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Chapter Text

Akira had never been more tired, yet he found himself unable to sleep.

He's holed up in Leblanc's bathroom, sitting with his knees to his chest against the counter. The floor is cold and the wood digs into his shoulder, but he finds the discomfort of it all oddly grounding. Morgana is sleeping in their bed, blissfully unaware of his current emotional instability. Akira would like to keep it that way.

Akira would like to sleep, as well. Really, he would! He knows he needs it. His sleep schedule has been awful recently, he can't remember the last time he ate, and he aches. He can't remember the last time he's had a break from fighting, either. Akira was losing his mind. He didn't know what to do about it.

He has his friends by his side again, and yet…

All he can see is the control Maruki had over them. The control they gave him. Talking to them, he couldn't recognize the people he'd grown to love so much. Maruki was rewriting their personalities with a surface level understanding of who they were as people, and it showed. But they were so much happier too. In this reality, hand crafted to erase every negative experience they've had.

It was perfect. Exactly what they wished for. But was it?

(they rejected it. they rejected it.)

He feels sick when he thinks of accepting Maruki's reality. He can't stand the thought of his friends and family having their memories rewritten, being reduced to nothing more than sanitized shells of their former selves. Despite that, he can't help but feel like he's making a mistake again, jumping the gun with too little information, only making things worse.

One second Okumura is talking, the next he's choking. Black sludge spills from his eyes like tears, though it's Haru's choked cry of “Father?!” that ring in Akira's ears for nights to come. He finds himself staring at the ceiling for many nights afterward, wondering where things went wrong.

He doesn't know. The Phantom Thieves and their pursuit of justice was the only thing he believed in. He doesn't know what he believes now.

He tries to picture Sumire, her bloody face and crazed eyes, finally resolved to live as herself again, to achieve her dream in Kasumi's honor. It overlaps with her tired face, her trembling body, as she desperately pleads to continue living as Kasumi. 

He tries to picture the Thieves at his side, right when he needed them most, just like they always were. But it too overlaps, with Ann and Shiho's smiles, the real Sayuri in an art gallery, Makoto and Sae planning dinner with their father, Futaba with her mother and Haru with her father, Morgana finally human.

Ryuji, star of the track team. Ryuji, with no leg injury and a team that likes him. 

Ryuji, who doesn't remember how they met.

He knows this isn't real, and what staying here means giving up. He knows his friends have denounced this reality and all the nice things that come with it. He still can't help but feel selfish, like he's depriving them of the happy, care-free lives he knows they deserve for the one where he's part of their lives.

As Akira sits on the bathroom floor of Leblanc, he feels small in a way he hasn't since their palace escapades began. He feels like he's ten again, in a house too big and too empty, hoping his parents would be home when they said they would be this time. He feels lost.

Akira hasn't felt Arsène's presence since they left Maruki's palace. Ironic. Sumire gains access to her Persona's full potential, meanwhile Akira loses his. He'd laugh, if he had the energy. Really, all he wants is to sleep.

He leans further into the counter, eyelids getting heavy. Almost bitterly, he wonders what nightmares will wake him this time.

He should talk to his friends, they would help him. He can talk to Morgana tomorrow, that's a good start.

Akira feels something wrap around his ankle. Before he can think too hard about it, the world finally fades to black.

—

The tendrils he sent reappear from the hole in front of the obnoxiously long chair, holding the unconscious form of one Kurusu Akira. They set him down in it, gently, before disappearing into the hole. Maruki kneels in front of the teen, taking in his appearance with sad eyes. He looks so small, dressed in what's obviously his sleepwear. His hair is a sweaty mess, and his fake glasses are nowhere to be seen. 

It pained him to see Akira this way. While he hadn't fully awakened to Azathoth at the time, his other self had sent him warnings of the distortion hiding within the boy even then, in the vague ways he could, though he can't say he needed them. The briefing he'd gotten from the principal about Akira's situation, coupled with his first time actually meeting him, was more than enough for Maruki to see it himself. Over the course of their conversations, it became clear to him there was a lot Akira wasn't telling him, and not just Phantom Thief business. Akira was tight lipped about anything regarding his family, his hometown and any friends he might have there, even his hobbies.

Maruki wanted to help him. When the sky turned red, and Azathoth gave him the power to do just that, he thought it must be a sign. This power was given to him for a reason, it had to be. It was his responsibility to use it, to better the lives of everyone he can.

He didn't plan for Akira remembering the real reality. He didn't plan for Akechi either. Or for the two of them to team up against him, convincing Sumire and the rest of the Thieves to join them. Things have spiraled out of his control (again). And now, the reality he's worked so hard to create is on the line, and Akira's heart has been overwhelmed by distortion.

But it's fine. If it's his reality he wants, it's his reality he'll get. Maruki is nothing if not benevolent, after all.

“I will save you, Kurusu Akira.”

Chapter Text

While she tries to arrive early rather than late, Ann is rarely the first person at the hideout when the Phantom Thieves call a meeting. But she's proud to say she's never been last!

This time, however, Ann feels like she's going crazy. She's changed clothes 3 times, painted her nails twice, did her makeup only to wash it all off, and yet she couldn't sit down. She could eat something, but even the thought of food made her stomach churn. She needed to get out of here. Where she went didn't matter, as long as she wasn't within these four specific walls.

So, Ann found herself standing outside Leblanc a whole 30 minutes before anyone was expecting her. Staring at the sign on the door, she suddenly felt… self conscious. How would she explain why she was here? Did she even need to? 

Before she could think to turn and leave, the door cracked open with the sound of a bell.

“Ann?” Akira peeked at her through the crack in the door, the bags under his eyes made her sad. 

“Hey. I, uh…” She trailed off. She felt the need to explain herself, but she didn't really know how. “I needed to get out. Of my house.” Akira blinked at her, before nodding.

“Want a cup of coffee?” He asked. Ann smiled.

A few minutes later, Akira was walking around the counter, taking the seat next to her. The two drank their coffee in comfortable silence for a moment, before Ann broke it.

“... How have you been, Akira?” Ann asked. He's been on her mind for a while now. He always is, to be fair, him and Shiho. But so much has happened to them, Akira especially. It feels like they haven't had a moment to catch their breath in ages.

Akira's quiet for a minute, staring at his coffee with a gaze Ann couldn't put a name on. She didn't like the way it looked on his face. “... It'd be a pretty obvious lie if I said everything was fine.”

“Yeah,” Ann said. “It would be.” When Akira set his cup on the counter, she grabbed his free hand with her own, giving it a gentle squeeze. Akira looked at her like a deer in headlights for a moment, before giving a soft squeeze back.

“I've been having some trouble sleeping,” he admitted, looking at the floor in front of him instead of her. Akira rarely looked people in the eye while talking about himself. She didn't know why, but she felt hyper aware of it now. “If it keeps up, my sleep schedule might get worse than Futaba's.”

Ann snorts at the joke. “Is there anything I can do for you? Maybe Hecate can put you to sleep,” she joked. Akira gave her a small but sincere smile.

“If that were possible, I might consider it. But, honestly? You guys being here is enough,” Akira said softly, and Ann wanted to believe him, she really did. But there was something in his tone, in the look in his eyes, the way it felt like he was looking through her instead of at her. There was more here, she knew it.

“Akira—” she began, only to be interrupted by the sound of the door's bell. Ryuji blinked at the two of them.

“Am I, uh, interrupting something?” He asked, eyes moving between them, but Ann's were stuck on Akira. His expression changed when the bell chimed, she noticed. His face was more neutral now, harder to read, but Ann could still see that look in his eyes. It looked sickeningly familiar, but she didn't want to connect the dots.

“Nah, Ann and I were just chatting,” Akira replied, his tone casual. Ryuji caught her eyes, sending her a silent message. ‘What's up? You good?’

Ann gave him a strained smile. ‘We can talk later.’ She felt a small bubble of relief when gave a slight nod. She could always count on Ryuji to have her back. She hoped he knew he could count on her, too.

The three of them (soon joined by Morgana, who had been napping upstairs) sat at one of the booths together, talking and joking about anything and everything as the rest of the Thieves made their way to the café.

—

Thinking back to that day, two days ago, it was just two days ago, Ann wishes she had pushed more, even after Ryuji showed up. They could've double teamed him, Akira's whined plenty of times about how hard it was to tell them both no at once. But no. She stares at her phone, the words burning into her retinas.

Akira's missing. Meet at the hideout ASAP.

It's mocking her, she thinks. You could've done something. You could've been the friend, the partner, Akira deserves. But you failed. Again.

Her body goes through the motions, removing her pajamas and replacing them with clothes more suitable for the cold weather. She ties her shoes, staring ahead of her, but looking at nothing.

Her phone dings, and she's scared of what she might find when she reads it. She hesitates for a moment, before unlocking it. A text from Ryuji.

i'll b at ur house in like. 5mins. make sure ur door is unlocked, thx

She let out a small, shocked laugh, before stumbling out of her room. She unlocked the door before heading into the kitchen.

She poured two glasses of water, setting one on the counter and sipping from the other. Before she can get too lost in thought, she hears the sound of her front door opening and closing.

Ryuji finds her there, in her kitchen, sipping water with a blank stare.

“Didn't you read the text?” She asks, but there's no heat behind her words. “We're supposed to meet at the hideout. ASAP.”

“I needed to make sure you were okay,” Ryuji replied, grabbing the glass on the counter. He took a sip as he leaned on the counter next to her, letting his free hand grip her hoodie sleeve. Ann could feel his hand shake. I needed to make sure you were still here. He didn't say it, but he didn't need to for Ann to understand.

“... This sucks,” Ryuji said after a moment of silence. “Understatement of the century, I know, but…” he trailed off with a shrug. “It's hard not to think of the things we could've done.” Ann nodded.

“That I can definitely understand,” she mumbled, her grip on her glass tightening. “... Do you think we could've changed anything? If we tried harder?” Ryuji is quiet for a moment, lost in thought. Ann entertains her own while Ryuji pieces his train of thought together.

Ann doesn't know a lot about Akira's life before he came to Tokyo. He doesn't exactly offer the information willingly, for reasons Ann's speculated on plenty, but with no clear answer. At first, she thought that talking about it was simply distressing for him. She wouldn't blame him, if she was in his situation, she'd be a wreck. And that was part of it, but there was something more, something Ann wasn't privy to.

There was a gap between them, and Ann didn't know when it had grown so large, or how to begin crossing it, but she wanted to. She wanted to know Akira like he knew her, to lean on her when he needed to, to let her be strong when he couldn't. She knows she's told him if he ever needed anything, no matter where he was or what time or anything, to never hesitate reaching out to her. She should've known she'd need to push harder.

“It's hard to say,” Ryuji said, pulling Ann out of her head. “Like I said before, there's definitely things we could have done. The problem is whether or not Akira was in the headspace for those things to be helpful, and the only one who could tell us that is… missing.”

Ann felt angry, a similar anger to the one that consumed her at Kamoshida's palace. She wanted to find whoever was responsible for Akira's disappearance, show them exactly what she would've done to Kamoshida's shadow, had she not needed him to confess to his crimes.

But then, she sees Akira's face in her mind. His smile, his laugh, his cocky grins in the Metaverse. She sees those sad expressions. He looks at her and shakes his head.

She hears Hecate's voice in her head, intertwined with Akira's, drawing a sharp breath from her. You know what you need to do.

When she meets Ryuji's eyes again, she can tell something similar happened to him. His grip on her sleeve is tighter too, she noticed.

“You're right. There's no use thinking about it now, anyway. What's done is done, for better or worse,” Ann said, letting a bit of bitterness taint her tone. She sighed, then continued. “We have more important matters to deal with, and we've wasted enough time here.” Ryuji gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

“I wouldn't call it a waste. But yeah, let's get out of here.”

“... We're gonna be last to the hideout.”

“... At least Akira won't know?”

—

Ann can tell the moment they enter the café, no one has had a good morning today.

Morgana is in Futaba's lap. His tail twitches every so often, jerking from side to side, and his eyes are wet with unshed tears. Futaba is running her hand against his back with one hand, the other holding Sumire's under the booth table. Futaba's eyes are glued to the laptop in front of her, while Sumire stares at the bottom of her empty glass. Their misery seems to set the tone for the rest of the café.

Yusuke is sitting at the bar, holding a mug of coffee in both hands. He's staring at the Sayuri with a look in his eyes Ann can't find the words to describe, but it's another look she doesn't like seeing on a friend's face. Makoto is talking to Sojiro behind the bar, clearly trying to keep up some illusion of normalcy as she helps him with the dishes. Sojiro gives her a sad smile. Haru watches quietly from the bar, holding an untouched cup of coffee.

The most curious to Ann, is Akechi. She had a vague idea of the state she'd find the other Thieves in, if her own reaction was any indication, but she can't say she (or any of them, minus maybe Sumire) knows Akechi very well. When she tried to picture how Akechi might've reacted to the news on the train, she came up blank. Seeing him now, though, she thinks it should've been obvious.

He's sitting on the stairs up to the attic. His entire body is trembling with (very) poorly concealed rage. He's sitting with his knees to his chest, his hands clenched together and pressed against his mouth. And while he definitely looked angry, Ann could tell there was more to it than that. His eyes dart around the room like a cornered animal, his breathing erratic. When she looks a little closer, she notices a pair of lensless glasses in his chest pocket. Akira's.

He's angry and distressed in equal measure. Ann understands, feels that same distress simmering under her skin. Akechi is just wearing his, whether or not he realizes he is.

It was a little strange. Akechi was usually much harder to read.

Ann wondered, idly, whether or not Akira knew just how much he mattered to them. How obviously lost they were without him.

She felt a familiar hand gently grasp hers, pulling her from her thoughts. Ann was suddenly aware of the silence their presence had brought over the café. When did Makoto and Sojiro stop talking?

After a moment, Morgana hopped onto the table. “Akira wasn't here when I woke up. I found his phone in the bathroom, by the counter…” He trailed off, looking to Futaba. The girl pushed her glasses up her nose, letting go of Sumire's hand to set her laptop on the table. 

“This is security footage from the café last night. Obviously, there's no camera in the bathroom, but this one points at the door.” She waited a moment for everyone to gather around the table, then pressed a button on the keyboard. They watched as Akira came down the stairs, avoiding certain places or steps entirely, clearly trying to be as quiet as possible. He looked down at his phone for a moment, before entering the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“The door never opens after that,” Futaba said, turning her laptop back to face her. “Not until Mona woke up. He got Sojiro to open it for him.”

“How did he go missing if he never left the bathroom?” Ryuji asked, though Ann had a feeling she knew the answer. From the look in his eyes, she could tell he did too.

“How else,” Akechi muttered. His tone made a chill go up Ann's spine, but she could tell his anger was for someone else. “Our dear doctor has decided his services are necessary, regardless of anyone else's wishes. Isn't that right?” He directs the last question at Morgana, who nods.

“At the very least, that's my best guess,” Morgana said, a hint of frustration in his voice. “The Metaverse has a smell, to me at least. And the bathroom reeks of it. So unless Master is pulling an unfunny joke on us, which I find hard to believe, the only explanation is Maruki.”

The café is quiet for a moment as the Thieves take the information in. This time, however, it's Sumire who breaks the silence.

“Are we assuming Dr. Maruki intends to try what he did to me on Akira? Or that he has some other plan?” Morgana faltered at that, making Sumire's face fall.

“... All I can say with certainty is that Maruki is the most likely culprit. His phone has the same smell as Maruki's Palace,” Morgana explained with a grimace, pacing around the table. Futaba moves her laptop back to her lap, giving him more room. “As for what Maruki intends to do with him… The only person who could give us that answer is Maruki himself.”

“What about Lavenza?” Makoto asked. Ann noticed Makoto's hand gripping Haru's jacket, her knuckles white. “She must know something, right? We can talk to her, go into Maruki's Palace prepared. Or, at the very least, more prepared than we would be otherwise.” 

“If nothing else, it's a good place to start,” Morgana said, ending his pacing in the middle of the table. “We don't have Akira to cover our weaknesses, so if things go south we'll be at a serious disadvantage. But we haven't let that stop us before, we can't afford to now. Not when Akira needs us.” The group echoes the sentiment, and Morgana smiles. 

“Then what are we waiting for?” Ryuji asked. “There's nothing left for us to talk about here, so let's go where we can get some answers, yeah?” Morgana looked at everyone, then nodded.

“Futaba, let's get the supplies from Akira's room. After that, it's straight to the Velvet Room.”

—

If nothing else, humanity always finds ways to surprise him. Igor is usually a fan of this, enjoys expanding his understanding of what makes these beings, so similar yet different to himself, tick. This time, however, he feels irritated.

“Lavenza,” Igor called out. She was at his side in an instant, looking up at him expectantly. “You are needed elsewhere.” She looked toward the cell across from them, before looking back at him.

“Are you sure?” He put his hand on her head, patting it gently.

“I will watch over him. Go. You will not be long,” he assured her. She nodded.

“I will return, Master.” She disappeared with the sound of a chime, leaving Igor to his thoughts.

Should be any time now…

As if on cue, the sound of chains rattling filled the space, drawing Igor's gaze to the cell across from him. His irritation began to give way to satisfaction.

There we go.

Akira approached the bars of the cell. He grabbed one of the bars with one hand, the other pressing against his forehead. After a moment, he met Igor's gaze with a confused expression.

Want to meddle, Maruki Takuto?

“Igor? What's going on?” Akira asked.

“Welcome back to the Velvet Room,” Igor replied in greeting. Akira's grip on the bars tightened. “We have much to discuss.”

Two can play that game.

Chapter Text

While Yusuke was used to finding silence uncomfortable, he found silence with Akira to be the exact opposite, to his surprise.

Maybe it was something in his aura. The shack always felt awful, and its silence was appropriately suffocating. It was the kind that left you with your worst thoughts, and a sinking feeling that never truly fades, even when the moment passes. Here, with Akira's head on his shoulder, books in their laps, and a shared warmth between them, Yusuke has never felt more at peace. His skin tingles where Akira touches it, but it's far from unpleasant.

He wonders if Akira has this effect on everyone. He has to, surely.

That aside, it was something Yusuke had come to cherish. Silence was no longer something to be filled, it no longer made his heart race, or his mind wander where he didn't want it to. Peace and quiet had a whole new meaning when he finally had the peace.

“I feel like I owe you so much,” Yusuke murmured. Akira hummed, tilting his head to catch Yusuke's eyes, though his own were unintentionally obscured by the sun's reflection in the lense of his glasses.

“I don't remember giving you any money recently,” Akira teased, earning himself an eye roll and light shove. He giggled, leaning back into Yusuke. “Jokes aside, what for?”

“You've done so much for me, given me so much. I don't know if I could put it all into words, what it means to me. What you mean to me.” Akira stared at him for a moment, blinking slowly, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Before Yusuke could comment on it, Akira smiled. It was small, but far more genuine than the smiles Yusuke occasionally saw on his friends face.

“You have nothing to worry about, Yusuke. Anything you feel you owe me, you've already paid me back in spades, I promise you,” he replied, turning his gaze to the book in his lap. Yusuke followed his gaze, skimming the aged pages. A rabbit in a waistcoat with a pocket watch, and a girl following it down a rabbit hole.

“In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.”

Akira closed the book, giving Yusuke a chance to see the title. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. He'd seen the book on Akira's bedside table before, every time he could remember coming here. When Yusuke strained his memory, there were flashes of Akira glancing at it with a complicated expression. Yusuke was sure he had doodled it into his sketchbook somewhere, likely the one that held all his doodles of the Thieves.

(They would never find out about it if he had any say. There was an embarrassment there he hadn't quite gotten over yet. Maybe one day, but definitely not any time soon.)

“There's nothing I could give you that you haven't given me,” Akira said after a while, pulling Yusuke out of his thoughts. At some point while they were lost in thought, Akira had stopped leaning on Yusuke. He found himself mourning the loss. “Sometimes I feel like I'm the one that owes you.” Yusuke immediately shook his head. Every cell in his body rejected the sentiment. Goemon's displeasure covered him like a second skin, amplifying his own.

“Absolutely not. If I owe you nothing, you owe me nothing, and you never will,” Yusuke insisted. He needed Akira to understand, to believe him. 

When Akira finally looked at him, it was like he was looking through him. He smiled, somewhere confusingly between genuine and hollow.

“I guess we can call it even, then.”

—

It was not even. Not at all.

Yusuke tries to ignore Ann and Ryuji's concerned glances. He hasn't spoken much, not at the hideout, nor here, on the train. He doesn't have much to say, truthfully, and the emotions swirling in his chest are… volatile. Better to keep his mouth shut, lest he say something he'll regret. They don't deserve that, anyhow.

He's scrolling through old messages between himself and Akira. He's reread everything available twice now, but if he stops, he'll have to deal with their concern. Or worse, he'll have to see the way Maruki's reality fights against itself, like a snake eating its own tail. These people didn't have the honor of a one on one session with him, after all. How can he account for their needs if he doesn't know what they are?

The irony would be enough to make him laugh on a better day. Today, it just makes him sick.

By the time they've reached the station and began the walk to Maruki's palace, Yusuke hid his hands in his pockets to keep their trembling to himself. If anyone noticed and asked, he'd simply blame the cold. 

None of them had spoken much, since leaving the comfort of Leblanc, and the silence is uncomfortable. Silence with the Thieves isn't supposed to feel like this. It's not quite silence with Akira, but it's damn near close, and in this moment he misses it more than anything. He can feel it again, that itch, that need to fill the silence before it consumes his very being bubbles up in his chest. It leaves him slightly nauseous.

He felt a slight tug on his jacket's sleeve, enough to grab his attention, but not enough to pull his hand from its hiding spot. A glance to his side revealed Akechi, holding the sleeve of his jacket, but refusing to look him in the eye. A new feeling joined the mess in his chest, but he refused to give this one a name.

It will hurt too much, when this is over.

Yusuke wondered if Akechi was thinking the same.

While the trembling in his hands didn't fade entirely, it eased. Yusuke muttered a small 'thank you’. Akechi's only response was a nod.

As Maruki's palace came into view, Yusuke began to mentally brace himself for whatever awaited them beyond the threshold.

–

Lavenza was waiting for them, outside the elevator leading into the palace proper.

Since their almost-erasure from reality, the Thieves were more… aware of the Velvet Room's presence. Its entrance was still hidden to their eyes, but Yusuke could feel it, somehow, a lingering chill where he knew the door was located.

Akira still stood by the door with a blank expression while inside, but at least they didn't have to be concerned about it anymore.

Lavenza regarded them with a kind smile as they approached, but the concern in her eyes was evident. 

“I wish I could see you all under better circumstances,” Lavenza began, fiddling with the tome she carried. The action seemed to bring her comfort. “Unfortunately, better circumstances these are not. Akira is not just a victim of Maruki, but of his own mind.”

Yusuke had a sinking feeling he knew what she was implying. He doesn't like it, doesn't want to believe it. But Lavenza meets his eyes, and Yusuke can see his misery reflected back at him. He knows she wouldn't be telling them this if it wasn't the truth.

It doesn't make it easier to hear. He can see the sympathy in her eyes, like she's following his train of thought exactly. He wouldn't be surprised if she is.

“You're not implying what I think you are… are you?” Ann asked. Her tone told everyone she already knew the answer. Lavenza nodded.

“I’m afraid I am. Akira has developed a palace.” She opened the tome in her hands, flipping through pages before stopping on one. She ran her hand over the page with a sad expression. “Once a persona is registered to the Compendium, it cannot be unregistered, so to speak. Akira has access to any persona in the Compendium, with the proper payment. Arsène is still here, however… he's unreachable.”

“Is it a situation like Maruki?” Ryuji asked, hesitantly. To that, she shook her head.

“It's a bit more complicated than that,” Lavenza began. “Shadows and personas are two sides of the same coin. On their own, they are incomplete pictures, but together they can tell a beautiful story.” Her gaze meets Futaba's for a moment, before she continues. “Maruki awakened to his persona after the creation of his palace, which… complicates things, as I'm sure you've noticed. Akira's, however, has been on the verge of creation, but only formed recently.”

“So, if I understand correctly, Maruki awakening to his persona with his palace formed is why he has no shadow?” Ryuji replied, though he phrased it more like a question. “He's essentially taking his shadow's place.”

“Precisely!” Lavenza smiled brightly at Ryuji, something like pride twinkling in her eyes. “Akira's palace is more comparable to the ones you've completed before this, shadow and all.” 

“More comparable, you say,” Futaba muttered. “But there's still something about it you aren't telling us.”

Lavenza's expression told them she would have preferred that nobody mention that. Unfortunately for her, the Thieves were now looking at her expectantly. She hesitantly offered her answer.

“Akira's treasure. It will not be a physical object to collect, but I cannot say more than that now. But please, trust me when I say you will understand when the time is right.”

“Whatever his treasure is, we still need him to be aware we're trying to take it to manifest it, don't we? How will we manage that this time?” Makoto asked.

“Master and I will take care of that,” Lavenza assured them. “All you all need to worry about is getting through his palace. Once you find the treasure, we will ensure it's ready for the taking.”

“How do you intend to do that?” Haru asked.

“We have our ways,” was her very unhelpful reply. Yusuke wondered if there was a contract involved with being an attendant of the Velvet Room, and whether or not it included 'be vague on purpose’ as a requirement. “I must return to my Master's side. I suggest you talk to Maruki, before venturing into the palace.” Lavenza looked conflicted, like she had more to say but wasn't sure if she should.

“We'll bring him back, Lavenza,” Yusuke told her. She met his gaze with a wide eyed stare. Yusuke hoped his expression was as genuine as his tone. “I promise.”

She smiled. “I know you will. Be safe, Phantom Thieves, and be quick. Time is not on your side.”

–

The inside of Maruki's palace was truly beautiful, if you ignored the oppressive atmosphere; the architecture was an impressive sight to behold. In any other context, he'd wish for his sketchbook. In this one, he’d sooner wish for a box of matches.

As they entered, they were approached by one of the shadows draped in a white coat.

“Lord Maruki has been expecting you. He wishes to speak with you, if you will.”

The Thieves glanced at each other, then back to the shadow.

“Um. We will,” Makoto replied. The shadow nodded, turning on its heels.

“Please, follow me.”

They followed the shadow back to the room they fought Sumire's persona in a few days earlier. The girl did not seem happy to be back here so soon, but that seemed inconsequential when they saw him.

Yusuke felt his breath catch in his throat.

Akira sat in the same chair Sumire had just a few days prior, still in his sleep clothes and missing his glasses. He seemed to be sleeping, but he had no reaction to the various shouts of his name from members of the Thieves. Akira was a light sleeper, Yusuke knew. He would've woken up, under normal circumstances.

Yusuke desperately wished these were normal circumstances.

“Thank you for coming,” said a familiar voice. Maruki appeared next to Akira, like he'd always been there and they were too focused on Akira to notice. “I understand it must have been a shock, to wake and find him missing. For that, I'd like to extend my sincerest apologies.” He truly sounded sincere too. Somehow, that pissed Yusuke off more.

“You can stick those apologies up your ass,” Akechi hissed. Seems he wasn't the only one. “They're just words. Your actions speak far louder, and the stories they tell are sinister.” 

“I can make them more than words, if you let me.” Maruki turns his gaze to Akira for a moment, sad and sympathetic. Yusuke wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face. “I felt it, you know, when his Palace completed its formation. The distortion had been there for some time, it was everywhere. I hoped, at the time, there was something I could do to help. But now? Now, I can.”

Yusuke could only describe his voice as mad. It unsettled him deep to his core. Futaba, surprisingly, found her voice before anyone else.

“Akira doesn't want your help! He made that clear!” She was torn between sending glares to Maruki and concerned glances to Akira. Maruki frowned.

“Our conversations in private beg to differ.” Akechi opened his mouth to argue, but Maruki raised his hand. Akechi growled. “But I have an offer for you all, if you're willing to listen.”

“Unless that offer includes you giving Akira back to us, you can go fuck yourself,” Ryuji hissed, which earned him a sigh.

“The strength of Akira's distortions, his desires… It's better if he stays here. Let me help him, and you can return to our reality.” Maruki's voice held an air of desperation. 

“Our reality? After everything, you still have the audacity to act as if this is for our sake?” It was Sumire who spoke this time, a mirror of Maruki's desperation as her voice shook with barely concealed rage. “You will never be the savior you long to be. You are a weak, pathetic man playing god with unwilling actors.”

“We've long since made up our mind, Maruki. We refuse to accept this farce you call reality,” Morgana declared, putting himself between the Thieves and Maruki. Yusuke could feel Diego's presence, a comforting warmth and a light breeze. Protection, for them, and a threat for Maruki. “Let us take Akira, and this, at least, can be settled peacefully.”

Maruki's disappointment was immediate, but he only sighed again. If he did it again, Yusuke didn't know if he could stop himself from showing the man the business end of his katana.

“I was hoping we could come to an understanding about this, but there's still time. Consider your options carefully before you make a decision. I won't stop you, whatever it is.” Maruki smiled at them. He waved a hand, and Sumire flinched when the screen on the wall lit up. “Just make sure whatever choice you make isn't one you'll regret.” 

With that, he disappeared, leaving them alone with Akira and the screen.

Ryuji wasted no time, sprinting to Akira's side, Ann and Futaba following close behind. Yusuke watched Ryuji's hands tremble as he raised one to cup Akira's cheek. His shoulders shook as he let out a sob.

Yusuke didn't remember moving, but one moment he was next to Akechi, and the next he was at Ryuji's side. He laid his own trembling hand on Ryuji's shoulder. He almost pulled his hand away when Ryuji tensed, but he relaxed a second later. Yusuke gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, while Ann held Ryuji's free hand like she'd disappear herself if she let go.

The sound of laughter pulled their attention back to the screen.

It showed a familiar scene, Akira behind the counter at Leblanc, the rest of the Thieves filling the booths and bar stools. The café was full of easy laughter and friendly conversation. Even Akechi was there, sipping his coffee and rolling his eyes when he deemed it appropriate.

For a moment, Yusuke didn't quite understand what he was seeing. But Maruki's offer rang in his head, and the pieces slotted together.

“This is his idea of help?” Yusuke muttered, incredulously. His voice broke on the last word, giving way to a laugh achingly hollow, even to his own ears. “Trapping Akira in his own mind, letting him play out a fantasy that we could be making a reality! How ludicrous! We knew he was too far gone to be reasoned with, but this is just… insane!”

“You don't rewrite reality by being sane,” Akechi sneered, though with the object of his anger gone there was very little heat in his tone. It felt wrong to see Akechi so… extinguished. “If Maruki will not give up Akira willingly, then we'll just have to bring Akira to us.” When the Thieves echoed their agreement, Akechi sighed. “We should discuss this somewhere a bit more… private. There's a safe room nearby, we can go there.”

“We can't just leave Akira here with him!” Ryuji argued. Akechi gave him as close to a sympathetic look as he could manage. If Ryuji's wince was any indication, it didn't quite land.

“I like the idea as little as you do. If you trust me on nothing else, you can at least trust that, I hope.” Akechi let his gaze linger on Akira for the first time since they entered the room. It was clear he wanted to be angry, but to Yusuke, he just looked sad. “Unfortunately, we have no choice. We need to discuss this somewhere Maruki's influence is weaker. And, if nothing else, Maruki is a man of his word. If he truly believes himself to be helping, then he should shield Akira from harm, for the time being.”

“I… I know that, but…” Ryuji took a deep breath, turned his back to everyone, and screamed. It echoed in the vast, empty space, overlapping with the sound of their laughter. Yusuke's chest ached, while Ann whined like a dying animal. Yusuke wonders, for a moment, how long this scene will haunt him. Likely till the day he dies.

Ryuji took one more deep breath, and turned back to face them. “You're right. Let's go,” he said, wiping a stray tear from his eye.

“If any of you tell him I did this, I will kill you. And he probably won't believe you anyway,” Akechi threatened, before stomping over to Ryuji. He grabbed him before the blonde could take a step back, pulling him into a hug. Ryuji stared at them over Akechi's shoulder, the shocked expression on his face was almost enough to make Yusuke laugh, despite the circumstances. He should add it to his sketchbook when this is over, if he remembers.

Akechi pulled away after a moment, clearing his throat. Yusuke hid a smirk behind his fist when he noticed the red tips of Akechi's ears. “Now, if that's over and done with, I believe we have a safe room to get to.”

Chapter Text

Maybe Makoto should've realized Akira would get suspicious of her constant invitations to eat out. In her defense, she thought she was being at least a little tactful.

When Akira responded to her latest invitation with a raised eyebrow, she realized she definitely thought wrong.

“This is the third time you've invited me out this week,” Akira pointed out. Makoto responded with a wince, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers nervously. “What's going on here?”

“Can't I just enjoy your company?” She argued, but crumbled quickly under the weight of Akira's unimpressed stare. “Okay, okay, just stop looking at me like that!” Makoto rolled her eyes at his satisfied smirk. Jackass . “I… It's a combination of things, really. Guilt, worry, shame… I was a coward, letting Kobayakawa hold false promises about my future above my head. I gave away my agency because it seemed easier, stalked you while telling myself any justification that made it a little easier to fall asleep at night. I want to make it up to you. I don't know if I can.”

Whatever Akira expected to get out of this conversation, it clearly hadn't been that. He stared at her like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, head tilted ever so slightly. While she had him speechless, Makoto continued. “In a way, this felt like… a way to start doing right by you. While I loathe how I learned this information, I wanted to put it to good use. I noticed you don't eat a lot.” Akira's eyes widened at that. “I don't want to imply I knew your intentions with any certainty, but it seemed to me to be unintentional. When you said yes to the first invitation, I just… kept going.”

“You…” Akira trailed off, still struggling to find his words. He lowered his gaze for a moment, before meeting her eyes once more. “You're a lot like one of my friends, from my hometown.” The statement piqued Makoto's curiosity, but Akira didn't elaborate any further. “My eating habits aren't really intentional, if that eases your worries at all. It's a weird mix of an odd appetite and forgetting to eat when I'm actually hungry. Morgana reminds me a lot now, actually.”

“That… does ease my worries a bit,” Makoto replied. Akira smiled, but this one was far more genuine. Makoto felt much more at ease seeing it.

“If it'll ease them more, you can continue treating me to food when you worry I haven't eaten. Just, maybe not three times in a week,” he teased. Makoto rolled her eyes, giving him her best mischievous smirk.

“Kurusu, are you trying to get free meals out of me?” She joked. Akira let out the most dramatic gasp she'd ever heard, slapping a hand to his chest.

“I would never do such a thing!” He exclaimed, tone dripping with mock offense. The two stared at each other for a moment, before bursting into laughter.

The last person Makoto felt this comfortable with was her sister, and Sae hasn't elicited that feeling of comfort in years. She missed it, has been desperate to restore it to her home since it disappeared, and here it was, given so freely by someone who should hate her. But Akira didn't hate her, and while Makoto doesn't understand it, she will cherish the gift he's unknowingly given her. He'll never know just how much.

When their laughter dies down, Akira looks down at his phone.

“I've gotta go, I promised I’d show up for one of my part time jobs today,” he said with a grimace. Makoto squeezed his shoulder sympathetically.

“How you find the time for everything you do, I will never understand.”

“I'm a special boy,” Akira replied, turning his grimace into a grin. Makoto chuckled. He turned around, prepared to leave, but paused. Makoto tilted her head, confused, until Akira turned back to her. “I don't envy the position you were in at all, I don't think anyone would. I feel… rage, when I think about the people who put you in that position. You may wonder where my sympathy for you comes from?” She nodded, dumbly. “I see myself in those decisions. I'm… no stranger to sacrificing my agency.” Akira smiled at her, bitterly. “If you're a coward, I am too.”

Makoto was stunned. There's so much she wanted to say, but the words feel lodged in her throat, constricting her airways, choking her on their weight. When Akira turned to leave, Johanna screeches , distress bubbling in Makoto's chest until she's blurting out her next sentence before the words can fully process in her addled brain. “We may be cowards, but it doesn't have to stay that way. We can change. I'd argue we've already made steps in the right direction.”

Akira pauses, taking in her words. The smile he throws over his shoulder is closer to the genuine one from before, but still tinged with that bitterness. “I hope you're right.”

Akira disappeared into the crowd before Makoto could get another word in, leaving her to ponder his words while trying to ignore the unease welling up inside her.

–

Embarrassingly, Makoto was stuck in a bit of a pity party as Akechi guided them to the safe room. Given the circumstances, she decided to forgive herself for the moment of weakness. 

When she said those words to Akira, she had hoped they meant something, to both of them, even if he couldn't bring himself to believe her. And maybe it had, to him, but to her it had clearly just been words. Makoto was a coward, and her best attempts to change were nothing more than a fool's errand.

Be that as it may, the Thieves were looking to her to lead them in Akira's stead. What she had done to deserve that honor, Makoto isn't sure, but she will do everything in her power to make sure their faith in her is not unfounded. She's failed them enough as is.

When they finally made it to the safe room, Akechi slid his phone across the table. No mental preparation could prepare Makoto for the pain she felt, seeing Akira's name in the MetaNav. It felt so… wrong.

“All we need is the location, and the distortion itself,” Akechi said, leveling them with a tired expression. “Any ideas? Theories?”

“Knowingly or not, I think Maruki gave us a huge hint,” Futaba replied. “When he was describing Akira's distortion, he said it was everywhere. I think it's possible the distortion encompasses the whole of Tokyo, or at the very least the parts Akira's been to.” Akechi nodded, typing it into the waiting space once Futaba slid his phone back over.

Once he finished, it made that tell tale sound, and Makoto felt the air grow heavier for a moment, felt the distortion around them shift. It was an odd sensation. She thought she'd get used to it over time, but it's as disorienting as it was the first time, to her continual dismay.

“That's the easier one out of the way,” Makoto muttered. “The distortion, though…”

“If my memory serves, the Velvet Room's appearance is dependent on its occupant. So, maybe prison?” Morgana suggested. Akechi entered it, but shook his head.

“Hmm… A stage, perhaps?” Haru proposed. “Akira's quite the showman, after all.” But Akechi shook his head again.

This went on for a few minutes, everyone growing more and more frustrated at each shake of Akechi's head. It ended when Yusuke spoke up, the first time he had since they made it to the safe room.

“Wonderland.” When Akechi raised an eyebrow in an unspoken question, Yusuke explained. “Have any of you noticed the book he keeps at his bedside? Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. I wouldn't have thought much of it, but he get's this… look, when he sees it. I could never get it out of my mind, especially now.”

Akechi shrugged. “It's as good an idea as any we've already tried.” He entered the word into the Nav, and the distortion in the room changed.

“Wait, are we gonna be okay entering Akira's palace from here?” Ann yelped.

“Candidate found.”

“It'll be fine! Probably,” Morgana said, trying to be reassuring. The look on Ann's face told Makoto it wasn't working very well.

“Beginning navigation.”

The air grew heavier. Makoto closed her eyes, and let the weight drag her away.

–

The rabbit took a look at his pocket watch, then peeked around the corner. Sure enough, he was there, locked in the cell.

He hopped over, gaining the boy's attention. He grabbed the bars of his cell with bloodied hands.

“Rabbit! Get over here, I need your help,” he insisted. The rabbit rolled his eyes, exasperated and affectionate in equal measure.

“Yes, yes, you always need my help, don't you?” He teased in return, earning himself a heated glare. Not the time, perhaps. “Well, I suppose I could do a favor for an old friend, yes? What is it you need?”

“Find the cat,” the boy replied. The rabbit could practically taste his desperation. A fine sight, under different circumstances, that is. “He's ignoring me, the bastard. Probably thinks he's being funny. Once you find him, find them, and lead them here. You can do that, can't you?”

The rabbit scoffed. “Of course I can! Why you even bothered with that mangy thing is beyond me, I could handle this without him!”

“I'm sure you could,” he agreed. “But please.”

“I already agreed, didn't I?” The rabbit replied. “Consider it done.”

“Thank you.” He gave a smile, so very sweet, when you ignored the blood smeared on his clothes and face. “I bow to your endless kindness,” he joked with an accompanying curtsy. The rabbit let out a laugh as he hopped to leave.

“Let's just hope my endless kindness can save the day once again, hmm?”

–

When Makoto opened her eyes, she was greeted by a beautiful forest, a clearing to be exact. They were surrounded by an assortment of flora, a small pond to their right. Makoto stared at the large fungi in wonder.

“This is definitely the prettiest palace we've been to, so far,” Haru muttered.

“I don't know… Futaba's pyramid was incredibly beautiful. A true marvel of architecture,” Yusuke added, making Futaba snort.

“Glad the manifestation of my trauma was aesthetically pleasing for you.” It earned her a couple laughs while Yusuke sputtered to defend himself.

“Well, well, well! Look who we have here,” a familiar voice called out. Everyone looked at Ryuji, but he shook his head. “No, not that one! I'm over here!” 

It was a perfect replica of Ryuji, but the cat ears on his head were definitely… new. She could hear Futaba snickering behind her, and when she glanced at Ryuji, she noticed his cheeks were slightly red. When she looked back to what she realized was likely a cognition, she noticed a missing bit on his ear, like part of it had been torn off. He was dressed in gray pajamas, surprisingly clean for sitting in a dirty tree. He gave them a mischievous grin.

“He said you guys would be coming! Wanted me to find the rabbit before finding you, but that guys a lame ass if you ask me.” The cognition jumped down from its spot in the tree, taking a few steps towards them. It stopped when they took a step back, distrust evident in their features. It rolled its eyes, giving them an annoyed expression that looked very odd on Ryuji's face. “C'mon, do you really think any being in a palace created by Akira is gonna hurt you? Don't make me laugh.”

“If you aren't here to hurt us, what are you here for?” Makoto asked, putting herself between the cognition and the rest of the Thieves. Haru came to stand at her side, and the cognition snorted at the display.

“Your protectiveness is cute, I'll give you that,” it teased, though it fell a bit flat. It sighed. “You guys are no fun. To answer your question, I'm here to lead you to him. Wonderland's not what it once was.”

The cognition looked around, keeping his mischievous grin, but the air around him was… sad. It sighed.

“Unfortunately, he'll likely be upset if I show up without the rabbit in tow,” it grumbled, kicking up dirt like a child throwing a tantrum. “Buuut~! Who's to say we can't look around while that airhead makes his way here, hmm?”

“Who are you calling an airhead?” A new voice countered. The cognitive Ryuji jumped, turning on its heels.

“Why must you always ruin my fun!” It whined. When they got a look at the rabbit, Futaba burst into laughter.

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” Akechi muttered in disbelief.

“Neither of you are ever living this down!” Futaba replied, giggling all the while. Akechi glared at her as if the strength of his gaze alone would be enough to put her under. She just laughed harder in response.

The rabbit was a cognition of Akechi, ears and all. It had a top hat and a red waistcoat, and was slipping a pocket watch into its pocket as it rolled its eyes at the cognitive Ryuji. 

“It's what I was created for,” it deadpanned, ignoring the Thieves entirely for a moment. “He's not very happy with you, y'know.”

“Aww, he'll get over it,” the Cat replied nonchalantly, waving a hand in the Rabbit's direction. “He loves me.”

“So,” Makoto cut in. If these cognitions were anything like their real counterparts, this could go on for a while if no one stopped them. Their heads snapped over to her. “If you two are both here… can you guide us through here?”

“Certainly!” The Rabbit replied. “It's what we're here for, after all. Though, I'll definitely be more helpful than this mang– ow, don't elbow me!”

“Then don't call me mangy,” the Cat huffed. “I am far from mangy.”

“He calls you mangy,” the Rabbit grumbled. The cat rolled its eyes.

“He gets special privileges,” it snapped. “Now shut up, we have a job to do. I, for one, don't intend to disappoint him.” 

“I don't either!” The Rabbit argued. It turned to them, its expression a mix of determined and annoyed. “Let's go. You're all ready, yes?”

“We've been ready since we set foot in here,” Akechi replied, equally annoyed. “It's you two who have been holding us up.”

“... I suppose that's true. Apologies.” The Rabbit pulled out its pocket watch, wincing at whatever it saw when it opened it. “We've wasted enough time already. We must go now.” The Thieves nodded in agreement.

“Lead the way,” Makoto replied.

We're on our way, Akira. Wait for us just a little longer, okay?

Chapter Text

Haru's home was beautiful. Probably to be expected, considering who her father was, but Morgana was still a little stunned by just how nice everything in the Okumura house was. Everything looked lavish and expensive, probably worth more than Akira ever made in a single paycheck—

He shook the thought away. Don't think about him.

The food Haru had provided him with was amazing too. Those who said money couldn't buy happiness clearly didn't have enough money for fancy sushi.

… was Akira remembering to eat without him?

Was he remembering, and not eating anyway?

And don't get him started on Haru's bed. Morgana was certain it was hand crafted by the gods. It was the most comfortable thing he could remember sleeping on. And Haru's comforter was nice, too. The perfect texture and weight.

A bed supported by milk crates, and a teenage boy shivering under a too thin sheet with too many holes. He only got a blanket when Sojiro gave him one.

Morgana's gaze found Haru's sleeping face. There was something about her expression, not quite serene, but not quite distressed, and wondered— not for the first time— if he was making a huge mistake.

Haru clearly needed more than he could provide her. More than mentoring in Phantom Thief business, she needed friends. And here Morgana was, purposefully separating her from people who could understand her, even if only a little, and for what? To prove his worth to people who weren't around to appreciate his effort, because he kept pushing them away?

Morgana lets his gaze drift from Haru to the window. The glow of the moon felt mocking, somehow. Or maybe he was just going insane.

"You guys should tone it down," he heard Akira's voice in his head. At the time, he had taken Akira's tone as scolding, but here, he felt like he could see it for what it had always been: concern. For the both of them. "You and Ryuji… you guys get harsh. Banter is one thing, but… I'm worried one, or both of you, might cross a line you can't take back."

How did they let it get to this point? He's seen Akira give Ryuji the same talks before. Why did they never listen?

'I have to fix this,' Morgana thought to himself, curling up near Haru. She was warmer than Akira was, he could feel the heat radiating off her. A deep ache filled his chest. He missed Akira. 'I have to fix this.'

Morgana fell into an uneasy sleep that night, planning his reunion with his Thieves, trying to ignore all the visions of their scorn.

—

Morgana had hoped— maybe naively, but he was quite literally created from hope, so sue him— that he and Akira wouldn't be separated after that. Unfortunately, the powers that be seemed determined to make Morgana miserable. Seriously, what kind of Phantom Thieves not only let their leader and, more importantly, friend develop a palace, but let him be snatched right out from under their noses?!

Morgana doesn't know who he's angrier at, himself or Maruki.

He did know one thing, though. They were going to steal that treasure and bring Akira home, Morgana would make sure of it. Even if it killed him, if he succeeded in nothing else, he would succeed in that.

The forest was a lot larger than Morgana would have assumed. The cognitions lead them down so many winding paths, no one could keep track of where they were going. Morgana vaguely recognized some of the flowers from watching Akira at the flower shop, but the names and meanings of most were lost on him. Though there was one that caught his eye; sweat peas. Thank you for a lovely time.

There was something off, though. Morgana spent enough time in the flower shop to know what flowers should smell like, and these were not it. There was an overwhelming smell of decay. A quick glance around told him he wasn't the only one who noticed the foul odor, though he wondered how many of them had placed the source. Makoto, Haru, and Akechi, surely? Maybe Sumire…

The trees had fruit hanging from them in the form of glass shards in different shapes. Some were smooth and neat, while others were jagged and erratic. If Morgana stared at them long enough, he could see Akira's face reflected in them for just a moment. His expression varied, from happy and peaceful to angry and hurt. Morgana had an urge to touch one, but he was scared of what might happen if he did, so he refrained.

Ryuji seemed to have no such reservations, however, and reached up to touch one of the apple shaped shards, careful to avoid the jagged edges. The effect was instantaneous, Ryuji's eyes widened as he stumbled backward with a gasp. He covered his mouth as a sob tore from his throat. Ann was at his side in an instant.

"Ryuji?! What happened?!" Ryuji gripped her sleeve with his free hand, trying to calm himself enough to speak.

"I wouldn't recommend touching anymore of those," The Cat chimed in, though its tone was surprisingly sympathetic. "You likely won't like what you see."

"What are they?" Akechi demanded. The glare he stared them down with was intense enough to have both cognitions shifting their weight from foot to foot.

"Memory shards," the Rabbit replied.

"Very creative," Akechi deadpanned, earning an equally intense glare from the Rabbit.

"Shut up and listen," it hissed. Akechi, very wisely, shut his mouth. "As I'm sure you so wisely realized, the name is quite self explanatory; they hold memories of His, though most of them are… far from pleasant."

"You can think of it like a moment frozen in time," The Cat chimed in once again. "They're significant in their own ways, but a significant memory isn't always a good one."

"Akira was in the back of a police car," Ryuji muttered after a moment of silence, bringing the groups attention back to him. "I could see the officers in the front seats, their mouths were moving, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. Just Akira's voice, repeating 'What am I gonna do now?' and 'My life is officially over, isn't it?'"

The night Akira was arrested. It was a story all the Thieves knew well enough, as the boy in question recounted the story to each of them when they joined, or sat idly by as Ryuji, Ann, or Morgana explained it for him. Akira always talked about it like it was a plot point in a show he watched and not the reality of his life, something that confused Morgana to no end before. It made a startling amount of sense now.

"How many times did we make him relive that moment?" Multiple people winced as Futaba asked the question on all their minds, the one no one wanted to voice.

"More often than we ever should have," Yusuke replied, bitterness dripping from every word. It wasn't directed at her, necessarily, but it made Futaba wilt anyway.

"We already knew making this right would take more than this rescue mission," Morgana announced. Everyone looked to him as he propped himself up on Sumire's shoulder. "This just confirms we have plenty of work to do once this is over. Failure is a learning experience. Channel the guilt you feel as part of your motivation to change."

Morgana let his thoughts run as the group took in his words.

Akira may have had problems taking care of himself, but he had been getting better, and that's probably what upset Morgana the most. He was eating more, and taking more time for himself to rest and spend time with his loved ones… hell, he'd started opening up to Morgana in ways the not-cat only dreamed of when they first met. When he looked back at his memories, he can see the exact moment everything started going to shit.

The Interrogation.

Morgana had an uneasy feeling then, that didn't go away even after Akira was finally safe with them again. Everyone wanted to give Akira more time to recover, both physically and mentally, after everything he'd been through, but the boy threw himself (and them) into Shido's palace the second he was physically able.

Everyone tried to argue with him on it, but he stayed firm in his intention. Not even Ryuji could sway him, which the blonde was clearly moping about for the first few infiltrations. Not that Morgana could blame him, he'd been moping as well.

His thoughts were cut off by a scream. The group looked around as birds took off to the skies in their panic, and another scream from somewhere beyond the line of trees.

"Futaba?!" Makoto called out with distress, looking for the girl who had been standing next to her just a second ago.

"Don't worry, I'm fine!" Came her reply. Morgana breathed a sigh of relief when he looked to the sky once more, seeing Al Azif hovering above them. "Two readings further in, but one is close to reaching some kind of boundary between this area and the next. They aren't shadows either, likely more cognitions. Stay on your guard, everyone!"

Makoto bounced back quickly once it was clear Futaba was safe. "Got it! Haru, Ryuji, Morgana, form a frontline with me!"

"But, what about our personas?" Haru asked. As soon as the question left her mouth, she looked down at her newly gloved hands in surprise. "… I guess that answers that?"

"Does that mean Akira's shadow is seeing us as a threat now?" Ryuji asked, miserably. Morgana winced from his new place at Makoto's side.

"Not quite," The Rabbit replied, patting Ryuji on the arm in what it clearly thought was a comforting manner. With the way Ryuji started rubbing his arm once it finished, Morgana guessed it used too much force. "He wants you to find him. Seeing you as threats would be antithetical to that."

"On the flip side," continued the Cat from its side. "He knows your abilities are tied to your attire. He is one of you, after all. You could say He's using the mechanics of this place to assist you."

"So, if I'm understanding this right," Morgana began. "Akira's shadow is seeing us as a threat, but just to give us access to our personas?" Their cognitive guides nodded.

"Precisely! If you believe you may be in danger, He wants you to have the means to protect yourself."

It was so in character for Akira it made Morgana's heart ache. The cognitions had already assured them nothing in the palace would attempt to hurt them, and Morgana was inclined to believe them, but to think Akira's shadow would manage to bend the rules of his own palace to aid them?

"Why is Akira's shadow so willing to help us?" Morgana couldn't help but ask. "Futaba asked us to change her heart, and her shadow wasn't nearly as agreeable."

The cognitions looked at each other with something in their gaze Morgana couldn't find the words to describe, but it made the heavy feeling in his chest grow exponentially.

"He was going to ask for help too," The Cat admitted, in a miserable tone that didn't match the grin on its face. "But He never got the chance. There were… complications."

"Maruki," Akechi growled, but Morgana wasn't listening to him, or anyone for that matter, anymore.

Akira was going to ask for help. Whether he knew about the palace or not, Morgana didn't know for sure, but he wouldn't be surprised if he did. Either way, Akira knew something was wrong and had wanted to ask them for help.

But he never got the chance. Maruki made the choice for him.

Akira trusted you, he thought, angrily. He remembered how Akira talked about his time with Maruki, how he enjoyed being able to talk with someone who didn't have the same expectations of him as the Thieves. How he genuinely seemed to enjoy the man's company, despite how many times he'd been wronged by those in positions of power, by those with power over him. Akira's trust was not an easy thing to earn. He trusted you, and this is how you repay that?

"Guys?" Came Futaba's voice, bringing him out of his head once again. "One cognition was dragged to the boundary. The other is coming this way."

The Phantom Thieves took defensive stances just as the foliage in front of them began to rustle. A few minutes later, a boy in a gray school uniform with crazed eyes and a katana pushed through the bushes. His clothes were torn and covered in blood, but with the many lacerations Morgana could see through the rips in his sleeves, it was hard to tell if the blood belonged to him or someone else.

He pointed the sword at them, but his hands were shaking, and Morgana could see the sheen of tears in his eyes.

"W— Where is he?!" The boy demanded, tightening his grip on the hilt till the sword trembled in time with his body. "Where did you take him?!"

"We didn't take anyone," Makoto replied, keeping her voice as steady as possible. Despite being in her Metaverse attire, she didn't feel much like the queen her codename implied. "But, maybe we can help you look for him? We're looking for someone, too."

The boy shook his head as tears poured down his cheeks. "He's my best friend. My partner," he whined like a wounded animal. "I need to find him. I need to know he's okay." The boy dropped to his knees, his sword similarly discarded. He covered his face with his hands as he sobbed uncontrollably, hiding from their concerned gazes.

A sharp intake of breath. Morgana searched until his gaze found Ryuji. The boy was pale, he looked almost sick. Morgana didn't know what about the statement bothered Ryuji so much, until a memory struck him so suddenly he wanted to throw up too.

"Where is he?!" Morgana had never heard Akira sound like that before. The boy looked around, desperate, but his friends were only mirroring his own distress. "Ryuji?!"

"There— There's no way… right…?" Ann's voice trembled from behind her hand. "He can't be…"

Akira took one step forward, then two, before falling to his knees. His sobs sounded more like screams as he gripped his hair in tight fists. Morgana was at his side in an instant, but his own distress rolled off him in waves, and Akira only sobbed harder in response.

The group stayed like that, in various states of disarray, until they heard Ryuji's concerned shouts from down the street.

Morgana gasped as the cognitions sobs brought him back to the present. He and Ryuji, seemingly, weren't the only ones who made the connection, if the looks on their faces were saying anything. Only Sumire and Akechi seemed to be in the dark, which was to be expected.

He also noticed, idly, that they weren't in their thief attire anymore.

Makoto took a deep breath, steadying herself, before walking towards the cognition. She knelled down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. When he met her gaze, some of the tension in his body eased at her smile.

"Let us help you. Can you tell us about your partner? What happened to him?"

"That's the problem, I don't know!" He cried, frustration bleeding into every word. "One minute, we were together, looking for…" he trailed off with a confused expression. He shook his head, continuing. "Someone. And the next, he was gone! Dragged deeper into the forest by… something that sounded like chains. I heard them rattling, before he disappeared."

Now that was something. The Reaper, perhaps? But they had never encountered it outside of Mementos… maybe this was a cognition of it?

Makoto seemed to be going through a similar line of thought, but instead asked. "What's your name? And your partners?"

"My name is Yu…" he muttered, sniffling. He wiped the tear tracks on his cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket. "His name is Yosuke. We were looking for… for…" he groaned, dragging his hands over his face. "I don't remember! It's coming up blank!"

"Let's take it one issue at a time," Makoto suggested softly. "Let's find your partner. Maybe he'll remember who you were looking for."

When he nodded, Makoto helped him to stand. Yu winced when he looked at the blood he'd left on her clothes and hands.

"Sorry," he muttered, but Makoto shook her head with a smile.

"Don't worry about it, it's no big deal." She guided him towards the group, giving him a rundown of everyone's names. "Futaba, can you guide us to that boundary you mentioned?"

"I'm on it! Follow me!"

—

Futaba had come back down to guide them through the forest, letting her persona guide her via "vibes," as she described it. The Cat and Rabbit pestered her endlessly about where they were going, seemingly upset to have been replaced as guides. The Rabbit was especially pouty, which looked incredibly funny on Akechi's face. Such a shame no one could snap a picture, Akira would love to see it.

Yu spent his time telling Makoto about his partner. Morgana wasn't sure what kind of partners they were, but it was obvious whoever Yosuke was, he was very important to this boy. He seemed to be comfortable around Makoto, and surprisingly content with being led around the forest his partner disappeared in. Though, Morgana chalked that up to him not being alone anymore.

Though, Morgana wondered just who these people were to Akira. Before this guy, the only cognitions they'd come across were Ryuji and Akechi, in the form of their— still pouting— original tour guides. It made sense to see them here, but these boys were a mystery, to Morgana, at least.

Akira occasionally talked of friends from his hometown. Could these boys be them?

Suddenly, Yu stopped in his tracks. His hands trembled as he reached to grip Makoto's sleeve. The peaceful expression he'd adopted while talking about his partner (Morgana vaguely recognized it, but couldn't place where) was replaced with terror.

"D— Did you hear that?" He whispered, earning confused looked from the group around him.

"Uh… hear what?" Ryuji asked.

The palace responded in kind, and a chill ran down Morgana's spine as the sound of chains rattling filled is ears.

"Is that the Reaper?! Here?!" Ann shrieked as Ryuji grabbed her wrist with a terrified expression.

"Is that even possible?" Yusuke gasped, stepping in front of Futaba and Sumire. Futaba reached out to grab the fabric of his jacket. Makoto pushed her own panic from the forefront of her mind.

If Akira's shadow was willing to help us before, help us now. Please, Morgana thought, wishing he could manifest their Metaverse forms through his desperation alone. Alas, whatever assistance the shadow gave them before, he was withholding now. Morgana could only hope he had a good reason.

"Everyone, ca—"

She was cut off by the sound of chains as the rattling reached it's crescendo. Everyone reached to cover their ears, but Makoto looked down fast enough to watch bloody chains wrap around Yu's ankle.

He gave her a sad smile, letting go of her sleeve with a look of hollow acceptance. "Thank you. It was wonderful to meet you all."

"WAIT—!" Makoto screamed.

She reached out to grab him, but he was dragged just too far before she could reach him.

The Phantom Thieves watched in horror as more and more chains shot out to wrap around his form, ensuring the cognition had no means of escape. As he was dragged away, his last words echoed in their ears.

"I'll see you soon, Yosuke."

And then— silence. Unnatural, unsettling silence.

Makoto's hand stayed raised, trembling, as tears fell from her eyes. Haru raced to her side, pulling her into a hug the second she was in arms length. Makoto's hands hung to their sides, though she buried her face in Haru's shoulder to muffle her cries.

At some point, Ann had scooped Morgana into her arms, swaying back and forth as she scratched lightly behind his ear. It was unclear who she was trying to comfort, him or herself, but Morgana accepted the familiar affection nonetheless.

That expression Yu had, before he let the chains drag him away. Morgana had seen it before, just like he had seen that peaceful expression.

Those were Akira's expressions. Morgana had seen that same serene smile on his face while he listened to Ryuji ramble about whatever caught the blonde's attention that day. He'd seen that sad acceptance on Akira's face when they made the big plan, like his fate had been decided for him. Like the only way their adventure could end was the same as how it began, with Akira in handcuffs, at the mercy of people with far more power over others than they deserved.

Morgana had a theory for what these cognitions were trying to show them, and he didn't know if he liked it.

Unbeknownst to anyone below, a butterfly sat on a branch nearby, unnaturally still, other than the occasional stiff beat of it's blue wings.

—

The boy watched the two have their reunion, jealousy swirling around in his chest.

Why do you get to have a sweet reunion without me? Why did they?

He picked up the knife sitting next to him, attempting to find his reflection in the bloodied blade. All he could see were shining yellow eyes.

He stood, slowly, as the lock on his cell opened with a click! The door opened on it's own as he stepped forward, the creaking sound bringing the conversation outside to a halt. The chains moved with his will, wrapping one around each of their ankles.

No matter what, they would never leave him completely.

But, if he was stuck here…

He stepped out of his cell with a smile that could only be described as dangerous.

Their eyes widened.

"I finally remember!" Yu exclaimed. "It's you we were looking for!"

The boy laughed.

"I'm afraid it's too little, too late for that. Because I found you. Do you know what that means?" His smile widened when they shook their heads. Their terrified expressions pleased him. This is what you deserve. "That you and I are gonna have a lot of fun here!"

If he was stuck here, they would be too.

"Forever."