You could find out most things, if you knew the right questions to ask. Even if you didn’t, you could still find out a lot.
- Iain M. Banks, “The Player of Games”
4/29
Ryuji yawns and stretches his arms over his head. "And here I was, plannin' on sleeping through the morning class."
Akira peers past him and looks at Ann. "Any idea what this is about?"
She glances back and says in a hushed voice, "My guess is that it’s about Shiho. I mean, nothing else has happened that would make them call for an assembly."
The announcement had come during homeroom. All Shujin students were to report to the gymnasium.
Principal Kobayakawa stands in a quiet huddle with a few other faculty members upon the stage. None of their words carry to the students.
Whispers bounce back and forth. Akira stretches his head and sees Kawakami near the stairs to the stage. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, and her head droops forward. She'd looked the same during homeroom too. He scans the crowd, trying to find Makoto or Haru, but only finds a sea of faceless kids.
"You alright, man?" Ryuji asks.
"Hm?"
"You got a bunch of scratches on your face."
"Oh," Akira says and rubs the tiny cuts. "Yeah. Morgana doesn't like his new nickname."
Ryuji smirks. "What's the name?"
"Mona-chan."
Both Ryuji and Ann laugh. "That's perfect," Ann says. "How'd you come up with that?"
Akira smiles. "I didn't. It was-"
"Attention." The word booms through the room with microphone feedback, and the student body collectively cringes. Principal Kobayakawa stands at the stage's podium, the vomit-colored suit still bulging with his barely contained mass. "Quiet, please." He clears his throat into the mike as the whispers die down. "In light of the recent tragedy-"
CLANG.
Everyone turns their head to the gymnasium's door.
Kamoshida stands in the entryway, head dipped forward, arms at his sides, slack. His posture is stooped. His skin is pale. His hair is a scraggly mess, absent its typical style.
"Dude," Ryuji whispers. "Dude, dude, dude!"
Akira knows what his friend is trying to say. This is it.
"Kamoshida-sensei," Principal Kobayakawa states into the microphone. "I didn't… that is to say, we didn't expect you back today."
Kamoshida’s name animates him, but he winces at it. He takes one haggard step forward, then another. His feet barely leave the ground, as if loathe to do so. Kamoshida shambles towards the stage, and the students in his path push and shove themselves out of his way. It does not affect him. The man seems unable to focus upon anything but his slow, awful march.
He climbs the steps to the stage with what looks like extreme difficulty. Ryuji puts a hand on Akira's shoulder. He looks at his friend and sees his brow knitted, eyes fixed on the stage. When he looks at Ann, he sees her pale, clutching Ryuji's hand in a desperate grip.
Kamoshida turns to the crowd, drops to his knees, and begins to sob. "I'm sorry," he moans. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
No one says anything. Every student is silent.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Kamoshida repeats the words, again and again like a mantra, a rite.
It is the Principal, still at the podium, who breaks the cycle. "Kamoshida-sensei, what're you talking about?"
He stops his chant and looks out at the students with red-rimmed eyes. "I raped Shiho Suzui."
The crowd ripples and gasps. Akira feels Ryuji's hand tighten on his shoulder.
"I am the reason she tried to kill herself. I have solicited sexual favors from other female students and held designs upon numerous others." His head tilts forward, but Akira does not get the impression that he looks at anything. "Recently, I have made attempts to coerce Ann Takamaki into a sexual relationship. I spread false rumors about our being together to facilitate this." The words fall from him. "I threatened the transfer student with expulsion if he didn't assist me in this. I forced other students to leak his information online. I have both physically and mentally abused students, both male and female. I actively sought to disband sports teams and clubs that drew attention and funds from the volleyball team. I have...I've..." The sobs return. "I am so sorry. For all I've done."
Akira's heart hammers in his chest. It worked. It actually worked.
"To atone for my crimes, I hereby resign from Shujin Academy, and I fully intend to kill myself."
Another gasp from the students. The whispers begin anew.
Ann takes her hand from Ryuji's and steps forward. She shoves her way past the students ahead of her, approaching the stage. Ryuji and Akira glance at one another and follow in her wake.
Kamoshida is still speaking. "Now then, I'll-"
Ann reaches the front of the crowd and screams, "No!"
Silence. All eyes turn to her, even Kamoshida's. A spark of life returns to him as he regards her.
Ann's hands are clenched into fists. When Akira and Ryuji catch up to her, they see her teeth are gritted, and her eyes are hard and storming. "You don't get to run from this, you bastard! Shiho's in the hospital, in a coma because of you, and you just want to kill yourself and get it over with? That's not good enough!" She points one long, shaking finger at her former tormentor. "You should live with what you've done. You should have to remember it every day!"
"Ann," Ryuji whispers and reaches out a hand for her shoulder. She turns to look at him, and Ryuji falters under her gaze. Then he nods and turns towards Kamoshida. "Yeah," he shouts. "Dying’s easy. You don't deserve easy."
Kamoshida looks at them both and bows his head. "You're right," he mumbles. "You're absolutely right." He looks up at Principal Kobayakawa. "Sir, would you please contact the authorities? I'll turn myself in."
#
The three stand in the empty gymnasium, the call to return to class forgotten.
"I can't believe it’s over," Ann says.
Ryuji and Akira nod. The police had arrived and escorted a sniveling Kamoshida out of the building. The flustered Principal had ordered everyone back to their classrooms, but few had listened. Unable to move, the three teens had retreated to the back of the gym. A procession of students had approached Ann then, offering their apologies for believing Kamoshida's lies. Ann had smiled, nodded, thanked them, and given them acquittal, but Akira could tell her heart wasn't in it. Her outburst, though short-lived, had exhausted her.
When those same students had met Akira's gaze, however, their eyes had quickly dropped. No one offered him any condolences or apologies. A sick feeling twisted itself in Akira's gut, but he tried to be happy for Ann.
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"At least we didn't kill him," Ryuji mutters, and sighs. "Gotta admit, I almost feel kind of bad for him."
Ann glares at him. "Seriously?"
He shrugs. "I don't know. I mean, you saw him up there. He seemed really sorry for what he did. He must've been a normal guy once before his shit got all messed up."
"And when we changed his heart," Akira says. "All that came back to him."
"Must've been one hell of a shock."
"Bastard deserved it," Ann mumbles.
"I'm not sayin' he didn't," Ryuji grumbles. "It's just, I don't know."
They stand in silence until Ann's phone vibrates, and she pulls it from her pocket. Her eyes widen. "It's Shiho's mom." Without another word, she puts the phone up to her ear and says, "Hello?" She takes a few steps away from the two boys, who regard each other with worried glances.
"Uh-huh," Ann says. "I see." Her voice drops a few octaves, becomes dim. "Okay... Yeah, of course. I'll talk to you soon."
She hangs up and lets her hand drop to her side; the phone held loose in quivering fingers.
"Ann?" Akira asks. The two boys each take a half-step towards her. "What's wrong?"
"...woke up," she whispers.
"What'd you say?" Ryuji asks.
Ann whirls on them, and tears streak down her face. "Shiho woke up!" She crosses the distance between the two of them and throws one arm around each of their necks. Her head drops between their shoulders, and her sobs burst from her lips in a loud, relieved wail.
Akira stands there, his shock matched by Ryuji's wide-eyed face. Their eyes meet across Ann's back as she shudders into both of them. Then, they both smile, and each rests a hand on Ann's back.
The three stand like that for a long while.
#
Makoto sits in the student council room. She holds the Calling Card in her hands. The poorly drawn top-hatted figure smirks out at her. She turns it over and reads the words once more.
We're going to steal your sick desires and make you confess your sins with your own mouth.
And so he had.
The Phantom Thieves of Hearts. This can't be real. How had this happened? Blackmail? Some kind of threat? Psychological manipulation?
Ultimately, it didn't matter. The Phantom Thieves had singled out Kamoshida, and they'd beaten him.
Then everything Kurusu and Sakamoto said about Kamoshida was true. They were right all along. Makoto blinks. Akira Kurusu. Ryuji Sakamoto. Ann Takamaki. Something about this didn't sit right with her. Students had deluged the halls with whispers.
"Did you hear what he said about Kurusu?"
"Can you believe Kurusu agreed to help get Takamaki to sleep with him? What a scumbag!"
"I saw him trying to do it the other day! Hell, I heard him trying to convince her to go to him."
"Bet it didn't take much convincing. Expulsion probably doesn't mean much to someone like Kurusu."
The words were barbs in her skin, but Makoto brushed them off as best she could. Perhaps she could cull the gossipers from the halls one day, but too much spun about in her mind.
Kamoshida had broken Ryuji Sakamoto's leg and torpedoed the track team last year. This reframed the narrative of Ryuji Sakamoto, which supported Akira's attestation that Ryuji was a good person. Makoto knew from experience that while Akira had a temper, he was - fundamentally - a decent human being.
She had seen Akira and Ann Takamaki together, at various times, over the past few days. Akira could not have been trying to convince Takamaki to engage in a sexual relationship with Kamoshida. This begged the question, what had they been doing?
Kamoshida had pursued a sexual relationship with Takamaki and was directly responsible for Suzui's - Takamaki's best friend - suicide attempt.
Kamoshida had ruined Sakamoto's scholastic career and reputation.
Kamoshida had brutally beaten Akira just the other day and blackmailed him with expulsion.
Makoto shudders at the memory of Akira's bruised and broken face. She looks once more at the Calling Card. Could it be them?
She hadn't spoken with Akira since Sakamoto and Takamaki had rushed him out of the school. Makoto hadn't even thanked Akira for the birthday present. Had this been what he was doing?
She shakes her head. There are too many questions, too many threads. Did it even matter? Kamoshida was in police custody. He would atone. Whatever the Phantom Thieves had done - regardless of who they were - it was over now.
Wasn't it?
#
Kawakami is alone in the faculty office. The day's events have sapped whatever energy remained to her, and she sits slumped over in her chair, a ragdoll not yet toppled. Kamoshida's confession blares through her thoughts like a song she can't shake. Somewhere buried beneath the textbooks on her desk is the crumpled-then-smoothed Calling Card left by the Phantom Thieves. She'd snatched it from the hallway the day it appeared and had felt a thrill at the criminality it summoned within. Kawakami had felt a thief herself. Confronting Kamoshida in front of everyone had charged her in a way she's forgotten she could feel.
The upside was gone now. All Kawakami felt was the roiling agony of watching a student attempt suicide. At seeing Shiho Suzui's broken and battered limbs splayed upon the courtyard's green. And what had she done? What had she really done? Call out Kamoshida? What had that accomplished? Nothing. It had been an indulgence, a micro-adventure she'd set out upon and concluded all in the span of a few sentences.
Kawakami does not know how the Phantom Thieves got Kamoshida to confess, or if they are the ones responsible, but she feels shame at her inability to feel relief at the man's confession. All she feels is redundant despair, feeding itself to itself.
The sun begins to set outside. Kawakami's phone vibrates with her appointment reminders. It reminds her of so much more. Who she is - really is. What she is. What she isn't. When she examines the drama that had unfolded at Shujin, Shiho's suicide attempt, Kamoshida's Calling Card, and confession, Sadayo Kawakami had been inconsequential.
A thousand various things spiral through her head, but with the clarity of someone who has done so many times before, she shuts down all speculation and begins to set herself through the motions. She has places to be.
#
"...after which, the police were called, and Suguru Kamoshida was taken into custody. There is speculation among the student body and online," the newscaster continues, "as to whether the apparent Calling Card left by a group calling themselves 'The Phantom Thieves of Hearts' is responsible for..."
Takemi switches off the TV and turns on her music. It blares in an instant hellfire of noise, but this drowns out all distractions. Takemi can sleep with this music on if she needs to. She has before. A half dozen threads tug at her attention, and they all lead back to one person.
Kurusu, she thinks. Was this you?
#
Akira sits at his desk. Morgana snoozes at the foot of his bed.
Akira’s phone is open, and his eyes soak in the RINE chat messages.
…poor Takamaki!!!! (Bet she enjoyed the attention!)
don’t b a dick
What he said about Kurusu though! Fucking crazy!
…kind of piece of shit would agree to that???? (He would. He totally…)
…Phantom Thieves should take care of HIM next…
(…be stupid. The Phantom Thieves aren’t real…)
…in the hall together!
Heard he was studying in the Library. Anyone confirm?
(I saw him there.) (Me too) (Me too) (Was studying with the President.) (Seriously?)
Absolutely. She looked miserable just being… (Doesn’t surprise me, actually)
…guy killed someone, pimping out Takamaki wouldn’t be a…
DOES NO ONE CARE HOW KAMOSHIDA GOT HIS HEART CHANGED
DOES THIS FREAK OUT NO ONE ELSE
WTF ARE YOU ALL TALKING ABOUT
Chill out dude who cares?
(…still say Kurusu should get a Calling Card…)
Akira tosses his phone down on his desk. He sits in the silence for a few minutes, then decides to try and sleep.
#
Akira opens his eyes.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
A faint, far-off wail. The soft clattering of shifting chains.
"The king is dead," Igor intones.
Akira sighs and sits up. He turns his head and looks through the bars at the long-nosed thing.
"Or," Igor whispers. "Close enough."
"Is this a dream?" Akira asks.
"Yes," Igor replies.
Akira lets out a long sigh. "So, this isn't real?"
"Yes.”
Akira feels something twist in his stomach. "Wait, yes as in this isn't real, or yes as in it is real?"
Igor chuckles. "Yes."
Akira approaches the cells and snaps, "Can't you give me a straight-"
MINDYOURTONGUEINMATE
Akira cringes beneath Caroline's onslaught and shuts his eyes.
"Fear not, inmate," Justine whispers. "Our forms are still hidden from your uncomprehending sight. But my sister speaks wisely. You would do well to guard your behavior here. Though, our Master may be having a bit too much fun with you."
Akira inches his eyes open, and Igor's grin spreads wider than it has any right. "I confess," the thing says, a hint of humor in his voice, "I indulge far too much. But there are only so many outsiders who come here. This is a dream, as you would understand it, Trickster. Your mind is within my Velvet Room. It is - very much - real."
"I don't suppose you can prove it?" Akira asks and glances at the strange distortion in the air that must be either Caroline or Justine. "No offense."
"There is a way, but it is not open to you yet." Igor shrugs. "The time will come."
Akira shakes his head. "No. No way. I'm done with all of this. We stopped Kamoshida, and we did it cleanly. He didn't die. He confessed his crimes. He turned himself in. There's nothing to..." Akira trails off, and he forces himself to recall the last conversation he had with this thing. "You implied something the last time I was here. Now, maybe you are a dream, and that was really my subconscious voicing concerns I hadn't articulated to my conscious mind yet, or maybe you are real and do know something I don't know."
"You've given this some thought," Igor says.
"Apparently," Akira snaps. "Which is it? I told you there was no way for the police or for anyone else to trace what happened with Kamoshida back to us. You asked if I was certain. What did you mean by that?"
"I am invested in your rehabilitation," Igor replies. "I wanted to know how far you were willing to go, and you answered. Now, I've another question for you. How much do you really know?"
"About?"
Igor's teeth gleam in the dim light. "Everything?"
"The Metaverse?" Akira asks. "Kamoshida? What?" He hears the thrumming pulse of his alarm, jarring him back towards wakefulness. Akira grips the bars. "What is the Metaverse? Why can I carry multiple Personae? If you're real, if this is all real, prove it. Right now!"
"All in due time," Igor replies. "When next we meet, I will bestow upon you a gift, and then you will know if I am truly a sliver of your imagination or something more. Look forward to it. As to your other questions, I direct one back to you." The Velvet Room and its inhabitants begin to fade as Igor's voice rings out once more. "Why can you carry multiple Personae?"