Chapter Text
After you're done with the transaction in Shibuya I need you to check something out for me in Ueno later, bring Minako and Fuuka. Further details in the enclosed file.
-Mitsuru.
December 28th
Time: Evening.
Weather: Rain, mild chance of thunderstorms.
The Tokyo Metropolitan Youth Artist’s gala, hosted at the prestigious Ueno museum of the arts, was the premier art gala for the young and aspiring artists of Japan. Patroned by a joint coalition of several foundations and the National University of the Arts, the gala was where the great masters and institutions of the Japanese art world and the international scene would come to scope out and scour new talent. The residencies offered were prestigious and coveted fiercely as a result. Many of the new names of the greater Japanese art scene still worked in them or were closely associated with the foundations and organizations that offered them. If any young artists felt brave enough, they could enter their art and provided that they met the stringent requirements and won the approval of the famously cynical and austere board of judges then they would be awarded a spot in the gala, moreover if an artist was particularly skilled and impressed the judges enough they could be awarded a spot in the gala to showcase their art in a personal gallery. Winning such a privilege was both rare and a guarantee of future success and celebrity in the greater art world.
Ichiryusai Madarame once had his paintings in the gala many years ago while he was still a student working under his former sensei. Madarame, while not winning the gallery prize spot, became a titan of the art world both in Japan and abroad. He was one of Shibuya’s great masters, a man said to live with a monk’s humility and a samurai’s sense of nobility. A kind gentlemanly old man with a strong sense of noblesse oblige. His word was near law in the upper circles of art, his eye for talent and opinions were just as jealousy desired as his patronage as a teacher.
...Until the Phantom Thieves intervened, and Madarame had confessed his sins and every ugly truth behind the man was brought to light. Every piece of art he had plagiarized, every career he had ruined, the abuse, the lies of his lifestyle and the unearthing of the Sayuri scam ring had destroyed every last bit of both Madarame’s credibility and nearly ruined the reputations of every foundation he ever worked with. The arts coalition, after almost a year of apologizing and reparations, had now finally wiped their hands of Madarame and were now trying to preserve their own reputation and that of their prized gala.
The gala itself was as snobbish and gaudy as one woul-
“Ah, Aragaki-chan!”
Shinjiro withheld a groan as he slowly turned around. “Ishida...” Shinjiro chafed in his suit as he turned and met the reason he was at this Messiah damned gala. Fuuka and Minako dressed in their black formal dresses just snickered behind his broad back.
Yoshie ‘shi-shi’ Ishida, a mixed-media specialist and renowned eccentric even by the standards of the Shibuya art scene, all 4 feet 9 inches of him. The man had the largest bowl cut Shinjiro had ever seen on a human head dyed to a shocking snow white. Dressed in a black turtleneck, tight fitting leopard print pants with a painfully pink fur coat trailing behind him like a bridal train.
Yoshie giggled obnoxiously behind a pair of bug-like fuchsia sunglasses, scrunching up his porkly nose. “Well, aren’t you still charming~. I was wondering when my favourite little sous chef would arrive.”
Fuuka nearly inhaled her tongue upon seeing Shinjiro’s sour expression. Ishida however either didn't notice or care.
Ignoring how Yoshie got his title wrong. Shinjiro, ever the diplomat, gave a polite smile and continued on. Now if those two hyenas would also stop laughing behind him that would also be great. “Thank you again for the tickets, Ishida-san” Shinjiro replied amicably, emphasizing the honorific. The artist just laughed and ignored his obvious attempt to set boundaries.
“Oh nonsense~, it was my pleasure Aragaki-Chan,” Shinjiro’s left eye twitched. “It was the least I could do after you catered my private gallery last month on such short notice.” The much shorter man just gave an ‘ohohoho’ from behind a paper fan he pulled out from his flamingo sleeves. “Ah, duty calls, do enjoy yourself Aragaki-Chan! You mustn't get so wrapped up in your little kitchen so much, go and enjoy the other forms of non-edible art!” with a twirl of bubble gum fur and another obnoxious laugh the man disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind a very disgruntled Shinjiro and two very amused women.
“How the hell did you ever get to be friends with a guy like that?” Minako snickered.
The chef just grumbled. “We. are. not. friends.” He punctuated. “I just know one of his artist friends who asked if I could cater for him.”
“Uh huh, sure Aragaki-Chan” Minako sniggered as Fuuka spluttered into her champagne trying to hide her snorts, inhaling a bit of the alcohol.
“Why did I even come here? More importantly, why did I bring you two along?”
“Because the only others that were free were Junpei and Ryoji and those two shouldn’t be around polite company when free alcohol is involved” Minako snorts. “And Akihiko would probably try to wrestle a statue.” That got Shinji to smile slightly.
“And for the first question, because we’re on explicit orders from Mitsuru,” Fuuka murmured before taking out her phone to show Shinjiro a screenshot of a news website.
[ JAVARTS.jp:
Yusuke Kitagawa wins the N.U.A Tokyo Metropolitan Youth Gala’s top prize spot!
The young artist renowned for his captivating art pieces wins the coveted gallery showing. ]
“Kitagawa was Madarame’s last pupil. This is his first ever public appearance that we know of in months or ever really… Mitsu wants us to get as much information about Madarame’s change of heart as possible.” Fuuka hummed.
“I get that, but why do we have to go to this damn gala, why not just hack into his shit or have Akihiko stalk him?” Shinjiro sighed. “This is a waste of a perfectly good night.”
Fuuka just rolled her eyes. “Oh lighten up! Yoshie was right, you need to get out and see some art.” Minako laughed and Shinjiro just grumbled. “Besides Kitagawa is a known recluse, having Akihiko follow him would be hard even without the Tokyo PD breathing down our necks. Plus we’re already in Tokyo so...”
“Anyways… I did want to come here anyway. This year's gala is the largest one since their 30th anniversary. Mostly because they're trying to absolve themselves of the whole Madarame thing...” A soft sigh escaped the teal haired woman’s lips
‘And the Phantom Thieves’ went unsaid by the navigator. Mentions of Ren had become tense lately for obvious reasons since Christmas.
“Look, let’s just focus on the gala for now Fuu-chan. Don’t let this old grouch rub off on you!” Minako said, linking her arms with the younger woman. “Oh, I know! Let's go see the sculpture section, I heard they got a few international artists for that one!”
Shinjiro let out an exasperated sigh as the red twin dragged Fuuka towards a gallery room, slamming down the rest of his champagne and placing the glass on a collecting tray he chased after them.
“ Sculptures of the youth of today, bringing forth the masters of tomorrow ” Neat gilded font on emerald cloth.
God what an obnoxious title, Shinji thought as he looked over the banner in front of the archway. The gallery room was the size of a high school gymnasium, featuring a high ceiling with ornate LED light fixtures dangling from it. The section the trio had wandered off into was of course the mixed media section, Shinjiro just hoped he wouldn’t run into Yoshie again. Honestly, all the art was impressive, the amount of detail and craftsmanship made him temporarily forget that the art for the gala was primarily made by teenagers and young adults.
“Guys! Look at this!” Minako gasped. Turning around he saw Minako and Fuuka standing before a sculpture of a large black dragon, made of twisted black metal pipes and painted clay. Wings stretched into an imposing arc, the dragon’s mouth was stretched into a cruel smile, its whip-like tail was covered in rusty nails and curled around its base. Wait this is...
Fuuka gasped “Minako...This is.”
“Seth,” Minako whispered faintly.
Shinjiro’s eyes widened recalling the draconic persona Minako and Minato had called upon years ago. Seth was one of the darker Personas the twins would use and though he would never admit it, it gave him the creeps (scratch that, it terrified him a bit) wherever he heard the black dragon cackle and screech in battle.
“This shouldn't be...This is a near replica. No one should be able to replicate a persona like this! ” Minako hissed under her breath “ what the hell!? ”. Shinjiro had to agree, he could feel Seth's familiar presence within the statue, it was eerie. The same chill in his spine from when Minako had first summoned was dancing across the middle of his back.
What the fuck? A stupid pile of painted metal should not be affecting him this much. Shaking his head, Shinjiro pushed aside his discomfort.
So what if the dragon was creepy? Minako had summoned the actual devil...twice! (not to mention whatever the hell Mara was…) Why the hell was this statue of some overgrown lizard affecting him so much?
Looking back to his companions he was met with the sight of Fuuka trying to snap Minako out of a daze she’d put herself in, ranting under her breath in a hushed whisper completely dead to the world around her.
Before he could try to help Fuuka snap Minako out he was interrupted.
“Ah, I see you've become acquainted with the work of one of our best artists!” a greying old man in a tan suit chuckled as he approached their little group. Fuuka jumped up, nearly yelping, Shinji would have found it hilarious under different circumstances. “Yes, this is Seth .” So he had been eavesdropping. He pointed to the plaque in front of the dragon. “The young man behind this piece described it as a visualization of one of humanity’s collective... hm, what was it- ah yes. He described it as one of humanity’s personas , one of the many masks we all wear, this one representing our darker and selfish nature as a monstrous dragon of old European lore. It’s named after the ancient Egyptian god of desert storms and evil"
Unknown to the old man, the three shared a look at the mention of the p-word , with Minako letting out a soft hiss behind her teeth.
Minako wanted to slam her head against the wall as the old man went off on some tangent about ancient Egypt. Completely ignorant to the fact that Minako had the damn dragon in her head for months and probably knew more than any living person about ancient Egypt (save for her brother, maybe also Yu.) due to the fact that Seth and Horus never seemed to shut up about the “good old days”. God, she was starting to remember the migraines she would get when those two were placed in her roster together…
“...This is but only one of Kitagawa-Kun’s sculptures from this series.”
Wait what.
“Really? Are there more in this room?” Minako asked a bit too quickly.
“Ah yes of course, please follow me!” the man said excitedly, not noticing Minako’s unnatural fervour, too caught up in finally having an enthusiastic audience.
Before them were four more statues made of painted metal and clay. Minako murmured the names of the Persona under her breath; Surt, Fortuna, Trumpeter and Odin.
They were master craftworks, with the delicate hardened clay being placed in between the various types of metal. Pipe, wire, sheet, nail and blade all blended together perfectly. They were beautiful, the posing of each entity and how the materials were integrated with each, and the faithfulness to their appearances spoke of the amount of time and care the artist had put into them. Minako was staring intently at them, speaking softly under her breath almost in a daze, words too quiet for either Shinjiro or Fuuka to hear. To all three’s discomfort, they could all feel the presence emanating from the statues as they peered up at them, just as they felt with Seth earlier.
Shinjiro averted his eyes from Odin’s electrifying gaze and moved onto Fortuna’s teasing wink. He refused to meet eyes with Trumpeter.
“What was the name of the artist again, sir?” Shinjiro asked in Minako’s stead, noticing that the shorter girl still hadn’t snapped out of her mystified state.
“Ah, Yusuke Kitagawa. He’s one of our more renowned artists due to his art style and his...past.” Shinjiro raised an unimpressed eyebrow. The man was incredibly hesitant to mention anything about Kitagawa’s ties to Madarame. Biting back his first instinct as an operative to press and interrogate the man further he decided to let it go. The man wouldn't know anything important, his target was Kitagawa himself, no need to busy himself with some random aide.
He had a rough idea of why this teen artist knew what several Personas looked like. Looks like they finally found a lead into the Phantom Thieves investigation, and more importantly what Ren had been up to in Tokyo. Taking Shinjiro’s silence as quiet awe of Kitagawa’s artwork, the aide carried on.
“Kitagawa-kun is going to be giving a speech tonight as he won a gallery showing of his art pieces this year. If you are enamoured by his sculptures you will most certainly adore his paintings even more, that is what he is most famous for after all.” The elder man gave a genial smile as he wrung his hands together in delight.
“When will his gallery be open for viewing?” Shinji asked, quirking a brow. The old guide looked at his wristwatch, stroking his jowls with his other hand.
“In half an hour, in the blue wing. Allow me to give you directions” the guide said jovially. “I recommend you go early, however. Young Kitagawa’s time is quite coveted, along with space in the showroom.”
Jackpot.
After twenty minutes of traversing through the near labyrinthian Museum, no thanks in part to the old man’s confusing directions, they finally made it to the crowded entrance of the blue wing, the guide wasn't exaggerating about Kitagawa’s popularity. Two large ochre doors with brass handles were tightly shut with two attendants standing beside them on either side. Several navy blue banners hung from the surrounding hall depicting dynamic silhouettes and landscapes.
“The collected artworks of Yusuke Kitagawa: Explorations into Beauty, Truth, and Justice; N.U.A Youth Gallery Exhibition Prize, first place winner | with featured guests”
Minako picked up a pamphlet and began reading aloud.
“Yusuke Kitagawa, aged seventeen is currently an honour student at Kosei Academy of the fine arts. He has quickly become a rising star in the Tokyo art scene after he won the Japanese Art Support Foundation’s 2019 art competition, beating out artists that were in some cases older and more experienced than him. The foundation director himself offered Kitagawa-San the full support of the foundation, however, Kitagawa-San declined the offer citing that ‘his bonds and his resolve’ will be what sustains him and his art. Kitagawa beyond his newfound place in art society has taken up a role of activism, positing himself as an outspoken critic against corruption both inside Japan’s art world and beyond it. Kitagawa’s infamous November interview had become a rallying point for like-minded young artists tired of the deterioration of both modern Japanese art culture and the current political landscape.
“-It is not ignoble to have desires, we human beings are beings of desire. Desires as much as they can corrupt us also sustain us, we desire to breathe, to sleep, to eat, to live. There is nothing wrong with doing things for yourself in order to meet your basic needs, a lesson that I, myself had to learn. Art, after all, is not dispassionate suffering. Instead, art must be done for the sake of others, those whom we wish to convey our message to, whom we wish to inspire. If art is to truly live and inspire it must not be made to satiate mortal greed or for the sake of hollow vanity... We all saw this year, what becomes of you when that happens.
...Our society is quickly sinking into wanton desire and excess. If we want a future for ourselves as true artists then we must fight against this tide of distortion and corruption both in the world of art and in the world around us.”
- Yusuke Kitagawa in an interview with J-Storm National Artists Magazine, November 30th, 2019.
...Kitagawa’s art style is refreshingly unique, borrowing influence from his peers, the old masters and the world around him to create the visionary abstract landscapes and portraits he is now famous for. From myth to metaphor, poetry to politics, acrylic to clay, Kitagawa’s talent and dedication earned him his rightful spot as the first place winner for the 2020 N.U.A exhibition prize...”
The rest of the pamphlet just went on to describe Kitagawa-kun’s art style and more interviews from the competition judges espousing praise for the young artist along with details of his recent work as an activist, such as pushing for greater use of art therapy in prisons and correctional facilities, advocating for rehabilitation over punishment. Kitagawa even had ties with other famous youths forming a neat little clique of socialites and debutant-activists like Ann Takamaki and Hifumi Togo.
-An interview with Ann Takamaki
Q: “If you could describe Kitagawa-san with one word, which would it be?”
A: “If I could describe Yusuke in one word it would be; eccentric, in the most affectionate way of course. Some people may find his approach to conversation odd. However, his dedication to art and his constant pursuit of muse is inspiring, and is what ultimately wins you over.”
Q: “How did you and Kitagawa-san meet?”
A: “Funny story actually. I thought he was stalking me at the train station! But imagine my surprise when my supposed stalker asked me to be his model for his next painting. *laughter* I still haven’t let him live that one down!” -
Minako gave out a low hum of appreciation, this kid was impressive. She’d have to save the pamphlet; Rise was a big fan of Ann Takamaki, she remembers her gushing in the group chat when Takamaki uploaded a video of her dancing to one of her songs on that one clock app that teens like Nanako-chan were using.
Before the conversation could continue, the large doors of the blue wing opened and the uniformed attendants quietly ushered the excited crowd inside the gallery.
Pocketing away the pamphlet into her purse she dragged her two companions with her.
Kitagawa’s personal venue was surprisingly big, just slightly larger than the sculpture gallery room. It was styled like a large ballroom, with high ceilings with metal rafters, plush blue carpet lined the floors intermingled with patches of cool black tile. Little gold lights crawled along the navy walls like wil-o-wisps while larger chandeliers above them bathed the exhibit in their soft glow.
A staggering amount of paintings lined the walls and many more were hung from the ceilings by taut wire, illuminated by carefully placed lamps. A large rectangular canvas, suspended by invisible black cable, was placed at the entrance, the painting was of what appeared to be a large masculine figure in a dashing red suit, the colour deep and rich as split blood. His face was hidden by the tipped brim of his black top hat, that rested behind a set of curling horns. Violent strokes of crimson and black danced across the figure’s back, converging into a violent looking purple roaring out like flame, looking like a twisted version of angel wings against the mottled background. Fuuka read from the small copper plaque resting on a metal stand in front of the portrait.
Twilight Trickster ; Acrylic on canvas. 2019
Minako frowned as Fuuka read out the name.
Trickster?
She gazed up at the demonic figure, it loomed over the gathering crowd that was oohing and ahhing over its magnificence. Squinting up at the canvas, she felt a pull towards the figure in red, looking closely she could see the tiniest bit of a cauldron-like face peeking out from underneath the wide brim, a gleeful smile made of hellfire hidden carefully by gentle strokes of black paint.
“Ars...ene...” a voice whispered sweetly inside her head. The soft syllables rattled around in her skull, urging her to keep her eyes on the canvas.
‘Orpheus?’
The singer just gave an amused laugh, before fading away into silence and the low din of the crowd slowly reached her ears again.
Shinji placed a hand carefully on the red twin’s shoulder, gently shaking her out of her daze “Minako? You okay?” he asked. “If you still aren’t feeling well we-”
“-Sorry! I was just really focused on the painting” She chirped. At Shinjiro’s worried expression she laughed gently, placing a reassuring hand on the taller man’s shoulder. “I’m fine, Shinji. It’s over now, don’t worry.” The man let out a sigh and reluctantly let go of her shoulder. Minako giggled, what a big softie.
Even after all this time, it still endeared both her and her brother to no end about how much the rest of SEES would dote and worry about them. That fateful March fifth had long since passed many years ago and she and Minato had recovered from what happened during Christmas ...
She shook her head. No, this was neither the time nor place to get caught up in her memories.
“Hm, I don't blame you.” Fuuka hummed in agreement, brushing away her own worry.. “There’s just something about it, it’s almost hypnotic in a way. Kitagawa-san’s talent isn’t to be underestimated I guess.”
“It’s creepy” Shinjiro muttered, scowling when Fukka swatted his shoulder.
“Don’t be rude.” she tutted, reprimanding his behaviour.
Moving around Minako could see that there was a small impromptu stage in the center of the gallery room being swept by a techie, with a few others fiddling around with a microphone stand and speakers.
Minako could only agree that Kitagawa was not to be underestimated as they walked through the exhibit, dutifully following the labelled footpaths. The art on display was breathtaking. That pamphlet was right, the way Kitagawa blended abstract art with traditional landscapes was seamless and masterful with the tells of an experienced master of many years, not a seventeen year old greenhorn. Dizzying landscapes of multicoloured maelstroms and technicolour bursts making up the heads of human subjects, burning visages of forests and lakes made of contrasting hues and pigments. There was a still life painting of a kunai-like dagger, stuck into a bowl of vividly coloured fruit and vegetables, the broad splashes of obnoxious bright paint threatening to give her a headache if she stared at it too long.
No persona’s yet however.
Curiously, a large chunk of the paintings lacked Kitagawa’s signature, with many paintings having their corners smudged and painted over.
Something caught Fuuka’s eye, darting out from her place at Shinjiro’s side she marched up to a painting of a golden pyramid in a sea of red sand. An emerald sun bathed the sandstone stone steps in an ethereal glow, swirls of greens and white forming a subtle face, grinning with malice and furious eyes. Six wraith-like figures were seen crawling around the bricks of the pyramid, poised like vipers ready to strike from the shadows.
“ The Pyramid of Wrath . Oil on canvas.”
Compared to the other paintings this was the least ‘abstract’ one so far. It reminded her a lot of Alibaba’s logo and that infernal screensaver the little shit had put onto her second favourite laptop
She’ll bounce ideas off of Shinjiro later.
“Hey, I think that’s Kitagawa,” Shinjiro said, bringing Fuuka out of her thoughts. Following Shinji's tilted champagne glass she saw a tall young man in a white dress shirt and a pair of plain black slacks standing on the stage adjusting the microphone’s level to his mouth and engaging in a hushed conversation with two men in pressed suits at his side, the judges perhaps? After a minute of gesturing and frantic shakes of the head, the blue haired teen scoffed and walked off the stage, disappearing into the crowd.
“He seems a bit… Particular…” Minako said, watching as the poor aides and techies were left scrambling with whatever Kitagawa said.
Shinjiro snorted. “What artist isn't?”
Fuuka just shrugged. “Well he’s giving his speech at around ten-thirty and it’s only nine right now.”
Minako laughed before locking her arms around the two other SEES members.
“C’mon we still haven't seen everything, let's go!” she said, dragging a delighted navigator and an affronted chef by the crooks of their elbows towards the far left end of the showroom.
Minako had dragged them towards the portrait section, or rather the room with the most non-landscape and abstract paintings, Kitagawa’s style of presentation was more of an organized chaos rather than a cohesive or set plan, with curated guest paintings interspaced between his own works. Numerous sketches and paintings made from a wide assortment of mediums ranging from black ink to white chalk dotted the wall.
A crowd of people huddled closely in a stylized version of a subway car, Ink.
Salarymen sharing conversation in a cafe, watercolour.
A woman with bright blonde hair and even brighter blue eyes holding a red whip betraying the true meaning of her angelic smile, blends of natural and synthetic oil paints.
And so on and so on.
Oh?
They made their way to the very edge of the portrait section.
Two figures, one in black the other in navy blue. A tender moment between a young man and woman.
The taller man leaning into the crook of his beloved’s neck placing a soft kiss at her lower jaw. The way the two subjects were posed reminded Shinjiro of ‘ The Kiss’ by Klimt. How odd, the man seemed not to have eyes, only curly black locks and a pair of engaged but still smiling lips. The woman in comparison had a complete visage, with straight mahogany coloured hair cut into a bob, her beau's fingers gently parting her bangs. Two twinkling rubies gleamed through her half-lidded eyes. Rose petal pink lips were parted slightly in a serene smile. How odd, the edge of the painting was a bare white, the canvas still peeking through.
It was voyeuristic he had to admit.
Shinjiro feels like he should be looking away like this was a moment that he shouldn't be invading. Funny, he’s never been a big art guy. But damn, Yoshie may have been right, he needs to get out more...
Fuuka’s eyes narrowed at the bottom of the painting and walked closer to it. “hey there’s no little plaque or name for this-”
THWUMP!
Spinning around she had meant to show the other two, instead, she landed face first into someone's bony chest, a white dress shirt muffling her soft ‘oof’.
“OH my goodness I’m so sorry!” Fuuka scrambled back with an embarrassing squeak, bowing deeply in apology, and ignoring Minako’s snorts of laughter.
“No worries! Please raise your head, there’s no need to be so formal.” A sophisticated voice reassured her nervously.
Looking up, Fuuka saw that she was face to face with none other than Yusuke Kitagawa himself, who was currently fixing his shirt, thank god she hadn't spilled anything on him. The artist once satisfied at how his shirt looked, made eye contact with the Navi.
“My apologies ma’am, the fault is mine alone. I should have been more careful and stood at a more appropriate distance.”
“Um, apology accepted but don't worry! I guess we can just share the blame then?” Fuuka chuckled awkwardly.
“Very well, then” Kitagawa laughed. “Ah, where are my manners? I’m Yusuke Kitagawa.”
“Fuuka Yamagishi,” Fuuka introduced, nodding slightly. “And these are my friends, Shinjiro Aragaki and Minako Arisato.” Kitagawa raised his eyebrows in look of practiced interest.
“Ah, you're the chef Ishida is talking about.” Kitagawa gave Shinjiro a sympathetic grimace. “My condolences.”
“Thanks,” Shinjiro snorted. “Luckily, I’ve only had to talk to him only once tonight so far.” Kitagawa’s lips twitched up in amusement.
“Then, I would avoid the dining hall for now if you wish to keep it that way. Ishida’s currently giving impromptu lectures about his craft to any poor soul unlucky enough to catch his eye.” Kitagawa smiled. “I do not envy them at all.”
Shinjiro grinned, extending his hand out. “Oh, you and I are going to get along just fine.” Kitagawa matched his smile with a sly one of his own and grabbed ahold of Shinjiro’s right hand with his left and gave it an enthusiastic shake.
Wonderful, they were already on his good side. Perfect.
They had made quiet small talk against the vacant wall of the showroom, after slowly slinking away from the crowd.
“I can’t believe no one recognized you, Kitagawa-san. You were in that crowd longer than us.” the boy let out a small hum, a smirk playing on his lips before quickly being wiped away by politer, and faker, smile. Shinjiro filed that away in his mind as did Minako.
“Ah, that's primarily why I wear such simple clothing, they make me more inconspicuous, wouldn't you agree? And no need for this ‘-san’ business. I’m still quite young.” The teenager laughed.
The boy was every bit as eccentric as Takamaki had described in the pamphlet, but not to the degree of snobbishness like the many other artists presenting tonight. He seemed to talk in paragraphs, using stanzas of flowery words to talk about the day to day ongoings of Tokyo, going off on multiple tangents before eventually redirecting himself to his main point. But despite his quirks, the boy was humble, polite and unintentionally witty, he was proud of his work but not overly prideful of it, and had an unmatched passion for art that made you want to listen to him go on about some unhinged rant about the pigments used in renaissance paintings or the delicate sculpting techniques used in the Hindu temples of Nepal.
They had yet to make any reference to the statues from before, but it was too early to push for answers right now. Get on Kitagawa’s good side then get the information they needed.
“Uh, Kitagawa-kun?”
“Yes, Ms. Yamagishi?”
“Uh, well I was just wondering why this painting didn’t have a nameplate?” Fuuka asked, pointing to the two lovers they had been looking at before.
Kitagawa turned his head to face the painting, surprise coloured his face as if seeing the painting for the first time. For a moment his gaze hardened, but eventually, his gray eyes softened. Kitagawa faced the three with a sad smile, melancholy painting his expression.
“Let me meet your question with one of my own. What do you think of the painting? Go on give me an honest opinion”
“Well,” Shinjiro began. “It kind of looks unfinished.”
Kitagawa gave him an appraising look before it settled into an impressed smile. “You’d be completely correct Aragaki-san. The painting is indeed incomplete” Yusuke let out a frustrated sigh before scowling. “They practically plundered my dorm for anything to fill this showroom. I had objected of course...but never mind.” Kitagawa sighed, shaking his head. “Still, I’m impressed you managed to figure out that it was incomplete. From what I’ve managed to eavesdrop, many of the other visitors thought it was a simple stylistic choice.”
Minako’s lips dropped into a worried frown. “Do you not like the gala, Kitagawa-kun?” Kitagawa grit his teeth, mouth twisting into a line as rigid as the maze of cables and catwalks above them
“That would be an understatement Ms. Arisato. In my honest opinion, this entire event is nothing but an utter disgrace to the arts. Just another petty show of wealth and peacocking. Just another museum of vanity that needs to be foreclosed... But I digress, you’re all probably wondering what the name of the painting is called right?” the two women nodded. “I make it a practice to name my works after I have completed them.” Kitagawa let out a small smile. “This, however, was a special case. It was never meant to be hung in a museum or shown to the public...” Kitagawa trailed off, losing himself in memory before shaking himself out of his despondency. “It was going to be a gift...” He said softly.
“ Johanna and her Theo. ” Kitagawa chuckled to himself like he told a funny joke. “I hope to complete it soon, no-” He said, shaking his head, causing his hair to bounce from side to side. “-I must complete it soon.” The artist vowed quietly, eyes turning stormy.
“Hmm, as in Theo and Johanna van Gogh?” Fuuka guessed. Kitagawa nodded his head yes, seemingly both amused and impressed yet again, a wide happy grin splitting his once dour expression.
“Not many would make that connection or know about Van Gogh-Bonger herself... well I suppose it is an odd title out of context I suppose.” Yusuke hummed to himself.
“Excuse me, Kitagawa-kun?” a meek voice cut through. An aide had crawled his way through the crowds of people and had approached Kitagawa nervously wringing his hands. “You’re on in ten minutes.” Yusuke just narrowed his eyes at the man before turning back to the group.
“I hadn't even noticed the time…” Yusuke sighed. “My apologies, but it seems we’ll have to put a pin in our conversation for now. A shame since the showroom will be closing soon afterwards...”
“Oh, no worries Kitagawa-kun. We were actually here for your speech as well.” Minako laughed politely.
The young artist’s eyes gleamed with joy. “If I may be so bold, would you all be able to meet up again tomorrow? It’s been a while since I’ve had such a spirited conversation.” Kitagawa asked, looking like a sad puppy.
Shinjiro frowned, cursing his luck. While the opportunity was golden and practically fell into their laps. He needed to be back at Tatsumi port tomorrow and talk with Mitsuru and Naoto about the Phantom Thieves investigation. Perhaps Kitagawa would be able to take a raincheck and they could reschedule their little meeting?
“Actually we-” Shinjiro began before being elbowed in his side by a very innocent looking Fuuka.
Minako gave a dazzling smile, pinching Shinjiro’s bruised kidney. “Of course! We’d be delighted!”
“Wonderful!” Kitagawa exclaimed, grinning widely. “I’ll meet with you all here again then to discuss?”
“Sounds good,” Shinjiro grunted, massaging his side.
After Kitagawa left, Shinjiro immediately rounded on the two girls.
“Oh don’t give me that look, Shinji. I’m not going to let this opportunity slip, in case you haven't forgotten we do need to get on his good side.” Minako chided.
“I think we’re well on his good side already,” Shinjiro huffed, remembering the iron grip and beaming smile the boy had when shaking their hands.
“Alright alright, let’s go get a good spot. I actually want to be able to see Kitagawa-kun speak.”
Moving back, rows of chairs had been set up around the empty space of the room’s center in a large semicircle. The trio took a set of seats in the middle row by the edge, just in case they needed to leave suddenly. Quickly the seats started to fill as journalists, critics and a wide assortment of museum-goers rushed to find a place to sit down. A white blob was present front and center.
The lights dimmed and Yusuke Kitagawa walked onto stage from the far left, a spotlight followed his movement while another was focused on a large canvas covered by a large tarp at center stage. Moving in front of the easel, Kitagawa bowed to the crowd.
Minako frowned again, the poor boy looked incredibly uncomfortable. Scratch that he looked pissed. But Kitagawa reigned his opinions in and raised his head giving a polite smile to the audience.
“My name is Yusuke Kitagawa, last pupil of Ichiryusai Madarame.” A hush fell over the gathered crowd, sudden flashes of cameras erupted from the wings as dozens of photographers honed in on the boy. Yusuke’s lips curled slightly downwards before he moved on. “All my life I had lived under the shadow of a giant, a titan that had guided me all my life. Madarame, adopted me so to speak. He was my legal guardian after my mother, one of his students, died. For that I felt indebted to the man, he introduced me to the world of art, he fed me, clothed me and taught me. I felt that I owed my former sensei everything. Madarame’s atelier was once filled with students, I grew up surrounded by artists…” Kitagawa paused, before continuing on. “As a child, I did not recognize the abuse that was occurring. To Madarame, we were nothing but livestock, nothing but unpaid cattle that he could rip our artwork from because he felt entitled as our master. I did not have an actual bed until I was fifteen.” Horrified gasps erupted from the audience, and Minako felt her heart break, remembering the god-awful orphanages that she and Minato were bounced between. “If we spoke out or demanded basic decency, the meagre scraps that we were given for dinner would be taken away.” Yusuke lowered his head in shame. “I am ashamed to admit that I blindly followed Madarame, sung his praises and eagerly allowed him to steal my art, like an obedient dog. But eventually, the numbers of students dwindled and I was the only one left.”
Yusuke raised his head, gazing at the audience with an intense look.
“To many, justice is seen as but a single act, a single definition of morally good actions.” Yusuke placed his arms behind his back and began to walk across the stage. “But that is simply not true. Justice is an ongoing process, it’s bettering the world around you. It is equity and equality, it is meeting the struggles our fellows face with both sympathy and empathy. It is being fair when accounting for every unique situation. No one group, no one individual is a total monolith, so how can we describe something like justice as a single definitive concept? How can we hope to solve the philosophical debates that thinkers like Socrates and the other great philosophers struggled with? Simple, we can’t. I believe that justice is an ideal that must both be lived out and striven for.”
Yusuke stopped at the far end of the stage, shoulders sagging as the spotlight stalled on him.
“Justice is truth in action,” Yusuke said simply. “When the truth of Madarame was revealed. I felt empty and conflicted. On one hand, both my eyes and the world’s were finally open to the truth, on the other I lost the man I respected as a father. But I know that justice was served, no matter how complicated my feelings about my former master are, I will always have faith in the justice I believe in.”
He walked over to the covered canvas and placed a hand on the white cloth.
“Human beings are beings of desire, I have said this multiple times. Desires can be good...and they can be bad. But we are also more than our desires, we are complicated. Within darkness there is light, and within the malicious desires of humanity there is also hope.” With an elegant tug of the hand, the cloth covering the canvas fell.
A large radiant light, bursting forth from a sea of darkness. Like a rising sun of rainbow fire chasing away the empty night.
“This is the culmination of my own internal journey. I lost my passion after Madarame was convicted. My idea and concept of artistry was tainted. I became jaded and confused. But I had someone help me not only recover my passion but redefine it. I do not walk this path alone anymore, my bonds with my friends and my conviction drives and inspires my art now. This is ‘ Desire and Hope ’ my very pride as an independent artist. It is a reflection of the duality of human nature. And I hope that it can inspire those that are lost to their own darkness. Because that is my justice. As artists this is our vocation, to inspire the best within ourselves and others through our art. I hope that one day we can live in a world of true justice, but until that day I humbly ask that you join me in trying to make a better world. Thank you.”
Yusuke bowed again as the crowd applauded, quietly walking off the stage, head raised high and eyes gleaming in confidence.
Shinjiro let out an impressed whistle. “The kid has a way with words.”
Fifteen minutes later the three managed to meet up with Kitagawa again by Johanna and her Theo .
“My apologies for the delay,” Yusuke smiled earnestly. “A true pity that we cannot keep conversing here.”
The gallery showing was closing as midnight approached. And they’d be ushered out of the gala by twelve.
“Here’s my contact information!” Kitagawa chirped, handing Minako a piece of paper with a hastily scrawled phone number and email, below the two lines was an address. “If you’re familiar with the area, there’s a cafe in Yongen Jaya that I frequent. It’s in the back alleys and quiet. The perfect place for a nice conversation.”
‘ Cafe Leblanc ’ Sojiro Sakura’s cafe, Ren’s temporary guardian in Tokyo… Shinjiro narrowed his eyes. This was too perfect to be a coincidence. His companions also stiffened beside him.
Kitagawa’s smile was markedly foxy.
“What time works best for you?” Yusuke asked.
“Somewhere around three? three-thirty?” Fuuka smiled, eyes scrunching up.
Ping~Ping~!
“Ah sorry, that’s mine.” Kitagawa apologized before pulling out his phone and sending a quick text. “Well, I suppose this is where we must part. See you all tomorrow at three.” Kitagawa bowed his head slightly before turning on his heel and marched disappearing into the gallery.
“Welp, we should leave too.” Minako shrugged and made their way out of the showroom.
Yusuke watched the three adults leave from the corner of his eyes. Making sure no one was around he pulled out his phone again.
“I assume you got what you needed, Oracle?”
“Mhmm, good thing they weren’t turned off by your weirdness Inari. They actually listened to you talk for over an hour!”
He hoped Futaba could feel his eyeroll through the phone.
“Well, unlike some people they have an appreciation for the arts.”
“Yeah, yeah. Still good job on spotting Lucia and her entourage earlier.”
“Were you able to get into Ms. Yamagishi’s phone?”
Futaba scoffed. “Fox, Lucia is probably the best hacker in Japan.” Yusuke was actually surprised at the admission, Futaba was never one to concede her self-proclaimed title as Japan’s number one. “Oh shut up, I can feel your shock from here. I’m not that arrogant.”
“...”
“Shut up Inari!”
“I didn’t say anything…”
“You were thinking it!”
Yusuke sighed. “So what did you manage to do then?”
“I hacked into Aragaki’s phone. Arisato’s phone was just as encrypted as Lucia’s. Seems that Mr. Chef didn’t update his phone Mwehehe…”
Yusuke groaned as Futaba delved into another techno jargon filled explanation of how she managed to hack into Aragaki-san’s phone. He’d feel bad if not for the fact that Yusuke knew that they were trying to use him as an in to get more information about Madarame and the Phantom Thieves.
Creating the statues of the Personas was an absolute pain and putting them up for display went against his principles as an artist, but worth it in the end. He had originally planned to have them featured in the gala and then have photos put on the Museum website or Twitter to try and attract these so-called “Shadow Operatives”. How nice of Ren’s “family” to have personally dropped by though.
Yusuke hummed, shifting his weight to his right leg as he leaned back against the bare wall, shifting the phone closer to his ear. He had been tailing them the moment they entered the gala and quietly observing them. Their reactions to the statues also indicated that they recognized them. Yoshie was going on and on about some celebrity chef he had hired when he mentioned that it was Shinjiro Aragaki and that he gave the chef tickets to the gala Yusuke nearly spat out his sparkling cider and immediately texted the group chat.
Makoto, now serving as their de-facto leader, had asked (ordered) him to follow and observe Aragaki. He had ended up stalking them into the statue gallery, using all of his experience as a Phantom Thief to remain hidden.
Perhaps the reason why they responded to the statues was that he had repurposed some old gear made of the itemized Personas Ren had used. The Seth statue had the sawed pieces of an A.R embedded within it, making up the dragon’s ear wings and tail spikes. Ren said he had created it using Seth, how he could transform a dragon into a gun was beyond him, even after being in the velvet room his head still spun whenever he tried to make sense of ‘fusion’.
The weapons that Ren had made with his Personas always felt stronger and more real than any of the replicas they bought, and if they focused they could feel the mask within, still alive and kicking. Yusuke remembered the first time he wielded Usumidori, Yoshitsune’s power was like a raging river and nearly intoxicating. The fact that Ren could be exposed to such presences for so long and not snap was a testament to his self-control. He had been in feverish trance when making the statues, the world blending away as his sole focus and attention went towards the personas. Ann and Ryuji had to physically restrain him and force him to eat after nearly 3 days of reclusion.
“-So basically I just used Lucia’s own tech against her… Hey! Are you even listening anymore you stupid fox?!” Oh right, Futaba was still speaking to him.
“Yes, yes.”
“Ugh, whatever. Just go home and get some sleep Inari. You have to be at Leblanc tomorrow. Seriously, offering to meet up so soon?”
“We couldn’t afford to lose their trail Oracle.”
“Yeah yeah. See you tomorrow Inari.”
“Hmph, gremlin.”
“HISSSS”
And with a soft beep, Futaba hung up the phone. Rolling his eyes Yusuke pocketed his phone and left to grab his things.
As he was walking to the station he got an idea. Perhaps he could use this opportunity to clear up some space in his dorms…
-
“Welcome to Leblanc.” A bearded man greeted curtly. Sojiro Sakura. Minako wanted to lunge at him, shake him down and demand where Ren was. But she forced herself to remain calm.
“Ms. Arisato here!” Yusuke waved from his spot at the counter, fingers wrapped around a steaming mug.
Minako returned the boy’s greeting with an enthusiastic one of her own. “Hello Kitagawa-kun.”
“I’m glad all three of you could all make it.” Yusuke smiled.
Taking their seats at the counter by Yusuke, Fuuka noted the cozy atmosphere of the cafe. She had read some reviews online, almost all of them were positive, praising the cafe’s coffee and curry. Leblanc was mostly empty, the only people that were here were Kitagawa, Minako, Shinjiro, herself, the cafe’s surly looking barista and an orange haired girl dutifully typing away at her laptop with her headphones in.
“What do you recommend Kitagawa-kun?” Minako asked. “I’m not quite experienced with coffee myself…”
“Since it’s your first visit, I’d recommend getting the house blend.”
Shinjiro shrugged coffee’s coffee. “Sounds good.” Fuuka nodded yes as well. Turning his head to the side Shinjro faced the older man behind the bar.
“Alright, we’ll take three house blends then, place them all on my bill please.” The bearded man just nodded.
“I’ll take another cup of crystal mountain Boss.” ‘Boss’ raised his eyebrow.
“Let me guess, put it on your tab?” Yusuke just nodded shamelessly.
“And a plate of whatever’s on the stove as well.” Boss just sighed.
“Yusuke, I could probably buy a second house with how much you owe me…” The man said testily.
Yusuke for his part just laughed, causing the older man in front of him to drop his frown and adopt a quick smirk. “Come now boss, I feel like all the art I’ve donated pays some of it.” Yusuke smiled, gesturing to the paintings adorning Cafe Leblanc’s walls.
“Tch, cheeky brat.” Sojiro smirked, before returning his gaze to the three adults. “Would you three care for something to eat as well?”
“I strongly recommend it,” Yusuke began. “Boss’ curry is divine and specifically made to be enjoyed with his coffee.”
Oh? Coffee and Curry? not completely unheard of but it piqued Shinjiro’s interest enough to at least try it. Plus it was Mitsuru’s money anyways…
“Sure, I’ll get a plate too.” Shinjiro ordered. “You two want one?” he asked, turning to his female companions.
Minako nodded. “I could eat.”
Fuuka snorted. “I’ll bet…”
“Hey!”
“I’ll take a plate too sir.”
“Sure thing. Oh and none of this “sir” nonsense, I'm not that old.” He gave a pointed look to Yusuke who shut his mouth quickly. “I’m Sojiro Sakura by the way.”
“It's a pleasure to meet you Sakura-san.” Fuuka said politely.
The man waved a lazy hand. “Ah, just call me boss. Everyone else does.”
Sojiro retreated into the back to prepare their orders. In between their chat with Kitagawa, the orange haired girl had left, packing up her laptop and going up the stairs to what Fuuka believed to be the cafe attic.
Instantly the smell of warm coffee and spice invaded her nose as Sojiro placed a mug and plate in front of her. Drooling she went for her spoon and took a bite of the curry, nearly falling over at the unexpected deliciousness.
If Shinjiro were a lesser man he would have moaned out loud at the taste. Dammit his pride as a chef was being wounded here, but it was so damn good.
“This is delicious!” Minako said after swallowing her bites.
“Heh, thanks.” Sojiro seemed exceptionally proud of himself. “I’ll just be in the back, call me if you need anything else, ma’am.”
“Kitagawa-kun you were right.” Fuuka practically sang. “This is the best cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted.”
Yusuke nodded along, wolfing down his plate alongside them.
The orange haired girl had long since left, and Boss had disappeared into a storeroom grumbling about restocking and lazy deliverymen.
After they had finished their meal, they continued on making more small talk before Kitagwa suddenly turned the nature of the conversation more serious.
“Let’s get down to business then? You three want information about Madarame, yes?”
Minako sputtered into her coffee. “I- We-.”
Yusuke just chuckled. “I wondered why you all seemed so eager to converse at the gala, and the fact that I felt like I was being watched keenly in the showroom as well…”
Fuuka let out a nervous chuckle. “Kitagawa-kun-”
“Ms. Yamagishi, please I mean no harm, nor am I offended. You’re all far more amicable than the Tokyo PD. You’re clearly not affiliated with them… Are you with public security then? Or perhaps with the government?” Kitagawa mused, placing a finger to his chin and calmly sipping his coffee. Shinjiro for his part was trying to remain calm, because how the hell?
At their surprised faces, Yusuke just laughed again. “I’ve done a lot of people watching. Police officers and anyone working in law enforcement have a certain...aura about them a certain way they carry themselves so to speak. You and Ms. Arisato, walk the same way, Mr. Aragaki. Ms. Yamagishi though… I can’t seem to decipher”
Shinjiro narrowed his eyes at the younger boy. “What do you want then Kitagawa?”
Yusuke was unperturbed. “You’re investigating the Phantom Thieves are you not?”
“How did you…?”
“You aren’t the first investigators to approach me.” Yusuke scoffed. “I propose a deal, all the information I have on Madarame, his change of heart and my first-hand account of what happened during and after his calling card.” Minako frowned...this was basically everything that they wanted from him.
“In exchange?”
Yusuke turned a grim expression onto the woman. “A favour... I have a vested interest in keeping the T.P.D. far away from me. I assume that you all have some considerable clout, considering how you hold yourselves, enough that your affiliation will deter a specific kind of people away from me and my associates…”
The operatives looked at each other, Shinjiro decided to bite the bullet and nodded, reaching out his hand. “You have a deal, kid.”
Yusuke smiled and shook hands with Shinjiro. “Splendid.” Yusuke reached into his breast pocket and brought out a teal flash drive. “Here’s my first part of our bargain. Some notes and my own observations from when Madarame got his calling card. His behaviour was erratic, to say the least. I kept a log of what happened in case I ever needed to report anything if something were to...happen.”
Fuuka gingerly took the USB out of Yusuke’s hands.
“I hope our deal doesn't put a damper on things. I’d hate to lose new friends so soon.”
Minako giggled. “Of course not. Truth be told, I'm kinda happy that we were able, to be honest about it.”
Kitagawa grinned.
Shinjiro just rolled his eyes as Fuuka hid her laugh behind her hand.
They stayed for another hour, buying another round of coffee and chatting with both Yusuke and Sojiro, the latter was far more outgoing than what his churlish disposition may suggest. Though Minako did not talk much with the man and left it to Shinjiro and Fuuka.
Vowing to stay in touch, both for the sake of their newfound friendship and their deal, the operatives waved Kitagawa goodbye.
Minako has one foot out the door before she’s stopped by Yusuke's hand on her shoulder.
“Ms. Aristo before you go here.” Kitagawa handed her a brown paper portfolio with two fabric handles. Opening it up she saw that it was painting.
A large golden mask with two gleaming red eyes, peering out from a column of blue flame. Her own eyes catch the shadowy form of six demonic wings and a pair of outstretched arms resting at the figure’s hipline within the balefire.
“Lucifer?” she says on instinct.
Yusuke just laughs, a manic and crazed burst of joy, grinning from ear to ear. “Close.”
Minako looks up at Yusuke again and sees Odin staring back.