Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

So, some of you may be wondering, what is this?

Well, if you were to say that this is yet another “Sidekick” special of taking pre-established characters and throwing out their continuities and sticking them into another, you would be right.

If you were to also say that this was the result of an inadvertent allnighter, you would also be right.

Basically what this is is, as you can probably figure from the title, is the Persona series, but given the Gotham by Gaslight treatment. Ie., Persona (Persona 5 specifically, maybe more in the future) but in a turn of the century kind of setting. Now, since Japan turn of the century was a different place from what pretty much is the widely viewed idea of turn of the century (namely Victorian-era London), this is going to be more just a general kind of steampunky world, though with definite British influences, namely in slang, accents, and whatnot.

The only other prerequisites I’d say are that: 

1) This starts off in media res, as in the Phantom Thieves, or, well, Phantom Thief, already exist. 

2) This series features the proud return of footnotes from my Sherrinford stories. Notes will always be found at the end of the chapter.

3) This series will get about as dark as the original game does, so mature themes like suicide, abuse, depression, and murder at the very least, viewer discretion is advised.

4) This series is gonna spoil the Persona games, due to following similar beats to the original series, so if you don’t know what happens in them, do not proceed.

Other than that, I hope you all enjoy what I have in store. This has been in the works for months now, and I’m finally getting around to it. I’m doing this as part of my Nanowrimo thing, so hopefully, this’ll be getting updated more frequently, but I have been known to not have the best schedule. I’ll just try to update this when I can.

-Sean ‘MrLsSidekick’

Chapter Text

A Phantom Thief - that’s what the media called it; a person, or specter, or being of some fashion, who could appear and vanish without a trace, exposing the private (often dark) affairs of whomsoever had the misfortune to find the Thief’s eyes set on them. It made the private public, exposed the dark to the light, destroying many an upper societal crusters’ lives. To them, it was a nuisance, a threat to the lifestyle in which they found themselves sitting quite comfortably.

To Ann Takamaki, however, it was hope.

She had heard about The Thief from a colleague of hers at some point before; she had paid it no mind, writing it off as merely just another rumor making its way around the circuit of public interest, like the idea of people suddenly catching on fire on their own. But now, due to a recent string of rather negative turns in her life, she had suddenly taken a keen interest to see if these “Phantom Thief” rumors were true.

It was the only reason why she could ever think of finding herself alone in the night in a place like Yongen-Jaya. But the instructions in “The Phantom Crier”{1} were quite clear: “any and all messages to the Thief were to be left at ‘The Crossroads’”, a tavern in Yongen-Jaya. Unfortunately for Ann Takamaki, this meant going out of her way to a district a fair distance from her home (she lived in Shimokitazawa, as to be close to her job). To add insult to injury, it was now raining too.

Lovely, she thought, it just had to be raining the night she decided to go across town after performing “The Three Gentlemen of Kilkearny”, meaning she was wearing her nice dress. Fortunately, she had a shawl to protect herself from the rain, but that did nothing for the tales of her skirt which was dragging through the muddy puddles forming on the cobbled streets. But ruined dress or not, this was a matter far too important to be held off.

The blonde actress lifted her head, scouring the street for any sign indicating that “The Crossroads” was close. No such luck. Dipping her head back down, she pulled out the letter she had written; she thought it best to make one last check to make sure she had said everything she needed to say.

Monsieur Arsene, or whatever the name that the person who is known as “The Phantom Thief” wishes to be called,

My name is Ann Takamaki. I humbly beseech your assistance in a matter of dire urgency.{2}

But first, a small disclaimer: my request isn’t exactly one that would fit normally into your repertoire. I am a woman of the lower class, and, as such, do not have issue with a member of the upper echelons of society, aside from the general disdain we of the lower class feel towards them. However, I implore you to at the very least listen to my plea, it could mean the difference between life and death for someone very close to me.

My issue lies with a man by the name of Suguru Kamoshida. He is the landlord of the apartment I share with Shiho Suzui, the person close to me I mentioned before. Due to the virtue that Shiho and I are both women, Mr. Kamoshida (I revile to call him by a title he does not deserve) is under the impression that he can use his position as landlord over us to take advantage of us. He has propositioned and made advances of a most unsavory nature, with attempted forceful compliance under threat of our eviction. I, thus far, have been consistently calling his bluff, rebuking him at every turn. I fear, however, that Shiho has not been as successful as I have in this. She has been much more distant as of late, often staring off into nothingness for great lengths of time. The turning point, however, is the instance where I found her alone in an offshoot room of the building, rope hoisted and poised to bring death. Fortunately, I was able to prevent it this time, but I fear the possibility that it could happen again.

And this is why I turn to you, Monsieur Arsene. From your reputation, I’ve gathered that you act almost as an angel of retribution, standing for those who cannot stand for themselves. So I pray you, please, help us bring justice to a monster of a man, and save the life of an innocent woman.

If you wish to contact me, I can be found most nights at the Theatre Royale. I await your response.

Ann Takamaki

Satisfied with her writings, Ann folded up the letter and began to put it away, only to look up and realize that while she was rereading, she had managed to find her way to the very place she was looking for. Sighing in relief, she doffed her boots (she had the common sense not to wear heels outside of the theater) of mud and stepped inside.

The Crossroads looked like your typical slum tavern and was filled with the expected denizens of a place in this part of town at this time of night: ruffians, ladies of the night, ad the petty criminal of every shape and size. In a crowd like this, Ann stuck out like a sore thumb. To her credit, though, she managed to enter without too much fanfare. Ann looked around the room, trying to recall the next step in the instructions. “Leave all requests in the care of Lala.” Now, which of these people is Lala, she wondered. Her eyes eventually landed on a rather large woman acting as barkeep. Maybe she was Lala, and if not she might know who is.

As Ann made her way to th bar, she noticed something peculiar. Behind the bar was a sign stating the name of the pub. That wasn’t the strange part. The strange thing was that said sign was adorned with electric lights, a rare commodity at the time; not even the Theatre Royale had them, and they were one of the most prestigious theatre companies in the city. Ann brushed off her curiosity as she approached the bar

“‘Scuse me,” Ann said to the bartender. “You wouldn't happen to be or know Lala?”

“As a matter of fact,” the barkeep responded, “I am Lala. What can I do for you, love?”

“Oh good, good! Well, uh…” Ann’s voice dropped to a hush. “I heard you take requests for the… Phantom Thief?”

“Oh love, you don’t need to be quiet about him here, everyone here knows not to mess with him, but he ain’t a cursed name like he is uptown. He wouldn’t stand for it.”

“He? You know him?”

“‘Course I do, usually he sends one of his representatives to collect the requests, but every once in a while he shows up to do it himself.”

“Would he happen to be here tonight? I wanted to speak to him face to face.”

Lala looked around, as if searching, perhaps to hide hesitation, before answering, “No, sorry love, not tonight.” In an effort to alleviate Ann’s disappointment, she added, “But I can make sure your request gets to him as quick as possible.”

A small smile appeared on Ann’s face as she handed over the letter. “Thank you.”

“‘Course love,” Lala returned the smile before continuing, “now then, how about a drink on the house?”

“Oh, thanks, but I can’t now. My flat’s on the other side of town.”

“Ah, I getcha. Well, don’t be a stranger. You’re welcome here any time you like.” Lala leaned in close to Ann and whispered, “Between you and me, you’re a breath of fresh air. We ain’t fo much call for all them classy folks too often, so it’s nice to have you here, even if you only come here for… him.”

“Classy? No, tommyrot. I’m just an actress.”

“Well, you still got more class than half these pickpockets and drunkards put together, so you’re classy in my book.” Lala patted Ann’s hand which was resting on the bar as she said this. “Now,” she continued, “You run along home now, but come back soon alright?”

Ann smiled as she turned to leave. “Alright,” she replied, waving. Ann was grateful for Lala’s friendliness in a situation like this. Treating someone in a desperate enough situation to turn to a vigilante like the Phantom Thief for help with kindness and understanding, it was admirable. Ann made a mental note to stop by here again should she ever find herself in this part of town again.

Her thoughts process was interrupted, however, by nearly tripping over something. Looking down to investigate, she found that a small cat had found its way around her legs. It was mostly black, save for a white patch on its snout and its dazzling blue eyes, which reminded Ann of her own eyes. Leaning down and petting it gently, she cooed, “Aren’t you a pretty kitty?” The cat responded by purring and rubbing its head against Ann’s hand affectionately. After a moment of petting, Ann stood up, said bye to the cat and Lala, and left.

What she didn’t notice though, as she was leaving, was the cat running towards the bar and leaping on top of it. The cat walked up to Lala and started meowing. Lala responded by presenting Ann’s letter, which the cat took in its mouth as it leaped off the bar, It made its way over to a table in the corner, where under a shadow a figure with a dark coat and red gloves sat. The cat dropped the letter in front of the figure. The figure picked up the letter and made a gesture to send the cat off. As the figure opened it and began reading, the cat crept out the door and started following Ann home.