Chapter 7
Procellarum (Storm)
They found her in a semi-conscious state. The flood from a water tap forgotten to be turned off sluicing red rivers around her veins. The first person to find her quickly pressed his fingers to the source of the pain and Fuuka was conscious enough to scream in pain. The first cut was easy. Too shallow, too fine. The edge of the cut was treaded in dark tints of blood and Fuuka thought that it wasn't enough.
She had to etch a more gruesome scene for Natsuki. Natsuki have to remember this for the rest of her life. So, she cut deeper. She practically ripped the larger vessels buried beneath her vestal, unmarkedly smooth skin. The blade crept without a doubt, snuggled closer under the tougher muscle but the trenches of pain like being plunged into an inferno stopped her. She couldn't handle the pain anymore and threw the blade from her side as she gasped and curled in a burning pain.
"Hey! Are you still conscious? Can you answer me?" faintly, she heard a distant voice. "Okay, your breathing is irregular so you have to calm down first. I've pressed your veins to stop the bleeding but I need your cooperation to not bite off your tongue," Fuuka felt herself nodded as the shame from letting a stranger saw her in this state was overwritten by her guilt to her parents. Fuuka bit back a heave as the searing pain entranced her. The stranger noticed Fuuka's state of half-undress. He took pity on her and undone his expensive-looking coat to cover her.
"Don't worry, I'm a doctor. I'll call the ambulance and carry you to my hospital right now," he pressed a dial and the middle-aged man jumbled out informations that Fuuka's disorganized mind couldn't catch. The man ended his call soon and retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket. The handkerchief acted as a temporary gauze.
Soon, the ear-shattering siren of an ambulance approached them and paramedics filled in the cramped public toilet. White-uniformed men lifted her up into a stretcher while the man who found her first gave instructions for her to breath calmly. The man turned around and picked up a syringe from a small container in the ambulance. He flicked the syringe a few times before he shot Fuuka with it.
And she welcomed oblivion with open arms.
That Yamagishi kid's empty eyes were the first thing he saw as he rudely scrapped off the door with his leg. It was frightening when you see it in someone usually so breakable. A doctor came to his hospital room a little bit later in the morning, knowing that he's a part of SEES to tell him that a series of test done on the Gekkoukan student they admitted a few days ago had confirmed a sleeping Persona within her. The doctor asked him to visit her as a precognized chance of inducing its presence. He guessed that they didn't even tell her what those tests are for.
Sick bastards, all of them.
The weak presence of a Persona from her was alarming. Someone like him who can't even sense a Persona for the life of him, to be able to see it briefly was a dangerous sign. Weak, but determined. Weird. He saw the unsummoned black mass of a Persona flickered in and out of existence. A shapely mass of a woman hung loosely above her even though the user didn't realize that. The Persona's on edge.
Desperate to protect its Mistress, huh?
The unstable Persona-user grinned. Shinjiro preferred to stand up rather than sitting on the available visitor chair as he crossed his arms. She seemed surprised of his visit and the empty void on her eyes was replaced by something akin to recognition. If the surprise and the implied underline that she didn't expect any visit told anything, no one had visited, apparently. Not even her parents. Hector's calm was unnerving now, after being used to the relentless stress to his psyche.
"You know me, brat?" he bit out rather unwillingly.
Yamagishi quipped lamely like the brat she was and Shinjiro snorted. As if he'll allow this kid to join SEES's frontline. Nope, not a chance.
"Yes, you... were the prefect who saved me back then," she hung her head low, as if expecting to be yelled at. Shinjiro tapped his toes impatiently.
"Spill. Now. Before the Pres herself comes here," he felt like threatening the girl, not so sorry that Mitsuru is already on her way to the hospital. "M-Mitsuru-san?!" he raised a questioning eyebrow at her reaction.
"Please don't tell her that I'm hospitalized! I don't want to be a burden," she said louder, her bloody left hand hidden behind the gauze. "You know what to do," he grumbled out and leaned back as he watched a silent war erupted within the small girl before she came into a decision.
"...Natsuki Moriyama," she said with a whisper. He uncrossed his arms, "Easy, right?" he marked with a mirthless laugh, his duty as a prefect ends here. He heard footsteps in the hospital hallway and knew that his visiting hour is up. Shinjiro walked out from the room.
"Thank you... Aragaki-san," He stared at her unmoving left arm and then looked to Yamagishi's eyes. The void returned.
" 's not a problem," he replied as he briefly wondered if he'd do the same and resort to self-destruction if those three weren't there.
He scoffed. He's not that weak.
Shinjiro closed the door with gentler force than before. The footsteps stopped and he was met with intense brown eyes, asking without prompted, "Do you get a name?"
He nodded, "Moriyama, prob'ly the same bully like the one I dragged out before. I'll get to it tomorrow" Mitsuru smiled, a hint of malice leaking through the heiress, "Then, let me be the one to carry out the execution. How dare anyone harmed one of my employees." With something resembling a smirk, Mitsuru waved at him and entered Kirijo Group's commissioned hacker's room.
Aki nodded to him "Well, let's wait how Mitsuru deal with this. It's been three days since we visited her. Hopefully she'll agree and we can find Minato faster," he sighed behind Mitsuru and left the hospital wing after she entered the room, letting her to deal with their potential recruit.
Shinjiro was left with Miki.
"...What did you do?" he clenched his ribs clothed beneath the flimsy hospital-issued white gown. Painless.
All he had seen during his fitful sleep was red.
Like blood. Like fire.
Like eyes that clenched shut in suffering.
The girl whose existence had been like a sister as long as he remember tilted her head in concern, a ruined earlobe partially seen through shades of quicksilver."Is something wrong? Are you hurt?" he narrowed his eyes.
Everything's wrong, everything's a fucked up chains.
Miki moved into his personal space and smiled as she eased his frown with her fingers. Surprisingly, her hands were blemish-free, unlike the rest of her thighs. "You won't get a girlfriend if you always glare at them, Shinji-san," she wrote as she seemed satisfied with her work. Nodding her consent, she fearlessly stuck a tongue at him before she ran after her brother. Scott-free. Lucky girl.
She seemed fine, from Mitsuru's eyes. Yamagishi tried in futile to hide the gauze as Mitsuru walked closer with a silver case in her hand. "How are you?" The twelve-years old hacker she met five years ago that successfully broke through Kirijo's database and promptly became Mitsuru's employee was reduced to a trembling mess. Mitsuru sighed, knowing that she probably won't get any answer soon.
"...You've signed the Confidentiality Contract a few years ago when you started to work for Kirijo Group, but this time we're asking for something different," she decided to push the issue. There's no time.
Mitsuru unlocked the silver case. A semi-auto pistol laid beautifully inside.
"You've been unconscious for days. During the time, the staff had done administrative check on you and found that you're my employee. That's how I know you're here, if you're asking," the girl remained silent.
"I'll be short. You knew what SEES are created for. The preliminary check-up for potentials showed nothing before," Mitsuru took out the Evoker and handed it to Fuuka. She stared at it before picked it up reluctantly.
"But now, you've been confirmed with a Persona. A rather... weird one, actually. I'm curious why you who didn't have the potential before was suddenly found with a Persona, although we have yet to determine its appearance" Mitsuru massaged the bridge of her nose as Penthesilea's senses overwhelmed her.
"I'm sorry if this seemed rushed, but we lacked manpower," she couldn't contact Minato through the earpiece anymore. Iori had persisted to explore Tartarus everyday since... Then. Everyday, when the Dark Hour crept, they returned to the 21th floor. Looking for signs, for traces of life. Seeing their weary, tired huffs of breath everyday made her wanted to forgo her Router position and joined them.
For a beat of midnight blue-haired teen that even Penthesilea's senses couldn't reach.
"We were ambushed and one of SEES members is missing till now." She wasn't sure if Yamagishi heard the despair in her voice, "We need all help we could get." She said with a finality as she glanced at her wristwatch, she'd need to prepare her equipments for tonight's search.
"I'll give you more time to think about it."
As the heiress left, she bowed politely to a figure standing outside the door and walked away after she left the silver case on the sparse coffee table. The gun was close, she could reach it if she wants to. She felt a grin above her, within the proximity of a hair's breadth, slowly guiding her hand towards the case. A drop of blood from the reopened wound made her flinch, but didn't falter. Fuuka looked up to see a hapless woman.
Slit marks covered its arms.
Waiting.
Call me.
Stay with me.
Fuuka touched her neck, now bloody with the reopened wound from the slitted arm. The silver gun on her other hand.
She have to pull the trigger.
"Yamagishi-san, time for checkup! Today I brought my son-"
" Oh bloody-!" a rush, rising heartbeats, unending blood that rained like a water gate.
"-Kei! Hold her up!" stained Gekkoukan uniform, broken glasses, panicked brown eyes. She didn't resist their hold, letting them put back the gun and stitched the open wound with glazy eyes.
Fuuka had calmed down after the doctor who found her in that public toilet shot another dose of sedative. The woman had disappeared from her line of view. Somehow, she knew that the gun wouldn't harm her. Somehow, she knew that the woman wants her to call it.
Feeling delirious due to the sedative, she glanced skittishly and saw them talked in a hushed tone. They noticed her gaze and the doctor left them alone. A relieved sigh erupted from the boy, whom she knew to be a senior when she saw his tie ribbon. "I'm Keisuke Hiraga, your doctor's son. Ah, no need to talk, I knew your name already" he said as he pulled a chair over. He talked again without being asked, "I usually visit the hospital whenever Photography Club doesn't have a meeting, he wants me to succeed this hospital," the senior said rather grumpily.
He saw the stitched wound he dressed a few minutes ago and moved closer, "Can I see?"
Fuuka was bewildered, the hypersensitive wound too real to be ignored. But only distracted, slow motions she could give in her state. He took Fuuka's silence as a yes and turned her arm, bringing the hideous slit into attention. He touched the paler side of the healing tissue. "You're supposed to not feel the pain right now. My dad had shot another dose of benzodiazepine. Only a small dose, though" he said as he traced the thin line of stitching thread.
He went into a lecture of sedatives, explaining the difference in doses and the effects, even to the sedative effect of chamomile tea and why people felt calmer after each sip. Chamomile tea, of all things. God.
"-So, based on the physiology of human brains, the reason of your... action, stemmed from boredom," he finished with a flourish.
"Huh?" Boredom? It has became a routine of living, right? School, bullying, work, home. Rinse and repeat in a continous circle. It had simply became natural.
"Well, all I say is that you need a hobby!" Keisuke-senpai said with an excited smile. As if it'll cure something that had became a normalcy.
"It won't cure you, but you'll cure yourself," he nodded determinedly. Had everyone suddenly being able to read her?
"It's a start, but you're welcome to the Photography Club once you returned to school," Keisuke coaxed the unwilling girl. To pull her out of that dangerous thought. His visits to the hospital had brought out the mortally hopeless side of humanity. Incurable patients resorted to suicide, unborn babies that died too soon, the jolt of a defibrillator tried in vain to resuscitate a man. No matter how much he learn, no matter how many medicine names he remember, it's useless.
That, he knew.
Keisuke ripped out a paper from his notebook neatly and wrote the direction to the club room. He's not confident in his penmanship, but at least anyone could read his writing with enough willpower and persistence, "You know the sport club area, right?" the unresponsive girl stared at him with confusion.
"If the sport club area turn right from the second year's floor staircase, you go left from the staircase and enter the room in the right side with many pictures on the door. That's our club," he folded the paper in two and gave them to the girl, or at least put it on her sterile blanket. Fuuka sensed an encouraging smile for the woman above her.
"Ah, now that I remember, you're from class 2-E, right?" he pondered, that guy next to her class hasn't showed up after he joined the club. What happened?
"If you know Minato Arisato from 2-F, please tell him that his first shot had developed. He's been absent for days." he waved with a smile and closed the door, leaving the patient to sleep. He didn't notice her rigid posture.
The next day, Mitsuru returned, bringing a silver-haired senior with her next visit. And a shock of familiar face. "Hi, Fuuka Yamagishi, right?" the senior outstretched a hand and Fuuka shook his with her good arm, the guy behind him sat in the chair, not even bothering to greet anyone. "I'm one of SEES, Akihiko Sanada," he said as he threw an apple to the air with his left hand, purple bruises marred his exposed arms and face, similar to Iori-san.
"Iori...san?" Fuuka called out. His face whipped out to met her. " ...'Sup, fancy to meet you again," he said tiredly. He sighed, "Man, I'm beat. Everyone that knew Minato nagged at me or Yuka-tan about Minato. That guy, making everyone worried. Where the hell is he," he said briskly.
Mitsuru put a basket of fruit on the table, "What did you tell them?" she picked up the knife that came with the basket and skillfully crafted rabbits from Akihiko-senpai's apple.
"Told 'em he's in the hospital outside town. Kaz didn't believe me when I said that he's sick. The guy's probably beaten up into a puddle by him. Ha! Serves him right," he replied as he took a slice of the rabbit in the plate. Mitsuru-san swatted his hand away and he sullenly returned to his chair.
He counted out loud, "Kenji, my bro in the go-home club and that shy girl asked too. Then there's the manager of Kendo Club, Shinjiro-senpai's vice-chief, that French samurai, the Gourmet King, a coupla old bunch from the bookstore, I'm surprised they knew me even tho' we only passed by that bookstore once. Hell, even a little kid asked about him."
The woman above her whispered, things that she wasn't supposed to know, "...What happened to him?" Fuuka found her voice asked.
Akihiko-senpai turned to her, his expression serious, "That's why we're asking you to lend your power to SEES. He's missing,"
"...Will you join us?" the well-seamed words were unheard.
Her thoughts screeched to a halt. In return, a strong, turbulent wave of sights and voices hit her violently. Blue filled her eyes.
Yes, let me tell you-
Misty, endless sea of stars prevented her to grasp forward. Close-eyed, what Fuuka saw wasn't the railings on the hospital bed. Plug-eared, what Fuuka heard wasn't the distinct cries of the wolves of reality. A tower, in the brink of its fall. Screaming at her to flee far away. The shouts frighten her, the circling maze of continuity chuckled at her. Escorting souls of the damned and the brave. The silver gun cocked to her temple. Mortality mocked her. The gun was real. That woman was real.
Delusion is, perhaps, an easy route to insanity.
Fuuka embraced the insanity. The woman's presence within a hair's breadth was calming.
She nodded.
-My name.
Author Note:
· I wanted to experiment how Fuuka joined the art club, in which it'd be Photography Club. And if you cracked the binary code a few chapters ago, you'd find that Fuuka's employer is the Kirijo Group.
· Benzodiazepine and chamomile tea are confirmed calming agents and are legally sold. Don't try dangerous stuffs, okay?
· I need a Beta *sigh* How's the story flow? Needs advice, badly.
Thanks for reading :)
