he see you as a vehicle to be used from the day he took you in?"

The boy closed his eyes and nodded.

"I'm sorry," Goro said. "I don't know."

Kitagawa's smile was small. "Yes. I couldn't expect you to. After all, I've lived with him my whole life and it seems I never knew him at all."

Didn't you? Goro wanted to ask. You knew he plagiarized from his students. You accepted the burden, and justified it yourself. To me. Don't you know him better than anyone?

Child and parent, he reminded himself, and kept his mouth shut.

The Shadow of Madarame was a coarse and vulgar thing, even more so than the sleaze of Kamoshida's crown and pink speedo. His kimono yellow as the yellow of his distorted eyes.

"Sensei!" Kitagawa said, and to Goro's disbelief he lifted his hands in surrender and approached the man. "Don't you think it's time to... stop? You're a great master whether you hold new exhibitions or not. Your legacy is secure. These allegations are mere whispers for now, but soon they will spread if we are not careful."

We?

"Kitagawa," Goro said. "He's not your master."

"He is the true self, is he not?" Kitagawa wet his pale mouth. "Let me appeal to him. I can make him see sense."

"He is a distortion ," Goro stressed. "Madarame's desires have warped him beyond belief to the point of becoming this thing. He is not someone you can reason with. Not until..."

Not until you beat him to a pulp and steal what he treasures most in this world.

"You have your methods," Kitagawa said. "Let me try mine."

Behind him, Skull's fists crackled with silent energy. Panther tensed her grip on her whip, and Mona unsheathed his knife.

Goro watched, and thought of nothing as Kitagawa approached the silent Madarame and embraced him.

"Surely," he said in his low lilting voice, "you have made enough money, Sensei. You have been praised in enough publications, you have held enough exhibitions. It was necessary before, perhaps, to maintain your reputation, but now you are adored by all of Japan! What reason is there to continue this charade? Has it not all been enough?"

Madarame lifted his aged hand, and stroked the boy's hair.

"Dearest Yusuke," he murmured as he took Kitagawa's shoulders and squeezed them in comfort. "Blessed child o' mine."

"Sensei," Kitagawa said in awe, and Goro despaired.

Madarame's hand whipped upward and backhanded Kitagawa. " Yusuke ," he said, and a smile unfurled on his face as joyous as rain, as rotten as corpses. "It is you who misunderstand. There will never be enough in this world for me. "

Clouds of black smoke billowed behind him and left Shadows in their wake.

"You want to take away my art, Yusuke?" screamed his master. "My legacy? What gives you the right, boy? What gives you the right to rob me of everything I've stolen from you!

"Shadows!" he bellowed. "Kill them all!"

Goro's heart and mind were as one.

Megidola. Hamaon. Bufula. Diarama. Maragion. Maragion. Guard. Shoot. Critical.

All out attack.

Kitagawa lay slumped on his knees when they went to him, holding a hand to his bruised cheek.

"Let me," said Mona, with Diarama on his lips, and Goro said:

"No."

"Crow," Panther said. "He's hurt."

Goro shook his head. "We need it more right now. Besides, he's mostly just shaken."

"You mean you want to keep going?" Skull looked anxious. "Look, man, maybe we should regroup and try again tomorrow."

"Safe room," said Goro. "At the very least."

"When you see your master again tonight," said Panther. "The real one. He's not going to know what happened in here. So don't be too surprised if he just treats you like normal." She hesitated. "At least, I hope he does."

"Yeah," said Skull. "Wait until he knows you're pissed to take him out, man to man."

"I..." said Kitagawa blankly. "Naturally. Man to man."

"Here," Goro said, pressing a can of Earl Green into his hand. "Drink this before we leave."

"Akechi-san." Kitagawa's hand caught his wrist before he could pull away. "May we talk? In private?"

"Not in the Metaverse," said Mona. "We're protected from Shadows only in safe rooms."

"In... the real world, then," Kitagawa said. "Considering all that's happened today, I think you owe me."

"I do," said Goro. “All the same, I’d rather not get caught when Madarame comes home.”

“You won’t,” Kitagawa promised. “There is a room in the house that is locked at all times. Even Sensei does not access it very often. There… I want to show you something. Something to help you understand both Sensei, and me.”

“What is it?”

“A painting,” Kitagawa said, and smiled. “A painting Sensei never sold. The painting that inspired me to become an artist.”

“The legendary Sayuri,” said Goro. “I’ve heard of it.”

“But never seen in person, surely,” said Kitagawa. “There is no imitation. Sensei does not even sell prints of it. He has allowed me to see it only a handful of times. It might fall apart in the light otherwise.” He lowered his gaze. “I… cannot deny Sensei’s crimes any longer. Not after all those portraits, and his… confession. But once there was a gift in him as sure as the heavens itself, and when he bore it he painted the Sayuri. If you see it - “

“I’ll understand,” Goro said.

“Yes.” Kitagawa bowed his head.

“Kitagawa-kun,” Panther said in a slow tone. “What does this Sayuri look like, by the way?”

“An exquisite young woman with a black braid of hair,” murmured he. “Wearing the deepest red dress, and looking gently downward. What mysteries lie in her tender gaze?”

“When we were poking around the house,” Mona said. “We… may have lock picked open a door or two. And if what you’re saying is accurate, then we’ve seen the Sayuri.”

“You broke into Sensei’s most private sanctum?” Kitagawa looked distraught. “Have you no shame? Akechi-san, your friends are truly something else.”

“It was my idea,” Goro said.

“Oh.” He winced. “I am… disappointed, then. I thought better of you.”

“Yeah, but cool your jets first,” said Skull. “Because we didn’t see the Sayuri, we saw a Sayuri.”

“More than one,” said Panther glumly.

“More like hundreds ,” said Mona.

“Imitations,” realised Goro.

“Oh, please.” Kitagawa laughed. “That is the most ridiculous thing you have said all day. There is only one Sayuri. Sensei would never disrespect his own legacy by making copies - and doing what? Hoarding them all for no apparent reason?”

“It makes sense,” said Goro. “If he’s selling them.”

“They’d have to be to private collectors. It would get out in a heartbeat if it was museum,” said Mona.

“You mean he’s lying to people?” Panther gasped. “Telling them all they’re buying the real Sayuri when they’re all fakes?”

“Seeing that guy in action,” said Skull. “It’s not so hard to believe, is it?”

Kitagawa closed his eyes. “I refuse to acknowledge it. There is only one Sayuri. Sensei would never…”

Goro put a hand on his shoulder.

“Yusuke,” he said, and took off his mask. “Show me.”

“Ah,” said Kitagawa. “I don’t… Sensei, why would you? Your own masterpiece…”

He sank to his knees and wept.

“Kitagawa-kun,” Ann said. “Maybe you shouldn't see your master right now.”

“Y - yes.” He got up with trembling legs. “I have nowhere else to stay at the moment, though.”

“No room at my place,” said Ryuji. “My mom would kill me.”

“The security at my building is super strict,” said Ann. “Plus they know I live alone. They'd call my parents immediately.”

“I live with Crow,” said Morgana. “You could - “

“No,” said Goro.

“Yes,” said Kitagawa.

"My living situation is - "

"This was all your idea, dude," Ryuji pointed out.

He couldn't win this. "Fine. Get your things."

"Thank you," said Kitagawa, and the five of them left that dark room together.

 Kitagawa was packing up his necessities in his room when Goro heard a rattling sound downstairs and swallowed. "We need to hide."

"Oh shit - the closet!" said Ryuji, and ran over to open it. "Come on!"

"You mustn't do that," bellowed Kitagawa as a mountain of old art supplies and books and rags tumbled down onto Ryuji and sent him sprawling onto his back.

"Yusuke! What was that noise?"

Morgana leapt back into Goro's bag, which Ann snatched up. "Senpai, what do we do!"

"Nothing," Goro said gloomily as the door opened and Madarame Ichiryusai stepped into the room and saw them - Kitagawa kneeling in front of a half-full suitcase, Ryuji knocked onto his back with the contents of Kitagawa's closet emptied onto him, Ann smiling frozen against a wall with Goro's school bag suspiciously behind her... and Goro, sitting seiza with a resigned expression and his phone out.

"You," said the artist.

"Us," said Ann.

"Hey there," said upside-down Ryuji.

"Madarame-san," said Goro.

"... Sensei." Kitagawa got up slowly and faced his master. "It's true, isn't it."

"Is what true, Yusuke?" said Madarame, gaze still travelling as he spoke.

"You've been copying the Sayuri." Kitagawa clenched his hands into fists. "I saw in your inner sanctum. The paintings - "

"You went in there?" The artist looked disgusted. "Yusuke. You appall me. Have I not always told you to respect your master's privacy?"

"Why are there so many of them!" Kitagawa shouted. "Are you selling them, Sensei? Are you?"

Madarame grit his teeth. "A child would never understand what I've had to endure all these years. So what if I am selling them, Yusuke? I have every right to. The Sayuri is mine. What right do you have to it as if you painted it yourself?"

Kitagawa's shoulders sagged. "It was the painting that led me to follow in your footsteps," he whispered. "I thought it was sacred to you, as it was to me."

"It is my property , Yusuke. And I will do with it as I see fit."

Goro got up. "Perhaps," he said. "But Kitagawa-san is not. We will be leaving now."

"Got it!" said Ann. Ryuji scrambled out of the mess and wiped down his shirt.

"Sorry," he mouthed to Kitagawa.

"What?" Madarame sneered. "What is the meaning of this?"

Kitagawa bit his lip. "I cannot stay in this house right now. I will stay with a friend, and perhaps - if you acknowledge your sins to the world and atone, I will reconsider coming back. Until then - "

" You ," said Madarame, and stared at Goro. "You did this. That scene at the exhibition. You put him up to this."

Goro held up his hands in surrender. "Sir, your pupil is a thinking man as any other," he said. "If you respect him, you will take his advice - his consideration for you - to heart."

"Consideration." Madarame laughed. "No, I will do one better for you little thieves." His eyes glittered. "Trespassing. Breaking and entering. Destruction of property. Kidnapping ."

"What? Sensei, but I let them in! Surely you cannot - "

"Leave with them, Yusuke," said his master. "And you will see how much I can do exactly as I please."

"I... see." Kitagawa deflated. "You must all go," he said, head to the ground. "There is no point discussing any of this further."

"This is bullshit," Ryuji hissed. "You're gonna let him manipulate you again?"

"Come with us," said Ann. "Please."

"I'm sorry," Kitagawa said. "I've made my choice. Please leave now."

Goro touched him on the arm.

"Akechi-san," Kitagawa said. "It seems all you have done has been for naught. I... apologize for wasting your time."

"Not at all," Goro said, and kept his voice kind. "We'll see you tomorrow, Kitagawa-san."

 He wasn't home when they came the day after.

Nor the day after that.

Trying to call or text was similarly fruitless. Goro received so many automated responses he nearly threw his phone into the trash. Only the thought of inquiring to Boss again - begging troublesome Futaba's help - stopped him from doing any real damage to the little machine.

"Where the hell did Madarame take him?" Ryuji kicked the railing in the Shibuya passageway. "How the hell are we going to do his Palace now?"

"Technically, we don't need him," said Morgana. "There's still the four of us. We could do it today."

"... yeah," said Ann. "But senpai wants him here with us. Don't you?"

Goro couldn't deny it. "Ann," he said. "What if after we came back from Kamoshida's Palace with you the first time, I told you that you couldn't come back and fight with us?"

"I would have been furious," she said. "I wanted to hurt him more than anything."

Even if in the end she gave him more mercy than he ever deserved. "It's the same for Kitagawa-san."

"Is it?" said Ryuji. "No offense, but that guy’s cold as a cucumber. Even after all Madarame’s done to him, he doesn't seem that angry about it."

"Madarame raised him," said Morgana. "No wonder he'd feel torn."

"Yes," said Goro. "But I still want to try. Give me one more day, and if we still can't get in touch we'll go into the Palace without him."

"Sounds good," said Ann. "It sucks that we don't know where he could even be at this time of day, though."

"Wait," said Goro. His mouth was dry. "I remember. He told me he goes to Kosei High."

"That's a start," said Morgana. "But how are we going to sneak in there?"

"We're not. I have an inside source."

"Huh?" said Futaba that evening in Leblanc. "You want me to do what now?"

The girl had been visiting the cafe more and more lately, and staying until closing too. Isshiki-san her mother was a government researcher who worked long hours, and Futaba, despite her (or due to) her attitude didn't seem to have much in the way of friends to distract her. Whenever she came she would sprawl her belongings over an entire booth, typing away on her laptop and snacking the whole time (while Boss didn't say a thing about outside food in the cafe).

Goro mostly ignored her when working, though for Boss' sake he was always polite. Now she looked at him over the rim of her oversized glasses and added, "What's in it for me?"

"I have money."

"What, really? How much!"

"Five thousand yen," Goro said. "To send him a message at school. He doesn't have to respond."

"Interesting," said Futaba. "I want the deets though. You got something going on?" Eyebrow waggle.

"... will you not help me otherwise."

"I don't know! Will I?"

Goro pinched the bridge of his nose.

No Metaverse nonsense. He had already gotten Kitagawa involved because of his... feelings. Futaba was just his guardian's friend's daughter, and as far as he knew no one around her had a Palace or a Shadow to conquer.

"I... want to meet up with him in private. Tell him something I don't want anyone else to overhear." He crossed his arms. "I hope you understand that's as far as I'm willing to divulge private information."

Futaba stared at him with round eyes, and when her mouth opened he cringed in preparation.

"That's... genuinely sweet," she said. "Alright. I'll do it."

Goro sagged in relief. "Thank you."

"Pay me, though," said Futaba, and held her hand out.

"Let me get my wallet."

 He got a text from her during his afternoon history class.

Futaba: Done, done, and done!

Futaba: He said he'd think about it.

Goro: Thank you.

Goro: You have no idea how much this means to me.

Futaba: Oh but I think I do.

Futaba: You have good taste if I say so myself!

Futaba: wink

Futaba: winky wink

Goro: Please stop.

Futaba: ...

Futaba: ...

Futaba: wink

 He was there when they arrived.

"I'm ready," said Kitagawa, and Goro's heart swelled.

 The Shadow told them things.

It told them how Madarame had always felt about Yusuke.

How he felt about his former pupils, his lost apprentices.

About the one who got away too. Yusuke's mother.

The Sayuri was her work.

(Had been.)

Madarame had stolen it from her, as he had everything else.

As he stole Yusuke too, by letting his mother die in front of him.

(What could Goro possibly think about someone like that, save that his lungs suffocated with rage and nothing else - )

 Kitagawa Yusuke said, "I refuse to let this abide," and doubled over onto the ground. Screamed, and clawed his hands until his nails broke away and wept blood and agony.

Goro stared, and was proud as a father.

From the embers of grief and regret emerged the graceful brushstroke that was Fox.

The Artist was nothing in comparison.

Then again, it was five against one.

(Madarame spoke of someone he called a warden. A man in the guise of a prison guard, with a killer's hands and dull eyes.

"You're not alone here," he said, crawling backwards as they approached. "Please! There's someone else like you!")

 "Thank you," said Kitagawa, holding the wrapped Treasure to his chest as the Metaverse melted back into reality around them and once more they were in front of Madarame's shack, and nowhere else. "Letting me decide what to do with Sensei's heart was..."

"It was your decision," Goro said. "And no one else's."

Ann laid a hand on Kitagawa's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. "When we fought Kamoshida, I had to make the same choice," she said. "And it was... tough. I wanted to hurt him so badly for what he'd done to everyone. Maybe even kill him." She pursed her lips. "But that wouldn't have helped my friends get true justice if he died. The school would have covered up his sins, and..."

"It's better this way," said Morgana. "This way, the truth is out and both Kamoshida and Madarame will atone for their crimes."

"Sensei too?" said Kitagawa.

"Yeah," said Ryuji. "It might take him a couple of weeks to come back to his senses, but it'll happen sooner or later." He grinned. "Welcome to the team, by the way."

"Me? A Phantom Thief?" Kitagawa chuckled nervously. "Well then, if you'll have me, I gladly accept."

"Crow, say something!"

"Oh." Goro cleared his throat. They were all looking at him. "Are... you hungry?"

A sound curdled out of Kitagawa's stomach like the opening of a rusted door.

"I," he said, "am famished ."

Itadakimasu .

As the Thieves' orders piled up in the Shibuya diner Goro feared for his wallet, but only smiled when they called over the waitress over and over again. They deserved this. Kitagawa in particular was skinny as a bare branch. He deserved every bite and morsel in the city.

"So," said Ryuji over a mouthful of steak and potatoes, "you going to live in the school dorms now?"

Kitagawa nodded gravely over his second fruit parfait of the evening. "That was where Sensei sent me to stay anyhow, when he ordered me not to see you all anymore. I will come back to check on his status, but I do not deem it wise to associate with him any longer as it is."

Beside him, and feeding Morgana peeled shrimp under the table, Goro said, "We put you in a lot of trouble. I'm sorry about that."

"It's quite alright," Kitagawa said. "I understand your reasoning, in any case."

"You're one of us now," said Ann. "I don't know what's going to happen to Madarame, but we've got your backs no matter what. So come to us if you need help, got it?"

"Teamwork," said Morgana, "makes the dream work."

"Thank you," said Kitagawa, his eyes glimmering with tears.

"Hey, you going to cry on us, man?"

"He's just emotional, Ryuji! Be happy for him!"

"I am, I am! Just - where are the napkins already?"

"Here, Kitagawa-san."

"Thank you, Akechi-san."

"Good! You're here," Boss said when Goro entered Leblanc later. "I need to run an errand for a bit. Mind closing for me?"

"No problem," he said, and walked past a customer to go behind the counter.

"You hire a part timer, Boss?" said a low voice as Goro put away his school bag and slipped his apron on.

"As if Leblanc gets enough business for one," Boss scoffed. "This is Akechi. He's the scholarship student I told you about earlier."

Goro tied his hair up in a ponytail and smiled. "I just help out whenever Boss needs me," he said. "Do you come here often?"

The customer had a rat's nest of thick black hair that shielded his eyes when his head was bent low. A black bomber jacket with a stylized red eye hung over his chair, and on the next chair over a messenger bag in the same style.

"Just recently," he admitted. "I don't have much in the way of free time lately, but Leblanc has a good vibe. Chill." He grinned. "Might just make it my new hangout, you know?"

"We could always use more customers," Goro said, as Boss grumbled somewhere in the background. "Your cup is empty. Can I get you a refill, sir...?"

"Kurusu," the customer said, and looked up at Goro with grey eyes and a killer smile. "Kurusu Akira.

"And I'd love a refill. Thanks."

Chapter Text

7. Prove your justice to society I

Madarame confessed.

Kitagawa came to Leblanc the day after, and unveiled the Treasure in front of them.

"It's a baby," Ann said. "So that's what the real Sayuri was like..."

"Gotta say, I like this way more than the copies," said Ryuji. "You going to cry again, dude?"

"No. I..." Kitagawa shook his head, but his gaze was wet.

"She must have cared about you," Goro said.

"More than I could ever imagine." Kitagawa wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. "I'd like to leave it here, if I could. As a gift of appreciation for helping me see the truth that was always in front of me."

"It was our pleasure, Yusuke," said Morgana.

 Life returned to normal after that, and Kitagawa became a part of Goro's afternoons once or twice a week after school. The boy enjoyed people-watching in Shibuya, enjoyed popping into Mementos for inspiration while Goro kept guard (and wondered why ), enjoyed a great deal of things more in life once Goro realized his questionable financial situation and prepared an envelope for him when necessary with the words FOOD + EMERGENCIES ONLY after he learned his lesson regarding inspecificity the first time.

His own cash flow was more than productive. He had begun working for Iwai some evenings, and Dr Takemi was close to making a breakthrough. In the Velvet Room as well...

"Flauros with Tarukaja, inmate!" snapped Caroline. "What are you waiting for!"

Fun.

Ryuji was coming closer to resolving his lingering regret over the track team, and Goro visited Mishima's physical therapy sessions with Ann and Suzui when invited. Sitting there in a chair and watching with them as the boy strained and sweated and screamed to keep himself up was its own kind of hell.

He scratched Morgana's head as he observed yet another physical therapy session and wondered what would happen if they took Mishima into Mementos and peppered him with Diarahan.

Would it work?

Could it?

Would the others even let him or scold him for thinking the Metaverse a solution to all of society's ills and problems?

There was something going around in the air. Rampage incidents, the news called it, even if it wasn't strictly accurate. The incidents were few in number, but widely publicized due to the prominence of its so-called victims: CEOs, police chiefs, prosecutors, hospital directors, even actors. The most high-ranking members of society, and therefore the most important.

Some called it the celebrity disease, since normal people didn't seem to be affected - not that much could be said about a disease that purportedly had less than three dozen victims so far.

Others found the term tasteless. Making excuses for people who just snapped and hurt others in their wake. They weren't the victims. They were perpetrators.

What if some people were just sick in the head and needed to be taken down?

Goro didn't know, and cared only because some people in the media had begun to accuse the Phantom Thieves of being associated with the rampage incidents, especially since Madarame used their name in his broadcast apology.

He wasn't sure what to think of his group's mixed reputation in the public eye - whether it mattered being famous at all - but it frustrated Suzui to see people badmouth them even on the Phansite. She was their greatest defender, even if it was perhaps taking time away from other parts of her life.

He didn't say that. He couldn't. Much as they occasionally spent time together, it was almost always Phansite-related. She didn't seem interested in talking about the past, and Goro couldn't make her.

Now that a Palace didn't loom over their heads, Goro had taken up some of Nijima's requests as well. Most of it was busywork around the school - informing janitors about cleaning blind spots, suggesting to the conbini lady to sell yakisoba pan every day, getting the rooftop re-opened to the students (new barriers had already been put up, so what was the delay?). In other words: tedium.

Some of it was more... questionable, and though Nijima informed him she had a belt in aikido and had taken several classes in First Aid and crisis management, topics like bullying and abusive relationships seemed like a job for the Thieves instead. The group was no longer surprised when Goro came to their hideouts with his own list of requests.

"That's our leader, alright," said Ryuji. "Working harder than any of us. Take a break sometime, dude!"

About that.

Goro was exhausted.

In between helping his friends and society with their problems, his various jobs and obligations and a weekly Mementos trip to stay in shape and top off their funds (Iwai's guns did not come cheap), he'd had little to no time to himself since taking down Madarame.

And since he was such a dutiful student at school, a teacher had asked him to chaperone a second-year class field trip to a TV station, and Goro been so out of it he agreed without thinking.

Something needed to give.

"Well, you look like shit," remarked Kurusu as Goro entered Leblanc five minutes before closing and sat down at a booth and collapsed.

"Hah," he mumbled. "Shh."

"You're not working him down to the bone, are you, Boss?" he heard Kurusu say, and Boss replying in outrage:

"I'm not doing anything! And stop annoying him already."

"Sorry," Kurusu said, pure glib, and from a distant grumble and ringing of the door bell Boss had gone out for a smoke.

Silence. He could get used to this.

A shadow over his eyes. Why.

"Hey," said Kurusu, sliding into the seat across. "Seriously. Are you okay?"

Goro lifted his head and rubbed his eyes. "Exquisite," he said, and the look on his face made the other boy laugh.

"Tell me about it."

Goro screwed his eyes shut. "I'm... to accompany some juniors at school to a field trip for the next two days. Foolish. I have no idea why I agreed."

"Hm. Sounds terrible. Where are you heading?"

"A TV station."

"What a coincidence. So am I."

Goro opened an eye to glare at him. "Kurusu-san. I've told you before: I'm not a fan."

"Yes, I remember you saying very huffily that when it comes to the law you respect Shirogane and only Shirogane," Kurusu said with a grin. "But you know perfectly well I'm not with the police. I'm a private eye."

Who just happened to also be a high school student with a marketing gimmick as ludicrous as the Phantom Thieves', and liked to tease Goro whenever they were in Leblanc together.

The boy sipped his coffee. "In all seriousness though. I'm guesting at a show. It'd be fun if we saw each other."

"I'm afraid I'll be too busy herding cats to make any promises," Goro said. "You'll be working as well. I doubt the distraction will be worth it."

"Akechi. Live a little."

"That's the last thing I want to do right now. I need to..." He slapped himself on the face. "I need to close up."

"Wait." Kurusu reached for his pocket and pulled something out. "If you're really so hard up I know someone who's great at stress management."

It was a business card. Goro stared.

It was pink.

With glitter.

And there was a silhouette.

Of a woman.

"This is a maid service," he said, and crushed it in his hand. "You've mistaken me for someone else entirely."

"No, no - " Kurusu raised his hands in surrender. "Not like that, jeez! They give massages! Really good ones, and completely on the level."

"If you have to even say that - "

"Akechi," said Kurusu. "I solve crimes for a living. I'd never put you in any harm."

"No, you go to school for a living," said Goro frostily. "And solve crimes on the side. Some of which are - the reasoning on your cases was very sloppy! A child could have done better!"

"Oh," emerged a white fang from the boy's smile. "Continue."

"I decline," said Goro, and got out of the booth. He tied his hair up and grabbed an apron and a rag. "I could not desire anything more."

There was a silence. Then -

"Less," said Kurusu. "You meant to say less."

"Leblanc is closed," said Goro. "Goodbye."

Before he left, Kurusu smoothed over the card Goro had all but trashed and wrote on the back: Ask for Becky. Doesn't ask questions and she's pretty funny.

He left another business card on the table, one in black with that terrible red eye looking up at Goro. In white ink: I'd love to know more about how faulty you think my reasoning is. Most people don't have the guts to say it to my face. Any time you're free - Kurusu

Despite his self-preservation crying out for mercy, Goro added both numbers to his phone, and put the cards away.

"This," said Ryuji the day after, as they escaped the vapidity of a TV show backstage and found a private hallway to bicker in, "sucks."

"I agree," said Goro. "The explanations are insultingly simple. An elementary schooler could grasp what they're telling us."

"At least we don't have to go to class today," said Ann, stretching against a wall.

Goro frowned. "Yes, both of your grades last midterm were dismal."

"We maaay have been doing something more important than studying? Right, Ann?"

"Uh, yeah! Right, senpai?"

"Kitagawa is top ten in his grade at Kosei," Goro said. "Just an idea."

"No more study sessions, I'm begging ya."

"And how often do we get a free day like this? Let's look around and explore the area."

"We could go to the arcade," Ryuji said with a sly grin.

"I need to get a replacement lipstick - "

"I'm feeling a craving for pancakes myself," Goro admitted.

"You are obsessed with that stuff. Is it 'cause we passed by Dome Town earlier?"

"There are... many toppings," he said defensively. "More so than I ever expected. What about you, Morgana?”

Morgana jumped halfway out of his bag and perched on his shoulder. "Don't forget! Boss told us to help out at Leblanc today. We can't stay out too long."

"What's the occasion?"

"A friend's coming over for dinner," Goro said. "He wants me to be there."

"Let's just hope he doesn't serve coffee and curry again. We've been eating that stuff for a week straight."

"Boss' cooking is fine and you know it," Goro said, scratching him on the head. "So, where should we go after?"

"Why not Dome Town?" said Ann. "There's tons of rides, good food, stuff to look at and buy."

"Yeah. Not that you can go on the rides, Morgana."

"What, because I'm a cat?"

"Uh, yeah. You'd fall right out of the seat!"

"Oh..."

"Perish the thought," Goro said. "I'm sure there's other doings to do."

"Ri - right! Why does it matter if - "

"Hey. What are you guys talking about?"

Morgana yanked his head back into Goro's school bag, and Kurusu of all people wandered into view. God, but he was wearing his full getup, and Goro resisted the urge to laugh. Black jacket with the red eye, bag with the red eye; did his underwear say peekaboo too? He didn't look like a private detective; he looked like a model.

"Oh," Kurusu said, and grinned. "Akechi! I was wondering where you were. These your juniors?"

"Yeah," said Ryuji. "Who the hell are you?"

"Kurusu Akira, private eye."

"Kurusu...?" said Ann. "You mean that Kurusu? Senpai, you know him?"

"He comes to Leblanc once in a while," Goro said.

"I'm half their clientele, actually," Kurusu informed them. "Akechi told me you were coming here today."

"And tomorrow too, don't forget," Ryuji muttered.

"Hey, you might even be in the audience for my show."

"Show? You a celebrity or something?"

"Yes. Ryuji, how do you not know!" said Ann before Kurusu could open his mouth. "He solves cases even the police can't get to, and he's really popular."

"Aww. That's nice of you to say," said Kurusu. "I've been on TV once or twice. But I'm glad if you've been watching me." With a wink to Ann.

Too much. "I'm afraid we have to be going now," said Goro. "You must be busy too."

"Always am," Kursu drawled. "I should head to my briefing anyhow. Enjoy that curry, yeah? I would kill for some right now."

"Curry?" said Ann. "We're going to Dome Town."

"Oh." The boy shrugged. "Sorry. Overheard you talking about Leblanc earlier. Gave me hunger pangs just thinking about it."

"The shop's closing early today," said Goro. "So don't fantasize about it too much, I hope."

"Akechi. You break my heart," said Kursu, even fake-clutching his chest before standing up straight. "Have fun."

Goro ate his pancakes.

 He arrived at Leblanc that evening with two bags' worth of groceries. Boss looked up and said, relieved, "Good. We've still got an hour, so let's wrap things up and head over."

Customers were still in the cafe, an aged couple with a single cup of coffee between them. "What's the occasion?" the man said, interested.

"A dinner date," Goro said, and smiled when Boss spluttered.

"It's nothing like that - and wash the dishes! Futaba's coming too."

Goro went to work, and the couple soon left. At home Boss set Goro on prepping the ingredients for a hamburg meal. The man didn't trust him yet to cook the patties lest they turn out half-raw, but Goro had gotten much better with a knife over the months and could peel and cut carrots and potatoes in a reasonable amount of time,

It was all cooking away and Boss working on the miso soup when the bell rang, and Goro opened the front door.

"Yo, nerd!" said a familiar voice, and well, Futaba was Futaba. She kicked off her boots and jumped onto the genkan, sliding on the wooden floor with her socks on.

"Futaba," said a low voice. "Show some manners. Put on some slippers."

Standing still in the doorway was a tall, glasses-wearing woman with a sharp black bob and all-black attire. As Futaba obeyed with a grumble on the tip of her tongue, Goro bowed. "You must be Isshiki-san. Welcome to Bo - Sakura-san's home."

The woman regarded him. "Likewise," she said, closing the door behind her, and did she sound amused? "Sojiro's told me a lot about you, Akechi-kun."

"All positive, I hope?" he said, as they all went to the living room. Futaba belly-flopped onto the leather sofa and immediately pulled her phone out, while her mother took a chair.

"Mostly," she said, and Goro choked.

"Mostly? What have I been doing wrong?"

"Says the guy who brings bags of trash in to Leblanc every day and makes me pass messages along to hot boys at my school," Futaba said in a deliberate not-whisper. "Admit it, Akechi. You're sketchy."

Goro literally could not comment without making it worse, so he turned to Isshiki-san and clasped his hands. "Could I get you something to drink? Dinner will be done in just ten, and - "

"Sojiro, I hungeeerrrr!"

From the kitchen, a distant: "It's coming, Futaba! Just wait!"

"Futaba, please," said Isshiki-san. "Yes, barley tea would be fine."

"Ramune for me."

"Oh, we don't have that."

"Wanna get it?"

"Barley tea," Isshiki-san repeated, and sighed. "I'm sorry my daughter is being a burden to you right now."

"I'm not, Mom!" Futaba said, outraged, while Goro wanted to dunk his head into sand and stay there.

"It's... no problem at all," he said, and went over to the kitchen before an argument broke out in front of him.

Boss was grumbling over the stove when Goro approached.

"What's wrong? Demi-glace not coming to?"

"No, it's - it's fine," the man said. "I just..." He sighed, and turned the burners off. "What did they want to drink again?"

"Barley tea. I can get it," Goro said. "If everything's done, you should sit down and talk with them."

Boss looked at him with a hand on his hip for a while, then slumped and undid his apron. "Thanks, kid," he said. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Not like I'll rat you out to your old place if you get into a bit of trouble."

"I... know," said Goro. "What's your concern?"

"Just. Ever since that scumbag Kamoshida got fired from your school - "

"It's alright," Goro said. "The Phantom Thieves took care of him."

Boss' eyes widened. He shouldn't have let that slip.

"So you think they're the real deal too, huh."

"One... is a coincidence," said Goro, deliberating over his words. "Two a pattern." He smiled. "Not that I'll be bellowing out my support for them from the rooftops."

Not like Kurusu, who even now was making a show of praising the Phantom Thieves and saying how touched he was they were inspired by him.

(They weren't. Goro hadn't heard of Kurusu's name in the public eye until only a few months ago, and neither had anyone else. How did someone who was such a flash-in-the-pan tarento like Kurusu have the right to pretend himself an icon?

... he couldn't remember how the Thieves had first decided upon their calling card design.)

"Besides," he said. "Things have been calm at school lately. There's not much to complain about."

"I guess," said Boss. "Just don't keep it all to yourself. I'm your guardian, not a watchdog. I'm on your side."

"I know, sir," Goro said.

Dinner was hamburg steak with a side of carrots and potatoes (the demi-glace was indeed very good), miso soup with tofu and white rice. The four of them sat at the dinner table, and the disjointed atmosphere around Futaba and her mother was nowhere to be seen. Even Goro felt able to banter, with Boss lounging in his chair, Futaba demanding seconds and staring mournfully at Goro's plate while she was served, Isshiki-san sipping a glass of wine and chuckling on occasion.

It felt homey.

"And then on Superstar Galactica Z Warriors episode eight hundred and twenty-three - "

"No more!" Boss groaned. "Kid, you know any of what she's talking about?"

"Not at all," Goro said, Futaba sticking her tongue out in protest. "I've never had the chance to watch much anime before."

"Which explains why you're such a stick in the mud!"

"Futaba," he said, leaning forward. "I let you stay in Leblanc for hours when you don't order a single item. You occupy one-tenth of the cafe's seating on your lonesome, and I have yet to kick you out for it."

She narrowed her eyes and matched him stance for stance. "That's Sojiro's prerogative, not yours. Plus, what could you even do to me? You can barely take the garbage out."

"My fitness has improved considerably since I arrived."

"Hundred pushups," said Futaba. "Right here. Right now."

"Futaba! Please!" Despite her words, Isshiki-san was laughing. "You shouldn't bother your seniors like that."

"That's right," said Goro. "You should call me senpai." No one in his social group did so, not even Kitagawa, whose acknowledgement of Goro's elder age went to thanking him profusely every time Goro treated him to a meal or passed him one of his sacred money envelopes so he wasn't reduced to nibbling on expired bean sprouts and mushrooms he harvested from the underside of city trees.

"Treat me like a junior," said Futaba. "Seriously. Treat me."

Goro's funds were for other necessities. "Come to Shujin first."

"No, you come to Kosei! Your fox of a boyfriend's there anyway - "

There was a phone ring, and Isshiki-san got up. "Sorry, I should get this," she said, and went into the hallway.

"Alright, stop bickering," said Boss. "It's getting pretty late. Kid, mind getting the dishes?"

"No problem," Goro said, and started collecting them. Futaba watched him as he worked with her hands on her chin.

"So... have you seen any anime? At all?"

"A little Featherman, when I was a boy." It kept him entertained, like it did the other children at the home; they'd sit still for hours on the floor, popping VHSes in and out while adults worked around them, thankful for the silence.

Her eyes turned into marbles. "Watch it with me."

"Why would we watch an old show together?"

"Akechi," Futaba said. "There are sequels."

"I'll have to think about it," he said, balancing the lot of dishes on his arm. "See where it fits into my schedule." Wink. "Being a stick in the mud and all."

"Oh, you!"

He crossed the hallway to get to the kitchen, glancing back at Isshiki-san. She was standing by the genkan, phone pressed to her ear, and whatever conversation she was having with the person on the other end was going poorly.

" - we have everything we need, we've done the research and waited months for approvals! Why is he trying to prevent us from releasing our work to the public now? That's not his - "

He shouldn't be eavesdropping. He put the dishes in the sink and ran the tap, while around him conversation flowed as the water streaming through his hands.

"So how's school, Futaba?"

"Easy peasy! Kosei's supposed to be for the gifted and all, but honestly I'm running ropes around the rest of 'em. It doesn't help that the teachers ask me for tech support, but - "

"This is because of the coming election, isn't it? He's just an elected representative, what right does he have to interfere with our work like this?"

"You better not be changing your grades - "

" - course not, Sojiro! Just rounding them up once in a while."

"Someday you're going to be in real trouble, young lady."

"I have spent years on this. Research involving the cognitive world is my project, and if he thinks he can threaten to cut funding if we don't do as he says then he's got another thing coming. That wretched Shido Masayoshi - "

Goro dropped a plate.

It smashed into a dozen pieces and scattered under the counters, the fridge. He swallowed, and examined his hands. No cuts.

"What's the matter?" Boss said, rounding the corner. He saw the mess and sighed. "Greasy fingers?"

"My bad," Goro said blankly.

"Just get the broom and dustpan. I'll take over."

"Ri - right." He stepped over the mess carefully and retrieved the tools from the hall closet. Boss had already collected the larger shards, and Goro swept up the rest and deposited them carefully into the bin.

"Hey." The man clasped his shoulder, and Goro stared at him. "You've helped me out a lot today, yeah? Don't think I don't appreciate it. Just sit down and relax. You've earned it."

"Of course." His words didn't sound like himself.

When he came back Isshiki-san was pulling on her coat, and Futaba glowering in a ball in the living room.

"Futaba," the woman said in a strained voice. "Let's go home. I have to go back to work."

"No, you don't," the girl said, crossing her arms. "You want to go back to work. Even on a day we promised we'd spend together."

"Things came up - "

"Things always come up! This isn't fair. For once I want us to be together as a family and watch crappy old shows with Sojiro and this nerd over here and - "

Oh, right. Goro was in the room with them. Still. Somehow.

"Futaba," said her mother, and a cold tone had overtaken her. "I'm sorry, but sometimes other things are more important."

"Yeah. Like the cognitive world," Futaba sneered. "More important than your own daughter, right?"

"... if that's how you see it," said Isshiki-san. "I couldn't possibly argue." She looked at Goro for the first time since he'd come in. "Akechi-kun."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're a hard-working student," she said. "Walk Futaba to the station later, can you?"

"Mom!"

"Yes, ma'am," Goro said, and watched Isshiki-san leave the house while Futaba put her hands up to her face and began to cry.

Goro then turned heel and left to his room.

Morgana was asleep on his duvet. Goro shook him awake and the cat jolted. "What? What?"

"Emergency situation," Goro said, standing over him in the dark.

Morgana could hear Futaba sniffling too, and groaned. "Like Mishima? That was not a fun day for me - "

"I'll get you anything you want. Anything."

"... show me the way." Morgana unfolded his body and let Goro carry him back out.

Boss was there too now, and when he saw Morgana in Goro's arms he stepped aside gratefully. How pathetic they both were at delivering comfort, Goro thought, and placed Morgana down on the spot beside Futaba.

"What?" she hiccuped, when the cat bumped his head against her knee. "Where did you come from?"

"Meow?" said Morgana with his bright blue eyes, and nuzzled her hand when she brought it down to stroke him.

"You had this guy here all along," Futaba said in a scratchy voice, "and didn't show me? You suck, Akechi."

"I guess I was just holding back," he found himself saying, "for when something like this was needed."

"Mrr?" said Morgana, and booped his nose against Futaba's.

"... thanks." She took her glasses off and wiped at her eyes. "And thanks for nothing, Sojiro!"

"Sorry," the man said.

"Yeah, I know you can't say anything about Mom anyway. Okay, okay, I'm not sad anymore." Hugging Morgana as she said this, glaring at the two of them. "So will you both sit down or are you gonna keep looking at me and giving me the creeps?"

"We'll sit down," Goro said.

"Yeah. Um, you want to watch something for a bit? Damn, where's the remote - "

"Don't need a remote," Futaba mumbled into Morgana's fur. "Got a phone. I'll just stream it." She lifted her head. "Akechi, get over here. We are watching some Featherman, and I am not leaving until you get hooked."

It was nearly ten when Boss made them stop, and Goro walked alongside Futaba in the dark as they headed to the station.

"Sorry about earlier," the girl said in a small voice. "It must have been awkward, watching me and my mom fight."

"Family is complicated," Goro said. "I know."

She gave him a side glance. "Do you?"

"... I don't know what you want me to say to that."

"Something like don't be disrespectful to your mother Futaba, or you should be grateful you have parents at all. Blah blah - " She cut herself short. "You wouldn't say something like that. I don't know why I even implied it."

"I don't live with the two of you," Goro said. "I don't know your situation."

"It's not like that." She grimaced. "Mom is just stressed out lately. Okay, she's been stressed for a long time, but it's just the assholes at her work! She's not like that naturally." She pushed her glasses up her nose. "It used to be better. She had more free time, and we'd do stuff together. Go places. But now - "

"You must have looked forward to this dinner," Goro said.

"Yeah," Futaba said. "I did."

She scuffed her shoe on a telephone role as they passed. "Mom's been working on this project for the government for years now. Super -experimental theoretical research about this world of cognition that overlaps on our own and supposedly makes people's consciousness manifest in weird ways... that's as much as I know," she lamented. "I tried looking up files on her laptop at home once, and she totally freaked out on me. Said it was top secret and I could be sent to juvie for breaking the law or something. For just reading some encrypted files?"

"That seems like a warning to take seriously," Goro said, keeping his hands gripped tightly, tightly at his back.

"I know," said Futaba. "I was just curious too. I wanted to... maybe if I could help her out - " She stopped. "That sounds dumb, doesn't it. Like, what could I do to help Mom when she doesn't even want me around half the time."

"I'm sure that's not how she feels," Goro said. "She must love you."

"A lot of people tell me that," said Futaba. "So I guess it must be true."

They were at the station. He ought to say goodbye now, and prepare for tomorrow.

"Futaba," he said. "What you said before, about watching anime together..."

"Oh." She scratched her ear. "Yeah, that was a bit much. We don't have to. I know you're just tolerating me for Sojiro's sake - "

"I want to," Goro said.

"You do?" She squinted up at him. Suspicious. "But you said the episodes we watched were boring!"

"I may have been... not telling the whole truth," he admitted. "It was fun."

"You liar." She snorted. "Cheat. Sketchy. Sketchy Akechi."

"What I mean is - I enjoyed it. Spending time together. It doesn't have to be anime, but just doing things? You spend a lot of time at Leblanc as it is, so - "

"Ouch," Futaba muttered. "But true."

" - and I'm free. Occasionally." He smiled. "How about it?"

She thought it over. "Only if you bring Morgana."

"I knew you'd like him. Is it a deal, then?"

"You dork! Of course it's a deal." She bumped his shoulder with a fist. "I take back everything I said about you, Akechi.You're not bad at all."

"And neither are you."

"Nerd," she said, and rolled her eyes, with a smile as big as the morning sun. "See you later."

"Have a good night, Futaba," he said, and waited until she got onto her train and it zoomed past him before he turned and made his way home.

 That night he went to the bathroom with Morgana sleepily protesting, and lifting his phone up to his mouth, whispered, "Shido Masayoshi" again and again into the Metaverse App.

Target found.

Target found.

Target found.

He said, "Diet Building," next and the App spoke in affirmative.

Then:

"Castle."

No candidates found.

"Battleground."

No candidates found.

"Prison."

No candidates found.

"War."

No candidates found.

"Opportunity."

No candidates found.

"Greed."

No candidates found.

"Despair."

No candidates found.

"God damn it!" He hit the mirror with a fist and felt it shudder under the force. "Damn it," Goro whispered, and put his phone away.

"Kid? You alright down there?"

"Ye - yes," he called out as he left the bathroom. "Sorry, it's nothing to worry about."

Boss was silent, and Goro's bedroom dark when he opened the door and let himself back in.

Morgana padded to his side when he lay down in bed and began to nuzzle his hand. "What are you doing?" he said hoarsely.

"Seems like you could use it," said Morgana. "I heard you trying to use the app, you know."

He closed his eyes. "Morgana..."

"We don't have to tell the others."

His lip curled. "But you want me to tell you. Why?"

"... because I'm your friend, Goro," said Morgana, his tail swishing like a feather duster over Goro's slack hand. "And I care about you. I am allowed to care about you, right?"

Goro chuckled. "Yes, you are." He lifted his hand and stroked the cat's head. "That's the first time you've used my name. Always called me Crow, even in the real world."

Morgana ducked his gaze. "I never knew if you wanted me to use your name like that."

"The others call me just about anything," Goro said. "I'm surprised you felt differently."

"I am different from the rest of you. Remember?"

"I remember," he mumbled. "The hunt for your human body continues."

"It does. And when I get it back I'll be even taller than you."

"Of course." He sighed. "Morgana, I can't... tell you right now. It's a long story, and I don't feel comfortable sharing."

"Take your time, then," the cat said. "Just don't do anything reckless like go into the Metaverse on your own. We're a team, and a team means everybody's gotta have each other's backs. Promise?"

"Yes," he said. "I promise."

He slept poorly.

The morning after they were in the audience of the show Kurusu was guesting on, and while Mr Third Eye himself was bright-eyed and slyly sparkling as usual, Goro felt like several nails had been hammered into his head, and every time someone spoke too close to him another one just gouged itself deep inside and made him ache.

Which meant, of course, that the co-host trawling the audience for reactions came to him, and held the mic up under his chin before he could protest in weak-willed defense.

"So, young man," the host said, as Kurusu stared at him with a stupid grin on his face, "what do you think of the Phantom Thieves?"

"I... um..." Oh no. This was not happening. He was not bombing on national TV because of parental angst. Not now.

"It looks like our guest didn't get a lot of sleep last night!" said the co-host. "Maybe we should switch to another audience member?"

If they interviewed Ryuji or Ann it would be a disaster. Goro opened his mouth when Kurusu said: "I'm interested in his thoughts. Just give him a minute."

Oh. Goro narrowed his eyes. That was suspiciously nice of Kurusu.

He cleared his throat and began again, "I... personally believe the Phantom Thieves of Hearts don't exist. But if they did, I would not be on their side."

"Dude, what ?" Ryuji hissed besides him.

Goro ignored him. "Mandating a change of heart in someone seems just, but in the end, doesn't that just rob someone of their agency? The kind of person that Kamoshida or Madarame was would have never atoned for their crimes before the Thieves went for them."

"Isn't that a good thing?" said the host. "Don't we want people to recognize the harm they've done to society and turn themselves in?"

"What I'm saying is," said Goro. "These changes of hearts may have fundamentally transformed the characters of the Thieves' victims to the point they may not be themselves anymore. So even if they do atone, it's not the same person." He hesitated. "Is a butterfly responsible for the crimes of a caterpillar?"

Ann sucked in her breath, and Goro thought, stay the course. Divert attention.

"Same body and mind, isn't it?" drawled Kurusu. "If the Phantom Thieves hadn't gotten those guys to change their minds, then who? Who do you think should have done it instead?"

"The law," Goro said, and saw the boy blink and lean back. He added, "There would have been no need for the Thieves if the police had done their due diligence and investigated Kamoshida and Madarame when the allegations around them first showed up."

"So you're saying it was the cops' dereliction of duty that led the Thieves to exist."

"They failed," said Goro. "And in doing so, left a vacuum for others to succeed."

"Just like me," said Kurusu, and his smile briefly curdled.

"That's right!" said the co-host, oblivious. "Kurusu-kun here became a detective due to an incident regarding the police in his own past."

"Not like that," Kurusu said, and his grin was stapled to his face again. "Someone close to me got hurt, and the police didn't take them seriously. I couldn't stand nothing being done to apprehend the criminal, so..." He lowered his gaze, and a sigh swept through the teenaged audience like a wave in high tide. Goro curled his lip. He must be enjoying this.

"You won't find anything about it online, of course," the Third Eye added. "Privacy laws and all. We don't want anyone snooping through the lives of private citizens, do we?"

"Nooooo" rang the audience like a chorus of mockingbirds, and Goro pressed a hand over his lips and breathed in through his mouth.

"We'd love to keep chatting with Kurusu-kun, but - " the host was saying, and like that the shoot was over. As they got up to leave Ann bit her lip and said, "Senpai, did you really mean that? About our - the Thieves' change of hearts?"

"Of course not," Goro said. "I was just thinking aloud. Theoretically."

"You did it pretty well, then," said Ryuji.

Goro studied the two of them. "Are you mad," he asked.

"It would have been way cooler if you defended us," the boy muttered.

"Kurusu was already doing that. It would have been dull. But..." He pressed his lips together. "I'm sorry if I gave the impression I didn't believe in the cause. I just thought it would have been more suspicious otherwise."

"Yeah. I get it," said Ann. "Even if Kamo - you-know-who's a different person now, I still don't regret anything. We made the right choice."

"I think so too," said Goro, and set her mind at ease.

Kurusu caught him on the way out. "Hey. That was a pretty spicy conversation earlier."

"Was it?" said Goro. The others were already ahead of him, and Morgana was fidgeting in his bag. "I was..." Well, no need to be hostile. "It was fun. Maybe."

"Let's chat again," said Kurusu. "Seriously. I enjoyed hearing how you truly felt."

"Really," Goro said dryly. "You're aware I've never made a single positive comment to or about you in the short time we've known each other."

"At least you're honest. Most people either just suck up to me or dismiss me as some snotty brat with an anti-cop gimmick." Kurusu smiled. "I feel like you take me seriously, you know?"

"It would be churlish not to," Goro said. "You being who you are."

"See? You use the thousand yen words too. I'm a big fan of that."

"Oh, stop!" He couldn't help a laugh. Now that Kurusu wasn't sashaying about for an audience, his mannerisms were far more tolerable. "You're just saying that so I'll give you free refills at Leblanc."

"Will you? Because I've got a lot more compliments coming your way if so."

"Kurusu-san," Goro said, and the boy stilled. "I have to head back to my group. I can't have them wandering off without me."

"Gotta chaperone," Kurusu said, and his smile seemed a little smaller. "Yeah. Got it. My offer's still standing, though."

"Which one? You or the potential sex crime?"

"Hey now. Becky is legit ." Kurusu held up his hands, and Goro wondered why someone as casual as him wore gloves indoors. Fingerless, yes, but still a ridiculous sight. "I meant me," he added. "Despite the prissy attitude, you don't hold back - " Goro snorted. " - and I'd like to talk with you more."

"Really," Goro echoed.

"Over coffee at Leblanc," said Kurusu. "Or elsewhere."

Goro said nothing, and wondered what the boy wanted from him.

Surely he didn't know. Surely.

He was getting better at making bonds with people, but to be prompted like this out of nowhere from someone who was mostly a stranger... and a celebrity besides -

He couldn't help it. It was flattering. People never used to want him like this.

It had been a long time since he had thought about the law. At the institution, yes, always conscious of the chains around him, and so bitter -

But since coming to Boss' place and going to Shujin? Being the leader of the Phantom Thieves had consumed all in his mind, and left scarce breathing room for much else.

How badly he once wanted to be Shirogane. Would have killed to stand next to her and hold his head up high.

Now he stood in front of the one people called her second coming and wondered if this was the closest he would ever get to his former aspiration - wanting to be an ace detective. Help the weak and arrest the unjust. Right wrongs, and be adored for it.

It was so silly. So stupid. Kurusu was an oddball in the public eye. Adored by many of his peers for his debonair ways, his good looks and irreverent charm, for cracking the cases the cops couldn't.

The police hated him for the very same reason: for thumbing up his nose at them, for refusing to cooperate and coordinate research with them, for never letting them have a moment's rest when he was prowling. Justice never slept, after all.

In the end, wasn't that what the Phantom Thieves were doing as well?

Wasn't there an opportunity here for Goro?

(And for Crow?)

"If you insist," he said finally, and saw the smile elevate Kurusu's pale face like a dawn over a dark night. "I suppose it could be interesting."

"Fun," said Kurusu.

" Enlightening ," emphasized Goro. "To put our minds together and... solve a few cases. If you'll let me."

"If I'll let you," Kurusu repeated. "You have no idea the whirlwind you're about to unleash right now."

Goro shook his head with a smile. "I'll see you later, Kurusu-san," he said, and walked away before the boy could respond.

Morgana popped his head out of Goro's bag as he turned corner and said, "That went well."

"Yes," Goro said. "It did."

 Arrangements about spending time with Futaba or Kurusu regardless, Goro had other obligations, and when he headed up to the student council room the day after, he saw Nijima slumped over a table with her arm over her face.

Sliding the door shut behind him, Goro said, "Is something wrong, Nijima-san?"

"Oh! Akechi-kun." She shot up in her seat, and yes, there were visible shadows under her eyes and her headband was askew. "Excuse me. Things lately have just been so..."

"Difficult?" 

"Exactly. I'm sorry to be bothering you with another request again."

"Not at all." He pulled a chair out and sat down. "So what is it this time?"

Nijima sat up straight. "Have you heard the rumours regarding Shibuya?"

"Ah," said Goro. He went there often - to visit Kitagawa and Ann, work for Iwai... and now volunteer once or twice a week for the disgraced politician named Yoshida Toranosuke. "You mean the rumours about strange men offering students money for little work, then entrapping them into unsavoury endeavors later on."

"Yes." She leaned forward. "It seems more students from Shujin are getting entangled into this, and I'd like to check if what they're doing is honest or not."

"I can't imagine it is," Goro said. "The mere idea seems ludicrous."

"I know." Nijima sighed. "For now I'd just like us to ask questions around the school - but me being who I am, it's been quite hard getting students to tell me anything. It might go down better if you were with me."

"I suppose I do give off that criminal impression," Goro said dryly.

Nijima blanched. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm just teasing, Nijima-san." He got up. "Shall we start, then? If you have any names - "

"It's no good," she sighed only a short while later. "The students really don't trust me, and they're not willing to open up to you, either." Nijima bit her lip. "When did people lose their trust in the Student Council?"

Did they ever have it? thought Goro. "What about all the good deeds you and I have been doing all this time? Surely they're grateful for that."

Nijima shook her head. "To tell you the truth, most of what we've been able to achieve has been... minor. Somehow the students aren't very impressed the school store now sells yakisoba every other day, instead of just Friday. They think it's the Principal allowing us these small victories too." She leaned her head back against the wall and crossed her arms. "Especially since some of the more difficult requests have resolved themselves out of the blue. Isn't that strange? How does someone just suddenly stop bullying or using another student when they have every incentive to keep going?"

Apart from his lot, that was.

"It's not like we know what goes on outside of school," Goro said. "Perhaps people are being influenced from elsewhere."

"Influenced?" She frowned. "Like from the Phantom Thieves?"

"I meant - "

"It does make sense, doesn't it." Nijima stepped away from the wall. "It's likely the Thieves are from Shujin as you well know, Akechi-kun."

"I couldn't possibly be sure of a statement like that," said Goro.

"Who else would have targeted a mere gym teacher for their first change of heart? Think about Madarame's public confession as well, and the way some of these problems on our suggestion board have been solving themselves without the two of us getting involved. It can't be a coincidence."

"... perhaps," said Goro. "But is it relevant whether they go to Shujin or not? They're not breaking the law - if forcing someone to have a change of heart could even be considered illegal ."

Nijima stared at him, lips pursed together. "It... is relevant, unfortunately," she admitted, and Goro's stomach dropped. "The Principal asked me to look into the Phantom Thieves, ever since Kamoshida turned himself in. Unfortunately I haven't been able to find any clues, but if my suspicions are correct, they're still active. Possibly right in my line of sight." She set her shoulders straight. "I know I'm already presuming a lot on your time, Akechi-kun, and if you refuse I completely understand."

"But," said Goro.

"I'd like you to help me identify the Phantom Thieves of Hearts," said Nijima. "I want to - no, I need to find out who they are."

"And then what?" said he, and kept his hands locked behind his back. "Do you plan on helping the Principal and turning them in? Even though they ousted Kamoshida and protected the student body?"

" No , Akechi-kun," said Nijma Makoto. "No, I believe the Phantom Thieves are doing the right thing, and I want them to help us."

 "It's a trap, dude," said Ryuji when they met up in the passageway later. "Don't fall for it."

"I have to agree," said Kitagawa, who appeared to have gained weight since the last time Goro saw him. He was still svelte, but his jawline was now less pronounced and his collarbones less exaggeratedly gaunt.

(Not that it mattered, so long as he was healthy.)

"Nijima's one of those people who kept quiet about Kamoshida all this time," said Ann, hands on her hips. "So for her to suggest she wants to work with the Thieves and not turn against us the first chance she gets... I'm sorry, senpai, but it just sounds shady. There's no way we can trust her."

"Nothing says we have to," said Goro.

"What does she even want anyway?" Ryuji scowled. "I know you like your after school projects with her, but - "

"I spend time with you as well, Ryuji," Goro reminded him.

"Yeah, but come on. She's going to narc on us in a second!"

Pressure in the form of small paws sank onto Goro's shoulders. "It's not like we have any targets at the moment though."

"You can't be serious, Morgana."

"We still have Mementos," said Ann. "Don't we have that abusive boss to take care of?"

"We do," said Goro. "We should head there now, in fact."

 As Shibuya Station distorted under their feet and around them, Kitagawa - now Fox murmured, "You seem reluctant to condemn this Nijima-san wholly."

"I find her company intriguing," Goro said. "Even if we come from entirely different backgrounds. She wishes to do her best with the authority she upholds, even as it constrains her more than it liberates."

"I see." The boy looked contemplative. "Would you be receptive to welcoming her to the Thieves if necessary?"

"I doubt that's wise at this point and time. We're large enough a group as it is."

"You brought me in quite readily." Kitagawa hesitated. "Do you ever..."

"Never," said Goro. "I've always been appreciative of your presence, Kitagawa-san."

"As I yours." A smile, genuine, and utterly free of artifice. "After this, I'd like to impose on your time."

"Please do," said Goro, conscious of Skull crossing his arms and waiting for them alongside Panther and Mona by the entrance turnstiles.

"I was considering a visit to Sensei's home once more," said Kitagawa. "Yet feel uncomfortable at the prospect of heading there on my lonesome. Would you like to come?"

No. In all seriousness, no. But Goro was burdened by this chain called friendship, and an overwhelming need to help someone who liked him. Why else would he console Ann when her rival Mika insulted her in front of their industry peers or let Suzui babble on about the Phansite and the ways she was increasing the Thieves' popularity, even as her hands shook and she constantly tapped her foot as if agitated?

"Certainly," he said, and felt small and queer when Kitagawa beamed and said:

"You are a true friend indeed."

With Shiki-Ouji the Shadow of Odo Nozomi was a paltry beast, and holding his Treasure, a book regarding Chinese sweets, Goro thought about pushing it onto sugar-tongued Ann, or Kitagawa the epicure.

He kept it for his own, since once in a blue moon he found a seat on the train to school and could use some light reading.

He bid the others farewell and went with Kitagawa to Madarame's old house, aware as ever of the pinching strain in his legs. They had gone to Mementos only for Odo and hardly fought a dozen Shadows to get him, and yet Goro was drained. Perhaps it was the mere act of switching realities that fatigued him so - but even Kitagawa appeared perfectly fine.

Maybe it was just him.

Yellow tape was papered over the front of the house, and while Goro felt little qualm about tearing it off the door, he realized the main problem - it was jammed shut.

"I don't wish to break it open," said Kitagawa, looking regretful. "Yet..."

"I'm sorry," Goro said, wiping his hands on his pants. "I don't see how I can open this right now." Not with his oafish sense of proficiency still.

"Next time, then," said Kitagawa, and the aura between them as they walked back to Shibuya Station was one of wasted potential.

The days after found Goro in semi-futile interrogation mode at school. Somehow his reputation was changing from antisocial institutionalized freak to uptight type-A suckup, and the sight of him walking the halls with Nijima sent the less aspirational half of Shujin's students fleeing.

There was nothing to be done. He called in Ryuji and Ann for assistance and got names, motives, and a location in five minutes flat - which led him and Nijima on a precious Sunday off in Shibuya, wearing their uniforms in conspicuous fashion and trying to look idle and shiftless and motivated by want of cheap money as possible.

"I'm quite grateful for your friends' assistance," said Nijima with her hands clasped in front of her.

"They're resourceful," said Goro.

"They're an eclectic pair though, no? Sakamoto-kun and Takamaki-san. Both second years. An odd choice for someone in your position to make friends with."

"I'm afraid no one in my class has yet to take an interest in me," said Goro. "And beggars cannot be choosers."

Nijima's eyes crinkled. "I'm sure that's not true, Akechi-kun. You're just in and out of the classroom so quickly no one has a chance to make conversation even if they'd like to. And many do - or so I've heard.

"It is funny, though," she added. "Both of them were involved with Kamoshida before he turned himself in."

"That man's list of victims was quite extensive," said Goro, hands in his pockets. "It's just happenstance, surely?"

"Once is a coincidence," said Nijima. "Two, I'm afraid, is a pattern."

Goro smiled, and prayed it didn't look as tight as he felt. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean by that, Nijima-san."

"Kamoshida was your homeroom teacher," said Nijima. "Did he ever say anything to you?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. I lacked the athletic ability to attract his attention in the first place, so..."

"So," echoed Nijima, switching targets. "You're acquainted with Suzui-san too, I hear."

And Mishima through his recovery period, though Goro's main responsibility there was to bring Morgana to entertain the boy and then excrete half his wallet in a high-end sushi place after. "Forgive me, Nijima-san," he said. "But shouldn't we get back to work? Stimulating as this conversation is, we hardly appear to be the ideal targets standing together and gossiping as we are."

"You think we should split up?" Nijima said, and Goro nodded. Her nostrils flared. "Very well."

"I'll head to the underground walkway," Goro said. "There are always homeless people there - perhaps they'll know something."

"And I'll investigate the alleyways," said Nijima.

He nodded and turned to make way, only for her to add, "Oh, Akechi-kun?"

"Yes, Nijima-san?"

"I don't think of what we do as gossiping," said she. "Believe it or not, I've always enjoyed our conversations together. Even our first time."

"Certainly." He smiled. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"Good luck, Akechi-kun," she said, and began walking away.

"Stay out of trouble, Nijima-san," he called out, and watched her go until she turned a corner and disappeared out of view.

 Yusuke: How is your investigation going with Nijima-san? Are you getting anything useful?

Goro: Unfortunately not much beyond some vague warnings from the local indigent association. Whoever these scammers are, they clearly aren't picking people at will to suck in.

Goro: I thought I'd be a perfect victim, but...

Ann: It's because you have a fighting spirit, senpai.

Goro: ?

Yusuke: She's right.

Yusuke: Perhaps you're unaware but when you walk you carry a powerful stance.

Goro: Me?

Goro: Surely you're mistaken.

Ryuji: Cut it with the false modesty dude.

Ryuji: Yeah you look like a dweeb but not someone people want to mess with.

Ryuji: Like whenever you bring out a new Persona with some move the rest of us don't have yet I feel like shitting my pants.

Yusuke: Vulgar, yet strangely appropriate. Thank you, Ryuji.

Yusuke: Do I seem more authoritative as well lately?

Ann: ...

Ryuji: ...

Ann: ...

Yusuke: Your silence is perturbing, yet not unexpected.

Goro: I hope your weekends are proving more productive at the moment.

Goro: Ann, is Morgana doing well at your place?

Ann: Morgana. Is. Delightful!!

Ann: I'm so glad you let me borrow him for the day.

Goro: Trust me, the honour is all his.

Ryuji: I'm on break from helping my mom out at the shop.

Ryuji: Anything but washing more dishes seriously!!

Yusuke: I am always on the hunt for a new muse.

Ryuji: Oooh you hear that Goroboy? Yusuke here's gonna replace ya.

Goro: Must you?

Ryuji: When you say it like that...

Ryuji: Yeah!!

Yusuke: What an offensive suggestion, Ryuji. Akechi-san is still my most important model. He just happens to be busy right now.

Ryuji: Uh uh.

Goro: I beg you all to stop immediately.

Goro: For my sake.

Ann: Okay well.

Ann: I'm just painting my nails right now while waiting for Shiho.

Ann: Free yoga session at Inokashira Park soon if you're interested.

Yusuke: That sounds like a marvelous idea! People-watching in Shibuya Station has not been a source of inspiration lately...

Ryuji: Don't be a creep dude.

Yusuke: ?

Ryuji: People don't want to be gawked at by some rando while they're bending and all sweaty and stuff.

Ann: I know I wouldn't.

Yusuke: I see. I had no idea.

Ann: Just ask permission first and it'll probably be fine, Yusuke!

Ann: You always look like you could use more fresh air to be honest.

Ann: Isn't that right, senpai?

Ann: Senpai?

Another chat window popped up, and Goro switched over.

Nijima: It's Nijima.

Nijima: I think I'm close and I need your help.

Nijima: Come back to Central Street asap.

Nijima: First alley on right

Nijima: akechi i

Nijima: hrelre

Goro ran.

 For all his months in Palaces and trawling dungeons in Mementos, Goro hadn’t thrown a punch in the real world in years, and only ever before in self-defense. Summoning Personas to shock enemies for him or stunning them with make-believe bullets was not the same as training in martial arts, or boxing.

Was not the same as being able to jump into battle when he didn't have Recarm on an ally's lips or one of Boss' curry packages to devour in a safe room and keep him going.

And yet, when he ran into the Central Street alley Nijima wrote of and found her about to be hogtied into the trunk of a car by three greasy-looking men, Goro knew that hesitation meant failure, and he could not fail.

"What do you gentlemen think you're doing?" he said in as cold a voice as he could muster, and threw the first punch.

Unfortunately one of the man caught his punch, and grabbed his wrist so tightly he thought it might break from the crushing grip.

Unfortunately the next man banged his head against the side of the car and rendered Goro both speechless and pliant as a doormat.

Unfortunately he and Nijima shared the trunk of that car together, breathed in the same filthy soaked secondhand smoke and tasted sweat and fear and humiliation together.

"I'm sorry, Akechi-kun," Nijima mumbled, her voice so small the burr of the car's engine nearly drowned it out.

"Don't be," said he, sucking on his uninjured bottom lip. His top half was beginning to puff out. "In retrospect I have no - " The car drove over a speedbump, and he gasped as it jostled his arm. Struggling to finish: "... no idea why I thought attacking at first sight would help."

"I know aikido," Nijima said. "I've been training since I was a little girl... and yet I just froze up. All that preparation vanished the moment they surrounded me." She turned her head away - as much as she could in this repulsive, confined space and let out a sob. "Fuck."

"Fuck," Goro echoed.

"Do they think they're going to kill us?"

The patchy ragged felt of the car vibrated against Goro's ear painfully; he was half-numb on that side, and twitched to recover feeling, a sense of normalcy in this abnormal space.

"Knowing their type," he said, "I'm sure they have something planned much worse."

"Oh," said Nijima, and Goro thought she might cry.

But she was silent the rest of their journey, and so was he.

 They were dragged out of the car and into the heady noise and seedy atmosphere of a host club. Nijima was allowed to remain standing, but one of the men kicked Goro down onto his knees and kept his hands bound behind him.

"Oh," slurred a man's voice. "And who are these brats supposed to be?"

Goro looked up and saw a short stout man in a dark blue suit and slicked-back hair staring at them from a plush sofa, a female companion in a low-cut dress by his side. A glass table full of emptied drinks, full ashtrays and other consumable trash segregated the man and Goro and Nijima.

"That's him," Nijima said, breathing heavy and ragged. "Kaneshiro Junya. The one who's been scamming students all over the city and using them." Exhausted as she looked, dried tear tracks on her face, she balled her hands into fists and said, "People like you are the scum of the earth."

"Aw, is that so, sweetheart?" drawled Kaneshiro. "I'm glad you have such a high opinion of me. And what's the other snivelling kid doing here?"

"I'm a concerned citizen," Goro said, and got a whack on the back of the head for it. He grimaced, tasting hurt.

"He came running in when we were talking to little Nijima-chan over here and tried to show us what," said one of the men with a sneer in his voice. "Too bad he's got no juice though."

Nijima had gone deathly pale at the mention of her name. "You - you know who I am," she said, and Kaneshiro and his men laughed.

The woman besides him smiled, but looked away when Goro stared at her. She wasn't a part of this, and didn't care to be.

"You think I wouldn't find out who's been nosing around my runners and trying to get them to fess up my name for a week now?" said Kaneshiro, twisting a thick gold ring on his finger. "Nijima Makoto. Shujin Academy school president... and little sister to Nijima Sae, Tokyo prosecutor." His wide lips curled into a smile that took up half his face. "I'm sure your big sister would be disappointed if she found - " The sound of a phone camera shutter went off. " - you and your runty boyfriend in a place like this, don't you think? Talk about shaming the family name."

More shots, this time of Goro's bruised face and bent position.

"You just had to be a big damn hero, didn't you, kid?" said Kaneshiro, watching him. "Let me tell you this now: spending any time and money on high-maintenance gals like her isn't going to get you anywhere. Spend a night with Koko-chan instead, yeah?"

He grabbed his companion's breast to demonstrate, and Goro closed his eyes. Nijima made a sound like a mouse being crushed underfoot.

The woman - Koko-chan - made no sound at all, but her expression when Goro saw her again was dull.

"Why don't we make a deal?" said Kaneshiro. "Mophead. Forget your girl and start running a few deals for me. Guys like you aren't so bad once you get trained, and maybe I'll lend you Koko-chan once in a while. If you make your quota, that is."

"Don't!" said Nijima. She looked mortified. "Akechi-kun..."

Goro tasted metal in his mouth.

"Interesting," he said. "But one-sided. What'll happen to Nijima-san if I agree?"

"Come on, kid. Use your imagination."

"Then no," said Goro. "I'm sorry, but we're a two-for-one deal."

"Really?" said Kaneshiro. "Even better, then!" He kicked one leg up onto the glass table, knocking over several bottles and a puff of cigar smoke. "How about this? I let you two go now, and you pay me for the honour. Three million yen in three weeks."

"That's ridiculous!" said Nijima. "Who has that kind of money?"

Kaneshiro regarded her coldly, then snorted. "Yeah, you're right. There's two of you, so double it. Six million."

"What? But that's so unfair!"

"Or what," said Goro. "What'll stop us from just leaving town and getting away?"

"Nothing," shrugged Kaneshiro. "I mean, apart from me leaking these stimulating photos of you. Not only will you both be expelled from school, but the cops are going to love knowing how you ended up in a place like this, and... Nijima-chan?"

"What," said Nijima with gritted teeth.

"I hate to see what would happen to your sister the hotshot prosecutor with photos like this of little Makoto all around town," said Kaneshiro. "Haven't you caused her enough trouble already? Ever since your father died - "

"Shut up! Shut up, now!" Nijima surged forward and tried to punch Kaneshiro. Goro's leg whipped out first, and he tripped her. She stumbled, but thankfully didn't smash her head against the glass table.

"Akechi-kun! What the hell!"

"We'll take the deal," Goro said. "All of it. You'll have your money in three weeks' time."

"Now we're talking!" Kaneshiro laughed. "I knew you were the sensible one. Teach Makoto here some manners sometime, will you?"

"Of course, sir," he said, and smiled, even as the ropes Kaneshiro's men had tied around his wrists rubbed so tightly the skin there was coming undone in welts and strips. "We'll see you later, Kaneshiro-san."

"See you later, Mako-chan," said Kaneshiro.

"Six million yen," said Nijima blankly, as they were dumped back onto Central Street and Goro was left rubbing his wrists and sucking his lip in to keep from groaning aloud. "Even Sis doesn't have that kind of money lying around." She sank onto the ground and buried her face in her hands. "What the hell do we do?"

"Give him a taste of his own medicine, I suppose," said Goro, wetting his top lip and wincing when it was stung. Where was Ann and her compact when he needed her?

"How can you be so calm right now."

"Cheer up," said Goro. "At least I didn't throw you to the wolves."

"Yeah, thanks." She looked away with a grimace... then sighed.

"Thank you," she said, in a quieter voice. "I don't know what would have happened to me if you had."

Goro knew.

"I suppose your sister wouldn't be able to help us right now," he said, easing himself down to sit on the curb besides her.

"No." Nijima lowered her eyes to the ground. "Sis is.. believe it or not, she's working the Madarame case."

"Really," said Goro. "For some reason I'd assumed - "

"He'd go to jail right away since he confessed, right?" Nijima grimaced. "He defrauded a lot of people over the years. They're crawling over her workplace trying to get their testimony in, and Sis is responsible for making sure it all makes sense and doesn't weigh her case down. If she finds about us, I..." She closed her eyes. "I can't afford to distract her. Not when she's working on the case that could make or break her career."

"Even if it means ruining your own life?" 

"It's either me or her," said Nijima. "And right now... I'm the one responsible. Just me."

"Are you so sure?" he asked her. "I'm involved too, remember."

She twisted her mouth into a scowl. "By my choosing."

"I could have said no."

"The thing is," said Nijima. "I don't think you would have. You don't seem that type of person."

Goro's own smile dropped. "That's not true," he said, when he was sure she couldn't look at him. "The truth is, I'm more selfish than anyone else in this city. Maybe even all of Japan."

"More than Kaneshiro?"

"Much more."

"I don't believe you," she whispered, and Goro wondered how he could make her see the truth right in front of her. It was so close.

"You know," he said. "I might know how to get that kind of money."

"No kidding. How?"

"I work a few part-time jobs."

"You're a student. How could you be working enough to make that kind of money - "

"It's not important," he interrupted. "The point is, Nijima-san, if needed I could come up with six million yen in three weeks."

"Okay," she said. "Okay. I believe you."

"But," he said. "I don't want to.

"I don't know as much about Kaneshiro as you do," Goro said. "But my first impression has soured me on him.

"I don't want you to get expelled," he said. "Nor halt your sister's career. You've been trying to help people. It's not your fault you got into a situation above your paygrade."

"I know." She sagged. "I know , but after Kamoshida - what you said to me, and how the other students felt - " She swallowed. "You tell me I could have done nothing and still deserved the respect of anyone in Shujin Academy."

"It's not your fault," Goro said. "You're just a student, like me."

Nijima's gaze began to water. "I can't help anyone," she whispered. "Not Shujin's students, or my sister, or you, Akechi-kun."

"Yes," said Goro. "Right now you can't.

"But," he added. "I know people who can."

Chapter Text

8. Steal the mafia boss' heart

He didn't go to Mementos.

He could have. Just the entrance, and a little of Kikuri-Hime's healing dust.

The twins, watching from their prison stoop as Goro heaved in front of them. No, human as they weren't, he couldn't bear to see them look at him in this wretched state.

Caroline would never let him live it down.

So he went back to Yongen, and to the clinic.

 "What on earth..." Dr Takemi dropped a full folio of patients' documents when Goro limped in that early evening. "Inside. Now," she ordered, and locked the patient room's door behind her.

"Tell me," she said in her clipped burr. "Were you tangoing with a rhinoceros before you came in here?"

"How..." said Goro, gritting his teeth as she applied disinfectant to the raw skin beneath his wrists. "Did you know."

"Cut the chatter," she snapped, and he was silent for several excruciating minutes as she did her work. "Let me see your face next.

"When you first came into my clinic looking for work a few months ago," Dr Takemi murmured. "I thought you were the good boy go-home-to-mother immediately type. Not this." She peeled up a chunk of hair that had dried on a bloodied spot on Goro's temple. He gouged his nails into the armrests of his chair and hissed.

"What are you doing to yourself, kid?"

"It's not me," Goro said. "I just happen to run in bad company."

"... fine. If you don't want to tell me, then I don't care. Just don't expect a discount today."

Sigh. He couldn't get away with anything nowadays.

"I ran into someone," Goro said, "who wanted to make me feel small and worthless and weak."

"Did it work?" Dr Takemi wiped the blood and dirt away from his face with disinfectant cloth.

"I was with a friend," he said. "I couldn't show it. Even if I was."

He swallowed.

"And I was."

The tension in her face slackened, if not the precision of her work. "I suppose there's a reason you're not going to the cops."

"They'd laugh in my face," he said. "Tell me I deserved it."

"Why?" she said. "You're a good kid, Akechi. Why wouldn't they believe you?"

Goro sucked in his lower lip.

"Dr Takemi," he whispered. "I'm not a good kid."

"Yeah, you've told me that before," she said, and when he jolted in his seat she added: "Sometimes you say things. When I'm running treatments."

"Oh." He closed his eyes. "Nothing too humiliating, I hope."

"No," said Dr Takemi. "Not where you're concerned."

An hour passed before she let him go, and despite his full wallet packed up a small bag full of medicine and told him to pay her back when he came around for work again. Goro hobbled back to the house and wrote Boss a cursory text about having a headache and going to bed early. Later, when the man knocked on his bedroom door he stayed silent until it stopped, and he heard the padfalls of feet heading upstairs.

He didn't fall asleep until one in the morning, of course. But at least the darkness stopped his head from throbbing.

"Hello everyone," said Nijima the next day after school in the passageway. "Akechi-kun told me you might all be of assistance to me."

"... yeah," said Ann, crossing her arms. "Yeah, we could."

But it was Goro she was looking at, and frowning.

Telling Nijima about their identities as the Phantom Thieves felt strangely anticlimactic, especially since she had suspicions about them already, only Kitagawa and Morgana unknown variables in her theory. Ann and Ryuji were hesitant about letting her into their growing secret, but both seemed to know they'd look monstrous refusing Goro when he was in this delicate state.

He knew that very well indeed.

Finding Kaneshiro's keywords was done easily even without Goro's input, and the most he did was watch Nijima's reaction as the Metaverse melted in around them. "O - oh!" she said, eyes wide and posture stiff. "This is... this is something else entirely."

"Magnificent, isn't it?" said Fox, his hand firm on Goro's back so he didn't stumble as they walked past defective ATM humans in the money-strewn streets.

"It's - Akechi-kun! Your clothes! What just happened?"

"Kaneshiro thinks I'm a threat," Goro said. "Good."

The rest of the Thieves' uniforms soon gave away to costumes themselves, and and Mona popped into two-footed existence. "Here," he said, and blessed Goro with a Diarahan.

It worked. At once his back slackened in tension, his skin didn't itch and burn, and he could stand up straight again. "Oh," Goro exhaled in sweet relief. "Thank you, Mona."

"Mona?" Nijima said. "Akechi-kun, what am I looking at here?"

"Our navigator," Goro said. "Come on. We'll explain along the way."

The exotic UFO that circled the distorted skies of Shibuya sank to the ground as they approached, and laid out its hideous red carpet for them.

"Hey," said Skull before he went up. "You think you can do this? We can come back another time."

Goro shook his head. "The sooner the better. There's five of us anyway - I can stand in as backup for now."

"Very well," said Fox, and he was so close, so close. A headache threatened to split Goro's mind again, and he thought absurdly of fleeing. He didn't want this. "Come, Crow."

"This way," said Panther tersely to Nijima. "You can't fight, so just stay behind us as much as possible."

"Right," said she. "I do know aikido, however. Just in case."

Panther's lip curled. "You'd be better off with a toy gun," she said, and walked into the Palace ahead of them.

"What does she mean by that?" said Nijima.

"Use your imagination, Nijima-san," said Goro, and avoided Fox's arm when the boy passed him up the ramp.

Even his back was beautiful. Goro turned his face and saw Nijima looking at him.

She smiled tentatively. He failed to smile back.

To awaken to one's Persona was to first undergo the living hell that was transformation.

When a caterpillar underwent metamorphosis its old body dissolved entirely into a mass of nutrients and goop inside a casing that rendered it helpless to all in its midst: predators, prey, humans with small minds and insensitive fingers. The butterfly that emerged - if it survived to do so - was another being entirely.

Crow was the Phantom Thieves' sharp-minded leader, the master of many Personas. Crow was elegant, a gentleman connoisseur. Crow would do well in 18th century European novels, where he would seduce exquisite damsels, protect the honour of kings, and slay the evil and corrupted in his midst.

Crow was a hero.

What was Akechi Goro, in comparison?

Akechi Goro was presently a hot mess of a person oscillating between one mood or another and unable to tell which or any was his true self or whether he had ever been born with one. Akechi Goro hungered for friends and accumulated them zealously only to polish them and lay them on the shelf like porcelain figurines.

(Akechi Goro gnawed on his feelings for one person in particular and denied them because he could not, he could not, there was no room in him to - )

Akechi Goro wished he was Crow all the time, but to be Crow thirty times a month and not just five would ruin Akechi Goro and lay his fragile self to utter and complete waste.

No one was born as naturally gracious and stylish as Crow. It just wasn't possible. He was melded from Goro's childhood fantasies and Robin Hood's blessing. Without either of those ingredients, the whole package fell apart. There would be nothing left of him but the shattered mask and pile of plucked down feathers, the scars on the small of his back no one else ever saw.

And what were the Phantom Thieves of Hearts without their leader, without their Prince of Crows, their young King in Yellow and Red and White?

Akechi Goro was tired indeed, and glad when Nijima Makoto tore her metal mask off with blood weeping down her Shadow-yellow eyes and Queen roared to thunder in her wake.

When the blinding blasts of her first Mafrei died out around them, there were tears in Panther’s eyes.

It wasn't forgiveness. Not yet. But her voice was a little kinder around Queen, and when they got to their first safe room Panther offered her the softest seat.

 They tore through Kaneshiro's Palace in three days straight, and Goro's legs quaked when they reached the Treasure at last.

"When should we send the calling card?" said Fox, and Goro said:

"Tomorrow."

"Uh - " Skull looked nervous. "Can we wait a day or two? At least?"

"I'm exhausted," Panther said. "And honestly Crow, you're looking run down yourself."

"I can't afford to miss any more meetings," said Queen. "Not unless I want people asking questions."

"And I," said Fox, "am... hungry. Frequently. More so than usual. Inspiration?"

"Let's go home, everyone," said Mona.

"If you all insist," said Goro, and collapsed the moment they left the Metaverse and he was on solid ground again.

That night he called Becky on Leblanc's yellow payphone. The peppiness of her "Hi, Master!" made him cringe, but he went through with it. If she failed to help he would find Kurusu and shoot him down in the street.

"I find it easier to study here than at home," he said to Boss after closing. "I won't make a mess. I promise."

"Fine," said the older man. "But just because you've been helping Futaba, yeah? Do not touch the Kona."

Goro smiled until he left, then sank his head onto a table and groaned.

"Hey," said Morgana, nuzzling his cheek. "Hey, it's okay."

"I know," Goro whispered. "I don't know why I'm so tired lately."

The cat's eyes bulged out. "Let me see. You're the leader of the Phantom Thieves, you take care of all our shopping and selling, you're a top student at school - "

"I'm not," he said, arm muffling his voice. "I'm slipping. My last test I was top three."

" - you work four part-time jobs, visit at least seven people for several hours per week, and you were assaulted by a yakuza henchman less than ten days ago! Of course you'd be doing horrible right now."

"Oh," said Goro, lifting his head. "Is that all?"

"No one said you had to take on all these burdens, Goro," Morgana said. "It's okay if you want to sleep in. You don't always have to watch weird shows with Futaba or go out with Ann, or - "

"Kurusu," Goro said. "I wonder what Kurusu's up to lately."

He hadn't come to Leblanc since the TV station interview, and it was annoying. What happened to unleashing the whirlwind?

Why don't you talk to him? a voice murmured in his mind, and he shoved it back down. Kurusu should contact him .

(... why?)

Morgana laid himself flat on the table. "Just take some time to yourself," he said. "Kaneshiro can't wait, maybe, but everything else can. The sky isn't going to fall if you're not perfect for a single day."

Hah. Wouldn't it?

"You promised me. You promised we'd be a team, and right now the team can't do without its leader. So, Crow?"

"Yes," he mumbled.

"You need to relax and have some fun. That's an order from your navigator."

"Oh dear. What are you going to do if I disagree?"

"I'll tell Sojiro you're too lazy to compost the coffee grounds. That you just throw them out when he's not looking."

Goro's shoulders trembled with fatigued laughter. "Morgana, you and Boss can't even talk to each other. How are you going to do that?"

"Goro, please!" said Morgana. "I'm a magical talking cat.  I can do anything ."

Becky came ten minutes late, and her maid costume and pigtails were terrifying enough Goro almost backed out the moment she curtsied at him.

"So!" she said in a voice nearly as high-pitched as Futaba's. "You'd just like a massage for the night, Master?"

"Please... don't call me that," said Goro.

Rigid smile still: "What should I call you then?"

"I don't know." Shrug. "I just want to get the stiffness out of my shoulders. Someone told me you did good work?"

"Coming right up! Where should we start?"

"Upstairs, if you will," said Goro, having cleared out the attic some time ago, and hoped he didn't come off as a serial killer in search of his next victim.

"Oh, brother," Morgana muttered, and went to sleep in one of the booths.

Becky worked.

Becky worked beautifully .

He ought to thank Kurusu.

No, that would just put a dumb grin on the boy's face. He didn't need the satisfaction.

Still, Goro hadn't felt so good in weeks.

No, ever. The evenings that followed a run in Palaces were excruciating. Even an afternoon jog in Mementos often sent his legs burning.

He paid Becky extra, and said, "I might call again soon."

"Uh huh!" said she in that bright voice, though for some reason she had refused to look him directly the whole time she was here.

(Was she afraid of getting convicted for some sex crime if she knew how young he was? He did have his uniform on.)

 He couldn't help it.

Goro: Thank you.

Kurusu: ?

Kurusu: Don't remember doing anything.

Goro: The maid service.

Goro: Becky.

Goro: I'm ashamed to admit it but she was wonderful and I don't feel like warmed over death anymore.

Kurusu: !

Kurusu: !!

Kurusu: !!!!!!!!!!!

Kurusu: You used her? Unbelievable.

Kurusu: It's great but

Kurusu: You've been feeling bad lately?

Kurusu: I had no idea.

Kurusu: I mean I haven't been to Leblanc in like two weeks but

Goro: It's alright.

Kurusu: Did you miss me?

Kurusu: Silence means yes.

Goro: No comment.

Kurusu: Aww.

Goro: I need to go to bed soon, Kurusu-san.

Goro: I just wanted to thank you.

Kurusu: You're welcome.

Kurusu: I know I tease you but I mean well.

Goro: Do you now.

Goro: If your fans could hear you...

Kurusu: They get enough of me as it is.

Kurusu: Maybe I don't want every aspect of me for public consumption.

Goro:  I couldn't imagine.

Goro: If I was under your kind of scrutiny I think I would wilt under the pressure and flee.

Kurusu: The spotlight isn't all bad.

Kurusu: Get a lot of perks out of it.

Kurusu: Nice apartment.

Kurusu: Tons of excused absences from school.

Kurusu: Comped meals.

Goro: Stop.

Kurusu: Admit it you're jealous.

Goro: I'm not.

Goro: I'm really, really not.

Kurusu: If you say so.

Goro: I have to go to bed.

Kurusu: Ah.

Goro: You?

Kurusu: Nah, still working on something.

Goro: Hard-working as ever.

Kurusu: You're the one who said my reasoning blew chunks.

Goro: I did not.

Goro: Don't put words in my mouth.

Kurusu: I'm an artist; I paraphrase.

Goro: Good night, Kurusu-san.

Kurusu: You can call me Akira you know.

Kurusu: I don't mind.

Goro: ? We hardly know each other.

Kurusu: Then consider it an invitation to know each other more.

Kurusu: That's the endgame after all.

Goro: I'm afraid to even ask what you mean by that.

Kurusu: Are you?

Goro: Good night.

Goro: Kurusu-kun.

Kurusu: Good enough.

Kurusu: Senpai.

Kaneshiro fell.

Kaneshiro fell, and begged for mercy.

Kaneshiro begged and begged them not to kill him.

(They weren't going to. It wasn't in Queen’s nature, and by now it was tradition to let the newest member of the team make that call. It didn’t bother Goro that he had never been allowed to make a choice himself. The Thieves wouldn't be here if he had.)

Still, Kaneshiro was petrified.

"What are you so afraid of!" said Queen, backing up in disgust with Kaneshiro's Treasure under her arm as his Shadow crawled and tried to grasp at her legs. "I told you, we're letting you go. As long as you atone in the real world - "

"It's not enough," he slobbered. "Not for him. Not for the Warden."

This again.

"Who," said Goro. "Who is this Warden?" Madarame had babbled on about him too, though in terms too vague to be useful.

Kaneshiro cowered. "Another Metaverse user."

"Another?" said Panther. "How is that even possible? Crow?"

"I'm not sure." Goro sheathed his lightsaber.

The Velvet Room.

Igor.

Had he given the power to another?

Were the Thieves not alone in this world?

"Tell us what the Warden does," said Fox, assault rifle slung to his back. "If he is so awful to make you fear so."

"He kills," breathed in Kaneshiro. "He's threatened to kill me before, if I didn't change my ways. Even worse, he threatened to rampage me!"

"Rampage?" said Mona. "Don't tell me. Crow, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"The Warden," said Goro. "He's responsible for the rampage incidents in Tokyo, isn't he?"

"Yes," wept Kaneshiro. "And if you want me to live and turn myself in you have to take my Treasure now and leave. Leave before he comes back."

They left, and the Palace crumbled behind them.

"There's another one in this world like me," Goro said behind bars that night, and with smugness in his smile, Igor said:

"Yes."

"Tell me."

"Not so fast, inmate!" Caroline barked. "You don't have the right to demand information like that of our master."

"Ye - yes," said Justine, slower than usual to back up her twin. "You must focus only on your own rehabilitation. Not that of another."

"Forgive me," said Goro. "I find it hard to believe that someone killing Palace rulers in the Metaverse and causing people to rampage in the real world is undergoing any kind of rehabilitation whatsoever."

"So it seems," Igor agreed.

So the old man was determined to tell him nothing. "Very well," Goro said. "Let me ask you this, though: will I encounter him in the Metaverse?"

But the only response he got back was laughter, and the memory of chains in a blue void as he sank back into the darkness of sleep.

 A week passed where all Goro did was live and breathe and sleep.

(Well, not quite.)

When it was over he went to the Shibuya underground walkway and found Kitagawa, dreamy-eyed as usual.

The sight of him still made Goro feel things, but now - well-rested, well-fed, and largely indolent - he was better able to resist it.

"Shall we?" he said, and Kitagawa Yusuke said:

"Yes!"

"It's done," said Nijima one sleepy afternoon in late June on the school rooftop, airy breeze passing through their uniforms with a pleasant chill. "No more suggestion board. No more sneaking about for the Principal either."

"I beg your pardon?" said Goro.

She beamed. "I told him to mind his own business regarding the Phantom Thieves. Frankly I never would have found out if you hadn't told me yourself."

"You were close," Goro assured her. "You were very close."

"Thank you, Akechi-kun, but it was all circumstantial. It was hardly as if I had a tape of you declaring that you were the Thieves or something so damning."

"Ryuji," they said in unison and Nijima laughed, while Goro found it hard to suppress the smile that came to him. It was true, wasn't it?

"Season one overrrr," sang Futaba as she pressed eject on the DVD player, "and season two start!" She looked over at Goro and gasped. "Are you crying? Are you?"

"... I'm not," he said, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve. "We've just been watching for a long time, and I'm quite tired - "

"Oh my god, Akechi! You are totally leaking tears right now."

" I am not," he said, and shielded his face when she took out her phone to take a shot.

"Too late, nerd! Your face is my wallpaper now!"

 "I don't believe it," said Dr Takemi, sagging into her chair. "Miwa-chan is still alive."

 "A Holy Stone?" said Goro. "That is... quite expensive."

"For the ability to cure all your problems," said the fortune teller, "what is a hundred thousand yen in comparison but a pittance?"

What a crock of shit. He bought one anyway.

“When I’m human again,” Morgana began, curled up at Goro's side in bed, and stopped.

“You will be,” Goro said. “We keep heading deeper into Mementos for you, remember?”

“I do, but - “ The cat rolled onto his back. “What if I turn out to be different than I am now?”

“We’ll still be friends.”

“What if I don’t like sushi anymore?”

“Morgana, I seriously doubt that.”

“What if - “

“What if what?” said Goro, and squeezed his paw.

Morgana gazed up at him. “What if this is good as it’s ever going to get for me, and the me that turns out to be human isn't good enough?"

“Is the life you lead now so bad?” said Goro dryly. “You don’t pay for rent nor food, I physically carry you everywhere, you’re pampered by half the female population of Tokyo, and - “

“It’s not the same,” the cat mumbled. "You'd hate it if you were me too."

"I'd want to be an actual crow, yes." Goro lifted his arm and stroked Morgana's belly in gentle waves, one after the other. "Morgana."

"Yes?"

"I'm your friend too," he said, and when the cat didn't respond: "Do you think I am, at least?"

"Yeah." Morgana sighed. "Of course, Goro."

"Do you believe me when I say we - the Thieves and I - will dig down as deep into as Mementos as we can? For your sake?"

"... yeah. Yeah, I can."

"You have nothing to worry about, then," Goro whispered. "Go to sleep."

Morgana closed his eyes for a long moment before snapping them back open. "Hey! That's my line!"

“I admire you,” said Yoshida over a large beef bowl. “With your background you would have greater cause than anyone to resent our society’s institutions. Yet you choose to involve yourself in politics and aim to reform the system from within.”

“Sir, I just hold your sign up while you speak,” Goro said.

“We all have to start somewhere,” said Yoshida. “And already you are in far better a place than I was at your age. No one will ever call you No-Good Tora.”

“No,” Goro agreed, not in the least because that wasn’t his name.

 "Thanks for coming to Inokashira Park with me, senpai," said Suzui as she sat on the wooden railing. "I... have some good news. From the Phansite."

"Oh," Goro said, not even trying to hide his lack of surprise. Why did this matter so much to her?

"Here." She reached into her bag and thrust out a portfolio thick with papers. Goro took it, bemused.

"Emails?" he said. "You printed all these out?"

"Read them through," Suzui said. "They're thank you letters from all the requests we - the Thieves fulfilled," she corrected.

Sigh. "Well, you're a part of it too, Suzui-san," he said.

"I'm glad you think so," said Suzui. "But - "

"There's no buts about it. Without your work the Thieves would be..."

Hm. They'd probably have a lot more free time, actually.

He read through them all nonetheless, and felt the core of his body flush in warm and strange ways when it ended. 

"It feels good to help people," said Suzui. "Doesn't it, senpai."

As if he knew anything about that.  Goro wanted to shake his head, but found himself immobile. He couldn't even protest now, could he?

"It's nice," he said finally. "I'm glad the victims are alright."

"Yeah. Me too," said Suzui, and when he looked back at her she was wiping away the tears from her eyes.

 "Yo!" said Ryuji with Goro behind him, swinging open the ratty old door to a cramped and narrow restaurant in a side alley. "Mom, I'm home!"

It was an okonomiyaki place, he recognized, by the flat grills on each table, though there were few customers this time of afternoon. A plump middle-aged woman with greying hair came out from behind a cloth flap and clasped her hands at the sight of them.

"Welcome home, Ryuji - oh! Did you bring a friend?"

"Uh, yeah. This is Akechi, a senior from school."

"Good afternoon, ma'am," Goro said, and bowed.

"So you're Akechi-kun!" she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "Ryuji's told me all about you. How you saved him from that disgusting Kamoshida and cleared his name from all those horrible things people said about him." She ushered them to a table. "Sit down, sit down! What would you like to drink?"

"Oh, no," said Goro. "Ryuji here did most of the work revealing Kamoshida's crimes. I was just around - "

Ryuji elbowed him before he could finish, and Goro lost his words entirely by the affront. "Dude, you don't have to lie. You helped me out." He grinned at his mom. "He's the real deal. Seriously."

"I... well yes," Goro said blankly, when two disturbingly well-matched smiles (Ryuji's with more teeth) came his way. "I suppose I did?"

"Have some okonomiyaki on the house," Ryuji's mother said, bowing deeply. "As thanks for helping my son. He really had no friends left at school before you came along - "

"Mom! Are you seriously going to sell me out like that? Now?"

"It's the truth, Ryuji!"

"Thank you," said Goro, trying to recover the sanity left in the room. "But I couldn't possibly take business away like that, and - "

"Please eat," said Ryuji's mother, and it was not a request.

"I'm... grateful, then." Goro was stunned. What was that? Had a Confusion spell just hit him?

"What manners! Ryuji, you could learn a thing or two from him!"

"Come on, Mom, I try!"

"Try harder!" she said, and sent him to get their drinks and mixing bowls, while Goro sat with his back pressed to the wall and watched mother nag son with heaviness in his heart, and a prickle of something else.

It's not about you,  he told himself, when the food was cooking on the grill and the woman came by to help them flip the okonomiyaki perfectly. He has problems too. He's not perfect.

No. But some things were worth imperfection.

Goro thanked them both for the meal, and left a paper crane in the form of a tip.

"Kaoru's my kid," said Iwai. "And I would kill to protect him. You get me?"

"Yes," said Goro. "I do."

 "Checkmate." 

The joy on Togo-san's face lasted all of one picturesque moment until she looked up from the shogi board and found Goro staring at his felled pieces as if they had personally gotten his entire army slain and botched his morning bath with dried flowers and herbs and also taken a shit in it.

"Akechi-kun? Is something wrong?"

Her words broke him out of thought, and then Goro was back on the hard wooden bench with her, in this quiet church in Kanda few occupied this time of evening. 

"Your reputation precedes you... thoroughly," he said, smile on despite the loss so lopsided that if it had been in the Metaverse he would have submitted to a one-shot kill on his second turn. "My efforts didn't match yours, Togo-san, and I'm sorry about that."

"No! No! Please don't apologize." She brought up her hands and fluttered them about her face as she spoke - a nervous tic? "You told me yourself you were a beginner. It's my fault, for getting so caught up into the emotion, like I was playing a fellow expert. I should have behaved myself as your teacher."

"Teacher?" quoted Goro. "I thought I was merely your practice partner."

(And punching dummy.)

"... yes." Togo-san smiled. "I was shy too, in the beginning. Spent so much time dwelling over every move that I was paralyzed by indecision. You will get better with time. I know it."

"Thank you," he said, mollified despite his defeat. "By the way, how old were you when you began playing?"

"Oh, seven," said Togo-san, and missed the scowl that flickered over his face for half a second before it smoothed over into polite neutrality again. "Another round before the last train, Akechi-kun?"

"With pleasure," he said, and lost before he put down his second piece.

 "Easy now." Boss stared at him with the eyes of a military instructor while Goro made his third pot of coffee that evening. "Your hands aren't shaking anymore," he remarked.

"Aren't they? It must be because I've burned them numb," Goro said as he poured out two cups for them.

"Ah, don't be so dramatic." Boss walked past the counter and sat down on a stool. "Well?"

"Enjoy, sir," Goro said, and watched while the man took his first sip.

Boss was silent, but he wasn't spitting it out like he had the first time Goro "brewed" him some black sludge.

"Better," he said. "Using the good stuff might actually pay off now."

"Oh." Goro looked away, flushing. "Thank you."

"Taste it," said Boss. "Without the sugar, first. You don't need it."

It was the only way he could get it down though, usually. How did so many adults drink it like water?

Goro cupped his mug with both hands and drank.

Oh, he thought. 

The look on his face must have shown, for Boss just about cackled. "See? Isn't it better like this?"

"It's..." He could taste its memory still on his tongue. A little like a lover's kiss, pressed on the nape of his neck. "Nice."

"Good enough to drink," said Boss. "One day, maybe even good enough to sell."

 "She's something else, isn't she?" said Goro, as Mika walked past them after another spiteful effort at sabotaging Ann's modelling work.

"Yeah," said Ann. "Totally awful."

"We could change her heart," said Goro. "If she's giving you so much trouble."

"No way. Just because she's petty or something?"

Goro turned to Ann to object, but she was smiling. Was this situation amusing to her?

"You want to be a serious model, don't you?" he asked. "People like her will tear you down before you've even had an opportunity to grow. Let's not leave it to chance."

"Maybe. But I don't care."

"You don't?"

"I mean, just look at her!" Ann waved a hand in the distance, though her rival had already vanished into the human sea that was Shibuya on a busy afternoon. "She tries to be sly, but she's not subtle. And sooner or later things are going to stop making sense for her, and people aren't going to listen to her BS anymore."

Goro frowned. "Do you think it's that easy for retribution to find its way to people like her?"

"Not retribution," said Ann. "Karma."

His lip curled. "Isn't that what we do?"

"Is it?" said Ann, and he wondered what she was asking him.

"I mean..." she added. "Senpai. Why do the Phantom Thieves do what they do?"

"They change the hearts of people who can't be pursued by ordinary means," Goro said slowly, as if reciting from an answer key. "And therefore improve society by fighting for justice."

"Fighting for who, senpai."

He blinked. "Victims of abuse, and those who have no one else to turn to."

"Exactly." Ann beamed. "We fight for people who - for whatever reason - can't fight back themselves. We help the helpless. That's what makes us who we are."

Oh.

Of course.

Goro let out a laugh. "You've thought about this a lot, Ann."

"You and Makoto can't be the only brainiacs around here." She winked. "Did you get what I meant, though? About not using our powers on people like Mika? Because the truth is..." She hesitated. "I was helpless, before. When I thought all I had was Shiho, and no one else cared. Then you walked into Shujin like some mysterious stranger with a purpose and somehow let Ryuji sneak on your ride, and well - " She shrugged. "I'm not the same girl I was in the beginning. I can take on small fry like Mika myself."

"So you can," said Goro, and felt his own imagination stretch to fit hers. The Thieves needed Panther as much as they needed Crow, it was clear now. "Well said, Ann."

"Thanks! Now tell me: are you in the mood for crepes, or are you in the mood for crepes?"

"Thank you, Akechi-kun!" said Okumura Haru, holding the door open for him as he dragged in a sack of soil to the rooftop all the way from the school gates. "I had no idea you were so strong."

"Oh," said Goro, sweating rain and bullets. "I do try."

She giggled, peach-soft hair bouncing around her cheeks as she did so. "It's so odd. We've been in the same class this whole year, yet we've only just spoken now, and because you felt sorry for me trying to get all this up by myself."

"Okumura-san," said Goro. "I don't feel sorry for you. I admire you."

"You do?" Her cheeks dusted pink. "All I do is grow vegetables though."

"You grow life," he told her. "Food. Sustenance. What keeps people going. I find that... something to respect. Tremendously so."

"... you're so kind," said Okumura. "I have some leftover produce from my last harvest. Would you like to try some?"

"I'd love to."

 "It's not working out." Kitagawa threw down his paintbrush and began pacing. "I beg your pardon, Akechi-san, but I don't think this session is going to be very productive for us."

"No?" said Goro, watching with a hand on his cheek as Kitagawa somehow managed to avoid stepping on all the artistic clutter on the floor of his dorm room at Kosei as he walked to and fro the door and window. Goro had ostensibly been modelling for him for the past hour, staying quiet on a stool with one (dead) leg crossed over the other while Kitagawa sketched his canvas and painted as if a demon had possessed him. 

And all for naught, perhaps, if the anxiety that had overtaken him since they encountered that irritating Kawanabe was going to last.

"Kitagawa-san," he said. "Sit down."

"I cannot - "

"Come here," Goro said, and held out a hand in offering.

It was foolish, most likely, especially since his own feelings were concerned. But Kitagawa obeyed, and pulled his own stool over. He didn't take Goro's hand, but then, it was merely a figurative proposal and neither desired more than they already had from each other.

"What bothers you," he said. "Truly." When Kitagawa looked away, he added, "My understanding of the arts lack considerably next to yours, but I can try to understand your current predicament if you'll share your thoughts with me."

"We... have been through much together," the boy admitted, and there was a slight flush on his face. "Very well."

It was better, Goro thought, when he was in control, and Kitagawa was only a friend. He could help him more like this. 

"Go," he murmured, and Kitagawa began.

"My work is... becoming distorted," Kitagawa said, his hands pale and fingers slender as they came up to his face in brief touch. "Whenever I paint I am distracted. In class, or with you, or on my own. I cannot think as I used to - only of the art, of my intentions, the single-mindedness of my purpose - " 

"As if you've lost it," Goro said. "As if your whole soul has become perverted."

"Exactly!" Kitagawa's eyes widened, dark and blue and long-lashed as a maiden's. "I see things. Now that I am no longer in Sensei's home there are so many distractions, so much petty chatter and desire and greed that it feels as if my head will split in half from the great mass of it all."

"People can be repulsive," Goro agreed. Then: "But you cannot go back."

"The police will not likely let me in agan," said Kitagawa. "Not that I wish to," he added with determination.

Goro couldn't pretend the statement didn't please him. He smiled, and Kitagawa noticed.

"Why do you take joy in me saying that?"

He pressed his lips together. "It's not obvious?"

"I'd like to hear you say it," Kitagawa said, and Goro sighed.

"That day," he said. "When I was modelling for you. I wasn't lying."

"About...?"

"Seeing myself in you," Goro said, and when the boy made a coughing noise he sat up straight. "Kitagawa-san, I don't lie about everything."

"I know," gasped he. "But I assumed - "

"That I was pushing it?" A nod. "That I was doing it for the mission?"

Another nod, this time with force.

How to say this. Goro exhaled, looking around everywhere but there in front of him. "... it was my idea, you know. Going after Madarame at all."

"What do you mean by that?" Kitagawa's voice grew small, soft.

"The others had no intention of going to the exhibition. I did, because I thought it an honour. That was before I knew." His smile pursed in distaste. "Then, the day before, I did research - for my own education, of course. Then I found a few of the allegations regarding Madarame online, and since I knew he would never tell me the truth - "

"I was there," Kitagawa said.

"I did enjoy the tour you gave me," Goro said. "Honestly. If nothing else had happened I would have considered it a memory to appreciate over the years. Because - " He stopped, for without thinking a haze of confession had overtaken him, and now he ought to be careful about what he let free.

But Kitagawa sat leaning forward on his stool, and their knees almost brushed, cloth to cloth.

"When I was in Fuefuki," said Goro. "I never received an invitation like that. Not by someone like Madarame. Nor you."

"Like me," Kitagawa echoed. "I am a student, Akechi-san. Only a few of my works have appeared in exhibition."

"Then it's seven more than mine," said Goro, and laughed. "Did you think I was lying? I know your bibliography quite well by now."

"No, I - " Kitagawa's face had gone pink as a sakura blossom. "You honour me," he whispered. "With such praise. Thank you for choosing me - for saving me."

"You saved yourself," said Goro. "When you found Goemon, and he found you. Only those with the strength of heart to understand their true selves are worthy of such affirmation.

"And," he added, "he's with you even now, isn't he?"

"Yes," said Kitagawa. "And calling me very silly for my present angst, saying I am a great artist nonetheless and should not take the vulgarities of the world to heart. It is not helping."

"I'm sorry," said Goro. "Robin Hood is even worse."

Perhaps their conversation wasn't enough to rid Kitagawa of his anxiety overnight, but when he picked his brush back up again it was no longer with a tense hand. They went out for a walk on the school grounds after - which contained a garden and park in the traditional style (if only Goro had had the sense to apply here, but no) - and had a conbini dinner of onigiri and croquettes and oden on a bench, sharing a container of milk tea in between them.

"Thank you," said Kitagawa, when it was dark and he walking Goro back to his station.

"Not at all," Goro said. "I enjoyed it."

"Then, perhaps - " Hesitation like always, after the end of every working session they had together. When would he finally stop doubting Goro's faith in him? "Next Saturday, the same time?"

"It's already in my schedule," said Goro, and butterflies sang when Kitagawa said:

"Yes, of course! How could I forget," and laughed.

"This is nonsense. I'm going home."

"Akechi. Akechi. Please." Kurusu snagged his sleeve to stop him from leaving, while Goro glared. "I'm serious. This is a real case."

"Finding a lost cat in a park is not a case," said Goro. "It's a mission for animal control. Not a private detective."

"Akechi," said Kurusu. "Are you saying this job's not good enough for me?"

"Shirogane would have never wasted time on something like this."

"Hey," said Kurusu, holding up his hands. "I'm not Shirogane. You know? I do my own thing. I enjoy doing things like this. Solving murders and putting the bad guys away isn't the only way to fix society. People need help with the smaller things too."

"I know." Why did he feel so frazzled? "It's just - I used to want to do this for a living."

Kurusu's smile grew. "You're kidding."

"When have I ever," said Goro.

"No, no, you're right." The boy shrugged. "But then, why not make something special of it? Make this your first case as a junior detective. Solve it and I'll treat you - and split the reward money."

Goro's lip curled. "I'm not going to be your assistant, Kurusu."

"Did I say that? You said that," said Kurusu. "Help me out here. What are you so afraid of?"

Goro looked away.

"Let's go buy some cat treats," he mumbled, and pretended he didn't hear when Kurusu all but whooped in joy after.

 Later, they found Fufu-chan on the highest branch in the tallest tree in the park. "I am not going up that thing," Goro said.

"Then give me a boost," said Kurusu, and scaled it like a gymnast.

He came back down with an upset cat in his arms and a dozen fresh scratches all over his face and arms. "Ridiculous," Goro said, glad he always carried a First Aid kit with him nowadays. "Every part of you is ridiculous. Put it down so I can disinfect you properly."

"Nuh uh. She's going to run otherwise," said Kurusu, and fed Fufu-chan a stream of treats in his lap while Goro bent over the two of them awkwardly as he tried to work.

"Hold your face up," he ordered. "Look at me. Yes. Don't move."

Kurusu studied him with those grey eyes as Goro dabbed at his injuries with cotton swabs and rubbing alcohol, wincing all the while. "Stay still," Goro murmured, leaning back when the last of the bandages were applied. "There."

Kurusu checked himself in the tiny mirror that came in the kit, and twitched. "You may have overdone it."

"I did not," said Goro pleasantly. "At the least you look civilized now."

"Half of my face is covered in gauze."

"I don't see the problem.” He began to pack up.

Kurusu started laughing. "You! I see through you. Pretending to be a nice upstanding boy when all you want is to commit petty revenge upon a poor thing like me."

"You're not a poor thing, Kurusu. In fact, I'm positive you're the devil incarnate."

An imitation of an imitation of a groan. "Don't say something so hurtful," Kurusu said. "I'm not the devil. I'm a paragon of justice."

"If you're a paragon of justice," retorted Goro, "then I'm the biggest fool in the world."

In the end, those words would come back to haunt him.

Chapter Text

9. Prove your justice to society II

At some point Futaba began to sleep over at the house, and no one stopped her.

At first it was merely staying the night when a binge session went on long past reason and she missed the last train once, then twice. A quick phone call to Isshiki-san gave no objections, and Goro laid out a futon for her in the spare room upstairs while Futaba was in the bath.

He didn't mind it in the beginning. Futaba was clever; her homework got done. Despite her personal clutter, she picked up after herself and recycled like a champ.

Then the sight of her neon green toothbrush greeted Goro in the morning without end. Enough of her clothes accumulated at the house for her own spin cycle and clothesline, and somewhere along the way she had begun washing dishes at Leblanc and taking out the trash.

(Kurusu noticed her too, asked Goro if she was his little sister.

“Just a family friend,” Goro had replied, aware of Boss in the washroom nearby.

Kurusu’s eyes crinkled. “That's the first time you've mentioned that word to me.”

“What, friend?”

“No. Family.”)

Goro of all people couldn’t pretend she didn’t belong. Dinner with her and Boss was always an experience. Despite a steady diet of Jagariko and Pepsi she had a chef’s tongue, and every other word out of her was a comment on the flavour of Goro’s (improving) cooking. It kept him on his toes.

Isshiki-san had yet to retrieve her daughter, which put him in an uncomfortable state of mind. Futaba didn't speak of her mother around him, nor Boss. And could he approach her and have her listen to him? Goro doubted it. Futaba masterminded everything they talked about with terrifying efficiency.

Plus, Boss was a pushover when she was concerned - both Futaba and her mother. To be in the heart of this silent spat must twist him up inside, though he never expressed any of this worry aloud.

And to think he believed Goro the one to be keeping secrets.

Ultimately it came to a head one lazy evening in Leblanc. Goro was closing, and Futaba idly scrolling through her laptop in a booth. What she was doing with that thing he never understood, as whenever he came near she would stop her lightspeed typing and glare until her screen was no longer in his line of sight.

It was an evening like any other. Only this time, when Goro was wiping down the table next to her Futaba lifted her head from her screen and said, “How do you think the Phantom Thieves get people to change their hearts?”

Goro’s hand stilled on his rag. They'd never talked about the Thieves before.

“What do you mean?” He kept his voice low and calm.

“I mean…” Futaba unfurled in her seat like a cat. “It's clear that whatever they're doing has worked. From that dirtbag teacher to that artist who was abusing his apprentices to this whole yakuza boss fessing up to the cops! Even my classmates at Kosei are trying to figure it out, and usually all they care about are grades and getting into college early and portfolios.” She took her glasses off and rubbed at her eyes. “I'd do anything to find out.”

Perhaps now was the time. Goro slid into the seat facing her and murmured, “I'm guessing you're not asking out of curiosity’s sake alone.”

“Aren't I,” said Futaba, but her voice had no life in it.

“Futaba,” he said. “Can you tell me what's really going on?” When she didn't respond. “With you and your mother.”

Futaba stared up at Leblanc’s ceiling, eyes glossy and unfocused.

Out of nowhere she muttered, “You should be grateful you have parents at all, Futaba…”

“Futaba.”

“It's no good.” She sat up straight again, jammed her glasses on again and began to collect her things. “I'm gonna go home.”

“To Isshiki-san?”

“No, to Sojiro’s. Duh, I'm going home to my mom!” She stood up with her bag and glared. “Not that she'll even be there. See you later, nerd.”

“Futaba - “ He got up, but she ran out of Leblanc and was gone in a heartbeat.

Goro didn't see her for another week. By then, she had already done something both of them would regret.

 Summer vacation was fast approaching, and with them, final exams. There was no need to worry about Nijima or Kitagawa in that regard; both had superior intellects and discipline where it mattered.

Futaba, the current prodigal child, was also a genius. Not that she would be grinning at the moment to hear Goro praise her.

Unfortunately for his other friends…

“It's hopeless, man,” groaned Ryuji during another study session in the school library. “You can talk your head off about kanji all you like, but I'm not gonna remember the distinction between the characters for crow and bird no matter how many times you remind me.”

Goro fought the urge to scowl. A heat wave was roiling over much of Tokyo, and everyone smelled like degenerates in their summer uniforms, himself included. He had his hair in a ponytail to keep it from sticking to the back of his neck and dripping sweat, and he was tempted to borrow Nijima's headband to keep his bangs out of his face as well.

“Ann,” he said, turning to Ryuji’s partner in intellectual struggle. “Tell me you understand material as basic as this.”

“Uh…” She blinked at him long and slow, as if she had just woken from a nap, a strand of hair sticking out over one eye. Her voluminous blonde hair had gone on an all-out frizz attack in the wet heat of summer and was thus in quarantine in the shape of a tight bun atop her head.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, ducking her head low. “I could lie, but you'd figure it out right away.”

“Suzui?” Please, let one of them get it, at least.

“I understand,” Suzui said, a damp napkin pressed to her brow to absorb sweat. “I think. The kanji for crow is missing a line, see, whereas the bird kanji…”

Goro closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat. Not everyone had a patience for studying, but nearly failing as the two blonds had done in their last test was unacceptable. Whether they went to college or not, a good test score meant…

Meant…

The heat was making him blank out on a lot of things. Why did a good test matter so much?

Oh, right. Without good scores he would have been another forgotten dimwit at the institution, destined for a lifetime of grunt labour, cheap wages, and awful sake and burnt yakitori at a mediocre bar at the end of the day.

Without the scores that had once informally coined Goro as the smartest boy in Fuefuki City, he would have never gone to high school at all.

He opened his eyes again.

"Ryuji," he said. "What are your plans after high school?"

"My plans?" Ryuji put down the pen he had just spent the past half-hour spinning around on his fingers. "Never thought about it that far. I still have time, don't I?" He looked slightly more concerned when Goro didn't say anything. "Don't... I?"

"In middle school you wanted to be an Olympic runner," Ann teased.

In response Ryuji just sank into his seat like a turtle retreating into its shell. "Yeah," he muttered. "Ain't like that's gonna happen now."

"Hey. I didn't mean it that way."

"I know, dude. But sometimes someone just sucks the life outta something you used to love, and..."

"It's terrible, isn't it," said Suzui.

"Oh jeez. Sorry, Suzui." Now Ryuji looked embarrassed.

"No - it's okay. It's okay," she repeated. "I started playing volleyball when I was six. The whole family would get together at my grandparents' place in Okinawa for the summer, and my cousins and I would spend all day on the beach and play until sundown. Then we'd eat spam musubi and pineapple and shrimp, and..." She looked down, playing with her fingers. "I wish that was what I was reminded of whenever I look at a net now, or go to gym class, instead of... him."

"Shiho..." Ann put an arm around Suzui, and again Goro was struck by their casual intimacy. Whether it was platonic or otherwise he didn't know. Only that it was effortless.

He thought of doing that to someone (to whom? Kitagawa? Kurusu?) and bit his lip. He couldn't imagine.

"We don't have to talk about him anymore," Ann said. "Kamoshida's going to jail."

"It's not about Kamoshida." Suzui replaced the soaked napkin on her brow with another from her tissue box, though her hand was trembling. "Even before him, volleyball was all I was ever good at. Now I don't have the club anymore, and..."

"You run the Phansite," Ryuji said. "Don't tell me that takes no talent."

"It does feel good to do that," Suzui admitted. "But it's the Phantom Thieves who are doing the real work. I'm just... the vehicle for filtering requests, and deleting rude comments, and - "

"Hey," said Ann. "Stop being so down on yourself and tell me. If nothing held you back - money or hard work or bad memories, what would you do? What would you want to be in life?"

Suzui put her head in her hands, and sniffled.

They weren't the only ones in the library, though their table was far from the librarian's eye. A couple of students stared at the noise, began to whisper. Goro matched them stare for stare until they broke away.

"It's alright," Goro said in a soft voice, and wondered when he had become so tender. "You don't have to go right away. Ryuji? What would you want to do?"

"Me?" Ryuji looked uncomfortable. "I... yeah, I would have kept running if the track team was like it used to be. Or with some other guys, maybe. Even now, when the cold goes through my clothes on a morning run but my body's already burning up and nothing can catch up to me, I - " He stopped, and looked at the three of them, staring.

"How does it feel?"

"Like I'm the wind itself," Ryuji said. "And nothing else matters."

At his words Suzui lifted her head.

"I wish you'd keep running too, Ryuji," said Ann. "But... I get it if you can't."

"Yeah," said Ryuji. "That's the thing, isn't it? Because I can still run for fun, and to stay in shape, but to go back to a team situation with daily practices and weigh-ins and competitions..." He dug his nails into the tabletop. "Somehow it just makes me want to puke. And I hate that I feel that way, 'cause if I could take it all back I'd - "

He looked away.

"It's... hard," said Suzui, and her gaze upon Ryuji was searching. "Like... it should be easier to separate the good things from the bad. Because it wasn't volleyball itself that took over my life, but Kamoshida. I should still be able to go onto the court and play. And I can't."

"Do... you have anything like that, senpai?" Ann asked.

"Like what?" said Goro.

"Something you used to like, but can't anymore. Because of someone, or..."

They were all looking at him.

"I'm not sure." He wet his mouth. "I never had much in the way of... oh. Wait."

He remembered.

Skinned knees.

The bleeding.

The creak of rusted spinning wheels.

His own patchy breath.

"... there used to be a bicycle at the institution," he said. Nobody else interrupted him, and so he went on. "A worker there gave it to us to share because his son had outgrown it. None of the boys knew how to ride it - myself included - and a lot gave up after they fell. It was too much for them, but I kept going. I wanted to learn." He laughed, aware of his throat tightening up. "Eventually it became mine, and I used it to get around town. It was... fun. I never knew the city could be so beautiful. I would ride along the river in the evenings, not caring if I missed the dinner bell. Some things were worth more. You can't imagine - " he said, and saw Suzui begin to tear up.

"I don't want to make this uncomfortable for you," he said.

"No!" said Ann in alarm as Suzui shook her head furiously. "No, no. We want you to talk."

"You never do," said Ryuji. "About your past, that is. And..." He lowered his gaze. "I want to hear more. If that's okay with you."

"Alright," Goro said, though he had to count his breaths for several moments before continuing. "One of the other boys wanted to ride it, so I shared. That was the rule. That lasted until - he wouldn't bring it back. Or he'd puncture the tires, and let it sit out in the rain. I couldn't work then, so I would recycle things for money. Save up, so I could fix it. Make it mine again.

"The other boy found out," he said. "He knew when I had saved up enough. Because I was proud - and I couldn't keep it to myself. And on the day I was going to take the bike to the nearest shop he took it from me. He made me watch while he wrecked it with his friends and dumped it into the river."

"Oh my God," said Ann.

"That's fucked up." Glares were sent their way, and Ryuji gave the finger back up.

"What did you do," said Suzui, and her tone was soft.

Goro smiled.

"I bought some pills with my money instead," he said, "and crushed it in their food the next time it was my turn to serve dinner.

"I was eleven," he added a moment later, when they were all speechless.

"Jesus Christ, dude," Ryuji hissed. "Did you kill them?"

"No," said Goro. "They just vomited profusely instead. And I was punished for it, even though no one could have known it was me."

"Senpai." Suzui's face was grave. "You say that like you shouldn't have gotten caught."

"I can't be sorry about it," said Goro. "I know it's perverse. I know it was wrong. I - I - " He sighed. "I had anger issues as a child."

"Yeah, no kidding." Ryuji regarded him warily. "Ann, say something!"

"Well, I was going to talk about how I wanted to follow in my parents' footsteps and be a fashion designer, but fuck!" said Ann. "Senpai, that's so dark."

The librarian was coming their way. Perfect.

"I know it's not a nice story,” said Goro. "And I wouldn't do it again."

"Cuz you'd actually get arrested."

"Excuse me," the librarian said. "We've been getting complaints from the other students - "

"We're good to go." Suzui stood up and started gathering her things. "Come on, everyone."

 They were all heading their way to the station when she spoke again. "Senpai."

"Yes?" Goro was conscious of them eyeing him differently now. Well, it would pass, and he...

Why had he shared that memory with them again?

There were nicer ones. Like the first time he presented a passing test to Ogawa-sensei and she given him a melon bar from the kitchen's freezer. Or when he bought a shirt for himself from the money from his first job washing dishes for a sushi place after school.

Or the look on Sensei's face when he'd been accepted into Shujin. Rushing over to Junes to buy him his fancy beige coat so he'd fit in with the stylish youngsters in Shibuya and hopefully make some friends.

Why did he recall the one memory that made him sound like a psychopath in training?

If Goro knew why he did half the things he did on a daily basis, he'd be a billionaire.

"If," said Suzui, "the Phantom Thieves had been around then, would you have asked them for help?"

Goro blinked, and a bit of the tension cracked away.

"Oh yeah," said Ryuji. "I guess that could have happened."

"... the Thieves only operate in Tokyo," Goro said. "And I don't think they could have bought me a new bike."

"They could have changed the boys' hearts," Ann said, watching him intently.

Goro stopped walking, and sighed. "Honestly, the child I was then wouldn't have been happy even if they got on their knees and begged my forgiveness. As if them feeling sorry after could have taken away what I first felt when they destroyed my bike. I was so angry - if I had been bigger, or a little stronger - " He bit his lip. "I suppose it's a good thing I've always been weak-bodied. Even now."

"Well, I was happy you were starting to keep up with me," said Ryuji. "Before."

"Please. I'm not going to start poisoning people for fun because of this," Goro said. "Also - Suzui?"

"Yes?"

"We never got to you."

"If it was me," said Suzui. "I would have poisoned Kamoshida too."

"Shiho!" said Ann. As if the death of Kamoshida had never been a viable option for her. Didn't she know that if she'd killed him in the Metaverse, Goro would have only ever looked the other way?

"I meant about your aspiration," Goro said. As Suzui well knew.

"I know." She shrugged. "I'm sorry, Ann. I know I should be the better person. But I can't forgive everything. If the Thieves hadn't been there, I don't know what I would have done."

"Aren't we all so lucky the Thieves are around, then," said Goro.

(He wasn't kidding.)

 Disturbing revelations about his former childhood ethics aside, Goro had to help out at Leblanc again.

He thought about Futaba. If he wanted to see her. It had been a couple of days, but the past while she had become a part of the Yongen neighbourhood, so much some people thought her Sojiro's daughter.

(And who was Goro? The guy who just toted Morgana about and took out the trash once in a while?)

He had texted her, but she failed to respond - and the girl being so tech-obsessed, he knew she must have received his messages and chose to ignore them.

Which meant exactly what it meant. It couldn't be helped.

The bell rung as he entered the cafe to find Boss nowhere to be seen... and Kurusu in one of the booths, facing a silvery-haired woman in business attire, all shapes and sizes of files sprawling on their table and a small clear space for two half-empty cups of coffee.

"Oh!" Kurusu's gaze darted to Goro right away. He looked genuinely surprised and pleased to see him, and Goro returned his smile. Kurusu wouldn't have gotten upset over the story, right? He understood all about taking things into his own hands.

"Sae-san. Meet Akechi," Kurusu said, and when the woman turned her gaze, poised and cold and clinical onto Goro, his smile dropped at once. He could tell, even before his gaze dropped to the prosecutor's badge on her blazer.

A cop. Or at least, someone affiliated with them.

"My pleasure to make your acquaintance," said Goro, and smiled without smiling.

"Likewise," said she, not introducing herself.

"Akechi," said Kurusu. "This is Nijima Sae. She's a prosecutor, pretty much the only decent one in that whole lot of scumbags - "

"I," said Nijima, "am Kurusu-san's official and only line of communication with the Tokyo Special Investigations Unit."

"They're the ones who follow up on my cases," said Kurusu, when Goro said nothing.

"Yes, Kurusu-san has provided us with a great deal of work over the past few months," said Nijima, smiling in that strange stifled way Goro was, as if she'd rather be anywhere but here.

"Nijima," Goro said. "I'm sorry, is that your name? Would you happen to have a sister?"

"Makoto?" Her eyes narrowed. "Wait. Are you that Akechi? Makoto's friend at school?"

How, Akechi Goro thought, could he have forgotten.

Nijima's elder sister was a prosecutor. Nijima's sister was this prosecutor, who just happened to work with Kurusu, who just happened to come by Leblanc all the time.

Did she know about the Thieves? About Kaneshiro? What had Nijima told her, if anything?

"You look like you swallowed a lemon," said Kurusu. "Believe it or not, Sae-san is one of the good ones. And if her sister likes you, you must be too."

"... perhaps," said Nijima. "Though we really should be getting back to our work now."

Goro found his tongue again. "Let me refill your coffee," he said, putting his bag away. At least the motions of working here were clockwork, even if his head was askew.

Kurusu watched him put on his apron and tie his hair back with great interest, but surprisingly he was all business after, talking with Nijima over something Goro had no business eavesdropping in on. There were no customers in the cafe though, and Boss only popped in to tell Goro he was busy on a call and wouldn't be back for a bit.

Was it Futaba-related? Either way, Goro just nodded tightly and listened in on Kurusu's conversation despite himself.

"... upped the security around Kaneshiro's holding cell as requested. But who do you think is going after him now?"

Goro stiffened. Kaneshiro? He'd turned himself in after his own self-imposed deadline, yes, but wasn't Nijima elder working the Madarame case? Or...

He stared at Kurusu while the boy went on, seemingly oblivious to the one looking his way.

"His former allies in the yakuza, for one thing - "

"But he didn't have any! Everyone he worked with was under him, or soon disappeared after he came into custody. His whole network collapsed at once. Even his captains don't seem to have known much about his background or where the money was going. Someone had to have transferred it. He couldn’t have done everything on his own."

"To who, though? You can't tell me a guy with that lifestyle wasn't in debt to someone more powerful if he was peddling drug money to threaten high schoolers with. His whole business was sketchy."

On and on they went about Kaneshiro, trying to puzzle out things it had never occurred to Goro to think about before.

Which, yes, acknowledge the truth: he only cared because Nijima younger had inadvertently roped him into an encounter with the man, one that left Goro physically battered and wanting to hurt. His hunger hadn't been pure, and the fact that it led Nijima to become a Thief had worked out by accident. She had taken up some of his slack in Mementos as well, keeping the Mona bus in track and giving out orders when Goro wanted to play passenger. The fact that Kaneshiro's bumbling threats had worked to wake the wildfire of Queen in Nijima was... delightful.

But it wasn't everything.

What did Kaneshiro Junya do?

Think, Goro.

He was a mob boss whose business primarily ran in extortion. Drug running. The sex trade, possibly. Unsavoury work that would ruin his victims' lives if the knowledge got out to their families, allowing Kaneshiro into trapping them into debt situations like the one he and Nijima had been threatened with.

Kaneshiro had operated in Shibuya. One of the busiest and most important regions in all of Japan. Why had he ever been allowed free reign? What had the police been doing? Kurusu and Nijima were discussing him now , but had he had a file with anyone before? He had been extorting everyone. Yes, many would have been paralyzed over guilt and fear if they went to the police, but surely not everyone was so tight-lipped.

If an honours student like Nijima Makoto knew about Kaneshiro - knew his name, and if Goro and his friends had been able to find out where he operated - and considering how easy it had been overall for him and Nijima to get to the man, it was ridiculous to assume the cops of all people couldn't have gotten in touch.

Unless they were compromised too.

Or they were in on it.

Or they didn't care.

Or they were busy blaming the victims and doing God knows what instead.

Even Kurusu and Nijima elder didn't know who and where Kaneshiro had been funneling money to. Now he could presume a lot, but they didn't appear incompetent in front of him - especially Kurusu, who Goro had to admit didn't look out of place matching wits with a prosecutor twice his age.

Goro resisted the urge to imagine himself in the boy's place, and started wiping the counters down.

They spoke on Kaneshiro for a while longer, but soon the papers started disappearing from the table, and Kurusu went to the bathroom, leaving only Goro and Nijima elder in the cafe.

"Here," she said when she got up, passing Goro three stacked hundred-yen coins. "For the coffee."

"Thank you," said Goro.

She turned - she was going to leave -

"Wait," he said. "I want to ask you something."

Hand on her hip as she turned back to face him, Nijima said, "I hope you’re hard of hearing, Akechi. It wasn't my idea to come here, but Kurusu insisted Leblanc was a quiet place for our meeting. Ideal."

"We're... grateful for your patronage."

A small smile. "Well then?"

"You're working the Madarame case, right?" he said, and saw her inhale sharply.

"How did you know?"

"Nijima-san told me at school," Goro said. "We... have a mutual friend who was affected by the artist. I'm wondering if you've made any progress? I know you can't tell me anything confidential but - "

"I can't," said Nijima. "But your concern is merited. Madarame hurt a lot of people.

"Unfortunately," she added. "I've been reassigned. I have nothing to do with what happens to him anymore."

"What?" said Goro.

"I'm working on the Kaneshiro case now. Less high-profile, perhaps, but no less frustrating."

"And Kurusu is helping you?"

"Yes," said Nijima, glancing at the clock. "But I'm afraid that's all I can discuss with an ordinary citizen. Good night, Akechi."

She left.

Kurusu came out with perfect timing a moment later. "What a coincidence, huh," he said. "I know Sae-san, you know her sis, it's like - " He stopped when he saw the look on Goro's face. "Hey. What's wrong."

"You said Nijima was one of the good ones," said Goro. "What did you mean by that."

"I meant what I meant." Kurusu came over to the counter, took a seat. "She's the only one in that whole lot of cops you can close your eyes around without worrying she'll shoot you in the back. Why? Did you get on her bad side?"

"She told me she's not on the Madarame case any more," said Goro. "What's going to happen with him now?"

"Wait," said Kurusu, nostrils flaring. "You care about that?"

"... Kurusu. I'm allowed to have friends. One being a victim of Madarame."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"He's not going to get away with it, will he?"

"What? No! What gives you that impression. Think about the public outroar if he did. How many people he scammed and abused - even the cops would be crazy not to go for as high a sentence as they can get."

"What would you do, though. If you were wrong."

"If?"

Goro stepped back, frazzled. "Kurusu, for someone who proclaims to hate authority and works to subvert them at all costs, I don't get it. How are you so sure that someone like Madarame's going to get his just desserts? Surely he must have had friends in power - people who supported him and let his allegations slide. He was stealing from his pupils and selling copycat paintings for years, where did the money go from that? It certainly wasn't in that miserable house of his - "

"Akechi," said Kurusu, and his voice had gone soft. "You want to tell me something?"

Goro had said too much. He could feel the flush creeping up the back of his neck.

"You know..." said Kurusu, letting his gaze wander. "There's a pretty good mockery of the Sayuri here in this very cafe. The only thing is, I've never seen one with a baby in the portrait. Where did you get it from?"

"A hundred yen shop," Goro said. "You can guess how much it cost."

He had gone cold, because somewhere along the way he forgot the plan - forgot to keep only a detached curiosity, and now Kurusu had his hand on his chin and was staring at him as if Goro had personally transported him to the Metaverse.

"You're worried, huh," the boy said finally. "About your friend."

Goro said nothing.

"... okay. I'll look it up for you."

"Look up what."

"What happens with Madarame's case from now on. Sae-san can get me the details, even if she wants to kick my ass for it. She's pissed too, of course. It was her baby." Kurusu smiled. "You got worked up for a minute there. Like, more than I've ever seen - "

"I know." Goro turned his back, pretended to busy himself with dusting the coffee jars.

"Your friend. They must be important to you - "

"Please, no more questions."

"I'll drop it," said Kurusu. "If you tell me what you thought about our conversation earlier."

Goro stilled. "About Kaneshiro."

"Yes."

He faced Kurusu again, if only on his side. "Tell me," said Goro. "Did you bring Nijima here because you wanted me to overhear?"

"... I'm a private eye who just happens to work with this one prosecutor once in a while," said Kurusu. "Plus, it would be shady if we met up at my place. I'm still a minor, after all."

"Not funny, Kurusu."

The boy slumped forward on his elbows, still looking up at Goro from under those impenetrable bangs. "I'll find another place if it bothers you so much, then."

"It's not that," said Goro. "I just - for some naive reason I assumed everything would turn out fine when those two turned themselves in." He wet his lips. "As if I - and everyone else - could just forget about them after, and move on with our lives. Why would I of all people think that?"

"Yeah, well," said Kurusu. "The Phantom Thieves can change people's hearts. They can't make trials happen overnight or ensure the bad guys always get the death penalty. You work with what you have."

Goro snorted. "You sound like a cynic."

"My whole schtick is cynicism, Akechi."

"Is it? I thought it was about giving hope to people who no longer have faith in the police to do the right thing."

"If that's what you took from it," said Kurusu. "Then that makes me happy. But nah." He shrugged. "I'm just here to help people while it's still possible. Society's trash. You'd have to change all of humanity's hearts to reform it into something as just as it needs to be - and at that point we wouldn't even be human anymore. Just happy little automatons, ticking along."

... huh.

"That's different," Goro said. "From what you said before." He added: "I thought you were a fan of the Thieves."

"I am." Kurusu blinked. "Doesn't mean I'd want them coming after me next."

"They only go after criminals," said Goro. "I can't possibly imagine why they would ever target you."

"Yeah." Kurusu straightened up in his seat. "Me either."

 "Ooh, we can do this!"

At least Morgana was in a good mood.

It was the final day of exams, and Goro felt confident. He'd spent more time tutoring the second years after school than attending to his own work, but he had managed to squeeze in one or two sessions with Nijima younger, and they gotten down to business.

There. He finished his essay and put his pencil down. Much better.

 Goro: Futaba, do you want to go out on the 18th?

Goro: There'll be fireworks.

Goro: It'll be with my friends from school.

Goro: I'll buy you whatever you want.

Goro: ?

Goro: Come back to Leblanc.

Goro: Boss misses you.

Goro: I do too.

Silence. Goro put his phone away. He couldn't wait forever.

 "Boss, you wouldn't happen to have a spare yukata, would you?"

It was evening at home, and Boss lounging on the sofa watching TV with Morgana curled up beside him, while Goro had just come out of the bath and was trying in futile effort to keep hair from slipping out of his towel wrap. Long hair had its costs, after all.

"Ah. You mean the festival tomorrow."

Goro nodded. "You should come too," he suggested. "Leblanc won't get any customers with the whole city out - why not take a day off for once?"

"Nah." Boss snorted. "That stuff's for youngsters. I don't have the energy anymore." He got up, and stretched. "But I might have some old clothes lying around. Let's go digging."

Goro followed him up the stairs, and after a moment Morgana padded up too. The second floor of the house was seldom Goro's territory - he had everything he needed on the first - and all it contained was Boss' bedroom and the spare room Futaba had used when she stayed over. It still contained her things - the futon she used, a small wardrobe full of her clothes, some volumes of manga and DVDs she had left behind. Goro came in every few days to dust the place, but otherwise stayed out. Knowing her, she had probably bugged it.

Boss' room was somehow even more spare. It was a traditional room with tatami flooring, and there was only a folded futon on the side and a few pieces of furniture pushed up against the wall.

And yes... Goro could smell the smoke.

Boss slid open the door to his closet. "What are you looking for?"

"Anything is fine," Goro said. "I'm not choosy."

Morgana slipped through his ankles at that moment, looking up. "You don't have to say it like that, Goro."

"What should I say, then?" Goro said, then flinched when Boss chuckled.

"You really like talking to him, huh?"

"Oops," said Morgana. "I'll shut up now."

"It's..." Goro put his smile back on. "Freeing. I don't have to think about much when it's just the two of us. I suppose it's like that with all pets?" he offered.

"Yeah," said Boss. "I was never one for that myself. Too busy when I was young. Now - "

"Mrr?" said Morgana in perfect innocence.

"He's not so bad," the older man said, fighting back a smile. "I guess."

They looked through the closet for some time, until Boss managed to retrieve from the crowded top shelf the box where he kept his more traditional garb. "Don't expect anything fancy," he said as he opened it, Goro kneeling next to him. "It's been years since I've worn any of this, so it might be outdated, but - "

"I'm grateful," Goro said.

"Good. You know how to put one on?"

"Ah, I'll need your help on that - "

Boss started pulling the pieces out one by one, dismissing them with a glance before Goro could even speak in the poor clothes' defense. "Too big. This one's got holes in it. Colour doesn't fit. Tacky pattern. What was I even thinking? Ugh - "

"Boss, it's fine," he said. "They're just clothes. They're not hurting anyone."

"I don't want you to wear any old dump of a thing," said Boss. "Here, how about this one? It's not as bad as the others." He held up a folded yukata. It was white, with thin golden stripes running up and down.

"Not bad," Goro said. "Very light."

"Try it on. I'll look around for the obi. What colour do you want?"

Honestly, this was... "Any colour is fine."

"Red. It'll match."

"If you say so."

"Kid." Boss glowered. "You're allowed to have nice things."

"I... have a lot of nice things already."

"Like what," muttered the man.

"Food," Goro said. "My bedroom. Morgana here, and my friends. What else is there?"

"I meant - things for yourself. Don't think I haven't noticed you still wearing the same clothes you came in here with. Don't you ever spend any of that money from your jobs?"

"I'm saving up for the future," Goro said. "Right, Morgana?"

"Yep," said the cat. "If by that you mean single handedly propping up Iwai's business."

Goro leaned over to scratch him on the head. "I do," he said, and laughed when Boss spluttered.

"Don't ignore me here!"

 The yukata looked nice. He looked nice.

The 18th came as expected, and Goro headed to the station feeling silly in his garb, but pleased nonetheless. He'd never worn yukata before, nor kimono, and felt vulnerable in the thin clothes.

But he was happy.

The others were suitably resplendent in their clothes when he met up with them in Shibuya Station. "You look great, senpai," Ann said.

"Thank you," Goro said. "It seems we're all dressed for the occasion."

"You calling me out?" grumbled Ryuji, the only one in casual clothes. "It's not like I have anything like this stuff at home, so - "

"Come," said Kitagawa. "Before we miss anything."

 It began to rain not even five minutes after the fireworks began.

"Well, this is bullshit."

Nijima held out her hand from the skinny awning they were all under, and sighed. "I don't think this is clearing up any time soon. Should we just go home?"

"Goro, shield me here!" yelped Morgana, sinking back into his bag. "My fur doesn't do so well when it's wet!"

"You're fine , Morgana," Goro said, reaching down to cover the cat's head with his hand.

"I'm not." Ann shielded her hair with her hands as the rain began to drip down. "Did anyone bring an umbrella?"

"There's a convenience store across the street," said Kitagawa. "Perhaps we can purchase one there."

"Yeah," said Ryuji. "Us and every other poor bastard out here tonight."

Through the gap in the awnings the rain showered onto Goro's shoulders and soaked through the front of his yukata.

"Let's go," he said.

 The store was a crowded mess with slick dirty floors and people grumbling about, and the inclusion of five people and a surly cat did not help matters. They found a corner to themselves and tried to warm up. Ann tried to fix her already poofing hair, Nijima holding her hairpins as she did so; Kitagawa was looking upon the bubbling pot of oden in the hot foods section, and Ryuji scrolled through his phone in boredom.

Goro went to look for umbrellas, and sneezed.

"We should have brought a coat," Morgana mumbled.

"We should have done a lot of things," he agreed. "Still, it was fun while it lasted."

"... this is the part where you tell me something sad like you've never seen fireworks before," the cat said. "Right?"

"Morgana," said Goro. "Please tell me how you're less sheltered of a being than I am, considering our backgrounds."

"Hey!" the cat protested. "I didn't spend all my time in Kamoshida's Palace. I was in other places too - sometimes in the real world. I had a life before I met you. Even if it wasn't so great most of the time."

"And now you get restaurant-quality tuna every other night," Goro said. "Things have really moved up for you."

"You're the same! Don't tell me you - "

"Akechi-kun? Is that you?"

Morgana meeped into silence, and Goro turned in the empty aisle to see Okumura from his class, wearing a yukata and looking at him curiously.

Oddly, she looked completely dry. Had the rain not touched her at all?

"Okumura-san," he said. "Did you come to see the fireworks too?"

"Yes," she said. "Though it hasn't worked out that way, has it?"

Goro smiled. "It's the same for my friends and I."

"Oh." She looked interested. "Who did you come with?"

"Nijima-san," he said. "And some second years. Are you with company as well?"

"Just my fiance," she said, then shook her head. "I should head back. I just saw you from the car, and wanted to say hello."

"That's quite nice of you," Goro said. "Morgana says hello too."

"Morgana...?" said Okumura. Goro tilted his bag forward a bit, and Morgana stuck his head out in alarm.

"Hey! What are you doing right now," the cat huffed.

To Okumura it was nothing more than a fussy set of meows, and her whole face lit up. "Oh my! You have a cat, Akechi-kun?"

"He has separation anxiety," Goro said, Morgana yowling in protest. "So I take him everywhere. Please keep it a secret." Wink.

"I will, I will!" Okumura clasped her hands in front of her. "You'll never hear a word out of me."

"Good," said Goro.

There was a pause.

"I should go back now."

"Yes. I need to find umbrellas as well."

"It's in the isle next over. I - I saw some, when I was trying to get through the crowds." She smiled. "Well, good night, Akechi-kun."

"Have a safe trip home," said Goro and watched her turn and leave... and a pair of tall men in suits he hadn't noticed leave alongside her.

Huh.

Okumura.

A car.

A fiance.

Bodyguards?

Interesting. He should ask her, the next time they were gardening together.

 There were texts from Suzui when he got home.

Suzui: Something's wrong with the Phansite.

Suzui: I think it's been hacked.

Suzui: Have you looked it up yet?

Suzui: I don't know if it's just a prank yet, but

Suzui: Whoever this hacker is wants to meet with the Phantom Thieves.

Suzui: In person or otherwise.

Suzui: What should I do, senpai?

Suzui: They're going to delete the whole website if I don't agree!

Goro: Don't do a thing.

Goro: I'll look into it tomorrow.

Goro: After school?

Suzui: Yes.

Suzui: Please... figure something out.

"I've been getting messages on the Phansite for a while," Suzui said the next day, as they sat in the courtyard together. "Maybe two or three weeks now? I filter all the requests, of course, and sometimes I just get strange questions, but..."

"But," said Goro

"It's been this person... calling themselves Alibaba. Sending me messages day and night, wanting to know how they could get in contact with the Thieves. Whenever I asked why, they'd stop responding. Just... get me in touch with the Phantom Thieves and things like that."

"And now this," Goro said.

Suzui's laptop was open beside her, and the Phansite’s forum should have greeted them. But there was only a hideous red background, and in thick black letters, in mimicry of the Thieves' calling cards:

PHANTOM THIEVES OF HEARTS

YOU WILL NOT IGNORE ME

YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO

HOW LONG WILL YOU MAKE ME WAIT?

Goro's lip curled. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Suzui hunched in over herself. "Senpai. I know you're not a fan of the site." Goro opened his mouth, but she went on. "No, I know. It's gaudy, isn't it? I wanted to help the Thieves in the beginning, but now it's starting to feel like... maybe I'm doing it for myself."

"Suzui," he said, wishing Ann were here. "We're all selfish at heart. It's alright."

"Yeah." She nodded. "And in the end, a website's just that. I can remake it - but I've spent so much time on it over the past few months."

"And our requests," said Goro. "You remember the emails you gave me, right?"

"I do."

"They belong to you too," he said, and when her eyes widened, he added: "Suzui... without the requests you've sent our way, what do you think would have happened to the people we helped?"

She shut the laptop. "They'd still be in the same place as before."

"Yes. So don't worry," he said. "The site is important to you. I understand.

"So take a break," he said. "And let me handle this one. Tell Alibaba to get in contact with me."

 Goro: Greetings.

Goro: Is this Alibaba?

Goro: Admin gave me your number.

Alibaba: Who am I talking to?

Goro: A Phantom Thief, of course.

Alibaba: This is a burner phone.

Goro: You're a hacker.

Goro: You didn't think I'd make it easy for you, did you?

Alibaba: You can't be trusted.

Alibaba: How do I know you're telling the truth?

Goro: You don't.

Goro: You're the one who came calling.

Goro: The burden of proof is on you.

Alibaba: I can delete your website.

Goro: Go ahead.

Goro: You think I care?

Alibaba: Wow.

Alibaba: That would break Admin's heart if she knew.

Alibaba: I know her identity by the way.

Goro: ?

Alibaba: I can see everything on her computer. Even now.

Goro: Are you planning on threatening me?

Alibaba: If that's what it takes.

Goro: What do you want.

Alibaba: I want you to change someone's heart.

Goro: ?

Alibaba: Promise me first.

Goro: Don't be ridiculous.

Goro: Or what?

Goro: Your bark has no bite.

Alibaba: Shut up!

Alibaba: I'm thinking.

Goro: Don't take too long.

Alibaba: Fine.

Alibaba: I don't want to threaten random high schoolers either.

Alibaba: But I am desperate.

Goro: Change the site back and I'll listen.

Alibaba: You will?

Alibaba: Done.

Goro: Thank you.

Goro: Now tell me what you want.

Alibaba: ...

Alibaba: There's someone whose heart absolutely has to be changed for the better.

Alibaba: Or things could get a whole lot worse for society in the coming months.

Goro: Who?

Alibaba: I need to know absolutely if you'll do this before I tell you.

Alibaba: My life could be in danger if you don't.

Goro: If your request is just we'll listen.

Alibaba: Just...?

Alibaba: I just want it done.

Goro: We're not thugs.

Goro: Do you think you're doing the right thing right now?

Alibaba: Yes.

Goro: Then tell me.

Alibaba: ...

Alibaba: It's a government scientist.

Alibaba: Her research is based on a theory called the cognitive world.

Alibaba: A world that exists on another reality above ours.

Alibaba: Where people's thoughts and desires manifest into monsters and otherworldly beings.

Alibaba: The human psyche made flesh, basically.

Alibaba: She's been trying for years to figure out if this world is real, and she's getting closer and closer to the truth.

Alibaba: But it's distorted her being along the way.

Alibaba: She's become cruel and neglectful to the people around her.

Alibaba: She's obsessed with this politician she hates called Shido.

Alibaba: She wants to destroy him for interfering with her work.

Alibaba: If she keeps going on this treacherous path she'll be ruined herself.

Alibaba: And then

Alibaba: The people who care about her will

Alibaba: Never mind.

Alibaba: You have to stop her.

Alibaba: Change her heart.

Alibaba: Please.

Alibaba: Why aren't you saying anything?

Goro: This cognitive world.

Goro: Do you think it's real?

Alibaba: I don't know.

Alibaba: I've never seen any proof.

Goro: You have access to this scientist's files.

Alibaba: All of it.

Alibaba: And at great personal risk.

Goro: I want to see them.

Alibaba: Not yet.

Alibaba: Fulfill my promise first.

Goro: Promise...?

Goro: You're outrageous.

Goro: But this is worth looking into.

Goro: Thank you for bringing it to my notice.

Alibaba: ?

Alibaba: You don't even want to know her name?

Goro: I know already.

Goro: It's Isshiki Wakaba, isn't it?

Alibaba: ...

Alibaba: How did you know.

Alibaba: Who are you.

Goro: Someone to keep you on your toes.

Goro: Goodbye, Alibaba.

 Goro: We have a new target.

Chapter Text

10. Stop Medjed's plan

The team had their meeting in the student council room the day after.

Isshiki-san was undoubtedly researching the Metaverse, and from the redacted files Alibaba sent to Goro grudgingly as a small slip of proof, she was getting to the tail end of things in getting her work published in several important scientific journals. Honestly, Goro had no idea how someone could even verify the Metaverse's existence without something like the Nav, and if Isshiki-san had access to that there were bigger things to fry than her Palace.

She had one, of course, which meant that no matter the value of her work, something had warped her mentality to grotesque proportion. Goro was no fool. He wouldn't have accepted Alibaba's offer if the woman had had a mere Shadow.

And damn it, he wanted to see more of this research - unredacted - for himself. Igor and the twins were useless in explaining anything but semi-cryptic nonsense, and Morgana only knew so much. What was the Metaverse? Why did it exist in the first place, and how had it emerged from the consciousness of humanity?

Why did people have Shadows, and the Phantom Thieves alone have Personas? Would they have had Shadows somewhere lurking too had Goro not brought them into the Metaverse before he could encounter them in Mementos? Ann had had one - what about the rest of them?

Had he had a Shadow before Robin Hood rose from the dark recesses of his mind and glimmered and made him Crow?

What was Robin Hood? Surely not a manifestation of the English myth, not with his futuristic armour and ten-foot-tall stature. The mythical Goemon had been a simple human too, whereas Fox's was a flamboyant, otherworldly bandit with chalk-white skin and that bulbous purple extrusion from his head. Johanna was a talking motorcycle.

Was the capacity for bearing a Persona in everyone's hearts, or just Goro's friends?

Ryuji and Ann's Personas had clawed themselves out of rage against Kamoshida. Kitagawa's had come out when he could no longer ignore the deceit of Madarame's ways. Nijima too, when her desire to defeat Kaneshiro overwhelmed her need to be the perfect student everyone else saw her as. Apart from Goro, who had been only tangentially relevant to Kamoshida, everyone had had to face head-on the greatest demon looming over their personal lives. They'd had to reach their emotional breaking point. They had to have refused to have backed down. They had to have made a choice.

Did Isshiki-san know all this? Did she know about the Velvet Room?

Goro didn't want to go to her Palace. He wanted to go to her workplace, and ask her.

Or at home, if she was there. But Futaba -

Ah, Futaba.

What should Goro do with her?

"So," said Nijima, looking up from the files she had been reading. "You want to go to this Isshiki-san's Palace and change her heart?"

Goro crossed his arms, leaning against the wall of the student council room. The entire team was here save for Kitagawa, still at Kosei. "Not yet. For now I'd just like to look around and verify. Triggering a Palace ruler's suspicion is something we can't take back, so if we can observe without being detected, that would be ideal."

"Verify what, though?" said Ryuji, slouched over a table. "What do you think we're going to find in this Palace that's so special from all the others?"

Goro shrugged. "All the Palace rulers expressed their true thoughts to us. They had no desire - or perhaps even the capacity - to lie. I'm sure we'll find out what's been distorting Isshiki-san's heart if we speak to her Shadow."

"Without being caught," said Ann. "Are you sure we're going to be able to talk to her without her immediately trying to cut our heads off?"

"I'm working another angle as well," Goro said, and added: "Isshiki-san is a friend of Sakura-san's."

"Boss? No way." Ryuji blanched. "So you've met her?"

"I've had dinner with her," said Goro, and told them about the phone call he had overheard that night.

Even the part about Shido. He would prefer never to think about his biological father at all, but if he was threatening Isshiki-san's work over the cognitive world, then -

He has a Palace, remember? some part of Goro's mind that was neither him nor Robin Hood whispered. Not that you've been very diligent at finding it.

He curled his fingers over his forearms. He knew that. God damn it, he knew.

"So this politician Shido is interfering with Isshiki-san and trying to get her to hold back releasing her research." Morgana bent low to the papers on the table, tail flicking idly by. "What do you think his game is?"

"He probably doesn't want the public finding out about the Metaverse," Ann said. "I mean, don't most politicians lie to begin with? They always say they want to keep the peace and not distract people, but..."

"It must be the coming election," Nijima said, and when three pairs of eyes in the room (not Goro's) switched over to her with confusion, she sighed. "The... election this winter? Voting for a new Prime Minister and government?"

"None of us can vote yet, dude," said Ryuji.

"I didn't mean that." Her hand closed into a fist in her lap. "Shido-san is in the running, and so far he has a modest majority over the other candidates. It's possible that lead wouldn't last if something like the truth of the Metaverse came out."

"Why not?" said Ann. "How would that affect his chances?"

"Because he's a control freak," Goro said. "He needs to have mastery of every situation and if there's a single abnormality outside of his plan he'll strike it down without hesitation. If the public's talking about the Metaverse, they're not listening to his campaign speeches or the spiel he spews out in the Diet every day. Moreover, if he knows about Isshiki's research in detail, then he probably wants to use the Metaverse for his own corrupt purpose and - "

Everyone was staring at him. Goro stopped.

"You... sound like you know him personally," said Nijima.

"Not in the least." Goro looked elsewhere. "I just know his type."

"Sounds like we should be doing his Palace instead," said Ryuji, and Morgana's whole body swivelled to Goro, as if to say: Can I? Can I?

To which, Goro would reply: Don't you dare.

"Alibaba's request is to change Isshiki Wakaba's heart," he said instead. "We'll find out the truth of the matter if we venture into her Palace... and how much Shido is involved."

"Yeah," said Ann. "That seems fair."

"So it's a deal, then?" said Nijima. "We're taking this target on?"

There were no objections.

"We still need to find out more about Isshiki-san's distortions before we head in," said Goro. "I'll try to get in contact with her."

"We need the keywords as well," said Morgana.

He smiled. "Right. That might take longer. I'll contact you all when I feel we have enough to go on."

"Great!" Ann got up and stretched, swinging her arms about. "Let's get out of here then."

 Goro: Alibaba.

Goro: I'd like you tell me what you know about Isshiki Wakaba.

Goro: We need further intel before we proceed.

Alibaba: ? You're not going to change her heart now?

Goro: It's never that easy.

Goro: The Thieves can't work overnight.

Goro: Approaching a target we know nothing about is a recipe for disaster.

Alibaba: I know nothing more than you do.

Goro: Please don't lie.

Goro: I already know you're someone close to her.

Alibaba: Is that a threat?

Goro: No.

Goro: A plea for mutual understanding.

Goro: You want Isshiki's heart changed.

Goro: I want my team to come out of this mission alive.

Alibaba: Alive?

Alibaba: What do you mean.

Alibaba: What kind of danger do the Thieves put themselves in?

Goro: That's a trade secret.

Alibaba: I want to know.

Goro: That's not within the perimeter of our agreement, is it?

Goro: We change her heart, you pass along her files to us.

Goro: Naturally, we won't leak them.

Alibaba: It's all going to be published soon anyway.

Alibaba: I think.

Goro: You're not sure?

Goro: You're aware that if you leave anything out, we won't be able to succeed.

Alibaba: I know.

Alibaba: Remember what I told you about that politician Shido.

Goro: Yes.

Goro: How is he involved with Isshiki?

Alibaba: It's complicated.

Alibaba: I don't know everything but

Alibaba: They used to work together.

Goro: ?

Alibaba: When Shido was first elected to the Diet

Alibaba: He helped Isshiki get a research position with the government and funded her work.

Goro: Unbelievable.

Goro: What did he get out of it?

Alibaba: He had an interest in the cognitive world too.

Alibaba: Back then it might have been genuine.

Alibaba: He had a different reputation.

Goro: How?

Alibaba: You should look these things up yourself.

Alibaba: But whatever.

Alibaba: Shido was seen as more open-minded and flexible than the previous government.

Alibaba: Wanting to open Japan's borders to intellectual thought and scientific knowledge from around the world.

Alibaba: A lot of people had hope in him. Thought he was the future.

Alibaba: He got a lot of experimental research funded as a result.

Alibaba: A lot of it tanked, of course. There was no supervision to make sure any of it was legitimate whatsoever.

Alibaba: There was a huge backlash from the public and other members of the Diet about wasteful government spending.

Alibaba: Shido moved away from Isshiki and put her work in the dungeon.

Alibaba: He didn't want to be associated with her.

Goro: Why not fire her?

Alibaba: I think he knew it was going to be the real deal eventually.

Goro: He's threatening her now though.

Goro: You'd think he'd be validated his original gambit paid off.

Alibaba: You mean bragging rights?

Alibaba: Maybe the Shido then.

Alibaba: The person he is now wants something else.

Goro: To use the cognitive world for his own gain.

Alibaba: You've got it.

Alibaba: And he won't be able to do that successfully if the public knows about it.

Goro: There would be other people in the way. Scientists, politicians, journalists...

Alibaba: Exactly.

Alibaba: Thugs like him just want to hoard power so they can better crush people under their heel.

Alibaba: It doesn't matter if their lives are poorer as a result.

Alibaba: They'll take everything so everyone else is reduced to nothing.

Goro: You hate him.

Alibaba: I do.

Alibaba: He's turned Isshiki into a completely different person due to his selfishness.

Alibaba: She wasn't like this before.

Goro: I have to ask.

Goro: Why don't you want me to change Shido's heart instead?

Alibaba: ...

Alibaba: I don't know.

Alibaba: I care about Isshiki's wellbeing.

Alibaba: I don't care if Shido rots in hell.

Goro: Or if he gets elected?

Alibaba: ?

Goro: That's the alternative here.

Goro: It's not about changing someone's heart so they can magically become a better person overnight.

Goro: It's about preventing them from causing any further harm to other people.

Goro: And making sure they stay in prison.

Alibaba: I hadn't thought about that.

Alibaba: Maybe the Thieves are darker than I thought.

Goro: Please.

Goro: That's my personal opinion.

Goro: Don't rope the others into this.

Alibaba: You're a funny guy.

Alibaba: I'd like to see how you work sometime.

Goro: We can make that happen.

Alibaba: Are you serious?

Goro: Take the plunge, Alibaba.

Alibaba: Don't be ridiculous.

Alibaba: I'm a hacker.

Alibaba: Not... whatever you do.

Goro: The Thieves come from all walks of life.

Goro: You'd be surprised if you saw us in person.

Goro: Nevertheless.

Goro: Isshiki.

Goro: Tell me everything about her.

Goro: The sooner we understood completely what makes her tick the better.

Goro: We may need access to more files as well.

Alibaba: Fine.

Alibaba: I'm putting my faith in you here.

Alibaba: But I won't let myself be played.

Alibaba: Save Isshiki or I'll get someone else to do it.

Alibaba: The Phantom Thieves aren't the only game in town.

Goro: Yet you came to us first.

Goro: I wonder why that is?

"Prison," he offered into the Nav the day after.

No candidates found.

"Ah," intoned Kitagawa. "Going dark right away, are we?"

Goro smiled. The Thieves had come to Leblanc after school and were currently in its attic, the Shibuya passageway having gotten too small for comfort for five plus one. Plus, despite the fact they'd never gotten caught didn't mean talking about Thief business in the open was a wise idea. In retrospect, they'd all been incredibly lucky no one had ever eavesdropped on them, considering that was half of how Goro gathered his information nowadays.

"Considering what Alibaba told me," he said. "I think Isshiki-san knows she's in an untenable position right now. I can't imagine her workplace is a source of joy for her."

"Who the hell even is this Alibaba?" said Ryuji. "You got any clues about their identity?"

"All in good time," Goro said. Next to him, Morgana glowered. "For now, let's just work on the keywords."

"How about... jail?" offered Ann.

No candidates found.

"Dude, that's the same thing - "

"I know, Ryuji! I'm just blanking out right now."

"Otherworld," said Nijima. "Heaven?"

Goro looked at her, and she crossed her arms sheepishly. "It's possible she might view the cognitive world in a positive way."

No candidates found.

"Good idea," said Kitagawa. "Then - Olympus. Asgard. Yggdrasil. Fuji-san - "

No candidates found.

"Perhaps something else," Goro said as the boy deflated. "Again, I think something more on the side of anguish will work. After all, Isshiki-san is - " He stopped, and thought about it. "How do we think she views herself, in the context of her life and career?"

"Well..." Ann began. "Alibaba said she's obsessed with her research, right? To the point where she never comes home and it's all she can think about."

"I can imagine the stress she is under," said Kitagawa. "To devote one's life to a single project, dismissed as superstitious nonsense by the public, underfunded and opposed by her once-greatest supporter. It is... a hard place to be."

Yes, Kitagawa would be able to identify with that, Goro thought. Not that he meant it unkindly.

"A queen in exile," Nijima said suddenly.

No candidates found.

But.

"She's not in exile," Goro said. "She still has her work. Her personal life, ostensibly. It's more like - "

"Maybe she feels confined," said Ann. "As if there's nowhere for her in the world but her workplace."

"Like she's trapped," said Morgana. He'd been quiet the whole time, but now his gaze was bright. He was thinking. "There's no way out from her situation, so she just keeps going forward and hoping it'll work out."

"Yes," said Goro. "Now how would we make that work - "

"A tomb," Kitagawa said. "She feels as if she's being entombed. Like a pharaoh's crypt."

Candidate found.

Ryuji whistled, and Ann clapped her hands. "Nice work," said Nijima.

Kitagawa was looking at Goro. He cleared his throat. "Very good."

"Thank you," said Kitagawa, pinking.

"So... should we head over now?" said Ryuji. "We still got loads of time."

"Let's," said Nijima. "Our purpose is only to observe though."

"Right." Goro got up. "No triggering any enemies."

"Isshiki Wakaba, here we come!"

Isshiki's workplace was in a nondescript office building located on a dingy side street in Chiyoda-ku. Unlike many of the more impressive government buildings in the ward, this place looked like it had had its last heyday circa the last century. Concrete, the paint a dull brown that had stripped over the years, outdated foggy windows... even the landscaping looked pathetic.

"Wow," said Ann, looking up with her hands in her hoodie pockets. "A government researcher really works here? It looks terrible."

"Hopefully we won't need to go inside," said Goro, taking out his phone. "Are we ready?"

"Ready," said Nijima, and tensed.

And once more, the Metaverse bled into the world around them.

 The first thing Goro noticed was that he was incredibly warm.

The second was that he was lying down, and his uniform was full of sand.

"Ugh!" he heard Ann say, as he staggered to his feet. "What the hell." She was shaking sand out of her sweater.

"We're in a desert," said Nijima, smoothing over her skirt. "But where's the Palace?"

Goro looked around. Only glittering dunes as far as the eye could see.

"Yo," said Ryuji. "Over there! Look." He pointed to the far off distance, where a faint trace of blockish shapes was visible.

"It looks quite a ways off," said Kitagawa. "How do you suppose we...?"

"Mona," said Nijima. "Would you do us the honours?"

"If you insist, Queen," said Morgana, and transformed.

They all clambered inside, and Nijima drove with Ann in the front, leaving Goro sandwiched in between Ryuji and Kitagawa. Not a bad place to be, honestly, though the fact that he could still feel the grit of sand in his hair was soon going to annoy him.

Never mind. It was annoying now.

"Hey!" said Ryuji, when Goro bent forward and scrubbed vigorous fingers through his hair. "You mind not getting that on me while you're doing that?"

"Sorry," Goro said.

(He was not sorry.)

"There's some on your neck," said Kitagawa, and without pause took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the back of Goro's neck with it, cloth and fingers all creeping below his sweating collar.

Goro stared into the front mirror and saw Ann looking at him with a curious look on her face.

Oh no, he thought. But it was too late.

"So," she said, leaning back in her seat. "Don't you all think senpai and Yusuke get along really well?"

"Do they?" Ryuji yawned. "I thought Goroboy got along with everyone."

"Don't call me that," said Goro.

"Well, I'm not gonna call you Crow! We're not even in our costumes right now."

"I meant - call me senpai. Like Ann. Don't be so uncouth."

"Uncouth?" said Ann.

"Vulgar," said Nijima, a smile threatening to break her face. "Rude. Why don't you call him senpai, Ryuji?"

"I don't know, 'cause it feels stiff? And no offense, but this guy's serious as it is - "

"I take full offense," said Goro.

"See? See?" Ryuji put a hand on his chest and closed his eyes. "Oh, Sakamoto! Why haven't you learned ten thousand new kanji since the last time we studied together? I picked up twenty thousand this morning alone!"

"Ryuji, stop," Ann said, but she was snickering.

"Stop? Don't you mean, cease this nonsense right now, Sakamoto! Why, in my day - "

"The next time you pass out in battle," Goro said. "I'm letting you die."

"Die? Don't you mean leave the mortal coil?"

"Ryuji."

"Goro."

"We're done here." Goro turned away from him to Kitagawa's side.

"Aw, come on! Take a joke, man."

"In our leader's defense," said Kitagawa. "You've been the only one laughing."

"Not true," said Ryuji. "Ann was laughing."

"I was not," she said. "I was... it's not that funny... I mean, it is, but - "

"You're off the team too, Panther."

Her grin vanished in a second. "Hey! Not fair."

"Don't be so stiff, Akechi-kun," said Nijima. "It's not so bad, letting juniors call you by name."

"Yeah! It's not like the Thieves are hierarchical or anything."

Goro wrinkled his nose. "Does this really matter?"

"It's... been good for me so far," said Nijima. "The only person who used to call me Makoto is my big sister, and she's so busy nowadays she almost never comes home."

"I get to chat with my parents like every other week," said Ann. "And trust me, when they call me Ann, I just feel like we're all together. Even if they're half across the world and I'm running around Palaces. It feels really nice."

"Well, don't worry about me," said Ryuji. "My mom's nagging me day and night. Ryuji this, Ryuji that - "

"Ryuji, your mom's awesome! Talk smack about her and you're going to catch hands."

"Hey, I love her, alright? I'm just sayin'.”

"Yusuke," said Nijima. "What about you?"

"It was the same for me," said he, his arm pressed against Goro's. "Before I met you, only Sensei used my name. I am Kitagawa to everyone else, even my peers at school."

But it was Goro he had given a quick glance at, then looked out the window.

Goro swallowed. "Do you want me to call you Yusuke, then?"

Kitagawa's face was like a portrait; perfectly still.

"Do it," said Ann. "You can't be so formal with everyone all the time!"

"Yes," said Kitagawa, and his pale face flushed. "I'd like that very much indeed."

"I will, then," Goro found himself saying, and saw Ann giving him a thumbs up and a wink in the mirror. He tried it out: "Yusuke." It was awkward on his tongue, but the look of unabashed joy on Kita - Yusuke's face was enough.

"Cheers," said Ryuji. "Now, whenever he uses your last name you know he's pissed."

"Sakamoto."

"Hah! Just like that."

"What about me, Akechi-kun?" said Nijima. "I haven't been a part of this team as the rest of you, but - "

"No, it's fine," said Goro. "We're the only third-years here, after all." Then, because everyone was still looking at him in some capacity or another: "Makoto."

Nijima - Makoto broke into a grin. "Thank you, Goro."

"Why. Are. You. Red. Right. Now?!" Ryuji pounded Goro's shoulder. "Does that mean - "

"No," said Goro. "It doesn't."

"Ryuji, let him be in his feelings! It was a big deal for us too."

"Yeah, you're right. What if it turns out Morgana has another name too?"

"Sakamoto," said Goro, who was very red because of the heat and heat alone. "One more word and I am going to push you out of the Mona bus myself."

"Fine, fine!" Ryuji put a hand over his mouth in a show of silence. "Can't let a guy have fun, can you?"

"Never."

Then.

"So, Goroboy - "

One mildly defenestrated Skull later, they'd made it to the Palace, an enormous golden pyramid with a set of stairs leading up to the entrance. It seemed the Metaverse was taking the keyword tomb to its most iconic connotation.

"Here we go..." said Morgana. "Remember, we're here for reconnaissance only! If we find Shadows, just hide for now."

"Yes," said Goro, and pushed the door open.

No Shadows lurked as they approached the interior. "More stairs," said Makoto. "Odd. It really doesn't seem as if the Palace ruler is on guard."

"She just hasn't been alerted to us," said Ann. "Right?"

Then they saw someone.

"Hide!" said Morgana, and they all snapped to behind a corner. "Crow, what does it look like?"

Goro frowned as he peeked. "It has to be a Shadow," he said. "Looks like a young girl in a white dress - with orange hair."

Oh.

Oh no.

Why was she here?

His mouth felt numb.

Despite the risk, he started walking towards her.

"What the hell!" Ryuji hissed. "Mona, get him!"

"Wait," said Morgana. "No, I think I know her too. Guys, I think it's alright."

Goro approached the figure, and she turned her face to him.

She looked almost as she did in reality. Long, dyed orange hair, black-rimmed glasses, a white cotton dress, with heavy gold jewellery in the style of ancient Egypt on her neck and arms, a crown on her head. She looked like she belonged here.

Even with her Shadow-yellow eyes, she looked just like the girl Goro knew.

As the Thieves came up behind him and Morgana gave a mournful meow of recognition, Goro knew it was pointless to hide her identity from them - Alibaba's identity - any longer.

"Hello, Futaba," he said. "What are you doing here?"

And to his own surprise, she smiled, and took his hands.

"You're here," she said, this being that was Futaba and yet wasn't. "You're really here, Akechi. You must have heard my prayers. I'm so happy."

"What prayers?" said Goro.

She blinked. "You have come to change my mother's heart, have you not?"

"Yes, we did."

"I am honoured." She sank into a deep curtsey. "I have been attempting it alone for years without avail. With you I may finally suceed."

"Uh, leader?"

"Hold on," Goro said, and turned.

The Thieves were all staring, save for Morgana, who had gone up to Futaba, and she knelt to pet him on the head.

"And you must be Morgana," she said. "It is my greatest pleasure."

"Uh, yeah." Morgana looked uncomfortable. "Hi, Futaba."

"Goro," said Makoto, and he was forced to look at the others again.

She crossed her arms. "I think you owe us an explanation."

 "So," said Makoto when it was over. "This Futaba is Isshiki Wakaba's daughter and the hacker known as Alibaba, the one who contacted us to target Isshiki-san's heart in the first place. And you've known her all along."

"Yes," said Goro.

"... I don't know why you would keep something like this from us," she said.

She sounded disappointed.

Futaba was playing with Morgana still. "I had no idea we'd find her here," said Goro. "A cognition of Futaba in her mother's Palace - "

"It makes sense," said Yusuke. "Why wouldn't Isshiki-san have strong feelings towards her daughter?"

"This is a Palace," Goro said. "Surely Futaba wouldn't be here if her mother's opinion of her wasn't distorted."

"We know," said Ann. Speaking from experience. "Senpai, are you okay? You look nervous."

"No." Goro rubbed his face to stay calm. "No, we can do this. This was the whole point of the mission. I just - "

"You care about her," said Ryuji. When Goro said nothing: "Look, you don't have to be stone cold about this. You said yourself she was living with you and Boss for like two weeks all of a sudden. That doesn't happen unless something's wrong at home." He hesitated. "And why she tried to get in touch with you first."

"I don't think the real Futaba knows I'm the person she's been talking to all along," Goro said. She'd be a lot openly ruder, for one thing. "But, yes. Let's talk to her again."

Futaba got up with Morgana trapped in her arms when they rejoined her. Help, he was mouthing.

"Hello," she said. "Are you all Akechi's friends?"

"Yeah," said Ryuji, looking perturbed to be chatting with a cognition that was actively cooperative. "And we're all going to change your mom's heart together, alright?"

"Yes." She beamed. "Her Treasure is up the stairs."

"All the way up there?" said Ann. "That's a long way to go."

"The bigger question is why there's nothing in the way," said Makoto. "Futaba, are you sure this'll work out? What if your mother finds out and tries to stop us?"

"... do not worry about that." The girl's smile dimmed. "My mother is never home. You could take her Treasure now and she never discover it."

"Let's try, at least," said Goro. "Oh, and could you let go of Morgana? He's trying to breathe."

"Oh! I beg your pardon."

"Thanks for nothing, guys!" Morgana said as he was finally released from Futaba's grip. "Now let's go."

 They walked up those narrow thousand stairs, passing safe rooms all the while. The atmosphere was tense. They were still in their school uniforms, and nothing was out of place. Only Futaba trailed up the stairs - no Shadows leaping at them, hiding in dark spaces or patrolling - and led them to a door at the top. Unlike the Egyptian design of the rest of the Palace, it looked like a door you'd find in any office building, with a white frame and metal door handle, a nameplate on the front:

DR ISSHIKI WAKABA

COGNITIVE RESEARCH

"There," she said. "It is right behind this door."

"There's no way it's this easy," Ryuji muttered. "Something's gonna happen."

"Ryuji, do not jinx this for us," Ann said, hands tense at her sides.

"Stay on guard," said Makoto. "We don't know what to expect here."

"I'll be our lookout," said Morgana. "Crow?"

"Copy that," said Goro, and turned the handle.

A siren went off.

"Fuck, I knew something was going to happen!" snarled Ryuji. "Where is it?"

"Prepare to fight," said Makoto. "Damn it, why aren't we transforming?" She looked at her bare hands in frustration.

"No," said Futaba, crumpling. "I don't understand." She began to pound on the door. “Why won't you let me in?”

"Futaba, stop,” said Goro. "It's not your fault." He looked around. There was still no one in pursuit. "We need to find a safe room, now - "

FUTABA. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE NOW?

The voice trembled throughout the entire vast room and made the walls shake. Goro stumbled and caught himself before he fell.

"Hide," said Futaba. "You all must hide, now!" She pushed Goro and the others away, towards a pillar to cower behind. "There, there! Don't let yourself be seen - "

FUTABA. I TOLD YOU NOT TO ENTER MY SANCTUM.

Where was the voice coming from? It sounded like a god from overhead, a distorted phone call, someone using a microphone, it came from within his heart. It was everywhere, and it made Goro's ears ache.

There was no one in sight. But Futaba sank to her knees and pressed her head to the ground, as if in prayer.

"I beg your pardon, great Pharaoh," she whispered. "I must have set off a trap by accident - "

ALL YOU DO IS LIE, FUTABA. YOU DISAPPOINT ME.

"Great Pharaoh, I do not lie!" Futaba's voice quivered. "I have not done anything you have told me not to do."

ENOUGH, FUTABA.

HAVE I NOT TOLD YOU WHAT IS MOST PRECIOUS TO ME IN THIS WORLD?

YOU.

COUNTLESS TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU THERE IS NOTHING MORE IMPORTANT TO ME.

I HAVE GIVEN YOU EVERYTHING.

FREEDOM.

A LIFE WITHOUT JUDGMENT.

THE WHOLE WORLD IS AT YOUR FINGERTIPS.

SO WHY DO YOU PERSIST?

WHY DO YOU CONTINUE TO BOTHER ME WHEN I HAVE TOLD YOU I WISH TO BE LEFT ALONE?

WHY DO YOU ASSUME YOU KNOW BETTER FOR ME THAN I DO?

"Because I am right, Pharaoh." Futaba lifted her head back up, tears down her face. "No - Mother. Please, let me see you! I have not seen your illuminated face in years - "

YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO MAKE AN AUDIENCE WITH ME.

"Mother..."

YOU HAVE LIED TO ME ONCE MORE, FUTABA.

DO NOT THINK I HAVE NOT NOTICED.

WHAT MANNER OF THIEVES HAVE YOU INVITED INTO MY HOME?

"Fuck," said Ryuji.

"There is no one," said Futaba, staring at them with wet eyes. "No one but I. Mother - "

YOU LIE.

And something within Goro's primal senses told him it was time to leave.

"We have to go," he said. "Mona - "

"Bus! Bus! I get it!" Morgana popped back into his four-wheeled form, and the Thieves scrambled back in.

"Don't go," said Futaba. "Please don't leave me alone again!"

AH, THERE YOU ARE.

The whole pyramid began to vibrate, and a wave of terror swept through the Thieves. The damn place was going to collapse in on them.

"Mona, go!" shouted Makoto, and the bus screeched down the endless stairs of the pyramid back to the entrance.

"No! Please don't go!" Futaba was wailing. "Don't leave me here by myself! I can't do it alone anymore!"

And behind them, the walls of the pyramids came down one by one.

The Nav spat them back out onto the street, and Goro lay on his back on asphalt and found his face wet with tears.

"We're in for it now," Ryuji grumbled beside him. "Yo, leader - "

His jaw dropped. Goro turned away and rubbed at his face. "Please don't."

"Senpai, are you crying?"

"No." He screwed his eyes shut, began to stumble away. "I'm not. Leave me be."

Yusuke grabbed his shoulder before Goro walked into a telephone pole. "It's alright," the boy said. He held up his handkerchief again, and Goro buried his face in it.

"It's okay to be upset," Makoto said. "You said it yourself. She's a friend to you."

"It's not that." Goro didn't look at them until his face was dry again. "I didn't - I should have known. Before - when she left - she asked me how the Thieves changed people's hearts. She said she would do anything to find out. Why didn't I take it seriously? Even when I knew she was Alibaba, I assumed - " He kicked the ground. "I let myself pretend it was an ordinary mission. That I could do it without getting emotional - "

"Goro," said Morgana, circling his ankle. "Goro. We're going to save Futaba too. When we're done, she won't be alone again."

"Right," said Makoto. "This is for her, more than anyone else." Her voice softened. "And maybe you should talk to her in person, too. Let her know you care about her."

"She won't answer my calls as myself. Only as a Thief." Goro laughed. "Isn't that just great? Alibaba will never agree to meet with me face-to-face. She's already threatened to go to someone else if we don't change Isshiki-san's heart soon. How am I going to get to her?"

"Well," said Yusuke. "How did you get to me when Sensei wouldn't let me contact you?"

"I used Futaba," said Goro. "And - "

He stopped, and felt his face flush up again, because he was an idiot.

"How fortunate, then," said Yusuke with a small smile. "That we both go to Kosei."

 "Hey," said Kurusu that evening in Leblanc. "You're not looking too hot tonight."

"Huh?" said Goro.

"You've been wiping the same plate for ten minutes. And unless it's got the nastiest stains known to mankind..."

He set it down. "It doesn't."

The boy put his hand up on his chin. "Want to tell me what's up?"

"You're not my therapist."

"No," said Kurusu. "But I am your friend, right?"

Goro scowled. "There's been a lot of that word today."

"Friend?"

"Yes." He grimaced. "My friends had to persuade me to use first names with them, even after we've known each other for months now. Then I discovered another friend was in great pain, and I'd missed the signs because I hadn't tried harder to help her when she first asked me - " He closed his eyes. "Everything's a hot mess right now."

Kurusu snorted.

Loudly.

"Excuse me?" said Goro.

"Sorry." The boy rubbed an eye. "Just... someone like you saying the phrase hot mess. It's so... incongruent."

Goro looked down at his hands. "Somehow I don't feel like using the thousand yen words tonight."

"You don't have to," said Kurusu. "So, tell me. What's up?"

Goro stared at him.

There was no one else in the cafe.

Boss was running errands and picking up supplies for Leblanc.

Once again, Futaba hadn't responded to any of his texts, and Alibaba was silent.

He could only wait until tomorrow to head to Kosei after school and catch Futaba before she left, or more likely, egged him on sight.

Kurusu was a detective.

Kurusu was a fellow teenager.

Kurusu was a friend... wasn't he?

At this point, there was very little to lose.

So Goro told him.

No, he didn't go on about the Metaverse or even mention names. He wasn't wholly braindead. Merely that he had a friend who was having difficulties with her mother, and he was at a loss at how to help her.

(He wasn't. But overnight change of hearts and temperaments was a Phantom Thief thing. Everyone else took relationship counselling.)

"I see," said Kurusu, when he was done. "No wonder you're out of it."

"I didn't realise how completely alone she was until now," Goro said. "I should have known better."

"Look on the bright side. At least she felt comfortable enough to even ask you how to fix things, in the beginning."

Goro frowned. "Does it? I shut her down, and - "

"Akechi," said Kurusu. "I think you're reading too much into it."

He glared. "Isn't this situation partially my fault?"

"Is it? Like you said, you didn't know. And it's not like she gave you that much to work with. She won't talk to you even now."

"Yes," said Goro. "But - "

"So why do you think it's your job to fix her problems for her?"

"... Kurusu," he said. "She's fifteen."

"You're eighteen," said Kurusu, as if his argument was self-evident. "And I might not be around as much as I'd like, but your life seems hectic enough already without trying to resolve another person's life issues."

"So?"

"So," emphasized he. "Why set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm?"

Goro froze up.

For a moment he was so angry he couldn't breathe, and Kurusu seemed to know he'd gone too far. He eased an inch back in his chair and looked at Goro warily, but didn't apologize.

Eventually, all he could muster was, "Why do you do what you do if you don't think any of it matters, Kurusu?"

"Did I say that?" said Kurusu.

Goro walked away, and went upstairs.

Morgana was lying on the couch, tail flicking in front of him as Goro sat down. Much as Boss had grown to him, cats weren't allowed in Leblanc, and when he wasn't wandering he spent it up here.

"Hey," the cat said in a soft voice. "Just say the word and I'll kick his ass for you."

Despite it, he laughed. God, but even now it sounded so fake and presumptuous. Why was so much of Goro unappealing even to himself? "How are you going to do that."

"Easy," said Morgana. "You shove him into the Metaverse, and I'll turn into the bus and run him over. He'll be a pancake before you know it."

Goro buried his face in his hands and snickered. "Terrible."

"I bet he tastes great with syrup."

"Morgana! Please."

"Well, I don't want to let Ryuji eat him."

"Okay, okay! Please stop."

"Goro," Morgana said. "We'll save her, alright? You know we will."

"... I know." Goro looked at him. "But it's not Isshiki-san we're so concerned about, are we."

"She used to work with Shido. Do you think..."

"That she's as bad as him? For Futaba's sake I hope not." He shrugged. "I don't know what he was like back then. Maybe his mask was better. Maybe he did care about cognitive science for its own purpose, and not as a tool. It's not important now."

"Still." Morgana snuck into his lap. "If Shido gets a hold of the Metaverse, what do you think he'd do with it?"

"Kill everyone who gets in his way," Goro said without hesitation. "There are rumours about him now. That he associates with the yakuza. But no one's ever been able to get proof."

"I bet he'd tank in the polls if we ever got some."

Goro scratched him behind the ear. "I'm not so sure it'd be that easy."

"We'll never know unless we try."

"Yes," he said, and Morgana smiled. "The Phantom Thieves always - "

"Akechi? Are you still mad?"

Creaking footsteps on the stairs, and then Kurusu was there, blinking over the railing at Goro and Morgana huddled up on the couch on the far side of the room.

He slipped fingers over Morgana's mouth. "No. I'm not."

"Can I come over, then?"

"... go ahead."

Morgana slunk out of Goro's lap as Kurusu approached, a hiss emerging from his lips when the boy tried to pet him.

"Yeesh. You're an angry guy, aren't you?"

"He's a stray," Goro lied as Morgana went downstairs and Kurusu sat down next to him.

"And he lives here?"

"At home. With Boss and I."

"Sounds cozy." Kurusu smiled, then looked down. "Hey. I'm sorry about earlier. What I said was fucked up."

"It was," Goro said.

"Ouch."

His lip curled. "Don't be funny, Kurusu."

The boy held up his hands in surrender, then dropped them when he saw Goro wasn't smiling. "Alright," he said. "What do you want me to be, then?"

Be...? "I don't want you to be anything," said Goro. "Except a little more sensitive, perhaps."

"Sensitive," repeated Kurusu.

"Does that not belong on my lips either?"

"No, no - it's fine. You just surprised me." Kurusu shrugged. "Like you always do."

"I couldn't possibly know what you mean by that."

"You do it too," Kurusu said, and when Goro narrowed his eyes, he added: "Saying stuff like that. Why pretend? You know what I mean, but you won't acknowledge it until I say it myself. Why not be honest with me?"

"... I'm always honest, Kurusu."

"See? You can't even say that with a straight face."

Goro sighed. "Is it wrong for someone like me to keep secrets?" he asked. "Do I have to bare every part of my soul to you before you'll deem me an authentic human being? I've already told you too much about my personal life as it is."

"You told me you have friends," said Kurusu. "Most people don't consider that oversharing."

"I have friends," Goro said again. "Don't you?"

The boy's smile was rigid in its plastic charm. "I have you."

"We don't even know each other, Kurusu," Goro breathed out. "I know nothing about you."

"Well. What do you want to know?"

He closed his eyes.

"I'm serious. I'll tell you. My birth date, my blood type, what grades I got in middle school - "

"You could tell me," Goro mumbled. "Why you're so invested in telling me not to care about other people so much."

Kurusu was still.

"I've never said anything like that," the boy said, his lips moving without feeling.

"No?" said Goro, pulling his knees up to his face. "Because I'd like to know. Every part of you is a contradiction. You're a private detective who's biased against government authority, yet you work cases with a public prosecutor you're close enough to use her first name with. You rescue cats from trees as a public service, but tell me I have better things to do than help a young friend who doesn't have anyone else in the world on her side. You say you admire the Phantom Thieves, but also that their change of hearts turn people into little more than obedient machines. Which is it, Kurusu? Which part of you am I supposed to believe?"

He wouldn't have been shocked then if Kurusu had gotten up and walked away.

After all, Goro had just done the same.

Instead, the boy gave an uncomfortable laugh and said, "Do I have to bare my soul to you, too?"

"You don't have to do anything," Goro whispered. "But right now I can't make sense of you at all."

"Oh." Kurusu wet his lips. "I bother you."

"You don't," said Goro. "But when you ask me to be honest, and yet you're still wearing that awful TV mask and trying to charm me like some lovesick fan, how can I not be suspicious?"

"Right. Honesty is a two-way street." Kurusu swallowed. "I... don't know where you want me to begin."

"Nowhere in particular," said Goro. "Just tell me something about yourself that's real... and I'll do the same."

"You will?" The look on his face was almost puppyish, and it made Goro ache. Why should he so excited to hear about the abject insipidity of Goro's life? Surely his was far more exciting?

"Yes," Goro said. "I promise."

"Okay," said Kurusu, and when he smiled this time he looked like a boy - really, like a sixteen-year-old boy with messy hair and slightly spotty skin on the underside of his jaw, and breath that smelled of Kona coffee. "Okay, so this one time, when I was around six, my cousin came over and told me this ghost story..."

 The next morning, Goro awoke to Morgana rolling around in his bed dreaming noisily about salmon, and the TV open in the living room to a news station.

"What is it?" he asked Boss, who was just standing there with a cup of coffee in his hand and a scowl on his face.

"More Phantom Thieves nonsense," Boss grumbled, and Goro's stomach dropped.

"Why? Have they done something recently?" He tried to keep his voice light, to no avail.

"No, it's not them. But someone calling them out." Boss snorted. "Some hacker group called Medjed just put up threats on a website. Saying they'll expose the Phantom Thieves' identities if they don't disband and turn themselves in to the police."

"Oh," said Goro, transfixed to the TV.

"And once again, this is what Medjed has written on its website," the news anchor was saying. "'Phantom Thieves, we will come after you. You are not invincible, and you will be stopped. Stop pretending you can change people's hearts. Stop acting outside the law. Turn yourselves in, and we will forget you. But keep persisting, and we will never forgive you. You have until August 21. Signed, Medjed.'"

 Goro: We have a problem.

Chapter Text

11. Steal the scientist’s heart I

The gates of Kosei were closed until the school bell rang for the day, and yet Goro waited outside in his Shujin uniform like the troglodyte he was. Makoto had snagged him a free period and he left school early to make the trip, yet in all his wisdom, he'd failed to pack a spare set of clothes to dissuade suspicion. Most high schoolers of good repute didn't wander the streets at this time of day, and he'd been questioned by some busybodies twice and been given the stink eye by a cop in a police koban he'd passed on the way.

He couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was going to be a disaster. He'd texted Alibaba in the morning about Medjed, and got no response. Hopefully Futaba wasn't pulling a prank here, or Goro didn't know what he would do next.

His phone buzzed.

Yusuke: I managed to get a first-year to tell me where Futaba's classroom is.

Yusuke: 3A.

Yusuke: Unfortunately I may not have been subtle enough.

Yusuke: Now my reputation at school is even more questionable than before.

Goro: That's fine.

Goro: Did you see her?

Yusuke: Yes.

Yusuke: She was in the library during lunch.

Yusuke: I usually spend it in the Western garden.

Goro: I'm glad to hear that.

Goro: Futaba?

Yusuke: She was deeply suspicious.

Yusuke: She nearly threw a book at me.

Yusuke: The last time we spoke she called me a “tall glass of water”.

Yusuke: Now she believes me a “narc”.

Goro: That could not be more Futaba if you tried.

Yusuke: I do not think she will meet with you.

Goro: No.

Goro: Happily, I'm not alone.

Goro: Thank you for your hard work, Yusuke.

Yusuke: It was my pleasure.

Yusuke: Goro.

“Ah,” said Morgana, paws on Goro’s shoulders. “If that's not young love, then I don't know what. A bit like me and Lady Ann.”

“Oh, Morgana,” Goro said pleasantly. “Unless your last name is Suzui, there is nothing going on between you and Ann.”

"... really, Goro."

"Yes. Now shoo." He let the cat down, and Morgana slid in easily through the gaps in the gate. "3A," he said. "Lead her right to me, and you'll get everything your heart desires for dinner after."

"We better be going to Jiro's," Morgana muttered as he padded off.

Goro crossed his arms and waited. There were three points of failure in his plan to catch Futaba. First: Yusuke, their inside man, who could go through Kosei unquestioned, if not unremarked upon. Second: Morgana, a very cute cat, with twice the brilliance and thrice the conceit of actual cats. Third, waiting outside the gates: Goro, the last person who should try to convince a younger girl who didn't like him to go home with him.

You see how this plan could fail? Yusuke was a being of pure human whimsy and inspiration. Unfortunately, he stuck out like a sore thumb wherever he went, and if he was lonely at Kosei as he seemed, then him approaching Futaba would seem inevitably suspicious.

Morgana was a cat, and cats were wonderful, but seldom belonged in schools.

Goro was Goro.

And so, Goro waited.

As time passed, he received texts in quick bursts from Yusuke.

Yusuke: Class will be over in half an hour.

Goro: Thank you.

Yusuke: I hope it is not too dull out there?

Goro: Not at all. Thinking the plan over right now.

Yusuke: Hm? Futaba or her mother?

Goro: Both.

Yusuke: Truly, a proverbial two birds with one stone.

Goro: I'll be glad if neither of them hate me after this.

Goro: They're Boss' two favourite people in the world.

Goro: And I doubt there is room in his heart for one more.

Yusuke: Nonsense.

Yusuke: You are very loveable, Goro.

Goro: I'll take that into consideration.

Yusuke: Math is my most difficult subject, yet I persevere.

Yusuke: At home Sensei would say I need devote myself only to the arts.

Yusuke: Everything else being tertiary.

Yusuke: But that alone would not a well-rounded person make.

Goro: Exactly.

Goro: I'm glad your foresight is greater than your former master's.

Yusuke: Ha...

Yusuke: You think so?

Goro: It's always been that way.

Yusuke: You honour me.

Yusuke: I can see you from my window.

Goro: Let me hide, then.

Yusuke: No!

Yusuke: It is enjoyable to have something else to look at for once.

Yusuke: Usually I am gazing only at the trees at this time of day.

Goro: Wishing class was over?

Yusuke: Wondering when next spring the peony blossoms will bloom again.

Goro: Perhaps that's material for your next painting.

Yusuke: I am not sure I could express it properly.

Goro: What harm is there in trying?

Goro: If it comes out poorly you need merely hide it from the rest of the world.

Goro: Or destroy it.

Yusuke: Oh.

Yusuke: Yes, I could.

Goro: It's fine if you don't.

Goro: I'm not an artist. Feel free not to take my advice.

Yusuke: Oh, good.

Yusuke: I did not know how to tell you that myself.

Yusuke: I beg pardon. The teacher passed by and my phone was nearly confiscated.

Goro: Then why are you still typing?

Yusuke: Because you look lonely out there.

Goro: I do not.

Goro: Never mind.

Goro: We'll talk later.

Yusuke: Wait.

Goro put his phone away, and ignored the buzzing in his pocket until the school bell rang.

Goro: Please go now.

Yusuke: Yes!

 Students in blue and black and white uniforms began to stream from the now-open school gates in streams and trickles. A few gave Goro suspicious looks, but he just pretended to busy himself with his phone, and prayed Yusuke was not typing as he went to find Futaba.

Then the inevitable call came.

"Hello?" said Yusuke, the sound of indescribable voices in argument in the background. "Goro, I am afraid Futaba is not being cooperative, neither will she let Morgana go. Will you come up to the third floor?"

"Are you talking to Akechi right now? Oh my God, tell him to stay out of my life - "

"As you can see, I would be glad for your assistance."

"GORO FUTABA JUST SAID SHE'S KIDNAPPING ME AND NEVER GIVING ME BACK HELP - "

For the love of God. Goro pushed past the students leaving and booked it inside as soon as there was space. Up the stairs and past annoyed, "Hey! Watch where you're going" and "Um, who is that guy? Is he from another school?" he burst onto the third floor hallway, where he found Futaba and Yusuke engaged in a tug-of-war with Morgana in the middle, and a healthy crowd of students looking upon and gossiping, some with phones in their hands.

He needed to shut this down. "Futaba," Goro said. "Let's go to Leblanc. I need to talk to you about something important."

"Akechi!" Futaba scowled, holding Morgana tightly to her chest. "Go away. I told you I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"Goro, I don't have feeling in my tail," Morgana said, looking dazed.

"Futaba, you're hurting Morgana," Goro said. "Give him back."

"Yes, he is a valuable asset to our team," Yusuke said, reaching for the cat, who instinctively batted away his hand with a leg.

Yusuke stared at his hand, whereupon a scratch had immediately formed. "... you scratched me," he said, sounding disappointed. "Why would you do that, Morgana."

"Futaba," Goro hissed. "I know you're upset at me, and believe me, I want to apologize to you for it. But there's something you really need to know, and we can't talk about it here."

"Piss off," Futaba mouthed, giving him the free finger while Morgana now dangled helplessly in the air, her remaining arm glued tight against his neck. "I don't need your help, Akechi, I got someone else to do what you wouldn't - "

"SOMEONE HELP ME, PLEASE," screeched Morgana, and managed to claw Futaba, drawing blood and forcing her to drop him.

"Ow, Morgana! What the hell!"

He ran to Goro, who scooped him up. "You... you traitor!" Futaba said. "Fine. I was going to buy you treats after, but I guess you like Mr Mophead better. The two of you belong together anyway! You... you..."

"Finish that sentence," said Goro, "and I'll tell your mother what you've been doing behind her back." His lip curled, and he leaned close so no one else could hear. "Alibaba."

"What?" said Futaba.

"Hm," said Yusuke. "This seems an inappropriate venue for the reveal, but I'll take it."

"What the hell are they whispering?" a student said just a few feet away.

Futaba sucked in her breath. "How would you know about Alibaba," she said. "Unless - "

Her eyes were like saucers.

"No," she said. "No. You've got to be fucking with me. There's no way in hell that you're - you're - oh my God, Akechi, I hate you! I told you everything!"

And straight up tried to punch Goro in the face.

"That's enough," said Yusuke, and blocked her, closing his hand around her much smaller fist. "Don't you think you're being childish? You have no idea what Goro's been trying to do for you the past week - how we've been helping him for you."

"Get off me, narc!" Futaba kicked at him, but Yusuke was both far taller, and somehow upsettingly strong, keeping her restrained and helpless to actually hurt him. Goro watched in bemusement; he'd had no idea Fox was like this.

"Let's go home, Futaba," Goro said. "Unless you want me to break our promise."

"You can't," she said, and tears began to flush up in her eyes. "If you do it, Akechi, I'm going to break every bone in your body and leak everything that's ever been in your file since birth - "

"So stop making a scene and help us. You think I want to be in this position either, having to hunt you down so you'll fulfill your end of the deal?"

"There is much we are hoping to share with you," said Yusuke in magnanimous spirit, even though Futaba's nails were digging into his fingers like pockmarks. "But you must be willing to cooperate."

"Him," said Futaba. "This guy is a - is one of you. No freaking wonder. I thought - I just thought you had a crush on him."

Oh, Futaba. Goro was really going to do something stupid now. He opened his mouth to say something aggravating when suddenly the din of the crowd fell into a suffocated silence, and a new voice broke out:

"Akechi? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, what?" Futaba said in shock, stepping back. Yusuke let go of her too, and widened his eyes at the interloper. "Are you telling me he's involved too?"

"Yo," said Kurusu Akira, wearing the blue blazer, white dress shirt, and black pants of the Kosei boys' uniform. Messenger bag with the red eye sigil slung oh-so-casually over one shoulder, hair delightfully askew as usual. Dress shirt not tucked in, and worn over his pants like a hooligan.

And wearing, for some damned reason, glasses.

(Since when did he need glasses? Had he always been parading around Goro in contacts?)

"Having fun without me again?" Kurusu said with a grin on his face, and Goro thought about the melting into the earth and dying.

Picture the scene, if you will:

Isshiki Futaba, teary-eyed and red-faced, just recently ceased from attempting to physically assault a senior from another school, and one from her own. Weighing all of eighty pounds, with an attitude of eight hundred. Possibly a literal kappa demon in her past life.

Kitagawa Yusuke, former pupil of the now-infamous plagiarist Madarame and general school eccentric. One day to host a sold-out exhibition at the Louvre and spend three years in middle-aged bohemian travel painting the natural wonders of China in a twenty-piece collection he would never sell. For now, in the role of group strongman despite a frame resembling a scarecrow living on better times. Also, could block hits like, damn.

Akechi Goro, the outlier in his red-and-black checkered Shujin pants, holding a flustered black cat in his arms and looking, for the expression of dumbstruck hopelessness on his face like someone one-tenth his natural IQ. If he had the capacity to even think at this moment he would have heard Robin Hood howling in the back of his mind.

And Kurusu Akira with his hands in his pockets, guffawing: "So, uh... Akechi. You know these people?"

"Holy shit," said Futaba, and while Goro was glad she was no longer hostile, the sheer betrayal in her tone held a different kind of danger. "Holy shit . Akechi, you know Kurusu?"

"Yeah," said Kurusu. "He does." His gaze turned to Yusuke. "And... both of you know Kitagawa?" He raised a brow. "That's some heavy company you're rolling in there. Wait. Is he the guy you were talking about earlier?"

"Hell no I don't know Kitagawa!" said Futaba. "I just know this nerd, who - "

"Futaba," said Goro with the fakest smile he had ever smiled in his life on his face. "We're on the same team, remember? You want me to help you or all your hopes and dreams are flying away into an abyss of despair and lost potential, never to return."

"You are helping me regardless!" hissed Futaba. "Or you and the rest of your merry band of chucklefucks are never going to know what hit you. You will be on Interpol's list for the rest of your short pathetic lives!"

"I'm so sorry, Kurusu," Yusuke said, and grabbed both of them by the shoulder, hauling them away with terrifying ease into the distant stairwell. "But we must depart. Now. My companions and I must discuss further our - our conversation - elsewhere - farewell - "

"For love of everything, Yusuke," Morgana howled. "Just go!"

"Yes, fine, let's!" said Futaba. "Before the teachers come and find out. Go, Akechi, go!" She pushed other students out of the way. "Will all of you just get out of here already!"

"Akechi," Kurusu was saying. "Wait. Wait - "

Goro just let himself be dragged away without responding to the other boy or even looking at him one last time. As far as he was concerned, he was already in hell.

 "So," said Futaba an hour later in Leblanc's attic, the rest of the Thieves gathered around her in awkwardly casual fashion. "You. You're a Phantom Thief."

"Guilty," said Goro, who would never again attempt subterfuge in his life now that he had been socially humiliated beyond actual torture.

"And all of you are Phantom Thieves." Her gaze swivelled around the whole room like an owl with insomnia.

"Yo," said Ryuji, waving.

"That's right!" said Ann with a stiff giggle.

"Hello." Makoto bowed. "Glad to make your acquaintance."

Yusuke nodded, hands set in front of his stomach.

"And..." Futaba stared down at their smallest offending member. "Morgana. Can. Talk."

"Mrr?" said Morgana.

"What? What did he say there?"

"Nothing," said Goro.

"He's just fucking with you," said Ryuji. "Wait. I can swear around you, right?"

"Fuck off, I'm fifteen."

"Ookay then - "

"Hey! Keep it down up there!" Boss shouted.

Oh, right. They had all ran into Leblanc while he'd been in the bathroom. He didn't... technically know Futaba was here yet.

"Futaba," said Goro. "Listen."

"Fine." She crossed her arms. "Apologize."

Well, this was easily the worst thing that had ever happened to Goro.

"Futaba," he said. "We're going to change your mother's heart." He swallowed. "And we want you to join us."

It had been a risky choice, suggesting it. Every time a new member of the Thieves came into being, so did a potential liability. Goro had brought it up in the morning group text, and consensus had come to by lunch. They had all seen the cognitive Futaba in distress when they fled her mother's Palace, and all felt pity for the poor girl, even if her real self was the opposite of cooperative at the moment.

"You want me to help you?" said Futaba. " How? "

And like that, the dams broke open.

"The cognitive world is real, Futaba-chan," said Ann.

"It's called the Metaverse," said Ryuji. "Your mom was right."

"About everything ," said Makoto. "The desires and consciousness of humans do manifest - into Shadows, and Palace rulers. And all of us have Personas to fight those Shadows and make the world a better place."

"We even spoke to a cognitive version of you in your mother's Palace," said Yusuke. "She wanted us to help her as much as you do now. You both have been yearning for this for so long. How could we not help?"

"Please," said Goro. "I know this has been hard on you, Futaba. I know you've felt alone for a while, that no one wanted to help or understand you. We do." He held out his hands. "Don't you want to find out the truth about what your mother's been working on all these years? About how she truly feels about you?"

"Mrr," said Morgana. "Mrr! Mrr!"

Futaba stared down at him and reached down to stroke his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Morgana," she whispered. "I just don't understand what you're saying right now."

What Morgana was actually saying: "Futaba, get your ass into gear and fight with us!"

Goro translated: "He says you'd be a great member of the team and he loves you, even after you nearly choked him to death."

"Really, Goro?" said Morgana. "Ryuji's allowed to swear, but I'm not?"

"Oh." Futaba blinked, tears streaming at the corner of her eyes. "Come on, guys." She crumpled in onto herself. "Look, even if what you're saying is the truth, I'm just... look at me. I'm a shrimp. I can't even open a Pepsi bottle sometimes. What could I possibly do to help the Phantom Thieves?"

"Well," said Makoto. "Someone told us you're a very good hacker."

"And we kind of need one right now," said Ann, twisting her fingers in a knot. "Since we're in a little spot of trouble!"

"Some shitheel hacker threatening to dox us and ruin our lives, no problem," said Ryuji. "Noooo idea how you could help us with that."

"Medjed," said Yusuke. "I wonder. Do you think the name is relevant to Isshiki-san's Palace? They both have themes in Egyptian history - "

"Wait," Futaba squeaked. "Medjed? Are you being real right now?"

"Futaba," said Goro. "I have never lied to you a single day in your life."

 She explained on the way to Chiyoda-ku.

"What the fuck! Medjed used to be like my old hacker name," Futaba said, not even bothering to keep her voice down. The rest of the Thieves huddled around her like a protective guard so the few others on their train didn't overhear or glare too much in their general direction. "But it was when I was young. Still in middle school. I used it whenever I was bored and felt like hacking a website and leaking information for fun. But that was years ago. I even gave it up because it got boring and no one cared." She scowled. "Who the hell is this copycat and why are they jacking my swagger?"

"Swag... ger," said Yusuke in a moment of perfect contemplation. "Hm."

"The point is," said Goro in a low voice. "They've threatened to reveal our identities if we don't give ourselves in to the police soon. And that is not happening."

"No way in hell," said Ryuji.

"Come on, Futaba-chan," said Ann. "You know you want to."

"We believe in you," said Makoto. "And we want to help you to the best of our abilities."

"'tis seldom one gets the chance to wrestle with their most personal demons while surrounded with friends who support them," said Yusuke. "It was the most liberating experience of my life."

"The Awakenings are very empowering, yes," said Goro. "Futaba. I meant everything I said to you as Alibaba."

"What," said Futaba. "The mean shit too?"

"No," said Goro.

"Fine." She crossed her arms. "What does Morgana have to say about this?"

"I don't want to be a part of this conversation," said Morgana.

"He says, welcome to the team," said Goro.

"Goro!" said Morgana.

"I'm in," said Futaba.

"Alright," said Goro. "Stay calm."

"Holy fucking shit," said Futaba. "The cognitive world is real ."

"Stay behind us," Queen warned as Goro and Skull tried to open the pyramid entrance in futile effort. "The Palace ruler's deemed us enemies since the last time we were here, so there'll be Shadows everywhere who'll kill you if they get a chance. Do not let that happen."

"Yeah," said Futaba, staring at all their costumes in shock. "Yeah, um... I'll listen now. Hoo boy."

"It's no good," said Goro. "We'll have to find another way in."

"Let's look around," said Ann. "Um, here, Futaba-chan. Let's go search together."

She led Futaba away by the hand. The rest of the team scattered too, and soon they found an alternate entrance in the form of a hole in the ground that led to the pyramid's underground levels.

"Wait, wait!" Futaba yelped when without a word both Skull and Queen jumped into the hole and vanished. "You're not serious, right? We're going to die if we do that!"

"The Metaverse isn't like the real world," said Goro. "Belief here is more powerful than reality. Belief is reality. If you believe you'll survive this fall, you will."

"We've all basically gotten shot and shocked and set on fire a thousand times and still gotten up after," said Panther. "So yeah! No biggie."

"No, definite biggie!" Futaba howled, and screamed as Panther suddenly wrapped an arm around her waist and jumped down with her. "Akechi, help me - "

And then she was gone.

"Oh, brother," muttered Mona, and jumped down next, leaving Goro and Fox.

"Things are proceeding nicely, aren't they?" said Fox. "She's taking this better than we thought."

Goro smiled. "She's not trying to desecrate my face anymore, so yes, I'll take everything else as a positive."

"And what a shame it would have been too, had she marked it," said the other boy, and leapt down with the lightness of a feather and the grace of a fox.

"What?" said Goro, and despite his words to Futaba, nearly landed face-first on his way down.

Futaba had been angry before, but now her face as they traversed through the first of the dungeons under the Palace and fought their way back up to the main staircase was pure wonderment and exhilaration at the fantastical world unveiling before her.

"Holy shit, Skull, that Swift Strike - "

"Panther, where is your fire coming from?"

"Mona, you can heal people? How is that even possible!"

"Oh my God, Queen! You just knocked them out in one attack!"

"Fox! I take back everything I said about you! That Bufudyne was insane!"

And, of course...

"You! Why do you all of people get multiple Personas when everyone else is much cooler and only has one!"

Unable to stop himself, Goro grinned despite the weariness already setting in his bones. "Jealous?"

"Yes!" she cried out. "Give me one!"

"Be patient," said Goro. "Come on, we're almost to the staircase again - "

And then they were there, and the two Futabas were staring at each other.

One, in her Kosei uniform, sweating from the exertion of running around everywhere, and openly gawking.

The other, stepping forward with her hands in front of her.

"You all came back," whispered the cognitive Futaba with tears in her eyes. "And you! My other self!" She flung her arms around Futaba, who stood rigid; petrified. "With the two of us combined, surely our Mother will see reason!"

"Akechi..." Futaba began with pure terror in her voice. "What am I looking at right now?"

Goro stepped forward. "Futaba, this is a cognitive version of you. Basically, it's how Isshiki-san perceives you in her mind."

"Mom sees me as an Egyptian ghost princess?"

"... it's a metaphor," Skull said. "Look, it doesn't really make sense, but Palaces are more about feelings than anything else. Don't think too hard about it or this place will probably actually fall down and kill us."

"Skull's right," said Goro. "Futaba?"

"Yes?" said both Futabas at once.

"I meant... cognitive Futaba." She wandered to him on her delicate floating feet while the real one grumbled over to Panther's side. "How have you been since the last time we met? Are you alright?"

She laced her fingers together. "I am fine," she said in her small voice. "But now you see Mother has locked the staircase leading to her Treasure within many barriers. You will have to go through the whole Palace and unlock them before we can access it again."

"I see," Goro said.

"Oh! I will help, of course," she said. "Mother has warned the Shadows to be leery of me, but even so, I know this Palace better than she sometimes." She smiled wanly. "At least with the barriers around, she will not notice your presence for a while yet. Please, do try your best."

"We will," Goro promised. "We came back for you, after all."

"I know," she said. "I know, I know! Please - let us go forward and pursue our first dungeon!"

"Wait," said the real Futaba.

The cognitive Futaba stopped, and floated over to her likeness. "Yes?"

"You..." said Futaba. "How long have you been here?"

"How long?" The cognitive blinked her stark yellow eyes. "I... am not sure. Time does not pass in the Palace as it does elsewhere. I could have existed for a thousand years and not know one day from another."

"Guess," said Futaba. "Please. Tell me how long you've existed for... how long my mom's thought of you - and me - like this."

"Do you remember your first memory here, Futaba?" Goro asked, and once again, when both looked at him he wondered how he could possibly separate the two of them while together.

"... yes," said the cognitive. "I - I remember when the Palace was not so large. When it was not yet a pyramid, nor did it have so many layers."

"When the distortion was small," said Queen.

"Tell me," said Futaba. "When did Mom's workplace stop being fun for her, and became something she felt she needed to do or else?"

"I... I cannot remember," said cognitive Futaba. "I only recall - no, not even the sight of windows. There have never been any windows in this place." She looked torn. "I wonder what it means?"

"Perhaps," ventured Fox. "The workplace was the initial spark of distortion to begin with."

"She could have worked in a different location before," said Goro. "And when she was forced to relocate here after her funding was cut - "

"She got pissed," said Futaba. "Got it."

Her voice had gone flat. Cognitive Futaba looked nervous, floating a foot above her human twin. "Have I said something wrong?" 

"Nah," said Futaba, and her voice was breaking. "Nah. It's just - I was like three years old then when she moved locations to this shithole she works in now. So, to think my mom's had this Palace for so long - that she's been fucked in the head for so long, and I had no idea. I just thought she'd turned into this work-obsessed freak who only talks about cognitive crap and getting revenge on Shido recently, but she's always been like this, hasn't she?" Tears dripped down her face. "I never had a chance."

"Futaba," Queen said in a soft voice. "The Palace is a distortion of her true nature. She doesn't really feel like this - "

"Well, which the fuck is it!" Futaba shouted. "Is the Palace how she really feels about me or not? If it's not, then why the fuck am I doing here? And if it is, then why the fuck am I doing here?" She began to sob. "This is so messed up. I don't want to do this anymore."

"You have to," said Goro.

"Fuck off, Akechi."

"Futaba. We're doing this for you," he snapped. "I knew from the minute you talked to me as Alibaba who you were. I accepted the request only because it was you. I want to help you, Futaba."

She shook her head. "At this point I don't even know how it would help. Change my mom's heart and she won't even be someone I know anymore. I won't even be saving her because the person I thought I was saving doesn't even exist. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?"

The others were silent. The changes of heart had all worked to their benefits - but the targets had been criminals, those who deserved the full brunt of the Thieves' justice upon them.

Isshiki Wakaba was by all means a workaholic, neglectful to her only family left in this world, and obsessed with revenge.

But there were a lot of people like that in the world, and if that alone meant she needed to have her heart changed, then so did a billion other people.

Including Goro.

"Tell me what you want to do, Futaba," he said, keeping his hands tight behind his back. "Do you want to go home? We'll go home and never talk about Palaces or the Metaverse again. Tell us to go forward and change your mother's heart, and we'll do that. But we are not doing this Palace without you. The only reason I agreed to Alibaba's request was because it was you. I - " He nearly choked on his words, gritted them out with all the breath he had left in his lungs. "You have no idea how much I've worn myself out - wondering if you were safe, texting you constantly to make sure you knew I was still thinking about you, hoping you would realize there was still someone left in this world who wanted to help you. I would have never turned you down, do you get it? It didn't matter if Alibaba pissed in my hands and gave me nothing, I would have done it regardless because I care about you!"

"Akechi," Futaba said, and began to cry again. "I..."

"Pick an answer in the next five minutes, Futaba," Goro said. "Because I am not doing this again."

And walked away.

"Holy shit," said Skull. "I have never seen him lose it like that."

"I..." Panther was at a dead loss, her mouth agape.

"Hey. Futaba," Queen said. "Futaba, it's alright. He didn't mean it."

"Oh, he meant it," Skull said, and Futaba crumpled into a ball and cried.

"I did it," she said, tears streaming through her fingers. "I did it again. First Mom hated me, and now Akechi. What next? I haven't talked to Sojiro in weeks. Maybe he hates me too, and that's why I'm alone. Again."

"You're not," said Mona, padding over. "Futaba. Hey. Look at me."

"Morgana," she sniffled. "I really pissed Akechi off, didn't I?"

"Yes," said Fox, his tone severe. "Yes, you did."

"Not helping, Fox!" 

"It doesn't matter anymore," said he. "I am disappointed as well."

And he left them to walk the stairs down to Crow, leaning against the door of the pyramid entrance with his eyes closed and arms crossed.

After a moment, incredulously, the cognitive Futaba left as well.

"I'm sorry," Futaba whispered. "I'm sorry. I made you all come up here, and for nothing. You must hate me too."

"No, Futaba," said Panther. "We don't hate you." She kneeled and rubbed the girl's back. "It's okay to be upset. You just got dealt some heavy information - "

"Plus, it's your mom," said Skull. "Listen. For us, taking Kamoshida down was easy. He was a scumbag even the police didn't bother with. If we hadn't changed his heart, he would have continued abusing students at Shujin forever." He bit his lip. "But this is different. Your mom's not a criminal. She's just - "

"It's not that," Futaba mumbled, taking her glasses off, her face puffy and flushed beyond measure.

"... here. I got a handkerchief."

"Thanks." She rubbed her face in it. "Thanks," Futaba said again, and laughed a little.

"We're all ears," said Queen. "Please, tell us how you're feeling."

"It's just..." She sucked on her lip. "I thought that if I could change my mom back to the way she used to be, everything would be great. She'd... spend time with me again, and not argue on the phone all night along about things that didn't matter. But they do." She closed her eyes. "This research matters to her. She's a workaholic because she cares about her job, even if it gets her no respect. And Shido..."

"We heard all about him," said Mona. "He's a scumbag to the tenth degree."

"Yeah. So who am I... why am I preventing Mom from trying to take revenge on him?" She rubbed at her eyes with Skull's handkerchief. "She has files of him, you know. Allegations about allying with yakuza... anecdotal reports from the people he's hurt over the years... suspicious money wires to no-name companies. There isn't evidence for all of them, but if she leaked them at the right time it could end his career. Isn't it good that someone wants to fight against someone like Shido?"

"Maybe," said Queen. "But what about how she treats you, Futaba? Do you think that's right, too?"

Futaba buried her head in her knees. "I deserve it."

"The hell you do," said Skull. "You're fifteen, the hell have you done to deserve your mom neglecting you and treating you like shit?"

"She doesn't... treat me like shit," said Futaba. "She just - "

"She's just not there like she used to be," said Queen. "Right?"

Futaba nodded, and wiped at her eyes again.

"Maybe she never was," she said. "And I was just too young and naive to get it. Maybe she's just like this, and I assumed that a mother would be different because - because I love my mom, and yet she's not there for me when I need her, it can't be her, right? It has to be something else. It has to be something out of her control, because if she'd never hurt me on purpose, it couldn't be her true feelings when she tells me I'm rude and annoying and that I need to be more like Akechi, someone who's never had parents and doesn't cry about it, doesn't feel lonely and never - never feels like he's not enough for those around him - "

"Oh," said Panther. "Oh, Futaba."

She embraced the girl, and let Futaba cry on her shoulder. "It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay."

"To tell you the truth, Futaba," said Mona. "Goro doesn't feel that way at all."

She sniffled. "No?"

"Goro's always trying to please people," said Mona. "I know it always seems like he's in control, because he'd rather die than let people doubt him for a single moment, but he cares so much about getting people to like him, even if he nearly breaks himself for it. Whether he's working or helping Boss out in Leblanc or spending time with people, he's always running around from one place to another to do things for others. Think about it." He swallowed. "You're right, you know. Your mom's not a criminal. There's no reason we should go after her, because she's not hurting anyone. But he said yes. He said yes to your request when he knew you were Alibaba, but you didn't know it was him. Why is that?"

"I... don't know," said Futaba. "I thought the Phantom Thieves listened to every request they got."

"Futaba, if that was possible we'd never leave the Metaverse," said Queen wryly. "We can only ever agree to a handful of requests. There's so much people who need help, and only so many of us to begin with."

"And yet, Goro wanted to help you," Mona said. "He even lied to protect your identity so you wouldn't get caught up in this. We only found out because the cognitive version of you surprised us."

"It's too late now, though," Skull said. "You're in it now, for better or for worse."

"So let's make it better." Panther squeezed her shoulder. "Futaba... you don't have to change your mother's heart, and we won't do it without your permission. But it doesn't have to be the end right now."

"What do you mean by that?" Futaba hiccuped.

"We can still explore," said Mona. "Look around. It's true the Palace isn't a perfect representation of your mother's mind, but nothing can be, even in the Metaverse. Maybe she loves you. Maybe she doesn't. Maybe it was Shido who made her this way, maybe she was always that way.

"But maybe, just maybe, if we go through her Palace we'll find the truth, no matter how small it is," he added. "And the truth is, Futaba, that the truth hurts. It reveals to us stuff about people we never imagined they could be like. How they really feel about us when they're not smiling at us, how they talk about us when we're not there."

"Right," said Queen. "We can't promise you salvation, Futaba. Nothing can do that. But at least it might answer a few of your questions."

"You've been wondering for a long time," said Panther. "Let's find out, right now."

"I don't know," Futaba said. "I still don't know. What if - what if - "

"Are you scared?" said Skull.

"Yeah," she whimpered. "Yeah."

"Me too," he said. "I was scared shitless in the beginning. I was alone at school, railing at Kamoshida all alone. No one believed me, even when I did my best to shout the truth from the rooftops, and tell you what, I didn't think it would ever change for the better."

"Oh, Ryuji," Panther said, voice cracking. "I'm so sorry."

"And then the king of the nerds himself came out of freaking nowhere and told me he believed me," said Skull. "I had no idea why. Hell, he had more reason than me to put his head down and shut up and conform. He could have been sent back to the fucking orphanage he grew up in if he'd screwed up. Even now I have no idea why he agreed to help me. But you know what?"

"What?" croaked Futaba.

"I," said Sakamoto Ryuji, "am so glad he gave me a chance. It didn't matter anymore that no one else cared - that no one trusted me still. For once in my goddamned small life, it felt like someone was giving me an opportunity to reach into myself and tear down every part of me that was scared and weak and stupid so I could finally move on. Because I was scared, and hell, I'm still weak sometimes, and people definitely call me stupid.

"But I'm not scared anymore,” he said. "Because someone fought for me in the most terrifying moment of my life, and saved me from the smallest parts of myself. He saved me from myself, and ever since - " He stopped. “Hell, you know the rest.”

"We want to save you too, Futaba," said Queen, the iron of her mask wet with moisture.

"And with that power within yourself, Futaba, you can save your mother," said Mona. "I know you can."

"We'll be right behind you all the way," promised Panther. "So, how about it?"

Futaba said nothing, only turned her gaze to the entrance of the pyramid, where Crow and Fox and her cognitive self were.

She said, "I've made my choice."

 "I'm sorry."

Goro kept his eyes shut. He knew who it was.

"I'm sorry," the cognitive Futaba said again. "I wish I was her."

He couldn't help it. "I wish you were her too. So she'd finally see reason."

"I have been here for so long," said she. "Yet I cannot even remember if a year has passed or only a day. Tell me: was my true self only three years old when this Palace manifested inside our Mother?"

"Yes," said Goro. "I think so."

"Twelve years," said Fox. "Twelve years this Palace has been growing, stone by stone."

"It was a small place, once," said Futaba, wrapping arms around herself. "I remember being allowed in the Treasure room before, when the Palace was but four thin walls and I little myself." She closed her eyes. "I must have been little once, surely."

"You've grown," said Goro. "Alongside the Palace, and Isshiki-san's distortions."

"Yes," the girl said, and smiled sadly. "I have."

God, this was... so wretched. For all of them. "I'm sorry," Goro said. "I thought I was helping."

"You are," said Fox. "If Futaba wasn't so - "

"Maybe Kurusu was right. Maybe this isn't my burden."

"Pray, what do you mean by that?" said the other boy in a soft voice.

"Kurusu... told me not to set myself on fire to keep someone else warm," said Goro. "When he said that I was so angry I wanted to hit him. I couldn't imagine how someone who works in the law could be so selfish... so nihilistic. Now I think I get it." He shrugged. "You can't help people who don't want to be helped."

"No," said Fox. "No, Crow. He's wrong."

"Is he?" Goro grinned wearily. "You know, Kurusu has no friends. He says I'm the only one he has, and that's so perverse, because I don't even like him half the time. Yet right now I'm so fucking jealous of him." He leaned his head against the wall. "He only ever has to think about himself. What a life."

"What a life. Do you regret everything the Thieves have done to help people, then? Do you regret helping me?"

Fox - no, Yusuke now, was pale and trembling and agitated. His skin had gone white as chalk, and the tension in his posture, had Goro been a Shadow, would have sent him running.

"No, Yusuke," he whispered. "I've never regretted helping you. Not for a moment.

"But," he said. "You wanted to be helped."

"You're lying. When you came to me I was still in denial about Sensei's use of me."

"You knew deep down inside it was wrong," said Goro. "It didn't take me more than two days of work to convince you to drop him like a dirty rag."

"It wasn't - " Yusuke flushed. "It wasn't like that. You don't know how I struggled to make my choice."

"No," said Goro dully. "I don't.

"I don't know anyone's struggle but my own."

"Please don't fight," said Futaba. "This Palace has already torn my true self and I asunder. Not you two as well."

Yusuke said nothing.

Goro did neither.

Yusuke spoke again first. "Why then."

"Why what."

"Why did you choose to be a Phantom Thief? Why did you do it?"

Goro frowned. "You know, I genuinely have no idea."

"Honesty is key, Crow," said Yusuke, then shook his head. "I'm talking to Akechi Goro right now."

So he was. "Perhaps you want to know if I had some moral breaking point or not," said Goro. "If Kamoshida reminded me of some of my own teachers and social workers back home... and yes, he did. But he wasn't targeting me. I had no reason to care."

"But you did. You helped Ryuji. You took him into the Metaverse. And Ann too - "

"I don't know why I did that either."

"Goro, please. Be honest."

"I am being honest, Yusuke. I don't know. I don't know why I do a lot of things, contrary to popular belief. I don't know why I allowed this Phantom Thief nonsense to continue long after it stopped affecting me personally. I don't know why I wanted to save you - why I wanted to help Makoto. I don't know why I'm still in this Palace waiting for Futaba's answer now, when I could just go home and sleep and never go into the Metaverse again. I don't know."

"You know," said Yusuke. "It's because you care."

"Well, then." Goro crossed his arms. "I don't feel like caring right now, so excuse me for being childish about it."

"You are," said Yusuke, and unbelievably, began to laugh. "You are being intolerably childish, Goro, and all because something didn't go to plan - "

"Plan, plan! It wasn't my plan, it was Futaba's," Goro seethed. "It was all her, I was just the vehicle to do it. And I would have, if she let me."

He turned away, for the cognitive was staring at him now, and he could not fault her reaction for an excess of curiosity.

"You wanted to help her," said Yusuke. "Because you care about her, Goro."

"Yes, we're all aware of that," said Goro. "As well as the fact it nearly got me slapped in the face."

"It's not something that can be helped."

"What, being attacked?"

"No. The consequences of our actions. Both as Thieves and in our personal lives. We strive for justice through the gifts bestowed upon us, but we cannot predict how the dice will fall as a result."

"We know how the drill goes," said Goro. "Change someone's heart, they feel sorry and turn themselves into the police, atone et cetera."

"Even Isshiki-san?" said Yusuke. "What would a change of heart do for her?"

"Surely it will make Mother a better person," offered Futaba. "Won't it, Akechi?"

Even Goro didn't know the answer to that.

He crossed his arms. "It's been so long that at this point this Palace is a part of her, and if we destroy it - "

"We're taking away the essence of who she is," said Yusuke. "That's Futaba's present concern, right? Ah, the other Futaba," he told the cognition.

"Even if the essence of Isshiki-san is terrible at heart?" said Goro. "Is that worth preserving for the sake of... authenticity? Organic parental neglectfulness? Are we to praise the agency of awful people for its own sake?"

"Please, Goro. Do you think that word is something to take so lightly?"

"Which one," Goro said.

"Agency." Yusuke's gloved hands closed into fists. "Would you have tried to take it from me through a forceful change of heart had I disagreed with you about Sensei?"

"You didn't have a Palace," said Goro.

"If I did. Would you have?"

Abruptly, his mouth went dry.

"I... don't know," he said.

Yusuke shivered. "For the first time, I am beginning to wonder the wisdom of our ways. Whether what we do is moral... or merely inevitable because it is in our capacity to do it."

"Don't worry," said Goro. "There are plenty of terrible people in the world who'll definitely never make you regret changing their hearts." He couldn't help but smile. "At least it isn't murder, no?"

"No," said Yusuke blankly. "It is not."

God, but he was being an unbearable asshole. "I'm sorry. I'm not quite the perfect leader you thought I was."

"I've never thought you were perfect, Goro."

"Oh."

"But - " Yusuke swallowed. "I thought there was a greater purpose to you. Before."

Goro smiled despite himself. "Now you know. I'm even more imperfect than you thought." He took Yusuke's hand, and the boy let him hold it.

"You," said Goro, "have an innate justice. An inherent sense of what is right and wrong. You understand righteous behaviour, and shun unrighteous behaviour. I don't know whether it was born in you or if, improbably, Madarame happened to raise you right in this one aspect. But you are pure, Yusuke, in a way I can never be."

"Don't be ridiculous." He flushed. "I'm human as you, sullied and mortal as the rest of humanity."

"I don't believe it," Goro whispered. "Do you?"

"Goro!" said Yusuke, tearing his hand away only to grab his shoulders and shake him. "Please. Do you honestly believe you're so different from me at the end of the day?"

"That's what I've been saying this time," Goro said. "You save people because it's the right thing to do, and because you always try to do the right thing you worry about the implications of your every action, even the ones that saved you from Madarame." He crooked his smile. "Me? I have no idea why I do anything. I'm like a drunken bag of insects tottering here and there, wondering if this thing I do is what will get people to like me without having to know me. There's a reason I've spent my whole life in an institution. People know what I am from the moment they look at me - "

"Shut up," said Yusuke.

"Shut up," said Yusuke, and took Goro's mask off.

"Shut up," said Yusuke, and embraced him.

Goro shut up. Behind Yusuke, Futaba looked at them with a blend of tenderness and envy.

How alone she must be even now, he thought, and screwed his eyes shut so he didn't have to look at her anymore.

"Shut up," said Yusuke, his words vibrating against Goro's ears, his throat, his heart. "Shut up, Goro, and stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself. When will you see how you've changed our lives for the better? Are you going to say it doesn't matter you helped Ryuji because you did it for fun? Are you going to tell Ann it doesn't matter Kamoshida's heart was changed because even when you fought against him, you didn't really care? Are you going to tell Makoto and all the students Kaneshiro abused that it doesn't matter he's no longer in the wider world to hurt them anymore?" His whole body shook as he absorbed Goro into him. "Are you going to tell me," he whispered, "what you did for me doesn't matter either?"

Oh, what a world.

Despite it all, Goro's eyes swarmed with tears. He couldn't help it.

"No," he croaked. "No, I could never tell you that."

"So stop telling yourself that you don't matter," whispered Yusuke. "That's what you're doing every time you demean something you've done to help another. How could you, Goro? How could you tell yourself that you're worthless?"

"Yusuke," Goro said, and every sliver of his voice was in shards and pieces. "Knowing who I am, how could I not?"

And like that, even the cognition of Futaba began to cry.

There was nothing to be done for it. Goro was Goro, the boy who had been born to a mother who killed herself rather than raise him, to a father who shunned him since birth and spat on him again when he was thirteen. No one at the homes he had been passed around in or at the institution liked him, not before Ogawa-sensei, and even she had been leery of him in the beginning because Goro was an angry child, Goro was a restless child, Goro was the kind of child that grew up to be a mass murderer, and once he had committed his bloodbath and sank back into the rot of despair from where he had been conceived, no one would ever look at him and say, "He should have been given another chance."

In this world, Akechi Goro was only a good boy because he had been tricked into it by a strange hook-nosed man in a dreamlike room of endless cells, and two childlike attendants with the word OXYMORON scattered in between their regal caps.

There was no part of him that was inherently good at all.

No, not at all.

And yet.

And yet -

"You know, it's so stupid," Goro said through a mouthful of tears and laughter. "Everytime someone wants to get close to me, they have to take my mask off or I'll end up poking them in the eyes first. Why is that? Why did my subconscious even think of something so counterproductive and alienating?"

"It's because you're a stubborn fool who doesn't believe he deserves love or affection whatsoever," said Yusuke.

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yes, Goro," said Yusuke. "Now stop fussing. Futaba is coming. The real Futaba."

"Oh!" The cognition wiped her eyes. "Hurry, hurry! We must make ourselves presentable."

"Don't worry about me," Goro said as he and Yusuke disengaged at last. "I can't be helped in that regard. I'm a hot mess at all times."

"That I have always known," said Yusuke. "My dear fool."

 "I want to go home," said Futaba.

"Alright," said Goro, who had nothing left in him to resist.

"For today," she said. "I want us to prepare, and come back tomorrow. We're not done here."

"Good," said Fox. "See, Goro? It was not for nothing."

"No, you're right," said Goro. "We should come back later." His face was patchy and red, his mask hanging off the belt on Fox's waist. It was obvious he'd been in distress, ridiculous as it might seem to another.

Futaba stepped forward.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey yourself."

"I'm sorry, Akechi. I totally freaked out on you for no reason."

"You had a reason," said Goro. "As did I."

"Are you better now?"

"Surprisingly," said Goro. "Yes. I feel better. Thank you, Fox."

"It was my pleasure."

The rest of the team milled around them tentatively, unsure of what to say. Pretty much everyone had been crying in some form or another, and they all looked hideous.

The pyramid entrance opened once more, and they all headed back down to return to the real world.

Except for one.

She stood at the top of the staircase, hands clasped over her front again. Watching, only watching, for there was no room for her in the world outside the Palace.

"Futaba," Goro said. "We'll see you again. I swear."

"Yeah, I swear too," said the real Futaba, and held out a fist. "Twinsss fist bump!"

"Oh! Yes," said cognitive Futaba. "Um, here?"

"Bump!" said Futaba. "Great, we're BFFs now."

"BFFs," repeated the cognition. "As in...?"

"As in, we're friends," said Goro. "All of us."

"You won't be alone anymore. Got it? That's a promise from yours truly."

"And from me. We'll be here tomorrow, and right on time."

"Until then, remember us," said Futaba. "Don't forget about me, me ."

"I could never forget," promised the cognitive Futaba, and bid them farewell.

It was late when he got home that night. Boss had left a dozen missed calls on his phone, and when Goro heard a sigh as he entered the house, he wondered what the man was going to say to him now.

But then again, maybe that wasn't so important.

"Sojiro!" Futaba said, and ran forward while still in her socks. "Sojiro, I'm back and I'm never leaving!"

She threw herself at Boss, who spluttered in shock. "Futaba! Where have you been?"

"I dunno, around and moping, I guess," said Futaba. "Luckily, this nerd happened to come by and drag me out of my funk, and just in the nick of time! We're totally best friends now."

"Are you?" Boss cleared his throat. "Good. I didn't want to yell at you anyway."

Goro grinned while unzipping his bag to let Morgana out. "It's been a wild day for all of us," he said. "Hasn't it, Morgana?"

"Awful, just awful," said Morgana. "I never want to cry like that again."

"Aw, Morgana, of course you do!" Futaba grabbed him up and cradled him in her arms. "You're going to sleep with me tonight, buddy!"

"I'm sorry, Futaba," said Goro. "But Morgana is mine."

"Hey! I'm not anyone's! I'm a person, damn it, and that means - "

"God, he's howling again," said Boss. "Are you two telling me you can actually understand him?"

"He's our best friend too," Futaba told him very seriously. "The three of us - we have a connection."

"Yes," said Goro, and smiled. "Yes, we do."

Chapter Text

12. Steal the scientist's heart II

They sailed through the Palace like birds on the northern wind, the Phantom Thieves of Hearts and their twin companions: Futaba and her cognitive half, Alibaba and Medjed.

Among the puzzles and various traps and Shadows lurking, there were image tiles they had to arrange together to be able to understand and move forward. The first depicted a young Isshiki Wakaba shaking hands with a man that could only be a young Shido, a ten-rayed sun in between them like the arrival of a new world on their shores.

"This is it," said Goro. "This must be when they agreed to work together."

"Did she know about Shido?" said Queen.

"Did she care?"  said Panther.

"... I'm not sure," said Futaba.

"Too soon to tell," said her cognitive self.

Goro didn't know about that. "Come," he said, when the beam aligned and knocked down a wall for them to traverse through.

The next set of tiles showed Isshiki kneeling among cardboard boxes in a windowless room.

"She's alone," said Mona.

"Abandoned by Shido," said Fox. "It must have been devastating to her psyche, to have formed this Palace as a result."

"Wait. Look," said Skull, pointing to a corner. "Is that a stuffed animal?"

"No way!" Futaba narrowed her eyes. "It was the old rabbit I used to sleep with. Why would Mom have it with her at work?"

"You don't think - " said Panther, looking hopeful.

Goro pursed his lips. "We'll find out soon enough," he said. "Let's go."

The third and last set of tiles silenced both Futabas.

It depicted the girl in her Palace garb, pulling upon her mother's clothes while Isshiki was bent over her desk, oblivious to the child behind her.

"It's okay," Panther said to them. "Maybe there's more."

Cognitive Futaba shook her head. "This is the last."

"It's what Mom really thinks of me," said Futaba.

"Or her distortion," said Goro.

"Yeah." She smiled. "Sure. Whatever you say."

At the end of it all, all the barriers had been opened to them, and the staircase that led to Isshiki Wakaba's Treasure was opened once more to them.

"How should we send the calling card?" said Queen. "Futaba, could you give it your mother at home?"

"Yeah, no. She never comes home to begin with." Futaba grimaced. "She always stays at this capsule hotel near work anyway."

"So our best bet is delivering it to her workplace," said Goro. "How?"

"No matter its shabbiness, it is still a government facility," said Fox. "We shall have to be crafty indeed."

"Orrr," said Futaba. "I could just call up ahead and tell the secretary I'm gonna deliver some bentos to my mom and her colleagues."

"Oh!" said Panther.

"Good idea, Futaba," Mona said.

"Is it that gonna be that easy?" said Skull. "Seriously?"

"Yeah! And all you guys are gonna be my lackeys," said Futaba. "Especially you, Akechi."

"Me?" said Goro dryly. "What am I meant to do?"

"Make the bentos, of course!" said Futaba. "I'll need thirty of them."

"That's not funny."

"Do I look like I'm making japes, Akechi?" She narrowed her eyes. "Thirty. Bentos. Tomorrow."

"No," said Goro. "I refuse. Absolutely not."

 "This is the worst plan I've ever been a part of," he said, carrying his share of the bentos in a canvas bag the day after. Everyone else was carrying bags as well, save for Futaba who walked into her mother's workplace like she belonged there and waved down the secretary.

"Oh! Hello, Futaba-chan!" the middle-aged woman said. "It's so nice of you to bring bentos for everyone today."

"Yep! Keep it a secret though," Futaba winked. "It's my mom's birthday! She hasn't celebrated in years, so I wanted to make today super special for her!"

"Of course! Please, take everything to the break room on the third floor. We'll all be looking forward to it."

"Actually," said Goro. "Can you tell us where Isshiki-san's office is located? We'd like to deliver something to her personally."

"Did you bring her a present too? How lovely of you and your friends, Futaba-chan! I wish my daughter were so considerate."

"Yeah," said Futaba. "Yep. That's me. Haha."

"Alright, it's room 307."

"Oh my God," Futaba said a moment later as they all crowded in the elevator. "That was ridiculously easy."

"I thought there would be way more security," said Ann.

"Let's not count our blessings yet," said Makoto. "Alright, let's drop these off first. Futaba, is the calling card ready?"

"Yeah," Futaba said, after a moment. "Yeah."

She'd decided to change her mother's heart after all, and Goro could not blame her.

Isshiki Wakaba's door looked as it had in her Palace.

Goro knocked, and then tried the handle.

It was locked.

"Hmm," said Yusuke. "This might prove difficult."

"Not in the least," Goro said, taking out a lockpick from his pocket.

"Nice going!" said Morgana from his vaunted perch in Ann's bag. "Glad you're finally making use of them in the real world too."

"Akechi," said Futaba. "You are straight up breaking into my mother's office. You are the best."

Goro grinned as he worked. "Welcome to the life of a thief."

The door clicked open. Ryuji whistled, and they all crowded inside the small room.

"Well," said Ann, looking around. "This is an office."

"Mom's not here. I - what should we do now?"

"No, it's perfect. We can set up now and leave," Goro said.

"Oh." She swallowed. "Yeah, I didn't actually make one."

His mouth dropped. "What."

"I was kind of hoping to tell her in person," said Futaba. "With you guys?"

"Futaba-chan," said Makoto. "That means your mother will find out we're the Phantom Thieves."

"Oh." The bulb went off. "Oh shit, I didn't think about that."

Again, the worst plan Goro had ever been a part of. And that included the Futaba retrieval plan from a week ago.

"Well, what the hell do we do now!" said Ryuji. "If we get caught now it doesn't matter what Medjed does to us!"

"Ehehehe..." Futaba laced her hands together nervously. "Ann, do you have the cake?"

"Yep!" Ann held up the plastic bag with a large white box she had been holding.

"Is it actually her birthday?" said Yusuke, looking interested.

"No," said Futaba. "No, I lied to get in. Come on, keep up."

"You want to give your mother cake," Goro said. "And then tell her you're going to steal her heart."

"Yeah you're right. It's foolproof."

"What is, Futaba?"

The voice came from none of them in the room, but Isshiki Wakaba standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. She looked like she hadn't gotten sleep in weeks, and she was staring at them with pursed lips and a tight expression.

Ann dropped the cake.

"Oh," said Futaba. "Hi, Mom... what are you doing here?"

"In my own office?" Isshiki-san walked into the room with a scowl. "The greater question is what you're doing here, Futaba. Akechi too," she said with a frown. "Did Sojiro put you up to this?"

"He has nothing to do with this," said Futaba. "We're here for you, Mom."

"Me," said Isshiki-san flatly. "What do you want? Tell me, and then go home. All of you."

"We're the - uh, the Phantom - " Futaba faltered. There was a reason they used written calling cards, Goro thought. Alas.

"Isshiki-san," he said. "We're the Phantom Thieves of Hearts and we've come to change your heart."

"We know everything," said Ann. "About your research into the cognitive world."

"How you've been neglecting Futaba-chan for years," said Makoto.

"Yeah. We even know about that scumbag Shido - "

"Shido?" Isshiki-san hissed. "Futaba! You hacked into my computer, didn't you? I knew there was a reason you've been so quiet the past month - "

"Mom!" said Futaba. "I haven't even been home the past month! I lived with Sojiro and Akechi for like two weeks! How do you not know that about me?" Tears welled in her eyes. "See, this is why we have to do it. I don't want to live like this anymore."

Isshiki-san watched her daughter fight the urge to weep, and said nothing.

Then she looked at Goro. "Akechi. I honestly thought you were better than this. You should have stopped her."

"I'm sorry, Isshiki-san," Goro said. "I'm the last person you should be saying that to."

She snorted. "The Phantom Thieves. Really? Is that the kind of person Sojiro took in?"

"Hey! We save people."

"All our work has been in the name of justice," said Yusuke. "Perhaps you'd understand if you could see."

"Mrr!" said Morgana angrily. "Mrr! Mrr!"

"... you brought a cat into my office," Isshiki said. "Enough. Get out, all of you."

"Mom - "

"Including you, Futaba. Never come to my office again. I'm embarrassed to be associated with you."

Well, that did it.

"Fine," said Futaba. "Fine. I don't care anymore. Let's get out of here."

"Futaba-chan - "

"It's not worth it," she said, and walked out.

"Futaba!" Ann hurried after her, followed by the rest.

Only Goro was left.

"Tell me," Isshiki-san said. "What was the purpose of this stunt? What did you and Futaba think you'd achieve together?"

"Nothing," Goro said. "We just thought we might be able to offer you a change in perspective."

"... I'm sure you thought you did," she said. "Goodbye, Akechi."

"Yes, ma'am."

And he walked away for the second time.

"Eh, what the hell," Ryuji grumbled. "Why's the elevator locked all of a sudden?"

"Let's just take the stairs," Ann said, resigned.

They went back through the hallway. Isshiki-san's door was still open, and she sounded like she was arguing with someone.

"She's always like this," Futaba muttered, not looking through. "Even at home."

"Mm," Goro agreed.

But he slowed his walk nonetheless, and listened in.

" - and what right do you think you have to take me into custody? I want to see some ID first."

"ID's useless where we're going, lady. Come on. Don't make a fuss or we're going to have to make things difficult - "

"Akechi, pick up the pace," Futaba said. "We're leaving - "

Goro put a finger to his lips, and shook his head.

" - I'm not going anywhere with a pair of yakuza thugs. Tell me who your employer is. It was Shido, wasn't it?"

"Oh fuck," Ryuji whispered. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh - "

"Mom?" said Futaba in a small voice, and then there was a scream.

They all scrambled back down the hallway and found Isshiki-san struggling with two men trying to manhandle her.

"Hey! Get off my mom, you assholes!" Futaba screamed, and threw herself forward.

Well, that was a mistake.

One of the men backhanded Futaba and sent herself sprawling. "And who the fuck are these brats supposed to be?" 

"How dare you touch Futaba!" Isshiki-san hissed, and broke herself free and ran to her daughter's side. "Futaba! Are you alright - "

"Mom!" Futaba's cheek was bright red. "I thought they were going to kill you."

"Ladies," said Goro. "I believe it's time to go."

"Yep. Yep. We're going!" Ann and Ryuji grabbed the Isshikis and pulled them up. "See y'all suckers later!"

"Disgusting," Yusuke said, and slammed the door shut behind the thugs.

They took off after the staircase at once, the men in hot pursuit.

"Oh my God, they're coming! What do we do!"

"Up, up!"

"Ryuji, what the hell! The exit is downstairs!"

"It's fine, we'll confuse them!"

"It is so not fine!"

"Why are you guys fighting now?! We could all die here!"

"We're not dying." Goro wrenched the sixth floor staircase door open. "Not here."

"Here, here!" Makoto found an unlocked room and shut it behind them when they were all in. "Blockade it," she ordered. "Chairs, desks, now!"

"Got it!"

The door and only exit was soon jammed to the point of impenetrability, yet when it shook from the force of the men trying to break in, they all had their hearts in their throats.

"This is it," Futaba said. "We're going to die now. I'm so sorry, Mom."

"Stop it," said Isshiki-san. "This has Shido's stench all over it. You had nothing to do with it."

"Really?"

Happy as Goro was to see the Isshikis finally getting along, there was the problem of escaping with their limbs intact. They were on the sixth floor, meaning they'd all fall to their deaths if they jumped. There was one door, which was in the process of being lovingly battered. There was no other way out.

They were well and truly fucked.

"It's been nice knowing you all," said Morgana sadly. "I didn't think we'd go out like this."

"I'll think of something," Goro said. "Just hold on."

"Yes, we mustn't give up hope," said Yusuke, sheet-white. "Surely, if we put all our minds together - "

"I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die - "

"Lady Ann, I need to tell you something."

"I'm sorry, Morgana!" Ann said. "I - I have feelings for Shiho, and you're a cat. It would just never work!"

"For the love of God," barked out Isshiki-san. "Why do you keep talking to that cat as if you can understand it!"

"We can understand him, Mom," Futaba mumbled. "Morgana's not an ordinary cat. He's from the Meta... verse..."

Somewhere in the soundless void outside the Velvet Room, a pin dropped.

"Holy shit," said Ryuji. "That's how we're getting out."

"No!" said Makoto. "You realize what this means, don't you? The Treasure will only manifest once. If we don't take it today - "

"It'll be gone forever," said Yusuke. "We have to take that risk if it means saving our own lives."

"No," said Goro. "We won't." He pulled out his phone. "We'll do both at the same time."

"You're not serious!" said Ann. "Senpai, how do we know if the Treasure's even manifested yet?"

"We don't. But we don't have much of an option, do we?"

"He's right," said Ryuji. "We have to do this."

"Morgana, say something!"

"I - I don't know! I've never tried to take a Treasure right after sending the calling card before! Who knows what could happen?"

"Guys, the door is giving way - "

"Do it," said Futaba.

"What are you all talking about?" Isshiki-san looked flabbergasted. "Treasures? Metaverse? Please don't tell me you're serious!"

"Isshiki-san," Goro said, finger hovering over the Nav App. "Haven't you ever wanted to taste the fruits of your labour?"

"And what could you mean by that?"

"The cognitive world," said Futaba. "And the Metaverse is the one and the same."

"Exactly," said Goro, and pressed the button.

By the time the men broke through, it was if they had been chasing ghosts. There was no one else in sight.

 To say that Isshiki Wakaba was flummoxed was... accurate.

"Palaces," she repeated after they explained it all to her in the last and final safe room of her Palace. "Treasures. Metaverse. Cognitive selves. Shadows. Change of hearts."

"Yes," said Goro. "I hope you understand."

She closed her eyes. "I think I'm starting to. This is all... so much, and all at once."

"It's okay, Mom," said Futaba. "It was hard for me the first time too."

"The first time. To think the Phantom Thieves are mere children..."

"I turned eighteen in June," Goro said.

"We're all sixteen."

"And you know how old I am," Futaba said. "Right?"

"Yes, that is exactly what children would say." Isshiki-san pressed her hands to her brow. "My God. So we're not even in the real world anymore?"

"We've been teleported," Mona said. "Sort of."

Isshiki-san flinched every time he spoke. Mona in bobble-headed form was frightening enough, but the fact that her daughter's friends were now in these absurd getups and talking about Personas... she looked like her head was going to explode, and Goro did not blame her.

"Not to mention," the woman said haggardly. "That... creature out there."

Cognitive Futaba could not enter safe rooms, though she had been delighted to see them, and overwhelmed to see Isshiki-san in person. Even now she hovered outside, waiting with the utmost eagerness for the Pharaoh's change of heart.

"Seriously, Mom? She's a part of me. Or at least the part of me that's part of you."

"I... am aware, Futaba," Isshiki-san said. "But it's hard to see two of you like this. Especially knowing that the other one is my responsibility - "

"Hey," said Futaba. "So am I."

"I'm sorry, Isshiki-san," Goro said. "But we've come to take your heart, and we need to do it soon."

"Of course." She sat up straight in her seat. "Tell me. What will happen to me after?"

"You'll become a better person," said Panther. "I think."

"You... think." Her doubt was clear. "I'm not a good person now?"

None of them said anything.

"I see," Isshiki-san said. "I wonder what you've told them about me, Futaba."

In response, Futaba just curled into herself in her chair and looked down.

"Hey," said Queen. "Don't be mad at her. She really cares about you."

"She's been trying to get your attention for a long time," said Skull. "And no offense, but it's kind of messed up how your work is more important than her - "

"My work is why I've been able to give Futaba a good life," said Isshiki-san coldly. "So please, stop speculating on my motivations when you know nothing about them."

"Yes," said Fox. "I understand completely."

Isshiki-san smiled at him. "At least one of you sees sense."

"But," he stressed. "I also believe you lack perspective. In every aspect of one's life there needs to be balance, or one threatens to topple over into catastrophe. The mind becomes distorted and loses sight of the ultimate goal. What is your ultimate goal, Isshiki-san?"

"My goal," she said, "is to discover as much about the cognitive world as much as I can, and release my research to inform the public.

"And," she added, "to take care of my daughter."

"Thanks, Mom," said Futaba, but she wasn't smiling.

"Well, let's do it." Isshiki-san got up. "Let me see this monster you've been saying I've been all along. Change my heart, and show me."

As they left the safe room to venture up to the Treasure, cognitive Futaba floating around her twin and Isshiki-san with a look of pure joy on her face while the latter studiously ignored her, a sinking feeling emerged from the pit of Goro's mind.

Had they explained what the changes of heart did properly to Isshiki-san? She was taking this far too lightly. By the end of the day she would be a different person altogether.

Surely the thugs had left by now. Surely, if they went back to the real world, they could just go home and try again tomorrow...

No. They were here, and they had to do this now.

As the door to the Treasure opened to them in silence, and the Thieves and company poured in, Goro asked the darkest depths of his thoughts: Am I doing the right thing here?

And Robin Hood answered: No. But least you are finally asking the right questions.

Mona's fear had been for nothing. The Treasure had manifested, and the Palace ruler was here.

The Pharaoh and Isshiki Wakaba stared at each other from the bleak desert podium that was the home of her Treasure and the last fight the Thieves would fight in this Palace.

"This thing," said Isshiki-san. "Is supposed to be me?"

The Pharaoh said, "So even you have fallen for the propaganda of mere children."

"Fallen? Hardly," said Isshiki-san. "I merely wish to see where all of this leads in the end."

The Pharaoh shook her head. "It ends in obliteration. Of this world, and you and I, and everything we have ever worked to achieve together."

"The Palace will collapse when we take your Treasure," said Futaba. "And..."

"I become a different person," said Isshiki-san, her face still. "I understand."

Did she?

"Skull and Panther, you're on protection duty," Goro said. "Mona, Fox, Queen, with me."

"Roger that, Crow."

"On it!"

"Let us proceed."

"Let's go!"

"Let's end this."

"Come on, Mom." Futaba took Isshiki-san's hand. "It's going to get ugly now. Let's stand back and watch."

"I'm sure you've been curious," drawled Goro. "About how the Phantom Thieves really change people's hearts. Well, let us show you!"

The Pharaoh became the Sphinx, and warred, and fell.

No, no, no. No, it was never that easy.

"Damn it!" said Futaba said. "She keeps dive bombing them, and they don't know when she's coming next - "

Panther had already been tagged in, and now a fatigued Queen watched from the sidelines with the Isshikis and the cognitive Futaba. "It's no good. We just don't have the ability to predict her movements."

"I want to fight," snarled Skull. "Even Crow's getting battered out there!"

"Then you'll be in the same position he is!" Queen snapped. "Firepower doesn't mean anything right now, Skull!"

It's terrible, isn't it?

Futaba sucked in her breath. Who just said that?

How your friends suffer to fight for you, and you do not offer even alms. How can you lift your head with pride, small child?

"I'm not a child," she gritted out.

"Futaba," said her mother. "Is something wrong?"

Even your mother, who has given her whole life to shelter you - what have you done to repay her?

"Stop it," Futaba said. "Stop it. I'm not a burden. I'm not like that."

So how shall you prove it? How shall you show the world how worthy you are?

"I'm going to..." She bent over and clutched her head.

"Futaba! Oh my God, what's the matter?"

"I think she's going through an Awakening! Futaba-chan, fight through it!"

"You can do it, Futaba! Just hold on!"

"Futaba, please, tell me what's wrong - "

Embrace that fear that has made you weak and let it make you whole, whispered the green-dark tendrils in Futaba's mind, in her soul. Be afraid no longer, for you are no longer alone.

Isshiki Futaba screamed, and from her terror Oracle woke.

"Come on, Necronomicon, show me what you're working with!"

 The Pharaoh fell, and so did Isshiki Wakaba.

"Mom!" said Oracle, shaking her prone form. "Akechi, what's wrong with her?"

Goro frowned. "We just defeated her Shadow, and she's been here in the Metaverse with us. It's possible that's what affected her - "

"She's not going to die, is she?" Even through her opaque goggles he imagined the lenses misting.

"No. Not if we take her Treasure and leave the Palace right after."

"About that," said Fox. "I beg your pardon, Crow, but I must intercede."

Isshiki-san groaned and opened her eyes. "Mom," Oracle said. "Hey, hey. Are you okay? Look at me."

"Futaba?" she squinted. "Is that you? Why..." She grabbed her head. "It feels like my whole body's about to split apart."

"The Palace is in flux," the cognitive Futaba mumbled. "You must decide what to do with her, and soon."

She turned her gaze to the Pharaoh, who knelt in silence beneath the Treasure, as if a prisoner to her execution.

"Goro," Fox said. "Please. Listen to me."

"I'm listening," said Goro.

"I - " Fox swallowed. "In all good conscience, I do not believe we can take Isshiki-san's heart."

"What?" said Skull. "That's what we've been doing, man."

"Yusuke, what do you mean?" said Queen warily.

"Isshiki-san is not like our other targets." Fox lowered his gaze. "It is true her mind has been distorted, but she is not incapable of reasoning or understanding. Rather than take her heart, I believe we could - "

"Give her a second chance," Goro said.

"Yes."

"You realize this means we can never do this again," Mona said. "Defeating a Palace ruler is a one-time deal. Her Treasure won't manifest again."

"We don't know that," Panther said. "We thought we had to wait a day after the calling card to fight too, after all."

"That I'm not so sure about," Goro said. "It could be exclusive to Isshiki-san's Palace, since it's existed for so long."

"How long?" gasped Isshiki-san, Oracle holding her up. "How long has this Palace lived inside me?"

"Twelve years," said the cognitive Futaba.

"My God." The woman closed her eyes. "Nearly as long as you've been alive, Futaba. I'm so sorry."

"I forgive you, Mom," Oracle whispered. "I don't care anymore, I just want you to get better..."

Beneath them, the podium rumbled. "Okay, well, whatever we do we need to choose, fast," Panther said. "I don't think the Palace can handle both its Shadow and its real self in the same place for too long."

Goro closed his eyes. "Isshiki-san," he said. "If we take your Treasure and change your heart, we can't predict what'll happen next. For Futaba's sake you might choose to give up attempting revenge on Shido. You might also decide not to further your research in the cognitive world any longer. All we Thieves can do is remove the distortion within your heart. We can't promise you a happy ending."

"No," said Oracle. "No, I want Mom to get better, but I don't want her to give up everything else in her life because of me."

"Like I said," said Goro. "We don't know. All we do know is that she'll never be the same again."

"So what do we do, then?" Skull said. "Are we gonna go back and act like this never happened?"

"No. What we do is let Isshiki-san decide what to do next."

"What if she decides not to change at all?" said Panther. "What'll happen to Futaba then?"

"We have to take that risk," said Fox.

"But Yusuke! What if - "

"We'll help too," said Queen. "Futaba's one of us now."

"And the Phantom Thieves stick together," said Mona.

"... fine," grumbled Skull. "I'll stay out of this."

"I'm... not sure what to do either," Panther said. "Queen?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But if Isshiki-san is willing, and Futaba doesn't want the change anymore, it doesn't seem right to take her Treasure."

"You all know my opinion," said Fox.

"Mona?" said Goro.

"This could be dangerous," said the cat. "But... if everyone's in agreement, then - "

"Mom," said Oracle. "What do you think?"

"I don't know." Isshiki-san stumbled as she got up. "But... you all seem to know better what'll happen to me than I do."

"Please, Mom," said Oracle. "Give me a chance. I know it's been hard on you. I know I've been hard on you."

"No, Futaba, you haven't - "

"I just want us to be a family again. Even if it's messy and ugly sometimes because we bicker, and you're working when I want to be with you and I don't listen to you - " Oracle took her goggles off and let the tears come. "But damn it, if I force you to be a good person against your will, then will it even mean anything in the end? I want you to say I love you and cheesy stuff like that, and I really, really want you to mean it when you do! It just... doesn't seem fair otherwise."

"No," said Goro. "It's not.

"Isshiki-san," he said. "The Phantom Thieves will not be changing your heart today." He smiled. "I'm afraid that from now on on, you will have to do so yourself."

"I understand," said Isshiki Wakaba. "And I accept the responsibility completely, and utterly."

"Thanks, Mom," said Futaba, and hugged her.

Then there were only two other people left to talk to.

 She said, "That poor girl. Do you know how much she loves you?"

"I know," whispered the Pharaoh. "I've always known."

Wakaba laughed. "When did we lose sight of what mattered most in our lives?"

"The research still matters. We can't live for our daughters alone."

"No," said Wakaba. "But in this new world, we can live with them, can't we?"

They turned their gazes to the Thieves and twin Futabas, huddling together for one last goodbye before bidding the Palace farewell.

"They're just children," Wakaba said. "And yet, today they saved not only my life but Futaba's."

"Children doing the works of adults," said the Pharaoh. "What do you think happened in their lives to make them like this?"

"I doubt we'll never know. And yet - " Wakaba smiled. "Looking at them gives me hope. The new generation is something else, aren't they?"

"As long as we weak adults don't abdicate our responsibilities entirely onto them," said the Pharaoh. "Will you?"

"No," Wakaba said. "I won't."

"I wonder what will happen to the Palace now," the cognitive Futaba said. "And me."

"If the distortion in Isshiki-san's heart goes away," said Mona. "Then so might you. I'm sorry, Futaba."

"What?" said Panther. "But that's so unfair. You deserve to live too."

"Only my Mother's Shadow is true," said the cognition. "Everything else in this Palace is not. Including me. I am..."

A figment of a figment of the imagination.

"You're a friend," Goro said. "To all of us."

"Yeah," said Skull. "You are."

"We'll miss you, Futaba," Queen said.

"Things will get better from now on," said Panther. "We promise."

"You've been superb company," said Fox.

"Thank you for everything," said Mona.

Oracle stepped forward. "You know," she said. "For all about the Palace being a horrible distorted version of how my mom really feels about everything... for all that," she repeated with a smile. "You're a really nice kid, you know that?"

"That's true," said Panther. "You've been super helpful to us, Futaba!"

"The real Futaba's way nastier," said Skull. "Hey!"

"Buzz off, Skull, I am not!"

"She's loved you all this time," said Mona. "Even if it wasn't clear to her at first... some part of her always knew."

"Yes," said the cognitive Futaba, sniffling. "Yes, I think you're right."

"Futaba," said Goro. "We'll remember you."

 Mother and daughter embraced, and the Phantom Thieves of Hearts left the Palace behind them.

 "Look," said Panther. "Is it me or did the Palace just get smaller?"

 When they returned to the real world, they were back in the room they'd hid in, and the men were gone.

Isshiki-san's office had been trashed. "They broke everything," she said in a dull voice as she looked around. "My backups are gone. My computer. My work - "

"Mom," said Futaba. "It's okay."

"I'm afraid it's not, Futaba." Isshiki-san took her glasses off, blinking furiously to keep the tears away. "It's all gone now. Even the files I had against Shido. I suppose all that debate about changing my heart was pointless."

"No," said Goro. "It wasn't."

"Yeah," said Futaba. "Mom, it's going to be fine. I told you."

"You two want to tell us something?" said Ryuji. "Because the look you get when you're scheming something together is creepy as hell."

"They're bonding," said Ann.

"No, they're right," said Makoto. "Isshiki-san, Alibaba should still have all your files."

"Alibaba? What in the world is that?"

"Oh, you know," said Futaba. "Just my hacker name and all." She pushed her glasses up and grinned. "Aren't you glad now that I'm a snoop, Mom?"

"Don't forget about Medjed," said Morgana. "We still have that problem."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll take care of it later - "

Isshiki-san jolted. "The cat can talk? Here too?"

"Of course I can talk! What kind of response is that!"

"Isshiki-san can understand you now," said Goro. "Interesting."

"You still owe me sushi from last week, Goro! It's Jiro or bust!"

"Oooh," said Ann. "I'd love sushi."

"Hell yeah, me too!"

"We should go out and celebrate."

"A feast would be proper."

"Sushi! Sushi! Sushi!"

"Have you all forgotten. I made bentos."

"Oh yeah," said Futaba. "There should still be some left in the breakroom, right?"

Then:

"Sushi! Sushi! Sushi!"

They all went out for sushi.

 The oldest of them was eighteen, and at present he was slumped to the side in his seat asleep with the cat on his lap as the train rattled on its way to Yongen, Futaba snoring against him with drool on her bottom lip.

So young. But Wakaba had been young too, once.

The others had taken off at their respective stations and told her to have a good night. Only hours ago they had been dressed in fantastical costumes with spirits looming over their backs, fighting the great flying beast that had worn Wakaba's face and tormented Futaba for over a decade.

She still didn't know what to make of it all yet. If she had just had an extraordinary hallucination, or if any of it had been real.

Well. If she could understand Morgana from now on, then that probably said it on its own, didn't it?

Futaba's glasses were slipping down her face. Wakaba pushed them back up, then shook them gently awake. "We're here," she said. "Come on, you two."

"Mmfwha?" Futaba said, while beside her the boy Akechi rubbed at his face as if it was a worn out rag. "Are we home, mom?"

"Yes," said Wakaba. "We are."

Yongen never changes, she thought in fondness as they left the station. Here was the grocery store, there was the bathhouse, here was Leblanc and there was her heart.

Ah. A movie theatre was opening up soon. Interesting.

They shuffled inside the house and took their shoes off without looking. Once again Futaba walked onto the floor without slippers.

"Futaba," said Wakaba without thinking. "Would you please put on some - "

And stopped.

"Yeah, Mom?"

"Slippers," said Akechi. "She wants you to put on your slippers." God, but he looked exhausted, holding a passed-out Morgana in his arms.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

"... it's alright," said Wakaba. "Somehow, I don't think Sojiro minds."

"You think?" said Futaba.

"Yes. Don't worry about it."

"Okay, then," said Futaba with a smile, and belly flopped onto the couch. "Sojiroooo! We're here!"

"I'm coming!" they heard from upstairs. "Futaba, you don't have to be so loud all the time - Wakaba! You're here?" Sojiro said incredulously. "I haven't been able to get in touch with you for a month! Where have you been!"

"You'd never believe me even if I told you, Sojiro," Wakaba said, and smiled.

Chapter Text

13. Prove your justice to society III

"What an interesting choice you have made in this game, trickster."

Goro's smile was equally smug. "Is rehabilitation a game now?"

"Watch your words, inmate!"

"Do not dismiss the tools we have laid out before you so readily," said Justine, "if you wish to keep your own rehabilitation on the path to success."

"Isn't that so, girls?" said Igor, his wide gap of a smile disturbing as ever.

"You have your ways," said Goro. "I have mine."

"May your judgment prove you well in your journey, then," intoned the hook-nosed man, and once more Goro fell into the recesses of deep sleep, and was no more.

"Ready? Set. Go!"

Ann blew her whistle, and the three of them took off. Even with a former leg injury Ryuji shot off like a bullet, and with her own background in fitness Makoto pursued him with all the ferocity and competitiveness of someone who hadn't been in second place to anyone since she was seven.

Meanwhile, until half a year ago it had been a luxury for Goro to nibble on snacks and have free time to do anything for himself; he had been too busy studying, working, helping Ogawa-sensei with the younger children at the institution.

Since then he had become Crow, and an increased cash flow from part-time jobs and selling loot from Palaces and Mementos led to a food allowance the old Goro would have considered kingly, allowing him to improve his physical health considerably. He no longer struggled to keep up.

Unfortunately, he was still in last place.

"That was pretty good," Ryuji told him, when it was over and they were taking a water break. "You might even catch up to me one day."

"When is that?" gritted out Goro, trying to keep his breath until control and failing. "To me it seems you've only gotten quicker and I keep standing still."

"Don't be so hard on yourself." Makoto wiped her sweating brow with a quick dry towel. "Both of us have been training since we were children. That you've improved so much in such a short time is admirable enough on its own."

"Yeah! And unlike someone, you're actually running."

"Hey!" said Ann. "Keeping time is hard work."

"I'm sure it is, Ann," Ryuji muttered. "I'm sure it is."

"What are you doing for summer vacation, Akechi-kun?"

It was a sunny afternoon, and once again Goro was on the school rooftop weeding Okumura's garden for her while she prepared the stakes and seeds for another small harvest. For this she repaid him with half her produce of tomatoes and carrots and beans, a generous bounty considering Goro did maybe half an hour of real work, then sat around with her and had tea out of a thermos and conbini sandwiches.

But like most of the people he found himself spending time with, she seemed lonely in her own way. She sat in the last row in their classroom, always went off to eat by herself at lunch, and had such a thimbleful of a voice that, when called upon by the teacher her answers could hardly be heard above the scratching of graphite and squeaking erasers of everyone else in the room.

"I suppose I'll be spending more time with friends," said Goro, after a thought's pause. "We promised to go to the beach together soon."

"Really? That sounds wonderful!"

He smiled. "Yes. It's a celebration party for one of our friends. Congratulating her for doing a good job lately."

As in, welcoming Futaba to the Phantom Thieves properly. Goro hadn't seen her in a few days, not that it worried him. She'd promised to get the dirt on the wannabe Medjed for them. Quoth the girl herself: "I am gonna drag those fuckers' names in the mud and see how they like it!"

"I wish I could be there," Okumura blurted out, then widened her eyes at the confession. "I mean - not that I'm envious of your friend. Oh, or perhaps I am."

She looked so deflated and put-upon it made Goro chuckle. "I don't think anyone would mind if you did come, Okumura-san," he pointed out. True, it was a Thief party, but they'd be in public anyway, and thus shouldn't be blabbing about business while building sandcastles and poking sticks at crabs.

"I couldn't." She darted her gaze down at her seedlings, her gloved hands caked with fine dirt. "I'm afraid my vacation has been booked fully already."

"Going somewhere exotic, then?" Goro teased. "Switzerland? Paris? Berlin?"

"Oh please, Akechi-kun!" Ever since he'd found out Okumura was the only child and heir of the CEO of Okumura Foods himself, and therefore doing very well for herself, it never failed to make Goro question why she went to a school as recently scandal-ridden as Shujin and spent all her time digging up roots on her lonesome.

"That's not very funny," Okumura added, a harassed twinge of colour on her face. "But you're closer than you think. Have you ever heard of bridal training?"

Goro shook his head.

"I mentioned my fiance before," she admitted. "Father has planned us to get married sometime next year, and they’re eager to see me fit into my new role as quickly as possible. I’m being sent to a finishing school for the month to prepare for my new life."

"A finishing school," Goro said. "For brides."

"Yes." 

"It..." How to say this. "Seems archaic, no? Forgive me, Okumura-san, but we are in the 21st century. Arranged matches are so..."

"It is my father's desire," said she. "How could I say no?"

How indeed. "Why wouldn't he train you to take over his company after him instead?" Goro said. "I'm sorry if that's presumptuous to say, but why would a son-in-law be better than his own daughter and heir?"

Okumura sucked in her lower lip. "My fiance is older than I," she said. "Smarter too, and wiser - "

"You have the fifth-highest grade in our year. I'm not sure intelligence is an issue."

"I'm not sure the board of directors would be impressed if I told them that, Akechi-kun," said Okumura. "Besides, my father and fiance get along better than I do. Not that we don't get along! It's just..."

She gave Goro an intense look and said suddenly, "You're lucky."

"How?"

"Because you're a man. No one will ever marry you off - "

She cut herself off, and busied herself with her seeds again with plumes of red blush as bright as feathers on both sides of her cheeks.

"... I'm sure I will never be invited to an omiai or matchmaking party of any sort," Goro said eventually. "But it's probably due to other factors. Such a lack of dowry, or any parental lineage to speak of."

"Of course," she said. "I beg your pardon."

"No need," he said, and smiled. "Nevertheless, you're right. The world is cruel to women."

"I am a daughter of Okumura though," said she. "My life is more fortunate than anyone else I know. I can never forget that."

"So you should be grateful for what you have," Goro said. "Right?"

"Right," Okumura said, but her voice had gone limp.

Afterward, the tomatoes tasted sour. Too acidic.

"I'm going to take a leave of absence from work for a few months," said Isshiki Wakaba that evening in Leblanc.

"That seems wise," Goro agreed from across the counter. "Considering Shido's thugs tried to ruin your life's work and kidnap you."

She sipped her Blue Mountain coffee with a pinched expression. Hopefully not from the taste. "They never said a thing to me about being from Shido. That's the problem. If only I had more decisive proof."

"What about your files on him?"

"Goodness. Did Futaba tell you everything?"

"I needed to know as much as I could before the Thieves went into your Palace." It was half an hour before closing and no one else was in the cafe, ergo the candor. Futaba was off solving the Medjed problem, and Morgana probably lying on a bed of cat treats near her, the traitor.

"I'm aware of that." She studied him, and Goro pretended obliviousness as he rinsed some dishes in the sink. "Are you enjoying reading up on my life's work, then?" A deal was a deal, after all, and with her mother's permission Futaba had sent him files and files upon worth of research papers and speculation.

"I'm... parsing through it," Goro said. "To the best of my ability."

"Don't be afraid to admit if you're lost," said Isshiki-san. "I still can't wrap my head entirely around you Thieves, nor why you have access to the Metaverse at all."

"A strange man in a dream gave me the gift," said Goro, and when she looked only puzzled at that, decided she didn't know about the Velvet Room at all. None of the documents he had gotten through suggested any previous first-hand experience on Isshiki-san's part. It seemed her work was theoretical alone, and for that he supposed they were all better for it.

(The Pharaoh hadn't mentioned the presence of another Metaverse user either. Goro wondered if he would meet this mysterious Warden someday; whether he'd be ready for a fight when they did.)

"Well. Regarding my files," said Isshiki-san. "If you've seen through them, though you know I have mostly only anecdotes from people who don't want to divulge their identities, or obscure newspaper clippings that no one seems interested in following up, transaction receipts that don't have Shido's name on them - nothing that could damn him. He covers his finger prints, I'll give him that."

Goro's hands stilled on the plate he was holding. "Forgive me," he said, setting it down carefully, "but can I ask how you first came to know each other?"

"Fair enough." Isshiki-san took her glasses off, rubbed at the corner of her eyes without messing up her eyeliner. "I was in the middle of my PhD at Waseda when he approached me. Where he heard about me then I don't know, since my research on the cognitive world was hardly more than a published paper or two. But he offered me a job, and funding, and faced with the prospect of struggling for tenure in some dead-end academic job, going back home to Hokkaido to run the family inn, or a government facility with my own team and everything I could dream of, nothing but the last choice ever occurred to me." She added, wryly: "I found out I was having Futaba soon after, and had no intention of relying on her father after she was born. So there was that to worry about too."

"I... see," Goro said.

"Does that not satisfy your curiosity?"

"No, it's fine." He swallowed. "I just... how did Shido come across to you then? Did he seem trustworthy? Or..."

"I'm afraid I was too excited at the thought of a politician encouraging experimental research and scientific advances to ever truly consider his motive," said Isshiki-san. "Was he a schemer then? I can't say. Perhaps. I was... blinded, in my own way. I wanted so badly to succeed." She looked down at her empty cup. "I suppose that's why I stayed, even when the funding was cut. Even with my team reduced to only me, and having to work in that miserable windowless box of an office - I thought it was the only chance I would ever get to fulfill my dreams. So I sat put, and broke Futaba's heart as a result."

"You didn't," said Goro quickly. "She's happy just to have you around."

"I know," said Isshiki-san. "But she didn't choose me as a mother. I chose her as a daughter, and it seems I haven't fulfilled my end of the bargain for a long time ago. At least she has you and Sojiro. Believe me, I'm grateful for that."

"I wouldn't go so far - "

"Take the damn compliment already," she snapped. "You're a good kid, Akechi. If Futaba's going to be influenced by anyone, I'm glad it's you."

"Oh." Heat creeped up the nape of his neck. "Futaba's the one usually berating me for not keeping up with the times. I'm not..." Goro closed his eyes. "Hip. As the kids would say."

"Oh God." Isshiki-san snorted. "Yes, you're a veritable old soul."

Her phone buzzed then, and when she glanced down at it she smiled. "I should head home for dinner."

"Take some curry with you."

"How could I? Sojiro'll go bankrupt if the two of you keep giving me free food every time I come by."

"We always have leftovers anyway," he said, already taking out two containers from the fridge and wrapping them in a plastic bag for her. "Morgana and I can only eat so much before we get sick of it ourselves."

"... Morgana. You feed the cat curry," Isshki-san said flatly.

"You'd be surprised what he can eat. Or how high his food bill is."

"I'll find out soon enough." She put a bill down for the coffee and got up. "One more thing, Akechi-kun."

"Yes?"

"You and the Phantom Thieves," Isshiki-san said. "You'll be continuing your work, won't you?"

"... yes." Goro put his hands down by his side. "I hope that's not a bother to you."

"Me? Never," she said. "But you're only teenagers after all, and..." Her expression dimmed. "Children shouldn't have to do this kind of thing. No matter the justification."

"In a better world, yes." Goro smiled. "But when the law fails, who's left to do the job?"

She laughed. "You sound like that boy detective who's on TV all the time."

"You mean Kurusu?" Even Isshiki-san knew about him?

"He says the same things you do," she said. "How he never would have gotten involved with the law if the police back home had done their jobs properly, but now he has to pick up the slack." She tilted her head. "You're his age, right? Do you know about that incident that supposedly made him what he is now?"

"No, ma'am," said Goro. "I'm afraid I don't."

Goro: Are you free tomorrow?
Kurusu: ?
Goro: There's a cafe I want to go to.
Kurusu: And you don't want your bevy of other friends to go along with you because...?
Goro: I'm asking you.
Goro: If you're busy I don't mind.
Kurusu: No, I'm game.
Kurusu: I just thought you were still mad at me.
Goro: ?
Goro: Didn't we make up last time?
Kurusu: Huh.
Kurusu: I guess we did.
Kurusu: Are you bringing the cat?
Goro: No.
Goro: Morgana's been wanting his own space lately.
Kurusu: Great.
Kurusu: I'll be there then.
Kurusu: It'll be our first date.
Goro: If you insist.
Kurusu: ??????????
Kurusu: Did someone replace you with a changeling??
Kurusu: How are you not chewing my head off right now???
Goro: I'm trying not to be as much of a stick in the mud lately.
Goro: Also, I want to tell you about that situation regarding my friend.
Kurusu: Ooooh yeah I remember.
Kurusu: Plus Kitagawa.
Kurusu: You have to tell me how you know him.
Goro: Do I?
Goro: (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
Kurusu: Did you just use kaomoji on me??????
Kurusu: ?????????????????
Kurusu: My brain is leaking rn.
Goro: Have a good night, Kurusu.
Kurusu: Bye?????
Kurusu: (-_-)ゞ゛

"Morgana. Morgana." Goro shook the cat awake.

"Huh? Huh? Wha?" Morgana jolted up from his place in bed. It was three-thirty in the morning, the room pitch-dark and silent but for their breathing. "What is it?"

"You were talking in your sleep." Goro stroked his fur. "It didn't sound good."

"Oh. Yeah." The cat sagged under his touch. "It's complicated."

"You know you can tell me," he murmured.

Morgana scooted away. "Nah. Don't feel like it."

"Don't be like that - "

"How about this," the cat said from the foot of Goro's bed. "I'll tell you about my dreams when you tell me about you and Shido." When Goro stiffened, he added: "See? I can keep secrets too."

"It's... complicated," Goro said eventually; lamely.

"Everything is," Morgana grumbled. "Just... let me sort it out on my own, okay? I'll tell you if it's really important." Slowly, his blue eyes began to creep shut. "You should too."

"Alright," Goro said. But by the time he managed it, his friend had already fallen asleep.

"You were wrong, you know."

From across their small table in the cafe, Kurusu blinked his slate-grey eyes at Goro, fresh order of coffee and pancakes smothered in a drizzle of macadamia nuts and honey and cream ready for consumption in front of him, and said, "Oh... kay."

Goro couldn't help but grin. "I didn't have to set myself on fire for anything. It turned out I just had to give my friend and her mother the opportunity to clear the air together, and they resolved it."

"All on their own...?" Kurusu looked doubtful. "Sounds like wishful thinking, no offense. People don't flip a switch overnight, no matter how much we want it."

"Please," said Goro. "I know that people can't change so easily. God knows I've had a bitter time of it myself. But - " He took a bite of his own pancakes, a sweet and simple taste of strawberries and fresh cream, and savoured the taste. " - if someone wants to, and you have the opportunity to give it to them, then why not?"

"I guess," said Kurusu. "What are you going to do if it gets bad again though?"

Goro shrugged. "We'll be there for her if it happens."

"We?"

"My friends and I."

"A support system. That's nice." The boy drank his coffee. "This friend of yours wouldn't have to be Isshiki, would it?"

Goro nearly stabbed his own tongue with his fork. "What?"

"The little ginger you were trying to drag out of Kosei with Kitagawa almost two weeks ago." Kurusu smirked at Goro's expression. "Admit it, that was a funny scene to walk into."

"Really? Because that was the most humiliating moment of my life," Goro glowered.

"It's a good thing you two made up then. I would have hated to call school security on you."

"Narcing on me to the authorities. Disgraceful."

"... what did you just say to me right now."

"Nothing." Goro was as calm as the Buddha. "I said nothing."

"Narc," Kurusu repeated. "You just called me of all people a narc."

"I highly recommend you drop this subject, Kurusu."

"Oh, now you're cold again!" The boy laughed. "Fine, I get it. Want to tell me about Kitagawa instead?"

"He's a friend too."

"And Madarame's last pupil before the old bastard turned himself in." An unexpected shot of venom injected itself into Kurusu's voice at the mention. "Man would I have liked to see Sae-san tear him a new one in court. The new prosecutor's a total blowhard in comparison."

Oh, right. "I don't suppose you know anything new about the case," Goro said.

"I wish! No loose lips on this ship, unfortunately." Kurusu cut into his pancakes. "Don't worry though, seriously. He pissed off a lot of rich people who want revenge. Was selling off copies of the Sayuri for ten million yen a pop - "

"Ten million!" Goro nearly spat out his drink. "What in God's name was he doing with all the money then!"

"Hell if I know." Kurusu turned serious. "Look. Don't go blabbing this out to just anyone, but..." He ran fingers through his nest of hair and sighed. "It's like with Kaneshiro. Both of their objectives seemed to have been about getting - and laundering huge amounts of money from people who had the incentive to keep their own mouths shut. But somehow everything we've looked into - their assets, their bank accounts, anything they're legally linked to - just don't match up with what was coming in. Where that money went, and to who is like a blank page."

"Do you think the cases are related?"

"A famous artist and a yakuza boss? No way in hell," said Kurusu. "Until the Phantom Thieves got to them both one after the other." He frowned. "Do they know something Sae-san and I don't?"

At which point Goro smiled a very sweet smile and said, "The Thieves seem to just go for people they find unjust. Similarities between criminals are probably much more likely than we think just because of the nature of their work."

"... yeah," said Kurusu. "I suppose there's only a few types of people who'd go this far to hurt others."

Goro sipped his coffee in relief. "Right."

"But," the boy added. "If their cases were related... that'd be worth digging into, wouldn't it?"

The look he was giving Goro set goosebumps on his skin. "I'm scared to even ask," he mumbled against a forkful of pancakes.

"Hey. You want to help Kitagawa, don't you?"

Goro swallowed wrong, coughed against his palm. "What?"

"If someone had done to me what Madarame did to him," said Kurusu. "I'd want to take him for all he was worth."

"Kitagawa's not..." Goro gulped down his coffee to recover. "He's not like that. For better or for worse, he's not the kind to think about revenge."

"It's not revenge."

Kurusu's voice was flat, and it took Goro a moment to realize the boy wasn't joking. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's not." Kurusu stared at him. "I want to look into Madarame's dealings and find out what makes him tick so freaks like him can never hurt anyone again. Revenge would be... blowing out his kneecaps or gutting him in his cell or something. What we're doing is - "

"Detective work," Goro said. "No, I understand. And... I apologize. For assuming your reason was so base."

Kurusu smiled again, and this time it was as real as one Goro had ever seen from him. "You're not the first to say that," he said, gazing down at his plate.

"You... aren't popular with everyone, then?"

Kurusu snorted. "Akechi, half the public thinks I'm a delinquent who needs to be put in my place and the cops want to decimate me on sight. Sae-san's the only one who ever gave me any respect from the moment I met her. Only a few months ago I was a dumbass kid with a folder full of anecdotes and accusations about some local shitheels the cops wouldn't touch because they were too important or their friends or BS like that. Sae-san's the only one who sat down with me and listened to what I had to say, and I appreciate the hell out of her for it."

Hm. That did sound like a Nijima. One wondered if Makoto would affirm this opinion of her sister so readily. 

"So that's why you work with her," said Goro. "Even though she's a prosecutor."

"Yep." Kurusu shrugged. "It's just me otherwise. And even with my reputation, a lot of places don't want to let a nosy kid in to poke around for clues and bug people." He grinned, though it was slower to come than usual. "You think Shirogane ever had this problem? She did come from a whole family of detectives, if I remember."

"A pedigree pays," Goro said, remembering Okumura's words. "No matter one's personal situation.

"Thank you for your thoughts, Kurusu-kun," he added.

"What for?" The boy looked at him in surprise. "And why are you using an honourific with me again?"

"Let me talk," said Goro. "What I wanted to say was... I think I understand you more now." He smiled. "Before, I thought you were... I'm not sure, some strange baby anarchist who had wandered into my life by way of Leblanc and just enjoyed making me uncomfortable."

"Wow," Kurusu muttered. "I'm so flattered."

"You're smiling though."

"That's my annoyed smile. Keep going."

"Maybe," Goro said,"you do have a sense of justice after all, and I've misread you this whole time."

"... thanks?" Kurusu looked dumbfounded. "At least I'm not subhuman in your eyes anymore?"

"You never were. Now tell me what you've been dying to say all this time."

"Oh." The boy narrowed his eyes. "Well, I was going to suggest we put our heads together and try to look at the Madarame and Kaneshiro cases to see if there's a link, but now I'm just offended."

"No, you're not."

"I am. Make it up to me."

Goro couldn't find a reason not to play along. "What do you want, then?"

"Go on a real date with me," said Kurusu, and made Goro spew coffee all over him.

(... he told him he'd think about it.)

"Congratulations on your full recovery, Mishima-kun!"

Ann blew on a party horn while Suzui clapped her hands and Ryuji and Goro unfurled the ridiculous YOU DID IT! banner they'd made the day before.

They were in the Mishima family's backyard, the party boy himself sitting in a camp chair while his mother cooked vegetables and seafood and meat for them on a grill. "Thanks, guys," he said with a small smile on his face.

"No problem," said Ann. "We're all rooting for you!"

"Yeah, dude," Ryuji said. "You're the real deal."

"... you've been strong." Suzui smiled.

Mishima gulped. "Thanks for bringing Morgana too, senpai."

"It was my pleasure," Goro said. "I know how fond you are of him."

"Mrr," said Morgana mournfully from his place on Mishima's lap. "Goro, I want some of those grilled scallops later."

"He's so chatty," Suzui said. "It must be fun to have a cat that talks to you all the time."

Ryuji sniggered. "Yeah, he never shuts up. Hey!" When Ann elbowed him.

“Ryuji! Don’t be an ass.”

“What! I'm just teasing.”

Ordinarily Morgana would have just barked back a snappy comment, but he just put his head down and let Mishima pet him without further complaint. He could just be pretending to be the cat he proclaimed he wasn't…. but Goro wasn't so sure.

“Want something to drink?” he asked.

“Ooh, milk tea!”

“1UP for me.”

“Second Maid is always nice.”

“... water is fine."

“Really.” Goro tilted his head. “You don't want to live a little? You don't have to go to physical therapy anymore.”

Mishima shook his head. “I'm fine.”

His choice. Goro went over to the cooler and fished several drinks out of the ice before stopping to watch Mishima’s mother cooking their food for them.

He went over. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Eh? For what?” She looked surprised he was even talking to her.

“Making food for us,” Goro said. “We can do it ourselves if you like.”

“No, no. Please, let me.” The woman smiled. “Yuuki hasn't brought home friends in years. So I'm just happy to see people around him. Especially since…”

Her voice dropped. “So many people came to the hospital to wish us well. But you four are the only ones who’ve kept on visiting, even when it's been inconvenient for you, or when Yuuki was in a bad mood. You can't imagine how grateful I am.”

“Oh.” Goro was at a loss. He saw Mishima at therapy once a month for maybe a couple of hours. The others, maybe more. “No, it's… don't worry about us. We're not the ones who need help.”

"You're so kind." She turned the grilled kabocha and corn and onions with her tongs. "I hope you and Yuuki can be friends for a long time."

She didn't seem to know Goro would be graduating the next year. "I will," he said, the half-lie passing through his throat easily.

He returned to the group and passed everyone their drinks. Only Mishima was missing, Morgana sprawled out in his chair instead.

"He said he had to go to the bathroom," Ann explained, when Goro inquired where the boy had gone. "Mmm, can you smell the meat already?"

"It's ready now!" Mishima's mother called out. "Come, please have some."

"Oh, wow!" said Morgana when Goro came back to him with a small plate of grilled shrimp and squid and oysters. "Thanks, Goro." He ate with gusto, and everyone else began to tuck in.

Mishima wasn't in the bathroom still, surely?

"Oh, Yuuki's like that sometimes," his mother said, heaping a full plate for her son. "He gets moody nowadays, and it can't be helped. It's no one's fault, of course - " Laughing uneasily. "But he's not the same as before."

No. How could he be?

"Let me take that plate for you," Goro said, and the middle-aged woman glimmered with joy.

He entered the first floor of the Mishima house through the living room patio. "Mishima?" he called out, looking around at all the ordinary detail around him; the cramped kitchen with pots and pans hanging from a rack, household sauces and condiments crowding the wooden counters, the outdated gas stove; the living room with its leather couch and lace doily over the piano, backed up against one wall; the ten-gallon aquarium bubbling away with a shoal of tiny silvery fish and growing green marimo.

And the quiet sniffling coming from within the first-floor toilet.

Goro knocked. "Mishima? Is something wrong?"

"N - no! I'm busy. Please, go away."

"Your mother made lunch for all of us," Goro said. "Don't you want to try it? She told me the grilled corn onigiri is your favourite."

The door creaked open slightly.

"I'm not hungry," mumbled a bloodshot Mishima from through the crack.

"Come on," Goro said companionably. "Tell me what's wrong."

"You wou - wouldn't get it."

"Try me."

For a moment, nothing but heavy breathing. Then:

"... wish you guys hadn't come."

Had he heard that correctly? Goro said, "Are we bothering you?"

"Just because you feel sorry for me," Mishima said from across the wooden door. "You don't have to pretend like we're friends or anything. Mom wouldn't have even known if you didn't show up today. Now she's going to..."

His voice died out, and Goro thought he might understand.

"Can I open the door?"

Mishima said nothing, but didn't protest when Goro eased the door open, and there he was, sitting on the covered toilet seat in a white polo shirt and baggy shorts, his legs pale and skinny, his socks drooping down his ankles.

He didn't have bandages hanging off his face or fingers anymore. But his expression, now that there was no one to fool, was one of exhaustion. His hair was dull and limp and black, his eyes a brown void; his lips, compulsively bitten.

"No one at school ever wanted to hang out with me before," Mishima said. "I don't see why it has to change just because I jumped off a roof once or twice."

Good grief. "If Suzui heard you say that - "

"Suzui didn't have to learn how to walk again."

"Well, Suzui cares," said Goro. "So does Takamaki, and Sakamoto - "

"And you?" Mishima stared at the floor. "Senpai. I appreciate what you did for me. I know you're the Phantom Thieves. That part's really obvious."

"Oh." Goro's mouth was dry.

"But all this..." The boy looked pained. "Trying to hang out with me and make me feel better... you don't have to. I wouldn't blame you if you stopped."

Ah.

"Do you think we're fake for it?" Goro asked.

"Huh?"

"You can be honest." He smiled, aware of how ridiculous it was he was still holding a plate of lukewarm food while half-way in a bathroom with a boy on the verge of a breakdown. "If you think Suzui and the others and I are fake for continuing to visit you when none of us even knew you or tried to be friendly with you beforehand."

Mishima shrugged.

"I don't even know what fake is," the boy said, scratching his nose. "Just that no one would have visited the old Mishima every month like a doctor's checkup. That's what it feels like." He cracked a weak smile. "You're all checking up on me to make sure I recover and don't go back to... whatever mood I was in when I jumped. And... maybe you do care about me, but not the way friends care about each other. Like I'm just an itch you need to scratch to make yourselves feel better."

"What did Kamoshida do to you?" Goro said, unable to stop himself.

"It was supposed to be Suzui that day," Mishima said, seemingly oblivious to his tactlessness. "I was supposed to get her for him."

"Oh."

"Whatever." Mishima closed his eyes. "You don't have to put on a face like that. Like I was..." He swallowed. "Kamoshida never touched me. Not like the girls. I think that's supposed to make me feel better. Weird how it still makes my skin burn. Why doesn't the feeling ever go away?"

And like that, Goro noticed how short his nails were, bitten nearly to the bone.

"... I don't know." He put the plate of food aside on a nearby table, came back with gathered thoughts. "When I was a child, there was a teacher who hated seeing me write with my left hand. Whenever she caught me she would take a ruler and hit me on the fingers for every word I put down. Sometimes I'd have stripes on my hands for weeks on end."

"Oh yeah," said Mishima. "I forgot you're from one of those places." He smiled a little. "I guess my fucked-up stories don't even compare, then."

"I'm not here to brag," Goro said. "There's nothing entertaining about being afraid to hold a pencil properly until I was eight."

"Why didn't you ever switch hands?"

"My body wouldn't let me." He pressed his lips tight. "Maybe it was pride, or just paralysis. Instead, I just refused to write most of the time. The teachers thought I was so stupid I should drop out of elementary school."

"Oh." Mishima gnawed on a nail so short it was digging into the raw skin beneath. "But you have the highest grades in school now. What changed?"

"I got used to the feeling," Goro said. "When it wouldn't go away, I pretended it was a badge of honour. Like I was a bandit prince, and I had gotten struck by a villain's sword to protect my friends. The more it hurt, the braver I was, and the more people I saved."

"I'm not brave though," Mishima said. "And I don't want the feeling to last." He looked up at Goro, and his gaze was wide and tired and empty. "Am I allowed to want it to go away?"

"Of course," said Goro.

"Then I wish it'd go away now," said the boy. "So I could go back to being the old me, and everyone would stop feeling sorry for me without feeling guilty for it. I hate that the most, when they start crying and I have to say something or they won't stop."

"Do you feel like crying?" Goro asked, and Mishima said:

"Yeah. But I won't. Not until you leave. No offense."

Which was fair as any answer he was ever going to get from anyone.

"Alright," said Goro. "I won't bother you any longer, then."

Mishima nodded, and went back to rubbing his eyes the moment Goro shut the door again.

Futaba: Aaaand it's done!
Futaba: Please, hold the applause until the end of the show.
Goro: Thank you, Futaba.
Futaba: WHAT DID I JUST SAY
Makoto: We appreciate your hard work.
Yusuke: Yes, none of the other Thieves could do what you do.
Futaba: Aww! That's very nice of you, Inari.
Yusuke: My pleasure.
Ann: Does this mean what I think it means then?
Futaba: Yeyeye!
Futaba: BEACH PARTY!!
Futaba: You better bring the goods Akechi!
Goro: Why am I always left with the shopping?
Ryuji: Well you do get all our money dude.
Makoto: If it's a bother I can help you, Goro.
Goro: It's fine.
Goro: There's a grocery store right by the house anyway.
Futaba: See? He just likes to complain for attention.
Goro: Can we move on?
Futaba: FINE
Futaba: Medjed won't be a problem anymore.
Futaba: And the Phantom Thieves are gonna be bigger than ever.
Goro: ?
Makoto: What did you do, Futaba?
Ann: I'm scared to even ask...
Futaba: Nothing!
Futaba: Just letting the world know who's the new cool kid in town.
Yusuke: Oh dear...

Are the Phantom Thieves just? Y/N

66.7% YES

WHO THE HELL IS ORACLE??

Is that the first name we've actually gotten from the Thieves? I thought they were some nebulous group like Anonymous but nevermind lol.

RIP Medjed

well that was fun for like 10 minutes

This is a step down from taking down the mob but w/e I'll take it.

Medjed called them out and threatened to dox them. What do you think the Thieves should have done?

I didn't say they were wrong to expose Medjed dumbass I'm saying whatever they were doing before is way more interesting than trying to protect their own rep.

Who do you guys think the Phantom Thieves are?

PS please don't comment if you think they're just some high schoolers because they took down a teacher from Shujin first. These guys have connections.

Yeah they're all inside men in a whole bunch of industries imo. The people they got to fess up wouldn't be bullied into it by mere kids.

Plus they have a hacker now??

Makes me wonder if they're recruiting.

HIRING: blackmailer, entry position, 5+ years experience only

As if anyone on this stupid forum is qualified enough to pick up the Thieves' trash at the end of the day.

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did y'all hear what kurusu said on tv the other day

yeah tell me more about mr thirst. please, i'm dying for more

"ooh phantom thieves take me now!!" that's what the stupid fuck sounds like

Crackpot theory: Kurusu IS one of the Phantom Thieves. The leader even.

He already has a public persona dumbass. And why would he have another crime-fighting alter ego when the Third Eye is stupid enough?

Take Kurusu to his thread please. I don't want to hear about him anymore.

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idk guys i think kurusu is cute :( he tries so hard to be taken seriously!

at least he has one thing in common with shirogane then

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So... can we speculate on the Thieves' next target yet or are we just going to have another shadowban thread?

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You get shadowbanned! And you get shadowbanned! WE ALL GET SHADOWBANNED!!!

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It has to be Okumura Foods. Their CEO is on some Jeff Bezos shit.

Yeah a businessman next would be a nice way to diversify their portfolio.

Because they're applying to the PSIA or something??

Let the Phantom Thieves hunt in peace!

They should go after Shido. That guy's had rumours crawling around him for years.

Yeah, and none of it has ever stuck or even gone to court so what? You going to smear everyone who doesn't have the same politics as you now?

Do I seriously have to explain what a corrupt judicial system is on a forum about people who bring corruption to light...

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I hope they go after Okumura Foods next.

I worked for them for 10 years.

Never missed a day, never late, always made above quota.

Then I hurt my spine in an accident and they fired me within a month.

Fuck you what does a wheelchair have to do with being a salesman anyway???

They screwed me over with my pension and benefits too.

10 years of hard work and now I'm on disability and no one will hire me.

Okumura Kunikazu can go to hell.

I hope the Phantom Thieves eat him alive.

"Let's see... onigiri, check! Meatballs, check! Tamagoyaki, check! Wow, you brought a container just for fruit? I didn't know you had it in you, Akechi!"

"Futaba..." said Goro, as she rifled through the bentos he had brought while everyone else was setting up umbrellas and beach towels around them. "Do we have to do this now?"

"I'm doing a quality assurance check," the girl said, fishing out a whole plump strawberry and popping it into her mouth. "Sojiro sesh your food wush - "

"No."

Futaba swallowed. "Apparently your cooking sucked ass in the beginning. So I'm testing it now. Wouldn't want everyone to get food poisoning, you know?"

"How nice of you to take the hit for us, then," said Makoto, umbrella under her arm as she walked past.

"Urk. I didn't think about that."

"Why don't you defend our food then?" Goro said. "And keep an eye on Morgana, please."

"Of course," Futaba said. The cat was currently hiding under one of their umbrellas, black fur and fleshy paws not a stellar combination with bright sun and heat-absorbing sand.

"Hey," she added, in a quieter voice. "Is... umm, Morgana okay lately? He seems a bit down."

"Bad dreams, mostly."

"Or he's finally gotten sick of you."

"Maybe you can find out what's gotten into him," Goro said, ignoring the comment.

"True. Morgana does love the ladies, after all." She pushed her glasses up on her nose. "Alright. Mission start!"

Futaba safely occupied, Goro observed the other Thieves in motion: industrious Makoto, adjusting the angle of each umbrella to maximize both shade and sightline of the shore; Ann laying out the towels in colour-coordinated fashion while minimizing the potential for sand to bulge in through the gaps; Yusuke, wearing a white hoodie over his swim shorts to protect his porcelain-pale skin from the sun while angling for a view of the beach through his fingers with the contemplative expression Goro had become so fond of; and Ryuji, fishing through the bucket of old toys he had brought from home to build sandcastles.

There had been river banks in Fuefuki, but no such thing as beaches. And Goro's toes were very warm in the sand, and wriggling.

Actually, it was a crab. Never mind.

"This was a good idea," Makoto said when Goro approached her. "It's been years since I've done something like this."

"Too busy with student council meetings?" He smiled.

"Yes. Among other things." She looked down. "Like having no one to accompany me."

Well, this was going great already. "Me either," said Goro. "It's nice, having friends to go with everywhere."

Makoto laughed.

"Something funny?"

"Not at all. It's just - the first time we met, I could never have predicted we'd be friends one day. Much less everything we've been involved in."

"Getting kidnapped does bring people together," Goro said.

"Please don't remind me," she muttered. Then her expression changed. "Does it still bother you? I'd hope by now there are no lingering injuries..."

"Not at all. It might be hard to believe, but I can take a few hits."

"Well. As long as you don't make a habit of it." She adjusted her headband. "Sandcastles, then? I'd like to see your work."

"You make it sound like a competition," Goro said, as if the prospect wasn't already itching in his fingers, ticking away in his mind.

"Oh," said Makoto, gaze glittering. "But isn't it?"

 "You guys are taking this way too seriously!" Ann protested in defeat half an hour later, as nearly all of the sand building toys were commandeered by Goro and Makoto for their respective forts.

"Yeah, we're dying of boredom over here!" Futaba called out from under an umbrella while chomping on an onigiri, Morgana curled up at her side.

Ryuji had already given up on his castle and stomped it in a pique of frustration when his towers kept collapsing. Ann's was... decent for what she was attempting, which wasn't much. Yusuke was building something secretive a fair distance from everyone else and refused to be interrupted lest he break out of the zone.

And Goro and Makoto?

"My," said she. "I didn't expect something so traditional out of you, Goro."

What was a castle but a castle at the end of the day? "You as well," Goro said, tongue between his teeth. "You never struck me as the modernist type."

"There's a hidden side to everyone."

He stole a quick look and smiled. "I'm afraid your hidden side looks awfully geometrical at the moment and little else."

"Geometrical! If that's how you see it." From the light tone of her laugh he'd dropped a point in her estimation.

No matter. Goro was going to win this.

Ten minutes later time was called, and after giving herself sole judging rights, Futaba sashayed over to Goro's castle and tsked with her hands on her hips. "Oh, Akechi. You gave what you thought the people wanted, but not what they really needed deep inside. Points for technical precision, but you have no imagination. Retire, bitch."

"What?" Goro said, Ryuji sniggering besides a wanting-to-laugh-but-not-lest-she-hurt-his-feelings Ann. "Futaba, that's ridiculous. Your opinion is flawed."

"NO TAKE BACKS!" bellowed Futaba, throwing out her hands as she moved over. "Next, Makoto! Your castle has flair. It's unique. The take is spicy."

"Thank you," Makoto said, obviously pleased despite the inanity of the commentary.

"But! It looks like a bunch of boxes glued together, and cubism is so last century. I'm falling asleep already. Inari! You're up."

"Oh," said Makoto.

"Now imagine this," said Goro. "But every day. Even at Leblanc I have no peace."

"I'm... so sorry."

They followed the others to Yusuke's creation, which wasn't a castle at all but some kind of mermaid creature. Everything was clearly molded by Yusuke's hands alone, and even half-done as it was, the detail was... impressive. How he he carved the shell pattern on her fish half with only his fingers, Goro wondered.

"I'm not done," he was saying. "So if you please, Futaba, I'd like to continue working on this."

"You heard him," said Goro as he came up. "Futaba, just eat your onigiri."

"Boo! You take his side on everything," said Futaba. "Fine, Inari's disqualified. Ryuji, Ann, you vote."

"Huh? Huh? Huh?" said Ann.

"Yeah, leave us out of this."

"Ask Morgana," said Goro, then frowned when he couldn't find the cat anywhere. He turned his head and sighed. He was still under the umbrella in the same spot he'd been for an hour. "Still? Futaba, did you get anything from him?"

"Nope." The girl splayed out her hands in a "who knows?" gesture. "He did grumble about you keeping secrets though. As if that's a big surprise."

"Maybe I could talk to him?" Ann said.

"You're the one who broke his heart, dude."

"Shut up, Ryuji! Don't act like it was ever going to happen."

"I'm not sure pestering him is going to put him in a better mood," said Makoto. "We should just be patient. Right, Yusuke?"

"Absolutely," said Yusuke, then lifted his head for the first time and looked at them. "I beg your pardon, what were we talking about?"

Kurusu: Hey.
Kurusu: Got some people willing to talk about Madarame and Kitagawa.
Goro: ?
Goro: Did you mean Kaneshiro?
Kurusu: My bad.
Kurusu: Greasy fingers.
Kurusu: Tell me when you're free.
Goro: Sunday would be good.
Kurusu: Sounds great.
Goro: I'm surprised you haven't suggested talking to Kitagawa.
Kurusu: Would you mind if I did?
Goro: ?
Kurusu: He's your friend after all.
Goro: I'm hardly his guardian.
Goro: I'll ask if he's interested.
Kurusu: That would actually be a lot of help, thanks.
Goro: ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ
Kurusu: Goro please.
Kurusu: I don't know how to handle this brand new adorable you.
Goro: See you on Sunday.
Kurusu: See you.
Kurusu: (*´∀`*) ... ?
Goro: (*´∀`*)

Chapter Text

14. Prove your justice to society IV

"Nakanohara-san? May we sit down?"

The man sitting on his own in the Shibuya diner booth looked up in surprise when Goro spoke. "I'm sorry, but I'm waiting for someone else - "

"Yo," said Kurusu, coming up beside Goro at that exact moment. "I brought a friend. Hope you don't mind."

"No, it's fine." Nakanohara looked relieved to see him, and Goro and Kurusu slid into the seat across. The man fidgeted as the waitress came by for orders; Goro ordered a Fruitea, Kurusu plain hot coffee. Something about Nakanohara seemed familiar to Goro, but he couldn't place it...

"Akechi here's my assistant," Kurusu told Nakanohara while Goro coughed. "We just want to ask you a few questions about Madarame if that's okay."

"Sure," Nakanohara said. "But he's already in prison, so why do you need me for this? I'm even a witness for his trial."

"The old man's in holding. He hasn't been sentenced yet. And there's still some stuff about his background that bugs me."

"I see. You want to build the case against him too."

"... it's more for my own curiosity," said Kurusu, which seemed a self-defeating statement to Goro, but Nakanohara didn't seem annoyed by it. Instead, he slumped his shoulders and sighed into his drink.

"I suppose it's fine, then," he mumbled. "Honestly, there's still... so much I resent from the old days. Things I haven't been able to talk about with anyone else. If I can get this off my chest, then - " He lifted his head, and his gaze was determined. "What do you want to know?"

Their orders came. Goro sipped at his Fruitea through a straw and watched as Kurusu explained his suspicions.

Nakanohara's expression was dark at the end of it all. "All Madarame ever cared about was money and his own self-preservation," he said. "I could see it, even when I was one of his students. I wasn't as young as the others when I started apprenticing for him. He was invested in us painting every day like clockwork, and if he deemed a work good enough he'd take it away. It was... perverse. We all became obsessed with him taking our paintings away as a sign of his approval. If you had a lot left over by the end of the week, you weren't good enough, and you didn't get to eat dinner." He looked down. "I always had paintings left over."

"What did he do with the paintings he took from you?" Goro asked. "Did he claim them under his own name or sell them outright?"

Nakanohara gave him a quick glance as if startled to hear him speak. "Probably both," he said in a low voice. "It had been going on even before I joined him, and I heard it only got worse when I left."

Abruptly, Goro remembered Yusuke's anxiety over his artist's block the first time they met, and all he could taste was bile. How lightly he'd taken it then, how cavalier he'd been.

Asshole.

"How long were you with Madarame?" Kurusu said.

"Five years. From thirteen to nineteen. I... realized what he was truly like when I had difficulty getting into university, and he wouldn't lift a finger to help me, so I couldn't go anywhere." Nakanohara rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Then it all came together. I realized he had no intention of letting my succeed on my own if he couldn't profit from it. He wanted me and the others ignorant and sheltered so all we'd do was paint. We were told not to care about material things or our living environment or anything outside the atelier. I just..." He swallowed. "I snapped. I wanted revenge. To hurt him like hurt us. So one night, when he left the atelier I followed him. I was going to corner him in some alley and beat him to death with my own hands if I could."

"Christ, Nakanohara," said Kurusu, sounding impressed. "Go on."

"He got picked up in a car. I couldn't follow him." Nakanohara sounded resigned. "But I remembered the license plate, and the next time around I followed him in a taxi."

"How'd you get the money?"

"I stole it," Nakanohara said. When neither of them said anything, he added: "We were hungry all the time. I had to. When we were out people always praised Madarame for taking us in. No one would have believed he was starving us."

"You do what you have to survive," Goro said. "And in this instance, it paid off. Where did the car lead him to?"

"A mansion." Nakanohara closed his eyes. "A mansion in Shibuya that must have cost... God, I don't even know how many paintings of ours he sold to get it. I almost threw up in the taxi, and the driver kicked me out. So I... broke into the place. Climbed in over the fence and got into the house through an open window. He had a woman in the house with him. She had on this necklace that would bought rice for all of us for a year, and I... wanted to tear it off her neck and throw it into the trash. I was so angry."

"Did you?" said Kurusu, not smiling any longer.

Nakanohara shook his head. "I lost my nerve when I saw her," he admitted. "I still wanted to hurt Madarame, but if he could afford a place like that then he could do a lot worse to me. I didn't hurt him. Instead, I just stole what I could, then ran away. Selling those things... allowed me a chance for me to stay on my feet while I tried to be a normal human again. I was able to find a job too, aa local bureaucrat. It's not much, but..." His voice drifted off.

"What is it?" said Goro.

"I left everyone behind," said Nakanohara. "I just up and left one day, and I never told anyone where I was going. They just thought I was going to pick up supplies. I still think about it. Whether that was the right thing to do, or the most cowardly action of my life - "

"Nakanohara-san," Goro said. "You were just trying to save yourself."

"Yeah, he's right." Kurusu leaned forward with his arms on the table. "You're not responsible for someone else's actions. Madarame's a piece of shit abuser who deserves whatever he'll get for hurting so many people. You couldn't have stopped him then."

"I was the oldest out of everyone there," said Nakanohara. "Doesn't that count for something?"

"You'd been living with him since you were thirteen," Goro said. "It's not easy to unwire yourself from that kind of thinking, even when you think you should know better."

"No. Instead, I just hurt other people in the process of trying to get over it. If Kurusu-san hadn't knocked me into my senses - "

"Hey," said Kurusu. "Don't mention it. It was a favour to your ex, anyhow."

"Oh... yes, I suppose." Nakanohara reached to his side and brought up his bag, taking out a thick portfolio full of documents. "Here. Take this."

"And this is...?" 

"I didn't sell everything I stole from Madarame," the man said. "I thought I could keep these for blackmail or to leak to the media one day, but I could never muster the courage to do so. I was too scared. You might actually make use of these papers, so..."

"Is there a reason you didn't go to the cops?" said Kurusu.

"For the same reason as you, Kurusu-san," Nakanohara said. "They'd never believe me."

To that Kurusu only flipped the portfolio open, letting Goro take a peek in the process. Some of the documents appeared to be contracts, things he couldn't easily skim through, but others appeared to be Madarame's personal thoughts. Had he typed out a diary?

No. The artist had been recording something.

August 19, 2009, one of the entries began. Sent over another two million yen to a company that'll disappear by tomorrow. How long must I continue this charade? To put myself in debt to a serpent like this...

Another: December 26, 2009. One million yen.

"Excuse me," said Goro, snatching the portfolio right out of Kurusu's view and flipping through the pages furiously. "I need to - "

March 3, 2010. The serpent's hunger is as great as his greed. Three million yen. I have been outmatched. I must continue to feed him.

June 27, 2010. Only five hundred thousand this time. My home is my sole abode. A sanctuary away from the vulgarities of the world.

October 16, 2010. He wants more now. He is planning something. Yet it is not enough. Even my own hands can barely keep up.

November 30, 2010. Three million yen. At this point I will be forced to sell the house and then I will have lost truly everything.

February 13, 2011. I told the serpent's thug I could spare only three hundred thousand this time. He did not believe me, but is it not the truth? Natsuhiko has become useless, Fumie has forgotten all the basics, Tomoyo cannot even lift her brush now without crying, and even Kazuya flounders now. They have all lost the gift. Only Yusuke is still decent, but his work is still immature. How long will these accursed children continue to fail me?

Goro stopped reading.

"Hey," said Kurusu. "Is something wrong?"

He sounded hesitant. "Everything's fine," Goro said, but his voice came out strained, and when he touched his face it was hot to the touch.

"He's abhorrent," said Nakanohara. "I hope you understand how I still harbour hatred for him even now."

"I... understand completely." Goro's tongue was swollen in his mouth. "Excuse me a moment."

Kurusu got out of his seat to let Goro slip past, who went to the bathroom only to splash cold water on his face.

Since when had he become so emotional? What would the Velvet Twins think if they saw him like this?

... it wasn't their opinion that mattered. Goro patted his face dry with his hands and left the bathroom when he was ready, only to nearly miss Nakanohara on the way out.

"Wait, Nakanohara-san!" he called out, almost breaking into a run in the crowded cafe. The man was already down the stairs to Central Street when Goro caught up.

"I gave all my files to Kurusu-san," the man said. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, no - " Goro's chest hurt. "I just wanted to ask - you lived with Kitagawa Yusuke at Madarame's, didn't you?"

"Yusuke? How - " Nakanohara startled. "You know him?"

Goro smiled. "We're friends."

"How is he doing? Did he finally manage to leave Sensei? Tell me - "

"Easy," said Kurusu, coming out of the restaurant. "Why not give Akechi here your business card and let Kitagawa contact you himself?"

"Of course." Nakanohara fished inside his bag, gave one to Goro with trembling hands.

"How is our favourite Kosei genius doing, Akechi?" said Kurusu. "You might as well save Nakanohara the heart attack and let him know Kitagawa's alright."

"He is," Goro said. "Yusuke has nothing to do with Madarame anymore. He's living his good life now, and I'll let him know you were thinking about him."

"Good." Nakanohara sagged against the wall. "He was there before I came, and after I left. I always wondered what would happen to him. My God. Thank you for letting me know."

He had to leave after that, and Kurusu and Goro walked down Central Street back to Shibuya Station. The street had a calmer air now - possibly due to the absence of Kaneshiro's thugs, but for how long would it last? Nature abhorred a vacuum, after all.

"Can I ask how you know Nakanohara, Kurusu?" Goro said along the way.

"Believe it or not," said Kurusu. "His ex hired me to get him off her back. He was a complete shithead only a few months ago."

Goro frowned. The man they'd just spoken to didn't seem capable of that. "And how did you do that?"

"Tough love. He turned over a new leaf and I found out about his link to Madarame." Kurusu shrugged. "Just as well, since Sae-san got assigned to the old man's case right after."

"I see."

"What about you, though."

"Me?" Goro blinked.

"When you were looking through the files. I thought you were going to burst a blood vessel."

He looked away. "It was nothing."

"Nah. I get it," said Kurusu. "You hate him, don't you?"

They were at the station. Really, Goro should go, or at least feign a good-natured I don't hate anyone or nonsense like that.

"Yes," he said. "Prison's too good for someone like him."

Kurusu smiled. "Glad we can finally agree on something."

"But it's where he belongs." Goro felt Nakanohara's business card in his back pocket. What would Yusuke think if he heard him say that? "And ideally, where he'll be for the rest of his life."

"We'll get to the bottom of it together," said Kurusu. "See ya later, Akechi."

Goro: I have a question.
Goro: Did anyone by the name of Nakanohara come up in one of the Phansite requests?
Suzui: ?
Suzui: Let me check.
Suzui: Yes.
Suzui: A woman put up a request a few months ago regarding a stalker named Nakanohara Natsuhiko.
Suzui: I was going to send it to you but only a few days later she called it off.
Suzui: Said someone else had already resolved it, so I shouldn't bother.
Suzui: Did something happen?
Goro: No, it's fine.
Goro: Thank you.

Goro put his phone away as the train for Yongen came in.

What had Kurusu meant by tough love, exactly?

"In other news, disturbing allegations have emerged against the latest victim of the so-called 'rampage incidents'. Only a few days ago, music executive Asakura Shiro was arrested after allegedly attacking several people in a host club in Shinjuku, many of whom were later sent to the hospital for moderate to severe injuries. The accused's lawyer has said his client had had a sudden mental lapse and therefore could not be held responsible for his actions. Since his statement, however, half a dozen young women who used to work under Asakura's label have accused the man of sexually harassing them while they were in his employ, in some cases even threatening them with violence if they didn't - "

Click.

"Kid, you're going to miss school. Come on. Don't watch something so heavy in the morning."

"Yes, Boss."

"Kawakami-sensei? You called for us?"

"Nijima! Akechi! So glad to see you. Come right this way."

And so, Goro and Makoto followed.

The teacher looked flustered as she led them to the end of the hallway on the second floor. "Listen," she said, crossing her arms. "So you know how investigators are coming to Shujin for questioning? Well, the day some of the faculty are being called in is the same as the start of the Hawaii trip. You two are the most responsible students we have in this entire school, and you're both third years. So..."

"You want us to chaperone," Goro said.

"That's right," said Kawakami, looking at Makoto only for some reason. "That won't be a problem, will it? Your grades are high enough. I don't think missing a week of school will do anything against that."

"Not at all," said Makoto. "In fact, it should look good on our CVs, no?"

"We'd be glad to," said Goro, who had never been abroad before.

"Great!" said Kawakami. "Because some of the second years aren't so, erm, disciplined as you two..."

"So I'm not going to see any of you for a whole week?" said Morgana, as the Thieves lounged about in Leblanc' attic that afternoon.

"Hey!" said Futaba, clicking away on her laptop. "You'll have me, Morgana. I'm not going anywhere either. My trip's not for another two weeks!"

"Yeah, but..." The cat put his head down on the table. "What are we going to do until then?"

"You could search for our next target," said Ann. "What does the Phansite say?"

"Well..." Futaba opened up a new tab and started reading. "Oh jeez. It's all Okumura all day, every day. What did this guy do to so many people?"

"Okumura?" said Makoto, glancing at Goro. "You don't mean..."

"It's the one and the same." Goro stretched. "My classmate Okumura Haru's accompanying us as a chaperone on the Hawaii trip. And the number one target on the Phansite is the CEO of Okumura Foods - her father."

"That's grisly," said Ryuji. "She's the one with all the tomatoes, right? That stuff saved our asses in Futaba's mom's Palace like ten times. Now we gotta kick her dad's ass to repay her?"

"No one said that, Ryuji." Goro crossed his arms. "It might be helpful if you did some research though, Futaba. See if it's worth looking into."

"Got it!"

"What about me?" said Morgana. "I can help."

"Sitting still would help enormously," said Yusuke, lifting his head from his sketchbook. "In the same pose as before, if you would."

"Ugh. Never mind." Morgana jumped off the table and padded off. "I'm going to walk around."

"Stay safe!" Ann called out as he disappeared below the stairs.

"So... he's been doing that a lot lately," said Ryuji. "Anyone figure out why yet? Futaba?"

"Nope. In fact - " Futaba glared at Goro over her glasses. "The bigger question right now is why you're on a nerd hunt with Mr Fancy Pants Kurusu of all people! What is your game here, Akechi?"

"I'd like to know that as well," said Makoto. "Is there a reason you're digging into our former targets with him? What do you think you'll find?"

"I'm not sure," said Goro. "But the questions he's asking are the ones that have been on my mind as well. If we can get to the bottom of their actions - "

"You sure it's that complicated?" Ryuji's brows furrowed together. "We know why Madarame and Kaneshiro did what they did. Their freaking Shadows told us."

"It's not that simple." Goro bit his lip. "For example, I think Madarame was being blackmailed."

The graphite of Yusuke's drawing pencil stopped scratching sound.

"In the documents Nakanohara gave us," Goro said, aware of the boy listening in, "Madarame wrote down whenever he had to send to money to someone. He was clearly unhappy about having to do so. Furthermore, the mansion he lived in wasn't under his own name. Just a shell company behind a shell company, and so on. It's been impossible to find any real names in the papers so far."

"For you, maybe," Futaba muttered. "Tell your pretty boy to hit me over with those docs and I'll see what I can fix up."

"Really," said Goro. "Because just now - "

"It's for Inari, you twerp!" she scowled. "Right? Don't you wanna figure out what Madarame's deal was?"

"I," said Yusuke, staring at his sketchbook. "I... am not sure. Excuse me a moment."

And he too, got up and left the attic.

The Thieves dispersed in awkwardness soon after, and Goro went to find Yusuke, who hadn't gotten very far. He was idling around the ramen bar, which meant perhaps he was hungry.

"I'm sorry," Goro said. "That was tactless of me - "

"Goro," said the other boy. "Tell me. Is it such a wise thing to pursue this lead with Kurusu?"

"You don't trust him?"

Yusuke frowned. "I remembered earlier. When we retrieved Futaba from Kosei - Morgana spoke in his presence. That was foolish."

"The only way that would be a problem is if he knew about the Metaverse."

Yusuke cast his gaze down. "At this point I don't believe it inappropriate to speculate. You know him better than anyone here. Has he ever given you cause for suspicion?"

At this point, Goro could lie.

Goro could say a lot of things, and Yusuke largely believe him for the sake of keeping their peace. They had a respectable, admirable relationship. Goro wasn't going to pretend he didn't have feelings for the boy, even if he had no intention of backing them up. They were what they were. He'd had feelings a dozen times in his life and never felt the need to go further than the silence of sweet suppression innate in him.

But then, what was the point of being a confidant if he wasn't going to tell anyone anything? Why even bother?

"He knows Morgana can talk," Goro said, and told Yusuke about the day at the TV station months ago.

Yusuke closed his eyes then. "You realize then, that the only other Metaverse user we know of excluding ourselves is that elusive Warden figure. What should we do if Kurusu turns out to be him?"

"All we know is that Kurusu can understand Morgana. So can Isshiki-san. That means he's been inside the Metaverse once at most. We can't assume he's the Warden on that basis alone."

"The one behind the rampage incidents. The newest case is especially revolting." Yusuke sighed. "Be careful, Goro. I won't presume to tell you how to spend your time, but the next time you're investigating with him you might wish to bring someone along. Makoto, perhaps."

Goro could imagine those two getting along like a house on fire. "I'll take it into consideration."

A small smile. "Good."

"What about you, then?" he said. "Do you want to talk to Nakanohara?"

"... I haven't decided yet." Yusuke looked away. "Forgive me, but things are still... knowing Sensei might have been blackmailed is putting strange thoughts in my head. Thoughts I am trying to fight off." He smiled. "You understand, surely."

"It still doesn't justify what he did to you," Goro said. "Don't forget that."

"I know, Goro," said Yusuke. "But my heart aches nonetheless. How do you make something like that go away?"

Kurusu: There's a journalist in Shinjuku who has the details on Kaneshiro.
Kurusu: Goes by the name of Ohya. Real willing to tell you anything if you get her drunk enough.
Kurusu: The drinks at Crossroads are her favourite.
Goro: Good grief Kurusu. Please learn some phrasing.
Kurusu: My bad.
Kurusu: Free next Saturday?
Goro: I'd love to, but no.
Goro: I'm chaperoning a second year trip to Hawaii this coming week and won't be available.
Kurusu: Wow.
Kurusu: Akechi Goro, living the high life.
Goro: Doesn't Kosei have a trip going on at the same time?
Kurusu: Yep.
Kurusu: Los Angeles isn't my style though.
Kurusu: I prefer Leblanc.
Goro: You haven't been to Leblanc in a month.
Kurusu: Been busy!
Kurusu: Want to go see Ohya with me when you're back, then?
Goro: It's your case. Don't hold yourself up on my account.
Kurusu: I'm just doing this on the side.
Kurusu: Believe me, it's no fun without you.
Goro: Let's reschedule then.
Goro: Oh, and I don't think Kitagawa is in the mood to talk right now.
Kurusu: No problem.
Kurusu: I think we got everything out of Nakanohara anyway.
Goro: Good.
Goro: I'll tell when we get back then.
Kurusu: Bring me a souvenir!
Goro: We'll see, won't we?
Kurusu: Goro please.
Kurusu: My family is dying.
Goro: I'll get you something.
Kurusu: <(￣︶￣)>

And then they were in Hawaii.

"Even abroad people know everything about the Phantom Thieves," said Makoto during their first free afternoon. "I'm not sure if I should be impressed or worried that it's all they can talk about."

"Doesn't it mean our work's really getting across to people, then?" said Ann as Goro futilely tried to hammer the jetlag out of his head by blinking repeatedly and tapping his temples. "Uh, senpai, are you doing okay?"

"Dude's never been on a plane before." Ryuji clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Shoulda seen him when the turbulence kicked in. He almost grabbed my hand and started praying."

"Almost," said Goro, "is doing a lot for you there."

"Maybe you should head back to the hotel," said Makoto. "I can hold the fort here."

"It's fine." He looked around. "I really have never been anywhere so exotic before. I shouldn't waste the opportunity." Especially since he didn't have to pay for any of it.

"That's the spirit! Hey, are any of you hungry? I want to try the local stuff."

They began walking along the boardwalk, and Ryuji's eyes bugged out when he saw a Big Bang Burger sign. "Really? Even here?"

"It's a popular chain," Makoto said. "Hawaii has a lot of Japanese influence as well."

And it was owned by Okumura Foods.

He hadn't seen Okumura junior since the hotel. Was it worth asking her about her father? She certainly seemed to hold no fondness for him...

No. No work. "Let's keep looking," he decided.

"Ooh, let me text Yusuke too. You know he's always hungry."

Ah, yes. The Kosei plane to Los Angeles had been rerouted due to a storm, and they'd moved their trip locale to the same island, same city, and same hotel as Shujin's. Goro was not complaining, but it was possible Kurusu regretted not coming along now. He had made his own feelings semi-seriously clear, and Goro needed to pick a souvenir for him before the trip's end.

Since when had he become such a hot commodity?

"Loco moco! Wow, there's so much meat..." Snap snap. "And the egg is so gooey!"

"Oh my." Makoto's eyes widened as her own order came in. "American sushi sure is... heavy. Look at all that mayonnaise."

"Hey, I'll eat that if you won't," said Ryuji, already half-done with his bowl of tuna poke and rice. "This stuff is crazy good. Why don't we have this in Japan?"

Goro inspected his skewer of grilled shrimp before peeling one off and taking a bite. Quite nice, actually. He'd have to add lemon juice next.

"Unagidon for under fifteen hundred yen back home?" Yusuke lifted the first bite to his mouth. "Impossible!"

"What, what! How bad is it?"

"That's not it," said an amused Makoto who'd eaten one of her eight pieces of sushi and was focused entirely on her taro bubble tea at present.

"Maybe I should get that too," Ryuji said, eyeing Yusuke's disappearing bowl. He then pulled out his wallet to check and cringed. "Uh, leader - "

"No," said Goro.

"What? But you pay for him all the time."

"Yusuke's an artist, Ryuji," said Ann. "You just need not to spend your allowance in one shot."

"Do you know how little money my mom gave me for this trip? Fifty. American. Dollars. I'm gonna starve by the time it's over!"

"How is that our fault!"

"Children, please. Don't you ever get sick of arguing?" said Makoto, and the way the two blonds recoiled in matching disgust was enough to make even Goro laugh.

Later, Ann helped them settle the bill. Goro's English comprehension was passable after years of classes, but like most in his situation he used it only when the most dire situation called for it, e.g. foreigners asking for directions in Shibuya.

"Here, senpai." Ann passed him both his own and Yusuke's bill without comment. Since he had the largest cash flow out of all of them, Goro paid for all their weapons and supplies as well as celebratory post-Palace heists, but when it came to ordinary dining out they took care of it themselves. Most of them.

"Actually," said Yusuke behind him. "I'd like to pay my own bill today, if that's alright with you."

"Whoa. Leaving the nest already?"

Goro ignored Ryuji. "Are you sure?"

"Of course." The boy smiled. "I have been keeping good care of what you've bestowed so generously upon me the past few months. It's not fair for you to do both that and this at the same time."

"If you insist." Goro passed over the bill, unsure why his fingers felt so heavy and trudgen and slow. Then it was his turn at the counter, and his pockets heavy with American change, and Yusuke paying for his meal with the money they stole from the ashes of fallen Shadows.

The next day they were at a beach again, and as wet sand squelched between Goro's toes and the waters of the Pacific grazed his ankles, all he could think was that Futaba and Morgana should be here as well.

The Kosei first-year was going on her own class trip to New York in two weeks, but Morgana...

When had it started?

Morgana had been their navigator before Futaba joined the team, and without doubt Oracle was the superior in that matchup. Morgana had been a tremendous help in the beginning, but his knowledge derived from experience alone. Necronomicon could analyze a whole floor of Mementos in a flash, Futaba save them in a pinch if ever they were ambushed. She even healed and buffed them mid-battle on occasion, a great salve to Goro's finances. He could only pay Becky to make so much coffee or curry for a run before his wallet began cursing him.

Morgana had seemed perturbed his designated spot on the team had been taken when Futaba joined, but neither was he replaceable. None of the Thieves were. He knew that, didn't he?

Goro couldn't help but think his own actions had something to do with it. Morgana had asked him multiple times now the connection between him and Shido, and Goro refused to answer every time. And how could he not? Wasn't he allowed to keep some things to himself?

Only four people in the world knew Shido Masayoshi was Goro's father, and one of them was dead. Where would he be if the list only grew? The man had threatened to sue Goro if he ever approached him again or tried to go to the media. It wasn't worth it.

His Palace could be next, you coward, something inside him hissed. Don't let your teammates stumble into a trap because you're too weak to let them how scared you are.

He wasn't scared. But neither did he think he was going to be allowed the luxury of keeping this particular secret any longer.

In the end, everything came back to the past, and identity.

He wondered if Morgana felt the same way.

"Ryuji's trying to pick up American chicks on his own," Ann said as they all caught some shade under leafy palm trees near the boardwalk. "Someone stop him before it gets too sad, please."

"I respectfully decline," said Yusuke, who then immediately wandered off to collect seashells.

"I'm of the same mind," said Makoto. "Sometimes people have to learn to get back up on their own."

"Mmm," Goro agreed, looking around. Ah. "Makoto - "

"Okumura-san," said she, following his gaze at once. "Should we...?"

"You guys are going to investigate? Now?"

"It seems neither of us are the get-a-tan type," Goro said. "We'll join up with you later, Ann."

"If you say so." Ann shrugged and went out onto the beach. "Your loss!" 

As they approached Okumura Haru, currently sitting on a bench alone and reading a book, Makoto said in a low voice, "It looks like we're going after her father's Palace after all."

"The choice has presented itself nicely," Goro said. "Besides, there are no other obvious targets at the moment - "

Apart from your own father.

Makoto didn't notice him cutting himself off, thankfully. She went up to Okumura with a smile on and said, "Okumura-san! How has your trip been so far?"

"Oh." Okumura blinked up from her book in surprise. "Nijima-san. Akechi-kun. It's good to see you two."

"Same here!" Makoto said with unnatural peppiness which... alright, were any of the Phantom Thieves decent actors at all, excluding Goro? "May we sit down?"

"Um - "

"It's been a while," said Goro, and smiled the soft smile he knew the girl would like.

"Yes," said Okumura after that, closing her book and putting it away in her bag. "Please, do. I - I should know more about my fellow third-years, after all."

They chatted for a bit about nothing special, and once Okumura appeared suitably warmed up, Makoto gave Goro a glance over the short girl's head and said, "So! It must have been strange to see Big Bang Burger in another country like this."

"A bit," Okumura said. "I've always known it was popular, but yes, it did feel somewhat surreal. Especially when I went in and the employees didn't know who I was."

"Oh?" said Goro.

"Not that they should," she added hastily at the dry look on his face. "It's just - back home I always go to the one on Central Street. It's near my home, and so I've gotten used to the company."

"You're checking up on your father's work," said Makoto. "That's admirable of you."

"I'm not the one doing anything." Okumura blushed. "I just enjoy the atmosphere. It's lively. There's always people coming to and fro, so I enjoy people-watching with a cup of coffee. Even if the quality is quite subpar."

Goro's only real experience with Big Bang Burger was attempting the smallest of their burger challenges to improve his guts early on in the school year, finishing one-third, vomiting in the bathroom while Morgana hid, disgusted, in his bag, then never coming back to the place. Now he just took protein and worked out at the gym.

"You're trying to make your own coffee, aren't you?" he said, trying to remove that foul memory from his consciousness the moment it came to mind.

"You remembered? I'm just growing the beans for now," said Okumura.

"You grow your own coffee beans?" Makoto looked impressed. "Please, go on."

"Are you sure? It can't be that interesting to talk about, surely - "

"We're all ears," said Goro, and saw in real time how Okumura's heart seemed to expand, her cheeks turn to tomatoes.

"I see! Well, then." She even set her shoulders straight and puffed her chest out. "Let me explain..."

In the end, they learnt nothing new about Okumura's father, but it was hard to consider the conversation a waste of time, especially when afterward she joined them on the walk back to the beach and even gingerly stepped out of her shoes so she could go on the sand barefoot.

"Oh! Hello!" said Ann, who had returned with a sunburnt Ryuji and Yusuke holding something suspicious behind his back. "It's nice to meet you, Okumura-senpai!"

"You as well." Okumura bowed deeply. "Akechi-kun told me you sometimes partake in my produce. I can't tell you how happy that makes me."

"Du - senpai, the honour's all ours," said Ryuji. "Those sun tomatoes are the best I've had in my life."

"Really? No one's ever said that to me before."

Okumura looked overjoyed, but Ann just stared dead-eyed at Goro and mouthed thirst machine. He bit his lip to refrain from laughing, while Makoto said: "Yusuke... what are you holding there?"

"Ah! So glad you asked, Makoto." Yusuke lowered his arms and presented to the group a pair of fully grown, brown lobsters. "These are friends I bought from a restaurant tank just a few minutes away. The sight of them at the bottom of that crowded dirty place was heartbreaking. I had to save them at once. Unfortunately I only had money left over for these two - but aren't they lovely nonetheless?"

"They said they were gonna cook it for us right there," Ryuji said. "But noooo, you had to take them alive, didn't you?"

"Good heavens," said Yusuke. "They're not for eating, Ryuji."

"Well, what else are you gonna do with them?! You can't take them back to Japan with you!"

"Can I not? What if I fill my suitcase with a bag full of water - "

"No, dude, no! Also, do you think you're not gonna get caught at Customs?"

"But what if - "

"Anyway, this is our friend group," Ann said hurriedly. "We're a bit kooky, but we get along fine, don't we?"

"It's lively," Okumura said, and smiled. "Thank you for letting me be a part of it."

Unfortunately, as Yusuke thrust one of the lobsters at Ryuji to hold and the latter dropped it only for the poor lumbering beast to crawl away, they weren't even close to done yet.

Later, she gifted them all souvenir keychains she had bought from Big Bang Burger, and looping the chain of his around his fingers, Goro thought: perfect.

Goro: How goes your research?
Futaba: go to sleep u butt it's like 3am over there
Goro: ? 
Futaba: OK fine well...
Futaba: Old man Okumura has a Palace. I checked.
Futaba: Plus half the Phansite's requests are just gunning for him over and over again.
Futaba: Feels weird to be railroaded into a target like this.
Goro: I wonder who else tried that on us?
Futaba: Wow rude.
Futaba: I wasn't out for revenge when I asked you.
Goro: Is that what people want here?
Futaba: Umm you should read some of this shit on the site then.
Futaba: People are ANGRY.
Goro: Have you figured out the keywords yet?
Futaba: I already guessed the location.
Futaba: Okumura Tower.
Futaba: I just can't figure out the distortion...
Goro: Don't attempt it without us.
Goro: It's just you and Morgana right now.
Futaba: Plus scary rampage prison man, don't forget him.
Goro: I haven't.
Goro: That's why I'm saying not to go into the Palace.
Goro: Even just to look.
Futaba: Ok thanks MOM.
Goro: Thank you. Now go do your homework, Futaba.
Futaba: (ꐦ ಠ皿ಠ )
Futaba: Akechi you motherfuck...

“Well, aren't you Mr Popular?” said Ryuji on the last day as Goro’s phone went off repeatedly.

He checked the messages one by one. Makoto. Yusuke. Hifumi.

And Okumura.

All asking if he wanted to spend the evening with them.

“That look on your face,” Ryuji said before Goro could even respond. “Can you at least pretend to be humble?”

And what for? Besides, these were merely friendly requests.

“Maybe your love life will improve one day, Ryuji,” he said as diplomatically as he could muster.

“Yeah, yeah, ain't gotta rub it in…”

An hour later he was at the boardwalk.

“I hope Hawaii has been good to you,” Goro said as they took their long and meandering walk across the beach. “Even if it involved such a drastic change from the original plan.”

“I am with friends,” said Yusuke. “How could it not be anything but spectacular?”

“How sentimental of you,” Goro teased. “How does your heart not tip over with joy daily?”

“But Goro.” Yusuke blinked. “It does.”

Once again, he was in touch with his emotions in a way that would terrify a lesser man, Goro included.

“Have things changed so much the past few months to make you say that?”

“Without doubt.” The boy sighed. “When I first encountered you that day in the street I could never have imagined where it would lead me.”

And to think, they'd all assumed it was Ann he'd been pursuing. “I'm glad you chose to follow us.”

Yusuke took his hand as they walked, and warmth crept up Goro’s neck like the sun over a shadowed street.

“Thank you, Goro,” he said. “Really, no one has ever been so kind to me before you. All the wonders of the world have opened up since you liberated me from Sensei’s home.”

“It was all you,” Goro said. “I could try to save you, but I could never force you to save yourself. You had to have wanted it of your own free will.”

“Free will?” The boy stopped, and Goro stopped with him. “Where does it lead us ultimately, then?”

The wind picked up, ran through their hair like a mother’s fingers and brushed past their clothes like the touch of a friend.

“Then let me say,” said Yusuke, “that this is of my own free will too, and how much I want this.”

And brought his face near, and kissed Goro.

He would think of it on the flight back all the way through, and up until he was at baggage claims and took out his phone to check the time.

Kurusu: Something big just came up.
Kurusu: Call me when you get back.
Kurusu: Seriously. I'm begging you.
Kurusu: Do not look at the news until I get you.

Futaba: Um, so remember when you said not to go to the Palace without you…
Futaba: Well Morgana kept bugging me and I managed to guess the keyword and...
Futaba: Welp.
Futaba: Call me ASAP Akechi I'm freaking out.
Futaba: I'm not even support class technically! There's no way I could have chased after him.
Futaba: Oh god what do I doooooo?

Three missed calls from Isshiki Wakaba.

One from Boss.

All but one of those things could wait.

"Get your things," Goro said. "We have to leave. Now."

The plan was to drop their luggage off at Leblanc and rush over to Okumura Tower to retrieve Morgana, not a stellar idea considering how jetlagged they were - but to leave a teammate to die because they were tired was a risk no one was willing to take. Goro called Futaba the moment they left the airport and ordered the girl to get all the weapons and supplies he kept in his room and wait for them in the cafe. It wasn't a problem; she had a key to the Sakura house herself, and the relief in her voice was overwhelming.

"Hurry! Hurry! He's been in there for hours now and I don't know how far he's gone in!"

"At least tell me what the place looks like," Goro said under his breath as the train rattled by to Yongen.

"The keyword was outer space. Like Big Bang Burger. But the Palace itself was a factory - all the Shadows inside looked like robots. I didn't get too far in, but Morgana suddenly said he wanted to do it himself and took off. Like, what the hell!"

"Thanks for letting me know, Futaba," Goro said. "We'll be there soon."

When he hung up, four pair of eyes were looking up at him from where they sat.

"Thank you for doing this," he said, because nothing else seemed appropriate at the moment. Ann was fighting off yawns, and even pristine Makoto was hunched over her suitcase.

"What," Ryuji said finally, arms loosely crossed. "Like you were gonna do it yourself if we all said no?"

Goro said nothing, because it was obvious.

"Goro. It'll be fine," said Yusuke. "We all want to see Morgana home and safe."

"Of course." If the others could see the colour on his face, they didn't say a word about it.

Leblanc was finally in sight. They dragged their suitcases through the narrow streets while ducking past the afternoon rumble of senior citizens and elementary schoolers. Ryuji kicked the cafe door open. "Yo, Boss, it's an emergency, we gotta - "

"Ah," said the clipped tone of Nijima Sae, Tokyo prosecutor, as Ryuji stopped dead in his tracks and they all bumped into his back. "Come in. I was waiting for you."

Ryuji glared as he went in. "Do we know you, lady?"

Behind Goro, Makoto sucked in her breath.

In one of the booths Futaba looked petrified, the duffel bag full of their supplies on the table beside her.

Boss was stiff behind the counter. "This prosecutor says you were all snooping at Wakaba's work a month ago. Is that true?"

"Thank you, Sakura-san," said Nijima. "But I don't need your assistance in this matter. Please, sit down." She gestured with a hand, and they all fell into line. Her expression tightened as she saw one person in particular. "Hello, Makoto."

"Hi, sis," the girl mumbled as she took the spot besides Ann.

Nijima resumed after a moment. "A month ago a 110 call was sent from Isshiki Wakaba's workplace to report two suspicious men who had allegedly entered the premises using threats and coercion to get in. Apparently their target was Isshiki; they may have tried to kidnap her, and later her office was destroyed." She collected her hands in her lap, staring at them one-by-one. "I was tipped onto this when the men were later taken in for questioning and arrested. I suspect them to be former employees of the yakuza boss Kaneshiro Junya."

"No way." Makoto turned her head away, and Nijima elder snapped to her at once.

"Makoto," she said in a tone as soft as frost. "I hope this is all new information to you."

"It - it is, sis. I'm just - " Makoto was white as a ghost. "You're working the Kaneshiro case, right? So this must be a godsend for you!"

"... if that's how you want to play it." Nijima reached for her bag and took out a portfolio of full-sized glossy black-and-white photos. "I'm sure you all remember this, don't you?"

It was surveillance footage of the day they'd come to Isshiki-san's workplace to deliver the calling card.

They'd forgotten about the cameras.

Footage of them in the reception area. Coming out of the elevator on the third floor. Goro, kneeling in front of Isshiki-san's door with the Thieves around him. Isshiki-san coming in, them leaving.

The men approaching. The fight.

Them running away with Isshiki-san into the stairwell.

The two hour recorded gap on the camera data in between when they ran onto the sixth floor and when they left.

"I'd like to take you all in for questioning," Nijima said, and that was when it all came apart.

"What! We didn't do anything."

"We were just there to surprise Futaba's mom for her birthday!"

"Sis, don't you think this is a big misunderstanding?"

"I'm shocked that someone in your position would resort to intimidating teenagers - "

Futaba didn't speak at all, not with her glasses fogging up and her mouth a downward line.

"They're all kids," said Boss. "And you don't have a warrant to talk to any of them. Not without their parents around."

"Don't I?" Nijima put the files away. "You're the guardian of one of these children right here. Are you saying you won't give me permission to question him?"

"Not a chance in hell," said Boss, and a small part of Goro's heart ached.

A true confidant indeed, Robin Hood observed. Try not to take it for granted.

He knew. God, he knew.

"Akechi Goro," said Nijima. "I have direct proof of you breaking into a locked office in a government facility. Are you aware of how serious a trespassing charge would look on your file, considering the precarious situation you're in?"

"I am aware," said Goro, smile plastic and jagged around the corners. "But so must you be, that Isshiki Wakaba will never press charges against me."

"So she's told me." Nijima tilted her head. "But your school runs a tighter ship than that, I'm afraid."

"Bullshit," snarled Ryuji. "You're gonna rat him out for something like that? Who the hell do you think you are, lady?"

"Well?" said Nijima, ignoring him, and all points of thought in Goro's head became one.

They'd fucked up.

Isshiki-san had never been the true obstacle when pursuing her Palace. It had been their own naivety. How easily they'd taken it for granted they could waltz into a government building and do as they liked because they tricked a well-meaning secretary into letting them in with open arms.

Even though Futaba was a hacker, Goro hadn't bothered to tell her to keep an eye out, nor had he paid attention to them himself. And now they were all on tape, caught and identified because they'd been careless, and because, in his own innocent, bumbling way Kurusu had introduced Goro to the prosecutor before, thinking it might have helped bring them together in a sense of kinship.

All it had done instead was plant a memory of him in her mind, associate him with Makoto, the Isshiki break-in, and through accident, the Kaneshiro case she was working on.

She'd also been the head prosecutor on the Madarame case before. She knew who Yusuke was.

If she went to Shujin with the proof of Goro's mischief, he'd lose his scholarship in a heartbeat. The school was being questioned over the Kamoshida case still; they wouldn't tolerate a scandal like a top student having a predilection for breaking and entering.

Where would the Phantom Thieves be if Goro was expelled and resigned to a life of picking corn and cheap beer back in Fuefuki?

Would Morgana - if he was still alive, somewhere in the creaking machinery of Okumura's Palace - want to come along with him?

Who would make sure Dr Takemi wasn't working herself into an early death?

That Futaba was learning to cook now that her mother was home more often?

That Yoshida still had someone willing to listen to him after another disastrous night where people sneered and jeered and heckled him from the taunts of twenty years ago?

Who was going to weed Okumura's garden for her?

What of Yusuke's kiss?

Would Kurusu take his side or defend the prosecutor who had been with him from the beginning?

Goro didn't know.

All he did know was this -

He had to make a choice.

He said, "Let everyone else go, and I'll come with you to the station."

Nijima narrowed her eyes. "All of you will have to be questioned eventually. You can't presume your testimony is worth more than the others just because you say so."

"I know more than everyone else," said Goro. "Don't you want to find out how much?"

"Don't do it," said Ryuji. "We don't have to listen to her."

"Senpai. We'll think of something."

"This isn't right, sis," said Makoto. "You're seriously going to threaten Goro's scholarship over this?"

"Goro?" said Nijima sharply, and Makoto shut up.

"How you treat him," said Yusuke, "will determine our own cooperation. Proceed carefully."

"You can't," Futaba said finally, and her voice was in pieces. "You just can't. Please."

"I'm willing," Goro said. "If you are."

"Kid, I am not giving permission to this - "

"Boss. It's fine."

"It's so not fine!" Futaba got up and stomped her way up the attic. "I hate this, oh my God!"

Before Nijima could reply to that, Goro said quickly: "Shall we, then?"

"... very well." She stood up and slung her bag over her shoulder. "Makoto, you're coming too."

"What?" the girl quailed. "But sis - "

"I don't know what you've been doing with these people the past few months," said Nijima. "But I'm going to find out, right now."

"You're gonna interrogate your own sister?" Ryuji looked disgusted. "What kind of person are you?"

"Your disregard for the conflict of interest present is unethical," said Yusuke, "and lessens the high ground the further you speak."

"High ground?" Nijima looked amused. "I'm a prosecutor. The only thing that matters is getting the job done. Now, after me."

"Don't ever show your face in Leblanc again," Boss said, making her smile grow only more contemptuous.

"We'll see you all later," Goro said. "Makoto, let's go."

"Ye - yes. I guess we have to." She bowed her head. "I'm so sorry, everyone."

"It's not your fault." Ann looked stricken. "We won't leave you behind, I swear."

"Yeah, you have not seen the last of us."

"No," said Nijima as she walked past them all. "I don't intend to."

Makoto went like a dead man to her side, and Yusuke stood up to let Goro out of his seat, brushing fingers as they did.

"Goro," the boy began, flushed. "Be careful. If anything happens to you - "

"Yusuke," Goro said, and felt calm again. "Look at me. Do you think I'd ever put myself in a situation I couldn't get out of?"

But for once the boy turned his gaze away, unable to say a word in his defense.

He left Leblanc with Nijima and Makoto, and left the rest of the Phantom Thieves and Boss in their wake, silent and shocked and despite their numbers, utterly helpless and alone.

"You kids have a lot of explaining to do," Boss said when the woman was gone. "What the hell were you doing at Wakaba's place? Why did you break into her office?"

"We weren't breaking in."

It was Futaba. She was halfway down the stairs, and her eyes were puffy and red behind her thick glasses. "We were trying to save her, Sojiro. And we succeeded."

"Save her? From what?"

They ignored him. "Goro gave me his phone," Yusuke said, holding it up.

"What does it say? Tell me!" Ann slapped the table in agitation.

"... he says to follow through with what we planned."

"There's only four of us! How are we going to do that?"

"We have to," Futaba mumbled. "It was my fault. I was the one who - I didn't listen, and now - "

"Futaba," said Boss. "Tell me what's going on, please."

"I'm sorry, Boss. We just don't have the time right now. Let's go."

"Are you for real? Are we doing this?"

"Yes," said Yusuke. "We are."

"Later, Sojiro." Futaba grabbed the duffel bag full of supplies, groaned when it nearly hit the floor. "Inari?"

"Of course."

"At least tell me where you're going! Your mother's going to be worried sick over you if you're not home soon."

"I know, Sojiro." Futaba scuffed her shoe. "But we've got people we worry about too, and we can't just not help them if they need us."

"You'll understand one day," said Ann.

"How will I when you kids won't tell me anything?"

"Cuz it isn't safe for you to know. That's how it is sometimes."

"The hell it isn't. You're not pulling a line on me like that - "

"Goodbye, Sakura-san," said Yusuke. "We'll bring Goro home soon enough. We promise."

Boss' shoulders sagged. "You can't promise me something like that. Not when a kid like him's involved with people like them."

"Then we're gonna do it anyway," said Futaba. "Bye, Sojiro."

"Futaba - "

But they had already gone, and left him behind.

Goro: Stay the course with the plan.
Goro: Morgana is still in danger.
Goro: And I can talk myself out of anything. 
Goro: Don't be deceived by Nijima.
Goro: Kurusu said she was one of the good ones.
Goro: I may be able to use her to our advantage.
Goro: Until then.
Goro: Do your best.

Chapter Text

15. Steal Okumura's heart I

They took the train to Shibuya Station in dead silence.

Ryuji sat in his seat with his head in his hands while Ann fiddled with her pigtails endlessly, fingers twirling around her hair like cotton candy. Yusuke leaned against the wall with his eyes closed as if in meditation, duffel bag at his feet. And Futaba stared at the glossy black screen of her phone and tried desperately not to cry.

Akechi was an idiot.

Why would he give himself up like that? It had been the six of them plus Sojiro against one prosecutor, and the woman would have left empty-handed if they'd stayed strong against her. Try as she might to threaten them, she couldn't do it on her own.

Or maybe she could. The look on Akechi's face when Nijima had brought up the idea of telling his school about him breaking into Mom's office had been the saddest thing Futaba had ever seen.

He had been smiling.

He had looked shocked for a single second - then this fake smile as rough and crumbling and cracked as badly applied plaster caked itself onto his face, and without letting the rest of them get a word in he sold himself out and walked out of there with that prosecutor without once looking back.

Why did he have to be such a bonehead about everything?

Looking at him Futaba could only ever feel helpless, because whatever path he was walking on, he didn't seem to have any idea that the rest of them were right behind him. Why didn't he ever look back? Was he afraid they would judge him if he did?

You don't have the right to make yourself a martyr, she thought, then gritted her teeth because he'd done it for her.

Once again, Futaba, you've truly outdone yourself.

She shouldn't have listened to Morgana. But the cat had been so mopey lately, and she thought if she could cheer him up on her own that Akechi would be proud of her. Good job, Futaba, he'd say in that wry deadpan voice of his, and mean it.

Now no one was going to congratulate her for anything.

Futaba put her phone away and took her glasses off, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

A hand squeezed her shoulder. "Hey," Ann said in a small voice. "Have faith in them."

"Yeah." She sniffled. "If anyone can get themselves out of a tight situation it's those two nerds."

"I bet they've already got the whole police station at their beck and call," said Ryuji. His grin was weak though, barely even revealing his canines.

"Let's get the mission done," Yusuke said, "and we'll soon be together again."

Futaba nodded. "We'll do it," she said, promising herself more than anyone else.

And then they were at their stop.

Makoto went in first.

Goro waited outside in a chair with an officer standing guard over him while Makoto entered a small windowless room with only a table and two chairs inside. Sae sat in one of the chairs, a portfolio set out in front of her.

Makoto took the other, and sat down.

What would Dad even say if he saw them like this?

Who would he be disappointed in more?

"Sis," she began, because Sae hadn't said anything yet. "This is a big misunderstanding - "

"Makoto," said Sae. "It's fine. You don't have to lie anymore."

What?

Below the table, her hands clenched into fists. "I don't know what you mean by that."

"Just tell me what happened that day," said Sae. "You're not in any danger here. I'm not going to arrest you or anything ludicrous like that."

Makoto forced herself not to look at the door. "What about Go - Akechi?"

"What about him?" 

"You shouldn't threaten him either." Makoto sagged in her seat. "My God, sis, we're just witnesses. Why are you acting like this?"

"All I want," Sae repeated, "is for you to tell me, in your exact words, what happened at Isshiki Wakaba's workplace the day you were there. You can do that, can't you, Makoto?"

It was the same tone she took on when Makoto did poorly at a test she should excel at, or failed to keep the apartment in good order, or any number of things Sae detested.

"Yes, sis," she said glumly, and began.

"Our friend Futaba wanted to surprise her mother at her workplace to improve their relationship. They hadn't been getting along lately, so Futaba thought it could help. She... asked us to come along, since she had bentos prepared for Isshiki-san and her colleagues to eat - "

"Were they store-bought?"

"No," Makoto said. "Akechi made them."

"That must have been an ordeal." Sae looked down at her portfolio, though it was closed. What was in there - the photos of them or something else entirely? "The secretary told us you came in to surprise Isshiki for her birthday."

"We... lied. I'm sorry." Makoto bit her lip. "We didn't think she'd let us in otherwise."

"Entry via false pretences." Sae lifted her hand to her cheek. "You're aware of how this sounds, aren't you?"

"I know."

"Continue."

"She let us in, and we went up to Isshiki-san's floor. But her door was locked, and since we were trying to surprise her, we couldn't ask her to let us in. So Akechi picked the door open. We were only planning to decorate her office. That's all."

"Did he do it of his own volition?" Sae tapped a painted nail onto the table. When Makoto heisitated: "I have the footage, remember."

"No," she admitted. "Actually, I asked him to do it."

"You?" Sae lifted a brow. "That sounds ridiculous."

"It's true," she said, the lie seeping through the gap in her teeth like vile air. "I was already anxious about being there, so I thought - if we decorated Isshiki-san's office, then left, we could get it over quickly - "

"So you asked a classmate of yours to commit a crime to speed things up?" Sae interrupted. "That's completely unlike you."

"Yes, well..." She looked down. "There's a lot you don't know about me, sis."

"I'm not upset with you." Sae's voice softened. "Just... nothing right now makes you and your friends sound as if you had any good judgment that day."

"We're teenagers." Makoto shrugged. "Bad judgment is in our DNA."

"Not you," Sae said, and she wondered how her own family couldn't - didn't want to - get it.

"You broke in. And then what?"

"We were going to put a cake on Isshiki-san's desk," Makoto said. "But then she showed up, and - no surprise - she was angry. We... dropped the cake by accident, and Futaba and her mother got into an argument. She wanted us to leave, so we did."

"But not for long. Those two men came in soon after."

"We heard them argue with Isshiki-san." Makoto pursed her lips. "It sounded bad, so we turned back. It looked like the men were trying to take Isshiki-san somewhere, so we tried to stop them. Futaba got hurt. One of the men hit her."

"Then you ran with Isshiki up to the sixth floor," said Sae.

"Yes. We barricaded ourselves in a room and hid there until the men left."

"Here's what I don't get." Sae crossed her arms. "According to the surveillance data, the men tried to get into the room you were in, but they left after ten minutes. You didn't leave for two hours. What was going on in there?"

Makoto crossed her ankles so she wouldn't tap her feet on the floor in a nervous tic. "We were scared."

"Why didn't you call the cops, Makoto? Someone could have helped you."

"I... um..." Her mouth was dry. "We were scared."

"Scared?"

"Yes. Because we'd come in under... false pretences. As you said. " She looked away. "I didn't want to get my friends in trouble."

"And Isshiki too? Because she was in there with you, and it's hard to believe she would have been swayed by such an argument. She could have vouched for you, even."

"It was a tense situation. We were all hoping to forget about it after." Makoto swallowed. "Plus, we wanted to give Futaba room to talk with her mother. It seemed like the right time to do it."

"With five other people in a barricaded room and two violent thugs outside," Sae said incredulously. "That seemed like the right time for a heart-to-heart?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, sis," Makoto said. "But it's what happened. And if you ask Futaba or Isshiki-san herself, they'd tell you the same thing."

Sae sighed. "I'm sure they would, Makoto. Alright, you're good to go."

"Really?"

"Yes. Go on, bring Akechi in."

Makoto got up, then remembered. "Wait. How do you know those men used to work for Kaneshiro? How do you know it wasn't someone else?"

Sae lifted her gaze. "They told us when we interrogated them. Is there something you know that I don't?"

"No, not at all," Makoto said hurriedly. "I'll bring Akechi in right away. But please - "

"What, Makoto."

"Go easy on him. Please?"

"He's a witness too," Sae said. "I'll do what it takes to get the truth from him."

"Even if it means threatening to get him expelled?"

Sae said nothing. Makoto went on: "If you've looked into his file, then you know he doesn't have any family to take care of him. He used to live in an institution before he moved in with Sakura-san. Don't you see how cruel that is? You can't take someone's whole life away just because they're not cooperating with you."

"Is Akechi your friend, Makoto?" Sae said finally.

"He is," Makoto said. "And even if you don't trust him - I do."

"Very well. I'll hear what he has to say then."

"Thank you, sis!"

"Now go," Sae said. "I still have work to do."

"Here we go," Ann said hesitantly as they stood in the entrance plaza of Okumura Tower, a skip away from Central Street. "Futaba, would you do us the honours?"

Futaba lifted her phone up to her mouth, Nav App already active, and spoke into it with anticipation and dread: "Okumura Kunikazu. Okumura Tower. Outer space."

And like that, the Metaverse rippled into reality around them.

"Whoa!" Skull jolted. "Why are we in our costumes already?"

"We're a threat to the Palace ruler," murmured Fox. "Mona must have triggered enemies while he was here."

"If he's still here." Panther looked around in curiosity at the ultra-futuristic moon base around them. "Oracle, is there any chance he might have left the Palace already?"

"Necronomicon, analysis," Futaba said, and got a reading back immediately. "No good. I can sense him somewhere nearby."

"At least he hasn't gotten too far."

"Come. Let us proceed with caution," Fox said, and so they stepped inside the Palace.

Inside was as far as Futaba had initially gotten with Morgana before he took off on her. "Are those robots?" Panther said as they entered a walkway overlooking a factory work floor. "What's the big guy saying to all the others?"

Futaba had heard the spiel before, and been sick to her stomach. "He's telling them to work or die," she said dully. "Look. One of them is being taken away now."

"What a piece of shit," snarled Skull. "So this Okumura guy even thinks of his own employees as machines he can trash when they're no longer good to him."

"He has become completely alienated from humanity," said Fox. "Nevertheless our current objective, we will have to come back and clear this Palace."

"Yeah," said Futaba. "Let's get going."

They soon entered a floor with a large metal door that wouldn't open no matter what. "Did Mona get through this?" Panter said with a frown.

"No, he's still here." Futaba scowled. "Damn it, where could he be? Stupid cat!" She kicked the door in anger.

"Stay calm, Oracle. We'll just retrace our steps."

"I know that, Inari! It's just - "

And then they heard it.

"DANGER, DANGER: INTRUDER ALERT."

"Hiya! I'll show you what's what!"

"Oh no," said Panther, and they all turned heel and ran.

"There!" Skull pointed down at the work floor. "Down below! He's gonna fight the big guy!"

"On his own? Ridiculous!" Fox grabbed the railing and flung himself over, jumping twenty feet with the grace of a crane. Had it been in reality he would have broken both his legs, but here it was effortless. Panther followed in a leap right after, and Skull in a cannonball jump that landed him on his feet without a hitch.

In the Metaverse, Futaba too could fly.

"Necronomicon, to me!" she demanded, and the great green spaceship came to being around her and carried her over the railing and above the others with only a chuckle in her mind. Through her screens she saw Mona properly for the first time that day since he'd fled. "Oh, Mona..."

He looked exhausted.

"What? What are you guys doing here!" he said, backing away from the team as they took position around him.

"We came to save you," said Panther.

"Yeah, what the hell! Don't go running off into the Metaverse on your own."

"Shut up! I've been doing this on my own long before you guys even had Personas," Mona snapped. "And I can do this on my own too. Watch this! Garudyne!"

But nothing came out of Zorro, not even an honourary splutter of wind. He was out of juice.

"Damn it! I - here!" Mona threw a bomb ineffectually at the Shadow instead, doing paltry damage. "That was my last one! Crap! Umm - "

"Mona, please," said Fox. "We're all on your side, and we came to get you because we care about you."

Were they really going to talk while the enemy was still there, Futaba thought in despair. Come on, come on -

"Then why isn't Crow here?" Mona demanded. "And Queen? Why'd they send the B-team to get me?"

"Ohohoho, we are not the B-team - "

"Mona, please. Why are you so upset with us?"

"Because I - damn it, I - "

"Enough!" Futaba yelled from overhead. "Finish the fight first, then argue!"

And slammed Active Support down from the heavens, shouting: "Go, go, go!"

With Mona recharged the Shadow went down, but in thrice as many turns as it would have taken with Crow in the party. His ability to switch Personas in a heartbeat was a skill none of them could mimic, and without him they were highly vulnerable, even with weakness-reducing accessories on. Futaba winced to see them get battered, even as they ultimately came out the victor.

"... look, guys," Mona said when the battle was done. "It's nice of you to come after me, but... I didn't need you. I could have gone and done it on my own."

"Like hell you could. You were gonna die if Oracle didn't save your ass - "

"Shut up! So what." Mona glared. "I know Oracle's better than me, Skull. You don't have to remind me."

"We're not, Mona." Panther tried to keep her voice soft. "But we do care. We came running all the way from the airport because we were afraid you were in real danger."

"Yeah, well..." The cat glowered. "Looks like not everyone got the invite to the party."

"That's not it," said Fox.

"Then what is? Tell me!"

"Akechi and Makoto are with the freaking police right now, Morgana!" Futaba couldn't hold it in any longer. "A prosecutor took them in for questioning because we all got caught on the cameras breaking into Mom's workplace, and Akechi gave himself up to get the head off our backs for us, alright? Now I don't know why you're upset since you won't tell us, and yeah it probably has something to do with Akechi because he keeps like a billion secrets just for fun, but come on! Aren't we all friends by now? Do you think we hate you or something? We want to help you, you just won't let us!" She ripped her goggles off and screamed.

"Please tell us what's wrong, Mona," said Panther.

"You're a Phantom Thief too," said Skull grudgingly. "And... I'm sure a lot of things feel messed up in your mind right now. But we can fix it together, you know? That's why we're a team."

"Exactly, Skull," said Fox. "Mona - "

"... are they really in jail right now?" said Mona, looking uncertain.

"They're not in jail," said Futaba. "But they're being prodded with all kinds of questions, and if they let things slip about why Mom was nearly kidnapped or the Metaverse, then - "

"Senpai could get expelled. Or worse."

"... I don't want that." The cat stared at the floor. "I just... wanted to prove I could take on a Palace on my own. I keep... having these dreams lately, and I thought I could get some answers here. Like in Mementos."

"Hey," said Panther. "We're here for you. We want you to find answers too."

"Yeah, but... you guys already know who you are, you know? I always feel like I'm guessing, and I keep wanting to know because - because I don't have anything else in life to look forward to."

"You have us," Fox said.

Mona snorted. "Thanks, Fox, but sometimes it's not much."

"That's fine, then." The boy blinked.

"Is it," said Skull. "Really."

"It'll leave room for new experiences and memories to make. So yes." Fox smiled. "Mona, right now the best thing we could all do is return to Leblanc and wait for Goro and Makoto to come back to us."

"... okay," said Mona. "And I'm sorry. For making you all worry. You too, Futaba."

"Thanks," said Futaba, screwing her eyes shut as fresh tears stung. "Asshole."

"Ah," said Nijima as Goro walked in. "Now this is where things get interesting."

Goro smiled as he sat down in his chair. "I'm afraid you have the advantage of me, Nijima-san."

"Don't play coy, Akechi." She leaned forward in her seat. "Tell me what really happened."

"Futaba wanted to surprise her mother for her birthday," Goro said. "So she asked us to help her out - "

"Bullshit."

He kept his smile on. "I'm sorry?"

"Makoto already gave me the spiel," said Nijima. "But forgive me for not believing that was your true intentions that day. What were you really doing there?"

"Delivering bentos for Isshiki-san and her colleagues," said Goro.

She placed a finger on the edge of the portfolio on the table, and flipped it open. "Ah," she said, looking down on the first place. "Let's start here, shall we?"

It had Goro's photo. It was his personal file.

What did she mean to do with it?

"Akechi Goro," said Nijima, reading down the page. "Born on June 2, 1998 to a mother, Akechi Himeko, and no named father. She raised you on her own, correct?"

"Until I was five," Goro said.

"What happened to her?"

"Death approached her. More precisely," he added, "she hanged herself."

Nijima looked up from the file. "Excuse me?"

He hadn't stuttered. "She killed herself, Nijima-san," he said. "Don't make me repeat it."

"Very well." She continued. "You were raised in a series of foster homes after that, then brought to the Fuefuki Boys' Home when you were eight."

"Yes."

"Where it seems you accrued quite a list of bad habits early on in life." She flipped the page. "Fighting with other residents at your home. Petty theft from local stores. Frequent outbursts of anger. Here it says you were suspected of poisoning three other boys when you were eleven." She raised a brow. "Care to explain?"

"It was a misunderstanding," said Goro.

"Absurd." Her nostrils flared. "How do you justify behaviour such as that even now?"

"They deliberately trashed my bicycle to get a rise out of me."

"And it worked?"

"It was the one thing in life that made me happy. And they tore it apart for that same reason."

"So you believe attempted manslaughter a reasonable counter to destruction of small property." Niima stared. "You're fortunate the social workers at your place swept it under the rug. Are you aware of what could have happened to you otherwise?"

"... Nijima-san, I hope it's obvious I'm not the same boy I was back then," said Goro.

"Your recent actions suggest otherwise."

"Are people not allowed to change from time to time?" 

"Do they?" said Nijima, unperturbed.

Goro looked down. "Perhaps to someone in your lofty position I will always be a delinquent, someone set for the wrong path in life and every good action of mine a momentary diversion from my true purpose. But where would I be if I believed the same thing?"

She crossed her arms. "Explain."

"I'm saying," said Goro, "that if bore the same damning opinion of myself as you - and most of society - hold about people like me, there would never be any reason for me to be a moral, law-abiding citizen at all."

"Apart from doing the right thing."

He shook his head. "Nijima-san, people don't do the right thing unless they believe it overwhelms all other values in the room. And very few people do the right thing if they know they'll still be punished for it."

"Ah. So a reward is what you want?"

"You say reward. I say necessity." He stretched out his fingers in his lap, flexed them for feeling. "Trying to get me expelled because I won't tell you exactly what you want to hear... what is your purpose there? Do you think that making it impossible for me to finish my education will make a better person? If I'm unable to get a proper job as a result? I did turn eighteen in June, which means the institution I lived in no longer has an obligation to me. Is that where you want me to be in the end?"

"I'm afraid that's irrelevant to the situation."

"So is this entire conversation." Goro looked away. "Nijima-san. Be honest with your intentions here, and I'll do the same."

"You'll promise not to lie to me? Is that it?" said Nijima, a rare thread of potential in her cool manner. "How can I trust you to follow through?"

How could anyone?

"How about this then. Do you believe Makoto is a bad judge of character?"

"You're going to bring her up? Fine." The woman frowned. "Until I looked at the camera footage, I never thought so. She's always been an upright person."

Right. "What about Kurusu?"

"What?"

"The boy wonder," said Goro. "He comes to Leblanc often, and we've become friendly after a fashion. Do you think he's unreliable when it comes to assessing people?"

Nijima scoffed. "Kurusu's a ridiculous figure, and biased against my own line of work. I have no reason to believe he has a serious opinion about anything."

"But you work with him," Goro said. "He's helping you on the Kaneshiro case now... and the Madarame one too, wasn't he? Before you were taken off the case?"

"Did Kurusu tell you that?" said Nijima, her knuckles white.

"It was an educated guess." He stared at his hands. "Forgive me, but I don't think you would let him have access to your work if you truly thought so little of him."

"No," said she. "I suppose I couldn't.

"Very well," she added. "Would you like anyone else to vouch for your present character?"

"Yes," said Goro. "But these two you know personally. You know what they're like already."

"And through their opinion of you, whether I should believe you." Nijima set her shoulders straight, in position again. "Fair enough.

"Now," she added, closing the file on him, "tell me what happened that day, and leave nothing out."

"Yes, ma'am," Goro said.

"Let's go home," said Futaba, Mona in her arms as Necronomicon floated upward and out of the way. The Thieves clambered up onto the walkway right after, and Futaba let him down gently on his feet.

"This place gives me the creeps," said Panther. "I know they're just cognitions, but somehow seeing people break down like actual machines is so off-putting. And the CEO doesn't even care."

"Okumura is a wealthy man," said Fox. "And more often than not, great fortune is seldom accumulated by moral means."

"Yeah. Like treating his people like shit," Skull grumbled. "Can't wait to beat the sense back into him later."

Futaba didn't care. "I just hope Akechi and Makoto are okay," she said. "I - "

Necronomicon pinged.

"Something wrong, Oracle?"

"I..." She furrowed her brows. "Hold on."

It pinged again, and this time there was no mistaking the signal.

"There's someone else here," Futaba said. "Another human."

"What?" Fox narrowed his eyes. "Could it be?"

Panther's whip was out again. "The room with the lock. That's the only other place we went to."

"Guys, if it's the Warden, I don't think we can take him on right now."

"Not without Crow," said Mona. "But - "

"It's fine." Futaba held up a Goho-M in between her fingers. "Even if all we do is confirm that he's here, it's better than nothing. At least we'll know who to watch out for."

And so, they crept forth in caution.

The door lock was open, and in the distance Shadows in the form of machines were blurring past hallways. "Holy shit," said Skull. "What do we do now?"

"Our mission was to retrieve Mona. We've accomplished that." Fox's hand gripped the sheath of his sword. "We should come back when fully prepared. Until then - "

"Shh!" Panther pressed a finger to her lips. "Did any of you just hear that?"

They all shut up. Necronomicon spread its influence, and Futaba whipped around to face a corner shelf stacked high with boxes. "There! Come out, asshole!"

"It's go time." Despite his nerves, Skull's fists were crackling. "Hey, we know you're here!"

"On guard," said Fox, advancing. "You have nowhere left to go, villain!"

One of the boxes shifted.

Then another. Futaba's breath was in her throat. Who could it be, who could it be -

And out from behind the boxes came out a trembling girl in a pink sweater and a Shujin uniform.

"What." Futaba said. "You're not the Warden."

"Okumura-senpai?" Panther ripped her mask off in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"Takamaki-san? Is that you?"

"It's a false alarm, guys." Skull took his mask off, and Fox followed.

"Sakamoto-kun! Why are you in a costume?" Okumura widened her eyes. "Wait. You were the ones fighting that robot down below?"

"You saw that, senpai?" For some reason Skull looked weirdly pleased. "What did you think? Were we cool?"

"Um, well - "

"We shouldn't dally," said Fox. "The Warden may still be present."

"Nah." Futaba gave him a thumbs-down. "Just her."

"We need to get out of here," Mona said. "Let's go back."

"Is that a talking cat?" Okumura said.

"That's Mona, senpai! I mean, Morgana. Don't worry, he's one of us."

"One of you...?" She gave them all a onceover. "It couldn't be."

"Yeah, we're the Phantom Thieves of Hearts blah blah blah," said Futaba. "Now can we leave this stupid Palace and go home already?"

"Tell me," said Goro. "Are you aware of a politician named Shido Masayoshi?"

Across the table, Nijima snorted. "Am I aware of the man who's likely to be our newest Prime Minister?"

"Yes," said Goro, and felt the air squeeze out of his lungs. "What a crime it would be for this country if he was elected, don't you think?"

"Pray, what do you mean by that?"

"I mean..." He crossed his legs. "He's the one who sent those thugs after Isshiki-san that day."

The knives came out in a flash. "Makoto said nothing about that."

"Did you ask her?" Goro blinked. "They and Isshiki-san were arguing about something, surely."

"You overheard?"

"I did," he said, and told her.

"All you have is hearsay. There's nothing tying them to Shido - "

"What's tying them to Kaneshiro, then?"

"Their confession."

"Which is reliable?"

"If theirs isn't, yours isn't either," said Nijima. "You both have a great deal to lose. So which is it?"

Goro leaned back in his chair and thought about it. "Perhaps it's both," he offered.

"Kaneshiro and Shido? Don't be ridiculous."

He closed his eyes. "But why would some two-bit yakuza go after a government scientist then? They didn't just try to kidnap her - when they failed, they destroyed her office. They took her computer, her hard drives, her files. What would Kaneshiro - who's now in holding - have to gain from something like that? Why would anyone in the yakuza possibly care about some loony scientific theory of all things?"

"So you think Shido hired them," Nijma said flatly, fingers laced together. "Is that any more likely?"

"In all her life Isshiki Wakaba's only had one enemy," Goro said. "It's true I don't have proof, but I believe it was him."

After a long moment, the prosecutor sighed.

"You and I both know it's not that easy. Someone like Shido won't be taken down by speculation alone."

"Ah. So you're thinking about it already?"

"Don't be absurd," she snapped. "I'm saying the burden of proof needed is far greater than a mere teenager could understand. Even opening an investigation on him on this alone would - "

"What if I could get you proof?" said Goro.

"Proof," Nijima repeated. "How."

"I could get those two men to talk for you."

She laughed. "They're already talking."

"They've told you they're from Kaneshiro. Anything else?"

After a grudging minute, she said, "No. But if they're not willing to talk to me, they'll have no time for you."

"I have no intention of interrogating them," Goro said. "That's still your purview. I merely want their names."

She frowned. "And what do you think you'll get out of that alone?"

"I... know a hacker."

"Really." She narrowed her eyes. "You realize, of course, that this doesn't improve your credibility at all in my eyes."

"No," said Goro. "But you trusted Kurusu once. Please, allow me the same favour."

"Kurusu! Kurusu was the most ludicrous gamble of my career," said Nijima.

"But it paid off, didn't it?"

"He didn't have anything on his record."

"That can't be helped. I was a child then."

"And what are you now?"

"I'm..." He smiled. "A concerned citizen."

"This is absurd," Nijima said. "I have no reason to trust you. You're a mere teenager, how could you possibly help me in something like this?"

Because I'm the leader of the Phantom Thieves, Goro thought.

"Because you know it doesn't make sense either," he said. "And you want to win your case."

Nijima Sae closed her eyes, and appeared to meditate.

"I'll allow it," she murmured. "But only because Makoto and Kurusu know your character and for whatever reason have deemed you trustworthy. I'll rely on their judgment for now. Until I get a better view of you myself."

"Thank you, Nijima-san," said Goro.

"Don't be so friendly just yet." She got up. "This isn't the end. I'll still have to question your friends, and whatever you have planned cannot be illegal or I'll throw you in jail myself."

"Understood."

"I'll see you again a week from now. And I expect results or we'll be revisiting this conversation once more."

"Yes, ma'am."

"But for now," she said, and her voice softened as she turned to face the door. "You're free to go."

Okumura Haru was shaken, and it didn't get any better when the Metaverse went back to reality and they were in the plaza once again. "Ugh," she said, sinking to her knees. "Why does it feel like this?"

"Senpai! Are you alright?!" Ann hurried over and rubbed her shoulders. "Hey. Hey. It's okay."

Okumura stared up at the tower behind them. It was evening already. "That wasn't a dream, was it? Oh, Morgana - you're a cat again."

"That's me," Morgana said dully. Okumura petted him on the head, and he brushed face against her knees.

"What we experienced earlier," said Yusuke, "was the manifestation of your father's distorted desires made flesh."

Or metal, Futaba thought.

"Oh." Okumura pressed her palms against her temples as Ann helped her up. "That... makes sense, I think. The robots did have Big Bang Burger logos on them."

"Look," said Ryuji. "We kind of have to jet right now since we have more friends in trouble. But we can explain everything to you tomorrow after school. It'll make sense when all of us are here, I swear."

"Yeah," said Futaba. "Sorry to cut things short here, but we're not the best at explaining things on our own. Akechi always did it best, and - "

"Akechi-kun's involved?" Okumura said, getting up. "He's one of you too?"

Oh yeah. She'd forgotten they were friends.

"And Makoto. Don't forget about her," Morgana said, padding to Futaba's side. She scooped him up.

"Cheer up, goober," she mumbled, and the cat lay his head down against her arm.

"The least we can do is take you home," said Yusuke. "Where is your address?"

Okumura shook her head. "I live right here."

"What, in an office building?"

"At the penthouse, with Father." She bit her lip. "I... never thought his inner self was so heartless. He really thinks of everyone at Okumura Foods like that? Including me?"

"It's terrible," said Ann. "But it's also why we do what we do. We can change his heart so he won't hurt people like that anymore."

"You can? Oh, thank you! Maybe then - " Okumura stopped, flush bright on her face. "I'm so sorry. You all have somewhere to go, don't you?"

"Sorry," said Futaba. "But in your defense, Akechi will probably say some shit like 'come with us, Okumura-san! It'll be so much better if you beat the crap out of your father yourself, tee hee!' ... or something like that."

"He wouldn't say the word crap," said Ryuji. "Come on."

"He did use the F-word with me back in Isshiki-san's Palace," said Yusuke.

"You're shitting me."

"Shut up already!" Ann glared. "We'll see you tomorrow, senpai. Get home safe."

"Yes. Of course." Okumura bowed. "Have a good evening."

She turned on unsteady feet, and they watched her until she entered the building and could no longer be seen.

"I guess that's that, then," said Ryuji.

"Luckily it wasn't as bad as we thought." Ann sighed. "You really did give us a scare, Morgana."

"I know." The cat buried his face further into Futaba's embrace. "Sorry."

"Eh. I think our little soot sprite's had enough adventure for one day," she said. "Yusuke, has Akechi called you back yet? Maybe he and Makoto are out already."

"I have his phone, unfortunately," Yusuke said, taking it out. He frowned. "Five missed calls."

"From Sojiro?"

"No." Yusuke's gaze slid upward to meet her eyes. "From Kurusu Akira."

And as if the devil's name itself had been spoken aloud, the screen of Akechi's phone lit up.

"It's him," said Yusuke, and pressed the answer button.

"Goro!" Makoto flung arms around him the minute he stepped out. "Thank goodness you're fine. Was sis too hard on you?"

Goro closed arms around her waist awkwardly. "No, no. Actually, I think it turned out pretty well."

"If you say so," said Nijima, leaning by the doorway behind them.

"Oh!" Makoto disengaged at once. "Sorry, I didn't realize - "

"It's fine. You two are friends, after all." Nijima looked... warmer now. Less on guard. It made Goro wonder.

"Well," she said, puncturing their good mood right after. "You're not off the hook yet. I'll still have to question the rest of your friends. Hopefully their stories will verify yours, or we'll be in trouble. Mostly you." She smiled.

"Of course." Makoto smoothed over her skirt, all propriety again.

"It's just procedure," Nijima said. "I hope you understand I mean nothing by it."

"Not at all," Goro agreed. "Just business."

"Good. I'll contact you all individually over the next few days, but since you seem quite close there's one of you I'd like to get in touch with as soon as possible."

"And that would be..."

"Kitagawa," said Nijima. "I would have gotten him today, but somehow it seemed vulgar to take in a boy with no guardian for questioning, considering what happened today."

... really. What about Goro then.

"Why Yusuke?" said Makoto. "Wait, are you going to question him over the Madarame case? You're not even on it anymore, sis - "

"Makoto, it's not about that," Nijima interrupted, then stopped. "Wait. Do you not even know?"

"Know what?" said Goro.

"That's right." Nijima's shoulders sagged. "You just came back from your school trip today. All of you. God, that boy - "

"Sis! Tell us what's wrong," said Makoto. "Why do you need to talk to Yusuke right away?"

Yusuke said into the phone, "Hello?"

Unbelievable. "Put him on speaker phone," Futaba demanded. "What does he want!"

"A moment," Yusuke said, then did so. "Yes, Kurusu-san, what do you want?"

"This isn't Akechi," the boy's distorted voice said. "Who am I talking to?"

"Kitagawa," said Yusuke.

"And me," said Futaba. "Isshiki, first year. What do you want with Akechi?"

"That's private. Where is he?"

"Goro's indisposed of at moment."

"Yeah," Ryuji said. "A freaking prosecutor woman came to Leblanc and took him and Makoto in for questioning - "

"What?" Heavy breathing. "A woman? You don't mean Sae-san?"

"As in, Nijima Sae," Futaba said. "You know her, private eye? Because they're probably being interrogated like hell right now."

"That's messed up. Why would she take them in - "

"We know, dude," said Ryuji. "So tell us what you wanna tell him already, and we'll tell him when we get him back later."

A heavy sigh. "I don't want Kitagawa to hear this."

"I beg your pardon," Yusuke said coldly.

"It's not like that. It's - "

"Just tell us already," said Ann. "Please."

"Earlier this morning," said Nijima Sae, "Madarame Ichiryusai committed suicide in holding. I'm sorry."

"Madarame was found dead in his cell today," said Kurusu. "And I think he was murdered."

Goro took the train ride back to Yongen in silence.

He didn't think, not even as the lights of the city passed over his eyes in the growing dark of night. The inside of his mouth was raw from picking at the skin there with his teeth. So were his nails.

The train stopped. People got off. It started moving again.

He didn't get it. But then again, this wasn't his game to get.

All the Phantom Thieves did was change the hearts of villains so they'd turn themselves into the law and confess their crimes.

What business was it of theirs what happened to such people after?

Madarame, dead.

Why?

He didn't know. At this point, would he ever?

The train stopped. People got off. It started moving again.

It was his stop. Oh.

He switched the next station over with lumbering feet, stayed on his feet so he wouldn't forget again.

The light in Leblanc was still on. Goro pushed through - the bell rang - and said, "Good evening."

The booths were full with the Thieves save for Makoto, who had gone home with her sister, all looking at him anxiously. Behind the counter stood Boss, and on the stool facing him, a silent Isshiki Wakaba.

"Come in, kid," said Boss. "Let's talk."

It was an hour's worth of questions and nearly two dozen cups of coffee before he was even allowed to breathe. "I'm fine," Goro said twenty times over before anyone would believe him. "Really, no one did anything to me. Nijima-san didn't even question me that much."

"Just say the word," said Futaba, "and I will destroy her."

"You're not doing that, Futaba," said Isshiki-san.

"Mom! But - "

"I'll get those men to have a change of heart in Mementos and confess," said Goro. "And then - "

"Why?" said Ryuji. "Why do you want to help her, man? She threatened to get you expelled - she even bullied Makoto into going along with her BS. We shouldn't lift a finger to save her ass."

"It's either that or she stays on our case," said Ann. "I hate to say it, but I think Senpai's right on this."

"When is he not?" Futaba grumbled. "Fine. I'm just - just glad you're okay."

"It would have been much worse if she'd thought you a suspect," said Isshiki-san. "Akechi-kun..."

"Yes?"

"This is about Shido, isn't it?"

Everyone's eyes were on him. "Yes," Goro admitted. "I told Nijima-san about him to get her to follow his scent instead. Whether it worked, I - "

"Stop," said Isshiki-san.

"I'm sorry?"

"You don't know what you're doing here," she said. "None of you. I've despised Shido for years, and you've seen how far that's taken me. He tried to have me killed, for God's sake. I know what's at stake. You - your Thieves work is valuable, yes, but you're stepping into a landmine here." She shook her head. "Stay out of this."

"You shouldn't be messing around with this stuff to begin with!" said Boss. "All this nonsense about the Metaverse - about changing hearts - nearly getting arrested - I didn't sign up for this when I took you in."

"Boss - " Goro stopped. The man's glasses were misting up.

Was he responsible for this too?

"Sakura-san," he said eventually. "I'm sorry."

"God damn it. I need a smoke."

"Sojiro," said Isshiki-san. "Wait - "

The bell rung.

"Great," said Futaba. "Now everyone's pissed."

Morgana padded over to Goro, jumped up on the stool next to his. "It's my fault," he said. "If I hadn't run - "

"No, no." Goro shook his head, reached across to stroke Morgana's fur. "Nijima-san was already waiting for us. You were just... frustrated, I guess, and - " He swallowed. "I suppose it's time to be honest now."

"What is it, senpai?" Ann said.

"Shi - Shido Masayoshi is my father," Goro said. "There. I said it."

In the silence of the Velvet Room, a pin dropped.

"No wonder." Isshiki Wakaba closed her eyes and turned away from him. "No wonder, then, that you're like this."

"And," said Goro. "He has a Palace."

Ann hugged him before she left, even patted his head like he was a child. "We're going to fix this," she said, as if the situation was fixable.

"Get some sleep," said Ryuji. "We'll talk more tomorrow, yeah?"

"Right." Goro smiled. "Thank you for being here, Ryuji."

"... did you think I wouldn't?" the boy said. "You seriously need to trust me more."

"Of course. See you."

Futaba came up and punched him lightly on the arm. "Damn it, Akechi, but you deserve better. To think you'd have a piece of shit like him for a dad - "

"He's not my father," Goro said. "Just... the man my mother was with when she had me."

"Yeah," the girl said. "Yeah, I get it. Come on, Mom."

The bell rung once, twice, thrice.

"I'll see you at home," said Morgana.

"Don't go too far."

"I won't. Not this time." The cat nuzzled his hand. "I guess we have a lot to talk about later."

"We do," Goro agreed, and opened the door for him.

Leaving only him, and Yusuke.

He hadn't said a single thing this whole time, hunched over in his seat far from everyone else, and when Goro approached he wondered if there was anything he could say to make it better.

Fortunately, with him fate never left it to chance. In a voice as thin as rice paper, Yusuke said, "I'm sorry about your father, Goro."

Goro sat down beside him. "I'm the one who should be apologizing to you. How are you doing?"