Chapter Text
No strange dreams, no back pain and a damn good mood to start the day off. It was around six-fifteen by the time he'd woken up.
He opens up the curtains, greeted by the morning daylight.
He finds the warmth comfortable, getting up and stretching as he does. If he showers and leaves now, he could avoid the morning rush.
He cracks open a window, surprised to hear birds singing in the area. He'd assumed Tokyo was already bereft of this privilege, considering the sheer amount of noise pollution that went on in the city.
Especially during some politicians’ campaigns.
Sakura-san will be here soon; he'd come in at around six-thirty yesterday; Akira assumed he'd follow that routine.
He heads in for a quick cold shower to wake himself up. He had to meet the student council today, at least according to what Kawakami-sensei had said.
Stepping out, he gets ready for the day, makes sure his firearm’s hot and heads down.
Sure enough, by the time he'd finished his shower, Sakura-san had started working on opening up shop.
“You hungry?” He asks, already expecting a negative.
“I'll skip today as well, get something in the cafeteria.” He replies, shaking his head.
It'd serve as a test to see if the cafeteria was worth spending money on. He hoped it was, since Shujin prided itself on sports; their food options should have something for everyone.
“Right then. Stay safe, the trains might be delayed since there was another incident in the subway, a mental shutdown.” Sakura replies, sighing.
“Will do.”
Strange. This was extremely strange. The frequency of accidents that happened due to “mental shutdowns” had shot up exponentially in the past three years.
Akira looks up something else on his phone. Since he'd avoided the rush on the train, he was sitting down in a relatively empty car.
‘Every journalist that has tried poking into this ends up dead… As expected, this isn't random. Someone is behind this.’ Akira thinks to himself, a nervous sweat dripping down his neck.
He'd seen his fair share of shitty people now, especially after his court case, but to think authorities would just look away from something as severe as this was a sobering thought.
Shaking his head, he gets up. This wasn't any of his business. He was already in a situation where even living normally would now be a struggle. Not like there was any way he could help with any of this, but even if there was, he risked digging himself into a deeper hole.
He steps out of the station, noticing the slightest bit of rain falling as he walks. He quickens his pace, hoping that the rain doesn't speed up.
Since the Gods above clearly despise Akira, the rain speeds up.
He stops in front of a clothing store. If he tried running through the rain, he'd be drenched; the back of his trousers would have spots of mud too.
He had ample time. Worst-case scenario, he could sprint to a nearby convenience store and buy an umbrella.
Akira pulls out his phone, checking to see if there were any notifications.
There weren't.
‘You’re fucking me. There's no way it's back.’ He grits his teeth in annoyance.
That same app was back again. He decides to make a pretty bad decision in his annoyance, and he opens it up to see what it was about.
Hearing footsteps, he turns around, spotting another student taking shelter next to him, wearing a Shujin Uniform, customised to have a hoodie.
‘That does look pretty neat.’ He thinks to himself, looking away from them and to the sky.
“Rain at this time of year is absurd.” The other student speaks.
Her voice was soft, smooth. Akira turned his head to her. She took her hoodie off.
As soon as he sees her face, a sharp pain stings the back of his head. He clutches his head for a moment. Since this was about the third time this had happened, he was starting to get used to it.
“Takamaki… Ann?” He says out loud before he can register.
He releases his head, and she turns around. After taking a moment to think and register why a teenage boy might know her, her eyes light up.
“Oh, are you a fan?” She says, stepping closer to him, her voice came out thrilled. “Do you want anything signed?”
He puts his phone in his pocket, looking into her eyes.
She smiled brightly, looked too hopeful for Akira to say he had no clue what she was talking about.
‘Right! She was a rookie model.’
“Uhh, I don't keep anything on me. Perhaps later?”
“Of course! I appreciate my fans a lot.” He says, patting his shoulder.
A car pulls up in front of them, the driver's seat window rolls down. A middle-aged man with messy hair. Probably had a receding hairline if Akira had to guess.
“Takamaki. Need a lift?”
Akira does not miss the shift in her mood, nor the hesitation. The stiffening of her posture as she nods tells everything Akira needs to know about the man.
‘Untrustworthy. Unreliable.’ He thinks to himself.
“You need one too?” He asks Akira, clearly as an afterthought.
“I'm good.”
The man rolls up his window, and Akira wonders if he should've just held the woman back when he looks at her face as they drive away.
‘Would things have been different if I had an umbrella?’ He thinks to himself, memorising the plate number of the man’s car.
Father's habits never seemed to leave him.
The rain seems to lessen; he steps out of the shade.
Loud and fast footsteps catch his attention.
“Damn pervert of a teacher.” A boy says, kicking a rock.
He had blond hair, clearly dyed since Akira could spot his roots. They were about the same height, but Akira was just a bit taller.
“Perverted teacher?” Akira asks, turning to the boy.
The instant he does—pain.
‘This is starting to get old.’ He thinks to himself, shaking his head.
The boy turns to him, “Yeah. Kamoshida.”
“Who?”
“You go to Shujin and you don't know-” Ryuji tilts his head.
“You're the transfer student, right?”
“Uh huh.”
The boy places a hand on his shoulder, hunching as he does, “Let me tell you man… Kamoshida Suguru is a grade-A piece of crud. That absolute sack of muffin thinks he's the King of some castle. Seriously, he's always on some weird power trip about something.”
“You sound really biased about this.” Akira says.
“He broke my friggin’ leg dude! Of course I'm biased. If you don't believe me, well, you're going to get a dose of him yourself, I guess.” The boy says, sighing sadly.
Akira raises a brow, but doesn't say anything.
“No umbrella?” Ryuji asks.
Akira shakes his head.
“There's a shortcut to the school that is pretty much all in the shade. You can come with me if ya want.” He says, turning around.
A voice emits from his phone, inaudible, since it was stuffed in his pocket.
“Beginning navigation: Kamoshida Suguru’s Castle.”
T̴̛͔͔̀̽̎̆̃͊̎̈R̷͍̹͉͉̖̱̙̝͚͍̄͊̀̇́̎͠I̶̛͙̟̝̝͕͉̟̝͍͉̬͗̿̏̈́͐̂̾͊̚ͅͅC̵̨̙͓͕̤̼̐̀͂̇K̷̥̀̌̀̋̀̑͘̚͝S̸̢͙̫̰̦̙̱̫̋͐́̈̄̏͆̑͂͆͑̓͊͘̕ͅT̷̨̛̟̬̮̲̰̯͚͈̀̿̉̾͐̀͝Ȩ̶̨̹̝͍̳̗͙̹̬͍͊͠R̶̢̭̥͈̥̘͙̥͙̖̫̙̭̀͆̆̂̉̀̈̋̓̕͜͜͜
Akira feels his head go light, but with all the pain he's already in, it doesn't really do much. The voice, however, was new. Was it over for him? Was there a cure for schizophrenia?
Ryuji pauses in his step, clutching his head.
He shakes it off, continuing on.
Akira followed him, slowly, since he didn't want any dirty water or mud flicking up on the back of his trousers.
The place lacked light—save for the little bit of sun peeking through the top, reflecting off the wet floor.
The rain stops by the time they're out of the alley, but the sun, too, was gone. Hidden under thick, dark clouds that made it hard to tell what the current time was.
Coincidentally, they were also in front of a castle that looked straight out of a medieval movie. It looked very poorly designed, though.
The castle seemed too tall for anything made in that era, but it seemed to be of European origin of sorts.
“Where the hell did you bring us, bro?” Akira asks, sighing.
“Am I hallucinating? Is that a castle?” Ryuji says to himself, pinching his cheek.
“Nah, I see it too.”
“Are we both hallucinating?!” He shrieks in despair.
“I don't think that's a thing.”
“That's a castle. In front of us.”
“Pretty sure, yeah.” Akira nods.
“We're not in Disneyland.”
“That is correct.”
“What the eff, dude?”
Akira was the country bumpkin here, why was the city boy asking him questions about his own home turf?
“I don't know man, you tell me.”
The boy pulls out his phone. Akira noticed the screen was cracked and there was a green line running vertically across it.
He grimaced at its condition.
“No service? Now?” The boy says.
Ryuji shakes his head.
“I'm not hallucinating, this is exactly where our effin school is!”
Now that did give them information. It did not, however, help with the situation.
Akira could see an entrance to the same place their school was supposed to be. Akira has an idea.
“Should we go through?” Akira asks.
“I mean, I guess?” Ryuji says, shrugging.
They enter through the dark corridor, greeted by a grand-looking hall.
“This wasn't what it looked like a day ago.” Akira says, looking at the chandeliers.
“This has to be it.” Ryuji says, his tone getting nervous.
It seems their commotion was noticed. They were surrounded by guards with armour and swords.
Even if Akira drew his gun, he could take two out in front of him and immediately get sliced from the back. Old school armour (if it was real) couldn't handle modern-day firearms.
Bad, horrible– dogshit idea, even. They should've just left.
Ryuji and Akira were now both stuck in a cell. After “resisting arrest”, they'd been knocked out and put in here.
He felt the back of his head, hoping it didn't bruise or worse, swell up. That same voice rings in his head.
I̷̝̬̥̎̽͒ ̴̫͉̦̒̓A̸̛̰̐͑M̶̢͈̻͆̃ ̴͉̙̏̆̇T̶̩͋̈́H̸͙̥͆̅̓O̶͉̒͒U̸̢̼͑͜.̵̡̣̯̒.̵͇̘͠.̴̘͋
“You okay, man?” Ryuji asks, placing a hand on his shoulder.
T̷̤̮̂͛̉H̴̡̨͙̐̃̊͜Ö̶̜̻͇͇́̏̀̊̚U̵̦͆̀͝ ̵͕͖͉̝͇̍̒̈́̈́Ȧ̵̰͚̮̲͇͑R̵̝̯̹̃T̷̨̧͉̟͉̒ ̸̗͈̮͓̒̑̈́̂͜I̶̝͙̫̭̪̎͠
“Peachy.” Akira replied, grunting.
He pats his chest, thankful those morons hadn't searched and taken off his weapon and belongings.
“This is an amazing first day at school.” Akira said dryly, sighing.
“I’m sorry for bein’ a crappy tour guide man…” The boy said, too disappointed for Akira’s liking.
“This isn't your fault.” Akira says, patting his back.
The place gives him flashbacks to his brief time in lock-up; granted, this was like ten times worse. Moss and what seemed like mould littered their cell.
Their cell, which only had a cobblestone seating arrangement and a bucket.
He did not want to think about what the bucket was for.
Was this an appropriate time to brandish his weapon? Was this a life-threatening situation?
He felt that it was too soon. Too unimportant. Right now, they’re in prison; the only harm that has come to them was being knocked out and put in here.
“The lock seems rusty.” Akira says, observing the doorway.
“D’ya think we can break it?”
This room was starting to feel suffocating. Small.
“Any chance you have a wrench or something? A knife? Hammer?” Akira asks, observing their cell.
“What kinda person carries any of that around?” Ryuji says, squinting.
Akira thinks for a moment, dissociating from the room, “A handyman?”
“I ain't a handyman man.”
“I figured.”
Akira prods the lock with his bare hands, to no avail.
“You seriously don't have a knife?” Akira asks, tilting his head.
“I ain't got no effin’ knife man! Why do you keep asking?” Ryuji shouts, frustrated as well.
“I figured a delinquent would carry one.” Akira shrugs.
“Dude, that's a felony.”
“No, carrying blades under six centimetres is a minor violation.” Akira corrects, his mother was a lawyer, so he was aware of a few things.
“Unless you brandish it around, it's unlikely to be caught.”
It was pretty common to find delinquents in Fuefuki who were armed with knives. Also, one of the reasons his father had taught him self-defence from a young age.
“For real? That's pretty neat, but I'm not sure my ma would like that.”
Akira does a double-take, "What kinda delinquent cares about what their mom has to say?”
“Me.”
“Fair enough.”
Metal boots crunching in the distance captured their attention.
Akira's right hand goes to his gun, weighing out his options.
“Dude! Hide!” Ryuji says.
“No point. This is a closed cell.” Akira says, gritting his teeth as the sounds get closer.
“What do we do?”
Akira thinks.
The sounds get louder.
“I don't know.”
Guarded by a group of four knights, arrives the same man he'd seen just a few moments ago in the car. He was wearing a coat (blanket?) decorated with red and pink hearts.
He raised one hand, and Akira noticed that outside of his coat… he was only wearing briefs. Akira grimaces at the sight.
“Restrain the black-haired one!”
Two burly, armoured knights pin both his arms and hold him against the wall.
Two of the other guards swarm Ryuji.
“Kamoshida!” Ryuji snarled, punching one of the knights and knocking him over.
Akira could see blood dripping from his knuckles a second later. Another guard punches him in the stomach, doubling him over.
Akira doesn't resist their grip yet. He needed to wait for them to slip up.
“I shouldn't be wasting my precious time on scum like you, Sakamoto. But what can I say? I want you dead while your friend watches.” The man says.
Akira tenses.
The guards don't seem to have eyes behind their helmets, and they seem too big to be human.
“But before I kill you, I'll have recompense for your sins.”
Akira is forced to watch as an adult man repeatedly beats down Ryuji.
He grinds his teeth down to powder.
“Are you going to stand by and watch, Trickster?” That same voice rings in his head, much clearer than before.
Ryuji’s on the floor now, doubled over.
“A filthy peasant like you isn't even worth beating.” Kamoshida says, spitting at Ryuji.
“I'll have you killed right away.”
A weak groan escapes Ryuji as he's picked up, Akira hears a whisper—a plea for his life.
“Are you out of your mind?!” Akira exclaims, escaping the guards’ grasp and kicking one away.
Kamoshida turns to him, kicking him in the stomach.
Akira blocks, but is still sent reeling against the wall.
The bastard has the guards restrain him again.
“Don't you know who I am?” He asks, stepping closer to Akira, “That look in your eyes… How irritating.” He says, punching Akira in the stomach.
The man turns away from him, looking back at Ryuji, “Hold him there. After killing Sakamoto, it's his turn to die.”
Akira hears the faint voice of a woman. His own heartbeat and bleeding rage drown her out—the only thing he can make out is ‘possibility’.
“What’s the matter?” That voice was trying to incite something now, “Are you forsaking him to save yourself? Was your previous decision a mistake then?”
That night… That blasted night that started all this. Destroyed his reputation, practically took away all his friends, and forced him to leave home.
Even still.
“No.” He says back to the voice, “It wasn't.”
Ryuji is held up on the wall by his collar by a knight, sword aimed at his throat.
“Very well,” The voice cackles, “I have heeded your resolve.”
That insistent throbbing pain multiplied threefold. He thrashed, screaming in the knights’ grip.
“Vow to me.” The voice said, its sound clear through his screams, “I am thou, thou art I…”
“Thou who art willing to perform all sacrilegious acts for thine own justice! Call upon my name and release thy rage!”
“Show the strength of thy will to ascertain all on thine own, though thou be chained to hell itself!”
Ryuji is an inch from having his throat stabbed open. Kamoshida commands, “Execute him!”
Just as his knight goes to follow, “That is enough.” Akira’s voice interrupts them.
Kamoshida turns to him, “Eager to die, are we?”
The man gestures to his guard, and in turn, Akira gets smacked by a shield. His glasses clatter onto the floor, he staggers, forehead starting to bleed as he gathers his footing.
Two other guards pin him back to the wall, their spears holding him by the neck, ready to pierce.
The other guard, who just smacked him, raises his sword.
Akira goes limp, closing his eyes for just a moment.
As soon as they move to strike him down, his eyes snap open—a shockwave breaks out, staggering them in their step.
He feels a mask on his face, the uncomfortable weight bearing onto the frontal region of his face. He feels an intense urge to rip it off.
So he does. The agony hits him instantly, the burn feels like he's ripping his own damn face off.
He groans, faltering.
Gritting his teeth, he rips the band-aid off.
Ecstasy—pure fucking ecstasy hits him as soon as he rips that annoying mask off of his face. The rush of power is instant, blue flames licking his skin as his uniform changes into something much more.
The mask stays—albeit far more comfortable than last time, a long black ankle-length tailcoat, a high-neck dark grey waistcoat with gold buttons, cinched black pants, brown winklepickers boots with tall heels, and bright crimson gloves.
The voice in his head materialises behind him, magical chains binding them together.
A knowing smirk lights up his face. God, the power was addicting. With just a flick of his hands, a shockwave sends the guards flying.
Ryuji watches on, eyes wide; whether in horror or awe, Akira can’t tell.
“Arséne,” Akira raises a hand over his bloody face, “Ravage them!”
Arséne thoroughly enjoys ripping the soldiers to bits.
Somewhere in the scuffle, Kamoshida had fallen on his ass, cowering in fear.
Akira feels the connection between him and Arséne weaken, “It seems this newly found bond of ours needs time to solidify.” The being says, fading in and out of sight.
Akira knows their advantage will slip, “Ryuji, the key! Grab it!” He says, dashing for the exit to their cell.
He was the furthest from it; he trusted Ryuji would grab the key and wait for him to come out too.
“Lock it! Fucking now!” Akira says, panting.
His first time using Arséne’s strength had sapped him of his stamina; he needed a second.
Ryuji fumbles with the key, Kamoshida gets up, and Akira's heartbeat quickens. Ryuji finally locks the gate, ending this fiasco for now.
“Open this door, Sakamoto! I swear I'm going to hang you by your own intestines!” The man shouts out in rage.
Ryuji sticks out his tongue, and Akira pulls him aside.
“We have to get out of here.” He says, breathing hard, “I'm going to be doing things to get us out. I need you to keep quiet about them.”
“What are you talking about?” Ryuji asks, “That weird monster-looking thing?”
“Worse.”
“I have no idea—”
“You bastards can't do this to me!”
They both sigh, man's got lungs, at least.
“Fine. Let's just try to find a way out, yeah?” Ryuji says.
Akira nods. He scans his surroundings. The place was pretty large; they seemed to be in a sewer-like area—the land was divided into two parts by a fast-flowing river. He spots a broken bridge that they could jump across. They do so, and a gateway leads out into a wider area.
The only way forward seems to be jumping across a metal cage half-submerged in water. The whole place was littered with prison cells and metal cages strung from the ceiling with chains.
“No other way through. Let me go first.” Akira says, grimacing.
He jumps off, the first cage holds. He tests his weight before jumping to the second, and then over to the other side.
They crawl through a hole in the wall, it leads to an even wider, more open area. Fuck, just how big was this place?
One path was blocked out by knights; Akira contemplated blowing their heads off to cross. But the gun was for defence.
They cross a large bridge to get to the other side.
“A drawbridge? Dude, the hell is this place?” Ryuji says.
Right, that's what those were called. Akira had forgotten the term.
Akira catches the knights they'd spotted moving from the corner of his eye.
“Dude—” Ryuji tries.
Akira places his hand over his mouth and forces them both to hide behind some boxes.
“Inside voice.” Akira reminds, whispering.
Akira's draw hand remains over the Glock; he calms his breathing, ready to fire just in case they get spotted.
“I'm not playing along with this shit anymore. We have to find a way out.”
“That's the plan.”
They find a stairwell leading upstairs. They climb. Ryuji pants, Akira doesn't. He's mostly recovered from summoning Arséne at this point.
“Is this the exit?”
“One way to find out.” Akira says, pushing the door open with his left hand, he opens the gigantic wooden door painfully slowly.
He curses in his mind as he's greeted by a mostly similar sight.
“The geography of this place makes no sense.” He says, “A river on two different levels can't be supported normally. At least not by the architecture of this place.” Akira says, mildly frustrated.
He had just summoned what seemed like a stand, but still. Laws of physics were laws for a reason.
They explore the new floor. Another drawbridge, this one they can't access. Kamoshida’s ugly mug is also on it for some reason.
“Dead end after dead end. How the hell—”
“Inside voice.” Akira reminds again, calmly.
They can't afford to yell, draw over patrol or a stray knight. Akira hadn't shot yet; they needed to be quiet when possible.
A prison cell, with a person slumped over in the back.
“Hey, you guys!” A voice cries out. “Over here!”
Akira and Ryuji walk over to the source.
“What the hell is that thing?!” Ryuji exclaims.
It seems to be a cat-thing standing up on both limbs, dressed in a cosplay of sorts.
“You guys aren't soldiers right? Can you let me out of here?” He asks, his voice pleading. “Look! The key’s right there!”
Both of their voices were too loud for Akira’s liking. And why in god's name was the key so conveniently placed? Whoever locked up the cat just left it on the floor.
The cat could've just reached it, if he had longer… Were the knights just bothering the cat then? Placing the key just slightly out of reach?
“We’re trying to get the hell outta here! You look like our enem—”
Akira’s voice came out commanding, “Shut it, both of you.” He could hear heavy footfalls over in the distance.
Ryuji checks his phone for service. He curses when he finds none.
A few seconds later, they all hear it.
“You guys wanna get out of here, right? I know where the exit is. Just let me out and I'll take you there.”
“What do we do?” Ryuji asks.
The footsteps get louder.
“If you don't hurry, they'll catch you.” The cat-thing’s voice comes out a bit too smug for Akira’s liking, but he unlocks it anyway.
“Ah~ Freedom tastes so great.” It says, stretching.
“Now where's the exit, you goddamn monster-cat!” Ryuji says, pissed.
Akira could relate. He'd prefer if Ryuji were quieter about it, though.
“My name is Morgana!”
“I don't care! Take us to the exit or we'll put you back in there!” Ryuji says, firing back instantly.
The cat—Morgana, deflates, “Sheesh, fine. Just keep up.”
Morgana walks up to the statue.
“What are you doing?” Ryuji asks, Akira had the same question.
“Lowering the bridge.” Morgana replies, “Frizzy hair, it seems you're quicker than blondie over there, look around the mouth, will you?”
Ah, so Morgana couldn't actually lower the bridge.
Akira had assumed the statue was just for vanity, considering what the first impression he had of Kamoshida.
The jaw seems to have some give, he pushes down on it—and voila! It lowers the bridge.
They run across. “How were we supposed to know that?”
“Amateur.” Morgana spits, instead of answering.
Akira sees the knight; he places his hand on Ryuji’s chest, halting him. He moves to draw… before he does, though, his outfit changes in a bright blue fire. His link with Arséne’s back.
Akira immediately rips off his mask.
“Blondie can't fight, huh? Stay—”
“Focus.” Akira says, pointing to the enemy.
Morgana barely dodges the swing of a sword.
“Come, Zorro!” Morgana calls out, summoning his own… stand like being.
“Persona, joker. We're called personas.” Arséne provides.
Morgana’s person looked almost like him, except it was a towering, well-built figure—one Akira could imagine in a Mexican wrestling tournament. It held a rapier.
“You've got one of those too?” Ryuji asks,
“Hmph! We will—”
“Arséne.” Akira calls out. “Ravage them!”
The knight is torn apart before it could even react.
Morgana's mood goes down at this.
“I had a whole introduction sequence prepared!” He says, sighing.
“You’re persona’s pretty powerful, Frizzy Hair.” Morgana says.
“Persona? Is that what they're called? That gigantic thing that came out all dramatic?” Ryuji asks.
“Yeah. You have to rip off your mask, just like how this guy did it. Everyone's got a mask deep down—”
Akira’s clothes change back in a bright blue flame.
He clicks his tongue
“Huh, that shouldn't happen. Looks like you don't have control over your full power, normally—”
“Can we please move? None of this is making any sense!”
“Can't you just—”
Morgana's voice gets too loud for Akira's liking. “Ryuji's right, let's move.”
The drawbridge led to another area. A fair few doors, cells. Mainly a set of stairs leading to another area.
More cells. A kid seemed to be sprawled on the floor of one of the cells. Ryuji paused. A bridge leading to another area, it was yet to be lowered.
“Where the hell have I seen that? Damn it, can't remember cause I'm too—”
“We have to go, no time.” Morgana reminds.
“Can't you hold on one second?!”
“We don't have time and we aren't in the position to care about anyone's lives but our own!” Morgana replies.
The bridge lowered, it wasn't them lowering it so…
“Should've listened to me.” Morgana says, gearing up for a fight.
Akira’s link is restored once more, his stylish clothing and mask returned in yet another flash of light.
“Let's fight.” He says, adjusting his gloves.
“Glad you stick to your guns.” Morgana says, summoning Zorro.
The knight seems to morph into something else, Akira can't tell what, but they seem to be fairies of some kind.
“The hell?” he whispers to himself. “Arséne!” He rips off his mask, using a spell to take them out.
It works wonders; Morgana doesn't need to step in for this fight.
“Let's go.” The cat says.
“Hold on.” Ryuji pleads again, “Can't we do something for them?”
“They aren't…” Morgana sighs, “Look, I'm going. There's no time to explain, you can stay behind or follow.”
The cat walks away, moving forward.
Ryuji relents, and they both run to catch up.
“Exit’s just up ahead.” Morgana says as they run up some stairs.
They make it to a room with seemingly no exits. No windows, nothing.
Akira spots a duct they could fit in.
“If you can get that mesh out, you're home free.”
Ryuji climbs one of the shelves and gets up on it, finding some leverage, he gets it off. Finding it too heavy, he drops it on the floor. Loudly.
“You think they'll notice?” He says as he jumps down.
“Hopefully not.”
“We're finally getting out of here!” Ryuji exclaims.
“Hold off on celebrating til you actually make it out?”
“What about you?” Ryuji asks, folding his hands.
“I still have something left to do in there. This is where we part ways.” Morgana says, shaking his head.
“Thank you.” Akira says.
“You've got manners.” Morgana compliments. “Careful on your way out.”
They climb the duct and promptly exit the hellish space.
“Finally, fresh air.” Ryuji says, both of them being out on the street.
“You have returned to the real world. Welcome back.” Akira’s phone says out loud.
A few people stare at them. Akira spots a few officers chatting to each other.
“Does that mean we're free?”
“No clue.”
“The hell was all that anyway! Kamoshida, the castle, that damn cat?” Ryuji exclaims.
“Inside voice.” Akira reminds again.
The officers approach them, their tone irritated, “What're you doing yelling out in the street? Skipping classes?” One of them asked.
‘Would’ve been fine if Ryuji just—’
“No! No! We were trying to get to school when we were suddenly in a —”
Fuck, was Ryuji just going to spill the beans?
Akira places a hand over Ryuji’s mouth.
“We’re new students, from Fuefuki. We transferred over for our second year.” Akira says, taking his glasses off and smiling innocently, “We got lost in the metro, took the wrong line and ended up way too far from the city.”
“Could you please just let us off?” He pleads.
The officers take a look at each other. “Sure, kid. Here.” One of them hands him a folded-up Metro map. “Keep that, the metro lines can be confusing for newcomers.”
“And don't yell, at least not out in the street.” The other says to Ryuji.”
Akira bows, he forces Ryuji to bow with him. “Thank you so much, officers. Sorry for taking up your time.”
Akira drags Ryuji with him. They either didn't see how bruised the—
Where did their injuries go? He could think about it later.
“Do you just not think before you do things?” Akira asks as they try to find their way back to the school.
“What do you mean?”
“You think they'd believe our story?”
“It's the truth.”
“Not what I asked.”
“Probably not?” Ryuji says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Then why tell them? Just spin up a tale, and make it convincing to get out of trouble.”
“Isn't it bad to lie to cops?”
“They're truant officers. And no, it's not. Always lie to cops, especially if you're guilty. The only ones you don't lie to are your doctor and your lawyer.” Akira provides.
“And please, for the love of God, think before you speak, and control your volume.”
“ ‘Kay.” Ryuji says, kicking a pebble.
Damn, this was an awful start to his first day. He had a meeting with the student council as well!
God, he was done with this.