Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Akira’s lip was pulled taught between white teeth as he stared down at his phone, rereading the texts Mishima had sent him earlier as Morgana drove him and the rest of the team through the labyrinth of Mementos. With everything going on in his life between being a Phantom Thief, the whole Okumura incident, and school, he’d been a bit too busy to properly hang out with the other lately, but at this point it was impossible not to notice how strangely he’d been acting, especially with these requests… Mishima insisted these were requests pulled from the Phantom Aficionado Website, but Akira recognized these names- students from their school, from their year no less- not people he knew very well, but it still felt off, especially with how persistent he’d been with this one in particular- so he’d looked at the requests on the website himself, just to double check. He’d been hoping that it was just a coincidence, it was entirely within the realm of possibility that someone from their school had sent in a request, but… The supposed requests were nowhere to be found, which raised a lot of questions and left him in a bit of a tough spot in terms of what to tell Mishima.

Calling him out on his lie was the obvious answer, but then again, Mishima was a friend of his- and he was starting to suspect there was something more going on here. Despite everything else on his mind, it was getting harder and harder to shrug off how exhausted the boy looked every time he saw him, the bags under his eyes only growing darker with each passing day, how he was nearly late to class most days… Not to mention that Akira couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Mishima eat more than a few bites of his lunch, spending the rest of his time glued to his phone- managing the website, he assumed. His behaviors were growing increasingly unhealthy with no signs of improving, plus his weird comments here and there about when the Phantom Thieves would “make it big”... Something was clearly up with him. Still, every time Akira would ask what was going on, he would just brush it off, so that was a dead end…

The way he seemed to be trying to use the Phansite for his own gain and his increasing interest in publicity made Akira start to wonder if maybe Mishima had a shadow somewhere in Mementos, but that wasn’t something he really wanted to bring up to the team right now, partially because he didn’t want to believe that his friend would have developed one right under his nose. Acknowledging it almost felt like some kind of betrayal to his friend, even if it was purely out of concern-

Ann, however, did not have the same problem.

“Have you guys noticed anything a little… Off about Mishima lately?” The blonde asked, a hint of hesitance in her voice, but not enough to stop her as she looked over at Akira and Ryuji, blue eyes searching their expressions for an answer. “I mean, not to sound rude or anything, but… He’s been a little weird lately, hasn’t he?”

“Tell me about it!” Ryuji let out a sigh of relief, clearly having thought the same thing for a while now. “I mean, I don’t talk to the guy much, but man- he’s been lookin’ rough lately. I don’t think I’ve seen ‘em do anything but sit on his phone for like, weeks now… What d’you think, Joker? You actually hang out with him sometimes, dontcha?”

Akira had to force himself not to grimace a bit when he was addressed, just keeping his usual calm expression on as he nodded. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, there was no way around it now… “Yeah, I’ve noticed that, along with some other things…” He kept his gaze to the window, watching the streaks of black and red pass them by- but he could feel everyone’s eyes on him now, silently urging him to elaborate. “He requested for us to change the hearts of some students at our school, under the guise of a Phansite request… And he’s made some offhanded comments about us getting famous, which I guess isn’t bad in itself, but it gives me an… Odd feeling.”

“Ooh, yikes dude. I mean I guess being famous would be kinda cool, but the lying thing? Not so much.” Ryuji cringed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. “I mean, why the hell would he lie about somethin’ like that?”

“Yeah, that’s not a good sign…” Ann agreed, a frown creasing her face at the news. “It’s hard to believe he’d suddenly start doing things like that… And what’s with the fame thing? That seems sort of out of nowhere, doesn’t it?”

“It is a bit shocking, but thinking about everything together, it starts to make a little sense.” Makoto chimed in, turning around in her seat to face the others. “If he’s trying to hide that it’s his own requests, then it must be something he’s doing solely for his own benefit, right? It’s possible that he’s trying to further his own goals of making the Phantom Thieves famous- including himself, I’m guessing- which might also explain why he’s been even more preoccupied with the site lately.”

“Excellent deduction, Sherlock!” Futaba didn’t seem to be taking the situation as seriously, giving the brunette a cheeky grin. “Well, we’re already in Mementos, how about we go look for his shadow? I mean, if that’s the case he’s gotta have one, right?”

“I’d rather just talk to him first before we jump right to changing his heart,” Akira shook his head, trying to ignore the knots of dread his stomach was beginning to twist into, shooting another guilty glance down at the texts on his phone. “Changing hearts should be something of a last resort for those who can’t be reasoned with, shouldn’t it?”

“I agree, but even without changing his heart, speaking to his shadow might be a good idea, don’t you think?” Yusuke gave him a curious glance, his stare boring into the Phantom Thieves leader, even from behind the fox mask- or maybe it was just Akira’s growing discomfort making him feel that way. “It would give us a better idea of what exactly we’re dealing with here, since we don’t know for sure what his motivations are. Queen made a good guess, but it’s still just an idea, nothing more.”

“... I guess you’re right.” The raven-haired boy finally agreed, if only because he couldn’t argue with that. Knowing what was going on in Mishima’s head would definitely be helpful… Even if the sense of unease growing within him made him just want to return to LeBlanc and call it a night without searching at all. “Did you catch that, Mona? Be on the lookout for Yuuki Mishima.”

“Aye-aye, captain!”

He had a bad feeling about all of this…

---------------------------

“Dammit, where the hell is he?! We’ve been down here for an effin’ eternity…” Ryuji groaned, hanging his head in exhaustion. It had been around 3 hours at this point, and they’d checked every corner of Mementos they could think of- but Mishima’s shadow was nowhere to be found. Everyone felt pretty worn down at this point, Akira included, and it seemed like some were ready to call it quits for the night- but others weren’t satisfied with the lack of an answer.

“Maybe his distortion isn’t strong enough to have really formed a shadow yet…?” Ann questioned, a sentiment Akira would’ve liked to back up, but…

“Nah, there’s no way! I mean c’mon, lying about requests on a site he made to help people? There’s no way he doesn’t have one!” Futaba insisted, and as much as he wanted to deny it, he knew it was the truth. It wasn’t like he’d done anything particularly terrible, but his cognition was definitely twisted in some way. “Are we sure we looked everywhere?”

“For the last time, there’s nowhere else to look!” Morgana was quick to interject, annoyed that she would doubt him. “If he has a shadow, it’s definitely not in here.”

“Well, where else would it be?” The ginger sighed, rolling her eyes- she was purely frustrated at first, but the silence that followed her words seemed to make the air grow heavier as the implications of the question and the severity of their situation started to sink in.

“You don’t think…” Makoto started, hesitant, only for Yusuke to say what everyone had begun to assume.

“Maybe he has a palace, then?” The artist finished her sentence, the tension suffocating as everyone shifted uncomfortably in their seats at the idea.

“That can’t be it.” Akira spoke up despite himself, his own emotions starting to get the better of him- he knew Mishima better than anyone else here, how could they suggest something like that when they hardly knew him? Even if he’d messed up, he was still… “He’s definitely starting to lose his way, but I think it’s more likely that he doesn’t have a shadow yet than him having developed a palace.”

“Let’s not forget that Oracle developed a palace without doing anything heinous- all it takes is a twisted worldview. It’s not out of the question.” Yusuke continued, before giving Akira a sympathetic glance that he could feel despite his lack of eye contact. “I understand that you’re closer to him than the rest of us, so it must be hard to believe, but we have to consider the possibility. It’s our responsibility as Phantom Thieves, is it not?”

… Damn it. Yet again, he’s left without a decent counter, outside of some obviously biased argument about how he knew his friend to be better than that…

“... I guess you’re right.” He relented, sighing as he pulled his phone out once again, hastily closing out of his texts and opening the MetaNav app. “We’ll try a few combinations, just to make sure.”

“Well, the location has to be the Phansite, right? He’s beyond obsessed with it at this point, just from what I see at school…” Ann leaned over his shoulder to watch him type Phantom Aficionado Website into the blank space after his name.

“Will that even work? A website ain’t exactly a real place like th’ other palaces have been based on…” Ryuji questioned, cocking an eyebrow in confusion, but Morgana shook his head, at least, as much as he could in van form.

“No, I think it’ll be fine. It’s a representation of his cognition, so it doesn’t exactly have to be on par with reality… Though the fact it’s not based on a physical location might make things interesting.” He assured the blonde, a relief given nobody had any ideas on what else it could be. “If he really does have a palace, I’m sort of intrigued to see how that works, honestly!”

“I guess the real question is what the last keyword should be…” Haru hummed, furrowing her brows in thought. “It’s a website dedicated to the Phantom Thieves, so maybe he sees it as a shrine of some kind…? I’ve never met him, though, so I’m not sure…”

Yuuki Mishima - Phantom Aficionado Website - Shrine
No matches found.

“Hmm… If it’s not that, then…” Ann mumbled, before she suddenly grinned, and Akira could practically see the lightbulb going off above her head. “It’s sort of like his sanctuary, isn’t it? Somewhere he’s got a little power, somewhere he can go with his issues… And it’s sort of like a sanctuary for the other users too, right?”

Yuuki Mishima - Phantom Aficionado Website - Sanctuary
No matches found.

“Damn! Not that, either? I thought that was gonna be it for sure…” Ryuji huffed, scratching his head in confusion. “Maybe he doesn’t have a palace after all, huh?”

“A sanctuary seems like an accurate assessment, but I think the problem with that is that it’s not a necessarily corrupt way to view it. I think we need to focus more on the fame aspect. You said he’s been talking about that quite a bit lately, right, Joker?” Makoto suggested, to which the others nod in agreement. “Let’s see, maybe it’s…”

“A stage.” Akira finished, a sense of certainty in his voice. It just felt… Right, based on everything he’d heard from Mishima lately. Like Ann said, the website was somewhere he had power, if only a little bit. It was a place where his voice could finally be heard above the masses, and now… Now it was somewhere where he could be the center of attention, wasn’t it? “The Phansite… is his stage.”

A tense silence fell over the group as he typed in those final five letters:

Yuuki Mishima - Phantom Aficionado Website - Stage.
1 match found.

“Ooh, shit! There it is! Right on, Joker!”

Ryuji’s excited whooping and the sighs of relief from the rest of the thieves stood in stark contrast to the sheer shock and disbelief Akira found himself in, feeling sick to his stomach despite the stoic expression on his face. This entire time, he’d tried to hold onto the hope that maybe they’d just missed his shadow somehow despite their thorough searching, but now he couldn’t keep himself in denial. How could this happen? How could he let someone so close to him develop such a distorted mindset…? He knew he couldn’t really blame himself, he couldn’t control how Mishima thought and acted, but still- he couldn’t help thinking that if he’d kept a closer eye on him, then maybe, just maybe, things wouldn’t have gotten this bad.

“We’ll explore this tomorrow.” The words left his mouth before he could even think about it- more of a statement than a request. It wasn’t out of line for him as the leader of their group, and he knew everyone was pretty exhausted at the moment, definitely in no state to go exploring a new palace- but he knew it was more fueled by his own discomfort than anything. “It’s a Sunday night, we can’t be staying out too late in the first place."

“Sounds good to me! I’m about ready to go to bed, anyways.” Ann agreed, barely suppressing a yawn as she spoke. “We’ll meet at LeBlanc after school, then?”

Akira just nodded, not trusting himself to say anything more as he returned them to the real world, head still spinning as he bid his friends goodnight. Despite dealing with far worse individuals, this palace was going to be the most difficult to get through, that was for sure.

---------------------------

Yuuki couldn’t help cursing under his breath as he glanced at his phone for what felt like the thousandth time that night, over and over again greeted with silence from Kurusu. He tried his best not to get angry, really, he did- the other was a Phantom Thief, after all, he was busy more often than not… But it was hard to keep his head, especially when this had been happening more and more often lately. Seriously, how hard was it to just shoot him a single text back? Especially when he was working so hard for their sake… Even when it seemed like everyone had turned on them in the wake of the Okumura incident, not only did he stay loyal, but he was working harder than ever! Was a little appreciation too much to ask for? Had he not earned that yet? How much more did he have to do to get a shred of Kurusu’s attention?

He swallows the resentment bubbling to the surface, gritting his teeth and setting his phone face down on his desk. It didn’t feel good, having these feelings about someone he admired so dearly. Kurusu was his only friend, after all (even if he wasn’t so sure that the feeling was mutual at this point), not to mention the Phantom Thieves and Kurusu in particular had saved him… It felt dirty to even have such thoughts. How dare he, after all they’d done for him? But then again, what about his own hard work…?

It’s too complicated. He doesn’t want to unpack all that, not right now. Instead, he turns his attention back to the bright screen of his computer, the sole source of light in the dark of his bedroom. He didn’t have time for all of that, not with how many comments were flooding the Phansite on the daily now. These fair-weather fans, doubting the Phantom Thieves… He wouldn’t tolerate it, not on his website. There was no room for such opinions. His voice (and the voices of those who agreed) were the only ones allowed to be heard here. He wouldn’t let them tarnish their reputation like that… Not to mention the poll results weren’t turning out how he wanted, either. He’d need to fix that… Always more work to do, wasn’t there?

A brief glance at the clock told him it was 1:00am, for a moment considering maybe he should get some rest for school tomorrow, but he quickly put that out of his mind. No, this was more important. The things he learned there wouldn’t do him any good, really. He needed to pass, but the actual content didn’t matter. It wouldn’t get him anywhere. This website, the Phantom Thieves… That was where his future truly lied. If he just kept at it, kept bolstering their reputation, then maybe… Maybe…

---------------------------

Monday morning still came despite Akira wishing the sun would just stay below the horizon, his dread never fully subsiding as he got ready for school. It was going to be strange seeing Mishima today, knowing that he had a palace now… He still couldn’t believe it, honestly, but unfortunately reality wasn’t going to wait for his mind to catch up with it, so he got on the train anyways, trying his best (and failing) to keep it from occupying too much of his mind. The Phansite, a stage… What was it going to be like there? And more importantly, what was Mishima’s shadow going to be like? Timid, excitable, loyal- it was hard to imagine his friend any other way, and it was especially hard to imagine him as cruel… He was so lost in thought that he nearly missed his stop, hurrying off the crowded train with a tight grip on the strap of his bag.

Entering the classroom, he immediately noticed that Mishima’s seat was still vacant. It wasn’t unusual by any means, more and more often lately the boy would come stumbling through the door a second before class started, but still… Akira was anxious to see him, simultaneously wishing he didn’t have to face him at all and needing to see him as soon as possible. Gray eyes focused on the sliding door as he sat down at his desk, watching their other classmates filter in and take their seats, one by one. The clock was ticking, just one seat left empty…

For a moment, Akira was certain he wasn’t going to make it in time today, but right on cue there he was, short navy hair as messy as it had ever been as he rushed through the door and practically collapsed into his seat just as the bell sounded. He could hear a few snickers from their classmates, but it seemed Mishima was too preoccupied with straightening himself out to notice. Brown eyes seemed even darker when accompanied by the bags beneath them, his uniform was wrinkled and clearly thrown on in a rush, and he was sure he hadn’t even bothered with his hair… He looked like hell, to say the least. Akira wants to go to his desk, make sure he’s alright- but class is already starting, and he’s already glued to that phone of his, making it impossible to catch his gaze, even for a second.

It’s a relief when lunch finally rolls around, the hours prior having felt like an eternity of watching Mishima more than actually paying attention to the lectures, noticing the way he checked his phone whenever he got the chance, how it looked like he was about to pass out any moment now… And even worse, how he didn’t even bother getting his lunch out when it was time, going right back to what he could only assume was managing the Phansite.

“Mind if I sit with you?”

The question is simple enough, but the sound of Akira’s voice nearly causes Mishima to jump out of his skin, a yelp of surprise that he couldn’t quite suppress leaving him as he drops his phone on his desk.

“Um-! I mean, y-yeah, of course!” He stammers, the words struggling to leave his mouth in the right order as he rushes to reply. It’s endearing, really, but Mishima can’t help being embarrassed of it, pulling himself together after a moment and glancing around the classroom. “But, uh… Don’t you usually eat lunch with your other friends…?”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to talk to you today.” Akira shrugged nonchalantly, giving him a small smile as he pulled his chair up to the side of his desk. “Did you forget to bring lunch today? We can head down to the school store, if you want.”

“Oh-! No, no, I just didn’t take it out yet, that’s all.” There’s a bit of guilt in his nervous smile as he digs his lunchbox out of his bag, and Akira can’t help thinking he hadn’t actually intended on spending his time eating. He doesn’t even pick up his chopsticks before he’s asking more questions, as if he can’t believe the other would just randomly sit with him. “Did you have any questions about the, uh… Comments I sent you? I-I mean we can talk about that now if you really want to, but maybe it’d be best to wait until after school…”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just wanted to hang out for a bit. We haven’t been able to just talk as friends in a while, you know?” He assures, and he can see Mishima’s eyes widen at the word ‘friends’- had he been doubting that lately? Still, at least he looks happy now, his classmate clearly trying to hide how brightly he was beaming at that.

“R-right! Right.” Mishima nods with a light laugh, at last beginning to pick at his small lunch, and a silence falls over them as they eat- not something that Akira minds, really, but he can see Mishima start to squirm ever-so-slightly in his seat, and he can practically feel the anxiety emanating off of him. “So… Oh! Did I show you the latest poll results?”

“Mm, no, I don’t think you did.” He hums, watching closely as the other excitedly pulls up the Phantom Aficionado Website and turns the screen towards him. It’s usually hard not to get caught up in the others' excitement sometimes, with how enthusiastic he always was about showing him what he’d been working on, however…

Are the Phantom Thieves Just?
75% : YES

“Wow, that’s… Impressive.” Akira tried to keep the doubt out of his voice, but… There was just no way those poll results were right. Even before they were suspected in Okumura’s death, the poll results were usually far more divisive, but now… Either Mishima was directly tampering with the results, or he had banned so many people from the website that only those who could look past the incident remained. Neither option was very appealing. “I’m shocked the number is still that high.”

“Isn’t it great? People haven’t lost faith yet!” Mishima grinned, before turning his phone off and slipping it back in his pocket. It was a little unsettling, seeing him so happy when Akira knew there was something so wrong going on here. “I’ve been working really hard on trying to sway public opinion- er, at least online opinions- back in their favor. I’ve been cross-posting on other social media sites and everything, too…”

“Right… That’s why you look so exhausted, then?” Akira raised an eyebrow at him, watching as the other shrunk back in his seat and scratched the back of his head sheepishly- that was enough of an answer. “You know, I really do appreciate how much effort you’re putting into the website, we all do- but it’s starting to seem more like the websites running you into the ground instead of you running the website.”

“I-I’m fine, really! I mean, I did stay up pretty late last night, but… I don’t pull that many all-nighters!” He insisted, but Akira wasn’t buying it for a second. He’d been noticing this for a long time now, so there was no way it was only a few late nights here and there…

“Are you sure?” He pressed on, but it didn’t seem like the other was going to budge anytime soon, just nodding and waving his hand dismissively.

“Yeah, I’m sure! Like I said, I’m totally fine. Thanks for the concern, though…”

“If you say so.”

Not wanting to make things awkward between them, Akira decided to back down for now- for all he knew, Mishima might not admit his own exhaustion no matter how hard he pushed him, and there was no point in causing a scene at lunch. Their conversation carries on as usual as he listens to Mishima talk about coding, words he doesn’t understand in the slightest but he listens and nods along anyways.

---------------------------

Lunch ends far too soon, and unlike the slowness of this morning the rest of the day seems to fly by. Before he knows it, Akira’s back at LeBlanc with the other Phantom Thieves, readying up the MetaNav to enter the newfound palace. He read the keywords over again a few more times, as if he still couldn’t believe them- but he couldn’t keep stalling, as much as he wished he could just keep avoiding the truth. He hoped that this would truly help Mishima, especially with how self-destructive he seemed to be lately, but either way… In the end, this was his duty as a Phantom Thief, whether he liked it or not. After just a second of hesitation that feels like hours, he presses the button.

Yuuki Mishima - Phantom Aficionado Website - Stage
> ENTER.

The world around them warps, the cozy, private atmosphere of his room melting away into void, darkness… But the pitch black didn’t last long. The second the world around them solidified again, flashes of bright light caused Akira to squeeze his eyes shut, instinctively raising a gloved hand to shield his face. Not only that, but he could feel bodies pressed against and bumping into him from all sides, the excited chatter of the crowd never-ending, making it hard to focus on any one particular voice, even though Akira is sure he can vaguely hear some of his teammates complaining behind him.

“He’s so amazing, isn’t he?”
“Aah, he just looked at me-! Can you believe that?!”
“He saved me!”
“Can I please have your autograph?”
“They couldn’t have done it without him!”

As he forces his eyes open again, it becomes clear that the flashing lights were cameras, all facing the same direction- up ahead, it looks like there’s a break in the seemingly endless crowd, and Akira takes the opportunity to start pushing forward. They weren’t going to get anywhere like this, staying crushed between fans and paparazzi, if he could just see what was up there… The mindless figures hardly seem to notice as he weaves between them, forcing his way to the front, the rest of the Phantom Thieves following close behind so as to not get lost in the sea of people. The crowd was surrounding a long red carpet, one end stretching into oblivion and the other leading to the entrance of a tall city building, covered in screens and neon lights. That had to be the palace… What the masses were truly fawning over wasn’t the building itself, no, of course not- following the direction of the camera lenses, gray eyes settled further up the carpet; on the shadow standing at the center of it all:

Yuuki Mishima, dressed in a designer suit, white button-up overlaid with a pinstriped navy vest and an even darker tie, far more expensive than anything the boy could afford now. He was absolutely thriving on the attention, signing autographs, shaking hands, posing for photos, cocky grin made unsettling by something dark behind those golden eyes. If that weren’t enough on its own, there was something even more shocking about the scene, something that sent Akira utterly reeling the second his eyes focused on it. Right next to the celebrity was a taller figure, dressed in an equally fancy black suit, hands adorned with red leather gloves never quite leaving Mishima’s waist, always whispering in his ear…

There was no mistaking it. The man acting so close to Mishima’s shadow was none other than a flawless copy of Akira Kurusu himself.

Chapter Text

“Thank you, thank you! Really, I’m so lucky to have such lovely fans!”

The crowd only became even more wound up when Mishima’s shadow spoke, but Akira hardly noticed, eyes solely fixed on the perfect reflection of himself kept close to the shadow’s side. It wasn’t perfect in that it was entirely accurate to the real Akira though, no- it was perfect in that every flaw, no matter how minute, had been erased entirely. There wasn’t a single blemish on its pale, almost porcelain skin, not a single raven hair out of place upon its head, never making an unflattering expression… It was like a doll, beautiful but uncanny. He swallowed the heavy lump forming in his throat- was this how Mishima saw him? Flawless? Should he be flattered or unsettled? Both? And what did the almost intimate nature of the shadow and his cognition mean, for that matter?

“Joker? Joker! Come on, snap out of it!” Ann’s voice finally brought him back to reality, turning his head to see her giving him a reassuring smile. “Hey, I know how weird it can be to see something like that, but you’re not alone. Just hang in there, alright?”

He wants to speak, to thank her, but the words get caught in his throat- so he just nods, using the moment to steel his nerves. It was shocking, but he couldn’t let that get to him right now. He was the leader of the Phantom Thieves, after all, he couldn’t let the group down… Especially when they were heading into a new palace for the first time. This was not the time to lose his cool. Luckily, it seemed the shadow had gotten his fill of attention for the time being, waving goodbye to the crowd and even blowing a few kisses before heading back inside with the cognition- Akira’s sure he saw a few fans faint at that, a testament to how ridiculously over the top this whole thing was.

“What the hell, man… Is this seriously what he thinks about the Phansite?” Ryuji complained from somewhere behind him and Ann, frowning as he pushed his way closer to the front. “And what was with that cognitive Joker--”

“Let’s get moving.” Akira interjected, wanting to just move on as soon as he could. If he just focused on exploring the palace itself, maybe he could put that out of his mind for now…

He ducked under the velvet rope barrier between the audience and the red carpet, almost expecting the crowd to turn on them for daring to step into the spotlight, but… No, nobody paid him any mind, even as the rest of the Phantom Thieves joined him. It was like they were completely invisible. It was convenient, that was for sure, but at the same time it rubbed Akira the wrong way, especially when he’d heard Mishima express how he felt like nobody ever noticed him… Was this what he experienced every day? Akira shook the thoughts out of his head- he could unpack that later. Stay focused.

Now that they were out of the crowd, it was a lot easier to see the palace. It was fairly tall, but not quite a skyscraper, about 10 stories high, with bright screens and neon lights illuminating every corner of it. Most prominent were the massive screens that went all the way up the front of the building, a constant flow of comments from the real website displayed on each. The further up the screen was, however, the more and more comments were deleted. First just spam and hate were removed, as one might expect, but by the final screen, only comments praising the site admin remained. Next to the building stood a giant sign, its horizontal diamond shape lined with flashing bulbs, reading “Yuuki Mishima’s wonderful PHANSITE!”, the final word taking up the majority of the space. It was reminiscent of the famous Las Vegas sign in all its gaudy, attention-grabbing glory.

An awkward silence fell over the thieves as they made their way up the carpet and to the palace entrance. This was the first time Akira had been so personally affected by a palace, so nobody was quite sure what they could say without crossing a line. The tension was palpable as they passed through the glass front doors and stepped onto the first floor, only a few murmurs amongst themselves as they braced themselves for what might be inside…

The first sight they were greeted by was a front desk and receptionist, who stared blankly ahead even as they entered. Behind her there were advertisements for tours and meet-and-greets with the Phantom Thieves and their manager, though upon closer inspection it looked like every possible meeting time had already been booked out for the next few months. A few other shadows milled about the first floor, but they seemed to just be stray fans and paparazzi, nothing to worry about yet.

A couple of screens were hung upon the walls, some displaying the same comment flow as the outside, while others seemed to be playing clips from interviews with Mishima’s shadow and the cognitive thieves. The surrounding walls had signs pointing to the restrooms and a guide of what was on each floor, but those things were far less noticeable when compared to what crowded any remaining wall space- Phantom Thief posters. There were all kinds of designs, but it was all about the thieves and their amazing manager- and, notably, there were significantly more posters featuring Akira than any of the others. No matter where you looked, it was Phantom Thieves, Phantom Thieves, Phantom Thieves.

“Jeez, this is a lot, even for him…” Futaba muttered, eyes fixed on one of the screens. “It’s like, the epitome of fanboy obsession, isn’t it? Noir’s guess about shrine being the keyword was technically wrong, but it’s still kinda true, isn’t it?”

“He’s more obsessed with Joker than he is with the Phantom Thieves. I mean seriously, first the cognition and now this- look at how many more posters there are of him!” Ryuji jerked his head towards the wall, crossing his arms. “The hell’s up with that? I’m just as cool, y’know! And it’s not like he doesn’t know me!”

“It’s because none of you are really his friends.” Akira stated plainly, though he hoped he didn’t come off too harshly. “I’m the only one that spends time with him, so… it makes sense.”

“Seemed like that cognition was a little too friendly, if you ask me--” The blonde started, but he was quickly cut off by a slug to the arm from Ann. “Ow! Come on, am I wrong?”

“That doesn’t matter! Joker’s right, I mean, when was the last time any of us even talked to him?” Ann questioned, only to be met with silence and a few shrugs. “Exactly. If you wanna be on the palace walls so bad, Skull, maybe you should hang out with him for a change.”

“Ugh, point taken…” Ryuji muttered, finally relenting with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s just look around and see if there’s anythin’ important down here…”

“Agreed.” Akira nods, trying to shake off the odd feeling that came with seeing his own face everywhere, his own eyes on every wall, the flawless version of himself watching him with scrutiny. “It looks like we’ve got a lot of floors to cover, so once we get this floor covered, we’ll hurry and move on to the next.”

---------------------------

The rest of the floor is much the same, cognitive fans and tourists milling about among the shadows, stray paparazzi trying their damndest to pay the receptionist to let them meet their favorite celebrities early, but nothing else particularly notable- though admittedly, they did each spend quite a bit of time flipping through the pamphlets and brochures about the Phantom Thieves, definitely more than necessary. How could anyone resist curiosity when there were such flattering articles and whatnot about them right at their fingertips? For some it was fun to indulge in the fantasy of being world-famous celebrities for just a moment, even if it came from something as twisted as a palace… Though for Akira, it was more about searching for whatever hints he could get about how Mishima really felt about him, still reeling from the scene they’d stumbled across earlier.

“Well, I think it’s safe to say we’ve cleared this floor. Let’s head up, shall we?” Makoto suggested, glancing over at the directory on the wall next to the stairs. “It looks like the next floor is… Some kind of Phantom Thieves museum?”

“Oh, great, that already sounds like it’s gonna be creepy.” Futaba mumbled, the rolling of her eyes somehow obvious despite her mask. “Whatever, let’s get this over with! No point in wasting any more time down here.”

Just as the Phantom Thieves were about to take their first steps up the stairs, a familiar voice stopped them in their tracks- though it wasn’t the voice of Mishima, or even Akira. No, this time, it was…

“You people don’t have a tour pass, do you?”

The cognition of Yusuke asked, and while he looked real enough and was dressed in similar glamorous attire, there was definitely something far more uncanny about him as compared to the other cognitions they’d seen. His voice was just plain eerie, like it had a slight echo to it, and his movements were strange, stiff, like he was being controlled by some outside force… He was like a puppet on invisible strings, approaching them with a look of disgust in his eyes.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you past this floor if you aren’t paying customers. Ha, did you spend all your money on those ridiculous costumes?”

“... Alright, I take back everything I said about wanting to show up in the palace more. I don’t think I wanna meet myself…” Ryuji cringed, glancing over at the real Yusuke, who looked just as disturbed.

“To think he views me like this…” The artist sighed, shaking his head lightly before addressing the cognition more directly. “And who are you to stop us?”

“Hah, do you really need to ask? I’m a Phantom Thief! Not to mention the artistic director for my manager’s beautiful institution here...” The false Yusuke let out an arrogant laugh, before drawing the sword from his hip and stepping closer. “... And I’m not about to let you destroy all his hard work. How would you like for me to change your hearts~? It’s an honor, really. Consider yourselves lucky.”

With the entirety of the team against one cognition, it wasn’t too difficult of a battle to overcome, but the puppet hit harder than expected- though to be honest, his attacks leaned more towards valuing aesthetics over practicality. Still, despite only fighting a single enemy, the battle left the Phantom Thieves on the edge of exhaustion due to how strong the cognition ended up being, despite its almost fragile appearance…

“If that’s how strong he thinks Fox is, I can only imagine how tough it’s gonna be to beat Joker… Well, I guess we should just hope it doesn’t come to that anytime soon.” Ann mused, wiping the sweat from her face as she glanced around to check on everyone else. “We’re lucky we’re all still okay, ‘cause I don’t think any of us were prepared for that. Or any of this, for that matter.”

“Well, at least he doesn’t think yer a wimp! Even though he probably still thinks yer a total weirdo, haha.” Ryuji gave a playful punch to his teammate's arm, although it didn’t seem to help Yusuke’s attitude much.

“Forgive me if I’m still not thrilled about the whole thing…” He muttered, straightening himself out and tilting his head back towards the stairs. “Well, now that that’s out of the way… Shall we move on?”

“No. I think we should call it a day.” Akira’s words seemed to shock most of the crew- he was never the type to throw in the towel early, so it was extremely out of the ordinary for him to be so ready to call it quits already- but despite his indecipherable expression, for the first time, he was starting to truly feel overwhelmed by a palace, like he couldn’t stand another second in here.

Damn it, why was this getting to him so badly…?

“What? Come on dude, we’ve barely gotten started here! Seriously, look at how much ground we have to cover, are we really just gonna stop here?” Ryuji complained, and it seemed like the majority of the group agreed to some degree, giving their leader a variety of confused looks.

“... I agree with Joker.” Haru chimed in, her voice soft but firm as she came to his aid. “Like you said, Skull, we do have a lot of ground to cover, however… Can we really be expected to do that efficiently- or safely, for that matter- if our leader's head isn’t in the right place? He’s been through quite a lot today already. Considering that, I think it would be best to take the rest of the day to recuperate…”

“Right, and it’s not as if we’re on a particular deadline this time. Not that we know of, at least…” Makoto agreed after a moment of consideration, and it seemed the others were beginning to come around as well.

“Okay, yeah, that’s true…” Ryuji shrugged, sparing an apologetic glance toward Akira. “Sorry, guess I was sorta gettin’ ahead of myself, wantin’ to look around more and all that. We got plenty of time for that later, yeah? Let’s take it easy for now.”

“... Thanks, guys.” Akira let a small smile cross his expression, despite the pressure this palace made him feel. He had a hard time expressing it further than that with his words, but he truly was thankful to have such an understanding group of friends. “We can come back later this week. I just need a little time to sort things out…”

---------------------------

Returning to LeBlanc brought some relief, at the very least, but even now that he was outside of that place, Akira couldn’t take his mind off of it. No matter what he tried to do- homework, video games, whatever- all he could think of was that shadow and his cognitive self. While he tried to keep the questions of what all of that meant for their relationship out of his mind, he just couldn’t shake off the strange feeling Mishima’s shadow gave him. He wasn’t like many of the other palace owners they’d encountered- he was cocky and fame-obsessed, sure, basking in the attention like it was all that mattered, but he wasn’t… Hurting anyone, right? He was exploiting the Phantom Thieves for his own benefit, which was obviously a problem, but at the same time, it was at least mutually beneficial…

None of that made it right, of course, but the moral gray area was really starting to bother him. Even after having fully formed a palace, Akira couldn’t help thinking that he was beyond saving in a different way. He hadn’t fallen too far, if he could just change his mind in the real world, then maybe…

“Morgana. Is it possible to change a palace owner’s heart without stealing their treasure?” He finally broke the long silence between them as he laid down, staring at the ceiling, his racing mind refusing to let him rest.

“Well, I’ve never seen it done before, not once it’s reached this point…” Morgana mewed, tilting his head curiously from his place on Akira’s desk. “Is that how you’re planning on handling this?”

“Well, it’s not like I’m going to refuse to steal his treasure. If that’s really the best way to help him, then so be it. But I just can’t help thinking… If there’s anyone that could willingly change their own heart, it would be Mishima, right?” He explained, despite feeling a twinge of hesitance at the vulnerability this conversation was making him feel. “I just want to see if I can make it happen before we find his treasure, that’s all. If nothing’s changed by that time, we’ll go through the usual motions, but… I want to try.”

“Interesting… Well, I guess I can’t rule it out completely. After all, shadows and palaces are still just manifestations of distorted desires at the end of the day, so if you could find some other way to change that, then… It might work! I don’t know for sure, though, so don’t quote me on that. Plus, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about the possibility, now that you mention it.” The cat affirmed, before yawning and curling up into a ball. “You’re not gonna be able to do much for him if you stay up all night, though. Try and get some rest, okay?”

“... Yeah, alright. Goodnight, Morgana.”

“G’night, Akira!”

Possible or not, he was going to do whatever he could to help his friend work through these issues himself… If there was any way he could avoid a forceful change of heart, then he had to at least try. This was his friend they were talking about, after all- he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he didn’t do something.

---------------------------

Spam… delete. Hate comments… delete. Unrelated discussions… delete. Even more spam… delete. Delete, delete, delete.

This was the endless cycle Yuuki found himself in night after night, countless hours slipping by without him even noticing. Honestly, staring at this screen all night made his head hurt like hell, and dealing with the constant flow of newfound hate for the Phantom Thieves did nothing to help his mood. No part of this felt good these days, really, but he still kept pushing on… Well, except for choosing the requests. There was always some thrilling rush of power at getting to pick and choose who was worthy of getting help from the thieves, but other than that? Moderating had become so mind-numbing, unrewarding. There was always more to do, the end never in sight, and what did he get in return? Maybe he should find someone else to help him out a little bit, at the very least…

He scoffs at himself - be patient. If he just kept working hard, then surely he would be noticed, right? Plus, if he brought someone else to work on the site, they would only taint his vision, not to mention stealing the spotlight from him… He already had to share it with the Phantom Thieves, just clinging onto their coattails for just the slightest amount of praise and attention, there was no way he could split it with someone else. And how could he know who to trust? With how many so-called fans had turned their backs on the thieves after their latest big target, he couldn’t guarantee that anyone else truly shared their ideals… His ideals. No, he had to do this himself. He was the only one that could do it, the only one…

He lets out an embarrassing yelp as his phone suddenly buzzes, breaking the tense silence of the room outside of the clicking of his mouse and keyboard. Who could possibly be texting him this late…? It’s probably just some stupid spam text, he shouldn’t get too excited… His heart leaps in his chest when he actually checks his phone, however.

[Kurusu]: hey. you free after school tomorrow?
[Mishima]: Yeah, I am. Is this about the requests?
[Kurusu]: not really, just thought we could do something fun.
[Kurusu]: grab crepes or something like that.
[Mishima]: Oh, yeah, sure! I’d love to!!

Yuuki cringed as soon as he hit send, flipping his phone face-down on his desk so he wouldn’t have to look at it. He definitely sounded way too excited there, ugh… Way to be a total weirdo about it. Still, despite his excitement, he couldn’t help thinking the very idea of going out for dessert with Kurusu sounded like a total joke. If it wasn’t to discuss the Phansite, why in the world would he want to hang out with him two days in a row? There’s some hopeful inkling in him that maybe it means they really are friends, but… It’s just so hard to believe that Kurusu would want to spend time with a nobody like himself, just for fun. He wasn’t fun or interesting to be around, he was really just a useful source of intel, so why…?

He doesn’t have time to properly wrap his head around the idea before his phone buzzes once again.

[Kurusu]: cool. wanna head out right after class?
[Mishima]: Yeah, that works for me!

Damn, he wished he could keep his cool as well as the other did… He was always so smooth. Yuuki couldn’t for the life of him understand how he did it… He sets his phone down for good this time, chewing his lip nervously as his heart pounds against his ribs. Despite his doubts about how Kurusu really felt towards him, he still couldn’t help being excited. It seemed like such a small, insignificant probability, but maybe they really were friends? Well, even if Kurusu was just forcing himself to hang out with him for one reason or another, maybe he could prove himself to be more than just an over-enthusiastic fan…

And once he became famous, there’d be no denying he was somebody now, right? It wouldn’t be embarrassing to be seen with him. Maybe then Kurusu would invite him out like this more often… Just another reason to keep hard at work, he supposed.

The sparks of delight in his chest from the invitation fizzle out as soon as he turns his attention back to the website, the smile he didn’t realize was on his face falling the second his eyes fall upon more and more strings of words. In an instant he’s sucked back down the rabbit hole of hate and pleas for help… Maybe it's something of an addiction at this point. As exhausting as it is, there’s something about getting rid of these useless, vapid comments that he can’t get enough of. In the real world, he was always the one being talked over… But here, even if it felt like a chore at this point, he was the loudest voice of all. He would decide who had the right to speak, and it sure wasn’t any of these brainless, hate-filled idiots. Would it be like that once he was a celebrity too, he wondered? There’s a grim pleasure that tugs at his heart at the thought.

Now there’s some good motivation…

Haters? Delete. Bullies? Delete. All those adults that ignored what was happening to the volleyball team? Delete, delete, delete. Change all of their hearts until there’s nobody left to make him feel small again… Once he proved himself and forced himself into the spotlight, he’d never let anyone push him around again.

Chapter Text

Despite staying up all night again, Yuuki awoke with a new spring in his step on Tuesday morning. For once, the Phantom Aficionado Website wasn’t the only thing on his mind. No, today he was going to actually hang out with Kurusu after school, and not just to talk about requests- though he was sure he’d bring that up at some point anyways. He couldn’t help himself, as the admin and all… He actually ended up getting to class early this time around, eagerly waiting for Kurusu to show up, impatient for class to end from the very second it started. Maybe he was getting too excited, he couldn’t say for sure that this wasn’t out of pity after all, but… He just admired the Phantom Thieves leader so much, to spend any time with him at all, to be worthy of any of his attention… There was no better feeling, really.

“Hey, you ready to go?” The raven-haired boy finally approached him as the last bell rang, and Yuuki gave him the biggest smile he’d been able to muster in weeks, nodding and standing up from his desk.

“Yep! It’s not like I have any other plans after school most days… Well, besides working on the site, but I figure it can’t hurt to put that on pause for one afternoon, right?” He’d put anything on hold for Kurusu is what he really meant, but he’d die before he ever said anything like that out loud, especially to another guy.

“No kidding. I’m sure the Phansite will survive if I steal you away for a few hours.” He replied in that low, cool voice of his, and that small smile combined with the phrasing made Yuuki’s head spin. How could he just say things like that with a straight face…? And why did the thought of the Phantom Thief taking him away in the night make his heart do flips? There must be something wrong with him… “So, I was thinking we’d go to…”

He could hear the other continuing to talk about something else, but something else caught Yuuki’s attention for the moment- that whispering. He could hear it every time the two of them were together, their classmates muttering amongst themselves… To be honest, he had already been used to this kind of thing before Kurusu transferred here. If he wasn’t being completely ignored, his classmates would whisper behind his back, joke about how much of a loser he was or speculate about how he got all those bruises like he couldn’t hear them… But it felt so much worse now, knowing it wasn’t just about him. Knowing that they all thought of Kurusu as some violent criminal, and knowing it was all his fault for leaking his record- he just couldn’t stand it. He wanted to tell them to shut their mouths and stop talking about people they knew nothing about, somehow prove to them that the so-called criminal was twice the person they’d ever be- but he couldn’t bring himself to. He was such a coward. He’d never been able to stand up for himself, not when Kamoshida told him to leak his record in the first place, and not now… How could Kurusu forgive someone like him?

“Does that sound good to you?” That voice snapped him out of his thoughts again, and he quickly nodded despite not knowing what they were talking about at this point. Kurusu wasn’t dumb, though, raising an eyebrow and giving him an incredulous look. “You weren’t listening, were you?”

“Gah, you got me… S-sorry, I just got distracted is all! What were you saying?”

“I was just telling you about the crepe place, it’s over in Harajuku. You still down to go?”

“O-oh! Yeah, yeah, of course! I haven’t been in that area in a while, so…” He trailed off, giving Akira a shy half-smile- he really hoped he hadn’t screwed this up already… He didn’t mean to ignore what Kurusu was saying, it was just those damn rumors-! Did he think he was inconsiderate now? Or that he didn’t care what he had to say? No, that couldn’t be possible, with everything he’s done for the Phantom Thieves, he had to know how much he cared… Right?

“Good. Let’s get going, then.”

Kurusu smiled and tilted his head towards the door, and Yuuki felt his heart flutter as he followed him out of the classroom and to the train station. Harajuku wasn’t a far ride, though the station was incredibly busy- it wasn’t unusual around this time for the cars to be packed to the brim, but given he always rode alone, he’d never had to squeeze in with another person… He wanted to suggest waiting for the next train, honestly, but there was no time to think, and his friend was already stepping inside, turning and looking at him expectantly- screw it, he wasn’t being left behind! Even if it meant hardly having any breathing room for a few stops…

The other passengers moved aside as much as they could as Yuuki hopped on at the last second, feeling the doors close just behind his back- and just like that, there was no room to move. He would be stuck here until the next stop at least… And when he realized that Kurusu’s chest was right in front of his face, he damn near fainted. They were so close, every bump and jolt of the train threatening to send Yuuki tumbling right into him, and their height difference was more obvious than ever, Kurusu’s chin resting right above his head… Oh, god. Why did he think this was a good idea? He could just about explode, being this close to him- the train heaved again, and in an attempt to steady himself he grabbed onto the boys’ arm, though he let go with a jolt as if the touch burned him as soon as he’d realized what he’d done.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to-!”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You can keep hanging onto me, if you want.”

Yuuki’s face was already red before, but it felt like it was on fire at this point, quickly looking away and just shaking his head. Again, he’s left wondering how he can just say these things without feeling even a twinge of embarrassment… Or maybe it was Yuuki who was being weird for taking it that way in the first place. They were both guys, after all, it’s not like Kurusu could’ve meant anything by it, especially towards him… Thankfully, their stop had finally come up, and he practically jumped off once the doors opened- much to Kurusu’s amusement.

“Were you holding your breath that whole time?” His friend questioned, an indecipherable glint in those gray eyes of his. “Your face is super red.”

“Uh- yeah! I just, um, I g-get so nervous in crowded spaces like that that I forget to breathe sometimes!” It’s a stupid lie, really, but it seems it’s dumb enough to work, the other boy just chuckling quietly and shaking his head, like he found it endearing somehow, though Yuuki couldn’t understand how it was anything more than humiliating.

“Heh, is that so?” He tilted his head curiously, before giving him a soft smile. “Well, the train won’t be as busy on our way home. We wouldn’t want you passing out, would we?”

“Y-yeah, that’s good…” Yuuki let out a sigh of relief, shaking his head as if trying to shake off all those strange feelings that had rushed through him on the train. “Anyways! Let’s go! You, uh… You lead the way!”

“Right, right. Just follow me.”

Yuuki stayed close as they weaved their way through the busy Harajuku streets, trying not to get lost in the sea of people- there’s some part of him that wonders if Kurusu would still let him hold onto his arm like he offered on the train, but… No, stop thinking about stupid things like that! That’s something couples do, not friends… And that’s all they were, all they’d ever be. Friends.

It was hard to stay focused, though- there was so much to look at, themed restaurants and wild fashion around every corner. It wasn’t his first time in Harajuku, not when he’d lived in Tokyo for so long, but still- he didn’t come here very often, so it was still somewhat fascinating to him. He always envied those who had the confidence to dress the way they wanted, especially when he was here… Once he made it big, he’d be able to dress however he wanted without fear of being judged, right? Maybe then he’d go shopping here…

“It’s right over here.” Kurusu’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts once again, guiding him over to a busy crepe stand, decorated in pink with more flavors on the menu than Yuuki could’ve ever imagined. No wonder this place was so popular…

“Wow, that’s… That’s a lot!” Yuuki laughed, before quickly correcting himself, hoping he didn’t offend the other in any way. “But it looks good! Great, even! It’s just going to be hard to decide…”

“Haha, yeah, I get what you mean. There’s almost too many options…” He shrugged, sending a glance his way as he observed the menu. “But I wasn’t really sure what you’d like, so… I wanted to pick a place that’d have something for you, no matter what you’re into.”

“Oh-! Well, thanks for thinking of me…” He ignored the heat that was rising to his cheeks once again, instead deciding to focus on choosing something to eat. “I’m not picky at all though, so you really didn’t have to worry about that, heh.”

“Mm, good to know.”

The two stepped in line, Kurusu insisting that Yuuki go first with a sly “After you, manager” that made his heart skip a beat. The good thing about the line being so long was that it gave them plenty of time to think about what they wanted. When they finally got to the front of the line, the smell wafting from the order window was making his stomach growl- damn, he was hungrier than he realized…

“I’ll have the strawberry chocolate crepe, please!” Yuuki chirped, before reaching into his bag, rummaging around for his wallet- but before he could find it, Kurusu slid his own cash across the counter, adding a crepe of his own to the order and grabbing the ticket.

“Wh- hey! You didn’t have to do that! I’m not totally broke, you know…” He insisted, but the other just shrugged, pulling him gently to the waiting area.

“Just think of it as a thank you for all your hard work.” He was so nonchalant about it, cool as always, acting like it was nothing at all. In contrast, Yuuki was still struggling for words, flustered by the unexpected act of kindness- this was the first time anyone had paid for his meal, actually… How was Kurusu so smooth about all of this? Was this something he did regularly, or…?

“Well-! Thank you!” He squeaked out, but it still didn’t feel right. Even after wishing for his gratitude for so long, now that he actually had it… He just couldn’t accept it. “Still, the Phansite is the least I can do for you… I’ll- I’ll work twice as hard as payment!”

“Don’t sell yourself short, you work plenty hard already.” Kurusu wasn’t budging, though, shrugging off his insistence once again. “Plus, friends do things for each other without expecting anything in return, yeah? You don’t need to worry about it.”

There it was again, that confirmation that they really were friends… He’d had trouble believing it at first, but hearing it now his heart just soared. Before he could say anything about it, their ticket number was called, and the raven-haired boy went to grab both of their crepes for them, handing Yuuki’s to him with a smile that practically made him melt.

“Strawberries and chocolate, huh? Can’t go wrong with that.” He commented, and Yuuki was acutely aware of the way those gray eyes watched him as he took his first bite. “Well, how is it?”

“It’s delicious! Thanks again for buying, heh.” He nodded cheerily, before giving the other a curious look. “What did you get?”

“Salted caramel.” Kurusu replied simply, taking a bite before holding it out to him. “Wanna try?”

What was he trying to do here, kill him? Send him into cardiac arrest? Not that Yuuki was going to refuse, but still.

“Y-yeah, sure, it looks good! And you can have a bite of mine, too.” He holds out his own crepe to Kurusu, and they swap for a moment- he’s definitely not thinking about if this counts as an indirect kiss or not. That would be weird. “Wow, yours is pretty good, too! Though I think I still like mine better…”

“Mm, yeah, same here. Just means you made a good choice.” Kurusu nodded, before jerking his head towards one of the small tables that had opened up. “How about we sit down?”

The conversation mostly fell silent as they focused on eating, though with Kurusu sitting right across from him, it was a little hard not to stare… There was just something so captivating about him, even when he had a bit of whipped cream stuck to the side of his mouth. Maybe it was just because of his admiration for him, but he just seemed so… Perfect, even when he wasn’t trying. No matter what he did, he always kept his cool, and he always looked good doing it. He really was the most amazing person Yuuki knew…

---------------------------

By the time they finished up in Harajuku the sky was beginning to darken, light blue turning to shades of orange and purple as they headed back to the train station. There weren’t nearly as many people this time, thankfully, and they got off at the same stop- they didn’t live in the same neighborhood or anything, but apparently they were in the same area. Yuuki gripped the strap of his bag tightly as he prepared to say goodbye and go their separate ways- though it seemed Kurusu had other plans.

“Hey, before you go… There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” He stopped him once they were further away from the station, on a quiet street away from all the people. He looked more serious than he had all day, and Yuuki could feel his stomach tying itself in knots.

“Oh… What is it?”

“Well, it’s just… About you. And the Phansite.” Kurusu started, and for the first time in a long while, he was the one who seemed awkward. “Like I said before… I appreciate all of your hard work. We all do, but lately I can tell how much of a toll it’s taking on your health. On you.”

“What do you mean?” Of course, Yuuki already knew what he meant, and he was sure playing dumb wasn’t going to help him much- but he didn’t like where this conversation was headed. He could already feel the giddy high he’d been riding from earlier start to turn to cold dread.

“You hardly eat anything, for starters. Even when you do remember to bring your lunch you barely touch it, and I’m guessing you probably don’t have much time for breakfast either, since you’re running late most of the time. Not to mention that I rarely see you not working on the site, even though you clearly need some rest…” He paused, taking a hesitant step closer. “Look, I know you don’t want to hear a lecture from me, but… I’m just worried about you, okay? All of us have been for these last few weeks.”

Ah. So that’s what this was about. It really was all just out of pity in the end, wasn’t it…? All of this was just to butter him up so he’d listen, not because he really wanted to spend time together. He should’ve known…

“... Why would they care?” Yuuki’s voice was quiet at first, his jaw clenching as if to try and shut himself up, but the worlds slipped through before he could stop them. He saw a pained look cross Kurusu’s face at his words, but it was true, wasn’t it? The rest of the thieves weren’t his friends. He hardly knew them. “I’m fine, anyways. It’s just been harder to keep up after the Okumura thing, that’s all. You all have more important things to worry about…”

“Mishima… We all care about you. I care about you. I just don’t want to see you overworking yourself and hurting yourself in the process. You’re going to burn out at this rate.”

Yuuki’s eyes were fixed on the concrete now, unable to meet his gaze- it hurt. It hurt so bad… He wanted those words to be true. He wanted that more than anything- for people to care about him. To notice when he was suffering and pick him back up again, to be important to someone… But he knew it wasn’t true. He knew nobody really cared, and that’s why he needed validation and attention, needed fame, no matter what he had to do to get it.

“Mishima? Are you listening to me?”

He could hear the other still talking, but he couldn’t hear a thing over his own racing thoughts. He couldn’t stand this, the way he was looking down on him… He saw him as weak, didn’t he? Not that he could blame him, but he was trying to prove himself, damn it! If he just kept working hard and using the Phantom Thieves he could finally get what he wanted, so why did he have to get in the way? Even when he tried his best, all he got was pity… Was he really that pathetic?

“I have to go.” He spoke abruptly, turning and beginning to walk away- he couldn’t take any more of this! He wouldn’t put up with it, he wouldn’t-

“Wait.”

He felt a hand grab his wrist, grip tight, and suddenly he was back at school- back inside his office. ‘Special practice’, he’d called it. Special, one-on-one practice. His entire body throbbed with fresh bruises, and the coach could rest easy knowing most of these would be hidden under his school uniform- and even if someone saw, what were they going to do? Nobody spoke up for any of the other team members. Who was going to speak up for someone like Yuuki Mishima? Someone so- “Useless. Weak. Pathetic.” He could feel hot breath on his face, and despite knowing he should be used to this by now, he still trembled, still felt the tears wetting his cheeks at the onslaught of abuse. “Crying already? This is nothing! No wonder you’re letting the team down.” That’s right, he deserved this. He wasn’t good enough. He was never going to be good enough… How long the beatings would continue for, he wasn’t sure. His mind went to another place, everything blurring together like some horrible nightmare he was already forgetting the details of…

“At least this way you’ll be of use to someone. You should be grateful.”
Right. That’s all he wanted, wasn’t it? If someone saw him fit to use, then…

“... shima? Mishima, are you okay?”

A different voice, one that was softer, kinder, snapped him back to reality. School ended hours ago. Kamoshida had been locked away for months. He was just walking home after hanging out with Kurusu… A shuddering sigh of relief left him as he realized it was over, wiping the tears and looking back to the other boy, who looked… Horrified, to say the least. Great… He went and ruined everything again, didn’t he? He must think he’s a total freak.

“I… I’m sorry. I should’ve known better than to…” Kurusu fumbled for words, that calm, cool mask of his finally breaking. “Let’s… How about we go back to LeBlanc?”

---------------------------

The walk to the coffee shop was silent and awkward, neither party knowing what to say. Akira couldn’t help internally cursing at himself as they walked- how could he screw up this badly? He just wanted to treat Mishima to a nice day off and hopefully get through to him about his concerns, and he’d ended up giving him a panic attack… Feeling bad about it wasn’t going to solve anything, though. For now, he just had to do his best to make up for it.

Luckily, Sojiro had already left for the night by the time they arrived, Akira guiding Mishima to one of the empty booths before moving behind the counter to make him a drink. Coffee would be no good this late in the day, so… He decided on tea, pouring him a hot cup of it and setting it down in front of him. Mishima accepted the drink silently, taking a small sip as Akira sat down across from him. Shit… What was he supposed to say now?

“... I’m sorry for freaking out back there,” Mishima piped up before he could think of anything, guiltily staring down into his mug. “You’d think I’d be over it by now, haha…”

His laugh is obviously forced, and Akira just shakes his head, frowning even more at the apology.

“No, no, it’s okay. You have nothing to be sorry for. You don’t need to be ‘over it’ already, either. You’ve been through a lot, so…” He trailed off, fidgeting awkwardly with his hands. “I’m the one that should be sorry. I won’t do something like that again, I promise.”

“It’s fine… I mean, how could you be expected to know something like that?” He just shrugs, continuing to drink his tea, and Akira can’t help but notice how he can’t seem to look him in the eye, looking anywhere but him. “Thanks for the tea… But I should probably get going soon, huh?”

“You can stay as long as you need to.” Akira assured him, but within a few short minutes Mishima had already finished off his tea and stood up, bidding him a short goodbye as he disappeared back into the night. Akira, on the other hand, couldn’t move from his seat, the guilt in his chest twisting like a knife now that he was gone. Everything was going so well at first, but he still ended up just hurting him more in the end… He couldn’t let this be it. He had to keep trying. He’d make this right, no matter what…

Just then, his phone buzzed, forcing him to pull himself out of the pool of misery he’d found himself dwelling in.

[Ryuji]: sooo? we goin to the palace tonight or what?
[Yusuke]: Last time, Akira said we’d go later this week.
[Yusuke]: That doesn’t necessarily mean tonight.
[Ryuji]: yeah, sure, but it COULD be tonight, right?
[Futaba]: u just wanna feel like a celeb again, don’t u? LOL
[Makoto]: Let’s make sure everyone is ready before we get ahead of ourselves.
[Ann]: I’m good to go!
[Haru]: I’m free right now as well.
[Futaba]: sure, just lemme finish this round first :P
[Futaba]: gimme a few mins and i’ll be ready!
[Makoto]: Well, Akira? Morgana? Do you want to go tonight?
[Makoto]: We can always wait if you’re not feeling up to it of course.

The thought of going back to that place so soon is a little intimidating, to say the least, especially when his emotions were already getting the better of him tonight… But at the same time, this whole incident only heightened his determination.

[Akira]: yeah, i’m fine with that.
[Akira]: i’ll talk to morgana in a second, but he’s probably ready too.
[Makoto]: Alright, good to hear. Just let us know.
[Ryuji]: hell yeah, jokers back in action!!
[Ann]: Awesome! But don’t push yourself too hard, okay?
[Futaba]: joker W
[Yusuke]: … What does that even mean?
[Haru]: I’ll start heading over now, then!

If Mishima wasn’t ready to listen to him in the real world, then… He’d just have to try and help him the only other way he knew how.

Chapter Text

There aren’t as many flashing lights and screaming fans when the Phantom Thieves entered the palace this time, the crowd seeming a lot calmer now that the shadow wasn’t around to rile them up. It’s a relief, honestly, Akira already felt on edge as they made their way to the doors- all the noise and pushing and begging for even just a glance from their beloved admin certainly wouldn’t have helped his nerves in the slightest.

“Whew, thank god he wasn’t out there this time. All that cheering and paparazzi seriously gave me a headache last time…” Ann sighed as they stepped back inside the lobby, sharp eyes glancing around for any signs of danger. "Looks mostly the same in here..."

It wasn’t a major change, but Akira did notice one thing that made his heart sink- there were more newspapers pinned to the walls this time around. Newspapers about the Phantom Thieves’ first target, a high school coach confessing to abuse and turning himself in… It made him nauseous, knowing he’d brought Kamoshida back to the front of Mishima’s mind in such a major way. Though, even more unsettling was the fact that his face and name were scribbled or even cut out in every single article- and the fact that some of the articles spoke of the former medalist dying in prison, having endured the same abuse he put his students through at the hands of his fellow inmates… There hadn’t been any news of how Kamoshida was faring in prison in the real world, so he could only assume this was a manifestation of Mishima’s thoughts and feelings- what he wanted to happen.

Had he always desired this kind of brutal karmic revenge? Was it something he’d been actively hoping for this entire time? Or was this just how he thought upon being reminded of his trauma, now that he had a palace?

“Ugh, just seein’ anything about that bastard pisses me off.” Ryuji huffed from right next to him, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I think that’s th’ only thing that’s new down here, though… Wanna go upstairs? Check out the Phantom Thieves museum?”

The blonde wiggled his eyebrows at Akira, clearly trying to lighten the mood- but nothing seemed to get rid of that aching dread in his chest. He just nodded, trying to swallow his anxiety as they made their way back towards the stairs. This time, no puppet-like cognitions appeared, now simply guarded by two weaker shadows, which were no issue for the Phantom Thieves to get past. The stairway was dim, only lit by neon signs and some lights on the individual steps, but luckily it didn’t take them long to reach the second floor.

The Phantom Thieves Exhibition Hall certainly had a different aesthetic from any other museum Akira had been in. Similarly dim lighting only made the glass cases stand out more, glowing with a gentle light, neatly organized into several rows. There were also several larger display cases to the left of the glowing rows with “recreated Phantom Thief outfits”, which weren’t all that accurate, but that came as no surprise considering Mishima had never seen what they looked like within Mementos. The section to the right seemed to focus more on paintings and artwork, though again the frames had a more sci-fi look to them than one would normally expect, neon and fading from color to color without any discernible pattern. There were several plaques with long paragraphs of information about the thieves on the walls and below several of the displays, though they appeared more like screens, bright text on black backgrounds that occasionally flickered and glitched. There were a small number of cognitive fans on this floor, but they all seemed to be distracted, following a tour given by a hologram.

“Wow, this definitely seems like your kinda place, huh, Oracle?” Ryuji mused, giving her a teasing nudge with his elbow.

“Oh, please. I mean I guess it looks kinda cool, which makes sense given it’s based on a website, but the fanboy-ness of it all? Not for me.” Futaba snorted, raising an eyebrow as she got a closer look at the costumes. “Man, these are pretty far off… But A for effort, I guess.”

Akira’s mind quickly tuned out the chattering of the others as he made his way to the glowing display cases, moving as if pulled by some gravitational force. The soft white light reminded him of the moon and stars in a way, but it was what was inside of the cases that truly caught his interest. Each case contained one item, ranging from things directly tied to the Phantom Thieves, like their first calling card, to things that were very personal to Mishima. A volleyball, a first aid kit, Akira’s leaked record, and… Were those the crepes they just ate? Stepping closer, he couldn’t help his curiosity as he read the plaque:

‘The amazing leader of the Phantom Thieves was the first person to buy dessert for our wonderful admin! His generosity makes him not only a hero as a Phantom Thief, but a hero in day to day life!’

A frown creased his face as gray eyes scanned the words over and over- he was glad that it clearly made Mishima happy, but… It was strange how much of a pedestal he put Akira on. Treating him to something to eat didn’t make him a hero, it was just something friends did for each other… Though now that he knew nobody had ever done that for him, he was starting to understand his idolization. After all, if he’d never had a good friend before- or any friends at all- it was no wonder why he would hold Akira in such high regard… Still, understandable as it was, it wasn’t a healthy mindset… Hopefully he’d be able to get through to him soon.

“This art gallery is pretty cool though, huh?” Ann commented from the other side of the room, earning her a snicker from Futaba.

“Yeah, I guess it’s pretty alright in terms of fanart.” The ginger shrugged with a cheeky grin, before turning her attention over to the artist of the group, raising an eyebrow at him. “What do you think, Fox? Is it up to snuff?”

“I think the symbolism is quite interesting, actually.”

He didn’t seem to catch onto her sarcasm, tilting his head as he walked along the wall, taking a close look at each painting. Akira's eyes couldn't help but follow once he picked up on the conversation, despite how he'd tried to avoid looking at them at first. The clear brushstrokes of oil paint emphasized the curls of his hair, messy in all the right ways, perfect without having to try. Circles of bright light often separated his head from deep red backgrounds, and in others the light seemed to come from his heart instead, but they were all similar in demeanor. In every single piece he had a gentle power about him, strong enough to destroy whoever stood in his way, but rather than raising a fist, his arms were outstretched, his heart was open- as if to say 'you're safe now.'

“There’s something… Religious about many of these, especially when it comes to how Joker is portrayed. Sometimes he’s drawn with a halo, other times the pose is just reminiscent of famous biblical art, but… No matter the details, there’s always something divine about him in these pieces. He seems to be some kind of holy savior…”

Akira’s unease only increased as he listened to Yusuke talk, wondering just how much Mishima truly did idolize him, but much to his relief his rambling about the meaning of the paintings was quickly interrupted.

“Yooo, check this out!” Ryuji exclaimed with a grin, pointing to one of the display cases eagerly. “It’s the flyer from Operation Maidwatch! Haha, man, good times, right?”

“Ha, yeah, right. Even though both of you hid from the maid the entire time.” Akira chuckled, rolling his eyes a little. As ridiculous as it was, he was glad for the distraction.

“Aw, come on, don’t bring that up!” The blonde huffed, rolling his eyes and leaning on the glass case. “Next time, dude, next time-”

It seemed like he put a little too much weight on the glass, however, because the soft glow of the case changed to a harsh red, alarms abruptly sounding and startling the Phantom Thieves out of their casual chit-chat. And, more worrisome than the alarms themselves- four security guards making a B-line right for them.

“Didn’t you read the sign, Skull?” Ann shook her head, pointing to the words bolded beneath every plaque. “Do not touch the displays.”

“Shit, uh… Oops?” Ryuji shrugged, clearly not taking her scolding to heart. “Whatever, I was gettin’ bored here anyways! Let’s kick some ass, yeah?”

---------------------------

While the security guards weren’t as tough as the cognitive Yusuke they encountered the other day, taking four on at once proved to be strenuous. Still, had they been able to fight it out until the end, Akira knew that without a doubt they would’ve been able to come out on top without getting too hurt- however, they didn’t get the chance to finish the shadows off. Out of nowhere, a voice caused the shadows to immediately halt, frozen in place like statues.

“Didn’t I instruct you not to fight in here? These displays are fragile, you know.” Shadow Mishima glared at the guards from the top of the next stairway, who immediately returned to their stiff standing positions. “Ugh, I swear you’re all useless sometimes… If you would just listen to me, we wouldn’t have incidents like these, now would we?”

“I’m sure they didn’t mean anything by it.” The cognitive Akira was still glued to his side, lips close to his ear as he spoke, gloved hand rubbing his arm soothingly. “They were just trying to protect what’s precious to you, dear. That’s all.”

“Mm, I guess you’re right…”

Watching the two of them interact made Akira’s chest tighten, his face beginning to feel warm- it was unsettling, but there was also some other feeling he couldn’t quite place his finger on… Either way, seeing this exaggeratedly perfect version of himself be so affectionate with the shadow was… dizzying, to say the least. Still, there was no time to sort through that now, because Shadow Mishima was making his way down the steps now, golden eyes scanning over the group with a look of annoyance.

“Well, what’s all this about? Why did you have to go and create such a disturbance, hm?”

The Phantom Thieves were collectively still and silent, like deer in headlights. Nobody quite knew what to do or say in this situation- worst case scenario, they’d have to fight the shadow and cognition head on, and god only knows how strong the two of them combined would be… There was no way they're ready for that yet.

“... My friend was so interested in the display that he forgot not to touch it.” Akira finally spoke up, using all of his mental strength to keep his cool, looking Mishima’s shadow in the eye despite the way it made him want to shrink back. “We’re deeply sorry for the trouble we’ve caused here.”

“Ah, I see.” Those words seemed to sway the shadow, the look in his eyes lightening to amusement rather than anger. “Just some overenthusiastic fans, huh? I should have expected as much… Especially with those costumes. Your own interpretation of the Phantom Thieves outfits, I’m guessing?”

“Uh, we are the Phantom Thieves, dude.” Ryuji muttered, earning him a harsh elbow to the side from Ann, though thankfully Shadow Mishima didn’t seem to notice him in the slightest, attention locked onto Akira and Akira alone.

“Yeah, that’s right…” Akira hesitantly agreed, his heart pounding in his chest as the shadow drew closer and closer to him. He half expected him to spring a surprise attack on them, but once he was close enough all he did was run his fingers along his jacket, seeming to take in every detail with a mysterious smile.

“I can tell you put a lot of work into these. You’re dressed up as the leader of the Phantom Thieves, correct? Hm. Color me impressed.” He hummed, before his eyes snapped back up to meet Akira’s once again, appreciation turning to smugness. “Well, you’ve all gotten to meet me and my darling Akira up close and personal for free- so how about you get out of here and I’ll let this little incident go for now, hm?”

At first, most of the Thieves tried to speak up, tell the shadow that they weren’t going to back down so easily (though Futaba and Ryuji had to stifle their giggles at the pet name)- but Akira cut them off with a quick ‘thank you’, turning around and walking away, glancing back at the others expectantly.

“Let’s go.”

---------------------------

“What the hell, man? Why did we just give up like that?” Ryuji complained as soon as they were back at LeBlanc, giving a disappointed sigh as he crossed his arms. “That place is seriously making you act weird, Joker- er, Akira.”

Akira could already feel the shame curling in his gut- Ryuji was right, he’d never been one to run away before. That was what always got him in trouble, his inability to walk away from something, to stand down and accept things as they were- but right now, it felt like he could only do the opposite. When it came to Mishima, something made it so incredibly hard to bear, a feeling no other shadow or palace had given him before… He couldn’t answer. He couldn’t even look his friend in the eyes.

“Give him a break, Ryuji. Imagine if it were your friend!” Ann came to his defense, though a solemn look crossed her expression as blue eyes fell to the floor. “I mean, if it were Shiho, I… I don’t think I’d be able to carry on normally either.”

“I’m not tryna give him a hard time! I’m just worried, y’know?” The blonde frowned, and Akira could feel his concerned gaze without even looking. “You’re gonna be alright, right dude?”

“... Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Akira muttered quickly, not being entirely sincere, but desperate to move past the topic. “Anyways, it’s not like we would’ve gotten anything out of fighting him now. His treasure hasn’t even manifested. It would be a hard battle with no reward… Not to mention we have no idea how strong that cognition is.”

“Yeah, you’re right… Skipping ahead like that would’ve totally doomed us. We don’t wanna fight him and his darling Akira quite yet.” Futaba agreed with a touch of sarcasm, flopping down on the couch. “But isn’t it kind of weird that he didn’t attack us right away? Like, with the other palaces we’ve been in, the shadows usually attack as soon as we run into them, but he was pretty lenient with us.”

“I was just about to mention that!” Morgana mewed from his spot on the table, blue eyes wide with curiosity. “His shadow behaves differently from the others. It’s a good thing he didn’t attack us today, but it does make me wonder just how unpredictable he’s going to be…”

“Do you think it’s because he knows we’re the Phantom Thieves? Maybe not consciously, but deep down… Maybe that’s why he’s been easy on us thus far. He doesn't want to hurt his idols...” Haru wondered aloud, letting out a nervous giggle. “Ah, the fact that he knows who we are is going to make it interesting when we eventually do fight his shadow…”

“Yeah, I’ve never really seen a situation quite like this… Not where the palace owner both knows us personally and knows we’re Phantom Thieves.” Morgana pawed at the table in thought, though it didn’t seem to trouble him too deeply. “Well, we’ll just have to see what happens, I guess. It’ll be… Interesting. In the meantime, it’s getting late- we should all get some rest, even if we didn’t go too hard in the palace today.”

“Right, it is a school night…” Makoto hummed, nodding and gathering her belongings. “Just let us know when you want to go back. And… Take care of yourself, alright?”

“... I will. Get home safe, everyone.”

Akira bid his friends goodbye as they filtered out quietly, but to be honest, he was relieved to be alone again. Even if they reassured him over and over again that it was fine, he couldn’t help but feel like he was letting them all down… He was supposed to be their leader, he was supposed to be their rock, staying strong and pulling through no matter the situation. But no matter how hard he tried to repress his emotions, something about Shadow Mishima just threw him off every time. Whether it was that cognition, how much the palace seemed to involve him, or just the simple way he felt frozen when those gold eyes locked on him… He just couldn’t explain it. What was his problem?

No matter, he’d figure out just why he was feeling this way later. The botched outing with Mishima and the palace exploration left him exhausted, physically and emotionally. For now, all he could do was crash...
---------------------------

“I’m home.”

Yuuki’s voice hardly carried through the house as he slipped his shoes off, unsure of why he even bothered to announce his return when he knew nobody would answer. His parents were probably already in bed by now… But he supposed that was a good thing. He’d rather them be asleep than feel the sting of being ignored while they were wide awake. That’s part of why he stayed out so late in the first place. After leaving LeBlanc, he hadn’t headed straight home. Instead, he wandered the streets aimlessly for quite a while, just listening to his music and trying to cool down from the humiliation of breaking down in front of his only friend like that. His parents didn’t care when he got home, really, so he could stay out as late as he wanted. It was sort of a blessing, he supposed, but it still hurt knowing the only reason he had this much freedom was because they didn’t care.

Sometimes he wondered how long it would take for them to call the police if he just decided not to come back at all. It’s not like they cared at all when he was hurt. They just told him to deal with it, for the scholarships or whatever. Maybe just for their own pride as parents, so they could brag that their son’s team went to nationals… Not that he was ever that great of a player in the first place. They never gave a shit about him, did they? They didn’t care what happened to him at all… Even if he died, they...

He scoffed to himself as he made his way to his room, not bothering to turn any of the lights on, lest he wake them up. He knew his way around well enough not to make any noise. He passed the kitchen, briefly wondering if they had left him anything for dinner- but he quickly shook off the thought. Who cares? He wasn’t hungry, not after everything that had happened today. Plus, with his declining grades, he wouldn’t be surprised if they hadn’t cooked for him. He didn’t deserve it, not when he was doing poorly in school. Not after he’d quit volleyball…

The light of his computer screen was comforting at this point, even if his work on the site was mind-numbing at times. It wasn’t just a light in the dark for him in the literal sense- it felt like the only thing in his life that he could do right. It was everything. It was the only thing that made him worth anything… And eventually, once all his hard work paid off, he’d finally get the attention he needed.

Once he got famous…
Ah, would his parents pay attention to him then?
Would they be proud?
They would want to be part of his life again, right?
Of course they’d want to claim him as their own once he was a celebrity…

He couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces when he finally got to be the one to reject them. When they were the ones being ignored and disowned. How would they like a taste of their own medicine? A wry smile formed on his lips- oh, he just couldn’t wait.

Chapter Text

Yuuki refused to meet his own gaze in the mirror as he plastered yet another band-aid on his cheek, wiping away the blood that had slid down his face with a swipe of his thumb. Everything hurt, but at least he was done now… But when he looked back at himself, even more cuts and bruises had appeared- had he just missed them at first glance…? He digs more bandages out of the box sitting on the edge of the sink, covers his face in more, more, more- until there was no Yuuki Mishima left behind it all. The thing looking back at him in the mirror was just an empty shell, a monster built from hidden scars and blood.

The real Yuuki Mishima had faded into obscurity, and nobody would even remember his face…

Yuuki woke up with a sharp gasp, sitting up with a shaky hand to his throat. Great, another nightmare… Not to mention how gross he felt from the cold sweat he’d broken into. Well, at least the dream woke him up early, he’d have time to quickly rinse off before school… But first, he had to check the Phansite. Just for a second, to make sure everything was still in order after he logged off for the night… What he saw instead when he flipped his phone over made his heart sink.

[Kurusu]: are you busy today?

Four simple words, but they made him want to curl into a ball and never show his face again. How could he ask something like that, after what happened yesterday? No, there was absolutely no way Kurusu actually wanted to see him…

[Mishima]: Yeah, sorry, I’ve got a lot of homework to catch up on…
[Kurusu]: don’t worry about it. good luck with your studies
[Kurusu]: but i just wanted to know if you wanted to talk?
[Kurusu]: about yesterday, i mean.

There it is. Again, it was just out of pity, wasn’t it? He felt obligated to make sure he was okay after he freaked out like that… Yeah, right. He wouldn’t trouble someone as important as Kurusu with his stupid feelings, especially when he had no right to still be feeling this way. He wasn’t the one that had ended up in the hospital, after all… He should be over it by now. He would get over it. He just needed to focus on his goal… Kurusu’s day would be better without him, anyways. He had plenty of better, cooler friends to hang out with without having someone like Yuuki around to ruin everything...

[Mishima]: There’s nothing to talk about, really…
[Mishima]: I’m totally fine, so don’t worry about me! :)

And with that, he closed out of his texts, decidedly for the rest of the day. Talking about it would only bring back painful memories… He just needed to move on. Bury it before it buried him. As he climbed out of bed and got ready for the day, he switched back to the Phansite. Focus on your goals, focus, focus, focus… Think of only that bright future and the past won’t be able to catch up to you again.

---------------------------

Akira let out a heavy sigh at the response he got from Mishima, running a hand through uncombed black hair as he turned his phone off. Damn it… It had only been a day, so maybe he should just calm down, it made sense that Mishima needed some time to himself after that- but he couldn’t stand the feeling that he’d unintentionally pushed Mishima away. This was when his friend needed his help the most, and now he’d already gone and scared him off…

The rest of his day at school didn’t go much better. Mishima seemed to avoid him at every turn, even going as far as to sneak off to the bathroom for the entirety of lunch, hesitant to so much as look at Akira- though it was clear he wasn’t angry at him. No, it was easy to tell that shame and embarrassment were the primary feelings driving Mishima’s actions… He couldn’t tell if that was better or worse than him just being pissed off.

Classes passed by without Akira absorbing a single piece of information, mind working overtime trying to figure out how he could fix this situation before things got any worse. Logically, he knew he should just leave things be for now, but what if that wasn’t enough? Knowing that he had a palace now made him anxious to do something- how could he make sure that this didn’t send him spiraling deeper into his obsession if he couldn’t even talk to him?

Mishima’s shadow hadn’t attacked them last time, in fact, he seemed to be more fond of him than the others… What if…?

It was risky, he knew that. He knew he should just wait to continue exploring the palace with the others, but the fact that they didn’t have a “deadline” only put him on edge. What if there really was something bad just waiting to happen, and they just didn’t know it yet? How long could this go on before it was too late? How else could he get the insight he needed to help his friend? The more he mulled it over, the more determined he became, and by the time he was on the train home he was sure in his conviction- he was going to speak to Mishima’s shadow, alone. He didn’t see the others as friends, so if it was just him, maybe he could be reasoned with…

The ride home was quiet, and Akira was thankful that Morgana opted to take a nap as soon as they got home- the cat definitely knew something was up with him, but likely figured that Akira was just in a bad mood from what had happened the previous day and needed some time alone. Good, he didn’t want him asking about what he was about to do… The moment he was sure Morgana had fallen asleep, curled up in a ball on his bed, Akira put down the homework he’d been pretending to work on and opened the MetaNav app, typing in the keywords and hitting ENTER without a second of hesitance, disappearing from LeBlanc’s attic without a trace.

---------------------------

The second he was in front of the screen-covered building, he regretted not thinking this through more. It had been on his mind all day, and yet he’d failed to form any actual plan outside of “find the shadow, try to get on his good side, and talk him into changing his ways”. Shit… Well, he was already here. He’d just have to wing it.

Luckily, sneaking around the palace without being noticed was a lot easier alone than it was with the entire group. Getting past the first floor was a breeze, but the museum was, once again, where things started getting a bit tricky. There were more guards here, and more cognitive fans milling about, following their tour guides. He’s thankful that nobody seems to acknowledge his… Unusual outfit, allowing him to blend in with the crowd without too much trouble. Still, Mishima’s shadow is nowhere to be seen, and the guards in front of the stairway to the third floor looked more heavily armed than those he’d seen previously… He couldn’t fight them alone. He just needed to get them away from their post…

Slinking behind one of the tour groups, deft hands slipped something out of one of the cognitions pockets- an autographed photo of the Phantom Thieves, in all their celebrity glory- and tucked it into one of the other guests bags, sticking out enough that it would be easy to see. He tapped the guest he’d stolen from on the shoulder, making sure it was on the same side as the person he’d framed, before ducking behind one of the displays and waiting for the chaos he was hoping for- and chaos was exactly what he got. It took a few moments, but as soon as they realized their photo had been stolen, a fight broke out between the cognitions, shouting accusations and pushing and shoving until it got violent enough for the guards to come rushing over to break it up-- Perfect.

The fight was more than enough of a distraction to allow Akira to sneak up the next set of stairs, rushed but silent as he climbed the steps, heart quickening as he entered uncharted territory, completely alone.

Unfortunately, it’s hard to see much of the third floor due to the sheer number of people packed into long, twisting lines on either side. Judging from the screen fixed on the pillar between the two lines, it looked like they were waiting for their chance to watch a fashion show of some kind, the cognitive Ann on screen appearing to be the main attraction, her finely-detailed red dress getting a roar of cheers from the crowd, both inside the auditorium and from those waiting outside. This version of Ann made sense for Mishima’s perspective, he supposed, given he didn’t know all that much about her… Maybe he caught wind of her modeling gigs and got a little starstruck. If he wanted fame, it only made sense he’d want to leverage Ann’s already established bit of notoriety…

“You just can’t get enough of this place, can you?”

A voice from way too close behind him startled Akira out of his thoughts, managing to suppress the yelp of surprise that threatened to rise from his throat as he whipped around to face the source-- Shadow Mishima. Maybe he should be relieved, given he was looking for him in the first place, but his heart still pounded uncomfortably against his ribs, taking a half-step back to put a little more space between them. The shadow watched him expectantly, a smug look on his face- whether he was just feeling triumphant about the fact Akira had returned to the palace or if he was amused by the fact he’d scared him was anyone’s guess, really.

“Um- yeah, that’s right. Even after what happened last time, I couldn’t help but come back.” Akira managed to keep his voice steady, deciding that appealing to Mishima’s ego was going to be the easiest way to get a private conversation with him. He saw the way he basked in the attention from the crowd before- if he just gave him the attention he craved, then…

“Mm, well, I can’t blame you. My creation does have a certain pull to it, doesn’t it? It’s the perfect place for any Phantom Thieves fan… Especially a fanatic like you.” The shadow chuckled lowly, looking him up and down. “Still wearing the costume, I see?”

“Yeah, well… I wouldn’t be the Phantom Thieves’ biggest fan if I didn’t show my dedication like this, would I?” It’s total bullshit, of course, but he can see the shadow’s golden eyes sharpen at that, that sly smile on his face only growing wider.

“Oh, really? You’re their #1 fan, huh?” It almost sounds like a challenge, as if he wanted to prove that no, he was their biggest fan, and Akira is really starting to question his decision to come here alone as the shadow comes closer- but yet again, he doesn’t act on that subtle threat. “Well, I guess it’s flattering that you wear your love for the Thieves on your sleeve- literally.” He pauses, eyes scanning over him once more, slower this time. “... It looks good on you, too, so I guess I can’t blame you for wanting to wear it whenever you can.”

Akira can feel heat rise to his cheeks at the comment, but he just blames it on his nerves. “Thank you. I’m glad you think so.” There’s a silence in their conversation, and for a second he can see the shadow’s interest fading- he needed to keep him hooked, and fast. “... Though, as much as I love the Thieves, it was actually you I was looking for.”

It works like a charm, Mishima’s shadow perking up instantly, though his genuine excitement was hidden behind a wall of smug confidence. “Is that so? Ah, is that why you’re not with your little friends this time? You wanted to meet with me personally, hm?”

“That’s right.” He agreed with a quick nod, but it’s not enough. The shadow is pleased, but not entirely convinced, just shrugging and casting a glance to the crowd of fans.

“Well, as flattering as that is, I’m a very busy man, you know.” He sighed, beginning to turn away. “I’ve already got so many interviews and meetings lined up for today, so you’ll have to wait for another time, I’m afraid.”

And yet, despite his insistence that he didn’t have time for Akira, he stayed put, looking back at him as if he was waiting for something- ah, so that’s how it was. If he wanted Mishima’s attention, he was going to have to beg for it.

“Please, just this once? I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long now.” Akira insisted in the most convincing pleading tone he could muster, reaching out but not quite touching the other. “I’m not going to leave until I get to talk to you for real.”

It felt wrong to say something like that, it made him feel like some kind of stalker- but he didn’t have time to cringe or regret it, because the way Mishima’s face lit up told him everything he needed to know. It was still off-putting, knowing that he might want someone to be that obsessed with him… But for now, he could just be glad that it worked.

“Hmm, well… I guess I can make some time in my schedule, since you’re so persistent.” The shadow hummed, fully turning back around and grinning at him. “Congratulations! You’ve earned yourself a one-on-one with the Phansite’s incredible admin~ I won’t forgive you if you waste my time, okay?” He chuckles, before clapping his hands, and despite there being absolutely no way the noise could’ve been heard from the auditorium, the doll-like cognitive Akira stepped through the doors almost immediately. “My darling Akira will escort you somewhere more private. I’ll be there shortly~ Still have some autographs and such to sign, you know?”

A cold, pale hand grabbed Akira’s arm before he could respond, the cognition pulling him down the hall with a harsh grip. Maybe he could allow himself to breathe a sigh of relief now that he’d secured a meeting with the shadow, but honestly, his anxiety was only growing as he was led into a private elevator, taking note of the ID card his cognitive self scanned in order to access it. The ride up was dead silent, as it seemed that the doll-like cognitive Akira didn’t have any interest in speaking to anyone but Mishima, and honestly, Akira himself didn’t want to try striking up a conversation with him anyways. The cognition's entire existence made him uneasy, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear his own voice respond to him.

The elevator ride felt much longer than it actually was due to the thick tension in the air, riding all the way to the top floor before the doors slid open. This floor seemed to be a lot smaller than the rest, and the decorating was much different, dark wood beneath their feet and small, dim chandeliers hanging from the hallway ceiling. The walls were covered with a dark red ornate wallpaper, with the occasional painting here and there being the only sign that this was the same building he’d been in before. The door at the end of the hall was just as fancy, however the garish gold star in the center of the door- embellished with Yuuki Mishima’s name, of course- clashed with the rest of the decor, making it clear that despite the more sophisticated atmosphere, this belonged to the same fame-obsessed shadow as the rest of the palace.

“Come in.” The cognition finally spoke, holding the door open for him. Those gray eyes were cold and glassy as they watched Akira make his way inside the room, which appeared to be a lavish penthouse, though he didn’t have much time to take it all in before he was directed to an expensive loveseat, sitting down right in the middle of it. There was a similar couch across from the one he was resting on, an intricately designed coffee table sitting between the two seats. This must be where he conducted his more private interviews… The cognitive Akira, eerily enough, didn’t sit down- he just stood behind the opposite couch, hands behind his back, watching him, waiting… It gave him the creeps more than anything else he’d encountered so far.

The penthouse was almost a parody of how the rich and famous lived, with how obnoxiously expensive and ornate every piece of furniture was. A massive version of the same chandeliers from the hallway hung from the center of the ceiling, vases overflowed with flowers (from fans, maybe?), large windows allowed for a perfect view of the ever-present crowd below… But the most attention-grabbing decoration of all was the massive portrait that hung in the back of the room, between two converging sets of dark stairs, partially obscured by the cognitive Akira’s position but still visible due to the sheer size of it. It was a portrait of Mishima, of course, but he wasn’t alone- the cognition was included as well, and the pose seemed rather… Odd, to say the least. Mishima sat in an elegant chair, one that could honestly be mistaken for a throne, and behind him stood Akira, which wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary if it weren’t for the chain in Mishima’s hand… The same chain connected to the choker his cognition was wearing in this particular piece.

“Welcome! I’m glad to see you’ve already made yourself comfortable.”

Akira forced himself to tear his eyes away from the painting and focus back on the shadow, who had arrived at last, sitting down across from him and crossing his legs. The cognition’s cold eyes seemed to warm in his presence, slender fingers running through short navy hair. Despite the fact that the shadow clearly took good care of himself, his hair never seemed to want to behave… It would be endearing, if this were the Mishima he knew.

“Well, I’m sure you have plenty of questions you want to ask, so go ahead~”

The Phantom Thief internally cursed at himself, having been too fixated on that portrait to even consider what he should ask the shadow… He can feel the panic rise in him again, mind racing for something to ask, something that would give him some insight into Mishima’s mindset without seeming suspicious- he’s eternally grateful for his ability to keep his cool in these situations, pursing his lips as he reminded himself that all of this- as grandiose as it was- was still representative of the Phantom Aficionado Website. He should concentrate on that, at least to start with.

“Hm… I guess I’ve always wondered how all of this started. Surely even someone as amazing as you had to build something like this up over time, right? It wasn’t always like this. What was the original purpose of the Phansite?”

The shadow looks a little taken aback by the question at first, mouth falling open ever-so-slightly as he took a moment to think about it, as if he’d forgotten in the midst of all the fame and fortune. Once he remembers, his gold eyes shine, a confident smile on his lips as he leans back in his seat.

“Ah, right… That was so long ago, but how could I forget something that changed my life so drastically?” He laughed a bit, shaking his head to himself. “Believe it or not, in the very beginning, the Phantom Thieves really had nothing to do with me. I just made this website as a way to honor the people who had saved me, and hopefully spread the word about their good deeds to other people… But then, as more people started using the website and talking amongst themselves, talking about whose hearts they’d like to see changed- I saw an opportunity. It could be more than just something to bolster their reputation- this could be a real tool for the Phantom Thieves themselves! I already knew who the leader of the Phantom Thieves was- my classmate at the time, my lovely Akira- so getting in touch about this was no issue. After that, it became something of a sanctuary for Phantom Thief fans everywhere to ask for their help. It felt so good to know that the website I had created was actually helping people, you know? It made me feel like I could make a difference in this world… Ah, but that’s not where it ended. Even after becoming a useful tool for the Thieves, there was still more room to grow. Expand.”

Akira watched him carefully as he spoke- the shadow wasn’t really looking at him, not anymore. No, that faraway look in his eyes made it seem more like he was reliving it all. Akira may as well have not existed at all in that moment.

“I know it’s probably hard to believe now, but I was a real nobody when I first started this place! I’m not kidding, nobody took me seriously or even looked at me… I didn’t have a voice at all, and for a while, I was content with that. I’d accepted my place… But once the Phansite started to get big, I knew this was my chance! My chance to be heard by somebody, my chance to become more than some loser that nobody knew existed… So, I decided to become a bigger presence on the website as the admin. I worked so hard to moderate it all on my own every night, and on top of all that, I did everything I could to glamorize the Phantom Thieves and spread the word. And my hard work paid off! They became more famous than any of those other fake, self-absorbed celebrities that do nothing for the world… And as their manager, when they got popular, so did I. I’m sure you know the rest…”

Mishima’s shadow finally seems to snap out of his monologue, blinking a few times before laughing again, shrugging as if to brush off everything he’d just said. Brush off the admittance that at one point in time, he’d been a zero.

“Ah… I’ve been talking for a while, haven’t I? Well, I’m sure you don’t mind. You’re the one who asked, after all, and I probably gave you more information than any other reporter… so you’re happy, aren’t you?”

Akira just nodded- that was about what he’d expected, he supposed, but to hear it in Mishima’s own words… It made him wonder how far he could push this, how much more he could get the shadow to tell him, if he just kept appealing to his need to be listened to.

“Yeah, that was very interesting to hear. It is surprising to hear that you weren’t a part of the operation from the very beginning, considering how things are now…” Given that the shadow seemed to run every aspect of the Phantom Thieves lives here, controlling them like puppets- but he wouldn’t mention that, lest he anger the shadow enough to end their conversation- or worse. “Though, I do have to wonder about the direction the Phansite took… It seems like there was more of a focus on gaining attention later down the line. Did fame ever take priority over saving people?”

He can tell right away that the question ticks Mishima off a little, the corner of his lips twitching into a scowl for just a moment- but as quickly as it appeared it was concealed behind a friendly mask, although his smile was less genuine than it had been before.

“No, of course not. I don’t see what that has to do with anything…” He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I mean, it’s possible to do both, isn’t it? No- I already proved that it is. The website helped so many people in the past, and it will always continue to do so… But it’s not wrong to want recognition for the good you’re doing, is it? Wanting people to give you some credit doesn’t suddenly take away the help these people are receiving. Why do fame and charity have to be separated? At the end of the day, if innocent people were still saved, why does it matter if I used it to become famous?”

“... I see. You make a good point.” Akira concedes as much as he wants to keep pressing the matter, sensing that things wouldn’t end well for him if he didn’t back down now. He shouldn’t question his priorities anymore, but rather… “Why was it so important for you to be in the public eye, though? I’m not saying it’s wrong or anything, of course not- but I’m just curious. I think everyone yearns for it to a degree, but not just anyone would work as hard for fame as you did.”

Mishima’s expression makes him wonder for a moment if he still managed to screw it up with this question, glowing eyes gone wide and eyebrows raised in a look of total shock. He looked completely baffled that Akira would even ask that, like the answer was so incredibly obvious that to think he didn’t know already was just ridiculous, but he eventually regained his footing, chuckling under his breath as he shook his head again.

“Haha… Why? Isn’t it obvious? I told you, I used to be a total loser before the Phantom Thieves… I was invisible.” His voice sounds bitter at first, but trails into something that sounds more like a prayer as he continues. “I wanted people to see me. I wanted people to hear me and take it to heart… I wanted as many people as possible to care about me to make up for all that time I spent suffering alone. And nobody would’ve so much as given me a second thought if I didn’t force myself into the spotlight.”

There’s a moment of silence, the shadow’s eyes fixed on him with a look he hadn’t quite seen before- he looked desperate, searching Akira’s own eyes for a shred of validation, hoping that he would tell him what he wanted to hear- that he was right. But he can’t quite do that, can he? He’s trying to change his heart, not confirm his distorted beliefs…

“I understand… But you know, I don’t think this was the only way. Even if you never became famous…” He leaned forward, mustering all the confidence he could into his next words. “I still would’ve liked you. I still would’ve found you interesting. In fact… I think I might like this side of you more than the one you show to the other fans.”

There’s a light scoff at that, the shadow’s eyes rolling in disbelief- but despite the fact he clearly wasn’t buying it, he seems to at least be flattered, pale cheeks darkening just enough for Akira to notice. Even if he didn’t believe him, maybe he’d still gotten through to him in some way…
“You’re just saying that to get on my good side.” He mutters, before his expression softens. “But… Thanks anyways. Even if it’s not true, it’s nice to hear.”

Akira doesn’t have time to argue the sincerity of his words before Shadow Mishima stood up, clapping his hands together like he had before. Without saying anything the cognitive Akira nodded, before walking over to the door and holding it open once more.

“Well, it looks like our time is up now. I can’t just spend all day talking to you, you know.” He stated simply, jerking his head towards the exit.

“I guess this is goodbye, then. Thank you for your time.” He began to make his way towards the door, but despite his insistence that Akira leave, the shadow stopped him one last time.

“Before you go- I never got your name.” It’s not a question, but Mishima clearly expects him to answer. Akira can’t help but smile a little despite himself- this just proved that he’d made some progress here today, didn’t it?

“You can call me Joker.” He can see the shadow raise a questioning eyebrow at that, but he doesn’t ask, just smiling back at him as he escorted him to the door.

“What an unusual name… Well, it was good talking to you, Joker. I have to admit that I enjoyed your company more than most… You really remind me of someone, you know that?” There’s a glint of something Akira can’t quite place in his eyes as he gives him a light push out the door, the genuine smile he’d had on before becoming sly and mischievous as he began to close the heavy wooden door.

“Come visit me again, won’t you?”

Chapter Text

“Akira! Where did you run off to? I was worried about you!” Morgana’s concerned (and slightly annoyed) meows were the first thing to greet Akira when he appeared back in LeBlanc’s attic, the cat skittering to his feet and glaring up at him. “You obviously went to the Metaverse- what, were you running around Mementos alone or something?”

Honestly, he didn’t want to admit to what he’d been up to, knowing he was never going to hear the end of it from Morgana, but then again… Maybe he’d understand. He shouldn’t lie to his teammates, anyhow. Plus, he already knew he’d gone into the Metaverse- although, going into a palace alone was far worse than what Morgana had assumed…

“Not Mementos. I went to Mishima’s palace.” He stated matter-of-factly, hoping that maybe his teammate wouldn’t freak out as much if he acted like it was no big deal- of course, this backfired almost immediately, black fur bristling as blue eyes became saucers.

“You what?!” His voice was shrill for a moment, blinking a few times in disbelief. “Are you serious? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?! No, I know you know- what the hell were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that?! You could’ve been seriously hurt!”

“I know, I know, it was stupid… But I wanted to talk to Mishima, and he hasn’t been responding to me at all, so… I thought since his shadow hadn’t attacked us before, maybe he’d be willing to have a chat with me.” He explained, and the cat seemed to calm down a little bit, though he still looked thoroughly annoyed. “If I could just change his heart that way, then…”

“… Well, judging from the fact you came back in one piece, I’m guessing it worked.” Morgana eventually sighed, shaking his head a little bit. “I’m still not happy with you, doing something so rash and risky, but… I can’t deny how intrigued I am. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a situation quite like this before…”

“Yeah, it took some convincing, but we ended up having a pretty long conversation.” Akira shrugged, internally relieved that it didn’t sound like Morgana was going to lecture him further. “He asked me to come back sometime, so I think it’s safe to say he favors me to some extent…”

“I’m both shocked and totally not surprised…” The cat rolled his eyes, a hint of a laugh in his voice. “I mean, it’s you. Even if he doesn’t consciously know who you are, maybe he can tell it’s you, deep down. If anyone could change his heart like that, it’s you. Not that I can say for sure it’ll work, but it’s looking a little more promising now!”

Akira tried to ignore any sort of implications Morgana’s words might have considering Mishima’s feelings towards him— it makes his chest twist uncomfortably, something pulling at his heart the second he even begins to consider such things. Now wasn’t the time for that— he needed to focus on helping his friend before anything else.

“So, am I in the clear now?” He let a mischievous grin cross his face for a moment, a little amused by the irritated lashing of Morgana’s tail.

“Don’t get me wrong, it was still an idiotic move! I mean seriously, did you even plan ahead, or did you just go on impulse, all worked up from being ignored all day?” He hissed, before his anger faded into concern. “… You know, I’ve noticed you’ve been acting a bit strange since this all started, and this is really the cherry on top… Are you sure you’re okay, Akira?”

Ah, that put out the sparks of triumph within him in record time.

“I’m just worried about him, that’s all. He’s my friend, so…” He shifted uncomfortably, brushing off the question as quickly as he could. “I’ll be fine, I just want to resolve this as soon as I can.”

Seeming to sense that he wasn’t going to get anything more from the boy, Morgana relented, sparing him once last concerned glance before turning around and jumping onto his bed. “Right… I understand. I’m here if you need to talk about anything, okay?”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Morgana.”

It wasn’t long before Akira crawled into bed himself, his conversation with Mishima’s shadow echoing in his mind despite his best efforts to fall asleep. The way he described himself as a nobody, the way he talked about fame like it was the only way he could possibly be loved, the way that even with how conceited he appeared at first, he still couldn’t believe Akira when he said he’d like him either way… It hurt, to know how little he thought of himself. He had to show Mishima how much he was worth…

---------------------------

The lunch bell rang, but there was no time to even consider wasting his time eating, Yuuki pulling out his phone the second he had the chance. To be honest, he hadn’t even bothered packing lunch today- after how rude he’d been yesterday, he was sure that Kurusu was going to eat with his other friends again today, so… If he wasn’t there to worry about him, what was the point? He wasn’t hungry, anyways.

The Phansite, luckily, seemed to be business as usual. Sometimes there would be massive waves of hate comments to delete, but it seemed things were a bit calmer today- a relief, with how tired he was and how short lunch break felt. He should be able to clean everything up before class starts again…

“Working hard?”

A familiar voice startled him back to reality, eyes wide as he snapped his head towards the source: Akira Kurusu, who was already setting an extra bento box on his desk.

“You’re gonna need some fuel to keep going, you know. It’s not good to work on an empty stomach.”

“I- uh- what?” For a moment, Yuuki is so baffled that all he can do is stammer, eyes darting between the box and Kurusu. He had so many questions- how did he know he forgot to pack a lunch? And why did he still want to be around him, after the total disaster that was these past two days? Why hadn’t he ditched him yet…? “Sorry, I mean, you- this is for me?”

“Yeah, I accidentally made too much curry for just myself, so I thought I’d bring some for you.” He replied coolly, and Yuuki couldn’t help but envy his ability to act so casually with everything he did. “It’s not as good as Sojiro’s, but I hope you like it anyways.”

His heart feels like it’s going to explode. This is just like a scene from some romance manga, isn’t it? Did Kurusu have any idea what he was doing to him-? He forces himself to shove those thoughts to the back of his mind. No matter how many times he reminds himself that he shouldn’t feel this way- that he just can’t- those hopeless feelings still flood him to the point he feels like he’s drowning.

“O-oh, wow, that’s… Thank you! You really didn’t have to do that for me, you know…” He finally manages, content for once to let his phone lie face down on the desk as he unwrapped the box. Funny how quickly his attitude changed when it was Kurusu…

“It’s no problem.” The boy shrugged, smiling a little as he pulled up a chair to his desk. “Plus, out of everyone I know, I figured you probably need it the most.”

“Is that so?” Yuuki isn’t sure whether to be flustered or defensive at the comment, but he shrugs it off, because he wasn’t exactly wrong. He really hadn’t been eating much lately… “Well, I forgot to pack something today, so uh… I guess so!”

“Well, it’s a good thing I brought you something then, huh?” Kurusu smiled at him, and Yuuki had to wonder how he still looks so cool when smiling like that. Whenever he smiled he looked like a total dork…

“Yeah, seriously… I just can’t seem to remember these days, haha.” He finally opened the box, stomach growling as he was hit with the mouth-watering smell of curry. Damn, maybe he was hungrier than he thought…

“Too busy with the Phansite, right?” Kurusu commented, and he couldn’t quite discern his tone of voice, unsure if he meant it as a positive or a negative. “Maybe your folks would pack something for you if you asked?”

“Ah, I don’t think so…” Yuuki shifted awkwardly at that, heart feeling heavy at the mention of his parents. Is that something most parents would do for their kids, even at this age? “We’re, uh… we’re not really on good terms right now.”

“I see.” He seemed to notice that he didn’t really want to talk about it, and Yuuki was thankful he didn’t press him on the matter. It just felt embarrassing, to admit that even your own parents didn’t like you… “Well, you’ll have to let me know what you think. I might bring something for you more often.”

Yuuki had finally scooped up some curry, but he damn near choked on his breath before he could even take a bite.

“What? You really don’t have to-!” He squeaked, voice getting a bit higher in protest. “To go through all that trouble just for me, I mean…”

“Don’t worry about it, just eat up.” Unfazed as always, though there was a certain indiscernible glint in those steel eyes. “It’s no problem. Just something friends do for each other, yeah?”

“… Y-yeah, sure.”

Well, he can’t deny that the thought of eating Kurusu’s cooking all the time excited him, but was it really something that guys usually did for each other, as friends? He supposed he wouldn’t really know, given he never had many friends, but he doesn’t recall seeing the guys in his class bringing each other lunch… That was usually between a guy and a girl, wasn’t it…?

Stop thinking about it like that. He doesn’t like you like that. Even on the off-chance that Kurusu was interested in men, why him, when he had guys like Sakamoto and Kitagawa around? No, someone as incredible as Akira could do way better than him either way…

Thankfully, taking a bite of his lunch helped clear his mind of all those conflicting thoughts, face lighting up as soon as he tasted it. “Wow! You made it sound like you weren’t good at cooking or something, but this is really good!”

“Hey, I never said I wasn’t any good at it… Just not as good as Sojiro. Trust me, the old man can make this way better than I can.” Despite him somewhat dodging the compliment, he can tell that Akira was glad he liked it, expression softening as he dug into his own food.

“If you say so… I’ll have to try it sometime, then.” Something tells him that the fact it was Kurusu’s creation is what made it taste so good to him in the first place, though.

They fell into a comfortable silence as both of them ate- it would be something of a waste to just talk the entire time, after all- and again Yuuki could swear he heard their names, murmured between classmates. So annoying, acting like they knew anything about either of them… Looking back, he can’t believe he used to be scared of Kurusu. Sure, his criminal record made him sound like some kind of violent delinquent, but now that he knew what kind of person he truly was… It just seemed so ridiculous. He knew better now, knew that Kurusu was someone who protected and fought for the weak rather than targeting them, but he still couldn’t help but be a little angry at himself for ever believing such nonsense, and even angrier at their classmates who still insisted on viewing him as a threat, despite him doing nothing for the entirety of his time at Shujin to prove that.

If only he hadn’t leaked his records… This wouldn’t have happened if he had just stood up to Kamoshida for once. Kurusu would probably be quite popular if it weren’t for that…

Oh, well. It was their loss if they didn’t want to associate with him. They didn’t deserve to be his friend anyways. He feels a bit of pride swell in his chest at the thought, a small smile creeping onto his face. Even if he was annoyed with the others in their class, it wasn’t so bad, having Kurusu all to himself during this time… That was better than everyone stealing his attention all the time, wasn’t it? Until everyone realized how amazing Kurusu was, maybe things were okay this way… Kurusu himself certainly didn’t seem to mind. If he was bothered, he never showed it, just another thing Yuuki admired him for.

Even so, he’d show the world how incredible Akira Kurusu was someday, once he had secured his position as a star- once he’d made completely sure that there was absolutely no way he could be forgotten or left behind, made himself irreplaceable- then he’d show them all. He’d make sure he got all the praise he deserved. Everyone would see how righteous and just he was, his strength, his kindness… Or, as Yuuki was observing right now, his perfectly messy hair and piercing eyes, his subtle smile and the way his glasses framed his features… And the tiny grain of rice stuck to his face. What he would give to be the one to wipe it away…

“Is something wrong? You’re staring.”

The sound of his voice snaps him out of his daydreaming, cheeks flaring red in embarrassment at having been caught.

“Um- N-Nothing! Nothing’s wrong!” Yuuki blurted out, waving his hands dismissively before pointing to the corner of his mouth. “You just… Have a little something on your face…”

“Oh, really?” Kurusu quickly wiped the rice away, leaving Yuuki wishing it were his fingers brushing against his lips. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“Yeah, of course…” He trailed off awkwardly, desperately trying to suppress the increasingly loud and intimate thoughts storming his mind at the moment. As horrible as he felt about it, he just couldn’t keep himself from indulging in these ideas, could he…? But then again, how could he stop himself when everything Kurusu did made him like him even more?

The bell rings. There’s no more time to dwell on that.

“We’re out of time already?” Kurusu sighs, managing to throw down the last few bites of his curry before looking over at Yuuki expectantly. “Are you done with that?”

“R-right, here you go!” Still a little flustered, he quickly puts the lid back on the box and hands it back to his friend, along with the cloth it had been wrapped in. “Thank you again for the lunch, it was delicious!”

“No problem. I can’t have any member of the team going hungry, can I?” He replies with a cool smile, standing up to return to his own desk. “Talk to you later, Mishima.”

“Yeah, see ya later!”

Yuuki practically swooned at the reminder that he was considered “part of the team”, at least by their leader. He may not be a Phantom Thief himself, but he was still part of their revolution… He couldn’t afford to slack off now. He had to support them as much as he could. He had to make it up to Kurusu for ruining his social life, he had to make sure everyone recognized them for the good they all did- he had to make them all stars. For their sake and his own.

From now on, he was going to work even harder to make the Phansite perfect, just like Kurusu deserved.

---------------------------

Akira knew something was up the second he met up with the other Phantom Thieves on the school roof. The others were normally chatting amongst themselves as they waited for him to arrive, and the atmosphere was usually pretty light, like it would be for any group of friends- but it was different today. There seemed to be an air of uneasiness as they murmured quietly amongst themselves, some with a look of concern and others with a sense of annoyance.

Whatever was going on, it couldn’t be good.

“There you are! We were waitin’ on ya, dude.” Ryuji greeted him with his typical cheerful grin, but it doesn’t seem to reach his eyes this time. “So, uh… we heard about your little expedition last night, man.”

Shit. He should’ve expected Morgana to tell the others, given how out of the ordinary it was for him, but after their conversation he had been hoping he’d keep it to himself for now… He shot a quick glare at the cat, but he didn’t have time to say anything before the other thieves were speaking up.

“I can’t believe you’d do something like that!” Ann was clearly upset, blue eyes narrow and sharp. “Why didn’t you just talk to us? We would’ve gone with if it was that important to you, you know.”

“‘Twas a real stupid move, Joker.” Futaba shook her head, and while she kept her comments more lighthearted it was clear she wasn’t happy with him, either. “You’ve seriously lost your mind.”

“I don’t understand either…” Yusuke sighed, expression solemn. “Do you not trust us to handle this? You’ve never acted like this before.”

“That’s enough.” Makoto was the one to put an end to the teams questioning, crossing her arms and looking Akira up and down, as if trying to detect any lies coming from him. “We all have our grievances here, but let’s at least let him explain himself before we say anything more.”

Akira breathed a sigh of relief at that- she wasn’t on his side, she was clearly angry too, but at least she was trying to keep things fair.

“Morgana, did you just tell them I went in alone and nothing else?” He asked, and the cat just shrugged- well, as much as a feline could, anyways.

“I thought it would be better for you to explain it in your own words. I thought I might botch it if I tried to explain it myself.” He explained, flicking his tail. “Obviously I wouldn’t say that you went in for no reason at all! But they want to hear it from you, not me.”

“Right, right…” He was still a little annoyed, honestly, but he supposed it made sense. He should be the one to explain himself, it wasn’t Morgana’s job to justify his spur-of-the-moment decision.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you guys- you’re my closest friends and you’ve all proven yourselves to be capable of handling anything. But when Mishima wouldn’t respond to me yesterday I got a little desperate… And I thought that if I went by myself, I might be able to have a conversation with his shadow without fighting him, to learn more about what he’s thinking and how he’s feeling. His shadow was pretty lenient with all of us, but he seemed to favor me in particular, so…”

He didn’t realize his gaze had drifted to the floor until he looked up again and saw everyone’s eyes glued on him, looking at him expectantly.

“Well? What happened??” Ryuji leaned closer, eyes shining with intrigue.

“It worked. I managed to convince him to sit down with me and chat about some things… His motives for doing all of this, stuff like that.” He explained, scanning the expressions of his friends— some looked impressed, and others still held a look of total disbelief. He braced himself for their reactions as he continued. “I was thinking… if I keep talking to him like this, maybe I could get him to see the flaws in his ideals… You know, change his heart that way.”

“You’re saying you want to go alone again? Like all the time?” Ann’s eyes were now wide with shock, blinking as she tried to process Akira’s suggestion. “That’s- that’s just- I still don’t think it’s totally safe! Just because it worked once doesn’t mean he’s never going to attack you!”

“I think you’re just looking for excuses to go flirting with him again.” Futaba snorted, rolling her eyes a little. Akira decided to ignore that comment for now, for the sake of his own sanity.

“But it is interesting, isn’t it? This may be an exceedingly rare opportunity to try a different method- it would be a shame if it went to waste, wouldn’t it?” Yusuke mused, and the Phantom Thieves leader let himself relax just slightly. Well, at least someone was on his side…

“That’s what I think, too!” Morgana perked up, tail swishing excitedly. “But your concerns are all warranted. Going in completely alone is still too much of a risk to take… So we have to find a way to do this safely.”

“I think the solution is pretty simple, don’t you?” Haru finally spoke up, tilting her head in thought. “Akira will go ahead of us to give Mishima’s shadow the impression that he’s alone, but some of us should follow close behind for backup in case things go wrong, and the rest of us can continue to explore and map out the palace.”

“I call dibs on the palace exploration team!” Ryuji blurted out immediately, his usual grin returning to his face. “I’m not patient enough t’ wait around to save Akira, y’know. I love ya buddy, but that sounds boring as hell.”

“That sounds like a good plan to me. Any objections?” Makoto asked, but nobody seemed to have a problem with it, a brief silence falling over the rooftop. “Good. I’ll be on the backup team, then.”

“I’d like to be on the exploration team. I find I’m quite interested in the art of that palace…” Yusuke nodded, earning him a loud cheer from Ryuji.

“I don’t mind being on backup. The thought of running into another cognition of myself gives me the creeps, anyways.” Ann decided, her mood finally lifting.

“Alright, exploration team for me it is! Someone has to keep these two in line, after all.” Haru chuckled softly, before glancing over at Morgana. “What about you? The teams are even as it is now, so you could really go either way.”

“Hmm… Well, a professional like myself should be able to do both. After all, I’m small and sneaky, so I could probably switch between the two pretty fast!” He couldn’t help but be a little cocky, smirking a bit to himself. “Buuut if I find that too difficult, I’ll prioritize being on backup. If that shadow turns hostile, we’ll need all the help we can get.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Akira nodded, feeling like a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders now that everyone had calmed down and formed a decent plan. “Thanks for working with me on this, I know this palace has been pretty… Unusual so far, so I appreciate it.”

“No problem, dude! Anythin’ for our super cool leader!” Ryuji assured him, putting an arm around his shoulder. “Just don’t go totally AWOL again, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, of course.” No promises.

---------------------------

Unfortunately, they were unable to spring their plan into action that night- too many of them were busy, but they decided to act this weekend, before they all went their separate ways. Despite the weekend being just a day away, however, Akira felt like every passing hour was a lifetime in itself. He didn’t want to text Mishima too much and come off as overbearing, but the fact that he still wasn’t responding put him on edge. Everything seemed to go well at school today, so what was the deal? Had something happened? Damn, now he was being the clingy friend…

It was honestly a relief when Friday morning came, and Akira wasted no time getting out of bed and hurrying off to school, hoping he’d get to talk to Mishima a little before class, just to see how he was doing… A stupid idea in retrospect, knowing that Mishima was nearly late to class most of the time, but this whole ordeal had Akira acting like a total idiot sometimes. He tapped at his desk impatiently as he watched the doorway, Ann and Ryuji’s conversation going completely over his head as he waited, and waited, and waited—

Mishima stepped in the door the second the bell rang, and Akira’s eyes went wide the moment he saw him. Jesus Christ, he looked terrible. He always looked pale and exhausted, but today was really something else. The bags under his eyes had never looked darker, and he could swear that he hadn’t even changed out of his uniform from yesterday. He looked like he could keel over at just the slightest breeze, wobbly and clumsy with dull eyes that couldn’t seem to focus on anything.

Just what was going on with him?

He wished he could ask now, but seeing as class was starting, there wasn’t much he could do. Not that he could concentrate on class anyways, not when he could see Mishima fighting to stay awake out of the corner of his eye, head bobbing as he continuously drifted off before jerking awake. He could swear his head hit the desk a few times…

As soon as it was lunchtime, Akira made a b-line for Mishima’s desk, now even more grateful that he’d brought him lunch again today. There was no way he could go on like this…

“Mishima.” His voice was gentle but firm, though it still seemed to startle the boy out of his tired daze. “Are you alright? You look like hell today.”

“Oh, Kurusu! I’ve been meaning to show you something! And uh, y-yeah, I’m fine! I just haven’t slept, that’s all— but that’s not important, heheh.”

“It is important, Mishima. I think you should go to the nurses office after you eat…” He tried, but it was no use, the navy-haired boy pulling out his phone with an excitement that didn’t fit with his worn down appearance.

“See, after you brought me lunch yesterday, I got thinking about how I could properly repay you for everything… Your reputation was ruined because of me, and you’re still so kind, so… I figured I had to do something! To show my appreciation and all.” He explained, speaking fast and sounding borderline manic, grinning as he showed Akira his screen.

For a second, he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. It was obviously a website, black and red theme seeming familiar, but it was so different that he almost didn’t realize it was the Phantom Aficionado Website. Everything had been completely changed, rearranged in various ways with several added assets. Admittedly, it did look a lot better, and it was clear to him why Mishima had lost so much sleep to this. It was a completely new Phansite.

“The old setup was so amateur, so I wanted to up my game and really make it look professional! It’s what the Phantom Thieves deserve, after all. I had to learn a bunch of new coding tricks to get everything to look and work the way I wanted it to, but it was definitely worth it.” He was practically beaming, and while that would usually warm Akira’s heart, this was just unsettling. “I’m really happy with how it turned out… What do you think? Do you like it? It’s definitely an improvement, right?”

There’s a pause as Akira tries to think of something, anything to say. It was impressive, that much was true, and he would hate to make Mishima think that he didn’t think he did a good job. But then again, this was so wrong- if he just went along with it, he’d be encouraging this type of behavior, wouldn’t he? He felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place…

“I… It’s great, it really is. I like the direction you’re taking it in…” He started, voice unsure as he watched the boy closely for his reaction. “I can tell how hard you worked on it, and it’s great that you’re ambitious, but to do this all in one night… It’s not good for you. I can tell it’s taking a toll on you.”

Mishima’s reaction to that was mixed, of course, looking happy for a moment before furrowing his brows, a confused smile still on his face.

“Well… So what? I got the job done and I did it well, didn’t I? I’ll be fine, so it doesn’t really matter… You do like it, don’t you?” He was starting to look upset, which forced Akira to backtrack as fast as he could. He really didn’t want this to turn out like the last time he’d tried to tell him to slow down with the site…

“No, no, I do like it- I love it, actually. You did a fantastic job, okay? It’s amazing that you were able to do so much in one night.” He assured him quickly, shaking his head a bit. “But this isn’t sustainable. You’re my friend, I don’t want to see you work yourself to death, you know? You should take your time with these things.”

“Thank you… A-and I’m not going to work myself to death. I can handle myself…” He mumbled, but it was clear that even Mishima didn’t entirely believe that, averting his gaze and instead staring down at his desk. With a soft sigh, he puts his hand under his chin, gently turning his head back to look at him.

“Listen to me. You’re clearly overworking yourself. You’ve hardly been able to stay awake today… It’s not just you, if any of my friends were this tired, I would say the same thing, you know? Let me walk you down to the nurses office, okay?” His voice became a little more stern now, hoping to get his point across clearly. “You can’t go on like this. You need some sleep. Please?”

After a tense silence, Mishima nodded, much to Akira’s relief. Thank god… He still didn’t look happy about it, but at least he would cooperate. That made this a lot easier…

“Good, good. I’ll bring the lunch I packed for you with, okay? You should try to eat something before you sleep. Don’t worry about returning it, just bring the box back on Monday, alright?”

He coaxed him out of his seat, before letting the teacher know where they were going and leading him out to the hallway, keeping him close in case he collapsed. They walked in silence for the most part, unsurprising considering Mishima’s current state, but that didn’t last as they finally approached the nurse’s office.

“… You weren’t lying, right? You really do love the new site?” He asked quietly, a question that Akira found sort of confusing. Why would Mishima think he was lying? Or did he just want to hear him say it again…? It was like he couldn’t say it enough for him to be satisfied…

“Yeah, of course I love it. I promise.” Akira reassured him despite the odd feeling it gave him, going as far as to ruffle his hair a bit. “Now take care of yourself, okay? You deserve it after all that.”

“… Yeah, okay. If you say so.” Mishima nodded, a small smile on his face at the physical contact. Somehow, though, his words just didn’t seem… Right. Akira got the feeling he was lying, but there was nothing he could say about that, was there? It was just a feeling, there was nothing to prove it. “I’ll… I’ll see you on Monday, Kurusu. Thanks for walking me here…”

“Yeah, no problem. See you soon, Mishima.” He waved goodbye, feeling his stomach sink the moment he disappeared behind those doors.

His obsession really was going to destroy him, wasn’t it?

Chapter Text

“Alright, looks like everyone’s here. Are we ready? Do we all remember what team we’re on?” Morgana asked, hopping up on the coffee table to survey the room.

There was a nervous energy about the group, given this was their first time executing their new strategy for changing Mishima’s heart. Nobody was backing down, though, everyone nodding as they glanced at one another for reassurance. After all, they’d gone through so many palaces already, they should be able to handle this, right? Even if things were a little… different this time around.

“I think we’re all good. But before we go, just one thing…” Ann spoke up, before turning to give Akira a curious look. “What happened with Mishima in class today? I saw you guys leave during lunch, but he didn’t come back with you…”

“Yeah, I was wonderin’ the same thing. Is he doin’ alright?” Ryuji furrowed his brows, looking genuinely worried. Even if he didn’t talk to the boy much, it seemed like he cared nonetheless.

“Ah, right, about that…” Akira sighed, eyes falling to the floor as his shoulders slumped, as if a weight had been set on him again. “I had to take him to the nurse. He hadn’t slept at all, and I’m sure he didn’t eat anything, either… Too busy working on redesigning the Phansite, apparently.”

“Shit… Yeah, I noticed how tired he looked. I hope he’s gettin’ some rest now, at least.” His explanation did nothing to quell Ryuji’s concerns, nor did it make any of the other thieves feel better, an awkward quiet falling over them at the news of how his lack of any regard for his own wellbeing was affecting him.

Futaba, however, latched onto something else.

“Redesigning the site? Like, a total overhaul?” The ginger raised her eyebrows, before quickly reaching for her phone when Akira nodded in confirmation. “Hold on, I gotta see this…”

Sure enough, her eyes went wide when she saw the new Phantom Aficionado Website, taking a minute to fidget with the various functions of the site.

“Wow, this really is a lot better! I can tell his coding skills have improved. Things aren’t as rudimentary as they were before… Graphic design is better, too…” She devolved into mumbling to herself for a moment, before her impressed expression turned to one of deep thoughts. “If this is such a major update, I wonder…”

“What is it?” Makoto asked, which snapped Futaba out of her muttering, shaking her head and putting her phone away.

“Nothing. Let’s just stop procrastinating and get in there, yeah?”

“Right, right.” Akira nodded, pulling up the MetaNav app. “Let’s go.”

---------------------------

When they first arrived in the crowd outside the palace, everything appeared to be business as usual. The flashing lights and cheering was familiar at this point, however, the first sign that things had changed came in the form of the chattering around them.

“He built all of that himself?! I can’t believe it!”
“I didn’t think this place could get any better, but he’s really outdone himself this time…”
“All of this for our sake? I love him even more now!”
“I wonder what he’s going to do next?”

The cognitions around them were clearly excited, each and every one of them peering upwards with wide eyes that were practically sparkling with fascination. When Akira followed their gaze, he saw what they were so fascinated by: the palace had changed since they’d last been here.

The already decently tall building had become a skyscraper, extending so high that it was hard to tell where it ended, especially with the sparkling night sky surrounding it. The massive screens had increased in size as well, the main screens still displaying the comments, however others were now advertising a variety of different Phantom Thief products. It was almost like someone had somehow stacked the buildings around Shibuya Crossing or Times Square on top of one another to create a towering behemoth of neon lights and flashy advertisements. The sign next to the building had a new addition as well, “2.0” displayed in bright bulbs underneath the original title.

To say the least, Akira was intimidated.

“I knew it!” Futaba exclaimed after the shocked silence had passed, grinning like she’d just won a bet with herself. “If the Phansite undergoes major changes, so does the palace! I mean, duh, they’re connected, but wow! I didn’t think it was gonna get this big, but I guess it's all about how big of a deal Nishima thinks it is, huh?”

“… I think a change of plans is in order.” Yusuke spoke up after a moment, clearly not sharing Futaba’s excitement. “Perhaps we should get a better feel for just how much things have changed before we proceed…”

“I agree. I felt comfortable before since I felt we had a decent understanding of how this palace operated, but now… I’m not so sure.” Makoto sighed, grimacing a bit as she turned to their leader. “Is that alright with you, Joker? Or do you still want to try our original strategy?”

“No, you’re right. I think that would be for the best…” He sighed, simultaneously disappointed and relieved that he had to push back having another one-on-one with Mishima’s shadow. “We’ll have a look around first, and if things still seem non-hostile afterwards, we can still try to proceed with the original plan.”

“Alright, let’s get goin’ already! We got a lotta ground t’ cover!” Ryuji lightened the group’s general unease with his excitement, and despite his anxieties, Akira couldn’t help but smile a bit as he led them down the red carpet and inside the palace once again. Even if this was difficult for him for a lot of reasons, at least he had his friends by his side…

Upon entering the lobby, it was clear some major expansions had been made. For one, to the right of the reception area there was a massive gift shop, separated by glass doors that allowed them to see the shelves upon shelves that were absolutely overflowing with merchandise. Everything from plushies, figurines, costumes, assorted hats and t-shirts- even strange miscellaneous items, such as a Phantom Thieves themed rice cooker. It looked like the fans were absolutely eating it up, too, cognitions packed in tight, a few even arguing over who would get the last Ann figurine and other such things.

On the left, there was now a full tourist center, rather than the few brochure stands there had been previously. Several tour groups were gathering and leaving at different intervals, and the entire room was lined with stacks of pamphlets and postcards, more than what could possibly be necessary. There were more screens along the walls as well, the usual flow of comments displayed, as well as interviews and advertisements, much like on the outside of the building. Though, the topic of this interview in particular caught Akira’s attention…

“You seem to have brought some lunch with you today. Are you eating anything particularly special today?” The off-screen interviewer asked, to which Mishima’s shadow gave an amused laugh, lifting the oddly familiar bento box from his lap to show… Curry.

“Why of course! My lovely Akira cooked for me today~” He purred, giving an affectionate nudge to the cognition that was always beside him. “He’s a very skilled chef, you know. If I could, I’d eat his cooking for every meal of the day~”

“Wow, I had no idea! Your Phantom Thieves really can do anything, huh?”

“Of course they can! They’re the greatest heroes in all of Japan, after all!” The shadow’s chest swelled with pride, taking in the praise with a cocky grin. “In fact, I’ve been thinking of possibly opening a restaurant,.. Not that I would have my dear Akira actually work there, he’s far too busy for that, but using his recipes…”

“Well, with the massive popularity of the thieves, it’s bound to be a hit!”

Akira couldn’t help the icy chill that ran down his spine, seeing the exact same lunch he’d made for Mishima displayed on TV as if it were some 5-star meal, hearing the shadow go as far as to refer to him as a chef for making something so simple… It felt like no matter what he did, it only made things worse. Sure, Mishima had been happy, and he couldn’t just let him go hungry, but… His obsession seemed to multiply with every nice thing he did, no matter how big or small it was. His heart felt like it was being torn in two, pulled in completely opposite directions- could he continue on this way, for the sake of Mishima’s happiness, and just hope he could bring him to his senses eventually? Or was distancing himself the only way to break this pattern? Was there any way to go about this that wouldn’t hurt Mishima, or was that simply an inevitability? The thought alone made him feel as if a dagger had buried itself in his chest, twisting painfully as he weighed his options. How could he possibly decide?

“Yo, dude, you good? D’ya just like watchin’ yerself on TV or what?” Ryuji’s voice came from behind, startling him out of his trance- something he was grateful for, despite the heart attack it nearly gave him.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine.” Akira did his best to shrug it off, forcefully refocusing his mind back to the task at hand. He’d have time to agonize over this later… For now, they needed to continue exploring until they were sure it would still be safe for him to talk to Mishima’s shadow again. “Just got lost in thought, that’s all. Are we ready to move on?”

“Yep! Well, sorta- there’s this new elevator we were thinkin’ about checkin’ out.” The blonde nodded, jerking his head toward the elevator in question— one that only went down, guarded by two shadows, and decently strong ones at that. “You up for that?”

“Of course.” Came his swift response, despite the fact that just looking at that down arrow filled him with an indescribable unease. He wasn’t sure why, but something just didn’t sit right with him… Maybe it was just leftover nerves from watching that interview, though. That had to be it.

“Sweet, let’s do this!”

The blonde took a step towards the glass doors, motioning for the others to follow- but before he could get far, a white paw swatted at his leg, stopping him in his tracks.

“Wait!” Morgana hissed, black fur bristling on end, earning him an annoyed glare from the other.

“What gives? Ya don’t think we can take those guards or somethin’?” Ryuji huffed, cocking an eyebrow under his mask.

“Listen… I have a bad feeling about whatever’s down there. Like, a really bad feeling.” The cat looked a bit ashamed to admit it, but his voice was stern and steady, confident in his intuition. “I don’t sense the treasure, either, so I don’t think we should go down there unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Seriously? Lame… I wanted to explore the spooky basement level…” Futaba sighed, though her remark was mostly tongue-in-cheek, not truly upset by his insistence.

“Aw, man, come on…” Ryuji was less than pleased, but given that Morgana’s instincts were usually right, there wasn’t much arguing with that. “Whatever, I guess we’ve got like, a billion other floors upstairs. At least a few of ‘em gotta be cool.”

“Exactly! Don’t get all pouty just yet.” Ann elbowed him lightly, gesturing back towards the stairs. “We don’t have all night, so let’s get going.”

Akira let out a breath of relief as they moved on- maybe his nerves had been warranted about whatever was down there…

---------------------------

The museum was much the same as it had been the last time they visited, aside from expanding in size- the most notable new addition, of course, being the lunch box that Akira had let Mishima take home earlier. The art exhibit in particular appeared to have branched off into its own separate branch of the museum, no longer limited to just paintings, but marble statues and more abstract displays as well- though there was still that unsettling religious undertone running through every piece. After making sure they hadn’t missed anything significant, Akira was quick to suggest moving on to the next floor- he really didn’t want to spend any more time surrounded by portraits of himself if he could help it…

The third floor was new to the rest of the Phantom Thieves, and much like last time, the winding lines of cognitions took up most of the space. On the left was the line for STAGE 1, and on the right was STAGE 2- and, as far as Akira could see over the heads of the crowd, it seemed like there were several other event stages further down the hall. Last time he’d assumed that there was only one event going on at a time, given the singular screen on the center pillar had only shown Cognitive Ann’s fashion show, but now the pillar had become the screen, advertising a different event on each side. Ann’s runway, live painting with Yusuke, guided workout sessions with Ryuji- and of course, front and center, Q&A’s with Mishima and Akira. The cognitions were always at work… He had to wonder if they ever got a break, or if this truly was constant.

“Well, seeing your doppelganger is always creepy… But this is far from the worst version of myself I’ve seen.” Ann mused, tapping her chin as she watched the fashion show footage. “At least I’ve still got my sense of style, huh?”

“Yeah, well, there’s no chance in hell it’d be anything like your cognition in Kamoshida’s palace, seein’ as he’s clearly not into girls-” Ryuji started, only to be cut off with an indignant shout from his teammate.

“Skull!”

“What? I didn’t say there was anything wrong with that! I mean, like who ya like, I’m just sayin’ he’s probably playing for the other team, y’know…” He put his hands up defensively, before walking around to the other side of the pillar to look at his own advertisement. “If anyone were gonna be sexified it’d be the dudes, so let’s see… Do you think my cognition looks sexy here? It’s pretty buff, sooooo…”

“I’m not answering that.”

“It seems like the only thing he knows about me is my passion for art…” Yusuke sighed wistfully, though Futaba was quick to interject.

“Yeah, that and the fact you’re a total weirdo!” She teased, snickering to herself as she observed the displays. “I haven’t seen myself yet, thank god. I don’t even wanna know what kinda cartoonish stereotype my cognition is gonna be if it’s based on the one conversation we had. I bet I’ll communicate solely in leetspeak, somehow.”

“Leet- what?” Makoto spoke up in confusion, before deciding she didn’t actually care to know what Futaba was talking about, just shaking her head and looking around for an exit. “In any case, it would seem like these shows are ongoing, meaning all of those cognitions are present on the floor… Even though Mishima’s shadow hasn’t been particularly aggressive, our previous encounter with cognitive Yusuke would make me think twice about trying to enter any of these stage rooms… At least, not without waiting in line for two hours. I would think it best that we not draw any attention to ourselves here and keep moving.”

“I agree. It’s way too crowded to be able to move effectively if a fight did break out, anyways…” Haru nodded, before perking up and pointing to the very end of the hall. “There’s the stairs? Just don’t get lost in the crowd on the way there, okay~?”

“Yes ma’am!” Morgana chirped, before scampering on ahead, easily weaving through the crowd with his small size.

The rest of the Phantom Thieves had to try a bit harder to get to the other end, trying to squeeze past groups of excited fans without shoving any of them too hard and drawing attention from security. One by one, eventually they all gathered at the bottom of the stairs, where a faint beat could faintly be heard from above. All seemingly drawn in by the distant music, the group climbed upwards, the sound getting louder and louder, the lights becoming dimmer and dimmer, until they found themselves at the entrance of…

“A nightclub?! Yessss! Now this is my kinda palace!” Ryuji grinned, although his voice was hard to hear over the music flooding the room.

The room was dimly lit with neon lights that shifted from one color to the next, the only well-illuminated area being the bar, white light surrounding the inside of the counter making it stand out. Most of the cognitions were crowded onto the glowing dance floor, making the club surprisingly easy to navigate, as the few cognitions that were mingling around the tables and bar had no interest in bothering them, too busy chatting amongst themselves. To top it all off, the light show going on in front of the DJ was insane, always flashing to show some new trick, and the crowd was absolutely eating it up, along with a massive disco ball hanging over it all. Because of course there was. If it wasn’t gaudy and over the top, it wouldn’t fit in with the rest of the place, would it?

“We’re not here to have fun, Skull.” Makoto tensed, not letting her guard down for a second as she dutifully scanned the room. “We’ll investigate it like any other section of the palace.”

“Aww, c’mon- maybe we can have a little bit of fun while we’re here. Just a little bit!” Ann piped up, enjoying the atmosphere more than the other girl. “I mean, obviously we’ll still be diligent and all, buuuut…”

“Hell yeah, Panther!”

The blonde cheered, and it looked like he might’ve been about to head for the bar- however, before he could, the overall mood at the club instantly changed. All at once, as if they could just sense something, all the cognitions stopped what they were doing and rushed for the door, squealing in excitement as they clamored to get there first. Even the bartender and DJ left their stations completely unattended, not giving it a second thought as they joined the mass of people. The hairs on the back of Akira’s neck stood up as he stepped towards the bar just to get away from the crowd- that could only mean one thing…

“Hello, hello! Oh, you're all too kind, really…” The unmistakable voice of Shadow Mishima cut through the noise, causing the Phantom Thieves to freeze in place, unsure of what to do. This hasn’t been part of the plan at all!

“Ugh, how does he always find us? It’s like he has a sixth sense… So annoying.” Futaba grumbled, shifting uncomfortably as she eyed the scene. “Should we get out of here, or…?”

Yet again, they didn’t get much of a chance to act. For a split second, Akira caught the gaze of those golden eyes over the heads of the crowd, and the shadow immediately lost interest in his other fans. Clapping his hands twice, the crowd withdrew to form a path directly to the Phantom Thieves- the synchronized movement as incredible to watch as it was unsettling, like the parting of the Red Sea. Too late. They were going to deal with his shadow now, ready or not.

“My, my, my- what do we have here~?” Mishima’s shadow was just as condescending as he was smugly pleased, gold eyes boring holes into each and every one of them as he approached, his confident stride looking alien on Mishima’s form. The cognitive Akira followed close behind as always, never staying far, as if pulled by an invisible leash. “I didn’t expect to see the lot of you here. But, then again, who could resist a place like this?” He lets out a haughty laugh, doing nothing to ease the nerves of the Thieves, who currently stood like deer in headlights.

Of course, it didn’t take long for his focus to settle on Akira, as it always did.

“Ah, you again. What did you say your name was? Joker, or something?” His forgetfulness was clearly feigned, perhaps not wanting to admit that he’d been waiting for him to come back, preferring to pretend he was simply too good to remember the name of some insignificant fan… But the act is more transparent than glass. “It’s good to see you here again with your little… cosplay friends, hm? Though admittedly, I was hoping you’d be alone…”

“Cosplay friends?” Futaba scoffed, though her displeasure at the moniker goes completely unnoticed by the shadow, as usual. Her next words, however, seem to grab his attention: “Well, whatever, don’t let us stop you from chatting.”

Immediately, gold hues fixed on her, hand coming to rest on Akira’s arm. “Oh, really? You don’t mind if I steal him away, then? Just for a little while, of course.”

The rest of the team shared nervous glances, Futaba clearly wondering if she’d screwed up, having assumed that Mishima wouldn’t even hear her- but after giving them all a reassuring look, Akira nods. Maybe they’d get to go through with their original plan after all… Sort of… Either way, he couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this, could he? For the sake of the “real” Mishima… He had to get to know him as much as he could.

“They’ll be alright. Let’s talk.”

“Wonderful!” The shadow grinned triumphantly, before clapping his hands twice, much like he did before. “Akira, darling, get these people something to drink, won’t you? And don’t worry about paying- for such dedicated fans, it’s on the house.”

Obediently, the cognition took the bartender's place behind the counter, beckoning the rest of the Thieves to the bar as Shadow Mishima practically dragged Akira back through the crowd, still at an eerie standstill to allow the two of them to exit without any trouble. It was hard not to wince at how tight his grip was- like he thought that something, or someone, would try to rip him away at any moment, despite everyone in the palace following his every order without question.

The shadow pulled him through a somewhat hidden door on the outer wall of the club, which led into what appeared to be a private room, one long couch wrapping along the other three walls of the room with a glass table in the center, the dim glow of blue neon along the ceiling’s edge illuminating the scene. Looking a bit more relaxed now, the shadow plopped right down in the middle of the couch, motioning for Akira to join him— which he did, despite his pounding heart.

“Crazy out there, isn’t it? Ah, who knew a nightclub would bring in so many people?” Mishima sighed, before adding a prideful “Well, I did, obviously, that’s why it’s here- but wow! Impressive, isn’t it?” Even now, despite his arrogance, he seemed to seek Akira’s approval at every turn, unblinking gaze staring him down expectantly.

“… Yeah, it is.” Akira’s voice falls quiet at first, but he quickly musters up the false confidence he needs to continue, playing the role he needed to play. “This is one of the new additions, then?”

“Yes! Oh, it makes me so happy that you’d come to the new and improved Phansite’s grand reveal~” He muses, leaning closer to the thief in a way that makes his cheeks begin to burn. “But then again, how could a super-fan like you stay away?”

“Right, how could I, when it’s something this big…” He swallows hard, gray eyes darting to some random corner of the room to avoid meeting his gaze. “How many floors are there now, anyways? I was… Amazed by how much taller this building is now, compared to last time.”

“Oh? I dunno, around 100? It’s hard to keep track sometimes, despite designing it all myself.” The shadow shrugs, and judging by the way he laughs, it’s safe to say that Akira’s poker face isn’t holding up this time. “Haha, what, are you really that surprised?”

“Well, that just… Seems a little excessive, doesn’t it?” He tries, but the other just shakes his head with a quiet ‘tsk-tsk’.

“Oh, Joker, there’s no such thing! Not when it comes to this. The Phantom Thieves deserve to have it all, and the more I have here, the more people will want to come. There has to be something for everyone. There has to be a reason to stay…” There’s a flicker of real emotion for a moment, a deep sense of longing, loneliness- but it’s gone in a second when he flashes Akira another picture-perfect smile. “More is always better!”

“Well, I have no experience with this business, so I guess I’ll just have to trust your word on that.” That’s the easy reply, of course, but Akira realizes it’s not enough as soon as it leaves his lips. He was doing this to change his heart, after all… “But I don’t think you need to please everyone. It’s an impossible task, you know? If you try to do that, you’ll never stop building… The real fans are going to be here no matter what.”

“Haha, that’s such an adorably naive way to think about it… It’s refreshing, honestly. Even if you’re wrong.” Shadow Mishima chuckles, the compliment- despite how backhanded it was- doing something to Akira that he didn’t quite understand, stomach doing flips as his face burned hotter. “If that’s what it takes for everyone to like me, to like the Phantom Thieves, then so be it. I’ll just keep building the Phansite ‘til I die.”

“You’re never going to retire?”

The question wasn’t meant to be a joke, but the shadow clearly takes it as one, practically doubling over with laughter.

“Ha! Yeah, right! Retirement? Absolutely not. People will forget about me if I ever retire. That’s a fate worse than death, you know? I’d work until I’m nothing but bones if it meant not fading into obscurity again.”

Not exactly what Akira wanted to hear, given how close that was to reality, where Mishima worked himself until he was on the brink of collapse… But it had to be expected at this point, didn’t it? He wouldn’t have a palace otherwise.

“The people that care about you the most will never forget you. You deserve more than just working yourself to death… Someone as… Important as you should take care of yourself, you know?”

“Psh, don’t be so serious! I’m still young, so let’s not get all morbid and worry about that now.” The shadow rolled his eyes, brushing the conversation off, just like how the 'real' Mishima constantly did the same when it came to his own well-being. “Let’s not spend all of our time talking about depressing stuff like that. We don’t have much time, after all, given I need to return you to your friends at some point…”

---------------------------

“Make me a, uh… Manhattan! That’s what it’s called, right?”

Ryuji was the most enthusiastic of the group about the whole ‘free drinks’ thing, already sitting down at the bar while the others awkwardly hovered around him, watching closely as the cognition dutifully started mixing the requested drink with ease. He made everything he did look so easy— he didn’t have to try at all for everything to turn out perfectly.

“Um, Mona, is it safe to drink something from… You know… A place like this?” Ann questioned with a concerned glance, but the cat shrugged, not sharing in her worry.

“Well, I’ve never consumed anything like that in a Palace, so I can’t really say for sure, but I don’t think it’s a big risk. Much like the cognitions, these aren’t real drinks, you know? It shouldn’t affect us at all. Hear that, Skull? Don’t get too excited!”

“Whatever, it’ll be a fun experiment.”

The blonde rolled his eyes in annoyance, before turning his attention back to the cognitive Akira, who was still playing the role of bartender. Though, the more he watched, the less any of his movements made sense… There was no way a Manhattan would require that much mixing, it was more like the cognition was just doing whatever looked cool- what the real Mishima might think a bartender should do without knowing the first thing about it.

Finally, the cognition poured the drink into a short glass, sliding it across the counter and watching Ryuji, waiting for him to try it. Shit, those glassy eyes of his were unsettling… He almost regretted ordering a drink in the first place, but he couldn’t back down now, could he? All he could do was brace himself as he lifted the glass to his lips, taking a small sip, only to taste… Nothing? He took a bigger sip, wondering if he just hadn’t gotten enough, but no, it was completely tasteless. Even more than that, it was almost like it evaporated when he swallowed- nothing ever settled in his stomach. It simply disappeared.

“What the…?” He muttered in confusion, though noticing that the cognitive Akira was still staring at him silenced him before he could finish his sentence.

“How did you like it?” He asked in that smooth voice of his, a sultry edge clinging to his words no matter the topic of conversation or who he was speaking to. Ryuji quickly nodded, struggling to find the right thing to say amidst how baffled he was.

“Uh- y-yeah, sure, it was great!” He sputtered, which seemed to appease the doll-like ‘man’ in front of him. “Did you, uh… train as a bartender or somethin’? Ya seem awful good at this.”

The cognition let out a quiet laugh, unsettling with how perfectly rehearsed it sounded, like it was a recording leaving his mouth rather than a candid noise. “Ha, no, of course not. I don’t have time for that kind of thing, really. I just pick up on things quickly, that’s all. I’m glad you enjoyed it so much, though.”

Humble, despite his obvious exaggerated perfection. A man that could do anything he put his mind to, even without proper training, or the time to even do so much as read about it. Effortlessly precise. A man who remained perfectly kind despite the clear strangeness of those he was speaking to… It was becoming more and more clear to all of them how Mishima viewed Akira, a funhouse mirror version of the man they knew.

“Really? That’s pretty damn impressive, huh. Guess ya really can just do it all…”

“Hey, Akira!” Futaba cut into the conversation, not content to let Ryuji do all the talking. This was quite the curious situation, after all, so how could she help herself from asking her own questions? “What’s the deal with you and Nishima? You guys are always together, aren’t you?”

Her question earns her a sharp glare from Ann, who seemed to be the most sensitive to the emotional tensions strung between the two boys, but the cognitive Akira doesn’t seem nearly as offended, just smiling and letting out another well-rehearsed chuckle.

“Nishima? You must mean Yuuki.” He corrects, a certain adoration apparent in the way he said his name- his first name. “To put it simply, I’m his everything, and he’s my everything. He’s done all of this for my sake, so of course I’d do anything for him. That’s the best way I can think to describe it.”

“Huh. Well, no offense, but it doesn’t seem that balanced to me-“ Makoto elbows her side lightly to try and get her to stop, but to no avail. “Seeing as he’s like, always dragging you with him and ordering you around and stuff. I mean, don’t you have anything else you want to do?”

“Hm?” Much to the relief of the rest of the Phantom Thieves, the cognition doesn’t appear agitated- rather, he seemed amused by the question. “Well, I suppose it would be unbalanced if it were against my will… But why would I ever want to leave his side? Why wouldn’t I do what he asks of me? It’s what I want to do. Because I…” There’s a pause, the first time the cognitive Akira has had to really think during this conversation, carefully side-stepping the expected phrase and instead concluding with: “… I care deeply for him.”

“Well, hey, if that’s what you really want, then more power to you!” Ann chirped, quickly trying to clear the air after a tense moment like that. “It’s only natural to want to do something nice for the person you love, isn’t it?”

“Love… Ah, yes. Something like that.”

There’s a strange sense of discomfort surrounding the word, something that Ann wants to press on more. This subconscious avoidance of the actual word is intriguing, and figuring out why the cognition avoided saying it, despite that clearly being how he felt, might reveal something about Mishima, something that could help change his heart—

But there’s no time for that. Before she can even think of her next question, that familiar, slightly-distorted voice rings out again, signaling the return of both the shadow and their leader.

“Hello again~ I hope you all enjoyed the free bar service while we were gone.” Shadow Mishima hummed with a smirk, lightly pushing Akira back towards the group. “As lovely as it was to see you all again, I’m afraid I have other matters to attend to. I know you’ll miss me, but try to enjoy yourselves despite my absence, okay?”

And just like that, with a clap of his hands the cognition was back at his side and the two strode out of the nightclub, leaving the Phantom Thieves alone to collect their thoughts after such an unexpected situation.

“So? How’d it go?” Makoto asked, raising an eyebrow at Akira, who seemed a little… Off. Lost in thought. Down in the dumps, even.

“Well, he insisted on not keeping me too long, so we didn’t have time to get into anything super important…” He sighed, seeming more disappointed in himself for being unable to dig anything major up or do any real convincing in that short period of time. “I’ll get into the details more when we get back. What about you guys?”

“Well, talking with your cognition was… Interesting.” Yusuke started hesitantly, unsure of what they should tell Akira about that in the first place. When it came to something as tricky as romantic feelings, it was hard to know what was crossing a line… “A bit uncanny, certainly, but I would say it gave us a better idea of how Mishima feels.”

“I think Nishima just wants to see you as a sexy bartender~” Futaba snickered to herself, before putting on a more serious expression. “But for real, he looks up to you, like, a lot. Not that we didn’t already know that, but… Wow. You're a real jack of all trades here!"

“Clearly he doesn’t know what alcohol tastes like though, ‘cause the drinks here are like- well, let’s just say I might as well have been drinkin’ air!” Ryuji quickly changed the subject when he noticed a slight change in Akira’s stoic expression- something that would be invisible to most, but at this point, it was easy for him to tell when something was bothering his friend.

“Well, it’s probably for the best that he’s not drinking alcohol… I can’t imagine that would make things any better, considering the situation. But anyways, it’s good that we still sort of got to do our original plan, even if to a much lesser extent than we wanted…” Haru sighed, before smiling softly at their leader. “So? What should we do now?”

“I think we should explore a few more floors, then head back to LeBlanc and debrief. Are you all still up for that?”

Akira suggested, and the group nodded in agreement. They still had plenty of energy, seeing as they hadn’t had to do much fighting yet. To be honest, he wanted to leave already, as he always did with this palace- it was just painful to be here sometimes, feeling like he was partially at fault for all of this…

But he couldn’t leave yet. He hadn’t done enough. He had to keep going, even with the constant pain in his heart. Forward was the only way through, and he had to keep pushing, because at this rate, Mishima was going to self-destruct if he couldn’t figure this out fast enough…

And Akira would rather push himself to the breaking point than let that happen.

Chapter Text

Yuuki could already feel the crust around his eyelids as the afternoon sun woke him up, soreness running through his muscles at the slightest movement as he sat up. No wonder he was hurting, he’d fallen asleep at his desk again, fingers running over his face to feel the indents of his keyboard on his cheek. Not the first time this had happened, but after not sleeping at all the previous night, he was in rough shape… The memory of Kurusu having to escort him to the nurse’s office made him flush with embarrassment even now- maybe he was right, and he should really try to get a handle on his sleep schedule again… But looking at his computer screen quickly reminded him of why he couldn’t do that.

Comment after comment praising the new Phansite design flooded the general discussion board, and knowing his hard work really had paid off went right to his head. He couldn’t get enough of that rush he got whenever he read a new one- and so, he’d ended up staying up rather late again, just refreshing the page over and over again, watching praise for the admin pour in… It’s just what he wanted. Everything was going according to plan…

As late as he’d stayed up, though, he’d slept even later- 3:00pm. That had to be a good 12 hours of sleep… More rest than he’d gotten in a while, that’s for sure, so Kurusu couldn’t scold him, could he? It wasn’t exactly comfortable sleep, but it was sleep nonetheless. Good enough, right? He wondered if he really did love the new site… He might’ve just been lying to get him to stop asking and go to the nurse. But everyone else seemed to like it, so why wouldn’t he? Honestly, it was tempting to ask again, now that he wasn’t on the verge of passing out- but that would probably be annoying at this point…

Still, despite his reservations, Yuuki found himself opening his messages with Kurusu anyways, only to find that the other had actually messaged him first instead.

[Kurusu]: hey, are you feeling any better?

Jesus, he’d sent that hours ago! Hopefully he didn’t think he was ignoring him again… .

[Mishima]: So sorry for not responding earlier, I just woke up!! ^^;;
[Mishima]: But yeah, I feel a lot better after sleeping in so late, haha…
[Kurusu]: that’s good to hear. i’m glad you got lots of rest.
[Kurusu]: you should take a break from the site today. wanna hang out instead?

The offer makes him tense for a moment- on one hand he sorta wanted to just keep checking the Phansite, but on the other hand… He’d made up for last time now, hadn’t he? He could allow himself a little bit, if it was Kurusu… Even if he enjoyed the attention from the site, it was Kurusu's attention that mattered the most... Right? He smiles a bit to himself, and for a moment he wonders if he should suggest something for them to go out and do- but the growling of his stomach gives him an easy answer.

[Mishima]: Yeah, sure! Would you wanna grab something to eat?
[Kurusu]: that sounds good to me. meet you at the train station?
[Mishima]: Works for me! See you soon :)

He was so excited to see Kurusu again that he almost forgot about his current condition, standing up from his chair too fast and stumbling from the lightheadedness, vision going black as he held onto his desk for support. Jesus, it had been a while since it had been this bad… Going temporarily blind just from standing up couldn’t be a good sign. Any real consideration toward his subpar health was immediately forgotten once his sight returned a few seconds later, attention now fully devoted to making himself look presentable as fast as possible. After all, he didn’t want Kurusu to wait up on him, but he also couldn’t let him see him like this.

He frantically ran about his bedroom as quickly as his worn-out body would allow him to move, changing out of his uniform at long last and running his hands through his hair until it looked somewhat acceptable. He rushed through the motions of brushing his teeth and washing his face, hoping it might somehow help the keyboard indents on his cheek disappear a little faster. He couldn’t have his friend knowing he’d spent all night on the computer again when he’d had to go to the nurse because of the very same thing the previous day… He was already embarrassed enough as it was, he couldn’t let something like that happen again. If he was going to keep running the site at this pace, he had to be better… He couldn’t continue to be such a burden. The man he wanted so badly to be wouldn’t be so out of it after working hard. But how could he upkeep both the site and his own health…? Well, really, as long as Kurusu didn’t worry about him anymore, it would be fine… Fake it ‘til you make it, right?

Oh well. He didn’t have time to think about that right now. The leader of the Phantom Thieves was probably waiting on him… With one last look at his reflection on his screen, he rushed out the door, moving as fast as he could without full-on sprinting as he made his way to the train station.

---------------------------

Akira’s eyes bounced between his phone and the crowd in front of him, swarms of people flowing in and out of the train station making it hard for him to spot Mishima. Unlike some of his other friends, there wasn’t anything in particular about the boy that would make him stand out among the masses… Not that it was a bad thing, there was a certain appeal to him in that way, sort of a cute boy-next-door look to him, and- wait, this wasn't the time to be thinking about that. He should just focus on finding him in the first place…

“Hey, Kurusu! Over here!” A familiar voice called, and Akira turned his head to finally catch sight of his friend, smiling and waving as he jogged up to him. Mishima still looked a little worse for wear, but he’d improved a bit. He looked happy, too, and not in the unsettling manic way he’d been yesterday- so far, so good.

“Wow, that was fast- did you run here?” He asked half-jokingly, though the sheepish laugh Mishima gave in return told him it was closer to the truth than he’d thought.

“Well! Not exactly, but I walked fast! I didn’t want to keep you waiting, heh.” He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck meekly. “Anyways, did you have anywhere in particular in mind for food, or…?”

“Don’t worry about it, I pretty much just got here.” Akira assured him, unable to help smiling a bit at his enthusiasm. He’s relieved that he seems so excited to hang out- after what happened last time and that time Mishima had spent avoiding him, he wasn’t sure if this would be awkward… “I picked the crepe place, so you can pick where we eat this time. I’m not picky, so I’m good with whatever.”

“Ah, um…” He looks anxious for a moment, like he wasn’t expecting to have to make a choice here- like he doesn’t expect his opinion to matter- but he quickly pulls it together, picking what was probably one of the safest options: “How about noodles? A hot bowl of ramen sounds so good right now…”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me.” He agrees, nodding and turning to start heading inside the station. “Do you have a particular place in mind, or are we just winging it?”

“Oh, uh- well, I remember there was a pretty good one by this arcade in Shibuya! So, maybe we could eat, and then… I mean, only if you want to, of course-!” He squeaked a bit, and the way he spoke made Akira think he was always expecting rejection, trying to stay one step ahead so it wouldn’t blindside him- he wished he wasn’t so nervous around him.

“Sure, that’d be fun. It’s been a while since I’ve played some games, anyway. Shibuya it is.” He hopes his casual tone doesn’t make Mishima think he’s disinterested, but the fact he agreed at all makes the other smile bright, chasing away his worries in an instant as they walk toward the train line. “You’re into video games, then?”

“Yeah, I used to play a lot of video games, heh. Not that I was ever very good at them, but… It was fun. A good way to make some online friends, at least…” Mishima laughs sheepishly, though the past-tense makes Akira raise an eyebrow.

“Used to?”

“Oh- I mean I still like them! I just don’t have the time lately.”

The reason goes unspoken, but it’s obvious that it’s the Phansite taking up all of his free time now. All other hobbies had to be pushed to the side to work on it, so maybe it really was one of his only sources of happiness now… It sure seemed that way to Akira, at least. Maybe today would remind him of how much of life he’d been missing out on… He hoped that something would change, at least. There had to be something he could do to change Mishima’s perspective without breaking his heart, right? Or maybe he was just grasping at straws at this point… But he wasn’t going to give up, not yet.

“Ah, I see.” He nods, not pushing further than that but setting his mind on trying to get Mishima to set aside more time for the other things he enjoyed doing. He hums with thought as they step onto the platform, gray eyes gazing down the tracks. “You know, I bet Futaba would like having a gaming buddy. Maybe you two should play together sometime.”

“Aah, you think so?” Mishima lets out an unsure laugh, shoulders tensing as he fidgets with the sleeve of his shirt. “I don’t think she likes me very much, honestly… I-I mean, based on the like, one time we’ve met.”

“Don’t worry about it, she’s like that with everyone. She just likes to tease, that’s all. Don’t take it too personally.” He assured him, though honestly he was talking out of his ass at this point. Would the two of them actually get along? He wasn’t sure, but maybe it was worth a try. It would be good for him (and Futaba) to have a few more friends, anyways. He tries to ease his anxiety with a mischievous smile, poking his shoulder playfully. “Though, I guess you did say ‘kek’ out loud. She’ll probably make fun of you for that forever.”

“Oh, god, don’t remind me…” Mishima groaned, covering his face with his hand and shaking his head. “That was so embarrassing! I can’t believe I said that in front of a girl…”

“Heh, yeah, seriously. But she’s also a chronically online nerd, so I don’t think she can really judge all that much.”

The screeching of brakes signaled the arrival of the train, and thankfully it wasn’t nearly as packed as it was last time- busy, but still comfortable. Still, as they sat down and waited quietly for their stop to arrive, Akira couldn’t help but linger on the way Mishima phrased that last sentence. It was more embarrassing when it was in front of a girl, huh? Ryuji’s comments nagged at the back of his mind- it was true, in the palace at the very least, it didn’t seem like he had much interest in women in that sense… So why was he so concerned about that in the real world? Was he just getting the wrong idea from his shadow? There’s a painful sting in his chest at the thought, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it further, having already arrived in Shibuya. Damn, that went by fast…

They continued to chat as Mishima led him to the ramen shop he’d mentioned, Akira trying his best to keep his thoughts from the train out of his mind, weaving their way through the busy streets until they finally found themselves in front of the restaurant. It was a small, family-owned place, with low prices but a mouth-watering smell that reached them just outside of the entrance. Akira’s stomach growled- he could already tell this was going to be good. Nothing quite hit the spot like cheap noodles did. The two sat themselves at a booth inside, Akira absentmindedly looking over the menu despite already knowing what he wanted.

“Oh, by the way, I’ll pay this time! You know, since you did last time…” Mishima pipes up from behind his own menu, a proud gleam in brown eyes. “Don’t be afraid to get whatever you want, though! I’ve got it covered.”

“Are you sure?” Akira cocks his head to the side, giving the other a curious look. He had plenty of money from his past part-time jobs and the cash he got from missions in Mementos and palaces, so he really didn’t mind paying… And he couldn’t imagine Mishima was working at the moment. “You don’t have to try and pay me back or anything, you know.”

“No, really, I insist! I want to.” Mishima waves his hand dismissively, the excitement in his voice immediately letting Akira know that there was something he’d been waiting to tell him. “Plus, I’m not going to be totally broke for much longer. I’m planning on opening a small merch shop on the Phansite, along with donations to help keep the site running! So I should have a little extra cash soon…”

Akira but the inside of his cheek- he knew the site was going to come up at some point, it had to, but this… Really didn’t sit right with him. For one, commercializing the Phantom Thieves was already questionable at best, not to mention that the boy was already crushing himself with running the site so intensively, so designing merchandise on top of that really didn’t seem like a good idea… But most of all, spending money that was supposed to be for the site on him just felt wrong. He could tell his silence was starting to worry the other, but what could he say? His mind was scrambling for some way to explain his concerns without upsetting him, tapping his fingers against his arm anxiously.

“... Kurusu? Is something wrong? Aren’t you excited…?”

“No, no, I’m fine, it’s just-” He started clumsily, finding it hard to look him in the eye, already nervous for his reaction. He'd confront him about the issue of commercializing them another time, for now he just wanted to focus on the main issue at hand: his health. “You’re already working so hard, and I appreciate it, but you’re doing more than enough as it is. I like how ambitious you are, but… I don’t want it to get in the way of taking care of yourself. You just majorly updated the site, don’t you think you should relax for a little bit?”

“You don’t think I can handle it?” Mishima was only looking more upset now, and Akira internally cursed at himself for thinking that would work. Just going along with it wasn’t an option at this point, but he had to think of a way to get him to understand, and fast.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I think you’re more than capable of doing whatever you set your mind to. I don’t think you’re weak, I’m not pitying you, or anything like that. I’m saying this because you’re important to me, and I can’t help worrying about you when you’ve been working yourself to the bone lately…”

He trails off, studying his expression closely. Was it even possible to get him to understand, when his desires were twisted this much…? He looked conflicted at best, and Akira nervously chewed his lip. Damn it, this isn’t how he wanted this outing to go… His eyes were starting to glaze over, seeming completely lost in thought- he had to bring his attention back to reality before his mind got the better of him.

“Mishima…” He speaks softly, reaching over to place his own hand over his, making sure to be slow and gentle as to not startle him again. “What is it that you need to hear from me? Is there anything I can say or do that will convince you that I’m being genuine here?”

For a moment, the boy looks like he’s short-circuiting, mouth opening and closing several times as his cheeks start to turn red, but he finds his words eventually, albeit seeming hesitant to speak at all. “I just… Want you to be happy with me, that’s all.” He admitted quietly, averting his gaze and opting to stare down at the table- at their hands- instead. “You’re my hero, so I wanted to make you proud, you know…? I feel like I’m building something great with this site, and… I want it to be good enough for someone as amazing as you…”

“I am proud of you. You’re doing a great job. But I can’t truly be happy if my friend is suffering for it, can I? I wouldn’t be a very good friend otherwise.” He pauses briefly to lightly squeeze his hand. “And I’m flattered that you think of me as a hero, but I’m not that much different from you. Honestly, I don’t even know what I’m doing most of the time, so… You don’t have to try so hard to impress me. I’m already impressed, I promise.”

Mishima blinks a few times in disbelief, but before he can respond, a waiter arrives at their table to take their order, both of them reflexively pulling their hands away at the interruption. An awkward silence falls over them as soon as the worker leaves, neither of them really sure of how to follow up a conversation like that. Though, Akira can at least feel somewhat satisfied, as it seemed like they made a little progress today. He hoped he wasn’t wrong and that he really was starting to get through to him… If he kept this up in between his visits with his shadow, maybe there really was a chance to change his heart.

---------------------------

Getting some food in his stomach definitely helped Yuuki clear his mind, that brief fit of panic and despair that had clouded his mind during their conversation earlier ebbing away the more they ate and chatted about more lighthearted topics. He still didn’t feel quite right about any of it, really, but… Kurusu said he was proud, didn’t he? He even held his hand for a minute there, so… That had to mean something. Even if he still had to keep at it for the sake of his fame, something he couldn’t confide in Kurusu about. If only there was a way he could keep working just as hard without wearing himself down so obviously… Coffee and energy drinks used to be enough to keep him afloat, but clearly that just wasn’t doing it anymore. Maybe if there was something else that could give him even more energy, then…

But there’s no time to think about that, for the moment he’s too lost in thought to notice their waiter bringing them the bill, Kurusu was forking over enough cash to pay for both of them before Yuuki had the time to protest.

“Wh- Kurusu! I told you I could pay this time!” He tried, but the other just shook his head with a casual shrug.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Even if you’re not broke, you should keep the money you make for the Phansite, right?” He insists, and that’s enough to get Yuuki to relent on the matter, given the meal has already been paid for.

“I guess you’re right… Still, next time. Let me pay next time!” For a moment, he feels too bold in assuming that there would be a next time at all, paranoid as always that somehow he’d screwed up and Kurusu would become distant from him again… But, to his delight, it doesn’t seem that his assumption was wrong this time around.

“Okay, okay. I’ll let you get it next time, then.” He chuckles a bit, seeming a bit amused at how eager he was to pay for him. “You ready to head over to the arcade now?”

“Yesss! Let’s go!”

Honestly, Yuuki has no idea how much time they spent at the arcade together. It didn’t feel like long, trying all the different games- he beat Kurusu at most of them, although surprisingly the other was really good at first-person shooters, and he had a lot more stamina when it came to dancing games- but by the time they left, the sun had long disappeared beneath the horizon, leaving an inky black sky, stars blotted out by the bright city lights. Even after stepping out into the cool night air, his heart was still racing with adrenaline- that was… A lot of fun. It had been so long since he’d actually let himself indulge in video games that he’d almost forgotten just how much he enjoyed playing them, and that was only amplified by the fact he got to play with Kurusu the entire time.

He missed this… He wished he could do this more often. The Phansite had to come first, though. He had to keep his eyes on the prize, so to speak. But he wouldn’t have time for this when he was famous, either, would he? When he started all this, he didn’t think he had anything to lose, but he supposed he was going to have to sacrifice some things… It left a knot in his stomach, but he tried to shake it off. It was for the best, right? He’d be so much happier once he had the world's attention…

“Man, it’s late.” Kurusu sighed, staring up at the sky for a moment before glancing over to give Yuuki a cheeky grin. “I bet I’ll get a lecture from Sojiro about being around to lock up tomorrow.”

“Heh, yeah, I can imagine…” Yuuki chuckled, a twinge of envy running through him. He was so lucky to have someone that cared if he came back or not… His parents had probably gone to bed already without so much as checking if he’d come home. At least he wasn’t going to get in trouble, though… “You should probably get going then, huh?”

“Yeah, probably.” He shrugged, but it didn’t seem like he was in any hurry, lingering by his side. “It’s a little late to be walking home alone, though, isn’t it?”

“Huh?” He tilts his head, trying to decipher that coy, easygoing expression. “I guess, but I think I’ll be alright… I-I could walk you home, if you want?” He offered, and Kurusu just laughed softly, shaking his head.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… You could spend the night at my place, if you wanted.”

Yuuki desperately had to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor at the offer. Kurusu wanted him to sleep over? Was he being for real? Hazel eyes frantically searched gray, looking for any sign of a punchline, but… He was serious. His head was spinning in the best way- he’d never been invited to sleep over with someone, and of all people, it was the leader of the Phantom Thieves that asked for the first time-- Yuuki Mishima believes he must be the luckiest person in the world in that moment.

“Mishima?”

“Yes! I-I mean- yeah, sure, that’d be cool…” His face flushes in embarrassment, both from his overenthusiastic response and the fact he’d been so taken aback that he just stared at him like a dunce, but Kurusu doesn’t seem to mind, letting out a content hum and nodding.

“Cool, cool. Let’s start heading out, then.”

They chatted the entire trip back to LeBlanc, a nervous excitement bubbling in Yuuki as they drew closer to the coffee shop. He knew it was kind of pathetic, to be having his first sleepover at 17, and it’s not like he was expecting anything more than just crashing on his couch or something- but this is the sort of thing you only do with a close friend, right? Maybe he shouldn’t doubt their friendship so much after all…

The smell of coffee still lingered as they entered the restaurant, pleasantly warm inside in comparison to the cool night air, dim lights still on, waiting expectantly for Kurusu’s return. Yuuki hadn’t been in much of a state to fully appreciate the atmosphere of the place before, but it was nice and cozy, somewhere easy to feel at home in. This would be a nice place to come in and work on things, if he didn’t feel like he’d be imposing…

“I’d offer to make you some coffee, but it’s a bit late for that.” Kurusu shrugged with a quiet chuckle, before jerking his head toward the back. “This way- I stay up in the attic. But don’t worry, it’s pretty nice… For an attic. Only a little dusty, heh.”

“You live in an attic? Wow, living the high life, huh.” Yuuki teased lightly, though there was some twinge of irritation in the back of his mind that someone as incredible as Kurusu would have to live in an attic in the first place. Of course, he’s sure it wasn’t bad, if he was comfortable with inviting Yuuki over, but still… Kurusu deserved everything. And he’d make sure to give him everything, once the Phantom Thieves were famous…

He followed Kurusu upstairs, heart thrumming anxiously in his chest as it started to truly sink in that he was going to his bedroom. To sleep there. He tried to calm his nerves, reminding himself that this was normal, this was just something close friends did, that’s all- Though his racing thoughts are cut short when he reaches the top of the steps, finally seeing inside. It had the same comfortable vibe as the coffee shop below, glancing around between his couch, his desk, his bed…

“So? What’d you think?” Kurusu asked with a cheeky grin, seeming to enjoy watching the way his eyes darted around the room.

“It’s nice! It’s really nice, yeah. For an attic.” Yuuki repeats his previous sentiment sheepishly, giggling a little despite himself. “Did you fix this place up yourself, or was it the owner?”

“Well, Sojiro already had all this stuff up here, I just had to clean it up a little. Pretty sweet deal though, huh?” He hummed, before making his way over to his dresser, digging around in one of his drawers for a bit before glancing back at him. “You wanna borrow some of my pajamas? I can’t imagine those pants are going to be comfortable to sleep in. They might be a little big on you, big clothes are comfier anyways, right?”

Yuuki feels like he could just about faint. He was tempted to pinch himself to make sure this was really happening and he wasn’t just lost in some vivid daydream, eyes going wide as his cheeks burned.

“Ah, um- y-yeah, sure! Sure. That sounds good.”

He thinks he may have sounded a little too enthusiastic or stammered a bit too much, because he can swear he sees a flicker of amusement in those gray eyes as he picks out a pair of pajama pants and a baggy t-shirt, tossing them over to him, Yuuki clumsily scrambling to catch them. The only other problem was there being no bathroom up here, so he wasn’t sure where he was going to change… But, of course, Kurusu seemed determined to give him a heart attack at every possible opportunity.

“Well, I’m gonna change over here. Don’t worry, I won’t turn around until you’re done.” He was so casual about it, like it was the most normal thing in the world- and maybe it was. Other guys probably didn’t freak out this much over changing in the same room, right? Yuuki was just being nervous for no reason. That has to be it.

“Uh- alright! I’ll… Do it over here, then…”

He moves a little further away, staying close to the couch, turning his back to the other as he hesitantly starts removing his clothes, self-conscious of every little move. There’s this inexplicable urge to glance over his shoulder every time he hears Kurusu shuffling around behind him- he wonders what his back muscles look like when he lifts his arms to pull his shirt off- Wait, what was he thinking? He mentally slaps himself for letting his mind wander to such a place. They’re just friends, and that’s not how friends think about each other. That’s all there is to it. He can’t be having thoughts like that about another guy…

“I’m done,” Kurusu’s voice was a relief, the temptation now gone as Yuuki quickly threw on the rest of his pajamas.

“Yep, me too!” He squeaks, turning around to face him at long last. As expected, Kurusu’s clothes were a little bit loose on him, Yuuki was quite a bit shorter and skinnier, and he feels like he’s burning up at the physical representation of their difference in size. He’s not about to unpack that, though. There’s something he can’t quite describe in the way Kurusu looks him up and down now, too, but he blames trying to derive any meaning from that on his clearly overactive imagination. “Is it cool if I crash on the couch, then…?”

“Hm?” The raven-haired boy raises an eyebrow at him, like he’d just said something absurd. “Oh, no, I’ll take the couch. You can sleep on my bed.”

He swears this man is trying to kill him…

“Wha- are you sure? I-I mean, I’m totally fine with the couch! It looks comfortable, so you really don’t need to give up your bed for me…”

“You’re my guest, Mishima. I wouldn’t be a very good host if I kicked you to the couch, would I?” He smiles at him, gentle and reassuring. “Plus, I want to make sure you sleep well tonight.”

“Well, if you insist… Thank you, Kurusu.” There was clearly no arguing with him on this, and, well… He would be lying if he said he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to think any further about why he wanted to, but he wanted to. The fact he wanted him to sleep well, too… He wouldn’t go this far out of pity, right? This had to be genuine. It made his chest feel warm and the butterflies in his stomach go wild.

“It’s no problem.” He brushed off the thanks as usual, grabbing himself a throw blanket and tossing it on the couch, before moving to turn off the lights. “Do you need anything else before bed? A glass of water maybe?”

“Nope, nope, I’m all good, thanks… Goodnight, Kurusu.”

“G’night, Mishima.”

And with that, the lights went out, and Yuuki settled down on the bed, hesitantly pulling the covers over himself and resting his head on Kurusu’s pillow. Even though Kurusu had insisted on him sleeping here, it still felt so… Forbidden, to lay where he slept, eyes fixed on the closest wall as he tried to slow his frantic heart. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t like being here so much. He shouldn’t like the way his sheets smelled like him, enveloping him in hints of his usual cologne. He shouldn’t, but no matter how much he reminds himself of that fact, he still does. He couldn’t help closing his eyes and imagining Kurusu was here with him, arms wrapped around him- his daydreams cut short by a wave of nausea. This was wrong, wasn’t it? They were only ever going to be friends, and here he was, getting carried away by some impossible fantasy - he felt disgusting. If Kurusu ever found out how he felt, he’d probably be disgusted with him too, taking his kindness to mean something more than it actually did…

Being friends with a total loser was one thing, but to love one?
Yeah, right. That would never happen. Not while he was like this… It was unacceptable.
But if he were famous enough- loved by the public enough for it to be overlooked…
Then, just maybe… It might be okay.
He could have a chance then, right?
Just a chance…

---------------------------

“Akira! Akira, wake up!”

The boy was just about to drift off to sleep when he was jerked back to consciousness by paws batting at his face, groaning and opening his bleary eyes, squinting to make out the shape of Morgana above him, perched on the back of the couch.

“Keep it down, Moragana… What is it?” Akira mumbled, voice hushed in hopes of not waking Mishima up. How awkward would it be, if he awoke in the middle of the night to hear him having a one-sided conversation with his cat…

“First of all, you could’ve told me you were having someone over. I almost jumped on him, thinking it was you!” The cat huffed, sounding embarrassed at the very idea. “And besides that… Are you sure this is a good idea? Getting this close to him, I mean.”

“It was sort of a last-minute decision…” He shrugs it off, though his stomach ties itself in anxious knots at his question. Was it a good idea? He wasn’t sure, but… “I’m still trying to… You know. Without stealing anything. I feel like we made pretty good progress today, actually…”

Morgana didn’t seem entirely convinced, cocking his head to the side, blue eyes observing him curiously. “Well, yeah, I know that, but… Doesn’t it seem like getting closer does more harm than good, sometimes? I mean, I’ve overheard all of your conversations in class. Your encouragement just keeps pushing him further…”

He feels nauseous- he was afraid he’d say something like that, and the worst part was knowing it was true. “I’m not ready to give up yet.” He stated plainly, hiding the storm of emotions brewing under the surface behind a mask of calm. “We talked about that today, and I think I might’ve gotten through… If it still just makes things worse, I’ll stop. But I had to try again.”

“I see… Well, for both your sake and his, I hope that you’re right.” He sighs, accepting Akira’s plan for now, although it was clear he was starting to have more reservations toward it. “Well, just be careful, alright? Getting this close to a palace owner… It might take a toll on you, you know.”

“I know… I’m being careful, I promise. Don’t worry so much about me.” He reassured him, though to be honest he was reassuring himself in the same breath. He really hoped he was making the right decision here… “Goodnight, Morgana.”

“G’night, Akira…”

Morgana quietly curled up where he’d been sitting, falling asleep in no time, but now that he’d been woken up again, Akira was having a more difficult time with that. His head was swimming with so many questions, so much uncertainty brought back into his mind at full force with Morgana’s questioning. What if he really did make things worse again? What if his words to Mishima today were ultimately meaningless? Still… The other seemed like he’d gotten a well-deserved break from the Phansite today. He couldn’t completely regret it if it made Mishima happy for a little while…

Glancing over the arm of the couch, he could see his friend tucked into his bed, fast asleep. At the very least, he was getting a good night of rest tonight… If nothing else, he could feel at ease knowing that.

Chapter Text

The Sunday morning light woke Yuuki up, stirring slightly with a grumble as he lazily turns away from the brightness of the window, for a moment forgetting where he was in his sleepy haze, assuming he was in his own bed as he buries his face in the crook of his elbow. For someone who was so insistent on staying awake as much as possible, he sure was determined to keep sleeping, more tired than he’d ever like to admit and far too comfortable to even consider the notion of getting up right now. Normally he’d be rolling out of bed and onto his computer the second he was conscious, or pull out his phone at the very least, but that all felt so far away right now… He only remembers why he feels so different when the scent of coffee wafts into the room, brows furrowing in confusion for a moment. The smell wasn’t usually strong enough to reach his room when his parents made coffee… And the scent was a lot richer than the cheap coffee grounds kept in the Mishima household…

Wait a minute. It all hits him at once and he sits up with a start, nearly gasping as his eyes fly open and he once again takes in the sight of the cozy attic above LeBlanc. That’s right, Kurusu let him spend the night here… And speaking of Kurusu, he was nowhere to be seen, the only other presence in the attic being that cat he was always carrying around with him, staring at him from the couch with wide blue eyes. He always got sort of a weird feeling around the feline, like it was… Thinking too much… But he shrugs it off as his mind playing tricks on him as the cat perks up, having noticed he was looking back at it, before jumping off the couch and scampering down the stairs. The distant chatter of customers floats up to the attic, the sound of the bell ringing as the front door swings open- shit, he was really overstaying his welcome, wasn’t he? Sleeping up here while Kurusu was probably hard at work down at the shop… He wishes he’d woken up sooner…

He quickly starts throwing on his clothes, feeling a little gross putting on the same clothes he’d been in all day yesterday, but oh well. He wasn’t above that, not when there had been times he hadn’t even bothered to change out of his uniform between school days… Once he has everything together, he rushes to the stairs, figuring he would just say goodbye to Kurusu on his way out and walk home on his own- but right as he’s turning to walk down the steps, he takes out his phone, only glancing at it for a second- but apparently that’s enough time to run into something, letting out a startled yelp as he feels something hot spill on his shirt, stumbling backwards and just barely managing not to fall on his ass.

“Oh, fff- Sorry, are you alright?”

Kurusu’s voice makes his face flush bright red, though he doesn’t dare allow himself to look yet, vision focusing instead on the coffee stain that now blighted the front of his t-shirt. Ah, man… Well, it’s good motivation to finally do his laundry, he supposes… Brown eyes sheepishly look upwards, catching the apologetic smile on Kurusu’s lips and the to-go cup of coffee in his hand.

“Y-yeah, yeah, I’m fine! I didn’t get burned or anything… Sorry, I should’ve been watching where I was going, but I thought you’d be busy working…”

Kurusu just shakes his head with a little laugh, already looking around for something to help clean Yuuki up with. “I was, but I thought you might be awake by now, so I figured I’d go on break. Y’know, bring you some coffee, walk you home…” He looks down at the now half-empty cup with an amused huff. “Though, I guess I’ll have to pour you a new one now, huh? And get you a new shirt…”

Yuuki’s heart already feels like it could burst at his friend's thoughtfulness alone, but when he suggests he needs another shirt his mind is sent reeling- sleeping in his clothes at his place was already nearly overwhelming, but actually wearing one of his shirts home? Keeping it until the next day? It’s almost too much… Not that he’s going to refuse, not really.

“Ah- it’s okay, really! I can just wash it when I get home…” He insists, but it doesn’t even seem like Kurusu hears him, already picking up the shirt he’d slept in previously and tossing it back to him.

“Don’t worry about it, you can just give it back to me at school tomorrow, yeah?” He just shrugs it off, cool and casual as he always was in a way that made Yuuki melt. “I mean, it can’t be comfortable walking all the way home in a wet shirt, can it?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right… Thanks, heheh.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck shyly as he looks down at the shirt now resting in his hands. He wonders if it will still smell like him… He shakes his head as if it would force the thought out of his mind, turning away from the other as he quickly changes, trying to ignore the way it felt like he was on fire. They’re both guys… It’s just like changing in a locker room… Not weird at all… Right?

“Ready to go?” Kurusu asks, and he quickly nods with a sheepish smile, definitely more comfortable now that there wasn’t coffee-soaked fabric sticking to his skin.

He grabs Yuuki another coffee on their way out, sweet with just the right amount of cream and sugar, although admittedly he’d probably have enjoyed anything if Kurusu gave it to him. The crisp morning air feels pleasant as they walk back to his neighborhood- he never realized how much he missed fresh air, with how he was cooped up in his room more often than not… For a brief moment he considers the wild notion of going outside on a regular basis, but he quickly shrugs it off. He’d have plenty of time for that later, once he’d accomplished everything he needed to. For now, he’ll just enjoy the moment while he can.

“Um… Thanks for the coffee, by the way.” Yuuki breaks the silence that had encompassed their walk to his neighborhood with an awkward little smile, keeping his eyes on the warm cup in his hands. “You’re, uh- you’re very thoughtful, heh.”

“Ah, it’s nothing.” Kurusu shrugs, as nonchalant as he’d expected him to be. “I get it for free, so it’s the least I can do for our hardworking manager~” He adds with a teasing lilt to his voice, and Yuuki feels his heart jump in his chest. Manager of the Phantom Thieves… He loves the sound of it, especially in Kurusu’s voice.

“Ha, y-yeah, right…” He stammers over his words, hoping his friend doesn’t notice the way his cheeks flush pink, taking another sip of his drink as if that’ll help hide it. “Still, I appreciate it. It’s been really nice hanging out with you lately…”

He can see his house coming up in the distance now, and it feels as if the high he’s been riding since last night is finally coming to an end, a screeching halt as cold dread creeps back into his chest. After having Kurusu’s attention for so long, going back to his own home where his existence was hardly acknowledged… It made him feel so hollow, like he quit being a real person the second he stepped through that door. Oh well, it had to happen eventually- he’s got work to do, after all.

“For sure, it’s been fun. Let’s keep it up, yeah?” Kurusu smiles, and knowing that he wants to continue spending time together helps him push away that empty feeling for now- he’s sure he’s going to be replaying that line to himself for a good while once he’s alone. They’re practically at his door now, and for a moment Yuuki fidgets awkwardly, not wanting to go inside just yet but knowing that, regardless of how he felt, it was time to say goodbye.

“Definitely… See you at school tomorrow?” He gives a timid smile, his words coming out with more uncertainty than he would’ve liked. “I’ll- I’ll return your shirt then.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Kurusu flashes him that charming grin again, before putting a hand on his shoulder and giving a little squeeze. “Take care of yourself, okay? I mean it. Give yourself a break every now and then.” He looks more serious for a moment, gray eyes locking onto Yuuki’s and refusing to look away. “If not for yourself, then do it for me, alright?”

His unflinching eye contact makes Yuuki freeze for a moment, before he gives a hurried nod, feeling his cheeks burn. “I will!” He chirps, before they say their final goodbyes and he dips back inside, heart still pounding in his chest as the door shuts behind him. He might feel guilty for so blatantly lying to Kurusu’s face- there’s no way in hell he can stop now- but honestly, he’s too focused on the giddy rush making his pulse race and his head spin. He didn’t want to worry him any more than he already has, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the extra attention it got him… He’s been so caring lately, always checking in on him and making sure he’s okay, that he’s taken care of…

But Yuuki wants more than that. He doesn’t just want his fretting, his pity, his concern. He wants his praise, his admiration, even- he wants to become somebody Kurusu could be proud to call his manager, proud to call his friend- maybe more, if he let the fantasy get away from himself. He wants to be worthy of Akira Kurusu, and he’s never going to get there if he’s just a burden, someone he constantly has to worry over. If he could just find some way to keep up his energy while doing the same amount of work without offloading anything onto others… If he could get his hands on something stronger than caffeine that would do the trick, right? But how would he even get his hands on something like that…? If he could just find some sketchy doctor that would be perfect… The thought of doing something sort of illegal gave him a little thrill, honestly. Maybe the manager of Tokyo’s resident arbiters of justice shouldn’t even be thinking of it, but it’s not like it’s a violent crime… He’s not hurting anyone. Most celebrities put much worse in their bodies, and that’s what he’s going to be, right? A celebrity. A star.

He finally pulls himself away from the door, letting out a long breath as his heartbeat begins to calm at last, his mood dampened by the silence of the house. It’s a Sunday, and yet he’s still alone in this place… He wonders if his parents even noticed he’d been gone for the night. He doubts it. Oh well, maybe it’s for the best that they don’t want to spend time with him- because right now, he doesn’t have time for them, either. There’s far too much to do. He’ll throw some things in the laundry so he can give Kurusu a clean shirt back tomorrow- though he wants to keep it on for just a little bit longer- and then it’s back to maintaining the Phansite, going through requests, deciding who deserved to be saved… And maybe looking into certain… prescriptions…

He won’t slow down. He can’t stop now- he’s going to make this happen, no matter what. He’s going to make the Phantom Thieves- and most importantly, Kurusu- proud of him.

---------------------------

Akira takes a deep breath as he begins walking back from Mishima’s house, his heart already beginning to feel tight in his chest. Once he finishes his morning shift at LeBlanc, he’d told the other thieves they’d go back into the palace today with the hope that he’ll be able to have a longer conversation with his shadow… Despite this all being his own idea, he can’t help but dread it. It’s unsettling, seeing that side of his friend, hearing everything he never wanted to hear from him… But still, Mishima has been improving in the real world, hasn’t he? He at least seems to listen to him a bit more now, even agreeing to take more breaks… Who knows if that was actually true, but he can only hope that this will all pay off in the end.

Rather than enjoying the good weather on his way home or the rich scent of coffee during his shift, Akira’s mind is entirely preoccupied, trying to decide just what he should say to Mishima’s shadow. While he has yet to be too hostile to him, one can never be sure with a shadow, so there’s no telling how many chances he’ll have to get through to him… Not to mention that previously, there had always been some sort of ticking time-bomb, a deadline they had to meet. Currently there wasn’t anything like that, as far as they were aware- maybe they’d caught on early enough to prevent it- but still, it was risky to take too long to resolve this… He had to make every conversation count. But what should he focus on? What was the precise root of the issue? His loneliness? His trauma? He’d mentioned he wasn’t on good terms with his parents, to the point he didn’t want to ask them to make lunch for him… Was that it?

They talked about his motivations for making the Phansite, for wanting to be famous, his lack of power, his work ethic… What piece was he missing to understand how to change his heart? One thing was clear; he couldn’t continue to sit idly by and agree with his way of thinking anymore, even if it caused a conflict. At the rate things were going, if he failed to change his heart, things were bound to get severe.

Before he knew it, his shift was over and he was back in the attic, surrounded by his fellow Phantom Thieves. Their last venture into the palace had gone fairly well, despite the unexpected changes to its form, so everyone was in pretty good spirits- but despite his calm and collected facade, Akira was still… Uneasy. He had to do something different this time, and that made it far more unpredictable. What if he pushed him away, and this was his last chance to try and change his heart without stealing it? How strong would his shadow be if he attacked him- or, perhaps worse, if that cognitive version of himself did it for him? There was too much uncertainty to be comfortable with. It lights a fire in him, one that burns panicked and desperate- he has to find a way to get through to him.

“You ready to go, dude?” Ryuji’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts- he hadn’t even realized he’d been spacing out, his friends eyeing him with concern at the break in his usual demeanor.

“Right, yeah- let’s not waste any more time.” He agrees, shaking his head as if he could rid himself of his worries that way, taking one last glance down at the MetaNav app and hitting ENTER.

It’s all the usual fanfare he’s come to expect as they once again appear in front of the palace, the towering height of it still a bit shocking despite knowing how different it was. The crowd was as fanatic as ever, he swears he hears Mishima’s name whispered in hushed reverence about a hundred times just in the few minutes they’re in the midst of it- it’s enough to make a man crazy, something about it feeling like it’s soaking into Akira’s head and refusing to leave. Just a side effect of his friend occupying so many of his thoughts these days, he supposes- but there’s no time to ruminate on it. This time, they’re actually going to enact the plan they had formulated a few meetings ago.

“Does everybody remember their roles?” Morgana pipes up from near their feet, struggling to be heard over the excited chattering of the shadows. When everyone agrees, all eyes turn to Akira, the cat giving a salute with a white paw. “Alright Joker, you’re up! The backup team will be right behind you!”

“Right… See you guys inside.”

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he pushes his way through the crowd, finding himself back on the red carpet that stretched towards the palace entrance. He had to change his heart, regardless if he felt ready to or not… His boots feel weighed down with lead, but he manages to keep a confident stride, a facade to hide within as he makes his way to the doors and pushes his way inside. The lobby appears the same as usual, if not busier than before, having become rather familiar at this point. Of course, Shadow Mishima is nowhere to be found- there’s no doubt that he’s on one of the 99 floors above him, basking in the attention of his fans, but with so many places to look where should he start…?

He isn’t left wondering for long as the receptionist makes eye contact with him for a moment, looking him up and down before waving her hand, signaling him over and ignoring the other guests that were waiting in line to be helped. Did she recognize him at this point…? But what could she have to say to him? Still, it would be worth it if it could give him any clue as to where the shadow might be lurking, meeting her at the desk despite his confusion.

“You’re Joker, correct?” She asks with a typical customer service smile, and he nods silently, still a bit off-put by these figments of Mishima’s imagination; the way he can tell those eyes are completely void of life or real thought. “I’ll tell the admin that you’re here. In the meantime, you should wait in the VIP lounge for him- floor 25.” It’s not a request but a gently-worded demand- sometimes he wonders if he’s becoming too much a part of this world, if he’s too involved at this point, but it certainly makes actually finding him a lot easier. Perhaps he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. The receptionist turns in her chair and grabs a card, sliding it across the desk to him- a sleek design, black and red with the Phantom Thieves logo embossed on the front. “This will let you access the lounge. Enjoy your time.”

“Alright, thank you. Tell him I look forward to seeing him.”

He can hear her leaving a message for the shadow as he walks away, turning the card over in his hand and running his finger along the edges to ground himself as he steps into the nearest elevator, pressing the number for the floor he’d been told, although it takes him a moment to find it given the sheer number of buttons. It gives him a newfound sense of appreciation for just how much this place has grown… He can’t imagine how much effort Mishima must have put into the website for this to be his perception of it- or how much more work he’d need to put in to make this a reality. It’s such an exaggerated fantasy, he’s not sure things ever could reach this point, no matter how much he tried…

That’s besides the point, though. Even if it were possible, it wouldn’t be worth the toll it would take on him. It wasn’t worth sacrificing his health, his happiness, his sanity… The elevator dings as it brings him to his destination surprisingly fast, Akira hardly having enough time to collect his thoughts before the doors are sliding open to reveal a dim, neon-lit lounge, protected by another pair of sliding glass doors with a card scanner on one side. Those open for him as well when he scans the card he was given, allowing him to step inside and properly observe the scene- there aren’t a whole lot of people here, as he’d expect from a VIP lounge, but there were two familiar faces sitting at the bar- a women with voluminous blonde hair falling down her back in waves, and the other- the one facing his direction- with a short brown bob, neatly styled. He’d seen the cognitive Ann before at least in passing, but Makoto was new. There was something especially off about her, even compared to the uncanniness of the other cognitions- despite being in the middle of a conversation with the cognitive Ann, she didn’t once look at her. Not holding eye contact the entire time one was talking wasn’t uncommon, but to not even glance at her, just continuing to stare ahead as she responds… It was off-putting, to say the least. It could just be that Mishima wasn’t very familiar with her mannerisms, but something tells him that isn’t the full story… Or maybe he’s overthinking every little detail in his efforts to fully understand his friend. He wishes he could eavesdrop on their conversation, but their voices are too quiet to be heard over the soft, jazzy music playing over the speaker.

There are a few other patrons, but none of them catch Akira’s eye, so he just settles into the soft velvet seat of one of the empty booths, waiting for the shadow to arrive. Knowing how the shadow tends to keep himself busy at all times, he’s not sure how long it’ll take for him to get around to him, so he tries to entertain himself in the meantime, eyes falling to the glossy black table in front of him. A soft blue glow emits from beneath it, and that same glow draws his attention to a small button near the edge of the table where he’s sitting- in fact, there are multiple of these circling around the edge, evenly spaced, giving the impression that there would be one for each person that could fit at the table. There’s no label, however, so a gloved finger curiously pushes it- it’s a VIP lounge, so what’s the worst that could happen, right? It nearly startles him when some kind of hologram springs to life before him, and projected from the button is… A drink menu, of course. He lets out a breath, almost laughing at how stupid he feels for nearly letting that scare him. It almost looks like an internet pop-up window, with a bar on the side to allow him to scroll down. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that everything is unnecessarily high-tech, considering this is all supposed to be the Phansite…

“See anything you like?”

The voice of the shadow does succeed in startling him, however, nearly jumping out of his seat as his heart seizes in his chest- and Shadow Mishima has no qualms about laughing at him, almost a cruel cackle before it fades into something softer as he draws near, the cognitive Akira ever-faithful as it trails close behind him.

“You weren’t ready for me, hm? I suppose you expected to be waiting all day, like any other fan.” He muses, a confident smirk on his face that still feels so out of place, even after all their previous encounters. “But you’re not just another fan, you know, if you couldn’t tell by the fact that I gave you VIP access. You know what that stands for, don’t you?”

“Uh, yeah… I’m happy to hear that I’m so important, then.” Akira mumbles, still trying to recover from the near heart attack the shadow had given him. Maybe it’s just because his arrival was usually signaled by the cheering of his adoring fans, but he really thought he’d hear him coming…

“You’d better be happy about it. You’re living the dream of thousands- no, hundreds of thousands of fans!” Shadow Mishima beams, as grandiose as ever. “Anyways, are you going to get something to drink? We have some specialty Phantom Thief themed cocktails, you know. You’d love it, I’m sure.”

“Ah… That does sound good, but I think I’m alright for now.” He turns him down awkwardly, nearly cringing again at the delivery and half-expecting the shadow to feel rejected and get snippy with him- and he does look confused for a moment, but it quickly fades away with a little shrug, not seeming to care all that much.

“Hmm, I guess being around me is intoxicating enough as it is, right? You don’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of me. I can respect that~” Unlike the real Mishima, who seemed to take even the slightest sign of rejection or disagreement on a deeply personal level, his shadow was almost the opposite, finding a way to make everything about just how great he is. “You’ll just have to try them next time. The Akira themed one is my favorite, of course, and I’m sure it’ll be yours, too. But I didn’t invite you here to just talk about drinks…” He hums, reaching across the table to turn off the hologram. “This lounge is pretty exclusive, but still, who knows when we’ll be interrupted by fans. We’ll be going back up to the penthouse to discuss things.”

It’s not really a request, but there’s no reason for Akira to refuse, just nodding in agreement. “Sounds great. I’d hate for there to be distractions…” He’ll keep playing along until they’re alone and able to have a proper heart-to-heart… Though the reminders of his borderline obsession with him have him wondering if there have been any new additions to that museum since he last saw it. Like the shirt he’d borrowed… Not that he plans on checking, with the uneasy pit that forms in his stomach at the thought.

“Exactly. Because you want all my attention- not that I can blame you, heh.” It’s a clear projection of Mishima’s own desire for attention, but he won’t say anything about that, following his lead and standing up to leave the lounge. “There’s no time to waste! You know how busy I am~”

“Hey now, you’d better not try to pull any funny business with our manager!” The cognitive Ann pipes up from the bar, turning in her chair to watch them go, the glamorous, sparkling dress she wore reflecting specks of neon light everywhere. “I’ll be the first to punish you if you hurt him in any way.”

“Second,” The cognitive Akira corrects, gentle but stern. “You’ll be the second.”

“Please, you don’t have to worry so much! He’s a friend.” The shadow assures them, though he’s clearly eating it up, looking rather smug at their concern.

“Just let him do what he wants.” The cognitive Makoto mutters, her voice taking on a cold, harsh edge rather than the protective tone of the others. Again, she doesn’t look at any of them, flippant and uncaring as she dismisses them. It was so odd, in this fantasy world where everyone bent to Mishima’s every whim… Why was Makoto so different from everyone else? It’s beyond unfamiliarity at this point…

There’s no time to dwell on it, Shadow Mishima doesn’t acknowledge the strange behavior from his own employee for a moment and just continues on his way out of the lounge, leaving Akira scrambling to catch up with him and his cognition. They make idle chit-chat on the way up, and the Phantom Thief wracks his brain for a plan- he needs to find some way to make him realize how screwed up this all is, make him realize he’s wrong… Even harder, he wants to do so without completely destroying the strange friendship they’ve built… But if that’s what it takes to change his heart, he’ll just have to grit his teeth and bear it.

Entering the penthouse again is… Unsettling, even if he can get past the uncanny version of himself holding the door open for them. As soon as he enters, he immediately notices that it smells different here in a way that doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense. The air lingered with the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee and dust, just like… The attic of LeBlanc. His stomach drops at the realization that it smells like home, his home, and he can’t even begin to wrap his head around what that means before the shadow is sitting on that luxurious loveseat again, raising his brows at him expectantly as he stands there in shock.

Just ignore it. Stop thinking about it. Stop. You can’t lose your cool now.

He quickly takes his seat across from the shadow, trying to pay no mind to the cognition obediently standing guard behind him. “So… What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?” He asks, figuring he should get that out of the way first. He really has no idea what to expect… And when Shadow Mishima answers, he has a hard time keeping his jaw from clattering to the floor.

“Ah, yes!” He clasps his hands together excitedly, practically beaming at him in a way that’s all too familiar, sending a pang through Akira’s heart. “Since you’re such a dedicated fan and new friend, I thought I’d offer you an exciting opportunity… Why don’t you work for me here, at the Phansite?”

“What?” Akira sputters before he can even think of a proper response, blinking in shock at the sudden proposition.

“I know, I know, it’s hard to believe! How did you ever get so lucky?” Shadow Mishima chuckles, leaning back in his seat with a grin. “But I just know you’d do great here- and it’s the best place for someone like you, isn’t it? You’re not like everyone else. You’re a true fan.”

“I-... I mean this is kind of sudden, isn’t it? To hire me just based on that…” How the hell is he supposed to reason his way out of this?!

“Oh, give yourself some credit! You’re fit for the job. I can trust you not to skew the image of the Phantom Thieves- not to warp my design. You should believe it because I told you so, right? Who would know better than me?” He insists, still seeming confident that his offer is just too good to resist- but this could be a good opportunity to burst his bubble, couldn’t it? If he doesn’t immediately blow up at him, that is.

“Well… As great as that sounds, I’m going to have to turn you down.” He tries to sound certain, but it’s hard when those golden eyes are practically boring holes into him, now widening with shock, almost looking like he’d been slapped across the face.

“What? Why?!” His attitude changes in an instant and he sits up more, brows furrowing in a baffled mix of confusion and anger. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime and you’re just- letting it pass you by? Think about it! I could give you whatever you want- hell, I could make you a star! You’re an idiot if you just give a chance like that up willingly!”

“That’s the thing- I don’t want to be a star.” Now that he feels like he’s actually starting to get somewhere, he regains his footing in the conversation, back straightening as he keeps his voice cool, even, confident. The calm facade he wears as Joker falls back into place, just like the mask obscuring his face. “There are a lot of things in my life I’d have to give up for that kind of fame. My education, my hobbies, my friends and family- I wouldn’t have time for any of that. Even if being rich and famous might be fun for a little while, those are the things that truly bring me joy. I wouldn’t give that up for the world.”

Shadow Mishima just scoffs, rolling his eyes dismissively. “Oh, please- like any of that can compare to what I’m offering. What’s the love of a few compared to the love of thousands? Millions? You’re just being naive. Friends and family will all end up leaving you in the end, but when you have enough fans, there’s always going to be someone there for you. There’s no contest.” He huffs, becoming more agitated the more their arguing continues. “Stop kidding yourself and just accept my offer. Then you’ll see how right I am.”

“None of those fans truly know you, though. How can they truly love you if they barely know anything about the real you?” Akira questions, and he can tell that hit a nerve the second the words leave his mouth, watching his expression shift from wide-eyed shock to despair, before scowling in rage again.

“I don’t want them to know the real me! Haven’t you ever considered that?!” He raises his voice, nearly shouting now, fingers balled into fists. “You wouldn’t understand- you’re just like the Phantom Thieves, you’re all perfect and you don’t even have to try. You have no idea what it’s like to be me, so stop with all this ‘be yourself’ bullshit!”

“The Phantom Thieves aren’t perfect, and neither am I…” He starts carefully, but even if this feels like dangerous territory, he keeps pressing onward, hoping desperately that he could get through to him. “You don’t have to be perfect to be worthy of love. You don’t need all of this to be loved or recognized. I know you, Mishima. You deserve to be loved for who you are-”

“SHUT UP!” The shadow snaps, standing up from his seat, smacking away the hands of the cognition as he tries to reach out and calm him down. “You don’t know me- you don’t know anything! Nobody could love such a- such a worthless coward!”

“You’re not-”

“Yes, I am! Don’t lie to me!” He’s seething, but his eyes shine with tears that he frantically blinks back. “I’ve always been a fucking coward- too afraid to stand up for myself, too afraid of him- it’s my fault that everyone used to hate Akira, you know that? My only friend and I ruined his reputation all because I couldn’t take any more ‘one on one practice’. I’m weak. I’m selfish. It’s my fault they spread rumors about him, it’s my fault my parents hate me, it’s my fault that Shiho almost-!”

His voice breaks, choking into a sob as the tears building in his eyes finally overflow and stream down his cheeks with a shudder. He’s shaking too hard to stand, so he drops back onto the couch, covering his face with one hand as he fruitlessly tries to fight back the cries that bubble up from his throat. Akira’s not sure what to say anymore- he hadn’t expected things to escalate so quickly, and he really didn’t expect to see him break down like this, but it was painful to watch, to know the root of his suffering, his self-loathing. To think that he blamed himself for Shiho’s suicide attempt… No wonder he had such a hard time forgiving himself- even if that hatred should be aimed at Kamoshida, not at himself, another victim. For a moment he’s frozen, but can’t just sit here and watch him cry like this. Without thinking he stands up, sitting next to him on the couch and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Mishima… Mishima, look at me.” He speaks softly, feeling awful as those golden eyes meet his and all he can see is the overwhelming guilt and shame filling them. “It’s not your fault. Kamoshida abused you- it’s not your fault that you were afraid of him. Anyone in your position would be. He had power over you and he made you do things you didn’t want to do… It’s his fault, not yours.”

“None of this would’ve happened if I were just stronger- if I just stood up to him. If I could just be like the Phantom Thieves, then…”

“Would you say that about any of your teammates?” He waits for a response, but when the other falls silent he continues on, wishing more than anything that he could take all this pain away from him. “You would never expect that of them, right? So why do you expect more of yourself? It’s not fair to you. None of the Phantom Thieves were in the position you were in. If they had, they might have been just as scared…”

There’s a long silence between them as Akira lets the shadow cry the last of his tears, sobs eventually trailing off into weak sniffling, before Shadow Mishima sits up a little straighter, wiping the wet streaks from his face. This whole time, he hadn’t leaned on his false conception of Akira for comfort- it seems like maybe he’d actually listened. As painful as it was, the embers of hope ignite in his heart- maybe it really was possible. Maybe, just maybe, he could really change his perspective this way.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out on you like that…” Shadow Mishima sniffles, giving a weak chuckle as he stares down at his hands, wringing them nervously- the first time he’d seen this version of him anxious. “You probably hate me now, huh? I wouldn’t blame you.”

“I don’t hate you for having feelings, Mishima. It’s okay.” He gives him a reassuring smile, moving his hand from his shoulder to ruffle his hair lightly. “I appreciate that you were able to be real with me. You should be honest more often, you know? We’re friends, after all.”

“Heh… Yeah, friends.” The way he says it is strange, almost sarcastic in a melancholy way, but still, the words seem to do well enough to comfort him, his demeanor lightening. “You’re too kind… I don’t understand it, really.” He pauses for a moment, before he shoots Akira a questioning look, confusion temporarily taking over his expression once more. “Wait… How do you know so much about what happened with Kamoshida? I didn’t tell you that before, did I?”

His heart stops for a moment- if his identity is revealed now, it might ruin all of the progress they just made! No, no, he can’t let that happen- “Well, I saw the incident on the news after the Phantom Thieves changed his heart. Since he was their first target, it would make sense that they were students there… And since you said Akira was your classmate, it wasn’t hard to figure out…” He reasons, and it’s a bit clumsy, but it’s enough for Shadow Mishima to relax again, laughing a bit more genuinely this time.

“Ha… You sure did your research, huh? I guess that makes sense… Maybe you do know me better than I thought.” His nerves seem to ebb away, turning to fully face Akira, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “Hey… I know you said we were friends, but is that really all it is?” His voice is a strange tone somewhere halfway between confident and uncertain, the shadow’s eyes searching his for answers as he inches closer. “You know, you’ve been so nice to me all this time, and not just because I’m famous… And you’re handsome too, even with that mask on. Did you really go so far out of your way to get to know me just for the sake of friendship?”

… What? Just when Akira’s starting to feel like he has a solid grasp on things, the shadow pulls the rug out from under him and leaves him flailing for a response, staring back at him like a deer in headlights. More than friends? He’s been a bit flirty before, sure, but never this forward. His mouth goes dry, and before he can come up with a decent response the shadow moves even closer, one hand on his shoulder as the other feels the edges of his mask, practically in his lap at this point. Between the complete tonal shift and trying and failing miserably to grapple with his own feelings, Akira is utterly and completely at a loss. Not that Mishima’s shadow seems to mind.

“Heh… Your face is getting so red. I’m right, aren’t I?” He grins, gaining back some of his cockiness, but there’s something else beneath the surface that softens it. Some genuine desire, no, a need to be loved, so desperately that it’s almost pitiful. He looks at Akira like he could save him just by saying yes, like he was the missing piece he’d been looking for all along and everything would be perfect if he just told him he loved him. “Is that why you’re dressed as a Phantom Thief? Are you here to steal my heart?”

Grabbing one of his hands, Akira can do nothing to stop him as he guides it to lay over his chest, right where his heart should be. “But my heart’s still right here. You can’t just reach in and steal it, can you?” And yet he feels nothing beneath his palm, no pulse in contrast to his own racing heartbeat- just a hollow cavity beneath his ribs. It’s too much to take in at once, and he pulls his hand away, still unable to say a single word. Shadow Mishima seems to take the hint, and he pulls away from him with a huff, though he’s not too upset, getting off the couch and circling back around to the cognition, still dutifully keeping watch over him.

“Well, don’t get too excited. No matter how interesting you are, nobody could possibly compare to my perfect Akira.” He hums, content to wrap his arms around the false vision of himself, leaning his head against his chest, a possessive glint in his eye. “I don’t need anyone else. Right, darling?”

It’s too much. His head is reeling and he feels dizzy, his pulse rushing so fast he wouldn’t be shocked if he went into cardiac arrest- he just needs to get out of here, now. He can’t think about anything else with everything that was swirling in his mind like a storm, wreaking havoc on his rationality- without another word, he makes a b-line for the door, not bothering to say goodbye as he rushes to the elevator. He doesn’t even notice the backup team trying to catch up to him from down the hall, unable to hear them over the frantic sound of his own heart. Before he knows it he’s on the first floor, pushing the doors open, only faintly aware that the others are calling after him as he finally, finally leaves that suffocating building, leaving the Metaverse behind before anyone can get a word in.

He practically gasps as he finds himself back in his room, the comfort of his familiar surroundings finally giving him a chance to just calm down and breathe. He felt like he had whiplash from everything that had just happened… He takes a deep breath and flops down on his bed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to go over everything. Mishima’s shadow breaking down on him like that, and then trying to make a move on him… Really, it shouldn’t have gotten such a reaction out of him, but for some reason he just… Panicked. Does Mishima really feel that way towards him? Or is he just latching onto him because he’s the only person who’s ever shown him this much kindness? And where does that leave Akira in all of this…?

God, maybe he really is in too deep.

Chapter Text

“Akira! Are you okay?” Ann is the first to speak as the backup team returns to LeBlanc’s attic, finding him sitting on the edge of his bed with a look of frustrated contemplation on his face. He looks up once he hears her voice, but she’s by his side before he can say anything, concerned frown creasing her features. “We tried to talk to you before you left, but it was like you didn’t even hear us… What happened to shake you up so badly?”

“Morgana stayed behind to get the others- did the shadow turn hostile? You should’ve asked for our help…” Makoto asks, looking just as sympathetic, albeit from a further distance than the blonde, only taking a few steps closer as she searches his expression for answers.

“No, that’s not it…” Akira murmurs, gray eyes downcast with shame- he wishes he had a better answer for them, really. What is he supposed to say? Shadow Mishima flirted with him a little too hard and he freaked out for some reason? It sounds so ridiculous in hindsight, but all the flustered confusion and panic had completely overwhelmed him like never before. It’s embarrassing, honestly- he’s supposed to be their leader, how is it that he can’t get a grip on his own emotions? “I guess it’s kind of the opposite, actually…”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Ann presses, and he can’t meet her gaze, his heart rate starting to pick up again just at the recollection.

“Well… We made some really good progress today, for one. Obviously his heart hasn’t changed yet, but he got vulnerable and he actually listened to me- well, I think he did, at least. So it went well overall, but…” He purses his lips, hesitant to say- but at least for now, it was just Makoto and Ann. It’s a little less intimidating than admitting this to the entire team. “I guess I just feel like maybe I’m getting too close to his shadow. I know it sounds stupid, but he was sorta… Making a move on me, and I just… Didn’t know how to handle it?”

The uncertainty in his voice is uncharacteristic of him, and he half expects the other thieves to tell him he’s being ridiculous or poke fun at him, but he’s relieved to find that they seem to be taking him seriously, especially Ann, a thoughtful pout on her face as she takes in everything he says.

“I see… Well, I know Ryuji’s joked about it before, but it is pretty clear that Mishima feels something for you, so I can’t say I’m too surprised.” She murmurs, glancing over at the brunette before focusing her attention back on Akira. “Did it freak you out because you don’t feel the same way, or…? I mean, unwanted advances would make anyone panic.”

“No, no, it’s not that- I guess I don’t know how I feel about it. About him. I mean, I care about him a lot and all, but…” He trails off, teeth digging nervously into his bottom lip. He can feel his face beginning to heat up again, and he wishes he still had his mask on to hide the way his cheeks flush. “I’m the first friend he’s had, at least in a long time. I can’t tell if it’s just because I’m all he has, you know? And if that’s the case, then- if I do feel that way about him- I would just feel like I’m taking advantage. He’s already had that happen to him enough times as it is…”

“Yeah, that does sound confusing… I wish I had the answers for you, but regardless, I know you’ll figure it out with time. Being confronted with that kind of thing before you’re ready can definitely be overwhelming, so I can’t blame you.” She gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, and there’s a glint of knowing in those blue eyes- like she understands more than she’s letting on but just can’t tell him.

“Do you think it’d be best to stop meeting with his shadow, then?” Makoto is understanding as well, but pragmatic as always, trying to figure out how to move forward first and foremost- relationship issues are far from her expertise. “If getting this close to his shadow is having such an effect on you, it might be best to focus our efforts on finding the treasure instead. You don’t need to keep pushing yourself if it’s doing more harm than good.”

“No… I don’t want to give up yet. I feel like I was closer than ever to changing his heart today. I know I could persuade him if I just had a few more shots at it.” Akira insists, immediately shaking his head at the idea of letting this go. “I was just caught off guard today, that’s all. Next time, I’ll be expecting it, so it won’t be as… shocking.”

“If you’re sure…” The brunette reluctantly agrees, her expression showing her uncertainty about how this was going to play out, but she respects his decision nonetheless. They’re not on a time limit, at least not yet, so she doesn’t have much reason to push too hard for changing strategies for now.

“I’m sure.” He affirms, taking a deep breath and letting it go with a sigh. “I’m sorry for all the drama lately. I don’t mean to keep causing problems, it’s just… Complicated.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it! He’s your friend, of course this is going to be more stressful for you than the other palaces. Well, a different kind of stress, at least.” Ann reassures him with a smile, trying her hardest to make him feel better. “Just keep doing your best, we’re all here for you.”

He’s about to thank her, but the serene quiet of the attic is broken when there are suddenly four more people (and one more cat) in the room, the remaining Phantom Thieves returning from the palace at last.

“Dude! What gives?” Ryuji exclaims, rightfully confused, and Akira can’t help but groan. He does not want to explain this whole thing to all of them, but he supposes he doesn’t have much of a choice… They deserve to know the truth, though he’s going to leave out as many of the embarrassing details as he can.

At least he’ll get to check on Mishima tomorrow… Hopefully he took his words to heart.

---------------------------

Returning to school on Monday was somewhat nerve-wracking, after what happened in the palace. Akira had always sort of known there was more to Mishima’s feelings than simple friendship, how could he not after everything he’d seen in there? But selfishly he hadn’t wanted to complicate things further, so he’d tried to just pretend like it was normal. Something he could unpack later, once the palace had disappeared and Mishima was in a more stable mental state, but it’s impossible to avoid thinking about it now. And it seems like thinking about it is just about all he can do for the rest Sunday night into Monday morning, replaying those words over and over in his mind- I know you said we were friends, but is that really all there is to it? Did you really go so far out of your way out of friendship? He doesn’t have the answer, honestly. He doesn’t know what it is that compels him to push himself this far for Mishima’s sake, he just knows that he cares and he can’t bear to see him self-destruct, not to mention the state he’ll be in if they steal his heart…

He wishes the train ride to school was longer so that he had more time to get his act together, but his head is still completely preoccupied with the previous night’s encounter as he takes his seat at his desk, zoning out as Ann and Ryuji chat nearby before class starts. Their words completely fly over his head, instead he just stares at the door, waiting- is he going to be late again today? Shockingly, he gets his answer more than half a minute before class starts- Mishima is actually on time, and he looks a lot better than he does on most school days, his uniform looking freshly cleaned and he’s a little more put-together than usual, at least on the surface. Was he actually taking his advice seriously? Did his conversation with his shadow last night have an effect on his habits?

There’s no way to know for sure, but seeing the way Mishima glances his way and gives him a sheepish smile and a little wave, not wanting to interrupt the conversation the others were having- it makes him feel infinitely better than he did before. He was happier and seemingly healthier, and really, that’s what he was doing all of this for, right? To think that this positive change could be because of him… His anxious mind settles, feeling content with that knowledge for now, despite how much further he still has to improve. It’s a start, a really good start.

Lunch rolls around before he knows it, and for once Mishima is the one to approach his desk first, digging in his backpack and pulling out the shirt he’d borrowed, clean and neatly folded into a black square of fabric.

“Um- here you go! Thanks again for letting me borrow it…” He’s just a little too enthusiastic in that endearingly awkward way Akira’s gotten used to at this point, just smiling and tucking it into his backpack- unfortunately it’s going to be covered in cat hair immediately, thanks to Morgana, but he appreciates the thought.

“It’s no problem. I would’ve felt like a jerk if I made you walk home covered in coffee.” He chuckles, before glancing back at Mishima’s desk, raising a brow at him. “You wanna eat at my desk today?”

“Sure! I mean… Yeah, sure.” He’s a little too quick to agree, pulling his chair over to sit at his desk- and would you look at that, he even remembered to pack a lunch today, too. He can’t help but feel a little proud, even if that really was the bare minimum he could be doing to take care of himself.

They make idle chat as they both eat their lunches, complaining about classes and whatever rumors Mishima’s been reading on the internet, nothing too deep- but still, Akira enjoys every second of it, and he knows Mishima does, too. He watches him as he rambles about the gossip about celebrities that had found its way into the Phansite comments, and he finds himself listening less and observing more, watching the way he talks faster when he’s excited and giggles at his own little jokes before he’s even done saying them. Those hazel eyes of his look brighter now that exhaustion isn’t draining the light from them, and he can’t help noticing the way his cheeks always flush a bit whenever they’re talking, dusting his face in a light shade of pink. In fact, that flush just keeps getting darker, starting to turn a little red- he realizes too late that Mishima had stopped talking and he’d just been staring at him in lieu of a response.

“Uh… Do I have something on my face?” Mishima asks tentatively, already reaching to wipe some invisible speck of rice away, and Akira just shakes his head, trying to hide his own growing embarrassment at his behavior.

“No, you’re fine- I just noticed how good you look today.” He almost chokes on his words, wanting to slap himself for letting something like that come out of his mouth. “Healthier, I mean. Did you sleep well last night?” Wow, nice save.

“Oh! Um- yeah, I guess I fell asleep early last night… I mean, early for me, heh.” He laughs and rubs the back of his neck, and by some miracle it seems like he’d bought Akira’s lame excuse.

“Good, I’m glad. I knew I could trust you to take care of yourself.” He hums, hoping that his trust would make for some good motivation to keep up with maintaining his health. It seems to make Mishima happy at the very least, and the rest of their lunch period goes over just as smoothly, a refreshing break from all the stress that this whole situation had been putting on him.

For once, he doesn’t feel the need to worry when he bids Mishima goodbye at the end of the day, heading off to meet with the other Phantom Thieves- maybe he really was starting to improve, and even if his extra sleep was just a happy accident, he still felt like it was a sign of things to come. He was so close to changing his shadow’s heart, if he could just have a few more good conversations like that with him- for the first time in what feels like forever, he’s fully optimistic. After all, things can only get better from here.

---------------------------

Yuuki’s got a bounce in his step as he leaves school for the day and starts his walk home- he’d been dreading coming back to school as he always did, knowing that he’d have to start waking up early again… That, and there was this nagging anxiety in the back of his mind that things were just going too well right now. He’d had a great weekend with Kurusu, and some part of him felt like there had to be some problem coming to pull them apart again… But much to his relief, everything had been completely fine- better than fine, actually. Kurusu actually said he looked good- maybe not in the sense that Yuuki was hoping for, but still! For once in his life, the good times just keep on rolling, and he doesn’t think anything could bring down his good mood right now.

On top of it all, he’d stumbled across some pretty interesting rumors while spending some time researching where he could find some medication that would help him stay awake the other day. Apparently, there were whispers going around about this back-alley doctor who would sell prescriptions to anyone who asked… In fact, the clinic in question- Takemi Medical Clinic- was pretty close to the cafe that Kurusu worked at, so it wouldn’t be too hard to find. If the rumors were true, the solution to his problems was right within his reach. He’d be able to stay just as productive, but he wouldn’t be so tired all the time- and then Kurusu could praise him for his work without any of the pity he got now. This could be perfect.

… But maybe it’s too good to be true, he finds himself thinking as he exits the school courtyard and starts his walk to the train station. Kurusu was usually busy with his top-secret Phantom Thief business, so he still walked home alone much of the time, and it always gave him time to think- or overthink- for better or for worse. Even if it’s a victimless crime, it’s still a crime, isn’t it? And there could be side effects, not to mention the possibility of addiction, depending on what he ends up getting… Maybe this is all a little too extreme. He should do whatever it takes to make his dream a reality, he knows that, but those caring words from Kurusu that he so often brushed off kept coming back to him, making him hesitate to go through with it. Well, he should probably do some more research before he makes any rash decisions, at the very least…

On his way to the station, he takes a little detour to stop by a vending machine, an empty alley away from the usual passerby’s. He’s rummaging around his wallet for change when he hears a voice that makes his blood run cold and his muscles freeze, almost causing him to drop his coins all over the place.

“Yo, Mishima!”

He doesn’t want to look, even as he hears multiple sets of footsteps approach him, hands beginning to shake as he fumbles to put his wallet away. He would recognize the voices of his bullies anywhere, and his heart pounds as his mind goes into fight or flight, not having the time to think of what to say before one of them grabs his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and look at them- all three of them, flinching away from the touch. The good mood he’d been in before came crashing down instantly- they’d stopped hassling him as much lately, so he thought maybe their hearts had been changed, but…

“Whaaaat, got nothing to say to your old friends?” One of them drawls, the tallest of the group, dark eyes shining with cruel amusement. “Didja have fun this weekend?”

This weekend…? What are they talking about? “Just leave me alone…” He mutters, gripping the strap of his bag tight for security, able to feel their stares boring into him despite keeping his eyes on the ground.

“Aw, no need to be so shy. We already know about your little sleepover with your new boyfriend.” The one who’d grabbed his shoulder sneers, a brunette with a wicked grin on his lips, and that one simple word makes Yuuki’s stomach drop in an instant, face paling. The shock must’ve been obvious as the trio immediately breaks out into laughter, letting go of him now that they’ve got his full attention.

“A little birdie told me they saw Kurusu walking you home the other morning~ I always knew you swung that way! After all, no girl would ever settle for you.”

“No kidding, I mean, just look at him. It’s too obvious.” The shortest of the three snorts, looking him up and down with disgust. “Especially with how you’re always eating together these days- shouldn’t you be a little more discrete?”

His head is reeling- he’d been so caught up in his own feelings at the moment that he hadn’t even considered how it would look if they were seen together, and now his mistakes are being shoved in his face- he should never have let his guard down like that. Of course he couldn’t just be happy! He should’ve known the rumors would fly and these assholes would interfere and make his life hell again. He feels like an idiot for not seeing this coming, his heart feeling like it was withering and dying as his throat tightens and makes it hard to breathe.

“It’s not like that-” He manages, trying his best to stand up for himself, for the sake of both his and Kurusu’s reputation, but they just keep talking over him, not giving him any room to defend himself.

“You know what? Good for you! Ya finally found someone who can tolerate being with such a loser.” Sarcasm drips from the taller boy’s voice, narrowing his eyes and making Yuuki feel so small, so insignificant under his scrutiny. “But seriously, you’re going for a criminal like Kurusu? You must be desperate to sleep with a violent delinquent like him!”

“Yeah, you should know, seeing as you leaked his record and all.” The brunette scoffs, pleased to see the guilt that overtakes his expression at the reminder of his own weakness. “But hey, maybe that’s the point! Maybe you’re a masochist deep down, huh?”

“Ha! Didn’t you get enough beatings in gym class? You must’ve learned to like it after all that time, isn’t that right? Who knew it’d turn you into such a freak.”

“So, how does it compare? Can Kurusu hit as hard as Kamo-”

“Shut up!” Yuuki suddenly snaps back, meeting their eyes only to glare back at them as rage temporarily overrides his fear. They could talk shit about him all they want, but to imply that Kurusu would do something like that to him- to anyone- that he would stoop to Kamoshida’s level… He just couldn’t take it. Even if he couldn’t stand up for himself, he couldn’t just let them say that about his friend. His savior. “You don’t know anything about-”

His voice dies in his throat as one of them raises their fist and he feels his heart stop, and for a moment he feels like he’s back in that office, feels just as terrified and nauseous as he did every time he knew Kamoshida was about to take his anger out on him. The expected blow never comes- the boy just pulls his arm back and cackles, the others joining in his laughter, but Yuuki remains frozen in place. He can hear his voice again, cornering him against the desk, giving him nowhere to run.

“Who do you like the most on the girls team?” The question sent a shiver down his spine- there’s only one reason he’d ask something like that, and he wanted no part in it.

He could see the mouths of his bullies moving, but he couldn’t hear any of it, barely processing what was in front of him as his mind races, a deluge of bad memories rushing to the forefront of his mind as their laughter rings hollow in his ears.

“What do you mean, none of them? You’re a boy, you must like at least one of them. Come on, help me pick.” Yuuki just keeps shaking his head, heart hammering in his chest so fast that he feels like vomiting. His self-preservation screams at him to just spit out a name, any name, he knows what happens when he doesn’t cooperate, but he can’t get a single word out. His mind blanks- knowing what will happen to whoever’s name comes out of his mouth, it’s like his brain just forces him to forget every single one of them. He can’t do it. He just can’t. Kamoshida glares down, towering over him.

The boys in front of him are starting to look at him weird, off-put by his complete lack of response, or maybe just bored that they can’t seem to get a rise out of him anymore. One of them waves a hand in front of his face obnoxiously. He still can’t move.

“Or maybe you don’t like girls, is that it? Ha!” His laugh is abrupt, cruel, loud in the small space he’s backed into, glowering at him in contempt. “No wonder nobody wants anything to do with you. You’re disgusting.” His calloused hand flexes, the tell-tale sign that he’s about to strike, as Yuuki has come to learn. “Well, I was going to be nice and give you a break today, but if you won’t fess up then I guess you’ll just have to take responsibility.”

Yuuki closes his eyes, willing his mind to go blank, wishing he could leave his body behind so that he wouldn’t have to remember what happens next.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s back in that alley, next to the vending machine. He’s alone now, the three bullies having left at some point, feeling off-balance with the way his whole body trembles. He feels sick. He feels like his wobbly knees are just going to give out and he’ll collapse into a crying, hiccuping mess, but he doesn’t. His brain feels foggy and numb as he lets out a shaky breath, having to put all of his energy and focus into just figuring out what he needed to do next. He was… On his way home from school, right? Yeah, the train station is just down the street… He just needs to go home. That’s all… That’s all…

He absentmindedly fishes for his earbuds as he walks, turning the volume up as loud as he could as he wanders through the bustling station and finds his way to the line he needs to get on, the blaring instrumentals preventing him from thinking too much about anything, a dam against the millions of thoughts that would otherwise demand his attention. The entire ride home is a blur, he hardly remembers sitting down and he almost misses his stop, the time slipping through his fingers like sand. Nothing feels quite real as he weaves his way through the crowd and finds himself on the familiar streets leading back to his house, and it still doesn’t click with him as he enters into the usual silence, not bothering to announce his return as he shuffles to the bathroom. He feels disgusting. He needs to shower.

The water runs so hot that it burns as he strips down and closes the curtain behind him. There’s a few moments of peace as the scalding water runs over his body and reddens his skin with the heat, but the second he focuses enough to try and actually wash himself it all hits him like a train, a sob clawing its way up his throat as tears blur his vision, mixing with the rest of the water as they wash down the drain. It hurt. Everything hurt so bad, like all his old wounds had reopened themselves- he just wants to tear his hair out and scream, scream until his throat is sore and his voice is gone, but he can’t. The silence of this house is suffocating and all he can do is cry to himself pathetically, slumping to sit down and lean against the shower wall.

The words of those bullies- the words of Kamoshida- cut so deep because they were true. He’d been trying to deny it all this time, but he really was awful, wasn’t he? Kurusu was being so kind to him, and he just couldn’t help taking things too far, despite knowing it was wrong. Despite knowing that Kurusu would never in a million years feel the same way about him. And yet he let this continue, let his thoughts get out of hand, because he just liked him too much. He selfishly allowed his friend to get close to him knowing it would only fuel those repulsive thoughts plaguing his mind, those desires he so desperately wished he could be rid of… God, if he only knew how he felt, it would all be over in an instant. It seems like everybody else already knows, so it’s only a matter of time, isn’t it? Everything will be ruined, and it was all his fault for getting too carried away. He should’ve just kept his distance, he should’ve known this was all too good to be true--

But, wait… None of this would be happening if their hearts had been changed, would it? He gave Kurusu all of their names and he said he’d look into it… So why were they still treating him like this? If Kurusu was really his friend, then why wouldn’t he just listen to him? Why couldn’t he do this one thing for him? He tries to rationalize it, after all, it’s not like he told Kurusu that those were his bullies, maybe he just… Got caught up with more important things… But he’d reminded him multiple times, so why would he just keep ignoring him like that? The bitter thorns of resentment prick at his heart and it hurts more than anything to feel this way about the person he admired, idolized, loved so much… But how could he not, when he’d just thrown him under the bus like this? Does he really care, or had this just been an act all along? Why would he lie to him? What had he done to deserve this? It feels like he’d almost had it all, and now it’s all slipping away, everything’s out of his control and there’s nothing he can do about it--

Yuuki’s not sure how long it’s been, but by the time he manages to stop crying the water has run ice cold. He’s shivering as he finally turns off the water, his sobs having subsided into weak sniffling, leaving a throbbing ache in his temples. For a moment he just sits there, freezing, staring as the last bits of water swirl and go down the drain. Was he just going to let his future go down the drain, too? No- no, there’s still something he can do. He still has the Phansite. He just needs to keep working on it. If he can just keep those feelings hidden and make the Phantom Thieves famous, he could still have it all, couldn’t he? It’s a desperate mentality, but it’s all he has. He can’t let go of it now. He’d have nothing left if he did.

He almost goes right back to scrolling through the comments as he dries himself off and shuffles back to his room, but picking out requests can wait, since the Phantom Thieves clearly weren’t doing any of them. No, what he needs to do now is find the address of that pharmacy he’d heard about online- he doesn’t care about the risks anymore. Nobody else truly cares, so why should he? That’s right, the side effects don’t matter. The only thing that matters is putting his all into the Phansite- he should’ve never let himself get distracted. Once he’s famous, nobody will be able to talk to him like that again…

---------------------------

Yuuki chews his lip anxiously as he glances up from his phone, double checking that he’d put in the right address. It didn’t look like much on the outside, but this had to be it, right…? His nerves were nagging at the back of his mind, telling him that this was a bad idea and he should just get out of here- he must be crazy for thinking this doctor would actually prescribe him anything, right? But if the rumors were true… Screw it! He just needs to stop being such a coward and do this, for his own sake! Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, he opens the door as quietly as possible, squinting for a moment in the fluorescent light that bathed the lobby in a seasick green color.

“Is this your first visit?”

He stiffens, not having expected to immediately have attention on him… But he is the only one here, so he nods, getting a closer look at the woman as he walks up to the front desk. She’s not exactly what he’d expect a doctor to look like, with her choppily cut black hair and studded choker- but then again, given everything he’s heard, he should’ve expected the unexpected, he supposes.

“Um, y-yeah… I’ve just been feeling really… Exhausted and lethargic lately, so I was hoping I could see you and, uh, find a solution…” He’s fully aware of how awkward and out of place he sounds, clenching his jaw to prevent himself from just apologizing and running out of there, but much to his relief it doesn’t seem like the doctor thinks much of his nervous behavior.

“I see… Alright, fine, it’s not like I have any other patients right now. Follow me to the exam room.” She huffs, looking just a little annoyed with the situation, but even still, Yuuki counts this as a victory, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he follows her lead. He really didn’t think he’d get this far, to be honest…

“So, tell me more about what’s bothering you.” She prods as soon as he sits down on the stool across from her, and he would laugh if he weren’t so tense- god, where does he even start? But this isn’t therapy, so he’ll just stick to physical symptoms- whatever he needs to say to get what he wants.

“Well, like I said, I’ve been exhausted… No matter how much I sleep, I just feel so sluggish all day. It makes it really hard to concentrate on anything…” It’s half-true, true enough that it didn’t feel like a total lie, and it comes out more naturally than he expects it to.

“Hm… With kids your age, it’s usually just stress.” She hums, not looking very impressed, tapping her pen against her clipboard. “How’s your sleep been? Do you wake up in the middle of the night and have trouble falling back asleep, or staying asleep?”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Sleeping pills are the last thing he needs. “I sleep just fine, as far as I know, nothing like that… In- in fact, I probably sleep more than I should. But even if I sleep well, I’m still tired. I don’t know what else to do…”

“Hmm. Is that so?” She gives him a skeptical look, eyeing him cautiously, and for a moment he’s afraid that she’s caught on to his lie. “So what is it exactly that you’re hoping I’ll give you?”

It feels like a dangerous question, because it can’t be that easy- his nails dig into the palms of his hand, and he shifts uncomfortably, trying but failing to keep eye contact with her intense gaze. “I… I don’t know, just something to help me wake up and focus a bit more? Caffeine just doesn’t have any effect on me, so…”

“So you want stimulants. That’s what you’re after.” She clicks her tongue, leaning back in her chair and raising a brow at him. “I’m not stupid, you know. You heard the rumors about my clinic, didn’t you? That’s the real reason you’re here, isn’t it?”

He feels like he could just die right about now, heart rattling against his ribs, but he’s already gotten this far- if there’s any chance that she could help him, he needs to keep pushing, even if deep down he just wants to curl up in a ball and never try something this stupid again. “I-I mean, if that’s what will help, then sure. I… I did hear the rumors, but I just thought you might be able to help me. Nobody else will take me seriously, and exams are coming up…”

“Hmph.” She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring him down, but eventually her expression softens, though not by much. “I recognize that uniform- you’re from Shujin, aren’t you?” She smiles a little when he slowly nods, sighing and setting her pen and clipboard down. “You kids have sure had it rough over there, huh. Prep school’s hard enough as it is without things like that going on… Well, fine, you’re in luck. I’ll prescribe you something to help you out. You don’t look like any trouble, and the last student your age I treated has yet to cause me problems…”

For a moment he just stares at her, dumbfounded. Did that really just work? He can’t even believe it, his jaw agape in disbelief, before he scrambles for a response, praying that this is real and he wasn’t about to screw it up somehow. “Oh, uh- wow- thank you!”

“Before you get too excited, I should let you know- all the medicine prescribed here is my own original creation, sold in hospitals all over Tokyo. It just so happens that I’ve been developing a new stimulant… I’m not the kind of doctor that’s going to give you checkups or anything like that, okay? You’ll need to take care of yourself. But if that’s okay with you, then you can stop by whenever.”

“Yeah- yeah, that’s fine by me. That on its own is helpful enough…”

“Good, good. There’s just one problem…” She folds her arms across her chest, sharp eyes watching closely for his reaction. “This kind of thing isn’t exactly free, you know, and I really doubt a high school kid like you could foot the bill. However, I have a different way you can earn the prescription.”

“Right… What is it?” Oh god, what was he getting himself into?

“Well, a while ago a kid just like you came in, with a similar problem. So, instead of paying upfront, I gave him the medicine, and in exchange he would test my new medical formulas for me. I couldn’t find anyone else to do the job, so it was perfect, but now… Well, he must’ve gotten busy, ‘cause I hardly see him around.” She explains casually, as if that weren’t a highly questionable arrangement, but who is Yuuki to judge? “What I’m saying is, I need a new test subject. If you’re willing to stop in once in a while, maybe every other week, I’ll consider that your payment.”

That… Sounds shady as hell. She basically wants him to be a lab rat for the new medications she was cooking up? Common sense tells him that it’s a terrible idea, but then again… Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? And it wasn’t like he’d have to do this all the time- just a couple times a month. Really, if he ignores his worries about what the medication will do to him, doesn’t it just sound like the world’s easiest part time job?

“... And the last guy was fine after trying all that medicine?” He asks tentatively, just to ease his own anxiety about the strange situation he’d found himself in.

“Yup, totally fine. I mean, he passed out a few times, but the effects never lasted more than a handful of hours at worst. You’ll be alright. Probably. Teenagers tend to bounce back pretty damn fast- that’s why you’re valuable for these studies.”

“Well… Alright, I-I’ll do it. That’s a fair deal.” He agrees, and the doctor seems to relax more once he does, a mysterious smile on her face as she stands up, looking quite satisfied with herself.

“Good, we have a deal then. And I’m sure this is obvious, but everything that happens here is strictly confidential, got it? I’m only doing this because I need a new test subject, so I don’t want a bunch of high school kids lining up thinking this is some kind of pill mill… So, I won’t tell anyone about your involvement here, and you won’t tell anyone about our arrangement. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that, it makes me feel so old… Well, at least you respect your superiors.” She half-complains, before she starts heading for one of the doors that leads further into the building. “We’ll do your first clinical trial, and then I’ll give you the medicine and you can go home.”

Yuuki lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding once she leaves the room, presumably to grab whatever experimental medicine he’d be trying. It actually worked… He can’t believe his luck. It’s a good thing he came when he did, otherwise she might’ve already filled that position and he’d be out of options… This was exactly the kind of victory he needed after a god awful day like today. He sits up straight once she enters the room, holding a glass with a viscous red liquid like cough syrup filling it halfway. That looks nasty… But he’ll do whatever it takes. That’s what he’d promised himself, after all.

“Alright, ready for your first trial?”

He just nods as she hands him the glass, staring down at his own reflection in the strange fluid for a moment. Man, he looks like shit after his breakdown earlier, no wonder she didn’t find it hard to believe that he needed help… He makes the mistake of breathing in through his nose and gets a whiff of the stuff- oh god, that smelled terrible, some horrid mix of bitter and sour… But this was the only way to achieve his goal, right? For that, he’d give anything.

“Well… Here goes nothing,” He murmurs, before tilting his head back and trying to swallow it all in one go. It tastes worse than it smells and he ends up gagging a little, but thankfully he manages to get it down without too much trouble.

“Wow… You really did it, huh. I thought you’d at least hesitate a little more. You must be desperate.” She chuckles a bit, shaking her head. “You might want to lay down on the cot, if the effects are similar to the last test I did with it, you’re gonna start feeling disoriented soon.”

“Right, thanks…”

He’s already starting to feel a little dizzy as he stands up, the cot is only a few steps away but it feels much longer with the way his head is starting to swim. It’s stiff and uncomfortable, just as expected, but he’s thankful that he took her advice and laid down as his vision became unfocused, seeing twice as many lights above him as he should. He feels like he’s been in the dark for so long, his weary mind thinks- he wants the lights to be shining on him for once. It becomes easier to imagine as his mind drifts away in a blurry haze. One day, he’d finally get what he wants, the camera flashes, the spotlight… After being invisible for his entire life, all eyes would finally be on him…

… And as his consciousness begins to fade, he swears he can hear the ever-so-faint roar of applause.

Chapter Text

Akira’s in quite the good mood as he makes his way to school again on Tuesday morning, a small smile resting on his typically aloof expression as he approaches Shujin Academy. Unfortunately, too many of the Phantom Thieves were busy the previous night, so he couldn’t venture into the palace again, but he’s so sure of the progress they’d made last time that for once he doesn’t feel the need to worry about it. Though, now he was even more confused than before about their relationship… But still, they’re on track to changing Mishima’s heart, aren’t they? Things will get better soon enough, and they can figure the rest out from there. He waits at his desk while chatting with Ann and Ryuji, hoping he’d keep coming to class on time…

Unfortunately, those hopes are crushed the second Mishima arrives.

There’s something undeniably off about him the second Akira notices him enter the room, those dark eyes darting all around the classroom, seeming to look everywhere but him. He hardly even acknowledges Akira’s presence as he sits down at his desk, but in a strange way where he can tell that it’s intentional- he can see the effort it takes for his friend not to so much as glance his way, instead biting the inside of his cheek and pulling his phone out to get to work on the Phansite, the black and red interface recognizable even from across the room. It feels like everything they’d built has come crashing down all of a sudden, like he’s reverted back to the state he’d been in weeks ago for no apparent reason. Except… There’s something else that rubs him the wrong way about Mishima’s behavior. He somehow looks exhausted and energized at the same time- in fact, it’s like he has so much energy that he can’t properly contain it, his leg bouncing under his desk as he types more rapidly than he’d ever seen before. It almost reminds him of when he’d updated the Phansite, acting borderline manic, but without any of the joy and excitement he’d had back then…

“Mishima?”

He tries to get his attention, and he can tell that he heard him by the way he stiffens and almost turns his head his way before stopping himself, just shaking his head to try and brush him off. What the hell? He’d never acted like this before, and worst of all, Akira has no idea what he’s done wrong for Mishima to so blatantly give him the cold shoulder. Ann and Ryuji’s conversation fumbles into awkward silence for a moment as they notice too, frowning in confusion, but neither of them say anything, lest they make things worse by having Mishima overhear them.

The bell rings and it’s time for class before Akira can do a single thing about it, but that doesn’t stop him from texting his friends as soon as he gets the chance, feeling too restless and baffled to leave it be for now.

[Akira]: do you guys know what’s up with mishima today?
[Ryuji]: no idea dude. did u do smthn to piss him off?
[Akira]: not that I’m aware of. everything seemed fine when I last saw him… he was doing better, actually. i don’t know what could’ve happened.
[Ryuji]: maybe the shit that went down in the palace is screwing with his mood? like, subconsciously or whatever?
[Ann]: Actually, I think I might know what it is… But it would be better to talk about it during lunch.
[Ryuji]: damn, that serious huh?
[Akira]: okay.

His heart drops at that- maybe he should just be glad that someone had an explanation for him, but still, his brain works overtime to try and figure out what it could be and why Ann would have heard about it before him. What could have possibly happened in the span of a single day?

He tries to focus in class as the first hour ticks by, but he finds it impossible, his eyes constantly wandering over to Mishima as his mind replays every recent interaction for some kind of hint. That restless energy he’d noticed in his friend hadn’t gone away in the slightest- he’d become accustomed to Mishima’s in-class habits over the months that they’d been classmates, but he’d never seen him have such a hard time just sitting still. There was rarely a moment where he wasn’t bouncing his leg, shaking his foot, tapping his fingers against his arm, fidgeting with a pencil- and yet when he caught a glimpse of his face, he looked so exhausted. Nothing about this seemed to add up, and he was growing more concerned by the minute.

It felt like an eternity before lunch rolled around, and as soon as the bell rings he immediately stands up, making a b-line for Mishima’s desk. Sure, Ann said she might know what was going on, but if there was any chance that he could get the truth straight from Mishima and possibly smooth things over, wouldn’t that be better?

“Hey, are you doing okay? You’ve been-“

He doesn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence before Mishima shakes his head, not meeting his eyes as he gets up in a hurry.

“Sorry, I can’t talk right now.”

And before he can get any answers he’s scurrying out of the room, keeping his head down as he exits out into the hallway and disappears. He’s avoiding him like he has the plague or something, so different from how endearingly clingy he’d been before. Well, it was worth a shot… He returns to his own seat, where Ann and Ryuji are waiting for him expectantly.

“Nothin’, huh?” Ryuji gives him an apologetic look, crossing his arms and leaning against his desk. “So, what’s going on? It must be pretty damn crazy if it’s got him avoiding you like that.”

“Well… It’s just a rumor I heard, but…” Ann starts cautiously, motioning for them to come closer so that nobody else will hear her. “A lot of people seem to think you guys are… You know, dating. Which, like, wouldn't be that much of a problem on its own, but… Some people are saying some pretty nasty things. I’m guessing he’s acting like that to try and put an end to the gossip.”

“Those assholes!” Ryuji barks, but quickly quiets down when those blue eyes sharpen and glare at him, just huffing and shaking his head. “I mean, seriously… Don’t they have anything better to do than talk shit?”

Akira’s heart sinks at the news- had his kindness really backfired so badly? All this time he was trying to get closer to him and make him feel better, but even that ended up hurting him… Even putting that aside, hadn’t Mishima been through enough already? He knew that he’d been pushed around for a long time, not to mention the abuse he’d faced at the hands of Kamoshida… Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

Then a thought occurred to him that made his blood run cold.

“… Do you think it’s those bullies? The ones he told us about…” The ones he requested they change the hearts of.

For a moment they both just stare at him, but he can see it click in their minds and they both grimace, Ann sucking in a sharp breath at the thought.

“I don’t know for sure who started it, but that’s definitely possible…” She sighs, her expression conflicted, as if arguing with herself in her mind. “What should we do? I mean, it can’t be right to just… let this happen.”

“Yeah, we gotta do something about those jerks!” Ryuji agrees, muscles tensing as if he was ready to start swinging just at the thought of it. He may not be super close with Mishima, but they’ve been in school together for years- he clearly cares about him enough to fight for him.

“I don’t know… But you’re right that we can’t do nothing.” Akira’s fists clench at his sides- but was stealing their hearts the right course of action? These guys are assholes, that’s for sure, and some part of him wants to do it- and another part of him just wants to fight them in the real world for what they’ve done- but he’s too worked up to make a rational decision right now. “We can talk to the others about it later and see what they think, but for now, I’m going to try and talk to Mishima about it after school. Maybe he’ll be more willing to talk if we meet somewhere private…”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. We’ll figure something out…” Ann agrees, eyes downcast with a silent regret. “I’ll try and find out exactly where this is coming from in the meantime.”

“Thank you, Ann… And thanks for being honest with me about this. I appreciate it.”

“Of course! We’re a team, you know? And more than that, we’re friends. I’ll do whatever I can to help out.” She smiles, but he can see the wariness at the edges of her expression, giving away how the worry had worn her down. He almost feels guilty for dragging them into what felt like a very personal conflict- but then again, if this really was the fault of those bullies, then this was a mistake on the part of the Phantom Thieves as a whole, wasn’t it? They’d all agreed not to change their hearts, under the current circumstances…

The others go on talking about less troublesome topics for the rest of their lunch break, but Akira can’t hear any of it- all he can do is stare at the door, waiting for Mishima to come back. To see if he was okay, if there was any sign that someone had done something to him. He enters the classroom at the very last second, as has become normal for him, and while there’s no signs of any physical strife, much to Akira’s relief, he still doesn’t look… Okay. His eyes are red, like he’d been crying, and there’s still that unnerving energy running through him, making him shaky and restless. Seeing him again like this and knowing what- or who- caused it almost makes him feel vengeful, fist clenching beneath his desk, and he has to force himself to take a deep breath and calm down. Acting out of anger isn’t going to be productive. He’s a Phantom Thief, he needs to be responsible with the power he’s been given… And he needs to get the full story from Mishima, first and foremost.

[Kurusu]: meet me on the rooftop after school? we need to talk.
[Mishima]: Okay.

That kind of short, cold response isn’t at all what he’s used to from him- he’s usually so excitable and enthusiastic in his texts- but to be honest, he’s relieved that he got a reply at all, given how unresponsive he’d been today. Hopefully that meant he’d be willing to open up about what had happened, too…

---------------------------

The rest of the day goes by painfully slow- every minute seems to last an hour when Akira is so anxious to figure out what was going on with his friend, but eventually his patience is rewarded as the bell rings, signaling the end of yet another school day. He wants to rush to the rooftop immediately, but he’s smarter than that- instead, he watches Mishima leave first, chatting with Ann and Ryuji long enough for their classmates to leave. Only then does he follow, knowing there’s less of a chance that any of those jerks that had been talking behind their backs will notice they’re meeting up again.

Mishima is already up on the roof, as he expected, fingers linked through the gaps in the fence as he stares down at the rest of campus. The fence had only been installed after the incident with Shiho- he can only imagine what he’s thinking about, the memories this must bring up for him. He feels bad for asking him to come here- he should have thought of that earlier, but it’s too late to change that. Instead, he needs to focus on the problem at hand.

“Mishima?” He calls out to him, and he watches the way he flinches, startled- it makes his own unease grow, seeing him so on edge.

“Ah, Kurusu…” Mishima weakly greets him as he turns around, looking everywhere but at Akira, eyes frantically darting around to make sure they’re alone. “Um- I’m sorry for ignoring you earlier, I know it was rude, but… We… we can’t be seen together anymore. A-at least not as often…” He cringes at his own words, wringing his hands nervously in front of him, and it hurts Akira’s heart to see him like this.

“Is this about the rumors?” He asks softly, stepping closer, and the boy tenses at the very mention of it, pursing his lips and squeezing his eyes shut.

“So you’ve heard?” He croaks, his voice sounding tight as he swallows a heavy lump in his throat, struggling to find his words. “They think that I’m- that we’re-” He can’t even bring himself to say it, just shaking his head before he finally meets Akira’s eyes, his own wide and desperate. “I tried to tell them! I told them it’s not like that, that you would never do something like that, but…”

“I would never do something like what?” He tilts his head, brows furrowing in concern and confusion, but it seems Mishima isn’t willing to divulge too many details. Akira can’t blame him.

“Th-they were saying some really horrible things about you… I’m sorry. It’s all my fault- if I had just stood my ground and refused to leak your record they wouldn’t be so awful to you, but…” His eyes are shiny with tears, choking up as he lowers his head in shame. “I guess nothing’s changed. They didn’t listen to me, a-and I’m the same coward I’ve always been… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay…” Akira speaks softly, reaching out to put a gentle hand on his shoulder, hoping to console him, careful to make sure the contact isn’t too sudden. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten him even more. “You can’t control what other people think. What other people make of our friendship is up to them- you can’t force anyone to believe you. It’s not your fault. Those guys are just assholes.” He gives him a gentle squeeze, a silent plea for Mishima to believe him. “And you know what? I don’t really care what they think of us. It doesn’t make me want to spend time with you any less. We can keep hanging out like normal- but I understand if you want to keep your distance for now… Your safety is what’s most important.”

Mishima sniffles and nods quietly at first, and for a moment he’s relieved, but that feeling doesn’t last long as the boy's expression twists, as if he’d just tasted something bitter.

“… Right. My safety.” He mutters sharply, jerking to shrug Akira’s hand off of him. “But this wouldn’t be happening in the first place if you’d changed their hearts, would it?”

Akira’s heart drops to his stomach, gray eyes going wide with shock- he’d known it was Mishima who’d requested their hearts be changed, of course, but he hadn’t expected him to admit to it so suddenly- not to mention the sudden mood swing has caught him completely off-guard.

“I…” His mouth opens and closes dumbly, brain struggling to catch up and form the words, to find the right thing to say. “Those were your requests?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You must have figured that much out.” Mishima hisses, the hostility only building in his voice as he takes a step back, shaking hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“Well… We’ve been busy lately, trying to deal with another… Corrupt person.” Akira can’t help but grimace at his own words, feeling sick having to refer to him as ‘corrupt’, right to his unknowing face- he didn’t want to put him on the same level as the majority of the other palace owners, but… “These things take time, you know? I’m sorry I didn’t get to it, but—”

“No! You lied to me! You weren’t even considering looking into it, were you? Do you lie to your other friends?!” Mishima snaps back, a few tears escaping his eyes and sliding down his face- not tears of sadness this time, but tears of rage. Akira doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so angry. “How is it that you’ve taken so many requests from strangers, but you can’t do this one thing for me?! Haven’t I worked hard enough? Haven’t I proven myself worthy of that?!”

“Mishima, please, it’s- it’s not like that. I care about you, you know I do, it’s just- there are bigger things we need to deal with first.” He sputters, finding it impossible to maintain his usual composure when he feels so thoroughly rattled, head reeling and heart pounding in his chest.

“Oh, right, I’m sure you have so many more important things to be doing. I know I’m not important, I’m not special, but seriously! How long could changing their hearts possibly take? You don’t have time for a fucking- side quest?! Or is it really so wrong that I want those assholes to leave me alone?” He throws his hands up in exasperation, having to choke back the sobs that try to force their way up his throat. “Good to know you’re more willing to protect random strangers than your own friends! Or, no, you’d help the others- it’s just me, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter how much I do for you, it’s just never enough, is it? I’m always just going to be- secondary. Extra. Not even a third wheel, fuck, what am I? The seventh wheel? Even though you’re everything- ugh, never mind! It doesn’t matter anyways, does it?!”

Akira hadn’t been able to get a word in edgewise until now, but Mishima had to breathe at some point, his face red from all the ranting. He still doesn’t know what to say, stunned at all the built-up resentment that was being thrown at him- but he has to try, he can’t let things end like this.

“Mishima, listen to me, I—”

“No, I’m done listening to you.” Mishima cuts him off before he has the chance, storming past him and heading straight for the stairwell door. “Just leave me alone, Kurusu.”

And then he’s gone, rushing off before Akira even has the time to process it. He could run after him, it wouldn’t be hard to catch up to him, but… He doesn’t think he wants to, not right now. There was no way they’d be able to have a productive conversation while he’s in such a state, and even besides that, he just… couldn’t handle any more of that.

He tries not to take it personally, tries to reason that Mishima has been through a lot, that he didn’t mean what he said- after all, he’d been bullied and abused for so much of his life. It’s understandable that he’d explode, if he thought it was finally over and suddenly he’s being tormented again. But that’s the worst part, isn’t it? His anger is completely understandable. If he were in the same position, he’d probably feel just as betrayed, and it makes Akira feel worse than he’s ever felt before. He doesn’t know what the right thing to do is, but it feels like he’s managing to screw things up at every turn despite doing the best he could. How was it that he could hurt him so badly when he’d been trying so hard to do just the opposite? Couldn’t he do anything right?

For the first time in a long while, he feels the sharp sting of tears behind his eyes, the constricting of his throat as his lip trembles. Did he ruin everything? Did he destroy his only chance of changing Mishima’s heart without stealing his treasure? More importantly, did he break their friendship beyond repair? His heart feels like it’s being torn in two, and he takes off his glasses to wipe his eyes, scrubbing hard as if to punish himself for crying. He can’t, not here, not now- he takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself despite his racing mind still floundering for a response, replaying the last few minutes and trying to fix what couldn’t be fixed.

Crying wouldn’t do either of them any good. He just needs to keep moving forward. He’s the leader of the Phantom Thieves, he can still fix this… Right? He will fix this. He just has to keep believing that…

---------------------------

Yuuki feels like he can hardly breathe his entire trip home, trembling and trying to catch his breath as he rides the train, music blasting through his earbuds to try and drown his frantic thoughts out. He manages to keep it together if only for the sake of not humiliating himself in public, but the second he closes his bedroom door behind him it all comes crashing down on him, collapsing to the floor with a shuddering gasp as he begins to hyperventilate.

He… He doesn’t think he’s ever blown up like that at someone in his entire life- what the fuck was wrong with him? And at Kurusu, of all people? Some part of him thinks he was right for getting so angry, because honestly, it is complete bullshit that he couldn’t make one request- but was it worth destroying their friendship over? His only friendship?

He feels like kicking himself, but it’s more effective to hit his head against the wall, slamming his skull hard against the cold surface- partially to punish himself, and partially just to try and make the thoughts stop. It feels like his mind is going a million miles a minute, scrambling in so many directions at once that he can’t keep track of it all.

He shouldn’t have yelled like that. Kurusu was a traitor that never cared about him in the first place! He was completely in the right. How could he say such awful things? He was a terrible friend. No, Kurusu was a terrible friend. But shouldn’t he be grateful anyways? Kurusu saved him. He wasn’t worthy of any of his attention, but he’d been spoiled, and now he was lashing out against his savior like a brat throwing a tantrum. He needs to be punished. He needs to be hurt. He deserves worse than that- he should just die. He should’ve killed himself a long time ago, but he’s such a goddamn coward. Always a coward. Die. Just die already.

He has to bite down on his knuckles to prevent himself from screaming, squeezing his eyes shut tight. The walls feel like they’re closing in on him, and he wonders if he’s going to just suffocate with the way it feels like he can’t get enough oxygen into his lungs. Or maybe he’ll go into cardiac arrest, with how badly his chest hurts and the way he can hear his pulse rushing in his ears. He honestly wishes it would just happen, at this point, wishes he would just keel over so that this could all be over- he doesn’t deserve to live. He’s such a mess, it’s no wonder that everybody saw him as an easy target, that nobody wanted to be friends with him- who could love someone who acted like this? First he gets too close to Kurusu and gets his hopes up, and then suddenly he’s pushing him away, torn on how to feel about him. Nothing makes any sense. He’s not making any sense. Seriously, what’s the matter with him? Is he going crazy?

He’s not sure how much time passes- it feels like forever, but eventually he’s able to catch his breath and the room stops spinning around him. That’s not to say he feels any better, though- just that the sheer panic has subsided and now he’s just left with the miserable, gut-wrenching despair as reality settles in. He ruined everything, just like he always does. He sniffles, wiping his face on his sleeve as he slowly pulls himself to his feet, head pounding from all the crying, nearly losing his balance with how his head reels and his vision blinks out for a moment once he’s standing up.

He glances over at his bed- it’s tempting to just crawl under his sheets and curl up in a ball, hide from the world and wallow in self-pity- but really, what would that accomplish? His eyes drift back over to his computer, fingers twitching at his side- that’s right, he had to do something to make up for his mistakes, didn’t he? Maybe if he just proved his devotion, if he proved that he was valuable enough to not discard him over his outburst, maybe… Maybe everything would be alright… Maybe things didn’t have to change. Even if he couldn’t be Kurusu’s friend anymore, maybe he could still be his manager. If he made them famous, that would be more than enough to make up for it all, right?

On some level he knows it’s a bad idea, that he should probably just lie down and get some rest- but that meant being alone with his thoughts while he tried to fall asleep, and he doesn’t want to listen to himself. If he worked on the Phansite, he didn’t have to think about any of it. On the Phansite, he wasn’t just some miserable idiot that couldn’t maintain a single relationship- no, he was the voice of reason. People listened to him. He had power, and that’s exactly what he wanted to feel right now when everything else seemed to slip out of his control.

Rifling through his bag, he finds the bottle of pills Dr. Takemi had given him, trembling hands struggling with the cap for a moment before getting it open and shaking another pill out into the palm of his hand. She’d advised him to start out slow, only take one a day at first, but he couldn’t care less at the moment. He just wanted to feel better- he can already feel the depression setting in and slowing him down, and he just… Can’t deal with that now. He wants to feel that rush of energy, feel the focus and motivation the pills gave him. He doesn’t care about the side effects. He just wants to get to work-

Even if he loses everything else, he’ll always have the Phansite. Despite everything, that’s the one and only thing he can be proud of. He won’t let it go so easily.

---------------------------

“Wow, he really blew up on you like that?” Ann asks, brows raising in a look of mild shock. After taking a while to cool down, Akira had asked the Phantom Thieves to meet at LeBlanc to discuss what should be done about the situation with Mishima and his bullies. Nobody seemed to expect that kind of hostility from the boy who seemed to want nothing more than his approval. “Yikes… Whatever happened must’ve had a bigger effect on him than I thought.”

“No kidding! It’s not like I ever knew him super well, but we’ve been classmates for a long time, ‘n I’ve never seen him lash out like that.” Ryuji mumbles, crossing his arms as he leans back on the couch, confused pout on his expression. “Those guys really got under his skin, huh. Still, it’s hard to believe he’d get so hostile with you of all people. I mean, that guy practically worshiped you up until now.”

“I don’t think it’s all that shocking. When you put someone on such a high pedestal, it can feel like a personal betrayal when that person doesn’t live up to your expectations, even if those expectations aren’t realistic.” Yusuke muses, although it’s easy to tell that he hadn’t expected anything like this to happen either, despite his outwardly calm demeanor.

“It’s not like his expectations were far-fetched though, that’s the thing.” Akira sighs, shaking his head, staring down at the floor as opposed to meeting the stares of any of his friends. “Our whole thing is changing the hearts of corrupt individuals and trying to make a better world through that, right? And while we mainly focus on bigger targets than just some high-school bullies, we still go after plenty of smaller, pettier targets as well. Why wouldn’t he expect us to change their hearts?”

“Well, he clearly knew that requesting it personally would be somewhat unethical, considering his position of power on the website and the direct connection he has to us, seeing as he tried to pretend it wasn’t his own request…” Makoto sighs, chewing her lip in thought.

“Honestly, what does it matter if he knows us? I mean shit, I’m not saying we should give him priority just ‘cause he’s a friend, that wouldn’t be fair to everyone else, but like… Those guys are awful! I’m sure Mishima’s not the only guy they pick on, too. Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if we changed their hearts?” Ryuji argues, earning him a range of murmurs and mixed reactions from the rest of the Thieves.

“I agree that something has to be done, but given his current state…” Haru sucks in a breath, frowning as she tries to articulate what she means without being insensitive. “The way he is now, giving in to his wants and changing their hearts may actually make things worse. Going along with it might give him the impression that he does have some kind of priority over other requests… He might get carried away and start requesting more people for less serious reasons, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m with Haru on this one. We’ve seen what his shadow self is like- the last thing he needs is a power trip, right?” Futaba huffs, with much less tact than the brunette. “At the very least, we should wait until we take care of his palace. Which, speaking of, I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say the whole ‘changing his heart without stealing his treasure’ thing isn’t going to work anymore.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry Akira, but this whole thing has only made him more volatile. I think at this point we need to play it safe and find his treasure, for his own sake.” Morgana mews, hopping up onto the coffee table. “Don’t beat yourself up about it- I mean, who knows if it was even possible in the first place…”

There’s a long silence, everyone looking expectantly at their leader, waiting for his response- to be honest, he doesn’t want to accept it. Just yesterday, he’d felt so confident that he had it all figured out, and now suddenly everything had slipped out of his grasp without any warning. If he had just listened to him and changed their hearts, if he had done something differently, he thinks he could’ve done it- could’ve spared Mishima the pain of having his heart changed by force. Some part of him still thinks he could if he just kept trying, refusing to let go of the idea- but even so, he can’t act irrationally. He’s supposed to be their leader, he can’t go losing his head, even as it feels like his heart is shattering into pieces.

“... Alright, yeah. You’re right.” He sighs after a tense moment, although he still refuses to look at any of them, feeling too lost and ashamed to look into their eyes. He doesn’t want them to see the fear in his own, after all. “We’ll steal his treasure and deal with the bullies afterwards.”

The Phantom Thieves hang out for a while longer, making more casual conversation and trying to offer some support to Akira, but none of it makes him feel any better, and by the time they’re all leaving he just feels… Numb, his emotions forced deep down in order to save face in front of the others. Even after everyone else is gone, though, Ryuji hangs behind, quiet as he sits next to Akira on his bed. Neither of them say anything for a while, but eventually, the blonde speaks up.

“... I’m gonna give those assholes a piece of my mind.” He decides, voice firm and confident. “Even if we can’t change their hearts yet, I can’t just stand by and do nothing- I’m done letting shit like this happen to people I care about. I’ll make sure they leave him alone.”

“Really?” Akira looks up in surprise, gray eyes meeting Ryuji’s. “Are you sure? I don’t want you getting in trouble- it’s my fault any of this happened, I should be the one to deal with it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Everyone already sees me as some kinda thug anyways- maybe I can use that to my advantage and scare ‘em off.” The blonde offers him a grin, mischievous and reassuring at the same time. “It’s not like I plan on getting in a fistfight or anything- plus, what’s the worst that could happen? I get a little detention? That’s nothin’,”

For the first time today, Akira finally finds some solace in his words, and for a moment he feels like he could just start crying from the sheer relief in the middle of this shitstorm he’d gotten himself into- but he doesn’t, instead just smiling back at him, blinking back the tears that well in his eyes.

“Thank you, Ryuji. It means a lot…” His tense muscles loosen, finally at ease enough to relax. “I’ll go with you to confront them. They think I’m a criminal, so maybe that’ll be enough to intimidate them, huh?”

“Hah, yeah, ‘cause you’re soooo scary!” Ryuji barks out a laugh, before becoming more genuine, putting a hand on his shoulder. “No need to thank me, we’re in this together. But seriously, I know you’re, like, having a rough time with all this, so if you’re not feelin’ up to it, I can handle it myself. And… I know I’m not the best with words, but I’m here if ya need to talk about it, man.”

“I appreciate it… I’m just worried about him, that’s all. He was so angry earlier, and I just- I hope I didn’t completely wreck our friendship.” He sighs, hanging his head once again.

“Hey, I know the whole plan’s kinda gone to hell right now, but it’ll be alright. He’ll come around eventually- I mean, seriously, have you seen the way he looks at you? That kid loves you! He’s just… Y’know, upset right now, but one argument can’t totally destroy a bond like that. You’ll make up.”

“You really think so?” Akira asks tentatively, earning him a playful slug to the shoulder.

“Of course I think so! I wouldn’t lie to my best friend, y’know.” Ryuji insists, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Anyways, there’s nothing we can do about it right now. What you need to do is just chill and take your mind off things, yeah? Stressing over it isn’t going to make things any better. Wanna play games or somethin’?”

“... Yeah, that sounds good.” He slowly nods, standing up from his bed. He wasn’t much in the mood to play video games right now, but he knew Ryuji was right- for now, all he could do is wait and try not to lose his mind in the process.

---------------------------

The two of them hung out for the rest of the night, playing video games and grabbing some dinner together until the sun had long sunk below the horizon and Ryuji needed to go home. It did make Akira feel better, at least for a little while- but now that he was alone again, that horrible anxiety was forcing its way back to the forefront of his mind.

[Kurusu]: can we talk? i’m worried about you.

He sends out the text, despite the time of night- knowing Mishima, he was probably still awake anyways, but for all his waiting, watching the screen for that text bubble to indicate that he was typing, he never got a response. The guilt feels like it’s eating him alive- how long is he going to leave things in this state? Who knows how long it would take them to find his treasure in that massive tower, and even then, how long would it take after that to repair their friendship? How much worse were things going to get in the meantime? He can’t stand it, just going to bed and doing nothing while Mishima’s mental state continues to deteriorate. He has to do something.

He’s fully aware that he’s being stupid, pretending that he has any intention of going to bed while he waits for Morgana to fall asleep, but… He can’t leave things this way. If he can fix things sooner, he has to try, quietly slipping out of bed and pulling the MetaNav app up on his phone. He’ll get an earful from Morgana the next morning, he’s sure, but what else can he do? He needs to fix things- and, selfishly, some part of him just wants to see what Mishima truly thinks of him right now. Some part of him hopes that, even if he’s upset with him, his shadow will at least give him some hope that their relationship isn’t over. Maybe he’s not so different from Mishima after all- maybe this is some desperate way to seek validation, consolation for his broken heart.

Whatever the reason, he’s made up his mind. After all, things had been fine every other time he’d approached his shadow alone- he could handle this himself. He’ll find a way to make things better, by any means necessary. His thumb hovers over the button, a moment of hesitation, before he presses it with determination-

> ENTER.

Chapter Text

As soon as Akira enters the palace, the sense of wrongness hits him like a train. It wasn’t another “update”, the size and structure of the building appeared exactly the same as it did last time, but the atmosphere had completely shifted. Every other time he’d visited the palace, there had been an air of excitement, glitz and glamor and celebrity, a crowd that never stopped cheering- but now, things were quiet. The mass of fans remained huddled around the red carpet, as always, but they spoke in hushed murmurs, sending suspicious glances towards the Phantom Thief as he passed. It felt like everyone was on edge, walking on eggshells for fear of… Something. But what?

“Did you hear about what happened to those guys…?”
“That’s what they get for messing with the Admin.”
“But why weren’t they dealt with earlier? Shouldn’t the thieves protect their manager?”
“Poor Admin… Maybe the Phantom Thieves aren’t as just as we thought.”
“Maybe he’s the only reason they do any good at all…”

Looking up at the screens covering the skyscraper gives him a better idea of what the cognitions are chattering about- the screens, once displaying a constant flow of praise for the Phantom Thieves, along with countless commercials and interviews promoting them, showed something entirely different tonight. The screens down the center that displayed the comments were still going, however where they had once been mostly positive, almost every comment was highly critical now, constantly flowing in no matter how quickly they were deleted. Interestingly enough, some of the critical comments were allowed to stay- but only those that were highly sympathetic to Mishima, asking why the thieves hadn’t done more to protect their manager when he had done so much for them. Of course, these comments couldn’t be pulled from the real site- nobody knew who the admin really was, much less that he felt like he’d been wronged by the Phantom Thieves. No, it felt more like a stream of consciousness- a window into his mind, perhaps, where he could only think negatively despite how much he tried to shut those thoughts down. It’s concerning, to say the least, but what worries Akira even more is what had replaced the bright, gaudy advertisements.

Where the screens had once flaunted Phantom Thief action figurines was now a grave sight: news segments discussing some familiar faces. According to the reporters, three high school boys- a group of bullies- had been “brought to justice” by the Phantom Thieves on direct orders from their manager. It seemed to be controversial, but not for the fact that they had been arrested and punished in some unknowable way for something that wasn’t a crime, but for the fact that it hadn’t been done sooner. The reporters were heatedly discussing what this could mean- if this had caused a rift between the admin and the Phantom Thieves, if the Phantom Thieves had meant to betray him, if they really had his best interests in mind- paranoid ramblings coming from the mouths of seemingly professional news anchors.

Akira’s stomach feels like it’s trying to turn itself inside out. It’s a slap in the face, seeing how much everything had changed because of his mistakes- did he really think that he’d be able to hide his inaction from Mishima until he changed his heart? At the time, it had seemed like the best course of action to keep him stable, but he should’ve known that it would come back to bite him in the ass. Maybe this was inevitable- maybe this would’ve happened anyways the second he told him the truth, but seeing it all fall apart like this… He can’t help but feel like it’s all his fault.

Since he’d broken everything apart, it was up to him to fix it again.

Swallowing his dread, Akira takes a deep breath and starts down the red carpet, heading straight for the palace entrance. It felt like a thousand eyes were watching him as he made his way to the doors- even the guards surveyed him with a sharp, suspicious gaze, despite holding back on attacking him for now, likely due to the fact that he’d become a recognizable presence around here. Everything seems darker when he steps into the lobby- the bright reds that had once accented the walls and decor seemed dull and washed out, and he could swear the lights flickered ever-so-slightly. Even the receptionist, who had once greeted him with a bright, plastic smile looked worse for wear, her formerly perfectly styled hair frazzled as she anxiously tapped her fingers against the desk. Her attention locks onto him with wide, almost startled eyes as he approaches her, trying and failing to give him a convincing grin.

“Ah, it’s you.” Her voice is strained, frayed at the edges with stress. “If you’re here to see the admin, I apologize- he’s… Busy, for the time being.”

“Too busy to see me?” Akira questions, raising a brow at her. He put on an act like his attention was always being pulled in a hundred directions, but he knows how lonely Mishima is at the core of his being. He always relished the opportunity to spend time with a real person- so what was he doing now that was so important? And why did this shadow seem so… Nervous? “Where is he?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.” She answers with a grimace, but her gaze gives it away easily, glancing over to the elevator for a brief moment. She seems to know that she’s given his location away, but she does nothing to try and cover it up, just letting it go with a resigned sigh as she pretends to busy herself with paperwork. “You’ll just have to go on your way, now.”

Akira nods, before turning to make his way over to the elevator. He remembered himself and the Phantom Thieves had almost gone down it before, but Morgana had convinced them to stay away from it- something about having a terrible gut feeling. While it seemed innocuous enough before, Akira understood what he meant now- even without the guards standing on either side, something about it was just… Unsettling. Staring at that down arrow made him feel nauseous, despite- or perhaps because of- the fact that he had no idea where it could possibly go. Everything else he’d explored in the palace had been in the hundred or so upper floors- just what could the basement possibly be hiding?

The logical part of his brain knocks at the back of his skull, telling him to listen to reason and turn back already. Coming here alone when Mishima was so unstable was already a bad enough idea on its own, so exploring ominous, uncharted territory should be completely out of the question. What if the shadows down there were too strong for him to handle alone? How would he explain it to the others if he got hurt doing something so stupid- or worse? How could he be sure he wasn’t risking his life for some meager chance that he could soothe Mishima’s shadow, make sure they hadn’t lost all of the progress they’d made together?

But the louder part of Akira’s brain, the emotional side, tells him to keep moving. This is all his fault- he alone should bear the brunt of it. And, after all, if Mishima’s shadow really was down there, who’s to say that he wouldn’t welcome the presence of ‘Joker’ in this situation? Maybe, just maybe, if he could be a shoulder for him to cry on, if he could reach out and hold that pain for him, he could fix everything. His shadow had never been hostile to him before, so… Isn’t it worth a shot? Isn’t it his responsibility to try?

His legs are moving on their own before he can finish thinking it through, guilt and adrenaline propelling his every movement as he takes down the guards with swift, desperate precision. Even after they’ve been defeated, he needs special access in order to use the elevator- but thankfully, the VIP card he’d been given previously works just fine, and his gut twists as the down arrow lights up and the elevator comes up to greet him. The doors open with a slow creak, sounding ancient despite how sleek and high-tech they appear to be, and once he steps inside, it feels like they close even slower, as if giving him one last chance to turn back. He doesn’t take it, swallowing the lump in his throat as the sliver of lobby still visible between the metal doors disappears entirely and the elevator starts going down.

It takes an agonizingly long time to reach his destination, the only sound the slow grind of descent punctuated by the pounding of his own heart. For the first time in his life, he wishes there was some music in here, however bland it may be- he’d have taken anything over this grating silence, completely alone with his thoughts, stewing in dread and anticipation. How far down did this go, exactly? What in the world could he possibly need to bury this deep? The elevator finally stops with a hollow clunk, the doors almost hesitant in the way they slide open to reveal where they were.

At first, it just looked like a dim, poorly lit hallway, solid gray concrete making for a cold, unforgiving floor and claustrophobic walls. As Akira’s eyes adjust to the darkness, however, he can see that there are several rooms on both sides of the hall- no, not rooms, cells. Each one is almost completely pitch black inside, blocked off by solid metal bars. This isn’t just a basement, it’s a prison. The realization makes his stomach churn, and for a moment he questions if Mishima’s shadow is really down here, but he can hear it at the end of the hall- dull thuds and the echoes of mirthless laughter in that all-too-familiar voice. He came all this way for him- he has to face him, even at his worst. Even if he’s becoming more scared by the minute.

His footsteps feel impossibly loud as he grits his teeth and starts walking, each click of his boots reverberating off the solid walls surrounding him. Morbid curiosity has him glancing in the cells as he passes them by- it’s hard to see much, but he can make out the vague shadows enough to know what he’s looking at- Madarame hunched in a corner, Kaneshiro curled up on a cot, a body bag where Okumura should be, and…

The metallic scent of blood fills his nostrils as he approaches one of the final cells, revulsion causing him to freeze as he processes what he’s seeing. The man is crumpled on the floor, the darkness and the extent of his injuries making him nearly unrecognizable. For a moment, Akira thinks he’s dead, but then the body twitches, a painful jerk that makes an awful crunching noise, like broken bones grinding together. Even without seeing his face, there’s only one person this could be: Suguru Kamoshida. Not dead, but alive for the sole purpose of suffering, only conscious to experience pain over and over again. He can’t say that it’s completely undeserved, given everything he’d done, but even so… The sight is gruesome, the disturbing aftermath of a revenge fantasy repeated over and over again.

Akira turns away with a grimace, bile burning the back of his throat- he can’t bear to look at it any longer. He wasn’t here for Kamoshida- he was here for Mishima. He needed to stay focused.

It wouldn’t take him long to find the shadow- just one more cell down, the door was open, a dim, flickering light illuminating the tiny, desolate room. The cognitive Akira stood in the doorway, blocking his entry, looking more doll-like than ever, eyes glassy and thoughtless. He could swear he even saw a few light cracks across his skin, but before he could think much about that, a voice tears his attention away from the cognition and to the shadow standing under the pitiful fluorescent spotlight of a single dying bulb hanging from a wire.

“Joker-?!” Shadow Mishima stares at him with wild, panicked eyes that seem to glow gold in the meager lighting. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Akira can’t process the words, though - no, not when his eyes drift down to what’s on the floor. There are three boys, appearing to be around their age, barely holding onto consciousness as they breathe in sharp, shuddering gasps, wheezing painfully with each exhale. They’re easy to recognize, despite not being too familiar with them personally, given he’d just seen their faces on a news broadcast on his way in- Mishima’s bullies. It’s hard to know the extent of the damage when they’re all either face down or curled into a pathetic heap, but he can see the bruises battering their skin, the alarming amount of blood spattered on the floor. There’s a considerable amount smeared on one of Shadow Mishima’s polished shoes as well, freshly spilled and glistening in the light.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening here, but despite how obvious it is, Akira almost can’t believe it. For all of his flaws, he’s never seen Mishima violent. Angry, sure, resentful, yes, but this? Even at his worst, he couldn’t have expected to see desires so bloody and visceral from him. His mind is racing, unable to settle on one singular thought- he has so many things he wants to say, so many questions he wants to ask, but he can only manage one, voice wavering with the sickening number of emotions swirling through him.

“I… What are you doing?”

The shadow’s shocked expression twists into an upset scowl, scoffing as he pushes past the cognition to face Akira directly, in the dark hallway with walls that feel like they’re going to close in and crush him at any moment.

“You’re really going to ask me that? You weren’t supposed to see this. You aren’t supposed to be here.” He hisses, fingers clenching into fists at his sides. “Why do you care what happens to them, anyways? I’m giving them a taste of their own medicine- it’s what they deserve.”

Akira can only shake his head, jaw hanging open in disbelief at what he was hearing.

“No, this- this isn’t right.” He argues, heart rattling frantically against his ribcage. “They’re jerks, sure, but this is beyond fair punishment.”

“Oh, get off your fucking high horse!” The shadow cuts him off, glaring daggers that feel like they cut right through his soul with white-hot fury. “What would you know about it? You’re not the one that has to deal with them! If you did, you’d understand- this isn’t even half the pain they’ve made me feel! They deserve this and worse.”

“You’re wrong- they aren’t even adults! Where’s the justice in beating a bunch of teenagers half to death because they were mean to you?”

“Justice? The Phantom Thieves decide what justice is- I decide who deserves to be saved and who deserves to be punished! This is justice, in its purest form!”

Akira tries to speak up, to argue back, to do anything- but the shadow isn’t having any of it. The hateful words spill from his lips with unrelenting force, walking towards Akira and forcing him to continuously back away from him, blindly retracing his steps back down the hallway.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be pushed around for your entire life, do you? To always be laughed at and never laughed with. To lose every chance at making friends because everyone knows that they’ll be a target if they’re so much as seen with you. To be trampled over for years and made to feel worthless- and for what? What did I ever do to them?! All because I’m an ‘easy target’? Because I’m weak? Because I’m--!”

Even now, spilling his guts to Akira, there’s something he still can’t bring himself to say, throat closing and choking the word back before he can speak it aloud. His fist collides with the wall in frustration as he finally stops his forward march just before the elevator doors, the force that should’ve shattered the bones in his hand instead leaving a spiderweb of cracks in the concrete. Still, despite everything, when those golden eyes lock onto him, he can see something familiar behind all the anger- that desperate pleading look, hopelessly searching Akira’s expression for approval. He finds none of it this time, though, just the horrified eyes of a former friend staring at him from behind the mask. His expression darkens, lowering his head for a moment to stare at his bloody shoes.

“You still don’t understand, do you…? You’d still rather sympathize with them, even when they’ve taken everything from me… I should’ve known. You’re nothing like me. I don’t know why I ever expected you to get it…” He murmurs, the anger temporarily draining from his voice and only leaving him with cold disappointment. “... Get out of here.”

For a second, the moment of quiet deludes Akira into thinking the situation might still be salvageable, instinctively opening his mouth to try and talk him down from this. His brain feels scrambled with a horrid storm of fear and disgust and ever-present shock, but this… This is still Mishima, isn’t it? As awful as this is, all of his actions come from the same pain. If he could just heal that wound, deep as it is, could he still change his heart?

“... Mishima, I-”

“GET OUT!”

The shadow’s voice is impossibly loud, cracking through the air like thunder as he shoves Akira into the elevator hard, his back slamming against cold steel as the elevator doors slam shut. He doesn’t even get a moment to catch his breath as the metal box shoots back up the shaft entirely of its own accord, stomach lurching at the speed of it like he’s on some awful roller coaster. It’s almost like the building itself is trying to vomit him up as the elevator comes to a screeching halt on the first floor and practically spits him out, almost tripping over his feet as he stumbles back out into the lobby- or maybe he’s just thinking that because he feels like he’s going to throw up at any second now.

Everything from there is a blur- he doesn’t remember leaving the palace, nor does he remember fumbling for his phone and warping back to his attic bedroom. He doesn’t even hear Morgana’s panicked meows as he stumbles over to his bed, not bothering to take off his clothes as he collapses onto the cheap mattress, face buried into his pillow. He can’t think straight, can’t focus on anything but trying to get control of his racing heart and reeling head, unable to stop the trembling that still shakes his fingers.

What the hell was that? Was that really Mishima he’d encountered down there? He feels so stupid- all he wanted to do was help, to fix things, but everything he tried only made things worse, like he was trying to piece together shards of broken glass and cutting himself on the jagged edges every time he picked one up. Maybe Morgana was right. Maybe changing his heart like this truly was impossible…

Sleep doesn’t come to him gently, it feels like hours before the panic and anxiety fully subsides- but once it does, his exhaustion hits him hard, mercifully forcing his brain to shut down the constant flood of miserable thoughts, knocked out cold in a dreamless slumber.

---------------------------

Yuuki huffs as he turns his phone over again, seeing the time- 3:45am- and the unanswered text from Kurusu still sitting in his messages, despite having received it hours ago. To be honest, he’s been too scared to answer it- “can we talk?” What was there to talk about, exactly? How Yuuki had blown up at him and ruined their entire friendship? How Kurusu had lied to his face for weeks? Would he apologize, or was he just going to let him down easy before cutting off their friendship for good?

Some part of him is too bitter to believe he had any good intentions- of course Kurusu wouldn’t apologize. He never cared in the first place. This was all just some… Weird, fucked up game to him, playing with Yuuki’s feelings to some unknowable end. How could he have ever tricked himself into thinking someone like Akira Kurusu, leader of the Phantom Thieves, would truly want to be close to him? He’s everything- he’s cool, courageous, strong, all with a handsome face that matches the air of mystery that surrounds him. He’s everything, and Yuuki is nothing. It was never going to work out, and he was foolish for ever thinking otherwise. For ever allowing himself to buy into the fantasy that they could be friends, much less something even more than that…

… But he had something for a little bit, didn’t he? Even if it was all a lie, at least for a while, Yuuki could pretend that he finally had what he’d always wanted: someone who truly cared for him, who accepted him, flaws and all. Those weeks he’d spent with Kurusu felt like a surreal dream, like his place in the world had suddenly changed, no longer just a loser or a side character, but someone with a tangible place in Kurusu’s life. Fresh tears sting at his eyes as the memories come flooding back- sharing crepes, Kurusu’s cooking, freshly brewed coffee, arcades and sleepovers, borrowing his shirt… That was the happiest Yuuki had been in a long, long time.

He wants it back. He needs to experience that bliss again, if only for a little while longer-
Was he really going to let this slip away from him so easily?
Could he really go back to living like this, having had a taste of the good life?

The effects of the pills are starting to wear off now, and he feels like he’s crashing, the energy and euphoria from the simulants plummeting off a cliff and leaving him back with the horrible emptiness he’d started with. Distracting himself with the Phansite worked for a while, and with the medication he could almost say he felt good while the pills worked their magic, but it was all the same at the end of the night. He was still alone, terribly alone, and as much as he assured himself that if he’d never feel this way again once he made the Phantom Thieves famous, he didn’t want to wait that long.

Either he held onto Kurusu for a little bit longer, or he’d have to find some artificial substitute for that happiness. More coding, more late nights, more “medicine”. Anything to fill the void.

Sobs threaten to break free from his chest as hot tears slide down his cheeks, grabbing his phone and stumbling over to his bed, succumbing to his own guilt and selfish desires as he pulls up his messages with Kurusu once again. His shaking fingers are clumsy, vision too blurry with tears to bother to check his spelling:

[Mishima]: im sorry
[Mishima]: im sos so sorry
[Mishima]: i shldnt have yelled at you
[Mishima]: i wont do it agsin i promise
[Mishima]: im fine. eveyrthings fine
[Mishima]: just… dont hate me. please.

God, he’s so pathetic, isn’t he? Kurusu’s the one who wronged him, and yet here he is, begging for him to come back. But that’s just his place in life, he supposes. Until he finally succeeds, he’ll always be on the bottom rung, forced to just take whatever’s dished out to him without reprimand… He should really be more used to this. All this pain and yet he somehow hadn’t toughened up at all, still as soft and weak as he was before Kurusu. Before Kamoshida. Before everything.

He’d been so furious earlier, but it’s hard to stay mad at Kurusu now, when he’s curled up and desperately praying that he’ll forgive him for his outburst and take him back. Maybe it’s alright if it hurts- if he’s just playing with his heart, if he lies to him, if it’s all pretend… He’s been through worse. He can deal with the pain if it means they can be together for a little while longer… He’s Yuuki’s savior, after all. He needs him. He’s nothing without him… No matter how Kurusu treats him now, he’ll take it all in stride. He doesn’t deserve anything more, not until he can prove that the Phantom Thieves need him just as much as he needs them…

Those thoughts keep floating around his mind as his brain slowly loses power, finally giving into his exhaustion and drifting off to sleep. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he prays that tomorrow won’t come, that everything will go dark forever and he’ll never wake up…

But the sun will rise regardless of how hard he prays for it to stay below the horizon. He’ll just have to take some medicine and try to survive another day… He needs to keep pressing forward, no matter how much it hurts. All for the sake of his dream.

Chapter Text

Akira groans as his alarm wakes him with a shrill, unpleasant shriek, mumbling incoherent complaints as he turns over to hit the snooze button. The wednesday morning sun filtering in through his window doesn’t greet him kindly either, too bright and obnoxious, making his eyes sting as they try to adjust to the light. He’d passed out cold, but he didn’t rest well at all, still feeling stiff and exhausted. Last night felt like some kind of awful dream- the basement, the prison cells, Kamoshida’s mauled, twitching form, the blood on Mishima’s shoes… He still has a hard time wrapping his mind around it, especially this early in the morning. What’s it going to be like, seeing him at school today…? Selfishly, part of him wants to stay home and just avoid it all. He feels guilty for even thinking that- he’s part of the reason everything between him and Mishima was such a mess, so it’s his responsibility to keep a close eye on things… But honestly, in this moment, he just feels burnt out. If he could just have the day off to sleep in, recharge, get a grip on his own feelings…

But that would be far too easy, wouldn’t it?

“Akira! Come on, you’re going to be late if you don’t get up soon!” Morgana’s voice cut through his short-lived peace and quiet, one of his white paws batting at his face.

“Ughhhh, alright, alright…” He mumbles, gently pushing the cat away as he reluctantly sits up in bed, running a hand through his messy black hair. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long, long day… As he puts on his glasses, his gaze focuses on the blue eyes staring up at him from the floor, at once accusatory and concerned.

“You went into the palace again last night, didn’t you?” His teammate meows, following him around as he starts getting ready for the day. “How many times do I have to warn you about how dangerous that is? Especially after what just happened! Up until now, I thought that at least Mishima’s feelings might protect you at some subconscious level, but now nothing’s for sure… You could’ve seriously gotten hurt!”

Mishima’s feelings- that stings, Akira visibly wincing at the comment. What was that supposed to mean? That after their argument, Mishima might not…? It’s not like he could even be sure about Mishima’s feelings, as much as the others liked to comment and speculate about it, but still… The thought that this had permanently damaged their relationship pained him more than he wanted to admit.

“I know.” Akira snapped, the words coming out harsher than he meant them to, before sighing and shaking his head with a remorseful grimace. “I mean- sorry, I’m just tired… But you don’t have to worry about me going back there by myself again.”

“Are you sure? You said that last time, too.” Morgana huffs, an annoyed edge to his voice, although he mainly just seems concerned. “I know I gave you the green light before, but getting this close to a palace owner… It might’ve not been a good idea to begin with. I know you want to help him, but you can’t keep throwing yourself into danger like this.”

“I hear you… I’ve learned my lesson. I’m not going to do that again.” A small chill runs up his spine as the memory, too recent and too vivid to be comfortable, forces its way back to the front of his mind.

“Learned your lesson? Did something happen while you were in there?” He questions, but Akira just shakes his head, mouth feeling dry.

“Don’t get all worked up, I’m alright. I just… I saw something I didn’t want to see.” He keeps it vague, and Morgana seems to take the hint, giving him an inquisitive look but not prying further. “We’ll work on stealing his heart as soon as possible.”

“Alright… We’ll follow your lead, Joker. We’ve got this.”

Part of him still doesn’t want to accept it. He felt like he’d been so close- for a while there, it truly did feel possible. If it weren’t for the interference of those bullies, could it have been done? Was there some world where he’d been able to change his heart another way- or one where he’d paid closer attention to his friend, saw the signs and quashed those darker inclinations before a palace could form in the first place?

There’s no point in dwelling on it. He’ll never know what the other possible outcomes might be- all he can do is focus on the present, do whatever he can to amend the situation and save Mishima from his own ambitions- even if that means taking his heart by force.

The world around him seems fuzzy and muted as he makes his way to the train station, unable to pay attention to his surroundings with everything on his mind. As much as he tries to take his mind off of it, he can’t stop thinking about Mishima. His shadow. Those desires he harbored, deep in the darkest parts of him. It seems so out of place, for the potential for such violence to be hidden in such a timid boy- but the more he thinks about it, the more it makes a sobering amount of sense.

After all, he’s been on the receiving end of violence for god knows how long. He doesn’t know everything about him or his past, but based on what he said about being ‘pushed around’ for his entire life, it’s not hard to imagine that the bullying he experienced didn’t end at verbal abuse and rumors. Hell, even with Kamoshida, it was hard to know the full extent of it- he knew that his coach beat him, coerced him into doing his dirty work and leaking Akira’s criminal record, and that was horrible enough as it is… But there’s the morbid possibility that there was more that Mishima never spoke about, that it was even worse than he’d previously imagined. Either way, he’s been subjected to torment at the hands of others for a long time, and nobody up until the formation of the Phantom Thieves had tried to help him, not even his own parents. There’s only so much a person can take before they lash out- want to make someone else hurt the way they’ve been hurting for years.

That doesn’t make it right, but it makes it understandable. And if he could understand it, he could accept it. For the moment, those thoughts hadn’t turned to actions, remaining as unseen desires festering deep in his heart. He hasn’t hurt anyone but himself yet. He’s no monster. He’s just a boy pushed to the edge by pain, and Akira would be the one to pull him back before he plummeted.

With that thought, Akira finally gathers the nerve to check his texts on the crowded train, frowning deeply at the words that populated his screen:

[Mishima]: im sorry
[Mishima]: im sos so sorry
[Mishima]: i shldnt have yelled at you
[Mishima]: i wont do it agsin i promise
[Mishima]: im fine. eveyrthings fine
[Mishima]: just… dont hate me. please.

He seemed so frantic… Did he really think he would hate him for being angry with him?

[Kurusu]: hey, it’s okay. i don’t hate you. you had every right to be angry with me.
[Kurusu]: how about we talk somewhere private during lunch today?

He wants to apologize now, but it doesn’t feel right to just say it over text. He wants Mishima to hear him say it, for the words to reach him in his own voice, so he’d know how much he means it. There are some things that just can’t be conveyed through tiny words on a screen… He expects to be left on read for some time, but surprisingly, his phone vibrates as he gets a response nearly immediately:

[Mishima]: thank you thank you thankyou
[Mishima]: lets meet on the rooftop again

… Huh. The strangeness of his texts had made sense the previous night, when the emotions were still raw and he could assume he was breaking down, but now… It’s really starting to rub him the wrong way. Thanking him so profusely just for being a decent friend wasn’t entirely out of line with his previous behavior, but it was more the way he was typing that was throwing him off. Usually, he took the time to capitalize his sentences and fix any typos- aside from last night, he always got the feeling that Mishima was the type to proofread his texts a minimum of three times before hitting send. But now there was none of that, like he was just typing and sending everything out as fast as he could- has he not calmed down since their argument? He wants to think that he’s overthinking things, but at this point, it’s hard not to read into every little detail.

[Kurusu]: sounds like a plan. talk to you then.

The train slows to a halt at his stop- he supposes he’ll find out what’s going on with him soon enough…

---------------------------

Akira’s eyes are glued to the door as usual, waiting yet again to see Mishima, heart aching with worry and dread. He must be coming to class today, given he’d agreed to meet him during lunch, but those texts have him worried that he’ll show up as an emotional wreck, still mid-breakdown and dragging himself to school just to see him. It sounds ridiculous, but he wouldn’t put it past him, with everything that’s happened lately- if he was still in such bad shape, he’d rather he stay home and take care of himself first… But at this point he knows there was little chance of that happening regardless.

The morning bell rings, and Mishima still isn’t in his seat- for a moment he considers the possibility that he’s only going to show up during lunchtime, but lo and behold, moments after the teacher starts lecturing he comes stumbling in, breathing heavily with sweat beading his forehead. He’s not surprised that he looks like a mess, his uniform rumpled as he haphazardly tosses his bag on his desk, barely acknowledging their teacher as he’s scolded for his tardiness and their classmates snicker at his sorry state- but there’s something else about his demeanor that’s just… Off.

It’s not the first time he’s noticed it- it was the same the other day, seeing how restless he was despite looking exhausted, but today it’s even worse. There’s a wild look in those chestnut eyes of his, and his previous jitters had escalated beyond just a restless leg under the desk. It may not be obvious to anyone who wasn’t paying close attention, but Akira was watching him like a hawk now, and he could see it clearly: every so often, Mishima would twitch. His hand would jolt, fingers curling as his wrist jerked involuntarily, or his neck would twist and cause his head to suddenly tilt for just a moment. The more he watched, the more concerned he became- just what the hell was going on with him? He’s never seen anything like it before. Something was very, very wrong.

Akira doesn’t absorb a damn thing throughout their class lectures, only able to pay attention to two things- Mishima, and the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes until lunch break. His mind was working overtime, grasping at straws and finding no answers- was it a health condition? His body reacting strangely after going without proper rest for so long? Nothing seemed to fit quite right. It was almost like caffeine jitters, amplified by a hundred… But it couldn't be something as simple as that, could it? This was far too strange to just be one too many cups of coffee.

When lunch finally rolls around he lets Mishima leave the room first, waiting a few minutes before trailing behind in the hopes that any nosy classmates wouldn’t catch on, although he gets the feeling that it’s obvious either way… Regardless, the rooftop offers some privacy, and yet again he finds Mishima waiting for him, fingers trailing lightly over the metal of the fence. The quiet peace of the scene doesn’t last long, though- as soon as the sound of the door closing rings through the air, the boy whips around, focusing those wild eyes on Akira.

“Kurusu! You really came to see me…” Mishima sighs in relief, giving him a sad, weak smile, as if he’s afraid to let himself be too happy. Sweat still beads his forehead beneath his short bangs, face flushed a light red- when he noticed it this morning he’d assumed it had just been from running to class, but now he’s not so sure. Was he just that nervous?

“Of course I did. I told you I would, didn’t I?” Akira assures him, trying his best to keep his cool as he crosses the rooftop to get a closer look at him. “But I can’t blame you if you didn’t trust me to be true to my word… That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Mishima. I want to apologize—”

“Oh, no, it’s okay! You don’t have to.” The boy interrupts, shaking his head a little, words tumbling out of his mouth a bit too fast to be graceful. “I’m the one who should be sorry. You’ve been such a good friend to me, and I totally blew up at you…”

It’s so strange- he would’ve thought an apology would be appreciated, with how upset he was yesterday, but now he’s completely rejecting it… Does he not think he deserves an apology anymore? Still, Akira isn’t going to let this go so easily. Even if he wouldn’t accept it, he needed to model what a good friend would do, seeing as Mishima had clearly never had one before.

“No, I do need to apologize. It was wrong of me to be so dismissive of your concerns- I should’ve at least kept you updated on the situation. I understand why you’d be upset about being left in the dark like that… I’m sorry, Mishima.” Akira tries again, tone gentle, watching for his reaction. For a moment, Mishima just stares at him, looking completely unsure of how to react- part of him wonders if anyone besides himself had sincerely apologized to him before. Was this really so alien to him?

Eventually, he blinks a few times, before nervously laughing with a wobbly smile. “Hah- um, thank you? A-apology accepted, I mean.” He sputters out, fidgeting with his fingers. The more he speaks, the more he can tell that his mouth is dry, too, able to hear the way his tongue tries to stick to the roof of his mouth. “You’re too kind, really… I’m just happy that you’re not throwing me away.”

“Of course I’m not throwing you away. You’re still my friend, you know- even friends fight sometimes. It’s how we resolve it that matters.” He reassures the boy, almost feeling relieved that Mishima seems to be taking his word for it- but even so, he can’t help feeling uneasy. He seems more unstable now than ever, so who knows how long this peace would last. And besides that, there’s…

There it is again. A slight twitch in Mishima’s finger. This is just too strange- he can’t keep ignoring it, even if he’s unsure how the other will react.

“That aside… Are you okay? You seem… Twitchy.” Akira asks carefully, taking another step closer to get a better look at his face.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine- totally fine! A lot better now that I know you don’t hate me, that’s for sure, heheh…” He looks even more antsy now, eyes darting around- he isn’t a very good liar. It’s easy to tell that something is going on, and Mishima isn’t oblivious to it. “Just, uh, you know- been nervous! The anxiety hasn’t worn off just yet, hah. Funny how that works. It’ll… I’m sure it’ll go away on its own.”

It’s just word vomit, trying too hard to convince Akira that whatever’s going on with him is a totally normal reaction to the emotional rollercoaster he’s been on for the past 24 hours, but it gives him time to get a close look at him, study him for any more signs of… Something. And he finds what he’s looking for in what should’ve been the most obvious place of all- his eyes.

Mishima’s eyes are a chestnut brown- not so dark that he couldn’t see his pupils at all, but they were difficult to discern from a distance. Now, though, Akira is close enough to see that the black holes at the center of his eyes are blown far wider than usual, absorbing most of his iris into a dark, frantic abyss.

Dilated pupils, twitching, fast speech, sweating, dry mouth, mood swings, anxiety… He would bet that his pulse is racing, too.

The realization hits Akira with the force of a sack of bricks- is Mishima high on something?

Just a few days ago, the notion would’ve seemed completely ridiculous. Mishima, on drugs? The kid has enough trouble talking to his own classmates, trying to imagine him working up the nerve to ask around for drugs just seems impossible. But then again, Mishima hasn’t been his “usual self” lately, and the warning signs are right in front of him, clear as day. He’d be a fool to dismiss it now just because it seemed “impossible” for him. Not to mention he already knows a certain someone willing to supply teenagers with experimental drugs… Still, it’s hard to wrap his mind around. Is that seriously what this is? Did he actually come to school high and just expect him not to notice?

“… Kurusu? You’re staring…” Mishima’s voice brings him back to reality, and he realizes with an awkward clearing of his throat that he’d been too shocked to speak for a minute, trying his best to act casual despite the whirlwind rattling his brain.

“Ah, sorry, I just got lost in thought. I’m worried about you, that’s all.” He awkwardly brushes over that fumble, trying to pull himself together. “You’re sure you don’t need to lie down or something?”

“You don’t need to worry! I’m fine, just fine. Really, I’m not tired at all.” He shakes his head, looking increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation. “Anyways! I won’t keep you here all break, you- you have to eat at some point, hah. Thank you again, Kurusu. I won’t keep letting you down.”

Before he can say anything else, Mishima’s hurrying past him and disappearing into the stairwell, leaving Akira to soak in his utter disbelief for a few moments. Part of him wonders if he did the right thing by not confronting him about his possible drug use right here and now, but then again, accusing someone this erratic of being high without any solid proof just seems reckless. He’d hate to have a repeat of yesterday- plus, with all the mistakes he’s made, he’d rather consult with the other thieves before he makes any more stupid decisions…

Yeah, that’s it- he’ll talk to the rest of the Thieves about it. Maybe he’s just blowing things out of proportion… He desperately hopes that’s all this is: an overreaction.

Akira’s already sending the text requesting to meet after school as he makes his way back to the classroom, nerves making his fingers a little shaky as he types:

[Akira]: can whoever’s free after school today meet at leblanc?
[Akira]: i want your opinion on something important
[Futaba]: aye aye captain
[Futaba]: nishima again? LOL
[Makoto]: I’ll be there.
[Ryuji]: for sure dude!
[Yusuke]: If it is of such importance to our leader,
[Yusuke]: Then of course, I will make time to listen.
[Futaba]: yk that could’ve been 1 text
[Futaba]: or u could’ve just said “yes” LMFAO
[Yusuke]: How can I be expected to truly express myself in so few words?
[Ann]: Could you two PLEASE stay on topic? This is serious :/
[Haru]: I’ll come by as well!

There’s a slight sense of relief, seeing the flood of supportive texts from his friends- and the usual banter, of course. It feels like there’s been a dark cloud hanging over him for a while now, heavy with guilt and dread, but thankfully not every member of the Phantom Thieves is struggling as much- he needs some outside perspective to balance him out. Even with everything else seemingly falling apart, he can be thankful that he has such a good team to back him up in times like this…

---------------------------

The rest of the day is much the same, watching Mishima’s odd behavior from the corner of his eye as the clock ticks down the hours until it’s time to go home. Despite his energy earlier, he seems to have crashed by the end of the day, looking exhausted as he drags himself out the classroom, only sparing Akira a nervous glance and a half-hearted smile before he disappears. It does nothing to ease his nerves, only making his stomach tighten with dread before a slap on the back distracts him.

“Ya ready to go, dude?” Ryuji asks with a grin, the hopeful glint in his eye giving away that his cheerful demeanor was an attempt to lift Akira’s spirits. “C’mon, we’ll miss the train if we keep standing around.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ready.” Akira nods, giving a small smile in return as he slings his bag over his shoulder, feeling Morgana shift and stretch inside as if just waking up from a nap.

“Wanna grab something to eat on the way back? You barely ate your lunch today.” Ann suggests as they make their way out of the classroom, casual with a hint of concern to her tone.

“No, that’s alright. I don’t have much of an appetite right now…” He answers honestly with a sigh- he’s too anxious right now, the thought of eating just makes him feel a little nauseous.

“Ah, I see.” Ann sends him a sympathetic glance, able to tell exactly what he means without it being spelled out. “Just make sure you eat a good dinner later, alright? Being hungry won’t do you any good, physically or mentally.”

They continue to idly chat on their way back to LeBlanc, but the tension hanging silently between the Phantom Thieves makes everything feel awkward, off-kilter, a performance of normalcy to make them seem like “normal teenagers” to passersby as opposed to vigilantes of the subconscious. Akira can feel his throat tightening as the cafe comes into view, palms becoming clammy as he grips the strap of his bag- is this really happening? A question he asks himself all too frequently, but to think he’d find himself in a situation like this…

The time it takes for the other thieves to arrive feels like an eternity, but soon everyone has gathered, looking expectantly at their leader for an explanation. His mouth dries up the second he opens it, needing a moment to gather his words, but knowing what might happen if he doesn’t say something urges him to press forward.

“… Well, I talked to Mishima today, and we made amends for that argument the other day…” He clears his throat awkwardly, looking everywhere but in the eyes of his teammates. “But something was off about him today- I mean, more than usual. I… think he might be on something.”

“On something?” Ann asks, brows raised in shock and confusion. “What do you mean by that? Like, you think he was high?”

“… Yeah, maybe. I can’t say for sure, but his behavior has just been escalating lately- restlessness, talking too fast, lashing out… Normally I would just assume he’s cracking under the stress, but there were physical signs, too.” He sighs, grimacing a little as he remembers their conversation earlier. Part of him feels guilty, like he’s betraying him by telling his friends about his ‘bad habit’, but keeping secrets just isn’t an option anymore. It’s for his own good… “I noticed him twitching all morning, and I don’t mean fidgeting, I mean involuntary twitches… He was sweating more than usual, too, his mouth sounded dry, and his pupils were blown out when I talked to him at lunch. All of that combined with his recent behavior just makes me think… What if he got his hands on something?”

“Holy shit… You’re serious?” Ryuji gapes, running a hand through his short hair as he leans back. “I mean, I don’t think yer wrong, based on all that it sounds like uppers, but… Damn! Where the hell would he even get something like that?!”

“I mean, he does seem to idealize that glamorous celebrity lifestyle, right? Drug scandals are pretty typical.” Futaba comments bluntly, her attempt to add some levity to the situation falling flat, not even managing to make herself laugh. “I’m not surprised that he’d want drugs, I’m more shocked that he actually managed to get some. He has a hard enough time talking to us, I can’t imagine him meeting up with a drug dealer without fainting.”

“Are you sure that’s the only explanation? I feel like we should explore all of our options before we accuse him of doing something illegal…” Makoto counters, although she’s clearly still processing, eyes clouded over with thought.

“I don’t know… I’m no doctor, but I can’t think of any medical explanations that are more likely than him resorting to substance abuse. Stimulants make perfect sense, with how desperate he seemed to keep himself awake and constantly be productive.” Morgana chimes in, tail flicking as he paws at the table. “He’s completely spiraling out of control- we need to steal his heart as soon as we can. I shouldn’t have let this experiment go on for so long…”

“I agree, at this point he could do major damage to his health…” Haru sighs in defeat, gaze locked on her own hands, thumb running over his own knuckles as she tries to steady her heart. “It seems that everyone is caught up on how he’d go about acquiring such things, though… If he truly is as skittish as you’re making him out to be, could he have found a way to get them legally? It could be that he’s overusing prescription medication.”

“… I think I know who can tell us what’s going on.” The words leave his mouth before he can truly think about what he’s saying, earning him a mixed bag of reactions from his friends. “Don’t look at me like that- I know I’m a delinquent, but I don’t associate with drug dealers. She’s a real doctor. She’s just… Unconventional. If Mishima got on her good side, she could’ve given him some of her medicine.”

“Uh huh… I’m just gonna trust your judgment and not ask why you’re in touch with such a sketchy doctor.” Ann quirks a brow at him, mostly teasing, although there’s a touch of suspicion in her voice. “Should we go ask her, then? Maybe if we explain the situation to her, she’ll stop giving him… Whatever it is that has him so messed up.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that will work.” Yusuke finally speaks, shaking his head with a sigh. “Sketchy as she may be, I doubt it would be that easy to get her to reveal private information like that, especially to non-family members. A doctor can make any number of excuses for a prescription, and it’s possible that she provided the medicine to him in good faith, depending on what he told her- if she can make an argument that she felt that stimulants would be the best treatment for him, without any knowledge that he was planning to abuse them, she’s in the clear. On the other hand, revealing private patient information to a bunch of teenagers who can’t even prove that they know him personally or have his best interests in mind, well… That would be much harder to excuse, don’t you think?”

“Fuuuuck, right, there’s a buncha complicated laws about that…” Ryuji groans in frustration, head hitting the wall as he leans back in his seat. “Should we just confront him, then? D’ya think he’ll give it up if we go all ‘intervention’ on him?”

“That may not be the best idea either… For one, accusing him without any concrete proof may just send him spiraling further. Not to mention we don’t know if he’s been doing this for a while and is only starting to misuse so obviously now… Forcing him to stop so suddenly could cause withdrawal symptoms.” Makoto frowns, and the rest of the room seems to deflate at their lack of options. “The best thing we can do is steal his heart and change him from within as soon as possible. He’ll more than likely stop on his own once we do- or, if it is an unrelated health condition, then we’ll have at least eliminated that possibility.”

“I agree with Makoto- that’s the safest course of action. It won’t be easy, but we need to end this as soon as we can, before he does any more damage to himself.” Morgana mews, blue eyes cold and focused. “Since we’re all already here, I say that we go in tonight and make as much progress as we can. How about it, Akira?”

The thought of going back into the palace after what he saw last night makes his stomach turn, the violence flashing through his mind all at once, but he knows that he’s right. He’s only hurt Mishima by dragging this out for so long… He gives a quiet nod, hands folded in his lap to hide the way they tremble slightly with anxiety. God, how is he going to react when he gets a calling card from the very people he considered to be his heroes…? He dreads that more than anything, but there’s no time to agonize over that. Everyone else is already standing up, getting ready to go- he can’t dwell on this any longer. He needs to do what he should’ve done a long time ago.

> ENTER.

Chapter Text

“Wow, the vibes have seriously changed since the last time we were here, huh?” Futaba mutters as the Phantom Thieves appear before the towering skyscraper, the red carpet entrance devoid of the flashing cameras and excited cheers they had grown used to.

Things hadn’t improved since Akira came here alone the other night- the atmosphere was just as tense and uncomfortable as before. The once bright and flashy advertisements had been overrun with frantic reporters speculating endlessly about their precious Admin- worrying about his health, if he was being treated fairly by the team, and how relieved everyone was that those “monsters” had been taken care of. Akira knew better, of course- knew what justice in Mishima’s reality truly meant. Images of the basement come flooding into his mind unbidden- cold, dark cells, blood-spattered concrete, the tortured shell of a man that was Kamoshida, and the teenagers well on their way to becoming the shadow’s new punching bags. It makes him sick to his stomach- yet another reminder of why they couldn’t wait any longer. As much as it hurts to admit that they’d have to steal his heart after all, letting him continue spiraling out of control simply wasn’t an option. They had to stop this, before Mishima ended up hurting himself or anyone else.

If things get to that point, it’ll have been his fault for waiting so long to do what was necessary…

“Yeahhh, this place used to be kinda fun, in a fucked up way…” Ryuji shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. It was easy to tell that the whole team was apprehensive, hesitant to actually step onto that red carpet and make their way back inside, but thankfully the blonde was never the type to stand around waiting. “C’mon, we got treasure to hunt for! Let’s get a move on.”

“How should we go about looking for it, though? Doesn’t this place have like, a million floors?” Ann followed his lead out of the whispering crowd and towards the towering building, blue eyes straining to see the top, where the seemingly endless screens gave way to a cloudy night sky.

“It’s only one hundred,” Akira added, acutely aware of how much heavy lifting the word ‘only’ was doing. He could feel a nagging shame in his mind at the fact that Ryuji was currently the one heading their party- the feeling that he’d shirked his responsibilities as leader onto someone else. Logically he knows that’s not how Ryuji views the situation, his best friend would just see it as having his back in a tough situation, but the pit of guilt doesn’t leave his stomach, tightening like a vice. What’s wrong with him? “And with so much ground to cover, I think it would be best to split up to try and be as efficient as possible… Security seems to have increased since we were last here, but it shouldn’t be anything we can’t handle.”

“We should keep it to two groups, just to be safe. I’d rather not risk any of us getting overwhelmed because our party is too small…” Makoto decides, calm and reasonable despite the daunting task ahead of them. “We can use the same groups as we did during Joker’s direct talk with Shadow Mishima, to keep things simple. So that would put myself, Ann, Joker, and Morgana in one group, and Ryuji, Yusuke, Futaba, and Haru in the other. One group can take the top fifty floors, and the other the bottom- which floors can we rule out right off the bat? We’ve been to a few already.”

“Well, the second floor should still be the Phantom Thieves museum, if I remember correctly… And the top floor is his penthouse, right? So there’s no need to go all the way up, at least.” Haru chimed in with a thoughtful pout, struggling to recall exactly what floors they’d visited before.

“Unless it’s on the roof! Everyone’ll have to get over their fear of heights real fast.” Futaba points out with a snort, although it’s clear she’s joking… Mostly.

“Let’s save that for last… just thinking about being up that high gives me the creeps.” Ann grimaces, shuddering a bit before focusing back on the topic at hand. “The third floor had the stages with the fashion shows, and the fourth floor had the nightclub, so we can rule those out, too.”

“Floor 25 is a VIP lounge, and it’s not the basement, either. That leaves 96 floors left- 48 for each group to cover.” Akira can feel the questioning stares of his teammates at the mention of the basement, but there’s no time to question him on it now that they’re approaching the front doors. “My group will start at 99 and work our way down, the rest of you start on floor 4. We’ll keep going like that until we eventually meet in the middle.”

“I think it’s highly unlikely we’ll be able to get through all of our respective floors in one night, but we can always pick up where we left off tomorrow. Hopefully fortune will be on our side and we’ll find it sooner rather than later…” Yusuke sighs, giving Akira a reassuring smile as they pause at the entrance. “Now, shall we begin?”

---------------------------

The next few hours pass by in a neon blur, too focused on finding the treasure to fully appreciate the grandiosity of each and every floor they pass through. The VIP card Akira received during one of his visits ends up being a real boon, with him needing it to access the majority of the upper floors. The amenities feel endless- a cigar lounge, luxury pools and saunas, hotel rooms for fans wishing to extend their stay, five-star restaurants- there’s even a pharmacy on one floor, feeling out-of-place among all the other attractions, although Akira can’t help but feel like it confirms his worst suspicions about Mishima’s recent behavior…

After searching 24 floors as efficiently and thoroughly as they possibly could, they finally strike gold on floor 75. Morgana perks up immediately as they start descending the stairs, stepping over bright yellow tape with CAUTION: DO NOT ENTER in bold print on their way down. It’s the first time something like that has appeared- so far, everything in the palace was finished and refined. Was this area under construction or something…?

When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Akira has to squint to see anything at all- it’s a long, dark hall with one tall doorway, pitch black and feeling more like a gaping maw than an entrance. Whatever lay beyond was clearly something Shadow Mishima didn’t want anyone accessing, blocked off not only by more yellow tape, but a swath of powerful guards- Cognitive Ryuji being chief among them, standing tall and proud in his security uniform, a heavy metal baton hanging from his belt. It was their first time running into him, but just at a glance, Akira could tell that he was one of the most powerful cognitions they’d run into thus far- certainly not someone they’d want to face with only half their party present. Akira signaled for the group to follow him, backtracking halfway up the stairs, out of the guards’ sight.

“We’re so close to the treasure, I can feel it! It has to be in that room.” Morgana urges in an excited whisper, careful to keep his voice down.

“We can’t just rush in, not with that Cognitive Ryuji keeping watch… We need to find a way to get the others here and, ideally, lure that cognition away.” Makoto hums, tapping the side of her face in thought.

“Oh, god, I don’t even wanna know how Skull’s gonna react when he sees this… Talk about an ego boost.” Ann groans, crossing her arms. “You’d be the fastest, right Mona? Think you can grab the others for us?”

“Of course!” Morgana chirps, practically beaming- he would’ve done it regardless, but there’s always an extra spring in his step when Ann’s the one asking. “I can create a distraction on our way back up, too, so just keep an eye on things here in the meantime- hopefully that cognition will leave, otherwise we can take him on as a full team once we’re all here.”

“I trust you’ll handle it, Mona.” Akira nods, handing the feline his VIP card. “Here, in case you need it to get back up here. Be careful.”

“You got it!” Morgana happily takes the card before scampering off towards the elevator on the previous floor, leaving the rest of the thieves with nothing to do but stew in anticipation and anxiety.

The first sign that Morgana’s plan was successful was the sound of a walkie-talkie, a familiar voice cutting its way through the crackling static.

“Ryuji! Get to the museum NOW!” The low quality of the transmission did nothing to hide how upset Shadow Mishima sounded, the rage in his voice wavering with the threat of bursting into tears. “Someone stole one of my most precious memories… They really want to take everything away from me, don’t they? They just can’t stand to see someone like me winning for once! People like that need to just-!” He cuts himself off with a frustrated growl, a distant thud barely audible through the speaker. “Find the culprits and lock them up as soon as you can. Show them no mercy. I’m counting on you.”

“Relaaaaax, boss, I’ll handle it. I never let ya down, do I?” The cognitive Ryuji purred nonchalantly in response, sounding like he’d done this a million times, heavy footsteps fading until there was silence once more.

When Akira pokes his head back around the corner to look downstairs, the guards are gone, leaving the mysterious entrance unprotected. Still, despite the relief that Morgana’s plan had seemingly worked, he can’t help but get hung up on what he’d heard over the cognitions radio. His most precious memories? He supposes it makes sense, everything in the palace represented some part of Mishima’s mind, but to hear the shadow acknowledge what those museum pieces truly represented so blatantly made him uneasy. Even if it was necessary, part of him can’t help feeling guilty- no wonder he sounded so upset, if he believes that his enemies won’t even let him keep his happy memories… Especially when most of those memories involved him…

There’s not much time to dwell on his regrets, though, footsteps and familiar voices breaking the tension.

“Woah, would ya look at that! Kinda spooky, huh? And look what we managed to nab!” Ryuji grins, playfully smacking Akira on the back as he catches up to him, holding up the flyer from the night of Operation Maidwatch. “You haven’t looked inside yet, have ya?”

“No, we were just waiting for the rest of you.” Akira nods, smiling a little for the first time since they’d entered the palace. He’s nervous to find out what’s waiting for them beyond the darkened hallway, but at least he doesn’t have to do it alone, right? He’s made that mistake more than enough times at this point- he can’t take for granted the fact that he has his best friends right here by his side, a luxury Mishima clearly didn’t have.

“I’m just relieved we managed to find it on our first run! With the way things are going, who knows what kind of damage Mishima might do to himself if we delay things any further…” Haru sighs, wiping the sweat from her brow- the other group had clearly run here, likely to avoid being caught by the guards. “The security level is definitely going to be higher now, but it should be fine, considering this place is going to go into lockdown mode once we send the calling card anyways. We’ll just have to be careful on our way out.”

Akira’s stomach drops at the mention of the calling card- that’s something they’ll need to figure out once they’re out of here, but just the thought of how Mishima might react upon receiving it, especially with how erratic he’s been lately, makes him feel sick with dread. How should he go about it? Was there any way he could tell him what was happening without him spiraling…?

“Agreed, it seems Lady Luck has smiled upon us tonight.” Yusuke nods, before glancing back at their leader, snapping him out of his troubled thoughts. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m ready. Let’s do this.” He affirms, swallowing the heavy lump in his throat as he moves towards the empty blackness awaiting them through the doorway, doing his best to hide the deep-seated anxiety gnawing away at him, although the concerned glint in Yusuke’s eye tells him that there’s no use in trying to lie to his friends anymore. Akira takes the lead as they enter the darkness, the pitch black seeming impenetrable for a few nerve-wracking steps, before there’s a harsh click and the Phantom Thieves are suddenly blinded by white, fluorescent light, holding up a gloved hand to block it out while he waits for eyes to adjust.

The sight he’s met with once he can see is a familiar one- the polished wooden floor with precise green lines, plain walls lined with small, high windows, and a volleyball net stretching across the middle of the scene- there’s no doubt that this is the Shujin gymnasium, set up for volleyball practice, but that’s not what catches his attention. No, it’s the fact that it reminds him so much of Kamoshida’s palace that really throws him off. It’s like a strange mix between a school gym and a dungeon, the walls and floors darker than they were in the real world, the shadowy figures of the volleyball team quite literally chained to the court, and the audience packed with jeering students, seemingly frozen in time. At first he fears they might be more cognitions, but they don’t appear to be physical manifestations- no, the way they flicker in and out of existence reminds him more of a hologram, making the room feel like some strange art exhibit. The court itself has its peculiarities, too, with several circular indents in the floor, as if pieces had been carved out and removed for no clear purpose. A single volleyball lies off to the side of the court, its white surface smeared with something dark, and behind it…

“Woah, what are those?”

Futaba is the first to point them out- there’s a row of white marble statues, life-sized depictions of real people upon circular bases with a small, golden plaque on each. Akira doesn’t say anything as he steps closer to investigate, that feeling of guilty nausea overwhelming him again as he examines them:

The first is of Kamoshida, a cruel snarl on his face as he brandishes a whip, somehow appearing just as threatening as he had been in the real world despite being made up of cold, unmoving stone. Rather than looking like a king as he did in his own palace, here he looks more like a demon, curved horns sprouting from his head and sharpened teeth poking through his sadistic grin. The plaque on his statue is the shortest, simply reading “The Monster”.

The second, much to his surprise, depicted Makoto, wearing her school uniform and a blindfold over her eyes, hands folded neatly in front of her. What little could be seen of her expression was cold and unfeeling, lips drawn in a thin, firm line. The plaque beneath had been inscribed with “The Willfully Blind / See No Evil”. He glances back to his teammate for a moment, wondering if seeing herself depicted in such a way would affect her, but she says nothing- just stares straight at the statue with an unreadable expression. Trying to stay strong, as she always does.

The third statue was of Mishima himself, terror etched into his expression in nauseating detail, his pose depicting him cowering in fear, shackled hands pressed firmly over his ears. Just looking at it brought back memories of Kamoshida’s booming voice- it must’ve sounded even louder echoing across this gym after school, or that cramped office of his… The marble is dark and cracked in places, reminiscent of the bruises that littered his body during Kamoshida’s reign of terror, no surface left unscathed, from his knuckles to the swollen black eye off-setting his features. His plaque was similarly insulting, reading “The Coward / Hear No Evil”.

The final statue depicts Shiho, knocked onto her knees, holding a bandaged arm up in defense with her other hand covering her mouth. Much like Mishima’s statue, there are shackles around her wrists and she was bruised all over, but the most disturbing part is her painfully lifelike expression- simultaneously pained and resigned, as if she expected it at this point, the abuse just another part of her routine. The face of someone who knew that nobody was going to save her. Her plaque was the most sympathetic, reading “The Victim / Speak No Evil”.

Just what kind of place was this? An art exhibit only Mishima could visit, a reminder of his past mistakes, something to make sure he could never forget what happened? Maybe it’s foolish to try and make heads or tails of something born of the unconscious mind, but still, it’s so different from everything else in this palace…

“Oh, god…” Ann murmurs, her hand lifting to cover the way her mouth hangs open in shock, blue eyes fixed on Shiho’s statue. “I hoped I’d never have to see her in this state again…”

“I know,” Akira puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. He can’t imagine how painful it must be to be reminded of what happened to her best friend, especially when Ann had tried her best to protect her, to no avail. “She’ll never have to deal with him again, Panther. She’s safe now. But I get what you mean, this is all very…”

“Disturbing.” Haru finishes his sentence for him, frowning as she looks over the statues herself. She hadn’t been as deeply involved with the whole affair as some of the other thieves were, but the display paints an uncomfortably clear picture of the corruption that was allowed to run rampant at their school. “I’ve never seen anything like this before…”

“Actually, I’ve seen this about a dozen other times.” Futaba pipes up, walking away from the statues to examine the indents in the volleyball court floor. “In video games, I mean. What we’re looking at here is a classic RPG horror game puzzle- I wonder if he’s played any before? He must have, right?” She wonders aloud, before shaking her head and getting back on topic. “Anyways, the way these usually work is that we’ll use the statues to create some kind of scene- each of the statues probably fits into one of these indents. If we set them up right, it should unlock something- the next room, the treasure, some kind of secret that’ll help us progress… You get the gist.”

“So you’re saying we need to recreate his trauma in order to proceed?” Yusuke asks, earning him a thumbs-up from the ginger. “How morbid… But art can be a healthy way to process even the darkest of memories, so maybe that’s what this is?”

“Whatever makes you feel better about it, man. It feels really out of place for a palace like this, but it doesn’t seem like he intended on any of the ‘fans’ seeing this, anyways…” She shrugs, before gesturing for the rest of the group to get moving. “There are three spaces on this side of the volleyball net, and one on the other side- I think it’s pretty obvious how these should be arranged, right? C’mon, start pushing them over here- and be careful not to break them!”

It takes at least two people just to push one of the heavy statues around, but with some effort they’re able to recreate the scene- Kamoshida towering over both Shiho and Mishima on one side of the net, with Makoto standing blindly on the other. Still, despite all the statues being in their rightful places, nothing changes- no sound of a door unlocking, nothing appearing, just a deafening silence in the mostly-empty gym.

“Ugh, what are we doing wrong?” Ryuji groans in frustration, running his hands over his face. “There’s no way the statues go anywhere else- and more than that, they’re heavy as hell! I don’t have the energy to keep pushing these around!”

“Perhaps there’s some small detail we’re not accounting for… Does the direction the statues are facing matter? Or could it be the order in which we moved them…?” Yusuke ponders, circling around the statues to look at them from every angle, as if that would somehow give him the answer.

“Puzzles like this can be kinda finicky about the direction sometimes, yeah, although I doubt the order matters too much. Maybe we need to switch Shiho and Mishima around?” Futaba seems to be stumped too, messing around with the angle of Kamoshida’s statue.

While everyone was trying to figure out what to do next, Makoto crossed the gym, ducking under the volleyball net to come face-to-face with her own statue, which was currently facing the horrific sight on the other side of the court. Wordlessly, she turned her statue so that its back was to the net- resulting in the gym lights turning off with a resounding click, all dark except for a spotlight shining on a single door on the far side of the room.

“Woah, hey, you figured it out! Good job!” Ann grinned as she ran over to the brunette, although her smile quickly faded as her gaze fell on the marble visage of her teammate. “… You had to turn your back on them, huh? Talk about harsh…”

“I can’t blame him for having such a negative image of me, really…” Makoto murmurs, voice heavy with regret. “I’m sure the whole team thought I was heartless for not doing more to stop him. I stood by and did nothing, all because I selfishly gave into Kobayakawa’s threats… It’s my own fault- I have to take responsibility for that.”

“Well, at least you’re helping him now, right?” The blonde adds, doing her best to cheer her up. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Nobody had the courage to stand up to him, not until we became Phantom Thieves.”

It doesn’t work very well, even with her mask on, it’s obvious from her guilty expression that she still feels awful about the whole situation, but she offers Ann a weak smile in return.

“… Right. I’m doing what I can now. Let’s keep going until we find that treasure.”

Akira thinks back to his time in the VIP lounge, the cognitions of Ann and Makoto he’d seen there. Cognitive Makoto’s cold, dismissive attitude made a lot more sense now- even in this world where everyone fawned over Mishima, he couldn’t imagine her caring about him, could he? He can almost hear his voice in his head- if she didn’t care enough to do something back then, how can she pretend like she cares now? Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wonders if Mishima is going to say the same of him once he gets the calling card, but he tries to repress that thought as much as he can. He can’t worry about that now. There’s still work that needs to be done. He swings the door to the next room open, bracing himself for whatever might be on the other side.

Unlike the first room, the next bears no resemblance to any familiar scenery- no, instead, it takes the form of a cavernous cathedral. Rows of pews stretch forward from the doorway, hewn from a dark mahogany, with towering panes of stained glass painting the room in beams of multicolored light. Despite the aesthetics, however, there’s no real Christian symbolism to be found- instead, as to be expected, it’s all about the Phantom Thieves. The stained glass windows depict abstracted portraits of the Thieves on their various escapades- taking down the corrupt, saving the innocent, the black and red calling cards appearing like some kind of holy text.

At the front of the room, rather than a crucifix, the entire wall is taken up by a massive screen, adding to the myriad of colors illuminating the chapel. It’s much like the screens on the outside of the palace, showing the comments flooding in from the Phansite, but these don’t appear to reflect any of the criticisms that appear on the real-world site- instead, every single comment is praising the Phantom Thieves, rambling on and on about how they’ve been “saved”. They feel more like prayers than they do comments- were these from the actual site, or were these Mishima’s own thoughts projected onto anonymous forum users?

Finally, much like the last room, the white marble statues were present here as well, off to either side of the screen. As Akira approaches, walking down the center aisle, he can see that there are once again four circular indents in the floor, perfect slots for the statues ahead of him. This time, the statues were much less horrifying to look at, but it somehow wasn’t any less unsettling.

The two statues on the left side of the screen were of Ryuji and Ann, their poses identical mirrors of each other: one hand raised, two fingers held up, while the other hand pointed two fingers down at the floor. They were dressed in Mishima’s closest approximation of their Phantom Thief outfits, eyes covered by masks, but each had a slight smile on their lips- it was a small detail, but it made a world of difference when compared to Makoto’s statue. The plaques on their bases read “The Right Hand” and “The Left Hand” respectively.

On the other side of the screen, Akira once again comes face to face with himself- his face etched in flawless marble reminding him more of his cognition than his actual appearance. Unlike the others, while he’s also in a Phantom Thief outfit, he doesn’t have his mask on- instead, it’s held delicately in one hand, while the other is outstretched, as if reaching out to help someone up. There’s a warmth to his eyes that feels like it shouldn’t be possible for something carved out of stone, and he’s once again left wondering if he should be flattered that Mishima has such a fond view of him or if he should be creeped out by the uncanniness of it all. His plaque is lovingly inscribed with “My Savior, Forgiving”.

Finally, the last statue depicts Mishima on his knees, hands folded in prayer. His eyes are fixed upwards in a look of unexpected joy and euphoric relief- he would expect tears to be welling up if this weren’t a marble statue. While this statue is in significantly better condition than the last, there are still a few bruises and cracks here and there- even if the physical wounds heal, it seems the pain is still something he carries with him, etched into his very being. The plaque at the base of his statue reads “The Worshipper, Saved”.

“Well, at least the artwork in the museum was a bit more subtle with its religious symbolism…” Yusuke murmurs, although he’s seemingly the only one who can appreciate the artistry conjured up by the depths of Mishima’s subconscious, inspecting the details of the statues closely with a discerning eye. “These are quite nice, though. The attention to detail is truly astonishing.”

“It’s kinda creepy, but honestly, I’m just glad I’m gettin’ a little more credit here! I mean, I did take down Kamoshida too, didn’t I? But he doesn’t fawn over me half as much as he does with Joker!” Ryuji grins, walking over to his own statue and leaning against it. “Lookin’ pretty good here, right?”

“At least he acknowledges you as a Phantom Thief! He thinks I’m just some stupid cat!” Morgana whines, ears flattened against his head.

“Do you really want him to be that obsessed with you, anyways?” Ann rolls her eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Now I’m really glad you weren’t with us earlier…”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

“One lousy statue and you’re already letting it go to your head…” Futaba teases, earning her a sharp glare from the blonde.

“Come on, let’s try and stay focused.” Makoto tries to reign them all in, still a little shaken up from the last puzzle and wanting to complete this as soon as possible. “It’s fairly obvious how the statues are meant to be positioned. Panther and Skull’s are even labeled as left and right, so we don’t have to worry about mixing up their positions…”

“Fiiine, fine. Just tryna lighten the mood a little…” Ryuji grumbles, but her words are enough to get everyone back on track, pushing the statues into their respective places to finish the scene: Akira offering his hand to the praying Mishima, with Ann and Ryuji at either side.

They don’t have to struggle as much with this one- as soon as the final statue is slotted into place, there’s another click, and a spotlight shines on another door on the right side of the cathedral, just as it did in the last room.

“This better be the last one…” Futaba mutters, but Morgana is already rushing towards the door, tail whipping back and forth in excitement.

“It is! The treasure is in this room, it has to be!” He grins, jumping up to push the handle down and swing the door open.

This time, the room is completely dark and featureless, empty except for one singular statue: Mishima, eyes wide with rapturous fascination, cupping a glittering ball of light in his hands. His treasure. The plaque below reads “Enlightenment: My Voice Returned at Last”. It makes the thought of stealing it from him sting even more- it was just a statue, but still, he could tell just how much this meant to him…

“Finally!” Ryuji exclaims, his shoulders slumping as the exhaustion of pushing all those statues around begins to set in. “Man, I’m not sure how many more of those creepy exhibits I could take…”

“Let’s just hope they don’t reset once we leave!” Futaba quips, though she’s clearly just as relieved to be done with the whole ordeal for the night. “All that’s left now is sending the calling card, right?”

“Yeah… We can figure that out once we’re out of here.” Akira nods, a heavy lump forming in his throat once again. Somehow, even after everything he’s been through, the thought of sending that calling card scares him more than anything. He’s not going to react well- what if he tries to hurt himself? Is this something he’s ever going to be able to forgive him for? He wishes now more than ever that his experimental plan had worked and things could’ve gone differently, but maybe he knew all along that he couldn’t change his heart that way- maybe he was just a coward who wanted to avoid hurting his friend like this, even if it was for his own good. “Let’s hurry up and leave.”

He can only pray Mishima will understand…