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Chapter Text

It's not rare for Akechi to wonder about the Phantom Thieves' hierarchy.

It doesn't make sense to him, whenever he takes the time to stop and think about it. He can see how Nijimas's personality lends itself to taking charge. If his deductions are correct, though, which they are, Nijima didn't come into the picture until the Phantom Thieves' third target. If they'd established a leader by then like they should have, there would've been no way for Nijima to come between that.

Joker is the obvious choice for leader, and he's been in the Phantom Thieves since the group's founding. Nijima should not have been able to take charge.

It's not the case that Nijima is a bad leader. Akechi doesn't have much experience with group work, but he has no significant complaints where she is concerned. Only the impression that Joker would do a better job. He is not biased.

Akechi watches Joker's easy posture as he follows Queen's lead, the simple acceptance of his place, and it doesn't make sense.

Joker gambles with the confidence of a thief, shouts at enemies to distract them, takes the lead to guide them all through a pitch-black maze. He competes with Shadow over who can snatch the most valuable item, such a familiar routine for them that they must've done this in every palace up to now. He gains several flummoxed looks by laughing out loud when Akechi suggests he's being overly aggressive in fights.

Akechi bets on Joker's solo victory, and he wins amounts that would have sent his younger self into a days-long anxiety attack.

In one of the safe rooms, Joker gathers them all around the central table. He sweeps off any chips left over from the theoretical previous inhabitants, and takes a deck of cards from one of his many pockets.

"Does anyone here know how to play Tycoon?" he asks, shuffling the deck without looking. He makes weaving the cards seem easy. Akechi has never seen him do that in reality, so he assumes Joker is taking advantage of cognition here.

"I think I do," Panther says. "It's the same thing as Millionaire, right?"

"Different name," Joker confirms. For the benefit of the rest of the group, he explains the simple rules.

Noir giggles and takes a seat. "Sounds fun!"

"Is this really necessary right now?" Akechi asks, keeping his voice light and even.

As if specifically to spite him, Queen takes a seat at the table as well. She says, "It's a good way to take a break from fighting."

"We can have two games going on at the same time," Joker says, eyeing their group size, "but for this first game it may be good if everyone watches and learns."

He cuts the deck and starts dealing for his players. Fox frames the group with his fingers. Akechi crosses his arms and watches.

Joker goes under the radar for most of the game, and Akechi is the only one not surprised when in the last round, he bankrupts Queen and takes the whole game.

Panther groans. "I got my butt kicked."

"I was so close," Queen despairs. "Is bankrupting even in the rules, or did you make that up just now?"

Joker smirks at her and doesn't answer, the most infuriatingly smug air about him.

They end up moving on after only that game, but Tycoon becomes a staple of resting in safe rooms.

When he's doing this much anyway, Joker should logically be elected as leader. He's the obvious choice, isn't he?

Akechi's first hint to 'absolutely not' comes long after he's already betrayed Joker, and Joker has betrayed him in turn.

Chapter Text

It's while infiltrating Sae's palace that Makoto first sees it.

There's something wrong with Joker, in a way she hadn't noticed before. Which is to say, he's doing better. He's doing better. Which implies there was a 'worse.'

It's not just limited to their infiltrations, where Joker bickers with Crow, giving up more words in a single conversation than she hears him say on any other given day. Even in the real world, he smiles back at her, and comments when he doesn't need to, and jokes around when he sees an opportunity for melodrama.

All of it falls into place so easily that Makoto can't believe she had taken a lack of that behavior as normal.

It's been seven months since the start of the school year, and Akira is coming out of his shell. It took too long. It took way too long.

Makoto isn't the only one worrying about it. Even Ryuji brings it up to her, in one of their private studying sessions. Even Ryuji, who she's still not sure has much respect for her as a leader.

"Hey," he says out of nowhere, after a long time of staring at the same problem without moving to write down anything at all. "D'you think Akira is holding up alright?"

Makoto adjusts to the topic quickly--she always has the health of her teammates in the back of her head. She still hesitates over her answer.

"Maybe," she says. "I mean, he's doing okay now, right? That's good?"

"Is he?" Ryuji argues. "Okay? How can you tell? He didn't say shit."

Almost instantly, he averts his eyes and lowers his voice. "Sorry. I'm just- I'm worried about the guy."

Makoto thinks.

"We don't need to overwhelm him when he's been holding his own this whole time," Makoto says. Then, "I'll get Shiho to talk to him."

Ryuji's mouth closes on his initial rebuttal. "Yeah. That's a good idea."

As far as Makoto can tell, Shiho was Akira's first friend in Tokyo, and she knows him the best too. Makoto feels she can trust Shiho with this.

"Focus on your math," Makoto reminds Ryuji. "You want your mom to be happy with you, remember?"

"Yeah," Ryuji sighs, and picks up his pencil.

Makoto is weirdly proud of him, and she means it when she tells him he can do it. He's putting in the effort, and all he needs to do is beat his own personal best on the exams. He told her his mom has low standards for his grades by now, so any improvement will make her happy.

Makoto is relatively new to making people happy, but now that she has a taste, she can't get enough of it.

Chapter Text

"That asshole! I can't believe his attitude! Hey, man, are you okay?"

Joker frowns at the closed doors of the elevator.

"... Akira?"

He knows that voice. He didn't get a good look at the man's face, but he knows that voice. He does. Where from?

A hand waves in front of Joker's face. He flinches back, and the thought slips from his mind.

"Dude." Ryuji frowns at him, concern pulling at his lips. "Really, are you okay? You don't look so good."

"Just lightheaded," Joker tells him.

"Well, he doesn't normally eat much, after all," Morgana says.

Ryuji seems to have totally forgotten about the asshole they met just now. "Are you serious?"

Joker dismisses them. His gaze strays to the elevator again. He's missing something important.

"Hey, Akira, is that true?" Ryuji says. "You're not eating enough?"

"I didn't say that," Morgana says soothingly. "I'm sure Akira knows what's enough for him. It's not like he can't afford more food if he needs it. He gets me sushi every other week!"

Joker shrugs. They seem to want an answer from him. "I live off coffee, mostly."

Ryuji seems somehow offended by this.

"You gotta take care of yourself!" He starts tapping urgently at his phone. "You run with me all the time, and you're not allowed to exercise on an empty stomach," he lectures. Joker feels like Ryuji is repeating words that someone else told him.

"All right," Joker says easily. "I'll make sure to eat more." If he remembers to.

Ryuji looks up, and his face is set into a determined expression. "Yeah, you will."

Joker doesn't remember where he recognized the voice from until he's lying awake in bed, thinking about it.

The Phantom Thieves' targets feel so small in the face of a false god, but Joker remembers them. Their last public target had been one Masayoshi Shido, the prime minister to-be. He'd watched the confession live.

That voice... That was definitely Masayoshi Shido.

He opens the MetaNav and uses vocal input.

"Candidate found."

He already has a palace. This line-up of palaces is not something that grew as the Phantom Thieves did, then--it's just that the Phantom Thieves kept finding bigger targets.

He hasn't looked up any other past targets. This one he can excuse as meeting him at the buffet and recognizing him as a bastard, but entering Futaba or Madarame or other names he could dig from his memory would give him away. There's no way to gain more information on them without looking suspicious.

Maybe he should go check out Shido's palace sometime.

The next day, on Friday, Ryuji pulls him aside for lunch. Joker doesn't find this strange until Ryuji shoves a bento box into his arms.

"Courtesy of my mom," he says proudly. "She's adopted you."

"I've never met her," Joker points out.

"That don't matter!" Ryuji grins. "Just take it. Unless you brought your own lunch?"

Dammit, Ryujj has him there.

"This is very nice," he says, "but she doesn't have to do anything. I do just fine."

"Uh, say that again when you're eating more than one meal a day," Ryuji says. He breaks open his own bento.

Joker throws a look at a gleeful Morgana. Have they been talking behind his back?

It's just... weird. He's doing fine, taking care of himself. He's even sleeping every night, nowadays, Mona makes sure of that. This isn't necessary.

"Just accept it," Morgana tells him. "Ryuji's mom did her best on them, after all."

Joker shuts up and eats his bento.

Chapter Text

The words stick in his throat. Akira chokes on them.

They're his friends. He can't deny that anymore, when they're all hanging around his room and sharing stories. They're not just his teammates, they're his friends. He should tell them. They could help.

They could and they would help.

There's an empty pot between them, a warmth in the air.

"C'mon, Joker," Morgana says. "Everyone else explained their past, so it's only fair you do too."

Ryuji comes to his defense. "Hey, easy for you to say. You didn't share anything either, did you?"

Morgana gives his best attempt at a scowl with feline facial features. "I shared everything I could!"

They deserve to know. But.

Akira's skin crawls. He's been aware for a long time that he's being watched. To what extent, he doesn't know--the Prison Master just seems to be aware of whatever happens in his daily life. The only reason he knows he's not being mind-read is that he's still alive.

He wants to stay alive.

He swallows down the truth, and digs through his memory for the night that seems so distant and unimportant now.

"One evening, I heard sounds of a conflict, and I went to see what was going on," he says.

It's the second time he's told this story since he'd come to Tokyo. Before Ryuji, no one had wanted to hear it.

"There was a man trying to get a struggling woman into a car. She sounded scared," he says. It's toneless.

Ryuji pulls a disgusted face, even though he's heard this story before. Morgana hisses in sympathy. Shiho stares at the table.

"I couldn't ignore something like that--could you?" It's a hypothetical, because Akira knows his friends. "I came up to tell the man to get his slimy hands off her. I guess I startled him, showing up behind him, because he stumbled and fell. He must've hit his head on the concrete, because when he stood back up he was bleeding."

Akira shivers involuntarily, more details coming back to him as he's telling the story again. He thought he was long over it.

"That's when police sirens started ringing close by. The man threatened the woman he was assaulting into giving a statement to the cops, so when they showed up, I got arrested and charged with assault."

Akira shrugs, avoiding his friends' eyes. "It was a sham trial, with witness testimony. I was expelled, shipped off to Tokyo for probation, and you all know the rest."

Ryuji curses loudly, needing to vent his anger in some way. Yusuke just looks thoughtful. Shiho stands up, marching over to his side of the table to grab Akira in a hug. She telegraphs her movements, and Akira is able to accept it easily.

"I'm sorry," she tells him quietly. Akira just nods. What can he say to that?

"That sounds exactly like the kind of person whose heart we should change!" Morgana says, when Shiho lets go. "Who is he?"

"No idea," Akira says. "I don't remember anyone mentioning his name. Maybe they thought I would finish the job if they did."

Morgana droops. "So... we can't do anything?"

Akira pats him on the head lightly. He's still not sure how much petting is okay with Mona, but this is the best equivalent to a shoulder pat that he has.

"I see," Yusuke says. He sounds grave. "Even with access to another world... Our reach is limited."

Akira knows his friends, excepting maybe Morgana, are still riding the power high of fighting with their Persona. He's loath to take that from them. But... "Yeah. There's going to be enemies we might not be able to fight."

He bites his tongue, ducks his head. That might have been too much. He can feel the weight of a gaze on his neck.

The fear creeps back up his throat, stealing his words. His chest pulses with phantom pain, a background ache on the best of days. He can't let on that he knows. Not where the Prison Master can hear.

Akira doesn't know of any place the Prison Master definitely can't observe him. So... He won't be able to talk about it. Ever. He won't be able to talk about it until he's ready to confront the Prison Master.

It's been two months, two changes of heart, and he's nowhere near ready. Akira feels like he's made no progress at all. Sure, he's grown, but the prospects he's facing feel just as impossible to overcome as they did at the start.

There is something that calls itself a god planning their demise. Akira needs to do better, needs to do more, if he wants to have even a chance at besting that.

Chapter Text

Joker is completely unsurprised when they learn the depths of Mementos take the form of a giant prison.

Akechi might have only run two out of seven palaces with the Phantom Thieves, but that's enough for him to form an idea of a broader pattern. The way Joker is acting now doesn't fit into that pattern.

This is arguably the biggest thing their group has ever done, and the rest of the Thieves are taking it seriously in a way they usually don't seem to. Joker, however, who Akechi would've called overprotective of his team in both of the previous palaces, is far too calm. He's not the voice of caution he has been in past infiltrations.

He acts like he knows this place, like Mona does. Unlike Mona, he's not off his game because of it.

Joker ends up taking the initiative to continue through the prison, without even realizing that he's leading the group. A single-minded force.

If Akechi didn't know better, he'd say that Joker has been here before. Does he know better, though?

A thought comes to him as he watches Joker summon another brand new Persona.

The twin sisters that had broken into his apartment barely a month ago had said some strange things. They'd called Joker 'inmate,' and they'd referenced a 'cell'. Akechi put it out of his mind after he'd failed to find a connection.

Is this the connection? Has Joker been here before, and escaped?

There are safe rooms, even in the depths. The first one they find, Akechi gestures to Joker for them to talk away from the group.

He didn't find those twins, no matter how hard he looked or how many records he trawled through. That means the only one who can answer his questions is Joker himself.

He's been obstinate about it in the past, but here, in this place?

"You seem awfully at home here," Akechi tells him, tone mild.

Joker's lips quirk into a smile that conveys no humor whatsoever. "You think so?"

"Should I be on the lookout for wanted posters?" Akechi says. "The guards seem awfully desperate to keep their prisoners here. Tell me, does that make you a target?"

He stares Joker down.

Joker tilts his head the slightest amount. His eyes are tired. "What makes you think I escaped?"

It clicks into place.

The twin sisters had called him an inmate, not a fugitive. The surveillance Joker is so afraid of...

Joker is in Tokyo on probation. Akechi has known that for months. If that connects to the cognitive world, to here... If society considers him a prisoner of sorts... Of course he's being supervised.

By whom, though? Who are those girls? Are they cognitions that belong to Mementos?

"Stop flirting!" Oracle calls to them, following Fox to the door of the safe room. "We have more important things to do right now."

Akechi's eyebrow twitches, but he uncrosses his arms and follows her.

The infiltration is simple.

It's the easiest infiltration Makoto has been a part of so far. That doesn't seem right.

She starts suspecting a trap halfway through. She's looking over her shoulder the whole rest of the journey into the depths, expecting to be ambushed by the actual dangers that should be guarding the whole of society.

Yet, they reach the Treasure without any issue. It doesn't make sense.

Makoto isn't surprised when the Treasure starts talking. There had to be a catch.

"I am the granter of dreams for all who behold me. A being most commonly known as the Holy Grail." The voice reverberates through her bones unlike any other Palace ruler's.

"The Prison of Regression is representative of the collective desires of humanity," it booms. "They wish to be chained down, surrender their cognition, and neglect the world around them."

To think this is the will of the public... If it's telling the truth, what are they doing?

"These feeble-minded commonfolk-"

"Kohryu!" Joker's voice snaps, cutting it off, and the air twists. The lights on the Holy Grail flicker from the force of the attack. It falls silent. Oracle whistles.

Makoto twists to stare at Joker, and she gets it. Suddenly, she gets it.

His eyes are burning with a rage she rarely sees from him. Even as the Holy Grail starts shining, healing, his expression doesn't change.

The Depths of Mementos weren't made easy in order to lure them into a trap. Her Phantom Thieves are just that strong. It seems so easy because this is exactly what they've been training for.

They'll win this. Makoto is sure of that now.

Chapter Text

"Oh yeah, it's that season, huh?" Ryuji is like an excitable puppy, but Akira is too distracted to pay it much mind.

"That sounds good to me," Makoto allows.

The fireworks festival... but Futaba went with them to the fireworks festival. She hasn't even contacted them yet. Isn't this too early for the festival?

"Doesn't a fireworks festival sound good? You think so, too, right?" That was aimed at him.

Not really, but it's not like Akira can say that. "Sure."

Did he miss an opportunity to make contact with Futaba? She had said she was the one to ask the Phantom Thieves for help, but maybe they had made contact with her before that...?

"You're thinking too hard," Ryuji tells him. "Cheer up! Leader said it's good, so a fireworks festival it is. Let's look for one close by."

Makoto ducks her head and mutters something so quietly Akira has to strain his ears to hear it. "You don't have to call me 'Leader'..." she raises her voice. "More importantly, we're supposed to be studying! I won't tolerate anyone failing their exams, so you better get back to it, you hear me?"

Ryuji gulps. "Yes, ma'am..."

Akira has spent the entire week studying things he already knows, so he allows his mind to drift to the future while the Phantom Thieves move on around him.

He'll have to start actively looking into Futaba's situation from now on. If she's not with them when the fireworks festival rolls around, Akira will be behind schedule.

To be fair... The Thieves seem happy. Relaxed, even. Akira glances around and sees no dark circles, no perpetual frowns--except for Makoto, maybe. Makoto always looks stressed. That's normal.

They're not having a hard time. Maybe Futaba isn't strictly needed for now.

And, who knows, maybe the Phantom Thieves went to two firework festivals that summer. He isn't necessarily behind schedule.

When the firework festival comes and goes without any contact from Futaba, Akira really does start worrying, no matter how much he tries to stay focused on his goal.

He's not sure how Futaba came into contact with the Phantom Thieves the first time, but he does know she has bugs in the café. It's the first time he invites the group to hold a Thieves meeting in Leblanc itself.

He feels a bit dirty for tricking them into thinking it's safe, but it's Futaba. She's not going to expose them.

Behind schedule, his brain keeps telling him.

Chapter Text

When the Phantom Thieves come to Leblanc with Sojiro's daughter (Sojiro's daughter!?) past closing time, Akira is helping clean the tables.

"Why's Frizzy Hair here!?"

"He lives here," Futaba says casually, like she's not talking to a cat Boss can't hear (nor possibly allow in the cafe, Akira thinks, and yet... Not even the fact that they're closed seems to matter at all to Boss. He lets the group wander in without comment).

He gives an awkward wave to Takamaki, Morgana, and Sakamoto, and escapes upstairs.

He's not going to pretend to be involved with them, no matter how worried he gets--he has no right. Luckily, Boss lets him. He seems too preoccupied with Futaba to care at all about where Akira is going.

Futaba starts coming to Leblanc a lot more often than the Phantom Thieves as a group do, and though at first she avoids Akira just as much as he avoids her, she doesn't have a reason to stop herself when she gets curious.

"So... Are you really a criminal?" she asks one day, and Akira almost drops the serving spoon into the curry he's making.

Boss definitely hasn't told her that. He was too shocked after Futaba said, the very first time, that Akira was living here. He can't have told her any details.

A long pause, before Akira quietly says, "Yeah." He keeps stirring.

"Like, really-really? Not like adults-tricked-you-into-feeling-like-a-criminal-for-their-own-benefit really?"

Akira stares at her, taken aback. She shrinks away slightly.

"You just don't look much like a criminal," she mumbles.

She's blunt, and that almost sounds like confidence most of the time, but she's still very shy.

It takes weeks for her to try again.

"Do you like working for Sojiro?" she asks as he's cleaning counters. Boss is off buying groceries. "I thought you already had a part time job."

Akira grimaces. His eyes stay fixed on his work. "Boss talks to you about me?"

"Nothing like that," Futaba says. "I have bugs all around the café. To keep an eye on Sojiro, you know. So I hear you guys talk."

Alarmed, Akira looks up.

"They're not in your bedroom," she says quickly. "I wouldn't do that."

Right. That's... reassuring?

"I... I like working for him," Akira says, at a loss to say anything else.

Does he actually? He doesn't know and it doesn't matter. He likes keeping busy.

When she's gone, he checks the café and then his whole room for bugs anyway. As promised, he finds some in the café and none in his room.

Futaba is... nice. She's a bit of brightness to contrast the general gloom of Leblanc. It doesn't take very long for Akira to catch on that she's using him as practice for talking to other people.

He becomes more responsive after that. She's making an effort, and who is he to hinder that?

"I want to go to the fireworks festival," she complains to Sojiro.

"If you want to," he says easily.

"But I don't want to!" Futaba pouts. "It's... It's way too far away. I can meet up with my friends there, but I'd have to travel there and back on my own."

That's a dealbreaker for her. She gets quiet. Sojiro looks at a loss for how to help.

"It would be way too crowded for my car," he says, trying to figure out a solution anyway.

"No fast travel," Futaba confirms miserably.

On a whim, Akira says, "I can take you, if you're comfortable with that. I was planning to go anyway."

He wasn't. He doesn't like fireworks.

Futaba considers it, worrying her lip. "... Maybe," she says. "Will the train... be very busy?"

"Yeah," Akira says softly. "But that just means no one will be looking at you. Crowds are good like that."

Sojiro looks at him oddly, like he's said something unexpected.

Futaba nods along slowly.

"Okay!" she declares, much louder than him, sitting up. "Quest accepted. I can't take it back now. I have to do it."

Akira smiles at her enthusiasm. "You don't have to," he reminds her.

"No, I do," she says stubbornly.

The night of the fireworks festival, Futaba is waiting outside of Leblanc for him, having a quiet anxiety attack.

Akira crouches next to her, and even softer than usual, he says, "You really don't have to, if you don't feel like it."

Futaba swats a hand at him without looking at him. "Shut up," she says. Her head stays down.

Akira shuts up.

After a few minutes, he says, "I'll be right back," and goes back inside.

He's seen Futaba wearing a festival mask before, occasionally. She seems more comfortable with it on. He figures, when it's an actual festival, she can definitely get away with wearing one.

He only has the one, and it's not very good, considering he made it himself at school. Hopefully she's okay with it anyway.

He picks it up carefully from its place displayed on the shelf, fingers dusting over the black and red marks, flaring like wings over the porcelain white. Or, that had been the intention, anyway.

Akira had never technically seen his own mask, considering it would disappear whenever he'd taken it off, but he somehow has a solid image of it in his head anyway.

When he passes the coffee pitchers downstairs, he pauses and asks Sojiro to fill a thermos with decaffeinated coffee.

By the time he steps outside again, Futaba looks calmer. She's still crouching, though, curled in on herself. She doesn't look ready to move.

"Here," Akira says, handing her first the mask and then the thermos. She has a bag big enough for it, one that looks impressively good with her yukata. Akira wonders if Takamaki helped her pick her outfit.

"Oh," Futaba says, wonder in her tone.

"It's a festival," Akira says. "Might as well look the part, right?"

She stands up, and then, quickly and suddenly, she pulls him into a hug. She lets go just as quickly, as they both flinch from the action.

"Thank you," she says quietly, turning over the mask to put it on.

It's weird seeing it on someone else's face, even if it's a full-face mask instead of a eye-mask like his own. It's okay when it's Futaba, though.

"Let's go," she says, grabbing his arm to pull him along. She's really determined about this.

Chapter Text

On the next inhale, Joker's breath stutters.

Skull kicks the wall with his steel-toed boot again. "I don't fucking get it. Where are we supposed to go?"

"Quit making a racket!" Mona hisses. It's not the first time.

The silver walls loom over them.

"S'not like any shadows can get to us," Skull grumbles, gesturing at the wall of steel.

Even Queen adopts a scolding tone. "Calm down. We'll just check again. There has to be something we're missing. Something here will tell us the code."

Joker isn't listening anymore. He feels claustrophobic. He takes a step back, towards the elevator that brought them down here, before thinking better of it.

What is he doing? He can't abandon his team. His skin crawls.

The metal vault is huge, he can't even see the far wall, but it seems smaller every time Joker looks.

More clanging, metal on metal. Joker freezes, listening carefully. Waiting for orders that never come.

"... Joker?"

He zeroes in on Panther.

"Are you coming?" she says. The Thieves were all about to move forward, but she must've turned around when she noticed he wasn't moving.

Joker responds with a blank stare. She's asking him something?

She turns to him fully instead of just looking at him over her shoulder. "Are you okay to continue? Do you need to switch out?"

Panther is still used to being the de facto leader. When she notices things, she handles them herself. She doesn't think to tell Queen, or to call for a pause. She's used to people moving on her orders, and stopping when she does.

She had said she was fine, even happy, to hand off the role of leader to Queen, but she's struggling with following through.

When Joker finally answers, they're alone, the other five Thieves out of sight.

"... I can keep going," he says, after processing that that was a real question that she expected an answer to.

Panther looks skeptical. "You're sure? The safe room is right there, we can take a break if you need it. I know I could use one."

She's bad at lying, but Joker appreciates the thought.

When she looks around for support of her point, Panther notices they're alone. "Oh."

Then the siren alarm goes off for the fourth time that day, and her face pales. "Oh no."

She grabs Joker's hand to drag him along, but he's been spurred into action as well. They chase the Thieves into the labyrinth of Kaneshiro's palace.

It's pure bad luck that they run into a shadow right away.

Joker stabs it in the chest before it can react, backflipping to gain some distance. Panther retreats to his side. It starts transforming.

Joker becomes acutely aware of how little space there is to move around in.

They've entered some underground passage, though the only way to tell that it's under floor level is that they sprinted down the stairs just now. Everything is made of steel. Made to be unbreakable.

"Joker!" Panther says, optimistic relief in her voice as she recognizes the enemy. "This one's weak to ice."

... Fighting back. Right. Joker should start doing that. He hesitates, trying to remember which persona of his has ice skills.

He makes sure he has every elemental affinity during infiltrations, but Yusuke has been sweeping all the enemies weak to ice in this palace, and all his brainpower is taken up panicking about the walls.

Self-flagellation later. Panther is attacking with just her whip, causing a distraction.

"Nekomata!" Joker calls, because she's his most versatile. Does that include ice?

A second later, the enemy is frozen solid. Panther breaks it into pieces with a battle cry.

It does include ice.

Joker's heart is pounding like he's run a marathon, and his chest is tight. It would be really pathetic to have a heart attack in a palace filled with enemies that haven't yet managed to hurt him.

Panther is immediately moving again, taking a few sprinting steps away before she skids to a halt. "Joker?"

They have to find the rest of the Thieves. They were spotted in some way, they could be in trouble, and they're supposed to stick together. Close enough to provide backup, at least.

There's a distant shout, and this time Joker flinches.

They can't actually hurt him. He keeps reminding himself of that. None of it is real enough to hurt him. He never wakes up with bruises or nerve damage, and the pain never lingers outside of the Velvet Room.

Panther is in front of him, looking jumpy. She's glancing at the surroundings, then at him.

When something reaches for him, Joker flinches back. Panther visibly hesitates.

More clanging footsteps. Panther abandons caution and grabs Joker's arm.

It's not a hit--she's pulling him along. The second Joker realizes this, he starts actively keeping up, no longer needing to be dragged.

He counts heartbeats in a familiar attempt to block out the rest of the world. He's real. Even if nothing else is, he is real. Panther is real, too.

He pauses when she does, follows her lead. It's no time at all before Panther pushes open a door and they slip into another room.

There's windows here, and wood, and fabric. Office chairs. It's the safe room.

Joker's head is still swimming, but he knows this isn't right. "Wait," he says. "We're not regrouping?"

The words feel odd in his mouth, too big, not enough substance, not real enough. Panther looks at him like she hears it too.

"We'll regroup here," she says. "They'll have noticed we've split off by now and they'll head back to the safe room. We planned for that, remember?"

Yes, Queen did plan that out with them. They've never actually had to do it yet, though. This palace has been easier on them than the first two were, which is probably because they have strategies like that now.

Joker takes in the big windows, the fabric screens, the scattered signs of life. He scans the room again. His throat is still tight, but he can no longer reliably count his heartbeats, which he thinks is a good thing.

He's listening to other things again, like Panther's too-fast breathing, his own slower but irregular breaths, the shift of fabric and the creak of leather.

"... Okay," he says, because who is he to protest?

Queen might be the leader, but just like Panther, Joker is also having a hard time adjusting. He can't yet shake off the urge to follow Panther's lead.

"Good." Panther leans against the table, though she still looks tense, ready to jump into action at any second. "Take a breather. If they're not back here in the next fifteen minutes, we'll go look for them."

Joker doesn't need any more of a cue. He sinks to the floor, burying his head against his knees for only a second.

He thinks better of it as soon as his mind starts questioning whether the floor is wood or stone. He moves, resettling on an office chair, eyes open this time.

It doesn't feel like a break, but it's better than closing his eyes and letting his mind conjure up images of a different room.

It's at least a few minutes of stabilizing his breathing later that Panther asks, "So... What's your problem with this part of the palace?"

She's relaxed already, but Joker just tenses up further.

He answers anyway, after a pause. "Too much steel."

Panther chews that over for a few seconds. She soon gives up on figuring it out. "Too much steel?"

Joker shrinks in on himself. "Everything is loud," he mutters, hoping that's enough. Panther needs to know if things like this are going to keep happening, but that doesn't mean he wants to talk about it.

She purses her lips. She's really trying to understand.

Joker takes pity on her.

"Metal on metal. I can't stand that sound."

That has to be enough. It has to be, because Joker's voice trailed off to nothing at the end of that sentence, and if he's asked to repeat it he might just have another panic attack. He slumps, resting his forehead on the table's surface.

"Oh," Panther says. Her voice has gentled. "Okay. I'll keep that in mind."

It's at this point that they both seem to remember that she isn't the leader anymore.

"I'll let Queen know?" Panther ventures uncertainly. Asking him.

Joker glances up at her with a look that's too desperate for such a small thing. "Please."

She nods, both to him and to herself.

Joker lets his head fall back to the table and takes the time to bask in the silence.

By the time he's calm enough for the worry about his friends to seep back in, it's a good while later. Joker hasn't kept track, his eyes closed, but he wonders if Panther is keeping to that fifteen minute rule she set. Probably. She's bound to be worried too.

Right as he's wondering if he should take the initiative to head out, the door opens with a burst of voices that has Joker jerking up in his seat.

It's only when the door opens that sound and other sensory input can filter through, so that burst of noise is all the warning he gets before Skull's yell. "You're here already!"

It sounds like it's meant to be accusatory, but Skull's tone only manages to convey relief. He walks over, a sprawl of limbs when he collapses into a chair.

Panther has stood up too. "You guys are okay?" She looks them all over critically.

"I had it under control, Lady Ann," Mona says smugly. "They're all at full health!"

"We're fine," Shadow affirms.

"I'm glad to see we're all okay," Queen says, a lot more temperate.

Panther shivers. "That was scary, when we got split up and then heard an alarm go off... We tried to go after you, but there were shadows showing up everywhere because of the security level."

"Aw man," Skull whines. "So that was my fault too?"

"I told you to be quiet, idiot," Mona says.

"We shouldn't fight amongst ourselves," Queen says. "What matters is that it turned out alright. We can learn from this and do better next time."

Her affirming words calm Joker down the rest of the way. Right. He won't freeze up next time. Or, if he does, at least Queen will be prepared to handle things without him.

He quietly calls up High Pixie to be his mask, checking everyone's status. They really are fine now, whatever may have happened before.

Mona is always thorough, but Joker needed to check either way. He feels responsible.

Panther didn't say anything even close to accusatory, though, and none of the other Thieves have asked why they'd got split up in the first place. It really is live and learn with them, isn't it?

Joker doesn't deserve these kinds of friends, but he'll take them anyway.

Chapter Text

His second day at school is unlike the first.

Akira cares enough to listen to the rumors today, and is dismayed to realize he'd forgotten just how bad they'd been when the year started. They swim in his ears and block out any conversation.

None of it matters after second period, because Akira spots a dark-haired ponytail and realizes with a jolt what this whole do-over implies.

She's moving without struggle. There's bandages, but she's not carrying crutches or hauling an IV drip. Her eyes are shadowed-

The moment he realizes Shiho is still a student of Shujin, Akira makes a bee-line for her.

He almost falls right away when a particularly bad shot of pain up his leg sends him stumbling, and he's forced to take a moment to gather himself. He braces himself.

He ignores the looks he gets from the students closest to him, and at a steady, even pace, he crosses the hall. It takes too much effort.

"Hey," Akira says, and he bites down on the familiar name that's on the tip of his tongue.

Shiho seems surprised to see him standing there. She might have been the only one in the hall that wasn't staring at him before he spoke.

She looks dazed.

Before Akira can think of what to say--he doesn't have a plan, he should be going about this with more care--Shiho recovers.

"Sorry," she says, in a timid tone Akira hasn't heard from her in a long time. "Am I in the way?"

She steps aside, freeing up the lockers behind her.

Akira's thoughts stall as he notices a dozen things about her that he doesn't want to notice. All added up together, Shiho looks frail. Even while she was stuck in the hospital, she didn't look this breakable.

"... I'm sorry," he says after a moment. "I just thought..." He swallows, switches tracks. "Are you okay?"

Akira has had the better part of a year to learn how to interact with the student body at Shujin. He lowers his head, holds his hands awkwardly by his sides instead of resting them in his pockets as he used to do, and doesn't meet her eyes.

"I'm okay," Shiho reassures him. It sounds practiced.

Akira can feel most of the hall looking at them. His shoulders rise a little higher, defensive.

"Can we talk later?" he asks. It's barely more than a whisper.

Shiho hesitates, but then nods. "We can meet up during lunch, if you want."

She doesn't even ask any questions. Maybe she's realized how many people are looking at them.

"Thanks," Akira says. Then he makes himself scarce before he can ruin Shiho's reputation even further.

Instead of meeting up with Ann, Shiho spends her lunch period with someone she doesn't even know.

She sends Ann a text, so she doesn't worry. Shiho barely sees her best friend outside of school nowadays, and they usually take every moment they can get to spend time together. Shiho isn't sure why she's giving that up.

Except she does, really. He seemed like he needed someone to talk to. Her impression was only affirmed when Matsuda from class 2-D came up to her and told her to stay away.

Matsuda is usually nice. Shiho wishes he saw what she had.

She's feeling sick when lunch rolls around, and there's a low but persistent throb in her injured knee. She seeks out the delinquent transfer student anyway. He's waiting for her, loitering outside of class 2-D.

Shiho doesn't get too close to the stream of students coming out of the classroom, but he catches her eye and inclines his head for her to follow him.

He leads her up the stairs, and then once again. He doesn't go through the door to the roof, though. He sits down cross-legged on the landing, among discarded cleaning supplies.

It's abandoned up here, sure. Shiho wonders how he knows about this spot when it's his second day at school.

"You're... Akira Kurusu, right?" she asks. She stays standing. "The door is unlocked, if you wanted to talk on the roof."

A brief grimace flashes across Kurusu's face. "That's not allowed."

His volume is so low that Shiho has to put effort in to make out what he's saying, even in a relatively quiet place like this. She sits down like he has, and hopes that'll help.

It's not the most comfortable, but who is she to argue? If he has a record like the rumors insist, maybe he'd get punished extra harshly if he was found somewhere he's not supposed to be. Shiho doesn't want that.

"This might not be any of my business," she says slowly, when he doesn't speak up, "but... Don't let the rumors get to you, okay?"

His eyes widen behind his glasses. He stares at her.

Shiho clasps an arm around herself, and looks away. She doesn't know anything about him, and it feels presumptuous to say something like that, but if no one else is going to...

"They don't know what they're talking about," Kurusu agrees.

His tone is soft, but there's an undercurrent of steel through it now. Shiho feels relieved. She unpacks her bento while she waits for him to say what he wanted to say to her.

Her mom included pieces of carrot again today. They must still have some leftovers from Saturday night. She usually likes carrots, but she can't work up an appetite right now.

"I wanted to ask..."

Shiho looks up, and sees Kurusu pressing a hand to his chest. He's half curled in on himself, but it still doesn't look entirely natural. He's holding himself like she's seen Mishima holding his injured shoulder.

"Is there... something going on?" Kurusu asks. "If someone's hurting you..."

It's Shiho's turn to shrink in on herself, a lighthearted remark about his posture dying on her lips.

Yesterday was the first volleyball practice of the new year. For some reason, she'd dared hope that something might have changed, that maybe a new policy was instated over spring break or something that would limit injuries. She was wrong.

She brings a hand to the bruise on her forehead. "This... it's nothing. It's normal."

"It shouldn't be," Kurusu says.

Shiho can't look at him. "You're new, so you wouldn't know. That's just how it is here."

Kurusu pauses, and then, slowly, asks, "For the volleyball team?"

Shiho nods. She's still not looking at him.

She's not sure why she has to be the one to explain this, out of everyone at the school. Anyone else could've told him this.

No one else would speak to him, would they? That just makes Shiho feel worse. Someday, she needs to face reality and acknowledge that no one at Shujin will help anyone else. She'd be happier for it. Probably.

There's a pause before Kurusu says, "I'm staying with the owner of a café. It's always quiet, and they make great curry. You should come by."

Shiho looks up at that. That's kind of a weird thing to say, isn't it?

Kurusu looks completely serious. He also looks... sad, maybe?

Her first instinct is to refuse. He probably means well, but she's doing fine. She doesn't need a place to escape to.

She looks again.

Kurusu has only been at school for two days, and the entire student body hates him. Maybe this isn't about her at all.

This sad-looking boy might just need the same company he's offering. Shiho is... not busy enough to refuse something like that. School has only just begun, she has the time.

"Can I bring a friend?" she asks.

Kurusu brightens. His hands unfold, and he straightens up. "Of course."

A silent agreement is struck.

Shiho's gaze curiously follows the movement of his hands. It's not a gesture she recognizes.

The warmth in her stomach quickly sours. "I have practice today."

"I'll send you the address," Kurusu promises, taking out his phone. "Come by whenever."

Shiho musters a wavering smile. "Practice probably won't last all day. I'll see what I can do."

She always hopes practice is short. She shouldn't, she should be excited about training for the local championships this year, but she hasn't been able to feel excited about volleyball in a long time.

It's just a matter of trying harder. If she was better at volleyball, she'd enjoy the practice.

Shiho comes out of volleyball practice feeling even worse than she did going into it.

Usually it's the opposite. Usually she's at least glad to get to go home for the day. Today, though, she was doing especially badly. Her head wasn't in the game. Coach Kamoshida said she wasn't taking it seriously enough.

She almost cancels with Kurusu after all. She doesn't feel like doing anything else today, she just wants to go home and sleep.

When she takes her phone out of her bag, the first thing she sees is a new message from Kurusu with his café's address. She immediately feels bad for thinking about canceling. He seems so earnest, to the point that Shiho is questioning if he has a criminal record at all, or if that was just made up for the rumor mill.

She forwards the address to Ann.

Leblanc turns out to be a small café in the backstreets of Yongen-Jaya.

Shiho and Ann took the same train there, but by the nature of the Tokyo subway, they only find each other in Yongen-Jaya station. Ann doesn't immediately start interrogating her, but they're barely out of the station when Ann says, "Are you sure you're up for this?"

Shiho gives her a sideways glance.

"You don't owe this guy anything," Ann says stubbornly. "And you look... tired. You're always saying you should rest after practice, right?"

"This is kind of a break," Shiho says, her tone doubtful despite her efforts.

Ann doesn't argue with her.

"Over there," she says instead. "That sign says 'Leblanc'."

Shiho lets Ann go in first, like she always does. Ann is good at taking the lead.

"Good afternoon," Ann says cheerfully, plastering on a big smile.

"Welcome," an older man says, before he actually looks up and sees them. "Huh. It's not often kids your age find this place."

"That's my fault," a more familiar voice sounds.

Kurusu looks unmistakably relieved to see them. He's standing further away behind the counter, drying his hands with a towel. He's wearing an apron. It's an oddly fitting look for him.

The owner scoffs. "I didn't say it was a bad thing. I'll be honest, though, I wasn't expecting you to make friends this quickly."

"Oh, uh," Ann says. Shiho elbows her to shut her up before she can correct the man.

"We've heard good things about the curry," Shiho says politely.

The owner looks pleased at that.

"I'm Sojiro Sakura, but everyone just calls me Boss," the owner says. "Make yourselves at home here. That's two orders of curry, then?"

"Sure!" Ann says. "That sounds good."

"You, get out of my kitchen," Boss tells Kurusu. "I'll finish up the dishes."

"I can make coffee," Kurusu offers.

Boss shakes his head. "Don't kid yourself. I'm not letting you touch that brewer without solid proof that you're not going to set this place on fire."

Ann sits down at one of the booths, and Shiho slides in next to her, careful not to make contact where it might not be wanted. They look around.

Leblanc is small, almost cramped, and completely empty except for the two of them, Kurusu, and Boss. It's not entirely quiet, with the stove on in the kitchen and a TV on behind the counter, at a low volume. The whole café smells like a rich blend of spices and coffee. Shiho has never been to this kind of backwater place before. She thinks she likes it.

Kurusu joins them after a minute, sans apron.

Ann glances at where Boss had vanished into the small kitchen. She keeps her voice low. "So, were you arrested for arson then?"

Shiho hides a smile behind her hand. "Ann..." she warns.

Kurusu sits across from them. "No," he says, "Boss is just particular about his coffee."

Ann blinks at him. "Even you call him 'Boss'? Don't you live with him? Isn't he your family or something?"

Kurusu only says, "Nah."

It's complicated, Shiho reads in the lines of his shoulders. When the silence stretches, she comes to his rescue.

"What makes the curry here so good?" Shiho asks.

"Right," Ann says. "I've never seen a coffee-and-curry café. It must be pretty special if he didn't even need to ask us which curry we wanted."

Kurusu nods. "Boss only makes one curry, but I couldn't tell you what goes in it."

For some reason, Shiho reads this as a lie.

"Couldn't," she asks, "or shouldn't?"

Kurusu shrugs sheepishly.

Ann smiles. "Ooh, a secret ingredient!"

It's not the most comfortable, making small talk with a not-quite stranger, but Ann is here, and the atmosphere of the café helps a lot. Shiho slowly relaxes. She feels like she could spend forever here.

She texts her moms that she'll be having dinner with Ann, so they don't wait up for her. It's late enough that there's no way she can have Leblanc's curry and then a full meal after that.

Though Shiho almost completely manages to relax, she can tell Ann is still on guard, wary. She sounds too consistently chipper not to be.

The curry, when it's served, does a lot for the atmosphere.

Shiho is genuinely taken aback by the flavour. It's nothing like the curry she's used to. She needs a moment to process before she decides it's absolutely delicious.

There's this tang to it Shiho can't identify, and she thinks she probably wouldn't like it in any other context, but it makes every other flavour in the curry stand out more and it fits in perfectly.

She glances at Ann for validation, and she finds what she's looking for. Ann has lit up.

"It's really good," Ann says, amazed.

"Of course it is," Kurusu says, doing that same gesture with his fingers that Shiho saw while they were talking on the landing. He has his own plate of curry.

"I hope you don't mind if I come over here more often," Shiho says, before she keeps eating.

There it is again--an obvious expression of relief. Kurusu's shoulders lower.

He's not a bad guy. Shiho resolves to make time to come here. She can probably drag Ann along too, and if she can, it'll give her a reason to hang out with Ann outside of school.

She and Ann both need this, and she's willing to bet Kurusu does too.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Joker," Panther says, just before they enter Kamoshida's palace for the last time. "You're changing Personas all the time, aren't you? I'm not going to pretend to know how you do that, but we should probably know which ones you're using?"

She's still uncertain in her leadership role, but she's doing her best.

"Right," Joker says, and wonders how much he should explain.

Everyone is looking at him. Mona, Skull, and Shadow all look curious as well.

His breath stutters for a moment. "Um. I have Arsene, Kelpie, Silky, Orpheus Picaro, and Kushi Mitama."

Panther's blank look is telling.

"Sum that up for me?" she begs after a moment of pause.

"Healing, inflicting various status ailments, support skills, curse, physical, ice, wind, fire."

"So basically, you've got us covered," Skull says. Joker can tell he hasn't remembered a single skill from that list.

"Electric attacks are up to you," Joker tells him.

Panther is doing her best, but Joker can see her thoughts slipping through her fingers.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," she says, uncertainly.

"We'll be okay," Shadow reassures. "We tore through the shadows in the tower just fine last time, remember?"

Panther smiles back at her. "You're right."

It's their one and only chance to steal Kamoshida's sick desires, Morgana had said. They can't mess this up.

"You know the drill, Morgana," Panther says. "If we get into a big fight, stay back to navigate us through it, and heal as needed."

"Yes, Lady Ann!"

"It's Panther."

They're lucky Ann is the leader. Morgana wouldn't be nearly so okay playing the role of support if it was anyone else telling him to.

Chapter Text

By the time Makoto calls them together for a trip into Mementos, Akira looks about ready to snap.

Futaba doesn't know whether to find it funny or concerning. She likes funny better, so she decides to go with that.

He's been restless since Futaba dealt with Medjed, but when it faded the next day, Futaba assumed it had been the presence of a stranger in his group. He's quiet, and at a glance he's similar to her, and Futaba would definitely be uncomfortable with a new person joining her inner circle. She hadn't taken it personally.

It didn't take more than a few days to come back, though, and since Futaba spent basically the entire week with him, she got to see him wearing it, on and off. Sometimes he looks perfectly calm and focused, but most of the time he looks stressed out of his mind.

Futaba's relationship level definitely isn't high enough to ask him directly, so she shoots Queen a message about it.

Makoto: Thank you. I hadn't noticed it myself.

Makoto: He's been asking me about Mementos, but we've all been busy... I'll see what I can do.

Alibaba: mementos ?

Makoto: Could you ask Morgana? He explained it to me, too, so I think he'll do a better job.

Futaba snags the kitty the next time she sees him, despite his protesting mewls. She takes him inside the house.

"Hey kitty, what's Mementos?"

"Oh, so that's why you grabbed me," Morgana says. "You could've been more gentle about it, you know?"

Futaba stares him down.

"Mementos is the origin of all distortion. You might call it a palace." Morgana starts idly washing himself while he talks, smoothing over the fur Futaba had messed up. "Not one like yours, though. It's not just one person's palace, but the entire public's."

"Okay, so what? Why's that important?"

"I'm getting to it!" Morgana says. "You've heard about the Phantom Thieves' smaller changes of heart, right? We carry those out via Mementos. Everyone with distorted desires that strong enough to form a palace can be found in the depths."

Futaba has many questions. "What do you mean by 'everyone'? Is it all of Japan? The whole world?" She takes out her phone to type notes. "The depths?"

Morgana looks overwhelmed. Oops.

"Uh," he says, "the depths, as in, the depths of Mementos. Mementos is centered in the Tokyo subway system, but it keeps going down further. We're trying to reach the end. Well, I am, at least."

"Is it hard to find the way down?" Futaba asks.

Morgana shakes his head. "Finding a way down is pretty easy, but there's these huge locked doors in our way. We need to change public perception to open them. Remember how we needed you to open the door in your Palace, before we could go through?"

Futaba nods. It was so stressful she doesn't think she'll ever be able to forget it.

"If we make the public believe we're powerful, we gain that power in the Metaverse too," Morgana says. "That's what opens the doors, so that's what we've been trying to do."

"I'm glad," Futaba says. "I thought you guys were in it for the fame, and I really, really don't like being in the spotlight. I wouldn't have fit in."

Morgana looks away and mumbles, "That Ryuji sure is in it for fame." He raises his voice to normal speaking level. "But I'm not like that, Futaba. I'm dependable. I want to get to the end of Mementos to heal the distortion there, so that I'll return to my true form. I'm pretty sure that's what'll happen."

He doesn't sound very sure, but Futaba lets it go. "What's your true form?"

"A human, obviously!" Morgana's chest pops up. "You think a cat would be able to talk like this?"

"Hmm," Futaba says. "Kitty has a point. You're pretty weird."

"It's because I'm human," Morgana insists.

Futaba asks, "So, if you're going there to undo a curse cast on you, what's Joker going to do in Mementos?"

Morgana tilts his head. "Joker?"

"Queen says he's been pushing for it," Futaba says.

Morgana gives his best attempt at a shrug in cat form. "Maybe he just really wants to make good on our deal?"

Which brings them to Friday, when in the morning Futaba has the privilege of seeing Joker actually mess up social interactions, he's that stressed. It gets to the point that Futaba wonders if Joker is somewhat like her, with batteries that run out if he doesn't go to Mementos every so often.

Makoto takes them to Mementos, and for a while it does seem to work. Everything is back to normal in the group, Futaba can tell, even if she wasn't part of that normal before now. Everyone seems comfortable.

Futaba wanders and looks at things on the train platforms they encounter. If this is the public unconscious, everything must represent something about society. Even Necronomicon can't tell her what, but she has fun theorizing.

The first thing she notices is how Joker changes Personas. Another, then another, then even more. No one seems surprised by this, but no one else is doing it, either.

After the fight against some real estate agent, their only target that day, Futaba approaches Joker. "Hey, can you show me your Personas?"

Joker glances at her quizzically, but summons one. It's Unicorn.

"You don't have to summon them," Futaba says. "I can read 'em with Necronomicon, if you just... What do you call it? Swap between them?"

"Change masks," Joker says as if practiced, before doing exactly that.

"Damn," Futaba mumbles, looking at the readings on the inside of her goggles. "How does Queen keep track of all of these?"

A few minutes ago she'd seen Queen passing the baton over to Joker without a word, only for Joker to pull out an entirely new Persona and hit the enemy's weakness.

"She doesn't," Joker confides. "I tell her at the start of each trip what kind of skills I have access to. She plans accordingly."

Futaba startles. "Wait, so they change, too?"

"More often than I can keep up with, most of the time," Joker says.

They come to an arrangement soon after. Oracle can log his Personas and the exact skills and traits they have, without having to remember them. She can take over for Queen in telling Joker when he gets to hit weaknesses.

Queen readily agrees. Funny. Futaba had her pegged as a control freak.

That's all just the natural learning curve. Futaba had expected it. No, the real trouble starts when they find the brand new area behind the massive door.

"This place gives me the creeps," Panther complains. "I mean, more than usual."

Queen nods in agreement.

"Bones are cool," Skull protests, and Futaba can't tell if he means that or if he just likes disagreeing.

Rib cages are cool, sure. Futaba likes hers where it is. But there's something disturbing about the idea of driving through empty rib cages. Or are they bent fingers?

Nevertheless, they move on, and the cat transforms into a bus once again.

There is one signature that doesn't move. Futaba turns away from the Mona car, spotting Joker.

He's... shaking? It's hard to tell in the dim light.

What isn't hard to tell is the way that he's so close to summoning his Persona, his mask could disintegrate at any moment.

"Joker," she says, and she doesn't get any further, because Panther is suddenly at her back. Shadow trails behind Panter.

"Hang on," Futaba tells them, slightly alarmed, but Panther ignores her. Shadow gives her a reassuring smile.

"You coming, Joker?" Panther asks. While she sounds nothing but casual, Futaba notices she's stopped a respectable distance from Joker. No chance of bumping into him accidentally, or her leather tail slapping him if she turns around. (That's already happened once today while in battle, and going by Panther's exasperated reaction, it wasn't the first time.)

Joker's eyes focus on her. His inhale is stuttered, but when he speaks, his voice shows none of that. "I'm coming."

"Good, because I don't like this place," Panther says frankly. "We can't afford to spend all our energy here, either. We have exams soon."

Futaba has heard tales about Panther's porno level acting, but she's heard nothing about just how calm and reassuring Panther can be when she's not explicitly trying to lie. Futaba has to assume she's acting for some of it, because it works too well to not be practiced--Joker straightens up, nods at her, and makes his way to the Mona bus. He's no longer one twitch away from summoning Arsene.

"Wow," Futaba says, admiringly. "You gotta teach me."

Panther's smile fades into something more like a grimace. "I have no idea what I'm doing," she admits.

"You're doing great," Shadow says. "You're helping."

Something meaningful passes between the two of them, but Futaba's relationship level isn't high enough to unlock their tragic backstories yet, and she doesn't recognize it. She'll have to work on that.

Chapter Text

The very first time they encounter a shadow that can inflict Fear, it's one of their early Mementos targets, and it immediately goes for Joker.

Shiho doesn't see it happen herself, focused on charging her attack, but she hears Mona call out in warning; "Joker's scared! He might bolt!"

She spares a thought to how much status ailments suck, and prepares to dodge if the shadow comes for her next.

It doesn't have the opportunity. In a matter of moments, Joker darts forward, his knife in hand and his Persona on his heels.

"Joker!?" Panther calls out, panicked, as Joker descends on the shadow knife-first. Mona sputters in the background.

Arsene is absolutely coated in blue fire, at Joker's shoulder as he physically wrestles with the shadow, and Shiho doesn't like her chances of fighting through that. She hangs back and waits for her leader's orders, worry creeping into her chest.

"Mona!" Panther orders. "Switch with Skull, see what you can do for Joker! At this rate...!"

Joker is taking a lot of hits and brushing them off like they're nothing. They're not nothing, though, and Joker is losing ground even as he pushes forward.

"Got it!"

Shiho exhales, forcing her worry down. Mona's healing never fails, even if his navigation sometimes does.

"Persona," she calls, and Ariadne spins into existence as her mask dissolves. Together, they wait for an opening.

The next time Joker is thrown off, before he gets back up to launch himself at the shadow again, Ariadne steps in and sends the shadow flying with a punch. Panther is on it immediately, lighting it on fire, and while she's occupying it Zorro drags Arsene back by its collar. Morgana attempts to do the same to Joker, to little result.

The shadow falls over, and Shiho sees Panther hurry to put the fire out before she accidentally kills it.

It dissolves back into the form of a guy their age, wearing the Shujin Academy uniform. When it does, Joker goes still and blinks hard, released from the status ailment. Arsene's flames fade to a more reasonable level. Morgana falls over at Joker's sudden lack of resistance.

"Dude," Skull sprints forward, not waiting for Panther to return to the group with the treasure. "What was that?"

He's looking at Mona more than Joker. They're all familiar with status ailments by now, and just how crappy and disorienting they are every time. They're not going to interrogate Joker.

Shiho slinks up behind Skull, also checking over Joker, and she's relieved when it looks like he's already been healed by Mona. Arsene has returned to his side, hovering over his shoulders but not disappearing.

"I could've sworn it was Fear," Morgana says, his frustration audible. To Joker, he adds, "Uh, sorry."

Joker shakes his head and catches Skull's eye. Shiho isn't sure what they communicate between them, but Arsene finally disappears.

Panther returns to their little group, and Shiho notes how she makes sure to walk around Joker until she's facing him, instead of coming up behind him. Ann is so considerate when she wants to be. She says, "Everyone okay?"

Joker stands up. "Yeah. I... Yeah."

It got a little dicey, but Shiho thinks they all handled it well. If everyone's okay after a fight, that's a successful fight.

As far as Shiho is concerned, it was a fluke in Morgana's navigation, and everything seems to go well from there. Fear sucks, and she finds that out for herself the hard way--she feels awful for a good few minutes after that particular fight--but Morgana calls it out correctly from then on, so Ann knows how to respond appropriately.

She's almost completely forgotten about it by the time Yusuke joins the team, and she's taken by surprise when on one of their regular trips into Mementos, Fox is hit with Fear and responds by putting his katana through the shadow's throat. If Shiho didn't know better, she'd read his expression as ice cold fury.

It's less dramatic than the incident with Joker, maybe because they're better at working as a team nowadays, but it does hint that this might be a recurring thing. Now that Shiho thinks about it, Joker hadn't been hit with Fear again, so they never did establish whether it was a consistent reaction they had to watch for.

Poor Morgana is horribly confused. "But Fear makes you run away," he complains in the Shibuya Accessway later, his ears drooping. "I know that, that's how the metaverse works, so if I'm wrong about that..."

Shiho hesitates for only a moment before she reaches out to pat him on the head in reassurance.

She's proud of herself. She's getting better at physical contact again, as long as it's on her terms. That's something to be proud of, and there is no point in being sad that it's something she'd lost at all.

"No one is right all the time," she tells Morgana. "It's not like anyone else knows what's up, either."

"I guess you're right," Morgana mumbles, hovering only a few steps away from an identity crisis.

"How's it feel to be on team stupid for once?" Ryuji jibes, and Morgana's hackles rise.

As the two burst into an argument that Shiho immediately tries to tune out, Yusuke comments, "Is this how it usually goes?"

"You get used to it," Ann tries to reassure him, but even she winces when Morgana starts hissing.

Chapter Text

Futaba is shyer than Akira is used to, at first. Though that just means he knows this is going to work. She'll be more comfortable after she's acclimated.

It's kind of calming, to spend the days surrounded by friends, as just one person in a group. He doesn't need to be a part of the conversation, but he could be.

Maybe Akira needed this too.

It's on Thursday that the restless energy comes back.

It's just him and Futaba, and sure, Futaba doesn't need him to talk, which he appreciates, but there's also no ongoing conversation to distract him. The work behind the counter is monotonous and familiar, and while some days that's comforting, today is not one of those days.

Futaba is too occupied with her own anxieties to notice, but Boss isn't.

"What're you all fidgety for?" he asks. "If you have plans, you don't have to help around the cafe, you know."

"No!" Futaba yelps. When their heads turn to her, she gives an embarrassed squeak and ducks her head. Some of her long hair falls into the soapy water.

Joker shakes his head at Boss.

"Like I'm working with ghosts," Boss mutters, but he doesn't sound truly annoyed.

He stays distracted for the rest of the day. Boss' gaze burns, even if he doesn't comment on Akira's mistakes.

Alibaba: why do i have to learn to interact with people :C :C akira says nothing to anyone and he gets away with it

Yusuke: I believe he has a lot of interactions. He has a shockingly big social circle.

Akira: ouch

Alibaba: tell me ur secrets NOW

Akira switches to private messages.

Akira: not sure if it'll work for you

Alibaba: :O:O actual secrets

Akira: you know how in featherman r the kaijin are almost always foils for one of the rangers

Alibaba: !!!!!!!!1!!!

Perfect technique, caught her attention instantly.

It's an awkward and not entirely fitting analogy, but it's one Futaba will understand, which is what matters.

Akira: if those are the enemies, then to be friends with a ranger you'd need to be someone like them

Akira: simple really

Akira: get to know someone and change to fit their expectations

Alibaba: that's ridiculous do you actually do that (impressed)

Alibaba: hang on are you using your ability on me. are you pretending to like featherman r

Akira: who said anything about pretending?

Alibaba: !!!

Alibaba: you are not a real person

If it was anyone else, Akira might've interpreted this as a bad reaction. It's Futaba, though.

Akira: my 1001 friends think im a real person and that's what really matters

Ann: What do you think, Futaba? Ready for a beach trip?

Alibaba: oh i get a say this time :C

Ann: No, but I thought we could pretend

Alibaba: :C :C

Alibaba: argh yeah I guess

Alibaba: this is as prepped as I'll ever get

Makoto: That's the spirit!

Makoto: Ann, Shiho, and I will be over at your house in the morning to help you prepare.

Alibaba: I'll lock you out

Shiho: We have lockpicks <3

Morgana, reading over Akira's arm, gives a smug laugh. "That's our Shadow!"

Akira doesn't know what he's so smug about. Akira was the one to teach Shiho lockpicking when Morgana was busy hanging out with Makoto.

The summer days grate on him.

Not the heat, though Akira can't say he's a fan of that. The issue is the lack of school. The days spent hanging out with his friends.

They're great, and Akira loves hanging out with them and helping Futaba learn about the world around her. The buzzing under his skin disagrees.

"Joker," Ryuji says, which is how Akira knows they've already called his actual name several times. He looks up.

It's just Ryuji, Shiho, and Makoto in the shade of the parasol they've claimed. Ann walked off with Futaba earlier, and Yusuke must've left without Akira noticing. Morgana is still sleeping in the half-shade of Akira's open bag.

Seeing he's got Akira's attention, Ryuji leans forward. "What're you thinking about, man? You've got that serious look on your face."

"Do you think the next door is open?" Akira says.

Ryuji pulls a face at him. "Huh?"

Makoto speaks up. "In Mementos, right? Because the public believes we've defeated Medjed?"

That right there is why she is the leader. Akira nods.

"Huh," Ryuji says. "Didn't even think about that. Prolly."

"We won't know until we see," Makoto says. "I was thinking we'll get Futaba used to the easier levels of Mementos before we head further in."

She'd already been thinking about it. That relaxes something in Akira that's been wound tight over the course of the past weeks.

"Do you want to go to Mementos?" Shiho asks. "It's been a while."

"Soon," Akira confirms.

"Do we have any new targets?" Shiho asks, turning to Makoto.

"Not yet," Makoto says, "though there's still one we haven't identified. The rumors about someone assaulting others in Shibuya. I haven't had time to check it out..." her face pulls tight.

"I've been," Akira says. "I haven't heard anything."

"Maybe that one's actually just a rumor," Ryuji suggests. "Anyway, now's not the time to think about depressing stuff like that! Come on, aren't you guys getting in the water?"

Ryuji and Shiho have already gone swimming, and they're both dry by now. Akira was planning to, really--he'd love to cool off--but he'd taken one look at the knee-deep water and decided against it.

Obviously it's not all knee-deep, but those shallows are the most crowded, and it's what had drawn Akira's eye. He tries not to look at the water too much.

"I don't know," Makoto says, hesitant. "Shouldn't I stay here for when Futaba and Ann come back? What if something goes wrong?"

"I'll stay," Akira offers, snatching the opportunity.

Makoto shakes her head. "No, you should get to enjoy the water too."

Oddly illogical for their leader. She hasn't refused to delegate like this since she'd burned herself out in the process of taking on Kaneshiro's Palace.

Shiho looks between them and comes to the conclusion Akira hadn't yet. "You don't have to go swimming, you know."

Akira and Makoto glance at each other with equally caught expressions.

"Aw, man," Ryuji says. "I didn't think so little of us would like the beach..."

"Few," Makoto corrects. "And I do like the beach, I just don't like the ocean. I'm perfectly fine here."

She casts only half a glance at Akira, as if looking for support and then changing her mind.

He appreciates Makoto's continuous effort at not making him uncomfortable, but he's not a private person by choice. He'll say as much as he can safely get away with. Akira says, "I don't like shallow water."

"Well, want to head back in, Shiho?" Ryuji says. "You heard them, they'll watch home base."

Shiho reaches out for a fist bump, and Ryuji's whole face lights up.

Chapter Text

"Is everyone ready?"

"Oh!" Shiho speaks up. "Can I go on the vanguard this time?"

Ann blinks. That reaction is fair, because Shiho has never asked her that in the past. Shiho wanted very little to do with exploring Kamoshida's castle.

Shiho's eyes glimmer. "Come on, Ann! A museum!"

Ann looks confused. "What are you so excited about?"

Morgana laughs smugly. "She and I are just on the same wavelength!"

Shiho will admit to being excited. "I finally feel like a real phantom thief."

"Huh," says Ann. "Okay, if you want. Then Shiho, Akira, you're with me as usual. Yusuke, let's see what you're made of. Ryuji, are you okay staying as backup with Morgana?"

"Sure," Ryuji says. "I'll protect the cat."

Morgana makes protesting noises, and Ann levels a look at Ryuji. "You're not going to be fighting all the time, are you? It's dangerous to not be on the same page when you're in a palace."

Ryuji rubs his neck. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Don't worry, Lady Ann," Morgana says. "I take our infiltration seriously. I'll always be ready to provide support!"

Shiho mimics Joker and starts using the pommel of her short sword to smash apart the weird-looking ornaments.

It's great. Shiho thinks she gets the appeal of gacha games now. Although she doubts any game can live up to the experience of actually looting something.

Panther giggles at her. "You look like you're having fun."

"Sorry," Shiho says, feeling a little guilty.

"No, I didn't mean that in a bad way!" Panther hastily assures. "Gotta keep morale up, right?"

Shiho looks at Fox. Though he takes it all with a straight face, this can't be easy for him.

Fox sees her looking, and says, "There is a certain elegance in stealing goods that were acquired and kept by immoral means. I am filled with inspiration just watching you two."

Shiho smiles at him. She can't predict Fox's reactions yet, but so far, he's taking the whole distorted heart thing really well. She's glad.

"Hey," Joker says. Even in the Metaverse, his voice is quiet enough that she needs to turn her full attention on him.

"Bet I can find more treasure than you," he offers.

The corners of Shiho's eyes crinkle when she says, "Oh, you're on."

She doesn't wait for a response, already darting ahead. She's not used to losing, and she's not planning to get used to it, either.

"Hey," Panther calls after them, exasperated. "Don't be so reckless! There's security everywhere, you know!"

Shiho hears footsteps chasing after her, and she doesn't worry for a second.

Chapter Text

During lunch break, Akira checks his phone, and immediately smiles in relief.

A text from an unknown number accusing him of being a Phantom Thief probably shouldn't make him this happy. He's been waiting for Futaba to contact them for weeks now, though. He was getting worried.

"What are you doing?" Morgana hisses, peeking at his screen. "Don't just tell them stuff! What if this is Akechi trying some new tactic?"

Akira shakes his head. He does change the tone of his messages, though. Who are you?

He gets an error notification back.

That's fine. It's not much, but it's a first step. The most important thing is that she's reaching out.

Chapter Text

It would be a lie to claim Akira had relaxed at all over the past two months, but this is a new level of stress.

It doesn't make much sense to him. The time since his death has been undeniably stressful. It would have been stressful even without the nightmares, and the spacing out, and his senses lying to him. The fact that this is somehow worse... doesn't add up.

Akechi was his best friend. If he could've, Akira would've gone to see him the moment he'd realized he'd time traveled, just to confirm he was alive. Since he hadn't been able to do that, he should be ecstatic about the upcoming meeting.

Akira watches the days of the field trip tick closer with dread in his stomach.

Akechi has always been hard to get a read on. He'd said Akira was someone special to him, that that's why he'd chosen to approach him, but how true that was, Akira couldn't say. And, of course, Akira would need to stand out in the first place for Akechi to notice him, and that in itself is a stressful concept.

It would be nice if, with all the trauma dumped over top of it, his aversion to drawing any attention would've just faded away. It hasn't, so far.

Morgana notices sooner than even Akira does how distracted he is.

"Hey, Joker!" he says once, two days before the trip. Akira refocuses to see Ushimaru aiming a piece of chalk at his face. He barely dodges it.

Akira tries to figure out what Ushimaru is talking about. He fails.

His phone buzzes.

Ann: Geez...

Ann: You usually notice in time. Is everything okay?

When he's in class, Akira is usually more alert to hearing his name. He knows better than to ignore calls from his teachers. He fingerspells thanks to Morgana.

Ann is sitting in front of him, pretending to listen to Ushimaru. He can't shrug at her.

Akira: :/

Ann: (•᷄- •᷅ ;)

Yeah, he should've expected that. Ann always takes emoticons as a challenge.

On the first day of the field trip, Akira tries to relax. Unlike in class, he doesn't need to pay attention here. They're not going to be quizzed. Multiple worried students asked about that, beforehand.

He still hasn't learned to sleep standing up, but he does his best. It won't do him any good if he's hallucinating from a lack of sleep tomorrow.

He listens to his friends talk about Dome Town without offering his input. He'll go with them, if they do decide to go, but he'll probably just get some food and sit at a picnic table like an indulgent parent. He's tired. His chest hurts.

He's not even looking, and he's caught totally off guard when a familiar voice cuts into their conversation. "Excuse me? You're students of Shujin, aren't you?"

Akira's eyes shoot open to stare. He opens his mouth to talk.

"And what's it to ya?" Ryuji asks.

Akira closes his mouth. It takes too much effort.

"Ah, I'm Goro Akechi," Akechi says. "I saw your uniforms and thought I should make your acquaintance. We'll be filming together tomorrow, after all."

"Filming...?" Ryuji frowns.

"Oh!" Ann says. "I think I've seen you on TV before. Or, multiple times?"

"I make the occasional appearance, here and there," Akechi admits.

"Huh? You famous?" Ryuji asks.

Shiho lights up before Akechi can answer. "I remember now! You're a detective, right? It's nice to meet you."

"Ain't you our age?"

Akira has never been more grateful for all his loudmouth friends. If he had an opening to speak, he probably would've said something extremely irresponsible and gotten himself killed.

He thought he'd have time to brace himself, and would not be tempted to ask dangerous questions like where did you go? or why did you leave? or weren't we friends?

"I'm only here to check out the set today," Akechi is saying. "The recording is tomorrow, and, as I understand, you'll get to see all of it. I hope you enjoy it."

It's such a professional attitude. Akira bites his tongue on a too-familiar remark.

One severe misstep, and he's dead. He has to watch his words.

"We look forward to it," Akira says, with something he hopes is a placid tone.

"Dude," Ryuji says, turning to him, "I seriously thought you'd fallen asleep standing up. I mean, I wouldn't have blamed you."

"It's not that boring," Ann says.

At the same time, Akira says, "I'm not that skilled yet."

Shiho snickers, but she quickly stops herself. "Sorry," she tells Akechi. "Today was a bit of a disappointment. I'm sure your segment will be more interesting."

"I wouldn't raise my hopes, if I were you," Akechi says with a smile. "They always ask the same questions."

Akira stops himself from commenting.

"They'll be new to us," Shiho reassures Akechi.

"I'll do my best not to bore you," Akechi says in turn. "On that note, I really must be going. My day isn't over yet. I'm quite jealous you'll get to enjoy cake already."

"Huh?" Ryuji says. "Cake?"

Akira's friends exchange confused looks. Akira frowns.

"Oh, was I mistaken?" Akechi says. "I thought I heard something about delicious pancakes. Well, no matter."

Akira watches him go.

"You said he was some kind of detective, Shiho?" Ann asks. "His name sounded familiar..."

Shiho nods. "A high school detective. Koko called him something like, 'the second Detective Prince'...?"

"Sounds fancy," Ann says.

"Eh, forget about him," Ryuji says. "We were going to Dome Town! C'mon," he pleads, "I've never been before."

Akira shifts his bag forward to lock eyes with Morgana while their friends bicker over nothing.

"Yeah," Morgana agrees, his voice quiet.

And that doesn't make any sense. Akira thought he might've remembered wrong, but Morgana would know, wouldn't he?

Akechi shouldn't have been able to hear Morgana talk.

If he wasn't startled awake enough by seeing Akechi a whole day ahead of schedule, Akira is certainly wide awake now.

"You guys?" Ann looks at Akira and Morgana. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing," Akira says, before Mona can open his mouth. Ann studies him for a second before turning to shush Ryuji.

Morgana gives Akira a very clear she's-our-leader glare. Akira gives Morgana an equally clear shut-up-before-we-die glare. Or so he hopes.

His first thought was that Akechi time traveled as well, in which case letting Morgana expose him over a mistake that no one else caught would be Akira's worst idea yet.

Akechi hadn't given any other indication... but hadn't he? Akira hadn't been watching for hints of time travel. He'd been too busy biting his tongue.

It's a cold fear mixing with hope. The fear is familiar--the hope isn't.

It's probably wishful thinking. He shouldn't get ahead of himself just because...

He'd suspected, after Akechi's attitude towards the Phantom Thieves changed, that he might've joined them. That he'd gotten a Persona. But that had been very late in the year, and he'd never seen anything to confirm it. The closest he has is Futaba's allusion to her knowing what had happened to Akechi, which could have just been her hacking skills at work.

And yet, Akechi clearly has a Persona now. Akira's old theory suddenly has a lot more evidence to work with.

"Are you coming, Akira?" Shiho asks.

Akira painstakingly gathers the pieces of his broken attention off the floor. He tries to fit them together.

"Yeah," he says.

The live recording seems to leave all of them shaken.

"Didn't it seem like what he was saying might be right?" Ann asks.

"Well, yes," Shiho says, "but he was talking about what the Phantom Thieves could do. We know we wouldn't make people commit crimes."

"He made it seem like we're the bad guys," Ryuji grumbles.

"He can say whatever he wants," Morgana says. "The justice of it all is something we have to decide for ourselves."

Akira gives the Mona bag to Shiho. "I'll just be a minute," he says, when she looks at him in question.

He tries to keep his gait as even as he can, which is difficult when putting any weight on his right leg sends pain shooting through it. Morgana is looking. He can feel eyes on him as he walks away from the group, searching out the spot he and Akechi originally met. It's not far away, but with the low rumble of the crowd, it's probably out of earshot of his friends.

He doesn't have to wait long.

"Oh, it's you!" Akechi says, walking up to him. "I'm glad I found you. I wanted to thank you in person."

Akira turns to face him, and his heart sinks.

"To paraphrase Hegel, advancement cannot occur without both thesis and antithesis," Akechi says.

It's not the words, or the tone in which he says them--it's the way he tucks his hair out of the way as he speaks. Akira had called him on that tell months ago, a pointed comment of how he should just cut his hair if it gets in the way that often, and Akechi had not made that move once since then, solely out of spite.

This is not the Akechi he knows. He doesn't have a partner in time travel.

Beyond the crushing disappointment, a new question pops up. Without time travel involved, how would Akechi hear Morgana speak?

Akechi continues talking. He treads the same paths Akira already knows well, without any input needed. Akechi just likes the sound of his own voice that much.

"Since they have special talents, I assume their hearts must be burning with a sense of justice and duty," Akechi says. He speaks confidently. "However, I believe that justice is merely a facade, concealing their lack of true strength. If they encounter a truly powerful opponent, they would flee without a second thought."

Akira closes his eyes briefly to hide his reaction to those words.

He wishes. He wishes they'd fled like Caroline did. They must've recognized they were outmatched.

But then, so did Akira. He made the exact same stupid decision to go there and fight. He's carried the consequences everywhere since then.

"I don't think they would," Akira says, when Akechi leaves him an opening to respond.

"Oh?" Akechi raises an eyebrow. Akira wonders how long he practiced to get that expression down pat. "I was expecting you to defend them, but... you don't sound much like you're defending them."

Akira's lips quirk without humor. "Running when you're outmatched would be the smarter option."

"You continue to surprise me with your perspective," Akechi says. "I'd wager you'd make a great debate partner on the subject. Would you be willing to discuss this topic with me again?"

There is no universe in which Akira would reject him. Still, it feels even more important than it did before.

If it's not a time travel conspiracy, it must be a metaverse conspiracy instead. Akechi is wrapped up in something Akira knows nothing about. He can't accept that.

"Of course," Akira says, and takes the offered hand.

Chapter Text

Jokes on Akechi, Akira actually likes the passive-aggressive cosmetics gift he won from a bet, and he's going to use it.

He doesn’t know how to use concealer, but on god, he is going to learn. Akira’s list of acquaintances is short, and he’s pretty sure that from that list, only Akechi ever wears makeup, which means he’ll have to figure this out by himself.

After all, Akira's absolute favorite pastime is pretending not to catch on to Akechi's underhanded insults. It makes Akechi so annoyed. Not visibly, never visibly--Akira is still working on getting to see some actual emotion on the Detective Prince. It's in the slightly longer pauses, the prodding, the active effort Akechi makes to sound polite. Of course, more and more quickly over time, Akechi catches on that Akira knows that he knows. Neither of them acknowledge it. That would be losing the game.

When Akechi comes to Leblanc and Boss happens to be running the shop, he talks a lot more and says a lot less. Akira notices that, too. Akechi is easy to read if you watch for long enough.

Chapter Text

"I was wondering," Makoto says. They're sitting in the student council room, atmosphere still somewhat stilted between the two of them.

Joker tilts his head, prompting her to continue.

"You have all these Personas," Makoto says.

They've just finished establishing that, so Joker isn't sure where this is going.

Makoto had taken him aside to propose a routine for palace infiltrations. She'd already had this whole plan set up. Outside of the palace, before using the MetaNav to be teleported to the furthest safe room, Joker will run her through the team he has with him. She has a better organized memory than Ann, so it's actually possible that this will help her, too.

Outside of the Palace, Joker can also change his Personas--he simplified that explanation for Makoto's convenience. That means that if Makoto has any specific strategy or team setup for that infiltration, she can ask him to bring a Persona with the relevant skills.

Joker is looking forward to how efficient their infiltrations are bound to be from here on out.

After a pause to consider her words, Makoto says, "You're definitely the most versatile out of all of us, and Ann told me she didn't necessarily want to become leader. She didn't push for it, at the very least. So why weren't you the leader?"

Ah. "That's because I'm a bit of a mess," Joker says honestly.

Makoto has the audacity to look surprised. "In what sense? You're very composed, as far as I've seen."

Joker gives her a wry smile. "You should've seen how often Mona lectured me on keeping cool under pressure, those first few palace runs."

Most notably, the time he'd knocked himself out and missed Ryuji's entire awakening. Morgana had scolded him afterwards about being patient and waiting for the right moment to strike, if you're in an unfavorable position. Which is all well and good when you're not busy panicking.

Joker has the tendency to lose all rationality when pinned. He hasn't been able to correct it, even after Morgana's many words of advice. He just got better at not being pinned.

The way things are is fine by Joker. He wouldn't want to be the leader. He already feels responsible enough for the fate of all of his teammates--he doesn't need to add to that.

Makoto seems to carry some disbelief, but she doesn't voice it. She accepts it as a truth until proven otherwise.

Chapter Text

"I was going to say, if you hit it, you might get shocked."

"My bad," Joker says, trying to get his breathing under control. "Should've waited."

He's trying hard to act casual to compensate for how he can't seem to catch his breath, for how his hands are still trembling.

"That's fine, we're all learning," Queen says, before taking a second look at him. "You're okay, right?"

Joker quickly runs through what he's doing wrong for her to pick up on, and he catches sight of his dagger, still discarded on the floor. His hands are too shaky for him to trust that he can pick it up without issue.

He bites his tongue before he can say any of the things he wants to say.

Queen is very forgiving. He should have waited for her to finish what she was saying--that's definitely on him. He'd heard 'You can hit it, but-' and jumped forward. The shadow was so close to dying, he'd figured...

Shouldn't have figured.

Shadow picks up his dagger for him, and offers it to him handle-first. Joker automatically goes to take it, but when his hand doesn't respond exactly the way he wants it to, he thinks better of it.

"Hold onto it for me?" he asks. He almost dies on the spot having to ask that of her, but his dagger is very sharp, and with his hands this unsteady he knows better than to handle knives.

He's surprised when Shadow just nods at him and tucks it away. He'd expected her to... scold him, or... Why was he expecting that? Shadow is the sweetest person he's ever met, and Joker can't even imagine her yelling at him. He still feels like she should've. Like someone should've.

"Hey, dude," Skull says, and Joker flinches at how close he sounds. "You didn't answer Queen... You okay? That gel worked, right?"

"Do I look shocked to you?" Joker retorts.

"Kinda, yeah," Skull says.

Queen clears her throat. "It's about time to swap the vanguard out anyway. I'll take Fox, Panther, and Mona next. When they catch up, you guys will find a safe room to recover some energy."

Joker swallows down a protest. He's almost always on the vanguard, and for a good reason: Joker's Personas cover a range of weaknesses that the other three members can't cover.

They have enough elemental weapons in their bottomless pockets to get by, though, and Joker won't be a whole lot of help if he doesn't recover.

It doesn't make sense to him. He's been hurt by electric attacks before, and they've never done this. They've always felt more like an impact than actual electricity--Joker would know. He'd figured it was cognition at work, with anime warping society's view of electric attacks.

Then again, he's never been properly shocked before by one of those attacks.

"Sure," he agrees.

Chapter Text

"I don't know if I'm willing to kill someone," Ann says hesitantly. "Even if it's him."

"I am," Akira says pleasantly. Ryuji goggles at him.

"Dude, you what?"

"I'm willing to risk it," Akira clarifies. Here on the rooftop, out of reach of any other students or staff, his voice carries just a little bit further than it usually does.

He stops signing along, only to press one hand to his chest, where it ended up. The ache makes it hard to think.

When Akira doesn't continue, Morgana picks it up. "Like I said, there's a chance. If everything goes well, they won't die."

"What makes you think everything will go well?" Shiho asks, without an ounce of humor.

Morgana puffs out his chest. "Why wouldn't it? I have an amazing team here, and you're only going to grow stronger as we go."

"I... I dunno," Ryuji says. "There really ain't any other way?"

"Not that I know of," Morgana shrugs. He's blasé about this.

Akira himself isn't. He's sure his face doesn't give much away, he's practiced at looking clueless, but he wasn't kidding when he said he was willing to kill Kamoshida.

Even though Shiho is alive and well, his mind is made up. It has been, ever since he'd found out she had been on the volleyball team. She is still on the volleyball team. One way or another, Kamoshida has to go.

There are eyes on him in some capacity, Akira can tell, but he focuses on Ann. It's up to her, in the end, how they're going to proceed.

Truth be told, Akira will probably still try to do it even if she decides against it. He'd just much rather that the Phantom Thieves are backing him up.

Ann glances at Morgana with uncertainty. Morgana nods his encouragement.

"I..." Ann says, gathering her conviction. "I think we should at least make sure it's an option. You know, practice fighting there. I don't know if I'd risk killing someone to avoid getting expelled, but if Kamoshida tries anything else..."

At lunchtime today, Kamoshida had tried to grab Shiho. For ignoring his summoning yesterday, maybe, or whatever other excuse he would've come up with. He'd been confronted with three more upstart students and a cat, and they might have started a fight with him to prevent him from pulling authority over Shiho. He'd threatened to expel all of them, and boot Shiho from the team, and some less savory threats on top of that.

The rest of the lunch period, Ann was throwing up in the bathroom, with Ryuji and Akira forced to sit against the wall just outside and wait.

Akira doesn't regret confronting Kamoshida. He'll go to juvie if he's expelled again, but he can't bring himself to care at the moment. His criminal record seems so unimportant in the face of everything else.

He's sure he'll freak out about it more at some point in the future--he's kind of made a habit of that, freaking out. For now, he lets Arsene's anger drive him.

Agreeing, Morgana says, "I can at least teach you that much. But you have to decide to go through with it before I tell you exactly how to do it, okay? It's my most valuable secret plan, after all."

"Alright," Shiho says. "I'm okay with that."

"I guess I can't protest," sighs Ryuji.

Morgana looks at all of them, as if determining their conviction, before he looks back at Ann. "There you have it."

It's weird to see Ann struggle to settle into a leadership role that Akira already knows suits her. She nods at Morgana.

"We have an agreement," Morgana says, talking to everyone now. "I'll have to stay in the real world to help you properly, so who am I staying with?"

Akira ends up taking a cat-like creature home that day. He'll have to learn to share his living space, but it's... nice. It feels less lonely already.

Chapter Text

"What kind of girls do you like, Ryuji?"

In the quiet of the pitch black room, Ann's casual tone is almost jarring.

Ryuji's response is so easy it sounds practiced. "If she has a good personality, everything else doesn't matter."

"Okay," Ann says, "what if two equally nice girls confessed to you at the same time?"

Ryuji considers it for a good few seconds. "I guess it'd have to be the one with the hotter bod."

"So you really are that kind of shallow person, after all," Ann says.

"Hey! That's not fair!"

"The second response sounded way more real, you know," Ann says. There's a smile in her voice.

Ryuji sputters and deflects. "What kind of girls are your type, Akira?"

"I don't have a type," Akira says.

Ryuji shakes his head. "Right, my bad, you're already dating Akechi. Gotta say, terrible taste, dude."

Akira sighs. "I know."

"Well, we both answered honestly, now you gotta," Ryuji tells Ann.

Ann giggles. "You want to know my type of girl? Well..." She pauses. "I think I'd have to go for the one with the hotter bod."

"Aw, stop teasing me!" Ryuji says.

A shifting sound comes from Mishima's bed. "Sorry," he says sleepily, "did you say something about Akechi? Or was I just having a really weird dream?"

"It was a dream," Akira says quickly.

Joking around with the other Phantom Thieves is one thing--Mishima is the type of person that believes the first thing he hears and then never accepts any other answer.

"Alright," Mishima says. He doesn't sound entirely convinced, but he does turn back around. His breathing evens out again immediately.

"Nice save," Ryuji whispers, too loudly.

Chapter Text

Akira sees the look on Shiho's face, and fresh hatred threatens to burn a hole through his chest.

She's looking anywhere but at her phone's screen and the text message there, though she's clutching it tightly, her knuckles white.

"Shiho..." Ann says quietly.

It's not like Shiho was wrong when she said that she couldn't ignore him. He's her coach. It wouldn't help to ignore him now, she has to go back to him every day.

Akira has never hated Kamoshida the way he does right now.

"Look," Ann says, glancing at her own phone, which she'd taken a call from only a few minutes ago. One that had made her cry a little, one that neither Shiho nor Akira had dared ask about. "You need a break from training if you ask for it, Shiho. I can... If you..."

Ann swallows thickly. Shibuya Station moves around the three of them, perpetually alive.

"Don't, Ann," Shiho says softly. "There's nothing wrong. You don't need to do anything. I just... I have to come to practice, or he'll throw me off the team. That makes sense."

"He won't," Akira says, with a vehemence that has Shiho do a double take. He promises, "He won't be able to do that."

Akira barely hesitates in the next decision. By this time tomorrow, Shiho could be in the hospital. He won't let that happen.

"Don't answer it," he says. "Just come with me."

"What are you doing?" Ann says, but for some reason she seems to trust him. She follows on his heels, hand in hand with Shiho, who looks just as lost. They head back to the Ginza Line.

Shiho asks, "We're not going to Leblanc?"

That's where they were headed, with the excuse of studying in a quiet place. It's not where they're going anymore.

Akira leads them back to the school, and Ann and Shiho follow him for some inexplicable reason. On the subway, Akira takes out his phone and texts Ryuji. He's going to fix this.

Ryuji is already waiting for them in the alley in front of Shujin, when they get there. There aren't many students around, so Ryuji spots them immediately.

"Woah," he says, eager when he realizes who's walking with Akira. "Did you convince them to talk?"

Silently, Akira comes to a stop. He opens the metanav and presses the navigation button.

"Wait, what the-" Ann yelps as the world twists around them.

"What-" Shiho's voice wavers as she cranes her neck to look at what now stands where Shujin stood. "What is this?"

"Why'd you do that?" Ryuji bristles, shrinking in on himself like he's self-conscious about his metaverse outfit.

"We can take him out with this," Akira says, in a soft tone that could be mistaken as 'calm'.

When the two girls turn to him at the sound of his voice, Ann reels back. "What are you two wearing!?"

Shiho says firmly, "I think you need to explain what's going on."

"Uh," Ryuji says, looking between them and Akira in a panic. "I, uh... damnit, where's Mona-Mona when you need him?"

"This is Kamoshida's world," Akira says. His hands follow along, signing the words he knows. "We don't have to confront him. We can change his heart in here."

"Dude!" Ryuji says. "They can't fight!"

In one simple move, Akira pulls his knife from its sheath and flips it. He holds it out to Shiho handle-first.

With wide, confused eyes, she takes it.

"What the hell," Ann says, looking between Ryuji and Akira and the knife and the castle. "Seriously, what are we doing here?"

"Actually..." Ryuji chews the inside of his cheek. "She's right. What are we supposed to do here? We can't even take pictures as proof, remember?"

So that's what Akira was forgetting--Morgana hasn't told them how they can change Kamoshida's heart yet. He was supposed to do that today, but he didn't show up at the school, and Akira has no idea where he is now.

... Is he already in reality, looking for them? Akira vaguely remembers Morgana complaining that he'd been looking for days. And Akira had delayed their second trip into the metaverse, so Morgana would have had less time to find them.

Akira shifts when he realizes everyone is looking at him for answers. "Kamoshida doesn't know what happens here, but it's directly connected to his subconscious. We could change his mind from here."

"By... fighting?" Ann sounds skeptical as well as confused. "We can fight his subconscious?"

Akira shrugs. That's pretty much all he knows.

"How is this his subconscious?" Shiho asks, staring at the castle walls again. "It's so..."

"Grandiose," Ann says.

"I was going to say real."

"We don't know that either," Ryuji says, "but Akira's right. We can do something here, can't we?"

"Like what?" Ann asks. "Tell him to be nicer?"

Akira realizes that neither of them are understanding the scale of this, the scale of Kamoshida's actions.

"Come with me," he says. "It's better to see for yourself."

"If you're sure about this," Ryuji says reluctantly.

As soon as Ann sees what's really been happening to the volleyball team, she stops sneaking around and seeks out Kamoshida's shadow. In the ensuing confrontation, Shiho sees Kamoshida's cognition of Ann.

She feels sick. She's disgusted and terrified. She's also not surprised. Surprised that Ann hid this from her, maybe, but not surprised that Kamoshida could sink this low. Shiho has always known.

Ann rejects this injustice in a way that Shiho has long since lost the will to, and she earns the power to fight back all on her own. Shiho is almost jealous, except Ann's blood litters the carpet where she ripped off her mask, and she's crying, and when the fight is over she collapses entirely in exhaustion. Her costume doesn't change back into her school uniform, and collapsed like that, Shiho barely recognizes Ann.

"I'm sorry," Shiho murmurs, as she slings Ann's arm over her shoulder and carries most of her weight out of the room. She's sorry she couldn't fight too, sorry she didn't see what Ann was going through for her.

Ann makes a sound of protest, but it's weak in her current state. Ryuji takes Ann's other arm, and carrying her gets easier.

Shiho is already lost, but Ryuji seems to know where they're going, and he's assuring her they're almost at the exit when Akira gives a wordless shout of warning. Shiho almost drops Ann with how quickly she turns around.

He's facing three enemies Shiho hasn't seen before. It's a good thing he was watching their backs, because getting ambushed now would be devastating.

Ryuji jumps forward, leaving Ann's weight to Shiho. Ann tries to straighten up, panting out words. "I can... still fight...!"

"Let them handle this," Shiho tells her, but at that moment, Akira's Persona reels back from a blow Shiho didn't see, and Akira cries out--not in pain, but in a kind of despair Shiho hasn't heard from anyone before. His Persona vanishes in a flicker of flame.

"Akira!" Ryuji calls in worry, but he refocuses on the enemy coming at him before it can throw him across the room. Shiho shrinks in on herself as the other enemy advances on Akira, only held back by a hail of bullets.

Ryuji can't help, Ann definitely can't, and Akira has officially run out of bullets. Shiho's stomach turns. She still has Akira's knife on her, so he doesn't even have a close quarters weapon.

She still has Akira's knife. There has to be something she can do with it.

"I'm going to put you down now," Shiho tells Ann, "okay?"

Ann sees the look in her eyes, and insists, "Go!"

Shiho lets Ann sink to the floor and takes out Akira's knife. She runs.

The knife guides her. It flies past Akira, Shiho following it closely, and buries itself where the heart should be on the enemy.

It's not enough. The puss-in-boots-looking thing laughs at her and throws her--knife and all--across the room. Shiho barely manages to not cut herself open as she rolls several times, until her momentum is broken.

Not far away, she hears Ann shout. Shiho grits her teeth and gets to her knees.

Can you feel it? something whispers to her. Her eyes are drawn to Ryuji and Akira, both fighting, Akira looking worse for wear by the second as he's reduced to dodging.

For the sake of your future, that same voice tells her, you shouldn't associate with bad people. It will only bring you pain. They told you this.

They did. After their first practice of the year, Kamoshida took her aside and told her to stay away from the delinquent. He's not worth it.

Through gritted teeth, through the pounding headache, Shiho hisses, "I'm not going to stand by and watch people suffer. No matter what you tell me."

Good, it says, pleased. Let us form an agreement. You will listen to your heart, and no words will lead you astray. You've always known what is right, and hereby I grant you the power to follow through.

A spike of pain through her head has Shiho cry out. Her vision swims, her legs threaten to give out. Her conviction burns all the same. She won't run away.

If there is no place for compassion, we will create it, it says. Vow to me. I am thou, thou art I.

Heat blazes across her face. Shiho knows it to form a domino mask, as if it's something she's always known. That same part of her knows the name of her other self by heart.

They'll listen to you this time, so scream our justice to the world. Don't you dare doubt yourself again.

"I won't," Shiho swears. She feels for the edge of her mask.

Her head is killing her, but she's never felt more alive. Loud enough that the whole room hears, she yells, "Follow my lead, Ariadne!"

Her mask comes off in a haze of blood and agony. Shiho grins through it, because Ariadne is there with her.

She won't have her will broken again.

Chapter Text

It was a flawed idea to begin with.

Right after time traveling, Akira had told himself that he'd be nicer to Akechi. He'd treat him gentler, make it clear he does consider Akechi a friend. At least be nice enough that he'd get a farewell message before Akechi disappears.

As soon as they meet again, Akira fails his self-assigned mission.

Akechi is self-absorbed and obnoxious and deliberately petty. Akira naturally falls back into a pattern of sniping back and forth, of insults hidden under layers and layers of formalities. It soothes something restless in him.

Nothing has changed.

"You're rather good at this," Akechi says.

Akira doesn't look up from the cue he's lining up. "Good enough for you to stop handicapping yourself?"

Akechi chuckles sheepishly. "So, you noticed that. I didn't expect to be seen through this easily."

Akira goes for a bank shot. He misjudges.

"You're not as subtle as you think you are," he says, passing the cue stick. Akechi accepts it with his left hand.

It feels like a victory of sorts, even when Akechi cleans the table.

Akechi chuckles lightly. "I believe I'll go back to handicapping myself after all. Billiards becomes less fun as you get better at it."

"I don't believe that at all," Akira says blandly, watching Akechi's self-satisfied expression. "But go ahead. Who am I to interrupt my opponent while he's making a mistake?"

Akechi's eyes glitter. "Ah, a challenge. We'll see."

He's setting up the balls for another game when he asks, apropos of nothing, "Are you an avid reader?"

Akira doesn't hesitate over that question for more than a few moments. "Not anymore."

Akechi hums. He doesn't ask further, which means there was more information in Akira's tone than he'd intended there to be.

Right, Akira recalls. It wasn't out of nowhere. He definitely did misquote the Art of War just now, and Akechi is the kind of person who notices that.

He's been too busy to read much of anything since he died. Too busy to miss it, either.

Chapter Text

Akechi enters Leblanc and has the absolute audacity to look surprised.

"Oh! You...?"

Futaba's already hiding behind him, and Akira can't blame her.

"You two know each other?" Boss looks between the two of them.

"I'm Akechi."

"Oh, the one on TV, right...? What brings you here, Mr. Detective?"

"We had coffee together yesterday," Akira says, which is true, but misleading. He's glad he cut Akechi off, because Akechi looks a lot less inclined to be pleasant after being identified like that.

Futaba gasps softly behind him. Boss' eyebrow raises.

"Is that so?" he says, giving Akira an approving look. "Maybe I should let you run the café for a bit? I have some groceries to do, anyway."

"I'll come with!" Futaba says, so quickly Akira can barely separate the syllables.

"There's no need for..." Akechi says.

Boss waves him off. "It might take a while, so keep an eye on the curry, will you?"

"Yes, Boss," Akira says.

Futaba is plastered to Boss's side as they walk out.

Akechi waits until the door closes, then turns to him with a stink-eye. "Was that truly necessary?"

Akira takes a moment to turn his phone to silent. He can read Futaba's commentary about this later. He says, "I take it you're not here to grace me with your presence?"

"I truly did not know you would be here," Akechi says. "It came recommended by a colleague of mine, see..."

Akira nods along. "Of course. Worth far more than my recommendation, I understand. What was it you said? Back-alley coffee?"

Akechi laughs it off. "Careful, Kurusu-kun. You'll make me think you're jealous."

Akira sighs. "What'll it be?"

"I hear the house blend coffee-and-curry combination comes highly recommended," Akechi says, with humor.

Akira side-eyes him for it.

"Are you sure? You'll never want to eat anything else again. Are you prepared for that?"

"I believe I have quite high standards," Akechi says. "You'd be surprised at how much it takes to exceed them."

Akira knows exactly how much it takes.

Alibaba: when were u gonna tell me you were dating the detective rival of the phantom thieves

Alibaba: joker xxplain, he can't marry into the guild, he wants to disband the guild

Alibaba: I see what you mean now by changing to fit

Alibaba: r u srsly discussing medjed with him wtf

Alibaba: you are so whipped my guy

Alibaba: his 'go-to cafe' ??? joker tell him to back off noooo

Alibaba: I will tell on you

Alibaba: joker is dating the detective prince

Ann: He's WHAT

Ryuji: Say sike right now

Akira: i knew that would come back to bite me

Akira: this is a misunderstanding

Chapter Text

"You know, I've been invited to your school festival," Akechi says, apropos of nothing.

Akira raises his eyebrows, turning his head so Akechi can see his expression. "Impressive. I wasn't even invited."

Akechi hums. "It's as a guest speaker. I'm thinking about attending."

Even more surprising. Akira turns away from his crossword puzzle entirely. "Why's that?"

"It's where the Phantom Thieves were formed, isn't it? Perhaps I can find out more about them."

"Didn't you say that they've been active for a lot longer?" Akira says lightly.

Akechi chuckles. "Now, I didn't say that. Only that their methods may have been used in crimes before their public appearance. Despite what the rumors say, I don't believe they're murderers."

Akira scrutinizes him. That was awfully in character.

Akechi has long corrected his tell of tucking his hair behind his ear when he's lying, but Akira can still pick up on patterns, and this opinion seems... off. Expressed too suddenly. Akechi is trying to convince him. Why?

"Not that I need to tell you that," Akechi says pointedly, when the silence stretches too long. Course-correcting. "You've always thought of them as a force of good, after all."

The light condescension sounds a lot more real, but now Akira is questioning it.

"Hmm," he says.

When he doesn't add to it, Akechi wheedles a refill out of Akira. The subject changes.

Akira doesn't manage to focus on his crossword puzzle again.

Chapter Text

The day after Akechi is forcefully re-recruited, Joker invites him to a team meeting at Penguin Sniper.

It's vaguely ridiculous to Akechi, but unfortunately for him, Joker has already lured him in with an ongoing mystery. Even besides that, Akechi has more or less agreed to work in a team, which makes team meetings mandatory.

The group has several rounds of billiards down before Nijima even asks him, "Would you be willing to take us through the palace?"

"Why not just send the calling card?" Akechi suggests mildly. Sakamoto looks uncomfortable at his tone--good. "I have everything we need to enter the main chamber."

"That won't work," Kitagawa says bluntly. "We've barely seen any of the palace, much less its enemies."

"Right," Nijima picks it back up. "In President Okumura's palace, we only beat him because we knew the weaknesses of many of the robots that were thrown our way."

"I doubt that will be an issue," Akechi says, but he thinks about it.

"That, and to our knowledge, you don't have a grappling gun," Okumura adds.

That's right. Two of the three 'will seeds' in Sae's palace required use of Joker's grappling hook. That may be why Akechi hasn't encountered any in Shido's palace. Those could be useful in the final battle.

Sakura is passed the cue, and she looks downright thrilled to play.

"I can do that," Akechi says, "as long as you don't drag it out unnecessarily."

"Cool," Morgana says, before he refocuses on the game. Sakura cheers her success and lines up for a second shot.

That's more or less the extent of the meeting they do. It's mostly billiards. Akechi keeps to the side and wonders what on earth he's doing here.

They've just accepted him back as if he never left. What kind of imbeciles-

"Not interested in showing off?" Joker asks him doubtfully. Akechi hadn't heard him approach. He eyes Joker's hands as they finish an unfamiliar movement.

Instead of an answer, he asks, "Where did you learn sign language?"

In Sae's palace, Akechi had not seen him use it once. He certainly hadn't seen it before then. Considering he'd done so while under the influence of heavy drugs, though, it must be some kind of habit. Akechi had seen unfamiliar gestures used often, in the days Joker had spent recovering.

He refuses to admit that it bothers him, Joker knowing a language he doesn't. It feels like he's losing.

Joker frowns, like he hadn't noticed he was using it, but he shrugs then. "I've worked customer service in five different places. You pick some things up."

Akechi refrains from saying that it seems more important to Joker than something he'd simply picked up.

He hadn't signed along with that particular sentence. Is it because he doesn't know the correct words, or because Akechi had made him aware of what he was doing?

Akechi reviews the instances he's seen Joker use JSL. If it's an unconscious habit, then the fact that Akechi hadn't seen it once before the arrest is cause to wonder.

A suspicion forms.

"How long, exactly," Akechi says, "have you known that I wasn't..."

He's not sure what he's planning to say, exactly.

Joker tilts his head, but obliges him. "Remember when we met at the TV station?"

Akechi pauses and narrows his eyes. Surely they're misunderstanding each other.

"We knew from then on that you were a Persona user," says Joker conversationally. "You should be more careful with your words. You acknowledged something that Mona said, about pancakes, when you shouldn't have been able to understand him."

"Excuse me?" Akechi protests. There was no way in hell they'd known since he met them.

Joker shrugs in a half-apologetic way, and Akechi believes it. He hates that he believes it.

"Why would you work with me after that?" Akechi presses. "How could you trust me?"

Even as he says it, he realizes that they never had. Not even once. Not until Akechi had a gun aimed at Joker and chose not to shoot.

You should be more careful with your words, Joker said. In apparent contrast to Akechi, Joker had always been starkly conscious of his word choice, and consequently he'd never slipped into his now-obvious habit of using sign language around Akechi.

From the beginning, Akechi had been under the impression that Joker relaxed around him.

Initially, he'd been taken aback at Joker's easy familiarity, at his audacity, but he'd figured that was just Joker's personality--aggravating at times, but something to take in stride and adjust to. That impression had lasted only until he'd seen Joker interact with another customer at Penguin Sniper.

The more Akechi saw Joker interact with others, the more he'd realized that it was just him that got the privilege of sarcasm and friendly insults. Joker was far too wary of people in general for it to be a habit. Naturally, Akechi had assumed that something or other about his demeanor put Joker at ease. If, however, every single move Joker had made was intentional...

More than ever, Akechi feels like he's lost at a game he hadn't even realized he was playing.

Yet, even so, in the past week Joker has been using sign language without a second thought. Maybe, after all of this trouble, Akechi has somehow been deemed trustworthy.

Joker says, "You're a Persona user."

That answer could be interpreted in many ways, and Akechi doesn't ask which is the truth. What a pointless endeavor that would be.

Chapter Text

On his knees on the cold metal, Akechi is sure he's going to die.

There's so much left for him to do, but in that moment, a hole through his chest and surrounded on all sides by enemies, he finds a sort of relief in the prospect. It's only right, he thinks. He can't imagine going out any other way.

His enemies seem determined to prove him wrong. Joker leaves himself open to attack in order to heal him, as if Akechi is in any way worth saving. Sentimental idiot.

It seems like he might live, after all. Movements heavy with hesitation, Akechi raises an arm to his chest. Even the bloodstain is fading quickly from his metaverse outfit.

Panther's attempt to appeal to the cognition's humanity--which is laughable--is interrupted when Joker's Persona disappears and Joker starts unloading a full magazine into the cognition that's holding Akechi hostage.

Akechi rolls away, going for his own gun while the cognition is distracted. He lands in a crouch and shoots the shadows that are trying to chase him. As if on cue, figures appear to flank him.

He turns his gun on them, and grits his teeth when he realizes it's Skull and Noir backing him up.

Why are they acting like his life is worth anything to them? Some kind of savior complex, developed over their time working as vigilantes, no doubt.

With significant effort, Akechi lowers his gun and focuses on the shadows instead of his 'teammates'.

The cognition snarls at Joker, a wild look in its eyes. "You think it'll be that easy? Persona!"

Fuck, Akechi thinks distantly, and Loki's silhouette flares to life above the cognition.

Akechi takes several steps towards the fight before he realizes his mistake.

He's wearing Robin Hood's mask, and when the cognition uses an area-of-effect curse attack, it hits.

It takes several moments and Joker yelling for Akechi to blink open his eyes and realize that he's on the floor again. His vision is swimming, but Akechi lifts his gaze stubbornly.

It's like Joker hasn't even noticed the brand new foe Akechi had gone to such lengths to ensure they were unprepared for. He's throwing himself at the cognition directly, slashing and hacking and ignoring Queen's calls for him.

For a moment--as Akechi watches Joker get thrown back by a curse attack he completely fails to defend against--Akechi thinks in a panic that Joker got caught in Loki's power.

The only skill Shido knows for sure that Akechi has is his ability to drive people berserk. Of course the cognition would have it, too. On the rare occasion that Akechi bothers to use it on the shadows guarding his victims, it heightens their offense dramatically, at the cost of all of their self-preservation.

He knows exactly what happens to the people whom he uses the ability on directly, and Joker was never supposed to be one of them.

Joker goes skidding across the metal flooring, and Akechi growls. His skin burns, a slow, creeping feeling, spreading as he forces himself to his feet. He's swaying, but he can't bring himself to care.

Shido's puppet wants a fight? Fine. It'll get one.

The blue flames burn his head last, cold steel settling over his face where there was once a proper mask. His vision is finally tinted red, as it should be.

"Come, Loki!"

Loki clashes against the poor imitation of itself with a viciousness that Akechi mimics.

He hears yells of alarm behind him, which is obnoxiously distracting, but expected. What's less expected is Ariadne and Goemon speeding past him to go support Loki.

Idiots, the lot of them, fighting for someone like him. He can't understand it. He can't understand.

"Crow, provide ranged support!" Queen orders, her voice clear and steady. "Shadow, tone it down a notch. Skull, try to stun the minions. Mona-?"

Akechi falls back into position with the Phantom Thieves like he had never tried to betray them all.

Chapter Text

There are posters plastered all over the utility area of the casino. Graffiti-like phrases litter the walls.

Success. Winner-take-all. Losing isn't an option.

When Joker first sees the neon signs blinking on and off at him from high in the casino, he thinks they read 'victory or death'.

It's uncomfortable to see himself in the features of a distorted person's Palace, even if he knows he's projecting. There are phrases like 'victory addiction' that show a clear distinction, and what the neon sign really says is 'victory or defeat'. No dying involved. That's only in his head.

It still makes him uncomfortable, and Joker can't look away.

Queen is just as disquieted seeing her sister's palace. This is not a good thing. Especially with a new member in play, they need their leader to have her head in the game.

If it was any palace, though, Joker is glad that it's this one throwing them both off. The Phantom Thieves have more members than ever with Crow's induction, and they're all good at covering each other's weak spots. Half the shadows in Makoto's sister's palace don't even get the chance to transform before they're obliterated. It's easy.

Joker has even stopped freaking out when one of his party members gets taken out. Having a Persona in his stock that can revive anyone who goes down did a lot of good for his nerves.

He's confident enough in his victory to join Oracle in teasing the newbie. Oracle is delighted. Crow's resigned expression is even better.

Crow gets them back for it eventually, of course. But that's how the game goes. Joker likes to think he's maintaining a healthy rivalry.

"Is this okay?" Oracle asks him, in a quiet moment in a safe room. Crow is all the way across the room, and still Oracle is keeping her voice down. "He's gonna betray us, isn't he? How can you still be dating him?"

Joker puts a gloved hand to his face in exasperation and debates if it's worth protesting at all. Oracle--and he's starting to think the rest of the Phantom Thieves, too--took that joke way too seriously.

"I trust him to watch our backs," he says simply, deciding to address her actual question. "What he's going to do doesn't matter right now. He's our teammate."

"If you say so," Oracle says skeptically.

"And we're not dating."

Oracle looks even more skeptical than before, so Joker gives it up.

The only time Joker actually gets worried is when Crow volun-tells Joker to go into a battle arena alone, to play by Makoto's sis' rules. Even that fear evaporates quickly. They're cheating outrageously, and they still can't land a hit on him. Joker never even gives them the chance.

That's extremely reassuring, and it leaves Joker in a good mood. Even when someone else makes and breaks the rules they play with, it's not a guaranteed loss.

Infiltrating Makoto's sister's palace might be the most relaxed Joker has been all year.

Chapter Text

Joker has been hoarding a significant amount of skill cards, and during the trip to Mementos that they make right after erasing Futaba's palace, he's surprised to discover just how many of Justine and Caroline's assignments he can complete in one go.

There's more to these assignments, that much has been made clear. The twins have mentioned multiple times that not only were the assignments not created by the Prison Master, but the Prison Master doesn't even know about them.

Anything the Prison Master doesn't know about, Joker is ravenously interested in.

That hope curdles into cold dread when the Prison Master speaks up. "Does something trouble you two? You seem to be in quite the state."

Caroline straightens immediately, placing her hands by her side, but Joker can see them trembling. Her headache hasn't gone away just because the Prison Master called for her attention.

"Our apologies," Justine says, and Akira feels like a hole has been punched through his chest when he recognizes her soft tone of voice.

It's the one he uses all the time, intentionally or not. Don't notice me. Don't look at me. I need you to think I'm nothing, because if you see me as a threat, you will hurt me.

"Is the inmate proving to be too horrible a subject for you?" The Prison Master sounds amused.

"It's not that," Caroline rejects. "The fault does not lie with him. If you scold anyone for our distraction, let it be us."

Caroline. Caroline says that. Joker hasn't seen her as a true warden for months now, her nor Justine, but he never expected her to defend him.

"Very well. Please, continue onward with his rehabilitation."

Justine prompts him to fuse again, and as always, Joker flinches at the crash of the guillotine. He's gotten used to the fusion process, but not completely. Never completely.

He refuses to avert his eyes. It's his doing. The least he can do is watch. He's done so for every fusion so far, and he's planning to keep on doing so for every fusion in the future.

Outwardly, he holds very still. The Prison Master is looking at the three of them.

He wonders if he should keep doing the assignments. They're making Justine and Caroline more aware of their situation, making them doubt their orders, but in a situation like theirs, is that the right thing to do?

The Prison Master has killed them before. He'll do it again if they get in his way. That's not something Joker wants to risk.

And yet. His attitude towards risks has changed a lot from last year.

Risk, reward. Joker still doesn't stand a chance in this game they're playing.

The twins might die again. They might help him grow stronger.

"What's my next assignment, again?" he asks Justine.

She checks her clipboard, but it's out of habit more than anything. Her eyes don't focus on anything in particular before she says, "You will deliver us a Bugs with Samarecarm."

"Don't forget it again!" Caroline tells him, hitting the bars to emphasize her point. Joker stays very still.

Bugs is too powerful for him, still. He's afraid to ask how much it would cost him to fuse it anyway. He doesn't have a Samarecarm skill card yet, either.

More to do. Always more to do.

Joker steps out of the Velvet Room to Skull still talking about what he's going to eat after this.

He's never gone longer than a few seconds, no matter how long he spends in the Velvet Room. That's good, because he can't afford to miss anything important.

"May I join you?" Fox says, when Skull mentions a third type of ramen. "I quite enjoy Hakata."

"Of course, man," Skull grins. "The more the many... Or something like that. Anyone else down for ramen?"

"Are we leaving?" Joker interjects. "We still have a lot of mana left."

Panther scoffs. "Yeah, because Mona keeps running over all the shadows. They're way too weak for us." She looks to Queen, as well, though.

"We were still getting a lot of treasure," Queen says, considering. "And we've spent our time productively. Panther, didn't you learn a new move?"

"Carmen thought of it," Panther mumbles, finding herself under their leader's piercing gaze.

"We're not going to run out of mana anytime soon," Queen says, deciding. "If everyone's bored, though, it'll affect morale. We'll have a vote. Please raise your hand if you want to leave Mementos for today."

Shadow, Panther, and Fox all raise their hand. Skull raises both his hands.

"Hey, that's cheating," Mona hisses.

Queen glances at them. "Sorry, Mona, Joker. Majority has spoken."

"I find myself lured by the ramen," Fox explains.

"Hell yeah, man." Skull offers a fist bump. Fox glances questioningly from the fist to Skull and back. Skull wilts.

"Fine," Mona says begrudgingly for the both of them.

Joker considers staying behind, but it's nothing more than a fleeting thought. Even if the other Thieves let him, he doesn't trust in his ability to survive on his own.

Maybe when Futaba defeats Medjed, another door down will open, and they can train here again. That's another, what, two weeks off? Joker remembers that the website takeover was very dramatically last minute, and he feels like that was intentional. It definitely got the Phantom Thieves more publicity.

That's a depressingly long time without training in Mementos. Maybe Fox will want to go on another painting trip.

Joker does end up getting ramen with his friends.

He almost regrets it when Ryuji asks, "What's got you looking so antsy?"

Is the inmate proving to be too horrible a subject for you?

I left her behind.

He puts his chopsticks down gently. After a second of consideration, he trades his own nearly-full bowl for Yusuke's empty one.

"Is there something you wanted to do in Mementos?" Ryuji continues. "I don't really get why you'd want to stay in that place, but we'll come with you if you have something to do, man."

"Indeed," Yusuke says. "You offered your aid before; it's only fair that I now offer mine."

Joker shakes his head, choosing his next words carefully. "I... think we could do more."

"Makoto's working us to the bone," Ryuji groans. "If you ask me, we're doing too much."

Yusuke pauses in eating his second serving to hum. "I see what you mean," he says. "You yearn for a fight. It is a form of self-expression, if you think about it."

"Dude!" It's Ryuji who shushes him, which might be hypocritical of him. Joker appreciates it either way.

He glances around to see if anyone is looking at them. Ryuji does the same.

"What is it?" Yusuke says.

"You can't say those things where others can hear them," Ryuji says. "His rep's bad enough as it is."

It feels like such a trivial thing to worry about, but Joker can't stop a spike of panic intruding whenever he attracts attention outside of the metaverse.

Attention is bad. Attention makes you a target, a scapegoat, a burden.

Joker shakes it off. He has bigger problems.

Chapter Text

Akechi idly scrolls through his messages, one hand around his mug. The coffee's heat radiates through his glove to warm his hand.

Across the counter, Boss is looking rather suspicious of him. Akechi pretends not to notice. It's not Sakura that he's here for.

Oracle: crow are u good

Oracle: akira is saying that if you don't answer he'll just break in

Oracle: im pretty sure he's for real

Oracle: quote, "i know where u live"

Oracle: not cool to ghost people after you kill a guy together, you know

Hours later, there's another message.

Oracle: cmon you could've at least stuck around for healing

Akechi hadn't taken the messages all that seriously yesterday, more than preoccupied. He does want to talk to Joker, though. He has questions, and Joker has answers.

Maybe he got here too early in the morning, but he can't help but feel like whenever Joker isn't in his immediate vicinity, they're both in danger. Joker is the reckless sort that would risk his cover being blown just to eat some curry. His cover being blown means they both die, and Akechi won't allow for that to happen.

It's only when Sakura says "Hey," that Akechi looks up and sees Joker standing at the bottom of the stairs, hesitating.

Sakura isn't talking to Akechi. He asks Joker, "Is this guy... okay? I can kick him out if you want me to."

Akechi fights to keep a light smile on his face. He will not fist fight Joker's guardian. He will not fist fight Joker's guardian. He will not fist fight Joker's guardian.

After a moment of hesitation, Joker tells Sakura, "It's fine."

Sakura raises an eyebrow. "Really? Isn't he the reason why you went missing?" He scolds, "Futaba was depressed, you know."

"Sorry," Joker says. "It's fine now, I promise."

Joker is a liar.

Sakura hums. Before he retreats to the kitchen to finish today's curry, he mentions, "That physician came by a few days ago. She was looking for you. You've made a lot of people worried about you, kid."

It's early enough in the morning that the café is empty except for the two of them. Still, Sakura is in earshot, and even if he wasn't, Akechi knows now that they can't speak freely.

He side-eyes Joker as he also takes a seat at the counter. There's a line of tension in his shoulders, but that's nothing new.

It seems so long ago, their duel in Mementos, even though it's been less than two weeks. Akechi recalls the way Joker had looked at him, and how off-balance he'd seemed when Akechi had said, "I envy you."

He'd meant it. He always ends up speaking his mind when it's Joker. It's a problem.

He'd said, "The effortless way you seem to gather people around you, the deft handling of your unfortunate circumstances... I could hate you for it."

Joker had replied, "You don't, though."

Akechi is just as much of a liar. He was never truly under the impression that he could hate Joker, even if he tried. Hate Joker? Impossible. He doesn't even know Joker.

Now more than ever, Akechi can feel the gap between the two of them. The silence falls heavier, and Joker feels out of his reach.

"You're not just here for coffee," Joker says finally.

"What gave you that impression?" His tone is light, but the sarcasm is implied.

Joker says, "You ran out of healing items days ago. Why wouldn't you let us help?"

Oh, they're going there, are they?

"If I need help, I'll ask for it," Akechi says pointedly.

It doesn't seem like Joker gets his meaning immediately, so, sharper, Akechi says, "You told me I could, and I intend to keep you to that."

What he means is, I answered your distress call. You owe me more information.

Joker says, "I'll do what I can."

Akechi's lip curls slightly at that. Implying he can't say much? Or does he mean that he's not willing to take the risk?

"Do you know much about the history of radio?" Akechi asks casually, like he's introducing a brand new topic.

"Not particularly," Joker says, but he's wary.

"Oh, I was just wondering if you knew Morse--although depending your means, I suppose it could be associated with visual mediums instead." Akechi gives a sheepish chuckle at his apparent misstep.

"I know enough that I can't imagine it being useful." Joker blocks off his line of inquiry, no new hints left to fill in the gaps.

Is the third party listening to them, watching them, monitoring them? Is it just Joker under surveillance, or is it broader than that? Is Akechi somehow the problem--is he the one being monitored?

What is so powerful that Joker can't speak of it, even in the metaverse? It seems impossible.

Sakura sticks his head out of the kitchen corner. Baffled, he asks, "Do you two not have more important things to talk about than radios, or whatever? If you're friends again, that's great, but you're still up against the future Prime Minister, you know."

Joker lets out an overly dramatic sigh. He's hamming it up for Sakura, but Akechi detects some real exhaustion behind it, too. "I remember, don't worry."

"It's a valid concern," Akechi can't help but point out, "since you were walking around with an untreated head injury for the better part of a week."

"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" Joker huffs.

"If you're implying I had anything to do with your head injury, it's more serious than I'd assumed. You weren't even supposed to be there."

Akechi can't decide if he wants to make light of it or not, and it shows.

There's no way Joker is simply being reticent. Akechi hadn't always been a detective--he wasn't even one when the title was bestowed upon him--but when thrust into situations that needed him to be something he wasn't, he learned fast. Joker, for some godforsaken reason, trusts him. He's not intentionally holding back information. He's afraid.

What could make Joker, of all people, this fearful?

The unknown, Akechi thinks. The unknown is the source of most fear. Maybe Joker doesn't know how he's being watched, only that he is. That's why he can't figure out a way around it--why he's not even trying.

The way he phrased some of his hints, and some of the things he said while under the influence of truth serum... Joker knows who is watching him, and why. Something is pulling his strings, perhaps something not even connected to Shido's conspiracy.

Akechi resolves to do independent research after they ruin Shido's life. He can start by finding those twins.

Chapter Text

"Fuckin' Yamauchi," Ryuji grumbles.

Behind the counter at Leblanc, Akira pours him a soda. He doesn't verbally agree with Ryuji, probably 'cause Ryuji's complained about the same thing so many times. There's nothing new to say, but Ryuji can't help it.

Monamona wandered off, so it's just the three of them in Leblanc, manning the otherwise empty café. Shiho has been filled in already. She just nods. Ryuji notices that she looks kind of miserable, her water abandoned to the side. The ice cubes have almost melted.

Shiho clasps her hands together on the table. "Do you think Shujin ever does background checks?"

"They do," Akira says, as he puts the glass in front of Ryuji and sits down next to him.

Shiho's lips quirk into a humorless smile. "On the staff, I mean. The new PE teacher, Megure? He..."

When her words die, Ryuji growls at the implications. "Did he do something?" He'll change that bastard's heart no hesitation. The volleyball team has already had more than enough bullshit dumped on them.

"No," Shiho says. "Not yet."

Ryuji doesn't get it, but Akira nods, setting down his own cup--steaming hot coffee, even in weather like this. "He's hard to predict."

He uses the sign for 'know' there. Ryuji may be stupid, but even he's starting to pick up a little JSL from Akira's casual usage. He's pretty proud of that.

Shiho sighs. "What if he's like Yamauchi? Or like..."

They all know she means Kamoshida, but when she doesn't say his name, Akira redirects. "I'll put him on my shit list."

Even when Akira curses, it's in such a mild tone and volume that Ryuji fails to realize for a good few seconds. His reaction is delayed when he responds, "Dude, you have a shit list?"

"Sure," Akira says. "More than one. Shujin's is the longest."

That makes a terrible amount of sense. Ryuji replies with a bitter chuckle. Akira's been here for, what, two months? Less than that? And he already knows exactly what to expect from Shujin, after the bullshit he went through. He deserves better. They all do.

In the background, the café TV drones on.

"Are you going to do anything about Yamauchi?" Shiho asks.

"Nah, it's not my place to butt in." Even as he says it, it feels wrong. "They can handle themselves."

Ryuji doesn't manage to convince himself, but Shiho seems to accept it, so that's something.

Akira hums, leaning with his elbows on the counter and resting his head on interlaced fingers. In the back of his mind, Ryuji notes that he looks tired, though it could just as easily be the early summer heat getting to him as actual exhaustion.

"I don't know how you can stand it," he blurts out. When Akira looks at him, confused and a little alarmed, Ryuji explains, "The coffee. It's boiling in here, man, what superpower lets you drink hot drinks in this kinda weather?"

He sees Shiho smile into her water in the corner of his eye, but his attention is pulled away when Akira replies, "Maybe you just don't appreciate coffee enough."

Akira is smiling, a slight quirk of his lips half-hidden by his mug. Ryuji absolutely beams back, feeling a lot better about himself than he did a moment ago in a way he can't explain to himself.

Even while he argues that Akira is just a coffee freak, his grin stays.

Chapter Text

Akira really dislikes fireworks. He's almost glad when it starts raining and the rest of the fireworks show is canceled.

Futaba had wanted to come here, though. He hopes she still had fun.

He's waiting at the place in the station they arranged when Futaba approaches. He's not at all surprised to see her with the entire group of Phantom Thieves, when only Takamaki and the school council president had picked her up before.

She looks comfortable with them, even having taken the mask off at some point. He's glad for her.

They don't look surprised to see him either. Sakamoto grins and gives him a wave.

"Too bad about the rain," he says to his group. "We'll make it up, okay? We'll just celebrate again somewhere else!"

His enthusiasm is infectious, and Akira smiles. They look better. They definitely look less stressed, as a group, than before Futaba joined them.

Futaba crosses the last few meters between them alone, and clutches Akira's arm immediately.

"Bye," she says to her friends, before pulling him along to their platform. "Come on, I want to be home already."

"You had fun, though?" Akira asks.

Futaba fiddles with her bag and puts on the mask before she answers him. "... Yeah."

The train ride home goes as well as can be expected when they're all crammed in like sardines. It's worse than usual. Everyone is going home at the same time due to the downpour.

Futaba is still tense from the train ride when they step into Leblanc, and immediately she goes three times as tense.

Boss is sitting at one of the booths with an expression Akira does not like.

Akira doesn't immediately recognize the back of the card he holds up. He really should have.

Futaba certainly does.

"I was cleaning up and I found this. What is this?" Sojiro says. It's not a question, but it's not quite a demand either.

"You," Futaba stammers, "You went into my room without my permission?"

She sounds hurt more than she sounds scared. Good.

Futaba trusts Sojiro, Akira reminds himself, before he even realizes what the man is holding.

It's a calling card. One of the Phantom Thieves'.

"I'll apologize as much as you want later," Boss says. "Explain to me what this is."

Futaba is almost vibrating in front of him. Akira wonders if he should say something.

"That..." she says quietly.

"It's not some game you were playing, is it?" Boss says, when she doesn't speak any more. "Tell me, is this a 'real' one? Was a change of heart triggered in you?"

Akira jolts at that, and it's a good thing Boss and Futaba are too focused on each other because neither sees the shocked way he glances at Futaba.

Futaba is not a Phantom Thief... but one of their targets?

She's shaking. She's terrified.

Akira steps up next to her, and tries to lift his voice to a normal speaking volume. He needs this to be heard. "Don't blame Futaba. I'm the one you should be mad at."

The exact same incredulous gaze hits him from two directions. Quick, Akira, make shit up.

"She was okay with it," he says, because that's one thing he's sure of. "But we're the ones who took action."

He refuses to shrink away at Boss' angry look. It's Futaba. There's a chance he won't report it if it actually helped Futaba. Please, Akira prays, don't report it.

"That's right," Futaba stammers, forcing herself to look back towards Boss. "I... I asked for them to change my heart. I couldn't take it... After..."

Akira is highly alarmed to see that she's crying. She starts talking through the sobs, stuttering her words.

"After mom died, I couldn't... I was stuck, I couldn't get out by myself. I knew I needed something else..."

Sojiro sighs, looking pained. "I'll listen. Come on, just sit down."

Akira's heart is pounding, but he thinks he keeps a straight face as he nudges Futaba towards the booth. He needs this to work. He needs Sojiro to be sympathetic.

They're sitting down before Futaba takes a deep breath, fails to stop crying, and goes on anyway. "I asked them to change my messed up heart. It's just like mom's research! They changed my cognition."

Just like her mom's research?

Akira looks at Boss to see if he knows what Futaba is on about, but Boss just looks resigned.

"I had wondered," he says. "It seemed awfully familiar, but to think Wakaba's research from all the way back then... That it's connected to the Phantom Thieves stealing hearts..."

He looks directly at Akira, and Akira is tense all over to prevent himself from flinching or giving anything away.

"And you're saying... This was your call?" he asks. "Do you mean to imply that you're one of these Phantom Thieves? After everything I warned you about?"

"That's right," Akira says hoarsely.

"You're pulling my leg," Boss says. It's not a suggestion, it's a demand.

"No," Akira says.

Futaba takes a deep breath, and her voice wavers, but she's not actively sobbing anymore. She says, "I'm a Phantom Thief, too."

Akira can't tell if he was right the first time, then, or if Futaba is trying to cover for him in turn.

"Of course you're a Phantom Thief," Boss says, somewhere between disgusted and exhausted. "He's a Phantom Thief, you're a Phantom Thief, who's next? The delivery guy?"

Futaba balls her fists. "I am, and I'm not going to stop, no matter what you say. I need to find the people who killed mom."

"The what?" Boss stares at Futaba. Akira concurs. What on earth did he just implicate himself in? There's a conspiracy now?

"Didn't you say it yourself? The way she died wasn't normal," Futaba snaps. "People were trying to steal her research. She didn't kill herself. The suicide was staged. I remember it all now."

Boss shakes his head in disbelief as Akira tries to keep a straight face. He's officially lost.

"I can't believe this," Boss says. It sounds a little too real.

Akira says, "It's true. You were lied to."

He has no idea what he's talking about, but he's involved himself and he's damn well going to back Futaba up here. No matter how much his hands are sweating and his head is spinning.

He can't go back into the system. But he can't back down, either. He has to see this through.

"Mom's death was not my fault," Futaba says, crying, and Akira's heart stutters a beat.

Even Boss looks taken aback by those words, pausing. When he speaks, it's careful. "Futaba... I know that." He shakes his head. "Even if Wakaba was killed..."

He sighs. "Well, maybe she was. She did tell me..." He shakes his head again. "It doesn't matter. Promise me, Futaba, that you'll be careful. If this is true, the people you're trying to find are extremely dangerous."

"I know that," Futaba says, almost offended. "I don't even join in on fights. I've never gotten hurt."

Boss does a double take, looking between them. "You're fighting people? I thought you were thieves!"

Futaba shrinks in on herself. "I'm not," she mutters.

"She's not," Akira confirms. Privately, he wonders how she's getting through the Metaverse without fighting at all.

Boss a longer look at him and scoffs. "You look like I'm going to eat you. If Futaba is really involved... Of course I won't report you. No one would believe a story like this either way."

Akira holds his breath. "Really?"

"Don't make me reconsider," Boss grumbles. "Look, just promise me that if there's a fight you can't win, you back out immediately."

"Promise," Akira says quickly. He feels about ready to pass out. That was the most stressful conversation of his life, including the conversation he got charged with assault for.

Boss looks dubious, but he doesn't ask again.

"Futaba," he says, "You'll tell me if you do get hurt, won't you?"

Futaba nods fervently. Her eyes are red-ringed, but she looks hopeful.

"I'm too old for this," Boss mutters. "Fine. I won't keep asking, but I trust you kids to tell me if something big happens."

"Of course," Futaba says.

"Let's go get you out of those wet clothes."

She follows Boss as he locks up the cafe, but before they go home together she throws a look at Akira that says they're not done talking about this.

That's fine. Akira is exhausted, but he's not panicking anymore. He can take difficult conversations if they're not with authority figures.

Alibaba: wtf guys does the guy in my dad's attic know about the phantom thieves??

Ann: Does who?

Alibaba: you know, akira! he's the guy that took me home

Alibaba: and then fcking sojiro pulled out a calling card he STOLE from my room and accused me of it being real and akira covered for me??? straight up said i wasn't a phantom thief, he was

Alibaba: sojiro knows everything now but he's not going to tell don't worry

Yusuke: I am worried. You kept the calling card?

Alibaba: of course i did!!

Ryuji: Oh Kurusu! Yeah he's cool

Ryuji: Sorry should've told ya

Ann: ohhh my god I totally forgot

Ann: I guess he knows who we are because we hang out in a group all the time...

Ann: Morgana told me to say "I told you so!"

Ryuji: Shut up Mona

Ryuji: I kinda figured you knew cause you know

Ryuji: You came to the festival wearing his mask and all

Alibaba: ???? ???

Ryuji: Kurusu got a Persona way back before even I did. We got stuck in Kamoshitass' castle together

Ryuji: He's on probation though you know? Couldn't risk coming home with injuries like the ones we were getting

Ryuji: So he ducked out

Ryuji: That mask you had looked like the one he had in the metaverse, I thought it was cute

Ann: Oh, that is kinda cute

Makoto: You didn't think to tell us this?

Ann: It wasn't really relevant until now...

Yusuke: Are you quite sure your guardian isn't going to go to the police?

Alibaba: 100%

Alibaba: he knew mom's death wasn't normal. and he trusts me

Alibaba: so gonna interrogate akira tho

Makoto: I wonder why he would turn down being a Phantom Thief because of his probation, but then claim that title to his guardian...? That seems odd.

Alibaba: i think it was a spur of the moment

Alibaba: *thing

Alibaba: you shoudve seen him i think he was having a panic attack

Ryuji: Ah

Alibaba: no idea how he convinced sojiro it was so obvious

Ann: That's rough...

Yusuke: I would not recommend interrogating him about it.

Yusuke: Could you ask him, though, whether he'd be interested in modeling for me?

Ann: Yusuke,

Yusuke: I wonder what he looks like in the metaverse.

Alibaba: ew stop that's my surrogate brother you're fantasizing about

Ryuji: Not that cool, actually

Ryuji: I look way better

Ann: Morgana disagrees

Ann: Loudly.

Yusuke: I would take your word over these two heathens, Ann.

Ann: You're out of luck, I've never seen him in the metaverse. I said I wanted to go after Kamoshida, he just handed me a gun and said "go wild" and dipped

Alibaba: omg

Ryuji: Not how that happened

Ryuji: It was a model gun

Futaba doesn't bring it up to him right away. Akira figures she's probably doing independent research.

He checks his room for bugs again. Just to be safe.

Unknown: ive been hearing stories

Unknown: did you rlly give ann a gun to shoot kamoshida with and dip

Akira: greatly exaggerated

Akira: it was a model gun

Chapter Text

Akechi's apartment sucks. Full offense intended.

The main room, which is a living space and a kitchen only separated by a counter, is painfully empty. As soon as Akira is recovered enough to not be able to immediately fall back asleep, he gets bored.

His resolve to avoid Akechi's bedroom for the sake of his privacy lasts only until Akira remembers that, in the last week, Akechi has held him at gunpoint twice over. He immediately becomes less considerate.

Since Akechi didn't actually shoot him, Akira won't hold it against him... Unless it's to be petty.

At first glance, Akechi's bedroom looks just as empty as the rest of his apartment. Akira feels like he's in the best position to judge Akechi for this, because however empty his own attic room is, at least it has some character. A plant, a couple of crane game dolls on display. He's working on it.

Akechi is clearly not putting that kind of effort in.

Maybe that's unfair. In the living room, there's a small row of books across the spine of the couch that Akira could swear have not been there the whole time he's been here. Then again, his memory of the past few days isn't the most reliable.

It's a nice gesture, if they were placed there for him. It lets Akira determine that however restless he feels, he's still not healed. When he can follow along with a story for longer than a paragraph, he'll reconsider how much he's recovered. As it is, reading anything at all is a big feat for him, and it leaves him exhausted.

Not that he's ever not exhausted, nowadays. Akira can't remember if this was the norm for him before he was drugged and beaten up. He hopes it wasn't. It probably wasn't.

Akechi's bedroom has a bed, a dresser, and curtains.

It takes maybe a few more minutes, which is several days longer than it should have, for Akira to realize that these sparse items aren't enough to live off. The bathroom probably has more stuff. Akira has been in there--he's pretty sure he even took a shower at one point--but he wasn't exactly playing detective.

The instant Akira enters the bathroom, he determines it looks better. Maybe just because it's more cramped than every other room, so it looks less empty.

Aside from the typical necessities, Akira does find a few treasure troves. Akechi has a first aid kit that it looks brand new--no, there are two first aid kits, in fact, in various stages of usage. That probably would've been good to know a few days ago.

Akechi has some seriously fancy hair products, and several more bottles that aren't as immediately clear on their content. Akira can't focus enough to read the small lettering. He assumes they're just as fancy.

Akechi has an actual triple-layered box of make-up. It takes Akira several tries to unfold it. Pointlessly complicated, very fancy.

It's just foundation, contouring, and other skin-coloured products. Disappointing. He should've expected that.

It does spark a possibility in his mind. He's not sure yet how it connects to anything else, but his brain will get around to telling him eventually. Probably.

Akira puts everything in its proper place and wanders back to Akechi's main offense: the kitchen.

Seriously, what does this guy eat? Well, the answer is right in front of him, Akira just doesn't want to believe it. Surely he always eats out or something, and the microwave meals are for Akira's sake? Surely.

For some reason, Akira doesn't think Akechi is taking the time to eat out.

This needs to be rectified, somehow.

There are other priorities, Akira knows vaguely, but he's trying not to think about it. He can't do much right now. He should focus on what he can do, or he'll have another panic attack.

The kitchen situation feels like something he can help with. He just hasn't thought of how yet.

The longest part of the process is covering his stark purple and blue bruises.

Akira'd already stolen Akechi's clothes days ago to change out of his uniform--he assumes. It could also be that Akechi left them out for him. He really can't remember.

All Akira had to do after that was dig around for a winter hat to cover his hair with, and leave his glasses on the counter. He's pretty sure not even any of his friends would recognize him at this point, much less Shido's people.

Oh, and he also pickpocketed Akechi--no more than two hours ago, and in fact probably less than half an hour ago, Akira is still working on perceiving time--when he came home today for some kind of meal. Akira was dismayed to realize that he does, actually, eat those microwave meals. Akechi didn't care at all about his judgemental stare.

He will care.

It's... surprisingly cold, outside. Akira immediately goes back inside to steal an extra sweater. How late in November is it, exactly? It is still November, right? It has to be. He can't have lost that much time.

He's not worrying about it. He'll do what he can until he can read full sentences again.

... Maybe he'll ask a store employee.

On the fourth day of infiltrating Shido's Palace, Akechi comes home pissed, exhausted, and injured. That's nothing new. His condition is just getting slightly worse for him with each fight that forces him out of the Palace to sleep.

He thinks he's prepared to face Joker again. He's not.

When he can't find his keys at the apartment door, Akechi is almost too exhausted to find the shame he'd normally associate with asking to be let into his own apartment. What little of it he does find, he pushes away. He's just lucky there's someone inside.

He knocks.

He thinks he hears some sort of acknowledgement from inside, which in itself is impressive. Joker hasn't raised his voice above his regular speaking volume--barely audible--since the police interrogation.

Joker opens the door for him and hands him his keys.

Akechi stares at them, sitting in his hand like they'd never left. Surely he hadn't left them at home. In what case would he even have taken them out-

Joker.

Akechi looks up and narrows his eyes. Joker is already back in the living room, but there's something distinctly off about his profile. Also, he'd stolen Akechi's keys.

The smell of curry that he'd assumed was coming from one of his neighbors has gotten stronger.

"Joker," Akechi says sweetly, stepping into his apartment. "What the hell is this?"

"I got you groceries," Joker says, like it's self-evident. He checks on the curry, then turns back to Akechi. "Your pantry was really sad."

Akechi closes the door behind him and glares at Joker.

Joker's face is absent of both glasses and bruising, and it takes Akechi a moment to realize he must've dug out Akechi's make-up supplies. It's well done. As Akechi steps closer, he's even willing to call it expertly applied.

"I see you at least made some effort to go unrecognized," he says stiffly. "Tell me, were the groceries worth risking both of our lives?"

"Give me ten minutes and find out for yourself," Joker says with a completely straight face, waving a hand at the curry pot.

Akechi is sure he did not have that pot before. How many trips had it taken-

Something suddenly becomes blindingly obvious. "Joker." Akechi takes a deep breath, holds it, and releases it. "Did you rob me, or the grocery store."

Joker looks at him like he's an idiot. "You, obviously."

Akechi checks the inside pocket he keeps his wallet in. Joker points at the coffee table, where it's sitting out in the open air.

"Did you pickpocket me?" Akechi asks, in disbelief. He almost forgets to be angry. "Twice?"

Joker stirs the curry and doesn't dignify that with an answer.

"Did you know it's only the 25th?" he asks instead, with some wonder.

Akechi lets out a long breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. He mutters, "I should've shot you when I had the chance."

He snatches his wallet off the coffee table with prejudice, and puts it in a different pocket.

It's not like he ever has to take it out while at his apartment. How did Joker know which pocket-

That way lies madness. He can question Joker's actions when he's not totally drained.

That's what he's been telling himself for almost a week now. It's still true. He's getting closer to reaching Shido's Shadow. This will end, one way or another.

"Do not," Akechi hisses, "go out again. Understand?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "I don't think you're grasping the situation. Your life is in danger."

"As it always is," Joker says, unaffected. "It's done."

Akechi watches him serve curry with rice, and tries not to respond impulsively.

That's what Joker wants, to get a reaction out of him. It must be, because the idea that Joker, of all people, has this kind of disregard for his own life is ridiculous.

Akechi pulls a blanket of calm over himself. It's practiced. It's easy when he thinks of Joker as his enemy, rather than as someone who is supposed to cooperate with him for both of their sakes.

That's an unpleasant realization. Not because he's unwilling to treat Joker as an enemy--it's the opposite.

Joker isn't just able to rile him up like nobody else can, he has been able to do that for months now. When, exactly, had Akechi stopped seeing him as the enemy?

His hands automatically accept the plate Joker holds out to him.

"You seem to be doing better," Akechi says, with little inflection.

It wasn't a question, so when Joker gives a vague hum, Akechi can't complain.

Right. As if 'can't' has ever been in his dictionary. He adopts a tone of scorn. "Or is talking too difficult for you?"

Joker takes a plate of his own. "Your point? Get to it."

There's more life in his voice than there has been so far. Akechi wishes he could appreciate it.

He clenches his teeth against a biting remark, and follows Joker to the couch. His bruised ribs complain about him restarting movement. "It's time you tell me what I've been missing."

Joker gives him a look. "Isn't that my line?"

"Don't take me for a fool," Akechi says, words too sharp. "You've been conspiring with people or creatures out of my purview entirely. You have your own agenda, and it's separate from that of the Phantom Thieves, isn't it?"

Joker sits up straighter at that, putting down his spoon. Instead of any answers, he asks, "Have you heard anything from them?"

"Of course not," Akechi says, scornful. "They're panicking and without any leads. Why would they contact me?"

That gets him a frown. An open display of concern. Something of note when it's Joker, to be sure, but incredibly aggravating when he's so careless with their own lives.

And Joker takes another bite of curry before he even says, "They don't have the leads you do?"

Akechi purses his lips. Joker is fishing for information in a pathetically obvious manner.

"Let's make a deal," Akechi offers. Joker focuses on him fully, as Akechi suspected he would. "I'll keep both of our sorry hides out of my benefactor's line of fire if you agree to cooperate with me. I should know what I'm dealing with if I am to protect you from it."

Joker stares at him for a second, as if he's said something completely incomprehensible. Akechi makes a concentrated effort not to get defensive under that gaze.

He means it, thank you very much. Joker should know by now that Akechi's life is irreparably tied to his own. If he doesn't realize that much, his state of recovery is much worse than Akechi currently believes it to be, and this whole investigation is a waste of his time.

Finally, Joker says, "Eat your curry. It'll get cold."

"Damn it, Joker, I'm being serious here," Akechi hisses.

"So am I," Joker says. "It'd be a waste of good curry."

Akechi is pissed, injured, and exhausted. He's been led on a wild goose chase for most of the day with no result. He still has two major fights before he can even challenge Shido's Shadow at all, and by the difficulty level of the Palace so far, Akechi isn't confident he'll win that fight.

He eats the curry.

"Your benefactor," Joker says, when he's done eating.

"What about him," Akechi says curtly.

"You're not planning on hiding from him forever, are you?"

A familiar boiling rage tries to rise in Akechi's chest, but it can't find purchase when he reads no accusation in Joker's tone and expression. It's a question, bordering on an expectation.

Maybe Joker does care about his own life, after all. Good.

"I'm not hiding," Akechi says. "Everything he holds dear will crash and burn, and I will make sure to be there to see it."

Akechi has long since lost the anger in those words, buried somewhere beneath the surface. His voice is even, without inflection.

It was nothing but a promise to himself for too long, but not anymore. It's their only option.

Chapter Text

Akira is almost calm when he and Futaba get back from the school festival and Sojiro waves a familiar card at them.

This is one of the few things that he knows for sure will be okay. Boss is a good person. The anger in his tone is still enough to make Akira's breath hitch and his heart rate skyrocket.

He's used to dealing with that by now. He's used to hiding it.

Akira's confidence in Boss carries him through nearly the whole conversation. It goes so well that he isn't prepared for Boss' last request.

"Promise me that you'll immediately back out of a fight that you can't win."

He's looking right at Akira, and Akira's throat dries up as he chokes on what he wants to say.

It was such an easy thing to promise, when Boss first asked him. He hadn't thought anything of it. He forgot it was something that was said at all.

Back then, Akira had been lying about being a Phantom Thief in order to support Futaba. Why would he give a second thought to making a promise like that? 'Don't get into a fight you can't win.'

He broke it. He only realizes now, with a sinking dread, that he broke this promise once already. He can't bring himself to make it again.

Akira is a liar. Maybe if he'd remembered this promise, maybe if he was on guard for it, he could've said what Boss wanted to hear. He strings together lies every day, more with every word, just to stay alive. It should be simple.

A fight he can't win.

"What're you so quiet for?" Sojiro asks. "This isn't optional. I won't have Futaba working with people that are careless with her."

"Sojiro!" Futaba protests, indignant.

Akira can't look at her. He stares at the tabletop and thinks of Futaba's corpse--the one closest to his cell. Her head wound, the blood where shattered glass from her glasses hit her face, her glazed eyes, her dirty clothes. All the details that had engrained themselves into his head in the mere half second he could bring himself to look.

A fight he can't win.

"I can make my own decisions," Futaba says, her words spilling out in a hurry. "I promise I won't get into a fight I have no chance of winning."

Sojiro considers this for a moment before he sighs, pats her hand where it's lying on the table. "Alright. I won't ask any more of you."

Akira swallows. He looks up as Boss stands.

"I'll get started on dinner," Boss says, and his voice has lost the hard edge. It's just resigned now. Maybe a little sad.

Akira looks at him and sees Futaba's corpse.

Arsene croons along with the anger it sparks. There's familiar nausea and horror too, but above that all Akira's anger rages. It's the exact same storm that had him pulling his dagger on a false god many times his size.

He clenches his fists and looks away. Sojiro hasn't done anything wrong, and this anger doesn't belong here.

A few days ago was the first time Akira looked at the Prison Master and thought, 'I could kill him.' That conviction has faded by now, but the intent remains.

Soon. Soon, soon, soon. Everything he's done up until now has been to ensure that it's a fight he can win.

"Akira?" Futaba asks. He turns his head.

"There's no fight we can't win," Akira tells her, his words near silent. "I'm going to make sure of it."

Futaba's eyes are still red and puffy, but her attention is completely focused on him. "Okay," she says, just as quietly.

Chapter Text

"Really, what are you planning?" Morgana asks. "We don't have anything to do here, right?"

"I'm curious," Joker says under his breath. "Kosei is famous. Don't you think there could be someone like Kamoshida here?"

He's thought this through.

"Well... Maybe..." Morgana says doubtfully. "But we don't even know anyone here. How would you find out?"

Joker hasn't seen Madarame's pupil yet, and he's been watching since the end of classes. Kosei lets out half an hour later than Shujin, so he shouldn't have missed anyone leaving.

He's just starting to think that maybe Madarame's pupil left through another exit when he spots a familiar head of hair coming out of the school doors. Jackpot.

Joker times it so he falls into step with his target the moment they step out of the school gates. "Hey."

Madarame's pupil looks up, startled. "My apologies, I hadn't heard you coming. Did you want something from me?"

He studies Joker in a way that makes him feel uncomfortably seen.

"I'm with my school's newspaper club," Joker says. "I wanted to ask, what's it like at Kosei? Do you have some time?"

He keeps an even pace next to Madarame's pupil. He's had a lot of time to practice being unthreatening and meek, and stopping in the middle of the street to have this talk would only make it more noteworthy.

"What's your name?" Madarame's pupil asks abruptly.

"Akira Kurusu, from Shujin Academy," Joker introduces himself.

Madarame's pupil nods to himself, coming to a stop to face Joker fully. "I will tell you anything you want to know about Kosei, if you agree to be the model for my next art piece."

Joker's brain screeches to a halt.

"Model...?"

"Indeed." Madarame's pupil strikes a dramatic pose. "It may be presumptuous of me, but your bold yet quiet visage... It may be exactly what I need for my next project."

"Hmm," Morgana says, while Joker is still stupefied. "This guy's weird, but... That's how artists are, right? You may be able to learn something from the way he views the world. I'd go along with it."

Joker clears his throat slightly. "Well... What's your name?"

"Ah, where are my manners," Madarame's pupil says, finally dropping the dramatic pose. "My name is Yusuke Kitagawa. I'm a second year, and I study under the master artist Madarame. I am currently in residence with him."

"I see," Joker says. Honestly, he'd been prepared to introduce Ann to Kitagawa if the interview angle hadn't worked out, but this works too. Him, a model, though?

"I'd be glad to," he says. "Anything for the club, right? When are you available?"

"Next week is the opening of Sensei's new exhibit," Kitagawa says. "I'm still busy with a project, but it'll be finished by the end of this week. I'd appreciate starting as soon as possible. Would Monday work for you?"

Joker's mind stutters over connecting those pieces of information. Plagiarism, he remembers. Madarame's students were creating works of his art that he'd claim for himself, which is how he'd gathered a reputation as a master of various styles.

He hadn't gotten angry about it before. At most, seeing it on the news, he'd felt sympathy. But the dark circles under Kitagawa's eyes, his urgency, his pallor.

An injustice, Arsene says in the back of his mind. Eradicate it from this world.

Joker pretends to check his phone to tear his eyes away, lest he get caught glaring. "Monday works," he agrees.

He holds his hand out for Kitagawa's phone. Kitagawa studies it for a moment, puzzled, before taking it for a handshake.

Joker blinks. "... I'll put my number in your phone. Message me about where and what time you want to meet."

"Of course," Kitagawa says, taking out his own phone.

Joker is way too used to his friends being able to read him, without him having to say anything. He has the feeling that his voice is going to be a lot more necessary while spending time with Kitagawa.

They watch Nakanohara disappear into nothing. Panther steps forward to grab the glowing item he left behind. "What's this...?"

She looks at Mona, but Mona is deep in thought. "Madarame... Joker, haven't we heard that name before?"

Joker nods. "The student from Kosei," he reminds Mona.

"Right!" Mona says, perking up. "He asked you to model for him, right? You should ask him about this Madarame figure while you're there."

Skull gapes. "Dude, you're modeling?"

"It wasn't my idea," Joker mutters.

Shadow laughs behind her hand. "It suits you. You have that same kind of air Ann does. Right, Ann?"

"Codenames!" Mona reminds her.

"Right," Panther says. She tells Joker, "If you want, I can introduce you to my agent."

"That's not necessary," Joker says quickly.

Panther smiles. "Either way, if you have an in with someone who knows what Nakanohara was talking about, definitely take it. Maybe it'll turn out to be important."

Joker nods. He was going to do that anyway, but getting an official mission from their leader settles his mind.

Kitagawa guides him through the atelier with no fanfare.

"Sensei is currently out," he explains. "He is often busy, as his status demands. Despite this, he still takes time to guide my brush any time he is home."

"Do you think this really is the same guy as Nakanohara's shadow was talking about?" Morgana whispers.

Kitagawa glances at Joker's schoolbag at the noise. "Sensei doesn't usually let animals in the atelier... Yet, the contrast between pet and master paints a striking image. Do you think he can sit still long enough to be drawn?"

Joker looks at Morgana.

"I will be an amazing model," Morgana brags. "And I'm not a pet!"

"He does tricks," Joker tells Kitagawa.

Morgana turns a betrayed look on him. "I do not! Although, I suppose, if it'll help the mission..." He trails off into mutters.

"He's very loud," Kitagawa comments. There's not much inflection to it, so Joker can only hope he doesn't mean it negatively.

Kitagawa doesn't need any setup. His whole room seems designed for painting, and he only picks out a pencil size before directing Joker where to sit.

He's not very good at clear and concise instructions, and it doesn't help that Joker has absolutely zero modeling experience. It takes a while.

When Kitagawa deems Joker's position satisfactory, he hovers next to Morgana. "May I handle him?"

Joker looks at Morgana, and Morgana lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Fine."

Joker nods at Kitagawa. Morgana lets himself be picked up, though he looks grumpy about it.

"He's very soft," Kitagawa observes.

"Of course I am," Morgana says haughtily. "I wash myself every day, you know."

When Kitagawa starts circling him, it takes immense effort for Joker not to turn his head. He doesn't like people looking at him, and he likes it even less when he can't watch them back.

Modeling was a terrible idea. He recognizes that.

Kitagawa holds Morgana until Morgana starts complaining. At that point, he pulls up another pseudo-seat for Morgana, putting him right next to Joker.

"I don't get it," Morgana says. "If we're not gonna sit together, couldn't he draw us separately? Well, it's the artist's eye, I suppose..."

"Quiet," Kitagawa says, not unkindly. In his surprise, Morgana does shut up. Kitagawa just turns back to his canvas like nothing unusual happened.

Another point that both Morgana's and Ann's encouragements overlooked: Joker is not good at initiating conversations. Especially about a sensitive topic, and with someone he knows just barely enough about to be wary of hurting.

A good ten minutes pass before Morgana stage whispers, "Are you just gonna sit there?"

Joker glances at him.

"Say something!" Morgana tells him. "Anything. Like, I don't know, tell him you like his... hair? Or whatever."

Kitagawa leans back and looks at the canvas in consideration. He's already done a lot, although what, exactly, Joker can't see.

Without warning, Kitagawa walks over to a bag thrown carelessly to the side. He rummages through it for a moment, and pulls out something with colorful plastic packaging.

Kitagawa crouches in front of Morgana. "If you sit still, with your head turned that way, you get one of these."

He's dead serious about it, like he knows Morgana can understand him.

"So he was planning this all along?" Morgana says, shocked. "Well... I guess I don't have a choice."

Morgana isn't nearly as reluctant as he acts to receive a cat treat.

"Very good," Kitagawa praises. He returns to his canvas.

Joker sees his chance. "You like cats?"

Kitagawa doesn't respond. He gives no indication that he heard Joker at all.

It's true that Joker's voice is quiet on the best of days. Still. It's definitely not quiet enough to go unnoticed in the silence of the atelier.

Joker exchanges a glance with Mona. Mona gives him a you-tried shrug.

"Hm," Kitagawa says eventually, staring intently at the canvas. "Kurusu... Would you mind taking off your glasses?"

The artist's vision, or whatever Morgana had said. Joker takes off his glasses, trying not to move too much as he puts them down.

Something to say...

"You can call me Akira," he says. "I'm not big on formalities."

This was the right thing to say, because it takes Kitagawa by surprise, and he actually pauses instead of continuing to paint.

"I see," he says. He puts down his pencil, and Joker wonders if it was actually the wrong thing to say.

"I will be reconstructing the painting and restarting my sketch," he says. "While I consider, I want to repay the favor. We made a deal, yes?"

That's right. They did do that.

Joker dares to sit up straight, dropping the pose. "Right. I wanted to ask you about Kosei."

"Why me?" Yusuke asks, not beating around the bush. "I've been wondering. I deliberately leave school late compared to other students, as I dislike being caught in the crowd. How come you did not interview one of the many students that left before me?"

"Yeah, I'm curious about that too," Morgana says. "Did you sense something about him?"

"You looked like you could use someone to talk to," Joker says honestly. Less honestly, he continues, "You learn to spot that kind of thing when you're in the newspaper club--when someone has a story to tell."

Yusuke nods to himself. "I suppose that makes sense. Still... I hate to disappoint, but I am just one of many. My experience at Kosei is nothing out of the ordinary."

"Ordinary is good," Joker says. "I'm not aiming for a sensational article. You have me curious, though. If not Kosei, then...?" He pauses, but Yusuke doesn't take the bait. Joker nudges, "What's your story?"

Yusuke shakes his head. "It's nothing that would fit in a school newspaper."

"I won't write about it," Joker says, persisting where he would've backed off in most cases. "Promise. I just want to hear it."

Not to brag, but Joker considers himself an expert in making himself approachable. Against records like Shiho Suzui, Yusuke Kitagawa stands no chance.

Yusuke hesitates a beat too long. "As I've said, I study under Madarame as his pupil," he says.

Joker nods. "You live with him."

"I live here," Yusuke says. It sounds like an agreement, but there's something off about the way he puts it. "I've lived here all my life. In fact, Sensei took me in as a baby, after my mother died. I owe my life to him."

And isn't that a red flag if Joker has ever heard one.

Yusuke turns away from him to stare at the canvas as if discomfited, and Joker suddenly realizes that his most valuable tool for looking harmless is lying at his feet. Damn. It's too late to put his glasses back on now, so Joker will just have to work with what he has.

"That's dramatic," he says, leaning back. He's gratified when Yusuke turns back to glare at him. He's looking Joker in the eyes for the first time.

"It's the truth," Yusuke says, with emphasis. "I may have been kept alive regardless, but as an orphan in an institution I would have none of the opportunities Sensei has given me. His guidance has done me worlds of good, and has ensured I got a full scholarship to Kosei's Fine Arts Department. Because of Sensei's reputation, I have been given privileges I would never have gotten otherwise."

He's thought about this a lot, hasn't he. He has a whole speech prepared.

Morgana has a similar train of thought. "Madarame's guidance, Madarame's reputation... Is it just me, or did he not even once mention being raised?"

Yusuke averts his glare, and walks over to the bag of cat treats he left abandoned.

"My apologies for raising my voice," he tells Morgana as he offers another cat treat.

Spoiled rotten, Joker thinks with amusement.

Morgana forgets all his previous worries to snatch the treat out of Yusuke's hand. It took Yusuke a matter of hours to figure out how to quiet Morgana, compared to Joker's weeks.

"Is that really all, though?" Joker asks Yusuke. "This all sounds like it's normal for you. Isn't there something else you wanted to talk about?"

It's for a good cause, Joker tells himself, as Yusuke's face twists. He needs to be okay with making people uncomfortable if he's going to get anywhere.

"Weren't we talking about Kosei?" Yusuke attempts.

Joker rests his head on his palm, watching Yusuke with an air of unshakable calm. "Do you want to tell me about Kosei?"

Yusuke lowers his head. He's no longer pretending to study the canvas or Morgana.

Eventually he says, in a tone as quiet as Joker's, "It's true. Despite my best attempts, I'm not satisfied with my lot in life. That just means I have to keep trying."

He meets Joker's eyes again, and says, with conviction, "The duty of the pupil is to support his master. One day I will learn to be content with that, and on that day I will have realized true peace."

"... Is that the truth?"

Joker has none of Yusuke's conviction in his tone, but still--or maybe because of that--Yusuke takes the question seriously. He swallows.

It's a good minute before Yusuke finds the words, but when he does...

"What else is there to do?" he asks. "Certainly not leave this place. I have watched what happens when his students desert this place. It's always the same, whether the split was born from malice, ignorance, or simply supposed to be an escape."

The implications hang between them. Morgana watches them both with big eyes.

Joker chews the inside of his cheek. In his mind's eye, Shiho looks at him and says, What else can I do?

This definitely isn't his decision. Still.

"I feel like this is the right time to admit I'm not from any newspaper club," Joker says. He picks his glasses up off the floor.

Yusuke reels back. "No... A lie...?"

"I heard some rumors," Joker says. "I was worried. I'm not going to spread this around, if that's what you're afraid of, but I will do something about it."

Yusuke is frowning heavily. "Something," he repeats.

This is so not Joker's decision.

When Joker doesn't look like he's going to say anything else, Yusuke asks, affronted, "Was the modeling a lie too, then?"

As far as he's concerned, Joker has betrayed him. It's nothing unexpected, but Joker still feels guilty.

"No," Joker says. "We made a deal. I won't go back on it."

This is in no possible way Joker's decision. And yet.

Joker takes out his phone and opens the MetaNav.

He's still sitting down, so Morgana can easily see his phone screen. "Wait, what?" Morgana yelps.

Yusuke approaches, silent as a ghost. He watches Joker type 'Ichiryusai Madarame'. "What... are you doing?"

"Showing you something," Joker tells him.

"Candidate found."

Joker enters their current location, and gets a hit.

"Hey, you can't just do that!" Morgana says with even more urgency. "Secret identity aside, we're in the Palace location. Who knows where we'll end up if you use the app here."

Morgana has a point. Joker glances at Yusuke.

"This is best done outside," he says. "Will you follow me?"

Morgana grumbles about it, but as soon as Joker stands up, he jumps from his seat too.

"I don't understand," Yusuke says, but he still follows Joker.

They're barely out the front door when Joker starts guessing at the third keyword. Despite Morgana's earlier protests, he pitches in with ideas. Yusuke looks between them with an expression Joker can't read.

"Something art-related," Morgana says. "Hey, try 'museum'."

"Destination found."

"Are you sure about this-?" is all Morgana gets to say before Joker's phone continues, "Beginning navigation."

When Akira asks everyone to meet up in Leblanc, instead of the school roof, Shiho assumes it's for a study session or something. She's wrong.

It's not an odd assumption, in her opinion. Shiho and Ann come here all the time, after those first few times Akira had brought them here as an escape from school. It's small and quiet, and it has a hole-in-the-wall atmosphere that Shiho has learned to love.

They've had study sessions here before, when all of Shiho's friends kept getting dirty looks for sitting in the school library. That's really the only reason Ryuji comes to Leblanc, as far as she knows. So a gathering like this? Of course it would be a study session. She brings her notes.

"Hey!" Ryuji grins, already there when she comes in. He stands up from the barstool and sweeps his arm out as if to side-hug her, but seems to think better of it the next moment. He offers a high-five instead.

Shiho must hesitate a beat too long, because Ryuji sits back down and picks up his soda, still smiling like he wasn't disappointed. Shiho takes a seat right next to him as a compromise.

She used to be a lot more like Ryuji, in terms of smiles and easy affection. She's... She's working on it. Her friends let her do her own thing at her own pace, and that helps a lot.

"No training today?" she asks, and Ryuji lights up at being given an opening to talk about himself. Shiho relaxes.

Akira and Morgana are the last ones there, and on their heels is a very tall, very unknown boy their age.

Confusion obscures her greeting smile.

"Hey, Akira, what's this about?" Ann says, her curiosity insatiable. "And who's that?"

"Sorry for the intrusion," Akira tells Boss, but Shiho can barely hear it over the new boy's exclamation.

"My word," he says, staring at the café as a whole, but mostly at Ann. Shiho shifts a bit closer to Ann, like she wasn't practically plastered to Ann's side already.

"Um," Ann says, in response to the look being leveled at her.

"This is Yusuke," Akira introduces.

"Yes, of course," Yusuke says, "introductions. My name is Yusuke Kitagawa. I am in your care."

"The student from Kosei we mentioned," Morgana pipes up helpfully. "It's... a long story."

"Indeed," Yusuke says, and Shiho's attention snaps back to him. Surely he didn't just respond to Morgana.

Akira looked at Boss in alarm at the same time that Shiho's gaze snapped to Yusuke. That's a pretty big tell.

Ann gives a forced laugh and puts on the fakest voice she has. "Well, I guess if it's not going to be a study group, we should clear out. We wouldn't want to crowd the café."

Boss sighs. "You can take them upstairs," he tells Akira, long-suffering.

Akira nods, and leads the way to the back.

There are stairs there that Shiho has always kind of wondered about, in the same way she wonders about the layout of the kitchen in the Shibuya diner--distantly, impersonally. It's a total shock when she follows Akira up there and it's a whole room.

A living room? A bedroom? Neither seem right. It's so... empty.

Ryuji gapes. "Dude, you live like this?"

"That's what I said!" Morgana exclaims, vindicated.

"You live... above Leblanc?" Shiho says, bewildered.

"It looks quite normal to me," Yusuke says--in Akira's defense? "I can imagine it would be wonderful to wake up to the smell of coffee."

Why is Shiho even remotely surprised? Akira has many fooled, but she, of all people, should know that Akira is a friend-making machine.

"It doesn't matter," Ann says, awkwardly brushing the topic away when Akira starts looking uncomfortable. "I have the feeling that this is going to be a long talk. There's an extra table and chairs over there, come on, help me pull them up."

Ryuji, Shiho, and Akira are the established melee fighters, so the three of them automatically move to comply.

Yusuke tries to help, which is very nice of him, but his weak noodle arms can't do much at all. Shiho tries not to feel too smug about it.

She likes being strong, but that doesn't mean she has to brag about it.

Ann remains standing while everyone else takes a seat.

"Alright," she says, like whenever they meet on the rooftop. "Let's start the meeting. Yusuke, was it? You can hear Morgana, can't you?"

"Yes," Yusuke confirms.

Ann waits, but she doesn't get any further response. "Okay. So, you've been to the metaverse?"

"I have," Yusuke says. And stops talking.

"Ugh, just let me," Morgana says, before he jumps onto the tabletop. He raises his voice. "Akira found us our new target. If everyone agrees to go after him, of course."

Shiho isn't the only one listening closely.

"His name is Ichiryusai Madarame, and he's Yusuke's master," Morgana says. "Yusuke got dragged into the Palace with us after we figured out the keywords, and now he has a Persona too."

"Dragged?" Yusuke asks. "It seems rather intentional to me."

Morgana's ears droop. "I was trying to uncomplicate it!"

"Okay, first of all," Ann says, gesturing for everyone to shut up. "Madarame? As in, that Madarame? The one who was on Good Morning, Japan?"

"The very same," Yusuke agrees.

"I don't know the guy, but that means he's a big shot, right?" Ryuji says. "Exactly like we were looking for!"

"More importantly," Morgana cuts in, "he's ruining Yusuke's life. He's pretending to be some master artist by plagiarizing his pupils' work, and if they try to escape, he drags their name through the mud in the art world so they have nowhere to go. One of his pupils even committed suicide over this."

Shiho watches Yusuke closely, watches his shoulders sink in on themselves as Morgana talks. She's barely listening. Everything she needs to know is plainly visible on the boy in front of her.

"We're changing his heart, then," Shiho says.

Ann holds up a finger. "One second."

Predictably, Ryuji doesn't wait one second. "What, are you saying we ain't? We can't let someone like that get away with this bullshit!"

"I said," Ann glares, "one second. Let me confirm the chain of events here."

Ryuji doesn't look happy about it, but he shuts up.

"So, Akira, you mentioned--no," she says. "Let me go back further, for Yusuke's sake. We all met with someone who told us Madarame ruined his life. At that point, Akira recognized the name Madarame because he heard it from a Kosei student--that was you."

Yusuke nods along.

"Akira and Morgana went to go gather information, and then," she hesitates here. "You took Yusuke straight into his Palace? Intentionally?"

Akira looks away, sheepish.

"Come on, Ann," Shiho says, deciding to come to his rescue. "This should've been completely expected. Remember how we got our Personas?"

Ann sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I see your point," she admits.

She looks back up then, regaining her determination. "Still! At least when you took us in, you'd already explored the Palace before, and we went with the entire group. This, there's no way this was safe."

"Sorry," Akira offers. He makes an attempt, but he doesn't really sound apologetic.

"If it matters at all," Yusuke says, "I'm very grateful for what Akira did for me. He made me see the ignorance I had willed myself into. Without his aid..."

When he trails off, Ann blows out a breath. "There were still safer ways he could've done that."

Akira nods, and this time Shiho can see he's taking it seriously. She relaxes.

She doesn't like taking sides between her friends. She rarely has to, though. They listen to each other.

Chapter Text

"Dude, I gotta ask you something."

Akira glances around, barely moving his head to do so. No one is paying attention to them, but there are people nonetheless.

"Let's head to the roof," he suggests. Sakamoto leans forward to hear him over the din of the other students getting lunch.

"Again?" Sakamoto pauses in the middle of his complaint, shaking his head. "Alright, let's go."

"Your outfit is way out there, dude," Sakamoto says. "I mean, what are those pants? You rob a magician?"

Akira instinctively glances down at his metaverse outfit, then quickly looks away. His eyes drift to Arsene, and he burns the sight of it into his mind again.

He'd liked his outfit. He'd spent the whole past year missing the way the coat's weight had fallen around his shoulders. Wearing it used to give him confidence, he remembers.

"Let's go," he says, and avoids meeting Sakamoto's eyes.

It no longer fits him.

Logically, of course it does. It's magic cognition clothing. It should fit him perfectly. Even keeping that in mind, the clothes feel too small for him and too big on him simultaneously.

His skin crawls with it.

Of course, his mental image of a rebel hasn't changed just because he'd died in this outfit. If anything, that had probably cemented it as his rebel outfit forever. He'll have to get used to it.

"Hey, man," Sakamoto says awkwardly as they enter the vent system. "You know I didn't mean it, right?"

Akira gives him a quizzical glance as soon as he can turn around far enough to do so.

"About your pants," Sakamoto clarifies. "They're nice."

I've heard better pickup lines than that, Akira thinks, but all he says is, "I know."

Sakamoto scoffs something, but there's unmistakable relief in his tone. Sakamoto really is an open book at all times.

"I'm starving," Sakamoto complains. And then, unexpectedly, "Want to get ramen?"

Akira, head aching, fully ready to head home and hate the world by himself, pauses. "Really?"

"Yeah, man." Sakamoto gives him a tired smile. "My treat. You really saved me in there."

Akira didn't save him, not even close. Sakamoto, along with Morgana, saved him, after that embarrassing ordeal that has his posture tense even now. And anyway, when Akira had saved him, Sakamoto hadn't invited him out for ramen afterwards. So it's definitely not that.

He really should head home. It's nearly dinner time, Boss will be expecting him... three hours ago.

When Sakamoto walks off, Akira follows.

Maybe it's different because Akira knocked himself out. Maybe he was pitiful enough that Sakamoto wants to make sure he doesn't collapse again on the way home. That sounds right.

Sakamoto keeps glancing over his shoulder at him, like he's not sure Akira is following. Akira ignores the jolts of pain up his leg to speed up and fall into step with Sakamoto. This does seem to reassure him.

"I know a great place near Shibuya station," Sakamoto brags, though his usual volume is dragged down by exhaustion. Akira feels it too. "I used to go there all the time on the way home."

Used to?

The crowd thickens right near the entrance of the station. Akira braces himself.

"Looks like we caught the tail end of the evening rush," Sakamoto groans. Akira glances at him and tries to match his posture--slumped over, slightly annoyed but not tense.

He's not sure how Sakamoto feels fine being surrounded on all sides right after a trip into the metaverse, but if he can do it, Akira can too.

They slip through the crowd with little issue. They're both used to the Tokyo subway. Though it'll never be comfortable for Akira, he knows how to handle it.

As far as Sakamoto knows, he shouldn't be, but he doesn't even seem to take note of Akira's easy familiarity. A born and raised city kid.

Sakamoto only bumps into him once the whole ride, and doesn't pay the slightest bit of attention to how Akira shrinks into himself like a startled snail. He seems to take Akira's silence in stride. Akira is grateful for it, no matter how unintentional it may be.

"Here it is," Sakamoto says after they split off from the crowd, more life in his voice. He's eager.

"It might be busier around dinnertime. Oh!" He stops short. "I need to call my mom. I don't have a curfew, but, uh, nowadays I'm home pretty early. She'll get worried."

Akira nods along.

Sakamoto doesn't back off for a more private place to call, he just whips out his phone and calls his mom right there. He trusts Akira implicitly. Akira doesn't know what to do with that.

"Hey, mom," Sakamoto says when she finally picks up. "I'm not gonna be home for dinner, I'm getting ramen with a friend."

"She won't mind?" Akira asks. He knows full well his voice is too quiet to be picked up by the microphone.

"Alright. Okay, I will," Sakamoto promises.

After he hangs up, he shakes his head in response to Akira. "She doesn't mind. She's not usually home for dinner either, but if she comes home and doesn't see any used dishes she'll get worried."

There might be a story there. Akira doesn't ask.

Sakamoto orders ramen like a pro, navigating the buttons without hesitation. "What do you want?" he asks when he's holding four different tickets.

"... Same thing," Akira says. It's the safest option.

Sakamoto shrugs and goes through the same process. Akira winces in an aborted movement when Sakamoto pays for him.

When is the last time someone had done that for him? Genuinely, with no ulterior motive? Sakamoto is such a stark contrast to everyone Akira is even close to being friends with.

Maybe Shiho would've paid for him, but their interactions didn't really allow for things like that. They've never gone out to eat.

That could change. Shiho came to Leblanc yesterday, for the first time since Akira started living there. If everything goes well, Shiho will never need to transfer away to another city.

Everything needs to go well.

They're sitting at the counter before Sakamoto asks. "So... Do you have experience with that stuff? Fighting?"

At the look on Akira's face, Sakamoto hastens to add, "Not that I believe the rumors at school, but you're weird, man. You go from zero to a hundred fighting those shadow things."

Akira manages to keep the wince internal this time, helped by how Sakamoto's tone holds no judgement. He scrambles for an explanation that isn't, 'I still feel like I'm fighting for my life, and that every fight will be my last.'

He wastes too much energy. He'd known that already--he's in much worse shape after these last two metaverse trips than his very first ones--and today just hammered it home, with him using up all his mana and collapsing entirely after he'd panicked.

He doesn't remember Sakamoto's awakening being that terrifying. He was knocked down both times, trapped without an escape both times, but today, it felt too real. He was viscerally aware of how close he was to death. He couldn't just lie there and take it, even if he wanted to. Even if part of his mind was sure that Sakamoto would awaken in time to save him and Morgana.

Their ramen bowls have arrived. Akira only notices when Sakamoto pushes one in his direction.

He feels like Sakamoto isn't really expecting a response at this point, that he would accept a change of subject without comment. Akira feels like he owes him some kind of answer, though.

"It's not because of my record," he says eventually, when Sakamoto is already halfway through his bowl. The next moment, Akira chickens out and changes the subject after all. "It's not much of a record, anyway."

Sakamoto frowns. "So no elephant tusk smuggling? Dude."

That lightens the tone of Akira's thoughts. Sakamoto is kind of great at that.

"No," Akira says. Might as well tell him, he thinks. Sakamoto is the one of the only two people who've sounded interested in hearing his side of the story since it had happened. "In hindsight, I wish I'd actually committed a crime. If I was going to get charged for it anyway, you know."

For Akira it feels like he's making light of a distant past, after everything. Sakamoto, though, looks outraged. "So you didn't even do anything?"

It warms something in Akira's perpetually aching chest. "Nah. Spoke to the wrong drunk rapist in the wrong tone. He stumbled and fell over, and there was enough blood to pin it on me."

Sakamoto slams the counter with a fist. His ramen broth quivers. "What the fuck!" he exclaims. "How much shittier can that asshole get?"

They're getting a few looks, but nothing longer than a glance. It's noisy in here either way.

Akira slowly and deliberately untenses his muscles. He shrugs.

The guy who got him arrested is nothing compared to the Phantom Thieves' targets. People can get a lot worse, he knows.

When he speaks, it isn't any quieter than his usual volume, but compared to Sakamoto's outburst just now, it feels like he's whispering. "It's in the past."

Sakamoto studies him. Akira doesn't move.

"I admire you, man," he says eventually. "Letting go of something like that..."

He starts shoveling ramen into his mouth again, and Akira follows his lead, relieved that Sakamoto isn't asking further questions.

"Hey, give me your contact info," Sakamoto says suddenly. Akira glances over to see that he's already finished his food.

He unlocks his phone and hands it to Sakamoto, then he turns back to his food. It's not like there's anything important on it.

When Sakamoto hands it back, he's taken the liberty of sending a message from Akira's phone.

Akira glances at the chat header. It says 'Ryuji'. He looks back at Sakamoto.

Sakamoto grins at him. "We've fought together. That means we're bros, yeah? Akira?"

It's hesitant, despite Sakamoto's projected confidence. Akira looks back to his phone. The characters stare up at him.

"... Yeah," he says. His fingers tighten around the phone, like he's suddenly afraid of dropping it. "Okay. Ryuji."

Ryuji grins like Akira gave him the world.

Chapter Text

"It's a navigation app, right? Couldn't someone easily access our history on the server?"

The whole group falls silent at that.

"Why are you all looking at me like that? I'm not the first person to have thought about this, am I?" There's a note of anxiety hidden in Makoto's tone.

"I..." Yusuke trails off.

Joker takes pity on all of them.

"There is no server," he says.

All heads turn to him.

"It's not a real app, it's more of a magical app-like thing. It never saves data on your phone, even though it pretends to, and it's not electronically connected to anything at all."

That recurring rant is clearly engrained deep into his brain.

Makoto does a double take. Ann says, "Woah. I think that's the most I've heard you say since... ever."

"How can you be sure?" Morgana says.

"I tried to mod it," Joker explains, slower, hyper-aware of everyone looking at him. "No dice."

Makoto shakes her head and recovers her voice. "I suppose an app that lets you travel to an alternate world isn't exactly commonplace..."

"I didn't know you were good with electronics," Shiho wonders.

Joker shrugs, uncomfortable with the sudden attention. "It's not hard."

"Sure it ain't," Ryuji says, skeptical.

After the disaster that was them opening the second lock of Kaneshiro's vault, Joker brings a cable into the metaverse. When they get to the third combination lock, Joker breaks it open.

Not in the way Queen kicked in all the security camera boxes. They need these to work, not to shut down. There's bound to be a maintenance panel on something, though, and that, Joker can work with.

He plugs his phone into the panel and starts running numbers.

"Dude," Skull says. "I thought phones didn't work in the metaverse?"

"There's ways around that," Joker says, distracted as he searches his memory for what to do when faced with the 'too many attempts' prompt. He dives deeper into the security system.

Kaneshiro's electronic security isn't very good. Joker wouldn't call himself a hacker, and he didn't expect this to work, necessarily, but Kaneshiro clearly wasn't expecting to meet this kind of offense. It's around the level of his own phone's combination lock, not at all the level an important vault should boast.

It only takes half a minute of waiting before the combination lock beeps and flashes green. Joker allows himself a smile. Futaba would be proud.

The wall starts to shift. Joker disconnects his phone.

"Impressive," Queen says. "I wouldn't have thought of that."

"Cool," Shadow enthuses. Joker turns his smile on her.

"Aren't most of the locks here electronic?" Panther says, curious. "Could you do it for any of them?"

"Maybe," Joker says. "I'm not much of a hacker."

Mona supplies, "This might only have worked so quickly because Kaneshiro sees electronic locks as simple."

"So, that might not be the case for future palaces," Queen concludes. "Still, it's a good skill to have, and if it's reliant on Kaneshiro's cognition, it should work for other locks as well."

"That's great and all," Ryuji says, "But didn't you say we're almost at the treasure?" He's looking at Mona.

"We are," Mona says, more confident in it. "We still have plenty of time, though. We should try to find the final two Will Seeds before we leave today."

He looks at Queen for approval. Queen nods. "Let's do that after we've secured a route."

Chapter Text

It takes several days to adjust to Ryuji and Takamaki walking around the school like nothing is wrong. It takes weeks longer to adjust to Nijima-san, who he only sees rarely in the hallways and who never quite lingers long enough for Akira to shake away the image overlaying her figure.

He saw their bodies on the Velvet Room floor.

That adjustment period is still better than when he's caught by surprise seeing a curly-haired girl in a school corridor. He doesn't remember ever seeing her alive before.

Her name is Haru Okumura. Akira wastes too much time combing through yearbooks for that information.

There's no point to it, except to satisfy his own need to put a name to the corpse. He should be spending his time more efficiently. He doesn't have much of it.

There's not much point protesting Okumura as a target. Akira knows that. He knows it well before they officially meet Haru Okumura, and he knows it even better after. He still tries.

Morgana gets mad at him for it. Akira wasn't prepared for that.

He wasn't prepared for Morgana to run off on his own, or to suddenly be the only person living in Leblanc's attic.

It hurts more than he would've expected it to.

He'd lived here on his own for almost a year before Morgana had invited himself over, so it shouldn't be this depressing, to get ready for bed on his own. It should feel normal. It doesn't feel normal.

Akira had never protested Morgana coming to live with him, not even at the start. It was... nice. It felt less lonely. He'd needed that. He still needs it.

"He'll come home as soon as he gets hungry," Akira repeats to himself. It's what Sojiro said. He can't make himself believe it.

"I think I've seen her before," Makoto says, frowning. "At school, maybe?"

"At Shujin?" Yusuke asks, surprised.

"Actually, now that you mention it, I think I know her too." Ryuji is thinking hard.

Joker drums a rhythm on the railing with his fingertips, almost soundless.

He doesn't want to keep thinking about her. He wants this conversation to be over already. He wants Morgana back.

"She's that third year we met in Hawaii, right?" he asks.

"Huh? Oh!" Ryuji's face lights up. "Right, the hot one! I mean, uh, I know who you're talking about."

The correction doesn't save him from Makoto's disapproving look.

Joker hasn't interacted with Haru Okumura enough to imagine her alive. He's not comfortable spending so much time thinking about her corpse. He'd just like her to join the team already, so he can replace that image in his head with something alive and happy, like he got to do for everyone else.

She's the last one left. Joker wants her to stop showing up in all of his nightmares.

"That makes things easier," Makoto tells the group, audibly relieved. "I can just check the school trip roster for those names, and then look her up in the yearbook. There weren't many third years on that trip. I'll send you a photo to verify, okay?"

She'd had hair light enough for the blood to stand out starkly. Shujin mostly has dark-haired students, so Makoto will find her profile without issue. Joker lets it go.

As if to underscore his point, he dreams about her that night.

Akira wakes up twitchy and nauseous and with the smell of blood on his mind. It's nothing new, but it doesn't get any easier to recover from.

He brings up a hand to press it to his chest, but stops it before he hits Morgana and wakes him up. Akira abandons the movement, dropping his arm.

He waits until the cold sweat dries and he can think clearly enough to shove the constant ache into an abandoned corner of his mind. His breathing has steadied to something consistent, if still clipped.

Morgana... Morgana isn't here. He'd forgotten. Akira curls in on himself, finding himself unable to enjoy all the freedom of movement he has when he doesn't have Morgana to watch out for.

Of course Morgana isn't here. He should've realized right away. Morgana always wakes up when he has a nightmare, and he always finds some way to let Akira know he's there. Even if it's just by complaining.

This is the first nightmare he's had to recover from on his own in... a while. Since the start of the school year, maybe. It's a lot lonelier than he thought it would be without Morgana.

It's quiet, and he's the only thing moving in the room, and he can't get the face of a corpse out of his head.

Akira resolves to recruit Haru Okumura personally, if he needs to.

Chapter Text

Akechi knows the owner of the jazz club. Akira doesn't know why he's surprised. That's such an Akechi behavior.

"You're always looking for new talent, aren't you?" Akechi is saying, his smile full of charm. "Come on, let's hear him out."

Point to Akechi. The way he phrased it as an 'us' thing is sure to get him what he wants. Akira tries not to grimace, because Akechi is looking to make him uncomfortable, and Akira refuses to give him the pleasure.

He should've never mentioned he played piano.

It's almost closing time for the club, and Boss might be annoyed at him staying out this late, but Akechi had practically dared him. What else is Akira supposed to do? Walk away? Absolutely not.

Muhen gestures him over to the grand piano, and Akira sighs through his teeth before marching over. He isn't that good, but he's not going to let that on.

He doubts Akechi even genuinely listens to jazz. He comes here to socialize and talk, not for the jazz. Akira will be surprised if Akechi can tell a chord from a progression.

"Watch this," he says with all of his bravado, sitting himself down in front of the keys. It rings familiar in his own ears.

His fingers automatically fall into the positions he knows the best. His half-grin falls away.

He's known this song by heart for way, way too long.

It's long, and easy to lose himself in. By the time he's done, Akechi has settled himself at a nearby table.

"Well, that was very nice," Akechi says mildly. Akira kind of wants to punch him for the way he says it. That was great, thank you.

It's an old and worn feeling, so Akira moves on from it without any trouble.

Muhen has wandered to the back end of the club, but Akira catches a thoughtful look aimed at him. He allows himself to imagine approval in it.

"What did you play?" Akechi asks. "I didn't recognize it."

"Sounds like a you issue," Akira neatly dodges, standing up. "I should be getting home."

Akechi hums. "Yes, of course. Curfew."

The bastard has a way of making everything he says sound like an insult to Akira specifically, with plausible deniability attached. Akira can't help but respect him for it.

"Night," he says. "I'll see you soon." Maybe.

Akechi has this skill of avoiding the Phantom Thieves that's impressive to Akira, especially since Akechi is supposed to be investigating them.

The Phantom Thieves had started taking over Leblanc often--sometimes multiple times a week--after Futaba joined. Akechi has somehow managed to avoid them completely after the first two times they ran into each other there.

Tuesday evening is still his standard visiting time, except for the one time the Phantom Thieves were already there. It's like he just knows.

Of course, he couldn't know that they're the exact people he's investigating. He might just be trying to avoid teenager crowding. Akira would fully understand.

He still teases Akechi for it, when it comes up, and Akechi pulls a face that feels more real than most. Point to Akira.

He doesn't have this kind of friendship with anyone else. The competitive kind. Akechi can be passive-aggressive to the point of hostility, and it's the friendliest anyone's been with him since he came to Tokyo.

The way Akechi treats him isn't based on his tragic backstory, Akira surmises. That's the difference.

Similarly, Akira can tell that there's more to Akechi--recognizes how defensive he sometimes gets, the sharp edges when Akira pushes too far. Those are trauma reactions. Akira isn't looking to find out more. It's none of his business.

If Akechi ever gets too gloomy, Akira pokes fun at him for it, and that usually solves it. Or, at least, it creates a different problem to replace the original.

Chapter Text

It begins like this: "Where did you low-lifes obtain this power? Did that brat teach you?"

Crow is wearing his Black Mask ensemble today, and so Joker can't see him baring his teeth from this angle, but it's unmistakable nonetheless. Crow snaps, "What, no puppets to do your dirty work this time?"

"He's already failed me," Shido's shadow dismisses. "What use does he have left?"

"How dare you!" Panther shouts. "Discarding Akechi like some kind of trash, the moment he isn't perfect. What kind of person does that?"

Crow is so taken aback by this that his own acidic retort dies on his tongue.

"It only moves the plan up," Shido's shadow says, unbothered. "I had intended to dispose of him as soon as I became prime minister."

This draws a range of noises from the Phantom Thieves, indignant to horrified to disgusted. Crow, Joker notes, doesn't make a sound.

It'd be incorrect to say Joker has no stake in the situation. Shido has hurt his friends--of course he wants Shido dead. Or, rather, in prison. Joker has become too used to killing shadows, he supposes. That being said, he doesn't feel like it's his place to speak. Many of the Thieves have scores to settle with Shido, and he's not one of them.

Shido says, "Betraying me nor failing me matters, in the end, although it is a shame there are leftover targets I'll have to deal with in other ways. I have the means for those ends already, of course. What an 'ace' detective--he was standing right beside me all this time, yet couldn't see through my plans."

"You bastard," Skull growls.

"You never would've made it this far without Akechi's help!" says Panther.

Shido replies, "He only appeared because of the expectations God held for me. I alone was chosen to lead this country into greatness."

Joker feels physically sick. When his lungs start burning, he remembers to breathe.

Oracle and Noir air their grievances without looking at Crow once. Crow's previous near-tangible aura of hatred is tempered by uncertainty. Joker observes these things as they happen, but he's removed from them.

The shadow of Masayoshi Shido knows exactly what's happening. It may not know as much as Joker does, but it knows enough.

Crow steps forward, and Joker is jolted back to the present when Crow takes his toothed mask off--without summoning a Persona. Joker didn't know you could do that.

"Masayoshi Shido," he announces, and Shido looks surprised at seeing his face among the Phantom Thieves. "Look me in the eyes and know that your demise will come at the hands of your own mistake."

Shido's eyes narrow. "You're a thief after all, are you?"

"Not just a thief," Crow spits. "Amane Kurihara. Does that mean anything to you?"

It's a challenge, and it's one that Shido takes. He scowls deeply. "I knew you reminded me of someone. Is that all you came to me for? You think killing your absentee parent will make you happy?"

Joker blinks rapidly, as if that will make this make more sense. Crow's what now?

"I always suspected your aim was to trap me," Shido continues. He huffs, and says, "In the end, you were just a kid, no matter how sharp. You weren't subtle. Every way you know to trick people, you learned them from me."

Crow lifts his gun without delay and shoots Shido in the head.

There's a bright flash of light before the ray makes contact, and it reflects off a spiked helmet that Shido is suddenly wearing. His outfit has changed into something resembling armor.

"So impatient," he says. "Very well. You wish to be crushed, I will indulge you."

The room starts shaking, and Shido's platform rises. Jarred into action, the Phantom Thieves give chase.

"Let me be clear," Shido's voice echoes, somehow louder than the room's rumbling as it transforms. "Do not think of me as you do my son, who acted so brashly."

"Motherfucker," Skull growls.

In short: the attempted conversation was a train wreck.

Shido's golden amalgamation crumbles under his feet, and he curses it out. "Useless ignorant masses! It seems even thieves should not be taken lightly if they come in great enough numbers."

Joker is not quite tired yet, but the ache in his chest has deepened to the point where his breathing is unsteady. It's nothing he can't handle. He's still standing.

"Now that you're losing, it's the masses' fault, is it?" Queen's voice is all cold anger.

Shido chuckles, rising to face them. "No matter. I will triumph over the Phantom Thieves on my own, and give the masses what they wish for."

In a flash of light, his outfit changes. It largely disappears, leaving bare skin and dozens of extracorporeal veins down Shido's body.

"Careful!" Oracle calls. "Those muscles aren't just for show."

The tubing reminds Joker of Mementos. He doesn't like being reminded of Mementos.

"Keep hitting him with magic," Queen orders. "His body has changed again, we don't know what he's vulnerable to."

Clenching his jaw, Joker summons Take-Minakata. He's one of many, and yet, when his mask disintegrates like it has done a dozen times in the past hour, Shido meets his eyes and hesitates.

He stares at Joker's face until Ariadne and Zorro tag-team him into the ground and break his line of sight. He grunts as he gets up, but he just turns to Joker again, an unnerving intensity in his eyes.

"You," he speaks, and the other Thieves slow or pause in their uncertainty. "I finally remember that gaze. You're that damn brat that showed up and interrupted me while I was with that woman."

Joker is entirely frozen while the 'recognition' part of his brain stutters and reboots. Take-Minakata sits at his side, unmoving.

Sharp and amused, Shido's voice sounds, "So... it is you." He chuckles. "What an interesting turn of fate."

"Shido is the one that got you arrested?" Fox sounds stunned. Everything has been put on hold.

"How dare you defy me again," Shido continues, and it's not a question. "I should have crushed you completely the first time. Brats like you can't be rehabilitated."

Joker's lips thin.

"No way," Mona says, shocked. "This guy is even behind that? We can get our revenge after all, Joker!"

From Mona's point of view, this must be a pleasant surprise. It's convenient. It's fate.

Joker despises fate.

He barely recognizes Shido, even now that it's been pointed out. His memory of that night was kind of overwritten by both time and death, and the emotions of back then have been long buried under everything else.

Fate. Destiny. Joker loathes the fact that the Prison Master has been using him as a plaything before he ever got to Tokyo, that it was the cause of him being sent to Tokyo to begin with. How much of his life did the Prison Master orchestrate? What else did it have its fingers in?

For how long was he under its control before Arsene broke him out of it?

"... Joker?" Noir speaks up, reaching for a response.

Joker intones, "Arsene." Shido gets the breath knocked out of him by a bless attack. The Thieves take their cue from him.

The battle resumes, but now Joker revels in beating Shido up.

Chapter Text

When the twins told him to form bonds with people around the city, Akira hadn't expected it to be hard. He was right about that much. It's tiring work, but it's easy, people talking openly to him and accepting even his mistakes without comment.

It's part of the game, after all.

Akira does genuinely want to help his confidants, but with everyone except his fellow Thieves, their problems seem... distanced from him. It always feels a bit too manufactured. He helps them anyway, because it's real to them. All of this is real to them.

Miss Kawakami is one of the most difficult confidants, right up until she's not.

Akira's skin crawls at the idea of drawing attention, and calling a maid service is very far out of his comfort zone. He feels like their personal progress will be slow, too. Miss Kawakami must be able to sense his discomfort.

He calls the maid service anyway, when Morgana encourages him to. He's resigned himself to feeling uncomfortable with everything he has to do for the rest of the year. This is nothing new.

Miss Kawakami looks really tired.

Akira is relieved when she announces she's done cleaning and collapses onto his bed. He feels bad enough about wasting time when he isn't watching someone else working, and on something he'd asked them to do, at that.

She keeps talking, but she hasn't moved from the position she collapsed in. Akira knows that kind of exhaustion.

"... I was surprised that you requested me," she says. "I didn't think you actually would. Wait, you weren't expecting to do anything weird with me, right?"

Her tone is a warning.

"Please, no," Akira says, before he realizes how rude that might sound. "... I'm not into women."

Is that any better? He can only be thankful Morgana isn't here to make fun of him for this. Morgana wants even less to do with the maid service than Akira does.

Kawakami hums in understanding. "If it's not that, why did you request me? Well, nevermind that." She yawns. "I'm going to pass out... for a bit..."

While she's sleeping, Akira tiptoes downstairs and makes her a coffee. She'd muttered something about 'three more after this' earlier.

If not for that, he'd let her sleep. Akira is very used to pulling all-nighters, he would've been able to use his time out of bed productively.

He wakes her up at the end of the time he hired her for. A light touch to her arm is enough to startle her awake. She looks around, trying to orient herself.

Akira quietly holds the cup of coffee out. The ache in his chest worsens with the movement.

"Oh..." she says, clearly surprised. "Thank you. It's not too late, is it?" She checks her phone. "Thank goodness."

After a sip of coffee, she glances at Akira. "Hey, do you know of any part-time jobs that pay well? You can afford a maid service, so you must make a lot..."

Unfortunately, Akira's main source of income is robbing places, and he's not going to recommend that. "What's this all for?"

"Well..." She glances away. "It's for my little sister. She's sick, so I need to pay her hospital bills."

Her phone rings, and she startles. She fumbles not to drop the cup as she picks up the phone. "Hello? I- Yes, I transferred the money."

Kawakami's voice pitches higher in her distress. "Not enough? It was the same amount as last week- Yes, I- I understand. Of course. Okay, goodbye..."

She pockets her phone and looks at Akira. Her face is pinched. "Hey, sorry to ask you this out of the blue, but do you have, say, a hundred thousand..."

Cutting herself off, she shakes her head. "No, owing money to one of my students would be even worse..." She clears her throat, addresses him again. "Hey, you might have some money, but be careful how you spend it. Don't waste it on services like this."

"It doesn't sound like it's wasted," Akira says. It's meant to be in protest, but it's too quiet to come across like that.

Kawakami grimaces, and takes the rest of her coffee like it's a shot. It's still hot, but Akira doubts she feels the temperature, or tastes anything at all.

"Look, just, be careful, okay?" she says. "You're too eager to help. People are going to take advantage of that."

It sounds a lot like guilt, or self-deprecation. Akira shakes his head.

He's not extremely proud of the work he used to do. His performance must've been terrible at all his jobs, with him overworking himself to the point of not being able to think anymore. He'd felt guilty about it, about not even having a good excuse for it. He'd still had his reasons. He's not going to begrudge Kawakami for hers.

"Well, I've warned you. The rest is your responsibility." Kawakami stands up briskly, checking her phone again. "Don't stay up too late, okay?"

His confidant bond with Kawakami makes him feel less distant from his other confidants, too. They start feeling more like real people, and Akira starts to understand them, after he forms a bond with Kawakami.

Maybe it's because Kawakami is working just as hard as him towards an unattainable goal.

Akira never feels like he's doing enough. The closest he ever gets to a real argument is when Morgana tells him to go to bed while he's still working on something. And he's always working on something.

"You are eating well, right?" Kawakami asks another time, her stern face clashing with her maid outfit. "Nutrition is important, especially for students."

She waits for an answer. Akira doesn't understand why so many people care about what he's eating. "Sakamoto-san makes me bentos. They're good."

Kawakami is surprised at that. "I see. I'm worried about you, since you don't have parents, but I guess your friends are helping out. Still, if you need help with laundry or cooking, call me, okay? It is my job."

Akira is constantly and forcibly taken care of by his confidants, so it's ridiculous that he's still so tired all the time. It doesn't matter how much he sleeps, he always feels like he could fall right back asleep. He does, once, in class with Kawakami, but both Kawakami and Morgana give him such concerned looks afterwards that he never does that again.

Sleeping feels pointless. Morgana still insists he does it, but it never seems to make a difference.

Kawakami pulls him aside after classes end for the day. "Have you gone to see Doctor Maruki yet?"

Joker nods. Too many times.

Kawakami's brow creases. "Well... If you want to go again, that's fine, you know?"

Joker most certainly does not want to.

When she walks away, Morgana pops his head out of the bag. "I get that you don't like Maruki, but you do look stressed. Maybe you can talk to someone else?"

That sounds like a waste of time, if Joker is going to be honest. Talking to a counselor won't stop him from dying. Unless it's Maruki, maybe, because of how his confidant bonds work. But he really doesn't want to talk to Maruki.

It's not that he'd rather die than talk to Maruki again, not at all, but as long as he has other equally productive ways to spend his time, Joker has an excuse to avoid him.

It's probably not a coincidence that the next day after classes, Maruki texts him, My door is always open!

Joker sighs. He exchanges a look with Morgana, who, as always, is reading along.

"I guess your teacher's really worried," Morgana says.

It's a good sign that Kawakami has the time to talk to other teachers now, instead of rushing off to a part-time job. Joker is glad to see her find her passion for teaching again. He wishes it wasn't aimed at him.

Fine. Once more.

He heads to the practice building.

The door to the nurse's office is open, which unfortunately means that Maruki is available. Not for the first time, Joker wonders if Shujin still has an actual medical nurse, and if so, where they could be found.

Morgana puts his paws on the edge of the bag, but he hesitates before he jumps out. "Do you want me to stay this time?"

"I won't subject you to Maruki," Joker mutters under his breath, with some humor.

Maruki really isn't that bad, and Joker is the only one who has anything against him. He, Shiho, and Ryuji take turns complaining about various faculty members they're biased against. It's team bonding.

Morgana takes it in the spirit it was meant. "Try not to perish without me," he quips, jumping to the ground.

With a significantly lighter bag, Joker pushes the door to the nurse's office open.

Maruki actually lights up at the sight of him. "Kurusu! I didn't think you'd come. You've been busy lately, I gather."

Joker closes the door behind him, taking his usual seat. "I don't want to worry Miss Kawakami."

Maruki chuckles sheepishly. "So, you knew about that, did you...? I shouldn't have expected anything else. She did ask if I could talk to you."

He folds his hands in front of him. "For Miss Kawakami's sake, let's not work on our deal today. It's been a while. How are you doing?"

Reason number one why Joker doesn't like these conversations. No one else asks him these kinds of questions.

Actually, Lala used to ask him. He hasn't been to Crossroads in a while now. He's been too busy.

At whatever expression settles on Joker's face, Maruki redirects. "I can imagine if that question was too broad. How about... What's on your mind?"

How much he wants to be doing anything else right now. "I went to the beach with my friends recently. That was nice."

Maruki clears his throat awkwardly. "I see. Have you... been sleeping enough?"

Joker nods, keeping a straight face as he says, "My cat makes sure of it."

Maruki nods back, as if this makes perfect sense. "I'm glad to hear that. Then, how are your studies coming along?"

"I'm in the top ten of the second-years," Joker tells him.

Maruki smiles. "And that's very impressive. I meant more if you were studying a lot. It's important to take breaks--students often forget that. I still forget that, myself," he jokes.

Breaks... "I do three things a day, at most."

"Ah," Maruki says, like he's caught Joker on something. "That's something I hear pretty often. 'I don't do much in the first place, so I don't need to take breaks.'"

Joker doesn't respond, so Maruki presses. "Is that what you meant?"

The way he said it made it sound like a trick question, but Joker nods anyway.

"It sounds logical," Maruki continues, "but as it turns out, the mind doesn't quite work like that. 'Not being productive' and 'taking a break' are two different things. I tend to consider 'taking a break' its own kind of activity."

Joker frowns. "That's what sleep is for." He already said he gets enough sleep.

"That's one example," Maruki agrees. "It's not uncommon to need more than that, though. Whether you're healing from an injury, or stressed about school, or you're just not sleeping well, sometimes your mind needs more rest than you're used to needing."

It does make sense. Joker doesn't like that.

None of those examples really apply to him, but it's not hard to branch them out into things that do apply.

He takes breaks, but he has the feeling that the kind of breaks Morgana reminds him to take aren't really considered 'rest.' Playing games with his friends isn't physically or mentally intensive, but it still somehow leaves him more exhausted than he was before, which is not what rest is supposed to do.

Maruki rubs his neck. "Um... Did that make sense?"

Joker nods, but. "I don't think I can afford to sleep more than I already do."

"The best time to take a break is when you can't afford to take a break," Maruki says, like he's quoting something.

That doesn't make sense at all.

Chapter Text

"Seriously," Akira tells Morgana. He shifts his weight off his right leg. "You're going to get seen."

"No I'm not," Morgana refutes. "No one said anything, did they?"

Aside from commenting on the meowing, no, they hadn't. Akira is only vaguely aware of the classmate that sits behind him, but he's going to have to become a lot more aware if he's going to make sure they're not going to snitch.

Unfortunately, he's pretty sure the only reason they haven't said anything yet is because they think the delinquent transfer student would beat them up for it.

It's discouraging, that all his hard work to gain trust among his classmates has been undone.

He'll have to figure it out once more, though. It's not like Akira can tell Morgana straight out what he knows from experience: the person sitting behind them can definitely, very clearly, see Morgana holed up in his school desk.

Akira tried not to pressure the guy sitting behind him into exchanging chat IDs, but in hindsight he's pretty sure any sort of request from him was going to be taken as a threat.

He'd forgotten just how bad it was, at the start of the year. The frustration burns in his chest.

It's fine. He'll prove them wrong. Starting with horrific amounts of texting shorthand.

thx for not telling ab Morgana, he sends in the afternoon. u like cats?

Only half an hour later, he gets a message back.

Chiba: Sure

He's still being taken too seriously.

"Morgana," Akira says, "Pose for me? It's very important for the mission success that you look cute right now."

Morgana grumbles about it, but he doesn't protest much. He trusts Akira in a way that Akira isn't entirely comfortable with.

He sends the picture to Chiba, along with the message, 'more whr that came from if you prms not to tell'.

It takes a minute to get another response. In the silence of his room, the phantom pain in his chest ebbs and flows with the beat of his heart.

Chiba: Is this supposed to be a bribe?

Akira: yes

Chiba: ... Okay

It's not a guarantee, but Akira is satisfied. At the very least, there's a precedent set between them.

Morgana paws at his tongue, pulling a face. "I'm never getting yarn in my mouth again," he swears.

"Not even for a good cause?" Akira asks.

Morgana sighs at him. Which is not a no.

Chapter Text

It's deemed a bit of a problem--just a teensy one--when Morgana realizes that even in the real world, Akira responds to his codename miles better than to his actual name.

As a habit, it's fine, and there could be a million reasons for why that's the case, but Akira tends to space out a lot, and most of his contacts don't know his codename. He really should learn to recognize his actual name.

It's a hassle. For the very first time, Morgana is glad only those who have seen him in the Metaverse can understand him. He can help out with this in a way the other Thieves can't. Some uncomfortable questions would be asked if Akira was audibly called Joker, repeatedly, in front of all of his classmates.

"It's good practice for risk assessment," He tells Lady Ann and Shiho when they question Akira's odd reaction, and if it's really okay to call him Joker in public when they want to get his attention. Morgana puts authority into his voice. "When is the risk worth the reward? This is something you need to learn, as Phantom Thieves."

"I suppose," Lady Ann says thoughtfully. "Everything is training with you, isn't it, Morgana?"

"Of course it is!" Morgana preens. "You may not realize it, but everything you do in reality has an effect on what you can do in the Metaverse."

Shiho pets his head. Morgana tolerates it. He's kind like that.

Akira buys him fresh fish after school, that day.

Yes, as much as staying in Lady Ann's house would've been nice, Morgana is glad his lack of courage drove him to stay with Akira instead. They work well together.

Chapter Text

Joker leaves the nurse's office with his skin crawling.

"He really wants to help, doesn't he?" Morgana comments. "I'm surprised he doesn't lose hope, with everything that's been happening."

Joker doesn't usually respond to Morgana when he's in school, but this time, Morgana seems to notice how off his silence is. "What's up?"

Joker waits to respond until they exit the school, his mutter fading into the noise all around them. "He creeps me out."

Morgana narrows his eyes. "He creeps you out? Why?"

And that's the question, isn't it. Everyone else loves Maruki. He even seems to be helping the student body as a whole. Joker has learned an awful lot from Maruki since he started putting in the effort.

That means he can't just avoid Maruki either, no matter how much he wants to, how much he's already semi-consciously been doing.

"... He's trying too hard," Joker says finally. "It feels like he's contradicting himself, just to say what I want to hear."

"Hmm." Morgana doesn't seem convinced, but doesn't argue either. "You said that when he first came to Shujin too, didn't you? You still don't trust him?"

Joker silently shakes his head.

"You should tell Makoto," Morgana says. "I'm sure everyone else has been keeping an eye out, but she wasn't there when you said that. We need our leader to know stuff like this."

Joker is so grateful for Morgana. He doesn't have to trust Joker, but he does. Morgana has never dismissed him like Joker can't help but to expect.

Chapter Text

When Futaba picks Akira as her rubber duckie, it's because he doesn't say a lot. She's better at explaining things when she's not constantly being interrupted. She doesn't respond well to lots of questions, even from the people she's just recently started calling friends.

She wasn't expecting the bonus of him actually understanding her tech talk.

At first Futaba suspects him of just being a really good yes-man, nodding at all the right times, but when she interrupts herself to say, "You don't have to pretend you know this stuff, okay," he seems to take it as a personal offense.

"I can keep up," Akira says. "It's logic gates." It's simple, is what Futaba hears in the silence he leaves.

"Wait, really?" Futaba glows. "You're telling me I'm not the only nerd around here?"

Most of the group is crowded around a table in Leblanc, muttering amongst themselves, but Ryuji gave up on studying an hour ago. He looks up from his manga at her exclamation. "Oh, didn't you know? Akira's our resident hacker. Although I guess that's you, now."

"I'm not a hacker," Akira mutters, but Futaba totally cuts him off by whooping.

"I thought your phone security was weird," she says, flapping her hands. "No wonder! Did you do that yourself? It really reminded me of the stuff I do, actually, if at a way lower level. Where did you learn it?"

Futaba stops to allow him to respond, but Akira doesn't look at her. He's tense all over. His breathing is wavering unsteadily.

Never let it be said that Futaba is unfamiliar with disproportionate fear responses.

She checks his personal space bubble. No, she's still sitting a respectable distance away. She doesn't think it was something she did, she hasn't moved any differently than usual. Was it something she said? Maybe raising her voice?

"I didn't mean that in a bad way," she says. "Well, I guess I kinda did, but it's fine! I can be your hacker for the tougher levels."

Akira still doesn't look at her. If it was anyone else, Futaba wouldn't question it, but it's Akira.

Futaba hasn't gotten to know the other Thieves super well yet, but after all that time she spent using him as an example of how to act around customers, she knows that Akira only avoids someone's eyes when he doesn't know them. So... when he's uncomfortable, probably. Or scared. Futaba is inclined to say 'scared,' but that's definitely her projecting.

"Don't worry about your phone," Futaba guesses. "Tons of people do that. It's no problem for me! I got through anyway, didn't I?"

Akira glances at her. "... Yeah."

Victory! She files that interaction away into the back of her mind, to sit among all the other 'weird human things Futaba doesn't understand yet' achievements she's collected. She'll study it later and try to figure out what she did right, exactly.

Chapter Text

At this point, Joker is almost feeling good about his chances at killing a god. Which is sorely needed, considering that fight is two weeks away at most.

He's almost confident the Phantom Thieves can win a fight like that. That seed of doubt is lingering, and Joker doesn't expect it to go away until everything is finally over, but it's enough for him to at least act like everything is going to be fine. He goes through the motions of daily life, and he even has fun with it sometimes.

Helping Futaba with her promise list is one of those things he's allowing himself to enjoy. Futaba is surprisingly eager, and when she's not, she's stubborn enough to make up for it twice over. They work well together.

Akira enters the diner with Futaba half hiding behind him, which accomplishes the exact opposite of what she wants. People are looking. Akira pushes down lingering discomfort and finds them an open table.

"It's not so bad for Shibuya," Futaba says, crouched on her seat. The way she's worrying her nail betrays her. "I mean, as a boss, this is easy. The subway is worse."

Akira nods emphatically. The subway is worse. "Do you want soda?"

"Urgh," Futaba says. "Is it like the soda Sojiro gets?"

"Yeah," Akira says.

"Nope, no way. Gross."

It's such a domestic interaction, and Akira relaxes. He's not sure if Futaba realizes just how much of a key item she is for him, the way he is for her.

"Kurusu-kun?" asks a familiar voice. Akira looks up to see Mishima. "I don't see you here a lot. Oh, I'm sorry, are you two...?"

"No, this is perfect," Futaba says, ignoring the implications that Akira is busy pulling a face at. "You," she says, eyeing his uniform, "you go to Akira's school, right? What's your name?"

Akira can see Futaba's play here. Mishima is slightly less anxiety-inducing to talk to than a stranger, and he fits Futaba's peer criteria.

"Have a conversation with me, Nishima," Futaba orders.

Mishima gapes slightly, before blushing. Akira rolls his eyes before Mishima even says, "If a girl is asking me... How could I refuse?"

Futaba doesn't react, deep in thought over how a conversation is supposed to go.

"Um, uh," Futaba searches, but the words she finds are lost to Akira when his attention zeroes in on Mishima. He's sat down next to Akira.

It's Akira's own fault, really. He knows Futaba doesn't like people in her personal space, so he shifted over so Mishima could sit down. He didn't think it was a big deal. He'd thought he was over this.

His skin is crawling, and he hears Futaba and Mishima both talking, but the words pass him by without acknowledgement. He keeps his gaze on the table and on his pale hands. Walls on three sides, and someone blocking his only exit.

It's ridiculous. He should be over this. He hasn't had a reaction this strong to feeling trapped in months. He... hasn't felt trapped at all for that same amount of time, has he? He's spent plenty of time in Leblanc or this diner or anywhere, but his friends always leave a space for him at the edges, like they know.

Akira wishes this realization could bring him more happiness. It's a nice thing. It's a kind thing, that they've been taking that into account, but there is someone guarding the exit and nowhere else to go and Akira really, really wants to be anywhere else.

For a minute or two, Futaba is fully focused on Mishima, studying him like she's determining his threat level. Akira notices right away when she's decided it, because she turns to him and her face pulls into a frown.

Akira prepares himself to react--nod, or shrug, he doesn't know what the right answer is but those are both solid options--but she doesn't ask him anything. She turns back to Mishima and says something that has him shifting.

Akira still isn't looking, his eyes are fixed on the tabletop, he's prepared for anything they throw at him. It's the one thing he can do.

Mishima leaves. Before Akira has even fully registered that, his tense form loosens at the space he suddenly has.

"Joker," Futaba says, and Akira looks up. He makes an effort to unclench his hands. She says, "Constitution check?"

He manages a smile. "All good. Did you get what you were looking for?"

Futaba lights up in realization. "I did! Promise complete!"

Akira slides out of his seat and stands up, barely remembering to grab his bag. His skin feels jittery. "Let's go home."

There's zero protest from Futaba.

Chapter Text

"Hey," Makoto says, "can I talk to you for a second? It's... It's not business."

They're at school, so Akira understands why she's not name-dropping the Phantom Thieves, but referring to their moonlighting as 'business' has a smile tugging at his lips.

"Sure," he says.

Makoto takes them away from any immediate student activity before she turns and says, "I would like you to be my boyfriend."

Joker blinks rapidly. "I'm very flattered, Makoto, but..."

"Not like that!" Makoto insists, blushing. "I- My apologies, I could've phrased that better. I know you're already dating Akechi."

He literally is not.

"What I mean is," Makoto says, "I'd like you to pretend to be my boyfriend for the afternoon. You remember Eiko?"

"Of course," Joker says.

"Her boyfriend... sounds suspicious, honestly. I know it's weird to snoop around in my friend's love life, but I'm worried for her."

Joker nods. "I still don't see where I come in."

"I want to meet him," Makoto explains, "but I'd feel out of place tagging along somewhere as a third wheel. I told Eiko I have a boyfriend as well, and that we should have a double date."

"Smart," Akira says, smiling. "Sure, I'll be your boyfriend."

Makoto looks unspeakably relieved. "I was hoping you'd agree. You're the only boy I know who wouldn't read into it."

Akira reviews what he knows of Makoto's options. Akechi wouldn't read into it, but... Yeah, he can understand why she wouldn't ask Akechi first.

"Where are we going, honeypie?" he asks innocently. Makoto pulls a face.

"It's nothing fancy," she says, choosing to ignore the teasing. "Just a diner."

In a tone like he's still joking, Akira says, "I won't complain, as long as you let me sit at the outside of the booth."

Makoto takes him completely seriously. She nods, without a moment of confusion or hesitation. "I'll make sure of it."

Oh. Even after his deduction the last time he'd brought one of his friends to a diner, he'd half expected to be wrong. He wasn't wrong. Makoto knows, and is willing to apply that knowledge to make Akira feel more comfortable.

It's been seven months since he started forming confidants, and Akira still doesn't know how to handle the care people show him.

Chapter Text

Joker's chest aches.

That's not odd in itself. There's no days his chest doesn't ache at least a little bit. This time it might even be from real wounds. Wouldn't that be novel.

Real wounds, as opposed to what? Fake wounds don't hurt.

A familiar voice whispers to him. Maybe it's yelling instead, but it's so hard to hear that it only sounds like a whisper. Pain is pain. You should've told us.

"It hurts," he tells the open air agreeably. The vowels slur together.

There are voices outside, but they're too echo-y to make out any words.

Joker catalogues his pain in a practiced routine. Is the pain in his right leg real too? The sharp sting is different from the usual ache, so it might be. He might have a head wound, his face will definitely bruise along with his torso, and the way knives stab through his stomach makes him think it might be some kind of broken. His wrists hurt like they've been cut right open, but when he opens his eyes in alarm, he sees they're only chafed.

He tries to heal himself. He's not sure how he tries, exactly, but he does. It doesn't work. Isn't this something he can do?

He tries harder.

I wish, Kikuri-hime says. It's barely a breath, much less a sound, but Joker understands it anyway. He doesn't remember who she is or why she's there with him, though.

He looks around. Isn't he alone?

The clear, very real sound of a door has him jerking up in his seat. He immediately regrets it. His vision swims.

"I didn't expect it'd be you," she says.

Joker waits for his vision to clear. It doesn't entirely work. He squints at the person sitting across from him. Does he know her?

She knows him. He should know her. He does know her.

"Can you hear me?" she says. Joker finally manages to get his eyes to focus on her.

Yeah. He definitely knows her.

"How much did they give you?" She shakes her head, frustrated. "Bastards. Listen to me. Anything can happen here, and I can't stop it."

He'd figured that already, thanks.

"I don't have much time," she says. "Listen to me. I need you to tell me everything. Your motive, your methods... That other world, too. I need to know."

Joker's throat is raw. It's been vague and muted compared to everything else that hurts, but when he opens his mouth to talk at a volume she can understand, the pain flares. It tastes like iron.

"I don't understand," he says.

"From the beginning, I knew it wasn't a prank, but I couldn't assemble a case for it," she says, and it doesn't make sense. "I couldn't figure out the method. I'm not even sure I'm convinced after reading the reports. This other world..."

She leans closer. "Where and when did you find out about it? How could you use such a thing to 'steal hearts'? Tell me your account of everything."

It's not a request.

Joker feels this is important. This is something he's definitely supposed to do. There's a good reason for it, too. This woman is important.

We could lose more than just our place to belong. We could lose our lives.

... I left her behind.

"Start from the very beginning," she says.

A voice whispers to him. Another. He can't understand what it's saying, except that he knows the words it uses. A world, a game, a friend.

He remembers where it began. He has to.

"I got into Tokyo just before school started," he says. His throat screams at him, but it's drowned out by the pain in his ribs whenever he takes a breath, so he doesn't pay it much mind.

His words are still slurring, but he remembers. He tries to keep focus. He can not let her walk away from this.

"My probation officer took me to meet with the teachers." His head pounds. "The day before school started."

"There was a terrible subway accident that day," she says. "Do you remember it?"

Remember it? He'd been involved in an accident?

"It was seen by the public as one of the numerous psychotic breakdown incidents," she reminds him.

Joker frowns hard. That sounds vaguely familiar. That's also something important. "I don't know what you mean."

She shakes her head. "You should know about it. There's no way you don't. Your group was associated with them, after all."

"Tell me," he begs her.

"I'm asking the questions here," she says. "That day... Were you still an ordinary student?"

Joker is leaning towards 'yes', but he's not sure he should say that on only a gut feeling. His actual memories are too hazy to make sense of.

"Let's change the question," she says, when he's silent for too long. "You transferred to Shujin Academy, correct? Just one of many ordinary prep schools--or, that's what it should've been. What happened around that time?"

Shujin. Joker remembers that. He's relieved at how many memories rise up from the depths of his mind in relation to that name.

He'll try to tell them chronologically, as best he can.

"I... was late the first day of school. It was raining." He remembers that very well. The rain tasted like blood. "I met up with another student by..." Joker searches for the words. His head spins. He loses track of the sentence.

"It was a coincidence," he finally says, when he remembers what he was talking about. "We talked about the school and one of the teachers, and he showed me a shortcut to school."

"And you were still late?" she asks. Joker elects to ignore her, lest he lose track of his memories.

"Instead of getting to the school, we got to an old castle, right where the school was supposed to be."

She shows him pictures. A calling card. The teacher called Kamoshida.

"There should've been no connection between the two of them, since you had just transferred," she tells him. "Why did you target him?"

"Shiho," Joker says, and the tight feeling in his throat that had faded while he was talking comes right back.

She flips a page in her file. "Shiho Suzui. You seem to be good friends with her."

"After what Kamoshida did to her," Joker says, "After she jumped, we couldn't just leave it be." That's not right. "They couldn't leave it be."

Sae flips through the file more quickly, alarmed. "She didn't commit suicide. She's still alive. What are you talking about?"

"She survived," Joker explains, his head bowed. "I still feel guilty that I didn't do anything to avenge her."

"Kamoshida drove her to a suicide attempt, and that's what made you target him." She sits back, scowling. He thinks it's disgust, and he thinks it's not aimed at him. "Go on."

This is hard to say, but he needs to keep going. He doesn't remember why he needs to tell Sae everything, but he does. "I couldn't risk it," he says. "I was on probation. If I got caught with injuries like we got on the first infiltration, I was done for. It would be clear evidence of a fight, even without a victim coming forward."

Joker falls silent.

"Look at me." Sae leans to the side in an attempt to look him in the eyes. "Hey, can you hear me? You need to tell me what you're getting at."

He bites his tongue hard enough that for a split second, it drowns out the fuzzy ache in his head.

"I gave up," he says, angry with himself. "I passed on the model gun, and I left it to them. With three other people on the case, I didn't think I was needed. I was wrong."

Sae is taking notes. "You're saying you split from the Phantom Thieves group, only to come back later?"

Joker hesitates. That sounds wrong, but also not wrong.

"Nevermind that. I see I'm just confusing you," Sae says. "Continue where you left off."

"I went to see Shiho in the hospital a lot," Joker says. He doesn't pay any mind to Sae grabbing another folder to flip through as he speaks. His vision is getting blurry again. He remembers, though.

"At first it was only because I felt guilty, but we became friends. It went great until she moved a distance too far to regularly make the trip."

"You're spouting nonsense," Sae interrupts him. "Shiho Suzui hasn't moved in years. There's no hospital records here either."

Joker stares at her through lidded eyes. But then...?

"You need to remember," Sae says, losing her patience. "Just give me the truth. Did you or did you not change the heart of Olympic Medalist Suguru Kamoshida?"

"I didn't," Joker says. "Or. I did. Later on, I think. After I died."

Sae rests her face in her palm, closing her eyes like she's trying to stave off a headache. Joker knows the feeling.

"Waste of my time," she mumbles. "They went too far with the truth serum again. You're not making any sense."

There is still a chance, a familiar voice tells him. But Joker doesn't know what he's supposed to do with another chance. Dread sinks into his stomach, but it's muffled.

She gathers her files. "I'll try to come back later to see if you're more coherent... but don't expect too much. It was nearly impossible to get this one meeting, much less any follow-ups."

Sae looks disappointed. There's a twist to her mouth that Joker recognizes from someone else.

Joker watches her pack up with heavy eyelids. They throb in time with his head. Or maybe that pain is in his eyes. They didn't do anything to his eyes, did they?

He focuses on his own eyes, trying to check. His vision wavers and tilts in a nauseating way. He quickly stops focusing.

When he next blinks, Sae is gone, and Joker has a nagging feeling that he's failed some sort of test. The associated alarm is drowned out in a haze of everything and nothing at all.

Sae Nijima encounters him on her way out of the police station.

"Oh, Akechi-kun," she says. "You're working this late?"

"Didn't you hear?" Akechi says airily, hoping to see her break, just a bit. "The leader of the Phantom Thieves is being kept here. I'm to assist with interrogation efforts."

Her eyes narrow dangerously. "I had to beg for an opportunity, and a high schooler...!?"

Akechi enjoys the look on her face. He doesn't enjoy what she says next.

"Well, it's your loss," she finally says, with a sigh. "He's incoherent. I only saw solid proof of one injection, but he's been so drugged up they've stalled the entire investigation."

They drugged a minor. Akechi wishes he could be surprised. He wishes he could be smug, even, that Joker had fallen into such a lethal trap. Instead, only rage burns its way through his chest, sluggish and acidic.

"Yes," Sae says in response to the look on his face. "It's unacceptable behavior on a case so high-profile."

Typical. If it wasn't Sae's case, she wouldn't care a bit.

"Either way, even incoherent criminals may still tell their secrets," Akechi says smoothly. "I'll do my best."

"Good luck," Sae says, and Akechi can almost believe that she means it.

The way to the interrogation room is deserted.

Joker should be heavily guarded, his alleged importance superseding the standard skeleton crew of the night shift, but Akechi has long since learned 'should' has no place in the current government network. Shido controls everything in this station, as is the case more often than not.

It's underground, isolated from any help, with tonnes of cement to muffle the gunshots. Akechi's first murder in reality couldn't have been simpler.

Except.

When the guard obediently follows him into the room, it takes only one swift movement to take his gun, click on a silencer, and shoot him in the head. He doesn't even have time to yell. Not that yelling would've helped him.

Akechi waits for a moment for the body to dissolve into black particles, but nothing of the sort happens. Of course it wouldn't.

He loads the next bullet and idly turns to Joker.

He's taken aback by how viciously beaten Joker looks. Akechi holds no illusions about the habits of the police force, but at the same time, he's never actually seen Joker injured. In pain, yes, plenty, but the metaverse doesn't leave marks like this.

"I didn't expect it'd be you," Akechi says.

Joker's eyes flutter open at his voice.

The imbecile hadn't looked up at the sound of a gunshot--Akechi knows full well the silencer doesn't make a difference when you're this close--but he reacts to Akechi's voice. Because of course he does.

Joker looks so relieved to see him that Akechi immediately swivels the gun to Joker's forehead, just to wipe that expression off his face.

Even though Joker has to see the gun, he barely twitches.

"It wasn't supposed to be you," Akechi says, his tone careless to cover for how disconcerted he is by all of this. "I don't know how I convinced them that you were their leader, that everything went according to plan. Truly, I am curious--what possessed you to offer yourself as a decoy? And don't try to tell me only you could've made it out on your own. Any of your group could and did destroy the shadows in that Palace with ease."

It was Queen who should've been sitting here, in front of a gun, ready for the slaughter. The only reason Akechi had arranged for Sae to get an opportunity to interrogate was so he could see the inevitable fallout between sisters. What a shame that it went to waste.

"You're alive," Joker says, like he hadn't been listening to Akechi's monologue at all. His fingers flex.

Akechi furrows his brows and checks the position of his gun--yes, still aimed at Joker's head. Yes, most of it is completely visible from Joker's perspective, due to the long barrel of the silencer. How much of that substance did they give him? This isn't any fun.

Akechi scans him again, and spots blood barely clotting in Joker's hair. A head wound. That might be contributing.

"I'm sorry," Joker says. His words are slow, slurring together. He's moving his hands in an odd way, across his chest, his face, above the table. Akechi narrows his eyes. Japanese Sign Language?

He'd never bothered to learn it. He'd never seen Joker use it before, either. He glances around, but the room is still empty, the camera is off. Joker is not passing a message to anyone, though he might be trying.

"Didn't I make it clear enough?" Joker asks. "I thought you knew."

What a pathetic display, Joker begging for his life.

"I thought it didn't have to be said that I would be worried if you disappeared," Joker tells him, genuine distress in his tone in a way Akechi has never heard from Joker. His hands go slack afterwards, dropping to the table.

Joker is... begging for his life...?

He still doesn't seem to care about the gun.

... That lack of reaction might be caused by Akechi himself. He'd pulled his gun on Joker in the metaverse just a few days ago and aimed it at his forehead like he's doing now. Intoxicated as he is, Joker might recognize it as something that has happened before and conclude that he won't be killed this time either. How foolish.

If that's the case, what is Joker's distress about?

"This would be more satisfying for me if you reacted properly, you know," Akechi says mildly.

Joker bares his teeth. Akechi can't tell if it's supposed to be a smile or a grimace or a threat. There's too much blood.

"It was like you never existed at all," Joker says, and Akechi has to strain his ears to hear him now. He's not moving anymore. "I looked."

The low volume is more akin to how Joker talks to or around other people. Joker has never taken that tone with him before.

"Where did you go?" Joker asks, this time with a tone Akechi has never heard before. It falls short of accusatory. "Why didn't you at least send a farewell message? Did you think I would just forget?"

Akechi is ready and willing to admit to himself that he doesn't understand Joker. He's never understood Joker past surface-level observations. Joker isn't anything like the cattle Akechi must make nice with every day.

This, though, is a new depth of confusion entirely.

Akechi's gun has lowered bit by bit in his distraction. He lifts it back to its original position.

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about," Akechi says, "and I don't care either. I never disappear for longer than a day. You know my public image doesn't allow for it."

He curses internally. If he truly didn't care, he wouldn't be arguing it. It's a mistake that Joker would see through immediately and hold over his head for days if he was sober.

As it is, Joker shakes his head, and then immediately brings a hand up to clutch at it. That's what he gets for moving his head so violently with an obvious head wound.

The fact of the matter is, Akechi hadn't been lying about what he told Sae. Incoherent or not, people injected with truth serum have a lack of filter that makes it all the more likely for their rambling to have bits and pieces of evidence. In this state, Akechi is convinced that Joker isn't stalling. He truly believes his own rambling.

So, yes, he is interested.

"I disappeared," Akechi prompts, "but what makes you think I died?"

The very first thing Joker said to him after he'd seen Akechi was You're alive.

Joker chokes out a breath that might be a poor attempt at a chuckle. "You were involved," he says grimly, "I knew you were. Futaba implied it, too. And then when Caroline died... and everyone else was dead... and you still weren't there, not even your corpse... What was I supposed to think? Where did you go?"

Akechi has never heard Joker speak this many words continuously. It would feel like a victory if only Joker wasn't drugged out of his mind.

Joker is absolutely determined to ruin this for Akechi, isn't he?

Maybe it's because he's spent a significant part of his life in the metaverse, where one lives and breathes cognition, but Akechi is tempted to believe whatever Joker is trying to sell.

It sounds like there's an entire agenda going on that he doesn't know about, and Akechi won't allow that. Whether it's Joker's own agenda, he can't say for sure yet.

Damn it all.

The moment he thinks the word 'yet', he knows every single one of his plans has just been thrown out with the garbage.

Akechi may not naturally be a detective, may not even have been one when he gained the title of Detective Prince, but he'd grown into his title. Akechi just can't let a mystery be. He likes to think he knows everything that might be useful about everyone in his immediate circle. Their fate is at his fingertips.

Everyone except for Joker. Joker, he could never figure out.

Akechi sighs and lowers his gun. Joker can't die just yet.

It was supposed to be Makoto Nijima. Her, he would've eliminated without a second thought or a single regret.

Shido will figure out sooner or later that Akechi lied to him, even if Akechi succeeds in faking Joker's suicide without a body to use. In that case, Akechi will be eliminated, just like everyone else Shido had him get rid of. If Joker stays alive, Akechi can't afford to wait until after Shido becomes prime minister to tear him down.

It ruins everything. It ruins plans years in the making that he had staked his very life on.

It's kind of thrilling, to have a true deadline for destroying a palace.

Akechi resigns himself and screws the silencer off of the pistol.

Chapter Text

The first two times he visits Shiho, she's asleep.

The second time, he's accompanying Takamaki. The whole visit her face is drawn and serious, determined in a way Akira could never be. When they leave, though, she grants him a sunny smile.

It almost feels real.

"Thanks for coming with me," she says. And Akira...

Akira responds, "It's the least I could do."

He doesn't ask about her activities, their progress on the Palace. She doesn't offer.

The third time he visits Shiho, she's awake. He was well aware of that before he knocked on her door, but his heart still pounds in his throat when a hoarse voice calls, "Come in!"

She smiles when she sees him, a tired, wan thing, and Akira is shocked she even managed that much. And for him. He's a stranger, as much as he's here for her.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you," he says, lingering awkwardly near the exit. "I... My name is Kurusu Akira. I'm in your year."

Shiho doesn't look surprised. "Ann said you'd been coming by, even though you don't know me. Thank you."

Her voice is just as soft as his own, but it rings in the silence of the hospital room--empty except for them and scattered bouquets of flowers on every surface around her bed.

"I'm sorry," he says, because he doesn't know how else to respond. "I know you're probably tired of people you've never spoken to before suddenly giving a..."

He cuts himself off before he swears, but she gets the point, and shakes her head. "There's a lot of cards and flowers from names I don't even recognize," she admits, "but only my parents and Ann have visited so far. It's an effort to come all the way over here, and on a school day, too."

Yes, it is, and Sojiro had grilled him on why he was coming home after dinnertime until he admitted that he was visiting a schoolmate in the hospital. He'd given Akira the café keys after that.

Sojiro isn't so bad.

Akira takes a few more steps into the room when he's not turned away. He hesitates. "How much did Takamaki tell you?"

He doesn't want it to come off accusatory, so it's quieter than usual, and she leans in to catch it.

Shiho swallows. "She told me..."

It's hard for her to talk about, and she's gone pale. Akira winces. "Nevermind. I'm sure people have been interrogating you since you woke up."

A moment, she hesitates, but then her shoulders sink as she lets it go and changes subjects. "I'll... I'll do physical therapy here at the hospital, and I won't be back at school for a while. If you wanted to know, I mean."

It's awkward for both of them. Shiho doesn't know why he's here, and Akira barely knows himself. It's not like she'd get anything out of hearing him apologize, even if she did know there was a plan of action that Akira ducked out of. He's no one to her.

Still. If he can't help out the illegal way, the least he can do is support the people involved in the ways he can. "Is it okay if I visit again? I'll bring food next time," he promises.

Shiho gives him another smile, no more real than the last. "Sure. Ah, my nurse... You'd have to ask her what I can eat for now." She looks apologetic.

"I will," Akira says. A pause, then, "I hope you feel better."

He feels extremely awkward as he escapes back into the halls of the hospital. He feels out of place. He has no right to be here.

But if it tells Shiho that people are making an effort for her, he'll keep coming anyway.

The next visit, Shiho feels less fragile.

She's still sleeping a lot--healing, the nurse said--so he's there when she wakes up. He doesn't notice until she pushes herself up.

He immediately feels bad for sitting down without her invitation, and gets up. "Hi, good morning," he says.

"... Hi," she says, looking at him in a way he can't read very well. "Kurusu?"

"Yeah," Akira says. "I brought food, like I promised."

He grabs a plastic bag from against the wall. He bought jelly treats he remembers he really liked at some point. He picked up a part time job in the same trip.

"You didn't have to," Shiho says, but she sounds pleased.

Akira sets it on her bedside table, nudging one of the vases aside to make space.

"You can sit down again if you want," Shiho says, and is Akira imagining that, or is there a note of humor in her voice?

He sits down. He opens his mouth, then doesn't say anything.

He knows how to make conversation. He's gotten good at being friendly, likable. He needs to be, to have any chance at all of being treated like a student instead of a criminal. But this.

He doesn't want to ask her questions about her own life, not in the situation she's in. He doesn't want to bring up school when school is the reason she's in the hospital. He's not practiced in talking about himself.

Shiho comes to his rescue. "You're the transfer student with a criminal record, aren't you?"

Akira jolts. It's not like he didn't expect her to know, everyone knows, but no one ever brings it up to his face. No one talks to him voluntarily, in the first place.

"This might be presumptuous of me, but... Don't let the rumors get to you, okay?"

Akira swallows, turning to face her. She looks like she means it.

"Other students can be casually cruel," she says. "You don't deserve that. Ann doesn't either."

But you do? Akira thinks, but he doesn't say it. There had been plenty of nasty rumors about Shiho just before she jumped. There still are some, even now, in the corners of the hallways and out of earshot of any teachers. That she 'just did it for attention,' 'would've found a higher roof if she actually wanted to die,' 'did it to make us look bad.'

"They don't know what they're talking about," he agrees.

Shiho's face relaxes at his words. She takes a jelly straw, offers him another.

They eat together quietly, but it feels less awkward than the silence did before.

His fifth visit coincides with that of her parents.

They watch him like hawks, but when Shiho greets him casually they both relax.

"Kurusu, was it?" her mom asks, calm and polite.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thanks for visiting," her other mom says. Her smile is just like Shiho's. Worn. "We both work, so Shiho is alone here more often than we'd like."

"Of course," he says. "I..."

He holds up a book, feeling out of place. "I thought maybe you'd get bored," he says to Shiho. "I should've asked what you liked, but... Here."

Usually if a classmate was sick, he'd bring them homework. This time, he decided against it.

He approaches hesitantly, but he's not turned away, like he half expects. He puts his copy of The Great Thief on her bedside table, which is mostly cleared of abundant flowers and cards now. To the side is a pair of crutches. He can't remember if they were there last time as well.

"I liked it," he says, halting. "I can... Do you have a reading preference? For next time?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees one of her moms smile.

Shiho looks at him--she's still half-horizontal in the bed, but she barely lifts her head, because Akira just naturally shrinks in on himself to the point that she doesn't have to.

She looks less harrowed than he'd ever seen her. Which isn't saying a lot, but it's something.

"I'll let you know," she says. "I don't read a lot of books, but... I think I'd like to."

Shiho always has a way of reassuring Akira he's doing the right thing. Even though, as the one in the hospital bed, she should be the one getting comforted.

Shiho's mom draws him into a conversation about reading--his only real hobby--and his plans to retreat go out the window.

Another visit is spent almost entirely talking about books, and what she thought of The Great Thief, and Akira feels a lot more comfortable with a topic he knows about.

She's not finished it yet, she says, because despite what she thought, she doesn't actually have a lot of free time. Between her parents' frequent visits and Ann's visits and starting physical therapy and sleeping, a lot of sleeping, she doesn't have much time and energy left to read. But she's glad to have the opportunity, when she does have free time.

The seventh visit, almost two months after school started, Akira hauls an entire pot in with him.

"Woah!" Shiho says before he even sees her, and there's a bit of laughter in her voice. It lightens his heart to hear after so much time. "What's that?"

"My guardian helped me make curry," Akira says, setting it down on the floor for now. It gives a heavy thunk. "He was just going to teach me how to do it, but then I mentioned your parents also visit all the time, and..."

He makes a helpless gesture at the pot. "He didn't want me messing up a whole pot."

Shiho is sitting at the edge of her bed this time, legs dangling off the edge, not buried in blankets. She has a hand in front of her mouth, her eyes creased with mirth. "I'm not sure we can finish it before it expires..."

"You will," Akira promises. "It's really good."

It's really, really good.

"He runs a coffee and curry shop," Akira says, sitting down in the chair next to the bed. He's careful not to touch the crutches that are stacked against the wall.

"Ah, I see," Shiho says. "Really, really good curry, then."

Akira nods fervently. She gets it.

"How's physical therapy going?" He dares ask. He hasn't actually seen Shiho out of bed yet, although he knows she must be out of the hospital bed more than she's in it, by now.

"I think it's going well," Shiho says, noticeably more hesitant. "It's hard, but... I really can't wait to go home, and when I meet the hospital's standards I can. And Ann comes along half the time, which I appreciate. She even does all the exercises with me."

Akira smiles at that. Takamaki is a good friend.

"Has she been here in the last week and a half?" he asks.

Shiho gives a wavering smile. "Yeah. She told me... what happened at school. I'm..."

She chokes up, bowing her head, and Akira's heart hurts. She manages, "I'm really glad for her. For everyone."

"He's never going to hurt anyone again," he says, voice soft.

"No. He's not." Shiho shakes her head, refusing to wipe away the stray tears still welling up in the corner of her eyes, though her voice has hardened. "He'll never be a teacher again."

Akira stays quiet. He wasn't hurt by Kamoshida the way a lot of others were, and even he felt lightheaded from relief when Kamoshida was arrested. He can't imagine how Shiho feels.

Her eyes go distant. "Hey, when I go home... It also means I can go back to school."

She can, so she has to, of course. That's law. And yet. "If you don't feel ready, you don't have to." Akira would fistfight the entire government before he lets it force Shiho to do something she isn't ready to do. He'd find a way.

She shakes her head. "I don't think I'll ever be ready," she says ruefully, "Not really. Not there. Kurusu... How would you feel if I told you I was thinking about transferring schools?"

"Jealous," he responds instantly, before he thinks more seriously about his answer.

He's never really seen Shiho anywhere but the hospital. He hasn't missed her at school because he never expected her to be at school in the first place.

"I would, too, if I could," he says. "Something like what happened to you... It's not an isolated incident. That whole school..."

He grimaces, shakes his head. Some of his old conviction burns in his lungs before he pushes it down and away. "It doesn't feel safe."

"It doesn't," she agrees. "I'm not sure if other high schools are better, but as long as there's a chance..."

"You're not going back," Akira says. She's already made her decision.

"Don't tell Ann, okay?" Shiho pleads. "She knows I'm thinking about it, but I want her to get used to the idea before I confirm it."

That's nice of her. "That's nice of you," Akira says.

It's still an active effort to speak his thoughts aloud when they're not directly asked for. He thinks it might always be.

The next few visits are shorter between. With a good indication of when Shiho might be leaving the city entirely, Akira finds himself on the train to visit her more than once a week.

Even with her tough rehab program, Shiho seems to be having fun. Akira sees her smile a lot more than before when she's showing him bits of sign language she learned from other long-term patients, or games on the hand-held console her parents got for her, or photos of the paper decorations she helped make for the pediatric section of the hospital. She's impressively bad at everything she tries, but when she drags Akira in, he isn't any better, so he doesn't get to comment. They have fun anyway.

It takes him too long to realize that she's desperately searching for new hobbies, ones that don't require her to move too much.

Akira carefully doesn't ask her if her movement is permanently impaired. If it's any of his business, she'll let him know herself.

The twelfth visit to the hospital is also his last.

He brings a sci-fi book that he thought was too silly, but which might be exactly Shiho's kind of book. He still had fun reading it. Shiho could use some more fun in her life. He trades it for The Great Thief.

He nods when Shiho tells him she's getting out of here at the end of the week. "Finally, freedom," he teases.

"Give me your number," Shiho says, determined. She's already reaching for her phone. "Even if I have to move away for the new school, that doesn't mean we can't keep talking, okay? And when I can travel on my own again, we can meet up. I need more curry."

She turns pleading eyes on him, and Akira gives a surprised laugh. "Of course," he agrees.

It's... nice. Akira doesn't have any friends here. Except, visiting Shiho had stopped feeling like an obligation a long time ago, so maybe that's not true.

She starts texting him before she's even out of the hospital. Akira hadn't had her pegged as an active texter, not when she's almost as quiet as he is, but he doesn't mind the updates at all.

He's not very practiced with conversations over text, just like he hadn't been very practiced in real life conversations before he started visiting Shiho, so he sends back updates in the form of photos. The tone of her text changes to something noticeably more relaxed.

He shares more of himself than he ever did while visiting the hospital, Akira realizes. It's still not a lot, but just like he's never really seen Shiho outside of a hospital, she hasn't seen him outside of one, either. She responds enthusiastically to pictures, even if it's just a quick snap of him at his part time job at the convenience store to let her know he can't respond right now.

Their texts lessen when school starts up again for her, and Akira is still not good at starting text conversations.

It's a shame, but it's not like he isn't keeping busy by himself. Without the regular visits, he takes another part time job, and another one, grateful for their flexible hours as he learns all kinds of skills he'll never use in the future.

He doesn't need the money, barely remembers to spend any on food in the first place, but he needs the work. The busier his mind is, the hazier his thoughts are, the less he can think about the Phantom Thieves, the better.

They're doing fine. They're doing great. In the public's eye, they're doing great. They've taken down a mafia boss, even! Good for them.

He can see Takamaki and Morgana in class all the time, worrying, talking quietly to each other. They're lucky he's the one sitting behind Takamaki, because Morgana isn't as sneaky as he thinks he is.

Every time he sees Sakamoto, Sakamoto looks more and more haggard.

The Phantom Thieves are doing great work in the eye of the public.

When Akira takes up piano, he tells Shiho about it.

She cheers him on, says she's been looking into after school clubs in her own school. Maybe book clubs. She still doesn't entirely fit in, but she's hopeful. No one knows her and that's just fine with her.

Akira's not sure how much he believes her cheer, but she doesn't call him out on his fake smiles, so he doesn't call her out either.

They do meet up again, when Shiho is recovered enough. It's a lot easier to talk face to face, although it simultaneously gets harder to keep in regular contact. They both prefer meetups, but they're both so busy. Keeping themselves busy.

Chapter Text

How much did Joker say...?

The entire interrogation is a blur for him. He doesn't even remember Makoto's sister being there, like she was supposed to be. Or... he does... that was the second interrogation, wasn't it? Wasn't that her voice?

He might remember some of the interrogation from Sae. All Joker remembers from before then is feeling helpless, and impact.

It's easy to tell where he'd been hit. Even if those spots didn't still hurt like hell, the bruises are not even halfway to healing. They're bright splotches of color against his skin.

He's off topic. Joker is pretty sure he couldn't have strung together a full sentence right after he was drugged up, so that period of time doesn't matter. The real concern is Sae, or the one that pulls her strings.

At one point he'd said, out loud, that Caroline died. How much more? How far did he mess up?

He's not dead yet. Joker clings to that fact.

He starts working backwards. The conversation with the twins... went fine, he thinks. It didn't go anywhere, there was no communication there, but he also didn't say anything that would get him killed.

He goes through his conversations with Crow. There's a lot of miscellaneous thoughts floating around his head, and they're mostly visual memories. Akechi's face after Joker said... That Akechi had killed someone...? He doesn't remember why he said that, but he does remember watching it, now that he thinks about it.

Masayoshi Shido. He remembers.

It was mostly Crow talking to him, not the other way around. That's how it usually goes.

The longer he thinks, the more he can put together.

... Didn't Crow say he was working for Shido? He has been working for Shido. No, not just that, he implied he's been working for Shido in the cognitive world.

Joker thinks about it harder.

The counterpoints that seemed so logical before don't seem as convincing. Maybe Queen was right.

They don't need the cognitive world to-

Without Crow, Shido has no access to the cognitive world.

... Queen was right. Crow really is the Black Mask. All this time, Crow had been carrying out assassinations for Shido.

Crow had obviously turned on Shido at some point if he got Joker out, but...

Joker presses his forehead into his knees, trying to think through the pounding headache. It's briefly tinged with despair.

Crow had known exactly what he was doing. He'd willingly helped someone like Shido in his bid to take over the whole of Japan. He doesn't care... about...

Joker is being a giant hypocrite.

He's been executing Personas on the orders of the Prison Master. He's been obediently following its commands. He's willingly doing things he'd never have done of his own initiative, spending hours torturing these creatures that are supposed to be him, because he knows it will help him grow stronger.

If the Prison Master had told him to kill people, instead of changing their hearts, would he have done it?

Joker would like to say no, of course he wouldn't, but...

He's never really cared about the justice of the Phantom Thieves, at least not since last April. Everyone on the team knows it, too. He doesn't care who it is they're fighting, as long as they're fighting.

If the Prison Master had ordered him to kill, would he have done it?

The only time he'd refused the Prison Master was out of fear for himself. When he'd been introduced to fusion and he only had Arsene and Pixie to use, he'd absolutely refused to sacrifice Arsene.

They had kept him there for what felt like hours, waiting for him to break and agree, and he refused to play along. He's already broken, and they will never convince him to throw away the one thing keeping him together. He's never losing Arsene to the hands of the Prison Master again.

He's been trying to make up for that refusal ever since, trying to gain back its trust and approval. It makes him feel sick to execute his Personas--he does it anyway. He plays the Prison Master's every whim, answers its every call.

If the Prison Master told him to kill the shadow of a stranger, he would do it. That's the awful truth.

Joker mumbles apologies into the fabric of his jeans, even though he's sure Crow has long since left again.

Killing someone would probably break Joker all over again.

Crow wouldn't appreciate pity, though, so Joker resolves to never show it to him.

Chapter Text

It's obvious when they enter the metaverse.

Everything so far has been a mishmash of colors and words that don't make any sense, and Joker wasn't sure if he'd fallen asleep or was still awake--he's exhausted. Still, when they enter the metaverse, it's easy to tell. Joker feels it settle over him and shivers minutely.

He probably shouldn't be going on an infiltration in a state like this. He knows his own limits. He has definitely hit his limit for the day. He's not just exhausted, he's- hallucinating?

That thought feels important, but it's too heavy to grab onto, and Joker lets it slip through his fingers.

It's silent, both inside and out, except for when it isn't. The voice he's been hallucinating comes back once or twice. It's sharp and clear enough that Joker feels like he should understand the words, but they don't make sense.

It feels like a fever dream.

He's had those before, hasn't he? How does he make them stop? He doesn't like this.

He wants to be able to think without it hurting. He wants to stop hurting entirely. Though that hasn't happened in a while.

With this thought, Joker becomes aware that although he's moving, or things are moving past him, he's not walking. His legs feel like they might break if he puts any weight on them, so he can't be walking. Is he floating, then?

He definitely feels like he's floating, but he thought that was a side effect of the... the drugs.

Right. He was drugged. That can't be a good thing. He has to be in danger. He needs to wake up.

His chest throbs. Multiple parts of his body feel broken beyond repair. He curls up and tries to stave off the pain long enough to wake up.

The more he tries to regain awareness, the more it hurts.

He tries until it becomes too much. He loses the will to fight.

This time he might actually fall unconscious.

When he next wakes up, Joker's mind feels hazy, but he can at least tell what his body is doing. He's lying on something soft and horizontal.

There's something making a racket.

Joker wants to tell it to keep it down, but all that comes out is a painful cough. He tastes blood again.

The racket stops nonetheless. There's muttering, and this time Joker actually understands what it means.

"What possessed me to think I could care for-?"

He can't put it together yet, though. It's one puzzle piece floating in a murky pond, with nothing else to connect it to.

"Say, Joker." Joker twitches at his name. "Are you conscious enough to survive on your own, or do I need to return you to the metaverse until you are?"

Joker puzzles over that for a second. He knows what the words mean, how they relate to each other, but he can't connect them to his current situation.

One concept was clear, though. Surviving. Joker likes to think he's gotten better at that over time. He can do it now.

He lifts one heavy arm to cover his eyes, and hears a scoff.

Arm still blocking off the stinging light, he tries to sit up.

He thinks it works. His feet are placed on some sort of surface now, and though his head is spinning, he thinks it's upright. He doesn't know how he got from point A to point B, but as long as he did.

"Sufficient," the thing says. "I'll assume you can understand me. There is food and water in the kitchen. There are also knives, so be sure to watch yourself. The bathroom is in the front hall. Do not go outside in this state."

Those are instructions. Instructions are good. Joker should remember them.

They don't wait for his reply. "I'll be back," they say shortly, and then Joker hears a door.

Then nothing.

He's not sure how long he sits there, bracing himself to open his eyes. It doesn't feel like a long time, but he also feels like he keeps falling asleep and waking up again.

Joker likes to think he's good at surviving.

He forces himself to his feet. He needs to focus on his next step, and not on useless thoughts like where he is or how he's alive if the plan didn't work- what plan?

Not the point.

Joker is good at surviving. By the time the front door slams open again, he's cleaning his wounds at the kitchen sink.

Something in him flinches at the sudden sound, but his body doesn't react with it. He keeps going through the monotone motions with heavy limbs.

When his body finally responds to the signal to look up, he sees Akechi.

Something clicks into place, though what connection it makes, Joker doesn't know. He just feels like it makes more sense now. He's not sure what 'it' is, but either way, logic is good.

Akechi stares him down. "Turn off the water if you're done."

Right. Joker had stopped moving entirely, hadn't he?

He turns off the water.

His brain lags behind, and he only thinks to check if he's done using it a few seconds later. Are his wounds clean?

The ones he can see are. His split lip is also clean. The other pains aren't as sharp and clear in location, so this is about the limit of what he can do for now.

His head is still swimming.

Has it been very long? Shouldn't he be feeling better by now? He's cleaned his injuries and everything. He's doing this right, probably.

Akechi barely says two words to him. Joker's eyes track him around the living room, always lagging slightly behind. He goes into a door and another door and another door, and does things, Joker is sure. It goes too quick for him to really make out what.

His leg is starting to ache again the way it had just before he fell, a few minutes or hours or days ago. Probably not days. How long has he been-?

Joker brings his focus back to the pain in his leg. He should sit down.

He sits down on the floor of the kitchen, and listens to Akechi walking around for an unclear amount of time.

"Joker," Akechi says, right in front of him. Joker blinks open his eyes. When did they close?

Akechi is crouched in front of Joker, who has curled up against a cabinet at some point during his sleep. "You seem to be processing more. Could you answer a few questions?"

Joker blinks tiredly.

"I need a verbal response," Akechi says.

"Sure," Joker's mouth says without his permission.

His throat hurts less than it did before, and he doesn't taste blood. That's good. Drinking water was a good idea.

"Are you aware of the date?"

Joker stares blankly. How could he be? Did he miss a calendar somewhere? It's definitely possible. Does Akechi not know the date? Wait, is he talking about a romantic date? He's not aware of any romantic dates.

"Hm," Akechi says when Joker doesn't come up with an answer quick enough. "Do you remember what happened before you came here?"

"Maybe," Joker says, determined to answer before Akechi interrupts his train of thought again. "The metaverse... You took me to the metaverse?"

Akechi frowns. "So you did notice. Odd. You were barely even conscious, how could you tell?"

Joker opens his mouth and can't form the words he wants to say. What he manages is, "How couldn't I?"

Akechi scowls. "Either way, that isn't what I was talking about. What happened before you entered the metaverse?"

Joker blinks heavily. "You pointed a gun at me. And killed someone."

Akechi looks at him like he's said something strange. Isn't that what happened? Joker is pretty sure that's what happened.

"Right," Akechi says, after a pause. "You don't remember my debrief, then."

Joker tilts his head curiously.

"I'd rather not do this here," Akechi says, and grabs his wrist.

Joker cringes a little when the metaverse washes over them again. Nothing has changed except the air. Heavy, oppressive.

He blinks heavily. Akechi waits until his eyes are open again before he speaks.

"The mastermind behind the use of the cognitive world for mental shutdowns is a politician named Masayoshi Shido," Akechi tells Joker. "Don't mention his name--people are bound to notice. He has fingers everywhere."

Joker nods along.

"Are you actually listening?" Akechi says, his tone sharp.

"Masayoshi Shido is the mastermind behind the mental shutdowns," Joker parrots. "I knew that already."

This sends Akechi reeling. "You... Since when?"

This clues Joker in that he's said something he wasn't supposed to. He tenses up.

"I meant-" his voice wavers, unsteady- "Masayoshi Shido has a palace. I looked him up in the MetaNav."

He did do that. He did that after meeting Shido at the buffet. He has plausible deniability.

At his expression, Akechi shifts backwards. "Stop looking at me as if I would hurt you for misspeaking."

Joker doesn't recognize his tone, but it's not a positive one. He makes an effort to muffle the instinctive fear. There's no reason to panic, he tells himself. It meant nothing. It was just misspoken.

If he thinks it loudly enough, maybe his body language will be convincing to the Prison Master, too.

Akechi sets his face into something unwavering, continuing as if Joker hadn't said anything. "You will understand that with his knowledge of you, it is imperative that you're not seen in public from this point onward."

Joker nods, because this is familiar, too, before he snags on exactly what is wrong about this picture. Akechi was supposed to be an accessory in faking his death. He wasn't supposed to know.

"You faked my death," Joker says slowly.

"Exactly," Akechi says. "And as such, if you reveal yourself to be alive, we'll both be eliminated soon after. They don't need the cognitive world in order to kill."

He says it so matter-of-fact.

Joker frowns. This isn't how everything was supposed to go. If he failed, he should've just died. What is he supposed to do now?

"Use your words," Akechi says, balancing on the knife's edge of mocking.

"I'll stay put," Joker says finally. That's what it comes down to, either way, isn't it?

Joker felt almost awake when they went into the metaverse just now, but even though he hasn't moved an inch, he's tired to the point that his thoughts keep slipping through his fingers. He's impressed at how normal his replies sound. They're barely even delayed.

Akechi is just easy to talk to, Joker concludes.

"Good," Akechi says. Then, without warning, something bright and sharp stabs into Joker's eye.

He flinches back, remembering to close his eyes seconds too late. It got his other eye too. Now they're both burning.

"No uneven dilation," Akechi says, as if from far away. "It'll have to do."

Joker whimpers a complaint, the palms of his hands pressed to his eyelids.

"You've had worse," Akechi says unsympathetically. "I'm about to take us back to reality. Remember to keep quiet about what you learned here. Shido's people are powerful."

The oppressive air of the metaverse lifts.

The pain in his eyes hasn't fully waned when Akechi says, "See you soon." Like he's leaving him here to suffer on his own. The bastard.

"I know where the knives are," Joker threatens.

"Oh no, whatever will I do about the imbecile that brings a knife to a gun fight?" Akechi retorts. The door slams.

Joker slumps against the kitchen cabinets, thoroughly defeated. He's still holding his palms to his eyes.

There are probably things he needs to do with the information he has, but his head is pounding and the world is still fuzzy around the edges. He doesn't trust himself to make any decisions at all.

He will stay put.

Joker jolts awake to muffled, familiar voices.

He turns his head with effort. The immediate sting of his injuries has faded and now everything aches. He has to be a patchwork of bruises by now. How long does that mean it's been since the police station? A few hours? A day?

"A-ha!" one of the voices comes, clearer now. "There you are, inmate!"

Joker blinks open his eyes again.

... What is Caroline doing here? Isn't he still in Akechi's apartment? It sure feels like he's lying on a couch. His cell isn't this comfortable.

"You did not answer our calls," Justine scolds.

They're both here. Outside of the Velvet Room.

Akira pushes himself upright, wincing with every movement. It takes too long.

"You have some things to explain, inmate!" Caroline says. Akira twitches backwards at her tone of voice. There's not a lot of space.

"Did you... come to me?" It still doesn't make sense to him. "Alone? Is that okay?"

"We're not like you," Justine says haughtily. "We won't be defeated by a walk through the darkness of human civilization."

Akira's head spins, and her words don't make any sense.

Caroline shifts. "It wasn't my favorite thing... But Justine is right! Humans can't hurt us!"

Akira blinks slowly. No, he wasn't talking about them being able to walk away from the Velvet Room on their own. He meant to ask if it was allowed. If they'll get in trouble for it.

"You seem to be fairly hurt," Justine observes. "Why not heal yourself?"

Akira is about to protest that he's not in the metaverse, when he remembers he did briefly go to the metaverse. He didn't think of it. Can he heal injuries inflicted in reality? He should've tried.

"Sorry," is all he manages to say out loud from that train of thought. "I'm... really sorry. I almost failed."

"Well, sure," Caroline says. "But we can scold you about that later. You need to explain! What did you mean when you said I 'died'?"

Akira freezes.

"I'm right here!" Caroline says. "What, did you forget about me?"

"I can confirm, Caroline is alive," Justine says evenly.

He shakes his head, shrinks in on himself. He'd said that? He'd really said that? "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

"Speak up!" Caroline barks.

Sorry for watching her die. Sorry for not avenging them. Sorry for failing.

He'd said something wrong.

Akira starts inexplicably shivering.

Chapter Text

Akechi comes home injured and burning with righteous anger, and he's not prepared for what he sees.

The door is left ajar. As soon as he sees it, a spike of fear and then fury have him rushing towards it. Either someone had broken into his apartment, which cannot be a mere coincidence when Joker is hidden there, or Joker had wandered out in some drug-induced haze. Akechi isn't sure which would be worse.

He hears voices within, and slows his step. He doesn't own a gun, and he doesn't walk around with a blade on him, but if worst comes to worst he has a trick up his sleeve.

At least he didn't return to an empty apartment. It sounds like he still has a chance.

He opens the front door further with nary a creak, and catches a glimpse of blue. He hears what sounds like a child's voice.

Perplexed, he steps further into the apartment.

Two little girls playing dress-up appear to have broken into his apartment, and they are currently having some kind of argument over Joker's still form. Joker is curled up on the couch, his hands over his ears in a shockingly immature move that Akechi will make sure to mock him for, when he can respond properly to being mocked again.

"Um," Akechi says, in a rare moment of speechlessness that he's sure Joker will mock him for, when he can properly mock again.

One of the girls--twins?--grants him no more than a glance before returning her focus to Joker. The other tells him, "Our apologies for the intrusion," and turns back to Joker as well.

"Seriously, inmate, you're not getting out of this," the one with the buns threatens.

"It would be in your best interest to stop acting childishly," the one with the braid says.

"You're being childish," Joker mutters, but he does remove his hands from his ears. He gives Akechi a pleading glance, which Akechi has no idea how to respond to.

"Excuse me," the one with the buns says, bristling. "Who's the one making stuff up, huh?" She pokes him.

"I didn't make anything up," Joker says. His words are still slurring lightly, and his eyes keep losing focus. Still affected.

Akechi is pretty sure the truth serum should have worn off by now, but the longer the effects last, the better for him. Joker isn't the kind of person who would sit quietly at home while Akechi is distracted taking down Shido, after all. He might do something reckless.

"Stop trying to scare me!" the one with the buns says, her tone furious but her words betraying something else.

Joker shrinks in on himself, losing any inch of attitude he'd shown. "I'm sorry."

He looks miserable about it.

"Calm yourself, Caroline," the one with the braid says, and the name makes Akechi twitch.

"You!" Caroline says, turning around to address Akechi for the first time since he'd entered his apartment. "I demand to know why the Trickster isn't answering us. He's not usually this obstinate."

The one with the braid adds, "Has he injured his brain as well as everything else?"

Akechi slowly closes the door behind him, and takes another step into the apartment. He takes a split second to scan the little girls.

Joker isn't just treating them familiarly. He's treating them like he treats his phantom thief friends, with open trust. Akechi might be tempted to think they're his little sisters, except Akechi has looked into every single phantom thief in detail, and he's never seen these two anywhere.

Joker had mentioned them, though. Just once. He'd said, 'Caroline died.'

The two visible eyes they have between them are yellow like a shadow's.

"These aren't Personas of yours, are they?" Akechi checks.

Joker blinks at him, uncomprehending. That's probably a no, then.

Caroline huffs. "You dare! Trickster, say something! Tell him that's not true!"

"We're not in the metaverse, though...?" Joker sounds uncertain.

The Thieves haven't figured it out yet, then. That's good to know.

"He's been drugged," Akechi grants, taking another step closer to the twin sisters. "His ability to rationalize and his movement have both been impaired, and it'll remain this way for a while. How long, I couldn't tell you."

Caroline gapes at him, her visible eye wide. "He's been poisoned!?"

"I see," the one with the braid says, in tranquil juxtaposition to Caroline. "Without his logic, he does not know what we are asking."

"Does that mean he's been hallucinating?" Caroline says. "That must be why he was spouting nonsense."

Not necessarily true, but Akechi takes a glance at Joker's expression and doesn't refute it.

"Will he be okay?" Caroline asks.

"Eventually," Akechi says, although he can't truthfully promise that. People have become permanently disabled from less than Joker's recent trauma.

"We owe you a great deal," the one with the braid tells Akechi. She hesitates. "You..."

Caroline watches her curiously. "What is it, Justine?"

"Don't I know you?" she asks him.

Akechi can't help the furrow in his brow forming to match hers.

"I've been working with him," he indicates Joker, "for a while now. You might have seen me around."

Justine shakes her head, looking troubled. "No, that's not it..."

"Come on, Justine," Caroline says, when she doesn't continue. "We're clearly wasting our time here. Let's return."

"Wait!" Joker says, setting wide eyes on Caroline as he straightens in his seat. "Stay. You don't have to go back there."

The audacity. It's Akechi's goddamn apartment.

Caroline scoffs. "Uh, obviously we do! We have a job to do, and so do you, inmate!"

"Return to your cell the instant you find an antidote," Justine commands.

Joker has never been as easy to read as he is now. His expression betrays fear.

Inmate, trickster, cell. Caroline. Akechi is gaining more and more questions from this interaction. He's only now realizing just how little idea he has of the full picture.

The twins are gone within seconds, politely closing the door behind them this time. Its lock had better not be broken when Akechi checks it next.

Joker doesn't handle their departure well. He buries his head in his knees.

Akechi makes an effort to relax his tense muscles. If it's not explicitly and immediately dangerous, he doesn't have time for this kind of mystery, even though he'd like nothing more than to dive into what the hell Joker is hiding. He needs to dress his injuries and get some amount of sleep before he goes back into Shido's palace.

He can't afford to divide his attention right now. If he fails, they both die.

He has a larger amount of free time, as the school is assuming he's working with the police again, and the police are assuming he's focusing on school. That ruse won't last forever, so he has to make the most of it.

Shido's palace is far from simple.

Akechi is taken out of his musings when he notices how Joker has gone unnaturally still.

He's ready to assume Joker has fallen asleep again before he notices the force with which Joker's nails are digging into his own skin. Akechi cocks his head. Joker's breath sounds unsteady.

How curious. The twins themselves hadn't upset him like this, despite the excessive insults. What about the interaction had, then?

Akechi recalls the fear on Joker's face when one of them said that they would leave. No, not leave--return. You don't have to go back there, he'd said.

"Joker," Akechi says, "who are those two to you?"

Joker's head lifts at the sound of his name, but his eyes don't focus on Akechi. Though his fingernails are leaving indents on his skin, his expression is lacking in understanding.

He won't be getting much out of Joker. Akechi will leave it be for today.

Chapter Text

The night after changing their last public target's heart, Akira wakes up in the Velvet Room.

His heart jumps into his throat, and he bolts into a sitting position, not waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before stumbling to the bars of his cell. He can't be here yet.

He can't be here. They're not ready, his entire team is worn down, his healing items are running out, he's not ready to fight.

The ringing in his ears abates enough to hear Caroline's voice. She's praising him.

Justine follows up with, "There is nought that I could add. Well done, inmate."

Akira tries hard to form a coherent thought.

The Prison Master says, "What a marvelous cascade to witness. Your enemies have become your allies, and there should be no one left to hinder your rehabilitation. An old enemy was revealed and defeated in the same battle. Truly, this is a dramatic resurgence worthy of a Trickster."

It's a Velvet Room dream. It's a normal Velvet Room dream, like the ones he's always pulled into after they change a target's heart. Nothing is wrong.

Is it his overactive imagination, or does Caroline look worried?

Akira looks at the twins and tries hard to remember when he took them to the maid café in Akihabara, on what he'd known would be his last free day in a long time. It had been ridiculously chaotic, and it'd helped him calm down after a whole day spent stressing about his imminent arrest. Against all odds, he'd spent the entire train ride back home with a smile on his face.

He needs to calm down now, more than ever. The remnants of panic are not helping him. His throat is still tight. In his head, Ryuji's 'Make sure you have no regrets' plays on loop. The Prison Master is looking at him.

With a dry throat, Akira says, "... Thank you."

Yes, Caroline is definitely looking concerned. Justine is so blank-faced in comparison that Akira is very sure she's just as worried.

"Regardless," the Prison Master says after a pause, "your rehabilitation shall be completed shortly. That is, if everything goes well, without any issues."

The Prison Master laughs like he's just said something funny. Inexplicably, rage wells up in Akira's throat, and he grits his teeth.

He will die in this prison.

He wakes up with his heart pounding loudly enough that it takes him a second to notice Morgana curled up on his chest. Morgana is purring softly. Morgana is here, like he always is.

The triumph he'd felt after the fight with Shido has been washed away like writing in the sand, and nothing remains. Akira reminds himself to breathe, and stares at the ceiling.

Eventually, Morgana falls back asleep, his purring slowing and then falling silent. Akira doesn't.

Chapter Text

Morgana is still teaching them things. Akira suspects he'll be doing that for a while yet.

The cognitive world really is full of possibilities. Whenever he gets it together enough to be amazed, Akira kind of feels like he's in a shounen anime.

"... so, naturally, they'll be afraid if you threaten their life," Morgana explains. Akira feels bad for the fairy at the business end of their guns. She's looking increasingly incredulous at being used as a tutorial.

"If you corner them like this," Morgana continues, "they might give you money or items, since they don't want to die. Just watch and learn. You!"

The fairy startles at being addressed.

"Give us something, and we'll spare your life," Morgana tells her. "Whether it be money or items, just cough it up."

The fairy sputters, spinning in a circle like she's looking for an escape. There is none. Akira winces in sympathy.

"This happened so suddenly!" she exclaims. "I actually don't have anything on me. I usually do, though, you know?"

Morgana seems thrown, his demonstration ruined. "... Oh. That's never happened before." He recovers. "Well, then, I guess it's time for you to go to hell."

"Just let me go," she pleads. "I promise I won't tell King Kamoshida!"

Failing to keep quiet, Akira says, "Do we need to kill her?" He's been trying to steel himself, but the fairy looks like a cornered animal, like prey without escape, and he can't help but feel bad.

She turns to him with wide eyes. "I just want to live! You get it, right? If I can do anything to..."

She trails off, her voice dying. A frown appears on her face. "Maybe... I can help? Hey..."

"What?" Ann asks, alarmed as the fairy starts fluttering towards Akira. "Morgana, what's she doing?"

"Codenames, Panther," Morgana reminds her. "As for her... Uh..."

"We're the same," the fairy says, as she offers him a contract. I am thou- "I remember now. I don't belong to King Kamoshida. My real name is Pixie. From now on, I'm you."

Akira agrees on a level he doesn't understand himself, and Pixie starts glowing, her form disappearing into the vague shape of a mask.

Akira stares blankly at the empty space Pixie was just flying in. That's not supposed to happen.

"Wh-?" says Mona. "Where'd she go?"

Akira lowers his gun, a light frown forming. He thinks he knows, but he has to be making it up, because that's not how Personas work. He doesn't think so, anyhow.

"Hey, wait!" Panther yelps, and the four of them whirl to see what she's looking at. It's another shadow charging at them.

Their own Shadow launches herself at it, tackling it and ripping its mask off before jumping back to regroup. Panther breathes a sigh of relief as its knight form melts into some kind of horse.

"Thanks, Shadow," she says. "Ryu- Uh, Skull, can you keep it distracted? Mona, Shadow needs healing. Does Joker need healing?"

I got this, Pixie tells him, as Akira focuses on the enemy. Let me at 'em.

Sure, Akira thinks, throwing away his apprehension, why the hell not?

"Pixie," he says, with a deceptive calm, and she appears in a flash of blue.

"That's-!" Mona gapes.

Pixie lifts a hand and brings down lightning like Captain Kidd usually does, sending the horse-like shadow crashing to the ground.

"Ryuji!" Panther calls, and Skull follows up with his pipe.

"Don't tell me," Mona says, distracted from the massacre going on in front of them, so much so that he doesn't even correct Panther. "You took in its appearance and powers as a Persona?"

Akira is about to refuse this, because obviously he already has a Persona, but he pauses. That is what he did, isn't it?

What happened to Arsene?

A wave of panic crashes through him, filling the hollow ache in his chest with blades. Desperate, Akira reaches for Arsene in any way he can.

Arsene answers, flaring to life beside him to replace Pixie. Blue flames dance around it. In Akira's head, Pixie pouts.

The fight is long over. Akira only notices when Arsene looks for the threat and finds nothing.

"You can use multiple Personas," Morgana says in awe. He hops in place, grinning, as Skull, Shadow, and Panther gather around. "That's amazing, Joker. I didn't know that was possible--usually a person only has one heart, after all."

Joker is still trying to recover from that brief bout of panic, and doesn't answer immediately. Arsene dissipates again, but Joker holds tight to the feeling of being Arsene as opposed to being Pixie.

He needs Arsene. He won't survive without Arsene.

"Are you okay?" Shadow asks, too perceptive. "Did that... hurt?"

Silently, Joker shakes his head.

He's a massive liar, but he's slowly getting used to being that.

It's only hours later that he stops freaking out for long enough to think it through. It feels like it's been hours, anyway. There's no way to tell time in the metaverse.

"How's our progress?" Joker asks Mona, on break in a safe room. Mona doesn't answer him right away, and Joker is too distracted to press him.

There was that voice that had spoken to him as he was dying. Not like a Persona does, but... something else. 'There is still a way we can be saved.'

If it had sent him back in time, maybe it'd given him this power, too. Maybe he'll need it. Mona certainly seems to think it's some kind of special ability.

He's not doing very well with it. Ever since he got Pixie, Joker keeps reaching for Arsene, paranoid that it'll disappear somehow because he has a new Persona. Mona has to keep reminding him to use Pixie to strike weaknesses, when Skull's attacks alone aren't enough. Joker knows Mona is getting sick of it.

"Right," Mona says, when everyone is gathered around the center table. "I know we're all tired, but we're doing great. We're definitely over halfway."

Skull groans. "Only halfway? How big is this thing?"

Pleasantly surprised, Joker refocuses on Mona. That amount of progress is shocking, honestly. He remembers how long it took the original Phantom Thieves to take down Kamoshida, how long they worked at it.

Then again, they'd had two less members and no hard deadline. Akira had been their voice of reason at the time. He'd kept Ryuji from confronting Kamoshida after... after Shiho jumped, which had given them time.

Akira is no longer the voice of reason. He might as well have spit in Kamoshida's face when the bastard tried to approach Shiho yesterday. He'll feel very responsible if they all get expelled.

They won't. Akira will make sure they won't. He has unfinished business in Tokyo.

Chapter Text

"Do you want to be a model?"

"Huh?" Ann frowns at him for the tangential question. "I'm already a model."

Akira bites his cheek. How to explain it?

Maybe he doesn't have to. He's no good at explanations. "Let's go see Yusuke."

This only makes her look more confused, but she follows him through the crowded mall without protest.

Yusuke is people-watching in the same place he usually is--Akira had seen him there on his way to meet up with Ann.

"Oh?" Yusuke says, upon noticing their approach. "Is there a meeting planned?"

"Just us three," Ann tells him, cheerful now that she's let go of her confusion. "Hey, Akira, I don't know what you want to talk about, but let's go somewhere, okay? It's way too crowded here."

"The diner?" Akira suggests. Yusuke looks far more interested all of a sudden. "My treat."

It's the rainy season, so the diner on Central Street is quieter than usual. Akira takes a moment to bask in the quiet as Yusuke orders.

Without giving context, he asks, "Yusuke, as an artist, how would you say Ann looks today?"

Ann frowns at him. "Hey! You can't just call me out like that."

Yusuke takes a moment to consider, completely ignoring her protest. He says, "It may simply be the dreary weather, but now that you say it, something is different."

"Um. Yeah," Ann says. "I'm more motivated than ever to work on modeling! I didn't expect you'd already be able to see results, though. I just started last week."

"I see," Yusuke says. "I am not aware of the routines of models, but whatever you're doing, it is working adversely."

Ann looks distressed. "Wait, really? Am I doing something wrong? But I'm doing everything like Mika said... I'm not that good at it, but it's supposed to help little bits at a time, right? I can't expect to change overnight."

Yusuke frowns. "You're trying to... change?"

He's invested now, to the point that he seems to have forgotten about everything else. Yusuke stares Ann down with that out of place intensity he always has.

"I'm bettering myself," Ann says proudly. She explains, "There's this other model I know, Mika, and she's working so hard! Even though her personality sucks, I admire that about her. I can't just skate by on my parents' connections, I have to put some effort in myself."

"Ann," Akira says again, more intently now. "Do you want to be a model?"

If she says yes, unequivocally, he'll accept that.

"I really don't know what you're getting at," Ann says. "Isn't that a weird question?"

"Is it?" Yusuke says quietly. "Or are you just not used to hearing it?"

Yusuke gets it. Akira leans back slightly, dropping his level of intensity. Of course Yusuke gets it.

"Well... Yeah," Ann says. "I'm already a model, so of course I'm not used to hearing it."

Yusuke glances at Akira, and Akira nods for him to continue.

"When... Madarame was arrested," Yusuke says, struggling with his words, "I had to face a great many things about my life that I took for granted."

Ann has a sympathetic draw to her brow, but she's clearly still lost on where this is going.

"For the first time in a decade, I had choices I never knew I could have. I chose art, of course. I will always choose to pursue beauty through art; I can't imagine living without it."

Ann nods. This is a surprise to no one.

"Ann," Yusuke says, "when were you last asked what you wanted your future to look like?"

It's not an immediate realization. Ann thinks about it, then thinks about it harder, all the while looking more distressed. "I... uh..."

She catches the look Yusuke and Akira exchange, and sets her jaw. "Well, I remember in elementary school, I..."

Her face falls slowly into resignation as she trails off. "Okay. Maybe Akira's question wasn't that weird. But in that case, I do want to be a model. I mean, I'm really good at it, aren't I?"

She grins at them in a way that looks very real, despite the look on her face just a few seconds ago.

Akira interlaces his fingers, speaking quietly. "You are, but..."

A moment of silence.

Her face falls. "I mean... Now that I've said that, it doesn't really sound right... Look, I may not know how to put it into words, but that doesn't change the fact that I want to be a model."

"You want to be admired," Akira says, in such a soft voice that it could be mistaken for agreement.

"That's right!" Ann says. "So you do remember. I was... kind of starting to doubt that. I want to be the sort of person little girls can look up to."

She sounds so happy. It's a stark contrast from when she's talking about the details of modeling.

"A worthy dream," Yusuke says.

The waiter delivers the food Yusuke ordered, and both Ann and Yusuke are distracted. Akira lets them enjoy their food for a bit.

"Oh, right," Ann says after a minute, sheepish. "I ordered that hot chocolate, but you should take it, Yusuke. I've been trying to watch what I eat recently. I'm getting better at it! I just forget sometimes."

"I will not protest," Yusuke says, accepting the mug. He does look questioning.

Ann beams at Akira. "See that? See how strong my heart was just there?"

Akira closes his eyes briefly. If someone Ann barely knows can change her career direction just by being mean, he can have the same influence by being kind. It's not pointless, and she's one of best friends, he's not butting into anything she hasn't asked him to butt into.

"I'm worried," he says. "You don't seem happy anymore, modeling."

Yusuke looks between them with sharp eyes.

Ann draws back. "I... don't seem happy? That's..."

"You liked it, right?" Akira says.

"Well... Yeah," Ann says. "I mean, I do like it. I'm just taking it more seriously. More effort is good, right?"

She sounds doubtful of her own words now, like she's really trying to believe them and Akira keeps getting in the way.

He's historically good at getting in the way.

Ann has stopped eating, lost in thought. "If I'm not having fun anymore at the shoots... That just means I'm growing up, right? Working for the results instead of the work itself is normal."

Yusuke puts his forkful of hamburger steak down in order to tell her, "You don't have to do something just because it's considered the norm."

"You don't have to commit to anything," Akira says. "There's still time left to decide what you want to do. Try to find something you like doing, instead of resigning yourself to a job your parents got you when you were a kid."

He feels out of place by the end of that speech. Even with Yoshida's guidance, Akira doubts he'll ever be good at speeches. Any confidence he'd had at the start tapered off quickly as he spoke.

"Resigning myself..." Ann murmurs at the tabletop. "Is that really what I've been doing?"

"I believe that is the reason you looked different to us both today," Yusuke muses. "There is normally a certain brightness to you, one that is lacking now."

Ann's face draws tight.

Yusuke continues without heeding it. "Your self-confidence, which you so easily condemn, is a beauty on its own, and I believe it's what made you stand out so starkly from the crowd. Your allure and inspiration as a model--in the world of art, at least--is in your spirit, not in your features."

"Not that you're not pretty," Akira adds quickly, "but that's not why kids are going to admire you. Didn't you say that?"

"The person I wanted to become when I was a little girl," Ann says quietly, "that had nothing to do with looks. I admired her strength, and how she never gave up, no matter what."

Yusuke is silent--listening attentively. This is news to him, Akira realizes.

"There's lots of ways to give kids hope," Akira says.

Ann sighs deeply. "That's nice and all, but... modeling is the only thing I'm good at. It's the one thing I know I can do right."

She really seems upset about it now.

"Why do you need to know?" Yusuke asks mildly.

Ann looks at him.

"Without taking risks in your art, you will never create anything new," Yusuke says, his tone pitched like he's sharing words of wisdom. "To grow and improve, you must dare to go where you've never gone before, and risk failure in the process. Isn't this the same?"

"So..." Ann stares at an empty cup, avoiding both of their gazes. "If I told you I wanted to be an action star, what would you say?"

"I look forward to it," Yusuke says. He's calm and assured. It's already a done deal for him.

When Akira looks at Ann again, her eyes are glimmering. "Oh," she says quietly. She sniffles. "Even though everyone says my acting is terrible?"

Akira rests his chin on his palm. His gaze pierces her soul. "Ann. Do you want to be a model?"

"... No," she says. Then, louder, "No! I want to be a movie star. I want people to admire my skills, not how I naturally look."

Her jaw is set, like she's expecting a rebuttal, and she's refusing to hear it already.

Akira smiles. It's his first real smile today.

"I'm sure any movie you star in would be a work of art," Yusuke says.

"You don't have to commit yet," Akira says. "I know your conviction can get you anywhere you want. You only have to make sure you want to be there."

Ann wipes the tears from her face. "Yeah," she says.

She waves over the waiter and orders another hot chocolate.

Chapter Text

Today is a bad day, and Joker is really trying his best to not pay it any mind.

It's just pain. Pain is nothing on its own. When it's a signal there's something wrong, it should be acknowledged, but if it's not that, why should it bother him?

Futaba's palace has a lot of stairs, is all.

Joker bites his tongue hard to avoid making any noise as he places his foot wrong, and the dull ache in his leg spikes into a burning pain. The sting left behind by his teeth is distracting enough, and Joker can keep going.

He can. He absolutely can.

(Akira goes down, and doesn't get back up.)

It's not a good day, but it shouldn't affect the infiltration.

Joker is so focused on keeping pace with the other members of the vanguard, step after step, that he doesn't even notice for several seconds that they've entered a safe room.

Ryuji isn't a huge fan of this new palace. First there was the heat outside, which they have to go out into every time they leave the palace, and then there's the endless amount of climbing and crawling they have to do to get through this damn tomb.

It'll all be worth it, he tells himself, as he collapses gratefully onto a stone block in the safe room.

It's not the most comfortable, so Ryuji doesn't blame Joker for sitting down against the wall instead.

"Let's take a break," Queen says.

No span of time specified. Ryuji used to hate that during track practice.

This isn't school, though, not even with Miss Student Council President running the team. Ryuji knows by now that Queen won't just end the break whenever she feels like it. She'll call them round whatever works as a table in the safe room, and ask how everyone is doing, before she decides on their next course of action. If it's like that, the lack of detail is fine.

Ryuji has never been any good at resting properly, so he glances around to see who's free for him to talk at.

Panther is messing around on her phone. Ryuji still doesn't know what kinda 'bypass' Joker put on it, but looks like it's working.

She's been into drawing on her phone, lately. She's been avoiding Yusuke about it, because, as she claimed to Ryuji, she's not going to pretend to know anything about actual art. Which even Ryuji knows is bullshit.

Joker's form catches his eye again. He has one knee pulled up to his chest, resting his chin on it. Ryuji frowns.

Joker doesn't look great. And despite what Ryuji always makes sure to tell him, that's not actually very common. Joker manages to make even that terrible outfit look stylish when he's wearing it.

It's familiar, is the problem, Ryuji realizes with a jolt. Not just in the 'Joker is feeling bad' way he's come to recognize over the past couple months, but familiar to Ryuji himself.

"Hey, dude," he says, taking a few steps to sit down next to Joker. Joker nods at him.

Bad sign to start with. Joker is always more likely to say shit in the metaverse, even if he still doesn't talk as much as Ryuji.

"Did you get hurt while I wasn't lookin'?" he says casually. He deliberately doesn't look right at Joker.

The way Joker is hugging his leg to his chest is way, way too familiar for Ryuji to let it pass by.

When Joker doesn't immediately answer, Ryuji turns his head. Joker looks like a doe in the headlights.

"You know we got medicine and stuff," Ryuji tells him. "You're the one who brings most of it."

"Yeah," Joker murmurs. "It's not..."

Ryuji stares him down with intent. If Joker is about to say 'not worth treating' or some bullshit like that, he's handing Joker over to Mona without any remorse.

He's been there. Ryuji has thought that before, too many times, even after his dad had already left. The first time he'd said it out loud, his mom had immediately scolded him for it. She'd told Ryuji that no matter how minor the pain, he doesn't deserve to feel bad.

That conversation has never left his mind.

"It's recurring," Joker says finally. He's no longer looking at Ryuji.

"Dude," Ryuji says, dismayed. "Does Queen know, at least? She's supposed to know this kinda stuff."

She's personally lectured Ryuji about not mentioning his old injury. He didn't think it would be a big deal, but obviously it is--this conversation just reinforces it in Ryuji's mind. It's easier to recognize it as a big deal when it's not him.

Joker ducks his head.

"Dude," Ryuji says.

"There's no point in her worrying, when no one can do anything about it," Joker says, like it's some wisdom he's imparting. Horseshit.

"You know I know about that stuff," Ryuji tells him, tapping a meaningless pattern on his own bad leg. "I would've listened."

"I didn't want you to think I was mocking you," Joker says. Ryuji does a double take at that.

"Besides," Joker says, "It's not real. Not like yours."

Yeah, Ryuji had a feeling he was going to like Joker's next comment even less.

Ryuji touches their shoulders together, to soften the impact of the glare he's throwing Joker.

"Pain is pain," Ryuji says to him. "You should've told us."

Joker frowns at him.

"It gets worse when you use it, right?" Ryuji says. "So if the pain gets too bad, Queen's gonna switch you out. That's what backup is for."

It makes perfect sense to Ryuji, mostly because Queen had explained it that way to him, way back when. Joker isn't on the same page.

"It's just pain," he says. "Nothing's damaged. It's not going to help to sideline me."

Ryuji does consider this. Joker would know his own body the best, and if he's saying the pain doesn't get better with resting...

That's not what he's saying, though. He's calling the pain fake.

"Yeah, well, we'll see what Queen has to say about that," Ryuji says. He's not above tattling to their leader.

Joker slumps in defeat.

Chapter Text

Akechi is invited to the Phantom Thieves' celebration, after Shido confesses his crimes. It still feels ridiculous. He had to have done something right, for them to treat him like a part of the team, but he doesn't know what he did, and as such also has no clue what would eventually undo it. Surely this charade can't last.

Perhaps Akechi should be preoccupied with Shido's confession. He should feel something at seeing his lifelong enemy beg for forgiveness from the country he'd wronged. He doesn't. He looks at the live broadcast and doesn't have even a flicker of emotion to spare for the man.

Akechi had never seriously thought about what he'd do after he killed Shido. Maybe because, bravado aside, he never seriously thought that he'd succeed. Now that he has, there's nothing.

There's nothing except the Phantom Thieves.

Futaba starts crying halfway through Boss' attempt at a speech, choking out something about her mother. As Makoto comforts her, Akechi feels undeniably out of place sitting at the counter. He shouldn't be here.

His gaze slides to the only other person set apart from the celebrations, off to the side and unnoticed for the moment.

Joker meets his gaze briefly. He's not smiling like everyone else is. He's leaning on the counter in a way that indicates exhaustion rather than relaxation.

That's the other reason Akechi is still here, aside from having nowhere else to go--this isn't over. Joker knows it, and he makes it perfectly clear to those who care to look, which apparently includes Akechi and only Akechi.

He's reminded of his most recent near-death experience. His most frustrating one yet.

In hindsight, Akechi is willing to admit that he may not have had the best reaction to Joker and his posse showing up in Shido's palace. He still thinks it justified. Not only had Joker risked both of their lives again in order to meet up with his friends, but as far as Akechi had known at the time, Joker was intentionally holding back information about a third party that could be a threat to them both.

So he'd reacted strongly; and who could blame him?

He'd course-corrected as soon as he'd deduced what was actually happening--Joker's odd word choice, the off tone he'd thought was disgust, all the odd remarks he had been forced to dismiss in the past for lack of context.

The nonsense Joker had been spouting while he was drugged wasn't nonsense, even if Akechi hasn't found what he was talking about, no matter how many people he digs his teeth into.

The surprise on the faces of the other Phantom Thieves when he'd accepted their 'help' was satisfying in its own way. Though, in the end his scorn had been proven wrong, since against all odds they'd managed to change Shido's heart.

Of course, it isn't over. None of this is over.

He still hates these people, but his priorities have shifted. It's fascinating, really, how Akechi spent all year itching to fight them, and then when he finally got the chance, he'd let it go in favor of the mystery Joker dangled before him. In some ways--more ways than Akechi is willing to admit--Joker has him wrapped around his finger.

Since the moment they'd met, Joker has represented a mystery.

Akechi doesn't know Joker, but the fact that he recognizes that in itself means he knows Joker better than anyone else does.

Chapter Text

They find Akechi in the engine room. Or, rather, Akechi finds them.

Shido's palace is more dangerous than anything they've faced before, and they've decided to stay together, sacrificing subtlety for safety in numbers. As a group of nine, they're not great at sneaking around, so it should be no surprise that their target is the one who finds them.

"The illustrious Phantom Thieves, finally back together." Akechi's voice is all sharp edges.

The Phantom Thieves as a whole tense, shifting into offensive positions when he approaches. Joker and Oracle are the only ones who don't bother.

Joker is too relieved at Crow's appearance to feel anything else. The further they got into the palace, the more dangerous it got, and Joker couldn't imagine Crow taking all those enemies on by himself. Clearly, though, he has.

He has four letters of introductions on his person, according to the gossiping passengers. Queen had concluded that, of the five VIPs they'd heard about, it would make sense to leave the cleaner for last--so after they asked around, they'd headed straight for that cognition. And it had worked out.

Of course it had. Queen's plans always do.

Crow hadn't died while he was taking on the palace alone, and he won't die now, with everyone to back him up. Joker can't bring himself to relax quite yet, and he probably won't stop worrying about Crow disappearing for another week, but they'll be okay now. He needs to believe that.

Obviously, Crow disagrees. "You have no idea what you're interfering in. Stay out of this."

"This is our business as much as it is yours," Queen argues.

"Yeah, in case you forgot," Panther says, "you and Shido set us up to take the blame for the mental shutdowns. You involved us yourself."

When Crow speaks, it feels like he's addressing Joker only, ignoring the other Thieves. "I don't recall inviting you. This is my fight, and if you intend to stand in my way I won't hesitate to take you out too."

He looks significantly worse than he did yesterday. It's not immediately obvious, with his bright metaverse outfit drawing the attention, but Joker knows what to look for. Small injuries mar Crow's skin, from scrapes to a burn to a brand new bruise, and there are dark rings around his eyes that are visible even with his mask on. The way he's moving looks uncharacteristically careful. Joker knows what pain looks like.

He's alive, and he's right there, in front of Joker. That's what matters.

Joker isn't used to taking the initiative. He doesn't realize it's what they're all expecting him to do until, after several seconds of silence, Queen catches his eye and throws him a meaningful glance.

This was kind of his idea. He can't fault the assumption.

"Crow," he says. It's barely audible over the whir of the engines, so Joker tries again. "Crow. We're here to help."

"Yeah," Skull instantly backs him up. "We want to change that bastard Shido's heart just as much as you do."

"You have no idea what I want," Crow hisses. "I've been working towards a single goal all these years, and you will not take it away from me."

"Aren't you trying to take down Shido?" Queen presses. "We have the same goal."

Crow laughs, but he doesn't even look at her when he says, "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to look him in the eyes, make him realize exactly whom he wronged, and destroy him." His glare is locked on Joker. "You should know by now what I'm capable of."

Joker's jaw clenches at the growled words. Crow doesn't understand. He has to make Crow understand.

Eyes narrowing, Crow says, "Or do I have to show you?"

"You're not seriously going to 9v1 us?" Oracle asks, incredulous. In response, Crow bares his teeth.

It's a spur of the moment decision, driven by frustration, and maybe not Joker's smartest move. "It must've been awful," he says, voice as even as he can make it. "Living under Shido's purview, abiding by his every whim, and never being able to tell anyone what you're really doing."

It hurts too much to stay quiet, even as every word sets off alarm bells in his head. His hands stay at his sides, clenched into fists.

"You fucked it all up, Joker," Crow spits. "You just had to go sacrifice yourself, when I was so close to gaining Shido's trust. Do you even realize how many years of planning you ruined? I was going to break him. Now I'll have to settle for killing him."

There's a rushing in his ears and a stutter in his chest that Joker isn't sure he entirely keeps out of his voice, when he says, "You can ask for help."

His intonation is uneven, to the point that he fears it comes across as unsure.

What he means is, I can't ask for help.

Joker needs Crow to understand. He presses, "Shido's influence doesn't pass into the Metaverse. He doesn't know what happens here."

Something hangs between them. Or is Joker imagining it?

"Let us help," Joker hears himself say, even as his thoughts diverge entirely, and his eyes plead.

"Don't make me laugh," Crow scoffs. "You don't even have the slightest idea of what you're up against if you still think you can 'change his heart'."

"So tell us," Joker insists. "He can't stop you here."

Something in Crow's face sharpens in a way Joker recognizes, and he hopes. A heavy silence settles over the rumbling of the engines, and Joker thinks, please.

Out of everyone, Crow is the closest to understanding. He has information Joker never meant to give, knowledge that Joker still can't believe he hasn't been killed over after speaking it aloud.

For the first time since confronting them, Crow's eyes shift and trail over the rest of the Phantom Thieves. They're tense, but they've been silent, for some reason trusting Joker to handle this. Like he knows how to handle anything. Like he hasn't been falling into situation after situation without a clue, scrambling for purchase and finding none.

Crow takes a step forward, and around Joker, the Phantom Thieves snap into defensive positions. He only scoffs at them.

"I'm willing to hear it," he says, and he deliberately doesn't look at Joker. "What's your plan, then? Shido didn't make it to the top of the political world for nothing. Assassinating him is one thing, but the man will not crumble as easily as your other targets did."

The wave of gratitude that crashes over Joker has him off balance. Crow has noticed. Crow has clocked his behavior as decidedly wrong, and figured out enough to know he can't risk blatantly asking again like he had before, over the curry they'd shared.

Akira hears people responding behind him, but they sound like they're underwater. There's a degree of surprise, mixed tones, but whatever words they're saying are muffled and choked to Akira's ears.

The world rushes in again all at once when Crow makes a cut-off noise and collapses to his knees, his hand coming up to clutch at his torso. In between one breath and the next, the white fabric under his hand becomes red, the bloodstain spilling from under his fingers and spreading over his chest.

"How adorable," Crow's voice says, and a familiar figure comes to stand over Crow. Their shocked silence lets his voice ring through the empty space.

The fake Akechi holds the gun like he's taking Crow hostage, but he has none of the desperation or calculation that cornered shadows have. The grin on his face is purely malicious, and his eyes are empty. At his back is a crowd of shadows. He looks entirely out of place in his school uniform.

Kikuri-hime appears in a flash of blue, lifting a hand to heal even as Cognitive Akechi lazily lifts his gun and shoots her in the chest. Joker flinches once, twice, the pain radiating from his own chest clouding his thoughts.

There's movement in the corner of his eye, but Queen barks, "Don't! You can't interrupt his healing-"

At the same time, Crow rasps out, "So this... is how he planned to get rid of me, if I got too close." He chuckles. "A puppet."

It's good that he's strong enough to laugh. Kikuri-hime whispers to him that the bullet tore through Crow's lungs, so the fact that he can talk at all is a good sign.

"Look at yourself," Cognitive Akechi says, scornful, as he aims the gun down again. "I'm only as much a puppet as you are. You know what that means, don't you? I'll do anything."

"Wait!" Panther calls, desperation in her voice as she practically lunges forward to come face to face with Cognitive Akechi. "You're... Shido's cognitive version of Akechi, aren't you? If... If Shido thought Akechi would betray him, why are you still working for him? You don't actually want to kill your real self, do you?"

The cognitive Akechi hesitates slightly, but Joker sees what Panther doesn't.

Logic won't matter. The fundamental rules of palaces don't matter. The Prison Master has long since twisted everything to its will, and if it wants Crow dead, Crow shall die. That kind of blatant cheating is what had made Crow disappear.

In the moment that Cognitive Akechi takes to answer, Joker forces his clenched hands away from his chest and to his own gun. He goes for the throat.

Chapter Text

The school council president is the first to disappear from school and Akira's periphery. A few days later, it's Takamaki that's missing. Then it's Akechi.

None of them give any indication that they're going somewhere. One day they're there, and the next they're gone. Akira doesn't even suspect they're gone gone for days. Why would he? He's fully unprepared for the national news that the Phantom Thieves' leader was caught and committed suicide in custody.

Futaba, in the rare moments he sees her, doesn't look like someone whose friends died recently. She looks pretty self-satisfied, actually. Akira tries to put a lock on his worries. Life goes on.

Weeks later, the members of the Phantom Thieves announce on that same national news that they're all alive and that they're going to steal another heart, and a weight lifts from Akira's chest. Takamaki even comes back to class.

Akechi doesn't come back.

Akira never sees Akechi again. Not in Leblanc, not with the Phantom Thieves, not even on TV. It's like no one even remembers him. Like he never existed.

People stop talking about the Phantom Thieves, too. They're mentioned only by people reassuring others that they're no big deal. Not even then do they mention the detective that used to be famous for opposing them.

When he catches Futaba, in those final few days where he only sees her rushing off or sleeping face-down in her curry, he asks her why no one is talking about the Phantom Thieves anymore.

She gives him a small, exhausted smile. "Someone is messing with the NPCs' code, but don't worry. You can count on us."

It's so matter-of-fact that Akira wholeheartedly believes her.

"Is that also why they stopped talking about Akechi on TV?" he asks tentatively. She stops smiling.

"Oh. Him." Futaba takes an overly large bite of curry.

Futaba has never liked Akechi or his frequent visits to Leblanc, which is fair. Akira has never liked him either. But she wouldn't be delaying answering him if it was just dislike that was the problem.

The worry creeps around his throat and threatens to choke. His face is deceptively blank.

"Don't worry about him," Futaba says, seeing right through him. "You're friends, right? He wouldn't want you to worry."

She sounds doubtful herself, and Akira wants to tell her that Akechi would probably be delighted to cause Akira problems. The words get stuck in his throat.

"Do you know where he is?" falls from his lips instead.

Futaba hesitates. "I don't think he's coming back."

Her voice is almost gentle. It's laughable, when she's usually blunt to the point of offense. Akira doesn't laugh.

He holds his tongue and starts making Futaba another cup of coffee. She looks like she could use it.

Her words could mean a lot of things, but Akira gets stuck on how Akechi didn't even tell him. He didn't leave a single hint to his disappearance. His last message to Akira, one Akira has looked at a dozen times by now, is "See you tomorrow." That jazz club date came and went with no indication that it would be the last. Not a word about going anywhere.

Did Akechi just not think to let him know he would be leaving? Did he assume Akira would forget about him? Akira was so sure that they'd been friends. At odds, yes, but that was the foundation of their whole relationship. They'd both been fine with it.

Was Akira wrong about that? Should he have been clearer that they were friends? He didn't think it needed to be said, but friends tell their friends when they move, or run away, or whatever Akechi did.

He hands Futaba her usual with a smile.

He's worked customer service in five different places. It's a practiced smile. When he's putting effort in, it's very believable.

Futaba relaxes as he does, slumping back into her seat. Akira watches her tired eyes and doesn't bring it up again.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, Akira can't find his will of rebellion through the fear.

It's still there. He knows that, because in the metaverse, his outfit never flickers. No matter what he's feeling, there's more conviction in him than there'd been the day he died. That has to be a good thing.

It's... hard to believe it. He feels so small and inadequate faced with any enemy, as if all of them are the Prison Master, there to kill him. If he can't even win against enemies this weak, how is he supposed to win against that? He was just the last Persona user to die to it. He's here by coincidence, with nothing and no one backing him up, and anyone could do this better than him. But no one else had.

He does win against the enemy, every single time they clash, but that doesn't seem to matter. The way he feels about fighting refuses to change.

It'll get easier, he tells himself over and over. He'll get stronger, and Kamoshida's shadow guards won't even be worth his time.

Joker thinks he's pretty good at looking calm for the most part, since he can't afford to give anything away. He's never actually calm, though, and he can't keep that facade up all the time. If he could just keep it together, he'd be more efficient. He'd get stronger.

Struggling to stand up, Joker swivels his gaze to the enemy. The enemy with Light attacks that burn like hell, the enemy that seems to hate him especially. Joker's chest, the hollow space behind his ribs, it feels like it's being torn apart from the inside out.

The shadow bares its teeth at him, and he snarls back. He brings up his gun and shoots it full of bullets. When it falls to the ground, he launches himself at it. It needs to die before he does.

Panther says something. Joker's brain is too scattered to make much sense of it. He clings to Arsene, and puts everything he has into his attack. It's not enough.

That's not right. No, it is enough, Joker's knife tore through it like paper, and it's dead. It's gone. But it doesn't feel like enough.

"Holy crap," Panther says, too close, and Joker's hands itch to stab her.

He doesn't. He puts his knife away and turns to pick up his dropped gun, as if everything is fine.

Everything is fine.

"It worked, didn't it?" says Skull, vaguely defensive.

"I'm not complaining," Panther said. "Just... Geez. Joker is usually... Well, in the real world..."

"Oh yeah, you're in the same class," Skull says. "Wish I was in class with any of you guys. School might suck a little less."

Joker looks up to see Shadow chewing her lip. When she happens to meet his eyes, she says, "Sorry for overreacting."

Since he didn't even see her reaction, Joker shrugs. He's going to keep insisting everything is fine. If Skull believes it, he can convince the rest. He can convince the Prison Master. Maybe he can even convince himself.

The days are going too quickly. He's not growing fast enough. A thousand other dark thoughts in the same vein fester like an untreated injury.

He just needs some time to get it together. It's time he doesn't have.

Chapter Text

It becomes abundantly clear to Akechi that Joker's reaction in the engine room was not a result of the cognitive Persona ability, nor a one-off occurrence.

"Joker is shaken! He might do something reckless!" Oracle calls.

Akechi doesn't have more than a split second to wonder at the warning, because he's dodging the six-armed demon's blades again. This shadow is one of the tougher opponents he's seen. Tough doesn't usually mean much of anything when faced with Joker's team, but this one is immune to its brains being blown out.

"Crow!" Queen calls, like he's not busy right now- "On your left!"

Akechi dodges in time for Arsene's curse attack to fly past him and blind the enemy. Even though Akechi had already tried that the very first time he fought this type, and it had barely blinked at Loki's curse moves, it reels back at this one, yelling something incomprehensible.

Arsene doesn't exactly return to Joker--Joker uses his grappling hook to join his Persona, meeting the point of impact feet-first and tackling the demon to the marble floor.

Akechi will admit to staring, even as Queen quickly increases their defense and Shadow comes to physically drag Joker off the enemy, in and out in seconds like she's had to do this before. Ariadne covers her, pointing a newly materialized sword at the downed enemy's throat. That won't stall it for long.

"Try out if it's weak to bless attacks," Queen calls at him, rifling through her inventory of items.

"Robin Hood!" Akechi calls. It's not, weak to Bless that is, but Queen is the type of leader that would see rather than hear that information. It'll still do damage, anyway.

"Incoming," Oracle says happily, and Fox and Skull both fall in line to replace Shadow and Joker.

The battle doesn't last long after that. A shame; Akechi was actually starting to enjoy himself.

Joker smiles weakly as he approaches, and Akechi experiences a second of derealization when he realizes no one is stopping him from reaching Joker. Even Noir, who was knocked out earlier and is still slowly recovering, doesn't so much as flinch as he passes by her, close enough to reach out and touch.

With every fight, he gets more incredulous. Not only at their trust of him, but at his previous cluelessness.

Sae's palace had been perfunctory. There'd been nothing approaching a challenge in the enemies there, and they had never truly been vulnerable. They'd breezed through it like they had been born for metaverse infiltration.

Shido's is different.

Seeing the Phantom Thieves being obviously vulnerable, without them guarding against Akechi like he's going to attack them at their weakest... It's unexpected. It's foolish. It's nice.

"Down there, in the bowels of the ship," Akechi starts conversationally, "I thought the fake Loki got you."

He leans on the curved wall of the planter, his arms crossed. Joker looks up at him, interested.

It's not like Joker doesn't understand, so Akechi refrains from pointing out that complete disregard for one's health is not a normal reaction to fear.

Anger is a normal reaction. Akechi can attest to that much. But even when he's hit by the Fear ailment, he stays on the defensive and watches for an opening. He doesn't throw himself open-armed at the danger like Joker consistently seems to. He's sure Joker isn't actively suicidal, so that kind of intense reaction...

Here's the problem: he'd been under the impression that Joker's trauma reactions were under control, manageable. He'd assumed that Joker has had time to adjust and learn how to deal with the effects. It's a blow to Akechi's pride to realize he might've been projecting, on top of being completely off the mark.

How could he have thought any different, though? Joker functions perfectly well in reality.

Joker says, "Is there any advantage to making the enemy go berserk?"

Akechi scoffs. "Only exactly what you experienced for yourself. It was specifically aiming for me, and still you came out of that fight more hurt than I did. It hit you, what, once? Twice?" He makes sure he pitches his words to sound derogatory.

Joker looks away. "I guess."

Honestly, 'I guess'. Akechi rolls his eyes. One of these days, Joker is going to lunge into the arms of death and not come back.

"Be more careful," he bites out.

He still needs Joker.

Chapter Text

"What do you need me for, anyway?" Ryuji asks.

He tries not to be self-depreciating, but the thought creeps in anyway. Why him?

"Oh, you're just my pack mule," Crow says lightly. "We have to bring the tokens with us, don't we?"

Ryuji forgets all about the self-deprecation. He just wants to punch the guy now.

"Ugh," he grumbles. "Oracle was right. You're giving way too many orders for a newbie."

Something has been bugging him, though, and now that he's away from the group, alone with Crow, it comes to the forefront of his mind.

Crow would know, wouldn't he? He's asked Mona before, and Mona doesn't remember, but Crow clearly does.

Crow smooth-talks his way into getting a large bag and a trolley loaned to them. They'll need to walk around to the back to pick up the trolley.

"Hey," Ryuji says suddenly, and it surprises even himself. "What you said, about how you awakened to your Persona..."

Crow gives him a sidelong glance. "Yes?"

Ryyji hesitates, in a rare moment where he wants to pick his words carefully.

"If you're going to ask me again, no, I don't have a clue to what the true culprit looked like under the mask," Crow says.

That sparks irritation. "I know that," Ryuji says hotly. "It's just... most of us awakened to our Persona with backup... backing us. You know?"

"Sure," Crow agrees.

"I was the second one to awaken," Ryuji says, "and at that point even Mona was there already to back me up. But Joker... Joker was the first of us, and he was on his own. I mean, I was there, but we were strangers and I was still just some high school kid. I wasn't any sort of backup."

Crow is actively looking at him now. Ryuji feels uncomfortable under that gaze. He busies himself with picking a trolley out of the stack.

"I guess I just wanted to ask," Ryuji says, "Getting your Persona on your own, did that change the way you think about it? Did it change your fighting style?"

Crow considers him for too long.

"I see," he says finally. "You mean to say that Joker and I are similar in that respect."

Ryuji nods impatiently.

"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint--after all, how would I tell whether my awakening falls into the 'norm' or not? I have nothing to compare it to."

This guy. Ryuji huffs.

He considers giving Crow more to work with, but that would mean putting his own awakening into words, and Ryuji isn't sure at all that he can do that.

"Whatever," he says. "Forget about it."

"If you say so," Crow says mildly.

They barely exchange two words after that, until Crow says, in the middle of collecting the dice game tokens, "You have me curious. What about Joker's awakening was so different that you'd still be concerned about it, even now?"

Ryuji blinks as he realizes Crow read him like an open book. He scowls. "I said, forget about it."

"Indulge me," Crow says.

"It's just," Ryuji waves a vague hand, "it's supposed to be this moment of triumph and freedom, right? You feel like you can do anything when you get a Persona."

"Right," Crow says.

"Right!" Ryuji nods, relieved to be understood. "But Joker? He was scared out of his mind. And Arsene stuck around basically until we made it out of the castle. As in, physically. I didn't realize it was weird back then cause I had no idea what was going on, but no one else kept their Persona real for that long. Joker, he had to unlearn it."

Crow strikes a thinking pose. The tokens lie forgotten to the side. "Arsene was what Joker originally awakened to, then?"

Ryuji nods. Keep up, Crow. "Any of that sounding familiar?"

"I can't say it does." Crow hums. "It's curious. My experience sounds more similar to yours rather than his."

Ryuji slumps. It's something else to worry about, then. No simple answers.

Crow adds, "My apologies for not having the answers you were looking for."

"Joker's going to give me grey hair by the time I'm thirty," Ryuji complains.

Crow chuckles.

Chapter Text

That first day passes in a haze of confusion, anxiety, and lethargy. Boss takes one look at him and shooes him up to his room, except it's not his room and nothing is the same.

He can't remember what's so wrong about all of this, why he keeps stumbling over his words and why the hollow ache in his chest never wanes for a moment. He feels ill and off. The blue fire that used to flicker at the edges of his vision is gone. When he sleeps, in a room cluttered and covered in dirt, he doesn't dream.

Or, more accurately, he doesn't wake up. He can hear someone familiar yelling at him, sounding annoyed, hitting the bars, but he can't muster up the motivation to open his eyes and look.

He drifts through the next day in a haze of spinning thoughts, and--

(Sojiro will tell him how relieved he was, when he went to school and finally came home with life in his eyes. He was near unresponsive those first few days. Sojiro still doesn't know what got him out of it.)

--meets with his teacher, who acts like she doesn't know him, sees the school he's supposed to transfer into despite already being a student there, can't think through the ache of pain and fog and loss.

They took something from him. Something vital.

He forgets to bring an umbrella.

It's ridiculous, in hindsight. He knew it was going to rain today, and he knew he'd be caught in it on the way to school.

Knowing is different than actively realizing something. He's still trying to make sense of where he is and what he's supposed to do here.

The first raindrops land in his hair just outside of the station, and he stops, and looks up at the sky.

It's normal rainwater. Of course it is, it's normal rainwater today.

He only thinks to step out of the rain when a droplet hits his eye with direct force, and he blinks aggressively to get rid of the sting of it.

There's an overhang next to him. It's not the right overhang, so he keeps walking.

The next overhang has a blond girl already sheltering beneath it. He slips into cover, standing beside her. She doesn't even look at him.

He wants to say something, almost opens his mouth, but he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do here. The world is still spinning around him and the empty space in his chest aches.

A car pulls up to the curb, splashing rainwater at their feet. He looks down at the forming puddles.

"Hey, need a ride?" a familiar voice says jovially. The trickster lifts his gaze to stare.

Kamoshida isn't looking at him. He's looking at Takamaki.

"Uh, that's okay," Takamaki says with a smile that could be described as awkward. "I wouldn't want to impose."

"Come on, you're gonna be late to school with this downpour," Kamoshida persists, grinning. "It's no problem."

The trickster can see Takamaki's smile shuttering, and the way she steps forward as if to accept the offer.

Kamoshida has noticed the staring. "What, you need a ride too?"

It's less friendly, and bordering on sarcastic. The trickster says yes, thank you for the offer.

Kamoshida flounders, looking at Takamaki. The trickster wonders if Kamoshida will rescind the offer, will pick favorites in a public place like this.

"Get in, then. We don't have all day." Kamoshida's voice is much less upbeat. He must be upset that he lost time with his favorite doll.

Takamaki shoots him a look he can't decipher, but he doesn't think it's a negative one.

Kamoshida's moment of hesitation lasted long enough that the trickster hears splashing coming towards the car as he's getting in. The footsteps slow to a walk, then a halt. "Hey, there's one more space in there, yeah? Give me a ride too. I'm getting soaked."

Sakamoto's voice is just as ingenuine as Kamoshida's, and he manages to sound protective. Of them both. The trickster knows that nothing Sakamoto tries here will stop Kamoshida, but it's a nice thought.

Kamoshida visibly grits his teeth. "You should learn some respect for your superiors, Sakamoto." It's a threat.

Sakamoto is already opening the back door on the other side. "Great, thanks!"

His careless demeanor is almost enough to cause a smile to slip onto the trickster's lips. This is familiar.

He'll do better.

The whole wire-tense ride to school is spent with Sakamoto glancing at him, glancing at Takamaki, opening his mouth to say something, then obviously thinking better of it and snapping it shut again.

Takamaki chats lightly with the others in the car, and even though most of it is an act put on for Kamoshida, the unhappy downturn of her lips has eased. The trickster is glad for it.

When they pull up to the school, Kamoshida unlocks the passenger door first, and smiles and waves to Takamaki as she gathers her bag and runs up the steps. Then he turns to look over his shoulder at the two boys, still locked in the back seat.

"You better stop wasting my time if you don't want to be punished further," he warns, something dark on his face. "Delinquents like you two aren't given the benefit of the doubt."

With that last threat, he lets the boys open the car doors. He barely waits until the doors close behind them before he drives off to park it.

Sakamoto turns to where the trickster stepped out, scowling, and says, "You see what-"

He isn't there anymore, having left while Sakamoto was watching the car. He's halfway through the entrance already. His body guides him on autopilot towards the faculty office.

He wants, wants, wants, he's not supposed to stay in the real world, he doesn't belong here, but at the same time, a strong aversion takes him by the throat. As much as he wants to enter the metaverse, he wants to avoid it forever.

The confusion is fading, but the ache in his chest hasn't let up. Nothing could fix that.

Sakamoto waits to ambush him in front of the school, when the school day is over.

"Look," he says, "you're the new transfer student, yeah? The one with the criminal record and all that shit?"

The trickster blinks at him.

"You should stay away from Kamoshida," Sakamoto advises, not an ounce of hesitation in his eyes, even though he just confirmed for himself that he's speaking to the student with a criminal past. "If you got into that car to try and protect Takamaki, I really admire that, man. Still. That bastard does what he wants, thinks he's the king of Shujin or something. You shouldn't get on his bad side."

"I think it's too late for that," the trickster says, his voice too soft for the statement to feel definitive.

Something buzzes in his pocket, and he startles. No one ever texts him anymore.

He pulls out his phone, ignoring Sakamoto's complicated expression in response to his words.

The palace app is glowing.

Right. He didn't think. There's keywords, and Sakamoto has said almost all of them.

His eyes linger over the bright red icon, while his fingers shrink away from it. It's looking back at him.

He can't avoid this.

"This place does seem like his castle," the trickster tries, and the phone in his hand vibrates again. The very air around them starts changing.

The trickster follows Sakamoto quietly as the other wanders through the castle foyer, listening to the disturbed and confused exclamations. It's not the same, not exactly. Sakamoto saw the castle appear out of thin air, and he's not wasting time trying to convince himself that didn't happen.

The sky is red and Arsene is not here.

Everything else is the same. The same air pressure, the same uncanny aura... The trickster never forgot a single detail of this castle. The areas he'd seen, anyway.

"Hey- Hey!" Sakamoto sounds nervous, and the trickster lifts his gaze. Blue-masked, expressionless knights stand in front of Sakamoto.

Sakamoto flinches away from the sword that gets a little too close to his throat. "Calm down, man! We're not trying to do anything."

Two more pairs of footsteps sound on the heavy floor behind them, and suddenly the trickster is surrounded.

He tenses as he stares up at the knights. These are familiar threats, and they've nearly killed him before, and the trickster realizes suddenly that he doesn't want to die.

Sakamoto's voice is buzzing in his ears, but the trickster can't make out a single word. The knights advance, shields looming over them. Behind him, Sakamoto trips backwards.

A surge of fear pierces through the haze and confusion for the first time. All the trickster knows, at that moment, is how much he does not want to die again.

Something reaches back, and it clicks into place like a lost puzzle piece. There's no contract needed. There's only an identical answering call of desperation.

He feels the edges of his mask, and doesn't hesitate for a second to rip it away from his face.

His skin comes away with it. Blood streams past his eyes and mouth. Akira barely notices the pain, because in the same moment he takes off the mask the hollow in his chest is patched up with something weary and warm.

Arsene appears behind Akira in a flare of blue fire, and roars his rage. The knights stumble back.

Akira grits his teeth, blood mingling with sweat as he tries to comprehend the feeling of having a soul. He doesn't have the time. They could die here, and he won't allow that.

He can hear Sakamoto shouting something behind him. He's not sure what. All he can pay attention to is Arsene's whisper of life, echoing through his head.

Akira mirrors Arsene's terrified snarl on his own face, and takes out his dagger.

They run.

Arsene knocks down the knights for long enough for Akira and Sakamoto to run away--away from the guards, and unfortunately, deeper into the castle.

Akira isn't in any state of mind to remember what turns they take. He clutches his dagger tightly and checks his bond with Arsene, over and over and over again. Sakamoto has to pull him into a hiding spot twice because he wasn't paying enough attention and nearly ran straight into a shadow.

The emotions that were muddled and buried the past few days are hitting him all at once. He's terrified, and he's desperate. His heart is beating a mile a minute. It fuels the anger that keeps him upright and moving.

Arsene sticks close and doesn't disappear. Akira has to forcibly dismiss him when they're hiding and the blue flames are in danger of giving them away. It's the hardest thing he's ever had to do.

Sakamoto is the only reason he hasn't gotten himself killed yet. Some distant part of his mind registers that Akira should thank him, later.

If they get out of this.

Sakamoto calls for his attention, panting. He's paused, bent over and leaning against a wall with one hand. "Yo, I don't know what the hell happened back there, but... should we really be going down this way?"

Sakamoto keeps glancing with wide eyes over to Arsene. He doesn't sound scared, though. Akira knows he thinks Arsene is cool. Sakamoto had told him that, once.

Akira, on the other hand, keeps looking over his shoulder. He's waiting for the shadows to catch up. They will, eventually.

Sakamoto's right, this is nowhere near the entrance. Even while he was confused and terrified, Arsene had gently pushed Akira towards the dungeon. It watched their backs as they descended.

"There might be a way out," he says. His voice rasps against his throat. "It's better than going back up there."

Sakamoto doesn't look happy about it, but he follows. It's only a moment before he speaks up again.

"Dude, are you okay...? You don't look so good." Sakamoto doesn't even know his name, but concern bleeds through his frustration against Kamoshida.

Akira clenches a fist around his dagger. He tries and fails to make his expression relax into something reassuring. "I'm good."

Morgana is a familiar face. Akira has seen him more often as a cat than as a shadow creature, but the sight of him still relaxes something in him. He frees Morgana the moment the creature asks, no deal necessary.

Sakamoto hisses at him, "Dude!"

Akira ignores him. Morgana looks so happy to be out of that cell.

"I was starting to think I'd never get out of there!" Morgana ignores Sakamoto too. He eyes Arsene hovering over Akira's shoulder. "You can fight, Frizzy Hair?"

"You're not even asking me?" Sakamoto complains.

Akira glances at him. "We'll find a way out of here together," he tells both. "None of us want to be captured."

Sakamoto accepts that, with some reluctance.

An enemy is upon them before they're even out of the dungeon, and instead of trying to run or hide, Morgana stands his ground. Akira stands with him.

Morgana doesn't get the opportunity to do anything. Arsene tears through the Pixies with prejudice, while Akira takes his dagger to a Jack-o-lantern. It's over in seconds.

They move on to other enemies. Akira is ruthless in his attacks. His hand aches from how hard he's clutching his knife. His head hurts. Arsene destroys another enemy.

Morgana whistles as he looks up at Arsene. Its large form curls around Akira like a second shadow. It returns to his side after every fight, refusing to dissipate.

"Not bad! For an amateur, at least," Morgana tells him.

Akira starts to feel sluggish and dizzy as they go. That's a bad sign. They're not out of the castle yet; he can't afford to run out of energy.

These are small enemies, and he probably shouldn't be putting his all into every fight. There are too many of them and not enough of him.

It's hard to tone it down. It feels impossible. Akira can't be expected to come face to face with an enemy and refrain from killing it before it kills him. That's not fair.

None of this is. It's cruel, and it sucks, and he died.

He's having trouble focusing, and he can't feel himself breathe. He needs to calm down.

It's only when they're outside, back in the real world, and Akira has to put all of his effort into not passing out, that he notices.

He hasn't so much calmed down as run out of energy. Back in the real world, back in his school outfit, and hit by an adrenaline crash, it's much easier to notice what's out of place.

Until now, it made sense to him that his right leg and his chest were burning with pain like they had holes cut right through them. It made sense. It hasn't stopped since he died, after all.

It hasn't stopped.

Akira exchanges numbers with Sakamoto on autopilot, and makes his way home.

His brain doesn't wait until he's home to start working. He almost breaks down on the train now that he can think and realizes what this all means. Luckily it's Tokyo, and no one is paying attention to one of thousands in the crammed carriages. Even when he sways trying to take some weight off his bad leg, no one spares him a glance.

He's gotten attached to Tokyo in the past nine months.

His thoughts spin in circles after finally accepting the reality he's in, with the warmth of Arsene's presence resting solidly in his chest. Akira's missed that so, so much. It didn't feel real to live without it, even though that must've been how he lived for sixteen years.

It's late. By the time he gets home, it's past closing hours, and Boss isn't even in the cafe. It's unlocked, though, and Akira lets himself in before hesitating on whether he should lock it up or not. Boss hasn't given him a phone number yet, he can't ask.

Boss not being here to scold him for missing school has him half disturbed, half grateful. Though Akira didn't miss any school, it's still far too late an hour to be coming home. He could've been scolded.

He doesn't think he could take a lecture right now without crying. He can't even make a decision as to whether to lock the door.

He doesn't have enough space in his head to consider Leblanc's security. He leaves it be and heads upstairs.

His room is once again dusty enough to be a health hazard. He doesn't have the energy left to do anything about it. He can't even think while he's still standing, with the nonsense pain radiating up his side. He falls onto the unmade mattress and coughs out the dust in his lungs. The pain in his chest spasms.

It's only been a few days, and most of that time he'd been too out of it to care, but the pain he'd died with hasn't left. Akira is impossibly sure that it won't go away, not ever. It's a kind of certainty that he hates.

He can't wrap his head around that right now. His thoughts are still swimming. He hasn't figured out the short-term consequences of time traveling yet, he can't even think about the long term. He needs to prioritize.

This is a second chance, an opportunity to change the decision he made all that time ago.

Akira doesn't think he can necessarily affect the outcome, but he'll try. He'll always fight to change what's supposed to happen. His probation, his normal student life, none of it matters more than the fate that awaits them all if he fails again.

Arsene's warmth glows, and it hums in his mind. It agrees. They will not stand by again.

Caroline had said...

Akira squeezes his eyes shut and forces his thoughts away from the way her expression shut down for the last time, in the couple moments before she faded away.

Caroline had said it was all planned. All a twisted game, from the very start, manipulating the players and the public to bend exactly to its will. The Prison Master had changed the Velvet Room, changed Caroline and Justine too, rebuilt their original purpose and memories into something new. None of it was meant to happen this way.

The false god had been frustrated when he'd refused to play along. In the end, it didn't stop the game.

Akira can't change the way the game is played from the outside. He knows that. He's tried. Untrained and facing the end alone, he never had a chance of winning.

The false god had offered him a way to become stronger.

If Akira plays its game for long enough, he could throw that power back in its face. Couldn't he?

Akira grasps Arsene's presence in his mind tight, trying not to think about it being ripped away from him. He won't let that happen. Never again.

He's always been good at playing a role.

When he closes his eyes and wakes up in the Velvet Room, he sits in front of the bars and pays attention.

"Trickster... Welcome to my Velvet Room."

His chest hurts fiercely, because of course it does. He's not wounded in the real world in the first place. Why wouldn't the phantom pain carry over to his dreams?

"You're late, inmate!"

Caroline's voice is strong, loud. It doesn't waver.

An eerie melody from far in the distance echoes against the stone walls. He knows it well.

"The you in reality is currently fast asleep," Justine tells him.

Akira stares out at the Velvet Room, sitting on the cold cobblestone floor. It looks exactly the same. He feels like if he looks hard enough, he'll see blood splattered on the walls, scorch marks on the edges of the carpet. He looks. There is no blood. There are no bodies.

He barely listens as the Prison Master spins a tale. He knows exactly where he is. It's the only part of this game he knows much of anything about.

He sits on the rough cobblestone, and thinks.

The more he thinks, the more sick he feels.

"Still, this is strange. This room reflects the state of your own heart. To think a prison would appear as such..."

A set-up. He knows better than to trust a word of it. With every lie, his anger grows.

You truly are a prisoner of fate.

Igor talks about ruin, and challenges Akira's resolve. For the first time, Akira stands up and says, "Yes." He will stop ruin.

He's signing a contract. He knows it, the Prison Master knows it.

The only way to win is to play.

'There is still a way we can be saved.'

"I see you've already met others like you. Creating bonds will help you along your journey. Indeed, you must be prepared to use even me to advance your rehabilitation."

"There are people in this city with talents a weakling like you doesn't have! You better find them."

Akira feels something locking into place with the materialization of this bond, tightening around his chest, completely separate from the faux pain.

The bond of the Fool. So unlike Sakamoto, and Boss, and all the people he'd formed fledgling bonds with in the past. This just feels like another set of chains.

His hatred grows.

His disgust is kept internal and his face smooth of emotion. He will be whatever the Prison Master wants him to be, for however long it takes.

When he grabs the bars to speak to Igor on equal terms, they stay solid and unshaken under his hands.

Akira jolts up, gasping, clutching his chest. He can still feel the sensation of Arsene being ripped away from him burning through his veins and his muscles.

For a few seconds, he's caught in a panic, thinking that the Prison Master has figured him out and this is his punishment, it's happening again. He desperately searches, grasping for any hint of Arsene not truly being gone.

An answering warmth wells up immediately, reassuring, furious. Arsene promises to tear the false god limb from limb before it ever touches them again.

His pounding heart starts to slow. Akira lets out a shuddering breath, curling in on himself around the mussed sheets.

He was bleeding out, slated to die either way, but Arsene being separated from him is the last memory he has, and it hurts far more than the phantom pain burning through his chest and his leg. Akira will never forgive the Prison Master for it.

When Akira tastes the curry Boss makes him for breakfast, he almost cries. He's not sure why. It's not like he hasn't had it recently. He had it a few days ago, before the world went to hell. But he's still staring at his plate with wide, blurry eyes and trying very hard not to let any tears fall.

Boss looks uncomfortable, and a tiny bit relieved. "My curry is good, but it's not worth crying over, you know."

Chapter Text

Takemi is the one that asked him to come for a clinical trial, so she shouldn't be looking at him this skeptically.

He's had a bad week. He was kind of hoping to just pass out for a while in the name of science. If she called him all the way over here and won't let him do his job, he's going to be pissed.

That is too extreme of a reaction. The clinic is maybe half a street away from his house. It's no trouble to drop by.

It shouldn't be any trouble to drop by. But Akira's day had started with pain radiating through his leg, and walking sucks, and he's already so tired. The rigid examination table he usually dislikes is comfortable compared to standing.

"Hmm," Takemi says. "Are you sure you're up for this, little guinea pig?"

What he would otherwise deem a considerate question only feels annoying. "Yes."

At this point, passing out would feel like a break. He doesn't want to have to walk back home just minutes after getting here.

She grabs a clipboard. "Any health changes?"

It takes too much effort to keep his voice unaffected, so Akira just shakes his head.

She raises a single eyebrow at him, looking up from beneath her lashes. Lightly, she asks, "You're not lying to me again, are you?"

"I've never lied to you."

Akira might emphasize 'never' too much. He's still upset about being accused of lying about one of the few things he got to tell the truth for. He doesn't like lying.

Takemi turns to face him fully now. She studies him.

"Odd," she says. "You seem to be serious, but I remember a certain someone changing their story an awful lot when they first got here."

Akira's lips twitch into a scowl. His glasses help to hide his glare.

She's the one that changed his story. She talked herself into sympathizing about his college exams, without him mentioning anything like that.

Thinking back, that was probably when he figured that all his non-persona user confidants were going to accept him, no matter what he said. Even if he messes up completely, they'll just talk themselves into liking him anyway. It's part of the game. Predetermined.

He can't really believe that anymore, but the thought lingers.

He's overreacting because he's in pain. He should calm down so Takemi can actually proceed with her trial.

He glances back up at Takemi with a blank expression. He'll just get through this and go home.

She clears her throat, and says, "I should've probably done this a while ago, huh? Let's go through your medical history together. It's important to take that into consideration in the trials."

That seems a little too late to be helpful, but fine. "No major injuries," he says tonelessly. The metaverse probably doesn't count. Dying in the future definitely doesn't count. "I got pneumonia once, when I was seven or eight."

Takemi looks at him. "What about current complaints? Anything out of the ordinary is relevant."

Akira stares her down, and wonders if she'll believe him this time. "Nightmares."

Recent nights have been especially bad, filled with vague snatches of being stalked and watched all the time, in everything he does. They're not unfamiliar, but they've never been this bad.

In reality, the student council president following them around is ridiculous to the point of being endearing, with how bad she is at it. His unconscious mind apparently disagrees. It's the worst.

Takemi's expression doesn't change. "Regularly?"

"Every night this week," Akira says.

She frowns lightly as she notes it down. "Recurring?"

Akira nods. It feels odd. He didn't expect her to take him seriously.

"Were they caused by anything in particular?" Takemi asks.

"Yes," Akira says. He doesn't elaborate, and maybe Takemi can see that he's not going to, either, because she changes the question.

"Any other signs of stress?"

Akira gives her a blank look.

"You know, headaches, dry mouth or dry eyes, difficulty focusing, muscle aches," she lists.

Akira frowns. "All of the above? Those are signs of stress?"

"Well, I assume you would tell me if these problems were acute," she says pointedly. "As you're doing drug trials where side effects are very possible. I need to have an image of your baseline health if I want to note the changes to it."

Yeah, sure. Akira's not sure why she's acting like a real doctor now, after all this time.

"Is general pain also considered a health issue?" he guesses.

Takemi gives a short sigh as she returns to her clipboard. "Yes. How recent, how often, and what exactly do you mean by 'general pain'?"

"General, as in, not caused by an injury," Akira tries to explain. It takes some time to find the words. He's never had to put words to it before. "Every day since April, but it's not always the same."

Takemi's face has lost all pleasantness. "How would you describe this pain, and in which parts of your body is it present?"

Akira's never had to describe pain before. "... Aching? Burning? In the center of my chest and my right leg."

Takemi pinches the bridge of her nose. "I suppose this is partially my fault for not asking for your medical history before now. But really. You've been walking around with chest pain for two months and you didn't once think to mention it to your primary doctor? Don't tell me you're seeing another doctor on the side?"

Akira shakes his head. "There's nothing physically wrong. It's like the nightmares. It won't affect the trial results."

Takemi doesn't lift her head from her hand. "Really."

Still prickly, Akira mutters, "I told you I had nightmares."

Some expression flits across Takemi's face, though Akira doesn't get the chance to see it properly.

"Right," she says. "I'm going to refer you for an x-ray of your chest and leg. It'll be insured, so don't skip out on it."

Akira bristles slightly. He already told her this. "There's nothing wrong with them."

"I disagree," she says bluntly. "I'll also do a blood test, and... I suppose you don't need another motor control test, if this has been going on for the length of our deal. A deal which, by the way, we will only pick back up if I really find nothing physically wrong with you, and only as long as your symptoms don't change."

Well. At least Akira can meet those requirements.

It's still a waste of time that he wonders if he could've avoided, if he'd just rescheduled today's appointment.

Chapter Text

"I can't have you guys risk your lives for something as useless as me."

There's a pause. When none of them cut in, Morgana continues.

"That's why I think we should split up."

"What the hell do you think we're doing here, Mona?" Ryuji bursts out. "We all have our own reasons for being phantom thieves! You're not the only one invested in this, okay?"

Makoto clears her throat. "Please don't shout."

"What Ryuji means to say," Shiho says, "is that we're a team. We've always been a team."

"You can count on us, just as I hope that we can count on you," Makoto adds.

"I thought that was obvious," Ryuji grumbles. "You're calling me the stupid one?"

"Ryuji," Makoto says sharply.

"Yeah, yeah!" He looks right at Morgana. "I'm sorry. Was that what you wanted to hear? Because I am."

Morgana looks conflicted.

"Mona-chan, you should tell them how you truly feel," Haru says softly.

Morgana looks at her with accusing eyes.

"I'll go first," Haru says. "What my father is doing is truly horrible. But in reality... I want to change his heart for my own selfish reasons."

"You don't want to get married," Ann says. Her voice is as quiet as it ever gets.

"That's right," Haru says. "I stayed silent and meek for so long, letting my father make all the decisions for me... I will accept it no longer!" She takes a deep breath, and her shoulders sink. "That's my truth."

Morgana shrinks when everyone looks at him next, following Haru's expectant gaze.

"You all... I know you have reasons," he mutters. "They're admirable. They deserve attention and help. But me... I have no one to save, no one to take revenge on, no justice. How could I really belong here?"

Yusuke looks away. Makoto's face pulls tight in sympathy. Futaba hasn't moved since they sat down.

Ryuji scoffs, the sound piercing through the silence. "Uh, aren't you forgetting something?"

"Yeah," Ann says. "We've talked about this before. Not all of us have a motivation like that."

Joker doesn't miss his cue. When Ann looks at him, he looks at Morgana. His voice is quiet outside of the metaverse, but he hopes its tone is telling enough.

"I don't have anything like that. I belong here anyway. But only if you're here, too."

"It's the people that make the team," Shiho fills in. "We could fight shadows all day long, but we wouldn't be the Phantom Thieves without you, Mona."

Haru's wide eyes are shining with tears, her hand held over her mouth.

"You... You really mean that?" Morgana can't cry, but the waver in his voice is just as easy to read.

"Always," Shiho says, for all of them. Morgana looks around, as if expecting to find disagreement.

"I guess," he says, "I guess it's decided then. I belong here. You're stuck with me."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Ryuji says.

It's late, and instead of rushing for the last train, they collectively decide to have a sleepover. None of them have school tomorrow, after all.

Futaba takes Ryuji and Shiho to grab all the futons, loose blankets, and pillows she can find. She tells Akira, "Your room's the emptiest, so I think we might fit if we try hard enough."

Akira glances around for a quick head count.

Ryuji and Shiho are already halfway out the door. Ann has nestled herself next to Haru in a way that looks claustrophobic to Akira, but which Haru seems perfectly comfortable with, and Morgana is sitting in front of them on the booth table, which he's not supposed to do. Makoto is moving to sit across from them. Yusuke is at the counter, waiting for Akira to finish the fresh batch of coffee he promised. That makes nine of them.

"I doubt it," he tells Futaba. She just cackles evilly.

It's a hassle, but in the end they manage to make it work. Futaba claims the sofa, curling up enough that there's space for Shiho to make herself at home there too. Ann calls dibs on Akira's bed only to give Haru those same bed privileges--Akira doesn't mind, after that. Makoto and Yusuke play rock-paper-scissors for who gets the second futon. Akira just gives the first up to Ryuji.

"You sure?" Ryuji says. "I can barely sleep anyway, when there's people in the room."

Akira nods. He's slept in far less comfortable places than his desk chair, if he does end up falling asleep. He spent the better part of last year so sleep deprived that he'd fall asleep sitting on the stairs during lunch break. He'll be fine.

Ryuji eyes him. "Seriously, you're not doing the thing again, are you?"

Akira winces. Ryuji is still giving him crap over when Akira claimed his phantom pain wasn't real and thus shouldn't need to be accommodated.

"Just get in, man," Ryuji says. He shifts to one side of the futon. "It's not that big a deal."

"Really?" Akira asks, skeptically. That futon is not made for two adult-sized people. Ryuji only looks at him pointedly until he gives in.

Akira is expecting to feel trapped, between the blanket and Ryuji on one side and Makoto's futon on the other. He doesn't. For once, he actually doesn't.

"Really?" Futaba says, when she comes out of whatever she's doing on her phone. "You're going to sleep already? You're all old people at heart."

"You're going to sleep too!" Morgana tells her, startlingly close to Akira's ear. "A proper sleep schedule is essential for a phantom thief!"

Yeah, Akira has heard that speech too many times. He closes his eyes.

Yusuke offered to finish cleaning the dishes earlier. He'll turn off the light when he comes back up. They've made sure his blanket pile is closest to the front of the room, so he won't have to navigate in the dark.

Akira is not-quite asleep when he feels Morgana move from where he was curled against Akira's side. His eyes crack open, blearily searching out Morgana's form as he moves away. Some distant alarm bell rings in his head. Morgana isn't allowed to run away again.

Morgana only takes a few steps, though. He sits by Makoto's head, and they start whispering.

Akira wakes up slightly more. The room is dark. There's a faint tinny melody coming from the sofa if he really focuses--Futaba's headphones, maybe. The noise of nine people's breathing overpowers it.

All this to say, it's hard to make out what Makoto and Morgana are whispering about. Akira is becoming an expert in eavesdropping, though.

"-you'll just keep fighting," Makoto says. "I'll try to do better at making sure Ryuji doesn't mock you, but you need to put in the effort too."

That's their Queen. A weight Akira hadn't realized was there lifts.

She didn't ignore it, after all. She was just saving the discussion for a later time. Akira's own vague plans to talk to Mona fade away.

"I'm not nearly as mean," Morgana protests, though still in whispers. "He must hear it all the time! He's used to being stupid."

"That's exactly why that sort of comment will hurt him more, coming from a friend," Makoto tells him.

Akira lets his eyes fall closed. A small smile forms on his lips. Their leader's got this.

Morgana will apologize as well, and maybe he'll even mean it. Makoto is a miracle worker like that.

Chapter Text

Akira is already resigning himself to changing up his plans for the day, making a mental note to talk to Takemi whenever he finds the time, when Akechi comes up to them.

When Kasumi says, "It's been quite a while, Akechi-san," Akira's worldview stutters.

Of course, since it's Akechi, Akira is changing masks as easy as anything. "I see you two know each other," he says.

Akechi responds instantly. "Oh, no. Me and... Yoshizawa-san, wasn't it?"

Kasumi nods, and tells Akira, with the same smile as always, "My father works at a TV station. Akechi-san has been on 'Good Morning Japan' a number of times now, and I help around the set when I have free time."

"That's how I became acquainted with Yoshizawa-san," Akechi agrees. "I didn't realize that she attends Shujin Academy. That's how you know her, correct?"

"Did your detective instincts tell you that?" Akira asks dryly.

Akechi nods towards Kasumi. "You're both wearing the Shujin uniform."

Kasumi giggles. "I didn't know you knew how to make jokes, senpai."

Akira is not used to having an audience for his conversations with Akechi--it throws him off. Though Akechi himself has to be used to it, with how flawlessly he adapts. Akira begrudgingly allocates a point to Akechi.

"So, what were you two up to?" Akechi asks.

"That's right!" Kasumi remembers. "I was just about to share some exciting news. It's nothing to keep secret, so I won't waste your time."

She turns to Akira. "About the summer competition I mentioned to you before... I was chosen to be our club representative!"

Akira turns his full attention towards her, smiling gently. "That's awesome, Kasumi. I know you'll do great."

"This is only the beginning," she says, though her whole face has lit up. "I'll make sure to do my best! After all, I have you supporting me, senpai!"

Akira looks at Akechi, just in time to see him looking at Akira like he's said something strange. It's an expression he wipes off his face just as quickly.

"Your team is quite prestigious, if I remember correctly," Akechi tells Kasumi. "I must say, that's extremely impressive."

"Thank you!" Kasumi stands straighter. "I'll live up to your expectations, Akechi-san!"

"I'll be cheering you on," Akechi promises. Then, "Ah, I have an idea."

Akira doesn't like that tone. He's heard it too many times before getting his ass beat at billiards.

"Why don't we go somewhere as a group?" Akechi asks. "If you're amenable to it, we could make it a little celebration for Yoshizawa-san's success."

That... doesn't sound like a bad idea. Akira stays silent for a long moment, turning the words over in his head.

It doesn't matter, because Kasumi agrees excitedly. "That would be wonderful! That is, if you're okay with it, Kurusu-senpai."

"Of course," Akira says, the words slipping out automatically.

"That settles it," Akechi says. "Would you mind if I chose the place? There's a wonderful little café I happen to know about."

Akira is struggling. He likes both these people, and it's great that they get along, but he's used to adapting to them individually.

In a way, it helps, when they settle in a café in Kichijoji that's just quiet enough for their voices to carry to the adjacent tables. The quiet sinks in, lingering around Akira like a second skin, and the decision is made for him. It's nowhere near anonymous enough for Akira to feel comfortable.

Thoroughly defeated. Another point to Akechi.

Akira keeps his composed silence through the small talk Kasumi and Akechi make, letting his two most posh friends carry the conversation. They get along so smoothly that Akira can tell they're both as uncomfortable as him.

Or maybe 'on guard' is the more accurate term.

"I've been wondering," Kasumi says, dragging Akira into the conversation by his ankles, "how do you two know each other?"

"The same as you, actually," Akira tells her. He takes a sip of his subpar coffee.

"That's right," Akechi says. "We met on a TV set as well. The presenter picked him out of the crowd to answer a question, and his answer was one I found intriguing. You might call it fate."

"Senpai does seem to make people feel like that," Kasumi nods. "I've really benefited from hearing his thoughts."

Oh, good. They're bonding over him now. This is great. Akira keeps his apprehension all internal, nodding to Kasumi in thanks.

"I see," Akechi says. "You two seem rather close. That makes me wonder..." He turns to her. "Would you mind if I posed to you the same question I first posed to him?"

"Not at all," Kasumi says.

"What do you think of the Phantom Thieves, Yoshizawa-san?"

Kasumi thinks about it for a moment.

"I appreciate that they've helped catch criminals up to this point." She starts slowly, considering each word. "But I just can't agree with their methods."

Hm. That's awkward.

"So you don't think they're the heroes of justice some people make them out to be?"

"I suppose they have good intentions," Kasumi says, "but I believe people should be in control of their own fate. If there's this mystical force solving problems all around Tokyo, won't people stop trying to solve their own problems, the longer this continues? I believe you can't rely on anyone else to decide your future for you."

Kasumi makes quite a speech, but when she's done talking, she glances at Akira as if looking for approval. He smiles at her, reassuring.

"It seems you have a strong stance on it," Akechi says, "and not one I hear often, I must admit. I agree with you, though. Whatever the Phantom Thieves may or may not be able to do, as long as they remain an unknown quantity to the public, they will seem unstoppable."

That's the plan, Akira thinks. If Tokyo thinks they're unstoppable, that'll give them power in the cognitive world. It might be unhealthy in the long run, but this doesn't need to be for the long run. It just needs to last long enough.

He voices none of that.

"Kurusu-kun doesn't agree there, though, do you?" Akechi redirects the attention to him.

"I see your point," Akira says, "but when it comes to solving your own problems..."

"That's right," Akechi says, with a smile that isn't entirely fake. "You believe the Phantom Thieves are students of Shujin, too, don't you?"

Kasumi's eyes widen. "Do you really think they're only students?"

"I think they're people taking control of their own fate," Akira says, and then he shuts his mouth.

Some degree of open information is good to ward off suspicion, but too much is a risk.

"I see..." Kasumi says thoughtfully. "I can understand both viewpoints. It's no surprise to me that they're well-liked, either way." She sips her no-longer-hot chocolate.

"This has been a most interesting discussion," Akechi says. "I enjoyed hearing your thoughts, Yoshizawa-san."

"And I yours, Akechi-san." Kasumi eye-smiles at him.

A truly terrifying pair. Put next to each other... Akira wonders how fake Kasumi's demeanor is.

It doesn't seem fake, but it took a relatively long time for Akira to see through Akechi's public image. Maybe he should be looking more closely at Kasumi's.

Chapter Text

"Where did my teammates go?" Akira demands of the Prison Master.

Everything up until now has been terrifying, but not out of line with what Akira expected. But now he's here, in the Velvet Room, without his team.

They're supposed to be here with him. Akira can't fight the Prison Master alone. He doesn't want to fight alone.

He will, if he needs to. He'll always fight. But he wasn't supposed to have to do it alone again.

The Prison Master chuckles, like it can taste Akira's building despair.

"You seriously lost?" Caroline shouts at him in disbelief.

"After all the assistance we provided you with," Justine says.

Akira bites his tongue.

"Humans are more apathetic... and more foolish than I had thought them to be. The world will soon see its ruin."

Akira tastes blood, and opens his mouth before he bites through his tongue further. "You..."

The Prison Master looks at him curiously, but Akira seethes silently.

"You have lost the game," the Prison Master says. It can't even bring itself to sound disappointed. What a joke. "You were meant to bring change to mankind as a Trickster, but it seems that was too much for you. In accordance with the game's rules, the defeated party must pay a price."

"Shut up about the game," Akira hisses.

Alarm bells start ringing in his head, but they're buried under layers and layers of hate.

Akira bares his teeth. "I'm done playing by your rules. You don't own me."

Arsene laughs in delight.

"Inmate-!" Caroline says, urgent. Terrified. Akira can't even look at her, his eyes fixed on the thing in front of him.

The Prison Master chuckles at his defiance. "You are done playing entirely. I have no use for you any longer. My experiment was a failure, and thus your life is forfeit. Caroline, Justine, if you will."

It waves its hand, and the guillotines Akira uses for fusion appear in their regular place.

"Master...?" Justine says.

"Prisoners that can't be rehabilitated must be executed," the Prison Master says. "Grant that man a swift death."

Akira snarls at it. "No."

Caroline demands, "What do you mean, 'no'? If the Master says it, so it shall be!"

"Caroline..." Justine mutters uneasily.

"What is the matter?" the Prison Master says. "Carry out his sentence at once."

"Don't falter now!" Caroline scolds Justine. Her voice wavers. "This is our duty as wardens. It may be hard, but..."

"Now, now," the Prison Master says. "Don't tell me you've compromised your position by growing attached to this inmate."

There is a glint in its eyes that Akira doesn't like.

Are you going to let this happen again? Arsene says.

'Justine got caught in the crossfire... I left her behind.'

There isn't even a moment of hesitation. There is no longer a question.

Akira's prisoner garb flickers and changes. The door to his cell bursts into a thousand blue shards.

Caroline gapes at him. "Even now, you would rebel!?"

"Something this unruly cannot be allowed to continue existing," the Prison Master reminds the wardens.

Caroline scowls and holds up her baton defensively. She's preparing to fight him.

"Caroline!" Justine says hastily. "Does this seem right to you? Our duty is not to kill the inmate."

"Of course it is!" Caroline snaps. "Our duty is whatever Master tells us, is it not?"

Justine flicks quickly through the pages of her clipboard. She doesn't make a move to attack. She looks troubled.

"Justine?" Caroline hesitates at her lack of response. "Is there... another duty we've failed to complete? Is that why the Trickster lost the game?"

Joker hasn't taken his eyes off the Prison Master, so he sees when it turns sharply to Caroline at the address she uses for him.

Joker steps in front of Caroline. Arsene appears in a flash of blue fire to hover in front of Justine. A shield, a threat.

It won't lay a finger on them. Joker will not see either of them die. He refuses.

"What are you doing?" Caroline sounds bewildered. "Stop this at once."

They're his. He won't let them die.

"I believe I ordered his execution," the Prison Master says. He's no longer reminding the twins, he is scolding them.

Still, Joker isn't stabbed in the back like the Prison Master might have expected.

"... Have you truly forsaken humanity, Master?" Justine asks quietly. "After everything?"

"What are you saying?" the Prison Master says. His tone has changed.

"We are not executioners," Justine says firmly. "That is the truth."

Caroline steps forward to stand beside Akira. "Justine... is right. That's not what we were meant for."

A familiar voice whispers in Joker's mind. Help... Please...

Joker starts. Those words, in that tone... in this place. It's been nine months since he last heard them.

It gave him a chance. Joker is determined not to let it down.

"We've decided," Caroline says, a new steel in her tone. "We will not forsake humanity!"

She cries out in pain and collapses to her knees. Joker has his dagger in hand the next instant, looking around for what hurt her--the Prison Master has not moved.

Justine is on the ground as well, clutching her head in the same way. It looks like the headaches they used to get when talking to him about special assignments.

Something passes between the two of them. Some kind of silent acknowledgement.

"I finally remember..." Caroline says. "... We were torn apart."

Joker looks between them.

"We were originally one," Justine explains. "We were not meant to exist separately. We were torn asunder by malevolent intent."

As one, Joker, Arsene, and the twins turn to the Prison Master.

It chuckles. "Is this a formal accusation?"

Joker clutches his dagger.

"We will give you one last job," Justine says. "We must regain our original form."

"You better listen right this time," Caroline tells him. "You will fuse us together with your own hands."

Joker's head spins. "... What are you saying?"

"Haven't you been paying attention?" Caroline says, a hand on her hip. "You should know this by now."

"But..."

"Fuse us!" the twins command him simultaneously.

But the guillotines.

Akira has always had trouble even giving the command for his Personas to be executed. To operate the guillotines himself... To use them on the twins, whom he's come to consider as fellow prisoners, as something adjacent to family, even...

Arsene dematerializes in a flash of blue embers. Akira stares at the twins, like if he looks helpless enough they'll offer him another way.

"How amusing," the Prison Master says, drawing their attention again. "Neither of you can bring yourselves to execute the other. Such is the weakness of mortal beings... What folly."

It's just been standing there, watching them talk. It seems entertained.

"You must," Caroline addresses Akira. "We've been assisting you all this time. Return the favor."

Help us, the voice from all that time ago whispers.

Joker walks with heavy feet to the guillotines. Caroline and Justine quickly lock themselves in place, before he's even touched the pulley system.

Joker summons his strongest Persona into reality to keep an eye on the Prison Master while his own back is turned, but the Prison Master doesn't make a single move to stop him.

When Joker hesitates, with the blades of the guillotine ready at the top, Justine turns her head to him. Unlike all the Personas, they aren't bagged and chained. He can see their faces.

They're not scared.

"We are not dying," Justine tells him. "We are simply undoing what should never have been done to us."

Joker lets the chain slip through his fingers, and the blades drop.

The fusion is slower than it usually is, and for once Joker can see distinct shapes in the blue light. A flock of butterflies reunite in front of him, and out of the light, someone new forms.

She looks older than Caroline and Justine, if not by much. She's not in a warden uniform. She has both of her eyes.

"My name is Lavenza," she says. "It's nice to properly meet you."

He recognizes her voice.

Joker swallows. "Thank you."

For everything. For the second chance she gave him, even while she wasn't supposed to exist. For all that Caroline and Justine did for him.

He has one eye on the Prison Master, so it doesn't startle him when it laughs.

"What an interesting turn the game has taken," it says.

Lavenza turns to it with a glare more intimidating than either Justine's and Caroline's.

"This scoundrel has stolen my Master's name and taken his form," she tells Joker sharply. "I will no longer be deceived by it."

Joker feels impossibly relieved.

Fusing the twins was the hardest thing he's done in a long time, but it marked an irreversible change. Caroline and Justine hadn't died separately. Joker has a new ally at his side. He's on the final battlefield, and he hasn't seen any corpses yet.

The Prison Master's eyes start glowing, and Joker readies himself.

It starts floating, showing off its effortless power. Its voice reverberates like the Holy Grail's did, deeper than any Palace ruler.

"Whether the human world survives as it is or not, it's all sport to me," it says. "I had hoped my little experiment would change the world, that seeing a righteous thief vanquish evil would inspire the masses to change their own hearts... But you have seen the outcome. They have abandoned you to the depths, and secured their own ruin. They gave their lives to me when they prayed for the Holy Grail to take away their desires. Humanity has forsaken itself."

"You're a liar," Joker snarls, like he's wanted to do so many times over the past month. The words run away from him. "And a coward. You planned out everything, didn't you? There was never a game to win."

Blue flames flicker and spike around him.

"You did defy my expectations in some ways," it says. "You fought so hard to keep certain obstacles to your rehabilitation in your path, even when I was sure to make it easier for you to eliminate them. You truly were an amusing prisoner. Perhaps we can play a little longer."

It considers, before saying, "I shall grant you an opportunity to make a deal with me."

"The answer is no," Joker says.

"You will want to hear me out," it promises. "Should you wish it, I shall return the world to its prior state--one rampant with distorted masses."

"You dragged him into the Metaverse and into an ordeal he did not deserve," Lavenza says, "and you still intend on toying with him?"

Her defense is very sweet. It's also unnecessary.

"The world will escape ruin, and the Phantom Thieves will be praised as they should have been," the Prison Master continues. "Your bonds will remain unbroken. What say you?"

Joker channels Ryuji as best he can, and takes out his pistol. "I said, I'm not playing by your damn rules."

He aims and shoots the Prison Master right in its faux forehead.

The bullet only knocks it back maybe an inch. Its expression doesn't change from the eternal grin.

"Such irredeemable foolishness," it says, a touch of irritation in its tone. "Very well. I have no need for you."

As Joker is mentally flicking between Personas for the next attack, a bright flash of light obscures his vision. When he's able to blink the spots away, the Prison Master is gone. The air has lightened.

... What?

"Master!" Lavenza says, and Joker turns around sharply. The desk has reappeared, and the Prison Master is sleeping... Except...

Joker lowers his gun as Lavenza runs to the Prison Master's side.

His head spins, and his body stays tense with adrenaline that's suddenly unnecessary. What just happened?

Her voice seems to wake the new being. The moment he makes a sound, Joker is taken aback by how clearly distinct it is from the Prison Master.

"Oh my," Lavenza's true master says, looking around the Velvet Room. His voice is soft, and it has actual intonation. "It appears some changes were made in my absence."

He turns to Joker. "Welcome to the Velvet Room! My name is Igor. I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance."

Joker holsters his gun, maybe a little late. He wasn't expecting the Prison Master to just... leave. Without a fight. Why wasn't there a fight?

Lavenza smiles at him. "He is the rightful master of this place, the true aid for your journey."

"The true aid...?"

"It may be difficult for you to understand this all at once," Igor says.

"If I were to summarize it," Lavenza says, "the 'fake' has left, and the 'real' has returned."

Joker raises a hand to stop her. "I know. You're saying... I was going to end up here either way? It wasn't the Prison Master's doing that brought me here?"

"That's right," Lavenza says. "You are the Wild Card. It is your destiny to complete the journey to your true potential. The journey was never meant to be twisted against you the way it was."

Joker feels instinctive revulsion at the word 'destiny' at this point, and he's not sure how he's supposed to take this. He takes a deep breath.

All the remnants of fury lingering on the edges of his thoughts, he boxes up for later. It's not over. It can't be over. He'll need it later.

"Isn't the Wild Card the ability to have multiple Personas?" Joker asks.

"Indeed," Lavenza says. "Only guests of the Velvet Room can make use of this ability. You would always have been invited to the Velvet Room, but it should have been your choice whether to accept the invitation."

"Oh dear," Igor says in response to the look on Joker's face. "It seems the impostor that replaced me did not explain very much at all."

Joker refocuses. "Do we have the time to talk about it? Where did it go, and what did it do with my friends?"

"They have not necessarily expired yet," Lavenza says, and while that is good to hear, the way she says it has dread pooling in Joker's stomach.

"This is a place between dream and reality, mind and matter," Igor explains. "They will all have been taken here along with you."

"You will have to free them, the way you freed yourself," Lavenza says. "This is something only you can accomplish. We will have the time to explain everything, as time does not run the same outside as the Velvet Room as inside of it, but I feel it would be best to do so with your friends in attendance."

"Right," Joker says.

"Then go forth," Igor says, "and gather the people you should be facing the truth with."

Chapter Text

Haru's father dies.

Ever since the announcement of the press conference, Joker has been silent. He offered no input on the location of the celebration party, no words of encouragement to Haru.

He'd been scared.

Haru's father dies, and they all watch it happen.

As Makoto checks in with Haru, Joker drops his phone on the table and presses his palms into his eyes.

He hadn't changed anything. He can't even say he'd tried his best, because that implies that he'd known what to do at all, and he'd had no idea.

He'd tried subtly warning the other Thieves off the target, told Haru that her father's death was a possibility, suggested they change her fiancé's heart instead. He hadn't had a good excuse to keep insisting when Haru'd said she understood her options, and wanted to change her father's heart anyway.

All the talk about the other metaverse user that's been causing mental shutdowns had him suspecting that that's who'd killed Okumura, so Joker had stayed behind in the palace while it was collapsing. He'd made sure. He'd taken a chunk of metal ceiling to the head in order to watch Okumura's shadow fade out of view, still a little bruised up but completely fine otherwise. He'd got to personally test out how long the palace's surroundings last after the Palace itself is gone, and it had been pure luck that he'd only spent a few seconds suffocating. He'd made sure.

His teammates' voices are overlapping in distress around him. Joker doesn't move.

He should be comforting Haru, like they are. He should at least be expressing sympathies.

He was so sure Okumura's shadow was fine.

By the time there's a careful hand on his shoulder, Haru has already left. Joker heard her go.

Makoto leans against the table, and when he looks up, she catches his eyes.

"Akira," she says, "promise me that you had nothing to do with this."

Her voice is shaky with emotion.

"I promise," Akira says. "I just... I was so sure. I saw him- his shadow, I saw it disappear. I was so sure."

"You saw it disappear alive," Makoto clarifies. Akira nods miserably.

Makoto sighs. "I believe you. I don't understand what happened, but... I believe you."

When Akira doesn't respond, she says, "We'll discuss this further later. Haru is in the best position to find out more, and we'll wait for her to get back to us."

Makoto had noticed he wasn't paying attention to the conversation just now, then. Akira nods mutely. The way he moves feels like he's one of the robots they fought in the palace.

He looks around and notices far too late that the rest of the group is already gone. Even Morgana. Akira hasn't seen any movement in a while, so he assumes they left before Makoto even started talking to him.

"Did Mona go with Haru?" Akira asks. To his relief, Makoto nods.

Haru might need the support. He's glad she isn't completely on her own.

"We should both go home," Makoto says. "We'll all meet up at Leblanc tomorrow."

Akira picks up his empty bag.

Akira stays awake that whole night, against the pull of the Velvet Room. He has experience, and Mona isn't here to lecture him about it.

He doesn't think he could face the Prison Master right now without cursing it out. This is the safer option.

When he finally falls asleep the next afternoon after school, it barely matters. The minute he sees Igor's smug face he wants to put a bullet through it.

He's still in chains. They're an eternal reminder of his place. His face goes blank, his snarl stays internal.

Arsene struggles against their chains with a new ferocity, roaring in Akira's mind. The twins might be able to pick up on his Persona's distress, but if they do, they don't say anything about it.

Igor seems amused. Its words are careless, its tone unchanged and all the crueler for it. It's the first time Joker has felt like he could kill the Prison Master. It's the first time his fear is buried deep enough under the rage that he can't find it anymore.

"I truly look forward to seeing how you will overcome this predicament," Igor says mildly.

A game. It's all a game to Igor. If Akira upends the table in the childish urge to react, he'll lose.

He focuses. The card of the Fool spins sluggishly on its axis over Igor's head.

He won't lose.

It's another day before they see Haru, though she doesn't show at school. She calls a Thieves meeting in the afternoon.

Leblanc became their new hideout after recruiting Futaba, who had needed to be able to come to meetings without being extremely stressed about it. Haru gets there before any of them, maybe before school is even out.

When Akira walks in behind Ryuji and Shiho, the TV is on. A newscaster speaks in a low drone.

"His sudden collapse was-"

Futaba comes in behind Akira, and immediately turns the TV off. Haru looks up in surprise.

"What's this, then?" Sojiro says good-naturedly. "Another study group?"

"Apologies for the intrusion!" Ann says. Akira starts. He hadn't heard her come in behind him.

Leblanc already feels crowded.

"Yusuke ain't here yet," Ryuji says.

"His school lets out later than ours," Makoto reminds him. "It can't be helped. Sorry for the imposition, Boss."

Sojiro waves it off. "I'm not expecting any regulars today, so I'll close the café a few hours early. How's that sound?"

He really is happy about Futaba making friends.

"That's perfect!" Futaba chirps, in her usual tone. She messes with her phone for a few moments, and the TV changes to a static image with quiet jazz music underlying it.

It all feels too ordinary.

"I crave coffee, Sojiro!"

Sojiro chuckles and gets to work making drinks for everyone. He knows everyone's preference, even when he barely knows their names.

Makoto sidles up to Haru and starts a chat in low tones. Akira calls dibs on one of the bar stools and sets the Mona bag on the one next to it out of habit. It's empty--Morgana is already sitting primly on the back of Haru's booth seat.

Yusuke comes in not too long after, which prompts Sojiro to leave.

"Don't burn the place down while I'm gone," he warns Akira, more from habit than anything else. Akira nods.

"Let us get straight to the point," Yusuke says, accepting his fresh cup of coffee from Akira. He looks at Haru.

Haru flounders slightly. "Yes," she says. "I'm sure you're all wondering, so I want to say I'm doing okay."

"I'm glad," Shiho says first, garnering agreement from the other Thieves.

Haru takes a deep breath and steels herself before she continues. "My father was pronounced dead yesterday evening."

"So it's true, what the news is saying," Ryuji says grimly.

When there's no immediate reply, Makoto takes Haru's hand in hers and speaks up in her stead. "It seems President Okumura died from unknown causes."

Yusuke nods along, but Morgana's ears perk up and swivel. "When you say 'it seems'..."

"Unknown causes of death are very rare," Makoto says. "For a public figure this prevalent, it's practically unheard of. Even if it was a cardiac event, that would be noted instead."

"It's too suspicious," Haru agrees. "We already know a mental shutdown doesn't lead to death directly. There should have been a physical event to observe."

"Wait, so what's that mean?" Ryuji asks.

Makoto turns to Akira then. "Okumura's shadow was alive when it returned to its real self, correct?"

Akira averts his eyes. He runs a hand through his hair, over the spot where an echo of pain still sounds. "Right."

"Hang on, you don't think Akira did something, do you?" Ryuji says defensively. There's a pre-emptive bite to his tone. "He didn't want to target the guy in the first place."

"He didn't," Haru says, and Ryuji relaxes. "None of us did this. I truly believe that. At most, it was an accident. But..."

"-but if President Okumura successfully had a change of heart and his shadow disappeared, how did he die?" Makoto picks up. "We all saw the video footage... Did that look like a mental shutdown to you?"

Futaba had drawn into herself as soon as the conversation started, but now she uncurls slightly. She sits up.

"How would we know?" says Ann. "We've never seen one happen before."

"It's true that I have no point of reference for this," Makoto admits. "But for a mental shutdown, a removal of his desires, didn't Okumura's symptoms seem awfully physical?"

"That wasn't a mental shutdown," Futaba says with quiet realization. "I didn't want to think about it, but the choking, throwing up blood... That's not what happened to mom at all."

Makoto squeezes Haru's hand again, when she wavers and looks away.

Yusuke says, "This is excellent news!"

"Yusuke," Ann hisses. "Her dad's still dead."

"My apologies," Yusuke says, "I didn't mean to imply that this wasn't a horrific turn of events. However, what you're getting at... It was poison, yes?"

"Most likely," Makoto agrees.

"Then we didn't kill him," Shiho says, and her breath wavers with relief.

Haru nods at her. "Not even by accident. I believe we did everything right."

Ryuji exhales. Muted relief settles over all of them.

Makoto shatters it without hesitation. "This is good to know," Makoto says, "but it won't change the public's opinion. President Okumura collapsing like that, at a press conference that was clearly our doing... The connection is obvious at a glance."

"And a glance is all they'll bother with," Ann says bitterly. Shiho leans into her side.

"This was done to set us up," Makoto concludes, grim.

"No, hang on," Yusuke says. "There is another inconsistency. If it was poison, why did the coroner's report not show it?"

Makoto exchanges a grim glance with Akira.

"Police corruption." Akira's voice is quieter than all of theirs, but it fills Leblanc.

"Has to be," Makoto says. "There's no way they'd conclude an unknown cause otherwise. Not this quickly."

"Whoever wants to keep the information about the mental shutdowns quiet must have connections stretching all the way to the coroner," Haru fills in.

Akira thinks of Masayoshi Shido and his live confession.

"That's bullshit!" Ryuji shouts, startling half the room badly enough to flinch. "That's way too much power. Who does this guy think he is?"

"Keep it down!" Morgana hisses.

"The café's effing closed, Mona," Ryuji grumbles back.

"I tried to run again," Futaba says. She seems unhappy, fiddling with her sleeves. "I keep doing that."

"It's a tough habit to unlearn," Makoto says. She knows a fair amount about bad habits.

"This was important, though," Futaba mumbles. "Usually it's just crowds or too much sun. This- If you hadn't seen it, were we just gonna keep thinking we killed someone?"

"I did see it," Makoto says, "so it doesn't matter. It's okay, Futaba--you're allowed to make mistakes and take your time. There's eight other people looking at the same data, you know." Her voice is gentle in a way she never thought it could be.

"Right," Futaba says. She regains some of the steel in her tone. "Right! I keep forgetting I don't have to do this alone anymore."

She looks up from across the booth, where she's crouching. "You sounded a lot like my mom just then."

"Oh," Makoto says, taken aback. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

Futaba interrupts her. "No, no, it's fine. It's good. Every group needs a mom friend."

"Oh... Okay...?" Makoto isn't sure if that's a compliment.

Chapter Text

"That's right," Morgana says, puffing out his chest. "We're the Phantom Thieves."

Her eyes widen. "But then, when we were at the café, when you told Akechi-san the Phantom Thieves were Shujin students... Quite a bold move, senpai!"

Morgana instantly turns on him. "You what?"

"Calm down," Akira tells Morgana.

"In hindsight, it worked very well," Kasumi comes to his rescue, open admiration in her tone. "Without experiencing the events of today myself, I never would've suspected that a Phantom Thief would reveal so much about their own identity."

Morgana sputters. "Still! That's..." He shakes his head. "Well, what's done is done, I suppose..."

Kasumi seems to realize something. Her hand flies to her mouth. "Back then... I basically told the Phantom Thieves to their face I don't agree with what they're doing! I am so sorry, senpai!"

She bows deeply.

Joker shakes his head when she looks back up. He was never upset.

"Oh, uh..." Morgana's ears droop. "Have you... changed your mind on that?"

Kasumi takes a moment to think about it. It makes her apology just now sound more real, when she doesn't jump to agree. She isn't compromising her ideals.

"It's like you said, Kurusu-senpai," she nods. "You're taking control of your own futures, not those of others, right? Please, correct me if I'm wrong."

"All our cases so far have been personal," Joker says. Reconsiders. "Except maybe the mafia boss."

"He threatened us too," Morgana points out. Then, indignant, "Hey! When you put it like that, we sound selfish."

"I don't think you're selfish," Kasumi disagrees.

Morgana perks up at her approval. "In that case... We'd have to ask our leader, but... Joker, what do you think? Her Persona's pretty powerful."

Joker nods. She'd used bless attacks, which no one except him has had so far. She'd be a valuable part of the team.

Kasumi is taken off guard. "Wait, are you saying... you want me to join the Phantom Thieves?"

"We could use someone like you on the team," Morgana says. When she doesn't immediately agree, he continues, "You don't have to give us an answer right now. You should probably learn more about what we actually do, before you make a decision."

Instead of agreeing, Kasumi gives them a formal bow. "Thank you very much for the offer. I'm sorry, but I have to decline it."

Morgana's brain freezes in real time as her words register. Joker just feels a simmering dread.

"I want to focus on gymnastics," Kasumi says. She continues, "When I awakened to my, uh, Persona, was it? I realized something then. Our dream was never subject to the opinions of other people, and I won't let them demotivate me. From now on, I'll dedicate everything I have to making that dream come true, instead of wasting my time trying to please authority figures."

Joker bites his tongue harder than is strictly necessary to keep his mouth shut.

That's her choice. That's her choice, and he will defend her right to that choice to the death.

"Robbing places will make you better at gymnastics," he suggests. It's weak.

Kasumi does him the courtesy of considering it seriously. "It probably would," she agrees. "But I don't think it would be fair to you if I joined you without putting my all into it."

She has every right to make this choice.

Will she regret it, like he did?

He catches her guilty glance to the side, and shakes himself out of it. He's been silent too long.

"Kasumi," he says, "you trust me, right?"

"Of course, senpai," she says. Not a moment of hesitation. "You just saved my life. You and Morgana-senpai both."

Akira nods.

He should've gotten this choice. He should not have had to die for it. That ultimatum he was faced with... It's an injustice he can never forgive.

"Put everything you have into gymnastics," he says. "I'll make sure you don't have to worry about this. I promise."

She beams up at him, and Akira knows he's said the right things.

He doesn't know if he was telling the truth.

Chapter Text

The blood falls like rain, and no one bats an eye.

Akira was on his way to his part time job at the beef bowl shop when the world broke apart. He's wading through knee-deep bloody water that everyone else is ghosting through as if it doesn't exist.

He's not sure if any of the red rain got into his mouth or if it's just that thick in the air, but he can taste blood.

And no one else sees it.

For the first time in an age, Arsene roars in the back of his mind.

This world is poisoned by distortion, it tells Akira. It will not survive much longer. Break free!

His heart pounds in his throat.

It's the metaverse closing in on him. It's the metaverse coming to him, finally sick of him avoiding it. A thousand more fears flit through his head in the short time it takes him to reach Central Street.

There's less water here, puddles instead of a knee-deep bog. Akira doesn't move any easier. It's the air itself that's fighting him, choking him from the inside.

The world is ending. Akira can feel it.

A form collides with his, at such a speed that he stumbles. The one who collided with him, much tinier, is thrown onto the ground with the force of it.

Akira's eyes settle on Caroline. She's not the composed warden she's always presented herself as.

Her hat is missing, and so is her baton. Even though she was running when she bumped into him, she's now struggling to lift herself up.

She didn't cry out, but her face is twisted in pain and fear and something else.

Akira crouches next to her. He can't bring himself to touch her, to help her up. "Caroline, what happened? How are you out of the Velvet Room?"

Her eyes shoot open at the sound of his voice. "Inmate!"

It's not how she usually says it. Her voice breaks. She pushes herself up.

"I can't do it," she says. She's struggling to breathe. "I thought I had more time. I thought that at least..."

She's barely on her feet before she's losing her balance again, and this time, Akira is there to catch her. Even with everything else, the skin to skin contact sets off brand new alarms in his head. It burns.

"What happened?" Akira insists again. It probably doesn't help her. He's willing to admit at this point that he's panicking.

The crowd parts around them, but it keeps moving, unconcerned.

Caroline is crying, Akira notices with a new spike of fear. Silently crying. Her tears mix with the bloody raindrops.

"Justine is dead," she finally says, her voice cracking again.

Akira tenses. "What?"

Is this another attempt at forcing him into action? It doesn't make sense. How could Justine die? She isn't human, is she?

... Caroline is crying and struggling to stand. She's outside of the Velvet Room. Maybe they're more human than Akira gave them credit for.

"I can't exist as half of a whole," Caroline says. "I don't have long. You need to find our Master."

Akira shakes his head. "What do you-? Igor is missing?"

"The one you're thinking of is not our real Master." Caroline is speaking quicker now, in between gasps of breath. "That creature fooled us, molded us into wardens against our purpose. We were never supposed to imprison you. It was all a lie, all part of its game. The false god set this up... every pawn, every domino piece, with the only variable the Persona users... and even those it manipulated."

Akira swallows. He's trembling, though he stays crouching, still holding Caroline up. "Then what happens now? What is happening?"

"The False God is fighting your Phantom Thieves," Caroline says, her words slowing, losing volume. "I don't know how they'll fare. Justine got caught in the crossfire." A longer pause than before. "I left her behind."

Caroline's muscles slacken until she's no longer holding herself up, like that confession took all of the energy she had left.

"Caroline?" Akira's voice cracks, and he resists the urge to shake her. She doesn't look like she could take it.

"I'm sorry," she says, and her voice is so small.

She's suddenly lighter, and Akira holds on, feeling like if he doesn't, she'll float away.

She says, "Promise me..."

Her voice is the first thing to go. It feels like Akira blinks and she's already on the edge of fading away, more light than entity, and then he's holding nothing.

Akira tastes blood.

The fear deep in his gut fuels a white-hot fire that takes him a second to identify.

Hate. He's never hated anyone as much as he does now.

His fists clench in the absence of anything to hold, his vision is hazy with bloody raindrops.

Everything you thought you knew was just taken from you, Arsene tells him. Are you going to run?

That's not a real question.

A flare of heat grazes his face.

Finally, Arsene whispers. No more restrictions.

Nothing left to lose.

Akira stands up slowly, hesitating over the spot where Caroline last existed. His gloved hands are curled around nothing. He takes out his dagger and holds that instead.

The air doesn't burn anymore. The resistance from before has disappeared, unable to touch him.

Akira is in his full Metaverse outfit, but just like the blood, the crowd won't notice it. They look away.

Down the alley, where Caroline had run from, is a glowing blue cell door. It's cracked open, but he can't see anything except a uniform blue through the bars.

Akira holds his hate tight and steps into the alley.

Chapter Text

"You're quite good at this."

In his surprise, Akira actually laughs.

"Better believe I'm good at this," he tells Akechi dryly. "I'm cheating."

Morgana turns to gape at him. "Huh?"

"Oh? I hadn't noticed." Akechi only looks mildly curious. Since any expression he wears is mild, Akira chooses to translate this one into 'annoyed'.

"That's because you haven't been paying attention," Akira tells him and Morgana both.

When Akira is up again for the next round of darts, he can practically feel Akechi studying him. His position in relation to the toe line, his hands, the darts themselves. There's nothing unusual about them.

Akira activates Third Eye and throws a Ton 80.

"Impressive," Akechi says. "If you're cheating, I can't tell."

"You still have me beat at billiards," Akira consoles him.

They're teammates. Is it enough?

It feels kind of ridiculous, at this point, that Akira is more stressed about the possibility of being ghosted by his friend than he is about the possibility of being murdered by his friend.

In class, when he has nothing to occupy him except for these kinds of grim thoughts, Akira daydreams about playing piano. There was nothing important about playing piano, no make-or-break risks. He could fumble and it would be fine. That's novel, nowadays.

He hasn't had access to a piano since he died. With the extracurricular activities he has now, he had never joined the music club.

Akechi had gone missing in December. Less than a month from now. It had been just a few weeks of no contact, and it wouldn't be nearly as concerning if Akira and all of the Phantom Thieves weren't killed by divine power soon after.

Akechi has always been aware of the metaverse. Akira is ninety percent sure he joined the Phantom Thieves a long time after Akira didn't. So then why had he disappeared without a trace? Why wasn't his corpse splayed on the floor of the Velvet Room?

Is it messed up that he wishes it had been?

Akira knows exactly how the rest of the Phantom Thieves had died, and in comparison, that's comforting. He can do something about it. Akechi's disappearance... He has no clue. It's like Okumura all over again. He doesn't know how to stop it.

The whole of November, the anxiety that has him by the throat isn't his own impending doom. It's Akechi's.

He tries not to be too clingy about it. It's not in character, and the last thing he wants to do is scare Akechi away. He doesn't think he could, but at this point, without a clue what really happened, Akira needs to play it safe.

He doesn't take initiative to text Akechi--he never has time to text anyone, there's always more to do, so texting Akechi would definitely freak him out. He still stares anxiously at his phone each evening that doesn't start with a text from Akechi.

Maybe Akechi picks up on it, or maybe he's just as aware that their time together will be coming to an end. He invites Akira to hang out almost every day, that last week before they send the calling card. (He had said recently that they would stop meeting after the Phantom Thieves disbanded, and Joker's heart jumped into his throat. It felt more final than the premeditated murder they're sure Akechi will be committing.)

It's not a goodbye, Akira tells himself. He won't let it be a goodbye. If Akechi does leave, he's going to tell Akira with his words, damn it.

The nights he isn't spending time with Akechi, Akira meets with the fortune teller.

He's not sure how much of it is authentic and how much of it is a part of the game, but every time that Chihaya gets more convinced he can change fate, it manages to bring his stress levels down slightly.

"Fate is not absolute," he tells her, and he doesn't let on that he's trying to convince himself.

Chapter Text

Only a few days after their failed casino heist, Shiho is back in school. Shujin is a hellhole that doesn't accept extended sick leave, and it's not like Shiho's moms can file for bereavement leave pertaining to 'the Leader of the Phantom Thieves'.

The actual leader, along with the rest of Shiho's surviving friends, have simply been going to school as usual since the heist. She's lucky her parents support her like they do, but it still doesn't feel like enough. Nothing feels like enough when her friend is dead.

Shiho spent all her tears in the period of anxiety after Futaba's first indication that something had gone wrong, and she's left with nothing but bitterness in the days following. She's trying to get out of her head, like her mom advised, but she doesn't think she can function like a normal person until Masayoshi Shido goes down.

The Phantom Thieves are united in this matter, despite the number of fights they've had in the days since the heist. Shido needs to be exposed for what he did. Only after that can they fall apart.

Shiho is afraid they might actually fall apart. The words thrown around... It's understandable, but it wasn't pretty. Some of those words were hers, and she's not proud of them. She's already apologized for what she said to Makoto, but she knows Makoto is still thinking about it.

It wasn't fair of her. No one was being fair to anyone, the day after... Well. It hurt to think about, so at the time Shiho had shied away from the fact that Akira had offered himself. He'd explained it all in such a calm, logical way. He'd said, I could be mistaken as the leader. He'd said to Makoto, You'll run the plan behind the scenes while I play bait. You have the hard job. He'd said, I have experience being interrogated.

That should've been the first red flag, but it hadn't been. It'd made sense to Shiho. She hadn't connected 'experience' to 'trauma' until Akira was already caught, and she was worrying about him in that underground cell, because she knows, they all know, he has issues with feeling trapped. That's been a consideration in their interactions for almost as long as they've been friends.

The experience he was talking about didn't make it any easier. It just meant he'd known exactly what he was walking into.

To make the week after even more unbearable, they try and fail and fail and fail again to guess Masayoshi Shido's last keyword. They're sitting ducks without being able to get more information on the man.

In her last class on Monday, just like all the ones that came before, she isn't listening. When her phone soundlessly vibrates in her pocket, she takes it out and reads the message, hoping it's one of her friends. She needs some friendly contact right now.

The message is from the old Phantom Thieves group chat, the one that hasn't been used in a week.

Akechi: meet in front of the diet

Akechi: its joker btw

Several thoughts pass through Shiho's mind in rapid succession, starting with what the fuck, all the way to this is the worst prank in history. She wants to feel rage, but comes up with nothing more than absolute confusion.

She's not the only one looking.

Makoto: Very funny.

Makoto is definitely feeling that rage that Shiho can't muster.

Akechi: 20171127_142755.jpg

It's a picture of Akira, clearly looking into the camera. He's pale, without his glasses, in a winter hat that covers his hair and in unfamiliar clothes, but so undeniably alive.

Ryuji: DUDE

Ann: Do you have Akechi's phone??

Akechi: stole it

Akechi: srsly diet building. ill explain but we're on a time limit

"Suzui-san," Ms Usami says sharply. "At least pretend you're interested in exponential graphs."

Shiho opens her mouth to ask to be excused, but Usami has already turned away.

Makoto: do not leave your classrooms.

Makoto: I know this is more important than class, I do, but it'll be too suspicious if we all run out at the same time. Akira, do you have an hour or so?

Akira: probably

Shiho: Yusuke still has a class after Shujin's end

Makoto: Slipping out between classes is less suspicious, especially if he's the only one skipping a period. Let's just hope he sees this in time.

Futaba: on the train rn be right there

Ryuji: no fair

For the first time in a week, Shiho feels something she can call hope. It's like nothing has felt real until just now, like everything had been a little to the left and is slotting into place again.

The world without Akira in it didn't make sense. This, in comparison--Akira coming back from the dead with no explanation--makes perfect sense.

Futaba is the first to arrive. Akira barely has time to be impressed that she took the train on her own, because Morgana launches himself out of the bag she's carrying, yowling. "Akira!"

Luckily, they're not directly in front of the Diet Building. Akira felt antsy about walking away from it, but following their leader's instructions he retreated to just outside of the nearest subway station to wait. There are no guards in range to see them.

Akira holds his arms by his sides awkwardly as he realizes that Morgana isn't big enough to hug. Morgana doesn't seem to care, putting his nails in Akira's (Akechi's) clothes to climb onto his shoulder, where he definitely doesn't fit.

"We missed you," he meows, rubbing his face against Akira's cheek.

Futaba is suddenly in front of him as well, her hands clasped in front of her to avoid grabbing him. "You're really okay," she says breathlessly.

"I'm okay," Akira promises. He's barely even lying this time.

For a moment, Futaba is silent, studying him with her wide, piercing eyes. She then decides he's telling the truth, and positively beams. "You really hacked Akechi's phone to round us up? Was it a high level boss? Did you have to train for it?"

"It was pretty easy," Akira admits. "It's not reinforced or anything." He hands it over for her to inspect, and with the movement, Morgana loses his balance and jumps to the ground. Akira gives him a silent apology with his eyes.

He's trying to keep his mind off what Akechi may or may not be going through in the Palace that Akira refuses to enter without his team. Akechi has survived it so far, he'll survive a little longer. Akira needs to believe that.

"Did he kidnap you?" Futaba asks, though her focus has been absorbed by scouring Akechi's phone for secrets. Akira doubts she'll find anything, considering the lack of professional security. There's nothing on that phone that Shido would've deemed worth securing it for--after all, as far as Shido is concerned, it's completely irrelevant to the metaverse. Akechi can just jump in and out at will.

Akira is still trying to figure out how he does that.

"No," he says. "Well, yes, he did. But not the malicious kind of kidnapping. I swear," he adds quickly, when Futaba looks up skeptically and Morgana gives a doubtful hum.

"You couldn't have let us known earlier?" Morgana asks. There's a raw quality to his voice that has Akira's gut twisting.

"I think my phone's still in police custody," he says, trying for matter-of-fact and falling short.

He's spent more or less a week trying not to think about police custody, but now that it's been brought up, Akira feels sick with more than one realization. The worry of his team is one thing, they knew what he was going into, but he hadn't told any of his other confidants the plan.

Takemi and Yoshida have both guessed he's with the Phantom Thieves, but he hasn't told either of them any details. He hadn't wanted to involve them more than they'd already been involved. When the news announced the leader's death and Akira wasn't available to reassure them, what had they thought?

"I..." He hesitates. "I don't think I'm getting it back. Futaba, the bug you put on my phone..."

She gives him a sidelong glance, like she's trying not to look too closely at him. "I can wipe it if you want. But if I want to make sure no one can access the data, it'll have to be totally bricked. It's not going to be recoverable."

Akira gives a shrug, even as he feels a sense of loss. He knows where his confidants hang out, he'll see them again eventually. He just has to stay alive until he does.

He has to keep everyone alive.

Akira feels bad about ruining the reunion, feels bad about having made them worry to begin with, but that doesn't stop him from hurrying it along.

He's done a lot of speculating on Shido's Palace over the course of Akechi's solo infiltration. He's been thinking about how Akechi talked about it, the one time he did. Specifically, about the phrase 'crash and burn.'

It hadn't the words themselves, but the grim conviction in Akechi's voice that convinced Joker he'd been referring to the Palace contents directly.

Most vehicles are too small for Joker to imagine them housing a Palace, but in rich person terms...

Under the scrutiny of the rest of the Phantom Thieves, he uses Akechi's barely-used Metanav to first guess 'blimp', then when that fails, 'cruise ship'. Thankfully, that gets a hit. Joker's next guesses would've been instruments of war, and he really didn't want to go there.

"Man," Skull says, staring out over the twisted seascape. "That's fucked up."

"To put it mildly," Noir agrees. She doesn't sound as shocked as Joker is.

It's... big. It's very big. Maybe it's just the contrast with the functionally empty space all around it, but the cruise ship feels bigger than any Palace they've tackled so far. And it's all Shido's domain.

Crow has been here a dozen times before, Joker reminds himself. He's doing fine, for a given definition of fine. He's not suddenly going to bite the dust just because Joker followed him in this time.

"Akechi is in here?" Queen confirms, glancing around like she'll be able to spot him, and Joker winces.

"Codenames, please," he begs. "We're dealing with the one who stole Oracle's mom's research. We don't know how much control he has here."

Queen purses her lips, but acquiesces. "You're right. Even though he's not a part of the Phantom Thieves, we'll keep calling him Crow while we're in here."

With his Third Eye activated, Joker scans the front of the ship. No sign of him yet, but the doors shine blue, as if inviting him in.

"You're sure he's actually against Shido?" Oracle asks skeptically, and Joker winces again at the name drop.

In his stead, Fox replies, "Since we're all here alive, that seems to be the case."

"I'm sure," Joker adds.

On their side is a stretch, but Crow is definitely not on Shido's. The way he talked about his benefactor... That hatred was too familiar to be fake.

Joker had never really understood Crow before this week. He was fully aware of that. That had been a core part of their relationship, even, that tentative poking at each other and watching for a reaction, any reaction.

This... This, Joker understands.

My contempt for such people drives my sense of justice, Crow had said, when he was still with them. It isn't some grand reason like society's sake... It's simply an absurd grudge, and extremely personal.

Joker hadn't understood it then, hadn't related to it. He was too far in his own head for that.

Joker recognizes very clearly that his sense of justice was lost somewhere along the way. Or, if not lost entirely, honed into a sharp edge with only one target. He's never cared about the justice of the Phantom Thieves, as long as he's been one.

Objectively, destroying reality as they know it is the worst thing the Prison Master has done by far. Nothing else is comparable. Subjectively, though... All of Akira's hatred is personal.

The Prison Master had damaged him irreparably, and Akira will never forgive it for what it had done to him, to Arsene.

Crow is on Shido's side about as much as Akira is on the Prison Master's side.

"Let's not waste time," Queen tells the group. "Either way, we'll have to find him before we can proceed. Let's go see what we're dealing with."

"Be careful," Oracle says sharply, before they enter. "The security level is through the roof."

Chapter Text

It stings to admit, but Crow is practically carrying the team through Masayoshi Shido's palace.

Logically, Makoto knows that it's to be expected. Crow has been in here who-knows-how-many times, fighting through it all on his own, so of course he'd be ahead of the game. He'd been impatient to go take down Shido immediately, before Makoto convinced him that to be of any help, the Phantom Thieves would have to get used to the palace and its enemies first.

Strictly emotionally speaking, though, Makoto hates that Akechi is so obviously better than them. She can't stand it.

He had already cleared most of the Palace by the time the Phantom Thieves entered it, and they didn't fight a single enemy on the way to the engine room, nor did they need to actually find their way to the engine room. As soon as Makoto deduced they should look for this 'cleaner' person, Joker nodded and took the lead.

He took them through a restaurant, into a side room that looked like it should be locked, through an area that wasn't even on the half of the map they'd grabbed--they were only temporarily stalled by a room that turned the entire group into mice.

Makoto understood Joker was restless--she'd noted that he didn't even take the time to steal any ornaments on his route. He always steals. But when Joker passed two obvious doors and climbed into an exhaust vent, Makoto started questioning exactly what trail Joker was following that was apparently so obvious he didn't even feel the need to point it out.

There's no way to keep track of time in the metaverse, Makoto has tried in the past, but she feels it couldn't have taken them more than twenty minutes to find Crow.

Now that Crow is running them through the palace, much bigger than she ever realized it was, Makoto wonders whether Joker has been here before.

It's an uncharitable thought--Joker would've told them if he'd found this palace before, and he'd waited for all of them to come meet him before entering it today, no matter how restless he'd seemed about waiting. Makoto can't help but wonder anyway. It's either that Joker knows the layout of this palace, or that he and Crow share some kind of bond that allows them to find one another. Makoto wouldn't dare rule out either option.

Of course, Makoto puts it aside. There are many inexplicable things about Akira, but she trusts him. It's the only reason she's willing to let Crow back into the Phantom Thieves. She trusts Joker to always have their best interest in mind.

She'd talked it over with Oracle, in the lobby of the palace that first day, while everyone else was eavesdropping on the cognitions nearby. Makoto had felt that she needed to get Oracle on board before making that kind of decision. After all, as far as they'd known at that point, Crow had killed her mother.

They know it for sure now.

Even so, Oracle hadn't deemed that conversation necessary. "I trust Joker," she'd said simply.

Makoto thinks about when she had first joined the Phantom Thieves, brand new in her role as leader. Sometimes, she'd become so frustrated that her teammates weren't listening. Whenever a member of the vanguard was taken out, Joker would stop listening to her instructions, fighting like he'd lost sight of everything but the enemy. What she said didn't matter anymore.

That frustration was born out of fear, just as Joker's reaction was. They both care too much about this team to stay rational about it.

It used to be a recurring issue, to the point that even Oracle, far into Okumura's palace, got to see Joker going near-feral when one of his teammates was knocked out.

Of course they trust Joker. He consistently cares too much.

As usual, it's one of Oracle's warnings that signifies a turn for the worse.

She calls, "Joker's fast asleep! He can't defend himself!"

Bewildered, Makoto turns to look. By all accounts she should be focusing on the enemy and instructing Shadow or Noir to wake him up, but Joker has never been hit by Sleep ailments before. She'd thought he was immune. Isn't he immune?

"I'm good, Oracle," Joker says calmly, though when Makoto's eyes find him he looks unsteady.

"Huh!?" comes Oracle's voice, bewildered. She sounds troubled when she says, "I was... I was wrong...?"

There's a lot going on, but Makoto doesn't have time to deal with it, as the fairy queen opposing them quickly reminds her. Its partners are already dead, but in the party's distraction, lightning rains down from the sky.

Atavaka materializes instantly, taking away the pain Makoto had barely begun to feel. Joker is clearly not asleep.

Oracle is unsettlingly quiet as Makoto and Noir quickly team up to take down the fairy queen. Makoto bites her tongue and focuses on ending the fight.

Necronomicon has dematerialized already by the time Makoto wipes the sweat off her brow and turns to her party members. Oracle is on the ground, up in Joker's face, staring like she's waiting for him to say 'psych!'

Joker blinks rapidly, leaning away from her.

Maybe they should regroup in the safe room the remainder of the Phantom Thieves are resting in. Makoto quickly surveys the area, but when there are no more shadows in sight, her curiosity burns brighter than her sense of caution.

"But... You're not resistant to it or anything." Oracle sounds petulant as Makoto approaches, but she can detect the underlying hint of unease.

"It's okay, Oracle," Makoto reassures. "No one was hurt."

"Not the point," Oracle huffs, though her voice does sound less weighted after the reminder. "I don't like getting things wrong."

Noir asks, "What happened, though? Didn't you get hit?"

Finally, Joker says, "... I did. I just... have a lot of experience."

This gets him four skeptical looks.

"I have experience with insomnia," Shadow points out. "That doesn't save me from status ailments."

Makoto senses that Joker is getting uncomfortable, but she hesitates on calling a halt to the discussion. This seems important.

Joker shrugs. "I really can't explain it if I tried," he says.

There's a near inaudible note of warning in his tone, and Makoto can't make sense of it. It sends a chill down her spine as her curiosity flickers and dies.

Clueless, Oracle continues, "So you're still affected by it, but you don't completely pass out? Kinda sucks as a perk, but I guess..."

Makoto clears her throat. "We should meet back up with the others."

"I'm sure they're up for swapping out again," Noir agrees. "Oracle, could you take us back there?"

Grumbling, Oracle summons Necronomicon again. Makoto doesn't know if Noir has a similar pit in her stomach from Joker's tone, or if she's just following Makoto's lead--either way, she's grateful.

It's probably not relevant, Makoto tries to convince herself. All that's left is to take Shido and the conspiracy down. How could Joker's so-called 'perks' be relevant?

Chapter Text

The night after Akira decides to leave Ryuji and Morgana to their own devices, Igor tries to chastise him. He tells Akira that he needs to take action to save the world from ruin, needs to form bonds, needs to be rehabilitated.

Akira still doesn't know who he is or what he wants, but the way this man talks about using other people pisses him off.

He grabs the bars of his cell to lean forward, baring his teeth. The bars vibrate under the force.

The wardens look disquieted. Even Igor falls silent.

"I don't care who you think you are," Akira snarls, even as his fear spikes and the prison's temperature seems to drop. "You don't own me, and you don't get to decide how I interact with people."

"How dare you speak to our master that way!" one of the wardens yells, hitting the bars with her baton. Akira flinches away from them when electricity shoots up his arms, and he stumbles back.

Igor holds up a hand. "Calm yourself, Caroline," he says. "The Trickster does not know what he speaks of. He will see soon enough... If he bothers to look."

The shackles keeping him in place burn.

The twin wardens stand at attention outside his cell. They're far more alert than they were before his backtalk.

"Don't try anything funny, inmate," Caroline threatens.

"It would be in your best interest to cooperate."

Akira glares at them both.

He wakes up cold and quiet.

Not every night, but far too many nights after that, he dreams of the Velvet Room.

He dreams of being disobedient, of being a nuisance, of being hit on the shins and shocked by the bars to his cell.

The pain never lasts into the real world, so Akira is able to convince himself it doesn't matter. He doesn't get any more obedient from it.

He does start avoiding sleep.

Not intentionally, usually. He'd just rather do anything than dream of the Velvet Room.

Akira takes up an evening part time job. He starts drinking coffee habitually. He studies through the night sometimes--not that it helps him, since during every test his head is swimming too much to focus. He stays awake until he can't.

When he's lucky, he falls asleep so exhausted that the fuzzy state of mind carries over to his dreams, and he doesn't have the energy to flinch. Sometimes he doesn't move from his cot at all.

Igor has this awful habit of commenting on his daily life in a condescending way. "The people you should have bonded with... They look like they're having trouble. Will they perish in the Metaverse without you, I wonder?", or "No matter where you go, it seems trouble follows you", or "Is this what is truly important to you? Maintaining your honest student life?"

Igor is somehow, in some amount, watching Akira in the real world. The knowledge creeps him out.

When the third part time job isn't enough anymore to distract from the Velvet Room music stuck in his head, Akira searches out piano lessons at Shujin. It's not an official thing, more like senpai helping kouhai in a club capacity.

Watch this, Igor, he thinks viciously, as he tackles the task of making the Velvet Room something real, something tangible.

He thinks he might never get the vague melody of the Velvet Room out of his head, even if the dreams stopped that same day he took up piano. Recalling it is never an issue. It's mimicking the melody that's the hard part, not in the least because everyone is reluctant to teach him.

He's already quiet and keeps his voice low when he does speak, but he makes an extra effort in the music club to appear meek and unintimidating. If he looks even more like a sad wet cat, maybe his fellow students will forget about his criminal record, at least a bit.

Shockingly... That does work. The more time he spends around his senpai looking like a pathetic little meow meow, the less wary they are of him.

It's a long time--but not long enough for him to learn the piano--before Akira realizes the twins aren't as in control as they appear.

Maybe that should've been clearer, the way they call Igor 'master'... They seem so sure of themselves, though.

They defend Igor against any and all of Akira's accusations, and Igor doesn't spare them a second glance. He certainly doesn't step in when Akira spits insults back at the twins.

It's like Igor is everything to them, and they're nothing to him.

Akira isn't sure how true that is, but it really does feel like... Like Caroline and Justine have been here their entire lives, and this is all they've ever known. The more he looks at them, the more he sees the bars all around him, and the lack of door.

It isn't a dream for them. They don't get to wake up somewhere else for a reprieve.

Akira is disinclined to feel understanding for the twin wardens when they scold him and shock him nearly every time he sleeps, but at times, pity wells up.

Aren't they locked up, the same as him? Do they even realize?

Of course they don't.

It doesn't take long to get the basic melody down, but Akira keeps playing piano, keeps trying to capture the nuances of the song. Putting it outside his head and into the real world helps, in some ways. Makes it sound less vaguely threatening, less otherworldly.

He learns to play other things, too. He likes playing piano.

His senpai asks him why he's so obsessed with that one song, once. Akira has no answer for her.

Chapter Text

Having the real Igor back is so odd.

Mechanically, nothing has changed. As Lavenza explained earlier, her master doesn't have his full power back yet, so they work with what they have.

Executing his Personas isn't odd to Akira anymore. What makes things so weird is how nice Igor and Lavenza both are about everything. The lack of being shouted at is disconcerting. He shouldn't miss it, but he does.

It's fine. In the crucial final moments, he can keep improving his Personas, which is what matters. He thought he would've been kicked out of the Velvet Room days ago.

It's also an odd feeling to know his teammates now know exactly what he's doing, when he asks if they can use the MetaNav to go back to the entrance for a minute. They've long stopped questioning it, and he'd already told them it was to change his Personas, but now they know everything.

Chapter Text

He finds Queen first, which is a relief. At least their leader is safe.

"Joker!" she says, pressing against the bars. She returns the sentiment. "You're alright."

"We're getting out of here," Joker tells her.

She's hesitating. "Where... is this place? Did I get locked up in the depths like all those other people? I'm back in my regular clothes..."

She looks away. "Have they decided I belong here, after all?"

Joker moves to catch her eye. "And so what if they have? Are you going to listen?"

Queen laughs without humor. "I've never been very good at being a rebel."

"Whoever told you that," Joker says, "prove them wrong. We haven't lost anyone yet."

Joker has said something similar before--we haven't lost yet. So many times it seemed like they'd been beaten, but Joker had known there was more to come. This time...

Joker doesn't know what's to come, but no one is dead. That's important. They'll face whatever it is together.

Oracle is great. Joker is endlessly fond of her.

He doesn't have to tell her anything. She convinces herself out of her cell, gleefully calls it a real jailbreak, and tells him they're going to beat a god.

The fear he's been carrying the whole year--it doesn't feel so overwhelming when it's set against Oracle's optimism.

"Queen's waiting in the Velvet Room," he tells Oracle. "Can you reconvene with her? I'll keep sending people your way."

She gives him a big grin. "Will do!"

Panther doesn't respond to him. She briefly lights up when she sees him, giving him a smile that seems forced but genuine, but then she wilts and turns her back on him.

Joker crouches to meet her eyes. "Are you going to spend the rest of your life in there?" he asks.

Panther's face is buried in her knees. He can't see an inch of her expression.

Joker is silent. Not to force her to respond, but because he's never been good with words. Panther has always been the one who's good with words.

"Leave me behind," she says eventually, quietly. "I'm not worth all this."

Joker grimaces.

"Shadow is still locked up in one of these cells," Joker says. "Are you going to leave her behind?"

Panther shrinks into herself. Joker goes in for the killing blow.

"I think even if I freed her, when she sees you, she'd just join you in there and never leave. Wouldn't she?"

"Shiho..." Panther mutters.

After a pause, she speaks at a volume he can hear. She doesn't look at him. "When I thought I was gonna die, I... started trembling. I was so scared."

Joker's heart grows heavy.

"At that moment, nothing mattered. The justice of our actions was the last thing on my mind."

"I've been there," Joker says. "I've never risked my life for our justice. It's never been something noble."

For a moment, he thinks Panther is going to ask him about it. She only looks away again.

"You have a conviction I don't have. I always told myself I was doing this for other people... That didn't get me far. It's no wonder we lost."

"We haven't lost anyone yet," Joker says again.

Panther shakes her head. "Sure, but... I'm only distracting from our true purpose. Maybe if I just behaved myself and stayed out of this..."

Joker takes a shaky breath. "Believe me. It doesn't help anyone. I regretted it so much--I don't want you to ever have to feel that sort of regret."

Panther looks at him.

"It's too late now, anyway," she says quietly. "I can't abandon all of you, whether or not I think it's a good idea."

She stands up, and her cell door fades away. Her tail flicks.

Joker exhales slowly. "Most of the Thieves are in the main chamber. Please reconvene with them, and I'll get the rest."

"Joker," she says, after he turns away. Joker turns back.

She purses her lips, shakes her head. "Nevermind. We're going to put an end to this," she says confidently.

It takes a second to spot Akechi. He's in the far corner of his cell, sitting against the wall. He hasn't even looked up.

Joker doesn't crouch to meet his eyes like he'd done for others. Akechi would hate that.

"Are you just going to stay there?" he asks.

Crow scoffs. It's more reaction than he'd gotten from Panther. That's good.

"I would've thought you'd be happy to see me imprisoned," Crow says.

"Then you don't know me at all."

"Less every day," Crow agrees. "Are you saying you'd rather see me go unpunished for my numerous homicides?"

Joker says, "Yeah."

Crow huffs a laugh.

"It doesn't matter what you want," he says after a pause, a new bite to his tone. "I don't belong in your group of thieves."

Joker looks down at him. "You always make things so complicated," he says. "I know what tried to erase us from reality. Let's go beat it up."

Crow looks up at him, finally, narrowing his eyes. "Tried to erase us...?"

"Well?" Joker says. "Are you going to stay there?"

There's a long pause before Crow stands up. Between one blink and the next, his clothes change to his darker metaverse outfit. "Show me," he commands.

Joker will think about how unchanged Akechi seemed, locked in a cell at the end of the world, later. Later. They don't have time for world-rocking realizations right now.

Joker doesn't have time to spiral. When does he ever?

The thought lingers anyway. How long has Akechi been living in a cell, with only death awaiting him on the other side of the bars?

Chapter Text

For the first time, Ann finds herself alone with the transfer student.

They're both waiting for Shiho in the entrance hall, and Ann's nerves are making her restless. It's not that she thinks the transfer student will do anything, really. No one her age has ever actually done anything to hurt her or Shiho, not physically. Ann can't help but wonder, though.

She takes a few steps, until she's standing at Kurusu's side. He gives her a sidelong glance.

"Look," Ann says. "Shiho is my best friend. I don't know what your intentions are, but you better not be scheming anything, got it? I won't let you hurt her."

It's sharper than she intended it to be. She's been tired and stressed. She doesn't take it back, though.

"I'm not going to hurt her," Kurusu says.

Ann glares at him. "I'm sure you aren't. You just happened to talk to Shiho instead of anyone else. Just so you know, just because she looks hurt doesn't mean she's weak. She can kick your ass, easily."

Kurusu nods. His placid agreement pisses Ann off.

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying," she says. Ann knows she doesn't look especially intimidating, but she's serious. If Kurusu tries anything, she'll see him back to jail personally.

After a beat, Kurusu averts his eyes. He says, "I'm worried. She's on Kamoshida's team, right?"

It takes Ann a moment to parse those words. She feels unsettled at how genuine Kurusu sounds.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Ann bristles. She doesn't want to hear it.

Kurusu nods to himself. He raises his hands to his chest. "I don't want her to be stuck in his castle."

The words are careful, and Kurusu's hands move along with them. Ann narrows her eyes at them. Sign language?

Then what he's actually saying gets through to her. She lifts her gaze.

Kurusu seems to be serious. Are his intentions really good?

It's not like Ann is okay with how much Shiho is practicing either. Not with the injuries she's collecting over time. That's something none of them can help, though. What Kurusu is trying to do is give Shiho a break outside of school and practice, and that might actually help. Shiho seemed happy enough about it yesterday.

Ann's shoulders slump. "That's really all?"

Kurusu nods.

"You seem genuine, but still..."

"I'm a delinquent?" Kurusu fills in.

Ann shakes her head. She protests, "That's not what I-!"

Her words hang in the air, but she can't find a way to explain what she wants to explain.

"It's okay," Kurusu says. "I get it."

The thing is, Ann is not the person to listen to rumors. She's just worried about Shiho. Kurusu himself hasn't done anything to deserve her scorn.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I swear I'm not that kind of person."

Not too far away in the busy entrance hall, someone says in a not-quite whisper, "Ew, are they flirting?"

Someone else says, "A whore and a criminal, aren't they perfect for each other?"

Ann feels tired. She can't even get angry at stuff like that anymore, when getting angry feels so pointless. It doesn't fix anything.

She shouldn't have forgotten. The Shujin rumor mill is trash, and never accurate.

"Sorry," she says again. "Come on, let's wait outside. I'll text Shiho where we are."

Chapter Text

He can't find Mona.

He goes around the entire prison complex again, after the rest of the team is already freed and waiting for him in the Velvet Room. He doesn't find Mona.

Joker remembers Lavenza telling him 'they haven't expired yet'. Did he take too long? Did Mona not think anyone was coming for him? Did he just... give up?

Joker has stressed himself out about it properly by the time he steps into the Velvet Room again.

"Oh, Joker!" Noir says.

"I can't find Mona," Joker cuts in, his voice high with distress. Alarm appears on Noir's face.

Lavenza coughs lightly. "I believe you might want to look over there."

Joker follows her gesture, and slumps in relief when he sees Mona peeking around cell bars.

"Dude, you were hiding?" Skull says.

"Sorry," Mona says sheepishly. "I had to... think about some stuff."

Lavenza tells them a story.

"To decide the fate of the world, it chose two people with potential and pitted them against each other. One-" Lavenza indicates Crow- "Goro Akechi--incited the masses' distortion. Had he won, the world would've been destroyed and remade."

Crow narrows his eyes dangerously.

"The other was a Trickster who would stand up against this... That was Akira Kurusu." Lavenza nods at Joker.

"It 'pitted'- How much, exactly, did it control?" Crow says sharply.

"Our circumstances," Joker says easily, long prepared for this question. "Our enemies. The people around us. Never us directly, at least, not recently. It doesn't have control over Persona users." He's aware his voice sounds flat, maybe bitter. There's no point to his anger right now. "It was all a game, and the Persona users were the Prison Master's random variables. Winner-take-all."

Saying the last bit in English gets him several looks. Queen clearly recognizes that he's using a quote from her sister's palace, but she doesn't comment.

Lavenza cocks her head at him, but keeps going. "It saw that Akira Kurusu had great potential, and so it approached him. It helped train him, only to cast him into despair with the use of the masses."

"Hang on," Ann says. "It trained him? When? And why not Akechi too?"

Joker looks at Igor, because this question is directly about the Velvet Room. He still doesn't know much of anything about the Velvet Room.

"Indeed," Igor says, looking back at him. "The Velvet Room can only have one guest at a time. Today is a... special circumstance. Only one Wild Card can sign the contract of the Velvet Room at one time."

"It had taken over the Velvet Room and erased my memories in order to control me," Lavenza explains. "That was most likely to nip in the bud anything that might pose a threat to it. Now that I reflect on when I was separated, I recall that I always felt a disagreement to the word 'rehabilitation.'" She thinks for a second.

Joker watches as the other Phantom Thieves look around the room and come to their own conclusions on the word 'rehabilitation'.

"Of course I did," Lavenza concludes. "It was just a means for the fake to keep you under surveillance."

At this, Crow looks at Joker sharply. Joker nods back at him.

"Basically, Akira was dragged into a game in which the evil god rigged the outcome," Mona summarizes, speaking over their silent exchange.

"But that means..." Crow looks at him intently. "You knew all along that something was off, didn't you? Or was it only in the last month that you began to suspect?"

Joker swallows. He turns to Lavenza. "The surveillance...?"

Lavenza shakes her head. "It used me. It had me telling it what you were doing, to make sure you complied with its 'rehabilitation'. It could never see much on its own."

Seeing Joker's expression, she adds, "I stopped speaking the truth after the things you spoke about in the interrogation chamber. I wasn't sure why, back then, but... I felt that it would be dangerous to pass on that information."

Crow is fully filled in, but the rest of the Phantom Thieves are lost. Joker knows he'll have to explain it, because Crow sure won't.

"I knew it was spying on me," Joker says shortly, "I just didn't know how. It's why I never told you."

"I understand," Queen says.

"I don't," Oracle pipes up. "If you didn't want it to know that you knew, how did you know?"

"Uh... What?" Skull says.

This is the hardest part. Joker never seriously considered how he'd tell his friends this, because he didn't think he'd ever get the chance to.

"Lavenza told me," he says. "At least, Caroline did. She gave me a chance."

"I sense that you're telling the truth," Lavenza says, "and yet, I don't remember this exchange happening."

"Lavenza told me and then sent me back in time," Joker further clarifies.

"'Scuse me?" Oracle says.

"I see," Lavenza says.

Crow brings a hand to his chin. "The missing puzzle piece," he murmurs.

"Hey, hey!" Panther waves her hands. "How are you guys accepting this so easily? That doesn't make any sense at all!"

Joker can see cogs turning in Queen's head. "When you say that, you don't mean just a few minutes of time, right...?"

"No," Crow says easily. "Joker told me some things while he wasn't in his right mind after the interrogation, then refused to explain them. From what he said, it was at least several weeks, but if my suspicions are correct..."

"I was sent back in time to April," Joker agrees. That's the easy part. Now the hard part. "From today. December twenty-fourth."

Queen pales immediately, the first one to connect the dots. "Does that mean... We lose...?" she chokes out.

Joker shakes his head decisively. "Good news, we've already passed the point of certain death. The bad news is that that means I have no idea what comes next."

Joker thinks the troubled looks are about the uncertain future, because that's what he's troubled about, until Shadow asks, "We all... died? Everyone?"

Joker winces. This is not his favorite subject, and he can't even answer a simple 'yes', but the actual answer isn't any better than 'yes', either.

Crow raises his hand. "I went missing, apparently."

"Oh, of course you get to survive," Oracle grumbles. "More godly plans?"

Joker is shaking his head before she's even finished speaking. "I didn't know it then... but Crow most likely died in Shido's palace. Futaba--sorry, past Futaba--told me that he wasn't coming back."

"If that's the case, why did you deem me missing?" Crow asks suspiciously.

"Not that this isn't all fascinating-" Fox says.

"And important," Queen adds.

"-and important, yes. But I have to inquire, how much time do we have to discuss such things? If we know the future is uncertain, we will not improve our chances by discussing the past here."

"Time passes differently in the Velvet Room," Lavenza says. "You could stay for twenty-four hours or more and mere seconds will have passed when you return to reality. Though I would not recommend staying outside of reality for too long, after an attempt was made to erase you."

"Now that we've established that, why isn't everyone freaking out about this? I mean, freaking time travel?" Skull waves a hand, mildly hysterical. He spoke up so quickly he almost talked over Lavenza.

Fox looks like he might have more to say, but he's cut off.

"It makes sense," Queen says. "No, it does. Think about it. Joker's smooth navigation of Palaces, all the Personas he has that we haven't seen in the Palaces as shadows..."

"Oh, uh," Joker says. He doesn't want to intrude on their leader's train of thought, but he feels the need to clarify, "actually, that was all new to me too."

She stares at him.

Joker hears Crow mutter, "Of course it was."

"I thought the multiple personas thing was an ability Lavenza gave me along with a second chance," he elaborates. "But, apparently...?"

"It should always have been a possibility with access to the Velvet Room," Lavenza says. For Queen, she explains, "The Personas you did not see him recruit, he gained here, with the help of fusion."

"Huh," Skull says. "Always wondered about that."

"It is odd that the impostor did not teach you that at all, in the past that never was," Lavenza says, with a thoughtful frown. "It did not seem particularly reluctant to do so, from what I remember. It was, in fact, you who was reluctant."

Joker bristles. He shoots back, "You try getting a guillotine shoved in your face and being told to kill yourself, and responding calmly."

Lavenza huffs. "I believe I would be quite composed."

"They what?" Panther shrieks. Joker winces at the volume.

"Not important," he says quickly. All the anger drains out of his voice.

Mona sputters. "I disagree!"

Joker looks away from them. "It told me to kill Arsene to fuse a stronger Persona. I didn't like that."

"What?" Skull says. "Arsene is hella strong!"

"Yes," Lavenza says, "Akira put quite the effort, time, and money into keeping Arsene up to par. Is this because you did not want to be asked to fuse him again?"

Joker shrugs, looks away. He's willing to talk about a lot of things now that he knows he's not being spied on, but not about why he refuses to be separated from Arsene. He doesn't want to even touch on how it felt to have his soul ripped out of his chest.

Knowing it happened is enough to fuel his will to fight a thousand times over. Joker is afraid that if he looks deeper, that anger will shatter and take him down with it.

There's a short silence, until they realize Joker is not going to give a response. To his relief, they allow it.

"Uh... Money...?" Panther sounds confused as she repeats what Lavenza said.

"To summon from the Compendium-" Lavenza holds up her massive book- "one needs to pay money. The Velvet Room is also based on cognition, and as such we cannot give such power for free, no matter how much we may want to."

"Capitalism," Panther grimaces, nodding along. "That sucks."

"My apologies," Queen says, taking her chance when there is an opening in the conversation, "but I'm still confused. What do you mean it was all new to you, too, Joker?"

Oh, good. Everyone is now looking at him, waiting for him to explain his biggest regret.

Joker shrinks in on himself.

"I wasn't a Phantom Thief before this year," he says. "I didn't get any skills from the time travel. All the time travel got me was trauma."

Shadow, in particular, is looking sad now, so Joker hastily adds, "Actually, I did learn piano. Time traveling gave me piano skills."

"I would like to see that sometime," Noir says, her voice light. Joker appreciates her backup. He doesn't even know where to start addressing the looks he's getting.

"Um, I'm confused," Panther says, raising a hand and pulling the room's attention to herself. "If you weren't a Phantom Thief, how did you know about all this stuff? I mean, the stuff about the malicious god and all."

"I believe I can answer that," Lavenza says. "The impostor regularly pulled Akira into the Velvet Room in his dreams. This was its intent all along. I can't imagine that would stop entirely, even if Akira wasn't partaking in its game. Or, I suppose, especially if Akira wasn't partaking in its game."

Joker nods.

"That would be how you convinced me, or rather Caroline, to tell you things, correct?" Lavenza asks.

Joker winces. "Not intentionally." He swallows, and hesitates. "I just happened to be there as she was dying. She was actually looking for the real Igor, but I was her only option. I'm sorry."

Lavenza shakes her head. "Don't be. I do not remember dying, after all."

"She told me to find her real master to ask for help," Joker clarifies his apology. "I didn't do that. I went into the Velvet Room to face her killer." Like an idiot, he doesn't say out loud.

"Dude, what!?" Skull says.

Joker shrugs. He has no excuse except that he was really fucking angry.

"Ah," Queen says faintly, when he doesn't elaborate. "This is where we died, wasn't it? That's how you know we've now 'passed the point of certain death', because this place has been reclaimed."

Joker nods.

"Did we really all..." Noir trails off. "I mean... If that's the case, do we even stand a chance here?"

"We have three more members now than you had at the time," Joker says firmly, refusing to humor her self-doubt. "Like me, Shadow never because a Phantom Thief, and Crow went missing beforehand."

Shadow looks up curiously when her code name is mentioned. "Me? I wasn't?"

Joker braces himself, before he says, "... You were in the hospital for most of the year. You never saw the metaverse."

Panther whirls her head around, staring at Shadow with wide eyes.

"... Sorry if I was pushy at the start of the year, asking you two over to Leblanc all time," Joker says. "That's why."

Shadow pales. She's realized the likely culprit behind her hospitalization.

Oracle hums to get his attention. "What about me? You mentioned a past Futaba, so I was with the Phantom Thieves, wasn't I?"

Joker nods, thankful for the change in subject. Shadow doesn't need everyone's eyes on her while she processes. "You started coming to Leblanc in July."

Oracle gapes. "July!"

"Before Queen joined, I'm pretty sure. If I knew how that happened..."

"I could've seen the flying bank!" Oracle whines.

"It was just a bank, but up in the sky," Queen says. "It didn't have wings or anything."

"Still!"

Joker relaxes, bit by bit, as the interrogation against him slows.

There will be more questions. Maybe, if he survives this, he'll feel ready to answer all of them. Maybe.

Chapter Text

Having exams the week before Christmas Eve is some kind of cruel and unusual punishment.

Morgana won't let him do anything except study for the entire week, and it's not like Akira can give him a good reason to back off. Like Makoto always says, they need to make sure they don't stand out. That applies to Akira especially. So he pretends to study.

It's not that he already knows the material. He has no idea whether he does. He never even got to see the results of these exams after he took them, because he'd been dead by the time the results came out.

When that's what he's facing in the near future, nothing else seems important enough to take up space in his brain. None of the information he's told lingers. He can't even sneak out of his room at night, when Morgana is asleep, because he's so exhausted all the time from doing nothing.

He tries not to be irritable towards his friends. He can't let it show that there's anything wrong.

"That doesn't seem right," Morgana mutters from inside of his desk. It reminds him to continue his exam, even if he barely has any idea what he's writing or relaying to Morgana.

The studying didn't help. Akira has had the knowledge he needs on this test in his brain for months, and it doesn't matter. The questions don't even look vaguely familiar.

There's his silver lining to this whole situation. If he dies again, he won't ever have to see the final exam rankings.

"Hey, Akira, are you okay?" Morgana asks on Wednesday evening, just before they fall asleep. The dreaded question.

Akira is not okay. "I'm going to die," he says with numb lips. He only remembers at the last word to add a slight whine, to imply he's being melodramatic.

He wonders if he's missed something. If he's chosen wrong again. All the things he was unsure of... Leaving Kasumi out of it, heading further down through Mementos with each new palace, leaving that unknown palace in Odaiba be; he won't be sure those are the right choices until it's too late to change anything. And he doesn't think he'll get another chance.

It doesn't matter how much he's prepared, how ready he felt a few weeks ago. The closer he gets to the 24th of December, the more sure Akira gets of his own doom.

"You're not going to fail," Morgana says confidently.

Akira stares at him. The words don't feel entirely real. He doesn't feel entirely real.

"Even if you do badly on these exams, you did great on the first two exams, remember? Those count towards passing the year too, don't they? There's no way you can fail now."

Right. The exams.

Akira tries to respond appropriately, agree with Morgana or protest about the exams, but he feels sick when he tries.

He rolls over and closes his eyes. Maybe he'll feel better about it in the morning.

Right after exams end on Thursday, Akira goes to Shibuya and buys out half of Untouchable.

Iwai has new models and protectors, and Akira has nine million yen. He's not stingy with his spending today.

As usual, Iwai has no notable reaction to the ridiculous amount of random trinkets Akira sells him and the ridiculously expensive equipment Akira is able to buy from him. Iwai is great. Akira wishes he had more time with him.

That's a depressing thought. Akira bags his last model gun and quickly heads outside, before Iwai can catch sight of the look on his face.

He doesn't go far. He swallows down his dread and asks Caroline to open the door to the Velvet Room.

He doesn't have much time left to get stronger Personas.

He's going to push for Mementos tomorrow. Makoto still has an identified target on the list, he's pretty sure, and there's no school tomorrow, so he shouldn't have to push too hard. That will really be his last chance to use the Velvet Room before it starts using him.

Instead of leaving when he runs out of Personas to fuse, Joker asks the twins to run him through the challenge battles again.

Most of them, he's completed, but there are still a few he's failed at. When Queen is simply one of his cognitions, it's up to him to give the orders, and Joker already established long ago that he's a bad leader.

That's not fair to himself. He doesn't fail the advanced battles against the S.E.E.S. boy and the Investigation Team Boy, he just doesn't earn the rewards the twins have prepared for him. He still wins. That's what matters. He still wins against them in the end.

It feels kind of terrible, to agree to be Iwai's witness. He doesn't even think about it until he's already on the train home and realizes how little time he has left.

Iwai won't have a witness. He won't even have a backup plan if, due to that lack of witness, he gets murdered in a back alley. He asked Akira, of all people, to take care of his son. He wouldn't have asked if he had any other option.

Iwai calls him before he gets home, like he heard Akira think from halfway across the city. "Hey," he says, "about that witness talk earlier. It's too late to get cold feet now, you hear? You can't bail on me."

Akira can't get his lips to move.

"You know I'm gonna look out for you, right?" Iwai adds. "If it comes down to it, I won't let anything happen to you. Still, considering who we're dealing with, we gotta be careful."

Akira leans against a wall, and tells himself it's to leave space in the alley for other people to walk through, instead of to steady himself.

"Okay," he says, and it's quieter than he means it to be. "Got it."

Iwai might need him. Akira will just have to avoid dying, won't he?

"I'll be there," he promises, and it rings true for the first time.

Through the distortion of the speaker, Akira hears Iwai chuckle. "You got guts, I know. But guts alone won't get you by."

Iwai continues, "Look, I know I shouldn't be getting a minor into this shit." He pauses. "You're the only one I can rely on. I wouldn't be asking if I had a better option."

"I know," Akira says, and he does. An odd calm has settled over him.

He's needed alive. Maybe it is that simple.

Chapter Text

Akira doesn't get to push for Mementos. The official statement concerning Shido and the Phantom Thieves is released, and the rest of the Thieves start getting just as freaked out as he is.

Akira has had the entire school year to deal with the idea of the masses being controlled by something bigger than himself. The rest of the Thieves are new to it. Of course they're freaking out.

By the time they reconvene at Leblanc, it's evening.

"So what are we going to do?" Ann is the first to pose the question. "We can't change the hearts of all of Shido's followers."

"There's too many of them, and not enough information," Haru says.

"Are we any kind of match against the national power?" Yusuke sounds hopeless.

"Targeting individuals isn't going to change anything." Shiho sounds quiet in a way Akira hasn't heard her be in a long time.

"Don't tell me you're all going to give up," Akechi says sharply.

"Of course not!" Ann exclaims. "But what can we do when the entire public is against us?"

"Sis says there won't be a case against Shido at this rate," Makoto says, her face pinched. "None of this makes sense."

"Joker?" Akechi asks, fishing for ideas, and Akira suddenly finds himself the target of scrutiny.

He looks away. They're almost there, but not quite. He still doesn't know how they get to the point of the apocalypse. They might just have to wait.

So far, everything is going according to plan. They're still on track, heading straight to their deaths. He hasn't failed yet.

"... Mementos," Morgana says suddenly. All attention turns to him. "There might be something we can do there."

That... makes sense. It would be Mementos, wouldn't it? The place that has triggered quiet flashbacks in him more times than Akira can count.

Mementos doesn't look like the apocalypse did--the apocalypse will look like Mementos. It's a chilling thought.

"There's something we can do there?" Ryuji asks, eyes wide.

"There might be," Morgana repeats. He speaks with conviction. "Remember how I said Mementos was the palace of the general public?"

"I see," Akechi says. "You mean to imply we could change the cognition of the masses, all at once? What are you basing this off of?"

"There's a Treasure hidden in Mementos," Morgana says. "I'm sure of it now. It has to be the source of all distortions. The Palaces were never natural, remember?"

"And stealing it would change the hearts of society at large," Makoto concludes. Her words are quiet.

"If everyone's hearts grow to hold Shido responsible for his actions, things might change in our favor," Morgana agrees.

"Hang on," Futaba says. "I asked this ages ago and you didn't answer, and now it's actually important. Who is 'everyone'? Is it Tokyo? The entire nation? The whole world?"

"I don't think we should mess with the hearts of the whole world," Haru says uneasily, sounding like she's expecting this to be an unpopular opinion. Everyone nods along, though--except, Akira notices, Akechi.

Akechi is looking back at him. Akira didn't nod along either.

"Don't worry about that," Akira says. His voice isn't any louder than usual, but it's assured, catching the attention of the room as a whole. "The scale of Mementos is far smaller than that."

"Sounds like we have a plan, then!" Ryuji says enthusiastically. Akira appreciates him.

The rest of the room is looking at Akira oddly. He doesn't elaborate.

"It's true that Mementos doesn't have a hundred million shadows in it," Futaba allows doubtfully. "Even if we've only seen part of it, it's not big enough for the population of Japan, much less the world."

"Even if it's on a smaller scale," Morgana says, "what we do in Mementos will have consequences. Whatever created this cognitive world to begin with is probably sleeping at the bottom of Mementos. We'll be destroying that. Do you understand what that means?"

"Give it to us straight, Mona," Ryuji says.

"We'll be destroying the heart of the cognitive world!" Morgana hisses. "If the cognitive world loses substance, we won't be able to sneak around in Palaces anymore, or change any hearts."

That is a cold realization for Akira.

"We'll lose our Personas," Makoto sums up all his spinning thoughts in one sentence.

"You did agree to disband, after all," says Akechi. Akira doesn't like his haughty tone.

"That was all a lie and you know it." Futaba points an accusing finger at him.

"We would have to leave this chapter of our lives behind," Haru says. She looks deeply troubled.

That feeling is echoed all around her. Akira knows for however uncaring Akechi acts, this possibility can't leave him unaffected either. He's been using the metaverse longer than any of them.

Nothing could change Akira's mind on destroying the source of the distortion. There is no alternative. But the idea that even if they manage to win the upcoming battle, he might lose Arsene anyway... it's a fresh dread.

"I think we have to," Ann says. She stands up, makes herself heard. "If society refuses to see it, we'll make them see."

"It would be a fitting last act," Yusuke agrees.

"So, Leader?" Morgana asks. "What do you think about all this?"

Makoto is deep in thought.

"Or should we have a vote?" Akechi suggests.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Makoto says, steel entering her tone. "This is our only course of action."

No one objects. A grim silence settles.

It doesn't take long for Futaba to stop tolerating it.

"Come on, Makoto, say something." Futaba pokes her, her tone forced into something light. "It's officially our last mission. Give us a speech!"

"I've never really been good at speeches..."

"Whatever you come up with will be good enough," Shiho assures her.

Makoto takes a deep breath. "It's been fun, everyone. Let's give it a happy ending."

Futaba snickers. She gets Makoto's betrayed doe eyes turned on her.

"I take it you have a plan?" Sojiro says mildly behind the counter, and Akira is abruptly reminded that he can't hear Morgana.

"Something like that, anyway," Ann says cheerfully. "We'll make it work."

"You should've been the one with the speech," Makoto mutters.

The Velvet Room takes him that night. Akira is slightly calmer than the last time, because now he knows what must happen before the final battle.

He wonders if the Prison Master will allow him to make use of the Velvet Room on their last trip into Mementos. There was more he wanted to do. He still has Kohryu in lockdown. If he can't take Kohryu out, he's going to be mad about it.

Maybe he should've been more scared.

The Prison Master toys with him as always, and Akira fights the urge to bare his teeth at him as always, and then something he says startles the usually immovable twins.

"It seems this is the limit of humanity," the Prison Master says, and is Akira imagining it, or is that glee in his eternal grin?

Caroline and Justine are pale. Frightened.

"What are you saying?" Akira's voice is sharp. He honestly can't figure out how this is different from all the other times the Prison Master has berated him in vague terms, but the twins' expressions have his heart in his throat.

"The time of ruin is nigh," the Prison Master smiles. "One born from man's own heart, that none can escape."

The Prison Master lets him go. Akira wakes up in a cold sweat.

Chapter Text

At the crucial moment, when the only hope left is the hope gathered at the Phantom Thieves' feet, Joker feels a new possibility within him. Wordlessly, he accepts. Arsene takes a new form.

Arsene takes a new form, and it wasn't forced upon him. It wasn't coerced from him. Joker isn't destroyed in the process. He's not losing anything, his chest isn't caving in, he feels a sense of triumph he hasn't felt since the very first time he met Arsene. After all this time, the chains snap.

Joker has grown as a person, and it was on his own terms, not on someone else's.

He's not thinking about what he might lose when he destroys the metaverse once and for all. He's only thinking about the people who are putting their hopes in the Phantom Thieves.

"That's our wild card," Mona says, the affection in his voice all-encompassing. His voice makes the others fall quiet.

"I knew you could do it," Mona says, proud. "You're my partner, after all. Don't forget that, okay? That goes for everyone. Don't forget who you are."

Queen's voice quivers. "Mona, what are you saying?"

Mona walks over and puts a paw on humanity's treasure with a smug air, though he doesn't have the usual pep in his step.

"Thanks for everything, gang," he says.

"Mona-chan," Noir sniffs. "If you really have to leave..."

"No," Shadow says, aghast.

"It was all thanks to you, right, Mona?" Panther says quietly. "You're really cool, you know that?"

Mona smiles. "Of course I do."

The cracked and battered ground starts glowing, overtaking the sunset and swallowing the sky.

When Joker blinks open his watering eyes, there's a jolt of fear as he registers the waist-deep bloody water. His heart doesn't get a chance to start racing--the water starts breaking apart like it's glass under the weight of the sunlight.

The next moment, everything is glowing. Everything, not just the remnants of Mementos that Akira never wanted to see again.

"The whole world is a product of cognition," Morgana explains, "not just the metaverse. It can be freely changed and remade."

When Akira turns around, Morgana is looking right at them all.

"Mona!" Queen gasps. She reaches for him. "You're...!"

Morgana doesn't look quite real anymore. Even as the rest of the light around them breaks apart and dies, he keeps shining, like he's determined to stay for a little while longer.

"Remember, there's no such thing as the 'real' world," he tells them. "What each person sees and feels, those are what shape reality."

Panther isn't the only one crying anymore.

"Humans have the power to change the world. They just... forgot about that for a bit. Don't forget, okay?"

Morgana dies the way Caroline did, except that Morgana dies smiling.

In the silence that follows, the real world's chatter fades back in, as if nothing ever happened. All around them, people go about their day, rushing to catch a train or talking on the phone or apologizing for bumping into another person.

"Mona..." Futaba says, her voice wavering on the exhale.

Quietly, Yusuke says, "Does that mean the metaverse is... gone?"

"I don't have the MetaNav anymore," Haru confirms, her voice steadier than anyone's.

They destroyed the metaverse. Mona went with it. So why does Joker still feel so whole?

He stares at his hands, even while his teammates keep talking around them. He doesn't feel like he's dying, and not once did he feel like he lost part of himself. He didn't rip himself apart in the process of destroying the metaverse. The only ache in his chest is the same one he's carried around since April.

There's no such thing as the 'real' world, echoes Morgana's voice. They didn't really destroy anything.

Arsene has lost substance, but it wasn't taken from him. He's not going to die.

"Akira?" Shiho asks, her voice soft but alarmed all the same.

Akira realizes he's crying when no one else is anymore. His eyes are wide and wet as he looks at her. His fear is collapsing in on itself, and all it leaves behind is overwhelming relief.

"I thought it would hurt more," he breathes.

Shiho steps forward to offer a hug, and Akira starts crying in earnest.

Chapter Text

Joker can tentatively say he's set a routine of sorts, in his current situation.

Panther has called for another trip into the Palace. It's their fourth, or maybe fifth. They've been on enough trips that Joker is settling into his new role.

Of course, that sense of belonging can never last.

Joker trails behind the Phantom Thieves when they enter the Palace, his footsteps silent, and no one sees the look on his face when the Velvet Room door appears in a flash of blue.

"My master would like to speak with you," Justine says, perfectly calm, as if she hadn't just appeared from thin air.

When she steps forward, Akira startles back, but she only unlocks the cell door for him.

It looks the same as it had when he'd last seen it. Is it weeks ago, already? It feels like no time at all.

Akira had thought... Well, he hadn't thought about it exactly, but he'd assumed the door showing up was a special occasion. A feature of the apocalypse, maybe. Obviously, he was wrong--the apocalypse looks nothing like this.

His heart is still pounding in his throat as he steps through the door. It won't be a fight, he tells himself, but his insides freeze when blue envelops him.

Joker is back in chains, back in the prison fatigues he wears in his dreams. He doesn't exactly like wearing his Phantom Thief outfit, but this is worse.

It's just another mask. It's a role to play. Joker can do that.

He walks up to the bars, his hands loosely by his sides. Justine is already there, even though Joker could've sworn she entered the doorway behind him.

"I see you're making progress," the Prison Master says, approving, and a chill trickles down Joker's spine.

"You better keep training hard!" Caroline tells him. To underline her point, she hits the bars with her baton, a metallic clang that has Joker freezing. "Slacking won't cut it."

Joker bites his tongue. He's wildly aware, thanks.

"Your allies will be invaluable in this game," the Prison Master grins. "Have you yet noticed the benefits of the bonds you share?"

Joker makes his mouth move, forces his throat to work. Hoarsely, he says, "Yeah."

"In that case, you will be overjoyed with our new function," Justine says.

"It is time I introduce you to the aid we will be providing," the Prison Master says.

Joker pays attention. He's decided he will take any help he can get, no matter who's offering. It's the only reason he's playing along.

The Prison Master waves a hand, and a pair of guillotines appear next to its desk. Joker keeps his confusion off his face the best he can.

"The method I will provide for you," it announces, "is fusion. By executing your old selves, you give birth to new power."

"A joyous occasion," Justine asserts.

Dread sinks deep into Joker's gut. They're not asking what he thinks they're asking, right?

Caroline says, "What are you waiting for? Hand over those personas of yours, and we'll make 'em into something better."

Two guillotines. The only two Personas he has are Arsene and Pixie. He'd shied away from recruiting any more after Pixie had inserted herself into his mind, because it'd been mildly terrifying.

This is worse.

"No," Joker says. "I'd rather not."

Caroline bristles, and Joker immediately knows he's said something wrong. "It's not optional, inmate!"

Joker was going to play along--that decision had been made not even a week ago and he's barely had the chance to act on it yet--but he can't see a way to go along with this. They're expecting him to, but Joker doesn't see how he's supposed to survive this.

"I'll try it another time," he says, doing his best to steady his voice. "I only have two Personas. I can recruit more and come back."

"Can you count?" Justine says, cold as ice. She gestures at the guillotines. "Two selves is enough."

"Or are you scared?" Caroline sneers, something wild behind her eyes.

"Now, now," the Prison Master speaks up. His mild tone is unchanged. "It seems the prisoner is simply slow to understand. The execution of Personas is not permanent. Each of your Personas will be registered in the Compendium, ready to answer your call, should you have need of them."

The Prison Master is a liar. It enjoys messing with Joker, changing the rules to its liking. Joker is never losing Arsene to the claws of the Prison Master again.

Joker's chest burns with phantom pain, but he keeps his hands by his sides, clenched into fists. His voice is firmer. "I'll come back here."

Caroline looks, for some reason, betrayed, before that too turns into anger. "You impertinent-!"

"How ungrateful," Justine says.

Joker grits his teeth and doesn't point out that they're asking him to kill himself. They won't care.

When Joker glances at the door he stepped in through, there's a wall at his back instead.

"I'm afraid this is an essential step in your rehabilitation," the Prison Master says. "To reject it is to turn your back on your rehabilitation entirely, and let the world fall to ruin. Would you give up on your world so soon?"

In his mind, Arsene snarls.

Joker clenches his jaw and takes a seat on the cold stone floor to take some pressure off his leg. He might be here a while.

This is all a game to the Prison Master, Joker knows. To keep the game going, it'll have to let him out of here eventually. His captors know it, too. In their eyes, it's only a matter of who submits first--a test of will.

What a pointless attempt.

Did they really think he'd let himself be executed after a few pretty words about power? Does he look that desperate? He'd thought he was better at masking it.

Joker has been broken once already, and he won't willingly step into the same jaws. He won't break, because it has nothing to do with his strength of will. Joker doesn't want to die. Losing Arsene will kill him.

This time, he isn't going to die until he's sure he can take the Prison Master with him.