Hello! Welcome to the first of many side story crossovers where my OC gets to get around! To all intents and purposes, this is not a crossover between Bayonetta and Persona 5, as much fun as that would be, but instead it will have some influence in the OC's actions.
With that being said, the OC here will not be as overpowered as he was in Eclipse and Solar Flare. Instead, he will be one of the weaker characters in this fic, and that's going to end up being a plot reason later on. (Also because Damien/Sephiroth could probably obliterate everyone in the Persona 5 universe and not break a sweat – and that's based on the power level comparison to Bayonetta herself.)
Will the OC have an impact on the story? Yes he will. Will he be a confidant and/or romance a few girls? We will see. Is the rest of Team Bayonetta coming over? No, they won't. Is it Ren or Akira? Akira.
So, without further ado, I present to you…
Strength of Heart
Prologue: An Introductory Sequence…
I own nothing from Bayonetta, Final Fantasy 7 or Persona 5.
The Gates of Hell.
Date: Unknown. Time: Unknown.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" The woman in red asked, staring over at the strange contraption with a look of wariness. "Nothing about this looks safe, let alone worthy of testing."
"I guarantee it will work." A bald man answered her. "I've already tested it on some poor demons already; it's bound to be safe."
"And how many of those Infernals came back unharmed?" The woman squinted, and the man laughed in response.
"Only the last one I sent came back. Don't worry, it will work. The dimensionator could be of use later on down the line." He added, still conveying the pitch to her. "You're gonna need it."
The machine in question was a large hunk of steel levers, pistons and god knows what formed into a precarious contraption. It was humming and buzzing with power, and an occasional tick made her jump with annoyance when it rang through the warehouse.
"I just don't want any of us to get hurt." She looked sullenly at the ground, then glared at the man. "Your last request ended turning Damien into a small cube for a day!"
"And we all laughed at him, didn't we?" He smiled in response. "Look, I'll give them the info. If they aren't willing to test, then they aren't willing to test. They just gotta pay me up in halos for their wasted time, and for their continued reliance on my support."
"You are going to blackmail us?" The woman's eyes bulged out. "First of all; how dare you-"
"It's business." The bald man cut her off. They locked eyes for a minute, neither willing to give into the other's demands.
"Fine!" The woman threw her hands into the air, losing this battle of wits. "I'll give them a call tomorrow. Then it's up to them."
"Good."
…
Tokyo, Japan
Date: Unknown. Time: 6:30 AM.
The train carriage was empty, except for a lone boy sitting near the door, his hands gripping his luggage tightly. His unkempt and shaggy hair hid his eyes from view, and his glasses kept them that way. He didn't know why he was hiding, though.
Guess it makes me look cool. He didn't know who he was trying to impress.
His name was Akira Kurusu. His crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time and being the good person in a horrible situation. His punishment was to be cast off, to be thrown away like a piece of junk for a year.
Probation… His face darkened as his memories began to take their waltz into his lane. Why did it have to be me?
"DAMN BRAT! I'LL SUE!"
"And you did. Thanks for nothing." He hissed to himself. He wished he had walked away. He wished he had never heard the voice crying out for help.
But somethings are simply not to be. He was not a bad person; his mother and father had drilled that into him. Now he was a bad person, and they were shipping him away, so he wasn't a burden anymore.
"This is Shibuya. This is Shibuya."
Right. He had to transfer here. Something to distract him from the memories. He walked off the train, keeping his head down respectfully. He was heading to Yogen-Jaya, to a man named Sojiro Sakura, and a whole year of his life being held in probation.
He wished he could've kept one friend.
Left here… Right here… He remembered each part of the route that he had drilled into his mind for the last week. And here.
The city square of Shibuya was frozen in front of him.
He looked to his left. He looked to his right.
He sleepily rubbed his eyes.
He slapped himself, then pinched his arm.
Not a single soul moved.
So what prank is this? He let his gaze wander around, trying to find the cause. Someone had to be terrible at acting. His eyes briefly stopped on a blonde girl, but then he smirked at himself.
Something told him she wasn't good at acting at all.
She was, however, still frozen. So either she was an amazing actor, or…
His frown returned, and then a bright blue flame caught his attention. His mouth opened slightly, and then a demonic face formed in the fire.
Then within seconds, he found that he was looking at himself. Except his eyes were yellow, and a cruel smirk graced his lips.
Before he could even begin to comprehend what was going on, a white light flashed in his eyes and the world continued to turn as normal. Akira blinked, then looked down at the ground.
It was going to be a long day.
…
A blonde boy stretched his arms, then looked down at his plaster covered leg in sadness. Today was the day it was coming off. Today was the day he wouldn't be the laughing stock of Shujin any longer.
Like he wouldn't be. He sighed to himself. He was always going to be the laughing stock of Shujin.
His name was Ryuji Sakamoto. His crime was standing up to authority, especially when that authority was a corrupted piece of shit. His punishment was his leg being shattered, and his dreams banished forever.
He chuckled to himself. That was pretty flowery. Ann would be impressed!
His thoughts darkened at the mention of the blonde girl, his former best friend. Well, she would be impressed if she could tear herself away from that shitty asshole… Seriously, what does she know to think of him in such a positive light?
"Ryuji!? Are you coming?" A voice called from downstairs. Putting his thoughts aside, he threw a smile onto his face and answered honestly and cheerfully.
"I'm ready, Mom!"
…
The blonde girl looked around the bustling town square, lost in her thoughts.
He wasn't here? Good. She could breathe a little easier. She could do her shopping, attend her shoot, maybe hang out with Shiho…
She knew he was here somewhere. It would be too good of a dream for a single day without his eyes staring at her, making her skin crawl.
Her name was Ann Takemaki. Her crime was being a foreigner in Japan, and a blonde one at that. Her punishment…
She blanched. She didn't want to think about him for now.
"Just enjoy the day, Ann." She whispered to herself. She cursed at how shaky her voice was. "Just enjoy the day and hope that he isn't here to ruin it."
She didn't notice the strange boy take a second glance at her, or the adult who was watching her three streets down.
…
The muse wasn't there today.
The boy raised his eyes to the canvas, then back to the paintbrush in his hand. Surely there was something he could paint. He could paint…
His eyes darted over to Sensei, and they hardened for a fraction of a second.
The brush wavered, then moved to an invisible rhythm.
An hour later, Sensei was appraising his work.
"I call it, Sufferings of Desire." He looked to the old man as he began to nod his head. "Do you like it, Sensei?"
"Yusuke…" The man smiled at him. "It's wonderful! A fine addition to my exhibit."
"Under my name, this time?" He asked hopefully. A small shake of his head made his stomach drop.
Then it rumbled.
"Paint something far more grander, and then your talent will have to be shown to the world. For now, you must be locked away, from impressionable desires." Sensei turned away. "Keep the work going, Yusuke. In no time, you will be a master artist."
His face fell as another wave of hunger swelled through him. He knew he needed food, deep down, but he needed that painting.
His name was Yusuke Kitagawa. His crime was never being good enough for Sensei. His punishment was to devote himself to the arts, until his piece finally saw the light of day.
…
The brunette girl stared at her hands, tears falling down her cheeks.
Sae had left her again. She had arrived home for the first time in a week, said a couple of words, then left her to herself again.
All she wanted was to talk to her about school. About how she was now the student council president. How she was still the top student. How she was getting lonely. How she was…
A sob escaped her throat, and she immediately clamped down on her emotions.
Her name was Makoto Niijima. Her crime was… well, she didn't know. Her punishment was facing the world faster than any girl her age should be and growing up faster than she needed to be.
Despair ate at her. Did her sister care enough to stay from work for more than five seconds to talk with her? Or was she just another burden for her sister's victory?
She was afraid to ask the question, let alone think about an answer for it.
"It's okay, Makoto." She looked up, wiping the tears from her eyes. "She loves you. This is her way of showing it."
…
A girl typed away at her computer, not bothering to turn around as she heard the tapping of someone at her door.
"You okay in there?" An elderly man called out.
She ignored him. He didn't care.
"Look, if you want, I'll get you that action figure you wanted." He wasn't leaving. "You do need it to complete your collection, right?"
The typing hesitated for a second, then continued. It's my fault. Stop making things out to be fine!
Her name was Futaba Sakura. Her crime was killing her mother. Her punishment was a slow and painful death as she withered away into oblivion.
"I just want you to know that I'm leaving for Le Blanc." The man finally walked away, and she let out the sob she was holding onto as her mother's voice finally reached her again. She slammed her hands onto her head, trying to block out the sounds.
I never loved you, you useless bitch! You, Futaba, are nothing but a waste of my life, a blight on my soul, a curse on my name! I wish you had never been born!
"Mom…" She cried as she wished for the hallucinations to stop.
…
A girl heard her father on the phone, and she turned around and retraced her steps at the sound of his words.
"Father… How could…" She shook her head. She knew exactly why this was happening.
Power. Greed. Lust.
Typical things a woman shouldn't be worrying about. Or so her Dad would say.
"Lady Okumura?" A servant stood in front of her, looking at her quizzically. "Are you alright?"
"I'm… I'm fine. Go along." She ushered them along, trying to walk with dignity back to her room.
As soon as her door was closed, she collapsed to her knees.
Her name was Haru Okumura. Her crime was being born. Her punishment was her life being stripped away from her, one aspect at a time.
She just wanted to be able to do something on her own. Something that only Haru could have done. Something she had done because she wanted to do it.
Not what her Dad wanted for her now.
…
The young detective stared at the prosecutors back as she walked away with a look of apprehension.
"You requested my help, didn't you?" He started, putting a smile onto his face. "Perhaps on this new case of yours?"
"I want your opinion on something." She snapped back at him, and he flinched at her tone.
Sae-San, what has gotten into you?
"Perhaps we could discuss this over sushi?" He asked politely. She stopped, sighed and turned to him.
"Conveyer belt only. I need…" Her eyes softened, then hardened. "No. The treat is on me. Take and order as long and as much as you like."
His heart sunk at her words. He wished that this was different circumstances, and he could help her.
But alas, he had a job to do.
His name was Goro Akechi. His crimes were many. His punishment was watching his friends and peers suffer for his actions.
How he longed to break those bonds.
How he longed to use his powers for his own benefit.
…
A small creature paced in his cell, cursing his own stupidity.
"How could I be this stupid?" He cursed himself. Then he cursed again. "Well, I didn't expect this to be hard."
Think logically. That was what every thief should do.
The palace was too well guarded. That meant it had been established for a lot longer than he thought. Perhaps it was a silly idea to come alone.
But then again, how many others knew of the metaverse? And from those, who could traverse it?
"Just wait it out, Morgana." He whispered. "You got this."
His name was Morgana. He didn't think he had any crimes, but then again, he thought that trespassing was fine enough. His punishment was probably death.
And just like that, his hopes fluttered.
"Come on…"
…
Akira stared down the man who would be his guardian for the next year. He was old. He was old-fashioned. And probably old-minded.
"So, you're Akira." Sojiro looked at him with an even expression. "You certainly look… normal."
He nodded in response, keeping his face neutral.
"Good. You know what's happened to you. Your parents told me the details yesterday. You tried to get into two adults' business. You claim he was abusing her, then you acted in self-defence and injured the man. Now you're here on a year of probation, and now I have to look after you." The man sighed and rolled his eyes. "Don't you dare forget it."
Akira swallowed, then nodded.
"One simple rule; you do anything, get in trouble with the authorities, in school, anywhere, and you are out." Sojiro held up one finger to emphasise his point. "One slip up, and you are onto the streets. Understand?"
"I understand, sir." His voice was low. It wasn't threatening, and nor was it meant to be. Sojiro tilted his head in agreement.
"Good. Now you are upstairs, and that's where you are going to live." He gestured to the stairs at the back at the restaurant. "You might want to clean up. I don't remember the last time I was up there. When I get your stuff tonight, I'll drop it off. Now scram."
Akira nodded for a third time, then dragged himself up the stairs to the view that awaited him.
…
It was 9:00 PM when the boy's luggage arrived. Sojiro sighed at the lateness of it all. He had been unable to buy that figure for Futaba since he happened to be sitting here waiting for the damn boy's luggage.
Like he was with Futaba's inevitable-
He shook his head. It's not time to think of this. Sighing again, he grabbed the trunk and began to carry it up the stairs. It was surprisingly light, considering its size. He almost wanted to open it, but even he had a sense of privacy.
"Right, here is your-" He stopped when he saw the boy sleeping, still in his clothes, on the small futon in the corner. The room was clean, much to his surprise.
"Perhaps you value your cleanliness after all." He smiled briefly, then turned his attention back to the sleeping boy.
His eyes were red, and obvious tear stains were splattered all over his face.
Perhaps he was too harsh on the boy.
Sojiro sighed for a third time in two minutes. He couldn't say this to his face, but he respected him. It wasn't a normal thing to help a complete stranger out, and then get completely fucked over by the justice system in retaliation. It kind of was reminding him of…
Sojiro chuckled. "Don't you worry your head. If anything does truly go south, I have your back about it. But I will kick you out if you don't follow the rules most of the time."
He then thoughtfully added. "If that's what the kids say nowadays."
…
The next day was a blur to Akira. He was being dragged about, from around the city, to his new school; Shujin Academy.
The principal had admonished him, his new homeroom teacher had blown him off, the young student council president had spent the entire meeting glaring at him and now Sojiro was talking him down again.
"…isn't that right, Kurusu-kun?" Now he was being glared at. "You promise all of that?"
"…I promise." His mouth was dry. "Can I-"
"No." The student stopped him with a glare. "You cannot."
"But-"
"That's final, Kurusu-kun." The red eyes glared harder. "You can't."
"We'll be going then." Sojiro stood up, grabbing his hat. "I have a restaurant to run."
"Good-day, Sakura-San." The Principal beamed, then directed his gaze to the newest member of his school. "We hope you have a good year at Shujin Academy."
Akira could only nod. After all, obedience is what he needed to remember forever.
He was then promptly pushed out of the door and into another student.
"Oh!" A young girl stared back at him. She was shorter than him, with chin length auburn hair that curled off into small bundles around her shoulders. "Sorry."
Akira didn't hear her. Instead he was trying to figure out the colours of her eyes.
He snapped out of his stupor and looked away bashfully. Sojiro looked over his shoulder and smirked.
"Well, what do we have here?" His smirked disappeared as soon as it came. "Please excuse us, lady, but we are in a hurry."
"Oh…" The girl stepped to the side, her head downcast. "Sorry again."
"Don't be." Akira immediately regretted the words as he said them. Here comes another scene, Sojiro is going to yell-
"No! It's okay, I'll be over here." The girl offered him a slight smile. "I'll be out of your way."
The pair left without looking back.
…
The ride home was strangely eventful. They got stuck in traffic, Sojiro blamed him, Akira felt alone once again.
This was going to be his life for a whole year.
His thoughts brightened when he remembered the girl. She didn't know. She didn't jump down his throat, immediately blaming him.
He looked out of the window and made a promise. A promise to himself.
Well, two.
The first was to use this opportunity as a clean slate. Make sure no one found out about his past, unless he felt he could trust them.
The second was to find out that girl's name, and the colour of her eyes.
…
Akira woke up in a strange place that night. His immediate vision was grey, his clothing was the black and white stripes of a convict, and chains tied him down.
He sat up, grunting under the weight of the metal, and looked to his right.
A man with a long nose was smiling at him.
"Greetings, trickster." The eyes looked like they were about to burst in glee. "To my velvet room."
…
"So, that's how you got here. That doesn't explain what the hell he is, and how you ended up in the Phantom Thieves."
"…"
"Are you going to talk?"
"…"
"Answer me, dammit!"
"…I'll only answer what is required of me, Niijima-San. My… It all hurts."
"Those bastards… Look, we don't have much time. You need to be quick about it."
"I will try. I promise you."
"Fine. Continue your story and stay to the truth."