Chapter Fifteen: Wayward Strides
It did not take long for Akira and company to start thinking the worst as they followed on the shrouded stranger's trail. It would certainly be troublesome if he ran, taking advantage of his apparent knowledge of the land to elude them. They were convinced that, If he so desired, he could easily lose them in the undergrowth. The ground proved treacherous even in the plain - pockmarked with tiny valleys and hidden peaks, more than a test to the sturdiest of soles. To make matters worse, in this dark, unknown hour, the stranger mingled too well with the shadows. They also did not get much rest atop the hill, and the exhaustion they heaped on the climb still clung to their joints. By all means, everything worked against them if the stranger chose to run.
But he did not. Even as this shrouded figure hung precariously on the edge of visibility, he made no effort to elude them, keeping only a meagre hundred metres between them. They knew what this looked and felt like: a trap. Nobody said anything; there was little need for it when the glances spoke clearly in their shared silence.
And yet, there was something about this stranger that casted doubt upon that judgement. Instead of deftly keeping a swift but steady pace to keep them in tow, he walked slowly and clumsily. Akira found it similar to the intoxicated ambling of a few select regulars from Crossroads back in Shinjuku. Yet even when they hurried up to catch up, this slow pace seemed to suffice for him. This made no sense, but there was no room for such talk at this point.
There was no telling what his intentions were. Akira had an acute sense for judging character. More often than not, he could tell when he could trust another and when suspicion was a sound precaution. But now, he could sense neither good instincts nor ill will. It felt to him, if only for a moment, as if the mysterious individual was not a person at all.
A non-presence.
Every ten steps, Akira cast a quick glance behind while Morgana kept unblinking contact on the unknown figure. Not only was he ensuring his friends were all following, he also watched the distance between the closest, Yusuke, and he. They had no time to test their theory, but if Akira had access to his Joker alter-ego, he could likely also summon a Persona should they need to defend themselves against a threat. At the very back of the group, their lieutenant Makoto had her eyes alternating between the front and the back with equal caution. There was no telling if a potential predator could suddenly be on their heels.
The eight trekked this way for what felt like an hour. And much was different then. They were all tired to the point of dragging their feet across the undergrowth, trying not to stumble and fall over the slightest variation in the terrain. The wear and tear even got to Akira, whom could only halfway disguise it under the mask. The concern Akira and Makoto discussed earlier proved a reality, as hunger weakened all, caving a hole that needed be filled soon. Thirst and the dehydration that would surely follow was yet another problem. By now, several wondered if it truly was worth it to follow this individual. For all they knew, he could be driving them in circles, draining them of stamina, rendering them an easy prey.
Suddenly, Akira stopped. Yusuke was caught unaware, and his thin frame bumped brusquely against Akira's back. He, in turned was sandwiched between Akira and Haru behind him, then Futaba, then Ann, and finally Ryuji. Makoto caught enough of the situation ahead to stop in time and scratch her head in the confusion.
"Is something wrong?" She called out the front.
"He's gone." Akira responded.
"What?" The young woman could hardly believe her ears.
"He just vanished." He did not bother to hide his exasperation. Secretly he wondered if his eyes were fooling him and his decision to stop was a ruinous call.
"Akira's right." Morgana joined. "He disappeared, in the blink of an eye."
"Are you saying you blinked, cat!?" Ryuji was not amused.
"It's a manner of expression!" Morgana.
"Save it you two." Makoto sounded stern. She rushed ahead to join Akira at the vanguard. He turned to look at her, looking rather flustered.
"Makoto…"
"Akira." She pulled him aside, far from their friends' ears. She whispered for good measure. "I know we're not here by choice. And nobody blames you. But we need to do something about sustenance." Her voice broke at the last word, giving away how drained she felt.
"You're right. We need to do something about food and water. I don't think we can go on for much longer like this." He brought thumb and index finger to his chin as he thought. The only theoretically edible things in sight were grass, and the moss and fungi that clung to the trees – none of which were viable choices. Just as before, there was no sign of animal life aside from them. No source of water either.
"Any ideas?" Makoto's eyes looked clouded.
"I think I do. Gather the rest." He raised his mask to rub his eyes.
While his girlfriend motioned the others to join Akira, he took a few deep breaths and began to concentrate.
"What are you doing?" Morgana asked.
"Something I should have tried far earlier." He answered with distinct self-reproach. "Alright. All of you, bunch up together. Yeah, like that."
Another deep breath. He relaxed his core, from his abdominal region to the every end of each limb. Eyes closed, he dove into the ocean of his mind, swimming through waves of memories, in search for one image. He had a latent hope that this place operated by the same rules as their side and the Metaverse, that cognition could be shaped by a sufficiently powerful will. But with each hope, there also was the looming of despair to fall upon him in the face of failure. He tried to keep both possibilities, good and bad, out of his head – they were unnecessary distractions, averting focus from his effort.
Akira dove deeper even. The waters he explored were thick and murky, like a swamp leagues wide, unfathomably deep; but that would not deter him. He searched for a figure to embody his intention. Nurture, heal, preserve. All verbs he easily associated with Makoto. This was a good start. Now he tried to link the thought of her to a memory, or several, however many he needed to find the colour and the shape.
Another deep breath. Outside, his friends looked both concerned and expectant. Makoto guessed at what he was trying to do. She wondered if holding his hand would help him, but she relented, opting to let him concentrate.
He liked her from the first moment he saw her. Only his fifth day in Shujin, and suddenly her face became engraved in his thoughts, appearing uninvited at any moment. She was at the library, eyes fixed on her notes, occasionally wandering off to the pile of books she set at the circular table. Whereas nearly everybody else would murmur false, terrible things about him, she offered him shelter in her silence, in her indifference. That was the charm she gave him unknowingly – what allowed him to stay focused while studying, while trying to be what he was supposed to be. At the end of the session, he stood up, hopeful to see her on his way out, only to find her gone.
Akira did a lot of growing since. He was forced to mature faster than a boy his age was supposed to. When she finally noticed him in her efforts to unearth the truth about the Phantom Thieves of Hearts, his exterior was that of a discreet, calculating, somewhat aloof young man; but inside, her presence still captivated him. He knew he should be wary of her – she could be their undoing, a word from her could doom him for life. But against the expectations of a self-serving intent, she demanded for them to prove their justice. Her heart was in the right place, and soon, she had a place in his. And the day she joined them, when she awakened to her Persona, lived on inside of him ever since. It was such a powerful sight it dispelled the fear and anxiety of the unyielding 'what ifs', the many ways their lives could be destroyed.
Her awakening was borne out of repressed anger and a yearning to break free from her bindings. But beneath the intimidating first impression, Johanna represented her wish to defend and protect those she cared for and the ideal for which she lived. Whenever the cool, devious Joker was close to bending, this iron-clad maiden was there to unleash pain upon the adversaries, to guide where he could not see, and to heal their team when the enemy rained hell on them.
Heal.
She trusted him to show her the things that she missed out on, to house her grief on the loss of her father, to join her as she looked out for a friend another person would have given up on. She trusted him to lead the team to victory. She trusted him to understand that she looked at him with a different kind of regard as the others, that in her inexperience she wished to learn alongside him. She trusted him her thoughts, her fears, her calling, her fascinations, her intimacy. Her heart, for him to keep and protect.
Protect.
And there it was, when the dark waters in his mind made the world around him black. First a tiny, azure light shimmering in the gloom. A spark travelling in the mental composition of his surroundings, bonding one molecule to another, until the whole ocean was made of light and the familiar burn embraced the skin on his face. His muscles tensed painfully, and the air rushed into his lungs, as he roared into the perennial dusk.
"CYBELE!"
The air exploded into bright blue light, scattering embers and ash on the soil. From the ethereal burst, a nude woman with violet and white skin rose high with an aura of dignity and dominance. Hair and horns of ebony against the ivory sabres in her hands, this was Cybele, the protector of cities, nature, and all that inhabited within. The image of the Goddess gazed upon Akira and company. Her eyes rested on Makoto, as if knowing she was bonded with the purpose that gave the Goddess form in this place. Cybele closed her eyes and inhaled the air around her, and when she opened them, she exhaled a shimmering cloud that bathed all eight.
The pain under their feet, their hunger and thirst, their exhaustion, and their dread – all gone. Cybele vanished slowly, gracing them with a smirk of satisfaction.
"Whoa." Ryuji blinked several times, as if in disbelief. "Dude, that was amazing."
"Amazing. Yeah…" Ann trailed off. "Speaking of, I feel kind of amazing."
"Did you just revitalise us?" Haru titled her head.
"He literally healed us and cured our aliments!" Futaba jumped.
"I don't understand why you are surprised. He has done this many times before." Yusuke spoke as per his usual demeanour. "That said. Thank you, Akira."
"Hey, I've also done this many times! Where's my parade?" Morgana protested.
"Come now." Makoto crouched next to the feline, scratching affectionately under his chin. "Thank you for all the times you've done this in the past. And Akira…" She began, only to be cut by her boyfriend doing a hushing gesture, behind which she saw a smile and a slightly flirty look in his eyes.
Or she thought it was flirty, for a brief moment. That changed when his right eye twitched closed and the strength vacated his knees. By the time Makoto could react, Akira was nearly on the ground. Fear rose in her throat, that she was about to witness something like what Yusuke saw the day before. Yet Akira managed to break his fall with his hands.
Makoto, Ryuji, Morgana, Ann, Futaba, Yusuke, and Haru. They were all on him, worried speechless. He raised a hand in reassuring manner while he panted loudly, trying to catch a breath that had suddenly escaped him.
"Akira!" Makoto exclaimed, a bit louder than she meant to.
"I'm okay." His voice sounded wearier than before, despite him being also showered in Cybele's spell. "It's just been a while."
"No wonder, though. Wasn't that a really powerful Persona?" Ann asked.
"The most powerful I could think of to help us." His spoke in intervals while he caught his breath, "I mean it. I'm okay. Just give me a few minutes and I'll be up like nothing happened."
"Sure, if you say so." Ann did not sound convinced.
Makoto said nothing. She looked on sadly as she sat next to him, noticing how he avoided her eyes.
"Thank you for what you just did. You really did save us. But… you are blaming yourself, aren't you?"
He said nothing. All he could do was give in to an internal yearning. After all, it was the memory of her what helped him find Cybele; it only made sense that he would want to look at the person he loved. But he could also not suppress a tinge of annoyance at how easily she read him in the moment. True, he was blaming himself. Had things been alright about him, they would not be in this predicament. He felt the awareness of his latest deed in his friends' gratitude and regained vitality; he also felt in his body, more exhausted than before. But he knew this was only a temporary measure. There was still no way back. And by fruitlessly following the shrouded stranger, they estranged far away from their 'entry location', for lack of a better word.
They were lost, and it was all because of him.
"Don't." Makoto did not even wait for him to reply. "Just don't. You are guilty of nothing."
"But you said it yourself. I may be the reason we're here right now. You're not going back on what you said, are you?" He said bitterly, too quietly for anyone to hear but her.
She could not think of a word for a response. Akira's eyes opened wide at her expression. She looked hurt.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
"I wish I had never said that."
"It's a strong possibility, though."
"Who knows… Maybe I'm to blame. If I had been more aware, this wouldn't be happening." She still felt she was missing something important. The sensation was slowly becoming certainty. But her inability to cast light on the enigma only brought her frustration.
"This self-blame gig isn't fun at all." Akira tried to sprinkle some humour into his words, but they came out sour.
"I agree." Makoto smiled sadly. "Can we stop it?"
"Yeah. You're right. This won't get us anywhere. I'm stumped fine without it as it is."
"I guess you are. Tell me the truth, though. How are you feeling?"
"I'm just a little spent. I think it stands to reason." Akira sounded slightly more motivated. "It's been over a year from not summoning anything, and the first thing I do as soon as I can is call forth a powerful Mother-Earth Goddess. Really, I kinda brought this on myself."
"And you did it for us. So, cheer up." Makoto smiled as way of an example.
"Would be easier if you sat next to me." A familiar smirk.
"If we gotta, we gotta." She felt some of his demeanour rubbed off on her.
Without a sign of another presence in the area, the eight felt confident enough to rest for a while, or at least until Akira regained his strength to continue the search for a way back. By looking at the sky above, it was impossible to notice a change in the hour of the day or night. Time drew on unmarked, stripped from all meaning. It was more from habit than actual intent that Akira pulled his phone out to look at the time.
21:36 PM
He stared at the screen dumbfounded for a matter of seconds, which then regained their meaning. The realisation hit him like his own hand slapping his forehead. Figuring out whether he could summon a Persona in this state was not the only thing they should have done earlier.
"Guys. What time do you have on your phones?" He inquired with slight urgency.
"Umm, 9:36." Futaba started.
"Same." Ryuji followed.
"Yeah, that's the same I got." Then Ann.
"9:36." Makoto raised an eyebrow. She was nearing the same conclusion he came to."
"9:36… No, make that 9:37." Haru said.
"9:37, indeed." Yusuke confirmed.
"Is there something weird about the hour?" Morgana asked.
"Not at all. That's the thing. The clocks advance forward." Akira spoke distractedly.
"I do believe they are designed to function that way. A clock that would not advance would be unacceptable." Yusuke remarked, without the slightest sarcasm.
"Yeah, but what about it?" Ryuji asked.
"In the Metaverse, and in Mementos, our phones didn't work properly, with the exception of one thing…" Akira commenced.
"… the Metaverse Navigator." Morgana perked his ears.
"The time on our phones was never synchronised, so Makoto came up with the idea that we could keep track of the time in the Metaverse by looking at an analogue watch. Something mechanical, something that could not be tampered with, except manually."
"I'm flattered that you remember that… but now that you say it, all our times are synchronised now." Makoto observed. "And we don't have the Metanav. That means… "
"We are not in the Metaverse. That much we already suspected, but this may also mean other functions on our phones may work properly." Akira's tone rose.
"Such as making actual calls…" Ann's eyes dilated.
"Holy...!" Ryuji resisted the temptation to hop up.
All eight exchanged looks.
"WHY DIDN'T WE THINK OF THIS BEFORE?" Ryuji yelled as he clutched his head with his hands.
"We can slap our foreheads later. For now, let's give this a try." Morgana walked towards where Akira and Makoto were sitting.
"Who are you gonna call?" Makoto asked her boyfriend.
"I don't think we should call Boss or Sae-san. That would only worry them." Haru noted.
"That's true." Ann said, then shuddering at the thought of Boss and Sae worried over their sudden disappearance. One at a time was enough.
"No, we need to call someone who would swear to secrecy. An ally. An NPC." Akira threw a mischievous look at Futaba.
"You don't mean…!?" She responded in exaggerated fashion.
"One Yuuki Mishima." Akira grinned. He did not notice his girlfriend's uncomfortable expression, or how she regained her façade for the moment.
Everyone pressed their ear to Akira's phone as he pressed on the 'call' icon. There was not an audible breath, only the contained non-sound of anticipation, and the young man's own heartbeats drumming in his ears,
Silence on the other side. One. Two. Three. Four. Five seconds.
And then, a sound too familiar and commonplace to raise any attention, and yet his friends' faces still took on cariscaturesque masques of joy. A sliver of voice escaped Ryuji as he mouthed the words "IT'S CALLING!" at his girlfriend, while Ann suppressed a squeal. Haru pressed her hands to her lips, yet her cheeks still betrayed the biggest smile. Futaba threw herself enthusiastically at Makoto; the latter reciprocated by putting her arms around the young hacker's small shoulders. Yusuke and Morgana looked the most composed, but their eyes shimmered.
It was three tones until the recipient picked up with a brief crackling sound.
No words on the other side. Or at least no sounds that could be pieced together into discernible words. Yet Akira still distinctly recognised Yuuki's voice, cut by interference and fleeting moments of silence. He tried for a good twenty seconds to get a message across. To his relief, despite the possibility his friend was also unable to hear him, he did not hung up.
"Yuuki. I cannot hear you. In case you can hear me, we're stranded in some strange place. We're trying to find our way back. Don't tell Sojiro!" He tried summing up the brunt of the message in short sentences. The call lasted for a minute and a half before Yuuki hung up. The experiment ultimately yielded no result. But it was not all a wasted effort. If only by a small margin, they were closer to understanding the nature of this place.
"Fuck, man…" Ryuji was forlorn. As it was often the case, he expressed what most of the group was thinking, albeit in his usual, crude manner.
Alas, Akira's expression proved a striking contrast to the dejected mood. He was smiling. The confident warmth in his eyes took Makoto off guard as he offered his hand for her to grab as she got up.
"What's on your mind?" She asked him.
"Well, I'm disappointed that didn't work as we hoped." He said for all to hear. "Perhaps we got awful reception down here. But even if that isn't the issue, we at least know this place doesn't have the same restrictions as the Metaverse. In a way, perhaps this place is closer to our side in comparison. This is all conjecture, though."
His eyes went settled for a moment on each of his friends.
"I can't exactly prove it yet. But there's something about this place, something I know we can shed light on. And I can't wait." He beckoned his friends to follow him as he began walking back into the greater expanse of the plain.
Makoto hurried to catch up before the others.
"Wait. Where are we going?"
"Higher ground."
[ ]
The eight continued to travel across the territory. They had no way of locating the places they had already set foot on, except perhaps the great plain that seemed almost a continent alone; it was not an effective landmark to speak of, so their only choice was to find and name one themselves. The first such landmark was 'The Lighthouse': the first hill they climbed since regaining their strength and their resolve. It only made sense to name it that way. It was a comparatively high spot, and its purpose was ultimately to provide orientation.
And it also happened to look out to sea.
The strand looked to be about 2 kilometres away from the Lighthouse. The shore, gently caressed by the low tide, was a lonely, almost peaceful view; however, the reflection of the skies' colour made the visible stretch of sea an unsettling, ominous sight. For all they knew, the beach and the waters were also devoid of animal life, but it was hard to truly believe so. Land was one thing. The depths of the ocean were something else entirely.
"Place looks pretty deserted, no?" Ann observed.
"Shouldn't be a surprise, I guess." Makoto said.
Akira looked at the time on his phone. 22:20. He tried calling Yuuki once more, though there was little improvement in the state of communication. This time, his friend stayed on the line for a longer time, which may be a good sign. If he was one to chalk up the call as a prank, or a mistake, he would probably have hung up after just a few seconds. Whether he considered getting in touch with Sojiro, or the police, that was something Akira preferred not to dwell on.
"No curtains in sight either, man." Ryuji looked in every direction.
"It looks like quite a walk up to that beach," Akira joined him.
"Yup."
"You up for it?"
"You even need to ask?" Ryuji smiled at his best friend.
Although Akira imagined some would choose to stay atop the Lighthouse, everybody echoed Ryuji's disposition. There was no sign of anything noteworthy beyond the change in setting from their vantage point, but they could think of nothing else to do, and to simply stay idle after Akira helped them was just wasteful in their eyes; they had still more than enough energy to spare.
If for nothing else, they would have one more landmark for reference. They decided, as they walked, to name the lookout to sea 'The Puddle' in Morgana's honour, whom marked a tree atop the Lighthouse as an extra measure. Makoto was not terribly pleased with the name choice, but she could indulge at least for humour's sake. Knowing her friends like she did, this was probably one of the most harmless names they could come up with.
The walk to the beach was easy, even leisurely. They even afforded some accustomed banter. Ryuji and Ann were as loud a couple as ever. Futaba noted every single thing she saw, teasing Morgana along the way. Something Yusuke said got a charming giggle out of Haru. Neither Akira nor Makoto knew if this mood would last, but they would not bring themselves to rain on their parade.
But the mood died all the same as soon as they reached the sand.
The shrouded figure stood just a few metres away, his back towards them, and no apparent intention to walk away. From this minimal distance, they could see some things in greater detail. For a start, they saw how ragged and torn was his cloak, which looked like it was fashioned out of a discarded sack, worn for years and never cleaned. It could well be a miracle that the seabound wind did not tear it to ribbons.
Despite the unflattering look resembling a long-time homeless person, they perceived no odour. And regardless of the sound of the wind and the crashing waves, his presence dropped a notion of unbreakable silence. Nobody could utter a sound, not even Ryuji, whom would have been the first to speak.
The hesitation to speak extended to even an unwillingness to move. Somehow, it felt safer when they followed him in uncertainty from a distance. But now, a pervading sense of wrongness emanated from the unknown one. They all were frozen where they stood.
Except for Akira.
Makoto fixed her gaze on him as he watched the shrouded person. Considering the possible link between this place and he, she expected to find hesitation and anxiety written on his face. Instead, she found an almost child-like curiosity in his eyes. Her jaw was shut so tightly it hurt. And she wished now, more than ever, that she was able to summon her Persona.
Akira took two steps in his direction. A sudden, dauntingly quick movement stopped his third. The cloaked figure turned to face them.
And they instantly wished his very presence had gone unknown forever.
No shadow granted the mercy of covering his features. The hue of his skin was cadaverously pale; a pestilent green mixed with white that did not disguise the bruised blotches on his chest and legs, hints of necrosis, organ failure, coagulating blood, movement where there ought to be stillness. Nude beneath the cloak. His eyes clouded white over, blind only in appearance. They still gazed forward, unblinking, finding each and every one of their gazes, and holding it just enough to leave an unforgiving burden on them.
Beneath the black of his hair, tangled in unruly locks, his face was very much that of Akira.
[ ]
Courtesy of my friend Bronson at .com
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