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🌕🍡🐇
(yuuki.)
Fast cars, fast food, fast hearts... Shinjuku’s a busy district. It also happens to be a good place to blend into the background. Everyone pays attention to nothing in particular. No one has a care in the world about what that guy over by the ke-bob stand is doing or who he’s here with. Shinjuku’s atmosphere fits the owner of the Phan-Site pretty well—like a glove, in fact.
At first, Yuuki was only there to talk to a reporter about the Phantom Thieves. It went absolutely nowhere. Not only was she super old, but she also was super not interested in his information. She really wanted to find a good firsthand source. But that was then, and this is now. Now, he’s acclimated to the high-speed and high-risk environment of Shinjuku.
In particular, he likes to hang around the bookstore. It feels safer than the rest of the district. Who would try to assault someoneinside or even outside of a bookstore? Plus, they serve tea there for those who browse the store’s content... and more importantly, buy the store’s content. Yuuki’s left Shinjuku every night with a book that he will never read in a million years.
That isn’t to say he doesn’t read at the bookstore. He pulls out a magic book called Magical Feats of Mahou Mitsuaki to read while he waits on the Phan-site to refresh. The book is about magic tricks that one can perform at home. There are sections on sleight of hand, card tricks, and even bigger things like disappearing acts using wardrobes. Overall, it’s an investing read, and he’s not ashamed to say he practices most of the sleight of hand tricks during class. It’s better than fidgeting with his pencils.
On any night in Shinjuku, Yuuki’s left hand caresses a to-go tea, his right hand’s fingers straddle the pages of the magic guide, and his eyes pore over the Phan-Site, open on his phone. No one ever bothers him.
Until tonight, when Kurusu walks in. Behind his fake glasses are actually a pretty sharp set of eyes. Yuuki almost feels pinned when Kurusu turns his head towards him. He’s like a lone wolf, and Yuuki’s fated to be a rabbit, stuck between a blocked clearing and a rushing river.
He tries to steady his heartbeat by staying stock-still as Kurusu approaches. It’s no secret that Yuuki has a crush on the leader of the Phantom Thieves, who he suspects is Kurusu, but he’s convinced he wouldn’t care who the leader is. Whoever they are, they must be noble, and they must have a big heart. Surely they would have room for him too?
Being loved isn’t much to ask. It’s now, as Yuuki calms himself at Kurusu’s relaxed smile, that Yuuki wishes the Phantom Thieves could see that after everything with Kamoshida, they’ve stolen his heart, rather than changed it. That revelation will probably never dawn on them though, and especially not the all too quiet Kurusu. Yuuki never can tell if he’s all-observant or completely ignorant of his surroundings. Hard to see behind those frames.
Yuuki dog-ears the page on hiding a card in one’s sleeve before shutting the book. He gives his full attention to Kurusu, who’s just slid into a small seat across from him.
“What brings you here?” Yuuki starts conversation because Kurusu is typically satisfied with just sitting somewhere with someone in complete silence.
“Had a shift at Crossroads and didn’t feel like going home yet,” Kurusu answered bluntly.
“Oh, and you just happened to come across me here?” Yuuki asks. Kurusu nods promptly. “I see. Well, I don’t quite feel like going home either. Let me get you a tea.” Yuuki gets up and Kurusu grabs his arm a quickness. But he’s gentle, so Yuuki manages to relax at the touch. “No, please allow me. I really need a refill anyway.”
And he really needs to get away from Kurusu to collect his thoughts. He knows his face would begin to redden if he’d stayed there. With a good bit of distance between them, Yuuki allows the heat to rush to his cheeks. He clutches his empty tea to-go cup with a fierceness. He thinks for a second that it might stop his heart from beating out of his chest like some kind of stress ball, but it does nothing of the sort. In fact, he probably needs to stop squeezing it before tea starts dribbling from the soon to be broken paper cup. His anxiety commands him to look over his shoulder every so often, just to make sure Kurusu is still there. Every so often just so happens to be every ten steps, and it’s probably starting to get weird, but Kurusu doesn’t notice at least. Yuuki just can’t calm himself down.
Because, god, he just thinks about it so much. This exact scenario. Being in a little shop like this. There’s so many people here, but it’s just them. Just them, and no one else. And they’ve got tea, they’ve got books, they’ve got silence, they’ve got each other. The leader of the Phantom Thieves, and his dedicated fan. His devotion is free of charge, and he couldn’t ever imagine that Kurusu would want to return the favor in a million years. But that’s okay.
Even if Kurusu is just a totally ordinary run-of-the-mill normal guy, he’s at least been there for Yuuki through everything with Kamoshida. He listens to him when he absolutely just word-vomits about updates to the Phan-site and all the new activity on it. Man, he really listens. Just sits and listens. He doesn’t have to say a word for Yuuki to know he’s really giving him all his attention. That he’s sure of. Because, after all, when they’re close, Kurusu’s crimson eyes always seem to gleam with appreciation. Not that Yuuki is staring into his eyes or anything...
“Sir?”
Yuuki blinks in confusion. Oh. He’s at the tea shop. “Yes? What was I saying?” he asks, just a tinge embarrassed about staring off into outer space.
The cashier shakes his head. “You haven’t said anything, actually. I asked you for your order.”
“Sorry. Two green teas, please. Smalls. Two sugars and a spoonful of milk in one. The other is regular.” Yuuki pulls out his wallet and pays for them. He sincerely hopes he’d gotten Kurusu’s order correct. Not sure why he’s doubting himself when he found out a couple months ago that they both like the same kind of tea. They might take it differently, but the flavor beneath the sweet remains.
Yuuki lingers at the kiosk until the drinks are ready. He has a quick debate as to whether he should walk slowly or rush back to Kurusu. Ultimately, he lets his legs decide, and his legs decide to take their time, because he’s still feeling the fact that he had to stand on the whole train ride to Shinjuku.
When Yuuki returns to the table, Kurusu is still sitting patiently where he was. Yuuki places the teas between them before sitting back down. He pushes his book to the side and slides his phone into his lap. If something on the Phan-site attracts his attention, he doesn’t want to be too obvious about it.
Yuuki steels his nerves as he watches Kurusu take a sip of his tea. “I hope I remembered your order correctly. I guess I took you to be more of a coffee person. I guess it’s where you’re living at Leblanc. I’ve always wanted to come in, but I guess it would be kind of awkward, wouldn’t it? Me, the guy who runs the Phan-site, coming to your usual hangout. Talk about stalker behavior, huh?”
“Stalkers are always welcome at Leblanc,” Kurusu somehow says with a straight face.
The response startles Yuuki at first, but then he ends up covering his mouth as he breaks out into an uncontrollable smile, followed by an unintentionally loud bit of laughter. Kurusu gains a faint smile at this.
“Oh,” Yuuki calms himself, letting out the last few chuckles, “well, that’s super nice of you, but... I just don’t think I can take you up on that offer. It would feel weird. Plus! What if someone spotted us together? Don’t you think they’d put the pieces together and figure out that you’re the leader of the Phantom Thieves if you’re hanging out with me?”
Kurusu looks off into the distance. “We’re hanging out now.”
“Yeah, but we’re in public. But, if we spent quality time together... well, that’d be a different story wouldn’t it?” Yuuki begins to take a sip of his tea but stops himself to speak. “Don’t answer that, seriously. Anyway, funny you’re here because I’ve got a new request for you. Someone on the Phan-Site sent me a request concerning a mochi-maker. There’s a family mochi business in Kanda, and the son of the owner feels like he’s being overworked. I went to middle school with him, so when I saw his message on the Phan-Site, I knew I had to do something.”
“Is his father secretly poisoning the mochi?” Kurusu jokes.
Yuuki tries not to choke on his tea. “No, of course not. His son just feels overworked is all, especially around Tsukimi.”
“Maybe he just needs to hire more workers,” Kurusu suggests.
“I somewhat agree, but it’s a strict family business, so I see why he won’t. It’s been passed down for generations. Maybe if you give him a change of heart, he’ll hire another worker.” Yuuki shrugs. His finger dances around the top of his tea. “I dunno. I know it must sound pretty selfish of me to ask you to help him since I know the guy personally.”
“Not at all, I’d do the same,” Kurusu says. It’s little things like this that makes Yuuki suspect Kurusu trusts him with his real identity. Still, it’s vague enough that Kurusu really might not be the Phantom Thieves leader.
“Thank you, Kurusu, I really appreciate it.” A thought then enters Yuuki’s head. He better speak now or forever hold his peace. “Hey, do you think I could meet the leader of the Phantom Thieves? Just to tell them how much I appreciate their work? This is a really important case for me.”
Kurusu blanches only the slightest bit. He shakes his head and takes another drink of tea. He’s been nursing it, but now he’s holding it close to his lips. Yuuki recognizes this as a sign he doesn’t want to talk about this, so he’s gonna have to talk for both of them now. He's used to it.
“That’s ok,” he falters a tad, “maybe someday. Um...” Yuuki takes a long drink of his tea. He might’ve asked for something a little too sweet. He places his drink down and tries not to look disappointed.
There’s not much to talk about. Yuuki doubts they have much in common besides the Phantom Thieves. It’s all they really talk about. Curiously, Kurusu slides Magical Feats of Mahou Mitsuaki around so he can read the title. Interested, he takes it up to read. He flips through the pages just to see what’s going on here. He doesn’t read it seriously, just skims and looks at the picture diagrams.
“I’ve been reading that for a while now. I think I’m getting pretty good at the tricks. Here, watch this,” Yuuki orders.
He takes a couple coins from his pocket and places one in each palm. He has Kurusu’s full attention. Yuuki closes his fists and shakes them a couple times. He shows Kurusu his empty palms and gets a nice and shocked face. Then, Yuuki waves his hands over each other, and there lay two coins in one palm. Kurusu sits back, just absolutely gobsmacked.
“It’s nothing special. Do you want me to tell you how I did it?” Yuuki leans forward, giddy to explain.
Kurusu folds his hands under his chin and gives Yuuki his signature suave smile. It’s that smile that makes Yuuki’s heart jitter like he’d downed five cups of coffee in quick succession. He likes to call it the “Espresso Smile.”
“I like to keep a little bit of mystery in my life,” Kurusu intones, making full use of the “Espresso Smile.”
“O—oh... I— I see.” Yuuki combs a hand through the back of his hair and looks away. He might just have a heart attack right here on this table if he keeps his eyes on Kurusu any longer. “Um, well, you know there’s a mystery film playing right now. Um... Spoons In I think? Would you be interested in seeing it some time?”
“We’ll see what the future holds,” Kurusu answers with a pleasant tone.
🌕🍡🐇
The night drones on, and Kurusu heads back to Leblanc to close up shop. Yuuki prefers to stay in Shinjuku for just a little bit longer. Curfew approaches, but he has at least an hour. It’s not too long of a train ride home.
He orders another cup of tea and finishes the chapter on card tricks before putting the book back on the shelf and leaving. Oh, he does also buy a volume of a manga called Tale of Shinji, but he’s never gonna read it. It’ll look nice on his bookshelf with all the other books whose pages will remain untouched.
Neon lights never blinded Yuuki. Despite the drowsiness enveloping his eyes, he manages to navigate just fine about the barren streets. Sure, there’s some pretty unsavory people hanging around, but after a month of sitting around Shinjuku, Yuuki figures he’s got it all mapped out.
He takes the central street route, heading toward the train station. He’ll probably just watch the Phan-site until he drifts off. And then
“Hey! You over there with the strong aura!”
Yuuki whips his head around. A girl in a headband is wildly waving him down. She sits at a table with cards strewn about, likely tarot. Standing across from her are a couple of guys who seem to be getting impatient. Yuuki approaches with caution.
“Don’t let her fool you,” one of the men speaks up, waving his hand with some flair. He reminds Yuuki of Kitagawa. “She’ll pin you for every last coin you’ve got.”
The other man waves a hand downward. “And honey, don’t believe what she says about your future. She told me I was going to come into money and then all that happened was that I received a free coupon at the convenience mart at Shibuya!”
“I’m right here you know!” the fortune teller chides, puffing her cheeks out indignantly.
“And?” the man says without a care in the world.
The fortune teller picks her cards back up and reshuffles them, head down in frustration and, well, maybe minor concentration. Her crystal blue eyes fall upon Yuuki, and for a moment, he feels something mystical. He’d be lying if he said she didn’t pull him in.
Once Yuuki nears the table, the men take their leave, shaking their heads, tutting, and overall disapproving of the interaction. Surely though, she wouldn’t needle someone with such a surprising aura!
“First reading is free, but the next reading is going to cost a hundred thousand yen. Does that suit you?” the fortune teller asks, blinking those big blue eyes at Yuuki.
He scratches the back of his head. “Oh! Well, sure!” Because, what were the chances he’d be coming back for more?
After shuffling her cards a few time, the fortune teller lays out a spread of one major arcana and three minor arcana. The major arcana sends a shock through her when she flips it over. She almost seems overwhelmed with the power, throwing her head back with wild eyes. The minor arcana aren’t so inspiring.
“You’ve got ‘The Moon’, ‘Knight of Wands’, ‘Queen of Cups’, and the ‘Knight of Cups.’” The fortune teller smiles up at Yuuki. “Okay, I’ve read them. A hundred-k for the interpretation.”
It practically blows Yuuki away. He stumbles backwards just a bit. “What? You just identified the cards! I could do that!”
“Could you?”
Yuuki bends over the table. “Yeah! They’ve got the names right on the cards!” He points right at the label on the “Queen of Cups.”
The fortune teller covers his hand. “Now you can’t.”
“Come on, this is ridiculous!” Yuuki whines up at the sky.
“I’ll give you a discount. Ten percent off.”
“That’s still ninety thousand yen!” Yuuki exclaims.
The fortune teller puts a finger over her lips and shushes him loudly. “Fine! Fine! A thousand. Surely you’ve got a thousand.”
Yuuki opens his wallet. He’s got about seven hundred. He doesn’t shove the wallet in her face, but he holds it close enough for her to see how empty it is. “Just enough to get me home, really. Plus, maybe a cab ride just in case? Come on. You said you liked my aura.”
She considers this, closes her eyes, and leans back in her chair. Her cheek touches her shoulder as she ponders.
“Did I say aura? I meant odor. You smell like books.” She opens one eye and catches sight of his pouty face. “Oh for the love of— fine. Free of charge. But next time I sense your aura in the area, I’m gonna need at least a thousand yen.”
“Sure,” Yuuki chirps.
He bounces on his heels as he waits for her poring eyes to finally fall upon him, tiring of the cards.
Finally, she clears her throat. “You have a very strong relationship with the moon. I’m actually pretty shocked. You’ve got strong intuition then, and you’re very in tune with your unconscious... or, perhaps you will be soon. The Knight of Wands is reversed, so you’ll be pretty reckless soon. The Knight of Cups says you’ll be following your heart or something. And, finally, the Queen of Cups is reversed... so, this might indicate a martyrdom.”
The fortune teller stands up, making Yuuki take a quick step back. She leans over her table and gives him the once, twice, and thrice over.
“I’m getting really good energy from you right now. I can see your future like I can see that mole right under your chin.”
“Oh gosh,” Yuuki stammers, subconsciously rubbing his neck.
“‘Gosh’ indeed. Have you ever heard of the story called ‘Tsuki no Usagi’?”
Yuuki crosses his arms and tilts his head toward each shoulder, really trying to think on it. “Rings a bell. Tell me though.”
“The way my mother used to tell me, it takes place in a long and winding forest. A beggar becomes lost and is in need of sustenance—“
“Oh!” Yuuki interrupts excitedly. “And a rabbit and a fox and a—um... a monkey, I think—approach him, right? They offer food?”
“Please, allow me to explain,” the fortune teller says calmly. “The fox offers the beggar meat that he has just hunted for. The monkey offers fruit that he has just foraged. The rabbit can only offer grass, but he knows this isn’t enough for the beggar. So, he has the beggar build a fire and he throws himself over the flames. The beggar saves him though, and reveals that he isn’t a beggar after all. He’s the Man on the Moon, and he praises the rabbit for risking his own life to help another. He immortalizes the rabbit on the moon’s surface, and the rabbit makes mochi there for all of eternity.”
“Sounds like that would suck for the rabbit,” Yuuki infers.
“But he loves his job. It makes the people of Japan happy, so it makes him happy. Most importantly, it makes the Man on the Moon happy,” the fortune teller reminds him.
“I see.” Yuuki rubs his forefinger over his chin. “So what does this have to do with me?”
The fortune teller begins to pick her cards back up and reshuffle. “The arcana of your future align with this story. I’m sure of it. The martyrdom, recklessness, and strong connection to the moon made me think of this story immediately. I suggest you watch for the shadow of this story to follow you. I have faith that it will lead to your happiness.”
“But a rabbit making mochi on the moon? I just can’t see how that applies to me.”
The fortune teller hums. “Well, I think that’s something you need to figure out for yourself if you’re planning on going home with what you’ve got in your wallet.”
Yuuki hangs his head in defeat. She’s never gonna be any help. So, he gives her a quick thanks and a farewell. He heads off to the station.
🌕🍡🐇
Back home, Yuuki leans on his windowsill and stares up at Tsuki no Usagi. It’s only his head, seeing as tonight is a half moon. He seems pretty content. Just pounding away at that pestle. It is pretty funny how that fortune teller happened to tell that story when he just told Kurusu about his old middle school friend. Yuuki wonders if she really does have some intuition.
But it’s just not the fortune Yuuki wants. He doesn’t want a fortune in mochi immortality. He wants a fortune in... well, there’s a few things he’d like.
Firstly, he’d like to be famous. If everyone knows his name, he never has to worry about anything. He’ll have riches and power like no one’s ever seen. Secondly, he’d like to have friends. Kurusu is fine and all, but he’s only one person, and they don’t hang out much. Lastly, he’d like to meet the Phantom Thieves. It would just be cool.
Mochi means absolutely nothing to him. He’s never gotten anywhere near a pestle.
Whatever. It’s just one prediction. Who’s to say that he didn’t breathe the wrong way and change his fate? At this time of night, Yuuki doesn’t need that kind of stress to think about. He really just wants to get into bed, scrolling through Phan-Site posts and comments. It's his job as a moderator, after all.
If he can find something really good, he’ll get to talk to Kurusu. He can’t just approach him with some namby-pamby request about a strict teacher or a hard to impress college dean. And, Yuuki can’t talk to him about anything else. Kurusu’s a busy guy. He just doesn’t have the time for a conversation with someone like Yuuki.
Still, Kurusu’s friends with the Phantom Thieves. Surely they have to talk about more than Phantom Thief business.
Man. Yuuki wishes he could be one of those guys.
But it’s just not in the cards for him. Not tonight, not ever, and not as long as the mochi-maker on the moon has anything to say about it.
🌕🍡🐇
Doing as the fortune teller bade him, Yuuki watches for Tsuki no Usagi to take command of his life. He manages to connect the dots like constellations between the mochi-maker’s son and the rabbit on the moon. Yuuki checks constantly to see if Kurusu has taken up the request yet.
What can Yuuki offer Kurusu, likely a Phantom Thief who has everything at his disposal? Nothing, he knows, but perhaps this request is closer to home than Yuuki first thought. It’s something he’ll have to help Kurusu with, he figures. Shouldn’t this be what his fortune meant?
Perhaps Kurusu won’t be able to change the mochi-maker’s heart. Perhaps Yuuki will have to be the one to talk him down, or whatever the Phantom Thieves do when they change hearts. Perhaps Kurusu will be so happy that he’ll even suggest Yuuki help more often. Perhaps they’ll get close, and they’ll start going on solo missions together, and they’ll start doing everything else together in real life, and then they’ll move in together somewhere, and it’ll be a nice apartment with all the fixings maybe with a pestle for mochi so they’ll always remember what got them together in the first place and oh. Well. Um. How about that.
Yuuki closes his eyes so tightly that he starts seeing phosphenes. Just a simple mind cleanser. When he opens them again, he remembers that he’s right outside Leblanc.
Yes, he’s plotted this all night long. He finally got the confirmation from Kurusu that the Phantom Thieves would move out today. Yuuki plans to follow them and then, when everything looks like it’s going downhill, he’ll jump out from the shadows and deliver the final move needed to change the mochi-maker’s heart. And maybe he’ll steal Kurusu’s heart along the way.
Or maybe not, but it brings a smile to Yuuki’s face nonetheless.
In preparation, he donned a bunny mask from some matsuri years ago. He’s pretty lucky it still fits over his face. He’s always been a small guy though. The rest of his disguise is pretty lax—just an oversized hoodie, and some fitting pants and boots. It’s just different enough for no one to suspect he’s Yuuki, but practical enough for him to pretend to be a hero. Just for a day. Maybe he’ll get a better costume after his big debut.
The door of Leblanc opens, and Kurusu spills out with a party of four, if they’re including his pet cat, Morgana. Yuuki waits for them to get a good distance and then, it’s showtime.
(akira.)
Yongen-Jaya station is packed as per the usual. The Phantom Thieves never do manage to get a seat together (with the exception of Akira and Morgana) when they travel to Mementos, and this is probably a blessing in disguise. After all, if they were to be repeatedly spotted disappearing into Mementos together, people might start to get suspicious.
Even with the crowd, it’s hard to ignore the person in the bunny mask that’s been following them. During the course of his stay at Yongen-Jaya, Akira has learned the hard way to look over his shoulder without drawing attention to himself. Slipping under the masked person’s radar is pretty easy. They don’t seem to be very observant. In fact, they’re making a bit of a scene right now, freaking out over something on their phone.
Before he can realize it, Akira’s gaze lingers too long, and the masked person shoves their phone away and stares at the subway doors. Akira looks down at his shoes.
Morgana pops out of his bag. “You saw them too, right?”
Akira gives a brief nod.
“Let’s keep an eye on them, alright? I get a bad feeling.”
Akira nods again, giving an affirmative grunt along with it.
🌕🍡🐇
Sweet, sweet Shibuya... it feels like a second home with how much Akira travels here to pick up supplies and go into Mementos. He could probably sleep in Mementos and feel safe if not for the Reaper, who will have gatekept them for the last time next time Akira sees him.
Just outside of the underground walkway, the party meets back up. Despite the bad leg, Ryuji outpaces Yusuke on their way to Akira and Morgana. When Yusuke approaches, Ryuji leans back on him, out of breath. Begrudgingly, Yusuke puts his arms around him for support.
“Man, I can’t believe we’re only doing one request today. I'd almost rather crash girls' night at Kichoji. Can't we just sneak and play darts?” Ryuji complains.
“Personally, I would’ve liked a trip to Ueno. They’ve got a new exhibition on the works of Gakano Kaiga,” Yusuke chimes in.
“Dude, I’d so much rather be in Mementos than stand around all day looking at ink on paper.” He yelps as Yusuke throws him off. He whips around, eyes blazing. “Hey! What the hell!”
Yusuke folds his arms, looking above Ryuji. “You can come back into my arms when you embrace an appreciation for the fine arts.”
“Whatever.” Ryuji shoves his hands in his pockets. He turns his attention to Akira. “So, what made you want to come here for just one request? I thought you were more of a let ‘em pile up and then go do ‘em kinda guy.”
“This one sounded important to Mishima,” Akira answers simply.
Morgana nods in agreement. “Plus, Mishima said this guy gets really hard on his son around Tsukimi. They make mochi at Kanda for the festival. That gives us a deadline of about seven days. Might as well go ahead and get it done, right?”
“You know what, I’ve heard of that shop! One of the old track guys used to talk about it every Tsukimi, tryin’ to get us to come with him. The tsukimi dango recipe’s been passed down for generations, so it's supposed to be like, perfect or whatever.” Ryuji shrugs. “Between a shrine and somewhere exciting like the Skytree, you know where I’m headed.”
“Oh, Akira, are you planning on attending Tsukimi in Kanda this year? I’d love to do some people watching there. Maybe I’d even be inspired by the shrine there,” Yusuke lilts. Then his face falls a bit. “But, I probably don’t have the money to go.”
“Open your arms back up buddy, because I’ve got the paper for your passion,” Ryuji says, and like a charm, Yusuke spreads his arms out again. They hold tight together like an easel clamps onto a canvas.
Akira casts his eyes downward. He knows he tends to stare too long. He just doesn’t know how else to indicate that someone has something he wants. Not that he wants Ryuji or Yusuke, just what they have together. The ability to hold onto someone despite the rough edges is something that can be so personal. Akira hates to feel needy, and the idea of yearning for something burns his mind like egg on summer concrete.
Oh well, let it burn, he supposes.
With a tilt of his hand, he motions the other guys to follow him into Mementos. He can’t shake the feeling that they’re being watched, but in a relatively more barren area, it’s easier for someone to spot his gaze. Akira keeps his head down.
🌕🍡🐇
The Nav app opens a hole into another reality through which they slip in, gaining access to the labyrinth. Behind them, someone yelps in surprise.
The party whips around. Joker straightens his posture once he catches sight of their pursuant. It’s the person with the bunny mask. He eases, but only slightly. They’ve still got the black mask to worry about, but this person is wearing a white one.
They don’t seem to be a threat. They’re backing away from the party, likely feeling cornered. They drop their phone and look around wildly for some sort of escape.
Skull starts walking toward them, smacking his bludgeon in an open hand. “You better start talkin’ before the blunt end of this meets your face.”
Joker dashes in-between them. He squints at the bunny mask. If they’re here and not a shadow, they must be a persona user. It would be unwise to pick a fight with someone with that kind of power. He shakes his head in disapproval at Skull.
“Aw, come on! We don’t know this guy! He could be pretending not to be dangerous!” Skull shouts.
“Look at him! He’s terrified!” Mona points out.
“Perhaps we can handle this with the art of conversation,” Fox suggests.
Joker throws a curt nod his way.
The four approach the masked person. He appears ready to run, but fear is holding him back. He’s practically shaking. His dark brown eyes are constantly switching between each party member, waiting to see which one is coming over to dismember or bludgeon him.
Mona puts his hands on his hips. “Let’s start things off easy. What’s your name?”
The boy manages to stammer nonsense once he gets over the very confusing and mind-bending reality of a talking monster cat. Eventually he forms words to say, “I’m... um... well... Tsukino Usagi.”
Confused by the masked boy, Skull leans his head on one shoulder. He scratches his temple briefly. “Ain’t that a girl’s name?”
Tsukino throws his arms over his chest. “No! It’s not! That’s my name, I swear!” he protests.
“You sound familiar,” Joker states.
“Do I?” Tsukino deepens his voice to the point that it’s practically comical.
“Dude,” Skull groans. “What’re you doing here anyway? We’ve never seen you before.”
“I come here all the time! We’re like ships passing in the night, I suppose,” Tsukino chuckles awkwardly. “I change people’s hearts. Same as you guys.”
Fox folds his arms. “Same as us?”
Tsukino’s caught off guard. He throws his hand up in front of his face. “Ah! I mean, you’re the Phantom Thieves, aren’t you? You’ve got a group here, so I just assumed...”
“UH, assumin’ makes an ass outta everybody!” Skull shouts, leaning forward in the boy’s face. “Can’t just go around throwin’ out accusations like that. You don’t look like you’re ready to be here. Why don’t you just go home?” he asks, pointing his bludgeon toward the exit.
This troubles Tsukino as his eyes crinkle behind the bunny mask. “I just thought I could help,” he falters.
Without meaning to be so aggressive, Joker takes Tsukino by the shoulder. He lets his grip linger there, just for a moment, trying to make eye contact for long enough to send the message that he understands. And... if his assumption is correct, he’s understood for a while now.
No words exchanged, Joker leads him down the train platform. Tsukino stiffens in his hold, but walks along anyway. Mona bounces after the two, leaving behind a dumbstruck Skull and Fox.
“You can’t be serious! This guy’s gonna get killed out here!” Mona warns.
“Can’t learn to swim if someone doesn’t push you in first,” Joker replies coolly.
Mona huffs, but doesn’t question Joker’s logic. Jumping onto the tracks below, the cat turns into a car, startling Tsukino. He tries to look at it from every angle, but can’t seem to wrap his head around it.
By the time Skull and Fox catch up, Joker’s already thrown himself in the backseat with the newbie. As Joker nods at the pair, Skull gets the memo to drive with Fox up front. Mona lets out a small grumble when Skull takes the wheel and burns rubber out of the entrance.
In the back, Joker spreads his legs across the aisle and leans back, arms spanning a good half of the backseat. It feels good to be back here for once instead of leaning over the wheel, always on edge. Skull does a terrible job driving, but it’s worth the de-stressing Joker didn’t know he desperately needed until now.
Tsukino sort of folds in on himself, hands clasped in his lap and legs closed tightly. His attention is consistently on the back of the front seat, as if terrified of the dark and unsettling environment of Mementos.
“Take a left here,” Fox orders Skull.
“You ain’t got a Nav like Futaba. I bet that’ll be a dead end,” Skull grumbles.
“I’m willing to bet a beef bowl that it’s not.”
Skull takes a hard left and careens through a door, pulling them into a station stop. He pulls the parking break and glares begrudgingly at Fox.
“Well, you know how I like them,” Fox says as he exits the car.
“Yeah, yeah, more noodles, more broth, beef to taste,” Skull mutters under his breath. “Motherfucker,” he somehow manages to say affectionately.
Joker leads Tsukino out of the car, taking his hand for safety as they trek down further into the Path of Akzeriyyuth. It just feels like the noble thing to do. He doesn’t know Tsukino, not really, even though he suspects he does. But, for some reason, he feels an immense need to protect him as they near their target.
“I never go this far in,” Tsukino mumbles. With his hand in Joker’s, he finally relaxes enough to take a look around. The unnatural green lighting seems to put him in a weird space between on edge and at ease. He looks at Joker curiously. “How many requests do you do?”
“Every one I’m given,” Joker replies. He furrows his brow, but throws the suspicion away.
Mona doesn’t detect the target on this floor, so the team hops back into the car. Tsukino lightens up enough to cross his legs. Joker leans over the top of the front seat.
“I wish I had a team to help me like you guys,” Tsukino says aloud. It’s a bit stiff, like only a small percentage of truth lies within, but it’s enough to not ring alarm bells in Skull and Fox at least.
Joker folds his hands under his chin and smiles at Tskukino. “Would you like one?” he asks.
Tsukino’s breath hitches, eyes beaming at Joker. “The Espresso Smile...” he whispers under his breath. Joker hums questioningly. “I mean— I’d really like one. If you all wouldn’t mind.”
“Hey, we’re kinda full up right now,” Skull barks from the passenger seat. He flicks his eyes toward Fox every so often to watch his calm composure while driving. “And anyway, we haven’t even seen you fight. How do we know you’re any good?”
“I’m plenty good! I’ve even got a gun!” Tsukino draws his weapon, pointing it upward. Joker throws himself to the side of the car.
There’s no doubt about it—that is a real gun. Skull spots it in the rearview mirror and flinched accordingly.
“How the hell’d you get your hands on that?” Skull shouts, voice cracking a bit.
“I’ve got connections. After Kamo— uh, after hearing about Kamoshida... I just figured I probably need something to protect myself.”
Fox flicks his wary eyes up at the rearview mirror. “Do you go to Shujin?”
“Oh, no, but I just worry your school isn’t the only one with shady faculty, you know,” Tsukino excuses himself.
“We don’t go to Shujin either,” Skull lies quickly.
Tsukino throws his head back in surprise. He starts to comb a hand through the back of his hair, but finds his path blocked by his hood. He adjusts it to be tighter, just in case anyone’s noticed his dark blue hair.
“My mistake then,” he says.
And it is his mistake, because Joker’s got him pinned down like the rabbit he is. Now he's fully ready to see how this will play out.
🌕🍡🐇
Eventually, they reach their target at the very end of Akzeriyyuth. It’s a slightly hunched over middle-aged man wearing an apron and a customer-friendly smile. His golden eyes gleam behind reading glasses. According to Mishima, his name is Yamada Shinsuke.
Tsukino rushes forward, almost as if he can’t believe his eyes. “Yamada-san!” he cries in disbelief.
“You know this guy?” Skull asks, turning his head in confusion. When Tsukino doesn’t respond, Skull points his glare at the Shadow Yamada. “Are you the guy overworking his son?”
“I overwork him because he lazes about doing nothing all day! What else is there to life but mochi? If he doesn’t like the family business, I’ll just teach him to like it!” Shadow Yamada rages.
“No... Yamada-san... Shiro needs a break,” Tsukino says softly.
“What was that?” Shadow Yamada shouts, making Tsukino back away. “You think you know my son better than I do? I’ll pound your brain in!”
The shadow reveals himself to take the form of a Girimehkala, an anthropomorphic elephant demon with one eye. He towers over the group, a look of impending doom heavy in his eye.
Before Tsukino can wander too closely to the demon, Fox snatches him up in his arms. Joker and Skull fall back, and with the quick synchronization befitting of best friends, they release the magazines of their guns to restock. Then, they open fire on the shadow. Bullets are repealed back at them, but Fox’s high counter manages to shield them.
Tsukino hops out of Fox’s arms to hide behind Joker. Fox pants, free of the weight. Skull grabs Tsukino by the shoulder and turns him around to face the fight with them.
“Hey! Are you gonna help us out or not?” Skull chides.
“I’ve never fought anything like him before!” Tsukino protests.
“Neither have we,” Fox says as he unsheathes his katana.
Goemon’s ghastly figure appears behind Fox. He throws his arm forward, and the warrior mirrors him, casting the frigid snow and hail that composes Bufula at the Girimehkala. It doesn’t faze the shadow much, but he doesn’t seem to resist it either.
The Girimehkala stomps his foot and the wooden stakes of Mudoon come out of the ground in front of Fox. Skull runs as fast as his legs can carry him, but he only manages to trip over himself as the curse takes Fox under. Skull cries out, pounding a fist on the ground. Joker tries not to be affected. He’s seen this attack before in Futaba’s palace from the Anubis. But Skull’s reaction is split-second, so he can’t differentiate it despite the fact that it’s only temporary. Joker wonders if a radical love such as that would befit him also.
“You’ll pay for this, bastard!” Skull roars.
He tumbles forward first, then rights himself with a fierce stance. Captain Kidd sails in behind him and delivers a strong blow of Mazionga that streaks like lightning across the whole of the arena as Skull screams without any sign of his lungs giving out.
The Girimehkala is yet again unfazed. Joker dashes past Skull and takes a stab at the shadow’s knee, only to be repelled, thrown backward at Skull. They crash together with Joker able to get up faster.
“What the hell! This guy ain’t lettin’ up!” Skull complains. “Maybe we should make like rats and scatter!”
“We have to try! Mishima is counting on me!” Joker says with a fierceness. “I’ll run my persona into the ground before I give up the fight,” Joker discloses, feeling his bottled emotions finally spill their contents.
He hesitates to look at the rest of the party, but the reception is hard to ignore. Skull and Mona are baffled, while Tsukino’s dropped his shoulders like some big revelation’s just dawned on him. Joker wonders if... no... probably not.
Skull punches Joker’s shoulder. “I’ve got you, bro. Let’s finish this.”
Lighting crashes down on the Girimehkala, but it remains standing as if there’s been no dents out in it as of yet. Joker tries an Agilao from his Isis persona, but the shadow resists it, throwing his brick-like arms up against the flames.
Joker’s ready to cycle through every ability of every persona he’s got, but the wind is stolen from his sails when he spots Skull drop to his knees, stakes making a scarecrow out of him. Joker exclaims and slides on his knees to his side. He should’ve figured out the shadow’s weakness sooner.
He really might have to escape now in order to save Tsukino, who shows no sign of power whatsoever. Joker looks between the shadow and Tsukino. Tsukino’s closer to the car than the rest of the party. Joker can’t carry both of his teammates.
He begins to make a mad dash for Fox first. Skull would never forgive Joker if he took him out first and left Fox to the shadows. Stakes block Joker’s path no matter how he tries to run around them. Arsène does a good job of protecting him from their instant-killing power at least.
Joker flings a foolhardy Eiha at the Girimehkala, but the shadow only absorbs the power, nulling it.
The mighty shadow stomps it’s feet as if ready to charge. The concrete beneath them quakes, throwing Joker off-balance and completely flinging Tsukino away. The boy hits the car and appears knocked out. Joker struggles to get up, but the ground still shakes below him and his vision is dizzy. Tomorrow seems like a fruitless hope at this point.
(yuuki.)
Things start coming back into focus. The shadow that was Yamada is closing in on the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Yuuki tries to move but finds himself unable to. He’s so weak. So fucking weak. He’s about to get the Phantom Thieves all killed because of a stupid fortune he wanted to believe because he’s just a stupid kid who’ll believe anything anybody tells him if it sounds good.
He’s so stupid. How could he be so stupid to think he could run around with the Phantom Thieves and not go unharmed? His back feels like someone’s dropped a five-story building on top of it. He doesn’t think he’ll be getting up any time soon, and neither will anyone in front of him.
His vision starts to fade again.
But he has to get up! Goddamnit, he has to!
That’s not just the leader of the Phantom Thieves out there! It’s Kurusu Akira! He knows it in his heart to be true. He knows he’ll be letting him down. His only friend might die here because he was selfish enough to ride his coattails. Yuuki can’t let that happen.
He pushes himself until he can’t push anymore. His feet are planted firmly on the ground. His stance is shaky, but he’s standing. He staggers around, tilting this way and that, to the left and right, forward and backward, and his back hurts, but he’s moving. At some point, he faceplants on the cold, hard concrete, and he drags himself back up, stumbling forward, but forward nonetheless.
With his shuffling gait, he finally reaches the unconscious Kurusu. For a moment, it feels like they’re finally on equal ground. It’s a selfish thought, but Mishima knows they’ve never been closer in weakness. It makes him want to scream until his throat’s raw, cry until his eyes burn, and maybe a despicable part of himself who is truly dumbfounded by this turn of events could even dare to laugh in the face of Thanatos.
Mishima falls more than he kneels at Kurusu’s side. His head leans, heavy, upon Kurusu’s chest. If not for the present danger, he might’ve stayed there forever. A gentle thrum of life beats against his ear every so often. Rushing relief flows through every part of Mishima’s body.
He stands and turns on his heel, arms spread out, an unfortunately penetrable wall, but a well-meaning one. The shadow seems to have no emotion about it one way or the other, but Mishima can feel the target that’s been placed upon him.
Cold hands slither up his shoulders, around to his neck, and eventually one hand finds solace around his cheek. As if someone had untied the strings behind his head, his mask slips from his face, shattering on the ground, baked clay scattering everywhere. A mist of blessèd breath fogs around his ears and a sense of dizziness like a fainting spell suddenly hits him. He shakes it off. He has to shake it off. He’s standing tall and nothing is going to get past the wall that he’s mentally constructed.
He will protect Kurusu at. all. costs.
“I won’t let it end here!” Yuuki yells at the top of his voice, as if it might scare the shadow. It remains unfazed, but Yuuki feels a burning passion now that cannot be extinguished.
From somewhere in his mind, an emotionless voice emerges, “You have finally emerged from behind the screen. You know now that life isn’t something that can be protected from a distance. Our contract follows as per the rules of the monologue...”
Air feels like a commodity as Yuuki begins to feel boxed in, like someone’s encased his head in a metal trapping. While thankfully lightweight, it's still a burden to keep his head up. His hands shoot up to remove it, but he finds that it’s sealed onto his neck.
“... I am thou, thou art I... escape from the trappings you bound yourself in and explore your true potential.”
A swift gust of wind pushes Yuuki to the ground, shattering the screen of whatever is hanging on his head. He pushes himself up off the ground, staring at broken glass and blood as he does so. He staggers backwards but upright nonetheless and finds a flame burning in his heart.
He gives a cursory glance to a stirring Kurusu. The hope that he could still be alive and kicking tomorrow is something so blissful. And, he thinks, he could probably get used to this feeling.
(akira.)
Joker looks up at the shadow, perhaps the last one he’ll ever lay eyes on. He’s been pretty content with his life so far. He found a father figure in Sojiro, found a little sibling he never knew he needed in Futaba, picked up a good group of friends along the way... what else could he have pined for? He won’t ask Tsukino— no, Mishima— to help him. He shouldn’t have been so reckless as to let him follow him here.
He just wanted to give him a chance... god, that’s all he wanted. Joker closes his eyes, accepting of what’s to come.
“I won’t let it end here!”
Joker’s eyes bolt open. He tries to push himself upward on his right arm, flinching from his heavy wounds as he does so.
Mishima stands in front of him, shielding him from what may come. Blue flames enveloping his head, the sign that he’s awakened something in himself.
Joker’s vision fades out for a moment, but when it comes back, Mishima’s appearance has gone up in flames. He’s wearing a puffy white coat with royal blue gloves streaking up his arms. In a way, it’s sort of ridiculous with the baggy white pants and black boots, but Joker’s not really sure what he expected from the guy. The IBM computer head with bunny ears coming out of it definitely caught him off guard.
“If you want him, you’re gonna have to go through me!” Mishima throws his arm upward. “Come, Talos!”
Above Mishima floats the ghastly form of a bronze man, decorated with Greek patterning all across his body, which is disconnected at every major joint. The persona, Talos, is reminiscent of the Vitruvian Man, with four upper and lower limbs. A single cord filled with golden ichor runs from the back of its head to the rightmost of four ankles. It hovers around Mishima, rotating every piece of its detached self, movement unpredictable and existence in general mysterious.
Divine light centers itself in Mishima’s hands before he shoots it dead center at the Girimehkala. The shadow is knocked back at least twenty feet. It must have been a Kouga. Joker feels almost blessed to have been able to witness it.
Mishima turns around, probably beaming ear to ear behind the flaming screen. Joker motions for him to do a follow-up attack, since he has the chance. Any other time they might be able to do a hold up, but Joker plans on keeping his life, and he’s too tired to keep going.
Instead of pursuing the enemy, Mishima hies to Joker’s side, kneeling in front of him.
“Mishima...” Joker croaks out. He can’t even finish the sentence, but it wouldn’t amount to much more than “keep up the attack.” Anything else would have to wait for a rainy day when they’d run out of things to say.
“I’m not leaving you like this. Someone has to heal you.” Mishima looks dumbly at his own hands. He knows what he can do, but at the same time, he doesn’t know he can do it.
Gloved hands run across Joker’s cheeks. Feebly, he tries to grasp Mishima’s arm so that he might be pulled up from off the ground. This isn’t the intention though, Joker realizes, as he finds his strength coming back to him. It’s for sure a Diarahan, but Mishima lets his touch linger longer than Mona would. If Joker’s mind could wander, he’s not sure if he would want to reel it back in. The light is so warm, he doesn’t want this gentle caress to end.
Fully reinvigorated, Joker stands with some help, steadying himself on Mishima. He looks the other boy up and down. It’s one thing to see the outfit from afar, but seeing it up close is another. Mishima’s actually taller now on account of his heels. It flusters and frustrates Joker to no end, and that’s not even the worst part. Because of the blank screen, he can’t see Mishima’s face, and that’s the sin of all sins because he finally feels like he has the strength to... well, Joker looks down and scratches his cheek in embarrassment that only he knows about. Maybe he doesn’t quite have that strength yet.
Mishima jabs a thumb over his shoulder. “You grab Sakamoto, I’ll get Kitagawa, and we can get out of here. OK?”
“No... we’re finishing this.” Joker fishes around in his coat pocket and produces a couple of revival beads. “I was saving these for a rainy day, but it’s looking torrential.”
“Do you think we can beat him?” Mishima asks, leaning down for emphasis.
Joker grabs Mishima’s hands, making his screen display a blue screen. “I know we can.”
Right before letting go, Mishima bounces their hands a couple times. It almost makes Joker giggle. Almost. Their fingers unlink, one by one, as if they have all the time in the world. Joker watches Mishima hop away to face the main threat, Kougas combating nulled Mudroons, all the while, Mishima seems to be enjoying his time in the spotlight.
Upon realizing he’s smiling too hard, Joker covers his mouth. Then, he realizes something else. He examines his hand. It is very much empty. He furrows his brow, leaning forward. There’s absolutely no way that little shit nicked the beads. But no matter which way he looks at it, those revival beads are gone.
A loud honk alerts Joker to the presence of cat-car Mona, who’s pulled up right beside him. Joker hoists himself into the driver’s seat and kicks the gas pedal into the concrete.
Rubber burns, and the fight drones on. Mishima’s ears somehow seem to perk, and he leaps up and backwards, almost fantastically from such a distance. Joker leans back to watch the elegant and lithe form of the former athlete as he practically soars through the proverbial stars. Joker feels his heart soaring in the air along with him. Mishima lands feet first on the hood of the car.
With the Girimehkala dizzy after the last Kouga, they’ve got an opening for a hold up, and Joker is gunning for an all-out attack.
They crash into the shadow. Mishima tucks and rolls. Joker makes a swift exit. The car flies at least thirty feet in the air before turning back into Mona. The evil is defeated.
In place of the shadow is Yamada once again, a regretful look on his face. Mishima approaches with caution at first, but speeds up once he takes notice of Joker’s confidence. He also doesn’t really know what to do with his hands, so he just kinda stands awkwardly with his arms at his sides. Joker wonders if he does this weird awkward-cute thing on purpose.
This can be handled outside Mementos. Joker turns his attention back to the feeble old man.
“I’m sorry to have put you boys through that,” Yamada says.
“Neither of us is the person you should be apologizing to,” Joker reminds him firmly.
A deep anguish streaks across Yamada’s already pained countenance. “I’m sure he hates me too much to accept an apology.”
“No, Yamada-san!” Mishima cries, “Shiro thinks the world of you! He just can’t work all the time like you expect.”
Yamada perks his head up. “But what will I do about my business?”
“That’s for you to figure out.” Joker says.
The shadow bows his head in thanks, and a golden light envelops him as the intangible treasure appears. Joker nods for Mishima to take it, but he becomes flustered at the idea. Flustering him even more, Joker takes Mishima’s hand in his so they can take the treasure together. And it’s...
A piece of mochi. Makes sense enough.
Though Joker’s eyes are concentrated on the mochi in Mishima’s hand—and Mishima’s hand in his hand—he notices out of the upper corner of his eye that Mishima is trying to close the gap between them. He flicks his eyes upward, a serious look and a reminder that they’re still in their costumes. Mishima takes his hand and the mochi back, rubbing the back of his helmet in embarrassment.
“Oh!” Mishima exclaims. He holds out the revival beads. “I forgot to give these back to you.” He drops them into Joker’s extended hand. “I figured today was more of an overcast day, you know. You should save those for a more dire day. Although... I really did think we were goners. I can’t apologize enough for putting us in this situation!” Mishima bows deeply, helmet threatening to tip him all the way over.
Joker shrugs it off. “Can’t say no one got hurt, but at least nobody died. We should get them out of here before they do though...”
“R—Right,” Mishima nods.
On the way back to the entrance, Skull and Fox sleep soundly in the backseat while Joker drives up front with Mishima.
Silence is Joker’s forte, but it’s abnormal when he’s not the only one who isn’t speaking. Quiet, still air chokes all conversation to death, stale and unyielding for breath. Nothing kills the mood like complete and total silence. So, consider the mood killed. Driving back home from Mementos has now become a reflection on death and dying.
In a way, Joker wishes he could be sleeping in the backseat. Maybe not all cuddled up to someone like Skull and Fox. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? He doesn’t love affection. He likes it—doesn’t love it. So his feelings for Mishima are utterly baffling. He wants to make Mishima weak at the knees, make him melt with just the sound of his voice, and above all else, wants to adore him and know adoration in return. But it’s all so much to ask of one person.
There have been so many times he’s wanted to say something, only to close his mouth and bury those feelings somewhere deep under Leblanc.
If Joker could get away with it, he’d just... well, he might deign to hold Mishima’s hand, and mean to hold it. Longer than a second. Not one of those brushes of knuckles. Not a guiding hand. Not some play at holding hands when really they’re just exchanging an item. No, he wants to hold his hand. He just wants— no he needs somebody to touch him. And mean it. Mean to touch him. Mean to be there, mean to invade his personal space, mean to make contact, skin to skin, and only in the most innocent of ways. No, he doesn’t notice that his hands are gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual.
Because, for all intents and purposes, Joker realizes he’s not a reliable narrator even in his own mind. He’s so willing to jump to the idea that he’s too stoic for a stupid and loving relationship that he ignores all the ways Mishima makes his heart skip a beat when he talks about everything he does for him and the other Phantom Thieves.
And really, wouldn’t it just be giving Mishima something in return for all that dirty work if Joker held his hand? held him close? held his chin with quaking hands before closing the gap with trembling, parted lips?
He’s not cool, he’s not suave. Joker’s not anything, as far as Joker’s aware, except for the fact that he is Joker. He just wonders if Mishima has peeled back the layers yet, or if his mask is truly so glued to his face.
Joker sits back in his seat, exhaling a large amount of breath. His head lolls slightly to get a better look at Mishima. He’s currently twiddling his index fingers.
“Talk to me,” Joker demands.
“You wouldn’t want to hear about the Phan-Site, would you?” Mishima pipes up.
A smile spreads across Joker’s face. “The day I don’t want to hear about the Phan-Site, the moon must have crashed into the earth.”
As Mishima leans his head back in disbelief, the IBM screen goes blue, then, red, then green, then finally back to the blank black. He whips his phone out and once the surprise of getting to info-dump wears off, he excitedly scrolls through his notes app.
“Ok, so in 1.4.4...”
(yuuki.)
Tsukimi arrives. Kanda is alive and flourishing with natives, tourists, and generally everyone who’s out to have a good time tonight under the harvest moon. Traditional dances spark the interest of those who observe, and lanterns light the way to the shrine. Pampas is set out for the spirits, and pyramids of mochi are stacked all around the shrine.
Yuuki would absolutely be out in the crowd and moon-gazing if not for his new job...
...making mochi.
Yes, he gave Shiro the break he needed by accepting Yamada-sensei’s job offer. So what though? It’s one out of probably about fifty Tsukimis Yuuki will have ever missed. Shiro's never experienced one without being behind a booth. Yuuki’s grateful to have been able to be a part of the changing hearts process, both inside and outside of Mementos.
People mostly want last-minute mochi to take home and display. Some people like to enjoy it on the streets. Yuuki typically belonged to the latter half, and he still gets to enjoy some, even if it does come out of his pay.
It’s a win overall.
During a relatively slow spell of the night, Yamada-sensei takes a well-deserved seat on a fold up chair behind the booth. Mishima rubs the sweat off his forehead and goes to wash his hands.
“You know, you’re pretty good at a pestle,” Yamada-sensei says. He gives Yuuki a sly smile. “You sure I taught you all you know?”
Yuuki chuckles, flicking his wrists dry. “Well, let’s just say it kind of feels like destiny that I’d be here.”
Stroking his chin, Yamada-sensei hums. “You know... that reminds me... do you like those Phantom Thief fellows?”
Of course that just activated the part of Yuuki’s brain that is completely dedicated to every bit of knowledge he has about the Phantom Thieves. It’s a pretty big space for how little knowledge is actually out there. Yuuki accidentally starts washing his hands again as he tries to hide his smile, eking out a small “Yeah, who doesn’t?”
“This is probably going to sound very strange, but I believe those Phantom Thief guys changed my heart.” Then, his expression becomes downcast. “I know I overworked Shiro. It cannot be denied. But, I really believed I was acting in his best interest. I always told him—and everyone for that matter—that this mochi shop had been passed down for generations... but it was a lie.”
Yuuki turns around, forgetting to dry his hands. “Really?”
“I actually won this shop in a game of shogi. Although I had a passion for making mochi, I didn’t have the money to start my own. Thankfully, the original owner was a gambling man. All I wanted was to instill in Shiro a love for making mochi. I hoped we could create a family tradition and keep the shop up through the years. As you can see, people love our mochi. This is a rare scene,” Yamada-sensei gestures to the lack of a line, laughing slightly.
He becomes serious again, keeping his eyes away from Yuuki, “I thought that if he worked hard at it that it would make him more passionate about mochi. I’m afraid I have driven him farther from it.”
Yuuki sighs. “Yamada-sensei, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Shiro loves mochi. He loves Tsukimi! He just wanted some time to enjoy himself. Especially tonight,” he says, more wistfully than he meant to.
“I’m glad you helped me give him that chance.” Yamada-sensei looks up to the golden harvest moon. “I’m grateful for the Phantom Thieves too.”
At this, Yuuki finds an uncontrollable smile creep up his cheeks. This must be the satisfaction in helping others that Kurusu-san and the others feel daily.
A customer approaches the booth. So, Yuuki returns to his seat at the pestle and on the night goes. He feels ever close to the rabbit making mochi on the moon. Now he just wonders where his beggar is.
🌕🍡🐇
Eventually, Shiro returns and relieves Yuuki of his post. There’s not much of Tsukumi left to experience what with curfew ever approaching, but Yuuki’s sure he’ll find something. The moon is still keeping watch over Tokyo, and the rabbit is still pounding mochi at the pestle.
There’s a stand selling masks. Yuuki browses for a new bunny mask to replace the one that shattered. It’s mostly anime and video game masks, and the closest thing to a bunny is a Pokémon called Buneary. He didn’t think that one was even popular enough to get a mask. Yuuki leaves the stand with his head down and hands in his apron pockets.
Head meets chest—Yuuki barely recognizes that he just bumped into someone. They stumble away from each other with a bit of awkward tension hanging in the air.
“Sorry!” Yuuki immediately bows in apology, probably too deeply.
With no response given, he opens one eye in hesitancy to look up. The other person has a blue bunny mask on. Under their arm is a box of tsukimi dango from Yamada’s shop. They’re woefully silent with staring crimson eyes. Yuuki isn’t sure what to think until they take the mask off, revealing the soft smile of Kurusu.
Kurusu hands the mask to Yuuki. He reaches out at first, but retracts his hand quickly.
“I’m not sure I can accept. Doesn’t this remind you of Mementos? Of how badly I screwed up?” Yuuki cringes so hard he flinches into himself.
“You didn’t screw up. If you weren’t there, I wouldn’t have had any real way of damaging that shadow,” Kurusu explains. So here, he says with the gesture of handing Yuuki the masks.
Yuuki takes it with caution. “Thank you.”
“No problem... Um, Mishima... would you be interested in joining the Phantom Thieves?” Kurusu asks, hands now firmly set in his pockets.
Oh no. The moment of his dreams. It’s arrived right at his doorstep. But it’s too much. He got the Phantom Thief talk from Morgana and it all flew right over his head. Personas, palaces... it’s just a lot. He’s already got his plate full of the Phantom Thieves Aficionado Website, and there’s no one he can trust to keep the site up. Taking on all of these at once could cause the whole tower to crash down. That’s one arcana he doesn’t want to mess with.
“No... I can’t. Keeping up the Phan-Site is enough work as is.” Yuuki yelps slightly in apology. “B—but if you really really really need me! Of course I wouldn’t hesitate! You can count on me Ak— Kurusu!”
Kurusu slaps a hand on Yuuki’s shoulder. Yuuki tries not to melt under his touch. “Take care of the site. I’m glad to have you on standby.” He takes his hand back to rest his cheek on his knuckles. “Also, call me Akira, please.”
Yuuki’s pretty sure he must be dreaming at this point. He looks up to the moon, still golden, still gleaming. If this is a dream, it’s a pretty nice one.
“O—ok then. But you have to call me Yuuki in return.”
Akira nods curtly. “Yuuki rolls off the tongue.” His phone buzzes, and he fishes it out of his pocket. He scrutinizes the texts still buzzing in before making a small reply. The click-clacking of inputting text is music to Yuuki’s ears. Akira holds his phone out. “Gotta head up to Inokashira Park. Coming with?”
It catches him by surprise. Yuuki really should be getting home by now. It's getting late, and he's still working on the backlog of comments to moderate from his trip to Mementos and the subsequent sleeping in he did afterward. But... would this chance ever come again? It's now or never, and Akira humbly waits for a response.
“Yeah," Yuuki decides. "Coming with."
🌕🍡🐇
It’s no Kanda, but the sky is still clear at Inokashira. If anything, the lack of traffic makes the moon feel more important.
Whippoorwills toss out an occasional melody. Night cicadas and crickets play their harmonies with ease. If one’s lucky, they might hear a squirrel or rabbit scurry past. Conversation fills the night, careful not to completely overtake nature’s song.
The Phantom Thieves occupy a particular piece of railing, sitting on and around it. Kitagawa and Sakura pore over the placement of some pampas around the picnic area. Sakamoto complains about it while Takamaki-san tells him to calm down. Neijima watches over them with vested interest, but probably decides it’s best not to get into it.
Yuuki isn’t sure where he fits into this dynamic. He’s grateful to know them and to know them as the Phantom Thieves. He’s just... not quite sure he wants to walk out of the shadows yet. This is at least a step forward.
When everyone finally takes notice of the Kanda arrivals, Akira presents the group with tsukimi dango. The excitement is absolutely unmatched. At first, Kitagawa and Niejima stack the mochi in the pyramids they’re traditionally arranged in on a makeshift pedestal. Sakamoto quickly becomes impatient, and so they start to split the leftover food.
Despite the massive beatdown in Mementos, Sakamato and Kitagawa are just as alright as they’ve ever been. Not that Yuuki really knows as an outsider. Laughing together and sharing tsukimi dango with each other seems to be a good definition of “alright,” and possibly “great.”
Half an hour before curfew, the moon-watching party wraps up with everyone saying their goodbyes. Yuuki isn’t quite ready for it to end. He’d only gotten there a few minutes ago, and it really only felt like seconds. Really, it’s just nice living outside of a screen rather than behind it. To finally get to be with the people he so avidly supports... it means everything. Seeing their smiles, hearing their laughs, feeling the warmth of their playful jabs, the farewell hugs... Yuuki wants it so desperately to be a staple of his life.
Oh well. Back to watching the screen until he falls asleep tonight, he supposes.
Sakura rocks on her heels waiting for Akira to get done texting someone. He shoves his phone in his jacket pocket.
“Go catch up with Makoto, I’ll be right there,” Akira tells her.
“What about Nishima?” Sakura questions.
“It’s Mishima,” Yuuki corrects.
“Eh. Call it intuition. Good luck with your business.” Sakura pushes her glasses up on her nose before leaving the park to find Neijima.
Intuition... really? Yuuki furrows his brow. And what kind of business would Akira have here? He’s even more confused when Akira takes his hand, leading him along the trail until they find another clearing. This one at least comes equipped with a bench as opposed to a railing to sit on. Yuuki’s actually pretty sure he’s seen Akira here with Yoshizawa. Not that he was spying or anything.
Akira crosses his legs and leans back on the bench. He yawns in the absolutely fakest way Yuuki has ever witnessed. He doesn’t mind though. It just means his arm is now draped over the bench, a sort of ghosting touch hanging around Yuuki’s shoulder.
“The moon’s really beautiful tonight,” Akira murmurs.
Yuuki nods in agreement, words of euphoria dying on his tongue. He’s never really been one to wax poetic about moments of serenity. He plays with his fingers instead. “Yeah, I think this is the first Tsukimi I’ve really enjoyed looking at the moon. I usually just celebrate with my parents... even then, my eyes are usually glued to my phone... so, this was a really nice change of pace.”
He takes a brief look up at the moon, and something warm pecks his cheek. A rush of heat washes over him. Startled, he stares at Akira questioningly. The other boy just pretends that nothing happened.
How is he supposed to respond to that? Yuuki presses his fists against his knees. He bites his lip. It’s a lot to take in all at once, every one of his dreams coming true and all. And somehow, somehow, somehow! Akira somehow manages to be so suave and smooth about it all!
But... he remembers Mementos. He remembers how he found the confidence to protect Akira. He found the confidence to let loose. He even managed to defy him, helping him out in the long run. If only he could summon his persona to help him out here. Alas, it’s a solo mission. He’ll have to go it alone in this labyrinth of emotion.
Yuuki starts by unclenching his fists, letting go of his tension. He leans back into Akira’s arm, prompting Akira to put his hand on Yuuki’s shoulder. Yuuki takes his hand, linking their fingers tight. Akira blushes something awful and tries to hide his face in his shoulder. Yuuki laughs uncontrollably, shocked that he could provoke such a reaction in the cool and collected Akira. The moon really is beautiful, especially tonight of all nights. Maybe it’s time to just accept the good fortune that the Man on the Moon’s bestowed upon him.
“You know, I’ve never actually kissed anyone before. Especially not on a night like this,” Yuuki admits.
He points his gaze at Akira, hoping he’ll take the hint. And, as they share a solemn look, it seems they’re both on the right track.
And then, it happens, everything, and everything again. And again, and more. It’s soft at first, like the outside of mochi ice cream, and it’s all warm breath like the steam off of freshly cooked udon. They stick together like rice, lingering just to chase the leftover sweetness, but split apart all the same. There’s nibbling like Yuuki’s lip is just another piece of meat, and there’s a flutter of eyes opening to watch the other like they’re the moon they’re supposed to be observing tonight. But when the darkness comes again, they slip on a mask, pushing against the other, feeling what it feels like to know the desperation that comes with adoration. They pretend they know what they’re doing, but it’s a delicate process, and they’re afraid of screwing it up. So they take their time and just try to make an impression, make it last, and make it memorable.
When it’s over, Akira’s lips feel like a permanent fixture on Yuuki’s just as the moon is in the night sky. Phantom affection lingers there, and Yuuki can’t help but press his fingers to his mouth just to ponder on the experience.
“We should probably head back, huh?” Yuuki says softly, his heart nowhere to be found in his words.
Akira leans forward, chin supported on his knuckles. “Or... we could break curfew.”
Yuuki scratches the back of his head. “Tonight would be the night to do it, huh?” He chuckles. Any other night he’d be staring at the Phan-Site. Now he’s staring at Akira. It’s more than a welcome change. “Yeah, why not?” he laughs with a bit of newfound confidence. Maybe, just maybe... his heart’s been changed too.
🌕🍡🐇
They remain in the park until closing, safe under the watch of the mochi-maker. Slow hearts, slow touches, and slow kisses close the night like a moonlit sonata Yuuki’s starting to get the hang of.