OOOOOsu! Welcome back!
Sorry for the a bit late chapter, I went back home this weekend so :P
Anyhow! For all your lovely review, thank you! Especially you, teetimtim916-san! Your review makes my day for almost a week!
For this chapter, Makoto is in pain, Ryoji doesn't know what to do, and the Thieves are in for some wild ride, being given guns without an explanation.
Enjoy!
Chapter Three: Omen
March 5th, 2017
Instead of getting better, his pain worsens.
He can't hear anything except screeching in his head. He has lost his voice a few hours ago due to how much he had just been screaming. The pain is much, much worse that what had happened up there, and he's being ripped apart from the inside out.
Ryoji's presence does much in keeping him somewhat sane, but it doesn't help with the agony his body is experiencing. Makoto thinks he's also crying, but he isn't sure. He cannot focus on anything else.
"—oto. Makoto!" Ryoji tries again, hands on his arms as he keeps his body from writhing too much. He couldn't see the other's face, with his eyes screwed shut, but he could hear clear distress in his voice. "What's wrong? Come on, Makoto, tell me how I can help!"
He doesn't answer. He couldn't. Instead, he grips Ryoji's arm tightly, nails digging into the other's skin. There's warm wetness under his fingertips, but Ryoji says nothing about it. Instead, he lets Makoto abuses his arm, holding onto it like a lifeline. It helps keep him grounded, and he's grateful for it.
"Shh. Shh," He murmurs, soothing Makoto however he could.
He doesn't know how long he had stayed like that, but it must've been at least a few more hours because the sun had long since set. The pain persists, although a bit less now, and every little actions Ryoji does help ease it a little more. His ragged breathing slows down, leaving him with gasps and moans instead of silent screams he'd been letting out. He dares to open his eyes — his vision is so fucking blurry — and he's glad he did because Ryoji looks instantly relieved.
The other boy lets him clings to his arm, and settles himself down somewhat.
"Are you alright?"
Makoto shakes his head and groans immediately, his vision swimming. He inhales and exhales deeply a few more time before rasping out, "How long…?"
"It's 5.13 am," Ryoji responds, his voice coating with nothing but pain. When the hell did it start? Makoto thinks he hadn't said that aloud, but Ryoji seems to understand what he wants to ask. "It started when we got back to our room… that was twelve hours ago."
Oh.
"Sor… sorry," He gasps out, then coughs.
"Why are you apologizing, you idiot?" Ryoji does his best to put on a brave face, but Makoto knows better. The other helps him sits up a little and puts a cup under his lips. "Drink. Your voice is pretty cracked right now, and I'm not going to start explaining why."
Sorry, He wants to say. He really does. But he just nods and takes little sips at a time, carefully so.
Ryoji looks out the window. Then he turns back to Makoto. "Are you okay?"
He mouths, I dunno, silently, not trusting himself enough to put any kind of volume behind any words. Ryoji sighs at that then sets him down, making sure to let Makoto hogs his arm to himself for now. His pale eyes find Ryoji's, and the other smiles sadly at him.
"Are you afraid?"
He nods.
"Me too."
Makoto looks at him, seeing his brows knotted together, and that painfully forced smile. Ryoji tugs lightly, and Makoto lets his arm go. The other simply wipes the blood off and sits fully on the bed next to his form, still curling on it in fetal position.
Ryoji just pats his head lightly, soothingly. "Please get some rest. We'll talk when the pain is gone. And I'll be here, don't worry."
He sighs. Ryoji's reassurance is strong enough that he feels like he could let himself sleep without worry.
He shuts his eyes and lets himself rest.
When he wakes up, he's greeted with a basket.
There's a post it on the handle.
Pain meds. Please use wisely. I'll be back after a few hours, so stay put until then.
—Ryoji.
He snorts at the post it and grips his head as he pushes himself up. There is a bit too many bottles of pills in the basket, and if he had to guess, Ryoji must've snatched them from the pharmacy. He groans, too hurt to really care (not that he normally would) and pops a few pills into his mouth.
He slumps back, breathing shallowly because apparently, deep breaths now hurt like he's hit with a truck, too. Makoto has to keep wiping sweats away from his face, as they keep forming. He feels like he's on fire, and the AC at 15 freaking Celsius does nothing to help.
He just stares at the light bulb above of him and wills his mind to think.
Well, he did just return from being dead. Could that be the reason why he feels such intense pain? He frowns at the idea… it seems too easy to assume that his sudden alive-ness just causes him this. It might be something more, and he isn't sure where to put his finger at.
Regardless, the randomness of the pain could make him vulnerable in the worst of times.
Imagining that happening inside the so-called Metaverse or, god forbid, during the Dark Hour, would spells his instant death. He frowns at the idea, and while it's unpleasant to think about, it's the truth that he needs to find solutions to.
He moans, dizziness suddenly overtakes his senses, causing him to sink further into his pillow. He swallows hard, and barely pulls himself enough over the edge of the bed in time before all his gastric contents come out and burn his throat on its way into the trash can.
It takes him several minutes to finish, and several more before he has the energy or the heart to pulls his head off the trash can. And it is this exact moment that the door clicks open.
"Oh my god, Makoto!" Ryoji quickly shuts the door and rushes to his side. He holds up a hand to say that he's fine, but he must've looked like complete shit for Ryoji to frown at him and drag him back up the bed. The other looks at him, the crumbled sheets of the bed, then the bin, then back at him. "How long have you been barfing?"
"Dunno," He murmurs, gripping his head in both hands. "A while. Throat hurts."
"This is worse than I thought," Ryoji says, forcefully stripping off Makoto's jackets and socks and unbutton a few buttons of his shirt. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and he feels like he still can't get enough air. "We have to find the cause for this soon, because I don't think you'd be able to endure it if it happened again."
"Of course I can," Makoto retorts. "It just hurts. I'm fine."
"You puked out everything, Makoto. Including blood," Ryoji says, pointing at little droplets of red staining his jackets and shirt.
Oh.
"Oh."
"Don't 'Oh' me!" Ryoji, for the first time, snaps. There's a sense of panic in his voice. "I can't even imagine how much it hurts for you to claw off your nails and scream for twelve. Straight. Hours! Don't fucking lie to me and say everything is fine because nothing is fine!"
He pants after his outburst. Makoto only nods, looking away from him. Never once had he seen Ryoji angry, and now that he is… it's his fault.
What he said… is the truth that Makoto can't deny anymore.
After a moment of silence, he whispers tentatively. "I… don't know. All I remember is pain and… you."
Ryoji combs his hair back with his fingers and exhales. "I know, Makoto. Sorry about that."
"I deserved it," Is all he manages to say.
Ryoji hums, but says nothing else.
Neither of them speaks a word to each other for a few minutes before Ryoji speaks up again. "How're you feeling now?"
"Sick. Tired. Out of breath. Hot," He lists, trying to keep his breath steady. Ryoji acknowledges him with a quiet okay before he shifts away. Makoto watches as he disappears into the bathroom for a while, only to reappear with a small bowl and a towel.
"Can you sit?" He asks. Makoto tries to, but he feels sick just thinking, so he nope himself out of it and shakes his head. Ryoji nods and helps him up, leaning him against the headboard. He then starts wiping the blood off of his body. "You're a mess."
Makoto groans.
"Just ask for help next time. You're not alone, you know," Ryoji mutters, voice low, as he works meticulously and thoroughly. Makoto sighs and lets his head falls back, angling his head towards a certain corner of the ceiling.
They spent almost half an hour in absolute silence, where Ryoji just keeps cleaning up the messes he made and he's just… sitting there, being in pain and useless.
"Ryoji, I'm—"
"Don't you dare say I'm sorry, Makoto. None of this is your fault," Ryoji cuts him off. "But not admitting it and not asking for help are. I'll always be here with you, so lean on me, 'kay?"
"…M'kay," He finally relents, closing his eyes.
…And he must've passed out because next thing he know, Ryoji is gently shaking him.
"I'm awake now," He says tiredly. Gripping his head, he sits up fully, his body tipping forward. He could feel the other's arms waiting to catch him. "I'm not going to fall, I promise."
"Okay," Ryoji steps back. Makoto opens his eyes to see that it's midday, now.
"…I need to see a doctor."
"Yeah, I think you should, too. But we can't go to the hospital. We don't have enough money. Not to mention that hospitals are always saturated with negative thoughts," Ryoji says, looking at the tiny piece of paper. He looks up at Makoto. "I'm going to call Amamiya. See if he can help."
"Okay," Makoto says meekly, resting his head against his knee. "I'll wait."
"Yo,"
Ren doesn't need to turn to know Ryuji and Takamaki have arrived. He smiles and nods without looking at them, pointing up. "You can crash upstairs for now. Crow is going to be here soon."
"Man, this suck," Ryuji says, resting his arm on Ren's back. "Looks like someone knows something about the Thieves, huh?"
"I hope they don't try to blackmail us into doing something weird," Ren says, putting his glasses down, eyes scanning the documents Futaba sent him earlier. Her attempts to trace back whoever sent Akechi the money isn't fruitful at all. Whoever did this is a professional.
"Even Futaba-chan can't find anything?" Takamaki says from the side, eyeing his screen. She frowns at Futaba's rants from last night. "They walled her hard, huh? That's new for her."
"And quite concerning," He adds, closing his phone for now. "Let's go upstairs. The others are waiting."
Before he could fully unseat himself, however, the door opens and a familiar face shows himself. Ren just gives him a smirk and straightens himself up.
With a nod, he greets the newcomer. "It's been a while… Akechi."
"Colour me surprise, you're actually glad I'm here," The other replies almost too politely. Ryuji huffs while Takamaki places her hand on her hips, a scowl on her face. "You don't have to be so openly hostile. I know you people hate me, but this involves all of us in the most unpleasant way possible."
His face falls at that, and he shows Akechi what Futaba had relayed to him. The other's scowl deepens further, and his eyes look up from the screen to Ren's face. The Trickster just puts the phone down and thumbs in the direction of the ceiling. "She's up there. And – What the hell did you bring with you?"
"These? The other things I mention in our chat, of course," Akechi says, showing him a simple leather briefcase. He shakes it lightly to show that there is indeed more than a single object inside. "This thing was sent to me the morning after the money is wired and my records wiped. Someone who is capable of all this is no simple man. Or…"
"Not just one," Ren surmises.
Akechi nods. "Let's get together. We need to discuss this. Urgently so."
.
His attic room is now filled with a lot of people. All of the Thieves, Yoshizawa and Akechi. He sits down on his couch, and Morgana promptly jumps into his lap. Akechi regards everyone briefly before setting the case on the table and opens it.
Inside are nine pistols and one collar, craft-to-fit for Morgana.
"…What the hell are these?"
"There are instructions attached, although it doesn't explain much," Akechi says, unfolding a piece of paper and starts reading it aloud. "Facing your own demise will bring you closer to the truth. If you have other ways to bring out the true you within, then so be it. But if you cannot, these will assist you. Further instructions will be handed when the time is right."
The room falls silent.
"Sign," Akechi continues, frowning. "Fellow Persona User, Artemisia."
"No way in hell that's a real name," Ryuji spits, fist hitting the table. "What the hell. It sounds like they know everything while we know nothing!"
"While that might be the case, I suspect the name isn't for a human, Sakamoto-kun," Makoto notes, fingers rubbing her chin. "Artemisia must be this mysterious person's Persona. But what concerns me is that this can't be a work of a single person."
"Which brings us to the questions; Who are they? What do they want?" Akechi says, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His brows scrunch further as he reaches for the gun. "I checked these. They aren't made to fire bullets. They aren't made to fire anything."
"If I were to guess," Ren begins, also taking a gun into his hand. "From the massage, these must be this person's way of bringing out their Persona."
"That is most likely the case. But why sent these to us?" Kitagawa interjects. "There's also a collar, must have been made for Morgana. Which means –"
"This person knows I'm also a Persona-User," The not-cat hisses. "But how? None of these make sense."
"And they're not ratting all of us out, either," Akechi says, setting the gun back and sitting next to Ren. "It must mean they want something from us. Damnit, this makes me what to punch their damn faces in!"
"Calm down, Crow," Ren commands, and while the other claims they're equals, he still listens to the Trickster. That's good. His face then turns to the others, then stop at Futaba. "Futaba, how's the investigation going?"
"Not good. I'm blocked in every way," The girl slams her laptop shut. "I need a breather."
"We need a breather," Makoto corrects her. "Right now, we only have questions. I propose we each sit on this and think this through first."
"We don't have time for that!" Akechi protests. "What if –"
The ringing of his phone stops all of them.
Ren picks it up and looks at the unknown number. He looks at each of them, and they fall silent in unison, letting him take the call. This might be the mysterious person. Who knows?
"Hello?"
"Er, hello," A familiar but not really voice comes through. A boy. A bit awkward, so definitely not the culprit. "Um, is this Amamiya?"
"Yeah, it's me. Who're you?" He asks, voice raw from the tension. He clears his throat a little.
"The transfer student, Mochizuki Ryoji. Remember?"
Oh! "Oh! Uh, sorry, you called at a surprising time," His tension is instantly forgotten, and he waves his hand to the others, signaling that this is not it. They all let out their held breaths. "Can I help you? You want me to show you around or something?"
"Not… exactly," Mochizuki seems a bit pained. Reluctant. Ren's brows furrow.
"What's wrong?"
"It's Makoto," Oh, the boy who looked like he's going to throw up a few days ago. "He's really sick, and we don't have enough money for a hospital stay. Do you have any recommendations for clinics or home-visit doctors?"
"I do, I do," He quickly switches to speaker in a hurry. His friends look worriedly, but he says nothing and searches for a certain T in his device. "Is he okay?"
"I wouldn't say 'okay', but he's breathing," Mochizuki sighs. He could hear panting from the other end of the line.
Yoshizawa blinks. "Is that… Mochizuki-senpai?"
"Yeah," He nods, finding the number, then pauses. "Tell you what, send me your locations. I'll bring her to you, it's faster that way. 'Sides, she doesn't really trust new customers."
"Understandable," Mochizuki says. "And next time, tell me before you go on speakers? I can hear your friends' breathing from here."
They all cough at that.
"Sorry, sorry," He undoes the speaker phone right away and grabs his jacket. "Can you give me a run down of his symptoms so I can tell Takemi-san?"
He lets Mochizuki gives him compacted details, and he could feel his expression turning from just worry to outright terrified. The more he describes it, the more it sounds like this boy is dying.
"I'll be there as soon as I could. If anything changes, call me right away!" He orders before hanging up and looking at the Thieves. They look baffled, and worried – must be from his expressions. His eyes drift towards the gun, but decides to ignore it. "My new friend is really hurt, and I'm bringing a doctor. I'm gonna take Takemi-san to him."
There are choruses of okay and gotcha, but one person stands up instead of confirming. Makoto walks to him. "I'll go with you."
"Okay," He says with a nod. Morgana hops inside his backpack and he zips it halfway.
With that, he hurries out the door.
Yu lets himself slides halfway off the bench, his eyes facing the canopy above him. He had already told the others, and they said they'd discuss this with him soon.
They know about Personas and Shadows.
What the hell is going on?
"You look like shit, man."
Yu doesn't look at the speaker as he sits beside him, his usually playful voice strained. Yu lets himself sighs and turns to his partner. "Long time no see, Yosuke."
"I just wish it ain't like this," The other man laughs, and pulls a smile out of him. Yu sits up straight, this time. "But man, to think they know about us, who fought out in the sticks. Why not target them Phantom Thieves? They're much showier than we are."
"Maybe they already did, who knows?" Yu jokes. But deep down, there is a possibility these people already did. Rise hadn't told him much, but a quick call sent a chill down his spine.
"They knew almost everything, Senpai. The fogs, the kidnappings. They even know we fought a god!"
Someone outside their ring knowing that much is not a good sign.
Not at all.
And apparently, they send her a briefcase with guns.
"That'd be really bad," Yosuke says. "Looks like our college years might be as interesting as our high school days, right, partner?"
"I really wish it wouldn't, but yes," He says, looking up at the sky, and then at the strange application labeled MetaNav in his phone. "Looks like we're dragged into one more round of fighting, partner."
So! How was it? I hope you like Door-kun in pain... because I do. :P
Drop a review if you're inclined! And hope to see you again next chapter (hopefully next week)!
