Shuffled

Story Summary: One was unwilling to fight death and the other incapable of seeing the truth. The failure of the two twisted the power of the wild card. Now Makoto Yuki must see what Yu Narukami could not and Yu Narukami must fight what Makoto Yuki would not. (P3 and P4 protagonist switch up)

Chapter 1: Girls with Guns Part One

12 March 2011

Makoto Yuki woke to a dim blue light and the unmistakable rumbling of riding in a car. The cool press of the vehicle's window and the warm condensation of his breath against it caused him to stir. The blur of sleep fogged his vision as he tiredly wiped water from his eyes. The vehicle's seat was undeniably comfortable and made him aware that he rode in a limousine. It was the familiar, kindly mocking voice of his fellow passenger that brought him to full awareness.

"Hmm, this is quite the surprise," Igor said, "It seems you have finally awoken. Even I was unsure if you would be granted the gift of another morning."

Makoto looked over to the voice speaking to him. The man was short and balding. He had blood shot eyes hinting at a lack of sleep and an impossibly long nose. He looked familiar, but the haze in his mind kept him from connecting a name to the man.

The woman seated next to him was completely unfamiliar, however. She held herself with an elegance that was intimidating. Her red painted lips and golden hawk-like eyes stared back at him impassively, but Makoto could feel the animosity emanating from her.

"Oh, do you also not remember me?" Igor spoke more to himself. "Well perhaps it is better that you not remember. Sometimes bearing the responsibility of one's own actions proves too heavy."

I only ask that you bear the responsibility of your actions. In that moment Makoto remembered everything. The images of his friends passed before his eyes. He fell to the floor of the limo. His breath came in ragged gasps that choked the life from him. Cold sweat dripped down the length of his chin and soaked his blue hair to a damp black.

"Igor?" Makoto managed.

"You do remember then?" Igor questioned. "In that case you have my sincerest condolences."

The contents of his stomach exited him and stained the limo's carpeted floor. Yukari, Junpei, Mitsuru, and Akihiko they were gone. Ken, Fuuka, Koromaru, and Aigis were dead. He was the one who had killed them.

"I . . . I," Makoto's voice cracked while his body shook.

"You killed a world." The woman with the golden eyes accused. She looked down at him in disgust.

"No! I was just trying to . . . It would have been pointless . . . I-I . . ."

"Margaret," Igor interrupted, "You can see how he bears the full weight of his choices. Or can you not? Chastising him further will neither bring back that which was lost nor mend that which is broken."

The calm on the woman's face broke at Igor's admonishment. Her cold beautiful face twisted her crimson lips in sneer. "Why should he be granted another chance when so many others were not." Her anger turned to sorrow as she met Igor's gaze. "Elizabeth did not deserve . . ."

"That is enough," Igor raised his voice, silencing her.

"Elizabeth too," Makoto whispered in defeat.

Igor turned back to their guest. "My boy, fretting over the past will not save the future. For now there is a contract offered to you."

Makoto's eyes shot up in desperation. That must be why he was here. There was still a way to save everyone. He could rewrite his actions. "Tell me what I have to do. I'll find a way to save them. I won't let everyone die. I can find a way to stop Nyx!"

Igor's frown deepened. "That is not why you are here. That world is dead and its fate cannot be rewritten."

Makoto rose to his knees yelling angrily. "Then why did you bring me back? Why did you let me live?"

Igor broke away from his gaze and something in his eyes spoke of guilt. "I did not bring you here. I have no dominion over your world. The power of the Wild Card brought you here for purposes unknown even to me."

"But . . ."

"We will speak more later," Igor interrupted with a frown, "For now it seems you better return to your new world before you die once more."

"Wait I . . ." Makoto pleaded, but it was too late.

Makoto became acutely aware of the girl in front of him once he had departed the velvet room. She was dressed oddly in the attire of a male gakuran and a blue cap that hid her short blue hair, but the cap did not hide her piercing grey-blue eyes. You almost could not tell that she was a girl, but her eyes had a uniquely feminine shape that spoke the truth.

Those eyes were currently trained on him. There was rage in her gaze, but also fear. It was the look of an animal caught, forced to fight for its life. And they were focused solely on him. More important than her trained gaze was the gun she pointed at him. Something in her stance told him she knew how to use it too.

The sight brought back memories of his first encounter with Yukari. His legs shook at the memory, but the woman in front of him broke him out of his remembrance.

"I will repeat myself once more. I am a private detective, Naoto Shirogane, working with the Inaba Police department." Her deep voice was steady, but Makoto sensed a tinge of fear in her words, "First drop your firearm and then step away from the body."

It was only then that Makoto became aware of his surroundings. It must have been an early misty morning for the stars still twinkled dimly in a hazy dark blue sky, but the sun was shining past the horizon. He stood upon an old wooden dock that extended into a riverbed. Green, dew-ridden weeds extend up from the ground in the old wash. It could have been a peaceful morning on any other day.

Directly beneath Makoto inches from his feet was the head of an attractive woman embedded between the boards of the wooden dock. The body of the woman flowed without resistance with the tide of the river. Her body was only kept from being swept away by the slow current due to the two wooden boards that entrapped her neck. The woman by his feet wore a red kimono that was torn and the elegant hair tied high had loose strands that fought free. But it was the look on the woman's face that spoke the truth.

She was beautiful, but her face was twisted in fear and her eyes set impossibly wide. The woman was dead.

The look of death upon the body's face caused Makoto to retreat back a step in fear. In response Detective Shirogane fired and the bullet grazed past Makoto's arm drawing blood. Makoto fell to a seated position as the mix of adrenaline and the ringing in his ears held back the pain of the wound that had been opened.

"I said drop the weapon!" the young detective demanded once more. "I will fire to kill if I must!" The girl's voice quaked in fear, but the determination in her eyes held fierce.

Makoto realized then that in his right hand he held his evoker and not for the first time wondered why Mitsuru had chosen the form of a gun for their tool. Finally, realizing what the situation implied for him, Makoto spoke in panic. He stood quickly feeling the need to act. "I didn't kill her I swea . . ."

"Drop your weapon!" The detective growled one final time thrusting her own pistol in his direction to emphasize the point.

Makoto's evoker fell and hit the wooden dock with a soft thud as he placed his hand behind his head. "I'll cooperate. This isn't what it looks like."

"Step off the dock," the detective continued, "Then turn your back to me and get on your knees."

Makoto listened and as he fell to his knees Detective Shirogane placed him in hand cuffs and phoned for back up. The girl with the gun had gotten her man or so she thought.

Naoto Shirogane stared passively at the blue haired teen from behind the one-way mirror. He sat handcuffed to the table seated in a hunched manner and had a bored look on his face. He scratched lightly at the stitches that had sealed the wound she had given him. The boy could not have been more than a year her elder and certainly did not look the type that could murder multiple people. He looked careless perhaps, but he had no overt sense of malice about him.

Naoto knew better than most that looks could be deceiving and she had found him right at the crime scene just inches away from the newest victim. Misuzu Hiragi's life had been taken in the early morning of this day. She was now the third victim murdered in a ritualistic fashion. Taro Namatame the budding politician and Mitsuzu Hiragi's husband had been the first and a young Yasogami High school student, Mitsuo Kubo, had been the second.

Inaba's police chief had requested Naoto's services after the second death. It was the strange circumstances they had found the bodies in and the unexplained method of murder that drew her to the case. Taro Namatame had been found between the hood of a moving truck and its engine. Mitsuo had been found hanging from a Yasogami High school banner. Luckily the murder had occurred before the start of a new school year. But Inaba was a small town and word of the murders spread quickly. And now Misuzu Hiragi had been found guillotined between the wooden boards of the Samegawa flood plain's dock.

More importantly than the odd arrangement of the murder victim's bodies was the method of killing, or rather the lack thereof, Naoto was at a complete loss. All of the victim's bodies showed no signs of physical harm and the toxicology reports came back negative for any intoxicant. But the look on their faces spoke of something truly horrible and they haunted Naoto. If terror could kill then those faces were the wounds of such a death.

Naoto shook her head and rubbed at her eyes tiredly. That line of inquiry led nowhere and had no basis in reality. Guilt picked at her as she adjusted her blue cap. She had failed to prevent a third murder, but at least she had gotten a man. She observed the blue-haired boy once more as he yawned tiredly. Could this tired looking teen really be a serial killer?

She had deduced the next murder's time on a whim. The previous two had occurred on a foggy day after prolonged periods of rainfall. With a bit of luck, wit and a tireless pursuit of justice that had her patrolling Inaba day and night for the past three, had proven Naoto's theory correct.

She just wished she had arrived sooner. Still she had new information to work with, this teenager had an identification card on him and it named him as Makoto Yuki. Unfortunately the Inaba police department database could find no match. An unidentifiable identification card told her little and the weapon in perpetrator's hands told her less. The gun she had allowed to frighten her so much was not loaded. Furthermore it could not be loaded and was incapable of firing. It was nothing more than a toy. It was a very convincing toy, but a toy nonetheless.

A murder weapon incapable of murder and a culprit that could not be identified, perhaps she had not furthered the case. It was then that senior Detective Ryotaro Dojima and his new rookie partner Tohru Adachi entered the room and broke her musings.

Detective Dojima was a serious man with a tired demeanor, but he was a very capable detective and one of the few that took Naoto seriously and for that he had her respect. Detective Adachi on the other hand was young, carefree, kind and had annoying habit of say the wrong thing at the right time.

Dojima looked at her with a tired expression as he scratched at his unshaven face and took one last drag from his cigarette. The older Detective was well known for his favorite vice and lack of respect for no smoking signs. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but as usual it was Adachi who spoke first.

"Well, looks like it's another case solved for the Detective Prince," Adachi said in a happy manner that hinted at teasing. "You even got a shot off on the little bastard."

Dojima gave Adachi a light smack to the back of the head and told him to shut up. While Adachi nursed his wound Dojima addressed her. "Database came up empty and toxicology on the body came back negative for anything significant." Dojima put out his cigarette in an ash try. "You talk to him yet?"

Naoto shook her head. "I have not put him through a line of inquiry yet," Naoto paused wondering how her next sentence would be taken, "I wish to observe his reactions, while you two interrogate him. I understand if you find this presumptuous on my part, but . . ."

"It's fine," Dojima cut her off, "You caught him and were the only one to connect the murders to the weather." There was a kind smile on his face that rarely graced its presence. "As far as I am concerned we owe you that much."

A simple thank you was all Naoto managed in return.

"All right!" Adachi chimed in, "Leave it to me and Dojima. He'll come at him soft for a set up and then I'll hit him hard."

Dojima sighed.

Makoto Yuki had lost track of how long he had spent in the police department's interrogation room, but it must have been late into the night by his estimation. His ponderings were interrupted as two police officers entered the room. The older tired looking man introduced them.

"I'm Detective Dojima and this is my partner Detective Adachi." Dojima leaned up against the mirror and looked at him with an intimidating glare. "We're going to ask you a few questions and we would like you to answer them honestly."

Makoto nodded his consent and the younger detective that went by the name of Adachi took that as his opportunity to start despite his partner's annoyance at his antics.

"Why did you murder Misuzu Hiragi?" Adachi demanded with an almost comical angry expression and a slam of his fist against the table.

"Hmm?" Makoto answered in a dull fashion.

Detective Adachi frowned as his eyebrows scrunched and rose in confusion. "Huh, I thought that would go differently."

"Adachi," Detective Dojima growled as his partner backed away. As Adachi retreated to the window, Dojima sat at the table across from the teenager. Their suspect was too young to look so lifeless, the scruffy detective noted.

"Makoto Yuki, this is your name correct?" Dojima asked.

"Yes," Makoto answered.

"Your ID places you at fifteen years of age is this correct?"

"Yes."

Dojima nodded his head. "And what were you doing this morning at the Samegawa flood plain?"

Makoto paused. "I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't remember how I got there." Makoto answered honestly.

Adachi scoffed and looked his partner and then to Makoto. "Playing the amnesia card? That's kinda boring. Why don't we ever get the interesting psychos?"

Makoto answered back in bored annoyance at the implication. "You bored with plain old murder? Want me to be the type that kills for fun?"

"Do you kill people for the thrill of it? Do you just do things for the hell of it kid?" Adachi answered back with a concerned look.

Makoto felt something behind the young detective's concerned gaze that was less than a genuine concern and more of a curiosity. "You sound like the type that knows something about that." Makoto answered back returning to his uninterested demeanor.

Detective Adachi smiled in a funny way, but was interrupted by Dojima.

"That's enough both of you." Dojima growled, "Adachi get out of here."

The younger detective made a whimpering noise, but left the room.

"You'll be staying in here for a while. Here let me get you out of those cuffs."

The sound of the metal cuffs being released and returned to the Detective's belt filled the room. As Makoto rubbed at his sore wrists, Dojima began his line of questioning again. "Did you kill Misuzu Hiragi?"

Very little made it passed Dojima's experienced eyes and even less crossed Makoto's face, but there was something in the way the teen's face went from bored to blank that spoke to Dojima of guilt and loss.

"That depends," Makoto answered as he shrunk back into himself.

"Depends on what exactly?" The detective answered surprised by his answer.

"On who Misuzu Hiragi is."

"She was the woman found with you on the docks this morning."

"No, I didn't kill her." Makoto played with the chain of the handcuffs that held him.

"But you said you don't remember what you were doing at the flood plains?" Dojima continued.

Makoto fell silent incapable of answering.

Dojima decided to continue. "So you could have killed her and forgotten?"

"I didn't kill her . . . I wouldn't." The response sounded fragile even to his ears.

"Are you sure?"

The memories of his friends entered his mind and he looked away in shame. The silence was telling a truth that did not apply in this context, but it damned Makoto regardless.

Detective Dojima leaned forward his gaze piercing the boy. "I need you to answer honestly," The intense presence of the older man caused the boy to wince away. "What do you remember about this morning?"

"The first thing I remember is having that female detective pointing her gun at me." Makoto began.

From behind the one-way mirror Naoto's eyes widened in shock.

Dojima exited the interrogation room after a fruitless hour of questioning and rejoined them. The boy was firm in his story of not remembering anything before Naoto had apprehended him. Naoto had struggled to analyze the boy's responses after he had acknowledged her gender. She had gone to great lengths to maintain an image and this Makoto Yuki had seen through it in a moment. Dojima grunted breaking her ponderings.

"He must be out of his mind if he doesn't remember that Naoto brought him in," Adachi said with a confused look on his face. "He even made up an entirely new person."

"Adachi for the last time shut up." Dojima said with a final shout. He gave Naoto a funny look, but mercifully did not question her further. "Shirogane any thoughts?"

Naoto adjusted her cap shaking off the uncomfortable personal musings that ran through her mind. "Nothing of particular consequence. His facial profiling says little and he seems to have a natural lack of expression. The tone of his voice does not indicate any obvious lie. Although I claim no expertise in this particular field and I much prefer concrete evidence over psychological profiling."

Dojima grunted again considering her words. "The kid feels guilty about something."

"How do you know?" She asked.

"Call it a gut feeling." He said with a shrug.

"I think he is full of it." Adachi added innocently and then raised his hands in defense when Dojima looked tiredly at him. "I know, I know. Shut up Adachi."

Naoto decided to interrupt the exchange. "He will be held over night in interrogation?"

"Yeah I think that would be best. It's late and I need to get home to my daughter." Dojima scratched at his stubble. "Besides I don't think we'll get much more from him right now."

"Aww I thought we could all camp out here tonight," Adachi pouted, "Burning the mid-night oil solving the crime of the century. And we just got a brand new wide screen in the rec center!"

Naoto and Dojima ignored Adachi and continued speaking to each other. Adachi mumbled something disheartened and shuffled out of the room to return home.

"What about you?" Dojima asked.

"I will remain behind." Naoto answered, "I wish to observe him for a while."

Dojima stared at the short private detective for a moment before he nodded once and took his leave.

Naoto returned her seat and stared at her suspect unimpressed once more by the way he sat in a slouch. How had he known? The question permeated her thoughts and kept her from the case. She had been awake for too long and had achieved too little. Seconds passed and then minutes before sleep took her.

Makoto had decided to lie on the interrogation table an hour ago. He stared up at the incandescent light that filled the room. Apathy for his situation washed over him like the tides on a dreary grey shore. Had he been sent back to the past? No, Igor had mentioned the future and assured him of Nyx's victory. So then when or where was he? The mental energy used on this problem was wasted. He stopped trying to assess his situation.

What did it matter? He had killed a world and if the police wished to lock him up for a murder he did not commit, why fight it when there were so many others dead because of him. He should just sleep and yet sleep refused to claim him. He closed his eyes, but they refused to stay shut. His eyes opened and they stared into the room's light. He shut them once more, tightly this time, and again they refused to stay shut, but this time when they opened he saw only darkness. Makoto thought the police had shut the lights off on him, but in truth the building's power had gone out.

Minutes in the quiet dark passed, as Makoto lied silent upon the table. The loud banging against the interrogation room's door caused him to sit up in alarm. He stumbled towards the door, his eyes still adjusting to the dark. The door crashed open suddenly as he jumped back to avoid it. A leather-gloved hand wrapped itself around his neck and slammed him violently against the wall. It was then that he knew something was wrong.

As his eyes finally made their adjustment and returned him to limited sight he took in his aggressor's form. The hand choking him belonged to the form of a woman. She wore a biker's leather suit and the dark-tinted plastic of a motorcycle helmet covered her face. He slammed his fist against her arm's still disoriented by the blow he took against the wall. His wailing arms fought confusedly for freedom, but ceased once he felt the cool press of a gun against his forehead. For a moment his heart stopped and his pupil's dilated.

The women spoke and her voice was muffled and made harsh by the clash of her breath against the plastic of her helmet. "Cease your struggles and I will grant you peace, World-killer. Will you accept this gift?"

Makoto did not answer, but his body went still. The hand around his throat released him in response.

"You understand then." The masked woman said as she readied her gun.

Makoto closed his eyes instinctively, but the bullet never came. The girl detective that had apprehended him in the morning stormed into the room. In one hand she held a flash light and in the other a revolver aimed at the masked woman. For the second time today Naoto Shirogane readied her firearm to take a life.

"And what do you think you are doing with my suspect?" The young detective demanded.

The masked woman moved quickly, pulling Makoto against her chest and using his body as her shield. The barrel of her gun nudged itself against the side of his skull. Makoto noted that the woman was most likely shorter than him if not for the boots she wore.

"I am going to kill your suspect, detective-child." The muffled voice responded.

"I will not allow you to kill anyone." Naoto answered back placing herself in front of the door.

The woman holding Makoto hostage tilted her head as if confused. "Detective-child, your compliance in this matter is of no consequence. The Cult of Ada has demanded the World-killer's sacrifice. His blood will be offered on the Alter of You for the sake of all."

Naoto decided it was best not to engage the nonsense coming from the woman's mouth. "My revolver begs to differ on point of my suspect's life."

The masked woman gave a small laugh. "Your revolver is of some slight consequence. I will grant that much."

"You won't make it out of here." Naoto tried to reason. "There are other officer's here excluding me. Even with a hostage you will be apprehended."

The masked woman laughed fully now. "You mean the officer at the metal detector and the one down in the forensics lab? They have already been killed."

Naoto's eyes widened in shook, but she held her voice in check. "I do not believe that claim," she bluffed. "And regardless I have already called for back up. Detectives will be here in minutes."

"I would never lie about a life," She answered back, "But if we only have a few minutes before your back up comes . . . I suppose we should hurry this game along."

"Surrender now and let him go." Naoto demanded.

"I'm going to take a step forward, multiple actually, and if in response you do not take a step back I will put a bullet through his skull."

Naoto growled in response, but stepped back at each step the captor and hostage took forward.

Their dance continued at a slow stalking pace. One foot came forward and one foot retreated back. Naoto reasoned that all she needed to do was stall until Dojima and Adachi arrived. She stared into Makoto's eyes for a brief second and saw only defeat. He seemed resigned to his fate, but Naoto fought regardless.

Their slow steps echoed down the corridor of the police station. The masked woman seemed to know where she was headed and soon Naoto realized she was leading them to the recreation center. To what purpose this dance held, she did not know. There was no exit in that part of the building only an old weight lifting rack, an even older treadmill and a brand new wide screen television.

As they reached their destination the masked woman began circling the room with her back against the wall. Naoto turned her body accordingly ready to fire at a moment's notice. The masked woman stopped once she stood in front of the television and laughed quietly.

Naoto stepped forward only an arm's length away from Makoto. "Are you ready to surrender? You must realize your cause is lost."

"Actually, I have already won," came the response.

"Enough let him go!" Naoto shouted.

"Goodbye Detective-child." The masked woman taunted and fell backward towards the television with Makoto. Naoto instinctively dove after them and caught Makoto's ankle. They all fell into the television together.

AN: Some more world notes.

The Wild Cards: Continued

Yu Narukami

Age: 16

Persona: Magatsu-Izanagi and Thanatos

Arcana: Fool, Death

Weapon: Two-handed swords

Personality: Self-Realized, Playboy

Personality Flaw: Makes others feel inferior/ Callous naiveté / Understands himself, but does not understand others

Skills: Flirting / Multitasking / Too many others to list

Likes: Making Friends, Self-improvement, Doing Things, Doing Things with People . . . Doing People

Dislikes: Boring Activities, Inactiveness, Lazy people

Stats (1-5 scale):

Courage – 4

Charm – 5

Intelligence –3

Understanding –1

Expression – 4

Diligence – 3

Bonus Stat: Harem Building – 10

Bio:

Yu Narukami never had to face his shadow. Yu knows himself. It is a quality that makes him great. He accepts his flaws and does not shy away from them. Instead he forever strives for self-improvement. He is confident without being cocky. He is mature without losing the optimism that comes with being a child. He is a leader and never a boss. But Yu's greatest strength is his ability to inspire others and nurture their own personal development. So I took that last part away from him.

Yu is still a great guy, but now he lacks that nurturing quality that allowed others to grow around him. Without that his own ability to grow is diminished. Yu knows himself. He accepts himself and in fact he embraces his entire persona. But sometimes there are dark things inside one's self that should never be embraced. Accepted perhaps, but never embraced. Yu knows himself, but he cannot move passed himself to become something better. His growth is stagnant and his loved ones have suffered for it.

Yu Narukami murdered Taro Namatame. Not only had he murdered Namatame he had made his friends complicit in the act. He had tainted them and forever blinded them from the truth. He had failed to see the suffering in Taro Namatame. He only recognized the suffering within himself and that clouded his ability to see the truth.

Yu is not malicious, but he believes everyone has to find his or her own answers to the questions that life presents. Yu found his answer on his own. The problem is, it was the wrong answer. And a wrong answer is no answer at all. But the power of the Wild Card has granted him last chance and presented a final question. Hopefully he figures it out before Nyx kills everyone.

Finally, I wanted to thank everyone who has followed/favorite/alerted this story. I really appreciate it when I know I have people reading.

And a special thank you to Agemo5000. You have offered me my first review on this story and it does my heart wonders to read an actual response from someone. I am glad you find Makoto's situation interesting and I hope you will come to enjoy what I have planned for Yu.