Fool's Gamble
Life 96
Chapter XVI: Fimbulvetr
Untouchable-Armaments Airsoft
Central Street, Shibuya
April 15th, 2016
It was… odd, stepping foot into the once intimidating and murky shop, the absolute domain and business place of Former-Yakuza Enforcer Munehisa Iwai.
Now, the place looked like something you could take your children to, spotlessly clean and as bright and colorful as a Big Bang Burger.
As well, the disconnect between the name stood clear to Akira, previously a well-worn neon sign proclaimed "Unstoppables".
Now, a wooden sign atop the front door read "Untouchable-Armaments, Airsoft That'll Make You Unstoppable!"
But aside from just the superficial changed, were the general vibe of the shop itself, no longer crowded with displays and assorted decorations that led to a dark and claustrophobic store, not a wide and well lit shop with racks and shelves lining the walls, Iwai's pawn counter still there, but now free standing and clear of clutter.
It was an odd feeling for Akira, to feel so lost in a place he had spent so much time in, but he supposed it wasn't the most mind shattering of changes he had encountered so far.
Mako didn't lift a hand to help carry Shiho through the door, just slinking over to the counter as Akira led the girl over to a bench in the corner of the shop, a coffee table lying just before, covered in magazines.
Akira laid Shiho carefully down, only then looking back over to Mako, who stared back in disguised interest as she pretended to be unaffected by whatever she likely thought of Shiho's madness.
"You going to say something, yeah? I mean, my boss is going to lose his shit at little miss Psycho there, and you are here looking around like McFly in '55." Mako said with a bit of bite to her tone as Akira struggled for words, a hand running down his face from the sheer volume of all that had happened to him in a single day.
"Uh, yeah. This place just, you know, looks different than I expected."
"What, little shop in a back alley, you expected cockroaches and human trafficking?" A playful grin grew on Mako's face then, a hint of teeth flashing like fangs as Akira just shook his head, having great difficulty connecting this… punk with the girl he had once known, but she looked to be getting impatient.
"Suzui, she's sick, she got infected with a virus, and it-"
"Made her batshit insane and violent as hell? Yeah, I noticed it going around. Flu Season has been a real freak show." Mako said as she looked over Akira's shoulder then, a hand lazily dropping before the counter, the girl moving before Akira could even react.
And his eyes went wide as he watched seconds go by, Shiho's blazing eyes as she lunged for his back, Mako's arm quickly held with a dark blue device in her hand.
And an electric strip came flying out of it's barrel, live electricity roaring out as it slammed straight into Shiho's chest, the rage and consciousness flowing out of her as she collapsed against the counter.
Akira had nearly been attacked, and had been saved, in mere seconds.
"Damn. Move her again, I don't want blood on the glass."
"So, you and the Council Dickhead got together to try and cure a highly infectious virus that our school nurse released. That's… kinda unbelievable, but I can't really fault it. I've heard far crazier." Mako said with a shrug of her shoulders, the two of them sitting on the sofa as Akira explained the situation to her.
Metaverse and Cognition, obviously excluded.
Shiho laid on the coffee table, ziptied and restrained as the Virus seemed capable of overriding her system, and it kept waking her up faster and faster, that same vicious instinct controlling the young athlete.
It was also as if the Virus knew she was in danger of being cured, and was actively trying to break her free, Shiho acting like a cornered animal as Akira noticed she was actually wearing out the zip-ties.
Akira was… hesitant here, as it was made all too clear now and before that this Virus was capable of some horrifying things, and that Shiho could probably kill him with her bare hands, this otherworldly beast of power wearing her skin like sheep's clothing.
However, Akira knew that he had a precious opportunity here, one that he could not afford to waste.
Considering he had been able to apprehend Shiho, he now had the syringe of the virus that she had meant for him, Akira had everything they needed to combat the threat of Tae.
They had essentially Patient Zero, a prime example of the virus' effects and behavior, a perfect control candidate to create a vaccine.
Whether they still needed her infected, Akira had no idea, but he knew between the sample and her, they would have no problem putting an end to this nightmare.
The only real problem, lie in getting back to Shujin and delivering both the vial and Shiho to whoever it was Akechi was working with.
The boy mentioned working with a teacher on the virus, but not who, as well as the danger that Akira didn't know enough about the virus itself.
Or if other infected would arrive to try and retrieve Shiho and infect him still, considering Shiho had seemingly been able to track him from a distance, if not outright find him somehow.
It left the question of: Were the Infected members of an artificial hive-mind, communicating from a distance and relaying information? Or was he just jumping at shadows, and Shiho had just followed him from Shujin?
"So what do you need, Kurusu?" Mako said with a glance then, her hand still on the taser she'd dispatched against Shiho, a wayward glance every now and then confirming she was still restrained and pacified.
"A ride, probably. Akechi said he had a lab set up at Shujin, and someone helping make a cure to the virus. I need to get this sample, and Shiho, back there." Akira said with a grimace as he held up the syringe of almost living liquid, the red serum seeming to bubble in anger as he lightly shook the glass.
It was an unreal experience, holding a sample of a horribly infectious and sadistic virus, almost like holding the weight of the world in a single hand, a pressure on him that he had rarely felt before.
Mako only got a contemplative look on her face, a glance being shot to the back of the store as she looked back at him, a pensive look to her lips as he couldn't decide if she looked more nervous or annoyed.
"Look, I don't have a car and my boss isn't around, but I think I could help you. At least partially."
"I'm open for any assistance, I didn't expect things to so quickly get out of control… I'm not too used to being on my own…" Akira said with a weary attempt at a smile as Mako held up a hand to stop him, the taser lazily pointing back to Shiho to refocus his attention.
"I only have my bike, so I can't really offer you a ride, but look, we can split up on this.
I'll lend you my trusty Nintendo Zapper here, and you take our girl on the train. I'll take your vial to the school and find Magatsu, he teaches Biology if you've seen him before. I'd bet it's him since Akechi's always hanging out with him, some real Sherlock and Mycroft energy. Point is, by doing things like this, we can get this all started before you get back with her."
For a moment, Akira actually was surprised to feel a sense of caution flare up in him, the specter of Mors warning him of a possible betrayal, but he knew she was right.
If he took the Subway with Shiho, she was incredibly likely to break free, and he did not need to be carrying the virus sample when she did.
Either she'd end up breaking the syringe, or injecting him with it, let alone if his fear of being tracked was true.
No, if he was escorting Shiho, he had to be ready and capable of fighting back, not protecting a fragile glass sample that their plan relied so heavily on.
With a great amount of effort, Akira placed the sample in Mako's open hand, taking the stun gun with the other.
It was an impressive piece, obviously one of Iwai's creations, but very different in design.
It had an almost childish design on it, cartoonish flames licking across the side of it, and some letterings written in bold white.
The Ferryman
A fitting theme, he supposed, stowing the stun-gun in his waistband as he hauled the dead weight of Shiho to her feet, her body taking up most of his strength as he hauled the girl out the front door, Mako grabbing a helmet by the door before following him out, the image of a motorcycle coming into view by the dumpster.
And Akira was struck by how similar it looked to Johana, but he didn't have time to entertain thoughts that would only fuel his depression.
He had to babysit an old friend that was now a doped up superhuman, while riding the public train and not getting arrested for dragging an injured and bloody girl across the city.
If there was a God, he hated Akira Kurusu.
Because despite his natural instinct to trust Makoto Niijima.
Having met Mako Niijima, Akira felt like he'd just made a deal with the Devil…
"We will be arriving in Aoyama-Itchome within the hour, thank you for choosing the Tokyo Metro. Have a pleasant trip!"
Of course, when Akira actually gets a seat on the train, he once again doesn't have the peace to ride in blissful silence.
Tense travels seemed to have become the norm for him lately.
Instead, now he sat on the subway with a tied up artificial psychopath propped up next to him, his fellow passengers giving him death glares, an-
"Such a joy to spend time together again, isn't it…?:
A sickly voice crawled through his mind, a feeling almost like radiation poisoning falling over Akira as he felt him push against the confines of his mask.
The unwanted and uninvited guest, the one figure in his mask that never was meant to be there, that should be long gone.
Loki.
"Finally, it feels like I've been shouting at an emotionally stunted wall!"
Akira could feel the entity roving through his thoughts, and he knew exactly how he found himself in this situation.
While he wore a different Mask than he had before, his Compendium was still there, he could see the pages in his mind like a roadmap of his Metaversal exploits.
However, while all of those Personae still existed somewhere in the depths of Akira's soul, he had lost his connection to any Blood-Bound Personae, the proof of his bonds.
However, when he forged the remains of his Justice Vow onto this reality's Goro Akechi, he resurrected the Blood-Oath they once shared.
Because of this, Akira found himself once more connected with the Embodiment of Justice, Metatron once more rising to his aid, but it was not Metatron that answered his call…
A demented shadow of Loki, the mad fractured Persona of his Goro Akechi, and if it could be believed, it was what remained of his Akechi.
Loki spoke of the Sea of Souls, of fields of aimless and lost spectors that eventually find form and remember what they once were.
When Akira resurrected his bond, he remembered his Goro Akechi… and created the demonic presence in his mind.
Akira aided in the reincarnation of his lost friend, and once most dangerous enemy.
"It's so nice to be back together, isn't it? After all, Maruki knew how badly you wanted me back, and you actually managed it. You got what you wanted Kurusu, we're teammates… once again." Loki said with a vicious snicker as Akira shook his head, the shaking of the train's journey serving only to further aggravate Akira's growing migraine.
Akira knew he couldn't indulge the fiend, while it might have been his friend once, a single glimpse at that black mask on it's face was all Akira needed to separate his fallen friend from this corruptive cretin.
He needed to get back to Shujin, drop Shiho off with that professor and head back into the Laboratory and hope he wasn't too late to help Goro.
Akira remembered, however, the control that Tae's Shadow held, the ability to control and manipulate Life and Death inside her Palace.
That alone made her perhaps the most dangerous Metaversal Monarch, and much like Madarame, Akira knew he would need to alter the Cognition of the real Tae Takemi in order to combat her.
Thankfully, he knew the Treasure was just a Red Herring, so he could skip an infiltration route and planning of the heist itself.
No, Akira instead needed to ensure that he and Goro could fight the Shadow doctor and actually survive.
And what better way to ruin the belief of a doctor who's got a God Complex?
Prove she doesn't control who dies, and save someone her work had damned.
Of course, it wasn't a calm train ride when he had a vindictive God of Mischief clawing at the remains of his sanity
"Don't you find it… Ironic, Joker…?" Loki said with an amused chuckle then as Akira straightened Shiho's form, her head coming to rest on his shoulder as the Virus finally seemed to rest, the poor girl finally getting some sleep.
"Don't talk to me. You're dead." Akira said under his breath as his day had already been stressful enough without another conversation from a living regret.
"And so I was… but do you remember, what today is? Aside from the day Suzui decided to hunt you down…?" Loki said with an interested tone then, like someone picking at a scab as Akira only snarled in turn.
He knew exactly what Loki was hinting at, and he would not stand the Jotun pressing his buttons.
"I'm not in the mood…"
"April fifteenth… Shiho Suzui jumped on this same day… And now, on the day she was meant to die, you instead throw yourself to her wolves… The noble fool, baring his throat to any killer with a friend's face…"
Akira knew it was right, he had known that since he ate breakfast, that today was the day that Kamoshida's abuse finally tipped Shiho over the edge.
When she attempted suicide, when he and Ryuji had sworn to deal with Kamoshida then and there, when Ann had ended up tagging along into the Palace and the Phantom Thieves had finally become more than idle conversation.
April fifteenth was the day that everything changed.
And now, they have changed yet again.
"I'm not having this conversation."
"You're right. You're not. We are… Now, let's talk about why you shut your eyes and let your friends die, when they didn't have to…? You shouldn't have left her alone, you shouldn't have drunk that night, you shouldn't have let me sacrifice myself for you and your DAMN JUSTICE, YOU PIECE OF HUMAN FILTH."
Silence then, thoughts long held laid bare as Akira watched the tunnels pass through the clouded glass, the trip taking far longer than expected as Akira lost himself to the pit of despair that Loki fought to drag him to, though he had the grace to fight such a voyage.
"I never made you do anything, not in Maruki's reality, not in Sae's Casino, not even in Mementos. You act like a bitter puppet on strings, but you always had a choice, Crow. You just chose not to see the other options."
"Don't call me that. You know it's not my name, it wasn't then and it sure as hell isn't now…"
"And what if I do, hmm? Are you going to choke me again? I hold all the cards, and you're out of luck, your threats are as hollow as your capabilities. You're just a speck of light inside my mask." Akira bit back, vividly remembering when Akechi had admitted that he hated him, had shattered the delusion of friendship they held and made real to him how things truly were.
While he felt in his heart that Crow had been his brother in arms, his fellow Thief that he still regretted leaving behind, he had come to know that Crow and Goro Akechi were not always the same person, nor had they ever been.
Crow was nothing more than the goodness he had wanted to see in Akechi, not what had actually existed.
And now he lived with the reality of who he had once been, of who Akechi had once been, a pale reflection of his grief-stricken friend.
But now, Akira refused to budge an inch for a devil that pulled at his heartstrings, knew what cords to play to send him reeling.
But Akira knew just what words to say in turn.
"You act like a monster, but you're still just that little boy crying outside his mother's door, hoping she'll smile and say everything's alright, but you know she'll never smile at you again, because you're not her son, you're Shido's. If she saw what you became, she would be horrified."
And if Goro Akechi could die for a third time, he would have.
And like that, the pressure was gone, and Akira could breathe again without the dour and overwhelming gloom sitting on him like a mantle.
Akira was alone, and he was thankful for that fact.
Until he wasn't.
"Now approaching Aoyama-Itchome, please remain seated."
Almost as if she had woken up in a fright, Shiho broke into sudden motion, those scarlet-stained eyes looking once more at Akira in unbridled fury.
Quickly shuffling away from her, not giving a thought to the odd look their fellow passengers gave, Akira merely held up his hands in a prayer for peace as Shiho slowly rose to her feet, a look on her face not unlike that of a curious predator.
"Shiho, calm down, please. I'm just trying to help you, okay? This isn't you, Tae, Dr. Takemi, she altered your mind. You can fight it, alright? You don't have to-" Akira tried to reason with the addled girl, but found no chance of success as she dove at him faster than he could even catch, his feet giving out as her body slammed into him with the force of a train, making that the second time she had literally knocked him off his feet.
However, this time was far different, the sealed subway door behind him, and she wasn't stopping.
With a cry of pain, Akira choked on his breath as she threw him backwards through the door, the train's frame bending like tinfoil as he went crashing out into the empty tunnel line, Shiho following along after him as the train quickly left them behind, the passengers scream echoing out in the tunnel to match his.
And yet, Akira was alive, thrown from a moving train and roughly tossed onto the tracks like a ragdoll with bruised threads, but alive nonetheless.
Akira faintly noticed blood running freely from his nose and the stinging throb that echoed from it as he rose to his shaking feet, the world blurring around him in a herculean struggle to regain his balance, the shaky figure of Shiho stalking ever closer.
"Shiho… stop… I'm trying to… help." He managed to cough out as she kept coming closer, her eyes burning brightly as he struggled to keep his distance, a seemingly pointless attempt to reach the girl through the daze of the virus' hold on her mind.
And yet, he knew he had to, he had to free Shiho from Takemi's control, he owed her that much.
"And you'll die trying."
Akira just snarled in pain and a tired sense of rage as she kept approaching him in malicious silence, Loki's words ringing true as Akira felt his resolve slipping, as he knew it was right, there wasn't a way for him to stop her.
He wasn't able to reach her, to pierce the veil that Tae had drowned her in.
Akira Kurusu couldn't manage it.
"Don't be a fool, Joker! If you don't fight, you will die!"
"Then I die!" Akira cried out in rage as he quickly threw himself to Shiho's side, the controlled girl flinching at the movement as Akira rushed past her, his blood trailing as he staggered down the tunnel.
"You can't escape her. What do you hope to achieve, in this foolish flight of fancy?"
Akira refused to answer, his focus purely on moving forward, the vision of the station platform not far from the end of his sight.
He knew she was following him, her slow and steady footsteps roaring out in the silence of the tunnel, the ambience of the station far off and muted as if they were cut off from that plane of reality.
Akira knew what he had to do: Get to Shujin, lead Shiho there, and get that teacher to help him cure the virus with Shiho and the sample providing the basis for a vaccine.
But with the copper taste of his own blood on his tongue, and as he was slowly realizing the harsh pain painting his left ankle, Akira began to doubt if his goal was even possible.
If Loki was correct, that Akira would die here, bloody and broken to a girl that he had once pitied, once hated, and once longed to reconnect with…
Then so be it.
"Why do you run, Kurusu? The Doctor just wants to help…"
His heart stilled as he turned then, his eyes fighting to stay open as Shiho met him with a twisted smile, her own blood dripping from her teeth as she kept marching ever closer to him.
"Oh, you can fuck right off."
Despair of Death
2016, F.G
Akira Kurusu, was dead.
The boy, her almost assistant in a way, lie dead before her, still as stone and as pale as it.
With wide and horrified eyes, Tae flew into moment as she began checking the boy's pulse, his breathing, desperate to figure out what had gone wrong.
The medication trial had just been for a stress reliever tablet, one to help patients undergoing surgery relax beforehand, for those opposed to Novocaine or Nitrous oxide, a relief for children wary of doctor's offices.
And now, Kurusu was so relaxed it was as if his very heart was falling asleep, the young doctor panicking as her hands flew into motion.
He wasn't breathing, and her hands began beating down against his chest as she tried fruitlessly to revive him, to force his pale form to come back.
One, two, one, two.
Breath.
One, two, one, two.
Breath.
She refused to let him die, this stupid kid that she had tried to cut free from her trials, offering to just sell him his meds without putting his body on the line.
Kur-... Akira, had refused, had told her that her research was too important to leave to chance, that she couldn't risk her own life to advance things, that she was too important to lose.
He had told her, what if she went into cardiac arrest while testing a medication?
Who would even know if she was in the clinic, who would save her? Who would even know that she had died?
So she had agreed to let Akira back on her bench, the damn kid refusing to quit, determined as a saint to help her.
And now, his life was slipping through her fingers and it was all her fault.
No matter what she tried, or how hard she seemed to try to break his ribs to force air into his lungs, the boy remained void of life and sound.
As Tae struggled, tears in her eyes, to force the jaws of death free of her assistant, she felt a cold wave of despair wash over her.
Akira was dead, she had done this, a sixteen year old boy dead at her hand, his future wasted on a crackpot doctor like her.
They had called her Plague before, but now it was all over, she'd be ruined.
More than she would ruin herself, no point to go on when she had broken her most sacred vow, to do no harm.
To protect and aid, never ravage.
She had failed in every sense, as a doctor.
Such pitiful squabbles from a practitioner. Do you think Mother would be proud of you, bawling fat tears over a carcass of your making?
Tae froze, a deep sense of otherworldly wrongness in her blood as she felt eyes on her, an invisible specter trailing across her bones as her skin lit up with spectral blades piercing through.
It wasn't Akira that spoke, instead some dark figure had appeared before her, that voice almost like a vicious mimicry of her own tone.
Shining silver eyes peering at her through a Plague Doctor's mask.
"Who… who are you?" Tae sputtered out in fear as she backed away from Akira, desperate to put some distance between herself and this dark phantom, the figure gliding silently towards her.
The face you never wear, the other side of the mirror. Your other self, long left to the wayside.
Tae nearly jumped when flames of blue flame sprung to life within the office, the figure striding ever closer, a lone gloved finger coming to press against her throat.
Are you truly so pathetic, that you would admit defeat? Allow this boy, your apprentice, to perish on your slab? Are you truly so pitiful, that you will cease your attempts when they bear no fruit?
"It's too late! I… I can't save him, I can't save anyone…" Tae said with a sharp whisper as her eyes trailed Akira's form, his face beginning to turn blue as she knew she'd do more harm than good beating incessantly at his chest like an animal.
It is never too late.
"You're… right." Tae said as she refused to give up, as she couldn't afford to give up, a burning sense of strength welling in her soul as she refused to let Akira die.
Then by all means, Doctor, tend to your patient.
With a shaky hand, Tae felt a weight against her eyes, the shape of a harsh and dark visor forming on her face, her fingers digging into it as she began to scream in agony, the metal fused to her skin as she began to tear it free.
A fountain of blood ran from her eyes as the visor broke into shards, a wave of darkness echoing out from her skin as a golden hue overtook her eyes.
And yet, in such a macabre sight, covered in her own blood, Tae Takemi had never felt more free.
"Come forth, Nightingale! Salvation!"
Thy will be done.
And like that, the Arcana of Death, defied Death.
And a Trickster awoke in a fright, his doctor soaked in blood, but her smile wide and eyes tearful.
I could almost feel my bond with Tae growing.
Death: Rank 7
The Grand Compendium
Nightingale
Arcana: Death
Background: A haunting spirit fashioned from memories of Florence Nightingale, a British nurse during the Crimean War, and widely regarded as the Mother of Modern Nursing.