A/N - This is a fanfiction focused on Naoto Shirogane, with the Persona 4 events told from their point of view. However we will be throwing in a few differences and twists and turns along the way! Here they identify as androgyne, therefore they/them/themselves pronouns are used.

Naoto has always been a favorite character of mine, so it will be interesting to go into their point of view with this story!

Also, don't forget to drop by with a review, favorite and follow! It really makes my day!

Warning: This story deals with some dark themes, including gender dysphoria, self harm and mental illness.

"As a person, I have to claim my persona as my own. If I don't, my clone will do it for me."
― Jarod Kintz

A brilliant burst of lightning turned the world white; a hot brightness burned Naoto's eyes, and they stumbled back, dark spots dancing before their muddled vision. Their heart was practically pounding in their ears; blood roaring, thunder rippling high overhead, the keening scream of the wind rattling the dusty panes of the roof. Naoto swallowed a small cry. They wished nothing more than to call for their mother, to feel her gentle caress, the soft cradle of her arms and the warmth of her stirring breath.

…But mother was gone.

Naoto was alone.

Bitterness swirled in their gut, an ebbing frustration pulsing like a heartbeat through their veins. Why did she have to leave…? Where had she gone…? The eight year old child had constantly asked around, had questioned and quizzed and interviewed practically everyone in the entire city – and yet all had given them the same answer, a hushed, awkward, "oh honey, I'm not sure," or a sharp, "now isn't that something you should be asking your father about?"

Of course I've already asked him, they thought, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And as if he'll ever give me a straight answer in reply.

"Naoto?" The voice startled them. Naoto twisted around, blue eyes wide, heart thumping, anticipation coiling tight around their chest until they felt like they couldn't breathe. Mother…?

But realization swamped them like a heavy blanket. The voice was none other than Aiya's. They settled, muscles relaxing, but fists never quite uncurling.

"I'm here," they yelled back, immediately taking a seat at their desk and pretending to scrawl through a few scattered pages of homework. Sure enough the heavy thumping of feet signaled Aiya's approach. Naoto buried their head deeper into the work, biting hard on their pencil, until they felt the wood crack beneath their teeth.

The door cracked open, a sliver of light slicing through the darkness of the room. A head peeked around the corner; dark hair rolled into an eloquent bun, hazel eyes as silver as the waxing moon, skin as clean and smooth as a newborn child's. No wonder Ryuuji fell in love with her, the townspeople had said, voices quiet with awe. No wonder Ryuuji took her as his bride.

Aiya's so pretty, Aiya's so wonderful, why aren't you more grateful for her, Naoto? Your family'd be in the dumps by now if it weren't for Aiya! Aiya this, Aiya that…

"Hey, Naoto." The voice was sweet, but clipped, a cool, icy undertone chilling the seemingly friendly greeting. The door opened even wider, a pallid, artificial light pouring across the carpet. Her lean, slim figure stood silhouetted in the doorway, and Naoto flinched, averting their gaze and digging deeper into their work. "Dinner's ready."

12 x 13 is…no, that can't be right…12 x 13, x 14…ugh! 12 x 12 is 24 so –

Usually these equations were nothing more than a breeze – an easy challenge assigned by teachers attempting to keep up with their intelligence – but now, under the piercing eyes of Aiya, the gaze burning deep into their skin, their thoughts turned to a muddled mush, nausea built up like bile in their throat, fear pummeled the air from their chest –

A hand slammed down on their desk. Naoto swallowed, refusing to meet the pointed silver gaze they knew was towering over them. When she spoke, her voice was as slick and sweet as honey, but there was an undertone only Naoto could catch, a swirling bitterness that frightened them to their very core.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Naoto," she sighed, exasperation edging her soft tone. "Dinner's ready. I think it's time you take a break from –" her gaze flickered to the scrambled homework, sheets of unfinished mathematics, unsolved equations and scrawled essays littering the desk.

Suddenly silver eyes narrowed. Before Naoto could stop her, a hand snatched out and grasped a piece of paper. Naoto realized what it was at the last possible moment. "Stop-!" they said, but too late, it was already scrunched in Aiya's fists, her gaze pointedly fixed upon the fine black lettering.

"Just as I thought." The scorn in her voice was enough to make Naoto flinch. She flipped the paper around, so the small child could see the faded documents, the written report on the strange disappearance of their mother. "Oh, Naoto. How many times must I tell you…" A smooth hand gently laid upon their shoulder. "She's not coming back. You might as well give up."

"Mother wouldn't just leave!" The words left their lips before they could stop it. Immediately Naoto averted their gaze once more, looking deeper into their math work, reciting the same unsolved equations over and over until the questions felt like mush in their mind. "I…I know she wouldn't," they added, quieter this time, swallowing the painful lump that had formed in their throat.

An eerie quiet fell upon the room like a suffocating blanket. It was Aiya who soon broke it, the wrinkled paper still crunched firmly in her hands, lips pursed and brow furrowed. "Rummaging through your father's files again, hm…? This is top secret information, you know. Little girls shouldn't be stealing from daddy's brief case."

And there it was. The two words that rocked Naoto to their core, that sent a wave of crippling sickness crashing over their stomach. Little girl. And Aiya knew this, she saw the flash of anxiety and disgust in their eyes, she didn't miss the small, fleeting beat of raw vulnerability, crossing their countenance like a mere passing shadow.

It was gone in a second. Naoto had always been adept at hiding how they really felt. But inside, deep in their gut, the strange, hazy feelings lurked, of disgust and confusion and even a glimmering spark of rage, at the world, at what society said they were, at their mother's disappearance –

And mostly at Aiya.

"I'll find her." Foolish bravery lent them a small serving of courage. Naoto stood up, chair shoved back, hands planted firmly on their desk. And this time they met Aiya's gaze, silver meeting an icy blue. "I don't care what you say, or what dad says…I'm going to become a detective. I'm going to find my mother, and I'll bring her back, and make everything right again!"

The smallest of smiles wormed its way onto Aiya's luscious lips. "Oh?" she murmured, feigning a slight interest as she waved the paper tauntingly before Naoto. "Big words for one so small. What even makes you think that your father would want to see Michiko again? She abandoned both of you, the whore. She's probably out there right now, reveling in her newfound freedom, sleeping her way into a profit –"

"It can't be any worse than you." More foolish bravery, and Naoto didn't care anymore, they just wanted to make Aiya hurt, to make her pay for the pain she'd caused their family. "I know father doesn't truly love you. Mother disappeared, and he was alone, and so comes along the rich, pretty beauty of Aiya, a widow living off her husband's will, in a mansion far too big for her lonely self." Aiya's eyes widened. "But I hear him…at night," Naoto continued on, all their frustrated anger pouring out, all these past few months of pain finally finding an outlet. "I hear him whisper mother's name in his sleep. I see the faraway look in his eyes when he stares at you." A rattling breath escaped Naoto's lungs. "Don't lie to yourself. You know it too."

There was a sharp pain on Naoto's cheek; a loud slap echoed throughout the room, a red hot numbness spread across their face, blue eyes stretched wide with confusion and pain.

There Aiya stood, breathing heavily, rage sparking like vivid flames across her face. The files had been thrown roughly to the ground; the back of her hand was red, a mark staining polished white skin where she'd just hit Naoto hard.

"…Aiya? Naoto?"

Aiya spun around. A tall figure stood shadowed in the waning light of the doorway, his brow furrowed, uncertainty scrawled across his features.

"A…Ah, Ryuuji." At once she'd flung an arm around his broad shoulders, planting a soft kiss to his stubbled cheek."How was work, hun? Good day at the office?"

"Yeah, it was fine," he murmured, and he quickly threw a glance at Naoto, who looked away. "Is…everything alright here?"

"Of course," Aiya quickly purred. "We're fine. Aren't we, Naoto?"

Naoto didn't reply. Then, in a rather uncharacteristically small voice, they murmured, "…yeah. I'm okay."

Ryuuji offered a weak comment, but Naoto didn't hear, choosing instead to pour once again over their math report. Aiya's babble continued on, a constant, droning background noise, and soon darkness once again had enveloped Naoto's room, the door closing with a sharp bang.

…3. 2. 1.

And just like clockwork, the voices began once more, initiated by Aiya as usual. Naoto knew she wanted them to hear; she wanted them to notice the power her words waived over Ryuuji, to see that she could do whatever she wanted with him.

"That girl," Aiya sighed, a false concern lacing her tone, "honestly, she's a troublesome sort."

"Now, now. You know Michiko's disappearance has been tough on her. She needs time to adjust – that's all."

"But I'm afraid she needs…special care." Naoto's hand clenched harder around their pencil. "Listen, Ryuuji…don't you want us to enjoy these months? We're newlywed's, for God's sake! And yet all Naoto harps on about is detective work this, investigation that!"

"Detectives have run in our family for generations."

"But she's a girl, though you'd hardly think so, with the way she dresses." There was a pregnant pause. Then, "how about we send her to your dad's? Just for a month or so, mind you. Maybe some time away will do her good."

"To dad's…ah, I don't know, he's…well, he's getting on in his years."

"All the more reason to give him Naoto for a bit. Some young blood would do him good! So...what do you say?"

Naoto knew the answer before it even left Ryuuji's lips. "Well…okay. Just for a month or two." Another pause. "Maybe it'll help with her grief."

Naoto didn't need to hear anymore. They didn't want to. They slammed closed their book, swept up an armful of ragged papers, and collapsed heavily onto their bed, savoring the comfy squish of the mattress beneath their weight.

He's really doing it. He's sending me away.

Bitterness swirled uncomfortably in their gut. Why were they surprised? Of course he would. Aiya was all that mattered in his life now.

Another whip of thunder cracked overhead. This time Naoto didn't jump. In the blinding white flash of lightning that lit up the room, Naoto glimpsed some of the faded pictures and writing on the report.

Ms Michiko Shirogane, wife of the infamous detective Ryuuji Shirogane, disappeared on a Friday, after dropping her only child Naoto off at school. Bank accounts remain untouched, and police are stumped by this peculiar mystery, supposedly instigated by a doting wife and a happy mother.

But Naoto knew the truth. Michiko had been anything but happy.

Another blinding flash of lightning. Blue eyes fell upon the last reported sighting.

Yasoinaba train station, Inaba.

7 Years Later

Reflected in the mirror stood a rather small teen, dark blue hair ruffled and cropped short, icy eyes as dark and pallid as ever. Wearing a cobalt uniform, Naoto felt satisfied that they looked every bit a 'detective' as they could.

"So. First day on the job, eh?"

"Oh, grampa."

A withered old man appeared beside the mirror before them, thick, bushy eyebrows weighing heavily down upon tired grey eyes. Despite his many wrinkles, a smile adorned his features, and warmth seemed to radiate from his very countenance. "You look fine, Naoto. So very fine, indeed."

Naoto dipped their head respectfully, a small smile playing on their lips. "Thank you, grampa. I couldn't have done it without your help."

He let out a raspy chuckle, patting Naoto's shoulder with one calloused, rough hand. Naoto closed their eyes, hoping to revel in this warm, friendly moment, and for a brief moment they wished that they didn't have to leave, that they could stay by grampa's side for a long, long time more.

…But no. This was their destiny. Determination coiled in their stomach. They'd rise to meet it, no matter what anyone else said.

"Well, we better get going then." He seemed to understand their nervousness; grampa had always been so very kind and patient, the only accepting presence they'd ever known in their life. But even now, as he cheered them towards their dreams, Naoto could almost swear that a glimmer of sadness glittered in his deep grey eyes.

They swallowed, and in a rare show of emotion leaned closer to their caregiver. "I'll be fine," they murmured, blinking kindly at the tired old man; "I promise."

The train station was a constant bustling of activity; the crowds were swarming, parents calling goodbye to their young ones, family members hugging as they went their separate ways, couples caught in a warm embrace before reluctantly waving goodbye. The hot smell of steamed pork buns carried over on a drifting spring breeze; Naoto's stomach rumbled at the very thought of sinking their teeth into warm, chewy meat, but the sudden chugging of the engine halted them from their thoughts. Around the bend swerved the train, steam puffing from its chimney, yellowed lights bursting through the gaping darkness of the tunnel.

It slowly chugged to a halt, its breaks squealing as it did so. Naoto had to swallow down their nervousness as the glass doors slipped open, revealing dusty seats and narrow corridors inside, as another heap of passengers poured out.

"This is it," they murmured, and they were surprised at the heavy feeling of anxiety settling in their stomach. Naoto forced themselves to relax. No, they wouldn't let grampa see their reluctance, that was not how detectives were supposed to act, not what they were supposed to feel –

"It's okay." His kind voice jolted them from their thoughts. "Naoto, did I ever tell you about my first day on the job? I was practically shaking in my boots! And did you know that I horribly messed up my first case? The entire department was furious with me!"

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" Naoto replied, the slightest twinge of humor in their voice. He chucked, shoving the young teen good-naturedly.

"My point is, ya smart aleck, we all make mistakes." His gaze softened. "Naoto, you're fifteen years old. You hail from the greatest family of detectives known to Japan. That's a lot of pressure to do well now, isn't it?"

"I'll solve the case," Naoto said firmly. "I know I will. I'll find out exactly who's instigating those murders."

"And I've no doubt you will either. But I just want you to know that, well…whatever happens. I'm proud of you. Remember that, alright?"

Naoto blinked, surprised at the rare flash of sincerity displayed by their usually stoic grandfather. At once they relaxed, muscles uncoiling, a twitch of a smile pulling at the edges of their lips. "I know, grampa. I'll make you proud."

Would all passengers please board the train departing for Yasoinaba Station. I repeat, would all passengers…

"Well?" Grampa's eyes glittered with mirth. "That's your call."

Naoto nodded. Finally. There'd be no going back from this point on.

Time seemed to slow as Naoto approached the boarding station. Grampa flashed their ticket, and soon Naoto was alone, their steps unusually solemn and heavy. At the very top of the stairs they turned, and caught sight of grampa waving merrily down below. They smiled, and waved in return.

"Naoto!" As the doors began to slide shut, grampa called out once more; "Naoto, I'm not going to lie, the path you walk won't be easy. But I know you can do it! You've got the blood of ol' Aikawa here running through your veins! You show them how a real detective does it!"

And suddenly, something blue spun towards Naoto; reaching out their arms, they just managed to catch it, right before the doors snapped closed with a resounding clang. Outside the station began to move, the floor rumbling beneath Naoto's feet, and a strained chugging resumed as the train slipped forward.

Naoto clung close to the doors, watching as grampa slid away, waving all the while, and they waved back, they waved until darkness swallowed the carriage and grampa disappeared into the distance.

With a small sigh, Naoto slumped back against the nearest seat, suddenly feeling a crippling exhaustion grabbing at their muscles. Glancing down at their hands, Naoto finally realized what grampa had thrown at them – a blue cap, as dark as their cobalt uniform.

Grampa's hat…

Outside, darkness rolled by as the train passed through the bowels of a tunnel. A light flickered in their carriage, and the quiet murmuring of the passengers was already lulling Naoto into a sleepy daze. Swallowing a small yawn, the young detective settled back against their seat, reached into their satchel and pulled out a messy wad of papers and reports.

Naoto wasn't interested in the murder reports, the witnesses and the time of death and the inconsistencies…No. Flicking through the dozens upon dozens of files, finally Naoto seemed to find the paper they'd been looking for.

Resting the other files down, they looked hard at the small report, the report that was their only clue in finding their mother.

Last sighting – Inaba.

That's where they were going now.

Excitement trilled through Naoto's veins. Maybe now, after all this time, they could work on solving the mystery surrounding their mother's disappearance.

"You'll never find her," Aiya had snapped – but she was wrong. Naoto clenched the paper hard in their hands, determination flaring deep in their chest. Dead or alive, Naoto would find their mother. They'd find her…and solve the mystery, once and for all.

Light flittered through the windows as the train emerged into the open. Wide, sweeping pastures rolled past, dotted with cows and woolly sheep, hills silhouetted against the distant rising sun. A blue sky stretched high overhead, signaling many warm and hope filled days to come.

I promise you, grampa, Naoto thought, as they fitted the blue cap on their head; I'll make you proud.