The rain had stopped, but the streets of Yongen-Jaya still glistened. The sky was bruised purple, lit faintly by distant pulses in the clouds—traces of the Mirrorbound's presence still flickering at the edge of reality.
Ren stepped into Leblanc and found the rest of the Phantom Thieves already gathered.
Makoto leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Futaba had hacked into two different monitors at once. Ryuji and Yusuke shared solemn glances. Tae Takemi sat near the bar, fingers drumming on a napkin, her eyes alert but troubled.
The warmth of the café should've been comforting. It wasn't.
Because Sojiro Sakura… wasn't Sojiro anymore.
The Woman Behind the Counter
She turned at the sound of the door—shoulder-length black hair, smooth skin, the lines of age erased as if someone had pressed rewind.
She looked no older than twenty-three, but still wore Sojiro's signature coffee-stained apron. Her eyes, however—those were his. Quiet, sharp, guarded.
"Yo," she said, voice lighter but laced with familiar gruffness. "Took you long enough."
Ren froze mid-step. The others just stared.
Makoto was the first to speak:
"Sojiro…?"
"Was," she said, raising a brow. "Now it's… Sora. Still me. Just, uh…" she gestured vaguely to her new body. "Had a bit of an 'awakening' yesterday."
Futaba blinked. "WHAT?!"
"Yeah. I locked up, took the trash out, and got hit with what I thought was a panic attack." She poured a cup of coffee with the same practiced grace. "Next thing I know, I'm flat on my back with a damn Persona in my head and about five inches shorter."
"Persona?!" Haru's voice cracked slightly. "Wait—you awakened?"
"Not exactly by choice." Sora—Sojiro?—sighed. "I think I got caught in one of those bleed zones you keep muttering about."
Sora Sakura: The Phantom Guide
As she talked, a faint shimmer pulsed at her fingertips. A Tarot sigil glowed beneath her apron pocket—The Hierophant, but warped. It shimmered like mirror glass.
"My Persona's called Fenestra. Some kind of divine archivist, I think. A mirror guardian. Lotta freaky symbols and a voice that wouldn't shut up about 'guidance through contradiction.'" She gave Ren a look. "Sound familiar?"
Ryuji muttered, "Even our damn caretaker's getting pulled in now…"
"I'm not a kid anymore, Ryuji," Sora said with a smirk. "Technically, I'm younger than you now."
Ann nearly choked on her drink.
Yusuke murmured reverently, "This distortion... it alters not only self-image, but metaphysical anchors. We're no longer the only awakened."
Tae folded her arms, gaze tight. "It's spreading. First me, now her. That confirms it—we're past containment."
The Ties That Bind
Sora glanced at Futaba, who still sat stiff, mouth parted in confusion.
"Hey. Kid."
Futaba looked up slowly.
"Still your guardian. Still your annoying coffee-brewing, curry-cooking house goblin.""Just… y'know. Younger. Prettier. Possibly divine." She smirked. "You can still call me Dad if you want."
That earned a few laughs, though tight with anxiety.
Futaba got up quietly and hugged her.
"I don't care what form you're in," she whispered. "You're still my family."
The Team's Next Step
The café grew quiet again, the kind of silence that comes after a turning point.
"So what now?" Makoto asked. "We can't keep chasing these fragments without a plan."
"And if bleed zones are dragging civilians into awakenings," Tae added, "we're on a time limit."
Ren leaned forward.
"Then we find the next mirror fragment—and we find whoever's pulling the strings behind Veluria and the Mirrorbound."
Sora—no, Sakura—refilled their cups.
"Then it's a good thing you've got a new bartender-turned-shadow-witch on your side."