Minato woke up to find his vision blanketed by darkness. A darkness that was small, furry, and growled in protest when he lifted it from its perch on his face and held it out at arm's-length.
He stared at it, golden feline eyes meeting his own. The bundle of darkness wiggled in his grip, displeased with its situation.
"Where did you come from?"
The black cat only grumbled in response, batting at his hand with its paws.
He sighed as he climbed out of bed, keeping the cat nestled in the crook of his arm. He supposed he would have to ask around to hunt down the cat's owner. And if it turned out to be a stray, maybe there was a local animal shelter willing to take it in.
A bout of thrashing interrupted his thoughts as the cat squirmed, meowing in irritation as it sought its freedom with every fiber of its being. He held on tightly, unwilling to let it go and cause any more trouble –
The cat paused in its struggles, shooting him an irritated look.
He stared back, impassive as always. "Just behave."
The cat snorted, glanced away, and melted into a pool of liquid shadow.
He stared on in astonishment as the pool slipped through his arms and coalesced on the floor, reforming once more as a cat. It shot him one last glare, huffed, then strutted away with its tail held high.
Minato had never owned a pet before, much less a cat, but he was pretty sure that normal cats weren't quite so . . . malleable with their size. Shape. And form.
The cat reached his bedroom door, and he watched as it dipped into the shadows once more, sliding under and bypassing the barrier as easily as breathing.
He shook his head. It was too early for this; maybe the world would make more sense after he got dressed.
No sooner had he turned his back to the door did a loud hiss out in the hallway grab his attention, and he looked up just in time to see Elizabeth barge into his room, a familiar black cat held by the scruff of its neck in her hand.
"Good morning, Minato~"
He returned the greeting, his eyes drawn to the curious animal who was hissing in irritation once again.
Noticing his gaze, she smiled in amusement. "I see you've run into Mischief already."
Why yes, yes he had. Waking up with a cat on his face had been a rather unpleasant experience, a misdemeanor that he hoped the feline would not try again any time soon.
"I'm glad to see that Mischief has already taken a liking to you! I do hope the two of you will get along."
Well, he didn't think his luck was that bad recently, and why would she be glad about that–?
He blinked as realization dawned on him. Several realizations, in fact. One: the cat's name was Mischief. Two: they were keeping it. Three: the cat belonged to Elizabeth.
. . . Since when did that happen? He was pretty sure that when he went to sleep last night, their household had been pet-free. Had she picked up a stray during the night?
When he inquired as to the cat's origins, Elizabeth smiled proudly and declared:
"I made her!"
He blinked. That didn't make any sense. Since when could she do that?
Seeing his confused look, Elizabeth amended her statement. "I suppose the better word might be 'manifest'."
That . . . made slightly more sense.
"So, a Persona then?" he asked.
She shook her head at his speculation. "I believe Mischief is the 'Authority' that Pandora mentioned, which I supposedly stole from Erebus." She tapped her chin. "Although, it is strange; I had thought that only true Campione received Authorities when they slay a god."
When she turned to him like she was expecting him to have the answer, he could only shrug helplessly. He was just as ignorant of this world as she was. But more importantly . . .
"That means you can dismiss her, right?"
Elizabeth's face suddenly grew sheepish. "Ah . . . about that . . . ."
He sighed. He could already tell what was about to come up. "You want to keep her around?"
"If it's not a bother, of course!" She shuffled in place nervously. "I've always wanted a pet, but Igor would never allow me to keep one; he would always say something about how normal animals would be driven mad from the tumultuous waves of the collective human unconscious."
That sounded like a perfectly good reason to refuse her, if only for the poor animal's sake. But now that rabid pets wouldn't be an issue, he supposed he could bear with it for her sake . . .
"Is it housebroken?"
"Worry not! I assure you that she has no need for food or drink, and thus no need to excrete waste!"
That was a relief. If he didn't have to worry about stepping on any cat droppings, he was fine with it.
As if to prove him wrong, the cat wiggled her way out of Elizabeth's grip, launching herself through the air and landing right on top of his head, curling up on her new perch like it was a perfect spot of sunshine.
Minato sighed. He tried to pull her off.
Mischief refused to budge.
He tried harder.
A sharp pain in his scalp let him know Mischief didn't appreciate his efforts.
He looked to Elizabeth for help.
"Oh my, it seems she has grown more attached to you than I could ever have thought! It appears I may have inadvertently created a rival for your attention!"
No help to be found there.
He sighed again. Arriving at school with a cat attached to his head would certainly make for an . . . interesting first impression.
Perfect conversation starter right there.
xxx
Kaoru sat in her office, staring at a cup of tea like it held the solution to all her problems.
She picked it up and downed the contents in a single gulp, an act that she had repeated many times already. As the drink settled in her stomach, she could feel the vivid fragrance overtaking her mind, a spark of an idea that quickly grew and became –
Nothing. She still had nothing. No miraculous flash of insight came to fix all her problems, not that she had really expected one to come after binge-drinking so much already.
She would've preferred alcohol, but apparently, booze and Hime-Mikos just didn't mix. She didn't want any of the trippy, mentally-scarring Spirit Visions that the others had been plagued with after getting plastered.
Or, well, it would be more accurate to say that she did, but she knew that incapacitating herself was a terrible idea since the HCC would most likely implode within moments of her passing out blackout drunk.
The woes of responsibility. At least they came with some benefits. Well, one in particular.
". . . Are you quite done yet?" a haggard voice asked her.
"No." She slammed the mug back down next to her hapless minion. "Refill it," she ordered.
Amakasu leveled her with a steady glare. "We're out, I'm afraid."
"Then brew another pot!"
"That will take some time."
She groaned and flopped onto her desk. She was too sober for this. All the tea in her system was making her feel strangely calm despite the bundle of nerves and anxiety raging inside her, making for a strange yet intriguing contrast.
Amakasu pulled up a seat next to her, a contemplative frown on his usually calm face. "If I may ask, what's gotten into you this time? You've been like this ever since our meeting with the eighth Campione."
"Honorary Campione," she corrected.
He rolled his eyes. "A bit hypocritical of you to make that distinction when you told me to leave it out of the official report."
"Well, just because we don't want the other magic associations nosing around the anomaly we've got on our hands doesn't mean we can afford to forget that distinction ourselves."
"I doubt anyone would care to draw such a distinction; she could annihilate both us and Heretic Gods in equal measure regardless of how we refer to her."
She let out a low chuckle. "I suppose that's true," she whispered.
He crossed his arms, leaning back and staring down on her like a parent would a naughty child. "You're thinking about her." It was not a question.
She glared at him. She wasn't a kid anymore, damn it. He didn't need to act so overbearingly towards her anymore.
"Yeah," she admitted begrudgingly.
Amakasu sighed, sensing her foul mood and easing up on the tension. "Penny for your thoughts?" he quipped.
And wasn't that the crux of the matter? Her thoughts had been a mess ever since that meeting, and they had only gotten worse as she brooded while her partner went and got those identification papers sorted out.
"Hey . . ." she whispered. "If I got our whole organization killed because I pissed off a Campione, would you be mad at me?"
He stared at her. Slowly, he took off his glasses, fixating her with tired, world-weary eyes. "That depends." He paused. "Would our sacrifices be in vain?"
She breathed out. ". . . Hopefully not."
"And what exactly would we be risking our lives for?"
She closed her eyes. "The deaths of every Heretic God."
His eyes closed as well, realizing what had been plaguing her all this time. "I see. So, this is how you've chosen to interpret your vision, then."
Kaoru nodded slowly. How else was she supposed to interpret it, really? She received a vision of a world where Heretic Gods and Campione did not exist despite being permanent fixtures of their world for so long.
And then she met a strange Campione who claimed that she could permanently kill Heretic Gods.
It wasn't hard to put two and two together; if Elizabeth killed every Heretic God in existence, they would cease to exist. And without gods to fight, there would be no need for Campione, and they, too, would eventually die out with no new gods for aspiring god-slayers to slay.
The only problem was:
"I regret to say that I did not intend to become any more involved with the affairs of the supernatural than necessary."
A sardonic smile graced her lips. The one time she wished a Campione was a crazy battle-maniac, they turned out to be a pacifist like Godou. Such was her luck.
"Am I correct in presuming that the possibility of our organization drawing Elizabeth-sama's ire might have something to do with your schemes to involve her in conflicts she has no wish of partaking in? Schemes you are brainstorming at this very moment?"
Kaoru chuckled. He knew her too well, it seemed.
"Yeah. Pretty much."
Amakasu looked as if he had aged several decades upon hearing her confirmation. "That . . . might pose a bit of a problem. While I have no qualms about laying down my life for the sake of the greater good, not everyone in the HCC will be happy with your risky proposal."
Kaoru scowled. "They knew what they were getting into when they joined a magic association."
"Engaging in diplomacy with Campione is a far cry from participating in a ruse that is very likely to bring her wrath down on us if she discovers it."
"I will take full responsibility for any fallout that might occur."
"A declaration that the Campione may not recognize; who is to say that she won't decide to make an example out of our entire organization, even if the fault could be laid at the feet of one member?"
She grumbled and looked away. "Then what do you want me to do? Leave and do everything myself?"
A dry laugh. "Nothing so drastic, I assure you. I am simply asking that you inform the rest of the organization of your plan. That way, they can choose to decide if they wish to participate."
"You want me to put all my cards down on the table? Who the heck would willingly join me in my suicide mission?"
"More than you might think." He gave her a wry smile. "Besides, it is entirely possible that your plan goes off without a hitch and we escape any repercussions."
She snorted. "Only in your dreams. This is a plan that won't stop until every Heretic God is dead. Every. Last. One." She sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Face it, she'll find out at one point or another. The only question is how many we can get her to kill before then."
"A little bit of optimism wouldn't hurt, you know."
"Weren't you the one who didn't want me to sugarcoat it for the others?"
"I didn't say that; I merely suggested that you use a white lie instead of outright lying."
She laughed. "And here I thought I was the devious one."
Amakasu smiled. "I was your mentor at one point if you remember."
"Yeah, but all you taught me was boring stuff I never used again." She shook her head. "Anyway, I suppose this means you should set up the conference room for me, then."
"As you wish." He stood up and walked away, pausing briefly at the door.
Kaoru couldn't see his face, but she knew what expression he bore at that moment: that all-too-familiar, kind, encouraging look that he had worn the day they first met.
"Even if no one else is willing to join you on your quest, even if no one else is willing to lay down their life for your cause, know that you will always have my support."
He slipped through the door, leaving her to brood alone in her office once more.
She swiveled in her chair, reaching out to touch a framed photo that stood on her desk, one that depicted scenes of a simpler time, a happier time.
She caressed the image with her thumb, gazing upon the faces of those she had lost and those she didn't wish to lose.
"Yeah," she whispered. "I know."
She set the photo aside, pulling paper and pen from her desk and getting to work.
She hated preparing speeches. But this time, just once, she was going to put her all into it.
After all, she knew that if he died because she couldn't pull in enough helpers . . .
She would never be able to forgive herself.
xxx
Godou was elated. Ecstatic. Cloud nine was too short to describe the highs he had reached this moment.
Alas, his brief state of rapture was interrupted when Erica showed up during their lunch break to drag him into an empty corridor for some "private time."
His classmates had shot him some rather suggestive looks, but he knew from experience that his girlfriend's fierce smile promised that the ensuing conversation would be anything but pleasant.
When she finally turned around, satisfied that they were far away enough from the crowds, the frigid glare he was faced with felt like it would freeze him over.
"I have a feeling I know what you're thinking about," she said. "And I don't like it one bit."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Erica meant well, he knew. To her, she was simply trying to help him adjust to the inevitable life of conflict all Campione faced.
But he didn't want that. He hadn't asked to become a Campione, hadn't asked to get drawn into this world filled with gods and crazy Campione and magic associations. All he wanted to do was live a normal life and die a normal death.
Was that too much to ask for?
"Is it really so bad?" he asked. "There's another Campione in the area, and she doesn't want anything to do with me for once! And if she's as strong as the HCC claims, then I can just leave any Heretic Gods that pop up nearby to her."
It was the perfect scenario; he didn't want to be the King of Japan, which meant he was only all too ready to pass the mantle over to someone more suited for the role. Then, he could sit back, relax, and enjoy life the way it was meant to be enjoyed.
But the way Erica stalked towards him, growling all the way, made it quite clear that everything he just said was wrong and she was about to tell him why.
"Don't use the other Campione as an excuse to put off your responsibilities." She jabbed a finger into his chest. "You're a Campione now, and whether you like it or not, there's no running away from it. Trouble will find its way towards you, whether it be Heretic Gods or other Campione, and I won't let you be unprepared for when that time comes because you've somehow succumbed to the illusion that you can simply live a normal life!"
He held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I know, I know. And when that time comes, I'll take care of it, but that doesn't mean I need to go out looking for trouble."
She scowled at him. "And just how do you intend to grow stronger if you do not go out there and hone your skills? If you simply wait until you're attacked, it'll be too late; not all enemies will be so kind as to let you retreat, and when that happens, you better be prepared to stand your ground!"
"I've held my own fine so far, haven't I? Just have some faith in me."
"A disparity in strength cannot be overcome by faith alone."
Godou sighed. "Well, what do you want me to do? Recklessly look for fights at every opportunity and cause massive collateral damage in the process?"
"If that's what it takes, then yes."
He stared at her. "You can't be serious."
She crossed her arms in front of her. "I am, in fact, deadly serious. You won't learn from your mistakes unless you make some in the first place, and it's better to get them out of the way now before any stronger enemies appear."
"But what about the damage that would cause? When I sparred with you, I destroyed the Roman Colosseum! It would be way worse if I fought with a Heretic God!"
"You needn't concern yourself with that; it is, after all, the duty of magic associations to clean up the messes left behind your bouts."
"That doesn't mean I want to make a mess in the first place!"
"The alternative to fighting a Heretic God is to let it run free. To rampage and destroy human lives as it pleases. Would you rather let them do that?"
He gritted his teeth. How could she think he would be okay with that? "No, of course not!"
She smirked. "Then you don't have much choice in the matter, do you?"
A low growl emanated from his throat. "I'm a Campione, aren't I? That means I can run around doing whatever I want, and no one can stop me. That means I can run around doing nothing,and no one can stop me."
He immediately regretted his words, spoken in the heat of the moment, when he saw her eyes cloud over, when her face flash-froze into that icy, chilling smile that sent a shiver up his spine despite his divine status.
"Yes . . ." she said coldly. "I suppose that's true, isn't it? No matter what I say, you can just ignore me and do whatever the hell you want." Her smile fractured. "Fine, then. Be the selfish, indulgent Campione that I know you are. Be the cowardly Campione who clings to the remnants of his old life because he can't handle the new life he's been thrust into!"
She brushed past him, not even sparing him a parting glance. He wanted so badly to stop her, to grab her and apologize for his outburst.
But he restrained himself; he knew her well enough that saying anything more at this point would only make matters worse.
Godou sighed, a desolate, lonely sound that quickly faded away in the empty corridor Erica had pulled him into for their little talk.
"A selfish coward, huh?" he whispered.
She thought he wanted to hold onto the last, tattered shreds of his sense of normality. And she wasn't wrong; if he had a choice, he would give up his status as a Campione in a heartbeat.
But that wasn't the only reason for his reluctance. Not anymore, at least.
"Be the selfish, indulgent Campione that I know you are."
He supposed he was being selfish, in a way. He was selfish, because he cared more about her than he did the faceless masses he would be protecting whenever he fought a Heretic God.
And not just her: Yuri, Liliana, Ena . . . they were all precious to him, yet they were all such stubborn girls; they would all gladly follow him into battle against foes far beyond them, all in the name of giving him whatever aid they could.
And he was afraid. Afraid that a careless attack from either side would pulverize them, rending their bodies with chaotic divine energy until naught but ashes remained.
He didn't want that to happen. He couldn't even bear to think about the possibility. So, he would do his best to keep them out of danger, and since he knew that if he got in trouble they would inevitably show up, his only recourse was to avoid trouble at all costs.
Yet it seemed his gambit to avoid trouble had caused another sort of trouble to fall on him instead.
Godou sighed as he slumped against the wall, rubbing his face with his hands. This wasn't a situation that had an easy solution; even if he told Erica about the truth of his reluctance –
No. He couldn't do that. If he did . . . if he did . . .
He was afraid of what they might do. More specifically . . .
He was afraid they would leave him. That those beautiful, wonderful girls he had met, believing themselves to be holding him back, would cut ties with him for what they believed to be his own good.
He didn't think he could handle it if they did.
Because if his duties as a Campione would truly consume his life as Erica claimed, it would mean the world to him if someone who understood his struggles was by his side. Someone who would comfort him after a hard-fought battle, someone who he wouldn't need to hide his burdensome role from.
Those girls of his were that someone. And he would do anything to protect them.
He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to get wrapped up in such dark thoughts. School was still in session, and he would need to smile and grin to get through the rest of it.
As he kicked off the wall and began heading back to his classroom, he noticed someone loitering around in the hallway, looking around with a hint of confusion.
"Hey there," he said, walking towards them. "Are you lost or something?"
The blue-haired boy turned towards him with a mildly sheepish look. "I am," he admitted. "I just transferred here today."
"Oh? Well, tell me your classroom number and I'll show you where it is."
The boy dutifully informed him of such, and Godou perked up in surprise. "Hey, that's the same class I'm in! Might as well introduce myself early, then." He held out a hand. "Godou Kusanagi. Nice to meet you."
The boy raised an eyebrow at the mention of his name. "Minato Arisato. Likewise." They shook hands.
They walked together, the clip-clop of their shoes echoing in the otherwise empty hallway. As they traversed the corridor, Godou found himself observing the other boy, taking in his lax posture, his easy gait, and the . . . odd markings around his hair?
"What's with the claw marks around your hair?" he asked.
Minato made a pained grimace.
"Don't ask."
xxx
Minato was used to the whispers.
He had transferred to many schools before, bouncing between them aimlessly with a hollow mind and a hollow heart. And every time, he had been the talk of the class for a day or two before they forgot about him, letting him meld back into the shadows of obscurity.
Thus, he knew when someone's interest in him was more than just idle curiosity.
It was obvious, really; she was the only one still boring holes in the back of his head even when everyone else at lunch had gone back to chatting with their friends about various mundane topics. Well, she and her friend, to be exact, although the other one was less glaring and more occasionally shooting him curious looks.
He didn't understand what their fixation with him was, but he didn't really care as long as they didn't bother him about it.
Which is why, of course, the blonde girl who had been giving him the evil eye all this time chose that moment to pick up her tray, walk over, and plop down in a seat next to his.
She regaled him with a dazzling smile. "I hope you don't mind if I sit here."
Outwardly, he shrugged and gestured for her to go ahead even as he internally wondered if this was Mischief's punishment for his rather forceful removal of her from her favorite perch this morning.
The whispers started back up again. He did his best to ignore them, a feat that was just a tad bit difficult given some of the . . . less than school-appropriate speculation flying around.
"I shall be joining you as well."
A silver-haired girl, whom he recognized as the other one who had been watching him, swept into the other seat next to him, hemming him in between the two girls.
He grimaced. Getting up and leaving right after the two of them had sat down would almost certainly be construed as a slight to both of them, one that the rumor mill would have fun spinning about for days, perhaps even weeks to come.
What a nefarious scheme the two girls had concocted. He would just have to grin and bear with it, then.
Looking closer at the two girls, he realized they had been present when he had introduced himself to his class. Maybe they were just classmates trying to be friendly?
One glance at the blonde girl's predatory smile quickly disabused him of that notion.
"My name is Erica Blandelli, and this is my friend, Liliana Kranjcar," the blonde girl said, gesturing to her friend who gave him a quick nod. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Arisato-san."
He cautiously nodded. "Likewise."
Erica's smile widened, like a lion who had sensed weakness in her prey. "The two of us transferred here not that long ago, so if you have any trouble adjusting, feel free to ask us for help."
"That is very kind of you."
She nodded sagely. "Quite so. But while we're here, I thought it'd be nice if we could get to know each other a little better. We are classmates, after all."
He shrugged in acceptance. If they just wanted to ask him mundane questions, he would oblige.
"Why did you come to this school?"
"To graduate."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why this school in particular?"
He raised an eyebrow. "It's the closest."
"Is that the only reason?"
"Should there be another reason?"
Erica's fingers drummed on the table, clearly agitated. "You're not playing dumb, are you?"
"I am not," he confirmed.
She sighed. "Then I suppose I'll have to be blunt." She leaned in closer to him. "Are you here to spy on Godou?"
He blinked at her. ". . . Why would I do that?"
"Because he's a Campione."
Oh. Suddenly, a lot of things made much more sense.
"Should you really be saying that . . . ?" He gestured towards the crowds of ordinary students surrounding them.
"Worry not," Liliana piped up from behind him. "Anyone listening in would simply hear us talking about typical, everyday topics."
Erica focused her glare on him. "Answer the question."
He sighed. "No, I'm not."
Her steadfast glare made it plainly obvious that she didn't believe him.
"Even if he's a Campione, what reason is there for me to spy on him?" he asked.
"To gather information for your liege, of course."
". . . My liege?"
"The Campione you serve," Liliana explained.
He frowned. "She is not my liege."
"Oh? Then what is she to you?" Erica asked.
He thought of the advice Elizabeth had given him as he ascended the dark tower. He thought of the fun they had on their outings, culminating in that final, passionate night. He thought of the relief he felt when he opened his eyes after an eternity of torment and saw her again.
". . . A friend."
Some might think of that word as an oversimplification of their bonds, but for someone like him, that word was more than enough.
The two girls looked at him with skepticism, but he silently bore the brunt of their gazes.
Erica finally backed down with a scowl. "Fine. But we'll be keeping an eye on you –"
Godou ran up to their table, a harried-looking Yuri trailing behind him. "Hey! Sorry about the wait; Yuri needed my help with something."
From the furtive looks he saw Erica and Yuri exchange, he could hazard a guess that Yuri hadn't needed as much "help" as she was supposed to have.
The other boy glanced at the three of them sitting together. "Ah, I see you two have gotten acquainted with Arisato-san already. Should I be worried?" he asked with a teasing smile.
Liliana shot up, her cheeks already flushed. "Wha – what?! Of – of course not!"
Erica's scowl grew fiercer. "You shouldn't be associating with him so readily." She jabbed a finger at Minato.
Godou frowned. "What? Why not?"
"Because he might be here to spy on you!"
". . . And why would he do that?"
Minato snorted. It was good to see that at least one other person wasn't jumping to conclusions.
Erica gave Godou a deadpan look. ". . . You didn't read the report, did you?"
The other boy looked away sheepishly. "I was going to do that later," he admitted.
Yuri puffed out her cheeks. "I told you to read that this morning!"
"Sorry, sorry; I got too excited from Amakasu-san's message." He turned towards Minato. "So, I'm guessing you're acquainted with the eighth Campione, then?"
Minato nodded.
"Pleased to meet you! Well, again at least." Godou sat down across from him. "I would introduce myself, but I think you already know who I am."
Erica's scowl intensified, promising retribution later. "And there you go again, ignoring my advice as usual." She stood up. "Let's go, girls. Our King is off doing whatever he wants again."
She stormed off, leaving Yuri and Liliana to glance uncertainly between her and Godou.
The boy chuckled weakly. "I guess you two better go after her; she'll blow her fuse at this rate, so maybe try to calm her down, yeah?"
Liliana straightened up. "As you wish!" She dashed off.
Yuri gave Godou one last lingering look before taking off as well.
The Campione sighed as he leaned back in his chair, looking much wearier after their departure.
Minato raised an eyebrow. "Trouble in paradise?"
The other boy laughed. "I'm sorry you had to see that. As for what that was about, well . . . let's call it a difference in ideals."
He nodded, remembering what Kaoru had said. "You want to live a normal life. But she wants you to embrace your position as a Campione."
"Oh, you know that already? Well, I guess it's not really a secret or anything." A sigh. "I didn't ask for this, y'know? I was just a regular high-school student, living out his regular, everyday life, and then all this gets dumped on me out of the blue. Suddenly, I'm fighting life-or-death battles with gods on a regular basis, and if I lose, hundreds of thousands of people might die. How's that for pressure?"
Godou's plight reminded him of his own introduction to the supernatural. A wandering orphan, bouncing around from place-to-place, before finally finding himself embroiled in a mission to exterminate the Shadows and save humanity from its own despair.
He had relished the chance to finally have a purpose in life. But not everyone sought out such grand purposes, and Godou, it seemed, was one such individual.
"Then why not simply quit?" he asked. "If Campione are truly above others as I have heard, there is no one who can stop you."
Godou winced. "Well, it's not that simple." He rested his head on one hand. "Before I became a Campione, I always thought I heard about natural disasters on the news an awful lot. Every week or so, there would be another forest fire, another earthquake, or another tsunami that claimed dozens or hundreds of lives. It's only now that I know that those were all actually Heretic Gods." He looked down at his hands. "There are only a few of us, we who can stand up to the gods and quell their rampages. And even we can't be everywhere at once. So if I stop . . . how many would die if I quit? How many innocents would die for my selfishness?"
Another dilemma. Minato had been faced with a similar choice once, being forced to bear a burden that he had not wished to carry. He had chosen to sacrifice himself then, not because he wished to save the millions of innocents that inhabited the world, but to save the cherished few whom he called friend.
In his selfishness, he had committed the most selfless act of all.
There was one easy way to answer Godou's question.
"If your loved ones died because you did not fight, would you be able to forgive yourself?"
Godou's fists clenched. "No."
He nodded. "There is your answer."
The boy's fists clenched tighter, his knuckles whitening. "It's not that simple."
He quirked an eyebrow.
"What if . . ." Godou said slowly. "What if by fighting, I put them in danger anyway? What if I get them killed because I got in over my head, and they die trying to help me?"
Minato knew what it was like to worry about his comrades. Every trip into Tartarus was fraught with peril, every floor they ascended paved the way for new enemies that might surprise them and kill them.
He had been lucky. In the end, they had all survived, and he hadn't been forced to make his sacrifice knowing that it had been too late for one of them, that there was someone he had failed to save.
Not everyone would be that lucky. But there were few alternatives.
"If you did not fight, would they stop fighting as well?"
"No . . . they wouldn't," Godou replied despondently.
"Then, when they fight, wouldn't you rather be at their side? So that you may catch them when they fall and shield them when they falter?"
The other boy's eyes widened. ". . . I see," he whispered. "It was that simple all along, huh?" He chuckled. "Thanks for that. I guess all the divine power I got was screwing with my head."
Minato smiled. It was nice, being able to dispense advice like this. He had finished his own journey, overcome all the trials in his path and come out stronger for it. Now, he could help others on the same path, guide them towards the future they wanted to seize with their own hands.
"It's funny," Godou said. "Here I am, complaining about being a Campione when it's probably the only thing that let me meet them in the first place."
He tilted his head. "You mean those girls?"
"Yeah. Erica, Yuri, Liliana, Ena . . . they're all wonderful people. Even though they can be difficult at times, even though they can be unreasonable and quirky, there's something magical about being around them. Like I found something I never knew I was missing." He sighed. "And sometimes I wonder, what if I had never become a Campione? What if I had stayed a regular, ordinary, high-schooler? Would they still be interested in me? Would I even meet them?" He chuckled weakly. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't be thinking such depressing thoughts, huh?"
Such a line of thought was indeed depressing. What if, on that fateful day so long ago, a fragment of Death hadn't been sealed inside him? What if he had never become a Persona user, never joined SEES in their quest to clear the dark tower? Would he become a stranger to them, just another faceless classmate to lump in with the crowd? Were the bonds he had forged with them really so fragile as to be broken by a mere stroke of fate?
. . . No. He refused. He refused to believe that their time together could be so easily undone. After all, he knew better than anyone that bonds held power, enough power to shape the fate of an entire world. When faced against their resolve, Nyx and the Fall, their prophesied fate, had been the ones to yield.
"You would find each other again."
Godou looked at him in surprise. "What?"
He looked away, out the window, staring into a place far, far away. "Even in another world, a world without Campione and without Heretic Gods, you would find each other again. So long as your bonds are strong enough, so long as they are forged in the fires of hardship and tempered in the waters of happiness, you would find each other again. Even if fate itself tried to pull you apart, your invisible ties would draw you back together again."
He would know. His close-knit bonds with SEES were the only reason he was standing here today. Even when he sacrificed himself, isolating himself somewhere mortal hands couldn't touch, they had found a way to reach him. To save him.
The other boy was staring at him in wonderment. "Is that so?" He closed his eyes, not asking how Minato could know for sure. Perhaps he could simply tell from the conviction in his voice. ". . . That's good to hear."
The bell rang, signifying the end of their lunch break. The two of them stood up, one feeling calmer and more certain, one happy to have been of help.
As Minato turned away, a voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Hey."
He turned back to see Godou smiling at him sheepishly.
"Thanks for the pep talk. I think I really needed it."
He smiled in response.
xxx
Minato blinked.
He had just come back from school, ready to relax after a long day, only to find that a new building had popped up next to his home. A building that was blue, silky, and had the rather conspicuous name of "The Velvet Room" emblazoned out front.
It was obvious as to who was behind this.
As he opened the door and stepped in, a cat immediately fell on his face.
He sighed as the black furball crawled over his face, climbing to her favored perch on top of his head.
"You were waiting for that, weren't you?"
Mischief didn't deign to answer, choosing instead to nestle in his hair and purr softly.
"Oh, my first guest! Come in, come in."
He walked forward, approaching the counter where a figure was hunched over, rummaging around in a box before straightening up and revealing the woman he knew and loved.
"Good afternoon, Minato! How was school?"
"Fine." He glanced around, noticing the various shelves filled with books lining the room. "You opened up your own library?"
"Bookstore, actually."
He tilted his head in surprise.
"Apparently, becoming a librarian requires me to have qualifications," Elizabeth explained. "Qualifications I can only acquire by partaking in your education system for several years, which I find to be a droll prospect. No offense."
"None taken." As a student himself, he could personally attest that her impression of the school system wasn't entirely inaccurate.
"I decided that the next best option would be to open a bookstore! Peddling wares is a time-honored occupation that any layman can pick up."
He nodded. "And the building?"
"Ah, I asked the History Compilation Committee to help me out with that. I even offered to pay them for the service, but they assured me that such compensation was unnecessary."
He glanced around, taking in the structure that had apparently been erected in the span of a school day. "Awfully fast of them."
"Indeed! I was surprised as well, but the workers told me they had quite a bit of experience quickly rebuilding parts of the city after a Heretic God attack." She swept her arm out. "In any case, feel free to look around! I heard from the others that reading was a favored pastime of yours, was it not?"
He nodded absentmindedly as he scanned the shelves. Being a quiet person, he had been naturally drawn to places where he could mind his own business without being disturbed. And what better place for his purposes other than a library?
Minato had spent long hours in libraries, reading book after book with his headphones on, flipping pages to the steady beat of his music. After his introduction to the Dark Hour, he hadn't had much time for such activities anymore, but now that his mission was over, he could afford to relax more.
His hand stilled, fingers tracing the title of a particular book that had caught his attention. It was a bland book, with no cover image and no author.
The title was:
The Dark Hour
He flipped it open and started reading. It was about a boy who had been lost at a young age, finding his place in the world. A boy who met people who would become lifelong friends and a tale of the quest they undertook to climb a dark tower and slay the evil god at the top.
It was a book about him.
"I see you found that one."
Elizabeth approached him, a small, gentle smile adorning her face. "I asked your friends about the time you all spent together. The ups and downs, the victories and defeats, the joy and sorrow . . . I compiled it all in here." She glanced at the book he held with fondness. "This way, even if we're a world apart, even if our memories slowly fade, we'll still remember them."
He felt a hitch in his throat. That was . . . it was like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders, one that he hadn't even known was there. It was something he had always known, deep down. After all, even if he claimed that he would never forget them, never forget the dear friends he had stood with through thick and thin, the inexorable march of time was not always so kind as to adhere to his wishes.
He would've forgotten them. Eventually, those cherished memories and happy times would've vanished into the ether. It was inevitable.
But now . . . now he had a failsafe. Tangible, concrete proof. Proof that his friends existed. Proof that they had lived. Proof that the world, the Universe he held inside of him had not been created alone.
He would be eternally grateful for this gift.
"Thank you . . ." he managed to utter.
A small, sad smile. "It was my pleasure."
He slumped down in a chair at one of the reading tables set up in the store, putting on the new headphones he had bought, taking care to avoid disturbing Mischief. The music here was different, but he found himself quickly becoming accustomed to it, steady beats punctuating his reading as he pored over page after page of nostalgic memories.
Enraptured in that trance-like state, Minato felt true, blissful peace.
Alas, that peace was not meant to last as the sound of the door opening heralded the arrival of another guest, one whose eyes quickly homed in on the two of them.
"Elizabeth-sama." The man bowed. "Apologies for the intrusion, but Sayanomiya-san wishes to speak with you – it pertains to the paperwork for this bookstore."
"Hmm? I thought that had been taken care of already?"
The man grimaced. "It appears there has been a slight error . . . it would be best if you could come to rectify things yourself, Elizabeth-sama."
"Oh, very well then. I shall be there shortly." She whirled around to face him. "Come along now, Minato!"
He tore his gaze away from his book, one finger pointing at himself in confusion. "Me?"
"Of course! You are my guide to the human world, are you not? I may require your assistance to solve whatever issue has arisen."
He closed his book with a sigh. Regarding legal matters, he knew about as much as the next person, but he supposed that was still infinitely better than Elizabeth's nonexistent knowledge base about the human legal system.
He hoped it didn't take too long; he wanted to get back to his book as soon as possible.