Madarame sat behind the microphones with his head lowered.
Camera shutters went off around him.
Reporters shouted questions from every direction, but he didn't answer any of them.
For nearly ten seconds, he didn't move at all.
Then he raised his head.
"I have committed crimes unbecoming of an artist."
The entire plaza went quiet.
Madarame's voice trembled through the speakers.
"To put it plainly... I plagiarized the work of my pupils. I took the art they created and presented it to the world beneath my own name."
The reporters immediately erupted.
"Are the Phantom Thieves' accusations true?!"
"How many works did you steal?!"
"Is this related to the Calling Card?!"
"What about the Sayuri?!"
Madarame flinched at the name.
His hands tightened against the table.
"The Sayuri was not my work."
Yusuke stopped breathing.
Ren glanced toward him.
Everyone else was staring at the screen.
Ren wasn't.
He watched Yusuke.
"The painting was created by a young artist who had been placed under my care," Madarame continued. "I took it from her. I altered the painting and claimed it as my own."
Yusuke's face didn't change.
But his hands were shaking.
Ann noticed and moved closer to him. She didn't touch him or say anything.
She was just there.
Madarame lowered his head again.
"I did more than steal their work."
His voice cracked.
"I abused the pupils placed in my care."
The crowd began whispering.
"I controlled them through fear, debt and the promise that I would one day help them enter the art world. I forced them to continue producing work for me and threatened those who resisted."
Madarame's breathing became uneven.
"I ruined careers. I destroyed reputations. When a pupil could no longer create something useful to me, I abandoned them."
One of the reporters stood.
"Are you admitting that you knowingly abused your students?"
"Yes."
The answer came immediately.
No excuse.
No attempt to soften it.
No talk about difficult teaching methods or misunderstood artistic passion.
Just yes.
"I took young artists who trusted me and treated them as tools. Some lost everything because of me. Others were driven into despair."
Madarame's shoulders began to shake.
"I knew what I was doing. I understood the pain I caused them, and I continued because their talent brought me praise."
Someone in the crowd swore.
Another person began recording the screen with their phone.
Madarame looked directly into the cameras.
"I believed their talent belonged to me. I believed that providing them with food and shelter entitled me to their work, their obedience and their lives."
Yusuke closed his eyes.
Ren felt something cold settle in his chest.
That had been the center of Madarame's distortion.
He had done the bare minimum expected of a guardian, then convinced Yusuke that it was an unpayable debt.
Madarame bowed until his forehead nearly touched the table.
"There is no excuse for what I have done."
The reporters shouted over one another.
"Why are you confessing now?!"
"Did the Phantom Thieves threaten you?"
"Where are the stolen paintings?"
"Will you surrender yourself to the police?"
Madarame remained bowed.
"I intend to cooperate with the authorities and return every work I stole. I will accept whatever punishment is given to me."
His voice dropped.
"I know that an apology cannot restore the years I took from my pupils."
The cameras continued flashing.
"I cannot ask them to forgive me."
For a moment, Madarame said nothing.
Then he forced the words out.
"But I am sorry."
The screen returned to the news anchor as reporters continued yelling in the background.
Nobody in the group moved.
The crowd around them exploded into conversation.
Some people thought it was a publicity stunt.
Others immediately began searching for information about Madarame's former pupils.
One man nearby was already loudly claiming that he had never trusted Madarame, despite having spent the last ten minutes explaining that the Calling Card was obviously a hoax.
None of that mattered.
Madarame had confessed.
Not only to stealing artwork.
Not only to lying about the Sayuri.
He admitted that he had abused the people who trusted him.
In public.
On camera.
There was no taking that back.
Yusuke opened his eyes.
"He said it."
Ren nodded.
"Yeah."
"He truly admitted it."
"Yeah."
Yusuke stared at the screen.
Ren waited.
"I thought hearing him confess would make me happy," Yusuke finally said.
"It doesn't?"
"I do not know."
Fair.
Relief, anger and grief were probably beating the shit out of each other inside Yusuke's head right now.
He didn't need to pick one.
"You don't have to know yet."
Yusuke looked toward him.
Then gave a small nod.
"Thank you."
"You were there too."
"Nevertheless."
Ren smiled faintly.
"You're welcome."
Beside them, Ryuji was trembling.
Not emotionally.
Well, probably emotionally.
But mostly because he was visibly trying not to explode.
His hands were clenched at his sides, and he had the widest grin Ren had ever seen on another human being.
Ren narrowed his eyes.
"Don't."
Ryuji looked offended.
"I didn't even do anything!"
"You're about to."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are."
Ann looked between them.
"What is he about to—"
Ryuji threw one fist into the air.
"WE FUCKING—MMMPH!"
Ren's hand covered his mouth before he could finish.
Every member of the group froze.
Several people nearby glanced toward them.
Ren smiled politely.
"Excited about justice."
The strangers slowly looked away.
Ryuji struggled against him.
"MMMPH! MMMMMMF!"
"No."
Ren wrapped his other arm around Ryuji's shoulders and began dragging him toward the station.
Ryuji dug his heels into the pavement.
It did absolutely nothing.
"Celebrate after we're somewhere that isn't covered in cameras."
Morgana poked his head out of Ren's bag.
"Good call."
To everyone else, the cat meowed.
Shiho covered her mouth, desperately trying not to laugh.
Ann wasn't trying nearly as hard.
"You knew exactly what he was going to do."
"I've met Ryuji."
"MMPH!"
"That isn't helping your case."
Orihime was bouncing slightly beside them, both hands held over her mouth to keep herself quiet.
Ren looked at her.
She raised one fist.
Ren nodded solemnly.
Acceptable.
Ann and Shiho exchanged a quick fist bump.
Morgana lifted one paw from the bag.
Even Yusuke smiled.
It was small.
Barely there.
But it was real.
They had done it.
They entered a distorted world inside Madarame's heart, fought living pieces of human cognition, stole a painting that had turned into a giant golden nightmare and somehow made it back alive.
And it had worked.
Ren raised his free hand.
The others bumped their fists against his one after another as they walked.
Silently.
Mostly because Ryuji was still muffled.
"MMMMMPH!"
"Almost there."
---
Akechi watched the group disappear into the crowd.
The blond boy was still struggling beneath the black-haired one's arm.
A strange group.
But Shibuya was full of strange people.
He turned his attention back toward the screen.
Madarame's confession was already being replayed.
Another Calling Card.
Another sudden confession.
Kamoshida had confessed shortly after a message appeared on Shujin Academy's website.
Now Madarame had done the same after an enormous Calling Card appeared across the front of his exhibit.
The connection was obvious.
The method wasn't.
Akechi pulled out his phone and opened one of the pictures taken that morning.
The banner covered several stories of the building.
It had been properly secured from the roof, not simply dropped over the side. Whoever had placed it knew what they were doing.
That was the part bothering him.
The roof access had been locked.
None of the nearby cameras had recorded anyone climbing the building.
No witnesses reported seeing a crane or any other equipment large enough to raise the banner.
Something that size would have taken several people to mount.
Yet nobody had seen anything.
Akechi furrowed his brow.
"I still don't understand how they mounted that Calling Card."
It wasn't impossible.
He disliked calling things impossible.
There was always an explanation.
He simply hadn't found it yet.
Akechi studied the photograph for another moment before locking his phone.
"How curious."
---
Makoto stood nearby.
She had come to watch the press conference because nearly everyone at school had been talking about it.
That was the explanation she had given herself, anyway.
It had nothing to do with the principal asking her to pay attention to suspicious students.
Nothing at all.
She had heard Akechi's quiet comment.
Now that he mentioned it, the Calling Card didn't make sense.
The banner was enormous.
Hanging something like that unnoticed in the middle of Tokyo should have been nearly impossible.
Yet someone had done it.
Makoto looked toward the station.
Amamiya and Sakamoto were already disappearing down the stairs with the others.
Takamaki.
Suzui.
Inoue.
Kitagawa.
All of them had been standing together.
Watching Madarame confess.
Sakamoto had nearly shouted something before Amamiya stopped him.
That didn't prove anything.
They could simply have been happy that Madarame's crimes were exposed.
Kitagawa had been one of his pupils. It would make sense for his friends to support him.
Completely reasonable.
Except Amamiya, Sakamoto, Takamaki and Suzui had also been at the center of the Kamoshida incident.
Now they were close to Kitagawa when Madarame suddenly confessed.
Two Calling Cards.
Two abusive men.
Two impossible changes of heart.
Makoto frowned.
Was she seriously considering this?
Amamiya was a student.
A strange student who talked to his cat, kept disappearing with the same group of people and had somehow caught a piece of chalk without looking.
But still a student.
Could they really be the Phantom Thieves?
And if they were...
What was she supposed to do about it?
The Phantom Thieves were breaking the law.
Probably.
Nobody seemed to understand what they were actually doing.
But Kamoshida had confessed because of them.
Now Madarame had publicly admitted to plagiarism and years of abuse.
Adults had known something was wrong in both cases.
Nobody had stopped them.
The Phantom Thieves had.
That didn't make their methods safe.
It didn't make them legal.
But could she honestly say that what they had done was wrong?
Makoto looked back at the screen.
Madarame remained bowed while reporters shouted questions at him.
She felt relieved.
That was the part bothering her.
Makoto shook her head.
She didn't have enough information.
Right now, all she had was a collection of strange coincidences and an uncomfortable feeling that wouldn't leave her alone.
She turned toward the station.
For now, that would have to remain enough.
---