Previously called Persona 4-5: Crisis Revisited - The story is revamped with better writing and canon
I decided to write this story after playing Persona Arena on the Xbox, subsequently investing half an hour into learning each characters backstory so as not to offend you Persona 4 players too much.
Incidentally. I update faster when I receive reviews.
Old fashioned police work seemed like a foreign term from a lost civilization.
But Naoto wasn't complaining as her city-issued vinyl stamped the floor muddled with puddles, three quarters of the way there, it was within reach now. Right behind the abandoned playground where invisible children pushed the swings, the address she deduced to be the holding place for the man kidnapped in his 40's. It surprised her even then that seemingly capable people were being subject to kidnappings and suicides, it just didn't fit with the personas they showed to their family members, day after day. Not the scary, in your face, "I'll zap you with lightning" kind of Personas that she and her friends have. The personas that dwell inside every human being, the personalities that define them, she liked those personas even more than the visible ones.
She was met with a boarded window to building F-3. With a deep breath and a tense desire for absolution she smashed in the molded boards with her heel, then her hands dropped and formed a ball. Despite her confidence in the Chief's intel the building in front of her was as empty as her stomach and twice as useless.
The next morning she reached reflexively for her detective hat and covered her taut blue hair. She was careful not to look in the bathroom mirror too long since she might see her own shadow looking back at her.
Right now, her own life was a mystery, the disappearances, the reason her Persona would not answer her. She took note of her surroundings and once she was sure no one was watching she yelled, "Sukuna-Hikona!"
She abruptly retracted her outstretched arms, a cold draft wavering through the tiny window.
"Still no answer", she said, then letting out a tiny sigh laced with regret. To be rejected by your own Persona felt like having your insides shown to people that you thought loved you but really hated you.
School had already started, and just thinking about the goofy look on her friends faces gave her a level of peace.
"Naoto!", she recognized the voice. "Hey don't ignore me!"
Naoto heeled her shockingly blue bike to face her acquaintance. Chie had her head cocked like a curious child, all while sporting pouty lips that were one of her more girly features. This was probably one of her attempts to involve her in some silly challenge like the "vegetarian challenge", she hoped it was that. A frivolous proposition by Chie would give her situation a much needed element of predictability.
"Have you seen the news?-", Chie said.
"-I'm sorry but I don't have time for small talk", with those words Naoto ducked her head and kicked off. She could only hope Chie didn't notice the ghostly complexion she wore knowing the media had already caught wind of the murders. She had to work faster in order to avoid a potential mass panic.
Instead of going straight to school she took a detour to the local gym. She walked briskly through the open double-doors despite the new limp she got custody of an inquisitive Chie. It was time for a boxing workout. If her legs were being useless then she would pound her upper-body; making the heavy-bag a reflection of herself in the end.
"Is there something we should know?", said Yu Narukami.
Naoto was adorned in a cloak of sweat and heat while she ate a smashed ham sandwich. He caught her mid-bite.
Yu was sitting like you would at home, his relaxed demeanor was contagious enough to make you to feel safe around him.
"And why are you sitting at the edge of the lunch table, do we embarrass you?" he said.
Naoto was about to refute his claim, unaware if it was meant to be taken seriously but Yosuke interrupted.
"Man, give her a break. I mean, between kicking crime in the butt and being chased by boys its no wonder she's late", he said.
Yu nodded with a serious expression. He knew a lot about responsibility and was keen enough to give people the space they require. That was the thing about Yu, he was someone she trusted to take care of himself, which was rare among humans. He was on a temporary vacation from his home city in order to help Yosuke with an Easter Hunt this year, but with the smirk on his face and the lax positioning of his arm it felt like he was here to stay.
Naoto took a deep breath; watching Yosuke crack jokes and fabricating brief explanations to Chie for her earlier behavior were the highlights of the day but there was a gnawing feeling festering in her stomach ever since she encountered Yu that day. The way he talked and acted, the look in his eyes, he was up to something, and it didn't involve putting fun-sized candy bars into Easter eggs.
Everybody went home leaving Naoto at a lone stump surrounded by twisted trees that seemed to come alive with her thoughts. She felt guilty for not involving her friends in the most recent case after they trusted her to solve the last case involving the "midnight channel", a television program that served as a blacklist for a string of murders.
Her friends did trust her to get the job done when the chips were on the table last time. Her eyes gleamed with the shine of a tarnished quarter she eclipsed the sun with.
That's what she wanted to believe.
"Report", said Naoto. The police station was eerily empty, only a few silent lamps and known shirkers kept her company.
"Two people went missing yesterday", an officer remarked with a hand jammed in his pocket.
"Was there anything unusual about them?", she said, not knowing what to expect.
"I don't know. Isn't that your job, ace detective? The real officers around here are arresting dangerous criminals while you play Sherlock Holmes like you're still in grade school", he replied.
Naoto saw some officers in the far right desks covering their mouths to prevent full-on cackles with her 20/20's; she couldn't determine what part of this exchange filled them with such exuberance but she didn't take such discouragements to heart. Not when she had her father's shadow to escape from.
All of her friends believed that she and her father were never all that close which was admittedly, her fault. It wasn't as if she liked deceiving her friends but there are some areas of her life that are so complicated that she has to simplify them for people, even her closest friends. So she told them that he died with her mother in an accident.
Hardly she tacked a police report detailing the events of last night on the wall alongside three other reports from three separate investigations. She stared for a good hour yet determining the link between suicides with so little information was making her head spin, tantamount to playing a video game blindfolded.
There was something that linked these three suicides together; they were only moments apart after all, but it was pointless. Before long her eyelids began filling with lead because two hours of sleep for three days was apparently insufficient. She tried to override her bodies tranquilizing command but she could already feel drool trickling down the side of her mouth.
Yet even while she slumbers she resents her bodies forcefulness and her brains limits that she has little control over. It upsets her that even though nobody could tell, there is a part of her that wishes to end all pain, a part of her that wants doesn't want people's fates riding on her shoulders.
To fall asleep and never wake up because if her reality was a fantasy, a dream, then anything would be possible. Pain, loss, and responsibility would be non-existent. When people dream, lost information and skills awaken involuntarily, as if they are tapping into a hidden reservoir of strength; a few minutes of that wouldn't kill her.
As soon as she awakened she rolled up her cuffed sleeves and scrawled her "dream ideas" on her notepad, afraid she might forget what her dreams whispered to her if she waited another second. It was eleven' at night but people were counting on her; she couldn't sleep knowing that she was inches away from cracking the case anyway.
An empty carton of macaroni salad rested on her living-room table.
She was facing the CRT TV., the swallowing darkness increasing her jumpiness already presented by sleep deprivation. The grey snow in the black frame growled at her as she thumbed through 43 channels, stopping on channel 65. The static swam in the ocean of her cerulean eyes as she pursed her lips; the numbers would not go to channel 66. They would simply go back to channel 1 and then back to 65 like a pendulum.
What about channel 66?
Her body sunk into the couch. The brim of her hat slumped on her nose, as if to notify her that it was almost midnight; her dad would never let her stay up this late, he would tease that if she didn't go to bed by eight' every night she wouldn't grow past 5 feet.
She's an adult now, but when her Persona denied her she felt like a little girl again.
Reliving the worst moment of her life.
*Flashback*
"Dad, don't leave us!", she cried "Mommy, don't let him leave us!"
Naoto's mom was despondent, her eyes drifting off; a zombie that had forsaken all sensation after one too many unfaithful dealings.
Her mom was never the same since; feeding and clothing Naoto, but never loving her daughter the same as when the family was complete as if the turmoil had shut down the part of her brain that let her love.
There was a few nights when Naoto caught her mother bent over her bed, the whiteness of the blanket turning a morbid grey beneath her curtain of wires. It was at these times that Naoto would lock herself in the knowledge base, step one to becoming a detective. If her father, the proud heir of the Shirogane name, has been a pillar of strength for her mother all this time then maybe it was time his daughter shoulder some of that responsibility.
Unfortunately, she learned it is impossible for a doll-eyed seven year old to do much when her mother doesn't want to feel pain anymore, doesn't want to feel anything.
"Stupid nightmares", said Naoto, rustling her hair, a metaphorical toothpick saluting the darkness from the corner of her mouth. Her digital alarm flashed the numbers "11:59" signaling that this was not her longest nap ever.
Her eyes refocused on the television screen which was now blank, not even glowing with the residual phosphorescent dots that an old television set would have after half-hour intervals. It was then that she realized a minty smell emanating from behind her couch and to the right; the location of her seldom-used kitchen.
"It smells like... tea", she thought. She didn't make tea.
With her favorite sidearm she made a beeline for her spare bedroom, the only place with enough space to hide an intruder, and with a single whipping motion she slammed the door hard enough to disorient any unwanted guests, aiming her gun at three key points that an infiltrator could hide, the bed, the closet and the second restroom. There was a woman in her bed that looked shocked as if Naoto was intruding on her and not the other way around but before she could even suck air into her lungs she found her legs seized and her midriff strangulated.
"Always trying to outdo me", a brusque voice reverberated in her inner-ear.
The external pressure that was stifling her movement was released all at once. She picked her stunned corpse up off the rug then confronted the intruders with her detectives instincts in full throttle.
The sight she saw was something that her brain did not want to believe but her eyes forced her to accept, taking advantage of all five senses but forgetting the sixth one, despair.
"Mom?... Dad?"