Since the moment the Phantom Thieves first escaped Nyarlathotep's clutches, they were committed to an uphill road. Their every waking moment went to the crafting of the Masquerade, and the ensuing final stand; but each hour signified a debt to be paid at the end of it all. Their old lives awaited on the other end of the storm, and despite the unseen threat of the Crawling Chaos, the world continued to turn. Catching up to its rhythm was a daunting challenge on its own.
Two years have passed since the Phantom Thieves saved the world once again.
Years ago, Ryuji Sakamoto would have bemoaned the lot of a thankless job of near-cosmic proportions. But today, he rather appreciated the obscurity; it allowed him to focus on what waited ahead, on the white line at the end of the track. Several of the trainers at the sports centre muttered the word "Olympics" in hushed conversations, but Ryuji tried to keep a level head. He no longer needed to be hailed the hero - all he truly needed was the rush of the duel, between himself and the track.
For a long time, Ann Takamaki ricocheted between jobs, seemingly with two constants and no true direction. Modelling came easy, acting did not. Yet she found a new calling, somewhere in the middle. There were several diverse branches in journalism, and she struggled knowing precisely which appealed to her the most. But for the first time, she felt challenged in a particular way. Day in and day out, she felt ever more in her element. Indecision would not last long.
There existed no boundaries in Yusuke Kitagawa's craft. Wherever he turned, there was something to see, something to capture into his canvas. But some things still fell on him as a surprise, despite the near-limitless range of his artistic scope. Never, even in his wildest dreams, did he picture himself as a mentor. And yet, a number of youths began walking in his shadow, aching to perfect their art under his guidance; much like Yusuke years ago. A daunting task, but one he did not turn away from.
Futaba Sakura seemed to have a clear calling, a path waiting for her at the end of high school. But the obvious prospect of a career in technology or computer science appealed to her less and less; seemed too clear-cut, too rigid for what she wanted. She found herself in vocational turmoil, working at LeBlanc to keep herself busy. Everything changed after a throwaway remark from her father. A joking suggestion for a career in music took root in her brain almost immediately.
Little changed in Haru Okumura's public life. She was still the heiress of the Okumura Foods empire, and all the responsibilities that came with it. But her own perspective about this path had matured in a particular way. The further she dug into the innards of the industry, the more aware she became of the workers' plight. It was not enough to be better than her father in his darkest days. She had to actively pursue a new direction, even if that yielded powerful adversaries in the corporate world.
With the passing of the days, Morgana felt more at peace with the state of his self. Not a human as he once yearned to be, but not quite a cat either. This existence in-between afforded him ample chance to reflect upon what it meant to be alive, and to indulge in the company of other felines - kindred spirits in the world. Inspired thus, he vowed to become the first cat to actually write a book. Whether philosophy or poetry, or some innovative thing in the middle, he had yet to decide.
In the two years that followed, Makoto Niijima did more than abide to her path. She excelled in all demands of her career, setting new standards in academic and athletic performance. But the ace of the Police Academy was much unlike similarly accomplished candidates of the past. There was something special to the confidence that pushed her on, something both gentle and powerful: an unwavering sense of compassion. She knew that pursuing and dismantling crime was the easy part, but the real challenge lay in mending the evils and lacks allow for crime to fester. Beyond wielding the authority of the police department, Makoto vowed to become a public servant in the most faithful sense of the word. She had a duty to every citizen, and she would not fall short.
Through thick and thin, they each found their way in a world twice saved. Maybe by the fruit of their labour, or the inspiration they gained as Phantom Thieves of Hearts, life now had a bright, new lustre in their eyes. But even amidst precious days, one special occasion stood out in the near future - a day that once seemed so far away. Borne as a careless confession in a lonely rooftop; sealed as a promise in a dark, impossible place.
[ ]
"So, how did the weekend turn out?" Dr. Lala approached the conclusion of this week's session. The back room at Crossroads was no conventional spot to practice her second craft, but it afforded the necessary privacy.
"I can now look at red curtains without sweating cold." Akira Kurusu smiled from the patient's chair. On Sunday he attended a catering event at a luxurious hotel, along with several of his classmates. They meant to attain some experience a few months in advance - a boon in the culinary world. "Who knows, maybe I'll manage to go to the movies. Maybe a play even.
"That would be nice, and it does kinda segue into what I was actually asking. Did you manage to keep work away from leisure?"
"I... did my best." He sighed, much aware that his response was the same as last session. The process of catching up had gone rather differently for him. Getting back up to speed with his career was only the beginning. But somewhere along the way, Akira began to educate himself in other fields, even if his knowledge was cursory. Political science, sociology, mechanics...
On the outside, he seemed to have become committed to staying busy. But there was something else to it, an instinctive want to put his ear to the ground, and listen close. After all that the Phantom Thieves have gone through, he doubted that society would easily be reformed, or that the world would always be safe from unseen forces. Behind a humble spot at the counter, Akira resolved to keep vigilance. In the mean time, he remained diligent, and faithful to therapy.
"Fair enough. Just remember that any progress is good, no matter how seemingly small. You said you tried, and that's good as long as you remember to compartmentalise. And, honestly, you'll definitely need to very, very soon. If you can put your mind to it within..." Dr. Lala checked the time on her phone. "three hours from now, you'll probably be alright."
"Just three hours, huh?" Akira's line of thought shifted instantly.
"Are you nervous, Akira-kun?"
"I am, though I probably shouldn't be." He smiled. "I guess I waited for this moment since I saw her. What's three hours more?"
"Just about enough time to get ready, so I recommend that you be on your way."
"You'll be there, won't you?" Akira stood up.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, hun."
With a spring on his step, Akira Kurusu made his way to a small hotel in Ueno, where his parents were lodging during their visit to Tokyo. Masako and Takahisa were due to arrive that morning, but as per Kurusu tradition, they surprised their son by arriving two days earlier. This allowed for more time to enjoy the little pleasures of the city. At the end of the third day, they would see their son reprise another family tradition: taking the bride's name.
[ ]
All elements to the scene had come together beneath a sky painted orange and pink. The scene looked fairly obvious to the priests and maidens at the Hikawa Shrine in Asakasa: a young couple in love, coming in for a traditional Shinto wedding at the peak of spring. But there was much more to this seemingly conventional affair, than met the eye. It were not simply two lives becoming one, but a communion of many fates, united years ago by an uncanny bond.
The leading priest noticed the first peculiarity in the guests themselves. There was something distinctive and odd about every single one. In their midst, he recognised a Diet member, a legendary figure in the world of law, and two outstanding figures of the Japanese corporate landscape. And somehow, they meshed in perfectly with LeBlanc's owner and the cat sitting solemnly at his feet. Crossroads' mistress and a frighteningly sharp man with a gecko tattoo peeking his suit fit seamlessly in the composition, as did the pale girl dressed in blue. Even the groom's parents caught the man's eye with a striking impression, otherwise a perfect harmony with everyone in attendance.
The priest shook it off, and prepared himself for his duty. He only took one last glance at the couple's closest friends and found the very thing he longed to see in every wedding. Faithful pride and fierce love for the bride and groom, who waited just outside the gate. The priest and the maidens began the procession with Akira Kurusu and Makoto Niijima being led through the grounds of the shrine.
She dressed white - he dressed black, as custom mandated. But even now, they looked no different to how they were on their secretive encounters in Shujin, or the perilous forays as Phantom Thieves. The shiromuku and the montsuki were simply another mask for something that had always been there. And now, crossing the first gate, the two silently laid their thoughts bare.
Even if neither had said a thing on that fateful afternoon at Crossroads, their most intimate hopes were one and the same. He thought it misguided, she thought it naive; but every moment felt somehow extraordinary whenever the other was around. Gentle times were made inspiring, troubled days were turned soothing. And all throughout, a heap of insecurities and fears stared at them like a cold, inescapable fact. But at the end of each day, none of it mattered at all. In the gentle silence of night, Akira and Makoto dared to dream of a future where every day was like this.
And now the dream was coming true.
The procession ended at the altar, where the lead priest took his place as intercessor between God and the couple. The ceremony began with a bow and the rite of purification. The priest went on to chant the prayer, invoking three gifts upon the young couple: peace, protection against misfortune, and success on all endeavours. Unbeknownst to him, the pair and their closest friends had gone a long way in staving off misfortune and ruin, and nonetheless his words resonated deep with Akira and Makoto. In this strange and wonderful world, where Gods and Demons peered in from beyond, and the lights and shadows within the soul could manifest in the flesh - would life always stay the same?
Akira and Makoto resisted the urge to look at one another, as if to seek mutual reassurance. The priest's booming voice and the vibration of the bell proved a blessing in its own right, keeping their heads in the present moment. There was no room to curse the past or lament the future unseen. The gifts endowed upon them would be meaningless without their shared fortitude. Whatever happens - mundane, extraordinary, or otherwise - they shall face together.
The ceremony neared its end with the drinking of the sake. By its very scent, the bride and the groom began to suspect neither of them would turn out much of a drinker. Nonetheless, they sipped the rice wine without hesitation, committing themselves to the ins and outs of the post-ceremony celebration. Akira and Makoto then stood before the altar, and recited the wedding oath, something they knew by heart. But even if the slight tremble in Makoto's words was imperceptible to all, Akira perceived it clearly.
Even in this joyous occasion, there was a pain in Makoto's heart - one that may live inside her forever. For every step and every word, there was one persisting thought.
If only he could see me now.
Her wedding, her graduation; even the very simple solace of seeing him before and after school every day. Those all were joys she never got to share with her father. And what future may wait ahead would forever be a musing without an answer. Children, were she to have them, would only know their grandfather through stories. Her head grew quiet, and she realised seconds after that she was only mouthing the words by now.
Her head was down. She saw neither the priest nor Akira's face, but the latter's touch on her hand allowed her to visualise the look on his face. He too had paused, looking on with tender eyes, and speaking with his stillness.
Take your time.
The seconds in her pause were just that. A minimal measure before carrying on, from where she thought she might have stopped. Her pain mingled with her joy, and it would continue for some time, but the thought shall always catch her in motion, unstopping and free.
Dad, wherever you are... if you're seeing me right now, know that I'll do my best, that I'm happy and well. And that I miss you, so very much.
The shrine maidens walked in at the end of the oath, carrying the wedding rings. Through the corner of the eye, the couple spotted their friends pulling out their phones to capture the exchange. Ann and Haru looked the most eager, while Ryuji and Boss began to tear up. It was contagious - the emotion framing the square within the shrine. Makoto took the initiative, holding Akira's hand and placing the ring around his finger. The ensuing excitement and blooming mirth around them made their hearts skip a beat. The reality was a stronger touch to their senses than the sake was.
It has happened - that which they imagined and dreamed of since that eventful afternoon at a bar in Shinjuku.
"I am yours." He whispered to her, his face a joyful chaos. "Forever."
As per tradition, the couple approached God in the closest possible manner. The priest handed the evergreen branches to the Niijimas to finalise the communion. Akira and Makoto presented the branch, their gift of sincerity, before God in gratitude for the graces of the ceremony. Thus, the shrine attendant began the taiko drum roll, signalling the end of the ceremony. Before the eyes of man, God, and whatever lay beyond and in-between, they were husband and wife.
Akira and Makoto reunited with their friends and family. Propriety was a strong bulwark, which delayed the explosion of mirth only until the group made it outside the Shrine's grounds. After that...
[ ]
Haru Okumura stated it clearly. She respected her friends' wish for an austere, traditional wedding. But everything afterwards would be her dominion entirely. Nobody was truly surprised on seeing what she had prepared for the celebration, but the meticulous arranging and amount of luxury were jaw-dropping. Somehow, booking the entire top floor in Tokyo's grandest hotel for two days seemed a modest measure in comparison. Haru stood before them at the entrance of the hotel, bowed, and asked only that "they ate and drank responsibly."
The party began on the spot with Morgana snatching all the fatty tuna he could find. Ryuji, Ann, Yusuke and Futaba spread across the buffet region to indulge in their appetites. Haru herself took her time to pick the best wine for a toast. And while the selection of beverages was astoundingly diverse, Sojiro Sakura and Takahisa Kurusu were content with catching up in the company of a single bottle of whiskey. Sae Niijima quickly found conversation with Masako Kurusu, a woman after her own heart, and was later joined by an already tipsy Sadayo Kawakami.
Yuuki Mishima and Hifumi Togo were both visibly intimidated by the towering heaps of food, so they invited other guests and staff at the hotel to partake of the celebration. Chihaya Hifume entertained a wide-eyed Yasunori Kujo with her knowledge of divination, while Iwai Munehisa was bombarded with questions by a lively Ichiko Ohya with Lala-san keeping her in check. Toranosuke Yoshida and Susumu Kamiyama retreated to the pool table, beginning a small, friendly rivalry of their own, only to be devastated by Tae Takemi's skills. Shinya Oda and Kaoru Munehisa made their way to the actual pool to get some exercise before digging in; they knew the party would go long into the night, and then some.
As for the freshly wed, Akira and Makoto spent a while in a secluded spot, as per their old habit. Serenaded by Lavenza, who has taken a shine to Karaoke, the two observed the party unfolding. Even from the distance, the mood was intoxicating.
"It's going to be tough getting back to work after tonight." Makoto laughed.
"I hear you." Akira grinned, expecting the pace to get more vigourous within the hour. "I'm not prepared to meet our first morning with a hangover... so I won't."
"Will you brew us all some coffee later?" His wife teased.
"I just might. Coffee time is still a few ways away. In the meantime, we still have some time to ourselves."
No further words needed be said. They seized this moment of privacy before the celebration inevitably pulled them towards its fullest orbit. As they learned years ago, one never does stop learning. Even fifteen minutes of study could do a world of good.
Later in the evening, Akira's parents sat down with their daughter-in-law- as delighted as on the day they met her. Meanwhile, her husband browsed through the goods in the kitchen, looking for the ideal blend. He was deeply concentrated on the smallest nuances, but even so, his senses were sharp enough to know there were two figures standing nearby. Unknown parties, dressed in dark colours.
Part of him contemplated taking hold of a kitchen knife nearby. It was hardly the best weapon, yet it would suffice for self-defence should it come to that. Instead, he opted to wait and see. From what he could hear, there was barely any malice or aggression in the way they tried to hide the mumbling between them.
"Mr. Akira Kurusu?" One of them spoke, a tall, strongly built man with a thuggish face.
"That would be Mr. Akira Niijima, since a few hours ago." Akira spoke politely, disguising his sharper qualities.
"Our apologies, and felicitations, Mr. Niijima." Spoke a small, slender woman at the stranger's side.
"It's not a problem, and thank you." He smiled. "Can I help you?"
"My associate and I come on behalf of Kirijo Group. We have, in fact, been trying to get in touch with you for a few days now. I can see now why we've had some trouble. Nonetheless, we won't take much of your time."
The tall man pulled out an envelope, and presented it to Akira in formal manner. The gesture looked slightly exaggerated and ill-fitting for the man.
"Is this a summons of sorts?" Akira took the envelope. The name Kirijo rang in his head like a distant recollection. He has heard it in the news, but never really thought much further than that.
"An invitation." The man corrected with a voice both deep and somehow juvenile.
"Important a matter as it is, feel free to open it at your leisure." The demeanour in the woman came off much more naturally than her partner's. The envelope's recipient could tell at a glance that she was a professional.
"Excuse me. What exactly is this about?" Akira narrowed his eyes. As the seconds passed by, he started to feel a kind of familiarity to them. Somehow, he did not even think of asking their names, and they themselves had not offered that knowledge as custom goes. Yet that felt unnecessary. It was as if they had met before. Given the unusual circumstance, a measure of suspicion would feel natural. But Akira felt he could trust them, somehow.
"It's a matter of which you're experienced, knowledgeable, and respected." She smiled. "We hope to hear from you. But for now, farewell, and may your union be blessed with health and happiness." The small woman made for the door.
"Congrats!" The burly man added before leaving.
Akira was left in the kitchen, alone with the bags of coffee and the envelope. He shook it to gauge its weight, and found its contents to be only paper. But he did not open it. Rather, he paid a close look at the waxen seal. And oddly, rather than finding a logo boasting the Kirijo name, he saw four letters only.
S.E.E.S.
[ ]
The celebration continued, promising to go on even into the late night side of morning. On all corners of the top floor, something special happened. New friendships and resolutions were born - chiefly among the latter, the engagement between Ryuji and Ann. Though he stumbled on his words, and literally slipped into the pool, her response was not deterred. Haru immediately jumped at the chance to fulfil her dream of organising a wedding, to which Ann accepted with glee.
Akira and Makoto happily let their friends hijack the spirit of the celebration. In a way, this turn felt like something that could have happened years ago, during some Phantom Thieves meeting in LeBlanc's attic. But rather than cogitate on the next target, the couple wondered what the future may hold for all their lives. Perhaps, Akira thought, the allure of the mystery would stick with them forever. Both the mundane incognita, and the low whispers in the dark. It was an otherwise overwhelming uncertainty, but he no longer feared a thing.
His mind and heart were set. The letter he received earlier would be opened in the presence of all eight.
Phantom Thieves or not, he would no longer keep them in the dark as he had done before.
But for tonight...
"Huh?" Akira was stirred from his train of thought by Makoto's hand on his cheek. Looking into her eyes, he revived the moment she met him at the subway station on his return to Tokyo. The sole impression left him at a loss for words.
"Hello there." She smiled. "Something on your mind?"
"Everything." He said with complete honesty. Meditations on the past and their future were no small matter. "But that can wait. For now, let's just make the most of the night."
"I like the sound of that." She rested her head against his chest, listening to the lively beating of his heart. "You take the lead, love."
And so, he did.
[ ]
Author's notes:
So, here it is. Last night, I sat on my chair, a bit transfixed in the moment. Wasn't very sure of what to make of the whole situation, but the fact stared right at me: that the thing I've been working on (more or less consistently) for almost two years has now come to an end. I was always committed to finish it, but never really sat and thought on what I'd do or feel when that moment came. Can't really speak for any of my readers, but if there's a takeaway for me, as both writer and reader, is that I fell in love with these characters because of their humanity, and the core element to Persona as a narrative: compassion. And I can't really enjoy or partake of Persona without practicing the things that these games present. Essentially, this story was about overcoming trauma, and finding the strength in vulnerability. The process of writing felt like a dialogue between myself and these notions. Translating that into an answer for my feelings as I write this, the only thing that makes sense is to keep going, and never stop creating, in whichever craft or expression I choose. For all my self-doubt, anxieties and fears, there must be some grace push me forward. All in all, that's my takeaway - hopefully there's one for you as well. Thank you for reading, through my growing pains, my peaks and valleys, and the conclusion, which I hope you liked. Be well and happy.