Chapter Text
It was a late Sunday afternoon, when the Phantom Thieves—plus Goro Akechi—emerged back in reality within Hibiya Park. "So...all that's left now is to send the Calling Card, yes?" asked Akechi.
"That's the plan," said Akira Kurusu, stuffing his hands into his pockets. (It helped sell the image that he wasn't tired as all get-out.)
"Are we still going to wait to send the Calling Card?" asked Shiho Suzui. "I know we had discussed waiting until right before they conduct a search warrant on the 20th..." she said, thinking of how quickly three weeks could go by.
"...I would have to ascertain how our infiltration affected Niijima-san," admitted Akechi, looking directly at Akira. "She saw your face; she might make connections and strike early."
Akira shrugged. "We'll just have to roll with the punches."
"...as you so often do," relented Akechi, looking up at the sky. "I suppose this is where we part ways, for the day; do let me know if you have anymore 'Mementos' targets lined up. I find that other world fascinating..."
"Yeah yeah, whatever," grumbled Ryuji Sakamoto, trying to brush the detective off.
As everyone made to depart—Ryuji going off with Shiho and Ann Takamaki to hang out; Futaba Sakura trailing after Yusuke Kitagawa to see what 'people-watching' was like; Akechi leaving by himself—Makoto Niijima lingered by Haru Okumura and Akira. "Is something wrong, Mako-chan?" asked the former.
"...just thinking about my sister's distortions, that's all," she murmured. "...could...we talk about it?" she asked, looking tiredly between Haru and Akira.
Morgana, popping out of Akira's schoolbag, spoke for them. "Why wouldn't we?"
xxxx
That evening, Sojiro Sakura closed Leblanc early, if only to give the trio some privacy. "I'd rather not overhear anything I shouldn't," murmured the old man.
As Akira quietly brewed some coffee, he listened intently to Makoto and Haru talk about their experiences in Sae Niijima's Palace. The description of the third Will Seed's memories made Haru wince. "...I remember overhearing how angry your sister was, in the Student Council Room," she said, thinking all the way back to June the 14th. "I only thought about how Principal Kobayakawa had forced you into such an unpleasant set of circumstances...but I didn't think as deeply about the situation with your sister..."
"It wouldn't have been your place to intervene," relented Makoto. "Not with how poorly I had handled my 'investigation' into the Phantom Thieves...and I wouldn't have wanted anyone prying into family matters regardless..." Shaking her head, she moved on. "So...tell me about the interrogation."
Haru quietly explained, even after Akira set down cups of piping hot coffee. It was a heady brew that made the awkwardness more bearable.
By the end of it all, Makoto's teeth were clenched. "...I wonder...if she's aware of any injustices within the police force...but that would explain her Treasure..."
"You saw it?" asked Akira.
"Only a vague shape within the haze," remarked Morgana, his body sprawled along the top of a booth.
"...we won't know for sure, but I think it's a copy of my father's police notebook," said Makoto. "I've looked at the real deal, back when we were investigating Kaneshiro. I can only imagine what my sister thought about it, when she first read it...I wonder if that's when she first decided that living for justice was a fool's errand..."
Haru, hands wrapped around her hot mug, said, "When Akira and I went about deceiving her on the first floor...she seemed almost desperate, to believe us...and then she seemed so betrayed, when I broke him out of the interrogation room..."
"Her profession is a fiercely competitive one as it stands," mused Akira, staring quietly at his reflection in his own cup of coffee. "To not only go in as an attractive woman...but a relatively young one, whose father had passed away in a tragic 'hit and run'? She must have been seen as easy pickings: a proverbial damsel in distress..."
Makoto's scowl was palpable. "...she's been through so much...what could I have done differently, to keep her from becoming so distorted...?"
"You can't think lot that," warned Morgana. "You can't change the past."
"What my cat said," Akira said, much to said feline's annoyance. "There's only what you can do now...so just think about what you want to put in the Calling Card."
"...right." Makoto sighed, downing the rest of her coffee in one gulp. "By fair means or foul, my sister has become resolute in her distorted view of the world...so it will require an even greater resolve on my part to set things right."
Haru politely clapped. "That's the spirit, Mako-chan!" With a sweet smile, she added, "Don't take it for granted..."
The shadow of Kunikazu Okumura's death passed over them like a dark cloud; Makoto could only grimly nod.
"...now we wait," murmured Akira, wondering what would come next.
"...are you sure you want to stick with the plan?" asked Makoto. "If sister was willing to get that physical with you inside her own cognition...then what will happen if you get interrogated by someone who's actually involved with the Conspiracy...?"
Akira shrugged, projecting an image of strength. "I'll just have to keep my mouth shut."
Haru sighed, still uncomfortable at the prospect. "...you're not very good at doing that..."
"Hey; I'll be fine, okay?" he said. I've been through this before; I know what to expect.
xx
Day: October 30th, 2016
Got an extensive lesson in how our local courts work. (Nothing involving actual crimes, Sojiro. Don't panic!)
It was real educational. Miss Prez got a fire lit under her about justice, and stuff.
Also, Okumura-senpai... (Akira briefly considering writing about how Haru looked in the cocktail dress and derby hat, but decided against it. I might go on for multiple paragraphs.) ...well, what can I say? She can't stop being Perfect™.
And no, Futaba, I don't care if you and the whole world calls me a simp. I will die on this hill!
xxxx
The subsequent days came quickly...
xxxx
/Monday: October 31, 2016/
During a 'free study' period—courtesy of Sadayo Kawakami, bless her—Akira noted his phone messages from two separate people.
Akechi: Niijima-san has been rather agitated, today.
Akechi: She's requested some officers to do another dive into Sojiro Sakura's old records.
Akechi: If she decides to go after his suitability as a probation officer, you may be left to the wolves.
Akira: Thanks for the heads-up.
Meanwhile, from Futaba:
Futaba: ugh
Futaba: had to listen to a pair of goons interrogate Sojiro -.-
Akira: Was he okay?
Futaba: pfft
Futaba: they were practically EZ mode
Futaba: Sojiro knows his stuff. and his rights.
Akira: so they were less stubborn than Sae Niijima
Futaba: yup
Futaba: tho he's prob'ly gonna ask what's up
Futaba: just sayin C.C
Akira: got it
It's so tiresome, Akira couldn't help but wonder.
(If nothing else, a trip to Akihabara — wherein he witnessed Shinya Oda defeat the pro gamer Takekuma in a close contest, and then speak graciously about winning and losing — made the day slightly more bearable...)
xxxx
/Tuesday: November 1, 2016/
The reminder during homeroom that Dr. Takuto Maruki would be leaving on November the 18th lit a fire under Akira, because he was honestly going to miss the kindly counselor. Visiting him felt proper, given that they hadn't had an in-depth conversation for a month, now...
"So, what's your opinion about the Phantom Thieves?"
...but he hadn't expected Maruki's question to start like that. "Pardon?"
"The ones who claim to steal the desires of criminals, allegedly forcing them to confess," Maruki reiterated. "Believe it or not, I've taken an academic interest in them."
"...why?" asked Akira, honestly curious. "You a fan?"
Maruki smiled. "You could say that," he admitted. "After our conversation at Leblanc, I've been working incredibly hard on my paper...because I had the epiphany that my research and the Phantom Thieves' work are rooted in the same principles. Thus, analyzing them from my own perspective was warranted." He then proceed to lay out his own analysis about the Phantom Thieves' methods, insofar as the public knew of them: the calling cards, and their verbiage with regards to a target's desires; whether or not a material proxy for desires could exist outside of mere cognition; and, highlighting an old example regarding cookies and the law of scarcity, made a more direct argument. "If your desire regarding the cookies was 'stolen', your skewed perception would be removed, thus ending its effect on your sense of taste. What does that sound like?"
"...the change of heart," Akira relented, a strange twinge of anxiety going down his spine.
"Exactly: that's the basis of my theory," he explained. "When they 'steal desires', it's no mere metaphor, but something made actual, through an unknown mechanism. How the Phantom Thieves pulled it off is unknown...but whatever they do to actualize desires into something physical and tangible, it allows them to take those away...so what framework would allow them to do that...?"
As Maruki began hypothesizing concepts out loud — referring to a world of intangibles made from people's hearts; perceiving desires as a 'treasure' to be stolen; and so on — Akira couldn't help but feel nervous. He has no idea how on the money he is...he's treading onto the territory of Wakaba Isshiki. "...it's pretty intriguing, Doc."
"You think so, Kurusu-kun? It'd be incredible, if it was true; but without actually talking to a member of the Phantom Thieves, I suppose there's no way we'll ever know for sure...but talking it out like this has been quite helpful! I feel like my research paper is so close to being finished..."
...if you start talking about this stuff publicly, you might draw the Conspiracy's attention, thought Akira with alarm. (But oh, how little he knew...) "Just be careful who you talk about it to, okay? Anything related to the Phantom Thieves is quite dangerous, these days..."
Maruki smiled genuinely. "Thank you for your concern, Kurusu-kun...but, strange as it may seem, I don't really put much credence into the claims that they've committed murder...even though the evidence seems rather striking." Nervously scratching his head, he remarked, "I guess I'm optimistic...or perhaps gullible, some might say."
"No need to be self-deprecating," said Akira. "I can do enough of that for the both of us."
xxxx
/Wednesday: November 2, 2016/
After school, Akira found himself heading to Ueno, where a certain art exhibition for the youth was being held by the Japanese Art Support Foundation. (Futaba had demanded to come along to see the painting for herself.)
Akira was not surprised at all to find out that Yusuke's painting had won the prize. What he was surprised by was the fact that Ann and Hifumi Togo had tagged along. "Why wouldn't we? We came straight from Kosei!" the blonde exclaimed.
"...there's something to be said for the works present," mused Hifumi, her eyes looking around with an analytic air. "I wish I knew more about art, so I could describe my thoughts better..."
Futaba, kneeling in front of the painting, stared up at it with an intense expression. "Desire and Hope, huh...?"
"Indeed," said Yusuke with a pleased smile. "It is my own attempt at capturing the essence of the human heart...even though my vision is limited, those limits have forced me to grapple with the heart in all its complexity..."
It was at this juncture that Akio Kawanabe himself — an old man with a thick head of gray hair and a professional demeanor — stepped up to appraise the painting.
Akira, alas, didn't feel the need to intervene on Yusuke's behalf, as Madarame's old friend and Madarame's last pupil began to speak about the merits of the work in question. Whatever had changed relative to the Last Time Around™ — whether or not it was because they had never encountered Kawanabe at Madarame's atelier — Yusuke was both more confident in his own work...and Kawanabe was just a bit less prickly.
(It probably had something to do with Futaba, Ann, and Hifumi just watching, as if daring Kawanabe to speak out of turn.)
But: when Kawanabe made his offer for support, and Yusuke declined...
"What are you, nuts?!" exclaimed Futaba, startling both men. "You're awful with resource management! Turning down free money is dumb!"
"Yeah, seriously Yusuke!" exclaimed Ann. "Even art in the fashion world needs support! And, like, Leonardo da Vinci was a famous artist who got supported too...I think!"
"...you do have a bit of a reputation at school for being excessively thrifty, Kitagawa-san," admitted Hifumi with a nervous cough.
Yusuke boggled at the three. "Why are you all so concerned about my personal finances...?"
Alas, Akira couldn't help but loose a hearty laugh at the shenanigans.
("Good grief," mumbled Morgana, shaking his head within Akira's bookbag.)
Yusuke, alas, could not be cowed...and although he declined Kawanabe's offer for support, he gratefully accepted the man's business card. "I would appreciate any stories you have of my former sensei...for good or ill."
That, at least, was something Kawanabe seemed satisfied with.
xxxx
/Thursday: November 3, 2016/
Today was Culture Day, so there was no school...but Akira, cognizant of the fact that his life was heading towards a momentous event, made his way to Shibuya.
Within Untouchable, Munehisa Iwai looked up with a frown. "Something on your mind?"
"Just a lot of pressure," Akira admitted, once he was sure no other customers were present. "...you know the bits that that crooked inspector asked you to hold onto for a favor?"
Iwai, recognizing that he was speaking about the Calling Cards for Kobayakawa and Mishima, frowned. "Yeah; what for?"
"Been wondering about disposing of them. Figured I'd ask for your advice."
Iwai arched an eyebrow. "That so? Weird for you to come to me for tips."
"Why wouldn't it? You're kind of the subject-matter expert on disposing of evidence."
"...yeah, just gonna cut through the bullshit then," grumbled Iwai, removing his lollipop and throwing it away. "You're one of the Phantom Thieves, aren't you?"
Akira said nothing.
"...fine, you don't have to confirm or deny it," murmured the former yakuza, coming to his own conclusions on the matter. "Public pressure's been hot on them, as of late. Makes sense, that fans would want to throw away their old merch."
"But I'm not sure if I should hold onto my merch," Akira replied, thinking about the two Calling Cards lying within his attic. "Just in case, you know?"
"What, you thinking you might get accused with some cheap knockoffs?"
Given that Akechi already killed Kobayakawa and convinced Mishima to give up control of Phan-Watch? I can't be too sure if the Conspiracy will try to add that to the stack against us, somehow. "Just trying to figure out if they're worthwhile cards to keep in my hand, is all." Anything to contradict the Conspiracy could be vital, in the eyes of the public. With uncertainty as to whether or not Sae Niijima would strike earlier than expected, he had found himself feeling a bit twitchy.
"...you sure don't do anything by halves, do ya?" muttered Iwai. "Then again, I probably would have been in a worse situation if you were the kind of person to half-ass anything..." Without warning, the man's eyes shifted towards the door.
Akira glanced over his shoulder, right as the bell above the door thinkled; into the shop entered none other than Tetsu Masa: the flunky of the late Toshimitsu Tsuda...and he looked rather frazzled. Ah, crap.
Before Iwai could even open his mouth, Masa pulled a knife out of his pocket. "Not in the mood for small talk," he snarled.
Ah, double crap, thought Akira with a grimace.
"You assholes have no idea what you set off," snarled Masa, holding his knife with a certain mania. "You should've just done what Tsuda asked, and he'd be alive right now!"
"You have no way of knowing that," warned Iwai, rising with a wary expression. "Tsuda got deep-sixed by a serial killer, but the cops caught the perp; why are you bringing it to my doorstep?"
"His death caused the Clan to start looking deeper into his affairs; they found out about how his deal with the triad went sour, and now everyone's scrambling for accountability!" With an angry snarl, he looked back and forth between Iwai and Akira. "Tsuda was my boss, so now I've got the higher-ups breathing down my neck, you shits!"
Iwai huffed, unimpressed by the threat. "Not my problem. Tsuda still had enough pull that he could make life difficult for me...but you? You were his flunky."
"A desperate flunky," observed Akira.
"Shut your damn mouth, you little prick," growled Masa.
Last Time Around™, he went after Kaoru first, in order to strongarm Iwai...was that option not available...? It suddenly clicked. Ah. "You can't risk going after Kaoru, now that he knows you by sight...and you also can't risk the chance that any plainclothes cop has him under watch, since that Inspector knows you tried snagging him before...which brings you to here."
"Sounds like it sums it up," agreed Iwai, a wry chuckle slipping out of his mouth. "And let's be honest...you ain't exactly the most threatening type."
Masa looked like he was about to snap. "Just a few steps is all I need to gut the kid...and I have no issue with bringing my boys outside in to thrash this place..."
"Then I wouldn't have the resources to do whatever job you obviously want me to do," said Iwai with a huff. "You suck when you're desperate, you know that...?" Iwai trailed off, his expression suddenly going cold with shock.
Akira frowned at the sudden shift in mood, trying to follow Iwai's line of sight; there was a man at the door to Untouchable, moving to enter. Who's that...?
Masa, not catching on, doubled down. "I don't give a damn about your insults! You're going to do what I tell you to do, or else-!" The bell rang behind him. Masa turned...only to blink with bewilderment. "The hell are you?"
"...just window shopping," said the gruff man; his short black hair was neatly combed, fitting in well with his light gray suit and burgundy dress shirt. Judging by the severity of his expression, he had to be pushing late forties to early fifties, at minimum. "You seem like you're being a disturbance, though."
"He is," remarked Iwai, almost too quickly.
"What happened to my men who were outside?" demanded Masa.
"What men?" asked the newcomer.
Masa, finally hitting his limit, turned towards the older man with a frustrated expression. "That tears it," he sneered, stepping in with a quick in-step to stab-!
CRUNCH.
Akira winced at how clean the man's counter was; with a calm movement, the man had swayed away from Masa's blade and lashed out with a chopping right against the cheek. Masa was out like a light. "...nice."
The newcomer quietly looked towards Iwai. "You've got a lot of gray, for one so young."
Iwai snorted. "I don't wanna hear that from you." With an uncomfortable expression, he added, "...I'd heard you'd retired."
"Doesn't always stick. Was rolling through town, taking care of a few favors." The newcomer looked intently towards Akira.
Gee, he's intense. "How can I help?"
"...he's got good eyes." Turning back to Iwai, he asked, "Mind telling your part-timer to leave? I find it easier to talk business one-on-one."
Iwai waved off Akira's immediately look of concern. "I'll be fine, kid. This is a bit above your paygrade, anyhow."
"...if you say so," admitted Akira, awkwardly stepping around the newcomer (by Igor, the man was well-built) to step outside; to his shock, a small cluster of thugs — Masa's cohort, most likely — were out cold, slumped against the wall. "What in the world...?"
Morgana — as was typical, for many of Akira's visits to Untouchable — emerged from hiding, an outright rapturous look on his face. "Oh man, Joker, you should have seen it! That old man had so many cool moves-!"
As the Most Definitely Not a Cat™ ranted and raved about how the newcomer had manhandled the yakuza thugs, Akira couldn't help but feel that he was missing some context...
xxxx
...context which would come later when, back in Yongen-Jaya, he got a random call from Iwai. "You okay?" he immediately asked. It had been about an hour since he had left Untouchable.
"Who do you take me for?" grumbled Iwai on the other end. "I'm fine. It was just a meeting to put a capstone on my affairs with the Hashiba Clan, that's all."
"...so that guy was another member?" Iwai's snort made it sound like he'd said something stupid. "Sure, make fun of the civvie, why don't you..."
"Fair enough...the Hashiba Clan used to be part of a larger clan, many years ago: one that split apart into smaller groups, because of a lot of shit that went down. Being a yakuza was tough, you know?"
"...so that guy was in the Hashiba's predecessor?"
"Sure, we'll go with that. A big shot, to put it mildly...and one whose word still carries weight, even to this day. What exactly brought his attention to my neck of the woods is beyond me, though..."
"...but are you good?"
Iwai's tone seemed oddly light: a rarity, given the weight he'd been under for untold months. "The Clan will respect my retirement, so long as I keep my nose clean...which is fair enough by me."
"...good."
"Boy, it's just never a dull moment with you, huh?" Akira could hear Iwai's cheeky grin. "I'm even inclined to keep holding onto that merch for ya..."
Wow, he must be in a really good mood. "...thanks. I'll keep that in mind. Tell Kaoru I said hello."
And so ended another evening...
xxxx
Day: November 3rd, 2016
You ever get the feeling of something so big passing you by that you don't even see it?
Kinda got that feeling at the airsoft shop today. Not sure how to explain it.
Then again, maybe it's for the best I don't look any deeper. I've got enough on my plate as is. (Plus, a former yakuza that old, still throwing punches like that? Best to stay away...)
xxxx
/Friday: November 4, 2016/
Kosei Academy apparently had a culture festival today, and tomorrow.
Akira, who had become increasingly cognizant of plainclothes officers around Shujin, opted to avoid attending that day (if only because the thought of seeing more police on the lookout would have made him more paranoid).
Preparing their countermeasure against the Conspiracy had had an unexpected side effect: a slight streak of anxiety, distinct from how it had been the Last Time Around™. Whereas before, there had been uncertainty and unease about what could have awaited him during the police interrogation...now, armed with knowledge about what awaited him, there was actual discomfort. Guess ignorance truly is bliss, he mused, inwardly cursing his nerves. A lot of that had faded with time...but it had been awful.
But that was the plan, and they were going to stick with it.
"You seem awful tense," said Sojiro, that evening in Leblanc.
"It's a tense time," Akira remarked, looking back towards the barista with a stoic expression. The cafe had closed for the evening, and they were taking care of the final clean-up. "I mean, all you have to do is look at the news," he added, hands busy with cleaning the dishes.
"...this is ridiculous," murmured the old man, going towards a particular jar of coffee beans: a small one, hidden behind the usual jars. "Sit down at the bar."
Akira, curious as to where this was going, obeyed; he quietly watched as Sojiro brewed two cups, inhaling the unique aroma. "Hmm...what type?"
"Bourbon. Grown in Okinawa," he added, much to Akira's surprise. "Had a customer some years back who was in town on a business trip. Thought highly enough of my work that he gave these beans as a gift. They're not for sale."
That's obvious enough. The scent was fresh, and the brew went down clean. "It's very good."
Sojiro sat down beside Akira, taking a sip of his own. The two sat in silence, letting the sound of the afternoon rain — light, but cold and windy — provide ambience. The old man obviously had something to say, so Akira waited for him to get the words out.
(All the while, Futaba listened intently from within the sanctity of her room. "Come on, say something already...!")
Finally, he said, "Listen...it's no secret that I'm not a fan of what you're doing."
Akira resisted the urge to be sarcastic; instead, he spoke with sincerity. "I know."
"...but you're not going to stop."
"We're not exactly in a position to stop," he confessed. "I can only imagine what your imagination has been telling you."
Sojiro snorted. "Nothing pleasant. But...even with everything, you've always carried yourself with an unusual maturity. And that's why...I feel like I have to know, what it is that you're all up to. I know enough to realize that my lack of knowledge...is suffocating."
I wonder if finding out Akechi murdered Wakaba did anything to cause this. "There's a reason that they say ignorance is bliss."
"...I'm aware. And I'll probably regret it." Even so, Sojiro's look said plenty.
So Akira sighed, taking another sip of his coffee. "...Wakaba Isshiki's research involved cognition. As it turns out, there's another world born from cognition...and not in the metaphorical sense." Without going into certain specifics about who they had targeted and why, Akira spoke about the fights that took place within the Metaverse, against monsters that borrowed archetypal imagery; about how the Phantom Thieves literally weaponized their personality to fight them; how injuries and wounds within the cognitive world only translated into mental exhaustion; how the Shadows of their targets represented hidden and distorted sides of humanity.
Through it all, Sojiro seemed utterly flummoxed. "...the rational part of me wants to reject it all...but you're speaking so calmly about it."
"Making it up would be a disservice."
"...and to think Futaba is involved with it all..."
"She's not directly involved in fighting," Akira explained. "We call her our Navigator. She identifies enemy weaknesses, scans the environment, strengthens certain aspects of us...things like that."
That seemed to mollify Sojiro, to some extent. "...and this world...is how Wakaba's mental shutdown occurred?"
"Based on what we know? Yes."
"...unbelievable," he murmured, kneading at the wrinkles on his forehead. "...I can see why you feel like you can't stop...because anyone with access to that world could wreak havoc. They'd be unstoppable."
Glad you're up to speed. "Yes."
"...huh. Some guardian I am," he murmured. "Kids involved with combat in another world...and here I am, stuck running a simple cafe."
Akira chuckled. "Sojiro...you do so much more than you realize." Gesturing at the confines of Leblanc, he said, "Even if it's just for my probation...this place is home. And to Futaba, you're home. Don't underestimate how important that is."
Sojiro said nothing to do that, sipping his coffee in a contemplative manner. The two men remained silent from that point onward, finishing the last of their coffee. Only when the rain finally stopped did Sojiro make to leave. "...thanks."
"I'll finish with the clean-up," replied Akira, as a roundabout way of saying 'you're welcome'.
(From atop the stairs, Morgana mulled over their words, contemplating the weight of responsibility...)
xxxx
(Sojiro, when he got back to his house, ended up getting a surprise hug from Futaba. "Hey, what gives...?")
("Do I need a reason to hug you?" said Futaba, not at all indicating her motivation for consoling her foster father.)
xxxx
Day: November 4th, 2016
Man-to-man talks are surprisingly reassuring.
xxxx
/Saturday: November 5, 2016/
That morning — having woken up early, a fair time before school was scheduled to start — Akira noted a familiar customer: one Toshiro Kasukabe, looking rather tired.
Without warning, he shifted into the cafe's restroom, pulling out his phone; the number he texted was one he had saved on the first day of Shujin's Culture Festival.
Akira: Hey.
Akira: Toshiro's at Leblanc.
Akira: I'll try to distract him for as long as possible.
Morgana, sitting in Akira's bookbag, frowned as the boy stuffed the phone alongside him. "You don't have much time..."
"Any little bit helps, now stay in there and be quiet," he whispered before withdrawing from the restroom. Time to run out the clock. After accepting a plate of curry and a cup of coffee for breakfast from Sojiro, he promptly pulled up a stool besides Toshiro. "It's been a while."
"I've been here a couple of times since we last spoke," the Dietman remarked.
Akira hummed in a neutral manner, glancing towards the television; the news was reporting about another ongoing dispute amongst the Cabinet; furthermore, with Masayoshi Shido's popularity on the upswing, the House of Councillors had apparently reversed course on their prior censure from late August. "Huh. Wonder why they changed their mind."
"...it's an attempt at saving face that's come too late," remarked Toshiro; he sipped at his coffee with a numb expression, as though inured to the political drama he deal with on a daily basis. "The Liberal Co-Prosperity Party is at a crossroads; too many members are compromised over one thing or another...and my father, ever the fence-sitter, is waiting to see which way the winds will turn."
"It seems like they're all going into Shido's sails," Akira observed. "Why not go with them?"
"...my father values his capacity to make connections between opposing sides," Toshiro said, alluding to something larger in a cryptic way. "He doesn't want to oppose Shido, but he doesn't want to alienate the man's opponents, either."
Makes me wonder why Shido hasn't ordered him to suffer a shutdown yet, Akira couldn't help but wonder. "That didn't stop him from supporting Kunikazu Okumura."
"Okumura's death changed things," Toshiro murmured. "...politics is very tiresome affair, Kurusu-kun."
"Sounds like it...but maybe you just need a change in perspective." With a flash of inspiration, he remarked, "Maybe you could get some advice from Old Man Tora? I've talked with him several times, and he's always struck me as a straight-up guy."
Toshiro blinked, bewildered by the reference. "You know Toranosuke Yoshida...?"
"He does his speeches at Shibuya Central every Sunday. Who doesn't know him?"
"...ah. Fair enough," Toshiro relented.
...okay, no more playing around. "...have you given any further thought to where things stand with you and Okumura-senpai?" Akira asked, deciding to take the plunge. "I'm going to be honest: I don't intend to stop pursuing her. Not unless she tells me to stop." Which she won't, but still.
Toshiro's expression seemed to age. "You really are unwilling to compromise...no matter what gets thrown in your way."
"I know what I want. Do you?" Akira lowered his glasses, peering into Toshiro's eyes with an intense stare. "...why are you even in the Diet at all? What's your purpose?"
Toshiro, seemingly stuck in the morass that was his life, didn't have an immediate answer; he looked as if he wanted throw out some canned answers — a politician's answers — but seemed caught on himself. "..."
Fortunately, intervention arrived in the form of a new customer. "...huh. You look tired, Toshiro."
The expression that crossed Toshiro's face — disbelief; panic; loss; shame — nearly knocked Akira back, for all its intensity; the man slowly turned towards the door, where a handicapped woman stood. "...Natsuhara..."
Eri Natsuhara smiled, even though it didn't quite reach her eye. "...pretty cozy place you've holed up in," she remarked.
Akira, sensing his moment, abruptly finished the rest of his curry before standing up. "Welp, I need to get to school, and you look like you have some catching up to do, so I'll just leave you to it."
Toshiro could only sputter, utterly flabbergasted as the brunette grabbed the closest stool between him and the door.
Akira, quickly dumping his empty plate and coffee mug into the seat, turned towards Sojiro with a serious expression. "Long story short, there's some major relationship drama with Kasukabe and the woman who sat next to him, and I need you to be the wingman for both of them."
Sojiro, stirring at the curry pot, looked back at him with alarm. "Say what-?"
"Awesome, you're the best, off to school now, 'kay thanks bye." And with that, Akira was out the door.
"...you're incorrigible, you know that?" griped Mona, poking his head out of the bookbag.
"But I'm lovably incorrigible," Akira snarked. "Besides, Sojiro will treat Natsuhara like a valued customer...and Futaba's listening in. She'll have no issue running interference to make sure Kasukabe and Natsuhara aren't interrupted." Now, to deal with Shujin...
xxxx
Alas, Akira wouldn't make it to Shujin; for, before he could even reach the station to Yongen-Jaya, an unwelcome face approached. "Yo," said Inspector Yamadera.
"...can this wait?" Akira didn't want to sound exasperated, but Yamadera had that effect on him.
"Afraid not, kiddo. I need you to take a ride with me."
Akira, briefly utilizing his Third Eye, tried to sense if there were any other hostiles around. No other officers...I don't think. "...is this a formal arrest?"
"Nope...but if you decide to head to Shujin, you will get detained before you can make it out of the Aoyama-Itchome station."
...he's not kidding, thought Akira with growing dread. "...if I don't make it to school, that might get me in trouble with regards to my probation."
"Possibly," acknowledged Yamadera. "But I think you're the type who wants to gamble on a possibility, versus a certainty."
...damn it. What had happened? No way to know without taking the bait, I guess.
("Akira," warned Morgana. "Be careful...")
"Your cat sounds nervous," observed the plainclothes cop.
With a nervous sigh, Akira stuck a hand into his bag, giving Morgana a 'reassuring pet'...before unlocking his phone with a sleight of the same hand. "Lead the way, Inspector."
xxxx
TO BE CONTINUED
xxxx