The Phantom Revisers (A Persona 5 AU fanfic)Â (Prologue: A Fixed Storyline)
âTell me everything Isshiki-chan. From the beginning. This is the only way that Iâm going to be able to help you.â The young police officer yelled at the girl who was sitting across from her, currently being interrogated. Her name was Futaba Isshiki. This is the story of The Phantom Revisers; a group of individuals who found themselves having a common theme: feeling like they didnât have any control over their lives, like they were stuck in a story that they didnât want to be a part of. They were able to grasp control over their own destinies, and vowed to help others in a similar situation, by changing the narratives of corrupt individuals who wanted to control others.
Unfortunately, the situation had gotten out of control. The Phantom Revisers had gotten so popular that everyone was gunning for them, wanting to know more about this group of individuals who were changing everything. Their latest target, a corrupt police officer who was convinced that they were dispensing justice correctly and fairly. However, all they were doing was forcing people along storylines that inevitably lead to their lives being destroyed, and any of those around them. Everything was going well, like it always had.
And then, like a second act climax where the protag experienced immense failure, everything collapsed right in front of the Revisersâ eyes and despite their best efforts, Futaba found herself getting captured and arrested. A lot of what happened next was a blur, her mind spinning as she tried to recall the events leading up to her being stuck in this oppressive environment.
Her Seiryo academy outfit, a blue button shirt with a red skirt was all scuffed up, a few tears present because of the Featherman pins that were on her shirt were ripped off. Just a consequence of being roughed up a bit at the beginning of the interrogation. This was when she was injected with something. She didnât know what, but her mind was hazy as a result. There were bruises along her face and arm, and a dried-up layer of blood going down from the corner of her lip.
There was this sense of just being in over her head she was in as her eyes glanced around the room. It was a drab concrete room with no windows, a camera with a blinking red light recording everything, for what little that was going to matter. There was a light humming to the room as the florescent lights above the table shined down upon them, occasionally flickering. Hearing that constant low humming noise was just adding to her wicked headache she was experiencing.
She tried to adjust her glasses slightly, feeling the bent frame struggle to stay on her face. Was there anything that she could say that would be satisfactory to this officer? Well, she wasnât going to have a chance to contemplate much, when she was startled out of her thought process by a sudden slamming on the table. Her body jerked in a reactionary manner, and her barely held together glasses fell off her face, hitting the cold, hard ground, finally breaking fully.
From the officerâs reaction, it was clear that despite the situation, she did feel a twinge of guilt upon seeing the glasses being broken like that. âOhâŠIâm sorry Isshiki-chan. Weâll get those replaced for you.â Why were they even caring about that? She was part of the reason why they were broken in the first place. And with her blurry vision one of the things that she was noticing was the Buchimaru pin.
That brought back some memories. However, her head continued to pound like a drum on a loop. Something about this was feeling off, but for the life of her she couldnât remember why. At least not at the current moment anyways. âNow then, Iâm going to ask you again to explain everything from the beginning. Or do I need to tell you what we have on you?â
A momentary silence filled the air. Not even that constant humming could be heard before things returned to normal. âVery well. Isshiki Futaba, you have been charged with illegally obtaining private information of citizens and private information from the government, several charges of blackmail against prominent citizens, breaking the terms set forth by your probation agreement, and murder. These charges will send you to Juvie, followed by a lengthy prison sentence, if not the death penalty once you turn old enough. Now, I can help with these but only if you cooperate with me.â
At this point, there really wasnât much that Futaba could do. Her silence was only digging herself deeper into this hole she was finding herself in. She was surprised that she wasnât feeling more anxious than this, but with her mind in a fog and the fact that she wasnât given the luxury of feeling anxiety, it probably shouldnât have been a surprise. âAlright, this is my tragic backstory. My fixed timeline as it were. By the end of it you will understand why I did what I did.â
Now the pages would start turning backwards, a story going back to its first page. This story would begin when her destiny was decided for her. February 19th, 2017. Futabaâs 16th Birthday. Normally a day of celebration, or at the very least feeling a little happiness for her age, because it meant presents and money for more stuff. However, there was a dark cloud that hovered over this day. She had been charged with hacking into the schoolâs servers and gathering private information for the purpose of selling.
The primary evidence used against her was the fact that she came across a large sum of money in a suspicious manner, something that she still was perplexed about how that happened; and the fact that she had a history with her school and computers. However, that was all her curiosity, getting the better of her and wanting to learn more about how stuff worked. It was something that she largely stopped doing once she obtained her own computer from her mother.
Her mother being Isshiki Wakaba. An esteemed scientist and researcher who was known for cracking the code on some perplexing scientific problems, among other things. Her primary bit of research right now involves something that seemed improbable if not impossible. Another world. A world where one could see their own narrative, their own world. The implications that this had on the concept of free will were staggering. However, she knew that this world was dangerous, in theory, so she tried to keep it as private as possible.
Especially from her daughter. It was the sort of thing that she didnât want her getting involved in, getting hurt and possibly killed. Not that it particularly mattered in this case, because her daughter had gotten involved in things that were going to change her life forever. This whole charge was not only causing her daughter to be constantly bullied and mocked, but her reputation as a mother and a scientist was being put into question. All because she was willing to defend her. How frustrating.
She was helping Futaba get ready for court, a task that she didnât wish on anyone. After all, her daughter wasnât exactly the most social individual in the world, always preferring to have her head in a book, reading, learning. Or more recently, being on her computer and chatting with people on there. Futaba was an incredibly intelligent young girl, but Wakaba wondered if she was going to end up being a hikkomori, or a neet or something when she grew up. It was a scenario she didnât wish for Futaba to end up going through.
They lived in Yokohama, in a small apartment near the water. The famous Cosmo clock 21, an enormous ferris wheel could be seen off in the distance. Futaba went to a private school, and while it wasnât the worst school ever, bullying was an extreme problem plaguing it. Especially once it was learned that she was being charged with a crime. It was to the point where Futaba didnât go to school for a few days. She refused to go to school and Wakaba was left with very little choice in the matter but to keep her home, using sickness as an excuse. However, that didnât hold up very well when pressed.
Futaba was standing still, eyes gazing around her room. It was a tiny room, but a cozy one. Her walls were covered with posters of various types. Featherman, other anime, and Egyptian Hieroglyphics. In addition, there were two bookshelves full of books, and her computer desk where she spent a lot of time on her high-end computer and laptop working on stuff. She also loved to write. There was a bunch of fanfics and other assorted stories lying around on her computer, all neatly organized as she was taught by Wakaba to do.
For the most part, she was silent, as Wakaba was using a lint roller to get any remaining hair and other assorted things off her school outfit. But it was clear that she was deeply in thought about this whole ordeal. âDo you still believe that I didnât do this mom? Cause I didnât. I know I didnât.â Futaba spoke up, taking Wakaba by surprise. âLook, I know you didnât do it. This whole thing with the sudden influx of money is something I still donât understand. However, I know you did the right thing by reporting it to the police. Even if they still are using it as evidence in this case.â
That was the thing that was most perplexing about this all. Where did that money come from, and why were the police and prosecutor so insistent that it was the lynch pin of this whole thing; when it was clear that Futaba didnât know where or why she got it. It was just in her locker one day. Why didnât they see who put the money there, and why? And why were there no defense attorneys who were wanting to even help with this?! Frustration was bubbling within Wakaba like a tea kettle on a stove.
âHowever, remember this Futaba dear. Iâm going to be there for you no matter what. Iâm not worried about my reputation or anything like that. You are my daughter, the most important thing in my life. And Iâm going to be there for you no matter what.â A heart-warming moment occurred as she hugged Futaba, keeping her tight and close to her and letting her warmth and kindness extend to the person she cared for the most. At this juncture, this was exactly what both of them needed.
âAnd, if you still want to dye your hair orange after this then I will support it. I just didnât want you to get bullied more. You know how our society is about dying hair.â She knew that Futaba was just wanting to do it because she saw characters in anime with cool colored hair; but that was a sign of rebellion in Japan, and that often lead to more bullying. âNow, remember what I told you alright? Be respectful, just like before, and donât speak up unless spoken to. Iâll be the one doing most of the talking.â
âAlright mom. ButâŠwhat will happen if I get found guilty?â That was a good question, one that really warranted an answer. However, Wakaba didnât have an answer. Not fully. âWell, assuming thatâs what happens, and Iâm going to do everything that I can to not have it happen, then itâll depend on what the Judge and the prosecutor decide. You could end up in Juvenile detention, or just possibly deal with probation. And given the nature of the crime, you may have limited computer access. But they already searched through your computer and found nothing so I donât think that will be the case.â
That wasnât particularly reassuring, however that was what Wakaba did. Was give blunt honest answers, even when she didnât fully know the answer because of the variables being dependent on unreliable humans. Not predictable like scientific experiments. âBut weâll just have to see how things go, alright? Itâs going to be another long day, so prepare for that. Weâll get something to eat after weâre done. Weâll go to your favorite sushi place and everything.â
Futaba perked up upon hearing Sushi. That also made her stomach grumble a bit. Woops. She was so stressed out and anxious that she didnât really feel like eating. All of this was just eating at her stomach, a nauseous feeling emanating from her whenever she thought about eating. All she could do was push that aside. It was going to be a long day as her mom stated. Taking a long, deep breath, it was time to go to court. Hopefully the best-case scenario would happen.
The trip to the courtroom was uneventful, but stress and anxiety inducing. She was standing in front of a whole group of people who seemed to be convinced she had committed some heinous stuff, and she nearly puked because of it. So far, it felt like everything was pre-determined, arranged in such a manner that there was no escaping her fate. This claustrophobic feeling would heighten as she was once again back on the stand, looking forward to the Judges who were getting prepared for the trial.
On her left was her mom, a manilla envelope in front of her with everything she had prepared. She didnât really understand this whole process. Law wasnât something that she was particularly interested in. However, the complexities of it all were something that she found a bit fascinating, even if she didnât want to be at this end of learning about it. On her right was the prosecutor of the trial, Keigo Izumida. He had a mostly bald head with a patch of hair along the top, and a long blue striped tie. His convictions were fierce, along with the way he handled himself.
He had been pushing all these facts about the money and her past transgressions regarding bypassing computer security in order to find out intimate details about how computers worked. It was, at the time ultimately seen as her curiosity getting the better of her, and after agreeing to not do that again, would end up getting a computer from Wakaba. And now it was being used as evidence of her hacking into the school servers.
Any thoughts that she had disappeared with a trace as the gavel was hit and everyone stood up. âThe trial for Isshiki Futaba will now continue. Please sit down.â The Judge announced to everyone, and they all sat down. Futaba, however, was still in the stand, letting off some shaky breaths. It was time to go through hell and back once again. âA reminder to the defense and prosecution that no new evidence can be brought to light at this point. You two are to present your final arguments. I will hold you in contempt of court if you attempt to do otherwise. Understood?â Wakaba and Keigo would agree to this. âNow then, Prosecution you may begin your closing arguments.â
âThank you, your honor. I want to start off by saying one thing and making it very clear. I donât have anything against the young woman in the stand here. Iâm sure sheâs a fine upstanding individual. However, she found herself taking advantage of her situation to make a profit. The fact is that she made a huge mistake and should have to deal with the consequences of her actions.â The Prosecutor made a point to stare at Wakaba who was clearly trying to suppress the urge to yell out at the guy.
âLetâs review what has been brought up to the court: First off, we have the sudden money that was found by her in her locker at school. She claims that she doesnât understand where this money came from. However, itâs clear that she does know, and is trying to cover herself, something unacceptable in a court of law.â His words had a venomous bite to them, intentionally to make her seem like some evil mastermind that wanted money, but then felt guilty and went to the police about it. She didnât even know most of her classmates!
âSecondly, we brought up her prior history regarding bypassing school computer security measures that are designed to keep them safe. This proves that she has the skills to pull off these sorts of things. Next, there was a series of anonymous online interactions that belonged to her where she stated that she could in fact hack into stuff like the school servers if she wished. I think itâs safe to say your honor, with everything thatâs been presented, that she is the only one who couldâve done this.â
The Judge nodded, eyes focused on the Prosecution for a moment before turning his attention towards Futaba, that piercing glare making her feel like she was getting stared into her soul. Then they turned to the Defense, that being Wakaba. âDefense, your final argument please.â Futaba knew that her mom had a way with words. Articulating them efficiently was what she was known for. She demonstrated that during the last court session. But was she going to be convincing enough this time?
âThank you, your honor.â Wakaba began, her poise professional, holding a piece of paper in her hand before setting it down, adjusting it in her usual perfectionist manner. âTo start off, I want you to consider one fundamental aspect of this case. "The fact of the matter, that should make you reevaluate whether she's guilty, is that none of what the prosecution has been shown has been conclusive evidence"
Taking a deep breath, Wakaba steadied herself and continued to speak. âThis sudden influx of money was found in her locker at school. A public place where itâd be easy enough to check records of who came in and out of it. Yet thereâs been no mention of who put the money in. It seems like the Prosecution is correlating that the money was because of hacking into the servers, and in no way a possible indication of her getting set up. Plus, she did go to the police about it. Because thatâs what youâre supposed to do. Not out of guilt.â
âWeâre taught if you find money, especially a lot of it that you take it to the police so they can help find the owner of it. She was doing just that. Thatâs not indicative of guilt. It should be easy enough to find out who sent the money and yet here we are. Nobodyâs been found. This all feels like the making of a set up to me.â A look of determination was etched into Wakabaâs face as she kept talking. âHer previous records are not an indication of guilt either. Merely a young girl who got too curious for her own good. Which was rectified by her getting her own personal computer and laptop. Those were searched by police.â
Some murmurings could be heard from the crowd. Hopefully they believed what was being presented here. âShe has gone on record and said that the correspondence to the person online was her merely answering a question and not indicative of her planning on anything. It is weird that they would ask that, however, but I believe the answer is simple. More set up for her to take the fall for reasons we donât know of yet. My conclusion is simple: No conclusive evidence means sheâs not guilty. Simple as that.â
âNow that both of your final arguments are out of the way, we will now lay down ourââ The Judge was interrupted by the Prosecution speak up.
âItâs really a shame you are a scientist and not a lawyer. Because you just gave us one hell of a speech there. No conclusive evidence? You have a bias because itâs your own child. Simple as that.â Keigo had a smirk to his face that just made Wakabaâs blood boil. âThe reason why no defense attorney worth a salt would defend your child is because they know the truth. And all youâre doing is ruining your reputation for no reason.â
âThat is not true, and you know it! I am merely defending her because nobody else will!â Wakaba retorted, hands balling up into fists, her frustration very much noted. âYou have just as much of a bias here as well, and itâs obvious in yourââ She was interrupted by the sound of the gavel.
âEnough. Bickering between the defense and Prosecution is getting us nowhere. We are here to discuss facts, not discuss bias. Now, unless one of you wants to be held in contempt of court, we will now give our judgment.â
A silence overtook the court room, filled with swelling anticipation of how things were going to shake out. âOur judgment is that while there is not definitive proof of her committing the crimes, the defense has not done a good enough job of disputing these either, providing no definitive proof of her innocence. Frankly, this trial has been a disgrace. But our judgment is that we determine that at this current time, she is guilty, and our recommendation is a year probation. On top of that, the school will get paid 3 million yen in damages related to the hack.â
With that, it felt like everything just shattered in front of Futabaâs eyes. Why was she being charged when the Judge admitted blatantly that there wasnât any definitive evidence that she did it! She wanted to say something so badly, the urge hit her to scream out that she wasnât guilty. This wasnât right! Her life was getting dictated by a blatantly false charge and there wasnât anything she could do about it. It was like one of her manga and anime where everything was going wrong for the protagonist.
âHang on! You barely considered things!â Wakaba yelled in a fit of desperation. âYou said there was no definitive evidence, shouldnât that mean sheâs not guilty! That hardly seems fitting for a Judge andââ
âIsshiki-san, you are not helping your case. Itâs over now anyways. We will reconvene for a later date for sentencing.â
âIâm going to appeal this; thereâs no way that this will be the end of this!â It was clear that Wakabaâs composure was shaking and falling apart at the seams. Unfortunately for Wakaba, any attempts at appeal were going to ultimately fail. The next few weeks were one failed attempt after another to get them to consider an appeal, to get more evidence shown but it was all denied. In the meanwhile, her reputation was getting dragged through the mud. She was being seen as the mother of a criminal, and the bullying her daughter was receiving was only rose exponentially.
Their whole world had fallen apart, and it felt like they were looking at the remnants of their past lives through the shattered pieces of a mirror on the ground. When it came time for proper sentencing, Futaba was sentenced to 1 year of probation, having to relocate to another school of their choice. Whoever would take her anyways. Wakaba was required to pay the school 3.5 million yen for damages due to the breach.
âMom, what do we do nowâŠ?â Futaba asked in a defeated tone as they were eating dinner for what could possibly be the last time in their current home. The meal was curry, something that they both enjoyed. It was a recipe that she helped another person out with. Someone that she considered a good friend.
âWe move out and find another place to live. Thatâs the only thing we can do. Iâve been asking around, and the only school anywhere nearby that will take you is Shujin Academy in Tokyo. Thereâs a friend of mine living in a neighborhood around there that I hope will allow us to stay with us. You remember him.â
âOh.â Futaba finally made the realization.
âAmamiya-san?â If that was the case then things were going to get interesting, and possibly not in the best of ways.
âThe very one.â And that was the answer to that.
A mostly wordless dinner would occur, and more time would pass like the flipping of pages in a book. The bullying didnât stop, not even on the last day where they announced that Futaba would be transferring to another school for the next year. It seemed that she was universally hated at this point. There was this continued sense that her life was being dictated to her. That she had no control or say over what was happening to her. But this was all being pushed on to her, and all she could do was accept it.
Fast forward to a little time later, Futaba sat on the bed in her room, overlooking the now bleak and empty room full of boxes. This was where she lived for most of her life, and some of her most cherished memories were. She could remember vividly mom reading to her in here, learning how to code and in the few times that she brought friends over, there were fond memories of them playing and having fun. All of that was being taken away from her.
âAre you about ready to go sweetie?â Wakaba inquired, knowing that Futaba wasnât ready. Not truly. Neither was she if she was honest. However, it was time for them to pack up their lives and start anew. âIâm sorry that I couldnât help you more. Iâm justâŠtruly a failure as a mother, arenât I?â Her eyes gazed down; the usual sense of optimism replaced with a purely defeatist one. She helped Futaba grab some of the heavier boxes and was transporting them to the moving truck. Futaba, being stuck in a fixed timeline, was about to discover that she had the power to change everything. This was where the story truly beganâŠ
[Link to Chapter one]














