This is a sequel to Bound By Our Hearts, an Earthbound story, so I suggest reading that first. It's certainly possible to read this story without having read BBOH, but it does add context for several characters and events. Whether you have read the prequel or not, thank you for taking the time to read this, and enjoy!
Chapter 1: Our Beginning
Ω • Ω • Ω
? ? ?
"...Drug... strong..."
"...im up."
Cold water splashed on him. He wanted to react right away, shiver or jerk back, but his body wouldn't respond. He felt lethargic, slow. His mouth was numb and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. He slowly managed to look up, feeling several bruises and cuts along his skin. His uniform and hair were matted to his face, and he blearily tried to make out what was around him.
He made out a camera with a red light in the corner of what looked to be a metal room, with three stern-looking men looking down on him. "No dozing off," one spoke, and he made to reach for his face, only to realize his hands were cuffed together, behind his chair. His heartbeat sped up and he struggled for a moment, causing the man to sigh. "You still don't get it, huh?" Before he could respond, the man kicked him hard, throwing him on his ass and sending the chair flying from beneath him. "Give it up!"
"Ngh!" He skid on the ground, feeling it scrape at his skin. The pain helped though, and small pieces of information began filtering back into his head. He was... stealing something... a briefcase... He remembered... some monster with guns and swords for arms? A boy with blond hair and a skull mask backing him up and shooting lightning from... something... Another boy with a white prince's outfit firing out holy light...
"Joker, are you alright?!"
"Joker!"
"Kid?! Kid, answer me!"
An escape, before being dogpiled by dozens of men... having the shit kicked out of him, him, a seventeen-year-old kid, by a group of adult men.
"Cuff him!"
"Stop struggling!"
"You have your teammate to thank for this. You were sold out."
Sold out.
He snarled, remembering... he couldn't remember, but he knew... something. Something that made him angry. The man in black suddenly stomped down on his head, and he cried out. "Come on, cooperate, or what, do you want another shot?"
His eyes drifted to an empty syringe. Truth serum, his mind suggested. "Don't need that to tell you how much of a little bitch you are," he coughed out. "What, beating teens like me help you get your jollies off, sick fuck?"
The man growled and reared back, kicking him in the face. He cried out as his nose bent the wrong way, and blood began leaking profusely. "Little shits like you are why I enjoy my job, punk."
"Oh, I'm sure... Y-You're an inspiration to dirty cops around the world," he choked out with a laugh. Anyone less stubborn than him would have shut their mouth to avoid any more beatings, but his family was damn stubborn, and seeing the man enraged pleased him more than the pain hurt him. The man scoffed and let him lay there, grabbing a clipboard from his cohort.
"Hmph. Let's see here... Obstruction of justice, blackmail, defamation, possession of weapons. Manslaughter too, yeah? Talk about the works." The man shook his head lazily, as though reading off his crimes was just casual talk with a friend.
"T-That's... a pretty good rap sheet you got there... How haven't you been arrested yet? Oh wait... lemme guess..." He hacked out a laugh between his wheezes, feeling his sore ribs groan in pain.
"I know you're drugged, but do you ever shut the hell up?"
"Nah, dad taught me that annoying your captors is the best way to get their guard down." He snickered and dragged himself to a wall, propping himself up against it. "Better be careful there, I don't think you want to see what I can do."
"To think so many crimes were committed by a punk like you... And you just seem to be enjoying it." The man scowled at his defiant attitude. "You should know your place."
"I know my place just fine, thank you... That'd be in your bed, fucking your wife. Lord knows you can't do it well enough. Must be why you're such an irritable bitch. Knowing a teen fucks her better than you ca—" He cackled before the man kicked him across the face again.
He groaned into the metal floor and felt his handcuffs be pulled from his wrists. He slowly pushed himself up, rubbing them until the clipboard was shoved into his face. "Sign here. It's a confession under your name."
"Sorry, I never learned how to read," he sneered, smacking away the hand holding the board.
"I see..." The man sighed, standing up, before stomping down on his leg. He grimaced, biting his lip and refusing to scream. His legs were sore and he felt they could break at any moment, but he wouldn't give the man the satisfaction. Said man looked disappointed but still shoved the board into his hands again, alongside a pen. "I need your hand to sign this… But I don't care if you end up losing a leg." The man didn't let up until he grabbed the board, and he let off a soft sigh as the pressure was relieved. Was that how Ryuji had felt when his leg had been broken by Kamoshida?
He closed his eyes briefly. Ryuji? Kamoshida? Who... He shook his head, staring at the pen and contemplating stabbing the man, but... Something in the back of his mind warned him against that. That wasn't the plan... He sighed, and finally signed his name.
Akira Starr.
When he finished writing, the man took back the clipboard, before leaning down to sneer in his face. "Don't expect to walk out of here in one piece," the agent threatened, grabbing him by his blazer collar. "We're going to make you understand. One must take full responsibility for their actions."
He scoffed. "If that's what you think, I won't dissuade you of your little delusions." More was coming back. He didn't have everything, but he remembered... A smirk grew on his face. The man scowled at that and made to slap it away before a knock on the door stopped him.
The agent opened the door and Akira strained his ears to listen, but all he could hear was "Niijima." For some reason, his heart lifted.
It was all coming together, wasn't it?
The next thing he knew a table and two chairs were placed in the room, and he was dragged and thrown into one of them. The lady across from him vaguely matched up with his hazy memories, beautiful, with silver hair and wearing a professional business suit."I didn't expect it'd be you," she admitted.
If she was as good as he was told, then she had probably known a little information on him from the records that she could dig up in a short amount of time. Akira Starr, transfer student on probation and staying under Sojiro Sakura. The crime he'd committed was aggravated assault and was expelled from his previous school to live in Tokyo for a year. Near perfect attendance at Shujin Academy with straight A's. Found predominantly at Leblanc, Or involved in various activities around the city with his friends. One of which being her sister. A smirk grew. That likely didn't sit too well with her. He was too close to home. "You'll be answering my questions this time."
His mind swam again as he responded, and it took all he had to not throw up. He hoped he'd said some witty line though... She glanced down at the syringe on the ground and scowled, muttering to herself. "Bastards... Can you hear me? It seems you've been through a lot."
"Don't worry, you're coming in loud and clear... Just my output that's a bit muddled," He smirked. "By the way, had some great fun with your friends there. I think that one guy had a complex... Kept talking about getting back at me for banging his wife." He coughed out a laugh as Niijima shook her head.
"I'll assure you right now, I had nothing to do with those barbaric methods." She didn't much enjoy his accusatory tone. It probably didn't feel good to be judged by a 'punk' like him. "Almost anything can happen here, and I can't stop them."
"Of course, of course... Well, shall we get down to business, Nii-ji-ma-san?" He grinned as he drew out her name and added a san, taunting her.
"Very well." She sighed before continuing. "Then I need you to answer me honestly. I don't have much time either. What was your objective? Why did you cause such a major incident? I didn't think it was a prank from the get-go, but I couldn't assemble a case for the prosecution. It's because I couldn't figure out the method behind it."
"Well, of course you couldn't," he scoffed, mirth dancing through his eyes.
"That is true, I wouldn't exactly be convinced of that world through just reports."
"Reports don't exactly do it justice," he chuckled.
"In any case..." She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. "When and where did you find out about that world? How is it even possible to steal another's heart? Now, tell me your account of everything. Start from the very beginning."
"Well..." He leaned back, sorting through his hazy memories to start his recount. "Let's begin..."
Ω • Ω • Ω
•The Fool's Wild Card•
4/9, Saturday
Akira sighed as he scrolled through his phone, waiting for the train to reach its destination. "Next stop: Yongen-Jaya." He looked up, reading the kanji to make sure he heard right, before putting his phone away and getting up. He'd been lucky to grab a seat, the trains in Tokyo being infamously packed. He knew this even though he'd lived on the opposite side of the planet for most of his life, which probably showed just how bad it was.
When the train stopped he got off with an army of people, with a similar number shoving past to get on. He glared at them with silver eyes, causing several to flinch away from his sharp stare, before making his way to an escalator. He knew that they probably had somewhere to be, but that didn't mean he was okay with being shoved around like that. Well, most of the time, maybe. He was notorious for being one of the more calm and serious kids in his school back home.
Right now, he was still pissed off. It wasn't as bad as it had been when the incident first occurred. Hell, he'd ranted and raved, infuriated. Now, it was a… calm rage. He'd just be a bit prickly for a while.
As he entered the back streets of Yongen-Jaya, he looked around, before spotting a police officer. "Excuse me, sir," he asked in perfect Japanese, only slightly hesitant about asking the policeman after the... last incident he had with one. "Could you point me to Sojiro Sakura's residence?"
The gruff-looking officer nodded. "Down that way, past the staircase. But at this time of day, he'll be in his coffee shop, Leblanc. It's just down this alley."
"Thank you, sir." He turned down the alley mentioned and noticed the shop straight away. It had an awning with the name of the shop on it in dark colors, with a menu and a few plants outside. He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. At least it wasn't all bright and pretty. It was pretty ironic that two people that were so bright in both personality and clothing and such had a kid who preferred darker themes and clothes.
He entered the shop, setting off the bell on the door, and looked around. The inside of the shop seemed nice enough and was occupied by three people. Two were an elderly couple at a booth eating, while the third was a middle-aged man reading a newspaper and sitting on a chair at the counter. Although, given the fact that he wore an apron, Akira just assumed that he was Sakura-san.
"Excuse me?"
The man murmured to himself as he wrote something on the paper. "…five letter word…"
"Are you Sakura-san?"
The man looked up when he heard his name and blinked behind his glasses. "Oh yeah, that was today…" Akira furrowed his brow at the thought of just being an afterthought but held his tongue. Best to be good for now, and if the guy was still a dick… well, it's not like he had to get along with the guy, just survive for a year. "I'm Sojiro Sakura. But either call me Boss or Sakura-san. Most people do."
"Right. It's nice to meet you, Sakura-san."
"Hm. I'm sure you know why you're here."
"Yeah, some real bullshit," he murmured, before speaking up. "Yeah, I know."
"And your parents asked me to house you because I owe your father a favor, so I accepted."
"Thanks for that."
Before they could continue, the elderly couple stood up and thanked Sakura-san for the food, before leaving some money on the table and exiting the shop. Sakura-san turned back to him and nodded. "Anyway, I'll take you up to your room."
"I'm going to live here, in the coffee shop?"
"There's a room in the attic. It's bigger than the ones in my house."
"I guess if I get a large room then I can't complain." He followed the man up the stairs, and beheld a… very cluttered room. He struggled with words for a moment, before muttering, "well, it's certainly big." Garbage bags, dust, and clutter were everywhere. Big, yes, but messy.
A small smirk grew on the man's face before he shook his head. "It's up to you to clean the rest up. That box is your belongings, what your parents sent over. I'll at least give you sheets for your bed." He nodded towards a mattress on the other side of the room.
"Gee, thanks."
"I'll be leaving after I lock up each day," Sakura-san nodded. "You'll be alone at night, but don't do anything stupid. I'll throw you out if you cause any trouble."
He finally glared at the man, his patience wearing thin. "Listen, I know. I'm not exactly going to risk anything right now. I'll go to school, come back, go to sleep, repeat, repeat. If that's it, I'm going to clean up then go to bed."
Sakura-san blinked as he tossed his bag across the room and onto the bed, before grabbing the box and beginning to empty it. "Well… I suppose that's a good idea. I'll be taking you to Shujin, your new school tomorrow. Get some rest."
"Yeah, yeah." Sakura winced slightly, thinking that maybe he might have laid it on a bit thick. Either way, the kid needed to learn that sometimes you shouldn't stick your nose in other people's business, even if it's to help them.
Akira listened as Sakura-san walked down the stairs, moving some of his clothes onto a cluttered desk. He turned around to survey the room, before cracking his neck. This would take a while.
He was wrong. It had taken more than a while. By the time that he'd finished cleaning, the sun had gone down. But at least the room looked… still cluttered in some places, but for the most part, it looked like your average room. He slipped into sweatpants and a t-shirt as he got ready for bed, slinging his casual clothes onto an empty table.
He sat down on his new bed, looking around the room. One year… then, he could go home. All because of that fucking—!
He breathed in to calm himself, looking down to see he'd nearly ripped his new sheets already, his hands having bunched them up while he clenched them. Whatever. There was nothing he could do about it now. Hopefully, this Shujin Academy had some sports teams he could use to vent his frustrations.
His heart clenched once again at that thought. He was an intelligent and studious kid, preferring isolation rather than spending time with large groups of people, but that didn't mean that he didn't go outside, or enjoy some sports. He'd followed in his father's footsteps and tried out for the baseball team at his old school and did reasonably well, but he positively shone in clubs and on teams like the wrestling club. It helped that his father's close friend was an incredible fighter, and since they were close enough that the man was practically his blood-uncle, the man happily taught him some moves.
All of those trophies sitting at home were now gathering dust. Well, his mother would absolutely be cleaning them every day, if only for when he got home, but it was the principal of the thing. He shook his head and thought about all of the books and games he'd left behind as well. Oh sure, his mother helped him pack a few books, and his father even sent along his gaming system and a few discs, but it still felt nothing like home. Probably for the best. While he might eventually settle in, he was dead-set on not allowing this place to become his home.
He reached up and removed his glasses, placing them on the windowsill. He stared at them for a moment, thinking, before slumping back into bed. He brought his phone out to check the time and set an alarm. He liked getting up early to get ready for the day, and he didn't know when they'd be leaving to go to the academy, so he'd simply set an alarm for his usual time of six-thirty.
His phone vibrated as he got a message, and he quirked an eyebrow until he saw who it was from. He smiled and opened up his messaging app to respond.
Dad— Howdy
You— Hey.
Dad— You settling in alright? I'm not sure what time it is over there but it's like twelve hours ahead or something right?
You— Yeah, about. I'm getting ready to sleep, going to my new school tomorrow.
Dad— Sorry I couldn't come myself
You— It's fine, I understand. You all had to get back home. I can't believe this crap happened in the few days we were visiting Japan.
Dad— Well I also want you to know that all of us miss you, and we completely believe that you're innocent. We'll try and visit as much as we can, but with baseball season having started this fucking month well you know
Dad— And delete that last message don't let your mom see I was cursing in our texts
You— I'm screenshotting it and sending it to Mom.
Dad— There will be nowhere to run if you do so, you shall suffer endless agony
He snorted, shaking his head. His dad liked to be really dramatic, but he was grateful for that, at least right now. It took his mind off of everything.
You— Whatever. And use more commas, I can't understand anything you're typing.
Dad— That's why autocorrect exists
You— You are the definition of lazy.
You— Whatever. Say hi to Mom for me.
Dad— I will. Make some friends over there as well. you might as well get something from this year.
You— Yeah, maybe. I'll try. Night, dad.
Dad— G'night, kiddo. Love you.
You— What, you'll use an apostrophe for 'G'night,' but can't use commas?
You— Whatever. I love you too. Night.
He closed the app and sighed. He understood why his family couldn't be there. They had been on a trip to Japan when the incident occurred, a small vacation, and whoever the asshole that he'd fucked with was, he was apparently influential enough and had enough of a grudge, to stick him in a school on the opposite side of the world from his home out of spite or some shit. Unwillingly, his mind briefly returned back to that night.
A man's voice. "Just get in the car!" It sounded slurred. Whoever it was was probably drunk.
"Stop it!" A woman now. Nearly hysterical. He could put together the pieces from there.
He found them, arguing in front of an expensive-looking car. The woman struggling away from the man, while he gripped her forearm. He stepped between them, causing the man to loosen his grip, and before he could regain his balance, fall back and bash his head on a guardrail.
The woman gasped, and the man gripped his now bleeding head, glaring at him. "Damn brat! I'll sue!"
He'd laughed. The man was drunk, and the woman would side with him for saving her. Police sirens were getting close. It would be over soon.
He'd been half correct, half not. It was over in a flash, yes. But the man wasn't being arrested. He was. He stumbled as the police dragged him by the arms towards their car, staring at the woman who was pointedly not meeting his eyes, tears running down her face.
A small chime caused him to come back to reality and raise an eyebrow, as he looked to see that the odd app he'd deleted earlier in the day was back. It was a stylized black and red-eye, with a star for a pupil. It kept showing up, and he wasn't quite sure how to get rid of it. "Might have to reboot my phone," he muttered. He selected it and dragged it to the trash can icon, getting rid of it once again. He frowned as he remembered the odd vision he'd seen in Shibuya Crossing, but shook his head and dismissed that. Most likely just a daydream...
He watched as his phone deleted the app once again and sighed. He hoped his phone wasn't being hacked or something. Why did this have to happen now?! He groaned and tossed his phone onto the window sill, turning over. His eyes began to close, and he felt himself drift off to unconsciousness, but not without one last thought. A wish. A desire. His father's text, saying to make friends. He truly wished it would come true. This year would be hell… but with friends by his side? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. And with that, he drifted off to sleep.
However, it wasn't true sleep. His mind drifted to an unknown place, a prison, clad in blue velvet. He shot up and looked around, confused, feeling the scratchy material of a black and white prison uniform rubbing at his skin. He made to reach out, but couldn't stretch his hands apart, and looked down to see his hands were in chains, as well as his feet.
He looked around, trying to see where exactly he was. Aside from the velvet walls and the chains that hung from them, there was a toilet and his small wooden prison bed, plus a chained up door. He attempted to make his way to it but grunted when something tugged on his leg. He looked back and saw an iron ball attached to his leg shackles, and struggled to move it so he could close in on the door. Once he did, he spotted three people. Two of them were small girls, twins, with blond hair and golden eyes, wearing blue uniforms with eye patches covering one eye for each girl. And in the center of a large room with several other cells, sat an odd-looking man at a desk with several papers, smiling at him creepily. He had elf-like, pointed ears, with bulging bloodshot eyeballs and a full toothed smirk.
"Trickster… Welcome to my Velvet Room… This room takes shape based upon the state of your heart... To be a prison such as this, you truly are a prisoner of fate." The man's voice was deep and menacing, sending a chill down his spine as his danger senses began blaring, but he managed to ignore that for the moment. The man was dangerous…
"Happy to be here," He replied, dry sarcasm clear on his voice as his mind whirled trying to understand what the man was talking about. "The chains really bring the room together." He looked down towards the two children and he scoffed. "Lolis as wardens? Have I finally been caught by the Lolice?"
The man simply chuckled at his words, while one of the little girls slammed an electrified baton into his cell bars, causing him to hiss in pain. "How dare you speak out so rudely like that!"
The man simply held up a hand to silence her and continued looking deep into his eyes with an unwavering glare. "Now… let us get down to business… Ruin is fast approaching."
Ω • Ω • Ω
•The Chariot's Muscle•
As the Wild Card spoke with the denizens of the Velvet Room, across the city a boy with dyed blond hair stayed up playing video games. He wasn't what one would call an idiot, but he definitely wasn't the brightest person in a room at any given point in time. He should have been studying, but with how his life had been going for the past few years, as well as the fact that studying put him straight to sleep, he never found the time.
As he continued to play, he thought about his plans for the next day. He didn't have any friends, as everyone at his school thought of him as a troublemaker, thug, and delinquent, so even if he couldn't spend time with anyone, at least he was always free on Sundays! He let out a small sigh as he tried to make his boring life sound even slightly better, before giving up.
Honestly, he'd probably drop out of school soon. He didn't do well grade-wise, and the only reason he had even gotten into the prestigious academy he went to was because he was a fast runner, and had been the star of the track team. But, with the track team disbanded, and what had happened to his leg, there really was no point. Maybe he could try and find a job to help support his single mom after his bastard of a father had up and left them, but he wasn't sure. Would anyone hire someone like him? Especially if he became a high school dropout?
No… it was probably better to just slog through the rest of school, then use his high school diploma to try and get a job, no matter how little it paid. He'd heard some alright things about Big Bang Burger, or maybe that Mach Pizza place. Using a moped for deliveries at least sounded a bit fun. He snapped back to reality as the game declared him the loser of the match, and he sighed as he shut it off. He slipped into his bed and stared at his ceiling, wishing for someone, something, anything, to give him a bit of meaning, before drifting off.
Ω • Ω • Ω
•The Emperor's Forger•
As the Thug drifted off, a lanky, sophisticated boy with short, dark blue hair went over his art supplies as he put them away for the day. He wanted to make sure he lost none of them, each was expensive and required delicate care. They were not just tools, but parts of him, which he used to bring out both the hidden beauty of the world, and the beauty that most saw every day, but simply thought nothing of.
As he put away his last brush— cleaned thoroughly of course! He turned back to his latest painting absentmindedly. It was of a mountainside, with trees framing the sides of the portrait and a sunset bathing the landscape in yellows and oranges and reds. And it was so odd… as when he'd painted that very mountain, it had been midday, with birds flying overhead… had his emotions… well of course they had. Art involved emotion, much of it! But… why had he been feeling anger?
"Ah, very well done!" Ah. Yes. His Sensei observed his painting with a smile. His anger, pushed down to his core… because of this. But he could not let it happen again! He should be grateful to his Sensei, giving him a place to rest, to live! Giving him his artwork… was acceptable. Wasn't it? If his Sensei was suffering such a terrible artist's block, then the least he could do was give him his work, until he could recapture his passion! It was fine…
An hour later, he lay back in his small bed, observing the roof of his shack, quietly contemplating, and wishing for the answer to his query.
Ω • Ω • Ω
•The Priestess' Analyst•
The Artist drifted away from the waking world, while another girl sat at her desk, working. She had short brown hair and was still in her school uniform even this late at night. What she was working on was completely irrelevant, as she had already finished her homework for the entirety of the next week, and was now working on the next week's homework. And of course, once she was done with that. She'd be moving on to the next.
After all, she needed to be the best, and then get into a prestigious college. She needed to do well as her sister had always told her. Although, perhaps she could take a break from that, to work on something else. The principal had informed her of a new second-year transfer student, a boy with a criminal record. Why their school had to take him in, she didn't know, but she would have to keep an eye on him. As the Student Council President, she was responsible for her fellow students, and would not let some thug disrupt the school. It was what she was told, after all. To keep an eye on him.
His picture looked rather normal. Messy, raven black hair, bright… silver eyes? Maybe those were contacts? Above-average height of five feet and ten inches, although considering he wasn't Japanese, he was just above the average height and not several inches above it. His school records stated that… he had been first in his grade regarding academics his whole life? That must be a mistake. A thug like him couldn't possibly have such good grades! But his school clubs at least partially matched, as he had been in a few clubs, with clubs like wrestling and boxing… So he was still athletic. At least that matched his record… still, could something have been wrong?
No, she decided, shaking her head. The adults were always right. She ignored the niggling doubt and got ready for bed. After all, tomorrow was Sunday, and she could do more work then. It would be more productive as well, after a good rest. She lay down, ignoring the voice in the depths of her mind wondering if they were truly right, and fell into a deep sleep.
Ω • Ω • Ω
•The Empress' Heiress•
As the Strategist slept, a rich girl with pale auburn hair smiled as she tended to several flowers blossoming on her balcony. She had curly, fluffy hair that went to her shoulders, and wore a sweater and sweatpants as her pajamas. She could have had much more expensive clothing such as a fancy nightgown, but what she was wearing was comfortable!
As she tended to her plants, she felt her smile wane slightly as she thought about a conversation she'd had earlier in the day, with her father. She was to be wed soon. Not right away, maybe not even for several months, but apparently her father had found a suitable candidate for an arranged marriage that would strengthen their company. She'd nodded along and said yes where appropriate. Her father knew best, after all.
She simply needed to go along with him, and everything would be fine. She hoped. There was a niggling doubt that she had to push down. There was no point in complaining, her father absolutely knew best! And he cared for her! He loved her!
…Right?
She shook her head and put away her watering can. She just needed to accept it… she pushed away her doubts, climbing into her large bed and sighing as she lay in her comfortable sheets. But even with the doubt pushed all the way down, there was desire bubbling in her core… she wished to be her person, free to choose her destiny. Maybe one day, she could find someone to help her do so.
Ω • Ω • Ω
•The Magician's Infiltrationist•
As the Heiress dreamt the night away, a small creature snuck through a castle. The depressing atmosphere and slaves bound in chains and metallic masks didn't distract the small creature as he dipped from cover to cover. He needed to find it. The Treasure. Maybe then… well, he'd deal with that when he came to it.
There! A Shadow was ahead of him, patrolling a corridor. He smirked and snuck up behind it, before summoning his curved sword to his hand, and leaping up the back of its armor. It yelled as it felt him before he brought his sword around and cut off its mask. It fell to the ground in a heap of black ooze, before forming into a jack-o-lantern creature. He smirked, summoning his inner self to blast it with wind, putting out its flame and knocking it out. With that done, he continued on.
He did not know who he was, and his form was not that of a human, but he knew deep down that he was one, and if he could reach the bottom of that place… of the mysterious Mementos…
Clang!
He cried out as something slammed into the back of his head, and he bounced along the ground. Damnit! He'd gotten careless! There was another guard! He tried to get up, but it stomped down on him, knocking him out. As he drifted off, struggling to stay awake, one thought, one wish, echoed through his mind. He needed someone, anyone, to help him… to find his true self… to reach the depths of Mementos…
Ω • Ω • Ω
•The Hermit's Hacker•
As the Infiltrationist was knocked out, a girl with long red hair and glasses typed away at her computer, a magnificent stream of data flowing from it, and reflecting against her eyes and glasses in the dark room. But… it was another dead end. She wouldn't give up though, not yet. She'd find the data, the research… because…
She winced as pain lanced through her head, past voices echoing through her mind.
"She never wanted you…"
"You should just die!"
"She committed suicide."
"YOU DESERVE TO DIE!"
She whimpered and hid her head, clutching at her headphones to block out the unheard noise. It was fake! It wasn't real! It wasn't… she wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually, it stopped. She breathed out, looking back up at the government website she'd hacked into. She sighed and retraced her steps, careful to leave no evidence of hacking at all as she exited their servers. With her safely out, she quickly closed that tab, blushing as it revealed another tab with… questionable videos on it, and closed that one too. She forgot she had that open and it surprised her, but so what? Everyone watches… that now and again!
She shook her head and got out of her chair that she'd been crouching in, and jumped into her bed. The search… wasn't going perfectly, but she'd find the information soon. Hopefully. As she sighed and closed her eyes, she felt a wish in her heart… a desire to be cured of this… this madness that clutched at her. This depression…
She wished for someone to get rid of this feeling… This feeling that she deserved to die…
Ω • Ω • Ω
•The Lover's Con Artist•
As the Hacker turned over and over in her bed, a beautiful girl with long, flaxen colored hair finished putting on her pajamas as she got ready for bed. She would be going to the mall with her best friend the next day, so she wanted to make sure she got plenty of rest. Well, she usually did, considering her job as a model, but she still wanted to make sure she had enough energy to have fun for a whole day. Maybe they could get some crepes together to start the day!
She, like the first blond, wasn't the brightest, but she was still a bit brighter than the boy, at least in one subject. As her parents were famous fashion designers, she'd moved around a lot, before her parents had gotten a place in Japan. Although they still left for long periods, at least she was in one place for more than a few weeks, finally. One of the only good things that came from moving so much was that she knew more English than most people in her grade, but that didn't help much when her other grades were barely average. She was fine with her parents being gone for long periods though. She knew that they loved her, and their jobs simply required them to be away for long periods. It gave her freedom, and if she ever needed anything, she did have a caretaker, but… sometimes, she was still lonely. Just a bit.
Life was difficult enough at the moment, but as long as she had her friend, she could keep fighting for as long as she needed. Eventually, they'd get out of Shujin, eventually, they could have their own lives, away from… him. Her smile wavered before she shook her head and smacked her face. "Come on, don't let him ruin your mood like this… he ruins enough already, so don't give him this…"
Her smile was wiped off her face as her phone vibrated, and she saw the texter's ID. Of course it was him… he was asking if she was free the next day. Damn it… damn him! She squeezed her eyes shut, before opening them and typing out a response. Simply not answering and pretending she didn't see it might be fine in the short term, but when she saw him again on Monday… she shook her head and typed something back about a last-minute shoot that would take most of the day.
His reply was his normal disappointment that they couldn't spend time together, with an undertone that he knew what she was doing. But that might have simply been her imagination. She just couldn't tell anymore… she wanted this all over!
She turned over in her bed and looked out the window, coincidentally directly in the direction of the Yongen-Jaya district, where the Wild Card was learning of Ruin, unknown to all around him. She dragged her covers over her head, and tried to block out the world, wishing for someone who could help her out of this… dark point.
Ω • Ω • Ω
•The Sinner's Grail•
The wishes of the masses were granted by him. The time has almost come. Rehabilitation would begin. Two Chosen would battle within the coming months, and his creation, who'd infiltrated His Sanctuary, where He would be safe, would aid Him, give Him power. His opponent was experienced, and He would need training to make the fight, the Rehabilitation, a true contest.
"The Holy Grail…"
"Thank you…"
"It's beautiful…"
As the Masses praised his glory from their cells within the Prison of Regression, he felt nine wishes… no, ten. Ten different wishes. Six boys. Four girls. The Wild Card, his Chosen, and eight who didn't matter. But their wishes were all odd. Their desires. Unlike those wishing to be chained down by his glory and led, or those he allowed to escape his Prison for their desires that outgrew the wish to be imprisoned, they wished for… yes, selfish things, but also help.
Their shadows, he could sense, weren't trying to get to his Prison. Two did not have a Shadow, having already awakened to their Personas, one had made peace with his Shadow but had not yet Awakened, while the seven others drifted through the upper areas, above even the Path of Qimranut, slowly drifting downwards, but with no hurry. Yet. They had no desire to reach his glory, but with time…
Yet, this could be useful… the Trickster wouldn't just need training to match his rival, but allies, to aid him along the way. Even with his aid and several months, he most likely would not be able to keep up with the Caller of Chaos. Yes… he would heed their wishes. He would alter fate so they would meet, become strong together. It would only be a matter of time.
And his rival, who also wished for aid? Perhaps he would make them meet. Converse. To see an enemy's perspective is important to both sides. Who knows what may come of it? Though he may be a God of Control, he could not see the future, only predict it, with his immeasurable knowledge. His plan would work out. All of the pieces were set. Rehabilitation had begun. Would Ruin be prevented?
The Holy Grail began glowing.
Yeet yeet new story.
This is a sequel to Bound By Our Hearts as I wrote at the beginning, and while there aren't many connections yet, they'll come in time through previous characters, PSI, and things like that. I hope you enjoyed the titles of each segment, using each Thief's signature Tarot Card and their role, like how Joker represents the Fool Tarot and his Wild Card ability makes him... well, the wild card, or Ryuji has the Chariot Tarot and is the muscle of the Thieves.
I will be putting these chapters out slowly, perhaps once per month slowly, but since this is more like a prologue than anything else, I'll also be putting out the second chapter shortly. Although Royal will be coming out in March, I've heard that not much changes at the beginning of the game. By slowly putting out updates, I make time to write chapters for my other stories, while also having time to see what changes in late-game and rewrite plot around those points. And if there are changes early on that matter, I'm sure I can write around them. And even after Royal comes out, I have two other stories I have an obligation to, especially after making people wait a long time to update those.
Anyway, leave a review on everything you liked in the chapter or just a 'nice.' Both are always great to read. See y'all next time.
