Author's Note:
Hello all! I'm here with a collaboration with the lovely Miss Ari Moriarty. After a considerable amount of mutual angsting over Minako/Persona 3 in general, we came up with this little idea that hopefully will turn out well.
Please enjoy, and it's always nice to hear a comment or two! :)
Unbound
"Your laughter in my head – I'm gonna have to block it out somehow to survive, 'cause those dreams are dead, but I'm alive."
- Jackson Browne, "I'm Alive"
One: Sacrifice
That morning, Junpei Iori crawled out of bed, pulled on his pants, and shivered. It was freezing inside, and he could see through the little window that there were snowflakes pouring down in the world outside, blanketing everything in a sheet of fuzzy white.
There was a red circle around the date on Junpei's wall calendar, and he winced as he read it off to himself.
"January sixteenth," he mumbled, frowning. "Happy fucking birthday to me. Damn, it's cold in here…"
He thought, momentarily, about calling up Yukari, Akihiko, or any of the guys just to see if they had plans for the day. He considered getting in touch with his cousins in Tokyo, or maybe even going for a job and checking into a few of the local restaurants and coffee shops, flaunting the fact that it was his birthday just to see if any of them would give him free stuff. In the end, nothing felt right. He couldn't convince himself to get really excited about or look forward to any of it.
Forget it, he thought, pulling his pants back off and shuffling back into bed. He threw the covers over his head, snuggled down as far as he could, trying to shut out the sound of the pretty little droplets of snow turning into water as they spattered against the windowpanes.
"Fuck off," he told them, before shutting his eyes and wiling himself back to sleep. After all, he asked himself, if a guy can't sleep in and blow off the world on his own birthday, then what's the day even for?
It didn't take long for him to pass out again. The next time he opened his eyes, he could tell that he was dreaming. The whole world had changed color, and was now indescribably tinged with blue.
"Oh," he muttered. "Uh. Wait, really?"
Junpei blinked a few times, shook his head in an effort to clear it, and gazed around the Velvet Room. Igor, the Velvet Room's resident creepy goon, gazed back with calculated interest, as did Theodore, one of the Velvet Room assistants or attendants, or whatever.
For a second, Junpei was pretty sure that he was having a nightmare. He'd never been to the Velvet Room in his dreams before, but he'd certainly thought about the place enough, ever since he and the rest of what had once been SEES had encountered it at the miserable end of what had once been an exciting and heroic mission to save the world. He didn't like to think about any of that now.
Maybe I shouldn't try not to think about it, he told himself. That's, uh…what's that called? Oh, yeah, suppressing. I'm suppressing memories, maybe. When you do that, you end up having crazy bad dreams. Who was it who told me, that, Mitsuru-senpai? Yeah, probably. That's the kind of thing she'd maybe care about, I guess.
"Welcome," murmured Igor, "to the Velvet Room. It has been quite some time."
"No kidding," muttered Junpei. "So…hi, I guess. Uh, what's up?"
Theodore glanced upwards at the ceiling for a moment. Junpei raised an eyebrow at him, and suddenly Theodore looked slightly sheepish.
"Ah," he said, nodding quickly. "Forgive me, I misunderstood you. The colloquial phrase 'What's up,' is as if to say 'what is happening,' or 'what seems to be the trouble?' Your human phrases and grammatical structure are truly fascinating at times…nonsensical, and yet quaint. Yes, fascinating!"
"Right." Junpei wasn't sure what to make of that.
"You seem uncertain," remarked Igor. "Please, don't be concerned. In the real world, you are still asleep. I have brought you here within your dreams."
"We have some very important information to relate to you," agreed Theodore. "Information concerning one of our most valued guests…"
For a moment, Theodore's eyes glazed over slightly, and a nostalgic, almost saddened expression came over his face. There was something unsettling and out of place about that look, especially on the face of the weirdly robotic Theodore, who Junpei had never particularly l liked. Junpei had never been able to take Theodore really seriously, or even to connect him too much with the real world, probably because of the alien, kind of creepy way he got entranced by everything human and mundane. It felt wrong for Theodore to be sad. Hairs started standing up on the back of Junpei's neck.
"Yeah?" he asked. "What information? What guest? What are you-?"
"The information," murmured Igor, "concerns a certain Minako Arisato…a friend of yours, if I am not very much mistaken."
Junpei froze. Igor and Theodore were still watching him, and he was sure that Igor was still talking, but the name of Minako Arisato had sent something like an electric current ripping through his soul, and it was suddenly hot, uncomfortable, and hard to breathe in the usually pleasant and relaxing Velvet Room. He bit his lip and tried to regain some control of himself, but there was a laughing, brown-haired girl dancing through his head now, her red eyes glinting as she grinned teasingly at him. He closed his eyes and tried to shut her out, but she was still there, smiling behind his eyes and holding out her arms to him, offering hugs, comfort, courage, strength, and all of the things that he'd wished he could grow up to be after he'd saved the world and become the hero that he'd dreamt of since he was small.
Now the word "hero' made him feel sick inside. He'd learned the hard way that there was nothing magical about heroes. Heroes are just sacrifices, he muttered inside his head. They're just fucking casualties of war. We call them heroes 'cause it makes us feel better when we think about the fact that we pushed 'em over the edge, that's all it is. Heroes give up everything 'cause they wanna save the world. It's got nothing to do with us, right? It was their duty, or their mission, or whatever, or…there was nothing we coulda done, right? That's what we want to believe about heroes.
"What about Minako?" he asked, choking down the anger that was suddenly taking her place in the back of his memory.
Igor and Theodore exchanged a look. Theodore nodded once.
"It appears," he told Junpei, "that circumstances have changed, unexpectedly. If my calculations are correct, then there is…an opportunity, if you will."
Junpei didn't say anything. After waiting expectantly for a moment, Theodore shrugged, and continued.
"We have determined a way," he said, "of creating what is perhaps an even better and more powerful seal against the power of Nyx."
Junpei's mouth fell open. "Wha…wait, you what?" he asked. "A better seal? What's that supposed to mean? Like, a new seal? Does that mean that-?"
Igor nodded "The current seal, formed of the soul of our former guest," he intoned, "might be released from its servitude and set free again in the human world. Under the proper conditions, your friend could be returned to you."
Junpei swallowed hard. "I don't get it," he mumbled. "You're telling me that she's still alive? That we can...that we can get her out of that thing? Where the hell was this a year ago? Forget that, what do we do? How do we make the new seal? What are you waiting for? Spill it, already!"
For some reason, Igor looked amused. He chuckled, his eyes glinting, and Junpei wanted to strangle him.
"It's not that simple, I'm afraid," said Theodore, shaking his head. "The creation of a new seal requires a sacrifice. There isn't any other way."
He looked genuinely apologetic, and Junpei took a moment to reign in some of the strange combination of panic and enthusiasm that had been filling him up every since Igor's words had really hit home.
A sacrifice, huh? he thought. So, another hero. Somebody's gotta take her place, is that how this is gonna work? That's not any better, really. Who'd go and do something like that? Sure, we may be saviors of the universe, but…that's asking a little much.
"Ah, by the way," remarked Igor casually, as Junpei stewed. "I understand that today is the day on which you were born. January sixteenth, isn't it?"
Junpei was surprised. "Hey," he asked, "how'd you know?"
Theodore smiled. "It is my duty, of course, to keep careful and accurate records of the lives and inner psychological workings of every guest," he said, looking proud. "I should have mentioned it before. Forgive my failure, please. Oh…what is it that one says on the celebration of a day of birth? Oh, I remember! It is 'Happy Birth-day,' correct?"
Theodore was beaming at him. Junpei shrugged. "Yeah, thanks," he muttered. He remembered waking up that morning and looking at the calendar, realizing what day it was and feeling himself deflate like a broken balloon when he thought about how happy people's birthdays were supposed to be. He was supposed to wake up on his birthday and dance around like a kid on Christmas, rush out into the street and buy himself something fatty and expensive to eat just to celebrate the fact that he was alive. Just a couple of years ago, his birthday had been a crazy binge of overeating and staying up too late, hanging out and lounging around, loving and experiencing youth by playing out in the cold without a jacket on like the invincible superman he'd been sure he was. His friends had all been there, then, and it had meant something special to him, something unnamed and irreplaceable just to have all those crazy kids to celebrate his birthday with. It had felt, then, like there was going to be a future.
Now, though, it didn't matter anymore. The future was a let-down, because after the battle with Nyx, and then the battle with Erebus, and then the battle he'd been fighting ever since just with himself, he'd realized something hard, ugly, and sickeningly real. Tomorrow was a bust, and always would be, because he'd saved the world from certain destruction and it didn't feel good. There had been someone he'd wanted to spend some future with, and he'd had to give her away. Going on from there was just going through the motions. No matter how many lives he'd saved, and no matter how many people suddenly had birthdays who wouldn't have had them if he'd never stepped in, he didn't care too much about the future anymore. Where was there left to go?
Again, the image of Minako, cheerful and effervescent, went swirling through his head. She'd been there, and then she'd been gone, just like the snow that melted against the window as soon as it had made its pretty presence known.
"A sacrifice, huh?" he asked, biting his lip. "Okay, sure. Tell me more."
