This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities to events or persons living or dead in your world is purely coincidental.
It's Not Destiny
It Would Be A Grave Mistake To Think So
6/7 Friday
Evening
The stars glittered from everywhere at once, their burning lights radiating off each other until Aiko realized that she was awake again.
Or...?
Not that she didn't enjoy the view. Ever since the meeting with officer Nijima, her sleep had been plagued with visions of all sorts of permutations related to what she viewed as a 'betrayal'. By comparison, this was like a calming evening excursion into the world she'd become so familiar with lately, and comfortingly devoid of Shadows for once.
It would be so easy to just lie back and relax and just watch the stars wheel by overhead-
No. Can't. Came here for a reason.
The reason spoke to her then, a ringing clarion cutting through the empty space with no sign of its speaker.
"Beautiful, is it not?"
"Y-yes", she agreed, not sure what else to say.
"And yet. This world is not what it should be", Lady Scorpio continued speaking more passionately. "It's filled with empty tribalisms built on distortions of the truth. Once, the realms of the conscious and subconscious world were identical."
A spot in the middle of the empty space seemed to collapse in on itself, everting and becoming a lonely-looking blue planet. "Early humanity, possessing intellects closer to the animals they had arisen from, did not yet possess the ability to conceive of a detailed future as we so often do. They did not dream. They did not imagine."
As she watched, a golden butterfly emerged from the outer darkness and flitted around the planet, scattering some kind of ethereal dust about it.
"They did, however, possess desire. And the energy of that desire, that desperation to survive, called out to a being existing within the rift between worlds. Perhaps early humanity's collective desires pooled together to call it into existence, or perhaps they had always been there, left alone in the void and waiting for the emergence of beings sharing in his gift of sentience and the ability to conceive of the future."
The butterfly flashed white for a brief second before shifting, transitioning into the shape of a nondescript adult male, elegant black hair tied into a ponytail with a pristine white jacket and pants, coupled with a black shirt and tie. A full-face mask clung to his face with a dark butterfly mark running along its left side.
"That being's name is Philemon, the God of the Subconscious. He endeavored to guide humanity's growing souls into what he considered to be a more prosperous state of enlightenment."
Philemon's ethereal shining dust covered the planet now. Each grain was a tiny star, and there were thousands of stars there, thousands of lives, glowing and constantly spreading out further and further across that pure sphere, until-
"However, this effort led to a disaster that nearly destroyed the world."
Something was wrong with the cluster of stars in a certain spot on the globe. They were flickering, and then dying out, and in their wake was only a blot of formless sludge. The beginnings of a Shadow.
"While humanity's self-awareness expanded, so too did their desires. By putting so much of his energy into this effort, Philemon had accidentally created a nexus of psychic energies about the Japanese city of Sumaru."
Aiko frowned, trying to take everything in and formulate some kind of response. "But... I've never heard of a Sumaru city."
"Because, my dear, it was wiped off the face of the Earth, as well as from the collective memory of all humanity. Even the ones who once knew of it could no longer recall its name when the dust settled. Sumaru had become inundated with Philemon's creative power. It had turned into a place where thought and reality drew dangerously close to one another. Where mere rumors, if spread into enough human minds, could affect reality."
The dark ooze that represented this forgotten city began to spread, threatening to cover all of Japan, and then the world.
"Seeking to contain the damage, Philemon excised the entire city, bearing it away to worlds unknown."
Golden light covered the puddle, tearing away the malevolent blob from the rest of the planet, which grew furiously writhing tentacles and worse even as it forcibly was rocketed away to the stars... along with Philemon's shining golden butterfly.
Turning back to the planet, Aiko could see that some residue of the black slime still remained there, dormant for a moment before it began to move on its own again. Though Philemon was gone, a white shell of light descended on the remaining darkness before enveloping the entire world in its protective barrier.
"Philemon's last act as the master of the subconscious realm was to create a block on human understanding, to prevent a resurgence of the Sumaru incident. It causes human minds to reject anything that does not fit into their perception of reality. Such as Personas, and Shadows, and whatever form their world may take at any given time. We call this phenomenon 'The Veil'."
Flashing back to father Shigetsu's earlier words, Aiko watched the barrier complete its goal, covering the planet in a radiant protective sheen. The rest she had been ready to dismiss as pure fantasy, but as Reiha had said about Aiko's earlier explanation, the story of the Veil made far too much sense to be cast aside so easily.
The majority of humans had no idea about any of the many bizarre things she had discovered since arriving at Koashimizu academy. Even when they were directly presented with strong evidence of it, they always created other excuses that fit in with their perception better, so that everything made a logical sense to them.
Just three months ago, she would have been exactly the same way. Ignorant of Shadows, Personas, and everything else in Faraway Lands. And unwilling to accept that there was that much she didn't know about.
"It doesn't work on everybody", she remarked, presenting herself as evidence of that, her voice echoing in the void.
"No", Scorpio's voice became more gentle now that Philemon was no longer their subject of conversation. "The Veil is not a perfect protection against the realm beyond it. It can still present some aspect of itself to certain people in this country, particularly those of a certain age."
Following those words, small cracks began to form in the plastic-wrap barrier, and from those cracks more dark tentacles spilled forth, desperate to escape and shatter the barrier completely.
"It is the age of pedagogy, wherein children are forced under duress to part from their most fantastical beliefs, relegating them to the realms of idle fantasy. While it still retains a reduced role in adulthood in the form of superstition or religion, there are sparing few who believe it in their hearts. Cynicism. Disbelief. Fear of the unknown... these things maintain the Veil for them. The ones undergoing that middle stage, the painful transition between childhood and adulthood, are the ones most likely to be able to peer through the Veil, so long as they retain open minds."
"In other words, people my age", Aiko nodded in comprehension.
So it's true. Everything that Bart-kun said about those groups of teenage Persona-users. Young people who could see beyond the Veil, and sense what was beyond...
"Philemon left a devoted servant behind to try to organize these fortunate few into a force that could avert further catastrophe, and nurture the human spirit to a point where the dark desires could be banished at long last."
Now she was viewing the besieged planet through a window from a distance, the window being a part of the room that had formed itself around her without notice, a chamber of dark blue velvet with a simple desk in its center. The silhouette seated at that desk, his arms steepled in front of him...
"Mr. Igor", Aiko breathed in awe.
"So I was correct", Scorpio's voice sounded disappointed by this reveal. "The Servant was the one who granted you the gift of the wild card. How... unfortunate."
No, she considered. That can't be right. Mr. Igor never said that he was the one who chose me. Why would he choose me? Me, of all people?
Scorpio's voice became harsh again now. "Alas, just like his foolish master before him, the Servant can do little but watch the human world from a distance, through the lens of dreams and reality, and manipulate others into the path of catastrophe. His power is far more limited than Philemon's. You, along with your comrades, are merely the latest pawns in his futile attempts to prevent the Veil's final destruction."
Aiko, too, felt that her anger was finally breaking through whatever air of civility she had brought to this place. "But... no! Mr. Igor helped me. He warned me about Faraway Lands, showed me how to use my masks. My Personas."
"Saving several lives, and forestalling the Veil's destruction", the voice observed. "A small kindness. But what of the future?"
"What about the future?", she accused. "What's so great about the future that you're creating by doing what you do? If anything, you people are making things worse!"
Scorpio chuckled politely. "Dear child. You do not yet understand the full details of our Salvation. Yes, the ability to dream, to conceive of the future and make record of our past remains the greatest and most unique gift of humanity. It is also our curse, the futures we conceive driving so many people to despair."
The revolting slime around Japan roused itself once more, this time taking on the shape of a massive faceless clockwork angel, multiple rigid arms protruding out to hold guns, swords, bells, books, and other universal instruments of control. It loomed large over the nation as if about to pounce.
"A mere six years ago, humanity's collective desire for security and the freedom not to make decisions- the freedom not to think- was so strong, so all-encompassing, that it manifested into a wicked God of control: the Demiurge. Now, the same realm that malevolent being sprung from has already reconstituted itself into something completely new. A new form. A new name. A new mask. The time of peace between each crisis is growing gradually shorter. The holes within and without. Soon, nothing the Servant does will be able to prevent the Veil's destruction. You've been forced into a battle you cannot win."
The machine angel vanished, driven away by the power of the Tricksters, but the leaks across the rest of the world only grew, glass cracks spider-webbing outward from each one as the darkness gushed forth in a flood. Crack met with crack met with crack until the entire Veil began to fall into pieces.
"Perhaps you and your companions might be successful in driving off the cause of the new threat. But even then, how long will it be before the next one strikes? And the next after that?"
There was a noise like a sick animal dying, and then the barrier was completely gone. Voracious after having been held back from its goal for so long, the darkness which had destroyed it flowed across the planet in no time at all, leaving nothing behind but a globe of featureless black that emitted a chorus of horrific, tormented screams without visible mouths until she had to cover her ears to block them out.
"You see? The Servant is a fool. He resorts to short-term solutions, luring bands of gullible teenagers in to become his soldiers and thwart the malevolent Gods forged of human desires. He still believes that humanity can be turned back to the path of prosperity by the guidance of his velvet-gloved hand. He refuses to acknowledge the true darkness that lies within humans, even as it continues to strain against the Veil, seeking a way through, until the day comes when it finally shatters."
Aiko had several seconds to behold the globe of corrosive dark mud before something pierced through the gloom. It was one of the shimmering stars from before. Though smaller in number, they shone far brighter, driving away the darkness wherever they appeared.
"Our goal, our Salvation... Is to prepare humanity for that day, whenever it may come. Any human who still possesses the potential to gain a Persona must have it awakened and nurtured. Only those with the power will survive the cataclysmic end of Philemon's Veil, and live to rebuild our world as it should have been; perfection."
The bright stars released their full light, driving the slime back to the farthest recesses of the world. What was left behind was hardly recognizable as the planet humanity called home. It shone with a new, alien light, and one yet to be discovered or even conceived save in the mind of one.
It reminded her that all of this had been illusion, merely a projection of Lady Scorpio's own mind, and that realization shifted her perceptions enough that she could sense its falseness, like an expert mannequin shedding human-like skin.
That universe shattered, just as the barrier had. They were back in the dressing room, Aiko still laid down on a pile of dislodged books.
Scorpio was still watching her, her kimono-clad arms crossed in preparation. "Now do you see, child? You understand that our Salvation is needed?"
Ai couldn't think of what to say right away. Her only action was to stand back up, eyes searching the empty air for some trace of the vision.
To say it was a lot to take in at once would be the ultimate understatement.
"We're supposed to take your word for all of this", she pointed out defiantly. "Just trust that you're really doing all this to help people? That whole vision you fed me could have been a lie."
"Denial", Scorpio observed sardonically behind her mask. "The most banal and predictable of responses from a human living in a world where Philemon's Veil still holds sway If you continue to deny a fact against all proof otherwise, then it does not exist to you. It is far easier for humans to think that way. Less frightening... But it is not the truth. Dear... You know the truth."
Staring back into the black sockets of that horrible motionless mask, she felt... not sure what to feel.
"The midpoint", Scorpio suggested sagely. "The axis between two sides, a point where you cannot decide what is truly the right path. You see child, I understand you far better than you think. Perhaps, better than you yourself do."
Instinct sent her withdrawing back, as far away from the motionless face and the cloying words coming out of it. "You don't know a damn thing about me!", she shuddered.
"More denial", the woman observed with a touch of sadness. "It's alright. I know. I know what it was which caused you to come out here tonight without your allies."
"To protect them from you!", Aiko snapped back, desperate to block out the poison of this woman's honeyed words but unwilling to place her hands on her ears and reveal that.
Scorpio gave another infuriatingly polite chuckle. "Ah, but child, that is merely half of the reason. The other half? You would rather place yourself at risk than anyone else. Even those who are not your friends. Even Benihime Kujou, whom who claim to hate."
"It's my life!", she screamed back into the invisible tide smothering her. "I can decide if I want to risk it or not!"
"Yes", the woman mused, shaking her head. "You see, I can sense your inner will of destruction in you now. Your will of self-destruction."
It felt like she was falling.
No. No, that's not right. It can't be.
"And who could blame you for it, truly?", Scorpio continued on mercilessly, uncaring about how much the words hurt her. "A non-existent father. An absentee mother who only ever viewed you as an inconvenience and a source of shame-"
Falling...
"Stop... it... stop!"
"-Pale hair and green eyes which marked you as a target for ridicule from other children, and uncertain nationality in a country where that has become an important factor for one's inclusion into society-"
Falling...
"STOP IT!"
"-written off as less than worthless. Who could blame you for searching for a new home far away from such grief? Who, indeed, could blame you for seeking out that new home in the Lands beyond this life?"
She was surprised to discover she was holding her hands to her head and closing her eyes at the same time she felt two strong arms grabbing hers, to pull them away as if Scorpio wanted to see her tears up close.
"Poor, frightened child. But you don't have to live like that any more. This can be your home. Become Queen Aquarius, and nurture your skills. I can be the caring mother that you have always deserved."
The kimono's sleeves drooped down from an outstretched arm which beckoned to her eager eyes.
"Come to me now. Come to your mother."
That moment would remain with Aiko forever.
How long it lasted she would never know, but it could not have been very long. What mattered, what would keep her up at night, was that the moment had existed.
There had been a moment where all other considerations and knowledge had fallen away, leaving only naked desire to balm an invisible wound she had been nursing since before she could remember.
It felt like she was a lonely child again, crying out at the unfairness of the universe.
I want someone to love me.
I want someone who can make this world make sense.
I want someone to guide me. I'm tired of being the one who has to make the decisions.
I want mommy. I want mommy to love me.
Then, all too soon, her Persona saved her. A painful tug of the mind, the inner self, pulled her out of the reverie of desire and made her realize what was really happening.
She'd seen mind-influencing skills before. Both as witness to one of her comrades being affected by it, and as a direct victim of it. It never stopped being embarrassing when you were shocked out of the trance, and remembered, if only faintly, what one had been doing while under the effects of Marin Karin.
But compared to Lady Scorpio, to the power of her Persona, every single Shadow that she had ever seen using that type of skill was less than a joke. She could actually sense the raw power of it now, a cloying pressure on her mind that had grown with every word until giving into it felt like going deeper into the most comfortable warm pool ever... and rejecting it felt like stepping back out of that wonderful warm pool in the cold, bitter air of winter.
She wanted to laugh.
I can't believe it. She almost had me. Almost had me ignoring everything else I've seen tonight and hugging her and discarding everyone just so I could feel for a moment like I actually had a loving parent. Just for the sensation of floating around in some warm place.
Never again.
Vigorously clearing out her eyes and ears and brain, she fixed the geisha mask with a stare. "Have you ever actually spoken with Mr. Igor? Did you ever think to ask him why he does it like this?"
"We have never spoken", Scorpio clarified. "I have only beheld the Servant and his misdeeds in my dream visions." Silk gloved hands tightened into fists inside her voluminous sleeves. "Had I the chance, I would gladly destroy the Servant for his constant meddling. Slowly. Painfully. So that he may understand all the pain that he has caused others."
There we go. Feeling the older woman's cold rage more acutely now, she smiled sadly, inwardly pleased at being saved from the void of not truly knowing which side was in the right, of which was worthy of her help.
"See, that's the difference. That's the reason I will never become your child, your Queen Aquarius... Because you don't care. You don't care if people get hurt in order to bring your precious 'Salvation'. You're trying to awaken Personas in as many people as you can, even if the ones who don't have one die."
Scorpio spread her arms. "They would die anyway. Those with such inflexible and closed minds are mere fodder to the Shadows. You must understand... Only the ones who hold the strength to embrace their other selves can be permitted to survive. It is inevitable."
Aiko grunted something unflattering, narrowing her gaze. She was getting to like this woman less and less with every moment. "I kind of doubt you'd be saying that if you didn't have a Persona." Pausing, she studied the polished mask anew. "Hold on. If Mr. Igor didn't give you and Samesaji the power, then who did?"
Scorpio responded with a mirthless laugh, one tinged with madness and threatening enough that Aiko actually took a step back towards the wall she'd been thrown into before.
"That is a story for another time, child. And one that you shall never know, if you choose to continue to remain a puppet of Philemon's Servant."
Her lips set firmly, she reached for the handle of her sword. "Sorry, but no. Mr. Igor might be really creepy, but he hasn't steered me wrong so far. And he doesn't torture people trying to get them to awaken to their Personas."
Scorpio sighed, her mask unable to stifle the genuine, heartfelt regret in her words.
Perhaps she had wanted to have a daughter just as badly as Aiko had wanted a mother.
But real parents don't brainwash their kids, she snarled inwardly.
"I see. Even after all you have seen and experienced tonight... You still remain a foolish, unwise child. There is no cure for your condition except time, and even then..."
"Dantal-"
She had the cutlass halfway out of its sheath when an invisible wall slammed into her, knocking her back into the door. Dazed and winded, she was still able to make out the tall, slender shape of the figure that was floating next to Scorpio for the first time, now that its true power had finally been redirected from influencing her mind and properly unleashed.
Against me. Have to fight-
The Persona was nearly a unique enough sight to distract her from the pain and exhaustion. A lean, buxom woman dressed in a single-piece blue gown with numerous exotic necklaces draped around her neck, teal and pink eye shadow slung beneath a golden headdress in the shape of a hooded cobra, hooked fangs at the ready and several other regal looking bronze accessories.
That unearthly beauty and luxury was marred however, by both the lengths of thick, drab-colored bandages wrapped around her arms from the hands down, and the exposed bottoms of her legs in the same shape... As well as the inhumanly cruel expression on her well-kept features. A face that somehow periodically shifted between divine youth and beauty, and something closer to the face of a rotting corpse...
A last attempt to raise her blade was denied by one of those bandages suddenly shooting out as quick as thought to knock it from her grasp, clattering along the floor.
"Well done, oh Glorious Cleopatra", Scorpio praised her Persona, having not moved from her spot since what could only generously be referred to as a 'fight' had started. "Do not kill her. She has friends who would begin to ask questions if she died here. We still must remain hidden from the public eye."
The tall Persona's lips took on a pout of disappointment at having her first plan of simply smothering Aiko in her countless bandages canceled, but the follow up impacts were no less brutal for it, eventually anchoring her to the wall by all four limbs so she could not move.
Now Scorpio stood, arms folded neatly about her waist, and Aiko had no choice but to stare into that awful frozen mask. Something behind it- the same power which had caused the earlier visions- reached out to her mind.
"We have no quarrel if you mean to continue to save others from the grip of Faraway Lands, child. If you and your friends delay the destruction of the Veil a while longer, so much the better, as it gives us more time to prepare... But neither shall you interfere with our Salvation."
Another psychokinesis-induced headache crashed into her and everything was gone.
She wasn't surprised to find herself back aboard the velvet ship once more. She'd rather wanted to be there, in fact.
There were much more dangerous places to be.
"I see that the truth of humanity's hidden past has been revealed to you", Igor observed not unkindly from his usual spot at the table, waiting for her to stand.
While she already knew beyond doubt that this space had nothing to do with the physical world, Aiko still felt like she'd been kicked in the gut, settling down into the other seat with a lack of energy felt all the way down to her bones.
"It's true, then? Sumaru city once existed?"
"Long ago", he agreed, his grin never budging. "All prior efforts to undo the eternal scars of that conflict proved fruitless, and so my master sought to heal humanity's wounded psyche through a different method. Through his own departure, taking the city along with him and deleting both from humanity's consciousness."
"Leaving you behind to clean up his mess", she remarked irritably, though she knew the anger was more directed at the as-yet unseen Philemon.
Igor chuckled heartily, the steeple of his spidery hands growing taller still.
"Ah, but it is a duty which I greatly cherish, Dream Voyager. How can I not, when witnessing such wondrous players of the game? Each of our guests since then has surpassed my expectations in so many wonderfully remarkable ways. There was the Savior, who willingly surrendered his soul to preserve all that exists. The Seeker of Truth, whose insight pierced the fog which swallows reasoning. The Trickster, who found his way through an unjust game to true freedom even without my guidance; quite the opposite, in fact. Then..."
"Then there's me", she said gloomily, eyes lowered to the table's inoffensive grain. "The Voyager of Dreams. Some champion. I made a huge mistake, trying to check that place out on my own."
"Perhaps", Igor acknowledged quietly. "But such a defeat can also serve as a learning experience. Thanks to your bonds with your allies, I do not believe it will be a permanent one."
"That's about all I can hope for now", she admitted shakily before looking back up. While the hunchbacked man looked as cryptic and creepy as ever, she thought she could sense a degree of anticipation behind his demented rictus.
"I'm not going to bother asking you", she determined. "You're the veteran here. Senior to any human or God. You'd know best how to save everyone's souls, Mr. Igor."
"Ah, some wisdom at last", a more emotional voice reached them from the far stairs. Bartholomew stood, a book clutched in one hand and an expression of sour disdain on his eye patched face. "I was beginning to wonder if you had any at all within you, or you were nothing more than a hollow shell of flesh."
"I know", she conceded, fighting not to tear up again. "I know. I'm sorry. I got too reckless. I was mad because Nijima-san tried to stop us and took away our weapons. I should have listened to her and Mira-chan."
Unsatisfied with her contrition, Bartholomew dumped the dark tome onto the table with an impact that jolted even Igor. "I was busy searching for the book on advanced Persona fusions when I heard what you had done. You're still welcome to the book... If you still have the wits to use the rituals in it."
"Enough", Igor called, a hint of irritation in his voice for the first time she could recall.
"Our guest has repeatedly acknowledged her own failures, and I am confident that they will serve as catalyst for the further growth of her noble spirit. None of our guests, whatever their talents, were ever completely free of errors in their judgment, and her mission, however ill-advised it was, has revealed much information about a dangerous enemy."
"The Karma club", Bart observed, his fury swiftly redirected. "The Masked Circle. Foolish humans who think they know better than any other. Allowing mere visions to lead-"
"How rude."
The words sounded like they were right there in her ear before blasting out across the rest of the room, halting Bartholomew's speech and freezing his stare directly ahead. Igor's smile remained unperturbed, but Aiko felt a pang of fear even before recognizing the the voice and turning to face it.
Lady Scorpio's frozen mask floated beside her there at head height, but without any sign of a head or body to support it.
"The Velvet Room", the mirrored mask commented without any sign of movement. "So this is where the magic happens. How quaint."
Equally still, Aiko slid an eye towards the stunned assistant. "How...?"
"It is a mental link", Igor explained patiently, moving his head up to cast bloodshot eyes on the mask as if he was only doing so under duress. "It would seem this enemy still seeks to bring you over to their side."
Bartholomew was the exact opposite of his master's calm, immediately moving between the card-laden table and the floating mask in a wide-armed defensive posture. "She is not the first to successfully invade the Velvet room. But she neither is she a God."
"The assistant is right, of course", Scorpio acknowledged. "I am but a human, 'blessed' with a powerful Persona." Bitter sarcasm staining her words, she turned to Igor's table. "Yet, what were your vaunted champions but that, Servant? And did they not slay Gods?"
Bartholomew suggested something anatomically improbable to her, his single yellow eye stretched into a feral slit.
As usual, Igor seemed less emotional, merely staring back into Scorpio's mask with a faint hope. "We do not doubt your capabilities, O lost maiden. The true paradox lies in your reasoning."
"You know my reasoning, Servant", she snapped back. "So does this young one now. If fate is kind, then she will come to understand the truth. Perhaps she, not I, shall be the one to destroy you."
Rising up livid, Bartholomew shook his head and gestured with one open palm towards her. "Alright, enough of this."
The floating mask wavered, rippling as if an image cast by a dying projector before fading. Only when it was completely gone and leaving nothing behind but a mocking feminine laugh did Aiko breathe properly again.
Bartholomew didn't look pleased though. "The link remains", he pointed out as though it were an accusation. "I can banish her from this room as many times as I must, but not from your own mind. That will be left up to you."
He stopped himself then, realizing what he'd said. Igor lowered his head, eyes peeking up past his beak of a nose to regard their guest. "My most belligerent assistant is merely concerned for you, Dream Voyager. Some threats must be avoided until the time is right to conquer them."
"You don't set course into the eye of a hurricane", Aiko agreed, bowing regretfully. "Now that we know what it is. Please Mr. Igor, forgive my recklessness. I never meant to bring her in here."
"Ha ha... That is one of your more endearing traits", he told her, grin spreading wide across his hollow cheeks now that their intruder was temporarily banished. "Hold onto it. Refine and master it until it can be donned at will like any of your masks. There remains a certain strength in recklessness, particularly to those who observe it in another. Those who fear nothing from the common warrior still evade the ire of the berserker."
She winced. Thanks to her history classes with grouchy Mr. Noriyama, the word 'berserker' conjured up the image of big sweaty muscle men dressed all in hides, who drank mead until they could ignore everything else around them, even their own injuries, and focus entirely on killing their enemy.
It certainly wasn't the kind of image she wanted to project to her friends, but looking back at some of her previous battles there was no denying that there had been times when she had lost herself to the fight, to the point where she would sometimes feel an acute pang of disappointment when it was finished.
That feeling was something she had privately hoped that Mirambela would never find out about, but there was no hiding anything from these two. Mixing murderous intent for your enemies, and unrestrained love for your allies. A dangerous balancing act, as they are the two opposing sides of a woman's passion.
Anne Bonny had told her that, having lived that life from beginning to its bloody end. That first Persona wasn't currently with her, having been part of the fusion that created the powerful Tam Lin... But they would always share many things in mind and heart, just as Mira shared much with Oya, and Pelagio with Galahad. Rosea-kun and Wild Bill... We'll see. Or, will we?
"Your journey is far from over", Bartholomew remarked. "While the Tricksters of the past endeavor to seal away the danger of Faraway Lands, they contend with a powerful enemy whose knowledge exceeds their own."
She nodded. "Right. That Cleopatra Persona... It was the most powerful one I've ever seen. Even with Tam Lin and Lorelei, I never had a chance against her. It was just like that time with Rosea-kun's Shadow. And Taurus is probably strong too."
"Personas grow and change with the soul of their user", Bart explained, referring back to the book he had brought. "This book contains many powerful Personas that are formed from the sacrifice of three or more others. In your current state, you lack the mental power to use most of them. However." Breaking off, he gave a wistful smile complimenting the rest of his handsome face.
"Perhaps there may be one or two in here that will prove useful to you in the trying times to come..."
6/8 Saturday
Morning
Aiko's eyes ached enough that there was real temptation to just keep them closed. Everything else already ached, but that part was spared until she opened them.
Then she remembered what happened and they shot open, ignoring the pain shooting through optic nerves causing her to pant. Or at least something was...
Perhaps it was the sky overhead, painfully bright after a seeming eternity of rain, that stung them. Sensation finally returning, she felt the sand of the Tosashimizu shores and the sound of distant speech.
Jiachi's round head and brown sugar hair popped into her view, brief amusement on it failing to hide severe worry lines running across his face.
"Huh. Looks like that nurse lady knew what she was talkin' about after all. I was just about to bust out the medicine."
Another, more familiar voice reached her an instant before the white falcon glided past overhead. "You would do no such thing, boy! The nurse was very clear that an overdose of that could cause harm to the captain."
"Shit, you heard that?" Realizing that they were both getting distracted, he returned attention to their 'patient', waving an arm before her dazed eyes. "Hoy there, Tsuruga-chan. Rise and shine. Wake up and smell the sea salt, or whatevs."
Knowing without needing to try that it was too early to stand, she settled for moving arms out to support her sitting. "You... brought me to the shore?"
Julian immediately showed a guilt that accentuated the bags under his eyes. "Uh. Not right away. Tried the hospital first, told 'em that you had a hit 'n run. They checked you out last night, said all you needed was time and fresh air."
How long had she been dreaming? There was the velvet room, then Lady Scorpio...
"Karma club", she exhaled, the panic she'd taken with her into unconsciousness suddenly revived. "Masked circle. What happened?"
Jiachi sighed, more readily offering her a damp washcloth than answers. Pelagio seemed less so, perching directly beside her prone body without concern for who might see a falcon getting close enough to her to bite.
"We don't yet have all the details, captain. I... That is to say, we tried to follow you into the basement when the door locked behind you."
"Your cell phone", Julian offered her, gently handing over the device as if concerned it or she might break. "It lost the connection. We heard everything that happened just fine until that lady said you would be having a 'test'."
A test. Yes, that was what had happened. There had been the mirror room, which led her further into a dark, unused gallery where the black box had waited for her.
Without even realizing, her hand was moving down to her waist. "My sword..."
"Gone", Jiachi confirmed apologetically. "Sorry. I didn't see it, and I didn't have time to look."
"There is no other way to put it, captain", Pelagio noted with equal contrition. "We... panicked. We hadn't expected to lose the phone connection so abruptly. The boy was unable to break the door down, and so I searched the exterior of the club for a window I could successfully break."
"I have a name, y'know", Jiachi remarked stiffly. "But yeah, feather bag managed to find the fire alarm in there. In the confusion, I snuck in there and got you out. You were out cold in the dressing room when I found you."
Dressing room... the cracked mirror... yes, that's right. And Lady Scorpio...
Her smashed into the sand in fury. "Damn it!"
"Easy now", Jiachi warned her. "Easy. The nurse said that you needed a lot of rest. Stressing out like that is prolly bad too. I knew you liked the beach, and I couldn't exactly bring you into either of the dorms, so... here we are."
His clarification made her realize that perhaps the mission hadn't been the complete disaster it had seemed at first. I learned a lot last night. Learned about their plans, and how they're managing to use Shadows and Personas.
If you forgot the extensive beating that she had taken and everything else that Lady Scorpio had done to her, it would have been perfect.
She felt herself turning to face Pelagio and then stop. This was too much to dump on them all at once. Not without... "Where... Where is Mira-chan?"
Pelagio's wings created a wide shrugging motion. "She... has gone to her classes. We made it clear that you were unwell, and unable to go to school today."
Something in his stance give her the feeling that there was more to it than that. "Is she... okay?"
She couldn't continue on until she got this answer. The recent brush with danger had only heightened that sense, she found. She could handle a beating as she had before and maybe work around whatever Scorpio had done.
But if Mira had been hurt because of this fiasco, then she didn't want to go back to the dorm. She would stay here forever and hope to drown.
Finally, Julian cracked. His eyes studied her expression closely, trying to decide exactly how to explain it. "She... uh. She got really mad when she saw the state that you were in. Mad at us, really. Blamed us for it. For encouraging you, I mean."
The balm of relief washing through her head drowned out his next few words.
It's okay. It's okay. I got hurt, but that's fine. It's fine. Whatever. Doesn't matter. Mira's okay. Julian's okay. Pelagio's okay.
Everything's fine.
The sound of footsteps in the sand interrupted her reverie, belonging to a tall figure that looked imposing backlit against the morning sun until she recognized his face. "Captain", she acknowledged happily. "Sorry, but I don't think I'm fit for any practice today."
Removing the curved smoking pipe from his mouth for once, Byzael made a show of looking her over as she struggled between the sores and the deep-seated need to not be weak in front of him.
"You don't look fit for much of anything right now", he observed finally. "What happened t'ya, girl? Hit by a wave?"
"Try a car", Julian corrected him a bit too fast. "Nothing broken, but..."
As she'd expected, bitter anger flashed through the captain's long face and through the rest of his frame as well before being forced back down and rejected. Sensing Jiachi's worry, he turned a welcoming smile on him next. "S'pose you're the one who did that for her? I'm in your debt, lad."
"R-Rosea", Julian managed. Despite the pain, Aiko could only smile at the way the normally tough-talking Julian was just as nervous around Byzael as she had been at first. Very buff even for a fisherman, the captain of the Fiddler's Green was certainly an imposing sight until you got to know him. "Jiachi Rosea. Or, uh, Julian Rosea, whichever one you, uh, like 'cause, y'know, I..."
"Mr. Rosea", the captain decided, shaking the younger man's hand in a firm grip that took his breath away. "I'd offer you some of my port, but you look too young. A shame. You'll have to come back in a few years so I can thank you properly."
Finally relaxing, Julian nodded. "Um. That'd be nice. So this is the fish dude you told me about, Tsuruga-chan? The one who's giving you his boat?"
Smirking, Byzael gestured to the elegant curved shape of the Fiddler's Green, which bore signs of recent and repeated use in the waters south of Japan. "I wouldn't say 'giving it away'. Not until she's proven that she's ready for it."
Unable to endure it any longer, Aiko forced herself to ignore the aches and stand up properly, eyes beaming respect into his. "Yes. He's captain Byzael."
Pelagio, of course, had flown off into the distance without another word to anyone. He didn't like Byzael, and she was grateful that Jiachi didn't feel the same way about him. He was embarrassing her enough as it was.
"I've been busy", he acknowledged politely. "Looks like you've been busy too. I'll be taking a break back here for a while if you're up for it later."
"Thank you, captain", she bowed back. "That would be wond-"
Memories, recent ones blurred by injury, flared back to life and she found herself sputtering meaningless noises.
Damn. Not the time for this now.
But it might be the only time. Sooner the better. Can't hold back. Not now.
Not when she'd been so quick to dismiss Mira's opinions before.
"Captain", she started over quickly so as not to alarm them. "I'm sorry, but I need to know. This big haul that you were offered. The one that all the fisherman here got... what exactly was it?"
Byzael naturally looked surprised that she would know anything about the 'haul' beyond what he had told her and spent a moment searching for a trick. When none came, he shrugged. "Heh. That's the weird part, isn't it? They asked us to deliver our hauls to a wharf on the west end of the city... and then they don't care how many per haul."
Each deduction was a frozen crystal shard in her mind, impaling her with frigid cold as it slowly formed into a larger picture. Because they never wanted the fish at all. That's just to conceal what they're really after.
They wanted the water. The water that has begun to mutate sea flowers. The water that can transform Pelagio into a boat, or a tower.
The water of Faraway Lands.
"What's wrong?"
Realizing she must have truly frozen up, she jerked awake. "Captain... If I can ask you a huge favor?"
"Name it", Byzael scoffed, expecting some kind of joke.
She craned her neck up to hold his gaze, wishing now more than ever that she were as tall as Mirambela. "Please stop delivering hauls to that wharf. I can't tell you the reason why, just that the people paying for that aren't what you think. And, if you can, ask the other fishermen to stop as well."
Replacing his pipe with one hand, the captain palmed his bristly chin with the other in thought. "Hm. Guess I should've known better. The money was too good to refuse, and you know what they say about those kinds of offers."
"Will you?", she asked, a plea in her eyes. "Pretty please? For me?"
Byzael stared back unflinching. Now, more than ever, she had begun to realize that whatever affection she felt for this man who had offered to help her reach her dream was mutual. She couldn't explain it. There was just something about him that made her want to be strong, to earn his approval.
And now, that honest effort to earn his trust and respect would not go to waste.
"Alright", he agreed. "For you, Tsuruga, I'll do it. I'll tell the other guys too, though I can't guarantee they'll stop."
"That's fine", she breathed out. It was enough to know that Byzael wouldn't be unknowingly helping their enemy, to know that request wouldn't damage their friendship. "All that I could ask for from you, and more. Thank you so much, captain. I'll be back here again for training when I'm feeling better."
"Take your time", he waved. "No slacking off next time we see each other, got it?"
Laughing, she gave back a mock salute. "No, sir!"
Jiachi waited until he was far gone before turning to her. "Oooo-kay, mind telling us what that was all about?"
"Later", she promised. "Right now, I've got to go apologize to Mira-chan."
"She's still in class", he reminded her. "It'd be weird if you went in now after you called in sick. I'd say just wait back at the dorm if you don't have anything else to do."
There were things to do, but aside from the brief spike she'd gotten when Byzael showed up, Aiko no longer had the energy to care. "Yeah... a day off doesn't sound so bad, really. Wait... you took it off too, didn't you?"
He grimaced back. "Yep. Not like I'm missing anything too major. Saturday's just the day when we turn in the week's assignments, and I already gave mine to Rurichiyo to turn in."
"Oh, really? Even though Rurichiyo-senpai is a third-year and you're a second?"
His face paled. "Crap! I, uh... geez... if, uh, you're okay with walking, I gotta go get this straightened out!"
Just the act of watching him run cheered her a bit. Nice to know that this mission didn't change him much at all. He's not blaming himself. Good.
And why should he? She was the leader of the team, not him. The mission had been her decision to make.
The dorm was, as expected, empty. Even the supervisor, Ms. Ekuya, was out for the day dealing with her other duties, but she varied her schedule enough that no one would dare try to take advantage of it.
In this case, it almost felt like luxury, having such a room to herself, able to prepare lunch without any distractions and bring it up to her room to eat. Or even eat in the lounge area if she'd wanted.
Another luxury- watching TV while eating on her bed wasn't something she would normally do, but as Julian and Pelagio had so helpfully pointed out, today was special.
Today, she could forget about all that for moment and just lie back and rest. That was the plan for today, and until she saw what was on the local news she had been looking forward to it.
OFFICER THROWN FROM BALCONY HOSPITALIZED
Five words were all it took to dash that sedentary vision into turmoil and ruin.
Thrown from balcony. Hospitalized. Officer Makoto Nijima.
She didn't hear the commentary over the rushing noise in her ears, seemingly the only part left with sensation in it. An odd, distracted peace had settled on her now, a sense that maybe this was all staged. That maybe there was another person named Makoto Nijima on the police force.
Maybe she hadn't just made the kind of mistake that hung around you every waking moment, eating away whenever you gave it an opening, trying to get to the vital core and feast until there was nothing left but a guilt-wracked comatose shell.
"Nijima..."
She didn't recall falling from the bed. The TV image that had suddenly subsumed her entire world flickered off at an angle until she was looking up off the carpet her head was nuzzled against at it, no longer able to fully make out the details of the talking heads dominating the screen.
"Nijima...!"
Byzael, she knew, would be waiting a while before she was back and ready to train. Maybe not for a week.
Maybe forever.
"Nijima-san... No, no, no...!"
6/8 Saturday
Afternoon
Unfamiliar with the exact structure of the Tosashimizu general hospital and how it affected air currents, Pelagio made a slow, cautious glide up to the highest antenna on the gravel-covered roof.
From this perch, he could see the entire area surrounding the building including a small river. More importantly, he could see the hundreds of humans milling around, each one intent on their own desires or duties.
What he couldn't see was an open window with Makoto Nijima inside of it.
This was a new phenomenon for him, something Shadows and cognitions had never demonstrated. Somehow, whenever a human was injured, then those who were close to that human would become withdrawn and moody, sometimes lacking the energy to perform the tasks they would normally carry out day to day.
The only thing he could think of to compare it with was forcing himself to imagine the unthinkable- if Aiko had been injured in a similar way.
My first impulse would be to go after the people responsible, to avenge her, he decided easily. However, we haven't yet confirmed who was responsible for this. We only have suspicions.
Suspicions might be enough, in that imaginary case.
And this, he considered further, wasn't so far off from that. By injuring Nijima, someone had hurt his captain in a way that shed no blood, but was somehow far more traumatizing, and the perpetrators were nowhere within his sight. There was no one to take vengeance or Makoto Nijima on.
He felt as though he might explode from the frustration. His fury emerged from his throat only as a falcon's feral screeches, a clarion echoing across the city before fading into memory.
Instead, he tried to drain off his energy by swooping around the area, hearing random snatches of conversation from humans below, none of it related to his internal strife. Banking away from the shopping district and the mall it surrounded, he caught sight of the crime scene- the back of Makoto's condo and the parking lot.
The police had already set up their investigation, several people in uniforms examining the rear door and balcony, as well as whatever signs of a struggle lay inside the room itself. More striking was the single car still remaining in the lot- an expensive-looking blue convertible which now bore the marks of a collision from above, though he was relieved to see no broken glass there.
As opposed to the glass of the rear door, which looked like it had exploded outward from within the building. Though most of the shards had been cleaned up already, more still littered the concrete outside. One young-looking officer stared up at him, confused for a moment before shrugging and continuing with his survey of the lot.
Who could have done this? What could have possibly propelled that poor woman into the glass door with enough power to not only break it, but propel her through it and out over the balcony railing?
Knowing that the few humans who could understand his words were elsewhere, he felt comfortable speaking his mind, knowing that the humans would only hear noise.
"Makoto Nijima... We shall avenge you, no matter what it takes. So vows sir Pelagio."
Then, there was a reply.
"Ooh! I love the way this town smells! Smells like... Sushi! I love it!"
Pelagio blinked. The voice sounded like a child's, too young even to give obvious hints of gender, but strikingly loud enough to be heard from the other side of the building. Taking flight and wheeling around, he scanned the street for the source and found nothing.
Then he heard it again.
"I see... so this is where the attack happened. Poor Nijima-san... We'll find out who did this, no matter what! We can't just ignore an attack on a fellow Phantom Thief!"
Pelagio stared down from his perch, for a moment wondering if the stress had gotten to him as it had the humans.
Because he could have sworn that the words were emerging from the mouth of a small cat on the sidewalk next to the condo. Black fur, with curious blue eyes studying the crime scene with a focus no normal cat possessed.
Then, as he stared in shock, those blue eyes rose up to spot him and turned from curiosity to irritation.
"Yeah. I wonder if you saw anything that night? Man... not like that would help us. It's just a dumb bird."
Nearly motionless, he regarded the cat with a predator's gaze. "Hmph! Excuse me, but I am not a dumb bird."
He'd never known that a cat's eyes could get that large. Or that they could run under a bench that fast.
"What the... hey! What the hell?!"
Faintly amused now, as that was preferable to the sensation of confusion from before, he spread his wings to follow. "That is indeed the question at hand, yes? For example, why is a stray cat capable of speaking as humans do, as well as understanding me?"
The cat had found a cover beneath a set of wooden stairs, but hiding wasn't in its nature, and it emerged in pose of indignant anger. "H-hey! Shut up! I'm not a stray! I am Morgana!"
"Morgana", Pelagio repeated, letting his talons flash dangerously in the afternoon light. "Yet, that doesn't answer my question. So I will. Could it be, perhaps, that this mysterious talking cat is surveying the acts of her masters, to confirm a job well done?"
"What?!", Morgana hissed. "Make sense! And you're one to talk! You're a freaking bird!"
At another time, he might have found this impudence amusing. But today was not a good day for patience.
His wings stretched wide, ready to swoop down and strike. To avenge Nijima.
"I am sir Pelagio, miss Morgana. And you will be answering my questions about your masters. Assuming that is, that you wish that mangy coat of fur to remain intact!"
Morgana's eyes stretched wide again. "Oh, crud...!"
Tosashimizu general hospital looked exactly the way Noel had described it. A lobby composed of blank white tile and drywall harboring two clusters of black plastic chairs far apart that the occupants would be unable to hear each other easily, large transparencies lining the walls too large to be called windows showing little inside but a desk and shelf.
In short, the place felt like a mortuary, and the fact that the doctors weren't letting her see Makoto at all only reinforced the feeling.
A feeling she welcomed, because it was still preferable to feeling nothing at all.
Preferable to stay here among the sounds of hospital equipment and staff talking in hushed voices than wander outside and have absolutely no idea what to do.
'Crybaby Ai' wasn't gone. She never had been. It felt like she was swimming around beneath a thin skein of restraint, waiting to burst out again at the slightest provocation.
When Mirambela walked in, Aiko stood up to meet her eyes, ready to accept whatever deserved judgment might come to her. Her roommate had spent the last day and a half steadfastly avoiding her, eating dinner out and only heading back to their room after the other had cried herself to sleep.
But now, it felt like none of that had even happened. Aiko felt long arms gripping her, felt hot tears stinging that were not her own.
"It's all my fault", she blurted as soon as they were able to find a pair of seats together. "My fault. I did the mission, even though you and Nijima knew better. They were waiting for us. They..."
"None of that, please", Mira hushed her. The distracting sense of position reversal remained a welcome one, as did the warm sensation of the arms bracing her. She was too tired to resist, to protest. "Yes, I think you made a big mistake, listening to Rosea-kun. But you can't blame yourself for this, Ai-chan."
When the deep weariness in her friend's eyes suggested otherwise, Mira withdrew her arms, taking a more predictably stern approach. "Think about it. You went to the Karma club. They- at least I assume it was them- went after Nijima-san on the same night you chose to do that."
Turning to the side as if able to sense their injured friend through the unyielding walls, she shook her head. "So. How exactly is that your fault? The only person who deserves the blame... Is whoever did that to Nijima-san."
The ringing truth of her words- the truth she'd neglected to embrace feeling it would be a dodge of responsibility- brought Aiko's head back up.
"I know. I know that. I just feel so guilty because... I didn't tell her what we were doing. Maybe, if I had..."
"Then she would be safe?", Mira asked. "You think she would run and hide on the slight chance that they might get hostile? Where exactly would that be? For all we know, they might have a way of tracking people down."
Something else she hadn't considered, and made all the more alarming coupled with what else she knew about the Masked Circle now. "I was stupid and careless."
Mulling over the words, Mira didn't respond until Ai repeated herself again. "Stupid and careless!"
"Yep", she agreed lightly, as if the observation was about the color of someone's clothing. "You're probably wondering why I haven't yelled at you yet about that. The truth is, I already spent all my anger earlier on Rosea-kun and Pelagio, and... Seeing you like this, I could tell that you were already punishing yourself more than I ever could."
More pensive now, she turned back, eyes focused through the last of her tears. "That's always it, isn't it? You always do that. You went in alone. You're totally fine with taking pain for yourself, even if you might die. But you can't stand seeing someone else hurt. That was why..."
Why I stepped in to help you in the first week of school? Probably.
"My pain... Doesn't matter", she claimed, trying to force enough energy into her words to make it seem true. "It goes away after a while. It's nothing, really. It doesn't matter."
Mira's reply was a grunt of exasperation. "Jamani. It does matter. It matters, because I feel the same way when you get hurt. Or when Rosea or Pelagio gets hurt. Or..."
With the way her voice trailed off, Ai assumed it was because there was no need to bring up Makoto's name and dig into open wounds, but then she felt the nearby presence of another and turned.
The man facing them brought a clean-shaven adult Shukiji to mind at first, with paler skin and glasses contrasting with a mop of frizzy raven hair. Yet peering closer, it was easy to notice the more subtle differences.
Even in this solemn environment, she could sense a lightness in his soul tempered by past hardships, which like Julian, allowed him to joke even in the worst of situations, during the times when it was most needed.
"I didn't mean to intrude", the man said. "You two were making a bit of a scene there. Auditioning for a soap drama, are we?"
Her uncontrollable laugh piercing a veil of tears, Aiko nodded in gratitude. "Something like that, yes. Our friend is... well, she's hurt. Badly. She's here in the emergency room now. The doctors say that she's going to live, but..."
Satisfied that he'd dispelled the guilt that had been eating her alive for the past few hours, the young man took on a more reserved expression. "Yeah. Me too. That's why I came."
She stared back at him in amazement, the pieces gradually clicking together. Even Tosashimizu General hospital wasn't big enough to accept so many new patients at once for it to be a coincidence.
"Makoto Nijima?"
The pale man snickered, his lips forming a strange mischievous smile for someone his age. "Huh. I wish. No, my name's Akira Kurusu. It's nice to finally meet you."
Persona Profile #4: Jack Frost
Arcana: Magician
Strength: Ice
Weakness: Fire
Abilities: Bufu, Mabufu, Patra, Lucky Punch
Background: A spirit originating from England. A snow elf who brings in cold weather during the winter and is thought to be responsible for the frost that forms on the windows of homes and buildings. Though seemingly innocent, it also freezes those it dislikes to death.