Chapter Text
Ann does not want to go to school today.
Her parents won't mind if she doesn't. They probably won't even notice. She's not exactly sure where in the world they are, so why should they have the right to know where she is?
These thoughts whirl around Ann's mind in an unhappy tornado, a familiar pattern of doubt and depression. She doesn't want to go to school. She doesn't want to see Kamoshida.
...She doesn't want to leave Shiho alone.
Ann's not exactly sure what happens at volleyball practice, but she does know that Kamoshida is bad news. It's an open secret among most of the girls at Shujin that Kamoshida is a creep. He leers at them in gym class, snaps pictures when he thinks nobody is looking, and uses any excuse he can find to touch, with plausible deniability.
Ann remembers that he had once walked up to a girl in Ann's class to tell her that her bra strap is showing. Ann remembers the color the other girl's face had turned when he put his thumb on the pink strap of her bra where it peeks out from under her uniform. Her face had been the color of--of absolute humiliation, a blotchy dark red around a sick, pale bloodlessness.
"Thanks," the girl had whispered. She'd raised her hand to fix it, but Kamoshida's hand was on her shoulder, covering the bra strap just barely visible through her summer uniform, and he didn't move his finger away. He'd been standing directly behind the girl, Ann remembers. Hovering at her back so the girl couldn't even see him without turning all the way around. Ann had watched him tuck his finger under the girl's still visible bra strap, almost hypnotized by the wrongness of that movement. Not sure what to do or say, not sure why this teacher was touching her fifteen year old classmate's bra.
This had been last year, within a month of starting at Shujin. For most of them, people like Kamoshida still only existed as vague warnings, or strangers on a train. Even for Ann, who had already been modelling by then, she still thought of the kinds of people that would do that as somehow... other. A certain kind of guy, usually older but not always, that hangs around on set without a clear purpose, just... leering.
Teachers aren't supposed to do that.
So Ann had just stood there with everyone else, in silence, watching but not protesting. She hadn't said anything, and neither had any of her classmates. They'd let it happen, the girls too confused and uncomfortable to say a word, the boys not even noticing. It had set up the precedent for how they would all go on to deal with him for the rest of the year. That they're supposed to be silent and ashamed of what he's doing to them, and that no one else is going to speak up and say anything.
For Ann, who had very quickly earned the unwanted label as Kamoshida's favorite, it had been a very long year.
And now they're second years, and the only bright spot Ann can see on the horizon is that she might not be one of his favorites this year. There might be first years he likes more than her-- everyone knows he practically ignores the third years, after all. He has a whole new incoming class of younger girls to gawp at, and Ann might be a little safer now that she's a second year.
Of course, wishing him on an unsuspecting class of younger students isn't really a silver lining at all. Ann squeezes her eyes tight shut, and feels horrible.
It's raining this morning, perfectly matching Ann's mood. She opens her umbrella as she steps out of the station and starts walking toward Shujin. The rain has gotten worse since she left her apartment this morning, and a chilly wind keeps blowing gusts of water sideways under her umbrella. Ann, shivering, squints ahead of her to see if there's somewhere dry to stop and wait out the worst of the weather. To her relief, there's a covered patch of sidewalk just ahead of her, half protected by a store awning, and better than nothing.
There's already another Shujin student standing there, but Ann avoids eye contact because she just doesn't want to make conversation right now. She takes a spot out of the way and just stares at the sidewalk in front of her, not really seeing it, or anything else, until a car stops right in front of her.
"Hey!" Kamoshida calls.
Ann's heart sinks. Can't she even have the rest of the walk to school before she has to deal with him? She looks up, blinking, and forces herself to smile. She can't quite force herself to say anything, but Kamoshida clearly doesn't care.
"Do you need a ride?" Kamoshida asks.
Ann does not. Shujin is only about a five minute walk from here, even in the heavy rain. And Ann knows from unfortunate experience what the drive is going to be like. Kamoshida's comments getting worse and worse. Him taking every corner too fast and too hard, so he has an excuse to reach over and put his arm over her chest or her lap, laughing at his own driving and telling her to be careful, as his hand gropes its way onto her body.
She wants to say no. But he'll argue if she does, demanding an explanation and refusing to accept any excuse Ann can think up. The argument will stretch on and on and on, Ann increasingly uncomfortable, Kamoshida trying to cajole her into the car because can't she see there are cars behind him? Doesn't she realize she's making him hold up traffic?
There's no way this ends with her walking to school, so the only question is whether she has to argue about it first. Ann steps forward, resigned and mostly just hoping this will be quick.
And Kamoshida, maybe seeing he's won with Ann, shifts his attention to the other Shujin student standing under the awning next to her. "And who's your friend?" he asks.
Ann looks over for the first time, and her heart sinks when she sees that this a first year girl. Eyes wide, hair plastered to her face from the rain, no umbrella in sight, And Ann, in the end, can't be the one to lead a younger girl straight to Kamoshida.
"You just reminded me," she says, with a high, nervous laugh. "I actually told her we could share an umbrella since she forgot hers." She braces herself for something that feels like it's going to be very rude, and puts her hands on the younger girl's shoulders, giving her a little nudge. "So sorry!" she calls over her shoulder, and slips herself and the first year into the gap between two buildings.
Away from Kamoshida. For now.
"I'm so sorry," she says, dropping her arms as soon as they're out of sight of the street. "That was--Kamoshida, he..." she struggles to find words for the thing nobody ever wants to talk about.
The girl doesn't answer at first. She's just standing where she'd been when Ann drops her shoulders. She looks panicked, and when she does finally speak, she just says, "I knew I didn't want to go to school," in a very small, quiet voice.
"Oh no," Ann says, immediately guilty. "It's not that bad at Shujin, I promise. Kamoshida's just the worst."
"That was the volleyball coach, right?" the first year asks. "I saw his picture on the school website."
Ann nods.
"He's a creep?" the girl asks.
Ann hesitates. She's not sure how to answer. He is, honestly, a creep. But if she admits that now, how is she supposed to go on and explain why they all just go along with it? "I think I know how to get to the school from here," she says, avoiding the question completely. "Do you want to share my umbrella, since I did drag you back here?"
"No," the first year mumbles, and she keeps several feet between herself and Ann as they walk through the alleys toward Shujin. Ann is acutely aware of the fact that they're two teenage girls in a back alley, and as soon as she can, she steers them back to the main roads, and feels a little better.
They reach Shujin without any more drama, and Ann gestures at the school with minimal enthusiasm. She's trying for this new student, but it's hard after the morning she's had already. "Here we are," she says. "Welcome to Shujin."
The first year makes a flat noise.
Ann tries to reassure her. "Kamoshida will probably be in the gym by now," she says. "So you don't have to worry about running into him."
"Until my class has gym," the first year says.
"Well," Ann admits. "That's true."
"I should have stayed home," the first year says again.
Me too, Ann thinks. But she feels really bad about making this girl's first day of high school harder than it has to be, so she tries to cheer her up. "It won't be that bad," she says. "And hey, if you have a hard time today, you can come find me. If you want?" If she hasn't already made too terrible of a first impression. "We can walk to the station together after school."
The first year looks genuinely surprised at Ann's offer. Then she relaxes. Just a little. "Maybe," she says.
"I'll look for you after class," Ann says.
The first year nods. She squares her shoulders, and says, "Well, I guess it's time to storm the castle."
Ann laughs, and the first cracks a smile too, and then a muffled voice from inside the first year's bag announces, "Candidate found. Beginning navigation."
And then, as far as Ann can tell, the world flips upside down. There's a short, sharp sensation like falling (but not exactly like falling, falling is too simple to compare this to), and the whole world ripples. It changes too as it ripples, darkening and distorting. But the worst change is to the school itself.
"I was joking," the girl whispers, staring up at it. "I didn't actually want to storm a castle."
"So you see it too?" Ann asks.
"The school turned into a castle," the first year says. "Or we just got issekai-ed."
"I... don't think that's something that happens in real life," Ann says.
"So what do you think it is?" the first year asks. Oddly, at least to Ann who is completely freaking out, the younger girl seems more confident now that they're... wherever they are. Ann on the other hand very desperately wishes they were back in the reassuringly crowded street outside the actual Shujin--this place is empty except for the two of them, and it's raising goose bumps up and down Ann's arms.
"We should get out of here," she says.
"How?" asks the first year. Which, Ann has to admit, is a good point. They hadn't actually gone anywhere to get here, so how can they leave?
"Okay," Ann says. "So if we can't leave, what can we do?"
They look at each other. Then they look at where the school is supposed to be. Then the first year, with much less confidence than she'd shown a minute before, suggests, "... we could storm the castle for real, maybe?"
-//-
Futaba really should have stayed home. When Sojiro insisted that she just try school, that she just give it a shot for one day, she should have sealed herself into her tomb of a bedroom, and refused to come out ever again.
But...
He's been so worried lately. Which like yeah, fair, family services have been up his butt about that thing with probation guy, and Futaba... well, she doesn't know for sure that he's actually wrong to be worried that it's going to be a mark against him. Maybe they really are watching him more closely now. Maybe they really will take her away if she can't look more normal.
So she goes to school. The train is sheer torture. Futaba panics and has to get off a station early to get away from the feeling of being packed in like a sardine inside that cramped metal tube. The crowds aren't any better on the sidewalk, though, and everyone's huddled under umbrellas that make them take up more space than they usually would. It's hard for Futaba to get enough space to pass between them, never mind enough space to be comfortable, and that's why she'd ended up hiding under a covering, trembling and trying to work up the courage to keep going.
Then things had gotten way worse. A teacher had showed up to be creepy at Futaba and a nearby upperclassman, and that upperclassman had physically dragged her into a back alley.
And now the school is a castle, and the rest of the world feels empty, and there's nothing they can do except go into the creepy magic castle, and that's horrible.
At least the crowds are gone. Futaba has no clue what's going on, but now that it's just her and this one other girl, she's kind of almost functional.
Which of course is when a third person melts out of the shadows around the castle's base. It's like he's just appeared from nowhere, the dark of his long, black coat unfurling from the castle in a fluid, quick movement that startles Futaba into freezing in place. He seems to move too fast, somehow, and too easily. Like a spider when you think you're safe because it's all the way on the other side of the room, and then suddenly it's scuttled right over to you, way faster than it should be able to on its tiny legs.
That's how this guy moves. Too fast, too sure. In what seems like not enough time at all, he's standing in front of them. The older girl, whose name Futaba still hasn't asked about, she is so bad at this, startles backward. But Futaba is has always been on the frozen end of the freeze-fight-flight-fawn spectrum, so she just... stands there.
The guy stands lightly balanced on heeled shoes, looking like he's ready to dart away at a second's notice. He's wearing the dark coat Futaba had noticed already, red gloves, and a white mask. He's taller than either Futaba or the other girl, but it's hard to guess their age. Close to theirs, probably? The mask only covers about half his face, around the eyes, but it does a surprisingly good job of hiding him. Futaba doesn't know what to think of him.
"You two shouldn't be here," he says, and Futaba is on edge enough that it sounds like a threat, until she takes deep breaths to clam down, and is able to see this as a warning.
"Why not?" the older girl asks, and the boy answers immediately.
"It's dangerous," he says, and there's an odd, almost bitter note in his voice when he adds, "There are Shadows here."
"What's a Shadow?" she asks.
"You don't know what a Shadow is?" he asks. And then, when both of them look at him with blank expressions--he's obviously not talking about an ordinary patch of darkness, those aren't dangerous, and anyway Futaba can hear the capital S--his expression changes. "You don't know what a Shadow is," he says again. But this time, it's not a question. He says it almost wonderingly, and his whole demeanor relaxes. Where before he'd looked ready to dash away at any second, now he suddenly seems to settle.
"I can explain," he offers. "I don't know why you're here, but as long as you are, you'll need to know how to stay safe. And honestly, I don't get to talk to that many people. So it'll be nice to have the chance to talk."
Futaba doesn't get to talk to many people either, but she's super okay with that. This guy doesn't sound like he is. And since they don't know how they'd gotten here, it'd be nice to know which parts of this place are dangerous. She glances over at the other girl, who shrugs and nods, then says. "That would be great."
"Awesome," the guy says. He glances over his shoulder at the castle, half squinting at it like he's doing some unknown mental math. Then he nods and looks back at them. "cue should be safe way over here," he says. "I don't think the Shadows will bother us if we sit here and talk."
So that's what they do. They sit on the ground, arranged in a little circle like kids hanging out on the playground.
This is--)
(Is this how making friends works? Is that what's going on here?)
They sit on the ground, and Futaba's maybe-new-Shujin-friend asks, "Can we do introductions first? I don't know who either of you are."
"You two don't know each other?" the guy asks.
"We just met this morning," the other girl says. "On the way to school. And now we're here."
"Sounds kind of awkward," the guy says, with a flash of a smile.
"It's been a weird morning." The girl smiles. She's a lot better at smiling than Futaba is. "I'm Ann Takamaki."
Futaba half raises her hand. "Futaba Saku--what?" She flinches as the guy makes a noise, and holds up a hand like he wants to stop Futaba and the newly named Takasaki from saying anything.
"It's just that this might not be the safest place to be talking about your--our--" The guy corrects himself quickly, words almost tripping over each other in his rush. "It's not a safe place to use real names."
"Why not?" Takamaki asks.
"Because,' the guy says. "We're inside someone's heart. Not a nice someone's heart, either, if the way this place looks like is anything to go by."
Futaba almost kicks him in the face as she jerks and scrabbles into a kneeling position. She's too nervous around these people to actually stand up and look down at them, but if it wasn't for her crippling lack of social skills, she'd be jumping to her feet, pacing around, shaking this guy by the shoulders until he tells her everything he knows.
"Are you okay?" Takamaki asks.
"We're inside someone's heart," she says.
"Yeah," the guy says. "I can expl--"
"You don't understand," Futaba says. "My mom researched that! She was studying--well, her research theorized that there's a world inside peoples' subconscious, but I mean yeah, if you want to get metaphorical about it, you could call it a world inside a person's heart."
"So you know about this place already?" Takamaki asks, looking lost.
"Nope!" Futaba says, resisting the urge to cackle. "Just theory!" She points at the guy, and says, "I need you to tell me everything!"
And to his credit, he does. Or if not everything, then at least most of it, anyway. He explains Palaces, Shadows, Persona, and this place that they're in. He talks about cognition, which is so exactly like what Futaba has read in her mom's notes that she just stares at the guy the whole time, wishing she had her laptop to record every word he says.
She says she wants to see a Shadow for herself.
"No," the guy says. "I won't--take you to see a Shadow. It's dangerous to go near any of those Shadows without a way to fight.
Futaba opens her mouth, then closes it again. Yeah, there's no way she can argue that she'd be able to fight anything. But does that mean she's not even going to try and see more of this Palace. It's exactly what her om had described in her research!
It's real, and Futaba has proof of it right here in front of her. "I have to see it," she says, and doesn't care when the other two exchange worried looks, like maybe she's gone a little bit crazy. She's seen that so many times already, so what's one more? Especially when it's something this important?
"Why do you want to go see it so badly?" Takamaki asks, turning to Futaba.
"It's..." Futaba takes a deep breath. "My mom was studying this. And I got most of her old notes after--" For a second, guilt rises up, threatening to choke her. "After she died, I got most of her research. And it's real. It's here. I have to see it for myself."
"Your mom researched this?" Takamaki asks.
Futaba nods furiously. "I need to see it," she says, and looks over at the guy. He's hard to read behind his mask, and Futaba's anxious brain really likes to imagine people are judging her even when things are way less weird than they are now. But she's not getting any bad vibes from him, somehow. He just looks like he's thinking hard, and then eventually he nods. "Yeah," he says. "Okay. But you have to stay with me, and we're not going too far in. You can't fight."
"You said that before," Takamaki says, as first the guy and then Futaba stand up. Takamaki is on her feet right behind them, which surprises Futaba because it's not her mom's research, and she doesn't look like the kind of person that would want to get within five miles of a castle full of apparently dangerous Shadows packed into someone's heart.
Maybe she's underestimating her.
"Does that mean you can fight?" Takamaki continues.
The guy gestures, a quick, casual flick of one arm that brushes his coat back and shows them the wicked looking knife at his hip. "I can hold my own," he says, his smile just as audible in his voice as it is on his face.
"Then let's go!" Futaba says, and this time at least the guy doesn't try to argue anymore. He looks entirely down for leading two people he's just met into the dangerous situation he'd just tried to warn them away from, and Futaba, despite having known him for all of about ten minutes. She follows him down toward the castle, barely noticing when he draws his knife, balancing it easily in his right hand, his whole posture shifting as he walks so that he's ready to fight, ready to defend her and Takamaki, ready to meet whatever's inside the castle and come out on top.
No.
She barely sees that, because in almost no time at all they're inside, and there are Shadows.
That must be what they are, Futaba decides as she looks at them.
The castle, on the inside, is exactly what Futaba expects it to be. It's like the platonic idea of a castle. Like the subconscious concept. No--not like the subconscious concept of a castle, but literally exactly that. This is what someone, whoever's Palace this is, thinks a castle is supposed to be. Not something they've thought about and planned, but an idea that's grown up organically in their own mind. It will have been taken from TV, from overacted dramas and over the top anime. From history classes in school, and foreign movies, and maybe visits to Destinyland. All the same things that had shaped her idea of a castle, and Takamaki's, and their still nameless guide's.
Actually, now that she's thinking about it, she really needs something to call him. Otherwise she's never going to be able to focus on the platonic subconscious ideal of castles.
"So I know you don't want to say your name while we're in here," she says. "But is there something I can call you?"
"You could have asked before we went inside the dangerous castle full of Shadows," the guy points out. He doesn't sound upset, though--actually, Futaba's pretty sure she can hear a laugh in his voice.
"I was thinking about other things," she says. "So is there?"
"Joker works," he says.
It's not a name, actually, but maybe Futaba shouldn't have expected that. If he'd been worried about their names, of course he'd be even more worried about his own. At least Joker gives her something to call him in her head.
"Okay," Takamaki says. She still sounds a little nervous, butis trying not to show it--and oh boy does that tone sound familiar to Futaba. "So... Joker. How far into thisplace do we need to go before we find Shadows?"
"It shouldn't be far," Joker says. His eyes scan the scene in front of them, and fix at last on something Futaba hasn't noticed yet. There's a hallway down at one end of the entryway, and walking up it, flanked by two guards...
"What's he doing here?"
"That's Kamoshida," Takamaki says. "How is Kamoshida here?"
"It's not the him of the real world," Joker says, shifting smoothly to stand in front o Futaba and Takamaki. "This is his Shadow, built around his subconscious mind. Those guards--" He gestures at the two knights on either side of Kamoshida. "They're Shadows too, pulled from the collective unconscious of humanity."
"There's a difference?" Takamaki asks.
'"Yes," Joker says. "They--yes, there definitely is a difference."
"Oh," Takamaki says. Then, "Why is Kamoshida's Shadow naked?
Joker doesn't have time to answer that before Kamoshida's Shadow is on them, but Futaba knows the answer anyway. This is Kamoshida's heart. his Palace--she likes Joker's terms for these things-- and even though she'd only met him for like half a second before Takasaki showed up to save her, Futaba already knows he's a creep. His shadow is just saying the quiet part out loud, that's all.
"Well," Kamoshida's Shadow says, leering at Takamaki over Joker's shoulder. "There you are. A little bit overdressed for the occasion, but we can fix that."
"Ew," Joker says, and his nose under his mask crinkles up in obvious disgust.
"Excuse me?" Takamaki demands.
"Come here," Kamoshida's Shadow says, waving one hand imperiously at her.
"No way." Takamaki says. She laughs with absolutely no humor whatsoever. "Are you kidding? Are you hearing yourself?"
Joker's posture keeps shifting, Futaba notices. As Takamaki gets angrier, Joker first seems like he's really trying to keep himself between Takamaki and Kamoshida's Shadow. Then, as Takamaki bristles with rage, he seems to slip a little. He keeps looking sideways at Takamaki, almost... expectant?
"Your place is with me," Kamoshida's Shadow says. He's not even angry that Takasaki is yelling at him, or that Joker is holding a knife with clear intent to use it. He's almost oblivious, obviously expecting that everything is just going to fall into line with his Palace, his world.
Futaba looks at Kamoshida, and she's completely, utterly torn on how to feel. Looking at Kamoshida's shadow here is like being back on the sidewalk on her way to Shujin, except that everything he'd bothered to hide before is out in the open for everyone to see. Whether they want to or not. And so Futaba, the introvert, the shut in, is trembling in her shoes over seeing this unfiltered Kamoshida leering at their group.
But also, this is exactly the kind of stuff her mom had been researching when she'd died. This is what she'd wanted so desperately that she'd killed herself because Futaba kept whining at her to work on it less.
Futaba has to know, she has to see for herself, what had made that research so important. She'd driven her mom to her death over this, and so she needs this all to matter.
(Still, Kamoshida's Shadow is terrifying)
While she's standing there, shaken and torn by indecision, Takamaki apparently makes a decision. Futaba has only been half paying attention to her, but the older girl's whole posture has gone so tense it must be hurting her, and now she says in a tight voice, "No way."
Kamoshida's Shadow laughs at her. A little snort, like he's watching a cat do something funny online.
And that laugh, apparently, breaks Takamaki. She screams, and Futaba feels Joker pull her away, putting a hand on each of her shoulders and half lifting her up off the ground, turning and shielding her with his body as an explosion of power suddenly bursts free from Takamaki. Futaba, squirming desperately to be able to see what's going on (without necessarily breaking out of Joker's protective grasp, because actually what the fuck), gets a glimpse of Takamaki with blood on her face and something red in her hand, screaming in wordless outrage at Kamoshida's Shadow.
Futaba wonders how long Takamaki has been bottling this up inside her. She wonders if Takamaki is okay. That blood doesn't look good, and the burst of power that Joker had pulled her back from had blown Kamoshida and his guards halfway across the room. They crash into a wall in a mangled smashing of bodies and metal, and fall to the ground in a pile on top of each other.
And there is something new in the air, hovering protectively, angrily, over Takamaki. Futaba has never seen anything like this before, but she knows immediately what is. Joker had described things like this. He'd called them Persona.
"Woah..." Takamaki breathes, staring up at the thing. Her anger at Kamoshida isn't gone, Futaba can still see that conviction burning in her, but it's different now. Less helpless, maybe?
(Futaba is jealous)
Joker is looking at the same thing Futaba is, the same thing Takamaki is, and he laughs. "Carmen!" he calls, and the thing, the Persona, turns its head to look at him. Joker gives it a sweeping, full body bow, and when he lifts his face again, eyes dancing, he says, "Welcome to the show."
The Persona--Carmen?--gives him a nod of its head in acknowledgment. Its face is hard to read, but Futaba guesses maybe amused? Entertained? Its almost laughing at Joker, but it doesn't seem mean.
There's a sound from the far end of the room, and Futaba's attention is immediately redirected. "Actually," she says, taking a nervous couple of steps back. "I'm starting to think that now might be a good time to get out of here?"
"Right," Joker says, and whirls around, gesturing for Futaba and Takamaki to follow. Both of them do. Possibly-Carmen (Futaba still isn't sure if Joker's guess at its name had been right) disappears as they hurry away. In the more empty space it leaves behind, Futaba finally notices that Takamaki's clothes have changed too. They look--uh. Well, they look like something from the parts of the Internet Kamoshida probably hangs out.
"What are you wearing?" Futaba demands, as they run.
Takamaki seems to notice for the first time, looking down at her new clothes and shrieking. And just like that, they go up in smoke, leaving her back in her school uniform.
"Later problem," Joker says, and since they are still being chased, he's probably right. He half turns to look over his shoulder at them, and says, "You two need to get out of here.'
"What about you?" Takamaki asks, in the same second that Futaba says, "We don't even know how we got here!"
"My way in doesn't really help anyone else," Joker says. which is a funny thing to say that Futaba doesn't have time to examine. "You have to have done something."
Takamaki looks over her shoulder at Futaba and says, "I thought I heard something in your phone when we got here that said it was navigating? Can it get us back?"
Futaba hesitates. She wants to say no, because her phone isn't even in her bag. and the one that is there, she's not supposed to have. But she shrugs her bag off her shoulder, grabs the stolen--borrowed--phone, and flicks past the hacked lock screen. Her eyes go wide. "There actually is something here!" she blurts. "I don't know how it got on the phone, but there's some kind of navigation app."
Joker slows until he's level with where Futaba is trailing behind the other two and cranes his neck to look over her shoulder at the screen. "Well there you go," he says, and leans in to tap a button that says 'return to real world'.
"Wait--!" Futaba says, but it's too late. The world twists, the way it had earlier when they entered the Palace, and after a confusing few seconds, spits her and Takamaki out, across the street from school. Joker is nowhere to be seen.
Futaba stares at her phone, and then at Takasaki, who is leaning back against a wall, breathing hard. For long seconds they just stare, and then, because of everything else they've been through this morning, she has to ask. "Takamaki," she says. "Are we friends?"
And Takamaki doesn't laugh at her. She smiles, but it's a nice smile. "Call me Ann," she says.
-//-
Akira wakes up with a start as a ruler slams down onto the desk in front of him. Only half aware of what's going on, and primed for violence by every morning of the last few weeks, he instinctively tries to shy away from the sound. It doesn't go amazingly well for him, and he tangles himself around the desk instead, and just barely manages to get his eyes open in time to avoid hitting the floor.
His watching classmates are not kind. Very few of them even try not to laugh, and their teacher drones out. "Please try to be less of a disruption, Kurusu. Lights out is at ten, and you are meant to be asleep at that point. Not in my classroom. Understood?"
Akira really should agree. Keep his head down, avoid arguing, just say whatever the teacher wants to hear. But something in him sparks instead, something leftover from the dream he'd been started out of, and instead he says, "No."
"Kurusu--"
He makes the mistake of looking up at his teacher, who is holding the ruler like he'd very much like to bring it down on Akira instead of the desk, and wavers. Gives in. Training schools aren't meant to be as bad as actual jail jails, but in his experience so far, they're closer to that than regular schools. The students are still locked up, in their classrooms during the day and in cramped dorms that are basically cells overnight. They're still guarded. They're still looked down on like they have no value at all.
He lowers his gaze.
The something in him sparks again, and as his teacher moves on, goes back to lecturing, he promises himself that next time he won't back down. Next time, he'll find the right words. The right way to rebel while he's in the worst place in the world to do that.
He sits there, eyes on his desk, listening to the teacher just enough to be able to reply if his teacher decides to test whether or not he's awake by calling on him. It doesn't take that much of his brain, and with the rest of his attention he's busy wishing, hard that his probation hadn't fallen through. He keeps thinking of what life would be like right now, if he was there instead of here. A guard had mentioned at his intake here that his potential probation officer had been planning to have him stay in the attic over the cafe he runs, and since that breaks several parole requirements, the whole program had been declared unfit for purpose.
Akira doesn't care about whatever requirements it's breaking. He thinks it would have been amazing to be there, relatively free, even on probation, sleeping in an attic instead of a cell.
The guard had mentioned the name of the cafe, too. Laughed over it. He'd called it Leblanc, and Akira had grabbed at the name of the place that could have been his home, the place that represents the difference between having freedom and not, and keeps it tucked in close to him. For long nights in a dorm-cell with no windows, and for moments like this when he desperately wants to be anywhere else.
Class continues. Akira thinks about Leblanc. He does not doze off again, although it's a close thing. He knows there are consequences to being caught breaking rules too many times. He doesn't want those consequences. But..
Well, he kind of wishes he could close his eyes and drop back into his earlier dream. He can't remember it, not one single detail, but he has a feeling it had been special.