Heyo! So, no update weekends, because new year. Happy new year, guys!

XII: The Sacrificial Hanged Man

Hanged Man: Sacrifice, Waiting, Contemplation, Perspective

Reversed Hanged Man: Stalling, Stagnation, Apathy, Avoidance of Sacrifice

She's still shaking.

There was blood everywhere, and it just wouldn't stop no matter what they did.

She couldn't get the image of his smile as he looked up at her, so pale and so weak, out of her head. She could still feel the feeble grip of his hand on hers as she tried to stop the blood gushing out from his chest. She could still see his chest rose and fell slowly, shallowly, too slow to draw in enough air to keep him going. And then he would cough up the blood that's overflowing his left lung.

There's… so much had happened, and she hates it. She hates her powerlessness and her incompetency as she just allows herself to get absolutely destroyed by the Shadows. She looks down at her still bloodied hands, at her sweater now dyed red by his blood, and her bloodied fingers as they tremble almost uncontrollably.

She looks up, and Aragaki is sitting across from her, back hunched, hands clasped together as if he's praying to whatever cruel god it is that has set this all up. His hands are covered in dried, cracked blood that looks like crimson-colored gloves, and he's shaking. Amada seems like he doesn't know what to do, seeing his mother's killer (somehow, that came up in the conversation) in this state.

Makoto… he saved Aragaki, both his body and his heart. It explains everything. He's spent so much time with the man, and she could only imagine him bearing all of his wounds and his scars and his fears and his past to Aragaki, just to convince him, just to save him. It's a very Makoto thing to do.

She feels the seat beside her dipping down slightly, and turns to see Junpei, an uncharacteristically somber expression on his face. She only manages out a half-broken smile before she has to swallow back the sob that's been trying to get out of her throat since he's been wheeled into the ER, bloodied and broken and unconscious.

Junpei carefully, very carefully, puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes. She doesn't do anything, only keeping her fingers pressed together, using the feeling to keep her heart as calm as she could. She looks up to see Fuuka and Kirijou talking together quietly, while Amada just sits by Aragaki's side, with Sanada occupying the other, an arm slung around the other man's shoulders.

"Yukari-cchi," Junpei begins. When she hums in acknowledgements, he continues. "He'll be okay."

"…I hope," She whispers. The amount of blood, and the way he just went limp in her hand, and the way his breathing slowed to almost a halt, and the way his heartbeat got so fast and so weak are not at all convincing. "I… just, why?"

"Yukari-cchi…"

"Why must it always be him?" She whimpers, curling into herself. She sees Aragaki looking at her with a pained expression, but she shakes her head. It's not the man's fault. "He's been in hell on earth for almost his entire life, and now this…? Why would the world or whatever gods there is do this to him? To a person who's this kind and this compassionate?"

"I'm sorry," Aragaki grits out. "If I had been a bit stronger, or more cautious, he wouldn't have to protect me, and he could've protected himself instead…!"

"If you're going to blame anyone," Sanada begins, loud enough for the both of them to hear. "Blame it on the one who did this, not the gods, not yourself for trying your best. Blame all of this on Strega for shooting him."

"I understand now… this must be how you felt, why you turn into a battle maniac, huh, Aki?" Aragaki says with a broken laughter. "This feeling of powerlessness is just too fucking much. If I was a bit stronger, this could've – would've been avoided."

"Yeah," Sanada says, looking at the ground and smiles. "This is exactly what I thought, back then."

"Aragaki-san…" Amada begins, but he stops himself, looking away. None of them pressure the boy to continue, but he does anyway, probably because of his own necessity. "If I hadn't been so caught up by the idea of revenge, maybe… maybe this wouldn't have—"

"Kid, this ain't your fault," Aragaki cuts the boy off promptly. "You seeking revenge is the result of my weakness, of my inability to face my problems head on, of my cowardice as I run away from the truth. It ain't on you. It's all on me."

"Shinji…"

"I'm not gonna run no more," Aragaki states, firm and unflinching. "I ain't gonna run from what the fuck my problem is anymore, and I'm going to face it. I'm gonna face fucking Castor and make it yields. I can't let something like this happen again."

With that, he presses his forehead against his knuckles.

And she thinks, that it's the first time in a while that he's cried his heart out like that.

She wakes up lying on a couch, a coat (Aragaki's, she reckons) draped over her like a blanket.

She isn't even sure when the hell she's fallen asleep, but it must've been a good while back, because the sun is already way past the horizon. She doesn't have it in her to question why she isn't dragged to school just yet, and she seriously isn't going to complain, either.

She sits up and rubs the sleepiness away from her eyes. When she looks around, she finds herself in a white room with glass pane on one side facing the city, and there are equipments of various kinds ready, with a large bed in the middle. She looks around, and it takes a moment for her to realize that this is a private ICU room.

The bathroom door slides open, and she's locking her eyes with Aragaki, who's only with his turtleneck shirt, the beanie in his hands, his hair a bird's nest and a bit wet. He just looks at her, long enough to make her feel a bit uncomfortable, before he walks over and sits a palm's width away from her foot. She sits up fully and throws her legs down to the floor, then offers him back his coat.

He takes it with a small nod and puts it back on. Only then does she actually notice that he's shivering, even if it's just minutely. She just curls into herself a little more before murmuring. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Aragaki says quietly. "I asked Mitsuru to let you stay. Looks like you need it."

"Thanks," She says again, closing her eyes and buries her face into her hands. She's lost. Even if the blood's somehow washed out of her hands (who did that? Herself? Aragaki?), she could still feel the warmth of it coating her fingers as she desperately tried to stop the red from flowing.

She doesn't look up, but feels Aragaki scooting closer. She doesn't have enough physical or mental energy to do anything, so she just sits there. Then she feels his hand, callous and large and rough, gently patting her head, like the way he always does with Makoto whenever they're together (which is pretty often). It takes him maybe a few minutes to accompany that with words. "I'm sorry."

"S'not your fault," She mumbles, straightening up and leaning back onto the couch again. She looks up at the ceiling, at the lightbulb, and just tries to focus on something. "You did what you had to in order to straighten things out with Amada-kun. It's just a Makoto thing to stop someone else from getting killed and get shot himself."

"It kinda is, huh," Aragaki huffs a laughter at that. He then rests his chin on his palm and looks towards the door connected to the outside. "They said the surgery has just finished, and they'll be moving him up here soon if nothing changes in the recovery room."

She could feel her fear melting away slightly at that. Yukari then lets out one long sigh. "That's good."

A pause. "…Do you want to know what happened, or would you rather not?"

She frowns. Of course, going in with those kind of injuries means… they'd have to do a lot. She glances at the clock that reads 2.37 pm, which means it's more or less 14 hours of him in there. It's… long. Very long. She isn't even sure if she wants to hear it or not.

In the end, she thinks she has to. "…Against my better judgement, yeah."

"…Hemopneumothorax," Aragaki begins with a small frown as he reads from a small notebook. How caring and attentive is he, really? "A part of lung destroyed. Shattered scapular. Three broken ribs. Punctured small and large bowel. Limited injury to mesentery artery and renal vessels. Shattered patella and fractured tibia. Bone loss of index and middle metacarpal bones. Strictly speaking, without the use of Personas, he's going to need at least a few months to recover."

Her breath hitches. The list is way too long, and even medically-illiterate like her could understand that the injuries are severe. She hugs herself and forces back the tears threatening to fall down from her eyes. And she's the healer of this group, so she knows that even Personas can't perform miracles. Even if she manages to get him back to fighting shape, he won't be the same. He might be functioning at one hundred percent, but there will be pain afterwards, that's for certain.

"…I'm going to need a few nights to…" She trails off, unable to finish. She has to do it. She's the only one who could pull something like this off. Every bits of her power counts. "I'll do it."

"I've told Mitsuru as much," Aragaki nods, patting her head again and ruffling her hair slightly. She finds that she doesn't dislike the feeling. "The biggest problem, however, ain't his injuries."

"…What?"

"He lost lots of blood," He explains with a deep scowl. "And the surgery is extensive and big. They said he flatlined during the operation a few times."

She gasps, and has to bite her lip hard to stop herself from crying. But – flatlined. That means he died in there… a few times? He temporarily died? "Is… is he going to be okay?"

"They don't know," Aragaki responds, and before she could protest it, he's throwing one arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him, her face in his chest. He's rough, but he's warm. "Flatlining means the brain won't get enough oxygen. They don't know if he'll…"

He doesn't need to finish the sentence for the truth to sink in.

They don't know if he'll be able to wake up or not.

"Why…?" She says, her voice trembling, and she finally cries, the tears flowing like water through broken dam. She couldn't stop. She's afraid, of losing him. He's so kind, so warm… why? "Why is this the reward for his kindness? Hasn't the world taken enough away from him already?"

Her hands are gripping and clawing at his coat, and she's weeping. She's scared. He's always been so gentle, and so caring, but at the same time so wronged and so broken. He deserves better than this. He didn't even have a full year to actually live, goddamnit!

It feels wrong. Everything feels so wrong and she's powerless to change it.

"Please… somehow, please be okay. Please don't leave me. I'm scared…!"

She cries and cries and cries again until she falls back asleep in Aragaki's arm.

When she wakes up again, the bed's—

She bolts up, ignoring the groan in her arms and legs, stiff from the wrong positioning, ripping herself away from Aragaki's arm. Her hands reach forward and grab his, bandaged up with steel rods connecting his bones together.

He's so pale, is the first thing she notices. His breath is steady only because there's a tube down his throat, connecting him to the ventilator. There's also another, longer tube coming out of his left chest and into a set of connected glass bottles right under the bed. His right knee is put together and held into place with another set of steel rods that pierced through his skin to connect his broken bones and keep them in place.

Her legs just give out right then, with her hands still holding his cold, unmoving one tightly. And before she could stop it, she's crying again, her voice raw. It hurts to breathe, but she just couldn't care anymore as she keeps crying, relief and afraid. He has a pulse right under her fingertips. He – his body is alive. But they don't know if he will wake up or not.

All she could do now is hope and wait.

Someone's hands grab her arms, firm but not rough. Aragaki slowly pulls her up, before something hard hits the back of her knees. She looks back to see a chair, and the older man just pushes her down onto it. She blinks, dumbfounded, before saying in an unsure voice. "Thank… you…?"

"No problem," He says, scratching his head. "Can you really heal someone back to health when they're… like that?"

"No," She shakes her head. "I can heal some of it, but… I'll need him to wake up to make sure I don't mess it up. I'm medically illiterate, and my power isn't that strong… yet, so healing someone while they're awake is the only way I can make sure they'll be back to a hundred."

"Just make sure to heal him up as much as you could before he's conscious, then," Aragaki says, crossing his arms and sighing. "After you're done today, you should go back."

"But—"

"Can you heal someone well if you're exhausted?" Aragaki shoots back almost immediately. She winces under his intense, almost accusatory, gaze.

"…No."

"Then it's settled. After today, go back to rest," He orders. She could only nod as she looks down at his cold hand and squeezes it gently. Makoto's so cold. Then, she feels a hand on her head again. "Don't worry, I'll take care of 'im while you're not here."

"…Thanks, Aragaki-senpai," She says quietly, before letting out a quiet giggle. "You know, I think him calling you a mother hen is right on target."

"Oh, shut up," He grumbles. "He's just like a lil' brother to me. A dysfunctional, pessimistic, depressive, sarcastic bundle of kindness that needs lots of loves and lots of healing."

"Yeah," She hums. "He is, huh."

Almost by reflex, she starts running her fingers along the scars in his right hand again, as much as she could without going under the bandages. The sound of the ventilator pumping air and helping him breathe is soothing enough for her to not break down just yet. She's just… going to try to keep herself busy with doing whatever she can, until he wakes up.

He has to.

"…Hey," Aragaki begins, and she only hums to acknowledge him. He doesn't say anything for a while, and only continues when she thinks he's not going to. "…There're lots of scars on his chest."

She blinks before finally looking up. His hospital gown is left untied due to the severity of his wounds and the need to monitor his ECG and all of that. It's only then does she actually have a good look at his chest – aside from that large twisted scar that looks like someone ripped the flesh out of his chest and slapped it back, there are jagged lines running along almost every last bit of his skin.

She remembers them. Not all, but most, since she's traced her fingers on his body herself. She bites her lip and nods, not daring to speak. Yukari exhales before reaching her hand towards the scar – the scar he would flinch away when she touched it. She wishes he would do just that, but there are no responses but the silence and the sound of beeping machines and air being pumped.

"He never told me where he got this," She murmurs, still running her fingers carefully along the warped, redden skin. It must've hurt, getting his skin marred to the point of it being like this.

Aragaki sighs. "The kid mentioned that one, but never showed me. Said he got it way back on the Bridge, 1999, or something. He said he doesn't remember, but it looks like it came from being burnt to me."

"…I see," She murmurs. "He confided in you a lot, huh?"

He rarely told her anything, only bits and pieces that would make her uneasy, but not outright worried or terrified. It really stings to know that he told someone else a lot, but not her. But then again, she doubts she'll tell anyone anything if she's in his position.

"Maybe more than he should," Aragaki scratches his head. "Who in the fucking right mind would bare all his wounds for me to see just to help me? I swear to god almighty this kid's got a few screws loose in his head."

"I think you're right," She laughs quietly. "He's too kind for his own good."

"You tell me," He mutters before patting her head again. "I'mma go out for a bit to get food. Instant craps are gonna be our staple for a few days."

"No worries, you can make up later when everyone's back at the dorm," She says, hopeful. Everyone, including Makoto. "Deal?"

"Deal."

She couldn't focus in classes, like, at all.

Junpei is unusually quiet, too, and she thinks his usual loud self is welcome right now. But then again, Makoto is his friend, so she doesn't think he's actually free from feeling guilt, either.

She finds herself sitting alone in class at lunch, too numb to move, and not hungry enough to eat a damn thing, either. She sighs and flops her head down onto her crossed arms. There's no one in the seat behind her (she wants him to be here), only silence and a bit of rumors that had mostly died down since Kirijou's public execution.

…She was there to witness it. Being executed by Kirijou is something at the very bottom of the list of things she wants to ever experience.

She's done all that she says could, closing up wounds that she's able to. All that's left are his broken and missing bones and his collapsed lung. She'll do that if—no, when he wakes up. When would that be, though? Today? Next week? Next month…?

She shakes her head, getting rid of the thoughts.

Once the school's over, she heads for the station, as usual. Much to her surprise, however, Sanada and Amada are there. She waves at them as soon as they turn to look. "Sanada-senpai, Amada-kun. It's a surprise. What gives?"

"Been a few days, so we thought we wanna pay Yuuki a visit," Sanada answers. "Shinji's still skipping school, but he's keeping his grades up just fine. And to think he's spending his time with Yuuki. At this point, calling him a mother is not as far-fetch, huh."

She giggles. "And he's still red every single time I grilled him about it. You should try, Senpai. It's fun."

"I guess I will," Sanada says. "Hey, Amada, why're you so quiet?"

"It's just," He mumbles, fidgeting on his feet slightly. "I mean… I'm still angry at Aragaki-san, but… he's now trying to make up for it. It makes me… think. And Yuuki-san wouldn't have been shot like he did if I hadn't called Aragaki-san out there alone like that."

"Hey," Yukari says, kneeling down and patting the boy's shoulder. "No one is blaming you. We understand, really. It's not your fault, okay?"

"…Okay."

After that, she gives Amada a pat on the head (Aragaki must've been rubbing off on her, huh) before heading over with them to the hospital.

As usual, Aragaki is waiting for them outside, with his usual scowl and his red coat. When he spots them, he seems a bit surprised, especially when he sees Amada. But he just gives them a small nod and walks halfway to meet them.

"Hey, Shinji," Sanada greets. "How're you doing?"

"Same, same," He says. "…There's a bit of change. You said your Persona turned into Caesar, and yours to Kala-nemi, right, Amada?"

"Uh, yes," The boy says. Yukari tilts her head slightly at that. She's heard that the two of their Personas changes due to their resolves. In Sanada's case, to fight and protect people he holds dear, and for Amada's, to live on for his mother. She doesn't have a single clue what happened, but it seems this is something between the three of them, and it looks like Makoto's… injuries facilitated it.

"…Mine's changed, too," He says quietly. The boxer gives him quite a stink eye, but the taller man just smiles in return – something rare, coming from him. "From Castor, to Chiron… with my resolve to live for someone else. Kinda funny, when that someone else is right at Death's fucking door."

"Shinji," Sanada begins, patting his shoulder lightly. The boy looks like he wants to say something too, but she thinks he's going to save that for later. "Don't make me punch reason into you. It's not your fault—"

"Dude, I get it, but there's no way in hell you wouldn't think like I am if you're in my position," Aragaki snaps back, but doesn't pull away. With another sigh, he jerks his head towards the door. "Come on, let's go inside already."

They dutifully follow.

She's getting too used to the beeping and the hissing of the ventilator.

Aragaki and Amada have both excused themselves outside, leaving her with Sanada standing beside her as she grips on Makoto's cold, unmoving hand tightly. They said something about talking the rest of their (or rather, Amada's) grudges out. She hopes they'll be alright and not at each other's throat afterwards.

"I kind of get why Shinji's so protective of him, now," The boxer says with a small smile. "He looks so small like this, a stark contrast to when he's barking orders inside Tartarus, don't you think?"

"Yeah," She says with a small smile, squeezing his hand just a bit more. She watches as his chest rises and falls rhythmically, slowly—almost too slowly for her likings. She reaches up to brush strands of stray hair off his eyes. "He's… like a different person when he's leading us. Strong and tactical."

"It's hard to remember that he's just a high school kid when you spent more time with him during the Dark Hour than out of it," Sanada mutters, rubbing his chin lightly. "You know what, I'm going to join him and Shinji's little shenanigans next time, just to get to know him a little better."

"…Shenanigans?" She repeats.

"You know Shinji's always the one who pick him up after his sessions, right?" Sanada asks. When she nods in affirmation, he continues. "They spent the time walking all over the island just because. I think it was Yuuki's idea to stray off their path first, but Shinji kinda bit on the bait and in the end, the two of them would wind up someplace weird half the time, usually bars or restaurants."

"…Really?" She says, tilting her head. "I mean, they have never returned that late, like, ever?"

"That's why they were able to keep doing it."

"…Huh."

After that, it's just them talking about things the other doesn't know about Makoto. From Sanada's viewpoint, his knowledge of the Leader comes from whatever short conversations they have during Tartarus, or from Aragaki himself. She finds it quite funny to hear that he acts like a total nerdy dork with Aragaki, of all people, and the older boy is enabling his behavior, to boot.

Sanada seems surprised, too, that Makoto is quite passionate (and a bit awkward) when it comes to… well, her in general. He's only socially inept when it concerns normal interactions. He can pick up body languages and subtle signs in the way people talk or move really well, which makes him so kind (and just so lovable, at least to her) and such a good leader.

Combined with his deduction skills, it makes him both caring… and scary. To think he deduced that Aragaki killed Amada's mother (even by accident) with just body languages and whatever little bits of information he'd heard off-handedly kind of make her a little nervous.

They talk for a while, and end their conversation when Aragaki and Amara return. She isn't sure if it's just her or not, but they look… a bit lighter, perhaps?

"Yo, you two having fun?" Sanada asks with a grin as he pats her shoulder lightly.

"Fun is a stretch," Aragaki says, before looking down at Amada, who's smiling slightly at him. Even if it's small, that's progress. "But… yeah, we talked things out. Kinda. Will need a bit more time, though."

"Aragaki-san is quite awkward when it comes to speaking kindly," Amada points out. Sanada outright laughs at the other's face, while the man in question just goes beet red. "It's kind of funny, seeing him struggling for words."

"Man, now I wish I could see it. Gotta ask Mitsuru to find someone to take the photo—"

"Fuck off, Aki!"

They continue to banter lightly, and she smiles. They seem so close, and the atmosphere is lighter like this.

Her eyes return to Makoto as he sleeps, and she reaches to tug his hair behind his ear again, just to see his face a little better. She hates the way there are steel rods coming out of him to keep his bones together. If she could heal that while he's like this… she shakes her head and sighs.

"Wake up already, sleepyhead," She murmurs, her fingers cold as she curls them over his gently. "Don't keep me waiting."

She feels the same rough hand on her head again as Aragaki tousles her hair softly with a thin smile. The other two just sit there on the couch, watching. She just smiles up at the older boy as he speaks. "Come on, kid, don't be so down."

"Sorry," She mumbles. "Well, I better join you guys now and start talking, right?"

"Yeah," He says. "Come on. Rest your heart for a bit, huh?"

She nods, and pulls her hand—

There's a gentle squeeze on her fingers.

She stops, and that makes Aragaki turns back. She isn't sure if that's just her feeling things or not, so she squeezes his hand lightly again.

This time, instead of a squeeze, she hears the sound of him shifting on the bed. And she looks up, to see those kind, steel-gray eyes looking at her.

It takes her maybe a moment too long to register it.

And then, she's crying.

"Welcome back, Makoto."

Door-kun is back! But I assure you, this work will not end on a high, happy, all sunshine and daisies notes. Will still have a bit of a slice of life, tho, so have fun with that!