I still haven't caught up on responding to reviews, queries etc., but I thought you might all appreciate a new (belated) installment more than my messages. Hope so, anyway. Apologies to those whose messages I missed, will try my very best to respond promptly from here on.
To answer a couple of questions…it's doubtful I'll include much from The Golden or P4A in this story. Next story will feature references and characters from both. As for writing specifically about P4A, it's possible! I have some ideas for one-shots, but Shortest Distance takes precedence. Not many chapters left.
Story so far: With a little help, Souji, Kanji and Naoto made it out of the television, though not before an unpleasant encounter with Adachi.
In this interlude: Dreams in the fog, plans for battle, and an overdue dose of honesty from Naoto.
December 6th, 2011
After too many recent nights slumped at a desk in the police station, insomnia was both unfamiliar and, given the circumstances, understandable. Naoto had been wide-awake for what felt like hours, wrapped in heavy blankets on the bedroom floor and staring at the ceiling. Dim light from the street lamps seeped through the narrow gaps in the window-blinds, hazy through the filter of fog that pressed up against her apartment building. She closed her eyes, her breath as loud in her ears as Rise's silence on the bed, and began counting. One. Two. Four. Eight. Sixteen.
A minute or so later, somewhere just shy of four-point-two million, Naoto paused. The silence felt wrong. It hung too heavy, as if the air itself had thickened and swallowed all sound. Her eyes cracked open onto the same faint light as before – but now it was swirled steel grey, pressing down from above, clogging her lungs with each breath.
The window. She must have opened it earlier. She climbed to her feet, tripping slightly on the tangled blankets, stumbled through the fog to where the window should have been - and realized it wasn't. The room itself was different, its faint outline unfamiliar in the murky grey, and the bed beside her was empty. Where was she? What had happened to Rise? Was Kanji still sleeping outside?
Focus. A door was set in the center of the far wall, and she grabbed the handle to pull it open - then paused.
There were voices on the other side. Two of them, strange and familiar and terrible all at once. Over ten years had passed since she'd last heard them in person and she'd sometimes suspected she'd forgotten them completely, filled the gaps with invented amalgamations – but somehow she knew these were her parents' voices. They sounded softer than those in the dream she'd had at Kanji's house, what felt like months ago, and - -
...No. Her parents were dead. Naoto jerked back from the door as if the handle had burned her skin. Her phone buzzed on a nearby dresser, and she grabbed it without thinking, flipped it open to reveal a message on the screen.
Humans yearn for fog; oblivion's comforting embrace.
No name or number was attached. If not for the content, she might have written it off as a glitch.
And there was laughter on top of the voices now, high-pitched and near-hysterical. Tohru Adachi's, she realized, but somehow her father's quiet whisper cut through. Come outside, Naoto.
Her phone slipped from her hand, shattered against the floor - plastic and glass shards in the snow, the streetlights outside the police station too faint to—
Naoto blinked.
Come outside.
Her fingers wrapped around the door handle.
Her parents were waiting. They'd always been waiting.
The fog enveloped her, stagnant and almost soothing – shrouding her doubts, filling in all the empty spaces - and all she had to do was-
Naoto's eyes flew open to darkness.
The familiar lines and angles of her bedroom gradually because visible, but the dim light was just that. There was no fog, now – and neither silence nor laughter, because someone was -
Someone was crying.
Later, she would chastise herself for, just for an instant, fearing that it might be her. Sukuna-Hikona was buzzing distantly, anxiously in the back of her head, but unlike the last time her eyes remained dry. She was strong, she was in control, and that knowledge should have set her mind at ease - but somehow, Rise's quiet sobbing made everything much worse.
Naoto swallowed. Her Persona was growing increasingly agitated by the sound, her chest and throat tightening in turn. "...Rise-chan?"
"...Wow, N-Naoto-kun." Rise's half-hearted laugh didn't hide the tremble in her voice. "Don't you ever sleep?"
"I slept soundly during our visit to the Amagi Inn. You made fun of me the following morning."
Rise's response was a noise of annoyance, somewhere between a groan and a sigh. "I said you looked cute when you were asleep! That's not making fun." There was a slight sniffling in the dark, and the bed sheets rustled. "Hey, you should get up here."
Naoto blinked. "Wh-Why?"
"Because I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to lay on the floor with bruised ribs or whatever you've got from the TV."
They had conducted this same conversation several hours ago. Naoto shifted against the floor and tried to burrow deeper into her blankets. "I am perfectly comfortable."
"Liar," said Rise, light and astute. "There's tons of space up here, y'know."
"Space for one individual. And you are a guest, therefore-"
"Fine," she cut in, ending on an emphatic sigh. "You take the bed, and I'll go hop on the sofa with Kanji-kun instead."
"Absolutely not." The words were out of Naoto's mouth before she'd registered them, and before she could formulate an acceptable explanation. "I-I-I cannot permit such blatant impropriety," she managed, and hoped Rise would drop the topic.
She didn't. "Blatant impropriety. Naoto-kun, you seriously need to spit that dictionary out." More shuffling around on the bed, as though Rise were moving away from the edge. "You also need to get up here before I go tell Kanji-kun to budge up and make room."
Arguing with Rise was akin to standing on a beach and shouting at the tide to go away. Naoto grimaced, let out an annoyed half-grunt, and sat up.
Sukuna-Hikona, she noted, had fallen silent again. In retrospect it had been reassuring to hear him again, to know their connection remained, no matter how tenuous. What was more disturbing was that both presumably both she and Rise had been afflicted by nightmares. Had the same happened to Kanji? He would benefit from company if so, but knowing Kanji, he wouldn't dare to knock on the bedroom door. "Should we check on him?"
"Nah, after everything that happened tonight he's probably out cold. So, why'd you do it?"
The question had been tagged on almost casually: Rise's usual tactic. Halfway through climbing onto the bed and somewhat distracted, Naoto actually allowed herself to consider it - then cut the thought off a split-second later. "Do what."
Another, quieter sigh. "C'mon, don't play innocent. Kanji-kun was a dumb as a bag of bricks for jumping in after Adachi – so why did you follow him?"
Naoto wished she had an answer. Or, at least, an answer she could understand. "It was necessary," she said, trying to force her voice low and steady. "He would have been in dire straits alone."
"So you were worried."
"Of – of course. Kanji-kun is a valued teammate, why wouldn't I—" She took a deep breath. "Rise-chan, please refrain from reading bizarre meanings into my actions."
"Liiittle defensive, there. So what if you care what happens to Kanji-kun? It's not like that's a bad thing."
'Bad' was too weightless a description. Bewildering, alarming, stomach-turning...Naoto could supply endless adjectives and never fully explain the jumble of emotions she'd been struggling to ignore. Following Kanji inside the television had made it all real – and worse, had made some statement that she had no means to decipher. She cared for all her new friends, inexperienced as she was in having them, yet her mind continually revolved back to the same question: if it hadn't been Kanji who had jumped in, would she have still immediately followed?
She turned onto her side, facing away from Rise. "I – don't want to talk about this."
"Okay. Sorry."
Rise had dropped the question so quickly, Naoto almost found herself apologizing. Instead, she curled up tighter, fists pressed against her knees, and tried not to think. Silence settled over them, for long enough that she wondered if her bedmate had fallen asleep. Rise's breathing hadn't slowed enough, though, and it was little surprise when she finally spoke. "This kind of bed reminds me of going on tour," she said. "Staying in fancy city hotels, ordering room service..." Her tone had started out almost wistful, but dissolved into a giggle. "I used to order the weirdest stuff I could think of. Salmon stuffed with strawberry Pocky, that kind of thing."
"Why?"
"Dunno. I was bored, I guess. It wasn't like anyone ever stopped me."
Naoto, accustomed to near-identical business hotels, was not a fan of such extravagance. "That sounds rather irresponsible."
"Probably." A finger jabbed Naoto between her shoulder blades. "Don't worry, I'll take you with me next time, the record company'll pay you to ruin all my fun."
"I have a job already," Naoto pointed out.
"Yeah - Naoto Shirogane, professional killjoy!" Rise trilled, but quickly followed it with, "Kidding. You know that, right?"
Naoto closed her eyes. "Try to sleep, Rise-chan. Tomorrow may be-"
"I know." The bed shifted as Rise nestled closer, and her hand squeezed Naoto's shoulder. "It'll be fine, Naoto-kun. We'll all be fine."
Naoto quietly cracked open the bedroom door, expecting to see Kanji still asleep on the sofa, and instead found the room empty. The sound of running water came from behind the closed bathroom door.
Perhaps his night had been as restless as her own. She'd slept little after her conversation with Rise, and had been awake to watch the fog gradually lighten in colour; the closest Inaba got to a rosy dawn, these days. Eventually, at around seven-thirty, she'd been able to disengage from Rise's halfway hug without waking her. Naoto had quickly dressed herself, then spent a considerable time searching for her phone until she'd remembered its fate the previous evening.
She perched on the sofa, noting the neatly folded stack of blankets beside her, and waited. The water soon stopped running, and when the bathroom door opened moments later, Kanji walked out into the living room with his hair clearly freshly gelled. Naoto found herself wondering what he looked like without it.
He glanced up at her, but seemed preoccupied with his sweater sleeve. There was a long tear in the fabric - by now par for the course inside the TV world. "Uh, hey, Naoto. Rise still sleepin'?"
Naoto nodded. "Her rest was disturbed earlier in the night."
"She ain't the only one. I dreamt a whole bunch of crap." He looked at Naoto again, frowning in what she took for curiosity. "You?"
Naoto opened her mouth to answer (no, of course not), then closed it. She was about to try again when a jingle blared from somewhere near the apartment entrance. It seemed to be coming from Rise's coat, left hanging from a hook by the front door.
Rise burst out of the bedroom, already fully-dressed. "Oh, that's mine - could you check it, Naoto-kun? I have to fix my hair. Passcodes 6221! And Kanji-kun, get started with breakfast!"
"Who said that was my job? And what's the point inna passcode if-" As Rise disappeared into the bathroom, Kanji trailed off into an unhappy grunt.
Naoto shrugged. "Rise considers me trustworthy."
"Well…yeah." He gave a slight, wry sort of smile. "But y'know, she's just given a pro detective full access t'her phone records."
"Let's hope I never have cause for blackmail," Naoto said, with a small half-smile in return, then fished the cellphone out from Rise's coat and flipped it open to the passcode prompt. After tapping out the final digit, a message appeared on the screen. A phrase flashed through her mind – something about yearning for fog? – but sputtered out a split-second later. Predictably, the text message was from Souji: a request that the team assemble to plan their next move.
…And doubtless discuss the previous night. Questions would be asked that she was not ready to answer, because the answers she'd found not only made no sense but raised even more questions in turn. And then there was Adachi's role in events, which she should have deduced sooner. A 'pro detective', as Kanji had put it, would have seen through Adachi's act months ago; Naoto had realized the truth merely minutes before his open betrayal.
"Souji-senpai sent a text," she told Kanji, without looking up. "We are to meet at his uncle's house at nine."
Across the room, the window blinds rustled. "Eh, it'll beat sittin' in the food court in this weather."
She closed the phone and slipped it back in Rise's coat pocket. When she chanced a look at Kanji, he was staring into space, hands in his pockets. He seemed to be standing oddly, as if favouring one side, and she remembered his injuries from the previous night. "Are you ready to enter the TV?"
He frowned at her. "Huh?"
"Your injuries. They were not completely healed, and we may pursue Adachi today." The decision would be Souji's, and Naoto wasn't certain he would choose wisely.
The frown edged closer to a scowl. "We better. M'ready to smack that bastard one end of the TV world to the other."
"Pretty long way, Kanji-kun." Rise walked out of the bathroom, still fastening one of her twin-tails. "So, what's for breakfast?"
Kanji shook his head. "We gotta head to Senpai's. But he's probably stocked up, if Hanamura's had any say. Guess I can make us all somethin' there."
"Good idea. Otherwise he might try to do it," she said, wincing, then nodded toward the door. "C'mon, let's head out."
After bundling up into their respective coats – Naoto fortunately having a spare to replace the one she'd been forced to leave at the police station – the three made their way out of the apartment building. Outside, faint sunlight strained through the fog, and though it was cold enough that the snow on the ground hadn't melted, it had least stopped falling for now. Yet the roads were still empty; as they walked to the bus stop, Naoto saw no vehicles or other pedestrians pass by. Even the snow looked surprisingly free of footprints, given how many apartments and other residences lined this street.
"Yikes, it's cold." Rise hunched down into her coat. "Hope we don't have to wait long."
Kanji leaned against the bus stop sign, one foot kicking idly at the snow. "Fog's making all the buses run late. Prob'ly makes more sense to –"
"Oh, crap!" Naoto glanced over at the outburst, and saw Rise had turned pale. 'I forgot to call Grandma last night!" She snatched her phone from her pocket, flipping it open in the same motion, and began dialing. "Sorry, guys, damage control."
"Did you contact your mother?" Naoto asked Kanji.
"Nah, forgot...but she's used to me disappearing. I'll call her when we get t'Senpai's."
Naoto nodded absently, distracted both by Rise's efforts to placate her grandmother (which didn't appear to have started well) and by the fog wreathed around them. It stirred the sounds and images from her nightmare: the strange room, the way the fog had seeped inside to fill it, and most of all the voices of her parents.
She looked at Kanji. "Last night. What did you dream?"
"Like I said. Bunch of crap." He didn't look up. "My – my dad was there."
"...I'm sorry."
Kanji's shrug was too quick to be casual. "Eh. Dreamt about him before. The fog, too. Just – not like that." He glanced over his shoulder at Rise, who'd walked a few steps away. "Rise mention anything?"
"She didn't need to," Naoto said quietly.
"Damn. You think it's 'cause of what Adachi said? This world mixing with that one?"
Naoto was not one to put stock in dreams. But while she was ill-inclined to trust Adachi's claims, this fog suggested he might actually have been telling the truth about the two worlds merging. If so, and the TV world fed off the minds of those thrown inside, did the same now apply here? "I don't know," she admitted. "But I'm beginning to believe there's more to the fog's ill effects than simple hysteria. That's certainly part of it, but…"' She shook her head. Any explanation she offered right now would be conjecture.
Kanji sighed, his breath forming a cloud in the freezing air. "I thought everyone was just gettin' worked up over nothing."
Arms folded, Naoto tilted back her head to stare at the sky. Even this long after dawn, the sun was no more than a blurry-edged disc, low and dull behind layers of wool-thick fog.
So. Assume Adachi to be correct. The question then became how far the situation would progress. A dreadful image struck her: Shadows pouring through television screens, attacking Inaba's inhabitants in their homes and stores and workplaces. The only consolation was that the fog remained confined to this town, so escape might still be possible – but with neither warning nor means of defence, how many humans would survive the initial attack?
"Uh, Naoto?"
Naoto lowered her gaze. Kanji was chewing his bottom lip and not quite looking at her. "I – uh, said this earlier, but – thanks. For followin' me. Woulda been sunk without ya."
Her shoulders tensed. "Yes, I know."
There was no reason for him to thank her again. Like Rise, he was putting too much emphasis on a single, instinctive act. And he was still not-quite-looking - waiting, even, as if his half-formed set of sentences had posed some question and warranted an honest answer.
The problem was, Naoto now suspected that it had. And it did.
She looked away. The words came without thinking. "I'd do it again."
Kanji didn't respond.
She was on the verge of glancing back at him, almost against her will, when he finally spoke. "Naoto, y-you don't hafta –"
"Aw, c'mon, please don't ground me! I-I've gotta go study with my senpai today!" Rise scurried over and thrust her cell toward Kanji. "Kanji-kun, my grandma likes you, can you vouch for me?"
Whatever he had been about to say was lost. Naoto had expected to feel gratitude.
"Dammit, Rise!" he snarled, but took the phone nonetheless. "Uh, hey, Kujikawa-san. N-No, I wasn't snappin' at you, promise!"
The idea of Kanji Tatsumi – whose photograph Naoto had seen prominently pinned to a noticeboard at the police station days before she'd first confronted him – providing adequate reassurance to Rise's grandmother seemed highly unlikely. Many things about Kanji seemed unlikely. His deep interest in sewing and knitting animal toys; the assistance he offered his mother in the textiles shop; his refusal to enter the school's sewing room in case he scared away the other students. Yet the same boy had engaged in a street brawl with Sonoda and, only a short while later, been so blinded by rage that he'd jumped into the TV world alone. Naoto found herself wishing he could just be definite – knowing he would have every right to think the same of her.
"Yeah, I know, Rise shoulda called. But she's usually real good 'bout that stuff, right? An' she was at Naoto's, so –" He paused, wincing. "No, 'course I wasn't there! She, uh, just told me."
Kanji, Naoto reflected, was a horrible liar. Part of her suspected that, in retrospect, she might be too. She turned away, tuned out the phone conversation – in which Rise had now loudly re-involved herself - and waited for the bus to arrive.
"So we're going in today, right?" Yosuke asked, though it didn't sound like a question. He'd been restless since he'd arrived at Dojima's house, and had only picked at the rice, natto and eggs Kanji had made for the group.
Chie gave a firm nod. Nerves or not, she'd cleared her plate within minutes. "Yeah, no fair that you guys got a sneak preview last night. Seriously, Kanji-kun, wait for the rest of us next time!"
"Better tell that to Naoto-kun, too," Yosuke said, smirking. "Seeing as logic doesn't count for much where Tatsumi's concerned."
Heat rushed to Naoto's cheeks, and she ducked her head. She'd spent most of the time since her arrival helping Souji recap in detail the previous night's events. Aside from the inevitable teasing from Yosuke, there had thankfully been little comment on her decision to follow Kanji. She hoped the other members of the team had simply thought it the natural course of action, though the way Chie, Yukiko and Rise had all glanced at each other had suggested otherwise.
"Can it, Hanamura," Kanji snapped. He'd stayed standing in the kitchen even while eating. "Are we going to Junes or what?"
Souji nodded, finishing up his last mouthful of rice. "Yep. To train."
Kanji, Chie, and Yosuke all stared at him, aghast. "What?"
"We're going to train. We aren't ready to fight him yet. Last night proved that," Souji added, with a pointed look at Kanji.
Naoto opted for silence. Sensible as she knew Senpai to be, part of her had expected an immediate plunge back into Adachi's twisted version of Inaba.
"We can't afford to wait!" Yosuke snapped. "C'mon, Souji, you've seen how the town's getting, we don't know how long we have!"
"We still need to prepare."
"But—"
Souji held up a hand. "Yosuke, this isn't up for debate."
Yosuke looked dumbfounded at that – and though he maintained eye contact with Souji, he made no effort to hide the hurt in his expression. Next to him, Chie glanced between them both and shifted awkwardly against the floor. "Well, okay…so when do we start?"
"Ted's supposed to be working at Junes till two," Yosuke said, still with that strange, injured look at Souji. "We're majorly short-staffed and he has to make up for the shifts he missed while he was gone. But I think I can help him finish up early, maybe around noon."
"Fine. Chie, Yukiko, I want you to head to Daidara's," Souji said. "He probably won't have anything new for us but it won't hurt to check. Kanji and Rise, you've got Shiroku. Usual supplies will do. Naoto, I need your help strategizing. We've got to compensate somehow for our Personas' reduced strength, change up our defences."
"But we can all help with that," Rise blurted. Beside her, Chie and Yukiko both nodded in agreement. "The more brains the better, right?"
Naoto glanced at Kanji, but he was staring firmly at the kitchen counter, palms pressed flat against the surface.
Souji shook his head. "You'll be more useful if you stick to the tasks you've been set. If you get done early, take time to prepare yourself. It'll be a long day." He stood up from the table. "Everyone finish up and head out."
The rest of the team did as he asked, though with a few sidelong looks. Chie opened the front door, letting the fog spill into the house, and strode outside, closely followed by the rest of the group. Rise was the last to leave, shooting a final unreadable glance at Souji on the way.
If Souji noticed it, he said nothing. Instead he closed the door behind them, and leant the side of his head against the frame.
Naoto understood that certain tasks were better accomplished by small groups. Any strategizing by a team of seven would risk being slow-paced and inconclusive. However – and though six months ago, the idea would have struck her as absurd - she now also understood that solidarity sometimes surpassed practicality. "Senpai, that was—"
"Harsh?" He let out a breath. "Probably. I think I'm losing my touch," he added lightly, though without a trace of humour. "But if they stay, I know we'll start arguing over pursuing Adachi – and it was hard enough to say no the first time."
Naoto studied him carefully. Souji was sensible – but not infallible. "In Kanji-kun's place," she asked, "what would you have done?"
Souji straightened from the door. "If I'd been the one who'd gone after Adachi instead of checking on Nanako? I might've jumped in too." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't want us to wait. I hate that we're giving that bastard the chance to move first. He's already tried to kill me once, he's hurt too many people I care about, and for all we know he was lying about how long we have. But we aren't ready."
"I agree."
Souji dropped his hand and fixed her with a steady look. "Which is why I need you to help me figure things out. Just like with Heaven." His lips curved into a wry, slightly reproving smile. "You're the quickest and most rational thinker I've got, impulsive leaps into TVs notwithstanding."
Naoto dropped her gaze to the table surface. Her face felt flushed, and she tugged at the brim of her cap in an unconscious effort to hide it. She'd spent hours with Souji planning their assault on Namatame in Heaven's castle, but he'd never been quite so forthright about why he'd chosen her assistance over that of the others. In a detached sort of way, she felt gratified that her talents were being recognized, particularly by someone she so admired. Yet the praise was still a little too much to handle, and it still seemed unwise to shut out the rest of the team. "Perhaps," she mumbled. "But the others wanted to help too."
"I know." Souji's voice had turned strained. "But - I'm not even sure the planning will do any good. I don't know how we're going to do this, and I wish everyone would just -" Another pause. He rubbed at his face. "It's complicated," he eventually said. "I need everyone's strength, I've known that since the start…but sometimes I really wish I was doing this alone." He looked up at Naoto. "No offence."
"You made the correct decision, Senpai."
"I hope so," he said, quietly. A few moments later, he walked over to his schoolbag by the door, opened it, and pulled out a pad of paper. "Enough of my complaining. Let's figure out what the hell we're going to do in there."