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Chapter Text

"Don't worry, I'll bring you your happiness. Pleasant dreams, for as many days or years as you may have."

Akira vaguely remembered those words echoing in his head. Hm...Who was that again...He turned to his side, dust falling off the blanket. He was tired. Wasn't there something he had to do? 

Something...He tried opening his eyes, but they felt too heavy.

Oh well.

He turned once more and went back to sleep. It didn't matter anyway. 

"Sojiro- Curry!" Futaba grinned, barging into the small cafe, everyone behind her laughing and talking. They wanted to celebrate Haru's and Makoto's graduation, so of course they had ended up in their "hideout".

Her mother smiled, siping her coffee in one of the barstools as Sojiro laughed, shaking his head as everyone poured in. For some reason, she felt her chest tighten a little when she saw her. Her eyes wandered away to the stairs to the attic - 

Wait.

Was that a bug? LeBlanc didn't have an attic - And sure enough, as she blinked in surprise, she only saw the wall. Weird. 

"You guys again? I'm going to have to start charging you if you keep freeloading like this." He laughed, along with Wakaba as he walked towards the small kitchen. 

"We're thankful for always treating us boss." Makoto smiled politely. Haru nodded cheerfully. 

"Perhaps it's time for us to start actually paying - we three are after all no longer highschoolers." Akechi hummed. 

"I-Is it possible to open a tab for later payment?" Yusuke looked away. "I am a little short on cash-" Sojiro laughed. 

"Forget it - I'm not charging my favourite regulars."

"AW, heck yeah! You're the best boss!" Ryuji shouted and almost everyone put a hand on their face. 

"Vulgar as always..." Morgana sighed taking a seat. 

"Oh, shut it-" 

"Come on you too!" Ann rolled her eyes. "No fighting on Haru's and Makoto's graduation party!" Haru giggled.

"Well, it certainly is in character for them to argue."

"There's no helping it huh?" Makoto sighed. Akechi grinned. 

"Idiots..." He mumbled. 

"What did you say!?" Both Morgana and Ryuji shouted at the same time, making everyone laugh.

Wakaba took the last sip of her coffee. 

"Well then - I have to get back to my work now." She said getting up, ruffling Futaba's hair. "See you later pumkin~"

"Mooooom" Futaba whined, fixing her hair. "You're embarrassing me!" Wakaba waved goodbye with a smile, exiting the cafe.

"Awww, Futaba, you're so cute!" Ann giggled. 

"Shut it!" She pouted.

"W-Well, no one is as beautiful as you Lady Ann-" Morgana started leaning against her, making Ryuji roll his eyes as Ann gave him a playful shove away. Kasumi nodded cheerfully. 

"You really are Futaba-senpai!" She immediately put a hand over her mouth. "Ah, I forgot! No formalities! I'm terribly sorry -" she started getting flustered. "What I mean -" She continued mumbling as everyone laughed and Sojiro passed plates of curry and hot coffee -and cocoa- for everyone.

"I'll leave you to celebrate then." He smiled as he went to leave. "Remember to -" he turned towards behind the counter, but stopped. "Huh. I could have sworn-" He shook his head, putting on his hat. "Well, nevermind. Just don't burn this place down while I'm gone, alright?" He left as everyone said various versions of "Yes boss!" 

Sometime later, the conversation had started to die down, as everyone had finished their food. Makoto was doing the dishes, Kasumi hovering over her. Futaba couldn't shake away the feeling that something was wrong. No scratch that - it definitely wasn't only her. Everyone looked uneasy. Makoto kept scrubbing the same dish with a worried look, Kasumi almost didn't finish her second plate and was now pacing the tiny kitchen, Akechi kept looking from his nearly empty cup to the wall in the back, back to his cup and back to the wall again with a puzzled look on his face. Ann, Ryuji, and Morgana kept turning towards an empty spot behind the counter as if to include someone who wasn't there, their grin dying down a little each time they did. Yusuke kept looking towards the entrance as if the secret to his next painting was somehow hidden in that small corner and Haru kept crossing and uncrossing her fingers, looking down her lap.

"H-Hey..." Futaba started. "So, um, is it just me or...something's wrong?" Everyone fell silent. Makoto closed the faucet. 

"So, it wasn't just me..." She turned towards everyone with a grim expression. Kasumi -why did it feel weird to call her Kasumi? That was her name, it's not weird to call people by their names- nodded hesitantly.

"I've had a rather peculiar feeling..." Yusuke said, straightening his stance. Ann uncrossed her legs with a sigh. 

"I-I think I feel it too." She admitted. 

"I didn't want to say anything in case I was the only one..." Haru said in almost a whisper. "But-" Ryuji sighed. 

"What the eff man?" He leaned back. "I thought I was the only one." Morgana crossed his arms.

"I hate to agree with Ryuji but...What is going on?"

"S-So, we're all feeling like something isn't right here?" Makoto mumbled. 

"It seems like it isn't a bug..." Futaba looked down. 

"Could it be 'cause you're, like, graduating? Life moving forward or whatever?" Ryuji offered. 

"That can't be..." Haru murmured. 

"Akehi's been awfully quiet," Yusuke said, everyone, turning towards him. He was still looking down at his cup but looked up at the mention of his name. 

"Sorry I-My head is killing me." He sighed. "I'll have to take my-" He blinked, as time seemed to slow down, the soft afternoon light that filtered through the windows dimming down as a golden butterfly appeared out of seemingly nowhere in the middle of their group "-leave..." his sentence died out as everyone stared at the fluttering insect. Everyone looked back and forth at it and each other, surprise clear on their face. 

"I-IS EVERYONE SEEING THAT THING?" Ryuji broke the silence first. 

"Though it's appearance is puzzling it posses a certain mystical beauty-"

"Shut it Inari!"

"I-I feel drawn to it..." Morgana almost purred. "What- I feel like I should know what this is but-" 

"Never mind that! It's moving towards the exit!" Ann shouted. Sure enough, the butterfly quickly flew towards the door, glimmering in the now dark room, before disappearing into a cloud of glittering golden dust as it touched the door. Which now had a soothing, blue glow coming from behind it. 

"Should we follow it?" Makoto asked. Everyone nodded, crowding towards the door, opening it without a second thought.

The next thing they knew they were falling. 

The world around them seemed to melt and shine, twisting and falling into columns of light. What was going on? 

"It's a pleasure to meet you." A voice, strong, but gentle and soothing at the same time rung around their heads. "I am Philemon. A dweller between consciousness and unconsciousness. People live by wearing different masks. You seem to have been forced to forget yours, but your will is strong enough to rewrite that reality. "  They felt a sharp pain around their head as their masks appeared. It was a familiar weight, yet it felt almost foreign.

Everything faded into blue light, a soft piano melody along with a singing voice sounding in the distance. A door appeared beneath them and dragged them in, almost unceremoniously. 

"Until we meet again." The voice echoed, one last time.

When each one had woken up this morning they didn't expect to end up falling through a glowing door to an entirely blue room. Blue ceiling, blue curtains, blue soft velvet  -thankfully - covering the floor. They had all ended up falling onto each other on a neat little pile, much to the amusement of a strange girl, holding a book. She stifled a laugh behind her gloved hand. A weird man was sitting in a blue -of course- chair behind the girl, hands crossed on a fortune-telling table, a man playing the piano and a woman singing standing on stage behind him. The man coughed, shooting a look to the girl, who was still trying not to laugh and she flushed with embarrassment as she did a small bow to them as they were trying to get up, without falling on each other again. 

"Welcome to the Velvet Room."

Chapter Text

Ideally, everyone would have gotten up swiftly and ask for an explanation. Ideally. 

In reality, it took them a few moments of stunned silence, followed by incomprehensible mumbling as they stumbled up, falling into each other, being disorientated messes. The fact that they wore their Phantom Thieve" disguises", which seem to flicker in and out of existence, especially Morgana's, whose entire body seemed to be unstable -wait, didn't he look different in the metaverse? When they entered it he would transform into...Into what?- didn't really help either.

When they finally spoke, it was just a few minutes of speaking over each other and arguing about it, until the girl shouted at them to be quiet, pulling out a fucking chainsaw, seemingly out of thin air. That did shut them up. The strange man shot her look, which made her pout, putting it away, mumbling something they couldn't make out. "I'm sure you all have questions." He said, chin resting on his hand.

Everyone shot each other a look that basically screamed NOT TO MENTION THE NOSE.

"Um, yeah, what the eff man?" Ryuji shouted first, breaking the short silence and earning a glare from the girl. The man let out a small chuckle. 

"Well, some explanation is in order - This is the Velvet Room, a place between dream and reality, mind and matter. You've been sent here to help you remember someone important." 

Huh?

Remember...Someone important...? Everyone looked at each other in confusion, a pain piercing their heads. 

The smell of coffee, a hand tugging nervously at unruly black bangs, a soft voice, rarely heard, but always knowing what to say, a slightly wrinkled school uniform, a pen twirling around long fingers, a confident smirk -

"We've been expecting your arrival." The man continues. "But first, some introductions are in order. My name is Igor." The man-Igor, apparently- gestured towards the girl. "This is my assistant." She smiled, adjusting the hold on the book to hold it with one hand and put the other on her chest. 

"My name is Lavenza - Even if you are not technically speaking my guests, I will aid your journey." she took a worried expression. "I wonder if your power will be enough to break the chains of -" she stopped. "Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself, but we've already met before, even if you have forgotten." 

Met before? When did they - Right. In the nurse's office, she was...Why she was there? Why were they there? Half of them didn't even go to Shujin-

Fooling around in Shujin's rooftop, laying in a slightly dusty attic, leaning in the building accessway watching the people pass by. A pair of hands shoved deeply into pockets. A slight slouch most of the time. A pair of fake fogged up roundish glasses. Red gloves and a red coat, gesturing confidently instructions, voice only slightly coloured with worry when fighting shadows. The same hands handing them sodas and patting them reassuringly in the safe rooms. 

A black and white mask.

Shit. 

"This is Nameless and Belladonna." The girl introduced the musicians but it went almost unnoticed as more memories swirled inside their heads. The small kind gestures. The small kind smiles, so different from the usually stoic expression or the cat-like smirks, that started out rare but became more and more common as the months passed. How could they have forgotten-

Igor smiled. "You seem to have started to recall him."

"Son of a bitch! What the hell did you - Where's Akira?!" Ryuji stomped his foot down, shouting, getting ready for a fight. 

"A Phantom Thief should have more tact" Morgana scoffed, his form still flickering, making everyone dizzy just by looking at him "But I have to agree with Skull. Where's our leader?" Igor had the same slightly amused expression, seemingly unaffected from all this, but Lavenza followed Ryuji's example, also stomping angrily.

"Are you insinuating that my Master would hurt him? Insolent -" She took a deep breath. "Harming him is-" she said in a calmer tone, a very angry glare still on her face. "-definitely out of the question!"

"Who would believe that?" Ann cried out. Yusuke nodded. 

"Certainly, this is rather suspicious. How are you expecting us to believe that people as weird as you aren't somehow involved in this?" Normally, Futaba would have started to tease him for calling other people weird, but instead, she just crouched down, letting out a choked sob, Makoto put a hand on her back, tears also in her eyes. Kasumi fidgeted uneasily, edging closer to Akechi who was clutching his head with one hand.

"I won't let you hurt any more of my friends!" Haru let out a confident-sounding shout, pointing forward with her axe, even if her legs were slightly shaking.

"Damn right we ain't!" The rest nodded along, getting it back together somewhat. Lavenza clicked her tongue. 

"You couldn't even come close to landing one hit-" Igor cleared his throat, making her stop with a pout. Most of the thieves reached at the same time to pull their masks, only to find them evaporate as their fingers touched. They looked over one another even more confused than before. What was going on?

"Remembering him was the first step to your fight against this fake world. But for your spirit of rebellion to ignite you must remember why you rebelled in the first place. You must remember yourselves and find the will to fight if you wish to save him" Igor said, the music behind rising. Lavenza gave them a sad smile. "I wonder if..." His voice trailed off before snapping his fingers, the Velvet Room fading away. "We will meet again soon." His voice was the last thing to disappear.

Almost as if waking up from a dream, they were sitting back at the cafe, as if nothing ever happened. The sun was still filtering from the windows, dust particles visible in the soft rays lighting up the small space. They all looked at each other, blinking slowly, silence falling heavy now the painfully empty space between the counter glaring at them like an open wound. Akechi got up first. 

"I'm leaving." He announced flatly. "This-" he gestured around vaguely, taking a sharp breath. "I need to investi-"

"How the eff can you just get up and leave now?!" Ryuji practically jumped up. "Don't you give a shit about Akira?"

"Ryuji-"Ann grabbed his arm, looking down with a sad expression. Futaba tried to speak but it ended up again in a sob she's been trying to hold. Makoto sighed. 

"He...He has a point. We need to think this through." 

"Mako-chan..."

"Like hell we do!" Ryuji cut Haru off. "We can just sit here while he's-" 

"We don't even know where he is Ryuji." Morgana sighed, crossing his arms. Yusuke nodded. 

"As much as it pains me to keep him waiting - we need intel." 

"We can just go and find those people again can't we?" Haru bit her lip, also getting up from her seat. "We can't leave him-" 

"Yeah!" Ann nodded. "He said we'll meet again soon or something right? Even if they won't tell us we will make them talk!" 

"I don't think it's going to be that easy," Kasumi said, glancing all over the room nervously. "I-I mean where would we even begin?" 

"They did say all that stuff about the conscious and unconscious or something, so it's gotta be the metaverse right?" Ann offered and Ryuji scratched the back of his head.

"What like a Palace or something?" Makoto hummed. 

"The metaverse is gone though isn't it? We..." She stopped the memories coming back slowly. "We haven't been able to access the nav since Christmas." Morgana nodded. 

"I don't think it's a Palace. It felt...Different. I feel like I-" he sighed, making a small pause "Nevermind. It just isn't."

"That place...Felt almost as if stepping into a dream." Yusuke hummed.

"Right. Furthermore, there's been something bugging me. That man -Igor- said we needed to remember ourselves did he not?" Akechi tapped his chin. Makoto nodded. 

"I was actually wondering about that too." 

"We all admitted to feeling something off earlier but you can't mean that-" Haru started, not finishing her sentence.

"I have...I have a feeling I don't want to remember." Kasumi tugged the edge of her skirt. Everyone felt silent. They had the same feeling in their gut. 

"Who cares!? It's probably a trick or some shit, right? There's no way..."Ryuji trailed off "Dammit!" He shouted silence falling once again, only Futaba's occasional sniffles breaking it. 

"...it's not gone." she said in almost a whisper. Everyone looked at her as she lifted her head from her phone turning the screen towards them. "The meta-The nav appeared again." Everyone immediately reached for their phones taking them out. Sure enough, the red icon floated for a moment before appearing on the screen. 

"How could this be?" Yusuke asked. 

"No effing way! We destroyed it!" Ryuji shouted.

"If a place like that Velvet Room room exists then it's not improbable that the metaverse is back as well." Akechi said, finger hovering over the app, not opening it still. 

"Do you think this means senpai-" Kasumi looked down. 

"You don't think that he-" Haru put a hand over her mouth. 

"No-No way..." Ann let out a nervous laugh.

"I don't want to try it...I don't even want to think about it but-" Makoto started

"All the evidence point to it right?" Akechi finished her thought. 

"You guys ain't seriously thinking of putting his name in the nav right? He has a persona, how can he have a palace or even a shadow at the same time?" Ryuji looked at them, eyes wide. "Com'on guys it's Akira we're talking about!" 

"Normally, it wouldn't be possible for a persona user to have a palace but Akira has...Always been a special case." Morgana sighed and Ann sniffled. 

"I can't believe it. Why would he-" she stopped voice breaking.

"Th-There's one way to find out. I can't believe it, but...But if he has a Palace it must-It must be like-" she paused. Like what? Her...Her tomb? What does that mean? She shook her head. That didn't make any sense. There were more important things to focus on. "Even that creepy nose guy even said-we need to save him. He must be waiting for us and-" she paused wiping her eyes. "I haven't been trying just to let him down! We will save him!" Everyone nodded, smiles creeping back on their faces.


Futaba took a deep breath and spoke into the microphone as clearly as she could. "Akira Kurusu." Everyone held their breaths. It felt like an eternity but a moment later the app let out a brief beeping sound. The mechanical voice echoed unnaturally loud.

"Candidate found."

Chapter Text

The hit on the navi if anything, just made everything worse. The place practically erupted with another round of arguing, along with trying -and failing- random keywords. The search history was wiped too - except a seemingly glitched entry. Eventually, they agreed to meet up again the next day, after they calmed down and thought individually about what exactly they should do, since this was going absolutely nowhere. 

Futaba didn't sleep that night. She came home and skipped dinner, muttering something about eating too many snacks with the others so she wasn't hungry when she'd asked Sojiro if he remembered Akira and he just shrugged, thinking for a second before replying no and asking if he was one of her online friends or characters in those animes she watched, because it sounded familiar. She had just sighed and said told him to nevermind, before going to her room. Morgana skipped dinner too, following up with the same excuse and spend a few hours assembling and disassembling a smoke bomb, almost giving instructions on every step and thinking before falling asleep. Sojiro seemed a little worried but didn't really comment on it, chalking it up to being nervous about their friends and Futaba starting school at Shujin. 

Futaba eventually got up from her bed around 5 in the morning and binged some episodes of a new anime she had been meaning to see, frowning a little. The plot of the new season was entirely expected, not bad but -it just felt dull. Like someone had stalked the forum posts, picked up the most popular ones, and just fumbled around with trying to incorporate all of them. No twists, no innovation...Boring! She sighed looking at her phone. It was around 7 am. A normal enough time to wake up. 

She made her way downstairs, only to find Sojiro and her mom sleeping peacefully on the couch, a -probably empty- bottle of hard alcohol between them. She snickered behind her hand. Seriously this wasn't -or was? It felt out of place somehow- the first time they had a drink "for old time's sake" that turned into one too many, talking into the night, Wakaba forgetting her work for a while. 

Stealth mission go!

Futaba still smiled, tip-toeing closer to the pair. She grabbed two throw pillows from the floor and took a deep breath. 

"HEY MOM, SOJIRO, IT'S 7 AM ALREADY ONE OF YOU HAS TO GET UP AND FEED ME!" she shouted, throwing the pillows and missing -by a whole lot. She made a face when one of them knocked over a lamp, that thankfully didn't break. Oops. That would be penalty points, thus bringing down her mission from an S to an A rating, at least. Her aim wasn't good apparently without her persona backing her up.

Sojiro immediately shot up, wide awake but still confused from being woken up like this and the sound of furniture falling, while Wakaba barely stirred. 

"Huh? - Jeez, Futaba! Don't throw things like that, you're going to get hurt!" he sighed and rubbed his neck while she mumbled an apology.

"How are you even up so early?" Wakaba mumbled from the couch. Futaba crossed her arms

"Hey, I'm going to be a high school student! I gotta get used to the normie way of leaving." she chuckled and Sojiro ruffled her hair.

"Seriously, you're going to give me a heart attack someday." Futaba just grinned and hugged him. 

"What's with all the noise?" Morgana rubbed his eyes, coming out of the...spare bedroom. That always existed. Huh. At least he looked confused too.

" 'Taba woke up early for once." Wakaba hugged a pillow, waking up slowly. Futaba pulled away from Sojiro. 

"Yes! And I hunger! Sojirooo! Breakfast!" Sojiro laughed.

"If you're going to be a high schooler shouldn't you start making your own food? I have to open up shop too..."

"Breakfast! Breakfast!" Wakaba raised her hand, cheering from the couch, the thought of food and coffee suddenly snapping her awake and Futaba joined her cheer excitedly before jumping with her on the couch. Morgana shook his head, muttering something about proper behavior and respecting the boss, but couldn't hide the grin on his face. Sojiro sighed again before letting out a small laugh.

"Fine, fine - but you guys are cleaning up after."

Futaba absentmindedly sets the table for just two people. Morgana doesn't find it weird either. After all, Wakaba Isshiki is dead?? and he's not really-??

Ann took a long, hot shower as soon as she returned home, wore her fluffiest, comfiest, girliest pajamas, and called Shiho, talking about nothing and everything, trying to take her mind off it for a while.

"Are you alright Ann? You sound a little down." she said after a little and Ann blinked in surprise, letting the towel she was wiping her hair with while chatting with her fall on her shoulders. She stayed silent for a minute, playing with a lock of hair, frowning a little. 

"It's nothing, really!" she awkwardly laughed. Shiho didn't sound convinced. 

"Are you sure?"  Ann pouted.

"Hey Shiho... Can I ask you something?" 

"Of course you can! What's going on?" 

"Well...Do you remember Akira?" Shiho let out a hum, thinking about it. 

"Akira? Hmm, I'm not sure..." Ann frowned a little. 

"You-You know, guy in my class, messy black hair, glasses, transferred last year?" 

"Sorry, not really. But well, we moved pretty early in the year, so probably I didn't get a chance to meet him." she could hear Shiho grinning through the phone. "Why? Does he have a crush on you?" Ann couldn't help but giggle. 

"Shihooo, stop teasing me!" Shiho laughed, saying she couldn't help it when she was so cute and Ann rolled her eyes, listening to her playful teasing. 

"Seriously though Ann, if anything happened you know I'm here, right? You can talk to me." Ann smiled. 

"I know. Thanks, Shiho." she sighed. "It's not that I don't want to...Kind of hard to explain though..."

"You're not hurt or anything, are you?" 

"What? No, no I'm fine, there's nothing happening to me, but -" she sighed again. 

"Hard to explain?" 

"Exactly." 

"Well...As long as you're okay, I won't press you. But if you get hurt or change your mind, I'm always going to be there for you." Ann sniffled, suddenly getting teary.

"Thanks Shiho. I love you." she heard Shiho giggle through the phone.

"Love you too." she said sweetly and Ann changed the subject about a magazine shoot she was supposed to go next week with Mika, letting her mind wander and jumping from one topic to another. Shiho was easy to talk to.

Shiho talks to her about her new volleyball coach -a woman named Rio, who was kind and strict and awkward- and Ann got a feeling of dread in her gut like something was supposed to go wrong -why would anything go wrong? She sounds so different than...who?- so strong she had to hang up.

"Yusuke?" Madarame's concerned voice snapped his thoughts out of his still blank sketchbook page, the frustrated scribbles he managed as soon as he came ripped and crumbled and thrown all across the room before he heard a voice in his head that sounded hauntingly familiar yelling at him for wasting paper on sentimentalities, so he settled for staring at the slightly off white page, examining the ridges and texture of the paper. "You seem unfocused, is something on your mind?"

"Ah, it's nothing Sensei." Yusuke smiled. "I didn't mean to make you worry." Madarame smiled back to him, seeming a little relieved.  

"Well, if you say so." he walked over and stood next to him, looking at the blank page and the discarded paper around for a few moments. "Having trouble with your next piece?" Yusuke frowned. 

"No, it's just-" he felt Madarame's hand on his shoulder and he felt himself freeze for a second -why?- before forcing himself to relax. "I'm worried about one of my friends. He has found himself in...quite a difficult situation, I'm afraid." Madarame hummed in thought. "I don't know how to help him." Yusuke admitted. "I don't know if I can help him." 

"I'm sure he's going to be fine with your support." He said encouragingly. "Just be careful not to get caught up in something dangerous."  Yusuke laughed. He was already involved in something dangerous, thinking of all the mementos missions and the...palaces...a gaudy golden museum with portraits of children with haunted empty gazes, the almost constant cold of his childhood, the-

"Yusuke? Are you alright?" Yusuke took a deep breath. 

"Sorry, Sensei I-" 

"If you're not feeling well you should rest." 

"I'm still not finished-" Madarame shook his head.

"Don't be absurd! Your health is more important than any art piece." He said and Yusuke could only nod.

Those words shouldn't feel out of place, Mada-Sensei was like a father to him, took him in and cared for him for years, but they did.

Haru changed into more comfortable clothes and headed right for her garden as soon as she got home. She picked up her ax -her real-world one- and started chopping wood, letting out frustrated shouts every once in a while. Chopping wood really was a good stress relief. 

"Haru!" her father calling for her snapped her out of her thoughts. She put her ax down, wiping her forehead as the man made his way over, letting out a small laugh. "I had a feeling I'd find you here." he frowned a little. "Though I must say, I wish you didn't run off to chop wood. It is-" Haru shifted nervously -completely unladylike and unbecoming of a girl of your status! Go inside and do something useful instead of wasting your time and the upbringing I gave you!- "-dangerous. I wouldn't want you getting hurt on accident." Haru blinked. Why did she think her loving father would say something like that?

"Sorry to worry you!" she smiled. "I just wanted to get some steam off." 

"Are you stressed about your future?" He put a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "You don't have to worry. You are a capable young lady and I'm going to be there to support and mentor you every step of the way." Haru hugged him. 

"Thank you, Father!" she pulled back quickly. "Ah! Sorry! I'm going to get you dirty-" Her father laughed. 

"No need to worry. But tell me, if you aren't worried about that..." he took a serious expression. "Don't tell me a boy hurt your feelings?" Haru giggled. 

"Well, not exactly-"

"I knew it! Tell me, what low-life tried to take advantage of my precious daughter!?"

"No, Father, it's nothing like that!" Haru waved her hands, blushing a little, feeling embarrassed. "It's a friend of mine, he's -" she looked down, pushing her sleeve. "It's a complicated situation, but he needs my help." Her father let out a relieved breath and smiled again.

"Well then, he's going to be alright. After all, I'm sure with you supporting him, he can overcome-" -failure at any cost, even if it means betraying others. Wait, what? Why- " - whatever problem he faces." Haru smiled. 

"Thank you, Father." 

"Of course. I will always support you and your choices, as long as you are safe and happy." He said before leaving to catch a meeting, promising they would celebrate her graduation properly later. She watched him silently until he disappeared.

Those words made her stomach twist for some reason.

Ryuji runs. He runs around his neighborhood, around the park a few blocks from his house, up and down the stairs in a small hill a tiny shrine was built, until he felt hot pain rising in his leg and he had to sit down, pain disappearing as suddenly as it appeared like he just imagined it. He let out a frustrated grunt, kicking the ground, trying to think. What was going on? It was that bastard's fault! He - Wait who? He did what? 

Ryuji splashed the water from his bottle to his face, clearing up his thoughts. Nevermind weird metaverse stuff that didn't make sense, Akira needed their help! How could he just let him be even a second longer, after everything he did for him? What? What did he do exactly? Something was missing, something, something, come on man, just think! 

Smarts were never his specialty. He believed what he saw, he didn't mull things over, he just did what he thought was best and right and things usually worked out, especially with his friends at his side. Waiting around just made him anxious.

"Sakamoto?" He looked up. Ah, some guy from the other class in his grade. He hang around with one of the guys in the track team, but they didn't really know each other that well. 

"Oh hey. Sup?" 

"Just coming home from cram school." he sighed. "Can you believe we're gonna be 3rd years?"

"Yeah, no kidding. Last year-" -Why did it feel like something horrible happened? - "-was a lot." he ended up saying. 

"Well, you don't really have to worry though, you'll probably get an athletic scholarship." he laughed. "Speaking of which, are you practicing for the track team?" Ryuji made a face. 

"Ehh, it's kind of a different thing." he shrugged. "I just like running, I guess." the other boy laughed.

"I guess I should have expected that from the track"-traitor?-"-team's star member!" Ryuji rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. What was that thought that popped in his head just now? 

"Aw, thanks, dude! Good luck with your studies!" the boy thanked him and he quickly left. Ryuji took a deep breath. Shit if they didn't do anything Akira would never get to even have his third year. He got up, tightened his laces and started running toward home. 

Eff what the others decided, there was no running away from this. He would do this alone if he had to. 

Somehow, it still felt like he was running away from something.

When Makoto stepped into her home, a party popper went out, confetti thrown all over her and she let out a yelp, jumping back and almost falling down before her father caught her with a laugh. 

"Suprise?" Sae said, looking a little guilty, holding the offending party popper in her hands. "I didn't think you would be that startled." 

"Sis, dad, what is all this?" she quickly got to her feet. "You both were supposed to be working until late today." 

"Just a small lie." Sae smiled gently and their father nodded with a smile. "We wanted to surprise you. Dad made your favorite for dinner." 

"Well -tried to." He said rubbing the back of his head. Makoto couldn't make out his face for a few moments, his characteristics blinking back into existence after a few moments. Why couldn't she remember her father's face for a second? "It definitely didn't turn out as good as when you cook." They all laughed.

They had dinner, gave her a graduation gift and sat down to watch a yakuza movie, Sae rolling her eyes at most of the over the top scenes and acting and their father urging her not to take it that seriously. Makoto would have loved the movie normally, but she couldn't stop the off feeling she had throughout dinner and kept glancing over at her father. She couldn't help but feel like he shouldn't be there but she couldn't place her finger on why. How could she think something like that about her own father?

Her father had fallen asleep midway through the movie. Sae had asked her then in a hushed tone if she was okay. Makoto smiled and replied she was just worried about university and couldn't believe she had graduated already. Sae didn't seem entirely convinced but didn't press her either, squeezing her hand encouragingly.

She couldn't be a burden to her sister, after all she was - Wait no, that wasn't right. Why would she feel like that? 

When the movie ended, both her sister and father were asleep on the couch. Makoto smiled softly, stifling a laugh before bringing a blanket and pulling it over them. She then kneeled in front of the small household shrine, whispering the news of her graduation, starting university and how a friend is in trouble, looking at the picture of her mother. For a second the image of a picture of her father next to it flashed in her mind and she put a hand over her mouth trying not to yelp as it blinked out of existence. 

She quickly got up and got ready for bed, not being able to shake the feeling that it was supposed to be there.

Kasumi stood in front of the door of her sister's room. She carefully eyed the nameplate, tracing the name written and the small decorative hearts and stars. K̶a̶s̶u̶m̶i̶ Sumire. It was identical to hers. Their rooms were right next to each other too. She was always just a breath away. Always next to her. Her cute, amazing older younger sister, always by her side. She had taken her for granted. She sighed, opening the door. Their parents had mostly emptied the room -she could understand that, it was too painful to think about herself sometimes too, but she missed her. She had kept a lot of her stuff in her room, to the point it felt like she had more of her stuff than hers, but well... She'd like to think she would like it. There was no point in them collecting dust after all.

She sat on the bed, softly running her fingers on the violet cover. 

Senpai had helped her so much to get over her death, to be strong, to achieve her dream of winning like she promised to do with her sister. How could she ever forget him? Even if it was some kind of cognitive??? magic, she didn't think she would simply forget an entire person's existence like that. She sighed and hugged hers sister's pillow. She was hoping it would smell like her, but she was long gone, wasn't she? 

It only smelt of dust.

Some days, she felt like she was more like her sister than her actual self. 

Kasumi sighed, closing the door behind her. 

She wouldn't let her precious senpai suffer, not while he helped her that much. Whatever happened she would help him. Like he helped her. 

Akechi did his best not to slam the door of his apartment as he went back. He did not remember Akira, due to an outside force. Sure, the others he had expected to fall victim but himself? There was no excuse to be this weak. The thing was, whoever was behind this -if it wasn't, of course, the people in the Velvet Room, he couldn't cross it out just yet, though he had a feeling it had something to do with that glitched entry- most likely did not just meddle with their memories of one single person. The question was why? And what exactly were they hiding from them?

So he forced himself to not freak out over the question of if it was even possible to fight against someone with such a power and how much of his life was real or not and started to write down everything he could remember that seemed important or out of place, especially since he had gotten his persona. 

It did not help him not to freak out completely, but at least it kept him busy. He organized them in piles, running out of space and using post-its and pages from school notebooks that he didn't get to write in before the year ended. He tried finding all if any common denominators. 

He threw his notes against the wall with a frustrated groan. 

He got up to make some coffee. He was about to put water in the coffee maker when he realized - the small paper bag of ground coffee Akira had given him and he didn't even remember it was from him until a few hours ago. It even had a "It's better than instant detective~" scribbled on the side that he just couldn't see before. He threw it away and pulled out the cheap instant coffee, heating up water and pouring it in a cup, stirring the powder more furiously and longer than it was necessary, making a face at the bad taste. Well, it wasn't like the one Akira had given him tasted anything like LeBlanc's either, but it really was better than instant. 

Fuck the taste, he just needed to stay awake. 

He chugged it, sitting back down and opening his laptop, searching online for anything regarding the "Velvet Room" -which ended up, as he expected, with only results about clubs or bars of...questionable at best quality, a weird knitting blog and some forum that seemed to be inactive since the early 2000s. 

The thing was - there was too many stuff that didn't exactly fit. The last few years of his life seemed to slip away when he tried to remember any details. There was something horribly wrong about it, like any memories from that period weren't his. Like he was forced to watch them through a projector. Which was just specific enough to get on his nerves. and make him paranoid. He tapped his fingers on the desk, before sighing and opening the bottom drawer. There was a photo of him and his mother, white lines forming on the material of how many times he had folded and unfolded it through the years. He traced his hand through the lines. It was probably summer, judging from the small dusting of freckles on his cheeks and the summer dress she was wearing. He froze, suddenly feeling cold sweat all over him.

He had a feeling she never had smiled that much when she was alive and it only made him drop the pic, run to the bathroom and threw up coffee and almost completely digested curry.

The next day at LeBlanc everyone looked...Like shit, actually. Sojiro had pressed them to talk, but no one did, so he just made them all coffee/cocoa and left. There was a heavy silence after the bell over the door stopped chiming with Sojiro's exit, everyone looking at each other. Akechi sighed. 

"Well, then, let's just cut the-" he tapped his fingers on the counter. Sleep deprivation and questioning your entire existence really were bad for focusing. "Let's get straight to it, shall we?" Makoto nodded.

"First of all, I believe this isn't a question of whether or not we're going to save Akira from whatever force is holding him. We're saving him and that's final." Everyone agreed and she smiled. "Good." she shifted nervously. "But, this isn't only about Akira. There's something wrong with the rest of the world around us too." Ryuji sighed. 

"Man this is effing complicated." he rubbed the back of his head. "I kinda get it though? I feel as if we're running away from somethin' "

"That is...Exactly how I feel, as well." Yusuke nodded in agreement. "I truly am happy with my current life. "However I cannot shake the feeling that this isn't..."

"I know what you mean - I was talking with Shiho yesterday and...I felt like something wrong had happened to her, but I couldn't even remember it." she let out a small laugh. "Maybe I'm just a shitty friend." Haru put her hands on Ann's shoulders. 

"Of course you aren't!" Haru sighed. "I...I understand how you feel as well. I was talking to my father and I...For a second I remembered him as a completely different person." Futaba hugged her knees and nodded. 

"There's something wrong with this world. There's no denying it. But - I'm scared." She pushed her head down. "I feel like my world is going to end if I try to fix it." 

"Futaba-" Makoto started. 

"So are all of you going to run away like cowards?" Akechi cut her off, scoffing. 

"Who are you calling a coward!?" Ryuji and Morgana said at the same time. 

"No way dude! I'm done running away!" Ryuji shouted and Morgana nodded. 

"I thought I was happy too, but - If this isn't real or it is at the cost of our leader- I just cannot accept it!" Morgana crossed his arms with a scowl. 

"I'm with Mona! I don't know what is going to happen but - want to feel the way I'm feeling now either!" Futaba shot her head up. 

"Yoshizawa has been awfully quiet." Akechi noted and everyone turned towards her. Kasumi was gripping the edges of her skirt.

"I have a feeling that I...I can't go back." She sighed. "Still, if it is to rescue him I-"

"Now, that's enough prying, isn't it?" A gentle voice echoed through the cozy shop and the world completely shifted around them. They were in a completely bleached white room, sitting in three -also stark white- sofas, arranged in a Π shape, a table filled with snacks -the only thing that had a speck of colour in the room- in the middle of them. A man, wearing an all-white suit, soft brown hair slicked back, was standing across from them, his back turned, staring at a golden garden outside a window. He closed the curtain and sighed. "Hello everyone." he turned around to face them, a small smile on his face. "I'd say it's nice to see you all again, although I wish it was under better circumstances." 

Chapter Text

There was a heavy silence for just a second before the group shot up from their seats, getting ready for a fight.

"There's no need for fighting - I wish you no harm." the man chuckled awkwardly. "Quite the opposite really."

"Man, what's with all these effin' weirdos appearing all of a sudden and tellin' us this ain't a fight!?" Ryuji sighed. Makoto raised her fist.

"Skull has a point - Who are you and why should we trust you? You talk as if we've met you before but-" she frowned. Akechi crooked his head.

"This seems like an awfully convenient way to make us drop our guards."

"Th-This guy feels super strong too! Like, final boss level!" Futaba warned them. The man just smiled softly.

"I'm glad you all seem to be starting to get along now." his expression saddened. "I wonder... If only I had this power sooner..."

" 'This power?' What are you talking about?" Yusuke questioned and the man waved his hand dismissively, letting out a small awkward laugh.

"It's nothing. Please don't worry about it." he took a deep breath, fixing his glasses. "More importantly, it pains me to see you trying to reject this reality again. Aren't you happy without things are? I could try and make some improvements-"

"Huh? Then y-you mean...You're-" Ann blinked in surprise, stepping back.

"You're the one messing with our memories!" Morgana finished it for her.

"Then - you must be behind senpai's disappearance too!" Kasumi added.

"I must say - I was surprised you were able to remember him. Then again, he is a pretty exceptional person." The man replied, as sharp pain flared in their heads, pieces of memories trying to come to the surface of their subconscious.

"Is this your doing?" Haru grabbed her head.

"You piece of shit-"

"Who are you?" Kasumi cut Akechi's treat off, biting her lip. "I-I feel like I know-"

"I...It doesn't matter. It's not important." He shook his head. "What's important is to make sure you get your happiness. For his sake too, I-"

"Bullshit! Where is he?" Ryuji shouted and the man shook his head.

"I am sorry, but this is what's best for him. I couldn't let him suffer anymore."

"So you admit - you're the one behind this?" Makoto glared at him

"You're really the reason Joker's-?" Kasumi fidgeted. "But...You're not the kind of person who-" she mumbled the last part, another sharp pain in her head making her stop. The man frowned.

"Really, this is what's best for him - Akira was suffering. I just made sure he didn't have to any longer."

"So you decided to take him out of his misery?!" Haru almost shouted. "That's-"

"N-No, you misunderstood - I can assure you, he is perfectly safe and happy!" The man quickly replied. "Isn't that what you want for him?"

"We want him back you asshole!" Ann said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry I...I can't do that." He sounded really remorseful for some reason. "I wish there was a better way, but you already prooved you-" He cut himself off. "No, it doesn't matter."

"Why not? Are you afraid we're going to try and oppose you?" Morgana narrowed his eyes. "I'm sorry, but the Phantom Thieves will be taking their leader back, whether you like it or not!" He turned to the rest of the group. "Isn't that right everyone?!" They all nodded.

"Then it's a unanimous decision." Yusuke hummed.

"E-Exactly! Sorry, creepy cult looking guy but we're saving Akira-" Futaba started but was cut off by a small chuckle.

"Ah, sorry, but you don't really have the power to oppose me as you are. I have absolutely no intention of making him suffer like that again. I truly only wish for his -and yours of course- happiness. A half-hearted decision like that will only bring you pain!"

"Cut the bullshit!" Ryuji shouted. "You're just sayin' that 'cause your scared!"

"Are you saying we're at fault!?" Yusuke said, eyes widening in shock.

"Where is he?" Makoto asked, "If you really thought this is what's best for him you wouldn't have to hide him from us now, would you?"

"Alright. I bring you to him." The man let out a resigned breath. "I don't want you to feel like I'm holding him hostage, but-"

"Oh, but isn't this exactly what you're doing?" Akechi crossed his arms. "You can try and spin this however you want, but in the end, you quite literally are holding him hostage" The man stared at him for a second, his expression filled with...something he couldn't quite place, before turning around waving his hand and the world started to shift once again.

They were in a dusty attic -dusty dark floorboards, dusty beams, dusty furniture and window. Everything seemed to be covered in a thick layer of dust, cobwebs spun in almost every corner of the room. Small trinkets and souvenirs in the selves were covered in a grey layer so thick it almost looked like they too were covered in cobwebs. Their every small movement as they looked around sent a cloud of dust into the previously stagnant air, dust particles spinning in the ray of light coming from the window. The only things that seemed to be free of dust where a potted plant -that was miraculously still alive- and the mattress propped up with crates under the window.

A large, tentacle-like tendril pulled back, revealing a sleeping form, everyone rushing in beside him recognizing Akira.

When he was asleep he was almost still as a corpse. It was weird to see the boy with so much passion, that looked like he could single-handedly pull the sun out of the sky if he put his mind into it, still keeping his smirk look so...lifeless. If it wasn't for the rhythmic fall and rise of his chest, they would have thought he was dead.

"Don't worry-" the man spoke, as if he had read their thoughts, a reassuring smile on his face. "He is just sleeping. He doesn't have to burden himself with all the responsibility the world forced on him. And I'm going to make sure he keeps having pleasant dreams for as long as he is alive."

Akira heard voices shouting. He slowly stirred, not able to pay attention to the weirdly familiar voices, pulling the blanket over his head.

"Wake up! Please just get up! Joker!"

He didn't want to get up. He was so tired. It was better staying like this....instead of...

"See? - Nothing to worry about. He is-" a gentle sounding voice echoed through the shouting.

"How the hell can you say that!" he felt someone shaking him and he let out a small groan.

"Akira!" Someone...Someone was calling out to him. He knew that voice but- "Wake up!"

" 'm tired..." he mumbled, feeling his throat dry and scratchy. It was true. He was just so tired of...Of what? Probably didn't matter... He just wanted to get back to sleep. He had this feeling as if he was about to reach the best part of a dream, slipping just out of his reach as he woke up.

"No, you- You gotta get up, you hear me!?" He was being pulled up in a sitting position, but he couldn't bring himself to care enough to support his own weight, slumping against the hold.

"How can you say he's fine when he can't even-" a small relieved sob cut whoever spoke off as Akira slowly blinked a few times, trying to make sense of his surroundings. There were people all around him, talking to..him probably...He squinted trying to concentrate. They...They were his friends. What-?

"What's going on...Why is everyone...?" He managed to mumble, eyelids closing again. They felt so heavy. There's so more shouting towards...-Doctor Maruki? What was he doing here?- and he feels a soothing hand on his back, leaning into it unconsciously, almost already asleep again.

"I don't want to do this but maybe if I temporarily...Maybe this will convince you." Akira heard Maruki's voice before he felt something twist inside his mind, thoughts clicking suddenly into place and he shot up in a panic.

Shit.

Even with the weird powers of the metaverse, where enemies twisted their emotions and shot them into complete panic or fear for a while, they haven't really seen Akira looking so panicked. However, none of them could exactly react to it as their memories fully returned, pieces of a reality that wasn't there anymore finally fitting together like puzzle pieces, hitting them like a wave, busting into blue flames for a second as they returned to themselves. Akira's eyes widened as he scrambled up, wobbling on unsteady feet, muttering something under his breath before his gaze snapped up to the man.

"-The dead-" he took a deep breath. "-What happened with the..." he looked around at everyone before his voice cracked with desperation. "Give us more time, I can't - I can't choose, please don't make me - I can't force them to-" A flick of Maruki's hand and his eyes glazed over again, slumping on one of those tendrils that seemed to have materialized out of thin air, setting him on the bed once again.

"It's alright," Maruki spoke gently as Akira's eyes fluttered, fighting to stay awake. "You don't have to fight anymore. I'll make sure everyone is happy while you're asleep."

"I...have to..." he tried to speak, voice barely above a whisper, vaguely aware someone was calling out to him again. Everything felt...fuzzy and out of reach...He tried to get up, but everything felt so heavy. "I'm so tired." he managed before everything turned to black.

Maruki let out a small sigh.

"I really didn't want to do this. Showing you all your painful memories... Isn't it better to live without them?" The world shifted and they were now in the garden they saw earlier outside the window. He smiled gently at them, summoning a large number of tendrils, closing in on them slowly. "You can move forward in your lives without the burden society has forced upon you. You can finally be-"

All that shadow battling had made them good at wordless communication, even if they were still numb with shock - before Maruki could finish his sentence Haru brutally cut down tendrils with her ax, the sword carrying members following her lead, giving time to Ann and Ryuji to grab Futaba and Morgana to transform into a car, Makoto climbing in the driver's seat, the rest behind her, still fighting. Maruki shook his head.

"Running won't do any good!" he shouted behind them, but didn't follow them himself -for now- "I don't want to fight! I just want to help you!" he summoned shadows that started chasing after them, Makoto desperately hitting the gas to make them go faster -even if it made Mona let out a pained yowl and her muttering a small sorry in response.

"We need to leave now!" she followed her apology.

"This is as fast as I can go!-" Morgana mewed and Ryuji turned to glare at Akechi.

"Maybe we need to lose some dead weight."  Akechi narrowed his eyes, almost looking as if he wasn't going to reply for a second.

"Oh, screw you-"

"This isn't the time to be fighting!" Ann reprimanded them. "If anything the ones who should be-" she didn't finish her thought, looking at the way Haru had clenched her hands in her lap, shaking, face hidden by the brim of her hat and how Futaba's eyes were filled with tears as she tapped furiously at a projection of a screen, trying to find a route out.

"It-it's...No way out!" She yelped.

"What? This shouldn't be possible-" Yusuke gasped, leaning over to look, making Futaba shove him away lightly.

Sumire quickly pulled her phone out, tapping the metanav, trying to exit. In their horror, the app seemed to be completely unresponsive when trying to get out.

"I-It's really not letting us leave!"

"Maruki seems to have complete control over this reality then. He really meant it when he said running won't do us any good." Morgana sighed.

"Then is it really hopeless...We have to fight..." Makoto bit her lip.

"No effin' way! I'm not going back to this shit - and I'm not leaving Ak-Joker to rot here!" Ryuji stomped his foot, making Morgana yelp again.

"Senpai's name is still on the nav." Sumire mumbled.

"You're suggesting we leave by entering his palace?" Yusuke blinked in surprise.

"That could work." Akechi hummed, taking out his phone as well.

"W-Wait a second!-We don't know if this is going to be dangerous or even possible!" Makoto looked at them from the rearview mirror.

"No choice - we're running out of places to-" Morgana yelped, almost hitting into a wall as they reached the lab and de-transforming. "RUN!"
They started running out of the garden, the shadows closing in behind them.

"Akira Kurusu, maruki's reality?"

"Candidate-"

"What could his distortion be? A castle? A jail? A holding cell?"

"Conditions have not-"

"Nope, not a hit..."

"A stadium? A theatre? A-"

"Be serious about this!" Ann shouted, barely avoiding an attack.

"What about a dream? Since he is sleeping and all...Probably closer to a nightmare though..." Futaba mumbled.

"Result found-"

"Wait - for real?-"

"Beginning Navigation."

If it wasn't for the bizarre scenery around them, they would have thought they were still mid-way through entering another part of the metaverse. Everything was wrapped in an unnatural red light, almost as if a thick red smog had enveloped everything, giving it a harsh red hue. They panted from their almost escape, a few dropping on the cracked ground.

"...I thought we weren't going to make it for a second." Yusuke breathed out.

"More importantly...Is this Akira's distortion?" Makoto's worried tone as they looked around made them all turn their heads.
It...looked a little like Tokyo, probably. The large, high-rise buildings seemed to twist almost endlessly into a distorted red sky, their glass windows reflecting red light. Around them were huge, dark thorny vines, most of them twisting along the ground, seemingly sprouting from...

"Holy shit-"  Ryuji mumbled as everyone slowly got up to their feet.

Behind a high, ornate metal fence, wrapped in smaller vines and flowers, towered a large, dark castle, seemingly supported by the vines that sprouted from its base. The only light was coming from a small window in the tallest tower -and the unnaturally huge, bloody moon looming behind it.

They would continue staring at it if it wasn't for a small sob coming from Haru who was still on the ground.

"Noir..." Makoto called out to her as Futaba fidgeted closer to Ryuji. She looked up at them, trying to compose her self.

The thing about Haru was that she looked so small and delicate - soft curls and big eyes, puffy sleeves, skirts and pretty pastels- that even in the metaverse, seeing her tearing shadows apart with her ax, it was easy to forget just how much of a punch she could actually pack. Her glare as she got up, taking a shaky breath, eyes shining with tears and pure rage were enough of a reminder.

"You tried to kill Akira... You killed my father," she said in almost a whisper, before taking another breath and a small step forward. "YOU KILLED MY FATHER YOU-"

The punch connecting on Akechi's cheek came to fast for even Haru to realize she had thrown it, judging from the way her expression changed into shock, making him stumble a few steps back from the impact alone bringing a hand to his face. Akechi's eyes narrowed.

"I probably deserved that." he chuckled. "Still- Get over yourselves. Okumura was a terrible fucking person." he could barely register the others shouting at him, "Oh shut up!" he snarled back, waving his arm before looking back to Haru. "Did you think he deserved to live just because he was your father? Do you even know just how many people he asked to be killed for his gains? How many people he overworked to death just for profit?"

"Even so, you have no right to sp-"

"He didn't even care about you! You're just sad because you're clinging to this pathetic imitation of your father that didn't whore you out for-"

A burst of almost ominous-sounding laughter cut their arguing off, followed by loud clapping.

"Oh, this is just-" A distorted voice echoed around them, trying to suppress another fit of laughter. "This is too much!" A thorny vine suddenly descended closer to them, a dark silhouette sitting on it cross-legged, its yellow eyes glimmering in the dark red fog. "I mean, I knew you wouldn't last a day without me, but this-?" The voice started laughing again, jumping down from the vine and striking a fancy pose in the landing with a confident smirk, which twisted into a sinister-looking smile as he stood up, looking at them with a smug look.

"Joker!?"

It certainly looked like him, although - His costume was ripped and tattered, the sleeves of his coat torn off, revealing bloody gashes around his arms. Some vines were still wrapped around his limbs, digging harshly into the skin and he was wearing a pair of shackles in his wrists, the chains cut off. Instead of gloves, his hands seemed to be bared and clawed, dripping with some kind of black ooze, like the one dripping from shadows before revealing their true forms. There were even thorny vines with a few red flowers wrapped like a crown around his head and a small pair of broken horns peaking over his messy dark locks. Blooming vines were also wrapped around some sort of bones protruding from his back, looking like a singular, broken bat-like wing, pieces of tattered dark cloth or skin hanging loosely from it.

The worst was his face. Instead of his signature mask, there was a piece of white patchwork, sloppily stitched against the skin, dried blood mixing with new as it slowly oozed more red. Around his eyes, there was dark make-up, drawn to resemble the pattern of the mask, smudged and leaving black tear-tracks on the skin.

The creature waved at them.

"Something like that." he let out a small chuckle, putting his hands in his pockets before continuing in a sing-song voice. "Now, please tell me, everyone - How did you manage to fuck up living in a literal utopia that you had to crawl back to me again?"

Here's some concept art as a bonus!

The palace:

Shadow Joker (?):

Chapter Text

Stunned silence. 

Whatever they expected -or didn't expect really, imagining how parts of Akira's subconscious would take form wasn't really the first thing in everyone's minds- it wasn't that...thing.

The shadow seemed to pick up on it too, tilting his head with smile. 

"Aw. Cat's got your tongue?" he almost chirped. Like a bird. “Wow, really? I'm not even going to get Mona's lame I'm not a cat bit?” his voice drawled. “Not a single word of comfort... No dramatic vows of friendship? No one-liners? No... emotionally overwrought battle cry?” He stood across them, spotlighted by a jagged pillar of red light that shimmered like static...him, but not him. Not quite. Akira always had a...melody, almost in his voice. Soft hums, pauses, the way he paused in between or dragged out some words. The way he fidgeted with objects, tapped his pen to the desk, they all had some short of rhythm. A place. Like the were all deliberate. The shadow... It talked a lot, and it had the same kind of echo, a gruff static most shadows had, but felt...off. In its tone.In its movement. Off key. Like a CD skipping. Or a corrupted file.

Shadow Akira smirked, arms spread wide, like it was inviting them to say SOMETHING, anything, before doing an groan, rolling his eyes and letting them fall to his sides like a ragdoll.

“I mean, if I had just found out my dear friend was practically lobotomized and put on sleep mode like a broken Tamagotchi, I’d at least say something.” He tilted his head. The movement was smooth, deliberate. Almost birdlike. Too fluid to be human anyway. “But noooo,” he went on. “Too stunned to speak. What a shocker. I have to do this on by myself too then?" it rolled his eyes, moving his hand around, taking a deep breath before continuing, snapping its fingers and pointing at Skull.

"Ryuji -wait for it - you’re gonna call me a bastard and that I'm nothing like Akira or something any second now. Ann will gasp, Futaba will hide behind Yusuke, and Morgana will... oh, right, Mona will try to posture like he’s in charge. Again.” He tapped his foot impatiently “Come on, let’s get it over with. You all practiced this, right?” he laughed. "How else were you doing the same shit every time?"

Still, no one spoke. They looked at each other, they moved a tiny bit. But - what was there to say even?

He let out a long, exaggerated sigh, dragging his hand down his face, then flicking his fingers outward like he could physically shake off the disappointment. Then took a step forward, boots echoing “I should have known. You can’t even show up to a fight like this unless someone else-me-calls the meeting.” Another step. He crouched slightly to meet their gazes, all mock concern. “Too overwhelmed? Aw. Poor babies. You didn't expect me to talk now, did you?” He snapped upright again, grinning sharp enough to cut glass. “Well, he doesn't get to talk. So someone has to.”

He began to pace. Slow, lazy steps that curved like a cat sizing up a room and everyone in it.

“Let me guess again,” he muttered, chin tilted toward the red sky. “Makoto’s compiling theories. Haru’s smiling through a panic attack. Kasumi’s still trying to decide if she’s even allowed to be here.” He turned on a heel, pivoting sharply to face them again. “And Akechi… well. You don’t count.” Akechi tensed and the shadow chuckled.
“Oh sorry, did that strike a nerve? I forgot how sensitive you all are.” Shadow Akira grinned, then shifted suddenly into a mock-heroic pose, one hand clutched to his chest, the other extended toward the imaginary horizon.

“‘We’re your friends! We believe in you!’” He dropped the pose just as quickly,smile vanishing. It's voice was distorted. Off-pitch. More echo-y like it was trying to imitate a group. “"Come on, let's get his over with people!" it clapped. "It's a simple, simple routine - I say all that shit, you say some other corny shit like that, I kick your ass and you can go back to whatever ecstasy fueled daydream that controlling freak has planned for you. With you three graduating, he's probably going start to pairing y'all up soon too. Don't want to miss the exciting high school romance after all!" it laughed. "Do you think he's thinking about this and being all serious, contemplating which is the best choice for each of you or is it more like a throwing barbie dolls together kind of situation?"

"What are you even talking about-?" the shadow didn't respond, just laughed, waving its hand

"Doesn't matter, doesn't matter - you'll be happy anyways, riiiight? You don't have to chose! Just let someone else do it! Who even cares, right? I mean, when it mattered, when I needed you to make the hard choice...well, what did you do?” His voice sharpened, eyes glinting. “Nothing. You waited for me, for him, to decide. You always wait for me to be responsible for your little fuck ups.”

No one dared answer. Ryuji looked like he wanted to, but his fists only clenched at his sides.

“You keep expecting me to carry the weight of your lives. Of this life.” He jabbed a finger toward the ground. “Every time. But when the world was crumbling and he had to decide who to save, who to hurt...” His hand curled into a fist. “You didn’t stop me. You didn’t help me. You just looked at me. And did nothing." He stared at them. "And you won't do nothing now either. You can't even find the guts to face me when I'm insulting you to your faces-" Morgana took a step forward.

“That’s not true-!” the shadow rolled it's eyes, as if he was waiting for a better answer.

“Oh, sure." he started pacing again. Circling. "Say that now. Say that after you forgot him. After you lived a whole perfect little fantasy life without him and didn’t notice he was gone.” Shadow Akira barked a bitter laugh."I had the power to be god at my fingertips, shape and mold the world, control it, all that power. And I gave it up for you! But as soon as someone offers you an easy choice what do you do? You forget me! You throw me out like I was nothing!" he laughed. "All this power, all this..." he continued laughing, the words distorting between what sounded like laughing or something getting caught up in its throat. "...all the trying and fighting and everything I did was for nothing! Absolutely nothing-" he took a deep breath, calming himself. “You know what hurts the most?” He turned his head just enough to glance at each of them. “You were happy.” His voice was quiet now. Flat. Like if it wasn't for the eerie silence he would have gone unheard. “You were happy in a world without me.” Akira stopped and for a moment, his body went still. His face fell. no twitchy energy, No smirking commentary. Just a heavy, exhausted stillness.

Then his smile curled back up.

Too wide.

“But don’t worry,” he added with a shrug, posture loose and cocky again. “I... can't blame you.” He stepped forward again, this time right up to Futaba, who instinctively stepped back. His expression softened, and he almost looked hurt for a second.

“You got a family again. You deserved that Futaba. You’ve been through hell.”

He turned his head to Yusuke, standing next to her.

"You got a mentor who wasn’t a monster. Someone who didn't use others until there was nothing left”

Then to Ann.

“You got closure. Freedom. A future, unburdened, for you and for Shiho.” he turned to Ryuji, who stiffened, his mouth opening like he wanted to argue

“You, Ryuji? You got to be a hero. No broken leg. No broken dreams. Just a kid everybody finally looked at without pity.”

Then Morgana. Shadow Akira crouched slightly, meeting his gaze at a mockingly human height.

“And you, Mona? You got to be real. Got your wish. Got your body. Got your chance to be somebody instead of just... something."

To Makoto.

“Respect. Recognition. You didn't have to fight and justify every thing you did”

To Haru.

“A father that didn’t have to die for you to be something more than a product to be traded.”

He didn’t stop.

“Kasumi or Sumire, or whoever you are today...you didn’t have to be someone else to be enough.”

And then, finally, to Akechi.He paused. Shadow Akira tilted his head again, as if trying to figure out where to even start.

“And you? You got... to pretend none of it ever happened. An extra life, let's say.” A short, hollow laugh. “Must’ve been nice.”

No one moved and he turned his back to them then, walking a few steps away.

“I wanted to believe it too, you know,” he said, voice almost too low to hear. “That they’d be better off without the pain. That maybe if I stopped pushing... if I just let them go... they could finally be happy.” He turned again. Ann was the first to step forward. Her eyes were wide, shining with unshed tears

“You think we were happy without you?” she said. “That we didn’t feel like something was missing the whole time?”

Shadow Akira raised a brow but said nothing.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she went on. “I kept waking up with this... this ache. And I didn’t even know why.” Her hands curled into fists. “I thought something had gone wrong with Shiho. That maybe I’d forgotten to help her somehow. But it was you.”

“Touching.” he rolled his eyes

“We never would’ve left you behind if we’d known,” Makoto cut in, voice shaking with quiet anger. “We trusted you because you always seemed... unshakable. Like no matter how bad things got, you’d find a way through.”

“You mean we put it all on him.” Ryuji's voice was rough, low. He looked down at his shoes, jaw clenched. “Let him take the fall so we didn’t have to.” Shadow Akira turned to him with mock delight, clapping its hands

“Oh! He can reflect! Mark the calendar.”

“I’m sorry, man,” he muttered. “I shoulda seen it. I shoulda been there.”

“Too little, too late, Skull.” Shadow Akira clicked his tongue. 

“I know,” Ryuji said, and for once, didn’t shout it. Morgana stepped forward, ears pinned back, tail low.

“I thought I was supposed to guide you,” he said. “Protect you. But maybe I just got too used to following.”

 “...We crafted the perfect image of you in our minds -a leader, a symbol, a shield- and forgot you were human.” Yusuke met directly the shadow's glowing eyes and its smirk faltered, just a little.

“I didn’t forget,” Futaba whispered. “I knew there was... something missing..I was just scared. Scared that if I said anything... it would all fall apart. That I would.”

“I...thought it would be okay if I said nothing.” Haru continued “I thought it would keep us safe. I was wrong.” Kasumi stepped forward next, quiet but firm. 

“You're right. I was unsure if I even had the right to be part of this. But Akira was the one who gave me that strength.” Her fingers twisted nervously at her sleeves. “I don’t know how to prove it to you, but I want to fight for him. I will.” Akechi didn't speak. Just crossed his arms and let his nails dig into his costume as much as he could. The others didn't seem to catch it, but judging by the quick tilts of its head, the shadow did.

“You’re all so sentimental,” he muttered. “So damn slow.” His hands lifted, fingers twitching as black static began to crackle faintly around his boots. “But fine. You are here. You say you’re ready. Let’s see what you do next.”

The floor beneath them shuddered. Dust fell from nowhere. The very air around them thickened.

“I can’t stop you,” he added, too casually. “Buuuut this place doesn’t take kindly to trespassers. It has its own way of sorting out intentions.”

A faint, wet creak echoed, then another.crawling vines began to spread from the corners, pale, gnarled things like the roots of an ancient tree, blooming thorns as they slithered forward.

“What the hell is that?” Ryuji stepped back instinctively, just as a vine cracked across the floor between his boots, leaving a shallow glowing red scratch like a whip.

“They're not illusions!” Futaba shouted, eyes wide as her hand whipped up a screen “These are like... cognitive defense systems! What ever they are they're targeting us anyway!”

“Of course they are,” Akechi muttered, already backing away from the growing snare and Morgana hissed as a vine lashed near him, nicking his arm.

“Tch! We need to move and fast!” he said, cutting it down and stepping back as more vines came down around them. A swing of Haru’s axe cleared a path just long enough for Yusuke to duck through, but it closed behind him instantly. Morgana yowled as a vine grazed his leg, and Futaba barely yanked him free in time. A vine slammed down between Ann and Haru, thorns like glass shards dragging against the floor. More vines followed, arching and weaving into towering walls,like they were trying to box them in, to pull them apart.

“They’re closing in too fast!” Makoto shouted, scanning the chaos for a way out.

“Then make a plan!” Akechi snapped. “Standing still is going to get us-!”

“Oh, now you want to be a team player?” Ryuji barked, slamming his foot down on a rising vine. “Too bad you only show up when it benefits you!”

“This is not the time to be doing this!” Ann yelled, twisting away from a thorned branch. “Makoto, where do we go?!” Makoto hesitated. There were too many paths, too many people shouting.

“I-I don't-" she stammered, briefly wondering if that's how it felt all the time for Akira. "We can’t all fit that way! We need to-We need to-”

“To what?!” Futaba cried. “Just pick something!”

“Everyone go left!” Morgana called out, dashing toward a small clearing. “It’s narrow, but-”

“No, right! There’s a wider corridor-!” Yusuke cut in, pointing the other way.

“They’re separating us!” Morgana yelled. “They’re trying to-!”

“I know!” Ryuji roared, grabbing Kasumi’s arm before a mass of brambles could cut her off. “Stick together! Split the hell up and we’re toast!” he shouted.

Too late.

“You never could do anything without me,” Shadow Akira’s voice drawled from above “All that... shouting. All that noise.” He appeared again atop a twisted balcony of roots, arms resting against a thorny branch, dripping black goo. He almost looked bored. And...disappointed.  “You talk about unity like it’s some kind of magic trick,” he continued, arms folded loosely. “But the second it matters, you trip over yourselves. Who’s in charge? Who gets to speak? You don’t know, do you?”

The thorns rose again.

Makoto and Akechi leapt opposite directions as the floor cracked beneath them.Ryuji tried to reach for Ann, but a vine slammed between them, knocking him back. Futaba screamed something and Morgana shouted back, but neither of them could see the other anymore.

“Pathetic,” Shadow Akira muttered, shaking his head. “No wonder I stayed asleep.”

And then the world split beneath them.With a sudden, violent jolt, the floor gave way beneath their feet. The vines didn’t lash this time, they released, like puppet strings cut mid-pull.

“Let’s see what you are when no one else is watching.”

Chapter Text

Ryuji hit the ground first, a loud “Oof-shit!” echoing through the foggy air before Ann landed half on top of him, getting tangled together. He tried to pull her off, her hair getting stuck on his spikes.

“Could you not?” she groaned, untangling herself.

“I broke your fall, didn’t I?” Ryuji shot back, wincing as he sat up.

A small, disgruntled voice popped up beside them.

“If you two are done, maybe help me out of this damn bush.” Morgana’s head emerged from what looked like a tangled, thorn-covered vine. He’d landed face-first, cat form for now. Ann scooped him out with a sigh and brushed a few leaves off. 

“You good?” Ryuji asked

“I’m fine. My pride, maybe less so.” he groaned as they looked around. It looked like the landed in what was a courtyard, but it had rotted beyond recognition. Trees were bare and twisted, overgrown vines coiling like veins through cracked pavement. The sky was overcast and low, like a ceiling pressing down on them. Ryuji jumped up, brushing it with his fingertips.

"Eww, it's moldy-" he groaned, shaking his hand and Ann rolled her eyes, still looking around. There were benches there, rusted and warped, and an empty fountain in the middle, its basin filled with ash instead of water. And at the far edge. a set of gates. An elaborate set of doors, in a dark, almost blood red wood. The handles were white and carved into spines and they didn't want to think if they were bone or not, but the earie white that almost reflected what little light was there, certainly seemed like it. They stepped closer.

"Creepy..." Ann couldn't help but mumble as Ryuji swiped the dust of a plaque next to the door with the back of his sleeve. 

"Trial room..." Morgana read off slowly

“Okay…” Ryuji muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Where even are we?”

“I don’t like the feel of it,” Morgana muttered. “Something’s off.” he paced nervously. "I can't get a read on where we are or if there's any enemies nearby or where the others are-" he sighed. "I just hope the others didn't get completely separated from each other."

“...Should we move forward?” Ann asked.

“We’re already in it,” Morgana muttered grimly.

They stepped inside. The room was vast. The ceiling was taller than it should be - taller than outside, taller than any normal building, stretching almost like a sky above them. Rows of shadowy figures filled the benches. Faceless. Featureless. No eyes, no mouths, just blank silhouettes in student uniforms, teacher’s suits, business jackets, police uniforms. Every figure Akira had ever seen look through him like he was already guilty. A massive round table stood in the center, surrounded by dozens of empty chairs their backs carved into spines, matching the door, and files were spread across the table, names printed in red ink on each one. The judge’s bench was ten times larger than it should have been and looming over them. And seated there was a shadowy figure that flickered between a judge’s robe, a police officer’s cap, a school principal’s suit...It kept changing, but it remained faceless and looming over them.

"They only followed him because they had to."
"He was just there."
"Anyone could’ve done what he did."
"He was a criminal. They pitied him."

“Bullshit!!” Ryuji slammed a hand against the table. 

The whispers from the stands didn't stopped. Just... quieted down for a second, before continuing again, along with hushed laughter. Mona jumped on the table, looking at the files, as Ryuji was yelling at the voices to shut up.

Akira.
Ryuji.
Ann.
Morgana.
The whole team, one after another

But only Akira’s file was open. And only his was blank.

Ann walked over and closed the file as a voice boomed from the judge figure.

“Case number 11-9: Defendant, Akira Kurusu. Charges: Assault. Menace. Manipulation. Influence. Hero Complex. False Hope. Pretending to Be Needed.”

“This is...” Ryuji swallowed. “This is his trial.”

"Not exactly, but-" Morgana started, the voices becoming louder.

"Criminal. Scum. Useless."

The words hissed like steam rising from cracks in the floor, curling around their feet. They didn’t come from a mouth. The figures in the stands didn't even seem to have mouths. Sometimes something blurred into the blank that looked like the space their head should be, something like a sneer or an open gaping wound, it disappeared just as quickly.

“Stop it!” Ann’s voice rang out, cutting them off. Her heels echoed as she stepped forward, shoulders trembling and eyes burning with tears she was barely holding back. She turned, as if trying to find a face among the crowd of shadows - but there was none “It’s not true,” she said to no one. “You weren’t a placeholder. You made us believe we could fight back.”

“You gave us our damn lives back,” Ryuji added. “I don’t care what this place says.” 

“This isn’t a trial,” Morgana said quietly. “It’s a sentencing.” Ryuji marched to the front and slammed a fist against the judge’s podium. “They’re not here to listen Skull. They’ve already decided. This place... it’s built from everything he’s afraid they thought. That we thought.” The figures continued whispering and laughing amongst themselves, now louder than before. 

"And why would anyone take your testimony anyway?" A mix of voices from the stands became distinct from the rest, who were still giggling behind them. "You're worse than him - you're the ones who followed a piece of trash with no plan for his life. At least he pretended to lead. You followed. Blindly. Like sheep."

"Akira isn't-"

"Who would even trust a girl like you anyway?" The figures on the stand leaned forward, still faceless but they could almost see their grins in their voices. "Everyone heard aaaaaaall the rumors about you. No one's going to believe a friendless little whore who just goes along with everything. You’re just a lonely little slut, clinging to the first crowd that didn’t ditch you." Both Ryuji and Morgana stepped in front of Ann who clenched her fists. 

“Ann-” Morgana started.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, biting the words between her teeth.

"SHUT UP-" Ryuji stomped his foot, the figures turning to him with a sharp, mocking laugh.

"You aren't any better either - Couldn’t even make the track team proud. Got one punch thrown and played rebel" the voices cut him off. "Just a violent meathead with no plans. No future. No wonder you got along with him soooo well! Both of you are criminal scum with no prospects in life." 

"Just ignore them-" Morgana flickered his tail 

"And you, little mascot - you’re not even real. You're just a thing pretending to be something of value." they leaned back into their places, melting into the stands, into each other. "Really it's noooo wonder - all of you are just as worthless as him." They circled the three of them now, closing in. The words came from nowhere and everywhere, overlapping, breaking, twisting, like a tape skipping.

“You talk about rebellion, but you weren’t rebels. You were kids playing make-believe. Hiding in masks so you wouldn’t have to look at yourselves.”

“You wanted to be heroes. But you were just angry. Scared.”

“You weren’t fighting for justice. You were just running away.”

“They don’t know anything about-” Ann almost whispered, but was cut off

"But we do, don’t we?"
"You wonder about it too."
"Did he really care? Or were you just convenient for each other?"

Ann turned sharply, but there was no speaker. The courtroom blurred. The figures in the stand melted into each other. The ceiling started to shake

“How long do you think you mattered, really?”
“He always looked out the window when you talked.”
“You were just background noise. All of you were.”

“LIAR!” Ryuji shouted. “He stayed! When everyone else left, he stayed and fought!” The shadows didn’t flinch.  “You're not wrong about me. I was a joke, remember? A washed-up track punk. A ‘problem student.’ Everyone had already decided what I was. Even I believed it.” he stepped forward. "He's the one stood in front of people like this-” he gestured to the judge, to the crowd, “-and said, ‘No. He’s worth something.’”

“Because he had nothing to lose.”
“That’s why you liked him, right?”
“He made you feel like you mattered when no one else gave a damn.”
"Anyone would do in his place-"
“He should’ve stopped it earlier.”
“He should’ve fought harder.”
“You only followed him because you needed someone, anyone, and he was just there.”

Their words hit harder than any attack would ever.

"We’re not here to condemn him.” Morgana shouted “Maybe he couldn’t save everyone. But he saved us. That's gotta-" Morgana started but, the judge figure shifted again, a blur of uniforms, robes, cuffs, keys, hitting the gavel that gave an unnaturally loud sound, booming over the noise.

“And now you’re here, playing witness for a ghost that wouldn’t even defend himself.”

There was no mouth on whatever blur that was supposed to be its face, but the voice echoed through the room anyway.

“We’re not your damn witnesses!" Ryuji gritted his teeth. “Y’know what? Say what you want about me. Say what you want about us. But if you think we’re gonna sit around and let you talk about our friend like he was nothing, you can choke on your own damn sentence!” He stepped forward, dragging a chair out from the round table and throwing it toward the stands. It shattered on impact. The shadows twitched. Some moved out of sight, melting into the benches. Ann raised her head.

“I know what he meant to me. And even if he doesn’t believe it right now -" She turned and reached for the closed file. “I know who he is.” she paused, looking at the blank folder. “You made us believe we could fight back. You made me believe I was more than what they did to me. That I wasn’t broken. That I could stand up again. And I did-because of you.”

“He... internalized all of it, didn’t he?" Morgana sighed "That maybe none of it mattered. That maybe we only followed because we didn’t have anyone else. That he were just... convenient.” He stepped forward, placing a small paw on the table. “But that's where you’re wrong. We believed in him before we even believed in ourselves. Without him, none of this would’ve existed. We wouldn’t have existed. I wouldn't-” His eyes narrowed at the judge figure, voice cold now. “And if this place thinks it can erase that? Then it doesn’t know any of us.” “And that,” Morgana said, “is why we’re not leaving without him.” the whole courtroom shook. The figures in the stands continued to whisper even as they started to float away into dust. The judge remained for a moment more, hitting the gavel one final time before fading. The room and the judge disappeared into a pile of ash in a flash, falling and covering them like snow as the judges words still echoed

"You may say that now. But you still left him to rot."

Chapter Text

“Shit-!” Dust clung to Futaba's jumpsuit as she scrambled to her knees, coughing. The fall hadn’t hurt much (more like being dropped from a few feet, and the floor though it looked like stone felt...bouncy, like a gym mat) but the silence after was wrong. No Ryuji, no Makoto, no Mona scolding her for cursing. Just… stone walls and a long corridor of blackened glass.

“Fut-Oracle?” a voice called, small and hesitant. She turned to see Kasumi (no, Sumire) who stood a few feet behind her, brushing dust off her jacket. She had one hand on her sword, glancing around nervously. They were in the middle of a hallway, seeming to endlessly stretch in two directions, lined with intricate mirrors. Most of them were dark, black and rusty. A few were cracked. Others seemed to flicker with static. 

“Okay, okay, we’re not dead. Cool” Futaba muttered, tapping her temple to try and summon a screen. Nothing appeared. She concentrated, pulling her goggles over her eyes and trying to pinpoint any enemies, get a feel for the others, but there was nothing. “Not cool - I can’t get a signal in here.”

“Are we… separated from the others?” Sumire took a careful step forward. 

“Yeah. Looks like the Palace decided we’d make a cute sidequest.” Futaba rolled her eyes as she stood up, stumbling forward a few steps, Sumire catching her arm and she quickly steadied herself. “Come on. No point standing around in the creepy goth mirror hallway.”

"Which way..." Sumire started and Futaba shrugged, summoning another screen. Blank. Great. 

They moved forward, the floor echoing too loud beneath them. All along the walls, black glass panels reflected their images back, distorted - stretched, cracked, blurred. Every few steps the reflections flickered, twisting into slight variations. Futaba’s mouth moved when hers didn’t. Sumire’s reflection didn’t blink.

“…This place sucks,” Futaba muttered. Sumire nodded, and Futaba continued with a groan. "It's like the world's worst mirror hall in a cheap carnival and I still can't get any signal." She continued, glancing around. The reflections could turn into shadows at any moment and she would have no way of knowing. She had no fighting abilities. Would Violet even be enough if something ambushed them right now? From the way she kept her weapon ready and kept jumping at reflections who moved out of place, she was thinking the same thing. Sumire slowed down first, grabbing Futaba's arm.

“Wait,” she whispered. Futaba paused mid-step, goggles still down.

“What? You see something?” Sumire didn’t answer immediately, just pointed ahead of them, down the hallway, where the mirrors ended. Or rather, collapsed inward, merging into one giant pane of dark, smoky glass. Something about it shimmered differently than the rest. Almost… alive. The edges pulsed faintly, like it was breathing. And in front of it, stood shadows. Or...shadow-y forms? Vague, half-formed. Human silhouettes dressed in distorted school uniforms. Some of them wore something that looked like the Shujin uniform. Some another they didn't recognize. Probably Akira's middle school. Their faces blurred, like smudged ink on wet paper. No mouths. No eyes. Just the faint outlines of students.

Futaba tensed, stepping back instinctively

“Okay, okay, now we’re in classic Palace territory. Monsters that look like high school trauma? Definitely on brand.” she mumbled and Sumire raised her sword, but didn’t step forward yet. The shadows didn’t move either. Didn’t charge. Didn't melt into some kind of shadow or monster. They just stood there. Silent. One lifted a hand, its palm open. Not like it was threatening them, or reaching towards them or beckoning them closer or...anything really. Just held its open palm in front of it, the blank head tilted slightly to the side.  Futaba’s brows furrowed.

“…They're not attacking.” Sumire lowered her weapon slightly. 

“Do you...Do you think it’s a trap?” she asked, still staring ahead.

“No,” Futaba said slowly. “It’s… something else.” She took a cautious step forward. The Shadows didn’t react at first. But when she got too close, the air thickened around her , like stepping into a magnetic field. She felt pushed, not violently, but firmly. Like the hallway itself was saying no. She stumbled back, breath caught in her throat.

“What the hell...?”

Another Shadow raised its hand. Still not threatening. Still just... there. Like it was blocking them.

Sumire stepped up beside her, gripping her sword tighter.

“It looks like they’re guarding that mirror.” she said and Futaba’s eyes narrowed, turning toward the giant glass wall. It was too dark to see anything. She tilted her head, trying to get a better view from another angle and the shadows tilted their heads, following her, as if trying to block her

“…We’re not supposed to see what’s in there,” she mumbled “Akira doesn’t want us to.”

“What?” Sumire looked at her, startled. 

“He’s the one keeping us out. Not these things - him.” Futaba kept staring at the mirror. Sumire followed Futaba's gaze.

"I-I guess it makes sense?" she continued gripping her sword "We're inside senpai's head after all..." She glanced back at the Shadows.

“They’re not attacking because they don’t want to hurt us. They’re… programmed to protect us.” Futaba continued and Sumire hesitated.

“Protect us from what?”

“I don’t think they know. But whatever’s behind that glass, he doesn’t want us to see it.”

One of the Shadows turned its head slightly, as if acknowledging her. Sumire stepped forward again, as if to try, but the moment she crossed the invisible threshold, the Shadows stirred, their forms distorting faintly.

She stopped, Futaba grabbing her arm

“…Okay,” she breathed. “We won’t push it.” Futaba pulled her back gently, eyes wide behind her goggles. The Shadows stood still once more.

"Were are we even supposed to go if this isn't the way?" Futaba groaned. "Go back to where we came from? Try to climb the hole we fell through? I can barely do a push-up let alone pull my whole weight climbing."  Sumire giggled, putting a hand over her mouth

"Sorry, sorry, I just-" she let out a small laugh again. "I couldn't help but imagine you trying to climb the vine and falling on your ass" Futaba rolled her eyes

"Yeah, thanks, Violet." she sighed. "ANYWAYS-" she popped out a screen. Still blank but she could at least manually map out the route "Our first priority should be to regroup with the others. "  The Shadows didn’t move again, even as Sumire and Futaba turned away. The moment they stepped back, the pressure in the air lifted like a breath had been held and finally let go.

“…We weren’t supposed to be here,” Sumire said quietly, sheathing her sword.

“Yeah. Palace firewall. Super passive-aggressive.” Futaba adjusted her goggles again. As they kept going the other side of the hallway felt...off. Mirrors started to fade into blank squares. Stone gave way to pale, unmarked hallways that stretched far too long in both directions. It looked like a school. Kind of. In a way, if you really squinted. No lockers, no posters, no noise. Just... silence and fluorescent lights buzzing above. The walls didn't look like they were made of brick or plaster and a gentle push confirmed their suspicions. They were paper , thin and gray, sagging slightly like soaked cardboard. There were no windows. The floor was cold tile, but the ceiling was too low, just enough to make the space feel off. Stretched out. Like a dream that couldn’t remember how space worked.

The only movement came from the shadows.

They walked the halls in uniform lines. Faceless students, in mixed uniforms, some blurring together as they passed. Blurred outlines of people who might have mattered, who might’ve once existed. They passed without noticing them. Without seeing them. Without acknowledging either of them. None of them stopped. There was noise. Shuffling feet. Voices almost like whispers, mumbling things they couldn't make out. Futaba grabbed Sumire's arm and kept staring at the screen, tapping away and ignoring the faceless crowd. Sumire was glancing around nervously. trying to avoid them. Sometimes, a face would flicker onto one of the passing figures, not someone they knew, just a blur of eyes and lips twisted into a sneer. A whisper would follow, just behind them.

“They’re not real.” Sumire felt goosebumps as one almost passed through her.

“They’re not not real,” Futaba said. “They’re...stuff Akira remembers. Or stuff he thinks he remembers.” Sumire stared ahead as another figure passed. She caught a flicker of a face. blurry and warped, but the expression was clear: disgust. Then it was gone. Replaced by the blank again.

“But they’re all ignoring us.” Sumire looked down the hall. Futaba nodded. 

“Yeah. That tracks.” she looked at Sumire, staring through her goggles. She hesitated before speaking again, taking a deep breath “I mean... Akira’s record and everything. And even before that he...” she paused, chewing the inside of her cheek. “There was always something off about the way people talked about him.”

"What?"

“Okay, so. When he first came to Tokyo? I kind of… internet stalked him.”

“You did what!?”

“It wasn’t weird!” she said quickly. “Okay, it was a little weird. But I needed to know who he was! Like, security reasons!”

"Still-" Sumire gave her a look.

“I’m a hacker, it’s practically a background check.”

“That is not a defense.”

"-And anyway, it wasn't like there was anything to find other than his record. He barely had any social media, you know? And everything there was technically public. Well- before he privated everything after his arrest because of some nasty comments-"

"What did they-"

"Oh, you don't want to know. And there wasn't much there other than that. Seriously. His old school barely had anything about him. And what there was there? It was all public, surface-level stuff. Like class trip group shots. Like one or two birthday tags. Nothing personal. No selfies, no in-jokes. Just… his name on some caption, way in the back of the photo, like he was a photobomb.”

“I... didn’t know it was like that.” Sumire looked down.

 “Yeah. After the arrest, he nuked what little presence he had." Futaba clicked her tongue. "Everything locked down. And what didn’t? Got nasty. I saw some of the comments before it all vanished. People from his hometown, like classmates, maybe. Stuff like, ‘always knew he was weird,’ were the mildest ones. ”

"They really did that?” Futaba nodded, jaw tight.

“And like... none of them defended him. Not a single one.” she sighed “I always figured, you know, people can be assholes. Maybe he just liked being somewhat of a loner, didn't click with them or something.” Futaba continued, more quietly. “But maybe he didn’t." Sumire shuffled nervously. 

"I...should have asked." her hand clenched the handle of her sword. "I didn't think about it. Akira was always listening to me. Helping me."

"You didn't know. I knew and felt like it wasn't a big deal. But maybe it was? He never talked about any of it so-" Sumire didn't answer. They walked forward. It felt... wrong. Like walking into a room where you know you’re not wanted.

"Doesn’t belong here....Better off....who...pretends to be anyway...."

Sumire flinched, making Futaba also stop in her tracks.

"Did you...hear that?" she said and Futaba nodded, still staring at the screen. 

"Not for us though. It’s for him.” Sumire looked down.

“…It kind of feels familiar anyway.” Futaba didn't say anything, just grabbed Sumire's arm again and they kept walking forward.

They passed an empty classroom. The door was open, but the desks were all turned to face the windows, chairs empty. Like a lesson had been planned, but no one ever showed up. The door to the cafeteria led to an empty room lined with vending machines that only showed static. The nurses office led to a gray closet with empty boxes of painkillers. They reached the stairwell at the end of the hall. But instead of stairs leading up or down, it just looped. The bottom floor fed back into the top. One continuous spiral.

A piece of a mirror stood on the landing. Cracked. And this time, it wasn’t guarded.

Sumire moved toward it, reaching out to the glass that didn’t show their reflections.

"Wait, Violet I should-" Futaba mumbled, but she couldn't stop her before her palm touched the glass.

It showed Akira, standing alone in the middle of a hallway just like this one. Surrounded by the same faceless figures. All walking past.

Futaba touched the glass too. And this time, they felt it.

"You don’t belong."
"No one wants you here"

Futaba felt her knees buckle and Sumire caught her, ignoring the way she felt like she was about to collapse too.

"If that's here then...what is that he doesn't want us to see?" Sumire mumbled and Futaba, gripped her tighter. 

"We should go back."

"What? Oracle, you said it yourself it was-"

"We should go back! If that's how he feels, if that's how we let him feel I-" Futaba’s voice cracked and Sumire held her tighter.

“Oracle,” she said softly “you didn’t let him feel anything. None of us knew.”

“That’s the problem,” Futaba shook her head. “We should have known.” She pulled away and turned, taking as big steps as she could, almost slipping on the slick tile as she moved back towards the other side of the hallway, the one they came from

“Wait-are you sure?” Sumire asked, following her, easily catching up.

“No,” Futaba said. “But I don’t care.” The hallway pulsed around them again as they returned. The figures in the dark glass stood where they had before. Still blank. Still faceless. Still...

“We’re not here to break in,” Futaba said aloud, to them or to the Palace or maybe to Akira himself.

“We just want to understand.” Sumire stepped up next to her. "Whatever's going on with you I-we-" she stumbled, not finding the right words to say. 

The shadows didn’t move, but the mirror’s surface flickered, fuzzed with black static. Sumire stepped forward and the shadows started to flicker. Both of them looked at each other for a second before they grasped each others hands, stepping forward together. The shadows melted and the mirror's surface rippled into clarity.

It was a room. Akira’s, probably. But it wasn’t how it looked in Leblanc. It was dimmer, even with the large window. Smaller. His childhood room? Posters half-peeled on the walls. A desk stacked with unopened report cards. Shelves lined with books with cracked spines.  A broken phone charger dangling off the edge of the bed. An old CRT monitor that showed a flickering test card. On the floor, a calendar with every week crossed out in black marker. No names. No events. Just Xs. Then it flickered again. Just the empty hallway. That same looping stairwell. The blur of faceless students drifting past. The figures in the mirror flickered, not showing Akira, not exactly. Just his silhouette maybe. The same frame. The same slouch. Sitting in some forgotten corner of some too-bright hallway.  Before they could react it flickered again. An empty school rooftop, the sky around them showing a gray sky with clouds rapidly changing, like the skybox above them was flickering. A large living room, with the shutters closed and the TV playing static. A messy kitchen filled with empty ready-to-eat meals and paper plates. An empty, neglected yard filled with dandelion weeds. Akira's silhouette at the edge of a too large group who all seemed to ignore him, only turning for their blank faces to twist into mocking grins before melting to sludge again.

Futaba reached toward the mirror again, but this time her hand passed through. No resistance. No static. Just cold air.

“It’s open,” she whispered. Sumire took a step closer, and the space rippled around them like a stone dropped in water. There was a sense of vertigo for one moment as they stepped into a dark room. No windows, just the glow of a single fluorescent bulb overhead, flickering slightly. The door behind them sealed with a soft click.

This wasn’t another hallway. This wasn’t any part of the Palace they had seen before. A small, square room. Padded walls, like a recording booth or maybe -Futaba didn’t want to finish the thought. A bench ran along one side, cluttered with old notebooks, tape recorders, a cracked PSP, half-open bags of expired candy. Futaba looked around, her fingers twitching toward her glasses. Nothing worked. No readings. No menus.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

"Is that....Akira's voice?" Sumire looked around and Futaba desperately tried to get a reading. 

"It...sounds like him, but-" she spotted a recorder spinning.

The room flickered. Around them, the walls shifted, no longer padded, but a chalkboard filled with accusations over and over and over again

Liar. Delinquent. Problem child. Not our fault. He brought it on himself.

“You didn’t deserve any of this,” Futaba said, fists clenched.

“I was told I did. Enough times that I started to believe it.”

The air rippled again. The chalkboard faded into another mirror, not a clean one. This one was fractured, old, as if it had been struck in the center years ago and never replaced. Cracks spidered out from the center, warping the reflection. But the image was clear enough.

Akira.

Not Joker.

Not their leader in a trench coat and mask. Just Akira - in a school uniform, hunched over a desk in the back of a classroom that wasn’t quite right. The windows were boarded up, the blackboard behind him smeared. The other desks were filled with the same faceless silhouettes they’d seen before, all turned away from him.  He wasn’t writing. He wasn’t moving. He was j ust sitting there.

" That’s- " Futaba started to whisper but couldn't finish her thought before The mirror shifted again.

Now he stood in the middle of a crowd. Maybe a festival?   He was surrounded by people, all faceless, all laughing and talking, confetti drifting down like ash, but none of them looked at him. His mouth moved. A hand lifted. No one saw him.

A glitch flickered across the glass like static. A table with only one chair pulled out. A birthday card still sealed on the counter, never opened. A stack of apology letters in neat handwriting, never sent. There was no one in the home. It looked like an empty showroom.

Then another flicker - the café, but colder, duller. Sojiro wasn’t there. The lights were off. The door said "c losed" and stayed that way.

" He's alone in every single one," Sumire said, her voice barely audible.

" Even when he’s not," Futaba added.

The mirror darkened again. But a faint trace of Akira’s voice lingered in the air.

“ No one ever asked ”

The words weren’t sad. They were bitter. Tired.

Sumire reached for the mirror instinctively, fingertips brushing cold glass again. This time, the reflection didn’t ripple or shift. It just stared back at her.

No distortions.

No tricks.

Just her face. And then, quietly, the reflection didn't move its mouth, but a voice -Sumire's or Kasumi's she couldn't tell anymore- echoed through the room

“ Do you only care now because he’s not smiling anymore?”

Sumire jerked her hand back like she’d been burned.

“ W- We didn’t -We didn't know-” she whispered.

The room pulsed. The mirror cracked again. Futaba stepped forward slowly, reaching out.

"Do you only care now because he's not here to protect you?"

"Do you only care now because he's not here to fix your problems?"

"Do you only care now because it makes you feel bad you didn't see it before?"

Futaba didn't step back, but her voice was trembling. 

"I-We-That's not-"

“ You looked to him like he was a shield.
A crutch.”

“ He stood in front so you didn’t have to.
He kept moving forward so you didn’t look back.”

Futaba’s throat tightened. Her goggles blurred. She wiped at them furiously but the static wouldn’t clear from her lenses 

“ You loved him only when he was helping you.”

Her hands trembled. She stepped back half a pace, breath catching.

“ Shut up-”

“ And you finally noticed he was tired when he was of no use to you”

“ Stop it.” 

“ When he stopped saving you , you remembered to care.”

Futaba’s knees buckled, a soft sound escaping her throat. She gripped her arms, hunched over slightly, blinking too fast to hide the tears. And then a hand caught her shoulder. Sumire moved beside her without a word, arms wrapping around her in a tight, awkward hug that didn’t know how to fix anything only that she had to try .

Futaba clutched her back, voice barely a whisper.

“ I didn’t know., I didn't, I- I should’ve- .”

“ I think… he knew we wouldn’t,” Sumire murmured. “ And I think he still helped us anyway.” Futaba pulled back.

“ We’re here now,” she whispered. “ And we’re not going anywhere.” There was a pause then, slowly, the mirror faded back into blank glass. No more visions. No more reflections. Just them.

The door behind them clicked again. The hallway - the real one, or whatever passed for real in this Palace - appeared. Sumire's legs trembled but she still helped FUtaba up.

"...You’re way too nice to me, fake gymnast girl.” 

“Technically I’m a real gymnast.” 

“Let’s get out of this depressing hellhole,”