Why are we here?
Let's turn back the clock.
xxxx
Minato Arisato was at peace.
("The wind feels so nice...")
So to speak.
("This is my first time experiencing Spring.")
When he had obtained the answer to his great dilemma...his ultimate question...
("But, this season will eventually pass...")
...he hadn't considered that it would have been quite so literal.
("After fighting alongside you, and facing the world's end...I finally began to understand...what it means to live...")
But that was fine. Serving as the Great Seal to bind Nyx (to bind the harbinger of that power, which had been inside of him for so long, which had become a part of him) was not at all a bad way to go.
("...thinking for yourself...not running away...accepting the inevitable...")
Extending his soul to his old body - that stoic and lanky and constantly fatigued hunk of flesh, yet it had been a part of him, and he had met some amazing people, and done incredible things - had been exhausting. Tiresome.
("All things eventually come to an end...every living thing will one day disappear...")
For the sake of keeping a promise, he hadn't hesitated.
("Only by accepting this can one discover what they truly want...what the meaning of their life will be...")
Yet it kind of sucked, if he had to be honest. Being distantly aware of the pain his comrades - his friends - were experiencing was...unpleasant. (That one of them was also his special lady only twisted the knife deeper.)
("I understand now why I was so tormented by my lack of strength. Protecting others became more than just an order I had to obey.")
That they missed him so much was...heartening.
("I wanted to do it for my own reasons...I realized this once I decided to try and prevent the Fall.")
There was distant awareness of S.E.E.S. crossing time and space, witnessing the very moment he had sacrificed himself. He had inwardly cheered when they turned their weapons against Erebus: the manifestation of mankind's desire for death, that destructive and nihilistic malice.
("When I thought I might never see you again, something else became clear to me-what I wanted most.")
He honestly felt happy that they had decided to move on. It was a hard lesson, but one they had all earned: in the end, if you wanted to live, you had to move forward to face your dread, to burn it away...
("And so, I made up my mind. I decided that I would continue to protect you.")
...and so he would continue to endure. He would do his part, just as they would do theirs.
("I want to be your strength. I know I'm not the only one who can do this... but that's okay.")
A vague part of him recalled the sensation of his hand wiping away the impossible tears of a mechanical maiden.
("My life will be worth living if it's for this reason...")
The world was in good hands.
("Thank you...")
And so he continued to endure, his very consciousness fading away into the recesses of the Great Seal. Even in sleep, he would always keep Nyx at bay...he would always keep humanity away from that deathly deity...
At the far reaches of his consciousness, the image of Nyx's Avatar loomed large, amidst the darkness; its terrible power faded away, until only that face - that hollow, skull-like face - remained.
"HUMANITY DESIRED DEATH. YET IT FOUGHT BACK."
...odd. The voice was deeper - more Thunderous - than he remembered...
"THE INCONSISTENCY OF THE LILIM IS MADDENING."
The face contorted, slowly becoming more monstrous, more...pure.
"WE WILL HAVE TO FIND ANOTHER WAY."
With those words, the skull of Nyx's Avatar - yet that title felt so inappropriate now, incongruent with the thing that had spoken - faded away.
Minato continued to slumber, feeling his consciousness spread further. There were odd times - akin to spurts of a dream - where he was once more a child. It was nostalgic, oddly enough; seeing adults that had to be his parents, watching him grow. He hadn't thought about this sort of thing in...forever...
Forever...?
In those dreams, he continued to grow. He continued to live through life, in a strangely mundane and...realistic way...
Then, as if his life at Gekkoukan had never happened at all...his awareness ceased.
He continued living his life, nevermore dreaming of that odd little time where he had been a Great Seal upon a literal and metaphorical door between humanity and death. It had been an odd, fanciful thing...perhaps he could put it down on paper one day, make a good story about it?
Life continued on in much the same way.
However, as he entered his first year at high school (one of many in the Tokyo area), he paused at the sight of a young blonde gaijin with piercing blue eyes and a soft expression. "Ah, another new face," she calmly said. "My name is Ījisu Strassman. I'm the Class Representative, so please be sure to behave."
He impulsively wanted to correct her by saying 'no, your name is Aigis', but why did he want to say that?
Why...was he thinking of blue butterflies?
Like a door opening, it suddenly hit him, and he remembered.
It hadn't been a dream. It had been oh so very real...hadn't it?
Minato Arisato tried so very hard not to panic as class began. What's going on?!
xxxx
ANOTHER SIDE, ANOTHER STORY
TARTARUS
The Tale of Minato Arisato
xxxx
Days passed. Weeks. Months.
Minato endeavored to get close to Ījisu, to try and get to the bottom of whatever mystery he had found himself in.
("My opinion about robots?" Ījisu looked thoughtfully at the sky. "I think they are cool.")
For starters, he had apparently been born in early 1980s, and was now growing up through the 90s. It was only in retrospect how odd he had considered it, that no one had cell phones, and computer access was...less ubiquitous.
("I have heard stories from some of the richer students," said the Class Rep as they ate lunch together one day. "They are quite obsessed with showing off their new devices. It seems...unbecoming?")
Were it not for Ījisu's presence (Aigis, Aigis, her name had been Aigis), he might have gone insane from self-doubt and bewilderment.
Her origin wasn't too out of the ordinary: a German-American father and a Japanese mother, overseas work, with various sorts of mundane details that he honestly didn't care about.
("You seem very...distant," she remarked, during studies one day. "There is a strange sadness in your eyes.")
He had already gone through the second year of high school before, so the work had been simple. Easy. But how could he tell anyone that? Who would believe him?
As the years passed, he almost half-convinced himself that he had imagined the whole thing, having been the victim of an extraordinarily realistic hallucination as a child.
(Ījisu Arisato née Strassman quietly rubbed his hair as he shivered, having awoken in a cold sweat. "It's okay, my dear...I will protect you." And that made him want to scream, because she sounded JUST LIKE AIGIS HAD AND USED THOSE SAME WORDS.)
It was only with the advent of greater mass communication and Internet usage that he had managed to discover the names of at least a few of those names which haunted him so...and yet, their fates only drove him to further confusion.
Akihiko Sanada: a daring naval Captain during World War II who had been killed in action in the Pacific.
Mitsuru Sanada née Kirijo: a philanthropist who had founded a number of mental health clinics in the aftermath of the war. She had passed away from natural causes shortly before he had been 'born'.
Junpei Iori and Yukari Iori née Takeba: an iconic couple in the entertainment business that had hosted a number of talk shows and game shows spanning from the 50s through the 70s. They had long since peacefully retired.
Ken Amada: a star Olympic athlete; he was merely a few years older than him (and that was such a bizarre thing to think about).
Andre Laurent Jean Geraux (his good friend Bebe): the current French ambassador to Japan.
Chihiro Geraux née Fushimi: the wife of said French ambassador.
The others, he had been less successful at finding any information about. How many of them were simply too low-profile for there to be any public records for? How many had long since passed away? Were there any that had yet to be born?
It didn't make sense. None of it made sense.
("...you must learn to let go," whispered Ījisu, placing his hand upon her extended belly, bearing the fullness of new life. "Whatever this dream is that's plagued you since childhood...this is what matters now. This is what we need to focus on.")
So he did, to an absurdly intense degree. Throwing himself into his work - to provide! - and into being a father - to raise children?! - had been a means of release, of distracting him from the niggling sensation in the back of his head that this is wrong, this shouldn't be, what happened to my world, take me BACK, I WANT TO GO BACK!
He liked to think that he was successful.
Then 2015 rolled around, and a horde of sentient crystals had begun attacking various spots around the world. Lasers danced throughout the sky, as the militaries of the world fought back.
It was so bizarre that it had been a welcome change of pace. Part of him desired a gun (and raise the Evoker to his head, bring forth the power within stop it stop it Evokers aren't real DOING THAT WOULD KILL YOU), but he settled for a baseball bat.
A blue beast formed from rigid crystal pushed through the door of his house, screaming a haunting melody. The bat cracked against the faceless head, yet its laser still fired into the foundation. The whole structure came down around him and his family.
He felt it a mercy that his son and daughter were crushed instantly.
He instead had to endure the sight of his wife (the one constant he had managed to find, even if she didn't remember, even if she wasn't mechanical, there was that core of her soul that remained which served as a soothing balm, and now she was dying!) bleed out from a beam through her gut. Despite the shock on her face, her eyes were still on him. "I'm...sorry..." She squeaked from pain (don't make that sound don't make that sound!), struggling to reach her dainty hand towards his face. "...I..."
("You have imagined me with...finger guns?" Ījisu blinked with bewilderment, before chuckling at the thought. "A very interesting image.")
He watched the life leave her eyes before her hand could reach him.
As horrible a thought as it was, part of him felt a sense of relief. I've had a good life. I...managed to endure...
And then he woke up, blinking oddly. He was breathing hard; his chest felt pained. Huh. What a dream. Blinking, he brushed at his face, feeling wet tracks on his cheeks. Was I actually crying?
"Makoto-kun!" called out the distant voice of his mother from downstairs. "Breakfast is ready!"
"Coming," he called out, feeling oddly out of sorts. The eight-year old Makoto Yuki rubbed at his eyes, doing his best to remove all traces of tears before heading down for breakfast. Yet...he couldn't quite shake this sensation...
"Mama," he muttered, sipping at his soup. "Do you know anyone named Ījisu...or Aigis...?"
"...those are some interesting names," she remarked with a curious blink. "Where'd you hear them?"
"...a dream, I think?"
"Sounds like a very interesting dream, Makoto-kun. What else happened?"
"...not sure...do we know anyone named Minato Arisato?"
"I don't think so."
"...guess it was just a dream." As he continued eating breakfast, part of him wondered whether that was true.
Makoto Yuki continued to grow, putting little thought into that odd dream.
But some part of him...ached. He wasn't quite sure why.
But that dream faded into memory, inevitably forgotten: mere echoes, of something...greater.
Alas, there was little time to devote to such idle thinking. As the only child of a single mother, he had to do a lot to help out around the house. Daydreaming was for kids...and he most certainly wasn't a kid.
His mother had often joked how he acted like someone with an old soul.
(Oh, how little did they know about the truth of that statement.)
It wasn't until he was entering his first year of junior high school that the dreadful verse began to rhyme.
Why does she seem so familiar? wondered Makoto, sitting beside a girl with short, light brown hair; the way that the locks curled forward around the nape was...familiar. But why?
The girl narrowed her dark eyes, staring at him with suspicion. "Is there a reason you're staring?"
"...sorry. You just look familiar," he quietly admitted. "Someone I used to know..." Used to know?
The girl snorted. "Were they named Isako Toriumi?"
"...no?" Wait.
"Then why do you keep staring?"
Before Makoto (no that's not my name) could ponder this any further, their homeroom teacher walked in, with short, teal-blue hair (wait) and grayish-brown eyes (WAIT) looking calmly at them. Adjusting the collar of her conservative turtleneck sweater, she spoke aloud. "Good morning class!"
Thoughts of blue butterflies and the opening of a door.
"My name is Fuuka Yamagishi-"
He abruptly stood up and walked out of the room, deaf to the confused murmurs of his fellow students and the surprised questioning from his homeroom teacher (not my homeroom teacher it's supposed to be Ms. Toriumi and Fuuka's supposed to be a PEER and a COMRADE). With purposeful strides, he made his way for the nearest stairway; taking short steps (he used to have longer legs than this he had lived THROUGH this before!), he soon found himself on the rooftop, staring quietly at the sky. What's happening to me? A whole life with Ījisu (AIGIS), with two children of their own: gone. But it was a mere ember compared to the bonfire of the life before that (enduring an all-too short year of high school, filled with Shadows and Personas and death but oh so much life): also gone. Like a switch had been flipped, he had become aware of so much more. But why? What had happened? Why was he living through different times and different lives? Was this...a part of the Great Seal? Was he simply hallucinating different lives? Was it all a dream?
He had no way of knowing.
But I'm going to find out.
Returning to class, he apologized for the sudden departure, casually making up a lie about suffering from a panic attack. (What use did he have for public reputation? He had already gone through junior high twice.) Yamagishi-sensei (have to get used to not thinking of her as just Fuuka) seemed to accept his excuse, advising him to meet with the school counselor Keisuke Hiraga (what a fitting profession, he didn't say aloud) if the issue persisted.
The school year progressed. He didn't try to get close to Toriumi-san (no matter how tempted he was to see if she responded to 'Maya'), nor to Yamagishi-sensei (he almost gave in to his desire to ask about her cooking skills). In the meantime, he tried not to be too obvious about his attempts to find out where the others were...if they were alive at all. There had to be a common thread. A common connection.
(Deep down, he just didn't want to get close to Toriumi or Yamagishi or Hiraga, for fear of it all going to waste again.)
When September the 13th of the year 2000 rolled around, Makoto thought of it as just another Wednesday.
By the end of that day, all hell had broken loose: immense earthquakes followed by ravenous tsunamis had devastated the Southern Hemisphere. The cancellation of classes for the rest of the week had seemed like a minor inconvenience by comparison.
His mother was concerned, wondering if they should leave the outskirts of Tokyo and head inland; news of nuclear war breaking out between India and Pakistan on the 15th had convinced her not to move too far away from the protective reach of the national government. That said officials were preoccupied with the flooding that had already ravaged the shores of Japan was conveniently ignored, but he couldn't fault his mother for that decision.
(In retrospect, he was still marveling at the novelty of having a mother, after having lost his so early on in his...'first' life. HOW WAS THIS REAL?!)
Personally, he was racking his brain about where this divergence had come from, because he sure couldn't remember anything about a 'Second Impact' (as they were referring to it on the news) ever occurring in Antarctica.
He was trying to decide whether or not he should try and unveil more about himself to Toriumi or Yamagishi (because what else can I do right now? Run away? The world feels like it's about to end) when the world made his choice for him.
On the 20th of September, he barely had several seconds to scream - from the blindingly bright flash and the vague silhouette of a mushroom cloud over Tokyo's skyline - before a pressure wave smashed into him-
Gasping heavily, Minato Arisato - twenty-one years of age - sat up, his brow beading with sweat. Just a nightmare...just a nightmare...
The young man barely had a chance to gather himself before the concerned voice of a fellow orphan whispered from the darkness. "Hey," said Ryoji Kaji, briefly flashing a cigarette lighter to illuminate his face. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just...a nightmare of Second Impact." One that had felt so real...
"Eh, we all have em'," remarked the younger teen. The forests of Nagano Prefecture seemed oppressively quiet at this time of night, as though it could swallow them up at a moment's notice. "Want me to take your shift of the night watch?"
"No...don't think I'll be able to sleep now anyway..."
"Just thought I'd offer." With a cheeky grin, he snuffed out his lighter. "Try to get out your jitters before sunrise. We have a big target to hit in a few hours."
"Yeah..." The life of being part of a gang of looters in a Post-Impact world...yet, his nightmare had felt so very strange. I grew up in Sapporo, not Tokyo...but it felt like I was there.
(It didn't make sense. Something didn't make sense, but what?!)
He didn't have much longer to think about it: in the darkness before sunrise, he - along with Kaji and a few of their other stealthier members - snuck into the local JSDF supply depot to replenish their stores of food and water. By the time daylight was upon them, they had made it back safe and sound with their stolen wares...except for Kaji.
Before they could make a determination about what to do - had Kaji gotten captured? Had he gotten killed? Had he taken a long route to evade military patrols? - their hideout in the woods was stormed by soldiers, firing their weapons with ruthless efficiency.
Minato - bleeding from a crippling bullet wound in the leg, numb from shock as he tried crawling along the forest floor - barely felt it as he was kicked in the side. The soldier wanted him to see his end coming.
"Worthless, bottom-feeding thieves," spat the soldier. "Die knowing that your punk of a 'comrade' sold you out. Such is the code of honor among thieves."
Minato stared stoically at the barrel of the rifle. An idle part of him was vaguely amused (you've been betrayed before, this is nothing; why did he feel so damn CALM?!) by this turn of events.
Then a bullet slammed into his brain-
Blinking, Minato Arisato - a mere child of five years - awoke with a frightful shout, screaming about an awful nightmare about things that children had no business dreaming of.
(WHAT'S GOING ON?! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING!?)
xxxx
The pattern had been established: Minato Arisato (sometimes Makoto Yuki, occasionally Sakuya Shiomi, rarely something else entirely) would arise from sleep, awakening from a dream that seemed all too real. The time he would awaken...varied. Usually as an adolescent, rarely as an adult. He would go on through life (a life that always seemed to vary; sometimes he was an orphan, sometimes he had one parent, sometimes he had both, and his temporal circumstances ranged from relatively well-off to destitute), until one day...he would encounter someone he used to know (from what he now considered his original life, the one that mattered, the one with bonds where he had stopped Death itself), and the memories would flood in with a torrent. Then would begin the panicked reconciliation of his entire worldview (because every single time, the person he had been might as well have ceased to exist, supplanted by someone who had lived far too long and far too many times), as he resolved to try and find out what was behind this change.
Sometimes, he tried to form relationships with the people he used to know. (He ignored the feeling of having a player's guide to their interactions; even if their ages and circumstances differed, there was a core that always remained the same. The fact that core existed...kept him sane yet drove him crazy. Sometimes at the same time.) Other times, he tried to stay away.
Every single time, he got no closer to solving the mystery of his dilemma until something apocalyptic arose. (There was a disturbingly common trend involving giant mecha known as 'Evangelion' and monstrous creatures called 'Angels', who looked nothing like the angelic Personas he used to wield with ease.)
Then, when he inevitably perished, the cycle would begin anew. (There had been one relatively memorable time where the horned mecha - the one that looked like a violet oni - was slammed into his apartment building by an Angel, at which point it had collapsed on top of him.)
He lost count of how many times this had repeated itself. Easily in the triple digits.
Then...there was one time that was different.
He 'awoke' as a second-year high school student at Hoshikan, bearing the Makoto Yuki name. It was encountering Mamoru Hayase (that lovable athlete who tried too hard and cared too much) that did it.
Hoshikan had been Gekkoukan's rival school.
Even the year was the same: 2009.
As soon as he could find the time to do so, he arranged a chance to surreptitiously look around Tatsumi Port Island, keeping an eye out for any familiar faces at their old hangouts (and they were truly old to him; how many combined decades - centuries - had it been since he had last been here? That it still remained so fresh in his mind compared to all of his other lives was either a blessing or a curse. He hadn't decided which, yet.)
Eventually, he found himself waiting near the entrance of Gekkoukan, keeping a surreptitious eye out.
Then...one day, Junpei Iori, Akihiko Sanada, and Yukari Takeba were leaving...alongside someone else.
Someone he had never met before.
A girl, with red eyes, and auburn hair tied into a high ponytail with silver barrettes; outgoing and bubbly (yet with a strange distance that was all too obvious to his experienced eyes; was it a mask? A 'persona' to help her fit in?), she occupied the position in S.E.E.S. that had once been his. Yet...somewhere, deep within, he recognized the power within her soul. A Wild Card? How?
He overheard Junpei yell her name too (that lovable oaf; he missed that strangely down-to-earth energy): Minako Arisato.
For all the lives he had experienced, the feeling of actually being 'replaced' was new.
He wasn't sure how to feel about it.
As they split up to pursue their own activities for the day, he decided to follow the girl. (After so many lives, evading notice was...almost simplistic. Sometimes, he didn't mind having the rough equivalent of cheat codes.)
He trailed her to Paulownia Mall (good old place, it was practically unchanged), where she entered a familiar hallway at the very end (and from here, he could see the glow of a familiar door, finally a proverbial light at the end of the tunnel). He waited by the far left fountain near Club Escapade (why did this particular event seem so familiar?), until the female Wild Card emerged...with a Velvet Room Attendant. Not Elizabeth though; rather a man, with similarly colored hair and eyes. Another change?
Events progressed much the same as had 'his' date with Elizabeth, so very long ago.
When the Attendant - named 'Theo', judging by the girl's words - approached the fountain he sat it, Makoto (only out of protest, he would always be Minato) latched onto the man's wrist before he could plunge his hand into the water.
The very action seemed to shock Theo. "Pardon me?" he asked, with a cultured accent.
"...do you know anyone named Elizabeth?"
The name caused his eyes to widen (yes) and his jaw to snap shut (RECOGNITION). "How do you know my sister-?"
For the first time in a long time, he finally felt a semblance of hope.
xxxx
"Hmm...an interloper. We can't have that."
xxxx
Then, without warning, the Lost - those poor souls, reduced to shambling wrecks by the Shadows of the Dark Hour - within Paulownia Mall arose, moving with speed that belied their decrepit state.
He could only react with stunned shock as a veritable mob of the Lost brushed the girl - "What the-?!" - and Theo - "Wait, something's wrong-!" - aside, smashing into him and pressing him into the fountain. If it wasn't their fists messily slamming into him, it was the fact that he was breathing in water he couldn't breathe HE COULDN'T BREATHE-
(Huh. Haven't drowned before, he idly thought deep down.)
xxxx
By the time Theo had subdued the Lost (with speed and precision that honestly stunned his Guest, judging by her expression), it was too late; the strange boy had drowned within the fountain.
"What...what just happened...?" murmured Minako Arisato; the bystanders around them were shocked, numbly obeying the commands of Officer Kurosawa as he called for backup and medical personnel.
"...I'm not sure," answered Theo, eyes narrow with concern and not undue suspicion. My Master must be made aware of this.
The boy had known Elizabeth...his sister. But that was impossible...unless one of very few circumstances were true.
...who were you?
xxxx
Minato Arisato awoke in a strange void. This is new.
In the distance, he could see a vague silhouette, sitting upon a grand chair. Details were obscured by the ambient light; he couldn't determine their height, their sex, or if they were even human.
The One who Sat Upon the Throne stared at him.
"An interesting soul, you have...but irrelevant, at this current stage."
Interesting? Irrelevant? "Do you know what's happening to me?" Furious emotions arose before he could stamp down on them. "ARE YOU RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS?! ANSWER ME!"
They thoughtfully hummed to themselves.
"Hmm...I will have to keep you in mind. But I can't have you interrupting."
They waved their hand.
"Begone."
"WAIT-!"
xxxx
Sakuya Shiomi awoke with a startled shout. What...what an awful dream...
The details were already escaping him, but it had felt so real.
I have to clear my head, he thought to himself; slowly, he arose from his bedding, putting on some simple clothing to enjoy a morning walk through the streets of Hiroshima.
It was August 6, 1945.
He did not survive the detonation of the first atomic bomb ever used in wartime.
(In retrospect, Minato couldn't help but conclude that this particular life had been chosen out of naught but sheer pettiness.)
xxxx
Thus, the long slog continued for Minato Arisato.
Without end.
Without hope.
xxxx
What shall I write about today?
I have recounted so much, that it would seem pointless to do so again.
I write these words, in this tattered journal.
My temperament has changed, over these very long years.
It was a curious thing; I distinctly recall the moment it all changed: it was a cold afternoon. Over the radio, I listened as the nation's first female Prime Minister was elected: a shocking turn of events for post-war Japan. As a mere child below the age of majority, I had paid little attention to politics...thus, that how was I learned of "her." Through sheer dominating will and force of personality, Mitsuru Kirijo achieved victory.
Then, the deluge.
Hundreds of lives returned, in a chaotic mishmash that nearly drove me insane.
It was why I decided to become a hermit: a proverbial monk, living off of the wild land and the alms of strangers. What better place, to lose myself in these memories?
How many loves? How many families? How many experiences? Enough to satisfy anyone; enough that their loss would terrify.
Writing them down is the only way I've found to make sense of it all. My last life; two lives ago; ten lives ago; seventy lives ago; on and on...until I reach the "original", if such a term even makes sense: a life where everything consummated in one glorious and heartbreaking year.
I don't know if I'm still within the Great Seal.
I don't know...I don't know.
I just don't know.
I imagine that when I die, I will wake up in another body, in another time.
If I am damned to never obtain answers...then I shall endure for as long as I can.
Endure...endure...that is all I can do.
My friends, my comrades...my loved ones...it seems that they are incapable of doing so.
But even if they have forgotten...I will ensure, for good or ill, that I will never forget.
- Minato, in the year 2016. Or 2015. Maybe 2017? I forget.
xxxx
An aged and wizened man in tattered robes emerged from his ramshackle hut; staring at the blue sky with squinted eyes, Minato Arisato quietly moved with aching limbs, holding gingerly onto an ancient shamisen. Sitting near the edge of a ridge, he overlooked the mountains of the Chūbu region, strumming mindlessly at the strings. Perhaps he would go about and beg today, if the mood struck; maybe he could descend to the nearest village and play for the entertainment of total strangers.
There was a certain serenity to merely existing, detached from all concerns.
Alas, fate would not be satisfied with this.
"Oh my..."
That foreign yet familiar voice prompted Minato to pluck harder than normal, ruining one of the strings. That voice...?
"...what fate has befallen my precious Guest?"
Looking over his shoulder, Minato stared at the unforgettable woman, clad in blue with silvery hair and yellow eyes. "...Elizabeth?"
The woman, one arm wrapped around the ever present Persona compendium (how long has it been since I've had reason to think of PERSONAS?), slowly stepped forward, kneeling down towards him. "...you've come a long way. Left adrift in a chaotic sea, with no control over time and space...and yet, your bonds remain. Despite everything...you have retained your bonds, which slowly drew you back towards us..." She gently cupped his cheek with her free hand, a melancholy look crossing her face. "What hideous strength."
"...am I dreaming...?" He didn't dare hope. He couldn't.
The woman chuckled in her own inimitable way. "This is most certainly not a bream...brie...? Cheese? Photography? Something like that. A shame that my brother Theo could not give me better directions."
"...what's happening...?" He dared not launch into any diatribes, nor make any accusations; this was not the time to indulge in such weakness. "Why is this happening to me...?"
"...the extent of what I can disclose is limited, for the time being...but I can tell you a little." And so she spoke...for an hour.
By the end of it all...Minato was so very bewildered by the state of the world. Yet, for the first time in what felt like forever, he had clarity. "...I see. So...it will soon end?"
"The next life is when all the cards shall be placed on the proverbial table: everyone will be playing their hands."
"...then I suppose I should stop moping then." Minato sighed, wincing at the pain in his chest. He had been having difficulties breathing as of late. "This was a relatively peaceful life..."
"Peace has been a term I've never associated with you, my dearest Guest." Elizabeth slowly knelt down in front of him, her youthful cheeks dimpling. "How strange...even though your flesh is decrepit and ravaged by the passage of years, your soul still burns as brightly as those lovely days in Tatsumi Port Island..."
"...I am an old man, Elizabeth. Such physical affection is a young man's game." He quietly sat forward, intimately pressing his wrinkled forehead against her own. "But...I would not be opposed to you sitting by my side, for at least a little while."
"...I can do that."
Thus did the old hermit and the even older Attendant sit in silence, watching as the clouds rolled by. The sun began its inevitable descent.
Minato felt at peace. "...Elizabeth."
"Yes?"
"...am I a coward?" For not fighting, life after life; for allowing his pain to bind him, to keep him from pursuing his bonds; for living as one who was dead, instead of dying as one who lived.
"That is an answer you can only answer for yourself, my dear Guest...oh my, that sounds quite redundant!"
Minato chuckled bitterly. "No pain, no gain...sounds about right..." He was feeling so very tired. "...I don't want to forget again..."
"...that is something I cannot help you with."
"...then will you stay until the end?"
"But of course. Could I ever deny you?"
The sun continued to set. As it dipped below the horizon, the old man's eyes finally closed; they would never open again.
Elizabeth quietly kissed his temple. "Sleep well, my most precious Guest-"
Frowning, Minato Arisato sat up. Ah. Fell asleep again. Homeroom for his first year at Hakone Academy's Junior High Branch was about to start. What an odd dream though...
Classes continued on relatively normally; the recent new moon had coincided with a large number of Angel Syndrome incidents, so everyone was being rather...fidgety.
But still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something...important had happened. Or would happen.
He would find out on the full moon of April 18, 2011; on the way back to his dorm, a young girl with pale blue hair and crimson eyes interrupted his progress. "Arisato-san," she quietly said.
"...can I help you?"
"...it is time, Conqueror of Tartarus, Vanquisher of the Dark Hour."
Like lightning, memories rushed back with surprising ferocity. Only experience, and the realization about why he was living over and over again, prevented him from collapsing. "...ah. Elizabeth told me about you."
"I can only afford you a little time. You must coordinate with your...equals."
"...then lead the way."
He quietly followed the tiny girl (but not a girl, she's so much more than that), eventually entering an alleyway outside of the Hakone Academy grounds; with a sudden shifting of reality, he found himself walking down endless stairs, leading to a singular arena in the midst of a gray and orange void. As he set foot into the odd expanse, he witnessed two others walking in, also being led by blue-haired girls with red eyes (okay, this is kind of weird).
One was a tall (man, what does he eat?) boy with a silvery bowl cut (who somehow made it work; HOW?!) and piercing eyes of gray.
The other was a boy (still taller than me, seriously?) with an unkempt mop of black hair and eyeglasses.
"Do try to be quick," said the three girls in unison, seamlessly combining into one spectral Rei Ayanami. "I can only keep this location active for a short time. Talk about whatever you must." And with that, she vanished.
Minato Arisato looked at the other two in silence, pondering the words that Elizabeth had spoken in another life (quite literally). So...these are the other two Wild Cards. "The name's Minato Arisato."
"...Yu Narukami," cautiously said Silver Hair.
"Akira Kurusu." The other boy winced. "Sorry, Ren Amamiya. Damn it, you'd think I'd have learned by now..."
Minato chuckled. What a nostalgic problem to have. "What a pain, right?" Placing his hands into his pockets, the former field leader of S.E.E.S. asked, "so...what's your story?"
xxxx
ANOTHER SIDE, ANOTHER STORY
TARTARUS
The Tale of Minato Arisato
END
xxxx
Author's Note: So, this was something completely different. All chapters labelled "Sidestory" are canon; however, since they are separate from the main plot, they will be standalone chapters.
Aigis's alternate timeline name "Ījisu Strassman" is sourced from how Japanese would pronounce "Aegis", while Strassman is the surname of Aigis's English VA.
Next chapter will be back in the main plot.
Merry Christmas! See you in 2021.