XVIII: The Waning Moon

Moon: Illusion, Intuition, Uncertainty, Complexity, Secrets

Reversed Moon: Fear, Deception, Understanding, Clarity

His answer comes too quickly.

And he chose to fight, to not forget.

A part of her thinks she could rationalize him, but the other part is confused; how could he come to the conclusion so quickly and so absolutely? Does he not fear Death? And she knows, better than any other person in the dorm, that it isn't because he values his life that much, either. He still does, but she knows he loves other people's lives more than his own.

She wants to know.

She sighs and fidgets a little, waiting for the team to gather at the lounge. No one would go to Tartarus, no one wants to hang out, no one wants to do anything. Strangely enough, the only person who doesn't seem to be affected by all of this is Makoto.

Makoto, who always looks deep in thoughts, neither depressed nor scared. Makoto, who always seems to be up to something. Makoto, who she feels like she doesn't know anymore.

She looks up from her seat when Makoto reaches the lounge, hands in his coat's pockets, headphones against his chest. The others just exchange a few looks between themselves before Mitsuru claps her hands together to draw in their attentions. Once they all look at her, she says, "So… we should think about what we're going to do."

"Yeah," She says. "It sucks around here. No one wants to do anything, not even hanging out. It blows really hard."

"…You seem so calm about this, Yukari-chan," Fuuka murmurs as she looks at her.

She just shrugs. "There's really no point wallowing in it, right?"

"That's true," Mitsuru says. "Well… have you all made your decisions yet?"

She automatically looks towards Makoto, who still has his hands in his pockets, the MP3 dangling off his neck with its light off. He catches her eyes for a second, but says nothing. She could see his jaws clenching a little as she hears Sanada speak. "I… dunno. But I don't plan on running away."

"I see," Mitsuru hums.

"Nor I," Yukari says. "Dad wouldn't have wanted that, so I won't run. I've learned and seen so much since coming here. I don't want to forget."

"I've made mine," Aragaki says, dropping himself on the couch next to Sanada. "I ain't gonna run. I'm gonna fight and live."

"As expected of you," Amada nods. He then sighs quietly. "I still don't know about it myself."

"What about you, Junpei?" She asks, turning to her childhood friend as he bites on his lip, fists curled even tighter. When he's not responding, she tries to poke something out of him. "What's wrong? Are you scared?"

The reaction is as immediate as it is violent. He looks at her—at them all—eyes wide with fire of rage in them. "Am I scared!? Of course I fucking am! Do you think this is a fucking joke!?"

…She really has to watch her mouth more.

"Then what would you do about it?" Mitsuru says, arms crossed.

"There isn't a damn thing I can do!" He bellows, and before they could react, he's already grabbing Makoto by the scruff of his neck, slamming his back against the grandfather clock. "He's the only one who can do a damn thing about it! Come on, say something! You can do something, right!? Since you're so special and all that!"

"Junpei—"

"'Sides, ain't this all your fault anyways, harboring that thing inside you all this time, huh!?" His anger is going above what she could've foreseen. She can't see Makoto's eyes, hidden under his hair, but she could see the tenseness in his posture. "Well!? What are you going to do!?"

Aragaki looks about ready to rip Junpei away, but Makoto's soft, well-controlled voice cut through his fury like a sharp blade. "The decision is not mine to make."

"…What?"

Aragaki doesn't look surprised, although he does seem a bit sad. Sanada is a bit taken aback, but she thinks she sees understanding in his eyes. The others are dumbstruck, however. And when silence reigns, Makoto lifts his face up, a goddamn smile on his face, a smile that doesn't match the way he tenses up or the way he looks.

"I've given up my rights to make a decision the moment I betrayed all of your trusts," He speaks quietly. Junpei lets him go like he's scalded, his expression as lost as she's feeling. Makoto stands a bit straighter, hands absently straightening out his coat. "This is the best I can do to make up for that. Whether you choose to kill him or not, I'll oblige by your wishes. My choice doesn't matter."

"You've already made a decision?" Fuuka asks.

"Yes," He whispers. "I can't allow myself to forget, no matter what. Even if it hurts, I want to remember everything."

"Easy for you to say!" Junpei snarls. "Right? And I guess that's cuz you've got absolutely nothing left if you choose to forget!"

"Junpei! That's out of line!" Yukari snaps. But before she could do anything about it, Aragaki has already sent him sprawling across the floor with a right hook that could've shattered a cheekbone.

"Watch your damn mouth, you brat!" Aragaki barks, towering over Junpei like a giant, menacing, his eyes full with fury. "You think this kind of decision is easy for him!? Why don't you try listening to his story for a minute and then decide that afterwards!?"

There's a beat of silence.

"Yeah, you're right, he's got absolutely not a shit if he forgets. Doesn't mean remembering is painless, you know—"

"That's enough, Shinjirou-senpai."

Makoto stops them with his still calm, collected tone that could command the raging sea to a halt. The older boy looks at him for a while before clicking his tongue and stepping back. She doesn't miss the usage of the older boy's first name, however, but she couldn't focus on it just yet.

Junpei looks lost, and it feels like he's coming back to his senses when he stands up shakily, eyes casting downward. He looks away. "…I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to—"

"You've no need to apologize to me," Makoto says with a pained smile. "After all, it's not just you who think that if I'd died and taken Ryoji down along with me back then, maybe things would have been different."

Her breath hitches. "Makoto…"

"If I had died back when I was drowned, or even when I was shot, maybe the end of the world could have been avoided. I know some of you thought that — are thinking of that. Because I'm pondering about it myself, too," He says, his smile not faltering, but it looks so dry, so hurt. She just wants to hug him and says that it's not his fault, but she couldn't.

He closes his eyes and sighs, scratching the back of his head a little. And much like how Ryoji left, he turns back to glance at them slightly as he walks towards the stair.

"Just tell me your decisions whenever. We still have time. Whatever you decide doesn't change what I have to do."

And he's gone.

She finds him on the cold rooftops after the Dark Hour has already struck.

They've spent the rest of the 'meeting' thinking over his words and deciding that they're not going to be making progress tonight. Aragaki ripped Junpei a new one. He didn't tell the rest of them all that he knows, but he pointed at Makoto's past enough to make them all see where he is coming from; that Ryoji had saved him more than a few times (she still couldn't wrap her head around it) and that he did what he did to repay the kindness and the debt of life, being as kind as he is. And she almost beat herself up for it. She is his girlfriend; how could she not understand this?

…Or, if he no longer wants to consider it that way, she was his girlfriend.

Her initial anger has already settled into some kind of sludge inside her ribcage and a bitter taste on her tongue. He keeps secrets, something she couldn't quite forgive, and yet she has to wonder; would she have done the same, had she been in his shoes? She wouldn't know. Unlike her, he has never, not since he came to this place, put his life before theirs. And for him to keep Ryoji's identity a secret — she isn't even sure if he does it for his own sake, for Ryoji's, or for all of theirs.

But she knows one thing for certain, now that the rage and that has been boiling inside the crevices of her soul is gone; that Makoto could never put them in harm's way voluntarily.

She shakes her head and walks over to him slowly, the sounds of her boots against the fallen snow rendering any attempts at sneaking useless. He doesn't turn to her, but acknowledges her presence by scooting slightly to the left, leaving enough space on the bench for her to sit on.

Once she does, she takes a good, long look at him as he looks up at the yellowish moon above, his feet resting in the pool of liquid red underneath the soles of his shoes. They sit there in silence for a while before she decides to break them. "You know… you still haven't given me the reason."

He looks back down at her, his eyes unreadable, but the pain in those pair of steel gray she's always loved is too visible to be ignored. He smiles. "And here I thought you've already given up on finding out."

She pouts. "Fat chance."

He shakes his head, but says nothing for a while longer, his back still hunched and his eyes still glued to her. He then tears them away from her, his hands clasped together. His breath is a bit unsure, slightly ragged, but his face is controlled. She has to remind herself that these are the skills he's always has in him—the skills to conceal any and everything he's thinking and feeling under a near impenetrable wall of cold apathy.

She wants to tear the damn fortress back down like she's done before, but this is different. She's shown him her distrust, and it's sending him down the pit of self-deprecation. He's blaming himself, for all things and everything, like he used to do. Before she could do anything, she has to show him that even if she had a brief period of faithlessness against him, she still believes in him, she still trusts him with both her body and her soul.

But before she could set out to say those words, he interrupts her with a whisper. "What do you think life is?"

The question stops her. She is thinking about not answering it and pressing for the answer, but the inquiry itself feels… important. Necessary. She lets herself think about it for a bit before murmuring, a little unsure. "I think… life is the experiences. To live, for me, is to experience things, both good and bad, and cherish them all."

He smiles. "A bit different from mine, but… thank you, for answering."

"What's yours?" She asks.

"You know about my power as the Wild Card, right? The power to change Personas at my own free will, to change my personalities as I wish?" He says, gray eyes boring straight into hers. She gulps, but nods. When she does, he continues. "My abilities are dictated by the bonds I have with other people. My power—my life—is made out of the bonds I've shared with all of you."

My life is made out of the bonds I have.

"You mean…" She begins, the weight of that single sentence dawning on her.

"My life is defined as the bonds I've made, the very connections I've established," He replies. "If I forget it all… it would've been as if I've never lived before. I can't allow that, not when this life belongs to all of you, not when this life is shaped and made by the things you've given me. If I choose to forget, It'd have meant that I choose to trample on everything you all have done for my sake."

He doesn't even view his life as his own. He sees it as theirs, and he's acting according to how he thinks, and that scares her. To think he's carrying this weight all by himself, to think he'd sacrifice his own sense of self, his autonomy, his individuality, just to protect and preserve the bonds she's always taken for granted.

He sees life from a very different angle from her.

"Makoto—" She begins, but cut herself short. She couldn't say that he's wrong. It's a matter of how you see things, it's a matter of perspective, a clash of ideals. No one is absolutely right, and no one is outright wrong, either. She couldn't do that. She can't rebuff his definition just because she sees it differently. So she changes the way she words it and says, quietly. "You… value our bonds more than I ever will."

"I know," He says, puffs of frigid cold leaving his lips as he lets out a short laugh. "But neither of us is wrong about this. Life is the combination of things, it's up to us to choose what aspect of life matters to us more."

"…You're right," She hums. When he doesn't move, she scoots a bit closer, slowly, until her knee finally touches his. He doesn't flinch away, but he's looking at her, curious. "And… I want you to know that I still love you."

That seems to surprise him. He blinks stupidly a few times before murmuring. "…Are you sure?"

"Mhm," She hums, and without his consent, pulls the right hand he tugs away in his pocket out and interlaces their fingers. It takes a while, but she finally feels him squeezing back just slightly. "I know you have your reasons to lie. I understand now, and while I don't think I can fully forgive you… I can say, for certain, that you did what you did not for your own sake, but for someone else's. And I'm sorry… for making you think I don't trust you anymore."

"Not that it's unfounded, but…" He sighs, holding her hand to his lips and kisses her knuckles softly. "If you think I'm still worthy of your trust, then I'll do my best to live up to that."

"You'd better," She murmurs. "…But I believe you will."

"…That kind of baseless trust is scary," He says as he shifts his hand slightly. "Are you sure you should be putting your faith in me like this, after the things I've done?"

"I am," She says, leaning her head onto his shoulder as she sighs. "I trust you with everything, Makoto."

She couldn't see his face, but she feels the rumbling in his chest, and she thinks he's chuckling. She smiles to herself, her other hand finding its way to his scarred one and covers it with both of her palms, his crooked, unfeeling fingers cold against her touch. She could never get over the fact that he could barely feel them anymore, but decides not to dwell too much on it.

"I love you," She hears him breathes as his fingers tighten around her own gently.

"And I you," She whispers back.

It looks like Junpei has already properly apologized to Makoto and made up their friendship. How does she know?

Because they're playing Mario Kart in the lounge.

"I've never really pegged you for a gamer type, kid," Aragaki says, propping his chin on his palm, legs crossed as he watches the two duking it out.

"You've never pegged me for any type, rather," He retorts back before literally slamming Junpei's cart off his screen. "You suck, Junpei."

"Dude, the heck!? How are you so good at this!?"

"Practice."

"I've never seen you be bad at anything," Amada muses from the back, Koromaru in tow. "Yuuki-san, I think you're way too talented with everything. I mean, best at Kendo? Strongest Persona User? Top of your grade academic-wise? Even Kirijou-senpai couldn't pull that off in such a short time!"

Inwardly, Yukari agrees.

"I only won silver in Kendo," He says, throwing the console down to the ground and puts a fist up in the air. "Yes!"

"You're unfair, man! Unfair! Gimme some of your brain cells!" Junpei whines before trying to circle his arm around Makoto's neck, and the latter is quick to slip out of the way, too.

"I don't think he can give 'em to you, seeing that he's always sharing that one cell with Aki and using it to troll the shit right outta me," Aragaki says.

"We're not that bad, Shinji!" She hears Sanada (and sees Mitsuru looking at them, amused and annoyed in equal measures) yells from the kitchen.

"The fact that you're using we prove my points, you know? Jesus Christ, the two of you suck."

"As I said," Amada seems to giggle as he takes a spot near Aragaki. The older man sighs and pats the boy's head a little. "You're way too talented about everything to be normal, Yuuki-san. Could you share some secrets with me?"

Makoto looks a bit lost at that. He chews his tongue a little, brows furrow in thoughts (with a hand also trying to swat Junpei away) before he says. "…Practice?"

Aragaki just laughs while Yukari smiles a little; not knowing what to actually say as a proper answer is something he would do. She exchanged an amused look with Mitsuru, who's still in the kitchen chatting with Sanada, then lands her eyes back to Fuuka who's silently tinkering with a bit of technology she doesn't even care to name. She then sits down beside Makoto as he picks up the controller again. "I see you two have made up. That's nice."

"Yeah, sorry about that again, dude," Junpei says, patting Makoto's back. This time he's careful enough not to hurt his already painful back, because if he does, she's going to rip him a new one. "I shouldn't have yelled at you like that."

Makoto just shrugs. "No offense taken. I mean… I earned that."

"Stop with self-loathing for a minute there, Makoto!" Aragaki says, grabbing his head with enough force that a vein pops on his hand, and Makoto's half-laughing, half-whining, trying and failing to pry himself free from the iron grip. "I told you before, you ain't allowed to hate yourself!"

"Ow, ow, okay, okay! Hand off my head before you split my skull open!"

Aragaki complies, and Makoto sighs a little in relief, his hand absently rubbing his head.

After a while, he passes the controller to Sanada. She's a bit (a lot) surprised, but doesn't voice it as she watches him and Aragaki, of all people, almost ripping each other a new one in Mario Kart, a game for friendships (as Junpei puts it). She's sitting beside Makoto, who's watching with his cheek in his hand, a nearly imperceptible smile on his face.

"You know," She begins, her hand subtly holding his. She feels him rubbing his thumb across her knuckles and giggles a little. "Who would've thought that Aragaki-senpai, of all people, would play something like this?"

"I can still hear you, Takeba!"

She ignores that.

"Everyone has a surprising side to them," Makoto hums. She leans her head against his shoulder and lets his body warmth seeps through her clothes. And then, he lowers his voice, just for her to hear. "Much like how surprised I am, seeing you being so cute and easily flustered around me."

She hits his arm a little before hissing. "Your attempt to flirt sucks."

He smiles. "I tried."

The night was well spent, if anyone asks her.

They manage to forget about the Dark Hour and Nyx for a moment. But she thinks, from the looks on everyone's faces, that they're half-way to their decisions already. And she thinks she knows what they are all going to choose.

She finds herself in his room (she hasn't been in here for a week and it feels like forever) again, and as soon as she steps in, she makes a beeline for the bed, dragging him along without his consent. He doesn't put up a fight, however, so she just shrugs and goes with the flow.

They ended up sitting with their backs against the wall, legs crossed, knees slightly overlapping. She isn't too sure if her eyes are deceiving her or not, but when they're together alone like this, he seems so much softer than she remembers. She smiles and pulls his left hand to her lap, kneading it, massaging away the little tense spots on it.

He hums, content, before whispering softly. "Have you made your decision yet?"

"Yeah," She promptly answers as she holds his hand in hers. He responds with a gentle but firm grip, his thumb absently rubbing the back of her fingers. "You don't need to ask me. I think I've already made myself clear the first time."

"I see," He says. After a pause, he smiles slightly. "You remember what I said about my powers coming from the bonds I've made?"

"Yeah, why?" She asks, tilting her head slightly.

"Each of you represents a certain aspect of life—a certain Arcana," He says. She could surmise that much, seeing that each Full Moon Shadows are also identifiable with an Arcana. But she isn't too familiar with the concept. He turns to her, and smiles. "I'm the Fool, the number 0. And the SEES—all of you—represents me."

"You mean," She begins. "The bonds with all of us literally give something like Orpheus power?"

"And everything else of the Fool Arcana, yes," He scratches his cheek. "It's slightly hard to explain, but each of my Personas are a bit different. They all belongs to one Arcana or the other, and the stronger that bond is, the stronger my Persona from that Arcana becomes."

"That means the closer you are to all of us as a group and as individuals, the stronger and more versatile your power is, huh?" She says, smiling slightly. "And you're amazing now. That's good."

He chuckles. "Do you want to know which person belongs to what card?"

"Sure."

"Junpei's the Magician," He says. Yukari makes a face; how is that Stupei a Magician? Upon seeing her expression, however, Makoto laughs, his voice so soft and so beautiful. "The Magician represents strong will and determination."

"Oh," Is all she could think of saying. That explains it. No matter how stupid that guy is, he's really stubborn and maybe a bit of a bullhead. But he's determined, very much so, that much's certain. "That actually makes sense."

"I know, right?" He hums. "Yamagishi is the Priestess. Intuition, and spirituality."

"Also perfectly fit," She says. "Lemme guess; Mitsuru-senpai is an Empress?"

"Yes," He confirms with a small nod. "Motherhood, protection, and comfort. She actually seems a bit more like an Emperor to me, but she's a woman, so… yeah."

"Makoto, if she heard that, she'd execute you."

He shivers. "Yeah, please no."

She laughs a little and massages his palm again. He seems to relax further at that, his eyes close. They let silence fills the air for a while, comfortable and warm, a little fuzzy. She likes it, so she lets it be. After maybe a few minutes, she continues. "What about Sanada-senpai and Aragaki-senpai?"

"Sanada-senpai is the Emperor; strong willed, masculinity," He says, and she has to agree. Being a battle and workout maniac that he is, this makes a lot of sense. "Shinjirou-senpai (there it is again, first name!) is the Hierophant; education, authority. Someone who's wise and logical… also someone with an unhealthy obsession with the past."

"Yeah, since he's a really street-smart person, huh," She hums. She thinks the obsession with the past bits is tied to killing Amada's mother, but she isn't too sure. She just shrugs. "That leaves me, Amada-kun, Aigis and Koromaru, right?"

"Koromaru is Strength; courage and virtue over brute force. He's a really gentle dog, and a brave one, too, so I think it fits," Makoto says, hand absently rubbing his knee. "Amada is Justice; stoic, seeking order and justice, as the name implies."

She winces a little, remembering the snippets of conversations she's heard that, at first, he seeks revenge for his mother, killed while Aragaki's Persona went berserk. But she understands that; to seek justice even though he'd be putting himself in danger. And he even wanted to help SEES before all of that, too.

"Aigis is the Chariot, driven, sometime to the point of being narrow-visioned. But determined enough to carve a path forward on her own."

That is also on point.

After a pause, he adds with a smile. "I've managed to do quite well with the power you've given me."

"...That also means all of us trust you, and you trust us all, no?" She says with a small smile.

He nods. "That is true."

A pause. "What about me? What's my Arcana?"

He tilts his head a little, as if thinking, and not about which one she belongs to, either. It seems like he's trying to find a way to word it. In the end, he shrugs and pushes himself away from the wall slightly. He then turns towards her with a gentle smile and places his hand on her cheek. She blinks stupidly, and before she could form an answer, his lips are already on hers.

This kiss is the best by far, tender but with a little bit of intensity that literally steals her breath away. He nudges his way into her mouth and carefully massages her tongue with his own, a small sigh escaping his lips as he pushes her down onto the bed, trapping her between his arms, his chest pressed firmly against her own.

The moment stretches into forever, eternity that she doesn't want to end, a moment where she could forget about everything and just live, normally. She slings both her arms around his neck and pulls him closer still. He hums before pulling slightly away, scarred hand caressing her jaw and down her neck, resting snugly right above her choker.

With a smile that she loves so, so much, he murmurs. "Lovers."

She laughs lightly. She doesn't need any more interpretation to know what it means. "I see."

She pulls him back down for another kiss.

It doesn't matter what kind of trials and tribulations await them. She's sure that, as along as all of them are together, as long as Makoto's here, everything will be fine.

They'll be alright.

(But even so, a part of her thinks differently).

(There will be pain at the end of the road).

(That… is what her instinct is telling her).