Morgana pawed at Akira's face just hard enough for his claws to sting. "Get up. You can't stay in bed all day."

"Try me." He reached for the pillow to swat away the offending cat, but Morgana dodged to the side with a yowl. Midmorning sunlight struck Akira's face. Everything after Sugimura's office was a blur. He had shouted at Sae, he remembered that much, and now she was avoiding him. Some rational part of him conceded that this was probably smart, but mostly he had been hollowed out by the rage and fear and the memories that came unbidden. Staying here for the rest of the day sounded like a great idea. Maybe he could stay forever.

Morgana peered at him. "You don't look so good. Are you sick?"

Sick sounded about right. He wondered if any of his targets had ever felt sick from the corruption in their hearts, or that the very nature of their sociopathy meant that they had been able to live with songs in their hearts until the Phantom Thieves had shown up. "Maybe." He propped himself on his elbow with considerable effort. "You're the avatar of human hope. How do you have hope when the world is so messed up, you're messed up, and you don't have the magic powers that could fix things anymore?"

Morgana was silent for a long time. Just when Akira thought he had stunned him into silence, Morgana nuzzled and licked his hand, his rough tongue suddenly almost too real. "You let the people who love you help you."

"Even though I'm not Joker with all the answers?"

"Did you ever have all the answers?" He nudged harder, all but forcing Akira to pet him. "I think Yaldabaoth messed you up in the head."

"Being erased from existence will do that to you."

"No, I mean before that. He told you to gain allies in your battle against society, and that was what would power your Personas. Sure, those people became your friends, but it started out as deals, and I think part of you still thinks they only like you because of what you can do for them." He burrowed into Akira's hand. "I don't, by the way. I love you. I'm pretty sure Ms. Niijima feels the same way."

Sae. He may not have remembered his exact words, but he remembered the anger and despair washing over him as he had yelled at her. And he could remember her recoiling as if she had been struck. He had vowed never to blame her for what he had suffered and to try his best to build a life with her. But it seemed he had broken that promise. "I hurt her. How could she still love me?"

"Like I said, he definitely messed you up big time. It's because somebody loves you that they stay by you even when you hurt them sometimes. You forgave me when I left and joined up with Haru, right? You forgave Akechi for trying to kill you. I'm pretty sure Ms. Niijima can take you screaming."

"Point taken." His body still felt heavy. He had been Joker, the avenging angel, for so long that mercy seemed a strange and almost indulgent concept. But the thought of life without Sae after everything they had both endured frightened him even more. "I'll just talk to her, shall I?" He changed his clothes, brushed his hair until it was almost respectable, and went off in search of his girlfriend.

Her door was closed. So she hadn't left the hotel yet. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he knocked. She might not want to see him, might be plotting to leave him behind in Nagasaki, but he had to at least grovel, even if the thought made his hands sweat. Seconds ticked by, and the silence thickened as he waited.

Finally, the door opened. Sae had changed into a button-up shirt and khakis that were almost casual by her standards. She was pale, but there was no redness in her eyes. He wished they could read her face better. She exhaled. "Akira." She didn't sound angry, just tired and a little nervous.

It was better than the alternative. "Can—can we talk?"

"I think we have to. Common room?"

He sat at the table, and Sae slid into the chair opposite. More silence, and Akira found himself focusing on the tarot deck in the middle of the table where it had been left the night before. An upside down six of swords peeked out of the box. He ran his finger over the edge in an attempt to calm his nerves. "I don't really remember what I said because it's all a jumble after I left the office, but I know I said some pretty bad things. I'm sorry."

"You did." Her lips were a thin line. "The hell is that most of it was true. I jailed you, and I wasn't strong enough to make good come from evil." She let out a shuddering breath. "I apologized for failing you, but I think now that I should have apologized for asking you to turn yourself in in the first place. Shido was never going to be a threat again regardless, and I knew they would put you in protective custody. And solitary...there's a reason some places have abolished it. The system tortured you twice over, and you're living with the consequences."

Akira opened his mouth and closed it again. Of all the ways he had imagined this conversation going, Sae apologizing to him hadn't been one of them. "No. Don't. I'm the one who couldn't keep his mouth shut."

"Look, I'm not saying you weren't cruel in the way you said it, or that we can just pretend nothing happened, but I did let you be hurt terribly in my quest for justice." She looked down at the deck. "Which might just be my desire to win changed up a different way than before. The casino is still open for both of us. And things can't continue as they are."

"Then what do I do? I tried be a hero, but I couldn't even take Sugimura closing the door on me without cracking up."

"Closing the door?"

Akira shifted, embarrassed. "I go a little crazy when the door isn't cracked a bit. It's like I'm back there in the training school. Silly, I know."

Sae's eyes widened, and Akira shrank in his seat. He'd finally admitted to being crazy, and it was going to cost him everything. But Sae covered his hand with hers, her fingers warm and soft but shaking. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You've got enough on your plate. You don't need me making things harder for you."

"Maybe I want you on my plate." Her fingers twined with his. When she spoke again, her voice was as soft as Akira had ever heard it. "You're sick, like I was sick. Do you remember me carrying you inside Takemi's clinic after the interrogation? It didn't make you weak. Let me carry you for a little while now."

Some part of him could imagine Joker giving the same speech to her, if the situation had been reversed. That didn't make it easier. "I don't want to be person you're grateful to because I beat up a huge metal knight inside your head. I want to be your boyfriend." He raked his free hand through his hair. "I want to know what it's like to curl up with you at night. But I'm scared to ask, because of what I saw in that world. Some days it feels like I'm scared of my own shadow. Or maybe Shadow. I just want to be the hero again."

"Oh, Akira." She pulled back her hand, and Akira heard rather than saw her stand up and walk to his side. Those warm fingers traced the line of his jaw until Akira shuddered and was forced to look up. Sae's smile was nervous. "And here I was afraid of hurting you. You can ask for anything you want."

"I can?"

"There's still a lot we need to talk about, but for now..." Sae pulled him to his feet and into her arms. Her mouth was even warmer and softer than her fingers and she tasted of tears, though whether they were his or hers Akira couldn't say. Her hands roamed his back and shoulders, tracing what was left of his muscles. Akira turned his mouth to the side and gently flicked his tongue against her mouth. And Sae..whimpered. Lust and elation slipped through where there had been only pain moments before. It wasn't the kind of power he had had in the Metaverse, but it was power and if we do for the moment.

He wasn't sure how long they stood like that, just kissing, but eventually Sae pulled back. He had seen that glint in her Shadow's eyes when she had goaded him into making a particularly disastrous bet, but never with a smile like that. She touched her swollen lips. "That was a nice start, but I want more." She sounded out of breath.

He was dreaming, he had to be. "More?"

"More. Everything you want to give me. "She took his hand and put it to her breast. Her shirt was thinner than he was used to. He could feel her beneath the fabric. Could imagine tweaking, kneading her.

"You're sure?" His mind was rapidly falling to pieces from more than just going crazy, but he had to at least try to be the gentleman instead of the horny teenager he was rapidly turning into. "The law-"

"Fuck the law." She growled. "The law broke us. If this is what you want, then take it. You've earned any reward you want." Her voice lowered to something husky that dug into his spirit and drew him away from the void into a torture that would be as exquisite as it was painful. "I've been thinking of what you could do to me ever since we met. The barista having me right there on the counter where anyone could walk in. Such a scandal. Such-"

Akira snapped. He yanked at her clothing and nipped at her lips, with only instinct and manga he wasn't supposed to have to guide him. Whimpers became gasps and moans. She tangled her hands in his hair. "Yes," she whispered. "Just like that." Her shirt came off and the lean muscle of her body was revealed to him. Akira licked his lips. He wanted to devour her right here and now. And from the look on her face, she wanted to do the same to him.

She grabbed his hand and brought it to her breast. "Keep going." Akira wasn't sure he could've refused even if he'd wanted to. Her skin was hot and soft, every touch kindling an answering fire in him. She freed one hand to work on his own shirt. Their pants and gasps mingled together. Sae looked him up and down. The hunger in her eyes never wavered, even though he didn't have nearly as much muscle as he had had on Christmas Eve. A different kind of moan tore through him. Kamoshida, Kaneshiro, those things seem to have happen to another man. Akira had a lover who wanted him and who he wanted in return.

And who had had fantasies of him having sex with her on the counter. He grinned as she gasped again. He lived to serve. No way she could fit on the minibar, but they did have a nice, sturdy table. He backed her up and hoisted her onto the table. He had only the vaguest idea of what to do next, but he knew that he wanted her and that every noise she was making was gold to him, one small step in soothing the pain it caused her. His hands trailed to her waistband and-

"What are you guys-oh!"

Sae jerked away with such force that both of them almost lost their balance. Akira swore as heat flooded his face. Morgana sauntered to them casual as you please. He looked from Akira to Sae and back again and blinked. Sae stared back in stunned silence. Akira waited for the floor to swallow him whole, but no such relief was forthcoming. Maybe this was his punishment: an eternity of silence after being caught en flagrante by a talking cat who thought S&M were shirt sizes.

But Morgana smiled, and it was the most human smile that Akira had ever seen from him. "I told you that Ms Niijima would forgive you. But do you mind finishing this later? I'm supposed to chaperone you, and promised to take me to see the churches."

Akira couldn't help himself. He laughed as a little more of the emptiness sloughed off. "Right. I did promise that. Go back to my room and we'll be out in a minute." He knelt to scratch Morgana behind the ears. "And thanks, buddy."

Somehow, he and Sae managed to get their clothes back on without either spontaneously combusting or dying of embarrassment. Sae smoothed her hair and there was no trace of the woman who had almost driven him to madness except for the smile playing across her slightly swollen lips. "Feel better?"

"I don't have to explain the facts of life to my cat. I feel great." He squeezed her hand. "I'm really sorry about yesterday. I know we do still have a lot of work to do."

"We do. I really think you should take Arisato up on that offer of a Kirijo shrink. Maybe I should too. And if half of the rumors I hear about them are true, getting a psychiatrist out to your hometown for a while should be trivial."

Akira frowned. There was a part of him that still felt like it would be giving up, that he should have been strong enough to handle this on his own just like he had been strong enough to lead the Phantom Thieves. "You don't think less of me for it?"

"No more than I thought less of you for having burn scars because that detective shoved a cigarette onto you." Her thumb caressed little patterns on the back of his hand. "I do mean to keep you, for as long as you want me. You, not Joker. And I will tell you that every day in whatever way you need to hear it until you believe me. Including sex on the table if necessary."

Akira blinked at her. "You were hamming it up just now? Were you really thinking of sex back when we met?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Her tongue darted into his mouth. "Definitely thinking of it now. Been a while since I've had a boyfriend. Almost forgot I could ask for these things."

"More than ask." Akira drew her close and rested his face in the crook of her neck, warm and safe. "You're more than I deserve," he murmured Being so kind after yesterday."

"Kind? I know you don't like to hear about how grateful I am in addition to being hopelessly in love with you, but it's true. I'm only paying you back." She kissed the top of his head. "Ask Makoto what I did to make her charge into Kaneshiro's hideout if you don't believe me. And believe me when I say that I want you to get better and that you can get better."

"I'll try." He pulled back. "Now, I believe both you and Morgana said that you wanted to see the churches? And it's Sunday anyway, so I should go to Mass. Probably shouldn't receive, though"

"Because you yelled at me?"

"That too."

He had only dim memories of Nishizaka Church. Sunlight glinting off the towers, staring in disgust and delight at a bit bone from one of the martyrs, studying at a painting of another of those martyrs stabbed and crucified. The reality of eleven o'clock on a Sunday morning in the middle of March was something else. The church was more crowded than the one at home had ever been, maybe half full and mostly foreigners on vacation. He frowned as a blond man still wearing his shoes took pictures on his phone. "I didn't know the shrine was part of the touristy area."

Sae shifted. "You'll have to tell me how to behave. The closest I've ever been to a service is a few Christian-style weddings."

"You don't have to come, you know. You can wait outside and we can go to the museum after."

"It's part of what makes you who you are. I want to see it up close, even if I don't believe." She squeezed his hand. "Besides, it means I can ask you to go with me to the kickboxing tournament next week in good conscience."

He tried to find comfort in the confiteor, in the familiar rituals of standing, sitting, and kneeling, in Morgana peeking out of his coat and asking a hundred questions. This had been part of his family for centuries upon centuries. Some of them had died for it. He knelt for the words of consecration. Maybe he wasn't white his family had wanted him to be, but he appreciated traditions that reminded him that the world was more than cognition and there was some part of it that couldn't be wiped out by the will of a lunatic.

"On the night He was betrayed and entered willingly into His Passion…"

Akechi smiled at him as the chandelier crashed to the casino floor. "Good luck! We'll definitely meet again."

Akira blinked. No, he would not let the past carry him away so soon after he and Sae made some kind of progress. He bit his lip, letting the pain anchor him to the present and looked around. The blond was talking in a low voice to the woman next to him about a trip to Kyoto they were hoping to take. Really, why even bother to go to church? But he focused on them just the same because it was better than the alternative.

He stayed behind as the priest and the other worshipers filed out. Morgana poked his head further out of Akira's coat. "That was pretty neat. Weird, but neat. So you guys come here every week to get hope?"

"Something like that. Not all gods are like the one we fought, and I want to make this one happy." He could practically hear his childhood catechists screaming in his ear, but it wasn't like they taught First Communion for Felines. "Especially when people suffered so much to allow it."

"The dying you told me about? But this was pretty. Why hurt people for this?"

"Sometimes people get scared of people who don't fit in to society. Sometimes they even have a good reason, but it still hurts. There's a museum a few steps from here if you want to see."

Morgana opened his mouth, but it was Sae who answered. "Yes, I think I would like to see," she said with an odd look on her face.

They trudged outside and further up the hill to the museum. The titular twenty-six martyrs had been engraved on a nearby monument. They all looked terribly peaceful and holy, not like men who had been put on crosses and stabbed to death because some ship captain was desperate to get his money back and had told the shogun the Spanish used missionaries to soften up other countries.

Light from stained glass windows fell on the exhibits. About twenty or so visitors, mostly European or American, milled around the statues, medals, and paintings. Akira answered Sae and Morgana's questions as best he could. Yes, that was real blood on the handkerchief and yes people did think it could perform miracles. No, his ancestors hadn't engaged in any daring smuggling of Jesuits so far as he knew. They had been simple farmers and by the time Japan had been reopened to the outside world, their worship had degenerated to honoring saints the way most people did their ancestors.

"But they were still willing to die for it?" Morgana asked somberly. "Sort of like how we were willing to die for what we thought was the truth?"

"I don't think they would appreciate the comparison."

"But still, that takes courage. They survived and had you and now we're walking around a church. You won!"

He looked at a painting of Saint Paul Miki as he hung on the cross bleeding. Would he have considered a half million Catholics and people having Christian-style weddings because they were cheaper winning? It felt more like a time-limit draw at best, not losing as badly as they could have at worst.

That sounds about right. The world not being stuck in Mementos is your one real accomplishment.

"Hey, is that one of your Personas?"

Akira shook his head against the voice in his mind and followed Morgana's gaze to a nearby statue of a kind-faced woman in robes. Her face was half melted. "Not quite. The Kakure Kirishitans dressed up statues of the Virgin Mary to look like Kannon so they could pray in peace. Not the same entity that saved my bacon in Futaba's Palace."

"Excuse me," said a voice in English. "You're blocking the aisle and we want to get a picture."

Akira turned. It was the blond from Mass. He'd already whipped out his phone and was tapping his foot impatiently. Akira gestured to a nearby sign in Japanese, English, and Korean. "No pictures."

"What? Do you work here or something? We paid good money for this tour and we want a picture!"

What was it with Americans? No, not Americans. People. The world was filled with miniature Shidos and Sugimuras who broke the rules not because the rules were evil, but because they kept them from getting something they felt entitled to. This was what his ancestors had suffered and died for: for their descendants to die in nuclear fire and for the ones who survived that to become a tourist trap with their broken rosaries and melted statues. He had suffered for...for...

Not again. Akira groped blindly for Sae's hand. "Help me," he rasped.

Sae's eyes widened for the briefest of moments before she straightened her shoulders and took a half step forward. "I would do as the gentleman requests. We take our cultural artifacts seriously, and it would be my duty as a prosecutor to punish you if you failed to comply with regulations."

The American paled at the word prosecutor. "No need for that, ma'am. Muriel and I were just leaving." He grabbed his wife by the hand and all but scurried out the door.

Akira let out a shuddering breath. "Thank you," he whispered.

"My pleasure. I knew those advanced English classes would come in handy." She softened. "What was it?"

"I don't even know this time. Just people being jerks I guess. I'm doomed."

"No, you aren't. If I have to carve a path into the Velvet Room and get a Persona myself, I will find a way to get you treatment. It's posttraumatic stress disorder. Just tell me what you need."

What he needed. He looked again at the relics on display. So much bloodshed contained here, and the echoes trembled down to the present day. And for what? Please, I need this to matter. I need what I went through to have a purpose. "I just need something to go right. And I think maybe… maybe I do need that help. I tried to put a few hundred kilometers between me and this crap, and it still followed me here." More of the hollowness filled, but he felt like he'd swam to China and back twice over.

They didn't go to more shrines. Instead, they went to an art museum and laughed at how Yusuke would lecture them for not understanding a thing they were seeing. Sae bought a paperweight and Akira grabbed a collection of the tackiest T-shirts he could find as souvenirs to bring back. For a little while, he felt almost normal.

The address Arisato had given Akira led them to a public hall| not far from Hypocenter Park. About twenty people had joined them for the lecture. Most looked as if they had taken one look at a fortuneteller like Chihaya and decided they were going to do one better at looking as occult and nonconformist as possible, but a few were people he would have passed in the supermarket without a second glance. People with pale, nervous faces who wore an expression Akira knew all too well: they had seen something and remembered it. Sae and Akira took seats on the aisle.

A woman slid next to him, and Akira forgot how to breathe. It was Tenaba. She looked even paler and more exhausted than she had this morning. She started when she saw Akira. "Mr. Kurusu?"

Akira took a moment to still the hammering in his chest. "Hi."

"My boyfriend was laughing when he came home yesterday. Something about a 'weak boy who couldn't control his girlfriend and threw up all over the carpet.' Was that you? He's talking about suing you."

"Well, good thing I gave him a fake name." Akira tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it felt stiff. "He didn't...he didn't take it out on you, did he?"

"I think he thought it was funny. You really can't save people anymore, can you?" She sounded small, weak, defeated. "I'm stuck with him."

"No, you aren't." His nails dug into the armrest. "There's a way to stop him. I just know it." One good thing, it's all I ask. Show me how to keep her safe.

Before Tenaba could say anything else, Arisato shuffled to the podium. He didn't seem to have had a good day, either, and was leaning on his cane more heavily than Akira remembered. "Good evening." Even his voice sounded weaker. "Most of you are here tonight because you intuit that there are worlds beyond our own, that mere physical laws cannot explain what has happened. You've heard about Apathy Syndrome, the murderers in Inaba, or The Phantom Thieves. Maybe they've touched your life in some small way. And you just know that there was magic involved. Some god was manipulating things behind the scenes. And you were right."

Chatter broke out in the audience, and Akira leaned forward in his seat. He'd not given much thought to what Arisato would say, but just acknowledging the supernatural hadn't been it.

Arisato continued, "But if you're looking for magicians who throw fireballs or gods that throw thunderbolts, you're looking in the wrong place. This magic comes from the human heart. If there's anything flashy going on, it's not something most people are going to be able to see. We can feel the aftereffects. All of us collectively, our desires, we cause these incidents."

There was a scoffing noise behind Akira. "If I wanted self-help claptrap, I'd talk to a shrink."

Arisato must have heard it, because his eyes flashed. "You think I'm talking about some wishy-washy motivational poster stuff? Nothing could be further from the truth. I'm telling you that every time you follow some celebrity because you don't want to think for yourself or stick your fingers in your ears because the truth is just so hard, you—yes, you personally—are bringing the world a little closer to ending."

His gaze found Akira's, and his voice grew a little louder and Akira could almost see the boy who had led his friends into battle. "But I am also telling you that every time you refuse to give into despair, every time you help your neighbor, every time you fight for what's right, then you are fighting the forces of evil. A handful of children with magic powers may put their finger in the dam, but the truth is that ultimately our destiny isn't decided by some ice or lightning but by the small choices we make every day. That power of our hearts never goes away."

Sae's hand found his. "He's right, you know. We've just got to keep hacking away at the weeds. Become defense attorneys who lose cases and prosecutors who bring evil to justice."

"I know," he said. And he did know. Now if he could just believe. And find some way to help Tenaba.

"Is that all true?" Tenaba asked. "What I did helped make all those things happen?"

Akira thought of Yaldaboath on that last day. "I grant human wishes, and what they wish for is a strong leader who will think for them." "Not just you. It's more of a collective desire thing. Sometimes, some of us can just manipulate it for good."

"But still, my desires? That's how you were able to do what you did? Because of ordinary people?"

Another memory. Mishima raised his fist to the sky. "Come on Phantom Thieves! I believe in you!" Pain sloughed from Akira and he found strength to stand. Yes. The belief of ordinary people gave me the power to save the world. I bet it was the same for Arisato."

She looked down. "Then every time I give into him, I'm help something evil. Oh, I wish I could be a hero like you."

"Maybe you can be." Sae turned in her seat. "I've already made one arrest that I knew wouldn't stick for the greater good. I don't think I would have enough to get a conviction, but it might be enough to buy time to find something else and for you to leave. If you were willing to testify."

"Testify?" Her eyes were wide with terror. "I—he'll take everything away from me. Or kill me."

"He might do that anyway. Men like him never stop on their own."

"But-"

"You said you were a fan of the Phantom Thieves?" Akira fixed Tenaba with his gaze and hoped some of the old charisma was still there. "Then you know we stole Kunikazu Okumura's heart. But the reason we did was because he was forcing his daughter to marry Sugimura. He treated her just like he's treating you. And in the end, we didn't stop him. Her lawyers did."

Sae took a case from her purse. "I'm not planning to be with the prosecutors office for much longer, but while I am I promise I will do everything I can to help you. If you need anything at all, call me."

Tenaba looked at the card. "I—I'll think about it."

"Do you think she will?" Akira asked Sae later. They stood outside the hall, waiting for Arisato. Akira fiddled with the tarot deck. Spiked punch sounded pretty good at the moment.

Sae pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't know. It's always risky to speak out in these cases. The world says it's shameful, private. She's just supposed to take it. And when they do say something, the office pulls some kid fresh off their legal internship to prosecute it. I was just trying to keep hope alive."

"Yeah." Akira leaned back against the wall and stared at the sky. He'd lost count of the number of husbands, boyfriends, and girlfriends the Phantom Thieves had brought to justice because the rest of the world was more concerned with saving face. "You really think I'd be such a wonderful prosecutor? Then that's the division I want. They deserve someone who wants to fight for them." A laugh tore from his throat. "Great. Now I have to get better."

"You will." Sae squeezed his hand. "I'm going to go see what's keeping Arisato." She walked back in the direction of the entrance and disappeared inside.

Arisato. His fellow Wild Card who had returned from the dead and was on his way to a happy marriage. Who could get Akira treatment so maybe he and Sae could get a happy ending too. He would find a way to do good and silence the demon within.

No you won't.

Akira stood very still. Thoughts like that had been constant since his release, but this time they were almost audible. A deep and very familiar voice echoed within him. "You," Akira whispered and dropped into a fighting stance.

Yaldabaoth laughed. Indeed, mortal. Did you imagine that you had destroyed me? It was as you told the woman: the human desire for a strong ruler persists. My decree remains absolute. It has been amusing watching my supposed conqueror go mad.

Akira's breath came in pants. The fake god was back. But Akira had beaten him once. How strong could he be if he had moved from trying to destroy the world to tormenting one man? "You just don't know when to quit, do you? Looks like I have to kick your ass again. "

In this world? Without a Persona? You've felt the Shadow within. You are corrupted, and you've been battling the truth since my imagined defeat. Human desires have not changed because humans are incapable of changing. The strong brutalize the weak and the weak cower in their wake because that is what humanity desires.

His head hurt. It wasn't true. It couldn't be true."I seem to remember humanity picking us. I shot you in the head and everything."

They chose a charismatic champion. Nothing has changed. Observe.

Time slowed, and Akira's vision and hearing sharpened. A few intersections over, a man and a woman argued on the corner. No, not just a man and a woman. Sugimura gripped Tenaba's arm as she struggled fruitlessly in his grasp. "You bitch!" he growled. "I knew there was something strange about you speaking with that boy! You dared cheat on me, you little whore!"

"No, I-"

"Shut up!" His slap rang in Akira's ears as Tenaba recoiled. Rage swept over him. Someone should tear that rat limb from limb. He took a step forward.

Fool. I told you nothing had changed. Akira's vision shifted to two police officers on patrol. They will do his bidding, just as their colleagues cowered before Shido. No one will help her.

Akira kept walking.

Yaldabaoth's laughter was louder this time. And so you repeat history. Do you want to lose what's left of your sanity for nothing? There will be no Phantom Thieves this time, no glory. You will be locked away for another few years. You know what happened last time.

Akira stopped. He knew what would happen. The emptiness would come from him again.

Just so. The girl won't defend you. The woman you love is powerless to save you. You will suffer for nothing, just as those martyrs did. Their god does not exist and their faith was destroyed in fire.

"Please, no. Let me go!"

Akira took a deep breath. Anything he could do would be futile. He would break himself for nothing. And yet… and yet... There was a woman in pain. Just now, in that moment, he could stop that pain. It was that simple. He could make no lasting change, bring no one to justice, but he could do that.

What do you think you're doing?

"Something stupid." He charged forward and pulled Sugimura away with a shout. Sugimura went flying and hit his head on the pavement. Tenaba gasped in pain and surprise as she staggered backwards. Blood trickled on the pavement.

"I—you-" she whispered.

Sugimura swore and hauled himself to his knees. Blood streamed down his face from a gash on his forehead. "Do you have any idea who I—oh you're the weakling who decided he could poach on my property. Well, you've stepped in it now. The police belong to me."

As if on cue, the two officers Akira had seen rushed onto the scene. The younger blanched at the blood. "Mr. Sugimura? What happened to you?" He cleared his throat. "I mean, what is the meaning of this?"

Sugimura's voice was thick with false grief and outrage. "I was out walking with my girlfriend, and this...this miscreant attacked us. He threw me to the pavement. I believe he meant to assault my poor Saki."

"Well, that's it then," said the younger officer. "Come along, you."

"Hold on," said the older officer. "We have to follow protocol." He turned to Akira. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

See? Everything is as it was. I shall enjoy watching you go mad in the darkness.

Silence fell over the street. Just like last time, and the yet different somehow. He had faith his choice, and there was no point puking all over the pavement. He'd already made one futile, noble gesture. One more wouldn't hurt. "I saw him hitting this woman, so I pulled him off her. He lost his balance and hit the pavement." He met the officers' gazes. "He's the one you should arrest."

"You can't possibly take his word over mine. What are you waiting for? Arrest him!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sugimura. There are rules. Ma'am can you corroborate either of these stories?"

Akira's gaze met Tenaba. She looked as frightened as always, an ordinary girl in thrall to malevolent forces she had no hope of defeating. This was what he had chosen to sacrifice his mind for. She exhaled. "A hero," she whispered. Then, louder, but with her voice still trembling: "My boyfriend hit me. This young man saw and tried to save me."

"What?" Akira and Sugimura said at the same time.

"I'm tired of him hurting me, and I want you to take him to jail."

Sugimura recovered before Akira did. He rounded on her furiously, the blood dripping from his face making him look like some demon made flesh. "You will pay for that! These men won't dare lay a finger on me. You're nothing! Both of you!"

"Oh, I wouldn't say nothing," said Sae from behind Akira. "Sae Niijima, Special Investigations Unit. I believe I heard a criminal complaint, officers." Akira half turned. Sae and Arisato stood there, looking grimly pleased with themselves. He wondered how much they had overheard.

The color drained from the officers' faces. "What's Special Investigations doing all the way out here?"

"I was on vacation, but Sugimura and his father have been on our radar for some time." She and Arisato looked at each other. "I recently obtained the cooperation of the Kirijo Group."

"We have an interest as good corporate citizens in seeking lawbreakers brought to justice," Arisato added. "And hitting women? That's a special kind of disgusting."

K-kirijo?" Sweat broke out on the older officer's face. "Forget it, Sugimura. Your father can fight them if he wants, but it's not worth my hide. I'm going to have to ask you to come with us." He and his partner grabbed Sugimura and dragged him away.

Akira's knees buckled. "What was that?" he asked no one in particular.

Tenaba looked down. "You did so much for me. I had to try to be a little like you."

"Looks like humanity has some strength after all," Akira whispered. "Stay dead this time."

The silence was his answer.

"If you're worried about reprisals," Arisato was saying, "we have some connections in the prefecture. I should be able to make sure your job and rent aren't affected. And we'll do our best to help find evidence to make sure something sticks on Sugimura this time. Mitsuru is going to love that part," he said dryly.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" She bowed hastily. "And thank you, Mr. Kurusu. For everything."

"Mitsuru is going to kill me," Arisato said when she'd gone. He raked his free hand through his hair. "She hates it when we make a public scene. The things I let you and Sakura talk me into. She already thought the talk was going too far."

"Wait, how do you know Sojiro?" That was where Akira had heard the name Kirijo: he and Sae had been talking about right before he agreed that she could take Akira to Nagasaki. "Why was this? Some kind of weird set-up intervention?"

"He had contacts with us from his old job. He heard about me. It was garbled but enough for him to put two and two together, and he asked me to talk to you."

Sae looked embarrassed. "We both knew that you were in pain, and we wanted to help you. And we thought it'd be easier to talk to someone away from Tokyo. You needed a break. We didn't know how sick you were, and we certainly didn't expect Sugimura."

"So, weird intervention. Got it."

"Says the man's whose plan to save me involved getting shot in the Metaverse."

"Touché." Akira slouched against the nearest wall. He knew that Sojiro and Sae loved him but the kind of love that dealt with powerful and shadowy corporations or ran off to Nagasaki on an hour's notice didn't happen every day. He looked up. Thank you. I'll try to be worthy of everything You've given me. "Thank you both so much. I guess we need to talk about the psychiatrist now."

"Drinks first, psychiatrist later." Arisato smiled. "And if you brought my tarot cards, maybe now you'll play a game of poker. And I can show you what a real Wild Card can do."

Akira threaded his fingers with Sae's and squeezed. It wouldn't be easy, but they would make it. He'd ask her to spend the night tonight, and it sounded like she would say yes. The first step of the rest of their lives. "My friend, you have no idea what you're in for."