Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a usual day in Mementos. Well, it was a usual day...right up until the point that it all very much wasn't.

But Akira was getting a little ahead of himself.

——

Akira brushed his gloves together, the red of them looking like twin drops of blood in the mute lighting of Mementos. He fiddled with the edge of one of them as he turned to Futaba. "How far until our next target, Oracle?"

"Um, I could've sworn he was on this floor... But for some reason I'm having trouble finding his reading." Futaba's fingers flew over her console, screens popping up and flashing information too quickly for anyone but her to decipher. "We should find him if we wander around, but I'll keep scanning. It's weird that I can't find him."

Akira hummed in acknowledgement. "It's pretty odd, considering your scanning abilities, but maybe there's something about the public's cognition today that's blocking it."

Futaba's lips twisted down. "I don't think that's it. I was able to find our other two, no problem. It's just this guy who's giving me trouble. But I've felt some strange readings this whole floor."

"Strange readings?" Makoto echoed as the Phantom Thieves all piled back into the Monabus. Akira settled behind the wheel, putting the vehicle in drive as they continued the conversation around him.

"Yeah. It's super weird. I've been getting anomalous readings this whole floor, yet nothing seems out of place. The only strange thing is not being able to find this target." Abruptly, she growled and rubbed at her temples. "Ugh! This is so frustrating! How is this random Shadow messing with my readings like this?"

Akira prepared to smoothly steer them around an approaching corner. "Well, Oracle, it's not your fault. Sometimes the Metaverse does strange—"

"Joker!!!"

Futaba's shriek nearly made him tug the steering wheel, and he swore he felt the vehicle jump in his hands from the Thieves' collective startle. "What is—" A split-second later, he finished the turn and nearly ran face-first into...

"It's the Reaper! It's on top of us!" Futaba shrieked, panicked, screens whizzing by wildly. "Run! Joker!" For a second that seemed to hang, Akira's brain seemed to be stuck in a stand-still, the Reaper's grim form closing the distance between them much too quickly. There was already barely any distance between them to start.

"Joker!! Gun it!!"

Futaba's shrill order finally managed to kick his brain into gear. Akira immediately felt cold sweat run down his back as he realized how close the Reaper already was. Wordlessly, he slammed on the brakes, skidding into a sloppy U-turn that had everyone yelling and clinging on for dear life. The second they were facing away from it, he slammed on the gas, narrowly managing to dodge a bullet it'd shot right where they'd been a moment before.

"It's hot on our trail! Don't stop!"

"Yeah, wasn't planning on it," Akira grumbled through gritted teeth, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple as he yanked the wheel to careen down another hallway. "Oracle, we need the exit to the floor, now!"

"I know! But I can't find it! That anomalous reading is mixing me up!" She sounded harried, and anxious, and maybe a little guilty. Akira knew he'd probably feel bad about pushing her like this later, but right now there was a massive Reaper on their tail with twin shotguns. So. Yeah. "Just keep running!"

Akira grumbled a little more under his breath, but took the next turn anyway.

"Ah!" Suddenly she was leaning over the backseat, bracing her arms over the seats to lean in close to Akira. She pointed to their right urgently. "There! Go there! If we go through, we'll be safe from the Reaper!" When he followed her direction, he saw what looked like the portal to their final target.

Akira glanced in his mirrors, only to see the Reaper's hulking form still seemingly gaining on them. Cursing, he twisted the wheel and they barreled into the portal, several of the Thieves yelling out in fear as they launched through.

And then suddenly, they weren't in the Monabus anymore, something that finally had Akira screaming along with everyone else. He'd felt so much safer when he was flying through the air while inside the bus, thanks very much.

Suddenly, he hit the ground. And it was sudden simply because he hadn't expected it at all. In fact, the place he'd landed wasn't anything like he'd expected. It was dark, pitch-black even; so black that if it was a room, the walls and floor and ceiling weren't visible, not by a long shot. It felt like he'd landed in a patch of pure darkness.

He heard various shuffles and groans as the rest of the Thieves picked themselves up off the ground, grunting in pain all the while.

Without bothering to lift his head from the floor—he needed a few moments to recuperate and rest his beating heart—he checked in with the rest of the Thieves. "Everyone alright?"

Silence met him. Akira frowned. That was kind of odd. He was just about to ask again when—

"What the hell..."

At Ryuji's whispered words, he peeled his face off the floor and looked up, bewildered. And what he saw somehow managed to make even less sense. In fact, the whole Reaper business was entirely forgotten in the span of one second, and judging by the other Thieves' reactions, he wasn't alone in that. Silently, he rose up off the floor, any aches and pains from the hard landing forgotten.

"Who the hell is that?" Ann exclaimed, pointing a gloved finger across the broad expanse of space spanning in front of them at a figure.

Akira followed Ann's finger and turned his attention to the slumped body several paces in front of them. Even from here, he could tell by the body shape and uniform that it was a boy. He seemed young, about their age, silky blue hair falling over one eye messily. The other was closed in what Akira hoped was apparent slumber.

But even more mind-boggling than the boy they'd found, was the door he was slumped against. It dwarfed his body, expanding into the space in front of them with a presence all its own. It towered above and to the sides of them, imposing and, in its own strange way, alive. It seemed to ooze power and aura.

Morgana—it seemed he was unscathed—slowly padded up to the boy. Ann fidgeted nervously, twisting one of her pigtails around a finger, but didn't attempt to stop him. Everyone waited with bated breath as he finally reached the boy and stood in front of him for a while.

"So?" Ryuji finally asked nervously.

Morgana was quiet for a moment. Then, "He's alive. I don't know how he got here or where here even is, but he's alive."

Ann exhaled in relief. Then her gaze travelled up the door in front of them, her eyes drawn as if by a force not her own. "But...what is this place? And what is this thing?"

Morgana shook his head, frustration evident. "I don't know. This place feels strange, but not like anywhere we've ever been before."

Haru approached Morgana, craning her neck back to peer up at the top of the door. "Do you think this door leads to someplace new in Mementos?"

Morgana shook his head again, agitated. "No. This place doesn't have anything to do with Mementos. This place feels different. Mementos led us here, but this isn't Mementos."

Akira could see Morgana growing more and more frustrated with himself, so he stepped in to reassure him. "Don't worry about that right now, Mona. We'll have plenty of time to think about it later."

Makoto nodded, though even she seemed to have trouble keeping her eyes from roving over the foreign structure. "Joker's right. Mona says this isn't Mementos, meaning we don't know what this place even is. It could be hostile for all we know. I think our first priority should be getting that boy out of here and out of the Metaverse." She shivered. "Especially considering what just happened with the Reaper."

Akira nodded. "Sounds like a plan. We can handle that last target another day. Everyone good with heading out for today?"

Resounding nods met his question.

Akira nodded again, this time more of a movement of confirmation than anything else. Honestly, he was trying to steel himself to move. For some reason, every step he tried to take closer to that strange door left him feeling a bone-deep chill. As if something was pushing him away. But. He couldn't let that stop him. As the leader of the Phantom Thieves, he had to take charge in this situation.

He forced himself to approach, even through the encroaching dread and darkness that felt inky and slimy. In fact, the whole room was painted in an inky blackness so deep that it seemed to seep into their clothing. Only the strange boy himself seemed untouched, practically haloed by the unearthly light the door seemed to resonate.

Somewhere behind him, Yusuke hummed. "What a stunning composition." Akira didn't even need to turn around to know he was framing the scene with his fingers, his usual habit. Akira internally commended him for being so obliviously unaffected by the atmosphere of the room.

Futaba piped up from behind him as he continued his approach. "I don't sense any hostiles. In fact, the only one I sense in here other than us is that boy. Though I'm getting a strange reading off that door. Nobody touch it, just to be safe. It could be the Gehenna Gate~," Futaba singsonged ominously, and Akira rolled his eyes. Privately, he was thankful for her breaking the tension with a dumb reference. That was probably why she'd done it.

Ryuji huffed and started past her, coming up next to Akira in the process. "What the hell, man, don't say that kind of thing. This weird goddamn door is creepy enough." Futaba snickered in response.

Akira and Ryuji reached the boy at the same time, and personally he took the chance to get a closer look at him. From this close of a distance, Akira could see that the boy was wearing a uniform that he didn't immediately recognize—but was weirdly vaguely familiar to him. A vivid red armband seemed offensively bright amidst the darkness of the huge room, but the rest of his clothes were simple standard uniform. He had a pair of old headphones and an MP3 player around his neck, but other than that, he seemed pretty nondescript. He had the look of the kind of person who liked to keep their head down. Despite that though, up close, his face seemed rather pretty, with the kind of delicate features some girls would definitely be into.

Akira scanned over the boy's position. He was directly leaning against the door, head lolled down over his chest and legs settled around him liked he'd simply fallen asleep while sitting there. It was weird.

He glanced back at Futaba. "Oracle! Were you serious about not touching the door?" He turned back to the boy. It'd be kind of hard not to touch the door, being that he was leaning right up against it. It'd be easiest just to pick him up as is. Or maybe...

Akira leaned forward and placed a gloved hand on the boy's shoulder, shaking it vigorously. "Hey. Wake up." There was no response. He shook a bit harder, and next to him Ryuji frowned.

"I don't think he's gonna wake up, man."

Akira sighed and shrugged. "I figured it was worth a shot. Oracle?"

"Um. I mean, it should be fine? But, like, I'm not positive nothing bad will happen. The door is giving me strange readings, but none of them are overtly hostile or active, so you might be fine? But I still wouldn't—"

Unceremoniously, Akira scooped the boy up in his arms, in the process slipping his arm between the door and the boy's back without hesitation. (Or, well, maybe he did hesitate, but only for a second). Ryuji cursed and stumbled back, his weapon in hand and legs braced. Akira paused for a second, looking at the door expectantly, but...nothing happened.

Futaba squawked with indignation. "Joker! I was literally saying—"

Akira turned quickly—even despite the boy he was holding in his arms slowing him down—letting his coat flare out dramatically. "Calm down, Oracle. Nothing happened." His back prickled as he strolled nonchalantly back to the rest of the Thieves. He brushed off the irrational feeling that the door was watching him.

Ryuji hurried up to his side. "Man, I never understand how you do this kind of thing. It's like you have no fear."

"I conquered my fear long ago." That wasn't actually true. He just found it easier to power through his fears in the Metaverse, while in his Joker persona.

"Man, you were like this the first time we tried to fight the Reaper, too." Ryuji shook his head, seemingly baffled.

Makoto sighed. "That was out of stupidity, not bravery. Joker just has a habit of reckless decisions. Don't encourage him."

Akira pouted at her. She rolled her eyes.

Morgana bounced up to them, though he seemed strangely subdued. He'd seemed that way since the moment they entered this strange space and found the door. Akira made a mental note to ask him what he was thinking later. "We should get out of here. It's possible this place may become unstable. It feels like it isn't supposed to be here."

Futaba hummed questioningly. "What are you feeling that I'm not, kitty? All I can tell about this room is that it's practically endless empty space."

Morgana huffed and crossed his arms, frowning. "I don't know, okay?" he snapped. "I can just tell that this place is unnatural. Whatever it is, it isn't supposed to be here."

"Are you alright, Mona-chan?" Haru asked tentatively, gently reaching out a hand, as if placating him.

Ann's brows furrowed and she looked down at Morgana. "Yeah, Noir's right. What's got you all high-strung?"

Morgana huffed again. "I...I don't know. I just feel like this place...is familiar somehow."

"Huh?!" Ryuji exclaimed immediately. His voice simultaneously echoed and was consumed by the yawning darkness. "You sayin' you've been here before, Mona?"

He stomped his foot and hissed. "That's not what I mean! I just mean that the way it feels is familiar! Like somewhere else I've been felt similar! I can guarantee you I've never been here before!"

Akira jumped in before they got into a squabble. "I understand what you mean, Mona. I know you haven't been here before. If you manage to figure out what it reminds you of, tell us, okay?"

Slowly, his ruffled fur seemed to settle. "Yeah," he murmured. "Thanks, Joker."

"Don't mention it," he murmured in response, quiet enough that it was only for him. He raised his voice back to a normal volume. "Oracle. Do you think the Reaper is gone?"

"Should be." Sheepishly, she toed at the ground. Err, void? "I'm sorry. If I'd been paying more attention to the other monitors, I would've seen the Reaper coming. I just got so focused on the reading clogging my system. It's my fault."

"It is not your fault, Oracle," Yusuke said simply. "Your systems were being blocked, were they not? You wouldn't have been able to tell it was there regardless."

She kicked the ground. "I guess that's true."

"Don't worry so much, Oracle," Haru said kindly, putting a hand on her elbow. "We know you're a very skilled navigator. Besides, no one got hurt."

Ryuji gave her a reassuring grin. "Yeah! S'not like we've never had to run from the Reaper before. And if not for that, we wouldn't have found this place, right?"

Makoto nodded primly. "That's true. And if we'd never noticed this place, we would've never discovered this boy. Who knows what would have happened to him in here?"

Akira put a hand on Futaba's head, patting her comfortingly. "You did good. Don't worry about it. We all make mistakes every once in a while. I was getting ready to call it a day anyways."

Eventually, Futaba flipped her mask up in order to give each of them a grateful look. "...Thanks, guys."

——

Akira ended up carrying the unknown boy bridal-style until they reached the entrance to Mementos. "I don't think I'll be able to carry him like this in the real world for long."

"Whaddaya mean, man, you're ripped!" Ryuji exclaimed.

Akira shot him a dry look. "Not that ripped." In fact, even in the Metaverse his arms were tired from the shorter distances he'd had to carry him by hand. He wouldn't call himself 'ripped'. He was fit. Not ripped.

"Skull could carry him piggy-back," Ann volunteered.

Immediately, Ryuji complained. "Hey, what the hell, man! Don't just sign me up for that!"

He was silent as he pondered it for a moment. Then he turned to Ryuji. "Can you do it?"

Ryuji didn't complain, only going similarly quiet. He kicked at the nonexistent gravel on the ground. "I mean...yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, I got him."

Ann beamed at him. "See, Skull is a softie when it counts!"

"Whatever," he mumbled in response, flushing underneath his mask.

Akira clapped him on the shoulder as he hoisted the boy up onto his back. "Thanks, man."

"Of course. I got your back." In a quieter voice, he added, "Plus, we can't just leave this guy in here. We gotta get him somewhere safer. You think Boss'll mind if we head to Leblanc?"

That...was a good question honestly. He hadn't thought too much about it. Boss would...kind of have to be okay with it, at least for now. They didn't have anywhere else to go. "He'll be fine with it," Akira finally responded. "You know he's really nice once it gets down to it." Ryuji nodded.

Akira turned to the rest of the Phantom Thieves. "Alright, we're headed back to Leblanc. Let's go." He turned on his heel and readied the app to lead them out of Mementos.

And he swore, out of the corner of his eye, he could see the both of the twins standing outside the Velvet Room, looking at Ryuji's passenger strangely.

——

"What the hell is this."

Akira twisted a lock of hair nervously around his fingers. "It's just for a little while. Just while we figure out who he is and what he was doing there."

Sojiro pinched his nose in that trademark Sojiro way. "And by 'there', you mean that 'Metaverse' world you kids go to, am I right?"

Akira couldn't help his fidgeting as it intensified. "...Yeah. We found him on our last trip unexpectedly. He wouldn't wake up. I thought we could let him sleep on the couch until he finally wakes up."

Sojiro crossed his arms. "What if he needs medical attention? It's possible he won't wake up on his own."

Exasperated, Akira pled his case. "Well, sure, but he didn't seem to have any injuries. Please, Sojiro. Just until he wakes up."

"He's a random kid. In my attic."

"My room," he corrected. "And Morgana will be watching him."

Sojiro raised an unamused eyebrow. "The cat."

"The cat," Akira confirmed.

The two stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, Sojiro broke eye contact, closing his eyes tightly and sighing. "I trust you know what you're doing, kid."

A relieved smile stretched across his face. "Thanks, Sojiro."

To his surprise, Sojiro rolled his eyes. "Who do you take me for? I'm not just going to throw out some unconscious kid to the wolves. Just figure out what's going on with him and it's fine by me."

Akira smiled. "You're cool."

Sojiro returned his smile in that rough yet kind way of his. "It makes me happy to hear that. Now, let me get you and your friends some coffee..."

——

Sojiro could always count on this rag-tag group of kids to make his supposed-to-be-normal life interesting. After the government, a coffee shop owner had sounded calm. Normal. But of course, nowadays his life was often weirder than back when he worked for the government. Funny how life throws stuff at you like that.

The group of kids in question were currently piled into two booths, fiddling nervously with their phones or murmuring amongst themselves. After about two hours, Sojiro noticed that the cat—the cat which was supposed to be the boy upstairs' watchman—came down and joined the rest of the group. When they asked the cat about it—that was still something he wanted to double-take at—he replied with something that was apparently a good enough argument that no one put up a fight.

Sojiro glanced up from where he was drying some glasses. "Maybe you kids should go home for the day." A glance up at the clock would show that with all their time waiting, seven o'clock had rolled around.

"But...he's gotta wake up soon, right?" Sakamoto said, but his voice was edged with nervousness and his leg was bouncing under the table.

Niijima shook her head. "Not necessarily. We've never had anything like this happen before. We don't know how long it may take for him to wake up, or if he'll wake up at all."

The cat meowed something. Sojiro sighed as they all turned and listened to him sagely. "Can someone translate?"

Akira started. "Oh— Uh, Morgana just said that he doesn't think that'll be a problem. He says he'll wake up sooner or later."

Niijima sighed and gestured upstairs, eyes locked on Morgana. "And how do you know that?"

The cat meowed again. Okumura frowned lightly. "Mona-chan..."

Akira helpfully translated. "He says he 'just has a feeling'."

Sojiro nodded in the most no-nonsense way he could. "Uh huh." Akira merely responded with an apologetic smile. Cheeky brat. He's lucky I love him.

Sakamoto leaned over the booth to the one behind him, peeking over Kitagawa's shoulder. "Hey, man, whatcha doing?"

Kitagawa didn't look up from his work, pencil gliding over his paper in quick, light strokes. "I am sketching the scene we saw today. Ever since stumbling upon that door I have been struck by blinding inspiration!"

Immediately Sakamoto's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Man...that's seriously what you're able to focus on here? I don't think I'll ever get that about you. I'm so high-strung I can't think about anything else. Like...how did he even get there? We've never seen anyone else in there like that!"

Sakamoto started spouting off questions, but Sojiro stopped listening at the look on Futaba's face. She was sitting next to Kitagawa on her computer, her body facing the stairs. And her eyes were currently glued to them.

Sojiro turned his own attention to the stairs and managed to catch the barest glimpse of movement. He watched as the unknown kid hovered around the middle of the stairs, warily scanning the cafe and the rest of his surroundings. He moved with startling subtlety, managing to avoid the attention of everyone bar himself and Futaba. But though his bodily movements were smooth and slow, his eyes flicked around with what was surely panic.

Sojiro knew immediately he had to step in. "Hey, kid." The kid's attention turned to him, then startled when he realized Sojiro was staring right back at him. "Come on down." The rest of the room went quiet as the Thieves finally noticed the boy up and about.

In the silence, they could all hear Sakamoto's hiss. "What the hell, Mona! 'I'd hear him walking around' my ass."

Sojiro ignored Sakamoto and the cat's subsequent response (not like he could understand it anyway) in favor of focusing on the new kid. When they'd brought him in, he hadn't had much of a chance to take a good look at him. Now that he was awake and aware, he realized that maybe his first impression was a little off the money. With his hairstyle and the headphones wrapped around his neck, Sojiro had assumed he'd be more of a delinquent type. But judging by his somewhat doe-eyed expression and quietness now, he pegged the kid more for a shy straight-laced type than a hooligan. It was hard to say, though, considering that from the kid's perspective, he was in a completely unknown environment.

It was obvious he was uncomfortable by the way he moved, but he did listen to Sojiro's words and entered the cafe, hovering somewhere around the bathroom door. It seemed like he was wary of everyone in the room, but the large group of Akira and his friends seemed like the more daunting thing in his mind.

Sojiro made an executive decision. He'd told himself he'd let Akira and his friends handle their own otherworldly business, but not this time. This time, all he could see was a kid who was overwhelmed and unsure, and that group sure as hell wouldn't handle it as well as he could.

So he made sure to speak up long before any of them could get the idea to. "Hey, kid. You hungry?" Without waiting for an answer, he was already scooping a serving of rice and curry onto a plate for him. No kid that age could resist food. If he'd learned anything from that Kitagawa kid, it was that you can never estimate just how much a simple gesture like this could mean to someone.

To his surprise, the kid didn't say anything. Just shrugged.

Sojiro's instinct was to frown, but he forced himself to keep an open face. He didn't want to be misconstrued. "Really, it's fine, kid. It's not any trouble." He placed the full plate on the bar in front of him, the smell wafting around the café. Really, a meal could be so much more inviting than people for this kid right now. "Eat up."

The boy hesitated. It seemed like he wanted to accept it, but he still needed more encouragement.

Sojiro gave him his best warm smile. "I don't bite, kid. Seriously, I wouldn't be offering if I didn't want you to take it."

Finally, the boy very, very slowly slipped into the bar seat. And then he proceeded to stare at the curry as if he was a dog that'd been told 'no' toward eating a treat. Okay, so he needed just one more little push.

Sojiro busied himself at the coffee maker, hoping that the boy felt more at ease without his attention on him. "Try to eat it while it's hot," he said neutrally, keeping his gaze on his work.

After a while, he finally heard the boy pick up his spoon. Internally, Sojiro was grinning in success. People tended to tell him he was intimidating, but to hell with what they said. He liked to think he was a lot better with kids than people gave him credit for.

He was in the middle of trying to decide what blend the kid might enjoy when a soft-spoken voice caught him off-guard.

"...Thank you very much."

Sojiro turned over his shoulder. The kid had his face pointed down, but his gray eyes were holding onto Sojiro's without waver, as if he had to make sure Sojiro acknowledged his thanks. The spoon was gripped tightly in his hand, and a glance at his plate revealed he'd taken only a single bite. He shook his head at the kid gently. "No need to be so polite, kid," he replied, keeping a chuckle in his tone. "And don't worry about it. Feeding people is my specialty." He turned back around and resumed perusing his many different beans. "What'd make me happier than any thanks is seeing an empty plate." He eventually reached for a dark roast, deciding that this kid seemed like someone who might like their coffee bitter (Sojiro himself was much the same way).

When he turned back to the coffee grinder, he noticed Akira's friends looking like they were about to start launching into 20 Questions. In order to prevent that disaster from starting, he shot them his best 'sit down and shut up' look.

They sat down and shut up.

For a while the only sound that could be heard was the clinking of silverware on a plate as the kid ate his curry, and later the dull drone of the TV as Sojiro clicked it on for a little bit of background noise to cut through the awkwardness.

Once he was sure the kid was done with his curry, he wordlessly took the plate, exchanging it with a mug of dark coffee, black as night. The boy grabbed it with both hands, as if trying to warm them—although Sojiro knew it wasn't because he was cold. It was just a way to busy himself. He'd seen that type of behavior before, in Futaba.

"It's on the house," he made sure to say, coaxing the boy into taking a drink.

The boy met his gaze with earnest eyes. "...Thank you very much, sir."

Sojiro waved off his politeness and chuckled, moving to the sink to wash the dirty plate. "I said not to worry about the politeness. And 'sir' makes me feel so old. The name is Sakura Sojiro. But most of the kids call me 'Boss'."

A beat in the conversation that Sojiro expected (hoped) the boy would fill passed in silence. He simply nodded and tipped up his mug, beginning to sip his coffee. At the very least it seemed that he'd chosen a nice brew for him.

After it became overtly obvious the boy wasn't going to offer up his own introduction, Sojiro decided to push just a little bit. Nothing too strong, just enough to prompt him. He finished washing the dishes and flicked off his hands before drying them with a towel. Then, he turned to the kid at the bar with a patient look. "Alright, kid. Now that you've got a good meal in you, let's try this all again. What's your name, kid?"

Silence. Sojiro could just barely see his one visible eye narrow a little, gaze darting to the cup gripped in his hands. "...Don't know."

"You don't know?" Sojiro couldn't help but sound surprised. He figured it was better than the alternative—sounding accusing. Internally, he was mulling things over. Does the kid have some kind of amnesia? Or is he being withholding for some reason?

"How old are you?" Sojiro tried next. If the kid was being withholding, maybe he wouldn't feel pressured to lie about something visible like his age.

But there was no such luck. "...Don't know."

Sojiro quietly considered him. He didn't think the kid was lying about not knowing. If he was, it was extremely convincing. He let out a sigh, but not one of impatience or annoyance. "I see. Well, judging by your uniform, you're a second year. That means you’d have to be around sixteen or seventeen," he said, not unkindly, more trying to run through the facts. "I don't recognize the school emblem, though. We'll have to look into that. Alright, kid?"

The boy hesitated, then nodded silently.

In the background, Sojiro could see Akira's friends opening their mouths again. And, again, Sojiro wasn't going to let them pester this poor kid. He turned to the boy, checking his cup to see it about half-empty. "Kid, you seem like you could use a chance to get away and get your thoughts together. There's a bathhouse right across the street from here. Do you want to take some time to calm down and change out of your uniform?"

Slowly, very slowly, the boy nodded. Jeez, he was so tentative, Sojiro worried that just moving too quickly would be enough to startle him.

Sojiro nodded. "Alright. Go ahead and finish up your coffee, kid, and then you can head over there." Suddenly he turned his attention to Akira. "Would you mind getting him some clothes and a basket of stuff for the bathhouse? And show him where it is while you're at it."

Now it was Akira's turn to be quiet. He sat there, twisting a lock of hair and thinking—about what, Sojiro had no idea. Sometimes Akira was completely inscrutable. "...Sure." With that, Takamaki and Sakamoto scooted out of the booth to let him out, then slid back in. Akira tromped upstairs to go gather up his things.

Futaba whistled in appreciation, breaking the silence. "Dad-mode, activated."

Sojiro gave her a look. Honestly, that teasing was just like her mother.

"What?" she asked innocently.

Luckily, Akira chose that moment to return with some of his own clean comfortable clothes and some shampoo and soaps and towels. Sojiro grabbed the boy's cup and turned to wash it. From his place at the sink, he could hear Akira murmur to the kid about taking him to the bathhouse and to take as long as he wanted. Together they left the café, bell over the door tinkling.

The TV droned in the background as Sojiro dried off the glass and placed it back on its rack. He waited for that bell again before turning around and facing the kids, wiping his hands on his apron. He finally let his gentle demeanor fade, slipping into something no-nonsense. "Alright, kids. Tell me what happened. I wasn't going to get involved, but this seems a hell of a lot more complicated than you kids can handle alone."

Futaba fidgeted with her hands, tugging her legs up onto the booth seat. "Um. It's kind of a lot of Metaverse stuff."

Sojiro crossed his arms. "I don't care. I realize I've said to leave me out of the supernatural, but this case is more complicated than your other endeavors. And I wouldn't consider that kid," he pointed to the bathhouse, "to be a 'supernatural endeavor'."

Akira hummed thoughtfully from his place near the door. "I wouldn't be so sure of that." Only after saying those cryptic words did he re-join his friends in the booth.

"He's a kid, Akira. I don't care where you found him, a kid's a kid."

Futaba tapped her fingers together. "So if you don't care where we found him—"

"Don't be a smartass." Sojiro's brow furrowed as he glared at each of them. "Tell me everything that happened. Even if you think I won't understand."

Akira acquiesced quickly and without much resistance—proving that he could understand that Sojiro wasn't going to budge on the matter anytime soon. "We found him in the Metaverse, through a portal we'd never been through before, sitting against an ominous door several stories tall in the middle of a pitch black void."

What the hell. Sojiro took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled. Alright, cognitive bullshit, you win this round. And then he took his bewilderment, shoved it into a box, and shelved it for later. "...Okay." A breath. "Continue."

"Damn, Sojiro, I thought that would knock you out for the count for sure," Futaba remarked, impressed.

Akira continued. "So we decided to take him out of there and back here. We have no idea how he got in there, and no idea where 'there' even is. We also have no idea whether or not he's a Persona-user, and we don't have a way to find out short of just chucking him into the Metaverse like a dad throwing his kid into a lake."

Niijima raised a hand to her lips in thought. "Well, perhaps it wouldn't be that bad. Technically, we just need to take him into the Metaverse and see if his clothes change." Her maroon gaze flitted to Morgana. "Right, Mona?"

Sojiro wasn't about to question what exactly she meant by that. The only cognitive bullshit he wanted to hear about today was the necessary cognitive bullshit.

The cat meowed a response. The table nodded seriously.

"So are we going to attempt to do so?" Kitagawa asked, looking around the table.

Okumura cut him off with a strained smile and a raised hand. "I don't think that's a very good idea. He seemed very shaken up. If not for Boss's intervention, we likely would have overwhelmed him merely with our questions. And if he isn't a Persona-user, that would mean we'd have to explain the Metaverse to him. Don't you think that might be a little bit too much for him right now?"

Niijima nodded. "Haru's right. I don't think bringing him into the Metaverse should be an option, at least for now."

"Yeah. I mean, what if he just wandered into the Metaverse by accident?" Sakamoto wondered aloud. "That's probably possible, right?"

The cat meowed something, sounding annoyed—well, as annoyed as Sojiro had ever heard a cat sound. He looked to Akira.

"Morgana said: 'That's not possible, you nitwit. Remember that people are only dragged in through activation of the Nav app'."

Sakamoto looked offended. "Hey!" He looked to Akira in betrayal.

Akira raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, I was just repeating what Morgana said."

At the same time, Takamaki pulled out her phone and opened. "Oh yeah, the app! I didn't even think about that!" She looked up from her phone at the rest of them. "Couldn't we just check his phone to see if he has it?"

Okumura's eyes widened. "Oh! Good thinking, Ann-chan!"

Futaba hummed, not looking up from her computer, typing even as she spoke. "Thaaat's a no-go. He didn't have a phone on him."

Niijima looked shocked, even borderline appalled. "You searched him?!"

"Look, not for no reason," Futaba countered, annoyed. "I wanted to see if I could find anything identifying him. But there was zilch. Nada. We're talking no phone, no ID, not even a wallet. The only thing on him other than his clothes are his MP3 player and headphones. It's super weird. Honestly, I was just looking for his phone—nowadays everybody puts so much personal information into their phones—until I realized he didn't have anything on him at all. If we wanna find anything out about him, we'll have to do some digging the old fashioned way."

Niijima frowned. "Well, that rules out the 'Persona-user' theory and the 'wandering in' theory. After all, wouldn't we have noticed if he trailed us into Mementos? And why would he go in so deep if he did wander in, rather than just turn around and leave?"

"Maybe he didn't know he could," Sakamoto offered.

But Niijima shook her head. "But wouldn't that be the first thing you'd try? He doesn't exactly seem like the brave type."

"Well, let's set aside how he got in there for the time being," Akira said, and Sojiro was amazed at how unwaveringly they followed his words. "Let's go back to what Futaba said about tracking him down. It's more important that we figure out who he is in the first place rather than how he got in Mementos."

Sakamoto crossed his arms on the table and leaned over them. "Yeah, you're right. His parents are probably worried sick about 'em. Who knows how long he's been in there."

"I didn't recognize his uniform, like, at all," Takamaki murmured, leaning forward and resting her cheek on her hand. Sojiro didn't either. He'd wondered if maybe it was a newer school, or one further away that he'd never heard of. "Is it possible he's not from around here?"

"Possibly," Niijima mused. "I actually think our greatest lead isn't his uniform itself, but the armband he was wearing."

"Oh yeahhh," Takamaki said, straightening up. "I totally forgot about that! But it's so bright, it's hard not to notice, huh? What did it say again?"

"SEES," Niijima replied contemplatively.

Takamaki immediately brightened. "Oh, like the candy?"

Sakamoto sighed a world-weary sigh. Apparently this was a recurring thing. "Is all you know sweets?"

Kitagawa crossed his legs, nodding curtly. "I, for one, think it's a perfectly acceptable subject to be knowledgeable in."

Okumura—bless that girl's tender heart—politely steered the conversation back on track. "Um, while I agree that candy is a lovely thing to be passionate about, I think Mako-chan is more worried about what it means. After all, I doubt it's referring to the candy company. It is an armband."

"That is true. Is there some sort of school club that usually goes by that name? If so, it is not one I have heard of." Kitagawa added ruefully, "My apologies."

Takamaki chuckled awkwardly. "Don't worry about it, Yusuke. No one actually expected you to know."

"Ah. My mistake, then."

Sojiro shook his head. These kids.

Futaba's fingers flew across the keyboard. "I'll have to look into it online. I've never heard of it either, and I've watched every school life anime under the sun. Including the ecchi ones. My library is expansive."

Kitagawa cocked his head. "What is 'ecch—"

Akira hurriedly cut him off as Futaba snickered at Kitagawa's response. "Alright, we'll leave looking into the armband to you, Futaba."

Niijima raised her hand. "Actually, I'd like to look into it myself on the side. I also want to try to find what school that uniform is from."

Okumura clapped her hands together in delight. "Oh, Mako-chan, I was thinking the same thing! I'd feel bad leaving it only to Futaba-chan."

When Futaba replied, her words were dismissive. "I wont turn down your help. The more the merrier. But you don't need to worry about me—info gathering is my specialty. Mwehehe." She wiggled her fingers evilly. "I'll pry out the secrets of that armband one way or another."

At that moment, the tinkling of the door's bell dragged their attention away from the conversation and to the entrance. The boy stood there, hair still damp with water and a bundle of clothes in his hands. In place of his uniform, he was now wearing a cream-colored t-shirt and black sweats. He seemed more unruffled than he'd been earlier, a surprising change in demeanor that Sojiro frankly hadn't expected.

Akira blinked in realization and stood up, walking up to the kid and lifting his arms expectantly. "Oh, I can take your clothes and wash them for you, if you want."

The boy looked at him—still quite a bit warily—then nodded. Akira started to reach out to take them, but then the boy suddenly seemed to remember something and snatched something almost frantically out of the pile. Akira's hands stilled, surprised.

Upon closer inspection, Sojiro could see the red armband the kid had been wearing clutched in his fist. Wordlessly, the boy then handed Akira his clothes. Thankfully, Akira stayed silent about the behavior, although the cogs in his head were clearly turning. He gave the boy a smile, then slipped around him and out the door, being careful to give him space. Akira never failed to make him proud about his awareness.

"Is that armband important to you?" Futaba asked, voice casual but eyes sharp.

The boy nodded jerkily, clenching the armband tighter.

Futaba nodded. "Cool. Hey, mind if I take a picture of it?" Sojiro was surprised at her bravery. Maybe the fact that the kid was so quiet made her feel more confident?

The boy seemed disgruntled at that, but he still nodded and handed her the armband. She held up her phone and snapped a picture within the span of a moment, sliding the armband back to him quickly. "Thx. You can have it back now." He took it wordlessly, eyes glued to her phone. Sojiro definitely didn't miss how curious he seemed to be about it.

A minute later Akira slipped back into the store, sliding back into the booth nonchalantly. "Don't worry about the laundry. I'll take care of it." The boy nodded.

"So, what should we call you?" Takamaki asked him, twisting a pigtail as she looked at the boy in consideration. It seemed the kids were more eager to speak directly to him now that they'd talked amongst themselves. "Since we don't know your name yet."

The boy turned his attention on her, much too monotone for Sojiro's tastes. It rubbed him the wrong way to see him look so bland, when just earlier he'd been on the verge of panic. On one end, he wanted the kid to feel more comfortable. But on the other, he couldn't shake the worry that he was hiding his emotions on purpose now.

"...I don't care," he replied bluntly, much too blasé for the situation.

Takamaki immediately gaped. "What do you mean you 'don't care'? It's your name!"

He just shrugged.

Futaba raised her hand eagerly. "Well in that case, I have an idea! How about Aoi-kun, because your hair is blue!"

The boy opened his mouth—internally Sojiro hoped he wasn't about to agree to that—when Kitagawa spoke, solemn and utterly serious. "Then am I simply another 'Aoi-kun' as well? I can't accept a name so...meaningless." Sojiro resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Futaba patted Kitagawa's shoulder. "Of course not, Inari. You're Inari!"

Sakamoto raised his hand then, following Futaba's lead. "Oh, oh! Then how about 'Punk'? 'Cause he's got those headphones and that hairstyle?" Everyone stared at him blankly. He elaborated. "Because he looks like a punk rocker!"

Akira gave him a look. "How did you feel when we wanted to call you 'Thug'?"

Sakamoto immediately lowered his arm, instead rubbing the back of his neck. "That ain't what I meant..."

"Anyone else?" Niijima asked, though she seemed scared to hear anything more after that fiasco of a name.

Okumura clasped her hands together in front of her. "He reminds of hydrangeas..." she said softly.

"We are not nicknaming him hydrangea," Akira almost immediately responded. Sojiro almost felt a bit bad by how the girl's face fell.

Then Akira got a mischievous look in his eye as he hummed and leaned forward, gazing at the boy intently. "Door-kun."

"No." Every Thief spoke simultaneously. Even the cat meowed with them.

Takamaki splayed herself over the table, groaning into the tabletop. "Ugh! This is so hard!"

Every Thief fell silent as they all started thinking intently.

The kid himself broke their silence. "Aoi was fine," he said simply.

"No! I cannot accept giving you such a face-value name!" Kitagawa exclaimed, sounding entirely more upset with the choice than the actual person in question. "Just give me a little longer, and I can think of something appropriately meaningful."

"...I really don't care," the boy said again, cocking his head, as if curious by their intensity.

Sojiro decided to settle the argument here and now. "Alright, then. If the kid says Aoi is fine, Aoi is fine. At the very least, it's an actual name." He looked up at the clock. It read nine o'clock. "Shouldn't you kids be getting home? I think you'll have plenty of time tomorrow to keep talking about this."

Sakamoto jumped up. "Aw, damn! I gotta get back and help my mom with the shopping! I totally forgot!"

Luckily, Sakamoto's shout was the catalyst for the other Thieves. (Which was great, because Sojiro wanted them out of the café in order to put the kid—Aoi—more at ease). One by one, they agreed and began to pack up, preparing to file out.

"We'll text in the chat any more details," Niijima said with authority as she stood in front of the café door. A chorus of agreements met her. She turned her back and left, followed by the entourage of the rest of Akira's friends.

"I'll meet you back at the house," Futaba told him, following them out.

And then it was himself, Akira, and Aoi left in the store.

"Welp," Sojiro grunted out as he undid his apron and hung it up. "You're more than welcome to stay here, kid. Akira, if you want, you can stay at home with Futaba and I."

Not to his surprise, Akira shook his head. "I'll stay here with Morgana and Aoi."

"Alright," he replied gruffly. "Just make sure to stay safe and keep the place locked up."

Akira saluted him. "You got it, Boss." He waited until Sojiro had left before he turned to the other boy. "You can have the bed if you want."

Aoi shrugged. "I don't care."

A broad smile split across Akira's face. "Alright, the bed it is!"

Chapter Text

Akira: IMG_1342.jpg

Akira: IMG_1343.jpg

Akira: I took photos of Aoi's uniform and school emblem so everyone can save them to their phones

Futaba: IMG_3576.jpg

Akira: jesus Futaba you have a lot of photos

Futaba: I take a lot of screenshots okay >.<

Futaba: anyways that's Aoi's armband

Futaba: just putting it out there now, I think it stands for sexy ecchi erotic succubus

Akira: ...Futaba.......why............

Futaba: because

Yusuke: I still do not understand. What is 'ecchi'?

Akira: you just wanted to poison Yusuke again didn't you

Futaba: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Akira: Futaba PLEASE he's gonna grow up to be a monster at this rate

Yusuke: ? Are we not the same age?

Akira: I don't approve of how you're raising our child

Ryuji: sometimes this chat is way too weird for me

Makoto: Alright, people, let's get back on track please.

Futaba: suuuure, suuuure

Futaba: so yeah, what're we gonna do about (//_^)

Haru: Sorry, but what does that symbol mean? Usually I understand but I'm afraid I'm a little confused this time.

Makoto: I think it's supposed to be Aoi-kun.

Futaba: isn't it so cuuuute? Although, maybe I should

Futaba: (//_-)

Futaba: there we go

Akira: lol

Akira: it really is the spitting image

Makoto: (o￣∇￣)=◯)'ν゜)･

Futaba: uh oh

Akira: okay okay we're getting back on track

Makoto: Thank you. This is a little too important to get sidetracked fooling around.

Makoto: Akira, is Boss okay with Aoi-kun staying at the café with you? And for how long? Of course, I don't want to impose upon him, we already do that enough, but it is true that Aoi-kun has nowhere to go until we can figure out where he came from.

Ryuji: shouldn't we like go to the police or smth?

Makoto: While normally, I would agree, the circumstances of how we found him make me hesitant to jump to that.

Makoto: Not to mention how the police don't have the best track record of treating people in their care well.

Akira: <——

Makoto: Exactly.

Ann: why are u worried about how we found him?

Makoto: Well, we found him in the Metaverse, and we don't know what he was doing there. Not to mention we'd never seen that strange door before. What if it's possible his memory is linked to the Metaverse? Or that he'll end up wandering back in? I just worry that there's something big we're missing here that's supernatural in origin, and the police aren't equipped to deal with that.

Ann: that all sounds true, but what about Boss? won't he want us to take Aoi to the police too? what are we supposed to tell him?

Akira: Boss'll understand if we explain

Ann: I dunno... as much as I think Makoto's point is good, I don't know if it'll be enough to convince Boss. if Aoi's memory isn't linked to the Metaverse and it was just a coincidence, then technically we'd be holding him in Leblanc when the right choice would be to tell the police, right?

Makoto: I know. I thought about that too. I just...I can't explain it, but I feel like being too hasty here isn't the right decision.

Akira: so really you're going off of impulse again, huh, Queen?

Makoto: ...You caught me.

Akira: actually, I'm with you. I felt something very strange from that huge door, and something about the way that we found Aoi with the door makes them seemed intertwined to me

Yusuke: It was truly a stunning composition. The light haloed him perfectly, almost otherworldly, while the rest of the room was shrouded in pitch-black darkness. I hope I can recreate the beauty of the imagery with my current paints. I may need to buy another set to capture this image.

Akira: not quite what I meant, Yusuke, but I appreciate the enthusiasm. And technically you're proving my point about how strange it was

Haru: Do you think we should attempt to re-enter Mementos and look for that door again? We didn't get the chance to investigate it last time.

Makoto: I think that's a good idea. But we also shouldn't leave Aoi-kun alone while we go do that.

Ann: lightbulb moment!

Makoto: ?

Ann: do u think it would be alright if I took Aoi shopping tmrw?

Makoto: Are you sure that's a good idea?

Ann: I think it should be ok right? He needs some new clothes asap

Ann: no offense akira but ur clothes do NOT work on him like at all

Akira: none taken, and you're right

Makoto: What if he needs more time to adjust? Are we sure it's okay to throw him into the city only a day after what happened?

Ann: we're not gonna THROW him into the city alone! I'll be there with him

Makoto: ...My point still stands. I don't think it matters who goes with him. He's probably still overwhelmed.

Akira: actually he's been weirdly normal since you guys left

Akira: like, I don't actually know what his normal IS, and he's still been quiet and reserved, but not all panicky like he was earlier

Akira: I think Boss kinda saved our ass on this one

Makoto: You're probably right. If we'd been left to handle him alone, I'm afraid I might not have been able to put my questions aside and calm him down.

Makoto: The situation is just so strange that I'm still trying to make sense of it.

Haru: Me, too, Mako-chan.

Ann: soooooo?

Akira: I'm fine with it if everyone else is. Maybe it'll be good for him to get an idea of where he is, especially if he's not from around here

Ryuji: sounds good to me

Futaba: no problems here!

Haru: It may help him feel more comfortable here. I support it.

Yusuke: I raise no objections.

Makoto: ...Alright.

Ann: yessss I'm gonna make him look so good

Makoto: Don't go too overboard with him. You're a very energetic person and he seems very reserved. Ease off immediately if he seems like he's getting uncomfortable.

Ann: of course!!!

Makoto: Okay, so how does this sound for tomorrow's plan: Everyone other than Ann, meet after school tomorrow in front of the entrance to Mementos to head straight in and search for the door. Ann, you can go join Aoi-kun at Leblanc to show him around the city and go shopping.

Haru: Oh...wait. We still have school. Aoi-kun is going to be alone while we're attending classes.

Ann: maybe Morgana could stay with him?

Akira: Morgana says sure, and that he'll leave right before school gets out to meet us at the subway entrance to explore Mementos

Futaba: I can hang around the café tomorrow to keep him company too

Makoto: Alright. It sounds like a plan.

Makoto: Everyone get some sleep. We've had a long day.

Ryuji: gnight

Futaba: night!

Akira: gn guys

Haru: Sweet dreams everyone!

Yusuke: I will take my leave as well.

Ann: see you tomorrow!

Ann let her arm flop down to her bed unceremoniously. Ugh. What an exhausting day. Not to mention how freaking weird it had been.

She ran down the chain of events in her head.

It had started with a normal Mementos run. Then they'd gotten chased by the Reaper, stumbled into what they'd thought was a normal portal, and gotten spat out in a void with nothing but a huge door and an amnesiac boy. And that boy was currently occupying her thoughts the most—but not in a weird way or anything! She was mostly just worried about him. Definitely more than a little curious.

Aoi was an enigma. It was obvious from the way they'd found him. That door that he'd been sitting against kind of totally freaked her out, if she was being honest. She'd thought maybe she was alone in her bad feeling about it, but then Akira had brought up the same thing himself. When she'd first seen it, a shiver had run down her spine.

There was something so...powerful about it. It had such exquisite ornamentation that it wouldn't be out of place in some fancy government building or something, but it also had strange motifs that seemed too strange for it to have any sort of place in daily life, like what looked like giant eyes inlaid in it. It towered over everything around it, so huge it made her feel like a giant was about to emerge from it. But no, the only thing there had been was Aoi, sitting at the base of the door as if he'd collapsed there, perfectly centered and serene.

Actually, there was a worrying thought. Had Aoi come out of that door? Was Aoi human? She'd never heard of any Metaverse beings other than Shadows and cognitive versions of real people, but Akira supposedly had his 'attendants' that he visited, and they were apparently supernatural beings. She didn't know what they looked like, though. And there was also Morgana. He'd come from the Metaverse, but he was neither a Shadow nor a cognition. Could Aoi potentially be the same thing?

Frustrated, she turned over fiercely in her bed. No. She didn't want to think about that. And Aoi seemed so human, not like Morgana, who was so obviously supernatural. Aoi was probably just a normal human who'd wandered in there. Who'd just so happened to wander into a place they'd never been. Who also just so happened to have amnesia. ...Just like Morgana.

She tossed and turned again. Stop. Stop thinking along this train of thought, she told herself. Ann could spin in circles trying to make sense of the weird circumstances of Aoi's appearance, but it would only make her confused. Besides, Aoi had shown no signs of being anything other than human when he interacted with people. Though he also seemed so reluctant to interact in the first place...

She told herself to push it all out of her mind. She needed to get some sleep to be ready for tomorrow.

I'm going to make Aoi look amazing, she vowed, throwing out all her doubts. And that's all I need to think about.

——

The second school was out, Ann booked it to Leblanc, barely even taking the time to say goodbye to Akira on her way out. Not only did she not want to leave Aoi alone for too long (it felt a little mean, in her opinion), but she also would be lying if she said she wasn't excited.

She made it to the café in record time, slamming open the door with a little too much energy, visibly startling Sojiro and the two patrons sitting in a booth.

"Jeez, kid, careful on the door," Sojiro mumbled, glaring at her over the newspaper he was browsing.

Futaba, who was sitting at the bar, held a hand over her chest, looking thoroughly traumatized. "I think I just died."

Ann laughed apologetically. "Sorry, Boss, Futaba. I just wanted to get back here as quickly as I could."

Sojiro raised an eyebrow at her. "You looking for the kid?"

Before Ann could even so much as open her mouth to answer, Futaba lifted a hand and pointed upstairs. "He's been hiding in Akira's room all day. I only saw him once when Sojiro made him come eat breakfast. And I thought I was reclusive."

"Futaba," Sojiro scolded, though he didn't sound too upset. "The kid's been through some weird shit, if I'm understanding anything from your explanation yesterday. Give him a break. I'm sure he'll come around when he's ready."

"Actually, we made plans to take Aoi-kun out today!" Ann said, smiling broadly. "I offered to take him shopping to get new clothes."

Sojiro raised one unimpressed eyebrow. "Did you ask him what he wants to do?"

Ann faltered. Boss was really intimidating when he wanted to be. "Um, that's actually what I came here for..."

"Uh-huh." He sounded like he didn't believe her.

She twirled a pigtail around her finger nervously. "...Okay, so maybe I was just going to ask him to go shopping with me."

"You know a kid like that isn't going to say no to you, regardless of whether you're 'asking'," Sojiro said, one hundred percent right and she knew it.

"I-I know..." she replied, defeated. "I just thought it'd be fun. And I could show him around the city. We just don't want to leave him alone here and I thought he could use some clothes other than Akira's hand-me-downs."

Sojiro considered her. "I know you mean well, kid. Just be careful not to push him too hard. You barely met him, okay?"

Ann hugged her arms to her chest nervously. "You're not going to stop me?"

To her surprise, Sojiro smiled. "No. You're a good kid, and something tells me he is, too. Just be careful not to overwhelm him and have some fun. He's been holed up in there, so getting him out might be good for him. I think he could probably use someone his age talking to him. It might bring him out of his shell." She wasn't positive, but she swore she saw him glance at Futaba.

She beamed at him. "Thanks, Boss!"

He waved her off. "Yeah, yeah. Just bring him back here before nightfall and we'll be fine."

She nodded happily. "Will do!"

Once Boss gave her the go-ahead, she bounded up the stairs to talk to Aoi. Morgana was nowhere to be seen, but she found Aoi sitting on the couch, seemingly staring at nothing. Kind of weird, but okay. It's not like they gave him anything to do up here, and it was a dusty old attic at its core, even if Akira now called it home.

Aoi looked up from whatever he was thinking about to watch her walk into the center of the room.

"Hey, Aoi-kun!" she started to say, but she stopped in her tracks, tilting her head. "Or...would Aoi be better? Which would you prefer?" She'd noticed Akira dropping the honorifics completely with him, and had wondered if she should follow suit.

Aoi stared at her. "...I don't care."

Ann couldn't help but mutter under her breath in exasperation. "Oooof course you don't. Right." Looks like she really shouldn't have expected anything less from the king of not caring. She huffed and shifted her weight onto one leg, crossing her arms in front of her. "You've got to have some sort of opinion."

For a second, a glimmer of hope sparkled in her heart as he seemed to take the time to think. Yes...? Yes...?

And then he shrugged. "I don't," he remarked again. Ann slumped in defeat. Aoi was such a tough nut to crack! But it was literally impossible that he didn't care about anything. In fact...

"Alright, then, Aoi!" she said, nodding concisely. "That'll be our mission today! We're gonna go shopping for you until you find something you like!" The goal: prove that he had an opinion about something. Everyone has some kind of fashion preference. And with the way that Akira's clothes were hanging off of his frame...well, she hoped that his own preferences leaned elsewhere. "You need some new clothes anyway!"

Aoi hummed and shrugged, standing up, hands already in his pockets. "Okay."

Ann hurried him down the stairs, already thinking about what might look good on him. "Oh, and I'll pay, so don't worry about that."

"Okay." A pause. "Thanks."

She beamed at him. "Don't mention it! Now let's find something that makes you look amazing!"

——

"Okay, so, first thing's first: what colors do you tend to gravitate toward?" Ann looked Aoi up and down. He was wearing Akira's clothes, but they were comfortable clothes that he clearly wouldn't usually go out in. Especially the sweats. Overall, the color choice itself wasn't bad, it was just...bland. Black and white managed to look good on pretty much anyone, and yet those clothes were still a no-go on Aoi.

Ann cupped her chin as she narrowed her eyes in thought. Yeah, black and white would definitely look good on him, but the cut and size were somehow all wrong. He needed something more defined. The t-shirt looked like it was just hanging off his shoulders, probably because his posture was hunched over, making his shoulders rounded. He needed either something form-fitting or something more structured and stiff. Regardless, the first step would be finding something in the right size for a change. Just from looking, she could tell right off the bat that he was smaller than Akira, with a slighter figure.

She looked up to address him directly. "Do you usually prefer more mute, neutral colors, or do you tend to go for something more vibrant?"

He gave an exaggerated shrug. "I don't—"

Ann couldn't help it. She cut him off in his tracks. "Jeez! If I hear one more 'I don't care' out of you I'm gonna lose my mind! Just pick one way or the other, okay? Even if it's a lie."

He shifted his hands in his pockets. "...But I really don't—"

Ann crossed her arms firmly. "Even if it's a lie," she repeated, unwavering.

He seemed to struggle over that for a while before visibly caving. "Neutral colors." She fully expected him to leave it there, but to her full shock and awe he actually continued. "Or cool."

Ann had to hold in a squeal of triumph. Those were the most words she'd heard him say yet! And she'd been the one able to coax them out of him!

She took a deep breath and revealed none of her internal joy. "Okay, so neutral or cool tones. That's a start." Now that she'd pried some bare-bones knowledge out of him, she resumed leading him down the street. "Have you considered neutral tones with a red accessory? That armband really popped against your black uniform. Especially with your hair." In fact, she imagined Joker's costume in her mind's eye, with the crimson red gloves that popped so aesthetically against the black.

He followed her, although a bit uncertainly. This was the most emotion she'd seen from him besides apathy and panic. It was refreshing, even a bit exciting. "I don't know. I don't usually wear accessories."

Ann was careful to hum in consideration, taking the time to seem like she was really listening to his words. Maybe if he felt like what he said mattered, he'd feel more encouraged to speak up! Or so she hypothesized.

Suddenly she had a brilliant idea. "Okay, well, what about your headphones?" She had noticed that he was still wearing them along with his MP3, even despite changing his clothes. Futaba had also mentioned in passing that the player was actually dead, so there was no practical use to them. Ann could only assume he liked them.

"My headphones...?" He looked down at them with the most apathetic confusion she'd ever seen. It was admirable, really. Maybe even slightly adorable.

"Yeah! You seem to like wearing them all the time, so why not get a nice new pair of eye-catching red ones? That pair seems really old and could probably use a replacement anyways."

Frowning, he messed with his headphones with his hand. "Old..."

Ann laughed apologetically. "Yeah. I mean, they're kind of out of style for nowadays, don't you think?"

Where she had expected agreement, she received a deeper frown. "...I don't know," he replied. Jeez, cryptic answer much?

"That's okay," she said, tone inviting. "We can take a look at some new models. Futaba would probably love to take you!"

"Futaba..." he echoed. Ann nodded encouragingly when he looked like he had something else to say. Finally, he dropped his thinking expression. And then, monotonously: "Who is that?"

"Oh..." Ann's entire world shattered as she realized how rude they'd all been. How many assumptions she'd made. Aoi had gone along with everything with nary a word and scarcely a complaint, and it made it easy to forget that he was boy they'd just met in a strange circumstance who had no idea who they were. She felt terrible for being so discourteous. He'd been so agreeable that she'd just started to drag him along. "That's..."

She forced a smile, but it was gentler than her earlier ones, more apologetic. "That's the orange-haired girl. The one with the glasses. She took a picture of your armband yesterday." She waited until Aoi had nodded before continuing. "I'm Ann. Takamaki Ann. You..." It was hard to keep going so peppily when she was so vividly aware of their mistake. "You know that much, right?"

To her extreme relief, he nodded. She would have felt awful if he'd gone along with her without even knowing her name. "The blue-haired boy is Kitagawa Yusuke—he's an art freak. The short-haired brunette is Niijima Makoto, and the fluffy-haired girl is Okumura Haru. The bleach-blonde loud-mouth is Sakamoto Ryuji. Kurusu Akira's the one you're staying with, and his cat's name is Morgana."

Aoi was quiet as he catalogued the names. Then, he nodded. "I'll remember." He opened his mouth again, and Ann set aside her guilt to feel happy that at least he was taking initiative in the conversation now. Little did she know how unprepared she was for what he was about to say. "Oh, by the way. I've noticed that the cat talks. Why?"

To be honest, he'd caught her so off-guard that for a moment, all she could think to do was stop walking and stare. "Y-You..." She cleared her throat weakly. "You can hear Morgana talk?"

He nodded as if it was no big deal.

"S-Since when?" She was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Since the moment I came downstairs yesterday. It also woke Kurusu-kun up this morning."

Ann couldn't help it. She gave him an incredulous look. "If you noticed it yesterday, why didn't you say anything until now?"

The dreaded shrug returned full-force. "I was tired. It seemed like it could wait."

His words stunned her speechless. Most people heard Morgana and freaked out on the spot. But Aoi had apparently heard him pretty much from the get-go and had decided it wasn't important.

How did this boy exist?

Part of her really wanted to rant into the group chat about how Aoi could hear Morgana and hadn't questioned a thing until now. But she made the executive decision that that could wait. They were shopping right now.

It was at that point that she realized she hadn't answered his question. "Morgana is a..." She searched for a lie. "...Special cat! He's one of a kind!" She laughed nervously. "Some people can hear him, it's, like, a special thing. Guess you're one of them!" The lie was bad—so, so bad—and she herself knew it.

Yet Aoi accepted it with nothing more than a nod. "Okay."

It was at that moment that Ann realized.

Aoi was really, really weird.

——

Now that she had idea of what Aoi might like, they actually managed to head to a store without stopping to talk on the way. Ann filled the silence with idle chatter, but Aoi barely responded, usually choosing to answer with one-word sentences or hums. Sometimes he fell back on what had quickly become Ann's least favorite reaction of his—shrugs. But regardless of his lukewarm reactions, she continued to stay bubbly and energetic, hoping he'd open up if she continued to be inviting.

She stopped them in front of a boutique, almost automatically reaching out to grab his arm before she caught herself. She didn't want to be too touchy-feely with him by accident. It might breach his privacy a little too much, and he seemed like he liked his personal space.

She waited until he'd stopped walking and turned to her questioningly before speaking. "This place is amazing! They always have super high quality stuff, and it doesn't break the bank, either. I think the styles they carry would look really good on you. You have a really lithe form, you know? I think you'd look good in something form-fitting." She cocked her head. "Have you ever considered mesh?"

He gave her a look. "...No."

Ann twisted a lock of hair around her finger absently. "Well, I think you should give it a shot." Honestly, she'd been a little bit inspired by Ryuji's 'punk rocker' comment yesterday. While the name he'd chosen had been completely idiotic, she couldn't shake the feeling that it could be a really good style on Aoi. Nothing too gothic, but something that blended punk and chic.

"I'll think about it," he replied, in the same monotone that did not give her much hope that he'd think about it.

She shook her head. Well, whatever. It was his body, and he could dress however he wanted in the end. She glanced between Aoi and the store. "Come on, let's go inside!" She led him in, and he followed without complaint.

An attendant greeted them the moment they entered. "Welcome in! Please tell me if you have any questions about anything."

Ann nodded distractedly. "Will do, thanks!" She was already raking her eyes over the racks, trying to hone in on something that would accentuate Aoi's fine features. Barely restraining herself from dragging Aoi along, she darted over to the nearest rack to scour it. Aoi followed along aimlessly.

A red coat caught her eye, and she tugged it out of the rack to hold it up in front of Aoi. No, too gaudy for him.

"It's still a bit cold out, so we should be sure to pick some warm clothes," she told him as she returned the coat to the rack. When she saw him hovering behind her aimlessly, she frowned at him, waving him away. "Come on, you look too! I don't want to be the only one shopping; it's for you in the first place!"

An unsure look flitted over his eyes, but it was gone in a flash. "Okay." He turned to the rack behind him and started half-heartedly sifting through it. She held back a sigh. That was probably the best she could hope for.

For a while, there was no sound other than of them sliding hangers along the rack, and her own periodic mutterings to herself.

No, too bright. Too boring. Too drab.

Her hand stilled.

"Oh. My. God." She ripped the hanger off of the rack with unbridled excitement. "Aoi, you have to try this on. This is exactly the thing I think would work so well on you!"

He looked over at her questioningly. Sometime during her distraction, he'd wandered over to the coat rack, and he was admiring a light gray peacoat.

She hurried over to him and showed him what she'd found. "Isn't it perfect? Even if you don't end up liking it in the end, you have to try it on. And you should totally try on that coat, too, if you like it."

Ann handed him the clothes she'd gathered up. "Try on the pants with that shirt! I really, really want to see how it looks on you."

He seemed a little frazzled by her shoving all this stuff at him while he was already looking at something, so he released his hold on the peacoat he'd been holding out and grabbed her things instead. She snatched the peacoat off of the rack and plopped it onto the pile in his arms. "No, no, take that one, too!"

He looked at her over the mound of clothes, confusion evident. She waved her hands in the direction of the changing room. "Go, go, try it on! I'll wait for you out here."

As usual, he acquiesced without complaint, disappearing into the changing rooms. Meanwhile, Ann was practically buzzing with excitement. Even if they didn't find much else Aoi liked on this shopping trip, this outfit alone would be soooo worth it.

She browsed a few more racks while she waited, pulling out a white button-up t-shirt with little black music notes printed over it like tiny polka dots. She pulled it off the rack to give to Aoi.

Finally, he emerged from the dressing room, wearing the shirt and pants she'd picked out for him.

And he looked...

"So good!" Ann exclaimed, practically fawning over his style. "I was totally right about form-fitting clothes!"

Aoi looked himself over dubiously. The clothes she'd chosen for him were a plain black sleeveless turtleneck and a pair of black skinny jeans, a single chain hanging off of the waist. Together, they really showed off how slight and lithe his figure was. It made him look really elegant, in her opinion. Not the stuffy kind of elegant, but the kind of elegant where someone might see him and be a bit envious. In a nice juxtaposition, the gothic edge gave him some bite.

"Well?" she prompted, because while she loved it, that didn't mean anything compared to Aoi's own opinion. "Do you like it?"

He pondered it over, turning this way and that to look himself over. He tugged at the high neckline of his turtleneck hesitantly. "...I've never worn clothes like this before."

"Are they bad? You don't have to wear them if you don't like how they look." Secretly, Ann would be very disappointed, but that was her own problem.

"No..." He turned to her, and his expression looked like maybe he was seeking validation. "I just can't tell if they look good on me."

Oh, well if it was compliments he was seeking, she would definitely give them. "Oh, don't worry about that. You look great! If it was my choice for you, I'd get them in a heartbeat!"

He gave himself another once-over. "...So they look good?"

"Totally," she said solemnly. "It really highlights your figure."

Aoi looked away. Looking a little closer, she could see he was embarrassed. Oh my god, he was so cute right now! "...I like them."

Ann squealed. "Yes! Mission accomplished!" She noticed him still holding the peacoat uncertainly. She gestured to it invitingly. "Try on the peacoat with it!"

He paused, then shrugged on the coat. His hands hovered in front of the buttons, as if unsure whether to button it up or not.

"It'd look good either way," she suggested. It was true. The peacoat was a cool gray, so it helped to add some variety to his all-black ensemble. Open it showed off his slim figure, but closed gave him a more refined look since it was long enough to cover the chain on his belt loops.

He tried it both ways and looked in the mirror.

"Do you like the coat, too?"

This time, he nodded without hesitation.

She beamed. "Perfect! Then we'll got both of those!" She shooed him back into the changing room to change back, handing him the t-shirt she'd grabbed earlier. That went a lot more uneventfully. It looked good on him, and he liked it, so it was easy to decide to get it as more casual clothing.

She waited for him to leave the dressing room again, launching into her next idea the moment he was out. "Hey, do you like scarves?"

He frowned. "I've never really worn them."

"Remember what I said about red accents? I think if you wore a red scarf with that coat, it'd look really good!" Ann stopped in her tracks with a sheepish laugh. "Oh, but it probably wouldn't work with your headphones, huh. Well, the scarf's not important. What's important is that we found you some clothes!"

He looked down at his bounty. "...Yeah."

"Well, we've pretty much looked at everything, so we should go pay! There's still a lot left to hit." She was already making her way to the register before the words were fully out of her mouth. Aoi followed quietly.

When they left the store, it was with a pep in her step. They'd found something that Aoi seemed to actually like, and looked really good in! This was so much easier than she'd expected it to be!

Ann was already turning to lead him to the next store when she realized he wasn't following. She turned to him questioningly. Aoi had a strange expression, torn between listless and upset, and she wasn't sure what to do with that, or what had prompted it. Immediately she was worried, but she tried her best to hide it.

"Um, Tak—" Her name was halfway out of his mouth before he suddenly choked, face looking like he'd just bitten into something exceptionally bitter.

She encouraged him, assuming he was worried he'd messed up her name. "Takamaki, yeah. You were right."

"Tak...Takamaki-san..." he finished, stilted and uncomfortable. Whatever he was going to say was apparently forgotten as he fidgeted uncomfortably. "...Um, could I call you Ann?"

Ann's first instinct was to beam at him. "Of course! I actually prefer people to call me Ann."

But once she was done with her immediate reaction, her second instinct kicked in. Confusion. Aoi had been so polite so far, she'd never assume him to be the type to ask to call her by her first name. Yet, he just had. After tripping over her name so strangely, too. Was it difficult for him to say? It wasn't a particularly hard name to pronounce. Weird.

...Well, if it got him to be more familiar, she really couldn't complain!

"Ann..." Aoi began again, still uncomfortable but no longer looking so stricken. "...Why are you doing this?"

Ann frowned. "What do you mean?"

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. "We don't know each other. Why would you take me out here? Why would you spend all this money on me?"

"Oh, seriously, don't worry about the money! It's totally fine, I wouldn't spend it if I couldn't afford it," she reassured quickly.

Aoi shook his head. "That's not what I'm saying. Why did you take me out at all?"

Her frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

"We're strangers." He was back to speaking shortly, something that she noted with dim frustration.

Oh, she thought she understood what he was saying. "You mean, why am I doing all this when we've just met?" He nodded. She put a finger to her lip. "Well... I guess it's because I wanted to help you. You're in a bit of a tough spot right now, and if I can do anything to help you out, I want to. I'm not smart enough to figure out the more difficult things regarding your situation, so instead I'll help the way I know I can. Even if it's just something as small as keeping you company and going shopping. Does that answer your question?"

Aoi's visible gray eye was widened in awe. He seemed...touched? Possibly? It was tough to read his expressions.

He dropped his head, as if to further hide his expression. "I...see..."

"...Does it make you upset?" Ann asked carefully, genuinely wanting to hear his answer. "Because we can go back if you want. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Aoi shook his head. "No, it's..." When he raised his head, Ann was shocked by his expression.

He was smiling. Even if it was just a small one, barely there, it was still a smile, and it warmed her heart. It turned his usually so apathetic face into something very soft, almost angelic.

"...It's very nice," he finished, still with that contented look on his face. Now that she'd seen it, it was so obvious how carefully he'd been hiding his emotions throughout the past day and a half. But she'd seen so many more emotions on his face within just the last half hour or so.

She hoped he would show them more of those soft smiles.

So Ann smiled in return, one just as genuine as his. It wasn't hard, with how happy seeing his smile had made her. "Then let's keep going. We still have plenty of time left in the day."

Aoi nodded, and for once, it felt like he wasn't merely agreeing to be agreeable. He was agreeing because he wanted to.

——

They hit a few more stores, and Ann picked up a plain navy blue button-up t-shirt for him to have another shirt in his arsenal, along with another pair of pants, this one a pair of light wash skinny jeans (she couldn't help it, they just looked really good on him).

They also found this really nice black windbreaker with white kanji on the sleeves that said 'honor' and 'sacrifice'. A detailed bunch of pastel-blue flowers in bloom with a coiled snake around them was embroidered on the back.

As the sun started to set behind the Tokyo skyline, Ann dragged Aoi to their final stop: her favorite crepe stand. She was starving, and there was no way Aoi wasn't hungry, too.

When they got there, she actually managed to weasel a real opinion out of Aoi on what he wanted to order. In the end, it was a strawberry and whipped cream crepe (a choice that Ann was tempted to make herself—but she settled for a banana and Nutella one instead).

As they leaned over a railing to eat their crepes, Ann couldn't help but muse over the day.

It was funny, she barely knew Aoi, yet she felt so contented now. They'd spent several hours together, and though he'd been reserved throughout most of that time, it had gradually begun to feel a little different. It reminded her of how she usually felt when she'd just hung out with Akira—contented, settled, happy.

To her, Akira was the most low-stress person to hang out with—he never demanded her to do anything, but he also wasn't afraid to speak out if he thought she was wrong about something. That same sort of bluntness seemed to exist in Aoi, too, just buried a little deeper. Akira was such a magnetic personality, you couldn't help but gravitate toward him, but Aoi was nice in a different way. He was so quiet, it was easy to assume he wasn't listening, but he always proved her wrong by answering promptly whenever she asked him anything.

Akira was more biting with his jokes, and he had a quick wit and a sassy sense of humor, something that made him into a social force to be reckoned with. Aoi, in contrast, was a gentler presence, and there was something so reliable and unshakable about him. Although his monotone expression tended to be unreadable at first glance, he was a lot more expressive once you'd been talking to him for a while, almost like you needed to work him out of his shell first.

Aoi was less confident; Akira was so confident he would say the most idiotic things with a goofy grin on his face. Aoi had gentle smiles, while Akira was the perfect essence of a gentleman thief with his devil-may-care smirk.

Yet both managed to put her at such ease, like she'd always belonged by their sides. She'd never thought anyone besides Akira would make her feel this content.

Ann decided. She wanted to learn more about Aoi.

"Hey," she said, just to get his attention. "You asked me earlier why I was going shopping with you, but you know, the same thing could be said of yourself." She gestured with her crepe, careful not to let a drooping glob of Nutella fall to the sidewalk. "Technically, I'm just a stranger to you, too. But you went shopping with me today. Why?"

He finished his bite of his strawberry crepe. "...It would have been rude to say no."

She gave him a wry smile, not bothering to hide her fond exasperation. "Well, I appreciate the honesty."

They stood in silence for a moment. Aoi took another bite of his crepe.

"...Did you at least have fun, though, in the end? Even if you originally only came along to appease me?"

He turned his head to answer, and Ann was no Yusuke, but she wanted to frame the moment. He was perfectly relaxed where he was leaning against the railing, twisted slightly to glance at her next to him. The setting sun painted his face in warm orange tones, and his crepe had the perfect appearance of belonging in a food magazine. Even with his ill-fitting loaner clothes, he still managed to look very elegant and serene. That small smile was back on his lips, and it softened the edges to his visible eye.

"Yeah. I had fun."

Ann smiled back.

So what if Aoi had amnesia? So what if maybe he wasn't human and was something more like Morgana? So what if there were so many maybes regarding him?

In that moment, all of those questions—all of that uncertainty—it didn't matter.

She was able to make Aoi happy, and that was enough.

——

The moment she and the rest of the Phantom Thieves reconvened, Ann relayed everything that had happened to them. She went over their shopping trip and how she'd managed to start breaking Aoi out of his shell with barely restrained excitement. The Thieves listened to her, almost amused.

"Well, I'm glad you both had fun," Makoto said with a smile.

Ann was in the middle of telling them about the talk she and Aoi had had when eating their crepes when she remembered something so much more important. "Oh, and Aoi can apparently hear Morgana."

The table erupted into confused chaos.

"What the hell?"

"He can?"

"Why didn't he say anything?"

"Does that mean he's a Persona-user after all?"

"No, it just means he's been in the Metaverse."

Oh, if they thought she was going to stop there, they were dead wrong. She waited for a moment in between the shouts to continue. "And you know how he brought it up to me?" Everyone turned to watch her with held breath. She put on her best Aoi impression, keeping her voice low and even and unimpressed. "'Oh, by the way. I've noticed that the cat talks.' That's seriously what he said about it!" She threw her hands out. "Who does that?"

Unexpectedly, Futaba bent over the table as she snorted. Everyone turned to look at her. "I-I'm sorry, that's just too funny! And I can totally hear it!" She cackled riotously. "Just, 'oh, by the way'. That's hilarious!"

The rest of them found themselves breaking into their own smiles.

Akira hummed, a smile still ghosting over his lips. "I guess it makes sense he'd be able to hear Morgana. We did find him in the Metaverse to start with, after all."

Ann's brows lowered as her energy level dropped into something serious. "Speaking of the Metaverse, what happened with that today?"

Simultaneously, everyone slumped in their seats. Akira sighed and shook his head, shoulders falling in defeat. "We didn't find a thing. We finished up those Mementos requests while we were in there, hoping that one of the portals would lead to that door, but nope. Futaba never got any weird readings like she was getting before, either."

Ann crossed her arms in disappointment. "Figures."

Morgana finally piped up from where he'd been largely quiet. "What do you think you guys want to do? Do you want to keep searching for the door?"

Her frown deepened. "What do you mean by that, Mona? You're making it sound like it's only our choice."

Akira gave Morgana an indecipherable look. "Morgana already has his mind made up. Don't you?" He addressed the second half to the cat—err, not a cat—himself.

Morgana looked at his paws. Somehow he managed to make an expressionless feline face look tired. "...Yeah. I want to keep trying. That weird feeling I got off that door is bugging me."

Akira nodded. "I thought as much. Don't worry, I think everyone agrees that one failure isn't enough to call it quits."

Then Akira brought all their attention to him, straightening up in his seat. "Alright. Everyone, let's get some rest and reconvene tomorrow. We can decide tomorrow morning who takes the day to spend with Aoi."

To everyone's surprise, Futaba's hand shot up. "Oh, oh, pick me!"

Akira raised an eyebrow. "You?"

"Me."

Yusuke tilted his head. "May I ask why?"

She pushed up her glasses. "Aoi needs a phone and new headphones, right? I'm sure he'd be happy to have them sooner rather than later."

Slowly, Akira nodded. "Okay...that's true. But you're our navigator. When we go into Mementos tomorrow we'll want you with us."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "You guys can handle one day without me. You'll have Mona!"

If Akira was going to complain, he held his tongue. He was probably remembering Morgana's lasting inferiority complex regarding Futaba. "...Alright. Think you're up for the task, Mona?"

Morgana seemed to finally perk up, preening. "Of course I am. I'll lead you better than Futaba ever could!"

Futaba chuckled. "Careful, kitty. You don't want to make an enemy of me," she said, faux-ominously.

He huffed. "It's true. I'll put in my all tomorrow!"

Akira smiled and ruffled his fur. Morgana meowed indignantly but didn't pull away. "Then we'll be counting on you."

Chapter Text

Futaba started off the day with her usual routine. Sleep in until around ten, get up and migrate into Leblanc to beg Sojiro for some coffee and curry, and then set up her laptop at the counter in preparation for some major internet trawling as she waited for her breakfast.

She wasted no time today in opening her laptop and resuming her open tabs. She'd been looking into Aoi's school uniform sort of on the side of trying to keep him company and also navigating the team through the Metaverse, and today she was going to try to continue her search into which school exactly they were dealing with. She'd started with the schools in the general Tokyo area, but that had yielded next to nothing, so she broadened her search from the big cities into the more residential areas as well. But she was a little bit unprepared for how many schools there were.

Luckily, internet info-gathering was her specialty. Even if it took her a long time, she'd root through every freaking school uniform to find a match with Aoi's, even if it began to take her many sleepless nights.

After a few minutes had passed with her engrossed in her research, she tore her attention away from it to whine. "Sojiroooo. Curryyyyy."

To her surprise, he didn't set a plate of curry next to her laptop, instead standing in front of her until his latent dad energy forced her to look up at him. He didn't seem angry or anything, which was what her mind always jumped to when someone acted unusually. (It was a bad habit that she was still trying to fight).

"You can have your curry after you drag that kid down to eat some, too." He jerked his thumb upstairs.

"You're such a grandpa," she teased. "Calling him 'that kid'. What are you, sixty?"

He rolled his eyes, but he had on a good-natured smile. "You won't get any curry at all if you keep back-talking this 'grandpa'."

It was obviously an empty threat, but Futaba still got up from her seat to tiptoe upstairs. It was a Friday, so Akira was obviously still at school. Morgana had come with Akira to school this time, not wanting to be left out of the day twice in a row, apparently. It felt pretty good that Futaba was being trusted with Aoi completely by herself for the day, even if it was a teensy bit scary. It was kind of like a miniboss—one with a DPS check. She'd be fine if she did enough damage; in this case, it was more like 'friendship points'.

She wanted to prove she'd grown up a little throughout the year. That was partially why she'd volunteered to hang out with Aoi. Sure, she could have waited until no one else wanted to do it, and they wouldn't have forced her if she didn't want to, but she felt like going that route would be like saying she didn't learn anything at all.

Plus, she felt kind of bad, watching Aoi walk around with his dead MP3 player and headphones set that looked like it came straight out of like, 2008 or something. (Seriously, who used that kind of stuff anymore? She could understand the retro aesthetic, but when it came to music, it was really hard for her to use something so inconvenient. She'd been spoiled by Spotify and on-demand listening. And what could that MP3 even hold, like, three songs? Storage space must be a nightmare on something so old.)

Anyways, she wanted to help out poor Aoi. She assumed he wore those headphones every day because it was, like, a familiarity thing. Maybe even a comfort thing. She could definitely relate to that. Personally, she liked to take her laptop with her, or even Akira. Basically, she had her things she relied on as well, and she knew how lost she could feel without them. She didn't want Aoi to feel that way, either.

Futaba knew some people used music to cope. She herself had never gravitated toward music, preferring to throw herself into anime and manga to hide from her depression and anxiety. She'd binged huge amounts of anime every day in what she told herself was some sort of personal quest to consume every episode she could get her hands on, but was really just a means of distraction. Nowadays she had healthier means, and people to support her.

Maybe music was Aoi's way of coping. Maybe he was used to feeling alone, too.

She shook off that train of thought. She shouldn't make assumptions. If she turned out to be wrong, it'd be a big mistake to make.

Tentatively, Futaba padded up the stairs into Akira's room, now housing only Aoi. The boy himself was sitting on the couch, head leaned back, eyes closed. Another moment passed before she noticed that he was wearing his headphones, though she was one hundred percent certain they were dead. Maybe she was right, and it made him feel calm.

It made her hesitant to step further into Akira's room. She felt like she'd be intruding on Aoi's space. But Sojiro had asked her to call him down for breakfast, and Aoi needed to make sure he ate more meals. Don't think she didn't know how difficult it was for Sojiro to drag him down for meals.

"Um," she started off, already feeling disappointed at herself for falling into anxious stuttering when she'd told herself she was going to be brave. Aoi opened his eyes and glanced at her without moving his head. The pressure to speak threatened to be overwhelming. "S-Sojiro says it's time for breakfast. A-A-And you'd better come down 'cause he won't feed me until you come eat, too!" She framed her words strongly, but her stammering betrayed her.

"A-Anyways, bye, see you downstairs! Don't be late because I'm starving!" She bustled downstairs quickly, escaping the situation. Once she'd reached her place at the bar again, she took a deep breath. Out of the corner of her eye, Sojiro was giving her a questioning look.

Ugh. That was terrible. So much for being brave and outgoing. She was honestly so jealous of Ann. She'd relayed her day with Aoi to them and sounded so happy. Futaba wished she could be that energetic and extroverted.

"Did you tell Aoi to come eat?" Sojiro asked her.

She huffed. "Yeah... I just got too nervous and ran down here before he could even get up. He's probably coming."

True to her word, footsteps became audible moments later as Aoi padded softly down the stairs. She noticed he was still wearing his loaned sleep clothes as he slipped up to the counter and tentatively sat down, a seat between himself and Futaba.

"Don't be such a stranger, kid," Sojiro addressed him, sliding a plate of curry in front of him. He followed up by setting a plate in front of her as well. Futaba didn't hesitate to dig in to her favorite food, and Aoi followed her lead with only a little hesitation.

They were content to eat their meals in silence, Sojiro passing each of a them a coffee before going back to watching the morning news. Futaba turned her attention back to her laptop, poring through the dozens of open tabs she had on research of SEES and Aoi's uniform. She'd focused more on his uniform once she'd realized that the SEES armband was a massive dead end. There was no information about it online whatsoever, something that gave her strange vibes. Everything left traces online, but that armband was suspiciously absent from any records. Had it been scrubbed clean...?

...Anyways, the lack of info on the armband had caused her to focus solely on his uniform. Even if it was horrifically slow going, she would eventually find the school that matched up with Aoi's uniform, so it was the better bet for now. She'd barely managed to scratch the surface so far, but she'd also not been focusing on it as hard as she could have been. In the coming days, she'd vowed to put more time and effort into scrutinizing schools.

But even though she'd decided to focus on Aoi's uniform, she felt a niggling feeling that nagged her not to leave the SEES armband untouched. Even though there were no online footprints, perhaps people themselves would recognize it. It was a possibility...

The next fifteen minutes while she finished her curry were home to a massive internal debate over whether or not to post the picture of the SEES armband. On one hand, she'd searched and so far found not even a foothold to start from. On the other, she was worried about asking the general public about something when she didn't have a clue what it could mean. After getting tangled up in government conspiracies through their Phantom Thief business, she was much warier of whose attention she could be attracting, and when. The mysterious nature of the armband's lack of online presence also didn't give her any encouragement.

After much deliberation, she posted it anonymously on a couple of forums, being extra careful to hide her IP and any personal information that could be used to trace her. For Aoi's sake, she felt like she needed to exhaust her options. She'd feel terrible if she was the reason they weren't able to figure out his identity. And it was a school armband; what could she possibly be attracting by posting it online?

Famous last words, she muttered to herself.

She forcibly turned her own attention to Aoi to drag her mind off of that dark track. "So, Aoi..."

He finished a sip of his coffee, turning away from his empty curry plate to face her. When it was clear he wasn't going to say anything, she continued, a little uncertainly. "You really don't remember anything that might help us discover your identity?" A shake of his head. "Um... Well...what about family? Maybe I could track down your family if you remember anything about them."

"I don't remember," he responded quietly. "My parents...I don't remember much about them. I...have the feeling...that that isn't entirely because of the amnesia."

Futaba frowned into her coffee. What did Aoi mean by that?

She mustered up the bravery to ask. "How do you know?"

Aoi didn't have any grand reactions, as usual. Not even a sigh nor a tilt of the head. "A feeling. My memories are in pieces. And lots of them are fuzzy. I'm missing a lot of memories from recently."

Futaba frowned. "Like what?"

"Like what school I went to. How old I am."

"...I...see..." Futaba forced out. It was difficult to keep engaging with him. She had a feeling they were treading dangerous territory, though she didn't know why. Perhaps some lasting impression from what he'd said about his parents.

Of course, Aoi chose that moment to finally speak without being prompted. "The past is a bit clearer. I feel like my parents weren't there for a lot of it." He paused for a while. "I'm pretty sure they might be dead. I can't remember how they died, though."

Futaba practically choked on her coffee. Of course, of course she was the one who uncovered this verbal minefield, and not someone like Ann or Akira who would actually be able to handle it. It was hard enough for her to socialize normally.

"Oh...I see," she said, probably sounding like the world's biggest idiot. She'd panicked a bit. "I guess that rules out that."

For some reason, she decided to continue. "Not having parents isn't so bad, at least. My mom's dead, too, and my dad's out of the picture. Sure it sucked at first, but I've got Sojiro now, so that's good!" Every word that tore out of her chest made her cringe harder. She prayed to all the gods above that divine intervention would clamp her idiot mouth closed. Shut up, me! This is not how people normally relate to people! You're gonna scare him away with your social awkwardness!

But she should have known Aoi was unflappable. "Oh, I see. That's good."

She could assume he meant about Sojiro, not about her parents being gone. It was still such a strange thing to say in their already strange conversation. She wondered if he was pitying her and purposefully going along with her terrible conversational skills. Either that, or he was just as socially awkward.

She fought the urge to combust on the spot and powered through the embarrassment. "So, Ann suggested that we go out and get you some new headphones and stuff?" It was a clumsy and obvious diversion, but she never claimed to be socially adept.

Aoi nodded, accepting her segue. He messed with his headphones aimlessly. "She said...that they were old."

Futaba snorted. "Yeah, well, she was right. Those headphones are ancient. Probably older than me. Maybe even older than Sojiro!" Sojiro snorted in amusement but didn't tear his eyes away from the TV. She continued to sink herself deeply into her tech ramblings, hoping it'd take her mind off the earlier interaction. "Point is, you're way behind the times. The retro vibes can be cool, but when it comes to music, the sound quality is way better on current-gen systems." She raised a finger pointedly, going into full-on lecture mode. "Unless you like the aesthetic, I'd recommend upgrading," she said matter-of-factly.

He considered her words, then nodded. "Okay."

Futaba grinned mischievously. "Perfect. I'm gonna hook you up with the best pair of headphones on the market! Oh, and a phone! Akira gave me an allowance for today so we don't have to worry about price range. He's loaded."

He nodded again.

And then a few long, long seconds passed in silence.

"Um..." She wasn't used to hanging out with someone so passive. Usually she hung out with aggressive people so that she wouldn't have to take that role herself. Oof, it looked like she would have to face a miniboss here and now and take charge. "We could go...soon? Like, in fifteen minutes? So you could change and we could go to Akihabara?"

Despite the uncertainty in her words, he nodded agreeably.

"Okay, great! I'll just wait down here!" All her sentences were a little too forceful, but at least she'd managed to get her point across.

As Aoi went back upstairs to change, Sojiro looked at her, an impressed edge to his expression. "I'm proud of you, Futaba. I know how difficult that was for you."

Futaba's cheeks warmed a little from the praise. She feigned nonchalance to cover it up. "It's no biggie. I have to keep training up on the small fry to fight the big boss myself one day."

Sojiro chuckled. "Well, I'm sure you'll get there."

——

When Aoi returned from changing in Akira's room, Futaba nearly sprayed the last dregs of her coffee all over the bar. He was wearing a black sleeveless turtleneck—a gray peacoat folded neatly over one arm—and black skinny jeans. What. The. Hell.

After she wiped her mouth of coffee dribble, she couldn't help but point and scream. "Ann didn't tell us she made you hot!!! What the hell is this!?!?!"

"Futaba," Sojiro said in a warning tone, but it was hardly serious, and he was still smiling.

"Oh, 'hell' isn't a bad word, Sojiro, we live in the twenty-first century," she replied distractedly, not taking her eyes off Aoi. "Anyways, back to the real topic! Aoi, Ann took your cute look and turned you into a bad boy! Is this your true colors?!"

He tilted his head, ruining whatever sexy image he'd started to build. "...True colors?"

Futaba lowered her voice to a conspiring whisper. "Are you a sexy goth at heart?"

Aoi shrugged. Futaba nearly died at the way his shoulders looked in those clothes. She made a mental note to message Ann later about the monster she's wrought. "I like how it looks. Ann agreed."

"'Ann'?" Futaba spluttered incredulously. What the hell? What did Ann do yesterday?

Apparently, pointing that out was the wrong thing to say. Aoi immediately retreated further, visibly closing himself off. "...She gave me permission," he said tonelessly.

Internally, Futaba kicked herself for her misstep. "Oh...um...that's fine and all...I didn't mean to accuse you of anything..." One wrong move and she'd lost all the natural conversational buildup.

She spoke quickly before more awkwardness could set in. "Well, whatever! Now at least you don't look like you're homeless! Anyways, we should get going to Akihabara!" She turned quickly, borderline fleeing the store. "Bye, Sojiro! See ya later!" The bell tinkled happily as she left, praying that Aoi followed. A second chime informed her that he had indeed come with.

Now that she was outside the oppressive atmosphere of the café, she took a deep breath. "...S-Sorry. I know I suck at this." She didn't look at Aoi, instead preferring to toe at the ground. It was cowardly, but she was too afraid to face him. So much for bravery.

"What do you mean?"

She blinked at the ground in surprise, lifting her head. He was staring at her questioningly, but not demandingly. He'd shrugged on his coat at some point when she wasn't paying attention, probably because of the chilly nip in the air. His eye was gentle, inquisitive, but utterly accepting. Whatever she said, he'd probably just accept it, even if she deflected away from herself. He wouldn't say a thing. He wouldn't judge her. She hadn't known him for long at all, yet his eyes conveyed that feeling to her perfectly. It was a little bit like how she felt around Akira—that sense of immediate familiarity and comfort. And suddenly, she wasn't so afraid to tell him the truth.

"I-I was a hikikomori for a while. After my mom died, actually. So I'm...not very good at talking to people. I told myself I'd be brave and face my fears today, but I've barely been with you and I've already messed it all up." She tried and failed not to sound too upset.

Aoi slumped his shoulders into his pockets. His gray eye was somehow so very sharp and attentive as he glanced at her. In a way, it seemed unlike him, and yet fitting at the same time. Like she was seeing a different, unexpected side of him.

"Really? I didn't notice." He closed his eye. "Maybe it's because I'm bad at talking to people, too."

Futaba stared openly at him. "...You're lying, aren't you?" There was no way he didn't notice.

"No," he replied immediately, and it was strange, but she felt like she was getting deja vu. Of Akira. The way his demeanor was so confident in the Metaverse, as Joker, yet calmer and more pensive in reality. And how he had so many different friends, yet he never seemed to interact with all of them in quite the same way.

Right now, Aoi seemed the same. Up until now, he'd portrayed someone apathetic, perhaps a bit shy and antisocial, someone who liked to avoid conflict and not rock the boat, someone a little bit soft at times.

Now was not one of those times. Now Aoi's expression was...reliable? It held a steadfastness that she hadn't seen in him before. When she met his eye, he seemed very serious and unyielding, like a rock in a storm. Yet somehow he managed to maintain that air of 'I don't care', like if she pointed out his new attitude he'd still shrug and say, 'I didn't notice'. But if he said that, he'd be lying. Futaba knew that without a shadow of a doubt. This was like when Akira positioned himself in front of her when she was scared, as if he was ready to protect her from the source of her anxieties at any moment, or to throttle whatever was threatening her. It felt exactly the same, and that's why she knew Aoi had done it on purpose. He'd put on this new face to put her more at ease, and strangely, it seemed to fit him like a glove.

Yeah, he reminded her of Akira, and so she couldn't help but accept it. Maybe he was lying about not noticing, maybe he wasn't. But the point he was making was that he didn't care, and he wanted her to believe that he didn't care so that she would feel at ease. Just like her reliable big brother (though she wouldn't be caught dead calling Akira that out loud).

She couldn't help but break down a little and chuckle. "T-Then...thanks. Sorry for making you comfort me."

He shook his head. "You didn't make me."

A strange laugh tore out of her again. "You're a lot like Akira, you know?"

A head tilt. "Kurusu-kun?"

She tugged her coat around herself tighter. "Yeah. He's really reliable. And he helps calm me down when I start freaking out."

"I didn't do anything."

She frowned at him, but her lips twitched up at the corners knowingly. "Sure you didn't."

——

They made it Akiba uneventfully. In fact, Aoi stayed quiet for all of the trip as Futaba allowed  herself to slip into chatter about the current state of video games and online drama. It was suddenly so easy to talk to him, now that she'd realized how similar he felt to Akira. Aoi nodded politely at times, and sometimes chimed in with his own short comments when prompted.

They were stepping onto the street with their destination when Aoi said something that had her stopping in her tracks.

"Innocent Sin Online??" she exclaimed loudly, turning a few heads. "That MMO is old as dirt, and they closed the servers like seven years ago! What the hell were you doing when you were a kid?"

"...Coming from you."

Futaba rounded on him, a glimmer in her eyes. "Ohoho, so you do have some sass in there. I like it. Maybe you can be my second protege. You're already further along than Inari was."

"Inari..."

"My nickname for Yusuke," she said dismissively. "He's a dumb fox. Anyways, that's besides the point. I must say, I'm jealous of you! Innocent Sin Online was a bit of an underground MMO, and it shut down before I ever got the chance to play it! I didn't start getting really into online gaming until, like, a few years later. I was totally into my handhelds, though."

Aoi frowned deeply. "Is it strange?"

Futaba shrugged. "I mean, I guess not really? I'm sure plenty of kids played that game at some point. You enjoy what you enjoy, right?"

His frown deepened a little. "Right..."

Futaba—with the help of Aoi's Akira-like aura—managed to gather up her courage to pry a little, be a little bolder. "Why? What's on your mind?"

For a while, he was so quiet she thought she wouldn't get an answer. But then he stuffed his hands further into his pockets, hunching lower, stare oddly stony. "...When did that game shut down?"

She hummed. "Uhhh, like maybe mid- to late 2009? Not super sure, honestly."

He turned his stare on her. "And it's...?"

Futaba internally smacked herself in the face. "It's 2017. January. Um..." She looked at her phone's lock screen. "The sixth. It's a Friday, by the way."

That strange look Aoi held intensified. "2017..."

Futaba didn't really know what to say, nor what to ask that might prompt him to explain that odd expression, so she let it go. He was an amnesiac; maybe the current year was strange to him. Somehow, she had the feeling that even if she did ask, Aoi wouldn't have an answer for her.

"Well, anyways, we're almost there. We're gonna buy the phone first, then head to an electronics shop for some headphones." She gave Aoi an uncertain look. "Is that okay?"

He shook himself out of his weird mood and nodded.

"Okey dokey! I'll lead on!" She tromped ahead, Aoi quickly coming up next to her on her left.

——

Futaba stopped them in front of a general cell phone store. She didn't really want to go anyplace too special; what mattered most was that they got a good price for a good model, and this place usually had fair prices for phones and accessories.

Now that they were getting ready to go in someplace public, Futaba could feel her nervousness welling up again. While walking, it was easy to feel like she was in her own little isolated bubble with Aoi, but inside a store it was always so obvious that other people were around. Attendants hounding you, always trying to encourage you into asking questions or telling you the specs of whatever you were looking at, other customers huddling around phones and murmuring. The thought of it made her tremble anxiously.

"It'll be fine." Aoi's voice cut through her thoughts easily. Even though it was just as monotone as usual, it was still hugely comforting. She could practically hear Akira telling her the same thing, albeit in a much warmer tone. But...maybe Aoi's bluntness was nice, too, in its own way.

She nodded jerkily. "Thanks." She took a breath and steeled herself. "Alright. Dungeon, start." Next to her, Aoi nodded. Then she led them into the store.

Immediately someone was there, welcoming them in. Aoi somehow got them to leave them alone in record time, probably through his sheer aura of 'don't talk to me' he exuded on command. Then he turned to her with a silent question.

Uncertainly, she began. "Well...it's up to you what model we get. D-Do you have any function preferences?"

He shook his head. "As long as it calls."

Instantly, Futaba felt herself welling back up again. "That's every phone in existence! Literally the bare minimum!" she exclaimed with exasperation. How could Aoi say something so noob-ish?!

"That's fine."

Futaba barely resisted the urge to facepalm. "Okay, you need serious help. I will not allow you to get some scrub-level phone!"

"Okay," Aoi agreed easily. "I don't know much about phones."

"Okay, let's go look in that section over there then. Let me show you some of the newest specs! There's some cool tech coming out lately!" She reached out to grab his sleeve, as if he were Akira, but stilled right as she turned around to glance back at him, hand outstretched and hovering between them.

They hovered there for a moment, and then Futaba pulled her hand back as if she'd been burned. "S-Sorry! I didn't mean to be over-familiar!" Oh my god, she was so embarrassed. Aoi reminded her a little too much of Akira, perhaps. She'd almost started pulling him around like she did with Akira. The thing was, Aoi wasn't Akira, and he definitely wouldn't be okay with her touching him so casually.

...Was what she had thought, but then Aoi said something that made her slam the brakes on her thoughts. "It's okay."

She blinked dumbly. "Huh?"

"It's okay." He shrugged. "I don't mind."

"B-But we're barely acquaintances! Aren't I being too—"

"It's fine," Aoi said again, stronger but still neutrally. When she looked up at him, his expression was way too nice. A barely-there understanding smile, eyes touched with an edge of kindness...

She hadn't thought Aoi was capable of such expressions.

Without prompting, her mind went back to that image, of the light framing him in that dark room with the door, as if he was a being of light amidst the writhing, all-consuming darkness. She didn't know why that image came to her now, but it seemed strangely fitting for the moment. For someone being so strangely kind... For someone who seemed to know just what to say...

Tentatively, she let herself reach out and grip his sleeve. "T-Then let's go." Perhaps it was her imagination, but a flash of approval seemed to cross his expression.

She dragged (except not really, because Aoi was certainly too heavy for her weak arms to actually do anything) him to the phone display with the newest model of the phone she was currently using.

She quickly set into her usual tech babbling. "I'm using a year-old model of this exact phone, and it's super good. Really reliable, good specs, and not completely overpriced like some other models. It's good for what you get, and you can do a bit of everything with it!"

As she opened up the lock screen to play around with it, she noticed that Aoi was looking at the phone like it was some kind of alien object. Uhh, it wasn't that high tech.

He watched with way too much interest, borderline enraptured, as she flipped through the phone's screens and tabs.

"It's touchscreen..." He sounded way too amazed.

"Uh, yeah, pretty much everything is nowadays."

He cocked his head, eyes still fixed on the smartphone. "It doesn't flip?"

Futaba snorted. "Hell no. Flip phones were obviously cool for a while, but now if you use those you're behind the times. Smartphones are wayyy better. You can browse the internet on them, watch movies, whatever. Why?" She scrunched up her face. "Don't tell me you want a flip phone?"

Aoi shook his head, still seeming way too amazed. "I've just never seen one of these before..."

Futaba squawked in indignation. "Huh?! What were you, living under a rock?!" At the look Aoi gave her, she sighed and lowered her voice. "Right—amnesiac. Kinda weird that you wouldn't remember anything about smartphones, though. You seem to remember everything else about technology pretty well."

On the surface, Aoi gave an uncaring shrug, but Futaba could see unvoiced thoughts swirling in his gaze.

She dragged his attention away from that to show him how the phone worked. It wasn't every day she got the chance to explain tech stuff to a captive audience, so she had to take advantage of it while she could! She explained on and on about different functions, and Aoi nodded along with interest.

Then she mentioned that if Aoi downloaded Spotify for his music, she'd let him mooch off of her premium account, and he lit up. It was fascinating to watch, really. He didn't light up like Ann, all smiles and sunshine, or Yusuke, all passionate words and flair. No, instead, it was all in his eyes, in the way his usual monotone started to just barely edge into something more urgent.

"Spotify?" he said wondrously, as if he was testing it out on his tongue. "Music?"

"It's an app," she explained, which he understood since she'd taken the time to explain what an app was moments prior. "It's basically a huge music library, and you can listen to it all for free. It has soooo many songs, you'd pretty much never run out."

Somehow, Aoi's expression got even brighter. The pure eagerness made him look much younger than he surely was. Juxtaposing his clear excited expression, his voice still managed to maintain much of its neutrality, though not without some anticipation. "Endless songs?"

She nodded sagely. "You could make it your mission to listen to every song and you'd probably die before you ever managed to do it."

Aoi blinked, regarding the phone with even more interest than before. "Then...a phone that plays music is fine."

Futaba snorted with amusement. "That's still basically a given nowadays." The fondness in her voice surprised even herself. When had Aoi gotten so highly regarded in her mind? How strange. She was quickly growing attached to him and his weird blunt ways, and she certainly didn't dislike it.

She'd barely had a moment to entertain those thoughts before she hit a snag. Sternly, she reminded herself of a key factor. Aoi is just temporarily part of our group. He's only staying at Leblanc until we find out who he is. Don't get too attached.

Ugh, but when he looked at that phone so happily, she couldn't help but feel as if she'd done something good by hanging out with him. Something harmless. Even if Aoi had her feeling at ease, that didn't mean she wouldn't be able to let him go. She'd turn that feeling of fondness into a determination to find out more about his missing identity. She nodded to herself.

"So..." she started, catching Aoi's attention and pulling herself from her thoughts. "Do you want to get this model?"

Aoi's bright look was all the answer she needed.

——

???: new phone who dis? ヽ( ★ω★)ノ

???: lol jk it's Aoi's new phone number

???: put it in your phones so you don't forget it!

"Mwehehe... It is done. Welcome to the Thieves, Aoi."

Aoi tilted his head. "'Thieves'?"

"You are one of us now," Futaba replied cryptically as she handed his phone to him. He took it and pocketed it without much fanfare beyond giving it another interested look. He was probably thinking about music. He'd seemed distracted ever since she'd mentioned Spotify. It was actually really heartwarming to see him so excited over something so trivial.

"Anyways, now its time for the most important part," Futaba said, trimming her tone into something faux-serious for effect. "We've got to buy a pair of headphones so you can actually enjoy all that music." While she herself saw the phone as more important, she figured Aoi probably thought otherwise.

And right she was. Aoi visibly brightened at that, though again his expressions were much more muted than any of the Thieves. Even Makoto and Yusuke tended to react more extremely, and they were the calmest members of the Phantom Thieves. But Aoi was always so blank, even this much emotion was telling.

"I know a really good store; it has everything under the sun any tech nerd could possibly want, including great headphones!" Futaba closed her eyes and nodded seriously. "Come along, my protege. We must equip you for your journey." She grabbed onto his sleeve again—this time more naturally—and began tugging him along. He clearly played along, allowing himself to be steered down the street.

They arrived at her favorite tech store, and this time Futaba was able to steel herself to go in almost immediately. Aoi was kind of antisocial, too, and he was able to go in these kinds of places no problem, so she would try to channel that same strength.

They wasted no time booking it to the headphones section, and Aoi scanned all of the choices with wonder. It was like watching a kid in a candy store.

He ran his fingers over a nearby electric green display model. "They're so fancy..."

Futaba nodded triumphantly. "That's how you get the best sound. Honestly, what's the point of headphones if you don't go for the best?"

Aoi perused the whole section slowly, giving each pair an equal amount of time. He seemed satisfied even just admiring them, though his hands seemed to itch to wear a pair. The other customers parted around his impatient flitting without comment, and he similarly ignored everyone around him, seemingly with only a one track mind.

After he spent around fifteen minutes wandering, he returned back to her side. She'd been content to just watch him honestly, with how hyped he was, so the fifteen minutes had felt like just a moment to her.

Aoi took a moment to collect his thoughts. Then he hummed and turned to consult her. She inwardly laughed triumphantly at having gained Aoi's trust in tech matters. Indeed, he could recognize her clearly superior judgment in the area.

"Which one would you recommend, Sakura-san?"

Futaba held back the immediate urge to vomit. "Oh, ew! Yikes yikes yikes—god, no. Call me that again and I really might throw up. Seriously, that's what everyone calls Sojiro!" She put on her best angry face, hands on her hips. "Do I look like an old man to you?"

He stared at her for a frighteningly long time. To the point where she was beginning to think that he might actually be confused.

"No, I don't think so," Aoi finally said seriously.

"You should sound more certain!" Futaba screeched, though it was all just an act. It was her usual teasing, and Aoi seemed to have already picked up on that—she was positive he was messing with her.

"Time creeps up on you faster than you think," he replied, actually lilting his voice a little. Wait, was he saying she was going to be old before she knew it? Oh my god, was he teasing?

Futaba snorted at the realization. "Wow. Ominous, much? Your humor needs work."

A usual shrug. "I like it."

Futaba couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Okay, well, anyways, don't call me Sakura-san. Just call me Futaba. You're older than me anyway, why are you being so polite?"

He eyed her uncertainly. She glared at him threateningly. "Okay, Futaba..."

Before he could spit out his next word, she cut him off. "Add the honorific and I'll recommend the worst pair of headphones here," she threatened.

That was enough for him to cave. His mouth snapped shut.

She nodded with satisfaction. "Good. I'm glad you get it. Now, for the best sound quality with a good balance between bass and treble, I would go for one of those brands over there, on that row." She gestured to the farthest row from them, where around six choices were displayed. "Tons of people think more bass equals better sound, but I seriously don't agree. You need the right balance and ratio of bass to treble. All those bass-boosted remixes are seriously just dumpster fires in disguise. All of those pairs give a good bass range, but no 'bass-boosting' shit."

Aoi nodded along with her, seeming like he already knew some of that. It didn't surprise her—he seemed like a bit of audiophile. Someone who loved music that much probably also knew a thing or two about it.

He walked over to the recommended display, and Futaba trailed next to him. He looked over each pair, eyes settling on some vibrant red ones. "Ann told me I should get a red pair. As a nice accessory."

Futaba adjusted her own pair around her neck, purposefully drawing attention to the motion. "My own pair has red accents, so I don't think it's a bad idea. If you got one with more red than black, I think it would work pretty well."

Aoi nodded thoughtfully. He was still looking at the red pair. It was entirely red, except for where the ear cups connected to frame, which shimmered with silver accents. Similarly, silver accents lined the ear cups themselves. It was a somewhat plain design compared to some of the 'techier' options, but it was stylish.

She bounded forward and yanked a package of the red pair off the shelf, turning around and proudly displaying it to Aoi. "Don't just look at them! If you like them, you should get them. I can totally recommend this pair; the specs are great, and it's wireless, too, so it's super portable."

Aoi nodded, this time with more certainty.

Futaba grinned at him. "Cool, cool. Let's go check out."

——

They arrived back at Leblanc right around when school was getting out. Futaba kept up conversation the whole way home, chattering happily to Aoi, who himself seemed in a good mood. He'd refrained from opening the headphones up, having a lot more self-control than she would've had had she been in his position.

When they entered Leblanc, Futaba wasted no time in excitably rounding on Aoi. "Are you gonna try them out? You have to tell me how you like them!"

Aoi held up his bag reverently. "...Later," he replied, though it seemed to pain him to do so.

"Psh, don't worry about me. I can entertain myself for a while. Go test them out! I'll be down here. Sojiro needs company or he'll die of loneliness."

Sojiro raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't say anything. He was already immune to her antics, unfortunately.

Aoi actually took the offer she'd extended without any coercing necessary, something that made it obvious how much he missed his music. He nodded and quietly slipped upstairs.

"Seems like you two had fun today," Sojiro commented, smiling.

Futaba smiled back, in high spirits. The day had started like a disaster, but turned out really fun in the end. "Yup! Aoi is actually pretty savvy when it comes to understanding tech explanations. He has potential as a tech nerd and a gamer. I'll ask him once he comes back if he wants to play some video games with me. I need a Player 2 who isn't Akira for once."

Sojiro's grin broadened. "Well, I'm glad you two got along. Tell me if you and Aoi need anything later, okay?"

"Yup!" she chirped, opening up her laptop to do some research. She had to keep up with her promise to herself about Aoi, after all.

——

Aoi returned around an hour later, looking thoroughly satisfied. In fact, it was probably the calmest Futaba had ever seen him. His expression was placid, but in a way that seemed more genuine than before. His usually slouched shoulders were looser and his posture in general seemed very relaxed.

Mission accomplished.

The headphones were settled loosely around his neck, his default state. It felt beyond good that someone was appreciating her recommendation.

"So?" Futaba prompted, as he sat at the bar next to her.

Aoi nodded serenely. "The sound quality was very good, and the music choices were endless, just like you said. I was able to find all of my old music on Spotify as well. It was very easy to lose track of time."

"I think that's the longest amount of time I've heard you speak, Aoi," she remarked, thoroughly impressed. "Well, I'm glad you like them."

She allowed herself an evil smile. "Now... How would you like to learn the ways of the fighting game Super Smash Bros? I must warn you, I am nigh unbeatable. Only Akira has ever done it."

Aoi gave her a solemn appraising look. "Sure."

"Do you think you have what it takes to beat me?" Futaba asked darkly, still grinning.

"We'll see," Aoi said, a semblance of a sly smile crossing his lips.

Sojiro chuckled from his place over by the curry pot. "Alright, kids, before you do that, eat some dinner. I don't want to have to drag you away from your video games." He was already dishing out two heaping servings of rice and curry.

Apparently Aoi's high spirits were extending toward his shyness as well, all but dissolving it. He even seemed rather eager to have some of Sojiro's curry. Mwehehe, of course; Sojiro's curry was impossible to resist!

Sojiro set a plate down in front of each of them, and she wasted no time in digging in, Aoi following close behind.

"Thanks, Sojiro!" she exclaimed through cheeks stuffed with rice and curry.

He crossed his arms and gave them each a fond look. "It's never any trouble."

Once the two of them were done gulping down their curry—she noted with amazement that Aoi's eating speed rivaled her own—she grabbed his sleeve insistently. She grinned up at him. "Now... We've got a match to play, Aoi."

——

"Nothing again!" Ryuji groaned, leaning his head over the back of the sofa in exasperation. As per usual, they were meeting in Akira's room, Aoi leaving to hang out with Sojiro downstairs. He always cleared out very quickly when they met up, even though they never asked him to. Maybe he didn't want to get in the way...?

Well, regardless, Aoi was downstairs alone for now. He and Futaba had played Smash for a few hours before the rest of the Thieves returned from their Mementos delving at around seven o'clock. Sojiro had fed the weary squad before prompting them to meet up in Akira's room.

Currently, they were moaning and groaning to Futaba, tipping her off that they obviously hadn't made any sort of progress.

Morgana frowned from his place on Akira's bed, blue eyes slitted. "I just don't get it. That door was abnormal; nothing about it belonged in Mementos. Yet now I'm unable to sense even a trace of it. It's virtually vanished! It's like it disappeared once we found it!"

Yusuke hummed quietly, but didn't say anything. He seemed lost in thought.

Makoto shifted her weight, raising a hand to her lips. "Indeed. We haven't found it since that initial time. We've done several more Mementos targets, hoping that the portals will lead somewhere, but they're all completely normal."

"It doesn't matter how many portals we jump through," Morgana hissed in frustration, though it obviously wasn't intended at Makoto. "I can tell the second we enter a floor whether the portal is present. It's like...I know that I'd know. Now that I know what that door felt like, I feel certain I'd know if it appeared again."

Ann twisted one of her pigtails. "It's pretty odd how you can recognize the door, Morgana."

Morgana bristled, despite the fact that it was his beloved Lady Ann telling him that. "I told you, I've never been there before that time!"

Ann sighed gently. "That's not what I mean, Mona. I'm just saying, maybe there's some sort of link between the door and you that you can't remember."

Morgana deflated and looked away. "Possibly," he grumbled. "I don't know. There's something really strange about it that bothers me, though."

Futaba clacked away on her laptop, scrolling through endless amounts of schools and their uniforms. It was definitely gonna be a long all-nighter. "Regardless, I can come in tomorrow if we choose to go in again. I'll be able to help with trying to sense or locate that door."

She frowned at her laptop screen. "I have a suspicion about that door...but I think I wanna try to find it one more time before I say what it is."

Akira crossed his legs where he sat next to Ryuji. "I see. Well, let us know once you think you're sure." He twisted a lock of his fringe between his fingers. "I guess...all that we can do right now is wait for Futaba or anyone else to figure out what school Aoi is from and look for that door in Mementos."

Tentatively, Haru shifted on the couch. She was seated on Akira's right, posture prim and hands clasped in her lap. "Um, I have a question." Everyone turned to her. "Should we ask Aoi about the door? Isn't it possible he remembers how he got there?"

Akira's gray eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "Maybe..."

Makoto frowned. "Isn't that a bit of a risk, though? If he doesn't remember, we might make him overly curious about something dangerous to him. The Metaverse probably shouldn't be known by ordinary people. If he does remember, would we then have to explain the Metaverse to him? Would we want to do that?" She dropped her hand to her side, eyes hardening. "He hasn't asked about the door at all, nor Mementos. It's very possible he doesn't remember that. Would it truly be smart to prompt that idea in his mind?"

Ryuji slumped in defeat. "Man, I dunno. It's all so complicated. I don't wanna bring up the Metaverse if he doesn't remember it. It would probably freak him out."

"He could hear Morgana talk, though, and that didn't seem to faze him," Ann pointed out.

Makoto closed her maroon eyes. "True. Maybe we should broach the topic of the door at some point. But if we do, perhaps we should wait until we've learned a little bit more about him. It's possible he'd react more favorably if he's more comfortable with us. He's only been around Akira, Ann, and Futaba after all. The rest of us are still strangers to him."

Akira nodded. "True. Honestly, I support that idea." He turned to Haru. "It's a good idea, Haru. I think we should try it out once we've gotten a little more familiar with him."

Haru clapped her hands together joyously. "Ah! Well, I'm glad to have been of help."

Makoto met each of their eyes with her own measured gaze. "Until then, it's been a long day. We should head home and get some rest." Even though she'd seemingly taken charge of the meeting, she looked to Akira for confirmation.

Akira gave a curt nod. "This meeting is concluded. Everyone get a good night's sleep, and we'll talk more tomorrow morning."

A chorus of agreement resounded through the room. Futaba ignored it, staying parked on the bed even as the others began to file out.

She would not be sleeping tonight.

Chapter Text

Futaba: hey guys

Futaba: seriously big news!!!

Akira: what is it Futaba?

Futaba: get this:

Futaba: I figured out what school Aoi's uniform is from!

Ryuji: for real?!

Futaba: yup

Yusuke: Well?

Futaba: Gekkoukan High. It's a private academy in Tatsumi Port Island. Located right by Iwatodai

Akira: OH

Makoto: Akira?

Akira: THAT'S why I thought I recognized it

Ryuji: what the hell? You recognized it and didn't tell us?!

Akira: because I wasn't sure what I was recognizing

Akira: Iwatodai isn't that far from my hometown

Akira: my hometown's high school has taken school trips there a few times over the years

Akira: guess I was recognizing it because of that

Futaba: huh

Haru: It is a strangely small world sometimes!

Akira: guess so

Futaba: okay well thanks for stealing my thunder Akira >:(

Akira: hey I didn't mean to

Futaba: anyways the school is Gekkoukan High

Futaba: now that I've figured that out, it should be a lot easier to narrow stuff down

Futaba: still haven't managed to figure anything out about SEES tho

Makoto: That's fine, Futaba. Even this much is amazing.

Makoto: I actually feel a bit bad. I said I would help you with research, but I haven't seemed to find any time...

Futaba: I told you it was fine. Info is my specialty. Just leave it to me

Makoto: Regardless. I apologize for being unhelpful.

Futaba: apology accepted, guilt begone

Makoto: Haha, alright, then.

Futaba: I promised myself that I'd figure out Aoi's identity for his sake as well, so I kind of view this as my responsibility anyway ;-;

Makoto: ...If you say so.

Futaba: boo enough with the depressing mood

Futaba: we gonna go into mementos again today guys?

Akira: Morgana still wants to. He really wants to figure out what's going on with that door. But what about the rest of you?

Haru: I don't mind. It is possible that we merely need to be persistent.

Makoto: While it is disheartening that we haven't managed to find any clues yet, I think it's still too early to lose hope. We should continue searching.

Ann: agreed. Like Futaba said, I feel like I owe it to Aoi

Ryuji: damn you two really seem to care about him huh?

Ann: it's weird, but after spending the day with him, I feel way closer to him. I feel like we made some kind of bond

Ann: don't laugh!

Futaba: normally I might have laughed at a corny line like that, but I'm actually in the same boat

Futaba: Aoi reminds me wayyyy too much of Akira to leave him hanging

Ann: totally

Ryuji: okay now I'm a little curious

Akira: well, why don't you spend the day with Aoi then?

Ryuji: me?!

Yusuke: ? Is there any reason it should not be you?

Ryuji: I dunno...aren't I like too loud and abrasive and stuff?

Ryuji: he's so quiet. I don't wanna scare him away

Futaba: Aoi is more sturdy than you think

Makoto: 'Sturdy'?

Futaba: he can take some pushback. He seems quiet but he's tough underneath that shy exterior

Futaba: like a reverse tsundere

Ann: umm, I feel like we had fundamentally different experiences

Ann: but I will agree that I think Aoi is tougher than he appears

Ann: besides, don't put yourself down like that Ryuji! We love you even if you're loud sometimes. Don't let that bring you down!

Ann: Aoi is a total softie anyway, so there's no way he doesn't end up liking you

Haru: Opposite personalities are often good compliments for each other!

Makoto: That's also true.

Haru: ^_^*

Ryuji: I mean if you guys say so... I guess it's fine then

Akira: don't worry about it man. You'll be fine

Yusuke: I also believe in your abilities. You will be just fine.

Ryuji: well once you say stuff like that now I can't back down

Akira: ^w^

Ryuji: ...dude...

Makoto: Meet up after school?

Akira: sounds good.

Ryuji clicked his phone's screen off. He was sitting at his desk, wondering how the hell he ended up being the one nominated to hang out with Aoi today. He felt like he was way less qualified than someone like Makoto or Haru, or, hell, Akira. The guy was the biggest social butterfly Ryuji had ever freakin' met. Seriously, he worked like five part-time jobs and had a web of contacts throughout the whole goddamn city. He even had contacts with the freakin' yakuza.

So, yeah, excuse him for not feeling like the most qualified choice to spend time with Aoi. It wasn't like he didn't want to get to know the guy—honestly, it was quite the contrary. Aoi intrigued him a lot. The circumstances in which they'd found him were bizarre as hell, and Ryuji was burning with curiosity to know the story behind it.

But...Ryuji seriously didn't think he hadn't anything in common with the guy at all. Whatsoever.

Where Aoi was quiet and subdued, Ryuji was loud and overbearing and vulgar. People were always telling him how difficult or annoying he was to be around, and why would Aoi think any differently? Ann and Futaba said otherwise, but how could they possibly be sure?

But on the other hand, Futaba was a very shy and socially anxious person, and she had gotten along with Aoi extremely well. Maybe he really was more laid-back than Ryuji thought.

Groaning, he slumped over, resting his chin on his arms crossed over the desk. Regardless of all of that, he'd been nominated, and he couldn't let Akira and the rest of them down. Today he was on Aoi duty, whether he was ready or not.

Besides, who was he to let others' opinions of him get him down anymore? Wasn't that part of why he had joined the Phantom Thieves? To say, 'screw what the others say, don't take that shit lying down, be loud and proud!'

Well, hell, he was gonna be the most goddamn welcoming to Aoi, and he was gonna do it his way, to hell with worrying whether he would be liked. Akira helped teach him to be proud to be himself, even if others disagreed, and he was gonna live by that.

Ugh, but before that...

He had to get ready for school.

——

"Thanks for always supporting us, Iwai."

The ex-yakuza crunched his lollipop between his teeth, huffing a laugh. "Where's this comin' from kid?"

Sheepishly, Akira laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "...Let's just say I've had a crazy couple of days. Really has me appreciating the people supporting me."

Iwai leaned back in his chair, unwrapping another lollipop (it looked like lemon flavor this time). "Kid, you've always got an ally in me. You call, and I'll bring the firepower."

Akira gave him a sharp grin. "That's why I love you."

Iwai snorted. "Alright, kid, don't get too cocky. Now, shoo. Don't you have Thieving to do or something?"

Akira chuckled, giving him a tired grin and a wave. "Yeah, yeah. Alright, Iwai. See ya." He slipped out the door with his fresh haul, having sold off their Mementos materials and replaced some of the mods on his pistol. His wallet was usually plenty thick nowadays as compared to the inception of the Phantom Thieves, but he liked to keep it stocked up. His friends often told him he was 'loaded', but honestly he figured it was better to have too much than not enough.

"Hey, Inmate."

Akira turned to the Velvet Room door to his right, a silent question already in his eyes. Not only was Caroline's voice uncharacteristically quiet and uncertain, both of the twins were flanking the door, waiting for him. Slowly, he approached the Velvet Room door at the corner of the alleyway.

Once he'd reached them, he stuffed his hands into his pockets nonchalantly, mostly to cover up his buzzing nerves. "What's up?"

Caroline's lips tightened, as if she wasn't sure she wanted to go through with what she wanted to say. Justine, on the other hand, softly broke the silence. "Inmate, we are concerned for your new acquaintance."

Akira's heart jumped a little bit in concern. "Aoi?"

Impossibly, Caroline's expression grew even more tight. Justine only continued, though she seemed more out-of-sorts. "Yes, him."

"I don't see what the problem is with him," Akira started, keeping his worry out of his voice.

Caroline barely gave him the time to finish talking before she practically exploded with into a shout, as if she was a bomb whose fuse had just run out. "You shouldn't trust him, Inmate!" she scolded loudly, stomping a foot and gesturing violently with her baton.

If Akira was anxious before, now he was even more concerned. "What do you mean?" he asked, audibly taken aback.

Justine flipped through her clipboard softly. "Please do not mind Caroline's behavior. She is overreacting regarding the gravity of the situation."

Akira felt himself relax minutely. "So—"

"I was not finished," Justine said crossly, glaring up at him with yellow eyes. "While her emotional outburst is an overreaction, the sentiment is one I share, to some extent."

Aaand there went the calm. Akira was somehow even more confused and concerned. What could possibly have the twins warning him about Aoi? "What? Why?"

Justine unclipped her papers, straightened them, and re-clipped them. ...They had already been pristinely straightened prior to the action. "We are unable to pinpoint an exact reason; however, that is part of the reason itself."

"Huh?" And then Akira couldn't help but let some annoyance seep into his words. "Why are you two speaking in riddles?"

Justine huffed and shifted in place. "So impertinent. We are being magnanimous by warning you."

"That's right!" Caroline shouted, eyes sharp. "We didn't have to warn you, Inmate!"

Something about their behavior told him that they would've warned him regardless of his behavior. They seemed uncharacteristically worried.

"Anyways, if you would allow me to explain, I could tell you the meaning of my words." Justine's cross expression softened into something more pensive. "That boy is a threat. I cannot pinpoint his origin; however, I sense the touch of the Other Side on him."

That got Akira's attention. "The Other Side?"

She nodded. "We and our master are other examples of denizens of the Other Side. Understand why I am concerned now; I can sense the Other Side from him, yet not his origin. I do not believe him to be fully human. However, I do not believe him to be a presence native to the Other Side, either."

Alarm shot through Akira's veins. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you saying Aoi is some kind of supernatural presence?"

Caroline crossed her arms aggressively. "That's exactly what we're saying, Inmate! And you'd better listen to us, too! We took the time to warn you, after all."

Akira narrowed his eyes and worried at the inside of his cheek. "I can't just accept this. What basis do you have for saying he's not human?"

Caroline brandished her baton, and Akira barely avoided flinching. "Did you listen to nothing we just said?! As denizens of the Other Side ourselves, we can sense a strange presence from him! You'd do well to heed our words!"

Justine nodded. "That's right, Inmate. 'Aoi' is likely an unknown being, or at least tied to one. Until we manage to become aware of his origins, I suggest you exercise caution regarding him."

Akira hesitated, then decided to power ahead. "We know where he came from, though. We found him deep in Mementos, through a portal that led to a giant door. He was unconscious in front of it."

Justine's gaze sharpened. "A giant door, you say?"

At the same time, Caroline winced and narrowed her eyes. "I feel as if I am forgetting something, Justine..."

"You are not alone in your feeling, Caroline," Justine said, gently raising a hand to her temple. "This is very strange."

Akira tugged at his bangs, the motion fueled by equal parts anxiety and thoughtfulness.

Justine shook her head, looking up at him from beneath her hat. "This is troubling, Inmate. Caroline and I will ponder on this. Until then, you would do well to heed our advice."

Akira stuffed his hand back into his pocket, leaning back and settling into an unbothered posture. "Alright."

Justine gave him a stern parting look, as if saying: 'do not ignore this'. They then retreated into the Velvet Room, leaving him to mull over their ominous words.

——

Ryuji barreled into Leblanc with way too much speed, the bell jangling loudly. Boss jolted where he was doing his crossword, jamming an accidental pencil line down his page. Futaba was nowhere to be found, probably conked out at home after the all-nighter she'd definitely pulled to figure out Aoi's school so soon; other than Boss, the café was completely empty.

"Why the hell is everyone trying to break down the goddamn door?" Boss growled out, taking an eraser to his page.

Ryuji laughed apologetically. "Sorry, Boss..."

He huffed out a short breath. "It's fine, kid. But if you break it, you're replacing it."

Ryuji paled, hurrying to appease him (secretly he found Boss just a little bit scary). "U-Uh, yeah, 'course!"

Boss fixed him with a look before his glare softened around the edges into a smile. "Relax, kid. I'm just teasing." Inwardly, Ryuji breathed a sigh of relief.

"So, I take it you're on 'Aoi duty' today?"

Ryuji scuffed his foot against the wooden floors. "Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, was thinking maybe we could go for ramen or somethin'."

"I'm sure that'll go over just fine," Sojiro reassured him, and Ryuji truly appreciated it. "I've begun to realize that that kid's a bit like Kitagawa—he's got a bottomless stomach."

Ryuji couldn't help but raise a doubting eyebrow. "Really?" Aoi didn't strike him as the type.

Sojiro chuckled. "Really. Trust me, once you start making your living feeding people, you can tell these types of things. He won't say no to ramen."

"Well, uh, good to know," Ryuji stammered out. He'd worried that ramen would be too low-effort compared to Ann and Futaba, so the reassurance was good to hear. "So is he, uh...?"

"Upstairs," Sojiro finished for him. "I heard from Futaba this morning that she figured out where that kid's uniform is from."

That kicked Ryuji's brain into gear. "Oh, shit, yeah! Err, shoot, I mean. Yeah. Uh, anyway, Futaba told us this morning that his uniform's from some school called Gekkoukan High."

"Gekkoukan, huh...?" Sojiro tapped his pencil against his crossword. "On Tatsumi Port Island, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Ryuji said in surprise. "You know it?"

"I've heard of it before. Had a bit of a buzz around it a couple years back. Don't hear much about it nowadays."

"Oh, huh. I'd never heard of it before."

"It was before you were old enough to care," Sojiro said dismissively. "Don't know what exactly was going on over there, but it resolved within the year." He raised his eyebrows questioningly behind his glasses. "You guys learn anything about who the kid is?"

It was with disappointment when Ryuji shook his head. "Not yet. I'm sure Futaba will go back into researching it later today, once the others come back from Mementos."

"I see. Well, remember to keep me posted."

"Sure thing, Boss." He pointed toward the stairs. "Is it okay if I...?" It felt strange to just invite himself into Akira's (and now partially Aoi's) room.

Sojiro waved a hand dismissively. "You don't need my permission, kid. Akira knows you're coming by, so don't worry about it."

"Uh, right. Thanks, Boss." Tentatively, he headed toward the stairs, taking one final glance at Boss before tromping up to the attic.

Morgana greeted him the moment his head popped into the room. "You're late!" the cat chided, crossing the room to stand in front of him on the floor.

"I just got outta school, cat! I came as fast as I could!"

Morgana huffed. "I'm not a cat!"

Ignoring the usual banter, Ryuji scanned the room, seeing Aoi on the couch. He was on his phone—truly a real part of their generation now—and his new red headphones were over his ears. He was wearing dark blue skinny jeans and a stylish embroidered light jacket. Upon spotting Ryuji, he removed his headphones, leaving them to hang around his neck. It really accentuated his 'street wear' vibes he was currently sporting.

"So you're here today, Mona?" he asked, not a shred of animosity left there. It was all in good fun, the teasing and the taunts, but now he wanted Morgana to know he was being serious.

In response, Morgana became more serious himself, putting aside their rivalry to make real conversation. "Yeah. I checked in on Futaba this morning before Akira left for school, but she was totally passed out. I decided I'd stay home to keep Aoi company. But all he's done is listened to music for, like, three hours in a row!"

"Really?" Aoi asked, blinking innocently.

Morgana bristled. "Yes, really!"

He tilted his head. "I guess it's easy to lose track of time."

"Just for you!" Morgana meowed in exasperation.

"Uh..." Ryuji told himself that there was no one 'responsible' around (like Makoto or Akira), so he needed to actually get things on track on his own. It was an unfamiliar role, but, hell, how hard could it be? "Anyways, that ain't what I came here for. I was actually wondering...if you were hungry?"

Aoi blinked slowly at him with his gray eyes. "Sure."

Well, okay, that was easy. "Cool. Was thinking we could go for some ramen?" His voice lilted into a question, a little bit awkwardly.

Aoi nodded, and Ryuji felt an anxious weight lift from him. "Cool, cool. I know a really good place. You good to head out now?" Another nod. "'Kay, then let's go." Ryuji turned to lead the way out of Akira's room, Aoi's footsteps joining him a few paces behind. As they passed Boss on the first floor, Ryuji gave him a wave.

"Heading out?" Boss asked as he cleaned a glass.

"Yup. See ya later, Boss."

Boss grunted his acknowledgment, and the two boys headed out.

——

The trip to the ramen place was pretty quiet. Aoi wasn't talkative, and Ryuji didn't want to be too overbearing. He had a habit of opening his mouth one moment, and telling someone his life story the next. Akira had been cool with it when they'd just met, but Akira was Akira.

He had also made it his unofficial mission on this outing to be more 'tactful'. That was always what everyone commented on—Ryuji was friendly and his 'heart was in the right place', but he was just too 'tactless'. Well, he was gonna prove that he could be tactful.

They arrived at the ramen place by around four-thirty, and luckily since they were a bit too early for it, they avoided the dinner rush. They take a seat at the counter, and Ryuji ordered a large house special. To his extreme surprise, Aoi ordered the same.

Ryuji couldn't help but give Aoi's smaller body a once-over. "Dude...are you sure you can finish that?"

Again surprising him, Aoi nodded sagely. "I'll finish it."

Ryuji cocked an eyebrow. "Uh, okay, man."

The ramen chef started working on their bowls, so Ryuji decided to fill the growing silence with some real conversation.

"So, you like music?" Ryuji asked, sort of fishing for discussion topics. Aoi was a quiet dude, and he didn't have as much self-confidence to just go blustering ahead about his own interests like Ann or even Futaba when she was in the zone; sometimes he got a bit self-conscious around quiet guys. He wasn't used to interacting with people who weren't as rowdy as him.

To his relief, Aoi immediately brightened. "Oh. Yeah."

Alright, obviously there was a conversation to be had here. Ryuji just needed to get it going. "So, uh, what kinda genres you into?" That was usually a good opener.

Aoi's eye flicked upwards in thought. "Hmm. Hip hop?"

Ryuji raised an eyebrow. "What, like rap?"

Aoi hummed, then nodded with consideration, focusing back on him. "Mm. Like rap."

Oh no. The conversation was going to die at this rate; he could tell by the growing silence. Hurriedly, he fished around a little more. "You like any other stuff?"

Aoi's nod was so minute it was practically invisible. "I listen to some American music, too. Overall, I like smooth music, but I also like stuff with energy."

Ryuji couldn't help but laugh, though it was at its heart good-natured. "Don't those two contradict each other?"

Aoi broke a smile of his own. "Well, usually not at the same time. I like lots of different things. It depends on my mood. Sometimes I like to calm down with something more smooth, but other times I feel like I want to vent with something energetic."

Ryuji squinted at him dubiously. "Somehow it's hard to imagine a dude like you venting."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's like..." He fished around for a proper comparison. "...As weird as the thought of Akira kicking a table or something." He seriously couldn't imagine that from him, someone so cool-headed. Aoi had that same unruffled nature, like he'd never been angry a moment of his life.

"Kurusu-kun stubbed his toe on his desk this morning, actually."

An unexpected snort of amusement escaped from his lips. "Dude, totally not what I'm talking about." Though the thought of that was so at-odds with Akira's graceful image that it was kind of hilarious.

At that point, two huge steaming bowls of ramen were placed in front of them. Ryuji's mouth watered at the sight of the chashu slices and ajitsuke tamago, already grabbing and snapping his chopsticks in preparation. Next to him, Aoi mirrored his movements.

"Hell yeah!" Ryuji couldn't help but exclaim in his anticipation. "Let's eat!"

For a while, neither of them had the time to speak as they devoured their bowls. Ryuji was pretty engrossed in his own ramen, but upon glancing over at Aoi, he was startled to see him keeping up with his own pace. What a total opposite to Akira, who he always had to coax into eating faster.

Ryuji was guiding one of his last few mouthfuls of noodles into his mouth when Aoi flagged down the chef. "Another serving of noodles, please." Ryuji was so surprised he almost let his mouth hang open and slide half-eaten noodles everywhere.

The chef doled out another serving to go with Aoi's remaining broth, and the once-thought-to-be-meek boy tucked into it with nearly as much vigor as when he'd started. Noticing Ryuji's wide eyes, Aoi turned his head to him, swallowed his mouthful of noodles...

...And gave him a look that could only be described as mischievous.

Was he getting challenged or something?

Slowly, a grin of his own crept onto his face. Oh, so that was how it was gonna be, huh? Without hesitation, he requested his own second serving of noodles, not one to back down from a challenge.

Unsurprisingly, in the end Aoi finished his noodles first—seriously, where the hell did it go?!—and Ryuji nearly had to tap out before finishing his own. By the time his bowl was empty, he was totally stuffed.

"Jeez," Ryuji breathed out. "For a little guy, you can totally pack it away."

"Really?" Aoi said innocently, and Ryuji was almost certain he was playing dumb. Yeah, he could totally see what Futaba had been talking about before, about that 'reverse tsundere' thing.

Ryuji just huffed a laugh and pushed his bowl away from himself, leaning back in his seat and putting his arms behind his head. "Man, I'm stuffed. Totally didn't expect you to keep up with me, man!"

"It's nostalgic," Aoi said, a pleasant smile softening his features and brightening his eyes.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Nostalgic?"

Aoi smiled down into his empty bowl, and something about it seemed a little melancholy now. "I feel like I've done this sort of thing before."

"But you can't remember specifically?" Ryuji dared to ask, hoping he wasn't just bringing up an unpleasant reminder of his amnesia.

Thankfully, when Aoi nodded, he didn't seem too upset—there was just that same vague sadness. "I just remember the feeling."

"I getcha."

"I feel like I knew a lot of people, before," Aoi murmured, unprompted. Ryuji listened quietly, fixing Aoi with his brown eyes, silently curious for him to continue. After a moment, he did. "Ann and Futaba...there was something kind of nostalgic about them. And even now, with you. I feel like...there's something in you that's connected."

"Connected?" What exactly was that supposed to mean, exactly?

"Familiar," Aoi said. He hummed, glancing up at the warm wood paneling above the bar. "Maybe not quite right. Resonating?"

Ryuji shook his head apologetically. "You lost me. Sorry, I'm not too good at following the complicated stuff."

"It's okay," Aoi dismissed. "I'm not really sure how to say it."

"Do you miss those people, even if you don't remember 'em?" Ryuji asked on impulse, before immediately kicking himself for his bluntness.

Aoi was quiet. "...I wonder...?"

His dodgy words were enough of a hint to drop the subject. "Um, so, uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously and looked away. "Sorry, man. 'M kinda bad at this. I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

"It's fine. Like I said, it's nostalgic."

"Feeling bad is nostalgic?" he couldn't help but ask incredulously, clearly waiting to be proven wrong.

"Maybe," Aoi responded, and Ryuji wondered how he managed to make things even worse.

"Jeez, dude. That sucks." Ryuji wasn't sure what to say, but he didn't really want to just leave it there. "I get it, though. I was in a pretty bad place, myself, before I met Akira."

Aoi turned to him attentively. "Really? How did you meet?"

Ryuji felt his usual tic start up as he began telling the story, leg bouncing rhythmically. "Well, it was less than a year ago... Shit, man. Feels like it's been way longer than that. But yeah, it was back when Akira transferred to Shujin—uh, that's our school. Did you know he was transferred cause he got a criminal record on him? An assault charge." Aoi looked mildly surprised, but less in a shocked sort of way and more in an attentive way, like he was paying a lot of attention to him. Ryuji wasn't used to anyone but Akira taking his words with so much weight, and it made him a little embarrassed.

"Yeah, it was bullshit, though. Akira didn't actually assault anyone, but the shitty adults in his life didn't believe him, so he got totally framed for it. So he got sent from his home in the countryside to here in Tokyo for his probation. That's how he came to be living in Leblanc's attic and getting taken care of by Boss."

"Sakura-san is a very kind person," Aoi murmured softly.

Ryuji blinked in surprise. "Uh, yeah, he kinda is, right? I mean, personally, he sorta scares me. I can't help but feel intimidated by him." Internally, Ryuji figured that that was probably because of his past relationship with his dad. He wasn't used to father figures being cool and nice. Probably some latent mistrust and fear there. Or something.

"Really? I think he's very nice. It's strange."

Ryuji frowned a little, but still found himself wearing a wry smile. Funny how Aoi was echoing his own thoughts.

...Wait... What?

He knew why he found Boss's kindness ill-fitting, but why did Aoi? "I know, right?" Ryuji settled on saying, telling himself to not pry. "I ain't used to that kind of attitude from adult other than my mom."

Aoi was studying him carefully with those gray eyes, and Ryuji got the feeling that he'd read between the lines of his words. But in the next moment, Aoi didn't mention a thing about it.

"Yeah. Me neither." Finally, he broke that intense eye contact and let it soften into something more conversational but no less serious. "You were saying before?"

"Oh, shit, right. Got sidetracked. Yeah, I met Akira like last April or so? It was a pretty damn weird chance meeting..." He trailed off as he remembered getting captured in Kamoshida's Palace and watching Akira awaken to his Persona. Yeah, he definitely couldn't just tell Aoi that or the others would kill him. "But we seriously became friends in no time. I don't think I ever would've imagined having a group of friends like we do now, before. I was always alone, you know?"

Aoi nodded. Ryuji continued. "Yeah, I got used to being alone after what happened with me." Ryuji's eyes narrowed as he realized Aoi didn't know what he was referring to. He hurried to explain. "See, I was once part of the school track team before. But then I got in trouble with a teacher and got my leg broken and I couldn't really run anymore. And then the team didn't want anything to do with me either." He surprised himself with the way he was talking about these events without even a hint of bitterness. Perhaps he really had grown. And it was all thanks to Akira.

"I see," Aoi murmured with a nod.

"Yeah. So I kinda had to quit the track team after that. Not like anyone wanted me there anymore, ya know? So I kinda became a total delinquent. I didn't know what the hell to do anymore. Track was my life, but I didn't have that anymore. So I kinda just...stopped trying."

"Track gave you purpose," Aoi said solemnly.

The look Ryuji gave him was equal parts pensive and surprised. "I mean, yeah, I guess you could put it that way. So when I didn't have a purpose anymore, I kind of just drifted along. If people thought I was a delinquent regardless of what I did, why not just act like one?"

Without his realizing it, a wistful smile slipped on his face. "But then, I met Akira. And he changed everything, man. I mean it. Without him, I never would've gotten my shit together." He shook his head ruefully. "I would've kept makin' things difficult for my mom, and probably ended up nowhere. But Akira taught me not to care about what they all said, and not to let their words bother me. He helped me let go of the past, ya know?"

"Mm."

All of a sudden, Ryuji felt an embarrassed flush creep onto his cheeks as he realized he'd done exactly what he'd told himself he wouldn't do—throw his whole life story onto Aoi. "Uh, sorry, man. Dunno where all that came from. What was my point again?"

"You were in a bad place before you met Kurusu-kun," Aoi supplied, again with that considering look. It made him seem older than he was.

"Oh, yeah, right." He rubbed the back of his neck again as his leg tapped out a faster beat. "Yeah, so my point was, I get that feeling. That feeling of resignation, and feeling bad all the time and stuff. Didn't mean to go off on a tangent like that."

"It's okay," Aoi replied seriously. "I enjoyed listening. I'm glad things are better now."

"Uh, yeah," Ryuji replied, embarrassed. Why had he forgotten and started chatting up Aoi so much? Was it because his attentive listening reminded him of Akira...?

"Don't be embarrassed. I liked getting to know you, Sakamoto-kun."

"Just call me Ryuji, man. You call Futaba and Ann by their first names; do the same for me. I'm really not a fan of all that politeness and formality and stuff." He grinned at Aoi and leaned back in his chair. "'Sides, I think you probably learned enough about me that it's fine, right?"

The gentle smile surfaced again. "Sure."

——

On their way back to Leblanc, their conversation was much more animated, as if Ryuji over-sharing was actually the key to breaking Aoi out of his reclusive shell.

"So you like rock? And American music as well?" Aoi said eagerly, a far cry from his usual reserved self.

"Yeah," Ryuji replied equally energetic. "I don't really know what they're saying, but I love the energy! The louder the better, right? Plus it really keeps me motivated when I workout."

"Would you like some recommendations?" Aoi asked, surprising Ryuji with how forthcoming he was. "I have some bands you might enjoy. Plus, you might enjoy some of the music I mentioned earlier."

"Like the 'hip hop' and stuff?"

"Yeah." Aoi's eyes were practically glittering as he looked up at Ryuji, as if anticipating his response.

When Ryuji looked down on such an eager expression, there was no way he could possibly refuse. He panned his gaze across the buildings around them as he sought out what he was looking for. "Actually, there's a place we could pick up some CDs nearby..."

Aoi lit up. "Really?"

Ryuji couldn't help the smile that slid onto his face. "Let's go check 'em out."

——

They returned to Leblanc several CDs heavier, both of them having picked up some for themselves. Aoi had picked up some music he'd found interesting, while all the CDs Ryuji had grabbed were personal recommendations of Aoi's. Overall, it was an even better day than Ryuji had hoped for. Aoi really was pretty laid back.

Of course, the fun and relaxation of the day couldn't last for long once they were back at Leblanc. Sojiro offered them coffee (well, a cold cocoa for Ryuji), and no sooner than that did the others come through the café door, looking disheartened and exhausted. Ryuji's heart immediately fell at their expressions. More failure to find anything.

Sojiro similarly seemed to sympathize with their crestfallen attitudes, plating up some curry for them and pouring coffee for the new arrivals. As usual, they gave the one who had been left behind—Ryuji, this time, obviously—a purposeful glance that meant 'attic meeting'. Ryuji excused himself from the bar with Aoi apologetically, leaving the bag of CDs on the counter next to him for safe-keeping.

Honestly, Ryuji was starting to feel really bad for leaving Aoi out of everything. The boy never said anything, but Ryuji couldn't shake the feeling that he was betraying him by keeping secrets. The guilt was becoming difficult to ignore. But he'd have to keep ignoring it for now.

Once all the Thieves were gathered in Akira's room, the table set out in the middle of the room, as per usual, their meeting commenced.

"Nothing again, huh?" Ryuji commented.

Akira sighed and shook his head. "It was easy to tell, huh?"

Ryuji twisted his shoe into the floor of the attic restlessly. "Man, we're never gonna find this damn thing, are we?"

"I don't think the door can be found unless it wants to be," Futaba said quietly. She was tucked up on top of Akira's bed, for once her laptop nowhere to be seen.

Ryuji bristled, though it was fueled much more by discomfort rather than any sort of ire at her. "The hell's that supposed to mean? Why're you makin' that thing sound like it's alive?"

"To some extent, I think it is." Futaba's voice was unexpectedly grave. "I think there's something with a will behind it." She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her middle. "I mean, you guys felt it, too, right? How it felt like it was watching us. Maybe it wasn't the door itself, and it was just something behind it, but whatever it is, it's more than just some common Shadow."

Haru shivered. Even her shudder somehow managed to seem delicate and ladylike. "Unfortunately, I agree with Futaba-chan. That door has been bothering me since we first saw it."

Makoto glared a hole into the table. "I've been thinking the same thing, myself. It's frustrating, but I really feel like we won't get anywhere unless the conditions are perfect, and we don't know what those conditions are."

"Is it possible that it's Aoi?" Akira brought up, frowning. His words were halting, an unusual occurrence for him, as if he knew that he was suggesting something controversial.

As expected, Makoto bristled. "Akira, we can't do that! Aoi-kun could be in danger in the Metaverse!"

"But what if he's not?"

Agitated, Makoto shook her head. "We don't know that. And as long as we don't know, it's too risky! If he doesn't have any link to the Metaverse, it's more detrimental than beneficial to bring him in there."

Morgana flicked his tail, shuffling his paws with nervous energy. "That's true...but I think Akira's idea does have weight. I know we shouldn't risk Aoi's well-being, but in the future maybe we should take him into the Metaverse, if all else fails...?"

Makoto blinked incredulously. "Morgana, you too?"

Morgana looked away. "I don't want to put Aoi in danger, but I really want to solve this mystery..."

"Let's not be hasty," Yusuke broke in. As usual, he'd been rather silent until he decided it was time to step in. "There is no point in getting agitated over this. We still have time for Futaba's research to bear fruit."

Akira took in a breath. "You're right, Yusuke. We shouldn't rush into anything." And yet, despite his words, Akira's expression told a different story, like he didn't exactly agree. Whatever it was, he was keeping it carefully hidden. It kind of rubbed Ryuji the wrong way, but he chose not to call him out.

"Should we go in tomorrow?" Ann asked, shooting a purposefully glance at her phone on the table. "We're all thinking that the door won't appear unless it wants to, right? So should we even bother to go in?"

"Maybe one more time..." Akira replied with a far-off look. Again, he seemed like he was thinking about something none of them knew about. "Tomorrow's a Sunday, so we don't have school. We could get an earlier start and see if there's any difference, and be back before evening."

"I suppose," Makoto agreed reluctantly. "It's hard to shake the feeling that it's fruitless, but if we get in and out earlier maybe we can plan our next step after we return from the Metaverse."

"May I be excluded from tomorrow's excursion?" Yusuke asked.

Ann shot him a confused look. "Why?"

He hummed and closed his eyes, and everyone braced themselves for a spiel. Luckily, he didn't launch into one. "I have been working on an art piece, and I wish for Aoi's opinion on it."

Akira gave him a knowing look. "Sure, Yusuke. That solves who'll spend the day with Aoi tomorrow anyways."

The room fell into an awkward silence as no one else knew what to say.

"Well, this meeting is officially adjourned," Akira declared, rising from his chair with authority. "Everyone, as usual, get some sleep. We'll go into Mementos early tomorrow. Let's aim for ten o'clock."

Ryuji and Ann simultaneously groaned.

"I was looking forward to sleeping in," she pouted.

"You and me both," he sighed, but other than that neither raised any more complaints.

Akira continued through their whining. "In by ten o'clock, and hopefully out by around two o'clock. Does that sound alright to everyone?"

"Yeah," they all chorused.

"All right. See you then."

——

That night, when Ryuji had returned back home, he pulled out his CD player and popped in one of the disks Aoi had recommended to him. He looked at the track list, searching for the one Aoi had specifically pointed out to him.

Mass Destruction?

He skipped through to that song.

——

Aoi was totally right. He loved it.

Chapter Text

Yusuke woke up early to pack all of the necessary supplies. The other Thieves would likely consider his packing to be overkill, or strange, but he knew what was necessary. If Aoi was unable to come to him at his dorm room, then he would simply need to go to Aoi; doing so required him to be prepared for anything. If he brought less of his supplies but then found that he lacked for something in the heat of the moment, he would be nothing short of devastated—hence why he always made sure to pack for every possibility.

Even though his current work was in acrylic paints, he packed his oil paints, charcoals, and sketching materials, just in case he needed them. He also packed two spare canvases and a small sketchbook. It was difficult fitting his supplies into his rolling bag, yet he was a practiced hand at managing it by now and did indeed fit it all in the end.

By the time he was finished packing it all up, a glance at the clock told him it was eight o'clock. Unfortunately too early to head over to Leblanc. While he saw no problems with starting as soon as one was ready, he had come to realize that others did not share his same passion, and so to show up unannounced was rude. Boss was always incredibly accommodating and fed him probably around half of his real meals (the other half came from Akira), so he did not want to respond to his hospitality with rudeness.

He hadn't had the foresight to leave his painting unpacked until he was ready to head over, so working on it for an hour or so to pass the time was out of the question. It seemed he'd have to busy himself with something else.

In the end, he ended up sketching that strange door again and again. His sketchbook's previous ten pages were already filled with sketches of it, yet it never seemed to be just right. Each sketch managed to capture little of the emotion of witnessing the door. He could not seem to find the correct way to portray it. The sense of life held within it, the judgment the door seemed to hold, the all-encompassing otherworldly power of it—all of it seemed just out of reach.

But he was determined to capture it.

After around an hour and a half had passed, he set out for Leblanc—that way he'd show up just a bit later than ten o'clock sharp. The others were heading straight to Mementos without stopping by the café first, but they would be reconvening at Leblanc once they were finished in the Metaverse. He would have around four hours to work with Aoi. Hopefully it would be enough time.

When he made it to Leblanc, he made sure to graciously greet Boss, who as usual dismissed his formality and sent him upstairs to Aoi with two cups of coffee. Yusuke thanked him gratefully and Boss rolled his eyes, though not without an exasperated smile.

"Aoi? Do you mind? I am coming up," he said into the silent air as he ascended the stairs to the attic. Aoi quietly hummed in acknowledgment, though it was barely audible. Yusuke slipped into the attic gracefully, quickly noticing Aoi on the couch. "Boss has made us both coffee. Would you like yours?"

Aoi nodded, and Yusuke crossed the room in a few long strides, passing Aoi his cup without spilling a single drop. As an artist, his hands were extremely steady. He placed his own cup on the long table by the stairs. For now, he needed to talk to Aoi.

As Aoi carefully sipped his hot coffee, Yusuke began explaining what he had planned for the day. "I have come here for artistic inspiration. I have been in an artistic fury ever since we discovered you, and it is eating away at me. No matter how many times I attempt to convey my feelings, it comes out exceedingly shallow. However, unlike my earlier artistic plights, I do not believe it is a fault of my own character, but rather of the subject matter. I believe that I require a better understanding of what I wish to convey. So I decided to come here, directly to the source."

Yusuke looked to Aoi for feedback. He nodded, though it took him a while. Yusuke was aware that sometimes he tended toward the abstract, so people who were only used to dealing with the concrete found him difficult to follow. However, he had faith that Aoi merely needed time to adjust.

"Allow me to show you my current piece. Perhaps it will give you a better idea of that which I'm referring to." He turned to look for his bag before realizing he'd left it at the door downstairs. "Ah, my mistake. My hands were full with our coffee, so I left my things by the door. One moment, please."

It took but a minute to haul his bag up the stairs. It was rather heavy, but Yusuke was used to handling it. Once he had it in the attic, he opened it up, pulling out his half-finished painting along with his paints and a sketchbook. He stood up with his painting, turning around so that it faced Aoi. "Tell me, what does this painting make you feel?"

The second Aoi saw it, his brow creased minutely. "Is that...me?"

Yusuke nodded sagely. "Indeed. Does it bother you?"

His frown deepened. At the same time, his head tilted to the side, as if he was thinking deeply, though his gaze still seemed focused on the painting. "No. It's just strange."

Now it was Yusuke's turn to frown. "What is so strange about it?"

Aoi's eyes narrowed at the painting. "You made me look so..."

"Please, don't hold back. I want to know your opinions. They are highly valued."

Aoi's eyes flitted up to him uncertainly. "...Divine..." he finished, a clear question in his visible eye. Now that Yusuke had his subject right in front of him, it was very clear to see where he'd failed to even capture that proper gray hue. Ah, he was starting to feel very inspired.

Then Aoi's words caught up with him. "Hm. I suppose that is indeed one way to see it."

Aoi looked baffled. "I don't understand. Why?"

Yusuke looked down at the painting thoughtfully. It was a rendition of that day they'd found Aoi in Mementos, leaning against the giant door. The canvas's outer edge was completely shrouded in darkness, drawing the viewers' eyes in to the middle of the painting, where a beam of light shone down on Aoi, sitting against the massive door. His form was portrayed with soft, hazy lines, giving him an almost ethereal look, while the hulking door behind him was painted with strong strokes, giving it the sensation of power. The way it consumed most of the canvas caused Aoi's form to be dwarfed in comparison.

Yusuke looked back up at Aoi. "I just drew what I saw," he replied finally, a little bit puzzled.

"What you saw?" Aoi echoed, looking at him strangely, and Yusuke realized his mistake. Well, he doubted Aoi was one to pry deeply.

He continued normally. "Indeed. Your presence was very bright. I felt a powerful strength from you. Even now, I feel a radiance from you. It has not transferred well to the canvas, but I believe I am getting closer." Now that he had Aoi's opinion on that, he shifted his attention to the other piece of the artwork. "What about your opinions on the door? Does it evoke a specific feeling?"

Aoi was silent for even longer this time around. "Tomb," he finally said, very quietly, hands tightening on his coffee cup.

Yusuke flitted his gaze down to the piece. That had not been what he'd been going for. Specifically, he was trying to portray that sense of oppression that it seemed to convey, that feeling of life and power, and yet somehow at the same time, of death and elegance. "Would you say it feels...strong?"

"Immovable."

"Is it frightening?"

Aoi's eyes narrowed. "Inevitable."

Yusuke's own eyes narrowed, though his was with worry. "I'm sorry, have I upset you?"

At that, Aoi blinked, that shadow that had taken over his gaze clearing up in an instant. "Huh?"

"You seemed bothered. I worried that I had managed to upset you. Does the imagery remind you of something unpleasant?" Yusuke asked, innocently enough but admittedly very curious to hear the answer.

"...I just don't like it," he muttered, eyes darting to the painting like it was a threat.

Yusuke was deeply curious, but didn't say anything. He doubted Aoi remembered the door in detail, though he seemed to recognize enough of it to have a bad association with it. How strange. He wondered what would cause Aoi to hold such feelings toward it.

"Well, that just makes the fact that you gave your opinion on it all the more valuable," Yusuke commented, turning the painting back around.

"...It's not all bad," Aoi began hesitantly. "It also reminds me of...devotion? It's bittersweet. ...Looking at it is painful."

"I see." Yusuke looked over the painting with new eyes. While Aoi's words had been far from what he'd expected, the new perspective was what he had been desiring.

Hm. Bittersweet. A tomb of devotion? Perhaps...chains of the heart? His mind began to stray to thoughts of Kamu Susano-o, of the others' Personas as well. The chains of the heart were unfettered for Personas to manifest, but breaking those chains was exceedingly painful. Once broken, though, the freedom was liberating.

His mind strayed further to Akira. He had once described bonds as being chains as well, though not ones that held him back. They were chains that he did not wish to break.

"Aoi, if you don't mind my curiosity, what are bonds to you? As in, the relationship between yourself and others?"

Aoi considered his question for a while. "Anchors," he said succinctly, with absolute certainty.

Hm. How similar, and yet how different to Akira's own answer. "I see. I believe I understand the idea behind it, but would you mind elaborating?"

Aoi toyed with the edges of his coat sleeves. "Without bonds, you might as well not exist."

Yusuke frowned, but kept his disagreement from his face. Although his gut instinct was to rebuke that claim, he knew better than to stubbornly enforce his views without even hearing Aoi out. "What do you mean?"

Apparently his sleeves were extremely interesting to him, because Aoi refused to take his focus away from them. "A life lived for yourself is lonely."

"But are there not many things that hold value beyond merely other people?" Yusuke pondered aloud, not trying to be contrarian but simply seeking to understand. "Holding firm to one's own ideals for one, or devoting oneself wholly to a pursuit? Both of these could be considered fine ways to live life. Devotion to the abstract is a noble pursuit, indeed."

"Maybe," Aoi said, and Yusuke wondered if he was just trying to be agreeable. "But if you pursue those things and have no one to share them with, what's the point?"

"Personal self-satisfaction?" Yusuke offered after thinking it over. "I do not mean it in some selfish or self-serving way, either. I mean more that perhaps the enjoyment of attaining a personal goal is itself what makes it worth it. I do not think others' acknowledgement is necessary for a feat to be worthwhile." His art was a good example of how he'd learned this lesson. He'd become very consumed with the superficial, including people's approval, after his time with Madarame. It was Akira who had helped him break through that mindset.

"What if you have no personal goals?" Aoi asked, and there was something strangely dark hiding in his tone again, something almost brooding. His eyes were stormy as he stared into his coffee cup. "What if yourself isn't enough?"

Yusuke pursed his lips in thought, a slight frown creasing his elegant features. "I think that in that case, one should strive to find the value within themself and their endeavors. I believe that one of the highest pursuits in life is becoming the very best individual you can be."

"Is it wrong to live for someone else?" Aoi asked, finally looking into Yusuke's dark eyes. His own gray eye was serious.

"I..." For once, Yusuke wasn't entirely sure how to respond. When he spoke, his words were hesitant. "While I don't entirely believe it is something negative, I believe the final goal should be to live for something larger than the concrete."

Aoi didn't say anything, so Yusuke decided to try and prod him into a response. "Do you disagree? I'm not trying to argue, I'm just curious."

"...I do." As if fully devoting himself to the conversation, Aoi set his cup down on Akira's TV stand. Once he was done, he began to speak haltingly. "People...are very valuable. When many dreams come together...when you hold them all within you...don't you think that's worth much more than a personal goal?"

Yusuke watched him attentively, inclining his head. This was an interesting development, and he wished to hear more of Aoi's thoughts on the matter.

Slowly, Aoi obliged. "People's wishes...their dreams...their aspirations... When they place those things with you, it's almost like they become your values and wishes, too. Even if they give up on that dream, you still hold it in your heart. Even if they can't reach it anymore, it's still in your hands." He cupped his hands together and placed them over his chest. "People's hearts," he whispered softly. "Don't you think they are the most valuable thing of all?"

Yusuke looked back down at the painting. Perhaps...that was what this painting was missing—Aoi's heart. In this moment, Aoi's emotions seemed raw and powerful, so much clearer than usual.

It was plain to see. Aoi loved humanity.

Yusuke did not quite manage to share the same sentiment. During his time as a Phantom Thief, his ability to appreciate humanity's beauty had been put to the test. When all he could see was humanity's wretched ugliness, it was sometimes exceedingly difficult to see humanity's purity and goodness through the sludge. After Madarame, whom he had placed his blind faith and denial into believing was good, Yusuke could no longer turn a blind eye to humankind's impurities. It pained him, the fact that sometimes he could only see the darkness of Mementos when he looked at people.

But Aoi... Aoi did not share that same feeling. It was clear by looking at him that his emotions regarding humanity were deep, but no less genuine. Abruptly, Yusuke was struck by the feeling that he was witnessing someone—something—much wiser than himself. For as much as he saw Aoi as a human, there was perhaps some niggling sensation that he was in the presence of some higher power. The others likely did not feel the same way, and so he'd kept it to himself, but it had certainly come out in his artistic depiction of Aoi.

"What of humanity's darkness?" Yusuke found himself asking, attention completely riveted by the boy in front of him. "Is that still beautiful?"

Aoi closed his eyes, and Yusuke barely resisted the urge to frame his perfect image of serenity. "Humans are beautiful, regardless of their ugliness. Without darkness, their light wouldn't shine as brightly." His lips twisted into a melancholy smile, even as his posture was relaxed. He gestured lightly with his hands, holding them out to the sides, palms upturned. "People are jealous, or greedy, or spiteful, or prideful, or any number of other things. But these negative parts... When someone entrusts them to you, doesn't it just mean they trust you to see past the ugliness?"

"You are truly magnificent," Yusuke couldn't help but say, and Aoi snapped out of his nearly-ethereal aura in shock, snatching his hands back to his chest as if scalded.

"No, I'm nothing special," he enforced, looking troubled.

But Yusuke would not allow such slander. He shook his head strongly, mind stuck on how immature he still was in comparison. "You are a much wiser person than I. I had thought I was right in my beliefs, but you have shaken me." He glanced down at his hands, where they held the canvas tightly. The swirls of paint seemed ill-fitting now, rough and hard under his fingers. "Perhaps I have not grown as much as I thought. It seems I still have much to learn about life."

Aoi seemed baffled. "It's just my opinion."

"And it is a splendid opinion indeed!" Yusuke exclaimed, with more intensity than he'd intended. "The value of your opinion is immense! Already I have rethought my own values. It is rare to find someone so selfless and devoted."

Slowly, he allowed himself to simmer down. He set his painting down by his bag and pulled up Akira's desk chair to sit across from Aoi. As he did so, he spoke. "Truthfully, I wish I could gaze upon humanity with the same kind of faith you display. Unfortunately, my heart has also been tainted by darkness, to some extent." He shook his head ruefully as he finally got the chair by his bag. He gracefully folded himself into it and pulled his painting into his lap. "Over time, I have come to see more darkness in humanity than light. I fear I have become very jaded."

"That's okay." Aoi glanced at him, a bit shyly. "By revealing that, you trust me not to judge you, right? I hold more pieces of you in myself now."

Taken by surprise, Yusuke blinked, wide-eyed. "I do believe I see your proof of concept."

The conversation lulled into comfortable silence then, the only sound being Yusuke's own movements as he sorted through his paints. Once he had everything set out the way he wanted, he set up his easel and began to paint. Before he managed to get too engrossed, though, he made sure to thank Aoi.

"For what?" he asked, confused.

"For humoring my philosophical conversation. I am aware I sprung it on you rather suddenly. It gave me much to consider. I believe it may have also solved my artist's block."

"With a conversation?" Aoi murmured dubiously.

Yusuke gave him a knowing smile, one that was not without satisfaction. "Indeed. Getting closer with my subject allowed me to understand what I was failing to capture."

Aoi directed his inquiring gaze to the easel in front of Yusuke. "Are you going to paint it now?"

"Yes. Does it bother you?"

Aoi shook his head negative. "Not really. I don't mind it."

"Then I shall begin."

As Yusuke picked up his brushes, his eyes caught a glimpse of something in the background. A sound of surprise slipped out of his mouth. "Ah."

Aoi gave him a questioning look.

Yusuke smiled ruefully. "My coffee...I forgot about it." He got up and went over the table with his cup on it. Gingerly, he picked it up and took a sip.

"Oh...it is cold."

——

The bell to the café jingled loudly, and almost immediately the murmurs of voices—one of which was certainly Ryuji's boisterous cadence—became audible. Yusuke blinked rapidly as he snapped out of his artistic stupor.

"Ah, is it that time already?" he murmured woefully.

Aoi looked up from his phone. He had sat quietly for almost the entire time. He may have left once or twice for a stretch, probably to go hang around Boss or something, but other than that he'd been on the sofa, silent. Yet, it had been a nice, warm silence. Yusuke was sad to see it go.

He took a long look at his painting. The painting portrayed a reworked version of the scene. In fact, he'd completely scrapped the last one, painting over it completely with his new idea. While the scene itself was technically the same—it was still showing the time they had found Aoi in the Metaverse—the framing was different now. Instead of showing the full door, with Aoi centered yet dwarfed by it, the image now solely focused on Aoi. The prior painting had focused more on the juxtaposition of the power of the door with the unique divinity of Aoi's prone figure. Now, though, the door was present only as the backdrop to Aoi.

Since Aoi was the main focus of the new version of the painting, he'd been able to put much more care and detail into portraying Aoi's form. He'd managed to capture Aoi's delicate features perfectly, since his model had been sitting right in front of him. There was a delicate elegance to his face, and yet a power there that resonated with the supernatural. A being so bright that the white door behind him seemed dulled, and the black void of the foreground was cut through by the light.

The emotion within it seemed stronger now, closer to what he'd intended to capture, the feelings clearer and more poignant now that he knew exactly what it was he was trying to convey. That selfless appreciation of humanity, flaws and darkness included, was something he wished to preserve with the utmost accuracy.

Aoi's delicate softness was untouched among the inky blackness, the void seeming to bend around him according to his will. Though the door behind him had seemed ominous and powerful in the prior painting, now Yusuke had managed to convey a new emotion by using Aoi's description. Now it seemed to exude more complex feelings than simply absolute power—loneliness, devotion, strength, and at the same time, melancholy.

Yusuke himself almost wasn't entirely sure of the exact significance of the scene he'd managed to portray. He had the strong feeling that he was missing vital pieces of the story that were crucial to his understanding of it. As he was, he felt that he could not fully comprehend the gravity of the image, yet he'd painstakingly managed to capture every emotion in his flowing brushstrokes.

Solemnity and acceptance. Power and fragility. Determination and loneliness. Pain and hope.

A picture of perfect juxtapositions, all in some sort of strange harmony. Looking at it gave him too many feelings to name.

The moment ended as the rest of the Phantom Thieves tromped up the stairs and crowded into Akira's room. Aoi was already getting up, as if ready to leave the moment they entered. Indeed, once Futaba trailed into the attic, no one behind her, Aoi slipped downstairs without a word. Futaba watched him go, eyes swimming with unspoken thoughts. Eventually, she turned back to the group.

"Woah, dude," Ryuji breathed, his voice somehow right behind Yusuke. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the blonde staring at his painting with wide eyes. "This is..."

Made curious by Ryuji's reaction, the rest of the group crowded around Yusuke's easel. Once their eyes rested on the image, they each let out similar sounds of awe.

"This is beautiful, Yusuke," Haru whispered, transfixed. "Somehow, it conveys emotions I didn't even realize this scene had."

"Yeah..." Akira murmured, though he seemed strangely uncomfortable.

“Akira, are you alright?" Yusuke asked, all genuine concern.

Akira shook his head, black curls ruffling. "It's nothing."

Yusuke frowned but did not pursue it.

"Aoi looks almost divine..." Ann murmured into the silence.

"Aoi said something similar himself, actually."

"Divine..." Akira echoed, his strained mutter barely audible. Yusuke doubted anyone had heard it but himself. Seriously, what was Akira thinking about?

"This is an amazing painting, Yusuke," Makoto said, snapping him out of his thoughts. When he glanced at her, he saw she had Morgana in her arms, probably so that he could see the painting as well. "You managed to capture everything about that scene so well." Abruptly, her eyes narrowed. "Wait. You said Aoi saw this painting?"

He nodded. "Yes, as I was working on it. He gazed upon it extensively."

Her expression was sharp, fully in her calculating mode. "Did he say anything to prove he remembers this door?"

Ann started. "Oh! Shoot! You're so right! We can't take Aoi to the door, but this way we took the door to Aoi!" She fixed him with an eager blue-eyed stare. "So, did he say anything, Yusuke?"

He straightened up in thought. "Not particularly. He seemed to have certain associations with the door, but he did not overtly recognize it."

Ann slumped in disappointment. "Figures."

"Don't worry about it too much, guys," Akira said, although his eyes were still narrowed at the canvas. "Let's just let Futaba do her thing. We might get a potential lead."

"Alright, alright," Ryuji muttered, unsatisfied. "Sucks to have to wait, though."

"It's fine," Akira replied, more attentively now. "You can all hang here for the rest of the day if you guys want." He turned to Futaba. "Are you gonna start researching Gekkoukan again?"

She nodded, raising a finger pointedly. "Definitely. I'll park my butt on your bed and do tons of research!"

Akira chuckled and ruffled her hair. "Sure, sure." Then he turned to the rest of them, a serious expression on his face. "So? You guys wanna stick around?"

They all exchanged glances. Really, though, it was no contest.

"Of course, man," Ryuji responded for all of them. "We're in this for the long haul now."

——

"So what'd you guys do all day?" Ryuji asked, sounding bored. He had stolen Yusuke's chair, sitting in it backwards with his arms resting on the back. Yusuke had packed up his art supplies other than his sketchbook and moved to the couch. Ann and Haru were also on the couch, sitting to his right and quietly chatting, while Makoto and Akira were in extra chairs they'd pulled out into the center of the room around their folding table. They seemed to be engrossed in some sort of card game. Morgana was curled up next to Futaba on Akira's bed.

Yusuke looked up from his current sketch, a study of Aoi's expression from earlier in the day. The moment when he'd been talking about people's hearts had truly been radiant.

"Hm?" He let his mind catch up to the present. "Ah, yes. We spent a fair amount of time discussing philosophical topics. It was easy to lose track of time. Our conversation was extremely enlightening."

Ryuji scrunched up his nose distastefully. "Philosophy? Man, why'd you gotta bore him with that stuff?"

"On the contrary, he seemed quite engaged," Yusuke replied simply, taking no offense in Ryuji's brash words. "It was actually that conversation that lent me a great enough understanding to complete my painting. I had been grossly misunderstanding the door and the scene we observed."

Ryuji frowned. "Whaddya mean?"

"Well—"

Futaba's sudden sharp intake of breath was heard by all of the room's inhabitants, immediately silencing their conversation.

Quickly, Ryuji turned to her. "What's up, Futaba? What'd you find?"

Her wavering voice sapped all the life from the room, immediately turning the atmosphere into something dismal. "T-This can't be right." Her voice was uncharacteristically shaky. She hadn't sounded that shaken since they stole her heart.

"What can't be right?" Akira asked, setting down his hand of cards on the table and twisting his hair between his fingers. On the bed, Morgana lifted his head, alert.

"Okay, so I was looking into Gekkoukan High now that we know that that's where Aoi's uniform came from," she explained quickly, and it was clear she was rambling out of anxiety. "So I started trawling around online and looking into the school in my off-hours, hoping that maybe it might turn up something on 'SEES' or something and—"

"Futaba. Take a deep breath," Makoto scolded, but not unkindly. She folded her own cards onto the table.

Futaba followed her advice and inhaled deeply. When she spoke again, her voice was more steady, though it still wobbled a bit. "And I found an article on the 2009 to 2010 school year."

When she didn't immediately continue, Ryuji cocked his head. "Yeah, so? I still don't see what's got you so shaken up."

"Be quiet, Ryuji," Yusuke admonished. "I imagine she is still getting there."

She nodded. "Thanks, Inari," she said weakly, lacking all her usual bite. She straightened her glasses and messed with the hem of her jacket. "So what happened then was a bunch of really weird, really terrible stuff. People going missing, suddenly collapsing, students having to be taken to the hospital, stuff like that."

Makoto frowned. "That's terrible."

"T-That's not actually the worst of it. People died."

Ryuji blanched, sitting up straight. "'People'...? So that means more than one...?" All around him, the rest of Thieves held similar reactions.

Futaba nodded shakily. "Yeah. And the article had pictures."

Haru frowned and covered her mouth in sympathy. "Oh, Futaba-chan..."

But Futaba only shook her head. "That's not the point. I mean, yeah, seeing the faces of people that you know are dead now is never nice, but that's not what I'm freaking out about." She had to pause to take another breath to collect herself. "Two students died. One Aragaki Shinjiro and one Arisato Minato." Her voice deadened as she relayed more of the details, completely without any prompting. The Thieves exchanged uncomfortable glances. "Aragaki Shinjiro's death was chalked up to gang violence. He was shot and killed."

At this, Haru, Ann, and Makoto let out a collective gasp of horror.

"A student was...?" Makoto said in disbelief.

Futaba continued in that same artificially neutral tone. "Arisato Minato died several months later of unknown causes. The best they could rule was overexertion, but it came out of nowhere. His death made a huge ripple around the school. He was a transfer student who'd only been there for a little less than a year, but everybody seemed to know him. Apparently he had a lot of friends there. It says that one day he was fine, even went to school, and the next he was dead." Wordlessly, Ann got up and sat down next to her on Akira's bed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

After she paused again, Ryuji spoke up. "That's really terrible and all, but I still don't get what's so important about it."

Makoto swatted him. "Ryuji!"

He shied away from her smack. "What? I mean, it's true, ain't it? That kinda shit happens all the time! It's terrible, yeah, but we just gotta move on with our lives. And didn't this shit happen, like, seven freakin' years ago? What's the point?"

Futaba hesitated. "T-That's because I still haven't gotten to the important part."

"Um, Futaba-chan, you can stop if you'd like," Haru said gently. "You don't have to keep reading."

Futaba chuckled dryly. "Too late," she said with a shadow of her usual teasing tone. "And you all need to know this." She forced her tone into something light, but it sounded so obviously wrong. "But hey! On a totally unrelated note, I figured out who Aoi is!"

The sense of dread those words spread throughout the room was immediate.

"Futaba..." Makoto whispered, tensely. "...What are you saying?"

"Like I said, the article had pictures of the dead students and... I could tell you guys, but you'll want to see it anyways." Without so much as a warning, she turned the laptop screen toward them. On it, was what looked like a candid photo of a Gekkoukan student. He was smiling ever-so-subtly, just a barely-there quirk of the lips. When he was wearing that smile, it gave the boy a very gentle look.

Of course, the boy wasn't just any boy.

Ann recoiled in shock, mouth instantly agape and eyes wide. "That's—!"

"Arisato Minato," Futaba confirmed, clear and concise, giving the true answer, the one that everyone had undoubtedly shied away from in favor of 'Aoi'. But of course, Futaba didn't lie, and neither did the caption of the photo, and her voice had been clear and unwavering, as if to force them to face the truth of it.

A hand held up to her mouth, Makoto gathered herself enough to speak. "Arisato Minato...the boy who died of unknown causes...?" Suddenly, she blinked several times, as if trying to wake herself from a dream. "B-But that's completely impossible! You said that this article is referring to the 2009-2010 school year!"

"It is." Futaba looked over her glasses at Makoto, who at some point had stood up in her intensity. The room grew deathly quiet. "That's what freaked me out, too. Not only is Minato supposed to be dead—he died seven years ago."

"I-Is this for real...?" Ryuji's whispered words somehow managed capture all of their own feelings.

Yusuke shook his head, elegant features twisting into a frown even as his eyes remained shocked. "How is this possible?"

Futaba smiled shakily, clearly just a ploy to cover up her own shock. "Looks like we stumbled into our very own time travel AU."

Ann tightened her grip on Futaba's shoulder—clearly not enough to hurt, but enough to seize her attention. "Futaba, you don't have to pretend to be okay."

Futaba hung her head, and when she spoke it was with distinct resignation. "I-I mean, what am I supposed to say? This is crazy. Impossible. We found a dead boy in the Metaverse and he doesn't even remember that he's supposed to have died." When she lifted her head, Yusuke could see her mouth wobbling. "I mean, what are we supposed to do? Tell him that he died? Keep it a secret?" The blood drained from their faces as her words sunk in. They hadn't even considered what this meant for Aoi.

Her voice raised into something shrill, panic edging her words. "Hey, come on, guys. Tell me, what are we supposed to do?"

Makoto raised both hands, palms outward, and took a deep breath. "Well, first things first, we need to calm down and think this through. Freaking out won't do anyone any good."

"Um, is everyone okay?"

Makoto's eyes widened almost comically, the movie-perfect timing stopping her in her tracks. Slowly, she turned around to meet Aoi's soft, questioning gaze.

"Oh, Aoi-kun..." she began nervously, though her voice was remarkably steady for having been caught off-guard. "Yes, we're fine." She straightened up and faced him more directly, taking in a breath. The way she'd steeled herself, you'd think she was preparing to walk in front of a firing squad. "Actually, there's something we'd like to ask you."

Aoi tilted his head.

Makoto took the plunge. "Does the name 'Arisato Minato' ring a bell?" she asked tentatively, as if fearing the answer.

It was all over the moment the name left her lips. It was obvious to everyone in the room how recognition immediately sparked in Aoi. His eye lit up in comprehension, mouth parting into a surprised 'oh'.

"Ah," was all he said.

It was enough.

Makoto continued anyway, ever the one to make absolutely certain of the facts. "Arisato Minato is your name, right?"

"Yes. It is." Minato nodded once and closed his eyes. "Definitely."

"I see," Makoto said, a little bit weakly. It was clear she was unprepared and being haunted by what she should say about Minato being officially dead. Makoto valued truth, even when they were blunt truths, so she was likely at war over if she should break it to him. But with no time to discuss it, she was likely at a complete impasse.

Futaba broke in and saved her from her struggles, instead choosing to completely change the subject. "Hey, Ao..." Futaba caught herself in the middle of her words. "...Minato. Do you recognize the name 'Aragaki Shinjiro'?" Even despite her obvious earlier fear, her words were clear; perhaps her promise to herself to help Minato was enabling her to be strong now.

Minato immediately frowned. "Aragaki Shinjiro...Aragaki Shinjiro..." He said it like he was tasting every syllable, face scrunched up in concentration. "Shinji...Shinjiro..." He growled softly in frustration. "...I don't know. It sounds extremely familiar, but I can't place it."

Yusuke held back his own frown. To see such strong emotion from Minato was a rarity. A full loss of composure was unheard of.

"Well, it's okay if you can't," Futaba started to say, but Minato wouldn't let it go.

"It's not," he insisted, his murmur practically a hiss, due to all of the emotion it held within it. He placed a hand to his temple. "It's so close..."

The Thieves exchanged looks of alarm. No one was missing the abnormality of his behavior.

"There's no need to push yourself—" Ann started to say, but Minato cut her off.

"I have to, this is important. If I could remember my own name, I can remember this." His eyes were intense, but Yusuke wasn't eager to let this continue. His behavior was disconcerting.

Morgana shook his head. "Trying to force the memory won't help. That's not how amnesia works."

"But it's right there..." Minato clenched his fist against his head. It almost looked like he was panting, his eyes unfocused and breaths hollow. "It's very important..."

Yusuke had had enough. He needed to stop this. "I think that is quite enough. Do you not see how this is harming you?" he asked crossly. "Morgana knows better than any of us the nature of amnesia. I suggest you take his advice. I don't wish to see you work yourself into a panic."

"But..."

Yusuke cut him off before he could even get a foothold. "Please think about what you're doing. Is there really any benefit in purposefully straining your own mind for something so fruitless? The memory will emerge on its own when it is ready, not through some kind of brute force."

"...You're right." And he was back to that placid tone again, though there was still something roiling under the surface. It was a frighteningly quick change. "I should calm down. I should be happy with what I know." Still with that sense of misplaced calm, he turned to them again, inclining his head politely. "Thank you for figuring out my identity."

Everyone exchanged uncomfortable looks. His demeanor was rubbing them the wrong way. It felt like he'd suddenly erected a massive wall in front of himself, and it had them feeling disconcerted.

"Um, Minato..." Ann started to say, but Minato cut her off.

He bowed his head a little deeper before turning around, back toward them. "Please excuse me." He fled down the stairs, his quick steps betraying his inner turmoil. The sound of the bell over the front door told them he'd left Leblanc completely.

A thick silence permeated the room.

"So, uh, are we gonna talk about that?" Ryuji finally said, obviously referring to Minato's unstable behavior.

"That was very unusual for Aoi—um, Minato-kun," Haru said, tucking in her hands in front of her chest. Her eyes were worried. "He's always been so calm, I didn't expect him to have that sort of reaction."

Ann was watching the stairs to the attic with unrestrained worry. "I know... He's always so low key. Even when he's gotten panicked, it was never like this..."

"Should someone go after him?" Haru fretted, the creases of her frown looking out of place on her refined face. "He seemed like he was still very agitated."

For once, Makoto looked at a loss. "We don't want to frighten him away further..."

Before anyone could fully commit to anything, Haru was standing from her seat. "I'm going to go after him."

No one made any move to stop her. Everyone was too worried about Minato, but simultaneously too afraid of messing it up with him.

Ryuji finally nodded. "O-Okay. Yeah. Good luck."

She nodded with determination. "I will do my best."

Chapter Text

Akira rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Listen, guys..."

"Akira..." Makoto immediately said in a warning tone, likely hearing the preemptive apology in his words.

Still, he couldn't help but place his hands together, begging her for mercy. "I know, I know... You don't want to hear me say it, but the twins actually told me something strange about Aoi—err, Minato—yesterday."

Makoto's sharp gaze was deadly. Akira hurried to explain himself. "It didn't make sense at the time, but now that we know what we know about him, I kind of think they're probably onto something."

Taking a deep breath, she took a moment to calm herself down. When she opened her eyes, she was composed again, patiently waiting on his words. "Okay, Akira. Continue."

Akira took in a deep breath. "Okay, so they told me to be careful around Minato."

Yusuke cocked his head, a simultaneously elegant and awkward gesture. "What would compel them to say such a thing?"

"At the time, they said he was a threat. But it wasn't because they thought he was hostile or anything—they said that they could sense the Other Side on him, but couldn't sense where he came from."

"The Other Side..." Morgana echoed softly.

Ann tilted her head, voluminous pigtails following the movement. "'The Other Side'?"

Morgana explained for Akira. "It's what Mementos and Shadows and Personas all hail from."

Ryuji kicked his leg out anxiously. "What do you mean? Didn't you say that they come from the person's soul or somethin'?"

Morgana nodded, and for once he looked neither smug nor curt toward Ryuji. "They do, technically. But truly, Personas and Shadows stem from the Sea of Souls. Basically, mankind's collective unconscious. That's the basis of the Metaverse."

Makoto nodded, thoughtful. "I see. Jungian psychology."

"Sure," Morgana replied. "The important part is that collectively, the Sea of Souls gave rise to the Metaverse, something that is part of the 'Other Side'."

Ann's eyes widened. "Wait. So does that mean the twins were saying that Minato came from the Metaverse?"

Morgana was silent for a long time. "Possibly," he finally answered, sounding vaguely uncomfortable.

Before Ann could continue, Akira jumped back in. "The twins were saying that Minato didn't seem entirely human—which, at the time, I didn't want to believe." He fixed each of them with a somber look. "But now that we know that he supposedly died seven years ago, doesn't it make more sense? If some sort of otherworldly influence was involved, it could explain how he was seemingly resurrected."

Makoto shook her head, seeming torn between being hurt and affronted. "Akira, why did you keep this knowledge a secret? You know we've been trying to solve the mystery regarding Minato-kun. Any bit of knowledge would have helped!"

Fiercely, Akira tugged a lock of hair between his fingers. He didn't want to say so...but... "...Because maybe I was worried that they were right."

Ann frowned. "What do you mean?"

He tugged his bangs a little harder. For once, he found it difficult to maintain eye contact with them. "The moment the twins told me what they did about Minato, I feel like part of me already knew it was true. ...I can't really explain it...but something about the way we found him, combined with their words..." He trailed off. He hated to put any sort of suspicion on anyone, especially Minato, after how normal he seemed and how much he'd likely been through, considering his amnesia.

Akira wasn't necessarily a naturally trusting person, but he also had a bias towards people he felt that he resonated with—particularly those who were in periods of strife and uncertainty. Minato was someone in need, and to consider the twins' words that he could be a threat felt like a betrayal of trust. Minato had placed his trust in the Thieves, basically without question. It felt distinctly unclean to then return that trust with doubt.

"Is that perhaps why you were so bothered by my artistic depiction of Minato?" Yusuke asked simply, tilting his head. Unlike the others, his expression was mostly calm and unchanged.

Akira bit back a wince. "...Yeah. I guess...it just felt like the nail in the coffin. It felt like no matter how much I tried to ignore the twins' words, they just kept haunting me."

Yusuke cocked his head. "Is it truly so big of a deal if Minato is of supernatural origin? Morgana is also one of us, is he not?"

Worry hooked its claws deeper into Akira's heart. When he looked away, his gaze was shadowed. "That's..." He didn't finish his thought. That's not the same, he wanted to say. I don't think Minato is the same.

"Can they really be compared, though?" Ann wondered dubiously, echoing a facsimile of his own thoughts. "Morgana's a cat in the real world, and he doesn't even look human in the Metaverse. Minato looks human in both."

For once, Morgana didn't comment on the 'cat' part of her statement.

That's what I'm worried about, Akira fretted to himself. The only similar beings he knew were possibly the twins. But they were inhuman in their own, obvious ways; their appearances were strange, and they held no knowledge of the outside, real world. Minato was behind on the times—something that now made sense, knowing that he had been certifiably dead for seven years—but he knew the basics. He wasn't ignorant of humans, nor of human culture. He was socially reclusive, but judging by the reactions of everyone who'd spent time with him, he was fairly socially adept when it came down to it. His uniform was of a real, existing school. It just didn't add up.

It was all of the contradictions that gave him that deep sense of worry. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something gravely important.

Akira fiddled with his hair some more, simply out of his own version of self-comfort. "I...I just can't shake the feeling that there's something really strange going on, guys."

"Ain't nobody arguing with that part, man." Ryuji frowned at him. "The dude is supposed to be dead. Shit's kinda effed right now."

"Akira." Yusuke's quiet musing got his attention. When he lifted his gaze to the other boy's, he was fixed with one of Yusuke's usual all-too-focused stares. "Do you think that Minato is dangerous?" That brought a sort of quiet tension upon the room as his words set in. "You mentioned your acquaintances saying he was a threat, but did not comment on whether or not you believe in their words. What is your opinion on it?"

Uncomfortably, Akira shifted in place. "I..." Suddenly, he felt crushed by that expectation, that pressure to be the leader who knew what he was doing. But he didn't know what he was doing, and he didn't know everything, but he felt like—as the person that they always looked toward for guidance—he had to have an answer. It was an answer that he didn't have.

Did he think Minato was a threat?

Well, it was much more complicated than just a yes or no.

"I..." he started again, trying not to let his vulnerability show too much in his words but failing spectacularly. "After what we've learned, I don't want to throw the twins' words out without a care. You guys didn't see the way they were acting, but it was really out of character. I can't just ignore their warning. It wouldn't feel right."

"But doubting Minato..." Ann started, pursing her lips tightly. She shook her head. "He doesn't deserve that! You guys saw him! Just now, he was totally freaking out over the situation! There's no way he's dangerous!"

"...I think I may be with Akira on this one," Makoto began uncertainly. She clutched her hands together tightly, but didn't drop her gaze. "Akira is saying that the, um, 'twins'' warning was strange. We shouldn't take that for granted. Plus, other than what we've managed to dig up through our research, we don't know anything about Minato-kun. It's well within the realm of possibility that something sinister may be afoot."

Ryuji bristled. "Hey, man, what the hell?! You two are seriously gonna doubt him like this? Who gives a shit what their damn warning was when he obviously ain't a danger? Now we're gonna call him some evil mastermind for, what, havin' amnesia?"

"Ryuji, calm down," Makoto scolded, but it was gentle. "I don't think either of us are suggesting that. We're not saying Minato-kun is malicious." She flicked her rust-colored gaze to Akira. "Right?"

He started a little. "Right. Exactly. I'm not trying to call him 'evil' or anything like that. I'm just...worried."

Makoto nodded crisply. "Right. Plus, it is a distinct possibility that he's lying about having amnesia. We haven't exactly pressed him very hard about it."

Ann's blue eyes narrowed, and Akira could see the fierce heat welling up behind her expression. "Minato is not lying! Didn't you hear what I was saying before?"

Before Ann could work herself into a fierce friendship tirade, Makoto continued. "I'm not saying that I believe that that's the case. I just want to bring up every possibility. I'm just playing devil's advocate."

"Devil's advocate?" Ryuji echoed, his anger put on hold for confusion.

Makoto sighed a long-suffering sigh. "I'm just arguing for the other side for the sake of considering all possibilities, not necessarily because I believe it."

"I, for one, understand both sides of the argument," Yusuke offered unprompted, inadvertently succeeding in destroying any tension. "It is practical to consider the twins' words, but it is also true that Minato is someone that I would like to consider a friend—as I am sure Ann and Ryuji agree with."

Probably to take the heat off of himself and the current topic, Ryuji turned to Morgana and Futaba. "What about you guys? You've both been real quiet. What do you guys think about Minato?"

"I'm with Inari," Futaba said flippantly, but Akira could tell some of it was a coverup for how shaken the earlier discovery had made her. "I get why you guys might be worried, but personally I think Minato's too short to, like, end the world or something."

Akira couldn't help the small smile that cropped up at her words. "I don't know if I would've gone that far, but point taken. Morgana?"

The cat had a pensive look on his face. "I think you're right to be careful, Akira. I've had a weird feeling about all of this from the very start. But I don't think Minato is lying to us, either. Whatever's going on, I'm not sure that Minato knows what it is himself."

Akira hummed thoughtfully. "I think you're probably right."

"Not to totally change the subject, but..." Futaba faltered as everyone suddenly put their attention on her, but was able to regain her footing. "Do you think that we might learn more if we take Minato into the Metaverse now?" She toyed with the ends of her hair anxiously. "I know we said we wouldn't take him in there, but now that we know something strange is going on, isn't it possible taking him back in might give us more clues?" She looked at each of them over the rim of her glasses. "I mean, I can keep doing research on him online, obviously, but it kind of seems obvious the Metaverse is involved..."

"I agree," Morgana said instantly, surprising no one. He'd been pretty adamant that something strange was going on regarding Mementos and the door. "Someone seemingly coming back to life has to be related to the cognitive world somehow. That door is still our best lead right now." He lifted his head, blue eyes gleaming in the afternoon light. "It might only appear if Minato is around."

Ann placed a finger to her lips in thought. "That's true, huh? And Minato was so cool with a talking cat, too; maybe he wouldn't freak out if we took him into Mementos."

"Not a cat," Morgana grumbled quietly, half-hearted.

"What if he's got a Persona?" Ryuji asked, sounding excited. Against all odds, it seemed the thought of people having powers and gaining new teammates still managed to get him riled up, even in a situation like this. "After spendin' time with him, doesn't he kinda remind you guys of us?" He looked to Futaba, Ann, and Yusuke for agreement.

Slowly, Yusuke nodded. "While his views of the world are remarkably more hopeful than our own, I could sense a deep understanding of the human heart from him."

"He did kind of give me that vibe, once I got him out of his shell," Ann contemplated.

Futaba nodded. "He fits right in, tragic past and all."

Makoto nodded, starting off slow but growing more certain. "I think I can see where you guys are coming from. Honestly, it would be a good thing if he had a Persona. It would put my mind at ease some."

Ryuji cocked his head. "Huh? Whaddya mean?"

"If he has a Persona, that gives us more proof that he's something close to human. The only—tentatively—non-human one of us is Morgana, who we can obviously trust. If Minato-kun has a Persona, I think it would at the least be somewhat reassuring."

Akira nodded. Her words were reasonable. He'd probably feel more at ease if he saw that Minato was a Persona-user just like them. It might help lessen that kind of...alien feeling that Akira couldn't seem to shake from him. "I can see that." With that, he put on his Joker voice and addressed the group. "Everyone in favor of taking Minato into Mementos, raise your hand."

Six hands and one paw shot into the air.

"Alright, then it's unanimous." Akira saw multiple Thieves begin to open their mouths, so he hurried to correct himself. "Obviously we still need Haru's opinion, but I'm sure she'll agree. She was in favor of asking Minato about the door in the first place. I have a feeling she won't object to taking him into Mementos. We can ask her once she comes back."

"Uh, yeah, speaking of that..." Ryuji's expression was worried. "Is she gonna be okay? Minato seemed like he was really freaking out..."

"Let's just have faith in her," Akira said decidedly. "If anyone is fit to handle this, it's her."

——

Haru caught up to Minato at the subway station. He was already waiting at the platform to board a train when she reached him, tapping his arm with a ghost of a touch to get his attention. He didn't quite startle, but when he snapped his gaze to her, there was the distinct tinge of a frightened animal in his eyes; it was as if he was afraid of the possibility of her attempting to drag him back.

Of course, she planned to do no such thing.

Instead, she gave him a patient smile. "Would you like to help me tend to my garden?"

That had not been anything close to what he'd been expecting. He blinked at her, trapped in some kind of shock.

The announcer intoned the incoming train. She inclined her head toward the tracks. "Shall we take the train to the school? I have several planter boxes on the rooftop there." She continued in the wake of his silence. "I find that gardening helps to clear my head when my thoughts get overwhelming. It's very cathartic."

For a minute or so, she was left to wait in silence. But she knew Minato had heard her.

And then, jerkily, he nodded.

She nodded back, having expected that response, and turned to the edge of the platform to reduce the pressure of her presence on him. "Then let's get on the next train."

When the train arrived and she boarded, he followed her lead without a word.

——

Minato trailed behind her like a ghost. He didn't say a single peep the whole way there, following a step behind her as if tethered by an invisible leash. Even once they slipped onto school grounds—she had permission, of course—and up to the roof, he hadn't uttered a word.

She waited until she'd watered the plants, giving each of them ample time under the spray, before finally deciding to pry into Minato's thoughts, turning to him patiently. "Would you like to talk about what's on your mind? Please, don't feel pressured into speaking, but I did want to offer."

Minato's grip around his arms—now that she was looking at him, she could see that he was hugging his arms around his middle protectively—tightened, and he looked away. He still seemed very upset. "Lots of thoughts."

"That's okay," Haru reassured him gently. "If you'd like, I could help you sort them out."

Slowly, he nodded. "I..." He quickly lost his voice.

Patiently, Haru shook her head. She grabbed a pair of gloves for herself and a spare for Minato. She held them out toward him, a peace offering. He stared at them like they were foreign objects.

"I'm about to start the weeding," she explained.

Hesitantly, he accepted the gloves and put them on. To give him a lead to follow, she kneeled down next to the planters and began to pull out weeds and other debris. Eventually, Minato followed her lead.

She wasn't going to push him any more into talking. It was clear that he wanted a listening ear, and she was content to give that to him. Minato was such a closed-off person, someone that everyone had seemingly found themselves instantly relying on, that she knew he needed someone to rely on himself. But he was so withdrawn, that person needed to be very careful to be passive. Too forceful, and he would bottle everything up again. In a way, he reminded her slightly of herself—strong in a soft way, bending but not breaking, but also hiding and hiding and hiding emotions until the inevitable step too far.

"I'm upset..." Minato's quiet voice was slightly hoarse.

"I know," Haru replied simply. "I understand. It's frustrating, to not remember, right?"

"Not just that," he said through gritted teeth. He was to her left, so she couldn't see his eyes due to his long bangs. "Don't know what else. But it's not just that."

"I see."

"It hurts inside, too..." His hand twitched toward his body like he wanted to clench at his chest, but the dirt coating his gloves seemed to stop him.

"You've gone a while restraining your emotions, right?" Haru settled back on her haunches to look at him more fully. She hoped that her body language would encourage him to look at her. Unfortunately, he stayed staring into the planter, but his hands weren't moving anymore. "You've taken this whole situation very well. Too well, in fact. Pardon me for saying so, but you've been holding it inside, haven't you?"

She mercifully pretended not to see his hands shaking. "I'm sorry that we haven't been more considerate of your emotions," she said softly. "You haven't gotten the chance to be truly alone much, have you?"

He pulled his hands from the planter, clenching them in front of his chest. Loose clods of dirt fell from his gloves to the rooftop. Still, he was silent.

"I believe I understand your feelings, perhaps better than the others. Oh, I don't mean to make the assumption that I understand what you're going through, that would be insensitive of me. But...the feeling of bottling everything up until it explodes..." She smiled at him sadly, even though he wasn't looking. "I understand that very well."

His shaky intake of breath was all too telling.

"Don't feel like you have to go through things alone," she told him kindly. "Oh, unless you'd rather be alone to vent your emotions. I could leave if you want some privacy?" She started to shift, but he turned toward her slightly, hand reaching out as if to tug on her coat.

"Don't...leave..." he whispered. She could only barely see his visible eye from this angle, but what she saw lanced through her heart. No one should seem so haunted at the thought of being alone.

To reassure him, she settled back down and raised her hands slowly. "Of course. I'll be here for you, if you want me to be." Jerkily, he nodded.

Carefully, she watched his chest heave with heavy breaths. He was nowhere near calm. The emotions eating him up were still trapped inside. "Minato-kun..." she began, exceedingly softly. "You can't keep everything bottled up forever. It's okay to cry. I used to be afraid that showing how upset things made me made me look weak." Gingerly, she took his hands in her own, moving slowly enough that he could've pulled away if he wanted to. "But that's not true. Having feelings is human. It makes you strong."

She squeezed his hands. "It's okay to cry," she said again, and Minato's head drooped with her words. With the way his back was shuddering, she could tell he was either actively holding back tears, or silently crying. The sight was painful. She recognized it all too well—the restrained sobs, silent and unobtrusive, so that no one would notice her unhappiness. It was what was reflected in Minato now.

But Minato wasn't alone. Haru was with him on the rooftop. He did not have to hide his tears from her, and he did not have to comfort himself. She would hold his hands, and give him the comfort she'd always wished she'd had.

Slowly, she wiggled one of her hands out from his grip, setting it carefully down onto his shoulder. She was careful not to make any sharp movements, not wanting to overstep any boundaries nor frighten him away. And eventually, her efforts were rewarded as he allowed her to take her other hand and wrap it around his back.

And then he broke.

He cried into her chest like a child. His tears were still completely silent, save for his shivery breaths and sniffles. But his grip on the front of her coat was strong, as if she was his sole anchor to the world. In response, she tightened her hug around him, silently letting himself cry himself out. She stroked his back idly, rubbing comforting circles.

They stayed like that for a while; she didn't know how long. Her legs started to feel cramped and uncomfortable, but she ignored them. Minato was more important.

Eventually, his breathing steadied and his grip on her loosened.

"Hey..." came a quiet murmur from her chest, and she pulled away slightly to give him room. He looked up at her, vulnerable and struggling and deeply pained, and asked her something she somehow knew wasn't actually meant for her. "...You won't leave me, right?"

The way he looked at her, she could tell he was seeing someone else—even if he himself didn't realize it. Yet, she knew what she was supposed to say, what he needed to hear, even if she wasn't the right person. "Of course not. I'll always be there for you."

——

"I'm sorry about your coat..." he murmured, glancing at her clothes.

Haru wasn't even sure what he was talking about until she looked down herself and saw the dirt ground into the fabric of her coat, wet splotches also left behind from Minato's tears. "Oh! Oh, no, it's fine. Nothing a good wash won't fix."

He still looked dubious and guilty, but he didn't press it. "Sorry for crying."

Frowning, she kept her voice strong but not angry. "Don't apologize. You have emotions just like anyone else." She tried on a patient smile. "I'm glad you allowed yourself to rely on me."

"It's...been a lot to take in..." Minato said, neither accepting nor rejecting her words. "...I've been trying not to think too hard...but I guess that was too much at once..."

Haru nodded sympathetically. "I can't even begin to imagine how painful it must be to be unable to remember your past. Especially when confronted directly with it..."

All at once, his gaze grew both deeply haunted and strangely distant. "...Awful. Like a stake. Through the heart."

Haru carefully considered him. Ever since his breakdown, Minato had reverted back to blunter, more incomplete thoughts, as if the very act of talking itself exhausted him. She didn't want to push him, but it worried her that she was still keeping his innermost thoughts pushed down.

"Please don't feel the need to pretend to be okay," Haru finally said, voice strong but careful; she was aware that she was in a bit of a strange territory. "I'm the last person to judge you for your emotions. In fact..." She hesitated for a moment, but in the end powered through. "I think it's very important that you face what's eating away at you. I don't mean to overstep, but locking your emotions away is an easy way to self-destruct."

Minato didn't say anything, just staring at her. She couldn't quite gauge what his expression was conveying.

Quickly, she backpedaled, hiding a small grimace behind a dainty hand. "I apologize. That came off a little bit harshly. That was wrong of me to say, after what you just went through." Her brows upturned apologetically, giving him a rueful look. "Please forgive me. I meant more to say that while I think expressing your emotions is important, I also think getting to the root of the problem is just as important, too."

Slowly, slowly, Minato seemed to fold. "...Don't have to apologize. I understand."

At that, she couldn't help the little giggle that escaped her lips. Minato raised his gaze questioningly, and she hurried to explain herself. "It's just, I realized that half of our conversation has been us apologizing to each other and telling the other that they don't have to be sorry. I just realized how very cyclical it is."

When Minato returned her smile with a weak one of his own, Haru felt like she'd won—it was the smallest of victories, but a victory nonetheless. Still, he didn't rush to say anything else—not that she had expected him to. Decidedly, she turned back to the planters and gave Minato a patient look. "Why don't we go back to gardening? If there's anything you might want to talk about as we go, feel free to. Otherwise, just being in silence is okay with me, too. I find this whole process to be honestly very relaxing."

Slowly, Minato seemed to unwind, the tension in him visibly falling. Tentatively, he nodded and went back to the plants.

For a little while, they were cloaked in absolute silence. Occasionally, Haru would direct him to do something—she had a very particular way of caring for her plants—and he would listen without complaint. It was after a while had passed when he finally started to speak, though he didn't halt his actions.

"The amnesia itself doesn't bother me that much..." Minato began, so quiet it would've been inaudible if not for the silence they'd already been in. Haru listened attentively, but not so attentively he'd feel self-conscious. She opted to stay silent for now; Minato hadn't had a chance to lead any conversations about his amnesia, as far as she knew. She wanted to encourage him to speak his own thoughts on the situation.

"I don't really mind not remembering stuff like my childhood or my parents or the school I went to." He gingerly tended to the plants, patting Haru's new special fertilizer around the soil. "I don't really think I cared about that stuff even when I could remember them." His expression shadowed slightly, though his eyes remained in that same almost-apathetic look. "I feel like that stuff probably wasn't all that pleasant for me. Thinking about missing those memories doesn't really matter to me much."

And then his eyes narrowed, a sure sign of tension. "...It's the people... Not remembering the people I used to know..." Briefly, his hands stilled their ministrations. "I feel like I used to know a lot of people, or maybe even just a few... The number isn't really important... But I feel like the people I knew were really important to me.

"The name of that boy you guys told me...I feel like he might have been important, too... But I just can't remember anything about him—and it's so frustrating." Minato's fists clenched, and when Haru looked at his expression, it was tight. "It's like one big gaping hole in me..."

All at once, seeing that agony in his face, Haru made her decision.

Now that Minato was calmer, Haru took the time to pull out her phone, typing into her Google search bar. She opened up the article Futaba had shown them earlier, scrolling until she reached the picture of Aragaki Shinjiro.

Haru had the feeling that the other Thieves wished to avoid the topic of Aragaki with Minato due to the tragic circumstances surrounding him, along with Minato's own reaction to the boy's name.

Haru, however, did not agree with that sentiment.

She did agree that Minato had started to become overwhelmed, and needed some time to calm down, but she did not believe giving up on this thread was the right choice. After all, Minato would likely be plagued by thoughts of who Aragaki Shinjiro was until either he finally remembered or drove himself crazy. The Thieves hadn't shown him a picture of Aragaki, and Haru wanted to exhaust that possible avenue before declaring the mystery unsolvable.

Smoothly, Haru got Minato's attention. "Minato-kun, may I show you something?" Her voice was gentle, but determined.

Minato side-eyed her, but eventually nodded.

"It is the picture of Aragaki Shinjiro," she explained without prompting, watching as Minato's eyes widened minutely and his breathing quickened. "I want you to see it, as it may spark memories for you. However, I must warn you that these memories may be painful, if you did indeed know him. Aragaki unfortunately died, and the circumstances around his death were not peaceful."

Minato's attention was riveted onto her. He did not seem remotely deterred.

"I believe the others are afraid of the possible consequences of showing you his picture, but I would not be able to forgive myself if it was the key to unlocking your memories. So, here. I will be here if it overwhelms you, so please don't hesitate to rely on me." Having said her part, she gently passed the phone to him, hovering in her warm grip of his hands for a moment before letting go.

The moment his eyes set upon the photo, Haru knew she had done the right thing. It was not a pleasant expression that Minato had, far from it, but it was also not an empty one. The recognition was clear and strong, unlike his fitful memory in Akira's room.

Yes, the memory was certainly not a kind one, but it was a memory nonetheless.

"...Shinji..." Minato breathed softly, almost trancelike. "...How could I forget...?"

"Did you know him?" Haru asked equally softly, keeping her tones gentle, noting the use of a nickname for Aragaki.

Minato shakily nodded. "Definitely...I don't remember how, but I knew him." He placed a dirt-covered hand on his head, though his grip remained loose, more of a steadying hand than anything. "...He was shot..."

Haru honed in on that, gaze sharpening. However, she made sure to keep it out of her voice. "Yes, he was. Do you remember that?"

Minato seemed distant, almost like he was somewhere else. "He was shot... He was shot right in front of us..."

If Haru was interested before, now her attention was fully gripped. Minato was there? And who was 'us'?

She gave voice to her question. "Who do you mean by 'us'?"

He shook his head, slowly, as if moving through sludge. "I-I don't know...I can't remember..." He sounded disappointed, and perhaps a little disturbed.

Haru frowned, then gave him more information, hoping it might spark more memories. "Aragaki-kun was shot in a gang conflict," she informed him gently.

She was about to say more when Minato's head shot up, eye narrowed. "Not true."

Haru was taken aback. "I'm sorry?"

"It wasn't a gang. They shot him."

Haru was already asking her question, even though she fully expected the answer already. "Who is 'they'?"

Minato delivered on her expectation. "Can't remember..." he said, grinding his teeth. "But it wasn't a gang. Can almost remember their faces...but it's all still too fuzzy."

"I see," Haru replied, calm and measured. She hoped her attitude rubbed off on Minato. Internally, though, she was sorrowful. It hurt her to know that Aragaki had been someone close to Minato, and that he had been killed that way in front of him.

"Don't push yourself," she added, wanting to avoid a repeat of the attic. "It would be bad to work yourself up again." She kept her voice kind, trying to stay inoffensive.

Luckily, Minato did not put up a fight against her words. "Y-You're right... I-I should probably just let it go..."

"For now," Haru corrected. It felt wrong to lock him off completely from something that was clearly so important to him. At his surprised look, she clarified. "There's no need to give up on your memories completely. But we need to take things slowly and carefully, alright? You don't need to do things all on your own." She offered him a reassuring smile. "Now that we know that your memories might return upon seeing people you knew, maybe it's possible we can use the same method to retrieve other memories. Right?"

Minato blinked, slow and surprised, as if the thought hadn't even crossed his mind. "...Right." He nodded, a little more sure of himself. "You're right."

Okay, that was one thing down. Unfortunately, though, there was one other elephant in the room:

Minato was supposed to be dead, and the boy himself didn't even know.

Haru knew that she couldn't tell him yet. It would be too much at once—she somehow knew that with all of her being. She didn't like to keep secrets from people—it was basically another form of lying—but this was for Minato's sake, and probably something that she should discuss with the others. Perhaps it would be a good idea to take it to Boss...?

Well, whatever the case, she didn't think it would be wise to bring it up now. Minato already had plenty to think about regarding Aragaki's death and his link to him. Minato had had an extremely emotional day, something that he very likely wasn't used to, if the way he seemed to bottle his emotions was any indication. It would probably backfire if she tried to tell him that on top of everything else that had occurred—finding out his true name and identity, bringing up memories of someone he once knew who was also dead, his emotional breakdown—it would likely have negative consequences.

Alright, she would consult the other Thieves, and possibly Boss once she was able to. They had a lot on their plate now that they'd figured out Minato's identity, and plenty to talk about.

"Thank you, Okumura-san." Minato's voice broke her out of her thoughts.

Haru lightly tilted her head, curls bouncing with the movement. "For what, Minato-kun?"

"For showing me the photo of Shinjiro." His gaze was determined and steely. "I won't let myself forget again."

Haru nodded daintily. "Of course. It was the painful choice, but I knew it was the right one. Sometimes the truth is painful, but I find I much prefer a painful truth to an ignorant lie."

Minato nodded. "Yes, I...I feel exactly the same. There's no meaning to a pleasant life that's a lie." And was it Haru's imagination, or was there an unordinary amount of conviction in those words?

She didn't get much time to think on it, though, as Minato continued almost immediately. His gaze was focused on the sky behind Haru, eyes wide. "Ah— It's gotten late."

Haru's own mouth opened in surprise. She glanced around the sky and saw that evening had settled in comfortably, the setting sun painting the surroundings in vivid oranges and pastel pinks. "Oh! So it has." She pulled out her phone and went to the Thief group chat, only to find it empty. Ah, but she had two brief texts from Akira.

Akira: Everybody went home already. I'll fill you in when you come back tho.

Akira: good luck.

They were from shortly after she'd chased after Minato. Hours had passed since then.

Raising her focus from the phone screen to Minato, she smiled apologetically. "I didn't realize how much time had passed. We should probably hurry back to Leblanc." Without waiting for a response, she stood up, taking off her gloves and dusting off her clothing—a movement driven more by habit than anything else. At her side, Minato followed suit.

In silence yet again, they headed back the way they'd come.

This time, though, the quiet was comfortable.

——

After arriving back at Leblanc, two parties instantly formed. Boss started to tend to Minato, worrying over him and feeding him coffee and curry practically the moment he walked through the door. Morgana quietly sat on a barstool to Minato's right, not speaking a word. Meanwhile, Akira pulled Haru back out of Leblanc almost instantly, separating them from the others. His expression was unusually serious.

"Akira?" she murmured questioningly.

He stopped them just outside of the store, turning back to face her. His expression was apologetic. "Sorry about ambushing you the second you walked in. I just wanted to talk in private."

She tilted her head. "Minato-kun doesn't seem like he minds when we talk in the attic, though."

Akira tapped his foot against the ground absently. "Yeah, but I didn't want him overhearing this. He's kinda been through it today."

"Is something the matter?" Though she wasn't exactly worried enough for her heart to jump into her throat, she also was a little disconcerted by the unreadable edge to Akira's expression.

Her comment seemed to snap him out of it, though; he blinked at her, gray eyes wide behind his glasses. "What? No, no, nothing like that. Sorry if I gave you that impression." Mellowing out, Akira continued in a more collected fashion. "No, I just wanted to fill you in on what we talked about while you were gone."

Carefully, Haru nodded. "First, though. I do want to let you know that I showed Minato a photo of Aragaki Shinjiro. He recognized him, and it seemed to spark some of his memories."

Akira's expression was mixed, torn between thoughtfulness and something else, something vague and difficult for Haru to interpret. "I see... Well, that's good to know. I'll relay it to the others. That way you don't have to worry about it."

She was having trouble reading Akira's mood right then, so her next words were tentative. "Are you worried about my decision?"

Startled, he broke out of the strange mood he had slipped into. "No, I think you were probably right. We shouldn't keep that sort of thing secret from him if it might help get him memories back." Then, it was Akira's turn to be flighty. "Did you also...?"

Hurriedly, she shook her head. "I thought that I should ask everyone else before telling him something so important. Plus, I didn't think it would be wise after the day he had."

Relieved, Akira nodded. "Yeah, I would agree. Anyways, back to what we discussed while you were gone..." He relayed the general gist of it, and Haru listened carefully, only growing more and more concerned as he continued.

"The twins warned you?" She couldn't keep herself from frowning. "We probably shouldn't ignore their warning, but I don't think we should hurry to jump into any sort of rash action prematurely. We don't understand the whole situation yet."

"That's what I think, too," Akira agreed quickly. "But the others are kind of split fifty-fifty on it."

She raised hand to her lips, humming in thought. "I see. I suppose that isn't all that surprising."

"There's one more thing," Akira added, after a moment too long had passed in silence. "We were discussing the possibility of taking Minato into the Metaverse. We held a vote on it while you were gone."

A deeper frown crossed her features. "What did the others say?"

Akira gave her an apologetic grin. "Sorry, don't wanna skew your opinion. Tell me what you think first."

Sighing, Haru couldn't help the slightly exasperated smile from gracing her lips. "I see. Well... If it were up to me..." She fixed Akira with a hard look, all determination and fire. "Then I am in full support of it. After what you've told me, and what we've know of Minato, I think it's one of our best bets."

When Akira addressed her next, it was warm. "That's what I thought you'd say. It was unanimously in favor among the others, but I said I'd ask you personally to make sure we were all in full agreement."

It didn't surprise her that everyone had agreed. At this point, they were all rather invested in Minato and his situation.

"Did you start discussing when?"

Akira shifted on his feet. "Hmm. Well, I was thinking maybe tomorrow. Personally, I want to do it as soon as possible. Do you think that would work?"

"Tomorrow is a bit soon..." she murmured, thinking back on Minato's vulnerability and emotional instability today. "I don't know if that would be smart."

Surprisingly, Akira seemed rather adamant, and not in the usual leaderly way of his. In fact, if Haru didn't know better, she'd think he was being actively impulsive. "I know, but I want to. We can check in on his status tomorrow and see if he's up for it? In fact, I'll do it myself. Someone's gotta keep him company during the day anyways."

Haru's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Akira, we have school tomorrow."

He shrugged languidly, the perfect picture of feline grace. "Eh, I can pull some strings."

She frowned deeper. "You're going to skip?"

Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck, dropping the devilish attitude he'd started to acquire. "It's just for a day, alright? Don't grill me too hard, I've got Makoto for that."

They held each other's gaze, each of them unflinching.

After a moment, she let out a heavy sigh. "...Alright. I won't discourage you. But Mako-chan will chew you out."

Akira gave a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Don't think I don't know it."

Chapter Text

Akira stretched his arms out with a languid yawn. Blearily, he blinked sleep out of his eyes and absently rose up from his bed, noting distantly that Minato wasn't around; probably downstairs in the café. Knowing him, he'd probably gone down there ages ago, not wanting to bother Akira when he was still asleep. Stifling another yawn, Akira began to go through his morning routine without thought. There was currently too much whirring beneath the surface of his mind.

He needed to get Minato into the Metaverse. He felt that with a strong intuition, one that was sunken deep into his bones. Bringing Minato into the Metaverse would yield them answers, and Akira knew that with instinctive certainty. If they wanted to chase any thread regarding Minato, this was their last and most promising one.

But Minato was in a fragile state. Akira knew that, and he knew that trying to push him into the Metaverse in such a state was bordering on cruel.

And yet...

Akira didn't know how he knew, but he knew that he needed to do this. Maybe it was the twins' words, maybe it was the strange aura that Minato seem to exude, or maybe it was the mystery that enveloped Minato's entire existence. Regardless of the cause, Akira knew what he had to do. The problem would be convincing the others.

"What are you stewing over there about?" Akira glanced toward where Morgana sat on his desk, grooming his paws daintily. He paused in wiping his face to fix Akira with a purposeful ice-blue stare.

Akira sighed and shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Trying to think of how to convince the others to take Minato into the Metaverse today."

Morgana's reaction was immediate and unsurprising. "Today?!" he squawked. Fur smoothing, his voice lowered. "Akira, are you really sure about that?"

Well, that was actually a slightly more promising turn than he'd expected.

Though his stomach turned a little with some small wisp of doubt, he nodded quietly. "Yeah. I think we should do it."

Morgana frowned at him, almost seeming disappointed. "What's with you? This is really rash. I'd expect something like this from Ryuji, not you," he added, though it lacked any heat.

Pensively, Akira twisted a lock of his bangs between his fingers, trying to drive away any uncertainty. "I think Minato can handle it. Haru helped calm him down yesterday."

Morgana shook his head. "I don't think that was just for you to work him up again the next day."

A little twinge of guilt sprung up. Akira couldn't stop himself from tugging a little harder on his hair. "I know that... And I don't want to undo Haru's work..." He forced his fingers to relax and dropped his arm back to his side, trying to hide his agitation. "I think that this is what we need to do to find out more about Minato."

Morgana heaved a tired sigh. "I'm not arguing with you there. The Metaverse is probably the key to all of this..." He looked up at Akira, troubled.

Before he could add anything else, Akira jumped in. "I know. I know you're worried about messing something up." He took a breath. "I am, too," he admitted. "But the twins' words, and the door..."

Morgana's expression finally softened. "...Yeah." He looked down at his paws for a long moment, then met Akira's eyes again, gaze glinting with determination. "To be honest, Akira, I agree with you. I feel like the faster we can get Minato into the Metaverse, the better. I can't explain it, but I know we have to do it."

Relief flooded through him. "Thank you, Morgana."

Morgana huffed a laugh and shook his head. "I still think this is really rash. ...But I understand." He raised his eyes, and Akira could see that they were clear and unhesitant. "I'm with you. Whatever you decide."

"I'll get you some fatty tuna when I go out today," he promised, rubbing Morgana's head affectionately.

Morgana showed how pleased he was by this promise by not even protesting the pets, actually nudging into Akira's hand. "You'd better!"

Akira chuckled. He could always count on Morgana to have his back.

——

"Kid, your grades better not drop because of this," was the first thing that Sojiro said when Akira entered the café, though there wasn't any heat behind it and he was already setting a plate of curry down on the counter. Akira took a seat without fanfare, noting that Minato was two seats down, eating his own curry. Guess he hadn't woken up too much later than him after all. That, or Minato got sick of waiting all alone upstairs.

"C'mon, Boss," Akira smirked at him, chomping on a spoonful of curry-smothered rice. "Don't you trust me?"

Boss huffed and chuckled, but didn't say anything. The three of them settled into a comfortable silence. With no customers yet, things were quiet but still personable, with just the right amount of familiarity in the air putting everyone at ease. The TV lent some white noise, a low drone in the background that added to the cozy atmosphere.

Somewhat unwillingly, Akira broke the silence. He couldn't put off what he wanted to say forever.

...Or so he thought, but to his immense surprise, Minato was the one who broke the silence, his voice managing to grab Akira's attention easily despite its low volume.

"You're skipping school?" The tone of his voice was inscrutable, something that Akira rarely struggled with. It was a bit off-putting, the fact that he couldn't read him. It didn't help that Minato kept his head down, face still pointed at his plate.

Akira stumbled over how to respond for a long moment, before finally settling on something reassuring. "It's not a big deal," he said dismissively. "My grades are good already, and between you and me they'd be better if I wasn't trying to keep my head down." It didn't seem to have quite the intended effect, though, since Minato stayed silent, an unreadable look on his face.

"Because of your criminal record?" he finally asked.

Akira couldn't stop his easy smile from tightening into something undeniably tense, his hand finding his bangs and twisting them with his fingers. "...Yeah." He knew his tone just screamed of discomfort and 'leave me alone', but he couldn't make himself take on his usual unaffected self. How did Minato even know about his record?

Apparently that unspoken question must've shown on his face, because Minato quietly elaborated. "Ryuji told me about it. That you were falsely charged."

Akira fought against his first reaction, which was to be annoyed, or even a little bit angry. Ryuji didn't mean any harm, and he knew that with full confidence. It wasn't Ryuji's fault that Akira wasn't completely comfortable with people learning about his record. Ryuji was a person who was much more comfortable with his baggage, so he really shouldn't be surprised that he wouldn't think twice about telling Minato about Akira's history.

But still... It rubbed him the wrong way. Akira still didn't trust Minato enough to tell him that, but the choice had been taken away from him.

Breathe, Akira, he told himself. It's not that big of a deal. I'm sure Minato doesn't even care.

After calming himself down a little, he tried to channel some of Joker's confidence. "Yeah, it's true. Having a record kind of draws a lot of bad attention to me, so I try to keep my head down whenever I can." He was proud of how his voice seemed loose and comfortable.

There was another long pause, this one thoughtful. Minato seemed to do that often—pausing and getting lost in his thoughts. Akira had trouble even imagining what he was thinking about. Oddly, the twins' warning flitted through his mind again, but he brushed it off.

"...You seem like you're doing okay despite it," Minato commented, and Akira had to take a moment to process his words—when he did, he didn't bother hiding his surprise. It was a sentiment he hadn't heard yet; whenever he told this story, he usually got reactions that tended more toward sympathy or righteous anger.

"Uh, yeah," Akira agreed. "Things have actually been pretty good." Getting sent to Tokyo was the best thing that ever happened to me, he didn't say.

Minato nodded, and Akira had the strangest feeling that he was responding to the thoughts he hadn't given voice to. "Everybody seems to care about you a lot."

Akira chuckled awkwardly. Minato hadn't even met half the people he knew in Tokyo, and he'd still come to that conclusion. "They're good people."

"So are you, kid," Sojiro said, surprising Akira. In all honesty, he'd forgotten that Sojiro was there and listening in. When he met Boss's eyes, they were serious and leveled on his own gaze. "That's why everybody's so fond of you. You've earned their trust."

Again, Akira just chuckled dismissively and spouted off something vague.

He didn't notice Minato's gaze on him, heavy and swimming with complex thoughts.

——

The two of them finished their breakfast in relative silence after that, some small talk passing between Sojiro and Akira, but not much of consequence. Once their plates were gathered and washed, Akira gathered up his bag and turned to Minato purposefully.

"I was gonna head out into Tokyo today. Did you want to come along and check out some more of the city?" Even though his tone was completely neutral, Akira had a strong suspicion that Minato wouldn't view refusing as an option.

Unsurprisingly, the boy nodded. "I'll get my coat," he murmured quietly, stepping upstairs.

Sojiro spoke the moment Minato was fully upstairs, turning to Akira with a deep frown on his face. "What's got you so on edge around him?"

Akira returned his frown. "What do you mean?"

Sojiro huffed and crossed his arms, all no-nonsense. "Kid, you think I can't tell the difference by now? Usually you're the perfect picture of friendliness. You were able to coax Futaba out of her room and create a whole web of contacts in the city. Yet with this kid you're almost guarded." Sojiro's gaze grew a little more intense, and he cocked a severe eyebrow. "Did he do something?"

Hurriedly, Akira shook his head. "No, Boss, nothing like that." He glanced at the stairs, a bit worried about talking behind Minato's back like this. He kept his voice low when responding. "I've just had a lot on my mind the past few days. I hadn't even noticed I was doing it." That wasn't even fully a lie—just a half-truth. He had found it difficult to let down his guard around Minato due to his unreadable nature and the twins' warning about him, but he hadn't meant to be obvious about it. He hadn't even realized he was behaving much differently.

Sojiro grunted, looking like he didn't believe a word, but Minato's footsteps down the stairs kept him silent. Minato entered the café in his gray peacoat, his red headphones around his neck now. Akira hadn't even noticed he hadn't been wearing them earlier.

Akira took the opportunity to bid Sojiro goodbye—which was really cheeky, but since when did he care about that kind of thing. "Anyway, see ya later, Boss!"

Sojiro rolled his eyes and huffed, but still cracked a smile. "See you two later. Have fun."

Akira was ready to leave after that, but Minato wasn't following. He glanced back and caught the tail end of Minato giving a small bow to Sojiro. "Thank you, Sakura-san," he said in a small voice.

Sojiro sighed, though it wasn't without fondness. "Just call me Boss, kid. All this politeness tires me out."

Minato visibly struggled with himself for a little while. Then he ducked his head, replying in a voice so small it was almost inaudible. "...Thank you, Boss."

Sojiro gave Minato a reassuring smile. His patience reminded Akira of how he treated Futaba. "Don't mention it, kid."

Once more, Akira said goodbye to Sojiro and led Minato out of the shop, the bell tinkling happily behind them. He started to lead him through the alleyway toward the train station, but barely went a minute before stopping in his tracks as a thought struck him.

"Actually, before we go anywhere else, how about we take a quick pit stop?" Akira glanced back over his shoulder at Minato, who, unsurprisingly, shrugged agreeably. "I've got this friend in the area, Takemi, and she's actually a doctor. Maybe she might know something about your amnesia." Akira thought it was a serious long shot, but he probably also should've thought to bring Minato to Takemi a while ago, so...better late than never.

Minato nodded silently. Akira took that as his cue to lead the way. He resumed his walk with a little bit more purpose, winding through the few turns to get to Takemi's clinic. He pushed open the door with familiarity, exchanging a quick greeting with Takemi at the window before checking to see if Minato was following. Akira frowned when he saw the other boy paused in the doorway, a distantly uncomfortable look on his face.

Akira gave him an encouraging nod and a wave. "Come on in. I come here all the time, so you don't have to worry about being out of place."

Behind the counter, Takemi let out a long-suffering sigh, though Akira knew from experience it was all good-natured. "Who have you brought for me this time, guinea pig?"

Akira nodded toward the other boy. "That's Minato. Minato, this is Takemi. She's a seriously amazing doctor. She helps me out all the time."

"Suck up," Takemi commented, but her lips were quirked into a small smile. Her smile was still on her face as she rested her cheek on her palm casually. "So? What can I do for you today, guinea pig?"

A little awkwardly, Akira cleared his throat. "Um. See, that's the thing. Minato actually has amnesia."

The way Takemi's easy grin immediately slid off her features sent Akira's heart to his feet. Instead, her expression was sharper, more direct. "Amnesia, huh? How bad?"

Akira wasn't really sure how to rate the severity of amnesia, so he settled for giving some brief details. "He couldn't remember his own name or his age. He can't remember his parents or anyone he used to know."

A small crease formed between Takemi's brows, but she seemed otherwise unperturbed. "Hm. What have the doctors said about it?"

At that, Akira couldn't help but metaphorically stumble. "...Actually, you're the first doctor we've visited."

Takemi's gaze was suddenly a thousand times sharper. "How long?"

"We've only known him since Wednesday."

Takemi gave him an uncomfortably long look, and when she spoke he could tell it was no longer quite so friendly. "So you're telling me you've had an amnesiac in your care for a week and you're only now bringing him to a doctor?"

Akira winced under the bite in her tone. "Takemi, it's not like that. Plus, it's only been five days..." he offered weakly.

She stared, nonplussed. "That's not the issue."

Akira lowered his voice, and his next words were quick. "Let's just say, I think it may be of supernatural origin. I...I don't think there's anything you can do to fix it."

Again, Takemi stared at him for a long time. Akira resisted the temptation to fidget, but only barely. "So why are you trying to keep that a secret from him?" She jerked her head in Minato's direction.

For the second time, Akira had to stifle his wince. "It's not a secret. Just..." He forced himself into a more comfortable pose, trying to project the aura that he wasn't as anxious as he was. "We're just worried about overwhelming him. The stuff we do is kind of...a lot to take in, and he's gone through a lot lately." He did not clarify who 'we' was. There was no need.

"So, what, is he also one of you?"

Akira shook his head and tried not to let his mask break. "No, he's not, but he might be someone like us."

"You've lost me, guinea pig."

Akira gave her a small smile, even though what he really wanted to do was sigh. "Yeah, I know. It's fine. What's important is that he might be able to do the same things we do. We're not sure yet."

"Hm." Takemi's gaze lazily flitted over to Minato again, but Akira knew better than to assume she wasn't thinking about his words.

"It's kind of a lot to explain..." Akira chuckled awkwardly.

"And I don't really care to hear the details," Takemi finished, finally focusing back on him. "Fine. I'll examine him, make sure there's no physical health problems."

Akira relaxed all at once, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thanks, Takemi. Glad I can always count on you."

"Don't make this a habit," she replied, and the legitimate hard edge to her words made him wilt inside. "Regardless of the origin, amnesia is nothing to ignore. If you can't figure it out soon, you need to take him to a doctor for an examination."

"That's why I'm here," Akira supplied, fully aware of how cheeky he was being.

As expected, Takemi scoffed. "Someone with the actual equipment for this kind of thing. I can't give him a brain scan. The best I can do is do a blood panel."

"Okay," Akira agreed easily.

Takemi huffed under her breath and ignored Akira in favor of addressing Minato. "Minato-kun, go ahead and join me in the exam room. I'd like to do a routine examination to make sure you're healthy physically." She leaned back on her heels as she tucked her hands into her white coat. "Unless you don't want to, of course. This is only with your consent."

In true Minato fashion, the boy shrugged indifferently and followed behind Takemi. But...was that Akira's imagination, or were his shoulders stiff?

Frowning, he caught Minato's shoulder before he left with Takemi. The boy turned and gave him a mildly confused look, but Akira wasn't going to back down. Something about Minato's body language, his expression, told him that there was something there.

Tentatively, Akira spoke. "You know you can say no, right?"

A strange look flitted across Minato's face. Akira wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Of course," Minato finally said, and somehow that was even stranger, though Akira couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that was rubbing him the wrong way. Minato stared at him expectantly for a moment longer, and before Akira had decided whether to pursue or withdraw, he was shrugging out from under his touch and following Takemi into the exam room. The shut door echoed with finality.

Akira still couldn't shake that feeling that he'd stumbled onto something.

"Well, that was weird."

At the unexpected voice, two things happened—one: Akira nearly jumped a mile, and two: he whipped around accusingly to see who'd managed to startle him that badly. Of course, his gaze fell on his best friend and near-constant companion, Morgana.

Akira struggled to get his heartbeat under control, holding a hand over his chest as if it would help hold onto his fluttering pulse. "God, Morgana. You scared me." In fact, if he'd had been in the Metaverse he probably would've pulled out his Persona on sheer instinct.

Morgana stared at him, nonplussed. "I can see that. I don't think I've ever seen you so jumpy."

"I didn't realize you were coming today?" Akira offered, mostly as a way of asking why Morgana was here.

Luckily, it seemed Morgana had picked up on the real question. "I would've told you, if you'd actually given me a chance to!" he complained huffily. "You were in such a rush, you didn't even ask me to come!" Abruptly, his expression grew unsure. "Unless you don't want me to come along?"

"No, no! You can come!" Akira reassured him quickly. And then, apologetically, "Sorry, Morgana. I got really caught up in everything and just kind of left without you."

"It's okay," Morgana sniffed, still seeming a bit huffy. "Just don't forget me again, okay?" He accentuated the demand with a few swats at Akira's ankles.

Akira couldn't help but chuckle. "Right." In one practiced motion, he set his bag down and let Morgana hop in before taking a seat in the lobby, setting the Mona-bag on his lap.

"Anyways, that was weird. I'd just walked in, so I didn't hear all of it, but wasn't Minato acting a little strangely with Takemi?"

Grateful for the change in topic, Akira hummed thoughtfully. "I agree. He's seemed kind of tense ever since walking in, and he got a really odd expression on his face when I told him he didn't have to go through with the exam."

"Maybe he doesn't know how to say no to people?" Morgana offered, though there was no real certainty behind it.

Akira cupped his chin and threw out his own explanation, though it was just as unconfident. "Maybe he's afraid of doctors? A lot of people don't like the doctor's office."

"Really?" Morgana asked, doubt coloring his tone. "Why?"

"Um..." Akira tried to find the best way to explain it to Morgana. "Well, a lot of the times it's because people are afraid of getting shots, I think."

"Oh. Why?"

"A lot of people have a fear of needles."

"Are you afraid of needles, Akira?" Morgana blinked up at him curiously. Akira was always torn between feeling like Morgana's curiosity was both cute and sad. The more Morgana displayed how little he knew about humanity, the more obvious it became that he wasn't human.

"No," he finally answered, waving those thoughts away. "I've never been afraid of them, actually. Even as a kid I'd always just sit still whenever I had to get shots."

"Sounds like you were a brave kid," Morgana commented. Internally, Akira wished everyone else had seen it that way. His parents had briefly wondered if something was wrong with him because of his fearlessness. But then again, his parents seemed terrified of anything out of the norm.

Again, he forced himself to shake those thoughts away.

"I can't really imagine Minato being afraid of needles, though," Morgana continued, oblivious to Akira's heavy thoughts. "He's too calm. Kind of like you."

Despite himself, Akira laughed; if it was a bit rueful, Morgana didn't notice. "Yeah, something like that."

They waited the rest of the time in comfortable silence, Akira petting Morgana's back listlessly. Morgana was agreeable enough to allow it.

Both of them jumped a mile when the door to the exam room opened again, having been lulled into a sleepy state due to the long waiting period. Once Akira had calmed his rapid heart, he noticed Takemi and Minato walking through the door and into the lobby.

Takemi quickly addressed Akira. "I took a blood sample, but I won't get the results back for a little while. I'll text you and let you know, but I doubt there'll be anything unusual. His exam went very well, and he appears to be perfectly healthy." Her gaze hardened, and Akira braced himself. "But like I said, this is all very unofficial. For something mental like amnesia, I would recommend somewhere with the proper facilities to diagnose him."

"I understand, Takemi," he told her as seriously as he could. "I'll take your advice."

Takemi still seemed unconvinced, raising an eyebrow at him, but she didn't comment. She glanced down at her clipboard and flipped through it with a bored expression. "As usual, I won't charge you anything for this, guinea pig. But I expect you to repay me with the usual."

Akira grinned and loosened up. "Yeah, yeah." Finally, he looked toward Minato, standing at Takemi's side somewhat awkwardly. "Ready to head out?"

Minato pushed his hands into his pockets, glancing away. "Mm."

Akira tried not to notice Minato's listless expression and feel guilty. Instead, he gave his best Joker grin and beckoned Minato to follow him out the door. Right as they were just about through the doorway, he tossed a haphazard, "See ya, Takemi," over his shoulder.

Once they were back out on the street, he turned to Minato fully. "Do you mind if we run an errand or two today? I have some people I need to meet with."

Minato's gaze seemed to pierce into his own. "This wasn't an errand?" is what he finally said, and Akira snorted, taken by surprise.

"Kinda," he admitted. "I know a lot of people in Tokyo. I can't leave them hanging for too long. Thought maybe it'd be nice for you to check out some other areas of the city. Is that okay?"

Minato grunted agreement. Akira had the distinct feeling that Minato wouldn't actually tell him if he wanted to do this or not, even if he pushed, so he simply started to lead the way to the station. Minato fell into step at his side easily, though he remained silent.

Akira held back a sigh and a frown, somehow feeling like this was his fault.

——

They ended up taking the subway into the city, mostly in silence. The one time they spoke was when Akira clutched his bag to his chest to avoid people jostling it, and Mona popped his head out as usual, Minato frowning deeply at the cat's sudden appearance. "He decided to come along," was what he told Minato simply, and they didn't talk again. Instead, Akira murmured to Morgana a little bit while on the subway, mostly just thinking out loud.

"We should stop by Iwai's," he murmured quietly, certain that only Morgana would be able to hear it over the din of the subway. "Pick up some weapons for Minato. He can't be defenseless when we go into the Metaverse."

He glanced down at Morgana, buried in his bag and barely sticking out of the opening, his blue eyes bright. He nodded agreement. "That's a good idea. That way we don't have to lend him one of our own weapons."

Their train rattled to a stop at their station, and he ushered Minato out as he continued to talk to Morgana. "Yeah. I was thinking something simple, like a dagger. Just whatever catches his eye, I guess.

"Probably no guns, though," Akira mused, half to himself. "That might be a little too intense for him. Also a little more difficult to explain."

Morgana huffed a laugh, and then Akira pulled his back back over his shoulder, ending the conversation. He led Minato out of the station and up into Shibuya Station Square, only turning to talk to him once they were out of the bulk of the crowds. "We're gonna visit another one of my contacts real quick. He makes really realistic prop weapons."

If Minato had any questions about this, he didn't voice any of them. Instead, he just hummed. "You know some interesting people."

Akira laughed at that. "You don't even know the half of it."

At that, he started to lead the way down Central Street, trying to keep his pace slow when he noticed Minato absorbing his surroundings with deep interest. Each building they passed, Minato scanned it with intent. He especially seemed interested in the bookstore. It reminded him of his time with Hifumi and Makoto, and of exploring the bookstore in Harajuku with them.

All at once, he realized exactly what Sojiro had been talking about when it came to his attitude toward Minato. With anyone else, he would've immediately offered to take a look around the store the second they showed an interest. Yet here he was with Minato, behaving in an unapproachable and borderline aloof fashion. He had raised his guard due to the fact that he found Minato unreadable, but that had the consequence of Minato not wanting to lower his own guard.

...He seriously was an idiot, wasn't he.

Abruptly, he stopped walking and turned on his heel. Minato tensed, and how did he not see it before—the way that Minato was just as much on his guard as Akira himself was, the way that his eyes seemed shuttered and dead when Akira's friends had reported about someone so much more personable. They'd been technically living in the same room for days now, but they hadn't gotten closer at all—all because of Akira refusing to loosen up and give him a chance, consciously or not. Perhaps he'd been letting his worries dictate his behavior too much. Perhaps he'd taken the twins' warning a little bit too seriously, even if he hadn't thought so at the time.

"Hey, Minato," Akira began, trying to lose some of that distance his voice had maintained this whole time. "Did you want to check out that bookstore?"

Minato's brow creased minutely, and Akira knew he'd caught him by surprise. In fact, it made Akira feel so much more guilty over the way he'd been treating Minato thus far—like some kind of foreign entity or threat, rather than as a person. Well, he'd realized his error now. If he wanted to learn more about Minato to put his mind at ease, the way to do it wasn't by keeping him on edge; it was by easing him into relaxing and becoming more open. If he wanted Minato to be more open, he needed to earn it. Minato wasn't like Ann or Ryuji or Yusuke or any other one of the Thieves, eager for contact and friendship and quicker to trust. Minato needed someone patient, someone who would meet him halfway and then wait for him to feel ready to reciprocate.

Akira was good at that. He was extremely good at that.

It was time to stop treating Minato like someone he needed to gather intel on, and start treating him more like a friend.

Even in all the time it took Akira to sort out his thoughts, Minato still hadn't responded. But Akira could see the way he seemed ready to shrug, as if it didn't matter either way to him. It was the same response he'd always had with Akira, but the knowledge that his friends had managed to coax out Minato's true personality made Akira more willing to press, rather than simply accept the dismissal.

"Why don't we take a look inside?" he suggested, leaving little room for refusal. "There's a series I like that I need to pick up the next volume of. Hopefully they have it in stock."

Minato clearly noticed the change in Akira's tone, from something neutral to more enthused, but he didn't mention a thing. "Okay," was all he said, but Akira figured it was enough of a start. It was his own fault Minato was so guarded in the first place.

Together they headed into the store, Akira immediately beginning to look around the manga section. He really wasn't lying about the series that he liked having a new volume.

He picked up a manga with an extremely odd title, Reincarnated as the Leader of the Phantom Thieves?!, and turned it over to read the synopsis. (Truthfully, it freaked him out that there'd ever been any manga made about him, regardless of the fact that no one knew his real identity). As he browsed over the summary of an overly-glamorous life as a Thief of Hearts, he used the time to start a casual conversation with Minato. "Do you have any genres you're into in particular?"

Minato, who was standing awkwardly nearby, started. And then the dreaded shrug returned. "...I guess."

Ugh, this was going to be tougher than usual. Akira rarely had to push people into talking to him. Usually they kind of...did it all on their own, and all Akira needed to do was listen attentively. This was the first time he truly needed to pry a little bit.

"Like what?" Akira tried to sound as encouraging as possible without seeming too strange. "Personally, I'll read anything once."

Minato seemed to debate with himself for a while. Then, haltingly, he replied. "...Horror."

Akira looked Minato up and down, before responding sagely, "Yeah, I can see it." At that, Minato seemed torn between confusion and the barest hints of a smile, so Akira continued. "Anything else?"

For the first time since they'd left Leblanc, Minato's body language relaxed, his shoulders loosening and his hands finding his pockets in a movement more calm than defensive. "Tragedies. And philosophy."

Akira allowed genuine surprise to show on his face. "Philosophy, huh? Like, what, Hegel and Jung and stuff?"

Now it was Minato's turn to be surprised. It was a different look on his usually blank features. "...You know it?"

Morgana was quiet in his bag. Akira chuckled ruefully, and it seemed off-kilter in the silence. "Not really. I knew someone who liked it, though. I could never follow along that well, but I picked up a little bit here and there."

Probably sensing the strain in Akira's voice, Minato didn't ask for elaboration, choosing to continue on as normal. "I see. Personally, I think Jung's psychoanalysis of humans was very interesting. That's more psychology than philosophy, though."

Something niggled in the back of Akira's mind. Just recently...Makoto had mentioned Jungian psychology as well, when talking about the Metaverse. Part of Akira wanted to read into Minato's interest in the subject to mean he was involved in the cognitive world, but a larger part knew it couldn't be taken as any sort of evidence.

"That's...where the idea of the collective unconscious comes from, right?" Akira stated slowly, careful to make sure his voice held no accusations.

Again, Minato seemed slightly surprised. "It is. But more than that, Jungian psychology focused on unconscious facets of humans."

Akira was briefly proud of getting Minato to speak for more than two seconds, but he lost that feeling once he got the suspicion he was clamming up again. He could tell Minato was genuinely interested in the subject, so he gave him a nudge. "Unconscious facets?"

Minato shifted his hands deeper into his pockets and leaned back. "The idea of the ego and id. The Self and the shadow."

Akira's heart leapt into his throat. Those words were so eerily specific—yet he still couldn't assume Minato meant anything by it. "By Self and shadow, do you mean...?" He purposefully left it open-ended.

"The Self is the whole side of someone, unconscious and conscious. The shadow is some aspect or side of themself that a person doesn't acknowledge, so it remains in the unconscious."

"So Shadows are the bad side of humanity," Akira half-joked, knowing it'd likely fly straight over Minato's head. Inside his bag, Morgana groaned in exasperation.

Then, Minato surprised him by shaking his head. "Not necessarily. A shadow can also be unacknowledged good parts of someone. I always found that to be very interesting."

Thoughtfully, Akira cocked his head and returned the forgotten Phantom Thief manga to the shelf. "Huh. I wouldn't have thought of that."

"I've found it helps to try to see the good in things." Something in Minato's eyes seemed faraway. "It's easy to see the dark parts of humanity; you don't have to look very far. It's exhausting to engulf yourself in it all the time."

Now it was Akira's turn to refrain from prying. He could sense the raw pain under the surface, even if Minato hadn't intended it. It seemed that regardless of whether or not the boy could remember anything, some pains were deep enough that they couldn't be fully erased.

Instead, Akira kept the conversation on a more general line. "Yeah, I can understand that feeling. I think it's a really nice way to look at the world."

"But you don't see it that way." It wasn't a question.

Akira raised his eyebrows. "Not really," he gave away easily. "I don't think any of us really can. Me and my friends, I mean." He cocked his head with a smile. "Well, I guess they're actually your friends, too, now, right?"

Minutely, Minato's eyes widened for just a moment. "Ah. ...I guess so."

"...Yeah," Akira continued, "none of us have had it easy. Things have gotten better for all of us, but we're all still fighting our own demons."

"I understand," Minato said softly, gently. "Time will help."

"It heals all wounds, right?" Akira joked, shrugging lopsidedly. "I'm sure we'll get there someday."

When they fell silent again, it was much more comfortable—welcoming, even. Akira found the volume of that manga he was looking for and checked it out, and Minato ended up finding a book on gardening that he seemed suspiciously interested in, so Akira picked it up for him when they checked out. Minato thanked him in that almost painfully genuine way of his, but Akira waved him off easily.

Then they continued down the busy street, surrounded by a much more companionable air than before. Minato was quiet, but it didn't bother Akira anymore. He did make a quiet exclamation as he noticed a woman with a shiba inu walking toward them, and Akira turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

"You're a dog lover?" Akira couldn't help but grin as he spoke. It was honestly pretty shocking; he'd had Minato pegged as a cat person this whole time.

Yet, Akira found his easy smile slipping just a tad as he registered Minato's strange expression. It wasn't quite strained, but it wasn't necessarily fond, either. It was complicated, almost a little confused.

"I...might be," Minato replied with hesitation, and Akira silently kicked himself.

Right. Amnesia.

Looking to remedy his mistake, he picked up his pace a little so he could reach the young woman first. "Excuse me," he said politely, inclining his head just a little. "Is he friendly?" He directed his gaze at the dog.

Immediately, the lady lit up. "Oh, yes! Her name is Pochi."

Carefully, Akira crouched down and let Pochi sniff his hand. "Hey there, Pochi-chan~" With clear excitement, the dog sniffed and then licked his hand. Even Akira, who preferred cats over dogs, was charmed.

Luckily, the young woman was fairly outgoing, and perfectly content to ramble on about how adorable and well-trained her Pochi-chan was. After a few long moments of petting Pochi, Akira glanced back at Minato and gestured forward encouragingly.

The boy came closer obediently, but his body language screamed of uncertainty. The woman smiled at Minato encouragingly and waved him the rest of the way toward Pochi. "She's super friendly," she told Minato brightly.

Finally, Minato put out his hand and settled it on Pochi's head. He started off just patting her, and then grew more comfortable with it and began scratching behind her ears. Pochi seemed thrilled by the attention, her pink tongue lolling happily as she gazed up at Minato with expressive brown eyes.

Minato, on the other hand, never lost his almost melancholic expression. Even when a small smile crept onto his lips, it still seemed almost unbearably emotional. Akira wondered if he'd had a shiba inu in the past. It seemed likely.

Despite how conflicted he was, Minato pet Pochi for a little while longer. Akira began to worry that the girl would get impatient, but she seemed perfectly fine with letting Minato get his fill.

Eventually he rose and settled his solemn gaze on the girl. "Thank you," he said, with completely undue seriousness.

Unsurprisingly, she didn't seem to know what to do with herself after such a strange thanks. Trying to ease the awkwardness, Akira thanked her much more normally, and she took the lifeline with relief, using the moment to extract herself from the conversation and continue down the street. She waved at them as she left, and Akira returned it, overall pleased by the encounter.

Once she had turned away, Akira met Minato's gaze with his own and started to lead the way back down the street again. As much as he loved getting sidetracked, they needed to get to Iwai's soon.

Again, they walked in silence.

"...That was nice," Minato said after a while.

Akira gave him an easy smile. "Yeah."

And then it was back to silence again.

...Akira decided he really didn't mind it. In fact, it was almost relieving to be with someone who had no expectation of him whatsoever.

When they reached Untouchable, Akira was almost miffed that the silence would be destroyed. He told himself he'd have plenty of time for it later.

"We're here," Akira announced to Minato, admittedly as an afterthought. "Try not to let Iwai scare you too much, okay?"

Minato hummed, which was enough for Akira. Satisfied, he pushed open the door to Untouchable and led the other boy inside. As soon as the door was shut behind Minato, Iwai was looking up from a gun enthusiast magazine, a lollipop in his mouth and his feet up on the counter. He looked like usual—that was to say, he looked like an ex-yakuza arms dealer. Well, a fake arms dealer.

Casually, Iwai nodded at Akira. "'Sup, kid. Good to see ya again." Curiously, he inclined his head toward Minato. "Who's the other kid?"

Akira was fully prepared to begin introductions between the two of them, but Minato surprised him by butting in.

"Arisato Minato," he murmured quietly, sharp eye meeting Iwai's for a moment before he ducked his head in a brief bow. Even just that brief eye contact seemed to take a lot of effort, though; Minato's eye was already busy darting around the store, taking in the guns and blades with a curious sort of interest.

Part of Akira was fascinated. He'd never seen Minato so intense, nor so self-assured. He felt like he was seeing a different side of him. Was this what his friends had been referring to?

"Heh." Iwai's bark of laughter was definitely more amused than anything else. "I like you, kid. And any friend of Akira's is a friend of mine. Welcome in."

"Thank you," Minato said absently, walking up to the counter and peering around with interest. Very quickly beginning to feel like the follower here, Akira joined Minato at the counter wordlessly, trying to scan over the other boy's face without being obvious.

"He's different again," Morgana noted from over his shoulder, low enough for just Akira's ears. "But this time isn't the same as before. He's almost more confident. Last time he just seemed uncomfortable."

Akira hummed softly in acknowledgment, unable to truly respond around his audience.

"So, kid," Iwai began with his usual amount of breeziness, "looking for anything in particular today? It's only been a couple'a days since you were last here."

"Actually—" The sudden blare of his phone ringing stopped him in his tracks. He swallowed down the rest of his words with a quick apology and pulled out his cell to silence it.

And then he stiffened and fought to keep his expression smooth.

"Akira...?" came the small voice from his bag. Of course he couldn't hide his tension from Morgana.

"Sorry, I've gotta take this," Akira excused himself quickly. "It'll only take a minute." Not waiting to see their responses, Akira slipped out the front door, phone gripped tightly in his hand.

"Akira..." Morgana's worried voice floated up from behind him. "...What's going on?"

"Later," he promised, finger already hovering over the answer button.

"Don't bother with that." Justine's cool voice cut through the air easily, commanding attention even despite its low volume. "Caroline will be here in just a moment."

Justine's words were no lie; it took scarcely more than thirty seconds for Caroline to join them in the alleyway, but to Akira those seconds felt like years. Fidgeting uncomfortably, he grimaced internally. He already had a terrible hunch of what this was about.

Caroline reacted exactly as he supposed she would. The moment she exited the Velvet Room, she whirled on him in fury. "Inmate! You haven't heeded our warning!"

Helplessly, Akira frowned and looked away. "What was I supposed to do?"

Justine's fingernails tapped a steady rhythm against her clipboard. Somehow, it was much worse than Caroline's blatant rage. "We warned you of the danger of this unknown being, and you are here with him, completely at ease." He brows creased, ever so slightly. To Akira, it was a very strong emotion on her face. "He is not one of your friends."

Annoyed, Akira shook his head. "But is he really an enemy here? Minato hasn't shown any signs of being dangerous."

Justine's yellow eyes narrowed, and Akira immediately knew he'd given something away. "'Minato'? That is a different name than before."

Reluctantly, Akira gave some ground. "Yeah. We know his real name now. Arisato Minato." A lightbulb came on in his head. "We found him in a school record. That means he has to have been human, right?" He, of course, conveniently left out the part where the school record was from seven years ago.

Completely unshaken, Justine shook her head. "It matters not. The evidence of the Other Side on him is irrefutable."

"We still can't pinpoint exactly what he is," Caroline seethed, seemingly needing to grit out this fact. "That should be reason enough for you to be cautious!" She smacked her baton against the frame of the Velvet Room. Akira was silently glad it wasn't his knee. "And yet here you are, taking him out like he's another one of your bonds!"

With eyes all too sharp, Justine lifted her gaze to Akira's own. "Just what exactly were you doing here with him?"

Akira swallowed. "I want to take Minato back into the Metaverse." Before the twins could make any comments, he pushed on. "We're hoping it may help him regain some of his memories."

Much more frightening than an outburst, Justine remained deadly calm. "You brought him here for what reason, Inmate?"

Akira tripped and stumbled over his words, about as graceful as a car crash. "We can't take him into the Metaverse defenseless..."

"You wished to arm him."

A few steps behind Justine, Caroline only seemed to realize the implication once it was spelled out for her. "I cannot believe this!" Her fists tightened on the baton so hard Akira swore he heard her knuckles creak. "Not only did you disregard our warnings, you knowingly tried to arm him?!"

"It'll only be a dagger or something," Akira offered weakly.

Justine's stoic gaze continued to meet his own, steady. "So you still plan to go through with this idea."

"Yeah," he said, a challenge—plain and simple.

Justine fully frowned—a disturbing expression on her usually placid face. "And I assume you cannot be dissuaded from this."

Akira settled his weight on his heels and shrugged. Under the surface, it was more of a sheepish movement than a dismissive one. "I owe it to Minato to help him recover his memories. He hasn't earned my mistrust."

"Hmph!" Caroline hissed and turned up her nose at him. "So this is how you repay our kindness!"

Akira shook his head, suddenly feeling about ten years older. "I haven't forgotten what you guys said. It's just...there's no proof." Plus, Akira felt that he had a relatively accurate gut instinct, and Minato hadn't exactly set off all of his alarms. True, the boy also hadn't slid by without any sort of flag going off, but it wasn't exactly of the malicious sort, either. It was more of an underlying sense of...strangeness, which wasn't exactly all that different from what the twins had warned about.

"He's bad news," Caroline snarled, shaking her head as if trying to rid herself of the thought.

"Perhaps there is no proof yet," Justine acquiesced. "However, you will regret learning the hard way."

"Maybe," Akira admitted. "But I don't want to assume something like that. If it turns out you guys are right, we'll figure something out."

"It'll be too late by then," Caroline muttered bitterly.

With a serenity that completely juxtaposed her earlier attitude, Justine inclined her head toward Akira. "For your sake, I pray that you are correct."

"Good luck, Inmate." Caroline's expression remained tight as she retreated into the Velvet Room. If she could've slammed the door open, she would've. "At least try not to die."

Akira laughed humorlessly and watched the twins vanish into the Velvet Room. When he was squarely back in the real world, he let out a sigh. "I'll sure try," he murmured under his breath.

"Akira? What are you talking about?" Morgana sounded quite worried.

"Nothing much. Just had another chat with the twins. Nothing important."

"What did they say?" Morgana asked, only sounding more worried.

"It was about Minato again," he replied vaguely.

Though he couldn't see him, Akira could hear the frown in Morgana's words. "They were warning you again?"

"Yeah."

"Akira..." Morgana complained quietly, and Akira forced himself to be more helpful.

"It was a lot of the same. Though I sort of had to tell them about wanting to take Minato into the Metaverse. They didn't like that," he added wryly.

It made him feel bad, honestly. It wasn't that he didn't trust the twins, or even that he didn't believe them—though, the more time he spent with Minato, the more unbelievable it all seemed to become. No, it was more the fact that he wanted to believe in Minato.

Minato had interests, like philosophy and psychology and horror books, and he enjoyed petting dogs like any other teenager did. He was polite to a fault, always appreciating those around him for even the smallest acts of kindness. He showed genuine care and interest for Akira's friends, whom he'd barely just met.

And Akira just wasn't sure what to make of all that.

How was he supposed to remedy this person who so clearly seemed like a person with the idea of an otherworldly threat that the twins kept trying to push? Akira could understand the push to be cautious, but to treat Minato like a threat, just like that?

He just couldn't bring himself to do that.

He was aware that this same line of reasoning had gotten him into trouble before, with...with Akechi. Being warned time and time again, knowing that there was the possibility of threat, but ignoring it anyway and getting burned. It was an almost familiar cycle by now.

Without any real intent, Akira mused if perhaps that was why he'd had so much initial mistrust of Minato—he was subconsciously trying to protect himself from a repeat of the cycle. And here he was now, consciously throwing all of that suspicion out the window.

He didn't know if Morgana had been saying something or not; he hadn't been listening. Disregarding that, he broke in, possibly cutting off Mona in the process. "I'm really a fool, huh?"

Mona was quiet for a beat. "What do you mean?"

Akira found himself letting out that same humorless chuckle, shaking his head ruefully. "It's just...I always insist on making the same mistakes. No wonder the twins are so pissed off."

"I..." Morgana started, then stopped, then started again. "I think you're kind, letting Minato have a chance.

"I noticed, you know," Morgana added, almost like an afterthought, "how you started treating Minato better back on Central Street. That was you deciding to try trusting him, right?"

"Yeah," he agreed easily. "I realized that he didn't trust me because of the fact that I clearly didn't trust him." He shook his head, almost amused at how obvious it was now. "It was silly of me to expect him to open up when I was treating him like an enemy."

"Yeah," Morgana replied, ever one to be direct. "But you were just trying to listen to the twins, right?"

"...Yeah." Although truthfully part of him had agreed with their words, at the time, and leapt at the chance to justify his strange feeling toward Minato.

With all his whirling, complicated thoughts, Akira couldn't help but sigh.

"...Akira?" Morgana prodded gently.

Quietly, Akira regarded Morgana over his shoulder, with his clear blue gaze and calm demeanor. It was tempting to dump all of his thoughts of indecision and the stress of being a leader on Morgana, but in the end, Akira crushed it under his heel. He was the Phantom Thieves' leader. He was always supposed to know what to do. What the right choice was.

"I'm alright," he finally responded. Putting on a comforting smile, he shifted his bag on his shoulder, a way of signifying the end of the conversation. "Now, let's get back to Minato. He's probably getting lonely." Akira turned on his heel and hurried back into the store before Morgana could respond.

When he took in the sight that awaited him inside Untouchable, Akira couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in surprise. Minato, fearless, stood at the counter in front of Iwai, nodding as Iwai showed off the craftsmanship of what looked like some kind of short sword. When Akira took a step closer, he was able to identify the weapon as a gleaming rapier.

Akira watched silently as Minato outstretched a hand, running his fingers over the blade. Though the sword was fake, the boy still touched it with the carefulness befitting a real blade, as if the edges and sharp point could truly cut.

"This one's a real beauty," Iwai commented, gaze trained on the sword. "You've got a good eye, kid. Not a big demand for these types of swords."

Minato hummed in response, eyes never leaving the blade.

Slowly, Akira walked closer, feeling like a was disrupting some kind of moment. "You like swords?"

Confirming Akira's suspicion, Minato jumped at his voice, as if shaking out of a trance. When the boy glanced up to meet Akira's eyes, his expression was strangely guilty. Though perhaps Akira was simply reading him wrong.

"Hm." Minato took his hand off the sword and returned it to his pocket. Akira got the feeling he was feigning nonchalance. "It's pretty."

That lukewarm response almost prompted a huff of frustration from Akira. He was tired of Minato's guarded nature surrounding his opinions. However, he knew letting those feelings show wouldn't get him anywhere.

Instead, he said, "Is that your favorite thing in here?"

Minato shook his head. "I like them all."

...So frustrating.

"You're not going to buy him that sword, are you, Akira?" Morgana's whisper tore him from his thoughts.

He couldn't exactly respond to Morgana, so he jostled his bag a little bit, to Morgana's indignant yelp. "Iwai, I'll take that sword."

Iwai's look seemed a bit too knowing, but the man remained cool as a cucumber. "No problem, kid."

Minato, however, was much more affected. He looked at Akira with an expression that was as close to sharp as he'd seen from him. "You don't have to..."

"Nope, I want to," Akira said, shutting him down instantly. "Could use a little variety anyways."

Minato looked torn, and Akira could tell he didn't believe his excuse at all, but he kept quiet. Iwai, similarly, simply rang him up and accepted his payment easily, boxing up the replica sword and bagging it inconspicuously.

"Treat it with care," Iwai said to Minato as passed the bag to Akira. "And no waving it around at people. Though you seem like a level-headed kid." He jerked his head toward Akira. "Unlike this one."

Chuckling, Akira took the goods and waved him off. "Goodbye, Iwai. We won't be stupid. Promise."

Iwai gestured at him with his lollipop. "You better not." Akira responded with a wave, not looking over his shoulder. He heard Minato follow him closely out of the shop.

They'd barely gotten out the door when Minato stopped him, fixing Akira with a serious look. "Why did you buy that?"

Akira shrugged. "I just wanted to. It's not a big deal."

That answer did not satisfy Minato. He shook his head, frowning. "...Why?"

Sighing, Akira gave up some ground. He'd need to fill Minato in at some point, anyways, if he planned to take him into the Metaverse and have him not panic (though him panicking was hard to imagine, with how easily he'd accepted a talking cat).

"Listen, Minato..." he began seriously, noticing how quickly the other boy slipped into attentive silence. "Later today, I was hoping to take you somewhere with the others. The thing is, it's kind of dangerous. And I know that not only me, but everyone would feel better if you had something to protect yourself with. So I took you here hoping to pick you up some sort of weapon. Which one it was wasn't important. So believe me when I say that I bought it for you because I wanted to."

Minato's visible eye narrowed slightly. "Isn't it a fake?"

"It's good enough," Akira hedged. Luckily, it seemed Minato was satisfied enough to allow it to slide, as the boy fell silent.

They walked in silence for few minutes before Minato spoke up again.

"You know a lot of people here."

Akira slowed his pace, allowing Minato to catch up and walk at his side. "Yeah. You mentioned that earlier, too."

"They seem really close with you. Everyone I've met really cares about you."

Sensing that his answer from that morning—'they're good people'—wasn't enough for Minato, Akira decided to change up his approach. "Yeah. I've done a lot for them, and they've done a lot for me in return."

"Your friends, too," Minato continued, and something in his tone was almost musing. "Futaba compared me to you."

A laugh exited his lungs, completely unbidden. "Oh yeah? Wonder why that is."

"She said we're reliable."

Akira didn't bother to hide his fond smile. "Yeah, that sounds like her."

"You haven't been in Tokyo very long, right?"

Akira wanted to frown, not because of the question, but simply out of confusion. Minato was pursuing the topic with uncharacteristic fervor. "No, I haven't. I dunno if Ryuji mentioned it—" Minato nodded "—but I've only been in Tokyo for a bit less than a year."

"Where did you used to live?" Minato asked, and there was something so inviting about his tone. There was absolutely no pressure, none at all, to talk. Akira had the feeling he could brush him off and give some sort of curt answer and the boy would simply accept it and move on.

Yet something in Akira craved someone to talk to. It was strange, how he almost felt this draw toward Minato, this sense of calm stability when talking to him. It made him feel like maybe he wanted to open up to someone, to be a bit more honest than he usually would.

"I lived in a small town," Akira started softly, keeping his voice measured even as the memories threatened to make his words unsteady. Minato stayed quiet, and something in Akira pushed him to keep going. "I grew up there. I'd never even been to the big city before this."

"What was it like?" Minato asked, and Akira hummed, losing himself to a nostalgia he hadn't let himself wander into since coming to Tokyo.

"It was quiet. It was always really peaceful there, for the most part. There was a river that ran near the town, and I used to sit by it for hours. I'd just...do my homework, or listen to the sound of the water, or go fishing. There was this old man there, who taught me how. I used to visit him on Sundays, when I didn't have school."

"That sounds nice," Minato said, a small smile on his face. Akira couldn't help but return it with one of his own.

"Yeah, it was. Sometimes I'd feed the local cats the fish I caught. There were a lot of them, and they were all really tame even though they were wild. There used to be someone who fed them, before me. When he left town, I started doing it myself. ...I wonder who feeds them now. Probably some of the other kids."

Minato's next words were gentle, contemplative. "...What do you miss the most?"

Akira sighed and fell silent for a heartbeat. When he responded, it wasn't without whispers of upsetting memories. "Probably the people. Though maybe I wasn't all that close with them in the first place..."

He shook his head. "When I got arrested, word spread like wildfire. Everybody knew what I'd done, and in a small town, that's everybody you know." A rueful smile slipped onto his face, or maybe it was stapled there. "All my friends ditched me, my parents were so disappointed they didn't even speak with me for a solid week, and then to add onto everything, I couldn't walk down the street without someone I knew whispering about me."

Akira barely glanced over at Minato before continuing. "So, yeah. Coming to Tokyo was probably the best thing that happened to me. Because there was nothing waiting for me back home."

Finally, Minato's soft voice broke in, surprising him. "Talking to people helps you fill the void."

Akira turned to him, eyes wide.

Minato continued without prompt. "I understand. I think I was the same way, before. Even now. Talking with people helps me cope."

Slowly, Akira nodded, something of a crooked smile replacing his previous expression. It was more genuine, this time. "Yeah, actually. I guess I've got some kind of complex, but I like being seen as reliable. It makes me feel like maybe they wouldn't throw me away like the people back home."

Minato nodded back. "It's a little different, but I understand."

Akira turned his eyes onto the horizon, that smile still stuck on his lips. "It probably seems kinda selfish, huh? I help people and befriend them, but it's all to make me feel better. Kind of self-centered."

A ghost of a touch flitted over Akira's sleeve, and when he turned he saw Minato staring up at him, expression serious. "It doesn't matter the reason. The bonds you've made are real, and you should treasure them."

Surprised by his intensity, Akira could only barely breathe out an agreement. "...Right."

And then a familiar sound broke through his mind, clear and ringing.

Careful not to let his emotions show on his face, Akira turned his new bond over and over in his head. The Aeon? He wasn't all that familiar with that Arcana. Most other Arcana he could sort of guess at the idea behind it—Justice, Judgment, Temperance, Devil; those kinds were mostly self-explanatory.

But Aeon? It was kind of odd, not one of the ones he could guess based on the name.

...Well, he'd have to dig into it later. For now, he had Minato with him.

Turning to Minato, he stopped in place. "...Hey. What do you say to one last stop?"

——

Inokashira Park was as pleasant as usual. Bicyclists zipped along the path parallel to the central pond, and joggers enjoyed the scenery and the crisp winter air. There was also plenty of people walking, couples and otherwise. As students, they were a bit out of place, but without their uniforms on, no one spared them a second glance.

Akira breathed in the air and appreciated the bright life of the park. Inokashira Park was probably one of his favorite places in Tokyo.

"After talking about my hometown I got a little nostalgic," Akira said in explanation. "Plus, I thought you in particular might appreciate this place. You seem like you get it."

"Yeah," Minato replied simply. He was looking around, taking in the peaceful scenery. Birds chirped and a cool breeze blew. The boy closed his eyes and seemed to savor the atmosphere.

Akira could relate. In fact, he wanted to be able to just tilt his head back and appreciate the serenity. But instead, he forced himself to continue. "...I also wanted to apologize for how I treated you earlier. It wasn't right of me."

Minato hummed. "It's fine."

But Akira wouldn't accept the dismissal. He shook his head unhappily. "I'm serious. It wasn't fair for me to treat you like such an outsider. You're practically one of us now, as far as the others are concerned. And after today, I'm inclined to agree."

Minato was silent, his gaze steady. Finally he acquiesced, looking away. His visible gray eye seemed emotional. "Thank you. For apologizing. You didn't have to."

That single bit of strong emotion was enough for Akira to know he'd made the right choice. "It was the right thing to do." His words were steady.

After a beat had passed, Akira allowed himself to brighten up a bit, returning to his more suave Joker demeanor. "Now, shall we hit some food carts? I could seriously go for some snacks right about now."

When Minato smiled at him, he knew that it was real. "Sure."

Chapter Text

When Akira and Minato returned from Inokashira Park, it was close to the time when school would be getting out. They'd spent a good chunk of time there, appreciating the small slice of nature in the big city, chatting sometimes and other times saying nothing at all. On the way home, Akira had also made sure to stop by their usual sushi place to grab some fatty tuna for Morgana, something that took up its own small chunk of time.

Unsurprisingly, the moment they returned to Leblanc, Sojiro was ready to offer up curry and coffee, but Akira waved him off, figuring it was better to wait for everyone to arrive first; Sojiro would want to feed everyone anyways.

Futaba was at the counter, on her laptop as usual. Her headphones were on, and she seemed completely engrossed in what she was doing. She didn't even notice them when they entered Leblanc, merely continuing to tap away on her keyboard.

"I'm gonna be upstairs for a little while," he told Minato, who nodded.

"I'll stay down here," the other boy replied, and they parted ways.

Once Akira had put the sushi in the fridge and headed to his room, Morgana popped his head out of his bag. "Akira..."

Immediately, Akira frowned. That was Morgana's troubled tone. Still frowning, he set the Mona bag down on the table by the stairs, letting Morgana fully emerge before he moved to his desk. Unsurprisingly, Morgana followed, hopping up onto the desk to look Akira in the eye.

"Akira, all that stuff that you told Minato earlier..." Morgana's expression scrunched up, and he looked up at Akira with a look somewhere between lost and hurt. "Why haven't you told any of us?"

Unsure of how to respond, Akira rubbed the back of his neck. "You mean, the stuff about my hometown?"

"And all that stuff you said about why you always try to befriend people." Morgana sounded pained. "Do you not trust us?"

Immediately, that had Akira's heart clenching. "No, of course not," he hurriedly explained. "It just...never came up, I guess." He was aware he was being evasive, but he just couldn't help that. He was too used to being strong.

"Nobody even knew you were thinking anything like that," Morgana replied. His blue eyes seemed sad, plaintive. "Do you really think you're being selfish by making friends?"

"I mean..." Yeah, a bit. He was aware of the self-serving nature of his altruism, so of course he considered it a bit selfish. Back home, the people he knew were fewer and farther between, relationships more natural but less common. Here in Tokyo, he had somewhat gone out of his way to be indispensable. He didn't want to be cast aside like the people from his hometown did to him.

Apparently his silence went on for too long. Morgana placed his paws over where Akira's hand rested against his desk, staring into his dark gray eyes purposefully. "Akira... None of us would ever think of you as being selfish for being kind. No matter what reason we became friends, our friendship is real. Isn't that what matters?"

Giving in, Akira huffed and smiled, just a little bit. The sentiment did make him feel a little bit better. He wasn't necessarily convinced of anything, but Morgana didn't need to know that. "Thanks, Mona. You're right." He raised the hand Mona wasn't standing on and stroked the fur on the top of his head. Morgana leaned into his touch and closed his eyes, purring in contentment.

Now that the heavier part of the conversation was over, Akira pulled out his lockpick-making materials. He was running low, so he wanted to knock out making some. As he began working, Morgana struck up conversation again.

"Earlier, why did you buy Minato that sword? Weren't you just going to get him a dagger? And didn't the twins get mad at you for wanting to take him into the Metaverse to start with?"

Akira shrugged. "Yeah, but I said I also might get whatever caught his eye. The dagger was more of a last resort thing. The twins will be upset no matter what weapon I give him."

Morgana was quiet. "I guess so," he finally agreed.

They didn't speak any more after that, though Akira could tell Morgana was still stewing over what had been said earlier that day. It was too late to regret opening up, though.

Around forty-five minutes later, he heard the persistent tinkling of the front door's bell, and knew that the rest of the Thieves were back from school. Sure enough, Ryuji's boisterous voice floated up from the first floor, followed by Ann shushing him aggressively.

"We should head down now," Morgana told him, hopping off the desk and onto the floor. He glanced back to make sure Akira was following, then trotted down the stairs.

Akira sighed. Mona needed to be more careful about checking for customers before he strolled down into the café. Regardless, Akira followed him down.

"'Sup, dude!" Ryuji greeted him brightly from his seat in one of the booths. Ann sat to his left, and Ryuji made her scooch inward to make room for Akira on the edge of the seat, waving him forward. "How was today?"

"Pretty good," Akira replied with a fond smile. Ryuji was always so upbeat, it was hard not to grin around him. He slid into the booth next to the blonde. "How was school?"

Ryuji let out a long-suffering groan.

"That good, huh?"

Ryuji let out a choked snort. "Man, I've got an essay due in three days and I haven't even started."

"If you'd gotten started on it earlier, you wouldn't have to cram it in now," Makoto lectured from her seat across from them. Haru was to her right, and Yusuke to her left, perched on the end of the booth.

Ryuji groaned. "It's just so boooooring! It's so hard to focus when we could be doin' shit in the Metaverse!"

Simultaneously, everyone stiffened, then rounded on Ryuji with sharp looks.

Confused, Ryuji blinked at them. "What?"

"Minato is right there!" Ann whispered harshly to him, glaring. Her eyes flicked toward where the boy sat at the bar, engrossed in talking to Futaba.

Ryuji's eyes widened in comprehension. "...Shit. Sorry."

"It's fine," Akira dismissed. "It leads well into what I wanted to bring up, anyways."

"Oh?" Makoto focused her attention on him, as did the others, save for Futaba. Even Morgana, who hopped up onto the table, was quietly regarding Akira next words.

"I wanted to take Minato into the Metaverse today."

As expected, those words did not go over easily.

"Ya really want to do that?"

"Are you sure that that is wise?"

"He just had a breakdown yesterday! Don't you think it's too soon?"

After the first outbursts had quieted, Makoto put in her two cents. "Akira, are you sure that you aren't being impulsive?" Somehow, those words hit harder than any of the others'.

It was probably because Akira was being impulsive, and he knew it. He was acting on instinct; he was fully aware that logic was not what was driving his behavior. So of course Makoto, the most logical of them all, would object the most.

"No," he responded bluntly, almost certainly too cheeky for his own good. "But I think we should do it."

"I agree with Akira," Morgana broke in, and Akira felt a rush of appreciation for his companion. "While it is a little bit rash, it's the only thing we have left to try. Earlier, Akira and I were discussing it, and we agree that the Metaverse seems like one of the keys to Minato's identity."

"I know I'm acting on instinct," Akira conceded, looking each of his friends in the eye; he wanted them to see how serious he was. "But I really feel that this is what we have to do."

"So you decided on it after all," Haru murmured, giving him a purposeful look. Though her voice was its usual quiet volume, her rose-colored gaze was clear, decisive.

"Yeah. I'll take responsibility for whatever happens as a result."

Surprising Akira, Ryuji shook his head and frowned. "C'mon, man! Who the hell do you think we are? We ain't gonna ask you to do that! We're in this together, right?"

Ann nodded, giving Akira a blinding smile. "Right."

A bit blindsided, Akira looked to Makoto for her opinion. But she, too, simply closed her eyes and smiled. "Have a little more faith in us, Akira."

Yusuke let out a deep chuckle. "Indeed. If this is to be done, we will all bear the responsibility."

Speechless, Akira looked at each of them in turn. Sometimes he forgot how amazing they all were. They were too good for him. "Thank you, everybody."

Ann nodded, gaze steady on his own. "We trust you, Akira. And you aren't the only one who wants to solve the mystery of Minato's past. We all want to see this through."

"Exactly." Futaba's voice was unexpected, and Akira turned to where she sat at the bar. She and Minato were facing them, having stopped their conversation somewhere along the way. Smiling a little, she pushed up her glasses and said with confidence, "It's way too late to try to push us away! We're with you to the end!" Further down the bar, Minato seemed to smile a little with something like satisfaction—or perhaps it was Akira's imagination.

"Right then," Akira said, tone back to strong, channeling Joker in full force. "Let's come up with a game plan. Everyone in favor of taking Minato with us today, say I."

"I!" It was almost deafening, with all of them speaking together.

"Then it's unanimous," Akira confirmed with finality.

Ann shuffled uncomfortably and glanced at Minato. "Well..."

Alright. It was Akira's turn to step up to the plate again. "Minato, that place I told you about earlier? We're getting ready to head in. We'd really like it if you came with us, but we won't force you. It'll be dangerous. But we think it might help solve the mystery behind your memories."

At that last line, Akira swore he saw a flicker of something desperate in Minato's eyes, but it was gone as soon as it came. Steadily, Minato nodded. "I'll do it."

Makoto returned his nod with equal seriousness. "Then it's settled."

Futaba snapped her computer shut, the click resounding through the room with the finality of a gavel, and slid it to the side.

...And then she immediately broke the mood by pointing fiercely at Sojiro and yelling, "Alright, Sojiro! 20 ccs of curry, STAT!"

Sojiro shook his head, expression located firmly between baffled and fond. "Sure thing. How about the rest of you kids?"

Yusuke perked up like an excited puppy at the prospect of food. "I myself would—"

Akira cut him off before he could go into something long-winded, sending an apologetic smile towards Boss. "I'm pretty sure no one here would turn down a plate of your curry right now." He glanced toward Minato, the only person he couldn't certainly speak for.

"Never," the boy said, channeling every bit of his solemn countenance into his words. Akira bit back a snort. Oh, how he wished he could achieve that level of deadpan humor. Minato was a master of the unchanging expression.

"Alright, then," Boss chuckled, already dishing up plates of curry. "Point taken."

——

The Thieves (plus Minato) finished their curry and then mobilized, heading for their usual entrance to Mementos. Everyone was buzzing with unspoken energy, and it kept the group unusually quiet, everyone a bit too high-strung to talk about casual topics. Akira made sure to grab extra healing items—he wanted to be prepared for anything; he wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to Minato—as well as Minato's rapier.

When they reached the entrance to Mementos, everyone hesitated, hyper-aware of the momentous decision they were about to make.

"Well..." Ryuji began awkwardly. It did nothing to cut through the tense mood.

"Let's just head in," Makoto suggested, keeping it short and to the point. "We can explain once we're inside." She turned to him. "Akira?"

Akira took a deep, steadying breath, letting it out slowly. "Right." He hovered his finger over the Navigation button in the Metaverse app for a moment that stretched for eternity...

(He hoped to god they were making the right choice.)

...and then he pressed down, and the world warped, dizzying and familiar. It lasted for just a second, and then they were in Mementos.

Of course, the Thieves were in their outfits, having automatically changed over upon entering the Metaverse. Akira glanced toward Minato, only to find that he was still in his casual clothes, completely unchanged. It was only at that moment, as disappointment flooded him, that Akira realized that subconsciously he'd been almost assuming that Minato was one of them. But no, it seemed he was normal, at least on this front.

...It didn't stop Akira from feeling disappointed.

"His clothes didn't change," Ryuji noticed, sounding miffed. Apparently Akira wasn't alone in his feeling.

"Minato-kun? How are you feeling?" Haru trotted up to the boy, a concerned twist to her brow. She raised her hands, purple gloves shining bright in the darkness of Mementos as she reached out toward Minato's shoulder comfortingly.

Minato blinked at her, and then at them. "You all..."

"I know this is a lot to take in," Morgana began. In his Metaverse form, it was easy to see his sympathetic expression. "Right now, we're in a place called the Metaverse. Basically, it's a world based on cognition. Mementos—where we are now—is basically the world based on the collective unconscious. Basically, that means—"

"I understand," Minato said, uncharacteristically cutting him off. Yet judging by his calm demeanor and how he still seemed relatively unruffled, Akira believed him.

Unexpectedly, Minato turned to him, startling Akira out of his thoughts. "...Jungian psychology," he said, as if that explained everything.

"You're...taking this relatively well," Makoto began slowly, the frown that was hidden behind her mask coming out in her voice.

"This is strange," Minato responded bluntly, looking around and taking everything in. His eyes settled and remaining on Morgana for several long moments. "But I think I understand. ...Morgana?"

"Yeah, it's me," Mona said, concise but still gentle. "This is how I look here. We all look different because of our images of rebellion. Basically, it has to do with our cognition of ourselves."

Minato's brow lowered minutely, and he gave himself a once-over. "...I guess I'm me."

"Of course!" Ann exclaimed strongly. Akira wasn't sure what ran through her mind in that moment, but suddenly she was backpedaling. "Um—! And there's nothing wrong with that, of course—"

"Right." Inwardly, Akira thanked Minato for stopping her in her tracks; otherwise, he may have died from secondhand embarrassment.

"Oh!" Haru's gentle exclamation had them all turning towards her. "We should re-introduce ourselves." She pulled off her mask and smiled at Minato. "Here in the Metaverse, we go by code names. I'm Noir."

"Oh, right!" Ryuji pulled over his own mask, giving Minato a huge grin. "Name's Skull!"

Yusuke nodded serenely and pushed his mask up. "Fox."

Ann cleared her throat, clearly trying to recover from her blunder, and pushed up her own mask. "I'm Panther!"

Futaba slid her goggles back and gave Minato a reassuring smile. "Here, I'm known as Oracle. I navigate this place for everybody. Don't worry, I won't let anything eat you." Unsurprisingly, Minato did not seem to know what to do with that statement, so he simply accepted it silently.

"Mona!" Morgana said simply, waving his hand to make sure Minato noticed him.

"And I'm Queen," Makoto said, taking off her mask with a shake of her head.

Last but not least, was himself. Akira adjusted his gloves and pulled off his domino mask, looking Minato in the eye. "Joker."

After a while, Minato nodded. He somehow had the apathy—or, perhaps, was it really feigned nonchalance?—to put his hands in his pockets.

It was that action that made Akira realize that he wasn't all that sure what to do next. He'd sort of expected that bringing Minato into the Metaverse would've naturally led into something, like a resurgence of the boy's memories or a Persona or something. But no, clearly nothing had happened.

"Well," Akira said, putting his mask back on and slipping into his Joker voice. "I guess we should head in. Let's see if that door shows up now."

"Right with ya, Joker!" Futaba confirmed, her goggles already on and pulling up the digital screens of Prometheus. "Let's head in deeper and I'll keep an eye out for any strange readings."

"Right!" everyone chorused, returning their masks to their faces and double-checking their gear.

That reminded Akira...

"Here," he said to Minato, holding out his rapier. "This is yours."

Minato accepted it, turning it over in his hands. For the first time, he gripped the hilt of the sword, running his eyes over it with visible confusion. "But it's..."

"It'll work," Akira replied, leaving no room for uncertainty. "In here, there are monsters called Shadows." Quickly, he allowed himself to give Minato a quick grin. "Jungian psychology, right?" The fleeting smile slid from his face, replaced by something serious. "Anyways, that weapon will work on Shadows, but you shouldn't have to use it. We're going to protect you, alright? Just stay close."

Solemnly, Minato nodded. Yet, was Akira imagining that strange twist in his expression? Was it simply wishful thinking, that Minato understood beyond what Akira had just told him?

Shaking himself from those thoughts, he gestured toward the subway tracks of Mementos. "Mona, lead the way."

"Right." Morgana leapt onto the tracks, transforming in midair and landing on the tracks as the Monabus.

There was a long moment of silence.

"Morgana is...a car?" Minato said, confused to an almost adorable extent. Akira had never heard him so baffled.

Akira placed a hand on his shoulder. "You get used to it."

"...Right..." For once, the boy seemed legitimately speechless.

"Anyways, get in." Akira clapped him on the back, and felt just the slightest bit bad when Minato stumbled. Maybe he was more stunned than Akira had given him credit for. It was so difficult to read him. "We've got a lot of ground to cover."

——

The first Shadow they saw that didn't run—somewhere in the Adyeschach block of Mementos—had everyone apprehensive, an anticipatory energy running through the Monabus. Akira could feel everyone's wariness, yet they had a simultaneous need to prove their strength to Minato. In a way, he was one of them, and they wanted him to see what they stood for. None of them, especially not Ryuji or even Ann, could wait to show off their Persona.

Akira took a deep breath, a tense smile rising onto his features. "Is everybody ready?"

Makoto nodded from where she sat in the passenger seat. "I think so, Joker." She glanced into the rearview, catching Minato's attention through the mirror. "Minato-kun, just stay behind us; we'll keep you safe."

Haru patted Minato's hand, giving him a sweet reassuring look. "I'll stay beside you, just in case."

Minutely, Minato clenched his fists in his lap. Finally, he nodded stiffly.

"Okay," Akira decided, and he couldn't help the electrified grin that slid onto his lips. "Let's do this." He stepped on the gas and slammed into the Shadow with the Monabus, and combat was initiated.

The Thieves, having known Mona would change forms, landed on their feet, already in battle positions. Minato hadn't known, so he stumbled and nearly tripped, but Haru steadied him with a firm grip. Akira scolded himself for forgetting something so basic, but knew there was no time to regret it too much.

Turning to his enemy, he took stock of the situation. It was just a single Skadi, hovering over the fleshy floor of Mementos. It regarded him and his team with an unbothered, unemotional expression on its shadowy face.

"Fox, Skull, Mona, on the front lines," Akira commanded, and the three of them fell in line almost immediately. "Let's show Minato what we can do."

To his right, Ryuji grinned sharply. "Hell yeah!" Ripping off his mask in a burst of blue flame, Ryuji shouted out. "C'mon, Persona! Let's show 'em how it's done!" Seiten Taisei heeded his call, flaring into existence and slamming into the enemy with a powerful hit of its weapon. The enemy reeled but wasn't finished yet, hissing and appearing like it may retaliate.

"Allow me." Yusuke strode forward, trading off with Ryuji. With an elegant sweep of his hand, he dispelled his own mask into flame. "Persona!"

Kamu Susano-o whirled into existence, striking the Skadi in the same motion it was summoned into, not a single moment of pause. The powerful blow struck true, and the Skadi screeched and instantly reacted with a Mabufula. The party flinched and took the hit, save for Yusuke, whose Persona reflected the ice skill harmlessly. Morgana wasted no time in healing up the party, and Akira followed up the healing with an attack that he knew would finish the battle.

"Come, Arsène!" With more performative flair than was strictly necessary, he shattered his mask, Arsène emerging from the flames with an unfurling of his mighty wings. Akira pointed dramatically at the Skadi, and Arsène heeded his call, landing a critical One-shot Kill. In a spray of black blood, the Shadow dissolved into darkness. Arsène took an exaggerated bow and disappeared, Joker's domino mask reappearing over his face.

When Akira turned on his heel to face him team, smirking, they were staring at him with fond exasperation.

"Showoff," Futaba teased over the comms.

Akira chuckled and straightened his gloves. "I just can't help it." Sobering up, he searched for Minato and found him beside Noir. He seemed strangely blank, his expression emptier than Akira had expected.

He frowned. This reaction reminded him of how Minato had behaved in the very beginning, when he'd been overwhelmed by everything. Akira seriously began to wonder if Minato was really much more affected by everything than he'd let on. That, or perhaps there was even more going on in his head than Akira knew.

Akira started to apologize for laying so much on him all at once, but Haru beat him to it.

"I know it all seems like a lot," she said softly, laying her hand on his shoulder, feather-light. Minato flicked his eyes over to her face. It was better than the almost shell-shocked stare he'd had before, empty and yet full. "It was a lot for me to take in, too, when they introduced me to this world."

"I-It's not that..." Minato replied, sounding shaken, eyes just a little too wide. "It's..."

Haru frowned and cocked her head. "What is it?"

He tried again. "It's too..."

"Strange?" Haru offered.

But Minato shook his head. When he spoke again, he seemed a million miles away. "...Familiar..." he finished, eyes haunted. His eyes shifted down to the rapier in his left hand. He seemed so stunned, with an expression as if he had never seen himself before. "...Have I been here before...?" He lifted his free hand to his face, ghosting his fingers over the bridge of his nose; Akira wondered if he was thinking of their masks.

And then his mind truly caught up to the words Minato was saying. "Well..." he started.

"We did find you here," Yusuke volunteered easily, crossing his arms and looking over Minato with fresh eyes. "Perhaps it isn't so out of the question that you might recognize aspects of this place."

"But...the..." Minato's spread his fingers in front of his face, a vague mimicry of the motions they used to summon their Personas.

"Personas," Morgana offered. "Those avatars that we summon from the masks."

Slowly, Minato's hand slipped from his face, his arm falling back to his side. His gaze was still disconcertingly empty. "Persona... What are they?"

Morgana hummed thoughtfully. "Aspects of ourselves," he finally replied. "The mask we hide from the world behind."

Minato was quiet; pensive, perhaps.

Sensing he wasn't going to respond any more, Makoto sought to defuse some of the tension. "Other than the deja vu, how are you feeling, Minato-kun?" It wasn't the cleanest segue, but it did the job.

"Okay," he replied, voice duller than Akira had grown used to.

"That's good to hear," Makoto said, before giving Akira a subtle but significant look, her red eyes sharp. It took him a moment to realize what it meant.

Of course, Akira realized. Most people can't be in the Metaverse for long without feeling completely drained. Minato should be feeling tired, if he was completely normal. Akira's eyes narrowed. Maybe there's hope for him having a Persona after all.

The boy's complete lack of knowledge on Personas wasn't exactly reassuring, though. After all, with something like his name or people he used to know, simply a direct reminder had been enough to spark the memories. With Persona, he'd literally seen them be summoned and he still didn't seem to have any real recognition.

"If you begin to feel tired, let us know, okay?" Haru's earnest expression seemed too genuine for Minato to ignore. Slowly, he softened, expression returning to something a bit more emotional. He hummed and nodded.

Turning to each other, the Thieves exchanged glances. It was time to continue.

——

They completed Adeyschach and entered Sheriruth with little trouble, getting into a few more encounters with Shadows along the way. Haru, Ryuji, and sometimes Ann stayed by Minato's side at all times, ensuring that he was always perfectly safe. He still kept his weapon in his hand at all times, but he never had to use it.

After one particular battle with an Oberan and two Titania had concluded, Ann turned to Minato, taking in his tense stature and tight grip on the hilt of his sword. She blinked and tilted her head, huge pigtails bouncing with the motion. "Oh, Minato, are you a lefty? I swore you use chopsticks with your right, though..."

It was an innocent question, simply intended to make conversation—something that Ann did regularly—but Minato's reaction turned the question into something heavier.

"No..." His voice had that same rigidity it'd been holding ever since their first Shadow fight. "It just feels natural..."

Either in a move of obliviousness or an attempt to keep the atmosphere inviting, Ann powered through with a brimming smile. "Oh! So you're kind of ambidextrous! That's really cool! I'm no good at that kind of thing, except when it comes to cosmetics. I got really good at doing makeup with my left hand." She chattered on and on as if nothing was wrong, and slowly, Minato eased up. "If I didn't, I'd always have half my makeup worse than the other, and obviously that's no good. I got really good at keeping my left hand steady and stuff, but then when I tried to use chopsticks with my left, I was still just as bad!"

"I believe ambidexterity has more to it than mere muscle memory," Makoto chimed in with a small smile.

"Yeah," Ann agreed with a sigh. "I just wanted to try it out."

Morgana fought to get Ann's attention, round eyes blinking up at her. "I think you're perfect the way you are, Lady Ann!"

Ryuji sighed and shook his head in disappointment. "Dude..."

Unfortunately, Ann smiled and patted him on the head. "Aw, thanks, Mona!" Of course, the cat purred and leaned into her touch, eyes closed.

Akira rolled his eyes and looked over at Minato. "He still hasn't realized she's not interested."

Surprisingly, Minato's lips twitched into a smile. And was that a little huff of a laugh? Inwardly, Akira felt victorious; he'd finally managed to bring Minato's hackles down.

"Oh, let Mona-chan down easy, guys," Haru giggled softly as she came up on their left. "I'm sure he's realized. He just needs time."

"I'm not so sure," Akira responded gravely, though he was barely serious.

In the midst of their group, Yusuke straightened to attention and turned to stare down one of the howling halls of Mementos. "Hold on... I do believe I am hearing—"

"Chains, guys!" Futaba's urgent shriek had all of them silencing immediately, hearts caught in their throats. "There's no time to run, it's—!"

In the middle of her sentence, the Reaper rounded the corner of the hall Yusuke had turned toward. It was nearly on top of them already, and so Akira knew—

"There's no choice! Battle positions!" Akira's chest was pounding, but his voice was unwavering. He fell into a smooth crouch, dagger held tight in his red gloves.

Around him, there was no complaint. Everyone acted on well-practiced instinct, falling into position. Only Ann stayed back with Minato, everyone else rising to the front and secondary battle lines. Almost as soon as they had moved into place, the battle was initiated.

As usual, the Reaper took the first turn, charging up its magical power. Akira cursed and knew they'd need to prepare to heal.

Yusuke, Mona, and Makoto were on the front lines with him, and they each seemed to think similarly. They needed to somehow beat the Reaper, or create an opening to run; the former was hardly an option, especially with Minato with them...

"Oracle!"

"Already looking for an opening, Joker!" She hadn't needed any commands. "Just try to keep it busy!"

"Anat!" Makoto summoned the Persona in a blaze, and Akira quickly felt the buffing effects of a Marakukaja.

Yusuke did similarly, barely managing to pull off a Masukukaja before the Reaper moved into an attack.

The Reaper turned its bloodshot eye on Morgana, and Akira felt the power of its attack before it had even casted the spell. "Mona—!"

But it was too late for warnings or commands. The Reaper casted an electrifying Ziodyne that unluckily landed true, and even despite the active defense buff, the hit took down Mona in one strike. Mona screeched and collapsed, and Joker knew he was the only other person on the front lines who could revive him. Cursing, he reached inwards for a different mask, latching onto Parvati and swapping masks quickly, healing magic already welling up in his soul.

Of course, if he'd had a bit more time to think, he would've realized his own mistake. Unfortunately, though, he hadn't had a chance.

The Reaper latched onto his weakness like a shark smelling blood. It turned to him with menace, and Akira barely had a chance to regret his decision before he was hit by a Mudoon that instantly downed him. Pain flooded him, all his strength sapped in one blow. He held on, just barely, but it was much too close. They were at a strong disadvantage now.

"Joker!" Ann's voice floated toward him, and he didn't have the strength to tell her to stay back. Moments later, he felt her healing spell wash over him, curing his wounds and leaving behind naught but a small ache.

"Sorry," he hissed, swapping masks to Surt in an attempt to avoid getting downed in one hit again. "Take care of Mona."

"On it," Makoto said from his right. She pulled out a Revivadrin and ran toward Mona. "Cover me!"

"Of course," Yusuke quipped, Kamu Susano-o slashing at the Reaper and forcing it back from their downed teammate. It retaliated with an Agidyne that Yusuke barely dodged, the fur on his tail singeing in the process.

The Reaper followed up its spell by readying its long-barrel revolvers, and Akira took in a tense breath and raised his own gun. He took a shot and missed its head, instead landing a hit in its chest that it shrugged off easily.

Shit—!

No sooner had Mona been brought up that he was hit with a Riot Gun that brought the whole team to their knees. Akira's gun was knocked from his hand and skittered across the floor, far from his now-kneeling form.

Shit! Shit! Shit! We're stuck on the defensive! How are we supposed to find an opening—?!

"Guys!" Futaba screamed, distress evident in her voice. Soon after Akira felt a small bit of healing from Prometheus, but all it did was prolong their inevitable defeat. As soon as the strength flooded him, another Riot Gun from the Reaper sprawled him out again.

His whole body ached from the pain of the Reaper's attack. He struggled to rise to even just his knees. Glancing left, then right, he saw his teammates struggling in much the same way. No one was fully downed, but they were all so wounded they needed an opening to recover, and the Reaper was being relentless.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mona struggling to rally himself, and the Reaper turned a baleful eye on him. No—! He needed to buy Mona enough time to heal the team! Except, he was so drained that even dragging himself to his knees was horrifically taxing. Struggling, he barely managed to get back on his feet, Yusuke and Makoto managing to do the same, before he could feel the Reaper charging up magic again.

No! He couldn't allow that!

He redoubled his efforts, raising a sluggish hand to his mask,

but then:

A blur of movement caught Akira's eye. After a moment to process, he realized it was Minato, and he was darting towards Akira's pistol, laying on the ground uselessly. Akira didn't even have a chance to widen his eyes in surprise before Minato was raising the gun, pointing it not toward the Reaper, but himself.

And then,

There was no chance to shout out, no chance to panic, no chance for horror to flood through Akira's veins.

The sound of a gunshot echoed more muted than usual—perhaps because of Akira's heart pounding so loud in his ears—and Minato reeled but didn't fall. He lurched forward, hair draped over his face. Between the dark locks, Akira thought he saw Minato's eyes burning electric blue.

Then, the moment, one which seemed to hang in eternity, was shattered, broken by a strong voice.

"Come!"

And then Minato was lifting his head, but more importantly, there was a Persona, summoned into existence right in front of the Reaper in a swirl of blue flame and power. Chains rattled as the Persona lifted a long sword and slashed at the Reaper powerfully, growling. When the Reaper tanked the hit without a flinch, the Persona immediately began a flurry of strikes, each more vicious than the last. Its sharp jaws gave the illusion of a malicious grin, the wildness of its slashes giving it an almost feral feel. Coffins and chains alike rattled with the Persona's movements, and Akira was struck with the feeling that he was witnessing Death fighting itself.

With a loud roar, the Persona stuck with a brutal force, causing the Reaper to reel back. Impossibly, the Reaper had been placed on the defensive.

The Persona drew its arm back, and Akira could taste the power in the air. The Reaper retaliated with a Mudoon; it reflected back into the air and left an almost caustic taste in the atmosphere as the curse magic dispersed. Akira swore that the Reaper seemed apprehensive, seeing that its attack had deflected without a scratch on its enemy.

The Persona struck, the force of the blow an audible whoosh, and the Reaper barely raised one of its revolvers to block the attack. It shattered to pieces under the lethal force.

The Reaper flinched back.

The Reaper. Flinched.

Akira hadn't even thought that was possible.

The Persona surged forward, as if smelling its enemy's weakness; its rictus grin could only be described as malevolent. The Reaper attempted to shoot it with its remaining shotgun, and the Persona took the hit with scarcely a flinch. Akira watched, struck dumb, as the Persona pounced on the Reaper, throwing it to the ground. He didn't even realize what it was doing as it raised its sword, until it thrust it down in one swift motion and pinned the Reaper to the ground. The Reaper, usually so silent, rumbled some unearthly noise, in apparent agony. It writhed, pinned like an insect to a board.

The Persona, moving in a way that seemed almost unnatural, reared back, roaring. At the apex of its motion, its attack was summoned—something so strong it could be felt in the air—and the Reaper was pierced through, energy crackling in the air with the hit.

Akira felt experience rush into him, and with it he remembered to take in the breath that he'd apparently been holding. He felt numb from witnessing the whole event. Barely processing, he noticed the Persona panting from its position, sword still sheathed in the floor, before it burned away in a burst of blue flames, its job done.

Someone—probably Mona—had the sense to perform a healing spell. Silently, healed of their wounds, everyone rose fully to their feet.

"That was..." 'Close', was the word that didn't quite leave Makoto's shaky voice. It didn't need to; everyone was already thinking the same. Akira could almost believe he could hear their collective heartbeats, quick and pulsing with fading adrenaline.

It was Ann who turned directly to Minato first. "What were you thinking...?" she said in a small voice, tone wobbling between shock and fear.

Minato took a step back, angling his body in a position that could only be taken as guarded, defensive. He'd never seemed so unapproachable. "What do you mean."

Her wide blue eyes flitted to his right hand, still clutching Akira's pistol. In the low light of Mementos, her ice-blue eyes seemed to glow. "You shot yourself..." Her brows furrowed deeply, and Akira thought he saw wetness pricking at the edges of her eyes. "I nearly had a heart attack..." She shook her head, eyes intense and upset. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Inwardly, Akira was turning over and over similar thoughts of his own. How had Minato survived unharmed? He'd shot himself, point blank, in the head. It should have killed him, it should've carved straight through his head. There was no possible way it could have missed.

No possible way.

...Yet here he was. Alive.

Not to mention, that Persona... Minato had summoned a Persona...

Minato dropped his head, and at that moment, Akira realized why the boy seemed so uncharacteristically shadowed. The grit of his teeth as he grimaced, the sharpness of his visible eye said it all.

He was angry.

"What are you saying...?" Minato responded, low and unfamiliar in intensity. "I had to."

"'You had to'....?" Ann echoed, just as incredulous as before. "Minato, you seriously could've died!"

"If I hadn't, you all would've died, right?" Minato's pointed words stopped everyone in their tracks. It was so silent, if not for the background howl of Mementos, one could hear a pin drop. "So I had to."

"I'm sure we woulda found a way outta it," Ryuji bolstered ahead, though his surety sounded plastic even to his own ears. "We weren't out yet! Mona was boutta bring us all back up!"

"If that gun hadn't misfired..." Haru whispered, clutching her hands in front of her chest to hide her shaking. "Minato-kun, you'd have killed yourself."

"Misfired..." Minato echoed, looking down at the gun in his hands. Akira desperately wished to know what he was thinking, but he stayed silent.

"It didn't misfire," Makoto broke in, and when Akira turned his attention to her he saw that save for a slight haunted look in her eye, she'd recovered completely from the shock. "...It didn't misfire...did it."

"...No," Minato agreed, lowering the gun to his side. "Because it doesn't shoot bullets."

Everyone exchanged with him their own looks of confusion.

"W-What are you talking about?" Ann shook her head hard, her pigtails flowing with her. "Of course it does! Test it out yourself!" She seemed to immediately regret that statement, backpedaling quickly. "Not at yourself! At a wall or something!"

Slowly, Minato held out the gun and aimed it down the long hallway of Mementos, though he seemed a bit awkward pointing it facing outward and oh my god that was a scary thought. His finger tightened on the trigger once, and the Thieves braced themselves for the usual crack of a gunshot. But then none came. Minato clicked the trigger a few more times for good measure, and then turned to her with a tight look. "See?"

Ann took the gun from him in a burst of confusion. "What the hell? It should shoot bullets..." Curious, she pointed it down the hallway herself, pulling the trigger. The gunshot caused her to jump, having not expected it after Minato's unsuccessful attempts. Next to her, Minato cocked his head.

Bewildered, Ann took her finger off the trigger, practically tearing the gun apart with the intensity of her gaze. "What the...? It worked for me just fine..."

"O-kay, let's stop shooting guns off," Makoto said warily, taking a step forward and holding out her hand. With that same pensive face on her features, Ann slowly handed her the gun. In one motion, Makoto turned on her heel and returned to Akira, offering the pistol to him silently. Akira took it robotically, his mind a million miles away.

Was Minato really angry, or was it something else entirely...?

Quietly, he turned his gaze up, meeting Minato's shadowed eyes. "Sorry. I was careless, and put everyone into a tight position. I'm sorry we made you go through that."

It seemed he'd read Minato's emotions correctly. Akira could see the moment he relaxed, suddenly seeming akin to a puppet with cut strings. His shoulders hunched, his eye seemed far away and all too intense at the same time, his chest heaving as a single long breath left him in a sigh.

"It's...fine."

"It's not," Akira corrected immediately. "I know it's not. We were all seriously in some danger. Usually I'm more careful, but I made a mistake that could've cost us our lives. As the leader, I'm taking responsibility for it."

"Please just be more careful next time..." Minato replied, finally revealing his distress.

"Yeah," Akira agreed solemnly, hoping Minato understood the seriousness of his promise.

Catching on, Ann stepped forward, meeting Minato's eyes with a deeply apologetic expression. "He's right. I'm sorry for how I reacted. I didn't stop to consider your feelings. After seeing you shoot, I just...panicked."

"It's okay," Minato responded, much calmer now. "I understand."

"Though it was shocking in the moment, I see now that your actions were driven by the desire to protect us," Yusuke said with a solemn nod. "For that, we should be thanking you."

Minato glanced away, beginning to look a bit awkward with the attention. "I don't..."

"No need to downplay your efforts," Yusuke continued, and Akira inwardly groaned as he felt the other boy's intense energy beginning to ramp up. "Truly, the passion and pure emotion that drove—"

Morgana tromped up in front of Minato, forcibly silencing Yusuke with a new question. "Why did you believe that that gun doesn't shoot bullets?" he asked seriously, a comic juxtaposition to his cartoon-like appearance.

Minato shoved his hands in his pockets uncomfortably. "I just knew it wouldn't."

"How?" Morgana asked, just as solemnly as before. Then, in a different vein of questioning, he added, "You summoned a Persona just now. And you used that gun to do it, right? Why did you think that gun would work?"

In the background, Ann gasped. "Oh, right! I got so caught up with everything else I totally forgot about that! Good job, Mona."

Morgana ignored her. "You didn't have to awaken to your Persona, either," he added contemplatively, and though he was still addressing Minato, it seemed more as if he was thinking out loud.

"It was extremely powerful," Futaba murmured in the background, sounding simultaneously awed and tense. "Its power level was off the charts."

Perhaps those words were the elephant in the room, really. Akira was bothered by that display of strength more than he'd like to admit. It made him afraid that maybe, he'd been a bit too rash, ignoring the twins like he had.

...But maybe Akira was the odd one out, when it came to his strange feelings surrounding Minato's Persona. Or maybe he was the only one who didn't want to overlook it.

Morgana nodded thoughtfully, then looked back up to Minato. "Why did that gun summon your Persona? How did you know?"

The group could practically see Minato withdrawing. "I don't know. Can't remember. Had a feeling." His words were curt, and his expression was shuttered.

"Um, guys," Haru began gently, stepping between Morgana and Minato. "Perhaps we shouldn't push Minato-kun too hard. I doubt he acted out of any sort of memory."

"Instinct," he confirmed shortly.

"I am very concerned, if instinct is what drove you to point a gun at yourself," Makoto remarked carefully, shooting him a glance.

"Ain't you afraid to get shot?" Ryuji said, ever the absolute peak of eloquence.

Minato pondered on that, then shook his head. "A little. Not really. I was scared, but not worried."

"'Scared but not worried'?" Makoto echoed questioningly. "I...don't think I fully understand."

"I don't want to die, but I'm not afraid of dying." Minato said such a dark thing so casually, his head tilting in his usual innocence even toward something so morbid and unpleasant.

"Minato..." Ann said softly, sadly. "That's so..." She trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Sad," Ryuji finished, words oh-so-simple, yet even then they were enough to capture all of their feelings. There was nothing complicated about death, after all. That was the problem. "Man..." He shook his head, lost. "I'm terrified of dyin'. I've got so much shit I haven't done yet. And leaving behind Ma... I don't think I'll ever be ready to die, man..."

Everyone fell silent then, no doubt each thinking about everything they weren't willing to leave behind.

Minato shook his head in disagreement. "Death is inevitable," he said simply, and each Thief felt a chill at the blasé way he spoke the words.

"Jeez..." was all Ann seemed to be able to muster up. Next to her, Akira frowned, unable to keep a melancholy expression off his face.

"Such ominous words," Yusuke muttered in the background, troubled.

"Is this about your friend...?" Haru asked tentatively.

Minato hummed. "...Maybe," he said neutrally, hiding so much more in one little word, and somehow that answer was so much worse than a 'yes'.

——

They left Mementos not long after that. Honestly, the whole encounter had ruined everyone's mood, as well as given them some unsettling thoughts to mull over. Once they were back at Leblanc, they called one last meeting before they would part ways. Minato, as usual, stayed downstairs. At this point, Akira wasn’t sure if it was really necessary, but he didn’t want to push the boy any more.

In the middle of their meeting, Ann brought up a point that several of them had been wondering. "So, why did the gun not work for Minato?"

Morgana licked a paw and dragged it behind his ear before staring at each of them in turn. "The Metaverse is a world based on cognition, right?"

Ryuji nodded and leaned back in his seat. "Yeah, s'what you told us back in the beginning."

"That's right," Morgana acknowledged, continuing. "The reason our guns work in the Metaverse is because we believe them to be real, and so do the Shadows we fight. Basically, our cognition that the guns are real makes them real."

Makoto nodded, red eyes narrowed sharply. "I see. I suspected as much." It seemed she'd already reached the conclusion Mona was leading them to.

For the sake of the rest of them, he continued. "Minato didn't seem to believe that the gun shot bullets. Therefore, his cognition was that the gun wasn't really a gun."

"The hell do you mean?" Ryuji exclaimed loudly. "What else would the gun be if not a gun?"

Morgana's expression twisted into something pensive. "That's what I'm wondering, too. It seems obvious that that gun doesn't mean the same thing to Minato as it does to us. You all saw him point it at himself and shoot, but he didn't die. Instead, he summoned his Persona. So Minato might view that gun as some kind of device for summoning his Persona."

Yusuke frowned from where he sat, ramrod straight and stock-still. "A gun is an odd assumption for summoning Persona."

"Yes," Makoto agreed. "It's nothing like our own masks."

"It's rather scary," Haru said, and silently everyone agreed. "I don't think I'd be able to point a gun at myself and pull the trigger, even if someone assured me it was safe."

"I know," Ann replied solemnly. "I think it's just too ingrained in me that guns can kill."

"Minato-kun was able to do it on sheer instinct," Makoto said, brows creasing in thought. "It seems he's done it many times, in order for it to be automatic. It seems fair to assume that he's been a Persona-user for a while."

"I think that all but confirms that Minato's death and reappearance are related to the Metaverse," Akira chimed in in a low voice, and everyone silenced to hear him out. "He's a Persona-user, and a powerful one at that. There's no way his strange circumstances aren't linked to the Metaverse."

"Seconded," Futaba piped up from her usual spot on Akira's bed.

"I agree," Yusuke murmured. "Though I am still at a loss of how he ended up in such a situation."

"I don't know, either," Morgana muttered, seeming disgruntled. "I've never heard of the Metaverse bringing someone dead back to life."

"We know more, but we're still missing the big picture," Makoto said unhappily, and everyone felt her frustration as their own. "All we can do is wait and see if Minato-kun remembers anything and if Futaba can find anything out about SEES."

"I wouldn't bank on that," Futaba warned. "It's been beyond difficult to find any sort of foothold. I kinda doubt I'll get anything, but you never know."

"It's better than nothing," Akira commented seriously. "We just have to take what we can get."

"What about the twins?" Haru's gentle voice had everyone turning toward her, and she faltered for a brief moment upon being the new center of attention. "Isn't it also possible that they'll be able to figure out where Minato-kun came from?"

Akira hummed. "That is a possibility." Sheepishly, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Though they might be a bit annoyed with me right now."

Haru frowned. "Why?"

"It's not important," Akira dismissed. "What's more important is that I trust them. They'll tell me if they figure anything out about Minato."

They would be so angry... After what had happened in the Metaverse, he had a strong feeling he was in for a big 'I told you so'.

Makoto nodded with finality. "Then I suppose that's the best we can do."

Sensing an end to the meeting, everyone began to gather up their things and slowly filed downstairs. All, except for Makoto. Once she and Akira were the last people upstairs, she stopped him, grabbing his arm with a serious look.

“Akira, we should let Minato-kun recover tomorrow.”

“I know.”

Loosening her grip on his arm, her eyes fell. “He’s been through a lot lately. He could use a day to recuperate.”

Gently, Akira tugged his arm from her grip. “I agree with you. I’m still worried, too. But I think we did the right thing. Thanks to taking him into the Metaverse, we confirmed that he’s a Persona-user.”

“Yes, I know,” she began slowly, her red eyes tired. “I suppose I just wanted to confirm with you.”

“It was just a one-time thing,” he replied firmly. “I won’t be so illogical again.”

She closed her eyes and visibly relaxed. “Right.” When she opened her eyes again, they were back to strong. “I think, the day after, I would like to take Minato-kun to Iwatodai.”

The request took Akira completely by surprise. “His hometown?” Or at least, he assumed it was his hometown, since he’d gone to school there.

“Yes.” Her tone was certain, calm. “I think it’s the last possible thing we could try, at this point. According to Haru, his memories can be sparked by the right catalyst. It’s possible a familiar location could be the last push he needs.”

A little bit miffed he hadn’t thought of it himself, Akira hummed in lieu of a quick response. “That’s a really good idea.” Flashing a grin, he winked at her. “The student council president, planning to skip school? We really have converted you.”

Makoto rolled her eyes, though she wore a fond smile through it all. “I don’t think there’s any question about that.”

——

That evening, when they were alone in Akira's room, Morgana brought up the very thing Akira had been stewing over. He'd been sitting on his bed, turning it over and over in his mind.

"Akira...?" Morgana began quietly. "Are you okay? You've been kind of strange."

Akira didn't bother to hide his troubled expression from Morgana. "That Persona that Minato summoned..."

Even though he had trailed off, Morgana gave him a knowing look. "Yeah," Mona agreed, no words necessary. "It was kind of frightening."

"It doesn't feel like it suits him..." Akira worried, twisting a lock of his bangs over and over again.

Or at least...Akira hadn't thought it suited him. Had he been wrong?

"I agree," Morgana replied, and Akira was surprised by the sheer wave of relief that crashed over him at those words. "But sometimes people are different on the inside...."

"Yeah..." Akira firmly tried to keep his mind from wandering. (Zebra stripes and curling horns.) "But..."

"It's hard to believe Minato is like that," Morgana finished for him, as if reading his thoughts.

"...The twins weren't right, were they...?" Akira couldn't pretend he wasn't apprehensive.

"Akira..." Morgana began sadly, shaking his head. "You know we can't know that..."

"Yeah," Akira deflated, glancing to the side in defeat. "I just don't want to believe that he's our enemy."

Morgana frowned and didn't meet his eyes. "I..." Troubled thoughts seem to swim behind his blue eyes. "I don't either. I just don't see it. But, his amnesia..."

Abruptly, Akira was struck with the realization that Morgana was likely thinking of his own situation, not just Minato's. For his friend's sake, he cast aside his doubts. "Even with it, I think that Minato isn't the type to throw away the memories he's made with us. Right?"

"Yeah..." Morgana shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. "Yeah, you're right."

“We have no choice but to believe in him,” Akira said, as decisively as he could. “After all, he’s practically one of us by now.” There was no more room for doubt. He’d ingrained himself too deeply for anything but trust.

“Yeah,” Morgana agreed, stronger now. “He’s a Phantom Thief now, huh?” He looked up at Akira with bright eyes. “Think we should ask him and make it official?”

“Later,” Akira promised.

Satisfied, Morgana puffed up excitedly. Akira chuckled and ruffled his head, thoughts still straying, unbidden, toward a creature of jangling chains and coffins.

——

Somewhere—simultaneously close by and far away—a clock ticked a steady rhythm. With each tick, the tension in the air seemed to wind tighter, becoming thicker and thicker and harder and harder to breathe through. The darkness of the plane was encompassing and somehow alive.

Tick...tick...tick...

He was swimming in the darkness, wading through thick black sludge that left no physical traces but still managed to feel oily and heavy.

Tick...tick...tick...

Somewhere, somewhere, even though the entire empty plane was nothing but black darkness, that clock was still ticking. He felt himself getting more and more agitated with every strike of the hand, though he had no idea why. There was a feeling of forgetting something important, of something deeply, deeply important.

Time was running out.

Tick...tick...tick...

He forced his legs to move forward, though they felt leaden and resisted his command. The sludgy darkness seemed to fight back. He—He wasn't sure what he was walking toward, but he felt like he had to—

He stumbled and collapsed to his knees, barely catching himself from face-planting by bracing against his hands. He half expected to hear a splash and feel ink spreading between his fingers, but when he looked down they were untouched, simply resting against the black void. Far away, he could hear the sound of his own breaths, offensively loud in the darkness, yet shallow and quick.

The darkness seemed hungry and aggressive. It wanted to suck him in. It wanted to eat him. It wanted to hurt him.

Tick...tick...tick...

He couldn't do it... He couldn't pull himself up... The strength in his limbs was weak compared to the pull of darkness, and he could feel it gnawing into his skin, down to the bone, sapping his life away. He couldn't...

A pressure formed over each of his hands, sudden and startling, but somehow not frightening. Perhaps he was too exhausted to be frightened.

The pressure squeezed. He looked up instinctively, but saw nothing but darkness above him.

The pressure increased, and strong hands pulled him to his feet. A soft voice seemed to whisper in his ear, "Now's not the time to give in," and pushed him forward. He stumbled but didn't fall again, and when he looked up he could see a circle of light in the darkness. A faint ray of hope.

He needed to reach it. He knew he needed to.

"Hurry," that voice whispered again. "Time is running out."

Tick...tick...tick...

The reminder made the sound of the clock return tenfold, and dark anxiety resumed in him. Urgently, he forced himself toward the light, his limbs still feeling unreliable but he had enough determination to fight through it. He had to reach the light. There was something he needed to do. Something vitally important. He needed to do it—

A strange sound that could only be described as a monstrous snarl had him whipping his head to his right. Twin red eyes gleamed in the darkness, predatory and hostile, boring into his own gaze. Fear gripped him at its presence, a wild and thoughtless emotion. The sight of it set a toxic cocktail of urgency, fear, anger, and anxiety through him, a nearly overwhelming slew of emotions that he couldn't even begin to decipher.

This thing—

Tock.

With no warning, it lunged.

——

With a heaving gasp, he woke up. He swiped a hand across his forehead and it came back slick with sweat. His heart was pounding in his chest, rabbit-quick and terrified. He suppressed his panicked breaths as he became mindful of the other person sleeping in the room.

Shaking, he clenched his fists into his blanket, overwhelmed by the feeling of looming danger.

Time. Time was running out.

Chapter Text

Makoto couldn't help but feel apprehensive over their trip to Iwatodai. Of course, she'd been the one who presented it to Akira, and she still believed it to be the best possible option at their current disposal, but that didn't shake the feeling that Minato wasn't ready. It had been a very taxing week for him, surely, and that time in the Metaverse had to have been a strain on his mind. He'd summoned a Persona without warning, on total muscle memory, and even after calling it he'd seemed completely in the dark regarding the details of its origin. It'd clearly been powerful, his summoning method very practiced; everything suggested familiarity, yet even after seeing it with his own eyes, Minato's memory remained vague at best.

It was all so troubling, to say the least. The twins' warning, Minato's powerful Persona, and yet his still persistent amnesia plagued him without end. And there was still the fact that he was supposed to be dead—something that she strongly felt the others were skirting around due to discomfort. Perhaps they wanted to put it out of their minds, but Makoto simply couldn't. Such a detail seemed crucial to their investigation.

After learning of Minato's ability to summon a Persona, Makoto had looked up the article referring to his death seven years ago herself, to read it over with the benefit of new context. She wasn't sure what she was hoping she might find, but still she tried. Upon doing more research on Tatsumi Port Island, she did stumble across some interesting information:

Apathy Syndrome.

It was a curious thing, very curious indeed. People becoming so bereft of desire, of caring, that they neglected themselves. Oddly enough, a piece of it rang similar to what they did as the Phantom Thieves, when causing a change of heart. The people that they changed became repentant to an unnatural degree, even going so far as to offer to take their own life to repent. For some reason, that extreme nature drew a parallel, for her.

Perhaps she was simply making something out of nothing. Or perhaps not.

Regardless, the whole Apathy Syndrome reeked of Metaverse influence, or at the very least something unnatural. So of course, she filed the information away for later discussion.

The remaining portion of her time was spent on researching train tickets, on securing them for she and Minato, along with return tickets. She'd set the entire day aside for this excursion, assuming it would take a while. Factoring in the travel time, she'd wanted ample time to wander around the island and explore everything. Their itinerary was loose; she merely wanted to ensure they hit Gekkoukan High, everything else would be up to Minato's own discretion—though Makoto held little hope that the boy would have any strong opinions one way or the other.

After the fiasco that was Minato learning of Aragaki Shinjiro, Makoto was admittedly worried what bringing him to Gekkoukan might do to him. She wasn't completely oblivious to the fact that his mind was likely still raw and reeling from their Metaverse excursion and the revelations he'd come to with Haru. Yet on the other hand, Haru had reported he'd calmed down considerably after being exposed to Aragaki's photo, and he'd reacted calmly to remembering his own name, so perhaps everything would be fine after all.

Makoto sighed. Handling people was rather exhausting, all things considered. She hoped she wasn't too straightforward for Minato; he'd seemed to attach to Haru and Ann in particular, and both were much more adept than she was at handling delicate emotional situations.

Putting her worries on the back burner, she slipped their train tickets into her purse, bid her sister farewell, and left the house, boarding the subway bound for Yongen-Jaya. She arrived in the familiar residential area housing Leblanc at eight o'clock sharp. She'd been sure to warn Minato in advance of her plans, and he'd readily agreed. He seemed almost desperate, when it came to anything regarding his memories. It seemed that no matter her request, he'd have said yes.

The bell over Leblanc's doorway tinkled merrily as she stepped into the coffee shop, the lovely aroma of dark roast hitting her nose. Minato was already downstairs, sitting at the bar and turning toward her when she walked in. It seemed like he'd been in conversation with Sojiro, something that struck Makoto as distinctly unusual. Hopefully it would make him more stable when it came to their trip today, since Boss seemed to be quite adept at keeping him calm.

"Good morning, Niijima-san," Minato greeted her, polite and neutral. Makoto couldn't help but notice the distance with which he held her, compared to the others. It seemed her inability to connect with people was pervasive, even despite her time with Akira. It was admittedly disheartening, but she knew not to take it personally. The others had made it clear that Minato needed time to loosen up before he became more casual and open.

"Good morning, Minato-kun." She returned his greeting with equal pleasantry, adding on a small smile. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, her usual tic. "I apologize for arranging everything so early, but I wanted us to have time throughout the day."

"It's fine," he immediately replied, surprising no one. "I woke up early anyways."

Makoto couldn't help but smile. How unlike Akira.

Minato cocked his head at her. "What?"

"Oh, sorry." She slid into a seat to his right. "I just was thinking how different that is from Akira. He'd sleep in all day if we let him." Minato hummed but didn't give much else in response.

Unprompted, Sojiro set down a coffee in front of her. "Thank you, Boss," she said genuinely, gingerly lifting the cup. When she took a sip, she found it to be her preferred blend. She was too embarrassed to admit it, but it always touched her heart, the way Sojiro had taken all of them under his wing. Each time he reminded her of his hospitality, of his thoughtfulness, she felt a little more appreciation for him.

Sojiro nodded in response and settled back, crossing his arms. "So, what's the plan for you two today?"

"We're taking the train to Tatsumi Port Island," Makoto explained after another pull of her coffee.

His eyebrows shot up. "Bit far."

"It'll be a whole day affair," Makoto agreed. "Hence the early start."

"Hopefully I'll remember something," Minato added, staring intensely into his nearly-empty coffee cup. It surprised her, that he'd spoken without prompting.

"Yeah," she agreed, tone softening. While she may still be learning to be more personable, she didn't need anyone to tell her how important this was to Minato. It was clear from his behavior how much he longed for his memories to return.

"Anywhere in particular you guys are gonna go?"

"We'll be stopping by Gekkoukan High for sure." She turned to Minato, being sure to keep her expression and tone inviting. "Everything else will be up to Minato-kun." She focused back on Sojiro. "Of course, I have some ideas for places to visit as well. For example, there's Paulownia Mall, Iwatodai Station also has a lot of stores, and then there's also the local shrine..." She cut herself off with a blush as she saw the bemused look Sojiro had leveled her with.

"Well, it sounds like you've got it all figured out," he replied, with no small amusement.

Clearing her throat, Makoto couldn't help but look away. "I wanted to be sure I had some idea of the surroundings."

Sojiro clearly saw right through her, but didn't say anything, simply settling on a knowing smile. "Well, you kids have a good time." His expression grew slightly more serious as he looked to Minato. "And I hope you can remember more about your old life, kid." Minato nodded appreciatively.

That did remind Makoto of her one small issue regarding the whole trip:

Minato was, as far as the public was concerned, dead.

It threw a bit of a wrench into everything. After all, there was the distinct and not impossible worry that they'd run into someone who knew Minato, or at the very least recognized him, and trying to explain that away would be, quite frankly, impossible. Even they, as the Phantom Thieves, didn't really understand why Minato was alive and walking around, oblivious to his own death.

In fact, that was the biggest problem of all. Minato held no awareness of the whole predicament. As far as he was concerned, he was merely an amnesiac (albeit one with some interesting abilities). He had no idea of his own death, and how exactly were you supposed to explain that to someone? There was no easy way to approach the topic, and Makoto really wondered if it was necessary at all, at least for now, to tell him. He'd been under so much stress lately, part of her hoped he'd never need someone to tell him, that he'd simply remember it on his own. The thought of having to explain such a thing to someone who was so innocent filled her with dread.

So no. She had decided that as long as it didn't seem necessary, she'd put off telling him for a little longer. Eventually they'd need to tell him, she knew that, she really did.

But. Well.

One step at a time.

——

They boarded their nine o'clock train toward the island, remaining in relative silence the whole time. Makoto fought with the urge to break the awkwardness; she wasn't used to someone who didn't engage in any sort of polite small talk. After the first few times of attempting, she realized that all she was doing was making a fool of herself, and she fell silent for awhile.

As the city turned to countryside, Makoto sat quietly and stared out the window, feeling like she had all-too-much to say and yet nothing at all.

"Have you..." She couldn't help but trail off slightly as his attention fixed on her, though she found her confidence again and pressed on. "Have you begun to process everything that's happened recently?"

Minato paused, then shrugged. "Maybe," he said toward nothing in particular. His stare wasn't focused on her, his eyes still directed out the window at the streaks of green, at the peaceful countryside passing in a blur.

Makoto fought a bit harder, trying to push for something. "Your Persona..." she began, and once she did his eyes slid over to her own for just a moment before looking out again. "Does it have a name?" She couldn't help it, there was still so much niggling curiosity surrounding that Persona, that Persona which had seemed so wrathful, so merciless, so cold. So unlike the boy in front of her.

Minato was silent for a long time. He stared out the window, cheek smushed into his palm and elbow braced against his armrest.

Makoto had given up on an answer, assuming he didn't know, when he finally responded. "Thanatos."

Makoto couldn't help but perk up slightly at the victory. She'd managed to gain a little bit of knowledge, a little bit of something to work off of. "Oh, isn't that related to Greek mythology?"

Minato remained staring out the window, but she could see his brows furrow, just slightly. "I guess."

Hesitating, Makoto stopped herself from saying more. Then, carefully, she started again. "Are you okay, Minato-kun?" she said softly, without judgment, without malice. "You seem on edge." He didn't answer, though she thought she saw his fingers tighten, so she continued. "It's...it's okay if you're afraid." She wasn't sure if she was right about his feelings, but she could imagine that maybe it was the thought of returning to his hometown that frightened him. "I'll be with you the whole time. If you need someone to talk to, my ears are open."

Minato's visible eye narrowed, remained studiously looking away.

"I understand it's probably frightening," she continued, "coming back to somewhere you should recognize. It'd make me anxious too." She felt so out-of-her-depth, playing the comforting type.

When she looked back at Minato's expression, it was tight and tense. "Maybe," he replied so vaguely, low, with emotions within that were unreadable to her. "I just..." He made a frustrated noise and shut his eyes tightly. "Running out of time."

Trying for reassuring, Makoto shook her head. "It's only been a week. You have plenty of time to remember everything. There's no need to rush it."

Her words didn't have the intended effect on Minato. Instead, he opened his eyes and let out a breath, seeming to close himself off even more. "Maybe."

Internally, Makoto was kicking herself. Whatever she'd said, whatever misspoken word, had pushed Minato away from her even further. His tense mood had lasted nearly all morning, and she hadn't been successful in defusing it.

So she tried a different approach. "Why do you think you're running out of time?"

That elicited a better response. It was still nervous, still tense, still very guarded, but it was better than the vague appeasements he'd made thus far.

"There's something..." he began, tentative and dark.

When he stayed silent, Makoto prompted him again. "Something...?"

"Searching..." he finally said, words pulling from his lips that were twisted unpleasantly. When she tried to prompt him again, he gave no more response.

But she filed the information away for later. It was something, something unusual that she didn't want to completely dismiss. Not with the way they'd found Minato so unnaturally, not with the way he was so powerful, not with the way that his whole existence seemed to scream supernatural.

So she filed it away, pondered over it, as the train ride continued in silence.

——

"Next stop: Tatsumi Port Island. Next stop: Tatsumi Port Island," the level, tinny voice of the intercom droned, all even intonations and perfect cadence.

Despite herself, Makoto had found herself growing anxious, perhaps in anticipation. Part of her couldn't resist the feeling of excitement that came with the excursion. Not only had she never been to the popular city, there was also the possibility that Minato might remember who he was today. It'd be impossible to pretend she wasn't a bit nervous.

The train pulled into the station, and Makoto rose from her seat, Minato right behind her. Unnervingly, the boy had remained completely silent for the entire rest of their ride, and even now he seemed unreadable. Makoto would be lying if she said it didn't frustrate her.

She'd spent some of the time on the train ride investigating what little the boy had said. The only info she'd gained had been the name of his Persona, and that he felt a strange sense of unease, as if something was searching for him; or perhaps he'd meant that he was searching for something. Either way, the only thing she'd been able to dig into was Thanatos.

Apparently, Thanatos was the Greek personification of death. Not a true god, but not a man, either. It simply was. Honestly, there wasn't much there to really lend any insight into Minato, other than the fact that it still seemed out of character for the boy. Though he did have a disturbing view of death...

Regardless, it left Makoto feeling unsatisfied, but it couldn't be helped.

When they exited Port Island Station, Makoto couldn't help but feel as if it was something monumental, emerging into the bright sun and taking in the city square. It was clean and modern, surrounded by large flowerbeds and various stores. Despite the fact that it was afternoon on a weekday, it still had a relatively large amount of foot traffic. She supposed it wasn't that unusual—Tatsumi Port Island was a popular city, after all.

She glanced back at Minato. His unreadable gaze was panning over the square, slowly, drinking in every sight.

"Is it familiar?" Makoto tried, tentatively, unsure if broaching this was acceptable but too curious to hold back.

Minato was quiet for a while. A little bit too long. Finally, he looked at her. "Yes."

Makoto's heart jumped at that single, simple word. Yet it unnerved her, the way that Minato didn't seem the least bit excited. "You don't seem surprised at all," she offered up, fishing for some sort of elaboration.

He shuffled and stared over her, at the people walking through the central square, coming in and out of stores. "We already knew."

It took her a second to realize what he was referring to. "Well, yes, that's true," she replied, a bit off-kilter. "But it's still different to see it in person, right?"

"...I guess." Makoto hated how murky his gray eyes seemed, how inscrutable they were.

"Are you...okay, Minato-kun?" Makoto felt like she was grasping blindly. When it came to this mysterious boy, it was practically impossible to get a thread to follow in the conversation.

"I'm alright," he hedged, and Makoto knew better than to believe him. There was nothing she could do to push him into a better answer, not without seeming too forceful, so she left it alone.

"Let's...just start looking around," she suggested, hoping maybe it'd snap him out of the strange mood he'd fallen into.

"Sure..." His response was as listless as before.

With Minato following silently behind her, she led him to one of the stores at the station square. It was a small flower shop tucked away toward the back end of the square. Despite its slightly hidden nature, it had many people browsing the beautiful floral arrangements, the eye-catching flowers popping out brightly in the midday sun.

Absently, Makoto browsed over the bouquets, if only for something to do. Already, this trip hadn't gone the way she'd expected, and she was still torn about what to do in order to prevent Minato's recognition by anyone who may know him. On one end, his resurrection was unexplainable, but on the other, meeting someone who had known him would likely kickstart his memories. It made her a bit guilty, trying to hide him from his past while simultaneously working to spark his memories. It was too hypocritical.

She shook herself out of her thoughts. She was there in order to help Minato, not to keep to herself and let her mind wander.

She turned to make sure Minato was still with her and found him crouched down and admiring a bundle of beautiful, delicate blue flowers. They filled their pot fully, clearly well-loved and taken care of. It reminded her of the kind of care Haru would put into her own plants.

It was this thought of Haru that reminded her of what the girl had said, back on that first day when they'd found Minato.

"Those are hydrangeas," Makoto chimed in, voice softening unconsciously. "Back in the beginning, it was the flower that Haru suggested we nickname you after."

That seemed to succeed in breaking him out of his funk. Now his expression was twisted into something a little more gentle, a little more melancholic. "They're beautiful."

"Aren't they?" Makoto agreed quietly. "Haru always picks out the most beautiful flowers."

His eyes were distant. "It's very like her."

"You and Haru seem like you've grown close," Makoto ventured carefully. "She really helped you, didn't she?"

Minato hummed noncommittally. "She helped me remember Shinji."

How had they entered such dangerous territory so quickly? Makoto wasn't sure, and she wasn't entirely sure it would be proper to push it. And yet...this was the furthest she'd managed to get with Minato opening up.

So she pushed a little harder. "Aragaki-san was really important to you, wasn't he?"

"He...he was..." Minato's expression held pain, something old and weathered. It was an expression that didn't fit on his face at all...and yet it also suited him all too well. "We were...close. I think."

"I'm sorry," Makoto replied, not disingenuously. "I probably shouldn't have said anything."

"It's okay. I don't want to forget about him."

Makoto couldn't help but frown slightly. What exactly did he mean by that?

Apparently he noticed her expression, because his next words came unprompted by her. "If I don't think about him...it'll be like he never existed."

Makoto couldn't decide whether she should be disturbed, or saddened. Minato's view of death was truly so sad... There was so much grim acceptance, so much familiarity. Though Makoto had lost her parents, she didn't have such a...resignation for it.

"I-I think I understand," she replied quietly, stumbling slightly over the words. Her heart clenched in sympathy. Somehow this boy barely younger than herself managed to seem both so much like a child and so much like an adult. The mark of someone who'd had to grow up much too fast. "Remembering them is a natural part of grieving, I suppose."

"It's important to remember them for a little while," Minato continued, voice faraway. "Not forever. Eventually you have to move forward. But for a while." His fingers brushed over the delicate petals of a hydrangea bloom. The flowers quivered where he touched them, as his own hands shook minutely. "One day you have to move forward."

"But they'll always be in your heart," Makoto added quickly. For some reason she had the feeling that she had to break in. The mood had turned tilted, sour—dark, even.

"Maybe..."

"They will," she forced herself to choke out, something like anger, something like panic bubbling up in her. Anger for the thought of her forgetting her father's death, fear for the resigned tone Minato was using, something like inevitability, something like personal experience. It disturbed her, it couldn't do anything but disturb her, to hear him brush up to something so dark.

Was he...thinking of his own death? Did he, somewhere in his heart, know about it?

Or, more frighteningly...

Did he always have these thoughts about dying?

Did he always...think of it with such confidence?

For the first time, she wondered.

What was Minato's view for his own life? When he'd summoned his Persona, he'd claimed it was due to him not being afraid of dying, though he didn't want to die.

But was that...really true?

Abruptly horrified, Makoto found herself fixated on the thought that maybe...somehow...Minato had been involved in his own death. Really, it was leaping, it was turning molehills into mountains, it was drawing conclusions from something paper-thin.

And yet...she couldn't shake it. The thought of it. The growing feeling that maybe...she was right.

"Niijima-san?" When she glanced back down at him, he seemed to be his usual self—doe-eyed and innocent. Kind gray eyes and a quiet demeanor.

...How much of that was hiding something darker?

"You know, we'd be devastated if something happened to you. And I'm sure everyone else in your life would be, too." Her voice was hard. It shocked even herself, the conviction in the words. Yet she couldn't find any ounce of herself that didn't mean it.

He blinked up at her, taken aback by her intensity. "Niijima-san?"

"It might be something we eventually learn to live with, but death is something that never really leaves you." Her heart tightened in her chest, tears that she refused to let fall gathering in the corners of her eyes. "My father was killed during his time on the force. And while I've learned to live without him, I will never stop missing him." She met his eyes with her own fiery gaze. "So don't ever think otherwise."

He pulled his hand back from the hydrangeas, the movement almost zombie-like. Yet throughout it all, he was staring at her, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise. "O-Of course." He said it like it was obvious.

But she'd seen his hands shaking.

——

After they'd wandered around Port Island Station for a short while, admiring the flowers and wandering the various small shops surrounding the square, they moved on. Makoto's outburst with Minato had, luckily, resulted in his showing a bit more familiarity with her, and had at least knocked him out of the strange mood he'd fallen into.

Now that he wasn't so unapproachable, she suggested that they go to visit another shopping district. She wanted to kill a bit of time in order to wait for school to let out. It'd be too difficult to come to Gekkoukan High with school still in session—they'd stick out like sore thumbs. Her plan was for them to calm down and enjoy their time at the shopping district, and then head over once they'd burned a few hours.

She suggested as much to Minato, to which he easily agreed, and they boarded a quick train to Iwatodai station.

Upon arriving at the station, Makoto couldn't help but feel charmed as they entered the shopping center. She was so used to Tokyo, it was nice to see something a little less urban, even around a larger city. The stores were stacked on top of each other, the ground level with places such as bookstores and knick-knacks, while the upper levels had more food shops.

Immediately, she was drawn to a small bookstore on street level. She had a bad habit of buying books as a hobby; really, her collection was too large already, but she couldn't seem to help herself. Minato followed closely behind her as she entered the store, a bell softly tinkling their arrival.

As soon as she stepped in, she was hit with the musty smell of old books. Sunlight filtering in through the windows behind her illuminated motes of dust in the air. The whole shop held the feeling of being stopped in time.

Aimlessly, she wandered to the nearest shelf of books and began browsing the spines. Among the cozy atmosphere, it was easy to get lost in the moment.

"Oh, welcome in!"

An unfamiliar voice made her jump and whirl in surprise. "Oh! U-Uh, h-hello!" She spoke a bit too loudly in her surprise, and wasn't really sure who she was speaking to. Trying to ignore her own embarrassment, she finally found and met the eyes of a girl behind the counter. She was young, probably only around fifteen or so, with big brown eyes and dark hair. It seemed obvious now that she was the employee on duty.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" The girl managed to maintain polite professionalism even in the face of Makoto's blunder, asking them nicely about what they needed.

"Oh, uh, no." Makoto regained composure, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "No, we're just browsing—"

To her surprise, Minato stepped forward and cut her off. "Actually, I would like a good horror book."

The girl brightened instantly. "Oh, a book recommendation? I can totally do that! There's this one really good one, actually..." With that, the girl started chattering on to Minato, who was mostly silent save for the occasional hum and a nod. Makoto, a bit surprised at the change in demeanor, decided to leave him be, instead moving back to the stacks of books throughout the small store.

Eventually, Makoto had picked out a book she found interesting, and returned back to the register to check out. Minato and the girl were still chatting, though it didn't seem to be about the same thing anymore. Upon seeing Makoto walk up, the girl snapped out of the conversation.

"Oh, you want to check out?" she asked brightly, facing her.

Makoto nodded. "Yes. Just the one book." Gingerly, she set it down on the desk.

The girl nodded and moved to ring up the book, then stopped and turned to Minato. "Oh, yeah. Did you want me to grab that book we talked about?"

He nodded. "Yes, please."

The girl nodded back and then turned toward a door that led to a back room. "Hey, Granny!"

A few moments later, they were joined in the front by an old woman. The wrinkles in her face were deep, crow's feet cutting sharp lines in the corners of her eyes as she smiled bemusedly at the girl. "Hina-chan, you don't need to yell so loud. Now, what was it you needed?"

The girl—Hina-chan, apparently—gestured loosely toward Minato. "He was interested in Sleepless Dreamer, and I know we have a copy in the back. Would you be able to..." The girl's face twisted in concern. "Granny...?"

But Makoto wasn't looking at the girl anymore. No, instead her focus was captured by the old woman's face—her face that had twisted into something stricken, something wide-eyed and blindsided—as her focus was on something behind the girl.

On Minato.

Before Makoto could begin to truly act on what that meant, the old woman was speaking.

"Is that...?" Her words were shaky, her intake of breath unsteady. For a moment, she simply stared at Minato.

And then, finally, just when Makoto had recovered enough of herself to try to attempt damage control, the old woman spoke again. "...No, it couldn't be." She smiled at Minato gently, as if nothing had happened at all. "Sorry, dear, it's just that... Well, for a moment I mistook you for someone else. Let me grab that book for you." Without another word, the woman puttered away into the back.

Hina turned and shrugged at Minato apologetically. "Sorry about that. Granny's memory hasn't been so good for a while, so sometimes that kind of thing happens. I hope it didn't make you too uncomfortable."

"N...no..." Minato's tone made Makoto stop and look at him, take in the strange quality to his expression. Distant again, with a distinct edge of confusion. "It's alright."

They didn't get the chance to talk again, as the old woman appeared again with a hardcover novel in her hands. It was a simple blue book, the title, Sleepless Dreamer, inlaid in golden text on the front. She passed the book to Minato; her weathered, leathery hands meeting young, untouched ones.

"Enjoy the novel, dear," the woman said with a smile. Along with the book, the elderly lady passed over something small she had clenched in the palm of her gnarled hand. Questioningly, he peeked down and opened his hand. In it now rested two small wrapped candies.

"A little something for your trouble today," the woman clarified with a smile as she rang them up for their purchases.

Silently, Makoto paid the amount due, head spinning with the interaction she'd just witnessed. Was it truly possible that Minato...?

"Thank you two for coming."

For some reason, Makoto found herself bowing when she excused themselves. "Thank you to you as well." She scarcely waited before tugging Minato along with her out of the store, heart pounding.

Someone had...recognized Minato. Sure, it was definitely possible it'd been an honest mistake; the woman had been rather old, and the shop assistant had claimed she often mistook people for others.

Yet what if it hadn't been a coincidence? Was it really possible?

Realizing she hadn't really checked in with Minato on this, she stopped and turned to him once they were solidly out of the store and off to the side.

"Minato-kun...do you think it might be possible that you were acquainted with that old woman?" Makoto wasn't sure if she was being too forward, but they definitely needed to know. After all, this was the first instance of someone recognizing Minato, rather than the other way around.

Eyes clouded with something or something else, Minato stared at the ground, frowning. "I feel like...maybe. Something was...familiar..." Inexplicably, he raised his right hand and opened his fist, revealing the candies she'd given him. He stared at them as if he could see beyond what they really were—just old sweets cocooned in striped plastic wrappers.

This reaction was abnormal; it reminded her of how he'd reacted in the Metaverse, all distant and almost a bit disturbed. That alone was enough to establish a link in her mind.

That brought her mind to the next natural thought...

Had it been wrong of her to drag Minato away from the woman? No, surely not. After all, the woman had corrected herself after just a moment, clearly thinking herself crazy for seeing the uncanny resemblance to someone dead. It would have been impossible to try and engage in anything beyond that anyways.

Though the argument made plenty of logical sense in Makoto's mind, she still couldn't shake the feeling that she may have made a misstep. It was so difficult, to ride the thin line between keeping Minato's identity secret for the sake of hiding his resurrection, while also attempting to spark his memories.

When she broke out of her thoughts, she saw Minato staring contemplatively at the bookstore.

"Th-That's enough of that, I think. Why don't we move on to somewhere else?" Makoto tried to keep her words bright.

Minato turned and stared at her for a long moment. She felt a small bead of sweat run down her temple. Strangely, it felt like he could see inside her head, as if she couldn't keep even her own thoughts a secret from him.

The moment passed as Minato's eyes lowered with a shrug. "Sure."

Makoto let out a breath.

...And on they went.

——

The two of them visited a few more shops at the station outlet, but the mood had turned sour from the strange encounter. Makoto couldn't help but walk on eggshells, and Minato seemed obviously affected, more often than not seeming lost in his thoughts. Sensing the fact that things had become stagnant, Makoto suggested another change in scenery, to which Minato had agreed. This time, she decided to lead them toward the shrine she'd seen online. Things had been a little turbulent, so maybe what they needed was a moment of silence.

Pulling up her GPS, she inputted Naganaki Shrine and let it begin navigation. They began a relatively leisurely walk toward the shrine, weaving through the city of Iwatodai. A bit curious, she observed everything studiously, drinking in the sights and taking it to heart. The city seemed to be a fairly nice place, clean and calm. It was hard to believe it'd been the center of a crisis seven years ago.

She glanced up to her left as they passed by a large, grand-looking building. The sign-plate read: 'Iwatodai Dormitory'.

Huh. So they have dormitories around here as well? She supposed that made sense, since Gekkoukan High was just across the bridge on Port Island.

She thought nothing of the observation until she noticed the obvious lack of a second pair of footsteps on top of her own. Frowning slightly, she stopped and turned to look over her shoulder. Minato had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, staring up at Iwatodai Dorm and wearing a pensive look on his face. All at once, Makoto was reminded of the true purpose to their trip. Turning on her heel, she tentatively returned to Minato's side. The sound of her footsteps seemed somehow deafening.

"Minato-kun..." she started, unsure fully of how to begin. "Does this place...?"

"Yeah," he replied simply, saving her the trouble of formulating the full question. "This is..." His visible gray eye drifted over the sign in front of the building. He seemed...melancholic.

It was strange, but ever since they'd come to this city, it'd seemed like he was drifting more and more into dark moods that Makoto couldn't seem to keep him out of. He'd seemed darker than he'd ever been in Tokyo.

Maybe this place...didn't hold many good memories for Minato?

I just don't know, she thought helplessly.

"I think I lived here..." Minato continued, without prompting. "No, I must have. Yes, I did." He was unmoving, even as his words grew more certain. He stared up the building, nearly unblinking. "This was... Yes... We lived here."

Instantly, she was fine-tuned onto that one little word, tossed into his sentence so haphazardly, so unthinkingly. "'We'? Who is 'we'?"

"Me and..." Silence reigned for a long moment. "...The others," he finally finished, stilted. Something about him seemed hazy. "We all lived here."

"Yes, but who is 'the others'?" Makoto pressed slightly, sensing an opportunity.

Again, all he did was stare unblinking at the building, wide-eyed and distant. It was almost frightening. "They're..."

He fell silent for nearly a full minute, before Makoto grew a bit afraid and pulled him back to reality. For some reason, it felt dangerous to let him continue, like he was slipping away.

"It's okay," she finally said, relieved when his eyes became more aware again. "Don't push yourself too hard. You've made some progress just by remembering a little bit."

Surprisingly, Minato gave in without complaint, keeping silent. It made her uneasy, especially remembering how strong his reaction had been back when they'd told him of Aragaki. For now, though, she'd let it go, if only to avoid triggering a panic from him.

"Futaba can look into Iwatodai Dorm when we return. I'm sure she can find out who else lived there back..." She trailed off, barely catching her own mistake. She'd nearly revealed the huge time discrepancy to Minato. "...back when you did," she finished awkwardly. Though Minato seemed to be giving her a strange look, he didn't comment on her odd phrasing. A small miracle.

"...Yeah," he finally echoed softly in response. They stood in front of the dorm for a moment longer before he turned and began walking again. Makoto had to hurry to catch up so she could take the lead again; she was the one who knew where they were going, after all.

That thought snagged on something in her mind. She glanced at Minato out of the corner of her eye. Or maybe...that wasn't really true.

Shaking her head, she dispelled those thoughts. Footsteps quick and certain, she led them onwards, toward Naganaki Shrine. Minato followed quietly behind her, practically a ghost with how little presence he exuded. It was as if he really was haunting his old city, restless and immortal.

The thought frightened her more than she would ever admit, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Best not to think about those sorts of things.

——

Their visit to the shrine wasn't anything particularly notable. Minato stayed quiet and pensive, looking around at every detail with a twisted sort of recognition. They'd stayed there for a little while, silent and uncertain, before he'd finally proclaimed he was ready to move on.

After that, she'd recommended heading to Paulownia Mall, and thus they began their trek across the city to get back to Tatsumi Port Island. She decided to take them on footpaths to get there, since it'd be a little closer than taking the train again, and Minato might spark more memories by going on foot. The walk had been perfectly normal.

Until they started across Moonlight Bridge.

"This is..." He trailed off, so lost in thought.

Makoto immediately felt her heart leap into her throat, dread washing over her. "Minato-kun?"

He acted as if he hadn't heard her. "This is where it happened."

"Where...where what happened?" She was sweating. She hadn't wanted to ask.

"Where my parents..." His breaths were heaving, eyes distant and glassy. It was clear that he wasn't even there.

Her heart dropped into her stomach. She remembered what Futaba had told them.

"Where they..."

"Minato-kun," she interrupted, trying to keep him from falling into his memories. Tentatively, she put a hand on his shoulder, hoping it'd ground him, even if just a little. "Stay with me."

He turned to her. She nearly thought her attempt successful, until she saw his empty expression. "I was there when it happened. That's how we first met."

With increasing fright, Makoto shook her head, helpless. "Minato-kun, I don't know what you're talking about," she stressed, beginning to sound pleading. "Those things happened in the past. Please, you need to snap out of it."

"On that day..." He was shivering under her grip, so she tightened it. Maybe she was hurting him, maybe it was too tight, but she was too frightened to think of such things.

"Minato..." She forced him to look at her. "You're not there right now. Please." Her eyes, the color of rust, swam with desperation.

Finally, he seemed to come back to himself slightly, falling silent. She wasn't sure if he was still lost in memory, or simply shutting down, but either way she was scared. She didn't know how to handle this. Her grip on his shoulders was bruising.

Eventually, his body lost its tension, and Makoto had to steady him on her shoulder at the sudden loss of strength.

"M-Minato...?" Her voice was wobbling.

Though his expression still seemed distant, he responded to her words. "...I'm okay now."

She didn't believe him. Of course she didn't believe him.

The silence was choking. She spoke just to fill it.

"I-I'm sorry..." His weight on her shoulder seemed nearly as crushing as her own guilt. "If-If I hadn't taken you—"

"Not your fault..." His voice sounded dead, so it was hard to tell if he meant it. Just based off of his personality, he probably did, but Makoto just couldn't forgive herself for this. She should've been more careful. She hadn't even thought about how this trip could end up dredging up more negative memories than positive ones.

"I-I've..."

"I knew they were gone." This time when he'd spoken, it was more strong, but he still wasn't looking at her. "I just wasn't ready. For memories."

"I..."

"Let's just go." Without waiting for an answer, he pulled away from her grip and started walking ahead.

Feeling more helpless than ever, Makoto had no choice but to follow.

——

The mood was off-kilter, when they reached Paulownia Mall. Makoto was overflowing with things she knew not to voice, and Minato was the opposite, as if he'd been sucked of all life. Thoughts of the same nature weighed heavily on them, an invisible weight.

They wandered Paulownia Mall. There were shops, a karaoke joint, a night club. None of them were noteworthy, to her or to Minato—or if they were noteworthy to him he showed no signs of recognition. She weakly suggested to do karaoke. He'd done nothing but look at her; it was all she needed to rescind the offer.

The trip was aimless for a while. Makoto checked her watch periodically, at one point noting the hour hand with some level of dread. Minato hadn't waited long before suggesting they go to the school.

It hadn't been much of a suggestion, really.

Makoto was convinced that she was more anxious than Minato himself, as they approached the building and her heart rate continued to climb. Due to the time, more people were on the streets, even for a Tuesday afternoon, and it did nothing but remind her of what was coming.

After what had happened on Moonlight Bridge, Makoto couldn't help but be afraid. Was he going to lose himself to another episode again? She really wasn't able to handle such things! Someone like Haru or Ann would be able to, but even after her growth pertaining to interacting with others, she still just wasn't the nurturing type.

She swallowed a sigh and glanced over at Minato. His face was as blank as a statue.

They reached the school gates, and Minato stopped and stared at the building in front of him. When he spoke next, he was almost nonchalant.

"So this is it..."

"It's—" 'Familiar?', had been the word about to leave her mouth, but he cut her off.

"Yes." He blinked and started walking again. "Let's go."

"Um..." This time, she cut herself off. Really, she wasn't sure what she'd been about to say at all. Defeated, she followed silently.

Though he was at least wearing casual clothes rather than his uniform, Makoto was still terrified of him being recognized. Hopefully, if they didn't interact with any faculty, everything would be fine. Still, her palms were sweating a bit, and she wiped them on her pants.

Entering the school lobby, she couldn't help but look around in interest. It really was a nice school. Apparently, it was funded by the Kirijo Corporation, so that shouldn't really have been a surprise, but Makoto was still impressed.

Makoto turned her focus from the building to the students. There were many students walking around, all in Gekkoukan uniforms identical to the one they'd found Minato wearing. There were groups of girls chatting and boys teasing each other and laughing; all of them seemed so cheerful. It was strange, with the way Makoto felt as if earlier she'd been pulled into Minato's melancholy. Seeing the normalcy of the school helped shake it, if only slightly.

With newfound stability, she turned to Minato with a smile. Perhaps it was a little tired, but it was no less real. "Is there anywhere in particular you'd like to go?"

Minato seemed a bit caught off-guard by her sudden shift. "Um. No."

"We'll just walk around then." Makoto grabbed his hand without waiting for a response and began to lead the way down the hall on the left, only releasing her hold once he was well and truly following.

They stuck out slightly with their clothes, but at least both of them were wearing gray, making them a bit more camouflaged than the alternative. Inwardly, she thanked Minato for having more sensible fashion sense than Ryuji.

They passed by various faculty offices, and Makoto winced at her poor luck. Guess they should've started with the right hallway. Well, it didn't matter now, considering they hadn't run into anyone.

Together they continued to wander through the halls. Makoto kept their pace just quick enough to seem purposeful in order to avoid confrontation, a tactic which kept them out of any trouble.

Minato was even quieter than usual as they walked. Judging from the way his expression was set in a permanent frown, she deemed it was due to recognition, which wasn't a shock. He'd made it exceedingly clear that the school was familiar, and he seemed to walk the halls with a confidence that wasn't entirely faked, as if his feet had carved paths through these floors, unbeknownst even to himself.

Again, Makoto found herself uncertain of what to do or say. Minato seemed content to engulf himself in his own thoughts, but Makoto couldn't help but feel that it wasn't the healthiest choice. Their conversation at the flower shop still stuck out to her, a stark black mark in her mind. Still, she let him be.

It was after they'd seen a good majority of the first floor when Makoto finally decided to prod him a little bit.

"Is any of this familiar to you?"

The response that followed from Minato was shocking—not because of the words, but because of his tone. He seemed almost...angry.

"Yeah. It is."

Carefully, Makoto verbally reached out to him. "Minato-kun...?"

Stiffly, he turned his face away from her, a clear rejection. "I'm fine."

Alarm shot through her. Had she been too strong? Maybe he'd grown tired with the way she'd been holding his hand every step of the way. It'd been for his own benefit, but maybe he didn't see it that way?

"Minato-kun, what's wrong?" She tried to broach it gently, but he ignored her.

Before she was able to ask again, she noticed a change in his expression, frustration turning into emptiness.

"Sorry. Need to think," Minato murmured, expression shuttered and eyes dark. Before Makoto could even think of responding, he turned on his heel and started off.

She reached out a hand, as if to pull him back. "Ah! Wait, Mi—" She choked down the name before it could slip out, too self-conscious of recognition to shout it out carelessly.

She followed after him as quick as she could, but when she rounded the corner he'd gone down, he was nowhere to be seen. Frantically, she whipped her head from side to side, cursing herself for losing him. It could potentially be catastrophic if someone recognized him.

Biting back a frustrated noise, she picked a direction and headed down the hallway briskly, not even bothering to watch her step.

A fact which quickly backfired when she turned a corner and smacked straight into someone. Both of them fell back, tumbling to the ground from the force of the blow. The wind was knocked out of her as she fell straight onto her behind.

"Ugh..." Makoto groaned, eyes squeezed shut in pain. Slowly, she raised herself up onto one arm, barely managing to grit her teeth and open one eye.

"Ow..." All it took was one reminder of the other person to have her quickly snapping to attention. The moment her eyes rested on the boy she'd run into, her politeness kicked in in full force.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized sincerely, dragging herself to her feet. Trying to make up for her blunder, she held out her hand to help the other student up.

The boy she'd knocked over stared up at her through sideswept bangs. For some reason, his brown eyes looked almost as apologetic as her own. Still, he reached up and accepted her helping hand, pulling himself up. As he reached out, Makoto's attention caught on a yellow armband he wore, and the stark black kanji printing out: 'Student Council'.

She sighed to herself. Of course she'd just managed to knock over a student council member. Some student council president she was proving herself to be.

"No, it's my fault," he apologized. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

Makoto frowned and shook her head. "No, really, the fault is mine. I shouldn't have been running through the halls." Her mind wandered back to the reason for her recklessness. She needed to extract herself from this conversation and find Minato, and quickly.

"Are you okay?"

Makoto's attention snapped back to the boy. He looked concerned, though she didn't miss the way his gaze grew slightly more appraising as he took in her lack of a school uniform.

She needed to appease this student and find Minato. "Oh, yes, I'm alright. Are you okay?" She didn't let any of her impatience seep into her formalities.

"Yes, I'm fine." His eyes grew more focused, and suddenly she smelled trouble. "Is everything okay? You seem a little bit flustered."

Makoto debated whether to send him off or take advantage of his offer. It certainly was true that she had little idea of where Minato would have run off to...

Caving in, she decided to test the waters. "Actually, a friend of mine just ran off without me. I'm not from this school, so I have no idea where he might've gone. He said he wanted to be alone."

The boy frowned. "Have you tried the roof? I think that's as good a place as any."

"Ah, well, that's..."

Before she could point out the problem, the boy came to the realization himself. "Do you need me to show you the way?"

Forcefully, Makoto shook her head. "Oh, no, that's really not necessary! I'm sure I can find it on my own—"

"It's not a big deal," the boy said simply, giving her a friendly smile. "It'll only take a minute." Straightening up, he met her eyes more seriously. "Oh, I should probably introduce myself. My name is Ama—"

"President!" The sound of a shout cut off the boy's words. Both the boy and Makoto startled at the sound, and a moment later another student in a Gekkoukan uniform ran up to them.

"Please, no running in the halls..." The boy chided, sounding more tired than anything. With the way he glanced at Makoto and rubbed his forehead, it was obvious what he was thinking about.

"Sorry," the other student apologized, though it hardly seemed sincere with the way it'd been accompanied with a carefree smile. "Anyways, Prez, we could use your help with the Drama Club. They're making a stink about having to swap their meeting room."

The student council president sighed and pinched his brow. "Again? We've given them plenty of warning..."

"I know, but they won't listen to us." The other boy placed his hands together beseechingly. "C'mon, Prez, this is what you're best at! We need you!"

With a long-suffering look, the boy turned to Makoto again. His eyes spoke apology. "I'm sorry, but..."

"It's fine," Makoto replied, secretly a little relieved to have gotten rid of him. "I'll find the roof on my own. Thank you, and sorry again."

"Good luck with your friend." The boy left with the other student after delivering those parting words. Makoto waited until they were out of sight before resuming her search for Minato.

The roof, huh?

Tiredly, Makoto began to retrace her steps through the halls. Before long, she was at a staircase. At least Minato had chosen someplace easy for her to find on her own.

She trudged up the stairs, dodging students coming to the lower floors, nudging through when necessary. Politeness wasn't at the forefront of her mind. When she got to the second level, she turned and continued up the stairs.

Despite its source of funding, the school was only two floors, and Makoto found herself on the roof before she knew it. Across from her standing next to to the fence around the perimeter, was Minato. He wasn't looking at her, instead staring out at the scenery.

He took a step that angled his body more towards her. She still couldn't see his eyes.

For a blinding moment, there was silence.

"Niijima-san." His gentle voice shattered the quiet; yet, somehow, it hadn't broken through the ethereal nature of the scene. The wind kicked up, blew Minato's hair away from his eyes so she could see him clearly for the first time. Somehow, his eyes held so much sadness. "Please tell me honestly. It's been many years, hasn't it?"

Makoto froze. She hadn't been expecting that, not a single bit.

The wind died down and his hair settled, obscuring half of his sorrowful gaze once again. "Please answer."

She forced her lips to move, her mouth to work. She wasn't sure if what she was doing was the right thing. But still she answered.

Somehow, her lips felt dry no matter how she wet them. "Seven years."

He had no strong visible reaction. It was honestly relieving. Though perhaps she should've been wondering if maybe he was masking again.

"I see..." He looked back out over the horizon. "That makes sense..."

"You could tell?" The words left her lips with a mind of their own.

"For a while." A pause, heavy and laced with purpose. "Maybe since the start."

"I...see." Finding some of herself, Makoto stepped forward. "I'm sorry for hiding this from you. All of us are. We just didn't know how to tell you."

"Because..." He trailed off. Makoto had no clue what he'd intended to say, but couldn't shake the feeling it was deeply important.

"Because...?" she echoed quietly, taking one more step closer.

"Because I'm not supposed to exist?"

Alarm shot through her, abruptly bringing her fully back to herself. She closed the distance between quickly. "Minato-kun, no, that's not true," she stressed, words strained. "You're here now. It has nothing to do with what's 'supposed to' happen. You don't need...permission to be alive."

"But I'm not supposed to be?" It was a question, it was, yet something resigned lay within. Like he'd already decided, and asking was just a formality.

"It's not that you're not supposed to..." She stumbled slightly, unsure of how to word it. As quickly as she could, she gathered her thoughts and spoke again, as decisively as possible. "It's no mistake that you being alive now is unusual, but that doesn't mean it's wrong."

"Tell me."

His words knocked some of her composure aside, replacing it with confusion. "What?"

"What happened. To me." Finally he looked away from the sky and directly at her. His eyes were deathly serious. "Tell me."

Makoto swallowed down the surprise and nodded. "Yes... You have a right to know."

She kept her gaze steady and voice clear. Minato deserved that much. "Minato-kun... You've been dead for seven years. In 2009, you supposedly passed away from exhaustion. But just recently, we found you in the Metaverse, alive and still looking the same as the day you died."

He stared at her, unblinking. His gray eyes were placid, almost empty. "I see."

"Do you...have any more questions?"

"...No..." He looked away again. "...Niijima-san..."

Worried by his tone, she could only bring herself to respond tentatively. "Yes...?"

"Thank you for taking me here." Flat words and a flat expression. "But I think I'm ready to go back."

This wasn't okay. She knew that. But she didn't know the right answer or how to fix it.

So instead, she just answered.

"O-Of course."

——

It was a quiet rush, at Leblanc, as usual, as expected for the day of the week and the time. Without the kids around, the place always seemed a bit quiet.

The bell tinkled; Sojiro spared barely a glance for the newcomer over his crossword. They took a seat at the counter, and Sojiro couldn't help but pause, look at them a little more thoroughly at their demeanor, as they read the surroundings with a studiousness that unnerved him. It reminded him of the elder Niijima, of someone who wanted something other than the obvious. Suddenly Sojiro couldn't help but be on his guard, though he was much too smart to show it.

"What can I get you?" Sojiro asked the newcomer, masking his reassessment of them as if he was simply seeing them for the first time.

The young woman blinked at him, almost owlish, and halted her examination. When her eyes—almost piercing, that electric blue—met his own, he couldn't help the way his instincts bristled in suspicion. But again, he was much too smart, much too trained, to let it show on his face.

"I will have..." She paused, trailed off for a moment as if in thought, though her eyes stayed fixed in place. "...The house blend," she finally answered, resettling her gaze on his own.

As much as Sojiro could sense an underlying motive, he couldn't just refuse a paying customer. He'd have to wait for her to reveal her hand before tossing her out.

"Coming right up." He headed over to the coffee beans and grabbed his particular favorite for newcomers. When he turned around to head for the coffee grinders, he threw a subtle glance in her direction and saw her studying the place again, all-too-intense for something as mundane as a coffee shop.

His mind wandered to Shido's Conspiracy. Though she didn't have the look of someone involved in such a thing, looks could be greatly deceiving, and it was the only sort of trouble he could think of that those kids had gotten themselves into.

He gave her outfit a once-over. A crisp black blazer, a red ribbon tied around her throat, pressed black slacks—the whole ensemble looked like it cost more than what he made in a month. Was it Conspiracy material? Maybe, maybe not. Regardless, she came from high places. Not a great sign.

Sojiro was still in the middle of preparing the coffee when she spoke again. "Are you the owner of this establishment?"

He kept his expression calm, kept his eyes from narrowing. "Yeah, that's me. Have been since I opened the place." Casually, he finished up the coffee and set it in front of her, gently. She took it in two hands, but did not raise it to her lips.

Upon second glance, there was something uncanny about the grace with which she moved, about the smoothness of her pale skin. It, combined with her unnatural eyes and straw-blond hair, created the image of something vaguely alien. He wasn't sure where the thought had come from, but now that it'd entered his head he just couldn't seem to shake it.

"I see." He expected more elaboration, but received none. The woman—or perhaps she really was more a girl, she appeared somewhat young—remained quiet, stare directed toward the stairs now before sliding elsewhere. "It is very pleasant here."

Sojiro wasn't entirely sure what to do with that, so he took it at face value. "Thanks, I try. Too many places lose that feeling of home nowadays, trying to be all modern and appealing." He shook his head, but throughout it all he was keeping an eye on her reactions. "But you just can't replicate all the little things, the scuffs on the wood, the dents in the floor. All the charm."

"I believe I see what you mean." Inside, Sojiro was dubious. Did someone who looked like they walked straight out of an upscale business fashion catalogue really understand?

"It's alright if you don't get it," Sojiro replied with a vague shrug. "It's not everyone's cup of tea."

To his surprise, she responded with something like offense. Even when her eyebrows lowered, even as she seemed annoyed, her expressions still seemed a bit too smooth, that crease between her brows a bit too perfect. "No, there is charm to the imperfections."

All at once, Sojiro found himself reminded of the Kitagawa kid, with all of his poetic prose and penchant for dramatics, and he lowered his guard, just a bit. It was possible she was merely eccentric.

"My thoughts exactly," he agreed, giving in just a bit.

"Imperfection is what gives things character," she continued without prompting. "It is a very human trait. Perhaps that is what makes it feel so welcoming."

He quirked an eyebrow. "I suppose."

Things fell into silence after that. Sojiro couldn't bring himself to relax totally, but the woman did not make any strange moves. Her eyes wandered, but her feet stayed firmly planted in place. More than once, she seemed to fixate on the stairs to Akira's room, but each time she dropped it without comment.

After a while had passed, the woman shifted in her chair, made to stand up. "I believe I shall be going now. The shadows have grown rather large, lately."

Sojiro frowned, glancing outside. The sun had fallen some as evening had slid in. Indeed, the shadows over the booths were large, stretching long across vacant tables and chairs. It was a rather strange wording, though. That thought rattled in his head, knocked up against something vaguely familiar.

When he glanced back to her, she had stood fully and was watching him with intensity, as if gauging his reaction. Eventually, she broke the eye contact, and Sojiro couldn't tell if she'd found what she'd been looking for.

"It was very nice," she said, closing those blue, blue eyes and finally turning away. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure," Sojiro responded, feeling somewhat lost by her changing demeanor. So intense in one moment, and then the perfect picture of cordiality in the next. Were her words veiled threats, was the visit some kind of warning, or was she just an innocuous but strange customer?

"Please excuse me." With those words, the woman exited the café, the cheerful little tinkle chasing her out. Sojiro found himself wondering what the purpose of it all had been.

After a moment, he shook himself out of it and began to tidy up. It had gotten late.

Sojiro reached to clean up her cup and then paused with a huff of annoyance.

She'd never even taken a sip.

Chapter Text

"Minato seems really upset."

It'd been two days since Makoto had returned from Iwatodai, and a melancholy still lingered around him unrelentingly. The day that they'd returned, drained and much-too-silent, Minato had been practically mute, almost immediately withdrawing upstairs and putting his headphones on. It had been clear he'd wanted to lock everyone else out, so they'd let him be.

Downstairs, though, they'd spoken to Makoto in hushed tones, full of concern.

"He knows now," she'd told him and Akira, and they'd exchanged a meaningful glance.

"Everything?" Akira had asked.

Makoto had nodded solemnly, somehow appearing to have aged ten years in the short span of an afternoon. She'd proceeded to explain everything that he'd remembered and all that he'd figured out over the course of their trip.

Akira had nodded slowly, but Morgana had been able to see a little bit of unease underneath his unshakable veneer. Ever since that conversation with Minato, Morgana had been watching Akira closer than ever, unable to stand the idea that he'd been hiding his true self from them. Now that he'd started to really pay attention, it seemed almost obvious how Akira's behavior was largely a front.

So when Akira had responded, Morgana had been able to hear his hesitation. Out of respect for Akira, he hadn't mentioned anything.

Just like he had kept quiet for the two days that Minato had holed himself in the attic, hardly coming down for meals.

Collectively, once the Thieves had heard about what had happened, they'd unanimously decided to let Minato process everything and recuperate. Everyone had started going back to school in their usual schedule, and life had resumed almost a semblance of normalcy.

Except for Morgana.

He hadn't been able to leave Minato alone at Leblanc in good conscience, so he'd told Akira he'd stay home and watch over him. Akira hadn't protested.

And so Morgana had kept Minato company, generally from a distance, while the boy continued to keep to himself, trapped in his thoughts and blocking out the world with music.

...Which led them to their current conversation.

"...Yeah, he is," Akira eventually replied, troubled. He was twisting his bangs between his fingers, his usual nervous tic.

"Did we do the wrong thing, taking him to Iwatodai?" Morgana turned to look up at Akira, big blue eyes clouded with uncertainty. "He seems so...sad."

"Yeah..." Akira said again, darker this time.

In distress, Morgana shook his head. "How do we fix this, Akira?" He thought back on how hard he'd had to fight lately just to get Minato to eat breakfast and felt a pang of sadness grip his heart. "I just want to help him."

"I know," Akira agreed softly. "We all do."

"There has to be something we can do." Morgana felt his claws sink into the sheets of Akira's bed without his say-so. Slowly, he forced his muscles to relax, loosing his death grip on the fabric. "It feels like it's our fault that he's going through this."

"Maybe we shouldn't jump the gun on this," Akira said, though his uncertain tone didn't lend any credence to his words. "Maybe he just needs time to process it all. It's only been a few days."

Morgana was dubious, but didn't have the evidence to object. Maybe Akira was right...

But it still didn't feel right, to leave Minato to stew like this.

As if reading his thoughts, Akira patted his head lightly and tried on a reassuring smile. "Try not to worry too much about it, Morgana. Give him a little more time. He's clearly strong. I'm sure he'll come around."

Morgana allowed Akira to pet him, if only in hopes that it would settle the unhappiness in his heart.

It didn't work.

——

The next morning, Akira got up and got ready for school, as usual. Morgana loitered around the attic, watching over Minato as he laid on the couch, unmoving, his back to them. Akira seemed worried still, but didn't press Minato into turning around or speaking, leaving for school with a quiet sigh. It was almost their routine, at this point.

Once Morgana had heard the jingle of the bell over the door downstairs, he hopped up onto the table by the sofa, staring down at Minato pensively. He didn't want to bother him, but he didn't want to leave him alone, either.

"...Minato?" Morgana gingerly stretched out a paw, joining Minato on the sofa with only a small amount of trepidation. "Are you okay?"

There was no response, but Morgana knew that he wasn't asleep. His breaths were too uneven for sleep, and the way his shoulders tensed slightly didn't escape Morgana's notice. Slowly, slow enough that Minato had plenty of time to move away, Morgana closed the distance between them. For once, Morgana was glad that he was a cat as he wiggled his body into the small space between Minato's body and the back of the couch. From his new spot directly in front of Minato's face, the boy had no way to avoid looking at him. When Morgana chanced a look down at Minato's face, he caught a glimpse of dull gray eyes staring into nothing.

"...Minato?" he tried again, staring down at him with worried blue eyes. Gently, he headbutted the boy on his forehead, hoping for some kind of reaction.

"Morgana..." The boy's voice was exhausted, and it was more of a sigh than a real response, but it was better than nothing at all. He shifted, as if to burrow deeper into the couch cushions.

But Morgana had decided that he wouldn't let Minato escape him—not today. He was done allowing the boy to wallow alone in pain. With not a moment's hesitation, he wriggled his way into Minato's arms and curled up next to the boy's stomach, purring. Whenever Akira seemed uncertain, this had always seemed to make him feel better. Minato couldn't be that much different.

"Morgana..." Minato protested again, but it was considerably weaker, and soon after his hand was stroking the fur over Morgana's back.

Success.

"Minato, we're worried about you," Morgana began plainly, craning his neck to stare up at Minato's face. The boy's expression was a little less hidden from this angle, and Morgana could see the tired bags under his eyes clearly. It made his heart ache, but it also strengthened his resolve. "I want to make sure you're okay."

The hand petting his fur stuttered in its rhythm slightly, but soon recovered. However, it simply couldn't hide the tension in Minato's body. "Of course." His tone was dead.

Morgana glared up at Minato and resisted the urge to prick him with his claws. "No, you're not." In the next moment, he allowed his expression to soften considerably, his real worry seeping in. "We know you're going through a lot, but it hurts to see you go through it alone. Please, just talk to us, Minato." He didn't bother to keep the plaintive note from his tone. If he had to beg, he would. If it would break Minato out of this funk he'd fallen into, he'd go so far as to plead on his metaphorical hands and knees.

Minato's expression shuttered. Yet, somehow, it was better than the deadened expression he'd had before. Now Morgana could see it, the way that he was holding something back. There'd been pain behind his eyes, before he'd pulled the curtain over it.

"You don't have to conceal your feelings," Morgana said softly, brows upturning imploringly. "I just want to know what you're thinking."

Shakily, Minato shook his head. It wasn't a very effective motion, with the way his cheek was smushed into the couch, but it got the point across just fine. "I-It's just..." He swallowed as his voice began to waver. "...Too much," he finally whispered, barely audible even to Morgana's sharp ears.

Morgana pressed his cheek against Minato's body comfortingly, hoping it would reassure him. "I understand," he said, because he did. Or at least, he thought he did. After a moment, he looked up at Minato again. "Will you come down and eat breakfast?"

Minato hesitated, and Morgana could see the refusal coming, so he spoke up again. "Boss is worried about you, too, you know, even if he doesn't say it. It would make him feel better if you ate some of his curry." In fact, Morgana knew for certain that Boss had been worrying. Every time that Minato didn't come down for a meal, or came down and only barely picked at his plate, Morgana saw the lines of his face deepen.

At that, Minato's expression twisted into something regretful. "I'm sorry," he said, voice so apologetic you'd think he'd committed some grave sin. "I didn't realize I was worrying him."

"We're all worried, Minato," Morgana said again, stressing the point. "Not just Boss. Akira, too, and everyone else. We all care about you, and we don't want you to be hurting like this. That's why we weren't sure whether or not to tell you anything." Morgana shook his head. "We didn't mean to keep secrets from you."

"I'm not upset about that." Minato was staring off into space again, though from his words at the very least he was tuned in.

"Then...?" Morgana prodded, lilting his voice into a question. He didn't want to push too hard, but maybe Minato wanted someone to talk to.

"It's..." He trailed off. Someone else may have grown frustrated, but Morgana merely waited, willing to be patient. Minato wasn't someone who could be rushed. In a way, it reminded him a bit of Akira. Morgana would never forget the way he'd become so withdrawn after what happened to Akechi. After many nights where Morgana hadn't pushed much at all, eventually he'd told Morgana about how close their relationship had really been. Morgana hadn't said much of anything—just listened. That was all he'd really wanted. Maybe the same was true of Minato.

Eventually, Minato opened his mouth again, and Morgana internally rejoiced at his intuition being proven correct.

"It's what's missing."

Morgana was so busy being glad that Minato had finally said something that, at first, he didn't process the words. After a heartbeat had passed and his brain had caught up to the words, he frowned deeply. "What do you mean?"

Minato curled around him more tightly, not enough to truly displace him, but clearly closing himself off. "...Memories," he finally murmured, and when Morgana looked up Minato's eye was full of unbridled sorrow. All at once, Morgana's heart clenched in sympathy. Out of everything, Morgana could understand Minato's amnesia the most.

"I've regained some of my memories...but I'm still missing the most important ones." Minato continued, speaking to no one, his face still pointed resolutely at the back couch cushions. When his voice quavered, as if he was just holding back tears, Morgana said nothing. "The people most important to me...I still feel like they're there, but I can't remember them. The most important thing of all..." He trailed off.

Morgana felt helpless. He didn't entirely know what to say to make Minato feel better. He had no idea how best to comfort him in this situation. After all, how did you comfort someone who had the same thoughts and insecurities as yourself? Morgana was plagued by similar thoughts regarding his own amnesia; a feeling that huge, important pieces were missing, pieces that meant something massive, but he just couldn't remember. He had recurring nightmares about his fears of being a Shadow, about being nothing but an ordinary creature of darkness after all that he hoped and dreamed.

Minato clearly didn't have exactly the same worries in that regard, but the general feeling and emotional turmoil was the same. Morgana did not know how to deal with it in himself, so he had no idea what to say to Minato. But he knew that he couldn't just leave him like this, either.

"I'm sure you'll get your memories back," Morgana meowed, trying to make his voice seem strong and certain and reassuring, even when he was anything but. "We're both in the same boat. If we stop believing in getting them back, I think we lose everything."

Minato continued as if he hadn't heard him. "The more I know, the more I feel as if what I'm forgetting is important. Really important. The most important thing to me."

Morgana hesitated. "Uh, well... At least you know who you are! I don't have any memories of myself at all, you know?" he eventually said, a weak attempt at comfort.

But that only seemed to make things worse. "No. Whatever I'm missing, it's more important than myself. I know that it was the most important thing to me. My reason."

That got Morgana to tilt his head in genuine confusion. "Your reason?"

"My reason for living," Minato clarified, and for some reason that made a chill run down Morgana's spine, the fur along his back prickling. There was something somber there, something foreboding and dark. Those words made his heart jump in something like fear, made his mind wander back to that time in Mementos, when Minato had shot himself with nary a moment of hesitation.

"But...just because you can't remember your reason doesn't mean you don't have one, right?" Morgana found himself saying, tone uncertain. He wasn't sure why he was suddenly consumed with gnawing worry, but it was a terrible feeling.

To Morgana's extreme relief, Minato's response was reassuring. "No. Just because I can't remember doesn't mean it doesn't exist. It's still there." He buried his fingers in Morgana's fur. He didn't say anything, letting Minato hold onto him for dear life. "That doesn't stop it from hurting..."

That, Morgana could very much understand. That feeling of a hole in you, like a phantom limb, never went away. Even with the distraction of the day-to-day, nothing could fully take away that nagging feeling of something missing.

"Futaba is still looking," Morgana offered after a moment had passed in silence. "Makoto told her about Iwatodai Dorm. She's already added it onto her list of things she's looking into."

An unreadable expression crossed Minato face. It was such a flurry of different emotions, it was completely impossible to parse. Morgana wondered if Minato himself even knew what he was feeling.

"I'm grateful," he finally said, sounding a little bit choked. "You all have done so much for me."

"And we'd do it all again," Morgana answered. He'd never been more certain of something. "We care about you, Minato. Don't forget that."

The hand resting on his back resumed its motion, and Morgana took that as a good sign. If Minato was finally feeling a little better, it was a victory.

"Niijima-san said the same thing." Minato's voice was a little bit wry, a little bit uncomprehending, as if the idea that someone might worry about him was still some foreign concept.

"Guess that shows how we're all on the same page, then." Morgana blinked up at Minato innocently, fully aware of what he was doing.

For the first time in days, a small smile crossed Minato's lips. It was weak and only barely there, but it was enough to make Morgana's heart soar. Minato's hand lightly smoothed the fur on his forehead before migrating down to scratch the underside of his chin. Only superficially begrudging, Morgana soon leaned into the touch, purring.

"Does this mean you'll come down and eat breakfast?" Morgana finally asked after Minato had had his fill of petting him.

The mood shifted slightly, but not enough to chase away the comfortable mood things had slipped into. Morgana patiently held Minato's gaze. Eventually, the boy pushed himself up from the couch, sitting on it normally. Morgana quickly followed his example, straightening up and wrapping his tail around his paws primly.

"...Yeah." Without much deliberation, Minato rose from the sofa and headed for the stairs.

It caught him by surprise; Morgana hadn't anticipated it being so easy. He scrambled to follow Minato, shouting after him in surprise. "Hey! Wait for me!"

——

Boss set down a plate of curry and a cup of black coffee in front of Minato almost the moment that the boy sat down at the bar, a clear testament to how worried he'd really been. In fact, Boss must've been extremely relieved, because he didn't even try to shoo Morgana off of standing on the bar. Instead, he set down an additional plate of food in front of him, albeit one much more catered to feline tastes. As much as Morgana would've rather had Boss's curry, this feline-friendly concoction that Boss occasionally whipped up for him was undeniably delicious, and probably better than eating the Pocky and rice crackers that Futaba often slipped him.

Regardless of that, Morgana never turned down food Boss made for him, and so he dug in immediately, resolving to listen in on Boss and Minato's conversation.

"You look better, kid," Boss commented as he began aimlessly polishing glasses. He gave Minato a glance from over the rim of his glasses. "Did you manage to work through whatever it was that was eating at you?"

Minato's shoulders hunched a little, but thankfully he still answered. "A bit."

Boss nodded thoughtfully. "I don't know what it was that happened, but I know you'll get through it just fine. You're a tough kid."

Minato lowered his head. From a normal vantage point, it would've been impossible to read his face, but Morgana could see it. That vulnerable look had crossed Minato's face again, giving him an almost fragile appearance. The full significance was beyond him, but he had the feeling that this time, Minato wasn't upset out of sadness.

"I'm sorry for worrying you." Minato's voice shook, and Morgana caught his shoulders trembling.

Boss's expression softened. "Don't worry about me, kid. I can handle a bit of worry. Got used to it the moment I became a parent." The edge of Boss's lip quirked up, into something a bit wry. "You kids get so determined to deal with everything on your own. All I ask is that you don't forget to talk to this old man every once in a while. I may not be well-versed in all this Metaverse mumbo-jumbo, but I've got my own tricks up my sleeve."

"Thank you, Sakura-san." Minato's voice sounded thick with emotion, so genuine it hurt.

"Geez, kid, it's nothing much." Boss said as he rubbed the back of his neck, almost sounding sheepish. "And how many times do I have to tell you? Call me Boss." There was no bite to his words, nothing but warm fondness lay within.

"Thank you, Boss," Minato said again, quietly. He still hadn't looked up.

Boss sighed fondly and shook his head. "Don't mention it, kid. Now eat up before your curry gets cold."

Obligingly, Minato picked up his spoon and took a bite. Smiling softly, Morgana went back to his own food. Minato was going to be just fine.

——

They finished their breakfasts peacefully, Boss going back to a crossword and Minato content to eat in quiet. It was nice, an easy sort of silence. It reminded Morgana of his quiet moments with Akira, making lockpicks or reading a book or any other quiet moment. There was something to be had in just being there, even if there was no conversation.

Once Minato had taken his final gulp of coffee, Morgana padded across the counter to stand by him, trying to get his attention. Only once he was sure he had the boy's gray eyes on him, he spoke. "Do you want to do anything today, Minato? You've been around the café so much lately, it might be nice to go out."

Minato looked at him for a long moment. "Do you want to go out?" As always, Morgana couldn't get much of a read on Minato's expression.

The words made his tail perk up unconsciously; he couldn't stifle the reaction. "Well, I wouldn't mind it." He'd been getting bored laying around all day in Leblanc.

Minato's lips quirked slightly, almost like he was holding back a laugh. But all he said was, "Okay."

"Hey! Are you laughing at me?" Morgana yowled indignantly, batting at Minato to show his displeasure.

"Never." Though his expression was stony, there was a glint in his eye that made Morgana bristle.

"You are, aren't you? What's so funny?!"

Minato huffed what sounded like a chuckle, then ruffled the fur on his head, prompting Morgana to let out a squawk. "Nothing. Where do you want to go?"

Morgana darted away from his hand and huffily smoothed out the fur on his head. He'd ignore the obvious subject change...but only because it seemed Minato's mood had finally improved again. "I don't mind. I just go wherever Akira goes."

A contemplative look snuck into Minato's eye. "Where does Kurusu-kun usually go?"

"Oh, he goes all sorts of places. He has the weirdest friends."

Minato was quiet for while. Morgana started to worry about what he was thinking about. Finally, Minato lifted his head and met Morgana's eyes again. "I want to go to where Kurusu-kun goes."

Surprised, Morgana frowned slightly. "I mean, sure. If that's what you want."

Minato nodded, more to himself than Morgana. "Yes. Please take me."

Morgana didn't entirely understand why Minato was interested in retracing Akira's steps, but he wasn't about to complain. Maybe he just wanted to learn some more about Tokyo, or about what Akira usually did with his time. Akira was pretty odd, after all.

"Okay," Morgana said. Then he looked Minato up and down. "But you'll need to grab a bag to carry me in so I can come with you."

Minato faltered. "Oh..."

Morgana flicked his tail dismissively. "Just grab one of Akira's. He won't mind."

Minato frowned. "...Are you sure?"

He hopped off of the counter and started to head upstairs again, talking all the while. "Yeah. He'd be happy you're going out. Besides, I go in his bags all the time." He'd been hoping walking away would force Minato into following him. As expected, shortly after he heard the boy's footsteps behind him.

"If you say so..." Minato's uncertain response barely reached his ears as they entered the attic together.

"I am," Morgana replied primly, trotting over to where Akira had left one of his bags. Just to encourage Minato even more, he tugged the bag out using his teeth and then hopped inside, fixing the boy with an expectant stare.

Hesitantly, Minato walked over and bent down, picking up the bag slowly. Morgana wasn't prepared for his clumsy technique, and meowed indignity. "Hey! Be gentle with me!"

"Sorry..." At least he sounded contrite. Following the apology, his motions were a little smoother. Finally, he had settled the bag over his shoulder like Akira would, and Morgana dared to poke his head out and lean over Minato's shoulder.

"Wow. You slouch more than Akira." It was easy to get a vantage looking over Minato's back.

Minato merely hummed in response and started heading downstairs. When Sojiro looked up from his crossword to see them heading toward the door, his lips quirked into a smile and one eyebrow raised. "Heading out?"

Minato put his hands into his pockets and shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah..."

Sojiro shook his head, seeming vaguely amused. "I'm not about to tell you you can't leave, kid. Don't be so tense." He looked back to his crossword. "Have fun and don't stay out too late."

"Okay, Boss." Minato wasn't looking, but Morgana saw the way Boss gave a pleased smile at that. Finally the boy was being a little less formal with him. Together they exited the café and emerged in the backstreets of Yongen-Jaya.

Morgana wracked his brains for an idea of where they should go. Obviously they needed to head into the city proper. Shibuya seemed to be an obvious choice. He popped his head out of the bag and spoke into Minato's ear. "We should take the train to Shibuya." And then he realized something and immediately felt a bit stupid. "Um, you don't happen to have a subway pass, do you?"

Minato shook his head.

Morgana sighed. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You'll have to use some of the money Akira gave you to buy a ticket."

"Okay." Minato seemed fairly unbothered, and Morgana realized that maybe he was fretting over him a little too much. After all, it wasn't as if Minato had never taken the subway on his own before. He'd even almost done it already, when he left after learning about Aragaki Shinjiro, so Morgana decided to stay quiet.

There was no incident as Minato bought himself a ticket for the subway and boarded the line bound for Shibuya. Quietly, they rode the train together. Morgana busied himself with thinking about where he should lead Minato. Maybe to the arcade? Did Minato enjoy that sort of thing? He'd liked gaming with Futaba...

The ride passed in blink, Morgana was so engrossed in his thoughts. Before he knew it, they were disembarking and emerging into Central Square, rivers of people parting around them as Minato idled uncertainly, clearly waiting for some sort of direction.

"What way?" Minato asked simply. The sea of pedestrians continued to treat him as a mere obstruction in their path.

“What about…” Morgana almost blurted out about the café on Central Street, before catching himself when he remembered Minato had just eaten. So then maybe he should...

"…The arcade!" Morgana blurted, twitching his tail restlessly. Okay, so he wasn't the greatest under this sort of pressure. But like he'd thought earlier, maybe Minato would like it...?

"There's an arcade on Central Street," he repeated, much more calmly. "Just head the same way you did when you and Akira went to the bookstore."

Minato nodded and started off with only slight hesitation. Though he didn't come from Tokyo, he moved through city crowds with relative ease, as if he fit right in. So unlike Akira, who'd been like a deer in headlights with all of the people at first.

Together they went down Central Street. The silence between them was comfortable, and Minato glanced around the shops as if it were the first time he were seeing them. Morgana supposed it almost was—this was the first time he'd went into the city by himself. When he'd been with Akira, he'd seemed more stressed about Akira's obvious discomfort than taking in the sights.

Luckily, Minato was indeed very competent and didn't really need any further directions to reach the arcade. He picked out its obvious signage and, after only a brief hesitation, headed in.

Immediately they were bombarded with the sounds of arcade machines and joyous laughter. Couples were gathered over by the crane games, while groups of young men were playing the shooters. Two young women were playing a dancing game on some machines toward the back wall.

Minato took in the crowd with curiosity. His eyes wandered the machines as if wondering where to start.

Morgana struck up casual conversation, as he so often did with Akira. "What type of games do you like, Minato?"

To his surprise, Minato shrugged. "I don't play many games."

"What? But didn't you play Super Smash Bros with Futaba?" Morgana's whiskers twitched, his version of a frown.

Minato hummed. "I'd never played that before."

For some reason, Morgana was troubled by the conversation. It gave him that same feeling, like he was treading on something dark—like he needed to step very lightly to avoid dredging up something painful. He wasn't sure why he felt that way, though.

He pushed through the sensation valiantly, not wanting to stay silent for too long. "Well, it's never too late to learn! Akira likes the shooting games. It really improves his gun skills in the Metaverse."

With consideration, Minato turned his eye toward the open arcade cabinet with guns holstered in front of it. From the looks of it, it was some sort of zombie-shooting game. Eventually he nodded slightly and then approached, gingerly picking up one of the toy guns and turning it back and forth. Then he fished out some coins from his pocket and inserted them into the machine.

The game got into the starting screen, and Minato squared up his stance. Right before the game began, he said, "You'll have to help, Morgana."

That got the cat's attention. "Huh?! How am I supposed to help you?"

"Please do your best."

Morgana didn't even have a chance to protest before the game was beginning, and suddenly he was yowling directions into Minato's ear.

"No, not that way!"

"Ah!! They're coming on your right!"

"Ooh, this one's tough!"

By the time they passed the first level, they'd gathered quite the crowd, and Morgana had forgotten completely about any uneasiness the day had started with. As the next level queued up, he found himself having fun.

"Be careful, Minato. The next one's starting." The boy responded with a sober nod, and they began again.

Minato's skills at the game were surprisingly good, despite having no prior experience, and it took them another two levels to run out of continues. By that point, Morgana was grinning—as much as he could grin in this form, at least—and even Minato had a little quirk of happiness to his lips.

That little smile was gone in a flash, though, as an unexpected (but familiar...) voice rang out.

"Hey, that was pretty good for a first solo attempt!"

Morgana could see Minato becoming more guarded as he turned to the speaker. "Thanks," the boy responded quietly as Morgana silently startled at the fact that the person who'd just so happened to approach them was none other than Shinya, one of Akira's many acquaintances. Out of all of the people in Tokyo, somehow Minato had managed to encounter someone Akira knew?

Morgana leaned over the boy's shoulder to reassure him. "You don't have to be so on edge, Minato. Shinya is someone Akira knows."

Morgana felt the stiffness of Minato's back abate slightly. "Oh."

Unfortunately, the reassurance didn't dispel any of the awkwardness surrounding them. Shinya frowned and shuffled, suddenly looking rather insecure. "Um, sorry if I surprised you. But...would you happen to know Kurusu-san? Sorry if it's a strange question, but his cat..." His eyes flicked over to Morgana.

"Oh, that makes sense!" Morgana thought out loud. "Shinya probably saw me in this bag and got curious why you weren't Akira."

The mention of Akira seemed to ease Minato's tension somewhat. "Oh. Yeah. I owe a lot to him."

That made Shinya's smile return. "I knew it! I know him, too! He's helped me out a lot. You kind of remind of him. Watching you play that game, it was like when I first met him. His technique was so unrefined, but under my tutelage he's gotten almost as good as me."

Minato seemed a bit amused by the boy's obvious bragging, but he didn't show it. "I see. It's thanks to you that Kurusu-kun is very good with guns. You must be really good." The way he said it all with such a serious voice almost made Morgana laugh.

It did the trick, though, and Shinya soaked up the compliments like a sponge. "I am. They call me the King. Lately, I've been trying not to spend all my time at the arcade, but I still have the skills. If you wanted, I could give you a few tips?"

At the boy's obvious excitement, Minato nodded along agreeably. "Sure."

"Great!" Shinya came up astride Minato, grabbing the gun for the second player with a flourish. Already he was entering his more intense 'gaming mode'. "Let's try to hit level five."

Minato nodded and grabbed the gun again, putting a few more coins into the machine. "I'm in your hands."

Morgana shook his head fondly at the solemnity of his words. This kid really was similar to Akira in some unexpected ways. That sense of humor wasn't quite the same, but it held a cheekiness that Morgana couldn't help but relate back to the other boy.

Shinya and Minato were a surprisingly good team. Minato was willing to treat even a mere arcade game with an almost ludicrous amount of seriousness, and so he and Shinya actually managed to get quite far on their first attempt. When they reached level six, they finally lost the last of their continues.

By the end, Shinya was beaming. "Hey, you're pretty damn good! Even Akira didn't get that good in just one session."

"It's because you're such a good example," Minato said seriously, and Shinya surprised him by huffing in annoyance.

"Listen, even I know when someone's trying to butter me up," he complained with an amusing little pout on his face.

Minato only smiled softly in response, unfazed. "You're just really good."

Surprised, Shinya flushed in embarrassment and ducked his head, hiding under the brim of his hat. "...Whatever."

That soft smile stayed on Minato's face, and Morgana felt himself begin to rest easy. If Minato could still smile so gently, he was going to be just fine.

——

They played a few more games together, and then Shinya excused himself with a hurried explanation about spending time with his mother. Minato nodded and wished him well, and they were alone again.

"He's a good kid." Minato was staring at where Shinya had just disappeared from.

Morgana was a bit surprised at Minato speaking unprompted, but saw no reason not to respond. "Yeah. He had some trouble with his mother, but Akira got the Phantom Thieves to change her heart. Ever since then, he's been a lot happier." His whiskers twitched as he observed the empty doorway to the arcade.

"I see." Morgana's gaze slid to the side to catch Minato's expression. The boy's eyes seemed to hold some indecipherable weight within them. "Kurusu-kun is truly a nice person."

The memory of Akira explaining how selfish he was for his altruism rose in Morgana's mind, unbidden. He didn't like the reminder of Akira's self-esteem not being as secure as he'd thought. For now, he pushed it aside, though it rested heavily at the back of his mind.

"...He is," Morgana finally said, heavier than he'd intended.

The silence that followed felt stifling. Trying to disperse the strange mood before it sunk in, Morgana leaned over Minato's shoulder and injected a lightness into his next words that he didn't feel. "Well, now that that's done, what did you wanna do now? You could go back to Leblanc now, but I think you've still got a little bit of time. Did you want to go somewhere else?"

Minato hummed and looked to the sky in thought. "I think...I want to keep going. He glanced at Morgana over his shoulder. "Where else does Kurusu-kun go?"

"Um..." Morgana racked his brain for a good idea. Maybe...since Minato had already explored around here... "There's a place in Shinjuku he goes."

"I've never been to Shinjuku."

"Well, why don't we go there, then?" Morgana flicked his tail-tip happily as the mood lightened again. "I'll lead the way."

——

They made it to the correct place in Shinjuku without any issue. Morgana had been here so often with Akira that he could easily recall the route—a fact which he took more than a little bit of pride in.

As they emerged into the square, Morgana noticed Minato glancing around with a dubious expression. "Isn't this a red-light district?" he eventually murmured, giving the signs around them a look.

Frowning in confusion, Morgana tilted his head at Minato. "What’s wrong?"

The boy gave him a long considering look. Then he turned away and shoved his hands in his pockets with a shrug. "Never mind."

Confused by the boy's sudden attitude, Morgana almost pressed further, but in the end decided to let it go. He had the feeling maybe this was one of those things he should already understand, and he didn't want to acknowledge what it meant that he didn't.

Minato started off on a leisurely pace down the street, taking in the solicitors and pedestrians alike with equal vague interest. It was difficult to tell if he was enjoying the atmosphere of Tokyo or if he was merely as neutral as always, but Morgana liked to think he was enjoying retracing Akira's steps, even if he didn't quite understand why.

It was that thought that prompted him to say, "Akira works at a bar here. It's always been a really good way for us to get information."

Minato didn't ask what exactly he meant by that. All he said was, "Kurusu-kun works a lot of jobs."

Morgana's whiskers twitched in amusement. "Oh, you noticed? Yeah, Akira is always busy. He's really built himself a fantastic web of confidants in Tokyo."

Minato hummed, about to say something else in response, when they were interrupted by a harried shout.

"Wait! You there!"

Minato turned his head towards the voice, and was met with the sight of a certain long-haired fortune teller reaching out to him from over her table. She was standing up, one hand braced against the table and the other stretched towards him imploringly. Morgana was surprised to see her looking so intense.

Upon catching Minato's attention, she spoke again, this time almost relieved. "Yes, you. My apologies for calling you so suddenly, but may I please read your fortune?" As if already warding off any skepticism, she hurried to say, "Not for a charge, of course! It's just that I noticed that you have a deeply tangled fate. For your sake, and my own curiosity, please allow me to read your fortune. I guarantee that this will lend you insight."

"That's Chihaya!" Morgana whispered into Minato's ear. "She's another one of Akira's contacts." Frowning, Morgana cocked his head and squinted at her in confusion. "It's a little weird that she wants to talk to you, though. Whatever she's seeing in your fate must be really, uh..."

"Concerning?" Minato offered quietly, though still with his usual nonchalance.

"Um, maybe. But Chihaya's fortunes aren't always true anymore. At least not when Akira's concerned."

"Her fortunes were ever true?"

Hearing the dubious edge to Minato's tone, Morgana hurried to explain. "Chihaya isn't a fake. She really can tell people's fates. She uses tarot to divine it, but her fortunes really do come true with a frightening accuracy. One time, she predicted exactly how much money Akira was going to stumble upon when he got home that day, and she was right! Talk about crazy."

Chihaya was still waving Minato over rather desperately.

"Maybe you should go talk to her," Morgana offered after Minato made no moves of his own. Probably feeling bad about it, Minato walked over without a word and started to pull out the chair opposite the woman.

"Apologies," she said again as Minato sat down, her tone finally relaxing into something civil. "I know it was rude of me to demand this, but I have never seen someone with such a tangled fate around them. I have only ever seen anything similar to this once, and even then, it was much more orderly than this." She scanned her eyes over Minato, as if looking beyond the physical. "When I look at you, I see a tangled mass of fates. Lines running parallel, intertwined, and still others are bound so tightly it's nearly one and the same. For someone so young, you appear to have lived a disproportionate amount of life."

If her intention was to lighten the mood at all, she didn't succeed; her words were much too true for that. However, it honestly seemed like she was truly just observing what was in front of her, with none of her own additional embellishments. It was simply a stroke of misfortune that the person she happened to be dealing with really had lived more than their fair lifetime. Or maybe it was more fair to say that his life had been paused?

The thought made Morgana feel more than a little uncomfortable. It hardly did justice to the strangeness, to the unfairness, of Minato's situation at all. Even if they still had no clue of what had really happened to him, it was clear from his amnesia and his death that life had dealt him a hand that was well beyond rigged against him.

Perhaps sensing the way her words had soured things, Chihaya hurried to keep talking. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you more uncomfortable. Sometimes I just get caught up in the cards." Giving Minato a slightly apologetic smile, she clasped her hands gently in front of her chest. "If you'd like, I can make it up to you by starting that reading now."

Hmph, always the salesman, Morgana thought with a flick of his ear. Even now, Chihaya's roots were showing themselves again.

"Okay," Minato replied indifferently. Chihaya nodded, undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm, and began to lay out the matrix of cards.

She closed her eyes and nodded again, reaching out and letting her hand hover over the first card. "Well then, let's begin without further ado." With that, she opened her eyes once more and began to reveal the fortune.

Chihaya pursed her lips, expression going from something easy to something nearing discomfort as she silently flipped the cards. After having turned several, she finally said, solemn and subdued, "Death looms closely over your shoulder. While this card sounds like a source of fear, it is more likely you will undergo a great upheaval soon. In a way, it can be a sign of rebirth." Despite her reassuring words, something felt strange about her delivery, as if her heart wasn't quite in it.

As if waiting for Minato's feedback, she paused for a long moment. When she received none, she went ahead and silently flipped an additional card. Upon revealing its face, she froze, eyes widening in near-comical surprise. "And the Fool..." In the next moment, her eyes narrowed, and she looked at Minato with suspicion. "Pardon my bluntness, but have you had contact with a certain Kurusu Akira lately?"

"You know Kurusu-kun?"

As if having all her suspicions confirmed, Chihaya huffed and frowned. "I see. Only his influence could have helped create such a mess of someone's fate. I should have known better than to think he wasn't involved in this."

"My life is very complicated," Minato said bluntly, appearing to cut off her train of thought, if her surprised face was any indication. "I don't think this has much to do with him."

Morgana himself couldn't help but be surprised. Minato so rarely offered up his own insight—and about his own strange situation, no less.

Frowning deeper, Chihaya shook her head. "No, I know his influence when I see it. The Fool is a sure sign he's twisting up peoples' fates again. My apologies, but I cannot guarantee the reliability of this reading if he is involved. That Kurusu-kun has a nasty habit of changing fates. Normally, my readings are never wrong. However, he doesn't like to follow the future laid out for him." She gave Minato an evaluating look, as if seeing him in a new light. "That tends to extend to those he comes in contact with, as well."

"Please continue," Minato said seriously, looking down at the cards laid out before them. "I want to know my future."

For a long moment, Chihaya simply stared at the cards, lips tightened unhappily. Then, she acquiesced with a, "Very well." With a crisp motion, she flipped the next card. "Judgment. There is a life-changing event that will occur to you soon. A rebirth of the Self, but that involves full acceptance of the change to be beneficial. You will need to let go of what's weighing you down, or you will remain at a crossroads. The past is the past, and the future is all that remains. If you wish to pull yourself from stagnancy, you must embrace this change and release yourself from the chains binding you. Only then will you find peace."

Over Minato's shoulder, Morgana gulped. "That's...heavy." It felt insufficient to express the pit in his stomach, yet it was all he could think to say. Chihaya's readings had never seemed quite so powerful. It was as if something in Morgana's soul knew the words were absolute.

Minato did not respond.

Chihaya flipped the remaining cards, and then fixed Minato with a solemn look. "Your fate is not absolute. Do not ignore these warnings. If you fail to take the final step forward, you will find yourself in an unbreakable cycle. The door to your future requires heavy sacrifice to pass through. Do not squander your future because you lack the strength to move forward. I urge you to think carefully about your decisions. Follow what you know is right, and your fate with resolve itself favorably. However, fail to do so, and this opportunity will never appear again. Remember that the past is immutable, but the future is malleable. Do not fall into the allure of what is long-gone."

From where he was, Morgana couldn't possibly see Minato's face. What sort of reaction was he having now? Was he believing any of this, or did he see it all as nonsense?

"I understand," Minato eventually replied, his words strangely distant. "Thank you very much."

"I can tell that you understand the gravity of your own situation," Chihaya told him, equally as serious as the words themselves. "Maintain that attitude, and I'm certain that your fate will resolve itself favorably." When she spoke next, her voice had brightened just a little, a small ray of hope amidst a sudden darkness. "Thank you for indulging this curiosity of mine. May your future be bright."

If Minato responded, Morgana didn't hear it. All he recognized was the motion of him getting up from the table and walking away. After they'd gone several paces in silence, Morgana finally dared to find his voice, popping out of the bag and up over the boy's shoulder.

"Minato...are you okay?" Morgana asked carefully, as if tasting each word on his tongue. Whatever Minato had understood—or was it failed to understand?—about that fortune had seemed to knock him right back into the strange funk from this morning.

"I'm okay." The words weren't exactly reassuring.

He tried a different tactic. "Do you believe in that fortune?"

Minato shrugged, eyes shadowed and made unreadable by his bangs. "I don't know."

"I mean, it was a good fortune in the end, right?" Morgana asked uncertainly. When the boy didn't respond, Morgana found himself flicking his tail in agitation. "You want it to come true, don't you?"

Minato didn't respond immediately. When he did, his voice was soft. "I don't know. She didn't seem too sure."

When Minato wasn't looking at him, it was hard to gauge his feelings. His tone was always so neutral. Morgana tried to keep himself from pricking his shoulder with his claws as he anxiously kneaded into his jacket. "Do you think she was worried about what might happen to you?"

Minato didn't respond.

After a moment, Morgana tried again, feeling a little sick. "Are you worried what might happen to you?"

Again, Minato was silent.

The silence would have been better than his eventual answer.

"...Yeah."

Swallowing around his sudden anxiety, Morgana opened up his mouth, fighting to get the words out. They still emerged steeped in uncertainty, halting and anxious. "Does this...have anything to do with the nightmare you had the other day?" He was acutely aware that he might be overstepping his bounds. Minato was a very private person, and he'd seemed like he'd tried to keep it a secret from Akira. Little had he known, though, that Morgana had awoken ten minutes earlier due to Minato's tossing and turning.

As expected—though he'd hoped otherwise—Minato's gaze grew shuttered. But still, he answered. "You knew?"

Uncomfortably, Morgana came clean. "Sorry for eavesdropping. I didn't mean to."

"It's okay," Minato said, though he didn't continue.

Morgana felt somewhat obligated to push harder, though it made him feel a bit mean. "What was it about? ...You sounded really scared when you woke up."

"I don't know."

For some reason, a prickle ran down Morgana's spine, the fur on his back standing up in response. "You...don't know?" Maybe it was the way Minato's eyes were a bit glassy, but the words unsettled his heart. While he didn't believe Minato was actively lying to him, at the same time he felt like there was something lurking in his eyes. Like maybe he knew but didn't know at the same time.

"I don't know," Minato repeated, sounding faraway. "It was a warning, I think. Or maybe it was nothing."

Concern only bloomed higher in Morgana's heart. "A warning? About what?"

"Something." The unhelpfulness of his response made Morgana want to hiss in frustration. It'd been obvious so far that Minato held some strange link to the Metaverse, but they hadn't been able to get any true idea of what it was. This conversation was the closest they'd gotten to unraveling the mystery, Morgana could feel it, and Minato was being just as vague as ever.

But the boy wasn't done.

"It's hunting," he murmured, almost inaudible.

A chill permeated through Morgana's whole body, an intense feeling of foreboding spreading through his limbs like tar. "...Hunting what?"

For some reason, he'd hesitated to ask the question, as if something in him was fearing the conversation itself. Morgana had no idea why he felt this way, but he knew down to his bones that this thing was bad news.

Unfortunately, Minato didn't heed his silent call. His response was a one-word nail in the coffin. "Me."

Frighteningly, that answer was the one that Morgana found he'd been expecting.

Just as Morgana was about to open his mouth to ask another question, the buzzing of Minato's phone cut him off. Vaguely curious, Minato fished it out of his pocket and unlocked it, immediately navigating to the group chat.

Ryuji: yo there's some weirdass lady in Leblanc

Akira: Okay??? We DO get actual customers Ryuji.

Ann: no no for once Ryuji's right, she's super weird

Ryuji: HEY

Ann: boss is like, weirdly on edge right now

Ann: I think maybe she's come in before? Boss kinda seems like he's seen her before

Akira: what do you mean?

Akira: actually, never mind. I'm on my way back now

Futaba: please and thank you, I'm at the bartop and she's very threatening ;-;

Futaba: I need my key item!!!

Makoto: Haru and I are also on our way over. We just finished up and are about to board the train.

Makoto: Has anyone talked to Minato?

Minato: i'm with Morgana. we went out.

Ann: oh, Minato! Good to hear you're feeling better!!!

Minato: yeah

Over his shoulder, Morgana was eyeing his texts and frowning. "A weird lady in Leblanc? Sounds pretty strange to me. That blockhead Ryuji might overreact, but not Lady Ann, too." Without thinking, he gripped his claws into the fabric of Minato's shirt a little more tightly. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like they were on the edge of something big.

Minato: should I come back?

Makoto: Yes, please. I think it would be for the best. I have a strange feeling about this, and I think we might want to have a meeting about everything that's happened thus far.

Minato: ok

Minato: i'll head back now

Yusuke: I am also on my way over. I will be there soon.

With the conversation ended, Minato pocketed his phone again. From his position on his shoulder, Morgana could feel the tension in his body, like a spring wound tight. Maybe Minato could also feel the strange atmosphere of importance right now.

"Minato...no matter what happens, we're your friends now, right?"

Minato turned his head to give Morgana a vaguely confused look over his shoulder. "Are you worried?"

Morgana tried and failed to keep his fur flat. His ears pinned back to his head as he lost out to the gnawing feeling of anxiety churning within him. "I just...have a really weird feeling about all of this." Morgana leaned over his shoulder to meet his eyes, with his own so clear and blue, like glinting stones of azure. "Will you promise that you won't forget about us?"

Something flickered behind Minato's visible eye. Morgana failed to decipher it before it was gone again.

"Yes. I promise."

Morgana swallowed down his unease and nodded once, briefly, reassuringly. "Okay. Good." With that, he gave Minato a much more steady look of determination. "Okay. Let's go back to Leblanc and figure out what's going on. If we hurry, we should be back in twenty minutes."

The silence between them this time was more uncomfortable, heavy with Morgana's lingering unease. He hated to project his feelings on this so transparently, but he just couldn't set his heart at ease. All of this reeked of...something, and Morgana wanted to know what. Ever since finding Minato, he'd had this strange feeling that he couldn't pin down, persistent and nagging at the back of his mind.

It almost felt like...he was forgetting something.

Without his conscious say-so, his mind cast back to where they'd found Minato back in that dream-space. Somewhere between mind and matter, between dream and reality, between the conscious and unconscious. That wasn't even mentioning that door, the lingering sense of dread and horror that it gave him. He wasn't sure why, but every instinct screamed danger at the sight of it. He knew it in his bones the same way he simply knew facts about the Metaverse despite his amnesia, as if it'd been hardcoded into his being.

That was a strange thought. Morgana shook his head to clear it and focused instead on watching the scenery fly by as they hurtled back towards Yongen-Jaya.

By the time Minato had exited at the right station, Morgana felt about to burst from anxious tension. He hated it, this feeling of anxiety with no source or outlet, but there was nothing he could do. It felt they were about to tumble into the inevitability of fate.

That was another one of those strange thoughts. Disconcerted, Morgana's fur pricked on end, and he remained uncharacteristically silent as Minato approached the entrance to Leblanc. Morgana tried fruitlessly to convince himself that there wasn't some sort of monster waiting beyond that door.

It felt like it took an eternity for Minato to grab the handle and turn. Morgana waited with bated breath for the interior of the café to become visible.

Once it did, though, Morgana couldn't help but let out a relieved breath. All the Phantom Thieves sat accounted for in the booth and along the bar. They turned to face the door as the bell rung their arrival. Morgana almost failed to notice the foreign presence among the Thieves, up until the woman turned and fixed them with electric blue eyes.

Right before Morgana's eyes, he saw her gaze snap from bland curiosity to something much different. Her eyes pinned wide in an instant, and the sound of shattering glass resounded through the café as her coffee cup fell to the floor. Coffee splattered everywhere, punctuated by fine shards of glass that seemed to hang in the air as the moment stretched in time.

"Minato?"