Disclaimer: Radiant Historia and Persona both belong to Atlus~
"The first card, numbered 0, is the Fool. It represents the beginning and suggests infinite possibilities."
Edogawa-sensei, Persona 3.
As usual, Eruca was up before the rest of her family.
She knew her brother was probably awake as well, but on weekends he was rarely out of his room before nine. Their mother, for her part, slept well past eleven on Saturday and Sunday mornings. She spent each Friday evening going out with her girlfriends, and she always came home in the middle of the night, dead drunk and in a stupidly good mood. The following mornings she was invariably afflicted by hellish hangovers, but, in her own words, this was nothing a good cup of coffee couldn't fix.
Still, Eruca didn't mind the lack of company. By 8 o'clock, she was dressed and ready to go to her weekly archery club practise, with one hour to spare. As she finished eating breakfast, she glanced at the pile of dishes stockpiled in the sink with a critical eye. With a sigh, she decided to head back to her room. She'd do the dishes after she'd come home from her practise (meaning: when Ernst or Mom would be up and about).
Eruca's cat Musket, a birthday gift from her mother, brother and uncle, was making little snores by the feet of her bed. Eruca kissed the soft white fuzz of the kitten's head, just in-between the adorable triangle-shaped ears, then gathered her laundry, stealing one last look at the mirror on her dresser to make sure her hair still looked presentable. She carefully balanced the basket on one hip as she descended the stairs, on tiptoes so she would not wake her mother; she nearly sent it all flying when the loud thrill of the doorbell rang out loud and clear.
Eruca gripped her laundry basket tighter, looking at the door with eyes as round as saucers. It was barely past 8, and a Saturday morning to boot. Who on Earth would think of visiting at such an hour?
Eruca put the basket on the floor and walked up to the door, uneasy. Her hand was barely touching the knob when the doorbell rang out again. Eruca ignored the startled jolt that rippled through her at the sound and pushed the door open.
The man who stood before her was rather tall, so much that she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. Eruca stared at him for several long seconds, before recognition slowly started to sink in. The person she remembered always looked impeccable, with a neatly trimmed beard running alongside his jaw and a crooked smile worthy of a movie star. This was not the case with the man looming over her now. Instead of one of his numerous designer's suits, he was wearing a long and dirty rain coat, with a red cap casting shadows on his usually intense blue eyes. She scrunged up her nose at his smell and looked away. What is he doing here?
"Father," Eruca managed to say. "Um..."
"Eruca." The man's arm snaked across the distance between them to grab Eruca's wrist. His other arm was holding a package wrapped in brown paper. "Good. I was afraid that it would be your mother or worse, your..."
"You're not supposed to be here," Eruca said. Immediately, she thought of her brother, probably still in bed with no idea of what was going on. "I mean—"
Victor cut her off with a chuckle. "Oh, don't be a bore like your mother, sweetie. I'm not doing anything wrong, am I? A father is entitled to see his daughter once in a while, right?"
Eruca's lips thinned to a line, but she swallowed the obvious reply. Ernst would have had the guts to say it to his face.
"Why are you here?" she said instead, sighing. "You really shouldn't—"
"Eruca," Victor interrupted her again. He stepped closer to her, and Eruca evaded his gaze when his hand came to rest upon her shoulder. "There is a little something you can do for me, sweetie. Do you think you could help me?"
Before she could open her mouth to reply, he thrust the brown parcel in her arms.
Eruca blinked as she looked at the package in her hands. From the corner of her eyes, she could see her father smiling, but she couldn't find in herself the will to return his expression.
"Father, what is this?" she finally asked.
"Oh, nothing, really," Victor said. He shrugged. "I've been looking through your grandfather's stuff lately. You know how much junk the old man has left us."
"If it's just some junk, then why do you want me to look after it?"
Victor chuckled again. The sound grated at Eruca's ears.
"Always the curious one, are you?" From his tone, it seemed he hadn't meant it as a compliment. "Just keep an eye on it for a while. You don't even need to tell your mother. It won't be for long, trust me."
Eruca frowned. "I don't want any trouble. Don't you have friends who can help you?"
She immediately knew it hadn't been the thing to say.
Victor's smile froze, and his hand tightened around Eruca's shoulder. Eruca stared at her feet, miserable, knowing well what was next.
"Why is it always so hard to ask a little favour from you lot?" Her father's voice was dark with reproach. "It's not much. You wouldn't even be able to afford most of that fancy stuff," he motioned over to their house and Mom's car in the driveway, "if it wasn't for the money I have to send your mother. Really, I'm not asking for much in return."
Eruca only continued to examine the tip of her slippers. His hand was heavy on her shoulder. She felt the familiar sense of guilt creeping up on her. "Father, I... well, Mom says you're not even supposed to be here..."
"Eruca? Who's that you're talking to?"
Eruca's head shot up, her heart swelling, and she looked behind her. Indeed, as she had hoped, her brother was halfway through the stairs. His gaze went from sleepy to steel cold in the span of a heartbeat. It was amazing to see just how threatening Ernst could manage to look even in old torn-up pajamas and puppy-shaped slippers (a gift from their mother). Victor's hand slipped from Eruca's shoulder. She let out the breath she had been holding for the past minute.
"You. What are you doing here?" Ernst said as he slided over to Eruca's side. To just about anyone his tone would have sounded rather neutral, but Eruca knew better.
Victor must have been aware of Ernst's anger as well—he had to be. Still, he managed to school his lips into a smile. "Ah, Ernst, my boy, long time no see. I was having a little chat with your sister. It's been a while, isn't it? Is everything going well in your life? You're going to be a senior when the semester starts, aren't you?"
Ernst was clearly not interested in broaching the subject of school—or any other subject, it seemed. "You're not allowed to be here. Get lost."
Eruca bit down her lip. Already, she could see that their father had risen up to take up the bait.
"I don't remember your mother and I raising you to be so flippant," the man said in a growl. "Is it your uncle who taught you to be that insolent?"
"There's nothing wrong with the way Mom raised me," was all Ernst said. "Or with what Uncle taught me."
Victor flared his teeth, but in response Ernst only folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe, the perfect picture of the cheeky, bored teen. The red pajamas and slippers only completed the ensemble.
"I didn't take a flight halfway across the continent only to have my own son behave like the worst of brats," the man finally said. "Fine. I'll go."
"Yes," Ernst said. "Mom put us half a continent away from you for a reason. Have a nice trip back home." His eyes were two pools of blue-green ice.
Both of Victor's hands tightened into fists. Ernst raised a brow, and he stepped forward, putting himself between the man and Eruca. Victor took the hint; without another word he turned on his feet and stomped towards the wreck of a car he must have used to get here.
The two siblings waited before the red vehicle was well out of sight before they headed back inside.
"Good thing all this fuss didn't wake Mom up," Eruca said with a sigh. "She would have been furious..."
"And Uncle would have gone directly for the shotgun." A corner of Ernst's mouth quirked into one of these funny little half-smiles he was so prone to make. "What's that he's given you?"
"Oh, this?" Eruca wondered whether or not she should open the package. The whole matter just made her queasy. She shifted back and forth on her spot, unsure, before finally giving Ernst the brown parcel so he could inspect it. "I have no clue. He wanted us to look after it."
Ernst grunted and rolled his eyes. "Of course he did."
"What should we do?" Eruca asked. "I mean, what was all of this about? He was acting very strange."
Ernst raised a brow.
"I mean, stranger than usual," Eruca clarified.
"I can take care of this it if you want," Ernst said. "Just go get your things or else you'll be late for your practise."
"Oh! I'd completely forgotten about that!" Eruca hid her face in her hands, groaning. "Damn him! I'm going to be late!"
Ernst grinned that lazy grin of his, and he mussed up her hair. "Don't worry about it. I can drive you there."
Eruca squeezed his arm. "Oh, thank you, Ernst! I wouldn't have made it in time if I'd gone on my own!"
Ernst stayed under the doorway, brown parcel in hands, as he watched her run up the stairs. Now that she could not see him, he allowed himself a frown. The whole damned thing left him strangely uneasy.
"What the hell did that bastard get us into?" Stocke muttered to himself. He knew he wouldn't get the answer today, however—if he did get to have the answer at all. With a shrug, he followed his sister, not knowing that the invisible cogs of fate had slowly begun to grind to a start.
Author's notes: I'm trying a little something, here, mostly because I love these two universes so much. If you have any ideas/criticisms, feel free! Thank you for reading!
