5/17

"His scores?" Kobayakawa asks.

Kawakami is about to answer when she feels a yawn rise within her chest. She forces it down and sucks in her lips to cover the spasm her traitorous mouth attempts to evoke.

"Are you alright?" Kobayakawa asks.

"Mmm-hmmmm," Kawakami manages before the sensation dies away. "Thank you for asking. Yes, well. Akira Kurusu. I looked over the parts of his test that I proctored, and he seems to have done well. No doubt we have Niijima to thank for that."

Kobayakawa grunts. "What of Sakamoto? And Takamaki?"

Kawakami shakes her head. "I don't know about Sakamoto, but Takamaki seems to have done well in English. That's hardly surprising, though."

The door to Kobayakawa's office opens smoothly and silently, but it draws Kawakami's eyes into orbit. Someone stands at the threshold of the Principal's office, eyes narrow, lips in a scowl. The young woman wears a jet-black business suit and holds a shoulder bag in white-knuckled hands.

Whoa, Kawakami thinks. This chick is pissed.

The Principal recovers enough from this invasion to open his mouth and demand, "Just who-"

"Principal Kobayakawa," the woman snaps, just as the secretary squeezes herself into the space behind her, nearly shouting apologies, "My name is Sae Niijima."

Sae Niijima? Like, Makoto Niijima? When Kawakami looks again, she can see the resemblance. Makoto's sister doesn't look like she'd be formidable, but her tone and body language leave no doubt. At times, Makoto Niijima can be docile, but Kawakami has seen her mad several times and did not envy the students subject to her wrath.

"I'm quite busy at the moment," Kobayakawa states, and when Kawakami stares at him, it looks like he's struggling to get the words out. The Principal's face is a shade redder than usual. An impressive feat.

"We will speak now," Sae declares and steps, uninvited, into the office.

"Now, wait just a moment," Kobayakawa spits, standing. "What is the meaning of this? You think you can just come in here and-"

Sae Niijima continues until she stands alongside Kawakami. "I'm here to discuss the blackmail you are committing against my sister."

Say WHHHAAAAAAA- Kawakami feels her eyes wide, and they begin to dart back and forth between the two. The secretary has also gone silent, though whether in response to Sae's suggestion or outrage, Kawakami cannot say. The room is quiet for a long time, but Sae Niijima does not seem discomforted by this.

Kobayakawa's face deepens in color. "Kawakami-sensei, if you wouldn't mind excusing us?" For the secretary, Kobayakawa only waves his hand.

Kawakami opens her mouth to acquiesce, but Sae cuts in. "She can stay. I'd like her input as well." Sae's gaze turns towards Kawakami, and Sadayo feels her blood go cold. "You are Sadayo Kawakami, correct?" Kawakami nods. "Makoto has, on occasion, spoken highly of you."

"Oh," Kawakami replies. "That's, uh, swell."

Swell?

Kobayakawa hurls a glare towards Kawakami. "I'm afraid it would be entirely inappropriate for Kawakami-sensei to be privy to this conversation and-"

"As inappropriate as you holding my sister's letter of recommendation hostage? As inappropriate as you hiring a rapist?"

Kobayakawa shakes his head and slumps back in his seat. Sae remains on her feet, seeming to loom over the man. The Principal glares at Kawakami, who feels rather silly for still just being there. "Don't you have anything else to do, Kawakami-sensei?"

Kawakami recoils but dips her head in an apology. "Of course, sir. I'll be on my way." Kawakami hastily makes her way to the door, but does manage to cast one final look at Sae Niijima. The woman stands there like a pillar, and when she notices Kawakami looking at her, she gives a single, resolute nod.

"Shut the door behind you," Kobayakawa barks.

Kawakami does.

#

Kobayakawa does not get to offer Sae Niijima a seat. Once Kawakami has left, the woman simply sits down across from him, uninvited. Kobayakawa bristles at the rudeness.

Kobayakawa had banked on Makoto Niijima simply doing what he had instructed. But of course, he's heard the name Sae Niijima. Despite everything aligned against her, the Public Prosecutor has made a name for herself in the legal world. "Niijima-san, I assure you that-"

"You are withholding my sister's letter of recommendation until she digs up dirt on another set of students for you," Sae says.

Goddammit! Kobayakawa smiles and forces out a chuckle. "I'm afraid that you are mistaken. I have made no such arrangement with your sister. I merely asked her to look into a situation at Shujin and explained that I would provide the already promised letter of recommendation once the task was complete. I am not, as you put it, holding it hostage. I am certainly not blackmailing anyone."

Sae shakes her head. "Please. I am not some naive parent you can string along. You are withholding your letter of recommendation for my sister, Makoto Niijima, until she figures out how involved Akira Kurusu and others were in Suguru Kamoshida's confession."

Kobayakawa fights down the urge to swallow. "Again, I-"

"Are you aware that Suguru Kamoshida attempted to assault my sister?"

His mind goes blank. "I... what? When?"

Sae leans towards him, and despite himself, Kobayakawa reclines further into his chair. "Does it matter?" She asks. "He attempted to assault my younger sister in this building. In your school."

"K-Kamoshida-sensei's proclivities are-"

"'Proclivities?'" Sae asks. Her hand slaps down onto the hardwood desk, fingers splayed. "You do not seem to grasp what I'm getting at. You will provide my sister with the letter of recommendation. The letter you already promised her—the letter she earned. You will not require her to further probe into the business of her fellow students. If you do not do these two things, I will make life very hard for you."

Kobayakawa has reached his limit, and he stands. "I will not be spoken to like-"

Sae erupts from her chair as well. "You will shut up and do what you're told. Do you expect me to believe you were unaware of a rapist operating on your campus? You were either complicit, or truly were unaware and are therefore incompetent. Which do you think will play better?" Sae's words drip from her mouth like venom. "Do what I tell you, or I will come after you with the entire backing of the Special Investigation Department. We will ruin you. I will ruin you. Do you understand me?"

Kobayakawa's hands shake. "I-I have friends in high-"

"No," Sae replies, her voice cold. "You do not." She straightens and shoulders her bag. "I trust I've made things clear. Stop this sham of an 'investigation' and give my sister her letter of recommendation. If you don't, you will regret it." She turns on her heel and marches out the door. As one final insult, she slams it behind her.

#

Makoto steps out of the Student Council room and joins the throng of students pulsing their way through Shujin's halls. It is almost time for homeroom, and despite everything, Makoto still had work to do as President.

Sae had accompanied her to school, quelling Makoto's fears about arriving at her office later than usual but explaining that such an action would necessitate her staying late for the next few nights. Makoto felt terrible about that, but once Sae set her mind upon something, she did not waver.

Neither did Makoto. When they arrived, Makoto pointed Sae in the direction of the Principal's office, to which her sister replied, "Yes, Makoto. I did attend this school, as you might recall," and marched off without another word. During her time in the Student Council room, Makoto had kept her ears pricked for the sound of incoming sirens, whether an ambulance or police cruiser. You never can tell with Sis.

Still, Makoto knew that Sae's proximity should encourage caution, but she was fed up with that. Makoto makes her way down to the second-year hallway and keeps her eyes peeled for Akira. All-day yesterday, and still no word today. Makoto was not about to let him get off the hook.

It isn't hard to find him. Makoto only has to follow the current of whispers and gossip. Akira has his head lowered, eyes on his phone, and moves towards Kawakami's classroom. "Kurusu," Makoto says, careful not to use his first name around so many other students.

Akira pauses. A few other students glance their way, but Makoto fixes them with a glare, and they move on. When she glances back at Akira, she sees that his eyes have not risen from his phone. Instead, Akira's face is very stiff, and with a small breath, he looks at her.

Makoto finds herself almost taking a step back.

There is no warmth in Akira's eyes. Not even a sense of familiarity. They're just cold.

"Yeah?" He asks, and Makoto could swear he almost sounds bothered by her presence.

Yeah? Makoto's brain shouts. That's all you have to say to me?

Makoto's confusion must be evident on her face. "Could we please talk?"

"Sorry," Akira replies, not sounding sorry at all. "I've got homeroom."

And just like that, Akira makes to move past her.

"Hold on," Makoto snaps, and seizes his arm. Akira stiffens. In an almost whisper, Makoto asks, "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing," Akira mutters. "We done?"

Despite Makoto not wanting to make a scene, one glance around shows she's doing just that. There are more students in the hallway now, and though many have backed off, Makoto catches the little looks they steal towards them.

"We'll talk later," Makoto says, and then, whispering, "Stop avoiding me."

"No," Akira replies, and pulls his arm from her, not ungently. "I don't think-" Akira freezes. Makoto looks at his face and sees his eyes are wide in fear.

Makoto follows his gaze and sees that Sae now stands in the center of the hall. Whatever aura Makoto's sister gives off, the other students pick up on it, and they all promptly beeline for their homerooms.

Sae regards Makoto and Akira in the quickly emptying hallway, arms crossed, a frown on her face.

"U-uh," Akira babbles, his face quickly reddening.

"Hi Sis," Makoto says, louder than necessary, hoping against hope Sae isn't about to do something dreadful. "How'd it go?"

Sae's eyes don't even flicker from Akira. "There should be no further issues."

"Th-that's good," Makoto replies. "Thank you."

"Akira Kurusu," Sae Niijima says, and Akira straightens.

"Yes?"

"Join me outside, won't you?"

Neither Makoto nor Akira says anything for a moment, then the latter stutters out, "W-well, homeroom is starting soon, so-"

"A moment is all I need."

Makoto issues a strangled, "Sis!" under her breath before Sae brushes past her and closes in on Akira.

"I'll see you at home, Makoto," Sae says and gestures for Akira to follow her out to the front steps of Shujin.

Akira glances at Makoto for one tragic moment before he trudges after Sae.

Sae is mad, Makoto thinks. Crazy mad. She'd warned Akira to stay away from Makoto. Plus, she'd told Makoto to stay away from Akira. And here, she had skipped out on her significant job to straighten things out at Makoto's school and discovered the two of them defying her orders. Then again, Makoto thinks. Akira didn't seek me out. He almost seemed like he wanted nothing to do with me. Why was that? Makoto knows she'd pushed Akira with all the questions regarding the Phantom Thieves, but would that really cause Akira to push her away? After all they'd been through in the last month?

Makoto had to find some way to fix this.

But now Akira was at Sae's mercy, and Makoto found herself genuinely wondering if she would ever see the boy she liked again.

#

Akira angles himself towards the steps, prepared to sprint to safety. A few students rush past the two and into Shujin's halls. Sae stands there, waiting for them to pass, issuing them a cold look to hurry them along.

When they are alone, Sae says, "I talked with my sister last night. About you."

If the stairs aren't an option, I could dash back inside. No one would help me, but I know the hallways by now. I could run out to the courtyard and leap over the wall. Akira says, "Okay."

"She told me what you did for her."

Akira's mind runs blank. "What I did for her?"

Sae nods. "She told me she was in a room with Kamoshida, alone. She told me you got her out of that situation."

Akira's hands drift up to his cheeks. He can still remember the gift Kamoshida had given him for that defiance. "I-"

"Thank you." Sae's face deflates. A small smile crosses her lips. It looks nice. "If it were not for you, my sister would have been in tremendous danger. So, thank you." As Akira begins to wonder what he should say in reply, Sae's shoulders slump slightly, and her eyes drop to the ground. "Makoto's still young and sheltered. She doesn't understand how things work. I'm sure she thought she had a good reason to be there, but to put herself in a compromising position like that..." She shakes her head. "She needs to be more careful."

Before Akira realizes what he is doing, he says, "It's not her fault." She was trying to help me. She didn't ask to be taken into that room by that bastard. And even if she had, so what? She still wouldn't have deserved it!

Sae's eyes snap back to his. "I didn't say it was." Sae's shoulders stiffen. She straightens her posture and tilts her head back. Sae looks down at him. "As Kamoshida is now secure, the danger has passed. I recall telling you yesterday, to stay away from my sister. I'm sure she's learned her lesson and no longer needs you to look out for her, if that is what you mistakenly believe you are doing."

"That's-"

"Enough," Sae says, and Akira's mouth slams shut. "I know about your past. And while I am not ungrateful, my sister will not waste any more of her time on you. Do I make myself clear?"

Akira's eyes narrow. "How did you..." but then he remembers. Of course. Sae Niijima is a Public Prosecutor. Finding out about the assault would've been easy for her. I wonder if Makoto bothered to tell her the truth?

"This isn't about you," Sae replies as Akira trails off.

Akira's mask slips. "Yeah, it never is."

"Understand that my sister is someone with a bright future ahead of her. And to successfully get there, she needs to focus. What she does not need to do, is take time away from her studies and her work, and engage with the affections of lost causes."

And there it was.

Akira's jaw works itself through a circle. Finally, after a few circuits, he mutters, "Okay. I understand."

Sae takes a step closer to him. "I don't know if you do, Akira Kurusu. So, get this through your head. Leave my sister alone."

"I get it."

"Good," Sae turns and begins to walk down the steps. "I don't expect we'll have reason to meet again, Kurusu. Goodbye. And thank you, once more."

Akira watches until Sae reaches Shujin's front gate and turns into the street.

Morgana pops his head out from Akira's bag. "Yikes. She's even worse than Makoto." The cat glances up at Akira. "You okay?"

"Fine," Akira replies. "It's not like she's wrong, anyway. Makoto's got a future, and I... well, it doesn't matter."

"Akira, it's-"

"It's fine, Morgana," Akira snaps, then shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Sorry. But I've got to get to homeroom. For now, focus on finding out what's in that file."

"Sure," Morgana replies. "Got it."

#

Makoto's day decays into long, painful, anxiety-ridden moments. They are small and primarily involve Makoto checking the time on her phone or the school's clock. Haru does not come to class, and Sae is gone, so Makoto has no one to speak to.

When the bell rings for lunch, Makoto shoots out of her desk and classroom and heads for Akira's homeroom. When the door to the classroom opens, Makoto peers inside but cannot locate Akira. "He's not in there," comes a voice. Makoto turns, and finds Ann Takamaki glaring at her from where she stands outside the classroom's other door.

"Takamaki, I-" Makoto starts towards the blonde girl.

"He said he wasn't feeling well."

"So, he's with the nurse?" Makoto asks.

Takamaki shrugs. "I dunno." The girl shoulders her bag and starts walking down the hall.

"Hold on," Makoto says, speeding up until she's walking alongside Takamaki.

"Just leave me alone," the girl replies. "I have nothing to say to you."

"What's going on?" Makoto asks. "Why won't Akira talk to me?"

"Does someone need a reason not to talk to you?" Takamaki asks.

Makoto increases her speed by a fraction and whips around in front of Takamaki until she can longer move forward. Makoto stares into Ann Takamaki's eyes. "I know what you did."

Takamaki glances around before replying. It's lunchtime, but there are few students in the halls. "I've got enough rumors flying around about me, thanks. Lay off already."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Makoto steps closer, and to her grim satisfaction, Takamaki takes a hesitant step back. "I know you weren't at the hospital the day Takanashi's heart changed," Makoto whispers, so low even Takamaki has to lean in to hear her. "The photo of you with Suzui wasn't taken on that day. It was taken earlier and sent from your phone, or maybe someone else's phone, I don't know."

"You're nuts," Takamaki replies. "Now, for the last time, get out of-"

"You realize this makes your friend an accomplice, right?"

Takamaki freezes, and a faint look of concern passes over her face. Then, Ann's eyes harden, and she leans in closer to Makoto, who finds herself taking a step back. "Fuck off." And with that, Takamaki breezes past Makoto and down the hall.

Shit, Makoto thinks. I didn't even get to warn her that Suzui was in that file. If the Phantom Thieves wouldn't talk to her, there was a chance she'd have to take more drastic measures.

#

Morgana waits until the after-school rabble has mostly cleared before he pulls the fire alarm. With the halls deserted, it is relatively easy to hide alongside some lockers and avoid the footfalls of the remaining students as they exit the building.

A few seconds pass before Kobayakawa, followed by his secretary, lumbers out of his office and down the hall. "There were no drills scheduled for today," he exclaims, rebuking the secretary as if it were her fault. "Especially at this time!"

When they are out of sight, Morgana darts down the hall to the office, and over to the Principal's door.

"Show you who's skilled," Morgana mumbles, hopping up and grasping the doorknob with his paws. He waits to steady himself, then extends one claw into the lock.

"Child's play," he states as the lock clicks open a few moments later. No one replies as there is no one around, and Morgana once again wishes that someone was here to praise his talents.

Morgana lurches himself off the doorknob, yanking the door open as he does so, and lands awkwardly but with pretend perfection. Then, he's off across the room to the desk and into the Principal's desk.

"No," he says, opening the first drawer, revealing nothing.

"Nope," he says, pulling another to find a bunch of unsharpened pencils and loose stapler cartridges.

"Nada," he mutters on the third drawer, which holds many incredibly dull-looking forms.

"Bingo," on the fourth drawer, revealing an unmarked but familiar file. Morgana reaches in and paws it out, placing it in his mouth until he can climb onto the top of the desk. Akira had advised Morgana not to steal the file, as that would be a dead giveaway (as if Morgana needed to be told something obvious!) and replace it once done.

Morgana has hustled up to this point, as he's unsure how much time he has left and doesn't know what is in the file specifically.

He flips it open and finds Akira's face staring out at him. "Okay, figured as much," Morgana replies, and keeps going.

It doesn't take him long to realize that the file contains no factual information on the Phantom Thieves. Instead, it's nothing but student dossiers.

Nothing about Palaces, the Metaverse, or even one of the many copies of Kamoshida's Calling Card!

"What gives?" Morgana asks, as he turns to find Makoto's student photo. "Huh?" Morgana's mind buzzes as he tries to interpret this. Finally, a possible realization hits him in the face. "Uh oh."

#

"Are you sure about this, Ann?" Her manager asks. The older woman casts a worried glance towards the far end of the room. "This guy seems kind of... weird."

Ann does another spin before the mirror. I really do look great. "I'm sure he's just eccentric. That's what artists are like, right?"

Her manager frowns and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well, I dated an artist back in college. I wouldn't call him eccentric."

"What would you call him?"

"Annoying."

In the corner of the room, before an easel, sits a reed-thin Yusuke Kitagawa. His dark hair slides elegantly to the side of his face, framing soft, gray eyes. One hand rests gently against his cheek, and the other cups his elbow. His uniform is simple and form-fitting, and when Ann stares at him for too long, her mind begins to drift towards the image of a scarecrow hanging in a field.

"Well," Ann says, glancing over at her manager. "I'm sure it'll be-"

Yusuke suddenly launches off his stool, and snatches up a brush from where it sat on the table alongside him. "It is upon me," he cries. "The muse!" He tilts his head forward and gestures to the center of the room with his free hand, where a white and straightforward tatami mat sits. "Let us begin... the channeling."

"Uh," Ann's manager says. "I think that's your cue."

"R-right," Ann replies. What have I gotten myself into?

Ann's kimono is red, ornamented with white lilies. Yusuke Kitagawa had brought it, though Ann has no idea where he'd gotten it. She walks to the center of the mat and looks over at Yusuke. "So, um, where do you want me to go?"

Yusuke does not take his eyes off the blank easel. "Assume whichever position you believe best accents the contours of your beauty to the utmost."

Okay, so that was lewd. But Ann has heard much worse in the world of modeling. She sighs and kneels on the mat, righting herself into a traditional post, head tilted forward demurely and hands resting calmly in her lap. "Is this okay?"

"Indeed," Yusuke says, finally glancing her way. "Now, we shall begin." His hand holding the brush whips out to a small blot of pain upon a wad of paper, twirls, and returns to the canvas.

"So," Ann says. "It sure must be something to apprentice under the great Madarame."

"It is quite the honor," Yusuke replies. "But, apologies, I must ask for complete silence. True art can only be crafted in a vacuum, devoid of the imperfections of the everyday world. You may, of course, ask me whatever you'd like once I've finished."

"Oh, okay," Ann says, frowning. "Sure."

Great. Just great. How long is this supposed to take anyway?

From where she kneels, she watches as Yusuke shifts his hand with the barest of motions, before frowning. "No. No! That's not right," he grumbles. "Must begin again."

Crap...

Time ticks on, and Ann finds herself alone with her thoughts. Alone, because although she shares the room with Yusuke Kitagawa, it's clear he's gone off into his own world. She returns, in her mind, to thoughts of earlier. I hope Morgana has some luck getting access to the Principal's file. Ann had not appreciated being ambushed by Makoto during lunch, though to be fair, she was the one who had initiated contact.

Ann couldn't figure the Student Council President out. On the one hand, she seemed to be into Akira, even if she had punched him in the face that one time. Then again, it seems like he might be into that kind of thing—the perv.

On the other, they knew she was looking into them. Investigating, but why? And why would she even be involved in the first place? If she had figured out all that about the photo of Ann and Shiho, then surely she could piece together a few other things. Akira had said as much, but after lunch, when Ann had warned Akira about what Makoto had said, he hadn't seemed overly concerned. He had, she recalls, said, "That lines up with what she was telling me the other day." Which, okay, sure, great. Except, not really.

Makoto shouldn't have brought up Shiho. She'd been through too much lately, and Makoto's involvement couldn't be more unwelcomed.

I'll have to warn Shiho to be on the lookout for her. Ann had already given Shiho an overview of what the Thieves had learned in the last day. Ann was worried. At first, it seemed like Shiho had nowhere to go but up. However, Shiho had exhibited a new side Ann had never seen in the previous few weeks.

Ann curses herself. Of course I've never seen it! It wasn't there before Kamoshida... did all those things. The man had hurt Shiho in more than one way. And it was becoming clearer by the day that 'recovery' wasn't just a straight line but a zig-zagging Escher painting.

Speaking of painting, Ann thinks, and lets out a sigh, shifting the barest of a fraction on the mat. She's used to holding poses for stretches of time, but for photographs, not paintings. Ann's legs are beginning to cramp. God, did women really sit like this for hours at a time in the old days?

As this thought runs through her mind, Yusuke Kitagawa drops into a heap upon the floor. Ann gasps and straightens up, cringing at the stab of pain in her legs. "Are you alright?" She calls.

“Failure,” Yusuke mumbles from the floor.

“Huh?” Ann asks, approaching.

Yusuke extends a single, empty hand to the sky, grasping at something and moans, "The muse has fled, and my work is a failure. I apologize, Takamaki. Your beauty remains unrealized upon the canvas!"

"Um," Ann says, standing over him. Is this guy for real? "That's fine, I guess."

"Fine?" Yusuke growls, and extends upwards, like a dancer unfolding himself. "It is most certainly not 'fine.' My task was to capture the ascetics of your beauty, but all I managed to achieve was that." He gestures to the canvas, and Ann takes a peek.

She sees a beautiful, half-complete painting of herself, a small smile on her lips, eyes gazing as if looking at something far away. "Wow, this is really good," she says with no exaggeration.

Yusuke shakes his head. "Someone with your sensibilities would say that."

Ann frowns. "Okay, ouch. I think it looks great. Just because you don't doesn't mean you get to be a jerk about it."

Yusuke sighs, and his shoulders slump. "I apologize. My temperament has been abysmal as of late. If Sensei were here, he would've known how to complete this work to its fullest potential."

Ann glances back at him. "Sensei? You mean, Madarame?"

"Indeed," Yusuke says, with a nod, and then looks up at her. "Ah, that's right. You cited interest in Sensei's work, did you not?"

"Totally," Ann says, smiling. "That's the whole reason I took this gig. Would it be okay if I asked you some questions?"

A small grin spreads across Yusuke’s face. “Of course. It is always a delight to discuss the Master’s genius with others.”

Ann blinks. “Uh, right. So, what’s it like apprenticing for him?”

Yusuke frowns. “An interesting question, but I do not believe I can answer adequately. I have been Madarame’s apprentice since I was a child. He raised me as a father would, taught me everything I know about the world of artistic expression, and continues to push me to achieve my dreams of becoming an artist.”

“Oh. So, he’s a good guy?”

Yusuke chuckles. “I wouldn’t use such a colloquial term, but yes. Sensei is a ‘good guy.’”

Ann rolls this information around in her mind. Was Nakanohara just blowing smoke? But we checked Madarame on the app. He has a Palace.

“You said Madarame raised you from when you were a kid,” Ann says, trying a new line of inquiry. “Were you that good of an artist as a child?”

Yusuke’s smile becomes a sad one. “I don’t believe so. Actually, Madarame was an acquaintance of my mother’s. She was an artist as well, under his tutelage. She, unfortunately, was prone to seizures, and died of one when I was three. Sensei took me in and has cared for me ever since.”

“Wow,” Ann says. “Not many people would do that.”

Yusuke nods. “Not many people are as kind as Sensei.”

Ann's mind races. Wait a minute. "Have you ever heard of someone named Natsuhiko Nakanohara?" She asks.

Yusuke purses his lips and is silent for a moment. "No, I don't believe I have. Who is this person?"

"No one, forget I said anything." What the hell? He's never heard of Nakanohara, and he's head over heels for Madarame. I can't just straight up ask him if he's getting plagiarized, can I?

"If I may ask," Yusuke says, suddenly. "As a follower of Madarame, what piece of his enchants you the most?"

Ann breaks out into a big smile. "Oh, gee. There's just so many..." Okay, okay. Think! I researched this. What was that famous one? Right! "But I'd have to say, 'Sayuri,' is my favorite."

Yusuke closes the distance between them, grabs her hands in his own, and then stares into her eyes.

"Hey," she shouts. "What're you-"

"That's my favorite as well," Yusuke declares, energy dripping from his voice. "It inspired me, as a child, to pursue the life of an artist. To create my own 'Sayuri,' is my dream! Tell me, what about 'Sayuri' resonates with you the most?"

"Um," Ann says. "The colors?"

"Yes, yes," Yusuke says, nodding. "The colors Sensei used do indeed elicit an emotional response. Well put!" He releases her hands and takes a few steps away, staring off into space. "He told me the inspiration came to him in a dream one night. He saw a woman looking at something, and the look on her face was so intriguing, so inscrutable, that he had to try and capture it." Yusuke smiles and shakes his head. "If you believe Sensei, he claims that what he created does not actually live up to his dream. Privately, he calls it his 'most popular failure.'"

“It’s too bad it got stolen,” Ann says.

Yusuke nods. “Tragic indeed. A loss not just for Sensei, but the world at large. To deprive everyone of original beauty like that is a crime like no other.”

We're getting sidetracked here. Got to get back to what's important. “So,” Ann asks, trailing a finger through her hair. “Have you ever worked on a piece with Madarame?”

“Of course. Sensei’s tutelage is instrumental in my work. He oversees everything I undertake.”

“Oh, cool,” Ann says. “Has any of it ever been shown to the public? I’d love to see something you’ve completed.”

Something passes over Yusuke’s face. Or rather, his smile, his eyes, and every part of him freezes. It only lasts a second, but it’s long enough. “N-no,” Yusuke replies. “I’m afraid my work has yet to see the light of day. One day, when Madarame deems me ready, I shall unveil it upon the world.”

What was that? Ann doesn't say anything for a moment. It's like when Akira lies, and his face does that little twitchy thing. Yusuke was fine up until I asked him that last question.

If Madarame was plagiarizing Yusuke Kitagawa’s work, it stood to reason that he would know about it. Madarame was a prominent artist, and any exhibit he held drew widespread notice. So, if he had used a painting of Yusuke’s, the kid would’ve found out almost immediately. But to hear Yusuke tell it, Madarame was a wonderful and kind teacher. What the hell is going on?

#

Makoto stands outside the door. She stares at it, hands clenched around the straps of her bag.

This isn't a good idea. This is pushing it. Makoto shakes her head clear.

Makoto bites her lower lip. Just do it! If she wanted to learn the truth, she had to do things that made her uncomfortable. Akira was nowhere to be found, and the other Thieves wouldn't talk to her. Shiho Suzui was one of the last remaining threads Makoto could pull.

Makoto steels herself, knocks, and opens the door.

The lack of light stuns her. The curtains hang over the window and muffle the sun.

A figure stirs across the room, and Makoto sees the head of a shadow turn towards her. "Ann?" Comes a soft voice.

"Um," Makoto says, and steps closer.

Shiho Suzui blinks up at her. Her skin is pale, and she looks much thinner than Makoto remembers. It is her hair that upsets her the most. Suzui's is matted and sticky and absent the personality of her sideways ponytail.

For a moment, the memory of Suzui’s broken body in the middle of the courtyard, and Akira's harsh words from a few weeks ago, paralyze Makoto.

I saw you, the day Shiho jumped. I saw you on the edge of the crowd, standing there, doing nothing.

"Hi, Suzui," Makoto manages in a weak voice.

The girl continues to stare up at her, and then she tilts her face down towards the blankets on her lap. "Hello, Niijima-senpai." The voice is distant, cold. "My mother told me you called."

"May I sit?" Makoto asks, gesturing to one of the chairs alongside the bed.

Suzui shrugs. "Why are you here?"

Makoto nods, and moves for the chair before realizing she's not sure if Suzui's shrug warranted permission. "Oh," she says, realizing Suzui asked her a question. "Oh, I um," and Makoto reaches into her bag, withdrawing a few notebooks filled with handouts and assignments. "I wanted to bring you this. It's the schoolwork you've missed."

Suzui stares at the binder as though it's a foreign object. Then, she scoffs. "Are you joking?"

"Well... no," Makoto says, not sure what else to say. "I didn't want you to fall behind. So I thought I'd go around to your teachers and collect-"

Suzui's hands ball into fists. "You didn't want me to fall behind?" Suzui asks.

Poor choice of words, Makoto realizes and mentally kicks herself. "No, that's not what I meant. I didn't mean about the-"

"Huh?" Suzui looks up at her, then shakes her head. "Oh. That. That's not what I'm talking about."

"You're not coming back for a long time, correct? Surely you want to keep up to date on your studies?"

Suzui reaches out a hand for the binder. Makoto, feeling relieved, hands it over to her. "Thanks," Suzui mutters. Then, she promptly tosses the binder into the corner of the room, where it slams into the tiled floor and lays still. "I'll be sure to look later."

"Right. Good," Makoto says, feeling a sheen of sweat form on her head. "Good."

"Why are you really here, Niijima-senpai?" Suzui's words are harsher now.

"I just wanted to check up on you, and-"

"Liar," Suzui snarls.

Makoto doesn't realize she's gasped until the sound seems to hang in the room for a moment longer than possible.

Shiho Suzui glares at her. Her head is tilted forward, and strands of black hair obscure her face, but Makoto can see her lower jaw working at a furious pace, chittering and chapped and scabbed. Her eyes stare out from beneath that cowl, white with anger, pupils dilated.

Makoto takes a step back. "I'm the Student Council President," Makoto manages. "It's my responsibility to-"

"You don't care," Suzui whispers. "You never cared. You're a liar. I hate liars. Liars keep pretending nothing's wrong." Her words come faster now, her breath more ragged. "Liars don't tell the truth, even when asked. Liars keep telling you that everything will be fine. Liars act like they care, but they don't. Liars won't do anything until it's safe." Suzui's hands are shaking. "You don't want me to fall behind? Now you care?"

Makoto knows nothing can happen here. She knows Shiho Suzui is weak and can't move much due to her injuries. Makoto knows this, but beneath the girl's glare, Makoto doesn't feel safe.

"Alright," Makoto says, raising her hands. "I'm sorry. But you need to know something. I know you know about the Phantom Thieves. You need to-"

"Get out of here," Suzui says, barely above a whisper. Makoto doesn't move. "Get out of here." This, a bit louder.

"Listen, please," Makoto says. "Akira won't talk to me. The Principal asked me to investigate and-"

"Get out of here," Suzui says. "Get out of here! Get out of here!"

"Okay," Makoto says, backing up. What did I just do? Why did I do this? "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Suzui."

"Get out of here!" Suzui screams. "Get out of here! GET OUT OF HERE! GET OUT OF HERE!"

Suzui doesn't writhe in bed. She doesn't do anything. She sits perfectly still as she screams at Makoto, which terrifies Makoto more than anything else.

When Makoto reaches the door, it opens from the outside, and a nurse rushes in. "What's going on?" She asks Makoto, and turns to Suzui as the girl continues her terrible chant.

"GET OUT OF HERE! GET OUT OF HERE!"

The nurse looks back at Makoto. "What did you do?"

Makoto runs out the door and down the hall. She dashes onto the elevator, blessedly alone, wraps her arms around herself, and begins to shake. She thinks she is about to cry, but no tears come. She just stands there, trembling, as the elevator slowly makes its way down to the ground floor.

Then, the door opens, and Makoto steps out into the lobby, and leaves the hospital.

#

They stand in a huddle outside Room 345.

“I’m confused,” Ryuji says, hands shoved into his pockets. “Why is he here, again?”

Yusuke Kitagawa blinks. “I could ask the same of you, you uncouth youth.”

“What’d you say?” Ryuji growls. He takes a threatening step forward.

Ann smacks him on the shoulder. “Knock it off, Ryuji. I was with Yusuke when Shiho called. I was so freaked out that he offered to come with me.”

Ryuji crosses his arms. “Yeah, well, he should watch what he says.”

“You don’t even know what ‘uncouth’ means,” Ann blurts.

“It doesn’t sound good!”

“Indeed, it is not,” Yusuke replies.

“See?”

“Hey!” Akira snaps. “Enough already.” Morgana squirms in his bag. Ryuji, Akira and Morgana had been reviewing what the latter had learned from Kobayakawa’s office when Ann had called. The request had been hasty, and Akira hadn’t had time to ask questions. He knew something had happened with Shiho and Makoto, and Ann wanted everyone to meet her at the hospital. “How’s Shiho?”

Ann grits her teeth. “Not good. That bitch really rattled her.”

Yusuke frowns. “I fail to see how a visit from the Student Council President could elicit such an extreme reaction. Is Suzui, perhaps, a problem student?”

“Hell no,” Ryuji replies, and turns to Ann. “How much did you tell him?”

“Not much,” Ann says. “Look, Yusuke. Shiho’s my best friend. She had… an accident a few weeks ago and has been here ever since. Niijima thought she could roll in here and harass her.”

Yusuke shakes his head. “How reprehensible.”

“You got that right,” Ann says.

“Hold on,” Akira says. “Is that what she was doing here?”

Ann glares up at him. “What else would she be here for Akira? You know what she was asking about, don’t you?”

Akira glances at Yusuke, then sighs. “Morgana got a look at the file, Ann. I think we should talk.”

“It might not be what we thought,” Ryuji puts in.

“Who is this ‘Morgana?’” Yusuke asks.

Ann sighs. “Look, Yusuke, I appreciate you coming, but would you mind if we spoke in private?”

“Not at all,” Yusuke says, and takes a step away. “I saw a vending machine in the waiting room. I will stare at it while you discuss.”

“Eh?” Ryuji asks, as the lanky boy walks away. “That dude is weird. Why’s he staring at a vending machine?”

"Does that matter?" Ann demands.

Morgana pops his head out of Akira's bag. "Lady Ann, listen. I found the file. The one the Principal showed Makoto. Shiho was in the file, but so was Makoto. And it wasn't just us. There were other students in it. Most are volleyball players. Everyone Kamoshida victimized."

Ann crosses her arms. "When Shiho calmed down, she told me a few things. Niijima tried to tell her something about the Principal before... well, she mentioned it."

"I don't get this shit, man," Ryuji whispers. "If Makoto was in the file, why'd she agree to investigate us? If she was trying to warn Shiho, why didn't she come to us and-"

"She did," Akira says. "She tried to speak to me this morning. Plus, her older sister was at Shujin earlier. Makoto asked if she handled everything, and her sister said yes. What if Makoto was forced to look into us? And not just us, but everyone in that file? What if agreeing to investigate - what Morgana saw and heard - was her only way to get away from the Principal?" Akira looks at the others. "None of this makes sense. Why would Makoto bring all this up to me during our date if she didn't agree to investigate us until yesterday? We don't know the full story. We can-"

"Stop," Ann says.

Akira stops.

Ann sighs. "Even if that's true, so what?" Ann gestures her head back towards the door to Shiho's room. "Do you realize what Niijima just did to her? She crossed a line."

"But if-" Akira starts.

Ryuji clears his throat. "I gotta agree with Ann on this one, dude." Akira looks at him, and Ryuji's face reddens, but he shrugs. "What? Pushing a girl in a hospital bed? That's messed up, man."

"I realize that," Akira says. "But we should clear up whatever-"

"Shiho was raped and traumatized Akira. And Niijima just came here and harassed her. Are you seriously so love-struck that you don't see how bad that is? You say, 'I realize that,' but do you?" She takes a step toward Akira, glaring at him. Akira holds his ground but has to fight very hard not to back up a pace. "I joined you guys to bring Kamoshida to justice, and I believe in what we're doing. But if this is what being a Phantom Thief is now, I'll walk away. Because Shiho needs me."

"Lady Ann," Morgana protests. "You can't mean that."

"Yeah, hold up, Ann," Ryuji says.

"I do mean it," Ann says. "Besides, it's not as if you ever intended on bringing me onboard in the first place? Right, Akira? You weren't going to tell me about-"

"You're bringing that up now?" Akira snaps. "Do you want to settle on a plan, or do you want to just punish me for shit I already apologized for?"

"Guys," Ryuji says, stepping between the two. "Chill. We're on the same team, remember?"

"I used to think that," Ann says. "But here we are, with Akira trying to make excuses for Niijima and-"

"Fine," Akira nearly shouts. "You've made your point."

Ann sighs, but her face remains firm. "Well then, Leader, tell me what you think we should do. And think carefully."

#

Yusuke returns to the atelier, slinks his way through its dilapidated halls, and drops into the sole chair in his room. What an utterly depressing day.

There's a knock on his door.

Yusuke pushes himself to his feet. "Come in, Sensei."

The door slides open, and Madarame steps inside, brows furrowed in concern. "Ah, Yusuke. Thank goodness you're alright. The school called and told me you had dashed off campus in a rush. Is everything alright?"

Yusuke shakes his head at his foolishness. "Oh, I'm very sorry I didn't call, Sensei. I got so caught up in events that it never crossed my mind."

Madarame smiles and waves the comment away. "Please, it's perfectly fine. I'm just glad you're okay. But what happened?"

Yusuke sits back down and recounts the events of the day. "Takamaki was so upset that I offered to help her get to the hospital."

Madarame beams. "That was a very considerate thing to do, Yusuke. I hope the poor girl is alright?"

Yusuke shrugs. "I can't say with certainty. She was reluctant to specify how her friend got to the hospital, but I gathered it was an unpleasant topic."

"These things often are," Madarame replies. "Might I ask how the painting is coming along?"

The air feels like it seeps from Yusuke's body. "I'm sorry, Sensei. It was a failure. Takamaki is beautiful, but I could not convey it to the canvas."

Madarame chuckles. "How often must I tell you this, my boy? Failure is a far more valuable teacher than success. Do you recall every stroke you made upon the parchment?" Yusuke nods. "Do you know what you did wrong?"

"I believe so."

"Then, you must commit the lesson to memory and take it upon yourself to do better next time."

Yusuke takes a deep breath, and a bit of the tension leaves him. "You are right, of course." Then, he remembers. "I hope you don't mind, Sensei, but I invited Takamaki and her friends to your gallery this coming week. She seemed quite taken with your work. She mentioned the 'Sayuri.'"

"Well, of course it's alright," Madarame says and pats Yusuke on the shoulder. "It is always refreshing to find young people interested in art. Too often, it feels like the realm of old men like me. When they arrive, please, introduce them to me."

Yusuke smiles. "I will, Sensei. Thank you."

Madarame nods and moves to leave. "Well, I'll leave you to it, Yusuke. I'm sure you've some work you still wish to do."

"Indeed," Yusuke says, and glances at the assortment of brushes and paint tubes shoved into the corner. "Um, Sensei?"

"Yes?" Madarame asks.

"Well, I did not foresee my trip to the hospital today. Takamaki was in such a panic that we rushed the whole way there. It was... taxing. I know I failed in my task of completing the portrait today, but I wonder if I still might have some dinner?"

Madarame's smile doesn't shift. "Yusuke, my boy. We've talked about this. Hunger. Pain. Absence. It is through these avenues that the muse enters and possesses us. To surrender to ease is to abandon our hope of understanding what truly makes art, art. So you may have your allotted meal tomorrow morning and not before."

Yusuke sighs and stands, smiling. "Of course, Sensei. Forgive me for such a foolish question."

Madarame shakes his head. "There's nothing to forgive. That is why I am here, to guide you on the artist's path."

Yusuke nods. "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it. Goodnight, my boy."

Madarame slides the door shut.