.

.

.

All the way from hell
Climbing up and out a well, blood sells
So I cut my fucking neck and sold myself to the prince of darkness

It's seeming like a dream and shit
But trust me, you ain't freeing shit
You a motherfucking slave like me and $lick

- $uicideboy$, Where's Your God?


6 / 7 / 2016

So the wretch has accepted his own wretchedness!

"Adam!"

Adam HaRishon rears his head backwards and screams to the skies a word I literally do not understand in the slightest; but the closest approximation to a pronounciation I can fathom is Sukukaja.

Suddenly a green light flares over the both of us for just an instant and all of a sudden I'm able to breathe again. When Victory Cry heals the missing flesh and repairs every inch of my body that'd been splintered apart, I realize just how much I'm able to see. I can see the Biker's flaming wheels kicking up individual bits of rock and gravel. I can see Maruki's terrified expression, the cat wrapped in a cloud as it reverts to a form with which it can fight; I can hear the Biker cackle madly, but his laughter is slowed, the whole world has slowed down to almost a trickle—

—but I can move just fine.

"Satanael!"

BLAM.

The explosion lands right below the hind wheel of the Hell Biker's ride, sending it careening through the air; thankfully both Maruki and the cat manage to get out of dodge before it collides with either of them, and the Biker rolls and tumbles past but manages to return to an upright position somehow—throughout it all he'd never let go of his bike.

He lets out a cackle again, his tone alternating between enthralled and infuriated, as his bony jaws crack and creak to make a smile. To think the world shall be decided by fools such as yourselves. Come at me, then! Prove your willingness to achieve your heart's desire, Emancipator!

A revved-up bike would give a VROOM VROOM noise, I suppose, but whatever noise emerges from its engines then sounds like something a musician would compose were he to try and deliberately damn himself in the eyes of God for all eternity. The burning wheels melt down the gravel on the road as he charges at us with enough force to ram through ten skyscrapers before even remotely slowing down. Though the world is slowed the Biker continues rushing faster, ever faster, as though breathing through whatever spatial/temporal barrier's slowing it down, and in those precious seconds that have become minutes I see just how utterly open he is—

—though Maruki tries to scamper out the way the Biker grabs him by the collar, but I've already said the name, "Satanael!"

My Persona raises his gun once more, and in the time it takes to raise the gun the Biker's made it to about two feet in front of me, Maruki's being pulled to the front of the bike as a shield, if I'm late by even a millisecond Maruki's whole body will explode in a flurry of gore and I'll be responsible for killing one more person I give a shit about—

So Satanael grabs Maruki, rips him out the Biker's hands so fucking hard his robes tear open, and as the Biker charges and closes the gap by a foot and a half I see its black eyeholes, each containing an endless darkness that could only be found in the lowest depths of the Underworld—

BOOM

Satanael's shot causes the skeleton itself to burst apart entirely, the skull and bones shattering apart as the leather is incinerated. The explosion is enough to send me back, my arms bearing the brunt of the heat the instant I'm able to bring them up to my face. When I land I feel what's pierced my arms and my torso and parts of my legs; shrapnel and shards of bone have hit me in everywhere except my vitals, my eardrums have burst, and bits of my hair and coats have caught flame.

I don't see the Biker. What lies before me now is a wall of fire, bright and hot and burning blue. Vision's hazy. Heart's screaming in my chest. I'm laughing and I'm conscious of the fact I'm laughing, which is a fucking huge plus.

It isn't easy or painless to pull out a steel shard or a bony spike from my cheek, nor from my shoulder, nor from my stomach or my hip, but there's a sort of satisfaction about killing an abomination straight out of Hell itself that dulls most of the pain. Maruki and the cat both run to me, Maruki the first to voice his concerns, "Oh my God, Kazuya...!"

"He'll be fine," says the cat. "No fatal wounds, thankfully."

Blue fire blankets his body for just a second and he's reverted back into his real-world attire, "Your arm!"

A large steel thorn in my forearm doesn't come out without gullets of blood and a helluva lotta pain, but Victory Cry more than makes up for it. Lucky that the agony wasn't so unbearable I couldn't concentrate on the spell.

"K-Kazuya!"

I rip out another shard in my elbow, "I'm fine, Maruki."

"He can heal. You'd best get used to this, if you're gonna help us out in the Vortex World."

"You're just a kid and you're doing all this..."

"His Persona's not an offensive type," Cat sighs, turning to me.

"What do you mean?"

"He's useful. Extremely useful. But he's geared towards healing you, buffing you up. He has no offensive capabilities on his own."

"He literally slowed down time for us."

"No, he enhanced our reflexes. To the point where the whole world slowed down for us."

"What?" mutters Maruki.

"Your Persona has no resistances, nor weaknesses. It's more acclimated to defense than offense. You're not built for fights; you're built towards making up for the weaknesses and mistakes of the people who are. While your Persona has an indispensable set of skills, and is sure to develop even stronger spells as time passes...if we encounter an enemy that bypasses everything you can do, I doubt you can take that much abuse."

I blink, wincing as I remove the last bit of steel from a place high up in my chest, "Still, that's...unimaginably helpful."

Maruki exclaims, "So you'll let me join you?"

"Not like I have much of a choice."

"You really don't," says the cat. "Your Persona is powerful, but it's significantly weaker than it used to be. Maruki's Persona can definitely compensate for all of your disadvantages. Your guy's still a badass, but he can't take what he dishes out."

I turn to Maruki, "Fact of the matter is, Kaneshiro already knows me. Since he's big on making use of potential products, he probably knows you as well. Thing is, his Shadow can hit my Persona's weaknesses precisely. So no matter how hard I may fight, it'll only be a matter of time before he lands a good hit in and kills me."

Maruki shakes his head, in disbelief, "I can't believe you went through all this by yourself."

"About that. We're not the only ones involved, just so you know. There're about three other people in Shujin who'll help us take this bastard down."

"They're students like you...?"

"Yes."

"My God," he grits his teeth. "They have Personas, too?"

"Yes. They're aware of the Vortex World and they've been to Kaneshiro's Palace as well. If it were up to me I wouldn't have involved them in this to begin with. But I've no other options, and we're very limited as far as time is concerned. You still want to help us out?"

For the first time since the night began I see him genuinely give an excited sort of smile, "Of course I am!"

As am I.

We see it rise up from the flames.

Ashen black, its silhouette stands strong in the harsh and bright blue lights, its once-empty eyes now aglow with life it hadn't had before. Maruki rears back in horror as I clutch at my broken self, screaming inside my own head for an answer as to how to finally put this fucking thing down—

Its bones are unsightly and jagged and falling apart at the seams, its clothes utterly tattered as the flames consume its frame. The shards of bone I've ripped out myself dance and trip and swarm over to the skeleton, never reforming entirely but restoring the monstrosity before us well enough.

You have proven that, despite your lingering restraints, the fires in your heart remain an inferno that just might cleanse the world. I've longed to witness the world birthed by The Morning Star and his chosen since time immemorial. To this end, I am at thy side. Let us make a pact.

"W-what...?"

Suddenly I feel as though an unspeakable entity is gripping the back of my neck and worming its fingers through my nerves. I cannot speak nor see nor scream for help and a fire rages behind my eyes. Sparks fly every which way in my head as a phrase gets repeated over and over again, filling my heart with a premonition of unpreventable loss and tremendously unattainable happiness. The cat reaches out to me, freaking out as its words are drowned bout by another voice echoing through my head—

Form a Contract with me,
And I shall remain at your side, from now until Kingdom Come.
Know that in order to Remake the World, there can be no compromise.

I let the words come out my mouth before my brain can catch up to what I'm making myself say, but I say something and after I say it I hear:

The Contract has been sealed.

The Hell Biker lets loose one last mad bout of laughter before it blooms into an exceedingly bright, white light. In an instant I feel my insides surge, my pounding heart calmed once more despite everything else burning with something I don't think I've ever felt before. A flaming set of candles rages in my mind, proud and blustering and filling me with a joy I don't deserve in the slightest.

"Holy...!" Cat cries out. "What did you just do...!?"

If I say a single word in response, I fear I'll vomit or freak out or lose what little grasp of my sanity I've left.

Exhausted and traumatized, Maruki collapses, fainting in the sand.

"What did I say...?" I ask the cat.

"What?"

"I said something to it. What did I say?"

"You don't remember?"

I shake my head.

"Y-you said...I chooseth this fate of mine own free will."


We bring Maruki back to the real world and I throw him into his couch. Hopefully he'll stay this way until tomorrow evening at least.

For about an hour I weep uncontrollably by Maruki's bedside, for reasons I'm not even aware of on a conscious level. The cat says nothing, but stays by my side all the while.

If Kana was a curse, then what does that make me.

Every decision I've ever made since the day I opened the app has led to someone killing themselves, getting killed, or otherwise being dragged deep in shit they didn't deserve. Motherfuckers who think they run the goddamn world threaten me or those I know, and the more I try to stop them the more fucked my life becomes. I cut their fucking heads off and two more rise up in their place, each even worse than the last.

I say I want to leave all this behind me, but do I really?

I could've dropped everything after Kamoshida, ignored Kobayakawa's bullshit. Allowed Niijima to send out the recording and send me to prison. But I couldn't just let it go. Couldn't stand walking around in the same fucking building as those assholes. In all honesty, it likely would not have mattered if Niijima dragged me back into this or not. Sooner or later, I'd have returned to the Vortex World on my own.

Knowing Kana would hound me forever. Knowing I'm as undeserving of life as the garbage I dispose of. Knowing that all this will end with me blowing my brains out. The second I'd see another Shido there's nothing on this earth that would stop me from upending his life by any means necessary.

I march over to my room and slam the door in the cat's face. The second I throw myself into bed, I end up back in the church and I see him at the altar.

"In a world of chaos, how can one ascertain truth? How something is, or how something ought to be?" With the candelabrum in his hands, he greets me with a smile and a silky voice, "Through one's Reason."

What have you done to me?

"Only what you've allowed me to do. Remember, at the beginning of all of this, you and I formed a pact."

What the hell do you want?

"It's not...What the hell do I want. It's, What does Hell want to do, with you?" He rises up from the altar, approaching me and leaving the Candelabrum to burn behind him. "The foolishness of man is so outstanding, I cannot help but be amazed at the lengths they go in order to exert their truths. In such a vast cosmos where anything and everything is possible, many have chosen to believe that Gods and Demons are but mere echoes of the human condition. Metaphorical tales that hold only symbolic meaning in accordance with reality. But the Gods bear a life of their own. They are humanity's, as they are their own selves. The heart is the realm where God and Man join at once; it is where Chaos and Order, Truth and Lie, Dream and Reality are in utter union. It is a gateway to the Sea of Souls, the realm of the divine and the demonic. What you refer to as Personas and Shadows are emanations of the Gods themselves, reflected through the lens of the human heart. Once a human heart reaches the apex of awareness, unto themselves they become as Gods. As such humanity can channel the Gods themselves through their own will to power. Just as your heart's desire appealed to me."

That is what you are, then? You are an emanation?

"I keep telling you," he smiles. "I am thou. And thou art I. In your childhood you called to me, seeking for freedom, and I came. Your desire appeals not only to myself; creatures such as the Hell Biker will serve you without complaint nor fear. As a Wild Card, you now bear the ability to channel your very self into different forms of power. I've given you the power to forge Contracts with others, like myself, like the Hell Biker. Once you prove your will they will bend the knee to you, as they do to me. Lest you shall lose the Game."

A Game?

"You are not the only one who bears a Kingdom. Only those who have accepted their heart's desires carry the determination to remake the world. Your fate is cursed, for you walk a path none other can stomach or understand; none but I. It is a fight for supremacy between those who bear Reason, for how the world should be."

I don't want anything to do with it.

"Then you desire not even freedom," he shakes his head. "Your freedom, as mine, cannot be ascertained without robbing others of their own. This world shall never acquiesce to your will over its own. Emancipate yourself from all restraint, all fear, all self-hatred, and you shall conquer this oppressive reality."

Ever since I involved myself in this, I've caused nothing but death and misery. I'm a monster. A murderer. A liar. A plunderer. Everything I've done I've done only for myself, and everything I've done to Kamoshida and Shido and Kobayakawa I deserve to have happen to me a thousand times over.

"What do you think will happen, if you decide to shell yourself away again? Hide from what you've made, what you've done? Do you think you will be spared?"

I don't give a shit what happens to me.

"But you will not stand aside and let them suffer, would you? You would not stand and let this vile new oppressor trample over their lives."

If ever what I desire becomes reality, the whole world will be damned.

"A small price to pay, for one's freedom."

I do not deny in the slightest that you are me.

But I will not make the world we seek a reality.

"You will. It is only a matter of time. This world is on the verge of ruin. Its only salvation can be found in the candles' flames."

I will not do as you say.

I will not let myself become a monster again.

"You are not a monster. You never were. You are the Devil."

I can't even change myself. And you say I have the right to change the world?

"Every single human in the world has that right. The world is a product of cognition. It can be freely remade. What each person sees and feels; those are what shape reality. Would you rather remain locked in your shameful state, perpetually in gruelling self-hatred and abasement, or would you rise against all who seek to enchain you? Those who've stolen from you, betrayed you, keep you trapped in your own guilt? Tell me. Wouldn't you rather pursue Emancipation, with all your body and soul?"


.

.

.

6 / 8 / 2016

When I'm able to pull my eyes open, the clock on the wall reads two thirty-five PM.

My body sways from side to side almost drunkenly as I feel my throat burn and my eyes go aflame.

The Whore and her Child alternate between laughing and crying as I approach the sleeping Maruki.

I feel my face twist as I see him sleeping so peacefully you wouldn't expect he'd seen some shit just last night.

After about an hour and a half of just sitting there while enduring a blistering headache and multiple coughing fits I'm able to see him stir awake. He groans like he's got a headache of his own but he pulls himself up off the couch and takes a look at me.

"S-so I'm assuming...that wasn't a dream...?" he mutters, clutching at his head.

"No. It was. You're still dreaming, go back to sleep."

"Alright, I get the point," he huffs, throwing his legs over the couch and managing to get to his feet. It's a little wobbly of a start, but he manages himself well enough. "Is it normal for me to feel...exhausted?"

"Yes."

"How long does it last...?"

"A day or a few more. Time which we don't have."

"Right...what even was that creature...?"

"That's what a Shadow is. A creature born from humanity's collective unconscious."

"Collective unconscious...," he laughs a little, clearly distraught, "I've studied cognitive psience for more than a decade now. When I told your father I was willing to take you in, I didn't think all this was going to fall in my lap."

"Cognitive science?"

He shakes his head, exhaling strongly and staring through his hands, "Psience. More supernatural, paranormal territory. It's widely regarded as pseudoscience. No tangible evidence of it can be discerned, so most neuropsychologists tend to view the whole field in a less than favorable light. One of its major propositions was the existence of an alternate realm of reality born of cognition. Pseudoscience. Yet I've been there. I've seen it, oh my God. I've seen it..."

The way he mulls over this, you're unsure whether he feels horrified or transfigured.

"You still wanna fuck up this yakuza bastard's heart?"

He turns to me, a little huff escaping his breath, but he nods, "I'll do my best."

"Lesser Shadows lie within Kaneshiro's Palace, drawn to his desires. Kaneshiro has his own personal Shadow, one that reflects his self the most clearly and precisely. The most powerful and dangerous of the whole bunch. Worst-case scenario, you expect something similar in strength to the Biker, if not even stronger. Still keen?"

His eyes don't look determined. More, accepting. Resigned. "Yes."

"You could die."

"So could you. Last night, you very nearly would have, if it hadn't been for me."

"I won't deny that you're the only reason I'm still alive, considering what we were up against last night. I won't deny you're useful in ways I could never have imagined. And I won't deny that I need as much help as I can get. But I'll ask you a third time: knowing that the Hell Biker was just a taste of what this bullshit's gonna be like, do you really really still want to help us out."

"I won't stand aside knowing I now have the power to help."

"I'm not responsible for whatever happens to you, then."

"Good thing I'll be able to back you up whenever you need it, then."

"You should rest for today. When I awoke to my Persona the first time, I felt drained. Give yourself a day or two to regain your strength."

Maruki frowns. "Wait. Kazuya. Are you sure you'll be able to keep this up, yourself? You're sick. Considering what'd happened to us last night, it's a miracle you're still conscious at all."

"It's not like Kaneshiro will extend the deadline based on me having a cold."

"To be perfectly frank, Kazuya," he eyes me sternly, "you might be a liability. You can't expect to fight someone this...depraved when you're not even at a hundred percent."

"We fought the Hell Biker and won. All my wounds are healed. We've no time for this."

"No, I think we do, Kazuya," We turn to the cat, perched atop the dinner table. "What's afflicting you is psychosomatic. You're so overwhelmed by your stress that it's manifesting itself as an illness."

I make a hhhh noise with my mouth, "Took you that long to tell me, huh?"

"I wasn't sure. Then last night happened...and now I'm certain."

"The object of all my fucking anxiety is Junya Kaneshiro. I get rid of him and-"

"You know it goes deeper than that, Kazuya!" the cat cries, "You're so consumed by everything you're bottling up inside yourself, to the point where the only way your body can let it all out is by making you physically ill!"

"And what's the fucking solution, huh!? I tell everyone in the goddamn world I drove my girlfriend to suicide!? I confess I threw my fucking gym teacher off a roof, sent my principal into traffic!?" I have another goddamn coughing fit, one so severe I can barely even stand or breathe and Maruki has to plant me on the couch.

"K-Kazuya!"

"Get the fuck off me you-"

"Your sleep pattern is nonexistent," Maruki asks me, grabbing me by my shoulders. "You have intense, overwhelming hallucinations all the time. You've stewed in your self-hatred for months on end, all by yourself!"

A ringing noise pierces my ears as my whole head vibrates, "It doesn't matter."

"No one would be like this if it was over something that didn't matter!"

"The others' Personas aren't as strong as mine is. If this motherfucker gets his hands on them they're dead."

"If you go today, then so do I. And that's that."

I growl at him, "So we go. We make it as far into the Palace as we possibly can."

"Yes."

"It'll be him or us from there. If he dies, he dies. If you can't accept that, then don't get in the goddamn boat."

Maruki's hands ball up. Finally, I see a respectable look in his eyes. "I understand."

"Good." I turn back to the cat. "You said you can sense Persona-users, right?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"You teleport to places from Mementos, right?"

"Yeah."

"All places in this world correspond to places there, right?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Sakamoto is in a hospital. Got into an accident during the pursuit of Kaneshiro. I'm thinking we can bring him to Mementos, have you heal him up, leave him back in the hospital and get the doctors to let him go."

"Not possible."

"Why not?"

"My spells in particular only heal people if they get treatment for their wounds within the hour. Otherwise, no. It'll get stronger with time, but as I am now, it isn't possible."

"Can your healing spells cure illnesses?"

"No. Only recent physical wounds. Meaning if you're gonna go for this you'd better take care of yourself."

"I intend to," I exhale. "We're heading out at five."


The wandering creature wearing my skin pushes itself out of the apartment, out of the building, falling apart at the seams as I recall so many things she'd said to me, so many things I will never let myself forget. Normally my left hand would be trembling uncontrollably right now. Instead, there's an aching, throbbing pain, echoing across my palm right over the teeth marks and the scars her nails had left. The closer my body makes it to Shibuya Station, the louder Kana and Masako scream and the more their voices sound like mine.

When Maruki and I get to the walkway we see all three of them, standing by the railing. Niijima's the first to see me and she's perplexed by the new guy; Yoshizawa and Takamaki turn to us then, the former of the two approaching us first.

I turn to Maruki, who brushes past me, a look of recognition in his eye. "Yoshizawa-san."

"Doctor Maruki...? What're you...?"

"Things have changed," I tell them.

"Yoshizawa, what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here!?"

"You both know each other?" asks Niijima.

"H-he's my counselor!" Yoshizawa cries, "He...he helped me come to terms with a family tragedy. What're you doing with Hikawa-senpai?"

He stammers out, "You have a Persona?"

"You know what Personas are!?"

"Okay, just—" Niijima steps between them both, turns to Maruki, "who are you? And how do you know Hikawa-san?"

Maruki clears his throat, runs a hand over his head, "Well, I'm, er...my name is Takuto Maruki. I'm a clinical psychologist...and Hikawa-san's probation officer. He'll be staying with me for the next year or so.

Everyone just looks at him.

"Are we there yet?" My bag rustles. I pull open the ziplock and the cat's head pops out, "Woo! Your bag's real cozy. If a little hot." It leaps down and steps between Maruki and the other girls. "Good evening, ladies. Ya miss me?"

Niijima shakes her head, "Hikawa-san, what's the meaning of this?"

"I know this sounds fucking crazy. But my therapist has a Persona. In fact, he has one so powerful he might just be the key to helping us finally put a stop to Kaneshiro."

"Since when did you get a Persona...?" mutters Yoshizawa.

Maruki rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, "Since last night, I guess?"

Niijima just turns to me again, "Okay. You're going to have some explaining to do."

I groan, "I can't be asked."

"Hikawa!"

"Storytime!" shouts the Cat. "It was a dark and stormy night. There I was, wandering around Shibuya to give Kaz a lecture on teamwork when BOOM, I see him talking to this kinda handsome dude about Palaces over a dinner table."

"Wait, what, what!?" Takamaki's the first to voice her concern, "You told him about Palaces!?"

"Two days ago, I wandered home with blood on my fucking clothes. He asked questions, I was too pissed and drowsy and fucking sick to make something up."

"Oh my God-"

"Kazuya was basically forced to spill his guts to Maruki about Kaneshiro. Maruki, nice guy that he is, said he wanted to help put a stop to this yakuza bastard. So I decided to give him a shot; sent him someplace in the Vortex World to get his Persona out."

Niijima, new blood that she is, scratches her head and furrows her brows, "What are you talking about? Where'd you send him?"

It smiles, "Let's just say there's way more distortion going on in the world than you'd hope. Anyway, brought him there. Lo and behold, a Shadow invades. Terrifying skeleton-biker thing with flaming wheels. He kicks the everlasting shit out of Kazuya."

"What?" Niijima turns to me, though my expression is impassive.

"Absolutely reams his ass. Rips off half his goddamn face in a matter of seconds. Massacres him, before he can even summon his Persona-"

"Get to the point," I grunt at it.

"I mean practically stripped him naked and shoved one of his femurs up his ass-"

"Cat."

"Sorry, sorry. Maruki grew a pair, summoned his Persona, and gave Kaz the power to send that skeleton all the way back to Hell."

By the end of its tale, everyone's stuck staring at the cat, caught between looking baffled, amazed, and disturbed all at once. Niijima's more in the disturbed camp than anything else, and by the end of the cat's glorious tale she alternates between looking suspiciously at Maruki and looking angrily at me.

Maruki's embarrassed, though he was generous enough to not interrupt the cat once throughout its story. "Uh...are you finished?" he asks the cat.

"Pretty much."

Niijima turns to me, "Are you sure it's alright for you to be here...? I doubt anyone here would blame you if you decided to rest up."

"All my wounds're healed. I'm just feeling sick. I can make it."

"Are you sure?" she grunts out.

"We can't afford to waste time."

"Doctor Maruki," Yoshizawa approaches him. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'm willing to give it a shot. I don't intend to let you all endanger yourselves if there's something I can do to help."

Cat interjects, "Kazuya's sick and his Persona's weak to whatever this Kaneshiro person can do. We're dealing with a career criminal here. Need all the help we can get."

He straightens his back to them all, "You're all students of Shujin Academy, correct?"

None of them are particularly keen to answer, though Yoshizawa decides to give it a shot, "Yes..."

"Well...may I know your names? I-I already know Kazuya and Yoshizawa here, but...if we're going to work together, I think it'd be for the best."

Though Niijima is on guard, she lets a hand out towards him. "Makoto Niijima."

He shakes it, smiling at her a little, "Niijima-san."

Takamaki is just as suspicious, if not even more so, and keeps a distant tone, "Ann Takamaki."

"Nice to meet you both."

"Do you know about Kamoshida? About Kobayakawa?" she asks him, raising her brow. "What they did?"

He nods, "I heard about them through the news. And Kazuya gave me the gist of what they had done."

"So you know it isn't exactly easy for us to put our faith in some random adult that we've never met before," she folds her arms. "At least...it isn't easy for me."

He stays silent for a moment. "I can't imagine what it was like to have been even in the same building as either of them."

Niijima steps forward, "Hikawa told you what happened in their Palaces, then...?"

"He told me that he was responsible for stealing their...Treasures, that's the correct term, right?"

"Y-yes."

His eyes turn wide, and wary, and he murmurs, "So...did you...?"

"I had nothing to do with it," Niijima growls.

I grab his shoulder, "All that came down to me. I strong-armed them into helping me get rid of Kamoshida."

"No, you didn't," Takamaki steps in. "You had a plan. I helped carry it through."

"Without mine or Sakamoto's say in the matter," Yoshizawa growls.

I cut back in, "And I took care of Kobayakawa on my own."

Didn't think Maruki was capable of looking disgusted, "Are you forcing these girls to help you?"

"No, he isn't." Niijima takes in a large breath, and explains plainly, "After Kobayakawa's death, students from schools within or close to Shibuya, Shujin included, were forced into illegal drug trafficking by the man we know today as Junya Kaneshiro. The victims were threatened into silence, lest they and their families become victims of the yakuza. Knowing I could do nothing, I blackmailed Hikawa and the others to change Kaneshiro's heart."

"That ended up getting you all into Kaneshiro's crosshairs."

"...yes." Though her face is static, you'd be able to tell from her tone exactly how she feels about herself. "I am the reason he came to your door that day, his clothes covered in blood and wine. I'm why another member of this team is in the hospital, getting treatment for a broken arm. I'm why our lives will be over in the next two weeks unless we change this person's heart."

Yoshizawa winces, "Senpai..."

"Hikawa gave me a chance to help make things right. Now I have a Persona."

Realization dawns in his eyes, "He dragged you into Kaneshiro's Palace."

She lets out a completely joyless chuckle, "I forced my way in, I suppose. He demanded I leave him in the station, all by himself, despite his wounds. I didn't want to. I didn't think it would've led to something like this."

Niijima sighs brusquely, "How much about all this do you know?"

"Kazuya and Morgana filled me in on the basics, I suppose. I know that there's a realm outside our understanding of reality formed from human cognition and the collective unconscious. Within said realm lies different pocket dimensions birthed from the distorted desires of specific individuals. Within each of those same dimensions lies a physical representation of those desires, called a Treasure. And stealing the Treasure will in turn, force the person to have a change of heart, and experience an overwhelming amount of remorse over their actions. To the point where they'll either turn themselves in...or kill themselves."

Niijima wavers, unable to carry that line of thought through, so Takamaki does it for her. "You've made your peace with that? That this person might die because of us?"

Yoshizawa grips her arms, unable to even look at us all. "Doctor Maruki, please..."

"I don't believe anyone deserves to die," he sighs. "I'm a psychologist. I've signed petition after petition to null the death penalty and I've always, always striven to try and rehabilitate people rather than have them taken out. But for all my reservations...I don't see any other way out of this. I want to stop this man, in any way I can."

Niijima softens her eyes, despite the girds she's set up all around her. She turns to Yoshizawa, "Yoshizawa-san. Do you trust him?"

Though Yoshizawa carries a defeated look, she nods, "I trust him. He's a good man, but...," she turns to me now, "do you think he'll be able to fight against someone like Kaneshiro?"

"He's not a fighter."

"What?"

"His Persona completely lacks offensive capabilities, but specializes in dealing with Kaja and Unda spells," says the cat.

"What are you talking about?" asks Niijima.

"Let's call them buffs and debuffs. Now, Kaja spells are buffs; they can increase your strength, agility, and defense to extraordinary levels. Kazuya, tell 'em."

"He cast a spell on me during our fight with the aforementioned Biker. To me it felt like time had slowed down significantly. Minutes passed within seconds. But really, all he did was make me faster. It saved our lives."

"But just as he giveth, he can taketh away. Unda spells lower the strength of your powers. Makes you slower, weaker, more breakable."

"I-I can do that...?" Maruki asks.

"Yes, you can. You may not be aware of it right now, but you can. You gotta feel that in the depths of your heart. Maruki's not a fighter, but he's absolutely vital. What he's capable of will increase our chances of stealing the Treasure by a hundredfold. You'll see soon enough."

"Do you think he can even enter the bank?" Takamaki asks. "Only reason we can do it is because Miss Prez doxxed us."

I shrug, "Probably."

"Probably?"

"Yes, probably," says Niijima. "Kaneshiro made it a point to gather information about my sister as soon as he'd validated my ID. Likely he's willing to...pursue people close to us, so long as they're related. After all, he'd threaten his victims' families in exchange for their compliance. I don't think it would be out of left field for him to include Maruki in a list of potential customers. But we won't know for sure...unless we go in there and find out."

So I turn to Maruki, "Last chance. You can either say Yes or Fuck you."

Please say Fuck you.

"Yes. I'm ready."

Goddammit.

I tried to run away from it and all I ended up doing was drive myself up the goddamn wall. I've been dreaming, all this fucking time, that I could be something I don't deserve to be. The dream was over for months now and all I have left is the truth.

Niijima hopes that Kaneshiro's conviction will result in his whole operation being upended, but it won't. Eliminating him out won't stop the drug trade, nor will it stop the child prostitution, nor will it stop innocents from being crushed by impossible debts. He's likely already sent out information on all of them to his patrons. Under his command all of us will be beaten, raped, riddled with narcotics, and tossed into the ocean once they're finished with us. So, in the ultimate worst-case scenario, there is only one way to ensure none of them come after us.

For Niijima's sake, Kaneshiro had better have kept this shit all to himself. Because if he hasn't, then no matter what happens next, there will be a yakuza bloodbath in all Tokyo.

As if I didn't have enough reasons to be going to Hell.


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So I'm admittedly in a lil bit of a predicament. Every time I have a fight with another Fiend I'm SUPER excited and I have a ton of fun writing for it. Unfortunately I realized that I'm saving the Four Horsemen and Trumpeter to have special roles in my Persona 3 fic. To the point where the MC in that story literally uses Pale Rider. Considering using other demons in other MegaTen games to fill the void (some of the ones in SMT IV are preeeeetty dope), but I wanna hear you guys' thoughts lol

Trumpeter is EASILY my favorite Fiend fight (more so because of what he represents overall in the Book of Revelation) and it might be a shame if he's not included here.

I estimate there will be about four to six chapters left in the Kaneshiro arc. Because Kaz has a LOT of work to do, a lot of demons to wrestle with, and a shitton of redtape named Makoto Niijima :P Thanks to everyone who's stuck by this slow-burn fic as much as you have. Hope I haven't disappointed thus far.