All information looks like noise until you break the code.

- Neal Stephenson, Snow Crash

5/6

Akira flips the business card over his middle finger, rolling it along his knuckles. An aggressive but otherwise welcome gust of wind jars the card loose and threatens to carry it off, but Akira manages to snatch it out of the air and, embarrassed, slides it back into his pocket.

"Geez," Ann says. She sits atop the roof's A/C unit, legs kicking idly, a frown on her face. If she saw Akira's near loss of a lead, she doesn't mention it. "Dozens of kids?"

Ryuji nods without looking up from his phone, his thumbs manic across the screen. "That's what Nakanohara said. This Madarame asshole takes em in, 'tutors' them, and just plagiarizes whatever they make. Then they're back out on the street."

"That's..." Ann trails off, trying to find the words. After a moment, all she can settle on is, "Wow."

"Yeah, no kidding."

It is their first day back to school, lunchtime, and the day is overcast, muggy, and oppressive. Akira tugs at the collar of his uniform and laments it does little to cool him off.

"But," Morgana says. "If this is true, then Madarame is the perfect target."

Ryuji grins. "Totally. I can see why Mishima wanted to keep his name off the PhanSite." He holds up his phone. "He's like, a huge deal."

Ann hops down, leans forward, and reads the text on Ryuji's phone. "So he's famous? I've never heard of him."

Ryuji rolls his eyes, his grin becoming self-satisfied. "That's cause you got no class."

Ann swings her hand to smack the back of his head, but Ryuji ducks, and darts away from her, laughing. "Like you do?" Ann snaps at his back.

"Nakanohara didn't even know about the other victims," Akira says, and pats the pocket holding the business card. "A reporter approached him and gave him 'vague' details."

"'Vague?'" Ann asks, turning to Akira.

"Nakanohara's words," Ryuji replies and says, "Ichiko Ohya," sounding out the name phonetically. "Dude told us if we wanted to know more, we need to contact her."

Morgana bobs his head in a nod. "But obviously, we can't just call her up and say, 'Hi, we're the Phantom Thieves. Wanna tell us about Madarame?' We need a plan." Morgana drifts towards the center of the group, absently rubbing himself against Akira's uniformed leg before rearing back on his hind legs and spreading his front paws in approximating a shrug. "One that doesn't expose us as Phantom Thieves."

Ann folds her arms across her chest. "Hold on. Isn't this premature and stuff? How do we even know Madarame has a Palace?"

"Oh," Ryuji says, swiping his fingers across his phone. "He's got a Palace. Check it." He holds up his screen. Sure enough, within the Nav app, a new menu item has appeared beneath the name 'Suguru Kamoshida.' It reads 'Ichiryusai Madarame.' "It's the first thing Akira and me checked once Nakanohara left. 'Match Found' and everything. We just need some digging for the rest of the keywords."

"You guys stumbled across the location and distortion of Kamoshida's Palace," Ann says, smiling and turning to Akira. "Is it too much to hope that Ryuji just crashes his way inside again?"

Akira laughs as Ryuji protests with a loud, "Hey!" but then shakes his head. "We don't need the distortion for Madarame's Palace. We only need the location."

The three other thieves turn to look at him, with Morgana's head snapping around in a way he seemed to think was undignified after the fact.

"Huh?" Ryuji asks. "What'd you mean?"

Akira nods toward Morgana. "All we need is the location of Madarame's Palace. Once we know where it is, Morgana can just pop in and report back on the distortion."

The silence elongates until a dry wind stirs the group, and Morgana says, "Okay...well, I mean, yeah. I guess. I didn't know Kamoshida's distortion either. I just knew there was a Palace at the school, and I entered the Metaverse. That's when I saw his Palace was a Castle."

"Yeah, but," Ryuji replies, pointing at his phone. "There's a whole spot for it here."

"The app requires all the keywords to take us to the Metaverse. But Morgana doesn't need the app to travel there. The app was - presumably - designed and given to us by Igor. And Igor doesn't know about Morgana."

I think.

Ann's face defaults into a pout. "Um, I'm confused."

Akira tries to put his words together. "It's not clear what Igor knows," he says after a moment. "He's always vague and talks in circles. I met Ryuji and Morgana at roughly the same time, but Igor has only ever referred to you, Ryuji. He knew when we stopped Kamoshida, but didn't reference anything specific. He's hinted he can read my mind, but when I mentioned Morgana out loud, he seemed to have no idea who I was talking about." Akira shrugs. "Igor gave us the app to access Palaces, but why would he require us to find the distortion if one of our team members could just go in and out of any Palace they wanted without it?

"And believe me," Akira says, holding up a hand when he sees Ann's mouth opening. "I realize this brings up many new questions about him. But. If all we need is the location of Madarame's Palace, and Morgana can fill in the blanks, why not do it?"

Ryuji shoves his hands in his pockets. "Kinda feels like cheating."

"We are thieves," Morgana points out. "We should exploit what we can."

"Exactly," Akira says. He glances at Ann. "Sorry, Ann. Go ahead."

Ann's brows crease and worry etches itself across her features. "Okay, I get it. That's an awesome advantage. But Akira, are you sure you should be trusting this Igor guy?"

A smirk splits Akira's face, but he manages to stifle the laugh that wants to erupt from him. "Hell no, I don't trust him," he says. "Sure, merging Personae will be handy, but I'd give that up for some answers. I'm preparing a list of things to ask Igor the next time I visit the Velvet Room. Once I finish, I'll run it by you guys, and we can add whatever. But beyond that? I'm planning on keeping the Velvet Room at arm's length. At least until we can learn more about it. Besides, Igor not knowing about Morgana does seem to prove something."

"What's that?" Morgana asks.

"That he's not some omnipotent god or anything. He doesn't know everything."

Ann has nothing to say about this, and Morgana is quiet. Only Ryuji thinks to say, "I'm all for stopping bad guys, but fighting gods isn't something I'm really up for, man. If you want to learn more about the Metaverse from Igor, go for it. But maybe watch your step?"

"I'll be careful," Akira promises. "As I said, if there's anything you want to ask, let me know. I'll put it on my list."

"I'm sure the mysterious, creepy guy with invisible monster sidekicks will appreciate you showing up with a 'To-Do' list," Ann points out. Akira can only shrug, a gesture quickly becoming muscle memorized.

Morgana clears his throat with sounds more like a purr. "Well, this is all great and stuff, but don't forget that my memory is hazy up until I met you guys. I'll try to infiltrate Madarame's Palace without us learning the keywords first, but I can't guarantee it'll work."

"That's alright," Akira says. "If it doesn't, we're no worse off than before. We still need the location of the Palace. Hopefully, this reporter can help us."

"How are you going to get in contact with her?" Ann asks.

"What're you gonna say to her?" Ryuji asks.

Akira smiles at his friends. "I'm still working on all that."

A throat clears. "Excuse me?"

Ann yelps and stiffens. Ryuji jumps with a yell.

Mishima stands in the roof's doorway, only his head poking out.

"Damn, dude," Ryuji shouts. "Stop doing that!"

Mishima dips his head and mumbles, "Sorry."

"It's alright," Akira says, sitting in one of the many strewn-about chairs scattered across the roof. "I asked him here." Morgana hops onto the cracked armrest beside Akira. "I wanted to talk to him about some stuff." He turns to face Ryuji and Ann. "Do you guys mind if it's in private?"

Ann blinks, but Ryuji stretches his arms overhead. "No sweat, bro. I'm dying out here anyway. We'll leave it to you." Mishima exits onto the roof proper, and Ryuji pats him on the shoulder as they pass one another. "C'mon Ann," Ryuji calls, before vanishing through the door.

"Everything good?" Ann asks.

Akira provides her with a smile and nods. "Yep."

"O-okay," Ann replies, but gives both boys a funny look before following Ryuji downstairs.

Mishima brightens a bit when both are gone. "I'm glad you asked me up here," he says. "I found something out about-"

Akira holds up his hand, and Mishima's mouth snaps shut. He had not expected the gesture to actually work and feels a short swell of pride at how easy it was to silence Mishima. Akira removes his phone from his pocket and queues up the PhanSite. "I wanted to talk to you about this," he says, turning the screen so Mishima can see. Akira forces a sheepish grin onto his face. "Honestly, I'm pretty inept at this stuff. I'm wondering how..." He trails off, pretending to search for the right word. "Safe? Yeah. I'm wondering how safe the site is?"

"Safe?" Mishima asks, cocking his head a bit.

"You're the admin," Akira replies, and gestures towards another chair on the roof. After a moment's hesitation, Mishima slides it over and takes a seat. "Is it safe? Secure? Would that be the better word?"

Mishima releases a deep breath and slumps a bit in the chair. "Oh man, you had me freaked out." He laughs without a hint of nervousness. "Don't worry. The site is totally secure." He begins to list a series of terms. Akira recognizes a few, but only in their context within some fiction he's read, and he's no idea what they mean in reality.

Anonymous email accounts. Linked to VPNs. Build on proxy servers. ODN redundancies built-in to minimize the-

Morgana glances at Akira. "Sounds like he knows what he's talking about."

Yeah, Akira thinks. But how would I know? He could be rattling off a bunch of made-up bullshit—a script from some sci-fi show.

So, what do you want to do? A voice in his head asks.

I've got no choice. I need to learn this crap.

Mishima's spiel ends, and Akira says, "You're good at this stuff, huh?"

Mishima blushes and nods. "I guess so. It's a hobby."

"Some hobby. How'd you learn so much about it?"

"I've been interested since I was a kid. The knowledge is out there. You just have to know how to apply it. Learn by doing, you know?"

"Have you built a lot of websites for criminal organizations?"

Mishima smiles. "Heh. No. I just mean that there are places online where you can experiment. That's all."

"So, I could learn it?"

Mishima sits up straighter. "Sure! You'd need a set-up, though. What do you have at your place?"

"What'd you mean?" Akira asks.

"Your computer," Mishima says, as if he were repeating something obvious. "What are its specs?" Akira tells Mishima that he does not presently own a computer, and Mishima blanches. "Are you joking?"

"No," Akira replies, slightly offended at the boy's shock. "I've got my phone."

First Ryuji's body stats, now Mishima's computer specs. It wasn't as if Akira were a Luddite.

Mishima sighs in a way Akira really doesn't appreciate. "That's a start, I guess. But a computer is better if you want to learn this stuff." Akira starts to reply, but Mishima cuts in. "Actually, this reminds me of what I wanted to talk to you about."

As Akira laments having lost control of the conversation, Mishima leans in, quite conspiratorially despite their being alone - sans Morgana. "I did a little digging on that stuff you were talking about yesterday."

Who told you to do any digging?

"What 'stuff?'" Akira asks.

"Remember? Ryuji mentioned that Yukio Kan guy. How all that black stuff came out of his eyes and mouth? The guy you saw-"

"Die," Akira snaps, and shoves the mental image away. "Yes, I remember. Thank you." He takes a moment and brings his breathing back down to normal. "I remember," he repeats and refocuses on Mishima. "Why were you looking into that?"

"Because of that black stuff. It reminded me of something." Mishima glances back at the door to the roof. It remains only slightly ajar. Seemingly satisfied, Mishima continues, "A few months ago, after the mental shutdowns started, there were a ton of posts about them. People near the shutdowns reported seeing all kinds of crazy stuff. A few people said they saw 'black ooze' leaking out of the victims."

The realization settles over Akira. "Are you saying you think Yukio Kan suffered a mental shutdown?" A mental shutdown reported as a heart attack.

Mishima nods, then shrugs. "Well, I mean, maybe. It's hard to trust anything you find on those boards. A few were on the deep web, which is pretty shady."

Akira feels his brows lift as he regards the boy. "You hang out on the deep web? Isn't that the place with all the drug sales? And, like, murder?"

Mishima giggles and rolls his eyes. "Man, you really are a noob. The deep web is really just a bunch of sites you can't access via your standard search engines or browsers. And by a bunch, I mean a bunch. Most people think it's all crazy drugs, weapons, and porn, and sure, there is that side of it, but there are all kinds of stuff there. I mostly hang out on the privacy boards, but there are some spooky supernatural sites too.

"That's where I read about the mental shutdowns. I didn't pay much attention. The ooze was only one of a couple of things people reported seeing. Others claim they saw aliens, the ghosts of children, human-sized crows, lots of nonsense."

Akira considers this, and when he glances at Morgana, he can tell the cat is doing the same. "Do you think...?" Morgana starts, trailing off. Akira nods slightly, not wanting to look to Mishima like he's talking to a cat. Perhaps there was a slim chance they could use this resource to find something on the Metaverse, or even on Igor and the Velvet Room. Not that Akira had any idea how to navigate it.

"What else did it say?" Akira asks. "About the mental shutdowns?"

"I didn't find anything recent," Mishima says with a shrug. "Which is kind of weird since the shutdowns are still happening. I just thought I'd let you know, since it seemed like a big deal to you guys."

Akira spends the next few minutes pressing Mishima on how someone like Akira might get access to these sites. Once Mishima begins his second technobabble list of the day, Akira waves away any further explanation. "Forget that. You say I can find this stuff in Akihabara?"

"Well, to get on the sites we're talking about, you'll need software."

"Right, right. Look, why don't you and I go to Akihabara together?"

"Seriously?" Mishima asks, looking delighted.

"I need someone who knows what they're doing," Akira replies, doing his best to ignore the sinking feeling in his guts. "And I need someone I can trust. I can trust you, right?"

"Absolutely," Mishima says, nodding vehemently.

"Once we've got the equipment, I'll need you to show me how to set it up and access those sites. Are you okay with that?" Again, Mishima nods. "Good. Listen, it's important that you stay quiet about this, yeah? No talking about it at school or texting about it. We talk about it in person, in private."

"Got it. Understood. No problem," Mishima says.

I started this conversation wanting to take over as admin of the PhanSite, Akira thinks.

And now you've got a playdate with Mishima, a voice in his head says.

It can't be helped. Ryuji and Ann don't know this technical stuff either. It's a gamble, but we need Mishima close to us for now.

Mishima says something else, but Akira's mind is drifting. Still, it's clear Kan didn't die of a heart attack. These mental shutdowns don't have anything to do with Madarame, but it can't hurt to learn as much as we can about them.

"Let's get back to the PhanSite," Akira says, cutting off Mishima. "I've got some ideas on how requests should work going forward." Keeping the details vague, he walks Mishima through what happened with Haru at Rafflesia and the plan's exposed flaws.

The Requests required layers for safety.

From now on, anyone with a Request had to post it on the PhanSite, but could not include the intended target's name.

After selecting a Request, the Phantom Thieves would send a private message to the poster, and only in response to that could the target's name be revealed.

Once the Phantom Thieves changed the target's heart, the original poster may make a follow-up post on the PhanSite, detailing the resolution.

However, all communication with the Phantom Thieves - messages, instructions, and whatnot - had to be kept vague or omitted entirely.

Anyone who posted their target's name on the site would find their Request rejected and deleted.

"This is to protect anonymity," Akira says. "You understand."

"Okay," Mishima says, eyes bright. "We can do that. I'll start planning that out and get to work implementing it." The boy pulls out his phone and checks the time. "Oh man, lunch is almost over. We should get back to class."

"Right," Akira says, standing. "One more thing, though." He leans towards Mishima and does his best to keep his voice neutral. "Don't pull what you did with Nakanohara, again."

Despite Akira's efforts, Mishima pales a bit. "R-right. Sorry."

Akira stifles a sigh and hesitantly raises his hand to pat Mishima on the shoulder, mirroring Ryuji's gesture from earlier. "But, thanks for all your help. We wouldn't even have the PhanSite without you, let alone a way of accepting Requests. So... yeah. Thank you."

Mishima beams.

#

"I dunno, man," Ryuji says, rubbing his head. "That stuff sounds like it's going to give me a headache."

After school, Akira and the other Thieves relocated to a small corner cafe in Shibuya, and a quiet table in the corner.

"Better a headache than handcuffs, right?" Akira asks.

"But all this tech stuff?" Ryuji asks. "I hate to break this to everyone, but that's not something any of us are good at."

"Which is why we need Mishima," Akira points out. Ann and Ryuji give him looks, and Akira replies, "Trust me, I'm not exactly thrilled. But until we understand how to run the PhanSite ourselves, we'll need his help. Plus, it'll be worth it if we can find information on the Metaverse or the Velvet Room."

"Not to mention this mental shutdown stuff," Morgana says.

Ryuji raises his hands in surrender. "Alright. Just don't expect us to become, I don't know, elite hackers or anything."

Ann rolls her eyes. "I don't think there's any danger of that."

Ryuji starts to frown at her, but shakes his head instead. "What's the game plan in the meantime?"

"We investigate Madarame," Morgana says. "Which means we'll need to reach out to that reporter discreetly."

"I've got an idea on how to do that," Akira says. "We've also got the Mementos Requests."

Ann pulls out her phone. "I haven't checked since Nakanohara. Any good ones?"

Ryuji clears his throat and sits a little straighter. "There's one I noticed. I recognized the name. There's a second-year named Minoru Maehara. He's claiming that Daisuke Takanashi is bullying him."

Akira narrows his eyes. "A second-year? You mean he's a Shujin student?"

"Well, yeah."

"A bully?" Morgana asks, frowning. "Isn't that a step backward? We took down Kamoshida and stopped a stalker. Is a bully such a huge deal?"

Ann taps to the appropriate screen. "Here it is. ‘Dear Phantom Thieves, My old friend Daisuke Takanashi is bullying me. He’s forcing me to give him money and the answers for tests. He’s not a bad guy, not really, but I don’t know how to get him back to the way he was. Please, Phantom Thieves, I know you guys are probably more concerned with jerks like Kamoshida, but it’d be great if you could help change his heart. Your fan, Minoru Maehara.’”

"Sounds serious," Ryuji says.

"Sounds small," Morgana replies.

Akira takes out his phone and queues up the Request. "If we keep changing the hearts of people at Shujin, that'll point to a clear connection between the school and us."

"But we can't just ignore it," Ryuji replies, not sounding desperate but starting to sound incensed. "He's asking for our help."

"Shujin aside," Morgana says, maneuvering himself to Akira's lap to read the phone's screen. "We have to be selective in what we choose to do. If we become bigger names in the future, the number of Requests will increase. We can't help everyone."

"But we can help Maehara," Ryuji points out. "We're not too big yet."

"Besides," Ann says, scrolling through her phone. "The rest of these Requests suck. I'm with Ryuji. If Maehara thinks the Phantom Thieves can help, shouldn't we try?"

Akira queues back to the list of public Requests and starts to scroll. Morgana follows along. The cat eventually capitulates. "Well... if there aren't any other good ones, then maybe we should." He glances up at Akira. "What'd you think?"

Akira thinks for a few moments. "If we're going to do this one, we need to make sure no one can trace it back to us." He shakes his head and puts his phone away. "Let's give that some thought, but we also need to tail Maehara and see if Takanashi's bullying him. The last thing we want is to change a heart for no reason."

Ryuji cracks his knuckles and smirks. "Time for some action!"

#

Akira steps out of the office. Sojiro stands from where he's presumably been sitting for the last forty-five minutes, stretches, and nods to Akira. The two walk out of the waiting area and into the night.

"Well?" Sojiro asks, once they're well away from the building. "How was it?"

Akira considers lying but sees no real reason to do so. "I didn't like it," he admits instead.

Sojiro frowns, but before he can say anything, Akira continues. "I tried. I did. But I didn't know where to start, and whenever I tried, she'd interrupt and start talking about guided meditation or some new book she co-authored that could help with teenage anxiety. I was involved in a train crash. I'm not stressed about, like, mid-terms or something."

The look on Sojiro's face softens as Akira speaks. "No luck then?" He asks once Akira finishes.

"I just didn't feel comfortable talking to her. That's the point, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't know," Sojiro says, quickly. Then, he clears his throat. "But, I imagine therapy isn't much good if you're not okay with the person you're talking to." Sojiro reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, his gaze falling to the sidewalk. "Guess I'll keep looking. Sorry it wasn't what you hoped it would be."

"It's fine," Akira says, and manages not to shrug. "I appreciate you trying."

The truth was, Akira had gone into the session with almost no expectations.

After concluding the meeting with the Phantom Thieves, Akira returned to LeBlanc intending to work on the problem of the Daisuke Takanashi operation. Only, when he'd stepped inside, Sojiro had bluntly reminded him that his first therapy session had been scheduled for that evening. So Akira had to deposit his bookbag and Morgana up in his room and scarf down some food before joining the older man outside. Akira had figured they'd drive, but Sojiro informed him the office was on the other side of Setagaya Park and could be reached with a brisk walk. Akira scolded himself for forgetting all this. Sojiro had told him that he'd made this appointment the other night, but it had seemed unimportant compared to everything else. So Akira had placed it out of his mind.

Having had no time to prepare, Akira found himself tongue-tied as he sat across from the middle-aged woman in the conservative jacket, an open notebook on her lap. Akira had tried to determine where best to begin, but the events of the last few months had become so cluttered in his mind that he didn't know which thread to pull on first. So - it seemed to Akira - the woman had filled the silence with her own prattle, and Akira sat in near silence for the entire session.

Akira wouldn't have even agreed to go to therapy if Sojiro and Takemi hadn't pushed. He understood the necessity - his stress levels had never been so high - but the idea of seeking a therapist felt like some box he had to check to move on with his life. At least now, when Takemi asked about his search, he could answer in the affirmative.

You fulfilled the obligation, a voice in his mind noted. You looked for a therapist. No one ever asked you to keep looking.

No, Akira thinks right back. I was supposed to talk to a therapist. And I didn't do much of that in there. Akira doubted Takemi would appreciate the distinction.

Sojiro didn't seem ready to give up either. Akira and the older man continued to shuffle their way back to LeBlanc. Akira let the thoughts of therapy fade from his mind. He still had work to do.

5/7

"God, would you hurry up?" Ann demands, fists on her hips. "You're taking forever!"

Ryuji tears his face away from his phone long enough to scowl at her. "I'm coming," he insists, returning to the screen. "Just give me a minute. Damn."

"We're going to lose Maehara if we don't keep moving," Morgana snaps from where he stands between the two. "Get the lead out, Bonehead!"

The three briskly stride towards the Aoyoma-Itchome train station. Saturday, after school, the three had snuck off after Maehara as the second-year departed Shujin.

"Why do we even need to do this?" Ryuji asks, gesturing towards Ann. "Couldn't Mona just follow him and find out?"

Ann groans. "Weren't you all psyched about 'action time' or whatever yesterday?"

"And what happens if Maehara goes indoors?" Morgana asks. "I can't just waltz in anywhere I like."

"You can't?" Ryuji asks.

"N-no," Morgana replies. "I could try sneaking in, but what if Maehara goes into a... I don't know, a dog place?"

Ryuji turns to face the cat. Ann stares at Morgana as well. "A 'dog place?'" Ann asks.

"It-it could happen," Morgana insists, casting glances between them.

"Fine, fine," Ryuji mutters. "Let me send my message, and we can make sure Maehara ain't going to any 'dog places.'"

"Shut up," Morgana hisses.

"Ryuji, come on," Ann demands, starting to march back towards the boy. "We're gonna lose him!"

Ann begins to reach for the phone, but Ryuji twists himself away and shoves the phone back into his pocket. "Okay. Okay!"

"Who're you even texting anyway?" Ann asks as they resume walking. "Is it Akira?"

"No," Ryuji replies, speeding up to put some distance between himself and Ann. "It was... never mind. It was no one."

"What?" Ann asks, a taunting grin breaking out over her face. "Was it your mom or something?" Ryuji's face reddens, and Ann's smile grows even more jeering. "Aww, is she checking up on you?"

"You're seriously texting your mom during an undercover operation?" Morgana asks, sounding disgusted.

"Undercover?" Ryuji asks, and jabs a finger at the sky. "We're in broad freakin' daylight. Just drop it, okay?" He peers ahead of the group, squinting. "Where'd Maehara go?"

Ann and Morgana snap their heads around, following Ryuji's gaze down the street. "Uh oh," Ann says.

"Nice going, Ryuji," Morgana hisses.

"Hey, I'm not the only one who was supposed to be keepin' an eye out!" The three power walk towards where they last saw Maehara and find themselves outside a small bookshop with an alley running off to their left.

"You guys see him?" Ann asks.

Morgana attempts to peer into the bookshop. "Did he go inside?"

"There," is all Ryuji says. Ann turns to find him pointing down the alley, his brow knotted and lip twitching into a snarl. She moves up next to him and peers into the dim alley, and sees the pudgy body of Maehara on the ground. Another boy in a Shujin uniform stands over him. It is apparent what is happening.

"Okay," Morgana says, joining them. "Looks like confirmation to me. Let's get out-" But Ryuji is storming down the alley before Morgana can complete his sentence. A shout of "Knock it off" rings out and draws a few eyes from nearby pedestrians, who promptly return to ignoring it all.

"Ryuji," Ann calls after him.

"Low profile," Morgana shouts. "Low profile!" The cat turns a pleading glance up to Ann. "Lady Ann, you need to go after him. I'll stay here, keep an eye out, and make sure no one else shows up. But we need to get him out of there!"

Ann begins to march down the alley as the other boy, whom she now recognizes as Daisuke Takanashi, turns towards Ryuji and grimaces. Ann tries on a scowl, but even as she walks, she's unsure which boy should be subject to it.

"What're you doing to him?" Ryuji asks, when he stops alongside the two.

Takanashi rolls his eyes. "Oh, piss off, Sakamoto. This is between us." He focuses on the boy on the ground. "Right, piggy?"

Maehara's eyes never venture higher than anyone's knees. "Y-yeah," he mumbles.

"See?" Takanashi asks, shrugging.

"Like hell." Ryuji takes a step forward, and Takanashi takes one back. The blonde boy positions himself between the two. "I saw you knock him down."

"It's his fault. I asked him nicely for the answers to the test he had a period ahead of me. The idiot gave me the wrong ones."

"B-but," Maehara protests. "I told you I'm not very good at history. I warned you yesterday!"

"Then you should've cheated off someone near you and then given me the answers, fatass!"

Maehara shudders, and nods as if he agreed he should've thought of that.

"Stop it," Ann says, finally finding her voice and herself among the boys. "Don't talk to him like that."

Takanashi looks at her. Then he looks her up and down. "Takamaki? Seriously? What're you doing here with this loser?"

Ann's eyes narrow. Crap, better think fast. We need an alibi. "We're on a date."

Takanashi blinks. Ryuji reddens.

"Really?" Takanashi asks.

"Yep," Ryuji bumbles out, back suddenly straight. "We are on a date. That is definitely what is happening right now."

Ann manages to not sigh at Ryuji's awful acting. And I thought I was terrible.

"Wow," Takanashi says. "You sure are easy, Takamaki. Kamoshida had the right idea. Maybe I should've asked Kurusu to help you score with me."

Ann opens her mouth to retort, but then something happens.

One minute, Takanashi leers at her, and the next, he is up against the alley's wall, his uniform lapels wrapped in Ryuji's fists. The snarl seems to have found its way onto Ryuji's face.

"Say that again," Ryuji says, his voice low. "Please."

"Ryuji," Ann says because she cannot think of anything else.

Ryuji looks back at her, and his expression loses some of its intensity. He lets Takanashi go. "Get lost, man."

Takanashi makes a show of dusting himself off as if he were never genuinely concerned. "Whatever, Sakamoto. You're all bark."

"Keep talking," Ryuji insists. "Seriously."

Takanashi shrugs and starts to walk off. "We'll settle up later, Piggy," he calls, and gives a lazy wave before he's down the alley and gone.

Ryuji takes a deep breath, and when he exhales it, his shoulders slump forward, and his posture creens to the side a bit. He turns to Maehara, who remains on the ground. "You okay, man?" He asks, and offers a hand.

"Huh?" Maehara asks, blinking. He stares down the alley as if expecting Takanashi to reappear. "Y-yeah. Thanks." He hesitantly reaches out and allows Ryuji to pull him up.

"Is he really forcing you to give him the answers?" Ann asks.

Once Maehara stands, he seems to shrivel up. "Well, it's not like I mind," he replies, a jovial look on his face that convinces no one. "But, I did tell him I suck at history." He shakes his head. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does," Ryuji insists. "That jerk is totally using you."

"I know," Maehara says. "But, we used to be friends when we were kids. He's not that smart, and he stinks at studying. I guess I figured I could help him out, and then..." He sighs. "Well, whatever. I appreciate what you did, Sakamoto. You too, Takamaki, but nothing's going to change." The corner of his mouth twitches at this, and he smiles. "Unless the Phantom Thieves change it."

Okay, time to leave, Ann thinks. Ryuji says nothing.

Maehara appears to take the silence as inquisitiveness because he perks up even more, glances past them down the alley, and gestures for the two to move closer. Ann remains still, but Ryuji takes him up on this. "Check it out," Maehara says, taking out his phone. "I put up a Request on the PhanSite." He shows them the screen, and Ann and Ryuji pretend to read the Request for the first time.

Maehara chuckles a bit once they've finished. "Honestly, I think it pissed off Daisuke even more. Normally, if I don't give him the right answers, he shoves me around, but I think someone must've told him about the Request. He seemed extra annoyed with me."

"Probably doesn't want any attention," Ryuji suggests with a shrug.

"Yeah," Maehara replies, sounding crestfallen once more. "Anyway, thanks for sticking up for me, guys. I should get going." He collects his bag from where it has fallen. "Man, Daisuke is really gonna give it to me tomorrow." He nods once more and slides past the two, beginning his trek out of the alley.

"Hey, Maehara," Ryuji calls out. The young man turns. Ann's eyes widen, and she opens her mouth to cut him off, but Ryuji just goes right ahead. "Don't worry, dude. The Phantom Thieves will definitely change Takanashi's heart."

Maehara blinks, then smiles. "I sure hope so!" He gives them a wave and resumes his walk.

Ann spins to Ryuji and begins to say, "What're you-" but he cuts her off.

"I know what you're gonna say, Ann." He looks at her then, a small smile on her face.

Ann stares at him, then sighs and takes out her phone. "Well, whatever. It's over and done. Since we've confirmed Takanashi is bullying Maehara, we don't have to follow either anymore." She queues up her message app and sends Akira a text.

ANN : All done. Are we still meeting up?

A few seconds later, the reply comes through.

AKIRA : I'm heading over now. Meet up in twenty minutes?

ANN : Sounds good.

Ann slides her phone back into her pocket. "Alright, let's go let Morgana know what's up. Then I've got to go meet with Akira."

Ryuji flexes his hands, shaking them out a bit. "Sounds good. Guess I'll start heading to gyms like he suggested."

Ann and Ryuji start heading out of the alley, where they spot Morgana waiting for them with a stern look on his face.

"Hey, Ryuji?" Ann asks.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for sticking up for me," she says, without looking at him. "When Takanashi said-"

"Pssh," Ryuji replies, blowing a raspberry. "You don't got to thank me for that. That douche was asking for it."

Ann glances over at Ryuji, but the blonde boy - intentional or oblivious - keeps staring ahead. Ann finds herself smiling and keeps walking alongside him.

#

Ann and Akira turn the corner of Central Street.

"So therapy was a bust, huh?" Ann asks.

Akira shrugs. "I'm sure she's a great therapist. Just not a good fit for me, you know?"

"Not sure there will be many therapists who specialize in," Ann gestures in grandiose circles with her hands, "whatever the hell we're all dealing with."

"Fair point."

Once Ann had arrived at Shibuya station, she'd brought Akira up to speed on the Takanashi operation. Akira had bit his lip when he heard about Ryuji charging the bully, and again when he'd heard Ryuji basically promise Maehara that the Phantom Thieves would change Takanashi's heart.

Ryuji really flip-flops on the subtlety, he thinks, recalling how well he'd performed getting the Calling Cards into Shujin.

"Well, I've only got one question," Ann says as the two come to a stop outside their destination.

"Go ahead."

"Why do I need to be here for this?" Ann asks, staring up at the sign for 'Untouchable.'

Akira smiles rather than sighs. "We all need alibis."

"I get that," Ann replies. "Couldn't I have just gone shopping?"

"Then you'd be no different from the hundreds of other schoolgirls kicking off their weekend. That's why Ryuji-"

"Is going around to different gyms and asking about their facilities, I know," Ann cuts in. "Couldn't I have just gone with him?"

"Sick of me?" Akira asks.

"Sick of him," Ann replies, gesturing towards the building.

Akira chuckles. "Look, we're here now. Let's go inside and see what happens."

"Fine. I'll let you do the talking."

"I'm honored," Akira says, pushing the door open.

A blast of cool air greets them as they step inside. Three sets of eyes turn towards them. Two belong to some young men, who look to be in their early twenties, standing together near one of the aisles, heads ducked together in conversation. They make no effort to hide their staring at Ann, who does not look pleased.

The third belongs to the grizzled man with the charcoal cap, reclining behind the register. "You're back," he mumbles.

Akira waits for him to say more. When he doesn't, Akira says, "We are."

The man removes his feet from the counter, and leans forward in his chair. "If you want your fake medal back, it's already gone."

Akira shakes his head and withdraws Nakanohara's picture frame from his bag. "I was looking to sell this."

The man holds out his hand, and Akira passes the frame over to him. "Okay," he grumbles and tosses it onto the counter. "I'll give you a thousand yen for it."

"A thousand?" Ann blurts. The two men in the back twitch at her outburst, the sudden increase in volume a violation. "That's crazy!"

"Do I look like a fuckin' pawnshop to you?" The man asks. "Despite what you think happens here, this is a legitimate business. You can't just haul your junk in here and expect me to offload it for you."

Akira gently places a hand on Ann's shoulder. "We're not really here for the picture frame."

"Don't care. You want the thousand yen or not?"

Akira straightens himself before the surly man and narrows his eyes. "We'll take it, but we were hoping you might have something else."

The man stares up at Akira, unfazed. "Oooh," he says. "Something. Else. Cut the bullshit and tell me what you want. I'm busy."

"Doesn't look like it," Ann mumbles.

The man looks to be preparing some undoubtedly biting remark, but Akira quickly interjects. "The last time we were here, you mentioned you had connections, and we were-"

The man jerks out of his chair. "Shut up."

Akira blinks. "What?"

"Not another word," the man snaps, and kneels beneath the counter.

"What's he doing?" Ann whispers. Akira isn't sure, so he can only shrug.

The man straightens up a moment later, a metallic gray, paddle-like object gripped in his hands. Another second passes, and he marches around from behind the counter. He positions himself before the two teens and without a word begins to pass the object over them, held only a few inches from their skin and clothes.

"What're you doing?" Ann demands, taking a step back. The man follows. "You pervert!"

"I told you, you're not my type," he replies. "Just stand still for a goddamn minute." The device passes over nearly every inch of their bodies, and at the lack of anything exciting, the man seems satisfied and moves back behind the counter. "You're not wired."

"Wired?" Akira asks.

"You come into my store, sell some shit, then come back a few days later and start with the weird questions? I didn't think you were simulcasting, but it never hurts to check."

"Wired?" Ann asks. "Like by the police?"

The man nods.

"We're not," Akira insists.

"Yeah, no shit," the man replies, patting the scanner before placing it back beneath the counter. "So, what do you want?"

After that strange ritual, Akira feels more exhausted than he has any right to be and tries to recapture what little poise he possessed earlier. "I need something. A device."

"Is this device a model gun? Because if not, I can't help you. You wanna try being more specific?"

"I need a device that would let me communicate with my friends without being tracked or recorded."

"So, a burner phone."

"Well, it would need to be something we could get on the cheap. Disposable. Preferably something I could get more of if I needed it."

"So, a burner phone."

"It wouldn't have to be a smartphone or anything. Just something simple I could use to make calls. I'd need a few."

"Kid," the man grunts. "You're talking about a burner phone."

Akira blinks and clears his throat. "Oh. Okay then."

The man makes a show of looking around his store, then raises his hands in a shrug. "And why would you come to me for a burner phone?"

"'Connections,' remember?"

He frowns. "Why not just go to a store? You can buy burners legitimately. They're just prepaid pieces of junk."

Akira has thought of a proper response to this but abandons it to say, "I'd rather not simply."

The man stares at him, then smirks. "I get it."

"Can I go through you for these or not?"

"How many?"

"Three, for starters."

"It'll cost."

"How much?"

The man cites a figure. Ann, from behind Akira, makes a kind of half-gasp, half-choking sound.

Akira frowns. "You said they'd be prepaid. How much would they be prepaid?"

The man quotes another figure. Ann makes the same noise, only louder.

Akira plays with the numbers in his head. Of course, this might mean he'd need to wait a little while before going to Akihabara with Mishima to grab computer parts. Still, the Phantom Thieves had an immediate need for a communication avenue. "Fine. That's good for now."

"For now?" The man asks, and chuckles. "Planning on getting into some shit, huh?"

Akira tries to smile, realizes he's probably overdoing it, and shrugs. "Do you need to know?"

The man barks out a laugh. "Suppose not. But. I don't like the idea of you walking out of here with a bunch of prepaid phones, so here's the deal. You'll have to buy some legitimate merchandise when you pick them up. I'll put the phones in the boxes."

Akira nods. "Deal."

The door chimes, and everyone stares at the young, bespectacled boy that hurriedly steps inside. Despite the heat outside, his uniform is buttoned up to his chin. "H-hey Dad," he squeaks.

"Kaouru," the man replies.

The boy nods at Akira and Ann, before making his way back behind the counter. "I'll, uh, be in the back, doing homework."

The man waves him away, and the boy closes the door behind him. He regards Akira and Ann for a few moments longer. "If I'm gonna do this for you," he finally says, as if reaching some conclusion. "I need to know you're trustworthy."

"Uh," Ann replies. "We are giving you a lot of money for those burners."

The man shrugs. "Consider this a test of your authenticity." He leans back in his chair. "Hey, Kaouru," he shouts.

There's a small commotion from the backroom, the sound of numerous boxes falling over, and the door opens, and the boy pokes his head out. "Y-yeah?"

"We still got that package back there?"

The boy stares at him, as if unsure, then blinks. "Oh. Uh, yeah. We do."

Ann leans in towards Akira and whispers, "Package?"

Akira shakes his head. He isn't quite sure where this is going either.

"Good, seal it up and bring it out here," the man replies. Kaouru looks both taken aback and confused, but he nods and disappears into the backroom again. "See," the man says, returning his gaze to the two. "I got this thing I'm responsible for, but I've got a few too many eyes on me at the moment. So, since I'm going through all this trouble for you, I need you to go through a small amount of trouble for me."

"What do you mean?" Akira asks.

Kaouru emerges from the back room, holding a small brown package sealed with black packing tape in his hands. He hands it to his father, who takes it, places it on the counter, and slides it over to the two.

"I mean," the man says. "I want you to hold onto this for a little while. If you do, I'll knock the price off those phones by half."

Akira stares at the box and turns to glance at Ann. She mouths the words, 'No way.' Akira looks back at the box and asks, "What's in it?"

"Come on. You think I'm gonna tell you that?" He glances at the door, then says, "And don't open it. I'm dead serious. I'll know."

Akira reaches out and picks up the box. As he does, he can feel something shift inside. Not something completely solid, but as if a weight were gradually moving from one end of the box to the other. It has an almost granular feel and-

Akira's eyes widen, and he looks back at the store owner. The man grins knowingly. "Your choice. I'd put it in your bag before you leave, though."

Ann begins to protest. "You can't expect us to-"

"Okay," Akira says. Hurriedly, as if afraid someone would see, he unzips his bag and shoves the package inside. "But if I get busted with this, I'm telling them exactly where it came from."

The man shrugs. "Do what you gotta do, I guess."

Akira frowns at him as he closes his bag. "You know, I never got your name."

"Right," the man says. "Like I'm about to give you that now." He reaches out a hand and taps a pile of fliers on his counter, advertising a new type of airsoft accessory. "It'll take me a few days to get the stuff. Once I do, I'll put this flier in the window. That'll be the signal that things are all clear. You can bring it back then."

There are no more words to exchange, and Akira and Ann make their way from the shop.

Ann whirls on Akira once they're outside. "Akira, what are you thinking?"

Akira takes a minute and puts his hand against an alley's wall. "We need those burners, Ann."

"So you agreed to, what? Traffic drugs?"

"Ssshhh!" Akira hisses, putting his finger to his lips. "Don't just announce it! Look, we don't know there are drugs in there."

"Oh, come on!"

"It'll be fine. We're not selling anything, not doing anything. I'm just going to keep this in my bag, and that'll be all. Then, we get the phones for a lot cheaper."

"And if you get caught?"

Akira shakes his head. "I'm not going to get caught. Let's just get out of here."

#

Kaouru stares out the blinds as the two teens turn the corner. "Dad?" He finally asks.

"Yeah?" The man asks, from behind the counter. He had gone back to reading his magazine.

"Why do you want them to hold onto a box full of sand?"

Munehisa Iwai just smiles.

#

Makoto sits at her desk.

The clock cuts away the evening minutes.

Makoto regards her college prep work. The equations run along the page until they congeal, becoming one long hieroglyph of numbers and formulas she can no longer discern.

Another minute passes, and no higher education is accomplished.

Makoto's eyes flicker to the Bucihmaru pencil case. They then flicker to her phone, face up alongside her workbook. Normally, usually, actually every single time, Makoto does not keep her phone next to her while she studies. There is enough literature and data to make a compelling case that having a phone near you while studying is too distracting.

But.

Makoto squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head.

Makoto returns to the math. Makoto brings her pencil to the page and resolves to do the math.

Makoto does not do the math.

Makoto puts her pencil down, pushes herself away from her desk, stands, and paces in a tight circle around her room, completing eight circuits before she allows her brain to actually think of anything.

Makoto picks up her phone, queues up the Messenger app, walks over to her bed, and promptly collapses.

"I suck at this," she declares to her ceiling.

The ceiling does not offer any tips.

It has been several days since she exchanged contact information with Akira Kurusu, and while she had not expected her phone to explode with inbound communication, she hadn't expected nothing.

And with each sliver of time that crept by without said communication, the expanding absence weighed upon her and drew her thoughts like a black hole. Makoto was now, she was convinced, well past the event horizon, and no amount of steeling her mind or self-recrimination seemed to help.

It did not help that the topic of Akira Kurusu seemed to swell around her during her time at Shujin. Rumors ricocheted through the halls like stray bullets, and Makoto could take hearing about how evil he was so many times before she had to retreat to the quiet of the Student Council room or a bathroom stall to collect herself.

"Stop talking about him like that," she had wanted to scream. Still, as her thoughts revolved around the unmistakable conclusion Makoto held that Akira Kurusu was a good person, they would change lanes to the other unmistakable conclusion. The one she didn't even talk aloud about, even to herself. The one involving Akira Kurusu and whatever his connection was to these Phantom Thieves of Hearts (which of course was the only OTHER thing everyone was talking about, and since Makoto was convinced Akira was a part of the Phantom Thieves, THIS MEANT that everyone was always talking about Akira Kurusu all the time every moment ad goddamn nauseam!).

Makoto takes a deep breath. She knows this is not how she should be. She knows she shouldn't let this boy get to her like this, and really, how could she have allowed it to get this bad?

"But what the hell am I supposed to do?" Makoto asks the ceiling.

Once more, if the ceiling has any answers, it is not forthcoming.

She can't help how she feels. She didn't choose to feel this way.

And maybe, if Akira would get off his bespectacled ass and just text her, she wouldn't be so strung out on-

Makoto's phone beeps and she yelps and falls off the bed.

Several terribly embarrassing seconds later, Makoto manages to pull herself back together and onto the bed.

She checks her phone.

AKIRA : Hi.

Makoto blinks. Hi? He says, 'Hi?' That's it? Rage subsides quickly as the more analytical part of her brain, desperate to be used after several inactive days, begins to work. Relax. What should I say back? Hold on. Is this only the first part of a message? Should I wait for more? I don't see those blinking dots meaning more is incoming. It's also been a few seconds since he sent it. If a longer message were on its way, surely it would be here by now. If I continue to wait, Akira could think I'm ignoring him. READ RECEIPTS ARE A THING. Respond!

Makoto steadies herself and begins to type.

MAKOTO: Hello.

The next message comes a moment later.

AKIRA : I was hoping we could set a date for our next study session. How about Monday?

Makoto feels her adrenaline spike when she sees the word 'date,' but she manages to retain her composure.

MAKOTO : That is acceptable. I shall meet you Monday, after school.

AKIRA : Alright. Great.

Makoto smiles. Now, what do I write? She wants to let Akira know she's happy about this but can't seem too eager. That's just logical.

MAKOTO : Wonderful. Smiley face.

There is no response for several long moments.

AKIRA : You know, you don't have to write 'Smiley face.' You can just type : and ).

Makoto stares at her phone, puzzled. She tries it.

MAKOTO : :)

MAKOTO : Oh, I see! Thank you for correcting me.

AKIRA : No worries.

AKIRA : I wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself. Like how you just did.

Makoto feels the heat in her chest rising. She smiles, and her eyes narrow.

MAKOTO : Tell me something.

MAKOTO : Is there a series of keystrokes that indicate a fist moving towards a face?

AKIRA : Try ( ง •̀_•́) ง

Makoto laughs.

MAKOTO : Perfect.

AKIRA : ;)

"Huh?" Makoto asks.

MAKOTO : I thought you said it was :)?

AKIRA : That was a wink, Makoto.

MAKOTO : Oh.

Her eyes widen. "Oh."

MAKOTO : I suppose we'll talk soon then. Goodnight Akira.

AKIRA : Goodnight, Makoto.

The texts stop.

Makoto stares at her phone, then sets it down next to her on the bed.

She lays back down. "I have no idea what I'm doing," she says to the ceiling.

The ceiling doesn't reply, and knowing her luck, it probably wouldn't even if it could.