Into the Metaverse

It had not gone better this time.

Their oversight, thought Haruto, as he stumbled back into the lab, was that they couldn't communicate across the dimensions. That would have made the whole thing a lot easier.

"Haruto!" cried Wakaba, rushing to his side the moment he appeared. "Are you alright?"

"Your trackers not tell you?" he chuckled grimly.

"Of course," she said sharply. "It was an emotional question, not a physical one, you silly boy."

"I'm fine," said Haruto, forcing himself upright. "I'm used to it now."

"It seemed rough in there, going by your brainwaves," said Wakaba, glancing back at her computer. "Seems the next thing I need to develop is a way to keep in contact with you while you're in there."

"Could you build a mic into these?" asked Haruto, unstrapping the wrist braces and handing them to her.

"It's an idea," said Wakaba, taking them. "You'd need an earpiece to hear me too… I'd need to be careful though. He can't realise I'm actually working with this, or he'll wonder why…"

"How is it you have the lab free at all?" asked Haruto.

It had been nagging at him ever since he got inside—he'd already checked to make sure Wakaba's allegations about harassment were true, and it was perfectly obvious they were, after some close reading and a little time in Shido's Palace, but…

"It's complicated," said Wakaba, with a grim smile. "Suffice it to say you aren't the only one who's had to do unsavoury things to get ahead, Haruto."

"So you been using that time to develop the bracers?"

Wakaba sighed, setting them down on the table. "At first I tried to get in myself—I just wanted something—anything, but… I couldn't seem to manage it. Part of me was afraid I'd already revealed too much-that if he saw me in there somehow it would all be over. It wasn't long after that I worked out what you were doing. So I decided to develop something more… auxiliary instead."

"Right," said Haruto.

He couldn't see Wakaba's face from where he stood, but he had a feeling he didn't want to.

"But you're right," she said, pushing herself upright. "We need to be able to communicate while you're in there if I'm to be of any use at all. Come back next Friday, and we'll review our progress then."

"Okay," he said.

That was fine. It wasn't like Wakaba was in any immediate danger, after all—she'd managed to hold out this long. And he had other things he needed to see to.

"Now then, let's get all this stuff back away," she muttered, beginning to clear away the vast reams of machinery.

The effects of the Metaverse on his system were already beginning to sink in as he stumbled back to the café that evening. Being able to get genuinely injured in the Metaverse was a whole lot more horrifying than he'd first realised—he was good at avoiding being seen by now—goodness knows he had enough practice, but he'd never really felt… afraid of being spotted before. But he did now. And that was somehow more tiring than everything else he'd done combined.

Luckily for us, the normal Metaverse is still normal.

Arsène had a point. And they still had business in the normal Metaverse too.

We have three targets lined up, said Arsène. No Palaces, just idiots who need to be bashed about a bit.

"Well, we'll see about that," Haruto replied, making sure the door was properly locked behind him. "I'm not sure some of them deserve to get off so easily."

Point taken, said Arsène. There's that manager abusing idols… 

"Yep. He's totally dead."

I approve.

"You always do."

Haruto's phone pinged in his pocket. What was it now?

He fished it out and glanced at the lock-screen.

Sakura Futaba: Hey, stop talking to your imaginary friend, wacko.

He really needed to work out how to disable those fucking bugs.

Sakura Futaba: Don't even think about messing up my hard work! 

Sakura Futaba: Do you know how hard it is to set those things up?

Haruto begrudgingly unlocked the screen to reply.

Namikaze Haruto: Who says I'm doing anything?

Sakura Futaba: I know you, dumbass, you'll take the first opportunity to sabotage me!

Namikaze Haruto: I live here. Aren't I entitled to some privacy?

Sakura Futaba: No.

Namikaze Haruto: :( :( :(

Sakura Futaba: Don't make that face!

Namikaze Haruto: :( :( :( :( :( :( :(

Sakura Futaba: Listen, they're there to keep an eye on Sojiro, not you—just go upstairs and make your grand murder plots up there.

Sakura Futaba: Who are u planning to kill btw? Is it your teacher? Please say it is.

Namikaze Haruto: It's haremfucker69. My mortal nemesis in Blue Dead Demonisation.

Sakura Futaba: Lmao I thought they introduced a profanity filter into that game! 

Namikaze Haruto: Well if they have, they've done a piss-poor job of it, haven't they? Now if you'll excuse me, I need to bully a thirteen-year-old. 

Sakura Futaba: They grow up so fast… 

Namikaze Haruto: Have fun listening into an empty café, creeper.

Sakura Futaba: Oh, I will.

With that he stuffed his phone into his pocket and hurried up to the relative sanctuary of his bedroom.

I always forget she has bugs down there, said Arsène, mournfully.

"Of course you do, we're the same person," muttered Haruto.

Occasionally he got paranoid enough to do an intensive check to make sure she hadn't put any bugs in his actual bedroom, but fortunately it seemed that was one line Futaba wasn't willing to cross-which meant he could have his conversations out loud and in peace.

"Now then, three targets and…"

One last one. You need to check to make sure he has a Palace. 

"Oh, I'm fairly sure he does."

Well then, let's find out, shall we? 

***

Monday 25th April

The three targets Haruto had outlined before had not been troubling to deal with, and now they wouldn't be troubling anyone else either. What was troubling though, was the persistent lack of any sign or sound from the Metaverse interloper, whoever it was. In fact, there'd been so little evidence of anyone else in the Metaverse that Haruto was beginning to think that monster that resided in the depths had just been messing with him.

Maybe they're dead? Arsène helpfully suggested as Haruto grabbed his bag off the table in preparation to go.

God I hope so. Save us some trouble. 

I have a feeling we would not be so fortunate. 

So do I, Haruto grumbled internally, before a voice from below shattered his train of thought.

"Hey, Haruto, you're gonna miss the train!" Futaba yelled up the stairs.

"I'm coming!" he called back, hurrying down them two at a time.

"Finally," she said, rolling her eyes as he appeared at the bottom. "I thought you might have decided to take the day off."

"What, and have Sojiro breathing down my neck all day? I'm not stupid."

Futaba snorted. "If you say so."

Speaking of the which, Sojiro chose that moment to push the café door open.

"Are you kids still here?" he asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "You'll be late for the train."

"That's what I was just saying!" said Futaba, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him in the direction of the door. "Come on, let's go!"

"Okay, okay," said Haruto, hurrying outside with her. "What's all the rush anyway?"

"I don't want my homeroom teacher to get all huffy 'cause I was late again," said Futaba, sulkily. "She already hates me because I'm friends with you."

"None of those teachers should have a thing against me," Haruto protested. "I'm a model student!"

"Yeah, but a criminal record's a criminal record, buddy," said Futaba, "Guess stigma ain't that easy to shrug off."

Haruto rolled his eyes. "That's not my problem."

"Yeah, but it is my problem-so hurry up slow-coach!"

***

Fortunately they weren't actually late to school, and Haruto still had about ten minutes before class officially started. Which was good, because he needed ten minutes.

He quickly hurried towards his classroom, pushing open the door to reveal that luck was finally on his side today.

Yusuke was there, sitting in his usual seat behind Haruto, next to the window.

"Ah, Haruto," said Yusuke, smiling at him as he approached. That was unusual. Yusuke wasn't generally much of a smiler. "I was worried you might be late again today."

"I'm not always late," Haruto protested, sliding into his seat, then turning it to face Yusuke. "Besides, you're hardly one to talk."

"My lateness is purely in service of my artistic spirit," said Yusuke, turning his nose up.

"Oh yeah? I guess the vending machines have nothing to do with it, huh?"

"You never know when someone might have left something in the bottom," said Yusuke, deadly serious. "It's important to check, Haruto. Practically my civic duty."

"Is it also your civic duty to eat what you find people have left in the vending machines?"

"Well how else will they learn if they aren't punished?"

Haruto chuckled, but it was forced. Kind of had to be, now he knew… "Couldn't you just ask Madarame for more money?"

"Ah," said Yusuke, suddenly reluctant to meet his eyes. "Sensei is very poor, you know that, Haruto. It's part of the lifestyle he lives."

"Right," said Haruto.

That was Yusuke's response every time. 'Sensei is poor', 'He's providing accommodation for me and that's enough', 'It's selfish to ask for more'.

It probably wouldn't bug him so much if he didn't recognise the rhetoric from the very same excuses he'd used about his own substandard parents. But he'd known what they were from the start—that was the difference. He just didn't want people poking about in his private life, worrying about him. Yusuke, on the other hand… he seemed to genuinely believe what he was saying. And now he knew Madarame had a Palace… it was only that much more troubling.

The fact Yusuke seemed particularly cheerful didn't bode well either, albeit, for a different reason…

"Alright class settle down," grumbled Mr Murakami as he strolled in. "It's class time now."

Haruto needed to talk to him at lunch. There had seemed to be something stirring for a while now in his manner, and though he seemed happy enough at the moment… Haruto had a feeling it wouldn't be too long until all hell broke loose.

***

Yusuke was still in relatively high-spirits by the time lunch rolled around. It was enough of a change from his usual dour demeanour that Haruto felt he really ought to ask about it.

"Did something good happen this weekend?" he asked, sitting down next to Yusuke, near the vending machines.

"Madarame is pleased with how my work is progressing," said Yusuke, sipping his tea. "Your help has been invaluable, Haruto, so I thank you."

Madarame again. If he was pleased, that meant he wasn't hurting Yusuke at least, so that was something but… how long would it last? He'd been so melancholy when they first met…

"There's no need for that," said Haruto. "I've said it before, I'll say it again: I'm always happy to help a friend."

And it was important Yusuke knew Haruto considered him a friend—if things went as bad as Haruto suspected they could, he needed to make sure Yusuke understood where they were. Haruto could extend all the offers of help in the world, but it wouldn't work if Yusuke didn't trust him. He was the one he was trying to assist by looking into this, after all.

"A… friend?" said Yusuke, quietly. He seemed almost… distressed by the suggestion. "Is that how you think of me, Haruto?"

"Yes—is there something wrong with that?"

He suspected he already knew what was going through Yusuke's head: that he'd never had friends, that no one seemed to like him, so why would Haruto of all people consider him a friend? It wasn't fair, of course—Yusuke had done nothing wrong—probably still didn't fully understand why he was so isolated, why his relationship with Madarame went through such consuming ups and downs he could barely focus on anything else but… he would understand eventually. Once Madarame was safely out of the way.

"No," Yusuke murmured, finally putting himself together enough to speak, "it's just… No one's ever really… What with my art and everything I…"

"It's okay," said Haruto. "I understand what you're getting at."

And he did. Even though it hurt like a blade to his heart every time.

Yusuke gave a short chuckle, trying to hide his former distress, then straightened up again. "Ah, you're a good friend, Haruto. You always seem to know just what to say to get me out of my slumps."

"Well, knowing what to say is a prodigious talent of mine," said Haruto, grinning at him.

The tension had straightened out again. For now, anyway.

Yusuke smiled back before growing suddenly serious again. "You know, if it isn't too much trouble, could I ask you to look over some of my artwork yourself this afternoon? I feel I would benefit from your opinion on it."

"Sure thing," said Haruto.

Fortunately Futaba had been mostly sated by the attention he'd given her last week, so he wouldn't have to worry about her complaining about it for a while. Wait… today was a Monday though, wasn't it? Curse his hellish schedule.

"I'll have to leave at six though," he said sheepishly, "that's when my shift starts."

"Oh yes, you have many part-time jobs, don't you, Haruto?" said Yusuke, sounding a little surprised. "Are you sure it's wise to work so much with your arm still…?"

"It's almost fully healed now," said Haruto, which was perfectly true. "Don't worry, I'll be there to look at your paintings."

"I look forward to it," said Yusuke, flashing him one last smile before heading back to class.

***

Madarame was as absent as usual when Yusuke guided him back to the huge shack where they resided. But for once, Haruto's mind was not focused on Madarame. No. Right now it was focused on the picture Yusuke had decided to show him. The picture he'd asked him to model for when they first met.

"Well it's… certainly dramatic," he managed to croak.

The word he really wanted to use was 'unnerving'. Yusuke had asked to use him as a model, but Haruto hadn't exactly had a good view of the canvas while Yusuke was painting, and now… now there was this.

Yusuke's painting was of an ominous scene; a sunset over a blackened plain, and at the peak of it—the centre of the piece—stood a tall, cloaked figure, with piercing red eyes. It was him. But it wasn't the version of himself he generally showed to Yusuke. In fact, it was a very specific version—one he would have recognised no matter in what context he'd seen it. This was strange. Very strange.

"How did you arrive at the theme?" he wondered, leaning a little closer to the picture.

"I'm not sure," said Yusuke, watching him from the corner. "When we first met I was simply struck very powerfully with a vision of a figure like the one you see in the painting—so of course, I knew I had to enlist your help to bring it to life."

"Should such a figure be brought to life?" Haruto wondered.

"Ah, perhaps you are right," Yusuke chuckled. "He does look quite ominous, doesn't he? But I think there's a certain air of triumph about him."

There was certainly an air of something about him, that was for sure. Death and destruction, if you asked Haruto. Maybe this was what people were complaining about when they said he looked too intense…

"He's… certainly unyielding," he said.

"I'm glad you agree," said Yusuke, smiling.

Yusuke certainly didn't seem on the verge of accusing him of being a trans-dimensional murderer, so that was something, but still… the figure in the picture looked so similar to his outfit in the Metaverse he couldn't help but wonder…

If he has been to the Metaverse, then it is purely by accident, said Arsène. He would surely have confronted you by now if it was otherwise.

He had a point. It wasn't like Yusuke had any reason to shield him, like Wakaba did, after all.

"I was meaning to ask," said Haruto, eager to get away from the strange picture as a topic of conversation as soon as possible, "your mentor's having an exhibition soon, isn't he? Do you know when it'll be?"

"Oh, are you taking an interest?" asked Yusuke, looking pleased. "I didn't know you had a genuine appreciation of the arts, Haruto."

He felt slightly bad deceiving Yusuke in this way—well, if deceiving was the right word, it wasn't like he disliked art—but his true reason for wanting to go had little to do with aesthetics. Madarame would be at the exhibition—there was no doubt about it—and Haruto needed to meet him in-person. It was a number of things; establishing more clearly how he saw Yusuke, testing how good his personable mask was, and most importantly—making sure Madarame remembered his face. He had to know who Haruto was for the threat of brainwashing to be most effective, after all.

He could do it without seeing his victims in-person, of course, but it was just such a hassle when the man was right there.

"Well, I can't say I don't enjoy a walk around a gallery," said Haruto, with a smirk, "and besides, I thought we could go together when it opens."

"Oh!" said Yusuke, his eyes widening. "Well, if that's what you want I could hardly refuse. Of course I will take you!"

"You… still haven't told me when it is."

Not too long, with any luck.

"Ah, yes," said Yusuke, closing one eye in embarrassment. "It begins on Saturday the 14th of May, I believe."

"Then I'll be happy to come."

Providing nothing went wrong in the interim, of course.