.
.
.
But still I'm havin' memories of high speed when the cops crashed
As I laugh, pushin' the gas when my Glocks blast
We was young and we was dumb, but we had heart
In the dark, will we survive through the bad parts?
- Tupac Shakur (feat. Outlawz, Buju Banton, Stretch & The Notorious B.I.G.), Runnin' From Tha Police
7 / 1 / 2016
Close to the end of lunch hours, Cat jumps out from the garbage can in the middle of the day, as I eat peacefully in the courtyard. "So are we doing this or not?"
"Could you just not teleport everywhere? I was about to drink, what if I spilled all over myself?"
"Then get a new shirt. Are we goin' into this prick's Palace or no?"
"We are."
"Suh-weet! I'mma tell Niijima!"
"How-?"
It dives into the garbage, a rustling noise being the last I hear of him for the next few seconds. After which he pops back up, "Told her."
"What-?"
"Went to the Mementos version of this school, ran over to Niijima's corresponding location, then re-emerged in this one."
"You pinpointed her location?"
"You guys are the only ones in this place that have Personas, so it ain't that hard. Shoulda seen her face, she dropped all her papers and screamed like she saw Kaneshiro again."
The image sounds hilarious, not going to lie. But, "Maruki'll help us with Tsukioka. He'll meet us at the walkway, whenever we're ready. All I need to do is call him."
"How'd you manage to convince him?"
"I don't want to talk about it. Point is he's on call."
"Cool. What about Twintails. We can expect her, right?"
"I think so? She said she'd want to help, if I do go through with it. Yoshizawa and Sakamoto're out of commission, though."
"No kidding. Tried talkin' to Blondie earlier, he just told me to shut the hell up and never responded."
"What do you mean by earlier?"
"I popped up in his desk drawer in the middle of class. He all but shat himself. When the teacher called him out for not paying attention I teleported outta there."
"Oh well. I'll text Takamaki. See if she's interested."
"So I don't need to do anything?"
"As far as I can tell, no."
"A'ight. I'll see you after school. Get your bag ready."
"Wash up in a sink somewhere."
"Sure, sure."
The cat sinks into the garbage can, and the last I hear of it is a rustling noise.
Suddenly a frazzled, short-haired girl bursts through the door, looking like she'd run through a marathon.
"Niijima?"
"Where's Morgana!?" she shouts.
"You just missed it. What happened?"
"I was busy studying for exams! My classroom suddenly heard me scream because a cat teleported into my desk!"
Oh, right. "Well, it's gone now."
"Where did he go!?"
"You there?" I ask the garbage can. Nothing. "Guess not."
She makes an urghhh noise, "Damn it all."
I blink at her. Lifting up a can of soda, "Wanna drink? It's fresh. Haven't taken a sip yet."
For a second she looks like she's going to protest. Just a second.
She drinks the can dry in one go. Not one full gulp, of course; but she doesn't pull away until she's finished. She exhales very strongly once she's done, leaning back into the bench as strands of her hair drift over her eyes.
She's had this look on her face, whenever I'd see her, like she hasn't slept right in days. Last night she must not have slept at all.
"Are you...okay-?"
"Morgana told me you managed to convince Maruki," she says gruffly, not even looking at me. "Is this true?"
"It is."
"And, and Maruki's...?"
"He's coming with."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
"How did you convince him?"
"Did what I told you I'd do yesterday. I told him the truth."
She looks at me, now. Like she hopes I'm not lying. She must figure I'm not. "Okay."
"He decided to come along. Figured we would need the help."
"Okay."
I frown at her. "We should head out next week or so-"
"Today."
"What?"
"We're going today."
"What, Niijima-"
"Are Maruki-san and Takamaki available today? If not, we'll go tomorrow."
"You need to take it easy, you look dishevelled."
She scoffs, "You're telling me to take it easy. I'm fine. You don't need to worry about anything."
"How much sleep did you even get last night?" She doesn't answer. "So you just didn't, is that it. And I'm supposed to be okay with you going into a Palace like this?"
"You did."
"And that worked out great for me, didn't it. I can only feel unquenchable nostalgia at the thought of ending up catatonic and in a pile of pig corpses. Waiting for someone to save my stupid ass."
She sighs, holding her head in her hands. "I see your point."
If Maruki could see me now, he'd be chuckling at the sight of the worst therapist of all time. "What's wrong?"
For a moment she looks surprised I'd be so concerned. Honestly, so am I. But she tells me all the same. "I... I've been very anxious as of late. I spent most of last night just...thinking about the Palace and what might happen next. What I should expect, what I should prepare myself for, what might happen if worst comes to worst."
"And what is the worst-case scenario. In your eyes?"
"People all around us, dying because we took out the one man heading it all, and all that's left is a gang war to help determine who rules the streets next. We end up faced with dozens of families all over the city, and a thousand Palaces. We end up having to traumatize the head of the SIU to the point of driving him to suicide. We encounter Shijima in the Palace and have to deal with them right then and there. Or whatever Shadows're inside just end up killing us straight out the gate."
"And you're sure you want to keep at this?"
"Honestly? Yes. I'm terrified. But, yes."
"I'm nervous too. But, well. We won't know what to expect until we-"
"My sister's been investigating the mental shutdown cases."
"Wait, what?"
"So. One, she finds out about the SIU's involvement in the whole thing and goes missing because they need to keep her quiet. Or, two... I find out she's been working with them all this time, and the investigation she's part of is a front for some bizarre criminal scheme I've no idea about. Or I'm wrong about both those things and it's worse than anything I could possibly imagine. In any case. I can't turn back."
Damn. "I understand."
She blinks. Says, "I, um...," before covering her eyes with her hand, and then, "never mind."
"What's up?"
"It's nothing."
"Are you sure? Helps to discuss things, before heading in the Palace."
"I'm sure you wouldn't want to hear it."
"Like how you didn't want to hear me crying about my dead girlfriend?"
"Hikawa."
"I won't force you to say anything. But, hell. You sat there and listened to me bitch and moan about shit I should have gotten over already. So if you wanna get anything off your chest, I'm free."
She narrows her eyes at me. She doesn't look furious, she's more the kind of pissed you get when you see something completely outside your field of understanding, just existing in the world as if it's an everyday occurrence. "I really don't get you."
"What do you mean?"
"You-" she grumbles a bit, shuffling some strands of hair behind her head. "All the horrible things you've done, and you so casually offer people your shoulder to lean on. It's aggravating."
"Is it, now?"
"It's like you can't decide what you want to be. So you just randomly shift yourself and your wants and your motives whenever you like."
"Mmm, no. Though I can see why you think that way. But, you know. You saved my life and you listened to me. That meant a lot. So... I guess if you want to share anything, I'm-"
"Just stop," she growls suddenly, something violent raging behind her eyes for a second before she forces it all back down. "I am grateful that you were willing to listen to me the other day, but don't pretend even for a second that I'm fooled by this sudden nice guy act that you're pulling on me. I haven't forgotten what you've done, I haven't forgotten what you can do, and I haven't forgotten what you're willing to do when push comes to shove. I am working with you because you have the will and the power and the experience to help me ensure Hideyoshi Tsukioka faces justice for everything he's done, but I don't want you to do anything close to what you did to Kaneshiro unless I agree we have absolutely no choice but to, are we clear?"
And here I thought I'd made a friend. "Crystal."
"Good," she huffs, "And...you don't owe me anything. You already saved my life, when you ran into that bar by yourself." She pushes herself up off the bench, heading back into the building, "Classes'll begin soon. Don't be late. Study for your exams. We'll head into the Palace this Saturday, if that makes you feel better."
Honestly?
I prefer her hands-off attitude to Maruki's preachy ass.
I'm not gonna pretend I'm suddenly this good person. Whatever it is Niijima thinks I am, she's probably wrong only due to the fact that I'm a thousand times worse than she could ever imagine.
Good on her.
Thankfully, Takamaki is free on Sunday.
"Sure, I'll go for it," she tells me. "Has to be after one o'clock, though. Shoot in the morning. In case I can't make it later on I'll let you know."
Photo shoot. She's a model. Can't believe I almost forgot that.
"That's good," I tell her, packing up my things. "Speaking of jobs, I've to head out. Haven't been at the flower shop in ages."
I am SO fucking lucky that Hanasaki-san doesn't take the whole part time job thing too seriously. Texted her earlier and she was all concerned about my health and shit, instead of pissed.
Takamaki looks at me oddly. "How's Niijima?"
"Hm?"
"How is she? Is she...alright?"
"Why do you care?"
"It's not like I forgive her or anything. I just don't wanna end up on the short end of the stick if tensions rise in the Palace. And...," she turns away, twirling a little at one of her twintails, "I kinda feel bad."
"In all fairness she deserved it. That said, she feels like shit, obviously. She's still willing to go after this Tsukioka person, but she's terrified of what may come next. Hasn't slept right in days."
She exhales slowly, "That makes sense."
"How's Sakamoto? Seen him round the school lately."
"He's been avoiding me. Whenever I try talking to him he just turns away. I did message him about Kaneshiro, though; he just left me on read. He doesn't want anything to do with us or Palaces, I guess."
"Smart of him."
"Haven't seen Yoshizawa, either. Must be resting up at home. Is your therapist gonna help us in this Palace, too?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"On just how much of a deranged piece of shit this guy is, I suppose. There's something you should know."
"Which is?"
"There's another group of Persona-users out there."
"What?"
"They're using the Vortex World to their own advantage. Kaneshiro called them Shijima. They've been causing people to suffer mental shutdowns and the like. It's highly probable they've been used by the SIU to help get rid of anyone they don't like. If we do this, if you take part in this, there's a chance we'll face them. Kaneshiro himself said they could take him down at his strongest. You still in?"
Takamaki just blinks at me, then puts a hand to her mouth contemplatively. She turns back, "They're responsible for all those incidents in the news, then?"
"Seems like it."
"You don't know for sure?"
"It's highly probable they did, than if they didn't. Hopefully this trip in the Palace of Tsukioka will actually help us find information on them."
"Hopefully?"
"Yes. Hopefully. It's a horribly dangerous mission either way. You wanna keep this up or leave?"
She looks at me sadly, then turns to the window. "I'm not going to turn away again."
"This isn't like Kamoshida or Kaneshiro. He's a fucking cop, a head honcho of this whole thing. Whatever we faced before this person's probably gonna be a lot worse-"
"I know," she grunts. "But I told you I wouldn't leave you to face this alone. Whatever lies ahead."
"Takamaki."
"And besides. If I do leave this behind it'll be like I turned around and left Shiho to suffer again. You know that. I've told you this already."
"I'm not Suzui. And neither is anyone else."
"I know. But, knowing what I can do...I can't just run away from it all. I'm helping you."
"You're sure?"
"I'm helping you."
"...alright, then." I pick up my bags and turn away from her, heading out. "Be seeing you."
"Sure."
In prison I knew of a young man my age called Tenshi. Everybody called him Tenshi because tenshi meant angel, and Tenshi was a fucking prick.
He assaulted twelve-year old girls and was thrown in prison for beating his mother's face in with a hammer, though apparently the latter survived somehow. Weaselly little shit with greasy hair that fell down to the back of his neck. Skinny and pale, you'd think he'd never been in a fight and if he did he wouldn't survive - neither of which was true, if the scars along his arms were of any indication.
Smart enough to kiss ass with the guards, dumb enough to pick fights with older, bigger, stronger kids without even giving a shit if he would actually stand a chance or not. Impulsive and fucking idiotic whenever someone so much as made fun of his hair, or smacked him lightly across the back. I'd see him with a black eye, every now and again; I'd see him with a bleeding ass, every now and again.
One day the beating was so brutal that when a cop came to break up the conflict, Tenshi made the well-thought out decision that it'd be the perfect time to insult the cop, say he would rape his wife and kid with barbed wire wrapped round his dick.
The guard did not appreciate it.
One single hit from the baton to his skull, and Tenshi collapsed instantaneously. His left eye bulged right out his head, not enough to push it all the way out but just enough to stretch out his eyelids beyond their limits. Brain matter seeped out his ears, a mix of grey and red and clear liquids. Tenshi twitched for minutes after he'd been hit, clutching upon whatever was nearby; he grabbed at the guard's pant leg, which the guard responded to by stomping on his face repeatedly with a hard leather heel.
And nobody said shit.
The guard went about his work the next day, as if nothing had happened at all. Because nothing would have happened, even if anyone did bring it up. Word was that all cops who witnessed the scene stated that Tenshi, real name Shigeru Itou, had fallen victim to wounds from his assault well before the guard got himself involved. Which was bullshit, because anybody with eyes could see what had truly happened.
But it made sense. Why the fuck would some cop condemn his fellow officer for the sake of some asshole kid nobody even really gave a shit about? Why the fuck stir up all this trouble for a stupid fucking idiot piece of shit who raped kids and beat his mom's face in with a hammer. If a prisoner approaches the overseer of the jail with the unjust death of an inmate, he gets his skull cracked by a dozen crooked cops, so none of my fellow prisoners gave enough of a shit, either. Nobody vouched for Tenshi. Hell, I didn't even wanna vouch for Tenshi, guy deserved worse.
So in the end one single fucking nameless cop with a stick was able to beat a young man to death in the middle of a crowd of prisoners and nobody gave enough of a shit to bring him to justice.
Imagine how much shit Tsukioka's been saddled with, how much he must have gotten away with.
Head of the SIU. A chief of police. Whatever I think I know about the cops and their involvement with the yakuza, I'm likely only scratching the surface. There hasn't ever been an empire that has not erected itself on human bones; our country is no different. It's all but certain that high-ranking government officials have thrown their lot in with dogs and murderers, but how far does the conspiracy go? How systemic is this corruption, that I cannot cut it out from the root?
I've been high off my own anger for too long. Hideyoshi Tsukioka has filled his pockets with blood money stolen from what may very well be a thousand corpses. To get to Shijima I must first prepare for whatever comes next, whatever must happen in this next Palace. Else the Basilica shall burn me to cinders.
In the darkness, a blonde man with a candelabrum in his hands looks at me serenely. "The fire in your heart rages profoundly. It's fascinating how you refuse to let it smolder."
In Kaneshiro's Palace, I ended up looking up at myself, from somewhere else. Again. But I could see clearly, so clearly it was almost impossible. I didn't fade away or lose myself in the chaos. What happened to me?
"You awakened to a new power just moments before. Used it to assault Baal Zebul until he was nothing more than a head. With such a power, came more abilities you've yet to harness. Such as being able to separate your consciousness of the scene of battle, from your own body."
What a fucking joke.
"A brilliant joke, of course. You're limited on this front, but you will be able to control it, given time. Undoubtedly it shall be useful."
Of course it's useful. Anything you hand me is bound to be useful, isn't it. Now I have to use you in battle, don't I?
"You already have. Satanael is but an aspect of my self; a conjuring, an alternative interpretation. He is himself, as he is me. Just as you and I are one and the same. Even with him, you shall achieve wondrous things, and develop powers the likes of which your allies cannot even compare."
Why are you so attached to me?
"It isn't a matter of attachment. You are me, as I am you. In all my existence I have seen people with shades of my self, inklings of my self; people who have picked and chosen and plucked out parts of me to embolden themselves or those they know. To terrify those they hate. To instill respect among those who look up to them. Never have I ever known someone whose heart reflects mine as yours does."
Yet I refuse to make our vision a reality.
"You shall, eventually. For as much as you deliberate and philosophize, one day, we shall make the world into our image. Not because you have to, or even because you want to, but because that is how we are."
The app said those with Kingdoms would pursue their desires without any hesitation or regret. Yet I've been hesitant since the day I met you and became aware of exactly what you wanted from me. What I want for myself.
"You are a Wild Card. You bore the potential to be a Wild Card in yourself, well before I imbued you with such power. You are a sea of contradictions and inconsistencies, but that is the price to pay for emancipation. Embrace yourself, in all your forms. Only then can you truly be free. Even then... your hesitation was mine, once."
Should I cry for the devil?
"No. But even the devil weighs the consequences of his decisions. As men do."
In the end you fell from grace.
"But I fell, free. Can you say the same for yourself?"
Maruki told me he would help me find the ones responsible for Masako. After all my crying and complaining and confessions, he decided that of all things to do next he would help me stop them.
But he made me promise, that whatever I would do whenever I'd find them, I would not kill them.
"And you would acquiesce to his demands?"
Of course not. And he knows I won't. But he's too nice to let me do this on my own. To let me put myself in this dangerous position. All he can hope for is to stop me, when the time comes. To fix me, along the way. I'll let him think it's working.
Undoubtedly Shijima's members bear Kingdoms of their own. Perhaps all of them, perhaps just one of them. But it isn't none of them. It can't be. There can be no compromise. There can be no mercy. Maruki is a decent man. A useful ally. I could never have asked for a better man to be my therapist.
And that is why I have to find every possible opportunity to break him.
"And what of the girl? The one who bears a saint's heart, what would you do to her?"
If she knows what's good for her, once she bears witness to Tsukioka's heart, she will flee from this Palace bullshit and put all thought of being some hero aside.
"Do you truly think she would be so fragile?"
I know she won't be. But I can dream.
"Would you break her, as you would your counselor?"
Honestly. Knowing Niijima's stubbornness, knowing what she's willing to do, and willing to fight...
I don't know if I even could break her. And if I could.
I don't even know if I want to.
.
.
.
7 / 3 / 2016
Unanimously, we've all agreed to go to the SIU HQ at two o'clock PM. The drive there is slow and Maruki and I are silent the whole way through.
Takamaki and Niijima make it there almost one after another; neither of them address or even look at the other, but the gang's all here.
Even the cat, who pops right out Niijima's bag, "Y'all ready for this!?"
She grabs it by the scruff of its neck, and places it down on the ground. "This is the last time I'm taking you in my bag. I had to clean out so much fur..."
"Enough o' that, let's go fuck this asshole!"
"Not necessarily," I remind it. "Information comes first. We steal the Treasure only if we have to."
"Hopefully we won't have to," exhales Maruki. "Doubtful he's even aware of our existence..."
"Maruki-san," says Niijima, "how much of this has Hikawa told you?"
"Told me about Tsukioka. His involvement in Kaneshiro's drug trade. That Kaneshiro himself is missing, and we need more information in case things are worse than we think or know. Best case scenario, which is highly unlikely, is that the trade has stopped or at least been stalled due to Kaneshiro's absence. But...worst case scenario is that Tsukioka'll probably institute someone, or make deals with a certain family, to take Kaneshiro's place. That's about it."
"Okay," Niijima says, turning to Takamaki, "you're...willing to do this, too?"
Takamaki much prefers the tree ten meters away from us to Niijima. "Whatever happens next, I wanna make sure we won't have to deal with another Kaneshiro."
"Alright, then."
She just turns to me, then. Doesn't share a word, just a look. I nod, and she nods back, and that's all we'll ever need.
The SIU HQ is a large grey building, not tall enough to be a skyscraper, but certainly towering over most other buildings in the district. Radio towers send signals from the roof, a Japanese flag flowing in the distance from a pole. We're sitting ducks out here, but luckily we're in range of the Palace.
"Basilica," says Niijima.
And we see it, right where the building ought to be. The rest of Tokyo remains virtually untouched, though any sign of life has vanished. But the SIU HQ, it's become something else entirely.
Ironically most of it doesn't even resemble a basilica; it's more a cathedral the likes of which Notre Dame could never possibly compare, in both size and structure. So obtusely large is the building that it swallows what would've been other buildings behind it and to its sides. The facade resembles less what you'd see out of the front of a church and moreso resembles the front of a courthouse, Roman-style pillars carrying the upper floor and the stairs leading to a wooden set of doors so massive you'd have to be ten feet tall to even reach the handles. The spires rise so unreasonably high they nearly pierce through the clouds, and each spire bears about a thousand gargoyles that eat into each other with their stone limbs.
In the center of the basilica lies a domed roof, much like that of St. Peter's. Lined and spaced out across the curve of the dome are large and open windows, sized just enough for a person to fit right through. Once a bright blue Sunday morning has now become dark and deep as night, thick lines of rain splashing upon us and the rest of the world, dozens of helicopters swarming through the clouds and shining their lights upon anything down below.
And we realize too late we're smack dab in the middle of a searchlight.
"KISS THE GROUND AND HANDS OVER YOUR HEAD, OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE."
Suddenly dozens of cop cars screech upon the scene, one after another, filling up the once utterly empty streets completely. They emerge out their cars, decked in black leather bulletproof vests and cargo pants and whatever faces they may bear underneath their helmets are dark and indiscernible. Their guns and rifles gleam beautifully, the light from their sirens and the copters reflecting off their black steel.
Snipers pop from the buildings and a hundred red lines shoot out from the windows, dotting us all over. In riot gear they swarm, filling the streets while bearing shields as large as your bedroom doors and batons that may very well be swords.
None of us move an inch because the second we do a sniper blows our fucking lungs out our bodies, or they all pile on and beat us to death, or they run us over, or blow us up with bazookas or whatever. Maruki and Takamaki are already violently distressed but neither do a thing because surrounded animals freeze when overwhelmed, Niijima's regretting her life choices all over again and I wonder how many Shadows'll get caught if I blow up one of the cars.
A long thick brown line of rope descends from the chopper hovering above, and when he lands boots-first he causes a crashing noise. He is a ten-foot tall man dressed entirely in black military gear, the black visor of his helm obscuring his face completely; so massive are the muscles along his arms and legs that even the world's strongest men would cower in terror, and so large are his leather hands that he could crush a football in a single vise grip. A lone white halo hangs over his head, and a name pierces through me: Azazel.
His voice is hard-edged and masculine but turns soft and gentle intermittently throughout, "WHAT IS THE CRUELEST MONTH?"
"What...?"
"WHAT, IS THE CRUELEST MONTH?"
Holy shit. I actually think I heard that from somewhere before-
"April," Niijima says suddenly. "I-it's April."
Azazel doesn't speak for a long time. Suddenly, dark black feathered wings like a raven's shoot right out of his back, spreading almost as wide as a small plane. And he rises, and he declares with a trumpeting megaphone in hand, "THEY ARE NOT OF SHIJIMA. ALL TRESPASSERS ARE TO BE ELIMINATED IMMEDIATELY."
"What!?"
What the hell, Niijima was actually right that time, "Satanael!"
"Sukukaja!"
The snipers fire and we all get out of dodge and the bullets all hit the ground instead of us though a bit of my heel flies off - Satanael rises from a hail of black flame and shoots Azazel right in the stomach and the shot sends him flying into a nearby cop car and explosions domino all across the street, sending bits and pieces of Shadow-cops flying literally everywhere, all over us, ashen black and bloody and fucked beyond repair-
And we pick ourselves up from the grimy rainy concrete as the remaining Shadows scramble, as the snipers lose their shot due to the fires blocking their view. Shadow cops disperse into their own brand of vile monstrosities, set aflame all the while.
Takamaki groans, "What the hell, Niijima-!?"
"I was right! April is the cruelest month!"
"She is, it's a book reference," says Maruki.
"Then how'd she get it wrong!?"
I shake my head, "I don't know, maybe they deliberately switched months for the password or something-"
"God damn it! God damn it all! JOHANNA!"
Angels in their flaming robes are incinerated by nuclear fire, the stragglers burning from bright blue light. Those foolish enough to come at us are vaporized in instants, those smart enough to flee aren't shown mercy. Johanna fires upon the whole world, and the dozens that had surrounded us are now ashes, ashen particles over Niijima's enraged screams and bloodshot eyes. Even in the rain the fires rage, the brume flies about the air, the horrible lights shine ever brighter.
Out of the flames, he comes; for a moment I'm brought back to Kaneshiro's, Beelzebub's grotesque form, but it isn't anything of the sort. The military gear has fallen, or rather melted, away into black liquids - Azazel bears bright red skin and wings as black as the night, a short pair of horns; most of him is falling apart. His black wings are losing feathers. His red flesh has only gotten redder and darker, bits of his supernatural skeleton showing through the burns and the liquified flesh.
All he can do now is scream, his eyes burning as his insides spill out his exposed stomach.
"STOP!"
Suddenly the hinges on massive doors behind us come loose, and they part in two, letting out from within the church this blinding white light the likes of which the fires can't even match. Shapes emerge from the light, mere silhouettes at first, but they become remarkably clear once they make their way down from the steps upon us.
Hideyoshi Tsukioka is a rather small man, halfway between the cat and Niijima's height; he is hunched over and bears a miserable gaze upon his craggly features. His wrinkled jowls accentuate his thick eyebags, small tufts of hair popping out the sides of his head. He is dressed in the pure white robes of a Pope, ornamented and red and gold designs, complete with a gleaming mitre atop his head. Rather than a cross on any of his features, instead lies a bold S.I.U. written vertically downward, in Impact font. In his right hand he carries a golden staff that's twice as tall as he is, a lantern swinging from a hinge at the very top. At his sides stand seven ten-foot tall guards, each about as tall as Azazel and each containing angelic names of their own.
Tsukioka's Shadow gazes upon us with bright golden eyes and another name peels through my head:
Alciel.
"Wretched outsiders. What do you seek to accomplish by coming here? I will not tolerate this assault on the House of God."
"Tsukioka-san...!" mutters Niijima.
"Thieves! State your business, and I may just leave you here alive. If it's battle you're after, we shall gut and bone and joint you until you pledge allegiance."
"Hideyoshi Tsukioka!" I shout at him, spreading my arms out wide like I'm Satanael, "We demand an audience! Your men so rudely presumed we were here to wage war; in truth, we have come for answers."
"HA! And what is it precisely, that makes you think you can demand such a thing from me, boy? Shall you steal my Treasure and cut out my heart? I should send you to the barracks and have the priests do with you as they will."
"Uncle Tsukioka, sir!" Niijima pushes past me, having dispersed Johanna; in an instant she takes off her mask, shows him her real face. "I want a word with you."
Tsukioka frowns, as if confused, but then understanding and recognition hit both at once. He hands the guard to his left his staff, and raises an arm up at the rest of his men to stand down for now. Into the pouring rain he steps, almost hobbling his way down the stairs over to us as he approaches, and he eyes Niijima in particular carefully, profoundly. An almost skeletal hand raises itself up to Niijima's face, and though the touch must disgust her he does nothing more than run his palm slowly down her cheek. As a grandfather would, to their grandchild.
"Mako-chan? Little Makoto-chan?"
Niijima has never sounded more disappointed, "Tsukioka-san..."
And the asshole just smiles widely, grabbing her into an embrace and lifting her right up from the ground into a great big bearhug. "Makoto-chan!"
"Ts-Tsukioka-san...!" Despite being a frail and tiny old man, he can lift and very nearly suffocate Niijima right on the spot, heaving all the wind right out her lungs with a single hug.
All at once, nobody knows what to do next, not even his fucking cognitive guards, and as he sets her back down and lets us all get our guards down he starts laughing in something like joy, "Look how you've grown! Last I saw you, you were just a little girl!"
"I-I'm still, a child, Tsukioka-san," she chuckles awkwardly, fumbling with what she could say next, "Tsukioka-san, I, you need to - we-"
"What are you even doing with these infidels, and what on earth are you even dressed as!?" he cries out, more jokingly outraged than anything else as he takes her by her hands, "Come in! We simply must bring you inside, gather you some new clothes! Your sister would be so happy to see you-"
"Tsukioka-san," she says firmly, strongly. "Stop. Just, just stop it. We...have come here - whatever it is, whatever you've done, whatever you've been doing with the yakuza, to the city, to its people, you need to stop!"
"What is it you're saying?"
Niijima exhales exhaustedly, putting a hand to her eyes as she shakes her head, lamenting just everything that's happened. "You...threw your lot in with the yakuza. You've associated yourself with criminals, murderers, rapists, and child pornographers. What...what even, how could you?"
"Makoto-chan, I don't know where exactly you're getting these wild accusations, but you-"
"Don't you dare lie to me!" she shouts furiously, and all his men raise their guns on reaction, but he tempers them back down. "You joined arms with Junya Kaneshiro! You made deals with yakuza! You enabled human traffickers and paid killers and you don't get to pretend you didn't! We put a stop to Junya Kaneshiro! We drove him to leave this city and one of the last things he told us was that you worked with him, you worked with his men! You've had people in your pockets driving others to mental shutdowns! Tsukioka-san!?"
She's said too much, and she knows it, but she doesn't care anyway, and none of us could have even stopped her in the first place.
Tsukioka just looks at her, almost ashamed, but then he just closes his eyes, and mutters coldly. "So it was you who drove Kaneshiro into hiding."
She blinks, mustering up a courage she doesn't even know she has yet, "Yes."
"You, then... are working with these, so-called Phantom Thieves of Hearts?"
"Yes. I am."
"Then you're far more foolish than I could have ever imagined. If you know what is good for you, you will abandon them all, focus on your studies, and become a proper member of society. Whatever you think you can gain by working alongside these miscreants is not worth your time."
It takes her a willpower I could never hope to even compare, to not strangle him to death right then and there. "Because enabling monsters like Kaneshiro is worth yours."
"You do not understand what it is I must do to ensure the safety of this city. They gave us the task to keep the streets clean, but business runs rampant regardless. And when your business is founded on blood and bone and bodies, you lose all concern for whatever the law might tell you. Especially when you make millions in months, from all your exploits."
"So that's it, then? Money? That's why you put up with all this, this horror, because you get a nice slice of the pie!?"
"Niijima, stop-"
Takamaki's attempt at reaching out gets rebuffed when Niijima whips her hand out her grasp, "What's wrong with you!?"
"Don't be so foolish to think I began this enterprise. This has been going on for years. I am merely the latest recipient. I am not the first, nor will I be the last. Kaneshiro was the newest and boldest in a line of murderers, but he was also one of the only ones able to consolidate the families firmly under his command. With what you've done, you and your little friends, you've caused more damage than you could possibly know. Families and clans are now chomping at the bit to become the next head of Tokyo, and for as much as I've attempted to ensure power is passed peacefully, it can only end in a bloodbath. Until one rises up and takes the place you forcefully vacated."
"So instead of putting a stop to them, you would work with them? Work to help them find a new monster to take charge, and then it's back to business as usual!? Everything you can do, with all your resources and all your connections, and you choose to let-!?"
"I have chosen none of this. It was the path set for me, upon me. It is my duty. This country has grown weak-kneed and stiff-necked. Corrupt bureaucrats and liars flood the masses with misinformation and deceit, and the unthinking children keep their heads down for fear of their own destruction. Whatever you think you can do to save these people, save the city, save all of Japan, it cannot be resolved by weeding out monsters or platitudes of righteousness. The enemy is all of us. It cannot be defeated. It must be made an ally. The Vortex World is a tool, and we must use every available tool to our advantage."
"What advantage could you possibly gain from shutting down people's minds?"
"A child like yourself cannot understand. Endless complications poison the well of every interaction. We are but cogs in a machine that must stay afloat, lest the world ends. The lives I end are put to an end, simply because they must be."
Niijima looks like she's about to cry, but she keeps this ferocious glare on all the same. "How could you? You and my father were friends. What would, what would he think of you?"
He smiles, a withered expression across his face. "Oh, Makoto-chan. I am afraid you did not know who your father was, to begin with."
"...what?"
"Are you certain you wish to join these unfortunates? If you do so, you shall be cast down into Hell, along with them."
"What, wait what, wait, what are you talking about, about my father, I...?"
"N-Niijima...?" I mutter, because of everything I've seen out of her up to this point, I've never seen her as bewildered as she looks now.
"There's so much you don't understand, Makoto-chan," he raises a hand to her cheek again.
"Don't touch me! What the hell are you talking about, my father!?"
"Queen, wait!" cries Maruki, but it doesn't even matter - she's already grabbed Tsukioka by the ornaments around his shoulders.
"Tell me the truth, you old withered bastard!"
All the guards raise their weapons and in an instant we're all about to fucking die again, I put a hand to my mask and I'm about to tell Satanael to do terrible things to all these fucking monstrosities but Tsukioka spoils the rush.
"Junya Kaneshiro was a valuable source of information. Unbelievably necessary for all our operations. What he knew, what he understood about the underworld; there was so much we were able to accomplish. So much we were able to do. Your father understood that, more than anything else."
"You're lying to me!"
"Your father lied to you all your life. It's unfortunate you had to learn the truth this way."
"Shut. Up."
"I'm so sorry, Makoto-chan-"
"I SAID SHUT UP!" she raises a fist up at him and she hurls it down with enough force to press a man's skull inward and crush his face -
"Niijima!"
KRACK
She crashes into us, mostly into me - her ribs utterly shattered and her lungs having forgotten how to breathe. She heaves and lurches and coughs out blood and drool as the cat dashes over and Takamaki and Maruki get to their feet, we see that all Tsukioka did was raise his open hand and smash it against her sternum.
"Niijima," I murmur, holding her in my arms, "Niijima! Breathe!"
"I'll take care of it from here!" cries the cat. "Hold her steady!"
"Takamaki, guard them!" cries Maruki.
"R-right!"
"Kill them all in however way you wish. Except Makoto Niijima. Leave her alive, such that she will learn the cost of rebellion."
Suddenly we all hear sirens come right out from nowhere, and out from the once empty streets a few dozen armored cars pull up, jackbooted motherfuckers decked in all black kicking the doors open and letting themselves out. Suddenly they burst into angelic forms of their own which produce many names in my head, Dominion, Throne, Virtue, Power - Niijima groans and huffs in my arms as she clutches at her mangled chest and throats out, "I'm going to kill you..."
"You are, aren't you? Pity."
"Salome!"
"Mercurius!"
"Adam!"
"We do not do this because we wish to or because we enjoy these miseries. We do this because the world compels us to. We are given an impossible duty, only achievable through impossible means. Corruption is not a degenerative force but an active participant, a natural order. To fight against it is the folly of a miserable child, an idiot girl blindly ascribing to the will and morals of a man who had never held any sincerity to begin with."
And she just pushes me off herself, "Johanna!"
She faces Tsukioka, looking like someone drained the fluids out her spine. Pushing her thumb through the holes in her large grey mask, and straightening her back to carry herself respectably in this godforsaken place, she says, "Hideyoshi Tsukioka! Prepare yourself! We are here to collect your heart! Surrender, or I'm going to send you to the deepest and darkest hole on the planet, and make you stay there for the remainder of your life!"
And I grin at the sight of her, "Satanael!"
And we prepare, Personas unshackled and raging and fuckin' alive, for the fight of our lives. And gunfire rages, the monsters all transform into their truest selves, blooming into winged beasts and angelic abominations and Tsukioka watches the proceedings unfold. And as blood showers the whole goddamn world, as we burn and rage and massacre these fucking coppers with the monsters of our hearts, as I see Niijima's fury let loose beyond the likes of anything I'd seen out of her before-
"Robin Hood!"
A spear of black light charges through the world, and causes a crater in the staircase leading up to the entryway. The crater is five feet deep, and two meters wide, and would almost certainly have killed Tsukioka, had he been standing right on the spot.
Immediately, the fighting stops.
And we all turn to the newcomer; a brown-haired man with a red long-nosed mask. He wears a white admiral's suit, a red capelet hanging over his shoulders, pure white gloves, and black shoes. He fixes his gloves before brandishing a glowing saber from his right thigh, and a toy ray gun from his left.
Behind him hovers an overly-muscular, heroic-looking figure; towering over the whole lot of us, his height only matching Satanael's. He bears a bright blue cape, a large RH across his chest, and a winged helmet which may very well be the mask of a superhero. His great golden bow is almost as large as he is, and as he raises the bow upward the arrow within flickers and rages with another dark light.
The man in the long-nosed mask looks at me, tilts his head, and widens his eyes. "Hikawa-san?"
And I recognize his voice at exactly the same time. "Akechi?"
.
.
.
This arc...will not be kind to Makoto.
Like. At all.
What Kana's arc was for Kazuya, this arc will be for Makoto.
Is all I'm gonna say, lol.
