Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

First was the unease. The vague sense that the train was moving just a little too fast, the floor beneath his feet just a little too unsteady, the tug in his stomach just a little too strong. He shifted on his feet and tried to ignore the feeling of speeding up, even beyond what he was used to with his frequent train trips. 

Next was the screeching. It started small at first, a faint hissing beneath the floor, but grew, louder and louder, higher in pitch and intensity, until it was ringing in his ears, like the harsh, grating noise of metal against metal. 

No, not like. Was. 

The train lurched. Screams erupted around him. He seized a chair, a hand rest, anything to keep him on his feet. His stomach leapt to his throat. Something was wrong. Not even a minute into Tokyo, and now this—What was going on? 

He swallowed a scream, his heart pounding in his ears, mixing with the cacophony and chaos around him. Think, think. What could he do? Why was the train going so fast? The conductor? A mechanical problem? Whatever it was, could he really just stand here and wait for whatever was coming—? 

The front of the car flipped up. Metal shrieked and bent. 

He was thrown off his feet, hands wrenched from their grips. Jagged blades came down on him, and then— 

Searing pain. 

Sunlight burned his eyes. He squeezed them shut and waited for the glare to dim before cracking them open again. 

He was at a train station. A Tokyo train station—with the massive glut of people, it couldn’t have been anywhere but Tokyo. But… how did he get here? The last thing he remembered was— 

The blades came down on him like a guillotine, and then the pain, the pain, it blazed in his chest, spreading to the rest of his body, and it hurt so much— 

He gasped and raised a hand to grip his chest. 

His hand was transparent. 

He stared at it for a long moment, face going blank with surprise. This was… not impossible, actually, not with Personas and Shadows and going into TVs, but still highly unexpected. 

I’m transparent. Bile rose in his throat. He knew what this likely meant. I’m dead? 

It made sense. With his last memories being the lurch of the train and the excruciating pain, it was the only logical conclusion. Especially since he wasn’t currently in a hospital recovering from injuries the crash should have given him. 

Still, dead… 

He took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heartbeat. Focus on the facts. The train had crashed, and he had somehow ended up here. What else did he know? What else could he find out? 

“Excuse me?” he called out. No one responded. He waved a hand in front of a passerby, and the passerby walked past—walked through it—without a single glance or twitch in his expression. 

He exhaled. Invisible, intangible, and probably inaudible. 

He took a step forward and paused. He… couldn’t feel the ground below him. There was a phantom sensation of pressure, but it wasn’t complete, not quite like how it was when he was still… well. 

He kneeled and pressed a hand against the floor. After a moment, he pushed harder. 

His hand passed through the floor with a weightless, floaty sensation. It was comparable to sliding into a TV screen, but… not quite. Almost, but not quite. 

He had a feeling that would apply to a lot of things in his new… continued existence. 

He shook his head and straightened. So, he would likely be unable to interact with any objects or the world around him. 

He… couldn’t interact with the world around him. He couldn’t call his friends; he couldn’t even see them because they were all left in Inaba, and he couldn’t travel to Inaba because he was—he was— 

He was dead. 

The thought struck him like a physical blow, almost bowling him over and bringing him to his knees. He was never going back to Inaba. Oh sure, even though he couldn’t board a train, he could theoretically walk—or float—all the way there. He had the time now. But it wouldn’t be the same. He would never go fishing at the Samegawa. He would never pet the cat in the street in front of the house. He would never visit the shrine to pray or draw a fortune. He would never go to Aiya’s, or try the Rainy Day Special. He would never spend time with his Social Links, asking them about their lives and catching up with them.

He would never speak with his friends again. 

Oh god, his friends. How were they going to react when they found out? Yosuke was the last person he texted—heck, the last person he’d talked to. What had he even said? What had been… his last words? 

And what about Dojima? What about Nanako? She had already lost her mother; she was going to be devastated. And he couldn’t even comfort her, not anymore, not when she couldn’t feel him or see him or hear him. No one could. 

He was alone. 

He was alone. 

He staggered, his legs giving out from under him. His body—he didn’t have a real body, he was a ghost, he was dead—drifted aimlessly in the air. 

He felt light. He felt faint. He felt like he was floating only because there was nothing left to anchor him. Gravity couldn’t ground him. No force on earth could even touch him. 

Because he was dead. Because he was— 

He shook his head sharply, violently. He needed to stop thinking about this. He needed to stop thinking. He needed, he needed— 

A distraction, he thought, between one pounding echo of a heartbeat and another. I need a distraction. He scanned his surroundings, forcing his eyes to focus, trying to keep his attention from drawing back into his mind. 

An older teen strode across the platform, brown hair styled carefully to frame his face. His bangs brushed over his eyes, but couldn’t quite hide the sharpness in them. In his hands, covered in gloves a solid black, he clutched a phone. 

After some thought, Yu trailed after him. 

He didn’t know why. Maybe it was the way the teen eyed his phone, the carefully manufactured look on his face, the artificially relaxed body. Maybe it was something else: the draw of a new mystery, or some other unexplainable pull. Whatever it was, he drew close enough to catch sight of the red app with the creepy eye. 

It should have been nothing. On the surface, it was just an app—a strange-looking app, but still an app. It shouldn’t have piqued his interest or sent a strange jolt down his spine or made a familiar presence stir in the back of his mind, but that eye… 

It reminded him of Ameno-sagiri. 

He could never forget it. The giant, mechanical eyeball towering above them, the pupil angled down towards them. How the red haze of Magatsu Inaba had turned into the sickening yellow of the fog. 

Almost without any conscious input, his feet carried him after the teen. Once he realized, he ducked and weaved between people so he wouldn’t be spotted. The people didn’t pay him any mind, even when his arm clipped through someone. 

Oh, wait. He was… 

He boxed up the thought neatly, then shoved it in a corner. He couldn’t be seen, and he couldn’t be heard either. That was all that was important. 

He followed directly after the teen, cutting a straight path through—sometimes literally—the crowds. He still kept a few paces back; he didn’t want to literally be on top of the teen, or hover over him like some kind of stalker. 

Why was he following him? It was just a suspicious app. An app that reminded him of his adventures with the TV World, yes, but still just an app. Otherwise, the teen was seemingly normal, any notable features or tells explained away as personal quirks. And the fact that the app reminded him of Ameno-sagiri, of the TV World, could simply be a strange coincidence. 

Still, he was curious. Why did this app remind him of that? 

Well. It wasn’t as if there was anything better for him to do. And he was the leader of the Investigation Team. His friends… they wouldn’t let go of a mystery like this. He had to do them proud. 

He wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery. If that meant following the teen around like some sort of—heh—ghost, then that was what he’d do. 

He opened his eyes. 

That wasn’t supposed to be possible. 

He was in a crowded, bustling city. Sunlight blazed down, gleaming off the buildings and searing his eyes. People stepped past him, stepped through him, like he wasn’t really there. 

He brought his hands to his face. He could see the pavement through them. 

What happened? 

He knew he was dead. At least, he was supposed to be. He died on Gekkoukan’s roof, graduation day. After that, vague, hazy memories of being the Great Seal. He thought he saw Elizabeth. Maybe Ryoji too, even though he was supposed to be gone, even though he was supposed to be a part of Nyx. 

A distant ache, just below his lungs. 

He shook his head. That was nothing new. Just something that he’d learned to ignore. Tried to ignore. Even when it seemed impossible. 

Erebus… 

What was new was the faint pull in his chest. He hadn’t felt this specific pull before, not when he was alive or as the Great Seal. It almost felt like a Social Link. But that was impossible. If this was a new Link, he’d know, right? And he could still feel all his old Social Links wrapped around him, holding him together. 

Where were they? How long had it been? 

The strange pull was getting closer. He turned towards that pull. 

His eyes caught on a boy. Thick black hair. Sharp gray eyes. Glasses. Around his age. Taking in the sights, looking a little overwhelmed. He looked down at his phone, frowned, and tapped it. 

A burst of energy shot through him. Every muscle in his body locked up. That energy was achingly familiar. 

Persona. 

The world slowed to a stop. The boy startled and carefully looked around. 

Blue flames erupted in the distance. They formed into a humanoid figure, with blazing yellow eyes and a demonic smile. 

It looked like the boy. 

He blinked, and the figure was gone. The crowds around him were moving again. He glanced at the boy. 

The boy erased any hint of surprise on his face and frowned at his phone. He dragged a finger across the screen, then set off. 

Well. Might as well follow him. 

A train. An unanswered doorbell. A cafe. 

Sojiro Sakura was a gruff man, was apparently the boy’s temporary guardian, and put the boy in a cluttered, dusty attic. The boy had a criminal record, was expelled from his high school, and was on probation for the year. 

What kind of situation had he stumbled on? 

As far as he could tell, the boy hadn’t done anything wrong. He was protecting someone. He could understand that. Even now, the boy was cleaning the attic and making it liveable without complaint. 

Now would be a good time to test some things. He didn’t know why he was here with the boy. But the pull in his chest… It had to mean something. 

First, could he hear him? 

“Hey.”

The boy jumped and brandished the feather duster in his hand. “Who’s there?” 

He could. “Makoto Yuki. You?”

“Where are you?” he hissed. “What are you?” 

Rude. He didn’t answer the question. “I’m standing right here.” At least that answered if the boy could see him. “And I think I’m a ghost.” 

“You think?” the boy muttered. His eyes still darted around the room, but he’d resumed cleaning. “So what, you have some unresolved business or something?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“How do you not know?” 

Probably better not to delve into that yet. The boy didn’t know anything about Personas or Shadows… although he did encounter something. “You can probably talk to me with your mind.” 

“What?”

“I get the feeling you’re the only one who can hear me. So.”

“I’m going crazy,” he muttered. “You want me to talk with my mind? Like this?” 

“Yes. Name?” 

“Why do you want my name?” 

“I can keep calling you ‘the boy,’” he drawled. 

“...Ren Amamiya.” 

“Amamiya-san.” 

The boy made a face. His shoulders rode up. “Just call me Ren.”  

His eyebrow rose. Interesting reaction… He shook the thought away. “Then you can call me Makoto.” It wasn’t like anyone else could. 

“Are you sure…? I can’t—shouldn’t—” He shook his head. “How old are you?” 

“Seventeen… maybe. What year is it?” 

“2016.” 

His breath caught. Six… Six years. Six years. That meant… all his friends… 

They’d probably moved on by now. At least, he hoped they did. Six years… 

Ken would be in high school. Ken would be a senior. Ken would be his age or older. 

“Hey, you okay? You got kind of quiet.”  

He blinked, a little taken aback. “I’m fine.” A pause. “Thanks.” 

The pull in his chest hummed. So it was a new Link… or something close enough. Maybe not a proper Link, but still a bond. 

It felt nice. Ren was nice. 

“Tell me about yourself?” Ren chuckled. “I mean, it’s not like there’s anything else I can do… Ah, only if you’re okay with it though.” 

He settled against a wall, out of the way. “I like music.” His hands instinctively went to the MP3 hanging from his… Huh. “I still have my MP3.” 

Ren frowned. “Really? But aren’t you… you know, dead?”  

“Apparently. And yes.” His hands went higher. “Still have my headphones too.” Then again, he’d died with them on… He blinked the thought away. “I went to Gekkoukan High, Tatsumi Port Island.” 

“The artificial island?” 

He nodded, then remembered he had to speak. “Yes.” 

Ren shoved a cardboard box into a shelf, with more force than necessary. Questions burned in his eyes, only barely hidden by his glasses. 

“You can ask.” 

Ren stiffened. “I didn’t—I don’t—” 

“If I don’t want to answer, I’ll tell you.” 

Ren exhaled. “If you say so…” He hauled some junk to a different corner of the room. “...Why are you here?” 

He thought he would ask about his death. Maybe Ren thought that was too sensitive… “What do you mean?”

“You’re a ghost, right? I mean, I can’t even see you. Is there… some reason for that?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Ren narrowed his eyes at nothing, clearly skeptical. 

“Really.” He was supposed to be part of the Great Seal. He wasn’t supposed to be here, and yet… 

“Do you… have any regrets, then?”  

He… did. It would be a lie to say that he didn’t, but… “I don’t regret dying.” He regretted that it had to happen, that he couldn’t spend more time with his friends… but if he had the choice, he would do it again. “I don’t think I have any regrets strong enough to pull me back from where I’m supposed to be.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Wow, he was pushy. “Why are you so interested?”

Ren stilled. “Is that a problem?” 

He shook his head. He… clearly touched a nerve. “Just curious.”

Ren continued cleaning. His movements were stiff, almost jerky. “What are you going to do if I don’t stop? Haunt me? Oh wait, you’re already doing that.” 

“Ren, it’s okay.” 

He faltered. Shook his head. Violently shoved files under a desk. 

“I’m already dead.” He stifled the twinge in his chest. “I’m a stranger to you. There’s no reason for you to help me. So… why?” Why was he so interested? Why was he so invested? Why did he care? 

Ren smirked. It looked strained. “I’m a knight in shining armor, I guess. I can’t help but try to help.” He slumped. “Besides, I…” A hand reached up and tugged on his bangs. 

He watched him. He didn’t know him well, but… 

Sojiro’s warnings. The probation. The incident that led him here to begin with. 

“Cause any problems, and you’ll be sent straight to juvie.” 

He thought he could understand. 

“I think you did the right thing.”

Ren startled. “How…?”

“I heard from Sakura-san.” He moved to face him, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything but wanting to do it anyway. “You did the right thing.” 

Ren needed a supporter. Someone who approved of his actions, who would be on his side. Someone who he didn’t have to walk eggshells around, careful not to make one wrong move. Someone who would believe in him. 

He could be that someone. He was a Wild Card. He had many Personas, many masks, many ways to face the world. Why not him? 

He had this bond for a reason. 

Ren ducked his head. “I still have a criminal record.” He tugged harshly on his hair. “Do you… Do you really not mind?” 

He huffed. “There are very few things I care about.” How many times had he responded with a simple I don’t care? How many times had he let others drag him into their plans? “And besides, I’m… well, dead.” 

Ren snorted. His shoulders relaxed. “Okay, yeah, I guess I can see how you’d let a lot of things slide. Or hear, anyway. You kind of have that voice.” 

“Voice?” 

“Really flat, really neutral.” A smile twisted his lips. “I’m… a little jealous, actually. Is your face the same way?” 

“I’ve been told I have a… ‘resting blank face.’” 

“Figures. Bet you don’t even need—” He shook his head. “Nevermind.” His glasses glinted strangely, hiding his eyes. 

His eyes, his voice, his entire self… He was an expressive type. The exact opposite of him. It seemed like that was the problem. “Why?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Why are you jealous?” 

Ren grimaced. “Probation, remember? I can’t stir up trouble, no matter what. It would be… easier… if I could blend in, be a normal high school student, if I wasn’t so…” He gestured to himself. “Anyway, if I could be more like you, maybe it would be easier.” 

“Maybe. I think you’re fine.” Sometimes he wished he could be as expressive as Ren. Emote as easily as he did. 

Ren stared at him, then shook his head. “Back on topic. If we’re going to figure this out, you’re going to have to explain some things.” 

He frowned. An obvious topic change, but he’d let it slide. Now, how to explain without mentioning Personas, or Shadows, or Nyx, or anything…? “My situation is… different from what normally happens. When I died, I was supposed to go somewhere. I was supposed to stay there.”

“How’s that working out for you?” 

His lips twitched. “That’s why this is strange. I shouldn’t be here. Not without consequences.” 

“What kind of consequences?” 

“None of us would be here.” 

Ren paused. “...So, really bad things.” 

A noncommittal hum. He was… going to be doing a lot of that, huh. 

“Is there anything else you can tell me?” Ren pressed. 

He could tell him about the Fall, the Great Seal, Nyx, Erebus. But Ren likely wouldn’t believe him. Ghosts was one thing. The end of the world was another. “Not really.” 

“You’re… not really giving me a lot to work with.” 

He sighed. “I’m not sure there’s anything you can do. Given the circumstances.” 

Ren narrowed his eyes. “There’s always something.” Determination dripped from his tone. 

He smiled. He couldn’t argue with that, not with his own experiences. “It’s complicated,” he said instead. “I’m not sure you’d believe me.” 

“I’m chatting with a talking voice in my head that claims to be a ghost,” Ren’s voice was almost as dry as his. “Using some sort of telepathy, no less. I think I can suspend my disbelief hard enough for whatever crazy story you come up with.” 

It was one thing to say it, but if he was willing… After some thought, he shook his head. “Not yet. Soon. But not yet.” 

“How soon is ‘soon’?”  

“You’ll see.” 

“That’s… vague.” 

Another noncommittal hum, but his smile grew. 

Ren sighed. “You… Are you okay with this?” He waved a hand. “Being a ghost, I mean. You, uh, you don’t really sound concerned about it.” 

He shrugged. Maybe it hadn’t hit him yet, not fully. But he could still feel his bonds. He wasn’t alone. As long as he could still feel his bonds, he wasn’t alone. That was the most important part. And… “I have you.” 

Ren blinked. Stared at the floor. 

“I mean it,” he said, when Ren was a beat too quiet even for him. “I have you. I think I’ll be okay.” 

“Uh.” Ren ducked his head. “Okay then.” A small, shy smile played on his face. He hastily shoved the last bits of junk behind the stairs and dusted off his hands.  

His chest warmed. If he focused, he could almost feel their bond hum… but no, not a rank up. Not yet. Not as clearly, sharply defined. Just… potential. 

Ren returned to the center of the room, slowly rotating his gaze around. Most of the dust, cobwebs, and clutter was gone. The rest was organized to leave breathing space in the middle. The room seemed actually livable now. A few motes of dust caught in the light and sparkled in the air. 

“Impressive.” 

“There’s still so much dust,” Ren grumbled. “So much dust. Why is there still so much dust?” 

“Like things neat?” 

Ren’s mouth curved up. “I’m not as bad as some people. There was this one guy in tow—uh, from where I’m from…” 

Footsteps from the stairs. 

Ren stiffened, stuffed his hands in his pockets, schooled his face, and turned. 

Sojiro came up and raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t think you were cleaning.” 

Ren’s expression barely changed. But the tense eyes, the tiny frown, the hunched shoulders… 

No, they had already been there, they were just more pronounced now. 

“Why don’t you go to bed for tonight?” Sojiro continued. “You probably don’t have anything better to be doing, right? I’m not going to look after you if you get sick from staying up too late.” 

Ren gave a small nod, and Sojiro left. Ren’s eyes followed him to the staircase, then lingered there. His lips screwed together as time passed, tighter, tighter. 

He recognized that look. Ren’s thoughts were spiraling. Someone had to snap him out of it. And… he was the only one here. The only one who could notice. 

Well, he had a bond with him. That had to mean something. But more than that… he didn’t want to leave him like this. 

“He’s kind of harsh.” 

Ren startled, then scowled. “Of course he is.” He made his way to the bed, then paused. “I didn’t… I’m not accidentally walking through you, am I?” 

He shook his head. Paused. Realized that Ren couldn’t see him. “No.” 

“Okay… Do you want the bed…?” 

He shrugged. “You can take it.” It didn’t really matter if he had a ‘proper’ bed. 

“Right…” Ren laid down, fiddled with his phone with a frown, and closed his eyes. 

Makoto watched him until his breath evened out. Then, he floated over to the couch and fell asleep. 

Or tried. It was more dozing than actually sleeping. He was still vaguely aware of himself, his bonds, that distant ache, but he wasn’t fully conscious. He was in a trance, disconnected from the world. Time passed. He couldn’t tell how long, but he knew time passed. 

The pull vanished. 

He jerked out of his half-asleep state and flew to Ren’s side. Gently, he pressed a hand to Ren’s chest. He was still there. Still breathing. Still had a pulse. 

So why could he not feel that pull? 

The pull shouldn’t have disappeared. Couldn’t have. It was impossible. 

Bonds didn’t just disappear. Bonds could—could twist, fracture, or even break—but they couldn’t stop existing. They might hurt or ache, but they were always there. 

But Ren’s… wasn’t. Somehow. 

It was probably Persona-related. Or Shadow-related. Bonds were a Wild Card thing, a Persona thing. Only a related cause could make it disappear. Maybe it could be fixed with a Persona. If he summoned one— 

Actually, could he summon? 

He focused. A faint, familiar presence in the back of his mind. Orpheus Telos. But the others… He couldn’t sense them. Not even Messiah—and Messiah was his, like Orpheus, like Orpheus Telos, and unlike the others. 

Either way, Orpheus Telos’ power was too weak. He couldn’t summon. And he had no Evoker. 

This was the real world. The normal world. With no Dark Hour. He should’ve expected this. 

Except he was a ghost. Somehow. With a strange new bond. That disappeared. 

He frowned at Ren’s chest, gently rising and falling, like nothing was wrong. He hoped this was nothing. He hoped that this would fix itself, somehow. Because… he didn’t know what to do. There was nothing he could do. 

He cast one last look over Ren, drifted back to the couch, and fell back into his trance.

Chapter Text

The bond was back when he woke up. Normal. He spent the next morning with a close eye on Ren. He seemed fine—a little tense, a little thoughtful, a little quiet… but that was understandable. He left the attic in his school uniform, hands in pockets, glasses reflecting the light. 

Sojiro glanced up. “Looks like you’re awake. The school you’re attending is in the Aoyama district. The route transfers are a pain, so I’ll drive you there, but just for today.” A plate of curry sat on the counter. 

Ren stared at it uncertainly, then transferred that gaze to Sojiro. 

“What’s that reaction for? Just eat it. Cafe might be closed right now, but in the future, I want you to finish it before the customers start coming in.” 

Ren hesitantly sat down and started eating. At the first bite, his eyes widened. He began eating faster. 

Makoto wished he could taste it for himself, but… “Taste good?” 

Ren startled. “You’re still here?” 

“Yes…?” 

“Something wrong?” Sojiro asked. 

“Nothing… Just thought I heard something.” 

Sojiro eyed him. “Right… Well, just don’t take too long.”

Ren finished his plate silently and stood. Sojiro swiped the plate from him and put it in the sink. With Sojiro’s back turned, Ren swallowed. “You’re… really real.” 

Oh. Oh. “I am.” 

Ren let out a slow, silent breath. “I… Good. That’s good.” 

“What happened?” he asked in his most open, non-judgemental tone. “You readily believed that my voice was real yesterday.” So what had changed? 

Ren sighed. “I thought it was impossible for me to hallucinate or dream up a voice with its own name and personality, but then I had this crazy dream about—” 

At the door, Sojiro barked at Ren to hurry up. Ren startled and rushed after him. 

Makoto followed more leisurely. A dream… He needed to ask Ren about it later. It might’ve been related to why the bond disappeared. 

The teen was back at the subway again. It wasn’t unusual, until he ducked behind a pillar and tapped his phone. 

The world warped. Red ripples spread across his vision. Yu blinked and found himself in a red-tinted, distorted version of the subway, red vines—which looked alarmingly more like veins—growing on the walls and corners. The faintest hint of dust coated the floor. When he breathed in, he could taste the oppressive atmosphere, sourness and bitterness caked in artificial sweetness, then rolled in dust or mildew for good measure. There was a slight pressure on his shoulders, as if the air itself had eyes watching his every move. 

This place was strangely familiar, but off. It felt like the color blue, or the buzz of lightning, or the hum of tarot cards. It felt like the faint hissing of static, with a muffled haziness. 

Like TV static… and fog. 

The teen, now in a full-body dark suit and a black mask, headed deeper, pink ripples spreading beneath his feet. His eyes were half hidden behind red glass, but he was used to looking through his teammates’ glasses to discern their lines of sight, so he could see the way the teen’s eyes raked over the surroundings. 

He was hunting for something. A Shadow? 

The teen came to a swirling portal that sucked in the subway tracks, reminiscent of the ones in the TV World at the start of a Dungeon. The teen leaped into the portal.

He followed and landed in a dark, enclosed room. The only light came from the red web-like designs on the floor. A Shadow waited at the end—a humanoid Shadow wearing a business suit. It looked… human. Not just humanoid—it looked human. It looked almost completely normal, except for the yellow eyes. 

The teen tore off his mask. Blue flames burst around him. “Loki! Call of Chaos!” 

Blood-red energy infected the Shadow, turning it darker and making its eyes blaze an even brighter yellow. The teen swiftly left the scene. 

Yu was left to stare at the Shadow writhing and clawing at the floor. It still looked human, but its face was contorted in a scream. The shrill sound bounced off the walls. 

He turned on his heel and left the room. He couldn’t take any more of this. He couldn’t stand to stay any longer. He couldn’t… 

Think. A distraction. 

This had to be significant. This had to have some purpose. What did it do? For all he knew, this new Shadow world was localized to Tokyo like the TV World was to Inaba, so… 

His eyes widened. Of course. The recent incidents: the psychotic breakdowns and mental shutdowns. Naoto had looked into them, but couldn’t investigate due to her inability to enter Tokyo. He remembered thinking that they were suspicious, that there was a possibility of it being connected to Shadows somehow, but Teddie had reported no change in the TV World, so he let it be. To think it really was caused by Shadow-related activity… 

He had to stop this. He had to do something. The Investigation Team wouldn’t let this stand. He couldn’t let this stand. 

But… he was dead. What could he do? He couldn’t turn him into the police, couldn’t prompt an investigation, couldn’t do anything. He was… 

Alone. 

He wished they were here. Yosuke and Chie and Yukiko and Kanji and Rise and Naoto. Their strength, their wit, and their energy… They would know what to do. At the very least, they would help him stop feeling so useless, so helpless, so… 

He sighed. He had to be here for a reason, right? And he had resolved to get to the bottom of this mystery. That meant seeing it through to the end. Even… Even like this. He could at least keep an eye on the teen. Even if that was all he could do, he had to do something. 

He scanned the twisting hallways for the teen, cursing himself for not paying more attention. This place looked like a labyrinth, like the Dungeons from the TV World; if he lost him, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to find him again. 

He turned the corner, and there was the teen. He gave a mental sigh of relief, until he caught sight of movement. 

A Shadow lurked in the dim light, masks covering its upper body—not human, but still vaguely humanoid in shape and much more humanoid than most of the generic Shadows of the TV World. It was still far enough away that the teen hadn’t noticed it, but it was drifting closer. 

He hesitated. The Shadows in this area didn’t appear particularly strong, but he had no way to know for certain, and all Shadows—even weak ones—had the potential to be dangerous. He also didn’t know the teen’s power level, especially how it matched up to the Shadows in this area. The teen seemed strong enough, if he was travelling alone with the ease of someone well accustomed to the area. Chances were the teen would notice the Shadow eventually, but… the Shadow was approaching from what he knew to be a blind spot. 

He didn’t need to step in. He wasn’t even sure if he should. With what he’d seen, the teen was the most likely cause of the psychotic breakdowns and mental shutdowns. 

But still—still— 

He charged at the Shadow. A sword formed in his hands. He instinctively brought it down. 

The Shadow was split in two. 

The teen spun with a curse. He swung out with his own sword. 

He ducked on instinct. The sword swiped through the air where his neck used to be. He felt a chill run down his spine. That aim was uncanny. Could he see him? 

The teen scowled and stabbed the Shadow. The Shadow disintegrated. He cast a lingering, wary eye on the surroundings. “Show yourself,” he hissed. 

Despite himself, a part of him wilted. So he couldn’t see him. And he’d already established that he couldn’t be heard or felt either, so there was no way for them to communicate. 

Did he even want to try? Did he even want to risk it? Communication would mean revealing his existence as a ghost. Right now, the teen didn’t even know he was there. He could simply lurk and eavesdrop until he figured out a way to stop him.  

Then again, there wasn’t much to risk; he was already dead. And communication would help him gather information. Not just on methods—those, he could figure out through observation—but on more subjective matters as well. Motive, for one. He knew there were people out there who killed and hurt others simply because they wanted to, but he couldn’t assume this was the case. He had to reach out to the truth—the truth of who the teen was. What was his motive? Were others involved? Was some supernatural entity meddling with the world again? 

...The last one happened a lot more than people might expect. 

Still, communication could only help. Besides… it felt dishonest to lurk around him and spy on his daily life. 

There was still the problem of how to communicate. But he could fight those Shadows. Maybe… Maybe… 

He reached out and grasped the teen’s hand. 

The teen lurched away. “Who’s there?!” 

“Yu Narukami.” His voice bubbled out of his throat before he could stop it. “Can you hear me?” 

“I said, who are you?” 

That was a no. He tried to shove the disappointment away. Focus. How else could he communicate? Since the teen had felt him, and he fought those Shadows, that meant he could touch things in this place, right? 

He kneeled down and started to write his name in the thin layer of dust on the floor. He got through his first name, then paused. Did he really want an unknown individual—a possible enemy—to know his name? 

The teen stalked over. “So your name is Yu.” He shot a glare in his direction—which was surprisingly accurate; he could feel the vitriol. “How did you get here?”

I followed you, he wrote. 

“Followed—?” His grip on his sword tightened. “Why?” 

It was better to be honest, right? He wasn’t sure if he could be hurt in this place, but since he could touch others and fight Shadows… Just in case, he didn’t want to test it. And the teen was looking more and more ready for a fight. 

I’m dead, he scrawled. You’re interesting. He hesitated, then added, I want to keep an eye on you. 

The teen bristled. “For what reason?” 

Curiosity. It was the truth, or at least part of it. 

“I highly doubt curiosity is enough to follow me, a relative stranger, into an alternate reality. Moreover, you dispatched those Shadows far too easily, even as weak as they were.” 

How much did he want to tell him? 

I have a Persona. After some thought, he crossed out ‘have’ and wrote ‘had’ under it. I haven’t summoned one in years. 

“Why?” 

Didn’t need to. He hadn’t thought he needed to. After all, they’d defeated Izanami, Mikuratana-no-Kami, and Hi-no-Kagutsuchi. And after that, there weren’t any more supernatural, world-ending incidents… or so he’d thought. But with the existence of this place, teeming with Shadows… had he been wrong? 

First, he had to at least find out who this teen was. Can I have your name? 

The teen scoffed. “Why would I give you my name?” 

One of his friends—Yosuke, Kanji, Rise, maybe even Chie—would have rolled their eyes. He only drew his brows together, face set in slightly more of a frown than it was before. I need something to call you. 

The helmet covered most of his face, but he could see his mouth was set in a decidedly unimpressed line. “Your intentions couldn’t be more transparent if you tried. I’m almost offended.” 

Sorry…? It’s the polite thing to do. 

The teen’s mouth flattened even more, which—wow, he didn’t even think that was possible. “Don’t be so condescending. You and I both know that’s not what I’m talking about.” 

He mentally sighed. He was trying to be courteous, and he truly did want to be on more amicable terms, but if he was going to insist… What can I do with a name? He underlined the I’m dead statement twice and added, I can’t do anything. 

A scowl etched on the teen’s face. “Well, I suppose you did save me…” He was silent for a moment. “Fine then. You may call me Akechi.” 

Yu paused. Akechi? Why did that sound so familiar…? 

Akechi advanced, the sole of his shoe scuffing some of the words. “What do you intend to do here? Or are you going to keep following me around like a lost child?” 

He considered, and then, with deliberate carelessness, scrawled, I’m twenty one. And older than you. 

Akechi’s gaze sharpened. The weight of it, the intensity, honed in on him. “Congratulations,” he drawled in a dismissive tone, but his focus didn’t change. “You still followed me here. I would have thought that you would haunt people you actually knew, but I suppose you truly must not have anything better to do.” 

I have friends and family. But they wouldn’t be able to see or hear me anyway. At least, he highly doubted that they would. If not even Akechi, with a Persona and in another world, could perceive him… 

“So you’re going to follow me. For the rest of your afterlife.” 

He drew a checkmark. 

Akechi’s hand twitched on his sword. “Who do you think you are?” 

He underlined Yu, and then Persona. 

Akechi growled. “Are your supposed friends as aggravating as you are?” 

Sometimes. One of my friends got on the girls’ nerves easily when we were in high school. 

Akechi settled slightly, but that intensity still ran through his body. His gaze—though still hidden—was as sharp as before, with an eager, almost hungry slant. 

He wasn’t dumb. He knew that Akechi had been provoking him to gain more information on him. Ever since that moment with his name, he had been carefully thinking through what he wanted to reveal. And he did want to reveal things; he wanted to be as honest as possible to encourage Akechi to return the gesture. Communication would only help him learn the truth if they weren’t constantly, blatantly lying to each other. And though lies of omission weren’t much better… he needed to take precautions. 

Simple, generic information was fine: birthdays, personal anecdotes, tidbits and trivia. But he would reveal nothing that could be used as identification, that could be used to track down himself or those he loved. Nothing that could endanger his friends and family. 

He refused to endanger them due to his own curiosity and machinations. 

“I have better things to do than to interrogate a dead man,” Akechi said. “Let’s make this quick. Answer me now or you will suffer the consequences. What is your goal here?” 

He couldn’t dodge the question anymore, nor did he want to. He had no intention of staying here forever, dancing around the traps and pitfalls hidden in Akechi’s words. He wanted them to be on more even ground. We both want the same thing. Why not give each other what we want? 

“I said—” 

He drew a hasty scribble to stop him and continued. I’m willing to answer your questions as long as you give me the same courtesy. 

Akechi’s eyes narrowed. “What, exactly, do you mean?” 

It looked like he needed to spell it out explicitly. A question for a question. An answer for an answer. I’ll tell you the truth if you do the same.  

“And how do I know that you aren’t lying?” 

Trust. At Akechi’s scoff, he elaborated. We have to trust each other to tell the truth as we know it.  

It was a gamble. The fact of the matter was, he didn’t know if he could trust Akechi to keep his word. He’d like to believe that was the case, from what he’d observed, but he couldn’t be certain. 

Still, he had already trusted him with his existence. Why not take it a step further? 

Akechi stood still, staring at the words on the ground, not answering. Not agreeing… but not disagreeing either. 

He took a breath. Well. It seemed as though he needed to take that leap first. He could still stalk him in the real world, if it came down to it. I want to find the truth. The truth behind why you did what you did to that Shadow and if there is more going on that we aren’t aware of.  

“Fancy yourself a detective?” 

Something about that word seemed significant, especially with the slight emphasis that Akechi had placed on it, but he ignored it for now. Persona users are rarely alone. There’s usually a force behind it, a reason why we were granted this power. I want to make sure this force isn’t going to cause us harm. 

“Is that something to be particularly worried about?” 

The supernatural entities I’ve encountered—excluding Teddie, Marie, and the residents of the Velvet Room—have either been extremely misguided or actively malevolent. The entity that gave me the power to use my Persona was the former, but she tried to end the world by turning everyone into Shadows. I know of another entity who actively sought the world’s destruction, and manipulated another Persona user into helping it. 

“Oh?” His voice had changed briefly, lighter and smoother, with a familiar inflection. “And here I thought you wouldn’t give away so much information.” 

He underlined Trust, and then his terms. He was still expecting answers, of course; this was supposed to be a mutually beneficial exchange. But he was willing to give this much. Evil or not, he wanted this new Persona user to understand that there was more going on behind the scenes, that there could be someone or something pulling the strings, that there was a force out there that could be influencing his life right now. If he wasn’t evil, if he was being manipulated like Sho, then he needed to know. If he was… If he was, then he still needed to know. No one should be taken advantage of, should have their life treated like a plaything of the powers above. Especially if they weren’t even aware it was a possibility. 

That’s my truth, he wrote. Will you give me yours? 

Akechi went silent, his lips creased in a contemplative frown. Yu let himself drift into his head, chasing the nagging feeling that he knew Akechi from somewhere. His name was familiar… but why? Where would he have heard about a teen, enough for his name to be familiar, enough for even his voice—when spoken in a certain way—to be familiar? If his voice was familiar, he must have at least heard him before—was he famous? And that strange emphasis on detective… 

Wait… Oh. Now he felt dumb. This was Goro Akechi, the second coming of the Detective Prince. The one he’d very briefly conversed about with Naoto and Rise, after he had started showing up on TV and gaining a little exposure. What was a renowned, respected public figure like him doing, skulking around in this Shadow world and possibly—almost certainly—causing the breakdowns and shutdowns? Not that he didn’t have some experience with this kind of situation; after all, Adachi… 

Akechi finally spoke. “How do I know that you aren’t one of these entities as well? You claim to be dead as if you once were alive, but you haven’t given me any identification other than your name.” 

If he wanted to be frank… You are obviously a dangerous person. I do not trust you to leave my friends and family alone if I give you a lead. 

“And here you talked about trusting me.” 

I trust you to keep your word. I do not trust you to not involve my friends.  

His lip curled up. “So you aren’t just a brainless fool.” 

Of course he wasn’t. He was part of the team who solved the Inaba murder mystery. But more than that, he was a Wild Card. He couldn’t afford to not think through his actions when his actions could potentially impact so many people he knew. Especially now, when he was dancing with danger in this manner. 

Akechi nodded to himself. His voice hardened. “Very well. I’ll accept your deal.” 

Glass shattered. 

Thou art I… and I am thou… 

Thou hast established a new bond… 

It brings new mysteries that lead thee closer to the truth… 

Thou shalt be blessed when creating Personas of the Fool Arcana…  

Yu raised an eyebrow. A new Social Link? Not only that, but a new Social Link that he’d already had before? 

But wait—The incantation was different. It had been over four years ago, but—he knew the incantation was different somehow. The first two lines were the same, but the third…? 

New mysteries. That was the different part. Before, it only said that the bond was bringing him closer to the truth. But now… 

A thin smile spread on his face. New mysteries, huh? The kid certainly was one. It seemed like he was only the start. And hopefully, now he would be getting some answers. 

“What do you wish to know? Make it quick; we don’t have much time.” 

He braced himself. Alright then, time to be blunt. Was what you just did a psychotic breakdown or a mental shutdown? 

A thin smirk grew on Akechi’s face. “Yes.” 

Yu had mastered the art of the straight face a long time ago, so he very firmly did not groan. I meant which one. 

“A psychotic breakdown. It’s a power unique to me.” He cast a wary glance to the side. “We should go. It’s not wise to linger.” 

He frowned, but then he heard it—the sound of rattling chains. He tensed and followed after Akechi. He could get his answers later. The Reaper was not something to be messed with. 

Some heart-pounding moments later, they were back at the entrance. Akechi tapped his phone, and the world warped back into regular Tokyo subway scenery. 

Akechi cast his eyes around. “I don’t suppose you can give any sign that you’re here,” he muttered lowly. 

Yu tried to grab his shoulder. His hand phased through. He shook his head and belatedly remembered that he couldn’t be seen either. 

Akechi brought his phone to his ear and walked briskly through the open. “Perhaps we should meet up again later.” His voice was pitched higher and lighter—what he now knew to be his Detective Prince voice. “Would tomorrow at 6:30 suffice?” A fake pause. “Splendid.” 

Yu followed him to the end of the station, faintly exasperated and grudgingly impressed. He knew he couldn’t exactly give his input, but did Akechi really need to set the meeting time himself with that air of complete self-assurance? Still, he had to admit that he knew how to put on a convincing act. 

At the station’s edge, Akechi… hesitated. His eyes took on a strange, unreadable quality, and he lowered his voice to a murmur. “If you wish to know more, perhaps you should stay behind a little longer.” He turned on his heel and left. 

Yu’s eyes trailed after him, but he didn’t move, taking a moment to puzzle over those words and that strange look in his eyes. What could Akechi have meant by that?

A faint screeching from deep inside the tunnel. He stiffened. That sound was all too familiar. 

Metal against metal, harsh and grating…  

A train barrelled through, tearing a line through the platform. Screams erupted as people dove away. Sparks flew from the rails. The train ground to a halt, each car piling on each other. Dust clouds bloomed, thick and choking, covering the wreckage—the wreckage he knew had to be there, with the grinding of brakes, the screech of metal, the flickering lights, the sharp edges coming down on him like a guillotine, the last thing he’d ever see— 

He took a sharp breath. Tucked the images away. Exhaled. 

The clouds had cleared some. The train cars were half-tilted and in an only vaguely straight line, but thankfully, it seemed like none of the walls had caved in or bent. Broken stone shards littered the area, the remains of the platform. Most of the people had made it clear, though some had some scrapes and bruises from escaping. He… didn’t know about the people inside. The doors were sealed shut, locking them away. 

He watched emergency services arrive on the scene. He watched rubble be shifted to the side. He watched the doors be pried open and people be pulled from the wreckage. Some were able to crawl out, pick themselves up, and walk away. Some weren’t; they had to be carried out on stretchers. 

The newly formed Social Link was a weight around his chest. He swallowed. 

You caused this, didn’t you? 

“To reiterate, just so we’re clear, you will immediately be expelled if you cause any problems.”  

Makoto raised an eyebrow. Wow, the people at this school were hostile. They even complained about Ren to his face. If this was how it would be, he was glad he stuck with him. 

Sojiro got them out once the principal’s dismissive attitude started bothering even him. They returned to the cafe after slogging through traffic—something about a subway accident. Sojiro gave Ren a diary, got a call, warned him not to mess with the store, and left. 

Ren sagged, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. He got changed and laid in bed, fiddling with his phone. “Hey… did you do something to my phone?” 

“No.” He floated over. “Why do you ask?”  

Ren showed him his phone, pointing to an app with a red eye. “This keeps showing up, even though I thought I deleted it… I thought it might be some weird ghost thing since it showed up around the same time you did.” 

“I don’t recognize it…” But it felt… familiar. Somehow. Orpheus Telos shifted in his soul. 

“Must be malware then.” Ren dragged the app to the trash and closed his eyes. 

He frowned. Orpheus Telos… It was almost like he took interest in the app. Which meant the app couldn’t be normal. “Be prepared for tomorrow.” 

“Sounds vaguely ominous. Why’s that?” 

“Just a feeling.” A pause. He weighed his words. “Don’t let them get to you. You’ll get through this.” 

“...I hope so.”

The next morning, he was roused by shuffling and the creaking of steps. Ren scarfed down breakfast—more curry—and went out the door. Makoto trailed after him. 

The train car was almost completely packed. Ren got on with a grimace, hugging his bag to his chest. Makoto drifted nearby, two people phasing through him. 

The train spat them out at a wide, bustling platform, multiple pathways branching out like a labyrinth. Ren stared blankly, clearly lost. “Uh… Do you think you could help?” 

“Sorry. Iwatodai had a monorail.” It was nowhere near as complicated as Tokyo subway lines. And he didn’t remember much about the other places he’d lived. 

Ren clicked his tongue. “Worth a shot,” he muttered. 

Up the stairs, past the ticket gate, eavesdrop on an attendant for directions… 

Ren glared at the sign blocking the hallway. “Cleaning? Really? Why does this have to be even more complicated?” A pause. He sighed, shuddering a little. “Sorry. I’m… a little on edge.” 

“It’s fine.” Makoto glanced around, searching. “Take the stairs to the right. If you go around…” 

“You mean, around the building? Find another entrance? Yeah, that might work…” 

It was raining when Ren finally found the right train and left the station. Ren groaned and hid under an overhang. He pulled out his phone and sighed. “It’s that app again.” 

Makoto glanced at it. The app had expanded to cover the screen. Orpheus Telos stirred. 

That… was interesting. And a little concerning. 

A girl walked up to them. She pulled her hood back. Long blonde hair spilled out. She caught sight of Ren and gave a small smile. 

Ren stared. Openly. “Wow. She’s so pretty.” 

He smiled internally. “Stop staring.” 

Ren mumbled something unintelligible in his thoughts and turned to face forward again. 

A car pulled up. The window rolled down. A broad-chinned man peered out, eyes on the girl. “Good morning. You want me to give you a ride to school? You’re going to be late.” 

An uneasy smile. “Um, sure, thank you.” 

“Do you need a lift too?” 

Ren gave a wave of his hand. “Nah.” His voice was stiff. 

The girl got in the car, her eyes down. The car pulled away. 

He glanced at Ren. “Something wrong?” 

“That man gave me a bad feeling, I guess…” 

He raised an eyebrow and gave a hum. Perceptive. Or maybe just paranoid. Either way, it would serve him well, if his hunch was correct… 

Feet slapped against the wet road. A blond slowed to a halt. “Dammit! Screw that pervy teacher.” 

“Pervy teacher…?” 

The blond turned back with a scowl. “You planning on ratting me out to Kamoshida?” 

“Kamoshida?” 

The air buzzed. Makoto snapped to attention. His eyes fell on the phone. The phone with the app open, recording words. 

“He does whatever the hell he wants,” the blond was saying. “Who does he think he is—the king of a castle?” 

The buzzing increased, building in his ears. Orpheus Telos drew closer to the surface. 

“Wait. You don’t know Kamoshida? Are you for real? You’re from Shujin Academy, right?” 

The pressure snapped. A strange energy filled the air, like static electricity. 

Makoto winced and brought a hand to his head. It felt off. He felt off. Different. Changed. And the world, it was—warped…?  

Orpheus nudged him back to awareness. He blinked and shook the spots out of his eyes. 

The other two were shaking their heads. “Ugh,” the blond groaned. “My head hurts…” He walked off.

Ren followed, frowning. “Do you know anything about that weird headache? I would’ve thought it was just stress, but that boy got it at the same time, and it disappeared a few seconds later… It just seems strange.” 

“I’ve been out of it since he said Shujin,” he admitted. 

“Wait, really? Are you okay?” 

“Fine.” His head still ached, but that wasn’t important. “Be on guard. Something’s not right.” 

Ren tensed. Cast a glance at the blond. 

The blond reached the end of the alley and startled. “Wha—?” 

A large golden castle loomed ahead. Ominous purple clouds gathered above, casting a red haze. 

“We didn’t… come the wrong way though…” the blond muttered. “What’s going on here? I guess we’ll just have to go and ask.” The blond walked off. 

“Should we really be going into the creepy castle?” 

“No,” he said flatly. “But he’s already heading in.” 

Ren grimaced and followed the blond in. 

The floor was lined in red velvet with royal red drapes. A chandelier hung from the ceiling. On the far wall was a portrait of… the man in the car…? 

A blink. The world glitched. A glimpse of artificial lights. Another blink, and it was back to the red drapes and castle finery. 

He tensed and dropped into a stance, hand instinctively going to his—Oh. Oh. 

“Ask if this is the school,” he hissed. He knew he’d never been here before, but this felt far too familiar. 

“Is this our school?” Ren asked. 

“I mean, it… should be… The sign was for the school, right?” 

Ren gave a small nod. His eyes flitted to the side, hidden by his glasses. “What’s going on here?” 

“I—I don’t know, I want to know!”

A school had turned into a castle… How familiar. It wasn’t a tower of doom, but it could be just as dangerous. And at his waist… 

His sword. His Evoker. 

His hackles rose. He sensed—“Get out. Now.”

A knight lumbered towards them. 

The blond startled. “Geez, you freaked me out!” He took a step forward. “Who’re you, you a student?” 

Ren grimaced and shook his head. Tugged on the blond’s sleeve. “We should go.” 

“Huh? But—” The blond turned. Frowned. “Yeah, okay.” 

They ran, but two more knights blocked them off. They backed away. 

“...This shit’s real,” the blond breathed. 

A knight thrust its shield. 

The blond slammed into the ground. 

Makoto drew his Evoker. Orpheus— 

A harsh throb. He doubled over, gripping his head. 

The blond crawled to his feet. “Dammit, you’re gonna break my bones!” he snapped. “The hell do you think—” 

The knight struck him. He crumbled and didn’t move. 

Ren crouched over the blond, teeth bared. 

The knight batted him away. Another loomed over him. Raised its shield. Smashed it over his head. 

Ren dropped. 

His grip tightened. Orpheus—!  

Thou cannot. 

A sharp hiss escaped him. He squeezed his eyes shut, grappled with the pain. A hammer beat beneath his eyes. His head was throbbing. Like a saw driven through flesh. Nerves seared and fried. Hands twisting and tearing. Like that time with Thanatos bursting out of him. Only there was no Thanatos to burst out this time. Because he was gone. Because there was nothing. Nothing but emptiness where his Personas used to be. 

Focus! 

He gasped. He was curled up, hair fisted in his hands. His Evoker was on the ground. He picked it up and straightened. 

Ren and the blond were still on the ground. The knights still surrounded them. 

He swallowed. Orpheus…? 

Thou was not out long. Only a moment. 

He exhaled. Pressed his palms to his eyes. His head still felt raw. Frayed. What happened? 

Thou cannot interfere. Thou dost not have a strong enough presence to affect this world. Not without consequences. 

He frowned. It made sense. Just entering this world gave him a headache. Of course trying to summon would feel like a blow from Akihiko. Worse, even. But those two… 

Orpheus’ voice gentled. Thou need not fear their deaths. They still have a journey yet to be taken, much like thee. 

“Take them away!” a knight ordered. Two other knights slung their bodies over their shoulders and marched off. 

He trailed after them. Orpheus… Thanks. He would’ve done something reckless if it weren’t for him. 

I am thou, and thou art I. It is lucky that thou art equally stupid and sensible. 

His lip curved up. It’s good to hear from you again. 

They came to a dungeon cell. Dark, dirty, dilapidated. The knights tossed Ren and the blond in, locked the door, and left. 

He floated through the bars and checked on them. The blond was stirring, but Ren… 

He tentatively pressed a hand to his shoulder. It phased through. He sighed. He should’ve expected that. He settled in to wait. 

Some time later—hours, maybe—the blond sat up, groaning. His eyes landed on Ren. He rushed over. “Hey. Hey, wake up!” 

A pause. Long. Tight. Then, Ren stirred. Dragged himself upright. Cupped his head in his hands. He was silent, his mouth set in a stiff line.

Makoto kept quiet. He didn’t think it’d be a good idea to speak. 

“You alright?” the blond asked, much quieter. 

Ren nodded. Raised his head. “You?” 

The blond rolled his shoulder. “Yeah, more or less.” He turned to the bars. “Looks like this really ain’t no dream… What’s going on?” 

A tortured scream split the air. 

Though it was garbled, unease rippled through his body. He should’ve thought about whether others were here. If this was like how Apathy Syndrome was… 

More screams. A muffled plea. Retching. 

“Whoa,” the blond hissed. “Whoa, whoa, whoa—” His voice pitched higher. “Isn’t there some way out of here? Come on, we gotta do something!” 

A man strutted up to them, escorted by knights. King’s robes. Naked legs. A broad chin. The man in the car—Kamoshida. But his eyes were yellow. 

He’d only ever seen yellow eyes on Elizabeth, his Velvet Room Attendant. But these were… darker, somehow. Tainted. Dirtied. Wrong. Liz’s eyes were still unnatural, but not like this. Liz’s eyes were bright, pure, and these… weren’t. 

These were only a shadow. A Shadow’s.

The man cast a glance over them. “I thought it was some petty thief, but to think it was you, Sakamoto. It looks like you haven’t learned your lesson at all. Not only did you sneak into my castle, you committed the crime of insulting me—the king.” A slimy smirk. “The punishment for that is death.” 

His grip tightened on his Evoker. Orpheus… 

Thou cannot interfere. 

“It’s time for an execution!” 

The knights stormed into the cell, forcing Ren to the side and the blond against the wall. 

The blond sucked in a breath. “Goddammit…” A running charge, and he smashed into the knight. The knight toppled. He turned to Ren. “C’mon, we’re out of here!”

Another knight marched to him. He tried to back away, but the knight slugged him in the gut. A pained cry, and he dropped to his knees. 

Ren seized the knight and tried to drag it away. The knight didn’t even budge. 

“Just go!” the blond yelled. “Get out of here!”

The man chuckled. Cocked his head at Ren. “Running away, are we? What a heartless friend you are.” 

“He ain’t a friend,” the blond gritted out. 

Ren flinched. 

“C’mon, hurry up and go!” 

The man scoffed. “Pathetic scum isn’t worth my time. I’ll focus on this one’s execution instead.” 

The knights dragged the blond upright. 

A wicked grin distorted the man’s face. He slammed a fist into the blond. Jabbed another in his gut. And again. And again. 

“Stop it!” Ren snapped. 

The man rounded on him. “Don’t you dare tell me what to do,” he snarled. “That look in your eyes irritates me!” 

He shoved a leg at him. Ren staggered back. Two guards pinned him to the wall. 

“Hold him there,” the man ordered. “After the peasant”—he turned to the blond—“it’s his turn to die.” 

His grip went white. Orpheus.  

Thou cannot.  

I know, he nearly snapped. His heart was a live wire, hissing and sparking. But I can’t sit back and watch them—watch this happen!  

Wait. 

A glittering blue butterfly. 

Wait? How was he supposed to wait? These two were about to face death, they were about to die— 

“It wasn’t. A mistake.”  

He stopped. 

The butterfly drifted past Ren. Ren’s eyes hardened. “That’s enough!”

Oh. Of course. 

Kamoshida turned on him. “You desire to be killed that much? Fine!” 

A guard smashed his shield into Ren’s head, knocking the glasses off his face. 

A gust of power, howling and whistling. One that made even him step back. Then, for a moment, a silent stillness. 

A mask sat on Ren’s face. His fingers fumbled around the edge. He grasped it. Peeled it off. Blood poured down his cheeks, dripping like thick tears. He looked up, and his eyes blazed yellow. 

Blue flames burst around him. A deep voice laughed. The flames rose, forming into a red, gentlemanly figure with wings and chains. A Persona. 

“I am the pillager of twilight—Arsene!” 

With a flourish, the guards were blasted back. A wicked grin spread on Ren’s face. He wore a long black coat, red gloves, and pointed boots—not his uniform. 

“Guards!” the man roared. 

They stood, creaking and with puppet-like motion. 

“Start by killing that one!” 

The knights burst open. Two Shadows rose. But their form…  

Orpheus. These are Shadows. He didn’t doubt that. The energy they gave off was… too familiar. So why do they look like Personas? 

Pyro Jack, specifically. Weak against Ice, if he remembered right. But Ren’s Persona… wasn’t Ice. 

Ren took a battle stance, a blade in hand. 

These Shadows were weak. But even weak Shadows could hurt. And Ren had only just awakened. 

His lips thinned. Since he didn’t know what Ren could do… “Listen to your Persona.”

Surprise flickered in Ren’s eyes. “My what?”

“Arsene,” he clarified. 

A blink. A pause. Ren’s expression hardened. No, he was glaring. “There!”

His Persona flared its wings, stretched out a claw. A burst of scarlet, and the Pyro Jack reeled back. 

It felt like… Dark. Maybe. Almost, but not quite. 

Things were different. Of course they were. It had been years… 

The Pyro Jack crashed into Ren. He stumbled back. Retaliated with a wide swing. The Pyro Jack disintegrated. 

He let out a breath. Focus. 

The other advanced, gearing up for a swing. 

“Jump back,” he ordered. 

Ren startled and did so. The Pyro Jack swung its lantern through empty air, spinning with the force. Ren took the chance to tear a gash in its face. It howled. 

Ren glared. Another burst of power, and this one disintegrated too. He flexed a hand, staring down at himself. “That was…”  

The man snarled. 

Ren tensed and stared him down. 

The man stalked up to him. “You little—”

The blond rammed into the man, knocking him aside. “You like that?” he shouted, eyes wide. 

“The key!” Ren yelled. 

The blond swiped the keys off the ground. The two rushed out of the cell. A clang, and the cell was locked. 

The man shook the bars, spitting curses. 

The blond took a few steps back. Turned to Ren. “Hey, what was that just now? And your clothes…!” 

Ren shifted on one foot and shoved his hands in his pockets. A flash of blue fire, and the outfit disappeared. 

His brow furrowed. He’d never had an outfit. But Ren got his when he awakened. So it probably wasn’t normal for it to disappear… 

“Anyways, let’s scram!” the blond said. 

The two darted off, the blond chucking the keys into a nearby stream. Only torches lit their path. Cells lined the walls. They jumped the stream, crawled through a hole, crossed a drawbridge. Clanking echoed nearby. They ducked behind some crates. 

“Hey, are you still there?” 

He mumbled an agreement. 

Ren frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier? You know, when Kamoshida was… Well, with that whole situation.”  

“I… didn’t think about it.” He hadn’t. Not until Ren found himself in battle. A situation he was very familiar with—and familiar with speaking in. “It wouldn’t have helped. I can’t interfere.” 

“Can’t or won’t?” Ren challenged. 

“Can’t.” He huffed. “I tried, when you first got captured. It… didn’t go well.” He’d nearly died. Again. He couldn’t recklessly throw away his… ghost-life like that. Or else everyone would… 

“If you can’t physically interfere, then can you scout ahead? Make sure we don’t run into anything else.” 

“Sure.” The clanking had faded. The Shadows were gone. “I think you can move now.”

Ren gestured for the blond to stand, and they were off again. Up a staircase, through a door. He floated ahead. More cells. Some held a student inside, collapsed. The cell at the end held a… small, black cat… thing. Cute, but… 

It had large, vivid, supernatural blue eyes. The same as Ryoji’s. As Pharos’. 

He drew a sharp breath. Was this… a Shadow? 

The… creature waved Ren and the blond over. “Hey, you guys aren’t soldiers, right? Get me out of here!” 

“Why should we?” the blond shot back. “We’re trying to get the hell out of here, and you obviously look like an enemy too!” 

“You want to know where the exit is? Let me out, and I’ll take you there.” 

“What do you think?” Ren asked. “Do you think it’s dangerous?” 

“Seems friendly,” he said, careful to keep his voice steady. “Choose fast though.” The knights were still around. 

Ren narrowed his eyes at the creature. “You better not be lying.” He grabbed the keys and unlocked the door. The creature hopped out with a cheer. 

The blond glared. “Now where’s the exit, you monster cat?” 

“Don’t call me a cat! I am Morgana!” It… He? Morgana led them to a raised drawbridge and gestured at a stone head of the man. “Try checking around the mouth of this statue.” 

The jaw was shaped oddly. Ren pulled down on it. A clank, and the bridge lowered. 

“Like a video game…” Ren muttered. 

“How were we supposed to know to do that?” the blond demanded. 

“Amateurs,” Morgana scoffed. “Come on, this way!” 

Makoto was forced to follow behind. They rounded the corner. A knight walked in on them. 

The blond shouted and scrambled back. Ren tensed. A flare of blue, and he was in his other outfit. 

The knight burst into two Shadows again—Pyro Jack and Incubus. 

Morgana hopped over the blond. “Come, Zorro!” 

A dark, bulky figure with a rapier burst from Morgana. 

His eyes widened. He could summon a Persona. Shadows couldn’t summon Personas, could they? But those eyes… 

Morgana drew a curved sword. “Damn Shadows… they’re serious about killing us, so fight like your life depends on it!” 

Ren flung a blast of energy. The Incubus faltered but swiped at Ren. 

Morgana watched with those blue eyes. Scoffed. “I knew you were an amateur. This is how you fight!” 

A blast of green—Garu—knocked down the Pyro Jack. Morgana plunged the sword through it, and it disintegrated. 

He raised an eyebrow. That was a weakness? He didn’t remember Pyro Jack being weak to Wind… And didn’t Incubus block Dark…? 

“Strike an enemy’s weakness to knock them down, and use that opening to strike again. That is the most basic of basics!” 

The two finished off the last Shadow. 

Morgana turned to Ren, those blue eyes on him again. “Not bad. Your Persona’s pretty powerful.” 

“You mean that thing that comes out of you all dramatic like?” the blond asked. 

“Yes. You saw how Frizzy Hair ripped off his mask, right? Well, everyone wears a mask deep within their hearts. By removing that—” 

A burst of blue, and Ren’s outfit disappeared again. 

Morgana tilted his head. “It looks like you don’t have full control over your power yet. The transformation shouldn’t normally disappear like that.”

So he was right. But… something seemed off. Personas were… what had Igor said… a mask that protected him from hardship. Ren’s mask literally turned into his Persona, but… Morgana implied that summoning needed that mask taken off…? 

It had been years. Things changed. Still… 

Morgana led them onward. The blond paused by a prisoner in a red and white uniform he seemed to recognize. They got caught by and defeated two Pixies, and they finally reached a vent, which they used to exit. 

Morgana stayed behind. Those blue eyes lingered. “Those two seem useful,” he muttered. “Especially the frizzy-haired one, if my judgement’s right…” 

Those eyes were the same. That blue was the exact same shade. He knew. Ryoji—before that, Pharos—he had known better than himself, than anyone else. He knew those eyes. And yet… 

He couldn’t read them at all. Not like Ryoji’s. 

He could easily see what Ryoji meant, how he felt, through his eyes. Those eyes shone with every emotion, every thought, every passing whim. When happy, his eyes would light up. When sad, they gleamed with suppressed tears. When afraid, they turned bright and pale. He could see it all. 

Despite having the same eyes, Morgana was completely blank to him. 

It was… unnerving. At least Morgana didn’t seem like an intentional threat. But whether he was an unwitting one… like Ryoji had ended up… 

He went after Ren, floating through the wall. The world warped again. He held back a wince. 

Two officers were questioning Ren and the blond. The blond was trying to insist that the castle was real. With no success. 

“...I’m back,” he announced, a little awkwardly. 

Ren’s eyes flickered beneath his glasses. “They’re not going to believe us, are they.” 

“No.” 

Ren turned on his heel and left. 

They were met by the man at the school gate. The blond caught up, glared at the man, and stormed past. 

The man shook his head and surveyed Ren. “Have we met somewhere?”

“Don’t say anything about the castle,” Makoto warned. “That man likely isn’t aware.” 

“I saw a girl in your car,” Ren offered. 

“I remember now…” The man scowled at him. “At any rate, hurry up and go to the faculty office. I’m sure Ms. Kawakami’s tired of waiting by now. Cause any trouble and you’ll be expelled, understood?” He turned and threw a parting grin. “Good luck trying to enjoy your new school life.” 

He didn’t like that voice. Nor the look in his eye. 

Once the man walked away, Ren exhaled. “How do you know about all that crazy stuff? Morgana, I get, because he’s some sort of weird, supernatural… thing, but…”

“Not now. You still have school.” 

Ren narrowed his eyes. “You will explain, though?” 

“I will.” They had a lot to talk about. The Shadows. Morgana. Ren’s Awakening. 

Ren had been about to die. 

He exhaled. Forced his hands to unclench. But still, his breath trembled, and his pulse beat, beat, beat. 

He was…

Chapter Text

When Ren walked in the classroom, the room immediately erupted in whispers. Makoto grimaced at the snippets he caught. 

“So that’s him…?” 

“Settle down,” the homeroom teacher said. “I’d like to introduce a transfer student. We… had him attend in the afternoon because he wasn’t feeling well.” 

“I’m Ren Amamiya. Nice to meet you.” 

The whispers drifted around the room again. “He seems quiet, but I bet when he loses it…” 

“I mean, he was arrested for assault, right…?” 

Ren stiffened, only noticeable because he was standing right next to him. “Somebody leaked my record?” His mental voice was barely coherent—he probably hadn’t meant to send that thought to him. 

“Calm down,” he said. “You’ll be fine.” 

Ren let out a breath and went to the empty seat, hands in pockets, shoulders wound tight. He passed by the blonde from earlier. 

“Lies,” the blonde muttered. 

Ren paused. A quiet noise of surprise escaped him, then he continued to his seat. 

The whispers exploded again. Something about cheating on Kamoshida… 

Ren sat down and fixed his gaze out the window. His hands were clenched over his knees. 

With a shrug, he floated a little behind Ren, partway in the aisle. Maybe later, he would lean against the back wall, but for now… 

He’d better stick close. Even after six years, rumors hadn’t changed… but these were particularly harsh. 

School hadn’t changed much, otherwise. After school, he followed Ren out of the classroom. Paused. The halls were eerily similar to that castle. 

He wondered. If that castle was like Tartarus… and he was sensitive to that other place… 

He narrowed his eyes. 

Slowly, haltingly, red carpet wavered into view. 

He released the image. So he was right. The castle was connected to the school. But the trigger… probably wasn’t time. Maybe… no, that app had to be the cause. 

Ren grimaced and pressed a hand to his head. 

He frowned. “Don’t push yourself too hard.” Ren had been hit hard earlier. And if that place was like the Dark Hour, then it would tire him out more easily. 

The teacher came to check on Ren and warn him about the blond. The blond chose that exact moment to pass by and call him to the rooftop. 

“That’s why I don’t want you getting involved,” the teacher sighed as the blond walked away. “Understood?” 

Ren gave a small nod. The teacher left. Ren frowned at a spot on the floor. “I should probably still meet with him, huh.” 

Makoto shrugged. “Up to you.” 

“He’ll probably want to talk about that castle…” Ren’s gaze trailed to the side. To the students in huddles, throwing wary side-eyes. To the whispers, insidious. “Um, can you keep quiet while we’re talking? I don’t want him—or anyone, really—noticing anything…” 

“Sure.” 

Ren set his shoulders and trudged up the stairs. 

On the roof, the blond sat on a chair near a cluster of desks. Ren drew closer, glasses hiding his eyes. 

The blond shifted. “I heard you got a criminal record. Everyone’s talking about it.” 

Ren tensed. 

“No wonder you were so gutsy.” The blond’s voice was casual. Nonchalant. Almost flippant. “Anyway—” 

Ren let out a startled breath. Relaxed against a desk. 

The blond talked about the castle and thanked Ren for saving him from Kamoshida. Apparently the man had some rumors, but no one said anything because he was a former star. Which was why his actions in the castle felt “crazy real.” 

...How concerning. 

The blond grinned. “You know, we might be pretty similar. I’m Ryuji Sakamoto. I’ll come talk if I see you around. Don’t ignore me, alright?” He nodded to him and left. 

A beat. “He’ll probably end up a friend.”  

Ren scowled. “I’m still a little annoyed at him for dragging me into that mess.” 

Makoto shrugged. Technically, Ren had probably dragged him into the castle, not the other way around. He was the one with the app. 

Still, the blond—Ryuji—had stumbled into the castle with them. That had to mean something. 

After all, everyone in SEES had been linked by the Dark Hour. 

“Ms. Kawakami warned me against him,” Ren muttered. 

“She did.” 

“...He didn’t even bat an eye at my criminal record.” Ren’s voice was… puzzled, now. With a hint of frustration. 

“You like him.” 

“He’s a troublemaker, he’s not going to help me get through my probation—”

“You like him.” 

Ren groaned. “I shouldn’t be hanging around with him!”

“You like him.” That was a fact. Denial wouldn’t help. 

“...He didn’t care about my record,” Ren sighed. “He just… treated me like a normal person. Hell, he thanked me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can count on one hand the number of people who’ve done that since my arrest.” 

“Like I said. He’ll probably end up as your friend.” Ryuji didn’t seem like a bad guy, despite what the teacher said. He reminded him of Junpei, actually. He didn’t have quite the same aura, but that carefree smile… 

Ren stared at the door. His gaze turned… distant. Seeing the school, maybe. The students. The whispers. “I don’t… I kind of don’t want to go back.” 

He understood. This place was… isolated. Peaceful. He knew, better than most, about wanting to sit in silence. To sleep forever. To let the world pass him by. He knew about feeling so weighed down, he couldn’t bring himself to move. He knew about wanting to do nothing, to feel nothing, to not let anything touch him anymore. He knew all too well. 

But sometimes, they had to force themselves to keep going. “We have to talk. We shouldn’t do it here.” 

“Ugh, fine.” Ren dragged himself to the door. “I did say I wanted answers.” 

“Sojiro’s gone. You can talk freely now.” 

Ren scrawled a note in his journal and plopped on the bed. “First off, I’m not going crazy, am I? I mean, the school really turned into a castle, I really got some sort of strange power… all of that happened?” 

“It did.” 

“I’m surprised you’re not freaking out more about this. Well, maybe not… You are a ghost.” 

Ren had a Persona now. He’d probably believe him if he told him. He could break the news gently… 

Or he could just not bother. 

He shrugged. “It helps that I’ve done this before.” 

“Wait, what?!” A pause. “Are you a time traveller or something?” 

“Oh.” He stifled a laugh. “No.” It wasn’t that unreasonable a guess, but it was so unexpected… “I mean I’ve done this Persona thing before. I awakened in… 2009, so… seven years ago now.” 

“There have been schools turning into castles for that long?” 

He shook his head. “The castle’s new. But I’ve seen something similar.” How should he explain… “A day used to be more than 24 hours.” 

“Okay, hold up.” Ren rubbed his temples. “You can’t keep saying this absolutely crazy stuff with a straight face. Or—voice, whatever.” 

His lip twitched. “At midnight, there was a hidden time called the Dark Hour. During it, the school would become a tower filled with Shadows. Most people weren’t aware because they were asleep in coffins.” 

Ren leaned forward, eyes flashing, mouth pressed shut. 

“You can ask. I’m not good at explaining.” 

The breath left Ren in a whoosh. “Good. Great. First of all, why coffins? That’s a bit morbid…” 

He huffed. “The Dark Hour was pretty morbid in general.” 

“You said ‘used to be,’ though. Past tense. Does that mean the Dark Hour doesn’t exist anymore?” 

“It’s gone.” 

“But, like… how? It couldn’t have just disappeared—At least, it probably didn’t, right?” 

“We got rid of it. SEES,” he clarified, “a group of Persona users. We had to fight a god.” 

Ren… hesitated. Bit at his lip. “Was that how you died?” 

He blinked. 

Ren shrank in on himself. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have pried—”

“It’s fine. I was planning on telling you.” But Ren had beaten him to it—he was sharp. “It’s related. I gave up my life to stop the end of the world.” 

Ren made a strangled noise. “The end of the—? Seriously? That’s crazy. That’s crazy—that’s—” Ren dissolved into muttering. 

He waited. He wasn’t tense. He wasn’t worried about Ren believing him. Well… maybe a little. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Ren finally said, head in his hands. “Fine, the end of the world, sure. Absolutely crazy, but sure. Why the heck not. My school turned into a castle—I can believe anything now.” He straightened. “This was seven years ago?” 

He exhaled. “Six. January 31, 2010.” His voice dropped. “The Fall.” 

“The Fall,” Ren repeated, just as soft, as heavy. “How does that even happen? How do you even stop something like that? What even is it?” He paused. “And how come no one knows about it, anyway? I would’ve thought there’d be some news about it…” 

“It happened during the Dark Hour. After it was gone, everyone forgot.” Even SEES. They remembered eventually, but… “The Fall is…” He shook his head. “Let’s start over. Nyx was the god we fought.” Well, her Avatar, but that wasn’t important right now. “She isn’t evil. Not really. She’s just responding to Erebus’ call. Humanity’s desire for death.” His chest twinged. He forced it down. “If they meet, they bring the Fall. To stop that, I used up my life to create a Seal between them.” 

Ren’s eyes went wide. “You… wow. Just—wow. So that’s what you meant when you said your situation was different. Wait—” He held up a hand, frowning. “Sorry, it’s just… You were supposed to be a seal forever?” 

“Looked like a door, actually.” 

Ren scowled. “That’s not much better.” He grew thoughtful. “Since we’re not all dead, shouldn’t it be fine if you’re not the Seal right now?” 

“For now, maybe. But…” His chest twisted. His hand came up to rub at it. “I can… I can still feel Erebus.” 

Ren winced. “Okay, that’s really not good.” 

“I should still be the Seal.” The Seal was still needed. “But… I’m not.” 

“Well, what do you remember about being the Seal?” 

He opened his mouth… 

And stopped. 

He… didn’t remember. He—He knew he’d been the Seal, but he couldn’t remember what that was like. What he’d done—if he’d done anything. Or if he’d been sleeping, unconscious—No, that couldn’t be it. He knew the distant ache of Erebus, so he must’ve been somewhat aware, but— 

He didn’t remember. He didn’t remember. 

“I don’t remember.” It came out hoarse. More than he wanted. “I don’t—Why don’t I remember?” 

The emptiness gnawed at him. Messiah. Messiah was missing. Messiah was gone. Even though Messiah was his, just as much as Orpheus. 

What had happened to him? 

Something welled in his throat. A cry, a gasp, a scream—he didn’t know, didn’t care. He clamped it down. Trapped it in a bubble. Sealed it away. 

“Um—”

He startled. 

Ren rubbed his neck. “Hey, I’m not—I’m still new to this Persona thing, but I can try to help. As much as I can help, at any rate.” A hesitant smile. “We’ll figure this out.” 

He let out a breath, small, silent. “It’s fine if you’re new.” His voice was even. “You’ll learn.” 

Ren chuckled. “You know, that sounds super ominous.” 

He relaxed a little. That quiet reassurance… He really was nice. Helpful. “We can talk about Persona stuff,” he offered. “So you can adjust, maybe.” 

Ren perked up. “Really? That would be awesome. Honestly, I’m still freaking out a little. I mean—” He scoffed and waved a hand. “First day of school and all this gets dumped on me, on top of everything else. It’s enough for me to think the world’s out to get me.” 

He shrugged. Persona users, from what he’d seen, never had easy lives. “Don’t know how useful it’ll be though. Things are different.” 

Ren tilted his head. “Different how?” 

“There weren’t any masks. Or outfits. And your Awakening’s… different.” Flashier. He didn’t think he had room to talk though. 

“You at least know more than me,” Ren pointed out. “I have zero idea how all this is going to go.” 

Fair enough. “How was your Awakening?” 

“My Awakening… You mean the first time I used Arsene?” 

An agreeing hum. 

Ren grimaced. “It was painful. Really painful. I felt like I was tearing my face off with the mask, not to mention the splitting headache beforehand. But it was also…” He trailed off, brow furrowed. His eyes flashed, words almost visibly weighed and discarded. “Liberating,” he finally said. “I feel like I can take on the world, now that I have Arsene by my side.” 

“That’s good.” 

“What about you? What was your Awakening like?” 

He frowned in thought. He’d never forgotten that feeling, when he first awakened. But to put it in words… 

He could start with the easy stuff. “We used Evokers. Fake guns. You had to shoot yourself in the head.” 

Ren gaped. “But—Did you know they were fake, when you awakened?” 

“No. But a creepy child told me to, so I did.” 

Ren dropped his head in his hands. “You can’t be serious. Did you have to do that every time you summoned your Persona?” 

“Yes.” 

“Crazy,” he muttered to himself. “Why did you summon like that? It’s a little…” 

“Morbid?” He shrugged. “It requires extreme stress to summon a Persona. And many people fear death.” 

“Do you?” 

Shinji. Nyx. His heart lurched. “...In a manner.” 

“Ah.” Ren fiddled with his hair. “Wait, how did you even get an Evoker anyway? They wouldn’t just be lying around, right?” 

“There was another girl when I awakened. She tried to summon, but couldn’t pull the trigger. The Evoker got knocked out of her hand.” 

“And then?” 

“I summoned my Persona for the first time.” 

“What was it like? I mean, how did you feel?” 

To put it in words… Exhilarating, but beyond that. Energizing, but more. His cheeks had hurt because he was grinning so hard, something that had never happened before. The only time he’d felt anything close was… 

Maxing his Social Links. Reaching the Universe. Realizing he could save everyone.  

“It was like coming alive. Like… living.” He paused. “Like I’d finally found the answer.” 

“The answer? To what?” 

“Life,” he said mildly. 

And maybe Ren understood. Maybe he didn’t. He only turned his gaze down and… curved his lip up. Not quite a smile. “What are you doing with someone like me, then?” 

“You’re the only one who can see me. And you said you’d help with the Seal.” 

“I did say that, huh…” Ren fingered his hair. “But to be honest, I’m… not really sure where to start.” 

He shrugged. “Same. But it’s fine.” 

“Fine? I said I’d help, but I don’t even know how.” 

“You don’t need to know how.” 

Ren blinked. “Huh?” 

He met his eyes and felt a pang—half nostalgia, half sadness. He recognized that look. This was someone who wanted to be useful. To be needed. Who felt he had to do something, act a certain way, offer something, so he’d be wanted. Give and take. 

It had been the same for him. Still was, really. It’d been how he connected with others. His Social Links were blessings, miracles. But at the start, they’d just been a means to an end. A way to get stronger Personas. Superficial. Utilitarian. They’d grown into something more, but… that transactional aspect had still carried on. 

He hadn’t realized until Bunkichi and Mitsuko had confronted him. 

It’d been… October. Middle of. After Shinji. He’d wandered near the bookstore by accident. He… didn’t want to talk or interact. Didn’t want to do anything but shut down for several hours. But he felt guilty about not visiting, so he offered to help anyway. 

They tried to talk. He snapped at them. Didn’t act at all like the nice, polite young man he knew they wanted. 

Instead of getting mad, they just ushered him into a corner and let him drift. When he came back to reality, they shoved melon bread in his hands, told him he didn’t have to force himself. He didn’t have to act a certain way around them. Be a certain type of person. He could be dreary, brooding, distant, and it wouldn’t matter. 

He’d stopped by often in December. And February. It’d been… a needed respite. 

He wasn’t sure how aware Ren was about this part of him. But it didn’t matter. He had to make it clear. Ren didn’t need to force himself. To upend his life. To do anything at all. He didn’t expect him to spend his time and energy on a ghost, a dead man. He was fine with whatever he was willing to give. He didn’t need more. 

He didn’t want more. 

“It’s…” He shaped the words in his mouth. Tested them. Pushed them out. “It’s enough. To know you’re here. To know you want to help. It… It’s enough. It means a lot.” 

It meant more than he could bring himself to say, with his fumbling words. He wasn’t alone. Even like this. Because Ren was here. For that, he was so… so… 

“Thanks,” he said. “You didn’t have to. You have your own life to live.” 

Ren rubbed his neck. “Well, I can’t just sit back and do nothing.” 

He smiled. Ren really was nice. But… “You have your own life to live,” he repeated. “So don’t go out of your way. Just help if you can. If you want.” He shrugged. “That… That’s all.” 

Ren blew out a breath, slowly. “You’re both the least and most demanding guy I’ve ever known.” 

He shrugged again. 

Ren gave a crooked smile. “Same goes to you, you know? You didn’t have to stick around, but you did. Even though I’m”—he scowled—“a dangerous criminal who should be thrown away like yesterday’s trash.” He slumped. “You’re the only person who hasn’t treated me like I’m about to stab someone at any given moment.” 

“...That’s rough.” 

Ren snorted. “Understatement of the century.” He sat back, feet tapping the floor. “But yeah. Um, I guess I can’t say that you have your own life to live, given the… unfortunate circumstances, but you get the idea. I’m hoping, anyway. What you said goes for you too.” He paused. “I just repeated myself, didn’t I? I just repeated myself. Ugh.” 

“Words.” 

“Words,” Ren agreed, sighing. “But anyway—I meant what I said. You’ve already done so much. I don’t want you to feel like you need to do more.” 

“I want to,” he assured him. Letting Ren fend for himself… No. He had to help, as best he could. 

“Are you sure? You’ve probably got better things to do than to babysit a beginner.” 

“I’m sure.” 

Ren sighed. “Fine. If you insist.” He smirked, leaning to the side. “I’ll be counting on you then, senpai.” 

A small laugh slipped out of him. 

Glass shattered. A mysterious, feminine voice rang in his head. 

I am thou, thou art I… 

Thou hast acquired a new vow. 

It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity. 

With the birth of the Universe Persona, I have obtained the wings of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power… 

He blinked. That was different. And… Universe? That was his Arcana. So did that mean he had listened in on Ren’s Social Link with him? 

Ren made a startled noise. “You—I think I can see you.” 

He blinked. “You can?” 

“Maybe not you,” Ren admitted. “But I can see… this glowing light on the couch. I’m assuming that’s where you’re standing?” 

It was. “I’m moving to the stairs and back,” he announced, and did. 

Ren’s eyes followed him. “Yeah, it’s you. Well, kind of. Maybe…” He shook his head. “No, nevermind.” 

He tilted his head but let it slide. The way Ren slouched, almost drooping… “You look tired.” 

Ren shot him a look. The eye level wasn’t quite right, but it still sent a warm jolt through him. “Is that your way of telling me to go to sleep?” 

“Go to sleep,” he deadpanned. 

Ren chuckled and shook his head. “Seriously though, why am I so tired? It’s not even dark…” 

“The Dark Hour tired us out easier. That other world might be the same.” Oh, and… “Awakening takes a lot of energy too.” Thinking about it, he was surprised Ren hadn’t dozed off already. 

Ren flopped back. “So it’s normal to want to pass out after Awakening?” 

“I actually passed out, so.” 

A pause. Then Ren groaned. “I feel like I should be surprised, but somehow I’m not. You don’t do anything by halves, do you.” 

He shrugged. He didn’t think he was that bad… 

Ren fell asleep shortly. Makoto stayed up a little longer. Waiting. For… something. Feeling out the Links. There was a new one now, Ren’s. It felt… different, somehow. Harder. Almost… darker. A heavy black chain, not a fine gold one. Still weaker than his other Links, but less… delicate. Almost crude. Held in a different space. At least it was solid now—more than just a pull, a faint feeling. 

But. Speaking of. On the day he met Ren. Didn’t something…?  

And then the pull vanished. 

He tensed, but tried to stay calm. This had happened before. Ren was fine. Ren would be fine. There was no use worrying. Especially when there was nothing he could do. 

He’d have to ask Ren. If anything happened while he was sleeping. Now that he knew about Personas… 

Oh. Wait. He forgot to ask about the dream. 

He had a lot of time to think in the interim before his meeting with Akechi. 

Oh sure, he could go looking for Akechi’s residence, but Tokyo was huge, and he wasn’t exactly keen on floating through the houses of hundreds—maybe even thousands of people, invading their privacy just to find one person. Instead, he had wandered the streets in an attempt to reacclimatize to the city, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach as hundreds of people passed by without a single reaction: no aggravated looks, no curses under their breath, and no forceful shoulder checks for blocking their way—only their gazes sliding off of him like he wasn’t even there. 

Because he wasn’t. Not for them. 

He had thought he was done with this. Feeling like he couldn’t be seen—he couldn’t—feeling like he wouldn’t be noticed—he wouldn’t—and feeling like he didn’t exist—he didn’t, not to them. He was self-aware enough, now, to recognize why it inspired such unique dread in him. But it didn’t make it easier. It didn’t make the pit in his stomach less nauseating, nor the pressure creeping up his lungs less harrowing, nor the tension in his throat less asphyxiating. It didn’t make it easier to deal with the fact that his friends and family—his wonderful, precious loved ones—were so far out of his reach that they were effectively gone. 

He missed them. He missed them fiercely. It was an ache lodged right next to the cluster of his Social Links entwined together. He wanted nothing more than to go back and see them again. 

But he knew it wouldn’t be a happy sight that greeted him. News of his death must have reached them by now. 

He was trying—he really was trying—to keep himself distracted. He was trying to keep his mind off of it, because he knew that if he stopped—if he let himself think about it—if he started dwelling on it for any length of time—he would drown. Already, the city felt a little more gray and a little more cold and a little more immense. An intimidating place—like how his seventeen-year-old self had felt shortly after having left Inaba. 

He knew his Social Links were the only reason he hadn’t already fallen apart. They were his lifeline, a way to keep himself anchored and afloat. Without them, he would have been completely adrift—even more than he already was. But he had been ripped away so suddenly and so thoroughly: cut off from his friends, forcibly distanced from the entire world, and left floundering in its wake. How could the reminder of his bonds—as precious as his bonds were—be enough to fully heal that still-gaping wound? 

He had once been willing to succumb to a lie in order to never be alone ever again. He was under no illusion as to what drove him at his core.  

At some point, he had returned to the place where he was dragged into that Shadow world by Akechi, staring at the station’s clock and trying to ignore the churning of his mind. He’d even managed to sleep—for a given definition of sleep, at any rate. At 6:30 on the dot, Akechi made his way into the station, briefcase in hand. He stopped near him, cast a quick glance around, then tapped his phone. 

Again, the world warped. He blinked the red ripples away and turned to face Akechi— 

—who was staring right at him. 

He froze, awkwardly holding his gaze. Akechi could have just been looking through him and not truly looking at him, but it felt genuine, like he was actually seeing him. But that wasn’t possible, was it? He had already established that he couldn’t be seen. 

Akechi narrowed his eyes, then stalked away. 

He followed. 

A short while later, Akechi stopped and turned towards him again. “I believe I can hear your footsteps.” 

His eyes widened. He stomped twice. The ground was solid beneath his feet—surprisingly so. 

Akechi tilted his head. “Did you just stomp the ground twice? Tap once for yes, twice for no.” 

He tapped the ground once, a smile spreading on his face. Akechi could hear him, limited though it was. They could set up a method of communication that was faster than just writing. 

A slight smirk crossed Akechi’s face, half-hidden by his mask. “Good. That makes this easier.” The smirk dropped, and he turned on his heel. “I know of a place where we won’t be interrupted by any unfortunate surprises. We can talk there.” Without waiting for an answer, he strode off. 

He frowned but went after him. Akechi wasn’t one to follow orders, was he? 

Or maybe he’s used to working alone, a voice deep inside him whispered. He gently nudged it aside. This was all speculation anyway; he didn’t know Akechi well enough to determine which was the truth. 

Akechi traversed the winding tracks, evading or eliminating Shadows along the way, and went down a few defunct escalators to what appeared to be a single waiting area at a deserted station. The booth was hollowed out and empty; the two lines of chairs were abandoned at the sides; there was even a solitary no-smoking sign hung up on an otherwise vacant glass window. Outside, the walls—even the air and atmosphere—were a startling shade of deep blue, almost but a little too dark to be the same as the Velvet Room. Still, it was similar enough to make him feel somewhat—but only somewhat—more settled. 

“Shadows don’t seem to attack here,” Akechi explained. “And I’ve never had that dangerous Shadow come here either.” 

That was convenient; the TV World never had anything similar, at least not within the Dungeons themselves. Then again, from what little he’d seen, this place seemed enormous, far bigger than the Dungeons. Was this some sort of… built-in safeguard? That seemed strange; why would whatever forces involved in the workings of this place care about the wellbeing of a few potential explorers? So then, what other explanation could there be…? 

Akechi sat in a chair, pulled out his briefcase from what appeared to be thin air, and took out a notebook and pencil. “I figured this would help with our discussion.” 

He raised an eyebrow. Akechi was surprisingly accommodating… for the perpetrator of the breakdowns and shutdowns. At the reminder, his expression flattened, and he tried to pick up the items. 

It… actually worked! It was enough for him to give a small smile and quickly write Thank you. 

Akechi squinted and leaned closer. “Your handwriting is tiny,” he scowled, voice practically caked with derision. 

He snorted. Ironic that the second coming of the ‘Detective Prince’ was saying this; he’d seen Naoto’s notes, and they were page-to-page filled with letters even smaller than his. 

Following Akechi’s lead, Yu sat in a chair across from him and started writing. We can take turns. Would that be alright? 

Akechi gave a curt nod. His left hand was still curled around his sword; hopefully, they could work on that. “You mentioned an entity who gave you your Persona. When and how did this happen?” 

He tilted his head. He could nitpick and say that was two questions in one, but he would let it slide this time. Five years ago, when I first moved into—He couldn’t mention names—the town I’d be living in for the year, I shook hands with a gas station attendant. Turns out that attendant was a god in disguise, who tried to—Was ‘flood the world with fog’ too specific? Better to be safe—turn everyone into Shadows because she believed that was what humanity desired.  

“But why did this god give you the power to use a Persona in the first place?” 

He tapped take turns with the pencil. 

Akechi visibly held back a growl. “Fine. What is your question?” 

He rolled the pencil under his finger to show that he was thinking. What to ask first? Should he get straight to the heart of the matter and ask about the psychotic breakdowns and mental shutdowns? Or maybe why Akechi was causing them in the first place? He didn’t think he would get a straight answer if he asked that… Maybe later, when they had more of an understanding of each other. For now… What do you know about this place? 

“It’s called Mementos. I can access it through an app on my phone. It contains the Shadows of the general public, representations of their inner thoughts and desires. Now, answer my question.” 

He made a mental note that Akechi was rather demanding. The god wanted to learn and carry out humanity’s true desire, so she gave three people representing different concepts access to another world, which reflected the hearts of the public—a world of the collective unconscious, if you will. The ability to use a Persona was just a natural consequence of that access. 

“And that somehow led to that ‘god’ deciding to turn everyone into Shadows.” 

He tapped the ground once. Emptiness ‘won,’ so she assumed that mankind desired to live an empty life, rejecting reality and the unpleasantness of the world. He paused and added, You owe me two answers.  

Akechi scowled, his fist clenched tight around his sword. His body was coiled like a spring, ready to snap into action at any given moment. Whether to bolt or to skewer him, he couldn’t tell, but Akechi’s ferocious glare pointed toward the latter. 

He sighed silently. Was that simple wariness or a hint at something else? The more he interacted with him, the more he wondered… although Naoto and Yosuke in particular would probably chew him out for being too sympathetic to a murderer—the perpetrator of the breakdowns and shutdowns, no less. 

Still, he had this… nagging feeling. A hunch that there was more going on—more than what he could see, and maybe even more than what either of them could see. A hunch that there was something not quite right with the situation, which only grew as time passed. If there was anything he had learned during his time in Inaba, it was to trust his hunches. 

So what did he know? The psychotic breakdowns were Akechi’s unique power—most likely a result of that ‘Call of Chaos’ skill from his Persona, Loki. This distorted subway was Mementos, a place like the TV World filled with both generic and human Shadows. Akechi entered this place via a phone app to cause breakdowns—and presumably the shutdowns as well. 

What did he need to still find out? A lot of things. A lot of things. So what could he ask without setting Akechi more on edge? He didn’t want to provoke Akechi into taking a rash action, after all. He already knew he couldn’t ask why Akechi was causing the incidents, and it probably wasn’t a good idea to ask how he caused the shutdowns either, at least right now. When did he awaken his Persona? That was a question that could potentially touch on some personal topics, and he could already tell that Akechi wasn’t exactly receptive to sharing—so other questions about when he gained access to this world were also out. What about who—or what—had given him access to this place…? 

There was the marginally safer topic. That phone app you mentioned—do you know who gave you it? 

“No,” Akechi said curtly. His brow was still creased, but it was less… angry, if he was reading him right. At the very least, it was a little less intensely directed at him. 

Then how did you get it? 

“It just showed up on my phone one day.” Oh, that expression… Akechi was unsettled. Almost immediately after, he wiped it off his face and straightened. “My turn. When did you awaken your Persona?” 

When I was sixteen, early in my second year of high school. If Akechi was asking, he must have expected the same question to be turned on him. And you?  

“Almost two years ago.” 

Almost two…? Then—wait, how old was Akechi now—? 

“What is your Persona?” 

He tabled the question. Focus. He could pry answers—and any repressed emotions—out of him later. 

Izanagi. He didn’t see a point in hiding it; Akechi had likely asked to glean information about his personality and motives, but he had no intention of hiding those things. Your Persona—Loki—what element is it? 

Akechi’s expression deliberately stilled. “Curse. And yours?” 

He raised an eyebrow. Curse…? He hadn’t heard of it before. Was it like Dark? If so, why the different name? Electricity, though he can use most of the other elements too. Including Almighty, but he would save that information for another day… since Akechi was also hiding something. Have you seen any other Persona users? 

“No,” Akechi stated, glancing pointedly around the obviously empty station. “Should I have? Don’t answer that,” he added with a scowl. 

He withheld a smile. Yes, he supposed it was obvious with Akechi’s demeanor and the emptiness of Mementos, but it didn’t hurt to make sure. Besides… a part of him wanted to mess with Akechi just a little; it was unfairly tempting. Rise would probably call him a troll. 

But he had to stay serious. Akechi was dangerous, and no matter his sympathetic or even companionable feelings, Akechi wasn’t a friend. 

How foolish, Izanagi muttered. 

He blinked twice. ...What? 

Thou means that the boy is not a friend… yet. Or dost thou deny that thou already feels a connection to him? 

Of course not. We formed a Social Link with him. Those go both ways.  

Perhaps. But thou reached out to him from the start while knowing what he is. 

I did, he acknowledged. Why are you bringing this up? 

Thou art lonely. 

He flinched. The ache flared, bright and intense, temporarily arresting control of his body. 

Thou may not be alone, not while thou hast thy Social Links, but thou feels alone, and that is what matters. So thou reaches out to that boy, the one person who can interact with thee, in hopes to alleviate the pain that thou wished to never feel again. A foolhardy action by the consideration of most, but one that thou takes nonetheless. 

He winced. Izanagi might have been his Persona, but he was also his Shadow. And he had never been one to hold back. I know. 

Dost thou truly know? Izanagi continued relentlessly. Dost thou truly understand the magnitude of what thou runs from? Even now, thou refuses to think of it, refuses to ponder the ramifications of the reality that thou now lives in! 

His lips pressed together. I know that I’m running. And I know what I’m running from. His thoughts drifted, but he hastily diverted their course. 

Izanagi buzzed angrily, lightning crackling in his ears. Thou cannot run forever.  

I know. He closed his eyes. I know. And I’m sorry. Please give me more time. I’m not—I’m not ready yet.  

Thou will never be ready, Izanagi warned. 

He knew. But god, he was so afraid. It was an almost physical thing, that fear, looming in the corners of his mind like a boogeyman in the dark. He knew he would have to confront it at some point, but one wrong move, one stray thought, and he would plunge headfirst toward a pain he wasn’t sure he was ready to face. Not… alone. Not without… 

He didn’t dare finish the thought. 

Izanagi sighed. Very well. I shall comply for now. He retreated to the depths of his soul, still buzzing irritably. 

He exhaled—and became abruptly aware of Akechi glaring at him.

Sorry, he wrote. If you asked something and I didn’t hear you. I was having… an involved discussion with my Persona. More like an argument or a reprimand, but Akechi certainly did not need to know that. 

Akechi’s gaze flattened. “So yours do that too,” he muttered under his breath. “Do they ever shut up?”

He knew the question was rhetorical, but he tapped the ground twice anyway. Akechi’s gaze snapped towards him. 

A free answer, he wrote. Take it as an apology. It was rude to let his own personal issues intrude on the conversation. What was your question? 

“You were the one who insisted on an equal exchange,” Akechi started. “And yet you broke your own rules so easily.” 

I feel bad, he offered. 

Akechi’s expression twisted into a snarl. “Don’t pity me.” 

I’m not. He wasn’t quite sure how Akechi had arrived at that conclusion, nor what it said about him that he had arrived at it so quickly. It was my fault, and I feel bad for it, so I want to apologize. 

“Ridiculous,” Akechi muttered, still bristling, but at least he didn’t attack him or have another outburst. “How many other Persona users do you know of?” 

He frowned, counting them out in his head. Eight in the Investigation Team, another… eight—no, nine with the Shadow Operatives, Adachi, and Sho. Minus himself, that was… Eighteen others, seven of whom fought with me against that god I mentioned earlier.  

Come to think of it, where were the Shadow Operatives? Tokyo was a major city, and the breakdowns and shutdowns must have caught their attention at some point. Mitsuru-san was nothing if not thorough; she would have followed up with an investigation, and as the head of the Kirijo Group, she had plenty of resources at her disposal. So why had they not discovered this place? 

...Why had he not heard from them in months? 

He hadn’t thought much of it, since they contacted each other rather infrequently—only every few months to catch up, exchange news, and discuss the prospect of joining one day. But now… 

Naoto’s inability to enter Tokyo. The Shadow Operatives’ silence. This conspicuously empty Shadow world, growing like a tumor deep within the subways. 

He did not like the picture this was starting to form. 

Under whose orders are you causing the breakdowns and shutdowns? 

“How the hell do you know that?” 

He glanced at Akechi’s expression—something akin to shock or anger approaching disgust—and pressed his lips together. So he was right. Circumstantial evidence. Namely the fact that the Persona users I know of haven’t stopped you yet, which means they either haven’t discovered this place, are being deliberately obstructed, or both. And no teenager has that kind of power. 

Akechi drew himself up. “And what makes you think that?” 

The pit in his stomach only grew. That arrogance would lead to his doom if he didn’t keep it in check. Maybe it already had. This teen—still a kid, really—had been causing the breakdowns and shutdowns for two years. Was this how he had started? With the belief that no one could stop him? They formed an official organization dedicated to exterminating Shadows and dealing with Persona-related issues, backed by an immensely powerful corporation. I reiterate—no teenager alone has the power to stop them. Not even a Persona user.  

Akechi’s scowl deepened, but he didn’t move. His hand had a vice grip on his sword. 

He grimaced. Time to back off slightly. Do you not want to answer? I can ask a different question.  

Akechi’s eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare insinuate that I have any desire to protect that man. His name is Masayoshi Shido, and I will personally thrust him into a living hell.” 

...He touched a nerve. Maybe it would be better to end things here. 

Akechi bared his teeth. “And don’t think I don’t know what you are doing. I told you. I don’t. Need. Your pity.” 

Well… there went that idea. If he made any overt moves to let up, Akechi would lash out, potentially violently. 

And here he had been trying to avoid turning this exchange into a convoluted mental chess match. Not that he had been doing a good job at that anyway. 

“I believe it is still your turn, given all your generous answers,” Akechi snarled. 

He sighed. It seemed he had no choice but to keep pushing. Fine. If that was what Akechi wanted… How do you cause the mental shutdowns? 

Was it his imagination, or did Akechi almost seem to… brace himself? “You kill the Shadow of a human.” 

Kill. It took his mind a moment too long to truly comprehend the implications. Kill. Not just defeat. Kill. 

Then, if he had gone too far when fighting the Shadows of his friends… 

It was chilling. The possibility that he had been so close to unknowingly… to his dearest friends—! 

Did Akechi know? When he caused his first mental shutdown? It would have been so easy to cause one on accident. It would have been so easy to come to all the wrong conclusions. After all, it didn’t matter how many Lying Hableries, Magic Hands, or other generic Shadows one defeated; there were always more, respawning in endless droves. It would have been so easy to assume that the same would apply to human Shadows. Especially if… 

He felt exhausted all of a sudden. Can we stop here for today? You’ve given me a lot to think about.  

“What, you think I can’t handle any more sensitive topics? Afraid of bruising my feelings? Save it for someone who gives a shit.” 

The energy drained out of him. God, he did not have the mental capacity for this right now. Why was Akechi always trying to pick a fight? I’m sure you could keep going, but I need a break.  

Akechi’s lip curled—in disgust or scorn, most likely. “And here I thought you wanted to find the ‘truth.’ Or are you really so fragile as to need a break after asking a few simple questions?” 

I died, he wrote blandly, with none of his usual humor. The crackle of Izanagi’s lightning echoed in his ears. Sorry if I’m still trying to process everything. 

After a slight pause, Akechi stood. “Then it seems we are done here.” 

He stood and… Oh, he almost forgot. He tapped the pencil against the notebook to get Akechi’s attention. I’ll be following you to your home. Is that alright? 

Akechi scowled. “Why do you even need to ask? I’m sure you could do it regardless of my wishes.” 

Just letting you know. Besides, it’s common courtesy. 

Akechi scoffed. “Do as you wish. It’s not as though I can stop you.” 

He managed a weak smile and handed over the pencil and notebook to Akechi. 

Akechi raised an eyebrow. “Why—Ah, you can’t hold onto things in the real world, can you.”

He tapped the ground once. It could attract unwanted attention if two random objects suddenly dropped down from midair upon entering the real world. 

With a huff, Akechi pulled out his briefcase—from thin air again, how did he do that?—tucked the items away, and marched off. 

They ran into several Shadows along the way, more than they had while descending. Akechi threw himself at every last one, slaughtering them with a fierce expression that nearly split his face. Apparently, even the Shadows were unnerved; by the second floor, they were all trying to run away when they caught sight of him. 

Akechi merely kept hounding after them. He was almost certainly going out of his way to find Shadows to massacre. Only Sho had ever been that bloodthirsty. 

Yu trailed behind, vigilant but—strangely—not particularly concerned. Either some part of him must have seen this coming or he was far too mentally spent to give a care. 

Honestly, he was more worried about Mementos; even by Shadow world standards, it felt so… wrong. A faint tension needling his skin, a lingering tang of sickeningly sweet poison, and a hollow echo of cruel whispers… Not even the fog had raised his hackles like this. 

Be careful. 

He frowned. Izanagi? What’s wrong? 

Izanagi shifted. I dislike this place. It is a perversion of all that we stand for. There may be truth here, but it is rotten and decayed—a deceit in its own right.  

In other words, this place was a half-truth meant to mislead. But for what purpose…? 

No, later. He could ponder this later. 

Izanagi gave an aggravated sigh, but didn’t say anything more. 

After they exited Mementos, Akechi plastered on a calm, innocent expression—had it always looked so fake?—and took the trains to a nondescript building in some residential area. It was dark by now, almost pitch black, but Akechi didn’t falter in his pace. 

“Make yourself at home or whatever,” Akechi muttered under his breath, and he opened the door. 

He stepped in and turned his gaze around. The apartment was… small. And bare. Other than the plain walls, a desk, and a chair, there was nothing: no furniture, no decoration, no personal belongings, nothing. There was a disturbingly spotless kitchen off to the side, packed with a single kettle and a tiny fridge. 

Not even his various residences over the years had been like this. Admittedly, half of it was due to his parents’ insistence on collecting study materials and filling bookshelves, but… 

Akechi locked the door behind him and headed towards the desk without another sound. 

He frowned at his retreating back. No welcome? His brain couldn’t decide whether that was rude… or odd. 

He thought maybe he was getting a little too concerned.

He entered the kitchen and made a half-hearted attempt to open the fridge, but—as he expected—his hand phased through. Somehow, though, he didn’t expect there to be much inside of it anyway. Even so, his fingers still itched to grab a pot or pan and get to work. 

Come to think of it, he hadn’t cooked anything in a while… The last time was with— 

With Nanako. In Inaba. And then he took that train— 

He aggressively shook the thought away and continued poking around the kitchen. If he focused, he thought he could hear Izanagi grumble, but it was more muted now that they were in the real world. Distracted, his gaze drifted over towards the vent staring into the other room. 

A camera lens stared back at him. 

His blood ran cold. He took a few steps closer. Yes, it was still there. He glanced back at Akechi, then to the camera again. Did he know? 

On a whim, he poked the camera. 

When nothing happened, he wandered over to Akechi. He was writing something at his desk, and his briefcase was set to the side, unopened. He wore a face of extreme concentration, in preparation to grind for several more hours; it didn’t seem likely that he would be going anywhere else for a long while. 

The smartest course of action right now would be to go to sleep. He wasn’t… capable of doing much in this state. But where was he going to sleep? The floor? Well, he supposed it didn’t matter all that much, since he was… he was… 

He was not going to be thinking about this; he was going to sleep. On the floor, because this place was so bare that there wasn’t even a couch or an extra chair or…  

He thought he could hear Izanagi laughing at him, the jerk. He mentally pouted at him and started counting down from one thousand to calm his thoughts enough to fall asleep.

Now, if only he could stop thinking about what he knew about Akechi, the barren apartment, and the camera—and how much he did not like the picture that they were starting to form.