Shin Persona Evangelion

by Ultra Sonic 007

Shinji Ikari stared, bewildered by the bizarre-looking man, who gave an intrigued smile. "An interesting guest has arrived. My name is Igor. Welcome to the Velvet Room, young fool...we have important matters to discuss, you and I." (A fusion of the realms of Evangelion and Persona, where not all is as it seems.) (Cover art by Renu of the Sufficient Velocity forums.)

82. Monday - August 17, 2015

Author's Note: Fun fact, now that we're past the whole revelation regarding Third Impact and the Sea of Souls: this was foreshadowed with the Social Links in the very first chapter.

xx

I am thou, thou art I...

Thou hast acquired a new bond.

It shall lead thou to the truth

that parts the seas of depravity.

Take hold of the [...] Arcana,

and let it guide you

to a new Promised Land...

xx

Just a fun little tidbit I thought I'd share.

Back to the plot!

xxxx

Sokila was kicking her legs.

"Yesterday...was pretty tough for you and your friends, wasn't it...?"

She visibly wondered aloud, gazing at the ceiling.

"I guess it was a lot to try an' understand...I was the same, once..."

She looked down at her right hand, which held an orange crayon, nearly worn down to the nub.

"...but I'm still so young...while you..."

Sokila trailed off; sighing, she forced a smile onto her face. Setting her crayon down on her current picture — an orange sea along the shore — she rose to her feet.

"Anyhow, I've got another request for you! This time, I wanna warrior cat lord guy...that can never get dizzy!"

To emphasize her point, she begin spinning around in place, trying to maintain balance on her feet...before eventually, waving her arms futilely, she fell over.

"Owie..."

The faint haze of blue began to brighten-

xxxx

/Monday: August 17, 2015/

/Sojiro Sakura's Residence, Nishiawakura, Okayama Prefecture/

Shinji Ikari slowly blinked, impulsively looking for the window; it was still dark out. So early, he mused, absentmindedly putting away his sleeping yukata while dressing in some jeans and a loose collared shirt colored a dull apricot. As his body moved on relative autopilot, his mind drifted back to the events of yesterday.

(It felt real, and yet not. He was a player in a mythical drama, for all intents and purposes.)

(Why does it feel so...expected, for you? Why does it not shock you so?)

His Other quietly read from an old book.

"The vow you made...how long until you remember?"

The Beast chuckled, content to watch things play out.

"What will be the catalyst? Surely, it'll be bloody..."

Scratching at his chest, Shinji's bare feet lightly trod upon the wooden floors; he noted Enkai-chan sleepily following at his heels, even as the smell of freshly-brewed coffee perked him up.

"Here," said Sojiro as he walked into the kitchen, handing him a mug filled with caffeinated ambrosia.

"Thank you, sensei." Sipping idly at the cup, Shinji stared at the reflection of the kitchen lights in his drink: illumination, muddled and rendered obscure. It felt like a decent metaphor for his current state.

"...you kids seemed out of it, yesterday," Sojiro said, leaning against the countertops. "More so than after the battle with the Angel, I mean."

"We were...?"

"You were exhausted after the new moon, don't get me wrong...but during dinner last night, your minds weren't all there."

"Oh. Sorry..."

Sojiro shrugged. "Anything you'd like to talk about?"

"...it's not exactly something we can share," he admitted.

"...I suppose teenagers have the right to keep some secrets," Sojiro mused, looking at the wall, in the general direction of where the boys' and girls' rooms were. "I could hear them tossing and turning, when I woke up. Especially from the young men; they usually sleep like logs, from what I've seen."

Shinji inwardly felt a stab of guilt. (It was his fault, for bringing them to the Velvet Room.)

(You tried to keep them away, but they wanted to be a part of this nonetheless.)

Sojiro grimaced, rubbing at the back of his head. "Well...from what I recall, it's best not to let them stew in their own heads. Easier to think things through when you've got stuff to do."

"...I suppose so," murmured Shinji, idly pulling his phone out of his pocket, opening up a chat log that had been created last night:

-Team Statherós Group-

K. Aida: and boom, we've got our own group chat!
T. Suzuhara: I guess we needed one?
M. Yamagishi: this does make it official
Mana: ?
M. Yamagishi: Mana-san asked why we need this if we can talk to each other in person
K. Aida: because what if we need to communicate when we're not face-to-face? :O
Mana: maks sens
T. Suzuhara: do you have autocorrect on?
S. Ikari: So that IS a thing.
S. Ikari: can you show me how to turn mine on
K. Aida: ...
K. Aida: HOW LONG HAVE U HAD UR PHONE, D00D?（＞д＜）
S. Ikari: sorry

That had been where it ended, the night before: a bit of levity, after a very rough day.

S. Ikari: hey everyone, there's coffee in the kitchen

"Sakura-sensei, can I please have four mugs?"

"Sure thing."

Shinji went about pouring coffee from the pot, idly recalling what he had observed (almost offhandedly, to be honest) from the prior days about his friends' preferences. As he put in the sweeteners and cream to specific thresholds (varying with each mug), the sound of feet trudging into the kitchen could be heard. Looking over his shoulder, he observed the faces of Kensuke Aida, Toji Suzuhara, Mana Kirishima, and Mayumi Yamagishi: of them, only Mana seemed the most well-rested (and even that was a stretch). "Good morning..."

"Good, he says," grumbled Toji as he lay his face on the table. Aida rubbed at his eyes, while Mayumi yawned loudly. Only Mana, with crossed arms, refused to exhibit how tired she looked.

Placing a mug in front of each person, Shinji empathetically said, "here. It should help...I should know."

The quartet of teenagers made mild noises of agreement as they sipped from their drinks, acknowledging with satisfied sighs that he had gotten their preferences right.

Sojiro seemed strangely amused by the scene; as the quintet of teenagers quietly sipped at their coffee, he spoke up. "You kids look like you need a distraction."

It said volumes that no one even attempted to provide an excuse, or even a front. "...what do you have in mind, Sakura-san?" asked Mayumi.

"Well, I figured I could have you kids doing some busywork at the cafe. A little bit of menial labor, and whatnot."

Toji snorted. "Thought you had a thing against 'child labor'."

"True...but pretty much everyone around the village knows that you're able to fight in the Metaverse. Besides, do you really think anyone's going to get on your case for 'underage labor' when the laws also allow for you to legally fight supernatural monsters?"

"...probably," admitted Kensuke. "I bet there's at least one prosecutor that would take a crack at it."

"Maybe. If so, then they can sue me." Running a hand through his distinctive goatee, Sojiro added, "plus, there are enough independent types around here who would tell you that anything's legal so long as there are no cops around." Dead silence.

(Unbeknownst to them all, Ren Amamiya suddenly smiled in his sleep. For no reason. Honestly.)

Sojiro sweated. "...you kids didn't hear that from me, okay?"

"But you just said it," replied Mana.

"We understand, Sakura-sensei," said Shinji, trying to gloss over Mana's comment.

That's how the teenagers (after getting dressed) found themselves following Sojiro down the hill towards his restaurant (with Shinji and Toji texting Misato and Ryuji, respectively, to let them know where they would be), where the older man calmly asked Mana, Mayumi, and Toji to try making some recipes they had practiced over the preceding two weeks. Shinji and Kensuke did a bit of cleaning — sweeping, setting out the chairs, wiping down tables and windows — while the trio helped with doing some of the busywork (grinding beans, preparing ingredients in anticipation for the lunchtime rush of curry connoisseurs, and so forth) that Sojiro typically occupied himself with.

However, as the time for opening drew near, Mana began to look more and more agitated; it got to the point where Sojiro commented, "you might want to take care of that scowl, little miss; you'll frighten my regulars away."

Mana blinked, as if unaware of her current emotional state. "Ah." With a frustrated sigh, she palmed her forehead, grimacing with barely-disguised irritation; finally, she shot a look in Shinji's direction. "Can you follow me Ikari?"

"Eh?" Shinji turned towards the others with a confused glance. "Um...where are we going?"

Glancing out the window, Mana spied a relatively large patch of grass on the other side of the railway tracks, not even a hundred meters away. "Just over there." Without saying another word, Mana left the cafe.

Shinji looked to the others, asking, "um..."

"Need backup?" asked Toji.

"...I think I'll be fine." Sighing, Shinji followed the girl; the air was typically humid for an August morning. Mana moved with visible tension, to the point where Shinji was getting nervous. (Had she been more affected by yesterday's revelations than she had let on?)

(Who knows what goes on in her dreams? You barely know your own.)

Stepping onto the patch of green grass, Mana stared at the morning sky. The roof of the old ryokan was barely visible from their vantage point, poking up above the copse of cedars on the hillside. Looking down towards Shinji, she then summoned LABRYS and AIGIS. "Summon your Evangelion," she growled, her denim jacket fluttering in the breeze.

Shinji balked. "Wha-?

"Summon it. Unit-01, Shogoki, or whatever the hell you call it!" She placed the shield on her back, grabbing the axe's hilt with both hands. Baring her teeth, the young girl roared, "gimme something to hit!"

He was at a loss for words, staring at her.

(Yet he could sense the underlying motive.)

(Can you grant her a brief reprieve?)

The Beast snorted at the display.

"A childish tantrum, seeking to break things, to satisfy a need to destroy..."

Grinning, it stood upon a pyramid of glass.

"...but that is a desire you know so very well, don't you?"

With a snarl, it crushed the monument into fine powder.

"...okay," relented Shinji, willing his mind and body and spirit to synchronize; pulling the flickering orb of blue fire from his forehead, his distinctive blue and black bodysuit manifesting at the same time as Shogoki. The Evangelion crossed its arms, staring intently in Mana's direction; this time, it was of a similar height as the other girl.

With a wordless snarl, Mana charged forward, swinging her axe with abandon.

It was a decidedly unusual sight, compared to the frantic and chaotic movements that Mana Kirishima was normally capable of in combat; she had taken to using LABRYS like a bludgeon, smashing it against Unit-01's forearms with little to no grace. Although the Evangelion's A.T. Field flickered with each blow, there was no desire to kill or do permanent harm...not particularly. Each strike seemed to broadcast an overarching sensation, down to the pit of his soul: frustration; anger; helplessness. Grimacing, he opened his mouth to speak-

"You ever thought about what you wanted out of life?!" she yelled.

Shinji frowned; those words brought to mind a very similar conversation, a mere ten days ago (when a team of women with larger-than-life personalities had come and gone, imparting lessons of their own). "...all the time," he echoed.

"BULLSHIT!" she roared with such vehemence that it made him recoil. "Can't even call it a 'life' at all, can we?! Can't even know if it's true or not!" The sound of LABRYS's sharp edge smacking against Unit-01's forearms was peculiar: like wet metal causing sparks, or sandpaper being torn in two. "How are we supposed to know where we're going if the world's one big dream?!"

"Mana-san-!"

"Everything that's happened...to my sisters, to my brothers, to me..." She kept on swinging, not caring for how hard she gasped for air, or how each of her blows caused her to stagger more and more, from knockback if nothing else. The sparking of blade against spirit was enough to catch the eyes of some locals, who were watching with trepidation from their fields and rice paddies.

(They had fought on behalf of the villagers since coming to Nishiawakura; their faces were known.)

(Now it looks like she's trying to kill you. Even though she's not.)

"...it still doesn't feel real, does it?" he quietly said.

Somehow, she heard him. "...I had a goal. I had something to strive for. I wanted to believe that getting stronger would make it all simpler!" Smash. Smash. Smash. "But it's never that easy...it wasn't ever gonna be that easy..." Smash. Smash. Smash. "...but to hear that all the obstacles in my way might as well be a figment of everyone's imagination?" SMASH. SMASH. SMASH. "How the hell do you deal with that?!"

(Had Mana's self-assured words from yesterday been just bluster?)

His Other peered through the shadows.

"In the dark of the night, where no words can be spoken..."

His yellow eyes were like beacons.

"...what else is there to do, but accuse thyself? In that...she is no different from you, it would seem."

"...you said yesterday that you were going to focus on finding your brothers, didn't you?" He dared to retaliate; Unit-01 grabbed LABRYS by the blade, halting another downward swing. "Did that change, Mana-san?"

Grimacing, the girl ripped LABRYS away from Unit-01's grip, retaliating with a horizontal swing. "What's the point of getting stronger if it doesn't actually change anything?"

"Do you believe that?"

Smash. "...how the hell am I supposed to know?" Smash. "How?"

Unit-01 slapped both palms together on the edge of LABRYS's blade, stopping the axe in its tracks. "Mana-san...do you remember the first time we fought?" (Weeks ago, on an island in the Metaverse; weeks ago, when he had nearly committed murder.)

Mana scowled. "...can't ever forget it."

"...it was just the two of us," he murmured, clenching his right hand (even as the motion filled him with shame, for he remembered the sensation of raising his shovel up high, to kill her-! Stop it.). "...no one else to imagine or think of what we could do...it was just us. Fighting. Trying to...kill each other." Inhale. Exhale. "I...never imagined that I would ever be capable of such a thing...not ever..."

"What's your point?"

"...that's why I believe it really happened. Even if the world is a product of cognition...it's still happening. I mean...I don't think I'm good enough or clever enough to imagine everything that's happened," he admitted, with some measure of self-deprecation. "So...everything you've been through, good or bad...I think it was real, too."

Mana's hands clenched even more tightly onto LABRYS's hilt. "How do you know?"

"Because you're here now," he answered simply. "Everything that happened...brought you here. Given everything you and your siblings experienced...who would imagine that you'd end up here, on a summer vacation in Nishiawakura? I certainly didn't..."

The girl's body was taut, ready to spring at a moment's notice. After several long (excruciatingly long) seconds of silence, the tension began to leak away like steam from a kettle. "...I don't want everything that happened to me...to us...I don't want it to just be the byproduct of some peoples' demented imaginations...it just makes it seem so...trivial. Because who the hell cares about their daydreams?"

"...should that matter?" he wondered aloud (asking not only her, but himself as well; his own vow to become better had not been conditioned on the state of the world. It had all been based on him, and his own desires...for the sake of those beyond himself). "I think, no matter what happened, you'd end up resolving to find your brothers anyway...because that's part of who you are, Mana-san. Just like...just like Evangelion is a part of me," he admitted, with utter reluctance and hidden revulsion.

"...I guess you have a point," she finally admitted, stepping away with a resigned sigh. "...sorry about that. Had some bad dreams. Didn't know what to make of them." Letting LABRYS droop slightly, she added, "I just...needed to hit something."

Nervously scratching at the back of his head, Shinji said, "well...glad to help?" (It was strange, thinking of the struggles they shared when it came to enduring the hardships of life...)

It was at that moment where a distant yell caught their attention; Mana looked over his shoulder, and Shinji followed her gaze. Misato was running down the hill at top speed, keeping a tight hand over her beret. "I heard screaming and smashing," loudly said Misato, exhaling heavily as she slowed her pace to a staggered gallop. "What the hell is going on?"

"...just working off some tension with a spar," truthfully said Mana.

"Yeah, well...kindly keep spars from happening without adult supervision, okay?" she advised, crossing her arms with irritation (even as her eyes betrayed naked worry).

"Sorry, Misato-san," acknowledged Shinji with a slight bow. "It...was rather sudden."

A new voice — deep and male — suddenly interrupted them. "Sudden it was: a sudden display of two youths, bemoaning the loss of innocence in two strikingly different ways!" Shinji, Mana, and Misato all blinked, glancing towards the road adjacent to the large plot of grass; a thin and lanky man in a blue kimono was observing the two teenagers, his thumbs and index fingers connected to form a rectangular frame. As one taking a picture, he remarked, "a truly marvelous expression of tragic beauty..."

"...who are you?" asked Mana.

(Misato frowned. "Where've I seen this guy before...?" she muttered under her breath.)

Peering keenly, the man — long blue hair flowing with each movement — moved about in a circle, his long legs creating enough movement to reveal painters pants (marred with old and faded splatters of color) underneath his kimono. "A symmetrical asymmetry," he mused, running a hand over his thin beard, mustache, and goatee; without warning, he slid in closer to run a finger along the edges of LABRYS and AIGIS.

Mana snarled, "hey, watch it-!"

"Instruments of war, wielded by one so young: a tool of carnage and a shield of protection, held by a mere child; such is the way of this world." He spoke aloud, uncaring for Mana's offense. "And yet alongside her comrade, she roars and screams to the heavens, bewailing the injustice of it all!" Without warning, the man was suddenly besides Unit-01; uncaring for the obvious supernatural nature of the Evangelion, he ran his hands alongside the thoughtbeast's forearms. "And this boy, so solemn and serious, wearing a face unfit for children...and yet his exquisite passion burns through every fiber of his summoned familiar! The flames of youth, ever eternal in life: burning outward for one, smoldering inwardly for the other!" With a pained cry, he fell to his knees, hands held open as though he were in mourning. "Alas...such a breathtaking moment...lost to memory...!"

Shinji blinked...

His Other and the Beast were both stunned into silence by the display.

...before asking, "how come?" (Part of him wondered why he was inviting the stranger to talk even more.)

(Misato grimaced. "He sounds really familiar..." she whispered to herself.)

As if a switch flipped, the man looked at him. "Ah. In my excitement, I'm afraid I ran off our bus without my sketchpad. A troubling recurrence, I must confess."

"...'our' bus?" repeated Shinji.

Misato suddenly snapped her fingers. "That's where I remembered you from! I've seen you on TV! You're named Kitagawa, right?"

"A fan, outside of an event?" he murmured. "My apologies, but my manager is quite strict on when I can provide autographs. Please understand."

"I'm good, thanks," muttered Misato, crossing her arms.

Rising back to his feet, the man politely bowed. "Forgive my poor manners. I am Yusuke Kitagawa, member of the Emporium. I'm afraid the sight of your beautiful struggle robbed me of my reason."

"...no hard feelings?" politely answered Shinji.

"How was our fight 'beautiful'?" demanded a confused Mana.

"It appears you are both neophytes in the ways of art. It is perfectly understandable; I'm sure that you will be duly enlightened in time," sagely said Yusuke.

It was at that moment that the sound of someone gasping for breath reached their ears; looking back down the road, they saw none other than Junpei Iori, doubled over and leaning on his knees. "How...the hell...can you run...that fast...in geta...?!"

Yusuke frowned, tapping his traditional wooden sandals for emphasis. "My footwear is perfectly adequate for any occasion...except for hot springs, unfortunately."

Misato looked at the man as though he had a screw loose.

Finally catching his breath, Junpei stood back up, saying, "look...the bus pulled up alongside the cafe. Let's head on back before your boss gets in the mood to tear you a new one, okay?"

"...I suppose discretion is the better part of valor, or so the saying goes," admitted Yusuke, folding his hands inside the sleeves of his kimono before sedately walking towards the cafe, his sandals clip-clopping all the way.

"Well, that was a thing," grumbled Misato before turning back to the two teens. "You kids good?"

"...as good as can be," relented Mana.

"We're fine, Misato-san," said Shinji, dismissing Unit-01. "We're fine..." For a given value of 'fine', at any rate.

Misato stared meaningfully at them both. At least, until Junpei interrupted them. "Hey, come on over to the cafe! I'd at least like to formally introduce you to my wife and her coworkers...of which you've met one already..."

His offer was the perfect excuse to break the awkward silence. "Then let's not keep them waiting," replied Misato.

xxxx

By the time Junpei, Misato, Shinji, and Mana arrived back the cafe, a few curious locals were observing the bus — a genuine doubler-decker, a Mitsubishi Fuso Aero King to be precise — before vacating from the obvious commotion inside. Opening the door, it was clear to see why.

"Kitagawa, what have I told you?" said a severe-looking woman, arms crossed in a clear image of irritation; wearing a long white dress with a black crisscross pattern and a cotton shawl colored a pleasing shade of teal, her whole demeanor screamed 'elegantly dangerous.'

"To not take off running while the bus is in motion," admitted Yusuke.

"And what did you do?"

"What you told me not to do."

"And why did you do it?"

"Because inspiration demanded I do so!"

The woman raised her black sunglasses, setting them atop her head of wavy black hair. Combined with the single white streak going down the right side of her face, her brown eyes seemed as sharp as daggers. "Incorrect. You did so because you were being foolish."

"And a fool for art is what I have always been!"

All the while, a red-haired woman in a frilly white dress was sitting at a corner, quietly sketching without a care in the world; sitting beside her was a middle-aged man dressed in business casual clothing, fit for a hot summer day. His dark brown hair was just long enough to frame the upper half of his face, highlighting the half-rimmed eyeglasses which were the most distinctive part about him (which was an odd thing to say; was it possible for normalcy to be unique?). Oddly enough, if Shinji imagined an older Kensuke, this man fit the bill rather well.

In like manner, utterly ignoring the display was a tall (easily over six feet) and muscular (with the physique of a brawler rather than a bodybuilder) man wearing a black tank top and blue jeans; the 'punk' image was further solidified by the stud piercing in his nose and the streak of bleached blond going through his short black hair. By contrast, that aesthetic was utterly undone by the tool belt he wore, which contained various items for crafts — kits for sewing, woodcarving, knitting, and painting — within their pockets. He was apparently in the middle of a spirited discussion, centered around...a plain coffee mug. "-I'm just saying is that your shop is kinda hoity-toity for a village, ain't it?" asked the man, sounding somewhat rough and blunt.

Sojiro was obviously not impressed. "Are you going to order?" he dryly asked.

"I mean, don't all of these mugs being so uniform ruin the 'small town' vibe? Mom and pop shops are all about being unironically kitschy, right? It's part of the charm, right?"

"Too bad this is just a 'pop' shop, then. Your order?"

"Look, a little splash of color on your mugs will make this place feel homey. I'll even paint 'em, free of charge!"

"Your order, sir?"

The man seemed to realize that this 'battle' was a lost cause. "...I'll have your sweetest mocha, then."

Through all of this, Kensuke, Toji, and Mayumi were in a corner by themselves, watching the events with...trepidation. Shinji and Mana slunk towards them, where he asked, "um...what's happening...?"

"Well, we could see your spar from here," remarked Kensuke, pointing towards the window. "Then we saw the guy in the kimono bolt from out of nowhere towards you."

"How does he run so fast in geta?" wondered Mayumi.

"Then that double-decker rolled up and these guys came in while Iori-san ran after...'Kitagawa', I think the lady said his name was?" Toji huffed, looking distinctly irritated. "I mean, seriously...who are these guys?"

"...Kitagawa-san mentioned something about being the member of an 'Emporium'," said Shinji. I wonder what he meant by that...?

At that moment, the relatively normal-looking man interjected from his table. "It's a bit of an abrupt introduction, but I suppose it'll serve as a decent segue." Gesturing towards the others, he explained, "the Emporium started years ago as an artist collective, to promote the arts in the wake of Second Impact. After all, life is made better by an appreciation for that which enhances our love of the world's beauty, correct?"

Beside him, the red-haired woman suddenly remarked, "too circuitous. Not poetic enough. Five out of ten."

The man chuckled, taking the harsh criticism in stride. "From what Junpei's told us, you're already acquainted with him; this lady here is his wife, Chidori. As for me, I'm Keisuke Hiraga, the administrator of the Emporium. I basically take care of all the busywork related to running the business side of things." He gestured towards the tall man with the nose piercing. "That there is Kanji Tatsumi." Finally, pointing towards Kitagawa and the woman, Hiraga said, "you've already become acquainted with Yusuke Kitagawa; the lovely woman over there is Kyoka, my wife. She's the general manager of the Emporium, and is the one tasked with handling this little eclectic group of personalities."

"A confession of incompetency, or of being a deadbeat?" wondered Chidori aloud, not even looking up from her sketch. "Surprisingly honest. Six out of ten."

Keisuke chuckled at the barb. "As ever, you save your harshest words for anyone who's not your husband."

It was at this moment that Junpei slid in to the chair on the other side of Chidori, placing a hand upon her shoulder. "What can I say? Not my fault you lack my charm, boss-man."

The young teenagers looked among each other, rather perplexed by the sudden arrival of such disparate personalities. "...I feel exhausted just tryin' to think about all of this," grumbled Toji, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

Shinji, looking back towards Kitagawa and Miss Hiraga — both glaring rather dangerously at each other — couldn't help but agree.

After the initial bedlam had finally settled, everyone had rearranged some of the tables so that the teenagers could face the Emporium; Misato and Junpei were off to the side, content with standing.

As Sojiro handled his regulars (all of whom gave the impromptu gathering a collective stare), Kitagawa found himself tilting his head with appreciation at the music coming from the cafe's speakers. "A surprisingly modern sound, for such an establishment. There is a crispness within the distortion..."

Chidori mumbled in agreement, still sketching the same piece from earlier.

"So...what exactly brings your group through Nishiawakura?" politely asked Mayumi.

"In the practical order, we had to drop off Junpei Iori," explained Kyoka Hiraga née Ochimizu, sipping from a cup of black coffee. "Much like the Featherman girls, the Emporium is currently on an art tour: promoting new pieces, driving crowds to local galleries, boosting the local economy...standard stuff, really."

"But our little group has a relatively positive effect on people's cognitions, as far as I've been told," interjected Keisuke Hiraga, laying a hand on his wife's shoulder. (Of the two, Shinji could tell that the husband was the softer and more genial of the duo, whereas the wife was the stern taskmaster; they formed a comfortable yin-yang of sorts.) "Young artists also look up to our little collective as well."

"Given all the shit that's happened since Second Impact, it was pretty important to give kids role models, you know?" explained Kanji, sipping from his mocha. He stared at the mug, grimacing at its blank surface. "...would be a lot better with the picture of a chibi cat. Or maybe a dog...maybe a fox...no, a bear..."

"We had been scheduled to go to Okayama after our stop in Tottori, but the aftermath of the Olympics changed our plans somewhat," acknowledged Mister Hiraga. "Kitagawa-kun and Tatsumi-kun enjoyed the extra time with their wives, I'm sure."

"But the show must go on," said Mrs. Hiraga, sharply watching some local teenagers gawking at the parked double-decker bus.

"A reunion that was all-too-brief," mourned Kitagawa, staring at his fingers. "The inspiration which my bride and I cultivated and shared-"

"If I am not allowed to talk about what Junpei-kun and I do behind closed doors, neither can you speak of whatever it is you and Hifumi-chan do," interrupted Chidori, still sketching all the while.

Yusuke frowned. "I can assure you that our mutual artistic endeavors are sublimely passionate-"

"Maybe not in front of the teenagers?" said Junpei, trying to wave him off at the past.

"...a fair point," admitted the eccentric artist, running lanky fingers through his goatee. "I suppose the economic nature of our tour has simply gotten to me..."

Tatsumi shrugged, idly whittling at a small block of cedar that he had pulled from somewhere. "Even artists gotta eat. And if people wanna pay for our stuff, I say let 'em."

"And yet the ideal is precisely what we strive for," said Yusuke with surprising vigor. "The temptation of getting swept away by commercialism can seduce even the most frugal of sages."

Kanji grimaced. "There's a difference between bein' a sell-out and letting people pay you for the stuff you wanted to make already."

Yusuke frowned. "And who decides where the fine line between avarice and-?!"

"No talking about economics, you two," said Kyoka, speaking with the sharpness of a whip cracking.

The two men offered contrite murmurs in reply.

Chidori promptly flipped her sketch around, showing a dragon (with a hairstyle very similar to Miss Hiraga's) breathing fire. The entire countryside was ablaze. "I am unsure as to where this inspiration came from," she said, so flatly and with such seriousness that Shinji had no idea if she was joking or not.

"...well, this has been more entertaining than I expected," admitted Kensuke, lightly smiling at the strangely chaotic energy the trio of artists exuded.

"We thought it best to at least take a brief break before resuming our trip to Akashi," explained Keisuke.

"Admittedly, the Featherman girls spoke rather fondly of this place, despite the brevity of their own visit," admitted Kyoka.

"I am most intrigued by the dwelling they spoke of: a traditional Japanese ryokan, converted to a personal residence? A surprisingly luxurious home," audibly pondered Yusuke.

Shinji waved his hands, trying to ward off the speculation. "N-Not really, it's not that big..."

"It's honestly more of a pet shelter than a home, given how many cats there are," remarked Toji with a huff.

Tatsumi (still carving away at the tiny block of cedar) suddenly frowned, looking intently towards the teenagers. "...how many cats?"

Mayumi looked at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression, trying to recall the precise count. "...hmm. I think I've counted at least thirty...?"

"...where exactly is the ryokan?" he asked.

Mayumi pointed towards the windows. "It's actually just up the hill, across the tracks; you should be able to see it poking above the treeline-"

And just like that, Kanji was out the door.

A strange expression flickered across Yusuke's eyes. "A rare chance to witness Kanji-kun in the midst of animal-induced ecstasy..." With surprising swiftness, he darted out the door, towards the bus, and then towards the ryokan; in his hands was a large sketchpad, a canvas notebook, and a satchel of various utensils for drawing and painting.

Chidori seemed...thoughtful. "An opportunity to sketch Kitagawa-kun watching Tatsumi-kun, amidst a bunch of felines..." She briefly exchanged a look with Junpei before rising to her feet, taking off with a short yet purposeful stride.

"...what just happened?" asked Mana.

"They've succumbed to one of their 'moods', unfortunately," grumbled Kyoka, leaning back in her chair with an exhausted expression. "It's like herding cats at times...unironically."

Keisuke shrugged. "Well, it comes with the profession."

Speaking over the din of a coffee grinder, Sojiro asked, "can you at least keep an eye on them?! I don't want them breaking anything at my house."

"And just like that, duty calls," joked Keisuke.

As Keisuke and Kyoka rose to pursue their wayward artists, Toji shot a curious look to his fellow teens. "Those guys are somehow exhausting."

"Exhausting, yet entertaining," amended Kensuke.

At this, Shinji couldn't help but nod.

xx

As the five children rose to follow the Emporium, Misato shot Junpei a bemused expression. "Your wife is part of a pack of weirdos."

"You get used to 'em," nonchalantly answered Junpei.

"..."

"...after a few years of constant exposure."

"That's what I thought."

xxxx

Ren Amamiya had felt a strange pinch in chest, that morning; there was still some leftover tension in the house (what with the aftermath of the August New Moon, Mister P's temporary kidnapping, all of the drama related to Kurosawa's interrogations, etc.), but it wasn't that. It was...something else. (Where had he felt this feeling before?)

Still wearing his baby blue yukata (because yukatas were fantastic), Ren sipped from a cup of coffee, watching the news alongside Ryuji and Ken in silence. Kurosawa had apparently left after sunrise to take a walk in the woods (probably to have phone calls with his superiors in private), the kids had apparently accompanied Sojiro to his cafe before sunrise, and Katsuragi had gone outside to enjoy the sunrise and hadn't come back.

"-the UN Security Council has neither confirmed nor denied rumors regarding preliminary investigations by the Anti-Terror Task Force into the Annihilation of Korea-"

"It's not like there's much to find out," grumbled Ryuji, leaning on his cane. "It's obvious that the Angels did it."

"Possibly trying to find a pretext for additional sanctions against Evangelion-users, probably?" wondered Ken.

It wouldn't surprise me, mused Ren.

"-in other news, the American government is petitioning the Security Council to advance the allotted timetable regarding the Second Child's relocation to Japan, in light of the numerous reports of Acolytes and Ghosts since the 14th. Canada has also joined with them in the effort, in light of Angel Syndrome outbreaks in Montreal, Ottawa, and Toronto-"

"Can't exactly blame 'em," murmured Ryuji. "If they're the only other countries that have had to deal with Angel Syndrome because of the Evangelion-user's proximity, no wonder they want to kick 'em out."

"...it almost seems like these Angels are trying to turn public opinion against them," Ren dared to opine.

"Indeed," agreed Ken.

What are the odds this is just some kind of long play? (Given how long Yaldabaoth had worked behind the scenes to direct mankind to his desired end, he wouldn't put anything past the Angels.)

There was a sudden commotion outside, in the form of muted yet excited shouts. Ren looked over his shoulder towards the front door. Didn't sound like Katsuragi. "...I'm gonna take a look."

As he rose, Ryuji looked at his phone. "Got a message from Katsuragi; she's apparently coming back from the cafe with the kids and some visitors...ah, looks like Junpei's back. Must be the Emporium."

As Ren rattled his brain to recall that term (where had he heard it before?), he stepped outside, feeling that strange sensation subtly grow; he rounded the corner and immediately froze. (Oh.)

(No wonder.)

A tall punkish-looking man was kneeling on the lawn, grinning like a loon as he let the wild cats investigate his outstretched hands. However, Ren's focus was on a lanky man in a blue kimono, crouched on the very edge of the engawa; in his hands was a canvas, which he was painting on with strokes which alternated between slowly methodical and utterly frenzied. (He completely ignored the woman in the white dress who was standing on the grass, sketching both men in silence.) "Yes," murmured the man (oh criminy you can RECOGNIZE his tone), applying green paint into a canvas notebook with a palette knife. "Show more passion, Kanji-kun!"

"Screw you, Yusuke," the man retorted with a sickeningly sweet voice, modulating his tone and volume so that he didn't frighten the cats away. "Just ignore him, you little cuties~"

Ren stared at Yusuke, transfixed.

(Another place. Another time. Yusuke Kitagawa had volunteered to repaint LeBlanc, free of charge. When he and Haru had protested his generosity, he responded, "the Sayuri has hallowed this place for so long; as my mother's colors have brightened this quaint shop, it is only fitting that I follow in her footsteps, feeble though I am!")

(He'd been such a fantastic friend.)

(How many times did you and your wife have him spend the night because he had gotten lost after people-watching for hours?)

His recent experience with Ryuji, Sojiro, and Zenkichi forced Ren to default to a tried and true tactic (because otherwise he was going to come off as a creep): roll with it. "So," he said, clearing his throat (forcing it to speak, otherwise it would block up and he'd be unable to talk). "Fancy yourself an artist, huh?"

The man's response was immediate. "'Fancy' has nothing to do with it. It is what I am."

Ren thoughtfully cupped a hand around his chin. "Hmm...but I was under the impression that art is always an elusive creature. Can you claim to define art? Or are you one who simply seeks it?"

Yusuke glanced over his shoulder, glaring with offended intrigue. (The facial hair looked good on him, he couldn't help but muse.) "...the latter, of course."

"So you're on a journey, then! And what journey is complete without music?"

Yusuke's glare softened to a placid stare. "...you raise a valid point. And yet what possible accompaniment would fit such a scene? Masculine energy surrounded by feline graces; curious creatures wary of the peaceful interloper who presents a bestial image?"

Ren grinned (forcing it onto his face, putting on the mask to keep him going). "Let me grab my guitar."

xx

"...what the hell am I looking at?" said Misato out loud.

"Got me," said Junpei.

Shinji, Kensuke, Toji, Mana, and Mayumi were likewise besides themselves; although Kanji Tatsumi was still amongst a gaggle of curious cats, the sight of Ren Amamiya strumming an energetic yet laid-back guitar solo (somewhere in the back of Shinji's mind, the chords evoked the image of a matador fighting...a bull?) was unexpected; Yusuke Kitagawa was painting as one possessed, whilst Chidori Iori was sketching in time with the music. Kyoka seemed content to let the scene play out (because Kitagawa and Miss Iori were both making artistic pieces), whilst Keisuke was clapping along with the beat of Ren's playing.

"It's just gonna be one of those days, isn't it?" grumbled Toji.

"We might as well roll with it," said Kensuke. "Beats addressing everything else we have been dealing with."

Shinji, once more, couldn't help but agree.

xxxx

After the abrupt spree of art had ceased (by which point Ken Amada had departed to assist Agent Hasegawa with Metaverse patrols), the trio of artists had opted to split apart, moving with inscrutable purpose.

Ryuji, surprisingly, had suggested each of the kids talk with one of them.

(The older man had looked at the five teenagers, then turned to the Emporium and their husband-wife managerial duo. "Hmm...five for five. Seems like a perfect opportunity.")

After briefly conferring with Junpei (who knew their personalities best), Ryuji had paired each of the kids in a particular manner.

("Ikari-san, why don't you show Tatsumi-san your mom's music instruments? Mana-san, you're with Kitagawa-san. Aida-san, you're with Hiraga-san. Yamagishi-san, I think you'll do well with Hiraga-buchou." Ignoring the glare of irritation that Mrs. Hiraga sent his way — "You don't even work for me, Sakamoto!" — he finished, "and Suzuhara-kun...you're with Iori-chan. Which also includes Junpei by default.")

As the quintet went their separate ways, Misato looked at Ryuji with a measure of skepticism. "What's going on?"

Ryuji gave a halfhearted shrug. "Kids were in a bit of a funk yesterday. Figured some civvies would give them another perspective on things. S'not like it's only Persona-users that can give wisdom, you know?"

Misato nodded, agreeing in principle. "Guess whatever Mister P told them rattled them...damn it all."

(Ryuji declined to correct her assumption.) "Anyhow, mind walkin' with me? Need to stretch the leg, and I'd like to know about what pulled you all the way to the cafe this morning."

"Oh, that. So basically, I'm just outside enjoying the morning air, when all of a sudden I hear the familiar sounds of fighting..."

xx

Toji wasn't sure what to make of Junpei's wife, to be honest. After what he'd heard about her over the course of the summer road trip, meeting her in person was a bit of a shock. "Y'all seem like a pretty unusual pair."

Junpei chuckled; Chidori flatly ignored them as she put additional details on her earlier sketch (which featured Tatsumi as a chibi rabbit surrounded by prowling tigers; to the left of the scene, a gargoyle with a noble face was pointing a camera at the animals). "I've been told that before. Not exactly someone whose league I'm in, eh?"

"You keep referencing a 'league'," idly remarked Chidori. "I do not recall such an organization."

"...right," murmured Toji. (What was the point of this?) He looked around one of the ryokan's relatively bare guest rooms, leaning back against the floor. "Not sure why Sakamoto-sensei wanted me to talk to you two. Doesn't seem like your wife's up for it."

"I have learned that there is much one can say without talking," said Chidori, delicately tearing away her sketch and setting it to the side. She then adjusted her position on the floor, facing both Toji and Junpei. She expectantly held out a handful of pencils towards Junpei; the man smiled, pulling out a handheld pencil sharpener to grind away at the graphite nubs. Once they were honed to a fine point, he handed them back to Chidori, who examined them with a pleased hum. "You may talk as you please."

As the woman went about her sketching, Toji blinked. "Is...she sketching us?"

"She likes sketching people," explained Junpei, turning more fully towards the teen. "Anyhow, I've sort of been out of the loop since Kenny left me in Tottori on the 14th. Mind filling me on some details?"

"I think I can do that," admitted Toji, covering the gist of everything that had happened on the 15th (namely, Kurosawa's various interrogations related to the Angel battle and the Ferry Incident, as well as the brief interlude related to Sae Niijima becoming Mayumi's custodian on a provisional basis) and the 16th (the medical exams at the nearest hospital and their brief abduction by Mister P. The events within the Velvet Room, naturally, had been glossed over).

"Man, Kurosawa is such a dick," griped Junpei.

Toji snorted. "No kiddin'."

"Anyhow, do you really put a lot of stock into those warnings from Mister P? Is that what's gone you down?"

Not exactly what's got me down. "He was able to teleport us into and out of the Metaverse without warning. I figure someone like that's got some idea of what's going on."

"You think there's some adversary out there that's scarier than the Angels?"

"Not sure." (What would the Usurper even qualify as? Vague descriptions of a quasi-omnipotent being didn't do much to communicate the reality underlying those statements.) "I guess...I'm really not sure what to think." (The whole thing about reality being some kind of fake-but-not-fake dream world born from mankind's imagination was...hard to swallow. Hard to wrap his mind around. Does anything even matter anymore?)

Junpei shrugged, resting his elbows on his knees. "Well, whatever it is, you kids have managed to come through pretty well, all things considered. 'Team Statherós', you said?"

"I think we're just Statherós."

"I dunno, the 'Team' designation helps it come together."

"That's what I was thinkin'!"

"But whatever you guys chose to call yourselves, it's the fact you're thinking of yourselves like an actual team now. That's pretty damn important; it can mean the difference between life or death, when the chips are down."

"All about 'cognition', huh?"

"Yup."

"...think I'm starting to really believe it now," he mused. (But for good or ill?)

"I would like an opinion," interrupted Chidori, flipping her sketchpad around. To the right was Junpei, looking relatively detailed and relaxed; however, to the left...was a hulking figure, looking like a bearded giant.

Toji's eyes widened out of shock. "That's...Gilgamesh." How?!

Junpei chuckled. "I've learned not to question how she can do it with some Persona-users."

"Ah. I believe Kitagawa-kun has painted figures from Mesopotamian myths before. All I can remember is that Gilgamesh had great difficulty accepting the death of his friend Enkidu," said Chidori, her piercing expression falling upon Toji. "Does that scenario apply to you?"

Thoughts of his Shadow Self; thoughts of his first Awakening; thoughts of the epiphanies that had come with it; all that and more filtered through his head.

His Other sat upon a gravestone; the slab bore the names of friends and family.

"Has death's sting faded?"

Inwardly, despite what Toji had come to learn about Third Impact and the current state of humanity...the thought of dying still carried an instinctive dread. In that, there was a strange solace to be found; for how could it be, if he was not still attached to his own life? How could he fear his own mortality, if he did not consider it to be real to some degree? "...yeah. I guess it does," he admitted.

xx

Mayumi watched quietly as Kyoka Hiraga typed away at her laptop, sitting within the Sakura residence's kitchen. Lightly snacking on some rice crackers, she didn't know what to bring up. What could I even talk about that would interest the manager of an artist collective? (How would such conversations help her with the dilemma that had been thrust upon Statherós? You don't even know where to START-)

"You seem rather unsure of yourself."

Mayumi squeaked with surprise at Kyoka's abrupt words; the stern woman hadn't even looked away from her computer. "Oh. Um..."

"If you have a question, feel free to ask. You won't learn anything if you don't."

"...well..." Think of it like opening a new book, she counseled herself. "...what are you doing right now?"

"Responding to e-mails from the galleries we'll be visiting over the upcoming weeks. Schedules can vary in an instant depending on when Angel Syndrome strikes, so I have to balance flexibility in the itinerary against our artists' needs and personalities. Plus, there's also fan mail to sort through; some are forwarded to Kitagawa, Tatsumi, or Iori; some I respond to myself, depending on the message."

"It sounds...surprisingly difficult."

"When your artists are as eccentric as ours, it requires a stern hand. Even if it makes me come across as a wretched scoundrel in the eyes of the public." Sighing, the woman added, "But it increases sympathy for the artists, and so I deal with it. Every story requires a villain, after all."

Mayumi frowned. "That every story worth reading requires conflict, I would agree...but conflict doesn't always manifest as an antagonist, much less a villain."

"A fair enough point, but in the game of public relations, everyone craves heroes, and heroes need a villain to stand against. And it's the sort of conflict that is more relatable, more acceptable: better to focus on such human concerns than to worry about the existential dread of potential annihilation."

"...I suppose that's fair enough..." she admitted.

"All that Agent Iori was willing to disclose to us over the past few days was that you and your fellow teenagers are Metaverse combatants of a sort. You're the newest, correct?"

She nodded, fidgeting with her fingers underneath the table. "I just awoke to my Persona during the last new moon. It's been...an adjustment." She didn't feel comfortable enough talking about her parents' deaths, and she sure wasn't going to go into the details regarding the Velvet Room and Third Impact.

"So it would seem."

"...I'm still trying to process everything."

"I imagine you'll have to process it quicker than most. The world isn't kind to children with powers like yours." Mayumi flinched at the bluntness of Kyoka's words, prompting the woman to add, "in the end, you'll have to make choices about what you want to do, and what you want out of life. If you don't, then those choices will be made for you...and you may not like what they are."

Her Other stared at a blank page.

"The pen is always there, ready for you to pick it up."

"...I suppose that's true," she admitted. (Even if reality was a pseudo-dream world, born from the souls of humanity and the collective cognition of mankind...this life was real, for all intents and purposes. To be paralyzed by uncertainty and confusion was the same as putting down a book before reaching the end...and she refused to do so, after coming so far.)

"It certainly is true," emphasized Kyoka. "After all, everyone's the hero of their own story, correct?"

"...I'm not so sure I'm a hero in whatever story I'm in."

Kyoka snorted at the suggestion. "Ridiculous. You may doubt yourself; what teenager hasn't? But life will throw enough obstacles in your way without you putting up more for yourself. Keep that in mind: after all, though I'm seen as the 'villain' by most of the public, I'm the hero of my own story: sacrificing reputation in exchange for infamy, all for the sake of elevating others to greater heights." As she continued typing, she added as an aside, "granted, my husband says that this makes me merely an antihero instead of a villain, but his opinion doesn't matter."

"...why?"

"Because of course his opinion of me is going to be softer and more pleasant than what I am in reality."

"...well, going by standard literary conventions, the way you're describing yourself would make you an antihero, by definition. Not that there's anything wrong with that..."

Kyoka hummed noncommittally, returning to her work without another word.

Mayumi leaned back, letting silence fill the brief void. That was...interesting.

(If you think of your recent revelations in literary terms...the battle against Armisael was your personal climax. You've experienced the aftermath, and are now in the new normal...or so you thought.)

(Awakening to her Persona had been merely one conflict on her journey.)

(Will you be satisfied if you let this new conflict dissuade you from reaching the true climax?)

She had a lot to think about.

xx

Sitting on the front of the engawa, Kensuke Aida and Keisuke Hiraga were discussing a relatively...lighthearted matter. "I mean seriously, if you had freckles and less stylish glasses, you'd pretty much be an aged-up doppelganger of me," insinuated Aida.

Hiraga arched an eyebrow. "Given that you're younger than I am, wouldn't it be the other way around? Without the freckles, you would be my more youthful clone."

"Minor detail."

"Not exactly sure I'm seeing the resemblance," murmured Hiraga, folding his hands and resting them in his lap. "Superficial physical similarities aren't enough to establish connections by themselves...unless you're insinuating that you're my long-lost child or something."

The utter ambivalence with which the mild-mannered administrator delivered the joke made Kensuke snort. "Nah, I know whose kid I am. I'm just trying to take the edge off."

"Joking about one's parentage is generally frowned upon. Parental troubles?"

Kensuke shrugged. (He'd probably never see Keisuke Hiraga again after today; what harm would come of talking?) "My mother was an A.T. Agent who died in unknown circumstances, my dad and I have coped with it in different ways, and he doesn't really approve of the fact that I'm following in her footsteps."

"Ah, father issues. Relatable."

"Seriously?"

Keisuke nodded, idly watching a tabby cautiously lead her kittens from one portion of the woods to another. "My father was the former Governor of Kyoto. I was raised with an expectation of succeeding him in the halls of political power; perhaps move even further on to Prime Minister. But it never really interested me; even if governmental authority is necessary in certain ways, it's not exactly my preferred method of helping people. I was good at art, myself; even got some awards as an aspiring amateur when I was a teenager. But I think what got me the most enthusiastic was helping people engage with their own creativity. It just felt like the right thing to do, after Second Impact; it's why I eventually bowed out of politics entirely to focus on founding the Emporium. My father wasn't...pleased, to put it mildly. Especially since it allowed for the candidate from a rival party to run practically unopposed." Keisuke's smile briefly flinched, losing life in the wake of sorrow's shadow. "I personally thought quite highly of Toranosuke Yoshida; a shame about his recent passing. Can't say I approve of his successor Shido...but that's neither here nor there. Probably not something someone your age would be terribly interested in."

"It depends. Political matters are pretty intertwined with cognitive affairs, these days."

"Fair enough. The Emporium's early years were pretty good; Hisano Kuroda's rather macabre works fit the public's mood in the years following Second Impact, while Bunkichi and Mitsuko Kitamura were a boyfriend-girlfriend duo who touched that 'romantic' nerve that a lot of youths were looking for. Ichiryusai Madarame was also relatively interesting: he aspired to be a master of every style, though he ended up being more of a 'jack of all trades, master of none' type..."

"Do artists 'graduate' from the Emporium?"

"If they desire to go independent, that's their business and their right. However, the current trio of artists who headline the Emporium are...special."

That's putting it mildly. "They seem...a little out there."

"Their personality clashes were what prompted me to seek out an assistant to take over my duties as general manager so I could focus on being the Emporium's administrator. Given Kyoka's prior experience in the entertainment industry, she fit the bill...and, somehow, we clicked in more ways than one...but I'm sure my little romance isn't something that you're interested in."

(It was weird, thinking about a marriage that was a literal byproduct of humanity's collective unconscious. Would the 'real' Keisuke Hiraga have even given Kyoka a second thought?) "Well...I guess your old man is still pretty miffed that you've stuck with the whole Emporium thing?" That would be the perfect bit of dramatic irony: an adult with an uncannily similar physical appearance having daddy issues as well? (Were they both real? Was Keisuke Hiraga a figment based on people's cognition of Kensuke Aida? Maybe you're based on people's cognition of Keisuke Hiraga. Wouldn't that be a kick in the pants?)

"Actually, he passed away several years ago, when he transformed into an Acolyte."

...oh. "Uh..." Kensuke suddenly felt sheepish. "Sorry about that..."

"Don't be. It's not like it was your fault. Still...even though my father and I didn't see eye-to-eye on what constituted a good life, I know he only wanted what was best for me. We just...had a philosophical disagreement on what was 'best'." Hiraga looked insightfully at him, a sense of wisdom leaking through his laidback expression. "I can't comment on what exactly your issues with your father might be; after all, you're you and I'm me. But speaking from experience...I recommend getting any disagreements ironed out. After all, tomorrow isn't guaranteed."

"...yeah. That's true," he was forced to admit. (Was it possible that his own conflict was being imagined by his own 'real' self? In like manner, was his father's true cognition reacting accordingly? If so...wouldn't that make his difficulties simply a different flavor of real?)

(If you think about it...all of this is reality. It's only by proxy, instead of immediate.)

(This reality, in a sense, was experienced by everyone remotely, instead of proximately...yet they were all engaging in the same scenario.)

(In other words...that means it still matters, and you know it.)

His Other quietly looked through a dusty biography.

"History and the experiences of others may not feel real to us...but that doesn't mean they didn't happen."

...man, life was a lot less confusing yesterday morning, Aida thought with a frown. "I need to chew through that; mind distracting me with some funny stories about your time with the Emporium?"

Hiraga smiled. "I most certainly can; shortly before Madarame-kun went independent, Yusuke Kitagawa joined the Emporium; they got into a brief discussion about artistic ethics and duties...and I have to say, you would have thought the world was going to end with how vociferously Kitagawa-kun was tearing Madarame-kun a new one..."

xx

Mana Kirishima honestly didn't know what to make of Yusuke Kitagawa.

"Hmm...here? Or perhaps here...?" Kitagawa was holding his newly-painted piece between both hands, trying to divine where it should go. Apparently. "Above the television? No, it needs a pride of place...and yet what if people seek comfort in a quiet place? Perhaps on the wall of one of the side halls..."

He's just going back-and-forth between the Entry Hall and the side halls and the empty guest rooms. What was the point?

"I can sense your skepticism," mused Kitagawa, looking over his shoulder with a confused expression. "I'm not sure why you seem so befuddled."

Mana shrugged, briefly shifting AIGIS and LABRYS as they hung from her back. "Well...it sure doesn't look anything like what happened."

Kitagawa held up his painted canvas, which displayed an exaggerated humanoid figure amidst splotches of colored paint, all against a background of green. "What is it that you see?"

"Just...colors. That doesn't look like Tatsumi or the cats."

"Hmm. I suppose you must expect all paintings to be photorealistic replications? I was in an expressionist mood, so I sought to convey the impassioned excitement of Kanji-kun amidst avatars of wild nature."

Mana blinked.

"Hmm. It seems you have minimal experience with art in general." Looking off to the side, he added, "I believe Chidori-chan's husband mentioned your circumstances...but I may have forgotten."

Mana blinked again. (How does anyone forget anything related to your story?!) "Well, there's really not much to say. Got kidnapped as an orphan and turned into a child soldier. Ended up in Katsuragi's care." She didn't feel much like telling him anything further, if he was just going to forget again.

"Ah. Little wonder, that your motions from earlier carried such rage. Your story has its own passion, then."

"...you speak oddly."

"Thank you."

(Was what she had said actually a compliment?) "It's just...I don't get why you talk about 'art' the way you do. What even is 'art'?"

Kitagawa smiled. "A lovely question...and one with myriad answers, all seeking to express an underlying truth." Walking back into the entry hall, he placed his painting onto an empty chair, grabbing the remote to turn off the television. "No need for reminders of wretched events...hmm. Perhaps a demonstration would help...would you mind taking a seat? I would prefer if you hold your weapons, since they seem to carry such importance for you." Mana nodded, resting her shield and axe in her lap. "Perfect." Yusuke withdrew his sketchpad, pulling a stick of compressed charcoal out of his satchel. "My style is a bit different from Chidori-chan's; she veers towards realism and impressionism, with an occasional taste for the abstract. I specialize in the abstract, and greatly enjoy expressionism and surrealism, though I profess significant fondness for traditional methods native to Asia-"

"This isn't answering my question," she interrupted. "I don't know what those terms mean."

"Hmm...a fair point." As he began moving his charcoal across the sketchpad with purposeful strokes, he explained, "art...involves the creative talents of human beings, to express different facets of human experience. What those facets are, and how they are expressed, varies greatly from person to person, from style to style, from medium to medium. Oceans worth of ink have been spent to try and determine the nature of art, to grasp its essence; an entire philosophical field arose specifically to try and answer those questions. Such is the task of aesthetics. To try and capture the extent of the questions that aesthetics has tried to answer would take an eternity."

"So why bother?"

"Because everyone grasps with fundamental questions at some point, I believe: what is good? What is true? What is beauty?" As he continued sketching, Kitagawa went silent.

After several seconds, Mana tilted her head. "Kitagawa?"

"My apologies. I was trying to consider an answer, but discarded my first choices as insufficient...but I am not trying to satisfy myself. I am trying to satisfy your curiosity."

"What's the difference?"

"A novice or a neophyte would accept answers that an expert would not; an expert would be satisfied with that which a master would deem unsuitable...I suppose, in a sense, that there is an objective reality with many underlying subjective realities; probably as many as there are people. After all, the human imagination varies wildly from person to person. Now...take your position as a child soldier. That is an objective fact. Yet how you feel about it is likely different from how others feel about it. Those emotional differences are still valid expressions, but which ones correspond most closely with the truth? Such is the task of the artist, I believe: to try and express the totality of human experience, to make people appreciate the truths of existence more fully than they would with brutal objectivity alone."

"...sounds complicated." (She wasn't sure if she believed it, either.)

"Art can be technically complicated, yet carry a frighteningly simple message...in like manner, art can be delightfully simple, yet evoke a complex array of emotions!"

Mana frowned. "How is that even possible?"

"Hopefully, I'll be able to convince you...do you have a fond memory?"

(Of course she did.) "Yeah."

"Think of something that makes you happy...particularly from your time before becoming a child soldier: that era of naivete and innocence."

That was easy enough; for all the physical hardships that she and her siblings had faced, Big Sis had done her best to look after them all. It had been a simpler time, a joyful time-

"There. That smile was plenty." Kitagawa's hand moved more quickly now.

She hadn't even realized she had smiled. "...answer me another question: why exactly were you so...excited to see me and Ikari fight?"

"It was not the fact of fighting itself which made me excited," he easily explained. "It was the surprisingly mature emotions that such young children manifested. Ah, if only I had remembered to bring my sketchpad...I can only fathom what I would have been able to capture...!"

"...you seem pretty enthusiastic about art."

"It has been a passion I have possessed for as long as I can remember...and thanks to the Emporium, it has been a passion that I've been able to share with others. More than that, it has allowed me to help others grow and express their own passions that they might have otherwise left untended, as seeds amidst a barren field." Kitagawa lowered his charcoal, staring at his sketchpad with a pleased expression. "Hmm...I believe this should do it." He flipped the the sketchpad around. "What do you think?"

All thoughts left Mana's mind, and her breath escaped. What...what am I looking at? The sketch was unnerving in what it depicted: Mana sitting in a chair, crying with a pained grimace; in her hands was a picture of herself as a younger girl, bearing a big grin; beside her was a taller girl with longer hair, whilst a smaller girl with a short haircut was hugging her midriff. Meanwhile, two humanoid silhouettes — bearing the proportion of young boys — stood in the background, facing away. "What...?"

"Your emotions earlier bore rage and sadness in equal measure; you come across as a rather melancholy individual, precisely because of the happiness you remember and have lost. For some reason, your weapons seem to carry quite a bit of personality; I depicted your axe as an older sister, seeking to be a sturdy foundation. Likewise, the shield comes across as the youngest, seeking to protect you with a love that blocks the harshness of the world...and yet it seemed incomplete. Three were not enough, so I placed two other people in the background: shapeless, yet with enough form to signify an old memory..." He trailed off. "I'm sorry, have I upset you?"

"...no." Swallowing futilely, she managed to choke out, "art seems pretty cool."

"Indeed!" he said with a satisfied smile.

"...can I have it? The sketch, I mean?"

"Of course!" Kitagawa carefully ripped out the page, delicately handing it to her. Placing AIGIS and LABRYS onto her back, she began to walk away, staring intently at the sketch. "Young lady." Mana glanced over her shoulder; Yusuke Kitagawa bore a surprisingly solemn yet earnest expression. "I hope you find the happiness you lost...but most of all, I hope that you find joy, regardless of where it comes from."

(What can you say to that?) Wordlessly nodding, Mana retreated to the guest room where she and Mayumi had been sleeping in; the other girl wasn't present, which suited her just fine. She placed the sketch onto the floor, resting it between her axe and shield. Leaning against the wall, Mana sat down, staring intently at it...and what it had represented. (How had Yusuke Kitagawa known? How had he known?)

(You sensed no duplicity from him, and no unusual powers; he's not a Persona-user.)

(Could mere insight accomplish so much?)

(He captured everything that you felt without even trying.)

(Could such a thing be fake? Could such art be a mere figment of the imagination?)

Mana had no way of knowing for sure...

xxxx

Big Sis and Little Sis embraced her tightly, holding her snugly between them.

So long as they existed, they would never abandon her willingly.

xxxx

...but she couldn't find it in herself to care about such questions, at the moment.

So Mana buried her face into her hands and wept.

xx

Shinji had led Kanji to the storage room, wherein the various musical instruments caught his attention. Ren Amamiya had tagged along.

"Seriously, these things would sell for a pretty penny," remarked Kanji, still whittling away with a carving knife at a block of cedar. "I mean, what's the point of 'em collectin' dust in an old guy's house? Er...unless you were planning to take them once you graduated school."

"...I don't think either of us thought that far ahead," admitted Shinji, letting the quiet chords of Ren's acoustic guitar provide background music. His senpai was sitting out in the hall, strumming to a tune only he could hear. "There've been other things on our mind, Tatsumi-san."

"Eh, call me Kanji. Having kids talk to me so formally always feels damn weird."

"...er, Kanji-san-"

"No honorifics, just Kanji."

(He was awfully insistent.) "...Kanji?"

"There, that wasn't so hard, was it, Ikari-san?" His surprise at Kanji's one-eighty in honorific usage elicited a grin from the older man. "Just 'cause I don't much care for 'em doesn't mean you don't. It's all about mutual respect, you know?"

"I...suppose that's true..."

Kanji smirked, moving about to lean against another wall as he whittled away. "Yeah, Naoto pegged you as a pretty sober kid. But hell, if half of the rumors are true, you've kinda had to get serious about stuff, yeah?"

The name triggered a bit of a memory. "Naoto..." The insightful actress who had played Pearl Phoenix! "She's your wife?"

Kanji grinned goofily. "Hell yeah she is! Two peas in a ying-yang pod, that's what we are." He whipped out his phone, pulling up an image. "This is from last year's Halloween costume party! I was Princess Plum, and she was Gario!"

It was an interesting juxtaposition: Kanji was in a floofy purple dress that did nothing to hide his muscular torso, his short hair hidden under a long blonde wig. The picture had apparently been timed right as Naoto — dressed in an orange turtleneck sweater underneath blue overalls, wearing white workman's gloves and a dirty cap — had dipped him down during a waltz; the fake walrus mustache and sideburns did nothing to hide her grimace at trying to keep him from falling to the floor. "...interesting," he said diplomatically. (He couldn't recall meeting anyone who had recreationally engaged in crossdressing before.)

Seeing his confusion, the man explained, "sort of a game we play with each other. Not in a weird way or anythin' like that," he quickly added. "It's just that growing up, my interests veered towards the feminine side of things. Kids are quick to pick on that, you know? Junior High and High School sucked, let's put it that way. Naoto was the same from the other end: too stern, too serious, too masculine: not 'girly' enough."

"...how did you two meet?"

"Was doing a consulting job for a toy company on their new Featherman figures. Naoto just happened to be there to do poses for the Pearl Phoenix line, and that's how we started talking. Before you know it, well, we got hitched. She helps me feel like a man, and I help her feel like a woman. Like soulmates, am I right?!" He pointed proudly towards the stud piercing on his nose. "This little jewel's actually from her wedding ring; she had my ring melted down to serve as ornamentation on her Swiss army knife that she carries around in her pocket. 'Cause you never know with some people these days, eh?"

It was a rather unique way of exchanging vows, Shinji couldn't help but muse. "That seems...nice, actually." (It felt surprisingly heartfelt, for such a gruff personality.)

"Our work keeps us pretty busy; s'why I've got a bit of her with me, and she's got a bit of me with her."

"Is...that why you look the way you do?"

Kanji shrugged halfheartedly. "Partly. Picked up on this style while in school to put up a tough guy image when I was younger, just so kids would stop pickin' on me. Now, I wear it to show kids that even tough guys can like cute things. Because we got more important things to worry about than stupid crap, you know? So what if a boy likes sewing or doing housework? So what if a girl likes to get her hands dirty? Doesn't make 'em any less of a man or a woman. If my work at the Emporium can help with that, then it's worth occasionally getting chewed out by the Boss Lady or by Yusuke."

Shinji couldn't help but smile; despite his exterior demeanor, Kanji was just undeniably enthusiastic about who he was and what he liked. (It was honestly contagious.) "You seem...less focused on art, that Kitagawa-san or Iori-san."

"Eh, I've never been much one for the theory and philosophy of art. I've just liked making cute shit...er, sorry for swearing." Sighing, he added, "don't know why Chidori's got this Western dollhouse goth thing going, and Yusuke would probably marry Art if it were a real person...and if Hifumi didn't kill him first...but anyway, we've managed to make it work."

(Now you can't help but wonder.) "...is there a reason that Sakamoto-san wanted me to spend time with you?"

"As compared to any of the others? Beats me," admitted Kanji. "You'd have probably learned something from Yusuke or Chidori, or from the Boss Man or the Boss Lady. I have no idea what you kids really have to endure, so I ain't gonna pretend otherwise. I guess, if I had to say...focus on making sure you can live with yourself. Pretty sure you've had to do some pretty tough stuff that grown-ups should really be taking care of, but that's Post-Impact life for you. But if you're happy with who you are, then it'll make it a lot easier to handle."

(That was the key question, wasn't it?)

His Other walked along a lonely road.

"You may not be able to see the end...but if you keep going, you'll eventually make it."

Along the side of the dusty trail, the Beast casually tore up a roadmap.

"But we all know that you despise so much of yourself...why bother even trying?"

"...and if there are parts of you that you don't like?"

"Can't say. Maybe just focus on the parts of you that you do like? Might make it easier to deal with the tough crap."

Feeling surprisingly invigorated by Kanji's charisma, Shinji lightly bowed his head. "Thank you for your advice, Kanji-sa..." Catching himself, he amended with, "Kanji."

Kanji chuckled. "See? Kids have always been quick learners; you're no exception." Staring intently at the wooden figure he was carving, the man asked, "mind trying out that cello? No offense to the guitar hero-"

"None taken!" chirped Ren from out in the hall.

"-but I tend to do better work with some classical music goin'. Keeps the nerves calm."

Shinji looked quietly at the string instrument. Even if his memories of life before June 2015 were fuzzy to nonexistent — even if his skills with a cello didn't make sense — the knowledge of Third Impact and the current state of mankind, ironically enough, eased the contradictions in his mind. It probably has something to do with that...maybe I learned it in a past life...?

The Other and the Beast were silent.

All such curiosities faded as Shinji grabbed a bow, checked the tension in the strings, and began to play the Prelude from Bach's Suite No. 1.

xxxx

Ren Amamiya, apparently of his own volition, had decided to make curry.

("Sure, we could go for lunch at the bottom of the hill...but that would involve walking," the high school student had joked. "Besides, Sojiro's probably dealing with the lunch rush, still...think he'll mind if I use the ingredients here? No? Perfect.")

Shinji wasn't quite sure as to whether or not Amamiya-senpai was being facetious. Sakura-sensei will be fine so long as he cleans up the kitchen...maybe?

Alas, it was less than an hour later — by which time Amada had returned, alongside the Hasegawas as a bit of a surprise — that Amamiya was ladling homemade curry on top of plates of steamed rice. "As the Germans say: bon appétit."

"...is that what the Germans say?" asked Toji.

"That's not what the Germans say," chorused Misato, Kyoka, and Mayumi.

Judging by the sarcastic grin, Ren knew this quite well. "Of course, what was I thinking? That's the Spanish."

"Don't feed the troll," remarked Kensuke, eagerly stirring his curry together.

Lunch was...an eventful affair.

xx

Yusuke Kitagawa breathed as one in ecstasy. "Ah...ha ha ha..."

"...you okay, Kitagawa-kun?" asked Keisuke Hiraga.

"I feel...as if I've been plunged into an ocean...and instead of drowning, I welcome the sweet death at the hands of this ambrosia...!"

"Come on dude, it's just curry," said Ryuji, looking at Yusuke with a confused expression.

"Are you a food critic?"

"Well, no-"

"Then cease your slander against this dish, uncultured heathen!"

(Kyoka began kneading the bridge of her nose. "Oh gods, he's in one of those moods again...")

"Uncultured?" retorted Ryuji with a cross expression, hackles rising...until, with a heavy sigh, he leaned back on his hands. "Guess that makes me uncultured then."

Yusuke looked honestly perplexed. "Odd. I assumed you would fly into a rage, and then we would engage in a passionate debate about ideals and philosophy!"

"Wouldn't be the first time I've disappointed someone."

Yusuke grimaced with genuine anguish. "It was not my intention to initiate a spell of self-deprecation. My apologies."

"You're...welcome?" hesitantly replied Ryuji,

(Zenkichi Hasegawa looked quietly towards Misato. "Where'd you find these people?" he whispered.)

(Misato shrugged, unable to hide her looks of amusement.)

xx

Kanji, finishing the last of his plate, slowly reached for his pocket-

"No whittling at the table, Tatsumi," chided Kyoka.

"Oh come on, we're not even in public!"

"If I cannot sketch while we're eating, neither can you whittle," murmured Chidori, daintily opening her mouth to let Junpei spoon-feed her.

Kanji pouted.

("Why am I surrounded by so many childish adults...?" Amada muttered to himself.)

xx

"So," inquired Akane Hasegawa, looking amongst her fellow teens, clustered as they were near the end of the low tables. "I haven't actually seen any of you since before the New Moon."

"Four days ago," remarked Shinji, looking thoughtfully towards the ceiling. "That feels...so long ago."

"No kidding," murmured Mana, who had seemed oddly subdued.

"...is everything okay, Mana-san?" asked Mayumi.

"M'fine," she muttered, stuffing another spoonful of curry into her mouth.

Akane wisely decided to change the course of the conversation. "So...Yamagishi-san, I overheard my dad and Amada-san talking the other day. Are you a Persona-user now?"

"...yes, actually."

Akane pouted, falling onto her back with an exaggerated groan. "Now I'm the only civilian...this is lame."

"Enjoy it while you can," grumbled Toji. "You'll be missing it before long."

"...this is really good curry," remarked Kensuke, grinning at his own non-sequitur.

xx

From the kitchen, Ren watched the carefully controlled chaos with a watchful eye. His eyes were drawn towards Ryuji and Yusuke: despite the numerous differences, there seemed to be a strange chemistry between the duo. I wonder...if brotherly bonds can persist even from one life to the next...?

(Another place. Another time. Ryuji, after finally getting through physical rehab for his leg, had suffered a high ankle sprain; such was its severity that a cast had been required by the doctor. Yusuke, naturally, had loudly demanded the honor of coloring the cast. Ryuji had seemed resigned...until it came to pass that Yusuke's painting session had been a sneaky opportunity for the former Phantom Thieves to cheer him up and paint his cast together. Ryuji had only barely resisted bawling like a baby.)

Ren forced himself away from the reminiscing, resuming his clean-up of the kitchen. "Where have you been," he murmured to himself, humming an old song that he couldn't remember the origin of. "...been searching all along...came facing twilight on and on...without a clue...without a sign...without grasping yet...the real question to be asked...where have I been...?"

(What a question.)

xxxx

Meanwhile, on the wooded ridges behind Sojiro Sakura's house...a long phone call was wrapping up.

"...I understand," answered Hirofumi Kurosawa. "I'll see to it that we leave tomorrow...yes sir. Thank you, sir." Once his superior hung up, the severe man looked at the sky; sighing deeply, he sat down on the ground, if only to finally stop standing after what seemed like hours of pacing. Time to pay the piper, he mused with a frown.

xxxx

After Zenkichi and Akane left, the time finally came for the Emporium to depart.

"Seriously, there's like only five of you," griped Toji. "Why do you guys need a double-decker bus?"

"For my art. / For my sketches. / For my crafts." simultaneously answered Yusuke, Chidori, and Kanji.

Toji blinked. "...eh, guess that's fair...wait, what am I saying?! Why do you need a double-decker bus for just that?!"

"They have a lot of art," casually remarked Keisuke Hiraga as he hopped into the driver's seat.

"...you're licensed on that thing?!" exclaimed Kensuke.

"What, you think we have enough residual income to hire our own driver?" joked Keisuke as he turned the ignition. "Thank you for having us!"

Kyoka Hiraga turned, politely bowing towards the collective of adults and teenagers. "Thank you for your hospitality. We'll make sure to remember Nishiawakura for future travels." Glancing towards the trio of artists, she sharply said, "Kitagawa! Iori! Tatsumi! Be quick about it; we have to get to Akashi by sunset." The stern woman stepped into the passenger's seat, and the door slid shut behind her.

"We'll be there shortly," idly said Chidori Iori, not much caring whether or not Kyoka heard her. The small woman wrapped her arms around Junpei's neck, standing on her tiptoes to more easily hug him. She shared some quiet words before stepping away; with a placid expression, she spoke to Sakamoto and Amada. "Please keep him out of trouble, if at all possible."

"Asking a lot there," joked Ryuji.

"We'll do our best, Iori-san," remarked Ken.

"Man, screw you guys," grumbled Junpei, still unable to keep a satisfied grin from his face.

Chidori turned towards the quintet of young teenagers, bowing lightly. "Your presence was...enjoyable. I will make sure to feature you in some of my future work." The frilly woman then hopped through the side doors without another word.

"Doesn't she need permission to make artwork depicting living people?" inquired Mayumi.

"Eh, she'll probably just keep it for herself. Not every sketch is for sale," acknowledged Junpei with a wink.

Yusuke Kitagawa took the opportunity to bow deeply. "This little village was a truly marvelous place to stop: quenching my weariness from travel, yet inflaming my visions with a passion that could melt the top of Mount Fuji!" Turning towards Ren, he added, "if nothing else, I will have to return for the curry."

Amamiya rubbed at the back of his neck. "Eh, might be a tough order to fulfill; I'm just a visitor. But the guy who owns this cafe?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at Sojiro's restaurant. "He makes a pretty good curry as well...maybe even better than me."

Yusuke's eyes seemingly flashed with energy. "I see. Then I will have to sample its wares upon my inevitable return!"

("This guy is so extra," whispered Kensuke.)

("I think he's fine," replied Shinji.)

"Um...Kitagawa?" The man looked towards Mana, who seemed...hesitant. "...thanks for the picture."

The lanky man smiled warmly. "No thanks are necessary; the work itself is always gratitude enough for me." Looking at the other children, he said, "my apologies, but I don't have a particular piece ready for you...and none of my works on the bus's top deck are worthy of being gifts...but I will endeavor to create something! Until then: farewell." The eccentric artist then wandered onto the bus, already talking to himself. "But what color would it smell like...?"

("...he's quite the character," dryly said Misato.)

(Ryuji managed to muffle his snort. Barely.)

Mayumi looked quizzically at Mana. "What picture?"

"I'll show you later," she answered.

Kanji Tatsumi huffed, turning gray eyes towards the kids. "Whatever y'all have to deal with...well, can't really comment about it, 'cause it's kind of over my head. But keep your chins up, yeah?" Reaching into one of his pockets, Kanji pulled out the cedar figure he had been whittling at all day. "Here."

Shinji blinked as he impulsively caught it; it looked like a chibi version of...Unit-01? But the helm was raised so it showed his face? "Eh? How...?"

"That yakuza fight club video was actually pretty detailed, all things considerin'." (Because of course it kept coming back to that accursed fight club!) "If that's what these 'Evangelions' are, then I think they look pretty cool." Kanji stuffed his hands into his pockets, adding, "the stuff we wear, the way we act...they're all kind of like masks that we wear to hide ourselves. I think your Evangelion is another kind...but it's still you under it, right? So long as you're able to live with who you are, does it matter what mask you wear?"

Shinji wondered if Kanji understood just how close to the mark he was.

(From so very long ago...from his second trip to the Velvet Room...Igor had said many things. "...it will suffice to say that the Persona is a part of your personality that surfaces to handle certain events: a mask to protect you, a Shadow that devours the uncomfortable. Truly, your strength will grow if you come to accept it in its fullness.")

"That's rather profound, Tatsumi-san," remarked Mayumi.

"Just 'cause I'm not into the theory or philosophy like Yusuke or Chidori doesn't mean I can't be insightful and shit...er, ignore that last bit." Nervously scratching at his hair, Kanji decided to cut his losses. "Well...bye! Take care." He then hopped onto the bus, closing the doors behind him. Moments later, the double-decker's engine rumbled louder, and the wheels turned; slowly, it turned onto an adjacent road, making its way towards the highway that would take them southbound from Nishiawakura.

"And there goes the Emporium," said Junpei with a smile.

"...you know, all things considered, I guess they were pretty cool," admitted Toji.

Yeah, thought Shinji as he looked at the tiny wooden carving: himself, clad in the armor of Unit-01. I guess they were...

His Other took off his mask.

"Is it truly a mask that you can take on and off?"

The Beast raised its helm, revealing an empty void where a face should be.

"Or are you merely the mask, hiding the truth from the world...the truth that is ME?"

He clenched it loosely within his fist, wondering where the masks ended and 'Shinji Ikari' began.

xx

Ren Amamiya quickly retreated into the cafe once the bus was gone. I actually made it.

"So, has the peanut gallery left?"

Ren looked towards Sojiro, who was idly drying some cups with a cloth rag. "They seemed pretty nice."

"Having a double-decker parked beside my place is also a pain in the ass," he grumbled. "Also didn't appreciate the big guy trying to tell me how to do business."

"Eh, differences of opinion."

Sojiro harrumphed, idly watching as the crowd of his current 'tenants' began to make their way back to the ryokan. "At this rate, I figure I'll get another visitor before the end of the month. Would be just my luck."

"Hey, the Emporium wasn't that bad."

"They also weren't as lovely as the last gaggle of visitors that made a visit."

Ren arched an eyebrow, knowing that Sojiro was referring to the Featherman girls. "Dirty old man."

"I don't have to take any lip from you," he groused, putting his cups away. "They didn't come down here until they were leaving; I take it they had lunch at my house?"

"Hope you don't mind if I dug into your fridge for the ingredients to make curry."

Sojiro shook his head, pulling out a small wad of bills from his wallet. "So long as you go and shop for replacement supplies, I'll deal with it." Tossing the yen towards Ren, he added, "I'll expect the receipt and the change...and I'll know if you tried to stiff me."

Ren, not truly offended, put on a show; with hand to chest, he exclaimed, "moi? You would think of me as a mere thief?" (Oh, the irony.)

"Nah, just remembering what being a teenager can be like. Most would swipe a bill if they thought they could get away with it."

(Good thing you're far from a teenager.) "Then I'll just have to disappoint you." As he departed to make the walk to the nearest grocery store, he couldn't help but feel...proud, of himself. I think I handled the 'Surprise Yusuke' pretty well.

Hopefully the trend would continue.

xxxx

Idle chatter passed amongst the five teens and four adults as they made their way back to the ryokan.

The sight of Hirofumi Kurosawa sitting upon the front stairwell made them pause. "And where've you been?" asked Misato.

"On the phone. And giving you all some time. I doubt I would be a good fit amongst artistic types." Glancing towards Shinji and Mana, he added, "the ridgeline provides a pretty good view of Nishiawakura. If one desired, they could see things like a double-decker bus...or an impromptu spar between an Evangelion-user and an axe-wielder."

Shinji inwardly winced. Oh.

Junpei crossed his arms, glaring down his nose at Kurosawa. "And what about it?"

"Welcome back, Iori-san," said Kurosawa, ignoring Junpei's antagonism. "My superiors have been going over my reports with some...alacrity. The information went very far up the chain, to the point where officials from the National Public Safety Commission reached out to the Ministry of Justice and the Ministry of Defense." Looks of alarm went across the faces of Misato, Sakamoto, Iori, and Amada. "I see you understand how seriously they're taking this: notwithstanding the possibility of Angels having hidden hosts among humankind...but a potential third party with hostile intentions, if your testimony about the Ai Ferry is true? Given Strega, the UN's decision to essentially exile the Evangelion-users to Japan, and now the Annihilation of Korea...the government is antsier than ever. They want solutions."

"...annihilation?" dumbly repeated Toji.

"What happened to Korea?" asked Mayumi.

Kurosawa shot an ugly glare towards the other adults. "You still haven't told them?"

"Look, it's been a busy day," retorted Ryuji. "They would have found out eventually anyhow."

Scowling, Kurosawa sighed heavily before looking at the five children. "During the new moon, while you were battling the Angel, and while numerous Persona-users and A.T. Adepts were combatting victims of Angel Syndrome nationwide...the Korean Peninsula was subjected to a singular display of vengeful wrath. South Korea and North Korea were utterly sundered: nothing but a cognitive void remains of them in the Metaverse."

Kensuke's eyes went wide, drawing the conclusion rather quickly. "...how many...?"

"Millions of people died, that day. The people of Korea are gone. And the world could not care less, so long as the Angels' ire is not drawn towards them!" Kurosawa swiftly tamped down on his passion, stoically adding, "the government wants to pull out all the stops to protect ourselves from future threats...and to that end, they want to question you more thoroughly in person."

"Hey now-"

Ryuji's interruption was immediately cut down. "Enough. Sakamoto. Your animus against me is understandable, given our failed operation...but hindsight is cruel against everyone. The matter is settled: we're scheduled for a preliminary hearing at Tokyo-2 in two days, so we're leaving tomorrow." It was with an odd solemnity that he looked at the children and said, "your summer vacation is over; I suggest you get your affairs in order." With that said, he turned around and walked back into the house.

Misato, judging by her snarling expression, was not going to let it go. "Now wait just a damn minute!" Junpei was also quick to follow, prompting Ken to tag along if only to try and ease the tension.

This left Ryuji by Shinji, Kensuke, Toji, Mana, and Mayumi. "Well, this went to hell in a handbasket." Shooting them a weary grin, Sakamoto said, "we're probably gonna be talkin' for a while. So...try and keep your heads down." The quintet could only stare despondently as Ryuji hobbled up the stairs, following Misato's angry shouts.

After several seconds of staring in silence, Mana asked, "now what?"

xxxx

Shinji Ikari, balancing a tray full of cups (filled with coffee, tea, and bottles of water), quietly slid the door to his room open with his foot; Toji, Kensuke, Mana, and Mayumi were all sitting inside. The five had all tried passing the time in relative isolation, only to conclude that the tension in the air rendered such impossible. Texts over the group chat resulted in them deciding to gather in one room...which had defaulted to Shinji's, due to it not being a bare guest room.

"The adults still arguing?" asked Kensuke.

Shinji nodded, setting the tray down between them all.

"Seriously?" griped Toji. A piece of paper was face-down on the floor beside him. "What more could they go over?"

"A lot, apparently," muttered Mana, sipping from her coffee (flavored just the way she had come to prefer). She was hugging a piece of sketch paper against her torso, keeping it hidden from view; AIGIS and LABRYS were both resting on the bed. "It's been what, two hours? Three?"

"...but we've been through a lot, these past few weeks," admitted Mayumi.

"We've talked about it all already. What more is there?" asked Toji, taking a hearty swig from a bottled water.

Shinji leaned back on his hands, gathering his thoughts. "Misato-san and Iori-san are the most antagonistic...Kurosawa-san was staying pretty firm...Amada-san was trying to be the voice of reason...and Sakamoto-san wasn't really saying anything, beyond a comment here and there." (The man's good leg had been bouncing pretty heavily though; a sign of constrained frustration, perhaps.)

"Four on one, eh?" remarked Kensuke.

Sipping from her green tea, Mayumi said, "if nothing else, Kurosawa-san's convictions must be strong despite being the minority..."

There were several seconds of silence; Shinji, wanting to break through the awkwardness, said, "the Emporium were...pretty interesting."

"Yeah. You would have thought that Tatsumi-san had taken 'Cog Psi 101' with that little speech of his at the end." Kensuke adjusted his glasses, looking towards the desk where the wooden figurine of 'Evangelion Shinji-01' was standing. "Not like you'd need to take a college course to understand it, but it was a pretty good layman's approach to the concept of the Persona. Practically a near-perfect definition."

Shinji nodded, glancing at the papers that Toji and Mana had brought with them. "...what did they draw for you?"

Toji flipped his sketch over, setting in the middle of the group. "Iori-san's wife sketched me and him talkin'."

"...how did she know what Gilgamesh looks like?" asked Kensuke with wide eyes.

"Ya got me, Ken. Was kinda freaky."

Mana pushed hers forward as well, showcasing the charcoal sketch that Kitagawa had drawn. "All I had with me were AIGIS and LABRYS, and he drew...this."

Mayumi, having experienced the tale of Mana's story in a more intimate manner than the others, audibly inhaled at the sight. "Mana-san..."

"Even without color, he got the hair and size on the nose for Big Sis and Little Sis. And even though he didn't know about my brothers, he still drew the silhouettes that represented them...because he felt the picture was incomplete without 'em." Clenching her fist, she added, "just like me. Without them here...I'm...I'm not me."

Kensuke and Toji shared a glance before the former looked at Shinji. "...my talk with Hiraga-san got the gears going and the brain juices flowing. About this whole 'situation' of ours with regards to the nature of reality."

Shinji leaned forward. "Yes?"

"Even if everything is not as tangible as we once believed it to be...it's still 'real' to everyone involved. So I don't think we should obsess over it until we're in a position to 'fix' it...if we ever get that far, I mean."

Toji nodded. "Seems sensible to me. Makes me wonder though...about the people who die, I mean. Are they just waiting somewhere for a new life to begin? Or can they actually see everything that's going on?"

"I wouldn't know," murmured Shinji.

"A cycle of reincarnation, where everyone manifests as themselves in different contexts and scenarios." Mayumi fiddled with the ends of her hair, saying, "I...can't really remember my past lives, but they happened. Armisael's memory was a testament to that...and it must have been real in every way that mattered." For how else could the Angel have exhibited such existential anguish, over events that every other human had long forgotten? Would such agony have been professed over something which had not been real?

"...even if the thought of reality being imagined by everyone kind of sucks, it doesn't change how horrible my life was. One way or another, it was caused by people...just like it was people who pulled me out of it." Downing the last of her coffee, Mana conclusively said, "so...I'm going to stick through this to the end."

"Hell yeah," chorused Toji.

"...it's like the famous line from the Three Musketeers," said Mayumi with a confident nod. "Yes...'all for one and one for all.'"

"Wasn't that book adapted into an anime?" asked Kensuke.

"...yes, actually. How did you know?"

The bespectacled boy shrugged. "I figure every famous European novel gets one at some point."

Shinji, looking at them all, couldn't help the nervous smile that came to his face. "You guys..."

"We may not know as many details about what you're involved in," said Toji, holding his fist forward. "But it ain't the kind of crap you should be facin' alone. Couldn't even handle Tomochika's death by myself, you know?"

"Yeah," agreed Mana, holding her own fist forward as well.

Kensuke joined in the motion. "We were already in an existential crisis against the Angels...so what's one more?"

"...you may not have wanted to be put in this situation, but you are nonetheless." Shyly, Mayumi held her hand out as well. "But...I wasn't left alone during my trial...so you shouldn't be either..."

(What had he done to deserve them?)

(You don't. You don't deserve anything.)

"...thank you." Putting his hand forward, Shinji added, "no matter what happens...I'll do my best to protect you all, with this power I've been given..."

"Go Team Statherós?" joked Kensuke.

"...yeah," he said, agreeing with the sentiment behind it. "Go Team Statherós."

The quintet bumped their fists together, in a show of unity.

xx

A few minutes later, Shinji volunteered to take away the empty cups and used water bottles; as he slid the door closed behind him, a voice sounded out to his right. "You know, just because the adults are arguing in the entry hall doesn't mean you kids can talk super loudly."

Shinji managed not to jostle the tray he was carrying out of surprise; he glanced at the voice, seeing a familiar figure leaning against the wall. "Amamiya-senpai?"

"Just got back from getting groceries for Old Man Sakura," he quietly explained, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "That was some pretty heavy stuff."

"...yeah."

The two Wild Cards stared intently at each other, before the senior of the duo revealed, "so...I hear you introduced them all to a certain 'room'."

(How had he known?) "...yes."

"Pretty bold move, all things considering...but it looks like they're coming around to accepting it."

"I think so, too." It was strange, how they could speak in such low voices yet understand each other perfectly. "...they know that there were other Guests before me. They know that I know who they are...but they don't know your names, yet."

Ren smirked. "Probably won't take them long to connect the dots. I figure at least one of them already knows or suspects, and is just being quiet out of courtesy to you."

"Ah..." That was a fair point, he mused.

"...but you know, you can't win anything if you don't take any risks. That's true with all things, both big and small...and there's nothing quite like having a team at your back, is there?"

Shinji nodded. "Yeah..."

"When this whole summer vacation started...you had bonds of friendship, and confidants you could confide in...and they've gotten stronger. But you didn't have a 'team', in the sense of being bound by a unifying purpose...but it looks like you've got that now." When Shinji nodded, Ren pushed off the wall and patted his shoulder in a brotherly manner. "Good. That purpose can pull you through even if there are times where the bonds of friendship are strained. Keep hold of it: it may mean the difference between life and death, one of these days."

"...I'll try to remember that, senpai," said Shinji, now understanding just a bit more of what his predecessor had experienced...

xxxx

After a few games of cards to pass the time (in which Mana once again was the victor for most of the rounds, showing off her strangely selective luck), the members of Statherós realized that the arguing from the entry hall had faded out.

The reason revealed itself when Ren poked his head into the room, bearing a smarmy grin. "So...Old Man Sakura's back. He told everyone to cut it out and go to sleep."

"...wait, he pulled a patented 'grumpy old guy' maneuver?" asked Kensuke with wide eyes and a widening grin.

"It was mesmerizing."

"Did you record it?"

"No."

"Boo, lame."

Ren huffed, turning his nose away. "Well, it was such an elegant moment that I couldn't look away, not even to grab my phone."

"...well, if they're done arguing, I'm gonna hit the hay," said Toji, rising to his feet. "Good night y'all," he yawned.

Within a matter of minutes, Shinji was by himself. It had been...a rather eventful yet fulfilling day, in all respects. Yet there was still something else he could do.

Grabbing his SDAT and headphones, he laid back on his bed and began to play a little velvet tape...

xxxx

...and opened his eyes within the Velvet Room.

"You saw so many arts!" exclaimed Sokila, skipping around Shinji's chair with exaggerated motions. "I wonder what they could do with crayons? What'cha think? Huh? Huh?!"

"...they'd probably be pretty good at it," acknowledged Shinji, patting Sokila on the head. He looked around the auditorium, noticing the many ways in which it had changed since June: the open kitchen built into the walls to the right; Sokila's bed, in the left corner nearest the stage; scattered musical instruments; and now, the rear left corner was occupied by easels and canvases and painting supplies. Tellingly, Theodore was posing on his tiptoes (clearly under duress), whilst Elizabeth, Margaret, and Lavenza were attempting to paint him. "I'd thought you'd try painting."

"If it's not with crayons, I dun'wanna draw!" she answered, crossing her arms with a petulant harrumph.

"You'll never know what'll happen if you don't try it."

"...hmm..."

Looking towards the stage, Shinji rose to face the Velvet Room's master. "Mister Igor."

"Welcome back, young man." Peering down his nose, Igor seemed more pleased than usual. "In the face of a momentous truth, you seem to have come to a new resolve...how very pleasing! I do hope that you continue to maintain this resolve in the face of what's to come..."

Steeling his nerves, Shinji asked, "when we last met, you mentioned something about a 'new service'...?"

"Ah; a rather industrious turnaround!"

Shinji shrugged. "Well...after what me and the others talked about...it just feels like there's more at stake now. And I don't want to let them down..."

"I see...very well then." Snapping his fingers, Igor said, "Sokila: please fetch the Compendium."

""Kay!" Sokila hopped towards the stage, scrambling over the edge to rush backstage.

As she was obtaining the book, Igor saw fit to explain. "Previously, you've learned about Persona Fusions; next, Persona Apprenticeships." As he spoke, there was a triumphant roar to his right; Shinji looked leftward towards the onstage classroom, where Sobek performed a picture-perfect Terror Claw, much to the cheer of Nekomata. With the lesson learned, they vanished into azure flames. (Inwardly, he felt two presences settle into place.) "And now...it is time to consider additional ways of empowering not just yourself, but your comrades as well."

"How?"

"Even though they cannot wield multiple Personas, they can become empowered by them...through the power of Item Forging."

"Item Forging?"

As Sokila walked back onstage with Compendium in hand, Igor explained, "cognition is the supreme power within the Metaverse; your bonds come with power of their own, as well. It is only reasonable, then, that your cognition can empower those you are bonded with. But how to extend your power to others?" Opening the Compendium, Igor gestured with his left hand, as if beckoning forth a loyal servant; two cards floated out, bearing the images of Ippon-Datara and Bicorn. "Instead of fusing your Personas into a new facet of your very being...you are consolidating their power into a tangible and concrete form. By doing so, you can not only empower yourself in a more stable manner...but you can do so for your friends, as well." With a flick of his hands, the cards fell into two open slots in the floor, delving into the orange liquid. However, instead of being siphoned into the familiar glass tank, the viscous nectar was pumped into a blue kiln that emerged from between the pools. Once the pumping was complete, there was a flash of glorious fire from within; when the flames faded, the kiln parted like a clam, revealing a new item lying within. "A brief demonstration: a new weapon, to replace your trusty tool."

Shinji looked at the new tool with intrigue; a wooden staff bore a small metallic spade on top, whilst the bottom bore a blade shaped like a thick crescent. Grabbing it with his hands, he could feel a shift occur (a familiar and trusty shovel fell away; within his self-image, this new tool seamlessly took its place). "The Monk's Spade," he said, speaking with knowledge given from an unknown source. "This was forged from my Personas...?"

"Indeed! Though your Personas are always capable of being summoned from the Compendium, it comes with a price." Leaning forward, Igor said, "you have been rather judicious with your Personas, thus far...likewise with our services. However, there is only so much mental energy that can be spared in a given timeframe: the more you fuse with your Personas...the greater in power they are...the more you will exhaust yourself. With time, you will recover, of course...but be wise with how you partake of our services, lest you find yourself in a situation where you need greater power...and find yourself unable to claim it. Hm hm..."

Shinji nodded, buying the explanation for what it was: a warning. Looking towards Sokila, he asked, "I wonder...if it would be possible to fulfill her request?"

"Eh?" Sokila said with a blink. "But...I just made it this mornin'! You don't have to!"

"Maybe...but I want to. My friends and I have had...a pretty eventful day. It's only fair that you get to have something as well..."

The young girl impulsively hopped down to hug his side.

Igor chuckled, gesturing towards the Compendium. "Then ascend the stage, Mister Ikari, and see what you can fuse from your Compendium."

Shinji did so, standing in front of Igor's desk; he flipped through the pages of the thick book, seeing the cards representing the various Archetypes he had claimed as Personas. Hamlet had pride of place at the front of the book...but there were numerous gaps between his cards, signifying Archetypes that he had...missed? Ignored? (What determined the ranking and ordering?) Some of the gaps glowed, signifying that a particular Persona could be formed using ones he already possessed.

It was by this method that he stumbled across the gap for Neko Shogun. Well, this is certainly a 'warrior cat lord guy'...but how would he never get dizzy?

Working in reverse order, he found the Archetypes needed to create that Persona: an Anzu, a Sudama, and a Kodama. I don't have any of those...but can I fuse them...? More research of the Compendium revealed that he could, in fact, do so. I can create Kodama with Berith and Agathion...Sudama, from Matador and Jack Frost...but Anzu...I'd need to fuse either a Sui-Ki or an Oni or a Suzaku or a Kin-Ki...okay then. Thus began the laborious process: after fusing Kodama and Sudama, he found himself feeling somewhat more exhausted than before, such that his options for fusing were limited. The Compendium seemed tuned in to whatever his mental energy was at, because he realized that it would be 'cheapest' to use Shiki-Ouji and Makami to get an Oni, since those Archetypes were two of his 'active' Personas. "Summoning from the Compendium seems...more tiring."

"It represents the action of recalling a facet of your past self...and in reality, is it ever easy to remember the things we have put away? It is akin to trying to remember a piece of trivia from long ago, as compared to reciting knowledge learned for a test."

The metaphor was simple enough to understand. Thus did Shinji say farewell to Shiki-Ouji (the shikigami had been so useful...but had it become a crutch...?) and Makami (he hadn't really had a chance to use it in battle yet...but this was more important), fusing them into a crimson Oni. At last, after fusing Anzu from Oni and Matador (he seemed to have a lot of Personas that required Matador...), he had the trio needed: Kodama, Sudama, and Anzu.

This time, three pools were revealed: a card went into each one, reflecting the papery earth spirits of Kodama and Sudama, and the lion-headed bird that was Anzu. This time, instead of a kiln, a familiar glass tank emerged from the floor; with a great flash, the three streams of orange liquid coagulated and combined into an anthropomorphic black cat with cartoony green eyes; wearing the jade armor of a Chinese general, the new Persona carried two red flags bearing a feline's standard, while his left hand held a crimson fan. "I'm Neko Shogun. Your future shines brightly; let us take hold of this chaotic world!"

All throughout the process of fusing over and over, Sokila had watched with an enraptured expression; it was only when Neko Shogun emerged out of the cylindrical tank that she cheered, running around the Persona in circles. Sure enough, it followed her seamlessly! "Yay! A kitty man that won't go dizzy!"

Shinji (inwardly finding it somewhat odd that 'Null Dizzy' was a legitimate skill, but who was he to judge?) smiled wearily, yawning widely. "...I think I'm tired..."

"A very productive evening," remarked Igor, closing the Compendium. "Though it'll be at least a few days until you recover enough energy to partake of our services...why don't you rest?"

Shinji eyed Sokila's bed with a desire born from sheer physical weariness. "That...sounds...lovely..."

He fell asleep to the comforting sounds of a woman wailing...and, eventually, to the soft ministrations of Sokila messing with his hair...

xxxx

It was nighttime, within the physical world.

At the edge of the woods, a black tuxedo cat with blue eyes watched the household of Sojiro Sakura with some measure of sadness. "...things are starting to converge," mused Morgana. Looking up at the sky, he couldn't help but grimace; the metaphysical and cognitive currents were slowly drawing towards this location. "...I'm not gonna be able to hide it anymore..." He and his compatriots had expected this, to be sure...but he didn't have to like it. "I won't be able to help them as I am now..." How unfortunate. Joker...take care of yourself.

Without another word, the cat walked away, vanishing from sight.

xxxx

The One Who Sat Upon the Throne had been rather annoyed, to put it mildly.

"The destruction of the Koreas showed no other signs of tampering...did the Angels simply destroy them on a whim...?"

Turning back towards familiar territory, it was to their pleasure that the prior interference had faded, somewhat. Ambient cognitions could be seen and sensed...and oh, what they revealed...!

"...it's not just Ikari...but four of his companions...they bear the touch of those interlopers in blue...?!"

They did not possess the mark of the Wild Card...but they had somehow witnessed that mysterious dimension.

"An unusual play...an unusual gambit...what are you attempting...?"

If the interlopers were trying to change the playing field...then it was only fair to respond in kind.

"Minako, my dear...make your way back. It's time for another test."

xxxx

END OF 8/17/2015

xxxx

Author's Note: AW YEAH; ITS YA BOIS, YUSUKE AND KANJI! (Plus Keisuke Hiraga — the Fortune SL for the Male Persona 3 Protagonist — and Kyoka Ochimizu, the manager of Kanamin Kitchen from P4 Dancing.) In like manner: Hisano Kuroda is the Death SL from P4; Bunkichi and Mitsuko are the collective Hierophant SL from P3; anyone who's played P5 knows who Madarame is.

(Three guesses as to what Princess Plum and Gario are expies of. :V )

I enjoy writing Persona characters as older and wiser versions of themselves, because they all come off as so *cool*.

Anyhow: Shinji's Empathy grew from Rank 2 (Benevolent) to Rank 3 (Altruistic); Strength is now at Rank 5; and Judgement is now at Rank 3!

Also, Shinji's line about Matador being a common ingredient is no joke; of the 35 Personas he's obtained (34 if not counting Hamlet) thus far, 5 of them required Matador as a fusing ingredient. If we're just counting Personas that were directly fused instead of negotiated with, it's 5 out of 15, or 33%. (This Fiend is quite a busy one!)

Now...over two months in, and Shinji finally gets to upgrade his shovel. :V

But this brings to mind something I've always found a bit odd about the Persona Fusion system in P3/P4/P5: namely, the need to spend yen to fuse Personas from the Compendium, or those of a higher level. Like...how? WHY?

*at some point, Minato, Yu, and Ren all wondered what the Velvet Room used their money for*

So this brings to mind a specific 'currency' unique to the Velvet Room: call it Mental Energy (or Cognitive Coins or Psyche Power or what have you). The basic gist is that, since fusing Personas is essentially monkeying around with your own mind and cognition...there's only so much you can do at once before you tucker yourself out. As such, there is a limit to how many Personas you can fuse or itemize or summon from the Compendium during a given visit. This limit is tied to Shinji's level and total Social Link Score through some mathematical formula that I'd live to the game developers for balancing.

So starting out, you wouldn't be able to fuse a lot on any given day. As Shinji grows, so does the amount of Personas he's able to fuse; however, as the Personas grow more powerful, the more energy they take in order to utilize, so it's a means of achieving balance and keeping the player from breaking the game (by simply farming for money and just fusing whatever Personas they want). It also encourages players to go out on Metaverse missions to get new Personas via negotiation instead of using the Velvet Room.

Hypothetical Examples:

- When starting out, you could fuse a Bicorn and a Cait Sith...or you could opt to fuse Angel. But you can't pick 'em all.

- Further on, you could itemize two particular Personas and fuse Setanta...or you could instead fuse Unicorn, with no itemization getting done that day.

And so on.

One caveat to this system is that the longer you go between Velvet Room visits, the more 'Mental Energy' you build up that can be utilized for your next visit. This allows some level of 'resource management' to be introduced into your gameplay, because do you want to try and get one or two new Personas day after day, or do you want to conserve your Mental Energy so that you can get more accomplished in a single visit?

/this also explains
/why Shinji was able to fuse Orthrus, Fuu-Ki, Titan, Apsaras, Ippon-Datara, and Shiki-Ouji during the night of July 29
/because he literally hadn't done any Persona fusions in quite some time

Anyhow, I'm sure nothing bad will happen on August 18. :V