10.
3.21.16
Mitsuru crept out of bed, pulling on her light, kimono-like robe. A crystal pitcher stood on her dresser, and she poured herself a tall glass, knocking back half of it in one shot. It was still cold enough to leave her throat aching. She glanced at the clock - quarter to three - then at the nearest outlet. There was a thin, spider-leg trickle of blood. Dragging her disheveled hair out of her face, she stepped onto the balcony. There was no moon, no breeze, the air as cold and heavy as a fog. She retreated inside, walking through her bedroom, into the next room over, the study. After four hours of trying, she still hadn't managed to sleep. Surely there must be a better use of her time.
Her argument with Yukari had scattered her thoughts; the binder she'd been studying still lay open on her desk. Setting her glass on a marble coaster, she sat, turned on the desk lamp, and began to reread. Phrases jumped out at her, making little impression on her tired mind.
...due to her negligence, Amada was able to force a confrontation...no choice but to obliterate him...Though we suffer the loss of Kala-Nemi, enough Personas remain...
Mitsuru covered her face with both hands, then kneaded the corners of her eyes with slow, circular motions. She'd done with crying. All her crying had changed nothing. She could cry later, if she must. She just had to get through this moment. Presently she'd be able to keep reading.
There was a knock at the door, the one that opened onto the hallway. Somehow they always knew when she was awake. Mitsuru sat up, folding the front of her robe closer to her throat, then tapped the small remote that unlocked the door. "Enter."
One of her employees stepped in. "Ms. Kirijo."
"Yes?"
"I have new information from - " He gave a strange, strangled cry and reeled back, face parallel with the ceiling. As she rose, Mitsuru heard a sudden soft snap, and then the man's head flopped from the side, loose on the hinge of his broken neck. He stumbled forward and fell limply to the floor, shoved out of the way by his assailant.
"Was that another one of those creatures? I'm surprised he didn't hear me," the arrival said. He stood in the doorway, not approaching, grim and uncertain. After he'd killed one of her employees, he seemed at a loss what to say. But she saw that his black fists were clenched.
Mitsuru made herself speak, though she was afraid any movement would cause him to attack. She held on to the edge of her desk. "You shouldn't be here."
"That's unimportant," the man shot back. With a quick decision, he stepped into the room and closed the door. "I don't know why you're doing this. No reason is good enough." He came halfway across the room, falling silent, waiting for her answer. So often, she'd had an answer.
Her voice was heavy, taut with fear. "You're here to stop me?"
"No one has a better right!" He pulled his own voice back from a shout. "I don't say that as your - friend, or even your former friend, or anything else. I say that because I'm the last person alive who really knows you."
Mitsuru looked away. She remembered Yukari's words, that she was always looking away. She managed to lift her eyes to him again.
For the first time, she saw hesitation in his face. "Why are you cowering?" he demanded. "You've never cowered in your life. Let alone from me," he added, rather bitter.
She lifted her hand, extending it towards him, then let it drop back to her side. "Aki."
He looked at her hand, then up at her face. "You never used to call me 'Aki' either. Always my full name."
The only change in her expression was that she was more tired. "I always wanted to."
He shifted his weight. "...Why did you send your men after me? You could have taken me out yourself." His eyes narrowed. "I didn't think you'd delegate a favor to a friend."
She flinched at the sarcasm. "I didn't want to hurt you, but -" She broke off.
He was silent a long moment. "What's going on? Why are you cringing like this?" He pressed his lips together, obviously torn between two lines of thought. Almost reluctantly, he asked, "Are you in danger?"
Mitsuru crossed her arms, but it was defensive, not commanding. "Would you help me if I were?"
"Mitsuru -" He took a step towards her, fists still clenched, worry around his eyes. "You didn't want to hurt me? So who gave the order? Since when have you let someone else lead you around?"
Mitsuru searched his eyes. Then she took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and opened her mouth to speak. A small cry stabbed the back of her throat, she flinched again, and brought her hands to her face. "Just - leave. Before I call someone."
She didn't cry. It was merely a shield to hide behind, and she waited for him to go. For several moments, she didn't hear anything. Then she felt the soft brush of his fingers against the back of her hand, as if to pull them away from her face. She felt the air shift as he drew his hand quickly back, turned, and left.
3.21.16
Well now...this is intriguing.
The King of the TV World had seen many strange things: bizarre Shadows...strip clubs made from the human brain...college parties. He had no precise idea where he was, yet he didn't feel particularly alarmed.
He hadn't been perturbed when he'd seen the light shining through the electrical outlet in his room at The Dorm. He'd been half awake, but even at his most alert, he probably wouldn't have hesitated long before approaching it. He had crept out of his beanbag chair, padded across the room, and placed his hand to the light.
The next thing he knew, he was - here.
Teddie turned in a slow circle. The sky was a warm gold, half covered with sudsy clouds. A balmy, fragrant wind blew across him, sending the tall sprays of flowers into a rocking dance. The flowers were white and six-petaled.
The inhuman part of him told him that someone else was in these meadows, out of sight. In a bit, he'd go and look for her.
3.21.16
Naoto stretched before she was entirely awake, her lower back stiff. She blinked, now aware of the soft tattoo of rain on the roof. Her eyes met a gray ceiling - yes, the hotel. She rolled over to face the other bed, wariness making her blush for a moment.
Even in the dim light, she could see that Kanji was face-down in his pillow, one hand dangling to the floor, dead asleep. She smiled, glad he'd gotten some rest. When she'd come in last night, she'd been able to tell he wasn't sleeping, (the fact that he'd been hardly breathing was a giveaway) and she somehow hadn't felt comfortable dropping off while he was still awake. It wasn't that she didn't trust him, it was just...what if she'd fallen asleep and he'd rolled over and watched her? Not that she thought he would, but what if he did?
As she was doing now. Naoto sat up and looked at her watch. Quarter after four. Perfect. She silently made her way to the diminutive bathroom to take a cold shower. Infiltrating the heart of the Kirijo Group wouldn't be easy, and she'd take every advantage. Showers always helped.
She was fixing her tie when she walked back in. Kanji snorted and rolled onto his back. Then his eyes focused, he saw her, and he went perfectly still, eyes round.
Naoto's brows angled down. She'd never understood why she sometimes upset Kanji. She'd clearly done something, inadvertently insulted him, created some bad impression, but it must have been right around their first meeting; Kanji had acted odd around her for as long as she'd known him. Still, he was a good friend, she knew she could rely on his support in this, so she'd overlook his behavior. She sat on the edge of her bed, reaching to pull on her shin-high boots. "Good morning, Kanji-kun. You should get ready. We'll want to go soon. Did you sleep well?"
Kanji cleared his throat. His answer was rather suave, for him. "Just fine. You?"
"Yes, thank you." She smoothed her trouser legs over her boots. All the preparation Kanji seemed to require was to sit up, kick off the cover, run his hands through his hair, and find his boots.
"So what'd you learn last night?" He reached down under the bed, coming back with one shoe.
"I saw no sign of our pursuit. And I made contact with Souji and Yosuke, though I'll go into that more when the others are here. Speaking of which, I'll make sure they're awake."
It was still dark and drizzly when she went outside, taking the few steps to the other door and knocking. She thought she heard a groan, then Chie saying something, then some fumbling at the door. And then the door opened on Yukiko's bleary face, her hair disheveled.
"Come on, Yukiko," Chie was saying. "We don't have all the time in the world." She was already dressed, hair combed, greaves strapped on. For the first time, Naoto noticed that she had several bright stickers stuck on the left greave. She wondered if Chie's leg still hurt.
Muttering something about this hotel having "as much ambiance as a school locker", Yukiko shambled towards the bathroom as Naoto stepped in and closed the door. "She had a bad night," Chie said, nodding towards the bathroom. "Don't blame her, these beds are all lumps." She caught Naoto's gaze and raised her eyebrow. "So, did you sleep...well?"
Naoto frowned at the careful tone in her friend's voice. "Yes, I did."
Chie nodded and shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, I thought so. I mean, I guess you can trust Kanji-kun. Now, if it'd been Yosuke - that jerk - I would've been more worried about you."
Naoto knew she was blushing like a begonia. "You don't have to worry about that!" She turned around, paced to the door, then felt composed enough to face her friend again. "Chie, you must understand, I am on a job. Common modes of...conventionality don't necessarily apply."
"I get that," Chie said quickly. "I just felt - you know." She looked part amused, part embarrassed. "You and Kanji - Never mind, I have no clue what I'm talking about."
"I am on a job, not a vacation. Thus, sleeping arrangements are determined by safety and efficiency, nothing else. It has nothing to do with Kanji," Naoto argued, speaking honestly but not steadily. "That is - I would have shared a room with Yosuke had the need arisen. Or Souji. Or -" She broke off. "...I...would have gotten another room for Teddie."
"Okay, okay! I understand. In fact I - I really admire you for that, you know?" Chie smiled sheepishly. "Me, I'd be spazzing out. 'Oh no, there's a guy in this room, what if something happens?' I wish I could keep my cool like you. It's amazing."
"Hm," Naoto said. It was unfortunate that praise so often made her feel like some kind of oddity.
They grabbed a breakfast they could eat while walking and made their way to the docks, talking as they went. The rain had finally dissipated.
"So we've shaken the people who were following us?" Chie said. "Go us."
"For now," Yukiko said. "It sounds as though they're good at keeping track of us."
"What did our senpai say?" Kanji asked, still using the old honorific for his upperclassmen.
Naoto took a tentative sip of her tea, then a longer one. "Teddie's missing." The girls' eyes widened, and Kanji winced. "We should assume he's in the hands of the enemy. Souji and Yosuke spent all of yesterday looking for him, even going into the TV World. I told them to meet us on Yakushima as soon as possible." She fell silent. According to her contacts, Mitsuru Kirijo had holed herself up in her island home. Just as she had last month, Naoto felt she had to strike at the heart of the issue - the Kirijo Group itself. This time, she would be certain it yielded information.
Even though she was almost certain the Kirijo Group was her enemy.
But Amada, Yamagishi, Sanada, they were Mitsuru Kirijo's old dormmates. Why does she want to harm them? At the very least, it seems she wants to control us. How did she find out about us eight? Where has she hidden Rise-chan?
"Did the boys receive any flowers?" Yukiko asked.
"No, they didn't know anything about them."
"It's probably only a matter of time before Kampe or someone catches up to them," Chie said grimly. "They are too damn efficient in that group."
"Break a few legs and see how efficient they are then," Kanji said, looking ahead both figuratively and literally.
"Do you think we'll be facing more of those Persona robots?" Chie wondered. "Or maybe those bloodless, gutless things? Or actual humans? Well, whoever they are, they'll get what's coming to them." Out of nowhere, she did a high kick. "Hwa taiiii!"
The four of them paused in the middle of a square. Several early commuters slowed down to stare at Chie.
"Heh," she said, bright red. "Heh heh. Let's...walk."
3.21.16
Rise closed her eyes, opening her mind to Kanzeon. Someone was approaching her cell. Not a human, she could sense that instantly. And not a Shadow. She hadn't felt a single Shadow for four years now. The ghosts' essences were harder to perceive, being human, but lacking in some way Rise couldn't define. She felt something crucial, something deeply familiar was absent in each of them.
But she didn't sense a ghost either. The presence was like a Shadow or a Persona, held a trace of humanity, but also had the implacability of clockwork. One of those dolls, huh? Are the ghosts feeling too guilty to starve me now? Going to get a robot to do their dirty work?
She'd only seen one automaton so far, made to resemble a young woman with a long green braid. To Rise's amazement, the doll had a Persona, a white, cybernetic peacock named Argos: an artificial tracking Persona along the lines of Kanzeon or Fuuka's Juno. Curious and unable to hide it, Rise had allowed them to test Argos against Kanzeon. Argos had been nearly blind in comparison, unable to track movement beyond a twenty meter radius. Rise hadn't thought much of the doll and hadn't been afraid to say so.
"Take her away," one of the ghosts had said, gesturing to the robot. "Send her back to the lab."
"Why does your doll look like a hot girl?" Rise had taunted. "You're all really lonely, aren't you?"
She hadn't been fed in seven hours.
Now she sensed a robot halt in front of her door. There was a series of mechanized beeps, the clank of gears and weights shifting, and then the door to her cell swung open, offering a shaft of light across the darkness. The robot's blonde hair fell to her chin, her blue eyes glowing faintly. "Are you Rise-san?"
Rise raised her eyebrows, not even noticing the honorific. The green-haired robot hadn't spoken at all. This automaton's voice was very clear, less inflected than a human's. "Shouldn't you already know?" Rise said. "You've kept me here long enough to know my name. And I'm not telling you anything, so you might as well leave."
The robot tipped her head - a small movement that struck Rise as unabashedly human. Then she raised her arm and the tapered tips of her fingers fell away to reveal five gun barrels.
3.21.16
The robot tapped softly down the halls of the Kirijos' Yakushima residence, making her way to Mitsuru Kirijo's suite, the fine wood doors that led to the study. She was stopped by two bodyguards, who had only been placed there that morning.
"Excuse me," the robot, she of the Persona Kampe, said. "I request permission to enter."
"Ms. Kirijo gave orders not to be disturbed," said one of the bodyguards. "You'll have to wait.'
There was a faint whirring as Kampe processed this, reshuffled her orders. "She wished to know the status of the Persona-users. It has been confirmed that another has left this life."