Life is a very terrible thing, mostly, with points of wonder and beauty. Most of what makes it terrible, though, is simply that there's so much of it, blaring in through the five senses.

- Samuel R. Delany, Dhalgren

Exit Interview III.

Something within Akira slides, and though he knows whatever it is can't have moved more than a fraction of anything, he stiffens in anticipation of some rupture, tear, some leakage. The pain is bad too.

Sae slides a photo across the table, oblivious to Akira's hurt. The picture captures the sprawled-out, robed body of Madarame. God, he thinks. We're only at Madarame. There was no chance Akira could grit his way through the entire tale.

Arsene's wings unfurl in the corner behind Sae.

What I wouldn't give for a Dia. Or some of Plague's medicine.

Sae speaks, and Akira yanks his attention back to the present. "I'm sorry?"

"Daiki Aoe," Sae states.

Akira nods. "Innocent. And you know why."

"I believe I do. Daiki Aoe did not act of his own accord. Am I wrong?"

"You're not wrong."

"Then do I take that as an admission?"

Akira grins. "Do you really want me to walk into that? Don't you want to hear the rest of the story?"

"Daiki Aoe's murder of Ichiryusai Madarame is considered the first instance of the Phantom Thieves-"

"Yeah, I know," Akira interrupts. "I've read the rumors.”

“You can’t tell her she’s being played,” his father whispers. “People like her don’t want that pointed out to them. She needs to reach it on her own.”

Sae stares at Akira, considering. “Kamoshida,” she says. “Madarame.” She leans forward. “Your next target-”

Akira turns his palm up on the table. Sae stops. “First. We need to go over what happened in between.”

5/31

Yusuke stares at the curry. Smoke no longer curls off the food. The television whispers in the background, but he cannot focus on it.

He will never admit this to anyone, but Yusuke is quite proud of his hair. He does his best to maintain its sleek shine and volume. He does this, because a long time ago, Madarame had said - in passing - that Yusuke had hair similar to his mother's. He cannot remember the context of the conversation.

Now, however, Yusuke's hair hangs loose in his face. Strands slide through his vision. This is fine. Yusuke does not want to face the world today.

"That's gonna get cold if it hasn't already."

Yusuke lifts his gaze. Sojiro stands further down the bar, his back to him. The older man writes the day's specials on a small blackboard that hangs at eye level.

"My apologies," Yusuke mutters.

Sojiro shrugs. "It's no skin off my back, but it's not as good cold."

Yusuke does not know what to say. For the last few days, Akira has acted as a buffer between himself and 'Boss.' Though Yusuke has no reason to suspect the man harbors any ill feelings toward him, he is at a loss for communicating.

Akira is at school.

Morgana had offered to stay behind, but Yusuke had insisted on solitude. There was enough to process without interference.

Madarame was dead. Stabbed.

The others had all looked at him, their expressions a mix of apprehension, confusion, and curiosity. How will he react? They all seemed to wonder.

Yusuke said little.

Despite his dropped expulsion, he'd opted to stay out of school an extra day.

Akira seemed to understand Yusuke's desire to be by his lonesome.

Now, Yusuke sits with Sojiro.

"I would like to apologize," he mumbles. "For the great imposition I must be. Rest assured, I will be gone tomorrow."

"Finally got that dorm situation resolved?" Sojiro asks. He finishes scratching out the specials, steps back, and nods.

"Ah. Yes. I’ve adequately untangled the mess."

"That's good."

"Indeed." Yusuke is not hungry, though he knows he has every right to be. He scoops up a spoonful and brings it to his mouth. It is still so good.

Sojiro turns and walks the length of the bar, towards the kitchen.

"Thank you," Yusuke says, as he passes. "For allowing me to stay here." Sojiro pauses and glances back. "My situation was dire."

Boss' eyes linger on him, and his face forms a frown. "You're one of those kids, aren't you?"

Yusuke blinks. "Kids?"

"The ones that Madarame guy stole from."

"You're... aware of that?"

He rolls his eyes. "It's been all over the news. I can put two and two together."

Yusuke clears his throat. Does he know about the Sayuri? It's right upstairs. "You are quite perceptive." He nods. "But, you are correct. I am one of Madarame's apprentices. Or, rather, I was one."

Sojiro's gaze flicks toward the TV. "So, are you okay?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The guy, Madarame. He's dead, right?" Sojiro shrugs. "But, then again, he was a real bastard, wasn't he?"

Yusuke feels himself bristle at the words, but only for a moment. He nods once more. "He was. He truly was."

And yet...

"And yet," Yusuke says. "I cannot help but wish he were still alive. It angers me to say it because his greed rampaged unchecked and seemed infinite. He betrayed me. He betrayed my mother. He betrayed so many people."

When Yusuke looks up at Sojiro, he knows tears run down his face, but he doesn't care.

"But now he's gone, and I feel... I feel so sad. Why? He was a criminal of the highest caliber. He robbed me again and again. He never fed me. But when I think about our last exchange of words, I wish things had gone differently.

"Part of me, a not insubstantial part, wishes I knew none of it. That I had continued in ignorance, oblivious to his abuse and crimes. Because, even in the lie, I was happy, and I can't accept that a part of him wasn't happy either, even as he juggled all the sins." The words tumble from him faster than he's used to. "What does that say about me? What does it say about me that a part of me wishes for that? That I wish he were here now, eating this food with me? Smiling? Happy? Content? What does it mean that I want that?"

Sojiro shrugs. "I dunno."

Yusuke blinks, and some of the mist in his vision clears. "Oh." He wipes a sleeve across his face. "I was under the impression you'd have something more insightful to say."

Sojiro purses his lips. "Do I look like an insightful guy?"

He nods. "Quite. I believe it is the goatee and glasses."

Sojiro releases a deep chuckle. "I'll keep the look then." He steps forward and reaches for the plate. "Let me make you something fresh. Like I said, it's better hot."

"It's good regardless," Yusuke counters, but he lets Sojiro take the plate.

#

When school ends, the Phantom Thieves file into LeBlanc. Yusuke meets them in Akira's room, idly doodling in a sketchbook. Ann is quick to offer additional condolences, and Yusuke graciously accepts.

A silence stretches. They'd all been together when the news of Madarame's murder had crashed through the internet. It shocked not only Yusuke but all the Thieves. While his temporary roommate had lost his surrogate father, Akira had been more interested in the perpetrator. Much later in the evening, after Yusuke had drifted off to sleep, the killer's name had been released.

Daiki Aoe. A former apprentice of Madarame. Per various sources, years of the young man's life lay victim to drugs. Clear cut. Simple.

Something about it bothered him. Despite spending long enough reading article after article to make his eyes hurt, Akira could not pinpoint the issue.

Sleep offered little save for a strange dream in which he stood in a desert and heard a familiar voice calling his name.

It wasn't until Akira entered Shujin the following day and found the Student Body - for once - wholly unconcerned with him and, thus, willing to speak at ample volume within his earshot that it struck him.

"Think the Phantom Thieves did it?" This from a first-year Akira did not recognize, only one-quarter whispering to his friends. Akira's legs froze, and he stood still in the hall, but if anyone noticed or cared, Akira missed them.

The first year's friends didn't seem to think so, but Akira could already imagine the damage.

A few of the voices in his mind suggested he was catastrophizing. Akira doubted that.

He only heard a similar suggestion one other time in the halls during the school day. But one glance at RINE showed the notion decently prevalent among the conversations surrounding Madarame.

In the silence of his room, Akira drags his phone from his pocket. "Has anyone been reading the RINE messages?"

Ryuji nods. "I have." He withdraws and fiddles with his phone. "Man, they're still going."

"What'd you expect?" Morgana asks. "We made our move to the big time."

Now that the topic has turned that way, Akira queues up RINE, and the messages stream across his screen at the same pace as that morning.

ADIOS MADARAME (GO GO PHANTOM THIEVES)

PTs ROCK

How come they haven’t taken my Req yet?! WTF

(Don’t see what the big deal is)

My phone sounds like it's about to explode could you all SHUT UP PLEASE

(TURN IT OFF THEN DUMBASS)

Think they got the guy to kill the other guy?

lol oh cool a conspiracy theory

don’t be dumb why would they? They already won

Madarame’s art was ass anyway

"It kind of makes me uncomfortable," Ann mutters. She places her phone down on the table between them, then immediately picks it up again. " I'm glad people are talking about us, but I don't know, it's kinda freaky."

"Sure," Morgana says. "But think of it like this: every time one of those messages floats out into the world, we become increasingly embedded into the public's conscious and subconscious. That means we can travel deeper into Mementos."

"But doesn't context matter?" Akira asks. The others turn to regard him. "I understand that the more people acknowledge us, the deeper we can go. Shouldn't we care, though, about how they perceive us?"

"We stopped Madarame," Ryuji points out. "I'd say people think pretty highly of us, right?"

Neither Ann nor Yusuke seem to share Ryuji's enthusiasm. "I'm worried about some of these messages," Akira says, raising his phone to indicate the RINE chats.

"The ones where they think we had something to do with Madarame's death?" Ann asks, casting a furtive glance at Yusuke as she says the last two words.

"C'mon," Ryuji groans. "No one seriously believes that. How would we even do that?"

Yusuke straightens in his seat, arms crossed. "Similarly to how no one seriously believes we can steal hearts?"

"It's the timing," Akira continues. "If Daiki Aoe had killed Madarame a few days later, no one would probably make the connection. But this happened immediately after the confession. The confession we triggered."

Ryuji's expression darkens. "You sayin' people are gonna really think we did this?"

"I heard a few students at school suggest it," Ann says, and Akira nods in confirmation. "No one seemed to listen to them, but isn't that how rumors start?"

"But Madarame didn't die under mysterious circumstances," Morgana insists, seemingly unaware he'd chosen to side with Ryuji during this conversation. "A completely different person killed him. It didn't have anything to do with us."

"Yeah," Ryuji says.

"We know that," Akira replies.

"And we are the only ones who know how we steal hearts," Yusuke continues. "No one else knows how we triggered Madarame's confession. Such is our mystique. Who's to say we could not also induce another to attack him?"

"But why?" Ryuji asks at the same time Morgana asks, "Why, though?"

Akira shrugs. "Who knows? Maybe Madarame had some dirt on us or knew our identities? Maybe we wanted to shut him up after his confession? No one knows. It's all speculative. But that could be enough."

"So, what?" Morgana asks. "We get Madarame to confess and then decide to kill him right after? We'd already gotten what we wanted."

"No, Akira's right," Ann says. "We're the only ones who know the full story. As far as everyone else is concerned, the Phantom Thieves might as well be magic. Who knows what we're capable of, and who knows why we do the things we do?"

Ryuji mutters, "I mean, we kinda are magic."

"We cannot control the minds of the populace," Yusuke says. "Therefore, we cannot dictate how they perceive us." He frowns a bit and takes a deep breath. "As much as this series of events has shaken me, must we chalk it up to more than horrific timing? You said so yourself, Akira. Had Aoe taken Sensei's life a few days later, little connection would be made between ourselves and the death. From my perspective, there is little we can do than to continue holding ourselves to a high standard. I am not clear on how we could safeguard our targets post-confession from every broken person who wishes to revenge themselves upon them."

"Yeah, what he said," Ryuji says.

"We could release a statement saying we had nothing to do with Madarame's death," Morgana says, but before Akira can counter, he continues, "But that would only make people talk more."

Ann nods. "That'd probably convince people we did do it."

"Then there's nothing we can do about it," Morgana says, lifting his paws into a shrug. "Save for what Yusuke said. Keep changing hearts. It isn't as if everyone we target ends up dead. Kamoshida, Nakanohara, and Takanashi are all still around."

Ryuji raises his hand. "If we're picking targets, I've got a few ideas." Then, without waiting for any response, he states, "The bullying ring at Shujin Daisuke's Shadow told us about, and the coach of the new track team, Yamaguichi-sensei."

Akira's thoughts still linger on Madarame's death, but Ryuji's suggestion draws him into the current conversation thread.

"We just established ourselves outside of Shujin Academy," Morgana protests. "And now you want to go back and pull two jobs?"

Ryuji frowns. "So, what? We can't ever help someone at Shujin again? What if one of those kids Madarame starved got settled into another abusive house, and made a Request? Would we ignore him because we already handled Madarame?"

"That's a bit different," Akira says, and holds up a hand when Ryuji opens his mouth. "Besides, has anyone made any Requests on the bullying ring? Or on Yamaguichi-sensei?"

Ryuji's face blanks for a moment. "Well, no. I don't remember Mishima mentionin' any. But what if there was?"

"We'd deal with it then," Akira says, trying to cut that line of questioning short. "And I think we should consider our momentum, no? Madarame was a big target. A track coach isn't in the same league."

"Oh," Ann says, and raises her hand as well.

"You guys don't have to raise your hands," Akira says. "This isn't school."

"I've heard some rumors lately," Ann says, lowering her hand. "About a manager within the fashion industry. He's been preying on some of the models that work for him."

Ryuji crosses his arms. "I don't remember Mishima mentioning that one either."

Akira glances from Ryuji to Ann. "This guy, did anyone make a Request?"

Ann shakes her head. "It's just something I heard."

Akira considers. "It sounds like a good opportunity. But how would we have heard about it if there's no Request?"

Yusuke raises his hand.

"Guys," Akira says. "I told you, you don't have to... never mind, what's up, Yusuke?"

Yusuke lowers his hand and says, "If our current crop of Requests is limited, and we are looking for someone with a Palace, could we not send Morgana to find one?"

"Huh?" Morgana asks.

"What'd you mean, dude?" Ryuji asks, straightening in his chair.

Yusuke shrugs. "Morgana can sense Palaces, can he not? Much like how you discerned Madarame's, couldn't we wander around until we found a Palace?"

"We'd still need to know who it belongs to," Akira says, then turns to Morgana. "Right? It'd be like working backward."

"Yeah," Morgana replies, and nods. "I can sense Palaces, but I don't know who they belong to or what they look like until I enter the Metaverse. And even that ability wasn't much help with Madarame."

"But you could still locate them, yes?" Yusuke asks. "And those with Palaces are those with desires that have run amok? As Akira suggests, if we were to work backward, we would certainly have a wide range of targets."

"Well, yes, but..."

"Oh boy," Ryuji mutters. "Trailing off is never good."

"Quiet, Bonehead," Morgana snaps.

Ryuji raises his hands in defense as Ann goes to swat him, but she gives up and turns to Morgana. "But, what, Morgana?"

Morgana sighs. "You guys realize this is Tokyo, right?"

"I believe we are all aware of this," Yusuke replies.

"And this is the most populous city in the world."

"Tokyo's crowded," Ryuji says. "What's your point?"

Akira sits back in his chair and whistles. "Wow. Okay. How many do you think there are, Morgana?"

"A lot," Morgana replies. "As in, a lot a lot."

"A lot of what?" Ryuji asks, then his eyes widen. "Palaces?"

"Tokyo is swamped with them," Morgana says. "It's not bad here, in Yongen-jaya, but whenever we head to Shujin or someplace else, I can sense them. They litter Shibuya. Plus, there's the presence of Mementos, humanity's Palace, so that's always in the back of my mind."

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

"You picked Kamoshida's at random, right?" Akira asks.

Morgana nods. "And I didn't even know it was Kamoshida's at first. It was easy to infiltrate, but if I'd picked Madarame's first, I don't know what I would've done. There are a ton of Palaces in Shibuya and plenty in some of the other districts too. Even when we went down to the Bay to sneak into Natsuki Storage, I felt two or three in the area, outside of Madarame's."

"Oh man," Ann whispers. "Morgana, are you okay?"

"Huh?" Morgana asks.

"Like, isn't that a lot to have in your head all the time?" Ann looks genuinely worried.

"I guess so, but I'm used to it by now. It's not like there's a big alarm going off in my brain that screams 'PALACE' whenever we walk past one. It's just a sensation."

Akira taps his desk with his fingernails, considering. "Let's keep that in our back pocket. I think it'd be better to stick with existing Requests for now. Any objections?"

Ryuji folds his arms and frowns, but says nothing.

The conversation turns to the current list of Requests, but no one seems enthusiastic about any. Akira considers Morgana's ability once more. There's no reason we couldn't do it that way. We could work backward too. We could stage everything depending on who we wanted to target.

And if they could choose their 'Requests' any way they wanted, it stood to reason they could operate differently.

Could we send a Calling Card without leaving a trace?

The conversation shifts to the newfound fame of the Phantom Thieves, as Ryuji queues up an article written in a major metropolitan newspaper.

Another box, Akira thinks, and blinks. From where had that thought come?

He'd been acclimating to his role as leader of the Phantom Thieves, or so he thought.

Unclear on how to proceed, the meeting soon wraps up. "Let's get going," Ryuji says, and pats Yusuke on the shoulder. "Last checkup for a while. Hope it's a good one."

"Quite," Yusuke replies, and the two head for the stairs. Morgana trots after them.

"Hey," Ann whispers, and Akira turns around. The others descend the stairs, and Ann says, "You said we'd talk after Madarame."

Akira considers his response. "You're right. I did."

"So, can we?"

"What? Now?" Akira asks, and immediately regrets it.

Ann's brows furrow. "You're just taking Yusuke to Plague's, right? Any reason Ryuji can't do that on his own?"

Akira raises his hands, palms out. "I'm sorry. You're right. I did say we'd talk. But can we not right now?" Akira can think of no other way of putting this. At the look on Ann's face, he quickly adds, "Soon. Please. Madarame's murder wrenches things, and I've had a lot on my mind."

"Alright," Ann mutters, making it sound anything but. "You're serious about this, right?"

A germ of rage seizes Akira's mind, and he almost snaps, I wish you'd stop questioning every single thing I say, but he controls himself enough to manage, "I am."

#

Akira's hand touches the doorknob, and the vibrations travel up his arm. He cracks the door open, and the music shrieks. Ryuji clamps hands over his ears. Yusuke stiffens. Akira rushes inside, braced against the onslaught, and enters Takemi's waiting area.

Plague sits at the check-in window, index finger swiping across her phone. When Akira slaps his hands down on the divider, she looks up and clicks the remote to kill the rock.

Staggered by the silence, Akira only sees Takemi's lips move. "Huh?" He asks.

"I've been texting you," Takemi says, her voice still faint.

"School," Akira says, and rubs his ears. "I had school."

Ryuji and Yusuke enter, flanking Akira on either side. Takemi's brows crease, and her eyes flick from one boy to the next, unsure of to whom her glare should subject.

Settling on Akira, she asks, "What happened?"

Akira guesses the context, but Yusuke whispers to Ryuji, "Do you think she refers to Madarame?"

Takemi rises from her chair, steps forward, and opens her mouth, then seems to remember the wall between her and the others. Her mouth closes slowly, and with her lips pushed together, Takemi works her jaw in a circular stretch. She jerks her head to the left. "Come on."

The Thieves file out of the waiting room and follow Takemi into one of the exam rooms. She shuts the door after Yusuke, the last, enters.

"You changed his heart?" Takemi asks. "Madarame's?"

Akira nods. Ryuji says, "Yeah."

Some tension around Takemi's eyes lifts when she looks at Yusuke. "My condolences. I know he meant something to you."

"Once," Yusuke says, then his face scrunches up, and he says, "But I thank you all the same."

"But whether any of us like it or not," Takemi continues as if Yusuke remained silent. "I'm an accomplice. Am I an accessory to murder?"

Ryuji sighs and drops into one of the room's chairs. "Shit, man."

Yusuke says, "Do you-" but stops as Akira clears his throat.

"No," Akira says. "You're not."

"What a relief," Takemi replies, frowning. She crosses her arms. "What happened to Madarame, then? Is that story accurate?"

"As far as we know," Yusuke says. "Though, as we discussed before our arrival, the timing could not have been worse."

"Did you seriously think we might've had something to do with it?" Ryuji asks, glaring at Takemi.

"We're dealing with a science none of us understands," Takemi says, meeting Ryuji's gaze with her own. She points at Akira. "You’ve said the rules don't make any sense. So how am I supposed to know what you are and aren't capable of?"

"We didn't do it," Akira says. "We got Madarame to confess. That's all. But there have already been some rumors at Shujin that we might've caused his death."

Takemi nods. "There are some sites out there speculating as much too. I hate how cliché I sound around you kids, but I've got a bad feeling about it."

"We do too," Akira replies.

Ryuji shakes his head, then straightens in his chair, scowling. "This is bullshit. How can people think we-"

"Take it easy," Takemi says, but Akira nods and pats his friend on the shoulder. "I know," Akira says. "It is bullshit. But there's nothing we can do about it for now." He motions towards the door. "Let's let Yusuke get his checkup."

"Yeah," Ryuji mutters, standing. "Sorry, Doc."

Takemi opens her mouth to reply but just sighs, then says, "It's fine. You two can wait outside."

Akira leads Ryuji into the hall. Takemi and Yusuke disappear as Ryuji shuts the door behind them. The two return to the waiting room and sit in a pair of chairs. Akira scrolls his phone, while Ryuji sits and stares ahead.

A few minutes pass.

"Yo, can I ask you something?"

Akira lowers his phone and turns to his friend. "What's up?"

"Why don't you want to help the people at Shujin?"

Akira stares at Ryuji until his brain can queue up the proper response. "We've been over this, man. We can't-"

Ryuji shakes his hand. "Nah, man. I know the logic or whatever. But is that for real? Or is that what you're just sayin'?"

Akira feels his defenses rise. This is Ryuji, he reminds himself. The spark of emotion notwithstanding, Akira keeps his voice flat when he responds. "Do you think I have an ulterior motive?"

"I'm not one hundred percent on what that means, but I can guess what you're asking." Ryuji releases a long sigh. "Look, bro. I'm not saying I think you're lying."

"Then what are you saying?"

"You wanted to take down Kamoshida because he was a bastard, yeah? But also because he was hurting people you like, like Ann and Shiho. And if you hadn't gotten in his way, he would've hurt the Prez too."

"He broke your leg too."

"I remember," Ryuji says, extending the leg into a soft stretch. "I also remember he tried to rearrange your face. The point is, we all went after Kamoshida because he was a piece of shit. But he was a piece of shit to us. And yes, other guys like Mishima and the volleyball kids, but for us, it was personal.

"And we sorta fell into the Daisuke situation. I dropped the ball there. But even though there are a ton of Requests from Shujin students, you never want to touch those."

Akira considers, then says, "Alright. But if you don't think the explanation I've given is adequate, what do you think?"

Ryuji looks away, starts to speak, and then turns back to meet Akira's eyes. "I think the whole 'let's not do Shujin Requests because it'll be suspicious' is a convenient way for you not to help anyone at Shujin."

Akira cannot help the grin that rises to his face. "And why wouldn't I want to help them?"

Ryuji doesn't smile. "Because I think you hate them."

Akira's grin drops. "I hate them?"

"Yeah," Ryuji replies, with a shrug. "I think you hate them and don't care what happens to them."

"When have I ever said that? The students? The teachers? When did you ever hear me say, 'I hate them?'"

"Dude, are you serious?" Ryuji asks, as the corners of his mouth tilt up. "You don't have to say it. I see you scrolling through RINE. I know what they say about you on there. Do you think kids only talk about you when you're around? I hear the shit they spout. And those effin' teachers. They treat you like shit. The school treats you like shit."

"And so I don't want to help them?" Akira asks. Ryuji sucks in his lips, raises his brows, and shrugs once more. "Ryuji, we don't have any solid Requests from Shujin. You keep bringing up a bullying ring that antagonizes other bullies and a coach you don't like. If we changed Yamaguchi's heart, it would only benefit the kids on the track team. The ones who gave you shit and banned us from training at Shujin, remember?"

"But that's what I'm saying, dude. You don't like the kids at Shujin, so who cares about the bullying ring? And I know you don't like Nakaoka. You almost got in a fistfight with him, so why would you want to help him? Or any of them? Shit, man. I don't like em either."

"So why do you want to help them?" Akira asks.

Ryuji's voice lowers despite their solitude. "Because we're the Phantom Thieves, man. Isn't that the whole point?" Akira leans back in his chair and lowers his gaze to the floor tiles. "What if we got a good Request from someone at Shujin? What if someone asked us to change Yamaguchi's heart? Would you ignore it? Or forget Yamaguchi. How about anyone for anything else? Something serious? Would you want to help them?"

I'd help Haru, Akira thinks.

Another voice in his mind replies, Haru is your friend. Isn't that what Ryuji is saying?

He doesn't know what he's talking about.

But you don't like anyone else at Shujin. You hate Shujin. If Kamoshida hadn't made things personal, if you'd never befriended Ryuji or Ann or Makoto, would you have even given a fuck?

The thought discomforts Akira. Silence and isolation as a strategy. His initial moments in Tokyo inspired by such, but the Metaverse, Igor, and Arsene nullified the plan. Would a different path materialize from a change back then? Would Akira act against the injustice at all?

Would he learn of it?

Would he care?

Ryuji, always discerning.

"You may be right," Akira says. Ryuji stiffens in anticipation of whatever may come next. "I don't like the people at Shujin. The way they talk about me. The way they look at me." Ryuji remains silent, surprising Akira. "Maybe I really don't want to help them. Just because no one puts their hands on me doesn't mean I'm not bullied in my own way. And fuck Nakaoka. That part's true. I don't give a shit about what happens to the track team." Akira looks at his friend. "Sorry, man. It's true. Maybe if you wanted to join, I'd care. But unless I've missed something-" and Ryuji shakes his head, "you won't be doing that any time soon."

Akira sets his elbows on his knees and applies slow pressure. "I think it's smart to keep the Phantom Thieves away from Shujin. We shouldn't call attention to that connection. But I am lying when I act like that applies to everyone. If something happened to you, or Makoto, or Haru, or anyone I did care about at school, we'd head to the Metaverse. Maybe you're right, and I am a hypocrite."

"Damn," Ryuji mutters. "I didn't say all that."

He does not add 'you did,' as both hear the words.

"But maybe," Akira says, drawing out the word. "We have an opportunity with Yamaguchi."

"F'real?" Ryuji asks, and his good leg starts to jitter. "What'd you mean?"

"I've thought about this for a little while, but what if there's a way for us to change hearts without letting the world know the Phantom Thieves were involved?"

"Uh, ain't that the whole point?"

Akira smiles and begins to outline his concocted plan.

#

Ann knocks on the door, then grips the knob. Sometimes a sense of the mood on the other side leaks out and intuits itself for Ann. She feels nothing this time.

"Who is it?" Shiho calls.

"It's me," Ann replies.

"Oh. Come in, then."

Ann, gentle with the door, enters. Relief floods her when she sees Shiho and only Shiho. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Shiho's parents the last few times I've been here. A memory of Shiho's previous reference settles over her as a dark cloud.

"Hi," Ann says, and shuts the door.

"I didn't expect you today," Shiho replies, and gestures with a remote towards the muted television in the corner. "What with all the press."

Ann sees Madarame's pale face soundlessly speak words she recalls with no effort.

"Yeah," Ann replies, and sits in her usual chair. "We got him."

"And someone else got got him," Shiho says, a faint note of humor in her voice.

Ann nods. "Crazy, right?"

"The news is saying he's a former apprentice. Like your new friend."

Ann summarizes the previous conversation about Madarame's confession and death. They then sit in the quiet, watching the ghost of Madarame speak.

Shiho switches off the television when the report ends, and Ann steadies herself. Shiho's erratic mood swings - which totally were not Shiho's fault - made conversation difficult at times. For Ann's plan, she required Shiho's assistance.

"I'd like your help with something," Ann says.

Shiho's face flusters, but her voice remains calm. "There isn't much I can do from this hospital."

"Actually," Ann says, careful with her words. "There is. Are you going to see Mika-chan soon?"

#

Iwai stands by the door, foot tapping. "Would you hurry up?" He calls back into the gloom of his shop.

Kaoru's voice rebounds from deeper inside. "Coming! I'm- ah!" The familiar sound of many boxes collapsing punctuates his son's words.

Iwai heaves out a sigh, shoves his hands in his pockets, and marches toward the commotion.

Kaoru lays flat on his back, a dazed look on his face, half-buried in debris. A quick head shake, and Kaoru looks up at Iwai. "S-sorry, Dad."

"Uh-huh," Iwai replies, extending a hand.

Red-faced, Kaoru grips his father, and Iwai withdraws the boy to his feet. "I'll clean it up," Kaoru says and turns to the mess. "Right away."

Iwai reaches the previously proffered hand and gently smacks Kaoru on the back of his head. Little more than a tap, but Kaoru emits an, "Ow," anyway.

"Forget it," Iwai says. "Pile them up there. I'll take care of it in the morning."

"Are you sure?"

"Wouldn't be sayin' it if I wasn't," Iwai replies. Kaoru sets off to the task, and Iwai watches him work. After a bit, he asks, "Wanna get some imagawayaki on the way home?"

Kaoru turns, and his glasses seem to magnify his already wide eyes. "Seriously? Can we?"

"Why the hell not?" Iwai demands, and when Kaoru flinches, he continues, "Of course we can." He eases out a shrug, embarrassed in softening his approach. "We had a good day today."

"Okay, cool!" Kaoru returns to the boxes, moving faster now, and Iwai leaves him. He takes a sucker from his pocket, unwraps it, and slides it into his mouth. As ever, a voice in the back of his head mumbles something about cavities and dentists. Guess it has been a while. Iwai refuses to think about what his X-rays may reveal.

The front door's bell rings. "We're closed," Iwai growls, without a look.

"Even for me?"

Akimitsu Tsuda stands in the store's entryway, a small smile on his face.

Iwai stares at the man, openmouthed, sucker held steady by his tongue. Tsuda's brows rise in expectation, and Iwai cuts across the floor, arms wide.

The two men embrace and clap each other on the back. "Been a long time, brother," Tsuda says.

Iwai scoffs. "That's on you, you fucker. You knew where to find me."

They step clear of one another. Tsuda studies Iwai's face and says, "Shit, you got old."

Iwai jabs him in the shoulder. "No shit. You look like garbage yourself."

Tsuda's laugh remains the same. "True. One too many nights at the hostess clubs finally caught up with me. Used to be, I could drink all night and run circles around Shibuya. Nowadays, I down a shot and barely make it out my front door come morning."

Iwai feigns a sigh. "Where'd all the damn time go?"

"Where it always goes, to the fuckin' kids."

"Dad?" Kaoru's voice whispers down the aisle, and Iwai stiffens.

"Oh, speaking of," Tsuda exclaims as Kaoru steps into view. He half turns to Iwai and whispers, "This him?"

Iwai nods, and replies quickly but softly. "Go easy on him, okay?" He waves for Kaoru to approach. "This is an old friend of mine, Kaoru. His name's Akimitsu Tsuda."

Kaoru bows. "Now to meet you, Tsuda-san."

Tsuda laughs. "You got one hell of a proper kid here, Muneisha. How old are you?"

Kaoru swallows but replies, "Thirteen, sir."

"Thirteen," Tsuda says. "Man, the shit I got up to when I was your age." He knocks Iwai in the stomach with his elbow. "Say, Kaoru. How's your lady situation? Your old man teaching you all his tricks?"

Kaoru tilts his head to the side. "Huh? Tricks?"

Iwai wraps an arm around Tsuda's shoulders. "Say, why don't we step outside, eh?" He looks at Kaoru. "Make sure that mess is all cleaned up, yeah? I'll be right back."

Iwai half-leads and half-drags the middle-aged Tsuda out the front door. Kaoru says something in reply, but Iwai ignores him. Tsuda's storytelling always skewed toward the inappropriate.

Into the hot summer night step the sworn brothers, and when the door clangs shut, Iwai releases his friend and asks, "So, what's up?"

Tsuda frowns. "I can't visit?"

Iwai glares. "Fuck off. I'm happy to see you, brother. But you wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. You've known where I've been." Tsuda opens his mouth, but Iwai holds up a hand. "And listen, Kaoru doesn't know shit about the past. So don't say anything about back in the day."

Tsuda's face freezes as he processes Iwai's order. "Wait. Hold on. He doesn't know? About you?" Tsuda rolls up the sleeve of his forest green dress shirt, revealing an aging tattoo of a snarling dragon. "About this?"

Iwai shakes his head. "No. I mean, the kid suspects, sure. But-"

"Munehisa," Tsuda says, cutting him off. "Holy shit, bro. You can't just hope for the best here. Kid's got glasses, right? That means he's smart. He's gonna figure it out."

Iwai feels a familiar frustration churn within his stomach. "I know, alright? I'll deal with it. Now, what did you want?"

Tsuda clams up and replaces his sleeve. "I know you're out. But you've heard about what's been happening, right?"

Iwai scowls and glances at his shop. He can’t see Kaoru. "Kaneshiro, right?"

Tsuda sucks his teeth, turns, and spits. "Yeah. Guy's a fuckin'... well, I'm sure you've heard. I don't like it. Thought his little disappearing act three years ago would be permanent. But now he's back, and there've been whispers. Talks of connections. Outside the Syndicate. Outside all the Groups."

"Unsanctioned?" Iwai asks.

"Word is the Boss is pissed. But Kaneshiro's still working whatever this new angle is."

Iwai lowers his gaze to the concrete. "I can't get involved, man. I'm sorry. I've got the kid."

"Not too many bastards like us left, Munehisa," Tsuda replies. "Shit you'd say would go a long way."

"I doubt it," Iwai says. "What is it that Kaneshiro wants anyway? He's been pushing for months now. What's it all for?"

Tsuda stares at 'Untouchable's sign for a moment. Then, he says, "Manpower."

#

Ohya descends into Shibuya Underground holding herself aloft in the exaggerated togetherness only the veteran inebriated can pull off. Most people around her pay her no mind, but dotted bystanders outside shops throw occasional glances or double-takes. A small collection of teenagers spot and snicker as Ohya passes, but the middle-aged and elderly only shake their heads in disapproval.

Ohya believes her state overblown. A mind clear enough for her purpose. Everyone can fuck off. She may or may not say this phrase to some who stare a little too long, but the haziness of the lights plays hell with her brain, and by the time Ohya finds herself outside Rafflesia, she remains half-convinced she said nothing to no one.

"May I help you?" The woman out front asks. This is Hanasuki or Hanasaki or Hanasomething. Akira's boss. Ohya feels delighted the woman doesn't seem to regard her poorly. She must think I'm a customer.

"Yeah, thank you," Ohya says, in a practiced voice. "I was hoping I could speak with Akira Kurusu."

Hanawhatever's face doesn't change but does stiffen for a moment's fraction that Ohya detects despite her drunkenness. "May I ask why?"

Ohya knows Akira's working. Even when he doesn't bring his phone in an adorable effort to throw her off, he attends to his employment with duty and responsibility. "Could you tell him it's his cousin? It's very important. A family thing." Ohya flashes Hanaperson a winning smile - said smile procures more interviews than most would fathom - and finishes with, "I promise I won't keep him long."

Hana[insertnamehere] bows slightly, and retreats to the backroom.

Ohya steps away from the storefront and sags against the far wall, willing her mind to focus. Akira emerges from the backroom, along with Hanaboss and another teenager sporting a baseball cap and overalls. Ooh-la-la, Ohya thinks and then stops herself from guffawing once she witnesses Akira's getup.

Akira bows in apology to his boss and coworker, and Ohya's jocularity extinguishes. He zooms over to where Ohya stands. "You don't answer your fucking messages?" Ohya demands once Akira enters earshot, but still softly to avoid eavesdroppers.

"You called me away from work to ask that?" Akira asks.

Ohya nods towards a hall leading to one of the mall's emergency exits. "Are you seriously shocked right now?" Ohya asks, as they enter the secluded spot. "God, kid. What the hell are you involved in?"

Akira raises his hand and rubs the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, leaving Ohya to wonder if this kid has the gall to act like she's the inconvenience. "Look, I've still got a lot of time left in my shift. Can we skip to where you plainly say what you're talking about?"

"Madarame?" Ohya asks. "Daiki Aoe? Helloooo?"

A look crosses Akira's face that befuddles Ohya. It is not one of indignation, fear, anger, or anything expected, but one of tired annoyance. That's... that means... Ohya tries to fit the pieces together, but the new information won't cooperate.

"Let me guess," Akira says. "You're wondering if the Phantom Thieves had something to do with it?"

It clicks. Akira's heard this... what was this, exactly? A complaint? Ohya files the information as a complaint until she can retrieve her thesaurus. Akira's heard this complaint before.

I'm not the only one who knows about his connection with the Phantom Thieves. Ohya regards her ward. Then, she says, "Madarame confesses, and minutes later, he's dead? What if the Phantom Thieves wanted to shut him up?"

Akira shakes his head. "The Phantom Thieves didn't kill Madarame. I've already seen this rumor flying around my school's message boards, okay?"

Oh.

"It doesn't make sense," Akira continues. "Madarame had already confessed. The Phantom Thieves won. Why would they have killed him? How would they even have done that?"

Ohya stares at Akira. "How'd they get him to confess?" She asks. "No one knows how they do that either."

"Folie a deux?" Akira asks, smiling. Ohya no longer listens.

Connections and chemicals fire through her brain, fighting through or circumventing the haziness the booze gifted. Akira Kurusu. Shujin. Kamoshida. Madarame. Yusuke Kitagawa. Admin. Nakanohara. Calling C-

"Ah, fuck," Ohya says, before she can stop herself.

Akira blinks, and his brows furrow. "What?" He asks. "What is it?"

The words almost tumble from Ohya's mouth, but she keeps them in her head. You're a Phantom Thief, cuz.

Of course Akira Kurusu was a Phantom Thief. 'Knows the admin,' yeah fucking right. Akira says something else, but Ohya releases a huge groan that shuts him up.

"What is wrong with you?" He asks.

"Nothing," Ohya mutters, and waves a hand through the air. "It's fine. It's all fine. So are you a wizard or something?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind," Ohya says. Okay, so Akira Kurusu is a Phantom Thief. Next question, if we think the Phantom Thieves killed Madarame, do we believe Akira Kurusu killed Madarame? It takes a second for Ohya to decide. Nope. Alright. So Akira Kurusu didn't kill Madarame, and Daiki Aoe did. The timing is still ridiculous.

"Are you even listening to me?" Akira asks.

"No," Ohya replies.

Akira throws his hands into the air. "Look, I need to get back to work."

"Uh huh," Ohya mutters, now only one-fifth listening. Akira turns and marches away, and Ohya resolves herself. I need to speak with Daiki Aoe.

#

Akira returns to Rafflesia.

"Is everything alright?" Hanasaki asks, once Akira enters the shop.

"Yes," Akira replies. He turns to look back down the hall but sees no Ohya. Briefly, Akira worries the stench of alcohol that clung to her has seeped into his clothes, but a quick sniff reveals no odor. He bows to Hanasaki. "I'm very sorry about that. I'll head back and see about those orders."

Hanasaki nods and doesn't press the topic, though Akira feels her eyes on him as he walks to the back room.

Morgana waits just beyond the door. "What was that about?" He asks, as Akira pulls the door shut.

Akira searches for Haru and sees her crouched over some fertilizer bags on the other side of the room. "The same thing. Madarame's death and the Phantom Thieves."

"Ohya too, huh?" Morgana asks.

"Everyone's worried about it." Akira shrugs. "Save for Ryuji."

"Do you think there's something to it?" Morgana asks.

"Something to what?" Akira replies, his eyes still on Haru. "We know we didn't do anything to Madarame. Or Daiki Aoe."

"Yeah, but the more people talk about it, the more I'm starting to wonder."

"Me too," Akira says.

Haru stands and approaches. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine," Akira says, and smiles. "Morgana and I were just having a little disagreement."

"Oh," Haru replies, and glances down at Morgana. "I meant with you and your cousin."

"Oh, that," Akira says, his voice neutral. "Yeah, nothing to worry about there. She can be a bit disruptive, but she's harmless."

Haru nods. "Was she okay? I didn't get a good look at her, but she seemed a bit unsteady."

"She's naturally clumsy. Runs in the family. Fortunately, I didn't inherit the gene."

"Mmmm," Haru replies. "What's her name?"

"Ohya," Akira says, then freezes. "Tomiko. Ohya Tomiko."

"I see. I would've liked to meet her."

Akira stops himself from rolling his eyes. "Next time. She just came back for a quick chat. She'll be heading home."

Haru's grin expands. "Very well, then. Shall we see to these orders?"

The two begin arranging and pruning the custom orders Hanasaki handed down earlier. Simple work, and the colorful flowers allow the task to avoid tediousness and provide room for thought and conversation.

Akira grasps for something to say. "Haru?" He asks.

"Yes?"

Did you hear about that painter, Madarame?

"Never mind."

Haru tilts her head a bit, then shrugs. As she returns to work, she perks up, almost a tiny jump. "Oh, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"What?"

"About our deal," Haru says, then trails off, opening a path for Akira to fill the remainder.

Akira thinks, then says, "Oh, about you and Morgana? Sorry, it slipped my mind. The photos, right? You wanted to take pictures?"

Haru nods shyly, evidently still embarrassed about the request.

"Sure thing," Akira continues. "This weekend?"

Haru nods once more.

"Alright. We don't have a shift then, though. Want to meet up somewhere? I can bring you and his carrier."

"Carrier?" Haru asks. "Can't he travel in my bag?"

Akira rubs the back of his neck and smiles. "Well, the thing is, uh, Morgana and I have a weird relationship. He mostly just clings to me and hangs out in my bag. If you try to do that, I'm afraid he may run away or at least hop down off your shoulder or out of your bag. You could get separated. I'd rather have him in a carrier until you get him back to your house."

Haru offers a thin smile. "I suppose that makes sense. He's only used to me here, after all. He might get nervous if he's in some new environment."

"He does well in new environments," Akira replies. "But if he doesn't feel secure, he might get antsy and run off in the middle of Shibuya or something."

"We wouldn't want that," Haru says.

"Exactly."

Morgana stares up at the two. "I hate every part of this conversation."

Haru crouches before Morgana and smiles. "Awww, that's right. We're talking about you, Mona-chan!"

Morgana looks ready to hiss. "I'm starting to find you more annoying than delightful."

"Don't be a grouch," Akira orders, and Morgana replies with one of his 'don't trifle with me' looks. Akira returns to his job.

"Would you mind sending me a list of his requirements? I'll pick them up at a local pet store after school."

Akira looks up and stares at her. "Requirements?"

Haru nods. "Mmmhmmm. You know. His litter box, litter brand, preferred food brand, brushes, any coating, passwords to his collar tag in case he does get lost and I have to log in to locate him, all those things."

"Uh," Akira says.

This time, Morgana does hiss. "I don't use a litter box. I'm a human!"

"Where do you go to the bathroom?" Akira asks, before he can stop himself.

Morgana's offense radiates off his little body. "I use the toilet like a normal person!"

"I'll get you that list," Akira replies. As soon as I figure out what should be on it.

"Are you serious?" Morgana demands. "It's one thing to be carted around in a carrier. Now I'm supposed to shit in a box? Unacceptable!"

"We'll talk about this later," Akira says, and tries to work.

"And what's this bit about tracking? If you think I'm going to have some... some microchip shoved into me just so we can keep going with this stupid plan, you'd better start thinking about finding another human-trapped-in-a-cat's-body-who-can-also-transform-into-a-bus. But I don't think you're gonna have much luck!"

"Is he alright?" Haru asks, hand to her mouth. "He seems upset."

"He'll be fine," Akira says, then looks at Morgana. "It'll be fine." Morgana looks ready to say more, so Akira cuts off his avenue by asking a question he intended to ask earlier. "Haru? Are you alright?"

Haru nods. "Yes, I've never seen Mona-chan so agitated before, though. Is he-"

"No, not about him," Akira says and turns from the flowers. "I meant, are you alright?"

Haru remains silent for a moment, then says, "I assume you're referring to the incident Makoto informed you about?"

"I am," Akira says, genuinely concerned but also relieved that Morgana has shut up. "This guy was bothering you? What's the deal?"

"It's complicated," Haru says. "And, Akira, while I appreciate you letting me borrow your cat and consider you a friend, I'm not comfortable enough to confide in you about this particular topic."

Akira seeks a response but finds none. "Okay. I understand. But if you need help, please ask."

Haru returns to the flowers she'd been pruning. "Thank you, Akira. If that moment arrives, I won't hesitate to Request assistance."

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