Disclaimer: All characters and events that take place within the story are fictional. Any relations to real people or events are purely coincidental. All copyrights belong to Atlus.
Art by Zengoro on Pixiv. Thanks so much!
Warning: Deviants explores psychological disorders, thoughts of suicide, attempted suicide, sexual assault, and emotional trauma both from an intrapersonal and interpersonal perspective. If you or anyone you know are suffering from any of the above, please seek professional help.
Wednesday, May 18
After School
Makoto
What was the saying? No plan survives first contact with the enemy?
In her life plans always sufficed. A primary, secondary, and tertiary contingency plan resulted in fallbacks that, if all previous plans failed, you at least had something to resort to that's been thought out. If all your plans failed, you didn't plan well enough. It really started to hit her that her most recent plans were prone to fall apart. She was slipping.
Or maybe she was too eager and needed to slow her roll.
Or maybe she was dealing with something she was entirely unfamiliar with. Yes, that must be it.
No way could she have accurately assessed and planned for three underclassmen who disliked her and were somehow able to change the mental state of another human being. Underclassmen that, before her very eyes, disappeared into thin air. Underclassmen that, as far as outward appearance goes, defied social norms. Underclassmen that, as far as social faux pas goes, slapped her in the face with them. Underclassmen that, from her observations, really didn't like or appreciate authority. Maybe it was a rebellious teenager thing.
Regardless, how could she predict the unpredictable? Much less three unpredictable variables. In short, she couldn't. It was impossible.
So, she supposed that in the planning for circumstances that one is woefully unequipped for, then yes, no plan survives first contact with the enemy. Not that the revelation or adjustment of the saying helped in her current predicament in any way. Nor had this ever been a part of any plan to begin with.
"What do you want?" Takamaki made no attempt to hide the acid in her voice.
Perhaps she didn't hear her the first time? No, that was unlikely. They were all so focused on her when she'd appeared. A clarification, then. "I want to help you save Kitagawa Yusuke and change Madarame's heart."
Takamaki opened her mouth to speak but was cut off with Amamiya's hand. "Let's go somewhere else, shall we? Somewhere we know we won't be overheard." He had the decency not to glare at her.
It was an awkward train ride to Yongen-jaya. She was flanked by Takamaki and Sakamoto, who didn't let her out of arm's reach. All she could do was stare at the back of Amamiya, who led them on through the quaint streets of an old town with the ease of familiarity. There was only one place they could be taking her.
"Ease up, you two," Amamiya said as they rounded a corner. "You haven't met Sakura yet, but we get on well enough that I don't think he'd protest having my friends over."
With a jingle of a bell, they stepped into Leblanc. From its French rooted name she was expecting something classy. It wasn't. Well worn in it was a hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that was cozy nonetheless. It had a lot of character. She liked it.
"Wel- Oh, you're back early." The man she presumed to be 'Sakura' immediately shifted his attention to the newcomers. "Wellll, what do we have here? Friends of yours? Didn't know you had it in you, kiddo."
Amamiya rolled his eyes. "Yeah, thanks. We'll be upstairs." There was a pause before he added, "and quiet."
"Whooooa, whoa, not so fast," Sakura moved to bring out four cups. "They're your guests."
Amamiya blinked at the cups before shaking his head, seemingly alarmed at his own behavior. "Right, what was I thinking? You guys can head up first. I'll be right up."
Sakura ran a hand down his face. "Not even going to introduce us? Did no one teach you manners?" He turned to them, a friendly grin curling his lips. "Sakura Sojiro, I run Leblanc and house this rascal." He jerked a thumb at Amamiya. "But please, just call me Boss."
Amamaiya feigned hurt as he moved to ready the beverages. Tea, by the looks of it. "How come I can't call you Boss?"
"Shove it, kid. I'm thinking about it."
The good-natured bantering gave her a pretty clear idea of their relationship. She was envious. Home was lonely when Sae wasn't around and suffocating when she was. It hadn't always been like that. But lately… She shook the thought from her head. Not now.
Leaving Amamiya to lick his wounds, the blonde gave Saku… Boss… a brilliant smile. "Takamaki Ann. I'm Ren's classmate."
"Lovely to meet you."
"Ryuji," he reached out for a handshake, which Boss took with a vigorous shake. "Ren's told me 'bout you. Thanks for lookin' after him."
"Has he now?" Boss' eyes narrowed on the boy in question. "Good things, I hope."
Amamiya didn't let the opportunity pass as he began pouring the drinks. "I'm thinking about it," he quipped.
Boss rolled his eyes. "Smart ass."
Guess it was her turn. "I'm Niijima Makoto. A third-year and the Student Council President."
Boss stroked his goatee. "President, huh? Kid isn't causing you any trouble, is he?"
"No, sir."
"Boss."
"No, Boss."
"Good. Let's hope it stays that way," Boss said pointedly. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. But don't let this old man hold you up any longer."
As if on cue Amamiya finished placing the cups on a tray. "Up we go."
Scaling the single flight of creaky stairs they entered what she guessed was Amamiya's room. Barren of personal belongings it looked more like a storage space than a place that someone slept in. Sae would kill her if she let the apartment get even a tenth this dusty.
"Sit anywhere you'd like," Amamiya offered as he seated himself on the mattress, the black cat hopping up next to him.
Takamaki and Sakamoto quickly settled onto the couch and she had to awkwardly move past them to sit at the desk. She noted the wood shavings and indentations on the surface, as well as the small assortment of tools on the shelf. "A hobby of yours?"
"Extracurricular activity, more like," Amamiya said, causing her to stiffen. "One that you seem interested in." Oh boy. "What do you know?"
Straight with it, huh? She at least appreciated addressing the elephant in the room. "I know that you three are the Phantom Thieves."
"For real?"
Amamiya ignored Sakamoto. "Oh? Do share."
"Other than the outburst just now… I did some digging after…" She glanced carefully at Takamaki. "The jump. I thought it strange how all the videos and evidence regarding it suddenly disappeared. No news reports, nothing. I found it suspicious that the school would sweep it under the rug. I started to wonder why, then remembered you three were particularly affected."
She wondered if she should mention looking through their student files. She would be admitting to breaching their privacy, and that would hardly help her garner trust but… so would lying.
"I looked into your files. I know, I know. But from those I made a connection between the three of you, finding a link to Kamoshida." Takamaki winced, but otherwise said nothing. "If I may, speak my theory?"
She took the drawn out silence as a yes.
"Takamaki and Suzui are best friends and Sakamoto went to the same school. I recalled the incident of self defense that took place last year, along with the sudden fall of the track team and rise of the volleyball team. Suzui is a starter on the volleyball team, and Takamaki was rumored to have been having relations with Kamoshida, which has since then been proven false. Amamiya has a criminal record, and certain events led to people talking about Takamaki cheating on Kamoshida with Amamiya. In short, you all had a reason to hold a grudge against Kamoshida.
"I noticed you three being together a lot, and the calling card pieced together the rest of the picture. From what was written, I can… surmise what caused Suzui to do what she did."
"That hardly proves we're the Phantom Thieves," Takamaki sounded bitter.
Was Takamaki just going to ignore the fact that she appeared as they agreed on their next target?
"True, but it made you highly suspicious. I then…" she cleared her throat. "Started tailing you." She pulled out her phone and played back the first conversation she overheard.
Takamaki looked more and more appalled as the recording continued. Sakamoto leaned back into the sofa, arms crossed. Amamiya looked concerned and impressed.
"Looks like the Thieves are back in business."
She hit the pause button and continued. "From that, it was more or less confirmed. I just needed to figure out how you went about changing hearts. I've been following you everyday since the art exhibition. I know you've made contact with Kitagawa Yusuke, and I know you can somehow disappear from plain sight. I heard your conversation with Nakonohara as well. This more or less leads us up to today."
She picked up her glass and drank, glad for the cool tea that ran down her parched throat, as the Phantom Thieves took in what she'd just said. "How does that match up to the actual events?"
"Pretty much exactly it," Sakamoto muttered, impressed. She felt a hint of pride at that.
"Does anyone else know?" Amamiya asked, eyes never leaving her.
Ah… right… She'd left that part out on purpose. She figured she'd have time to debate what to divulge but, as of now she really didn't see a point in the continued omission. It wouldn't harm Yoshizawa in any way. Not after she'd confirmed that the Phantom Thieves are out to help people.
"Yes, just one: Yoshizawa Kasumi. I confided in her with this information because… well… let's just say I had my suspicions that Kamoshida had his eye on her in a less than savory manner."
"Did… anything happen?" Takamaki asked in a small voice.
She froze, slowly placing her glass onto the desk. Her hand, however, didn't release it and instead tightened, her knuckles whitening. No sense sparking their imagination. "He attempted to. But luckily nothing more than that."
"That bastard!" Sakamoto roared as she watched all three of their emotions flare.
She noted how concern and relief flickered across all their features. Yoshizawa was integrating herself with them better than she'd admitted. The girl was a mess when they met up after the art exhibition, denying anything she asked and as red as a beet.
"So when she was at the art exhibition…" Amamiya's voice trailed off. She could almost see him thinking.
"It was to tail you, yes." She almost winced alongside them, now realizing just how bad it sounded. "Please, don't misunderstand. Her intentions are genuine. I was the one that suggested she integrate herself into your group, since… you have an obvious distaste for me. And Kawakami-sensei had already connected you two. It was a… method for me. Even if the Phantom Thieves weren't a part of the equation I think she'd like to know you all."
"And what about you?" Takamaki asked.
This wasn't a question she was expecting. No plans survive contact with the enemy, was it? She hadn't thought about it. Did she want to get to know Takamaki Ann, Sakamoto Ryuji, and Amamiya Ren? Or did she want to know the Phantom Thieves?
Takamaki didn't let her think it through. "Are we just a means to absolve your guilty conscience?"
"No! I…" She just wanted to help.
"What?" Takamaki dared, standing. "You what?"
"Ann-"
"Stay out of this, Ren!" Takamaki's ire returned to her, now heightened. "Where were you when that man was having his way?"
She was averting her eyes like everyone else. 'Be a good girl and stay out of trouble.'
"Where were you when Shiho jumped?"
She was standing on the sidelines, doing nothing. 'Don't do anything unnecessary.'
"Where were you when we solved everyone's problem?"
She was investigating them. 'Don't waste your time with things that don't concern you.'
"What are we to you, Ms. Student Council President?!"
They were her responsibility. 'Your education is your only responsibility, Makoto.'
"You're useless."
The word was such a shock that her mind went blank. White noise rang in her ears as she felt shame flush her entire body, down to the tips of her toes. Her vision swam and she couldn't see. Was she shutting her eyes or had a part of her brain shut down entirely? She couldn't have spoken if she wanted to, the lump in her throat was so big.
"Go home, prez."
"What?" Her voice was hollow and empty.
"This… ain't exactly the right mood to make a decision."
Takamaki had sat back down, eyes hard on her with a clear message: Get out.
"We have some things to discuss internally," Amamiya explained. We'll talk about this again tomorrow, okay?"
She rose from her seat, wiping her eyes as she gathered her belongings.
"I'm sorry I… I'll take my leave, then."
Ren
He sighed internally. Ann could have a heart of gold but… she knew how to hold grudges. "Satisfied, Ann?" he probed, eyes watching the president's back from the window until she disappeared around the corner.
"I feel like shit."
"Yeah, no shit?" Ryuji smirked.
"Not funny or witty," Ann spat. "She just wants to feel better about herself."
He recalled Ann's face during her awakening. The look of utter despair and defeat. "I'm not so sure about that. I think you may have just given her the push she needed."
"Great, so she's going to bother us again?" Ann said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm and annoyance. "Maybe I should've been harsher."
"Are you… seriously considering bringing her on board, Ren?" Morgana's tail flicked.
He raised an eyebrow. "Not going to object this time?"
"No… She's already at the edge. She'll either break under the pressure or find her will to rebel."
"You can't be serious," Ann laughed mirthlessly. "Her? You want to work with her?"
"Ann, we all have our reasons, don't we?" He asked rhetorically. "We all have our reasons to fight back."
"That doesn't mean we have to bring in everyone who does!"
"So what? We turn her down? Do you remember how that worked out when Ryuji and I did the same thing?" He watched her scowl deepen. "You didn't listen to us!"
"That was different."
"How?"
"Because her best friend didn't jump off a fucking building!"
They were both standing now, staring each other down.
"You both need to cool it," Morgana chastised them like they were children. "There's few of us as is and this is going to tear us apart if you continue. She knows about us and our activities. She doesn't know about the Metaverse… yet. But if she continues on the path she's on, it's only a matter of time."
They both sat down, attention now on Morgana.
"She's been tailing us for the past three days, and not one of us noticed. She saw us go into the Metaverse for crying out loud! We turn her away and she's going to follow us in without our knowledge. And I don't know about you, but I'd rather not have another hostage scenario.
"I vote to bring her with us. I'd rather know she was close at hand where we can keep an eye on her then cut her loose in the world. She knows your identities. Who's to say she won't change her mind about telling anyone?"
"We got Madarame to take care of, too," Ryuji added. "Gotta save Kitagawa, right? We can't delay that."
No… they couldn't. "You're right… sorry."
Ann said nothing, likely too heated to admit the regret that flashed across her face.
"So, your votes for bringing the president with us? Unanimous decisions, remember?" Morgana reminded them.
"Bring 'er in," Ryuji raised his hand.
"Don't have a choice, do we?" Ann added her vote, albeit begrudgingly.
He raised his hand, sealing the deal. "We bring her in then." He checked the time. "It's still early enough, how about we go bag us a Treasure?" It might help them blow off some steam.
Ryuji
Goodie two shoes Miss Prez was suddenly stalking them and, somehow, was pretty damn good at it. It annoyed the hell outta him knowing that they didn't catch on but who could have predicted someone whippin' up a whole ass disguise? He couldn't help but admire her a bit for it. Not that he'd say that with Panther around. Especially with the mood she was in.
"Carmen!"
The heat from the flames made his skin feel like paper over a flame, crinkling and blistering from the intensity. Somehow it seemed even hotter than usual. In the temperature way.
Beaten up? Sure. Broken bone? Done that. Stabbed? He was sure he could handle it. Being lit on fire though? He didn't want nothin' to do with that. He'd burned himself on the stove once when he was six and he didn't go near the thing anymore.
He rushed in, exchanging a high five with Panther and zapping a Shadow that looked like… well… he didn't care. All he knew was that it fell over, stunned, leaving them all an opening to rush in and finish them all off.
He loved this part. When the Thieves really moved like a single unit. They were sloppy at first, constantly needing to make call outs. But now? A well oiled machine. That was the saying, right? All that time in Mementos where they could really dial in on reading the situation without much danger paid off. They could recognize when they needed to swap out, who needed to do what, and they performed at a whole 'nother level. Maybe that's what he loved about it. It was like a high performance team that dominated the competition.
Joker came in for a quick slash across the legs. Panther's whip snapped around one of the Shadow's legs and brought it down. Mona leapt up and over, slashing at its arms along the way. And he just came in and hit the damn thing as hard as he could with a satisfying crack. Maybe he should consider playin' baseball.
"Good work, team!" Mona praised as the Shadows dissipated one after another.
Fighting the Shadows in the Palace was a little intimidating the first couple times. They weren't quite sure what to expect. But it didn't take long to get a handle on the Shadow's strengths and weaknesses, with Joker focusing on skills that the rest of the Thieves didn't have. Once he started getting an idea of what they could expect to encounter, the fights started to get more streamlined.
Gettin' to fight in a museum in itself was pretty exciting. Yeah, the atmosphere was subdued and whatever, but definitely not a place you'd normally get into fights. Museums were supposed to be all "classy" and "quiet." Instead there were explosions, thunder claps, and gunshots in lieu of silent contemplation and appreciation of the arts.
And with Joker leading the way, they made quick progress. That nerd probably had the map memorized. He couldn't imagine. He was just thankful someone else was doin' it. He was a little jealous Joker was the only one allowed to drive in Mementos, though. So what if he accidently ran them into the wall once? Okay, it was four times but who really was counting? Oh yeah, everyone. He'd never live it down, apparently.
"Let's keep the pace," Joker declared, barely winded.
"Hell yeah!" he loved that he didn't have to contain his enthusiasm and just go wild in the Metaverse. Bein' able to do this and save the world at the same time? Epic.
Was he an adrenaline junkie? Was he the only one? Oh well, what doesn't kill ya makes ya stronger, right?
Makoto
The return home was a daze. She felt robotic, and most certainly was running on automatic. Train pass, wait behind the yellow line, board the train, no seat, grab a handrail, exit train, climb the stairs, walk to her apartment building, wait for the elevator, board the elevator, exit the elevator, walk down the hall, unlock the door, enter the apartment, close the door, lock the door, take off her shoes, drop her bag, plop onto the couch, be reduced into a crying mess.
Takamaki's words echoed in her head. "You're useless."
In a single word, Takamaki Ann had bundled all the emotions she had been feeling. The guilt, the shame, the regret, and wrapped it nice and pretty with a bow and gave her the word that encapsulated all of it. What she was. Who she was. A useless girl that couldn't do a single thing.
What was she doing? As if the Phantom Thieves needed her help. They certainly didn't seem to want it. What could she even do to help? She couldn't disappear like they could. She couldn't defy all the norms that she'd been taught. She couldn't do anything other than what she knew, which was pitifully little.
She could cook, clean, and study. How was that going to help someone from attempting suicide? What was she going to do for the Phantom Thieves? Be their maid? So what if Amamiya's room was dusty? He could certainly do it without her help.
Sure she practiced Aikido at some point, but what use was that against Phantom Thieves? For all she knew, they could phase right through her. She still didn't know how they stole hearts. They certainly didn't go beat up Kamoshida. And she doubted they'd feel good about beating up an old man like Madarame, even if he was ruining lives. Unless Amamiya Ren really was that kind of guy.
From what she'd observed while tailing him, Amamiya really didn't seem like that kind of person. He had an assault on his record, sure, but he picked up litter when it crossed his path, worked several part time jobs including a flower shop, and didn't get into any trouble that she knew of. He was either genuinely a good person or an outstanding actor and liar.
Unlike her.
Going about her life like those around her didn't matter. Could they not see the pressure she was under? How come they didn't notice how hard she was trying? She tried to meet the expectations others had for her.
"Makoto?"
She jumped, having not even heard Sae open the door and enter. "Sis! You're home?" Sae never came home early. Was it that late? A glance out the window confirmed her suspicions. "I'm sorry, Sis, I'll get started on dinner right away!"
"I just came by to pick up a few things." She noticed the aggressive edge that seeped into her sister's voice and braced herself. "You know I work hard everyday so you don't have to worry about having a roof over your head and food on the table. Then I come home and find you moping on the couch? What do you have to feel sorry about?"
No matter what she did, she always found a way to mess up. Always found a way to disappoint. Her eyes squeezed shut, lips tight. For once, she wished Sae would just take the time to talk to her. For once, she wished Sae would just listen to her. For once, she wished Sae would just drop the prosecutor side of her at work and come home and be her sister.
For the first time, she willingly became vulnerable. "I'm sorry, Sis! I don't know what to do! I feel like I'm doing the best I can and it's never enough!"
"'Don't know what to do?'" Sae's glare narrowed. "Makoto, I told you what to do. You become successful in school, find a job, and stand on your own two feet. Is that so hard? You don't have any other responsibilities. No bills, no politicking in the office, no useless deadbeat hanging onto your coattails making life difficult!"
Any tears that were threatening to spill out of her eyes stilled in that moment as Sae's words repeated in her head. Any emotion she felt was shocked into suspension. "Is… Is that what you think of me?" Her words came out no louder than a whisper.
Sae's mouth opened then snapped shut. She looked regretful, but no apology would come out of her mouth. Sae never apologized. Not since Dad died. Whatever emotions raged across her sister's face were expertly controlled a moment later. It was her professional mask. "I have work to do. So do you."
And with those parting words Sae left her alone. Alone. Like she always was and always had been.
Maybe if she was useful Sae would love her. Maybe if she was useful she'd have some purpose. Maybe if she was useful the Phantom Thieves would let her help. Maybe if she was useful she wouldn't be such a failure. Maybe if she was useful none of the problems in her life would be present. Maybe if she was useful she'd have somewhere to belong and be unjudged for being vulnerable.
In her dreams she had that. A group of friends, a sister who loved her, a place she could be herself. But no… she just had to be useless. Her dreams were just a fairytale. Every waking hour reminded her of a single, cold, and dark reality.
No one wanted her… She didn't belong anywhere.
All she could do in that moment was curl into a ball and weep.
It didn't help.
Yusuke
He'd been sitting in front of this canvas for hours, the paint he'd set out long since dried, the brush in his hand painfully still, and the canvas itself unmarked. Another day where beauty eluded him. Another day where he couldn't bear to paint. Another day where the sinking feeling in his chest sank ever deeper.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. And for the first time since he'd settled in front of the easel, he moved. He looked at the screen, disinterested until the words registered.
Takamaki Ann: Hi, Kitagawa-kun. This is Takamaki Ann again. I am interested in your modeling proposition.
At last, good news! His heart raced for the first time in what felt like days. He quickly replied: Tomorrow at 3?
Takamaki Ann: That sounds perfect.
"Ha… Hahaha…"
Sensei would still be out. No one else would be home and he'd made it perfectly clear that those two hooligans were unwelcome and uninvited. Finally… His nude masterpiece was only a day away. He was only a day away from witnessing beauty in its purest, unsheltered form. He could feel his pulse in his brain, the ideas flowing into him. He just had to hold onto those for another day.
"HAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAHA!"
"YUSUKE!" Sensei appeared in the doorway.
"Ahem…" He cleared his throat. "I apologize, Sensei. I don't know what overcame me."
"As long as you understand…"
"I feel that I will make progress tomorrow, Sensei. Your next artwork-"
"Just get it done, Yusuke."
Whatever inspiration or excitement he had vanished. Sensei had no interest in the piece he was making. There just had to be one.
Looking at the blank canvas filled him with dread once again. "Yes… Sensei."
Thursday, May 19
After School
Makoto
"Come with us," Amamiya had said.
"We've decided to let you make your own choice," he'd said.
"It will be confusing at first," he'd said.
Confusing was an understatement.
Of all the processes she suspected a changing heart to occur with… The reality was not one of them.
Strong cognitive distortions turned the truth within an individual's heart into a physically tangible world in an entirely other dimension: the Metaverse.
The Metaverse allows no deception in what the Rulers thought of their reality. It withheld none of the horrors the Palaces hid between its walls. People as nothing more than portraits. People as nothing more than slaves. People as nothing more than things to be used and abused. Within the Metaverse, you couldn't hide what you felt.
She'd nearly thrown up when the Phantom Thieves shared stories of Kamoshida's castle.
Strong desires coalesced into a Treasure that the Rulers guarded jealously. It was the key to their distortion, the single thread that held it all together. Take that away and it all fell apart. They'd recognize the gravity of their sins and crimes. They'd turn themselves in and confess. Just like Kamoshida had.
It was simple, really. But no one could have dreamed this up.
She wasn't even sure why she was here in this alternate dimension. Maybe it was curiosity- the burning need to have an answer. Now she just had to figure out the important ones. The answers that actually mattered.
No answer to Takamaki's question had come to her over a night of restlessness. No solution to becoming useful. No idea of how she was in any way shape or form, help the Phantom Thieves.
"I… don't know why I'm here," she admitted as herself, Amamiya, and Sakamoto waited outside a door that 'wouldn't open' and was locked behind a laser security fence.
The door apparently matched the appearance of one in Madarame's house. According to Amamita… or Joker, he'd insisted… Madarame had to see the door open in reality in order for it to open in the Metaverse. A change in reality influencing the Metaverse, removing a cognitive block or wall.
Their plan to get the door open was Takamaki and Joker's cat, Morgana, would enter Madarame's residence under the pretense of following through with modeling for Kitagawa's art (for whatever reason Joker always snickered whenever that was brought up). Morgana would somehow lockpick the door, and Madarame would then have to see Takamaki inside the previously locked room. Then Joker and Skull enter and find a way to turn off the security system permanently. The door itself should remain open.
The only trouble was that they had to wait until Madarame returned home, which was an unknown time.
So here they were, waiting.
Joker idly twirled a knife between his fingers, the blade tracing a complicated series of graceful arcs. She almost regretted asking. Joker gave her a momentary side eye without pausing before cryptically responding, "You'll figure it out."
Skull shrugged. "Eh, if ya really didn't want to find out ya wouldn't have agreed to come. That counts for something, Prez."
That didn't help at all. Time to try for another question, then. "Why did you bring me here?"
"We all agreed that we'd show you how we did things and inform you of the risks and dangers," Joker answered clearly this time, which she was thankful for. "After that, it really is up to you and your will to rebel."
Right… her will to rebel. She tried to wrap her head around it and from what they'd said about their own experiences it didn't make a lot of logical sense. They just sounded like they got really pissed off when they Awakened to their Personas… And got their outfits.
A Persona, the manifestation of one's will to rebel. One's Shadow, now tamed and tempered.
Their outfits, a reflection of their inner rebel and image of what it looked like.
She idly wondered what her Persona and outfit would look like. Hopefully it wasn't anything too embarrassing.
As if she had a will to rebel in the first place. She couldn't possibly have that in her. The prior day filled with tears and snowballing thoughts didn't give her confidence.
But wait, all of them agreed, including Takamaki Ann? That couldn't be right.
"Hey, it's opening!" Skull said, interrupting her thoughts as the door was, indeed, opening. "Panther and Mona did it!"
Joker plucked the knife out of the air and sheathed it with a single, deft movement. "Let's go." He turned to her. "Stay close and follow our instructions. Don't wander off."
She didn't say anything and only gave a terse nod. It felt weird relinquishing authority and command to someone younger than her, but she fully admitted she was way outside of her element here. She'd leave it to the experts for this one.
Joker and Skull ran, light on their feet, barely making a sound as they raced through the door. She barely managed to keep up as they entered a small lobby with a closed door in front of them.
The Phantom Thieves must have heard something because Joker grabbed her and they ducked behind a potted plant large enough to obscure them both. Skull dived in behind them.
"Shhh," Joker put a finger to his lips, his eyes only leaving hers when she nodded, breathing heavily against the gloved hand that covered her mouth.
The door opened, a security guard dressed in red walked out and just stood there.
"What do we do, Joker?" Skull whispered, eyeing the open door behind the guard.
"No choice, we take 'em. Niijima, stay here."
Joker didn't wait for a response before he slipped out of cover, quick as a mouse. He slid behind the guard, leaping onto its back, grabbing its face and tearing.
She hadn't seen them fight the Shadows, only carefully avoided them on the way here. She wasn't quite expecting the Shadow to burst into a large, lion or tiger looking creature with a snake tail. A chimera? It was honestly kinda cute.
It roared, swiping at Joker who balanced precariously on its back. Joker leapt back to safety, standing upright and examining the edge of his knife.
"Who are you?!" the lion demanded, eyes red with fury. "Are you those thieves that dare to threaten Lord Madarame?"
Joker smirked, shrugging. "Ah, shoot. Now that you know we gotta… you know," he gestured towards the creature. "Keep you quiet."
"You will not take another step, vagabond!" The Shadow rose to its full height, standing easily twenty feet tall. "I will take your heads and present them to my lord!"
It brought down a heavy claw before Joker could retort. She flinched as it slammed into the floor, scattering tiles and debris. Joker rolled out of harm's way, hand swiping across his mask. "Makami, tarunda!"
A flat, long-bodied gray dog creature exploded from behind Joker, an ear-piercing shriek leaving his snort snout, making her wince.
Skull dashed from cover, yelling as he went. "Let's go, Captain Kidd!"
A large skeleton standing on a ship smashed the Shadow with a headbutt and sickening crunch. The Shadow retaliated with a claw swipe, hitting Captain Kidd with a solid impact, sending the Persona into its summoner as they both landed in a heap.
"Dia!" Joker swiped his mask again, a warm, green light enveloping Skull.
"Thanks!" Skull and Captain Kidd hopped back to their feet.
"Just die!" The Shadow screamed as black tendrils outlined with red rose up around the Thieves, both of them gasping at the height of the effect.
"Fuckin' hell you're annoying," Skull raced up to it, smashing his club into its foot as Captain Kidd zapped it with lightening. The sour smell of burnt hair made her cover her nose.
She quickly realized this was not a fight any normal person could be in. The hits the Shadow dealt were heavy, sending them flying if it connected. A normal person would have their bones broken, their organs smashed. But the Phantom Thieves shrugged it off, some easier than others, and continued laying into the creature.
"Can't find a weakness," Joker grunted as the Shadow shrugged off an ice attack.
"Just means we gotta do this the ol' fashioned way!" Skull roared, running in once again.
As heart-pounding as it was to watch, she could only admire the way the Phantom Thieves moved. Radically different in their approach but mesmerizing in their own way. Joker with his graceful agility, diving in opportunistically and out of harm's way. Skull with his brazen, border-line reckless assault that didn't give the enemy any respite. Whatever one did, the other adapted and complimented.
"Agi!" Flames erupted around the creature, its scream of pain louder than any previous one before it, too real to be a hoax.
"Ya found it!" Skull's grin widened maddeningly, Joker only grunting in response as they dove in. "Smash it!"
By the time they were finished the Shadow was a broken heap before dissipating into black liquid, leaving the Thieves to dust themselves off and catch a breath.
"That was… Wow…" she said, wide-eyed as she stepped out of her hiding spot.
"Incredible?" Joker finished, smirking.
"Frightening," she said, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
"Yeah, well… just another day," Skull bashfully scratched the back of his head.
"Let's keep going," Joker urged them on. "Clock's ticking."
It didn't take long to find a room with a switch to keep the door open. Easy enough.
They'd barely taken two steps out when they heard screaming from above.
The boy she recognized as Kitagawa Yusuke fell from the sky and landed not four feet in front of her with a pained grunt. A girl in a skintight red bodysuit landed on top of him, spurring another grunt. A large… thing fell on top of the girl, a third grunt escaping with a tone of finality.
Joker and Skull started righting the three after the initial shock wore off, sitting them up and disentangling the mass of limbs.
"You guys did it!" Skull hollered excitedly. "You guys actually effin did it!"
"Who do you think we are?" the… cat(?) asked with a hint of arrogance. "Of course myself and Lady Ann could perform such a magnificent feat."
Wait… a cat?
"Morgana?!"
"Oh right, you haven't seen me in this form," Morgana looked at himself like it was only occurring to him. "And it's Mona, here."
Right… Mona… of course. A cat that could talk. Lovely.
"Where… are we?" Kitagawa looked around, eyes wide and uncertain. "Who are you people?!"
"It's me, Takamaki! Just stay calm!" Takamaki said. The suit really gave no room for imagination. She looked good.
Kitagawa cupped his chin, staring at Mona with unrestrained curiosity. "What is this?"
"A cat," Skull answered simply.
"I am not a cat!"
"I see. Understandable," Kitagawa nodded, satisfied.
Was she the only normal one here?
"Why are you here, anyways?" Skull directed to Kitagawa.
"That is a question I would love for you to answer," came the response.
"Explain while we move, we can't stay here," Joker began pulling at her arm. "We can watch over one person, but two? No way. We're leaving for now. Skull and Panther, Kitagawa's yours. Mona, with me."
They hurriedly dashed the way they'd come, Joker cursing as alarms began to blare loudly around them. Their pace doubled, practically sprinting.
She wasn't a slouch when it came to her physical fitness, but the pace was brutal. Huffing and puffing she was practically being dragged along. It hurt her pride that the Phantom Thieves seemed to barely be breaking a sweat as they navigated the now spinning corridors. At least Kitagawa was faring even worse than she was, the boy looked like he was on death's door with how pale he was.
"We got through that door, just like we planned," Panther said as they ran, barely a change in her breathing. "Then we found a room. Madarame threatened to report us, so we ran."
"Shit, really?" Skull cursed. "Great, just great."
Yusuke
"We're in Madarame's heart," Takamaki said, eyeing him to make sure he was still with them. "I know it sounds crazy, but this whole place is what Madarame truly feels."
"He's a money lovin' greedy ass bastard," the boy who suspiciously looked like someone he particularly disliked said.
He wanted to deny it… but he couldn't. Not after what he saw.
Sayuri was there. Dozens upon dozens of canvas copies of Sayuri were in the room that Sensei kept under lock and key. The one room where Yusuke was never allowed. A storage room for old paintings, Sensei had said. If only that were true.
He'd never seen Sensei so upset, finding them in that room. The rage in his eyes was palpable, like coals in an inferno.
And the lies that spilled from Sensei's mouth afterwards…
Severe debt. Copying Sayuri to stay afloat. The original work stolen.
And Takamaki Ann pulling back a curtain and revealing the real thing.
Sensei fervently denied it, the rage returning, almost desperate for him to believe his words.
But he had seen the original in person once as a boy. He knew the brush strokes, the color, the calmness that enveloped him in a gentle embrace. He knew that his eyes did not deceive him. The real Sayuri had been in front of him.
Then Sensei threatened them and they ran.
The image of false Sayuri's surrounding him like ghosts haunted him. The debauchery held in that room. The flippant disregard for the arts. A line no self-respecting artist should cross.
"This is his true nature," Takamaki gestured to the rich carpets, the luxurious decor, and the ostentatious pictures of Sensei.
This repulsive world, rife with glitz and glamor, riches and luxuries… was Sensei's heart. The man who took him in and kept him safe for ten years… The Sensei he thought he knew was a lie. He didn't exist.
Even if Sensei was a liar and a fraud, he still felt gratitude towards him. The security Sensei had given him was real. The food Sensei had fed him was real. The skills Sensei had imparted upon him were real. He couldn't dismiss the fact that Sensei had still done good things for him. He couldn't hate him.
Paintings of faces and people he knew and respected were mounted on the walls, a simple plaque with the names and age the only honor given to those Sensei had used and discarded. Objects were all Sensei saw them as. It was vile.
His heart threatened to be ripped in two as the dichotomy of who he thought Sensei was and the Sensei he saw warred in his mind. Rationality could only get him so far before the past and all the emotions it brought collided.
He could barely form a coherent thought between the physical exertion and the mental overload when he realized they'd come to a stop. Looking up he saw why.
Sensei was there, right in front of them along with dozens of guards. Spotlights fixed on their position, giving them nowhere to hide.
He looked so different from the Sensei he knew.
The one he knew wore modest clothes and donned humility like a cloak.
The one in front of him wore a golden kimono of the finest quality and donned arrogance. A gold handled katana was sheathed in a golden saya, resting on his hip.
"Sensei?"
"The hell is this?" the boy in the skull mask scoffed. "Ya some kinda shogun or something?"
"Yusuke, my boy… welcome to the museum of the master artist Madarame," Sensei spread his arms wide, pride in his smile. Not pride for him, he could tell.
"This… is all a big lie, right? Sensei… please… tell me this is all my imagination- a prank!" Please, be the man he knew him to be. The kind, humble-
"My usual ragged attire is nothing but a front." It took the wind out of his sails. "A famous person living in that shack? Please, Yusuke… I have another home. One that is under the name of a mistress. Her skin is so young and smooth, Yusuke. I know you'd like her."
"No…" Sensei was calm. Sensei was serene. Sensei was above all the hedonistic needs and desires. "Why?! Why make copies of Sayuri? For wealth? For fame? Please, Sensei," his voice broke along with his heart. Don't be a lie.
The silence was deafening. A pin could be heard if it dropped. The words came loud and clear to him.
"You fool."
He shut his eyes, head downcast. He didn't want to look at this false Sensei anymore. This wasn't the real Sensei.
"The real being stolen was a lie I concocted. It was a calculated decision. Imagine it, Yusuke. One of the world's most desirable paintings is missing, stolen and hidden away. Then comes the original painter with the real one. Collectors and enthusiasts from all over come scrambling, hands filled with money! Oh so much money! I sell one here and there, claiming it to be the original and a secret, and these suckers eat it right up! Mount it on their walls like a trophy! Fools, all of them!"
"But what about art? What about bringing beauty to this world?" That was what being an artist was, was it not? Surely Sensei could see that. Money could only go so far but beauty was inequivocabile.
"Beauty is merely an illusion, Yusuke. What's wrong with providing that illusion to such eager customers?"
His head hurt, pounding with every beat of his heart. He clutched his head, thumbs pressing hard into his temples. Lies… they had to be.
"Art itself is but a tool, Yusuke. A tool for money and fame. And you, Yusuke… have been the most excellent tool."
He thought of the pictures. Of his fellow peers that he'd lived with. "What about all the others? Those that you took under your wing? What of those who believe in your work?"
"Fools, Yusuke. I trampled all of them under my foot. Why do you think none of them have made it in the art world? It was me, Yusuke. I stomped them out."
And he was under the care of such a wretched man. He'd trusted him. He'd believed in him. He'd have died for him. "You would stifle such creativity. You would diminish one's passion. All in the name of greed?!"
"Why of course. Have you not been listening? It's so much easier to steal from promising, helpless children."
"Just like me…" he whispered.
"I AM ART, YUSUKE! All ideas belong to me! This is no different from livestock being killed for their meat! Can't you see?"
"This is the man who has earned your respect?" A voice hauntingly familiar called out to him.
He looked up, seeing himself with yellow eyes. Engulfed in the most elegant of blue flames.
"He may have taken you in, yes, but he scorns you and all you love."
"Sensei is saying it all in jest, he must be!" A lie.
"And still you defend his honor!" Yellow-eyed him gave an unbelieving chuckle. "To think you are so blind."
"My eyes are clear!" A lie.
"Do you truly believe that?" his doppelganger snarled. "After all you've seen and heard? Your 'Sensei' is right, Yusuke. You are a fool."
"I am not a fool!" A lie.
"And yet you let the man you respect and adore to trample on everything the art world stands for. Beauty? Please, Yusuke. Your canvas has remained blank for weeks. And your 'Sensei' demands more more more more more moremoremoremoremoremore! He will wring you dry until there isn't a drop of passion left within you."
He'd defended that man's honor. Denied those that had ridiculed him. Fervently ignored the rumors of plagiarism and theft. Believed in the man who had raised him. Loved him.
"Ten years you've let those you respect and adore be whittled away to nothing. A shell of who they once were."
He dropped to his knees. Was it his fault?
"He's already taken everything from you. He speaks as if he were a god. He is art? The arrogance. Art is only given meaning by those that lay their eyes upon it. That is an undeniable truth." His doppelganger grabbed him by the face, forcing him to look into its unnatural yellow eyes. "What is he? Tell me. Your benefactor? Your Sensei? Your master? Your teacher? You father?"
His heart pulsed, a wave of pain flowing through his body like none he'd felt before. He broke out in sweat, his skull felt like it would split in two. A spike driven brutally through his skull and into his eyes. He felt his nails scratching at the floor, tearing away from the sensitive flesh of his fingertips. The most beautiful red streaks of blood trailing in its wake.
No… it was Sensei's fault. "He's a fraud… The most deprived of thieves," he spit through gritted teeth.
His mirror smiled, a vicious sneer. "Ten years you've looked away. Ten years you've clouded your vision."
"That ends today," he swore through the pain. He felt a burning in him. A passion that he'd never felt in all his years. Was this disgust? Was this rage?
"So many have been lost."
"Then I shall avenge them." All the pain. All the wasted potential. All the despair and loss. He'll shoulder all of it. The blues flames swept forth and engulfed him. He welcomed it with open arms. "I'll take back what was stolen from them. I'll carry that burden and succeed for those that have been cast aside!"
"THEN LET US WITNESS THE WORLD FOR WHAT IT TRULY IS… I AM THOU, THOU ART I… THOU WHO HAS REMAINED THE LAST ONE STANDING!"
He outstretched an arm towards Sensei. "You may have been the man to take me in when I lost everything. You may have been the man who showed me the beauty of art." His head no longer ached. He thought clearer than he ever had before. He reached up to the mask on his face, gripping the edges and beginning to rip away. "But I will NEVER forgive you!"
"PAINT YOUR JUSTICE UPON THE CANVAS OF TRUTH! CREATE YOUR MASTERPIECE AND DISPLAY IT SO THAT ALL WHO BEAR WITNESS WILL TREMBLE IN ITS PERFECTION. CALL UPON MY NAME, AND DYE THE WORLD WITH THE BLOOD OF THE BETRAYED!"
"So that they may never be forgotten," he swore. Baptized in flame he tore, the skin going with the fox shaped mask as he felt euphoria like none other. This was his rebirth. "Heed my call… GOEMON!"
An explosion of power. A chill wind gracing the coming winter. An ukiyo-e in its full glory, undeterred by the frost that coated the floor. Smooth, flawless hands swept out of flowing blue robes, a large smoking pipe duly being puffed as it examined all those present, unimpressed.
He faintly registered the black high-collared, puff-sleeved jumpsuit that had replaced his uniform. A striped sash wrapped across his waist, white boots, and bright blue gloves complimented the ensemble. A white fox tail flowed airily from his hip.
Sensei scoffed. "This is how you repay me after all these years? You ungrateful bastard! I tire of this! Guards, dispose of them! All of them!"
The one in the black tri-tailed coat spared him a glance, a knowing smirk on his lips. "You got this?"
He sneered a fox's lopsided grin. "And more."
He launched himself forward, shooting like an arrow towards Sensei. A guard moved to intercept him, katana at the ready.
He watched the blade careen towards him in a distasteful arc. Too slow.
A blue gloved hand grabbed the wrists, twisting. Fingers gripping the sword blossomed like flower petals. His own gripped the now relinquished blade, its edge catching the light and flashing gold, rending the guard in two before it had the chance to transform.
Sensei had drawn his own blade, its cut beautiful. But he knew it was but an illusion.
"Goemon."
A wall of ice erupted next to him. Sensei's blade sliced through it, stopping just short of breaking the ice and separating his neck from his shoulders. If it had truly been beautiful, it wouldn't have stopped the killing blow. A shame.
He held up his own katana. An undecorated sword. A humble blade.
"Come, Sensei. Witness true beauty."
Makoto
She thought she was in over her head with Kamoshida. Now she was most definitely in over her head as a battle between the Phantom Thieves and Shadows raged all around her.
Perhaps it was the confidence she'd seen in the last fight. Perhaps it was the teamwork they'd displayed that made it look easy. Perhaps it was because it was a two-on-one fight. Whatever it was that gave her comfort in the last fight wasn't present here.
All the Thieves were fighting at least one Shadow, some of them fought two or even three at once. Kitagawa himself took on Madarame, flashes of ice and steel matching the blinding speed in which the feeble old man wielded his blade. Too many factors called for their attention, demanding every ounce of concentration they had just to stay alive. They weren't working as a team.
She saw it, then. A Shadow coming up behind Panther. Too late for her to notice. Too late for her to avoid it.
She ran up, shouting out a warning even as her hands pushed Panther out of the way. She watched as the claw descended down on her like a guillotine. She shut her eyes, waiting for the blow to land. Would death be painful?
She waited. And waited. Still nothing came. She hesitantly opened her eyes.
The Shadow's arm was held in place, a whip wrapped around it.
"What the hell are you doing?" Panther screamed at her. "Find somewhere and hide! We'll handle this!"
She could only follow the instructions, moving just in time as Panther released her hold on the Shadow and rolling to avoid another one. The spark of lightning scorching the ground where Panther was a moment earlier.
Her cheek stung.
She reached up, feeling the faint trace of broken skin. She pulled her hand away, seeing the crimson liquid of mortality. The claw had grazed her.
She could die here.
All this time, she thought it was like a game. The spying, the tailing, the stealing of hearts. It was supposed to be fun and exciting. Deadly eruptions of the elements, flashes of steel and claw, desperate and defiant battle cries. She saw what the change of hearts really entailed… A dance with death.
She was a liability here. She couldn't help.
A Shadow loomed over her, a grin too wide for its face, leering. "Be a good girl and die."
She froze like a deer in headlights.
"Niijima-san!"
"Prez?!"
She saw the Thieves attempting to disengage and reach her. Desperation and horror painted plain on their faces.
She was going to die just like she lived: a useless burden.
She almost laughed. It was fitting. No matter what she did, it didn't really matter.
"You're going to give up, just like that?"
She glanced around, confused. Time was… frozen?
She felt arms snake around her shoulders. She turned to see herself with glowing yellow eyes not an inch away.
"You're going to let their desire to save you go to waste?"
"I don't deserve to be saved. I'm a burden. I can't do anything." She couldn't even die right.
"So you say," her lookalike mused, glancing at the Thieves. "But look at them. Arms outstretched towards who, I wonder?"
She traced all their body positions. "Me?"
"Yes, dear little princess. You."
"But they hate me." It was impossible. Who would want to save her? After all she failed to do?
"Do those look like the eyes of the hateful?"
"Why would they want to save me?" Her mind reached zero possibilities.
"Perhaps they see something of themselves in you."
No, that couldn't be true. "They're making a difference. They're willing to sacrifice so much to help others. I'm nothing like them."
"Then explain to me, dear, why you have that scratch on your cheek?" Her Shadow's fingernail dug into her skin, fresh crimson flowing anew.
Her denial died in her throat. "I… tried to save Panther." The realization blossomed in her chest.
"You were willing to die for her. Willing to sacrifice everything."
Fury burned in her chest. It was ridiculous. It didn't make sense. She was willing to die for someone only to be told to find somewhere and hide? Let them handle it? Why should she just let everyone tell her what to do? Do this, do that, be a good little girl and die? She hated that.
"Fuck that…"
"Are you finally going to let your screams be heard?"
"I'm so sick and tired of the bullshit people tell me to do!"
Her mimic covered its mouth with a dainty hand. "My my, such uncouth words coming from you, princess. You may die right now."
"Enough out of you!" She saw blue embers flicker around her. "I'm going to solve my own damn problems! No one gets to tell me what I should do!"
"So you're set on the road of defiance?"
"I'll ride it to the gates of hell."
A violent explosion of pain in her mind made her stumble. She stubbornly stayed on her feet, sweat breaking out across her face. Her Shadow now squeezed her in a vice, trying to drag her down.
"THEN LET US DEFY ALL EXPECTATIONS…"
Another pulse of pain made her head spin. She stomped the ground, feeling the shock race up her bones. She remained standing. She. Would. Not. Kneel.
" I AM THOU, THOU ART I… THOU WHO HAS SWORN TO CLAIM HER CROWN."
She grabbed her Shadow's arms, twisting them off and tossing them aside. She felt something obscure her vision slightly. She reached up and felt cool metal. It had to go.
"PROTECT THOU OWN WHO RIDE UNDER YOUR BANNER! EXTEND YOUR HAND TO THOSE IN NEED AND PRESENT A CLOSED FIST TO THE DEPLORABLE! CALL UPON MY NAME, AND STRIKE FEAR INTO THE HEARTS OF THOSE WHO DARE RESIST!"
She felt an energy within her like none other. A fusion of her heart and mind, swirling around and around and merging as one. She could feel it. Her "self." Who she really was. She wasn't ever going to give it up again.
Sis was right. She always was.
She had work to do.
"JOHAANNAAAAA!"
The world disappeared in a flash of brilliant blue.
A/N
Bit of a lengthy A/N this time around, got a lot to talk about I guess.
Holy shit those Awakenings… it seemed natural to have Makoto's and Yusuke's at the same time story wise, it didn't make sense to delay Makoto's a whole nother Palace or even a single fight. Thematically and emotionally, yes, Kaneshiro's was tailor made for her to join. But I hope I managed to juggle the two occurring simultaneously naturally enough. It's been a while since I've written an Awakening scene, much less two back to back. I hope they live up to the expectation.
Yusuke's Awakening is the only one that involves betrayal from a loved one. It really strikes a chord with me and I think anyone who has experienced it could relate at least a little bit. When you trust someone so unquestioningly you feel guilty even thinking about doubting them. You hold onto that hope and defend them with all you have, and when it's lost you really do begin to see the truth. I'll explore more of this later, as it really isn't appropriate time-wise for Yusuke to think about the aftermath.
Makoto's was likewise familiar to me. I'm sure a lot of people have had expectations from family and/or friends placed upon them. I've seen those thrive and I've seen people buckle from the pressure. I don't think this needs to be elaborated much more outside the story.
I didn't hear anything regarding the new writing style so I'll just keep doing what I'm doing.
Also did I really write 40k+ words in a little over a month? Jesus… Please don't expect this to be the norm.
Anyways, hope you all enjoyed this one and thanks for reading!