Chapter Text
Haru tries to coax her plants to perk up a little, twining bits of them to the wooden stakes she’s put in a number of the pots. She’s hoping they’ll climb on their own towards the sun, stop drooping so much. The weather has been unbearably hot, and it seems like they’re shrinking from the heat. Even though she waters them regularly.
“We have to,” Makoto says. “Akira is down for the count, okay? That’s a nonstarter. I feel like we have more leads on Akechi, like it’ll be easier too. We could really use him for Akira. I think it’s our best option.”
“I get what you’re saying, it makes sense,” Ryuji sighs. “But still. I mean is it really a good idea? I mean we’re pretty sure he killed...you know. Is he really going to work with us? Do we really think his palace will be any easier than Akira’s?”
Haru drags her hands through the soil, feeling the texture against her fingertips. It’s already drying out. After quiet deliberation, she picks up her watering can and goes around watering them. Just a little, it may rain in the next few days. And the world desperately needs rain in this awful heat wave.
“What choice do we have?” Ann murmurs. “Sit back? Watch it all play out and not do anything? Is that who we are now?”
“Just because Akira isn’t with us doesn’t make us useless!” Makoto shouts, then groans. “Come on guys, we’re more than our leader. He saw us all for a reason, we’re all Phantom Thieves. We have our own power, separate from him. I’m telling you, this is our best bet.”
Haru sniffs, then sneezes. The water in her watering can spills slightly over, splashing over her hands and spilling onto her legs and feet. The water soaks into her tights, and she feels it seep into her shoes and socks.
“Bless you.”
Her hands tremble for a moment, and she clutches the handle of the watering can. It’s just water. She takes a deep breath.
And she chucks the watering can at the ground as hard as she can. It makes a loud crash as it hits the ground, and Haru watches it roll over, the side of it dented considerably. Deep in her chest she feels satisfaction at the destruction she’s caused, although her immediate response is still to crouch down and pick up the watering can.
“Haru?” Ann’s hand is on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“Okay,” she says. “Alright.”
She swallows, straightens, steps back and smoothes her clothes down. She shakes the water off her shoes and hands, stepping further away from the growing puddle of water. She can’t salvage her tights or her socks, but it’s fine. It’s nothing she can’t change out of. Nothing she can’t easily fix. She doesn’t have to freak out.
“Yes.” She turns to Ann. “I’m alright. I know why we have to do what we have to do, but I don’t like it. I don’t want to save a murderer.”
“We still don’t know anything about him,” Makoto reminds her.
“I know. And I can only assume when we do, I’ll feel bad. I’ll forgive him for some reason we have yet to uncover.” Haru feels bitter, but she swallows it down. “I don’t want to give him a second chance when my father didn’t get one. But I get it. We have to. So I will. I’m in.”
“Haru...”
She takes out her phone, the stupid app that she thought would be her one way ticket to saving her father. She didn’t realize things would get so complicated back then, when all she wanted was to have her home back. She just wanted her father’s hand to loosen a little, not let go entirely.
Now she’s left alone, managing an entire company by herself with no real guidance she feels she can rely entirely on. Besides that there’s this.
She doesn’t want everyone to see her like this, she doesn’t want their comfort or their pity. She wants to get this over with.
“Akechi Goro,” she says, steeling her voice.
Of course it’s a hit. She knew that before she even spoke it aloud. It’s no surprise, not after everything he did.
It’s quiet for a moment.
Haru examines all the things she thought she knew about Akechi. He’s a Detective, extremely sharp and quick witted, very strong in battle, over dramatic. He was always putting on an act for them, the comments he made to them all were all just to guide them towards an unseemly fate. He was able to keep his act up easily, without fail. Never would they have caught wind of his true intentions if not for one tiny mistake he made in the very beginning. Something he didn’t even have control over. Akechi manipulated all of them with a smile.
He tried to kill Akira.
Haru takes a deep breath.
“I don’t know,” she says. “Police station, jail, movie, stage—“
Haru finds all the air in her lungs knocked out at once, a little floored she’s gotten it. It always feels like Akira finds these things out, she’s usually stumped on them. A stage. He really thinks this is all some show that he’s acting in.
She looks up.
“Good job,” Makoto murmurs, though her mind seems elsewhere. “Where though?”
Haru wants to make some joke about doing all the work, but can’t find the energy. She sets her phone down and watches numbly as everyone starts guessing. She tunes entirely out of the conversation, sitting and starting to pick at her wet tights. They’ll certainly tear, she doesn’t think she can salvage this particular pair.
The route begins before Haru bothers tuning back in. Before she even knows what’s happening properly, she’s in her Metaverse clothes. At least her clothes aren’t wet anymore.
“Already a threat,” Makoto comments. “I suppose it makes sense, he must be aware in some capacity we’re here. We should be careful.”
Haru slings her axe over her shoulder and looks around critically. Everything is black and red here, and there’s a crowd that stretches for miles. The stage lies far far ahead, but still. She settles into the familiarity of being in the Metaverse, having a clear goal laid out in front of her.
“This is odd,” Haru says quietly. “There’s no way things will be this easy. Where’s the rest of the palace?”
“Below the stage.” Futaba’s voice crackles on in her earpiece. “There are several levels underneath. The treasure is at the very bottom level.”
Haru thinks that the last thing she wants to do right now is be here, among a cheering crowd while she can only assume Akechi Goro is up on that stage performing his heart out. Just like he did for all of them. The fact that they saw through him so quickly makes up for none of what happened.
Haru didn’t miss the way in which he spoke to Akira, leaned in so close and listened so intently. Was that show? She saw how he and Makoto truly poked fun at each other, too gentle. How he seemed to actually look, actually see all of them. He even spoke softly to Haru about her father, as if he himself didn’t murder him. Sympathized with her, he mentioned his own mother to Haru’s face. It seemed so genuine.
How was all of that show?
In her heart, she can’t help but feel that maybe somewhere in there, there was a small semblance of truth. She knows he works for someone, so maybe...maybe he was just too scared to say no. She doesn’t want to think about it, about the possibility of them being similar. That terrifies her, more than anything.
Haru shoves forward through the crowd, pushing the faceless masses aside with the blunt side of her axe.
Whatever the truth is, she aims to find it. Even if it is scary.