Raising Concerns

November 1st, 2:57 PM

Central Street, Shibuya

"Think fast kid." Akira barely registered the shout, his mind still hazy from his latest trip to the Velvet Room, but his hand shot out on pure instinct. He grabbed the object that came flying at him, but found himself fumbling with the irregular shape. Slipping through both his hands, he stuck his foot out, balancing the object perfectly on his shoe. Making sure to exhale evenly to dispel the knot in his chest, he slowly reached down to grab the handgun, mindful that he didn't lose his balance and drop it anyway. "Alright boys, the part-timer's here, either buy somethin' or get the fuck outta my store."

Of the two regulars that normally loitered around the store, the chubby one was the one who turned to make a fuss, his cheeks ruddy with frustration. "What the hell're you on our case about today, Iwai?"

"Sorry, what was that?" Iwai swung his feet down off the counter, not even looking at the man as he regarded Akira, an entire half of his face tugged up in a smirk, which was practically him jumping for joy with how rarely he emoted, that meant he was excited about something. "Don't sound like a wallet comin' out, so the door's right there. Hell, because I love my customers so much, I even made it handicap accessible, so you can still hobble outta here with my boot jammed in your ass."

Grumbling angry curses under their breath, the two regulars walked to the door that Akira was still standing in front of. "You work here part-time, huh? You gonna open the door for us?"

Akira sighed, mindful that his hands were twitching, tiny electric pulses seeming to course through them, a mere phantom of what he'd just been through, but one that he couldn't seem to dispel. His eyes flickered briefly to the men before him, lingering only for a second to make his observations. Entitled, easy to anger, hung out here most days just to be around like minded people, rarely buying anything in the process, always oddly 'waiting on a paycheck' to pick up the things they were looking at. They'd be back.

Akira stepped to the side. "For paying customers, I'd gladly open it." Folding his hands behind his back, he stared pointedly at the door, then up to their beady eyes, watching what little genuine fight the men had burn out. Casting another bitter glare at Iwai, the men shouldered their way out, allowing Akira to flip the store's sign to closed.

"Nice one kid," Iwai clapped, clearly entertained, "those two can be more trouble than they're worth, but they're harmless. That said, don't ever talk to any of my other customers like that, we clear?"

The ex-yakuza's voice stayed friendly, yet Akira couldn't seem to decipher who Iwai meant would be dangerous in that situation, the customers, or him. "Don't start a battle you aren't prepared to see through to the end, we've had this conversation before. Now, you forget how guns work since I last saw you? Whole point's that you don't have to throw shit at the dude you don't like. Y'know, if I'd dropped this thing, your ass'd be in hot water, I paid good money for this."

"Oh yeah?" Iwai leaned over the counter, shooting Akira a challenging smirk," what would you do, take my heart?"

"Don't put the idea in my head." Akira held Iwai's gaze, unblinking even as those grey eyes narrowed. The store was silent, save for the dull drone of the heater in the back office.

"Hah!" Iwai gave his odd bark of a laugh, and Akira joined him, unable to keep a straight face. "Why don'cha give her a once over, see what ya think." Akira stared down at the gun, hefting its unusually heavy body while mindlessly inspecting it, eager for the familiar process to help keep his mind off his spasming hands. Discharge the magazine, inspect the chamber to ensure it was empty, examine the barrel, then reload and cock it. He stopped himself just short of dropping it straight into his bag, mindful of the contents, before he recalled that his bag was absent one cat today, for some reason known only to said feline. "Before I remembered that I hired a friggin' ninja to work for me, I wanted it to drop to show off that new casing I fitted it with." Turning the gun over in his hands, Akira noticed that the material was definitely different now, and the weapon had a sleek matte black finish. "A bit heavier now, but with that upgrade it'll give ya less kickback while putting out better stopping power, plus there's no chance of it getting busted, you could take a hammer to that thing and the hammer would break."

Akira's hand clenched up as another shock ran up his arm, a faint click resounding from the gun as he involuntarily pulled the trigger. Not missing a beat before the hawk-eyed dealer, Akira gave him a goofy smile, "so, does it fire bigger bullets now?"

Iwai deadpanned, blinking rapidly as his brow furrowed. "No kid, it'll never not fire nine millimeters. Why the hell do you ask me that, every single time you come in?"

Akira grinned, "don't worry about it, it's just a….really stupid joke."

"Geez kid, I ever tell ya how weird you are? Whatever, whaddya think?"

"I think you've outdone yourself again Iwai," Akira said, impressed with the newest addition to his arsenal.

"Damn straight I've outdone myself, I was up all night messin' with that one, some of my best fuckin' work right there. Regulars'll be real happy to see something like that on the special menu."

"So I'm just a guinea pig for you to make your new custom parts?" Mindful that he'd said that in the most dull tone possible, Akira remembered to smirk, his eyes darting briefly towards the Velvet Room door, still visible from the shop's front window.

"And you've made me a real good chunk o' change because of it, just like a good part-timer should." Frowning, Iwai popped a spent lollipop stick from his lips, digging through his coat for a new one. "But I'm guessing you didn't come just to listen to me jerk myself off, so whaddya need today?"

"Oh, right. Iwai, you know I love ya right?"

"Where the hell're ya goin' with this kid?"

"I uh," Akira rubbed the back of his head, "picked up some equipment from another source, I was hoping that you could inspect- shit!" Unable to control the jitters in his hands, Akira verified that the new gun was in fact drop resistant. Scrambling to pick it up, he quickly deposited the weapon into his bag, rifling through for what he was looking for.

"Hey kid?" Iwai's rough voice snapped Akira to attention, seeing the new lollipop hovering just beside the ex-yakuza's mouth, his eyes trained squarely on Akira. "Come in the back for a sec." Raising an eyebrow, the teen was offered no explanation. Taking a deep breath, opening and closing his hands repeatedly to try to regain some level of mastery over them, he hopped the counter, following after. Some good honest shady dealing would do his nerves some good, something mechanical to put him back in control.

Entering the cramped office, Akira found Iwai reclining in a chair, a small black box in his hand. "What's up?"

"Take a seat," Iwai told him, gesturing to a clear spot on the desk, hastily moved invoices and bills haphazardly strewn around it, some having fallen onto the floor. Akira was shocked, Iwai never let him sit while he was back here, it was always right down to work, normally either playing janitor or secretary to put the pig sty in order. Deciding that it was probably best not to ask, Akira reclined against the desk, savoring the warmth radiating off the heater. Iwai smacked the black box against his open palm, producing a cigarette from within. "Smoke?" He asked, holding it out at arms length in a clear offering.

Akira frowned. "I thought you said you quit, why're you carrying those around?"

"'Course I quit," Iwai snarled, genuinely irked it seemed. "You think I'd expose Karou to this, get him hooked on this shit? Nah," he sighed, cooling down as quickly as he'd gotten angry. "Thing is, people like to think they can cut shit like booze or drugs outta their lives as easy as one, two, three. But it ain't that easy, the urge is always there, you just learn to manage it," to illustrate, Iwai finally pulled the lollipop out, popping it in his mouth. "Most people just cut their exposure, keep it outta their lives 'cause they're afraid they can't handle it. A real man though, he don't shy away, real man'll face that temptation every day. That's why I carry it around." There was a glimmer of genuine pride in the man's eyes as he shook the custom case. "So I'll ask again, you want one?"

Akira stared down at the cigarette with a grin, "sorry man, didn't mean to step on your toes. I'll pass though, those things'll kill ya."

"I've seen anxiety do a lot worse to a man than smoking could," Iwai commented, eyeing Akira's hands, which had mercifully stopped twitching. "Now you gonna tell me what's got ya so strung out? You're killin' my good mood here."

"What're you talking about?" Akira asked nervously, already cursing himself for not waiting longer to come to the store.

Iwai tucked the cigarettes away in his coat, folding his arms. "Kid, everyday of my life I've had to sniff out cops, killers, and liars. I smell one of the above right now, and I got this feeling Okumura wasn't your hit. Now c'mon, I've seen junkies shake less, so talk."

Dammit. Deflection was off the table, which meant he needed a convincing lie, one to fool a yakuza of all things. A former yakuza who was looking to get him to open up, to comfort him, one that was regularly interacting with a teen Akira's age… "Iwai, do I look like a thief to you?"

The man frowned, caught off guard. "With those glasses? No, you look like a nerd, I still can't wrap my head around all the shit you apparently do while looking like that. What does this have to do with you buggin' out on me?"

"It's my girlfriend," Akira huffed, trying to look defeated. "She wants her parents to finally meet me, which as you can probably guess, is freaking me out. Given...what I do, I'm worried the criminal aspect'll come across, and they'll make us break things off."

Scratching his stubbly cheek, Iwai chuckled. "Shit kid, that's your silver bullet? You stare down a crime boss with a loaded glock and yet you crack over some chick's mom and dad?"

"Oh come on," Akira huffed defensively, "you trying to say that Munehisa Iwai never fell in love?"

"Sure I did, kid, I just don't see what the problem is. The folks like you, win-win, they think you're a crook, ya double down, make off with their daughter. Girls love a bad boy after all."

Akira couldn't help but laugh. "Please tell me this is a conversation you've had with Karou, advising him to make off with another father's daughter?"

"Pfft, I wish this was a conversation I could have with him, all his problems are entrance exams, of course I need a daily reminder how dumb I am."

"You're gonna be the best dad, "Akira joked, "don't offer any of the hard-earned skills developed from a life of hiding your identity, y'know, learn the parents' jobs to gauge their expectations, learn which is the sympathetic face, nah, fuck that, just steal the daughter."

"Well I'm raisin' my son to be a man, not a friggin' peach. Still…" Iwai cupped his chin, a sad expression crossing his features, "he ever comes to me, I'm gonna have to be able to give him some actual wisdom, won't I? Shit, I guess it's too late to return him, huh?" Iwai sneered as Akira laughed, but found his grin quickly returning. "So, we uh...good here?" He asked, looking Akira up and down for any more ticks.

Strangely enough, seeing the stony gun dealer trying so hard for his adopted son, Akira did feel better. He was willing to face anything to protect what he cared about. You find ways to deal with them, but in the end, a man faces his demons. "Yeah," Akira nodded slowly, "yeah, we're good."

"Great," a relieved smirk crossed Iwai's face, "now I wanted to ask ya before, ya given any thought to my offer?"

"You're serious about that," Akira sighed, it wasn't a question, he knew Iwai better than that.

"You know it, you risked it all for us, far as I'm concerned, that makes you an Iwai now, may as well make it official. Already got a guy who'll do it for ya too, same place even," Iwai said, tapping a finger to his neck.

"I'm flattered, really, but that's a family thing, I couldn't. Can we just get down to why I'm here?"

"I take it you're droppin' somethin' for me to look at?" Akira nodded. "Then sure, I'll take a look at anything you've got. IF, you agree. Ya don't have to do it today, but ya gotta come back for whatever you're droppin' off, we'll take care of ya then. Deal?"

"You realize we literally just had a discussion about how I'm trying not to look like a delinquent, right?" Iwai's grin widened, but he said nothing. Akira sucked in a sharp breath, gently cradling the nape of his neck, he couldn't believe he was about to agree to this, but Iwai was vital to the Phantom Thieves' operations, and he could be a stubborn old dog when he wanted to be, he'd keep finding ways to bring this up. "Fine, I'll wear the Gecko with honor." Iwai couldn't smother his smile fast enough to escape notice, making the teen snicker. Rooting through his bag, Akira got down to business. "I need you to take a look at this."

…..

November 1st, 2:25 PM

Courthouse Lobby, Kasumigaseki

Heads, tails, heads, over.

End over end over end over end.

Akechi pinched the five hundred yen coin between his thumb and forefinger, tossing it across his lap and into his left hand, then resumed rolling it across the knuckles of that hand. When he was in public, he was Tokyo's beloved Detective Prince, the picture of charisma and confidence. His hands were either folded politely, or gesticulating to make some point or another, ever the instruments he used to put up a convincing song and dance. But in these quieter moments, in the pleasure of an empty room, free of his audiences, he could allow his hands to fidget.

Tails, heads, tails, over. Tails, heads, tails, over.

Once more he scanned the room, eyes trailing slowly to the edges of his peripheral vision, his head moving even slower so as to not seem like he was searching for eavesdroppers. Content that he was still alone, he let his left hand flip the coin on autopilot, taking out his phone with his right, pulling up his group chat with the Phantom Thieves. School was out, and now he was simply awaiting the message from Akira calling them to Leblanc. Still nothing, no activity since Friday, after their first official excursion. It was going to be today, it had to be today. Studying the group's methods during their Okumura heist, they worked themselves ragged to navigate Palaces as quickly as possible, and with their very lives on the line here, they wouldn't deviate from that for Sae. He'd remained in the courthouse then, instead of venturing preemptively to the hideout, because they wouldn't know that he knew their methods and behaviors, added to that, the fact that he was meant to be a reluctant partner, meant that he couldn't play off being eager either.

Heads, tails, heads, over.

What must they think of me?

A beam saber and a ray gun. It was innocent, in an almost infantile way, it would seem to them that his perception of a hero was an amalgamation of everything an imaginative child found cool and inspiring. But was it too innocent? Gods, it was so obvious, and it's because it's too innocent. Those smiles and snickers, when they'd first seen his weapons of choice, what if they weren't smiles of, 'oh what a little scamp, we finally get to see the sheltered detective come out of his shell,' and instead were 'oh he's trying so hard to act like he's innocent, if only he'd waited more than five seconds after we'd all left to shoot Okumura's shadow, he might've convinced us'. He shook his head, he'd definitely jumped the gun on that hit, but they were fleeing in fear from an exploding space station, messy or not, that wouldn't be how they'd see through him. What if they weren't fooled by the poll on Okumura at all? What if they'd gone after him simply because they saw that girl in trouble? They had THE Medjed on their side, it wasn't impossible that they'd known immediately that the poll was tampered with and were just playing along. Maybe it was the cat, that worthless creature had been wandering Mementos even before the Phantom Thieves began, it was possible it had seen him while on assignment for Shido, inflicting shutdowns upon members of the faceless masses.

I'm suspecting a goddamned cat now, what is wrong with me? They don't suspect a thing, of course I see my own weaknesses, and that's exactly why they never will, I make mistakes, I learn, my mask grows stronger. Just relax, even when you're alone, there are always eyes on you, the only difference is that you conjure them yourself.

Tails, heads, tails, over.

I need to get out of here. Closing the group chat, he pulled up the most recent conversation from earlier that day, hoping to get something out of the mastermind himself.

Joker: Well Mr. Holmes, I trust you're adjusting well to our petty band of thieves.

Me: As much as I can, I'm afraid that using these powers for the express purpose of manipulation doesn't sit well with me.

Joker: Well I'm sorry to hear that, unfortunately we don't all possess your wellspring of willpower.

Joker: God in his infinite wisdom made the devil far stronger than we mere mortal men. I'm afraid most of us succumb to the temptation when given the kind of power we have now.

Me: I never took you for a religious man Kurusu.

Joker: I'm not, but I do know the devil, she's our PR manager. Gotta be said, she's doin' a shit job of it lately.

Me: Goodness, if you can't even trust the DEVIL, who do you turn to?

Joker: I know right!? I mean, I realize I sold her somebody else's soul for it, speaking of, it's been weeks since I've seen the little Phan-boy, maybe she finally gave him that heart attack he's been hoping for. Anyway, you'd expect some kind of quality assurance with that kinda price tag, dontcha think?

Me: There certainly should be. I can't say that I've ever seen any examples of this devil's advertisement, but it certainly is lackluster, I don't know if you're aware of this, but rumor has it that, apparently, you killed somebody.

Joker: You heard that too huh? Yeah, the Phantom Thieves stand against many things, pedophilia, physical abuse, plagiarism, drug trafficking, cyber terrorism, but they draw a hard line at fast food management.

Joker: You bring up a fantastic point though, I... have literally never read a single thing that she's written about us...I should probably do that.

Me: I believe we have a much more expedient method of clearing your name than resorting to the works of pen and paper.

Joker is typing…

Akechi shook his head, unable to fathom why he played along with this behavior. It just...seemed like the thing to do, when it became clear that he wouldn't get what he was after, better to humor him. As had happened on every previous attempt to gain an understanding of Akira Kurusu, the very second that Akechi had managed to get a serious response out of him, he'd immediately switched to his Joker persona, truly living up to that name as well. The devil was their PR manager, it takes a truly enigmatic mind to conjure a line like that. Akechi just couldn't seem to get a read on him, was that grim seriousness the real Akira? Or was it merely another mask, and Joker was the true him, unfettered now by society's shackles. It would explain why the glimpses he got were so brief, yet occurred so regularly when they spoke, it could just be the transfer student placating him, trying to adapt to the detective the same way he seemed to do with every person he encountered.

And what is that power of his? To claim the masks of the shadows he slays, it's not like my own, it's not subjugation, then what? Does he even possess a true persona like the others do? Just what is it about this country bumpkin that makes him so special? Perhaps if he hadn't decided to leave me hanging like this, I'd have been able to get an idea.

Akira had been 'typing' for nearly forty minutes now, and the transfer student didn't exactly strike Akechi as the long form essay type. Would it be in line with his role of averse accomplice to express concern? Perhaps he could just be blunt, send a message inquiring if they'd be going today at all, that wouldn't be suspicious, would it? If he included a detail like there being a movie he wanted to attend if he wasn't needed, it would become perfectly innocent.

He'd been meaning to catch a viewing of Green Turtle, it seemed like exactly the kind of mindless superhero fun he needed right now, something to turn his brain off for a few hours. Ah, but what if somebody recognized him? They'd ask for his thoughts on the film, which would mean he'd have to actually devote his attention to it since he couldn't be honest and dismiss it as 'mindless drivel' to his fans who were probably genuinely invested in it.

Heads, tails, heads, over. Heads, tails, he-

"Akechi?"

Both his internal dialogue and rhythm broken, Akechi merely stared after the coin as it rolled free of his grasp and onto the floor, before being brought to a halt beneath a fine black heel. Sae knelt to retrieve it, a scowl lingering on her lips as she offered it back to him.

"Sae-san, last I checked you weren't working pro bono," he teased, "so I'm not sure why you seem practically offended by a five hundred yen piece." Consciously sitting a bit more rigidly in his seat as he palmed the coin, his smile came easily, Sae Niijima was entertaining enough to be around after all, messing with her was all too easy.

She seemed needled by that one, but reigned in control over her expression. "I apologize, I'm a bit on edge today, I'm wrapped up in this other case and it's...presenting difficulties."

Seeing the despondent look in her eyes, Akechi set his phone aside, folding his hands in his lap. "Perhaps I could help expedite the process? I'd very much appreciate your full efforts on the Phantom Thieves case after all."

"I'm afraid, given the fact that you were brought on specifically for the Phantom Thieves, that I can't share any details of outside cases." She sighed, smoothing out the edges of her suit jacket. "Honestly, I didn't expect to find you here, I was hoping for a bit of peace and quiet."

That would make two of us.

"Quiet? So you can hear your own thoughts and frustrations more clearly? If you're not making any progress as you are, then placing yourself in isolated silence isn't going to help. I think you'd benefit more from a walk and some fresh air, Sae-san."

"I…" Sae opened her mouth to protest, then seemed to think better of it. "Maybe you're right. I think they've opened up a small café a few blocks away, would you like me to bring you back a cup of coffee?"

Akechi's polite grin widened, far too easy. "That would be delightful Sae-san, I take mine black."

"Alright, I'll try not to be too long."

"Take your time Sae, like I've said, stress is the-"

"-Enemy of beauty, yes, you've mentioned that. What would all your adoring fans say if they found out what a charmer you actually are?"

"I imagine they'd be upset for another week before they've moved on yet again," he mused. "They're sort of like coffee in that way, hot and impassioned enough to take your tongue off one second, then cold and indifferent the very next. That said, I still think we both enjoy our coffee hot Sae, so you'd best be off, I'm sure you'll find the open air vastly preferable to my company anyway."

Sae glared at him, weighing his response. "For somebody who's seemed especially fond of the attention from being the Detective Prince, you're oddly blasé about the public's opinion of you."

Not taking the bait, Akechi shrugged, "pressing me for information may help you feel like you're not losing your edge, but it also isn't going to bring you any closer to this case's resolution, Sae-san."

"Hmph," seeing that she wouldn't pry anything more from him, Sae offered a curt nod before wandering towards the exit. Akechi sighed, the woman had two settings, collected and uptight, or angry and catty, just one step above being made of stone, and just as interesting.

Still, it was rare that she got in any way flustered over something, it must be quite the case. Probably for the best that she didn't accept his offer, the longer she kept at it, the less he'd need to explain his lack of availability when he ventured into the Metaverse. Plus it'd be just a terrible shame if her suspect dropped dead of a heart attack or something like that. How could the Phantom Thieves do something like this? Seems they've embraced this side of themselves Sae, we'll make sure that they pay for what they've done.

"Dammit." He rested his cheek in his hand, clenching his eyes shut. It was...unsettling, what only two years of working with his father had done to his perspective, what the ability to kill without leaving a trace had done to him. Got a problem? Just kill them, problem solved. "But I don't need to kill them, do I? The Phantom Thieves….stealing desires….what kind of ludicrous, asinine, bullshit?" But if I'd known, would I have continued working for father?

Heads, tails, heads, over. Heads, tails, heads, over.

End over end over end over end.

"You act as if it's too late for you."

Akechi opened his eyes, folding his hands politely in his lap once more, mindful that prying eyes could pass through the lobby at any moment. The girl standing a few feet away from him was incredibly short, barely clearing eye level with Akechi while he was sitting. Dressed like a walking highlighter in comparison to the courthouse's usual patrons, she wore a bright red vest and tie over a gold dress shirt, red silk gloves, with trim black pants and sharp toed shoes. Her blond hair was cut so short that it barely reached past her ears, and her skin was a white so ghastly that Akechi wondered if it had ever seen the light of the sun. "Safie."

"Akechi," the girl's voice dropped an octave in a poor imitation of his own, "we're playing the consummate professional today I see. Alright, I can do that, I've been working on this one." Wiggling her hips as if to sit down, the girl gave a little hop, landing on thin air, her whole body hovering a foot off the floor. Squirming in her invisible seat to get comfortable, she crossed her legs daintily, then folded her own hands, mimicking his posture.

Akechi felt his blood boil as he quietly observed the impish girl across from him, trying her best to match his glowering visage, failing to contain the twitch at the corner of her mouth, threatening to crack into a grin. With high cheekbones and a sharply angular face offset by the slightest trace of baby fat, she couldn't have been a day older than Akechi himself. Of course, looks could be deceiving, not a hair on her head had changed since he'd first met her, she could be an ageless demon, around for eons, or she could be seven months old.

Every time he saw her, he almost longed for the familiar appearance of the Velvet Room door, the ghostly red archway that appeared from thin air, draped with heavy red curtains, calling him to take the stage before his otherworldly benefactor. For an entire year he'd ventured there to hone his abilities, paying any price necessary to get what he wanted. Then, something changed, Akechi still wasn't sure what, but he no longer saw those doorways dotting the city, instead he'd gained a new way to access the Velvet Room.

Because in the middle of April, Safie had sprung into existence, in this very lobby no less. "On account of a sudden doubling of my master's workload, he's taken me on as an assistant, and it would be my honor to serve you as well. Name's Safie. Safie. Sah-fih. Suh-fee. Ssssssafie. That's Afie with an S in front of it. I'll tell ya what, it's no Lavenza, but I like it." Akechi lifted an eyebrow at the girl, that voice most certainly not in his head. "Sorry-er, my apologies," she corrected herself, her voice dropping back down to that mockingly posh imitation of his voice, "you seemed like you were reminiscing, so I endeavored to, discern what memories you, my vindictive friend, might be recalling, and could only think to the halcyon days-" she took an exceptionally long pause on that one, obviously quite pleased with herself, "-of our first interactions, so I simply wished to recreate our first encounter. I remember you seemed so flummoxed with m-"

"Safie," Akechi clenched his fists, his knuckles popping as he tried to keep his temper in check.

"Oh good," her voice bounced back to its usual whiny pitch, "you were getting tired of that too. Y'know, I can never get that voice right, and lemme just say, if I could, I wouldn't keep doing it."

"Safie!"

"You're right Akechi, I needed to hear it three times just to be sure, but that is my name."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he turned his head away, unable to continue looking into those golden eyes without feeling a tad unsettled. "Just...what does He want with me this time?"

Safie pouted, placing her hands on her hips, "I don't need Master's permission to leave." Seeing the look of doubt Akechi was giving her, she scowled, "Master's off attending to other business at the moment, he doesn't talk to me about it. But maybe I wanted to stretch my legs a bit. Maybe I wanted to see you, I know, crazy that somebody would want to see you when you're not putting on a show for them, right?" Her eyes crinkled in a devious smirk, "speaking of which, how's your new power serving you, 'Crow'?"

"I presume you're referring to Robin Hood, but 'speaking of which'?"

"Oh don't play dumb Akechi, you don't have enough experience to take on that role. Use that big detective noggin' of yours, Robin Hood, the gallant thief turned hero of the people, seeking to right a grave injustice in the world, imposed by a corrupt government, we both know that's not how you see yourself. But I know somebody~ who fits that description pretty well, don't you?"

Akechi sighed, "must you always be so chipper about everything?"

"Well somebody's gotta be," hopping off her invisible chair to approach Akechi, one crimson clad finger reaching out to tap his nose, "you made yourself your first true friend, Akechi!" Growling, his hands shot out to seize the little demon's wrist, but she happily danced out of reach, "ooh, and the only true friend you'll make at this rate," she giggled to herself. "Akira!"

"Yes, I'm not brain dead Safie, I gathered that you were referring to-"

"No, you got a message from him," she informed him, standing on the tips of her toes to see the blinking light on his phone. Glaring at her one more time, Akechi opened the conversation.

Joker: Get your lucky neckerchief on Goro-boy, and get your ass to Leblanc, we're hittin' up the casino.

Me: Of course, I'll see if I can't 'steal away' from my current meeting.

As soon as he hit send, Akechi swore under his breath. "Oh, you've got it so bad," Safie crooned from over his shoulder.

"Well would you look at that, Safie, I'm afraid I have prior engagements, so I must be going." Standing up, Akechi tugged at his lapels, but didn't move to leave yet. "It's been a month since I've had the pleasure of Igor's company, what's he playing at exactly?"

Safie's smile was sad as she eyed her shoes. "He told me what I told you, he has other business to attend to. But he also said this, 'The Puppet will continue his dance, even if he must pull his own strings to do so.'" Her smile dropped altogether when she lifted her head up to meet his gaze, "so, Puppet, off to your next performance?"

Pocketing both his phone and coin, Akechi adjusted his tie, assiduous in keeping his appearance. "The Phantom Thieves won't end themselves, now will they?"

…..

November 1st, 3:24 PM

Leblanc Café, Yongen-Jaya

Flame burst to life beneath the brewer, Haru watching intently as she ran her mental checklist, checking and double checking that everything was perfect. She was going to serve up the absolute best cup of coffee she could. She was a Phantom Thief after all, if she couldn't even brew a cup of coffee while under a little stress, then what good would she be when the situation demanded her best?

"I'd like to help out if I can, would you like me to set out cups, or I could…measure out...coffee stuff...I could set out cups?"

"Sit," Haru said simply, shutting Makoto down. She watched the class president sink back into her booth seat, her hands twitching with the need to do something.

"Don't worry Haru," Futaba piped up, swinging her legs up into the booth and laying them out over Makoto's lap. "I'll hold her down," she chuckled, idly tapping away at her phone.

"Thanks Futaba,' Haru giggled, remembering to smile. "Careful though, Mako-chan seems like a biter to me."

"Well good luck trying, my body's eighty percent bone, twenty percent processed fat, you bite me and you'll choke on pocky stick dust." Frowning as she failed to get a reaction, Futaba lifted one leg, lightly tapping Makoto's nose with the toe of her boot. "Lighten up Prez, I don't think we're in trouble.

"Hey Haru, are you gonna do the thing I asked you about with the coffee?" Ann asked, seated opposite Makoto and Futaba, paging through part of Leblanc's extensive collection of magazines that Akira had been hoarding, this particular one on Chinese sweets.

"I'm gonna try," Haru told her, doing another check that she had everything prepped while the coffee brewed. "Mako-chan, everything alright? You're looking a bit restless."

"Sorry," Makoto sighed, rubbing her neck. "It's just that..well, I'm used to being the one to gather everyone together. I mean, sometimes Akira does it too...after consulting me. I'm just...wondering what's going on, I guess."

"You surprised all of us when you sent that text Haru," Ann agreed,. "Is everything alright?"

Haru shrugged, "yes and no. I'd rather not get into it until the guys get here. Have we heard anything from them yet?"

"Last update was from Yusuke," Futaba informed them, "he picked Ryuji up in Shibuya and they were heading our way, that was about twenty minutes ago."

"Which means we have anywhere from five minutes to two hours depending on if Yusuke had money for the train or not. I sent Morgana out to catch them when they come," Ann added.

"It's about Akira, I take it," Makoto intuited, derailing the conversation as she doggedly refused to be kept in the dark. "There are two people you left out of the group chat you sent, Akechi, and Akira. If it were about Akechi, it wouldn't make sense not to have our leader here, whereas in the reverse case, we wouldn't want Akechi hearing anything about Akira. I'm right, aren't I?" Haru sucked in a breath, her lips drawing into a taut line, hands curling and uncurling at her sides before busying herself with her coffee.

"Congratulations, you figured me out." Haru stuck her tongue out at the Phantom's second in command. "Mako-chan, if you can't relax and wait like everybody else, then I'm afraid I can't in good conscience introduce caffeine into you. So, miss P.I President, either calm down, or no coffee for you." Folding her arms proudly, Haru despaired to see the other girls shaking their heads at her. "No P.I Prez, huh?"

"It's not beating Yusuke's 'Queenpin' that he came up with after the Kaneshiro heist,' Ann told her.

"Definitely not topping Ryuji's 'Aikidork', that's still what she's listed as on my phone," Futaba flashed her phone screen to confirm this.

"For what it's worth, I'm still partial to 'Rider',' Makoto threw in, "aside from sounding cool, it's the only nickname that ISN'T, MAKING FUN OF ME!"

"Oh," Ann smiled, "I guess we won't tell you why Akira calls you that then." Makoto groaned, burying her face in her hands. "The best one's still gotta be Akira's 'Repressed School Girl' though."

Haru squeezed her eyes shut again, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Leaning over the counter, she watched through the coffee vapor as Makoto went ballistic, screaming into her hands while her legs kicked wildly into the underside of the table. "That doesn't seem nearly as clever as the others," she noted. Ann and Futaba were beside themselves with laughter, the former covering her face with her magazine while the latter was wiping away tears, her movements restricted as Makoto seized her legs in a death grip.

"It's really not," Futaba squeaked, struggling to control her breathing as the repressed schoolgirl leveraged her grip on Futaba's legs, pressing them down into the laughing girl's stomach. "If you kill me for it then the name will only become stronger!" Scowling hard, Makoto relented, hands twitching as she allowed Futaba to sit upright and explain. "It's the best one because Akira made it in...we'll call it homage to Makoto's naming scheme for the Metaverse shadows. He gave it to her while they were going through my Palace." Makoto's resolve snapped, clapping her hands over Futaba's mouth as her cheeks turned red.

"Where she came up with her best one," Ann continued, shrinking back in her seat to narrowly avoid an under the table kick from Makoto, "completely blowing Akira out of the water from when he'd done the naming. He came up with 'Leafy Old Man' for one of the shadows in Madarame's Palace, and Ryuji and I gave him no end of crap for that. Then Makoto comes in with 'Angry Bird God', which wasn't worth the nickname on its own, but then we realized that she wasn't joking."

Futaba managed to force Makoto's hands from around her mouth as the class president turned her attention fully to Ann. "Thus 'Repressed School Girl' came to be. So yeah, not that clever, because it's really just a big in-joke."

Leblanc's bell rang as the door swung open, crashing against the wall, causing the glass to rattle as three figures entered. "Finally found them," Morgana announced, trailing Yusuke behind him, with Ryuji dragging himself in after, looking a mess and with a strange object clutched in his hands.

"Oh thank god, Ryuji's here,' Makoto cried, relief flooding her as the teasing was brought to an abrupt end.

The three newcomers stopped in their tracks, all eyeing the class president warily. "How long was I gone?" Morgana asked.

"Too long," Makoto told him, hands extended as she pined for the cat, who leapt up into her lap for a scratch.

"I apologize for taking so long," Yusuke offered, sliding into the seat beside Ann, "Ryuji, it seems, is incredibly easy to distract."

"I believe it." "Makes sense." "Not surprising." "Was it ever in question?" Ryuji rolled his eyes at the girls' show of unanimity

"So uh, Ryuji,' Ann paused to give the blond boy a once over, "do we wanna hear what happened to your clothes? Or why you brought a knife?"

"Well Haru's text came while I was in the middle of a workout," Ryuji explained, tugging the neckline of his still damp yellow tank top to air it out. "Going to the gym's expensive, I couldn't just drop everything without getting a few reps in."

"I don't believe you're in any position to be talking about wasting money after what just happened."

"Ho~ly crap,' Ann tittered, "What'd you do that Yusuke's calling you out on money issues."

"Dammit man," Ryuji groaned, throwing a withering glare at Yusuke before he held up the jet black knife he'd walked in with. "I got flagged down by that old guy at the second hand shop. I still don't think it's my fault, that dude's an effin' wizard!"

"That'd be Yumenoshima, greatest hustler in Yongen-Jaya," Futaba informed them, "that man'll weasel every yen outta your pockets once he gets you in his sights."

Ryuji threw his hands up, "now you say something! I started talking to him, he says something about being too old to move some stuff, forty seconds later I'm back to sweating 'cause I'd moved two TV sets, and put out ¥5000 for this thing, he said Akira collects 'em."

"Pfft." That broke Futaba again as she devolved into a fit of giggles. "How much money did ya have in your wallet?"

"I had ¥5500, I've barely got enough left to get home."

"Man's got a sixth sense for cash, I swear. For reference, he only charges Akira ¥1000." Grumbling, Ryuji swung one of the counter chairs to face everyone, and immediately Futaba's laughter stopped as she surged to her feet, jabbing a finger at him, causing him to freeze up as he hovered over the seat. "You are NOT sitting on those cushions, I'm not scrubbing Ryuji ass sweat!"

"What, you want me to sit on the floor!?"

"Yes!" Came the unanimous cry from the table. Sneering at each of them, he reclined against the counter, keeping his ass well away from any surfaces.

"Anyway," Yusuke continued, pulling out a pen to begin scribbling on a napkin, "I admit I definitely should've intervened, but I was curious to see just how deep Ryuji could dig hims-"

"You're both late," Haru's voice sent a chill through both boys' spines, causing their faces to flush with shame as they clamped their mouths shut. Ryuji felt a tap against his shoulder, he turned to meet Haru's gaze from behind the counter, with a look that read more disappointed than angry, she offered a steaming cup of coffee. Ryuji accepted it with only a moment's hesitation, not a big coffee man but also not wanting to further upset that angelic face.

"Thanks Har-" glancing down into the cup, he found something drawn foam. A message.

It read simply: You Stink.

"Did you actually do it?" Ann asked, seeing the stunned look on Ryuji's face. The boy's head snapped up to see a bright smile shred through the mask of disappointment on Haru's face. That smile was all the confirmation needed as Ann stood up, holding her hand out, which Haru bounded out from behind the counter to meet in a joyous high five.

"I'm sorry Ryuji, Ann asked me to do it," Haru assured him, offering an apologetic smile.

"Really cutting deep here," he replied, glancing back down into his cup, "it take both of you to come up with this one?"

"Ryuji, there's no call for such rudeness!" Yusuke chastised him, with such passion that Ryuji almost thought the artist was in on it, until he remembered he was speaking to the man who tried to talk him into walking all the way to Yongen.

"Oh, but this was totally okay?" Ryuji demanded, gasping as he shook the cup enough that some of the coffee spilt onto his arm, burning his skin.

Haru lips drew tight as she fought against a laugh at Ryuji's little mewl of pain, quickly shuffling her way back behind the counter to continue pouring before she could break down, "I'll make you some hot cocoa instead Ryuji."

"I'll take his coffee!" Ann chimed from her corner seat, "wouldn't want it getting cold and going to waste." With one more scowl at the message in his drink, one that he decided was definitely all Haru, Ryuji eagerly passed off the cup. A few minutes later, Haru came around with coffee for Makoto, Yusuke, and herself, with hot cocoa for Ryuji, and iced cocoa for Futaba. As Futaba took her drink, she hopped out of her seat to make room for Haru, taking a seat hanging over the back of the booth behind the two upperclassmen.

"You really don't need to give up your seat for me Futaba," Haru told her, nonetheless scooting in front of Makoto to plop down in the newly vacated spot.

"It's for the best, when I have my iced cocoa, I get a bit jumpy."

"Iced cocoa, it's hot chocolate that you've taken the 'hot' out of, at that point aren't you just drinking chocolate milk?" Ryuji asked, sipping at his beverage.

"Well you're just a stinking sack of meat that's a bit of a dick," Morgana finally pitched in, stretching himself out in Makoto's lap," but we still call you Ryuji. So y'know, sometimes people just do things for appearance's sake."

"Ooooh, nice one Mona!" Futaba cheered, giving the cat a thumbs up.

"I thought we were done with ragging on me," Ryuji grumbled, glaring angrily between Futaba and Morgana.

"It never goes out of season, Ryuji," Makoto stated, the ghost of a smile on her lips as she took a sip of her coffee.

So with all the hating on Ryuji out of their systems, the group descended into a comfortable silence, all leisurely taking sips at their drinks.

"It's strange," Yusuke was the first to break the silence, "normally this is the time when we ask Akira to break down our objectives for the day. So Haru, what exactly did you need to discuss with us that required both Akechi and our leader be conspicuously absent?"

"Well, um…" Haru began quite timidly, her hands visibly quaking, preventing her from even touching her coffee. She felt Makoto's warm hand close over hers, giving a reassuring squeeze to calm her nerves a little. Nodding to her friend, she continued with renewed strength. "It's actually concerning Akira, he's-"

With all the tact at her disposal, Ann managed to keep the coffee in her mouth as she finally took a sip, shuddering at the taste, but it was enough to draw every set of eyes to her. "Oh! Uh…"

"S-Sorry Ann," Haru stammered, now casting nervous glances around to each of the cups at the table," I guess I've still got a lot to learn on brewing."

"No Haru!" Ann exclaimed, flush with embarrassment, "It's not that…"

"The roast is hardly the work of an amateur, Haru," Yusuke offered, sipping lightly at his coffee, "it's delightfully smooth, blended to perfection in fact, though its profile is somewhat bland."

"It's just not…" Makoto chimed in now, searching for the right words.

"It ain't Akira's," Ryuji stated bluntly, ignoring the angry stares the comment earned from around the table. "I mean, I ain't even a coffee guy, but I can tell that his stuff's just on a whole other level. I think we're just all used to that now." At this, everyone's expressions softened, then began to slowly nod in agreement.

Haru sat there a moment in silence, her trembling hands now balling into fists, eyes closed as she breathed deep, endeavoring to calm herself. Alarmed his mouth had betrayed him yet again, Ryuji fell to his knees in front of the Okumura heir. "Haru, I... I didn't mean it like tha-"

"What has Akira been doing at the Palaces!?" She demanded, surging to her feet in a rare showing of genuine anger. Seeing the blank stares she received in response, she huffed, settling back into her chair with a defeated sigh. "He just...spaces out for minutes at a time, you all seem to just be okay with it, what wasn't I told?"

"Well…" Morgana began, hopping from his perch in Makoto's lap up onto the table. "He never actually tells us what goes on, but he always comes out of those little trances with new personas, whatever happens, that's where he gains the bulk of his powers."

"And obtaining these new personas… I mean, negotiations with shadows are one thing, but this method of gaining them, is it all in his head? What does that do to him? Surely that can't be a pleasant experience. I mean, when Milady awakened in me, it was...exciting, and, invigorating, but before that it was just agony, there was a fire in my skull, like she was...branding me. And Akira just, does that, nearly every single time we enter the Metaverse? He can't be okay...right?"

One could hear a pin drop in the ensuing silence as each of the Phantoms exchanged guilty, wide-eyed looks. Haru observed their response with something akin to horror, had none of them considered that Akira was shouldering more than simply the mantle of leadership with his powers? Was this genuinely coming out of nowhere for all of them?

"I...he's never expressed having any problems with it, I'm not sure there's any cause for…" Makoto stopped herself as her voice cracked. Covering her mouth, she sucked in a breath, then continued in class president mode, "something must have brought this on, Haru, we can't just go on pure speculation. Akira's been nothing if not dependable, we can't go confronting him without something solid."

"Well," Haru tangled a hand in her curly hair, throwing back half her coffee to steel her nerves. "It was at Destineyland that I noticed something was wrong. It was so incredible being there with everyone, everything was finally turning up for me, and then, when I saw my father, I ran...and Akira came after me. I didn't even make it to the gates before I…" Her voice was barely coming out as a whisper now, but rather than say anything and upset her, everyone leaned a bit closer in their seats. "Before I broke down, and Akira was right there the second I stopped. He grabbed me by the shoulders, and he held me, and then he-"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Ryuji threw his hands up in a cross shape, "keep it PG Haru, we gotta kid in the room."

"Alright Meathead," Futaba growled, "I will knock out all your teeth and pour that hot cocoa straight down your windpipe!"

"Enough! Both of you!" Makoto thundered, "Haru's trying to speak."

Haru managed a small grin as she caught Ryuji's poorly smothered smile, his eyes squarely on her even as Makoto went off on him. Every once in a while the blond haired rebel could do something remarkable to remind her to smile.

"Thank you," she mouthed to him, before clearing her throat. "He smiled at me, and for the first time since I met him, he seemed...small, he was scared, he had no idea what was going on."

"It certainly wasn't like with the Shujin principal,' Yusuke bit his lip, his pen quivering ever so slightly, 'we'd been there in his Palace. For a while, it could've been us that did that."

"We were all scared," Ryuji reminded them.

Haru stared into her coffee, her voice back to a whisper, "exactly." She tipped back the rest of her cup, cheeks glowing. "We were all scared, including Akira. Things are bad now, people want us dead, and for our plan to work, we need Akira more than ever...but we still need to realize that he's not invincible. He doesn't want us to know that, he doesn't even want to acknowledge it himself it seems."

"Haru, I see what you mean but-"

"Makoto," Haru's barely restrained anger blazed in her eyes, "with all due respect, I think I'm something of an authority on people putting on brave faces." Another, far more subdued silence fell over them as each of the Phantoms mulled all this over. Haru rubbed her arm sullenly, not wanting that all to have come out quite so forcefully.

Morgana, sensing her discomfort, cleared his throat. "I'll take it from here Haru. I think I can shed a bit more light on all of this,' he declared, "after all, I spend nearly every minute of the day with him, if he's ever gonna drop his guard and have a moment of vulnerability, chances are good I'll be there."

"And?" Ann asked expectantly.

"He doesn't let his guard down."

"Real helpful, cat." Growling, Morgana prepared to pounce on the offending Ryuji, before a head scratch from Ann pacified him.

"I'm sensing a big 'but' here, Ryuji," Makoto stated flatly.

"'I'm sensing big butts' is definitely going under sentences I never thought I'd hear Makoto say," Futaba snickered. Seeing the look the class president sent her way, she grumbled, "yeah, yeah, I know, serious time."

Morgana turned his nose up, waiting a moment to make sure there were no more interruptions before continuing. "So yeah, he doesn't let his guard down, during the day, BUT, he…" lowering his head, the cat sighed, "he talks in his sleep sometimes."

"Oh," Makoto coughed, blushing, "this is turning unexpectedly intimate, um...talks about what?"

"It's mostly nonsense, pieces of conversations, it's mainly names that I pick up on, Rangda, Iwai, Caroline, Arsene, Justi-"

"Arsene?" Yusuke's scribbling stopped, his eyes narrowing in confusion, "he speaks to his personas?"

"Can he do that?" Ann asked, "I think the only time I've spoken to Carmen was...well, when she first awakened."

"That's just it, that should be the only time you can," Morgana explained, "the persona is part of you, it comes to you by accepting your rebel nature. Unless you lose sight of that, you and your persona should just be one in the same."

"His powers are very different from ours though," Haru pointed out, "can we assume that he follows the same-"

"They're DREAMS," Makoto slammed her fist into the table, "let's not go drawing conclusions based on Akira talking in his sleep of all things."

"Prez, doesn't matter if they're dreams or not, ya can't not believe that something's goin' on."

"She believes it Ryuji," Haru told him, meeting Makoto's angry glare head on, "she's just upset with herself for not noticing that something was wrong."

"I'm inclined to follow Makoto on this," Yusuke stated, "it doesn't feel like we have anything of substance, and without that, I don't think it's our place to interfere in Akira's life."

"Don't mean we can't pay him a little extra attention though," Ryuji offered, staring into the dregs of his cocoa, lost in thought.

Sitting up straight in her seat, Makoto cleared her throat, "we'll just have to keep our eyes peeled for anything that seems like Akira-" The doorbell rang again as two new figures strolled in. "-A-a-and that's, the goal for today, we all clear?"

"Awesome, ya got my message and even got everyone together already. You're the best Rider, are the troops ready to deploy?" Akira grinned, offering his second in command a mock salute. Makoto bit her lip, cursing herself for forgetting to check her phone at all. Glancing past Akira, she saw the Detective Prince trailing in behind him. Following her gaze, Akira jabbed a thumb in the detective's direction, "found him in a reed basket down by the river, poor dear, abandoned at the tender age of seventeen. I figure, we'll raise him as our own."

Akechi rolled his eyes, "are we prepared Niijima-san? The next train to Kasumigaseki is leaving in five minutes."

Knowing she couldn't speak her mind with the detective so close at hand, Makoto bared her teeth in an awkward grin, "yep, we're all ready."

"Oh, before we go anywhere," Akira rifled through his bag, walking over to present his old pistol to Futaba. The navigator's eyes lit up as she took hold of the weapon with unsteady hands. "I think it's past time that you were able to defend yourself. Yoink," breezing past the table, he grabbed Morgana by the scruff of the neck, quickly depositing the cat into his newly emptied bag before addressing the team. "Alright Phantoms, let's go steal a heart."

...

Hey everybody, hope the day finds you all well. I'm back, sorta, I dunno at this point. There's a lot I wanna talk about on this one but I'll try to keep it concise.

This chapter's a bit of a mess, but I had to post it because, to me it's a wonderful mess that I wouldn't want to fix. I'd finally gotten through most of the important documents I lost last month, and had started back to working on the chapters I'd lost, when I had a death in the family. The resulting chapter came from several long days cooped up for ten hours a day in a hospital waiting room with family, which involved a lot of crying, a lot of laughing, and a lot of reminiscing. So this whole chapter sprang from that need to be serious for those who were broken up over it, and to be happy in the face of tragedy.

On a brighter note, Safie. Including an OC was something that I was off and on about for quite a while, on one hand the idea doesn't appeal to me, I prefer to expand on source material rather than tack things onto it, while on the other I really enjoyed the character as I'd written her. As time went on, I came up with more and more ideas for her and realized that by including her, I could expand on Akechi's powers, since the game tries to just dismiss them as "yeah, I just sorta got them one day, maybe it was God, maybe it was a devil, but I got 'em." So through this I figured I could build up Akechi into a big part of the story.

There's been a bit of confusion on my end note for chapter 2 regarding the date chapters, basically, I wanna turn the story proper into something of a bare bones choose-your-own-adventure, four paths for the story focusing on Akira accompanied by each of the Phantom Thief girls as his leading ladies. The idea is that at the end of 'A New Palace', I'd put up a poll and ask the comments which of the girls they like my portrayal of the most, and I'd write their path first, I'm not sure how far the idea will go, but there you have it. On that note, because the rest of the date chapters are stuck in the ether, I'm going to be moving chapters 2 and 3 in the coming days into a separate story that'll be called "Joker's Leading Ladies".

Alright, with all that out of the way, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, I can't promise anything of a release schedule moving forward because I know I won't be able to keep to it. That said, moving forward there's gonna be two chapters of the Phantom Thieves tearing their way through a re-imagined Niijima Casino, plenty of action, which I haven't really had any thus far, and just from what I have so far, I can't wait for you all to read it. As always, thank you all for taking the time to read through my beloved waste of time, and if you could take the time to leave your thoughts on it, I'd be absolutely delighted. Until next time, take care.