#tries to murder akechi with his bare hands

[iguanasplit]

Goro cannot afford the nice pair of gloves with his first paycheck but he takes his mom the overpriced trendy cafe she always stares at but never goes in. its a kinder timeline.

Arcana Shuffle AU NG+ au where (some) adults remember.

[mywifealhaitham]

can I pls get Akechi Goro Dating HC ?

( a very fluff one to pls 😭 )

୨୧⸝⸝ I'm sooo happy my first p5 request is akechi he's my everything ❤️ also I got very off track on this and it's honestly just word vomit... I hope you enjoy regardless anon ^_^

❥ akechi isn't the worst boyfriend ever its just he is a very complicated person so you might have to adjust to all his sharp sides. dating him when he puts up his princely mask is honestly like a dream. of course pda isn't that common due to his reputation however he makes lots of time for you! at the beginning of the relationship he takes you on some simple dates like to a café.

❥ even though you caught his eye akechi is still a complicated person so these first few dates are just him analyzing you. He's a detective and he needs to make sure your honest true self when your with him because he can't bare to see himself in you. once he either figures out your intentions are pure or you reassure him he'll feel better about himself but he doesn't let his mask slip not just yet.

❥ once he adjusts a bit to quite literally one of the first healthy relationships in his life he's very sweet. he adores quality time with you so honestly you can drag him just about wherever and he'll be happy. again sadly some of this is limited because of his job but he always makes sure to text you goodmorning so you'll see it as you maybe make your way to school or as you just wake up.

❥ princely persona or not he's still a little shit so he likes teasing you. there's a difference between his prince act and real selfs teasing and that is he's alot nicer before you truly know him fully. He normally teases you when he's kissing you, gently brushing his lips on yours or your cheek leaving you flustered. deep inside his heart he finds it cute that you can get flustered just by him... he's just a teensy bit possessive shhh❥ he tries his hardest to keep you away from any metaverse shenanigans and the phantom thieves. he loves you, you're his angel, and if you found out what he did he'd never forgive himself even if you did. though if you know about all of this or god forbid be apart of thieves then his mask will probably slip alot sooner.

❥ for the sake of convenience let's say you did witness everything that went down in shidos palace. he hates how he'll never be the perfect prince for you however his loyalty towards you increases tenfold. if you happen to fight by his side in the metaverse he'll always protect you no matter what. this applies to his personas too, loki and Robin hood are quick to slice any shadows that harms you.

❥ okay now onto some lighter stuff and not just akechi vomit ^_^ he's veryyyy touch starved and he doesn't want to admit to it. anytime you hold his hand or he even just hugs you he gets complete goosebumps. at first he honestly hates it, it makes him feel vulnerable which is something that he never wants to be. just reassure him that it's ok to let down his walls around you and that you love him!

❥ he can't really handle a full cuddle session for that long without feeling uncomfortable however he still loves them. if you too sleep over feel free to cling onto him... late at night he might hold you a bit before gently pushing you off and just holding you hand as you both sleep. on the train he doesn't mind if you lay your head on his shoulder or if you're both standing gripping onto his arm to avoid the passengers.

❥ now that he's more open towards you his teasing definitely gets a bit more mean. of course he doesn't mean any of it it's just the real sweet stuff makes him again feel vulnerable. he'll call you a idiot whenever you lose a game or playfully flick your forehead (I live for teasing I'm giggling kicking my feet rn). in the metaverse if you both are fighting together he might make a remark about you being slow or that you're practically "begging" for him to save you like a princess

❥ Akechi at heart is a very sweet boy, yes he is a murder and kinda insane but I swear guys haha...

[fangirlingpuggle]

Ok so I couldn’t sleep and started thinking what if Shiho became a phantom thief and now I have a whole ass very dumb AU...so here is the don’t you want to go apeshit AU.

So Akira has an umbrella doesn’t wait but does see Ann get into the car he arrives at school and see’s Shiho overhearing other students talk about Ann the keywords get spoken both are in the metaverse, standard plot happens Shiho freaking out especially when she sees Kamoshida’s shadow but also getting angry.  When the two end up in the metaverse again and Shiho sees a cognitive version of Ann she goes full beast mode and awakens her persona. She refuses to go see Kamoshida when he tries to confront her oh so angry over someone not following his orders Akira’s there and the pair confront him, he gets pissed and basically says he’ll get them both expelled and that he’ll up the ante on he rumours about Ann and other horrible things. Shiho and Akria are ready to murder him.

Kawakami storms in overhearing everything and PISSED she is ready to end him when he reveals he knows about her side job and not say anything or else. She is shaking with rage and gets caught up when Shiho and Akira re-enter the metaverse. She awakens her own persona. The group then leave with Morgana and deliver the calling card that she plasters everywhere.

Kawakami having a persona doesn’t really help because Shiho pretty much single handily charges through the palace and beats the shit out of Kamoshida’s shadow. Morgana steals the treasure and comes back and Akira just standing there cheering her on while Kawakami’s just stealing other treasures.

The only reason she doesn’t kill him is that that’s too easy in her opinion he’s going to live with it and suffer, he dies now his reputation survives even if the truth comes out the school could bury it she wants his reputation dead and buried and him to live the rest of his life suffering.

The group start exploring the mementos, Kawakami especially loves the treasures like no need to be a maid I can just steal all this shit from mementos... until finds out about the other shadows and finds Takase’s guardians and well... her turn to go beast mode.

She still goes for the treasure a lot she’s as bad as Morgana and is the one who sells stuff at Iwai’s... he’s pretty convinced she’s a secret crime boss with the amount of stuff she goes in to sell.

Akechi turns out is watching as black mask as they’re in mementos and honestly kind of impressed. When the groups traveling, they actually see black mask destroying shadows and Akira falls hard and fast he is a pining mess.

Morgana ends up staying with Kawakami because he can not deal with the PINING! Akira is waxing poetic about the guy they saw tear apart shadows with his bare hands.

Kawakami: I mean it’s fine it’s not like I’m a crazy cat lady, it doesn’t count if the cat talks back right?

Shiho:…

Akira:…

Shiho:…should we tell her that no one else being able to hear Mona and her holding full conversations with them it’s literally going to make her the definition of a crazy cat lady?

Also Ann and Ryuji started hanging out as he didn’t believe the rumours about her and defended her, and Mishima thinks that they are the phantom thief’s and keeps talking to them about it and Akira and Shiho overhear which is how the website happens. Ann and Ryuji are just very confused.

Ryuji:… dude we aren’t the phantom thieves

Mishima: Rrriiigghhht I gotcha

Ann: No we really aren’t

Mishima: Right I get it

Ann:…I don’t think you do

All other palaces under the cut... sorry this is very long

Palace 2

Shiho and Ann are on a date, Akira is sort of third wheeling when they meet Yusuke and then Madarame. When they get to Madarame’s palace they run into black mask and amongst Akira’s awful pining they end up agreeing to work together. Black Mask is basically just seeing how dangerous they are and if he should deal with them… but he seems the entire time flirting with Akira in their weird competitive way.

Black mask is ready to end Madarame when Shiho talks about how change of heart makes him suffer more that he has live with everything falling apart and death he’ll dies and the truth may never come to light and people will still respect and admire him but if he admits everything, he has to life his life with everything gone….

Akechi starts thinking after that. He agrees to help with a change of heart. Just to see.

He also agrees may help out other times to. Akira is beaming and Shiho regrets everything later that night when Akira won’t stop texting her!!! He doesn’t even what the guy looks like under the mask but still keeps texting about his eyes. HE HASN’T EVEN SEEN HIS EYES!

They steal Madarme’s heart no real problem.

Yusuke actually kept hanging out with Ann and the also Ryuji… Mishima is now even more convinced they are the phantom thieves.

As is Makoto whose following them around.

Ann, Ryuji and Yusuke have no fucking idea what’s going on.

Palace 3

Akira actually figures out who Akechi is as soon as he starts calling the thieves out, he has spent the entire of the last palace listening to the other talk and bantering with each other and as soon as they call on him and they start bantering lightly he knows. Shiho also knows she’s just sitting there paling like ‘Oh god no not in the real world to Mementos was bad enough not here to’ she doesn’t even care he’s a detective she cares that she’s not going to get any sleep from 3am pining texts… especially now Akira has actually seen his eyes.

They meet in the corridor and Shiho nopes out as they start flirting and Akechi realises, he knows and then freaks out and runs for it… now Shiho has to deal with moping Akira.

Kawakami actually decides for them to go after Kaneshiro after she’s focusing more on teaching and notices students acting odd and see’s some at Iwai’s shop while she’s selling loot. So, she decides they’re going after him. She finds out who he is with Iwai’s help.

They don’t actually get into debt Shiho using her volley ball skill and pretty much downing the bank. Which catches Black mask’s attention and he meets up with them Akira pretty much says he knows but doesn’t care and trusts Akechi even though said will catch them. Akechi is full of guilt.

Kawakami is ignoring the teenage bullshit and her and Mona are stealing everything.

Makoto ends up realising they’re not the phantom thieves but has got adopted into their friend group. She’s tried show Mishima the evidence they’re not phantom thieves but he just says he’s really impressed how dedicated they are to secret identities… they’ve given up trying to talk sense to him at this point.

Palace 4

Futaba still contacts the group as Alibaba and they figure out about her but well they’re in LeBlanc and Sae and Sojiro are there and they both end up there in the palace Akechi’s there to…

Best way to describe the palace is fucking trauma… it’s in this one that Akechi working for Shido as an assassin, Wakaba’s death, Akechi being Wakaba’s subject of her research, Shido being Akechi’s father and maybe Futaba’s father as well is all revealed it’s a lot…

Sojiro awakens his own persona with everything especially the monster Wakaba that gives Akechi a fucking panic attack and has him unable to fight. Sojiro goes full dad mode. Sae meanwhile is with Futaba’s shadow and helping Futaba remember what actually happened.

Pretty such Sojiro is like ‘I have now adopted my future son in law and will be arranging therapy for him’ when they get out as well plotting Shido’s downfall.

Futaba is much better after and deals with medjed also starts hacking into Shido’s systems to fuck with him because they may not be targeting him yet but she will be fucking with him.

Also, Futaba, Sae and Akechi end up debating feather man episodes and lore so much… Sojiro closes the café and turns the lights off and none of them realise.

Palace 5 not 4 yeah orders a bit different because Sae knows about the metaverse and in Futaba’s palace Akechi revealed Sae has one and she is not happy with that at all.

While Kawakami, Shiho and Akira are on school trip Sae decides FUCK IT she’s dealing with her palace and basically demands a calling card that Sojiro and Akechi end up scribbling on a napkin that she grabs and then demands they let her into metaverse.

Sae is beating the shit of her own shadow while Sojiro and Akechi just watch on awkwardly… at the end Sae awakens her own Persona and the group come back with a new target.

Palace 4 now 5 Akechi reveals he’s been ordered to kill the target and that Shido will know somethings up those leads to

Akira: Hey Sae… how hard would it be to fake a death?

They handle the place without issue change his heart there’s a fake announcement of his death Shido thinks he’s won as Akechi mentioned killed thieves in the palace… not knowing they are getting ready to end him… Sojiro is ready to 1v1 him.

Maruki palace

No one is happy, Sojiro and Sae have coffee broken coffee mugs and try to shank him when he walks into LeBlanc

End is him getting kicked the shit out of by team mom and dad while they’re yelling

“THIS.IS.NOT.HOW.YOU.DO.THERAPY!!!!”

Bonus dumb ideas

Mona tries flirting with Ann one time even though she can’t understand him Shiho threatens to have him neutered.

In mementos Sojiro insists on driving and has on numerous occasions threatened to turn this cat around if they don’t quiet down.

All palaces end up with Akechi and Akira doing their competitive flirting. The rest of them just ignore the two.

Futaba still helps out team and knows everything even if she doesn’t go in to the metaverse.

Sojiro meets Caroline and Justine and is just like well I’ve already adopted three kids what’s two more.

Sorry this is very very long and dumb I need sleep. Sorry.

[cosmic-espero]

I absolutely adore the human chihuahua that is Akechi but the fact that P5R tries to make some sort of difficult choice out of bringing everything back to normal vs saving his life is so funny.

This dude killed a fuckton lot of people because of his daddy issues and inferiority complex. He tried to kill Ren in three separate instances and got him brutalized and drugged by the police. He's directly involved in the murder of two of his friends' parents, and wholly unrepetant as well. Nobody in Ren's friend group even remotely likes him because he's a thoroughly unpleasant and edgy dumbfuck.

Doc, not only is his life not enough to get me to raise the Obvious Bad Ending Flag, I'd say that at this point me strangling him with my bare hands would just be us getting even.

[mjm5655]

@seethingveins // continued from here !

whatever majima had got himself into this time, it wasn't good, but he's been here, done this before, he's pretty confident he might get out of it, & if he doesn't, that's probably something like ten years minimum behind bars.

the one interrogating him looked awfully young, nearly too young for this kind of work, must have been a prodigy of some kind majima figured, as he definitely had his wits about him, he had introduced himself with his badge as all law officials do, goro akechi ... seemed like some sort of joke they would put two goro in a single room together, least his family name wasn't majima ; that would have really got confusing.

what akechi said to him ... was odd, usually interrogators were much more aggressive at this point, putting their foot down if they weren't getting answers, which majima was giving none of. he was here for a crime he didn't commit it seemed, & he wasn't even sure what for.

❝ whaddya mean to leave dna ? someone been tryin' to frame me or some shit ? ❞

it was absolutely impossible for majima's dna to be there, he was not even involved with this crime, yes, he does a lot of dudes in, but whatever this was, specifically, as little as what he was told ... the coppers were half expecting he'll just spit out what they wanted to know without telling him the small details besides it being a murder.

❝ what other proof can i give ya than i was just chillin' in my dig watchin' some chick flick with zombies in it ? fer once i was havin' some peace, & then when i went out for a stroll, ya fuckers just arrested me out of no where. ❞

there was no alibi, no one to back him up on what he was doing that night, he was by himself when he was doing all that, whilst sure, his men would defend their boss at all costs ; it wasn't likely the coppers would have believed any of them, being yakuza & all.

it looked like akechi, or himself wouldn't be leaving this room tonight as he tried to make himself as comfy as he could on this teensy ass chair that he was sitting on, he could barely relax as his hands were cuffed & attached to the chair so they were certain he wouldn't make any quick moves, & absolutely deck the other out of existence & manage an escape.

[smolstarthief]

Persona 5/Persona 5 Strikers: Pro-Police or Anti-Police?

Hoo boy... So this honestly has been a LONG time coming on my end because I have seen so much of that debate on social media (Twitter namely) and I can see the points of BOTH sides but there have been moments where it just got out of hand... Especially whenever people tried to put in a more grey/nuanced take only to be slammed and taken out of context. Even repeatedly mentioning the interrogation at the beginning of P5 which, I will admit has gotten tiresome. At least for me, I do still feel for Joker and I wished the game acknowledged his trauma more but there's a thing called, "beating a dead horse" and this is one along with "Haru says ACAB" in Strikers (which was done THREE TIMES in the same arc and it got annoying fast, like shut up already! We get it!). So, let's dive in a little bit:

MAJOR SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!

Persona 5/Persona 5 Royal

Now let me just say I know! Police in Japan are just as bad if not worse than the West and I STILL hate the idea of Makoto wanting to become a cop for such naive reasons (especially with what happened to Sae, her own sister!)... But there are at least some of form of nuances sometimes and by that I mean, I can see what they were trying to do? I do agree that P5/P5S backpedaled SEVERELY by deciding to sweep issues under the rug after addressing them and not continuing from such. In fact I feel like it could have been a hell of a lot better. But P5 did something different compared to previous games and addresses the issues DIRECTLY right at the beginning of said game! It was tense and horrifying, but needed. Of course... They then sweep it under the rug and act like nothing traumatic happened to our protag which is NOT a good look at all and I'm still pissed off about it. In the main game's case, it's portrayed as more black and white with only a SMALL amount of nuance like that cop that was trying to help Futaba when she went out by herself and got lost (which people ignore entirely by the way). So I CAN see where people got the "anti-police" message from... But that's only the tip of the iceberg as it's ACTUALLY more about Systematic Corruption, not exactly or JUST police corruption. Namely in politics with Shido and the Conspiracy (which is apparently still somewhat around in Strikers until Owada's downfall) controlling everything all the way to law enforcement. The force had been basically under his payroll (including the corrupt SIU Director before his death) whether by force or not (mostly not in this case though). Now honestly, the police depicted there are undoubtedly rotten to the core save for a VERY SMALL handful (the cop that was trying to help Futaba which, again, gets ignored by several). Look at the interrogators who ruthlessly beat and drug a minor without any second thought or remorse for example. But again, the black and white narrative the game kept unwittingly doing ended up being to its detriment in a way. I'm not defending those assholes AT ALL! They deserved every punishment given to them! But for a game that goes on about grey morality... It doesn't quite deliver on that. Still though, it does emphasize that it's more of the fault of the whole corrupt system, not just one part of it. There needs to be change and reform which is what our MCs were trying to do in a way (more like inspiring change but still). In the end, it's all about the following:

Corruption and abuse of power.

Again the police depicted in this game were incompetent at best, corrupt at worse with very few silver linings. But it's not just them but rather the one person responsible for the whole mess. Who had them under his payroll? Who controlled them and by extension all of Tokyo? Who was willing to dispose of anyone who "outlives their usefulness" or is perceived as a threat to what he wants (including his own family)?

SHIDO AND BY EXTENSION THE CONSPIRACY

Bottom line: They are definitely a problem but it's not just them.

"But, Joker and his trauma?"

I definitely understand that and still do. I fully believe he has and still has trauma with the police. Easy! But... I do feel like people go too far with it sometimes. It's hard to explain but there have been moments where people either use it as a justification/argument against someone trying to provide a more nuanced view of things or... Dare I say, depict him like a "uwu soft traumatized boi." Like I said, it's hard to explain on my end so feel free to ignore it. Everyone deals with trauma differently so there is STRONG chance that I'm overanalyzing it. I just remember moments where I just feel a little, I guess annoyed? I'm not sure exactly but final thing: I understand what he went through and I can't imagine how long it would take to recover but I hope he DOES overcome it.

"Sae? Akechi?"

Yep, even though their jobs are different, they are by and large members of law enforcement no matter how you spin it. Both were broken in a way. Akechi is pretty easy to explain with how Shido negatively impacted his life but not much about Sae, who dealt with sexism/misogyny at her workplace along with the trauma of her father's (also a cop) death. She no doubt had some idealism only to be hit with the fact that she's gonna have to use underhanded/downright illegal tactics to get by and even rise up the ranks. She, therefore ended up (well, nearly) corrupted herself before coming to her senses. That's honestly one of the BIGGEST REASONS why I felt like Makoto joining the force to become a police commissioner isn't a good, even a downright naïve, idea. I honestly would have been somewhat fine with it if it weren't for that fact among other things. Regardless of her willpower, it will go south fast.

Now... Onto Strikers!

Persona 5 Strikers

Since the game came out and I started playing it, I still feel like the system is still beyond saving, especially when attempting to do it from the inside. But I don't mind the added nuances that P5 didn't do much of. It's still continuing the critiques, just shows more of what does happen within said system and even has an ACTUAL officer (Zenkichi) say, "Yeah, my job sucks, everyone's corrupt, there are much better ways to do things and make a change but not this. I'm only staying because I have a daughter to take care of and it's all I know. I'm no different from them." Was it all handled well? I wouldn't say "yes" (Joker's trauma is BARELY addressed at all of course) but a little better than what P5's narrative did which only addressed the issues but not exactly follow up on them. Now to be fair... In the system, regardless of where you live, any one within it who remotely tries to do something or speak against it either lose their jobs or even go "missing" irl. Those have happened and it's more proof that yeah, it's rotten to the core. There's no denying it but regardless, that's NOT what the game is about at all. At least that's what I feel about it as it's only PART of the narrative. I think Zenkichi puts it best here:

Speaking of Zenkichi... Oh boy... Now I definitely understand some of the criticisms with him but honestly, he was the best written (PT) character I've ever encountered! He was honestly the perfect representation of those that genuinely want to help and do good, only to be held back by an extremely harsh reality. It was already hinted at with Sae but here? It 100 percent confirms just how harsh and even cutthroat it can be if it could break someone's idealism so badly. Even Kaburagi of all people thinks the same thing Zenkichi said:

Then there's his past and it's a tragic one! But let's look more at the decisions he ended up making:

While it was no doubt done to protect his daughter, he ended making a selfish decision along with a selfless one (which was brilliant!) with not only allowing the cover up of his wife's death and denying justice for her, but also ruining an innocent person and their family's lives.

It's horrible, but also... There's a grey area/nuance as with the rest of his character. It was both understandable, but also wrong as he, as Akane's Shadow puts it:

He sacrificed his values, his morals, all for the sake of having a peace of mind. Speaking of Akane, she's also an interesting case in a way that she more or less perfectly represents the more "black and white" views on justice in general. Namely the more toxic/biased kind. Her reasons are also understandable but she was also acting selfishly by only focusing on how SHE was effected by Aoi's death and not even considering those that were also grieving her death and/or that people grieve/handle grief differently than her. But back on topic.

Her own views and beliefs that law enforcement basically SHOULD be dismantled (mostly out of said childish bias and black & white views) and it's framed as WRONG and it's very much correct on that. Chaos and order are two sides of the same coin, one can't exist without the other. When I say ACAB, I'm calling for reform, defund, have the corrupt held accountable for EVERYTHING and even face jail time for their crimes! Defund the police, have the ones that arrest, harm, and even murder out of bias (race, gender, etc.), lose their badges/jobs and locked up, make improvements! It's saying that there IS still corruption out there and there's no denying it. But fully eliminating the law in general will just lead to more problems. Now granted, she's young and clearly doesn't fully understand why those views are ultimately wrong but still... It was a very interesting subject to tackle and I feel like they handled it well.

Now back to Zenkichi, he was at first in denial about his decisions ultimately being the wrong ones too and even tries to justify it. Of course, his Shadow said otherwise and that was when he finally admitted that he really did act no different from the criminals he despised. But it also doesn't mean he can't redeem himself and that's what ultimately leads to his new resolve:

That right there along with everything else! There's the nuance! And ultimately despite some hiccups, Strikers handled the grey morality and nuance beautifully! Especially regarding law enforcement! Dare I say, even better than the base game! It continues the critiques with no problem but also showing different sides and areas of it! There is good and evil, but what about in-between? What about the more greyer area? It still says that there IS corruption, sometimes even beyond saving but... Sometimes a small silver lining is hidden somewhere.

Now, the ultimate question:

Is P5 & P5S (namely the latter) Pro-Police or Anti-Police?

Personally, my answer is this: Neither.

Why? What theme do they both have in common?

JUSTICE

Someone puts it best on Twitter that the games are more pro-justice and I fully agree!

P5/P5S gives the idea about following your OWN justice, your OWN moral code and rules, paving your OWN path and not let others dictate it! That's what the MCs ultimately start to learn in both games. Therefore it's pro-justice. Again, do I agree that the system is beyond saving? Yeah. Do I at least acknowledge and understand what the narratives are trying to say and nuances regardless even if I don't agree with some writing decisions (ex: Makoto wanting to become a commissioner despite everything)? Also yes. But at the same time, don't judge a book by its cover for other people (not just law enforcement and politics mind you). Especially some that genuinely DO want to help at best. That there is nuance and greyness, just have to look closely. Some of the MCs are still TERRIBLY written and executed (even annoying) but the message was still somewhat there.

Final Thoughts

Now I fully understand how you all feel of course! I still believe in ACAB and even I agree that maybe I'm one to talk and have a lot more to learn about the world... This is just my own attempt at putting my own two cents in. If you disagree, that's fine! This is just what I've felt should be at least talked about more often. And I tried to phrase it as best as I can without coming off as insensitive or ignorant and if I did, I sincerely apologize for that! I'm not trying to say, come off as a "bootlicker" or any of the sort. I'm just trying show discuss more of the grey areas and nuances that are, more often than not, constantly overlooked. How one interprets both games is ultimately up to them. You, the player. And this is my own interpretation. Simple as that. I hope you all have a good day/afternoon/evening!

[shadow-scenarios]

Hello~ may I ask for something slightly specific? I wanted to ask about a scenario in which the reader recently obtains the Meta-Nav but instead of the PT finding out first, Goro does. See, the reader and Goro have recently become acquaintances and reader thinks that the Meta-Nav is something related to illegal activity so she goes to consult their detective friend on this mysterious app! Haha, sorry if this is too specific ;-;

Hey there simulationone, this isn’t too specific!! I like creative ideas that change the plot & this has been my favourite request to write so far.

However, I did change the request slightly. I made it so that the Reader awakened to their Persona & gains the MetaNav!! I hope that’s alright with you. If not, feel free to message me again and I can rewrite it.

{ Post Writing Note: Well, I wrote way too much!! Sorry if there’s less Akechi content than you thought, I got hyperfixated on how it would affect the plot. I’d love to write a Part 2 full of angst with this, so feel free to request it!! }

- Nexus.

Dance with Justice | Goro Akechi

Life at Kosei High was predictable. Like a metronome. Constant pressure to be the best & high achievement boundaries, it was a wonder how she was ever accepted without some sort of moonlighting as a prodigy. These stories of mental shutdowns & psychotic breakdowns made the world look grim & everyone seemed desperate to escape it all.

Comfort was found in the Phantom Thieves and how they manipulated hearts. Dancing the line between immoral & illegal, it was a grey area where the who was less significant than the how. Society grasped onto them as miraculous saviours as they solved cases faster than regular forces ever could: Kamoshida, Madarame, Kaneshiro, Medjed. The world was taken by storm, these renegade rogues looking to change the world & it seemed they were no longer an urban legend.

Their downfall was unexpected, to say the least. Okumura was murdered in cold blood, his mental shutdown playing onscreen during an important meeting where he was about to reveal an important factor in solving this buck-wild case. A calling card was found at the residence, the sigil of their misdeeds. Just when the mystery was about to unravel, the threads gave way to a bigger problem: Did the Phantom Thieves cause the very shutdowns everyone was trying to escape?

Swiftly, the media capitalised. Labelling them as criminals, demanding their arrest. Everything shifted so quickly & she was caught up by the egregious claims of both sides. There was one thing for certain: The Phantoms Thieves had killed someone and regardless of their previous deeds, they needed to be brought to justice.

Naturally, the first viable suspect she found was Yusuke Kitagawa.

He was of the eccentric sort, gaining a scholarship through art. Everything the strange man did was usually for the sake of ‘ Finding true beauty! ’, which was slightly melodramatic. Before Madarame’s case, he was fixated on art singularly. Now? He seemed to have other priorities. Whenever someone would discuss the Phantom Thieves in an art lesson, there was a glimmer in his eye & the paintbrush that had been on the canvas stopped in order to listen in.

A victim of Madarame’s plagiarism, which gave a plausible motive. Despite this, nothing was concrete. She thought about her friend, Akechi. Was this how he solved crimes?

Obviously, the next step was to follow Yusuke around. Sneaking around was rather easy, all she had ever been known as by the student populace was ‘ the girl who was friends with Akechi! ’, so standing out was not much of a problem. There was not much abnormal. Despite being somewhat of a social outcast, he had a small circle of friends. Six in total.

Five of them were clearly wearing the Shujin Academy uniform on the day she spotted them. One was tall in stature with fluffy black hair & thick framed glasses. Reserved in nature but he always appeared to have some sort of witty comeback. Soon he became known as Akira.

Another one was a blonde, around the same height. He wore the uniform much like a delinquent alongside a yellow graphic tee. Obnoxiously loud, as it was never difficult to hear what he was saying even from far away. The person closest to him was Ann. She had platinum blonde hair tied back into pigtails & features of an American.

Makoto was next. Clearly more of a calculating type, she wore the uniform immaculately. Wearing her hair in a French-braid styled headband, she had maroon coloured eyes & was around average height. Most of the time, she was commenting on the boy’s behaviour.

Haru Okumura was someone recognisable due to the news about her father’s death, which was saddening. In her uniform, she wore a fluffy pink turtleneck alongside white tights with flower patterns.

Futaba was just as strange as Yusuke. She used a mixture of gamer jargon whenever she spoke and was never seen in a uniform. About middle school age, she carried around a set of headphones everywhere that regularly rested atop her maple coloured hair.

Stuffed inside of Akira’s bag was also a cat that they tried to hide. Key word: Tried. Six of them & a cat.

They frequented a local cafe in Shibuya, LeBlanc. It was a nice location & she had even gone in there once to listen in. Boss was kind, to say the least. He served coffee with a warm smile & the curry combined perfectly enough to encourage a smile out of her.

On a Friday, the cafe was busy. They had gathered at one table & chatted casually. Most of them looked forelorn. Akira eventually gestured for them to take the conversation outside, where they would disturb fewer people.

Following behind them, she paid Boss & followed, attempting to seem casual. They never noticed. Conspicuously trailing into an alleyway, Ryuji pulled out his phone. Listening in was difficult so she opted to pull out her own phone and record. One of them, presumably Akira, simply said “ Mementos. ”.

Mementos. That singular word triggered something & changed everything. As the world began to violently shift in a strange phenomena, hues of vermillion & mauve dotted her vision. It was hypnotic. Eventually, she snapped out of the trance.

Concealed by masks & flashy outfits were the suspicious group she had been following. It was blatantly obvious by their hair colours. However, the animated cat creature was a surprise. It was reminiscent of the cat Akira carried around but even stranger was that it talked. Then it turned into a bus. Which did not seem all that strange.

Inherently familiar with their environment, they sped off down the escalator, leaving her alone with her thoughts. There were so many reds & greys. Thick red veins ran through the sides in mangled forms. The wall behind her was dilapidated & the only way to proceed was the escalator in front of her.

A fatal mistake, really.

Recalling the details of the awakening are fuzzy at best. These lumbering creatures formed entirely out of shadow began to take notice of her unwanted presence. Cornered, desperate and alone. Insurmountable pain; the voice of someone almost familiar; then freedom & rebellion.

With the pact of her Persona, everything was clearer. Life had previously moved in rhetorical patterns, it was now a whimsical dance. Eliminating the so called enemies with a weapon in hand, she eventually found a way back to the surface. The door at the beginning looked to be a way out, so she threw caution to the wind & took the chance.

Fatigue came first in this dingy alleyway. Adrenaline had been fuelling the push to leave alongside her newly granted power and once that was gone, nothing would spare her from raw exhaustion. Checking her phone in the hopes of finding evidence, the video taken was still there, though it cut off as soon as anyone disappeared.

Even without evidence, she knew that this group was doing something illicit. So she texted the one person she trusted with this secret: Goro Akechi. He was a detective, surely he would have answers.

;; I must speak with you in person as soon as possible. It’s regarding the Phantom Thieves, I have some evidence for you. You’re investigating them, correct?

Knowing full well that Akechi lived a busy life, she did not expect a response for a while. After gathering the strength to stand once again, she headed home. It was the most exhausting experience ever, physically & emotionally. A few minutes after returning home, there was a response from Akechi.

I am indeed investigating them. If you have any evidence regarding them, would it not be more convenient for me to receive it via text? ;;

;; Yes, it would be, but I can barely even believe the evidence presented to me. It’s better for you to see it for yourself. Are you attending school tomorrow?

Indeed I am. Pulling away from the public eye has benefits. If you are free during lunch, we can meet on the rooftop and discuss the supposed evidence that you have found. Does that sound like a compromise? ;;

;; Alright. I’ll see you on the rooftop tomorrow.

The next day was filled with trepidation. Everyone seemed to be mulling about & with how slowly the clock was moving, it was if the school was in a state of chronostasis. Although she did not share many classes with Akechi, there had been a moment where she saw a mop of hazelnut brown hair amongst a crowd, so he was likely to be there.

Sitting on the rooftop alone was slightly boring but she understood why he was late. Every time lunch began, Akechi would be surrounded by people who wanted his attention. It must have been rather annoying.

5. 10. 15. Minutes ticked by. During the winter, it was exceptionally cold so not a single soul came up. The chilly winter breeze nipped at her skin & for a moment she wondered if it was Akechi that she had seen. The brown hair easily could have been mistaken—

The creak of the door announced his presence. With a formal apology, he recalled how his teachers were intent on swarming him with catch up work that he would inevitably never complete. Dismissing it all & moving along with the subject, Akechi got straight to the point:

“ What was it you wished to speak to me about? ”, he asked.

“ I believe I have ascertained the identities of the Phantom Thieves, ” was the only reply she gave.

Looking astounded, he shifted his glove via force of habit & looked directly at her.

“ That’s quite the bold claim, ” he returned to a neutral expression as the mask of the Detective Prince slipped back on, “ Do you have any evidence? ”.

Recalling the story to the best of her ability was tedious. From the suspicious behaviour Yusuke had been demonstrating to the video evidence taken from her phone. Throughout the entire story, he maintained a neutral expression so she was never quite sure what to think.

“ Usually, I would disregard such stories as a strange dream or a vision you had & declare your footage as edited. However, I have... also had an encounter in this strange phenomena as well. ”

Everything began to make more sense as it was explained. Akechi rattled off about the cognitive world, Palaces, Personas & even how ‘ stealing someone’s heart ’ was possible. He explained that his plan was to lend the Phantom Thieves a hand in their next assignment & catch them in the very act. Specifically, their leader.

“ That explains a lot. Let me help you. I have a Persona as well & I can fight in that other world. I want to bring the Phantom Thieves to justice. They killed Okumura & many others if they are the ones behind the mental shutdowns. Tampering with the heart of another is wrong... ”

“... Alright. I suppose it will make things easier if it is the two of us. I hope you are a very good actor,” Akechi extended a reluctant hand for her to shake. His gaze was calculated, cold. Much different from his tone of voice. However, she took his hand & shook it.

With that, a contract was signed. Both herself & the detective would bring about the end of the Phantom Thieves.

Word Count: 1.9k

Publish Date: 27.09.20

[renxamamiya]

Theatre of Mirrors - The Empress Theatre Part 2

This took me a month plus and 20k+ words LMAOOOOOOO. I’m trying a lot of things in this chapters, including writing a fight scene and taking feedback into account.

Special shout out to @rui-the-galax-angel and @digifangirl97 for helping me with this!!!!

Also please check out the fic on AO3 here!

I’ve also added notes on certain things at the bottom of the chapter, so please read them!

“Is that Goro-?”

“He’s alive!?”

Ren and Joker gasped as they both stared at the same monitor, stunned that the brown-haired detective was alive, disbelief in their expression as they mirrored each other: wide eyes, mouth hung agape, exhaling gentle yet purposed breaths. Both Ren and Joker blinked, Ren shifted in his seat to get a better look, Joker leaned on the console table as he looked closer at the projected image in front of them, seeing their Phantom Thieves going through their shared bewilderment. Neither of them made a sound.

“Is he a...?” Ren trailed off after a long silence, turning to ask his shadow who was observing the detective with careful eyes. Joker gently shook his head in response, an amused half-smile slowly appearing on his lips, barely making eye contact with Ren as he continued to stare at the screen in awe. Goro was here. The invitation he sent, the one he thought would be the only one which would fall on deaf ears, instead called his Crow back to him once more. Though he did not dare show it to Ren, he felt elated at the sight of his rival, alive, well, and scowling at his friends.

Yet this small joyous moment of his did not last. He felt himself suddenly getting tired as he spotted Ren’s eyes gleaming with newfound hope at the sight of Goro. Joker hid his sneer as he got up from his leaned position, standing up, gloved hands tucked back into his pockets. He hated that look of optimism in his other’s eyes, wanting to snuff it out right there and then, but he stopped himself. No; his plan would suffice enough to allow him to slowly crush that hope Ren held; and more, he reminded himself. He turned on his heel, walking out of the room. Ren noticed him leave; before he could utter a word his shadow had slammed the door shut to his prison, not bothering to lock the door as darkness all but swallowed him, the sounds of chorused chatter of the cognitive guests the only thing keeping him company.

Joker snapped his fingers as he continued his stride, an audible click echoed the room. Two shadows belonging to his twisted theatre erupted from the floor to join him as he reached for the door leading to the rest of the building pausing only for a moment to converse with the shadows followed obediently.

“Now, remember the script,” he ordered the both, impatience in his tone as he pulled the door open, wind rushing towards him, gently ruffling his messy hair and flapping his tailed coat. He turned to look over his shoulder, a golden eye glinting murderously at them as he wore a serious expression, “This needs to go perfectly. If you fail, I’ll make sure to kill you as painfully as possible, you understand?”

“Yes, boss.” they both replied in unison. Joker’s stern expression melted at their reply, now grinning wildly with anticipation, his heart starting to beat rapidly with a newfound thrill, blossoming into a crescendo, feeling the tips of his fingers beating with anticipation as he found himself drowning from the thumping of his own excitement. He turned to look down the bland hallway before him, eyes narrowing, vision sharp as he inhaled a deep, deep breath. On exhale he promptly stepped forwards, another he broke into a run, focusing only towards him, his vision tunnelling as he heard his lackey’s footsteps behind him.

“It’s showtime!” he thought to himself, laughing out loud with thrill as his performance commenced.

---

"Akechi-senpai, you're alive!"

Goro heard Sumire before he saw her, the redheaded gymnast wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into a sudden, affectionate hug. He squirmed instinctively in her embrace, not used to displays of affection, and not used to ones that involve touch.

“Yoshizawa.” he growled, hoping that his unamused tone would give her the hint he needed to attain freedom from her grip, yet she did not loosen her grip around him, “Get. Off.”

“Oh, sorry,” Sumire mutters as she lets Goro go, hiding her hands behind her back as she looks away from him. Her face flushed slightly red, obviously embarrassed by the impulsive hug she had given him.

“I’m so sorry, Akechi-senpai.” she apologizes, moving her hands to her side as she gave him a formal bow, “I’m so sorry. I was just happy to see you.”

“Yo Akechi, is that really you?” Ryuji inquired, looking at him sceptically as he places his hands casually on his hips, “Or are you just a cognition?”

“I can assure you that I’m no such thing.” Akechi said, closing his eyes as his face contorted to an expression of great offense, “To think of me being here as nothing more than a figment of Amamiya’s cognition...”

“If you’re not cognition, then why are you here?” Ann said, her and Futaba now with the rest of the group, staring at him suspiciously, “Are you trying to kill Ren again?”

“More importantly, if you are indeed alive, then what have you been doing all this time?” Yusuke inquires, stepping towards the former detective, Goro looking at them, unamused.

“I do not have to answer the latter question, nor do I want to.” Goro said, clearly annoyed by Yusuke’s prying question, “As for answering Takamaki’s question: I’m simply here for curiosity’s sake.”

“You mean you have the app as well?” Makoto asks. Goro’s head snaps towards her, his eyes widening in astonishment, “With the strange notification, correct?”

“So, you’ve gotten it too?” Goro queried rhetorically, yet all of them answered with a single nod. He pursed his lips, furrowing his brows in thought as he looked down at the carpeted floor, “It makes sense for you all to be here. But why-”

“Hey, where’s Mona?” Futaba whispered, poking her head from behind the rest of the group as Goro continued to mutter to himself, “I don’t see him anywhere.”

“Mona?” Haru said, perplexed by Futaba’s question, yet a second later she realised that the feline was nowhere within the group, “Wait, has anyone seen Morgana? I thought he was with us?”

“I dunno, I was with Futaba the whole time.” Ann said, looking at both the faux blonde and the fluffy-haired girl, “I mean, I thought he was with you guys. You did go up before us after all.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t see him, he must have run off somewhere.” Ryuji sighed, reflexively kicking the floor in frustration and disappointment, “That cat’s always runnin’ off somewhere. I guess we should find him before he runs into trouble again.”

"I think I saw Morgana-senpai run that way." Sumire said, pointing to where the cognitions were congregating, no doubt to head to the numerous auditoriums that were located within the Palace, "I didn’t see clearly though, he ran by me so fast."

"It's as good of a lead as any," Makoto said, ignoring Ryuji's string of curses towards their missing teammate. She walked a couple of steps, all the other thieves following her casually, but noticed Goro still in contemplative thought, one his hands cupped his chin while another held his phone.

"Akechi, aren't you coming with us?"

Goro looked up, red eyes gazing into her own.

"Me?"

"Yeah, him?" Ryuji asked in earnest, which resulted in him getting elbowed sharply in the chest by Ann, "Hey, what was that for!?"

“You can’t say stuff like that in front of people!” Ann exclaimed, annoyed by Ryuji’s boldness towards Goro, eyebrows crossed in an angry expression, “Besides, we have no idea what’s in this place. I don’t like the idea too, but we have strength in numbers, and we can keep an eye on him if he tries to do something to Ren.”

“Thank you, Takamaki, but I’ll be fine on my own.” Goro said, resisting the urge to grimace at Ryuji and Ann’s words (though he was not surprised in the slightest in the fact that they did not trust him), “I’ve had more than enough experience in combat to take care of myself. That, and we’re obviously not considered as threats. I doubt that whatever’s happening to your leader, will in turn put any of us in immediate danger.”

“Still, it’s still an awful thought for you to get left behind.” Haru said, although she did not sound too eager with the prospect of Goro coming along to find their furry friend, “Even if it’s you...”

“As I said-”

“Please, Goro-senpai?” Sumire pleads, giving Goro the biggest puppy-eyes she could muster as he turned to look at her, her bottom lip quivering, trying to evoke sympathy from within the detective, “Please? We haven’t seen you for a long time, and I know you really want to come with us...”

Goro looks at Sumire, his expression firm and unreadable, his gaze piercing, yet the girl continues to pout. The rest of the group looked at each other, not knowing how to break the tension between the two of them, waiting for either Sumire to succeed in her attempt to convince Goro, or for Goro to win in his efforts to further distance himself from the group.

The victor was decided when Goro broke his gaze, sighing deeply in defeat while Sumire smiled and cheered in triumph.

“Thank you, senpai!” Sumire grins, going in for another hug, only to be stopped by Goro’s hesitant scowl.

“I’m doing this only for you, Yoshizawa.” Goro muttered under his breath, though he can’t help but smile a bit when he saw her growth in confidence over the last year and a half. He turned to look at Makoto, “Lead the way, Queen.”

“With pleasure.” Makoto huffed, trying not to get worked up by his use of her codename, seemingly brushing it off as she resumed her pace towards the inner area of the foyer.

It did not take the group long for them to spot Morgana. He stood still as cognitions passed by, some of them muttering happily as they noticed the feline gazing upon something. A few steps more passed the crowd of cognitive people did they find what he was looking at.

“Is that?” Ann gasps, looking upon the fountain statue of Joker. The glint of the gold that accented its mask and buttons and eyes sent a shiver down her spine, its grin, smug and sinister, unsettled her, and she dare not make eye contact with the gaudy decoration. The others shared her uncomfortable reaction, a loss for words as to why such a decoration would be displayed all to see. They knew Ren, knew how he acted, knew the confidence he held in himself, yet did not associate him with the apparent narcissism they were currently gazing upon.

Morgana’s ears twitched, sensing the others as they approached behind him, turning to greet them with a sombre expression as he stood in front of the fountain.

“I think this was where Ren was caught.” Morgana informed the group, yet no one in the group found any comfort with this information, “I saw some commotion around here until I got thrown out by those shadows.”

“Where could they have taken him?” Haru asks, yet she knew Morgana’s answer, “Could he possibly be somewhere deeper in the Palace?”

“He has to be.” Morgana said, turning to look up towards the top of the twin stairwells, “I don’t know how to explain it, but I can feel him somewhere up there, calling for us.”

“Futaba, can you check if that’s the case?” Makoto asks the girl. Futaba snaps back into attention, the fountain statue previously lulling her into a trance. She looks at Makoto with a dazed expression, blinking several times as she tries to grasp what she had said to her.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that, Queen.” she confesses, Makoto sighs.

“Can you confirm that Ren’s somewhere in his Palace?” Makoto again asks her, though she could not help but send a sympathetic expression towards the girl. The man that had helped her free herself from the shackles of her distortions was now trapped from his own, and admittedly, none of the thieves have yet fully come to terms with the formation of Ren’s Palace.

“Oh yeah, why didn’t I think about that,” Futaba said, abruptly squatting down as she puts her laptop on the carpeted floor. She opened it, her device flicking to life, and started to type rapidly on it, focused on her task, “It’s gonna take a while for me to find him.” she informed the rest of the group, raising her voice slightly to be heard above the chatter of the cognitions around her, “Though I can tap into the Palace to get a look at the place, I can’t exactly pinpoint him with ease without my Persona.”

“That’s alright.” Makoto said, “We can work on finding him once we get a rough idea as to where he’s located.”

“Hey Yusuke, you’ve been really quiet since we’ve entered the Palace.” Haru said, looking at the blue-haired artist with concern "Are you okay?"

"Hm? Oh. I am, thank you for your concern, Haru." Yusuke smiles, "I'm sorry if I caused any worry, I was simply marvelling the architecture of the Palace. It's simply beautiful"

"But isn't that weird? I mean this is Ren's Palace after all." she said with concern, a hand pulling back a strand of her hair as she continued, "I mean, it's nice here but, I don't really see how it could be considered 'beautiful'."

"That's okay, I understand completely that finding an aspect of Ren's distortions 'beautiful' is less than savoury; however, I do marvel at the detailing of the architecture especially. It certainly has a lot of Western influences. Definitely matches his more Western interpretation of a rebel."

"Like the 'Gentlemen Thief' persona huh?" Haru mutters, "That makes sense. After all, Arsene does wear a top hat."

"Precisely." Yusuke said, "Details like that do put a smile on my face."

"Well, I guess you can say-"

The screams of cognitions from the floor above interrupts their conversation, all the thieves snapping their heads to see the guests fleeing from above, down the twin stairs in a desperate panic in order to run from an unseen danger. Blue flames suddenly erupted from each of the members, exposed skin and fabric alike replaced with their iconic thief outfits, another flash across their eyes placed their masks as their forgotten powers and Personas electrified their veins.

“Shit!” Ryuji exclaimed in surprise at the sudden eruption, tightly gripping his mallet, already anticipating a fight. The rest of the thieves sans Goro immediately sprung into a fighting stance, readying their weapons as they grouped together, prepared for whatever was causing the commotion upstairs. The only not in the front lines was Futaba, who was hoisted to safety by her Persona Al Azif, hovering above the group as she prepared to support them.

“It seems we were finally acknowledged,” Goro grumbles, yet he could not help but smirk at the idea of taking down the enemy approaching them. He unsheathed the serrated sword he used while in the Metaverse from his side, feeling the familiar echo of Hereward in his mind as the mask he adorned gleamed slickly in the light, “Finally. I was getting on edge with how   the atmosphere was.”

“Oracle, what are you seeing?” Makoto asked the girl, already springing quite comfortably into the lead role as Futaba typed rapidly across the different screens surrounding her from within her Persona, “Are there any dangerous shadows heading in our way?”

“Two of them. They’re pretty strong, but nothing we can’t handle.” Futaba informs Makoto, still tying away across her screens, her eyes flickering rapidly from one window to another, “They seem to be chasing something. Another shadow. A powerful one at that!”

“Why would they be chasing one of their own?” Yusuke muses as he readies his katana, his gloved hand resting delicately on the decorative hilt, “Unless-”

Two gunshots rang in the air, followed by the screams of the shadows, a blur of black and red suddenly appearing, sliding down rapidly from the polished stair rails while being pursued by two shadow guards, their head turned back as to keep an eye on their pursuers, yet they could see a smirk on their lips. Before the Phantom Thieves could realise who, the shadows were chasing, the figure turned towards them.

The gold and black mask. The red waistcoat. It was Ren’s shadow. He looked just like the fountain statue nestled between the twin stairs of the foyer. He landed in front of them with practised, familiar poise, turning around towards the shadows, gritting his teeth as he readied a knife the thieves found familiar.

“There’s the fugitive!” one of the shadow’s yelled, pointing to the golden-eyed thief as another indistinguishable shadow joined its side, “Help me snag him! The boss’ll have our heads if we keep lettin’ him run free around this place.”

“Ren-”

“Call me Joker, Queen.” he interrupts Makoto, turning back his head to give her a signature wink before turning back towards his assailants, the two shedding their suits to reveal a Dionysus, Titania and Oberon, all ready to attack, “I know you all have questions right now. I’ll explain later, but first you have to help me with taking these guys out.”

Makoto nods at Joker, agreeing with his commands as she readies her mask. The shadows jumped towards Joker, the Dionysus charging with electricity, static climbing across his multicoloured arm.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Morgana shouts, lunging forward towards the shadow as he summons his Persona, “It’s payback time! Diego, Miracle Rush!”

The Persona erupts from behind the cat, a strong, dashing, masked man with a comically tall moustache and long black cape appeared surrounded by blue flames. A single swish of his sword was enough to summon multiple golden boxing gloves supported by springs that aimed at the shadows. They reeled in back, and then suddenly sprang into action, punching the Dionysus square in the jaw and knocking it off its feet, but unfortunately missing the other two shadows in its company.

“Nice shot, Mona.” Ryuji compliments the cat as he rushes forward, assisting the feline with his enemy, readying the large mallet on his side, “But you missed the other two, might want to work on your aim.”

“I’m rusty-!” Morgana squeaks, looking at his friend with an offended expression as Ryuji brought the mallet down on the shadow, sending it straight down onto the floor, “What about you huh, you’re gonna just let the shadow get up?”

“Huh, you got a point.” Ryuji said, and went on to summon his Persona, dramatically gripping his hand onto his metallic mask, “Alright, William! Give this guy a hand. A God’s Hand to be exact!”

As soon as he did so the mask burst dramatically into the same blue flames, licking harmlessly on Ryuji’s face, rising to conjure a figure beside him. His Persona, dressed in a black and white hood, a skeletal face with its eyes behind red goggles rode atop a yacht triumphantly, conjured a fist out of nowhere, propelled by what looked like a rocket, dancing circles above its target’s head before slamming right down on top of it, injuring the shadow further.

“Skull, that was terrible.” Morgana sighs, frowning at his friend’s pun as he readies his cutlass to strike the incapacitated shadow

“Aww don’t be such a moaner, Mona.” Ryuji chuckles, Morgana ignoring the blonde as he strikes the shadow, “I’m just havin’ fun!”

“Skull, I know these shadows are nothing but total squishies, but you still gotta be careful.” Futaba buzzes through their ears, Al Azif hovering away a safe distance from the battlefield, “We can make terrible puns AFTER we’ve dealt with these shadows.”

“Hey, my puns are not-”

He did not see Morgana dodge Dionysus's attack, only hearing the electricity from its Ziodyne attack before it was too late. His head turned at the sound of the wild crackle of electricity heading towards him. His eyes widened as the bolt connected, a section of the bolt diverged and struck the carpeted floor, causing him to be engulfed into a cloud of dust and smoke.

“Skull!” both Futaba and Morgana exclaimed, calling out for their friend in a panic. Morgana summons his Persona, commanding Diego to blow away the cloud of smoke that obstructed their view of Ryuji with a quick Garudyne, only to find him completely unharmed.

“I’m okay!” Ryuji yells out, waving out to them to attract their attention, “Barely even touched me, you on the other hand.” he said as he almost sneered towards Morgana.

“Hey guys, you can fight all you want later, right now you’ve got a shadow to toast.” Futaba hisses at the two, reminding them of their situation as Dionysus charges for another attack, “Another Ziodyne coming towards your six!”

Both Ryuji and Morgana exchange brief sour expressions towards one another, before shifting their focus towards the enemy before them. --- The Oberon thrusts its sword forward towards Joker, the boy sidestepping each time it swipes towards him, golden eyes carefully observing his opponent as another swipe of the shadow’s sword barely misses him. Makoto readies into position, resting her hand on her mask as she instinctively climbs on the Persona that appeared beneath her.

“Agnes, hit it with an Atomic Flare!” she said to her Persona, and Agnes complied, a ball of blue aura appeared in front of the attacking shadow, growing before independently detonating in the shadow’s face. However, the Oberon dodged it with ease, escaping the otherwise effective attack.

“Dammit!” she whispered harshly under her breath as Ann went in to strike the Oberon, uncoiling her whip as she swung it, a sharp ‘thwack’ echoed as she struck the Oberon on the face.

“How dare you strike me!” the shadow hissed, swinging its sword towards her only to be stopped by Joker’s dagger. The weapons clashed. And they clashed again, Joker slowly driving the attacking shadow back as Makoto readies another attack.

“Agnes, Atomic Flare!” Makoto commanded her Persona again, the same blue orb appearing to engulf the Oberon, but the attack yet again missed as the Oberon evaded it.

“Queen, got any ideas to stop this shadow from moving so much?” Ann hisses as she ducks a swipe from Oberon’s sword, “We could really use some help right now!”

“Maybe slowing it down would help?” Joker said out loud before parrying multiple slashes of the shadow’s sword with his gun and knife, “I don’t have any ice skills on me. Maybe we should call over-”

“We don’t need Fox. I have an idea, just follow what I say!” Makoto instructed her teammates, Joker and Ann both nodded at her with acknowledgement as they continued to dodge the wild attacks of the shadow.

“Joker, aim your shots at its wings!” Makoto instructed Joker. He raised his gun and pulled the trigger.

“Panther, get ready to cast Agidyne on the Oberon!” Makoto yells towards Ann, who nodded in acknowledgement, her gloved hand resting on her mask as she readies herself.

A shot from Joker’s gun rang out, and another, and another. two of the three bullets managing to tear through the thin membrane of the shadow’s left wing, the shadow howling in pain. Joker aimed carefully; a single bullet left in the magazine of his gun. He looked down at the sight of his pistol. He aimed at the Oberon, who was hovering in the air, wobbling back and forth in pain from its injury. He squeezed the trigger.

Bang!

The last bullet tore through the shadow’s wing. The Oberon cried in pain as it floated down, its injuries too great to keep itself airborne.

“Now Panther!” Makoto shouted. With a quick shout of her Persona’s name, Ann summons Célestine behind her, the avatar of her heart standing tall, nonchalantly blowing a piece of gum as the overhead light reflects from her glasses.

“Agidyne!” Ann ordered her Persona, and Célestine lifted her hand towards the crippled shadow. Heat gathered beneath it, and before it could react, a tower of fire erupted from the fire, consuming the shadow, leaving it with embers still singeing its skin.

---

“Ella, use Kougaon!” Sumire said to the bride like Persona behind her, Ella responded by summoning a pillar of white light to strike Titania, the shadow grunting in pain as she took the attack. Yusuke followed up with a swipe from his sword, yet the fairy-like shadow managed to dodge him with ease.

“Psiodyne!” Haru shouted, her Persona, Lucy, towered behind her, one hand holding an elegant looking briefcase while another one held its masquerade like glasses in front of where its face would be, summoned forward pink swirling circles with colours accenting them towards the shadow. Titania managed to evade her attack, retaliating with its own spell as it casts Freidyne.

“Noir, watch out!”  Sumire shouted after her, Haru trying her best to escape from the Nuclear-based elemental attack, yet the blue ball persistently followed wherever she went. It was Yusuke who had saved her, pushing her out of the way just as the nuclear ball exploded, taking the brunt of the attack. He grunted audibly, Haru’s eyes widening in alarm.

“Yusuke are you okay?” she asked the artist. Yusuke responded with a smile, standing from his previously hunched position.

“I’m fine,” he reassured her, “the damage I received was less than anticipated.”

“But you still took damage, are you sure you’re-”

“We haven’t the time to worry about injuries!” Goro hissed at the both as he spots the hands of the Titania glow green. He sprints forward, his sword held by his left hand as his right clasps his mask. He cries out wildly for Hereward, and the black, bow-wielding Persona erupted behind him, an arrow pulled back as it readies for Goro’s command.

“Hereward, Laevateinn!” he commanded his Persona, Hereward complying as it lets go of the strung arrow. A sword descended onto the Titania, a lucky strike by Goro as it tumbled down onto the ground, its healing spell interrupted.

“Regroup, everyone!” Futaba instructed the Phantom Thieves, all of them listening to their navigator as they jumped back into a defensive position, their various ranged weapons all pointed towards the downed shadows.

“W-wait!” The Oberon shrieks as the embers on its body continue to injure it, “Please, don’t kill us!”

“Yes, please, we were just following orders!” Titania said, whimpering on the floor, her hands curled on the carpeted floor.

“Yeah right!” Ryuji said, cocking the barrel of his shotgun, aiming his sights towards the wounded fairy, “Orders from who? Certainly not our friend Joker here, you practically attacked him!”

“Well… He-”

“Alright, I’ve had enough of them.” Morgana said, clearly annoyed by the situation as he held his slingshot ready, “Everyone, it’s All-Out Attack time!”

Before the shadows could utter another word all the thieves pounced towards them, weapons out and ready. Each thief took turns slashing at the enemies, a flurry of attacks as the sound of weapons echoed throughout the hall. Joker dealt the last swipe, a clean cut through the three of the shadows, before he flipped backwards, away from them.

A second passed, and soon a black ooze erupted from each of the three shadows before their bodies evaporated into thin air.

Joker scanned the rest of the foyer, readying his weapon as the others put away theirs, his back towards them, senses still alert as adrenaline still flowed through his veins. Al Azif descends slightly down towards the floor before allowing Futaba to gracefully float down to join the rest of her friends before dissipating, blue flames gently caressed her face as her Persona became her mask. They stared at Joker, watching him anticipate yet another attack. No additional shadows came, and he stood up, his shoulders relaxing, and he tucked away his weapons before he turned to face them, golden eyes staring at them. He smiles gently at them.

“Hello, everyone.” he greets.

“Ren… is that-”

“Ren!” Morgana cried out, interrupting Ann as he rushed towards him, arms wide to embrace him with open arms. Before the masked thief could properly react to Morgana, the bipedal feline jumped, and Joker caught him instinctively.

“Ren! Ren, I was soooooo worried!” Morgana said as he hugged Joker, burying his face affectionately in his chest. Joker returned Morgana’s hug, petting the feline with his free hand as Morgana purred audibly, “I’m sorry for interrupting you Lady Ann!” he continued to shout, trying to sound apologetic despite his joyful tone conveying otherwise, “But I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“But isn’t that senpai’s shadow?” Sumire points out, her expression guilty as she feels as though her observation had spoiled the moment between the two, “I’m sorry for being so rude, but we shouldn’t trust him-”

“Yoshizawa’s right.” Goro agrees with her, eyeing Joker carefully beneath the red filters of his mask, “Like it or not this is not the Amamiya you know and love, but an ugly, distorted version of him.”

“Am I really that-” Joker started, reflexively responding to the comment with an air of jest, yet when his shining, golden eyes met Goro’s hauntingly red ones he stopped himself, mouth still open, hanging agape. Silence fell between the two, Goro looking at Joker closely, his face expressionless, eyes narrowed in contemplation and suspicion as Joker looked at him with stunned disbelief.

“Crow, you’re-”

“Alive? Yes, I am.” Goro said, not taking his eyes off the shadow, “And you’re a shadow. Now, tell us where Ren is so we can get on our way, thank you.”

“He’s still Ren, even if he’s his shadow.” Ann huffs, her tone of voice clearly irritated by Goro’s total rejection of Joker, walking up to the shadow’s side, “Besides. Him helping us still means that Ren’s not only here, but his shadow can help us rescue him, right?”

“Yes, you’re right, Panther,” Joker nods, “I’ll be more than happy to help, and please, call me Joker.”

“Why? Do you prefer to be called that? I’m so sorry if I-”

“It’s okay, Panther.” he smiles reassuringly, touched by Ann’s kindness in accommodating his request so readily, “And yes. Though I am his shadow and should share his name, I am more comfortable with using Joker.”

“Note taken, now come here, Joker!” she exclaimed, running to join in with Morgana’s hug, wrapping her arms around his neck in affection, “Even if you’re Ren’s shadow, we’re still so glad to see you!”

“Yeah, we were so worried when we saw you had a Palace,” Ryuji said, walking to rest a comforting hand on Joker’s shoulder, “So it’s good to see you here and well buddy, and we’ll deffo help in stealing your treasure and easing your distorted heart.”

“And I’m glad to see you, Skull.” Joker smiles at his long-time friend, “If there’s anyone who can help me get rid of the distortions of my heart, it’ll be you.”

“I am happy to be here.” Yusuke smiles, walking up to stand next to Joker, the close proximity he stood next to his friend’s shadow enough to ease his heart, “Though it is unfortunate that you… our friend… have a Palace, we are honoured to be here if only to untangle the distortions that have brought this theatre in the first place.”

“And it’s nice to see you too, Fox.” Joker laughed, clearly amused by how flowery Yusuke’s language was.

“Joker!” Futaba yells, running towards him and wrapping her arms around his torso from his side, “Joker you’re okay! You’re really okay!”

“Well, ‘okay’ is putting Joker’s situation quite mildly,” Haru laughs as she joins the thieves in greeting their leader’s doppelganger, “But I have to agree with everyone, seeing you here with us, even if this is your Palace. ”

“Does the idea of me having a Palace really make you uncomfortable, Haru?” Joker asks her, eyebrows knitted as he looks at her with concern, “You can always leave if you’d like, Noir. I won’t judge you; it must be hard considering...”

“Yes, it does.” Haru answers for him, yet the spark of resolve she had in her eyes did not flicker as she looked in his golden ones, “But I promised only the others, but also myself, to be strong for you, and to help you in any way I can in getting rid of your distortions.”

Joker smiled at her, touched by her kind words.

“Thank you, Noir, I’ll be counting on you then.”

“She’s not the only one you can count on.” Makoto said, as she walked towards him, “I don’t think it’s far-fetched to assume that all of us here are more than willing to lend you their assistance should you need it, Joker. We are here to help heal your distorted heart, after all.”

“But what if I just want a kiss from my advisor.” Joker cooed at her. A blush slightly reddened Makoto’s face as she coughed, tucking a stray hair behind her ear as she cleared her throat.

“I’m sure, I can accommodate that request of yours,” she said confidently, yet the blush on her cheeks grew a deeper red. She leaned in, gently caressing his free shoulder, and gave him a peck on the cheek, Joker grinning delightfully as his golden eyes twinkled brightly with joy.

“A peck on the cheek is all I get?” he said, mockingly pouting at her, “But I thought you were here to ease my distorted heart.”

“We can kiss more when we steal your treasure; besides, the others are...” Makoto trails off, the mention of the other thieves reddens her face more in embarrassment, Joker giving her a toothy smile, only deepening the flush on her face.

“Okay, if you insist, my Queen. I’ll hold you to that promise.”

Someone audibly clears their throat. Joker looks past the group of friends that surrounded him to see Sumire standing in the middle of the foyer, her body tense, her legs straight, the girl grabbing her arms as she looks down on the floor with a saddened expression. He lightly shook his shoulders, his friends stepped away from him, Joker put down Morgana, and he walked towards her.

He stopped in front of her, not speaking a word, looking at her sympathetically yet allowed Sumire to converse with him when she was willing to.

“I’m sorry, for doubting you, Senpai.” she apologised, stepping back from her previous spot as she gave him a formal bow.

“Violet, you have nothing to be sorry about.” Joker smiles at her, slightly amused by her formality towards him, “In all honesty, you all have the excuse of being wary of me. Most of the shadows we’ve encountered were pretty hostile after all.”

“Like mine.” Futaba mutters to herself.

“But there are kind shadows, right? Shadows who just want help from us to steal their treasure, to return to normal. They exist, do they?”

“Yes.” Joker laughs, and Sumire couldn’t help but smile herself.

“Then…” she trails off, before throwing herself towards Joker, arms wide, Joker catching her with ease as she hugged him with all her strength.

“Violet, you’re hurting me.” Joker wheezed as Sumire squeezed her arms around him, and Sumire freed him from her embrace, apologising profusely.

“Oh, by the way,” Futaba said to the group, “While you guys were fighting, I picked up a signal that’s unusual to what you normally find in the Metaverse. I think it’s Ren.”

“You found where Ren’s being held?” Haru inquired the navigator, Futaba, shaking her head.

“Probably.” Futaba said, a frown on her face, pulling out a general map of the Palace to the rest of the group, a green blip pulsating on what looked to be the top of the cognitive building, “This is the signal that I found. It’s unusual for sure, the signal unlike any shadow or cognition we’ve ever encountered, and certainly not the treasure-”

“Oh right, the treasure!” Ryuji exclaims, interrupting Futaba, who reacted with an annoyed expression. “You got anything about the treasure, Futaba?”

“Remember, codenames, Skull.”  Futaba warned her teammate, “And as for the treasure....”

She trails off. The others stared at her, waiting for her to continue.

“Oracle?” Makoto said, walking slowly towards her, “Oracle, you okay?”

“...Um…”

“There’s no treasure, is there?” Goro interrupted. All the thieves snap their heads to look at him, shock and disbelief on their faces except for Futaba, Joker and Goro, “At least, the treasure has yet not materialised.”

“Wait, no treasure, are you crazy!?” Ann stammered, clearly uncomfortable and confused by this revelation.

“Yeah, every Palace we’ve encountered has a treasure!” Ryuji said hysterically, “What do you mean this Palace ‘doesn’t have a treasure’!?”

“I……. I…...I….”

“...I think we should discuss this somewhere else.” Joker informed the others, stepping in to protect Futaba from the bewildered Phantom Thieves, “I know a safe place. Follow me.”

---

The shadow led his friends up to the above floor via one of the twin stairs, cognitive guests staring at them as they followed Joker up, whispering amongst each other with excitement and curiosity, yet Joker paid them no mind as the rest of the thieves could only try to ignore their presence.

They arrived on the first floor, the foyer one decorated differently compared to the entrance below. Soft lilac replaced the colour red on the carpets and curtains, pristine, white marble replaced where gold would be, shapes of different flora carved in the stone, accented by gold paint which glittered under the bright light from the chandeliers above. There stood four doors around the foyer that lead to what the thieves assumed to be separate auditoriums: two of them closed with golden number plaques next to them; the third one, sealed behind two tall doors, had the words ‘The Empress Theatre’ titled atop of them.

Joker gestured to a large booth, one of many that occupied the room along the walls, a white curtain made of linen used to give the privacy the thieves needed to discuss their plans, hiding them from curious eyes.

“After you.” he said, smiling as he held the curtain open. Futaba was the first one to go in, diving onto the seat before sliding inwards to allow Haru to follow her in. One by one they went into the booth, Morgana having to be picked up by Ann, not tall enough to reach for the seat, and sat on her lap as his head rested just above the small table in front of them.

“I’d rather not.” Goro said, the only still standing other than Joker, crossing his arms as he looked towards the booth with scorn.

“Why not?” Joker asks, tilting his head as he looks at the reluctant detective, “Don’t you trust me, Goro?”

“Do not call me that.” Goro snapped, and Joker flinched visibly, “And to answer your question: I don’t. I don’t trust you at all.”

“Akechi-senpai, it’s okay.” Sumire said, immediately going into Joker’s defence as she pokes her head out from where she was sitting, “He helped us, remember? I’m sure Joker-senpai would never hurt us. I mean… I trust him, and I think everyone does as well, and they have way more experience than I do.”

“Yeah, Akechi,” Ryuji said, also coming to Joker’s defence, “And this is Ren we’re talking about. I mean, sure it’s his shadow but isn’t like the shadow the something true self or something?”

The others nodded in agreement, Goro looking away, a cross expression on his face. There was a small amount of movement that caught the corner of his eye, and he looked up to see Joker himself sliding into the booth to join his friends.

“You can have the end spot if it makes you comfortable.” Joker smiled at Goro, and while he did not want to admit it, he was feeling slightly fatigued from the earlier fight. He took a moment of hesitation, staring at the spot next to Joker, and sighed before he complied with the shadow’s request.

“Now that we’re all here,” Makoto said, her eyes scanning the group as she spoke, “We need to discuss-”

“Can someone please pull the curtain,” Morgana said, an expression of disappointment on his face, “We’re not exactly in a safe room you know, have you guys forgotten everything I’ve taught you!?”

“I can do it if only I wasn’t stuck here.” Yusuke offered, gesturing to both Haru and Ryuji of either side of him. The thieves lightly bickered amongst each other; one person would offer to close the curtain if the other person moved, which would cause the other person to gesture to the person next to them. This cycle, absurd and tedious as it was, repeated until all eyes landed on Goro.

“Hm, you’re asking me to close the curtain?” Goro said, not bothering to hide his unamused expression towards the Phantom Thieves.

“Well Crow, you’re the only one who can actually get out of here.” Futaba points out, gesturing to the column piece that obstructed her path to freedom, “And everyone can’t exactly move out easily as well. You gotta do it bird brain.”

“Bird brain?!” Goro scoffs in both surprise and offence. He growled in anger, trying very hard not to retaliate at the girl sitting across him. He sighed, muttering ‘fine’ as he slid out of his seat, reaching for the curtain and gently pulling it across until it hid the group from view before sitting back down again.

“Okay… so now that’s out of the way, we need to discuss several things that are imperative to ensure this infiltration is successful,” Makoto said, addressing the group around her, “First of, we need to discuss who will lead the infiltration, seeing as Ren isn’t here.”

She turns to look at Joker.

“Can you lead us?” Makoto asks, Joker replies by shaking his head.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate,” he admits, Makoto giving him a confused look, “I’m a shadow. The shadow of Ren. While I do know the ins and outs of the Palace, I fear that if I were to lead you it’ll compromise the mission in some way. In addition, I think it’s best for you guys if you could plan strategies somewhere out of the Metaverse.” “That is true.” Makoto nods, “But if you’re not going to lead us then, who will?”

Joker simply smiles at Makoto. Her eyes widened, the deep blush on her cheeks from earlier flushed her cheeks.

“Y-you want me to lead?!” she stammers, Joker nodding in response, and Makoto swore she would have fainted right there and then.

“Of course.” Joker said, “Everyone trusts you, and you yourself have the necessary leadership skills. There’s no one who I trust more.”

Makoto laughs, Morgana exclaims with a ‘hey!’ at Joker as Ryuji rolls his eyes at what he’s witnessing before him.

“Geeze get a room you guys.” he groaned, yet there was no malice in his tone as Ann and Sumire snicker at his comment.

“If Makoto’s our leader, then it would be appropriate to elect ourselves someone to replace her in the advisory role.” Haru said, “I was thinking about Mona being our advisor since he’s more experienced than all of us when it comes to Metaverse stuff.”

“Well, I am knowledgeable with the Metaverse itself.” Morgana said smugly, crossing his arms as he holds his head out proudly, “And I did teach you all how to be the best thieves possible. Sure, I’ll gladly take on the advisory role.”

Goro rolled his eyes in annoyance, Joker noticed him do so, and he smiled in amusement.

“Great, now that’s out of the way, we need to now discuss our course of action in regard to our infiltration: how we will conduct it, where Ren is, why there is no treasure being detected, and if it does apply, when we need to invoke a change of heart.”

She turned to look at Joker, the shadow nodded in acknowledgement.

“As you all know, Ren’s been kidnapped by the shadows of this place.” Joker said, his gaze cast to everyone except Goro who sat right next to him, “He’s being held in the uppermost auditorium of the Palace: The Fool’s Theatre.”

“The Fool’s Theatre? I don’t like the sound of that.” Ann mumbled under her breath, a look of concern on her face.

“Why is it called the Fool’s Theatre?” Sumire queried Joker, her eyes glittering in perplexity. Joker shrugged; his expression confessed uncertainty.

“I don’t know.” he said, “But what I do know he’s kept there. I honestly think they caught him, thinking they were me. Apparently, I’m a nuisance in my own Palace, which is quite absurd if you think about it.”

“Then we should go there now.” Ryuji said, “You know, bust him out and stuff if it’s just at the top floor, no problem!”

“I’m afraid it’s not that easy.” Joker frowned at the blonde, wincing as he saw Ryuji’s enthusiasm falter a bit, “The doors to the auditorium itself are locked by special keys which are held by what they called the ‘Lead Actors’ that reside in special auditoriums. I would have entered the Fool’s Theatre myself, but it’s the only room which I can't even access.”

“And who are these, ‘Lead Actors’?” Goro asked the shadow, “What do they look like? And where are they located?”

“I… haven’t seen any of them, so I don’t even know what they look like.” Joker confessed to the group hesitantly, “But I’ve heard they reside in the auditoriums like that one-”

He gestures to the Empress Theatre on the floor.

“-and they seem to only open their doors to patrons who meet two special conditions.”

“How do you know this?”

Joker turns to Goro and smiles at him.

“Goro, I’m a thief, sneaking about and eavesdropping is what I do best!” he said. Goro only narrows his eyes slightly in response.

“And what are the two conditions, exactly?” Makoto inquired.

“The first condition-” he started as he turned to Makoto, “-is to watch the performances on each of the floors. For example, I heard that in order to gain permission to even get within the Empress Theatre, you must present a ticket with punch holes showing you’ve watched the two performances located within numbered halls.”

“Well, that’s easy enough,” Ryuji said, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs, Makoto ignoring them as Joker continued his explanation.

“The second condition is to enter the auditorium with the person who matches the Lead Actor.”

“Matches the lead actor?” Ann said, looking at Joker with confusion, “What does that even mean? And how are we gonna get in if we’ve never seen the actor before?”

“I suggest we concentrate on the theatre watching first,” Morgana said, crossing his arms, easily slipping into the advisory role he’s been assigned. He turned to Joker, “Joker, do you have any idea how to get these tickets to access the halls?”

“Actually, I have them here already,” Joker said, pulling several golden tickets from his sleeve, the slips of admission shimmering beautifully form the light above. He put them down, pushing them towards the middle of the table in order to allow everyone to take their own slip of the key they need to help them unlock their friend’s heart, “I… stole them from the counter, just in case you guys would ever come to...”

His face flinches for a moment, an expression of pain flashed before the rest of the group. He smiled at all of them, yet sadness was still reflected in his golden eyes.

“Never mind, all that matters is that you’re all here.” he smiles, “Oh, and I almost forgot-”

He took a booklet out of his coat.

“-A program that contains the map to the Palace.” he elaborates, “It should tell you everything about the building, and should give you a clue on how to navigate it.”

He placed the program alongside the tickets, Yusuke snatching it up before anyone who could look despite the protest of an annoyed Futaba who hissed him with insults as well as calling him ‘Inari’. Makoto shakes her head, yet the rest of the girls couldn’t help but giggle at Yusuke’s eagerness to examine the peculiar booklet, the boys of the group rolling their eyes at the artist’s eccentricity.

“Well, while Fox has the chance to thoroughly inspect the program you gave us,” Goro sighed as he turned his head to the shadow next to him, “Might as well explain as to why there’s no sign of a treasure.”

“Do you think I’m the reason why there’s no treasure?” Joker asks, and Goro pursed his lips in response.

“Well, it is weird that neither I nor Futaba could detect it.” Morgana piques up, jumping up from Ann's lap and onto the table, “Even when Futaba’s treasure turned out to be her, I could sniff it out easily...”

He trails off his gaze drifting onto the ground, before his head snapped up, his eyes filled with resolve.

“But that doesn’t matter right now!” Morgana said, “Our first goal here is to rescue Ren, treasure or no treasure!”

"Well, if our primary goal is to rescue Ren from the Fool's Theatre, we must do it by the 11th of April," Yusuke said suddenly, closing the program before gently returning it to the centre of the table and grabbed one of the golden tickets for himself.

"The 11th of April, where did you get that date from?" Sumire puzzled, Yusuke turned to look at her.

"It said so in the program." he replied as Futaba took the booklet for herself, "'Join us at the Fool's Theatre for the World Premiere of a performance of a lifetime' it said, and it referred to a special guest appearance; no doubt referring to-"

“Ren-senpai.” Sumire finished his train of thought.

“Well, judging from the map here, it’s gonna be pretty easy.” Futaba said as she flicked through the booklet herself, “There are only nine floors we need to go through, ten if we’re including the Fool’s Theatre.”

“And all we have to do is to just watch some plays, right?” Ryuji said, crossing his legs casually in his seat, “Man, this is gonna be a piece of cake for us. I mean, even if there are shadows who are gonna jump us like with those shadows earlier, taking them out would be easy.”

“Still, I think it would be best to exercise caution.” Haru said, “Speaking of which…”

She turned to Yusuke. He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Noir?”

“I think you need some healing. I can still see the impact of the previous fight on you.”

“I’m fine, Noir. Really, it is no trouble-”

“No, please, Fox. At least take some-”

“I would rather not-”

“Fox-!”

While the group was too occupied with the bickering members, Joker turned to look at Goro. His eyes gazed soft and longingly at the black figure who looked away from the commotion, instead more content in observing the wandering cognitions as they talked amongst each other.

“Akechi.” Joker said, his voice a whisper, “How did you-”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Goro grumbled back, his back still turned towards the shadow, “I don’t have to explain anything to you. Just know that I am alive.”

“Oh, okay,” Joker mumbled, taken aback by Goro’s dismissive tone, sinking back into silence.

“-There we go, Fox. Are you feeling any better?” Haru said, her words caught the attention of Joker as he turned to look to see a smiling Yusuke.

“Why yes, Noir.” Yusuke smiles, “I feel much better actually, thank you for healing me, although you did not have to.”

“Well, you were stubborn about it, but I’m just glad that your injuries are-”

“If you’re all done fooling around, then I suggest we get this infiltration started.” Goro snapped and interrupted Haru, everyone flinching at Goro’s outburst as he got up from the booth seat, “We haven’t got time to waste. We have a deadline to keep to, remember?”

“Dude we’ve got more than a month.” Ryuji said, “And besides, why are you so eager to get started?”

Goro’s only response was a cold look towards Joker, the shadow stone-faced as red gazed into gold. Without another word, Goro turned on his heel and walked away.

Joker slipped out of his seat to address his friends after Goro’s leaving.

“He’s right.” Joker admits, “You all need to get going. Every second you waste here is a second that Ren… my other… stays trapped in this place with the puppet master that’s holding him in there.”

“Does that mean you’re going to watch the performances as well?” Makoto asked the shadow; Joker shook his head in response.

“Forgot to grab a ticket for myself.” he said, “That, and I was thinking of making myself useful to the team. I can get into places that I doubt you guys even can, so while you see whatever’s going on in those halls, I’ll see whatever I can uncover regarding my other’s psyche.”

“But you’re already useful,” Sumire said.

“Yeah.” Ann agreed, “You already told us how to get into those auditoriums and got the ticket and the map to the Palace for us. You’ve done so much already for us, Joker. Don’t worry about it.”

“...Thanks.” Joker smiled as he watched his friends slowly exit from the booth, “It’s just. You’re doing so much for me already, it’s the least I can do to help you guys.”

“Nah man, you’ve already done so much for us before this.” Ryuji laughed, pulling the shadow into a quick hug, “If anything, this is us repaying you for all you’ve done.”

“I agree with Skull,” Morgana said as he hopped from the table, his own ticket glittering in his paws, “This is our way of returning the favour.”

The other thieves nodded in agreement to Ryuji and Morgana’s words, and Joker’s smile grew larger. He felt loved, their resolve glittered in their eyes.

“Thank you, everyone,” he said, before turning to Makoto.

“Well, I suggest you all go into the Devil Theatre first, the one numbered fifteen.” he informed the temporary leader, his gaze looking sternly at her as he nodded towards the general direction of their goal, “It’s the only one currently available for showing. I’m sure the other hall, numbered seventeen, will open once the performance is done.”

“Thank you, Joker,” Makoto said as she nodded at him.

“You’re welcome, my Queen.”

He watched the rest of the thieves wander towards the auditorium, sans Makoto, who briskly walked towards Goro. He watched as they spoke with each other, Goro standing from the wall he was leaning on, hush words exchanged between the two thieves. Their conversation stops, and both Makoto and Goro wandered towards the entrance where the others stood.

Joker waited, watching silently as his friends all went through the door, he watched as the door closed fully, watched he was alone with the cognitions of his palace. No sign of the door opening again, he waited for a bit, until he assumed, they'd taken their seats. Good.

He looked behind him. At a small black, glistening speck nestled within the dark where even the sharpest eyes could barely detect it. He looked directly at the hidden camera.

And smiled deviously.

  ---

  Makoto was the last one to seat herself within the last row of the small auditorium room, the thieves sitting in the row behind the rest of the cognitive audience, allowing themselves to be hidden among the shadows. The lights that illuminated the sides of the room dimmed into darkness, signalling the audience that the play before them was about to begin. A second passed. Then two, then three. Slight creaks echoed amongst the audience within the room as cognitions shifted impatiently in their seats, the Phantom Thieves on edge as they anxiously waited for the performance to start.

“Is something supposed to-”

A stark shutter interrupted Ryuji’s inquiry, the stage lit with a single spotlight, the cognitions muttering ceasing as their heads snapped to watch the stage.

Stillness sunk within the small space. Then the sounds of steps, before a figure emerged into the light. Black curls of hair characterised the actor before them, his face down, shrouded and obscured to the rest of the audience. Yet the Phantom Thieves knew who it was. It was…

“Ren?” Ann whispered as she turned to Futaba who was sitting next to her, “Is that him?”

“Hmm, doesn’t look to be him,” Futaba said, adjusting her goggles as she took a closer look at the actor on the stage, “Readings seem to be giving off that this Ren is merely a cognition of sorts. A fake.”

“Why would Ren have cognitions of himself?” Yusuke queried Morgana who was seated next to him.

“It may have to do with something related to the particular formation of his Palace,” Morgana explained as he observed the cognitive Ren closely.

The cognitive Ren looked at the audience, his eyes unfocused.

“February was where my end, began.” The cognition started; his tone flat as he began his monologue. He talked about saving a woman from a drunken man while he was walking home, how his parents found out he was sued, how he was shipped off into the city, and how he had to stay in an attic within a coffee shop. The thieves quickly understood that the cognitive version of their leader was recounting his time in Tokyo.

“April the 11th,” the cognitive Ren continued, “I met someone who would become my best friend, I discovered a World where the deepest, darkest desires of men manifest, and it was the day that I finally felt… free.”

“That’s when he awoke to Arsene, right?” Ann whispered to Ryuji, who gave a nod as the cognitive Ren continued his monologue.

“I mean, it makes sense.” Morgana said, “When you guys first tore off your masks you are tearing off the mask you wear around society and the outside world.”

“-And so, every time we summon our Persona’s, we are revealing our inner selves towards the rest of the world?” Haru said, clasping her hands, “That’s really poetic.”

“I suggest you all shut your mouths if you don’t want to get caught.” Goro snaps at them, his voice controlled yet a hint of annoyance towards the conversing thieves. Ryuji looked at him as he was about to snap back towards the traitor, but decided against it, while the other thieves shifted uncomfortably in their seats before turning back their attention to the play before then.

Madarame’s Museum, Makoto’s blackmail, Kaneshiro’s Bank. Futaba’s cry for help in exchange for helping take down Medjed. Meeting Haru. Taking down Okumura. Changing Sae’s heart. The interrogation and Goro’s betrayal. The cognition continued to recount the events of Ren’s year in Tokyo with a monotone voice to his crowd, yet the thieves noticed that memories he even considered ‘positive’ during his time there were few and far in between.

“If these were his memories, then why are there barely any happy ones?” Sumire puzzled out loud towards Makoto, who crossed her arms in thought.

“He might be minimising his happier memories and magnifying his traumatic memories,” she said, watching the cognitive Ren as he continued to monologue to his audience, his voice dull, his expression downcast with shadow.

“Why?”

“I… I don’t know Sumire,” Makoto admitted, turning to her with sorrowful eyes.

“Is it just me, or has the spotlight dimmed a bit?” Haru said, Yusuke giving her a nod of agreement.

“I’ve noticed it too,” he confirmed, his voice solemn, “Is it perhaps something to do with the play itself? The subject matter?”

“Yeah, it makes more sense if that were the case,” Morgana said, “After all, this reflects a part of Ren's psyche. If the stage is dimming, it will be related to whatever this play is about.”

“Another thing, Morgana. If we are required to watch these plays in order to access the main theatres to get the keys to unlock the Fool’s Theatre, is it Ren’s way of communicating his troubled mind to us?”

Before Morgana could answer Yusuke, stunned gasps erupted from the audience. The cat turned his attention towards the stage, only to find the cognitive Ren sinking into darkness, still monologuing, unaware of his current predicament.

Morgana caught the words that came out of the cognitive Ren’s mouth, and he felt unease slowly churn his stomach. The cognitive Ren was talking about his life back in Inaba: the shame his mother and father bore with his false arrest, the shunning and isolation he faced from his classmates, the rumours that seemed to follow him from Shujin. Though the cognition kept the same, blank expression towards the audience, each word he seemed to utter sank him deeper and deeper in his own shadow, swallowing him whole as the audience did nothing but watch the spectacle in bewildered silence.

“What the eff...” Ryuji said, trailing off in horror, turning to Ann with pleading eyes. Yet Ann shook her head in response, knowing that the impulsive member of the group wanted to save the sinking mockery of their friend - something she wanted as well.

“Ann...”

“Skull,” Ann said, careful to use his codename as she spoke, her voice soft and pleading as she gently pulled him down back onto his seat, him following almost instinctively as he sat back down. He too saw her desire to spring into action, to save the cognition as he drowned in his own shadow, dragged into sentient darkness while staring at them with blank eyes; but she knew she could do nothing, as so did the other thieves, and Ryuji tried to swallow the rage he felt as the audience clapped with disappointment at the cognition’s performance.

---

“Are you enjoying the performance so far, my guest?” Joker asked Ren, him smiling gleefully as Ren looked at him with hatred, bound hands curled into fists as his shadow, Joker’s eyes illuminating with pleasure.

“Performance? You call that a performance?” Ren spat, concealing his confusion of his shadow’s plans, and plotted to use Joker’s smugness in order to get even a sliver as to what his shadow had in store, “I’ve seen better performances at kindergarten productions. Even low budget soap operas have more effort than that story excuse for drama.”

“I know what you’re doing, Ren,” Joker said, his expression unchanging, amused to see Ren trying his best to outsmart his own shadow, “It’s cute but, don’t think for a second that it’ll work on me. I know you, and I know you’re trying to slyly trick me into giving away my plans.”

Joker chuckled as Ren’s expression, his other wearing one of annoyance, licking his lips before he continued to taunt him, “I can’t give you a hint. Not yet. It'll ruin the surprise.”

“Surprise?” Ren pondered, raising an eyebrow, and Joker mockingly covered his mouth and gasped.

“Oh, there I go again, running my mouth,” he gasped, before laughing hysterically, clearly amused with himself as he stepped forward towards his bound other, “I must really be careful with what I say. I really mustn't spoil the plot for our grand performance.”

“‘Grand performance’. you mean whatever’s going to happen on the 11th next month, right?”

“You’ve been paying attention.” Joker said, and Ren frowned in response, “But yes. I have a great production for you…for the whole world to witness. It will be the culmination of our desires and dreams, and-”

Joker stopped himself mid-sentence, realising he had gotten ahead of himself, almost making an amateur blunder, and withdrew his hands back into his pockets. Ren could only hiss in disappointment as he anticipated his shadow causing his mistake, playing on Joker’s smug demeanour and using it against him. Instead, the shadow continued to observe him, intense gold shining coldly behind his mask, leaning lazily on the doorframe where he stood.

Something on one of the monitor screens caught Joker’s attention, his eyes focused intensely behind him, as if hypnotised by whatever’s currently playing. Using his strength, Ren swivelled around in his chair to see what Joker was staring at, following his shadow’s gaze to see…

Himself. Crying. Cupping his hands, ash in them, kneeling on the hardwood stage as multiple shadows around him laughed mockingly at him. Two Kodama’s circled his crying copy, giggling as they floated, swirling freely in the air, drowning his sobs as they laughed over him. Ren could see two other shadows that stood behind the curtains, Sraosha looking quietly with its gigantic eye as a Fuu-Ki summoned a gale of wind, his clone trying to shield the ash from the gust, clutching the ash closely to him, yet Ren could see the spotlight illuminating clearly that his treasure was falling swiftly through his fingertips.

“Joker.” Ren said, his voice demanding, angry as he did not understand what the both were watching, “You mentioned scripts, right? What is this supposed to mean? Why are you making me watch… whatever this is!?”

Joker snapped from his trance, blinking his eyes slowly before looking at Ren in acknowledgement. He answered Ren’s question by giving him a grin that made Ren’s blood boil, his knuckles white, rage bubbling in his throat, and Joker couldn’t help but laugh at Ren with utter glee.

“Ren, don’t be upset,” Joker said, walking towards Ren until he loomed over him, the shadow’s shadow cast upon him. He craned down his neck, face inches from Ren’s, his smile full of teeth as his eyes gleamed with such intensity that Ren could not help but wince in intimidation, “After all, we haven’t reached the climax of today’s show, Don’t you want to know what happens? Don’t you?”

“I don’t think I have a choice in the matter.” Ren said, grimacing as Joker’s smile stretched even wider.

“That’s the spirit!” he exclaimed with joy, patting Ren on the head in a congratulatory gesture towards his guest, “After all, I did prepare all of this for you and your friends to enjoy. And enjoy you all shall, ‘ll make sure of that.”

“I still don’t underst-”

“Nononono.” Joker murmured, putting a finger onto Ren’s lips to silence him, shushing each time Ren dared parted his lips, “No more questions. I have to go see the others soon, I can’t miss my cue, you’ll sit tight and watch my performance, won’t you, Ren?”

Ren did not reply. He couldn’t, the steady, defiant look he gave to Joker was the only thing he could do in that situation, and Joker enjoyed how much power he exerted over him.

“Good, good, Ren. I appreciate it,” he said, taking his finger from Ren’s lips, his other keeping silent, maintaining his rebellious expression, up until Joker again closed the door to his prison did Ren allow himself to finally shed a tear.

  ---

  “Damn, that was another bummer, huh.” Ryuji sighed as they exited the other auditorium, his expression dejected as he watched the other thieves emerge from the room alongside him. Each thief wore a similar expression of sadness, coming to terms with what they have witnessed, and the only two who did not seem perturbed as they made their way towards their booth were Morgana and Goro.

“Yeah, both of them sucked,” Ann agreed as she hesitated in following Yusuke within the seat, instead content to just stand over the table as Futaba took her place within the booth, “The audience weren’t all that great either, ‘he’s just being a cry-baby’?! Why would they think that?”

“Same,” Haru sighed, rhythmically tapping her fingers on the polished table in front of her, “It didn’t help that the audience were so rude about it.”

“How can anyone even be ‘bored’ by someone’s misery like that,” Futaba seethed, ignoring her laptop in front of her, her voice cracking as she threatened to cry at any moment, “I know they’re just cognitions, but the idea of even them complaining about Ren’s suffering...”

“...It truly is sadistic, isn’t it?” Yusuke mumbled, hand resting on his chin.

“Remember, whatever is shown in the Palace is a reflection of their ruler’s heart,” Morgana stated, hopping on the table as he addressed the group, “There must be a reason, something in Ren’s psyche that states we have to bear witness to… whatever these plays represent. If we do, it may hold a clue for us to bypass the other plays within this Palace, making our infiltration faster.”

“Mona’s right,” Makoto said, nodding with agreement at the cat’s words, yet the others looked at the both of them with doubt, “Maybe if we ask Joker, he can give us a clue-”

“A clue about what?” a familiar voice purred, and she turned to see Joker standing in front of her, expression neutral, hands in his pockets as he tilted his head in curiosity, “Is it something you need my help with, my Queen?”

“Your entrance was certainly timely,” Goro said, narrowing his eyes as Joker removed his hands from his pockets, allowing them to hang beside him, “Where were you while we were watching those plays? We didn’t see you when the first once ended.”

“I was looking into some things,” Joker answered nonchalantly, absentmindedly waving his hand in the air as he spoke, “Mostly to do with the theatre at the top,”

“Did you find a way to get in?” Makoto asks, in which Joker responded with a frown and the shake of his head.

“No… I’m sorry, Queen,”

“That’s okay,” she reassured him, giving him a reassured smile, “You tried your best, it’s all we can ask for at the moment,”

“Still, how were the plays?” Joker asked, his gaze looking towards the rest of the thieves, “Judging by your expressions, I take it that they weren’t great?”

“No...” Sumire trailed off, expression sullen behind her mask, “They were really depressing, Senpai, it was really hard to watch at times,”

“Oh,” was all Joker had to say to her.

“Yeah,” Haru said, agreeing with Sumire as she adjusted a loose strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face, “It was certainly hard to watch without feeling sad, certainly. Joker, do you know if all the plays are as depressing?”

“I don’t know, they might be, they might not,” Joker admits, “If the plays are too hard to bear, I suggest you come tomorrow and-”

“Nu uh, we’ve come this far already,” Ryuji huffs, uncrossing his legs, “And we aren’t bailing on you, Joker, not until we get… whatever is in there.” he said as he points towards the Empress Theatre.

“Ah, yes,” Joker said, “The Empress Theatre… to get the key right?”

“Speaking of the Empress Theatre,” Makoto remembered, “We still have no clue as to what the second condition is in order to enter it. Will you mind filling us in, Joker?”

“That I can do,” Joker said casually, “But be warned… I don’t exactly understand it myself.”

“Meaning?” Goro challenged, raising an eyebrow as he looked at Joker.

“Well,” Joker started, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to collect his words, “I’ve mentioned earlier that the person going in has to match the Lead Actor, correct?”

“Correct,” Makoto said as she nodded to Joker, “But, what does that actually mean?”

“Well, I suppose it has to do with it resonating within one of you,” he said, “Ren wears many masks, each one representing an aspect in his daily life, a person who he faces every day. If these auditoriums are so important that the Lead Actors reside in them, that much mean that each hall might represent-”

“One of us,” Morgana finishes, and Joker nods.

“He cares a lot about you all.”

“So, those messages we got, and the Metaverse app installing itself back on our phone… are you suggesting the reason why is because of these Lead Actors?” Goro theorized.

“It might be, Goro,” Joker shrugged, “However, when it comes to each of you belonging to which hall, I don’t really know. What I do know is that I can go into any of them besides the Fool’s Theatre; I suggest whoever goes first that I’ll accompany them as well. There’s no telling what can happen in there once the Lead Actor appears, if they’ll appear, of course.”

“If I may ask, Joker, how do we know if we're the appropriate thief to enter them in the first place?"

“That I… I don’t know.”

The thieves pondered for a moment, each of them looking around at themselves and back at the double doors that lead to the Empress Theatre. Silence fell upon them, the chatter of the cognitions echoing in the background.

Then Ryuji stood up from his seat.

“Well, if you guys are okay with it, I’m going first,” he stated, shocking everyone as they all looked at him with baffled expressions.

“Ryuji, how do you know it is you who fits the conditions of the Empress Theatre?” Yusuke queried his teammate and friend, looking at him with questioning eyes.

“Honestly, I don’t,” Ryuji confesses, “But like, I don’t like the idea of us just sittin’ around here while Ren is above our heads enduring god knows what-”

“But it says Empress, Ryuji,” Futaba interjects as she slumps in her seat, “Meaning it’s gotta be one us girls, not you, who goes in there,”

“Hey, Empress’ can be boys, too!” Ryuji exclaims.

“Nu uh,”

“Can too, probably,”

“I’m sure that’s not how it works,”

“Well, I’m sure if Naoto Shirogane is still called the Detective Prince despite being a woman, Ryuji could very well be an Empress of some kind,” Goro remarked, grinning mischievously, amused somewhat by his own joke.

“See, Futaba? Goro’s got a point!” Ryuji smiled, crossing his arms, and Goro dropped his jaw in astonishment.

“Ryuji, you are aware that I’m making fun of you, right?” Goro huffs, and Ryuji looks at him with an expression of shocked betrayal.

“Wait-what?! I thought you were helping me?!” he stammered as some of the thieves could not contain their giggles, and even Joker couldn’t help but smile at Ryuji’s reaction, “Well, I’m gonna take that as a compliment, anyway,” he said, crossing his arms, “At least I’m trying to think of something to help Ren, why you gotta be an ass about it?”

Goro responded by rolling his eyes before he returned to staring at the double doors.

“Um, I’m sorry to interrupt, but may I volunteer myself to enter it with Joker” Haru piped up, raising her hand quite timidly, trying to get the attention of the rest of the thieves.

“Sure, Haru, but is there something wrong? I hope I’m not being too forward with this, but I didn’t expect you to volunteer so readily,” Makoto said.

“It’s okay, Makoto,” Haru smiled, “And as for me volunteering… I don’t really know how to explain it, but...”

She looks directly towards the Empress Theatre’s doors.

“I feel… strangely drawn to it,” Haru confesses, her eyes steadily fixated on the doors, “It’s like… It’s calling me, I think? I’m sorry if it sounds absurd, but-”

“You have nothing to apologise for, Noir”, Ann said, smiling at her friend as she puts a reassuring hand on Haru’s shoulder, “I mean, we’re in the Metaverse, and there’s bound to be some crazy things that occur here.”

“That said, Panther,” Morgana said as he approaches Haru, “It might be because Noir is the only one that’s able to go into the theatre,”

“How can you be so sure, Mona?” Yusuke inquired, resting his hand on his chin in thought.

“I mean, it is calling for her, right?” Morgana explains to Yusuke, “And given what we know of the Lead Actors, there must be a reason why the theatre itself is calling to Noir specifically. Plus, if we were wrong and Noir is not who the Lead Actor is calling to, Joker would be there to safely get her out, right Joker?”

“Yes,” Joker nods, “I’ll be sure to safely escort Noir out if anything happens. You have my word.”

“Oh okay then,” Haru said cheerfully as she got in her seat, the others doing their best to shift around their legs as she clambered out of the booth before giving Morgana a pat on head, “Thank you so much for the speech of confidence, Mona-chan, I appreciate it greatly!”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” Morgana purred as Haru’s hand left his head. He turned to Joker, “Just make sure that whatever happens, both of you get out safe, okay?”

“We will, Mona,” Joker said, nodding as Haru approached his side, “You can count on me, I’m Joker after all,”

The both said their goodbyes to the others, Haru barely eye Goro as she did so, before they both turned towards their destination, Joker jumping ahead to grab one of the doors for Haru, opening it for her.

“After you, Miss Noir,” Joker said, bowing gracefully at her, hand tucked politely in front of him, earning a giggle from his teammate, a sound he was happy to hear from her, grinning playfully himself.

“Thank you, Joker,” she bows back playfully before entering the room, Joker standing up from his bow and following Haru inside, allowing the door to gently close itself, gently thudding shut behind them.

---

The interior of the auditorium was unlike Haru had ever seen, lilac carpeting over white marble trailed on the floor that led to the polished stage before her. Beautiful plush seats, all adorned with small white pillows sat in rows facing forward, all the same matching lilac as the carpet, while flowers of various colours decorated the column that supported the balcony seats above, vines supporting vibrate green leaves snaking neatly around railings, the pleasant floral aroma wafting down alongside small petals that landed beside her feet. She looked up, slow, hazy movement having caught her eye, to see a giant, crystalline chandelier hanging below a moving landscape of soft, painted clouds floating by an idyllic sky.

“It’s… beautiful...” Haru marvelled, her eyes wide with complete awe, the hall completely resonating with her aesthetics as she slowly stumbled forward. Joker watched her take in the sight of the decorations that adorned the room, smiling at how happy she looked as he walked ahead, patiently waiting down in front of the steps that lead up to the stage as she slowly clambered down among the row of seats, “Joker, this place is… it’s amazing!” she gasped giggly, and Joker could not help but chuckle at her excitement.

“Is it?” he asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow in mock curiosity, yet Haru paid no mind to his playfully sarcastic response as she approached him, giddy with excitement.

“Yes...” she sighed as she looked at him, and Joker could see her flinch as soon as she remembered the task she was here for, “I mean… I…. I-” she stammered, a light shade of blush forming on her cheeks, “I’m sorry, I got carried away there, haha,”

“It’s okay, Noir,” he chuckled, before gesturing her to go up the stairs first, a curt bow as he raised his hand towards them, “After you,”

“Thank you, Joker,” she giggled, climbing up the stairs on the stage, her pumps clicking as she walked on the polished floor. She wandered on it, Joker following behind her with a casual stride, “I suppose we need to find the Lead Actor now, right?”

“I guess-”

The lights shuttered shut, both Haru and Joker jumped in place, both grabbing and readying their weapons as they stood side by side. Nothing happened. There was no movement, only the sound of silence echoed the walls, their own breathing almost deathly silent as the two of them prepared for an enemy to pounce.

Another shutter echoed the still theatre. A single spotlight shined suddenly in the dark. Haru narrowed her eyes in confusion and worry, her grip on her axe tightening, feeling Lucy stir under her mask as she took small, slow steps towards the solitary spotlight. Her ears strained in the silence as she slowly approached the outer rim, yet she saw no shadow slithering in sight.

“Joker?” Haru whispered, turning her head to find the shadow of her friend missing, sweat now gathering under her gloves, gaze flicking anxiously as he tried to spot him. Another sound. Haru turned to see nothing lurking in the audience area.

She felt rough hands grab her shoulders, and she was promptly shoved into the light. She tumbled into the spotlight, shrieking as light consumed her vision, before shifting to dark, and Haru could feel herself falling.

She fell, wind whipping her hair, weapon slipped from her grip as she flailed in nothing, she screamed, pleading for help, yet the shadows responded with nothing.

A sudden “oomph” fell between her lips as she sunk into the shrubbery, the plant miraculously cushioning her from what felt like to be a very steep fall. She groaned, the wind knocked out of her lungs as she impacted the bush, allowing her a moment to gather her strength before pushing herself up.

“W... where am I?” Haru thought out loud as her eyes scanned her surroundings. She found herself to be in some sort of garden, the plants looking sullen and sickly, wilting, starving for sunlight and warmth as they sunk into the stone that decorated the area, the sky black and empty, lacking any features. She got up to her feet, dusting her legs and trousers of dirt as best she could as she continued to look around, marvelling grimly at the state of the garden, yet found it odd that she could see without an obvious light source.

“Hello?” she shouted, her voice echoing, yet she heard no response. She quieted her breaths, listening intently for any sound in the stillness.

A sob. Haru rushed quietly towards it, softly stepping on the dead flowers and leaves as best she could, following a weathered stone path into an alcove next to a dried waterfall, only to see Ren sitting on a dead lotus, surrounded by a ring of anemone, naked and crying. Petals of marigold drifted gently down the golden shaft of light that illuminated him from above, some sticking on his skin, seemingly clinging it to him as the thorns of white roses dug into him, Ren covered in bruises and scabs as they seemed to suck sickly on his blood while narcissus flowers were stuck, rotten in his hair.

“Ren,” she said, reaching out to him in hopes of soothing her crying friend, only to be stung by the thorns that clung to him, and she could see them tightening around his body, pricking fresh new blood as he continued to wail. She panicked, his whines tugging at her heart, Haru desperately trying to reach out for him, calling his name over and over, yet for every word she uttered, his wail of pain and anguish drowned her out.

“Ren, please!” Haru begged, yet Ren barely acknowledged her, still sobbing as the vines strangled him more and more. She panicked, trying to desperately calm Ren while trying not to touch the vines, yet each patch of skin she reached for earned herself another lash from the roses as they rushed to cover Ren, causing him to howl and bleed.

“Ren, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what to do,” she apologised, watching solemnly as Ren continued to cry, barely acknowledging her presence, too absorbed within his despair as marigolds continue to flutter down towards him, earning another gasp as they landed snugly on his flesh. It seemed to her that the only thing that remotely stirred Ren were the flowers that surrounded him.

An idea sprung to mind. Hushing a goodbye, Haru retreated from the alcove back into the wider garden, a goal that kept her steadfast as she trudged among the floral graveyard. Her eyes swept across sickly green and brown until-

She spotted a single, small daffodil sprouting amongst dead branches, yellow barely shining amongst brown, its petals poking out just enough for Haru to see. She approached the flower, gently pushing the branches away before she carefully reached for the flower and plucked it from the ground.

“Hello, little friend,” she said as she gently held the daffodil in her hand, its petals shining in the omnipresent light. She stood up from her crouching position, the flower in her hand, and continued to patrol the garden, looking for any more flowers she could salvage from the decrepit garden.

In what seemed like hours (though she couldn’t tell, as time felt like it had no governance in that realm) she had collected four additional flowers for her small, makeshift bouquet: twin red Carnations sat next to the Daffodil in her hand, a purple Iris and a pink Hibiscus intertwined together wrapped up with the other flowers, and a Sunflower stood tall amongst them. By coincidence, she happened to find a pink ribbon amongst the mess of twig and stone that defined the garden, its origin unknown, but in which Haru used to tie the stems tightly together.

A last patrol around the garden and Haru made her way back to the alcove where Ren sat, the bouquet in her hands. She felt sickly as she saw the number of marigold petals that covered him, touching any inch of skin not already occupied by the snaking thorns around his hunched body. “Ren?” she whispered, in which he did not reply, but when she held up her gift did Ren stir from his position. He blinked; black, shimmering eyes stained with red looked at the flowers with curiosity. Haru choked back a fearful sob as Ren weakly reached for the flowers she held in her hands.

“Here, Ren. These are for you,” she said, yet she did not know if her words reached his ears, or whether he could even comprehend them while in his current state. He grabbed weakly at them, thin fingertips brushing against the petals of the flowers, grasping at them with great difficulty, and Haru helped him seize his gift by grabbing his hand before clasping his fingers for him.

“There you go, Ren. Just hold them tight,” she cooed, wrapping the flowers to his hand with the bouquet’s ribbon, making sure the knot she tied around them secure. She gave him a smile, and although Ren’s gaze was wholly fixated on the flowers he held, he smiled in return.

The white roses and their thorns rapidly snaked up his arms as Haru’s flowers erupted spontaneously into cyclamen and sweet pea, the anemone hissed at her feet as she stumbled back in fear. The petals of marigold once fluttered down sparsely from above now rained on Ren in a torrent as they drowned the boy, his hand holding what was once his gift still exposed, left untouched.

Haru tried to save him, she tried to approach her friend, yet something snaked between her ankles and held her in place, Haru looking down to see stalks of spider lilies squeezing her stationary, more and more joining as the stone path fell before her, Haru’s frame supported by the spider lilies that continued to assault her, Haru screaming as she desperately fought off the flora binding her in place. One latched onto her right wrist before pulling back, another one doing the same to her left, and Haru thrashed, squealing in utter fear as the flowers restrained her, and she looked to still see Ren’s exposed hand, still clutching onto the flowers, the ribbon gleaming vibrantly against pale skin.

“Get-” Haru tried to shriek, fighting instincts flaring in her muscles as terror pooled in her stomach. Yet she was silenced when the lilies snaked up her neck and around her mouth, and she muffled as they continued to climb up her body. She jerked wildly, her body flailing, her vision blackening, the last thing she saw being Ren’s still outstretched hand and the marigolds that continued to pour violently onto him before the lilies snaked around her eyes, and soon suffocated her other senses entirely.

  ---

There was nothing. Black.

Her head was full of fog.

Haru felt her mouth dry. She smacked her lips, the skin chapped, her throat hoarse. Dizzy. She felt dizzy.

The sound of chirped chatter, the patter of a carpeted floor and the clatter of cutlery. Bright light in her eyes mixed with darkness. She could smell something savoury.

Haru opened her eyes, her eyelashes fluttering against her face, the sound of the diners eating and chatting around her, the smell of the buffet reaching her nostrils caused her to salivate, the intensity of the yellow lighting above her made her wince as her eyes adjusted from the brightness from above. She raised her head from the cool dining table she was currently slumped over, waiting for her tired brain to register where she even was.

Blinking a few times, she finally knew where she was: at the famous Wilton hotel buffet in Tokyo. Memories of the spider lily assault sprung back to mind, and Haru panicked as she rushed as she felt her face and looked at her hands. Her mask was on, and she saw her purple gloves and her pink blouse. She was still in her Phantom Thief attire. She was still in the Palace; Ren’s Palace.

A pang of emptiness echoed in her heart as familiar giggles caught her attention, Haru turning her head left to see a copy of herself and a smiling, casually dressed Ren laughing over their cakes. She narrowed her eyes in confusion. She recognised this as one of the numerous meetings she had with him during Ren’s stay in Tokyo; a recent memory to be exact, celebrating her finishing her exams with some of the best confectionery and coffee the hotel could supply. She watched as they conversed, yet barely acknowledged the heavy feeling that weighted her breaths.

“This is good.” Ren complimented, gesturing to the piping, white mug he was holding, “Good coffee, certainly not close to Sojiro’s though,”

“I don’t think there’s coffee that comes close to how Sojiro makes it.” other Haru complimented, taking a sip from her own cup, a satisfied sigh passing through her lips.

“I mean, the guy had help from a certified genius in the form of Futaba’s mom, after all,” Ren pointed out as he gently put down the mug of coffee in front of him, “Wakaba helped a lot with perfecting the stuff Sojiro currently makes… although, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d discover some special coffee tricks himself.”

“Yes well, I’ve actually arranged with him some hours in Leblanc, where he’d promise to teach me some of his coffee making skills,” other Haru said, and Haru could have sworn the sinking feeling came back with more intensity.

“Oh, stealing my job now, aren’t we?” Ren jokes, and other Haru laughs, waving her hand sheepishly. Haru’s own breaths grew heavier.

“Of course not, Ren,” other Haru giggles, “But it’s certainly a good experience to gain for running my cafe. Sojiro-san is kind, patient, and has good experience with running Leblanc, so I personally think it’s appropriate to be guided by him.”

“Well, good luck.” Ren said, taking another sip from his coffee mug, “I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Thank you!” the other Haru smiled as she took another sip from her cup, “I know I’ll sound quite absurd, but I’m so thankful that you’re so supportive of me opening my cafe. It brings me with joy knowing that I have a friend like you.”

“It’s really no problem, Haru,” Ren said, yet Haru felt otherwise with another pang of dread and stress  echoed in her chest, “I want to see all my friends succeed, and last time I checked you’re one of my friends, unless of course there’s a fight or betrayal of trust I missed the memo of participating in,”

“Ren!” other Haru gasps and Ren casually laughs at her shocked reaction.

“I’m just kidding of course,” he winks, taking a sip of coffee, earning a giggle and a hushed, playful scold from the other Haru, yet Haru could feel inside her heart that it was anything but.

The two continued to talk amongst another, Haru quietly both Ren and her past self as they chatted about all sorts of things, absentmindedly consuming the various delectable treats as they did so. It was when the other Haru gasped did they both realise that they'd run out of sweets to eat. The other Haru stood up from her seat, Ren looking at her with a perplexed expression.

"I'm thinking of grabbing more treats for myself," she said, "The Wilton hotel does have the nicest desserts don't you think? I'm thinking of getting some more of their crumpets, they go well with the jam they provide. What about you, Ren? Would you like anything?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Ren said, smiling at the other Haru. With a nod of understanding and a hushed 'I'll be back' the other Haru quietly wandered away from the table, and it was the first time Haru herself could see Ren noticeably relax in his seat, the smile he wore flattening into a tired frown.

She grimaces, the suffocating feeling coming back now full force within Haru as Ren stared off into the distance, his fingers rhythmically tapping the gleaming surface of the dining table he was sat at. It was a feeling of aimless dread, the feeling that Haru was acquainted with, welling up inside of her from nights staring up at her ceiling, miserable as she had no tangible control of her life as she was used as a people by her father, then again as she was suddenly thrust upon with the responsibilities of managing an entire corporation without so much of an ounce of experience or help. She remembers the dizzying feeling of being so lost with what to do, aimless and stressed and drowning in her emotions, and she remembers Ren being the one who helped her overcome the thoughts of doubts and self-loathing that came with such a huge responsibility of planning her future.

So why was she feeling this all over again? Unless…

"I'm back, sorry I took so long." other Haru apologises as she puts down her plate of treats, Ren sitting back up in his seat and smiling at her, yet Haru could now see his expression was less vibrant than before, "Some vanilla sponge cake caught my eye while I was helping myself with the crumpets, and I was deciding whether to further indulge myself or to take what I wanted, which I ended up doing of course,"

"Shame to that sponge cake," Ren said jokingly, "Left alone in the cruel world, never to be eaten by someone as sweet as it, oh the tragedy!"

"Haha, I'm sure someone will save it from this cruel world," other Haru played along, gently cutting one of the crumpets on her plate into two, "Unrelated to our conversation on sweets, but how have you been doing recently?"

Haru felt herself choke at the question, yet Ren still wore his cheery expression.

"Other than applying for universities, nothing really major," Ren said casually, and Haru felt another well of stress rising from her chest, "I really want to go to a good culinary school, but I'm also looking at drama schools as well, not that they'd accept me, but I'm hoping at least,"

"Drama? I didn't know you were interested in drama. When did this happen, Ren?" other Haru said, and Ren smiled at her.

"When I was applying, I remembered my time as Joker," he explained, his voice now hushed, yet Haru could hear him just as clearly as if the surrounding noise quieted in volume around her, "I… I really enjoyed how free I felt, and though I love cooking more than anything, I… I really want to relive that feeling, I want to be Joker again, I guess is what I'm saying, even joined the drama club as soon as I got back to Yasogami High. A lot of my friends there were shocked by the sudden change of interests almost, but I guess I never knew I had that side within me until then, haha,"

"Well, I'm sure you'll do great," other Haru said reassuringly, and all of a sudden Haru felt… doubt creep out her throat, "You're a strong and determined person Ren, I'm sure whatever you put your mind to, you'll do great!"

Though Haru knew her words of encouragement to her friend were genuine, hearing them again while alien feelings churned around her heart felt disingenuous, fake, lacking any warmth as her past self took a bite out of the crumbling pastry, "And if you need any help, I'll be here for you okay?"

Ren could not help but force a smile, and Haru felt so alone as Ren replied a small, forceful, polite "okay" to the other Haru.

---

Light consumed her vision once more, and Haru found herself back in the Empress Theatre atop the polished, wooden stage, the bright spotlight shining down upon her as she rose from her knees. She looked around the stage, seeing only herself, not even Joker who had mysteriously disappeared, likely wandering within the depths of the backstage to investigate while she was trapped in her trial.

Grabbing her axe that lay beside her, Haru noticed a peculiar object that she had not seen before. It lay in front of her, edges gleaming beautifully in the light, and she recognised it as her mask.

“Is that…” she exclaimed in bewilderment, quickly touching her face to see that yes, she did still have her mask on. She pushed herself off the floor, picking up the handle of her axe before approaching the object, grabbing it off the floor.

It was a perfect replica of her mask, down to the soft bend where it settled on the ridge of her nose. It felt light, yet fragile, Haru marvelling at the craftsmanship down to the stitching on the edges, the material shone slickly as she tilted it around, taking a closer look.

She heard familiar heels clicking gently on the polished floor, turning around to see Joker, his golden eyes looking quizzically at hers as he walked towards the thief, hands in his pockets, his coat flapping lazily in time with the sway of his steps.

“So, you’ve gotten a key,” he informed her, looking at the black mask in her hands.

“To the Fool’s Theatre, right?” she asked him, and Joker nods, smiling proudly at her achievement.

“You did great, Noir!” he smiled at her, and Haru smiled in return. She pocketed the mask before she turned to leave the stage, yet when she made her way towards the stairs Joker gently grabbed her arm.

“Joker, what’s the matter?” she asked, slightly startled by his abrupt action. Joker pulled his hand away from her, a look of intensity in his eyes before they wandered from her own down towards her hand that clutched the mask.

“Why don’t you put it on?” he said, before meeting her gaze again, his tone assertive, not really asking her but rather demanding her to put on the strange object. Haru’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Why would I do that?” she asked, puzzled by Joker’s peculiar suggestion, tilting her head slightly, “Is it something I have to do in addition to-”

“No, that’s not it.” Joker admitted. He looked hesitant, constantly shifting from one leg to another, looking down at the floor as he tried to find the right words to convey his thoughts.

“It’s just...” he began, his voice trailed off along with his gaze. They both snapped suddenly back towards her, “Aren’t you tired of being Haru?”

“I… I don’t understand,” Haru replied, taken aback by his strange question, “What do you mean, tired of being me’? I don’t think I can ever be tired of being ‘me’ if I’m always ‘me’ so to say,”

“I meant, are you tired of being Haru?” he clarified, “tired of the responsibilities, tired of having to hide your true self, tired of having to suppress your feelings, tired of having to force yourself to smile, to pretend, to please everyone? Don’t you want to be free of it all?”

He pointed at the mask she held beside her, “All you have to do is wear that mask, Haru. If you do, you’ll be able to finally be free.”

Haru felt uncomfortable. She couldn’t fathom why Joker would suggest such a thing to her, stepping back in almost fear, his words settling a feeling of unease in her stomach.

“I’ll be free?” she asked, yet she feared she knew what he was suggesting. Joker stepped towards her, his eyes transfixed onto hers, his expression unreadable, and Haru could feel her heart thump loudly, ringing in her ears.

“Put on the mask, Haru,” Joker insisted, his tone demanding, expecting her to do what she was told to, “Put it on. Become Noir,” he said, “Leave Haru behind,”

“Joker, you’re scaring me,” Haru squeaked, again backing away from the shadow, her grip on her axe tightening, ready to defend herself if she absolutely had to. Yet Joker did not deter from his goal. He still pursued her, his pace quickened to match the fleeing girl, and Haru felt herself on the precipice of hysterics.

“Put. On. The. Mask. Haru.” Joker demanded, his calm, polite facade dissipated, the shadow from under his mask overcasting his eyes, taking one large stride across the gap between to loom over her, “Do it, Haru. Do it!”

“No,” she mumbled, and Joker looked at her, confused.

“What?”

“I said,” she began, her voice rising, her fear evaporating, the anger in which she wielded against shadows in the Metaverse coming to her aid once more. She eyed Joker, the same defiant look he had taught her to embrace when she rebelled against her father and her unwanted fiancé, the same call to action she had felt when she had first fully awoken to her Persona now buzzed within her fingertips, “I said, no! You might be Ren’s shadow, but you are not Ren! You’re an ugly part of him, one that could grow, and fester unchecked! I don’t care if you call yourself, Joker. You are not him! You will never be him! And I will never take orders from you!”

“But, Noir!” Joker pleaded, shifting once more into his polite facade, “I’m trying to free you! To give you a better existence! To exist unchained by society! Why are you throwing this opportunity to truly live as you are!? If you join me, you and I and the others would enjoy a perfect world where we rule it. Don't you want that?!”

" I don't want to, because,” she now shouted, politeness and kindness towards the shadow replaced with scorn and fury, regaining her footing against Joker as she stood up tall, axe now at the ready, feeling Lucy pulsating within her as her Persona itched for a fight, “I’m already living as my true self, as me! You should know, Joker. It was you - no - Ren, who showed me that, showed me that I can live and exist as myself, both around my friends and in society! I don’t need to exist as Noir, because Noir is me and I am her! And your "perfect world" idea? It goes against everything we, as Noir and Haru, and as the Phantom Thieves, stand for, and you know it yourself!”

The mask in her hand suddenly began to shake violently in her grip, Haru gasped as it fell out of her grasp and onto the floor, shattering into pieces.

“No!” both shrieked as the mask shattered, shards of black spilling across the stage. Before either of them could utter a word, the pieces began to vibrate erratically on their own before erupting into dark tendrils that rose into the air. They congregate together, swirling into a ball of black before morphing into a silhouette. Suddenly, as quick as it appeared the silhouette shed the shadow that formed it to reveal a Kali.

“Haru!” Joker gasped, yet Haru ignored him completely, running towards the shadow with a battle cry, both of her hands gripping tightly on her axe as she swung it with her entire strength. Kali blocked Haru’s attack with ease with the use of its swords, pushing Haru away, the girl stumbling back on the wooden floor, yet she managed to regain her footing, taking a fighting stance once more.

“Haru, stop!” Joker begged as Haru continued to fight the shadow, yet she did not heed his words, instead continuing her assault towards the shadow. Joker attempted to step between the shadow and the girl yet stopped when Haru reached for her mask.

“Lucy!” she shouted, ripping her mask off her face, summoning her Persona in an eruption of blue flame, casting Life Wall on herself as the Kali charged towards her, Joker desperately trying to find an opening to intervene, yet the gap between them closed too quickly. The Kali took a swing, the strength of its strike immediately bouncing off the magical wall that Haru put over herself and striking the shadow instead, and the girl used the opportunity provided to take out her grenade launcher before blasting the shadow back completely.

“Noir, what are you doing!?” Joker growled at her, yet Haru paid little attention as she raised her axe, and before the shadow could react, let alone flee, she brought her blade down upon it, killing it.

“No!” Joker shrieked as the Kali dissipated from the stage, leaving a crystalline version of the mask behind, clutching his hair as he stared at the object, eyes wide and panicked, “No no no no no!”

“W... what?” Haru mumbled, blinking rapidly as she calmed down, withdrawing her axe to her side as she saw the crystal mask on the wooden floor. It had the same shape, but it now appeared crystalline, its colour purple like the gloves she currently wore. She approached the masked and crouched down looking at it curiously, yet she dared not touch it.

“Joker, w-”

“You ruined everything!” Joker screamed as he stomped on the floor, tears forming around the corners of his eyes, enraged as he looked at Haru with hatred, “My prop… my precious prop… I spent so long preparing it, making sure it would do what I wanted; I even had to ruin my statue, only for you to destroy it!”

Haru flinched each time Joker raised his voice, her sudden burst of adrenaline from the Kali fight, the drain from her trial and the uncharacteristic tantrum Joker was throwing left her kneeling on the floor, too stunned and exhausted from her trial and fight to do anything but watch as he complained incessantly about his plans. He reached into his hair, intertwining his fingers around his curly locks, mumbling frantically, and Haru could just hear him talk to himself.

“Ruined… ruined… the key… the script… fuck...” he muttered, Haru straining to hear him through her frantic heartbeat. She reached slowly for the crystal mask that lay beside her, gently brushing the smooth surface with her fingertips before she grabbed it. As she did so, Joker snapped to attention and saw the mask in her hands.

“Haru,” Joker warned, hands dropping to his sides, staring at her with a blank expression, yet his eyes followed the mask obsessively, “What are you doing?”

“I’m… I’m taking the mask,” Haru said, her voice hesitant as she stood up from the floor, Joker’s gaze still following the object.

“Hah, you are, aren’t you?” he snarled, scowling with hatred as he looked at her, golden eyes radiating hatred towards Haru, “Ruining my plans, my production, just like that? Hah, I expected nothing less...”

“Joker, please stop this-”

“No!” he screamed, and Haru jumped, her breath lurching as he laughed maniacally in restrained gasps, holding his head in his hands as he closed his eyes, “Why, why would I stop? I want to achieve my goal, Haru, something you can relate to correct? After all, I was the one who helped you gather the courage to attend that stupid Okumura Foods meeting to launch your dream in opening your little cafe,”

He raised his head to look at her, “So why did you ruin mine?”

“Joker-”

“I know why,” he started, again walking towards her, his chin held high, his grin bearing teeth as he looked down at her, “It’s because you like to ruin things, don’t you, Haru?”

“I-”

“Taking Morgana away from us, always whining about the father who treated you to an end. By the way,” he pondered for a moment, tapping his chin with a finger in mock thought, “that guy you were supposed to get married with, Sugimura. Whatever happened to him?”

“I managed-”

“-to call off the marriage, I figured as much.” Joker smiled, causing Haru further unease, “To think you’d be able to do something on your own. Never thought you’d be even capable of something like that-”

“Joker,” Haru interrupted, and Joker stopped his rant as she slowly got up to her feet, “Ren… why are you saying all of this!? What are you talking about!? What’s gotten into you?”

Joker flinched visibly at her calling his real name, as if remembering that it was indeed his own name, and he wore a sour expression.

“Why do you want to know?” he spat at her, eyes narrowing in contempt as he addressed her.

“Because, this is unlike you,” Haru said, walking slowly towards him, expression sincere and kind as she spoke, “This is not the kind, understanding, supportive leader that I got to know. Ren...”

“Then you really don’t know me at all, do you?” he chuckled dryly, shaking his head in almost disbelief, “Haru; there’s so much you don’t know about me, yet you trust me? Why?”

“Well… why wouldn’t I?” Haru asked, genuinely confused as he continued to chuckle to himself.

“I know why,” he said, “Because you are an idiot. An airheaded, spoiled idiot that wormed her way into our friend group. If it weren’t for your father, we wouldn’t have to deal with Sae, I wouldn’t have to play bait just to get back at Akechi, and we wouldn’t have to deal with the scathing backlash, only to be forgotten like just some…. Some cultural FAD!”

Each word Joker said raised his voice until he was screaming at her, and each word caused Haru to become more and more upset as Joker assaulted her with his voice, echoing across the walls of the empty hall, until Joker was huffing, a hand over his forehead, almost heaving with exhaustion, and Haru attempted to reach out for him, only for Joker to swat her hand.

“Don’t” Joker managed to gasp as he suddenly felt dizzy, the same surge of power and energy he felt when first confronting his other that boggled his mind even further. ‘Why was this happening now?’ he asked himself as he eyed Haru with malice, while the curly-haired girl looked at him with horror; worry even.

“Just go,” he growled, his words only bringing more power to his veins, Joker trying to restrain the groans that bubbled up his throat, opting instead to huddle further towards the stage floor. Haru did not know what to do. She wanted to help, eyes widened with panic as to her, Joker’s condition continued to worsen, yet a small part of her feared retribution from the shadow if she tried to help him once again.

“Joker, are you-”

“LEAVE ME.” Joker screeched; his voice boomed in unnatural volume as the walls shook violently. Haru yelped as the power surges continued in Joker’s veins, him now unable to contain himself, uttering a groan of pleasure. He looked up from his curled position to still see Haru looking at him with worry, and with another boom, he shouted, “LEAVE”.

And Haru did. There was first hesitation in her steps, but she obeyed his request, turning and running from the stage and out of the auditorium as the petals from the flowers around her shed their petals at horrifyingly unnatural speeds, leaves shrivelling up and dying, falling towards the now running, scared girl as she swore her surroundings were collapsing around her, and Joker could not help but cackle behind her at the sight of her fleeing before he hastily retreated behind the back of the stage.

---

 “What do you think they’re doing in there anyway?” Ryuji sighed, leaning back at his seat as he bounced his leg impatiently.

The rest of the Phantom Thieves sat in the booth, waiting for Haru and Joker to emerge with the mask, eager to continue with their pursuit deeper into the Palace. Some occupied themselves, Futaba typing away on her laptop, trying to ignore the detective clad in black in front of her, while Yusuke lightly sketched the Palace interior in a little notebook. However, most of them did not have such objects to distract themselves as they waited, Ryuji finding it increasingly annoying that he couldn’t connect to the Internet while in the Metaverse, Ann absentmindedly flicked through the little program Joker provided them over and over again, while Makoto and Morgana discussed their next plan of action.

“I dunno, when they’re done, I guess,” Futaba answered “I’m trying to see if I can hack into anything that’ll give us a view as to what is happening inside. Hopefully, there are cameras and a network feed of some kind that I can easily hack into,”

“And what about Senpai?” Sumire asked Futaba, who looked up from her laptop to address her.

“He’s okay,” Futaba answered, “I’ve set up some signals to track his vitals and location. Though nothing’s major’s happening now, I’ve set up alerts if there is a change in either his location or condition,”

“I doubt that any real harm would come to him,” Goro informs, and Futaba scows.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, bird brain,” she seethed in a hushed tone, Goro acting like he hadn’t heard or cared for what she said as Goro continued, “Whoever or whatever has Ren needs him alive to continue to exist of course; their existence is too intertwined with his wellbeing, and any disruption to that can cause serious harm to either the Palace or it,”

“And what do you suppose this ‘thing’ that has Ren, is? A rogue cognition?” Yusuke said, entering the conversation as he put his small sketchbook down onto the table. Goro hesitates, his tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth.

“I-”

“It’s probably some rogue shadow or whatever, maybe a cog’ of his parents since they’re really strict towards Ren,” Ryuji interrupts Goro, “Nothing to worry about, we can probably take them on easy, especially with Joker on our side,”

“I wasn’t going to say-”

“Guys cut it out and stop bullying Crow,” Ann scolded both Futaba and Ryuji, “I know we have our differences and stuff, but we need all the help we can get if we’re gonna save Ren. That also means no interrupting and name-calling, okay?”

“I didn’t call him names,”

“And I didn’t interrupt him!” Both Ryuji and Futaba defended themselves, Goro sighing at the bickering thieves, barely expecting them to allow him to speak at all, retreating away from them to see Yusuke and Sumire still intently holding their attention towards him.

“So, what do you think it is, Crow?” Yusuke inquires politely, Sumire looking as though she has the same question in mind. Goro looks away from the both for a moment, trying to word his thoughts.

“Well, I don’t think you’ll like it either way,” he began, his gaze still distant and thoughtful, red eyes looking at the double doors as he allows himself to ponder for a moment, “I still don’t have any evidence myself, but. I distrust the shadow that roams here,”

“You mean Joker?” Sumire asked, and Goro nodded in response, “But why, Crow-senpai?”

“I’m not one to question gut feelings, but why do you suspect his shadow?” Yusuke queried Goro, “He’s been doing nothing but helping us so far. The shadow is the true self is it not? If Joker is acting kind, can’t we suspect that he is kind in turn?”

“I don’t want to appear as being crass but: I have a feeling that Joker’s hiding things from you all,”

Everyone within earshot stopped abruptly with their prior conversations, Makoto and Morgana pausing from their discussion, Ann interrupted from her scolding of Ryuji and Futaba, all of them turning to face Goro in stunned silence, some with their mouths agape.

“Joker’s… lying to us?” Ann questioned Goro carefully, eyes unnaturally wide under her mask, “A-are you sure!?”

“Are you sure about that?” Ryuji interrogated Goro, leaning forward, looking at him with suspicion, “I mean, we are his friends, and we’ve known him way longer than you,”

“Yes, I know,” Goro gasped quickly, “But I have an uneasy feeling that he’s lying to you a-”

“Joker would never lie to us,” Futaba snapped at him angrily, the thieves flinching as she hissed at Goro with such uncharacteristic anger and boldness, “He would never! You’re just, just trying to get us to not trust him, aren’t you?!”

“Oracle, I-”

“No, you shut up, this is Ren we’re talking about,” Futaba hissed, her hands curling into fists as she glared at Goro under her goggles, “He would never lie to us! He would never! You don’t know him! You tried to kill him!”

“Futaba-”

“Shu-”

The Palace abruptly trembled, the chandeliers above rattled violently, vases shattering, cognitive patrons screaming as the Phantom Thieves sprang from their seats, with a quick order from Makoto, they all dived under the small table as their surroundings shook.

“What’s going on?!” Ann cried out as she tried her best to retreat underneath the table, pulling Ryuji in as he clumsily fell forward, “Why is the Palace shaking?!”

“I don’t know, but I do know that something’s happening to Ren,” Futaba informs them, voice barely audible shaking from the tremors and her fear as her laptop beeps noisily in her lap.

“Oracle, what’s wrong!?” Sumire screamed as the tremors worsened, Futaba scrambling to look at her laptop, typing away at the keyboard as her eyes darted around the screen.

“It’s Ren!” she replied, “I don’t know what’s happening to him, but-”

Haru stumbles out from the double doors, her expression one of haste and panic, and fast as the tremors came the Palace suddenly stood still. The cowering Phantom Thieves paused as Haru fell onto the carpeted floor in a daze, lying on her side and breathing heavily, clutching her axe alongside an object in her hands. One they suspected that the reason why the quake that had hit the Palace had passed, they each emerged from under the table, excluding Futaba, who was still working away on her laptop.

“Noir! Haru, are you okay?!” Morgana exclaims as he rushes towards the fallen girl, paws glittering with green healing magic, ready to aid her, “What happened in there?! Where’s Joker?!”

“Joker...” Haru mumbles, her expression downcast at the mention of their missing friend, her eyes fixated on the carpet floor, her fingers curling with reflex. She closed her eyes temporarily, feeling suddenly, very, very tired, and she could physically feel bags forming under her eyes.

“Haru, what’s wrong?” Ann asked the girl, too occupied with worrying about her friend’s help to use their allocated codenames, swooping down to her level, kneeling alongside Morgana on the carpeted floor, “You look tired, take it easy okay?”

Haru slowly nods, as if the gesture was a Herculean task on its own, acknowledging Ann’s words as she allowed herself to be assisted by the red-wearing girl. Ann approached Haru, sliding an arm around her back, slinging Haru’s arm around her neck before lifting her up by the shoulders.

“Haru, I’m sorry if I agitate you further, but may I inquire about the glittering object you’re holding in your grasp?” Yusuke asked, pointing at the shiny purple object in the hand that slung around Ann’s shoulders.

“Just… take it,” Haru slurred, her eyes fluttering as she struggled to stay awake, her energy quickly draining as she stood there, “Please, I feel...”

Yusuke nodded, catching the crystalline object as Haru dropped it, Ryuji running by her side, helping Ann up as Haru looked as though she was about to lose consciousness, her skin flushing white.

“Is that?” Sumire gasps as Yusuke observes what he assumed to be a key Joker mentioned earlier, “Is that Noir’s mask?”

“Whatever it is, it’s definitely a key,” Futaba said, having already scanned the object in their hands with Al Azif, “It’s resonating with the door on the topmost floor, no doubt the same one that leads to the Fool’s Theatre,”

“While I do want to discuss additional things, I suggest we first get Noir out of here,” Makoto commands the others, “She is in no fighting condition, and if we were faced with another ambush like we did earlier, with Joker missing, we would be in an especially vulnerable position,”

“But, Ren-”

“We can’t go on, Skull,” Makoto shakes her head, “As much as I want to rush ahead in order to save Ren, we need to let Noir rest and regather her strength. We have plenty of time, Ren is a strong person, and we can strategize what to do next back in the real world, but for now, we need to retreat, okay?”

Ryuji opens his mouth to argue, a force look burned in his eyes, yet when he looked at Makoto’s stern, uncompromising expression he closed his mouth. He visibly winced, attempting to argue with their leader, but when he looked upon Haru’s pale, sickly face he realised that Makoto had a point.

“Okay, Queen,” he sighed defeatedly, before gesturing to Ann to follow him out of the Palace. She nodded, and while carefully supporting Haru they made their way down the stairs towards the grand foyer.

“As for the mask,” she turns to the rest of the thieves that remained in the Metaverse, “Oracle and Mona, you should hold onto the mask for the time being since you’re close to the meetup spot. I’m sure Skull and Panther would escort Noir back home just fine. As for the rest of you, we’ll discuss our next meeting session when Noir feels better and regains her strength, and Oracle and Crow; please stay behind for a bit, I need to discuss possible methods of communication between us all, if that’s okay,”

Futaba and Morgana nod in agreement, Yusuke handing the object to the girl as he leaves, Sumire giving the remaining thieves a tiny wave as they both exit the Palace.

“You aren’t leaving, Mona?” Futaba questions the cat, noticing him standing vigilantly between her and Goro.

He gives a nod and a smile. “I made a promise to Ren that if anything were to happen to him, I would be there to protect you,” he explained, Futaba giving him a puzzled look, “I mean, he didn’t, but he implied it, and that’s good enough for me,”

“Anyway,” Makoto coughed, grabbing the attention of all three of them, “Oracle, how easy is it for you to make sure our chats and calls are secure?”

  --

  The foyer of the top floor was empty compared to the rest of the building, no cognitions of people or ushers holding shadows alike wandered along the red-carpeted floor of the foyer in front of the most important auditorium in the Palace: the Fool’s Theatre.

Two red doors stood vigilant, surrounded by smooth black walls of marble, veins of gold running through the stone as red curtains hung along it, potted plants sprouting tall, green shrubs sparsely decorated the room, a golden chandelier hung in the middle, glittering beautifully in the surrounding light.

Joker emerged from the elevators that hugged the wall next to the stairs, hands casually in his pockets, having escaped the Empress Theatre he made his way back into his own. He strides across the room with long steps towards the doors, grabbing its golden handle, yet paused to inspect the velvet that decorated them. Cavities that held the keys to the theatre, won by the trials all the thieves had to face stayed empty, Joker brushing a gloved hand to where Haru’s mask would have been slotted in, before pulling the door open, it obeying its rightful master and allowed him entry, the lights of the auditorium shuttering dramatically to life.

Bathed in golden luminosity, the interior of his beloved hall glittered wonderfully in his eyes. Black, pristine leather seats lined each row along with red carpet decorated in a faint checkered pattern, golden walls and columns accenting the room and balconies, leading up to the beautiful mural that reminisced Yusuke's interpretation of Desire and Hope, brought to life as colours swirled and shifted and radiated above the grand, obsidian chandelier that dangled below it. He made his way down among the row of seats, his footsteps padded on the carpet, and with one quick motion he shot out his grappling hook, zipping across the air, before landing perfectly onto the wooden performance space.

Retracting the grappling hook and tucking his hands casually in his pockets, Joker retreated under the towering, black and gold curtains of the stage as he headed towards his dressing room.

The door to his sanctuary was located at the end of the otherwise bleak hallway, the red velvet shining against blank white doors, his name on a star-shaped door plate made of gold. He reached for the doorknob, twisting it, a soft ‘click’ echoing in the hallway as he pushed it open.

His dressing room was as luxurious as the theatre it was housed in, red and blacks decorated each crevice, white and gold accenting countertops and tables and door edges, expensive platters of food, bottles of drink, and electronics scattered across the room, all with a marble floor, gold veins accenting cracks between the rock. In the middle room, a black leather seat faced a large screen TV that was nestled comfortably within the wall, two beautifully velvet lined doors stood next to each other, leading to his bedroom and ‘office’ respectively. Closing the door behind him, Joker ignored all the temptations surrounding him completely, instead wandering towards the back of the room, where a single door lay forgotten, untouched by the same opulence which adorned its surroundings. A gloved hand on the doorknob, he twisted, flinging it open with gusto, flooding the dark monitor room with light.

“Bonjour mon invité, je suis de retour!” he called, laughing as he reached for Ren’s chair, grabbing it before he spun around to his other’s scow, Ren’s face illuminated by artificial, flickering lights. Ren did not reply, he did not want to give the satisfaction that he knew his shadow craved, yet Joker noticed his glistening wet cheeks, taking upon himself to inspect Ren’s face by suddenly grabbing his chin, his other’s eyes astonished as Joker inspected him.

“Ren, what happened to you?” Joker cooed, yet his tone lacked any real concern or warmth as he tilted Ren’s head, inspecting the glistening streaks of tears on his face, “Why did you cry? Do my plays not bring you joy?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ren hissed as he jerked his head away from Joker’s grasp, feeling more disgusted and sicker the closer his shadow got to him, “Don’t touch me, don’t you dare touch me,”

Joker withdrew his hand back at Ren’s sudden outburst, feigning surprise at Ren’s rebellious attitude towards him, “I’m safe to assume that your tears are the result of the performances I put on for you, or perhaps from me interacting with your friends?”

“Whatever your plan is, leave them out of it,” Ren fumed, pulling on the restraints that bounded his hands, “They’ve got nothing to do with this place. I’m clearly the one you want, and I suspect you’d want to keep it that way,”

“I do,” Joker muses, “But I also want them. You see, Ren, I’ve clearly invited them here, not to steal your heart, but to save them from themselves, from this Hellish society that we all live in-”

“And you’re doing that by insulting them and brainwashing them?”

“I… didn’t mean to say those things to Haru,” Joker confessed, “But she left me no choice. If she wasn’t going to join us, I had to drive her out, I had to push her away, so she wouldn’t interfere with us, you understand right? I know you do, because you’re me,”

“I’m not you,” Ren spat, though he knew deep down his shadow was right, the words he uttered to Haru were his, thoughts he kept deep within his heart, yet he tried anyway to deny the manifestation of his darkest thoughts and feelings around him, “I’m not you,” he cried, “I’m not you,”

“But I am you,” Joker said plainly, raising his neck above to look down on Ren, both to dominate and to allow him to accommodate the intoxicating surge of power that again surged his veins, “I am thou, and I will see my - our - plan to its conclusion. Because you know why,”

“Because-”

“Because I get things done.” Joker stated, interrupting Ren as he snarled with superiority, “I always get things done. You. You get nothing done. I always do, I will succeed in our plan, I will see my play come to its intended conclusion, and I WILL get our friends to our side, so we can finally get what we deserve,”

“You won’t, because the others will stop you,” Ren said, though he quickly knew he was losing his argument the further Joker’s amused grin twitched wider, “They’ll save me, they’ll change my heart, they’ll-”

Ren choked a sob, Joker’s eyes widened abruptly, and the shadow stumbled back, clutching the red fabric of his waistcoat tightly, crashing into the wall behind him as he gasped.

It was another surge, more powerful than before, Joker groaned as his head spun, dizzying sensations clutched his consciousness as his eyesight blurred, tears welling up the corners of his eyes, and he could feel his heart twist in his chest. It was the same feeling he’d experience with Haru, the same sensations he felt taunting his other, yet as he looked at the horrified expression Ren had on his face with forgotten tears freshly streaking his face did he finally realise where these sensations came from.

Joker laughed as the surge fizzled away as fast as it had arrived as he sat on the floor, lying against the wall as he looked at Ren who was dumbfounded by what he just had witnessed. Joker allowed himself to relax before he clambered back onto his feet, the surge leaving him a shaky mess as he supported himself with a hand on the wall. He took a minute for himself gathering his breaths as he slumped against the wall, all the while Ren observed him with perplexed, fearful eyes.

“Hah, what a revelation,” Joker exclaimed breathlessly, straightening his posture and turning to Ren, “To think we learned something about the Metaverse during our chats, and I thought Mona had told us everything,”

“You’re insane, you really are,”

“Hmm, I wouldn’t describe myself as such,” Joker shrugged, “Then again, I’m-”

“Don’t say it,”

“Then don’t make me,” Joker laughs before turning towards the exit, a hand resting on the doorknob, “Anyway, I’ll make sure to get you some water so you don’t dehydrate yourself, and in something that you can’t easily smash or use to spill onto the controls,” he added, “I’m not an idiot.”

With his last remark, Joker closed the door behind him, leaving Ren alone with the numerous screens, some of them empty, some of them with plays that played repeatedly, and some of them looping footage of Haru’s saddened expression, of his friends, fighting and bickering. He closed his eyes, trying to drown the incessant chatter that surrounded him.

But he had hope. Hope for his friends in reaching him, hope that he was able to hold his sanity together, hope that they’d change his heart, that they’ll persevere, that they’ll be able to fight through whatever his twisted Palace had in store for them, and whatever Joker had prepared for them.

Because, he knew he had to, or allow his twisted heart to consume him entirely.

FLOWER MEANINGS Sunflower - Respect, Passionate Love, Radiance. Iris - Good News,Glad Tidings, Loyalty Gentle - Gentle. Daffodil - Respect. Carnation - Fascination, Distinction, and Love Anemone - Protection from evil, Forsaken, Expectations. White Rose - Innocence, Silence, Devotion. Narcissus - Self-Esteem Cyclamen and Sweet Pea - Resignation, Good-bye. Lotus -  Purity, Chastity. Marigold - Grief, Despair, Jealousy / God’s Perfect Light. Red Spider Lily - Never to meet again, Lost memory, Abandonment TRANSLATE Bonjour mon invité, je suis de retour - Hello my guest, I have returned.

[thepancakeboi]

60. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong, and don’t try lying to me.”

Divergence AU Part III

Previous | Next | AU list | Prompt source

Fanfic under cut

11/16

“Hey, you okay?”

I glance up from the drink I’ve been staring at for the past five minutes, meeting Ren’s inquisitive gray eyes. “I’m fine. I was simply listening to the song.”

Ren doesn’t look convinced. “Akeppi-”

“I told you not to call me that in public,” I interrupt in a hushed whisper. Granted, we’re the only patrons currently in the jazz club, but still. I don’t even know why he calls me that. He just randomly said it after our fight in Mementos a couple of weeks ago and has continued to use it since.

“You’ve barely said anything since we left Penguin Sniper. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I...have nothing to say.”

That’s a lie, of course, and Ren knows it. So much has been on my mind the past month. During our first foray into Sae’s Palace, I had hesitantly told them about the plan to kill Ren. I also told them about my identity as “the man in the black mask”, but only because Makoto and Morgana had figured it out and confronted me about it. I still can’t believe that I’m working with them like this. They...accept me, to some degree. I hadn’t expected them to completely trust me, but they’re all naive enough to not condemn me for what I’ve done. Even Haru and Futaba, the two people who should hate my guts, aren’t hostile to me. They should be, though.

I have so many things I want to say, but...

“Goro?” Ren sounds worried. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” I say, dismissing his concerns with a wave of my hand.

“It isn’t ‘nothing’. You can tell me.”

“It is,” I snap, my friendly facade breaking for a brief moment. It’s become harder than ever to keep the mask on, to hide what lurks beneath the superficial nature I present to the world. “You needn’t concern yourself over the bastard son of a rotten father.”

“Who’s your father?” Ren immediately asks.

“What?”

“What’s your father’s name?”

A strangled laugh escapes my lips. He doesn’t even realize it yet. How would he, though? My father and the man we’re currently after are one and the same. “Why would you care? He’s not important to our current mission.”

“I want you to be happy. Isn’t that enough of a reason?”

“It’s a foolish reason.” I go back to staring intently at my drink as if it’ll give me all the answers I need. It won’t, but at least I won’t have to look Ren in the eye as he tries to get me to open up to him. I don’t need his help.

He hums as he continues to look for a clue to solve his own questions. “That’s not what’s bothering you, is it?”

“Of course not.”

“So there is something wrong.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you didn’t say nothing’s wrong.”

He’s right. I should have denied it. With a huff, I chug down the remainder of my drink and stand up, stalking out of the jazz club without a word. This was a waste of time. My thoughts are still there, like a tumultuous storm clouding my judgment. Maybe what I need is a solid blow to the head to knock me out for the next several days. Then I wouldn’t have to...

I stop, turning around. Ren stands a few feet away from me. He must have followed me out. “What are you doing?”

“We weren’t done talking.”

“Well, I am.” Of course, when I go to leave him behind yet again, Ren doesn’t seem to get the hint. I whirl around, nearly about to smack some sense into him as he grabs ahold of my wrist. “What the hell do you want?”

“I want you to tell me what’s the matter.”

He doesn’t even seem fazed by my reaction, a reaction so out of character for detective prince Goro Akechi. He still has that damn concerned look on his face. I try to pull the pieces of that fake personality back together, but my words ring hollow as I respond, “Look, all I need is some time to myself. Just leave me be.”

“That hasn’t been working for you, has it?” No, it hasn’t been. “I told you I’d always be there for you. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong, and don’t try lying to me.”

“Ren, I’m fi-”

“Do you trust me?”

The question is completely unexpected. “I...I want to.” But I don’t know how...when I barely even trust myself.

“Then let’s go to Leblanc and we can talk this over.”

I shake my head. “That would take too long.”

“It doesn’t have to be Leblanc. Wherever you need to go to feel comfortable talking to me.”

I can only think of one place other than Leblanc, but...would it be weird to...? “Would you be okay with coming with me to my apartment? It’s not too far from here.”

“Sure.” He nods, though why he’s smiling I have no idea. Maybe it’s because I’m confiding in him after all.

We walk to my apartment in comfortable silence. As we weave our way through the streets, Ren slowly slips his hand from my wrist into my hand. I side-eye him curiously. Why is he doing this? It’s not like I’m trying to actively lose him in a crowd. I don’t object to it, though. For some reason, I almost...welcome his hand in mine. Even when we arrive at my apartment and find ourselves sitting side by side on the futon, he’s still holding my hand.

And I...don’t want him to let go?

Damnit, I must be more emotionally compromised than I thought.

I don’t even know when I started giving a shit about Ren. I’ve been spending more and more time with him than I ever had during the summer. He never refuses me. He’s spent all of today with me after school ended for him. It doesn’t make any sense. Why would he ever want to spend any length of time with his future murderer?

That’s the root of my problems, isn’t it? The counterplan the Phantom Thieves have come up with is daring, reckless, and honestly is one huge gamble. I don’t normally doubt myself, but it’s going to take a lot of luck for Ren to get out of this alive...

“Goro?”

The way he says my name, gently prying to find out what’s been occupying my thoughts, nearly breaks my composure.

But I can’t let him know my doubts...my fears.

Yes, I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’m going to shoot him in the head, for real. That Ren Amamiya, the second year at Shujin who so quickly enthralled me and became my antithesis, will die in an interrogation cell all because he got caught up in a plot where he can’t even begin to see the full picture.

“I don’t...want you to die.”

“I won’t die.”

“How can you be sure about that!? You’ll be completely defenseless, and I-” My words catch in my throat, but I force myself to say them regardless. “I have to pull the trigger. I won’t be able to prevent that. There won’t be a second chance if we fail.”

“We won’t fail.” He sticks his free hand in one of his pockets. When he pulls it out, he has my glove in his hand. “We still have a promise to keep.”

“I can’t believe you have that stupid thing.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

I have no response to that. Instead, I respond with, “And you just so happen to have it with you.”

“I’ve had it with me since you gave it to me. And do you wanna know why? Because it’s from you.” He gently squeezes my hand, a lopsided grin spreading unbidden on his face. I had forgotten that he’s still holding my hand. “You’re my treasure.”

My eyes widen. “I’m your...what?”

“I mean it. I may be a Phantom Thief, but you’re the one who stole my heart.”

My stomach clenches. I try to ignore this feeling, for now. “Was that supposed to be a pickup line? If so, that’s the cheesiest one I’ve ever heard. And trust me, I’ve heard some extremely stupid ones.”

“What if it was?”

“I’d chastise you for your timing since you could be dead in four days.”

“I’m not going to die. I still have stuff I need to do.”

“Like what, fight a god?” I ask with just a touch of sarcasm.

He laughs at that. “No. But maybe I will just to prove to you that I can.”

I laugh as well, although mine is forced and devoid of any mirth. This time, I make sure he can hear my sarcasm as I reply, “Oh, that’s just brilliant. You’re going to fight god because you can.”

“And win, just for you,” he says with a wink, grinning at the prospect. My first thought is “what the hell is wrong with this boy”, followed immediately by “I think I love him”.

Oh.

So, that’s what this feeling is. How did I not realize sooner? It’s painfully obvious in hindsight. He’s the one person I’ve taken an actual interest in for a long time. Life always feels better when he’s around. But does he feel the same? No, he couldn’t. He can’t love someone as rotten as me. My heart refuses to listen to logic, though. Tentatively, I ask, “You’d really fight a god for me?”

“Yup!” Ren answers almost immediately. Yawning a little, he leans back against the futon and arcs his back for a moment. The motion almost reminds me of a cat. “Hey, Akeppi?”

There’s that dumb nickname again, though I can’t say we’re in public this time. “What?”

“It was a pickup line.”

I try to laugh it off as a joke. He cannot be serious. I don’t care if I hope that he means it; it’s not possible. “Surely you jest. I’m sure you have girls falling head-over-heels for you.”

“I may be Joker, but I’m not joking about my feelings towards you.”

“I lied. That is the cheesiest pickup line I’ve ever heard.”

“Is it working?”

I’m silent for a while, unsure of how to respond. I can’t deny that I feel something for the raven-haired boy sitting next to me. It’s complicated. Everything about him, from the way he looks at me with those beautiful gray eyes to the way he plays with his bangs when he’s lost in his thoughts to even the hum he makes when he’s thinking, it’s all so...perfect. I don’t deserve someone as special as him. I don’t. Yet here he is, willing to give me a chance. But, there’s no time for this silly romance cliche between us, not until Ren is decidedly not going to die at my hands. “Let’s just focus on surviving the rest of this week first.”

“Okay,” he replies. He doesn’t seem upset, which is a good sign. “Are you going to be okay tonight? If you want, I could stay the night.”

I shouldn’t even be surprised that he’s the one who suggests that first. “I...I suppose...but don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure Kawakami’ll cover for me.”

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you-”

“Don’t worry, you aren’t,” he immediately interjects, taking the opportunity to lean against me.

We must have managed to fall asleep there, because the next thing I know, it’s morning. Ren is still resting comfortably against me. People say that seeing someone sleeping makes them look more adorable, and now I can see why. His hair gently falls into his eyes, his lips parted ever so slightly as he dreams. Hoping not to disturb him, I place a soft, little kiss on his forehead. He continues to blissfully sleep. I don’t know if I’m imagining it or not, but I swear his lips twitched into a smile for a brief moment. I can’t help but smile wistfully back, even if he doesn’t see it. My voice is barely a whisper as I give words to the thoughts in my head.

“I love you, Ren. Please...don’t die.”

[seasaltmemories]

Free-fall

Rating: T

Summary: Ren and Akechi try to learn to land with grace, Third Semester spoilers

As Morgana’s footsteps began to fade away, Ren couldn’t decide if he welcomed the privacy or not.

Akechi stood besides LeBlanc’s counter, with that same taut expression that he had taken up as his latest disguise.  Ever since he started wearing it, Ren had wanted to watch what would happen if all that tension came undone--if he could pull back the lines of Akechi’s face like a bowstring and see what he would fire.  Akechi’s sudden appearance Christmas Eve had felt like another game of his, a mystery he planned purely so he could solve it in front of Ren’s eyes with that smug grin of his.  As important as dealing with Maruki’s palace was, a small part of Ren had hoped he could also use some of the preparation time to rip off the mask and finally meet his murderer eye to eye.

But right now, as Maruki’s word rang around in his head, it was all Ren could do to keep from being the one who went off.  No matter how many times it happened, he could never get used to that feeling of being caught off guard.  It reminded him too much of the sensation of falling.  Even in the best of cases, even when he had willingly threw himself out a casino window, free-fall meant you were placing your life in fate’s hands.  Being a Phantom Thief was all about trying to at least control your descent.

Akechi shot him a glance, red-wine eyes effortlessly pinning him back to Earth.  Ren realized he should probably say something at least, but when he opened his mouth, no words came to him.  So instead he stood, hoping to give himself more time to conjure up some level of coherency.

“I will carve my own path for myself.”  Akechi broke the silence.  “I refuse to accept a reality concocted by someone else, stuck under their control for the rest of my days.”

They were awfully pretty words; when Ren had first woken up in this dreamlike world, he had come to a similar sentiment almost immediately.  Yet it was hard to muster that same adolescence rebellion now that the cost of such a choice was staring at him right in the face.

“All you have to do is stick to your guns and challenge Maruki.”  Akechi’s voice dropped to a low growl. “Or are you really so spineless that you’d fold over some bullshit, trivial threat on my life?”

He’s baiting him.  It was obvious; Akechi always brought out that sorta of crass venom when he he wanted to destroy any trace of the Detective Prince, any semblance of camaraderie, but as much as Ren knew so, it was easier to fight with Akechi than be honest.

“Do you get so sick satisfaction from all this?”  He nearly didn’t recognize his own voice at first, but after holding his tongue for so long, he didn’t have the strength to control his temper.  “I’ve never seen such suicidal spite in my entire life.”

“What makes you think I’m doing this for you and your hero complex?”  His words came out level and smooth, but their controlled nature did little to mask the edge in his voice.  “Do you think I would be happy with this?  Being shown mercy now, of all times?”

Ren could feel a similar sharpness building in his own throat.  If they were both pulling out their knives, then he might as well go ahead and twist it.  “I’ve never seem anyone quite so pathetic.”

Akechi froze.  Then something dangerous flickered in his eyes.  When he raised his hand to strike, Ren let himself be hit.

As pain blossomed across his cheek, Ren tried to memorize the sensation.  If he couldn’t remember Akechi’s genuine attempt on his life, maybe this would remind him that there were better targets of sympathy than his would-be murderer.

But maybe Akechi had been write about suggesting he had a hero complex, because the notion of just standing by when anyone was suffering unnecessarily made him chafe.  (A small voice inside of Ren whispered that Akechi was not just any one.)

“Your indecisiveness on the matter is essential a betrayal of my wishes.”  Akechi murmured in a shuddering breath.  And maybe Akechi was right about Ren’s hero complex, because in that moment, hearing such distress nearly cut him right in too.  Yet before he could get lost in the sentiment, he remembered what exactly it was he was being asked to do.

In a compromise of sorts, too tired to fight yet too tired to put away his weapons, he reached forward until his hand wrapped around Akechi’s neck.  Ren’s grip was loose, but with just the right amount of pressure he could strangle him with ease.  Yet despite the precarious position, Akechi only stared at him with cool regard.

“Do you want to die?”  It felt distasteful to actually voice the question, but it was conclusion Ren could craft together with what little material Akechi had given him.  “Is that the only way you’re ever going to be happy?”

It occurred to Ren this might be how Maruki saw them: a pair of drowning men who preferred to pull each other under rather than be saved.

Yet for whatever vulnerabilities Ren had managed to rip from the two of them, Akechi put on that distant mask without a second thought. “I want to hear you say it aloud.  What do you intend to do?”

If he was going to lose Akechi no matter what, it might be better to go ahead and rip off the band-aid himself.

Ren grabbed Akechi by his collar and smashed their mouths together.  The kiss was far from whatever he had imagined it to be.  Their teeth clanked together, Akechi barely reacted with much more than numb shock, but when Ren pulled away, he felt some sort of closure he hadn’t since back in November.

“I’ll leave the decision up to you.”  Ren shifted his weight so that at least they could fall together.

A.N. Basically my attempt to get my complex feelings about these two out, as i see a lot of their dynamic as Joker being frustrated at what a little bitch Akechi can be while still unwillingly enamored

[theexistentiallyqueer]

For the writing meme, 65 and 177 both gave me shuake vibes. Pick whichever you like better :)

66. I didn’t tell you that I love you because I wanted to hear it back. I told you because I needed you to know.

177. You’re a coward, (Name)! You hide away this entirely different part to yourself all because you’re afraid that someone might get close to you! You’re afraid that someone might just care about you more than you think you deserve. That - that isn’t fair.

I wound up taking both prompts and combining them without actually replicating the dialogue in question, because I’m kind of allergic to that. Mild spoilers for P5R.

I’m taking prompts! Please specify the fandom and pairing. I’m currently into shuake, okujima, and edeleth, but I may be open to other pairings or characters.

———————————————————-

November 17th and the air has a bitter bite, a good excuse to stay in with hot drinks and good food. November 17th and the deadline to steal Sae’s treasure is two days away, pulling them in with the promise of bloodshed. November 17th and Akira is in the attic of Leblanc, coffee and curry downstairs forgotten because he’s too busy exploring what the inside of his would-be murderer’s mouth tastes like.

(Coffee and curry, the mild kind sweetened with pineapple and carrot, and something beneath that’s sharp and bitter, almost like blood. Akira knows that taste exactly. He bit his tongue when Arsene finally came to him and his body’s vitality had spilled into his mouth, hot as copper and just as angry.)

The boy leaning over him is thin and immaculate, even in disarray: necktie loose, shirt disheveled and unbuttoned down to the collarbone, his carefully-styled hair disturbed by Akira’s curiously greedy hands. His eyes are ferrous and bright, the edge of his stare dulled in the heady cloud of bad life choices. Akira drinks in the sight of him, reaches up to brush his fingers along the sharp line of his jaw. How can one boy be so beautiful? Akechi slides a tentative hand up the flat plane of Akira’s chest beneath his shirt, bare palm against bare skin. His knee is pinned to the futon between Akira’s leg, and he doesn’t know if the way it brushes up against him is purposeful or an accident, but Akira sees stars.

“I think I might change my mind about being rivals,” Akira says breathlessly, only half-joking. “Are you still taking applications for a sidekick?”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Akechi shudders and pulls violently away.

“I need to go,” Akechi says, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, deny, deny, deny written into every awkward movement of his body. He pulls his gloves on next. He won’t meet Akira’s eyes.

(There’s a briefcase downstairs with an embossed capital A on the

outside and a gun, probably, on the inside. There’s a bullet in the

chamber of that gun with Akira’s name on it, use by date two steps away and counting.)

An old physics teacher once told him that if all of the molecules of your body vibrated at the same frequency as the molecules of another object, you could pass your hand through it like moving through water. Akira knows the molecules of his body are definitely doing something, if the way his skin seems to ache from how hot he feels (where Akechi touched him) and how warm he doesn’t (where he didn’t). He feels Akechi pulling away like being plunged into a bathtub filled with ice, every point of contact that was sparking with pleasure now sparking with needlepoint pains instead.

“Akechi–” Akira tries, swallowing around his tongue, which feels too thick and uncomfortable in his mouth now that it’s been inside another’s. He doesn’t know how to finish the sentence.

What Akira wants to say is: I listened to your phone call and I still want to kiss you until we both forget how to breathe.

What Akira wants to say is: I know there’s a bullet in your gun with my name on it, and I think I’d let you shoot me if you asked me.

What Akira wants to say is: I don’t think I’ve ever felt known in my entire life until I met you. I don’t think I’ve ever really known anyone the way I know you. I want you to feel the same. Feel the same. Please feel the same.

Akechi finishes straightening his tie, once more that kind of put-together that’s carefully crafted for a camera and not nearly as appealing as he’d looked only moments before. He still won’t meet Akira’s gaze. “Saturday at the courthouse. Noon is a good time, I hope?”

Akira takes a breath and lets it out, feels the way gravity hooks its claws into him and drags his heart down with it.

“Yeah,” Akira says. “See you then.”

——————————

“It’s not a small thing,” Akira says abruptly. He keeps his gaze on his cup, studying the tiny currents of milk and coffee eddying in its depths. He doesn’t see the way Akechi lifts his eyes to stare at Akira and then glare balefully away, but he can feel it, or at least he thinks he can.

“What isn’t?” Akechi asks, his voice clipped and short. He knows the answer. Akira knows he knows it. Akechi knows he knows it. Whose game are they playing at this point?

“Your life.” Akira looks up and catches Akechi’s eye before he can turn away. It’s a ruddy red and brown, full of not enough anger. “Your life’s not a small thing. Not to me.”

“That’s not–” Akechi begins, a furious snarl in his voice. It’s a sound that echoes viscerally in Akira, that propensity towards rage, and he leans in on impulse and grabs Akechi’s hand. Akechi cuts off in surprise, staring down at where their hands are joined but not pulling away.

“It’s not a small thing,” Akira repeats, lifting his free hand to brush the fine hairs away from Akechi’s face. Akechi shudders but doesn’t pull away. There’s been something in seeing him this past month cutting loose in a way that Akira has always wanted to but won’t ever let himself do that’s felt more freeing than anything.

“I’ve seen what you’ve seen and I’m not running away,” Akira tells him. “We’ll fight Maruki and I’ll drag you back with me afterwards.”

Akechi moves to draw back, but Akira won’t let him. He won’t let Akechi pull away now, so Akira instead pulls him in.

“Don’t be stupid,” Akechi says, his voice sharp. “His position is strong and the hold he has over reality is–”

Akira cuts him off before he can finish. “I’m going to need you to stop being logical for one fast hot fucking second.”

Akechi snaps his mouth shut and narrows his eyes, radiating fury. Something electric races up Akira’s spine.

Akira leans into him, leans into Akechi until he’s stumbling back into the bar behind him and bracing his body against in, against Akira’s invasive presence. Akira leans into him and kisses him. He doesn’t push Akira away, doesn’t withdraw, instead kisses him back with a focus that’s hungrier than Akira’s own. It’s nice to have greed matched for greed. Akira pulls Akechi’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucks on it. There’s that same sweet-salt tang of copper again, that taste of blood on open water. Akechi whines, low and restrained, fisting a hand in Akira’s hair, and Akira laughs an Arsene laugh into his mouth, breathing the same air he breathes.

“Stop running from this,” Akira tells him when they break apart, each of them gasping for air. Akira leans in–Akechi lets him, and brushes his mouth against the shell of Akechi’s ear, drinks in the way Akechi restrains his shudder. Akira rests a hand on his knee and runs it up, up, up, thumb dragging over the corded muscles in Akechi’s thigh that twitches beneath his fingers. “Goro. Goro. Be fair. You can’t tell me to give up on you and not acknowledge what we have. You can’t–”

There’s a bright, furious gleam of ruby in Goro’s eyes, the shining facet of some precious stone in his ruddy irises. His mouth is nearly as red, lips swollen and dark as crushed cherries, and even more inviting. “You don’t even know what you’re asking. Do you realize how selfish that is?”

Akira laughs, and leans in, and kisses him again. “More or less selfish than letting you go?”

[illuma-can-you-not-i]

Every time Sojiro Sakura was the entire Phantom Thieves' Dad: Akechi

Sojiro may be getting older, but he certainly wasn't getting any dumber.

He saw the pain behind Akira's eyes when he stepped through the door after being held in police custody and--god--getting shot in the face. He had no trouble finding the bags under the poor boy's eyes after a sleepless night. He heard the cracks in the boy's voice from screaming in his nightmares. He remembered, clear as day, when the poor boy stepped through his cafe door and ran to him in tears. And since then, there's been a hint of sadness, of grief, every time he spoke. For a while there, he retreated back into his shell, turning into the quiet, resigned boy he met in April, who just stood and nodded and took whatever was given to him.

So when the light-brown-haired teenager responsible for all that trouble, all that pain, casually stepped through his door, he just about choked on his cigarette.

"You better as hell have a good reason as to why I don't send you out right now.", the man growled. Despite the offensive tone, though, the teen didn't seem intimidated or apprehensive. In fact, it was almost as if he hardly had any emotion at all. "...I just came back from the dead?", he attempted with dry humor, wincing as he felt the energy in the room. Sojiro gave him a cold glare. "...And... I'm here... to apologize.", he admitted with a much softer tone. Sojiro scoffed. "You tried to kill my son, tried to frame my kids, all for some political sham. How do you think you could possibly apologize enough to have me forgive you?"

Akechi gave a long, quiet sigh. "I do not require your forgiveness. I am simply here to tie up loose ends.", was his reasoning as he carefully took a seat at the bar. His tone was quiet, and his wording was slow and deliberate; he was choosing his words very carefully.

"You see, I would like to say that my mental state is a recent development, but...that would be a lie.", he started, staring at the dark drown wood of the counter with a fixed concentration. "I admit that I may not know you all that well, but I doubt you've ever had to deal with abandonment, Sakura-san.", the boy who had eyes far too old for a teenager's almost whispered, barely glancing up at the man before returning to stare at the countertop. The day that he was given the news of Wakaba's passing came to mind. The first time he had looked into Futaba's eyes since she had followed after. "I doubt you've ever had to deal with the feeling of hopelessness, the despair that comes from it. The realization that you never had a purpose, that you didn't belong in this world.", he described in a smooth tone of voice, as if he was telling a whimsical story to a child.

"I was a nuisance, and no one wanted me. I had no chance of going on. So, when a man in power offers you a job position that allows you to be a monumental stepping stone in a grand scheme of change, to bring about the better of society, who was I to even consider denial?"

Goro still remembers his own awakening, clear as day. The day, the hour, the moment Robin Hood offered to allow him to grant justice to those who had been cruelly turned away from it. He also remembered the first time Loki offered him the better deal. Justice was only part of his desire, he had realized. It was revenge he was truly after. Even if it was secondhand. Revenge for the people who turned him away, revenge for the sorry excuse of a father who had left him, revenge for the group of teenagers, actual children who had fought against him, everything he had stood for, and yet, naively, still tried to treat him as an equal.

But he never was.

That much has always been obvious.

"Cool story, still murder.", Sakura remarked with a cold tone, trying to withhold a scoff. All the sob stories in the world don't make up for the fact that he is still a murderer. He consciously and intentionally took lives, while having every opportunity to step down, to say no, and didn't.

Akechi didn't seem taken aback in the slightest, however. In fact, he looked to the man, as if expecting him to insult the teen further. He looked back down at the cup when he realized it wasn't the case. "True. I truly have no excuse for my actions. I had become twisted. I was cruel and ruthless and delusional.", he described, his own crazed laugh echoing through his mind like a ringing in his ears. "But now, by some divine power, I suppose, I stand here again. And this time, I'm going to make sure that I put my best foot forward.", he finished, giving Sakura a little fake smile that looked all too familiar to the one he would flash on TV to persuade an audience. Needless to say,  it didn't work.

"That's great and all, but how do I know I can trust you?" Akechi smiled, clearly expecting this question. "Well, for one, I'm no longer a 'Detective Prince'. I don't have any sort of authority; if that soothes your worry any.", he started with an apathetic tone. Sojiro furrowed his brows in confusion and a little bit of surprise.

The young man looked back down at the counter after seeing his expression. "Surprisingly, the police force was unwilling to give a man who was supposed to be dead his job back.", the harsh passive-aggressiveness in his voice was enough to make the man grimace. "That's rough, buddy.", he remarked, offering a light-hearted sort of sympathy. Akechi huffed out a bit of a laugh in response. "I just can't believe they replaced me so quickly.", he remarked as Sojiro put a fresh cup of coffee in front of him.

Glancing rapidly between the cup and the man, Akechi slowly took the cup and gave a little sip. A nostalgic feeling swept over him, almost overwhelming his senses. He almost welcomed it, though trying to fight the feeling of the comforting atmosphere letting him relax. He was here on a mission: to apologize, explain himself, and begin the process of turning over a new leaf. And so, he continued on.

"Secondly, everything I could have listed as a motive turned out to be a hoax, planned on the basis of my utter ignorance. Just getting used again, with the plan of getting swept under the carpet when all is said and done.", he described, taking a long sip of the warm beverage, keeping the cup in his hands as he thought aloud. The teen shook his head, a look of frustration at himself taking over.

"It was plain as day, too. But I actually thought that a man who employed me to take out his enemies while he put on a public face was actually going to go through on his deal." As he spoke, his eyes glassed over, void of any emotion. He took a final swig of the coffee and barked a short, humorless laugh. "God, I'm gullible.", he chided under his breath with a heavy sigh.

Akechi set his money on the table and stood up, bowing in gratitude for the hospitality. "I'm off to the courthouse. See if they can legally make me not dead. I'll contact the others when I'm done. May get a haircut while I'm at it.", he listed off, absent-mindedly grabbing the end of a strand of hair and twisting it beneath his fingers.

"Oh, Kaori runs a salon not far from the subway station.", he offered, before his mind finally clicked with what had left his mouth. He really just called Ryuji's mom by her first name, huh. "She, uh, she's cheap, in comparison to most in the area. Does a good service. Plus, if you manage to convince him to go with you, I'm pretty sure she does Ryuji's friends for free." "I didn't realize you two were close." Sojiro shrugged, crossing his arms as he looked away in embarrassment. "It's a recent development.", he quickly explained, trying to get away from the conversation topic.

"Am I on good terms with you?", the teenager slowly asked, looking down at the floor in anticipation. Sojiro took a huff of his cigarette, taking the opportunity to really get a look at the kid before making his decision. The way he stood there, awaiting his decision, reminded him an awful lot of Akira when he first walked into the cafe. In that case, the two of them did seem awfully similar. Both were dealt a shitty hand from the beginning, given an opportunity to fix it, and that's where they began to separate.

A part of the man groaned, going on about how he should have kicked him out from the start, not to listen to a word that this guy had to say. But another part of him knew that people could, can, and will change. After all, Akira was far from the same kid he was back in April. Maybe Akechi could change too, if given the right push.

"...Getting there. Starting, at least.", he summarized. Goro perked up, looking at the man with wide eyes; he was genuinely surprised by that answer. "More specific, please?", he asked, his voice barely above a whispering volume. The man sighed, scratching his chin as he tried to put the details into words. "For everything you put them through, both my kids and so many other people, I still don't forgive you, not for a second, but... I won't turn you away at the door."

The wide eyes softened, showing a sign of relief as the teen visibly relaxed at the response. It was just speculation, but Sakura thought he had seen a spark of joy in his expression as well. A more genuine smile began to take form as he looked at the man, and kept his gaze there. "That's pleasing to hear. In that case, I hope to see you soon, Sakura-senpai.", he bid as a farewell, bowing again before making his leave.

[ceescedasticity]

director’s commentary

Dammit, tumblr, why much you make everything difficult.

Anonymous: Director’s commentary: Chapter four of Echoes in the Void, the conversation after they have to leave the Metaverse?

Oooooh, yes. This. Actually I think I’ll include a little earlier, too…

To recap, Goro started second term at Jikken, where the “evaluation period” was over and things were getting nasty/weird. The second day they held him after school and made him run laps after he reflexively tried to headbutt someone who got in his face; the third day they wanted to know why he wasn’t showing interest in any girls, and he made a cutting remark about their interest in the sexuality of fifteen-year-olds being creepy, and they made him run laps with no shoes, resulting in badly abraded feet.

This probably explained the bastinado rumors, anyway. Those had been rather implausible.

Goro wondered, distantly, whether it was a second offense thing, or they actually found mouthing off more of a problem than attempted head-butts. That seemed like the sort of thing they really ought to explain.

The punishments Jikken is dealing out are completely unreasonable, but their prioritizing of offenses actually isn’t completely illogical. The attempted headbutt was because his instincts felt physically threatened and there was no choice or thinking about it involved. He knew it was a bad idea to make a nasty remark and did anyway. Therefore the second is a worse offense. And they definitely should have explained this.

Afterwards the school nurse was standing by to carefully clean the scrapes and apply antibiotics and bandages and lecture him about taking proper care of the injury.

Idk how many of my Start Again readers read my ‘Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind’ Homestuck fic? Jikken wants to be the goblins. They have all the bad ideas of the goblins about Fixing People, but they’re bad at it.

He couldn’t say what he thought about that. He must not say what he thought about that. Lashing out would make things even worse. Just smile. Just thank her. Just smile.

He was dissociating at least a little to deal with the pain, but having to act grateful about it is what pushed him over the edge into a prolonged episode. He’s done this before – locked himself away behind what is supposed to be Pleasant Goro, but… isn’t, exactly.

Afterwards he wasn’t hungry, so he skipped dinner. No one at the group home asked why he was limping. (Was he even limping? Both feet were equally injured, it wasn’t like he wanted to favor one of them.) His roommates noticed the bandages when he took off his slippers before bed.

“Fuck, look at pretty boy’s feet.”

“What the hell happened?”

“Ask him.”

“You ask him, he’s doing the psycho smile again.”

Goro tries to keep up Pleasant Goro appearances with the group home supervisors, but is really inconsistent about it with his roommates. They therefore both scorn him for being a pretty-boy suck-up and are kinda afraid of him for being vicious if you cross him. They generally don’t mess with him when there’s any chance he’d catch them at it.

(He dreamed blurrily of smiling, smiling as blood ran down the face of the first person he’d felt a connection to since—)

Canon!Akechi wasn’t dissociating the entire time, or for every murder, but that was how he dealt with Shido, and that was how he dealt with killing the closest thing he had to a friend.

The smile stayed in place the whole next day of school, too, through his math teacher accusing him of not paying attention and grilling him on properties of cotangents. It even stayed in place through the nurse checking on his feet and reprimanding him for not changing the bandages himself. But besides that mild scolding he wasn’t in trouble today, so he didn’t have to stay after. Good.

I wrote this and I’m still kind of shocked by the gall they have to scold him about not changing the bandages.

When he met Noir and Niijima — Noir and Queen, she was Queen in the Metaverse — outside the laboratory, Noir put a hand on Queen’s shoulder. “Crow?”

“Yes?”

“Are you… all right?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Haru is seeing a lot more of Future Akechi than she ever has before and is on high alert.

It was good to get back to work. Good to solve a puzzle lock with perfectly well-remembered properties of cotangents. When there turned out to be a Battle Fiend waiting behind the door, good to tear its fucking face off—

“What in—”

“Crow! Stand down!”

—with his bare hands it could just die make something else bleed—

The Shadow melted away into nothing, and he slammed a fist on the floor. And again. And again. And again, because at least he could feel it his face was about going numb—

From an outside perspective Goro just went from creepy plastic smile to berserker rage with zero warning. Haru isn’t as shocked as she might be because she knew the creepy plastic smile wasn’t good and she knew what Akechi was capable of, but she still wasn’t expecting attacking a Shadow with his bare hands.

“Amrita drop!”

Goro jolted. Stilled.

Probably Makoto suggested the Amrita drop, because it sure looks like a status effect, and Haru thought it was worth a try. Why did it work, when it wasn’t actually caused by a spell? Maybe because it basically was a status effect? Who knows, cognition is weird.

His hand hurt. His feet hurt. His face hurt. His mask was completely blocking his peripheral vision.

The more isolated and closed-off he is, the more his mask looks like a helmet.

“Did that work?” Queen asked anxiously, somewhere behind him. “If it wasn’t a spell that caused it—”

“I don’t know, I’ve never— Now he’s hyperventilating.”

“No I’m not,” Goro said, or at least tried to. It came out garbled and wheezy.

“I’m going to—”

“Yes, good idea.”

The hallway blurred around him, and then they were outside the Palace. Goho-M.

“Crow?” Noir said. “We’re going back to the real world, and then we’re going to want to move fairly quickly. Is it safe for Queen to take your arm?”

Okay, this is back to the volatile but human Goro who Haru has  known since coming back in time, and in clear distress. She still wants  to know what the fuck just happened, but she knows who she’s dealing with, now. …And she knows that who she’s dealing with is someone you don’t touch without warning if you can avoid it.

Goro tried to get his breathing under control. “Just. Just a. Minute.” Sit on the ground. Knees up. Head between his knees. Breathe. “Just a minute.”

They gave him the minute.

How novel.

Not sure this needs to be commentary since it’s basically text, but he is not used to people listening to him about his mental/emotional needs.

“All right,” Goro said finally. “Just — slowly.”

Queen did indeed move slowly enough that it didn’t set off any panic responses, and carefully helped him to his feet. “Where are we going to go to talk about this?” she hissed, presumably at Noir. “Should we have gone to a safe room instead?”

“No, I don’t think being in the Metaverse is doing him any good right now,” Noir replied. “I’ve noticed a park about two blocks south — there’s a picnic shelter which shouldn’t be visible from the street. We can talk there.”

Oh joy.

Maybe he could run away instead.

He probably wouldn’t have run away even if he could have, he’s too invested in this group by now, and he trusts them more than anyone else, but he would’ve been tempted. He really doesn’t want to talk about this.

It turned out he could not, in fact, run away, as the second they returned to the real world the distant throbbing in his feet turned to raw agony, and his knees buckled for a second. Niijima had to support him. She didn’t, mercifully, offer to try to carry him.

“Is there something wrong with his—?”

“I guess so, come on, we’ll ask about that, too—”

Goro stared at the sidewalk as they walked and tried not to wonder what they wanted to talk about, exactly. Instead he wondered if it was sweat or blood making the bandages feel damp. It could be sweat. But if it was blood, and he bled through his socks… he hadn’t budgeted for new shoes, this could be a problem.

He’s not exactly dissociating at this point, but he’s not exactly fully engaged with his surroundings, either. Although having to buy new shoes WOULD be a problem for him, so the tangent isn’t out of nowhere.

So when they reached the picnic shelter, he sat down and started taking his shoes off without prompting. “I may need to ask one of you to get me some plastic bags… Good.” It looked like only traces of blood had penetrated the socks, so his shoes were safe. “But I will need some plastic bags. And bandages…”

There was a rather loaded silence.

“What. Happened,” Noir said.

They were not expecting to see blood. Real-world injuries isn’t something either of them has had to deal with a lot.

There was probably some way to avoid the question, but— “Running laps. Without shoes.”

“Without— Does that happen often?” Niijima demanded.

“It can’t be that often per student or people’s feet would toughen up,” Goro said. “I don’t know. Often enough that they sterilize the track frequently, I think.”

“That’s barbaric.”

“Agreed,” Noir said. “But considering we did already see the principal’s cognitions of the teachers vivisecting cognitions of the students, it’s not… unexpected.”

“It’s not unexpected,” Goro agreed.

“What was unexpected was your showing up smiling like some sort of, of creepy talk show host, and then killing a Shadow with your bare hands, in some sort of… something that Amrita Drop apparently brought you out of. I was not expecting that.” Noir crossed her arms, and looked at him. Expectantly.

Aaaaaaand Haru has decided it’s going to be necessary to get him out of  that school. Because what the fuck. That’s not normal. That’s not even  your standard unacceptable physical discipline, that’s – what the fuck.  And clearly it’s bad for Goro in particular, because he still scared  her with his Future Akechi impression. Let’s get some answers about that  part; the school isn’t as much of a priority because she will remove it from the equation.

…Yeah, it had probably been too much to hope for that that would go unremarked. “That… I wasn't… I wasn’t planning on that. It just… happens sometimes.”

“Happens sometimes?” Noir said incredulously.

“Like… spontaneously?” Niijima asked.

And what a liability he’d be if it did. “Not… exactly. Do you know — I know you know, Noir — how sometimes you have to do something you don’t want to, but you also can’t let on that you don’t want to?” Niijima probably did, too, to a lesser extent.

“Yes…”

I’m not sure whether Goro has never encountered the concept of dissociation or if he refuses to connect it with his PERFECTLY HEALTHY COPING STRATEGY, SHUT UP, IT WORKS.

“Well, there's… a sort of… Sometimes I can… really hit my stride, I guess. Get so it gets easier to just… keep what I’m feeling separate. Keep me separate.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “So that’s good, but then sometimes — not often! — it sort of… overloads. And the overloads are worse in the Metaverse, for whatever reason.”

The purpose of Dissociation Goro is doing things necessary for his   goals/purposes that Regular Goro does not want to do or finds too   difficult. By ‘overloads’, he mostly means that sometimes Dissociation Goro apparently loses track of the goals and priorities of Regular Goro, and ends up doing unnecessary things.

“Probably the lack of consequences,” Noir said dryly.

“If my subconscious is counting on a lack of consequences for physically tackling Shadows, I’d like a few words with it.”

“…Point.”

It’s mostly that the cognitive world, with its Personas and Shadows running around, already his one’s consciousness a little more spread out than normal; it’s easier for the dissociation driver to get accidentally wired to input from the id or the intrusive thought generator.

“But if it originated in the real world, why did Amrita Drop work?” Niijima wondered. “Did it just shock you out of it? Is it because the… ailment was cognitive to start with?”

Goro shrugged again. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t have expected it to work.”

“Well, it’s good that it did,” Noir said. “Still, it would be better for it not to come up.”

“I'll… I agree, and. And I can try.”

I’m not 100% sure how he’s planning to try, here, without a strategy to get out of Jikken. Dissociation is still an important part of his toolbox of 500 variously functional coping mechanisms. But he doesn’t like going off the rails like that, he really relies on his self-control, and he agrees it’s not a good thing.

[demytasse]

[Shizaya] Firsts and Seconds

Super belated, but anon, it’s finally your lucky day! But wait! It’s double belated because it’s ALSO a Christmas fic. ( ´ヮ`);;

———

   It was was one of those days where the wind nipped colder than the atmosphere — lips bluer than depression, fingers red just as the prior autumn pantone. Where huffed breath upon frozen fingers made one a tempered dragon, the heat sufficient enough to ease the nipped pain, but hardly enough to actually matter. And the lowered sun lifted a blanket of fog from the rooftop to continue what poured from a set of asynchronous lungs; a duo of students just shy of center stage. The scene perfect for a captivated audience.

All to which was a was shame, that one teen’s emotions would be given in vain while performed above his slumbering peer.

   “Obnoxious fool…” Izaya jabbed the other’s down-turned nose which scrunched the same agitation as his own.

Collected, a comedic parody of his normal cacophony, Shizuo looked a victim of poisoned murder. The chainlink bowed at his curved spine, his body slumped into its clothing, while his features rested as if it were their final. Though the only thing dead was his cigarette burned up to his knuckles, as well as his conversation with Izaya that was killed before its arrival.

   “Was the nicotine really worth the vulnerability?”

As for Izaya, he crouched adjacent the scene of the crime like it’d be accurate to frame him. Disgust etched his face in response to his follow of an easy rise and fall of Shizuo’s chest. Mildly annoyed, he tried his own breath against the dry air to which he blamed his chapped throat on the beast before him. The very same whose temperature he checked the with the back of his hand behind an overhang of blond, as if that was the intent to touch him.

   “At least that hot-head is good for something.”

The strands fell out of their lay, overgrown yet not long enough to comply with any style Izaya tried to correct. It was curious to see the catastrophic mess up close unlike what he couldn’t from afar, which he combed the dirty colours together to examine the way it shined under new light. Izaya’s trial of intimacy turned into a pattern of habit. Easy, the way he worked natural oils into the ratty mop, and wove locks into silk at the will of his nimble fingers, while his admittance twisted around neurons and continued the process until it prickled awkward.

What a relief that the root of his feelings remained a conundrum to ponder over, rather than certainty that bode trouble.

Though the answer seemed similar to the bangs that finally accepted his coercion: unobstructed; and his conscience became well aware as warmth nestled into his palm.

Izaya was struck. He worried over that drop of sick in his stomach which tied up loose ends into a knot of an accursed notion.

It wasn’t love. At least he was wise enough to discern budding feelings from developed; but it certainly was a troubling mind contagion, a flirtatious dip into a ponderous subject he wasn’t privy. His knees shook, balance wobbled, his coherency wavered.

His coat of confidence billowed with the icy breeze while he enviously wished for the clear mind that Shizuo slept with — unaware, without a care, completely ignorant of Izaya’s transfixion. It was desire that he fed with a curious cup of Shizuo’s winterized cheeks and it fluttered his insecurity as he drew closer to count uneven breaths that quickened; may it be his own reverberated pulse or a combination of their two, he was roused the same. Izaya wished to be suffocated by his rival’s wafted heat; he pressed onward to share his own dwindled temperature with parted lips that unknowingly offered themselves. The feeling rode a wave sent down his spine while his rampant heart spread stifled oxygen through his veins and it overruled his mind. Innocent emotion or not, in that moment it matured. Technically Shizuo was coerced into a kiss, but for something initiated without consent it came easy. Stationary lips participated too well for them to be considered a puppet — it was odd, but hardly off-putting. It was audacious for a comatose participant.

Perhaps what Izaya played with was a doppelgänger: a Shizuo that mirrored the version that bumbled around his dream world and moved just like him with rough motion. His unplanned tactic of bruising emotion hurt Izaya’s chance of escaping, as if he’d want to, but it was ever more impossible as arms draped across his back and locked him in place. That musk piqued his senses in between held breath, only so much as an occasional taste, that’s when he rose his count of shallow intakes to make it a constant indulgence.

Devious hands weaseled around the tail of Izaya’s knitted scarf, once a taut obstruction around his neck now cast aside to expose the crook of his neck. His hair bristled as a clumsy massage worked at deep tissue; it was enough pleasure at mere touch, but the dig at sensitive muscle gave him to Shizuo’s lap in a tangle of his own legs.

He twisted into a straddle while avoiding their disconnect; situated his posture to grind into the other, well braced by the thighs that’d slid up to support his back.

The pace was set too inexperienced to be beautiful; it was raw teenage hormones that created tipsy sensations of a lightweight drunk. Still the honesty was persuaded out of them by the trick of blackout inhibitions. Izaya dug into Shizuo’s scalp, raked and knotted the unruly hair.

Shizuo trekked the path of Izaya's arched spine to the edge of his jacket and beyond to yank his shirt. Exposed to the elements he shivered — gasped as warmth quickly replaced cold, gurgled when hands travel beyond his waistband; a murmured giggle responded to the caress of his soft skin.  

But it was an alarm, that ring of delight. It flashed Shizuo aware and disturbed their ecstacy.

With shocked momentum, Izaya was thrown onto his back, his skull struct the ground upon accident. Instantly on guard, he shook; he didn’t want to pay for his actions, but Shizuo was often a harbinger of repercussion. The chill of concrete matched what dead eyes shimmered with sleep — what uncertain scowl left no room for a yawn.

   “What the hell, Izaya?” his voice quivered.

   “I could say the same to you, minus my name,” Izaya squinted to shade his widened pupils from the blinding sun, “but goodmorning all the same.”

   Shizuo yanked him forward by the scruff of his shirt, “don’t steal from me while I sleep, you scumbag.”

They were inches from where they once conjoined — the quick switch of blood flow harshed Shizuo’s cheeks, his features pinched from the ache at his head. Izaya welcomed his refocus with a wry smile.

   “Oh? Was that your first kiss?”

   Intuitively Shizuo slicked his lips, “yeah...” a curse hid just under his breath.

   “Not shocking.”

Though he was shocked that no immediate retaliation was cast. Izaya watched the other puzzle out his thoughts; he remained neutral in expression while he tallied the remaining leaves on distanced trees. To read Shizuo’s mind required a tilt of his perspective; from a different angle he was still unreadable, and it increased his worried with the past time.

   “...'s alright,” he struggled with his voice.

   “Is it?”

Shizuo nodded, far-off and dejected — perhaps in denial.

   “Is it?” Izaya stressed.

   “Maybe.”    “...maybe isn’t definitive, Shizu-chan. Try again.” Izaya hid behind his glib. Without an ounce of his usually abundant emotion Shizuo shrugged, his lost eyes realigned with a peculiar design.

Self-pity filled Izaya’s veins and within an instant he thrust that weakness against the brute’s chest.    “Get off me.”

Though it was hard to convince himself that it was what he wanted; it was increasingly difficult to counter his pin to the ground, what was an immovable force that imprinted the texture of tile onto his skin.

   “Can we just,” Shizuo pressed, “...talk?”

   “Funny, this is coming from the one who can barely form a thought. I don’t know why you’re asking me, of all people.”

   “...right.” Shizuo seemed shocked by the reminder of his own confusion, the concept lost on his absent mind. Likewise, Izaya was baffled by his rival’s even keel.

   “Are you going to answer me then?”

   “Answer what?”    Izaya sighed, “If you’re alright.”

   “With what?”

   “Is this Twenty Questions? If you want to be a detective so bad, consider this practice and figure it out for yourself, Akechi-san!”    His eyes widened, “I didn’t tell you tha—”    “Never mind.” Izaya curled his fingers tight around Shizuo’s forearm, his stare was stone. “Are you alright with this?” he punctuated each word as if extra time allowed him to determine what ‘this’ meant to him.

   “...not sure.”

   “Just answer me.”

   “STOP FORCING ME, ALREADY!”    “Then let me reiterate: get off.” The terse sentiment made Shizuo comply and let Izaya throw him off to the side.

Adept in his ability to flee, he hopped into a dash on the balls of his feet, sliced through the air with his loosely bladed hands; he staggered when blood refilled his calves and it threw his scarf off behind him to pile on the ground.

Izaya was aware of his cowardice, but he only cared enough to tsk himself as he reached the rooftop door. His knuckles bruised as he missed the handle, but hastily found it in a blind panic.

In between an annoyed screech of hinges and what would become a heavy clap of metal, a rasp addressed his wake — just as his feet hit the decline of stairs. The words were jumbled when he first received them, but after he reworked the order they formed a message that made sense.

       “Merry Christmas Eve, Izaya.”

Unpredictably the words caused Izaya to hate himself; he was a master of hidden language rendered useless. With his mind lost, most certainly for the rest of the day, he exited the school grounds early and allowed himself the holiday.

He sighed defeated and embarrassed.

   “Merry Christmas Eve, Shizu-chan.”

At least he’d finally deciphered his own word.

———

    Perhaps it was a little late for Shizuo's response; it had been delayed far beyond a fair expiry, in fact. A year overdue without a fee, but an unconscious nag that reminded him of what he hadn't. Or maybe it was the tension that built between him and Izaya that counted as his just reward of negligence.

Their remainder days of school ran them through a myriad of stilted interactions that set a tough row of hurdles to constantly jump in early adulthood. Hardly avoidant of the other, they forgot to tiptoe around the other’s triggers, rather intentionally set them off for a taste of that passion they once grasped. That, in concept, wasn’t any different from what it’d ever been, their exchange on the rooftop only an agitator for their stir-crazy emotions. Outside the bounds of concept — in the torn up glory of flesh and blood — their interactions differed from questionable friends and spoke of a long term relationship that neither were part of, just yet.   

And they were at the butt of Shinra’s tease, relentless as he was a sap; his casual prod and hinted wisdom would eventually lead to Izaya’s watchful eye upon him as well, the asshole duo both in pressure of Shizuo and he didn’t feel he earned it. That annoyance could’ve brought the end of his ridiculous avoidance, yet he continued to grimace through lies. If he did spill the beans, he wouldn’t by any means connect it to those bastards’ badgering.

Truth, however, was usually found at the tip of Shizuo's tongue just behind raucous curse words that he served Izaya in plenty, all the while honesty slipped further in the queue behind each mention of pests and scum; drowned in the dregs of his trashed compliments and recycled hate from when it actually meant something.

Which brought him to the present day dilemma, filled with nervous excitement. Twas the city’s hyped day of romance, one familiar to his history with Izaya, and what Shizuo marked as the deadline to make a move that he should've in Christmas past. It was a confrontation that he’d strategically planned for hours equal to the count of days he’d pussyfooted.

Yet further he waited out the day — just as twilight fell into the brink of night, right when the young informant left his final meeting. Obviously tuckered out, Shizuo noticed how Izaya still held a perk stature; in stride to an unknown destination, he casually perused the congregation of couples for interest whilst Shizuo did his best to remain incognito.  

Opportunities to approach his target at the perfect moment passed him by coincidence. One body-check of a slunk punk interrupted his poke of Izaya's open shoulder, which naturally wound up unfortunate for the careless prick. He was knocked from concentration for two blocks, as a duo of rugrats darted through and around his legs with literal bells on, to which his warning growl shot them off to their mom who scooted them to safety. Over the course of three more streets his racing heart dissuaded him while the two separately plunged deeper into the city.

Finally able to move forward, he efforted breath of fresh confidence to godspeed his heel which aligned his final step with Izaya’s halt. He gathered his surroundings in mirror of the other. Priorly blind, he was unknowingly lead to a festive plaza dimly lit by a twinkling spectrum of colour and full of romantic opportunity — Shizuo thanked karma with a smile just as bright as the strung LEDs. How advantageous it was, that impromptu Christmas Eve date that Izaya decided to take himself on.

He cleared his throat, but the conversation starter failed to stand out above the hushed city roar and random phrases snipped of their context. He rubbed nervous energy from his neck to try again, but choked on his greeting when he looked back up.

Nonchalantly posed at the base of the tree, Izaya was bathed in the spirit of Christmas, completely mystified by the beauty, but unaware of his own glitter. The joyful atmosphere seemed to reverberate within the young adult, which edged him closer to the seasonal smell of dying pine; his aura beamed in fashion of his natural charm, perhaps a hair more childish with his peppy hum in perfect tune of yuletide carols.

Unabashedly Izaya was a halved couple, but really he was a far-cry from lonely, especially as his performance garnered at least Shizuo’s undivided attention.

The scene was the season’s loving showal of support — it should have made his gift giving easier, but as he was cemented in stance, he could only lean forward on a hinge. His arm mid-reach and vocal chords prepared, he was beaten to the punch.

   “Were you seriously waiting for this exact day?”

Shizuo’s fingers twitched in the open air, his mouth agape even more than before — he shrunk embarrassed behind his scarf.    “If you were hoping for Christmas luck to bring us a prosperous relationship, Shizuo…” Izaya turned only the fraction needed to connect his gaze, “you could have spared the wait and answered when I asked you so generously.” Poised and delicate, his ring-adorned finger pulled the bulk of his own scarf to chin level, his lilted smile followed the curve of the fabric. At the height of his cheeks, a tease crinkled his eyes with some form of relief, the release of held breath that left behind a cloud. It was stunning the way that light payed Izaya such favour, it set him a glow yet cast shadows that melded with his dark locks and clothing. He was the true highlight of the night, what everyone and no one should have been observing.

   He gasped, “...wow…”

Shizuo couldn’t fathom what phenomenal deed he’d done to gain so much of a blessing from the universe. Suddenly he felt that the pricey gift loose in his fingertips was wrapped up in worthlessness.

   A sprinkle of snowflakes shook from Izaya’s hair while he chuckled, “that’s your answer?”

   “Yeah…” he was still caught in the awe, “I mean no,” he juggled the small box around his fingers until he noticed that his nervous tick caught Izaya’s wide-eyed attention — hooked on a panic.    “A-ah! It’s not what you think! It’s somethin’ dumb not anything like...that.”

   “I was going to say...it’s certainly not the confession I would’ve expected. In fact that would be a question, wouldn't it?” He swallowed nerves, “though you are unpredictable.”

Shizuo’s fluster befell him, his inspiration collapsed with the lid of his giftbox that was too weak for his grip. He felt the question of Izaya’s stare upon him as he shuffled from one uncomfortable pose to another. It was stupid, really, he’d experienced two years worth of work stress while only half a year out of highschool — he felt inexplicably older than he should, yet it contradicted how his current mentality felt stuck in the halls of Raijin.

Mutually known feelings didn’t matter much if his act didn’t pop into gear and the more Izaya’s humour began to bubble in his features, the more his body shook from a held back laugh, the angrier Shizuo’s temperament grew.

   “Will you stop it, Izaya!” his spat aligned with Izaya’s explosion of laughter; he followed with a scoff. “It’s not fuckin’ funny!”

The pest gathered a small audience until they got used to the scene and moved along just as Izaya died down.

   “Do you need me to do the honours, Shizu-chan?”

The remainder of Izaya’s chuckles hiccuped his shoulders while he took the few steps forward to cut further chase. They were close, but their distance didn’t close the air off from wrapping their bodies. Eager proposal splayed across Izaya's features as he rocked upward a few inches onto his toes like their height difference deemed it necessary. Shizuo read the setup clearly.

   “...’s alright…” blood rushed to his cheeks.

   Izaya hummed, “Is it?”

Nodding, he slid fingertips along the brunet’s presented jawline, trepidatious, but lacked the fear he once had when Izaya softened under the delicate motion. Like a tug of an invisible string that connected them, they were simultaneously pulled together. Chaste, but enough, the kiss mostly sealed some unspoken deal they’d written with fate. Honest to the duo, they were satisfied to just share the moment that dazzled with the holiday magic. Kinetically, they fulfilled their bond, breathed in the resurgence of their past; rested from their marathon of stubborn feelings. Not until Izaya tapped Shizuo out of his trance did they part — with a whole-hearted smile he delivered a sentiment he’d long reserved to be intimate.

    “Merry Christmas Eve, Shizuo.”

———

AN: My dweeby ass took the opportunity to mention Shizuo’s dream of wanting to be a detective; also...replaced my initial ‘Sherlock’ with ‘Akechi’ to honour Edogawa Ranpo. =w=;;;

[ikesenhell]

Cross Talk

Again., Chapter 3–a collaboration by myself and @a-shout-to-the-void​ AKA Vaya. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here, hers here, or become a Patron of mine! NOTES: VAYA IS A GODDESS AMONG WOMEN. Never in a million years could I have written this scene--please praise her for her lovely work in setting this up. 

Finally they had an indictment. At Ieyasu’s urging Mitsunari did his best to hand a second plea deal to the defense, but she shot it down again.

“Dear Mr. Ishida,” she finally laughed, her brown eyes glittering. Mitsunari wondered when last someone told her she was unspeakably beautiful. “Please tell Mr. Tokugawa to stop trying. I think we made ourselves pretty clear the first time.”

Next time they saw her was in the lobby of the court. She was wearing a comely black suit with a pencil skirt and a white blouse, her Senegalese twists laying in curling rivers against her nape. She flashed Mitsunari and Ieyasu a friendly smile.

“Are you ready?”

“As ever,” Ieyasu huffed. “Judge Neal is presiding, so--”

Her expression blanked. “Hell. I don’t suppose you have a spare tie?”

“A what?”

She was already mid-change. Up went the twists, tightened and coiled until it was in a professional and effortless bun. With practiced hands she sealed her shirt to the collar, even to the very last tiny button. “He’s got a track record for making commentary about women’s attire.”

Ieyasu paused, then slowly undid his own tie and offered it to her. “Here.”

“No no, I couldn’t possibly--”

“I’ll be fine,” he snipped. “Just--you asked for it. Take it.”

Her smile was almost bewilderingly beautiful. She took it in a graceful hand. “Thank you. Yellow is my favorite color, too.”

The jury selection was contentious.

For every potential juror Ieyasu rejected, she refused a dozen more. Ieyasu crumpled a bit of paper in rage, grinding his teeth.

“Is she trying to piss us off?” He hissed. “She’s just trying to prolong this now.”

“In fairness, Mr. Tokugawa,” Mitsunari started, his eyes never leaving her back, “I understand what she’s doing. The last few jurors indicated that they had very slight biases against women--”

“Where did you get that?”

“--it was slight phrasing, but notable.” He watched Ms. Williams parse over a piece of paper again, her brows furrowed and full lips set. “And she’s doing a commendable job detailing the questioning and picking through the particulars--”

Ieyasu shot him an icy stare. “So you’re saying you’re following it, too? You’d do the same?”

“Yes. I would.”

The shorter man scowled. “This is why I don’t like Yale.”

Mitsunari had seen many opening statements in his career. He’d sat in the gallery and watched Nobunaga deliver cutting, willful words that Mitsunari himself would never consider. He had, of course, seen Hideyoshi speak in his humble, familial way, leaving the jurors swooning in their chairs at his homegrown manners and charming smile.

Ieyasu blew them both out of the water every time.

“Awful. Abhorrent. Reprehensible. Unconscionable. These are a few words you might use to describe the heinous act that has brought us all together today. It was a vicious crime. An assault on the fundamental, inalienable right to life we are granted. Murder. Call it what you will: a crime of passion, a crime of cunning, a crime that only the worst among us could commit. But this murder must be called what it is. A crime committed by one Mrs. Jacqueline Ailes.”

Mitsunari tried to squash the rush of chills dancing up and down his arms. How could he? Ieyasu was unquestionably the most commanding speaker he’d ever seen. Kenshin Uesugi was chilling and ethereal. The few times he’d seen Shingen Takeda testify for his own private investigation firm was arresting. Mitsuhide Akechi could talk his way through a brick wall. But oh--nothing really compared to watching Ieyasu. His green eyes flashed like fire.

“When faced with the facts, when faced with the law, we have no choice but to find Ms. Ailes guilty of murder, that most heinous of crimes. I’m sure you’ll agree.”

Something about his words made him grow ten feet. Ieyasu was short--only barely shorter than him--but his words sat him among giants. Mitsunari wondered if that was the voice he heard when he died; self-assured, strong, utterly at home among the most powerful and defenseless in one.

Ieyasu had set the earth spinning. His turn was over. She spoke and the world stopped all over again.

“There are two victims of this crime. One is the man buried too early and too young. The other is this woman who has been wrongfully accused of her husband’s murder.” With long, purposeful strides, she took her position before the court. “No amount of rhetoric or staging will change this. Mrs. Ailes is an innocent woman who wandered onto the scene of a horrific crime when she hoped to have a quiet walk--and now she is taking the fall for it.”

Oh. Once again Mitsunari felt the bewildering thrill of shivers. No one aside from Ieyasu had done that to him before. She was so clear, so crisp, so clean and decisive and removed. He watched her analyze every word before it came from her lips. Where Ieyasu had set the court ablaze, she soothed them again effortlessly.

This was going to be difficult.

---

“Now, you’ve said that the family regularly goes for these walks, is that correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The neighbor who’d phoned the police was an older woman of around fifty years old, with fading blonde hair and crow’s feet. She looked like the kind of lady who played tennis at the country club on the weekends--and she was the only witness. Ms. Williams rested casually before her, every calming word setting them at ease.

“An evening routine, perhaps?”

“Yes. I see them almost every night.”

“And when you see them out for their walk, is the whole family present?”

“Yes.”

“Now that includes their daughter, isn’t that right?”

The neighbor paused. “Renée, yeah. Renée Ailes. I’ve never seen them without her.”

“Never?”

“W-well I, on the walks, I mean.”

“Of course, of course. And was Jacqueline aware that you saw them on their walks?”

“I think so. We would wave to each other, or… or sometimes I would step out to chat with her, but mostly I just waved.”

“So was Renée out with them the night of the murder?”

“They weren’t out at their usual time—”

“Ma’am,” the attorney politely corrected, “I’m sorry. Was Renée with them?”

“...No, not that I saw.”

“In fact, according to the statement you gave to the police at the scene, and according to your phone call—”

Ieyasu, who simmered quietly through the interrogation, stood with fire in his eyes. “Objection. Your honor, what relevance does this have?”

“Your honor, Counsellor Tokugawa addressed elements of the police report in his own line of questioning,” she answered, crisp and polite as ever. “I believe that makes it not only fair, but entirely appropriate that I consider the report as well.”

The judge cast his eyes skyward. “Overruled, Tokugawa.”

Ieyasu slumped back into his seat. She continued. “According to the police and the phone call, you reported that you only saw the defendant over her husband’s dead body. Is that correct?”

The neighbor nodded. “Yes.”

“But no screaming?”

“No.”

“No stabbing?”

“No.”

“Hm.” The attorney made a small show of thinking before following up with a simple, “So no murder? Just a distraught woman in shock over a dead body?”

“Yes.”

A few jurors stirred. Ms. Williams schooled a tiny smile and pressed on. “Didn't you also report a car in the cul-de-sac a few hours prior to the murder? You said it was a black Ford Focus with a peeling bumper sticker. It was unfamiliar to you, wasn’t it?”

“That’s correct. I don’t think there was a follow up on it.”

“Have you seen that car since then?”

“No.”

Mitsunari almost wanted to smile. If it were cross-examination from Ieyasu they would have counted it a fantastic victory. Even then he wanted to applaud her. How had they never run across this woman before?

And beside that--he’d already had doubts.

When finally the court adjourned, Ieyasu was fuming.

“Let me guess: you also think there’s merit to her smokescreen.”

Mitsunari shoved the papers back into the briefcase and shot out the door after his partner. “She brings up valid points that I know I addressed with you: the lack of a witness, the strange car--”

“She was over her husband’s body!” Ieyasu snapped. “She got off the phone just beforehand for no reason! Just because no one saw--”

“There were also no screams. I think there’s validity to the skepticism.”

Apparently Ieyasu had nothing to say to that. His sour expression just puckered more as they charged toward the subway.

[phantom-thieves-imagines]

Jealousy- Chapter2 (Goro Akechi x reader)

Wooh here’s the part 2 thats overdue, watch me decide to make this 20 chapters long lmafo

ooh ooh warning- the events in chapter 2 and onwards are cannon to the actual game meaning Akechi is...

chapter 1 can be thought of as part of this, or as a separate fic where Akechi hasn’t done...things...

spoilers ahead

-mod goro 

Makoto took a deep breath, pulling herself fully upright as she brought the microphone to her mouth, “Well then, we will now begin today’s panel. Our guest of honor is Goro Akechi.”

A bright spotlight reigned down on the detective in center stage, who gestured  with his gloved hand, smiling. “I feel kind of bad considering how many people have gathered....I’m sure you all would’ve been happier to have a singer or mascot appear, wouldn’t you say?”

 The crowd laughed, as Makoto continued, with more confidence. “We’d appreciate it if you could tell us about your experiences with the notorious Phantom Thieves.” She copied Akechi, turning up charm to the max and lathering on her words like honey, “It’d be wonderful if you could let us hear more about your actual investigative process.”

Akechi leaned on the podium in front of him, not one to lose he put on his own sweet-tooth smile. “I’m not used to being the one interrogated...so please go easy on me.”

Once again, the crowd laughed, Akechi had a way with people you knew that for sure.

“...How much do you think he knows.” Ann whispered to your group, up in the rafters. Below sitting in the crowd you could see the floofy hair of Haru and the blazing head of orange hair that was Futaba, sitting in her same frog-crouched position. The two had managed to grab two seats in the packed auditorium- Goro Akechi had literally sold out the gym. Ann had managed to snag a key to the rafters from a male who worked for the drama club, the 5 of you creeping quietly as to not attract any attention- it was highly likely the rafters were off-limits, that didn’t stop you all from positioning yourself with a good view of the stage. she nearly throttled Ryuji when he tripped on the stairs, causing the smack of metal against skin to vibrate throughout the hall. Luckily, with how loud the gym was at the time and how focused everyone was looking on stage, waiting for Akechi to show, you all managed to sneak up without being spotted. 

“Either he has an idea who the true culprit is, or...he has uncovered the identities of the Phantom Thieves.” Yusuke mumbled, 

Ryuji leaned on the railing, beside Ann. Apparently they didn’t care about being seen anymore. “C’mon Makoto....! You gotta get it outta him....!”

Yes, Makoto was under a lot of pressure. She was tasked with prying information about the phantom thieves out of Akechi, despite that fact that you were a friend of Akechi, you wouldn’t want to go head to head with him in a situation like this- this was his stage. 

“As much as you’re allowed to say, would you tell us how far along your investigation is on them?” Makoto continued.

“Getting right to the point, I see.” Akechi commented. 

You made a slight ‘tsk’ sound. Akechi was cocky, and pointed out every single thing Makoto did and why, just in a different, roundabout way.

You had a bad feeling, thing’s weren’t going to end well.

“Well, if it’s as much as I’m allowed to say, then everything on TV and the internet is all of it. We don’t have any leads yet, and the methods behind their crimes are still unclear.”

“I see...Even with this country’s power, arresting them is proving to be difficult....is that the case?” Makoto asked.

Akechi turned it over in his mind. “I wouldn’t phrase it that way...but well, something like that.”

“Something like that my ass.” you growled. The police had nothing, you knew that for a fact. If, and only if, they had something- it would have to be from Akechi. 

For that one, one reason, because of his one comment.

“Thank you for answering that question.” Makoto hummed, voice sweet like a child’s. Alright, at the very least you all know that the police can’t arrest the thieves at the moment, without fabricating piles of evidence and having fake witnesses. “...By the way, it seems you’ve denied a correlation between the Phantom Thieves and the murders...Why the sudden change? Until now, haven’t you upheld your stance that the Phantom thieves are dangerous? How are you so positive that they haven’t committed murder?”

Akechi breaks into his TV- oriented smile. “Aren’t you a little too comfortable interrogating people? Why, it’s as if you’re a prosecutor.” An attempt to derail the conversation and also stabbing at the fact that she’s acting like her obviously corrupted-sister. A disguised low blow.

The crowd laughed, god they must be tired of it by now. 

Makoto flushed slightly, embarrassed and a twinge of bitterness making her brow crease in the slightest as she closed her eyes. “Ah, excuse me. This is something I’ve personally been interested in so I couldn’t help it...” She opened her eyes, focusing on Goro. “But won’t you tell us...?”

‘Atta girl Makoto, keep up the heat.

“What reason is there that you’d claim their innocence when you previously stated they were unjust?”

Akechi turned to the audience for the first time since the interview started. “Every person whose heart they changed have truly been criminals, including Okumura. Why then, was he the only one who needed to be killed?”

“Why is that?” Makoto smiled, throwing the question back at him. That was the best way to do it, never put in your statement, just keep asking the same things out of the person to avoid them trying to interrogate you.

It was like watching two lions fight. Makoto and Goro both looking for the other to slip up and to gain the upper-hand.

Akechi looked forlorn, “I must admit...I couldn’t deduce a reason. That’s why I believe that case should be through of as if a different party is responsible.”

He leaned back off of the podium, the same natural look plastered on his face, “And if- This is all hypothetical, mind you, If the Phantom Thieves are the ones I know of, I can’t possible imagine they would kill anyone.”

A cry of shock rang throughout the auditorium, you felt a stone drop in your stomach. Down below you saw Futaba’s hair whip towards Akechi. Beside you, Yusuke tightened the grip on his arm, gnawing on his lip.

Makoto, startled, stuttered back into character. “Y-your comment just now...Does this mean the police have already identified who they are?”

“Dammit, fuck!” you felt like punching the wall. If this conversation continued...

Akechi frowned, but you knew he was really smiling, he realized it too, Makoto had fallen into his trap. “Oh, no. The police haven’t gotten that far yet.”

He paused, to let the audience laugh, before turning to look directly at those standing in the rafters.

“But I have my own conclusions about the true identities of the Phantom Thieves.”

Your blood ran cold. 

“He’s gotta be bluffin’!” Ryuji barked, slamming his hands on the railing.

Ann smacked his arm, “Pipe down!”

Haru and Futaba were huddled together, mumbling. Makoto had a dear-in-headlights look, her brain frantically trying to say something that could steer the conversation off course.

Akechi smiled, barely hiding pride. The lion was defeating the lioness. “You’re not going to ask me who they are...?” He asked oh-so-innocently. At this point he was just daring her to try him. ‘Do it, weren’t you so confident in getting information out of me? Where did that honey-like smile go?’

“He’s just playing her like a fiddle.” you mumbled to yourself. It was hard to believe this was the same guy who less than 24 hours ago, was talking in the courtyard with you about being friends, how he wanted to be friends, how he wasn’t used to being friends with people.

You wonder how much of it was fake, could be fake.

Ann gripped the railing so hard it made a noise.

“...it may have repercussions on the investigation. Are you sure you can share that with us?” Makoto was not even trying to hide her glare. She was frustrated. 

Akechi raised his chin, “It’s only my personal opinion, so announcing that here wouldn’t pose a problem.”

“However....” He continued. 

While looking at Makoto, his eyes momentarily drifted back again towards the rafters, he locked eyes with you for a moment and you help your breath until he looked away. 

“...There is a possibility that everyone present will hear the truth before the police or media...

“The truth...?” Ann whispered, fear lacing her words.

Makoto huffed,“That’s quite the confidence you have....if you’re so certain...then very well....”

She took a breath, steeling herself. Once she asks this, there was the high probability Goro would call her out right then and there, in front of the crowd. If that happened she needed to be ready, to act, to deal with the situation in any means necessary. 

Her last words, before, now that you look back on it, was the last moment before you would pretend that everything was okay, that you could continue attempting cracking the ice-tough detective without any fears of something sinister hiding underneath Goro Akechi’s mask.

She opened her mouth. 

“I’d like to ask you then: Who do you think the Phantom Thieves are, Akechi-san?”

Akechi-san, the lioness is wounded is trying her best to soften the blow she know will kill her.

“That, idiot!” Ryuji hissed.

“No, Ryuji,” You murmured, tugging his arm. “She had no choice, you have to know that.”

He met your eyes, you and Ryuji had been through a lot- being your first friend since you got to Shujin, besides Ann, and eventually Akira. He respected you, unlike Ann who he always bickered with, he always tried his best to please you. Taking you out to eat, friendly talks between classes- nothing there was ever implied to be more than friends, and you both were okay with that.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his palm, he’s just scared, and you know that, understand that.

“No...there’s no way he could have any evidence.” Yusuke mumbled in terror.

You’re not so sure you believe that now.

“They’re people you all know quite well.” Akechi started. “The identity of the Phantom Thieves are-”

Almost comically and to the relief of your group, Akechi’s phone rang.

He pulled it out, “Oh, it’s mine. I apologize for the interruption, but I can’t turn off my phone due to my job....would you mind if I step away for about...ten minutes or so...?”

“I’m terribly sorry, everyone, but we’ll be taking a break.” Makoto said, trying to keep the relief out of her voice. “We’ll resume the panel in ten minutes.”

Akechi pocketed his phone, grinning. “Please don’t troll me online for this interuption, ok?” 

For some reason, you felt the strong urge to go online and do just that.

Akechi bowed, and then walked over to Makoto. The two of them exchanged a few words. Akechi moved behind the girl, whispering something in her ear.

For some reason, you felt the hairs on your arm stand up, your teeth clench tighter.

Makoto gave Akechi a side-eye glare, biting her lip before the two disappeared behind the curtain.

“H-hey, it’s Makoto.” Ann mumbled, motioning to the IM app on her phone. You checked on your own as well,

Makoto, 2:47pm: P.E faculty office. Now. Everyone.

“Dammit!” Ryuji mumbled, rubbing his head. “It’s that damn Akechi!”

“What should we do...?” Ann murmured in a trance-like state. 

Akira, who hadn’t said anything since the panel started, finally spoke up. “I think, we should be on guard.”

Yusuke shivered, the lanky boy had probably burned all of his calories out of fear by now. 

Below you, Haru and Futaba were squeezing past people in the rows to get out of the gym. 

“We only have 10 minutes, we should hurry.” Akira said. Yusuke, Ann and Ryuji all hurried down the stairs, legs shaking. You stayed behind to wait for Akira, who was still standing, looking at the stage, the gleam from his glasses hid most of his face.

“Kurusu...?” You called out. He snapped his head towards you. “We should go.”

“Right.” He nodded, following you down the stairs, pushing the double doors and out into the blinding light of the sun.

---

Akechi slapped down three photos on the table. From the cries of Haru and Ryuji, you knew the plan of ‘trying not to look suspicious while Akechi interrogates us’ flew out the window with any other logical thoughts.

“Please, let’s not feign ignorance.” Akechi purred. Goddammit did his voice find a way into your blood, you shivered again. “All of you can go to that other world too, yes?”

Akira stepped up, as the leader, picking up his broken team in his own hands. “What do you mean, ‘us too’?”

Akechi smiled, “It’s not just all of you. I am aware of that world too...” 

Hidden behind a stack of boxes, you could see the tuffs of Morgana’s fur. He was sleeping on the grass while the panel was going on (Ryuji almost stepped on his tail while rushing out of the gym) and you all informed him of what had happened on the way to the office. 

“What? He was about to reveal the identities of the phantom thieves?” Morgana’s tiny voice cried, running to keep up with everyone power-walking.

“Yeah, now we’re in deep shit.” Ryuji cursed, trying to calm his nerves. 

“Well, what’s done is done, all we can do is try to either play dumb or work out a deal.” Akira mumbled.

Morgana’s tail twitched, left to right and back again.

“I found out about that world a month ago.” Aekchi stated, pulling his phone to show the currant-red eye of the Navigation app. “This had been installed onto my phone without my knowledge.”

You winced, Akira hummed, Morgana’s tail flicked up, once.

You sincerely, sincerely, sincerely hoped you were wrong, but even so, you can’t hide the fact that the evidence is looking right at you in the face. 

No one else, except for 3 out of the group seem to have realized it.

Ryuji rolled his arm, grabbing his shoulder, as if he was going to fight. “We’ve been listenin’ to you blab on for a while now, but cut the delusional-”

Akechi shut him down promptly, “All of you are acting as Phantom Thieves in the Metaverse. I can say so with conviction because I have the same power as you.”

Everyone was quiet and tense for a moment, no one no knowing or wanting to say anything.

“That’s right.” Akira spoke up, his hands taken out of his pockets. “And what now?”

“So, you don’t deny it then.” Akechi hummed. “To be honest, I’ve been curious about you since the time of the Madarame case.”

“We didn’t kill anyone!” Haru gave a shrill cry. Of course she’d feel the need to say that, it was her own father that was killed after all.

“I believe that, as well.” Akechi confirmed. He seemed like he was telling the truth, at least. 

Makoto cradled her hands nervously, “How can you be so sure?” 

And Akechi was willing to answer that as well.“Because I saw another- the real culprit.”

Instantly, everyone in the group recoiled. Shock and fear turned into anger, this was the person that was framing the Phantom Thieves, intentionally or not, for murder. 

Akechi hushed any outcries. “I couldn’t identify his face...he had a mask on, after all.”

“He?” You questioned, speaking Akechi for the first time since the day before. “So you know this person is a male.

Akechi winced, it was so small that it only looked as if his eye was twitching but it was there nonetheless, then collecting himself, answered. “Yes, from his figure I could assume it was male.”

He cradled his head, face scrunched as the retold his story. “Actually, when I took these photos, I entered that world too. That’s when I saw someone else moving about, besides all of you....He shot at me the moment he noticed me.”

Yusuke folded his arms, shifting his position. “That’s who killed president Okumura?”

Akechi removed his hand, nodding. “Most likely. At the very least, I was almost killed by him...’I can’t die here, I need to determine the truth.’ When those thoughts overcame me, I awakened to that power- a most fortunate accident.”

And all this happened, a month ago.

“This guy has a persona too...?” you heard Morgana mumble from his position behind the boxes.

Akechi jolted, his eyebrows raised up past the edges of his fringe. “This cat...” 

Morgana’s tail shot up in astonishment.

Goro shook his head. “I-i swear it just.....talked....!”

Ann spoke up, words flowing out of her in a rushed breath. “Morgana. Our teammate who taught us about the Metaverse.”

Akechi recoiled, before slowly returning, even closer to inspect Morgana. It slowly became more and more difficult to stop yourself from laughing- Goro always acted polished, calm and collected at all times. But when something threw him off guard he’d always try really really hard to keep his cool, though he wasn’t very good at it, to your humor. 

“Really...? This is unbelievable...” He murmured. “But it is true that you know things that I don’t...”

He cleared his throat, collecting himself to be the TV celebrity he was. “Say, Morgana. Were you also the one who instructed them on how to change people’s hearts?”

Morgana saw no need to stay in hiding he jumped up on the boxes. “We go in the Metaverse- we call them palaces- to steal the core of their desires: their treasure, those who’s treasure are stolen have a change of heart.

Word jumble that you’ve heard what is it...one two-  this is this 6th time now. You extended your arm out to Morgana, his ears flicked forward as he carefully climbed up your arm and came to a rest on your shoulder.

You scratched under Morgana’s chin, causing him to purr. You (Besides Haru, Futaba and maybe Ann if she tried) could pet Morgana like this, like he was an actual cat. Akechi’s eyes met yours for the third time that day, he looked away quickly.

 “...Ah, hahaha...” He chuckled, rubbing his face dejectedly . “There’s certainly no way anyone could figure out such an MO...”

“Anyways!”Ryuji couldn’t take how slow the conversation was moving at, his foot tapping against the tile with vigor.“Back to what you were talkin’ about! Are we in this mess ‘cause of that guy?!”

Akechi turned to Joker, your leader, speaking to the group.

You only half-focused on that , you kept running the calculations in your head, making sure what you were assuming was right. Morgana noticed, hissing(literally). 

“Hey, are you listening, what he said was important.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled back, ruffling his fur. He yelped, along with Ryuji and Ann both freaking out over blackmail and the threat with being arrested. 

Akira sighed, removing his glasses to rub the grime from the lenses. “You’re asking a lot.”

Akechi frowned in return. “I see...I don’t think it’s a bad deal though....well.” he smiled, one that seemed to spring naturally from his mouth. “Considering this is you we're talking about. I believe you’ll come to a favorable reply.

The smile was short lived, it was quickly replaced with 100% pure synthetic Akechi smile in a short second. “I’m glad we could talk. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to spend such a meaningful time like this.”

His words were meant to be ones of praise, but to you they just felt like slaps to the face. As if he was implying his time with you had been-

Meaningless.

‘This line of thought meaningless’ you thought.

“We should be getting back.” Akechi pointed out, observing his phone. He spoke to Makoto, brows furrowing in regret. “About that...I’m sorry, would it be acceptable if we ended the panel here...?”

Then he broke into a smile fitting for a cat like Morgana. “The reason why you called for me in the first place was because you wanted Intel,correct?”  He seemed passive-aggressive towards Makoto and from the look he gave him back, you assumed this would be another ongoing thing, like Ryuji and Morgana, great. 

Another tally for Akechi, he’s winning against the Phantom Thieves 1000-1.

“Ill deal with it somehow.” She finally said, seeming relieved to just be done with the situation. She held her hands, when you looked down you noticed- they were shaking.

Makoto Nijima was just as scared as everyone else.

Akechi walked past the group,not bothering to formally conclude things, or maybe he just didn’t know how to. 

He stopped to whisper in your ear on the way out, “I look forward to your answer.”

Morgana’s fur bristled, you locked eyes with Akechi, hoping to get some reason or clue from his eyes, anything that might change your mind-

Nothing, absolutely wiped and blank. 

He left the room.

Ryuji stomped his foot in rage. “Dammit! He had complete control over us!” the fear that seeped into his voice was evident. You tried to reach out for him, to help him but he stormed out of the room, slamming the door before you could get the chance. You made a mental note to go run with him to help burn off his adrenaline later.

No one had the strength to say anything else, with heavy hearts, everyone slowly filed out of the office. 

You, Akira and Morgana remained in the room.

“Hey, they’re going...” Morgana hoped down from your shoulder, voice somber. The cat sighed, shaking his head.

Akira looked at you, you both knew what each-other was thinking. It was pity. Pity because your so called friend, the one you tried to be friends with, the one Akira knew you had feelings for was-

Morgana’s tail swished, sadly. 

“You realized it too, then.”