Sacrifice Chapter 1, a megami tensei fanfic

"Sacrifice" - Chapter 1

"An Afternoon with Death"

The twist of fate this story details has very little in the way of saying good things about fate. Usually, one's fate is insubstantial, arriving only at the right moment to teach valuable life lessons that stand the test of time (or don't) and filling one's heart with purpose. This particular fate, however, happened to one who was just 6 years old, incapable of defining his existence in such a way. He did not have all that much say in what his fate was, either- instead, Minato Arisato's life was, with or without his consent, offered.

It was a pleasant spring afternoon in front of Iwatodai elementary school, with students, short and tall, exiting excitedly. Another day of boredom had suddenly turned into a space of infinite possibilities. Some decided to go to the arcade, others decided they would go to the playground, and yet others merely followed their friends to wherever they happened to be going. There was one boy, however, who did not share any of these traits. He did not spend time with his friends today.

His youthful features were graced with a small smile, and his body was robed in a black vest and a white undershirt, followed by mildly dressy black pants and dress shoes. Behind him was a dark blue backpack, just his size, filled with as little in the way of contents as he could get away with. Equally dark blue was his hair, done in a way that sat on his head comfortably short.

Minato Arisato was excited, because today was one of the few and sporadic days his parents were home for the day. Usually when he went home from school, the house was largely empty, and he fed himself until they came back sometime after eight, wearied. They would give him his actual dinner, which they bought along the way, and go to bed. This had started with the advent of their new job- they worked eight to eight at a lab, at a location which Minato did not know (otherwise he might have gone there to visit after school sometimes).

Usually on days like that, Minato would wander around town, then take an extensive nap (by far his favorite activity). With the advent of bad weather, he would study, draw pictures, or write. Young Minato couldn't help but notice that this had been going on for a good three months- it was getting hard living without his parents, knowing they were going someplace they found so tiring.

They were home today, though. He considered running there.

The disappointment settled when he actually entered. The television was on in the living room, where he saw father, but mother was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she was at the store, perhaps in another room. Minato happily hopped onto the couch, but was not rewarded with the attention he desired- just a weak "Welcome home, Minato," a rather hearty yawn, followed by the television show continuing. Of course, despite having over 9,000 channels, there was nothing on... his father was just channel flipping uselessly, with a deadened look on his face.

Minato never found the television particularly satisfying, so, distractedly, he walked away from the couch. As he passed the bathroom, a form was carefully wielding a mascara brush, taking great care and making short, gentle sweeps. Minato found himself entranced with his mother for a moment... however, he was unnoticed, and he walked toward his room in dejection.

He would lay his backpack on the floor, hopping on and turning over on his bed, found sleep more satisfying than the presence of his parents.

The dreams would be, of course, times past where he actually enjoyed their presence... games they would play, laughter they would share... the enjoyment of each other's company. Happiness was paramount to these dreams. Just because times weren't as perfect back then didn't matter, because in his dreams, there was little except the pleasantness of perfection.

This dream was different, however. A foreboding feeling pervaded him, even as the baseball flew back and forth. His failure to find joy in it perturbed him. Then, he realized very quickly just why he felt that way.

Hidden just beneath the earth, buried, there was a round, metallic half-ball. Two holes were engraved on either side, eyes, and it looked almost like there was a point; a nose of a face. It was pointing in his direction. As the baseball fell into his glove... he approached it.

The world around him was suddenly surrounded by a horde of people he'd never met- they all had dazed looks on their faces, some even drooling in the infinite abyss of their minds. They scared him... but what scared him the most was that the ground beneath him was rocking, shaking. A hand would rise from the ground- a black, ethereal hand clawing upward. Minato looked toward his father- and his father was walking toward it. There was a smile on his face. "Don't worry, Minato... we must go, else they are doomed.."

He was running- it had a human-like appearance, but it was much bigger, and it was faceless. The black body was only altered by its skirt, sword, and the collection of white coffins with crosses on them, surrounding it like a shield. His parents were waving at him, smiling. "See you, Minato." They would say... before disappearing. Minato could remember nothing after that but the extreme shock... the jamming loneliness of the black and eternal nothing which he was now faced toward.

So he left them behind, forward into darkness.

He was awake with a start, tears crawling down his eyes, a paralysis having taken the gift of movement from him. He knew that his parents did not enjoy his company anymore. Neither did they enjoy the company of anyone else. One night, his parents had a visitor- an old friend to congratulate them on their new job just a few weeks after it had started. He was told, after they went to bed late chatting, to answer the door for his parents, and tell any visitors that they were working late, and wouldn't be back until 11.

"It's past visiting hours- we don't want to see anyone..." That's what they told him.

Minato, however, couldn't imagine life without the few friends he'd met at school. Neither, could he imagine life without wanting his parents. Conflict turned to action; and he decided he would do something about it.

Minato was not the type to sit down and accept a bad fate. The young boy had proved this on a number of occasions already- disobedience to his overly cruel teacher who decided to reprimand a student for something he did not do, numerous occasions where he stole items when he was three because he did not have them, numerous self-treated black eyes as he stood up to bullies, among other representationsof his inability to accept suffering of any sort.

It was with this in mind that he forced the remote out of his father's hands, quickly turning the television off. His father would find this shocking- the choking silence of his house had just been interrupted. Minato's arms crossed as he turned his body around to face his father, and with a scowl on his face he almost stated his case quite plainly.

At least he would have, had he not been interrupted by the plain fact that he heard his mother crying in the kitchen, her hands trembling on a phone, held tightly and close to her ear, followed by a shout of epic proportions when she dropped to the ground.

"No! Why...?"

Minato did not notice it in his hasty passage from bedroom to living room, but it was raining outside, as if the sky itself were moaning his situation. Was it because of the news, that grandfather had died? Though his parents tried to hide what death was from him, he was very aware of death's existence. Though he did not know about it until his mother broke the news, it was quite fitting, he decided. Death, though not well liked, was necessary for new beginnings. This profound fact seemed to be hardwired into Minato's brain.

They spent the remainder of an hour on his parent's bed, weeping and holding each other. It was the closest he'd felt to his parents in a long time. He told them about how lonely it had been, and how he was afraid he would never really hang out with them ever again. They were very sorry- they had forgotten all about their lives outside their work. Minato almost asked them to quit their work... but unfortunately, he knew that was impossible, as was asking them to be perfectly happy every time they came back from work. It seemed like nothing had changed.

So instead, he soaked up this collection of little moments... he ate a home-cooked meal, the first in a long time. His mother wasn't used to cooking, though she was very careful, and the food tasted better than anything they'd ever brought home (Minato attributed it to TLC). Dad played with him for the first time in 3 months. And that very night, the three of them did what Minato usually did when he got home: They all slept in the same bed.

It was a moment he would remember and cherish... for a very, very long time to come.

The next morning...

Minato's mother stared hard at the card she drew for the present spot of the standard three-card spread. This was, more than anything else, a reaffirmation that the Tarot really were all that she thought of them... for she had drawn the thirteenth card; Death. The card somehow comforted her.. making her believe there was a higher force there for her protection. So, she decided to place it in her purse.

The irony of this situation was striking- for the card, usually associated with the death required for something new to arrive, would instead be the death of her and her husband.