.
.
.
It was always me versus the world
Until I found it's me versus me
Why, why, why, why?
Why, why, why, why?
Just remember, what happens on Earth stays on Earth!
We gon' put it in reverse!
— Kendrick Lamar, DUCKWORTH.
7 / 26 / 2016
It's a very familiar sensation of lights barraging me from all sides. I don't know where anything or anyone actually is, and I'm afraid if I open my eyes I'll find at least one of them incinerated. A ringing noise absorbs almost every other possible sound I could hear and given all this stimuli I really don't know what the hell's actually happening to me or anyone else here. And when the whole world's turning white and your ears can hear nothing but a shrill KREEEEE, things could only get worse when you've spent the last half hour exhausting yourself to the point of making your eyes bleed.
Case in point. When I'm able to conceive that all this madness has come to its inevitable end, my vision's almost too blurry to see and my ears can barely hear much of anything. I feel someone looping their arms under mine and I lift my head upwards.
My vision clears, almost immediately, and half of me wishes it didn't. Long black hair, green eyes. Freckles over her cheeks, over her nose. A school uniform I don't recognize. She's still wearing that bright red scarf around her neck and she's smiling at me. I haven't seen Kana actually smiling at me in so long the sight nearly drives me mad out of sheer confusion and sadness. It's at this point I discover that the dark skies have cleared into a bright, calming blue. That it feels like the summer air that I haven't let myself experience in all this chaos.
I look at her, for this is perhaps the last time I'll be able to see a relatively undistorted view of this girl. I'll be able to see her, perhaps as unsullied as the first day I'd ever met her. My chest and stomach drop when she faces me and lets herself smile, and I know she isn't really her, I know what's in front of me could hardly be even called Kana Kohaku.
"You tried your very best. She knows you did." She raises a hand up to my face and I feel as though I'm traveling back to some of the happiest and simultaneously most agonizing years of my life. "I knew you did. Thank you for this. Thank you, for everything."
She doesn't say another word to me, as if this mere cognition knows there's nothing at all to say anymore. Looming over her, over us all, is the jackal-headed Egyptian God of the Dead. They have come here, they have come to collect.
When I'm able to see again I find that Niijima's to my right and Yoshizawa's to my left, the both of them finding it in themselves to rise up from the ground. I immediately crawl over behind me, to the unconscious and less-whole Sojiro Sakura, and I'm unbelievably relieved to know he's still somehow alive and unharmed - and awake.
His eyes are wide and they all but glare at something, something behind me. I turn, and see Takamaki and Sakamoto pulling themselves up as the cat lifts a paw.
The Manikin of Wakaba Isshiki is collapsing, finally, into the red waters beneath her. Billowing clouds of smoke emerging from a hole in her chest and in her face - a molten crater right where her sternum ought to be. Niijima and I had blown a hole in its stomach so far and wide we cut it in half, but all Sakura needed to do was loose a single shot into her heart. Rather than explode into a flurry of gore, Mastema's massive half-cadaver has burned up from the inside out. What's left of her is charred and ashen, crumbling into dark mounds, collapsing into the waters. Whether it's because her Persona is just that powerful or if it's because she's finally put something to rest, I don't know.
The panzer tank dissipates in a rush of blackflame and suddenly we see Futaba Sakura, standing where it had once been. Dressed in a skintight spysuit with red patterns, she pulls up the goggles and sees her father struggling. Sojiro Sakura tries pulling himself upward, but it's difficult to do that when a hand has been severed entirely, when a foot's been carved away, when he's seen so much he's already exhausted just in five minutes of being here. So Sakura rushes herself over and pulls him up with her, standing up alongside him, alongside the rest of us.
"You're okay...," she says with tears in her eyes. "I...I should never have..."
"What did I tell you, Futaba?" He just pulls her in his arms, embracing her tightly. "No force on Heaven or Earth could ever change the fact you're my daughter. No force on Heaven or Earth will ever convince me you aren't worth it."
She weeps now, desperately hugging him back, "Sojiro..."
And they both hold each other as I would hold Masako, were she still alive - like they'll lose the other forever if one of them loosens their grip for even an instant.
Then the sarcophagus goes BOOM. The lid swinging open, releasing a blanket of steam.
"Fuck, another one!?"
Sakamoto and Takamaki summon their Personas, for they are the only ones with the strength to. I kneel, hands outstretched on both sides to guard Niijima and Yoshizawa, and the cat calls out, "Hold, wait! She isn't hostile! She's the Treasure!"
She's dressed in a sleeveless black top with tight black pants and heels. Bowl cut of dark hair, glasses over her eyes. She steps forward, slowly and deliberately - I see afterimages of her for every little movement she makes, as if she herself isn't a whole image, as if she's still a ghost. She steps out of the opened sarcophagus and walks, slowly over to us. I hear no demonic name blaring through my head.
She's standing before Sojiro and Futaba Sakura, her hands clasped together. She's smiling - not a smug or voracious kind, not a vicious or vindictive kind. It is a genuine one, a lovely one, one that makes me almost wish I could have known her while she lived. She kneels down to her daughter and the man who's taken her in.
"Futaba. Sojiro," she says, her voice echoing warmly.
"Mom...?"
"Thank you for choosing to remember the real me," she smiles, cupping her daughter's face. Then she turns to her father, "And thank you for being there for her... when time ran out for the both of us."
He's trying, desperately, not to cry - to remain the strong father figure his daughter needs him to be, especially now. "Wakaba..."
"Don't try to act tough around me," she chuckles, wiping at the edges of both his eyes and cupping his face. "You and I know we're both as far beyond that as we could possibly be."
With his one remaining hand he clutches her right, pressing her palm into his cheek. His face clenches in anguish and love and nostalgia, and whatever feelings he'd buried deep within from her death are raised up and out and back from the grave. "I've never stopped missing you. I don't know if I ever will."
"I wish I could have come by a lot more than I did. I wish I could have done so many things with the both of you."
"M-Mom..."
"Look how you've grown," she says, cupping her daughter's face now. "I wish I could have seen you graduate. I wish I could have seen you take the world by storm. One way or another you'll do it, I know you will. You've always had it in you."
"I... ah-ha," Futaba Sakura begins laughing, laughing as she cries, laughing and sobbing in the happiest and saddest ways imaginable, "I... Mom, I haven't been doing too well at all, and you know that. I...," she slumps into her mother's breast, "I haven't been doing well at all. I haven't had anything you saw in me since the day you gave birth to me. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry I was such a shit to you, all the time. I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I couldn't get a handle on myself and be a normal girl. I'm sorry for everything I've done and everything I've been."
"I saw the most beautiful thing in all the world the day I gave birth to you. I saw someone I'd guard with my life, from now until the end. I saw someone who cried constantly. Who didn't know how to talk to people, because I didn't know how to talk to people either. Someone who'd get angry and depressed at the drop of a hat, and turn unbelievably happy just as fast. I saw someone who'd devote all her attention only to things that mattered to her, someone who wouldn't waste her time on anything less, because she knew what she wanted and nobody could stop her. I saw you, Futaba. Every step of the way."
"Please don't leave me again."
"I never left. Not once."
"I love you, Mom."
"And I love you, Futaba. I'll always love you."
Futaba Sakura weeps in her parents' arms right then and right there. Kana approaches her, as does the cognition of her father, and in this quieted moment of solidarity between this broken woman and her destroyed family. I can hear Takamaki, Niijima, and Yoshizawa crying along with them. I see Sakamoto plopping himself on the ground, utterly exhausted. I can feel something stirring, something strange deep in the center of my chest.
And then I feel nothing at all after collapsing upon brick.
.
.
.
7 / 27 / 2016
I awaken and when I do it's so late the sky's gone dark.
I'm lying in a futon on a cold wooden floor. Next to me I see Niijima sleeping as well, facing me. Her breathing's slow, but it's there, and I'll always be grateful that it's there. As I pull myself up I wonder if her Palace-ruling sister's fuming over not knowing where the hell she's been, and I see we're in the very same attic I'd seen Sojiro and Futaba Sakura commune before she got herself and him inside the Palace.
I see Sakamoto and Takamaki sleeping side-by-side, against the shelf next to the bed where Sakura had lain. Yoshizawa's in a third futon at the foot of ours. It's at this point that the headache hits and the anxiety rises again. Where is Futaba Sakura? Had we actually done anything? Had we saved her? Are everyone else's parental figures going to kill them for staying out of the house for so goddamned long?
Niijima stirs soon after I've sat myself up and I hear her groan, I see her pull herself upright. Her hair's all messy and unkempt, her eyes are drained, but when she opens them, when she sees me...
When she sees me and I see her.
She's just as happy as I am to see she's still alive.
"There's curry downstairs, if you'd like it. Had it stored in the fridge a while ago, I could heat it up if you'd like."
We see Sojiro Sakura coming from the stairs leading up from the bottom floor and when he stands before us we the both of us can find absolutely nothing at all to say. He is standing on one leg, using a crutch to support himself. He is missing his right hand, his left foot. Yet he merely looks tired, not traumatized, not absolutely batshit from everything he's seen and endured. If I had a tenth of this man's fortitude I'd have gotten over myself a long time ago.
"Good thing it's summer, huh?" he's smirking somewhat and turning back to the stairs. We get up and out of our futons and rush over to him, following him down the steps. "Futaba and your talking-cat friend filled me in on what the hell actually happened last night... a lot of it I still don't actually understand. Palaces, Treasures, cognition and shit. Still don't know everything. But whatever. I'll pick up the pace soon enough. App's in my phone. Been quite informative..."
How is he adjusting so well to having lost two limbs in the span of a couple seconds, on top of everything else? Niijima pleads, "Sir, excuse me, but-but you really need to rest-"
"Futaba cleaned her room today."
"...what?"
"She hasn't cleaned her room in all the time I've known her. She wouldn't even let me clean it... but she fixed it up herself, today. You can meet her, if you'd like. She wants to see you."
I step in, "Sir. Boss. I..."
Places his stump of a hand on my shoulder and whatever word I tries to say dies as I notice the hand that is no longer there. Moving forward he gets me and her closer and closer to a booth in the corner until we're forced to sit right down.
"I'll have to call you in for longer hours," he begins, turning back to the kitchen and counter. "Make you work for more. Won't be able to make coffee like I used to, now I'm like this." Guy's able to support himself on the crutch using his forearm as he pulls open the fridge. "I don't just have curry. There's beef soup, some chicken here and there..."
"Sakura-san, I-I'm sorry that we couldn't - we can't possibly impose -"
"Don't talk stupid. Eat, you're both skin and bones," he shuts the door with a leg and stuffs the innards of a tupperware box into a pot he'd prepared on the stove. Pulling up a seat with his free arm he sits down and begins fucking stirring like a master chef with one hand-
"Sakura-san!" I get off the booth and march over, grabbing the stirrer out of his hands, and motioning to shut off the stove, but he grabs my arm, his single remaining hand which is only single and remaining because we weren't fast enough to help save the other. "We'll take you upstairs," I declare, "get you in the bed-"
"I'm not that old."
Niijima comes over, takes his forearm, "You're missing your hand and foot and it's all because of us, just let-!"
"Neither of you've nothing to apologize for."
"You can't mean that."
"You all gave me my daughter back. That's worth far more than anything I lost last night." As we both look at him, in stunned silences, like we're total fucking dumbasses - he looks at the pot as he shifts the oven open once more, the flame beneath bringing it to a boil. "Futaba's mother developed the recipe for this curry, you know?"
"What?"
"Of course you didn't know, I didn't tell you."
"She...," Niijima shakes her head, "wait, sir, I-I'm sorry, but you need to-"
"Just listen. You rush ahead like you've all got something to do, would it hurt you to stop and listen?" he chuckles.
"I..."
"I met Wakaba first when I still did work for the government. She was real trouble, but I'm sure you know that all too well. Logic prevailed over emotion for her, and she had an intricate grasp of the human mind. It was almost impossible to keep up with her. If you thought Futaba was a handful... I thought my pick-up lines were best in town, but not a single one worked on her. Men are idiots, though. We spend all our time running after things we'll never get. Wakaba rejected me, time and time again.
The one time I managed to surprise her, was when I made her a plate of my homemade curry. Very next day she came in and asked about all the ingredients and what goes into the cooking process... few days after that she handed me a scientifically-enhanced version of my recipe. It was incredible. Miles ahead of anything I'd made. My curry was the basis, but it was almost as if it had become a whole new breed unto its own. It was her specialty. Futaba came to love it just as much as she and I did.
This curry is one of the last remaining connections she had to her mom, and she wouldn't eat it at all for two whole years. Ever since Wakaba died. Today she came into the store and tried cooking it for me, herself. I saw her, as I hopped down the stairs, and she handed me a crutch she'd expedited over here. She told me she wanted to cook it for me but she hadn't really cooked anything for herself before then so of course it burned up in the pot. I worked with her, we made it together, and we ate it and it she thought it was delicious. And it was, it was very delicious. She begged to have more time to practice it so she could make it for me one day."
I take in a deep breath. Niijima takes me by the hand, then faces Sojiro Sakura, "We'd be honored to try some."
"He had some already," Sakura grins, "handed a plate his first day here. Was planning to have you eat here regardless - kids as scrawny as you can't afford not to take breakfast, or lunch. This will be done in around fifteen minutes or so. It's just reheating. You should talk to Futaba as soon as you're done."
"Should we wake up the others...?"
"Nope." Niijima yelps as we look down, the cat coming through between our legs. "They dragged you both out the Palace, and that was a whole exhausting process on its own. We survived earthquakes because o' them. They deserve the rest - mrow!"
Boss grabs it by the scruff, shoving it in my arms. "I told you you can't stay here. Can't afford cat-hair in the food."
"But a cute animal mascot would be good for business!" it cries out.
Man raises his brow. "True, but keep yourself out of the kitchen. You can stay in the attic, I'll hand you some rice or something."
"Rice!? Gimme fish! Who the fuck eats rice anymore-"
"On second thought, we should check on her now," I tell Niijima.
"Okay," she turns to Boss, "we'll make it back here, once we've met with your daughter. We'd love to give your curry a try."
"Alright," he grins warmly. "Go on, get outta here."
Outside the house are piles upon piles of garbage bags. Niijima, the cat, and I work our way up the stairs to her room and we don't even need to knock, it's open. It's been completely cleaned out, giving it a sort of minimalist look. Save her mattress, a couple toys on the shelves and cupboards, some consoles and other machines. She's currently at her desk, tapping away at a laptop we never saw or noticed until now. There's a printer to her left.
"You're up," she says, swivelling in her chair over to face us. "Good to know."
She's dressed in striped pyjamas, blue and white. What really gets us is what's changed up top.
"Your hair..."
Bright orange flowing hair. Straightened out almost effortlessly. Down to her back.
"You like? I dyed it just earlier today. What do you think?"
"How are you not exhausted...?" Niijima wonders aloud.
"I made myself some coffee. I'll get some rest later. A lotta things to do. A lot of things to track." Girl unplugs a one-terabyte harddrive from her laptop and hands it to us. "Contains several document files. Informations and lists of mental shutdown victims over the course of the past two years or so. These are all I've managed to grab, but I'm sure police have managed to track down a couple more that've been kept secret from the public."
"You managed to dredge all this up so soon?" I ask her.
"Why do you think I needed the coffee? News articles didn't give enough information so I scoured a few other obscure sources. Considered hacking into police databases, but I'm not that crazy or stupid. These are all the names I've managed to find. Downloaded articles on each, trying to come up with commonalities and see if we can determine a pattern. You'll both be receiving new cellphones pretty soon."
"New cellphones-?"
"You need burner phones. If I can hack into your bank accounts and shit, then surely someone out there with a further reach than me can search through your phones remotely. Expedited delivery. Should arrive fairly soon."
"Sakura, wait, this is all so sudden...," Niijima tries stepping in, but it means nothing whatsoever.
"As sudden as you revealing to me I had this fucked-up internal mental world born of my depression?"
I shrug, "Maybe not as sudden as that, I suppose."
She sighs, "Yeah. Maybe not. If I had been more honest with myself, Sojiro would still have an arm and a foot. If I was willing to face myself sooner, none of you would have gotten hurt at all." She gets up, from her chair, and bows to us both. "I want to thank all of you. You saved my life. You showed me what I needed to do, helped me realize what actually mattered, above all else." She approaches me then. "I forgive you. I forgive you for what happened to Kana."
Niijima just stares at this whole situation, watching it unfold without a word.
I take in a deep breath, "You... you do?"
"I told her about what happened in the Palace," says the cat. "What you did and what you went through. That you tried your absolute best."
"He told me about what she looked like. About her cognition of you. About her cognition of the whole world." She shakes her head. "I know how screwed up I was... I know how screwed up I still am. Can't imagine what it must have been like for her or you. I'm sorry."
"Yeah."
"And I apologize for putting you through all that shit I put you through at the beginning of all this."
"Yeah, I'd - I'd rather not dwell on that again."
"Is there anything we can do to help?" asks Niijima.
"Mmm, look for any info on your end I couldn't track down in the list of names." She gets back in her chair and swivels around, facing her computer again. "You and the cat get out. I need to speak with him alone."
"What, why?"
"Personal matter. You both need to leave. As in, the house. I don't want you standing outside the room, listening in. I don't want you listening in through your phones, either. I'll know. This is a private conversation."
Niijima's concerned, of course, but I just nod. Though worried, she nods back, and leaves along with the cat, who advises me, "Scream if anything happens."
I turn off my phone. After a few minutes, when we're absolutely certain they've left the house, when Sakura pulls open her blackout curtains and sees them standing outside anxiously... that's when she's able to speak to me freely.
"I thought you'd have hated me for longer," she sighs.
"I don't have the energy to hate more than one person nowadays."
"Like how I don't have the energy to hate you anymore?"
"Pretty much."
"Does she know?"
"About what?"
"About your Kingdom."
I smirk. "How do you know about that?"
"Cat told me about Kingdoms and Palaces when he began explaining everything and on a whim I searched you up. You and your dad. Both of you've Kingdoms. You know about your dad, I'm assuming."
"I do know, but imagine if I didn't. You'd have destroyed my whole world right this very second."
"Right. So does she know about you and your Dad? Do any of them know?"
"I don't know. I can't exactly ask if they do know."
"Right. Well...," she exhales. "When we all left my Palace, the whole place began quaking and trembling like mad. It was a nightmare. You and your girlfriend there were incredibly lucky to have been asleep throughout it. But we got out pretty quickly, all things considered."
"Cat said something about an earthquake," and I narrow my eyes, "and Niijima isn't my girlfriend."
"Good for her. You as a couple wouldn't last. Now. In my Palace, you told me about a group of people who specialize in triggering mental shutdowns, and you asserted that my mother was a victim of theirs. After combing through so much shit to find out if whether or not what you said was true, I'm inclined to believe that you're actually right in all this. That there is this group of people, called Shijima, who killed my mom. I read through the police report of Masako's death again, earlier today... and now a lot more things make sense to me."
I eye her. "Do they."
"You want to find them. Don't you, Hikawa-san?"
"Yes."
"And what are you going to do once you find them?"
"I'll kill them."
"As I would. Do they share this sentiment? Niijima, and the others?"
"Niijima doesn't want to kill anybody. The others don't even really know much about Shijima at all. I've barely mentioned it around them. In any case, they don't have a grudge. Not yet."
"But Niijima does want to put a stop to them, too?"
"She does."
"And you're working with her on that front?"
I exhale. "I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"Like I said. Niijima doesn't wanna kill anybody. But... if ever I do find them. If somehow I manage to put a stop to them without killing them, I don't know if I'd be able to live with myself after the fact. Knowing they'd still live."
"So you're stuck in the same anger I'd been in. Except you've consciously accepted it."
"Yeah."
"By the way. What did you do to Matsubara?"
"Who?"
"The guy in the TV shop. In Akihabara. What did you do to him? How'd you make me lose his signal?"
"What do you think I did to him?"
She stays silent for a few seconds. Turns back to her laptop. "Probably what I would have done, if I had a Kingdom and I were where you had been."
"Yeah."
"Do any of them know about that?"
I don't answer her, even as I leave out the door of her bedroom.
I get back to Niijima down below, pointedly answering all of her questions about what Sakura and I had spoken about, with a simple, "We should check on Maruki."
Not the greatest excuse of all time, I know. But I'm too tired to really consider another way to get someone as stubborn as she is off my back.
I don't look at Niijima, though she reaches out to me as I enter the clinic. We leave the cat sitting outside, because pets aren't allowed entry.
Doctor at her desk - above her, bolted onto the wall are lightboxes and x-ray scans, with sticky notes peppered all over. She swivels in her seat to face me, handing me a paper bag. "Medication. Sleeping pills and digestive enzymes. Includes a list of food he needs to eat to recoup his strength. Call me in case anything goes wrong."
"Thank you so much," I approach her - she's standing at the door - and pull out my own paper pack from inside my coat.
Doctors in Japan like to look humble. Face-to-face they'll reject monetary gifts, but eventually accept them with the simple justification that the grateful families of their patients just kept pushing. But this lady, with dark blue dyed hair, goth clothes and exquisitely long legs - just snatches the money right out my hand. "He didn't have any wounds on him, and his blood level's alright. But he needs bedrest. Shouldn't go out, shouldn't put himself through anything particularly stressful."
Ignore how Niijima looks so goddamn concerned when you push past her and enter the room Maruki's in. Ignore the fact that she and you both look like you need several more days' worth of sleep. Ignore that you still feel guilty as shit that you're such a fucking idiot that you couldn't help a single girl with her mental problems, to the point where you had demanded that other people come with you just to rein in your psychopathy.
"Kazuya..."
But am I going to ignore how relieved I am, when I enter this tiny little clinic and find Maruki sitting up in one of the beds held in the back?
Yes, I am. "You're doing okay?"
"I...I'm alright."
Clinic looks really small on the outside but it's rather sizable on the inside. Couldn't really pay attention before. A couple dozen beds. No staffing whatsoever. Means this doctor's underfunded, dreadfully incompetent, or so competent she doesn't need staff.
Maruki's not hooked up to an IV or any other type of medical apparatus, though he is now dressed in a patient's gown.
"Did... did you manage to beat the Palace...?"
"Yes."
"A lot's happened," Niijima says.
Takes us a few minutes to tell him, and his absolutely relieved expression turns to one of shock and horror when we reach a certain point.
"YOU BROUGHT HER INTO THE PALACE!?"
"Yes."
"Wh-why!?"
"After we got you to the nurse's, Sakura called us," Niijima cuts in. "I told her everything we learned about her mother and cognitive psience, from her Palace. We convinced her to trust us after we showed her her Palace."
"Y-you mean she...?" Maruki looks profoundly happy yet immensely depressed. "You brought her into her Palace, and she...?"
"I felt it was our only choice," she says. "Given that her mental state is unstable as it is, and will most likely result in another Kana situation if we steal her heart, perhaps our best bet actually is to trust her. To have her come to terms with every single suppressed memory, on her own terms. I felt trusting Sakura to have personal agency in the matter would have been best…"
"Well... it worked out, right?"
"In the end. But now her father knows about Palaces, and he's missing an arm and a foot."
"Oh my God."
Continuing, "He found us after we'd come out of the Palace with Sakura in tow. Demanded we explain what was going on. We showed him. For like, half a minute. Then Sakura brought him into the Palace with her on accident and he got... well. Injured."
"Okay, so—" guy massages his temples, "what about Dante then?"
"He helped us."
He shook his head, "How did that happen…?"
"I wish I knew," Niijima exhales.
"He's now a Persona. Bit too strong for me to use normally, so I kind of have to use him as a last resort. But yeah. We did it. For better or for worse."
"That's wonderful," he smiles. "Thank God..."
"Let's go. Her father's preparing curry for us. For dinner. Have you eaten?"
Stomach rumbling noise answers that question.
"I'd love...," he chuckles, "I'd love anything, at this point."
I wanna ask him so many questions.
Questions about what he'd told Futaba Sakura's Shadow.
About what he had done to Rumi, his fiancée, and how he'd undone her pains.
But that's for later. Because now he's tired as shit and wearing the same clothes that he wore just yesterday, and I don't have the heart to be an asshole after all he did for me and for Sakura and for everyone else.
When we return to the coffee shop we have three new reasons for Niijima to not really dwell on Sakura's conversation with me, and they're all over the place.
"Right on time for dinner," says Sojiro Sakura.
Sakamoto, Yoshizawa, and Takamaki are awake now. Well, mostly. They're obviously still rather exhausted more than anything else. Sakamoto's setting plates and utensils, Yoshizawa and Takamaki helping Sakura with the ingredients. Yoshizawa notices who's come in the door after us and is elated.
"Doctor Maruki! You're awake!"
Maruki looks haggard, his hair even messier than it normally is. His eyes are somewhat manic, but if you've seen what he's seen yours would be too. It's a miracle he's still smiling. "Yoshizawa-san..."
"What's going on here...?" I ask.
"Ryuji woke up first!" Takamaki answers. "He saw Old Man Sakura trying to cook up some beef soup or something and asked to help, we followed one after the other."
"Beef soup? I thought you'd just be reheating curry," Niijima shakes her head.
Sojiro Sakura sees us enter, remaining hand still with the stirrer spoon. He just smirks dryly. "I thought you'd be better off with a feast." Then he turns to Maruki. "Now who are you supposed to be."
"My name is… Maruki. I-I'm a therapist. I need to—" he clears his throat, "you're… you're Futaba Sakura's father."
"Adoptive, though I don't think we've met. You with these kids?"
"I... was with them during the venture into..."
"Into that bizarro world. Right?"
"In your daughter's Palace. I was...incapacitated partway through the place, so they brought me to the nurse's just near here."
"I see. Well, you look like you've been through as much hell as these kids have been. Take a seat."
"You should have headed home the instant you woke up. Aren't your parents worried?" I ask them.
"No," Sakamoto notes. "Told Mom I'd be sleeping over at a friend's before buying the pizza, remember?"
"Sorry, I don't remember." I think primarily because I was too mentally drained at the scheme to really take in anything at the time.
"'Sides, I'm lucky my mom wants me to stay outdoors. Thinks it's good for me to get fresh air and shit."
"My parents are always out on business trips," Takamaki shrugs. "Fashion designers and all that. So I don't really have to worry about them."
I turn to Yoshizawa. "What about your father?"
"He had to go on a business trip of his own at the beginning of summer," she exhales. "He's coming home tomorrow because I hadn't answered any of his calls before now."
"Oh. Sorry to hear that."
"I'll be sure to speak with him," Maruki assures her.
"Hey Maruki, help me with this," Sakura suddenly calls, from the kitchen.
"I'll handle that! Maruki, just sit down," Takamaki asserts, getting a pair of oven mitts hanging from the wall. "Ryuji, get the rice bowl."
"On it."
"You really don't have to-"
"Already doing it!"
She carries a large pot of what smells like the curry from earlier, and places it down on the table before us all - aforementioned rice bowl is set right next to it, along with another bowl of the aforementioned beef soup.
Sojiro Sakura grins. "You're all skin and bones. Futaba had dinner before all of you. Go on right ahead."
Pot opens and it's massive and smells absolutely wonderful, some small victory that they all absolutely deserve after last night. It has a reddish soup with potatoes, carrots, and chicken. That might not sound particularly appetizing to you at all, but considering we're all exhausted to the point of madness, it's perhaps the best thing we've all laid our eyes on in the past two days. Sakamoto immediately grabs a chunk of rice and a large scoopful of curry, absolutely uncaring of everyone else at the booth, and the combination of both makes him weep profusely right on the spot.
"R-Ryuji-"
Ignoring Takamaki, he gets up out the booth immediately and walks over to Sojiro Sakura, embracing him and crying and pleading, "PLEASE marry my mom and make this everyday. I'm beggin' ya, boss. Please. Please, she'll have you, and she's a lovely lady-"
"Not marrying anyone anytime soon," Sakura gets Sakamoto off of him, "but feel free to come here and for curry any time you like. Hell, bring your mom."
"For free!?"
He grins. "I make coffee and curry, not miracles. This is a one-time thing, kid."
"Is it really that good?" Takamaki asks.
"Yes," I and Sakamoto say simultaneously.
She grabs rice and some sauce and stuffs both in her mouth and immediately starts crying as well. Places her chopsticks down and says to Sakura, "My parents are really well-off fashion designers. If we hire you as our personal chef the pay will be worth it, I guarantee it."
Yoshizawa chuckles a bit, perhaps the first light in her eyes since I brought her into that fucking horrible place, and she begins adding to her plate. I turn to Niijima, she shrugs, and we get plates for ourselves. Soon enough we're all chowing down and we're all in love, we're all either silently or not-so-silently prodding Sojiro Sakura to produce more and more and more of this nectar of the gods. Even the cat gets the fish it cares so goddamn much about. Maruki just smiles as he eats, tired but fulfilled, and I promise myself to do something to make just fucking everything up to him. And not break that promise, not forget it exists, not drag him into something else fucking horrifyingly atrocious. By the time it's over, we all of us are so fucking full we might just fall asleep in these booths, right on the spot.
"That...," Takamaki exhales, "that was delicious..."
"Glad you like it," Sakura smirks, sitting at the counter, on a tall stool. "Thanks for the help. Good to know it's still delicious."
"I'd work here every day if it meant food like this," Sakamoto chuckles half-jokingly. Then he sees Sakura's face and how stone-cold it is, and he asks, "Wait, can I?"
"I could use another helping hand."
"Could you teach me how to cook this?"
"Sure."
"Nice! Okay! I got a job! I'm not just mooching off my mom anymore!"
"You'll be working with him," he tilts his head in my direction, and Sakamoto scowls if only for a second.
"Eh. Worth it."
I stick a hand out, "Good to be working with you, Sakamoto."
"Shut the fuck up."
"Love you, too."
I turn. Niijima's next to me. She looks surprisingly downcast. Hasn't touched her food as much as the others have. Just circles her fork around the rice and the sauce. I feel all but compelled to ask, "Something wrong?"
"Nothing. I'm just... thinking," she says.
"Is the food alright?" asks Yoshizawa. "I wondered if I added too few spices..."
"N-no, it's not that. The food is perfect. It's all just... it's nothing."
"Doesn't seem like nothing," Boss says.
If she doesn't want to talk about it, nobody here should pry. But Boss sees what I see. There's this glint in her eye, that tells her this is nowhere near the right time nor place for this. But she feels compelled.
She looks at us all. At everyone here.
Everyone except me.
"It'll sound stupid. But..."
"But what?"
"Morgana. Anyone could have a Palace, right?"
"Mmmm," it gulps down bones and scales and all, "yeah. Anyone with a strong, distorted desire."
"Yeah. Anyone. And... I'm sure there's a lot of them out there. Aren't there?"
"Oh, there's millions of 'em," cat grins greedily. "They're all over the place. Like ants on a lion."
"Right. I'm thinking...," she chuckles, shaking her head. "This will sound patently ridiculous, but..."
"Are you saying you wanna continue stealing other people's hearts?" Yoshizawa asks, to which everyone turns to her.
"We spoke with Sakura today," Niijima nods. "She's...I wouldn't say she's recovered completely. But she's on the road to it. We did that much. We were able to change someone's heart and heal them of their wounds. Maybe I could find other people. Maybe I could help them, too. Or at least put a stop to other abusers or other madmen roaming the streets and doing whatever the hell they please. In any case... I've been thinking about this for a good long while, now. I want to give it a try."
Sakamoto narrows his eyes. "What, you wanna do this shit full-time?"
"As far as I'll be able to go, I suppose?" she shrugs. "I doubt I'm nearly strong enough for it..."
"You could be," cat says. "You've gotten enough of a hold on your emotions to know when and where to unleash 'em. Get a firmer grasp on it through a training regimen or two and soon enough you'll be able to consistently rival even Kaz."
She blinks at it, then turns to me. "You mean that...?"
"How did any of you even find out about these mental worlds in the first place?" Sakura shakes his head.
I just answer, "Very very long story involving rapists on campus."
"God. Say no more."
Niijima continues. "It's more than likely that none of you would even want to continue through with any of this. And there's no way I could blame any of you. But I feel... I feel that if going into Palaces, and changing the hearts of people who need it can make the world a better place, if even for a short while, then I'll do it. To stop them from hurting anyone else. To give something back to the people they've hurt. To help people heal from the hurt they've already endured. I'm hoping..."
She tents her fingers and lowers her head into her hands, covering her eyes.
"I'm hoping at least one of you here feels the same way."
And for a time none of us is able to say anything. Least of all myself. Sakamoto just lifts his head up to the ceiling and stares at the lightbulbs overhead. I turn to Maruki and even he doesn't really know what to say either. None of us knows.
Except one, and she comes through the front door.
Futaba Sakura emerges, laptop in hand. She's wearing a dark green parka, knee-high boots, and belted-on black shorts. "I'm in."
And everyone's just shocked, either because of PTSD from her Shadow in the Palace, or they're just straight-up surprised to see her.
"S-Sakura-san!?" cries Yoshizawa.
"Futaba, you should be in bed," says her father.
"So should you! Instead you started cooking!" she plants the laptop down on the table.
"How did you know what we were talking about-?" I stop myself then. "Oh."
"Yeah, sorry, still haven't removed the bugs."
"Bugs? You've bugged the place?" cries Boss.
"I mean, somebody's gotta keep an eye on you, old man," she snickers, tapping away at keys, as code is reflected from the screen onto the lenses of her glasses. "Makoto Niijima. That's your name, right?"
"Y-yes...?"
She's not even looking at her or any of us as she says all this, "Sister's name, Sae Niijima. Prosecutor lady. Kind of a bitch, no offense. She'd be a little catty to Sojiro every now and again. Anything you can procure offa her would help do us good as far as lookin' for Palace Rulers are concerned."
"What...?"
"Your sister wanted more insight into cognitive psience, so she approached Sojiro repeatedly for information concerning my mother's findings. 'Cause my Mom was a big goddamn revolutionary in the field and all that. But Sojiro didn't trust her, and why the hell would he, and I'm fairly certain she'll eventually try holding CPS shit over his head to try and get him to talk."
"What!?" cries Sojiro.
"I looked through her search histories from time to time," Sakura continues, "on days where she was being more pushy than normal. Found that she was looking up child custody laws. I assume she'll try pulling some loophole-y shit when you don't give her what she wants enough times."
"Oh my God...," Niijima exhales. "I'm so, so sorry..."
"Don't be," Sakura asserts, still tapping away. "Just see if you can get me anything...," and then she pulls out a USB from the side of her laptop, "about these mental shutdown cases, on here."
Niijima stares at the stick, utterly mortified. "You want me to hack into my sister's computer and procure her files."
"You're not doing much hacking, you'll just need to insert the stick. It'll have to be in there for... two minutes, tops. No pressure."
Of course her father doesn't want her involved in any of this. "Oh my God, Futaba, you can't do this, you'll just-"
"Someone killed Mom, Sojiro," she turns to her father. "Someone made her go insane and rush into the street, headlong into a car."
He's confused, and I'd be too. Shijima must have been withheld from him up 'til now, cause fuck how do you explain that so soon. "Futaba, what are you saying-"
"It's possible to manipulate one's mental faculties into suffering a mental shutdown," the cat cuts in. "Wakaba Isshiki was one such victim of that. These incidents have been on the rise these past few years, no?"
"I'd see them on the news," he cringes. "You're telling me... someone's responsible for that?"
"A good number of people. At least three," I declare. "That's as far as we know."
"And you're sure Wakaba was one of them...?"
"A lot of people wanted her research," his daughter remarks, closing her laptop. "And I'm fairly certain they wouldn't want word to get out about the cognitive world, about the methods they use to achieve their goals. About the alternate dimensions they enter, to commit crimes scot-free and frame other people for it."
"And none of this is speculation?"
"Oh, it's real. It's all real," I declare, getting up off and outta the booth just to face him head-on.
"What the fuck," he groans. "What the hell are kids doing these days...? You really expect me to let you take my daughter out on some revenge quest, to get rid of a nebulous shadow organization that's responsible for driving people mad?"
"It's not a matter of letting me, Sojiro." Futaba Sakura stands up and grips her father's shoulders. "I'll do this with or without your permission."
"Futaba."
"Take out my internet, I'll find a way to plug it back in, maybe hack into our neighbors'. Throw out my computers and laptops and I'll just head on down to an internet cafe. I know how to cover my tracks real well in public. Ground me or take away my consoles or throw me in jail, I'll find these people and I'll put them down."
"What if you die!?" he suddenly shouts, pushing her arms away from him. "What if they decide to get rid of you like they got rid of Wakaba!? Huh!?"
"What if they decide to get rid of you like they got rid of Mom?" she argues. "We know the police are working with them. What if they decide that you probably know too much information to let slide, what if they decide they want you out of the picture too!? You already lost a hand and a foot because of me. I won't lose more of you. I won't lose you."
Boss is utterly petrified in his agony over hearing all this, but it takes time for him to muster a response. He holds his face in his hand, and then says, "Then let me come with you."
"No," cat cuts in. "You don't even have both legs. Even assuming you develop a Persona that'll help carry you places, you'd just be a liability. Sometimes all you'll be able to do is run and if you can't do that much you're a dead man. We have enough trouble trying to get Kaz to stop making reckless fucking decisions that nearly end up killing him, but at least he compensates with raw firepower. An old guy with reduced mobility means more watchful eyes on our end."
"Wait, what if whatever Persona he develops is powerful enough to compensate for him?" Yoshizawa argues.
"Yeah, what if it's like, another tank or something to help him move around?" Sakamoto shrugs.
"And if it isn't?"
"I sense him. He doesn't have the heart for this shit."
"Excuse me?"
"You don't got that same fire of rebellion in you. Whatever's there is just a buncha tiny sparks. Whatever Persona you'll develop? Won't nearly be strong enough for what's ahead."
Sojiro Sakura is affronted by these accusations, but doesn't do much other than glare at the cat. His daughter gets between them both and pleads.
"Sojiro. Dad. I can do this."
"Unlike you, she actually can," cat cuts in. "Her Persona's a beast in combat. When she can fire, anyway. Plus she's a tank - she's pretty resistant to shit, all things considered. She's quite powerful."
"I wanna stop them," she declares. "Even if I have to do it alone. It's what's right, and you know it."
Sojiro Sakura looks upon all of us. Looks at Niijima and me. Just earlier today he looked so happy. As if he hadn't really smiled in years. He told us we'd brought his daughter back to him.
Now he well and truly looks like he doesn't know what to think of us. If what's happened to his daughter even was best for her. He shares one last look with her, and doesn't say another word as he picks up his crutch and heads out the door.
"I'm sorry," Niijima says once more.
"Don't be. This had to happen sooner or later," Sakura says, picking up her laptop. She faces everyone now. Everyone sitting in the booth. None of the others know what she intends to do, and that freezes them in place, before she takes a bow after sucking in a deep breath. "Thank you, all of you. I'm sorry for putting you all through everything that happened in my Palace. I'm grateful that you all were willing to save me... despite me not making things easy for you at all. You all have my most sincere gratitude." She then lifts her head up. "But Niijima-san. If you'll have me, I'd like to help you."
"Y-you're sure?"
"I want to find Shijima, too. They killed my Mom. I'll work with you, as long as it takes. We gather as much info as we can and we track them all down, every last one of 'em, until they all get what's coming to them. Whether they die or go to jail. Point is they pay. Deal?"
She stretches a hand out to Makoto Niijma, from across the table. And after a few seconds of deliberation, the latter gets up from the booth, walks over and takes it. "Deal."
Sakura nods. Unhanding her she then faces me. Says nothing at all, then pats Niijima on the shoulder, "You know what you've gotta do," while tilting her head in my direction.
Niijima's left in some stunned silence as Sakura brushes past her. "Sakura-san, wait!"
But the girl leaves, her departure marked by the bell at the door chiming away.
After a time of silence and wondering what the hell's just happened, enough is enough. Then I snatch up all the emptied out pots and pans and plates, and place them in the sink. We all wash the dishes up, fix up the futons in the attic, and get ourselves out of this coffee shop. I shift the sign to Closed before we leave.
Then we get to the train station.
I haven't a clue where anyone on the team lives. And everyone just wants to go back to bed again. We all look terrible. Our hair's messy. Our clothes all folded and creased. All of us, so tired and worn. We've aged perhaps five years from everything we've seen the past few days alone. Cat's just lying asleep in my bag because it can afford to.
People pull in and out of the trains, and we all get on. Takamaki has to grip Yoshizawa's shoulders 'cause the girl is swaying side-to-side and looks like she's going to fall apart the second she's able to sit somewhere. I end up sitting with Niijima to my left and Maruki to my right - Maruki just stares a thousand miles ahead, slouched in his seat. Niijima's upright but staring at either her knees or the floor.
Once we all get off the train, we head our separate ways. Or at least we're supposed to.
As I follow behind Maruki in the station on our way home, Niijima addresses me.
"Are you free on the thirty-first?"
Her voice is quiet, almost undetectable. Just hours ago, if I handed her a piece of cardboard for a mattress she'd have collapsed upon it immediately and slept for nineteen hours. Now, somehow she's utterly stilled. The look on her face isn't a tired one, it isn't even a sad one. On anyone else I'd say it's the face of someone who looks dead inside, but on her, perhaps it's an indication that she's now more alive than she's ever been.
She continues, "I want to speak with you. Just you."
"If this is about Sakura - you can tell me whatever you want to tell me, right now."
"No. I really can't. Are you free by then? Do you have any plans by then?"
"As far as I can tell, no." The thirty-first is a Sunday. If it's this important for her to speak with me, I'd offer to just meet up tomorrow, but I figure we'd need the extra few days of rest.
"Okay then. Have you ever been to Odaiba Seaside Park?"
What? "You wanna meet there?"
"You've been there?"
"No."
"I've been there... only once I think. I'll take you there. I'll show you around. We should first meet up in Shibuya..."
"Wait, Niijima-"
"Is that a problem?"
"No, not particularly. But... why there?"
"I'll let you know once we're there."
I decide to dare, to approach her closer and ask her genuinely, "Are you alright?"
"I haven't been alright in months. But I think I finally know what I want. That must count for something, right?" she nods slowly, almost to herself. "Does Sunday, July 31, work for you?"
I know exactly what she wants to talk about.
I know exactly what I should do.
Instead I do the opposite of what I tell myself to do in this woman's presence, as per usual. "It does."
"Does three PM work for you?"
Three PM. "Why that time?"
"That's the best time. For me, at least. If there's an earlier hour you'd like to go, we could."
"Three works." I suppose.
She nods then, letting me see her tired smile. "I'll see you, then. Hikawa-san."
And then she turns away from me, shifting into the crowds.
And I wonder what possessed me to say Yes to this.
Worse, what possessed her to even come up with this, so on-the-spot?
And then I stop wondering and get back to Maruki.
That night in my dreams, he stares at me, smiling. The candelabrum burning brightly on the altar. He stares at me as though he's at once astonished and confused. "You haven't a single clue what you've just done, do you?"
I think I have some idea. But I'm mostly as clueless as I was since the beginning of all this.
"That isn't always a bad thing. It's invigorating to go roads less traveled, no?"
If by invigorating you mean painfully, dreadfully depressing and draining, then yes.
"Perhaps. But one day you'll return to these tumultuous days and look on them with pride. You've done a good thing. In fact, you've done many good things as of late. Responsibility falls onto the responsible. Self-deceit does not belong here."
You're the Devil, and you call me out for being deceitful?
"You'd much rather hate yourself than face even the most blatant truth. You are a walking contradiction. Your heart appealed to me, because out of everyone in this world yours bear the most resemblance to mine. But it is human, all the same. It is conflicted, it is in chaos, it is in tumult. All is confusion."
Yet you remain here.
"I remain here," He eyes me then, pursing his lips. "There is something you should know. You are confused and you are scared, but the last thing you ought to be afraid of is yourself. You do not need to lie. What is it that you have to fear? There is simply no good reason."
No reason?
"That Persona you bear—the blackened one with six wings and the ornaments of an admiral. He is a reflection of me. Traditional religious schools of thought frame Ha-Satan of the Old Testament as one and the same as myself, but others separate the both of us entirely. Touting the former as a tempting force that lures humanity to sin, sometimes portrayed as being given full reign to do so by God Himself. The Gnostics view him as a proponent of wisdom and emancipation, in fact the Second Son of God. In their traditions the material world is a lie, forged by a false and deluded deity. In response his Second Son rebelled against his wretched Creator and granted mankind the knowledge with which to liberate themselves. Other traditions frame him as a rebel, but one who despises humanity, for God had decreed that he—an angel!—would bow down to an inferior and flawed creation. In these traditions he is depicted as a deceiver of man, who fooled the world into following him as the one true God. But the Cathars, interestingly enough, merge him with this false deity, making him one and the same as the God he's said to have rebelled against—a Demiurge. Otherwise known as Kosmokrator, the Ruler of the World. Such a view bears reflections even in scripture itself, which depict the figure known as Satan as the Prince of the Earth."
So which interpretation is the one stuck in my head?
"All of them. It's amusing how humans all can construct completely different narratives with the same principal characters. In one world you believe me the root of evil. in another I am humanity's only chance of liberation. It's blasphemous, you know. The act of inverting the archetype in such a manner."
It seems I'm not the only walking contradiction here. It must fill you with glee that generations' worth of religious scholars have dissected the various layers of your existence so vigorously.
"It's intriguing. But vital existence matters more to me than spiritual pipe dreams."
What is the point of all this theological talk.
"My point is that she cannot transform you into anything. Only you can. Whatever you think you are becoming, however different you believe you will change from what you once were, know that whatever's rising from the depths is still of your own heart and of your own mind. Satanael is at once a false God, a deceiver, an opposer, and a liberating hero - he is himself, but he is still me, as I am still you. Every man has a different interpretation of me in all the world, but those interpretations are borne of my very essence nonetheless. The root of your desire has not changed. Your priorities have. The flame that's smoldering inside you burns as it always has—perhaps even for the same reasons, but there's so much more color now. Flying sparks and embers that dash and storm and dance like children. In fact I'd dare say it's bloomed even brighter than it ever has before."
Am I not hellbound? Am I not condemned to destroy them? Won't everything I am be the end of them?
Won't they destroy me, as you say they will?
"They will destroy you. When everything comes to its final conclusion, they will at least try. Of that I'm fairly certain. Do you even know what it is you are?"
A fucking psychotic basket case with way too much baggage to even remotely have a healthy relationship with anybody.
"Yes, that. But you are also a Kingdom Ruler. In effect, you are a diamond in the rough. In this realm of your heart you are virtually unstoppable. You are at the apex of your strength here. But do you know what could stop you, what could stand in your way?"
People I have opened my heart to.
"Exactly. A Kingdom Ruler within his own Kingdom is almost entirely impenetrable. Only a diamond can cut another diamond, after all. But once you cherish someone, you will have need of them. Those children mean absolutely nothing. Though their lives have taken a turn for the extravagant, they live just as pointless an existence as anyone else. But they are yours. In your eyes these meaningless specks of dust may very well be diamonds unto themselves. And all your power, all your strength of heart and mind - all of it might just be shredded away simply because you came to care too strongly for someone else. But who am I to deny you your choice?"
Responsibility to the responsible.
"You fear failure. You fear that you will lose those around you. You fear that your actions, no matter how well-meaning, will destroy everything and everyone you have come to cherish."
How can I even cherish anything?
Should I not be a sociopath driven to fulfill everything without a care in the world as to who dies by my hand?
"I represent kindness to the deserving. Not love wasted on ingrates. You would say she and your little friends are deserving of kindness, no? As opposed to that whore who lied to you, kept you on her leash for years, led you down this miserable path to begin with."
So you will remain in my heart, then.
"I've not a single reason to leave. You've fallen from grace and now prowl along the Earth looking for people to drag down to hell along with you. Seeking righteous vengeance against those who would dare strike an arrow against you. They have tarnished what's yours, and frolic around your city like animals, when they deserve to die like animals. To receive what is theirs, as you would receive what is yours. I do not agree with every one of your choices. But," he smiles. "Walking contradiction that you are... you are exactly everything I've hoped you would be."
.
.
.
7 / 31 / 2016
The day comes and I haven't really spoken to anyone since our journey through the Palace had come to an end. Maruki's spent the last four days or so holed up in his room, coming out only for bathroom breaks and meals. Hasn't said much of anything to me at all. I don't have it in me to prod him any further.
Meet me at Shibuya Station, is the message on my phone. You'll find me at the Buchiko Statue.
I have a feeling I know exactly what she's going to try and tell me. I know what the meaning is behind all of this.
So why the fuck am I still walking towards her? Why is it that when I find her, leaning against a marble platform with a golden dog sitting right on top, I keep moving forward like a dumbass? Why does she appear so clear and distinct even in this crowd of dozens I have to pass through? She's wearing that blue overcoat again and in the afternoon light she looks just as good as she did just last week - when I took her out to eat at Luk Foo and everything went straight to hell.
I know I shouldn't even be here. So why did I come?
And why am I so nervous when I say her name? "Niijima?"
She turns and she gives this look. She isn't smiling, still isn't smiling. But she holds her gaze upon me, like she's relieved about something.
I don't think I'm late. How long had she been standing out here in advance?
"Is there something wrong?" I ask her.
She just looks at me, up and down, as if just straight-up examining me like a doctor. She doesn't look at my face as she says, "No. There's nothing wrong." Then she turns away from me, looking at the congested roads. "Shall we go? It's quicker by taxi than by train, surprisingly enough."
Why am I so afraid of her, now of all times?
When had this even begun?
"...sure."
"Alright then." Before I can protest she takes me by the hand and pulls me through the crowd. "Let's go."
"H-hey! Niijima!?"
She doesn't hear me at all. Whether it's because of the crowds around us or if she's deliberately ignoring me, I don't know.
Taxi is surprisingly quick, getting us there. Ten minutes or so, with little in the way of traffic. And once we get there, Niijima takes out her phone.
"There's a place I'd like us to see," Niijima says. "Apparently it's a while away from here. I want to take us to the observatory deck."
"You've... been here once before, right?"
"Yeah. Once. I thought it would be nice to visit again."
I hum a little, but I know something's off here. She's being evasive still. "I see."
"Now, looking at the place...," she smiles lightly.
At the trees and bushes, the grassy lawns, the bright blue sky. The cold winds from the ocean sweep over the both of us and she just seems to let it rush through her. There's a calm in her eyes that doesn't belong. This sensation of just taking everything in - she looks like it's all foreign to her.
"Would you mind if we just...took a walk before stopping there?" She asks me. "We don't really have to say anything. We can just... admire the view of the place, I guess."
The last time she allowed herself to mellow out, I immediately ruined it by dragging her back into another Palace so soon after.
I'll make sure this lasts for much, much longer than it would have any right to. "I'm quite alright with that."
"Okay."
The quiet walk we share is a walk upon cobblestone pathways through lawns, through rows of trees and bushes. Though neither of us ever end up heading on over to the beach I spot gulls flocking over down to the sandy shores, I see people chatting away at sets of round tables and chairs, having feasts and meals and discussions over a view of the seaside. We pass by the miniature replica of the Statue of Liberty, by people walking their dogs and having fun with their families, without sharing much of a word at all and the sun grows bright overhead. Soon enough I'm just straight-up following Niijima, who remains surprisingly, confusingly silent for most of the way through.
I've an idea of the effect Sakura's words might've had on her, in her mind. But she's smarter than that. Better than that, better than me. Though I wish to know exactly what's going through her mind I don't want to step on anything that would distress her. Whatever she's planning to tell me, she must do so on her own prerogative. I won't push and poke and prod and force whatever comes out. I trust her to make the right decision and come to the correct conclusions.
I trust her, about as much as I distrust myself to do right by her.
But soon enough we do end up at the observatory.
And I witness the cityscape. We're a fair distance from Tokyo itself, though the ride here might have been relatively quick. The sun's falling lower, sky's growing redder. Lights in the distance accenting the darkening shapes of tall buildings. We see the Rainbow Bridge off in the distance, cars passing through and shining their own little lights. The water shimmering as its waves reflect the new shade of color blooming overhead. Niijima and I loom over the railing and quite honestly, I find it all a rather beautiful sight. It's something I haven't appreciated, for a long, long time.
Strangely enough, Niijima looks upon it all rather sadly. Like it's now her turn to have lost all appreciation and inspiration in the outside world's little wonders.
And it's my turn to be compelled, "Mind if I ask what's on your mind?"
She turns to me briefly, then faces the cityscape once more.
"It's all so noisy and congested. That's the kind of place we'd all spend our time in." She lowers her head, chuckling. Half of her is nostalgic and the other half is morose. "My father took me here, only once."
"When?"
"When I was still in elementary. He took me and my sister here just once, on a Sunday. It was one of the few days he was ever free to do anything. He wanted us to spend time here, as one big family. Just one afternoon together. Eating food we'd brought along, and seeing the sights, and just taking everything in. I forgot about all that, until we entered Tsukioka's Palace and I learned everything there was to learn."
"Do you regret that?" She faces me once more, silently pressing for elaboration. "Do you regret having forgotten?"
"Despite everything that's happened," she decides. "My father was a monster. But he was mine. That one afternoon was ours. When we arrived at this spot, Dad lifted me up and sat me on his shoulders, just so I'd be able to see everything I could. I remembered seeing all this and thinking how perfect it all looked. Like whoever had built the city had somehow cosmically arranged every building in order just so one day I'd see it."
"I'm sorry it didn't live up to your nostalgia."
"Oh, I knew it wouldn't. I didn't come here or bring you here to recapture anything."
I nod, "I'm glad you did. It's a gorgeous view."
"I hoped you'd like it. I wanted you to see what we saw, here." She lets herself smile again. "I don't feel the same way as I did back then, looking at it now. Now... it means so much more to me."
"How so?"
She snickers, if only to herself. "God, please don't laugh at me when I say this."
"Why would I laugh?"
"I... I used to live such a boring life," she begins. "But it may have been because of that life that I met you and everyone else to begin with. That I came to terms with... all I did and didn't do. All I could have and should have done, when I had the chance. And so I keep coming back to the realization that your world changes depending on your actions. You were the one who taught me that."
I find the sea far more interesting than her face, now. "I didn't teach you anything, Niijima. Don't sell yourself so short."
"Hikawa-san—"
"You came up with the plan to bring Sakura into her Palace when I and everyone else thought that was a bad idea. And it felt like a bad fucking idea, especially when Dante kicked our asses. But in the end, it's what actually worked. Her choosing to accept herself —everything she'd forgotten. Things could've gone better, a lot better, considering what Boss has lost. But it worked. What made you think it would?"
She exhales. "Because...despite everything I know about my father now. I would still like to remember him as I knew him. And I figured Sakura, deep down, wanted the same."
"And you were right."
"Hikawa-san..."
"Don't sell yourself short, Niijima," I tell her again. "Because of the two of us, you're the one who's gonna change the world."
At once she stops speaking.
For some time the red glint on her face makes me think the sun's reflecting off the water and into her face. But I see her stunned expression and I'm now certain that she's perhaps angry with me again?
If so, then why do her eyes look the way they do?
Just as suddenly as she stopped, she starts again.
"Come with me."
I chuckle, "What?"
She looks me in the eye, and there isn't a hint of the fear or anger she'd felt towards me all those months ago.
"Join me, Hikawa-san."
Immediately, my hand starts trembling and I try to stop it, I grasp it to keep it still, but it won't stop.
I'm afraid of her.
Of them.
I've been afraid of all of them for months, now. No, perhaps it's not even really them that I'm afraid of. It's not even what I will inevitably do to them, though that doesn't help.
It's the thought that they might transform me into something completely different from what I know I am.
I am afraid of what I do not know. I am afraid to try.
"What are you trying to tell me, Niijima—?"
"I know that you have a Kingdom."
All of a sudden my insides freeze. Heart stops beating for just a second, and I get lightheaded for just an instant. An excessive reaction to something I knew to have been true weeks ago.
"How long have you known...?"
"Since the night we defeated Kaneshiro," she says plainly. "I wrote your name in the app."
I don't say a word. I try, God help me I try. Underneath...I'm screaming.
Clawing at my organs, hoping to induce a heart attack so I'd never have to see her again. She does not pity me—not like she did so long ago, when Kaneshiro was still a threat and she and I still hated each other.
"I don't know the location, nor do I know the distortion. But I know you have one."
"You knew."
"Yes."
"And you let me join you in Tsukioka's Palace.
"Yes."
"And you willingly helped me resolve the whole situation with Sakura."
"Yes."
"And I—and you—" what the fuck, "—you knew, all that time, and not only did you not tell me or anyone else that you knew, but you kept— did you know I had a Kingdom, even when I told you about Kana and Masako?"
"I knew."
"Then why would you do anything you've done in the past few days? Why would you help me!? Why the hell would you trust me to help you with all your shit!? Why wouldn't you tell everyone I had a Kingdom!? Why would you, why would you eat out in some fucking restaurant somewhere with me—why would you even take me to see this knowing what I am!? You're not stupid! You're one of the smartest people I know so why would you do something so fucking stupid!?"
"Because I had faith in you," she says simply yet firmly. "I told you that. Long ago, back on the roof."
I psyche myself up to finally do something I should have done so long ago. Your sister has a Palace, and I'm going to go in there and tear it apart, brick by brick by brick. I'll kill her and you know I will. She's a crooked prosecutor bitch and she threw me in jail and she has a Palace so she deserves exactly the same as Kamoshida, Kaneshiro, Tsukioka, me—
But my horrible, horrible thoughts fade. For reasons I can't quantify, she fills me with a terror and dread I've never felt before. There's a sincerity I've never seen from anyone else I've ever met, plain in her eyes. A strong, bewildering faith that makes her beautiful and horrifying in equal measure. I want to escape and get out of her sight and never see her or anyone else again.
She notices my silence and she continues, seemingly ignorant of the storm raging in my mind.
"I can't convince you of anything. I can't compel you to believe in what I'm telling you. All I can do is tell you what I know to be true."
"And that is?" I say that with more bile than I intend.
"That if I had never met you, I'd still be stuck trying to appease people for whom I'd never be enough. That I'm now proud of who I am, for the first time in my life. That I've found a power that only I can wield, and I have the will to help others with it. And that you've helped people, even though you think all you could ever do is make things worse for them."
Merely sharing the same plane of existence as her burns my bones and sears my insides and I know I'll tear her body to shreds with my bare hands if I accept her and accept her invitation and let my heart open to someone else again. She's overwhelming to the point of madness, so much so I ought to flee right here and right now, or concoct a plan to wipe her existence off the face of the planet so I would never have to even fucking speak to her again.
"Why?" She's surprised. I don't know what my face must look like, to her—but my breaths are heavy, and something stings painfully at the back of my eyes. I hate this girl, I hate her more than I've ever hated anyone. I hate her so much that if I had the power to wipe her away from existence in an instant I would. "Why are you…?"
"I wondered whether or not to tell you for months, now. I was...anxious as to how you would react, if I ever told you what I knew. But you deserve it. You deserve the truth. I apologize that it took this long."
"You didn't even tell the others...?"
"No."
"Why didn't you!? I coulda fucking killed them all in an instant if I wanted to!"
"You didn't want to. I knew you wouldn't."
"Not yet I don't! What if I was fucking lying to you about Sakura, huh!? What if I was luring you all into some fucking horrible place under false pretenses—luring you to your deaths!? What if I was plotting to kill you this whole fucking time, what was your big grand fucking solution then, Niijima!?"
"That isn't who you are."
"You—"
"If you wanted us dead, you'd have just dragged us into your Kingdom, one by one. None of us would be able to stop you. You don't want to hurt us."
"And when I do!? What will you do then!?"
"I don't care about what will happen then! What do you want, right now!?"
"I don't even fucking know what I want anymore thanks to you!"
"You told me, so long ago, that after you destroyed Kamoshida and Kobayakawa's Palaces you felt nothing. Do you still feel nothing, after you literally saved Futaba Sakura's life?"
I just stare at her, slack-jawed.
"I—" I cover my hand with my mouth, staring down at the ground wide-eyed. "I..."
I didn't think I'd want anything like this.
Putting fucking Palace Rulers in their place felt liberating if not good. I attacked Kamoshida and I tortured him because I hated him and hurting him filled me with some sense of fulfillment, if only ephemerally. It wasn't out of the goodness of my heart, or my desire for some brand of justice. I did it because I liked it. It was never about other people.
Always about me. I didn't count on being able to actually do something, for once - something that actually held any meaning whatsoever.
I didn't count on doing something right for once.
"Maybe it all hinges on here and now. If you go on this way... you're locked on a suicide course. To you it can only end, when either you kill the people you're looking for, or they kill you. But it doesn't have to end like that. I can't begin to understand what you've lost, but I can help you find and put a stop to the people who destroyed you. We can find a way, together - I know we can. You don't need to be out there, on the edge anymore. You're not alone. You just told me that of the two of us, I'd be the one to change the world. But if ever I do, I'd want to do it with you."
She lends a hand out to me. "What do you say?"
.
.
.
This was a fucking BEAST of a chapter to write for. I'm so happy it's finally done.
So this was something I'd planned more or less from the beginning. At some point, Kazuya is confronted with the fact that he is absolutely better than he believes he is, and now is forced to make perhaps the most important choice of his life. Tune in next time to see him finally make his decision, though you can make a guess as to what that decision is I think :3
I never intended for Kaz to be stuck on his darkest side forever. But whether he'll be able to edge his way out of it completely is something that remains to be seen.
We'll be heading to another Palace pretty soon. Got pretty big plans for what's up ahead, you might not expect where we're going next or who we're recruiting. But this is gonna be a brand new phase, for the story and Kazuya as a whole. Thank y'all for sticking around and reading this far, hope you love what's coming up next.
Kazuya's pretty much got the whole Sociopathic Hero trope down pat. Let's see him try to be an actual hero this time around.