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~*~
Somewhere in the fog, church bells are ringing.
Hear them, thundering, through the darkness and the gloom.
Some people believe that faith should be proclaimed. That it should blare out in the ringing of trumpets, shouted from rooftops, proudly declared in the city streets. That faith is found, in the song, in the voice, in the word.
Some believe, however, that faith is found in silence. That if you can quiet your mind, listen past your thoughts, your breathing, your heartbeat, and the incessant ringing of the bells…
If you can push past the noise, in that stillness lies the divine.
I will not tell you what to believe. I am no one to speak of gods.
But I will say, if you can push past the sound of the bells…
In that stillness, there is a voice.
Listen.
Can you hear it?
~*~
Morning in the Metaverse, not that anyone could tell. There was no sun to mark the hour, no birds singing in greeting. There was only the faint but persistent sound of distant voices raised in prayer, echoing through the stone halls, and Shiho’s Shadow, making muted small talk as Shiho helped her into her dress.
The dress was not at all the sort Shiho would have picked out for herself. It was strapless, for one thing. Shiho didn’t think she was quite ready to show that much skin. For another, it was a very simple, plain white dress. No frills.
Her Shadow turned, clasping her hands shyly in front of her. Her cheeks were red and puffy. But her eyes were a vivid gold.
“How do I look?” She asked, softly.
Like a virgin sacrifice, Shiho wanted to say.
“Beautiful,” she said instead.
~*~
The Sunken Cathedral was a Palace only in the strictest sense of the word. It might have been beautiful, once. Opulent, even. Huge, vaulted arches, stone pillars, sculpted gargoyles, stained glass windows, chandeliers, rows and rows of candelabra…
As Yusuke would say, it had all the components of a masterpiece. But it was missing a certain… essence.
Perhaps it was because this was where Shiho was being held captive, and no amount of fine craftsmanship would ever make up for that. Or perhaps it was because this cathedral, marvel of architecture or not, had been built in the middle of a swamp, and was slowly sinking into the mud.
The Phantom Thieves were scoping out their target from a vantage point a safe distance away, with Makoto doing the literal scoping. She was peering through a pocket scope, clicking as she adjusted the focus. If anybody was wondering how Makoto had gotten her hands on a set of military-grade monoculars, they sure weren’t saying anything.
But it didn’t take a scope to see that the Sunken Cathedral was a dirty, stinking ruin. Its vast stonework was dark and splotchy from years of caked-on grime, and the church courtyard was overgrown, choked with weeds, mud oozing up through the gaps in the stone.
“Nice place for a wedding,” Makoto muttered, adjusting the dial on her scope.
“It has a certain antique charm,” Yusuke said, and no one could tell if he was joking.
“What a dump,” Ryuji said. “This is Shiho’s Palace?”
“No, it’s not,” Morgana said. “She was only taken here against her will. This Palace belongs to the guy who took her.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Ann said, her voice low. “We’re going to get her out.”
“Damn right,” Ryuji said, bumping an elbow against Ann’s. He looked up at the cathedral. “Still… I wonder what this says about the guy who made this place.”
“A crumbling, ruined church sinking into a swamp…” Akira mused, hands in his pockets. He blinked. “Hey, Ryuji.”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe his faith has a weak foundation.”
“Ayyyyyy-”
“Ayyyyyy-”
“Quiet!” Makoto snapped. She swept her aim, scope clicking, while Akira and Ryuji stifled their snickers.
Unfortunately, Makoto’s call for quiet was in vain. Above them, through the mud, and the trees, and the cathedral’s stone halls, church bells began to ring.
~*~
The bells rang with a vigor that rattled Shiho’s bones and sent the stonework of the tower shivering. Shiho cringed and clapped her hands over her ears. They were dreadfully loud. But despite the thunderous noise, Shiho’s Shadow simply caught her gaze, staring at her with those eerie golden eyes.
Shiho gasped.
Something was wrong.
Obviously, this whole scenario was wrong, Shiho knew. Getting stolen away from Shibuya was wrong. Being taken down hellish subway tunnels to this inexplicable, swampy cathedral was wrong. Meeting her doppelganger and helping her get ready for a wedding was wrong.
But now, seeing threads of inky darkness spread through her Shadow’s golden eyes…
Something was very wrong.
The last great clang of the church bells echoed across the square and faded away. Shiho’s Shadow took a shuddering, terrified breath.
“It’s time,” she gasped, fear wide in her eyes. “It’s over…”
There was a rush of wind, and the beating of mighty wings. From one moment to the next, Shiho and her Shadow were surrounded by angels with gray skin and black wings. They wore red armor, scuffed and scratched, and bore spears in their hands. Four of them perched in the arched stone windows of the belltower, while four more marched up from the stairs below.
Each one of them had a mass of empty darkness where their eyes should have been.
“It’s time,” they chorused. Shiho’s Shadow hung her head in resignation and despair.
Shiho balled her fists.
“No!” Shiho snapped, surprising herself with the force of her own outburst. “You can’t give up! You don’t have to do this!”
A Power shoved her aside with the haft of his spear. Shiho’s Shadow bowed her head and shuffled down the tower steps, four empty-eyed angels providing a menacing escort.
“No one will come,” her Shadow was whispering. “No one will come…”
Shiho felt a sharp ache in her calves. She sank to the floor, watching helplessly as the angels in red armor ushered her doppelganger away. She hissed in wordless frustration, pounding a fist into the wooden floor.
A shadow fell across her from the open window. Shiho grit her teeth.
“Isn’t she a little young for you?” Shiho spat.
In the stone arch of the tower window stood an angel- pompous, arrogant, his smug expression shining through despite the blindfold over his eyes. He had sickly gray skin, black-feathered wings, and his long, dark hair was greasy and unkempt. He wore a stained white robe beneath an outer coat of twitching, living shadow, that trailed out behind him like a bridal train.
Herald Mastema. Shiho’s captor. Shadow Shiho’s lucky groom.
Mastema’s gray lips curled into an infuriatingly smug smile.
“My dear,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “That’s no way to talk during a wedding.”
“Screw you,” Shiho spat. Mastema lunged forward, grabbing hold of her chin with a dirty hand.
“I’m looking forward to it,” he said, mouth open in a toothy, lecherous grin.
The toe of Shiho’s boot cracked into his chin and snapped his jaw shut. Mastema recoiled, clutching at his face. A line of treacly black blood dribbled down the side of his mouth.
“I hope you bite your tongue in two,” Shiho growled, anger and revulsion igniting her veins. Her kick sent a sharp jolt of pain through her sensitive legs, but she didn’t regret it for an instant.
The crack to Mastema’s composure- and to his jaw- only lasted for a moment. He gestured, and tendrils of darkness shot out from the folds of his cloak. They wrapped around Shiho and squeezed, pinning her arms behind her back.
When the wave of darkness receded back into the swirling depths of Mastema’s cloak, Shiho was sitting in a crude metal chair, bound tight by ropes of living shadow. Mastema hooked a hand around the back of the chair and lifted her up. He set her down at a balcony overlooking the church courtyard, the chair’s legs hitting the floor with a bang that rattled Shiho’s bones.
“You shouldn’t be so sour,” Mastema said softly. He traced a finger along the curve of Shiho’s shoulder and up the back of her neck, in a way that made her skin crawl.
“The ceremony is about to begin,” Mastema continued. He grabbed a fistful of Shiho’s hair and jerked her gaze towards the courtyard below. Shiho yelped in pain, seething at his touch.
“It’s your special day,” Mastema said, smiling. “And you have the best seat in the house.”
~*~
“I’ve got ‘em,” Makoto said, adjusting her scope as the sound of church bells echoed across the fog. “The angel that fought you in Mementos. And… two Shihos.”
Akira blinked. “What?”
“You heard me,” Makoto shrugged. “There’s one tied up in the belltower. A squad of angels is hustling the other one away. My guess is down to the courtyard, for the, ugh, ceremony.”
“I don’t understand,” Yusuke said. “Why two?”
“One of them could be a cognitive projection,” Morgana explained. “A reflection of how the owner of this Palace sees Shiho.”
“It’s like Kamoshida and his weird fantasy-Ann,” Akira muttered.
“So is this Shiho wearing a bikini, too?”
Every one of Ryuji’s companions stopped and turned to glare at him. He cringed, shrinking away from the weight of their combined scorn.
“...Not funny. Gotcha.”
“She isn’t, for your information,” Makoto said, rolling her eyes. “She’s wearing a wedding dress.”
"Somehow, that seems worse," Akira muttered.
“How do we know which Shiho is ours?” Ryuji asked.
“I’ll know,” Ann cut in.
“That falls to the owner of this Palace,” Yusuke said. “Does he perceive Shiho as a bride, or a prisoner?”
“He might not see the difference,” Makoto muttered darkly.
Ann growled and clenched her fists. Vaguely, she felt a hand squeezing her shoulder- Ryuji’s. She caught his eyes for a moment, before looking up at Akira.
“What’s the plan?” She asked.
Akira took a deep breath.
“We’ll go after both of them,” Akira said, resolute. “Morgana and I will take the tower. You four, the front door. Makoto, you’re in charge.”
Makoto nodded. “Understood.”
“Alright,” Akira grinned, tightening a glove. “Let’s be heretics.”
~*~
In another time, in another life, this wedding could have been beautiful. Again, as Yusuke would say, it had all the components: an outdoor wedding in the middle of the summer; arched trellises covered in flowers and climbing ivy; actual angels staffing the venue. It was a twisted reflection of the wedding Shiho had always dreamed of, a fairy tale wedding hanging inverted in a dirty pool.
There was no sunlight, only fog. The summer heat was swampy and stifling. The angels in attendance weren’t the type to lounge on clouds and play harps- they were there in full armor, bearing shields and spears. And in a typical wedding, at least, the pastor wasn’t also the groom.
Perhaps the most unsettling component of this wedding was the congregation. They filled the courtyard’s bench seating, all of them dressed in their Sunday best; but their faces were blank, featureless, made of smooth plastic. The faceless, plastic crowd sat with their gaze fixed forward on the altar, a mockery of a congregation. They were just mannequins. Pawns.
Mastema stood at the altar, his back to the congregation, basking in the non-existent sunlight. He opened his arms, a beatific expression on his face. He reveled in his own theatrics, not caring at all that his own guards were the only ones there to see it.
Mastema turned in a grand gesture, his long outer cloak dusting the steps of the podium.
“Dearly beloved!” He called out, a wild grin on his face. “We are gathered here today in the sight of a false god, and those rebel angels who still keep the true faith, to bear witness to the union of Shiho Suzui, and her duty to God.”
Music began to play, from somewhere within the ruined cathedral. Shiho’s Shadow appeared at the top of the aisle, escorted not by her father, but by a red-armored Power with black, empty eyes.
She marched up to the altar, shoved forward by her escort’s shield every time her next step took just a little too long. A pipe organ was playing, squealing, discordant. It sounded less like a wedding march and more like the wailing of the trumpet on Judgment Day.
The congregation did not rise at her approach. They kept their blank gazes fixed forward, barely noticing her at all.
Today wasn’t about her. It was never about her.
Mastema stepped down from the podium and took Shadow Shiho’s hands in his. He drew back her veil, in a gesture approaching tenderness.
Then Mastema held an open hand before her eyes, and Shiho’s Shadow jolted upright, her eyes fixed on the skin of his palm. She whimpered, her whole body rigid, as spots of inky darkness spread across her golden eyes.
“Vow to me,” Mastema said, as Shadow Shiho’s form flickered and skipped like an old film reel.
“Vow to me!” Mastema cried. “Vow before me and this domain’s false God that I shall be the one whom you love, honor, and obey!”
~*~
Shiho shuddered as, once again, the bells began to ring. They rang of their own will, each clanging toll rattling her bones. She cringed, ducking down and trying to shield her ears with her shoulders, to little avail. The tolling bells shivered the tower, each reverberating clang sending a chill up Shiho’s spine.
Shiho could still feel the dreadful stain of Mastema’s hands on her, a pale echo of Kamoshida four months ago. Sitting here in the belltower of this cathedral felt like a twisted fairy tale retelling of how she felt the night Kamoshida had taken her; trapped and numb, watching herself and her trauma from somewhere far away. It was like being invisible; a ghost.
All she could do was watch.
Is that what Mastema wanted? This spectacle? This humiliation?
If all he wanted was for her to ‘bear witness’, then she’d rather die than give him that satisfaction.
So much of her life until now had already been decided by men who thought they knew better than she did. Coaches. Teachers. Doctors. When did any of them ask what she had to say about her own life? When was she ever given a choice?
She chose to step off the roof of Shujin. She chose to switch schools, so she wouldn’t come back.
Is it really a choice if it’s one that’s made for you?
Is it really a choice if it’s the only one left?
Mastema’s voice rang out across the square, not quite drowned out by the tolling of the bells. This is the performance Mastema has set up for himself. This is the moment that pompous bastard expects all eyes to be on him.
Well, he won’t have them all.
Shiho screwed her eyes shut until splotches of color danced across her vision, like the flash of shapes and shadows that comes whenever someone mentions her trauma and her dissociation kicks in.
But this wasn’t an episode.
This was her choice.
~*~
On the other side of the cathedral grounds, the gates exploded.
They flew off their hinges in a blaze of blue fire, slamming down on the paving stones with a shriek of metal. The arched metal gateway stood, weeping smoke.
A patrol of Powers stepped forward, shields raised.
Something shot between them, too fast for them to see.
A wave of force followed it. Seiten Taisei, the Monkey King, charged in on his flying cloud and swung his staff. The two guards at the gate smashed down onto the pavement, their shields shattered. They staggered to their feet, dazed. A crack of a baseball bat, the song of a blade, and the two angels hit the ground.
Johanna shot across the courtyard, a polished silver bullet trailing red fire. Ann hugged one arm around Makoto’s waist, the other channeling a cone of red flame. The wave of magical fire trailed before them, flying like a banner in the wind.
Makoto slammed Johanna into a sharp turn, scoring a shining blue glyph in the ground. Ann’s flames surged around in a wide arc, Makoto’s joining hers, searing red entwined with pulsing blue. Red fire cascaded across the patrol, setting them alight, breaking their guard. An instant later, the blue shockwave reduced them to ash.
Makoto and Ann stood, haloed by firelight. Ryuji and Yusuke stepped up to join them.
A squad of guards, dealt with. A courtyard in flames.
All this, in less than a minute.
“Doesn’t it feel good to go in guns blazing, for once?” Ryuji grinned. Already, they could hear the clanking of spears and shields, the beating of wings, the shouts of alarm ringing down the square.
“It seems a task for which you’re perfectly suited,” Yusuke mused.
“Agreed,” Makoto said. “If all we can do is keep eyes on us instead of Akira, I’ll be happy. Ryuji? Take the lead.”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” Ryuji said, smacking his bat into his palm. “Let’s make some noise!”
Ryuji charged into the fray, Yusuke close behind.
Ann lingered, pensive, her eyes glinting in the firelight.
Makoto tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. Ann jumped.
“She’s going to be alright,” Makoto said gently.
“I know. I know.” Ann sighed. Makoto leaned in, searching her eyes.
“...You wish you were the one climbing the belltower,” Makoto said, “don’t you?”
“Akira knows what he’s doing,” Ann said. She took Makoto’s hand and squeezed. “I trust him with my life.”
“Sure,” Makoto said. “But do you trust him with Shiho’s?”
~*~
The church bells had a mind of their own- ringing of their own accord, with no rhyme or reason save the whims of the Cathedral’s master. Mastema, narcissist as he was, would never use his church bells for something so mundane as ringing the hour. They served only as a backdrop to whatever performance he was putting on in the courtyard below; the one Shiho was pointedly not watching.
But as the last toll of the bells faded into the distance, mayhem erupted from the square. Sharp bangs, shrieking metal, heavy, dense impacts. Shiho opened one eye, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Then a gloved hand clamped over her mouth.
Shiho jumped, her senses flaring in alarm, echoes of a night four months ago- a hand over her mouth, a voice in her ear-
“Shiho,” they whispered. “Shiho, don’t scream. It’s just me.”
Shiho took a shuddering breath. She blinked. “Kurusu?”
“Yeah. Hold still for a sec,” Akira said. He drew a knife up the back of Shiho’s chair, cutting the mass of shadow as if it were black velvet, before kneeling to do the same for Shiho’s ankles.
Shiho freed her arms and rolled her shoulders, aching from her hands being bound behind her back. She blinked, taking in Akira’s bird mask, high-collared long coat, double-breasted vest, and striking red gloves.
“Why do you look so… weird?” Shiho asked.
Akira smiled. “The coat’s a bit much, isn’t it?”
“Don’t forget the shoes,” Morgana chimed in.
Akira clapped a hand over Shiho’s mouth an instant before she screamed.
“A mofter caf!” Shiho said into Akira’s palm.
“I’m not a monster cat!” Morgana insisted.
“Listen, Shiho,” Akira said. “It’s a real long story, so I’ll try to explain on the way. For now, though, all you need to know is that I have a team raising hell in the courtyard, and that we’re all here to get you out.”
Shiho hesitated.
“Is, um… Is Ann with you?”
“See for yourself,” Akira said. He gestured to the balcony.
Shiho leaned forward and gazed down at the courtyard, her eyes growing wide…
~*~
Ann danced through the courtyard’s chaotic melee, curling around a thrusting spear and into a Power’s embrace. She unclipped the SMG from her belt and fired a burst into the angel’s gut, dropping him in a spray of chipped armor and dark, treacly blood.
She raised her aim, firing another burst that sparked off of another Power’s shield. Ryuji’s shotgun roared beside her, the blast jarring the angel’s shield from his grip. Then Yusuke nimbly darted in and neatly bisected the Power in a sword slash from shoulder to hip, darting away so quickly Ann lost him in the crowd.
There was a shriek of metal as a Power’s spear scraped across Ryuji’s back, cutting a gouge into his armor and narrowly avoiding skewering him through the throat. Ann hurled a fireball into the angel’s face, an instant before Ryuji took its head off with a shotgun blast.
Ryuji took a ragged breath and stopped to reload. Ann pressed her back up against his, SMG in one hand, channeled fire in another.
“How you doin’?” Ann asked.
Ryuji grinned at her, despite everything. “Piece of cake.”
“I’m gonna need one, once we get through this,” Ann growled, yanking Ryuji down as a thrown spear sailed over their heads.
“I’m buyin’, then,” Ryuji said. He blasted open a Power’s guard so Yusuke could dart in for the kill. “Soon as we get Shiho outta here.”
“Promise?” Ann asked. She slapped a javelin out of the air with a curl of flame.
“Promise,” Ryuji said.
An angel shot down in a steep dive. Ann and Ryuji broke apart just as its shield slammed into the ground between them, the shockwave knocking them off their feet.
The Power whirled on Ryuji, drawing his sidearm and bringing it down in one smooth motion. Ryuji raised his shotgun in a panicked block, the angel’s gladius wedging into the metal. Ryuji’s arms shook under the angel’s inhuman strength.
Makoto took a running leap and curled her hands around the Power’s head. She twisted sharply and stuck the landing, breaking the angel’s neck and spinning his corpse onto the paving stones.
Another Power charged at her. Makoto curled past the spear thrust and hooked her hands into the angel’s collar. She threw him to the ground, drawing her revolver as she rose. Three shots- gut, heart, head.
Makoto raised her aim. A shield smashed her gun out of her hands and sent her reeling.
Ann rolled across Makoto’s shoulders and kicked the charging angel in the face, sending it staggering.
Ann and Makoto caught each other’s eyes- blue and red- and pressed their backs to one another, extending their hands towards the hapless angel, perfectly in-sync. A corkscrew of red and blue flame spiraled across their arms and shot forward in a spear of brilliant light.
The angel fell to the ground, a smoking six-inch hole in his shield and through his chest.
Behind the fallen Power, a shadow loomed, through the smoke and the cloud of charred, smouldering feathers. Black wings.
And a girl in white.
“There they are,” Makoto said, her jaw tight with a cold, brittle fury.
Ann’s anger wasn’t cold. It burned hot and bright, like the birth of a star. She clenched her fists, eyes flashing in the firelight, channeled flames snaking around her form.
“MASTEMA!” She screamed, flaxen hair shining like a crown. “Let her go!”
~*~
Under different, less perilous circumstances, Shiho would have swooned.
“Wow…” Shiho said, breathless. “...Ann…”
“She fights for you,” Akira said softly. Shiho met his eyes and nodded.
“Hey,” Morgana spoke up, ruining the moment. “I like admiring Lady Ann in a fight just as much as the next guy. But don’t you think we should get moving?”
“Point,” Akira nodded. “Can you walk, Shiho?”
Shiho tried standing up. Sharp pain immediately lanced through her legs. She stumbled back into her chair, eyes stinging with tears.
“...No,” she admitted, hanging her head.
“It’s okay,” Akira said gently. He raised a hand to his mask.
“What are you doing?” Morgana asked.
“Improvising,” Akira said.
His mask dissolved into wisps of blue fire. The flames spiraled around them, converging and coalescing into a form- a woman on horseback, blonde-haired and wearing a winged mask, dual swords sheathed at her hips.
“Valkyrie,” Akira said. “No harm comes to this girl, understood?”
“I serve, Trickster.”
Akira helped Shiho up onto Valkyrie’s steed. It was strange, to Shiho. It didn’t feel like a horse. It felt like flame, cool and soothing, and it supported her weight easily despite being translucent. But if she was surprised, she sure didn't show it.
Then Valkyrie’s strong arms curled around Shiho’s waist, and Shiho couldn’t hide the red on her face, nor the warmth in her cheeks.
“Do I discomfort you, my lady?” The ghostly warrior-woman asked.
“Yes! I-I mean, no!” Shiho mewled.
“Gee, Shiho,” Akira smirked. “I didn’t know you had a type.”
“D-Don’t be ridiculous!” Shiho hissed.
“Hey!” Morgana snapped. “Remember what I said about us getting a move on?”
There came a sound- from above, and below. The rattling of metal armor, and the beating of mighty wings. Akira met Shiho’s eyes.
“Hold that thought,” Akira said, spinning his knife in his hands.
~*~
“Mastema,” Makoto echoed, her voice like ice beside Ann’s blazing wrath. “Let. Her. Go.”
The stained angel gazed at them across the ruined courtyard, now a warzone. He clapped a dirty hand over Shadow Shiho’s face and contemptuously shoved her aside.
“You’re fashionably late, I see,” Mastema said, his voice dripping with condescension.
He raised a hand. The congregation, which had sat obediently facing forward throughout all the chaos in the courtyard, shuffled out of the way. They didn’t move like humans- they slid across the ground, flickering, erratic, like a stop-motion animatic with frames missing.
“I’m disappointed in you, children of man,” Mastema said, gliding down the aisle, miming the act of walking though his feet never touched the ground. “I invite you to a wedding, and what do you do? You come here, hardly in your Sunday best, and you cause a commotion like this. After our little scuffle in the subway, this is how you repay me? After I so graciously invited you here, in a show of good faith?”
“Your faith went to shit the minute you kidnapped Shiho,” Ryuji growled.
Mastema flapped his hand in a mocking gesture. “Look at this ape, pretending he knows how to speak. I believe my instructions were quite clear. You were invited. You were to bear witness. But you were not to interfere. Those were my terms.”
“Fuck your terms!” Ann snapped. “Give Shiho back to us, and maybe you’ll keep your teeth!”
Mastema glanced at Ann, arrogant as ever. He sniffed.
“The hubris of man knows no bounds,” he said.
A pillar of light shot down through the clouds. It slammed into the paving stones, filling the space between Mastema and the group with a brilliant white light.
When it faded, a legion of angels stood between the Thieves and the altar, shields locked together in a phalanx, spears jutting through.
Mastema turned back towards the podium, lazily raising a hand.
“Kill them.”
~*~
Akira tossed himself into the air with trained grace, planting his heels in the angel’s shoulders. He grabbed it by the jaw, reflexively searching for a mask to tear off- and, finding none, he simply jerked its head back and drove his dagger into its throat.
Akira dismounted and landed with the grace of a cat. The angel shuddered and died without dissolving into tar, like other Shadows.
That was odd, Akira thought.
They descended the belltower, the riders’ hoofbeats thumping down the wooden steps, Akira and Morgana darting from landing to landing, dropping down on patrolling guards who looked up just in time to see their deaths.
Akira kicked a door open at the base of the tower, leading them out onto the cathedral atrium and the raised inner balcony. Two Powers were waiting for them, spears raised.
Akira reflexively raised a hand to his-
Face.
Right.
He only had one mask.
Akira twisted sideways, two thrown spears scraping bloody lines across his back and torso. Behind him, Valkyrie's swords flashed in her hands, swatting the spears away with a ring of clashing metal.
Akira drew his pistol and fired down the corridor, the first shots spanking off the angels’ shields, cutting gouges into the steel.
A gust of magical wind, courtesy of Morgana, swept down the hall and knocked the Powers off balance. Akira’s next shots hit their marks, and the two angels crumpled to the ground.
“Are you alright?” Akira asked Shiho. She nodded.
There was a bang from the lower floors. Akira peeked over the balcony, gazing down at the cathedral atrium.
He jerked back, a spear missing his face by inches and planting itself in the wall behind him.
“We need another way out,” Akira muttered, pressing a hand to the bloody line across his chest. “First floor’s no good.”
“Kurusu,” Shiho said. She was taking the horse’s reins, now that Valkyrie’s hands were full.
“What is it?”
“I have an idea,” Shiho said. She grimaced. “...You’re not gonna like it.”
~*~
Ann darted away from the advancing phalanx and its forest of spears, cut off from the altar and Mastema’s arrogant form. She cried out in frustration, hosing SMG fire at the legion. Ryuji joined her, firing off a shotgun blast.
Most of their shots sparked off the shield wall. A stray shot caught one angel in the throat, the impact of Ryuji’s shotgun blast having knocked his shield aside for just a moment. He fell, and the man behind him took his place, his shield locking into the formation. The phalanx kept advancing forward, one step at a time, inexorable, unyielding.
“This is bullshit!” Ryuji complained. “How come we don’t have shields?”
“We have guns,” Ann muttered. “For all the good they’re doing us.”
“Yusuke!” Makoto called, her voice ringing with authority. “Give us some cover!”
“At once!”
Yusuke raised a hand to his mask, summoning Goemon in a spiral of blue flame. A wall of ice punched out of the ground and drove a wedge between them and the legion of angels marching towards them. Immediately, the air filled with the sound of blades chopping into ice.
Makoto’s hunch was correct- the phalanx of Powers would rather carve their way through the ice by force rather than expose themselves by breaking formation and flying around.
They were safe. For now. But no closer to their goal.
Ann fumed, biting her lip until it started to bleed. She could see Mastema, his form warped by Yusuke’s ice barrier. He was standing at the altar, his back to them. Smug. Arrogant. So sure he was untouchable.
With an army of angels between them, he might damn well be right.
An elbow bumped into hers. Ryuji’s. Ann let out a frustrated sigh, meeting his eyes in quiet gratitude.
Makoto stood beside them, her arms crossed. She had to fight the urge to chew on her thumbnail, remembering she was wearing gloves.
To come this far, only for it to end in a stalemate…
“Makoto,” Ryuji said softly. “What do we do?”
Makoto exhaled. Behind them, the forest of spears was slowly but surely carving through the ice.
“Let me think,” she breathed. “Just let me think…”
~*~
Akira edged out onto the roof, passing rows of hunched, carved gargoyles sneering down at the courtyard below. The plan made sense, the rational part of his mind was trying to tell him. If you can’t go through an obstacle, go around it. Or over it.
It made sense. On paper. But in practice…
Akira glanced down. There was a dizzying drop to the courtyard below. His head spun. He reached out, steadying himself on a gargoyle’s shoulder.
He had a thing with heights.
“Shiho?” He called out behind him.
Shiho rode out onto the roof, the hooves of her otherworldly steed somehow finding purchase on the rain-slick tile.
“Yes, Kurusu?”
“You were right,” Akira swallowed. “I did not like it.”
~*~
Makoto gazed at Yusuke’s barrier, resolute, as it finally began to give way. As the wall of ice began to crumble, her plan had taken shape. If you cannot go around or over an obstacle…
...then you have no choice but to face it head-on.
The phalanx pounded against the wall of ice. Cracks spread out across its wet, translucent surface. One. Then two. Five. Ten.
The charging phalanx hit the wall.
Makoto hit the gas.
Johanna shot forward in a blaze of blue fire, a 200-horsepower battering ram driving a wedge of magicked ice. She exploded into the phalanx, sending shields and soldiers flying.
Seiten Taisei followed at her heels. Ann leapt from the Monkey King’s flying nimbus and stretched out her hands, calling forth a wave of channeled fire that set a section of Powers ablaze. Yusuke followed suit, summoning a freezing gale that frosted over armor, made metal brittle and frail. Ryuji jumped down from his Persona’s grasp, calling forth a lightning storm that jumped between the armored soldiers and got them convulsing with electricity.
Makoto drove Johanna in a wide circle around the assembled angels, their phalanx now hopelessly in disarray. She threw Johanna into a drift, completing the glyph Johanna’s shining tires scored into the ground.
The courtyard went ablaze with a brilliant blue light.
The explosion threw Mastema off his feet and off the altar. He beat his wings, rising, gazing into the azure fire engulfing his courtyard- and the four silhouettes that strode through the flames.
Ann. Makoto. Ryuji. Yusuke. Surrounded by the obliterated remains of a legion of angels, reduced to ash and dust. Haloed by azure flame. Resolve burning in their eyes.
Ann’s, brightest of all.
“Ryuji,” Ann growled. “Give me a lift.”
“You got it,” Ryuji grinned.
Seiten Taisei appeared at Ryuji’s back in a swirl of blue fire. Ann leapt up onto the end of the Monkey King’s staff, as he reared back and got ready to swing.
"Kick his ass, Ann!" Ryuji yelled.
“Batter up!” Ann cried out, and Ryuji hurled her through the air. She shot across the courtyard like a bullet, fire gathering in her hands, aiming straight for Mastema’s heart.
The stained angel could only sigh.
“Hubris,” he breathed.
Ann soared across the sky, haloed in fire, blazing like a vengeful comet. She slammed into the altar with an explosion of crimson flame, her heart crying out in righteous fury.
The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the whole Cathedral.
Shadow Shiho stopped her cold, a hand closed around Ann’s fist, gazing up at her with an empty nothing in her once-gold eyes.
~*~
Shiho screamed out as a phantom pain flared across her arm. Akira stopped in his tracks.
“Shiho? What’s wrong?”
The sound of her voice sent a ripple across the stone gargoyles lining the roof. A sickly green light ignited in their eyes, and they came alive, growling and snarling as they pulled themselves free from their pedestals. Akira grit his teeth, watching as the cathedral’s stone guardians stretched their wings and came upon them.
“Son of a bitch!” Akira yelped as a diving gargoyle nearly hurled him off the roof. He ducked behind a stone partition, claws gouging the wall. Further down the rooftop, Valkyrie was parrying claw swipes from all sides, stone claws sparking as they struck her blades.
“Morgana!”
“On it!”
Zorro appeared in a blaze of blue light, cutting a ‘Z’ into the air. A wall of magicked wind slammed into Shiho’s assailants, skipping them down the roof like stones across a pond.
“Shiho!” Akira called out.
“I’m alright!” Shiho grimaced, one hand held tight to her chest, the other clutching the reins. “What’s the plan?”
“Follow me!” Akira called.
Akira had a plan. Most of one, anyway.
He ran across the roof as fast as he dared, struggling to stay upright despite the treacherous footing. He could hear Shiho right behind him, the riders’ hoofbeats on the tile, the chop of stone wings at their heels. A spread of cards appeared in his mind’s eye. He swiped his hand, drawing one in particular…
“Kikuri-Hime,” he said, speaking into a rectangle of blue fire that appeared between his fingers. “Get me Makoto Niijima!”
~*~
Shadow Shiho looked up at Ann without the barest recognition in her empty eyes. Her form flickered and frayed, a ghostly image appearing behind her. A bear. A great bear, bound in chains…
“Shiho?” Ann whispered.
The Shadow clamped a hand around Ann’s throat and hurled her the length of the courtyard. Ryuji opened his arms and caught her, the impact throwing both of them off their feet and slamming the wind out of their lungs. Ryuji and Ann lay curled on the pavement, gasping.
Makoto stood, stunned. A voice welled up within her, snapping her out of her daze.
My Priestess, Johanna whispered. I bear a message from my kin.
Makoto blinked. “What?”
Makoto, it’s me!
“Wh- Akira?!” Makoto hissed.
I’m on the roof! I need a hand!
Makoto lifted her gaze, searching-
There.
“Understood!” Makoto said.
Behind her, Yusuke was helping Ryuji and Ann stagger to their feet. Ryuji had a pained look- probably from Ann crashing into his sternum- but the expression on Ann’s face was haunted; lost.
She had Makoto’s sympathy. But there was still work to do.
“Eyes up!” Makoto barked, her voice snapping them alert without them even realizing. She drew her revolver, leveling it at the edge of the roof. The others readied their weapons, following her lead.
“Toggle off!” Makoto cried, voice ringing. “Covering fire on my order!”
Akira and Shiho hit the edge of the roof and kept running, the swarm of gargoyles right behind.
“Fire!”
Concentrated gunfire tore the swarm apart, fragmented stone filling the air like chaff. Akira, Shiho, and Morgana plummeted from the roof, Valkyrie’s form dissipating into blue fire. Morgana flailed, channeling Zorro in desperation.
A cushion of wind blossomed up beneath them and slowed their fall. It didn’t stop Morgana from landing flat on his face on the paving stones, nor Shiho from hitting the ground in a way that sent hot flashes up her legs. Akira tucked into a roll with a practiced grace, the only one to land on his feet.
“Shiho!” Akira hissed, urgent. He crawled over to her on his hands and knees.
“I’m alright,” Shiho gasped, clutching a calf. “...I’m alright…”
“Shiho!”
Shiho knew that voice anywhere. It stopped her in her tracks, piercing her like an arrow through her heart.
Ann dropped her weapon with a clatter, running over and falling to her knees. Akira darted back before Ann could physically throw him out of the way.
Ann threw herself into Shiho’s arms, laughing, crying, she couldn’t even tell. She held her close, trailing a hand through her hair, smoothing Shiho’s hair across her scalp. Shiho gasped in relief, the lancing pain in her legs utterly forgotten.
Ann was here. She was right here.
Ann was a flame in her hands- bright, and warm, and alive.
Ann stood up, and Shiho leaned on her arms, more steady than the physical therapy parallel bars ever were. Ann leaned forward and pressed Shiho’s forehead to hers, gazing into her eyes.
“I’ve got you, Shiho,” Ann said, resolute. “I’ve got you. And I will never let you go again.”
Shiho pulled away sharply, clutching her head. Something pulsed through the air- a thrumming, susurrus of noise, of static, of whispers- voices, by the hundreds, by the thousands, chittering, babbling, in the rising chorus…
And, high above them, the church bells began to ring.
“I’m afraid you have no choice.”
Mastema loomed by the altar, Shadow Shiho enthralled at his side, suffused by an aura of growing shadow and flickering crimson light.
“You never had a choice, in any of this,” Mastema said, smiling that infuriating smile. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“Man, shut up! Who the hell even are you?” Ryuji snapped. “Why the fuck are you doing all this?!”
The fog closed in around them, the sky going dark, church bells ringing out behind them.
“I am the Angel of Hatred,” Mastema intoned, a shadow passing over his face. “When the Great Flood ravaged the Earth, and the Lord Creator was ready to purge the world of demonkind, I beseeched Him, and did stay His hand. Thus was I granted command of one-tenth of all demons, to tempt and to test mankind…”
Mastema’s smile curled into a grimace.
“As for why I’m here, specifically… I am here to stick a thorn in the paw of a false god. By stealing his champions right out from under his nose.”
“But why her?” Ann demanded. “Why Shiho?”
“Does it matter?” Mastema smirked.
“Of course it matters!” Ann snapped.
“I disagree,” Mastema said, waving his hand dismissively. “There are countless potentials in this wicked world. I had no reason to choose her over any other.”
Ann balked. “You mean… it could’ve been anyone…?”
Mastema smiled.
“There are always more pawns.”
A scream split the air, chilling the group to their core. At the altar, Shadow Shiho was rising into the air, red and black energy spiraling around their form.
“That’s right…” Shadow Shiho said, eyes flashing between empty black and vivid gold.
Shiho clutched her head, wailing. Ann carefully lowered her to the ground. Shiho curled into a ball, trembling, Ann trailing her fingers through her hair.
“No matter what happens,” Ann whispered, “I’m getting you out of here. I swear it!”
“This was never about me… This was never about me at all…!” Shadow Shiho said, lit from within by a wretched, filthy light.
“Look at me. All of you!” She screamed, her form twisting, changing, to the ringing of the bells. “Look at me!”
~*~
Shiho drifts, through the in-between.
The halfway place, between life and death, dreams and reality, mind and matter.
She drifts, through rage and despair, loneliness and dependency, doubt and darkness.
There is a voice, across the sea, over the churning waves.
Listen.
Listen.
~*~
Shapes. Colors. The world slides, slips, outlines bleeding into shapes into shadows. A kaleidoscope of adrenaline, of fear, of pain. Too many sights, blurring together like frosted glass. Too many senses. Too many nerves, sparking, fraying. Too many sounds. Rattling chains. Cracking glass. Fire. Bells.
And a voice. One voice, like sunlight through the clouds.
“Shiho!”
Ann. Her anchor. Her light.
A blaze of red spills across her vision, and the world starts slipping away. Static flickers across her eyelids.
In Shiho’s delirium, something catches her unfocused eyes.
A white light. A butterfly, lingering near.
Watching.
Waiting…
~*~
Shadow Shiho let out a thunderous roar and slammed her paws into the ground, shattering the courtyard’s paving stones. She was no longer a girl in a wedding dress- she was a bear, a great bear bound in chains. A stone plinth floated above her head, an impromptu halo bearing an exquisite stained glass mural of a saint, her hand raised in benediction. For a moment after her transformation, Shadow Shiho had been chained to the mural, her feet dangling helplessly just off the ground. Now, she was running wild, her broken chains curling around her like whips.
Ann didn’t want to think about what this meant for Shiho’s psyche. She didn’t want to think about how, after years of thinking herself invisible, Shiho finally had everyone’s eyes on her- and for all the wrong reasons. And Ann certainly didn’t want to think why the saint in Shiho’s mural, the one to whom Shiho was chained, had sky-blue eyes and flaxen hair, shining like a crown.
A plume of fire shot out of the sky, making a beeline for Shiho’s prone form. Ann dove in front of the blast, Hecate’s form flickering at her back.
Fire didn’t scare her. Not anymore.
Mastema gestured, and a bolt of yellow lightning flew her way. Ann cringed, shielding Shiho from the blow-
Ryuji reached his metal baseball bat out like a lightning rod, drawing the electricity into himself. Seiten Taisei’s ghostly image flickered behind him, unfazed by lightning. Ryuji stomped a boot onto the ground to earth himself, shouldering his shotgun and taking aim.
Mastema darted behind Shadow Shiho’s bulk at the last second. Ryuji’s shot went wide, the spray of pellets blasting a bloody hole into the great bear’s shoulder.
Shiho screamed, clutching her own shoulder, an echo of the pain shooting through her senses.
“Ryuji!” Ann snapped.
“I’m sorry!” Ryuji cried. “I didn’t-”
A massive paw slammed Ryuji off his feet. A second swing missed Yusuke by inches.
Yusuke coiled around the blow, hand instinctively going to his sword- but then he hesitated, clicking the blade back into its sheath. He darted away from another mammoth strike. He leapt nimbly away from the strike as it sent cracks through the paving stones and threw dust into the air.
“This is fruitless,” Yusuke said, evading another blow. “We cannot persist!”
A chain coiled around Yusuke’s ankle and hoisted him into the air. A moment later, it was cut, and Yusuke fell, cradled in Zorro’s arms. Zorro unceremoniously dropped Yusuke on top of Morgana and faded into blue flame.
“Oof!” Yusuke landed with a grunt. “...Thank you, Morgana.”
“Don’t mention it,” Morgana said, poking his head out from beneath him.
Mastema gestured, and spears of shadow sank into the ground. Puddles of darkness swam across the stone, shooting upwards as black spires.
Makoto leapt gracefully out of the path of the rising thorns, channeling blue fire out through her fingertips. Mastema disdainfully glided away from each shot, smug in the knowledge that he was untouchable. He gestured again, another black glyph appearing in his hands.
Akira took Makoto by the shoulders and shoved her away as half a dozen black spears rose from the ground and stabbed him through the back.
“Akira!” Makoto cried.
Akira spat blood on the paving stones. He clenched his fists and tore himself free, Arsene’s luminous form flickering behind him for a moment. He staggered forward, all but falling into Makoto’s arms.
“I’m okay,” He panted, notably not turning aside the palmful of healing power Makoto pressed to his chest. “What’s the call?”
“We’re not gonna get anywhere if Mastema keeps flying around taking potshots,” Makoto said. “We can’t hurt Shiho’s Shadow without it hurting her, too. And Mastema damn well knows it.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Akira said.
He and Makoto leapt apart as pillar of ice exploded between them.
Mastema smiled from above them, without a care in the world, lazily dissipating the pale blue glyph in his hands. Ryuji growled.
“Hey!” Ryuji yelled. “Why don’t you come down here and fight like a man, you piece of shit?!”
“Learn this lesson, and learn it well,” Mastema said, arrogant as ever. “Important people never need to get their hands dirty.”
“Oh, fuck off-!” Ryuji cried, charging forward.
Shadow Shiho let out a roar, and smashed him aside with a gargantuan paw. The impact skipped him across the courtyard, eventually hitting the cathedral wall with a horrifying crack. Ryuji hit the ground hard and didn’t move.
“Ryuji…!” Ann gasped, her throat tight. Akira was at his side in an instant, cradling Ryuji’s head in his lap. His hand shone with healing power, but his red gloves were getting redder by the second…
Yusuke and Morgana rushed forward to help. Shadow Shiho’s chains coiled around their ankles and dragged them back. Yusuke drew his sword and broke through their chains, landing on his feet, Morgana’s momentum carrying him far into the undergrowth. Shadow Shiho came at Yusuke with an outstretched paw. Yusuke hesitated.
Too long. The great bear’s paw struck him like a freight train and slapped him onto the pavement.
Mastema summoned a black glyph between his fingers. He threw his hand towards Ryuji and Akira, prone and helpless. A hail of black spears came crashing down…
Makoto intercepted the blow, spires of living shadow crashing against Johanna’s chassis. Makoto hit the ground with a roll as Johanna swerved off the road, erupting into blue fire. The shock sent a tremor through Makoto’s body. Still, she stood, between her friends and the world, blood dripping from her nose and mouth, ready to fight- ready to die.
Mastema fixed Ann with his eyeless gaze. Even blindfolded, he seemed to stare right through her.
“What about you?” Mastema asked. “Are you just going to watch?”
Ann panted. Shadow Shiho’s chains came lashing forward. She hung her head, screwing her eyes shut...
“No.”
Ann gasped, her eyes snapping open.
Shiho had the lashing chains wrapped around her hands. She pulled herself to her feet, lit by an otherworldly blue fire.
“I will not be just a witness.”
The great bear struggled against her bonds, but Shiho stood firm, fire in her eyes.
“You’re me,” Shiho said, resolute. “Aren’t you?! I can feel it… your anger… your frustration… your bitterness… your hate…! Well, these are my friends! They’re not the ones who deserve your anger… but you know damn well who does!”
Mastema growled, his smug expression twisting into a grimace. He raised his hands above his head, a black glyph appearing between his fingers. He threw his hands forward, summoning a storm of black spears.
Shiho squeezed the chains linking her and her Shadow, blue fire racing up and spiraling around the great bear. A howling wind swept across the courtyard. The storm of black spears was sucked into the whirlwind and spat out, deflected, the knife-like obsidian shards burying themselves in the cathedral walls.
The wind carried a healing power. Ryuji woke with a gasp, coughing, a pale green light suffusing his form. Yusuke rose to his feet, clutching his stomach. Makoto took a deep breath, the myriad scrapes and scratches along her side sealing in a wave of green light. She stared up at the funnel cloud forming in the courtyard, Mastema grunting in frustration as the wind buffeted him to and fro.
Most striking, however, was the sight of Shiho and Ann facing the great bear, together in the eye of the storm.
“She’s…” Makoto stared, dumbfounded. “...She’s… changing her own heart…?”
Akira leapt to his feet.
“Shiho!” He called. “Make the vow!”
The wind swirled around them, smelling of honeysuckle and spring, its song loud enough to drown out the ringing of the bells. The great bear’s original form flickered before Shiho. She gazed into the eyes of her other self, in a plain white dress with no frills, vivid gold peeking out from the empty black nothing.
Thou art I. And I am thou.
“Vow to me,” Shiho said, the words coming to her from some hidden place- a halfway place. “Vow that our life is our own, that our path is ours to choose. Vow that I am worthy of that choice.”
Are you? Do you even know who you truly are?
“I know who you are,” Shiho said. “I know your name.”
Then say it. If you have the courage.
Blue fire coalesced around Shiho’s eyes- a mask. White-feathered, as if for a masquerade ball, crowned with a laurel wreath.
I am a mortal who follows in the wake of the goddess. I am the healing wind at your back. Once, I was made helpless. Once, I was made a victim. Now, no longer.
Born of you, I shall walk by your side, if you but utter my name.
Take up my bow. Take up the hunt. And may the arrow in flight become your rebellion…!
Shiho reached up and tore her mask free.
“Callisto!”
Power exploded around her, sweeping her up into the windstorm. Shiho’s street clothes transformed in a blaze of blue fire, becoming a white robe and strapped sandals. Callisto, the great bear, reared up between her legs, roaring in defiance. The chains and stained glass plinth floating overhead became the banners of the hunt, flying in the breeze. Shiho sat back in her saddle, ignoring the ache in her legs, raising an ornate bow in her hands.
Mastema snarled, his smug expression vanishing.
“What hope do you think you have?!” He raged into the gale. “I am divine! Your lifetimes pass between single beats of my heart! What difference can one girl make?!”
“Just enough!” Shiho cried, loosing an arrow.
Shiho’s shot struck him in the chest and exploded into a whirlwind. Mastema emerged from the gale, his robe tattered and torn, his wings ragged. He growled and turned, beating his wings as if to flee.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Makoto cried. “Open fire!”
The barrage of gunfire split the sky and ravaged Mastema’s wings. He crashed to the ground, his wings a crumpled, broken mess. He grit his teeth, moving to crawl away on his hands and knees. A ring of fire rose up around him, cutting off his escape.
“No way,” Ann glowered, her hair shining in the firelight. “You have no right to run from this! Finish him, Shiho!”
“Callisto!” Shiho called out, emerald light gathering at her fingertips. “Vanguard Arrow!”
Shiho loosed her arrow of wind into Ann’s snare. A firestorm erupted into life, a roiling inferno fit for a fallen angel. When the blaze died down, Mastema was a charred mess on the ground, and the whole of the Phantom Thieves had him at gunpoint.
"This show's over!" Akira cried, sporting a dangerous grin.
Mastema glowered at them, soot falling from his shoulders.
“You serve the whims of a false god…” Mastema snarled. “There are always more pawns…!”
Shiho drew back her bow in a blaze of light.
“Even pawns can win you the game!”
She loosed her arrow, like a shooting star. The Phantom Thieves leapt into the fray and struck as one, Shiho’s arrow leading the charge.
A pulse shot through the Sunken Cathedral, shivering the foundations, shattering stone.
Moments later, three shadows burst out of the fog. A motorcycle. A flying cloud. And a great bear.
The bells rang out, one final discordant clang, echoed by the cries of a lonely and hateful wind. The masterless Palace fell into ruin, stone cracking and crumbling, sinking into the lightless, poisonous ooze.
~*~
After Ann's longest night, and after Shiho's wedding day, Shiho Suzui was finally home.
There was so much more to do. There was so much more to say. And there wasn’t enough time. There would never be enough time.
Would there be enough time for the questions? For the promises? For the confessions?
Ann and Shiho had a lifetime’s worth of things to share with one another, and Shiho was only in Tokyo until the end of the week. Only seven days to express a lifetime of gratitude; of loyalty; of devotion; of affection.
There was a celebration, of course, in the attic at Leblanc, despite protests that the middle of summer was no time for hot pot. There was a second celebration, at Ann’s house, because Ann’s parents still weren’t back and she had more than enough space to party. And then there was a third, quieter celebration, after everyone else had gone home, for only Ann and Shiho to share.
More than anything, Ann and Shiho took the time to talk. Sometimes, if you’re close enough to someone, if you’ve known them long enough, you’re comfortable enough to leave some things unsaid. But after seeing the darkness inside her own heart, Shiho realized that some things left unsaid come back to haunt you. They sit, and fester, and become a poisonous whisper in your ear.
The white butterfly watched over Shiho in her little moments. Watching Ann stumble her way through a home-cooked dinner. A box of chocolates from the gift shop Ryuji told Ann about. A confession long overdue. A visit back to the amusement park, this time with everyone, that may or may not have been paid for with the Phantom Thieves’ operational funds. A priceless photo on the rollercoaster. A ride on the ferris wheel.
A first kiss at the top of the world.
Little things, none so grand as a wedding, or a battle with a fallen angel. But in those little moments lies something divine.
There are tales there, too, ones worthy of telling. But those are stories for another time.
It was a busy week. The rest of Shiho’s summer break passed by in a blur…
~*~
Shiho stood at the train platform, shrugging her bags off her shoulders with a relieved sigh. She sank into a bench, massaging her aching calves.
Ann dropped down next to her, flashing her a huge, trademark smile.
“You doin’ alright?” Ann grinned. “It was a pretty long walk from the diner.”
“Personal best,” Shiho smiled. She leaned in, bumping her nose against Ann’s.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” Ann beamed.
“Says the most biased woman in the world,” Shiho giggled. “Where is everybody?”
Ann shot Shiho a knowing look. “They’re not slick, is what. Ryuji texts me, says they ‘got lost’ on the way to the station. Pfft.”
“That’s sweet of them,” Shiho said, leaning into Ann’s shoulder. “They’re letting us have a moment.”
Ann curled an arm over Shiho’s shoulder and squeezed. She bumped her head against Shiho’s, like a cat.
“I guess,” Ann purred. “Though I better not catch them spying on us.”
“What are you suggesting?” Shiho giggled. “That they’re following us at a distance, their noses stuck in some manga?”
“When Makoto did it, it was one of my fashion magazines,” Ann muttered.
“Was it, now?” Shiho smiled. “Maybe she has a crush.”
“Don’t say that. I might think you’re serious.”
“At least she has excellent taste,” Shiho teased.
Ann took a deep breath and sighed, holding Shiho close. She reached up, trailing her fingers through Shiho’s hair.
“What’s it like, over in Inaba?” Ann asked.
“I can’t really say,” Shiho admitted. “By the time the transfer went through, it was just a few weeks until summer break.”
“Maybe it’ll be nice to have a fresh start,” Ann murmured. “What’s Shujin got for you, anyway? It’s all just bad memories.”
“Not all of them,” Shiho said.
Shiho sighed, nuzzling into Ann’s throat. Ann tucked Shiho’s head under her chin.
“I said I wanted to be my own person,” Shiho said softly. “To just be… me. Not a headline. Not a victim. To walk on my own two feet. I didn’t want to be in anyone’s shadow. I hated K- h- him, for that. But, I think… a small part of me… hated you, too.”
“I understand,” Ann said.
“Looking at it now, I don’t think ‘hate’ is the right word for it. I was afraid,” Shiho continued. “I was afraid that without you, I would have nothing left. But now…”
Shiho took a deep breath and sighed, cuddling in closer.
“You make me so happy, Ann. When I’m with you, I’m more than I am alone. But even without you, I am still whole.”
Shiho lifted her head, searching Ann’s sky-blue eyes.
“I love you, Ann.”
“I love you, Shiho,” Ann breathed, like a prayer.
Shiho smiled- a slight, subtle, gentle thing. “May I kiss you?”
Ann blinked, sitting upright, scanning the platform.
“Are… Are you sure? There’s people,” Ann whispered.
“It’s okay,” Shiho said, her breath ghosting across Ann’s lips. “Let them look. You saw me when I was invisible, Ann. If the only thing people know about me is that I’m in love with a wonderful girl like you… then I won’t be ashamed.”
Their lips met, like the sun meeting the sea. The wind rose around them, smelling of honeysuckle and spring.
When they parted, breathless, they held each others’ eyes.
They didn’t see the white butterfly, flitting gently away.
~*~
Akira added Shiho Suzui to the group.
[11:37] Akira: Say hello to Shiho, everybody
[11:38] Makoto: Welcome!
[11:38] Yusuke: Welcome aboard.
[11:39] Ann: Hey, Shiho!
[11:39] Ryuji: Yo, welcome to the group chat!
[11:40] Shiho: Hello everyone!
[11:43] Shiho: I know I just saw you all at the station an hour ago
[11:44] Shiho: but I just wanted to say thank you, again, for everything you did for me.
[11:47] Shiho: I had a wonderful summer break, thanks to all of you.
[11:48] Shiho: Thank you for saving me. ^^
[11:50] Makoto: It was our pleasure.
[11:51] Akira: We’re glad to help.
[11:51] Ryuji: idk man
[11:51] Ryuji: I feel like you did most of the work at the end, there
[11:52] Ryuji: also I was unconscious so I might’ve missed some of that
[11:52] Shiho: Regardless.
[11:53] Shiho: You showed me that I was someone worth saving.
[11:53] Shiho: Thank you.
[11:53] Ann: Just don’t be a stranger, okay? You might get lonely, out in the countryside.
[11:54] Shiho: I promise I’ll keep in touch. And I won’t be alone, Ann.
[11:54] Shiho: I’ll have you.
[11:55] Ann: <3
[11:55] Shiho: <3
[11:56] Yusuke: How touching.
[11:57] Ryuji: excuse me while I barf
[11:58] Akira: What’s wrong, Ryuji?
[11:59] Akira: Jealous? <3
[12:01] Ryuji: don’t make it weird, dude
[12:02] Akira: <3 <3 <3
[12:02] Ryuji: QUIT IT
[12:03] Makoto: Please don’t spam the chat.
[12:04] Ann: You’re one of us now, Shiho! =D
[12:04] Shiho: :)
[12:05] Akira: ONE OF US
[12:06] Ryuji: O N E O F U S
[12:07] Shiho: I’m honored, truly. Although, I do have a question.
[12:08] Akira: ?
[12:09] Shiho: Should I be wondering why this group is called the ‘Phantom Chat’? ;)
[12:09] Ryuji: ...oh
[12:09] Akira: SHIT
Several people are typing…
Incoming call from Ann <3...
~*~
“Hey, you,” Shiho smiled, putting her phone on silent just as the barrage of chat notifications started coming through.
“Hey you,” Ann purred back.
“I’m sorry,” Shiho smiled. “I think I may have broken Akira.”
“He’ll be fine. He’s been in Tokyo less than a year; he’s still under warranty,” Ann said.
“What are you up to?” Shiho asked.
“Right now? Helping Ryuji roast Akira for so casually giving away our secret.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Shiho smiled.
“Shiho…!” Ann whined. “I miss you!”
“You saw me on the platform an hour ago!” Shiho giggled.
“But now you’re going all the way back to the country,” Ann wailed. Shiho could hear the pout in her voice.
“I’m sorry,” Shiho said gently. “We’ll just have to hold out until winter break. It’s not that far away. And in the meantime, we have the chat, we can call, we can screen-share movies together…”
“I’ll have to get one of those day-by-day flip calendars, and start counting the days until I see you,” Ann said. “...I’ll miss you.”
“You keep saying that,” Shiho smiled.
“I keep meaning it.”
“Well, I’ll miss you, too.”
“I’ll miss you more.”
“I’ll miss you most.”
A moment passed in peaceful quiet, Shiho watching the countryside pass by in a blur. She raised a hand to her mouth, stifling a yawn.
“Whatcha’ doin’?” Ann asked.
“Right now?” Shiho smiled, eyes heavy-lidded. “Falling asleep on the train. You?”
“If we’re being really, embarrassingly honest?” Ann asked. “Wishing I was there, to kiss you goodnight.”
“Then do it,” Shiho purred.
“Good night, Shiho,” Ann said, with a smile in her voice. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Ann,” Shiho breathed, closing her eyes. “Good night.”
~*~
Shiho dreams.
She’s sitting across from a girl, at a table lined in blue velvet. Everything in this place is blue. The sky, the light, the tablecloth, the girl’s dress. Everything except the girl’s eyes, which are a vivid gold.
“You again,” Shiho breathes. “Who… who are you?”
“There are many powers observing humanity, and not all of them wish you ill,” the girl says. “Shall we read the cards tonight?”
Shiho nods. The fortuneteller swipes a gloved hand across the tablecloth, and three cards appear, face down. She reveals them in turn.
First, The Star. Hope after disaster. The light in the darkness.
Second, Strength. A woman taming a lion... or, perhaps, a bear. Strength within, and without.
Shiho claps a hand over the third card, startling the fortuneteller.
“I’m sorry,” Shiho says, sheepish. “But this third card represents my future, right? If it’s alright with you… I think I’d like to find that out on my own.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” the fortuneteller smiles. Stands. “Then it seems I’ve done all I can do.”
“Thank you,” Shiho says softly. “For everything.”
“All I’ve done is show you the way,” the fortuneteller says. “You did all the walking.”
“Will I ever see you again?” Shiho asks.
The fortuneteller only smiles that mysterious smile.
“I serve the interests of humanity’s goodwill,” she says. “I watch over every heart that aches with compassion, every heart that cries out for justice in righteous anger, every gesture of charity; loyalty; protection; affection. I was with you in the hospital, as you learned to walk again. I was with your friends, as they searched for you in the rain. And I will be with you, every time you wish for happiness on someone else’s behalf.”
The fortuneteller’s golden eyes shine in the light. She smiles.
“It should come naturally, for someone in love.”
In a flash, the fortuneteller is gone, leaving a white butterfly in her wake. And for once, left in the darkness of her own thoughts, Shiho is not afraid.
There is a serenity here; a stillness. There are no church bells ringing. There is no pouring rain, no suffocating fog, no eerie crimson light. There is no rage. No despair. No poisonous, hateful whisper.
There is only the butterfly, shining like the moon on a cloudless night.
Shiho sleeps, deeply and peacefully, a butterfly at her bedside, the divine stillness only broken by the sound of her wings.
~*~