Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Haru approached the towering spire that was the Okumura Foods Headquarters, swallowing a wave of apprehension. Despite the fact that the sun had sunk beneath the horizon over an hour ago, the building was still aglow with light – it would have been beautiful if a treacherous part of Haru’s mind hadn’t whispered even the office workers are made to toil into the night.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts as she continued walking towards her destination. While Haru knew the pristine skyscraper should feel like a second home to her – it had at one point, a long time ago – the closer she got, the more the looming sense of dread within her grew and grew. The second she finished climbing the stairs to the plaza at the building’s entrance she came to a stop, as it finally dawned on her how stupid she was being.

When she’d gotten home from school that afternoon, the housekeeper had informed her that her father would be working late into the night. Inspiration had struck her then – perhaps she could drop off a nice, warm homemade dinner between his meetings. A pleasant surprise to break up a monotonous day. (More selfishly, it was a chance for her to see him without Sugimura’s spectre looming overhead, figuratively or literally).

She’d spent all evening lovingly preparing two boxes of bento, but now that Haru was here, the hope she’d felt that afternoon shrivelled up and died in her stomach. This was a terrible idea. Even if her father wasn’t in the middle of a meeting when she arrived, he was probably far too busy with the company to spare Haru even a second thought. There was all that negative – justified – press they’d gotten lately, and that wasn’t even mentioning his hopes of transitioning into politics. Her presence would be nothing but a hindrance.

(Even if he did deign to see her, it would be as Okumura Kunikazu, CEO, not Kunikazu, doting father, and it was only the latter that she missed so deeply it hurt. As guilty as it made her feel, Haru didn’t much care for the former at all.)

(She wasn’t a very good daughter. Perhaps that was why he was selling her off like a slab of meat.)

Turning on her heel, Haru walked away. Head bowed, it was a sheer miracle she caught sight of a black blur in the corner of her eye. Turning around, Haru’s brows rose as she saw a delightfully cute cat running down the street.

“Huh…? That kitty…” The brunette rubbed her chin, frowning.

This was a business district, not a residential one, and judging by its glossy fur, the cat was clearly a pet. While she knew some people let their animals wander, this wasn’t a safe place for a pet – the roads were busy, the visibility low, and the peoples’ temper and patience short. If someone’s beloved family member got hurt because of her lack of action, Haru would never forgive herself.

(Her father’s actions already made her feel dirty enough.)

Mind made up, she spun back around and chased after the cat.

…..

Sae drummed her fingers on the wheel of her car, crimson eyes narrowed to slits as she glared across the road at the Okumura Foods Headquarters. The psychotic breakdowns, mental shutdowns, and Phantom Thieves… all signs pointed at Okumura, but there simply wasn’t any damn evidence. At least, no evidence she’d be able to get without a warrant, and the second she ordered one of those, Okumura would scrub all traces of his crimes from the face of this earth.

(She wasn’t naïve enough to think that he didn’t have connections in the police. There was a reason she’d rather liaise with Akechi than any of those pigs.)

Still, while the Detective Prince wasn’t corrupt, sometimes he made it abundantly clear that he was just a kid. He still believed they’d be able to win this case by treating it like any other investigation, even though that obviously wasn’t working. No, if she going to claim victory over Okumura and the Phantom Thieves, Sae would need… a less conventional approach. And she was going to win.

(Her superiors were relying on her, after all. Makoto was relying on her).

The real question, though, was what that approach should be. While she knew some of her colleagues weren’t above forging evidence, Sae simply didn’t know enough about Okumura and the Phantom Thieves' methods to risk it all with a stunt like that. She needed to play her cards cautiously. She needed more information.

It was then, however, that Sae was snapped out of her musings as a cat raced across the street, followed by a panting teenage girl. The prosecutor blinked, caught off guard by the strange sight. As she examined the girl, she frowned. While they’d never met in person, Sae recognised her as Okumura Haru, the one and only heir to the corporate conglomerate stationed right before them. Gears spinning in her mind, Sae’s breath caught in her throat. This could be just the opportunity she needed.

Stepping out of her car, she fell into step behind the teen.

…..

Haru winced, rubbing her head as her vision blacked out. Thankfully, the strange fit passed before she had the time to feel worried about it. Admittedly, even if it hadn’t, she would have quickly forgotten about it in light of what she saw once colour returned to her sight. Instead of standing in the square in front of Okumura Foods, she stood on a strange, circular platform made from some unknown metal that glowed like circuitry. Thick tubes rose from the ground, and a large terminal hovered overhead, the words Big Bang Burger circling around it in holographic letters. In the distance, strangely shaped buildings reached into the heavens, but Haru was distracted from them as she saw a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye - the cat, most likely. She was then distracted from that, however, as a voice suddenly echoed behind her.

“What on earth…?”

Glancing over her shoulder, Haru’s eyes landed on a woman standing several metres behind her. She wore a sharp suit and high heels that would fit seamlessly amongst the businesspeople that populated the district, though the woman was far too young – far too female – to be one of her father’s men. While she carried herself with a poise Haru could only dream of possessing, her wide eyes and stupefied expression matched how the heiress was feeling to a tee. Quite frankly, it was a bit of a relief – it made the woman feel human in a world that was decisively not.

Speaking of that, Haru turned back to her surroundings. The platform she was standing on led to a balcony, and tentatively, the Okumura heiress walked onto it. Grabbing the railings so tightly her knuckles grew white, her jaw hung loosely at the sight that greeted her. It was a city unlike anything she’d ever seen. Strange, oblong towers rose out of a deep void Haru couldn't even see the bottom of. Myriads of blue lights dotted them like stars and holographic words spun around them like a carousel, though they were too far away for Haru to read them. Looking upwards, the obelisks were protected from the elements by a glass dome, and what she saw beyond it made her blood freeze in her veins. It was a planet. A very familiar planet.

“I’m not entirely sure we are on Earth, actually.” Haru's jaw hung agape. Because if they were, she couldn’t be staring at it right now.

Cautiously, the woman joined her side, pinching her arm as she saw the ocean-dotted planet hanging in the sky. “This… this can’t be real. I’m seeing things.” She muttered, more to herself than Haru. “Goddammit – I suppose this is a good lesson not to combine eight shots of espresso with two all-nighters…”

“Um, well, while I don’t think either of those things are very good for you, I’m very much seeing this too.” Haru reassured her (though perhaps that was too strong of a word). “Unless we’re somehow hallucinating the same thing at the same time, but… I think that’s somewhat unlikely.”

Besides, Haru was pretty sure you couldn’t have tactile hallucinations – at least, not ones this vivid. She doubted the sterile air on her skin or the cold metal bars under her fingers were purely figments of her imagination.

It seemed the heiress’ assurances actually managed to do the job, as some of the naked shock slipped off her companion’s face and was replaced with something more analytical. (Perhaps Haru had seen this woman before, actually – there was something about her expression that felt very familiar.)

“Is this some sort of VR or simulation?” She questioned, eyes narrowed. “No, it can’t be – it’s far too advanced…” Her assessing gaze then landed on Haru. “Do you have any idea what this place is?”

“M-me?” The teenager stammered.

Silently, the woman pointed back at the terminal, where her father’s company logo was still looping endlessly. Haru took in a deep breath. Ah. So, this woman knew who she was. The brunette pushed her discomfort to the side – as much as she hated being painted with the same brush as the rest of the company, considering the circumstances, it wasn’t entirely unjustified.

“… No. If this is something my father is involved with, he’s never mentioned it to me.”

“I suppose that’s fair enough.” The woman frowned, but thankfully, the furrow of her brow was more disconcerted than judgemental. “Just what going on here…?”

It was then that something stirred in Haru’s stomach – namely, intrigue. Glancing around, her eyes settled on a small metal plinth underneath the terminal. Approaching it, she saw a lever poking out of its side and when she examined the floor at its base, there was a break in the latticework, separating it from the rest of the platform. An idea kindled in her mind.

“Why don’t we find out?” Haru suggested, and as the woman approached, she pulled the lever down.

The silver-haired lady let out a startled yelp as the ground around them rumbled, before rapidly beginning to descend. If Haru was the exuberant sort, she’d have jumped around with joy. She knew it was a lift!

After an eon, the cylindrical platform reached its destination, and Haru skipped out into an underground room. There was a long window at its far end, but it was shuttered, and holographic data pads that could have been taken straight out of a movie hovered in front of it. As Haru’s companion tentatively approached her side, the brunette looked left and right. The room lead into two pathways, both sealed by bulky hanger doors. The first one she checked didn’t react to her presence at all, but the second opened wide as she approached.

“Okumura-chan, I’m not sure if this is a good idea…” The woman bit her lip, but despite her clear reservations, followed Haru down the winding hallway anyway.

If Haru thought she was done with surprises for the day, she was wrong. The corridor brought them onto a raised platform overseeing what looked like a factory storage room. It was not people scurrying about, lugging hefty containers to-and-fro, but robots. Identical worker drones hurried about, as a lanky machine with shining red plating watched over them like an overseer.

She wasn’t sure why, but as her eyes remained glued to the robots every hair on the back of her neck prickled, and Haru’s stomach churned in discomfort. There was something terribly, terribly wrong going on here, beyond the obvious.

The brunette had no time to ponder what that was though, as the door suddenly opened up behind the duo, and a mechanical voice screeched across the factory like a gunshot.

“INTRUDER ALERT! INITIATE EXTERMINATION PROTOCOL!”

…..

Sae’s breath caught in her throat as she saw a trio of robots cutting off their escape route. Until the almost cartoonish humanoid figures below them, they were a strange, cylindrical shape, and wafts of glowing red energy drifted off them like embers. Sae didn’t know what would happen if they caught them, but it damn well wouldn’t be good.

She grabbed Okumura’s forearm and hissed. “Run.”

Thankfully, it was not a command she needed to repeat. The brunette bolted around the corner, Sae following in pursuit. Glancing over her shoulder, the prosecutor cursed. The killer robots (she was getting chased by fucking killer robots) were gaining on them, and fast. Stumbling, she bit her lip. If only she’d worn practical shoes today – her heels were not helping. Seeing no other course of action, she turned around and wasted several precious seconds of time she did not have slipping them off.

“W-watch out!” Okumura yelled, panic audible in the young heiress’ voice as one of the robots lunged at Sae, but the prosecutor paid her no heed.

Years of martial arts training kicked in, and Sae slammed one of her shoes into the mask-like protrusion jutting out of the drone’s face. Her heel snagged into its eye socket, and while her shoe broke as Sae pulled it away, it ripped the machine’s head off in the process. Oddly enough, the robot melted into dark particles, but Sae paid it no heed. Instead, she chucked her remaining shoe at one of the other machine's faces, before sprinting after Okumura.

Dashing out of the viewing platform and into a large hall, both of them ignored the floating holograms in its centre in favour of bolting towards the first door they saw. For half a second, a horrified Sae was convinced the solid slab of iron was going to remain shut, but thankfully, an electronic voice droned in the background as the bulky metal door rumbled open.

“AUTHENTICATING… ACCESS GRANTED.”

Running through it, Sae was about to race down a corridor at random, but then she noticed Okumura wasn’t following her. Instead, the girl lingered by the security door, hand pressed down on a button by its side.

“What are you doing?! We don’t have the time for that!” The prosecutor snapped.

“But if we close the door…”

“They’ll just open it again in a second! If we can gain access, anyone can!” 

Okumura frowned but didn’t complain as Sae grabbed her hand and dragged her down the hall. Unfortunately, the second they reached an intersection, half a dozen more of the robots suddenly appeared from around the corner, accompanied by several floating security drones. Sae quickly backpedalled out of their field of vision, but it was too late.

“INTRUDERS LOCATED. COMMENCING PURSUIT PROTOCOL.”

Skin pale, Sae glanced backwards, and blanched as she saw the robots she’d battled before still following in hot pursuit. That meant there was only one pathway left – the one to the right. Racing down it, Sae prayed it would lead them to safety. Their footsteps echoed against the iron floor as the windows overlooking the futuristic city passed them in a blur - neither woman had the time to focus on their surroundings. As Sae's thighs began to burn and her every breath was reduced to a wheezing gasp, though, she grimly realised they needed to find somewhere safe, and fast. The only thing keeping her afloat was adrenaline, and while Okumura was thankfully keeping up with her pace, the teen probably wouldn't last much longer either.

As they rounded the corner, the hallway came to an end, capped off with yet another heavy plate door. This time though, when Sae approached it, it remained firmly shut. Cold dread ran through the prosecutor as she looked for a button, a key card reader, anything, to no avail. It took all her self-restraint not to burst out into hysterical laughter. She couldn’t believe it. She was going to be killed by literal robots in some alien hellscape with no one but a complete and utter stranger at her side, all because she wanted to get some bloody evidence.

Sae was snapped out of her panicked spiralling as Okumura suddenly tugged on her sleeve. While sweat dripped down the girl's brow, her brown eyes were determined as she pointed at a ledge along the corridor’s side. “Over here – it’s not too high. If you give me a boost, I think I’ll be able to help lift you up once I'm on top.”

The prosecutor frowned – there was a good chance the girl would just ditch her the second she got to safety, but then again, it wasn’t like Sae had anything left to lose. As a mechanical rumbling began to echo down the hallway, she gave Okumura a curt nod. “Fine.”

To Sae's surprise, Okumura kept her word, and pulled the prosecutor up alongside her with a surprising amount of upper body strength considering her small frame. She wasn’t a moment too soon, either. Both women had barely managed to flatten themselves into the small alcove’s corner when their pursuers came trundling into the hallway beneath them. Sae’s breath caught in her throat and her guts twisted with worry, but the robots went straight past their prey as the door that had blocked the two women's progress opened up for the machines.

The second the door closed behind their pursuers, Sae’s shoulders slumped as she let out a gasp of relief. That was close. Far too close.

For a while, they simply sat there, recovering their breath. As the grey walls pressed in claustrophobically around her, Sae realised she didn’t have a bloody clue which direction they’d come from. In amongst their terror, they’d gotten hopelessly, hopelessly lost.

Silently, Okumura reached into the bag she had slung over her shoulder and passed a box to Sae. “Well, that was unpleasant. Would you like a bento?”

Chapter Text

It took three days for people to realise Okumura Haru and Niijima Sae were missing.

The first warning sign was a message from Shujin to the Okumura’s housekeeper, the day after both women were last seen – young Haru hadn’t shown up to class. The housekeeper hemmed and hawed, but upon seeing the heiress’ room was empty, she swallowed her uncertainly and called her father’s office.

“… Haru’s school?” Okumura Kunikazu curled his lip. “I don’t care – don’t contact me about such a trivial matter again.”

The CEO hung up his phone before promptly returning to work. If Haru wanted to play truant, that was her prerogative. It was hardly like she needed to go to the damn place anyway. She’d be marrying Sugimura at the end of this year, and serving her family as a dutiful mother and wife, like all young women should.

Kunikazu didn't even notice it when his daughter didn’t return home that evening, or the next. He was busy preparing for the launch of his new campaign and didn’t have the time to spare for something trivial like family. No, he only realised Haru’s absence was an issue when he received another call – this time, from Sugimura.

“Your damned daughter’s ignoring me again.” The redhead spat out, before his voice evened out into something calmer but infinitely more cloying. “A good wife should be at her husband’s beck and call, don’t you think?”

Fury blazed through Kunikazu as his lips thinned. “Yes, she should be. Don't fret – I’ll correct my daughter’s errant ways. By the time your wedding comes, I’m sure she’ll be… compliant.”

“I’m certain you won’t let me down.” Sugimura purred, before hanging up.

Incensed, the CEO immediately dialled his daughter’s number. Instead of the ringtone or her soft voice, however, he was answered by an electronic message.

“Your call could not be connected – please check the number and try again…”

Furrowing his brow, he called home – the housekeeper had mentioned Haru was playing hooky, right? Thankfully, Kunikazu had far more luck getting in contact with his staff. When he enquired about Haru’s status, however, the answer was not what he expected.

“No, sir. I haven’t seen Lady Haru for several days, and nor has she gone to school.”

For a second, a flash of worry sparked in Kunikazu’s chest, but it was quickly replaced with something else – rage. She’d run away, hadn’t she? Chosen her body and her freedom above his company, his career, and made a fool out of him in the process. Without this wedding, Kunikazu would never get the backing of Sugimura and his (very powerful) family – his political dreams would be dead before they’d even gotten off the ground.

Traitor. A dark part of Kunikazu’s mind hissed, equally as enraged as it was intrigued. He never thought his daughter had it in her. Still, that didn’t matter – the Okumura motto was one of betrayal, yes, but of the lower-class riff-raff, not each other. The CEO would find Haru, and she would regret this act of childish fancy.

Hanging up on the housekeeper, he jotted down a quick memo to fire the useless woman, before ringing another number – that of the SIU Director.

“My apologies for the sudden call.” Kunikazu’s voice was polite, but his words had a deadly undertone. “I’m here to call in a favour…”

…..

When Makoto didn’t hear from Sae for several days in a row, she thought nothing of it. Her sister had been busy – been pulling away from her – for a while now. Sure, it was a bit odd that Sae hadn’t even bothered sending a cursory text telling Makoto she wouldn’t be home for dinner, but it was hardly unheard of.

She only realised something was horrifically wrong when the Niijima’s landline suddenly started ringing mid-breakfast. Makoto jolted in surprise – it had been years since anyone had called that phone.

“Hello, Niijima residence-”

“Where the HELL are you?!” An unfamiliar voice yelled over the line. “I told you I wanted the data for the Shimura case on my desk first thing this morning!”

Makoto cleared her throat, her initial shock at the sudden shouting fading into a combination of confusion and annoyance. “Um, I’m sorry, but I believe you’ve got the wrong person. It’s Niijima Makoto speaking.”

“… Oh, the sister.” The speaker murmured, before clearing his throat. “Tell Niijima to quit painting her nails and get over here. Or at least answer her bloody phone! Women, I swear…”

Without further ado, the man hung up. For several seconds Makoto stood still as the dial tone beeped in her ear, eyes narrowing in distaste. What a misogynistic prick. Her anger quickly evaporated though, replaced by concern. Sae was obsessed with loved her job. She’d probably fistfight the devil himself if he tried to stop her from going to work. Therefore, if Sae was running late, something had to be wrong.

Walking to her sister’s room, Makoto poked her head inside. While the bed was unmade – Makoto had to smother down her instinctive urge to tuck in Sae’s sheets – there were no signs of life. Her phone hadn’t been left on her charger, and when Makoto traced her fingers over Sae’s pillow, it was cold. All it took was a quick glance down the hallway to verify her suspicions – Sae’s shoes weren’t in the rack. Wherever she was, it wasn’t here, and more importantly, she’d been gone for a while.

Her stomach churned, concern escalating into worry. Marching back to her bedroom, Makoto fetched her phone off her bedside table and called her sister. The second she hit the dial button, however, an automated voice told Makoto this number was currently unavailable. A shiver ran down Makoto’s spine and all the hairs on the nape of her neck rose up. It was official – her worry had become fear.

Panicked, she scrolled through her contacts and called a number her sister had given her but she’d never actually thought she’d ring.

“Hello, Akechi speaking! Who is this?”

“It’s Niijima Makoto.” While even on a good day the Detective Prince had a habit of getting on her nerves, right now, her voice was terse for an entirely different reason. “Do you know where Sae is?”

“… No, sorry. I haven’t seen her for several days.” Akechi’s attitude audibly shifted into something far more serious. “Is she alright?”

“I… I don’t think she is.”

…..

Ren had been having a shitty week. Firstly, the principal had carked it, then the Phantom Thieves couldn’t reach a consensus about whether they should handle Okumura, and then Morgana had abandoned the group after getting into a blow-up argument with Ryuji.

He had no idea things were about to get worse.

His phone dinged during English class and after making sure Chouno was distracted, he pulled it out, ignoring how weird it felt to grab it from his desk without shuffling through fur. Ren wasn’t too surprised to see it was the Phantom Thieves group chat – they were planning on going into Okumura’s Palace that afternoon, after all, in the hope of finding Morgana.

(In the hope of making sure he was still alive.)

Makoto: Sorry, but I won’t be able to make it tonight.

Makoto: It’s sis.

Makoto: She’s… she’s missing.

Ren’s blood ran cold as a heavy lump settled into his stomach. While he admittedly didn’t have a particularly favourable view of Makoto’s sister after that stunt she’d pulled with Sojiro’s custody, he knew how much Makoto cared for her. More importantly, he knew someone investigating something like the mental shutdowns going missing was a bad sign.

Ren: Are you alright?!

Makoto: Not particularly. The police are interviewing me this afternoon.

Yusuke: How horrid. I hope Niijima-san is well.

Ryuji: dude, is there anything we can do to help?

Makoto: Actually… I was wondering if there was anything you could do to track her, Futaba?

Futaba: dw already on it

An eternity seemed to pass before the hacker replied.

Futaba: ugh, no good. she was in the business district tuesday evening, but her phone loses connection there

Makoto: Thank you for trying. At least it’s something…

Ann: hey… would you like us to come to the station with you?

Ann: I know we can’t go into the interview room or anything, but we can at least give you some moral support.

Ren swallowed his misgivings about being within a ten-foot radius of anything even vaguely law enforcement related, and texted the chat.

Ren: Agreed. We’re with you every step of the way, Queen.

Makoto: I’d appreciate that a lot. Thank you, everyone.

The teen sensed more than saw Chouno look in his direction, and he quickly stashed his phone away. Sorry, Morgana – please, just hold in there a little while longer…

…..

Sae had absolutely no idea what the time was, or how long she and Haru - the Okumura heiress had insisted Sae used her first name, and considering the circumstances, Sae couldn’t blame her - had been trapped in the spaceport for. Between her overall disorientation and the perpetually black sky beyond the dome surrounding them, Sae didn’t even know if it was day or night. Those weren’t the only reasons she was completely and utterly temporally lost, however. Despite knowing it had at a bare minimum been half a day since she’d stumbled into this nightmarish labyrinth, Sae felt no hunger or thirst. Sure, Haru’s bento had perked her up a bit – the teen was far more gifted in the kitchen than either Niijima sister – but at the same time, it hadn’t felt necessary. She had no idea what to make of that, and after several increasingly unsettling theories, Sae decided she was just going to not think about it.

(It was how she dealt with most of her problems that had no immediate solution. How effective it was… varied.)

“Oh, look!” Haru gasped, a hint of wonder shining in her eyes. Honestly, Sae had no idea how she could feel an emotion like that in this hellhole. “It’s a treasure chest!”

“… Excuse me?” Sae wrinkled her nose.

They’d attempted to backtrack through the station in hopes of finding the way out, but unfortunately, given both of them had prioritised escaping killer robots over paying attention to their surroundings, it was a far harder task than it should have been. It was also one they’d abandoned too when they almost stumbled into a line of said robots on their way to what they guessed might be the exit.

Currently, the women were theoretically looking for a safe place to recoup, but it seemed Haru had other ideas. Halting in her tracks, the brunette pointed to a pedestal nestled between some holographic trees. It turned out she was right – for some reason, there was a faintly sparking iron chest balanced deliberately on top of it. Sae blinked. Why the hell is there a treasure chest in a space station?

It was so incongruous, as Haru stepped towards it, Sae felt a flash of alarm. “Be careful – it could be a trap!”

When the Okumura heiress opened it though, no alarms went off. Instead, she reached inside and plucked out something small.

“Oh!” Haru frowned, excitement rapidly fading. “It’s… ointment.”

“… You should probably put that back.” Sae sighed. God knows she didn’t trust any strange substances found in this place.

Reluctantly, Haru returned her ill-gotten loot to where it belonged.

Good. At least she knows how to follow orders.

Sae froze, every hair on the back of her neck rising. For a second, she swore she’d heard a voice. Shaking her head, the prosecutor took in a deep breath – if she lost her cool (again), it could mean death. Healthy paranoia would keep her safe – unjustified paranoia would not.

“Come on – let’s keep moving. I don’t want to stay out in the open any longer than we have to.” Sae commanded, but despite her level-headed façade, she still felt unsettled.

It turned out her unease wasn’t unjustified – a mechanical whirring echoed down the hall, and if she and Haru hadn’t quickly ducked behind some furniture, they would have been directly in the line of sight of a robot that turned around the corner. Holding her breath, several tense seconds passed as the construct’s head swivelled, before it turned around and left the way it came. Her mouth set into a thin line, and at her side, Haru’s prior levity had faded at the grim reminder they were not safe. Creeping quietly through the metallic halls, eventually, the duo ended up back at the ledge they’d started their failed escape attempt from.

“… What should we do now?” Haru asked as they climbed back to relative safety. “If the entrance is blocked off…”

Sae mulled it over. “Maybe we should wait things out – perhaps they’ll disperse once they’ve deemed us no longer a threat…”

The words felt hollow in her mouth, however. It had been ages since they were last spotted by the machines, and even if hunger and thirst hadn’t caught up to the prosecutor yet, it was only a matter of time. Adrenaline was a poor substitute for a hearty meal and a good night’s rest – Sae was really beginning to regret her lack of the latter over the last few days. Admittedly, it wasn’t like that was her choice, but this situation was already bad enough without her brain feeling like mush.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by a clank. Glancing to her side, the silver-haired woman saw Haru removing the cover of a nearby vent.

“What are you doing?” Sae queried, her stress adding a harsh edge to her voice.

Impassively, Haru looked her way. “I think there’s space for us to climb through here, and I can see a light coming from the other end. It should lead to the other side of the door.”

The first thought that came to Sae’s mind was why, but the answer to that question dawned on her almost as quickly. “… You think there might be another escape route deeper in?”

“It’s possible.” Haru furrowed her brow. “Admittedly, this place doesn’t follow normal building practises, but a city of this size should have at least more than one exit.”

“Well, it’s better than just waiting here.” Sae sighed. “Let’s go.”

…..

The longer Haru stayed in the labyrinthian spaceport the more fantastical it got, but at the same time, she slowly started to adjust to the bizarre internal logic of the realm. After creeping through the eerie server room the air vent had brought them to, and messing with the doors’ locks, the strange pair finally got access to the rest of the facility.

And what a facility it was.

The first area they ventured into was a winding series of corridors and offices that could have been taken straight out of Okumura Foods, if it wasn’t for the futuristic twist. The small, human-shaped drones Haru had seen by the spaceport’s entrance puttered about, lugging heavy boxes around and typing away at glowing blue terminals. While they appeared significantly less frequently, they were occasionally joined by lankier robots or bulky ones that almost could have been bodybuilders (or whatever the mechanical equivalent of them was, anyway).

Haru almost thought they were cute until she heard what they were saying.

“I-I-I’M FALLING APART…”

“I WON’T BE ABLE TO BECOME A REAL ADULT UNLESS I CAN PUSH THROUGH THIS.”

“EVERYTHING WE DO IS FOR THE SAKE OF OKUMURA FOODS! THOSE WHO CANNOT KEEP UP WILL BE DISPOSED OF.”

It was a running theme – the smaller robots worked until they dropped, while the bigger ones droned on and on about the glory of her father’s company. Suffice to say, it didn’t make Haru feel glorious at all. Thankfully, unlike the killer robots, most of them seemed happy to ignore her and Sae as long as they kept moving – apparently, loitering was a sin at Okumura Foods.

Speaking of the killer robots, it turned out they weren’t robots after all. After sussing out the layout of the barracks (and Sae swiping some key cards from one of the commanding robots while Haru distracted it), they’d backpedalled and left the maze of a building. As they walked straight out into the once-distant city itself, the heiress' breath caught in her throat. While Haru wasn’t a tech-head, she couldn’t help but ogle the futuristic spires and floating pods that hovered in the air – she was almost surprised there weren’t any hovercars joining them.

“Look – I think this platform might be a lift.” Sae left the path and stepped onto a circular dais. “This lever looks like the ones on the elevators we used earlier.”

Following the woman, Haru felt a wave of gratitude that she wasn’t facing this trial alone. While the prosecutor wasn’t particularly friendly, her level head and keen eye had been vital. Plus, even if she wasn’t nice, she wasn’t cruel either, and had simultaneously done her best to keep Haru safe while not treating her as an ignorant child. It was… pleasurable, compared to most of the interactions the heiress had with adults.

(It really helped that Sae didn’t look at her like she was something to be devoured.)

Unfortunately, that was when their plan hit a snag. The second the platform reached its destination, it deposited them almost directly into one of the killer robot’s path. Cursing, Sae struck it before it could strike her, ripping the head-like effigy off its face.

For some baffling reason, the robot then exploded into black and red ink. Rising back into the air, the puddle reformed into a giant, floating starfish alien with a large eye in its middle. Blinking, Sae instinctively uppercut it, and this time, when it exploded into motes of black liquid, it stayed that way. Actually… now that Haru was paying closer attention, it wasn’t all goop – it looked like there were coins of all things lying on the ground where the not-so-robot had once been. The two women exchanged a hapless glance.  

“… That was a lot less threatening than I thought it’d be, honestly.” Sae muttered, still looking mildly bamboozled.

Haru paid her no heed, however, as she noticed something shining near some mysterious vats. “Oh, look – it’s another treasure chest!”

Before she could open it though, a strangled gasp left Sae’s throat. Turning around, Haru froze, eyes wide, as she saw what had rattled the prosecutor. At the other end of the landing was a door, but it wasn’t like the other ones they’d seen in the spaceport. Instead, its form wavered, and for a second, it looked like a typical supply closet you could find in any office.

Hope soaring in her heart, Haru dashed towards it immediately, Sae at her side. A giddy grin crossed Haru’s face as they charged in, revealing a dusty room with cleaning supplies tucked in the corner and sheets draped over the shelving racks. For a split second, she thought they’d somehow found the way home, but alas, it was not to be. The room warped, and Haru’s happiness died as quickly as it had arrived as the modern trappings faded away, replaced by the spaceport's metallic greyness.

“… Fuck!” Sae cursed, punching a mail tube ineffectively. Massaging her temples, the woman attempted to school her temper back under control, before trudging over towards a table and sitting down. “Come on. We might as well get some rest while we’re here.”

As Haru gently perched herself down on one of the stools lining the shoddily made table in the middle of the room, she gave a sympathetic wince as Sae mournfully rubbed her bare feet. Marching over all this metal had to hurt. For a while, they waited in silence, gathering their thoughts.

“… So, any theories about what this place is?” The prosecutor watched Haru, gaze assessing. “It’s clearly related to Okumura Foods somehow.”

“I’m afraid not.” Haru’s shoulders slumped, and a flush of shame swelled inside her – it was her family’s company, for god’s sake. Shouldn’t she know more about its affairs? “Father doesn’t talk much about the business with me.”  

“A pity.” Sae sighed, though she didn’t sound particularly surprised.

This time, it was Haru’s turn to stare at her curiously. “How about you? Do you have any ideas about where we are?”

“Not particularly – at least not any good ones.” Sae slouched against the table, expression glum. “The best I’ve got is that either Okumura’s somehow gotten in contact with aliens, which is as stupid as it sounds, or that he’s discovered some form of hard-light hologram, which is equally as ridiculous.”

Haru couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, I suppose those would explain our whereabouts, even if they’re somewhat farfetched.” Her smile faded slightly as she lamented. “I wished I’d paid more attention to father’s sci-fi films – perhaps this place would make more sense. Alas, I was always more into horror.” She then looked at her companion. “How about you? What sort of movies do you enjoy, Sae-san?”

“M-me?” Sae’s brows rose, before furrowing. “I don’t have time for trivial things like that. Besides, TV and movies aren't stimulating. I’d rather actually use my brain.”

“Oh.” Disappointment welled in Haru’s stomach. She hadn’t meant to upset Sae.

As the woman looked at Haru, she gave a slight wince, before something hesitant crossed her features. “I… did like fantasy novels when I was younger, though.” Sae’s expression then glazed over, crimson eyes as hard as steel. “But then I grew up.”

Chapter Text

After getting some rest - Haru and Sae taking alternating turns on watch, just in case - the women resumed their journey. To the brunette's delight, it turned out that taking a nap (and discovering the killer robots were actually rather underwhelming aliens) had a wonderful effect on Sae's mood. Instead of grumbling about it, the prosecutor simply watched Haru with faint bemusement as she tried her luck with the treasure chests yet again. The first one Haru cracked was a bust - merely some strange talismans - but eventually, the heiress struck gold. Or to be more accurate, a pistol.  

Eyes wide, Haru looked at the gun in her hands before giving Sae a frantic glance. Even just touching the thing made her feel like some sort of horrid delinquent. “S-Sae-san! What should I do?!”

The prosecutor rubbed her chin, expression calculating. “… Keep it, for now. In a worst-case scenario, it could save your life – I can hold my own in a fight, but you don’t have any self-defence training.”

“A-alright.” Haru swallowed, the pistol burning into the skin of her palm like a brand. Still, despite how terrified the responsibility made her feel, she knew the silver-haired woman had a point. “I’ll be careful with it, I promise.”

It turned out Sae’s decision was life-saving, in the end. They’d nearly finished scrambling across a sea of floating pods that led to a nearby tower, when Sae ambushed yet another one of the strange aliens that obstructed their path. This time, instead of turning into one of the starfish creatures or the surprisingly adorable moth men, it warped into a strange, robotic golem made of blue iron. Sae swung a leg at it with a yell, but unlike the other monsters, it wasn't reduced to vapours on impact. Instead, the prosecutor yelped as a dull thunk echoed through the air, and she recoiled, clutching her calf. Haru took in a sharp breath, heart catching in her throat. Truthfully, she shouldn't have been this surprised Sae's attack failed - it was clearly made of metal, after all - but in light of their recent successes, the heiress had let her guard down.

The creature’s head swivelled 360 degrees before it pointed one of its strange, stubby arms at Sae. The prosecutor barely managed to scramble out of the way before a surge of dark energy engulfed the spot she’d laid in but a second before. Unfortunately, it wasn’t finished its assault. The golem attempted to smash its rotund head into the fallen prosecutor, and acting on pure instinct, Haru fired. While she knew that guns had recoil, the teenager still jolted in alarm at the amount of backlash she received. To make things worse, she didn’t even manage to hurt the alien – the bullet bounced harmlessly off its side, ricocheting into the void.

On the bright side though, it seemed Haru had been sufficiently distracting, and Sae took the opportunity to scramble back to her side. “Let's go!” She hissed, and the teen didn’t have to be told twice.

Thankfully, after their mad dash away from the monster, they finally reached the base of the tower they’d been travelling to, a flood of relief running over Haru as she finally descended back onto solid ground. Well, reasonably solid ground, anyway.

“Are you okay?” The heiress asked her companion, brows knitted in worry.

“… I’m alright.” Sae massaged her tender leg, wincing. “I can walk, anyway. Why on earth did I think that was a good idea...?”

With her fears assuaged - if Sae was complaining again, she was probably fine - Haru proceeded into the tower. The previous one they'd explored had a constant undertone of blue which was noticeably absent here. The metal seemed far redder, and the clanking and whirring of machinery echoed loudly through the air in sharp contrast to the prior tower's silence. It quickly became apparent why – as they rounded the corner, the brunette’s eyes widened as she saw it was a factory.

Little blue robots shambled around in panic, falling to pieces as they worked, and Haru bit her lip – the layout was identical to that of Okumura Foods’ bun factory. The uncomfortable weight in her stomach lingered as they advanced, and didn't even go away when much to Haru's dismay, some metal cables snapped overhead and a series of crates toppled to the ground, obscuring their path.

They’d come all this way, and it was for nothing.

“… Well, at least by now the entrance should be clear.” Sae scanned the obstruction from head to toe, frown growing larger by the second.

Thankfully, at least some good came from their aborted foray into the factory. Haru raided another treasure chest – this time with the help of Sae’s lockpicking skills (in other words, her hairclip) – and despite all logic, somehow pulled out a sword.

The prosecutor gave it an experimental swing, nodding her head in approval. “Good job. It looks like opening all those chests wasn’t a colossal waste of time, after all.”

“Do you know how to use a sword, Sae-san?” Haru asked curiously. It wouldn’t surprise her, honestly – after seeing her crazy martial arts skills, a part of her was convinced Sae must have been some Amazonian warrior in a past life.

Once they'd escaped this place, Haru would have to ask her for some tips. Her destructive capabilities were enthralling, and so unlike anything the teenager had ever seen in another woman. She might not admire Sae’s personality, but Haru would happily admit she admired her power.

“No.” Sae shrugged nonchalantly. “But I’m sure I’ll pick it up quickly.”

All things considered, Haru believed her.

The trek back to the barracks was long and slow going, now that their prior confidence about taking on the security robots had been tempered, but eventually, the duo managed to crawl their way back to the skyscraper they'd come from.

“Maybe we should find another storeroom somewhere?” Sae suggested, wiping her brow. “I’m spent.”

The brunette nodded – while they’d avoided all the foes they could, they’d still gotten into half a dozen scraps since they left the factory.

Of course, it was at that moment that a voice so alien and yet so familiar Haru would recognise it anywhere echoed across the hall.

“What are you doing here?!”

…..

Makoto walked into the police station, hands trembling, as her friends circled around her like a shield. She’d been there before – her dad had taken her to work with him occasionally when Sae was unable to keep an eye on her for whatever reason and he couldn’t find another babysitter. This time, however, as she walked through the automatic doors, a chill fell over her. The walls were large and loomed over her dauntingly, and every corner was draped in shadows. To think, she used to associate police stations with a place of safety - now, they felt like nothing but a trap.

No cops came to drag Ren and the other Thieves away though as she approached the front desk. Instead, as Makoto wrote her name down into the logbook, Ann rubbed circles into her spare hand, and Yusuke shielded her from sight like a sentinel. As they headed to the uncomfortable plastic chairs Ryuji and Futaba bickered light-heartedly - their silly antics raising the mood - and when the brunette sat down, Ren took a spot at her side, a pillar of silent support. She was very aware of what his presence here of all places meant, after all.

Despite her friends’ efforts, however, Makoto’s mind raced. The first forty-eight hours were critical in a missing persons investigation. Nobody had even noticed Sae was gone for at least seventy-two, and almost half a day had passed since then. Stomach churning, it took all of the student council president’s effort to not throw up.

“Niijima Makoto?” A man’s voice called from across the waiting room.

Looking up, she saw the detective presumably in charge of the case. He was a middle-aged man with surprisingly shaggy hair for a cop, donned in a crisp suit – judging by his appearance, he was no novice investigator. Shakily, she gave her fellow Phantom Thieves one last smile before she rose to her feet.

Ren stood up with her, however, and rested a firm hand on his shoulder. “You can do this. I believe in you.” The conviction in his voice was so bright it burned. “Niijima-san will be okay.”

Makoto's vision wobbled, tears dotting her eyes for just a moment, and she rapidly engulfed him in a hug. Ren stiffened at the sudden contact, but quickly relaxed, and gave her back a pat.

“Thank you.” She murmured, cheeks flushed as she hurried to where the detective was waiting for her.

The middle-aged man shot Makoto a bemused glance but didn’t comment as he led the brunette through the station’s winding halls. The second they moved away from the foyer, and into the station proper, Makoto was caught off guard by the pandemonium. Officers hurried about as their superiors barked orders, and while she only caught a glimpse of it, files and photos were being pinned to boards as uniformed cops rapidly took notes.

“I want to know where she was last seen, and I want to know now!” A potbellied man snapped.

“Here’s the location data of her mobile phone.” A female officer passed a handful of papers to a senior colleague. “I’m working on getting her call history now.”

“Good, good – that’ll be handy, in case there’s some boy involved.”

Makoto’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart soared. Was all this effort… for her sister? She supposed it made sense, after all – Sae was one of them. Maybe, just maybe, they’d find her alive and unhurt after all.

“If we don’t find this Okumura girl soon, we’re fucked.” A constable loitering at the side of the hall whinged. “God, I hate rich kids. Daddy’s a bit strict, so she just ran away?”

The words pierced the student council president like a knife. Oh. This had nothing to do with Sae after all. The brunette was still reeling by the time the detective guided her into the interview room, and closed the door behind him. Makoto numbly took a seat, as the suited man sat opposite her.

“Hasegawa Zenkichi, PubSec.” He introduced himself, giving her a wry smile. “I’m the one in charge of your sister’s case.”

“… PubSec?” Makoto blinked, before narrowing her eyes. At least that meant they were taking Sae’s disappearance seriously, but… “Why not the SIU?” Sae worked for them, after all.

Hasegawa flinched, before sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “… Unfortunately, they’re kind of tied up at the moment. Still, rest assured, we’ll be trying our damned hardest to get your sister back safe to you.”

Makoto frowned, her disappointment quickly replaced with anger on Sae’s behalf. Unbelievable. After all the sweat, blood, and tears she put into the SIU, her disappearance wasn’t even a footnote to them. No – they’d just shunted her case off onto someone else. Still, that wasn’t Hasegawa’s fault, and despite his casual demeanour, he had to be good at his job to get a position like his.

“… Very well. What can I do to help?”

Unfortunately, the answer was very little. After giving a quick introduction of himself and Makoto to the recorder, Hasegawa started off with routine questions, such as what time Makoto realised when Sae was missing, and when she’d last seen her.

“So… from what you’ve said, Niijima-san hadn’t returned home or contacted you since Tuesday.” The detective stroked his beard. “Is that normal behaviour, not hearing or seeing from her for days in a row?”

“Not… particularly?” Makoto winced - even though there was no judgement in Hasegawa's voice, something in her stomach twisted. “I mean, seeing her, perhaps, but Sae usually texts me when she’s not coming home.” She fiddled nervously with her fingers. “Still… I know she’s been super busy with work recently. It didn’t seem that weird that it’d slip her mind.”

Hasegawa frowned but didn’t press further. Instead, he asked for a summary of Sae’s home and social life (not that Makoto had anything much to say about either of them), before finally asking more about Sae as a person. Quite frankly, it was excruciating. Makoto didn’t know if Sae had any friends (she assumed not). She didn’t know if Sae had any hobbies (her sister had when she was younger, but she hadn't seen Sae doing something purely for fun since their father's death).

As Hasegawa continued his questions, a shudder ran through the student council president when it dawned on her just how little she truly knew about her sister, really. Sae had been keeping her at arm’s length lately, but when had Makoto stopped reaching out to her in return?

“… I see.” Hasegawa frowned, brows furrowed. While he didn’t voice it, whatever he saw clearly wasn’t very good. “What about enemies? Do you know of anyone who would wish her harm?”

Snapping out of her spiral, the brunette’s voice caught in her throat. This was it – this was where the interview got important. Playing close attention to Hasegawa’s reactions, she recited her list.

“Socially speaking, no.” Well, there was Sojiro, but Makoto knew he had nothing to do with Sae's disappearance, and sure as hell wasn't going to set the police on him. “In terms of her work though, I know she was involved with cleaning up the fallout from the Kaneshiro confession, and she’s also recently been put in charge of prosecuting a politician who misused public funding. Her largest case of late has been looking into the mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns, however.” Makoto frowned. “You… don’t think it’s whoever's behind them, do you? The MO isn’t quite right…”

From the bottom of her heart, she desperately hoped it wasn’t. There was no resurrecting a dead Shadow, after all.

Hasegawa shook his head. “No – if she was inflicted with either of those conditions, we’d likely have found her by now.”

“That’s a relief.” Some of the tension sapped from Makoto’s shoulders. “Do you… think it’s the yakuza, then?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say, Niijima-chan.” Despite his smile, Hasegawa’s eyes were dark – it took Makoto a second to realise his expression was one of disappointment.

It’s none of the people I suggested, then. Either the suspect is someone I don’t know about, or the police simply haven’t found anything. Dread filled her at the thought of the latter.

(It was most likely the case.)

Hagesawa released her shortly after that, pointing her back in the direction of the foyer before hurrying off to do god knows what. Dully, Makoto trudged back towards where her friends were waiting for her.

“’The hell’s a kid here for?” A cop murmured to his friend, shooting a sceptical glance at the student council president as she walked past him.

“Didn’t ya hear? Niijima’s gone missing.” The other officer chortled. “Good riddance, far as I’m concerned.”

“Missing? Pah – she probably just finally figured out the Director is playing her for a fool and scarpered. What kinda girl her age would want to be stuck in a dead-end job raising some brat? If I was her, I’d have bailed a long time ago.”

The words hit her with all the force of a punch to her stomach. Staggering, Makoto wheezed, and if she didn’t manage to steady herself against the wall, she would have toppled to the ground. Blood rushed through her eyes, as the world seemed to wobble around her.

They… they thought this was her fault?

No. That can’t be true. Sis loves me. A voice in the back of Makoto’s mind whispered furiously, but it was quickly drowned out by a deluge of memories. Late nights, pale and drawn skin, half-hearted reassurances she was just tired, the way her eyes pinched whenever money was involved, useless… Sae had obviously been very, very unhappy, for a very long time.

And there was one thing at the root of all her problems.

Makoto.

…..

When Goro had gotten that call from Niijima in the early hours of the morning, terse and worried and asking about her sister, his stomach had twisted. It didn’t take long to confirm his worse fears. The prosecutor hadn’t entered the office in several days, her car had been abandoned somewhere in the business district, and GPS couldn’t pick up her phone.

Niijima Sae was officially missing. Making his excuses, he’d left the SIU's main office, and slipped into one of the private meeting rooms before locking the door behind him. The second he knew he was out of both sight and sound, Goro cursed and kicked the table in a fit of petty rage.

Seriously?! They’d just set their trap for the Phantom Thieves, one that could potentially be triggered in less than two weeks, and Sae had the fucking gall to go missing?! Sweeping a hand through his hair, Goro cursed – she was the lynchpin for his plan. Her Palace was in a convenient location, he knew his way around it and more importantly that there weren't any nasty surprises waiting in store, and the enemies inhabiting it were strong enough to stop the Thieves from clearing it in a day. Finding another Palace so perfect on such short notice would be an absolute nightmare.

It was official: if Sae had been kidnapped or killed, Goro would find who was responsible and empty three rounds of ammo into their heads. It was the least they deserved. Hand trembling, a wave of relief flooded through him as he entered the coordinates of her Palace into the Metanav, and was greeted with a please move closer to the destination message. That was good – the casino still existed, and therefore, she was alive.

Fleeing the SIU offices, Goro approached the courthouse, and reality rippled and fell away as he walked into the Metaverse. No blue flames of rebellion surrounded him, but that wasn’t a surprise – as long as he was tangentially connected to the SIU, Sae wouldn’t view him as a threat, even if their last conversation had been… strained.

(It was ideal for his goals, but… irritating, the way Sae’s distortion was slowly eating away at everything that separated her from the rest of the louts they worked with.)

What was surprising, however, was how quiet it was. While the garish, flashing lights of the casino still burned into his retinas, there were none of the usual crowds spilling out of the building and into the street. The sound of slots rolling and champagne glasses clinking was absent – even the catchy ditto that usually played in the depths of Sae’s mind had been silenced.

Unease prickled down Goro’s spine – something was very wrong here. A singular Shadow stood guard by the casino’s doors, and the detective gauged it – it didn’t seem hostile, and if he turned out to be mistaken, it'd be easy enough to slaughter. Deciding to take the legitimate approach before kicking up a ruckus, he approached the waistcoat-wearing monster, a picture-perfect smile donning his face.

“Hello there – it’s Akechi here. May I please speak to the manager? I have business with Sae-san.”

The Shadow shook its smoky black head. “I’m afraid the casino is closed – Lady Niijima is currently unavailable.”

Goro blinked, startled. He’d never had any trouble meeting her Shadow before, even back in the days when it still lingered in Mementos. Like most Shadows, it had been more than happy to vent about its awful, terrible life. At the time, it had just been a good source of blackmail and an interesting insight into how his co-worker’s mind ticked. When Sae started treading a little too close to Shido’s conspiracy, however, he’d used all the damning little neuroses she’d unwittingly revealed to him to twist her already distorted heart. It had been laughably easy – a few sweet nothings later, the Casino of Envy was born. Her increased distortion wasn’t potent enough for her to willingly join Shido’s ranks - the detective had found that oddly relieving, for some reason - but it had done its job. Sae was too hyper-focused on the idea of promotion to pay any heed to the blatant corruption right under her nose. Then the Phantom Thieves had then stumbled into the scene, and the casino found yet another use.

Suffice to say, given how frequently of a visitor he was to the Palace, this denial was… discomforting. The smile Goro had plastered onto his face grew slightly more strained. “I’m sorry, but it’s urgent – I really need to talk to Sae-san.”

“That won’t be possible.” The Shadow remained unfazed. “Lady Niijima is away on business.”

The detective wrinkled his nose. What the hell did it mean, she was away? Closing his eyes, he ignored the monster in front of him and focused on the Palace’s ambience. While he was no natural navigator, he was at least as good as the Phantom Thieves’ stupid cat. The longer he scanned the casino, however, the greater the wave of apprehension running over him grew, as it finally dawned on Goro what the Shadow was saying.

No matter how hard he searched, he couldn’t sense Sae’s Shadow anywhere.

“… My apologies.” Goro cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “I won’t waste any more of your time.”

Turning on his heel, his mind raced as he marched back into reality. He'd never seen anything like this – in fact, he didn’t even realise Shadows could leave their Palaces without the structure crumbling. There was something very, very weird going on here, and Goro didn’t like it at all. Still, while this situation was completely foreign to him, he wasn’t the only one dabbling in the Metaverse. Given Niijima’s panic, it was clear the Phantom Thieves weren’t behind Sae's disappearance, which left one option. The question was though, why? Shido knew all about the plan – in fact, he’d come up with most of it himself. Why would he jeopardise things now of all times?

(… Had he realised Goro was a viper in his midst, ready to sink his fangs into his skin?)

Pushing his uncertainty to the side, Goro dialled his boss.

“Akechi.” Shido snarled over the line, and despite himself, Goro’s stomach clenched at the displeasure in his voice. “I heard about Niijima – you better have good news for me. We can’t afford any setbacks this late into the game.”

“Don’t worry, sir – I’ve just finished reconnoitring the casino. Sae-san’s Palace is still intact.” Before Shido could get his hopes up, Goro quickly interjected. “However, there’s something wrong with her Shadow. Have… any of your researchers been performing any Cognitive Psience experiments I should be aware of?”

“What?! Of course not – if there’s something wrong with the woman, it’s probably those damn Thieves’ fault.” His father snapped. “You better fix this, Akechi. Find Niijima, find another Palace – do whatever you want, as long as it's quick.”

The politician hung up before Goro could even offer him any false reassurances. As his phone continued to beep into his ear, the detective stood in silence. Shido’s denial had been both brusque and rapid – it was even less reassuring than his pitiful speeches. Still, Goro reluctantly had to admit that it was perfectly in character for him - while his father was a filthy liar, it looked like this was one of the rare times he was telling the truth. 

So, if Shido wasn’t behind Sae’s mysterious disappearing Shadow, what the hell was?

Shaking his head, Goro dismissed those thoughts. He’d gotten his orders – he had no time to indulge in his idle curiosity. He’d spend a few days searching for Sae, and if he couldn’t locate her by then, he’d move on and prepare a new trap.

Despite his determination not to dwell on it though, the silver-haired prosecutor plagued his mind all night.

Chapter Text

Haru froze, as what could only be her father’s voice echoed across the spaceport. Despite the ice crawling through her veins, as she swallowed and forced herself to turn around, her hands were clammy. She knew what that tone meant. Disappointment and punishment, and considering their surroundings, possibly something even worse. Mega-disappointment, perhaps.

(It wouldn’t be the first time.)

When she set eyes on what she thought had been her father, however, Haru couldn’t help but gape. “Huh?”

The man who’d approached her and Sae was simultaneously Okumura Kunikazu, and yet very much not. He had the CEO’s face, glasses, and voice, but from there, the similarities quickly began to fade. His ever-present suit was gone, replaced with an imperious and yet simultaneously cartoonish spacesuit. Haru probably could have gotten over that though, if it wasn’t also for his blue skin and glowing yellow eyes.

“W-what on earth…?” Sae hissed, rearing back in shock. “Is this… some sort of clone?”

‘Kunikazu’ ignored the prosecutor, however, and his golden eyes drilled into his daughter. “I thought I told you not to associate with vulgar people, and yet, here you are, ignoring your duties and galivanting around with a wannabe thief!”

“I’m… sorry?” Haru gawped.

A ridiculous look of offence crossed Sae’s face. “… Thief?! If you're talking about those strange chests, that was Haru-chan’s idea!” Huffing, she then crossed her arms. “Plus, neither of us would have taken anything in the first place if your security robots weren’t trying to kill us.”

“How dare you speak to me, you feeble woman?!” Kunikazu’s lips curled as he finally glanced towards Sae, and trembling, Haru took half a step back. “Riff-raff like you have no place in Okumura Foods!”

Haru’s breath caught in her throat, and for the first time since this twisted version of her father confronted them, she felt an emotion that wasn’t fear – the cloud of dread choking her was pieced by a flash of anger. Sae-san isn’t feeble… she’s kept me safe ever since we entered this strange world. She’s protected me more over the last few days than you EVER have.

Emboldened by the embers inside her that were slowly mounting into an inferno, Haru took a step forward, ready to speak her mind. Before she could do so, however, a clapping noise began to emanate over her father’s shoulders. Footsteps echoed from the shadows, and a gasp escaped the brunette's mouth as a familiar redhead in a pale white suit emerged from the darkness. Unlike the bizarre parody of her father, however, he looked identical to the man that had made Haru’s life a living hell over the last few months. The same man who she would be shackled to for the rest of her days if her father’s dreams came true.

“Well put, well put.” Sugimura chortled, scanning her and Sae like they were fine cuts of meat. “The lower class need to learn their place. Although…” As his eyes lingered on Sae’s hips, Haru barely resisted being sick. It seemed no matter the reality, Sugimura was always repulsive. “You’re not too shabby for a commoner. Maybe I’ll have a little fun before we dispose of you…”

“Excuse me?!” Sae snarled, incensed, and her grip on her stolen blade tightened. “If you even attempt to touch me, I’ll part your hands from the rest of your body!”

Haru, however, had gone cold. “… What do you mean, dispose of?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Kunikazu arched a brow. “We can’t allow vermin to scurry around our factories freely – they’ll distract our workers, and I will not tolerate anything that detracts from productivity! What’s the point of even paying those louts unless we can milk them for everything they’ve got?”

The brunette gaped. She wasn't a fool - Haru had managed to infer by now that her father didn’t think much of the factory workers and retail assistants that were the backbone of Okumura Foods. Still, to hear him disparage them so callously, so openly, without even a hint of remorse… it was just as loathsome as Sugimura’s perverseness. While her fiancé’s lewd tendencies made Haru’s skin itch and stomach churn, the disgust she felt right now was different - it was a burning wave that straddled the line between disdain and loathing. How dare he. How dare he!

“Anyway, I must thank you, Haru.”

She blinked, caught off-guard at the brilliant, dazzling smile that suddenly crossed Kunikazu’s face. Hope flickered in her chest – perhaps there was still a chance she could reason her way out of this situation. “M-m-me?”

“Yes – you delivered the rat right to my doorstep!” His eyes lit up in maniacal glee. “You truly embody the Okumura motto – ‘overcome failure at any cost, even if it means betraying others’! Come, join my side – I’ll forgive your indiscretions for now.”

Sae arched a brow sceptically. “There’s absolutely no way that’s genuinely your family’s motto.”

Haru ignored her, however, a lump forming in her stomach as her fleeting glimpse of hope was dashed against the pavement. When she spoke, her voice came out as a strained plea. “Why are you like this - why do you only think about gains and losses?! Our workers… they’re real, breathing people, not mere tools for you to use however you please! This is exactly why our company has such an awful reputation!”

Kunikazu shrugged, waving a hand dismissively. “To gain, you must give, and if you wish to stand above others, you have to give the most. It is the only way one can rise to the highest level, and soon, I will be elevated to a new stage – the political world!”

“Give?” Sae scoffed. “You haven’t given anything – all you’ve done is trade away other people’s lives!”

“Kicking people down is simply a part of business – trite things like virtue and sentiment are for losers!” The spacesuit-wearing tyrant chuckled.

The prosecutor’s jaw lowered, as an unidentifiable emotion flashed across the woman’s face.

“Okumura-san…” Sugimura then purred, his voice rich and velvety like treacle laced with poison. “We don’t need a girl who doesn’t know how to sit back and do what she’s told. Unless you make some… compromises, I can’t introduce her to my father.”

 Haru stilled, frozen to the spot, as her father cast a dismissive glance towards the politician’s son. “She needn’t be your lawful wife – take her as your lover, or whatever it is you desire.”

“Lover…?” Haru’s voice was shrill, as a wave of incredulity ran through her. “You want me to be that vile man’s plaything just so you can satisfy your ambitions?”

All this time, she had quieted her doubts and sucked up her discomfort, all to make her father happy. But despite all the sacrifices she'd made for him – her schooling, her happiness, her body – he had the gall to throw her away like trash?!

“Why fret? You should be overjoyed that you’re fulfilling your role as an Okumura daughter. This is the only value you’ve had since the day you were born.” Kunikazu finished with a snarl.

“Men like you disgust me.” Sae's lips curled, something dark and menacing shining in her crimson eyes. “Women are more than glorified incubators or mere objects to enact your twisted fantasies on!”

The prosecutor continued her tirade, but her words swept over Haru like water. It was a pity - she thought she heard Sae say some actually rather nice things about her - but Haru's curiosity was quickly quashed as pressure started to build up in her brain. As her head exploded in agony, she let out a whimper and fell to her knees, an unfamiliar voice echoing in her mind.

Are you just going to stand by idly and let him speak to you that way?

“Why don’t you come back to my place?” Sugimura gloated, spreading his arms out wide as he sauntered towards Haru.

Plumes of darkness engulfed the redhead's body as his figure suddenly expanded, his eyes replaced by a glowing red slit. By the time the shadows cleared, there was not a man looming over Haru, but a machine. It was almost identical to the senior members staffing the spaceport, except for the way its paint job matched Sugimura’s suit.

“LET’S HAVE FUN!” He droned robotically as the pincers that made up his hands whirled. “I’LL PLAY WITH YOU UNTIL I GET BORED. A HIGH SCHOOL FIANCEE… WHAT A TURN-ON!”

So crass, so vulgar…

Haru yelped, as the pain already wracking her head reached a fever pitch. Scrabbling at her face, the heiress felt something supple yet firm covering her eyes. Panic engulfed her at the strange sensation, but it was quickly replaced by rage. She had no idea what it was, but deep down in her bones, Haru knew she had to get it off.

I see you’ve finally made up your mind, my dear, fated princess. The voice in her head purred. Freedom for you must stem from betrayal. If you still yearn for it now… then you must not err. Now tell me… who shall you betray?

Somehow, Haru staggered to her feet. “My heart had been set… you should know.”

Yes, that gaze! I am thou, thou art I… let us adorn your departure into freedom with a beautiful betrayal!

The world glowed blue as motes of flame surrounded Haru, but she paid it no heed. Grabbing the black mask that had formed over her eyes, the brunette pulled. She tore off skin and flesh alike as she ripped it off her face, but any pain she would have felt was drowned out by the apocalyptical anger blazing in her heart.

“Farewell, dear father… I will no longer be your subservient puppet.” Haru called, as blood dripped down her face. “Persona, MILADY!”

The blue embers drifting around her coalesced, and from the flames emerged a woman. In one hand, she held a masquerade mask up to her invisible face, and in the other, she donned an elegant fan. Her voluminous pink ballroom gown parted in the centre, revealing not legs, but enough artillery to arm a small militia. While normally, such a sight would have alarmed Haru, as she stared at Milady she felt nothing but strength. Their hearts beat in unison, and their will was one and the same.

“Then so be it… you’re worthless to me.” Her father sneered, before turning on his heel and marching away. Before he exited through the spaceport’s door, however, he cast one last look back at Sugimura. “Deal with them how you wish.”

The robot stepped forward, taking Kunikazu’s place. “YOU POOR THING… I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU BREAK!”

A couple of small worker drones spawned at his side, but Haru paid them no heed. “Sae-san, focus on the weaker ones – Sugimura is mine.”

“Uh… okay?” The woman blinked, watching Milady with wide eyes.

Eye narrowing into a glare, Haru returned her focus to Sugimura. “Persona – psio!”

Technicolour lights engulfed the machine, swirling psychedelically as they pulsed through Sugimura’s white carapace and tore into the electronics inside. A distorted groan escaped the robot's speakers as he collapsed to the ground. Vindictive satisfaction rose within Haru as her once-tormentor collapsed before her. Being the victim doesn’t feel good, does it now, Sugimura?

Things weren't over yet, though. Seeing their leader fall, the two server robots lunged at the brunette, wailing about her impropriety. Sae intercepted one, finally snapping out of her shock, while Haru turned towards the other. She had no idea where it came from – much like Milady herself – but for some reason, there was an axe in Haru’s hands. A soft grin crossed her face as adrenaline soared in her heart. She was going to relish this.

Lunging forward she struck, embedding the blade into the gap between the drone’s neck and body. Sparks flew as Haru severed wires, but alas, she didn’t quite manage to decapitate the wretched thing. It smacked at her with its iron hands, but Haru barely felt it through the burning adrenaline Milady had ignited within her. In return, she pressed her foot onto its chest, and pushed it to the ground. Raising her axe, she sent it swinging down, and it cut deep into the robot’s torso. The machine gave a death rattle, before disappearing into motes of darkness.

Haru spun around just in time to see Sae slip her sword in between the gaps in her enemy’s blue plating, incapacitating the robot for good. Sugimura, however, was still in one piece, and as the oversized machine rose back to its feet, Haru narrowed her eyes. That was unacceptable. Tapping her mask, Milady reappeared in a swirl of blue flame, before launching another wave of psychic energy towards Haru’s fated foe. Again, Sugimura collapsed, but this time, there were no flunkies in her way.

She thrust her hand in the bastard’s direction and finished her coup de grâce. “Milady, triple down!”

The Persona parted its dress, and reigned a hail of bullets down on the prone Sugimura. They chipped at his iron casing until it dented, then slid through the cracks and into the machinery below. His body jerked as the bullets hit their mark, until eventually, the glowing red visor that had once been his eyes dulled, and his engines powered down. For a second his body lingered on the ground, before melting into dark chunks and vanishing from sight.

Stunned silence filled the spaceport foyer, until Haru’s dumbfounded laughter began to echo through the sterile halls. “I… I did it! I won!”

She’d removed that awful blemish from the face of this earth! As the electric energy flooding through her veins began to abate and exhaustion settled in, however, Haru realised, that oh, she’d removed that awful blemish from the face of this earth with an awful lot of guns.

Wide-eyed, she whirled around to face Sae, skin blanching in horror. “Y-you don’t think I killed him, did I?!”

That would make her just as bad as her father, if not worse – he’d never directly ended a life with his own hands, after all. Not to mention, if Sugimura was dead, she’d just murdered him in front of an SIU prosecutor. That could end up being… problematic.

The silver-haired woman mulled things over, brow furrowed. “… Unless your fiancée was a cyborg all along, no, I’m pretty sure he’s fine. Unfortunately.” The last part was spoken under her breath, but Haru heard it anyway. Sae then sighed, looking away. “Does he… does he normally act like that?”

“If you’re talking about father, not particularly.” Haru leant against the side of the wall. It was only then that she realised her outfit had changed – gone was her summer dress, replaced by a pair of pantaloons. “He’s not usually that… overt about his opinions.”

Grimacing, her guts twisted. While her father would never be so impolite in reality, Haru knew better than to simply dismiss his blue-skinned echo’s words. The awful drivel he spilled was exactly how Okumura Kunizaku viewed others and this world, and she was done pretending otherwise. No amount of familial piety could justify blindly accepting his greed any longer.

“Sugimura though…” Haru continued. “Well, up until he turned into a robot, I was certain he was the real thing. He’s just ghastly.”

“Yes, I noticed.” Sae wrinkled her nose in distaste, before shooting Haru a concerned glance. “Are you okay? That was… rather a lot.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine!” Haru cheered – in fact, she felt better than she had in a long, long time.

Of course, it was at that exact moment that a wave of exhaustion crashed into her with all the momentum of a freight train, and Haru collapsed in a dead faint – she was out before she even hit the ground.

Chapter Text

Makoto wasn’t exactly sure how she managed to stagger out of the hallway and back to her friends. The world warped around her in an ever-twisting kaleidoscope of colours, and vertigo sent her stumbling every step. Somehow, she managed to reach them anyway. Ren was the first to notice something was wrong – the calmness in his grey eyes and subtle smile vanished the second he saw her, and the Phantom Thieves leader leapt to his feet. Ann was the first to raise her voice, however.

“M-Makoto? Is everything okay?” The blonde paled as she saw her friend.

The only response the student council president could make was a wheezy choke. Sae’s colleagues think she ran away because of me.

Looks of alarm flashed over the Phantom Thieves’ faces, and not even a heartbeat later, Makoto was surrounded. Everyone blurred together as they swarmed around her, and the student council president felt like she was being crushed under the weight of their mere presence. A thousand questions and condolences were launched at her all at once, becoming an overwhelming wall of white noise. Invisible forces pressed in on her from every side, and the brunette began to hyperventilate.

(Perhaps that was a misnomer – distantly, Makoto realised she’d probably been hyperventilating for a while).

It was too much. Everything was too much – too colourful, too loud, too everything.

“Woah, woah, woah – give her some space!” An authoritative voice suddenly cut through the clamour. “You’re just making things worse.”

“Is this like…?” Through the haze that was her panic, Makoto distantly realised the new speaker was Ren.

“Yeah. Let’s get her somewhere quiet, and preferably not in the middle of a police station.”

Fingers brushed her shoulder gingerly, barely even touching her skin, but even then, they felt like they were burning into her flesh. Still, Makoto subconsciously understood the necessity of the touch as whoever it was gently guided her away. Everything was still a jumbled mess, but the brunette could tell by the swish of the automatic door and the fresh air on her face that they were outside.

Reality seemed to skip forward like a scratched DVD – one second, she was standing, the next, Makoto was parked on a bench as a quiet, soothing voice told her to breathe in and breathe out. She followed their guidance, holding onto their words like a lifeline. Eventually, the terror gripping the student council president began to abate, her frantic thoughts calming and her racing heartbeat settling into its normal rhythm. Blinking her blotchy eyes – she must have cried at some point, though Makoto couldn’t remember it – the world around her refocused. The Phantom Thieves had retreated into one of the side streets branching away from the station, though that paled in significance compared to the fact that Futaba was perched directly in front of her.

“… You back with us?” The redhead asked, eyes narrowed inquisitively.

“Um, yeah…” Makoto murmured, voice cracking. “Were you the one who…?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Futaba nodded, averting her gaze. “Yup. Well, Ren was the one to get you out of there – I just did the talking. I’ve kinda been there, done that with the whole panic attack thing, so…”

“Thank you.” Makoto gave her a polite bow, gratitude welling up inside her. “I can't describe how helpful you were – I think that was one of the worst experiences of my life.” Her brow then furrowed. “Do you… get those frequently?”

Quite frankly, if panic attacks normally felt like that, the brunette wasn’t even sure if she’d want Kaneshiro to go through one, let alone the deviously intelligent yet shy young girl who was the latest addition to the Phantom Thieves’ crew.

Futaba shrugged. “Not really – at least not since my Palace got wiped. I suppose I almost had one when I got lost in Akihabara once, but then my key item came to the rescue!”

Makoto didn’t really know what that meant, but judging by the way Ren’s eyes softened, it probably had something to do with him. As she watched the boy’s gentle expression, butterflies entered her stomach – according to Futaba, he’d helped the brunette too. She’d have to do something to repay the both of them sometime.

… When her sister wasn’t missing, that was.

Ryuji was the one to bring them all back down to reality – they hadn’t come here to chat about the past, after all. “So, uh, what happened in there? It’s not…” He squirmed. “She’s not…”

Bile rose to the back of her throat, and shakily, Makoto shook her head. “They haven’t found sis, dead or alive. But…” She swallowed, mouth going dry. “I overheard some cops talking… they think she might have run away since she didn’t want to raise me anymore.”

“What!?” Ann reeled backwards, eyes wide in horror. “That’s awful! There’s no way she’d just dump you like that, right? She’s your family!”

The rest of the Phantom Thieves remained tellingly silent.

“… Do you believe there might be some truth to their words?” Yusuke asked, assessing the brunette cooly. Despite his level expression, there was no judgement in his voice.

Makoto shrugged, unable to meet anyone else's eyes. She felt dirty, like she’d been tossed aside like a soiled rag. “There might be. Sae was barely twenty when our father died, and while she always tried to shield me from the worst of it, I knew she was struggling. I tried my best not to be a burden, but…” A bitter smile crossed her face. “I guess my best wasn’t good enough.”

“That’s not true.” Ren’s voice cut through the air like a knife. Light shined off his glasses, obscuring his eyes, but his mouth was set into a thin line. “You’re one of the kindest and most courteous people I know.”

“Yeah!” Ryuji pumped his fist into the air, eyes shining in defiance. “I’m shit at school and don’t really have anythin’ going for me outside of you lot, but my mum still puts up with me! Your sis ain’t got anything to complain about in comparison – you’re the student council president for god’s sake!”

“Ren, Ryuji…” She murmured, holding a hand over her heart as warmth flushed through her body.

“Y’know what?” The blond snarled, still on a roll. “Fuck Okumura, and sorry, but fuck Morgana too – I’m gonna go straight to Mementos and change your sister’s heart! There’s nothing that justifies her ditching you like this!”

Ann sighed, pinching her brow. “… Ryuji, we can’t change Niijima-san's heart if we can’t reach her in reality.”

“Besides, it would be premature – this is all just conjecture.” Yusuke pointed out calmly.

Wait… her Shadow…

Groaning, Makoto facepalmed as realisation ran over her. “I’m such an idiot. Sorry, Yusuke is right – I just overheard those officers, and whipped myself up into a tizzy. Of course Sae didn’t run away.”

Sure, while it probably wouldn't have been a conclusion she'd have jumped to without outside influence, the idea of Sae abandoning Makoto was in the realm of plausibility. Sae abandoning her job – the same job she had an entire Palace built around – however…?

There was no way in hell she would ever do that willingly.

“Well, I suppose that's good news, right?” Ann smiled, blue eyes shining warmly.

Makoto winced. While it was a relief to realise she wasn’t responsible for driving her sister away, the reason why she’d had that revelation in the first place was hardly much better. The brunette opened her mouth hesitantly. She’d known about Sae’s Palace for a while now, but she’d hoped her sister would see reason without needing such an extreme intervention – besides, it wasn’t the others’ burden to bear.

(Makoto loved Sae, and couldn’t stand the idea of her friends looking at her like she was nothing but a Kamoshida or Madarame. Her sister wasn’t just a monster wearing human skin – she was flawed, yes, but she wasn’t evil.)

Still, as much as it made the student council president squirm, the time for respecting her sister’s privacy was over. Her Palace might be the only lead they had, and if Sae got hurt or worse because of Makoto’s nerves… she would never forgive herself.

In the end, she simply decided to rip the bandage off. “Sis has a Palace.” The brunette ignored the others’ surprised gasps and continued. “It’s located at the courthouse, but I don’t know the rest of the keywords. Given it’s the centre of her distortion, I can’t see Sae leaving her job unless she was under duress.”

The Thieves exchanged a troubled glance.

“Having a Palace doesn’t necessarily mean Niijima-san is a bad person.” Ren adjusted his glasses, addressing the group. “Plus, if she has been kidnapped by the yakuza or whatever, there’s a good chance her Shadow will be cooperative even if we haven’t gotten permission to enter her heart.”

Despite his assurances, his words fell flat – given how Sae had pressured Sojiro, Makoto doubted her distortion was purely a creature of self-harm like Futaba’s had been.

“It’s a bit of a risk going in without Morgana, but I’m game.” Ann shot a commiserating glance at the student council president. “Are you alright with this, Makoto?”

“Don’t worry, Ann – I’m fine.” Makoto took a deep breath in. “I wouldn’t have mentioned her Palace if I wasn’t willing to go in.”

Once the brunette had verified she was alright with infiltrating Sae's Palace, the rest of the Phantom Thieves quickly confirmed they were on board with the idea. Thankfully, the courthouse wasn’t too far away from the station – it wasn’t even a ten-minute walk. While they hadn’t brought most of their equipment with them given they hadn’t exactly anticipated going into the Metaverse this afternoon, it wasn’t like this was going to be a full infiltration. The plan was to speak to Sae’s Shadow and then leave – no fighting unless truly necessary.

The guessing game for Sae’s keywords probably took more time than actually reaching the courthouse. Makoto’s initial thoughts had been something along the lines of a stadium or an arena – her sister always acted like life was one big fight to the top. When following that line of thought didn’t work out, however, the process devolved into something far more random.

In the end, it was Ren who found the keyword. “Casino.” He stated flatly, with no real explanation.

Makoto hadn’t expected any results – the courthouse seemed far too solemn for it to ever be viewed as something so flashy – but suddenly, the Metanav chimed.

“Beginning navigation…”

She blinked, stunned, as the world rippled around her. As the last vestiges of the real world faded away, Makoto bit her lip and looked around. Unlike Kaneshiro’s and Futaba’s Palaces, where the entire landscape had been twisted by their cognition, most of the surroundings were untouched. In fact, the gilded casino jutting out between the precinct and nearby streets was utterly incongruous compared to the rest of Sae’s world.

“What’s with our clothes?” Futaba’s voice broke her out of her thoughts. “Or lack of them, really.”

Glancing down, Makoto saw she was still in her summer uniform.

“It means Niijima-san doesn’t see us as a threat.” Ren explained. “Our Metaverse outfits didn’t appear in your Palace either until we ran into your Shadow.”

“And hey, look at the cognitions!” Ann smiled as she gestured at the street. “They all look like actual people – that’s probably a good sign, right?”

Ryuji rubbed his eyes. “Huh, you’re right. That’s weird.”

Despite her positive words, however, Makoto could see the strain in Ann’s eyes, and her stomach twisted. Even if her distortion was small in scale, it didn’t change the fact that Sae viewed the courthouse as a casino. No matter how you looked at it, the implications of that were… bleak. In a best-case scenario, it was because of how high Japan’s conviction rate was - she was pretty much guaranteed a win purely because she was fighting for a guilty verdict. In a worst-case one…

Makoto didn’t particularly want to think about it.

(She’d known Sae’s investigations had gotten more aggressive this year, toeing a line she really shouldn’t. The idea that her sister might have outright crossed it already, forging evidence and knowingly sending an innocent man to prison or worse… it made her sick just thinking about it.)

Turning back to the casino, the brunette swallowed. It dominated the street, a garish neon sign showing a tacky mockery of Lady Justice towering over its doors. Spotlights shone up from the ground, framing the high-rise building, and colour glistened through its stained-glass windows.

“Futaba, run a scan.” Ren ordered, brow wrinkled. “Something’s wrong.”

“Danger?” Makoto asked, slipping into Queen-mode despite the absence of her mask.

“No – if anything, it's the opposite.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t it look… kinda empty?”

Puzzled, Makoto turned her focus from the spectacle of a building and towards the casino’s actual entrance. She narrowed her eyes, immediately seeing what he meant. Given the nature of the place, she would have expected to see cognitions spilling out onto the street, or at the very least socialising in the foyer. Instead, there wasn’t a single sign of life outside of what looked like a besuited Shadow guarding the front door.

Glancing back at the rest of the team, Ryuji shrugged before sauntering over to it. “Yo! Mind if we come in and talk to your boss?”

“I’m afraid, sir, that the casino is closed.” Despite how distorted the creature’s voice was, disdain dripped from it nonetheless.

Ryuji scowled, and sighing, Makoto stepped forwards before things turned into a disaster. She gripped the blond’s shoulder warningly, before turning to the guard and forcing a sweet smile. “Sorry about my friend – he’s… not used to establishments such as this. Still… I really need to speak to my sister. Can you tell her Makoto is here? It’s urgent.”

The Shadow suddenly straightened and gave her a polite bow. “Ah, Miss Niijima. My sincerest apologies – I wasn’t informed you were in this part of town. Unfortunately, I cannot fulfil your request.”

She wrinkled her brow as warring emotions of trepidation and annoyance started to seep through her. “Why not?”

“Lady Niijima is unable to see any visitors currently, no matter their clearance. The Manager is currently away on business.”

Makoto barely resisted pinching her brow, as her irritation won out over her discomfort. What the hell did that mean? She opened her mouth, ready to pry, when something tapped on her shoulder.

“Don’t bother – Oracle has found something.” Ren informed her.

Shooting one last baleful glance at the security guard, Makoto followed her leader over to some pine trees the other Thieves had clustered around. “What is it?” She asked, and despite her best efforts, some of her testiness still dripped into her voice.

“Turns out, Mr Security over there is telling the truth. Your sister’s Shadow literally isn’t here – there isn’t a single trace of her in the Palace.” Futaba tapped a holographic screen – despite the lack of her outfit, it seemed she could still access Necronomicon’s abilities.

Makoto cycled through at least a dozen expressions before she replied. “… Does that mean her Shadow is somewhere outside of the casino?” She supposed it made sense – Sae very much wasn’t at court right now.

Futaba shook her head. “No, I meant that her Shadow isn’t in this world, like, at all. She’s skedaddled. Fucked off into the void.”

“Hold on.” Ann blinked. “Shadows can do that?”

An uncomfortable quiet settled over the group. After an age passed, Yusuke sighed. “… If only Morgana was here. He understood the Metaverse’s peculiarities more than any of us.”

“Yeah, well, he ain’t, and we’re just gonna have to deal with that.” Ryuji clenched his jaw. “We should go inside and look around a bit – maybe we’ll find some clues there.”

Ren nodded, glancing into the distance. “I saw some stairs over there – they might lead to an infiltration route.”

Half of the group had spun around, ready to slink into the casino, when Yusuke’s voice cut through the air. “Wait.” The lanky boy's lips thinned as everyone’s attention fell on him. “In our previous infiltrations… have we truly learnt anything concrete about the Palace Rulers that didn’t come from the mouths of their Shadows?”

A look of confusion flashed over Ryuji’s face. “Uh, yeah? Don’t you remember that tacky-ass statue in Madarame’s museum?”

Makoto regarded the artist warily, wondering what he was getting at. “The cognitions in Kaneshiro’s Palace were rather indicative about how he viewed people, and there were the panels in Futaba’s Tomb.”

“… Except most of that was abstract, wasn’t it?” Ren mused, rubbing his chin. “We saw how Kamoshida and Kaneshiro viewed people, but never why they were like that. Even in Futaba’s Palace, it wasn’t the Tomb itself that revealed the…” He shot a wary glance at his surrogate sister, and only continued after an approving nod. “… The way she was resigned to die. That came from her Shadow self.”

Yusuke nodded. “Exactly. For one, there was no indication at all in Madarame’s Palace about what he did to my mother until the truth came from his own mouth.” While the artist didn’t meet her eyes, Makoto felt the bulk of his attention land on her. “I’m… concerned the Palace will feed us half-truths that will only distract us during this trying time.”

Her eyes widened as it finally dawned on her what he was trying to do. Oh. He didn’t want Makoto exposed to the worst of Sae’s psyche while her sister wasn’t there to answer for it – whether that be by soothing Makoto’s fears, or by revealing there simply wasn’t enough left of the old Sae to save. Alternatively, Yusuke simply didn’t want Sae’s Palace to potentially be the last thing Makoto ever saw of her.

(After all, if any of the Phantoms Thieves understood her current predicament, it would be him.)

“Fox is probably right.” She sighed, shoulders slumping. Even though logically she knew he’d just done her a kindness, Yusuke had also simultaneously dashed Makoto’s last hope – if the casino held no answers, they were back to square one. “Maybe Sae has just run away, and that’s why her Shadow’s gone.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Futaba scrunched her nose. “If she’d deliberately severed her connection to the courthouse, her Palace would have crumbled – mere nostalgia ain’t enough to keep a place like this alive.”

Ann furrowed her brow, shooting the brunette a quizzical stare. “Are you alright, Queen? You’re just… kinda hung up on this running away thing.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Makoto shook the intrusive thoughts from her head. “I think it's because the police were looking into another missing persons case alongside Sae's. A girl - Okumura - had run away from home.” Her lips thinned. "I guess she's probably related to, well, you know who. That'd explain why there was so much fuss..."

Futaba suddenly took in a sharp breath. “Wait, what did you say?!”

Chapter Text

“So. You’re a magical girl now.”

Sae knew that probably wasn’t the first thing she should have said to Haru as the younger woman finally regained consciousness, but she couldn’t help it, because honestly, what the fuck. Forget sci-fi movies – Sae should have spent her childhood watching girly cartoons like the rest of her classmates. Maybe then this baffling situation would have made a lick of sense. Alas, she’d wasted her time obsessing over stories about knights in shining armour instead.

(She’d tried picking up one of her old novels during a quiet weekend shortly after she’d joined the SIU. Sae had gotten about a third of the way through the book before putting it down in disgust. In the real world, there were no valiant heroes ready to save the day – sticking your neck out just got you punished. Damsels in distress were left to rot until they broke, and the men who ruled the land were hardly noble - in fact, they were just as bad as the villains. There was a reason she never lied to Makoto about how rough adulthood was – Sae had been misled her whole life, and the sense of betrayal she’d felt when the world turned out to be awful was staggering.)

Haru let out a slight groan before stretching. After the brunette collapsed, Sae had quickly dragged her into the nearest room and barricaded the entrance with a table. It probably wouldn’t have helped much if any of Okumura’s flunkies came looking for them, but it seemed the bastard was arrogant enough to assume Sugimura had won the fight as no robots knocked against the door.

“I… guess I am!” Haru giggled, admiring her strange new outfit with glee. Her joy was short-lived, however, and the teenager’s expression grew sombre as she remembered why she’d unlocked her newfound powers to begin with.

Sae hesitated awkwardly as the heiress’ shoulders slumped. Right. She… should probably say something, shouldn’t she? Mind racing, Sae thought back to all the times she’d consoled Makoto, and came to a grim conclusion – pep talks were not her strong suit. Still, as the adult in the situation, it was her job to make sure Haru was emotionally stable enough to endure their hostile surroundings, and if there was one thing Sae did have a knack for, it was work.

“Hey… I’m sorry about what your father said to you. While my own father was never that... crass, I know what it’s like to be betrayed by a parental figure you once loved.” Sae tried not to squirm at the admission – even if they were bastards in life, people always got furious whenever anyone disparaged the dead.

“… It’s truly unpleasant, isn’t it?” The smile that crossed Haru’s face was steeped in bitterness. “I didn’t want to admit it – he genuinely was kind to me, a long time ago – but the man I once loved is gone.”

“Look, don’t take those awful things he and that mockery of a fiancé said about you to heart.” Sae explained. “You’re a bright young woman with a good head on your shoulders – you’re not worthless at all.”

Oh? How fascinating – do you seriously believe that?

Sae’s breath caught in her throat as her eyes blew open. It was that voice again – the same one she’d been hearing since she first stepped into this damned space station. She’d just dismissed it as environmental stress, but those words were far too pointed, and far, far too loud to be a mere figment of Sae’s imagination. Either she was having a mental breakdown or something weird was going on, and given the way the world around her froze and a veil of darkness shrouded her surroundings, she’d bet on the latter.

“W-who are you?” Sae stammered, frozen to the spot.

Worthless, useless… her tormentor drawled, clearly having no intention of replying to her. Those words aren’t so different, are they? Besides, isn’t it a child’s duty to sacrifice themselves for their families?

Sae flinched involuntarily as Makoto’s face flashed into her mind. Despite that, her horrified shock was quickly engulfed by a flare of anger. “Don’t you dare compare me to that monster!” She snapped defensively. “First of all, I didn’t actually mean that, and secondly, I’d never tell Makoto to sell her body, bad day or not!”

Perhaps not. The voice conceded, and Sae shuddered as something caressed her cheek. Her soul, however…? All of our suffering would be meaningless if Makoto refuses to become a dutiful little robot. Only those who've managed to claw their way to the top have the right to keep their humanity, after all.

The prosecutor’s jaw dropped open, and even though she desperately scrambled for a retort, Sae had been rendered speechless. As colour leeched back into her vision and the world around her resumed its motion, ice crawled through the silver-haired woman’s veins. She – she wasn’t at all like Okumura!

… Right?

Haru smiled sunnily at the prosecutor, oblivious to the lump that had formed in her stomach – it was clear that despite her newfound Persona thingy, the only one who’d seen that awful little display was Sae. The teenager wouldn’t be regarding the older woman with nearly so much fondness if she knew about the ugliness in Sae’s heart.

“Thank you for your candour, Sae-san.” Haru’s chestnut eyes twinkled. “Ever since I was young, people around me have never seen me for who I truly am – they would just be kind to me to get into my father’s good graces. Adults, teachers, even friends… it seemed like everyone smiled at me purely for their own gain. I think you’re the first person to approach me in a long time who’s actually had my best interests at heart.” She concluded with a giggle.

The wave of guilt that ran over Sae was so strong it threatened to drown her.

Haru must have been able to tell something was wrong from her expression, and the brunette’s brows furrowed in concern. “Is something the matter, Sae-san?”

The prosecutor took in a deep breath. She felt utterly wretched – she didn't deserve Haru's faith in her at all. “There’s something I need to tell you. When I approached you that day we first met… it wasn’t for altruistic reasons.”

The teenager’s eyes widened, before her expression turned carefully neutral and the warmth in her eyes shuttered. “… You’re investigating Okumura Foods’ working conditions, aren’t you?”

“Something like that.” Sae sighed – now was not the time or place to reveal the real reason she was so interested in Okumura Kunikazu. “I… I’m sorry. I just regarded you as a means to an end – I should have known better. I should have been better.”

The seconds seemed to crawl on by as Haru digested her words, expression obscured by her floppy hat. By the time the heiress raised her head again, she wore a smile on her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you for the apology, Sae-san.”

Even though there was no hostility in her words, they were notably not ones of forgiveness.

(Distantly, she wondered if Makoto resented her too. As sick as the thought made her feel, deep down inside, Sae realised it wouldn’t be entirely unjustified if she did.)

…..

A whole world away, in a casino whose master had abandoned in favour of more extra-terrestrial pastures, everyone’s attention landed on Sakura Futaba, who was staring at Makoto like she’d seen a ghost.

“Uh…” The student council president blinked. “There was a girl called Okumura who’d run away from home – most of the SIU was looking for her.”

“Fuck.” Futaba cursed, before gripping Makoto’s shoulder. “Did you get her first name? Was it Okumura Haru?!”

“N-no, sorry.” The brunette shook her head, confused by the hacker’s intensity. Truthfully, Makoto had barely spared a second thought to the girl given her sister’s disappearance. “… Is that the name of Okumura Kunikazu’s daughter?”

Perhaps that was why Futaba’s reaction was so extreme – maybe it’d have an effect on Okumura’s Palace.

The hacker pursed her lips. “Yeah – she’s his only child. I was looking into the poll on the Phansite for, uh, reasons, and I noticed something odd. Most of the Okumura frenzy didn’t kick up until September, but there was a singular Change of Heart request posted for him in June. I did a bit of digging, and it was posted by Okumura Junior herself.”

“She wanted her own father’s heart changed?” The brunette looked at the younger teen in surprise. Even now, Makoto was undecided about what she wanted to do in regard to her sister’s distortion – she couldn’t imagine leaving Sae's fate in the hands of a group of strangers.

“Oi, why didn’t we hear about this before?” Ryuji scratched his head, throwing Ren a confused look.

“She might not have said why she wanted it done.” The Phantom Thieves' leader rubbed his chin. “Mishima filters the requests so we only get the ones with substance behind them – otherwise we’d be typing people’s names into the Metanav all day.”

“Bingo – she wrote down his name and not much else.” Futaba nodded, before her expression turned grim. “So, Okumura’s daughter – who very much does not approve of what he’s doing – goes missing at the same time as the SIU prosecutor investigating his crimes? I dunno about you guys, but that doesn’t feel like much of a coincidence to me.”

Makoto let out a strangled gasp. Given Sae hadn’t had a psychotic breakdown, or god forgive, a mental shutdown, she’d written off Okumura as a suspect. If he was behind Sae’s absence though...

“… It makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it.” The brunette mulled. “Perhaps Okumura wanted to give Sis a psychotic breakdown or mental shutdown, but his assassin couldn’t take her Shadow down. Murdering her in the real world would paint him as a suspect, so instead, he somehow sealed her Shadow away – maybe Wakaba’s research explained how to do that?”

At the mention of her mother, Futaba’s jaw stiffened. Ren, meanwhile, assessed the rest of the Thieves.

“Right. Let’s get out of here.” He ordered. “We’ve got better places to search.”

Moving back to their entry point, the Metaverse rippled around them before fading. The switch between the two realities didn’t feel quite as abrupt as usual - perhaps it was because of the scale of Sae’s Palace, or perhaps it was because they were never flagged as threats. Makoto had no idea. The second they were decisively back into the real world though, Ren pulled out his phone, lips drawn into a thin line.

“Okumura Haru.”

“Destination not found.”

“Dammit…” He sighed, sweeping a hand through his hair.

Makoto gave his shoulder a sympathetic rub, and Ren shot her a soft smile in return, leaning into her touch. A childish part of Makoto wanted the moment to last forever, and she felt a twinge of disappointment when he pulled away. Almost immediately, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment – she’d been cognisant that she’d had a small crush on their leader ever since he consoled her about punching Eiko that one time, but honestly, this was ridiculous.

Oblivious to her thoughts, Ren turned back to the rest of the team. “Let’s go home for now – I know time is of the essence here, but it’s getting late, and we don’t have our Palace equipment with us. We’ll reconvene tomorrow. I’ll try to get Kawakami to give us all the day off – she owes me a favour.”

She regarded him curiously – it seemed like he had a deal of some sort with half the city. Still, while a part of Makoto screamed at her to find Sae now, logically, she knew Ren’s plan was the best course of action. They’d need to be at their best to take on Okumura’s Palace, and if the CEO wanted Sae dead, it would have happened already.

Ren shot her a cautious glance, clearly wanting her approval, and Makoto gave him a nod. “I'm fine with that plan. I could probably get the day off regardless given the circumstances, if that’d help.”

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” Futaba shrugged. “It’s not like I’m ever doing anything anyway, so…”

“Tomorrow, I will come down with a case of pustules.” Yusuke announced with such solemnity, both Ann and Ren immediately broke into giggles.

“I'm down too." Ann stated. The blonde then waved them farewell, before heading back in the direction of the train station. "See you then, everyone!”

“I’m gonna dash as well!” Ryuji scurried off after her. "You all know my answer anyway!"

At a far more sedate pace, Yusuke began to stroll aimlessly away. “Hmm. I believe I will partake in some people-watching before I return to the dorms…”

Makoto assumed Ren and Futaba would head home together, but instead, he whispered something into the younger teen’s ear. Eyes widening, she snickered before hurrying off after Ryuji and Ann, leaving the two of them alone at the front of the courthouse.

“Not going home with the others?” She raised a brow.

“I’ll head back to Leblanc later.” He shook his head, a slight frown donning his face. “I… I thought you might not want to be alone, considering what's happened.” The second-year scratched the back of his head, looking away. “If I’m overstepping, I’ll give you some space, but…”

“No, no. Thank you – I’d love the company.” Makoto stepped forward, warmth filling her chest. She could tell her blush was returning, but considering it was for a far more sensible reason, she let it slide. This time, she was the one who averted her gaze. “Sorry if this is a bit forward, but do you mind coming back to my house with me? I don’t think I’ve got the energy to do anything, but I don’t want to go home to an empty apartment either...”

While Makoto was used to spending her evenings by herself, especially of late, she knew the quietness would feel so much more crushing now that her sister wasn’t a mere phone call away. Not to mention being alone with her thoughts didn’t sound appealing at all – she’d already spiralled twice today, and that was enough.  

Ren chuckled. “We really are two peas in a pod, aren’t we? I don’t mind – what line do you catch?”

The journey home was spent in peaceful quiet – Ren stood at her side like a guardian angel, his mere presence bolstering her fortitude. While she was still sick with worry about Sae, Makoto felt more stable than she had ever since she received that fateful phone call this morning – less like a nervous child and more like Queen, indomitable warrior of the Metaverse. As long as she trusted in herself and her friends, somehow, she knew everything would be okay.

As she walked up the stairs to her apartment, keys rattling in her hands, Makoto’s good mood began to dim. She’d wanted Ren’s first visit to be special – whether it was a nice dinner with Sae, or simply having a gathering after a Palace heist gone well. Instead, he was giving her pity company because her sister had probably been kidnapped.

“How about I give you a tour?” Makoto forced a smile as she turned on the lights. “Just leave your shoes by the door.”

The Niijima’s apartment wasn’t huge – three bedrooms, with the third barely being big enough to serve as a storage cupboard – but it was in a nice part of town, and Makoto liked to think she ran a tight ship when it came to the apartment’s cleanliness. It was a bit embarrassing showing Ren her room, but it felt weird not doing it. His eyes twinkled as he saw all her Buchimaru merch, but he was smart enough to keep his thoughts to himself.

“Feel free to take a seat.” Makoto offered as they moved back to the living room. “I might start prepping dinner now.”

“What, without me?” Ren gasped in mock-offence, swooning dramatically. “I’ll let you know, I’m a dab hand in the kitchen – a protégé of the great Sakura Sojiro himself!”

The brunette chuckled. “Yes, and currently, you’re also my guest. Relax – you’re doing me enough of a favour simply by being here.”

“But I like cooking.” He pouted, and Ren’s expression was so ridiculous, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Alright, fine – you can help me with the meal prep. That’s all, though!”

In the end, they settled on making a simple stir fry, and despite Makoto attempting to take on the onus of the task, it turned out Ren wasn’t japing about his cooking skills. While they cut their assigned veggies at the same pace, his slices were far neater, and he added pinches of spices into the dish that Makoto didn’t even realise they owned. While it probably still wasn’t restaurant standard by the end, given they were hardly using the fanciest ingredients, as she took a bite, Makoto was surprised at the tantalising flavour on the tip of her tongue. Sojiro really had been putting him through his paces.

“… I’ll have to invite you around more often. This is delicious.”

Ren’s eyes softened, and he patted her hand. “Next time, I’ll make sure that your sister has some too.”

A gentle quiet filled the air, and everything seemed to fade into the background as Makoto realised how close they were. His head was barely a foot from hers – she could even see Ren’s normally obscured grey eyes through the fake glasses he wore like a mask. His hand was firm, calloused in places and gentle in others as it rested against her own, burning with warmth like a miniature engine.

A bolt of courage struck Makoto like lightning. If this last day had taught her anything, it was that people could be torn away from your side at any moment – she would be a fool if she didn’t make the most of her time with the ones she loved. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against Ren’s and kissed him. Time seemed to slow. For a split second, he stiffened, before kissing her back with all the appetite of a voracious wolf. A single second or a whole eternity could have passed by the time they eventually untangled themselves from each other, breathless and blushing. 

Ren watched her with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Makoto let out a slight chuckle – who knew that a simple kiss was all it took to leave the great leader of the Phantom Thieves speechless?

“Is that – do you…” He eventually stammered, as red as a tomato. “This isn’t just because…?”

“No – I think I’ve liked you for a while now, well before Sae disappeared.” Makoto shook her head. “ I just wasn’t brave enough to say anything before now.”

“I must say, that was a hell of a speech.” He laughed, a giddy grin unlike anything she’d ever seen on him crossing his face. Ren’s eyes twinkled, as he offered her a fist. “… Study partners?”

Makoto smiled – Ryuji had taught her this gesture just the other day! Reaching out her fist, she bumped it in return. “Study partners.”

For a moment, the two partners – girlfriend, boyfriend, lovers? – drunk in the revelation that this was real, was actually happening. The moment was broken though when Ren suddenly winced.

“… Shit. I owe Futaba ¥10,000.”

“Please don’t tell me you made a bet with her about our love life.” Makoto pinched the bridge of her nose.

“… No comment.”

Chapter Text

Ren stayed at Makoto’s apartment until the late hours of the evening. After dinner was done they’d put on a few old Like a Dragon movies, until Makoto fell asleep during the climax of Like a Dragon 2: Extreme Edition. He'd borrowed a sheet from her room and laid it on top of her, before writing her a note and heading home. Given they hadn’t even been dating for three hours, he wasn’t entirely comfortable staying the night, and he needed to go home and get his gear ready for tomorrow’s infiltration anyway.

While he knew it wasn’t logical – Futaba had Leblanc bugged and Sojiro was keeping an eye out for him – a part of Ren also wanted to be home just in case Morgana returned. Niijima’s disappearance had temporarily distracted him from it, but the not-cat’s absence itched at him like a missing limb. Walking through Tokyo without a weight in his bag and a yowling in his ear just felt wrong. Case in point, he spent the night twisting and turning, the lack of weight on his chest making him feel adrift like a piece of scrap paper in the breeze.

(He should have been better. He should have realised Morgana’s snippy comments were getting under Ryuji’s skin, and that the not-cat was feeling insecure about his place in the team. Ren was meant to be the Phantom Thieves’ leader, for god’s sake.)

Eventually, Ren finally managed to drift off, only to be woken by the shrill ringing of his alarm. Blearily, the teen opened his phone and checked his messages. Makoto had texted him, thanking him for last night – she’d added in a small love heart emoji at the end of her message, and despite everything, Ren couldn’t help but crack a goofy grin. Shit – he was down bad. Little wonder Futaba was so confident about her bet that they’d pair up before Christmas came.

He sobered up, however, when he saw that Kawakami had gotten back to him. The tension fled his shoulders as he read her text - she'd agreed to cover for them. Ren would have to get her something nice as a thank you. Perhaps a CD – he knew she was into idol groups.

Packing his infiltration gear into his sports bag, he put on his Shujin uniform, but was careful to pack some casual clothes as well. Sojiro wouldn’t be too pleased if he caught Ren skipping school, after all. The second he finished giving his farewells to the barista, he left Leblanc, before rounding back to the Sakura residence. A (very) sleepy Futaba was waiting for him, and let Ren get changed in her room while she grabbed herself a coffee.

It was approximately 9:30 by the time the Phantom Thieves finally gathered at the small plaza in front of the Okumura Foods Headquarters. Makoto gave him a soft smile and a slight nod when he arrived, but didn’t move closer – now wasn’t really the time for PDA. She and Ann had both worn blouses, clearly trying to fit in with the businesspeople that flittered around the corporate area. Yusuke’s plain white shirt and dark slacks made him blend in with the crowd too, but Ren had a hunch that wasn’t a deliberate choice and more of a consequence of Yusuke having gotten paint all over his normal clothes. Meanwhile, Ryuji, Futaba, and himself looked shabby in comparison - Ren's black hoodie hide his age but otherwise looked entirely out of place.

“Dude, this place is huge.” Ryuji whistled, eyes wide as he looked at the towering skyscraper that was Okumura’s lair. “Damn. I was kinda hoping we’d run into Morgana, but if the Palace is anywhere near this big on the inside…”

“… Will you apologise if we do see him?” Ann furrowed her brows, expression troubled.

The blond scowled in return. “What do I have to apologise for?! It ain’t my fault he blew up at me!”

“You’re right.” Ren sighed, pushing up his glasses. “Still, it’s clear Morgana is going through some things right now, and he’d probably appreciate the gesture. When he’s calmed down a bit, we can have a proper discussion about the way you’ve both been heckling each other.”

“He started it!” Ryuji threw his hands up into the air.

“I know.” The black-haired teen nodded in acknowledgement. “And Morgana needs to stop it, as well – he shouldn’t be picking on you just because you two got off on the wrong foot. Still, insulting him in return isn’t helping.”

“Fine, fine.” Ryuji scuffed his foot against the ground, still looking more annoyed than sorry, but Ren knew that deep down inside, the delinquent could tell he had a point.

Makoto steered them back on track. “You said you found the Palace's keywords, right, Futaba?”

The hacker perked up. “Yep – the ‘corporate HQ’ is ‘outer space’!”

Ren blinked, baffled. How the hell could someone view a building as bloody space of all things, he had no idea. As the Metanav chimed and dragged them into the Palace, he surveyed their surroundings. The Phantom Thieves had arrived on a viewing platform, overlooking a city filled with cold iron and glowing lights like a town straight out of Star Wars. Unlike in Niijima’s Palace, the Phantom Thieves appeared in their Metaverse outfits instantly – it seemed Okumura was far more paranoid than Makoto’s sister.

(Unfortunately, they both should have been equally wary about their safety.)

“Alright, everybody.” Ren turned back to face his team, his coattails swishing behind him. “Our first priority is finding out anything we can about Queen’s sister. Keep an eye out for Mona, too.”

Despite the usual confidence Joker’s mask gave him, Ren’s stomach twisted – while Morgana wasn’t a stranger to exploring Palaces alone, it didn’t mean it was safe for him to do so either. He’d been caught in Kamoshida’s Palace, and their enemies had only gotten stronger since then.

“While it’s not a priority, if anyone sees anything about Okumura Haru, they should flag it.” Makoto added. “It might be a red herring, but if her and Sis’ disappearances are linked…”

“Got it, Queen!” Ann gave her a jovial salute.

With the preamble done, the Phantom Thieves began their descent into the depths of Okumura’s heart. They took an elevator down into a hanger or bunker of some sort, and a brief walk down the corridor later, got a first-hand view of how Okumura viewed his workers – they were nothing but disposable robots. The mood was grim as they advanced through the Palace, entering a foyer dominated by a glowing projection of what looked like a burger-shaped spaceship. Ren blinked, shaking his head. The robots were self-explanatory, but he still had absolutely no idea what the hell the space motif was about.

When he tried to move on to the next room, however, Futaba yelled. “Joker, watch out!”

The door in front of him slammed shut, before a blue laser shield switched on, coating the cold metal surface. Curious, he stepped forward, and an electronic voice screeched at him.

“PERFORMING BIOMETRIC AUTHENTICATION… AUTHORISATION ERROR.” An awful buzz pierced the air. “ONLY REGISTERED PERSONNEL MAY PROCEED PAST THIS POINT.”

Marching forward, Ryuji threw himself at the door to no avail. Meanwhile, Ren looked around, activating his third eye, but nothing popped out through the darkness.  

“This is gonna be a bit of a problem…” Futaba murmured, activating Necronomicon as she studied the door.

“What is it, Oracle?” Makoto’s mouth was set in a thin line, and while her frustration didn’t seep into her voice, Ren could tell that this early roadblock had agitated her.

Yusuke stroked his chin. “Is it a cognition lock?”

“Kinda.” Futaba pursed her lips. “Only company big-wigs and Okumura’s family are registered in the system. We’re gonna need to either get their bio-data, which is a long shot, or somehow become executive assistants at Okumura Foods in the real world.”

“That is… absolutely not feasible.” Makoto rubbed her brow.

Ren frowned, internally cursing. The bio-data thing might be possible depending on how much of said data was actually needed. If they only needed a few small fragments, all they’d need to do is find a registered user’s address and steal a hairbrush or something. If they got caught, however - which was very likely knowing their luck - the price would be far too high. A single slip-up could get them all arrested. Ironically enough, Morgana would have been perfect for this – it wasn’t like a cat could be tried in a court of law, after all. Still, he wasn’t here, and there was no point dwelling on what-ifs.

“Is there any way to hack it, Oracle?” Ren asked instead.

The hacker grimaced. “… Possibly. Still, it’s a hell of a system. Even if I dedicate all of Necronomicon’s processing power into cracking it, I’d estimate it’s still gonna take a whole week for me to get access.”

“A week?!” Makoto hissed, blanching. “That’s…”

Ren’s lips thinned. Who knew what state Niijima would be in by then? The frizzy-haired teen turned away. As much as it made his stomach churn, however, he grimly realised it was their only option. Judging by the rest of the Phantom Thieves’ expressions, they’d all come to the same conclusion.

“Well, I suppose there’s some good news.” Ann sighed, shoulders drooping. “This means Mona probably hasn’t been able to get any further into the Palace either.”

(The fact wasn’t nearly as consoling as it should have been.)

…..

Now that Haru had Milady at her side, exploring the spaceport was far easier. Her psychic skills tore through the very same golems that had trounced them before, and her artillery could down the rest of the loathsome creatures inhabiting the bizarre lair. Due to her improved arsenal, Haru had given her pistol back to Sae. The prosecutor was clearly none too pleased that her position as the chief combatant had been usurped, but she didn’t put up any complaints either. Sae had obviously realised that out of the two of them, she was the vulnerable one now.

Speaking of the prosecutor, ever since her confession things between the two women had been…  strained. Haru tried to be as polite as ever – this simply wasn’t the time or place for petty fights – but the revelation that Sae was just another adult who’d seen her as nothing more than a tool… hurt. Despite Sae’s middling social skills and general aloofness, Haru had liked her – admired her, even – and the teen had actually been stupid enough to think that those feelings might have been reciprocated. Well, not the admiration, but the rest of them.

Admittedly, it was clear Sae was remorseful about her actions, and Haru wasn’t really sure how that made her feel. There were dark rings under the prosecutor’s eyes, her skin was pale, and her expression was clearly troubled. It was hard to be angry at Sae when she looked so wretched, and that in of itself was annoying. Haru wanted to be angry, dammit.

She was snapped out of her thoughts as a mechanical clunking echoed down the hall. Deftly ducking behind a pot containing a holographic tree, Haru resisted stiffening as Sae joined her side. A line of corporate drones marched down the hall, lead by a lanky blue robot at their helm. While they didn’t tend to attack on sight like the security robots, after the encounter they’d had with Sugimura, Haru knew better than to dismiss them as threats entirely.

The PA system crackled to life, and a voice blared through the barrack halls. “TIME FOR A SHIFT CHANGE! TIME FOR A SHIFT CHANGE!”

“Perfect.” Sae whispered, some of her previous fire reigniting in her eyes. “Let’s follow them. Once they’ve split up, we can corner one of them and get the information we need.”

Haru nodded. While they’d tried hunting for the exit again after leaving the safety of the storeroom, it was impossible to discern the difference between the monotonous halls in this wretched place. So, Sae had suggested a different plan – namely, forcing the answers they needed from one of the inhabitants of the spaceport. Of course, they’d try diplomacy first, but if that failed, they now had the might of Haru’s Persona at their beck and call.

Eventually, the machines headed off in different directions, and the duo followed a handful of them into a small, spherical office. Some of the smaller automatons jabbed holo-screens meaninglessly, while one of the senior robots kept watch, mechanical body swaying as if it was in a breeze. When the leader’s attention was focused on the other side of the room, Haru attempted to approach one of the basic workers. Unfortunately, the second the funny little robot saw her it panicked, and hurriedly attempted to push her out of the door. Simultaneously, Sae tried wheedling information out of one of the other workers, but was similarly denied.

“I don’t like it, but I think we’re going to have to try negotiating with their leader.” The silver-haired woman grimaced.

“Very well.” Haru mustered her courage – she’d defeated Sugimura, and if worst came to worst, she’d defeat this robot too.

Slinking out into the open, the brunette approached the machine, holding her head high.

The robot’s attention quickly honed in on the two women. “HEY! WHO ARE YOU?! YOU CAN’T BE WANDERING AROUND HERE UNATTENDED!” The machine somehow managed to snap, despite its monotone voice.

Haru’s momentary confidence faltered. “Oh. I-I’m sorry.” She instinctively apologised, before immediately cringing. She was still acting like she was the Haru of the past – hadn’t she promised to stand up for herself?

“ARE YOU TRULY APOLOGETIC THOUGH?” The robot wagged a boneless finger in her face, like it was reprimanding a small child. “I DON’T MEAN TO LECTURE YOU, BUT THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD! I’M NOT SURE WHAT BUSINESS YOU HAVE HERE, BUT YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO – WAIT…” It froze, visor pointed at her suspiciously. “JUST WHO ARE YOU, ANYWAY?”

“My apologies.” Sae stepped between Haru and the machine, giving it a polite bow. “My associate and I were having a meeting with Okumura-san about a corporate merger, but unfortunately seemed to have gotten lost on our way out. Do you have a map or a floor plan we could borrow?”

Her lies were so fluent, the brunette couldn’t help but be impressed. Haru felt a small pang of envy – she’d have to ask Sae for some pointers – before shaking her head. The prosecutor’s ability to tell fibs was the exact reason Haru was irritated with her right now.

Oddly enough, despite Sae’s very plausible cover story, the robot reeled back in shock. “OKUMU- YOU MEAN THE PRESIDENT?! WHO THE HELL’RE YOU GUYS?! TH-THAT IS, WHO MAY YOU BE?” It stammered, the fear in its voice palpable. “WAIT, PLEASE FORGET I JUST SPOKE TO YOU LIKE THIS! PRIVATE TALKS ARE FORBIDDEN IN THIS OFFICE! PRESIDENT OKUMURA WOULD DISPOSE OF ME AT ONCE IF HE WERE TO SEE ME CHATTING LIKE THIS!”

Haru blinked, eyes wide, as the machine supplicated itself on the ground, begging for them to spare its life. Slowly, the two women stared at each other, equally shocked by the dismal display.

“… Let’s just get out of here.” Sae sighed, and Haru rapidly nodded in agreement. As they walked out of the office and down the corridor, the older woman’s shoulders drooped. “That was a complete and utter waste of time.”

Haru glanced over her shoulder and back to where the panicked robot was now shouting orders at its hapless employees. The brunette couldn't help but sigh as she watched the sight. “... They're pitiful, aren't they? Why they follow father so fervently when they know they’re just as replaceable as the machines they manage, I have no idea.”

It took her a good several seconds to realise Sae had stopped in her tracks. “Of course not.”

“E-excuse me?” Haru froze at the menacing undertone in the prosecutor’s voice.

Turning around, she scanned the silver-haired woman’s face. Haru thought she knew what anger looked like on Sae by now – it was a pinched brow, curled lip, and a blazing fire in her wine-red eyes. The expression the prosecutor currently wore was nothing like that. Her face was so stony it could have been carved from marble, and the look in Sae’s eyes was so completely and utterly devoid of warmth, Haru felt chilled to her core.

“You're just a naïve child who's never had to work for a single thing in her life.” Sae spat out. "You know nothing about the struggles normal people face."

Perhaps once upon a time, Haru would have flinched at Sae’s harsh tone. With Milady stoking the fires of her self-worth inside her, however, for once the brunette did not bow. Instead, the bitterness in Sae’s voice did nothing but raise her hackles. Haru didn’t need to tolerate being badmouthed purely because Sae was feeling jealous.

Straightening her shoulders, she looked the woman dead in the eye. “While I won’t deny that I’ve lived a comfortable life, I know what it's like to suffer.”

“Suffer? Suffer?!” A mirthless chuckle escaped Sae’s throat, and for a split second, Haru swore her eyes flashed a sickly gold. “You think having to deal with bastards like Sugimura is suffering?! Newsflash – that’s just every woman’s life, every single day! I’ve dealt with so many men like him I’ve lost count!”

Haru opened her mouth, ready to defend herself, but the prosecutor beat her to the punch.

“Tell me, Okumura, have you ever gone days upon end eating nothing but scraps so you can keep the rest of your family’s stomachs full?” Sae stepped towards her, trembling with barely compressed rage. “Have you been forced to barter away your deceased mother’s heirlooms purely so you can pay for your sister’s schooling? People like these machines – people like me – have to sell our souls simply so we can survive. Choice is a luxury, and not one we have. We put up with men like your father using us, or we end up on the streets.”

The heiress’ jaws dropped open at the vitriol in Sae’s voice. After gaping like a fish for seemingly an age, Haru eventually managed to splutter. “… Choice? Do you seriously think I’ve ever had a choice about anything in my life?!”

The prosecutor’s lips twitched, forming something that was almost a smile but infinitely more awful. “Yes, actually, I do.”

“P-pardon?” Haru wheezed, instinctively taking a step back.

The prosecutor was like a shark who’d sensed blood, however, and she went in for the kill. “You’re Okumura Kunikazu’s only child, and that gives you negotiating power. He can’t just disinherit you – he’s put you in the spotlight too much for that. No, if you suddenly disappeared from the public eye, people would talk. Even if he did, you’ve had a bank account in your name since you were in diapers. It wouldn’t be enough to maintain your standards of living, but it’d certainly tide you over until you managed to get a job. You’ve always had power, Okumura – you were just too much of a coward to use it.”

Haru was rendered speechless, astonishment and outrage warring within her in equal measure. “I-I-I…” She took in a deep breath, fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles would have been stained white if she could see them under her purple gloves. “I have no obligation to stand here and let you abuse me like this.”

Trembling with fury, she stormed away from the prosecutor, too incensed to care about things like stealth or where she was going. As she rounded the corner, Haru almost walked straight into one of the security drones, but she didn’t even care – instead, the teenager summoned Milady in an explosion of blue fire and crushed the monsters it turned into with a wave of psychedelic energy that washed over the hall. Another robot screeched in the distance, and this time, Haru gripped her axe. With a yell, she charged forward and embedded it into the metal surface of the drone’s body. It broke apart, scattering into inky motes that reformed into several mothmen. While she’d learnt by now that Milady’s guns were the most efficient way of taking down these particular beasts, that was far too detached – too impersonal – to satisfy the rage in Haru’s heart. She wanted - needed - to engage in something far more visceral. It wasn’t quick or easy – they sunk teeth into her skin and drained her life force while pelting wild bolts of electricity her way – but eventually, Haru’s axe met its mark, and tore through the bugs’ bodies.

Panting, she stood in the midst of the carnage she wrought as Milady’s flames of rebellion flickered and vanished. Her adrenaline ebbed away, taking most of the anger that had blinded her with it. As she looked at the pile of coins and course iron sand that her foes had left behind, Haru’s stomach twisted. She still felt entirely justified leaving Sae – her attack on Haru's character was both vindictive and cruel – but some of the things she said…

Bile rose to the back of Haru’s throat. As awfully as the prosecutor was acting, those things she’d revealed about her past… they were horrible. The heiress couldn’t imagine not having access to such a basic necessity as food, let alone trading the scant remnants of her heritage away to keep her family afloat. While Haru knew people from lower class backgrounds didn't have access to all the luxuries she did, poverty to her had always been an abstract, intangible thing – something that simply didn't happen in the Japan she knew and loved.  And yet, if what Sae was implying was right, it was actually looming everywhere – she’d just been too blind to see it.

It was little wonder the woman had snapped – Haru had indirectly called her a fool for simply having the misfortune of not being born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She still didn’t agree with all of Sae’s sentiments (or most of them, really – Haru’s lack of action against her father was born from love, not cowardice), but she was mature enough to admit she’d spoken without thinking and had said something unintentionally unkind as a result. The brunette had thought she was so much better than her father – that she’d treat the workers of Okumura Foods with respect if she ever had the chance to stand at the company's helm – and yet, it was slowly beginning to dawn on her that she knew nothing about them at all.

Turning around, she retraced her steps. Haru would be lying if she said that she'd completely gotten over Sae's words, but now that she'd managed to get her initial rage out of her system, the heiress intended on treating this situation with grace. They were stuck here together, after all, and leaving Sae to get mauled by mothmen purely because they'd had a stupid argument would be rather childish of her. Thankfully, it didn’t take her long to find the silver-haired woman – while the prosecutor had sensibly kept her distance, it was clear she’d been following Haru from afar. The second the two women set eyes on each other, a dreadful silence fell over the spaceport. Tension nibbled away at the air, more uncomfortable than angry, and eventually, Sae broke the stalemate between them.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.” Sae’s voice was curt, and she stared into the distance as opposed to meeting Haru’s eyes. "I'm just... stressed."

The teen shuffled awkwardly. It wasn't a fantastic apology, but given the prosecutor's general bluntness, it was probably as good as she was ever going to get. “I… I’m sorry too, Sae-san. Upon reflection, I realised the comment I made was… somewhat tasteless.”

“… Oh.” Sae’s eyes widened in surprise. The prosecutor then swallowed. "Okay.”

It was very clearly not forgiveness, and at the bitter irony Haru couldn’t help but laugh. The prosecutor looked half-confused, half-concerned, and took a tentative step towards Haru as she continued to wheeze, tears prickling the corners of her eyes. “I’m okay – I’m okay.” The heiress raised a hand. “It’s just… I realised we’ve both hurt each other, so in a terrible way, we’re now even.”

Sae arched a brow, but there wasn’t any heat to the gesture. “That’s… certainly an interesting way of looking at things.”

“Perhaps, but it’s not a bad one, is it?” Haru gave her a rueful smile. “I'd rather let bygones be bygones than nurse a grudge." Throwing her caution to the wind, she offered the older woman her hand. “… How about we start over?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Sae shook it in return, and something in the prosecutor’s posture loosened. “… Alright, Haru-chan.”

Chapter Text

The mood was grim as the Phantom Thieves left Okumura’s Palace. They’d all been raring to go, and yet, they’d run into a week-long roadblock minutes after stepping into the Palace. Ren clenched his fists – they were so damn close, and yet victory had been pulled out from under their feet at the last second.

“Well, that was a bust.” Ryuji pouted, shoulders slumping.

Ren paid little attention to him though, his gaze sliding to Makoto. While she was clearly trying to keep her composure, her posture was rigid, and not in the awkward, robotic way that made her so endearing. No – she was a coiled-up spring, one that could snap at any moment.

“Yeah…” Ann sighed, before shooting a sympathetic glance at the student council president. “I’m so sorry, Makoto.”

“That’s okay.” The brunette forced a smile, but it quickly faded. “I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”

“Hey, why don’t we go to Mementos?” Ryuji suggested, and quailed under everyone’s inquisitive stares. “We’ve got the rest of the day off, right? ‘Sides, maybe we’ll feel better if we beat up some Shadows.”  

Ren mulled over the idea. The blond had a point – it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. Plus, they could always swing by the Shadows of some of those yakuza thugs Niijima was meant to be prosecuting. Sure, he was pretty certain Futaba was right on the money with her suspicions about Okumura, but exploring other options wouldn’t hurt either. There were worse ways to kill time.

It was then that an idea flashed into his mind.

“I’m game if the rest of you are.” After receiving a series of confirming nods, Ren continued to the second part of his plan. “Let's split up on our way to Shibuya - smaller groups will be less likely to capture the eye of any truancy officers. Ann, you’re with Futaba. Yusuke, Ryuji, keep an eye on each other. I’ll go with Makoto.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Ryuji grinned, giving him a lackadaisical salute before charging away, half-dragging a spluttering Yusuke behind him.

“See you later!” Ann waved, while Futaba shot a knowing glance at Ren before scurrying off after her.

Once the rest of the Phantom Thieves had departed, Makoto crossed her arms and arched a brow at him. “Yusuke and Ryuji, really?”

Ren shrugged. “I think they balance out each other’s social deficiencies.” His expression turned more serious, and ignoring the way it made his heart skip a beat, he reached out and laid his hand on the brunette’s shoulders. “… How are you holding up?”

Makoto slumped. “Not… not well. I finally thought I’d get some answers about Sis, but -” She broke off, lips quivering as her eyes began to water. “I just… I just want to know that she’s alright. I checked her Palace this morning – it’s still there – but…”

As his girlfriend began to cry, Ren held her close, letting her sob into his chest as he stroked her silky brown hair. “It’s okay, Makoto – she’s going to be okay.”

…..

Goro walked down the business district's streets and shoved the strange, disquieted feeling that had been plaguing him for the last two days to the side. His attempts at finding a replacement Palace for his trap had gone dismally - the Shadows infesting his alternatives were either too weak (meaning he wouldn't justify stalling the Thieves if needed), or they had far too much incriminating evidence about Akechi and the Conspiracy lying around in the open. So, the Detective Prince had resorted to the alternative – finding Sae, and more importantly, her bloody Shadow.

While CCTV hadn’t picked up anything, Sae had parked her car not too far from here - if she was attacked, it had to be nearby. Unfortunately, it seemed lady luck was still against him. There wasn’t a single piece of evidence that there’d been a scuffle (he knew Sae well enough to know she’d put up a fight), and none of the witnesses Goro talked with knew anything, either. Assuming they didn’t just spit on his feet and cuss him out for daring to say a negative word against their lords and saviours, the Phantom Thieves of Heart, that is.

(He couldn’t wait to shoot Okumura’s fucking face in. He was probably looking forward to killing him even more than Amamiya, at this stage).

It was then that he caught sight of a distinctive mop of black hair, and Goro did a double-take. Speak of the devil – he’d recognise Amamiya anywhere. Curiosity ran through him – there was only one reason for the Phantom Thief to be in this part of town, on a school day, nonetheless. The Thieves must have finally taken the bait and started infiltrating Okumura’s Palace. Careful not to be spotted, Goro snuck up on the other boy – the Phantom Thieves weren’t his priority right now, but if he could suss out their progress, he'd at least be able to give Shido some good news.

(Plus, he’d know how long he had to fix this latest fuck up with their plan.)

He’d gotten about ten metres away from the boy, eyes glued to the back of his grey hoodie, when Goro noticed the slender hands wrapped around his torso. Staggering backwards as if he’d been slapped, the detective’s mouth dropped open. That was – what?! Stomach churning, as he circled around Amamiya like a lion circled its prey, ice crawled through Goro’s veins. As he saw the figure standing in front of his rival the teenager froze, his worst fears confirmed.

Head shoved into Amamiya’s chest, crying her pathetic little eyes out, was Niijima fucking Makoto.

A part of Goro scrabbled for excuses – she’s going through a hard time, and Amamiya is a ridiculous sap who panders excessively to all of his useless friends – but as his rival leant forward and placed a decisively non-platonic kiss to her forward, his final hopes were dashed. Leaning forwards, the black-haired teen whispered something into the girl's ear, and Goro tore himself away – he couldn’t watch this sickening display a moment longer.

He wasn’t sure how long he ran – fuck, he couldn’t even remember beginning to run in the first place – but eventually, the detective spotted an empty alley and ducked behind an oversized garbage disposal bin. Goro… Goro couldn’t fucking believe it. Niijima of all people, seriously?! She was a poncy, stuck-up goodie-two-shoes who kowtowed to anything even vaguely resembling authority, and had absolutely none of her infinitely superior sister’s ambition, intelligence, or ruthless cynicism. Persona or not, Goro had never met anyone more fundamentally dull in his life, and yet, out of all the people in the world, Amamiya had for some reason chosen her. 

A laugh tore out of Goro's throat, bitter and hysterical and something that suited the Black Mask far more than the Detective Prince. Unbelievable. He thought he and Amamiya had a connection – that they were two sides of the same coin. Out of all the Phantom Thieves, the quiet teen was the only one with the same ruthlessness in him as Goro. While Amamiya was still weaker than him, less experienced, he grew at a monstrous rate which was as terrifying as it was enthralling. Plus, despite the fact that he was nothing but criminal trash, he navigated through life with practised ease, gaining allies and attention without his checkered past holding him down. Goro envied him. Goro hated him. If anyone could ever understand Goro, it was him, who wore so many masks the even detective couldn't keep count.

(Sometimes, in the dead of the night, he wondered what it would have been like to work side-by-side and tear Shido down from his lofty pedestal together. He tried not to dwell on those thoughts for long.)

Regardless, Amamiya was his rival - his fated foe - and Goro had thought that at the very least, his feelings were reciprocated. But no – it seemed Amamiya was still as incomprehensible to the Detective Prince as he was the day they first met. Goro was nothing but an afterthought to the shaggy-haired teen, wasn’t he? Nothing but the sad little orphan boy Amamiya occasionally deigned to hang out with when his sycophants were busy. The Phantom Thieves’ illustrious leader was probably too busy thinking about things like tits and women to give half a wit about their farce of a rivalry. Maybe that was the reason he was making out with Niijima – she was simply female and in his nearby vicinity.

Snarling, an explosion of rage burst through him and letting out a primal howl, Goro smashed his hand into the side of the rubbish container. The feeling of complete and utter betrayal running through him was so potent, he barely registered the pain that burst through his knuckles. It was then though, that a flash of inspiration struck him. The thing about Goro was that he was a creature of vengeance, and oh, he knew exactly how to get back at Amamiya for this slight. 

After all, Sae would never let her naïve little sister stay in the clutches of some delinquent criminal boy - all Goro needed to do was to make a call telling her what he'd seen, and the prosecutor would do his dirty work for him. Amamiya would wish he’d never been born, and Goro was going to savour every damn moment of it. Besides, if anyone would understand his disappointment, it’d be her. She had no patience for frivolous things like dating and love – when her favourite member of the secretarial staff had quit to get married, Sae had sulked over it for weeks.

Goro’s phone was in his hand before he could even blink. He then, however, realised the vital problem with his plan a split second before an automatic voice chimed into his ear, sending him crashing back down to reality. “… The number you have called is currently unavailable…”

Right. The whole reason he’d even stumbled across that rat Amamiya in the first place was because he was looking for Sae.

Immediately, Goro slathered on his Detective Prince mask – he was letting his emotions get to him, which was simply unacceptable. The façade felt frail though, curling around the seams – the detective knew the slightest provocation would make him snap. In the end, he decided to kill two birds with one stone. Killing some Shadows would be wonderful stress relief, and he’d probably get more answers about Sae’s fate in the tunnels of Mementos than he would up here.

Turning on his heel, Goro marched towards the train station, not a single hair out of place despite the storm brewing in his heart.

…..

Travelling through Mementos without Morgana was… weird. The labyrinthian tunnels and the pulsing, vein-like structures that permeated them had always set Ren’s teeth on edge. Still, the sensation was easy enough to dismiss when in the safety of the Monabus – he could sit back and let his friends' idle chatter drown out his unease. Now though, as the remaining Phantom Thieves trudged through the tunnel, silence draped over them like a funeral shroud. Ren wasn’t sure what made him shiver more – the unsettling atmosphere, or the chill permeating the subway.

Of course, there was a trifecta of reasons why the tension in the air was thick you could cut it with a knife. First was the obvious – Makoto’s missing sister. That didn’t exactly put any of them in a good mood. Secondly, there was the fact that none of them had quite realised how echoey Mementos was. Sure, things had been strained well before they entered humanity’s shared Palace, but the louder members of the team had still hooted and hollered before their rambunctiousness had drawn half a dozen Shadows to the Thieves' location all at once. After that, none of them had spoken to each other in anything louder than a whisper. Thirdly, on a far more practical note, walking through Mementos without the luxury of a car was simply tiring. Ren’s calves were beginning to ache, and they’d only stolen the heart of one of their planned targets for the day. A twinge of guilt ran through him – it looked like they might not even get around to visiting their yakuza suspects.

Ren was snapped out of his funk when a strangled gasp suddenly escaped Futaba’s throat. The teen turned around, about to ask what was wrong, when she slammed her palm over his mouth and pressed a finger against her lips. Glancing back at the other Thieves, the frizzy-haired teen dismissed his curiosity and gestured for them all to be quiet.

Slowly, as if not to make a sound, Futaba pointed at a distant intersection. Ren narrowed his eyes – no matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t see anything – but they blew wide open as something suddenly darted across the tracks. For a second, he thought it was a Shadow, but no – it was far too small. Something then caught in his throat as realisation crashed down on him. It was human-sized. The figure dashed out of sight almost as quickly as it arrived, but not before Ren got the slightest glimpse of its black mask.

Holy shit.

It was him, the man they’d heard about who was using the Metaverse for his own misdeeds. The culprit of the mental shutdowns. The real question was though, why now? The Phantom Thieves had traversed through Mementos more times than they could count, and yet they’d never even caught a glimpse of the bastard.

Of course! His eyes widened in realisation. It’s because we’re not in the Monabus! While the Shadows milling throughout the tunnels didn’t register anything odd about the sound of a rumbling engine, any human would notice the Phantom Thieves’ arrival well before they drove down the corridor - it was no wonder he'd avoided them until now. Now, however, they were slinking through the tunnels as silently as the Black Mask himself.

“… We should be out of his hearing range now.” Futaba whispered. “Necronomicon is locked onto him – it’ll chip into the processing power I can spend cracking Okumura’s bio-lock, but…”

“It’s worth it.” Makoto hissed, red eyes blazing. “If he’s working with Okumura, there’s a chance he knows what happened to Sae.”

Ren furrowed his brow. “Oracle, did you get his power level?”

“Strong – stronger than us.” She bit her lip. “I mean, we could possibly pull out a win, but…”

… But it’s not a risk worth taking, especially when we’re down a man. Ren internally concluded, feeling somewhat torn. They’d never have noticed the Black Mask with Morgana here, and yet, they’d never be able to defeat him without the not-cat either. His stomach twisted. There was no point dwelling on it, though – Futaba would only be able to keep him in her sights for so long.

Ren stroked his chin, mind racing. “Let’s follow him, but we won't engage. If we can find any clues about why he’s here or who he is… that’s enough for today.”

“Even… even if he’s here to kill somebody?” Ann whispered, fiddling with her hair.

He hated the feeling that washed over him. “Even then.” As cold as it was, Ren would sacrifice a stranger over his friends any day. Judging by the way none of the Phantom Thieves put up any objections, most of them had probably come to the same conclusion.

Flicking his coattails out of the way, he pursued his prey, his comrades falling into step. Careful to remain out sight, they ignored any Shadows they passed, focussed solely on their target.

“He’s stopped.” Futaba swallowed.

Cautiously, Ren glanced around the corner and wasn’t at all surprised to see the twisting vortex that indicated the early stages of a would-be Palace. Scrounging around through his gear until he gripped a Goho-M just in case, he slowly entered the portal. A brief moment of disorientation ran over Ren as he tumbled out of the twisting spiral, but the second he got his bearings he slipped into the shadows, the rest of the Thieves following him not even a second behind.

Thankfully, it seemed Black Mask was far more focused on his target than he was on his surroundings. “You.” He snarled, baritone voice full of primal fury. “Where the fuck is Niijima Sae?!”

He took in a sharp breath, and to his side, Ren felt Makoto stiffen.

“Why the hell should I tell you that, huh?” The Shadow bristled, hands shoved in his pocket as he attempted to loom over his enemy. He was a skinny man in his thirties or so, with a thin moustache and tacky suit. “I ain’t gonna waste my time talkin’ to some two-bit punk.”

A brutal grin crossed the Black Mask’s face. “Well then. I guess I’m just going to have to get my answers the fun way. Loki!”

The Shadow’s form distended and bulged before exploding into black sludge, and reformed into an elephant-man that wielded a wicked scimitar. Simultaneously, a lanky humanoid figure whose body was covered in dizzying black-and-white stripes manifested behind Black Mask, glowing with the distinctive blue lighting of a Persona.

What followed could only be described as a slaughter.

Loki pelted waves upon waves of cursed energy at the Shadow, blistering and bubbling its skin while simultaneously weakening it with debilitating spells. The Black Mask was as impressive as his Persona - he dashed forward at blinding speeds, scouring the elephant’s body with his serrated blade, and when that barely touched its skin, he fired into its rotund belly at a point-blank range. Judging by the sound of the gunshots, Ren was pretty sure the pistol in his hand wasn’t just a model. The Shadow tried to strike back, attempting to cleave Black Mask in two with his blade, but letting out a maniacal laugh, the assassin dodged it with ease.

“Is that all you’ve got?!” He taunted. “Hah – you talk a lot of shit for someone so pathetically weak!”

“Why, you little…!” The Shadow rumbled, casting a buff on itself before charging forward, but the battle was already lost.

Effortlessly, Black Mask sidestepped, sticking out his leg and tripping the beast over. It hit the ground, hard, and cacking, the assassin unloaded bullet after bullet into its head until the Shadow stopped squirming underneath him. For an awful, horrible second, Ren thought he might have just witnessed a mental shutdown in the flesh, but the Shadow then twitched, before turning back into a yakuza thug. Yelping, the man scrambled away from his attacker, but the Persona-wielder merely watched him in bemusement. There was nowhere for the Shadow to go, after all.

“Prepared to answer my questions now?” Blask Mask purred, the menacing delight in his voice sending a not-necessarily unpleasant shiver down Ren's spine.

…..

“Look, man, the only thing I know about Niijima is that she took down some of my homies – that’s all, I swear!” The crook gibbered, watching Goro with wide, pathetic eyes.

“Wrong answer.” The detective grinned, before stabbing his sabre deep into the bastard’s thigh. The Shadow let out an agonising scream, and Goro revelled in every moment of it. The fight itself was pitiful, so he had to get his entertainment somewhere.  

“I swear it! I swear it!” The yakuza howled, tears and snot dribbling down his wretched face. “Please, I’m telling the truth – I didn’t even know anythin’ had happened to Niijima to begin with!”

… Dammit! Goro cursed, his good mood ebbing away – while Shadows could lie, they never did when their lives were this close to the wire. Frustration boiled within him, and in a fit of petty spite, he punched the wall, following it up with a kick for good measure. He was halfway through his suspect list and hadn’t even gotten a single clue.

“… Say, why d’ya care so much, anyway?” The Shadow peered at him. “Is she your girl or somethin’?”

“What?!” Goro spluttered, before recoiling in disgust. “Ew – of course not! Niijima Sae is a desperate, gullible, moronic bitch!”

As soon as the words had left his mouth though, something heavy coiled in his stomach, as the detective’s memories flashed back over the last two years. To his first days in the SIU, where he'd met a silver-haired woman who'd clearly been none too pleased she'd been tasked with babysitting, but who had given him a chance regardless. To the long days they'd spent in the office where without even asking she’d grab coffee for the both of them – dark, with no milk or sugar, just the way he liked it. The way Sae watched over him during their sushi dinners, listening to his theories with genuine interest shining in her eyes. There was no passion there, unlike his game of cat-and-mouse with Amamiya, but there was stability. Calmness. Peace.

“… She's the only person in this world who gives half a shit about me.” Goro whispered softly, scarcely able to believe the words that had just come out of his mouth.

The Shadow wrinkled its nose. “So why're ya calling her a bitch then? Kind of an asshole move, don't ya reckon?”

“Fuck off.” Was a peeved Goro’s incredibly intellectual answer, before he shot a bullet into the Shadow’s knee.

Sighing, he stowed his pistol away. Even though his information gathering had gone nowhere, a bit of petty violence had cheered him up after the utterly wretched day he had. Feeling more at peace than he had in hours, he left the platform and walked back into Mementos proper, blissfully unaware of the eyes piercing into his back. 

Chapter Text

It was on the fourth day after Haru’s disappearance that a flicker of anger passed through Kunikazu, and something deep inside him fundamentally shifted. If Haru refuses to marry Sugimura, she’s worthless to me.

It wasn’t until noon the day after, however, that the worry and paranoia that had been tickling Kunizaku’s brain the last few days bloomed into something else. The herald of his changing viewpoint was a call from Sugimura himself.

“Well?” The politician’s son snarled. “Have you found your damned brat yet? I’m not going to introduce yourself to my father for free, you doddering old fool.”

Kunikazu stiffened, outraged that the insolent prat dared speak to him like that, but the CEO held his temper. Sugimura’s rage wasn’t unjustified – if Kunikazu was in his shoes, he’d be livid. Because of that, he also knew the redhead wouldn’t be placated by simpering excuses. Instead, he went for honesty.

“If Haru hasn’t been found by the end of the week, I’ll renegotiate the terms of our… contract.” Kunikazu replied delicately. “Even if I cannot offer you my daughter, I can make you a happy man, Sugimura.”

It was true. Kunikazu knew exactly what the politician's son liked – expensive hookers, booze, and hard drugs. He also knew exactly what he needed – namely, a pleasant wife that could give him a son and would be willing to turn a blind eye to all his indiscretions. If not Haru herself, he was sure one of his company’s executives would have a daughter of a suitable age.

As his prospective son-in-law snarled you better into his ear and hung up the phone, however, Kunikazu trembled with unreleased fury. Some of it was directed towards Sugimura himself – the only thing the brat had going to for him was his family name – but most of it was directed towards his errant daughter. Yes, even without her, he had enough to offer the politician’s son, but that didn’t mean Kunikazu’s reputation would remain unscathed - he'd look like a feeble-hearted fool if word got out that he’d been unable to stop his daughter from abandoning his family. His would-be political allies would turn on him in droves – Kunikazu's dreams of becoming prime minister would be dead in the water. After all, why would anyone trust a man with running a country, if he couldn’t even control his household? 

Unless… unless Haru hadn’t run away on her own violation.

If his daughter had been, let’s say... kidnapped and held hostage for a few days before sadly dying at her captor’s hands, that would be a tragedy, not an error on Kunikazu's behalf. It would look utterly crass if Sugimura’s father refused to support him in light of such a devastating loss, given Haru was going to be his daughter-in-law. In fact, it would be perfect for his platform in general – Okumura Kunikazu, a grieving father who still had the strength to campaign for a safer Japan despite facing such a deeply personal tragedy. Yes, the public would lap that up!

Withdrawing his phone and going to his contacts, Kunikazu’s hands hovered over Shido Masayoshi’s name.

.....

A subtle red haze filled the air as Haru pressed her back against the wall, hidden from the patrol’s view by a large lounge. Several security drones floated down the corridor, lined up in a V formation. As they reached the intersection, they rendezvoused with another similarly sized group of not-robots and screeched to each other in their electronic voices.

“NO INTRUDERS DETECTED IN THE FACILITY PASSAGEWAY.”

“MISS HARU HAS NOT BEEN SEEN IN THE BARRACKS EITHER.”

The heiress’ brow wrinkled. They were looking for her? That was odd – it had been ages since her encounter with the blue-skinned clone of her father. She thought if anything he’d have ordered his security to find her then and there. It wasn’t until both the patrols had gone out of sight that Haru let herself relax.

Stepping back into the open, she gestured for Sae to follow. “I think the coast is clear – let’s go.”

The silver-haired woman smiled. “Good – if my estimates are correct, we’re near the facility’s exit. Hopefully, we’ll be back on earth sooner rather than later.”

A trickle of excitement ran through Haru. The past however many days hadn’t been all bad – Milady was one of the greatest things that had ever happened in her life, after all – but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to getting out of the spaceport. She was physically and emotionally exhausted – the brunette would kill for a long, hot bath and a three-course meal. While she knew it wasn't as urgent, Haru also longed for the feeling of the breeze on her face and moist dirt under her fingers. She’d been surrounded by enough steel and iron and electricity lately to last her a lifetime.

The women crept down the hall, and Haru peered around the corner, finding the proceeding corridor thankfully empty. Gesturing for Sae to follow, she’d barely stepped out into the open when half a dozen security drones suddenly burst out of a room and floated into the hall. Heart fluttering in shock, she tried ducking out of sight, but it was too late.

“INTRUDER DETECTED! ACTIVATING PURSUIT PROTOCOL…”

“Run!” Sae ordered. “There’s too many for us to fight!”

Nodding, Haru happily let the other woman take the lead as they dashed in the opposite direction. The scarlet light filling the spaceport intensified, pulsing like the beat of a heart. The heiress stumbled, senses overwhelmed, but Sae gripped her arm firmly and dragged her around a corner before pushing her into an empty room.

“Hide – hopefully, they won’t search this place too thoroughly.”

Haru scrambled under a desk as Sae slipped behind a filing cabinet, and not a second too soon. The automatic door swung open, and a security drone poked its masked head into the room, swivelling it left and right. Haru’s heartbeat echoed in her head like a drum, and the heiress held her breath, careful not to make a single sound. An eternity seemed to pass and black spots entered her vision, but finally, the robot turned on its heel and left, the door closing behind it.

Gingerly, both women left their hiding places, Haru taking in a deep gulp of air.

“That was far too close…” Sae murmured, examining their surroundings curiously.

They hadn’t hidden in one of the strange storerooms that wavered between dimensions, but in an office with a sweeping view over the futuristic city. Control panels and holographic monitors dotted the room, though the spaceport’s impressive technology had started to feel rather mundane to Haru by now. As she glanced at a table though, she saw a datapad perched precariously on its edge. She'd seen them in the hands of the little blue robots that scurried about, but the brunette had never seen an abandoned one before. Idly, she picked it up, but the second Haru saw what it contained, her eyes blew wide open and her breath caught in her throat.

“Sae-san, I found a map!” Haru gasped, heart racing. The schematics of the spaceport were lit up in blue, with the datapad’s location displayed as a red dot. Oddly enough, however, despite the magnitude of Haru’s discovery she didn’t get a response. A flicker of unease ran through her, and she turned to face the other woman. “Sae-san…?”

The silver-haired woman was standing at the other end of the room, so still she could have been a statue as she stared at one of the monitors. Half concerned and half intrigued, Haru approached her. As the heiress peered over Sae’s shoulder, she could see the words Project Utopia emblazoned on the screen, a glowing wireframe spaceship rotating underneath it.

“I’m an idiot.” Sae facepalmed. “I’m a complete and utter idiot.”

Haru furrowed her brow, unsure exactly how to respond, but the prosecutor beat her to the punch.

“I know where we are.”

“R-really?!” Haru gasped, eyes as wide as saucers at Sae’s shock announcement.

“It’s obvious.” The prosecutor groaned, perching on one of the control panels. “We’re in Okumura Kunikazu’s heart.”

The brunette gaped, her mind racing back over everything she’d seen the last few days. The tiny robots that worked and worked until they broke, just like the men in her father’s factory. The blue-skinned mockery of her dad, who’d unabashedly voiced all the awful thoughts that clearly ran through his head and yet was too polite to say out loud. As she examined the monitor that triggered Sae’s realisation, her eyes widened. Project Utopia… of course! It’s father’s plan to leave Okumura Foods and become a politician instead!

“… Oh my.” She covered her mouth with her hand. The brunette supposed that explained what Milady was, too – she was Haru’s heart, who’d become a weapon for her to resist his control.

It was then though, that a flash of realisation ran through her, followed by a surging wave of hope. If they were in Kunikazu’s heart, did that mean they could change him – remove the blemishes that had twisted him from a distant but caring father and into something else? Could Haru get justice for all those people her father hurt – his workers, his rivals, Haru herself – while saving the scant remnants of her family at the same time? The irony of the situation then struck her – the Phantom Thieves had ignored her cry for help, so fate had given her the tools to change his heart herself.

The heiress couldn’t help but laugh.

Sae clearly interpreted Haru’s reaction as something else, and grimaced. “Look, I know it sounds farfetched, but-”

“No, no, I believe you.” Haru raised her hand and interrupted. “It’s just… funny, I guess. I actually posted my father’s name on the Phansite before all this hullabaloo started, but they didn’t respond to my request. But now, I can fix him myself!”

The prosecutor’s expression turned troubled – Haru wasn’t particularly surprised she wasn’t all too keen on the Phantom Thieves, but something about the look in her eyes made her pause. Sae let out a deep sigh. “Honestly, it’s probably for the best they ignored you.”

“Excuse me?” The brunette blinked.

Sae averted her gaze, biting her lip. As the seconds trickled by, Haru thought she wasn’t going to get a response, but eventually, the prosecutor started to talk. “What do you know about the mental shutdown and psychotic breakdown epidemic?”

Haru peered at her oddly, baffled about the sudden change of topic. “Um… just what I’ve heard on the news – people are suddenly falling into comas or attacking other people unprovoked, right?”

Sae nodded. “That’s the gist of it. I shouldn’t technically be telling you this, but considering the circumstances…” The silver-haired woman straightened her shoulders, going into full professional-mode. “For the last several months, the SIU has been treating the incidents as if they are one and the same. Both phenomena involve sudden, psychological shifts within people, and have no medical or environmental triggers. Plus, while they were seemingly random at first, now that we have more data on them, there are clear trends in the people who suffer from them. CEOs, politicians, public officials…”

“How awful.” Haru shuddered. The psychotic breakdowns were one thing, but the mental shutdowns… if someone was deliberately causing them, it was practically murder.

“That’s not all.” The prosecutor continued. “Ever since April this year, there’s been one more type of incident that functions the same way. People changing drastically overnight, with no explanation why… community leaders who the citizens of Tokyo looked up to until they confessed to their crimes…”

“Wait – are you talking about the Phantom Thieves?!” The heiress gaped.

“Exactly. It makes sense – there’s evidence the psychotic breakdowns started occurring up to six months before the first recorded mental shutdown. If the perpetrator’s capabilities are growing more sophisticated over time, is it really that much of a stretch that the Change of Hearts are their doing as well?”

“But, why?” Haru wrinkled her nose. “The mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns are both utterly awful, but the Change of Heart targets, they…”

“They deserved it?” Sae arched a brow. “Perhaps. But I think that’s half the point. The Phantom Thieves have whipped the public up into such a frenzy, the media have all but forgotten about the breakdowns and shutdowns. Trust in our government and the justice system is at an all-time low. If they’re aiming to disrupt our society, they’re succeeding.”

“Hmmm...” The brunette rubbed a glove against her chin. “I suppose I can see where you’re coming from, Sae-san, but…”

“You disagree with me?”

“I’m sorry, but… I can’t see the Phantom Thieves being involved in such awfulness. I was there in Shujin when the first calling card was posted – it was a bit childish, but, well, forgive the pun, full of heart. Whoever wrote it wasn’t a cynical member of some conspiracy, but someone who saw injustice around them and refused to simply tolerate it. No – I think it’s far more likely the Phantom Thieves are people like us. People who stumbled into this strange place by accident, and decided to use it better the world.” Ignoring Sae's shocked expression, Haru continued. “Not to mention… shouldn’t a society that enables a man like my father be criticised?”

The prosecutor’s jaw dropped open, and a thousand different emotions flashed across her face, most of them some variant of surprise. Haru couldn’t help but giggle – she’d never seen Sae stunned speechless before. “I… I guess you have a point…” She murmured, unable to meet Haru’s eyes.

The brunette furrowed her brow. She thought Sae would pout, put out by the fact she couldn’t refute Haru's statements. Instead, the prosecutor’s posture was rigid and her gaze pensive. Unease stirred within Haru – something was wrong, and she sincerely doubted it was a teenage girl mildly disagreeing with a theory of hers.

“Is something the matter, Sae-san?” Haru bit her lip, worried.

The older woman flinched, guilt flashing across her features. Letting out a deep breath, she deflated. “I… I’m not investigating your father because of the rumoured workplace abuse.” If Sae was even slightly less composed of a person, she would have been squirming. “I’m investigating him because he’s the chief suspect in the mental shutdown, psychotic breakdown, and Phantom Thieves cases.”

“W-what?!” Haru staggered backwards, feeling like she’d been punched in the stomach.

She was under no delusions that her father was a good man – for heaven’s sake, he viewed his own daughter as nothing but a tool – but working people until they broke was a very different sort of evil than actively orchestrating the death or insanity of his enemies. The former was an impersonal sort of cruelty – the workers were nothing but numbers on sheets to him – but the latter… it was deliberate in its malice. Ruining people’s lives wasn’t merely a by-product, but the end goal.

“That… that can’t be true.” She swallowed. “Father is a bad man, yes, but… he isn’t a murderer.”

“I doubt he’s physically causing the shutdowns themselves, but whoever’s doing it is almost certainly acting under his orders.” Sae crossed her arms tiredly. “Over thirty-three per cent of the incidents benefit Okumura in some manner.”

“Thirty-three per cent...?” Haru latched onto the number. “That’s… that’s not particularly high at all.”

The look the prosecutor gave her was pitying. “… Yes, but then sixty per cent of the remaining incidents benefit social contacts or prospective political allies of his. When you take that into account, Okumura’s involvement is obvious, and now that we’re here… we can prove it.”

“Huh?” The teenager scrunched her brows, caught completely off-guard by the sudden pivot.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sae’s attention moved away from the teenager and back to the monitor, and her eyes drilled into the screen like it held all the secrets of the universe. “If this is his heart, there’s bound to be proof of his crimes lying around somewhere. If we can just find them, I’ll finally be able to win this case…!”

Haru gaped at the prosecutor’s complete and utter insensitiveness. Winning?! Was that seriously all that was on Sae’s mind right now?

The teen scoffed, both incredulous and outraged in equal measure. “We? We? I’m sorry, but why on earth would I help you with this?”

When the prosecutor turned to face her, there was nothing but confusion written across her features. “What do you mean? I thought you wanted to take your father down.”

“I want to stop him from hurting his workers. I want to stop him from hurting me. On the other hand, I have no interest in letting you use me as a tool just to prove your outlandish theories!” Haru snapped. “I can’t believe it. You know, you’re a truly excellent actor, Niijima-san. For a moment, I sincerely thought you were a good person. But no – you’re just like my father, aren’t you? You don’t care about right and wrong – just gains and losses!” Incensed, the heiress did not wield her words as if they were a blunt axe, but a stiletto blade, and slit them between Sae’s ribs. “I feel sorry for your sister – I know just what it’s like to live under the thumb of someone like you.”

She knew she’d crossed a line the second the words left her mouth, but then again, that had been the point. Haru had intended to hurt the other woman, and it was clear she succeeded. Sae took an involuntary step backwards, a strangled gasp escaping her throat. The blood drained from the prosecutor's skin at Haru’s accusation, almost as if the latter had actually punctured her flesh. Her eyes were wide, shocked and hurt in equal measures, and the heiress felt nothing but satisfaction. Perhaps now she'd think before she spoke.

Just like Haru knew it would though, Sae’s expression quickly changed. A wall of defensiveness shielded the gaping wound the teenager had left in her side, and fire ignited in the prosecutor's eyes, burning away the hurt that had lingered there before. The heiress had trampled over her pride, and Haru knew her well enough by now to know that wasn’t an indignity Sae would take laying down.

“How… how dare you speak to me like that?! All this damned time, I’ve been trying my hardest to keep you safe, and you repay me by comparing me to a murderer?!” A vicious scowl marred Sae's beautiful features. “You know what – you’re right. I don’t know why ever I thought some spoiled rich kid would be helpful. People like you are all the same – the second something looks like it'll rock your comfortable little boat, you close ranks despite your so-called morals."

As Sae marched towards the room’s entrance, Haru glowered at her back. Her rant didn't even deserve the dignity of a response. 

The prosecutor paused as she reached the door, voice cold. “I’m going to find the evidence I need. You can do whatever the hell you like.”

“Fine, then.” Haru narrowed her eyes into slits. “I think I will.”

Marching forward, map in her hands, she brushed past the prosecutor before storming down the spaceport’s halls.

Chapter Text

“Milady, mapsio!” Haru yelled, power coursing through her veins as she stared down several golems.

Colours twisted and warped around her foes, crushing the strange creatures until they were nothing but mere black motes. Haru did not cackle with delight, even as Milady’s dauntless defiance lifted her like the way the wind lifted a sail. No, that would have been beneath her – instead, a smile both soft and malicious crossed her face as she bowed at her enemies’ corpses.

“… Adieu.” She whispered, one final farewell before she moved on to her target.

Milady’s rebellion was one of betrayal, and it was time for Haru to start embracing it. Opening her map, the heiress glanced at her location. Good – she was nearing the far end of the barracks. She reached her destination sooner rather than later, and head held high, marched imperiously into the office.

The bulky green robot dominating the room whirled around at her entrance, and while it had no eyes or mouth to emote with, it somehow managed to emanate disdain. “HWA-HEM! WHO ARE YOU? HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?”

She did not cower or stammer out apologies the way the old Haru would have. She also dismissed the etiquette lessons that had been drilled into her since she was a child – being dainty and demure would not save her here, or anywhere else for that matter. Instead, as Haru flicked her eyes up and met the robot’s imperious stare, she channelled her father.

“I thought a man of your station would recognise the president’s daughter, but I suppose I must be mistaken.” Haru sniffed. “How unfortunate – father won’t be pleased when he hears about this…”

As expected, the machine crumpled instantly. “L-LADY HARU!” He fell to his knees, supplicating himself before her. “PLEASE, DON’T HURT ME!”

Stepping forward, she stroked his iron cheek. The teenager barely resisted giggling – she’d always preferred superheroes over supervillains, but this was pretty fun too. “Don't fret – I’m willing to forget this… incident, as long as you answer my questions.”

The robot stiffened at her touch. “I’LL TELL YOU ANYTHING AS LONG AS YOU SPARE ME!”

“Where is my father’s heart?”

Silence seemed to stretch between them for an eon, but when Haru drummed her fingers against the shaft of her axe, the robot finally caved. “… PRESIDENT OKUMURA’S GREATEST TREASURE IS IN THE WEAPON PRODUCTION FACILITY.”

“Thank you.” Haru smiled. “Milady, psio.”

Her guardian spirit blasted the machine with psychic energy, reducing it to smithereens. The second the robot was gone, the grin dropped off Haru’s face. Blast. That was on the other side of the spaceport. Still, she wouldn’t give up here – she had a heart to change.

As expected, the trek to the weapon production facility was tedious. If it wasn’t for Haru’s righteous anger buoying her she never would have had the nerve to dash under the hydraulic presses to get to the factory’s other side, let alone jump out into the cold expanse of space to navigate through the airlocks. But the power of rebellion in her was strong, and a blue inferno engulfed her as she sneaked, battled and dashed towards her goal.

In the end, a panting Haru finally reached the elevator at the end of the transfer line. The brunette grinned. At last – her father’s heart was mere minutes away. She’d claim it for her own, and bring this whole facility crashing down.

I’ll save the workers my father is abusing, and make him change back to the man he should have been.

I’ll free myself from Sugimura.

I’ll prove you wrong, Sae-san.

As she stepped out of the elevator, the heiress surveyed her surroundings. There were no security droids loitering around – she supposed her father thought the airlock maze was enough to keep out any unwanted guests. Stacks of crates that could have been filled with anything lined the corridor’s side, and Haru tried her best to remain unphased by the way her footsteps echoed against the cold metal floor, puncturing the silence. She swallowed, glancing down at her map - it wouldn't be long now until she reached the end of the weapon production area. Looking up, the brunette’s brow furrowed. She’d expected to find a cannon or some other contraption that represented her father’s cruelty. Instead, behind a sheet of bulletproof glass, was… a softly glowing cloud. Just what on earth is that supposed to be? Eyes narrowing in confusion, Haru took a step forward and rested her hand against the transparent wall.

It was a mistake.

The second she touched the glass surface, a siren blared through the air as flashing red light filled her eyes. Gasping, she stumbled backwards, only to whirl around as she heard a squelching sound behind her. Two security robots had manifested out of thin air, but neither moved to attack. Instead, a slow clapping echoed through the room, and Haru’s heart caught in her throat as her father’s other self stepped out of the shadows.

“I should have known you’d come here, prodigal daughter of mine.” He gloated, golden eyes shining in wicked glee. “To think that you’d try slipping your knife into my back, of all people! I taught you well, didn’t I?”

“You taught me nothing, father.” The brunette shook her head, pained. “My virtues exist in spite of you, not because of you.”

Kunikazu ignored her, but then again, that wasn’t exactly a shock by now. “Still… I’m sorry, but this teenage rebellion of yours ends here. It’s a pity.” He sighed, expression exaggeratedly forlorn. “I wouldn’t have cared much if you pulled this silly stunt after Project Utopia’s launch, but as it stands, you’re getting in the way of my dreams, and that’s simply unacceptable.” Malice shone in his eyes as he leant forward. “Do you want to know what the difference between us is, Haru?”

“… Experience?” She answered tentatively, hands tightening on the grip of her axe. She’d fight him if she had to, but that didn't mean she'd enjoy it.

“No!” He cackled. “It’s resources! I have connections could never even dream of! Here, let me show you.” Kunikazu grinned, before pulling out a clunky handheld radio and cocking his head. “Hello, sir? Sorry to bother you, but there’s a rat in my Palace. Mind lending me your shutdown services? You’ll be duly compensated.”

“W-what?!” She shrieked, eyes wide in horror as her world came crashing down.

Did… did he just say shutdown services? Haru’s blood ran cold, ice filling her veins as she finally opened her eyes. Her hope at returning to her once-pleasant status quo had blinded her. She’d dismissed Sae’s claims out of pocket - partially because the faults in her other theories were so egregious, but primarily because she'd felt insulted and offended that the prosecutor had tried to deny her deepest, most desperate desire. But Sae had been right all along, hadn’t she? Even if he wasn’t the mastermind, her father’s fingers were undeniably buried deep in the world’s most awful pie.

Change of Heart or not, Okumura Kunikazu simply wasn’t able to be saved. He’d be stuck behind bars for the rest of his natural life, but even if he somehow wasn’t, Haru simply didn’t think she could sip tea and talk about her life with someone who had ordered multiple assassinations.

Her father had been dead for years, and even if he returned, their relationship wouldn’t.

She... she was right. Sae-san was right the entire time.

Kunikazu tapped his chin, oblivious to his daughter’s breakdown as he listened to whoever was on the other side of the radio. The tyrant frowned, deep in thought, until he looked Haru in the eyes and smiled. “The name? Okumura Haru.”

Her heart caught in her throat, her father's words piercing her more surely than any bullet. The heiress' hands trembled as every single hair on the back of her neck rose up. He... he couldn’t be serious. As a vortex of darkness whirled at his side before solidifying into a black-plated robot, however, the heiress realised he very much was.

The machine her father had summoned was nothing like the cartoonish robots populating the rest of the spaceport. Its body was almost entirely pitch black, outside of glowing red lines that traced its figure like circuitry. In contrast to the other machines' blocky bodies, her father’s hired assassin was made entirely of sharp edges. Spikes jutted off its shoulders, and its head wasn’t humanoid at all, looking like some horrific mashup between a crow and a wolf. As the eerie vermillion dots that made up its eyes locked onto Haru, a deep and primal dread began to flood through the girl.

“Happy hunting!” Her father crooned, shooting his hired killer a wicked grin before swanning off, both of the security drones following him like flunkies.

Haru barely paid him any heed, however, all her attention focused on her would-be murderer as it withdrew a glowing red lightsaber and pointed it her way.

“Milady, psio!” She called, shivering like a leaf as she touched her mask, but to her absolute horror, her Persona didn’t manifest.

I’m sorry, mon chéri… my powers are at their limit.

Almost on cue, a wave of exhaustion crashed into Haru with so much strength it almost knocked her to her knees. The only reason she'd ever made it this far was because of her fury. With it gone, she was running on nothing but embers. The brunette had been fighting almost non-stop for hours, and now, she had finally hit the wall. Of course, her assassin didn't care about that. The machine lunged at her, its complete silence only enhancing its brutal mien. She barely managed to twist out of its way before its blade came crashing down, glowing edge biting into the metal floor. Haru hissed – if her psychic powers were no longer available to her, she’d need to try a different approach.

“Triple down!” She yelled, and ignored the burst of pain that ran through her body as Milady floated into the air and launched a hail of bullets at her attacker.

Haru was under no delusion a paltry attack like that would take the robot down, but it would buy her some time - the most precious resource of them all. As the killer shielded itself with its armguards, she bolted away and charged into the elevator. The second it recovered the machine chased after her, but mere inches before the assassin was upon her, the elevator's doors slammed shut. Haru almost collapsed in relief as she was taken away from her would-be killer. Still, she knew not to let down her guard - she had a minute's head start at best. A ding rang through the air as the lift finally reached its destination, and ignoring the way her body struggled in protest, the heiress forced herself to her feet. Not even daring to look behind her, she ran.

Jumping through the airlocks had been both exhilarating and vexing in equal measures when she’d first gone through them. Now though, the labyrinthian maze only gave her peace – hopefully, the assassin would have just as much trouble navigating its way through them as she first did. Haru should have known better than to get her hopes up, however. She’d barely managed to get past the airlocks and back to the disposal line (and oh, that word had such a different meaning now), when she felt rather than heard something behind her. She dodged to the side, and if the brunette had been even a second slower, the assassin's blade would have embedded itself deep in her back.

Haru reached for Milady, more out of desperation than any real expectation that she’d somehow have miraculously regained enough energy to attack. She wasn’t disappointed – no surrealistic energy blasts detonated against the robot’s side. Mustering her nerve, she reached for her axe. If she had to die, she’d rather go down fighting instead of desperately fleeing for her life. Let Okumura Haru’s last stand be a glorious one!

Swinging her axe, she scoured a blow across the machine's torso, chipping its paint. It lashed its laser sword at her and Haru danced away, gritting her teeth as the burning light skimmed across her skin. Summoning her Persona, she pelted bullets at the foul creature. It jerked erratically, pinned in place by her assault. The brunette moved in close, holding her axe up high before she swung it down in a mighty blow. The robot managed to recover before her blow could connect though, and sliced its blade at her weapon’s shaft. Haru could do nothing but watch in horror as the red light tore through the wood like it was nothing. The head of her axe fell to the ground, landing with a metallic clunk.

Disarmed, injured, and so exhausted she could barely even move, Haru could do nothing but watch as the machine raised its blade into the air, ready to snuff out her life.

It was at that exact moment, however, that a gunshot pierced the factory din, and one of the robot’s eerie red eyes flickered and died as a bullet punctured in. The machine staggered back, sparks spluttering from its eyesocket, and Haru glanced over her shoulder, hope and horror embracing her in equal measure as she saw Niijima Sae standing twenty metres behind her, barefoot and with a pistol in her hands.

…..

It took about half an hour after their fallout for Sae to realise she was being ridiculous.

We’re under no obligation to look out for some ungrateful brat. It’s every man for themselves in this bitch of a world.

Exactly! She hissed in concurrence as she stormed down the winding corridor in the opposite direction from Hary. She’d tried to keep the girl safe out of nothing but the goodness of her heart, and all the heiress had done was thrown that back into her face. Fine then. If Haru wanted to run off and get herself killed pursuing some idiotic fantasy, that was her prerogative. It wasn’t like Sae was getting paid to put up with her childish tantrums.

… But that’s what she is, isn’t it? A child. The awful voice of her subconscious whispered into her mind. You wouldn’t have taken someone accusing your father of something like that at her age particularly well either.

She’s a teenager. She should know better. If I’d treated someone like that at her age, nobody would have tolerated it.

Sae shook her head, clearing the voices away – quite frankly, she didn’t want to think about how her father would have treated her if he’d caught her being so rude to an adult. He'd probably have given her a long, disappointed look and one of his sighs, because god forbid she ever showed a single negative emotion.

The only reason you’re so upset with Haru is because you think she might be right.

We’re nothing like Okumura. We’re not a villain – we’re a hero. After all, aren’t we fighting for justice?

The prosecutor halted in her tracks. Justice… was that really why she’d come to Okumura Foods? Yes, she very much wanted whoever was responsible for the mental shutdowns and psychotic breakdowns to end up behind bars, stopping them from ever hurting anyone again, but was that genuinely what was motivating her here?

Don’t be silly. You know ‘justice’ like that is nothing but a fairy tale. We’re here so we can win and finally get what we deserve, instead of being forced to beg for scraps! Isn’t THAT what true justice is?

Something twisted in her stomach. The voice was right – she did deserve more than being a mere disposable cog in an unfeeling machine. Sae was smarter, infinitely more hard-working and simply more talented than most of her colleagues. Yet, they got so much more recognition than her simply because they were born the right gender and had wealth and connections her family simply didn’t. That was the real reason she’d driven to the business district that night – if Sae somehow managed to claw her way to victory despite the odds, she’d finally even the playing field between herself and her co-workers.

Perhaps it was self-serving, yes, but that was simply the way people were. At the same time… was that honestly the sort of person Sae wanted to be?

Want? Want has nothing to do with it. We don’t have a choice.

It was the way the world worked, after all. People got ground down until they were nothing, unless they clawed their way to the top. And Sae was so tired of working herself down to the bone for a mere pittance and no respect whatsoever.

… Except that’s EXACTLY how Okumura Kunikazu thinks, isn’t it?

Sae froze, the revelation feeling like a slap to the face. Making sure the coast was clear, she ducked into a nearby storeroom and barely resisted vomiting all over the floor. Wrestling her breathing under control, Sae rubbed her aching temples. The idea of being anything like that twisted, disgusting man... it chilled her to her core. So what if the mysterious, dark voice was right? Was success even worth it if the path led to becoming a man like him? And it would, wouldn’t it? While it hadn’t been something she’d dabbled in herself (yet), she knew how cavalier most of her colleagues were about things like forging evidence and beating confessions out of suspects. She’d turned a blind eye to it for long enough, after all.

… No. Sae clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles went white. I refuse to become a monster like – like him! She wasn’t going to let her disgruntlement at being forced into parenthood taint her relationship with her sister. She wasn’t going to sacrifice her soul purely to satiate her boss’ whims. She wasn’t going to hold a petty, immature grudge against an upset teenager, simply because she didn’t take the revelation her father was a mass murderer by proxy particularly well.

Sighing, Sae slipped out into the hallway and headed in the direction Haru had fled. The silver-haired woman wished she'd actually paid attention when the teenager said something about a map – god knows one would have been handy right about now. She’d fumbled her way through the offices and into the facility surroundings when suddenly, the world exploded with red. Lights flashed so intensely they were almost blinding and a piercing din echoed throughout the spaceport. Taking in a sharp breath, Sae’s eyes widened – just what the hell had Haru done?!

Mustering her courage, she leapt across the hovering pods until she reached the factory. For a second, she faltered, wincing as she glanced between her exposed feet and the clanking machinery before her. Then again, it wasn’t like Haru’s lace-up pumps would give her much protection, and she'd clearly managed to get through here. Resigning herself to the fact that this was going to suck, Sae advanced into the bowels of the spaceport.

Thankfully, she managed to advance through the factory with all her toes intact, even if there were a couple of near misses. As she reached the production line, Sae faltered when she realised that if she wanted to continue, she’d need to run under a hydraulic press, but it was then that she heard a desperate roar and the screech of metal against metal.

Heart racing, Sae threw caution to the wind, pressed the button on the control panel, and bolted. The prosecutor managed to reach the end of the disposal line just in time to see a robot with sleek black armour standing over a collapsed Haru, laser blade primed to strike. Acting more on instinct than anything else, Sae raised her pistol and fired. Despite the fact that it had been years since she last touched a gun – one of the few skills her father had deigned to teach her – her shot fired true. The bullet pierced the machine’s eye and it stumbled backwards, away from its target.

Haru slowly attempted to push herself upright. Racing forward, Sae helped her the rest of the way, half-slinging the girl across her shoulders. Now that she could see the teenager up close, it was obvious how exhausted she was – Haru’s skin was wan and pale, and beads of sweat dripped down her forehead. Her every breath was a wheezy rattle, but most chilling was the look in her eyes. Sae had seen them bright and cheerful, blazing with determination, and smouldering with rage. Now, all warmth had left them, and the dark rings under Haru’s eyes had no place being on a teenager’s face.

“I… I’m so sorry, Sae-san.” The heiress gasped for air. “Y-you were right about him. Father, he’s…”

Sae bit back her instinctive urge to say yes, I know. It was her lack of tact that had gotten them into this mess in the first place, after all. Instead, she sighed. “I’m sorry too – I should have handled that better.”

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of creaking gears. Glancing away, Sae cursed as she saw Haru’s pursuer straighten itself, remaining eye glaring malevolently at the prosecutor. Automatically, she fired another shot. Unfortunately, it turned out her prior success was more the result of luck than skill – this time, she missed the eye and the bullet pinged off its head. The attack still made it reel backwards, however, and Sae took the opportunity to run.

“Come on – let’s go!”

Haru attempted to keep up with her, she really did. While it was significantly slower running through the factory with the girl, the heiress had enough energy – or to be more accurate, adrenaline – left to at least manage a jog. The hydraulic presses actually turned out to be a boon, much to Sae’s surprise. Another potshot delayed their pursuer long enough for one of the presses to come crashing down between them, giving the women a head start they desperately needed. Still, there was a reason Haru had been lying on the floor when Sae found her, and primal instincts could only keep a broken body going for so long.

They’d barely reached the front half of the factory when Haru stumbled, nearly taking Sae down with her. Fear and frustration flickered through the prosecutor, but her harsh words died on her tongue when she saw the brunette’s glazed-over eyes. There was no point urging her to just hold on a little longer – it was a sheer miracle Haru was even conscious.

Unfortunately, while the brunette had hit her limit, their enemy was still fighting fresh. Uncannily silent, the robot raced towards them, sabre at the ready. Sae pointed her gun and fired, but this time, she was merely greeted by a faint click. It felt like someone had dumped ice water on her – she was out of bullets.

“Haru-chan, can you use your psychic attacks?” While Sae’s voice was superficially level, even she could hear the terrified tremor underneath.

Haru shook her head, barely even able to keep herself upright at this stage.

Seeing nothing else for it, Sae threw the pistol at the machine’s head, only for it to bounce off harmlessly. Mind racing, she attempted to find a solution – any solution – to this situation that would get both of them out of this alive. Dread pooled in Sae's stomach when she came up blank. Without Haru’s strange powers, her chances of beating the robot in a fight were non-existent. At the same time, Sae would never be able to outrun their enemy while carrying the exhausted teen.

It was a cold equation. Sae could try to hold off the machine as long as she could, hope Haru recovered enough to escape in the meantime (which might not even happen), and inevitably get herself killed in the process. Alternatively, Sae could leave the teen behind and flee, ensuring her own safety but guaranteeing Haru's death in her stead.

A hysterical laugh escaped the prosecutor’s throat. What sort of shitty choice was that?! Despite the sweat that saturated her suit, Sae felt like she was freezing in her skin. She… she couldn’t die here. She refused to do to Makoto what her father did to her – for god’s sake, her sister hadn’t even finished high school! Besides, as grim as the thought was, it wasn’t like Haru had anyone depending on her. Sae could – no, would – get justice for her. Okumura would pay for his sins, and Haru could rest knowing that her death hadn’t entirely been in vain.

But… the girl was Makoto’s age. She was nothing more than a child. Could Sae truly, honestly live with herself if she just let her die? The answer was yes, if only for her sister’s sake, but that was a very different thing from forgiving herself for it. Sae didn’t think she’d ever be able to look at herself in the mirror again if she had another person’s blood staining her hands.

As the robot gained on them, the prosecutor stood still, torn between two extremes. In the end, it was Haru who made the decision for her.

“Go.” The teenager whispered with the last of her remaining energy, forcing a smile that was nothing but heartbreaking. “Leave me. I’ll… I’ll be alright.”

The lie was so blatant it was ridiculous. Bile rose to the back of Sae’s throat as her grip on the brunette loosened, and she gave her surroundings one last scan. It was then that her eyes settled on the conveyor belt behind her – it was moving in the direction of the factory’s exit. There was no point in both of them hopping on – the robot would just follow them – but… but as long as one of them stayed behind as bait, it would carry the survivor well away from their pursuer.

The ice running through her veins was replaced by steel, and without another moment’s hesitation, Sae pushed Haru onto the belt. The brunette was powerless to resist her, and landed with a thud as Sae turned back to face the black-plated machine. Tuning out Haru's horrified screams, Sae gripped the handle of her stolen sword, before wordlessly charging towards the one-eyed robot.

Chapter Text

Haru braced herself for the leap, ignoring the protests of her aching legs, and jumped. She hit the hover pad with a thump, partially slipping off its side, but she managed to haul herself to safety at the last second. The heiress refused to die in such a dismal way - if she fell to her death here, then Sae’s sacrifice would have been for nothing. As her thoughts drifted back to the prosecutor, a whimper escaped her mouth as Haru burst into tears. Hot water and snot dribbled down the teenager's face as she trembled, half curled into a ball. The terror in Sae's eyes had been as clear as day, but despite that, she’d somehow given Haru a wavering smile as she pushed the teenager onto the conveyor belt.

For just a moment, a wave of fury ran through her, drowning the guilt that sat heavy in Haru's heart. A heartbroken scream tore from her mouth as the brunette punched the cold metal surface of the hover pad. She cursed her impotence – she had Milady, she was meant to be strong now - and finally, she cursed the world. This wasn’t… this wasn’t fair. What about Sae’s family? How was Haru supposed to look them in the eye, and tell them their sister had died purely because she had been a sentimental fool?

The heiress was so blinded by her grief and rage, she wasn't paying a mote of attention to her surroundings. Unfortunately, Sae keeping her father’s hired assassin at bay was different from the spaceport being safe. A screeching alarm filled the air as a spotlight shone down on Haru, and she blinked the tears from her eyes just to see a security drone charging at her at unnatural speeds. It exploded into dark sludge, and Haru couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all as it turned into several women with demon wings. The brunette could barely stand. It looked like Sae’s death was going to be pointless after all.

One of the women fluttered closer, ready to claw Haru with her pointed talons, when suddenly, a yell pierced the air.

 “Zorro, magarula!”

…..

After getting foiled by the bio-lock and then being chased across Okumura’s Palace by a whole swarm of Shadows, Morgana had been forced to retreat. Still, he wasn’t going to go crawling back to the Phantom Thieves just because he faced a minor setback – that would just verify that he wasn’t worthy of fighting at their sides!

It had taken several days of scheming, and just as much time casing the Okumura Foods Headquarters, but eventually, Morgana found the opportunity he was waiting for. The thing about something like a biometric lock in a Palace was that it didn’t actually scan for a person’s DNA – just their recognisability. So, if Morgana wanted to pass through, all he’d need was a cunning disguise. Admittedly, it was a bit hard to make one when he had no opposable thumbs, but he would make do.

(He’d never admit it, but he missed Ren.)

Shuffling on his haunches, the not-cat stared down at his target. The middle-aged man crossed the carport, eating a bun with one hand and holding a briefcase in the other. Morgana had overheard him calling Okumura the other day, and judging by his tone of voice, he seemed chummy with the CEO - in other words, a perfect victim. As soon as he was in range, Morgana leapt into the air and ignored the man's squawk as he landed on his shoulders and ripped off his toupee with his teeth. Jumping back down to the ground with feline grace, the not-cat ran away, his ill-gotten gains safely secured.

The second he’d put enough distance between himself and his businessman, Morgana entered the Metaverse. The instant he materialised in the Palace, the not-cat’s hackles rose. The air was throbbing with tension, and fractured red light crept into the corner of his vision – the security level was high. Something, or more realistically, someone had set Okumura off. Morgana bristled – he wasn’t going to let the Phantom Thieves steal away his prize!

(That would mean he was worthless, after all.)

As he shoved the toupee onto his head and headed to the bio-lock, Morgana couldn’t help but frown. Still... it was a bit odd. The Thieves had never aggravated a Palace Ruler this much before - Morgana thought he’d taught them better than that. Something warm and fuzzy bloomed in his chest. Hehehe – maybe they’re getting sloppy without me! That would mean he was a vital and necessary member of the team after all! His high spirits remained as his gambit turned out to be a success - the stolen wig was enough to bamboozle Okumura’s security, giving him full access to the Palace within.

The further he progressed into the spaceport, however, the more his good mood began to dim. Morgana had gotten so used to working as a team, he’d forgotten what traversing the Metaverse alone was like. The ire of every Shadow he encountered was focused purely on him, and without the elemental coverage the Thieves had available, there was no knocking his foes down before executing them in an all-out attack. Without the others’ keen eyes and knowledge too, navigating his way through the Palace’s puzzles took thrice as long.

By the time he’d cleared the barracks and reached the facility’s surroundings, Morgana’s despair was at an all-time high. Wheezing, he took a quick breather. All that effort, and he wasn’t even halfway through the spaceport yet...

He was half tempted to trudge back home in defeat when a scream suddenly echoed through the air. The not-cat shot upright in alarm – he’d never heard a voice filled with so much anguish and fury before, not even during the Phantom Thieves’ awakenings. Alarmed, Morgana’s prior tiredness evaporated as he leapt across the hover pads, tiny heart racing.

As he saw several Lilims poised to strike, he yelled. “Zorro, magarula!”

A gale of air burst from his Persona and sent the devils scattering. Relief crashed over the not-cat – they were one of the few Shadows in the spaceport vulnerable to wind. One more attack was all that was needed to reduce the Lilims to atoms.

Threat eliminated, he turned towards the Shadows' target, a boast in his throat. As he looked at the person the devils had been attacking though, it died in his mouth. It wasn’t one of the Phantom Thieves. In fact, Morgana had never seen the girl in his life. What he did see, however, was her black mask. His every hair rose – was it her? Was she the one skulking through Palaces and using them for her own nefarious misdeeds?!

As he looked into her wide eyes, red with tears and filled with so much hope it would have crushed a lesser man, the tension fled his shoulders. No, there was no way she was behind the mental shutdowns. The girl was beaten, bruised, and bloody – she wasn’t even armed. No one who’d been using the Metaverse for so long would let themselves get in such a state. That wasn’t even taking in how emotionally exhausted she looked – Morgana was somewhat surprised she was still maintaining her spirit of rebellion.

“You’re hurt. Here.” He frowned, before summoning Zorro again and casting diarama.

Soothing green light embraced her, and gasping, the girl staggered back to her feet as colour returned to her cheeks. Instead of thanking him or gaping in bewilderment as she wondered why a cat was there, she instead staggered to Morgana's side, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“Please, you have to help me.” She gasped. “Sae-san, s-she’s back in the factory – she’s trying to defeat father’s assassin, but she can’t, she doesn’t even have a Persona, a-and…!”

“Wait, you’re not here alone?!” Morgana’s eyes widened to the size of saucers as he looked at the girl in horror.

He couldn’t even comprehend how someone without a bloody Persona had made it this far into the Palace, let alone how they were duelling some cognition if the girl's story was accurate. Dammit – little wonder she was terrified. Every second wasted was a second they couldn’t spare.

“Lead the way!” He ordered. “If we work together, I’m sure we can save her!”

(It was at that moment that Morgana desperately wished he had his team with him.)

…..

Sae parried the black-plated robot’s laser sword with her blade, and cursed as the glowing red beam of light bit into her own sword’s metal. She knocked it to the side before disengaging – losing her weapon would mean death, and Sae really, really didn’t want to die.

(A dark voice deep down inside her whispered that it was an inevitability. Her fate had been sealed the second she’d prioritised Haru’s escape.)

The machine stabbed at her, once, twice, and Sae twisted out of the way. Darting forward, she swept her leg at the robot’s feet, faintly hoping she’d be able to trip it. Unsurprisingly, her attack was a failure – flesh and bone simply didn’t stand up to cold iron. If she was any slower pulling her leg away, the robot would have chopped it right off then and there.

Just what the hell is this thing, anyway?! The prosecutor narrowed her eyes. The rest of the machines inhabiting Okumura’s heart were clearly facsimiles of the workers that occupied his quarters, but she had absolutely no idea what the machine attacking her right now was meant to represent.

Unless… Her eyes widened. Of course! It was the ‘perpetrator’ of the mental shutdowns – Okumura’s pet assassin. Sae swallowed, stomach churning as Haru’s about-face suddenly began to make an awful lot of sense. He’d set the monster onto her, hadn’t he? While she’d always known Okumura was a bastard, even she could barely wrap her head around the new low he’d sunken to. He was willing to kill his own child for the sake of his business – it was so utterly depraved, it was almost cartoonish.

No matter how cartoonish it may be though, it didn’t make the robot doing its damned best to kill Sae any less dangerous. It swung its blade down, and she hopped to the side, slashing at its torso. A wave of triumph ran through her as her blow hit home, gouging through the metal and snipping wire underneath. Her elation was short-lived, however – the woman’s blade jammed in place, and Sae’s eyes widened as she desperately attempted to tug it free. As she wrenched it out she stumbled backwards, and the robot immediately pounced. Heart racing, Sae desperately attempted to block the assassin’s blow, but she was just a fraction too slow. Its glowing blade skimmed past her own, and pierced the prosecutor’s abdomen.

Immediately, agony exploded in her side, and for a split second, Sae’s vision whited out. Sword slipping from her rapidly numbing fingers, colour returned to her eyes just in time for her to see the robot tear its burning blade out of her guts. Oh. The world spun around her as she staggered, enemy forgotten, and instinctively grasped the gaping wound in her midsection. It’s not bleeding that much. The sword must have been hot enough to cauterise the wound. Unfortunately, just because she probably wasn't going to bleed out didn’t change the fact that there was a significantly sized hole in her organs to begin with.

The robot took a menacing step towards her, but there was no need. As droplets of blood stained Sae’s trembling fingers, a wave of giddiness overcame her, and the prosecutor fell to the ground like a puppet with cut strings. She barely even felt it as she hit the cold iron floor – even the wound in her side felt like nothing but a distant ache. Despite her failing senses, ice lodged in her heart and bile rose to the back of her throat when Sae realised that this was it. She… she was dying, wasn’t she? A pathetic, whimpering sob escaped her mouth - not because of the pain, but because of the cloying waves of fear and grief that choked her lungs.

A thousand thoughts flashed through Sae’s mind – not of her life, but of her regrets. She was never going to leave the country, travel across fjords or ski on foreign slopes. She was never going to have a romantic evening at the opera – fuck it, she wasn’t ever going to have a romantic evening, full stop. She was going to miss her sweet, baby sister’s entire life – Sae would never get to see Makoto start her career, or have a family. She wasn’t even going to get her graduate high school, for god’s sake!

There was… so much she hadn’t done. So much life she hadn’t lived. And yet, she was going to die alone and forgotten in a spaceport that didn’t even exist, all because she’d wanted to gain the respect of people who were never going to give her the time of day no matter what she did. Her entire life had been a complete and utter waste. Even her bloody father had at least died for a cause he believed in.

It… it wasn’t fair. A faint ember flickered into Sae’s chest, and for just a moment, a prickle of anger pierced the cold dread that gripped her. She’d… she’d never gotten to travel overseas, go to the opera, go on a proper date, or see her sister grow up. And that was bullshit.

No, it isn’t fair at all. Why should you be cursed to suffer such a short, miserable existence, when bastards like Okumura get to run free?

Logically, Sae knew karma didn’t exist. In fact, if anything, it was the opposite – bad people got to reap the rewards of their depravity while innocents were left to suffer. Still... while Sae knew she didn’t want to be a cold and unfeeling tyrant, nor did she want to be some pathetic waif who got crushed under stronger men’s heels instead. She refused to be a disposable machine – milked for all she was worth before being tossed to the side like trash.

Arms aching, Sae pushed her body off the floor, ignoring the way her vision had dimmed so much she could barely see the world around her.

I… I'm not going to die here. I’ve got so much I want to do. Starting with tearing off Okumura Kunizaku’s arrogant face!

Attagirl. The voice that had haunted her ever since she’d stepped into the spaceport purred, its prior coyness replaced by genuine pride. This world has forged you into a blade. Will you finally start fighting for yourself and what you truly believe in, instead of being a mere tool for others to wield?

“Yes…” Sae hissed.

Haru had been right – it wasn’t worth trading in her body and soul to fit into a society as depraved as theirs. The prosecutor would dismiss those small but ever-present doubts about her life and her work no longer. She would conquer her anxiety instead of letting it restrain her, and fight for true justice over peaceful conformity. For the first time in her life, she would walk the path she wanted, instead of the one she had been forced onto. She would live, and love every minute of it.

Very well! I am thou, thou art I… We will not just be a sword, but a shield too – a knight that serves no king or master, but instead fights to protect the ones they love!

Something wrapped around her face, and the prosecutor jolted upright, now wide awake. She didn’t know what it was, only that she had to get it off right here, and right now. Staggering to her feet, the wound in her side felt like a mere paper cut as she grappled with the mask that had appeared on her head. Her fingers curled around its cool metal ridges, and as Sae tore it away, a laugh of relief pealed from her throat. Despite the warm blood dripping down her cheeks, she felt nothing but anticipation as a torrent of blue fire engulfed her.

“Persona, Jeanne d’Arc!”

Out from the inferno stepped a spectral knight. From head to toe, she was clad in brilliant silver and gold armour, and long, flowing hair trailed down from the back of a helm that obscured the upper half of her face. Her black lips formed a smug grin, and in one hand, she wielded a shield the size of Sae’s body, and in the other, she carried a weapon that was one-half sword, and one-half rifle. The blue flames then trailed down Sae’s form, replacing her torn suit with a dark leather jumpsuit covered in pitch-black body armour. A cape draped down from her shoulders and spikes jutted from the plates covering her body, like some strange fusion between a dark knight and a biker queen.

Sae didn’t pay her new attire much attention for long, however, and instead stared down the export line and into the back of the robot that had almost ended her life. Its head swivelled around at the unexpected noise behind it, clearly having left its target for dead. This time, however, Sae wasn’t the one who was too slow.

“Sword dance!” She yelled, and Jeanne d’Arc raised her weapon into the air.

A myriad of blades manifested in the air above the robot, spinning dramatically before hurtling down at their target faster than a bullet. The swords tore straight through the assassin’s iron hull, and sparks flew from the machine as its body jerked erratically. As the robot fell to its knees, Sae savoured the feeling of power rushing through her as she slowly walked to her foe’s side. She hadn’t felt this good in years. Still, she’d been in enough fights to know it was never worth toying with your opponent. No – she’d finish this off quickly.

Resting the tip of her stolen blade against the robot’s brow, she drawled. “One-shot kill.”

Her Persona raised her rifle and in a hail of gunfire, reduced the assassin’s head to atoms.

The factory was not silent in the wake of her victory, but as the robot disintegrated into motes of darkness, the ambient noise seemed oddly distant. She’d… she’d won. Sae would live to see another day – she’d get to fulfil all those small, mundane dreams she'd shoved to the side in her pursuit of success. It was mindboggling – for years, the prosecutor had one singular purpose, but now, it was like a myriad of paths had opened up before her. A part of her was still afraid – her newfound Persona hadn’t blown away all her old worries, even if some of them felt vaguely petty now – but mostly, Sae felt exhilarated.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by the sound of footsteps clattering against the ground. Looking up, the prosecutor's eyes widened as she saw a familiar brunette charging her way. Haru wasn’t alone – a strange, bobble-headed cat thing followed her closely, determination shining in its bright blue eyes. For a brief moment, Sae wondered what the hell it was, before internally shrugging. What the hell – Haru was a magical girl now. Having a mascot was par for the course.

Wait… does that mean I’m a magical girl too? Sae wrinkled her nose, entirely unsure about how she felt about that revelation.

As the heiress finally set eyes on her, every feature on her face wrinkled in confusion before her eyes blew open in shock. “S-Sae-san?!”

“Hello, Haru-chan.” The older woman smiled, a wave of relief flooding through her as she took in the younger girl’s demeanour.

While there were still rings under her eyes, the colour had returned to her skin, and as she raced to Sae’s side, there was energy in her steps. Haru was okay – they were both okay. Naturally, it was at that moment that a wave of vertigo hit the prosecutor with all the force of a freight train. Swaying, she was only prevented from hitting the floor by the teen’s surprisingly strong arms.

“Mona-senpai, is she alright?!”

“Yeah, she should be fine. Her health is kinda low, but nothing worrying.” A boyish voice replied, though Sae didn’t pay it too much heed, barely clinging on to consciousness. “Awakening is always exhausting. Come on, there’s a safe room nearby – we can talk more there.”

Chapter Text

There was no noise other than the clink of cutlery as the Phantom Thieves half-heartedly finished their dinner. A pall that was both sombre and unsettled in equal measure had fallen over the group ever since their encounter with the Black Mask in Mementos. Suffice to say, the discovery of the killer’s identity had been one hell of a bombshell, and Makoto was still reeling. Sure, Ren had offhandedly told her to be wary of the Detective Prince, but Akechi potentially being aware of the Metaverse was very different to him being the one responsible for the breakdowns and shutdowns. Unfortunately, nobody could find any flaws with her boyfriend’s theory – after all, who else was cognisant of the Metaverse and liked her sister enough to torture someone for her sake?

The ensuing discussion of Akechi's motives had lasted all afternoon, and by the time the Thieves left Mementos’ depths, it was after five in the afternoon. Ryuji had suggested hopping over to the Bikkuri Boy diner and grabbing an early dinner – they’d skipped lunch in light of the day’s events, after all. Sure, the only proper dinner food on the menu was the nostalgic steak – unlike Ann, Makoto didn’t have it within her to eat a towering pole of ice cream for a main meal – but none of them exactly felt like going to Big Bang Burger right now.

As Makoto remembered Akechi’s chilling laugh and the manic look in his eyes, she shuddered. Chewing at her tasteless steak, she idly wondered if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Sae’s crazy evil mass murdering co-worker was genuinely attached to her.

(A part of Makoto could barely wrap her head around such twisted devotion, but deep down inside, the kernel of rage that had birthed Johanna whispered good – Sae deserves such reverence.)

At the thought of her sister, Makoto’s stomach twisted and she put down her knife and fork. Reaching for her phone, she whispered. “Niijima Sae, courthouse, casino.”

Ever since the Phantom Thieves had discovered her sister’s keywords, Makoto had been periodically searching her name. She had no intention of returning to Sae's Palace – quite frankly, there wouldn’t be any point – but it was a nice reminder that her sister was out there. That she was still alive.

Makoto was expecting yet another please move closer to destination message, but this time, she was greeted by something else entirely. “This destination has been deleted.”

Her phone had already slipped out of her hand and clattered against the wooden floor by the time by the time she fully processed what it had said. The brunette’s body went numb with shock, while simultaneously feeling like someone had just punched her in the stomach. Choking, Makoto scrambled for her phone and hurriedly whispered Sae’s keywords again. There had to be a mistake. Her Palace couldn’t just be gone. Despite Makoto’s desperate hope, however, the Metanav’s response remained the same.

“This destination has been deleted.”

If the atmosphere was tense before, now, it was teeming with horror. The blood had drained from all of her friends’ faces, and outside of a stony Ren, their eyes were wide with fear as they stared at their strategist. For a moment, the world seemed to drift away - everything spun around her and static buzzed in her ears as Makoto struggled to breathe.

The brunette was snapped back to reality as Ren’s hand suddenly clamped around her fist. “Futaba, how much longer until Necronomicon cracks the bio-lock?”

She winced. “A bit under a week. Maybe if I camp out in the Palace itself I could cut that down a bit, but…”

Bile rose to the back of Makoto’s throat. By then it would be too late. (It probably was already too late. Sae was gone. Gone like their mother and father. Gone, gone, gone, leaving Makoto all alone.)

“… I’ve got an idea.” Ren murmured, his low voice. Light reflected off his glasses, hiding his eyes. “You’re not going to like it, though.”

…..

Goro skived off class that morning, intending to resume his trawl through Mementos. Luckily, the SIU director had a couple of targets he wanted to inflict a psychotic breakdown on (an upstart co-worker jumping at his heels and a son’s girlfriend he disapproved of), so the elderly man would be more than willing to cover for him. As soon as he entered the sprawling tunnels, however, the detective noticed something odd.

A section of red rope cordoned off the escalators leading into the collective unconscious' depths. Blinking, he approached the newfound roadblock curiously, eyes honing in on a sheet of parchment taped to the rope. As he got closer, Goro saw there was writing on it, and immediately froze when he saw what the words said.

     To the Black Mask.

Cursing, he whirled around, senses on full alert. The air in Mementos was stagnant, however, and the only signs of life were his harsh breaths and beating heart. The assassin forced himself to calm down – while he wasn’t a natural navigator like the Phantom Thieves’ latest addition, he was skilled enough at the art. No, the Phantom Thieves were long gone by now. Besides, it was hardly surprising they knew of his existence – he’d frequented both Madarame's and Kaneshiro’s Palaces, and Shadows were chatty things.

Goro turned back to the note, so plain for something so incriminating. It was a mere sheet of paper - the words were typed onto it in a generic font, none of the Thieves' usual pizzazz on display. The detective knew he should leave it alone – it was so blatant a trap it was pitiful. But then again, his rivals already knew about him, and it wasn’t like he’d leave behind any physical evidence with his gloves. Simply reading the letter wouldn't hurt. Besides, Goro had always been an inquisitive child. He wanted to know why the Phantom Thieves were attempting to contact him now of all times. Somehow, he sincerely doubted it was a politely worded message asking him to stop killing people, please.

Throwing his caution to the wind, he grabbed the letter and began to read.

     Recently, it’s come to our knowledge that you’re searching for Niijima Sae.

Immediately, his heart caught in his throat. Dammit – they must have overheard him yesterday! But how? That ridiculous bus of theirs kicked up a racket like none other. Something cold trickled down Goro's spine, and he gave his surroundings another cautious scan. Somehow, during the long gaps between their tangential encounters, the Phantom Thieves had gotten stealthy enough to spy on him.

He supposed it was worthwhile picking up the letter just for that titbit – it was a good reminder that despite the gulf in their skills, he needed to be cautious. Shaking his prickle of uncertainty away, Goro continued reading.

     The answers to your questions lie in the Palace of Okumura Kunikazu (Okumura Foods Headquarters, outer space, though I’m sure you’re already aware of that).

At that, a sharp laugh tore its way out of Goro’s throat, and he cradled his head in his hands. Of course. Of course bloody Okumura was behind Sae’s disappearance! She’d all but stated she’d do whatever it took to win this case, and he was the target she’d set her eyes upon. The Detective Prince groaned. Unbelievable. He'd thought Okumura would shy away from getting his hands dirty directly, but then again, the bastard had always been pretty liberal about who he hired Goro to deal with. The CEO acting against a threat in the real world was most definitely not beyond his capabilities.

     Neither of us can progress further without bypassing his bio authentication. Unlike you, we can make Okumura reveal the truth. Unlike us, you have the resources to get past this annoying little roadblock. So, we propose a collaboration. Deliver Okumura Kunikazu to his Palace before Tuesday evening, and we’ll get you the answers you need.

     - The Phantom Thieves of Hearts

Incredulously, he read the letter again. The Phantom Thieves… wanted him to kidnap Okumura Kunikazu. They wanted him to kidnap Okumura Kunikazu. Goro’s brows rose to the roof. He always thought the Thieves were stupid, but that confirmed it. How the hell had they even come up with such a ridiculous idea?! Admittedly, Goro technically had both the ability and lack of moral qualms to do it. Shido wouldn’t even care – they were going to dispose of Okumura anyway. Still, did they seriously think he’d jeopardise his entire operation by showing them his face?

Logically, he knew he should put the note down and leave this damned place, but despite that, Goro remained rooted to the spot. It was just… everything about the latter was just so tantalisingly Amamiya. Wild, unpredictable, and flat-out fucking nuts. A treacherous voice then whispered in the back of his mind. Your mask and helm cover your entire head. Beyond that, there isn't a single similarity between the Detective Prince and his true self. The way Goro talked, carried himself, smiled… all of it was perfectly crafted to help him fit into modern society. If the detective stopped putting up his constant façade, he’d be unrecognisable.

…. In fact, now that Goro thought about it, he could use this to his advantage. If he did a good enough job (and he would - he always did), there was no way in hell the Phantom Thieves would ever suspect him by the time he blackmailed his way onto the team. They’d have seen the Black Mask in person after all, and would never connect him to the softly-spoken, mild-mannered boy in a white prince’s suit. Plus, as reluctant as Goro was to admit it, a Change of Heart would be far more effective at wheedling Sae’s location out of the man than anything he could do. Shadows talked, yes, but they were capricious. He doubted Okumura’s inner self would even remember the prosecutor.

Tucking the letter into his pocket, the assassin left Mementos.

…..

A wave of relief flooded through Haru as Sae groaned, rubbing her eyes before sitting up. The heiress and her new companion had ended up dragging the prosecutor to one of those strange rooms that seemed to waver between reality and the spaceport after she'd fainted. Currently, it was stuck in the form of a futuristic storeroom. 

“How are you feeling?” The heiress’ brows furrowed as she watched the other woman, concern tempering her good mood back into something calmer.

“Exhausted.” Sae sighed, massaging her head. “Where are we…?”

“We’re in a safe room!” Mona explained. “It’s a weak spot in Okumura’s cognition – enemies won’t spawn here, so we can rest for as long as we need.”

The prosecutor gave him an odd look, clearly about to ask who or what he was now that she was feeling more coherent, but there was something Haru needed to do first.

The brunette dropped into a deep bow. “I’m so, so sorry, Sae-san. My naivety almost cost you your life. I know I can't take back my actions, but I promise I’ll do whatever I can to make things right.”

“There’s no need for that.” Sae raised her hands placatingly, a tired but bemused smile crossing her face. “It wasn’t like I handled things particularly well either – as the adult in the situation, I should have been more mature.” Sighing, she stared into the distance. “You were right about me, I think. I’ve been so stressed about work lately, I haven’t been a good person or a good sister. I… I think I’m going to quit?” The prosecutor sounded faintly baffled by the notion, despite it coming out of her own mouth. "I've seen the person my job was turning me into, and... she's not the person I want to be."

Haru felt something within herself unwind. “Perhaps that’s a good idea.” The brunette swallowed, trepidation and excitement warring inside her. “Once my father’s heart is changed… I want to pay restitution to all the people he hurt. I don’t really know where to start, however – I know nothing about running a business, or corporate law.”

Sae’s expression softened. “It’s not my area of expertise, but I can certainly help you find someone who’d be able to tackle that task.”

“Thank you so much, Sae-san!” The heiress beamed.

Mona had a different takeaway from their conversation, however. “Wait, you’re Okumura’s daughter?!” The cat-like creature started at Haru in naked shock. She almost squirmed, but then something contemplative crossed the mascot’s face. “Huh, I guess that explains how you got past the bio authentication lock.”

The prosecutor peered at him oddly. “… Perhaps introductions are in order? I’m Niijima Sae.”

Something strange crossed over Morgana’s face at that, but he didn’t comment, so Haru took the opportunity to introduce herself properly. “Okumura Haru, at your service! Please, just call me Haru, though.”

“Right!” He puffed out his chest. “I’m Morgana – codename, Mona! You two should think of one too – it’s probably too late by now, but using your real name in a Palace is a bad idea. I’m a Phantom Thief!”

The silver-haired woman’s brows rose as Haru gasped in shock. “Wait, like the Phantom Thieves of Heart?!”

“… Well, I suppose this makes me infinitely more certain about my decision to leave the prosecutor’s office.” Sae sighed glumly. “How the hell is anyone meant to prosecute a cat…?”

“I’m not a cat – I’m a human, just like you!” Mona – or more accurately, Morgana – bristled. He quickly deflated however, something troubled crossing his face. “I… used to work with the Phantom Thieves, but we recently went separate ways.”

“Really? Why?” Haru tilted her head. If she was part of a group like that, she certainly wouldn't leave it.

If anything, that made Morgana even more uncomfortable. “They… they were being indecisive. They were too focused on fame instead of on our mission, so I decided to prove I was better than them all!” The not-cat’s shoulders hen slumped. “… Still, now that I think about it, I was the one being selfish. I came here just to show that I wasn’t useless – I wasn’t thinking about doing the right thing at all.”

The heiress frowned, a tingle of concern creeping down her spine. “You’re not useless at all, Mona! If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here today!”

Sae had an entirely different stance on the situation. “Even if you are useless, does that actually matter?”

“Huh?” Morgana blinked, blue eyes wide open.

The prosecutor furrowed her brow. “… Good people don’t keep others around purely because they’re beneficial for them. They hold onto their friends and family because they love them, even if they are a burden at times. If the Phantom Thieves really are heroes, it shouldn't matter even if you can't keep up with the others."

Haru tilted her head, brows furrowed. "... Are the Phantom Thieves good people?"

It would be sad if they weren't, but the brunette knew she would survive - while she had no intention of seeing betrayal everywhere like her father did, she would not blind herself to it any longer, even if the truth hurt.

Luckily, a gentle smile crossed the mascot’s face as he twiddled his fingers. “… Yeah. Yeah, they are.” Morgana then straightened up, determination returning to his expression. “I’ll have to introduce you to them sometime – they’re all pretty cool! Well, except for Skull. Speaking of Phantom Thieving, I suppose you two have a lot of questions about this place - ask away!”

It turned out some of Sae and Haru’s theories about her father’s heart were spot on the money. The strange robots were cognitions - living representations of what he thought of his workers. Meanwhile, Kunikazu's blue-skinned doppelganger was what Morgana called a Shadow Self – an embodiment of his repressed negative traits. Morgana knew so much more about the Metaverse than the mere snapshot of it Haru had seen, however. Quite frankly, she was having a bit of trouble wrapping her head around everything, but when he moved on to how a Change of Heart worked, Haru was on full alert. When the not-cat started talking about Treasures, a flicker of recognition ran through her.

“Say, do these Treasures look like golden clouds?” She asked. “I found one in the depths of father’s Palace, but I couldn’t figure out why it was so important to him.”

“Y-yeah, that’s a Treasure, alright!” Morgana looked blown away. “Desires don’t naturally have a solid form, and that’s why we need to send a calling card. As long as the Palace ruler thinks they can be stolen, the Treasure will turn into an item that we can then take!”

Haru fell silent, mulling over the not-cat’s words. Ironically enough, it seemed her anger-fuelled crusade had been even more doomed from the start than she realised. At the same time, the possibility of changing her father’s heart was so close she could almost taste it.

“Do you want to steal his heart?” Morgana looked into Haru’s eyes. “He’s your father, so you should be the one who decides his fate, not some silly poll.”

“He's right. I can’t say I really approve of brainwashing people regardless of whether they deserve it, but…” Sae pursed her lips, before seemingly changing topics. “My father was a policeman. I idolised him when I was younger. Fighting crime, saving people… it all seemed so heroic. Of course, his heroism came at a price – namely, his family. Some nights, when he hadn’t come home for days on end because he was too busy, my sister used to come to me crying, convinced that he hated us. You know how I reacted? I justified it. I told her she shouldn’t be selfish - he was out there protecting innocents.” 

“Sae-san…” Haru held a hand over her heart – the pain in the woman’s voice was palpable.

“He was always kind when he did come home, which was why I dismissed my gut feeling that something wasn’t right for so long. But then I got older.” A distant look entered the prosecutor's eyes. “I started to realise most teenagers didn’t have to raise their siblings, single parents or not. I started to realise that most police officers took their families on holidays or to the beach, even if they were busy. I started to question him, and my father wasn’t pleased at all about that. He was always… traditional, in some ways. Children were meant to listen to their parents, not call out their flaws.”

The heiress shivered. She could relate - Kunikazu never took it particularly well if Haru let even a hint of discontent show when it came to him and his decisions. 

“Everything came to a head when I was around twenty. We still tried to play happy families when Makoto was around, but she was away on a school camp." The prosecutor bit her lip. “We had a huge fight – I asked him if he actually knew anything about me outside of my grades. If he knew that I liked fantasy books and music. That my favourite flowers were roses. That I was only interested in girls and not boys.”

Haru winced. She was very aware of the sort of reception a revelation like that could receive. “He didn’t… react badly, did he?”

“Not exactly – he said he wasn’t going to indulge my ‘temper tantrum’ and then left for work.” Sae scoffed, before her expression grew pained. “I didn’t think it was physically possible he could hurt me so badly until he slammed the door on me that day. I… I just wanted an apology. Acknowledgement that he should have been better. Acceptance. Instead, he never came back – he was killed in a hit-and-run accident several days later.”

Morgana’s ears flattened. "That’s... that's awful.”

The silver-haired woman shrugged. “It wasn't as awful as what happened next. It turned out the real reason he was such a workaholic was because he’d made some terrible financial investments, and was up to his eyeballs in debt. Debts I inherited as his eldest daughter." A scowl crossed the woman’s face, not of grief, but of fury. “I hadn’t even graduated – I barely had enough money to support myself and my fourteen-year-old sister, let alone make up for his mistakes. If hadn’t been hired by the SIU when I was, we would have ended up on the streets.”

The brunette swallowed. “I’m so sorry. Nobody deserves to go through something like that.”

Sae just sighed. “No, they don’t. Do you know what the worst thing was though? It was listening to everyone droning on and on about how good a person he was. It was infuriating – he was a neglectful parent who’d left his family penniless, yet I’d be labelled the villain if I said even a negative single word about him." She met the brunette’s eyes. "I’ll never get justice for the way he treated me. I’ll never get to tell him how much he made Makoto and I suffer. You, however… you still have that chance, Haru-chan. You can make Okumura Kunikazu regret everything he’s ever done to you, and I won’t stand in your way if that’s the path you choose.”

Haru swallowed, eyes misty. “It is. It is.”

“Great!” Morgana suddenly bounced upwards with so much enthusiasm, the sombre mood was disintegrated immediately. “Why don’t you show me where the Treasure is, and then we can get out of here? Okumura’s heart will change before he even knows what hit him!”

Chapter Text

Slipping out of his chauffeured limo, Kunikazu marched briskly towards his office. Instead of walking through his corporate headquarters’ front door like some sort of plebian, the CEO had his own private entrance located around the building's rear, well away from the common riff-raff that populated the streets. Unfortunately - as Kunikazu was about to discover - being shielded from the public's eye was a double-edged sword. Namely, he was alone. So, when the sound of a gun cocking pierced the air and cold metal suddenly touched the back of the CEO’s neck, there was no one there to save him.

“W-who are you?! What do you want?” Kunikazu stammered, sweat dripping down his brow.

“Just a few minutes of your time, Okumura-san.” A voice purred, rich and velvety yet seeping with malice. “Now, if you’d just come this way…”

…..

While nervous dread pooled in his stomach – Goro still didn’t quite believe Amamiya had actually talked him into doing this – the primary emotion the Detective Prince felt was excitement. Okumura quivered before him, alternating between wheezing in panic and sobbing like the miserable worm he was, as the world rippled around them. The dredges of reality faded away, leaving the two men in what looked like a high-budget but incredibly cheesy sci-fi movie set. If Disney could see it, they would have sued.

Goro pushed Okumura forward, shoving him down the elevator and towards the bio-authentication lock. The longer they took, the antsier the assassin got - thankfully, his anticipation was quickly rewarded. When he reached his destination, the Phantom Thieves were waiting for him. Goro paid them no heed, however - he only had eyes for Amamiya. As soon as his rival saw him, the teenager's silver eyes lit up with so much delight the breath was momentarily knocked from Goro’s lungs. No – focus. You’re nothing to him. He’s too busy shagging the worse Niijima to want anything to do with you.

“I knew you’d come.” Amamiya grinned, adjusting his stylish red gloves as he strode towards his black-masked foe.

There was so much blind faith in his voice, Goro almost gagged. “Don’t misinterpret my actions, Joker.” He sneered, careful to emphasize the codename. “You’re just a means to an end. The second this situation is dealt with, you and your crew of sycophants will return to being nothing more than an obstacle in my path."

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Amamiya smiled in that infuriating way of his, before turning to the quivering Okumura. The second he set eyes on the man, his rival's lips curled in disgust. All hints of levity dropped off the teen’s face, and Goro couldn’t look away as he lifted the CEO by the lapel and smashed him into the wall. “Tell me what you know about Niijima Sae.”

“I don’t – I don’t…” Okumura wheezed, eyes wide and wild like a panicked horse.

“Don’t bother.” Goro wrinkled his nose. “The coward probably isn’t capable of doing anything right now other than pissing his pants.”

Delightfully enough, that made Amamiya look even more revolted. Shaking his head, he dumped Okumura in front of the biometric door, before reaching into his jacket and flicking a card to the ground as an electronic voice droned in the background.

“Okumura Kunikazu. We’re here to Change your Heart.” The statement was short, sweet, and had none of the Phantom Thieves' normal showboating in it. It was clear Amamiya had decided Okumura wasn’t worthy of their dramatics. “Come on, team. Let’s go.”

Swishing his coattails, Amamiya strode through the door, the rest of his merry band following suit. While the Palace’s security level had already been ridiculously inflated, it was only now that a red glow began to seep into the air.As the Phantom Thieves marched away, leaving Goro and Okumura alone, the assassin arched a brow.

“Are you seriously just leaving me alone with him?" Goro scoffed. "What if I decide to just put a bullet between Okumura’s eyes, and be done with it?”

“You can always come with us if you want.” Amamiya drawled nonchalantly, like he wasn’t speaking to someone he knew to be a mass murderer.

“Not to mention, that’s completely counter to your goals.” Niijima spoke up for the first time, rolling her eyes. “And secondly?” Her voice trailed off, and as she glowered at the whimpering Okumura, the sheer hatred in her gaze managed to even give Goro pause. “Depending on what we find, you can have him.”

The detective’s eyebrows soared to the ceiling. Huh. Maybe there was actually more to her beneath the eye. He never would have expected good-girl Niijima to remorselessly condone murder. Incredulously, he glanced at the rest of the Phantom Thieves, expecting at least one of them to stammer out some pithy objection. Instead, however, their jaws remained set with tension, fury smouldering in their eyes. Goro felt strangely off-footed as he examined his foes. He’d always thought they were shallow fools, playing heroes with no real understanding of the true power of Persona. As he looked at the Thieves, however, all he saw was a mirror of the same rage that had kept the detective going for over two years now.

Silently, he fell into step behind them.

Progress through the Palace was slow. The Shadows were on full alert, and even some of Okumura’s ridiculous cognitions leapt up at the chance to take them down, blathering about garbage notions like bonuses and promotions. Goro resisted the urge to snap at them that they weren’t real before blowing their brains out with lead. He resisted the temptation, however, and instead lingered at the back of the group while the Phantom Thieves fumbled around blindly, only occasionally shooting a pot-shot if it looked like one of the idiots was about to be mauled. He'd already shown enough of his hand already. 

As the unusual group progressed deeper and deeper into the Palace, Goro reluctantly had to admit that it could have been worse. The Thieves learnt quickly, figuring out their foes’ resistances and weaknesses and putting that knowledge into practise. By the time they reached the latter end of the barracks, they were tearing their way through their enemies like a well-polished machine. Of course, Amamiya was their best fighter by a mile – even now, envy filled Goro’s heart at the multitude of Personas he could summon.

How does he do it? How does he manage to have so many different selves?

Still, the rest of his lackeys weren’t entirely useless, even if they had nothing on their leader. Goro had wondered why his rival bothered keeping them around – he’d be able to clear entire Palaces on his own given his versatility. Now that he was witnessing the Thieves up close and personal, he was beginning to see why. Every foe Kitagawa and Sakamoto felled was energy saved on Amamiya’s behalf, and with Takamaki and Niijima sharing the burden of healing, they’d managed to clear an entire third of a Palace on maximum security no worse for the wear. Even he'd struggle to do that. Of course, the assassin would never risk relying on other people himself – he wasn’t an idiot, after all – but finally, Goro could understand the appeal.

They'd just about reached the end of the barracks when Sakura suddenly called for them to stop.

“Hold on – I’m sensing something weird.” The redhead interjected before hopping into her strange Persona. “I… I think it’s another Persona user! They’re just ahead, in the facility surroundings!”

Takamaki gasped. “Do you think it’s Mona?”

Goro furrowed his brow – he’d noticed the strange cat thing was missing, but had just assumed it had a cold or something. The tone of the blonde’s voice implied something far more serious, however.

“I can’t tell from here, but if it is, he ain’t alone!” Sakura whistled. “There’s at least two of them, maybe more!”

The detective’s brows rose to the roof. Multiple Persona users? But how? Maybe the cat has been recruiting – perhaps this schism between the Phantom Thieves is more serious than it seems. Honestly, Goro really hoped it wasn’t – his plans had been derailed enough lately without having to account for two separate teams of Phantom Thieves. That just sounded… exhausting.

As they grew closer to their targets, the sounds of battle began to permeate the air.

“It’s a group of Mithras!” A high-pitched voice yelled. “They resist physical skills, so use other elements!”

A sharp gasp escaped Amamiya’s voice, and he picked up the pace. As they ran out of the hall, the iron walls gave way to show the city’s exterior. The pathway fell away, replaced by a vast expanse populated by spiralling towers and floating hover pads. Without a moment’s hesitation, the Thieves followed Amamiya’s lead as he jumped onto one of the aforementioned pads, Goro following barely a second behind. It was risky, yes, but he'd traversed far worse in the years he'd spent in the Metaverse.

“Okay! Milady, triple down!” The speaker's voice was unfamiliar - soft and gentle with a bright edge. She had to be one of the other Persona users Sakura detected.

“Why aren’t guns counted as physical skills? That’s ridiculous.” A final voice groused – also female, but far more cynical in nature.

An explosion echoed in the not-so-distant distance – Goro saw a flash of blue light, which was promptly followed by a yelp. “Stop complaining and start fighting!”

“Fine, fine! Jeanne d’Arc, one-shot-kill!”

Jumping on top of a platform and ignoring a safe room, Goro rounded the corner before leaping back down to a lower level. He finally caught sight of the mysterious Persona users as the Shadows they were fighting disintegrated into dark blobs. The cat creature was in the lead, just like Sakura and Amamiya had clearly anticipated. Its ridiculous eyes were narrowed in concentration, and its chest was puffed out in a clear (and failed) attempt at looking intimidating.

Mona’s companions were far more interesting, however. He didn’t need the redhead’s scanning ability to see that they were both exhausted, for one. Their depleted magical reserves were so severe, it practically radiated off them, and sweat and dirt in equal measure stained their costumes. The first of the women – though she was more of a girl, to be accurate – had one of the stupidest concepts of rebellion Goro had ever seen. What the hell was she meant to be, a Renaissance cosplayer? Even the furry samurai made more sense. The second figure's guise – definitely an adult, this one – was far more sensible. Dark armour, a flowing cape, and a metal visor – Goro found that he approved. As he watched the woman, something tickled at the back of his mind. It was hard to get a good read on her with all the static distorting the air, but something about her seemed familiar…

He was snapped out of his thoughts as Amamiya suddenly yelled, and hurtled himself towards the cat at reckless speeds. “Mona!”

The creature’s blue eyes widened as its mouth dropped. “Joker?!” Realisation flashed across its face as it gasped. “Hold on. This security level… you’re here to steal Okumura’s heart, aren’t you? How on earth did you get past the bio-lock?”

“Long story.” He waved a hand lackadaisically, like he hadn’t orchestrated a kidnapping with the aid of a known mass murderer. “It would have been much easier with you, though.” Smirk fading off his face, Amamiya glanced over at the others. “Who are your companions?”

Sakura tweaked her goggles. “Judging by that hair, you’ve gotta be Okumura Haru, right?”

The pantalooned girl’s brows rose, before she let out a giggle. “Correct – it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Phantom Thieves!”

Meanwhile, the longer-haired woman tilted her head. “Huh. You’re… younger than I thought you’d be.”

The itching feeling returned. Goddammit – Goro knew that voice. If it wasn’t for the Palace’s distortions, he would have been able to place it instantly.

Niijima, however - rather understandably in hindsight - had no such trouble. “… Sis?!” She gawped, boggling at what was now obviously Niijima Sae.

The prosecutor blinked, a comically alarmed expression flashing across her face as finally recognised her little sister. “… Makoto?! What on earth are you doing here?”

The Phantom Thief ignored Sae’s question, however, and threw herself at the woman, embracing her in a hug. “Oh, oh thank god. I was so scared you were…” Niijima broke off with a sob.

Still looking supremely confused, Sae slowly patted her sister’s back. “I’m sorry. I… I never meant to make you worried.”

Goro watched the display, something twisting in his stomach.

(It was relief – Sae was alive and well.)

(It was jealousy – he wanted what Niijima had so, so much.)

(It was acceptance – Goro had made peace with the fact he’d never get to enjoy anything as trivial as family and friendship ever again. He was nothing but a curse, something he’d learned how to relish over the years.)

As the Phantom Thieves crowded around the trio, exclamations of delight and shock in equal measures escaping their throats, Goro silently slipped away. For the first time in days, the agitation that had been rolling under his skin had vanished, replaced by a rare sense of peace.

The journey back to the Palace’s entrance was uncannily quiet compared to the ruckus of working with the Thieves. Sensing his superior prowess, the Shadows kept a wide berth from him, and sooner rather than later, Goro was back at the spaceport’s beginning.

As he passed Okumura, still snivelling on the ground, Goro paused. He could kill him here and now with ease. Shido wanted him dead, after all, and the second the Phantom Thieves banished his Shadow, he would be rendered immune to Goro’s powers. Plus, while getting caught in a collapsing Palace hurt like a bitch, it wasn’t lethal. Sae would be fine if Goro ended Okumura’s miserable life.

Instead, as the bastard grovelled for mercy, the detective shook his head in faint disdain and walked away. It’d be a pain in the ass passing off a very real murder as the Phantom Thieves' signature supernatural trickery. Given Sae’s Palace would be gone in the wake of her awakening too, Goro would need some time to find her replacement. He’d let them have this victory, and set up another target in Okumura’s stead. Perhaps the SIU Director would do – he was replaceable, in the end.

(It was his last favour to Amamiya, a final concession for his rival before Goro brought their dangerous dance to an end. Things between them were even now, and Goro could cleanse himself of the other boy with no regrets.)

…..

Morgana barely noticed it as the dark figure at the Phantom Thieves’ rear slipped into the shadows. Instead, he was too busy catching his former team up to date, boisterously (and quickly) explaining what had happened over the past week. Things were a bit awkward at first – as much as Morgana knew he’d messed up, the thought of begging for forgiveness made his pride scream in protest – but it seemed everyone was too happy at being reunited to dwell on the past. Well, with one exception, that is.

“I can’t believe this. You joined the Phantom Thieves? Seriously?” Sae groaned, cradling her head in her hands.

Makoto winced for a second, before shaking her head, resolution burning in her eyes. “I’m not going to apologise for it – I don’t regret what I’ve done. Still… I am sorry that I've probably made things more difficult for you at work.”

“That’s… that’s okay. I forgive you. If it wasn't the Phantom Thieves, it just would have been something else...” Sae sighed, something troubled flashing across her face. She quickly smothered the expression, however, moving back to business. “So, if I’m interpreting things correctly, you’ve given a calling card to Okumura Kunikazu?”

Ren nodded. “That’s right. I'm sorry.” He winced, glancing at Haru. “We thought there was a good chance he’d murdered the both of you, so…”

“That’s okay.” Haru shook her head, giving him a tired but sincere smile. Her expression quickly grew more sombre, however. “But that means we’ve only got a limited amount of time to steal his Treasure, correct?”

The clearing grew quiet – at least as quiet as it could be, considering the throbbing, heartbeat-like pulse running through the air. Morgana’s guts churned – he knew just as well as everyone else did that Haru was in no state to battle a Palace Ruler. Sympathy tugged at him – she’d been fighting for her agency all this time, only for it to be tugged away from her at the last moment, again.

It was then though that the heiress laughed. “There’s no need to look so grim – I don’t need to perform the coup de grâce to know that my actions played a vital role in his downfall.”

Morgana puffed up as a wave of realisation ran through him. “That’s right – Haru was the one to find his Treasure!”

Her eyes twinkled. "Not to mention, if I'd decided to leave instead of trying to change his heart myself, none of us would be here today."

A flicker of surprise crossed Ren’s face, and pride welled up in the not-cat’s belly. “You know where the Treasure is?”

Morgana couldn't help but grin smugly. “Yep – we were just on our way back when you lot interrupted us!”

Brows furrowed in concentration; a million calculations ran behind the leader’s eyes. Eventually, though, Ren straightened his spine. “Alright. Everyone, I’ll guide Niijima-san and Haru back to the entrance – my abilities are diverse enough to counter any foes we'll face, and it’ll mean you’ll have a full squad when facing down Okumura.”

Murmurs of surprise passed through the team – while others had taken the backseat before, Joker had been there for every fight. Still, Morgana realised his decision made sense. Given Sae and Haru were both at the end of their rope, they could only contribute so much to a fight – they'd never make it back to the Palace's entrance alone. If Ren went with them, however, the Phantom Thieves would only need to spare one man, instead of three to four.

Makoto looked conflicted, but eventually swallowed and gave Ren a tentative smile. “Alright. Just… stay safe, okay? Both of you. Uh, and you too, Haru-san!”

“Just Haru is fine.” The brunette smiled affectionately at the slightly awkward student council president.

“Don’t worry – we’ll be okay. Mona.” Ren suddenly stated, before reaching into his pocket and handing a hefty number of supplies to the not-cat. “While I’m gone, you’re in charge.”

“M-me?!” Reeling backwards in shock, the not-cat’s eyes bulged out of his head. “R-really? But why? I… I…”

I abandoned the team. Why would you trust me enough to lead in your stead?

“Uh, duh?” Ryuji blinked, scratching the back of his head. “You’ve been doing this the longest out of all of us – of course you’d be in charge if Joker wasn’t here.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Ann beamed, her beaming grin so dazzling Morgana felt slightly weak in the knees. “You’re the one who taught us everything we know, after all!”

“E-everyone…” Morgana looked down, a fuzzy warmth filling his chest. They… they believed in him, even if he wasn’t the strongest or the fastest or even a human. The warmth quickly ignited into a burning passion – he wasn’t going to let them down! “Alright, here’s the plan! Haru, Sae and I have already cleared a path, but we’ve still got a fair way to go…”

Chapter Text

Niijima Sae and Okumura Haru were found late Monday evening, just shy of a week since their initial disappearance. Both women staggered into a police station not too far from the business district – Niijima missing her shoes, for some reason – and informed the first officer they could find that they’d both just escaped a kidnapper. Initially, the claim was greeted with scepticism, but then someone recognised Okumura, and all hell broke loose.  

(Nobody saw a teenager with shaggy hair and glasses that obscured his eyes slipping away from the station.)

Medical examination revealed the victims both showed signs of dehydration and starvation, along with numerous minor injuries. The sole exception was a nasty but partially healed burn on Niijima’s torso and back, the origins of which would forever remain a mystery. The important thing was that neither woman required hospitalisation, and could therefore be interviewed immediately. Unfortunately for the officers questioning them, any details about their attackers were threadbare at best.

“I was walking to my father’s office – I’d hoped to bring him some dinner – when someone ambushed me from behind!” Okumura exclaimed. “Sae-san tried rescuing me, but she got hurt instead, and they took her too.” Something distant entered the teenager’s eyes. “… I think they didn’t want to leave any witnesses behind, but they didn’t want to kill anyone, either.”

(It was a lie, not that anyone realised it at the time.)

Down the hall, Niijima’s interview wasn’t faring much better.

“I was scoping out the area for an investigation – don’t ask which one, it’s well above your paygrade – when I saw Haru-chan under attack.” Niijima sighed, looking away. “I tried to intervene, but… they must have gotten a lucky blow on me. When I came too, I was blindfolded and bound somewhere dark.”

(That time, the interviewers did realise she was lying – there were no rope burns or other signs of restraint on either woman. The lie, however, was attributed to disorientation and shock. After all, what motivation would Niijima have to mislead them?)

“Did you see your attackers?”

“They were male, dark clothes, average builds and heights. Sorry. I know that’s not particularly helpful.”

(Niijima was right – it was absolutely useless.)

By the time both interrogations came to an end, everyone decided to write the situation off as a wash. Sure, there wasn’t a single lead on who kidnapped the women, but they were both alive and reasonably healthy. Plus, the attackers had gotten cold feet and released them both in the end, so they probably weren’t very competent kidnappers, anyway. More importantly, with Okumura resurfacing the station’s superiors would finally get off their backs, and that was what really mattered here.

…..

Goro watched his TV impassively as the camera finally cut to Okumura Kunikazu. A week had passed since his and the Phantom Thieves' temporary truce, and it seemed the latter was finally going to see the fruits of their labour.

“Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to gather here.” Kunikazu announced, rising to his feet. Despite the Phantom Thieves shredding his mind to pieces, he was perfectly composed – perhaps in another life he would have made a good politician. “Today, I’d like to elaborate upon the whole truth behind my company’s labour situation…”

The CEO started droning on and on about Okumura Foods’ poor working conditions, and the lengths he and his upper management went to cover everything up. Goro sneered – for all the effort they put into hiding their foul deeds, they’d certainly done a bad job at it. Of course, before Okumura could say anything truly incriminating, several security guards quickly hurried the protesting CEO off stage, and the camera switched to a technical difficulties screen. Good – it seemed the detective’s plan to replace the TV station’s staff with Shido’s lackeys had paid off. Goro didn’t even know that his muscles had been tensed up before they suddenly relaxed.

Thankfully, Shido had been in one of his rare mercurial moods when the detective delivered him the bad news – instead of the usual delay after sending their calling card, the Phantom Thieves had raided Okumura’s Palace with no pre-warning due to a strange cognitive quirk in its design, striking before Goro could intervene. It was a pack of lies, of course, but that was nothing new – he told Shido what he wanted to hear instead of the truth all the time. While the politician had been slightly malcontent, Goro’s promise that they could use this to their advantage managed to placate him. With Sae’s Palace disappearing, they needed some breathing space to find an alternative trap anyway, and the closer the Phantom Thief scandal erupted to the elections, the better.

Still, Goro was very aware he’d been walking on a tightrope – if Okumura let anything slip before he was intercepted there’d have been hell to pay. With him off-camera though, Goro (and by proxy, his revenge) was safe. The SIU was under strict instructions to keep Okumura under lock and key - no visitors (or recently-awakened prosecutors) allowed.

Humming the Featherman theme song to himself, he switched off the TV, before opening his attaché case and checking his gun. Now that Goro knew the Okumura situation was under control, it was time to do some hunting.

…..

When Sae woke up and was greeted by sunlight streaming into her bedroom, the prosecutor felt a wave of disorientation. It had been years since that had last happened. Shouldn’t she be at work right now…? It was then though that her mind finally caught up to her body, and her memories flooded back to her. That’s right. I resigned several days ago. Her combined medical and personal leave had netted her a week off before she needed to return to the SIU offices for a final handover of her cases.

She’d felt so nervous writing her resignation letter she’d almost been sick, but oddly enough, when she handed it over to the Director she felt nothing but calm. He’d questioned her decision a bit, probing whether she was truly certain this was the path she wanted to take, but Sae didn’t even feel a flicker of doubt as she reaffirmed her choice. When she walked out of the office that day a weight she didn’t even know was crushing her was lifted from her shoulders, and as she marched to the train station, there was a bounce to her step – she could barely remember the last time she felt so free.

(Her job – the prestigious Special Investigations Unit, straight out of university – had been one of her greatest points of pride. Sae had no idea when it had simultaneously started to make her feel so miserable.)

Back to the present day, she stretched the stiffness from her muscles, before throwing on a dressing gown and shambling into the kitchen. Makoto was already up and far more awake than the ex-prosecutor, in an unusual reversal of their normal roles.

“Oh, sis!” The brunette perked up the second she saw her, staring at Sae with so much warmth the silver-haired woman was forced to look away. “I’ve steamed some fish and made some miso soup – would you like some?”

A flicker of guilt ran through her – Sae didn’t deserve Makoto, not really. Still, she knew that line of thought wasn’t helpful. Her sister seemed determined to forgive her for how absent and irritable she’d been that year, and Sae had a hunch her presence would be far more appreciated than any grovelling apologies.

So instead, she sat down at the table and smiled. “That would be wonderful. Thank you, Makoto.”

Judging by the way the rosy tint on Makoto’s cheeks grew, it was the right thing to say.  

The siblings’ chattered idly as Makoto served their meal, and Sae prepared them both some coffee. Instead of talking about work or grades - clipped conversations focused purely on practicalities - they focused on other things. The weather, any interesting school projects Makoto was working on, and Sae’s plans for the day (for once, there weren’t any).

“Ah – while we’re on the topic, I might be back a little bit late this evening.” A blush crossed Makoto’s face, far richer than the one that had been there before. “I’ve promised to help Ren with his studies.”

Sae arched a brow. Ah. So that’s what her little sister hadn’t been telling her when she recounted the last few months of her life. Logically, Sae was aware the brunette was at the age where childhood crushes turned into something more serious, even if the thought of her baby sister dating made her feel ancient. While she was sure Amamiya was a perfectly respectable young man – he had a strong sense of justice and could make a mean coffee, at the very least – she’d need to have a talk with them both at some point. Leader of the Phantom Thieves or not, if he got her sister pregnant, she’d gut him.

For now, though, Sae was content letting Makoto have her secrets. “No worries. I’ll cook dinner tonight.”

A slightly troubled expression crossed the young woman’s face. “… Well, I suppose if you don’t have work to distract you, it’ll probably be edible…”

“Hey!” Sae squawked, miso soup forgotten. “I've only set the kitchen on fire once!”

“Which is still one more time than most people.” Makoto sighed, before glancing at the clock. “I better go – I’ll see you later, sis!”

As Makoto hurried off, grabbing her satchel and heading out of the door, Sae couldn’t help but chuckle. It had been far too long since they’d had a silly argument over something so utterly mundane. While she wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, when Sae thought about it, she realised Makoto had a point – culinary arts had never been her strong suit. Maybe she should just get them takeaway instead…

Musing about her evening couldn’t keep her occupied for that long, however, and a wave of surrealness settled over Sae as she realised she had no urgent tasks that needed to be completed, no deadlines looming down on her. That wasn’t to say she had nothing to do – while the former prosecutor had a consulting session booked with Haru later that week, she was acutely aware of the fact that she was now technically unemployed. Morgana had mentioned that her newfound Persona would grant her clarity, and perhaps that was true, but that didn’t mean it had completely cured Sae's financial anxiety.

Still… perhaps jobhunting could wait, if only for a day. Returning to her room, Sae walked over to her bookshelf and trailed her fingers down her collection’s worn spines. Most of them were old law textbooks, but that wasn’t what she was here for today. Instead, she pulled out a fantasy novel she hadn’t touched in years, and ignoring the dust that tickled her nose, Sae retreated to the couch and made herself comfortable.

…..

Haru resisted the urge to make herself look smaller as she travelled up the elevator towards Okumura Foods’ boardroom. Instead, she held her head high – as frightening as taking over the reins of her life (and her company) was, she had made a promise to no longer be a subservient puppet who bowed down to others’ whims. She belonged here, and if her father’s former staff took objection to that… well, that was their problem.

Feeling much more self-assured, the brunette examined the elevator's interior dispassionately. Her eyes traced over the steel and wood surrounding her. Perhaps the blue light framing the buttons matched the lifts in her father's Palace, but otherwise, she could see no traces of the spaceport. Ultimately, Haru came to the conclusion Kunikazu’s world was nothing but a reflection of his warped psyche. Her father had become so detached from reality, Haru almost found it in herself to forgive him. Emphasis on almost, of course.

The only contact they’d had since his arrest was a letter from him annulling her marriage contract to Sugimura. She thought she’d appreciate it more than she did, but as her eyes skimmed over the message again and again, they’d filled up with tears. He should have known better – he never should have sold her to him in the first place. Shaking her head, Haru snapped herself out of her thoughts as the elevator dinged, signalling that she'd finally arrived at her destination. It wasn’t like her father was going anywhere, after all – she would have years to come to terms with the storm of emotions that whirled within her whenever she thought of him. Right now, it was time for the heiress to look into the future.

Walking into the boardroom, she scanned her eyes over the neatly dressed men surrounding a long table that devoured most of the room's floor space. Some of the faces were familiar to Haru – Takakura, Akamatsu, Ito. Many, however, were not - Kunikazu’s confession had implicated some of his closest allies, and the police’s investigation had further gutted the senior staff’s ranks.

The chatter in the room died as the heiress took her place at the head of the table, sinking into what was once her father’s chair. Takakura – the acting president – gave her a polite nod, expression unreadable. A myriad of emotions shone in the rest of the businessmen’s eyes as they watched their new majority stakeholder, however – some were calculating, others were pitying, and the occasional pair were narrowed in anger.

Haru ignored them and cleared her throat. “Hello, everyone. We are all gathered here today to discuss the future of Okumura Foods. I will not pretend that I am capable of stepping into my father’s shoes just yet, however, I have no intention of turning a blind eye to the running of my family’s company either. I refuse to let my father’s actions sully our good name forever.”

One of the attendees cleared his throat, a weaselly gentleman Haru didn’t recognise. “Your marriage to Sugimura -”

The heiress gave him a pointed smile, and she could tell by the way the man paled that he’d taken it for the warning sign it was. “Is irrelevant. The contract was created to fuel my father's personal ambitions, not serve the company's future. Focusing on my education would be a far better use of my time and resources."

“Well put, Okumura-chan.” Takakura gave her a level nod. “Is there anything in particular you'd like to discuss before we start? You mentioned something about reparations when we organised this meeting?”

She nodded, careful not to let her nerves show. “The only way we can restore our company’s image is by atoning for our misdeeds.” Something twisted in her stomach, and Haru shook her head. “No – this isn’t just about earning back the public’s trust. We must do this because it is right. I want all workers compensated for any overtime performed over the last several years, along with financial assistance arranged for those injured in our factories.”

Panicked murmurs filled the room, but Haru refused to bow under their weight – while unfortunately, she knew she would need to compromise in some areas, this was not one of them.

Ito swallowed, staring at Haru with naked shock. “B-but, the financial strain that would cause us in this precarious time –”

“Is also irrelevant.” Her expression sharpened as she attempted to channel as much of Sae as she could. “Look around this room – none of us are struggling to feed our families. None of us are in any threat of losing our homes, or being unable to pay any emergency medical debts. Perhaps it will require sacrifice on our behalves, but while missing out on a luxury cruise or a new sports car might be upsetting, it will not harm us in the long term.”

“We’ll see what we can do.” Takakura scribbled something down on a piece of paper. “Our corporate lawyers have already been looking into the topic – would you like to be copied in on any communications?”

Haru nodded, mollified for now. “Yes, please. I'd like to review them with my own personal lawyers.” Sure, she didn’t technically have any yet, but Sae was going to help her get that situation sorted sooner rather than later.

As the meeting continued, Haru found that she didn’t have much more to contribute. Quite frankly, most of the talk about finances, marketing, and corporate contracts went well over her head. It was clear she had a lot of learning to do before she would truly be able to change Okumura Foods’ trajectory.

Still, today was a good start – from now on, her family’s legacy would not be one of greed and betrayal, but of growth.

…..

Ren yawned as the Phantom Thieves dispersed from Leblanc’s attic - they'd been there all evening planning their next heist. Okumura’s change of heart had caused their fans to go nuts - even Ryuji, who probably enjoyed the attention the most, was unnerved. Still, while they’d satisfied the Phanbase for now (sometimes, Ren wanted to punch Mishima for that ridiculous name), they hadn’t gotten the answers they needed. They knew Okumura had his fingers in the mental shutdown pie for sure, but Haru’s report had made it clear he wasn’t the one pulling Akechi’s strings.

Suffice to say, most of Sae’s prior reservations about the Phantom Thieves had vanished when they dropped that bombshell on her. In fact, it had led them straight to their next target – the SIU Director himself. After all, there was no way in hell he didn’t know about Akechi’s little side gig – if he wasn't the ultimate mastermind himself, he'd certainly know who was.

Opening his eyes again, he was about to turn back to his desk and start sorting their gear, when Ren caught a pink blur in the corner of his eye. Hmm. It looked like he wasn’t quite so alone, after all.

“What’s up, Haru-senpai?” The frizzy-haired teen smiled softly, hoping he looked inviting.

While he knew Haru was no delicate wallflower – she’d survived being trapped in a Palace for a whole week, after all – her disposition was so gentle he felt compelled to treat her that way in turn. Plus, now that Ren thought about it, this was probably the first time they’d ever interacted one-on-one. Might as well make a good impression, right?

The brunette hemmed and hawed, not quite meeting his eyes. “My apologies if I’m imposing, but… I was hoping to ask a favour of you.”

Ren’s grin broadened. He was more than familiar with this old song and dance by now. “No worries – why don’t you tell me more?”

Some of the tension left her shoulders as he settled back down in his seat, and Haru followed suit. “I’ve always known that I was wealthier than most, but I’ve only lately realised just how vast that gap truly is. How on earth am I meant to understand my workers’ needs if I don’t understand their lives?” A blush crossed her cheeks. “That’s why I sought you out – I was wondering if you could show me what it’s like, well, living like an ordinary person?”

Ren held out his hand with a laugh. “Honestly, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be there, but sure. It’s a deal.”

Haru shook it in return, giggling, and Ren could hear the sound of shattering chains as a voice whispered Empress into the back of his mind.

…..

Ren didn't find out what shape his relationship with Niijima Sae would take until the infiltration was well underway. The Director's Theatre was a gaudy place - fancy shows were put on for the blindfolded public to hide the blatant violations committed behind the stage. The cognitions were either mannequins posed how exactly the Director pleased (a title that took on a very different meaning here), or marionette puppets held up by invisible strings - Sae had a very interesting reaction at that, especially when they fought a brown-haired puppet that heavily resembled a certain teenaged detective. He wasn't particularly surprised that it eventually started to get to the former prosecutor's head.

Just like his fledgling bond with Haru, it started in Leblanc. They'd skipped going into the Palace today - instead, Ren wanted to stock up on supplies and get Shinya to teach him some more gun tricks. God knows he'd need them if he ever needed to fight Akechi. When he returned to the cafe that evening, the shaggy-haired teen was rather surprised to see a familiar face sitting at one of the booths. Sae was focused on her laptop, a half-eaten plate of curry at her side, while Sojiro gave her the stink-eye from across the counter. She'd apologised for threatening him earlier that year, but as Ren knew from experience, the barista tended to take a while to warm up to people. Still, he knew Sojiro would get over it eventually.

"Mind taking over, will you?" The barista grunted. "I need to get Futaba's dinner ready. God knows she needs to eat something other than curry and noodles."

"No worries." Ren saluted. It wasn't like it was busy - in fact, Sae was the only customer.

As the teen started the dishes, he glanced over towards his girlfriend's sister. Now that he got a good look at her, he frowned - there were poorly concealed dark smudges under her eyes, and he didn't like the way her brow was furrowed one bit. Eventually, Sae hit her limit, and groaning, she cradled her head in her hands.

Ren cleared his throat. "Sae-san, are you okay?"

"A-Amamiya-kun!" She half-jumped out of her skin, whirling around to face him. "When did you get here?"

"Just Ren is fine." He shrugged. "And to answer your question, not long ago." The teen frowned, taking in her haggard appearance. "What's wrong?"

The silver-haired woman looked away. "... It doesn't matter, not really. I don't want to burden you with my troubles, especially considering everything you have on your plate right now."

Shrugging, he slipped out from behind the counter and walked to her side. "It's no sweat off my shoulders. Besides..." Ren decided appealing to her sense of duty might make her more inclined to talk. "You're part of the team now. I need you at your best."

Sae rubbed her chin, mulling things over, but eventually, she gave in. "I'm working on my job hunt... it's not going particularly well."

He arched both his brows. "Really? But... you're an ex-SIU prosecutor. Who wouldn't want to hire you?"

"That's not the problem. I've already got a couple of offers, but..." She shook her head, before growing quiet. "You've seen the Director's Palace - the corruption, the lies, the brutality... as much as I'd like to pretend otherwise, it's not unique to the SIU. Every inch of the justice system is controlled by men who approve of everything he's doing - it's how the Director's held on to power for so long. Tell me... how can I justifiably uphold a system like that?"

Ren sat across from her, steepling his fingers. "... I don't think you can, not really."

This time, when the chains that bound him broke to pieces, the voice whispered Aeon.

.....

As Hasegawa Zenkichi strode into the interim SIU Director’s office, he swallowed, adjusting his tie in the hope that it would distract him from the apprehension welling inside him. While he was initially scheduled to return to Kyoto once Niijima had been found, paperwork and a myriad of other tasks had kept the inspector stuck in Tokyo until late October. The second he thought he was free, however, it had happened – the previous SIU Director suffered a mental shutdown on live TV, courtesy of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts. Zenkichi had felt like a piece of shit when he called Akane that night, telling her he’d be away just a little bit longer (she’d hung up on him before he even finished giving his excuses). Unfortunately, it was just like Commissioner Kaburagi said – duty calls, even if it’s inconvenient.

(He knew it was cowardly of him, but the police department’s sudden uproar had come as a relief – anything was better than sitting in that stifling house alone with a daughter who justifiably hated him and an empty bed that hammered home the fact that he’d never see his wife again.)

“You asked to see me, sir?” Zenkichi cleared his throat, brushing his thoughts to the side.

The acting Director – an average middle-aged man in both appearance and height – gave him a warm smile that failed to soothe any of his nerves. “Yes, yes. While I know it’s slightly unorthodox, the SIU has been keeping an eye on your work these last few months, and I must say that I’m impressed.”

Zenkichi’s brows rose to the roof. Was this a promotion? His eyes then narrowed so minutely the interim Director wouldn't have noticed it if even he tried. He didn’t need twenty years of experience in the force to tell something smelt fishy. If Zenkichi was finally being elevated into a proper position of command, Kaburagi would have told him in advance.

(Besides, he wasn’t sure if he’d want to accept something in Tokyo anyway. Too many memories here, most of them bad. Or to be more accurate, tainted with grief.)

Thankfully, he got his answers sooner rather than later. The interim Director drummed his fingers against his mahogany desk, expression smug. “With this latest strike against our department - the murder of my very own predecessor - we cannot allow the Phantom Thieves to run amok any longer. A special task force designed to annihilate them once and for all has been assembled, and I would like to offer you the honour of leading it.”

Stunned silent, Zenkichi couldn’t do anything other than stare at the other man in incredulous shock. As the proxy Director rambled on, explaining the magnitude of the operation, the inspector’s mouth grew drier and drier. This… this was huge. Sure, he’d worked on operations of similar sizes, but never in such a high position of command.

“W-why me?” He croaked when he finally found his voice again. “Sure, I’m familiar with the Phantom Thieves case, but I haven’t personally worked on it. Wouldn’t someone who's more on top of things be a better choice?”

Sighing, the interim Director glanced out the window, expression unreadable. “Unfortunately, the primary investigators for the Phantom Thieves case were Niijima Sae and Akechi Goro. Niijima handed in her resignation last month after her abduction, and Akechi-kun… he has talent, but he’s still a child. Meanwhile, you have experience working with task forces of this scale, and quite frankly, your track record speaks for itself.”

Biting his lip, Zenkichi’s mind raced. If he pulled this off, the rewards would be incredible. A promotion to chief inspector, at the very least. Fuck, maybe he’d even be able to make superintendent. Boring, yes, but he’d finally have enough clout to start making some much-needed changes to the force. Plus, the stability would be nice – with less travel, he might actually be able to begin working on his and Akane’s fractured relationship.

At the same time… the cost of failure would be astronomical. Still, what choice did Zenkichi have, really? He was painfully aware by now that if he ever wanted to get enough power to avenge his wife’s death, it would require making compromises.

“I’ll do it, sir.” He replied, and tried to ignore the sensation of a phantom collar around his neck tightening.

Chapter Text

Akechi Goro walked into Leblanc, idly wondering why Amamiya had summoned him. Progress into Hasegawa’s Palace was going well – in a surprising act of self-awareness, the man viewed the police station as a kennel. They hadn’t reached the Treasure yet, but it would only be a matter of days. He paused mid-way through reaching out to the door handle - what if Amamiya was on to him? The detective quickly dismissed those thoughts, however. No – if the other teen was aware of his treachery, he surely would have tried to finish Goro off for good during their duel in Mementos.

Walking into the café, a gentle smile that wasn't quite as fake as he wanted to pretend it was crossed Goro's face as he saw his rival. The detective stiffened, however, when he realised Amamiya wasn’t alone – Sakura was typing something out on her laptop at the bar, and sitting next to him was the inferior Niijima. His good mood died immediately.

Lips twitching, he sat down across from the couple. “Has something happened in regards to our infiltration?"

“Oh, this isn't about the Palace.” Niijima shook her head. “I just wanted your help with something – don’t worry, it’s nothing serious."

Oddly enough, Amamiya flashed him a despairing look. “I promise you, this wasn’t my idea.”

Suffice to say, that didn’t reassure Goro at all.

“It’s about Sae.” The brunette explained. “Given how stressed she's been feeling about our infiltration, I thought..."

“They’re here to find her a hot date!” Sakura interrupted, eyes glittering in delight.

Groaning, Niijima cradled her head in her hands. “… Well, yes, I suppose that’s the gist of it.”

Oh, my fucking god. Goro’s involuntarily mouth contorted into the world’s ugliest grimace. Had he just died and gone to hell? No – even the devil wouldn’t be this cruel. Distantly, he wondered if it would be breaking character if he just got up and left. Probably. Ugh.

“… And why exactly is my presence needed for that?” He choked out eventually.

“You’re her only friend.” Niijima stated bluntly.

… Oh. Goro shuffled awkwardly, entirely unsure of how he felt about that revelation. “I… alright, fine.” He narrowed his eyes at Amamiya. “So, why are you here? Moral support?”

“No. I’m the only person here who knows any adult woman.” The frizzy-haired teen deadpanned.

Tragic, but fair. The detective exhaled, still somewhat incredulous that he'd actually been talked into doing this. “Fine. So, what do we have to work with?”

“Option one: Ohya Ichiko, journalist.” Amamiya adjusted his glasses. “She’s smart, cunning, driven, and willing to take on insurmountable odds in pursuit of the truth. You’ve met her actually, Makoto – we ran into her in Crossroads.”

Niijima wrinkled her nose. “Oh. Is she always so…?”

“Drunk?” Amamiya winced. “Well, she’s getting a bit better…”

The brunette cradled her head in her hands, an act that caused Goro no small amount of glee. “Next option, please.”

“Kawakami Sadayo – my homeroom teacher.” The frizzy-haired teen continued. “She’s a passionate, hard worker, who’s willing to go the extra mile for her students. She also has a bit of a maternal streak, which might contrast well with Sae-san. Kawakami will make sure she’s eating well and not living in squalor, at the very least.”

Niijima nodded, expression thoughtful. Goro, meanwhile, was waiting for the catch.

“Oh, yeah – she’ll also dress as a maid if Sae-san’s into that sort of thing.”

Okay, what the fuck?

“Ren.” The student council president’s voice was strained. “Why exactly do you know that?”

In the distance, Sakura chuckled. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

“Look, I swear it’s nothing weird.” Amamiya raised his hands placatingly.  

Goro pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sakura is right. I don’t want to know. Anyway, let’s move on – Sae-san finds subservience unattractive.”

“Right. Uh… option number three is Takemi Tae. She’s the local doctor.” His rival winced. “She’s very droll - acts aloof but is a big softie inside. Just like Sae-san, she’s wickedly intelligent and knows what it’s like to get screwed over by asshole male bosses.”

“… And?” Niijima ventured, finally having cottoned on to the fact Amamiya knowing women was a very different thing to him knowing datable ones.

The teen rubbed his chin. “Uh, she likes wearing studded chokers, strappy black heels and a lot of leather everywhere she goes. Including work.”

Immediately images of a spiked collar, a tasteless fishnet dress and enough makeup to rival every member of a metal band combined flashed into Goro’s mind. “Oh, she sounds perfect. Definitely Sae-san’s type.”

At that, a half-confused, half-perplexed expression crossed Niijima’s face. “Really?”

Sakura nodded sagely. “He’s right, you know.”

Slowly, Goro processed her words, eyes gradually growing narrower. “Hold on a minute… how do you know that?”

The hacker cackled maniacally. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

…..

Goro collapsed to the engine room's dirty metal floor, blood and sweat intermingling as they dripped down his forehead. At that moment, he would have done anything to be back in those days when his plan hadn't fallen to pieces and his pride was intact. Rage and impotence bubbled in the detective's stomach in equal measures - the Phantom Thieves’ pitying gazes burning into his bowed back only made him feel worse. Despite everything, he was still just Akechi Goro, poor pathetic little orphan boy. At least Sae wasn’t here to witness his ultimate humiliation – she must have been at a job interview or something. Not that he’d know – Goro could count the number of times they’d talked to each other since his betrayal on one hand.

Despite his anger, however, Goro didn’t bother struggling back to his feet. What was the point? He wasn’t stupid, for all of his sins. He knew that he’d lost. A bitter taste rose to the back of his mouth as the detective felt his dreams crumble to dust. The Phantom Thieves would be the ones to take down Shido, and they would be lauded for it, while Goro would be left behind in the dirt with his reputation in ruin and his hands stained in blood. All the pain he'd felt, all the suffering he'd caused... it was all for nothing.

The thing about hitting rock bottom, though, is that the only way to go is up.

“It’d be a problem if you kept getting in our way. Wanna come along and help us settle things instead?” There was no hatred in Takamaki’s voice as she took a step towards him – there wasn’t even a hint of aggression.

Goro’s eyes widened. She couldn’t be fucking serious. As he looked around though, none of the Phantom Thieves objected to her statement. Even Sakura - who Goro had hurt the most - didn’t put up a fuss. While her mouth was set in a thin line, she met his gaze head-on. Still sceptical, the detective's eyes drifted towards Amamiya. His rival regarded him cooly, but there was a hint of a challenge in the black-haired boy's expression.

Well? Are you going to do something right for once in your life?

Unfortunately, the thing about hope is that it is all too easily dashed.

The herald of Goro’s destruction came not at the end of his rival’s knife, but from footsteps echoing across the steel floor. The teenager could do nothing but gawk in shock as a doppelganger of himself emerged from the darkness, flanked by half a dozen Shadows. His copy was dead-eyed and fanatical and crazed - truly crazed - in a way that made even Goro’s blood grow cold. As the cognition ranted and raved, the icy sensation crawling through his veins only increased. Shido had known who he was the whole goddamn time, and had always planned on getting rid of him before Goro ever had the opportunity of enacting his revenge.

It was then that the cognition fucked up. It offered him a deal - his life would be spared if he put the Phantom Thieves down for good. If Goro wasn't a masterful actor, his brows would have risen to the roof. Just how fucking stupid did Shido think he was? Perhaps slaughtering Amamiya and the others might buy him an extra day, but it would do nothing to remove the noose around his neck. As the teenager staggered to his feet, bloodstained and trembling, he knew exactly what to do. Pointing his gun at Amamiya, Goro soaked in his nemesis' shocked expression for one last time, before spinning on his heel and firing a direct shot into his cognitive double’s guts. As the puppet collapsed, he immediately fired another shot at the bulkhead door’s controls.

A voice screeched over the speaker, and sirens blared in tandem with flashing red lights as the Detective Prince turned his back on the Thieves, ready to make his last stand. Goro really should have learnt by now that all of his plans today were destined to go awry, however. Before the iron door could separate him from his former enemies for good, movement flashed at the corner of his eyes. The exhausted teen could do nothing but watch in horror as Amamiya and Niijima landed at his side a mere second before the bulkhead door slammed shut.

“Are you mad?! You should have just left me – you were meant to leave me! You’ll never win against these Shadows with me weighing you down!” He hissed, grabbing Amamiya by the lapels as the rest of the Phantom Thieves’ screams faded into the background. “What about your team?! What about Shido?!” Goro then shot a dirty look at Niijima. “What about Sae?!”

The lovers looked entirely unapologetic, however.

“I have faith in the Phantom Thieves.” Amamiya’s voice was perfectly even. “Once they catch their breath – and maybe get some backup – they’ll come charging in to save us, guns blazing. We don’t need to win this fight, just survive. Besides…” His rival looked Goro dead in the eyes. “I still have your glove.”

Goro’s jaw dropped upon, the revelation leaving him utterly speechless.

“Anat, mediarama.” Niiijima muttered. As the healing magic washed over Goro, lightening his limbs, the brunette winced. She clearly didn’t have many of those left in her. When she glanced at him though, her eyes burned not with pain, but conviction. “If you think I’m going to let you die here, you’re delusional. Nobody will be able to seek justice for your crimes if you’re dead.” Her expression then softened. “Also... I meant it when I said you’re probably Sae’s closest friend. No one who cares for my sister like that deserves such an awful fate.”

A wheezy laugh involuntarily escaped his throat. “You’re completely incomprehensible. You’re all incomprehensible.”

Niijima shrugged, completely unrepentant. “You don’t need to understand us, as long as you can fight by our side.”

“So, ready for one last dance, Crow?” Amamiya smirked, unsheathing his knife as Goro’s cognitive double struggled back to its knees.

The detective returned his rival’s grin. “I’m always ready, Joker!”

…..

Walking through the winding halls that made up the latter half of the Velvet Room's prison, relief flooded through Ren as he saw a mop of shaggy brown hair and long waves of silver in two adjacent cells. All he needed to do now was to find Morgana, and that would be all the Phantom Thieves accounted for. The sooner they reunited and kicked the Holy Grail's ass, the better. After a moment's debate, he decided to approach Sae first - she was slightly more predictable than his rival-turned-reluctant-ally. (Not that Goro wasn't still his rival, of course).

The oldest Phantom Thief was curled up in the far end of her cell, looking more despondent than he'd ever seen before. Her appearance was dishevelled - her hair draped over her face like a curtain, and Sae's skin was sallow, with dark rings painted under her eyes like smudged makeup. 

Sensing his approach, her crimson eyes flicked his way before returning to the ground. "... Ren-kun."

"Hey." He grinned, leaning against the bars. "Mind joining me out here?"

As expected, the attorney didn't move. "... What's the point? For the first time in my life, I tried standing up for myself and my justice, and look where it got me. I should have known better - if I'd just kept my head down, at least I'd be safe."

"What's the point in safety if it would damn you to a life of misery? If it would make you lose more and more of yourself until you didn't recognise the woman in the mirror in front of you anymore? If you died here, at least you'd have died as Niijima Sae. But you haven't - we're not out for the count yet." Ren offered her his hand. "Besides... wouldn't you rather go down fighting, instead of wasting away here?"

Finally, a fire ignited in Sae's eyes, and a flash of determination crossed her features. "... You're right." Blue flames raced down her figure, business suit replaced with dark armour. As her mask finally reformed, the attorney gave him an appreciative stare. "You have a way with words, you know. If you're so inclined, you could make a good lawyer one day."

He laughed. "Sorry, but I think Sojiro and Yoshida already have dibs on my future." Ren quickly sobered up. "The others are waiting in the centre of the Velvet Room - take a right, and go down the big corridor. You can't miss it."

Giving his farewells to Sae, he moved on to what he had a strange hunch was his final cell. Unlike Sae, who was clearly a mess, Goro was primly seated on the bench, not a hair out of place. If it wasn't for the sharpness of his eyes and his pointed frown, Ren would have thought he was seeing a resurgence of the Detective Prince façade. 

As his rival approached, Goro huffed. "... Here to mock me? Laugh at all my failures? I probably would be if I was in your shoes, but then again, the inner workings of your mind are an absolute enigma."

"Nope." Ren popped the p. "This is a prison break."

"Delusional as ever, I see." The former detective snorted, looking away. "Even if I leave this cage right now, what's the point? My vengeance failed - I was just a puppet dancing on my father's strings the whole time. I lost to your merry band of sycophants - I lost to you. My fame, my fortune, my reputation... the second Shido testifies, it'll all go up in smoke. It's just a matter of time. Face it, Ren - I have nothing waiting for me out there. Nothing. I'm ruined anyway. Why not just accept it?" He spat out the last sentence, voice drenched with bitterness.

Ren hesitated - he was well aware he was walking on a tightrope. Still, if Makoto was his rock, Goro was his mirror. The second the words left his mouth, he knew it was the right thing to say. "The point? Justice."

Goro's eyes widened. "... Pardon?"

"You're smart enough to know Shido's legacy won't end with his Change of Heart." He put his hands in his pockets. "The whole reason we came down to Mementos in the first place was because everyone wanted to ignore his crimes. Even once we've stolen the public's heart, there'll still be people out there wanting to protect him, if only to save their own skins. Sure, Zenkichi and his buddies will do their best, but they don't know Shido's crimes like the back of their hands. They don't know all the allies he's made and the lives he's bartered. Only one person does - you."

Brows furrowed, Goro rose to his feet as his Metaverse outfit returned. "... I see." He reflexed his wrist, clenching his gauntleted fist, and straightened up once he'd verified everything was in working order. "While it might not be the revenge I chose, Shido's downfall can still come at my words."

Ren gave him a curt nod. "Exactly. Now, come on - we've got a god to kill."

.....

Goro had known exactly what he was getting himself into when he turned himself over to Hasegawa that fateful Christmas Eve, but foresight didn't make solitary confinement any less boring. Maruki’s reality had been an unpleasant reprieve from the isolation, but once the councillor’s attempt at playing god was foiled, the former detective found himself surrounded yet again by four plain grey walls. It wasn’t all bad, though – at least Goro was helping put the final nails in Shido’s coffin. It turned out his testimony was invaluable.

When a guard knocked at the door, informing him someone was there to see him, Goro was unphased. Hasegawa had been pestering him whenever he got the chance, and with Commissioner Kaburagi now in charge of the precinct, he didn't need to worry about one of Shido's men stabbing him in the back. Settling down in the visitor’s chair, Goro waited patiently as his escorts politely moved back into the hall. He was so certain in his assumption that it was Hasegawa coming back with more questions, when the door opened and a tall woman with silver hair walked through instead, he gaped like an idiot.

“Sae-san?”

“Long time, no see.” She replied calmly as she took the seat opposite him.

If Goro had any less composure, he would have fidgeted uncomfortably. He and the former prosecutor hadn’t had a proper conversation since his betrayal. The teenager had spent most of December in a coma – Goro didn’t even get to see Shido’s confession live for crying out loud – and then the double whammy of Yaldabaoth and Maruki had happened. Suffice to say, having an awkward conversation hadn't been one of his priorities.

“Why are you here?” His eyes thinned into slits. “If you’re looking for tears of remorse or a snivelling apology, you might as well leave.”

Sae folded her arms, unphased. “No, not particularly. What I want is a recollection of your crimes. If I’m going to be defending you, I need all the help I can get.”

Goro’s brows rose to the roof. He’d heard from Makoto that she was planning to cross over to the other side of the bench, but he hadn’t realised it had already happened. But then again, he was pretty sure it was February by now, and Sae was more than qualified to work as a public defender.

“… Congratulations.” He offered, assessing her calmly. “I’m surprised you managed to get assigned to my case, however. How many strings did you need to pull?”

“A lot.” The woman sighed. “I also managed to make a convincing argument that you were more likely to comply with me due to our past history.”

“What history?” Goro sighed, diverting his gaze. “I’ll be frank, Sae-san – you were just a convenient tool for me to use.”

“Yes, and I was uptight and jealous of the accolades you got. Neither of us were exactly good friends to each other, Akechi-kun.” She drummed her fingers against the table. “Still, in the hell that was the SIU, the only thing we really had was each other. Don’t say that Shido’s lackeys count – you hate them all almost as much as you hate the bastard himself.”

Shrugging, he relaxed into his chair. She wasn’t wrong, after all. “… Very well. Where would you like me to start?”

"From the beginning." Sae bent down, withdrawing a pen and a clipboard from what Goro assumed was her satchel. "It's an unfortunate inevitability that you'll be spending some time in prison, but I'm hoping I'll be able to cut that down from a life sentence to several years. You're not a threat to the public anymore, and there are better ways to make reparations to those you hurt than rotting in a cubicle."

And so, for the first time ever, Akechi Goro had an honest conversation with Niijima Sae.