04/08
Wednesday,
Early Morning.
One day until the Full Moon.
"Hey, are you awake?" Makoto looks away from staring intensely into his mirror toward the door where the voice came from. He doesn't know why he was doing it, only that he did it for longer than necessary. "We should probably head out soon if we're gonna make the monorail."
Makoto doesn't respond.
"Uh, Yuki-kun? At least cough or something, so I know you're there."
So far, Takeba-san hasn't given him any reason to be a dick. If he's being honest, nobody here has given him a reason to dislike them. Might as well say something.
"I can find my way. Don't worry about me."
Takeba-san sighs in relief. "Well, I was asked to lead you there, but if you plan to leave early, I won't stop you. Anyway, I gotta finish waking up Kotone. She's not really a morning person. If I don't see you, have a good first day, Yuki-kun."
"Yeah," Makoto replies. "Right. Thanks.
"Later~!" She says as the beat of her footsteps gets further and further down the hall.
He then spins around and walks over to his bed, where his school bag and MP3 await him. Makoto picks up the music player and loops the lanyard around his neck. The headphones come next, cupping Makoto's ears like the embrace of an old friend. Already, it feels better to have them on.
He looks down at the MP3 with a light grin and clicks the start button.
Guitars fill his surroundings, then the beat of the bassline. A woman sings. Dreamless dorm, Ticking clock.
He picks up his bag and moves to the door with a spring in his step. Time for school.
Here's hoping it goes by fast. The hall is empty when he locks his door with the key he received the night before. Using that lack of people to his advantage, Makoto adds a pirouette to his movements, spinning three-hundred and sixty degrees as he saunters across the hall.
The music blasts within his ears as he stomps down the stairs. It puts a beat in his footfalls, almost dancing his way toward the exit of the dorm. But he'd never call it that. Dancing is for nerds, and Makoto considers himself not one of those. Music has always been Makoto's way of escaping and expressing his feelings. When there's a smash of audio masking the dull sounds of everyday life, it makes living almost bearable.
Nightly dance of bleeding swords—
Reminds me that I still live—
Makoto loves this part. He pauses his griping of the door handle to enunciate the metaphysical drop that's about to take place. A drum solo, then a heavy focus on the vocals coerces a grin of excitement onto Makoto's typically deadpan face.
I will Burn my Dread!
The door flies open with the force of his tug, and a bright, sunny day caps off everything he's feeling right at this second. Today might be alright, after all.
~Death is the end. Death is the end. Death is the end.~
Makoto can see the school over the hill, like a gleaming tower of awe. The walk to Gekkoukan isn't nearly as bad as he expected, and the ride on the Monorail is super relaxing. It has some gorgeous views of the harbour. Tatsumi-Port is a nice area, and all the hidden back alleys are just that; hidden. You're not gonna run into a shit crowd unless you look for them.
Overall, the city is friendly. It's new and modern, definitely a far cry from the town he lived in before.
The streets are speckled by roaring cars, speeding past him as they make their ways to work or class. The sidewalks are also pretty sparse, except for a few other students dressed as he is.
The uniform is spiffy. Clean and sleek, just like the school.
Meh.
Before reaching the crest of the concrete hill, a familiar girl's voice calls out to him, audible through his headphones.
Maybe he should get noise-cancelling ones.
He removes the left side and turns with his hands buried in his pockets with a sigh.
"Shiomi-san."
"I-I was gonna walk with you!" Kotone runs over, waving her hands as she huffs and puffs. "Why didn't you wait for me?!"
"Takeba-san said you were still sleeping." He says. "I didn't think it really mattered."
"Well, it did!" Kotone points her finger at him. "I wanted to show you around."
"I don't care."
"You should." She grunts and begins walking. Makoto moves to follow. "It's not good to rush things, Mako—er, Yuki-kun. You gotta stop and smell the roses."
"Where's Takeba-san?" He doesn't respond to her prior statement or even acknowledges it. Makoto doesn't really care where she is, but it's something that'll change the subject.
"Beh." Kotone sticks her tongue out at him. "She's coming now. She should be—"
"Jeez, Kotone…!" The telltale whine of the pink-clad girl fills Makoto's left ear and Kotone's right. "Why are you always running…?! I… I hate it!"
Yukari stops as soon as she reaches them, panting and holding her hands on her knees to catch her breath. "H-hey, Yuki-kun…"
"Yo," Makoto says.
The trio begins the final trek toward the school. It's not much further; it only took five or six minutes. When they arrive at the gates, Makoto's greeted by fierce glares from boys and looks of intrigue by whatever girl decides to spare him a glance.
Shit. Are Shiomi and Takeba the idols of their grade? So much for not standing out. What a dumbass, walking to school with two of the most popular girls. How the heck was Makoto supposed to know that?
"Damn." He mutters under his breath.
"Hmm?" Yukari must have heard because she looks back, causing Kotone to do the same. "What's wrong?"
"Yuki-kun?" Kotone inquires.
"Nothing." He grunts.
It really is gonna be a long year.
—
Makoto stares for an awfully long time at the class assignment board. He can't find his name. It's the third time he's tried.
"You're sure you got everything handed in, right?" Takeba tepidly asks from his side. "The paperwork? Your ID? Everything?"
"Yeah."
"Yuki… Yuki…" Shiomi mutters, scanning the list over and over for the names. "There's three Yuki's in the second year and six Makoto's, but no Makoto Yuki."
"At least we're in the same class again, Kotone." Yukari grins at her friend and points to their names. "2-E. Miss Toriumi is our homeroom teacher. I heard good things about her last year."
Have the two of them seriously been looking at the second-year bulletin this whole time?
"Really? I heard she was kind of a weirdo—"
"I'm in my third year." Makoto interrupts.
"What?" Both girls squeak.
"I'm a senior—Ah!" His sudden outburst shocks them, but he doesn't pay them any mind. Makoto found his name. Pointing at it, he reads out who his teacher is. "Mister Edogawa. Cool, 3-F."
And with that, Makoto spins and walks away, off to the third floor. He leaves the two dumbfounded and confused girls behind without caring that he just dropped a massive bomb of realization upon them.
—
"My name is Makoto Yuki." The boy stood in front of the class, pressed against the chalkboard with hands in his pockets after Mister Edogawa's introduction. "I hope we get along."
The class is surprisingly small. Maybe fifteen people in the room, all looking serious and dutiful. At the front, a familiar redhead sits straight as an arrow. She smiles and bows her head in recognition when she catches his gaze. Directly behind her is a silver-haired dude with a bandage on his forehead and bulked arms visible through his uniform.
A meathead, Makoto guesses.
"Please be nice to Mr. Yuki on his first day." The weirdly skinny teacher scratches the back of his head as he speaks. His unshaven face is weirdly punctuated by the clean white of his lab coat. Mr. Edogawa turns to Makoto, grinning strangely. "If you run into any problems throughout the year, don't hesitate to bug me. Your energies are cool. I don't mind lending you a hand."
"Yes, sir." Makoto dully replies. Energies?
"You can take the empty seat next to Sanada. Right behind Miss Kirijo."
"Ah, but this is Shinji's—" The boy Makoto assumes to be Sanada replies.
"Aragaki isn't here, so his seat's free game." Mr. Edogawa cuts in. "I can feel his presence connected to it, but Yuki'll mask it with his. Sorry, Sanada."
"Tch, whatever." Sanada grunts. Over it in an instant, it seems.
With one final look at his teacher, who nods reassuringly, Makoto shrugs and walks over to his new seat.
Kirijo-san doesn't spare another glance in his direction as he passes, focused on the teacher about to begin his lesson, and Sanada-san stares out the window.
Cool. Makoto can work with this. The fewer people that try to be his friend, the better.
Lunch
"So, the culmination of dark age magics coinciding with the creation myths of both Christianity and Shinto—"
The bell rings, stopping the long-running lecture from its hopefully eventual climax. Makoto's slowly but surely realizing that Mr. Edogawa can drone on about the most inane subjects.
"Ah—!" The teacher jumps while all of his students gather their belongings as fast as possible. "And we were just getting to the good stuff, too…"
"Yuki," Kirijo speaks for the first time since class started. Makoto jumps, not expecting her to suddenly be right in front of his desk. How the hell did she even get over here?
"Whuh?"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." She says, crossing her arms and jutting out her hip. "I simply wanted to get acquainted. I'm Mitsuru Kirijo. I had no idea you, me and Akihiko would all be in the same class. How interesting."
Makoto raises an eyebrow. "Akihiko?"
"That's me." A voice replies from behind him. He turns, seeing the grumpy meathead from before staring at him with his head resting in his hand. "Nice to meet you. Sorry about earlier. I'm not really a morning person."
"Eh," Makoto replies. That's all he says, and the conversation dies there.
The three of them stew in the silence for a bit. Kirijo-san bites her lip, probably looking for something to say when Sanada-san clears his throat.
"W-well, why don't we get something to eat?" He tries to put on an easy grin. It's forced. Makoto bets he's still pissed about him taking Aragaki's seat. "We can get to know each other. After all, we're gonna be living in the same dorm, and I'd like to learn your eating habits—"
"Nah, I'm good." Makoto interrupts, pushing out of his seat and standing up. Wow, Kirijo-san is surprisingly shorter than he thought. She's at least a head smaller than Makoto. Plus, she's wearing boots. Something about her makes her seem taller. "Later."
He walks off, heading for the exit. Now's a good time to get a lay of the school.
"Sheesh, and I thought you were cold." Makoto hears Sanada sigh behind him.
"Indeed. He's more unfriendly than I expected."
Meh. Upon exiting the class, Makoto begins his quest to find the food. God, he hates school. Especially all the students, people getting too close, up in his space.
Ugh. Makoto tries as hard as he can to keep everyone around him at an arm's length, but the torrent of teenagers makes it astoundingly difficult. He gets elbowed in the side, some girl steps on his shoes and a guy almost trips him.
This sucks.
Finally reaching the stairs, Makoto breathes out in relief. Climbing down, he avoids yet another line of teens and touches down on the second floor. This seriously sucks. He's already exhausted.
"Yuki-kun—Er, Senpai!"
Goddammit.
"Hey! How's your first day going?" Shiomi-san runs over, carrying an armful of bread and snacks.
"Fine." Makoto chuffs.
"Just fine?" She giggles. "C'mon, help me carry this junk. I'll share it with you."
"Nah, I—"
"Don't be antisocial." Shiomi scolds with a smile. "Let's go out in the courtyard~!"
"Ugh." How she manages to pull him along with her arms full is unknown to Makoto, only that she does it with surprising speed and efficiency. Shiomi-san ducks away from crowds, nimbly avoids lineups and cuts through groups of idle students.
She waves and smiles at what seems like everyone she passes, replying to any questions about her day's going and if she's free after school. Shiomi-san really is popular. With boys and girls alike.
"Heya, Ko-tan!" A boy jumps out in front of them, halting Shiomi's stride with his lanky body. Makoto takes in his appearance mainly out of spite. He just wants to get whatever Shiomi-san wants over with already.
The boy wears the same uniform as them but unbuttoned and loose, with a baseball cap atop his head.
And a goatee. Is he Senior? Makoto can't grow any facial hair.
"Junpei, hey!" She replies, evidently not as miffed as he is for the interruption. "Are you getting lunch, too? Wanna come along?"
Huh, he must not be a Senior, then. Either that or Shiomi really does have a bad habit of using first names. But god, don't invite him. It's bad enough that he has to deal with her, but another person he doesn't know?
Junpei must have caught onto Makoto's emanating feelings because he gives the boy a weird look.
"This is the new Senpai, right?" He tepidly asks, looking Makoto up and down. "I'm, uh… cool. I think Kenji's free, so imma go hang with him."
"Oh…" Shiomi says. "Alright. I'll see you later, then."
"See ya." He replies, sauntering off with another unsure glance back at Makoto.
"Does he like you?"
"Who, Junpei?" Shiomi asks, surprised he spoke. "I dunno, probably. A lot of guys like me. Why?"
"You just answered my question," Makoto replies dryly with a roll of his eyes. At least she isn't dense.
"What?" Kotone blinks. "When?"
Scratch that. She's got an ego, then.
—
I never felt like; so miserable
Makoto enters the mall everyone around town is talking about. Paulownia, he thinks it's called. When he enters the threshold, he's blown away by the figurative atmosphere of this place. It's pretty cool, very blue. The pearl of Port Island really fits as a subtitle.
Whistling out, he takes in his surroundings. There are a few different pop-up stores, but they aren't very interesting. However, when he reaches the main promenade, that's where Makoto's breath is taken away. Three beautiful fountains, spitting crystal clear water that shines like diamonds.
"Woah." He mutters.
When stars're smiling at the moon, wonder how they look in your eyes
Makoto takes in the sights, spinning around to make sure he doesn't miss a thing, when a red store with a massive speaker steals all of his attention.
"Holy shit." He grunts, grinning at the sight. "There's a place I wanna be."
Makoto sprints toward the music venue, immediately skidding to a stop as he reaches the record section. He picks through the discs, flicking his fingers along the edges as he looks for a name that vaguely tickles his fancy.
Just dialling your number, failing to press the last two
Iwatodai doesn't seem quite so bad anymore. The store's quiet enough, and they have a pretty solid selection. Gripping tightly upon a Lotus Juice LP, he moves up to the register, where a girl with purple-dyed hair and piercings checks her black painted nails. Makoto removes his headphones, letting the music blare out to the world.
"Is that everything?" She asks with an uncaring drawl.
"Mh." Makoto grunts in affirmation.
"Seventeen hundred yen, please."
That catches him by surprise. Records are way more than that. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," She says, finally looking at him. "I used my employee discount."
"Oh," He says. "Huh."
He hands her the money and leaves. His headphones immediately fall back around his ears.
Can't help thinking of you! Up in the sky seeing the moon's reaching starts—if you hold me tight!
Makoto heads for the exit before his eyes catch toward his left. Where a blue light steals every inch of his attention. A sharp but faint crushing sound reverberates within his ears, even past the trawling beat of his music.
Feeling your heartbeat so close, will this last long?
Huh. That's a little weird. Makoto shrugs, deciding it might be better to head back to the dorm early today. Maybe he's tired.
—
"Welcome back," Kirijo-san says upon noticing Makoto's entrance. "You're home late. Did you get lost?"
"No," Makoto replies, lugging his bag and walking toward the stairs.
"Oooh~ what's in the bag, Yuki-senpai?" Shiomi-san irritatingly saunters over, reaching for his school bag. "Anything pervy?"
"Music." He pulls it away, walks past her and climbs up the stairs.
Time to check out if his record player still works.
—
Kotone watches Yuki-Senpai stomp up the stairs and out of sight. She sighs, throwing a hand over her face. She always knew Makoto was shy, but now he's just plain unfriendly. From what Mitsuru-Senpai said earlier, he really had changed when she arrived at the dorm. It's been ten years, but to change that much?
Is he even the same boy she knew all those years ago?
"So, you're positive this is the same Makoto Yuki?" Mitsuru-senpai strikes up a conversation as she sips her cup of tea. "I don't think he's much of a team player."
Kotone groans and walks over to the sofa. She falls into it with a sigh. Her head screams, begging for a cure. She can't just yet, it's too early in the day, and her Senpai are all still awake, so Kotone settles on massaging her temples.
"He wasn't always like this." She states. "Senpai, how was he in class?"
"Uh," Mitsuru thinks for a second. "Unremarkable. He didn't say anything, but he was awake for all of Mister Edogawa's lectures, which is surprising in and of itself. When Akihiko offered to have lunch with him, he outright refused." She chuckles slightly. "I believe that bruised his pride."
"Heh, poor Sanada-Senpai." Kotone smiles. Then sighs again. "He doesn't remember me."
Mitsuru's cup clatters against her saucer plate atop the coffee table.
"You know what the Dark Hour does and its side effects. It could be a memory lapse. You and Takeba asked him the question, right?"
"Of course." Kotone straightens out. "When we asked if he saw anything weird, he just said; 'Nothing out of the ordinary.'"
"Hmm. Interesting." The older girl says. "We'll know by tomorrow night if he truly has the potential. Either way, that's where his true self will show."
"Ugh, true self indeed." She groans this time. "Your jokes are always hilarious, Senpai."
"Hmm? Joke?"
—
Makoto sits atop his bed, bouncing his leg to the beat of the music. It's a pretty sweet album, and his record player still has some good sound. He was a little afraid that the move would wreck it. Makoto was prepared to buy a new one, but he's okay with what he has.
His eyes are drawn to the roof of his new room, the white popcorn looks pretty interesting, but that isn't precisely what caught his attention. There's a small pinhole camera in the corner to the left, over a fair attempt to camouflage it with a light fixture. The problem is that the red recording signal is visible behind the porcelain glass when it's dark.
So they're watching him, huh? Makoto guesses that means he can't masturbate.
Any second now, midnight's gonna kick in, and he's looking forward to that extra hour of sleep he's gonna get.
~Death is the end. Death is the end. Death is the end.~
Makoto reawakens to the sound of rushing wind in his ears and a hell of a lot of blue. He shakes off some of the drowsiness and realizes he's in a chair, and a clock takes up his vision. The rushing sound makes sense, as he fully comprehends at that moment that he's in an elevator, heading up toward some place he can't understand.
"The fu…" He mutters, looking down at the seat. The back of it is… a lyre? "Is this a dream?"
"Indeed." A kindly old voice scares the absolute shit out of Makoto. He jumps, almost falling out of his greek instrument-shaped chair. He looks over to the sound, frantically trying to figure out who's in here with him and why they can speak. A man, and a woman, stand behind a large circular table. The man has an absurdly long nose, and the woman is clad in an azure gown that matches the room.
What the hell is going on?
"Welcome to the Velvet Room, my dear young man." The man with the nose sits in a luxurious blue seat, accompanied by the beautiful blue-clad woman on his left. She and his hair are both silver like Akihiko's. In the old man's case, probably from age, while hers must be natural. Makoto doesn't know what to do, so he remains still and silent. "I am Igor, and this is Elizabeth."
The woman smiles, her straight and elegant features not at all matching the strange crawl of her voice. "Pleased to meet you."
"Why am I here?" Makoto finally speaks. "What is this?"
"You signed the contract," Igor replies, his grin unceasing as he gestures down at the familiar red duotang from the night prior. "So long as you abide by your end of the deal, our assistance is free for your advantage."
"What assistance?"
The man laughs, not out of malevolence but humour. At least, Makoto hopes it's humour. "You carry a gift. What you wield is something known as the Wildcard. You are the Fool — The number zero. Empty, but filled with infinite potential."
An oxymoron?
"We here will help you along your journey. Here, take this." A key is pushed with an invisible wire in front of Makoto across the table. "Be careful not to lose it."
Makoto hesitantly picks it up, gazing at it and feeling the smooth velvet it's coated with. Freaky. Velvet Room is opened with a Velvet Key?
"And for now, I bid you adieu." Igor bows slightly in his chair. "Until we meet again."
His eyes grow heavy, and Makoto falls heavily back into his slumber.
Upon awakening back in his bed to the sound of trilling birds and the sunlight peeking through his curtains, a blue key rests atop his sheets.
"What the hell…?"
—
04/09
After School
Thursday
Full Moon.
"Hey, Yuki." Makoto feels Sanada-san grip his shoulder as he moves to exit the class. "Come with me."
"I'm busy—" He says as he spins around and brushes off his hand.
"Already?" Sanada-san smiles. "Class just ended, and I wanna get some food. C'mon, it's my treat. Hagakure is amazing."
"Ugh."
—
Hagakure.
"Here, add some ginger," Akihiko says, piling more and more seasoning atop Makoto's ramen bowl as he munches away at his own. "Oh, and don't forget the egg. If you finish the bowl before it cooks, you get a prize. This place rocks, man."
"Nnh." Makoto grunts as he breaks apart his chopsticks and digs in. Slurping up a noodle, his eyes widen, and an involuntary moan of delight escapes his lips. "Holy shit."
"Heh, right?" Akihiko laughs. "The first time I came here, I was maybe eleven years old. My buddy, Shinji, he's here almost every day and has been ever since. We used to eat here all the time, together." Akihiko slurps up another noodle. "Me, him and Miki—"
Sanada-San stops on a dime, his body freezing with his words. Makoto looks over, pausing his own eating.
"Sorry, I—" Akihiko mutters. "This never happened before. A-anyway, we should keep eating. It's gonna get cold."
"Mmh."
Suddenly, a crash, like the sound he heard vaguely yesterday in Paulownia, resounds like a gong within his ears. An unfamiliar voice speaks about bonds and journeys, similar to what Igor was talking about the night before.
"Thou shalt be blessed when creating Persona's of the Star Arcana."
What the hell is this supposed to be? A bond? Makoto didn't even talk to the guy.
"You okay?" Akihiko asks. "What's up?"
Makoto shakes his head. "It's… Nothing. I'm fine."
The silver-haired boy stares at Makoto strangely, giving him a critical once-over before shrugging.
"Make sure you eat up. Tonight might be…." Sanada-san slurps up some more ramen. "Intense? I dunno, Mitsuru's got a bad feeling, and I've learned to take her gut pretty seriously. Either way, get your fill in."
That perks Makoto's attention. What's he mean by that? 'A bad feeling,' indeed.
"Ah, damn! My egg got cooked!" Akihiko punches the table.
Sanada-san is a kind of a weirdo.
—
Late Night
Makoto awakens to the sound of someone smashing their hand on his door. It's frantic, forcing the boy out of bed and onto the floor as he tangles himself up in the clothes he threw on the carpet earlier in the night. He stumbles back up to his feet, pulling his shirt over his head and opening the door.
"What? It's like—!"
"To-chan, we gotta go!" Kotone pulls him out of his room by the arm and leads him down the hall. Takeba is beside her, looking just as frantic as her friend.
"The hell is going on?" He asks, confused by what's happening.
"There's a big shadow downstairs that broke Sanada-senpai's arm!" Takeba-san spits out like a torrent of water. "We're heading for the back exit and getting out of here!"
Shadow? Akihiko's arm?
The two girls lead him down the stairs and back into the living room. They enter the kitchen, passing the fridge and the table. It's dark and green. Is it the Hidden Time? What the heck is a shadow? When they reach the exit, Takeba checks her pockets for something.
"C'mon, Yukari!" Kotone urges. "You just had them! They're gonna get in any second now!"
"I-I'm trying! Don't rush me!"
"Are you two going to tell me what the hell is happening right now?!" Makoto pulls his hand out of Shiomi's, clenching his fists in frustration. "Is this a joke?!"
Some kind of 'new-meat hazing' the dorm cooks up for laughs? It's not funny. Makoto really, really likes his sleep, and 'they're keeping him from getting that precious eight hours. Someone is going to pay.
The girls share a look before something big and heavy smashes into the emergency exit, almost taking it off the hinges with force. They yelp out, Yukari throws her hands over her face, and Shiomi jumps away.
"What was that?!" Makoto shouts. "I swear to god, if that's Sanada out there, I'm gonna kick someone's—"
"It's not a joke!" Kotone yells. "That shadow just blocked our only means of escaping!"
"What's a shadow?"
Takeba puts her hand on her ear and shushes Kotone and Makoto. "S-Senpai?! You're both okay, right?!"
Makoto looks over at Kotone, who copies Takeba-san. Groaning, Makoto throws his arms in the air and walks away from the two. Deciding he has nothing better to do, he opens the fridge to check if there's anything to munch on. Maybe he should have taken Sanada's advice and filled up before heading back to the dorm.
"What do you mean it's not the same one?!" Shiomi all but screeches. "What the hell just smashed into the back door?!"
Makoto snags an apple before he's tugged once again by Yukari this time. He groans as she leads him once again up the stairs. The three runners hustle up the spiralling staircase, climbing until they reach whatever their goal is. When a passing window and view steal all of his attention, Makoto takes a bite of the apple. He stops in place, causing Yukari to stumble at the recoil of his sudden halting.
"Woah, the moon…." He says with a mouthful of fruit. The awe of the sight causes him to fumble his grip on the apple, and it tumbles down the stairs. Meh. It's far less encapsulating than the bright, incandescent beauty of that sick-looking orb, sitting like an uncaring ruler above all its subjects.
It's full. And massive, taking up what looks to be the entirety of the night sky.
Takeba-san, seemingly out of patience, yells at him. "Snap out of it! Our lives are in danger! Do you want to die?!"
Makoto slowly looks over to her, his face a mask of apathetic passivity as the building shakes from whatever it is they're all running from. Shiomi-san stands up a little higher on the stairs than Yukari, looking down with fear and the same kind of impatience as Takeba-san.
"Does it matter?" He replies back. When all the girls do is jolt at his question and confusedly share a gaze, Makoto continues. "Are you both that scared of dying? Why?"
"To-chan, what—?"
Before either girl can question the boy's meaning, a face slowly peeks its head into the window, covering Makoto's view of the full moon. His eyes widen, and he shuts them for a second to make sure what he's seeing is real. When they open again, he sees one of its many tentacle-like arms reels back for a punch.
"Is that a shadow?" Makoto asks, pointing at the face. Or… mask? With roman numerals on the forehead?
"Huh?" Yukari looks over. She doesn't get to answer before the monster thing shatters the window with its appendage. Makoto jumps away while the girls shriek at the sudden intrusion.
Instinct takes over — fight or flight. Makoto looks to his right and spots a fire extinguisher. He's never used one before, so instead of readying the nozzle and spraying it at the many reaching arms and face. He bashes it in the mask with a loud metallic clang — catching it off guard and causing the thing to shriek in pain like that one movie with the shapeshifting alien. Using the stunning moment to get up toward the girls, Makoto sprints past the monster, grabs both Kouhai by the hand and leads them back up the stairs to wherever their destination was before this happened. The extinguisher is left at the crime scene, with a massive face-sized dent at the bottom.
"H-Holy shit, Yuki-Senpai!" Yukari, amazed by the scene, commends. "That was… wow!"
"Keep those legs moving, Takeba," Makoto responds. "We aren't safe yet."
"Quick thinking, To-chan!" Kotone shakily laughs, tripping on one of the steps. He pulls her up, resolving to drag the both of them if he has to. "Th-thanks!"
"Keep. Moving."
They reach the top after what feels like hours and pause to catch their breath. The exit to the roof is all that stands between them, and what he bets was Takeba's way out. Makoto cracks his neck, preparing for whatever awaits them next. One can never be too prepared. If that thing wants a rematch, Makoto will be ready. His pulse beats like a drum in his ears, playing along to the song of battle. A battalion of soldiers wouldn't be able to stop him at this second. He feels like he could take on the world and win.
Holy crap, he doesn't think his heart raced like this in years. What a rush!
He's basically dancing in place, hopping up and down and to the side as he loosens out his body like a boxer before his big match.
"Senpai, what're you doing?" Takeba asks, giving him a weird look.
"Warming up."
"For what?" Shiomi joins in.
Glass from the floor below them shatters.
"For that." He replies back. "C'mon, let's go. Onto the roof, ladies. Move it."
He wrenches the metal door, which shrieks open, and they step out into the windless night. Shiomi shoves the door, slamming it shut and blocking it with a large brick.
"Hooh, that should slow it down." She laughs a bit, leaning her back against the steel. "This sucks…!"
"Tell me about it…" Yukari falls down next to her. "This is not how I wanted to spend my night—"
A brief squishing sound Makoto's unable to correctly place, almost like slurping or slime, catches his attention. It comes from the edge of the building, off the side where the windows would lead.
That is not good. Not at all.
"Hey," Makoto interrupts, not moving his gaze from the edge. "Get up. Something's coming."
They both immediately shakily stand, removing the clasp from their respective holsters after sharing a grim and resolute nod. If their guns are real, why didn't they use them before?
Whatever.
The two girls remove their weapons and run over to his side as, from across the makeshift arena, an arm reaches up and grips the edge. The slurping sound from before came from that masked asshole, as it fully reveals its true form for the trio to see. It holds its mask in one of its many arms, looking around the rooftop and stopping upon spotting them. Takeba grimaces, and Shiomi glares resolutely.
These girls are tough.
Makoto cracks his neck again, noticing that the thing is focused mainly on him. It touches down onto the roof in front of them. Seems it also wants a second round. He's willing to comply.
Instead, Takeba runs ahead and readies her gun. "That thing; it's a shadow! We fight them using Personas!"
Instead of aiming it at the enemy, she turns it on herself, much to Makoto's derision.
"If that's how you wanna go, go ahead! But do it over there!" He snarls, pointing toward the opposite end of the roof. "I'm fighting this thing!"
He'd never give up this opportunity. Makoto doesn't blame her for wanting to end it this way, but god. Why now? Why not go out fighting a giant, scary monster? Blaze of glory and all that good stuff? Honestly, to him, that's just kind of disappointing. He was starting to like her.
She holds it to her forehead, hyperventilating like she did the night before. Makoto's almost ready to roll his eyes, but Kotone beside him calls out with encouragement. Which just makes him look at her with a strange sense of disgust.
"You can do it, Yukari!" She cries, readying her own gun. "Don't be afraid! Pull the trigger!"
"Seriously? I thought you were friends."
"Shut up, To-chan!" She snips. "It isn't like that!" Then, she turns back to the still hesitating girl, frozen stiff with inaction. "Yukari, do it! I'm right here! We'll do it together!"
Double suicide? What is with this damn dorm?
But before Kotone can rush ahead and join her, the 'Shadow' bats the girl aside with one of its spindly appendages. Oh, it has knives, too. Cool.
"Yukari!" Kotone gasps, running over to where she lands as her gun slides to Makoto's feet, into a puddle of blood he didn't realize he had stepped in. He can't take his eyes off the silver and engraved Luger. "Hang on! I'm coming!"
Her voice sounds so far like she's a million years away.
Around him, what looks like a vignette covers the edges of his vision. Tunnelling upon the gun, he finds himself unable to wrench away his gaze.
It blocks out all sound, as well. Where there should be Kotone yelling to Yukari, or the Shadow squelching and mulching about with its mucky emanations, he finds only white noise. A consistent buzzing as he stares at the pistol on the ground.
And the sound of his slow heartbeat in his ears. He's afraid. Makoto hasn't felt fear since childhood.
"Go on." A vision of the prison-pyjama child appears before his eyes, holding his finger to his temple, copying the motions Makoto used to reenact on a nightly basis. Makoto would imagine what it'd be like, to have a gun to his head and ready himself for the end and pretend he's doing it with that very same enactment. Middle and index make up the barrel, and his thumb would be the hammer.
Reaching down, he picks up the gun. This one is real.
"You know what to do."
He brushes his thumb along the engraved SEES insignia, cold within his grasp. His heart rate increases in tempo as he stares at the weapon, the instrument of death. He trembles under the weight of the unexpectedly heavy pistol. He knows what it's used for. He'd never be so naive to think otherwise.
A feeling he hasn't felt in a decade builds up inside his chest. Dread, an overwhelming ton of fear, sits atop his stomach. He feels it flip like a fighter jet as he tries to catch his breath.
He can't— breathe. It's—so hard—!
Like a corpse's claw, his hand grips the gun's handle in a vice. He forces his arm up, shaking all the while against his will, fighting against the dread.
When has he ever let fear control him?
He smiles. The gun touches his temple, and he glares at the shadow that dares to stand in his way. The dread inside his chest burns away, engulfing within the fire of his desire to destroy this thing.
"Persona," Makoto calls forth his very being, using a word he doesn't even understand but vaguely remembers Igor and Yukari saying. The trigger is pulled, a bullet is fired, and the smashing of glass fills his ears. Euphoria takes over as he feels the shot's recoil reverberate within his skull, releasing whatever he's been holding as a prisoner within himself.
Smoke trails from the barrel as wispy as fingers. Around him is glass, no doubt the shards of what this gun shattered within his psyche, spinning like butterflies, engulfing the area with their splendid and awful beauty. All of them slowly amalgamate into a being behind him, into his true self — A revelation that strikes him much more straightforward than what should have been expected.
A massive being slowly rises in the yellow moonlight, its face similar to his own, matching hair and all. A speaker makes up its chest; the arms are metallic and are entirely robotic. While a lyre rests upon its back, sheathed for later use. A giant music player. Fitting, Makoto muses.
It opens its mouth and speaks, but its lips do not move.
"I am thou, thou art I. From the sea of thine soul, I cometh. I am Orpheus, Master of Strings."
Makoto's other self releases a bellowing eldritch warcry, screaming at the masked Shadow.
"Makoto…?" Kotone mutters from somewhere behind him. He doesn't care enough to look back, hyper-focused solely upon the enemy before him and the mental satisfaction of summoning his persona, facing his fear with a smile.
This is the first time in a decade he's felt anything. Fear, loathing, desperation and now pure elation! It is exhilarating.
Suddenly, he wrenches forward, groaning in pain as a welling feeling of something writhing beneath his skin begs for release, overwhelming opposition to the euphoria he experienced a moment before. His head pounds. Like someone just knocked him upside the skull with a mallet.
Pure hatred. It courses through him. Rage, anger, disdain for all life. Destruction, all he craves is to destroy. Makoto feels this white-hot emotion run across him like magma in his veins. It burns. Burns.
He hates everything. He's going to kill all who stand in his way.
"To-chan?!" Kotone yells, this time. Running forward, hopefully after helping Yukari. "Are you okay?"
Makoto throws back his head, letting out a horrifying scream.
Orpheus explodes. White, gloved hands push themselves out of his neck, forcing apart his body, frantically and desperately looking for an escape. His body disintegrates as a new form reveals itself from inside the Persona. A steel-skull helmed monster wearing what looks to be a soldier's uniform. A grim swordsman, clad in black and white, surrounded by a mantle of coffins.
It roars more anger than intimidation, disgusted by the thing that dares to even think of threatening it and its master. Makoto can feel what it feels; all that resides within is hatred and rage. Before Makoto or Kotone can blink, it draws its sword with a metallic shwing and charges forward. Unstoppable, a pure force of utter contempt doubles Makoto over, groaning in pain.
It hurts so much!
Takeba gasps, audible through the cacophony of squelching meat and slashes of metal cutting through flesh. It gutturally and bestially grunts and growls as it tears into the Shadow. Brutally slashing and ripping with his sword from arm to face, or whatever the Shadow considered a face. Mask, maybe.
"T-To-chan! You have to force it down!" Kotone cries. "Regain control! You're the master!"
Thanatos. That's its name. It weeps for death and craves to kill. All he wants is to be set free and upon Makoto's enemies. Thanatos whips its skull face over to Kotone, almost in offense at her declaration as it squeezes a remnant of what used to be the Shadow before he set his sights upon it. Now, all that remains is a pile of squirming mush, slowly disintegrating within Thanatos' pristine white hand. He heaves like a caged animal. Then, finally, it roars out in a final cry of delight within its rampage.
Makoto falls to the ground, unable to continue standing. Thanatos disappears like the flickering of a television screen. The stress of the experience, summoning, then having something completely unhinged break loose just broke something within him. Consciousness is too much to bare.
"Senpai!"
"Makoto!"
The gunshot crack, then a blue shine, catches his eye. Before him, a beautiful woman jumps to his aid. She steals every ounce of his rapidly fading attention. Her gorgeously auburn hair flows like tresses of vibrant velvet, shining even in the Dark Green of the hour they reside. Beauty and grace as she destroys the remnants of squirming tar that dared to continue the fight.
"So… pretty." He mutters. Ivory skin, a flowing dress that covers her skin like lingerie. Healthy vines run up and down her arms, legs, and every appendage they can. Her delicately gorgeous hands cover her face, shielding her eyes from the world's woes.
Or maybe, in fear of being seen by whoever she hides from. Truly seen.
He feels an overwhelming urge to comfort her from inside. Deep within the sea of his soul, Orpheus writhes at sight.
"Come to me, Eurydice!" Kotone screams for aid. "Wipe them all out!"
Ahh… now Makoto understands…
Then, black takes his vision.