Chapter Text
Friday, October 21st, Evening
“Hmm? Well, I can’t talk to them. It’s one of the terms of my probation.”
Futaba has to have heard him wrong.
“Wha- Akira-kun, what is that supposed to mean?!”
Ok, so maybe she hasn’t heard him wrong.
…what the fuck.
“Huh? Just that, Akechi. I can’t speak to any family members, or anyone from Inaba.”
Akechi looks about ready to explode.
Futaba’s pretty sure she’s not that different.
“There was nothing about this in your record.”
Akira grins like a Cheshire cat, “Oh, you looking up my record now, huh detective? Didn’t know you were that interested in me.”
Akechi reacts, predictably, by turning as red as a potato and immediately denying, but Futaba pays him no mind.
Normally, she would have said that Akira used flirting to deflect.
But…
He genuinely looks convinced of what he’s saying.
But Futaba knows Akechi’s right, she hacked into the police database and saw his record herself, and it said nothing about not being able to talk to anyone from Inaba.
There were no conditions on his parole.
And yet she doesn’t feel like Akira’s lying, and she prides herself in being able to read Akira.
Which raises a million questions.
But…well, she knows where to get them.
Futaba: Guys tomorrow we’re going to Akira’s Palace
Futaba: I won’t take no as an answer
Saturday, October 22nd, After School
Sumire is, to put it simply, confused.
They’re currently at the Palace entrance, discussing the situation before venturing into the Opera House
“So…you mean Senpai believes he has an actual relationship with his parents and the only reason they are currently not speaking to each other is because it was in the terms of his probation?”
“Which is bullshit! I hacked into the police records, it says nothing of the sort! Akechi, back me up here!”
Akechi sighs, but Sumire can see that he’s as irritated by the situation as Futaba, if only less hysteric about it.
(Well, Sumire has a sneaking suspicion he already got the hysterics out of his system before the meeting.)
“It’s true. There were no special terms on Kurusu Akira’s probation.”
Morgana hums, “This sounds like a change in cognition…”
Ann looks at him, and Morgana crosses his arms, a pensive look on his admittedly cartoonish features.
“It’s just a guess, we’ll know for sure when we go into the Palace, but I think that the reason for Akira’s change into perspective is due to a shift in his cognition.”
Niijima, who is standing next to Haru, seems to consider Morgana’s words carefully, “So…you think he’s somehow convinced himself of that fact? And that it’ll reflect in his palace?”
“That would be correct, Queen. So we should stop wasting time and just go to the Palace.”
Idly, Sumire wonders if her own delusions as Kasumi would have reflected in a hypothetical Palace, should she have had one.
No need to indulge in what ifs, violette.
With a sigh, Ann pulls out her phone, and at everyone’s nod she taps on the -only, according to Futaba- Safe Room icon, and they’re teleported there in an instant.
Silly Metaverse logic, really.
(The same silly logic that allows her to move flawlessly even in high heels, so she can't really complain.)
“So, Oracle,” Ann starts, “Where to next?”
The girl frowns, “I’d say the next logical step would be to go down. If you remember there’s a door in between the two rooms we saw last time, the one that wasn’t labeled. I’d say that one, since our only other option is the big door in the entry hall, but it’s locked, so…”
Ann nods, and with that they all move out.
Sumire doesn’t miss the way that they all immediately take on their ‘places’ in the group.
Ann is at the front with Morgana, closely followed by Haru and Niijima, then there’s Futaba, Akechi and herself, and then Ryuji and Yusuke at the back.
She looks at the teenage detective next to her and decides to bite the bullet. Anyone with eyes can see how much this is eating at him, so maybe he’ll be more willing to talk?
(She doesn’t point out, not even to herself, that despite his grumbling Akechi has always been kind to her, compared to his passive aggressive rudeness towards the others. Not to mention the way he’d always answer her questions, back when it was just them.)
“Crow-san.”
The older boy hums, letting her know he’s listening, so she continues, “Do you know when Senpai started thinking like this? Was it…triggered by something in particular?”
Like how I started thinking I was Kasumi after seeing her die , she doesn’t say, but she knows he understands anyway.
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out…logically, something must have triggered this so called ‘change in cognition’, as Mona put it. But…when I saw him Thursday evening he seemed…relatively okay. Paler than usual, yes, but still, in the norm for Akira. So whatever happened must have either been in the making and we- I’d missed it, or it must have happened yesterday, on Friday. Both hypotheses are likely. After all, it’s not like I know Akira that well.”
Sumire frowns at that, but before she can say anything Futaba beats her to it.
“One, you’re his basically boyfriend. Out of everyone here, you’re probably the second person who knows him best. And if his sister, that would be me, hi, didn’t notice anything in the past few days, then I think it’s safe to assume that it must have happened yesterday.”
Then, she falls silent, looking like she’s mulling over something.
“Guys, your tickets.”
Ann’s voice puts a stop to their conversation, and Sumire notices that there’s another one of the staff-Shadows, as they’ve started to call them.
Quickly, she takes out her ticker and hands it to Ann, who gives all of their tickets to the Shadow.
“It seems you are all eligible to visit La Salle d’Audience . In that case, go on ahead.”
Akechi’s eyes widen, and he turns to look at her, so Sumire answers before he can ask, “Courtroom. Downstairs there’s a courtroom.”
(Kasumi had never learned French. She didn’t get it, claimed the grammar was too difficult and said that as long as she knows English she’ll be fine. Sumire actually liked it. She remembers that the first book she’d read in the language was, ironically, or perhaps fittingly, Cendrillon .)
Futaba shifts her weight from one foot to the other, “Do…do you think we’ll see…the trial?”
Akechi doesn’t answer.
He doesn’t need to, anyway.
It seems the others have also heard them, because they all fall silent.
Even Niijima seems to be hesitant.
It’s Morgana who eventually breaks the silence, “Come on guys. We need to get to the bottom of this. For Akira.”
That seems to put Ann back into motion, since she clears her throat and stands up straight.
(Sumire’s been really interested in reading up the mythos and stories behind everyone of their Personas. And Carmen, a symbol of the femme fatale archetype, perfectly fits Panther. But there are times when Panther is more Takamaki Ann, and Sumire has to wonder if maybe Ann feels the pressure of her role as their pseudo-leader.)
“Come on guys. Here’s your tickets.”
She hands them back to each one of them, and that’s when Sumire looks at hers and notices something different.
“Crow-san?”
The rest of the group have all moved forward, her, Akechi and Futaba being the last in line as the Staff Shadow quietly disappears in a puff of smoke.
“Yes?”
“My ticket. It’s different. It…it used to be rank 5, but now it’s at rank 6…”
Akechi hums, pulling out his own ticket to look at it, “Mine hasn’t changed though…”
Futaba hums, “What if it’s like some video game stat?”
Sumire tilts her head, confused, “What do you mean?”
“Like, the rank is some sort of stat…maybe kind of like how close each of us is to Akira? Would explain why Queen’s has no rank, while mine is the highest, followed by Noir’s and you two’s…”
Akechi’s eyes widen, “That…actually makes sense…”
So…that means that she and Senpai recently grew closer?
…they did have a pretty important conversation when she realized her true identity.
Akechi clears his throat, “Either way, we should get going. The others are waiting.”
And so, the three of them descend down, towards the so-called Salle d’Audience .
>>>---<<<
As soon as Ann pushes the door open, Makoto recognizes the room and setting for what it is.
A courtroom, with a juvenile court hearing in full swing.
“...Aki-chan!”
Haru’s gasp immediately draws everyone’s attention to the slightly younger Kurusu that is sitting between his parents in front of those she recognizes to be the ones who would decide the boy’s fate.
“A juvenile court hearing…I see…”
Akechi’s muttering is easy enough to dismiss, especially when Makoto’s attention is immediately drawn to the judge who slams his gavel down.
“I think I’ve heard enough. Thank you, Yamamoto-san.”
A man glances at Kurusu hesitantly before sighing and turning back to the judge, “Yes, of course Your Honor.”
The judge clears his throat, and Makoto has a bad feeling about him.
“I think it’s about time I declared a verdict, this trial has gone on for much longer than it should have. This court finds Kurusu Akira guilty of assault. Given that he is aged fifteen, and taking into consideration the results of the family court investigating officer, Kurusu Akira will be given a one year probation time starting tomorrow, February 28th, 2016 and ending on March 1st 2017. Should he do anything during this one year time, he will be sent to Juvenile Hall. Any objections?”
Makoto doesn’t really look at the judge or the secretaries or at anyone else.
Rather, for some reason, her attention is drawn to Kurusu Akira himself.
And to the distraught look on his face.
“Your Honor, please reconsider? A one year probation is not necessary.”
Everyone’s attention is suddenly brought to the woman Makoto recognizes as Kurusu Fumiko, Kurusu’s mother, except what she just said doesn’t make any sense.
Not with the Kurusu Fumiko they’ve seen so far.
Kurusu Fumiko is cold and uncaring of her son, who she only had for convenience.
She would not ask a judge to please reconsider.
“I must agree with my wife. Your Honor, Akira has never done anything wrong. I think probation is excessive.”
If the mother is out of character, then the Kurusu Hideo in front of them and the one they’ve seen before are two completely different people.
For starters, Kurusu’s father never called him by name in the other two rooms.
It was always ‘boy’ .
Yet now he was trying to convince the judge to not give his son probation time?
It…it just didn’t make sense.
“This…this isn’t how the trial went.”
Futaba, who is standing next to Yoshizawa and Akechi, seems almost unnerved by what she’s seeing.
Makoto turns to look at her, “What do you mean?”
The girl frowns, “I…I watched the trial. This…it didn’t happen. His parents never protested the decision to give him probation time. Actually, they immediately asked if it was possible for him to spend his year outside of Inaba…”
That…
God, that’s awful .
To have his own parents do that, it…
“Oracle. You said you watched the trial. Knowing you, you also managed to get the footage of the so-called assault, am I mistaken?”
Akechi keeps talking to Futaba, but Makoto stops at his choice of words.
So-called?
Sure, Kurusu seemed to be nice around most people, and judging from the memories they’ve seen here Makoto finds it kind of hard to believe that he would assault someone, but…
She also never thought Sae would fall as low as she did, and yet the evidence of her sister’s distorted heart stares at her every night when she checks the MetaNav, hoping beyond hope that somehow the name won’t get a hit this time.
And again, she always thought Ryuji was nothing more than a troublemaker, a delinquent who broke the rules out of spite because he was kicked out of the track team, but now she knows that Ryuji is nothing if not a kindhearted young man who constantly worries about his mother and who wishes he could help her more.
Just like Ann, who Makoto thought was a stuck up who blamed others, when in truth Ann blamed herself more than anyone else, and Makoto admired her for still being so strong for her friend.
…
It might do you good to rethink your stance here, and to reconsider your opinion of that young man. It is high time you started thinking for yourself and stopped letting others tell you what to think. Was that not your vow to me?
Makoto can’t bring herself to say anything in response.
>>>---<<<
Eventually, they all leave behind the arguing cognitions -it’s all a repeating loop of the same things anyway-, and make their way back up.
Morgana would rather die than admit that the staff shadow at the top of the stairs startled him.
(In his defense, he’s thinking. Because Futaba’s statement is stuck in his head, and he might be wrong, but…all of this could have to do with the fact that Akira is under the impression that he doesn’t talk with his parents because of his probation. He’s convinced of it, so the Palace is changing in response.)
“Welcome back! Dear guests, it seems you have watched all the shows we have available at the moment! We thank you kindly for your patronage! Given your status as V.I.P. guests, Our Star has decided to personally thank you. He’s waiting in front of the Théâtre! Please head there immediately, as all other areas are now off limits!”
The moment the shadow says that, it disappears, and Morgana can immediately feel the presence of very strong shadows in the other rooms, and one glance at both Futaba and Akechi confirms that they feel it as well.
(For some reason, the fact that Akechi possesses navigation abilities didn’t surprise him as much. Almost as if he already knew. As if someone had told him about it, in length. Which is ridiculous.)
Ann seems to understand with one look at them, “I…I think it’s for the best we do as it said. We don’t want to antagonize Akira-kun’s Shadow. Besides, we were going to go back to the Théâtre anyway, since the treasure is there, no?”
Treasure which they still have no idea how to access, by the way.
But hey, they’ve managed so far, they’ll figure something out?
Right?
Silently, they all make their way back to the main hall.
And just as they were told, they find Akira’s Shadow waiting for them in front of the Théâtre.
“There you are, mes chers voleurs!”
The Shadow’s golden eyes go over each one of them, just like they did that day in the Ballroom, and Morgana decides not to think too much on the way the Ruler’s gaze seems to linger on Akechi longer.
He’s long since learned to not think about Akechi and Akira’s freaky love life.
(For some reason, the exasperation that accompanies the statement is one he feels can’t stem from a few months. And yet…)
“You have gone through the important parts of this Palace, and have seen ma moitié’s memories. Now, if memory serves, this is the part where you secure the route to the Treasure, correct?”
When it becomes apparent that the Shadow is waiting for an answer, Ann clears her throat, “Yes, that’s right.”
Shadows Akira’s eyes focus on Ann, humming to himself as he walks towards them, “Is that right…”
And Morgana can’t for the life of him understand this Shadow.
It’s obvious he’s strong.
Stronger than any of them, even Akechi and Sumire.
And yet, despite his behavior, Morgana can’t feel an ounce of ill will from him.
“Détective. Come here.”
They all watch with bated breath as Akechi hesitates for a second before walking up to the Shadow.
With a flick of his hand, Shadow Akira makes a golden key appear in front of their eyes.
A complicated expression crosses his features, almost sorrowful.
With a sigh, he hands the key to Akechi.
"Here you go, détective. This is the key to the Théâtre where the Treasure is. But I must warn you. Act fast. I can feel my half losing himself more and more with each second.”
Once Akechi nodded in response, the Shadow disappeared without any of his usual flair or theatrics.
Silent, Akechi glances at the key in his hand, before turning towards the big door, behind which Morgana is sure the treasure is.
Idly, he wonders what would be Akira’s treasure.
A Palace born out of a feeling akin to hatred towards oneself…it’s hard to imagine what the treasure would be.
Akechi inserts the key in the lock, and they all watch with bated breath as he turns it and only breathe again when they hear the telling click.
Pocketing the key, Akechi pushes the doors open, and Morgana is left speechless.
Akira’s Palace has never disappointed, really.
It’s grand, magnificent, every bit reflected in the pompous showman flair that Shadow Akira had to him.
The Théâtre de la Performance Sans Fin lives up to the expectations one would have of the Treasure Room of a Palace based on an Opera House.
There are many rows of red cushioned seats, all facing towards the stage.
The stage with a lone guillotine on it.
And yet…
Ryuji voices what he’s pretty sure everyone is thinking, “Mona? Where’s the treasure?”
Hesitant, and glancing at both Futaba and Akechi, Morgana answers, “It’s here. But at the same time it isn’t?”
Futaba hums, “Yeah, these readings are weird. It’s almost like…the Treasure isn’t here…yet? I don’t know if that makes sense?”
Akechi says nothing, but judging from his lack of protest and thoughtful expression as he stares at the guillotine, it’s clear that he’s sensing the same thing.
Ann sighs, “Nothing to be done about that. We’ve secured our route, now we just need to send the calling card. Who…who’s going to write it?”
“I will.”
Nobody is surprised that it’s Futaba who speaks up.
Just like it was fitting for Ryuji to write Kamoshida’s, for Yusuke to write Madarame’s and for Haru to write her father’s, it makes sense that Futaba is the one to write Akira’s.
“We’ll leave it to you then, Oracle.”
Monday, October 24th, Evening
Goro doesn’t really know what to expect.
Last time they were here, he’d felt the very strong Shadows roaming around.
He could take them, sure, but that didn’t mean he wanted to.
Loki, strangely enough, seemed to agree.
Besides, Goro’s here for a specific reason.
He has something to do, and he has to do it alone and before the calling card is sent.
So, allowing Robin Hood to guide him, he makes his way through the Palace.
They make their way to the entryway, and Goro can’t help but glance at the big doors to the Théâtre.
He’s not there, boy. Keep going.
Nodding to himself, Goro goes up towards the ballroom.
Just like the last time he was here alone, Goro makes his way through the now empty room and towards the door to the gardens.
(Now that he thinks about it, the ballroom being empty is yet another sign of Akira’s growing belief that his parents are not absolute scumbags. The ballroom had been all about them, after all.)
And just like last time, he finds Shadow Akira in front of the fountain.
“Détective. Welcome back.”
It reminds Goro of his earlier exchange with Akira, and he immediately rids himself of the memory of himself basically flirting with Akira.
“I see you’ve come alone.”
Loki seems to be particularly interested in the Palace Ruler in front of them, and Goro has no idea what to make of his Persona’s interest in both Akira and his counterpart.
The Shadow turns around, now looking at Goro as he speaks, “Why?”
“I need to talk to you. Is last time’s offer still standing?”
The Shadow grins, “Which one?”
Goro huffs, “You haven’t made me many offers, I think you know the one.”
“I beg to differ. I quite literally offered you the key to this place’s most important room, last time, have I not?”
He…did, didn’t he?
Before Goro could come up with a response, the Shadow laughed, “I was merely teasing. Of course I know which offer you are talking about.”
Wanting to regain control of the conversation, Goro immediately speaks up, “Last time I only got to ask one question. You said you’d answer all of my questions.”
Golden eyes widen, blinking in surprise for a second before the Shadow catches himself and throws his head back in laughter.
If Goro had to describe it, he’d call it a showman’s laugh.
Privately, he thinks he doesn’t like it too much.
He prefers the way Akira would snort when caught off guard by something that truly makes him laugh.
(I much prefer his feral laughter, myself.)
“Oh how you intrigue me, détective. Some things truly never change, huh? Very well then, I’ll indulge you.”
With that, he starts walking, “Come along. Might as well take a walk around these gardens, non?”
There are no Shadows around, if that’s what you’re thinking
Goro scoffs.
He catches up with the Shadow, and after a few seconds he clears his throat.
“Do you know what’s going on? With Akira, I mean?”
A hum, as if the Shadow is thinking his words over carefully.
“To a certain extent. But…me and my dear half have come at odds with one another. I haven’t been able to talk to him for quite some time now.”
Talk?
Well, isn’t that intriguing.
Robin Hood hums, as if Shadow Akira’s statement makes complete sense, and Loki seems to catch onto Goro’s annoyance at being left in the dark, if the bark of laughter he lets out is anything to go by.
The cackle echoes in his mind, along with the words of his other self.
“Personas and Shadows are one in the same. Shadow Selves are what humans reject as a part of themselves. When a person accepts what their Shadow counterpart represents, they can manifest a Persona, should they have the potential.”
Which is something Goro knew already.
He’d read it in the notes about Persona research that he has no idea how Shido got and that were only signed I.S.
And then it clicks.
“You mean Akira should have had a Persona.”
The Shadow’s eyes widen, and Loki huffs satisfied.
“I should have expected this of you, détective. Yes, you’re correct. But after a…” he trails off, looking almost uncertain.
Which Goro thinks is an odd look on Akira’s face.
“My half rejected, so to speak, a fundamental part of himself.”
The Shadow falls silent, so Goro asks, “What about this change in cognition?”
Instead of answering, the Shadow stops and looks at him, golden eyes boring into his own.
For some reason, it doesn’t make him uncomfortable.
It holds the same intensity as Akira’s own steely gaze.
So, Goro doesn’t look away, instead waiting for the Shadow to find whatever it is he’s looking for.
(Unfortunately, he’s also hyper aware of the way Loki seems to bask in the Shadow’s attention.)
Eventually, Shadow Akira looks away with a sigh, “That’s something I can’t say détective, even to you. You’ll figure it out in due time. What I can tell you though is that this isn’t my doing or the doing of my dear half. Someone has done this to him.”
Well, that’s kinda useless, isn't it?
Not exactly. Now you know that our Marian is under the influence of someone.
Robin’s words seem to annoy Loki, for some reason.
Ignoring the two of them, Goro turns his attention to Akira’s Shadow.
“I see,” he stops, then decides screw it, he might as well ask, “I’ve been wondering about something else, actually.”
“Ask away, then.”
Goro does so before he can talk himself out of this, “Why? Why does Akira…care about me so much? Why do you…seem so interested in me?”
The Shadow’s expression softens, and his smile is a small one, of honey and ash, leaving an odd taste in Goro’s mouth.
“You’re his Clarisse. That’s why.”
And he says it as if it explains everything.
( “HA! That’s new! Never heard him call us that!
Calm yourself.” )
Tuesday, October 25th, After School
Ann <3: Me and Akira are waiting for you by the gate!
With a huff, Shiho reaches Shujin Academy’s gates, and, just as her message said, she spots Ann’s blonde hair and Akira’s mop of curls.
Ignoring Akira, Shiho’s eyes focus on Ann.
Ann who has her hair down, out of its usual ponytails.
Damn, she looks good.
And if the way Akira’s smirking at her, it seems he knows exactly what she’s thinking.
Well screw him, he’s not any better about his crush on the detective.
“Hey Shiho!”
Smiling at the two of them, Shiho takes Ann’s hand in her own, “Come on, let’s walk around the stalls you two.”
And that’s just what they do.
After all, Shiho is leaving in two days, and this will be the last time she can spend time with them for a while.
So, they spend most of their afternoon walking around, occasionally stopping when Shiho feels her legs turn into jelly.
In the end, they find themselves on the roof.
(Shiho had struggled up the first flight of stairs, but she gave in and Akira carried her up on his back.)
“Sorry Akira. I’m pretty heavy, aren’t I?”
She walks over to the now fenced edge of the roof, and she’s aware of Akira and Ann’s gazes on her every movement.
“To be honest…I wanted to reenact that moment. Wearing these clothes, standing here again…I wanted to know what it would feel like.”
She hears Ann take a small step towards her, while Akira remains rooted in place.
“What about back then? What were you thinking?”
“I…I didn’t want to die.”
There are tears in her eyes, as she says this.
As she admits this not only to two of the people dearest to her, but to herself as well.
After all, how could she want to die?
She still wants to spend time with Ann, she still wants to spend time with her parents, she still wants to play volleyball, she-
“I just needed to escape. It was like another person inside of me was screaming, telling me to come up here…almost as if that person was trying to kill me.”
She hears Ann inhale sharply, so she turns to look at them.
“But…I know now that person was part of me as well. My weakness. I came up here, because I wanted to see if she would show up again now.”
Akira looks up at her, and the damn glasses hide his eyes from her, “And?”
He sounds almost scared to ask.
Shiho can’t blame him, when she herself had been terrified of coming up here.
Afraid of finding out that her weakself was still there.
But, “She doesn’t exist anymore.”
“You’re so strong, Shiho.”
Both her and Akira turn to look at Ann, “You’re standing here because you worked so hard on your rehab…”
Shiho immediately shakes her head, “I’m here, Ann, because neither you nor Akira let me give up. It’s all thanks to you, Ann.”
“Me?”
Ann takes a step towards her, and Shiho takes a small one closer as well, “Because I saw how hard you were trying, too. Trying to be strong, to be cool…wanting to be an action star, striving to be a better model. You were so positive, your eyes sparkled with motivation. With you putting that much effort in, I couldn’t just let my life go to waste in a hospital bed.”
Not if she wanted to be able to stand next to Ann, anyway.
“I wanted to stand again because of you. Being able to change others, that’s what true strength is.”
“Shiho…” Ann looks down, her hair falling around her, but Shiho doesn’t need to see to tell that she’s about to cry, “I’m not strong. I’m nothing without you, I’m just a lonely, scared girl.”
“Ann…I’m really sorry about transferring schools.”
“Shiho…” When Ann looks up, there are still tears in her eyes, but they’re also burning bright with motivation, “I’m going to become a real model. And I’m going to give it my all, so you can keep giving it your all too! I’m gonna be in a bunch of magazines, and say lots of cool stuff in interviews, so…so…stay healthy. And work hard, but not too much. And keep in touch. Just…please, just take care of yourself!”
She turns away, clearly trying to keep from crying, and Shiho moves before she’s even realized it, moving to hug Ann.
She loves this girl.
With all that is left of her broken self, Suzui Shiho loves Takamaki Ann.
“Ann…I love you. And once I can smile again from the bottom of my heart, I’ll come visit, and tell you again.”
Ann falls silent for a moment, before returning the hug and squeezing as hard as she can, “You better keep that promise. I’ll hold you to it, Shiho.”
She’s not ready yet.
Shiho knows that.
But this is good enough for now.
A promise, between the two of them.
(They stay there in silence for a little while, until her phone rings and her mother tells her that she’s here to pick her up. Akira carries her down while Ann stays behind on the roof.
“I’m glad you finally told her.”
Thank you, Akira. So, so much. For everything. And I’m sorry I couldn’t help you as much as you helped me.”
“Just take care of yourself, Shiho.”
“I will. So I can visit again soon, and if by then you haven’t told your detective-”
“Oh would you look at that, isn’t that your mom right there! Come on, let’s not keep her waiting.”)
Wednesday, October 26th, Evening
Akira wants the words to change.
He wants them to disappear.
But no matter how much he wills it, the black and red card remains unchanged.
Despite himself, he reads them again.
“To Kurusu Akira, the lonely child.
For too long you have buried yourself beneath feelings of inadequacy, allowing others to dictate your worth.
You have become your own worst enemy, imprisoned in a Thèâtre built on fears and insecurities.
We, the Phantom Thieves, see the truth you’ve blinded yourself to, and we are coming to steal away the self loathing that keeps you shackled to your pain.
Prepare yourself, Kurusu Akira, for we will put an end to the endless performance you’ve trapped yourself into.
-The Phantom Thieves of Hearts”
The card, sitting innocently on his bed, almost makes him panic.
And yet…
A part of him, one that feels just like the voice that used to be in his head but that he hasn’t heard since his breakdown in Maruki’s office, is telling him that this is good.
That this has been a long time coming.
A sudden noise outside his window startles him, and Akira just barely manages to catch a glimpse of Morgana.
The instinct to follow after the cat is unnecessary.
He’s already stumbling out the door, Sojiro’s voice telling him to please eat, he hasn’t eaten at all these past few days, barely registering in his ears as he runs after Morgana.
>>>---<<<
The moment they step into the Metaverse, Futaba is overwhelmed by the sheer strength she feels coming in waves from the Palace.
Almost as if Akira is making a last ditch effort to keep them out.
Well, too bad brother dear.
Necronomicon a comforting presence in her mind, she turns to look at Ann.
“The security level is through the roof. I can tell there are hordes of really strong Shadows.”
Ann hums, her expression serious in thought, “Going to the Safe Room doesn’t make sense. It’d take less to go through the main doors.”
Akechi looks like he’s about to say something, but he’s interrupted by a loud announcement coming from the Opera House.
“Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the biggest trial of the century! Come take a front row seat as justice shall finally be served! Come one, come all, to the trial of our very own unwanted c̵̡̭̳͉͈̟͂̆́̃̍̉̚ḩ̵͔̆̊ḭ̸̢̛̻͛̒͌̉̐̅̊͜͠͝ͅl̸̡͙̮̣̟͈̝̊̄́ͅd̷̺̝͉̾̊̈̎̈͌̓, Kurusu Akira!”
They all look at each other in concern, and Futaba knows by the way Akechi’s eyes widen that he’s felt it too.
“He’s here,” is what he says, “Akira’s here.”
Ann gasps, the expressions on Sumire and Haru’s faces draining of all color, and Futaba can’t blame them because she herself feels like she’s frozen.
Like a computer would, after a critical error.
Because Akira’s not supposed to be here, in the Treasure Room of his own Palace.