Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

March 21, 2012

Souji sits on worn, cross-stitched seats as Inaba leaves him and thinks about where it all went wrong.

They had found out the killer, or at least who they thought was the killer. Namatame confessed in the hospital room to the kidnappings, and while it was tempting—so tempting—they hadn’t thrown him in the TV to be killed by his Shadow. Despite that, the team hadn’t listened to his side of the story. Why should they? He kidnapped all of Souji’s friends and his little sister; he killed Mayumi Yamano and Saki Konishi. He wanted all of them dead… right?

Namatame’s words echo through Souji’s mind. “Save them… I wanted to save them!”. Souji wipes the quickly gathering sweat from his palms. But how is kidnapping and putting them into the TV saving them? How is that salvation? Were… were they truly right in their choice to not hear Namatame out? 

When Souji boarded the train from the platform, his friends were smiling, but their smiles hadn’t quite reached their eyes. Their farewell was tainted with an obvious air of unrest. Disappointment. While Nanako—thankfully, thankfully—made a recovery, Teddie disappeared after Namatame confessed, and Inaba is still living under perpetual fog. The town Souji grew to love and cherish this past year had slipped completely out of his grasp and into darkness, and it’s entirely his fault.

A dull, hollow ache eats away at his heart, just as it’s been doing ever since November 2011. In an attempt to escape the feeling, he leans his head against the window of the train and wills sleep to come.

Running away, a voice in the back of his mind taunts.

Souji glances out the window before he closes his eyes. Inaba is gone.

**

He dreams about the past few months.

Nanako lost somewhere in the depths of Heaven. Angels clothed by an endless sky and drifting clouds; a green sleeve pinned to a pink dress. False salvation.

The sterile stench of the hospital; the eerie chill of the rooms. Nanako’s heart monitor flatlining, echoing down the halls and into forever. Muffled cries from the girls; unrestrained sobs from Kanji — direct shots to the heart as Souji’s world fell apart, piece by piece.

Souji’s own anger—so viciously raw and profound—spilling from his hands and into the shadows of Namatame’s shirt collar. Voices begging him to not end up a murderer as he forced Namatame’s head between TV static, and the hysterical, staccato breaths filling the room as Souji eventually spared him. Yosuke’s eyes like daggers as he shoved Souji against the wall, demanding an answer as to why they shouldn’t send a man falling to his death.

Teddie’s farewell note between Souji’s fingers — heavy, as if it would break his arms in half at any moment. The awkward, tense air that began to follow the Investigation Team; the fleeting feeling within Souji’s heart.

A pillow stained with tears; an empty fridge and an emptier heart — alone, alone, alone again as Nanako remained tied to the hospital and Dojima exhausted himself with even longer hours at the station, determined at all costs to find justice in this case.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

Even in his dreams, absolutely horrific pain spreads from Souji’s chest, worsening with every heartbeat. He feels himself fall from a great height, and he thinks he’s probably going to die soon, probably going to be the next small-town mystery: 17 year-old found dead in train car. And maybe Dojima and Adachi will be assigned to his cas-

“Foolish.”

Souji’s body hits something hard — paralyzed, breathless. He is only able to look up at where he had fallen from. In his peripheral, he can make out black, velvet material — curtains. A bright spotlight blinds him from above. Someone begins to speak, yet he can’t identify the voice. Although… it sounds so familiar.

“So foolish. The truth you viciously sought, did it mean nothing to you? Your selfless heart, once determined to help those that needed it most… why did you neglect its wishes? The potential you gained on your journey hangs by a thread, one cut away from disappearing into the fog forevermore. Will you still hide from the truth you long for this time, He Who Invites? Or will you escape from the depths of Yomi?”

Souji tries so hard to move, to speak, but it’s impossible. It’s as though someone has chained him down and sapped every ounce of energy straight from him. Fog creeps at the corners of his vision, blurring the spotlight and curtains; his limbs grow weaker by the second.

“This chance is a gift. Pursue the truth until the very end, never letting your heart falter. Do not regress into the cowardice that so easily finds you, lest the fog cloud your vision once again.”

Chance? Cowardice? Whose voice is this? Souji can’t ponder anymore, as the worst pain he’s ever felt in his life suddenly comes upon him, striking a nail through his head and down to his toes. A deafening screech surrounds him from every angle — a cacophony of so many noises: waves and static and thunder and discordant snatches of his friends’ and family’s voices.

This must be the price he’s paying for abandoning Inaba in the fog, the truth of the TV world forgotten and forever lurking around the corner like an omen.

**

The terrible maelstrom of noise that seemed like it blew his eardrums ceases all at once. The train comes to a standstill. Souji awakens, still in the train car, except he’s sprawled on the floor. His entire body shakes with adrenaline; his ears ring and ring and ring. It takes a few moments, but after a while he pushes himself up, grabs his luggage from the overhead, and shakes the dream from his mind.

Souji frowns. Tokyo, once more.

The announcer’s voice sounds through the intercom. “Yasoinaba Station. This is Yasoinaba Station.”

Souji freezes. Yasoinaba Station? Why? How? Did they have to make a return? He would have to switch lines in order for that, so there’s no way. He glances out the window and can’t hold back a gasp. It’s indeed Inaba he’s looking at, except there is absolutely zero fog. It’s bright and so, so beautiful. Sakura petals scatter against the glass, the Samegawa can just barely be seen if he looks out far enough, and everything is so green. His friends, as well as Dojima, are no longer at the platform. Nanako wasn’t there in the first place — absent due to being in the hospital.

Souji moves his wide-eyed stare from the town to his reflection in the window. I wasn’t wearing my uniform when I left, so why am I wearing it now? 

The announcer’s voice interrupts his thoughts; another reminder that they had arrived at Yasoinaba Station. Souji makes his way off the train, head throbbing and legs turned clumsy. His insides stir violently. The air outside is fresh and clean — a stark contrast to what he had breathed in maybe thirty minutes ago. Actually, what is the time? He pulls his phone out to check and nearly drops it. Flashing back at him is something that can’t possibly be true.

[Monday, April 11, 2011. 15:51]

His first thought is that his phone somehow malfunctioned on the train. He tries to fix the date under settings, but it won’t let him change it that far ahead to something like March 2012. He pockets his phone and asks a passerby instead. 

“Excuse me, can you please tell me what the date and time are?” Souji asks a middle-aged woman with a briefcase.

“It’s April 11th, and…” She checks her watch. “It’s almost 4PM.”

Souji stares at her, dumbfounded. His voice cracks with the onset of panic. “A-Are you tricking me…?”

The woman looks at him like he has three heads and briskly walks away. Souji’s breaths begin to come more erratically. He asks another person, but they say the same thing. He asks another, and another, and another, and yet they all say the same exact words.

“It’s April 11th, 3:53PM.”

Souji makes a mad dash for the station’s bathrooms. As soon as he closes the stall door in the men’s bathroom, he vomits. His knees dig into the unforgiving tile floor as he retches into the toilet, though the contents are mostly fluids, as he can’t find it within himself these days to eat all that much. Is this one sick, twisted trick everyone is playing on him? Is this really Inaba as he had left it only thirty minutes ago? How did it all change so quickly?

His thoughts take a turn. What if he really had traveled back a year? He recalls his dream on the train; the voice in it had talked about a “chance”. Was the person who was speaking the one responsible for him traveling back in time?

Souji wipes his mouth on his sleeve and checks his phone again. Sure enough, the date is the same.

[Monday, April 11, 2011. 15:59]

He opens his message inbox and there sits a text from Dojima he had received almost an entire year ago.

Meet us outside Yasoinaba Station at 4PM.
> Sent at 14:56. April 11, 2011.

Souji clutches the sides of his head in pain. This can’t be real. He hears someone enter the bathroom and steadies his breathing as much as possible, not wanting the poor guy to have to call for help. Christ, picture that: Dojima’s first meeting with his nephew in years being a rescue mission from the Yasoinaba Station bathrooms. 

Just think about this for a minute, Seta.

Okay, okay, he can do that. Souji takes several deep breaths. He was always praised by his friends on his ability to think rationally in high-stress situations, and that is exactly what he needs to do right now. He considers a few variables.

1. The science approach: I hit my head too hard when I fell on the train. A blow to the head with a strong enough impact could possibly cause side effects such as memory loss and hallucinations.
2. The fantasy approach: Time travel is possible. I now have to relive the most traumatic year of my life all over again.

Souji decides to play with the second one. After all that’s happened to him, it’s only natural that he would be more open-minded to the fantastical. It might be crazy—really goddamn crazy—but if a world inside a TV is able to exist—housing inhabitants with strange names like “Personas” and “Shadows”—then maybe time travel can exist as well. This is the logic he finds most realistic. It’s downright nuts, but he’ll have to go along with it for now.

Eventually—after many more rounds of deep breathing and trying to reason out the bizarre situation he’s found himself in—he steadies himself on two feet, having been previously curled knees-to-chest on the bathroom floor. If he had truly gone back in time, his cousin and uncle will be waiting for him outside the station. He starts walking to meet Dojima and Nanako. Again. 

Souji pinches the bridge of his nose as he walks, sincerely overwhelmed. Somehow, even after all the antics of the past year, this is what’s almost too much for him. Key word: Almost.

“Souji!” Dojima shouts. “Over here!”

Dojima looks a lot less haggard from when he had seen Souji off not long ago, his form having filled out significantly. Souji notices with a bitter sting that Dojima’s voice is no longer hollow and monotone. Instead, it sounds the most joyful that he’s ever heard before. A small, strangled noise sounds in the back of Souji’s throat as he approaches his family and spots Nanako hiding behind Dojima’s legs. She’s no longer chained to that sad hospital room. She’s right here—healthy and breathing normally—not flatlining in his arms, not clutching her cold hands between his. This is…

“You’re even more handsome in person,” Dojima says, snapping him out of his thoughts.

It seems like this is his reality for now.  

Souji sighs and listens as Dojima introduces himself. His words are exactly the same.

“And this is my daughter, Nanako,” Dojima says softly. “Say hi, Nanako.”

Nanako peeks out from behind Dojima’s legs. “U-Um… hello…”

Souji bends down and gives her a smile. “Hi, Nanako.”

Nanako blushes deeply and tries to hide herself even further behind her father’s legs. Souji can't help his continuing smile as Dojima laughs.

“What are you so scared for?” Dojima asks, resulting in Nanako smacking his back. He laughs harder at that, and Souji’s heart soars. Despite everything, he’s so, so happy to see them both together again.

On the ride to the Moel gas station, Souji thinks some more about his situation. Judging from Dojima and Nanako’s behavior, it seems like no one around him realizes that anything is different. Nanako is out of the hospital, and Dojima’s appearance had drastically changed since he left Inaba an hour ago. Realistically, these things couldn’t happen if someone was tricking him; it would be far too extreme for the short amount of time that he was gone. Still, this is beyond strange.

Moel goes the same. Nanako leaves to use the bathroom and Souji meets the station attendant. He’s overcome with a brief, but severe pain in his head this time, too. Now that he thinks about it, that attendant is truly something, saying things like, “You’ll either be hanging out with your friends or doing part-time jobs” with that coy smile of his. Even his tone of voice was condescending. What kind of person just infers what a complete stranger is going to do with their time? The mystery of country folk continues to elude him.

Creepy gas station attendants aside, Souji focuses his attention on something a lot more important as he watches TV over dinner at the Dojima Residence.

“…In response, Eye Television has decided to cancel all of announcer Mayumi Yamano’s televised appearances."

Sickness churns in his stomach yet again. That’s right: tonight is the night that Mayumi Yamano dies. He forgot that it happened the very day he arrived in Inaba. After quickly eating dinner (“Only half?” Dojima had noted with concern) and helping Nanako with the dishes, Souji heads upstairs and waits. Just like last year, it rains. The Midnight Channel will come on tonight.

In his previous life—and he's really going to have to get used to referring to it as that—he learned that Ms. Yamano had disappeared on April 10th, which means that she was already in the TV world when he arrived in Inaba on April 11th. He holds a hand to his heart. All of the Personas he gathered over the past year have disappeared, leaving his mind eerily quiet. If he doesn’t have Izanagi, then that means he can’t go into the TV world. He tries it out for good measure—putting his hand against the TV screen—but it’s no use. Souji sighs, heart heavy in his chest. Mayumi Yamano will be found dead tomorrow, and there is absolutely nothing he can do about it.

At midnight, his TV switches on. Ms. Yamano is there on screen. She’s wearing her usual announcer’s outfit, sitting in a chair at a desk while holding papers. It seems as though she’s about to tell a news story. Is this her Midnight Channel “show”?

“Today, we have a very special report,” Ms. Yamano says matter-of-factly from the TV. “Recently, it has come to the public’s attention of a scandal involving myself, enka singer Misuzu Hiiragi, and her husband Taro Namatame.” She giggles with a hand to her mouth, losing any sense of professionalism she had about her. “Ahahaha, that’s right! You’re all right — especially you, Misuzu! Taro is cheating on you with me! Oh, dear audience—dear Inaba—your beloved local politician and musical star are not as put together as they seem!”

Ms. Yamano blows several kisses toward the screen. “You chose me, Taro, because you know I love you! I do! I love you, Taro! Mwah, mwah, ahahaha! To those of you darlings who are still watching, find out more details on the next episode of ‘Lady Mayumi’s Heartbreaker Crusade’!” She rises from her chair and comes close to the screen, waving both of her hands. “Bye, darlings!”

The screen goes black.

Souji’s throat closes up, his chest tightens, and he feels like he can’t even breathe. Back then, the Midnight Channel “shows” might have seemed a little humorous to him, but now, having Ms. Yamano’s imminent death shoved in his face like this is a million times as worse as the last time. Especially since he knows what happens now; especially since he could have prevented it, had he the means to do so. He thinks about how Ms. Yamano is most likely being tormented by her Shadow in the TV world, terrified out of her mind. Saki Konishi will die soon too, he remembers. But in his last run, he didn’t receive the power to actually go into the TV until April 13th, and Saki was thrown in some time after that. Would there be a way to save her before she’s found dead this time around? He ponders this as he crawls into his futon.

That night, Souji dreams that same dream he had last year: of running (Being chased, he dully suspects) down a neverending black and red path, plagued by an unknown voice that echoes from the sky. It’s not unlike his dream on the train.

“Do you seek the truth…?”

“If it’s truth you desire, come and find me…”

He still can’t attack the fog-shrouded figure very many times. He swears he hears distant screams from somewhere calling for help; he hates that they sound like his own voice. Another one of his attacks misses. The platform he’s standing on suddenly disappears, leaving him to fall into the clear sea that borders the path.

“Will you find me this time, I wonder?”

April 12, 2011

Souji wakes with a gasp. Thankfully, he’s not on the floor this time, but as he looks down, he sees his sheets are most definitely covered in a pool of his own sweat. Great.

He takes his phone off the bedside table. It’s a little earlier than when he would usually wake up.

[Tuesday, April 12, 2011. 05:47]

The date still startles him.

In any case, Nanako will be up to make breakfast in a few minutes. Souji puts his bedding in the wash and decides to help his cousin out. In his last run, he and Nanako made many meals together, and the smile that lit her face as she helped Souji mix, grill, or fry was one of his favorite things in the world to witness. He thinks of her in that hospital room, long wires attached to a sleeping, pale form. She tried so hard to be strong during that time for him and Dojima, but Souji knows that she was suffering horribly. He doesn’t want to see her like that ever again. This time, he vows to keep her safe from any harm.

“Good morning, Nanako,” Souji greets as he takes an egg carton out of the fridge. She’s just coming down the stairs, yawning and still in pajamas.

“Oh… you’re awake already?” Nanako asks timidly. “Um, what are you doing?”

“Well, I was going to cook some breakfast for you and Uncle as thanks for letting me stay here.”

Nanako’s eyes gleam. “Wow, you cook too? Can I help you?” 

Souji laughs. “Sure. Do you know how to make omelettes?” At the shake of her head, he beckons her over. “Then I’ll teach you how. Come join me.”

It’s obvious that Nanako is very shy around him, blushing whenever he looks at her and not saying much. Souji’s a little put-off. She’d opened up and come so far, and now all that progress has been reversed. Not just her progress, but everyone’s. Even so, Souji had learned how to be somewhat more divergent in his lines of thinking during his year in Inaba, so he tries to see this as more of an opportunity than anything. He smiles fondly as he thinks of his friends. Being able to remain in their company and warmth for another year is something he knows he won’t take for granted.

Dojima comes out of his room not long after they begin cooking. Souji gives him a wave over his shoulder as Nanako watches the eggs simmer in the pan with wonder in her eyes.

Dojima huffs a short laugh. “Joined at the hip already? I guess Reiko did say you’d get along with anyone.” At the mention of his mother, Souji stiffens. “I’ve gotta leave early today. Nanako, don’t let Souji get lost on the way to school, yeah?”

“I won’t!” Nanako promises.

After breakfast, Souji heads to school, walking halfway with Nanako before she turns in the direction of her own school.

“Thanks for helping with breakfast,” Nanako says. “Bye!”

Souji smiles despite the rain. He knows who he’ll see next. The tell-tale sound of squeaky, screeching bike tires comes not even a minute later.

“Wh-Whoaaaaaa!” Yosuke shouts from behind him.

Souji turns around. There’s the man of the hour—his partner and best friend—cycling madly toward him and threatening to fall over at any second. He reaches out and grabs one of Yosuke’s bike handles, stopping him in his tracks.

Yosuke looks up from behind the handles with shocked eyes. “Um…”

“You looked like you were about to fall,” Souji says, not able to suppress the overwhelming warmth that floods his heart at the sound of Yosuke’s voice. “Are you alright?”

Souji holds his umbrella over Yosuke’s head. It leaves himself completely exposed to the cold spring rain, but really, it may as well not even exist when Yosuke Hanamura currently stands before him with a smile that will forever overshadow it.

“Oh… yeah, yeah. I’m fine! Heh.” Yosuke laughs, but Souji can tell he’s embarrassed. He points to the umbrella. “Dude, you’re gonna get sick. It’s alright. I’ve been riding in this rain all morning.”

Souji smiles. “I’m happy to share with you.”

Yosuke… well, he’s completely different from the rest of his friends. Over the past year, Souji developed just a small little crush on him. Totally just a small one. Very tiny. Nothing to worry about. Christ, that “small” crush had absolutely ruined him. He constantly thought about Yosuke when he should have been thinking about other things. How his laughter always manages to be heard even in the most crowded room, how his loyalty never once crosses a finish line, how the sun seems to follow wherever he walks… Maybe “ruined” is an understatement.

While Yosuke never found out about his crush, someone else did — Yukiko, namely. He has a feeling Teddie knew as well, but he isn’t sure. That damn bear can be strangely perceptive when he puts his mind to it. 

Crushes aside, Yosuke warily glances up at the umbrella. “Well… okay then. Thanks for the help, man. Oh uh, I guess I should introduce myself, right? Yosuke Hanamura. Nice to meet you.”

“Souji Seta. It’s nice to meet you… Hanamura-san.”

Yosuke rubs the back of his neck. “You can just call me Yosuke. Hearing you say that sounds a bit weird.”

“Alright then, Yosuke.” Souji can’t help the upward twitch of his lips as Yosuke’s name falls from them. “I’m the new second-year transfer student by the way. I hope we get along well.”

“New kid in town, huh? I hope you like it here. I moved from Tokyo too about six months back, so I know what it’s like.” Yosuke offers a hand to shake. “I’ll make sure to show you around so you don’t get lost, okay?”

Souji takes his hand as quickly as possible. He knows he holds on for much longer than necessary. “Sure. Thank you.”

**

Meeting Mr. Morooka again is more than a little jarring, considering he’s been dead in Souji’s memory for a long while now, and even that makes his stomach twist. Maybe he’ll have a chance to save him from Mitsuo in this run as well.

At lunch hour, while Souji is sitting on the rooftop, he spots Saki talking to a group of third-year girls. A shiver wracks his body. To think, she was once hung upside-down on a telephone pole, body on full, gruesome display. And now, by some trick of fate, she’s a mere ten feet away from him — laughing and free. 

Today, Saki will find Ms. Yamano’s body, and tomorrow will be the day that Souji officially meets her. Would it change anything if he were to talk to her right now? After careful consideration, he takes some of his trash to throw away in the bin closest to Saki. As he had hoped, this grabs the attention of her and her friends.

“Oh,” one of the girls in the group says, “are you the new transfer student?”

“I am,” Souji answers. He introduces himself, which leads to the rest of the group introducing themselves one by one.

“I’m Saki Konishi — a third year like these guys,” Saki finally says, a little shyly. “It’s nice to meet you, Seta-kun.”

Souji strikes up a conversation with them, focusing most of his attention on Saki. “Konishi-senpai, your name sounds familiar. I was exploring town some yesterday after I arrived and came across a store called Konishi Liquors. Do you happen to have a connection to it?” 

It’s a small lie, as he hadn’t actually explored town yesterday, but it will do. He wants to get as much information about her as possible.

“Oh, yeah,” Saki says. “My parents run that store. It’s been passed down for a few generations now, but it’s not really anything special.”

Souji knows Saki doesn’t get along too well with her parents, but based on what her Shadow said last time, she did seem to care about them and the liquor store to a degree. She’s being modest. It reminds him of her hidden feelings about Yosuke.

“Do you work there with them?” Souji asks, already knowing the answer.

Saki fidgets. “No. I actually work at a large department store called Junes. It’s close to Yasogami.”

Souji nods, deciding to leave it at that as she had started to tense up. He’ll have to be mindful of how he behaves with people this year. Although he already knows them in his memories, they obviously don’t know him, and he could easily come off as strange.

The rest of the school day passes by exactly the same. Souji hears multiple lectures he’s already heard before all over again, takes the same notes that have somehow vanished from this world, (Really? This granter of time-travel couldn’t have left him his damn notes? Come on now) and meets classmates and teachers he already knows. At the end of the day, the announcement comes over the intercom that police are near the school and to head home as quickly as possible. Guilt pools in Souji’s stomach; he reminds himself Ms. Yamano’s death is not his fault, despite how much he wants to believe so. After the announcement is over, Yosuke holds out a DVD to Chie. Ah, that’s right. He hadn’t broken it this time because Souji had stopped his bike.

“It was a really interesting movie,” Yosuke says. “Thanks for letting me borrow it, Satonaka-san.”

Chie’s eyes light up. “You liked it? Hey, remember the part where the protagonist…”

Souji notes Yukiko’s tense appearance as she stands next to a rambling Chie, arms crossed behind her back and shoulders rigid.

“Um, Chie…” Yukiko mumbles.

Chie scratches the back of her head as she turns to Souji. “Oh, I guess we should introduce ourselves to you, right? Sorry about that.” She laughs. “My name’s Chie Satonaka, and this is my friend, Yukiko Amagi.”

“Hi,” Yukiko says politely. “I hope you enjoy Inaba. There’s not a lot to do, but everyone pretty much knows each other here.”

Souji introduces himself to Chie and Yukiko. His two friends look a lot different. Yukiko has reverted back to her soft, quiet nature, and Chie’s still as loud as ever, but lacks the fire in her eyes. It hurts him to know that his dear friends are all experiencing their own levels of suffering right now.

“Hey, Yosuke!” Chie shouts. “Aren’t you gonna introduce yourself to Seta-kun?! So rude.”

Souji flinches. Yep, still very loud. “Don’t worry. Yosuke and I met this morning on the way to school.”

Yosuke laughs. “Yeah, if we hadn’t met this morning, your DVD would probably be in pieces right now.”

Chie grabs Yosuke by the collar. “What?! What’s that supposed to mean?! You dare treat my precious ‘Trial of the Dragon’ like trash?!”

Chie and Yosuke begin bickering back and forth. Yukiko cracks a wry smile and sends Souji a look. He knows this look: absolute mischief. Souji sends her the same grin, thinking about the weird and frankly dark sense of humor Yukiko would reveal to them later this year. It was something he could always relate to about Yukiko, and he treasures that.

Yosuke eventually ceases the argument and announces that he has a shift at Junes he needs to get to. He heads off, leaving Souji to walk home with Chie and Yukiko. Souji persuades the two to walk a different route; he doesn’t want to come across Ms. Yamano’s crime scene or have Dojima gather any unwanted suspicion toward him. Before they even step foot outside the school gates, Mitsuo is there again, pestering Yukiko. Last time, Souji had just stood there, confused and disgusted by the end of it. But this time, he won’t let one of his friends be walked over.

“Listen,” Souji sharply interrupts. “She already said she’s not interested, so leave her alone and go home already.”

Mitsuo just stands there, humiliated. Good, soak it in. He spouts something incoherent and then runs away.

Souji turns to Yukiko. “Yu… um, Amagi-san. I’m really sorry about that. I hope it didn’t seem like I was speaking for you, but I can’t stand-“

Now Yukiko interrupts him. “Seta-kun, don’t apologize. No one has ever really stood up for me before besides Chie, so that was really nice of you to do. Thank you.”

On the way home, he thinks about how Yukiko will be kidnapped by Namatame soon. As terrible and as disgusting and as filthy as it makes him feel, he knows he won’t be able to see the case through without all of his trusted friends. He has to let Yukiko be taken and then go rescue her. Souji glances to Yukiko, who is smiling at Chie as they talk about something together. He thinks of Kanji, Rise, and Naoto. They’ll have to be taken, too. And…

Souji stops dead in his tracks. Nanako.

There’s no way he’ll let her be kidnapped this time. There is absolutely no reason why she has to be taken from him by Namatame. He won’t let Namatame get to her. He won’t.

“You alright, Seta-kun?” Chie asks, she and Yukiko having stopped as well.

Souji thinks of the dream he had on the train, of the mysterious voice that had spoken to him. 

“Pursue the truth until the very end, never letting your heart falter. Do not regress into the cowardice that so easily finds you, lest the fog cloud your vision once again.”

He won’t choose the path of least resistance this time. He’ll solve the true matter of this case alongside his friends, even if it’s painful. And he’s certain it will be.

“I’m okay. Just feel a little sick,” Souji says. It isn’t a lie.

Chie and Yukiko part ways a little further down. The death of Mayumi Yamano will be broadcast tonight, and tomorrow will come more rumors of the Midnight Channel. He’ll also have to finalize a plan to save Saki. Souji takes a long breath as he stands before the entranceway to the Dojima Residence. He can hear Nanako inside watching the quiz show, and her airy laughter that filters through the cracks of the front door seems to warm him wholly from the inside-out.

Souji forces a smile onto his face and opens the door.

Chapter Text

April 13, 2011

The next day, Souji stops Yosuke from nosediving into the trash can.

“You saved me again, dude,” Yosuke says as Souji once again takes his bike by the handles. “It’s sorta like you’re psychic.”

If only he knew. It’s not like Souji can’t tell Yosuke and the others about the time-travel, but he has a distinct feeling that it won’t do him any favors in regards to public perception of his mental state. They talk grimly about Ms. Yamano’s murder on the way to school. Chie and Yukiko join in on the conversation as they reach the school gates.

“It’s really freaky,” Chie says. “Who would just hang a dead body from a TV antenna? Do you think the killer electrocuted her?”

“Who would kill anyone in the first place…?” Yosuke mumbles.

You and me, Souji nearly says, shoving his hands in his pockets to hide their tremor. He wishes he could do the same for his ears, forever haunted by the echo of TV static and the screams of a man face-to-face with death.

**

At the end of the school day, Yosuke approaches him and asks if he knows about Inaba’s local delicacy.

“It’s grilled steak, man!” he shouts, voice far too loud in the tiny classroom. “I’ll treat you to it today. Think of it as a welcome gift.”

Chie comes to life at the word “steak”, having been previously sprawled out on her desk asleep. They end up at Junes again, Chie’s argument for tagging along being, "I let you borrow my favorite kung-fu movie, Yosuke! It’s like an honor sharing that with anybody!”. She stands up to use the bathroom about ten minutes in, leaving Souji and Yosuke alone together. The topic of Tokyo inevitably surfaces.

“The friends I had there were, uh…” Yosuke says, thumbing the cord of his headphones, “flaky… I guess is the word.”

Souji remembers Yosuke’s words from the last timeline — how he only hung around people in Tokyo for the sake of not seeming lonely, how he had a full contact list, but still no one to talk to. Not like Souji himself can’t relate.

“They must be idiots then,” Souji says, tone fond, “because I can already tell that you’re a good person.”

Yosuke blushes—very, very red—and Souji swears he malfunctions for a moment. God, he’s cute. All he wants is to hold him close and kiss that blush away and-

“T-Thanks, Souji. Umm.” Yosuke rubs his nose. “That’s really nice of you to say. And you seem like… like a, um, pretty cool dude too.”

Pretty Cool Dude. Souji can take that title for now. Though, that nickname is far from the level of childlike giddiness that courses through him every time he hears the word partner.

Chie returns from the bathroom shortly after, an excited look drawn on her face. “So, have you guys heard about it?”

“Heard about what?” Yosuke asks.

“The Midnight Channel!” Chie explains, gesturing wildly with her hands. “I heard about it from people at school. Apparently, if you look into your TV on a rainy night—exactly at midnight—your soulmate will appear on screen and stuff! Someone swears they totally saw that announcer lady on their TV!”

Yosuke frowns. “Uhhh, what? Chie, did you take something weird?”

They start to bicker like usual, leaving Souji to his thoughts. If things are the same as last year, tonight will be when he awakens to Izanagi and is granted access to the TV. Tomorrow, he’ll tell Yosuke and Chie about his ability to enter the TV, and then they would visit the other side for the first time (Or in Souji’s case, probably the hundredth time). If he plans things out right, they can visit Ms. Yamano’s room and happen to “stumble upon” Saki’s Shadow in the liquor store. If Souji fights her Shadow, or better yet, prevents her from denying it altogether, they can save her.

Speaking of Saki…

“Hey, Yo,” Saki says to Yosuke as she approaches their table. “What’s up?”

“S-Saki-senpai!” Yosuke hurriedly rises from his chair. “Are you okay? Do you need my help with something?”

Saki laughs. “No, you goofball. I just wanted to say hi.” She spots Souji from across the table. “Oh! Hi to you too, Seta-kun! Has Yo already recruited you as his friend?”

Yosuke groans. “Uh, hello? I’m literally right here!”

“We met yesterday,” Souji says. “He’s been really nice to me.”

“That’s good. He’s generally a nice guy, but he can be a little nosy at times. You gotta tell him right to his face if it becomes too much, okay?”

Souji smiles. “Don’t worry, Senpai. I’m sure I won’t need to.”

**

That evening—after Saki’s interview regarding Ms. Yamano’s body airs on the news—Souji waits until midnight, where an all too familiar feeling overcomes him at the first stroke of the hour. The thunderstorm outside his window grows in intensity; flashes of lightning paint the four corners of his room white and dance behind his eyelids. Izanagi makes himself known in Souji’s heart through an airy whisper of “I am thou” nearly drowned out by thunder. He lets out a sigh of relief. It’s good to have a fragment of his soul back. 

Souji puts his palm flat against the TV screen before him, and sure enough, it goes through. The arid, oppressive atmosphere of the TV world is unmistakable, even with just his hand inside. He quickly removes it. The outline of Saki’s body appears. Blurred images flash on screen — a Yasogami tie hanging from the corner of a Hablerie’s lips, a makeshift crucifixion over an Inaba telephone pole.  

Souji’s chest and throat constrict, and he crawls into his futon before it can lead to tears. He listens to the storm outside as he drifts asleep, wondering if there will ever come a time where fear doesn’t seize him within a vice-grip at the first drop of rain.

April 14, 2011

Souji tries to explain to Chie and Yosuke what happened the night before—even mentioning Izanagi’s voice in his head—but just like last time, they don’t believe him. They head to the Junes Electronics Department after school to look at TVs for Chie’s parents. Once again, Souji sticks various body parts in the TV, and once again, Chie and Yosuke panic. All in all, they end up inside the TV.

They venture around after the customary “Where the hell are we?!” from both Yosuke and Chie. Souji tries to guide them as inconspicuously as possible to Mayumi Yamano’s room, and when they make it there, the torn posters of Misuzu Hiiragi are the first thing he spots. Jealousy, self-loathing, despair — these qualities may as well be written upon the walls of the room in the bright red blood that decorates them.

Yosuke grimaces as he pokes at the noose. “Creepy…”

“Let’s get out of here,” Souji says. Ms. Yamano is gone now, and as bad as it hurts, there is nothing he can do about it. He wants to save Saki as soon as possible. “I’ll lead the way.”

Instead of leading them to the backlot, he guides them to where he knows the Twisted Shopping District is. Multiple Shadows surround the liquor store, and Souji makes a show of summoning Izanagi as the Hableries lick and bite at his friends. Crushing the blue card between his hand, he easily takes all of the Shadows down in a few turns.

“What in the world?!” Chie shouts from behind him as Izanagi retreats back into his heart.

Yosuke’s eyes practically fall out of his head. “Dude, what was that?! P-Perso…na? Izanagi? Is that what you said?”

“Izanagi…” Chie mumbles. “Hey, isn’t that what you were trying to tell us about earlier today? So it is real! How did you do that? I mean, what… what’s going on?!”

“Calm down,” Souji says. He starts to say something else, but is cut off by several loud screams from inside the liquor store.

Chie blanches. “Is s-someone in there?”

“Let’s find out,” Souji says. “You two, stay behind me.”

As Souji expected, Saki’s Shadow is inside, wearing a black and red pantsuit and dark eye makeup. Several razor-sharp knives are sheathed at its waistline on a yellow and black, caution tape-like belt. It sits upon a pyramid of crates — legs crossed and drinking from a bottle of sake. It rests its chin on a fist, seemingly bored. A sign above its head in tacky neon lights reads: Konishi Style Breakdown. The Shadow’s golden eyes stare down at what lies before it: the real Saki at the bottom of the crates, crying profusely.

Souji stares incredulously at the Shadow. Yosuke and Chie do much of the same.

“W-What the hell is this?!” Yosuke shouts in a panic, looking between the Shadow and Saki’s true form.

Saki’s Shadow simply stares back at them for a few moments. Very quietly, it begins to speak. “They really think they all know what’s best for me…” It takes a long swig from the bottle and then throws it backward. It rattles a few times from where it had fallen on the floor. “Do I look like someone who doesn’t know what she’s doing?” 

Voices echo from above.

“Oh, I heard that Konishi-san’s daughter is working there.”

“How could she, with her family’s business suffering like it is?”

“What a troublesome child.”

“FUCK YOU!” the Shadow suddenly screams, grabbing a knife from its belt and staking it through the crate it sits on. Souji, Chie, and Yosuke all jump.

Saki sobs. “D-Don’t listen to her! I don’t know who she is!”

“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? You’re the eldest daughter of a family who’s owned this store for generations!”

“Fuck you!” the Shadow screams again, hair falling wildly all around its face. “The only reason I worked at that store was to make more money for you and mother! You don’t give a shit about me or Naoki. You don’t care about anything or anyone!”

“Senpai…” Yosuke says from behind Souji. “P-Please just calm down.”

Shadow Saki glares down at Yosuke. “And you…”

Yosuke swallows and trembles where he stands as Shadow Saki jumps down from the crates and strides closer to him. Souji instinctively sticks his arm out in front of Yosuke. The Shadow pays no mind; it promptly shoves Souji to the floor with enough force to briefly knock the air from his lungs.

“Seta-kun!” Chie and Saki both shout. Chie kneels down to help him, while a weakened Saki tries to crawl toward him, but fails.

“I’m fine. Just-“ Souji starts, but is cut off by the Shadow speaking. All he, Chie, and Saki can do is watch from the floor.

“I was only nice to you because your dad’s the manager of Junes,” Shadow Saki says to Yosuke, sickly sweet as it twirls a lock of its hair. “But you always took it the wrong way!” Its expression twists as it takes another knife from its belt. It holds it under Yosuke’s chin and forces him to look it in the eyes. Yosuke—white as a sheet and shaking profusely—doesn’t even dare to wipe at the tears that trail down his face. “You really thought I liked someone like you?! Because of your goddamn store my parents hate me and the entirety of Inaba talks shit about me the minute I turn my back!” It grips the knife tighter. “I’m so fucking sick of it!”

Shadow Saki backs Yosuke up until he hits the wall behind him. It drags a gold-polished finger through his tears. “Gonna cry now? I thought you were tough, Yo? Or was that part of your act too?”

“S-Saki, please…” Yosuke pleads quietly, voice breaking.

The Shadow loses its lovey-dovey act and slaps Yosuke across the face. He yelps and falls to the floor on his knees, holding the cheek it had slapped.

“Yosuke!” Saki shouts. She manages to crawl a few inches toward him, then collapses again.

Shadow Saki turns to its counterpart. “You, shut the hell up! You don’t even care about him! Just shut up and let me say what you’re really thinking!”

“N-No, stop it! You have no idea what I’m thinking!”

“Just let it talk…” Souji mumbles weakly.

Shadow Saki giggles, walking toward Souji. It grinds a heel into his chest and leers down at him with an expression so thoroughly pleased. He wheezes and struggles under it to no avail. Chie tries to grab at its leg, but the Shadow hurls a knife at her. It lands upright next to her face, mere centimeters from her eye.

“At least you want to hear me talk,” the Shadow says to Souji. “You’re nice to me, and…” It pauses and licks its lips. “You’re sort of handsome. You’re much better than Yo.”

Souji looks to Saki rather than her Shadow. “Yosuke is a good person, and so are you. Please just listen.”

Shadow Saki’s brow furrows, eyes filling with rage. The heel on Souji’s chest presses down harder, and he can barely breathe now. The Shadow spits; with a grotesque noise, it lands on his chin. Souji’s stomach pools with dread. He knows exactly what’s coming.

“No!” Saki yells. “Why should I listen to this thing? Whatever it is, it isn’t me! Don’t listen to it; listen to me!”

The Shadow removes its heel and saunters over to Saki. “Not you? Are you that desperate to shield your eyes?! Of course I’m you! I’m your Shadow, don’t you know? I know everything about you because I am you. Everything you think and feel, everything you hide from those around you… I know it all.”

Saki’s eyes go wide. She shakes her head over and over. “W-What the hell are you? You are not me. You’re not! There’s no way you can be me!”

Shadow Saki laughs manically. Before long, Souji’s covering Chie and Yosuke’s dragging Saki out of the line of fire as the Shadow transforms into its true self. It’s hell fighting it, literally. An arsenal of light, dark, and physical attacks bend to its will.

Shadow Saki casts an insta-kill upon Souji. “You want a fight, new kid? Then taste this!”

Souji dodges and counters with a Zio spell from Izanagi. His trusted Persona is so weak now, not having maintained its strength from the consistent training over the past year. It’s extremely hard doing this without his teammates, and especially without someone like Teddie or Rise guiding him through it. Long and torturous, Souji thinks this is probably the most difficult fight he’s ever taken on—save Kunino-sagiri—but he sends the Shadow spiraling into dissolution nonetheless. He collapses to his knees in the wake, exhausted.

Saki stirs the moment the Shadow assumes its human form. It stares back at her, golden eyes piercing sharp under the ominous blue haze of the liquor store.

Souji musters up the last of his strength. “Senpai… if what it said was true, then it’s only one part of who you are. I have a feeling another fight’s just around the corner if you don’t accept it.”

Saki looks at her Shadow apprehensively. “I… I guess some of what it said was true…” The Shadow puts a hand to its hip, unimpressed. Saki lets out a deep breath. “Okay, all of it was true.” She lifts her head higher. “You’re right. I hate Junes, I hate Inaba, and I hate my parents for never having my back.” She hesitates, then turns toward Yosuke with sad eyes. “And… and I find Yosuke really annoying. He’s nice and all, and I know that he has a crush on me, but I can’t stand it. I can’t stand anyone in this town. I… I can’t stand myself…”

Yosuke bows his head in shame, cheek beginning to bruise from the Shadow’s slap.

“I’m sort of… jealous of him…” Saki continues. She crosses her arms. “That’s why I dislike him so much. He acts so goofy and carefree even when things don’t go his way. Meanwhile, I get the worst of the town’s backlash and just have to take it. It’s not fair.”

Several minutes pass by in silence. Nothing but the sounds of everyone’s breathing and the hum of the refrigerators in the store.

Yosuke finally lifts his head. “Saki-senpai, it’s okay. I understand. I know how much it hurts that everyone talks about you when you’re not around, that they don’t appreciate the work you do, and I’m sorry. It really isn’t fair. You don’t deserve that.” He walks a little closer. “Even if you don’t think so, there are people who do genuinely care for you and want you to be happy. Naoki, me…”

“You?”

Yosuke nods. “Of course.”

Saki covers her eyes as she begins to cry. “I’m so sorry, Yosuke…”

Saki’s Shadow smiles at her when she’s not watching, beginning its transformation in a whirl of light. A large figure materializes above it. “I am Inari Ōkami. Thou hast awakened to me. From this day forward, I will guide you and protect you.”

The figure disappears as fast as it appeared, and a card falls in its stead. Saki takes the card and flips it over. It reads: The Magus.

Yosuke throws an arm around a delirious Souji to help him walk, Chie does the same with Saki, and together they set out to find the TV world’s exit. It takes everything within Souji to not take off Olympic-running toward the backlot and instead guide them with feigned confusion. Eventually, they reach a familiar catwalk, and at the end of it, there Teddie stands.

Yosuke snaps to attention. “H-Hey! What the hell is that?!”

“I think he’s an enemy, Yosuke!” Chie chimes. “Hurry, let’s put these two down and pummel him!”

“Wait!” Teddie screams, holding out his paws and shaking them. Souji stifles his laughter. “Don’t hurt me! I’m not a Shadow!”

“Like that thing we just saw back there?” Chie asks.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” 

Yosuke and Chie talk right over each other as they try their hardest to explain what happened at the liquor store.

“Wait, so this guy was able to fight the Shadows?” Teddie asks, pointing to Souji. Souji smiles weakly as Teddie waddles over to him. “Did you have a Shadow too?” Souji ignores the lurch in his gut and shakes his head. “No Shadow? But how do you have a Persona?”

“What does that mean?” Yosuke asks.

“You have to accept your Shadow to get a Persona! Duh!”

Yosuke scowls. “What the hell? What even are you?! I think it’s time you showed your face!”

Yosuke uses his free hand to pop Teddie’s head off, and like before, nothing is there. Completely empty. It jars Souji to say the least; he’d gotten really used to Teddie’s human form.

“Gahhh!” Chie yells. Saki gasps in her hold. “W-What’s up with this freaky-ass bear?!”

Yosuke just stands there, completely mortified. Souji presses his face into Yosuke’s jacket as he chokes on laughter.

Teddie puts his head back on and balls his little paws into fists. “Hmph! Seems like you all don’t have any manners, unlike moi!"

“Umm, uhh… l-listen, bear!” Yosuke quickly backtracks. “Do you know how to get out of this place?”

“Of course I do! I live here after all.” Teddie stomps his foot a few times. Three televisions appear behind him, as though they had descended from the fog-covered sky. “Now scram!”

They end up on the floor of Junes as always, directly in front of the signature flatscreen. Souji stands and brushes himself off. Yosuke and Chie follow, but Saki remains unmoving, unconscious once more. 

After a long stretch of silence, Yosuke lifts her up. “Let’s go home. I’ll tell my dad Senpai passed out working or something so no one gets suspicious of me carrying her. There aren’t any cameras around here either, so I’ll be fine. Chie, can you walk with Souji?”

“Huh?” Chie eyes Souji awkwardly. “Yeah, sure thing.”

“It’s alright, Satonaka-san,” Souji assures.

Chie nods and hooks an arm around his shoulder. “Just call me Chie.”

As they begin the walk to his house, Souji looks behind him at Yosuke and Saki’s fading shadows under the evening sun. He saved her; he saved her! Already, the evil of the last timeline is coming undone.

Nanako and Chie tuck him into bed shortly afterward. Their words are cottony and far away next to his ear.

“He hit his head pretty hard at Junes,” Chie whispers. “Keep an eye on him, okay, umm…?”

“Nanako,” Nanako says, voice small and sweet.

“Nanako-chan,” Chie repeats.

The door closes with a soft click.

Saki’s safe. Saki’s safe.

Chapter Text

April 15, 2011

Souji wakes the next morning convinced he got hit by a truck, then seven more trucks, all at the same time. The only other time he had ever felt this bad after a trip into the TV world was after saving Nanako in Heaven, and that’s saying a lot. It looks like strength is something that didn’t carry over from the last timeline.

God, he feels terrible. It’s a whole process just to drag himself out of bed, get ready, and begin the walk to school. On the way there, a relieved smile finds its way to his lips. Saki is safe. She’s no longer suffering in the TV world — no Shadow to torment her, no gut-wrenching announcement of her death at a school assembly.

The thick fog swallows tiny Inaba this morning, yet Souji feels at ease.

As soon as he slides the door of Classroom 2-2 open, Chie rounds on him. “Souji-kun! How are you feeling? I totally thought you were gonna skip school today!”

“Are you alright, dude?” Yosuke asks. “I’ve—we’ve—been really worried about you. You looked awful yesterday.”

“I’m fine. Just a little sore from the fight,” Souji says. A lie, of course. It’s difficult to stand for even a minute. “How’s Senpai?” 

Yosuke sighs. “She’s really worn out. When I got to her house, I told her parents that she had passed out working. Stress, maybe. They believed it. I hung around for a while to check on her, but she didn’t wake up. I doubt she’s coming to school today.”

Souji nods, pleased with Yosuke’s ability to improvise even after being thrust into a literal world inside a television. His partner really doesn’t give himself enough credit; he’s a lot smarter than he believes.

“Good thinking, Yosuke,” Souji says. “Let’s visit her after school today. We need to find out how she got into that place.” He pauses for a few moments, acting as if he’s thinking. He can only hope that it looks natural. “Maybe Ted… I mean, that bear we saw yesterday knows something about it.”

The school day passes by relatively the same. The way Yukiko practically bolts from her seat as the last bell rings doesn’t go unnoticed by Souji, and neither does the raw hurt in Chie’s eyes as she follows the motion of her sweater around the corner.

As Yosuke predicted, Saki doesn’t show up to school, so they visit her house that afternoon. Naoki Konishi greets them at the door. Right off the bat, Souji can tell this Naoki is vastly different from the last timeline — still a bit cold and distant, but his voice at least lacks the empty, haunted tone it once held. There’s a twist in Souji’s heart as he realizes that not too long ago, his own voice sounded the exact same.

Naoki leads them upstairs to Saki’s room. She’s there — asleep, but breathing and safe.

“I skipped school to take care of her today,” Naoki explains. “She woke up twice to use the bathroom, but that’s about it.”

“Has she spoken to you at all?” Souji asks. Saki had only been “missing” for a few hours yesterday, so nobody knew she was gone except for Souji, Yosuke, and Chie, but she could’ve already said something about the perpetrator to Naoki. 

“Only to say how she was feeling.” Naoki turns to Yosuke with crossed arms. “Hanamura, it’s kinda weird that she’s been sleeping all day. Didn’t she only pass out?”

Souji notes the lack of honorifics and forces himself not to laugh. Despite bending to the will of time-travel, Naoki is just as stubborn as ever. 

Yosuke’s eyes twitch — near minutely. “Uhh, yeah. But she hit the floor pretty hard.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” Souji says. Time to pull out the old bluff card. “In middle school, I passed out from heat exhaustion and spent three whole days recovering from it. I’m sure she’ll be just fine.” Naoki nods, seemingly pacified. Souji places Saki’s schoolwork he had received from her teachers on her nightstand, then turns to Yosuke and Chie. “Let’s leave her to rest.”

**

After leaving the Konishi Household, Souji walks with Yosuke and Chie down the Samegawa Floodplain. Nostalgia seeps its way into the corners of lips as the tall grass brushes against his legs, as the river flows from one ear and out the other. Relaxing by the Samegawa with his friends, sharing stories with Hisano, fishing, and feeding the stray cats were sweet memories he cherished from Inaba. He can’t wait to experience them again. 

“Sooo,” Chie says, attempting to skip a stone across the river. It sinks immediately. “I agree with what Souji-kun was saying this morning. I think we should talk to that weird bear about what the hell’s going on!” 

Yosuke crosses his arms. “You sure? He seemed suspicious to me. I don’t trust him.”

“Well me neither, man! But something tells me he knows a lotta stuff. Like, don’t ask me how I know, ‘cause I can’t explain it, but I just have a gut feeling!”

Souji comes to her rescue. “I agree with Chie. Besides, I didn’t get the impression that he was a threat.”

Yosuke rolls his eyes. “What if that’s just an act? He could totally be planning to kill us, you know! No matter how innocent he looks!” The rock he more-or-less catapults doesn’t even touch the river. Instead, it lands directly on the other side of the bank. “Why should we trust this thing that comes from a place that was obviously very dangerous?!” 

“Good point,” Souji says, despite knowing Teddie would never lay a hand—or a paw, really—on anyone. “Do you know where we can buy some weapons?”

“Ooh, I know a place!” Chie interjects. “But hey, how are we gonna find that bear again?”

Souji tosses his own rock into the river. It skips. “I have an idea.”

**

“Holy shit! You totally have a bite mark on your hand!” 

Chie points out the obvious with a shaking index finger. After paying a visit to Daidara and avoiding the dreaded Yosuke-sword-police incident by stashing their weapons under their clothes, they’d rushed straight to the electronics section. Teddie’s insatiability, it seems, is something that cannot be avoided.

“I think I’m gonna cry,” Souji deadpans, suppressing a smirk.

Yosuke sighs. “Oh, please. You’re supposed to be the tough one here!”

Chie glares at the TV, both hands on her hips. “Hey, bear! We know you’re in there!” 

“Ooh, ooh, is this a game?” Teddie's voice sounds through the TV. 

“No, dumbass!” Yosuke growls. “Listen, if we come in there, will you let us back out?” 

“Of course I will! But I need to tell you guys something beary important! Come in!”

Souji pushes himself inside the TV; his two friends follow. The familiar, nauseating sensation of descending into the TV hits him hard. A rainbow swirl of lights flash before his eyes, and pretty soon, his side meets the floor of the studio backlot with a rough slam. He’ll have to get used to falling in here again. 

Teddie introduces himself properly, then goes on to explain Personas, Shadows, and that someone has been throwing people into the TV. 

“Throwing people in…?” Yosuke asks. He turns to Souji. “Hey, do you think he means that announcer lady and Saki-senpai?”

Souji nods. “It sounds like whoever is throwing them in here intends to kill them.” He hesitates. He wants to give them a piece of information, but is it too early? After brief deliberation, he decides to just go for it. “I think whoever appears on the Midnight Channel is who gets thrown into this world.”

Yosuke lights up. “Hey, that actually makes sense! Chie, didn’t you say someone from school saw Ms. Yamano on the Midnight Channel?” 

“Yup. I heard a kid in our class say that, like, a few days before Souji-kun transferred… and then she died.” 

“Someone else appeared on the Midnight Channel a few days ago too. I couldn’t tell who it was, but it must have been Saki-senpai.”

Impressive. Yosuke really does pick up on things quickly. It’s a true goddamn mystery as to how he never found out about his best friend’s giant crush on him. 

Teddie goes on to explain how the fog differs between the TV world and their world. “The day I couldn’t sense anyone in this world, there was no fog on this side. The Shadows get really violent when the fog lifts here.”

“Ms. Yamano was found dead on a foggy day,” Souji says, sharing a look with Yosuke. He can tell his partner has already put all of the pieces together.

A look of realization crosses Chie's face. “Ohhhhh! I get it now! If there’s fog on our side, then someone dies!” She puts a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God.”

“Do you have any idea who threw those two people in here, Teddie?” Souji asks. 

“Nope,” Teddie answers. “That’s what I’ve been wondering.” Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to think that it’s them. Probably due to rescuing Saki. “But there is something else…”

More? Souji’s sure Teddie has covered everything by now. “What is it?”

“W-Well, it’s just that girl you saved yesterday… I sense something… bad from her. Not that she’s bad herself, but that there’s a scary energy around her. Almost like something bad might happen to her.”

Souji’s heart drops. But he had saved her — they had saved her. There’s no way something can happen now! She’s one of them! 

“What?!” Yosuke yells. “W-What do you mean something bad might happen to her?! Are you the one that hurt her?!”

Teddie waddles behind Souji and cowers. “No! Like I told you, someone threw her in here from your world!” 

Yosuke ignores him. He walks over, shoulders rigid and teeth clenched tight. For a moment, Souji is strongly reminded of a hospital room that paints his nightmares — of crazed eyes and a normally admirable impulsivity turned crooked.

“Yosuke…” Souji says, placing two hands on his shoulders. His voice shakes. “Don’t… don’t do something you’ll regret.”

Yosuke tilts his head, and the anger seems to drain out of him all at once. “Huh? Hey, what’s wrong? What’s the matter with you all of the sudden?”

“N-Nothing…” Souji breathes. He turns back to Teddie. “Teddie, is she in danger?”

Teddie frowns. “I dunno. I just felt that weird aura from her, like it’s a strong possibility. But I don’t want that girl to be hurt! I want whoever is throwing people in here to be caught and go to the slammer!” He looks at Souji, gaze intense and sharp. “Will you catch the culprit for me?” 

A familiar feeling hits Souji square in the chest. This, right here, is his contract: the simple question that is the genesis of the Investigation Team and his key into the Velvet Room. This is the promise he needs to fulfill, and he had failed to do so last time. He won’t fail again. 

“I promise.”

Just like that, his fate is sealed. 

**

Yukiko appears on the news that evening. Unlike last year, Souji hadn’t seen her at the gazebo near the Samegawa before coming home. Strange; so many things have played out differently compared to last time, and it’s only been four days. Yosuke didn’t face his Shadow today either. He wonders, with an unpleasant lurch in his gut, if it still exists it all.

“So,” Dojima says, breaking Souji from his thoughts, “how are you liking Inaba so far?”

Gathered around the low-table in the living room, Dojima, Nanako, and Adachi watch him with expectant faces. The focus of the news has shifted to the weather. Rain.

“I like it,” Souji answers. “The people here are nice.”

“I’ll say,” Adachi says. He lifts a piece of sushi to his mouth. “Especially that attendant at Moel. Man, that guy was so over the top.”

Dojima scowls. “Adachi, shut up and eat your food.”

“Y-Yes, sir…”

Nanako nudges Souji. “Have you made any friends yet?”

“Yes. I met three people at school.”

“Ooh, ooh! What are their names?”  

“Their names are Saki, Chie, and Yosuke. You would like them, Nanako. Especially Yosuke and Saki. They both work at Junes.”

Nanako lights up. “You have friends that work at Junes? That’s so cool!”

Dojima laughs. “You really like that place, don’t you?”

“What’s not to like?” Adachi says, sighing wistfully. “Cabbages, all the time…”

“I love Junes!” Nanako shouts, banging her little fists on the table hard enough to send Adachi’s can of Asahi spilling into his lap. “I hope that when I get older, I can work there too!” 

“I’ll be rooting for you,” Souji says with a fond smile.

He ruffles Nanako’s hair, and when she closes her eyes and lets out a laugh loud enough to be heard across the Pacific, he tries to picture himself at six years old doing the same. Somehow, the image won’t come to mind.

**

That night, after seeing Yukiko’s silhouette on the Midnight Channel, Souji enters the Velvet Room in his dreams for the first time since he time-traveled. Slow, and blue, and soft. As much as an intruder he feels when Igor and Margaret stare him down in this limousine, there’s always a sense of peace that washes over him, too.

“What have we here?” Igor says in greeting, gesturing to seemingly nowhere. 

Magaret—beautiful and ethereal as always—simply smiles at him, like she expected Souji to end up here again.

Souji explains what happened since he last saw them in March 2012, trying his best to sum up the events of the last few days. The room fills with a brief silence at his final word. 

“It seems…” Igor finally says, clasping his hands together, “that you did not fulfill the contract you agreed to, and have now found yourself stuck in a circle of time. How very interesting.”

“Well…” Souji says, voice thick with the slow fog that emerges only in dreams. “Do you know how it happened?”

Igor doesn’t respond. Souji looks toward Margaret, but all she does is stare at him with that serene smile, like she knows something he doesn’t. 

April 16, 2011

After discussing the Midnight Channel in homeroom that morning, Chie takes to calling the inn like last time, asking for Yukiko.

“Oh, thank goodness. It’s Yukiko!” Chie tells them while holding her cell phone up to her ear. “She’s safe.”

Souji knows that isn’t the case. Yukiko will be kidnapped tonight. 

“Hey, Souji,” Yosuke says. It always catches him off guard to hear his actual name from Yosuke’s lips instead of the partner he’s become so accustomed to. Souji turns around in his chair to face him. “I think we should go back in the TV today. Someone appeared on the Midnight Channel last night, and it’s apparently not Yukiko-san, so maybe another person is over there. I think you’re onto something with that ‘people who appear on the Midnight Channel show up in the TV world’ thing.”

Souji nods. “I agree. Someone else might really be suffering in there.”

The school day passes by. Saki doesn’t show up, as expected. They stop by her house on the way to Junes that afternoon, but she’s still sleeping, and still hasn’t revealed any information to her family. Before Souji even realizes it, they’re standing at attention in the studio backlot, armed to the teeth.

“Wow!” Teddie says. “You really came back!” 

Souji smiles and gives him a pat on the head. “Of course we did. We made a promise to you — a promise we intend to keep.”

“Well, there’s something you guys should know. I sense a really strong Shadow nearby. It smells just like those two people that were thrown in here!”

Souji tries not to let the relief show on his face. This must be Yosuke’s Shadow. “Can you take us to where it is?”

To Souji’s surprise, Teddie leads them to the Samegawa riverbed instead of the Konishi Liquor Store. A male figure sits by the river, clad in a Yasogami uniform and red-orange headphones around his neck. He turns around as they come closer, and those lifeless, golden eyes cut like a knife through Souji’s heart.

There’s no mistaking it. That’s-

“M-Me?!” Yosuke yells, pointing at his Shadow before him. 

Chie points at it, too. “Yosuke, i-is that…?”

Souji steels himself. Since this is a new setting, he supposes the words the Shadow is about to say will be new as well. As Yosuke takes a few steps backward—breaths ragged and hands no longer steady—he wonders just how much more this timeline will diverge. 

“Where are you going?” the Shadow asks, voice dangerously low. Yosuke stills. He clenches his eyes shut and balls his hands into fists at his sides. “Look at me.”

Yosuke doesn’t budge. 

Souji very hesitantly puts a hand on Yosuke’s shaking shoulder. “Try to calm down. I know it’s hard, but if this is anything like Saki-senpai, then all you have to do is listen.”

The Shadow scoffs. “You make it sound so easy. Do you even have room to talk? You didn’t face your Shadow, after all.”

“W-What?” Yosuke sputters. He opens his eyes. “Don’t talk to him like that!”

“Yosuke, it’s alri-“

“Why not?” the Shadow interrupts, picking up a stone and lazily tossing it in mid-air. “It’s not like he cares about you, you know? It’s not like anybody cares about you. And why should they? After all, you’re the one that robbed them of a job, and you’re the one that they don’t shut the hell up about in the streets.” It catches the stone, stopping its movements completely. Its voice drops even lower. “But it doesn’t bother me, I swear. ‘Yeah, Dad — I really like Inaba. Yes, Mom — I’ve made a lot of new friends. Don’t worry about me’.” 

“H-Hey-“ Chie starts.

Teddie shakes his head. “No, Chie-chan. You’ll just make it angrier.” He looks to Yosuke. “Yosuke, it’s like I said before. If you deny your Shadow, it’ll go bearserk!”

“Teddie’s right,” Souji says. “It’s just like what happened with Senpai.” He rubs Yosuke’s shoulder. “You can do this, Yosuke. I know you can.”

The Shadow stands and comes closer. “Are you really going to listen to these idiots? What about me?” It jabs a finger into Yosuke’s chest. “They don’t know a thing about you, but me? I know everything. I know that you hate this town and will do anything to ease your boredom, like, say, exploring a world inside the TV?” Yosuke looks at his Shadow with pleading eyes; it presses its finger harder in response. “Don’t give me that shit! You and I both know I’m right. What’s wrong, afraid to look bad in front of your new buddy here?” 

“S-Stop it…”

“Why? Why should I stop? Why shouldn’t I say everything you’re thinking?”

“Because… Because I…” 

“Because you… what?” the Shadow asks, voice dripping with satisfaction. “Don’t want to lose anyone else? Come on, we both know this little team won’t last. In a few months—maybe even weeks—the murder of that announcer will be solved, you’ll go your separate ways, and this TV world you’re so fond of will be nothing more than a fleeting dream. Before you know it, you’ll be back at Junes stocking shelves, trying desperately not to succumb to the emptiness that follows you around like a goddamn dog. Sounds about right, don’t you think?” 

A breeze rushes past Souji’s ear. It swirls the grass at his feet, churns the river before him; it’s not unlike the ominous wind right before a nasty thunderstorm. 

“Come on,” the Shadow says, beckoning Yosuke over with a faux, sticky-sweet smile on its face. “Let’s hold hands and skip back on over to Inaba! It’ll be a real treat to hear the gossip right about now.” It loses the smile, eyes hardening. “Those women who spend their time in the shopping district, what do they say again? ‘Oh, that’s Hanamura-san’s kid. Don’t speak to him. That family is nothing but trouble’. And the kids in the next class over? ‘Why do none of the girls here talk to you, Hanamura? You some kinda queer?’ ‘Damn Akiyama, I bet that’s it!’ ‘Hey, isn’t your dad the manager of the Junes here? He should be pretty well-off then. So why can’t he buy you a better bike? Is it ‘cause he hates you? I wouldn’t be surprised. You seem like a major disappointment’.”

“As if I give a damn what they say!” Yosuke growls. “Y-You’re… you’re full of shit.”

The Shadow laughs. “Oh yeah? How about Chie? ‘Ugh, you are so useless, Yosuke! I let you borrow one thing of mine and you treat it like trash! I mean, you’re just so selfish’. And she’s right, you know. You put on a show of being happy-go-lucky, but why even bother? Everyone already knows who you really are: selfish, useless, and nothing short of disappointing.”

“Fuck y-“ Yosuke starts, but the Shadow cuts him off with a severe backhand, then a knee to the stomach. Yosuke curls in on himself with a groan. The Shadow yanks him by the hair and shoves his face into the ground. Jesus, are Shadows usually this violent?

Chie gasps and rushes over, but Souji seizes her by the waist and holds her back. 

“It’s hurting him!” Chie yells. She flails in his grip. “We have to stop it!” 

“I know, Chie,” Souji says, genuinely wanting nothing more than to help Yosuke out himself. “But he has to face this himself. It’s his Shadow. Not ours.”

The Shadow lifts Yosuke’s head up. Blood trails from his dirt-smeared nose — all the way down his neck until it stains his uniform. “That announcer that died… Yamano, was it? Now that was interesting. Finally, something fucking happened in Inaba! And then poor, poor Saki.” It wipes its eyes and sniffs. “It’s just so sad—all those mean things she said about you—but lucky for you!” It perks up immediately. “Maybe she’ll die and then Inaba can have even more to talk about! Maybe you’ll even solve her murder, like a detective! Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“I do not think that about her!” Yosuke yells, twisting in the Shadow’s hold to look at Souji, Chie, and Teddie with crazed eyes. “It’s lying. D-Don’t listen to it. Don’t listen to any of it!”

The Shadow puts a hand to its ear. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Yosuke, please don’t say it,” Souji begs. 

“I said,” Yosuke starts, “that you’re lying. I don’t think any of what you’ve said.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” 

“Because…” Yosuke says. He hesitates, then straightens up in the Shadow’s grip. “Because you are absolutely not me!”

The Shadow lights up, baring teeth in a full-on, absolutely demonic smile. It laughs and laughs and laughs as it grows in intensity, then finally releases Yosuke. A dark cloud surrounds the Shadow, only dissipating once it reveals its true form: Shadow Yosuke, red scarf and camouflage legs akin to a twisted version of Jiraiya. Yosuke’s knees buckle before it, and Souji reaches his hands under his friend’s arms before he hits the ground. 

“Chie, Teddie, get away!” Souji urgently yells. “Izanagi, come!” He crushes the small, blue card and watches as Izanagi surges forth from his heart, shielding him and Yosuke from the Shadow. He holds Yosuke’s head in his lap—completely unconscious—as Izanagi successfully lands a Zio attack on the Shadow. Shadow Yosuke staggers, then tumbles to the ground, momentarily vulnerable. Now is his chance. He gently places Yosuke on the ground and stands before him. “Let’s do this!”

The fight continues on. Shadow Yosuke grows weaker and weaker, and Souji himself takes quite a few hits. Zio and Garu intertwine with one another, strikes of lightning and wild gale charging the air with dangerous energy, making for a scene straight out of one of those extreme weather documentaries. Souji always thought it was fitting that he and Yosuke are weak to each other. As soon as he knocks the Shadow down, it gets right back up and swirls his mind in the form of a Garu attack. They balance each other out; one isn’t able to outmaneuver the other. Despite that, neither wants to back down. Equals through and through.

“Just leave me alone! Leave me the hell alone!” the Shadow screams, slamming its camouflaged limbs over and over onto the ground. “Why are you trying to get involved in my life and make it worse for me?! All you’ll do is leave me in the end!” 

“I won’t leave you, Yosuke…” Souji says softly.

The Shadow suddenly grows very still, then dissipates, turning back into the human form of Shadow Yosuke. Souji glances behind him to where Yosuke lies, but he isn’t budging. He looks back in front of himself. Shadow Yosuke is no longer there. 

“Looking for me?” a voice whispers in Souji’s ear. He attempts to turn around, but is punched hard in the face before he can do so. He falls to the ground directly next to his friend as he blacks out.

**

“There’s still nothing here, but I have family and friends… and you.”

“I want to be equal with you. I want us to stand shoulder-to-shoulder.”

“I’m sorry, Saki-senpai. I’m sorry… Souji.”

Souji slowly opens his eyes. In a vaguely familiar room—painted in reds and blacks, boxed in by velvet curtains—there Yosuke is. Not the Yosuke he knows now, but a version lost to time. He takes up residence between the static lines of multiple televisions, stacked in the shape of a pyramid near the center of the room; Souji immediately chases after him, yet his hands only meet the TV screen.

“Weird, isn’t it?” a voice asks from behind him.

Shadow Yosuke, through and through. Souji reaches for his katana, and when he realizes it isn’t sheathed on his back anymore, he attempts to summon Izanagi. No card appears; no thunder rattles off the walls and sends the Shadow falling to its knees. 

“Relax. I’m not gonna hurt you,” the Shadow says, raising its hands placatingly. It comes closer and taps one of the TV screens. “These are memories, aren’t they? Memories of last time?”

Souji gapes. “H-How do you…?”

The Shadow smiles. “Don’t worry about it.” It lingers on a particular screen—one broadcasting the memory of Souji hugging Yosuke tight by the Samegawa—then moves its gaze to another. A fence, a hill, and all of Inaba below it. “I like this one.”

“I…” Souji says, throat growing tight and vision blurry. He swallows and blinks through them both, then says, “I do too.” He leans his head against the screen and hangs onto Yosuke’s speech about Inaba, Saki, and life intently, as if he was right there in the moment once more. “You told me I was special…”

“Were you going to tell me something?” the Shadow asks, gesturing to the hesitant expression onscreen-Souji wears as Yosuke tells him just that.

A sense of realization passes through Souji. “Is this a dream?”

“What do you think?”

Judging by the way the existence of this room barely phases him and how he doesn’t remember getting here in the first place, the way Sony written on the border of the television looks a bit more like Sorry, and the way his watch is telling him the current time is 1104:0727, Souji thinks his question has more-or-less been answered already. 

“I was going to tell you that I love you…” Souji admits in a whisper. He traces Sorry with his index finger until the letters rearrange themselves into Souji. “That you’re special to me, too — that I’ve never had anyone in my life who truly fit that label before.” He looks at his watch again. 0622:94 glares back at him, and he suddenly feels so, so miserable. “But…”

“My house is there — the one with that funky roof,” onscreen-Yosuke says. He puts a hand over Souji’s and points in the direction of his house, and he’s too preoccupied with his task to notice that Souji’s hand is trembling within his. “Meaning yours is…”

“But I was too scared to say any of it…” Souji finishes, ignoring the tear that trails down his face. 

The Shadow gently takes his hand. Even now, it shakes just as bad as it did that day on the hill. “You will someday, won’t you?”

“I… I don’t…”

“Someday, right?” the Shadow asks again. It pulls Souji in until their noses brush, then kisses him slowly, softly — warm in a way that doesn’t correlate to the usual frigidity of a Shadow. Souji doesn’t make any attempt to stop it. “Someday, partner. Someday, someday…”

“Someday,” Souji promises, and when a voice in the back of his mind screams never, he drowns it out by whispering, “Yosuke.”

**

When Souji opens his eyes this time, it’s to find Yosuke’s Shadow standing over him at the Samegawa. And he knows this is real, because he clearly remembers the Shadow knocking his lights out just moments before, and when he chances a look at his watch, it’s stuck on 15:21 — the exact time they entered the TV world today.

The Shadow nods in silent understanding. Souji returns it.

“Souji-kun!” Chie yells. “Thank God, you’re awake!”

“Sennnnnnseeeeei!” Teddie hollers.

Souji gives both of them a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he stands. Together, they watch as Yosuke regains consciousness and inevitably meets his Shadow eye-to-eye.

“Yosuke,” Souji says, trying not to think about the way his name had sounded so loud on his lips just seconds ago. “This is a part of you, and it’s not fair to deny it. You’ll only be running in circles if you don’t.”

Yosuke crosses his arms. Begrudgingly, he begins to speak. “I… I didn’t want to admit it, but I do feel that way. I don’t see myself as particularly worthwhile, and truthfully, I liked the thrill of going into this world. I hoped to be a savior… or something.” He sighs, then straightens up. “There’s no use in denying it, huh? When you get down to it, you’re me and I’m you.”

The Shadow falls as soon as the words leave his lips. Jiraiya reigns down from the sky—just as cool and effortless as last time—and Yosuke’s smile as he looks upon the strength of his own heart is nothing short of sincere.

**

It takes a while—a long while—but Souji manages to walk Yosuke to his house after the battle. Yosuke’s arm is wrapped around his waist for support; Souji can’t help but lean into the touch.

“Hey, thank you for all your help back there. I can’t imagine how much that took out of you,” Yosuke says just outside his house. He rubs the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “And… thanks for not ditching me even after all my Shadow said. You’re really an amazing guy, you know that?”

Souji rubs Yosuke’s shoulder. “You’re pretty amazing yourself.”

“Did anyone in Tokyo ever tell you that you’re too nice?” Yosuke asks, ruffling Souji’s hair. He makes his way to the front door, then lets out a deep breath. “I think… I’m gonna sleep well tonight.”

Souji smiles. And when the wind—a forever reminder of Yosuke in and of itself—sends his hair into further undoing, he thinks of tonight, and tomorrow, and next week, and the gentle promise of someday. “You do that, partner.”

Chapter Text

April 17, 2011

Knock, knock, knock.

Actually, Souji thinks, it’s a little more like knock, pound, hack through the goddamn door with an axe. He groans and rolls over in bed, checking the time on his alarm clock. 07:09. Did this happen last time? Already, the memories of this timeline and the last are starting to blend together. 

When he opens the front door to reveal a wild-eyed, disheveled Chie tripping over her words about Yukiko, disappeared, Midnight Channel, it all comes back to him in full-force. After offering her tea in an attempt to console—which just ends up spilling down the front of her jacket until the mug is shattered to pieces at her feet, leading to Nanako running downstairs and stepping in the pool of blood on the kitchen floor and covering her ears at the way Chie near scream-sobs into Souji’s shoulder and oh God, how is it so much worse this time around?—Souji calls Yosuke. Thirty minutes later, the three of them follow Teddie’s lead to Yukiko’s castle. Chie takes off running as soon as they get there — more of a limp, really. The gauze Souji wrapped around her injured foot fails to do its job, and drops of blood stain the carpets an even darker red. At the very least, it makes it all the more easier to find Chie and her Shadow a floor up. 

“Still, Chie told me that red looks good on me…” Yukiko’s voice echoes off the walls. The room grows warmer; a line of sweat trails down the back of Souji’s neck. “Chie’s the only one that gives my life meaning.”

“She says she’s worthless!” Shadow Chie taunts, clutching a hand to its stomach in laughter. “That’s how it should be, right?”

Another line of sweat — this time at his temple. Souji takes off his glasses and wipes at it. 

The Shadow smirks. “Yukiko knows the score. She can’t do anything if I’m not around.” It puts a hand around its own throat; the smirk grows infinitely wider. “I’ll never loosen my grip on her.”

As Souji begins to pull his shirt off his skin repeatedly to get air flowing—as the awful, unmistakable vice-grip of fear seizes his chest and claws its way up his throat—he doesn’t understand why Yosuke and Teddie aren’t having a similar reaction. 

“C-Can you…” Souji breathes, weakly tapping Yosuke on the arm. “Can you find me a sedative?”

Yosuke frowns. “What’s a sedative?” He puts the back of his hand to Souji’s forehead. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Don’t… don’t we have sedatives yet? Can you check our supply?”

Yosuke moves his hand to his cheek, apparently checking for a fever. “What bruised eye?” Souji flinches. Yosuke immediately removes his hand, eyes wide. “What?”

“What did you just say?”

“What supply?”

“No you didn’t. You said… you said…”

A scream from Shadow Chie as it begins its full-fledged transformation cuts Souji short. He tries to summon Izanagi. He fails.

“Listen, can you fight?” Yosuke asks.

Souji shakes his head. “I-I can’t even summon him…”

“Then I guess it’s my turn to fight for you.” Yosuke gestures to Teddie. “Ted, take Souji and Chie and stand back. And Jiraiya…” With a confident smirk, he tosses his kunai and summons Jiraiya. “Let’s do this.”

Teddie drags Souji and an unconscious Chie to the stone benches lining the room. Souji sits on one, keenly aware of every tiny sensation — the rough scratch of a curtain against his knee as it bounces out of his control, the sound of Teddie’s feet squeaking as he situates Chie on a bench, and the blinding after-images of Garu and Bufu spells seared behind his eyelids as Yosuke and Shadow Chie fight just yards away. Irritating, irritating, irritating.

“Sensei,” Teddie says, finally sitting down. He rubs his paws together. “Um, how do you know what a sedative is?”

“Oh…” Souji mumbles. Oh is right; how has he already forgotten to watch what he says? “We have them on our side too. Sometimes they’re used for sleep. Or, you know…” He gestures to his restless leg. “To calm you down.”

Teddie nods, but he doesn’t look very reassured. Neither of them have much time to dwell on it though, as Yosuke lands the finishing blow and Chie sends the Shadow away forever with guilty admittances and a few tears. Soon after, Yosuke drags them both home and into bed, and when he pulls the sheets tight around Souji and crouches by the futon, the inevitable look of scrutiny crosses his face once more.

“Hey, so uh…” Yosuke starts slowly, rubbing his neck. “What happened back there?”

A status ailment, Souji wants to say. Except he knows that isn’t quite right. He didn’t fight even one Shadow today, and neither Yosuke or Teddie had been affected upon arrival at floor two. As embarrassing as it is, he’s left to face the only other possibility — a panic attack. It’s been a long time since he last had one; the overwhelming exhaustion that follows it was almost forgotten.

“I think…” Souji says, swallowing through the constriction in his throat, “that Chie’s Shadow reminded me of something.”

“Of what?”

“Of…” Bruised eye. Bruised eye. Bruised eye. “Um, what did you say earlier? When I asked you for a sedative?”

Yosuke’s brow furrows. “I asked what supply you were talking about. What do you think I said?”

Souji sighs. “Nothing. I guess I’m just tired.”

“Then get some rest.” Yosuke gives him a smile and tugs the comforter up one last time. Somehow, it seems to grow warmer when it’s touched by him. “Night, partner.”

And even though he just said he was tired, Souji finds himself drawn to the mirror in the bathroom late that night. He stares at the skin around his eyes for what seems like hours — prods it, pushes down. No blemishes mark it, but when he closes his eyes to his reflection, he can feel the pain that once existed there clear as day.

“Souji-kun, what’s with the bruised eye?” Michiaki Hirata says — his classmate from elementary school. He points at the mark, and with a joking laugh says, “Did someone give it to you?”

Souji leans forward on his desk until his head is resting on his arms, effectively hiding the bruise. The wry smile that curls the corner of his lips remains visible. “Yes.”

“O-Oh…” Michiaki mumbles, laughter abruptly fading. “Who?”

“My…” Souji starts, then stops. The truth hangs on the tip of his tongue, and yet the guilt that churns in his stomach kills the last word immediately. He buries his head further; the smile grows wider. “Myself.”

“Liar,” Souji tells his reflection when he opens his eyes. 

He turns his back on the mirror, and he knows the flash of gold in his peripheral as he does so isn’t a trick of the light. 

April 18, 2011

Saki shows up to school the next day. As soon as the final bell rings, they book it to her classroom and—after explaining Personas, Shadows, and all applicable terminology—more-or-less interrogate her.

“The thing is,” Souji says, “someone must’ve kidnapped you like they’ve done with Yukiko. I imagine it’s because you were the one who found Mayumi Yamano’s body that day. Do you remember anything strange that happened? Anyone suspicious?”

Saki shakes her head. “I don’t. I’m really sorry.” She anxiously taps her fingers on her desk. “All I remember is that I made a statement at the police station, then went home. I don’t remember anything after that, and I didn’t see anyone suspicious.”

“No one followed you home or anything?” Chie asks.

Saki frowns. “Like I said, I don’t remember...”

“It’s alright,” Yosuke says. “We don’t even know much about the TV world; it could fuck with our memories for all we know.” He grimaces at the thought, then leans against Saki’s desk. “So what about the police? Did you tell them what happened?”

“No. What’s the point? I don’t have a clue what happened, after all. And to be honest, I’m kind of tired of going down to the station.”

“Well, it’s your choice I guess…” Chie mumbles. She shares a pointed look with Souji and Yosuke — Who the hell did this to her? The thought knocks on the door of Souji’s mind like a relentless salesperson. Something tells him this isn’t Namatame’s doing, but a different culprit entirely. “Hey, Souji-kun. Are you gonna… you know…?”

“I will,” Souji says. He fixes Saki with a serious look. “Senpai, we want to figure out what’s happening in Inaba and put a stop to it. Since you have a Persona, you’d be a lot of help. You don’t have to decide right now, but-“

Saki interrupts. “I want to help you.” The late afternoon sun streaming through the windows catches in her eyes; the resolve within them is overwhelming. "I don’t want anyone else to end up like how I could’ve. You all… you all saved my life. Please let me join you.”

Souji smiles, genuine and soft. “Of course.”

Saki returns his smile ten-fold. A warm sensation spreads across Souji’s chest, and the image of a tarot card flashes before his eyes, blurring the scene completely. The Magus; Saki Konishi. 

Saki follows them into the TV that day, and together they continue the climb to Yukiko. She proves herself fantastic in battle; Inari Ōkami eviscerates Shadows with light, dark, and incredible physical attacks, leaving absolutely nothing unscathed. She even puts Souji to shame, who—by some grace of the Velvet Room—now has his high level Personas from the last timeline at his disposal. Exhausted, they stop right before confronting Shadow Yukiko. 

“Saki-senpai’s amazing, isn’t she?” Yosuke gushes as he and Souji walk home together that evening. The roads are painted entirely in soothing oranges and reds. “I mean, I had no idea she was so strong!”

“Yeah, she’s pretty great,” Souji says. His next words are softer. “All of us are.”

Yosuke rubs his nose behind a twitching grin. “Hey Souji, I was pretty worried about you yesterday.” He throws an arm around his shoulder. “Feeling alright now?”

“For the most part.” Souji tries not to focus on how perfectly Yosuke’s arm fits around him — how easily his own name falls from his lips. He fails. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Maybe not, but it’s nice to have someone looking out for you, right?”

A sheepish grin splits across Souji’s face at that sentiment. He moves impossibly closer, and in return, Yosuke opens his arm as wide as it will go.

April 19, 2011

“Historic inn? Manager training?” Shadow Yukiko asks. “I’m sick of all of these things chaining me down!” It takes off its crown and snaps it in half, then hurls it at Yukiko. “I don’t want to be secured by strings anymore; I want to be free.”

“You can be…” Chie says softly. She inches closer to Yukiko and picks up the pieces of the crown. “Your life is your own.”

Shadow Yukiko scowls. “You’re full of shit. If that’s the truth, then why haven’t I left this place yet?!” The proverbial lightbulb flickers to life over its head. “Oh, that’s right! Because I can’t do it unless someone puts a collar around my throat and drags me by the leash!”

Once again, sweat seeps through Souji’s uniform and from the ends of his hair. The room blurs, stone pillars and gold-trimmed bird cages spinning in his peripheral; his throat tightens until it nearly chokes him. But today, he’s come prepared. He knocks a sedative back before panic can consume him, then faces the Shadow head-on right as it transforms into its true self.

The cage slices through the room like a metronome. The force of it spreads the flames from its attacks more efficiently, hellfire raining down until it singes the ankle of Souji’s pants and Saki’s skirt. Yosuke and Chie have a little more luck on their side with wind and ice. Jiraiya’s gale does a good job of sending the flames right back at the Shadow, but the sub-zero chill that spreads from the end of Tomoe’s naginata and halts the heat dead in its tracks takes the cake. The perfect counterbalance. The four of them—alongside Teddie’s helpful navigation—are a well-oiled machine, and it doesn’t take long before Shadow Yukiko falls and Konohana Sakuya takes its place. 

“Want… fried tofu…” Yukiko mumbles as Souji and Chie tuck her into bed a while later. 

Souji laughs. “Don’t we all?”

“Sheesh,” Chie groans. “Go to sleep, goofball. Oh, wait!” She takes a stuffed dog off a shelf in her room and slides it under Yukiko’s arm. It looks suspiciously like Muku, brown spots in the same place and all. “There we go.”

“Mm. Love you, Chie…” Yukiko whispers, followed by a loud snore.

Chie reddens, just slightly. “Y-Yeah… Love you too…”

“She’s lucky to have you,” Souji tells Chie as they close the front door of Yukiko’s house. “I can tell you care about her a lot.”

“Haven’t you ever had someone you care about, Souji-kun?” Chie jokes. She pats him on the shoulder and leads them in the direction of her own house. “But really, I do. I care about Yukiko more than anyone. And… that’s why I hate how trapped she feels. Like she has no power over her own life…”

“She does have power.”

“R-Right…” Chie looks a little caught off-guard by his tone, but carries on nonetheless. “I want her to realize that. I want to help her realize that. Like, if you felt like that—powerless and stuck under someone else’s control—wouldn’t it be nice to hear someone tell you different?”

Souji smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It would be.”

**

“What happened? Did you fall or something? It’s a pretty big bruise.”

Michiaki is there before him. Except now, he’s not standing next to Souji’s desk from elementary school; instead, he’s sitting on the couch in his room with stiff legs and empty eyes. Still ten — still dark hair and crooked glasses as always. 

Souji looks at his alarm clock on the dresser. For some reason, he’s having trouble reading it, but the moon outside his window is high in the sky, meaning it must be close to midnight. The shadows that stretch from the window don’t extend across the length of his bedroom. They reach to Michiaki. And to Michiaki only.

“How did you get here?” Souji asks, voice thick and slow — like his mouth is full of cotton.

Michiaki stares at him for several minutes. Silent; ominous. The shadows don’t move. “I guess you must’ve fallen. Still, I was worried for a second. I thought you might be in trouble or something.” He tilts his head; the glasses slip from his face and to the carpet. “Are you in trouble?”

A vibration pulses under Souji’s feet. A second later, the muffled, militaristic stomp of footsteps accompanies it. They become less muffled with each step, until finally they’re loud enough and forceful enough to feel like violent knocks to the head. 

“You are in trouble, aren’t you?” Michiaki asks. He jerks his head toward the door. “Sounds like someone’s out there. Are you going to let them in?”

“N-No…” Souji breathes. “I know who it is.”

“Then don’t be scared.”

Michiaki grabs him by the wrist. He puts Souji’s hand against the doorknob, and when Souji looks down, his hand is suddenly a lot smaller, the doorknob bigger — now at eye-level instead of several inches below him. No longer a carpet under his feet; no longer an extension cord digging into his heel. It’s his childhood room, or at least one of them — the one from when he was ten, right along the outskirts of Shibuya. Michiaki is gone, but his glasses remain, and they’re nearly crushed to pieces in the next moment by the person on the other side of the door finally making their entrance. 

“Please don’t h-hurt me,” Souji begs, voice high and cracking in the absence of his teenage years. “I’ve been doing good, I swear! You can ask Uncle!”

Reiko Seta looms above him, all dark eyes and gritted teeth. The subtle twitch of her clenched fists always gives it away before it happens — the inevitable arm to the throat, violent and unforgiving, forcing Souji against the wall and choking his breath altogether. 

“Why would I need to ask him when I can see in your eyes that you aren’t doing your best? That you aren’t number one?”

Souji struggles in her hold. “Why do I have to be number one? Why can’t you still be proud of me when I’m number ten, or twenty, or two hundred? Why does a letter on a piece of paper change my worth?!”

He manages to pull her arm away enough that he can slip under it completely. Then—with all the might of a ten year old—he pushes her at the waist. She stumbles onto Michiaki’s glasses, and the resulting blood from her foot trickles into the crevices of the wood floor faster than Souji can keep up with. He bolts to the door, crosses the threshold and slams it shut behind him, and finds himself staring at…

“Souji-kun…” Namatame says, breath reeking of medicine and hospital chemicals. A familiar room sits behind him — one filled with IV bags, an erratically beeping heart monitor, and a crackling TV off to the side. He gestures to Souji’s hands. “Your guilt is showing.”

Souji looks down at hands still six years too young. Blood — everywhere, all at once. There’s so much more of it than when his mother had stepped on the glasses. What’s more, it isn’t fresh blood; it’s old. Brown, rust-like. Pungent and revolting, like it’s been souring in the palms of his hands for months on end. 

“It’s not easy to forget, is it?” Namatame asks, tilting his head toward the dark TV. “Your sins, your crimes. You haven’t even admitted to yours, and yet you want to see me punished for mine.”

Namatame lurches forward; on instinct, Souji takes a step backward, but instead of his foot meeting tile, it slams against the firm material of a gurney. Namatame binds his arms and legs with the tight belts attached to it, then holds up a syringe and three marked bottles: sodium thiopental, pancuronium bromide, and potassium chloride. An execution, through and through.

“Attempted murder,” Namatame says, filling the syringe with the first bottle and then prodding it against the vein in Souji’s arm. “In the first degree, the jury found.”

“S-Stop it!” Souji thrashes in the gurney, tugs and pulls and yanks against the restraints like a crazed animal. “Stop it, stop it, stop it! I didn’t want… I don’t…” He sobs until his throat grows raw. “I wish I c-could take it back…”

Namatame unties the belts. “Fine. If you won’t accept your punishment…” He pulls Souji along until he’s face-to-face with the TV. Static burns the side of his face raw — singes the ends of his hair and fills the room with an acrid smell. “Then I’ll make you repent another way!” 

Souji spirals into the TV. He falls faster, and faster, and faster, until finally he’s looking at the end of the world in the form of the TV world’s slow fog. The cold metal of the catwalk digs into his stomach, and above him, the rough pull of fingernails in his hair makes him reach behind himself in search of the assailant. 

“You have to repent for your sins. How does the saying go, Souji?” Reiko’s voice asks from behind him. “Oh, that’s right.” She yanks him up, then slams his face against the metal. Something in his nose cracks; a poorly screwed nail near the railing scrapes along the bottom of his eye. “An eye for an eye.”

“I’m… I’m in trouble…” Souji tells the catwalk, imagining Michiaki’s face—or his tutor’s face, his doctor’s face, anyone at all—somewhere within the growing pool of blood. It creeps along the metal until it drips right over the edge, tainting the swirl of fog beneath him. “I’m really, really in trouble…”

“You aren’t in trouble,” Reiko says, turning him over to lie on his back. “Trouble follows you.” She runs a finger under his eye. “That's why you have this.” Across his nose. “And this. It’s your fault, right? If anyone asks, that’s what you’ll tell them. Understand?”

Souji shakes his head. The resulting slap across the face and arm against his throat was completely expected. 

“Understand?” Reiko asks again — voice low and dangerous. Her arm presses so hard that he sees stars. “What will you say, Souji Seta?”

“It’s m-my fault…” Souji rasps, closing his eyes and desperately wishing away the nightmare before him. “I did this to myself.”

**

Souji wakes with an almighty slap to the face. He reflexively shields himself with two arms, but when he realizes the weight against his nose is his cell phone and not his mother’s hand, his arms come back down, his breathing slows, his phone… vibrates?

Partner :D — 01:24
> ur in troupe le??? wtf does tht mean dude. y r u up so late? u ok?

Souji frowns. He scrolls up to the previous message, and it all starts making much more sense. 

Souji Seta — 01:21
> im inf troupe le

With a deep sigh, he starts doing damage control.

Souji Seta — 01:24
> I’m fine, sorry. I think I tried to text you in a dream. I woke up with my phone in my hand.

Partner :D — 01:25
> omg ur dreamin of me?? plz tell me im not a loser in ur subconscious 2…

Souji smiles, just a little. 

Souji Seta — 01:25
> What makes you think you’re a loser when I’m conscious?

Partner :D — 01:25
> lol ur full of shit. hope u get sum rest prtnr. see u 2mrw

Souji Seta — 01:26
> I’ll see you in my dreams, Yosuke.

Souji stands from the futon and makes his way toward the bathroom. Just like the other night, there isn’t a bruise around his eye when he looks in the mirror, but there are slight red marks under his eye, down his cheek, and across his nose. The last one is easily written off by his cell phone nearly giving him a concussion. It takes a little while longer to figure out the first two—too focused on willing away images of the nightmare still fresh in his mind—but eventually he recalls the uncomfortable sensation of waking with half of his face pressed against a pillow. For the second time today, it all starts to make sense. 

He thumbs under his eye, remembers the way his mother had done the same exact thing so many years ago. Not in the nightmare, no. In Tokyo, with a conscious mind and clear intention — right after sending him straight into the harsh steel of the refrigerator. His father had cleaned the dripping blood off the fridge in the aftermath, and when Souji asked him why he hadn’t said anything, why he hadn’t stepped in and protected his son, he handed the red-soaked rag to Souji and told him to go wash it until it’s white again. 

“Stop crying…” Souji says to his reflection, sniffing and wiping at his face. “It’s not that bad. She just wants me to do my best. If I did my best, then I wouldn’t get hurt at all. If I did my best, then…” He stares at himself intently — until he’s sure the glass is going to shatter into a million pieces. He has her eyes, and her lips; the same stubborn cowlick, the same scar on his left hand. “She’d love me, right?”

Chapter Text

April 30, 2011

“What, I got somethin’ on my fuckin’ face?! Stop staring at me and move on!”  

Yosuke hurriedly averts his gaze as Kanji stomps his way out of the Yasogami bathrooms. Then, he nudges Souji at the sink next to him. “Damn, I was just looking at the guy’s piercings! Wonder if they even allow all that here…”

“You wear headphones everyday,” Souji says, grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser. 

Yosuke flings excess water off his hands and into Souji’s face. “And you pop your collar, smartass.”

It’s the first time Souji has even seen Kanji at school this time around, which is strange, because he doesn’t remember him showing up until sometime in May. Some things never change though, as Kanji still sports several plush keychains on his backpack. With all the knitting, sewing, and crocheting his friend had taught him last time, Souji could probably show Kanji himself a thing or two he doesn't already know. 

As he and Yosuke make their way to Yasogami’s rooftop, Souji glances warily at him, thinking of the camping trip and all the other times he had unnecessarily put Kanji down. It isn’t right in the slightest; Kanji is their friend. Yosuke is—for the most part—a kind person by nature, so why is he so hung up on something as minor as Kanji’s sexuality? Why can’t he just leave it?

“Is it just me…” Yosuke says, opening the door to the roof, “or does it smell like there’s some good food up here?”

Lo and behold, there are Chie and Yukiko with their bowls of soba like last time. Saki sits next to them with a bento. Yukiko looks much healthier than she had been just a few weeks ago, and seeing her laughing—head thrown back, nearly slamming right into the walls of the roof—warms Souji’s heart in a way that he can’t describe. 

“Really, Saki-senpai!” Yukiko gushes through said laughter. “I seriously saw this boy around town who had the measurements of Featherman Blue! He was super short, just like how he appears on television!”

Chie cuts through their conversation. “Uh, but I saw a picture once where Featherman Red and Blue were standing next to each other, and they didn’t have much of a height difference.”

“Th-That must have been an edited image…” Yukiko spots Souji and Yosuke walking toward them. “Oh, Souji-kun!” Her eyes practically plead with him. “You like Featherman too, right?”

Souji hums in confirmation and puts a hand to his chin, appearing as though in deep thought. After a brief moment of deliberation, he says, “Featherman Blue is definitely short.”

“No way!” Chie spits soba back into the bowl, livid. “You’ve got it all wrong! Pink is the short one. They probably just use someone short for Blue as his stunt double! And anyways…”

Souji smiles fondly as Chie rambles on. Yukiko grows more dejected by the minute, while Saki and Yosuke just sit dumbfounded by the entire conversation. There’s still a long way to go, but at least they have these moments in between — where for a split-second they aren’t the Investigation Team or wielders of Persona, but merely friends oblivious to the precious time ticking past them.

May 15, 2011

“And you’re sure it was Kanji Tatsumi you saw?” Yosuke asks. “The guy with all those earrings?”

“Positive,” Souji says, the echo of his lie lingering in the air around the regular table at Junes. Kanji’s silhouette on the Midnight Channel was just as blurry as the last time Souji had seen it an entire year ago, and though he hates the bitter taste of it on his tongue, the lie of a crystal-clear TV screen is sure to expedite the process of saving their friend. 

“I know Kanji Tatsumi!” Saki says.

Souji tilts his head in genuine confusion. “You do?”

“Mhm. He and Naoki used to play together as kids, and he’s been coming to Home Ec a lot recently.”

Yosuke nearly chokes on his soda. “Home Ec? You’re kidding, right?” He laughs. “Mister Big Scary Biker Guy goes there?”

Saki pokes at the loose buttons on Yosuke’s jacket. “Hey, you could learn a thing or two from him!” 

“Should we go see if Teddie’s noticed anything different on his side?” Chie asks.

“You all do that.” Souji stands and points to the arcade inside Junes. “I’m going to check on Nanako.”

In the arcade, Nanako sits in a large blue chair. She twists a steering wheel every which-way as she plays some kind of police-chase racing game. Within the grainy image of the screen, torrential rain pelts the streets; the screech of tires skidding out of control on drenched roads is nearly deafening. Out of all the games she could have picked… why’d she have to choose one that so closely resembles one of the most traumatic nights of his life? Souji stands behind the machine and waits until the round is over. He doesn’t look at the screen again.

Nanako finally notices him. “Oh, is it time to go already?”

“Not yet. Do you want to shop with me?” Souji hands some change over. “Or you can play some more.”

Nanako takes his free hand with a grin. “I wanna go with you!”

And so they walk the aisles together, picking out various items for this week’s meals. Souji thinks of Kanji the entire time — wonders if there’s any way to talk with him before the inevitable kidnapping. For his own peace of mind, he’d like to. But there remains the million dollar question: how can it come off as natural?

“Ooh, look at these blankets! They’re so soft!” Nanako says, stroking a cozy-looking green blanket. “The sign says it was made at Tatsumi Textiles. Hey, I know that place! I walk by there everyday on my way home from school!” 

And all of a sudden, the gears turn in Souji’s mind. He wraps the blanket snug around Nanako’s shoulders and says, “How about I take you to meet the owner?”

May 16, 2011

“Nanako-chan — what a lovely name!” Kanji’s mother coos that afternoon at Tatsumi Textiles. “Ah, and that blanket! Do you like it, dear? My son and I have good memories making that specific piece.”

Souji, Nanako, and the rest of them take their seats on the tatami mat. The scarf sold to Ms. Yamano is still on display, and on the other side of the room, a poster of Misuzu Hiiragi hangs innocently on the wall. Somehow, it’s a lot easier to remember that poster when it’s shredded, faceless, and dripping in blood.

Nanako nods, holding tightly to Souji’s arm. “I-I love it.”

“You and Kanji-kun are so talented!” Saki says to his mother. “I love seeing his work in Home Ec.”

“Huh?” a voice says near the front of the house. “Who the hell’s talkin’ about me?”

“Welcome home, Kanji!” Tatsumi greets. She pats the spot next to him as he walks in the room. “Come sit! Your friends are here.”

Kanji scowls and throws his school bag to the floor. “These ain’t my goddamn friends, Ma…” His fists’ clench as his eyes land on Yosuke. “‘Specially not this bonehead.”

“That’s a new one…” Yosuke mutters through an eye roll.

Nanako gasps and pulls on Souji’s arm until she can whisper in his ear. “Kanji-san has Loveline pins on his bag!”

“Yeah?” Souji says. He turns to Kanji. “Do you like Detective Loveline?”

“Yeah! So?! Got somethin’ to say about it, bonehead number two?!”

“N-No…” Souji chokes out, torn between laughing and crying. He pats Nanako on the head. “But my si-“ He pauses. Too early. “My cousin loves it.”

Kanji deflates. “O-Oh…” He eyes Nanako warily. “You seen the episode where Loveline meets Platinum Free, kid?”

Nanako’s eyes light up. “That’s the best one!”

“Nah, you’re wrong. Best one’s where Loveline and Jonathan team up to investigate that vampire.”

“But Jonathan was so boring!”

“The hell?! Jonathan’s special! He’s precious!”

Souji watches Kanji as he talks back and forth with Nanako. The tension eases out of him with every word, and he even starts to smile a little. Souji thinks of the bathhouse—of rose petals and chiseled men—and how much more highly Kanji held himself after facing his Shadow. He hopes the same will be true this time.

“Kanji-kun,” Saki says after a while, the conversation shifting to Home Ec. “Do you remember the other day when Mrs. Higashikata showed us a technique for the Continental style?”

“Yeah!” Kanji says. “It’s pretty helpful. And there’s a way to do it faster, ya know. I can show you tomorrow.”

“Do you mind if I join tomorrow?” Souji asks. 

Saki nods. “Sure thing! Do you know how to knit, too?” 

“Yes, but I’m better at crocheting.”

Yosuke nudges him. “Y-You know how to do that stuff, partner…?” 

“Do what?” Souji asks, well aware of what he’s referring to. He feels a little bad playing the socially-dense card, but he’s not going to give Yosuke the satisfaction of thinking he shares his opinion of what men can and can’t do. 

“Come on, like… knit and stuff!”

“You know, you should join us tomorrow. I can teach you a few things,” Souji suggests. Yosuke just stares at him. He doesn’t have anything to say for the first time in his life, it seems like. “Anyway, we should get going now. It was so nice to meet you and your son, Tatsumi-san.” He looks to Kanji. “We’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Hell yeah, man!” Kanji yells. He slams a fist onto the mat a little too enthusiastically, to which his mother places a gentle hand over his. “Sorry, Ma…” 

May 17, 2011

For what it’s worth, Saki and Kanji seem to get along pretty well. At the table in front of Souji and Yosuke, they knit, crotchet, and sew with precision that would rival that of the old folks Souji used to talk with in craft shops scattered throughout Setagaya’s backstreets. But with a new friend always comes new discoveries about their behavior. For example, Saki Konishi is surprisingly bossy. 

“No, no, no. You’re doing it all wrong.” Saki fidgets with the needle Kanji holds in his hand. “It’s under first, then over.”

“That does make more sense…” Kanji mutters, eagerly following the pattern Saki laid out for him. “Show me one more time, yeah?”

Meanwhile, Yosuke is not having a great time. He sighs and puts his head down on the table in defeat. “I can’t do this!”

“Yosuke, you’re not even trying. Watch.” Souji guides and Yosuke listens, lifting his head back up. “Take this end and line it up with the needle, but watch your fingers.” He places a hand on Yosuke’s wrist as he corrects his position. “Now just push your foot down on the button. Look, you’re doing it!”

Sure enough, the sewing machine whirs to life. The thread unwinds and weaves into the fabric beneath Yosuke’s hand; he can’t hide a proud smile, no matter how much he probably wants to. 

“Man, you guys are doin’ pretty good,” Kanji compliments. He holds up a knitted piece of pink fabric. “I’m almost done myself.”

“What are you making?” Souji asks. 

“A scarf… for Nanako-chan.”

Souji’s heart warms. This is going better than he imagined it would. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

Kanji pinches one of his ear piercings. “You think?”

After the club ends, Souji walks Kanji home, carrying the scarf for Nanako over his arm the whole way. The road of the shopping district seems to wind forever under the early summer evening. It’s warm already, but a kind of warmth that’s more comforting than dizzying. 

“So, uh… you’re a pretty cool guy, Souji-senpai,” Kanji says as they come to a stop in front of his house. “I know I said some nasty stuff to you before we properly met, and I’m sorry ‘bout that. I’m, uhh… not good with my… emotions…” He rubs the back of his neck. “And just for the record, you ain’t really a bonehead.”

Souji laughs. “Just for the record, I forgive you.”

Kanji smiles. “Well, guess it’s that time…” He yawns and stretches his arms. “Wanted to ask somethin’ though.”

“Go ahead.”

“You and that Yosuke dude… um, how do I put this? Are you guys, like… dating?”

The question knocks the air clean out of Souji’s lungs. That was completely unexpected. He doesn’t even know what to say — he just sort of gapes at Kanji. 

“Whoa, hey. My bad,” Kanji backtracks. “You guys just seemed pretty close, and you were callin’ each other partner and all, so…” He swallows and averts his eyes. “I mean, ‘s totally cool if you are!”

“We’re not,” Souji finally says, fighting to keep his breathing steady. “I-It’s… just a nickname. I’m not… I’ve never been…” Liar, liar, liar! “I’m not gay.”

“Dude, it’s like… seriously alright,” Kanji says slowly. He slides the front door open. “I’m, uh… I’m gonna take off now. Lemme know what Nanako-chan thinks of the scarf, yeah?”

“Right, sure,” Souji says, hands trembling. He waves to hide it. “Goodnight, Kanji.”

In the wake of their conversation, Souji stares at the door for what seems like ages. To think, this chance given to him centered entirely around the pursuit of truth, and here he is running away. Far, far away. He knows he should stop — he’s not going to find anything at the end of this path other than the same black cavity of self-loathing he’s pulled himself out of ten, twenty, two million times. But he can’t. Not this part of himself; never, never this part. 

“Souji?” a voice breaks him from his thoughts. Souji jumps. “Oops, didn’t mean to scare you. You just looked a little lost. You do know how to get back to Dojima-san’s place, right?”

There—right smack in the middle of the street—is Tohru Adachi. Brow furrowed, tie crooked, orange soda stain on his white dress shirt. 

“Hi, Adachi-san,” Souji says. After lying through his teeth that he’s straight as an arrow, the crooked tie irks him in this particular moment. Really irks him. “I’m fine. I was just walking a friend home.”

Adachi nods. “Just checking. What with Yamano’s murder and Amagi’s disappearance, we’re a little on edge about kids wandering around at night.” 

Souji hums, the conversation coming to an awkward lull. He doesn’t really know Adachi too well. Even in the previous timeline, he had only talked to him a handful of times at the house, or on the rare occasion staring out a window at Junes. Just what the hell do you talk to your uncle’s coworker about?

“Um, so what are you doing out, Adachi-san?” Souji asks. An interrogation for an interrogation, he supposes. “Patrol?”

“Me? No, nothing like that. I just get restless sometimes. Heh, I do remember my patrol days though.”

Souji gestures to the can of orange soda. “The caffeine won’t help with that.”

“Yeah, guilty pleasures.” Adachi laughs. “Gotta love ‘em.”

“We have some non-caffeinated tea at the house with chamomile in it. Shiroku-san’s stuff — very good. It’s supposed to help with sleep. You’re welcome to try it out next time you’re over.”

“You drink it?”

Souji nods. “Every night. I, um…” He absentmindedly rubs his eye. “I get nightmares a lot.”

“Nightmares? What could a kid like you be having nightmares about?”

“School.” Hospitals. “Girls.” Mother. “Friends.” Murder.

“Oh man, I never grew out of the school ones,” Adachi says with an amused shake of the head. “But girls? What, are they beating you senseless?”

Souji smiles wryly. “Yes.”

Adachi laughs again. “Shit, you’re pretty funny! But I guess that’s to be expected of someone related to Dojima-san.” He checks his watch. “Alright, I gotta get going, but I’ll try that tea out sometime. So long, kid.”

Souji watches until Adachi turns the corner near the liquor store. And then, a familiar warmth spreads across his heart. A social link? But he doesn’t have one of those with Adachi; he never has. Even so, the image of The Jester arcana floods his mind, settling in right next to Saki’s card. Of all people, he never expected to form a social link with Adachi. 

As Souji slips his shoes off at the doorway later, his phone buzzes in his pocket. A message from Yosuke to him, Saki, Chie, and Yukiko. 

Partner :D - 20:18
> midnite chnnl evry1. dont forget

Except he had forgotten — too caught up in telling lies, too caught up in goofing off with goddamn Tohru Adachi. It had been the whole point of making friends with Kanji before the kidnapping, and he had forgotten!

Kanji’s Shadow crosses the Midnight Channel right on time. Souji falls asleep after, and he doesn’t dream of hospitals, or his mother, or murder. He dreams only of golden eyes and lying tongues. 

May 19, 2011

“Souji Seta? I am detective Naoto Shirogane. I would like to ask you some questions regarding the disappearance of Kanji Tatsumi. If you would follow me, please.”

The force with which Naoto thrusts her police badge under Souji’s nose almost has him seeing the gates of Heaven a little too early. NAOTO SHIROGANE is ingrained within the metal, and behind it, there Naoto herself stands — hand on hip and cap low over her eyes.

“Uh, what’s happening?” Yosuke asks. “We’re a little busy.”

“This does not concern you,” Naoto says. “However, it will only take a minute.”

Souji sighs and turns to his friends. “I’ll be back, okay?” 

Naoto leads him to a bench down the road from Yasogami, a good distance away from his friends and any other prying eyes. They had planned on heading straight to the TV world and starting Kanji’s dungeon, but Naoto intercepted them right as the school gates opened at the end of the day. Of course, he already knows what this is about. He was likely the last person seen with Kanji the night of his kidnapping.

“As I previously stated,” Naoto begins, hands folded atop the bench, “I have been tasked with gathering information regarding the disappearance of your classmate. We have reason to believe you are acquainted with Tatsumi, as an anonymous witness has stated they saw you with him near his house one hour before his disappearance. Now, Seta-san, please give a brief recount of your version of that night.”

Souji thinks back to the previous timeline — one where he had sat with Naoto at a similar bench, sharing stories of secret bases and tracking down mysterious phantom thieves. She pulls her cap down further as she finishes speaking, seemingly drawing in on herself. With an ache in his heart, Souji wonders how lonely she is right now. 

“I was just walking him home,” Souji says, choosing his words carefully. “We had stayed late at school participating in a club.”

“So you became acquainted through this club?”

“In a way.”

Naoto nods. “Was there a reason why you walked him home?”

“Because of what happened to Mayumi Yamano, Sa-“ Souji stops abruptly. No, that's right. Saki wasn't reported as missing because they rescued her so early. “To Mayumi Yamano and Yukiko Amagi.”

“Did you fear something similar would happen to Tatsumi?”

“Maybe. I do the same with all of my friends. I don’t let them go home alone when it’s late.”

Naoto leans forward, all steely eyes and furrowed brows. “I’ve learned you only transferred here in April. Tell me, how have you become so close with your classmates despite only knowing them for a little over a month?”

Souji swallows through the growing lump in his throat. Somehow, this is ten times worse than a nightmare — holding a truth so heavy on his tongue with no way to relieve the weight. Everyone in arms reach, but no one to confess to; no one to hold him like a little kid and tell him they forgive him. Alone.

“I just… care about them. It’s like I knew them before we even met.”

Naoto tilts her head. She looks him up and down for a long while. “I know the feeling…” Then, she stands abruptly. “I believe I have gathered enough information from you.”

“Shirogane-san,” Souji interrupts before she can high-tail it out of here. When she taps a finger to her arm in annoyance—still the same, still loathing any unnecessary or idle talk—he smiles and says, “Be safe.”

**

The thought doesn’t occur to Souji until much later that night. He’s just put his phone on the charger and thrown himself to the futon when it hits him: Adachi had seen him that night. Adachi had talked to him that night. Adachi, in all his goofiness… could he really be the anonymous witness Naoto talked of? 

He dismisses the thought immediately. It seems more likely that Adachi would clear his name of any suspicion, rather than arouse any. 

May 20, 2011

Kanji’s dungeon is exactly the same as last time.

Its corridors wind forever, and ever, and ever. Fog creeps under the bathhouse doors and coils in the teams’ lungs like a snake, and the scent of the rose petals that line the baths is potent enough to be nauseating. It’s hard to make sense of anything in the face of all this stimulation. Souji fights basalts and dice until they blur into the same enemy, coughs up fog until his chest burns, sweats through his clothes enough to fill an entire six-foot pool. With time and practice, he’d built up a sort of resistance to the dungeons, to the point where he could spend hours in one and come out completely unphased. Not in this timeline, though. A year’s worth of resilience — undone by a single train ride. 

“That elusive thing I truly yearn for, will I finally find it here?” Kanji’s voice echoes throughout the bathhouse. “A man’s… a man’s got this thing called pride…”

Yosuke nudges him. “Weird, right?”

Souji acts like he doesn’t hear. He wonders if Yosuke would think the same of him.

**

“But you’re a guy,” Shadow Kanji sneers at his counterpart, repeating the vicious questions asked of him by the girls in his year. “You don’t act like a guy. Why aren’t you manly? Such bullshit! Just what does it mean to be a guy? What does it mean to be manly?” It points at Yosuke. “You! What do you think?”

Yosuke swallows and grips his kunai tighter. “I-I guess… standing tall even when you don’t want to. No complaining, no crying about it. It’s your job to be strong.”

“So… what? If you get a little snot-nosed when your old man kicks the bucket, you fail? They erase the arrow off your birth certificate and all that shit?”

“Huh?” Yosuke scratches the side of his head. “W-Well… I don’t know…”

Shadow Kanji scoffs. “You.” He points to Souji next. “What does it mean to be a man?”

An image immediately comes to mind — one clothed in the dizzying neon lights of a Shibuya alleyway, staccato green and blue hiragana reflecting in dirty puddles.

It’s late — 19:27, Souji’s watch tells him. Silent, save for the sound of his shoes hitting the pavement and the fabric of his middle school uniform jacket brushing against his shirt. Today was busy: three tests, cleanup duty after school, and tutoring well into the evening. And yet… none of that bothers him. No, what’s bothering him is that word — that word Michiaki taught him about a few years ago. Gay. 

Someone had said it to him when he was cleaning the classroom with that sorry excuse of a mop. The wooden handle has several half-moon pieces carved out of it, while the mop itself hangs on by literal threads. Kazuya—who sits several rows ahead of him—had taken one look at it when Souji pulled it out of the supply closet and said:

“That mop’s pretty gay, huh, Seta-kun?”

And Souji just stood there for a moment, because he hadn’t understood what Kazuya meant.

“It… it can’t like boys,” Souji said. “It’s just a mop.”

Kazuya laughed, loud and obnoxious. “That’s uh, not what I meant. Never mind.”

“He meant it was broken…” Souji tells a puddle hidden in the alleyway. His reflection stares back at him with a scowl, so he kicks at the water until it distorts — until it splashes back at him and stains his uniform. Until all that’s left is a million fragmented pieces of Souji Seta. Until he’s as broken as the sorry mop hanging in the supply closet. 

“Well now…” a deep voice says from behind him, and before he can even turn around, someone pins him to the wall. “Why all the ruckus in my alleyway, pest?”

Souji looks up at his assailant — a shirtless man with golden eyes and long, pale hair. Two sleeves of tattoos cover his arms, and a gun rests in the waistband of his pants.

To the left of the man, a little further away, a man in a green jacket, a woman in a white dress, and a few others stand circled together as they watch this all unfold. One boy—who seems younger than everyone else—pointedly faces away. It doesn’t seem like he’s even noticed Souji yet. 

“Them?” the man asks, glancing at the group. “Those are my accomplices. You see…” He takes a deep breath. “We tend to get rid of those who waltz their way into our territory.”

“You don’t scare me,” Souji says, bored and monotone. It’s the truth. Nothing about this man scares him — not the eyes, not the wicked smile, and not even the gun.

The man smirks. He takes the gun out of his waistband and holds it out. “Jin, take this weapon from me. I have no need for it.”

The man in the green jacket walks over. He fixes Souji with a cold stare as he takes the gun. 

“A kid…?” Jin asks, and in the corner of Souji’s eye, the young-looking boy stiffens. “So what are you gonna do with him?” 

The man brings his hands close to Souji’s face. “You’ll soon see.”

“Takaya!” another voice yells, deep and gruff. The younger boy who was leaning against the wall pushes Jin out of the way as he barrels through. He wears a red trench coat with hands shoved into the pockets, and long brown hair hides underneath a beanie. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? He’s a kid!”

“And?” Takaya asks, lowering his hands. “Now you suddenly have an issue, Shinjiro?”

“It’s okay,” Souji speaks up. “You can kill me.”

Jin’s mouth drops open. Takaya laughs like Souji’s just told the greatest joke of the century. 

“Tch. Stop tryin’ to act all tough, kid,” Shinjiro says. He puts a hand on Takaya’s shoulder. “Leave him be. You’re… better than this.” 

“Since when did I start taking orders from you? Remove your filthy hands!”

“As much as I hate to say it…” Jin says hesitantly. “I think Shinjiro’s right on this one.”

For a while, Takaya looks back and forth between Jin and Shinjiro, glaring at them like they both just crawled out of a sewer and tried to hug him. Then, he turns back to Souji and makes languid movements with his throat. He opens his mouth. Spit lands in Souji’s eyes. 

“Worthless child,” Takaya hisses, tugging Jin along as he walks away. 

Shinjiro takes a hand out of his pocket and tosses a handkerchief to Souji. He leans down and stares directly into Souji’s eyes — no malice, just urgency. 

“Get out of here, kid…” he whispers, and something about the crack in his voice sounds incredibly pained. “And don’t you ever come back.” 

“There’s no such thing as being a man,” Souji eventually answers. “You’re just you.”

“Alright, then what does it mean to be strong?” Shadow Kanji asks. “Good, capable? Who is that to you?”

“Someone who swears their life by unconditionals, who looks every painful truth in the eyes, and…” Souji thinks of long hair, trench coats, and handkerchiefs. “Who stands up for what’s right even if they’re standing alone.”

The Shadow smirks. “Yeah?” A familiar blue light swallows it whole, and soon enough it’s split into three different entities. “Then let’s see if you live up to those standards.”

**

“What a fucking fight, man…” Yosuke groans later on that evening, downing an entire glass of water in five seconds flat. He fills up another at his kitchen sink. “I thought we were goners.”

Souji sighs and refrains from pouring his own glass right over his head. “I did too.”

And that isn’t a lie. Shadow Kanji itself wasn’t so bad; the problem was its henchmen. Not only were they a good deal stronger than the team, but their weak points were completely different from last time. It took a lot of trial-and-error and cycling through Personas on Souji’s end to finally figure it out, and by that time he was on his knees heaving out what felt like final breaths from all the poison. Even further, Chie and Yukiko were inflicted with rage for the majority of the fight, which left Yosuke to pick up the pieces and make sure everyone was healed. 

“Sorry I wasn’t able to cure the nausea, though,” Yosuke says with a frown.

“Yeah, well…” Souji leans his head against the cold counter and wills the awful churning in his gut away. “There’s only so much you can do about poison. Don’t worry.”

Souji feels Yosuke put his hand on his back and rub in slow circles, and… oh. That feels really nice. Thank God for the protection of the counter, or else Yosuke would’ve surely been able to see the red high on his cheeks and the goofy smile hanging off his lips.

“Hey…” he hears Yosuke say after a while. “Back there, did you really mean it? About how there’s no such thing as being a man?”

“I did,” Souji says. “Why?”

“I-I don’t know… Just got me thinking about stuff…”

“Like what?”

Yosuke sighs. His hand stills. “Like… I remember-“ He stops. “Never mind. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.” Despite the rush of dizziness to the head, Souji stands and looks him in the eyes. “I’ll listen to you.”

“Well…” Yosuke crosses his arms. “When you were a kid, did your folks ever tell you that boys don’t cry?”

“Is it white yet?” Reiji Seta asks, gesturing to the washing machine.

Souji watches the rag spin around for a long while — watches it beat against the window like it’s desperately trying to get out, smearing blood across the glass in the process. Somehow, the sight is reminiscent of himself.

“It’s still red,” he says, wiping his nose. The same color stains his arm. “Papa… my nose really hurts.”

“Then go take some Tylenol.”

“Something like that,” Souji says, absentmindedly rubbing his nose.

“Alright well, don’t laugh, but when I was in first grade I was on the baseball team at school,” Yosuke says. “And they had these two bats. One was black and covered in flames and the other was pink with flowers. You get it, right? The boys were supposed to use the first one and the girls the second. Anyways, my folks came to watch me play a game once, and…” He shrugs, smiling just a bit. “I really liked the pink bat, so I used it. And dude, when I tell you my old man got so mad!”

“He did?”

“Uh-huh. He was all, ‘Yosuke Hanamura, why the hell did you use that girly-ass bat?! You looked like a queer’!”

Souji frowns. “That’s so mean…”

“I guess so. It’s not like I knew what that word meant. But yeah, then during my next game, he literally walked onto the field when it was my turn to bat and handed me the bat with flames on it. And t-then…” Yosuke laughs behind his hand. “I started crying. A lot. And I didn’t stop until he gave me the pink bat again. And then of course I got the whole ‘Boys don’t cry. Boys don’t like pink. Boys don’t do this and this and this’ lecture during the car ride home.”

“Did you ever use the pink bat again?”

“No…” Yosuke says, laughter ceasing at once. “Wanted to, though. He’s definitely calmed down about it over the years, but there were a lot of ‘girly’ things I wanted to do back then. I was just too scared of disappointing him.”

“You know it’s fine to do them, right? Things don’t have a gender. They’re just… things.”

“Been thinking about that ever since you taught me how to sew. I don’t know, honestly. It’s hard to re-learn what you’ve been taught.” Yosuke shrugs again. He takes a sip of water, and when the glass comes back down, there’s a grin on his face once more. “Hey, what you described earlier… you’re a lot like that.”

Souji rubs his neck. “Y-You think?”

“Yeah. You’re… good.” Yosuke ruffles Souji’s hair and pulls him close to his side. “I think a lot more people could live like you, partner.”

May 24, 2011

“You’ve got yourself a fan,” Souji tells him a few days later, turned around at his desk to face Yosuke’s during lunch break. “Ever since I told Nanako you and Senpai work at Junes, she’s been begging me to bring you both home. She brought your name up at least ten times last night.”

“Man…” Yosuke laughs and takes a bite of the dorayaki he’d brought. “It’s really gonna suck when she gets older and realizes how screwed up corporate life is behind all the cheery commercials.”

“I know. Let’s keep that innocence alive for as long as possible.” Souji fiddles with a pencil on Yosuke’s desk. “So, I was wondering… would you want to come with us to the Samegawa today? I’ll make us something to eat and we can take it there. Plus, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Someone at the Samegawa? Who?”

“You’ll see.”

Yosuke takes another bite, talking with his mouth full. “Alright, sure. Mm, speakin’ of food…” He swallows, then holds a half-eaten dorayaki up to Souji’s lips. “Try this. Mom’s been perfecting her recipe.”

Souji freezes. It’d be one thing to just share food, but feeding him? With the eyes of their entire class around them? He’d like to think Yosuke’s just joking, but the seconds are ticking by, and he’s not moving his hand. In fact, he’s pushing it closer. 

Very hesitantly, Souji opens his mouth and takes a bite. Yosuke watches him like a hawk the entire time.

“Good?” he asks.

“Mhm…” Souji chews and swallows, throat suddenly ten times too dry. He wipes at his mouth. “Very.”

With a wink, Yosuke thumbs just near the corner of Souji’s lips. “Missed a spot.”

**

Something about the Samegawa always calms him.

He can’t put his finger on what exactly, but it’s a lot more than just the slow trickle of water as the current dances downstream, and it’s more than the grass and dirt and daisies coming alive beneath his fingertips, and it’s even more than Yosuke’s and Nanako’s airy laughter rising and falling like his favorite song on either side of him. It’s a lot more… and when he closes his eyes and thinks of the first time he ever saw this beautiful river—one of his first memories, tiny feet skimming the minnows and rocks in the water while his mother’s and Aunt Chisato’s hands held onto his—the peaceful stir in his heart grows to a crescendo.

“He’s totally checked out…” Yosuke mutters.

There’s a sharp cracking sound, and Souji opens his eyes to find Nanako’s fingers snapping away before him. 

“Wake up!” she yells. “You need to find our special guest!”

“Right. I almost forgot.” Souji stands and makes his way to a bush near the stairs. He shakes a bag of food around for a while, and once their special guest finally makes his appearance, he picks him up and promptly dumps him in Yosuke’s lap. “This is Oscar.”

“Uh…” Yosuke stares dumbfoundedly at the huge black cat in his lap. “Dude, this? This is a freakin’ leopard.”

And he’s not exaggerating. Oscar has always been a big cat — even when Souji first met him in April. He’d come to the riverbed that day in hopes of feeding the same cats from the year before, but Oscar was the only one there, and was one he had never met. Even so, the cat warmed up to him in a heartbeat. 

Nanako feeds Oscar a piece of the tonkatsu she and Souji made together. “He’s a king!”

“He is,” Souji says, petting behind his ears. 

“But hey, Souji…” Yosuke says. “Aren’t you kinda allergic to cats?”

“Some things are worth the sacrifice.”

Oscar meows as if in agreement. And when Nanako keels over laughing and Yosuke follows right after her, the crescendo flares in Souji’s heart once more. 

**

Later on that evening, he and Yosuke sit before the small TV in Souji’s room and play Halo 3. Shooters have never been his strong suit though, so when he inevitably loses for a third time that night and watches Yosuke’s character t-bag his dead body, he frowns and says:

“This game is rigged.”

“It is not,” Yosuke says matter-of-factly. He continues to defile Souji’s character. “You’re just not good at video games.”

Souji gently shoves him. “Screw you. We just never play a game that I like.”

“Oh yeah? What do you wanna play?”

“…Spyro.”

“What? Come on, Spyro’s not even multiplayer. And it’s so old!”

“It’s not that old.”

“Yeah, it kinda is.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

Souji’s eyes widen. “You’ve been looking at my screen this whole time, haven’t you?” He reaches over for his controller. “That’s why I’m not winning!”

“No!” Yosuke laughs and holds the controller over his head. “Even if I was, what the hell’s taking my controller gonna do?”

“You don’t want me to take it,” Souji points out, lifting himself up a bit to grab it. “That means you’re doing something!”

“What sorta logic is that? Hey, w-wait-“

Their playful argument is cut short as Souji loses his balance and falls directly on top of him. The controller lands against Yosuke’s forehead with a sharp smack. For several heart-stopping seconds—with legs and hands tangled together, noses practically touching—they do nothing but stare at each other in shock. Then, Souji comes back to his senses.

“S-Sorry!” he says, jumping to his feet so quick that he goes lightheaded. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“You’re fine.” Yosuke laughs nervously and sits up. He rubs at his forehead. “Um, it’s getting kinda late.”

“Yeah… I’ll walk you home.”

And oh God, what an awkward walk it is. Stiff, stilted. Nothing is said — not even a bless you when Souji sneezes just as they’re crossing the Samegawa. In fact, the first time Yosuke talks or even just looks in his direction is when Souji trips over a loose spot in the sidewalk near the entrance to Yosuke’s house. 

“Careful.” Yosuke gently grabs him around the waist. “You’re not usually this clumsy. Are you getting sick?”

“I guess you could say that…” Souji says, the word lovesick turning endless revolutions in his mind.

“Could be the poison from the other day. You want me to make you some tea before you go home?”

“No thanks. I’ll probably end up spilling it on you or something.”

Yosuke laughs. “You’re so hard on yourself.” He rubs his nose and looks off to the side. “It was kind of funny what happened back there. You’re always so straight-faced, you know that? It’s nice to see Mr. Perfect come undone sometimes.”

“I’m far from perfect, Yosuke…” Souji mumbles. 

“Not far from stubborn though, huh? But yeah, I… I like it when that composure slips…”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… when you smile…” Yosuke gestures noncommittally to his lips. “You’ve got a nice smile, partner.” His eyes widen as soon as he says the last word, as if he can’t believe it just came out of his mouth. He abruptly turns on his heel. “Uh, g-goodnight.”

“What—hey, wait a minute!” Souji says, grabbing Yosuke by the arm. His entire face is flushed red — all the way down his neck and pooling at the junction of his collarbones. “You… you have a nice smile too. You know, a pretty…” His breath catches as he rushes to correct himself. “A-A pretty nice one.” 

And after flashing him that pretty nice—albeit twitching and a hundred times keyed-up—smile, Yosuke really does book it inside this time. As the sound of the door slamming shut rings through his ears, Souji turns toward home. His own smile follows, only smothered by the lull of a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

May 27, 2011

It comes a little later than last time. 

Souji’s staring at Mr. Hosoi’s hand puppet, yet has his mind anywhere except the lecture. He’s thinking about Kanji, about Rise, about Naoto, Nanako, Teddie, Yukiko, Chie…

“Yosuke!” Mr. Hosoi, or rather, the puppet says. “Let’s see if you can answer this.”

Souji straightens up as he always does when Yosuke is called upon. If the other would just apply himself to school, there would be no need for Souji to help him out each time; Yosuke is smart. But even so, Souji likes being relied on by him.

And why wouldn’t I?

“Do you know how Soseki Natsume translated the English phrase ‘I love you’ into Japanese?”

Souji’s face heats. Ah, that. He always thought about this phrase in the last run, as cliche as it was. He hadn’t loved Yosuke the first time Mr. Hosoi had asked this question, but he had certainly liked him, and it’s a very sweet declaration to keep in mind anyway. And well… when had he realized he loved Yosuke? He hadn’t really thought about it too much; it just sort of… happened. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

But it’s not normal, and I’m not normal, and if anyone else knew, they’d think the same thing. 

“Partner, a little help?” Yosuke whispers behind him, breath hot on his neck. 

Souji turns his head slightly, just enough to see the rise and fall of the part in Yosuke’s hair, to see his fist come to a rest against his cheek, to see his lips trail upward as a sliver of sun hits him from the window. 

“The moon is beautiful…” Souji answers to the sunlight in a mutter. 

Admits, he knows he hears his Shadow say. 

“The moon is beautiful,” Yosuke repeats to the classroom, winking at Souji in gratitude. 

And this time, his Shadow shouts. 

**

“Your parents called,” Dojima says that night as he pours two mugs of coffee. He sets one in front of Souji at the table, giving him a frown as he no doubt notices his nephew’s slight change in demeanor. It isn’t much, but he is a detective, after all. Souji understands that body language is second nature to him. 

Souji crosses his arms. “And?”

Dojima takes a long sip, grimaces at the taste, then adds a pack of sugar. “Wanted to know about school.”

Souji doesn’t say anything. 

“Look, kid,” Dojima gruffs. “I know you probably don’t always see eye-to-eye with them, but they’re your parents… and they called about you.”

Would you say the same to Nanako? 

“They called about school,” Souji says. That’s the truth through and through. They called about school. No “How is our son?”; no “We miss you so much, Souji”. Shit, not even a mere “Hello, Souji”. 

“I know my sister,” Dojima says, looking into his mug as if someone would spring forth from it and give him all the answers he needs. “I know when she’s worried.”

“You don’t need to sugarcoat anything, Uncle.”

Dojima sighs and puts out the cigarette resting between his fingers. Souji watches the flame extinguish darkly, feels a burn on his wrist and the familiar constriction of his throat. 

“Are you two fighting again?” Nanako asks, suddenly appearing at Souji’s side. She presents a united front with her older cousin. 

Look at us, Uncle. I’m sure we have the same expression on our faces right now. 

“We’re not figh-“ Dojima is cut off by his cell phone ringing. “Yeah? Adachi? I’m hanging up.” 

Souji can hear Adachi’s "waitwaitwait, Dojima-san!" even through the phone. Dojima—reluctantly listening to Adachi’s rambling—slings his jacket over his shoulder and walks out the front door. 

Nanako tugs on Souji’s sleeve. “Are… are you okay… Big Bro?”

That had come later, too, Souji notes. His brain lights up at the nickname, though. “I am. Come on, let’s go check on the plants.”

The plants… well, the plants are okay, save for the only one Dojima had planted, which is wilting toward the ground. Souji frowns at it. 

“There’s been a lot of rain recently…” Nanako mutters. “I think it just needs some sunlight.”

It’s the simplest thing. There is a severe lack of it. For everyone. 

May 31, 2011

Souji does a lot of thinking the next few days. He tries not to talk to many, just the Investigation Team and the Dojimas, and still that proves few and far between. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to them—quite the opposite really—it’s just that there’s something bothering him. Many things. 

He works quietly on building a model robot given to him by the fox at the shrine, tries not to focus on the fulfilled wish part of it and instead just distracts himself with the building process. He’d already built it once, sure, but it’s fairly complex. As he does so, Namatame’s voice echoes through his mind. It’s become a frequent occurrence as of late — something he can’t shake in the daytime, and that presents itself even more severely during the night. “I wanted to save them!”. But what did that mean? Killing and saving people — how do the two equate? Namatame’s words… were they just deranged pleas, or were they the truth? There’s something obviously wrong; the evidence doesn’t add up. Is there something else at play? There must be, and maybe he has the answers. But even so… Nanako and the others… Did Namatame want to kill them, or was it something else?

Souji stares into the darkness of his TV as he ponders this. He feels like something is glaring at him dead on. He huffs, grinds his teeth together, and screws a small gear into the forearm of the robot. Mechanical forearm, whatever. 

What am I missing?

He even thinks of the paparazzi that had stalked Rise before she was thrown in, but there’s no way it was anything more than that. There’s no way that guy is the culprit. He laughs to himself as he recalls Adachi’s clumsy hands handcuffing the guy. Souji won't let his team think he's the killer this time.

I mean, what if I came clean about the time-travel thing and how there is most likely another culprit involved? But that would make me look suspicious, wouldn’t it? Yosuke and Chie didn’t even believe me when I told them about Izanagi. God, what a stupid idea. Obviously I’d be seen as a threat if I started listing everyone who would be taken next. That confession alone would undo the trust of the entire team. Why do I bother coming back to this thought when I know how irrational it is?

He twists another gear.

What is Namatame doing right now? What would happen if I encountered him? What would I do? 

Souji thinks of his hands fisted in Namatame’s shirt collar, forcing his head into the TV. Rise and Yosuke are on either side of his ears, angel and devil respectively. 

“Senpai, please stop!”

“Come on, partner! Throw him in!”

Namatame mumbles something, but since his mouth is partially inside the TV, nobody can understand it. If Namatame wasn’t gripping his wrists with all the strength of a vise, Souji’s sure his hands would be trembling violently enough to have already cut the man in them loose. His vision tunnels and falls into a saturation of deep red in a matter of seconds.

I’m going to kill you. To kill, to kill, to kill-

A particularly flimsy piece of material breaks in between Souji’s fingers as he tries to attach it to another piece. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. How did he let that happen? How could he consider, even for a second, throwing Namatame inside the TV? Killing someone. Killing someone. Nausea washes over him at the grounding realization that, deep down, there are some kind of wild, animalistic inhibitions within him — things that would make him no better than the culprit they are all seeking.

“Pursue the truth until the very end,” that strange voice had said in his dreams. But what if he can’t find this “truth”? What if Inaba gets swallowed by the fog once again?

He pushes the model aside, opting to lay his aching head on the table and rest it on his arms. The attempt to save Kanji was more or less to simply feel useful, but there’s no point in trying to stop the inevitable. Rise will be kidnapped next, and Souji has to let it happen. Even for Mitsuo and Naoto. But not Nanako. Never, never Nanako.

Souji closes his eyes and thinks about the first time he had arrived in Inaba, how he had gathered his friends and how they had grown dependent on him so quickly. They don’t know it, but he’s sure he depends on them even more.

Chie had said something to him in the beginning — the day after the fight with her Shadow. “Maybe that’s what draws people to you.” She had said that to him just a few days after he had come to this town, just a few days after he had transferred from a school and a city where nobody paid any attention to him. She had just said it like he’d always been like that.

Souji doesn’t doubt the love he holds for his friends, not one bit. But what about them? As much as he wants to believe they love him just as dearly, there’s a part of him—the deepest, most insecure part—that stubbornly refuses to believe so. Even when he leans on the more hopeful part, there still remains a lingering insecurity: maybe they care about each other now, but what would become of the group after—if—the mystery of the TV world is solved? And the care they hold right now… is it just superficial? And even people like Kou, Daisuke, Ai, Hisano, et cetera… why do they care about him? They aren’t part of the murder case—fighting Shadows in the TV at his side—so why do they want to spend time with him? 

You solve their problems. You listen. To them, you’re just a means to an end. Souji holds his head in his hands. His sprawl across the table gradually becomes more of a hunch. Then why did Kou and Daisuke see me off at the station last time and bring me gifts? Would you do all that for someone you didn’t genuinely care about?

Fighting with himself like this is only making his headache worse. He abandons the robot completely in favor of crawling into bed and covering himself head-to-toe with the comforter. 

“This town I hated so much? Now, I love it. There’s still nothing here, but I have family and friends… and you,” Yosuke had said to him with a soft smile that day, the two overlooking Inaba on the hill. It seems like forever ago. The sky had been clear, the air was clean and fresh, and Yosuke’s freckles were visible under the sunlight. Any prospect of rain or fog had been far from Souji’s mind. “You’re special to me, you know?”

And Souji had gripped the wooden fence so hard at that sentiment that he had blood under his fingernails for weeks. Even now, he digs his fingers into the sheets and wonders if he’ll ever be that special again.

June 1, 2011

It’s a little difficult for Souji to constantly keep his “leader mask” on this time around, because he knows this could all fall apart piece-by-piece at any given moment. His ignorance of the timeline during the previous year was almost a relief, unlike this dark, massive cloud that looms over him now. This happened because he had messed up, and it falls entirely on himself to mend it all back together. He understands that, and yet…

“Hey, heeeeey,” Chie startles him. She snaps her fingers in front of his face with a frown. “Stop thinking so much. We saved Kanji, remember? He’s fine. Anyways, we’re all gonna train in the TV world today, yeah?”

Souji nods and gives her a reassuring smile. 

So, that’s how they spend their day: fighting leftover Shadows in Yukiko’s castle and Kanji’s bathhouse. He was able to find all new weapons for himself and his friends in various locations, and watches with a nervous grin as Saki wields her new axe around with strength and precision that rivals even Kanji. 

“Saki-chan is amazing!!” Teddie enthuses in their minds, still a bit too loud. 

Yosuke winces, but nods nonetheless. “I’ll say. You’ve really impressed me, Senpai.”

Souji thinks it’s fitting. Saki chose and has become accustomed to such a harsh, gruesome weapon like the axe, and her almost manic expression when she delivers a blow directly onto a Shadow with it—drops of blood splattering across her face—is truly a sight to behold. He thinks she deserves it — to enact such violence when she herself was once a victim of something equally heinous. It really is cathartic to simply slash his way through Shadows sometimes. He imagines each as one of the many troubling thoughts he’s had the past few days, and the pure satisfaction that courses through him when Scathach freezes one, when Ishtar rattles their minds with electricity, when Yoshitsune sends one ten feet underground, is almost addicting. 

As the group walk through the twisted version of Inaba during the return to the studio backlot, Souji watches as the red and black lines of the TV world’s sky interlap and spill outwards. The telephone poles and power lines haunt the view. There is no wind in the TV world — not even the faintest rustle; everything is silent and ominous. 

Can you feel the wind above those lines, Souji thinks, or is it just infinite darkness? Red and black patterns… like my first dream in Inaba… 

“Teddie,” he says as they approach the exit televisions, “can I ask you something?”

Teddie waves his paws happily. “Of course you can, Sensei!”

Souji crouches down to be level with him and says quietly, “When we first came here, you said this world has ‘always been like this’, right? Like, with the filming equipment and everything?”

“I still don’t really know what this ‘filming’ thing is, but I’ve lived here forever,” Teddie replies solemnly. “It’s always looked the same as now.”

“You know,” Yosuke chimes, clapping a hand on Souji’s shoulder and crouching down as well, “I’ve been wondering the same thing. What really is this TV world anyways?”

Yukiko leans down too, Saki and Chie following. She smooths her skirt over her thighs and says, “Where did it come from?” 

Teddie gives them all a pathetic frown as he rubs his paws together. “I wish I had an answer, really.”

Later on, as Souji and Yukiko lean against the walls outside of Shiroku and drip blue raspberry popsicles all over their school uniforms, Souji listens to his friend as she recounts the story—for a second time—of how she and Chie found Muku. 

“Oh, the poor little thing,” Yukiko laments. A blue drop trails down her chin. “Just shivering in my lap. Luckily, Chie cheered him up quickly.”

“And Chie still has him now?” Souji asks, licking the last bit of his popsicle. 

“Mhm. I tried to persuade my parents to keep him, and I was sad when they disagreed, but knowing he has good company and that I’m still able to see him often, well… I suppose that’s enough for me.”

The pair sit in silence for a few moments, listening to the evening cicadas murmuring in the surrounding trees. An elderly couple passes by and waves to them. Souji can just barely hear their conversation about their prospects for a garden.

“Hey, listen to this,” Souji says, looking at the joke on his popsicle stick. “‘What falls down but never gets hurt’?” At Yukiko’s shrug, he continues. “Rain.”

She tilts her head, seriously considering the truthfulness of this. And then, as if it was common knowledge, “Maybe not, but it hurts others.”

Souji looks downward, studying a line of ants lapping at some of the spilled juice from their carelessness. “There’s been a lot of rain recently," Nanako had said just a few days ago. Guilt pools his insides and doesn’t settle. This isn’t the time for senseless fantasies that likely won’t go anywhere. Mayumi Yamano had died, and Saki, Yukiko, and Kanji could have, too. If he isn’t careful, Morooka could be killed by Mitsuo again, and Rise and Naoto could die, and Nanako could be taken again, and, and, and-

“But…” Yukiko interrupts his near downward spiral and places a gentle hand on his wrist. The corner of her mouth gradually wanders upward. “I’ve always liked the rain. Dogs have hurt others, and cars have killed people, yet we still drive them, and I still love Muku.”

“And people kill other people…” Souji mumbles, mouth dry, memories slick with echoes of a hospital room — of TVs and fog and Kunino-sagiris.

Yukiko looks at him for a long moment, then flicks the last of her popsicle onto the ground and turns to watch the ants gather wildly around it. “But we’re not those people.”

She starts walking away then, heels slowly clicking on the pavement as the heavy orange sun glints its way into the angles of her uniform. Souji’s heart sinks as he watches her go, supposing she needs to be home. She turns around to face him after a few steps, holding her hand to her forehead to block the light. Souji feels like he’s watching the whole thing outside of his body. All at once, it occurs to him that she isn’t walking away from him, but guiding him elsewhere. She leads them to the shrine—to a scattering of stones just near the entrance—and sits down on one. In the distance, he hears the fox yelping.

Yukiko folds and unfolds the top of her calf socks repeatedly as she reads her own popsicle stick. “‘How many apples grow on an apple tree’?”

Souji smiles lazily. He criss-crosses his legs and basks in the warmth seeping its way into his skin. “All of them.”

June 6, 2011

The early summer days pass by quickly, filled with Nanako’s laughter, Chie’s passionate resolve, and the taste of Saki and Yukiko’s (surprisingly adequate) home-cooked melon pan. Before he knows it—or tries to avoid it—Yosuke makes his way into the equation, pressed against his side on the half-walls of Yasogami’s rooftop as he listens intently to Kanji’s speech. He looks to Souji for guidance every so often, and when Souji reveals that the commonality between the kidnappings is that all were interviewed on TV beforehand, his partner’s expression is nothing short of pure admiration. 

“That… does make sense. Looking back, Saki-senpai, Yukiko-san, and Kanji were all shown on TV before they appeared on the Midnight Channel. I wonder how this guy figured it out,” Yosuke says, glancing at the scribbles on the paper in his hand. “How’d you get this from him anyways, Kanji?”

“I mean… I just took it.”

Chie frowns. “Well, if someone else appears on the Midnight Channel and it turns out they were seen on TV beforehand, then our theory really is correct…”

Kanji rubs his head. “Just can’t believe I don’t remember anything at all about that night… ‘cept darkness.”  

“It is strange…” Saki agrees. She gestures among herself, Yukiko, and Kanji. “None of us remember much.”

“I just wish I could freakin’ remember…” Kanji grumbles. 

Souji stares at Mayumi Yamano’s name on the list for the female announcer rankings, recalling what Chie had said about it less than ten minutes ago: “Does this mean she wasn’t that well known until the incident?”. If that’s true, then why target her? Why go after someone with a generally low profile? The thing about Saki, Yukiko, Kanji, and everyone else that would be kidnapped, is that they had all started to become somewhat popular with the town, leading to their interviews. The only exception would be Mitsuo. He hadn’t appeared on TV beforehand, but he had still tried to make a name for himself, and had still garnered attention after the team had rescued him.

So why is Ms. Yamano so different? 

Yosuke elbows him. “Figure something out?” 

Souji looks at the rest of the group’s expectant faces and sighs. “Not really, but if the killer is targeting people who are rapidly becoming popular in Inaba, why would he go after Mayumi Yamano then? She wasn’t well known, like Chie said. It makes me wonder.” 

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence?” Yukiko speculates.

Souji shakes his head. “It can’t be. Nothing that’s happened so far has been.”

The team discuss Ms. Yamano and the TV for a while, and eventually the topic falls back to Kanji again. 

“Um, just wanted to say thanks again,” Kanji mutters. He fidgets with his nose piercing. “Couldn’t have been easy dealin’ with all that. And uh, what my Shadow said… ‘s true of course. I found girls scary for a while, and… w-well they’re still kind of scary, but for different reasons.” He looks pointedly at the group, a mixture of apprehension and assertiveness crossing his face. “I’d like to find out who I am. Maybe I like girls like that. Maybe I don’t. And maybe… maybe I like guys like that, too. Or both. I just… I dunno, but you guys have accepted me so far… and, uh. Yeah.”

Saki smiles, gently kicking her legs back and forth on the wall. “We want to help you find yourself, Kanji-kun.”

“Mhm,” Yukiko agrees. “I think we can all help each other.”

Chie nods and pumps a fist. “Yeah, and since we have our Personas now, it’ll probably be easier!”

Souji looks determinedly at Kanji. He knows by heart how hard coming to terms with your sexuality is. Hell, he himself still isn’t even near the finish line. Or maybe there isn’t one. Still. “We’ll be here for you, Kanji.”

Kanji smiles. “Thanks, guys.”

Yosuke has been quiet at Souji’s side for a while, but after a few moments, he hesitantly speaks. “It… it takes a lot of courage to say all that stuff to us.”

Kanji’s eyes widen. “Y-Yeah…” 

Yosuke gives him a small, wobbly smile, and that seems to be enough for Kanji. And Souji too, for that matter. This timeline’s Yosuke is miles ahead of the former, just with that admittance alone. 

“Well…” Yosuke coughs. “You guys wanna head over to Junes?”

“Nuh-uh. Us girls have plans already,” Chie says, throwing her arms around Yukiko and Saki. 

Saki chuckles with a hand to her mouth. “Sorry. We planned this a few weeks ago.”

The girls make their way to the exit doors, and… is it just Souji’s imagination, or are Chie and Yukiko holding hands? Kanji seems to have noticed too, as a blush slowly covers his face. 

“Well,” Souji says as the door closes, “we three could still do something.”

“What’s that?” Kanji asks. 

“I’ll bet you haven’t been fishing before, Kanji.”

Yosuke groans. “Ugh, man… Do we really have to?” 

“Come on, we can feed Oscar too,” Souji says. “I know you like him.”

“Oscar…?” Kanji asks warily, another blush appearing. 

And now Yosuke is blushing, too. “H-He’s a cat! Alright, let's just go!”

Yosuke is terrible at fishing. Kanji isn’t much better. The problem is, neither one of them have much patience to begin with, so applying it to a task like this is virtually impossible for them. 

“Dude, are these freakin’ things ever gonna take a damn bite?!” Kanji complains, thrashing his fishing pole around in the Samegawa like a madman. 

“Shh, you’ll scare the fish,” Souji whispers. He places his index finger to his lips. “Look, even Oscar is annoyed.” Oscar—who had been dozing between Souji and Yosuke on the small platform—now has his head up, glaring at Kanji and swishing his tail back and forth. Souji pats his head until he calms down into slumber again. “You need to change your reeling style up a bit. Try going slow, then fast, then slow again.”

“Will that really help much?” Yosuke asks, face red and bright in the sun. A few more freckles have appeared on his nose. 

Souji casts his line. “It can.”

“That’s not too reassuring, partner.”

Yosuke casts his line too, but it ends up getting tangled with Souji’s, and the two spend the next five minutes unraveling thread. Kanji continues to complain in the background, but as soon as they finish untangling the lines, he shoots right up. 

“H-Hey! I got one! I got one!” Kanji yells, reeling with all his might. 

Souji stands next to Kanji and dodges repeatedly as he makes haphazard tugs on his fishing pole. “You need to set your line more firmly than that.” He demonstrates with his own pole, tugging hard. “Like this.”

Kanji nods fervently and tugs harder. “Come on, come on, come on!” He reels a few more times, and suddenly an Inaba Trout breaks the surface of the water. “Hell yeah! Look, Senpai!”

Souji gives a thumbs up and takes a picture on his phone of Kanji with his fish, smile bright and hands soaked.

Yosuke peers over his shoulder at the picture. “Agh, no fair. I don’t even like fish, but I wanna catch one too.”

“You will, Yosuke,” Souji says. “I believe in you.”

Though, Yosuke doesn’t end up catching one. Kanji catches one more fish, while Souji catches three more, then they call it a day. After dropping Kanji off, Souji walks home with Yosuke. 

“Hey, do you think someone else will be kidnapped?” Yosuke asks him as they make a quick stop at a vending machine for drinks. 

I wish they wouldn’t… Souji thinks. 

He uncaps his orange soda and sips a bit before replying. “I wish I knew for sure, but honestly, with the pattern so far, there’s a good probability it will happen again.”

Yosuke kicks at the ground. “I really wish there was something we could do to prevent it.”

“I do too, but at least we know that we have a means of saving them if it comes to that again.”

Yosuke smiles. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly. “True. And in any case, there’s still a real criminal at large. We have to find out who it is no matter what.”

“I know we all can solve this,” Souji says. Maybe if he says it enough, it will come true. “We have to.”

“Yeah.” Yosuke playfully punches him on the shoulder. “We will, partner. You and me.”

The two part ways a few minutes later. Soon after, the sight of Adachi and Nanako in the living room of the Dojima Residence greets Souji as he walks through the front door. He’s puzzled to say the least. Adachi had never been in his house without Dojima there in the last timeline, as far as he can remember. 

“Hey, Souji!” Adachi greets. A stray udon noodle hangs out of the side of his mouth. 

Nanako grins and runs to give him a hug at the doorway. “Welcome home, Big Bro!”

Souji scoops her up and gives her a big hug, which makes his sister giggle unabashedly. “Hi. Where’s Uncle at, Adachi-san?”

“He had to run back to the station. Forgot some paperwork,” Adachi explains. “He said I could stay here in the meantime, but if I’m, uh, being a bother… I can just-“

Souji shakes his head. It’s a little strange, since he doesn’t know Adachi too well. But if Dojima gave him permission, then it should be fine. Besides, he has a social link with him now. “Don’t worry. It’s no bother.”

“We saved you some!” Nanako says, sitting back down at her cushion.

Souji joins them and picks up a pair of chopsticks. He bows his head. “Thank you for the food.”

The bond tied to “The Jester” arcana stirs in his chest as Adachi turns to face him. “How’s school? Are you studying hard?” 

Why do adults only want to talk about school?

Souji laughs. “Of course. I have to set a good example for Nanako, after all.”

Adachi laughs, too. “Well, I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job at that. Dojima-san’s always going on about how good her grades are.”

Nanako’s eyes sparkle. “He is?”

“Oh yeah! All the time!” Adachi replies, grinning like a goofball. “And that’s not even counting all the other stuff he says! If you ask me, I don’t think he could shut up about you even if he tried.”

Nanako looks down at her food happily. Sweet. Souji knows Adachi isn’t exaggerating. Dojima’s a simple man; he cares for very little, but when he does care, it’s absolutely overwhelming. Souji wonders—with the faintest twinge of jealousy in his heart—what it would be like to have parents who loved you that much. 

“Man, this stuff really hits the spot.” Adachi gestures to his bowl of noodles. “Miles better than the cup ramen I usually eat.”

“Cup ramen?” Souji asks. 

“Yeah. I eat it a lot ‘cause I’m always too tired to make something after work. You probably wouldn’t understand that yet, though.”

What’s more tiring: fighting a friend’s inner thoughts in a world inside a TV, or clowning around at the Junes entrance during breaks?

“Well, I have a lot of extracurriculars, and a few part-time jobs too,” Souji says, “but I still find the time to cook. It’s enjoyable to me.”

Adachi tilts his head. “Hm? What kind of work do you do?”

“There’s a daycare and a hospital I go to sometimes, tutoring for a young kid, and some simple remote work I do from my bedroom, like folding envelopes.”

“Folding envelopes? You can seriously make money doing that? Huh… Guess that’s not too weird in a town like this.”

Souji huffs. “Right? I even volunteer to make origami for someone every so often. No idea what for though.”

Adachi clutches his stomach as he laughs. “That’s so weird! I wish I could do that as my job.”

“But don’t you like being a detective?” Nanako asks. 

“Huh? Well yeah, of course I do, but it’s really hard some days. I have a duty to be civil to everybody, even if they get on my nerves a bit.” Adachi sighs and slurps up some more noodles. “But I guess I can’t really complain.”

Nanako furrows her brows. She pokes at her food. “Dad says I should be nice to everybody, even if they’re mean to me…”

Souji doesn’t completely agree with that. Yes, he is usually kind to everybody, but sometimes there really are moments where you just can’t help it. “Just don’t let anyone push you around, Nanako.”

“I won’t, Big Bro!”

“You’re a real good brother, Souji,” Adachi says fondly, setting his now empty bowl down. “Nanako adores you.”

Nanako giggles and buries her head in Souji’s arm. “He’s the best big brother ever!”

Souji could cry, honestly. Knowing that Nanako will be able to grow up with he and his friends’ support settles his worries greatly, and knowing whole-heartedly that she loves him is a kind of joy that he once wanted more than anything. And now? Now he has that. 

He ruffles Nanako’s hair and pulls her in for a hug. “And you’re the best little sister ever.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Adachi groans. “You two are gonna make me cry! And I can’t cry in public, you know!”

Souji laughs. “Sorry, Adachi-san.”

“Hm?” a voice grunts from the doorway. “What did you do now, Adachi?”

“N-Nothing, Dojima-san! Seriously!”

Dojima flings his coat and a folder onto the couch, then seats himself at the empty cushion and digs in immediately. “What a day…”

A meteorologist’s voice on TV serves as background noise while the four converse over dinner. Adachi chimes in frequently, Dojima even laughs a few times with him, and Nanako just looks happy to see her father happy.

As Souji ascends the staircase after dinner, he thinks of Kanji’s smile as he caught that fish today, of Saki’s golden hair flowing in the wind on the rooftop, of Chie and Yukiko’s interlinked hands — the sweet look that crossed Yukiko’s face as Chie’s arm brushed hers. And lastly—as he crawls into bed—of Yosuke’s new freckles zig-zagging along his face, of his fond eyes as Oscar jumped in an attempt to catch Souji’s fish, and of the warmth and tenderness of his fingers as he wiped a drop of orange soda from Souji’s chin. 

For the first time in weeks, Souji doesn’t have any nightmares.

June 8, 2011

After Mr. Morooka’s announcement during homeroom that the school camping trip would be taking place next week, the whole class is buzzing for the rest of the day. 

“Oh, Yukiko!” Chie says, tapping Yukiko at the desk in front of her. “Let’s get some things from Junes soon so we can cook while we’re there!”

Yukiko turns around in her chair and places a finger to her lips in thought. “Hmm, but what should we make?”

“How about curry?”

Souji’s stomach churns at that word. The contents threaten to spill out of his mouth completely at Yukiko’s next words. 

“We’ll need to buy some sardines and coffee mix then!”

“L-Let me help you two pick out the ingredients, alright?” Souji suggests. 

The girls look confused, but agree nonetheless. At least he seems to be avoiding most minor disasters in this timeline. 

Yosuke approaches him at lunchtime, upbeat like the rest of the school. Souji assumes he’s about to say something about the girls in their swimsuits, so he braces for the worst, until something completely different comes out of his friend’s mouth.

“Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle?”

It certainly isn’t the strangest thing for him to say, Souji supposes. “No, why?”

Yosuke looks ready to practically burst at the seams as he bounces on his feet. He crouches at Souji’s desk, leans forward, and lowers his voice so that nobody else can hear him. “I just had the most amazing idea, man! What if we got our motorcycle licenses… and then had girls ride on them with us?!”

Souji’s stomach churns for a different reason now. A mixture of jealousy, disgust at Yosuke’s warped intentions, and self-loathing at his own feelings toward his friend claws at his insides. Despite that, his voice comes out even. “Girls?”

“Girls, dude! Pressed against your back! You know what I mean, right?” 

Souji watches Yosuke’s mouth form around the word “right”, seemingly in slow motion. He glances up to his eyes, but in something so uncharacteristically like Yosuke, they don’t hint at any emotion whatsoever. Almost like he’s guarding something. Souji wouldn’t doubt that his partner picked up that skill from his own perpetually blank face. 

“Are you sure you want a motorcycle for that reason only?” Souji asks a little too loudly, as Chie looks over to the two, then quickly returns her gaze to Yukiko. 

“Keep your voice down,” Yosuke advises. “And no, obviously. But come on, wouldn’t that make the whole thing even better?”

Souji rests a fist to his cheek at his desk. “Are sev-, uh, sixteen year olds even allowed to get a motorcycle license?”

Sweet sixteen, he reminds himself. No longer the dancing queen.

“Yeah, I did my research. Hey, why are you being so lame about this, partner?”

Yosuke places a hand on Souji’s knee. The latter flinches without thought, knocking it painfully into the bottom of his desk. Christ. Nice going, Seta! He gingerly cradles his kneecap as Chie and Yukiko look over at them in concern.

“Are you okay, Souji-kun?” Chie asks. 

“Yes…” Souji mutters. He warily glances back at Yosuke, who looks just as shocked as the girls. “Sorry. Reflexes.”

“R-Right.”

The pain subsides gradually. Honestly, Souji does like the idea of getting a motorcycle or some kind of electric bike and cruising around with his friends, but what he doesn’t like is Yosuke’s motivation for buying one. Whatever makes him happy though, right?

Souji finally releases his leg. “Well, I guess we can study up and take the test…”

“Really?!”

“Sure, why not?”

“Oh, you’re the best, partner! Let’s go find some guides, c’mon!”

And really, it’s not like Souji could ever say no in the face of love, however persistent it may be. Yosuke had once told him to murder someone, for heaven’s sake, and Souji had been an inch close to going through with it. Really… really!

So, that’s how he and his uncle have a discussion on the subject that night. Nanako observes the two intently, ever the mediator in Souji’s tense life. 

“Well, I guess it’s not too bad of an idea. I had a motorcycle license at your age too,” Dojima admits. He glances at his smiling daughter. “You will not be taking rides on it with him, though.”

Nanako pouts. “Awww.”

“Can I really, Uncle?” Souji asks, becoming increasingly more and more excited over the idea with each passing second. It had grown on him during the afternoon. 

“I suppose, but it will have to be a scooter, and you have to get your license first. And if you do get your license, I have one condition…”

“What’s that?” 

“I… I want you to get your parents' permission,” Dojima says, expression softening. “What kind of a guardian would I be if I didn’t make you do that, you get me?”

Souji can understand where he’s coming from, but it doesn’t make him like the idea any more. He could always ask Dojima to get their permission instead, but reckons that would be too childish. “Okay… I understand. Thank you, Uncle.”

Nanako claps her hands together. “Yay! Big Bro’s gonna be in a biker gang!”

The tension in the air breaks. Souji and Dojima both share a small laugh. 

“That’s… not quite it,” Dojima says. “Oh, and you’ll need a helmet too, Souji.”

June 10, 2011

Souji and Yosuke manage to get their licenses two days later, both passing the exam with flying colors. Yosuke stretches his limbs out as they exit the testing building, laughing giddily in the setting sun. The sight is so adorable to Souji that if he’s blushing, (And he’s one hundred percent sure he is) well, he can just blame it on the sun.

“That was soooo easy, right, partner?” Yosuke asks.

“Definitely,” Souji agrees, comparing their photos on the small cards. 

“Woah, is this the first time you’ve ever smiled for a picture?”

“Shut up. I’m never making you food again.”

Yosuke puts a hand to his heart, feigning sadness. “Partner, that’s way too harsh! You want me to starve?”

They laugh together and celebrate their accomplishment for a few minutes, but after a while, Souji grows silent. 

Yosuke frowns. “Something wrong?” 

Souji smiles wryly. He slows his pace as they walk down the shopping district. “Mm.”

“You can tell me,” Yosuke offers, bumping his shoulder with Souji’s. Miraculously, he doesn’t flinch away this time. “Only if you want, of course.”

Souji takes a few moments to respond, but eventually speaks up. “I have to call my parents and ask for permission to get a bike.”

“…You don’t get along with your folks?” 

Souji nods. He briefly locks eyes with Yosuke, then looks back at the Shiroku store. Eri Minami is visible inside the window. 

Is she shopping for Yuuta? he wonders, succumbing to the usual misery that comes with lines of thinking involving parental figures. 

“You know, if you want me to be there when you call them, I can,” Yosuke says kindly. The sunlight catches in his eyes, and Souji is reminded of Yukiko’s expression the other day, when she had turned to look at him in the same evening sun and guided him toward the shrine. 

“I… yeah,” Souji agrees, voice barely above a whisper. “That would be helpful. Thanks, partner.”

Yosuke rubs his nose behind a smile. “We’ve gotta look out for each other, right?” 

Souji matches his smile. “Right.”

Souji invites him over for dinner, where they tell Nanako and Dojima the good news. 

Dojima chuckles warmly as he looks between the two boys’ licenses on the small table. “Congratulations.”

“Yay!” Nanako squeaks, abandoning her oyakodon and giving the two a hug. “Congrats Big Bro and Yosuke-nii!”

“Thanks, Nanako-chan!” Yosuke replies just as enthusiastically.

“I didn’t even do that well on my exam,” Dojima remarks. “I’m impressed.”

“It was super easy,” Yosuke gloats, talking with his mouth full. 

Dojima grimaces as a bit of egg falls out of Yosuke’s mouth and into the bowl, but continues to laugh nonetheless. Yosuke and Nanako have a light-hearted discussion about Junes for a while, until Dojima announces that she needs to get ready for bed. Nanako heads upstairs. The remaining three absently watch the news for a few moments. 

“You ready to give them a call, Souji?” Dojima eventually asks — the proverbial ripping of the bandaid.

Souji glances at Yosuke, who smiles encouragingly, then nods. He punches the number into the house phone with shaking hands and sets it to speaker. The phone rings for what seems like an eternity. His palms and the back of his neck coat with a thick sheen of sweat. 

“Ryo?” a woman’s voice finally picks up. Reiko Seta, through and through. “Is that you?”

Souji feels Dojima’s careful eyes on him, Yosuke at his side, and clears his throat. “N-No. It’s Souji.”

Reiko’s tone is stern. “Souji? What is it? Did you do something?” 

Souji casts his eyes downward, staring fixedly at the detail on the handle of the dresser. He misses the way Yosuke’s eyes harden. “No, nothing’s happened. I just… wanted to ask you something.”

“Well, what is it? I’m very busy right now.”

His heart hammers so loudly in his ears that he misses the way Dojima grunts in dissatisfaction, too. 

“Um, well… I got my m-motorcycle license today. I’ve been thinking about it lately, and I really want a bike. Uncle says I can get a scooter, if that’s okay with you and Dad.”

Souji bites and kneads at his lips as he awaits a response. 

“A bike? Who persuaded you into this?”

Yosuke starts to stammer at his side, but Souji shakes his head. “N-No one did. This was my idea.”

“I don’t believe you. What kind of foolish thoughts are they putting into your head in that town, honestly… Didn’t I tell you to focus on your work, Souji? But of course you refuse to listen to me. You spend your time around bad influences instead. Typical.”

Souji continues to shake his head at nothing in particular. “I’m not. I promise. Didn’t, um, didn’t you call Uncle the other day asking about my grades? And he told… told you they were good, right?”

“Hmph,” Reiko says, lapsing into a brief silence once more. “I suppose you wouldn’t be able to make friends anyway, isn’t that right?”

Incredible how she always manages to strip him out of autonomy, even halfway across the globe. Souji closes his eyes, breathing laboriously. His whole body shakes as he responds. “Yes… that’s… that’s right.”

“Well,” Reiko says, and Souji can feel her pleased words practically drip through the receiver, “as long as your grades remain constant, you can have it. But if you slip even once, don’t expect to ever see another bike in your lifetime. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand…”

“Mm.”

Reiko hangs up. Souji puts the phone back on the stand and looks at it numbly. Four bleeds into eight, and eight bleeds into zero, and zero bleeds into Panasonic written on the stand. 

“Well, kid,” Dojima says, putting a careful hand on his shoulder, “looks like you’ve got yourself a bike.”

Souji nods. “Yes. Thank you, Uncle.”

“No need to thank me, Souji,” Dojima says. He briefly glances between him and Yosuke, then ascends the steps. “I’ll be upstairs.”

Souji avoids Yosuke’s eyes. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, not even bothering to hide how he feels. It’s always like this. Always, always, always. 

After some time, Yosuke speaks up, very quietly. “I’m sorry…”

Souji shrugs. “That’s just how it is…”

“It shouldn’t be, though.” Yosuke sighs when Souji doesn’t respond, and a moment later, he feels Yosuke’s hands on his shoulders behind him, rubbing up and down. It isn’t exactly a hug, but it’s close enough, and it makes Souji’s anxious breaths and violent tremors halt altogether. “That stuff she said wasn’t true at all, you know that, partner?”

Souji shrugs again. “I don’t know. That’s what I’ve always been made to believe.”

“She’s wrong,” Yosuke says decisively, as if daring Souji to disagree with him. “Look around you: everyone here adores you. Chie wants you to train with her all the time, Yukiko-san wants you to try her cooking, Saki-senpai’s always asking you to hang out, Teddie calls you ‘Sensei’—which I think is pretty self-explanatory—and even Kanji asked you to help him sew something the other day, right?” Yosuke quiets even more then. He pulls Souji close to his chest and rests his head against his own. “And me? Well, I’m your partner. Someone who asked you to get your license with him, who goes with you and Nanako-chan to the Samegawa, and who will stand by you through anything.” He breaks away from the semi-hug, turning Souji around in his arms and looking directly at him with a grin. “Sounds like you’ve made a lot of friends, huh? And I didn’t even mention the fox, the granny, or Kou and Daisuke’s stupid selves.”

Souji’s lips quirk upward. “Hey, that granny is really nice for your information.”

“Hmm, didn’t she say you reminded her of her dead husband?”

Souji laughs softly. Yosuke’s eyes sparkle with mirth. 

“Thank you, Yosuke,” Souji says after they settle down. “You really don’t know how much that means to me.”

“Don’t mention it,” Yosuke responds. “Souji, you remember what you told me about those kids in Tokyo? It’s not going to be like that here. We really do care about you. We’ll be here for you, just like you are for us.”

Souji nods, surely grinning like an idiot in love. (And, well… he is an idiot in love.)

“That Hanamura’s a pretty good kid, huh?” Dojima remarks, coming downstairs just as the front door closes on Yosuke. 

“He is,” Souji says. He means it with every fibre of his being. 

After, he decides to check on the plants again. He usually only does this with Nanako, but he felt compelled out of nowhere. And when he looks down at the squash plant that Dojima had planted, it’s shooting straight up at the night sky, no hints of decay to be found. 

June 11, 2011

Souji receives a call from his uncle after the school day ends. 

“Hey,” Dojima’s voice sounds over the receiver, “are you doing anything right now? There’s something I want to show you at the gas station in the shopping district.”

Souji heads over there with Yosuke in tow — “What else could it be, dude?!” as his reasoning. Lo and behold, Tohru Adachi is doing circles on a white scooter in the parking lot of the Moel gas station upon their arrival. The long-haired attendant and Dojima watch in bemusement. 

“That is seriously a cool freakin’ bike!” Yosuke shouts as Adachi finally parks the bike in front of them. 

Souji is nearly at a loss for words as Dojima explains how it was once his scooter. “Uncle, I… thank you. You really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” Dojima says warmly, an unlit cigarette held between his teeth. 

“Make sure you come here if you ever have any problems with it,” the station attendant chimes in. “We keep a lot of automobile parts inside.”

Souji nods in thanks, laughing inwardly as even the weird attendant is taken with the scooter. It really is a nice bike, and he’s so grateful to his uncle for it. 

“Whaddya say, kid?” Adachi smirks and revs the engine. “Wanna give it a go?”

Souji can’t help his giddiness as he slips on his helmet and seats himself. Yosuke sneaks in behind him, warm hands gripping his waist, and Souji is beginning to seriously wonder if he can develop an arrhythmia from this. 

“D-Don’t go too fast, okay, partner? I don’t really wanna die today,” Yosuke jokes from behind him, but even so, Souji can hear the excitement in his voice. 

Souji kicks off, and in no time at all, the two are cruising the narrow roads of the shopping district at a reasonable pace, yet it still feels invigorating. 

“This is awesome!” Yosuke yells in his ear as they whizz past Aiya. He holds Souji tighter.

And it is, in fact, awesome. It’s a smooth ride, hardly any faults at all for such an old vehicle. They laugh together as the bike winds the roads of Inaba aimlessly. Past the shrine, past Tatsumi Textiles, past Konishi Liquors, and past the vending machines he and Yosuke had stopped at the other day. Yosuke’s hair that isn’t covered by the helmet tickles Souji’s neck. He’s never felt so free.

When they arrive back at the station, Dojima, Adachi, and the attendant are all smiling as they wait for them. Waiting — waiting. Souji’s never had adults in his life willing to wait for him. It’s always been a hastily-scrawled note left on the bar, no food in the fridge, unsigned forms for Parents’ Day shoved in the trash can. The little boy in him longs to throw his arms around his uncle and cry; the memories that haunt him here and now are what prevents it.

Yosuke takes his helmet off and shakes his hair about as he gets off the scooter. “That. Is. Amazing, Dojima-san!”

Dojima laughs. “I’m glad to see it’s still in good shape even after all these years.”

Adachi gazes wistfully at the vehicle. “For such an old bike, it sure does work wonders…”

“Did you want to do circles again, Adachi-san?” Souji half-jokes.

“No!” Adachi says quickly, glancing warily at Dojima. “T-That’s alright!” 

The attendant nods at Yosuke. “Why don’t you give it a shot?”

Yosuke’s smile trembles as he looks to Dojima, but the latter isn’t fazed at all. “Knock yourself out.”

Yosuke and Souji trade mirror looks of excitement and switch their positions on the scooter. Souji’s face heats as he lightly presses his hands against Yosuke’s waist, though his partner doesn’t seem to mind the arrangement at all, likely too full of adrenaline to care. 

“Alright, here goes,” Yosuke says to the four, starting the engine back up and kicking off.

Yosuke drives a little faster than Souji had, and maybe it’s the speed, or maybe it is the touch of Yosuke against him, but Souji feels that this is way more thrilling than when he drove it himself.

“You wanna go on the main road?” Yosuke asks after a few minutes.

Souji nods, and they turn back to confirm it with his uncle first, then merge onto the road from the north side of the shopping district. Thankfully, it isn’t busy at all. Only a few other cars join them. Souji takes a chance and scoots closer to Yosuke, his whole front now pressed against the other’s back. 

“You alright back there?” Yosuke asks. 

“Yeah, sorry. Just getting too close to the edge.”

Yosuke nods and doesn’t say any more, even when Souji curls his fingers nearer and nearer to Yosuke’s stomach and lays his head with all the force of a butterfly on his shoulder blade. Souji sighs in contentment, watching the buildings and trees pass them by, listening to the dull hum of the engine underneath them, and feeling warmer than ever before as he basks in pure Yosuke. He smiles—a bit smugly—as he realizes that he is the one pressed up against Yosuke and not a girl like he had wanted. He closes his eyes against the sunlight, which washes the whole stretch of road in orange.

Yosuke’s color… Souji’s mind supplies. 

He wishes everyday could be as simple as this. As freeing as bike rides with a lover, as small as the warmth of skin and the sweet scent of his partner; as peaceful as the cicadas singing in their trees—the hum of their ballad and the scooter’s engine combined hypnotizing him into sleep—and as stomach-swirling and hand-trembling as Yosuke’s laughter against him. Yosuke turns to look at him out of the corner of his eye at a red light. His smile is soft, and his eyes are softer, blending right in with the low-hanging sun above them.

And really, Souji loves the sun. 

Chapter Text

June 16, 2011

The frigid air of the Junes produce department is very much welcomed on a day like today.

A sweltering ninety-two degrees had greeted Souji, Chie, Yukiko, and Saki as they met outside the school gates at the end of the day, and as soon as Souji gets close enough to the chill of the produce stand, he pulls his shirt out a bit to get the air flowing underneath it. Saki and Chie have the same idea, leaning their heads against the frosted glass when workers aren’t looking. Saki ties her long hair into a bun. It’s a good look on her, really, and Souji’s heart twists with the knowledge that if she had died again, he wouldn’t be able to see it at all. Yukiko watches them from a ways with a slight blush on her face. Souji traces her gaze to where Chie’s shirt has ridden up. He had always thought in the last timeline that maybe the two girls had hidden feelings for each other, but he really didn’t have much time to think about it then, too overwhelmed with the murder cases, the kidnappings, and his own complex feelings toward Yosuke.  

“Y’know, Chie and Yukiko seem different lately… They’re a lot closer. Oh yeah, I was just curious, but are you…?”

The implications of that sentence which Yosuke had said to him last time pretty much solidify any questions about the girls, but what was he going to ask? 

“Well, what should we get first?” Chie asks the three, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Yukiko quickly averts her gaze. 

“Let’s get the daikon and carrots first, then the potatoes and roux mix,” Souji says, shaking away his thoughts. “We should probably get some snacks for in-between meals, too.”

God forbid something goes wrong with the curry, even though he’s the one in charge of ingredients and will make sure cooking falls on him, too. As the group make their way to the stack of potatoes after gathering the previous ingredients, Souji hears a voice that is quickly becoming familiar to him again. 

“Hey, Seta. Fancy seeing you here,” Ai Ebihara calls from the other side of the stand. She’s holding about ten large tomatoes, threatening to fall out of her arms at any minute. 

Souji hadn’t talked to her all too much during the last timeline, just a bit. He’s only now finding out about her father’s finances and her crush on Kou, (Though, last time he swears he heard through the grapevine that she liked Daisuke? He can’t remember) who Souji needs to speak to soon regarding said girl. 

“Hey, Ai,” he greets. “Do you want me to get you a basket?”

“No thanks! This is all I came here for anyways.”

“Um, Ebihara-san?” Saki asks with twitching lips. “What are you doing with all those tomatoes?”

“Me and my mom are making pasta sauce from scratch!” Ai explains. She lifts a knee up as a tomato falls slightly. “Hey, Seta, can you grab me a caramel latte from the fridge behind you?” 

Souji grabs a few tomatoes out of her arms. “I’m going to get you a basket.”

When he reaches the group after fetching a basket, Yukiko is already talking animatedly to Ai about the curry they will be making on the trip. 

“I think it’s going to turn out good!” she says. “Though, I really think it would be better if we could add sardines to it, but Souji-kun said that’s not a very good idea.” 

Ai fixes Souji with a concerned look as she puts the tomatoes and coffee into the basket. “I’m dreading going on this trip. I wish I could skip, but my counselor said my attendance is bad enough already. Let’s hang out there so it doesn’t suck too much, ‘kay?” 

“Sure, of course.”

“We should all do something on the trip,” Saki suggests. “Like, one big game maybe. I can ask my brother to come too!”

Yukiko’s eyes light up. “That sounds fun!”

“What kind of game?” Chie asks, nervously laughing at Yukiko’s expression.

The King’s Game comes to mind, but that might be a little too tasteless for a trip where they will be heavily supervised. At least in Tatsumi Port Island they had more freedom. A particularly strange image of Morooka and Sofue playing along with the group flits through Souji’s head, and he quickly dismisses the thought before it can progress any further. 

“We can decide when we get there,” Saki says. “How about that?” 

“Mmm, okay. I’m down,” Ai agrees. “You have my number, Seta, so just let me know when everyone gets together.”

Ai disbands from them about a half hour later when Souji goes to look at swimsuits (Dojima hadn’t bought him one for Children’s Day this time, unfortunately. Or maybe fortunately? It was a weird gift). The girls are off in their own section, and he’s just holding a pair up to his waist to determine if it would fit him when another voice startles him.

“Those look a little short, partner,” Yosuke says, appearing at his side and looking far too innocent in his Junes apron. 

Souji drops the swimsuit on the ground in surprise. “Y-Yosuke,” he laughs out. “You think so?”

Yosuke leans down to pick up the swimsuit. “Yeah, dude. But hey, does this mean we’re going swimming on the trip? I wonder what Senpai will look like in a swimsuit.”

A twinge of jealousy creeps its way across Souji’s heart, but he quickly extinguishes it and grounds himself with the knowledge that Saki was once dead, you selfish idiot. 

“Do you have one?” Souji asks, coughing to get rid of the tightness in his voice. 

“Oh, yeah. Back when I lived in Tokyo, on Sundays, a lot of times we would drive to Kamakura and hit the beach.”

“That sounds nice…”

Yosuke fidgets. “Um, sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, brag or anything.”

“What? No, no, that’s not what I meant to sound like at all. I’m sorry,” Souji backtracks. He runs a hand through his hair. How had the conversation turned so suddenly?

Yosuke places a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s fine. I promise. Calm down, Souji.”

The two stand in silence for a minute. Awkwardness slices through the air like a death sentence. 

Yosuke smiles after a beat. “We’ll have fun on this trip.” 

Souji nods and exhales deeply. “Yeah.”

“Hey, Yosuke!” Chie shouts from practically halfway across the store. “Can you buy us some stuff and use your discount? We’ll pay you back!”

Yosuke sighs, but fishes out his wallet nevertheless. “Sure thing.”

He gives Souji one last smile and wink, hangs the swimsuit on the rack, and then he’s gone. 

June 17, 2011

The bus ride to the camping site is very uncomfortable, and Souji doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it last time around. It’s even more annoying with how Mr. Morooka, Mr. Hosoi, and Mr. Hosoi’s puppet are bitching at each other in the seat in front of he and Yosuke. 

“Do they ever shut up?” Souji grumbles, resting his cheek against the window and blinking through fatigue. His nightmares weren’t kind last night.

Yosuke doesn’t respond. Souji feels like an idiot when he looks to the side and sees Yosuke’s headphones over his ears, completely engrossed in his own world. He eyes the headphones with jealousy, to which Yosuke quickly catches him staring. 

“You say something?” he asks, pushing one side behind his ear. 

“That is not in the curriculum!” Morooka yells. “You can’t teach that!” 

“Why not?” Hosoi responds. “It’s valuable information!”

“Valuable information!” the puppet, presumably, squeaks. 

“What the hell?” Yosuke groans.

He glances at Souji again, searching for… well, something. Souji doesn’t know. Yosuke takes his MP3 player out of his pocket and switches to another song, then takes his headphones off of his ears completely and places them on Souji’s instead. 

“You don’t have to-“ Souji says, but Yosuke shushes him, and soon enough the music is flowing through his ears and wow, this is so much nicer than two old men bickering. It’s some kind of jazz, with a repeat of a soft cymbal, drumbeat, and piano, interlaced with a barely there bassline. It steadily builds up and up for a while, falls apart in a beautiful way, then quiets to a saxophone solo. There’s a sense of disorganization and anxiety to it that leaves him on his toes. “What’s this song called?”

The repeat starts again; the wheels under him seem to move in time to the rhythm. It quickly lulls him into sleep, the mountains and forests outside the window engraving themselves under his eyelids. The music is soft enough to hear Yosuke’s voice next to him, but loud enough to cover up the yelling in front of him. 

“‘Take Five’,” Yosuke says.

“This is nice. I didn’t know you liked music like this.”

Yosuke laughs. “I like all kinds of stuff.”

“Mm,” Souji mumbles, finally succumbing to sleep. “Thanks, partner…”

**

“Partner, wake up. Partner. Soooooouji~”

Souji opens his eyes. Yosuke’s shaking him violently while some song about white rooms and black curtains and shadows running from themselves plays in the background. 

“Dude, get up,” Yosuke commands, taking off the headphones once and for all.

Souji obliges glumly. He can hear those damn men bitching at each other again. “They’re still at it?” He scrubs a hand across his face. “How long was I asleep?”

“An hour, maybe? I don’t really know. I just talked to Chie the rest of the way.”

They make their way off the bus and onto the damp ground outside. Souji takes a deep breath. The air in the mountains is even nicer than in Inaba. He never gets tired of it — never wishes to breathe in Tokyo once more.

“Thank you for letting me use your headphones,” Souji says, missing the warmth around his ears already. 

“No problem,” Yosuke says. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

Souji manages a weak smile, still a little out of it. Chie, Yukiko, Saki, and Kanji find their way over to the two a few moments later, and soon enough their tents are up and Souji is situated by a pot of curry over a small fire. 

Saki comes to stand next to him over the pot. “Want some help with that?”

Souji glances around before leaning in and whispering, “As long as you don’t cook like Yukiko or Chie.”

Saki giggles. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to put coffee or fish in the roux.”

Souji laughs, too. “Good.” 

Cooking goes a lot faster and easier with another person around, and in no time the roux is done and the rice has been set to a low boil. 

“This smells amazing, Souji-kun,” Saki compliments, shamelessly sneaking a spoon into the roux to grab a taste. “You’re really an excellent chef. Where did you learn to do this?”

Souji stirs the rice once aimlessly, watching as more and more water evaporates. “I just had to learn growing up.”

“I guess you don’t really enjoy it then, huh?”

“Well, no. Don’t get me wrong. I do like it, but it… it was just hard sometimes.”

Saki smiles gently. “At least there’s one good thing you can take out of the situation. And I can’t say I don’t know the feeling. I mean, you did see my Shadow, after all.” Souji swallows and clears his throat, but doesn’t say anything more. “You know… Yosuke’s been talking about you a lot recently when we hang out. Like, a lot. It’s kind of annoying sometimes.”

Souji blushes. His heart beats a little faster. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. In all seriousness, it’s kinda nice. Remember what I said a few months ago about Yosuke not getting along with other people well? Ever since you transferred here, I’ve seen a huge change in him.”

“Yeah, well… Yosuke’s a strong guy,” Souji says fondly. 

“Mhm. I think he’s even starting to get over me.”

“How does that make you feel?”

Saki pauses for a moment, thinking, then says, “Honestly? It feels really good. I didn’t have many close friends growing up, and now, I feel like I genuinely have people who will support me, including Yosuke. He’s been a good friend besides his little crush. Also, I’m just not interested in a relationship right now.”

“I’m glad that Yosuke is becoming that friend for you, Senpai,” Souji says honestly. This is the kind of happiness his partner deserved in the first place, and Saki too, for that matter. “And we do support you—will support you—always.”

“Thank you, Souji-kun. You don’t know how much that means to me…” Saki says softly. “Oh, looks like the rice is done too.”

Not to brag, but Souji’s dinner is good. It’s perfect. Everyone is asking for seconds and thirds, and the irony of the situation, when it was once in another lifetime absolutely atrocious, is hilarious.

A while later, when the six of them are playing cards at the picnic bench, Chie speaks up. “Hey, weren’t we gonna play some kind of game?”

“A game?” Yosuke asks, lost. 

Kanji mirrors his expression. “Aren’t we already playin’ one?”

Saki claps her hands together. “Oh, that’s right! I had suggested to Souji-kun and the girls that we play some sort of party game with a bunch of our friends.”

“Who’s all comin’?” Kanji asks. 

“Ai’s in,” Souji replies. 

“My brother, too!” Saki adds. 

“We can ask Kou and Daisuke, partner," Yosuke says.

“I know these two very sweet girls from our band and drama clubs," Yukiko says. “Their parents are big supporters of the inn. I can ask them.”

“Oh, who are they?” Saki asks. 

“Ayane Matsunaga from band and Yumi Ozawa from drama.”

Funny, Souji had never heard of them before in the last timeline. Then again, he had only been involved in Daisuke’s soccer club.

“Sure,” Saki says. “Let’s invite them too!”

Souji takes out his phone and texts Ai. 

Souji Seta - 16:37
> Come meet us at our group. We’re on the west side. 

Ai - 16:38
> what for

Souji Seta - 16:38
> The party game we talked about yesterday, remember?

Ai - 16:39
> ohhhhh yea

Ai - 16:39
> coming

Eventually, they’ve got a whole pack of people, two of which Souji is introduced to. He can’t say for sure what kind of game they’ll be playing, but Yumi seems like she’ll be alright with whatever. Ayane is a different story. She reminds him too much of Nanako. 

“We should probably do this somewhere else unless King Moron comes to tell us off,” Chie suggests.

The sun won’t be setting for a few more hours, so the edge of the forest is what’s picked. 

“So,” Naoki asks as the group all settle down onto the grass, “what are we playing?” 

“Any suggestions?” Saki asks. 

Ayane speaks up. “How about a game called telephone? One person makes up a sentence, then whispers it to another, and then that person whispers it to another, and so on. And at the end, we see if the original sentence stayed the same…” She giggles. “Or if there were any variations.”

Yukiko grins. “Sure, that sounds fun!” 

Kou taps his hands to his thighs in anticipation. “Let’s get started then.”

“Okay, I’ll start,” Ayane says.

She leans in to whisper to Saki. Saki nods and whispers to Kanji, who whispers to Ai, who giggles and whispers to Kou, and so on.

Eventually, Yosuke’s lips are moving right next to Souji’s ear. “I know a plane caught him and realized a boxing city and not her country.”

Souji huffs out a small laugh—ear tingling from where Yosuke’s mouth once was—then whispers the same to Yumi. Daisuke is the last one to hear, and once Yukiko finishes whispering to him, Ayane tells him to say the sentence out loud.

Daisuke announces it like it’s breaking news. “Not a plane called him and realized that a boxing city ended up in a country.”

The group share a laugh while Ayane shakes her head in amusement. “The sentence was: ‘I know a place called Harlem that resides in a big, bustling city in another country’.”

Kou—warily glancing at Ai who scoots closer to him with each passing second—sighs. “Wow, we were way off.”

The game continues. After a few sentences, when it’s finally Ai’s turn to start, she says something that makes Kou sputter. Souji wouldn’t be surprised if it was a tactic just to get him nervous. Chie whispers to Yosuke, which makes him sputter as well. 

“Th-That’s…!” Yosuke exclaims. He scrubs his ear off as if it would make the words come out. 

Chie crosses her arms. “Hey, I didn’t want to say it either!”

“Ugh, fine, fine…” Yosuke mutters. He pulls Souji in. “Um, the sentence is: ‘If w-we were alone, I’d sit-‘“ He pauses and coughs. “‘Sitinyourlap!’” 

Well… I’d certainly like that, Souji thinks, sending thousands of mental thank-yous to Ai for letting that most likely be the only time he’d ever hear that from Yosuke.

Souji scratches the back of his head and leans closer to Yosuke. “Take me to dinner first?”

“Sh-Shut up, dude!” Yosuke hisses, blushing furiously and crossing his arms like Chie.

Souji whispers to Yumi, who just thinks that statement is funny. She whispers to Naoki, who thinks it’s less funny. Kanji is the last to hear. Poor guy. He looks absolutely lost.

“Uhh,” Kanji begins. “‘If we could atone, shit on my lap’?” 

Ai huffs out a very exaggerated sigh. “You guys are hopeless. It was: ‘If we were alone, I’d sit in your lap’.” 

“Obviously the variations didn’t start near us, then…” Yosuke grumbles. “I’m gonna have nightmares about that, Chie.”

“And you think I’m not?!” Chie yells, which just starts an argument between the two. 

“Dude,” Daisuke says amongst the bickering. He tries hard not to smile as he shares a look with Kou. “What about Souji, who had to hear that too?” 

“Oh, yeah. That must have been awful for you, Souji,” Kou says, snickering between words. “I would have vomited on the spot.”

What the hell’s up with those two? 

Ayane, on the other hand, looks confused. “Why would he do that…? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Uh,” Kou says, looking as confused as her now, “Ayane-chan, what you just said doesn’t make sense.”

“What? But, aren’t they-“ Ayane says, then stops abruptly. She looks right at Souji. “Oh! Oh, I get it. Yes, I perhaps would have been sick too.”

Souji doesn’t understand what’s going on at all, and apparently neither do Chie and Yosuke, too absorbed in their fight. Naoki eyes Souji intensely; his sister copies the look. Ai, Yumi, and Yukiko are too taken with the fight happening, and Kanji’s just pulling grass out of the ground, avoiding everyone’s eyes. Though if Souji looks close enough, he swears he can see a hint of blush on his downturned face. 

Ayane quickly moves the conversation on from there, as if eager to never speak of it again. Daisuke and Kou still throw each other glances every so often, which causes the hair on the back of Souji’s neck to stand on end. It’s like watching a goddamn Midnight Channel show! They go around the circle until every person has had a turn to start a sentence, though none hold even a candle to Ai’s raunchy words. Ayane and Yumi recommend that Souji join their clubs, which he considers, but wonders when the hell he would have any time to actually attend, what with all the current tasks on his plate.

Like before, Kanji munches on animal crackers that night in his, Souji, and Yosuke’s shared tent. Yet this time, Yukiko and Chie had managed to room with Saki instead of Hanako, much to their relief at having a quiet evening. Poor Hanako. Hopefully she’s having a nice evening, too.

Please don’t say anything mean to Kanji, Souji thinks, channeling any telepathy that could possibly exist to Yosuke. The day had been going so well. Thankfully, he doesn’t, and a few minutes later, Kanji rolls over and goes to sleep. The roar of snoring begins almost immediately.

“Hey, partner,” Yosuke says, turning on his side to face him. “What, uh… what do you think of Kanji?”

Jesus. He should have known it was too good to be true. And really, talking behind his back like this is even worse than saying it straight to his face. What is Yosuke’s problem with this stuff?

“I like him,” Souji replies. He stares up at the ceiling of the tent. “He’s been a good friend to all of us.”

“That’s not what I-“

Souji cuts him off. “I know that’s not what you meant, but truthfully? I don’t want to hear it.” He turns to face Yosuke in the dim lighting. “Yosuke, please just leave him alone. He’s been through so much. Think about what it would feel like if someone brought up your insecurities every two seconds. Not fun, right?”

Yosuke stiffens. “B-But…”

“But what?” Souji gripes. Maybe if he slaps a bright red sign on his back that says I’M GAY, Yosuke will shut his mouth for once. “Is it that difficult to just be nice?”

Yosuke’s eyes fall. “I… okay. Maybe you’re right…”

He doesn’t sound so sure in his answer, but doesn’t bring it up again nonetheless. 

“Goodnight, Yosuke,” Souji says after a few minutes of silence. He pulls his blanket tighter around himself. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah. Sweet dreams, partner.”

**

He’s in some kind of large, open room. There is absolutely nothing in this room. Black curtains surround him from each side, and a long stretch of floor occupies the space within them. The floor pattern consists of moving red and black lines, exactly like those in the TV world. He immediately grows dizzy just by looking at it, but somehow, it seems familiar.

Souji walks to the nearest curtain and pulls it open, only to be greeted with another stretch of floor boxed in by curtains. He looks all around the room. Sometimes it’s hard to turn his neck or move on his legs; sometimes it feels like his limbs are encased in a thick substance. It’s cold in here. So, so cold. There isn’t any feeling in his nerve endings. He tries to touch his face—fingers moving like molasses in his peripheral—but when they connect with his cheek, he can’t feel a thing. A loud, intermittent noise roars in the distance. He strains his ears. It sounds like a rolling wave. He closes his eyes and listens again; Saki waves to him in the darkness behind his eyelids. 

He opens his eyes and attempts to walk. His footsteps are extremely loud, echoing within the room ominously. A faint, girlish laugh rings from somewhere. Rise. He turns around and pulls back the curtain from which he had just entered from. Namatame is standing in the middle of the room. Half of his body is obscured by shadows.

“You can’t… touch me…” Namatame says in a distorted voice, smoothing his shirt collar.

Souji glances away, then looks back. There is a different figure there now. They wear a red button up and dark pants, but their face and hair are too difficult to make out. No matter how hard he looks, he can’t figure out what exactly he’s looking at—where it begins and where it ends—and when they speak, he feels like he’s heard the voice from somewhere, even though it is distorted. 

“You can’t… see me…” the figure says. It puts a hand to either side of its head, looks up to the ceiling, and laughs wickedly.

Souji can’t comprehend the situation — can’t remember why he’s here, how he got here, or what he should be doing. He tries to speak, but his lips won’t move, like they’re cemented together. He looks away, then back again.

He’s standing there—himself—eyes golden and piercing. A Shadow. 

The Shadow smiles wickedly, teeth glinting in the dark lighting. It chuckles slowly. Sometimes it sounds like crying, too. “I belong here… This is where… I should be.” 

The Shadow points at itself and laughs even harder. Souji looks away and back again. The laughing stops.

Rise is there. One side of her lips pulls at a frown; the other tilts up in a smile. She lifts three fingers to her lips and covers her mouth. “Will you… kill me…?”

Away and back again. Naoto. 

“How about… me…?” she asks. 

Away and back again. Nanako. Nanako.

“I saw him… with you…” Nanako says, pointing straight at him. Souji looks closer. She doesn’t have any pupils. “The killer…”

I need to get out of here, Souji thinks, but can’t will his legs to move. I shouldn’t be here.

Namatame materializes behind Nanako, holding her close like he did that day in Heaven. “You will… stay here… with us…” He smiles, then lets go of Nanako. Souji tries to reach out to her and fails. She disappears. Namatame walks toward Souji with one arm outstretched. “You’re… safe here… Souji-kun…”

Souji’s legs finally break from their lock. He takes several steps back; Namatame dissolves in front of his eyes, right before he can lay his hands on him. He turns around and pulls aside the curtain to the next room. Nothing is there except for a pyramid of CRT TVs. The sound of the waves has grown louder. He opens the next curtain. A river of blood cuts through the floor. 

Yosuke is standing there. 

“Partner,” Souji says, surprised by his own voice. 

Yosuke turns around. He’s wearing a shirt Souji recognizes from his childhood—a gray hoodie with striped-sleeves cut short—although it’s been fitted to Yosuke’s size. Yosuke slowly inclines his head in Souji’s direction. Souji turns around. A desk has appeared behind him. 

I need to sit here, he thinks. I feel the need to sit here.

He sits and smiles at Yosuke. Yosuke turns back to the river. 

“Partner…?” Souji asks. 

Yosuke turns around. There is a knife in the side of his neck — his own kunai. He’s bleeding from the wound profusely. It drenches Souji’s childhood shirt. 

“You can’t… call me that…” Yosuke says, pulling the kunai out. He sticks it in his chest instead and smiles. The blood spills onto the floor and into the river. 

“Y-Yosuke…?” 

Yosuke pulls out the kunai and inches toward him. “Next…”

I can’t be here anymore. I have to leave. 

Souji rises from the desk on shaky legs that feel far too big for his own body. “S-Stop it.”

He looks away, then back again. His Shadow is there, walking with the kunai. It laughs and slings blood from the blade in all directions. “YOU WILL… STAY HERE… WITH US…!”

A bright spotlight suddenly glares in Souji’s eyes as his Shadow runs at him. Souji bolts. He tries to jump over the river and head toward the next curtain. He doesn’t manage the jump completely. There’s blood on his shoes now — all over the floor. 

I can’t be here anymore. I have to get out!

“Souji.”

“Ah!” Souji screams. He stops dead in his tracks. In fact, he can’t move at all. Ice-cold nails dig into his shoulders from behind. “M-Mother…?”

“Be a good boy…” Reiko whispers, “and run away… okay?”

Reiko pushes him forward. Souji runs and runs and runs like his life depends on it. He doesn’t look back; not even once. He pulls open the next curtain. No one is there. His Shadow continues to laugh behind him. The eerie sound draws closer with each passing second. He runs to the next curtain and pulls it open, then the next one, and the next one. He does this for so long—pulling black curtains aside in barren rooms—that it feels like an eternity. And maybe it has been an eternity. 

He opens the next curtain and stops dead once more. Dozens of feet below, there is a vast, angry sea — thunderous waves crashing from all sides. He closes the curtain. Where is his Shadow? He closes his eyes, then opens them. His Shadow is there. It lunges at him, knocks his head into the curtain. Souji’s head meets the floor with a sickening crack. Licks of waves graze the back of his head; they ring through his ears clear as day. The Shadow puts one firm hand on his shoulder and the other in front of his face. It shows him its hand palm side-up, closes it into a fist, then opens it. There is a long gash across its hand now. Drops of blood spill onto Souji’s cheeks, his hair, his eyes. He can’t do anything. He can’t move.

Powerless. Powerless. Powerless.

The Shadow laughs again. The distortion of it, coupled with the sea, makes his ears ring and ring and ring. “Blood… on your… hands! Blood… on your… ha… haha… haaaaaaandsssss…”

I can’t be here anymore. I can’t be here anymore. I can’t be here anymore!

“Y-Yosuke!” Souji shouts, trying so hard to move, but it’s useless. “Yosuke…!”

The Shadow’s chilling laughter quickly overshadows the sound of the waves. It smears its bloodied hand all over Souji’s face and muffles his voice.

“Mmph, partner! Yosuke, h-help me! Yosuke, Yos-“

**

“Yosuke… Y-Yosuke…”

“Shhh. You’re okay, Souji,” he hears Yosuke mutter, but the voice isn’t distorted anymore. “I promise you’re okay.”

Souji opens his eyes. “Yos… Yosuke…?”

“I’m right here. It’s okay. You were just having a nightmare.”

A nightmare… Souji thinks. A nightmare, that’s right. 

There’s a warm sensation on one of Souji’s shoulders, and another one on the side of his neck, right by his ear. He reaches out to touch them and realizes they are Yosuke’s hands. He takes one and holds it palm out in front of his face—inspecting it—but there is no blood on it. He looks up only to find Yosuke looking down at him — all concerned eyes, not at all golden. In the background, Kanji snores very, very loudly, much like the ocean in his nightmare. And Yosuke—Christ—he has his hands on him, like he’s a two year old. 

“I’m sorry…” Souji says, voice thick. 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Yosuke assures, holding him closer. It’s the most embarrassed and simultaneously the most comfortable Souji’s ever felt in his life. “If you want to talk about anything with me, you can.”

“I just…” Souji trails off. How do you even begin to explain a dream like that? “Do you remember when you said you wondered why I didn’t have a Shadow? Well, I… I think about that a lot too.” He pauses. “I was in this place—this really weird, offsetting place—with a bunch of curtains in empty rooms. And I saw people I knew, like you, and Nanako, a-and my mother… And then I saw myself… with those eyes.”

Yosuke rubs Souji’s back. “What eyes?”

“Golden eyes.”

“Oh.” Yosuke falters in his caresses for a moment. “If… If it’s about what I said earlier—before we went to sleep—I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s not your fault. I just get nightmares a lot.”

Souji wonders if his nightmares can even come close to plaguing him when Yosuke’s handling him with such care and affection. 

“You do?”

“Yes.”

Yosuke sighs deeply. He runs his fingers through Souji's hair a few times. Souji thinks it’s the greatest feeling in the world. “If there’s something I can do to help, please let me know.”

Souji shifts to get more comfortable, feeling sleep pull at his senses once more. “This is more than enough.”

Yosuke hums, pulls him closer, and lays his head on top of Souji’s own. “Okay, partner.”

June 18, 2011

The next day, the group find themselves at the river that crosses through the campsite, no heaving King Morons in sight. Souji searches the water twice over for any possible streaks of blood. Nothing. All that remains is Chie’s wild dodges as Yosuke and Saki splash her, and the sight of Yukiko and Kanji attempting to catch a large frog from the other side of the river. 

“Get in, Souji-kun!” Chie yells over the waterfall. “The water won’t bite!”

“One second,” Souji says, slipping into the water from the mossy rock he had been standing on. It’s freezing. He immediately wraps his arms around himself, trying to avoid getting any more water on areas of his body that haven't been submerged yet. It’s a useless effort, as Chie pulls him further the moment he’s in. “Wait, Chie!” 

Soon enough, he’s being subjected to Yosuke, Saki, and now Chie’s water war. Yukiko and Kanji ask him to catch the frog shortly after. 

Souji shakes his head vigorously. “I don’t want to touch it, sorry.”

Yukiko frowns. “But we’re not fast enough to catch it.”

She tries and fails again to snatch it up, stumbling like a madman across the slick grass. Kanji tries as well, but to no avail. As they sink back into the river after their defeat, a large wave of water hits the three in the back of the head. Kanji immediately goes on a rampage. 

“Ya better get back here, dammit!” Kanji yells at the others, sloshing his way through the river to them. 

By the time Souji—reluctantly—catches the frog, Kanji’s being mercilessly dunked under the waterfall by Chie and Yosuke. Saki laughs and splashes him with water every time the two let him come up for air. Well, at least they’re together in their torment. Even so, Souji can’t say he’s too unhappy with the situation — not when his friends’ warm laughter makes him forget about the freezing water entirely.

Later on, when Yukiko has accidentally touched Saki’s breast during a game of Marco Polo—which had led to a laughing fit from the former, and a stony silence from Chie—Kanji joins Souji on the rocks as he watches his friends swim around. 

“Hey, Senpai,” Kanji says, settling down beside him and draping his sports jacket over his wet t-shirt. 

“Hey, Kanji,” Souji says. He smiles as Yosuke hoists Yukiko on his shoulders—Saki on Chie’s own—then proceeds to a round of chicken fight. “Having a good time?”

“Sure am! Just wanted to take a breather is all.”

Yukiko pushes Saki off of Chie’s shoulders, and she and Yosuke shout in victory. However, she and Yosuke go under in the next instant, and a few moments later, Saki rises out of the water with a shit-eating grin. She gives Chie a high five as the two watch their friends helplessly flail around. 

“Man, those guys’re really something…” Kanji comments. Souji hums in agreement. “So last night, I heard you ‘n Yosuke-senpai talkin’ about a nightmare. Well, saw, more like. Anyways, I wanted to tell you about this medication I used to take for nightm-“

“You were awake?!” Souji cuts through Kanji’s speech. If there’s anything more embarrassing than Yosuke coddling him like a kid, it is Kanji of all people seeing Yosuke do that to him. “But you were snoring!”

“Yeah, well… I didn’t want you to think I was awake and couldn’t talk to him, could I? Like I was sayin’-“

“Don’t, just…” Souji cuts him off again, digging his nails into his own kneecaps painfully. “Don’t mention that to anyone, please.”

“Dude, I’m not gonna out you. Calm down. So-“

“Out me?! I’m… I’m not-“

Kanji cuts him off this time. “Senpai, calm down. I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. Bad choice of words.”

Souji exhales shakily. “R-Right… I’m sorry. Dammit.” He clenches a fist against the rocks and closes his eyes. The only sound he’s able to hear is Yosuke’s laughter. How poetic. “This isn’t fair, Kanji. Just give me a minute.”

“Y-Yeah, sure thing…” Kanji says, confusion evident in his voice. 

What the hell is wrong with him? He’s acting just like Yosuke, freaking out at the slightest implication that he’s anything other than straight-as-an-arrow, which, hey! He’s not! That arrow has been bent out of shape for years now, Seta! And he knows this full-well! He grips the rocks beneath him tighter.

If anyone is owed an apology—a confession, a serious, honest-to-God conversation where no one is skirting around truths—it’s Kanji Tatsumi. So what if he dreamt of Shadows hidden behind curtains, and so what if Kanji was awake to hear about it? So what if Yosuke is mere feet away, being dunked mercilessly underwater by Yukiko? So what? Yosuke still looks like a painting that belongs in the damn Louvre to him, and Kanji is still one of the first people in his life to genuinely give a shit about him. 

So, that’s why Souji lifts his head now and looks Kanji straight in the eyes. “Do you remember the night when you were kidnapped, and… and you asked me if Yosuke and I were dating?”

Kanji blushes. “Yeah, uh-huh.”

Souji takes a deep breath. “Well, we’re not, but I wish we were. Very much so.”

Kanji glances at Yosuke, rubs his neck, then looks back at Souji. “You… you do?” Souji nods. “Well, you know… I think Yosuke-senpai feels the same way.”

“There’s no way,” Souji immediately counters. “Haven’t you seen how he acts any time the topic of being gay is brought up?”

“Um, Souji-senpai… not to be mean, but you just acted the same way he does. Whaddya think that means?”

What does he think that means? Hell if he knows. Yosuke puts his foot in his mouth near hourly, and Souji… well. He doesn’t think there’s ever been a time where guilt hasn’t eaten away at his heart, where repression hasn’t been the default every time that same heart says he loves Yosuke a little more.

“I’m sorry about how I acted.”

Kanji snorts. “Heh, ‘s cool. Don’t sweat it.”

A brief silence lingers in the air, then Souji says, “Um, so if I wasn’t clear enough, I’m… I’m…” Another deep breath. “Gay. And this is the first time I’ve ever come out to someone.”

Kanji gives him a hard pat on the back. “I’m proud of ya, Senpai. Thanks for trustin’ me.” He sends Souji a big smile. “Guess we’re just a couple’a not-straight guys on a rock.”

Souji laughs. “I guess we are. And I don’t think I said it, but I’m proud of what you said on the rooftop the other day too.”

“Yeah, well…” Kanji mutters, smile growing sheepish. “Are you gonna let me tell you ‘bout that medication now?”

Souji finally listens to Kanji’s speech in its entirety, and honestly, it’s not a bad recommendation. “I’ll consider it. Thanks, Kanji.”

Kanji pats him on the back once more. “Well, ‘m gonna try and get some sun. Ma says I’ve been spendin’ too much time indoors. But I think your boyfriend’s waiting for you to get on his shoulders.”

“Kanji!” Souji laughs and playfully hits his shoulder, but true to Kanji’s statement, Yosuke is waving him over with an expectant look.

“Go on,” Kanji says, taking off his jacket and creating a makeshift pillow on the rocks.

Souji ignores Kanji’s pointed stare as he climbs onto Yosuke’s shoulders, ignores him even harder when he places his hands in Yosuke’s hair to keep balance and Yosuke grips his thighs tightly. 

June 19, 2011

In the Velvet Room the next day—as Souji’s fusing Sun Personas and marveling at the experience they had never gotten before—Igor speaks to him. 

“What are your thoughts on our new curtains?”

Souji’s stomach pools with dread at the word “curtains”, but surely it’s just a coincidence. He warily looks at Igor — all crooked-smile and hands folded on the table. It is very uncommon for him to speak to Souji unless he had asked a question or was just entering, so why—on the rare instance—does he ask something so weird? Souji averts his gaze to the curtains when Igor’s stare becomes too much. They’re definitely a different shade. 

“You made them light blue?” Souji asks. Igor continues to stare at him in silence. “Well, they’re… nice, I suppose. They go with the lighting.”

Igor taps his foot once in response. Souji looks to Margaret. She’s gracefully perusing the compendium, seemingly oblivious to the uncomfortable conversation. That is, if you can even call it one. He notices—with a lurch in his gut—that the stiff atmosphere in the Velvet Room is not unlike the one in his nightmare. 

“Is there any guidance you can give me on saving Mr. Morooka?” Souji asks her, partly because he needs it, and partly to get out of the awkward situation he’s found himself in. 

Margaret flips a page. “I’m afraid I don’t know the solution to the predicament that soon awaits you.”

“Nothing? At all?”

Margaret closes the book and stares at the cover. “Souji Seta, sometimes I wonder if there was ever a time where my eyes were not golden, but alas, I come up with nothing.” She smirks, red lipstick suddenly too bright in the blue room. “This is your journey, and yours alone.”

Well, he knows that much, thanks. What he doesn’t know is how to make sure his homeroom teacher doesn’t get himself murdered. Souji hadn’t fulfilled all of Margaret’s requests in the last timeline, and he wonders if she remembers that. It seems that the two’s knowledge of the past timeline is very selective, judging from the times he had asked them about it. Nonetheless, he might as well keep on fusing random combinations for her. 

“Then,” Souji says, ignoring how the teal of the curtains is starting to give him a headache, “do you have another request for me?”

Igor flips a tarot card over: The Star, reversed.

Margaret winks. “A Neko Shogun with Bufula.”

**

Souji walks through the front door of the Dojima Residence that night after having fulfilled some requests for the fox, only to hear Rise’s voice coming through the television screen. Nanako watches her every word intently. 

“No, my health isn’t an issue…”

Soon enough, Inoue is telling off reporters and escorting Rise out of the conference room. Souji can’t help but stare at the forlorn expression crossing his friend’s face. 

Nanako mirrors her expression. “Do you think Rise-chan will be okay, Big Bro?”

“Rise’s strong,” Souji replies, sitting down on a cushion by the table. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Dojima takes a swig of his drink, then fixes Souji with one of those looks: the type that means he smells suspicion in the air. “It’s strange, isn’t it? This town used to be so quiet, and now suddenly it’s all the media can talk about.”

Chie’s question from a few days ago regarding Ms. Yamano rings through his head. “Does this mean she wasn’t that well known until the incident?”. Inaba itself wasn’t well known until Ms. Yamano was murdered, and like Dojima just said, now it’s talked about seemingly everywhere. Everything all at once… happening in a tiny little coal mining town. So, what is it about Inaba? What was it once like, and was the TV world ever different, too? What is the correlation between them?

Souji looks at Dojima. “I wonder why that is…”

Souji can’t really blame his uncle for being so uptight. He had already lost his wife to a hit and run; a nephew or daughter getting themselves killed would probably be the end of the man. Dojima looks deep in thought now, but his demeanor pales in comparison to what it once was the night Nanako was kidnapped. It would be best that Dojima avoid seeing him warn Rise in a few days. His uncle doesn’t need any more unnecessary stress on his shoulders about the nephew he had been burdened with for a year. 

Later—when Nanako has gone to bed—he and Dojima sit on the bench together in the backyard. A cigarette rests between his uncle’s lips; the smoke drifts easily into the night sky.

“Do you ever talk to her about things other than me?” Souji asks. “My mother, I mean.”

“Honestly, Souji,” Dojima says, “me and my sister haven’t talked properly in years. It’s sad, but it’s the truth. Guess it’s partly my fault—being so wrapped up in Chisato’s death and what-not—but your mother isn’t exactly the warmest person I’ve ever met. She won’t call anybody for a mere catch-up. Nah, that’s not Rei.”

Souji huffs out a bitter laugh. “Yeah.”

“Why do you ask?” 

Souji absently watches the smoke curl around one of his wrists, and really, he hates the smell of it — acrid and suffocating. The very moment he had moved to Inaba, the scent ingrained itself into his clothes, his belongings, everything about him, forevermore. He doesn’t know how his friends don’t recoil when they get too close to him. But nonetheless, it’s something that makes him him, right?

“I guess I’m just curious about my family is all. The only members I’ve ever known are you, Nanako, and my parents.”

Dojima flicks ash off himself. “Makes sense. Me and Reiko only knew our grandparents on both sides, anyways. Wanna know something crazy?” Souji nods. “Reiko and I used to be pretty close growing up.”

Souji raises his eyebrows. “Seriously? That’s unexpected.”

Dojima laughs. “You sure know how to lay it on thick, kid. I wasn’t all bad. But yeah, we liked each other a bit back then. Guess we grew out of that pretty quickly though, huh?”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Uncle,” Souji says, but he’s honestly not sure how much he means it. 

Dojima exhales another line of smoke. “That’s just how it is.”

That’s just how it is… Souji thinks grimly. Ironic how he had said the same exact thing to Yosuke just the other day, and he and Dojima had both said it regarding the same person. What had Yosuke told him? Oh, that’s right.

“But it shouldn’t be,” Souji says.

Dojima smiles sadly. “No, it shouldn’t be.”

June 20, 2011

“Did you see Rise Kujikawa on the news last night?” Souji asks his friends, who are currently gathered in his homeroom. 

“Rise Kujikawa? Oh, you mean Risette!” Yosuke says, eyes lighting up. “I’m not surprised you know who she is, being from the city and all.”

“Risette?” Chie asks. “She used to live here, you know. And it looks like she’s coming back.”

Yosuke’s eyes grow even wider. “Rise-san used to live here?!”

Yukiko nods. “Mhm. Her grandma runs a tofu shop next to Saki-senpai and Kanji-kun’s own businesses. Marukyu Tofu.”

“Yes, that tofu is wonderful," Saki says. “Naoki and I are regulars there. We’re on good terms with Rise-chan’s grandma.”

“You are?” Souji asks. That would likely make talking to Rise even easier. 

Saki nods, then giggles. “Why, Souji-kun? Are you interested in her?” 

“No. I’m just wondering if she might be the next victim since she fits the profile.”

“Holy crap, you’re right, partner!” Yosuke shouts. “She’s been interviewed, she’s popular, and she’s becoming the talk of the town. It all fits!”

“And she’ll be movin’ back to Inaba soon,” Kanji supplies. 

Chie looks very troubled. “So… Rise-chan might be kidnapped?”

Yukiko frowns. “This is terrible. Isn’t there something we can do?”

Souji knows deep down in his heart that Rise will be kidnapped, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t at least go talk to her beforehand. “Senpai said she knows Rise’s grandma personally. Maybe we can use that to our advantage to talk to her at the shop.” 

“Sounds like a good plan,” Yosuke agrees. The rest of the group joins him in their affirmations. 

“We’ll have to make sure she appears on the Midnight Channel first,” Souji says. “It’s supposed to rain tomorrow night, according to the forecast, so let’s keep an eye out.” They all agree to watch tomorrow night, then split off into their respective classrooms. Souji grabs Yosuke’s sleeve before he can sit down. “Hey… isn’t it your birthday on the 22nd?”

“Uh, yeah. It is. But how do you know that? I didn’t tell you my birthday.”

“Chie told me,” Souji says, which isn’t a lie. She had told him when Yosuke’s birthday was in the last timeline when he had asked, which unfortunately had been late in the year, meaning his birthday had already passed. Souji had made sure to ask her again in this timeline for integrity’s sake. 

“Ugh,” Yosuke groans, glaring at Chie. She doesn’t pay any attention to him, too engrossed with talking to Yukiko. “I’ll get her one day.”

Souji smiles. “Come on, let’s celebrate it. You only turn seventeen once.”

Or twice, if you can manipulate time like me.

Yosuke twirls his headphone cord around his index finger. “Fine, but I want it to just be me and you. I don’t like huge parties.”

“Okay,” Souji agrees, heart beating faster knowing Yosuke only wants to celebrate with him. Mr. Morooka walks into the classroom then and immediately starts to scream at students, as if he hadn’t done enough of it on the camping trip. “We’ll plan it later.”

**

Shu’s mother is going off about her son again, and it’s making Souji’s head hurt. It’s all “I want, I want, I want” from her, and not at all what Shu actually wants. It takes everything within Souji to not snap at her, to not wipe the faux smile from her face and tell her to take a good, hard look at her son — lonely and withering under stress. He can’t tell what is worse: the negligence of Shu’s mother—meticulously hidden under the guise of pride and praise—or his own mother’s outright abuse, veiled by nothing. 

“You once asked me if I knew what raison d’etre was,” Souji says to Shu once his mother finally leaves the room. “So, what’s yours?”

Shu stares blankly at him. It’s like looking in a mirror. “Well, to get into a good college, of course. Make the highest grades, get a well-paying jo-“

Souji shakes his head. “Not your mother’s. Yours.”

“Well… what about yours?”

“Don’t deflect the question.”

“No, I’m serious.”

Souji sighs. Truthfully, there are only two goals in his mind right now: to find out the truth of this case, and to make sure his loved ones are happy. Only one of those can he share with the burnt-out kid sitting across from him. “To make sure those who I care about are happy.”

“Is that what you want forever?” Shu asks without missing a beat. 

“Well, yeah. It is,” Souji says. If everyone wants him forever, that is. “I want to hear yours now.”

Shu shrugs and pushes up his glasses. “That’s really what it was.”

“You can’t live off your mother’s dream for the rest of your life…”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

Souji sees red, and he sees himself, too. Was there ever a time when the boy across from him was genuinely happy, or was it all work and no play from the very beginning? What an infuriating, degrading ideology it is to project the insecurities and failures of oneself onto a child, leaving them miserable forevermore.

“I have an idea,” Souji says. He pulls Shu’s notebook over to him and begins to write.

“What are you doing?”

Souji puts the pencil down. “I’ve written you an outline. I want you to make a list of some things that you want to do in life—that you genuinely want to do—and we’ll read it together during the next session.”

Shu looks over the outline. “What’s this supposed to accomplish?”

“Sometimes it’s refreshing to write out your thoughts,” Souji says. Shu looks troubled — all over a mere list. Souji wonders how people don’t see how much they’ve fucked up their children. “Honestly, this might be the hardest thing I’ve ever had you do.”

Shu cracks a smile at that. “Yeah, I think so too.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Souji says. “Think about what you want from life, just like you would with a math problem, alright?”

Shu nods. “I’ll try my best.”

**

“What’s up, partner?”  

Souji idly watches the news on his bedroom TV that night as he listens to Yosuke speak over the phone. Nothing he doesn't already know. “I wanted to talk about your birthday.”

“Right…”

“Anything specific you want to do?”

“Honestly, not really.”

Souji turns off the TV and crashes onto the futon. “Come on, there must be something.”

“I’m serious. There’s nothing. I just… don’t really ever make a big deal out of my birthday.”

“Well, hm…” Souji trails off as he thinks. “Where do you like to go in Inaba the most?”

“Umm, the Samegawa? Maybe?”

“Then we’ll go there.”

“B-But we don’t have to, or anything.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll make you some food, too. What do you want?”

“Dude, this is way too much…”

Souji frowns. “No it isn’t. This is a lot less than we could’ve done if it was a Sunday. Like go out of town.”

“Th-That’s… okay, fine. We can go to the river. You can make whatever, just not fish, please.”

Souji laughs. “Yeah, I know. I’ll surprise you.”

“Thanks, partner.”

June 22, 2011

After Rise shows up on the Midnight Channel on the 21st, Souji, Yosuke, Kanji, and Saki make their way over to Marukyu to talk to her. Like last time, Adachi conducts traffic patrol outside the shop, and Dojima can be heard from somewhere nearby yelling at people to stand back. Kanji scares Adachi off, Dojima chases after him, and they find Rise hunched over the sink inside moments later. Souji’s heart aches for her.

“Saki-senpai…” Souji mutters, “why don’t you try talking to her first?”

“Sure thing.” Saki confidently walks up to the register. “Excuse me? Rise-chan?”

“Hello…” Rise mumbles, turning around. Her eyes light up when she sees Saki. “Oh! You’re Saki, right?”

“Mhm. It’s been a long time, Rise-chan!”

Rise smiles a bit. “Yeah. I’m glad to see you again. Grandma tells me you and Naoki come around a lot. Hey, how’s the liquor st-“ She trails off as she notices the rest of them. “Saki-chan, are these your friends?”

Yosuke nods, practically bursting at the seams. “We came to talk to you!”

Rise’s smile turns sympathetic. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do autographs right now since I’m working.”

“That’s not it,” Kanji says, inconspicuously eyeing the tofu stand next to him. 

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Do you know what the Midnight Channel is?” Souji asks. Might as well just get it over with. 

Rise sighs and leans against the counter. “Yeah. You saw me on there, right? Don’t worry. That girl wasn’t me.”

“Rise-san… we’ve noticed that people who appear on that channel get kidnapped.”

Saki nods solemnly. “It’s true. Kanji-kun and I appeared on the Midnight Channel, and we were kidnapped. Well, I think I was kidnapped. I don’t remember.”

Rise looks at Saki with concerned eyes. “You… you were kidnapped?”

“I don’t know for sure.”

“So,” Yosuke says, “what we’re getting at is that you fit the profile as the next victim, Rise-san.”

“You think so?” Rise asks, but like last time, she doesn’t seem too convinced by their words. “Well, I’ll be sure to be more careful then.”

They buy some ganmodoki, Rise throws in extra tofu again as thanks, then they make their way over to the shrine to snack on their purchases. 

“She didn’t seem to care…” Yosuke comments as he bites into the ganmodoki. 

Saki shrugs. “She’s never really been someone easily swayed.”

Kanji nudges Saki. “Hey, when’s the last time you saw Rise, anyways?” 

“Umm.” Saki bites her lip as she thinks. “Maybe towards the end of middle school?”

Souji licks his thumb clean. “That’s been a long time for you then, being a third-year and all.”

“Yeah… It was good to see her again. We used to play sometimes as kids. Naoki, too.”

A few minutes pass by, nothing but the sound of wrappers rustling and mouths chewing, then Kanji speaks up. “So, what should we do about Rise? I don’t feel right just leavin’ it here.”

Souji doesn’t feel right either, but what else can he do? If they try to do a stakeout again, they’ll likely be faced with the same paparazzi as last time, and that would be a huge waste of time. Plus, Adachi probably wouldn’t even be there to arrest the guy since he and Dojima didn’t see them all with Rise today. And if he was there, then he and Dojima would know how involved Souji is in the case. He'll just have to hope that Rise doesn’t tell Dojima anything if he comes by. It’s true that there’s likely no way Namatame would act if he had seen a group of overly-vigilant teenagers loitering outside Marukyu all day, but that’s not to say he wouldn’t act on another day. No matter how he looks at it, it’s inevitable. So what is he supposed to do?

Everyone is staring at him, waiting for his word. 

Souji sighs. “I have an idea. I’ll stakeout Marukyu tomorrow, but I want to do it by myself. A large group would draw too much attention. If anything happens, I’ll be sure to let everyone know.”

“But… are you sure, partner?” Yosuke asks. “That sounds like it could be dangerous.”

“I’ll be fine. It’ll be broad daylight, and I think you’re forgetting Daidara is right next door.”

“Well, you’re our leader,” Saki says. “I trust your judgment.”

Saki and Kanji depart not long after that, leaving him and Yosuke alone. 

Souji—refraining from throwing his arms around Yosuke and tugging him close—opts for a pat on the back. “Happy birthday, partner.”

Yosuke blushes. “Th-Thanks…”

“You ready to head over?”

“Sure, let’s go.”

About twenty minutes later—after Souji has picked up their meal and the presents from the house—the two settle on the bank of the Samegawa. Oscar bounds over to them not a second later. 

“Hey, boy,” Souji says, petting his head affectionately and laying a few treats on the ground. 

Yosuke gestures to the treat bag. “Do you just carry those things in your pocket 24/7?” 

“Pretty much.”

After eating, Oscar lazily flops next to them in the grass and purrs in content. 

“What a spoiled cat,” Yosuke says, but his fond grin toward the animal says otherwise. 

Souji hands Yosuke a bento. “It’s katsudon. I hope you like it.”

“You already know I’m gonna like anything you make, partner. Man, your future wife is one lucky lady.”

“Wife”. What a beautiful word, but it was never created for him. “Just don’t tell her that I like you more than her.”

Yosuke laughs. “I’m honored. Seriously though, you’ve been in Inaba for a while now. There must be someone you like…?”

“I’m not trying to get married right now, thanks.”

“Come on, you know what I meant. Tokyo, then? Did you have a girlfriend back there?”

“I’ve never dated anyone before,” Souji says, then swallows a whole piece of pork to avoid any more questions. Though, that proves useless. 

“Really, nobody? I find that hard to believe, dude.”

There’s a long stretch of silence before the pork settles in Souji’s stomach and he can speak again. “What’s so hard to believe?”

Yosuke rubs his nose. “I mean… you’re just so good with people. Charismatic. There’s something about you that draws people in. It’s surprising that you’ve never dated before.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

Yosuke scoffs. “Idiot.”

“Idiot…” Souji says, much more fondly. “What about you?”

“Y-You mean if I’ve ever dated anyone?” Yosuke asks. Souji nods. “Uhh, nope. Saki-senpai was my first proper crush in a while, but I’m just now really getting over her since I know for sure she doesn’t feel the same way.”

“I’m sorry,” Souji says. He doesn’t say how much Yosuke and Saki might have in common, both having unrequited feelings for people and all. 

“Nah, it’s fine,” Yosuke replies. He gives Oscar a pat on the head. “That was never gonna happen.”

A moment passes before Souji speaks up again. “Hey, I got you something. A few things, actually.” He rummages around in the bag he put the bento in and pulls out a medium-sized wrapped box. “Here.”

“C-Come on…”

“Just open it.”

Yosuke tears the paper, opens the box, and pulls out a few CDs. He turns the cases over and pores over the tracklists. “I’ve never heard of these bands before. ‘The Police’? ‘Tears for Fears’?”

“They’re English bands. Older, eighties. I know you listen to a lot of foreign music, so I thought you’d like them.”

“I do. Thank you, partner.”

“There’s more. Keep going.”

Yosuke pulls out two capos and a leather music journal. “Thanks, I really needed these. And what’s this?”

“Open it up.”

Yosuke undos the strap binding the journal together and opens it. There’s an inscription in it. He smiles as he reads it to himself.

Partner,

You’ve recently told me you just started to practice the guitar seriously, so I hope this can make it easier for you. This is a music journal that helps in tracking the progress of your practice. I want to hear you play one day, alright? Happy birthday, Yosuke.

Yours,
Souji Seta

Yosuke’s eyes dance as he flips through the book, tracing the ledger lines in anticipation. “This is seriously too much. I-I… I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

Yosuke shakes his head in disbelief. “Just… thank you so much, Souji. I honestly think this is the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received. Thank you.”

Souji’s heart skips. It’s fun to spoil Yosuke like this. Especially when it means he can see that beautiful smile — unguarded and all. “You’re welcome. Happy birthday, again.”

“Hey,” Yosuke says, binding the book back together, “wanna know what Chie got me?”

“What?”

“A stuffed bear spray-painted to look like Teddie.”

Souji stares at him for a split-second, then doubles over himself, hand to his stomach. Yosuke follows, and soon it’s just him, Yosuke, Oscar, and the river, and he can’t think of anything else other than the way the sound of their shared laughter completely overshadows the flowing waters of the Samegawa.

Chapter Text

June 23, 2011

As planned, Souji stakes out Marukyu the next day — “stake” code for reading a book on esotericism while idly licking a blueberry popsicle from Shiroku. It’s not like there’d be any significant events anyway, besides the paparazzi. Rise comes out of the shop one time to take out the trash and spots Souji sitting on the corner of the tofu shop and Daidara.

“Hey,” Rise says, making Souji look up from his book. “What are you doing here?”

Souji leaves his index finger on the line he left off on and says, straight to the point, “I’m worried about you.”

Rise sighs. “I’ve already told you. That girl on TV wasn’t me.”

“How do you know for sure?”

“I’ve never worn that swimsuit before, and the proportions were all off. It must be some kind of computer fabrication. Fear mongering, you know? How do you know for sure that it’s really me?”

Souji grins. She’s always had that assertiveness. “You just fit a pattern. That’s all I have to go on.”

Rise looks behind her at the shop, then turns back to Souji and sits down next to him. She nervously taps her fingernails together. “Umm…”

“I guess I’ve never really introduced myself,” Souji holds out a hand. “Souji Seta.”

Rise offers hers as well. “And you already know mine.” She smiles and gestures to the book. “Can I see that?”

Souji bookmarks his page and hands it to her. 

Rise scrunches her brow up in confusion as she begins to read. “‘This Dweller of the Threshold meets us in many shapes. It is the Cerberus guarding the entrance to Hades; the Dragon which St. Michael is going to kill; the Snake which tempted Eve, and whose head will be crushed by the heel of the woman; the Hobgoblin watching the place where the treasure is buried, etc.’ Hmm, there’s some difficult stuff in here. Is this for a class?”

“No, it’s for personal reading.”

“Really? I can’t imagine wrapping my head around all this,” Rise says, scanning the book. She flips a few pages. “‘The Dweller on the Threshold does not emerge out of the fog of illusion and glamour until the disciple is nearing the Gates of Life. Only when he can catch dim glimpses of the Portal of Initiation and an occasional flash of light from the Angel of the Presence, who stands waiting beside that door, can he come to grips with the principle of duality’…”

Souji fidgets sheepishly. “I don’t really understand a lot of it, truthfully, but the things I can comprehend remind me of something else I’m looking into.”

“I get the Angel, obviously,” Rise says, handing the book back to him. “But what exactly is the Dweller? Is it evil?”

Souji licks at the popsicle, thinking. “From what I understand, essentially, yes. But if I think about it in regards to the other thing I’m studying, then there becomes a gray area.” Rise doesn’t respond. She looks genuinely interested, so he continues. “Well, if you think of the Dweller as a parallel to the Shadow—which is basically all the dark aspects of oneself that they’re not conscious of, or that they repress—then it seems like a yin and yang sort of deal, like the ‘duality’ mentioned in that last sentence. There are counterparts to the two: the Angel and the Persona. But then… why is the Dweller related to creatures like Cerberus or the snake from the Garden of Eden? Is it entirely evil? I can’t say for sure.”

Rise flicks his head and smiles. “You’re really smart. But I like it. So, what’s the Persona?”

Before he can answer, another voice cuts him off. “Souji?”

Souji looks up. Adachi is there. “Oh, Adachi-san… Um, Rise-san, this is Tohru Adachi, my Uncle Dojima’s partner on the force.”

Great, just what the police need to see: me talking to the next kidnapping victim. I just hope he doesn’t say anything to Uncle.

“Oh yeah. I remember you,” Rise says to Adachi. “Dojima-san, too. You two helped at the shop yesterday.”

“Yup!” Adachi says through a grin. “There sure are a lot of people who want to meet you. I can’t imagine how nerve-wracking it must be.”

Rise shrugs. “I’m used to it.” She looks at Souji. “I’d better get back to the shop. See you soon, ‘kay?”

“See you.”

Souji turns to Adachi in Rise’s absence, feeling that familiar awkwardness seep through his skin. It’s not that he doesn’t like the man, honestly. In Souji’s opinion, he’s a funny, loyal guy, but he just has a hard time connecting with him fully compared to his other adult friends. It’s like there’s some kind of barrier.

“What are you doing here?” Adachi asks. He pushes his tie up in an attempt to look professional, although it falls right back down. 

“Reading.” Souji holds up the book. “It’s nicer than sitting inside the house.”

Adachi huffs out a laugh. “Reading. Man, it really sucks that there’s jack to do in Inaba! Makes me miss the city a bit.”

“You must be pretty immersed in the murder case, right? It can’t be so bad.”

“Sure. When Dojima-san’s not yelling at me, that is.”

Souji smiles. “Tough boss.”

“You can say that again, kid.”

The two share a short laugh before Souji speaks again. “What do you miss most about Tokyo?”

Adachi sighs. “It’s kinda strange to say, but the energy. There’s a sort of…” 

“Familiarity to it?” Souji guesses. He doesn’t miss Tokyo—not one bit—but he can’t deny he holds a certain love for getting lost in crowds of people filled with their own stories, while they don’t have a clue about his. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Adachi says. “I always forget you’re a city slicker like me.”

“Inaba’s grown on me though,” Souji says, and he’s sure Adachi overlooks the fondness in his eyes when he speaks of the town — his town. 

“At least someone enjoys it,” Adachi jokes. He looks down at his watch. “Break time’s over. See you around, Souji.”

“Bye, Adachi-san.”

Souji watches until Adachi turns a street, and all too soon, he feels eyes on the back of his head. Sure enough, the paparazzi from last time is just around the corner trying to snap a picture of the tofu shop. There’s no need for worry, though. He turns his attention back to the book.

“The Dweller on the Threshold is oft regarded as a disaster, as a horror to be avoided, and as a final and culminating evil. I would here remind you, nevertheless, that the Dweller is ‘one who stands before the gate of God’… The Dweller on the Threshold is all that man is.”

There’s so much polarity in all of us, Souji thinks, but I guess it’s necessary. 

**

As usual, Yosuke calls him up after seeing Rise’s Shadow on the Midnight Channel, and like before, he’s very flustered. 

“Yosuke, calm down,” Souji says after a while of him rambling. There’s only so much he can take of Yosuke drooling over someone that isn’t him. 

“Right…”

“I found something out about Rise today.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, she came and talked to me while I was sitting outside earlier. She mentioned something about losing sight of her sense of self,” Souji explains, which is a lie, but he’s not going to spend two days gathering information for Teddie when he knows it already. He feels awful for lying to his friends so often, but if it’s beneficial in nature, does it really matter in the end? There was a word she had used today, though… What was it again? “And she said her personality on TV is ‘fabricated’.”

“That’s not much of a surprise. No wonder she took a hiatus… but losing sight of yourself, huh? I can relate to that. Not the TV part, but I just mean… it’s easy to feel pressured to act a certain way. So much so that you forget how you really act.”

Huh… Souji had never really taken the time to reflect on that sentiment all that much—more so just went through the motions—but what Yosuke said makes sense. How often had he behaved a certain way to please his mother? Hadn’t nearly all of his childhood consisted of doing everything his mother wanted, and nothing at all for his own enjoyment? 

“Partner, you there?” Yosuke asks over the line. 

“Sorry, I was just thinking about what you said. I think I can relate, too.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, yeah. You saw how my mother spoke to me on the phone a few weeks ago. I don’t have to spell it out, do I?”

There’s a brief pause, and then, “You know… your mother didn’t follow you to Inaba. What’s stopping you from letting go a bit? I keep thinking about when we rode Dojima-san’s bike together, how happy you were… You looked so peaceful, Souji. It’s not like you have to cater your actions to her at this point in your life.”

Souji doesn’t miss a beat. He’s already thought this out — knows all the variables at play. “But what about when I have to go back? All that time I would have spent here—doing what I wanted, defying her—it wouldn’t mean anything once I got back to Tokyo.”

“It would mean something. Why can’t you just stay here for third year?”

Souji sighs. “It’s not that easy. You don’t get it.”

“Then help me understand.”

“Alright, think about this. There are a lot of parents out there that project themselves onto their children. Often, it ends with those parents having total… control over them. She wants me back in Tokyo just for that reason — for control. Do you get it now? I can’t stay here, no matter how much I want to.”

“Shit, Souji… The hell’s wrong with your folks?” Yosuke asks, and there’s a certain heat to his voice now. One he’s only ever heard within the walls of a hospital. “Look, you won’t be by yourself anymore. You’ll have us. We’re not going to let you deal with that on your own. But I wonder if there’s something I—um, we—can do to ensure your stay next year. Then you would just go to college from there. Or not college. Whatever you wanna do.” 

“I can’t think of anything, but thank you, Yosuke. That means a lot,” Souji says, and it really does, considering how he’s not confident the team would have stayed in contact with him the way he left things last time. 

“I’m sure there’s something. I’ll find a way.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Souji, I want to. For you.”

And now he’s really lost for words in the face of Yosuke’s direct affection. It warms his heart, but taints it with guilt at the same time. He doesn’t deserve someone as sweet as Yosuke doing something so thoughtful for him. There are so many things he wants to say in response, but none of them seem good enough to accurately convey how he feels. 

You’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had. Why are you so good to me? I love you. I’m so glad I met you.

“I’m-I’m glad I met you too, man.”

Shit, did he really say that last one out loud? His heart beats faster at the accidental response, but at least that was the extent of it. It could have been much worse had he accidentally professed his love, and at least he knows Yosuke returns one sentiment out of the two. 

“Let’s get some rest for tomorrow. We’ve got a long day.”

“Sure thing. Goodnight, partner.”

“Sweet dreams, Yosuke.”

Souji knows he won’t be having any. 

June 24, 2011

Teddie’s already sprawled on the ground crying by the time they all arrive in the TV world. Souji’s heart aches for his friend. He had made sure to spend more time in the TV world with the bear this time around, but he can imagine it’s not easy being completely alone the rest of the time. Really, he knows this from experience. He’s just glad Teddie will be able to grow his body and join them on the other side soon. It’s not like he can't come over right now, but without his body, things might get tricky. 

Chie, Yukiko, Saki, and even Souji opt to pet at his fur until he calms down. Kanji watches in awe, while Yosuke watches in disgust. 

“Hey, I wonder…” Saki starts, then backtracks. “Nah, nevermind.” 

“What is it, Saki-senpai?” Chie asks. 

“Well… did you ever have a Shadow, Teddie?”

Teddie sniffs. “Teddie? Shadow? What a bearrifying idea.”

Souji’s kind of stunned at how spot on Saki is with that guess. “What makes you think that?” 

“Well, you told me in the beginning that everyone has a Shadow, right? I wonder if it applies to… um… whatever Teddie is, too.”

Bad choice of words. Teddie eyes quickly cloud with tears once more. Chie comes to his rescue. “But hey, we’ll be right beside you while you find out! Right, guys? Right?”

Once Teddie calms down, Souji tells him the information he had “found out” about Rise. At the entrance to her dungeon, Souji places Yosuke, Yukiko, and Kanji on the front lines with him. Saki and Chie follow close behind. 

“I know this place is off-putting,” Souji tells them, because it is to him too, “but just try to remember what our goal is here.”

It’s been so long now that he hardly remembers what Rise’s dungeon looks like, so as soon as he walks in and sees walls among walls of curtains, his blood runs cold. His lips tremble; his shoulders tense.

Saki places a hand on his shoulder, both watching as the others walk ahead. “Something wrong?”

“N-No, this atmosphere just gives me a headache.”

Saki lugs her axe over her back with one hand and takes Souji’s hand with the other. She smiles encouragingly. “Then let’s go save Rise-chan.”

The first few floors go smoothly. Kanji pulls his weight knocking down the many enemies weak to electricity attacks and Souji follows up with physical attacks. Yosuke and Yukiko provide healing and buff/de-buff support, while Chie and Saki scavenge the area for any loose change, items, or rogue Shadows. All the while, Teddie expresses his fear and discomfort with the strip club through his mental connection with the team.

Despite the initial ease, the higher-up floors are not as kind. Every single Shadow they encounter on the higher floors is either an arcane turret, two champion knights, or a combination of a turret and two knights. While it shouldn’t be so difficult with the strong Personas Souji currently has on him, it’s a problem with how Yukiko and Yosuke constantly get knocked down by ice or critical physical attacks, which makes them unable to heal or buff himself and Kanji. His turns go straight to healing or countering status ailments on Yukiko and Yosuke, leaving Kanji to do all the work. The problem there is that his Persona isn’t as strong as Souji’s; it barely leaves a scratch on the Shadows. And to make matters worse, the only Persona on Souji that has healing abilities is one weak to ice, so every turn he gets knocked down, too. It’s beyond frustrating and painful. He’s getting far too dizzy to think clearly. 

“You’re so freakin’ annoying!” Kanji screams at a turret, which just makes a mechanical noise in response. 

“Pull back, everyone!” Souji commands. When they finally find a chance to escape, he turns to Yukiko and Yosuke. “I’m sorry, but I need to switch you two out for now. There’s no way we’re going to get through here like this.”

They’re both understanding and stagger from fatigue to the back line. Chie and Saki join the front, but now there’s another problem: they have no healer. Souji only has a healing spell strong enough for one person at a time and barely any group healing supplies, and the front line he has now are all primarily physical-based, meaning more healing is needed to accommodate for lost strength.

Souji runs a hand through his hair in frustration. I’m their leader, yet I can’t even manage them properly. What’s the matter with me? 

It’s so hard to think strategically like he needs to right now. The room spins violently around him, pink and purple fluorescent lights imprinting blinding after-images behind his eyelids. The feel of the poles is like ice; the sensation of sweat running down his body unnerves him.

Saki casts Mudoon on a knight, and the sound of the spell—coupled with the blaring music over the speakers in the club—makes him clutch his head in sudden pain. 

Sorry, can you make the music louder?
I cannot hear because of my dream. 

Sorry, can you make the…

Dream…

Sorry…
Sorry…
Sorry…

“…artner,” he hears someone say distantly. Something warm clasps his arm. 

“Stimulant…” Souji says to the voice, or at least tries to say. He’s not sure if he actually says it or not. The next thing he knows, the multicolored lights are powering off and the warm spot on his arm disappears. He slides to the ground and leans his cheek against the cold pole. “Everyone…?”

No response.

Didn’t… didn’t this happen last time? Souji thinks through the haze. But why am I alone this time? 

A pink spotlight glares in his eyes before he can ponder this anymore. Rise’s Shadow appears from behind a curtain. It approaches him slowly, then holds out a hand. “Come with me.”

Souji shakes his head, which only serves to makes him dizzier. The Shadow grabs him by the collar and hoists him up, then down the walkway. He makes to shove it away, but it’s no use; he’s too weak in this state. All he can do is follow the Shadow, wherever it’s taking him. 

It silently makes its way across the room until it reaches a particular curtain, then fists a hand in the curtain and leans up to whisper to him. “There’s treasure here.”

The Shadow pulls back the curtain, and there stands Kanji — stoic and arms crossed. 

“Kanji!” Souji yells. He runs further into the room, stumbling and swaying. “Are… are you fine?”

“All I could think about the other day…” Kanji begins, tone flat and dull, “when you told me that you’re gay, was how disgusted I was.”

Shadow Rise giggles and throws an arm around Souji’s shoulder. 

“W-What…?” Souji asks incredulously.

“Can’t believe I ever thought I was somethin’ so sick,” Kanji continues. “It’s a shame. I used to really look up to you, Souji-senpai. Thought I could identify with you and finally feel less alone. Now you’re nothin’ but the shit under my shoes.”

Shadow Rise laughs louder. Kanji turns to Souji head-on, disappointment finally seeping through his features. He shakes his head, then disappears. 

“One dowwwwn~!” the Shadow sings gleefully, leading Souji to the next curtain. 

“Wait…” Souji slurs out. Tears prick at his eyes. It’s so hard to see in this place. “S-Stop it, please…”

It pulls another curtain open. Dojima sits against a pole, idly smoking a cigarette. Behind him lies a pyramid of CRT TVs. “Here you are…” He flicks ash away. “My sister’s biggest regret.”

Souji gasps; several more tears fall down his face and sting his lips. “Uncle… is that… is that how you really feel?”

The Shadow wipes some of Souji’s tears away. Its long nails scratch and burn under his eyes. “Grrrrr… It’s hot in here, right? Like Hell itself, hah!”

“I’ve already got enough to deal with,” Dojima says. “Now I have to take care of another selfish brat on top of that?”

Dojima gives him a long, bitter look, then raps his knuckles against one of the TVs. The screen flashes to life. An image of Nanako appears, sullen eyes cast to the side. 

“Big Bro thinks I love him so much… but deep down, I hate him for leaving me all alone in Heaven.”

Dojima and the TVs disappear. Souji chokes and cries harder. 

The Shadow slaps him on the back of the head. “Suck it up!”

“S-Stop!” Souji struggles against it. “No more!”

It’s no use. The Shadow shoves him against a pole and slams its arm against his throat. “You’re gonna do what I say! Is that clear?!”

Souji shakes his head. No, no, no! Forever submitting to someone else’s will, forever weak, forever powerless — why won’t it end? Shadow Rise takes a fistful of his hair, brings his head forward, then promptly sends it crashing back into the pole. The sheer force of the blow is enough to make his teeth meet each other with a terrible snap. He whines in absolutely agony as the room goes spinning once more.

“You’re gonna do what I say, pretty boy…” the Shadow whispers nastily. “Or I’ll throw you to the Shadows all by yourself.”

Souji nods reluctantly. He has no choice; powerless as usual. The Shadow lets go. He stumbles along behind it, the pink spotlight blurring with tears and twisting jagged lines in his vision. Yukiko and Chie stand behind the next curtain. They’re turned away from Souji and the Shadow, oblivious to their presences. Yukiko runs a hand down one of the velvet curtains; Chie watches her, licking her lips like a blood-thirsty animal.

“Isn’t this color so pretty, Chie?” Yukiko asks. 

Chie nods. “It reminds me of Nanako-chan.”

Yukiko smiles. “Yes. I wonder what Souji-kun would think of these, too.”

“Who cares about that guy? He’s never been good enough for us. All he does is get us hurt.”

“Mm. Sometimes I think about what it might be like if someone else was our leader.”

“I wish we had a different leader,” Chie groans. “Hey, it probably wouldn’t be so hard to get him out of our group, Yukiko. He may call himself a ‘leader’, but in reality, he’ll lay down like a dog and take whatever happens to him.”

The girls disappear.

Shadow Rise grins smugly and tugs on Souji’s arm. “I wonder what Yukiko-senpai’s favorite fruit is. Or if she likes gardens…”

Souji’s eyes fall as he’s dragged along by it. They’re right. I’m not fit to be their leader. They should get rid of me. Shouldn’t rely on a dog. And… why does the Shadow keep talking like that? So cryptically?

The Shadow stops before the next curtain. “In the world of dragons… right, Souji-senpai?”

The Shadow shoves him inside, where Yosuke and Saki stand together. Yosuke has an arm around Saki’s waist, while Saki’s arms hang loosely around Yosuke’s neck. They cast razor-sharp eyes on Souji as he stumbles through the curtain and falls to his knees. 

“Hey, we were just talking about you.” Yosuke laughs and twirls a strand of Saki’s hair. “Isn’t that right?” Saki nods ever so slightly. Her eyes are completely locked on Souji, unblinking and unmoving. “It seems we’re all in agreement of how pathetic you are. Expect to sit this one out, partner. We’ll be the ones saving Rise-san.”

Shadow Rise enthusiastically claps its hands. “Woo! Yosuke-senpai to my rescue~!”

“I’m relieved, honestly,” Yosuke says. “You were getting too weird for me, Souji. Too fucking weird. You’re always touching me, always saying things to me you don’t even say to the girls. It’s like you’re in love with me or something.” Shadow Rise and Yosuke laugh together — wrong; so, so wrong. Saki keeps her gaze on Souji. She opens her eyes wider and sets her brow. “Actually, I’m not even surprised you’re some queer; it was pretty evident from the beginning. No wonder your parents fucking hate you, man. God, I’m so sick of hearing you cry over Mommy all the time. I wish she would just beat the shit out of you for good so I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”

Souji sits there for a moment—stunned at his best friend’s vile words—then begins to laugh brokenly, hysterically, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “I do too. Really. It’d be easier for everyone that way.”

Saki grabs Yosuke tighter. She moves her hand down to Yosuke’s neck and taps her index finger to his headphones insistently. She slowly looks up at the ceiling, then back to Souji. He quiets as he notices the pounding music has started to skip. It repeats the same line over and over. 

I cannot hear because of my dream.
I cannot hear because of my dream.
I cannot hear because of my dream.
I cannot hear because of my dream. 

“Maybe…” Souji says, laughing once more, “I don’t want to hear anymore.”

Shadow Rise crouches down next to Souji. They look directly at each other, laughing wickedly. It cups his ears; he places his own hands over the Shadow’s. This is wonderful. Why can’t everyone live like this? There’s no room for pain if you can’t hear, if you can’t see. It’s Eden all the time, whenever you want. Who wouldn’t wish for this kind of happiness?

Before he even realizes what’s happening, he’s being knocked over on his back. Saki climbs on top of him, opens his mouth, and forces something down his throat. However, he feels a slight resurgence of strength and grabs her wrists.

“Snap out of it!” Saki yells. She yanks out of Souji’s hold and pins his arms with her knees. She opens his mouth again, to which he feels a sticky substance trail down his throat. “Wake up, Souji-kun! Wake… up…!”

Her voice echoes as it grows distant, along with the sound of Shadow Rise and Yosuke’s maniacal laughter. 

**

“…ouji-kun! Souji-kun!” someone yells. 

It’s so bright in here… 

“Souji-kun!” he hears again. He turns his head away from the bright overhead lights. Someone with long hair is sitting over him. It takes a while, but eventually, the person comes into focus — Saki. “Hey! Is the stimulant working?”

A few heads appear behind her — all of his friends. Souji’s blood freezes over. 

“Are you still dizzy?” Saki asks, but he’s not looking at her anymore. He can’t tear his eyes away from Yosuke. 

“I wish she would just beat the shit out of you for good so I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”

Violent tremors wrack his body as the memories flood his mind. His breaths come in rapid succession, and his lips tremble uncontrollably. The temperature in the room suddenly feels absolutely arctic. It wasn’t that cold a second ago, was it?

Yosuke frowns and reaches a hand down to him. “Partner-“

Souji flinches away. “Don’t touch me!” 

“W-What the…” Yosuke immediately backs off. “Hey, Souji-“

“Yosuke,” Chie interjects. “We need a Goho-m.”

Souji hears someone dig around in the supply bag. All he can do is lay there—paralyzed—as he holds Saki’s hand like a lifeline. There’s a flash and a bang, and in the next moment they’re all standing in the studio backlot. The rest of the team stare at him with concerned expressions.

Souji just shakes. 

“Sensei…?” Teddie asks timidly, coming closer to him. Souji allows him to clutch onto his arm. 

Kanji takes a slow step toward him. 

Souji cowers away. “D-Don’t…”

Kanji puts his hands up and exchanges a look with the rest of the team. There’s a long stretch of silence; Souji’s own staccato-like breathing is the only sound that fills the air.

What’s going on? Why did they say those things to me? I want to get out of here. I want to get out!

“Souji-kun…” Saki says, taking one step toward him. He allows her to come closer. “Is it okay if I take you home?” He nods. She glances at the rest of the team, then leads him toward the exit. “Alright. Come on, then.”

Souji misses the way his friends watch him leave with sorrow etched into their faces. 

**

“Is… is everything okay with you and the others, Souji-kun?” Saki asks. She had walked him all the way home, up the stairs, and into bed, and is now crouched at his bedside, regarding him with sad eyes. Much to Souji’s relief, neither Nanako or Dojima are home yet. “Actually, nevermind. You don’t have to answer that right now. Just rest.”

“No, it’s alright,” Souji says, turning over to face her. He had calmed down significantly, but can’t get his friends’ words out of his mind. “The stimulant has left me wide awake. Besides, you saw what happened.”

Saki tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“Rise’s Shadow. It led me to you and Yosuke, remember?”

“We… we didn’t see Rise’s Shadow…”

Souji stares at her in confusion. Saki mirrors his expression. 

“Senpai, what happened right after you cast Mudoon?” 

“Um, you looked like you were in pain, asked for a stimulant, and then passed out. I had to put one down your throat because you weren’t waking up.”

“That’s it?”

Saki nods. “Mhm. Did you have a dream or something?”

“There’s no way…” Souji shakes his head vigorously. “There’s no way that was a dream. You have to believe me.”

“Well… what happened?” Saki asks. 

Souji explains the details of the… vision, he supposes is the word, carefully omitting the details that would out him. Though, “vision” would imply that it’s bound to happen eventually, right? Good fucking grief. He hopes that isn’t true. Maybe he’ll stick with “hallucination”.

“You… you really believed that was real…” Saki says disbelievingly. She sits a little straighter. “We would never say those things to you. Still, I’m sorry for whatever I may have said.”

“That’s the thing. You didn’t say anything. Well, you told me to wake up, but you mostly just stood there with Yosuke. I think you were trying to send me a message.”

“A message?” 

Souji stands from the bed and begins to pace the room. The stimulant’s given him a little too much energy. “Yosuke kept talking to me, but you just stood there staring. At one point, you tapped on Yosuke’s headphones and looked up at the ceiling, then looked back at me. I think you were trying to tell me-“

“That the music was repeating.”

Souji stops in his tracks. “Y-Yeah, how did you know that?”

Saki stands, too. She puts two hands on Souji’s shoulders. “Souji-kun, I had a dream about this! During the camping trip!”

“So did I…” Souji says. He looks to the curtains hanging from his window and thinks of the dream — of Namatame, Yosuke… Mother. Somehow, Saki’s hands feel a little colder against his shoulders. “What happened in yours?”

“Well…” Saki sits at his desk and grabs a paper and pencil. She starts to draw something, and it doesn’t take long before Souji recognizes it as the place he saw in his dream — curtains and patterned floor and all. “This is what it looked like. Some rooms had TVs in them; some had rivers of blood. I also heard what I’m pretty sure was the sound of waves in the background. So, you pulled the curtains aside and ran through these rooms like crazy. You didn’t see me, but I kept chasing after you. Do you understand so far?” Souji nods. “After a while, we ran into Yosuke, and you finally noticed I was there. You looked… so sad for some reason. I kept telling you ‘The music in this room is repeating’, and ‘What’s it saying? I can’t hear’. You didn’t respond, so I tried pointing at Yosuke’s headphones and looking at the ceiling.”

Souji stares at the drawing for a long while, then takes a deep breath. “My dream was a bit different, but the fundamentals were the same. Senpai, this is weird. Why did we dream of the same place?”

“I wish I knew…” Saki whispers. She twirls the pencil between her fingers. “Hey, what was the line that was repeating? There’s only two lines to the song.”

“‘I cannot hear because of my dream’.”

Saki smirks, just slightly. “Then doesn’t that make you think your ‘hallucination’ today was just a dream?”

Souji laughs, but it’s more self-deprecating than humorous. “Not really. Look, so many weird things have happened to me. So many weird things continue to happen to me. Things you and everyone else don’t even know about. This felt real. Or at least something close to it.”

“What don’t we know about?”

“I’ll… I’ll have to tell you all tomorrow.”

Souji’s dreading the experience already. He’ll tell them about the Velvet Room, his and Saki’s nightmare, and what happened today, but that’s it. The ability to manipulate time is a secret he’ll take to the grave. 

Saki shakes her head. “No, not tomorrow. Souji-kun… I’ve never seen you so scared before. You should take a day for yourself, or however much time you see fit. If you want, I’ll text everyone and tell them not to bother you until you’re ready to talk, okay?”

Souji smiles, heart-warmed. “Thank you.”

Saki leaves after making him some tea. Souji spends the rest of the day at his desk writing down his nightmare, Saki’s nightmare, the hallucination, and even what occurred with Yosuke’s Shadow months ago, considering he’s sure that was the same place he saw in his nightmare. He ponders what the connection is between these events as he pointedly avoids staring at the ominous veils of shadows that the curtains and TV cast throughout his bedroom.

June 25, 2011

The tension in the air when Souji walks into class the next day is thick enough to make him want to die on the spot, right there in Classroom 2-2. Yosuke is the first to spot him; he gives Souji a wobbly smile in greeting. Yukiko—turned around in her seat talking to Chie—inconspicuously taps her on the hand as Souji comes closer. Their smiles are much the same as Yosuke’s. 

As Souji slides into his seat, he feels Yosuke’s eyes practically boring holes into the back of his head. His hands shake and shake and shake. His pencil repeatedly falls out of his hand as he tries to write down the date in his notebook, and his left leg is moving of its own accord. He puts a hand on his leg, but it’s really no use, as both limbs are trembling so violently. And is it really that cold in here?

What the hell am I supposed to do?! Yosuke probably thinks I’m overreacting, doesn’t he? And I’m sure everyone is staring at me since I can’t calm down — whispering, whispering, whispering. Ah, there’s a girl over there doing it now. I wonder what she’s saying about me. ‘What's up with Seta? He looks so stupid, right? You think he’s so freaked out ‘cause everybody knows he’s a filthy qu-‘

Souji’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He takes it with two hands, opting to just let his leg bounce around like he’s riding a damn horse. His lips tremble; he desperately wishes that he had a jacket. 

Partner :D - 07:54
> prtnr, turn arnd a moment?

Souji takes several deep breaths and turns around, eyes cast downward so as to not see what he’s sure is a pitying expression across Yosuke’s face. Yosuke holds a small pill between his fingers — a sedative. He always entrusts Yosuke to hold onto their supplies for the TV world, but he didn’t know he carried them around with him everywhere. Besides, they won’t work on the other side, so he turns around in his chair and texts him just that. Or at least tries to.

Souji Seta - 07:55
> Thag won’t wwork ehen we’re n ot in. TV world. 

The reply comes instantly. 

Partner :D - 07:55
> jst try it plz

Souji turns around and quickly takes it from him, but ultimately fumbles it; the pill clatters to the floor. He closes his eyes and tries not to start crying. This is so embarrassing. He knows Chie and Yukiko are watching him again, but acting like they’re not. He attempts to pick it up off the floor, but it instead launches itself across the room. And now there are definitely—definitely—other people looking at him. 

“G-God dammit…” Souji says, voice breaking. He stands from his chair, but has to immediately hold onto Yosuke’s desk as he staggers. 

“Wait a minute,” Yosuke says. “Sit back down, Souji. I’ll get it.”

Souji sits down, puts a shaking hand over his eyes, and breathes in raggedly. He hears footsteps grow closer to him, and then a soft call of his name. He lifts his hand so that it’s still covering his face, but so that he’s able to see as well.

Yosuke crouches next to his desk, pill pinched between his fingers. “Hey. Is it okay if I put this in your hand and help you put it in your mouth?”

Souji hesitates, then nods. There’s no way he’s going to be able to take it himself, and he just wants this to be over with. Yosuke reaches for his free hand slowly, places the pill in it, and then carefully raises Souji’s own wrist to his mouth. Yosuke watches until he swallows, then lightly squeezes his wrist. 

Before Yosuke returns to his desk, he leans in close and whispers, “Right here for you, partner.”

Souji turns back, zones out, and stares at his blank paper. He’s sure the failed pencil marks that attempted to spell “June 25, 2011” are taunting him. He doesn’t even realize that Morooka comes in the door and starts bitching at the class. After an agonizing few minutes that seem more like an eternity, his muscles begin to relax, his breathing slows down, and yes, it definitely isn’t that cold in here. Morooka’s God-awful voice finally starts to register in his brain, and… shit, he’s calling on him. 

“Seta! Are you asleep?!” Morooka yells. “Wake up! What’s the answer?!” 

Souji slowly stands. He braces himself against his desk. “Um…”

An incessant sniffing comes from his right. He looks at Chie. 

“Individuality,” she whispers. 

“I-Individuality…” Souji mumbles.

“Tch, correct,” Morooka says, but sounds like he wants to rip Souji’s eyes out. Souji thinks he wouldn’t mind that too much. He nods at Chie in thanks, then waits until Morooka turns his back so he can take his phone out and text Yosuke. 

Souji Seta - 08:11
> How did you know that was going to work?

Partner :D - 08:11
> ive tried it b4 

Partner :D - 08:11
> r u feeling bttr?

Yosuke’s tried a sedative on this side? The thought of him going through what Souji just had makes his heart hurt. 

Souji Seta - 08:12
> Yes, but why did you try it?

Partner :D - 08:12
> same reason u jst did. dnt wrry abt it tho. im jst glad ur fine

Partner :D - 08:13
> srry i know senpai sed 2 leave u alone 2day but i couldnt jst ignore tht 

Souji Seta - 08:13
> It’s okay. I appreciate it. You helped me out a lot. Thank you, Yosuke. 

Partner :D - 08:14
> anythng 4 u prtnr :)

Souji’s face heats as he reads the message over a few times. He genuinely feels a lot calmer now, but it’s still going to be very hard to talk to them all tomorrow. 

**

Later on that day, Souji pays a visit to the shrine — not to fulfill ema requests, but to just think. He’s not a religious person by any means, but right here in this moment—as he’s standing before the offering box—he decides he wants to pray seriously for once. He places a few yen in the box, rings the bell, bows, claps, and thinks of every single person in his life — big and small.

He prays for his friends’ forgiveness, happiness, and safety, for Dojima and Nanako’s peace of mind, for Adachi’s comfort in Inaba, and for the welfare of each of his non-investigation team, non-family related bonds. He even prays for Mr. Morooka, wishing for his safety in the events to come, and for his parents as well, begging for their mercy and understanding. Lastly, and rather guiltily, he prays for himself — a neverending wish to calm his heavy heart. 

I hope there’s someone out there listening to me. 

He spends a long time afterward just sitting against one of the trees, breathing deeply and appreciating nature despite the rain. In fact, he finds he doesn’t even mind the rain today. The fox sidles up next to him under the umbrella at one point, and Souji doesn’t care one bit that she smells terrible and is getting his shirt filthy. Instead, all he cares about is petting at her fur and smiling at the wag of her bushy tail. As she looks up at him with her trusting eyes, Souji wonders how much she feels — if there’s any pain or loneliness in her heart. He thinks something so pure and innocent should never have to be subject to feelings like that. 

There are moments—moments like now—where he reaches a very relaxed state and takes into consideration how everything around him is very much alive — the grass he’s sitting on, the tree he’s leaning against, the rain pattering on his umbrella, the fox remaining steadfast at his side, the wind tolling the shrine’s bell…

And myself. There was once a time where I looked death in the face and accepted it, but it didn’t take me. A lot of times… I wish that it did.

The fox whines when Souji lulls in his petting, too immersed in his thoughts. He quickly resumes the soft strokes; she flicks her tail once in satisfaction. 

Ms. Yamano, Saki-senpai… and even you, Mr. Morooka: I hope you can forgive me. You all didn’t have a choice, and yet, there’s a part of me that desires your fates. He swallows through the burning constriction in his throat and tilts his chin up at the telephone poles that haunt his line of sight. I’m sorry… but I wonder what it’s like. 

The fox whines again when Souji stops petting her. She abruptly takes off into the rain. He doesn’t even have time to be sad about her leaving though, as she’s back within seconds, ema in her mouth. 

“Not today,” Souji says. “I’m sorry.” 

She insistently nudges the ema against him. He sighs and takes it, looking over the uneven scrawl of characters. 

I wish to be promoted this year, for the happiness of T, and to be able to afford that necklace.
-M.Y. 03/15/2011

It takes a few moments for Souji to piece it together, but he eventually realizes this is most likely Mayumi Yamano’s ema — if her initials, “T”, and the date are anything to go by. He reads it over and over and over. A few tears splatter onto the wood, smearing the ink. This was Ms. Yamano’s last wish — so simple; so human. It’s like he’s holding her dead body in his hands.

“I can’t do this one, you know…” Souji whispers, and he’s not quite sure if he’s saying it to the fox or to Ms. Yamano herself. 

Despite Ms. Yamano’s questionable morals, she still was a person. Someone who had breathed in the same air he breathes right now, who had also experienced the quirks of Inaba, and who had dreams, ambitions, lovers, and stupid material things she wanted. But now, none of that matters, because she isn’t here anymore. 

Here I am, confessing to your name that sometimes I wish I was in your place… How selfish is that? 

The fox nuzzles his arm affectionately. Souji leans into it, astounded by how sentient and intelligent this creature really is. “How do you always know what to do?”

Souji looks up at the torrential drops of rain catching on his umbrella and allows himself to just let it all out. The fox lays her head on his lap as a comfort while he cries against the rain. He stays like that for a long while, mourning Ms. Yamano and accepting his feelings of guilt and despair. It feels strange to be crying over her. She really hadn’t meant anything to him personally, but she had mattered to so many people, had impacted lives in ways she didn’t even know, and now… now that includes him. She didn’t know who Souji was—had never met him when she was alive—and yet she’s been a central part of his life for months — had led him to all of his friends he loves more than anything, had rekindled a spark of passion in his heart with the case.

And Ms. Yamano had wished for the happiness of Namatame… someone far more twisted than her. The name doesn’t sit right on Souji’s tongue. It bears a sour taste, a heavy weight on his shoulders; he had definitely overlooked something regarding the man. 

“Living and dying… they’re both one and the same to me,” Namatame’s Shadow had said that night on the hospital room’s TV. It was an exaggeration, sure, but it was also a subconscious thought, and you don’t think things like that unless something is seriously wrong. And for Souji to find some sense of familiarity in that statement before Inaba even came around means things have been wrong for a long, long time. Still, there would be no justice in killing him because of what he did. It would be revenge, plain and simple. There’s nothing fair about murder. There’s nothing fair about death. 

Saki and Morooka were once in the same place as Ms. Yamano—lifeless and glassy-eyed, hung on telephone poles—but now things are different. Now, they’re both alive, and they can continue to do the things they want in life. It doesn’t matter about their character. It doesn’t matter that there’s a part of Saki that resents Yosuke, and it doesn’t matter that Morooka’s an asshole to everybody. 

And… as much as it hurts me to admit, it doesn’t matter about Namatame’s character or morality either. He’s still human, and he doesn’t deserve to die. And Ms. Yamano didn’t either. Souji picks at a blade of grass, then immediately regrets the action. That’s what this all comes down to, right? Life and death. Robbing something—anything—of its rightful creation. Nanako wouldn’t have wanted Namatame to die for her, and Ms. Yamano wouldn’t have wanted me to die either. 

He’s full on crying now — hysterical and hiccuping, the kind you’d associate with a kid who lost his favorite toy. It’s a good thing it’s raining and people aren’t around, or he would’ve likely drawn a crowd because of how loud he’s being. He strokes the fox as a comfort. His hand comes back covered in mud, and the rain soaks through the parts of his clothes that aren’t covered by the umbrella.

It’s a very long time until he calms down—until his breaths slow and aren’t wracking his chest anymore, until his eyes are sore and bloodshot from so much strain—but despite that, his head has never felt more clear than in this moment. Right here, right now.

If it could be different, Ms. Yamano—Mayumi—I would trade places with you, but… you’ve given me a bit of new hope for my life. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, but I’ll continue to live and bring justice to your memory. It’s the least I could do.

Ms. Yamano’s killer is still out there, and he and his friends are the only people that can find out who that is and let her rest without any more humiliation. Souji wipes away his tears and smiles at the sliver of sun breaking through the dark clouds. 

I’ll see this through, Ms. Yamano, he vows, then smiles even wider. And wherever you are, I hope they have that necklace you wanted.

June 26, 2011

“So…” Souji says to his friends gathered around the usual table at Junes, “that’s why I acted the way I did the other day. I’m sorry. I hope you all can forgive me.”

It had been a true ordeal trying to psych himself up to actually leave his house and meet with them, one that had quickly led to a brief spell of panic, smothered only by a sedative he had asked Yosuke for as soon as he arrived. And now, he finds himself staring at his friends’ sympathetic expressions, though there’s a slight trembling in his lower lip that lingers. Yosuke remains a comforting fixture in the seat next to him. Souji acts like he doesn’t notice his partner shift his chair a smidge closer to him every few minutes.

Yukiko is the first to speak. “Souji-kun… you don’t have to apologize to us. I think I speak for everyone when I say we understand how you were feeling.”

“Yeah…” Chie says softly. “I’m sure that wasn’t easy for you at all.”

“I should be the one apologizin’…” Kanji mutters. “Not you, Senpai…”

Souji hadn’t told them what exactly they all had said, just that it happened. He starts to counter Kanji’s apology, but Yosuke cuts him off. 

“You know…” Yosuke says. He places the lightest touch of his fingers on Souji’s wrist under the table. “I get why you acted that way. Hell, I would have too, but…” He smiles. “Don’t you realize that whatever that was, it was all fake? None of us would ever, ever talk to you that way.” The lump in Souji’s throat expands ten-fold. Yosuke’s eyes are so earnest, and his hand on his wrist feels like a solemn promise. And yet… Souji can perfectly visualize the expression on his face when he had spoke of his mother. “You’re the one that taught us the importance of seeing through lies, partner.”

If you keep talking to me like that, Yosuke, you’re going to give me the wrong idea. And what your Shadow said to me in April… was that a lie, too?

“Y-Yeah…” is all Souji gets out. He puts his head in his hands and tries desperately to deal with the swirl of emotions twisiting inside of him. He feels Saki place a brief, warm hand on his and listens to the scraping of Yosuke’s chair as he moves the object directly next to Souji’s own, so much so that their upper arms touch. He can’t help a few tears from falling down his face. His friends patiently wait for him to calm down, none of them saying a word. After a while, he raises his head and tries to form the right words with an uncooperative mouth. “I just… I d-don’t really know what to say right now. Thank you, is all I can think of. Thank you…”

After a few more moments—filled with deep breathing and trying to rationalize his thoughts—he feels a little calmer. He explains Saki’s situation as well. 

“The same dream?” Yukiko asks. “Or, well, whatever it is? That’s really strange.”

“I have no idea what it means,” Souji says, sharing a look with Saki. No one seems to know either, for that matter, so he continues on. “There’s one more thing I wanted to talk about, but it’s not anywhere near as serious.”

The group stare at him expectantly, so he continues, launching into an explanation of the Velvet Room. 

Kanji’s eyes go wide. “Whoaaaa! That’s freaky, man!”

“So that explains why you space out in the backlot all the time…” Yosuke mumbles. 

“A woman with golden eyes…?” Saki asks. 

“She’s not a Shadow,” Souji confirms. “Never even hinted at it.”

“But…” Yukiko giggles. “A m-man with a long nose?”

Chie heaves a sigh. “Oh geez, here we go.”

“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?” Yosuke whines, but Yukiko is oblivious to his words amidst her laughing fit. “What about the part where they make Souji fuse Personas together? Or, I don’t know, the freakin’ limo?!” 

“Why are stupid Kou and Daisuke ‘The Strength’ anyways?!” Chie complains. “That should be me!”

The team’s collective mood considerably lightens from there, and soon enough hours have passed and it is time for everybody to go home, but there’s one more piece of business Souji needs to accomplish today. 

“Yosuke.”

Yosuke turns to him with raised eyebrows. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Souji shifts his eyes back and forth. There aren’t many people left in the food court, only two girls talking many tables away from them. Still, that does nothing to ease his anxiety. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. Just you. That is… if you still have some time?”

Yosuke smiles and sits back down. His chair remains directly against Souji’s. “Of course I have time, partner.”

Souji looks down at the tile of the food court, at the two of their shoes resting against each other. Just that sight alone instills a sense of peace within his rapidly beating heart. “It’s serious.”

“I’m listening.”

Souji glances at the two girls one last time, then focuses on Yosuke’s hand spread across the table. “I…” he says, then pauses. How do you even begin to talk about this? It’s not like he’s had anybody to talk about it with before. He gestures to the cord of Yosuke’s headphones. “Can I see that?”

“The-The cord?” Yosuke asks. Souji nods. “Yeah, sure.”

Souji takes the cord into his hands, fiddles with it, wraps it around his index finger, imagines all it could do. “As a kid, I developed this very persistent thought. It’s never left me. It’s only grown in intensity over the years.”

He pulls the cord tighter. 

“Souji…” Yosuke says, voice wavering. He attempts to unravel it. “Don’t do that.”

“That’s the problem, Yosuke. There’s a part of me that wants to do it. Believes I should.”

Yosuke frowns. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“Remember how I said one of you wished… a lot of pain upon me in Rise’s dungeon?” Souji asks. Yosuke nods. “It was… it was you.” He takes a deep breath. “And you know what I think of that wish? I think that I couldn’t agree more.”

Yosuke chokes on his breath. He tries to say something, but it comes out all jumbled. He tries again. “Wh-What? Why would you wish something like that?”

Souji shrugs and says nothing. He stares daggers at the cord, wraps it as tight as it will go around his index finger.

“Cut that out,” Yosuke reprimands, unraveling the cord. He takes his headphones off and slides them down the table, far away from the two. “Please look at me, Souji.” Souji reluctantly meets his gaze. He notices with a twinge of guilt that Yosuke’s eyes have tears in them, too. “What exactly are you trying to tell me?”  

“I’m trying to tell you that I constantly have thoughts of killing myself.”

Souji actually sees the moment the light leaves Yosuke’s eyes. He sheds silent tears as he continues to stare at Souji. His lips are tightly drawn, and his hand on the table has closed in on itself, forming a fist. The girls in the background laugh over something; the evening summer sun imprints itself on Souji’s neck too persistently, forcing his bangs to stick to his forehead.

“I don’t want you to pity me.”

Yosuke stiffens. “But… what… you…” He struggles to get his mouth working. “H-How am I supposed to react when you tell me something like that?” Souji absently rubs his arm and shrugs once more. Yosuke sighs. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffs. “I’m sorry. Just… can you talk to me about all this? Is that okay with you?”

Souji nods. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I feel like… like I just cause trouble for everyone in my life. Anywhere I go. My life isn’t my own, Yosuke. The very second I arrived in Inaba—a town where absolutely nothing happens—there’s been murder, and kidnappings, and pain everywhere you look. That has to mean something.”

“Bullshit,” Yosuke says through gritted teeth. “You ever hear of something called coincidence?”

Souji leans in close. “You ever hear of a world inside of a television before you met me? Come on. Someone out there is watching us. Someone gave us this power. You said it yourself in the beginning.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to… to…” Yosuke starts, then grimaces at what his words imply.

Silence hangs between them. Souji hears the scraping of chairs as the girls get up to leave. No one else left. Just himself, Yosuke, and the sun.

“Hey, partner…” Yosuke eventually says. Souji meets his gaze warily. His hands start to shake, and he thinks he may need another sedative soon. “What can I do to help and support you?”

Shame rises in Souji’s cheeks and flows out from his eyes. He’s so sick of crying. He’s so sick of needing people—of wanting people in his life—because it doesn’t get him anywhere. No one ever returns the same sentiment — not friendship, and not romance either. It’s only a matter of time before they leave him like everyone else. He squeezes his eyes shut and puts an arm over them. There’s something only he can do now—for Ms. Yamano, for Inaba—but after that, he’ll be back to how he always was: lonely, independent, and under control. It’s fleeting. It’s always, always fleeting. So what’s the point of trying to maintain any of these relationships? What’s the point, when no matter what, they will always-

Souji’s rapidly spiraling thoughts are cut off by a sudden warmth all around him. He takes his hand off of his eyes, only to be met with a faceful of orange hair. Yosuke… is hugging him?

“What can I do for you, partner?” Yosuke whispers, breath tickling his ear.

Yosuke’s arms are firm and comforting around Souji’s back and waist. He wonders if Yosuke felt this safe—this special—that time Souji had held him exactly like this at the Samegawa. Souji lays his head on Yosuke’s shoulder and clutches the front of his shirt tightly. He drenches it with tears. Yosuke doesn’t seem to mind at all. 

“I’d like it if you didn’t treat me any differently,” Souji finally says against his neck. “And… and never leave my side.”

Yosuke huffs out a laugh. “I already do that second one, but okay. Anything for you.”

They stay like that for a while, not caring in the slightest that they’re in public. Hell, not even caring that they’re currently at Yosuke’s place of work. Something about it is so freeing. Eventually, Souji pulls away and rubs at his eyes.

“Thank you,” Souji says. He notices the blush on Yosuke’s cheekbones and realizes how bold of an action that was for him. It doesn’t go unappreciated, not in the slightest. “Can I ask you for one more favor?”

Yosuke straightens up once more. “Y-Yeah, of course.”

“Do you think… do you think that, well, you could take over as leader for a while?”

“What?” Yosuke asks involuntarily. “Wait, I mean… what?”

Souji laughs at his surprise. He’s so cute. “Just for a while? Until, um, my head feels a bit more clear?”

“Are you really sure, partner?”

Souji nods. “Mm. I trust you.”

Yosuke considers it—albeit very briefly—then nods. “Well, yeah. Of course I can, but just tell me when you’re ready to come back, alright?”

“Okay, thank you. We’ll tell the others tomo—Wait, no.” Souji laughs. “That’s your job now.”

Yosuke smiles, eyes crinkling. “You’re sure?” Souji nods. “Then when would you feel up to going in the TV again?”

“Tomorrow. The sooner the better.”

“You got it, partner,” Yosuke says with a wink. He looks at Souji more seriously then. “You know you can rely on me for anything, yeah?”

“You’re sure?”

Yosuke shoves his shoulder. “That’s my line, jerk. But yes, I’m sure. Two hundred percent.”

Souji puts his cheek against his fist, trying and failing to hide his goofy smile. “Thanks, partner. You know… you give great hugs.”

And now Yosuke’s the one trying to suppress his grin. “Whatever.”

Though a few seconds later, he pulls him in for another one, and Souji feels like his heart might burst, like the monsoon behind his eyes won’t ever run dry. 

June 27, 2011

After recounting to Teddie the conversation from the day before, (“Senseiiiii~ I’m so glad I didn’t say anything beary rude!”) Souji looks at Yosuke in silent understanding as the team all stand together. 

Yosuke clears his throat and straightens up. “There’s something you all need to know.” A few of them send questioning looks at Souji, but he simply keeps his gaze on Yosuke. It’s not his place anymore. “Souji has asked me to take over as leader for a while.”

“I trust him,” Souji says, nodding. “It’s only for a while.”

“Well… if it’s okay with you, then…” Chie trails off, crossing her arms indifferently. Saki follows the movement, while Kanji scratches the back of his head and Yukiko plays with the hem of her skirt.

Souji’s about to speak up for his friend—who now wears a frown and slouches a bit—but Teddie beats him to the punch. 

“I think you’ll be a great leader, Yosuke!!” Teddie enthuses, and Souji knows he’s not playing around. Teddie can’t be sarcastic no matter how hard he tries.

Souji comes to stand directly next to Yosuke. A small gesture, not unlike Yosuke and his chair yesterday. “Teddie’s right. I wouldn’t have entrusted this to Yosuke if I didn’t believe in him. I just ask that you all put the same trust in him that I do, please.”

Yukiko is the first to come around. “Right, yes. I’m… I’m sorry, Yosuke-kun.”

“Umm, yeah…” Kanji mumbles. “Sorry…”

“Whatever, it’s fine. Let’s just go,” Yosuke says, tossing his kunai in hand and effectively cutting off any more apologies.

Souji gives him a reassuring smile. Yosuke returns it, then turns around and begins the trek to Rise’s dungeon. He feels sorry for Yosuke. It’s not fair that the rest of them don’t understand how wonderful, intelligent, and compassionate he really is. Maybe a few expeditions into the TV world will show them, though. Souji has complete faith in him. 

“Don’t you realize that whatever that was, it was all fake? You’re the one that taught us the importance of seeing through lies, partner.” 

Souji grimaces as he recalls Yosuke words. Right, I should have realized that. I may hold unending faith in him, but I don’t carry the same for myself. Still… was it all fake?

It’s a little stiff at first, but sure enough, after a while, Yosuke starts to lead them as effortlessly as Souji had. The turrets and knights try to block their path, but Yosuke had stocked up on magical barriers. He uses one on Yukiko so that she can heal without being knocked down and lets Saki and Souji handle the rest with dark and physical attacks. He’s completely on top of his game; he doesn’t waste any of the team’s energy that isn’t necessary, all while keeping a close eye on their health. Saki staggers once, and Yosuke immediately tosses her a life stone. There’s one time where Souji stiffens and fumbles his katana as they pass through a curtain, and Yosuke’s right next to him a half-second later, putting a sedative into his hand with non-judgmental eyes. He’s incredibly attentive. Not only to Souji, but to the whole team as well — constantly asking about their well-being and providing them with whatever they need. It warms Souji’s heart in a way he can’t describe. 

Eventually, Rise and her Shadow stand before them. The Shadow flaunts itself on a pole with no shame. It doesn’t seem to remember Souji at all.

“I’m sick of being some airhead cliche who chokes down everything she’s fed with a smile!” the Shadow shouts, voice breaking. “I’m no one but myself! Come on, look at me!”

“We don’t need to look at you to understand you,” Yosuke says to it, then turns to Rise. “You’re not the only one who wears a fake smile for the public.”

The Shadow growls and directs the attention back to itself. “You think I give a shit about you?! This is exactly what I mean. Nobody pays attention to the real me!”

“That’s not the point,” Yukiko says. She steps closer. “What we mean is you’re not alone, Rise-chan.”

“You don’t have to do this all by yourself,” Chie adds. 

The Shadow slips off the pole and stands directly in front of them with clenched fists. “I don’t want your pity! I can’t rely on anyone BUT myself!”

Souji can read between the lines. "Don’t become involved; I don’t want you to leave me." That’s what the Shadow really means. 

“So what?” Souji asks. The Shadow turns vicious eyes upon him. “You’re just going to accept that loneliness? You’ll never be happy that way.” He looks to Rise. “You can’t live your life without making any connections.”

“Yeah?” the Shadow jeers. “What bullshit will you say next? ‘I learned that the hard way’, right?” 

“Shut up!” Rise yells at it. 

Souji crouches down and speaks directly to Rise. “No. I won’t say that, because like you said, it doesn’t matter. This is your own struggle. It’s fine to believe in yourself. It’s wonderful, but…” He glances at Yosuke surreptitiously. “You have to learn to have faith in others, too.”

Yosuke crouches next to them as well. “You inspire a lot of people, Rise-san. Even me. There’s already thousands of people out there that put their faith in you.”

Rise sniffs and wipes at her eyes, and soon the whole team is convening around her, offering their own words of reassurance. 

“We’ve got you, Rise-chan.”

“Please trust in us.”

“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with reachin’ out.”

“You were always like that as a kid. Putting on a strong face for everyone,” Saki says. “It’s alright to let go sometimes.”

Maybe it’s because they have history, but what Saki says seems to really strike a chord in Rise. She straightens up; resolve fills her eyes once more. 

“So after everything, you’re just going to listen to the advice of a bunch of strangers?!” the Shadow yells, startling everyone. “Don’t you get it?! I’m all you have!”

Rise stands; the rest of them follow. They move closer to her protectively, to which she shakes her head. “No, it’s okay.” She approaches her Shadow with a smile and takes its hands in hers. “You’re right. You’re all I have. So that’s why I should learn to connect with you more and listen to what you truly desire. I can feel it right here.” She puts a hand to her heart and smiles even wider. “You’re scared of being hurt and of having people perceive you the wrong way, but that’s a part of life. I accept that… and you!”

The Shadow smiles for the first time, kind and satisfied. Pride swells in Souji’s heart as Himiko appears before Rise. “The Lovers” tarot card flashes for a split-second, then disappears. Rise falls to her knees.

“That was…” Rise says, awe filling her voice, but she isn’t able to finish the sentence. 

Teddie—who had been silent like last time—speaks up. “What I… truly desire…” 

“H-Hey,” Rise says. “You guys need to step back. I sense something from him.”

The team obeys her, and sure enough, Shadow Teddie emerges out of the bear seconds later. At least he isn’t flat and flailing around this time.

“The truth is unattainable…” Shadow Teddie declares in that unknown voice. “It will always be shrouded in fog.”

“That’s not true!” Souji shouts. He’s had enough doubt thrown at him this week to last him a lifetime, and like hell he’s just going to sit there and take it again.

The Shadow smirks. “Hmph, wouldn’t you know?”

Souji’s eyes widen. “You won’t find me this time either…” the voice in his dreams had said. It all makes sense, sick as it is. The confirmation that he is being toyed with—controlled by someone—absolutely infuriates him.

“You’re not going to break my spirit,” Souji spits out. “No matter how hard you try! This isn’t a game to me.”

“No?” the Shadow asks, slowly looking around at the team, then back to Souji. “May you live up to your potential, then.”

The Shadow morphs into its true form: a gigantic version of Teddie — cracked and peeling. It looks down at them with those frightening, hypnotizing eyes. 

Himiko’s visor locks into place over Rise’s eyes. “I’ll be able to guide you through this!”

Yosuke nods. “Alright. Partner, Yukiko-san, Chie, you’re all with me. Kanji and Saki-senpai, guard Rise-san.”

Kanji immediately runs over to Rise; Saki follows close behind. The rest fall into formation with Yosuke, who uses a Soma to bring them back up to full health and energy from the earlier battles in the dungeon. 

“Partner,” Yosuke orders, “I want you to use Rakunda on Teddie. Chie, cast Tarukaja on Souji, then Yukiko-san, use a Diamond Shield.”

Souji can’t even remember what skillset Shadow Teddie has, so when Yukiko uses a Diamond Shield and the Shadow immediately counters with Marakunda, it genuinely comes as a surprise. 

“Are you kidding?!” Chie gripes. 

“Don’t sweat it. We’ve got plenty of that weird salt stuff to get rid of it,” Yosuke says, using said Purifying Salt. “Okay, this turn I want Souji to use Charge, Chie to use a physical attack, then Yukiko-san, you’ll guard for now.”

Yukiko and Chie nod in affirmation, the latter taking on an offensive stance. Souji summons Yoshitsune to charge him up. Chie and Yukiko take their turns, Shadow Teddie uses Heat Wave—which lowers their health some—and then it’s back to Yosuke, who casts Garula.

“Not bad,” Yosuke says. “Souji, you and Chie are both using physical attacks this turn, and Yukiko-san, you’re healing, okay?”

Souji summons Mada for Brave Blade, which does quite the number on Teddie; Chie follows up and Yukiko heals them, all according to plan. However, the Shadow suddenly goes very still, glaring daggers at Yosuke. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what Shadow Teddie will do next, so naturally, Souji’s legs move on their own. He plants himself next to Yosuke and shoves him away, effectively guarding him from any harm. The pain from the Shadow’s resulting Nullity Guidance is excruciating, but the dizziness is even worse. Souji can’t make out a thing. Nothing at all. It’s a complete, jumbled mess for all of probably ten seconds, until he feels some kind of substance slide down his throat. 

“Easy, partner…”

As Souji’s eyesight comes back into focus, so does Yosuke’s form in front of him, now the one shielding him from danger. His back is turned to Souji—still in the midst of the battle—but every now and then, he turns his head to check on him. 

Souji laughs and slowly stands. “How are we not wiped of stimulants and sedatives by now?”

“It’s not funny, Souji,” Yosuke says, voice stern. “You could’ve been hurt badly.”

Souji winces at Yosuke’s tone. “But you-“

“No time to talk. Get back. Hurry.”

Yosuke’s clipped sentences leave Souji on edge, but nonetheless, the show must go on. Eventually, the Shadow falls and Teddie is face-to-face with his other self. 

“I’ve been alone forever…” Teddie mutters to his Shadow. “It’s all I know.”

“‘S like we said to Rise,” Kanji says, “there’s no shame in reachin’ out and wantin’ relationships.”

Chie hums in affirmation. “Besides, we already told you we’d stick by you, Teddie!”

Teddie’s eyes well up with fat tears. Kintoki-Douji makes his way into Teddie’s heart; “The Star” tarot card follows. Soon enough, the team find themselves in the backlot.

“You gonna be okay, Teddie?” Yosuke asks as they stand by the exit televisions. 

Teddie grins, but there’s a layer of exhaustion to it. “Of course! You just watch me!”

Saki chuckles. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about with him.”

“Yeah… hey,” Chie says, looking at Saki like a lightbulb just went off in her head. “Remember what you asked Teddie the other day? You were right, you know.”

“Huh…” Saki runs a finger over her lower lip in thought. “A lot of strange things keep happening.”

Once they cross the other side, Saki takes Rise back to Marukyu and the rest go their respective ways. Except Yosuke, of course. He gives Souji a meaningful look and walks ahead. Souji follows, wondering when exactly he had come to catalogue the intention behind all of Yosuke’s various facial expressions. They stop in front of the Dojima Residence, where Yosuke finally turns to face him head-on.

“Partner… you really scared me today.”

“I was just trying to protect you,” Souji says. There’s nothing wrong with what he did. His friends have done the same countless times, so he doesn’t understand why Yosuke is so annoyed by it. 

“I know that, but…” Yosuke takes a deep breath. “I don’t want you to ever pull that again.”

Souji frowns. “Pull”? What’s up with that word choice?

“Pull what? I’m just doing the same thing you all do for me.”

“That’s… I don’t care. Don’t do it again.”

Souji stiffens. “What’s the matter with you?” 

“What’s the matter,” Yosuke growls, grabbing him by the collar, “is that you could have gotten yourself killed trying to protect me!”

“What the h-hell, Yosuke?!” Souji shouts. White-hot fear climbs into his throat as he thrashes in Yosuke’s hold. “Get your hands off of me! The same could have happened to you all those times! What’s the difference?”

“The difference is that you want to die, Souji!” Yosuke yells, voice echoing all the way down the street. 

Silence. 

Souji is completely shocked, and furious. He pushes Yosuke away from him for good. “So that’s what you think of me, huh? That I’m just going to use any chance I have to off myself?!” Izanagi’s electricity courses through him, straight down to his fingertips. He comes closer to Yosuke and uses his height difference to his advantage. “Haven’t you realized that I care about you, Yosuke?! Is that not reason enough to want to keep you safe?”

Yosuke straightens up as a sudden, ominous gust of wind stirs around them, causing leaves to scatter at their feet. “I could say the same to you! What’s preventing you from just letting me in?!”

“You already know the answer to that question.”

Yosuke shakes his head. He grabs Souji by the shoulders, albeit much less forcefully. “I’m not talking about that! There’s something else you’re hiding from me, dammit!”

Souji’s breath hitches as he stares into Yosuke’s fiery eyes. All the anger drains out of him. “Someday, right?” Yosuke’s Shadow had asked him that day, and he had just gone and agreed like the lovesick fool he is. He can never say no to Yosuke—no matter the situation—but that promise will never be fulfilled. He can never, ever know Souji’s true feelings. Yosuke’s the greatest friend he’s ever had — his first real friend. That sentiment is far too important to risk losing over his own heart.

Voices nearby break the two from their trance. Yosuke removes his hands from Souji. 

“Come on, Dojima-san. Let’s get you inside,” Adachi says, walking toward the house with a drunk Dojima in tow. He spots the two. “Oh, hey! Can one of you get the door?”

Souji doesn’t waste any time. He fishes through his pocket for his key, opens the door, and seconds later Adachi lugs a mumbling Dojima through. Souji locks eyes with Yosuke, and after a moment, opens the door wider. Yosuke takes the hint and walks inside. 

“Heeeeeeey, Nanako!” Dojima shouts at the girl, who is sitting in front of the television. 

“Nanako-chan, could you go get his futon ready?” Adachi asks.

Nanako nods, then spots Souji and Yosuke taking off their shoes in the doorway. “Hi, Big Bro! Yosuke-nii!”

Yosuke bends down and smiles as she races toward him for a hug, like absolutely nothing is wrong. “Hey, Nanako-chan!” 

“Hi, Nanako,” Souji says, crouching down as well. “I missed you.”

“I did too,” Nanako says, pulling away from the hug. She looks between them and frowns. “Are you two fighting?”

Yosuke laughs, but it’s more forced than genuine. “D-Don’t worry about a thing. Why don’t you go get that futon?”

Nanako reluctantly retreats. Souji makes awkward eye contact with Yosuke in her absence, then breaks it by finally walking into the living room. 

“Friggin’ fancy-talkin’ kid…” Dojima mumbles as he approaches the couch. It occurs to Souji that his uncle is talking about Naoto, but he hadn’t known that in the last timeline, obviously. 

“The prefectural police sent in special investigational support,” Adachi explains to him and Yosuke, though Souji has no idea why the detective feels the need to share every little thing about the case with him. “‘Cause uh… we haven’t made much progress on the Yamano murder since April. Get this though: our support’s just a kid! Smart as a tack, yeah, but he’s only a high schooler!”

“Ugh…” Dojima slurs. “He’s nothin’ special. All he does is go on and on about deductions… and deductions… tch. ‘Ace Detective’ my ass. He’s just’a brat we gotta babysit!”

Souji stiffens as he recalls what his uncle said in Rise’s dungeon. “I’ve already got enough to deal with. Now I have to take care of another selfish brat on top of that?”

“Is it really so bad as long as he can get the job done?” Yosuke challenges. Damn. Bold of Yosuke to question Dojima’s opinion, especially when he’s hammered. 

“Tch…” Dojima growls. “You remind me of ‘m.”

Yosuke sputters in response, then quiets and shuffles his feet. Adachi overshares some more about the case, and Souji’s beginning to think maybe he and Yosuke need serious ‘foot-in-mouth’ help. 

“Will you shuddup already?!” Dojima yells at Adachi. “It’s probably your fault anyways! Always screwin’ up the damn paperwork…” He rolls his eyes, then points at Souji and Yosuke. “And you… both of you!”

Yosuke gapes. “M-Me?!”

“Yes, you! You two are always… skulkin’ around with th’victims. Doesn’t sit right with me.”

“They’re just our friends, seriously!” Yosuke whines, and Souji really wishes everyone would shut up already. 

“Quit back-talkin’ me, Hana… mmm… Hanazawa.”

Yosuke groans. Souji elbows him with a shake of his head. Eventually, Dojima’s situated in his futon and Adachi has left, and it just leaves him, Yosuke, and Nanako at the table, surrounded by crayons and coloring pages.

“I wish everyone wouldn’t fight so much…” Nanako grumbles as she colors on her paper. “Aren’t Dad and Adachi-san friends?”

“Of course they are,” Souji says, wondering how truthful that statement really is. He personally thinks they are. Maybe in a weird, love-hate sort of way. 

“Yeah, just sometimes…” Yosuke says, averting his eyes from Souji, “friends fight.”

Nanako regards Yosuke silently, then focuses back on her drawing. After a while, she sets her crayons down and slides her paper over to them. “I made it for both of you.”

Souji looks down at the paper. It’s a drawing of what appears to be himself, Yosuke, Nanako, Dojima, and Adachi with smiling faces at the Samegawa Floodplain. There’s a sun in the corner of the paper, small hearts everywhere, and they’re all holding hands—funnily enough—as if Dojima would ever want to hold Adachi’s hand. She had included Yosuke’s headphones, her own Loveline magnifying glass, and there’s even little cats scattered across the grass. It’s everything you could possibly think of when you imagine a child’s drawing. It makes Souji smile. In his peripheral, Yosuke mirrors the action.

When it reaches nine o’clock, Souji tells Nanako that it’s bedtime. She asks them to read her a bedtime story, and of course—of course—she picks a book about a girl stuck in a time loop.

“‘On her tenth day of the loop, Hisako Ishikawa spent the whole day in bed, sleeping soundly’,” Yosuke reads to her. “Heh, I don’t blame her. I would do the same in that situation.”

Nanako giggles. “Would you really?”

“Yeah. Probably for a few days, but then it would get pretty boring, right? I would wanna do whatever I can with the loop before breaking it.”

“What would you want to do most?” 

“Hmm,” Yosuke hums in thought, then smirks. “Sneak into a concert.”

Nanako gasps. “But that’s illegal!”

Yosuke winks. “Not if time resets itself the next day.”

Nanako giggles again. “Yosuke-nii!” As she quiets, she turns to Souji. “What about you, Big Bro? What would you want to do?”

“I’d want to find out how to break the loop,” Souji answers immediately. He’s already had his fair share of time-travel for one life, thanks. 

After wishing Nanako goodnight, they shut off the light, close the door, and move wordlessly to Souji’s room. Souji finds some tape and puts Nanako’s masterpiece on the wall next to his shelf, right above the calendar. They examine it together. 

“My head’s not really that big, right?” Yosuke jokes after a few moments of silence. 

“Only sometimes,” Souji says. 

They didn’t even turn on the light — the only source is the moon hanging beyond the window. Souji admires it in all its glory, jealous of its obliviousness to all of the Earth’s problems. Still, though…

The moon is beautiful.

“I wonder if I could ever say that…” Souji muses out loud, then grimaces at his mistake. Maybe he’ll accompany Yosuke and Adachi to their foot-in-mouth sessions. 

“Say what?” Yosuke asks. 

“Oh, nothing.”

Yosuke fidgets. “I’m sorry about earlier, partner. Really.”

“Okay…”

Yosuke sighs and moves closer to him. They’re practically nose-to-nose. Souji may have flaunted his height earlier, but he’s never felt smaller than now.

“I am,” Yosuke says. “I was wrong. You don’t owe me an insight into your mind; it’s not my place to know. I’ve just… never dealt with something like this before. I don’t really know what to think sometimes. I’m sorry, Souji.”

“I understand,” Souji says. “And I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry, too.”

“Don’t be.” Yosuke shakes his head. “You… you were right. That is what I thought of you. I keep thinking about what you told me at the food court, how you acted…” He grasps his headphones reflexively. “And then you threw yourself in front of me today. It terrified me, honestly. I… I don’t want to lose you… Not ever.”

Souji looks directly into his eyes. They’re shining exactly how they were yesterday — kind and compassionate. This is the Yosuke he knows—inside and out—like the back of his hand and the shape of his alarm clock that greets him every morning. One that doesn’t speak of hatred things, but rather the exact opposite.

“Yosuke, I told you not to treat me differently. I’m not going to break in half.”

Yosuke digs the heel of his hand into his eye and sniffs. “But how do I know that? H-How do I know that maybe one day, I’ll wake up and you’ll no longer be in my life?”

Souji moves Yosuke’s hand away so that he can wipe under his eyes. “You don’t have to worry about that, because I want to be in your life. All the time. I don’t have any plans, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He removes his hand. Yosuke sniffs again. “So have some faith in me, please?”

Yosuke nods. “Y-Yeah, that’s the least I could do. You’ve already shown so much in me.” He stares at Souji for a long moment, then runs a gentle hand through his hair — perfect; so, so perfect. Souji blushes, but doesn’t back away. Instead, he leans into the touch. “I always want you to feel real… Just like this. Tangible and safe.”

Souji closes his eyes and smiles. “Okay, Yosuke.”

Yosuke strokes his hair for a while longer, then suddenly brings him in for a tight hug. Souji acts like he can’t hear him crying again. “Just like this…”

Souji lets himself be held; he relishes in it, completely immerses himself in it. He puts his head in the crook of Yosuke’s neck and breathes him in — sweet and summery and everything he loves. 

“Souji…” Yosuke whispers.

“Yes?” Souji asks, sleepily nuzzling himself against Yosuke with no shame. So warm…

A few of Yosuke’s tears fall onto him. “Souji.”

Souji smiles wider, and says against his friend’s neck, “Partner.”

Chapter Text

?????

“…You know, I like cream puffs. I know it’s kind of girlish. There’s a good cream puff shop by our house, so every once in a while I’ll buy some and take them home.”

Naoki sits beside him at Aiya, absently twisting noodles around his chopsticks. It’s September, and the final reminders of summer linger over Inaba through humid afternoon thunderstorms and the uncomfortable shock of sweat across Souji’s palms. 

“If I put them in the fridge, Sis would eat them.” Naoki smiles at the bowl before him that has grown tepid and bland in the face of his aversion. “And then she’d give me stupid excuses like, ‘I had to eat them because they were about to expire’. But now… the cream puffs don’t disappear. I bought some and they expired in the fridge. When I saw that… it made me think, ‘Maybe Sis really isn’t here anymore’.”

Naoki slouches forward over the counter, lips trembling as he stares fixedly at an almost unnoticeable crack in the bowl. “I have a meaningless daily life…” he whispers with the most haunted eyes Souji’s ever seen. “Just confused parents and a dark house. Just rotting cream puffs.”

June 29, 2011

“You want one, Souji-san?” 

On Yasogami’s rooftop, Naoki holds out a package of cream puffs, tantalizingly waving it in front of Souji’s face while his sister giggles in the background. 

“They’re super good!” Saki says, biting into her own.

Souji stares down at the object before him. It’s innocent within Naoki’s hands, and yet the sight of it almost makes him vomit right then and there. Naoki’s eyes are bright and carefree, and his lips pull at a smirk that has become something of a signature upon him over the last few months. The telephone poles near the school frame the sides of Saki’s head against the sky. She smiles as well, completely oblivious to the neverending, hollow ache of a long-ago haunt that stirs violently in Souji’s heart. He takes the package of cream puffs delicately, as if it will break in two at any moment. 

Naoki’s brow furrows. “Hey, it’s not gonna bite you. You have tried cream puffs before, yeah?”

“It’s… It’s been a while…” Souji replies.

He opens it up and stares at the powdered sugar that now coats his hands white. He fights thought after thought as he obsessively wipes the powder off on his pants of Saki’s face, drained of color and life against a body suspended over a telephone pole — of her ashes scattered across the Samegawa.

Naoki eats even less in July, when the rain is so frequent that Souji fears it may never cease. “Then they all tell me, ‘You need to live an admirable life for your sister’s sake’. It’s…”

“It’s good, right?” Naoki asks.

Souji nods silently, swallowing multiple times to accommodate for the thickness of the food.

“It’s suffocating.”

**

As the end of day bell rings, Souji moves to quickly gather his things so that he can speak with Mr. Morooka, a plan to save him having formed in his mind. 

“Hey.” Yosuke claps him on the shoulder before he can even move an inch. “I was thinking about going in the TV today to gather some items for people. Dude, you never told me how needy these guys are. Anyways, you up?”

“Sure, just…” Souji glances behind him as Morooka slides the classroom door open. “Just give me a second, okay? I need to ask Mr. Morooka something.”

Yosuke tilts his head. “What the hell do you need from him?”

One of Souji’s eyes twitches—enough to be noticeable—and he doesn’t quite understand why a sudden rush of anger courses through him at that question. “It’s not your-“

He stops and throws a hand over his mouth so that he can’t say anymore.

“Uh… s-sorry,” Yosuke sputters. He drops his hand and places it on his headphones instead. “I was just… you… uh. Like-“

Souji sighs. “Please stop. I’m sorry.”

He imagines it’s likely a culmination of many things: the stress of balancing the knowledge of two separate timelines, his active contest of the consequences of them, his growing frustration with his own feelings toward Yosuke, the weighted admittance of some of his deepest, darkest thoughts, and most of all, the guilt that is forever eating away at his heart, reminding him at every possible moment that failure isn’t an option. And he knows this isn’t easy on Yosuke either. To be handed the title of “Leader” and the added knowledge of “My Best Friend Is Suicidal” on the same day no doubt left him feeling very overwhelmed. They may be waltzing through emotional landmines right now, but Souji knows Yosuke’s trying his best. And so, he himself must do the same. That’s how a partnership works, after all.

“I’m sorry,” Souji repeats, then tries for something of a smile. “I’ll be ready in a second. I promise.”

“Right.” Yosuke tries too, though the action is strained. Still, it’s something. “I’ll be waiting.”

Souji rushes out the door behind Morooka, calling out for him.

“What?!” Morooka gripes as he turns around. “What the hell do you want?”

Souji rubs the back of his neck. “Um, I wanted to talk to you about tutoring.”

Morooka raises an eyebrow. “Tutoring? Seta, you’re the top of the goddamn class.”

Yeah, that’s because I’m a walking time machine and a little boy forced to mend the failures of a mother all in one.

“That’s because I have a tutor, sir,” Souji lies instead. “But she’s going to be out of town for the next two weeks. I wanted to ask for your help while she’s away.”

Morooka waves him off and moves to walk away. “I don’t have the time, kid.”

“I’ll pay you,” Souji interjects. “Twenty thou—No, thirty thousand yen an hour.”

Morooka stops in his tracks. “Excuse me?” Souji pulls a few bills from his pocket and holds them up for Morooka to see, whose eyes go wide. “Tch, what the hell are you? A damn drug dealer?”

“No, an assassin.”

Morooka barks out a laugh. “You city slickers really are something. Fine, but save your money. You’ll need that much a day by the time you reach my age.”

“Thank you. I only need help this Saturday and the next. July 2nd and 9th.”

“Sure, sure. I’ll see you then.”

Souji meets up with Yosuke in the classroom after, and is surprised to see that none of their friends have gathered around him yet. 

“Hey,” Souji says. “I’m ready to go. Where are the others?”

“Um, actually…” Yosuke rubs his nose. “I’ve decided we’re gonna go on a different day.”

“What? Why?”

“Uh, ‘cause…” Yosuke hesitates. What is he so nervous for? “‘Cause you look really tired, Souji.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you know…” Yosuke reaches out and swipes a gentle thumb under Souji’s left eye. “You’ve got really bad dark circles, partner. Really bad.”

Souji smiles wryly, relishing in the quick warmth from that simple touch alone. “Don’t throw a day just for me.”

“I would do it for any of you. I can’t have you collapsing from exhaustion. So that’s why…” Yosuke straightens up with a short laugh and points at him. “So that’s why, as your leader, I command you to take it easy today.”

Souji can’t help it. He chuckles too. “Oh yeah? What if I disregard orders?”

“The hand of the king is brutal, dude. I’ll put you on the backlines and have you do the boring stuff like organizing the supplies. Not joking.”

“I don’t mind organizing the supplies.”

“Yeah, I know you don’t, you big weirdo. But…” Yosuke smiles again, glancing away shyly. “I want you by my side up there, Souji.” 

You’d think Souji would be past the butterfly stage by now. After all, it’s been nearly a year and a half since he first realized he had feelings for Yosuke, but even so, they swirl around inside of him wonderfully.

“It’s… hard to sleep,” Souji admits, though Yosuke knows this full-well by now.

“Is there anything that helps?”

You. 

“Not really.”

Yosuke looks deep in thought for a few moments, then his eyes light up. “Hey! I have a great idea!”

“What is it?”

Yosuke beckons him out the door. “Come on, come on!”

He leads them all the way to the Samegawa riverbed, Chie and Yukiko deciding to trail along as well. When they arrive, Yosuke throws his school bag down on the grass—headphones following—then whispers something to the girls.

Chie grins. “Got it!”

She takes off with Yukiko to the other side of the riverbed. Yosuke begins stretching his arms and legs without another word. 

“Uh, hey?” Souji questions. “So what are we doing?”

Yosuke grins mischievously. “We are going to race, partner.”

“Race? Why?”

“Exercising is one of the easiest ways to tire yourself out! And I’ve heard it can, like, clear your head? Or something?”

“I think it’s going to give me a headache instead…”

Yosuke gives him a gentle nudge. “Come on. Or are you just afraid to lose to me?”

“Who says I’m going to lose to you?”

Yosuke grins wider. “There you go. Alright, so you’re running to Chie and I’m running to Yukiko-san. When we get to them, they race each other too. We’re going to settle who’s the fastest right here, right now.”

Yosuke holds out a hand to shake. Souji accepts it without hesitation.

“Then let’s get equal, partner.”

“Alright,” Yosuke says as they get into position. “Ready, set, go!”

Yosuke immediately sprints out in front of him, which really doesn’t come as a surprise. Though, the other end of the riverbed is much further away than Souji had realized. He recalls Daisuke telling him something long ago about saving most of your energy for the final quarter of a race, so he slows his pace and lets Yosuke overshadow him until Chie and Yukiko become a whole lot clearer in his line of sight. Then, he really starts to gain speed, catching up to Yosuke in no time.

“H-Hey… dude… what the hell…” Yosuke pants as Souji appears next to him. 

“Come on, Souji-kun!” Chie yells. “You’re almost there!”

Yukiko cups her hands around her lips. “Yosuke-kun, just a little further!”

Despite Souji exerting himself fully only in the last few seconds, it still comes out to a tie. He can’t find one reason within himself to be upset at this.

“Guess… we really are equal… huh…” Yosuke breathes between mouthfuls of water as Yukiko and Chie begin their own race. 

“Go… Chie…!” Souji attempts to yell across the riverbed through his heaving breaths.

Chie ends up winning the race by a longshot, her cheers of victory coming across clear as day even from the other side. Yukiko flops down on the grass and doesn’t get back up, defeated.

Yosuke cracks his knuckles. “Okay, round two.”

“Again?” Souji asks incredulously. “That wasn’t enough?”

“Hell no, dude! You have to wake up tomorrow feeling like you got hit by a freight train!”

I can feel the painful burn in my thighs already, thanks.

“Whatever you say…”

They tear their way through the grass once more, Yosuke leading several steps ahead of him without any indication of tiring out. Oh well, he can have his win.

“Big Bro?!” suddenly sounds out to his left. 

Souji stops in his tracks completely. Nanako stands on the road directly next to the riverbed, enthusiastically waving to him. Souji beckons her over as he sputters out a cough, too out of breath to form words.

“Hi!” Nanako greets as she approaches him, clutching the straps of her backpack. “Are you racing?”

“Yeah… hah…” Souji takes a long breath. “I’m not very good. What are you doing?”

“Walking home from school. Oh hi, Yosuke-nii!” Nanako grins, peels a sticker off one of the straps of her backpack, and smooths it on top of Yosuke’s hand. “You won, so you get a gold star!”

“Ohhh, look at that, Big Bro!” Yosuke shoves his hand in his face. “You jealous?”

Souji faux-pouts. “Can’t I get a participation star?”

“Hmm.” Nanako considers it, then peels another sticker off and slaps it right on his cheek. “I only have hearts left… soooo you get a participation heart!”

Yukiko suddenly appears behind them. Her eyes light up at the stickers. “Nanako-chan, I want one!”

“Hey, me too!” Chie chimes in.

Chie and Yukiko receive matching hearts on their cheeks, the latter who—of course—finds this extremely amusing. Before Souji knows it, Nanako is challenging him to a race as well, and he is so fatigued at this point that he doesn’t even have to “let” her win. He lies down on the warm grass afterward. Nanako threads daisies in his hair while Chie, Yukiko, and Yosuke sit cross-legged on either side of him. The flow of the river and the gentle lull of his friends’ voices thrums through his ears pleasantly, as does the sensation of Nanako’s careful fingers twisting in his hair. 

“You were right, Yosuke…” Souji mumbles with a lazy smile on his face. He opens his eyes to find his friend’s returning smile under the sun. “I think I’m going to sleep well tonight.”

And he does.

June 30, 2011

“Alright, let’s hear it,” Souji tells Shu during their next session. Shu grimaces as he takes the notebook out, opens it, and slides it across the table. Souji shakes his head. “I want you to read it out loud.”

Shu sighs. “Seta-san, this is embarrassing.” When Souji doesn’t respond, Shu grumbles and gives in, glancing down at the list. “Fine. Alright, number one: get accepted into a good college and a well-paying job. I’ve already told you this one is true. Number two: visit Tokyo. I’ve always heard stories about the big cities, yet I’ve never been to one before.” He smiles and shrugs. “Akihabara sounds fun. Number three: hang out with a friend. Yeah… I’ve never done that one either. Number four…” He hesitates and… blushes? “T-Tell Kyoko-chan I think she’s pretty…”

Souji chuckles. “Who’s Kyoko-chan?”

“Who do you think? A girl I like, okay?”

“Okay,” Souji replies, matching his tone. It’s sweet in its own childlike way — seeing him overcome with the burden of a crush. Not like Souji doesn’t know how that one feels. “You can knock two birds out with one stone, you know. Ask Kyoko-chan to hang out and then tell her you think she’s pretty.”

Shu fixes his glasses and frowns. “Kyoko-chan isn’t my friend. I don’t have friends. Anyway, number five: join a school baseball team. Uhh, yeah… It’s always seemed appealing. And… and number six…” He takes in a deep breath, then exhales slowly. “Make Mom proud.”

God, wouldn’t we all like that?

Shu puts the notebook down. It thumps against the table even louder than the sound of Souji’s heart splitting in two.

Shu looks at the object with resentful eyes, like it somehow grew a mouth and bit him. “I’m never going to make her truly proud… I know I’m going to burn-out at some point.”

Souji swallows thickly, willing the right words to come to mind, and yet they don’t. He doesn’t have an answer to this problem; he can’t solve it. How can he? He hasn’t even solved his own.

“Shu…” Souji eventually says, “you make me proud. I may not be the one you want to hear that from, but it’s true, and it’s still something. There will always be someone out there who believes in you.”

“And you… you believe in me?”

“I do.”

Shu sniffs. Souji acts like he can’t see the stray tear sliding out from under his glasses. “I think you’re the only one that does, Seta-san.”

July 3, 2011

At the riverbed, Hisano gently traces the design on the blanket she sits under, humming thoughtfully as she laments to Souji. “‘Why did that person have to die?’ That’s the question everyone wants to know the answer to. How is it right that this life had to come to an end? We want to think that they went to the gods. They’ve been summoned to Heaven and there’s nothing we can do about it. We try to convince ourselves of that.”

Souji traces her line of sight out to the river, where the water laps at the edges of the bank endlessly, just like they did a few days ago when all he could think about was inching closer and putting his head in Yosuke’s lap, succumbing to the peaceful sleep that seems to follow whenever his partner is around.

“Sometimes… we look forward to death taking them up to the gods,” Hisano admits. She glances over at Souji with a tired smile. “You don’t quite understand it yet, do you?”

“You usually don’t see such a large TV in a hospital room,” Naoto comments, placing a chilling hand on Souji’s shoulder. “It’s not our fault if he happens to escape into the TV world, though he may find there is no way out.”

“We’ve got him right where we want him…” Kanji says.  

“Living and dying… they’re both one and the same to me,” Namatame’s Shadow says through the hospital’s television screen with a crazed laugh. “And even if you tried, we both know you couldn’t do it.”

“Please… believe me…” Namatame cries as Souji forces his head inside the TV.

“Souji-kun, stop it!” 

“Senpai, no!”

“What the hell is wrong with you, Souji-kun?!”

“That’s the way, partner,” Yosuke coaxes darkly. He lays his hand atop of Souji’s own and pushes Namatame further.

“Of c-course I do,” Souji says. He closes his eyes against the horrid memory. “I know exactly what it’s like to want someone dead.”

Hisano’s voice softens. “The notion of innocence is fleeting… It’s a kind of knowledge I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.”

In the next moment, Souji feels a soft brush against his hand and looks down to find Oscar there, languidly searching out affection. He scratches behind the cat’s ears, then under his chin. He thinks he wouldn’t mind receiving this type of love either.

“A friend,” Hisano remarks, giving Oscar a light pet. “You know… many people hold superstitions about black cats. Particularly that they are omens of death.”

“I don’t know about that,” Souji says. He grins as Oscar meows. “People are wrong all the time.”

Hisano nods sagely. “Yes. People hold many false beliefs. We are too trusting, Souji-chan. Too susceptible to the lies that exist right before us.”

July 9, 2011

“Welcome home, Big Bro!” Nanako gleefully shouts that Saturday. She crouches at the front steps of the Dojima Residence, clad in a huge, bright yellow raincoat that shields her from the current onslaught of rain. She’s looking down at something with her hands outstretched toward it, yet Souji can’t tell what it is due to the long sleeves of the raincoat obstructing his view. “You’ll never believe what I found! Come here!”

Souji crouches next to her. “What is it?”

“Look…” Nanako gently whispers.

She holds up a mass of black fur to him. In her hands is a kitten — soaked to the bone and shivering. 

“Oh Nanako, give him here.” Souji quickly grabs the kitten and holds it close to himself so that it can gather some warmth. “How long ago did you find him?”

“Right before you showed up. Adachi-san actually found him. He’s inside now getting a blanket for him!”

Souji looks at Nanako once more, at the coat she’s wearing. He’s seen this coat somewhere. “Is that Adachi-san’s raincoat you’re wearing?”

Nanako nods. “Oh, yeah! The kitty kept running away from him, so he gave me this and said I should try to catch him instead.”

“I see…”

The door opens. The man of the hour is standing there.

“Hey, Souji!” Adachi shouts over the pouring rain. He hands the blanket over. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” Souji replies, wrapping the blanket around the kitten and making his way inside. Nanako and Adachi trail behind him. “Uncle isn’t here?”

“He went to get dinner,” Adachi explains. “I should probably call him and ask for cat stuff too, huh? What do cats even need? Also… can you call him instead? I have a feeling he’s just gonna yell at me for bringing an animal into his house, heh.”

Souji doesn’t doubt that one bit, so he obliges, though as soon as he’s finished with the phone call, there’s a knock at the front door.

“Hey, listen,” Souji says, holding out the blanketed kitten to Adachi. “That’s my teacher here for tutoring. Can you and Nanako please watch over the cat until we’re done?”

“Uh, sure…” Adachi replies, though he doesn’t sound so sure. He takes the kitten with clumsy hands and holds it to his chest. “H-Hey, little guy.”

Nanako stands on her tip-toes to catch a peek of the kitten’s nose just barely sticking out of the blanket. “So cute!”

“You know… many people hold superstitions about black cats. Particularly that they are omens of death.”

“Did you eat a donut earlier, Adachi-san? You’ve got jelly on your cheek!” Nanako points out, giggling as she pokes his face. She notices some on the raincoat next. “Look, there’s even some on your coat!”

Souji shakes the thought as he regards the two for a short moment. Nanako looks so happy, and Adachi sighs good-naturedly as he thumbs away the red jelly on his cheek.

“You know me,” Adachi says. “Always getting in fights with the small stuff.”

Souji chuckles and moves to open the front door. Morooka grumbles about the rain all the way through the house, sitting down at the dining room table with Souji while Adachi and Nanako watch TV and entertain the cat at the other table. Morooka grills him for about an hour and a half; Souji acts like he hasn’t heard any of these questions before in his life in an attempt to get his teacher to stay longer and off the streets from Mitsuo’s hands.

“Seta, I know you know the goddamn answer to this one,” Morooka spits, beyond irritated, “because every time I ask it in class you perk up like a lovesick puppy! Who translated ‘I love you’ as ‘The moon is beautiful’?!” 

“Soseki Natsume…” Souji grumbles.

“See?! Why’re you wasting my time, kid?!”

Man, of all the people I have to save… Why’d one of them have to be you?

“Now,” Morooka continues, “what period did Japan first imple-“

Before Morooka can finish his sentence, a particularly nasty bolt of lightning flashes through the window. A second later, the power to the house shuts off, leaving all of them completely immersed in darkness.

“Noooooo!” Nanako pitifully cries. “Loveline was just about to rescue Kakyoin from the water tower!”

Water tower… Souji thinks. His heart sinks as he recalls where Morooka’s body was found last time. Something is wrong.

The sound of his cell phone ringing interrupts his thoughts. Yosuke’s name flashes across the screen. 

“Hey?” Souji answers.

“S-Souji…” Yosuke’s voice shakes more than the thunder that rattles the house. “I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay?”

“What? What is it?” Souji asks, not able to keep the rising hysteria out of his voice. Something is wrong.

“Look, I-I don’t know what happened, but… but Saki… she’s in the hospital…”

“What?!” Souji yells, standing up from his seat so quickly that he fears he may pass out. “W-What do you mean she’s in the hospital?! Is she alright?”

“I don’t know, okay?! I have no clue what happened, but Naoki just texted me and I’m on my way over now. I’m almost there. Can you make it?”

“Y-Yeah…” Souji breathes, grateful that he can’t see everyone’s no doubt concerned eyes upon him in the dim room. He attempts to choke down the impending panic that rapidly builds in his throat and chest. “Text me what room she’s in.” He hangs up and immediately rounds on Adachi. “Adachi-san, I’m sorry to ask this of you, but… but my friend is in the h-hospital, and I need… I need…” He takes a deep breath and tries again. “Can you please take Mr. Morooka home?”

“Y-Yeah, sure,” Adachi says. “Are… you gonna be okay?”

“Mhm,” Souji assures through gritted teeth. “Yeah.”

“Alright. And hey, I’ll just stop and get the stuff for the cat on my way home since Dojima-san still isn’t back. I wonder what’s keeping him…”

Souji feels like breaking down and crying—right then and there—as he realizes he knows exactly where Dojima is at. 

His phone buzzes with a text.

Partner :D - 22:34
> saki’s in rm 415. jst been told by the doctors they think sum1 physically assaulted her

Mitsuo… Souji seethes. How could I be so stupid? I should have seen something like this coming.

“Come on, Nanako.” Souji holds his hand out to her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to leave you here by yourself.”

Souji guides Nanako to the scooter outside, and though he knows his sister isn’t allowed to take rides on it, he has no other choice right now. He puts the helmet on her instead of himself and takes off. The torrential rain pelts against his skin like bullets. 

When they arrive at the hospital, Yosuke, Naoki, and the rest of the group—sans Saki—greet him with worried expressions.

“Hey, dude,” Yosuke says, anxiously twirling the cord of his headphones. He looks to the door of Room 415. “Dojima-san’s in there right now.”

“I know,” Souji says without thinking.

Yosuke cocks his head. “You know?”

“I just mean…” Souji fumbles for an excuse. “Of course he would get tied up in this, right?”

“Yeah… right…” Yosuke mumbles, though his frown grows that much deeper.

Dojima exits the room a moment later, lips curled in frustration. His eyes immediately find Nanako. “What the hell…” He looks back up at Souji. “Why did you bring Nanako here?”

“Adachi-san had to leave. I wasn’t just going to leave her at home by herself. Plus, the power went out.”

“Why did Adachi leave?”

“I asked him to take Mr. Morooka home since I had to get here.”

Dojima crosses his arms. “Your teacher walked all the way to the house by himself… He couldn’t walk himself back?”

Beside Souji, Yosuke crosses his arms as well, while Chie, Yukiko, Kanji, and Naoki just watch on confusedly. God, this is bad. Why is he the one getting grilled when there’s a murderer running around town with Saki’s blood still fresh on him? Nanako clutches onto Souji’s hand tighter as she pulls Adachi’s raincoat snug around her. At least there’s one person on his side.

“I mean…” Souji swallows and straightens up, determined to not let the sudden spotlight get to him. “He tutored me for hours, and it’s raining as well. It would have been rude to make him walk back in the rain, especially considering he won’t even let me pay him.”

“Uh-huh,” Dojima grunts. “Konishi’s refusing to answer my questions. It’s a real pain, I tell you. But for some reason, Souji…” He glares at his nephew head-on. “She keeps asking to talk to you.”

“Me?”

“You heard me. So go on in,” Dojima says, opening the door a fraction. Souji releases Nanako and walks forward, but Dojima stops him once more. “But I have to warn you…” He puts a hand on Souji’s shoulder. “There’s something wrong with her. I can’t put my finger on what, but… something is wrong.”

Souji nods wordlessly, true dread and unbridled fear creeping into his heart and throwing away lock and key. The sound of the door closing behind him feels like a death sentence. He makes his way to Saki’s bed, eventually coming face-to-face with the extent of her injuries: glaring red laceration strikes haphazardly scattered across her face, and the beginning of multiple dark bruises that trail from her hairline all the way down to her neck and arms. The largest and ugliest one is centered at the top left side of her head. A few large bandages rest over her head as well. She finally looks over at him with cloudy eyes. Foggy eyes. 

“Senpai…?” Souji asks warily. “How are you feeling?”

Saki stares at him—unblinking—then slowly motions for him to come closer with her index finger. He does, inching down so that he is practically level height with her supine form on the bed. She whispers something, but Souji can’t make it out.

“Sorry, what?”

Saki abruptly wraps her fingers around Souji’s arm and digs her nails in painfully. Souji’s blood runs cold as he attempts to pull her hand off.

“H-Hey, Sen-“

“In… terr…” Saki rasps, clenching his arm tighter as she speaks next to his ear.

“What…?”

“In… terr… o… ga… tion…”

“Interrogation?” Souji asks. He lifts his head so that he can look at her. “Is that what you said?”

Saki’s lips twitch in anguish. She digs her nails in hard enough that trails of blood spill down Souji’s arm. He tries to pull her off again, but somehow, it’s like trying to pick up tons of goddamn cement. Saki seizes his neck with her other hand, shoving her nails into it with enough force that he truly fears she may snap it right in half. Her face contorts in fury, foaming at the mouth as she drags Souji down further.

“‘GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BEG, AND MAYBE I’LL LET YOU OUT’!” Saki screeches, so loudly that the machinery around her shakes. Her heart monitor beeps rapidly as she growls and throws Souji to the floor. “‘I KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH GIRLS LIKE YOU’!”

“Senpai!” Souji yells, backing up toward the door. “Please stop!”

Saki picks up a vase of flowers and hurls it at Souji, to which he dodges and watches as it explodes into pieces where he once was a mere second ago. Teddie’s words from months ago suddenly flood his mind. “That girl you saved from here yesterday… I sense something… bad from her.” She launches a large chair at him next with only one hand, and hell, that shouldn’t even be possible. Souji isn’t quick enough to completely dodge it because of its size. It ends up grazing his right arm; something snaps louder than a branch over a knee.

“S-Saki…”

Souji desperately reaches for the door handle behind him with his other arm. He fumbles it a few times before it opens fully, then closes it and pushes his entire weight against it in an effort to keep Saki at bay. Dojima, Kanji, and Yosuke quickly take notice; they don’t waste any time rushing over to help. Saki mercilessly pounds on the door, and even with the combined strength of the four, she still manages to somehow crack the door open.

Naoki gasps sharply. “S-Sis, cut it out!”

“‘WHEN I WAS IN SCHOOL, I WASN’T ALLOWED TO DO ANYTHING BUT STUDY MY ASS OFF’!” Saki’s muffled scream comes through the door, along with the sound of something else breaking.

Dojima—jostling in place as Saki kicks at the door like Bruce fucking Lee—turns frantic eyes upon Souji. “Christ, what the hell is she talking about, Souji?!”

“I-I don’t know! It’s like she’s possessed or something!” 

“Souji-kun.” Yukiko suddenly appears before him. “Move, please. Just trust me.”

Souji moves out of the way immediately, knowing that whatever plan Yukiko has schemed up is far better than his own. She places her hand against the door handle, and a few seconds later, Saki yelps in pain. The pounding and screaming ceases. The handle twists as Saki attempts to turn it again, but it quickly falls back into place as she cries once more.

“Her hands are burnt…” Dojima incredulously remarks as he looks through the small window of the door. “How in the world are you doing that, Amagi?”

There’s a loud thump, and then Kanji says, “Oh, she’s out.”

“I’ll go get a nurse,” Dojima says, then points at all of them. “Do not go in there.”

Naoki all but books it behind the man. “Y-Yeah, I’d better go get Mom and Dad…” He wipes at his eyes. “Sis… please be okay…” 

Souji grips his limp right arm in their absence, not able to hold back a pained groan. Nanako doesn’t fail to take notice of this. She looks upon him with disturbed eyes.

“Big Bro…? W-What’s the matter?”

“Partner…” Yosuke breathes. He traces a hand over the blood and wounds on Souji’s neck, then down the ones on his right arm. As he touches the rapidly swelling bump on his forearm, Souji hisses. “Shit, Souji. I think your arm is broken.” He gently holds Souji’s arm and looks around the hallway at their group of friends. “Alright, you guys stay here and watch the door. Nanako-chan, we’re gonna take Big Bro and get him fixed up, okay?”

Nanako nods firmly and loops her arm with Souji’s un-injured one. “Okay!”

An hour later, Souji walks out of an exam room with a sling, multiple containers of painkillers, bandages and tubes of antiseptic for the nail wounds, a doctor’s note ordering to stay home for the next few school days, and several nasty photographs of an X-ray. All the while, Nanako flanks him and carries his new bag of medical supplies, and Yosuke runs several steps ahead, opening up each and every door. It’s heartwarming, honestly.

In front of Room 415, there Dojima stands. Chie, Yukiko, Kanji, and Naoki once again take up residence in the chairs lining the walls of the hallway. Naoki bites at his nails in anticipation and practically jumps from his chair when Souji enters the room.

“How’s the arm?” Dojima asks, eyeing the sling with concern. 

“Hurts,” Souji grumbles as he sits down next to his friends. “Have to come back in a week for a cast.”

“Can’t I just fi-“ Yukiko says, then stops. “Um, never mind.”

“Souji-san…” Naoki says. His whole body trembles. “I’m sorry, but I have to know. I can’t wait any longer. What… what happened with Sis?”

Souji rubs his head with his free arm, thinking over everything. Tomorrow, Rise will join the team and Teddie will cross over onto our side of the TV. Exams are next week. Sometime after that, Mitsuo appears on the Midnight Channel. And what… what the hell did just happen with Saki?

He explains it as best as he can to Naoki and the others: the cryptic sentences, the inhuman strength, the cloudy eyes and foaming at the mouth, and how incredibly wrong the whole situation felt. 

Naoki’s eyes widen. “What does any of that mean? ‘When I was in school’… but she is in school…”

“Interrogation room…” Dojima mutters.

Yosuke turns to the man. “Huh? What’d you say, Dojima-san?”

“Konishi said ‘interrogation’,” Dojima says. “The first thing I think of when I hear that word is ‘interrogation room’. She made a statement at the police station the day she found Yamano’s corpse… does that mean something? I’ll have Adachi look into it since he took her statement that night.” He sighs and hands a wad of cash to Yosuke. “I don’t have time to leave this place. Will you call him and Nanako a cab?” He looks to Souji next. “I’ll load your bike into my car later, Souji. Go home and rest.”

After confirming that the rest of his friends can get home, Souji makes his way down the hallway with Yosuke and Nanako.

“Hey…” Souji mutters, pulling Yosuke closer so that he can whisper without Nanako overhearing. “Chie and Yukiko always go home together, but can you text Kanji to pair with Naoki so that no one’s alone?”

“Already on it, dude,” Yosuke says, pulling out his cell phone. “Turn your brain off now. Your leader’s gotcha.”

Souji grins. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

“Nah, that’s you. And hey, I don’t know if it will work, but I can try to heal that in the TV tomorrow.”

“What happens if it works? Then I just have to act like I have a broken arm?”

“I mean, you did just join the acting club. Call it practice.”

Souji laughs, even despite the terrible night. The consistent trend of Yosuke bringing some kind of light to his mind—especially in his lowest moments—is not lost on him. Not in the slightest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“So are you, partner.”

Yosuke guides him out the front doors and into the rain. Nanako jumps in a huge puddle near the road—distorting the reflection of the bronze street lamps within it—and Izanagi dances in Souji’s heart as a distant flash of lightning catches in the corner of his eye. Yosuke practically comes alive at the harsh gusts of wind, laughing at how it tangles Souji’s hair into a downright mess. 

Somehow, when Souji’s not alone, the rain doesn’t seem so scary.

**

In Souji’s dreams that night, his arm is unbroken, and he’s pressing his hands against something.

Something that’s crackling; something that’s charged. Static. It’s difficult to open his eyes, but when he finally does, the blurred image of a TV greets him. His hands running along the screen distort the reflected picture: two people. The first one is closest to him with their back to the TV, slowly inching closer by the second — a skirt, long hair. The second faces him and the first person, walking with their hands outstretched. Each time Souji attempts to concentrate on the face or clothes of the second person, his vision grows blurrier. Behind the two lies a dark room. It seems familiar to him, like he’s been in that same room before — alone and terrified. 

“Saw you… afternoon…” the second person says, voice choppy and distorted. Yet familiar, once more. “Cozy… Namatame…”

I know this voice. Whose voice is this?

Souji attempts to stick his hand in the TV, but it won’t go through. He knocks on it next—pounds his fists against it hard enough to crack—and still the object doesn’t give. The two people walk closer, oblivious. 

“Big Bro…” he hears from behind him.

Souji turns around. Nanako is there, dressed in Adachi’s yellow raincoat and balancing on a power line as if it’s a tightrope.

He looks down, except down isn’t down anymore. It’s up, and he’s staring at the continuance of red and black lines that smother the sky of the TV world. If he lifts his head up far enough, he can make out his chest, waist, legs, and shoes, bound by wires to the faded brown of a telephone pole. When he lets his head hang down again, Nanako’s upside-down face greets him. She doesn’t smile. She doesn’t frown. Her expression is blank. Lifeless.

“I’m going to fall,” Nanako states quietly. Her tone is a promise. “And Saki-nee will fall too. And you’ll still be right here, Big Bro.”

“N-Nanako…” Souji breathes, voice cracking wildly. “Please don’t leave me here.”

He finds that his arms are the only other part of his body not bound. He reaches his hands out to Nanako, only to see them pass through her face like a hologram. 

“I’m going to disappear into the fog,” Nanako explains. “It’s a magic trick I learned. I know you tried to save me, but it didn’t work this time.” She materializes a sticker out of nowhere and gently smooths it over Souji’s cheek. “You get a heart for trying, though.”

The sticker feels more like a brutal gash against him — coating his skin with fresh, crimson blood.

In the next instant, the power line Nanako is standing upon disappears, leaving her to free-fall into the dense smattering of fog below. Saki follows soon after. The hue of Adachi’s raincoat and Saki’s hair quickly blends in with the off-yellow aura that engulfs the TV world. Just more bodies to join the chalk outlines that haunt the floor of the backlot. 

Souji looks to his right. Nanako now hangs off a telephone pole directly next to him, holding a black cat in her arms and boring holes into him with dead, cloudy eyes. To his left, Saki does the same, though she opens her mouth to speak, and the voice that fills the air is not her own. 

“Get on your knees and beg,” Saki spits, voice so deep and distorted that it makes his ears ring, “and maybe I’ll let you out.” 

**

Souji wakes with a violent start, nearly banging his head against the bedside table as he fights the tangle of sheets in an attempt to escape. Once he does, he books it to the ajar door of Nanako’s room, quietly crying out in relief when he spots her sleeping form from the dim light of the hallway. Her breathing is faint from the distance he stands at, but still there. The hysterical little boy inside of him contemplates going inside, seeking out comfort and security in the face of his nightmare. He thinks about waking Dojima — of crawling into bed next to him just so Souji knows that someone will be there in the morning. He itches to reach for his cell phone and call Yosuke — to stay on the line and listen to his soft snoring until the first rays of sunlight wash over his bedroom.

Instead, he remembers standing at the threshold of his parents’ room at seven years old, nearly getting beaten to death simply for telling them he swears the monster under his bed just spoke to him.

He closes the door of Nanako’s room all the way and stares at the gold star and red heart stickers covering it head-to-toe until his eyes bleed.

July 10, 2011

The next afternoon, as suggested, Yosuke takes him into the TV world, informing the others that they need not tag along since they’ll only be away for a few minutes.

“Alright,” Yosuke says as they stand on the floor of the studio backlot. “Let me help you take the sling off.” He does just that. Souji can’t hide a blush at the contact. Yosuke places a warm hand on Souji’s arm where his bone awkwardly juts out. “Agh, the strongest spell I have is Diarama. Maybe I should have let Yukiko-san do—AHHHHHHH!!!!” He quickly grabs Souji and shields him behind himself, bringing out his kunai and pointing at something in the foggy distance. “WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!!!”

“Ouch, Yosuke!” Souji yelps, trying to break free. “You’ve got me by the bad arm!”

“S-Sorry!” Yosuke says. He drags Souji to the exit televisions. “Oh God, let’s go back over! Hurry!”

“Waaaaaait, Yosuke!” Teddie’s voice sounds in the distance. “Don’t just a-bear-don me!”

Yosuke stops immediately. He adjusts his glasses and looks out toward the fog again. “Ted?”

Teddie emerges from the fog, standing in front of them proudly with two hands on his hips. Hands. He’s no longer in the bear suit, but rather in his human form. And wow, now that’s a fashion choice. He wears a pair of black jeans, yellow t-shirt, brown flip-flops, and red tie. All normal things, yes, except he has the jeans on his upper half with a circle carved out for his head to fit through; his arms protrude out of the pant-legs. The t-shirt is wrapped around his waist like a towel, the flip-flops are on his hands, and the tie is fastened around his head like Rambo.

And Souji loses it — absolutely loses it. He leans his head against Yosuke’s shoulder-blade and cracks up Yukiko-esquely as his partner desperately attempts to sputter out a response to the bear. 

“W-What…” Yosuke says over the sound of Souji’s laughter. “What the hell. No, how the hell. Just… what?!”

“You really don’t recognize moi?” Teddie feigns surprise. He gives them a spin and peace sign. 

“This cannot be happening. This is genuinely my worst fucking nightmare…” Yosuke groans, vigorously scrubbing his eyes as Souji laughs harder. “Dude, stop laughing!”

**

Apparently, getting hurt in the real world does not transfer to the healing capabilities of the TV world, much to Souji’s disdain. He resigns to the fate of being virtually useless for a month or so, though he finds Yosuke’s insistence on opening doors and carrying his things at every possible moment to be a significant upside. 

After sorting out Teddie’s clothes ordeal, “introducing” him to the others, and welcoming Rise to the team, they all pay a visit to the hospital to check on Saki. Souji isn’t surprised to find Dojima, Adachi, and Naoto waiting by her door. Meanwhile, Naoki sits at a chair with his head in his hands.

“Adachi,” Dojima says, waving him over, “come with me. And kid…” He points to Naoto, then jabs a thumb over his shoulder to Souji. “You know my nephew, right? Go on and explain the situation. You’ve got my permission.”

Naoto scowls almost imperceptibly as Dojima wanders off with Adachi, then straightens up. “Souji Seta.”

“Nao… Shirogane-san. What is it?”

“Konishi is not well. She has pneumonia and a concussion. We know that much. Fortunately, none of her bones are broken. Other than that, the staff are unsure of what exactly is wrong with her. They are leaning toward some type of cognitive impairment due to the blunt force trauma to the head she experienced at the hands of the perpetrator, coupled with her… outburst toward you yesterday.”

Souji frowns, a deep worry etching its way into the corners of his mind. “How is she now?”

“Asleep. She’s been that way since she fell yesterday night.”

“She’s not…?”

Naoto shakes her head. “No. Not comatose. Just asleep.”

“What about the perp?” Yosuke speaks up.

“That’s the thing. We have no leads on them. Nothing left at the scene, no witnesses, and because Konishi will not wake, there is no other information to go off of.”

Souji shifts his weight and holds the sling tighter to him. “So you have some information, then?”

“Just what you see before you: her injuries. Indicative of blunt force trauma that was not from a fist. As for what the weapon was? Unknown at the moment. However—and keep in mind Dojima-san has allowed me to share this with you—as we look back on photographs of Konishi as she was when they found her last night, we are beginning to realize she may have been left there for quite some time after the attack.”

“What?” Chie asks. “What made you realize that?”

“For starters,” Naoto begins, listing things off on her fingers, “the blood on her body was long dry — intact since she was under an awning mostly away from the rain. Less red and more brown. The bruises on her arms, neck, and head had started to swell and redden significantly. Some had already turned blue. Lastly—and this was a physical observation from last night—her breathing and heartrate were remarkably slowed.”

“Where was she found at?” Souji asks.

“Like I said, an awning directly under the town’s water tower.”

“That damn water tower…” Souji seethes.

Naoto looks up at him from under her hat, eyebrows knitting. “Hm?” 

“Nothing. Do you know how long she was left there for?”

“Honestly…” Naoto puts a chin in hand. “I estimate approximately two hours. Maybe a bit more.”

Why in the world would Mitsuo just leave her there? Something about this is strange. If she took the place of Morooka in this timeline, then… then she should have been hung on that water tower… 

Souji takes a deep breath and shoves the mental image away. “Okay. Will you please tell us any other new information that comes up?”

“Apologies, but you’ll have to refer to Dojima-san for anything further,” Naoto says. She turns toward the direction the two detectives disappeared into and gives them a wave over her shoulder. “So long.” 

“What a weird little guy…” Yosuke mutters under his breath as Naoto turns a corner.

Kanji grumbles something incoherent. He glares at Yosuke hard enough that Souji genuinely thinks it might cut right through him like a laser.

“Do you think this has anything to do with the Midnight Channel?” Yukiko whispers, low enough so that Naoki sitting nearby cannot hear.

Chie nods. “It has to, right? I mean, who would go after Saki-senpai if not the killer coming back to…” She fidgets, quieting herself further. “To finish the job?”

“But the killer didn’t come back for me,” Rise adds, then points to Yukiko and Kanji. “Or Yukiko-senpai and Kanji, and their incidents occurred much longer ago than mine.”

Yosuke gives Souji a look — the kind of look that means he senses something is off. “If this was our killer, then he must have known the TV wasn’t going to work again. Do you think he just, you know… started from the beginning of the list?”

Souji grimaces. He glances at Naoki. It feels so wrong to talk about the case like this when Saki’s brother is suffering not even ten feet away. He approaches Naoki, crouching at his chair and placing a gentle hand on his knee. “Naoki… how are you doing?”

Naoki lifts his head out of his hands. He sniffs and hurriedly wipes his eyes. “I’m… I could be better, Souji-san. How’s your arm?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

As he watches Naoki’s face contort into ten different emotions in the span of two seconds, Souji starts to think Kanji and Yumi were on to something when they expressed their detest for hospitals. He’s been here far too many times — putting up with Sayoko’s predatory behavior just to earn extra money and Persona experience, offering stilted comfort to Kanji and Yumi, helping Adachi lift Dojima up as he bangs his head against Namatame’s doorframe… 

Nearly murdering people. Watching my sister flatline in my arms.

Souji wonders how many times he’ll have to shake his head before his thoughts refuse to vanish.

“You know…” Naoki twists a handkerchief between his fingers. Souji realizes with a lurch that it’s Saki’s. “Something tells me—deep down—that you’re the only one who can uncover my sister’s truth, Souji-san.”

“Me?”

Naoki nods. “Ever since you moved to Inaba, she’s been… so much happier. She used to just drag her feet around going to school, Junes, and the liquor store everyday—nothing in between—but now… now I feel like I barely see her around.” He laughs. “And that’s fine, because when I do see her, she doesn’t look tired at all. And even me…” His voice shifts into one of complete sincerity. “My sister’s happiness, her peace of mind… it’s changed something within me as well. I don’t think you realize it, Souji-san, but it’s like you step on darkness everywhere you walk as if it’s nothing more than a stubbed-out cigarette.”

“I…” Souji says, then falters, ducking his head at Naoki’s high words. The emotions thrashing inside of him climb into his throat and behind his eyes. “I-I haven’t done anything…” 

Kanji claps him on the shoulder. “Sure you have. You do all kinds’a shit for me everyday.”

“Yeah!” Teddie yells happily. “You did un-bear-able… umm… uh… shit…? For me, too!”

Yukiko giggles heartily. “Y-Yeah, me too.”

Chie grins. “And me!”

Rise snorts, falling into a fit next to Yukiko. “You’re like… like the king and s-shit.”

“That’s a whole lot of shit, d-dude,” Yosuke sputters, not able to hold back a laugh that’s louder than the girls’.

Naoki chuckles a bit too, and soon enough, the entire hallway is filled with the sound of his friends’ laughter. Souji wonders how it manages to physically seep its way under his skin, soothing his doubts before they have a chance to complete even a single rotation in his mind.

“Stepping on darkness”, Souji thinks with a smile. A certain, familiar warmth courses through him as he takes in his friends’ joyful expressions. You’re talking about yourself, you know.

July 25, 2011

The next few weeks pass by in a blurry haze, filled with exams and hospitals and prescription pills. Morooka still bitches at the class each morning, the police offer no indication of a suspect in Saki’s attack, and Souji is left to wonder just how Mitsuo managed to cover his tracks this time. Meanwhile, Saki spends most of her time asleep in the hospital, not having spent even one of the group’s visits lucid. It unnerves Souji to say the least, but according to her doctor, her condition has improved some.

After school on one of the last days before summer break, Souji sits at his desk and smiles as he looks upon some of the scribbles written by his loved ones on his new cast. 

“‘Break a leg’ does not mean literally - Yumi”

“Get better soon dude we miss you playing!!! - Daisuke Nagase”

“What he said ^^ - Kou”

“CHIEEEEEEE”

“♡♡♡ I LovE YOu BiG BRO!!!!!!!!! ♡♡♡”

“Ai was here :p”

“Feel better Senpai!!! ~ Rise :) ♡♡”

“I write this from a different realm. - M.”

“So that’s why you guys should get your motorcycle licenses!” Yosuke’s voice breaks through his reflection.

“Ooooh, I like that idea! It’s probably even more fun to squeeze together!” Rise bounces on her heels and turns to Souji. “What do you say, Senpai? Can I join you on your scooter?”

Souji lifts his head and glances at his friends crowded around his desk. “Uhh, sure? But I wasn’t really listening to what you all were saying.”

“The beach, partner,” Yosuke clarifies. He crosses his arms as he side-eyes Rise. “And just so you know, Rise-san, two people riding on a bike together is illegal.”

Souji’s eyebrows raise. What in the world is that tone of voice? “Yosuke, what are you talking about? I ride with you all the time.”

Yosuke blanches. “Dude!”

“What…?”

“Oh hoh hoh,” Chie snickers. “Busted!”

“Chie!” Yosuke groans, slamming a hand against her desk. “It’s n-not like that!”

“Chill, Yosuke! I didn’t say it was!”

“You implied it!”

Souji frowns. “I don’t get it…” 

Yukiko frowns as well. “Me neither.”

Rise smirks. “Oh, I get it.”

“You do?” Souji asks. “Can you elaborate, please?”

Yosuke violently shakes his head. “N-No, don’t elaborate! I’m so, so, so sorry, Rise-san! I’ll make it up to you!”

“Weeeell, I do need some new outfits, Yosuke-senpai.” Rise winks. “I sure like the stores in Okina!”

“Um, maybe like… a-a soda instead?”

“Coffee.”

“Deal.”

Rise giggles devilishly. She gives them all a wave as she turns on her heel and heads out the door. 

Kanji starts to trail behind her, then stops and leans in to whisper something to Souji. “Senpai, how the hell have you managed to charm the pants off of two people?”

Souji playfully pushes him away. “Ugh, Kanji… Don’t word it like that.”

“I mean…”

“Please don’t finish that sentence.”

Kanji snorts out a laugh behind his hand, then gives a salute and heads off. 

“Hey, partner,” Yosuke says, not meeting his eyes. “So, I’ve been thinking you probably need a new weapon for the time being. It’s not like you can carry the katana right now. Anyways, do you have some time? We can go to Daidara.”

“Ooooh, are you gonna take your bike there, Yosuke?” Chie chimes in, choking on a laugh.

Yosuke groans once more. “Go. To. Hell. Chie.”

**

They do end up visiting Daidara, and they do take Yosuke’s scooter, though Souji still has no idea what the joke was supposed to be regarding it. Yet, he has the distinct feeling it was something of importance. 

“You could use one of my kunai,” Yosuke suggests. He places the weapon in Souji’s left hand. “What do you think?”

Souji attempts to replicate Yosuke’s movements in the TV world, tossing the kunai in his hand, but ultimately fumbles it. His ears ring as it clatters to the floor. “Nope.”

“Alright, well…” Yosuke glances at the selection, eyes eventually landing on a pair of brass knuckles. “Dude, these are awesome. I mean, I’m not gonna get them for you ‘cause I don’t want you fighting an enemy in such close range, but…”

Yosuke puts them on and throws a few punches at a wood panel, eyes lighting up as the hits scrape through it over and over. 

“Careful. You’ll end up like me,” Souji teases, gesturing to his cast, though he’s greatly enjoying the sight of Yosuke before him. He knows from experience the pain behind Yosuke’s punches is downright nasty. Imagining how much more it would hurt an enemy with the knuckles on makes his stomach lurch.  

Yosuke takes one off and slides it onto the fingers of Souji’s left hand. “Here, you try.”

Souji cracks a wry grin. “Hmm. This isn’t how I imagined you would propose, partner.”

“Ggnnngh-“ Yosuke flushes red and covers his mouth. “What’s wrong with you all today?! Is there something in the air?!”

Souji pouts and punches the wood a few times. “Aww. Am I not good boyfriend material?”

He can’t help it. It’s just way too fun to tease Yosuke sometimes. 

“Jesus, Souji. Not with that lackluster punch you aren’t. Come on, let’s look at something else.”

Yosuke ends up buying him some kind of medium-length chain-whip with a small, but heavy weight on one end — easy enough to wield with one hand. It makes him feel a bit like he’s in Kill Bill or a similar movie Chie’s made him watch, (And well… he’s already had a katana) but hey, he feels cool holding it, and a lot more confident with swinging it around than throwing Yosuke’s kunai. 

“Partner, you’re seriously gonna look so cool with that in the TV world,” Yosuke enthuses as they come to a stop in front of the Dojima Residence. “I’m a little jealous.”

“You can always get one too, you know.”

“And steal your thunder? Nah.” Yosuke grins and lightly nudges him. “But listen, I’m probably going to sit you out more often from the front line ‘cause of your arm. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s alright. I understand.”

“Thanks,” Yosuke says, scuffing his foot on the ground. A moment passes before he speaks again. “Hey, do you… do you think Saki-senpai’s gonna be alright?”

Souji grimaces. He idly runs a finger over his cast. “I hope so… I can’t let this happen again.”

“Huh?”

Shit. Why is he slipping up so much recently?

“I…” Souji casts around for justification, looking up at the web of power lines above him. “I can’t let what happened with Ms. Yamano happen again. Something about this incident really bothers me, even more so than the others.”

The thing is, as far as Souji knows, the only motive Mitsuo had to kill Morooka in the last timeline was because of his expulsion from Yasogami. A good one if you’re someone whacked out enough and in dire need of attention, sure, but that still doesn’t leave him with one for Saki. Why he would go for someone so directly connected to Mayumi Yamano’s murder case? After all, Mitsuo only wanted to ride the coattails of the true perpetrator; he isn’t the true perpetrator. Though, there still remains the fact that Saki was found under the water tower — exactly where Morooka was suspended upon last time. All signs point to Mitsuo.

“Yeah,” Yosuke agrees. “I can’t stop thinking about those weird things she said…”

“At least we’ve heard confirmation from her doctor that she’s improving. We should focus on that.”

Yosuke nods, though he bounces his leg in rapid succession with crossed arms. Souji frowns. This behavior is familiar to him. It’s behavior that he witnessed over and over in the last timeline, when his partner would lament Saki’s death before his eyes, seeking answers in a hug or a fist-fight. 

“Senpai, I’m going to live. Without lying to myself, without deceiving myself.” Yosuke sighs, sprawled out and defeated on the riverbed as he gazes up at the clear sky. “Days like today, days like before when I did nothing… they’re all important days.” He sniffs, wiping his eyes as he hoarsely whispers, “They’re all days you didn’t live to see.”

Souji rubs the back of his neck. “Hey, Yosuke… Saki-senpai cares for you, you know that? She’s told me — told me that you’re a great and supportive friend. And she really meant it.”

Yosuke scoffs with an unconvinced grin. “Come on, you’re just saying that.”

“I’m not. She told me during the camping trip,” Souji says. Yosuke’s smile turns more bashful. “I mean, she’s right. You are a great friend, and… and you’re a great leader too. I couldn’t ask for better. Thank you.”

Yosuke shrugs. “Heh, well… what can I say? I learned from the best.”

Souji covers his face with his free hand as he feels a nervous laugh coming on. Yosuke really needs to stop talking to him that way, or else he is truly in danger of doing or saying something unbelievably stupid. 

Yosuke laughs. “Souji… does no one ever tell you how good you are? I can’t believe how embarrassed you are right now. I’ll make it a point to tell you more often if it gets you like this.”

Souji hurriedly shakes his head. “Ahh, no! Please don’t do that!”

“Dude.” Yosuke laughs harder. “You’re such a dork. I wish you could see your face right now.”

“Ugh. I can imagine it just fine, thanks…”

This is so bad for my heart, partner!

July 26, 2011

If Souji’s remembering his dates correctly, Mitsuo will appear on the Midnight Channel tonight. The forecast calls for rain into the evening, but as far as Souji’s aware, the police haven’t made an arrest yet, and he hasn’t heard one mention of Mitsuo’s name. Will this still affect his Shadow’s appearance? 

The day proceeds like usual. He drops by Junes on the way home to pick up groceries (And to spend more time with Yosuke, but no one needs to know that). Something’s tugging at his heart today, though, and he ends up buying a few packages of pre-cut watermelon for Nanako and extra bags of coffee for Dojima as gifts. As Yosuke directs him to a checkout lane, Souji notices cabbages are on sale, yet he turns around to the bakery and buys two jelly donuts for Adachi instead.

As luck would have it, Adachi’s just stepping out of the Dojima Residence to head home when Souji arrives. He pulls the hood of his raincoat tighter as he shuts the door, finally looking up and noticing Souji.

Adachi’s smile is strained. “Hey, kid.”

“Hi, Adachi-san,” Souji greets. “Is something wrong?”

“Ehh, a few things, really.”

Souji frowns. He moves to stand under the roof of the house to shield from the rain. “I’ve got time.”

“Well, I actually came here looking for you. I’ve got an update on Konishi’s case.”

“You do?” Souji asks. Finally. “What is it?”

“Heh, well…” Adachi trails off sheepishly. “I hope Dojima-san’s okay with me telling you this…” 

“She’s my friend. Please.”

“Right… So we’ve arrested a suspect. We were checking the clothes Konishi was wearing that night and ended up finding a set of fingerprints. Turns out it’s some high schooler.”

“Really? Who?”

“Uhhhh…” Adachi laughs nervously. “I guess word’s gonna get out sooner or later, right? Kid’s name is Mitsuo Kubo. He’s a third-year that attends some private school this side of the Samegawa.”

Souji feigns ignorance. “A student?”

“Yeah. You ever hear Konishi mention him? Any connection at all?”

“Not that I know of.”

Adachi huffs. “It’s strange. I questioned him last night and he actually admitted to Yamano’s murder and the kidnappings, yet he claims he had no involvement in Konishi’s assault.”

What…? Why would he deny it? Isn’t he hell-bent on recognition? I know he was the one who hurt Saki that night! 

“So…” Souji says, “you’ve finally found your culprit?”

Adachi grimaces. “Oof, Souji. I, uhh… wasn’t supposed to say that. Do me a favor and keep that to yourself, yeah?”

“Okay, sure. What about Saki, though?”

“Once she’s lucid enough, we’ll hear her side of things from that night. As of now, well… DNA is pretty definitive evidence in my books. I’d say Kubo’s most likely gonna go away for Konishi’s assault.”

“Yeah, well…” Souji sighs and adjusts his cast. “Good.” 

Adachi nods in agreement, then grows quiet. He looks out at the rain that drenches the streets. Souji joins him, observing how the dull glow of the street lamps almost seems to paint the slick asphalt in a certain sadness, a certain homesickness. Souji certainly isn’t homesick for Tokyo, but he wonders if Adachi may be. 

“There’s something you should know,” Adachi mumbles after a while. He fiddles with one of the strings of his coat. “I… I don’t really know what happened. The cat’s been running around my apartment like crazy since I brought him home a few weeks ago, doing just fine, but…” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and lets out a noise of frustration. “But this morning, I left for work and he was sleeping soundly. When I came home, he was in the same spot. He wasn’t awake, but… he wasn’t sleeping anymore.”

A distant rumble of thunder resonates through the streets. Despite its separation, the vibration still courses throughout Souji’s body as if it were directly overhead. “What… what do you mean?”

Adachi looks at him with a deeply pained expression. “He died, Souji.”

Souji thinks it shouldn’t bother him as much as it does. It was just a random cat. It wasn’t Oscar that died, or any of the other cats he feeds at the riverbed. It wasn’t the fox at the shrine. It wasn’t one of his friends or family members.

Saki’s still alive. Saki’s not going to die. She’s alive and she’ll recover and… and she’ll die and I’ll find her hanging off a telephone po-

Another growl of thunder — closer this time. 

Adachi places a hand on Souji’s shoulder. “I’m really sorry. I know how much you like animals.”

“Did…” Souji’s voice threatens to shake. “Did you bury him?”

“Yeah. I’m not allowed to at the apartment complex, but Dojima-san was able to get me permission at the station. He helped me.”

“Alright…”

Adachi frowns. “You gonna be okay?”

Souji swallows and quickly averts his eyes. He digs into the Junes bag he’s carrying, pulling out the box of donuts and handing them to Adachi with what he knows is an extremely unconvincing smile. “I stopped by Junes earlier. Thought you might like these.”

“Oh, hey…” Adachi takes them. He grips the box too tightly. “I do like these.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Adachi assures, yet he keeps glancing at the box like he thinks it will gnaw his arm off. “Thanks, kid. I’ll see you around.”

Souji watches Adachi’s retreating form for a long while, until the yellow of his raincoat becomes nothing but the hollow black of night. He wonders why Adachi always seems to be swallowed by the distance, rather than fade away into it.

Nanako’s spirited smile when he walks through the door is a stark contrast to the rain. “Welcome home, Big Bro!”

“Home”. This will always be his home. It wasn’t Nanako that died. Nanako is home, too. She’s not hiding behind the static of the TV screen, not tightroping a power line, not crying out for someone to give her the time of day in Heaven. She’s home.

“Hi, Nanako. I missed you today,” Souji says, stacking Dojima’s coffee in one of the cabinets. The usual spot his uncle occupies at the dining room table with a newspaper in hand remains empty tonight. 

“You always say you missed me! But that’s okay, ‘cause I always miss you too, Big Bro.”

“How was your day?”

“It was fun! We always have a party during the last days of school, and today was it! Me and my friends got each other gifts, and ate cake, and danced in the rain during recess!”

Souji’s hand brushes the gray mug in the cabinet — the one Dojima always fills for him. It’s the one that’s his, that Dojima gave to him on a cold October day so long ago, explaining to him that its original owner no longer exists in this world. He lightly traces the mug; it doesn’t have his name on it yet. There’s a part of him that feels like he doesn’t deserve the sentiment, anyway.

“That sounds fun…”

“Yeah… how’s Saki-nee?”

“The doctor says she’s improving.”

“Oh, well you should be happy then, right?”

“I should be…” Souji mutters, though it feels less like a suggestion and more like a question he’s asked himself for years now.

“What did you say, Big Bro?”

“I…” Souji trails off, opening the fridge and numbly placing the packages of watermelon inside. He’s afraid that when he turns back around to face Nanako, she won’t be there anymore — that it will be November and he’ll be alone in an empty house once more, simply talking to himself to keep sane.

Naoki’s despaired eyes flash through his mind. “Just confused parents and a dark house. Just rotting cream puffs.”

“I said I bought you some watermelon from Junes today,” Souji eventually gets out. He closes the fridge and is met with a picture of Nanako holding Oscar in her arms at the Samegawa — blinding smile and pure joy. Her backpack sits behind her, the straps of it decorated fully with gold stars and red hearts. “So make sure you eat it up before it goes bad, okay, Nanako?”

Chapter Text

July 26, 2011

Just a bit before midnight, when the rain through the view from Souji’s window begins to significantly grow in intensity, he calls Yosuke over the phone.

“Hey, partner. What’s up?”

“Hey, partner. Listen, I know who assaulted Saki-senpai that night.”

“Wait… you do? How?”

Souji closes the curtain, instead choosing to stare at his reflection in the dark of his TV. “Adachi-san came over to tell me earlier. He said that it’s a high schooler named Mitsuo Kubo. His fingerprints were found on Senpai’s clothes.”

“A high schooler… what the hell? Does he go to Yasogami?”

“No. It’s some private school on my side of the Samegawa.”

“So they arrested him, right?”

“Yeah, and…” Souji hesitates. This may be a bad idea. “Adachi-san actually showed me a picture as well. Do you remember that kid who hit on Yukiko? It’s him.”

There’s a nagging sensation in the back of Souji’s mind — one that seems to whisper that these frequent lies—however small they appear in retrospect—are bound to catch up to him one day. 

“No way! You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. One more thing, Yosuke.”

“Yeah?”

“Adachi-san slipped up. He revealed to me that Mitsuo confessed to Ms. Yamano’s murder and Yukiko, Kanji, and Rise’s kidnappings, but denied assaulting Senpai.”

“Wh-“ Yosuke starts. A loud scuffling interrupts him. “Hey, Ted! Give that back!”

“Sensei!!!” Teddie screeches over the receiver. “Did Adachy-baby really say all that?!”

Souji has to hold back a snort. Adachy-baby — what the hell goes through Teddie’s mind to think up these nicknames?

“He did, Teddie.”

“So, the bear truth is revealed! This Kubo was behind it all!”

“Waaaait a minute,” Yosuke’s voice comes through again. “Didn’t you just hear what Souji said? He said that Mitsuo denied the assault. What do you think that means, partner?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Souji replies. At least that’s the truth. “It’s strange.”

“I think so too. And you know… um, how do I say this? Like, does Adachi-san really not have a filter? After working around Dojima-san for so long, you’d think he’d have learned a lesson or two by now. I mean, you know that I run my mouth a lot, but Adachi-san is on a whole other level.”

Souji chuckles. “I think he just gets excited. He doesn’t really have any friends besides Uncle, Nanako, and me.”

“Huh…” Yosuke pauses for a long moment. “Yeah, I guess I know the feeling.”

Souji glances at the clock on his bedside table. 23:59. “Hey, it’s almost time for the Midnight Channel to come on. Let’s see if someone appears.”

July 27, 2011

Mitsuo does end up appearing on the Midnight Channel, which prompts Yosuke to gather the team at Junes the following afternoon and recount to them what Souji had told him last night regarding Mitsuo. Aside from the new information, Yukiko, Kanji, and Rise’s reactions are much the same as last time, which does its part in further feeding into the group’s belief that Mitsuo is the true culprit. Souji knows that isn’t the case, of course, but something about Mitsuo’s denial in Saki’s incident does not sit right with him. There’s only one way to find out the truth though, and once Rise locates Void Quest, Yosuke wastes no time in pursuing what they’re all searching for.

“Alright,” Yosuke says at the entrance to the dungeon. He puts a finger to his chin as he regards the team. “Yukiko-san, Kanji, and Teddie, come with me. Chie, I want you to stick to the back with Souji for a while and help him get used to fighting with a new weapon and impairment.”

Chie pumps her fists. “You got it! I’m gonna show Souji-kun so many cool tricks!”

Yosuke smirks with a bemused shake of the head. He approaches Souji as the rest of them file through the entrance. “Sorry, I know we already talked about this, but…”

Souji smiles. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“If you need anything, I told Ted to hang back a bit so that he’s closer to you and Chie. Healing, supplies, whatever. Just ask him, okay?”

A pleasant warmth seeps its way into Souji’s heart at his partner’s attentiveness. “Thanks, Yosuke.”

Souji’s starting to think that phrase should be the title of his autobiography. 

The first three floors—or “chapters”, really—are spent running around with Chie, knocking open chests, and knocking out multiple Shadows. It’s extremely difficult for Souji at first; not so much the availability of only one arm, but more so the fact that he’s having to find some semblance of control in using his non-dominant hand to wield the chain. Chie tries her hardest to offer encouraging tips, apparently gleaning most of her knowledge of chain-whips from movies, of course. Souji can see why Yosuke decided for her to accompany him, as she really is his best bet at coming to understand the weapon compared to the others.

Souji finds her wisdom especially useful right now. She and him stand before a group of three Lustful Snakes, who have just used the spell “Foolish Whisper”, effectively silencing their Personas and leaving only weapons at their disposal. Chie lands a fierce kick on the largest of them, bringing its health down to half. 

“Souji-kun!” Chie shouts across the battlefield. “I think you can finish that one off if you use the neck maneuver I taught you. Go on, try it!”

“Alright.”

Souji rolls his neck in shoulders in preparation. He swings the chain in a vertical loop for a few moments—steadily building up speed—then wraps part of it around his neck. He shifts his weight to the opposite side and watches in satisfaction as the momentum forces the chain to fling outward and into the print of “VI” scrawled on the snake’s face. 

Chie throws him a grin. “Awesome!”

Chie finishes off the next one with a wide arc of her leg. Souji gives her a thumbs-up, not able to suppress a rush of pride at having finally been able to pull off that trick. Though, it quickly dims in the next moment. The final snake suddenly wriggles its way closer to him at an alarming speed, hissing and baring teeth.

“Watch out!” Chie warns, trying and failing to kick the snake, which moves faster than even she can keep up with.

Souji considers his potential options:

1. Fold the chain in half for a greater impact and smack the Shadow across the face.
2. Try the other maneuver Chie had taught him, which involves kicking the chain out to deliver a blow.
3. Run like hell, which honestly, is the most appealing out of the three.

Option one is quickly dismissed, as the Shadow is much taller than he is and he wouldn’t be able to reach high enough. Option three would only serve as a band-aid, likely resulting in an endless chase around the dungeon. So, option two it is. Except he hasn’t been able to pull off this trick yet either, and is greatly afraid of the weapon catapulting back into his face. Still, he has no other choice at the moment.

The Shadow looms closer, mere inches from him as it continues to hiss and spit venom onto his face. Souji swings the chain once more—ignoring Chie’s screams which rapidly increase in hysteria by the second—then kicks it away with enough force to bring the Shadow to dissolution before his eyes and pool into sludge at his feet.

“Holy shit…” Souji hears from behind him. He turns to find the rest of the team; Yosuke stands with his kunai lodged in hand at an angle that can only mean he was just about to throw it. “That was cool as hell, partner!”

“Yeah, man!” Kanji chimes in behind Yosuke, a look of pure awe on his face. “That was fuckin’ insane!”

Teddie mirrors Kanji’s expression. “Beary inspirational, Sensei!!!”

“You did great too, Chie,” Yukiko compliments with a blush, coming to stand next to her friend.

Chie giggles breathlessly. “Heh. I-It was nothing!”

Yosuke puts an arm around Souji’s shoulder, and the latter senses the warmth of a Diarama spell wash over him. “You’re coming along well, dude. You up for joining me?”

“Oh,” Yukiko says, “can I stay back with Chie, then? Since you already have Teddie, I think healing will be fine.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yosuke agrees. He pulls Souji closer and flashes him a hopeful smile. “So?”

Souji glances surreptitiously at Chie, whose voice has risen three octaves since Yukiko’s newfound presence. She looks at him too, briefly — no doubt noticing the splotch of red high on his cheekbones at Yosuke’s insistent touch. 

Chie, how are we ever going to survive this torture?

“Sure thing, Yosuke.”

The next half of the dungeon proceeds relatively the same as last time. Mitsuo gushes about experience bonuses and a woman’s voice echoes off the wall, asking about arcades and coffee. When they reach floor seven, a reminder shrouded in a layer of fog presents itself at the front of Souji’s mind. He knows there’s something he should be remembering about this floor, but he can’t put his finger on what. They reach a familiar intersection, and just before Yosuke turns them onto the right side of the path, the piece of information Souji’s been trying to recall emerges from the fog. However, Yosuke starts down the path before he can interject. They lose their sense of direction—as well as the rest of the team—in less than a second.

“W-What the?!” Yosuke gripes. He turns around only to find Souji there, no sign of the others. “H-Hey, where’d everybody go?! Rise-san?!”

Silence.

“I have no clue,” Souji says, worriedly glancing in all directions. Nothing.

Yosuke frantically scans the area too, accidentally stepping forward and throwing them for a loop once more. “Gah! What the hell’s with this?!”

“Stand still, Yosuke,” Souji advises, trying to steady his own breathing. It’s likely that they just got split up. He tells Yosuke as such, who calms down a bit in response.

Yosuke takes a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right… I guess all we can do is trudge on.”

They eventually maneuver their way out of the many confusing intersections and land themselves in a long stretch of corridor right before the midway boss fight. Before they can get there, though, they encounter a swarm of Ardent Dancers — a type of Shadow the team has yet to encounter in this timeline. Not exactly a difficult Shadow, but with only two people, and Souji having to follow Yosuke’s orders instead of immediately knocking them out with what he knows is their weakness, they become a whole lot more troublesome. Yosuke ends up taking a lot of damage from them. He staggers as one of the dancers inflicts a gruesome physical attack on him. 

“Yosuke, where’s all the medicine you bought from Shiroku?” Souji asks as Yosuke uses Diarama on his turn. He’d heal Yosuke himself if he hadn’t just fused Ishtar away in favor of a more powerful Persona. 

Yosuke groans pitifully. “Ugh. Ted had all the supplies. Um, okay… try… try ice.”

The blue card that indicates Scathach shines before Souji. He brings his hand up to crush it, then hesitates at the last second. He knows exactly what these Shadows are weak to, and it’s not ice. If Yosuke passes out on him, he’ll have nothing to revive him with.

“Partner, what… what are you doing?” Yosuke asks, slurring his words. “Use ice…”

Souji attempts to convey all the apology he can muster into a meaningful stare, then switches to Mada, unleashing a Maragidyne spell on the Shadows and effectively wiping them out. Yosuke stands still in the wake—the green glow of a healing spell surrounding him—absolutely seething as he stares down Souji. After he’s finished healing himself, he immediately rounds on Souji with renewed strength.

“What the hell, Souji?!” Yosuke’s voice echoes wildly in the small corridor. Souji backs up against the wall. “I told you to use ice!”

Souji shrugs, though his heart jackhammers within his chest. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

Yosuke’s eyes grow darker. “That’s not the point!” He shoves a finger into Souji’s chest. “I told you to do something and you didn’t! I always follow your orders!”

Souji shoves him away with his good hand, voice a little shaky, but still stern. “Don’t yell at me. You know full well you’d be out cold right now if I had used ice.”

“God, Souji…” Yosuke huffs and begins to pace the corridor, gesturing with his hands as he speaks. “Get it through your head, will you? If this whole ‘me being leader’ thing is going to work, you have to actually listen to me!”

“Or what? You’ll stick me in the back like a preschooler in time-out? Is that what you’ll do?”

“May as well, since you’re certainly fucking acting like one!”

Souji laughs bitterly. “Oh, now you’ve really hurt my feelings, partner. If that means I don’t have to put up with your annoying bitching 24/7, then by all means, go for it!” 

Yosuke scoffs in response and paces the corridor for a few minutes longer, though each second feels more and more like an eternity as Souji broods against the wall. 

This time-traveling business is starting to get really, really frustrating. It’s become less and less of a series of predictions based on the last timeline, and more like swimming deeper into uncharted territory everyday. It only serves to anger Souji further, as spontaneity is not something he’s particularly fond of. It isn’t that he’s ungrateful for the chance he’s been given, but… there’s a large part of him that has always felt like he isn’t the right person for the task. Not to mention, having to willingly put his friends’ lives in danger with the kidnappings—coupled with Saki’s incident—leaves him feeling like the literal scum of the Earth.

Yosuke finally ceases his pacing. He comes to stand before Souji with crossed arms — gaze a little less wrathful, but still very much there behind his TV world glasses. 

“Look…” Yosuke sighs. “To tell you the truth, I feel like most of our time together lately has been spent at each other’s throats. I don’t really understand. Is this about being leader? Because if you want to be leader again, all you have to do is let me know. That title will always be yours.”

Souji shakes his head and frowns. “I think that’s part of the problem. I don’t want to be leader because I just don’t… don’t feel like a leader. I never have.”

Yosuke tilts his head. “Why not?” 

“Because…” Souji begrudgingly straightens up and rubs the back of his neck. “Because my life has always been spent so independently. So passively. There’s always been rules for me to follow, so I follow them. And there’s always been someone I have to listen and obey to, so I sit there, listen, and I don’t talk back. The straight and narrow path, through and through. And then I move to Inaba, and… and suddenly all kinds of people start to depend on me as their leader, as their friend — hell, they just like me even. I don’t know. I’ve never had someone listen to me before. Never even had someone that wanted to. It’s foreign, Yosuke.”

Even after nearly a year and a half of living in Inaba, the concept of being respected and appreciated by others after a life spent entirely alone is something he still cannot fully comprehend.

Yosuke smiles softly. “I know what you mean. I’m nowhere near as good with people as you are, but making genuine friends for the first time… it’s a weird feeling for me, too. But you seem to like it here. And…” He averts his eyes and smiles wider. “And I like having you here, partner. Whether you’re at my side or I’m at yours, I know both are places I’ll always want to remain.”

Souji’s heart physically aches at his sincerity. He isn’t able to hide his matching grin. “Y-Yeah, me too…”

“Anyways…” Yosuke kicks at the ground. “I’ve already told you this, but you’re not in Tokyo anymore.” He puts a hand on Souji’s shoulder. “Just… let go, Souji. Don’t you think that being in Inaba may be a chance to break away from the straight and narrow? I’d say take it and see where it leads you.”

Souji grimaces. “I don’t know… Listen, can I ask you something?”

“Of course. Go for it.”

“Do you have a lot of regrets?”

“Regrets…?” Yosuke repeats. He looks off into the distance as he ponders this. “Well, yeah. I think everyone does.”

“If you… if you woke up one day, suddenly weeks, months, or years in the past with the knowledge of those regrets and the chance to fix them, what would you do?”

“Huh… I mean, sounds like you wouldn’t really get much of a choice. I think you’d just be forced to fix them in that situation. You think about this kinda stuff a lot?”

“Yeah,” Souji admits. If only Yosuke knew it wasn’t really a hypothetical. “I wonder if you should still follow the straight and narrow path, even then.”

Yosuke snorts. “Why would you? You’d be a time-traveler, dude. Literally nothing about that is straight and narrow.”

Souji frowns once more. He stares down at his cast, thinking of Saki in her hospital bed. Yosuke’s right. Because of his amends, this timeline is one that has been transformed almost entirely into the arbitrary. Mitsuo supposedly didn’t attack her, and he doesn’t think Namatame did either, considering how last time he never came back for his victims after they were rescued. Then… who is it? 

Souji stares at the wall across from him as he ponders this. The arches of yellow bricks intermixed along the blue seem too bright in that moment — too sharp; too compelling. The gold stripe residing between the TV static motif on the side of Yosuke’s glasses does as well.

If only I wasn’t so stuck in my patterns of thinking, Souji thinks. Maybe then I could figure it out.

“Hey, Souji…” Yosuke mumbles after a moment, looking sheepish. “I’m, uh… sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay. I owe you an apology, too. I really was acting like a brat, so it was deserved.” 

“Dude, no it wasn’t. I don’t like yelling at you,” Yosuke says, eyes serious. “But you were kinda being a brat. I’ll give you that.” Souji smirks. Yosuke mirrors the action as he tosses his kunai in hand. “Well, once we find the others, should we head home or continue on?”

“Let’s try to finish this off today so we can get some answers about Saki-senpai.”

“You got it, partner.”

Eventually, they regroup with the others and climb their way up to the highest floor, coming face-to-face with Mitsuo and his Shadow.

“W-Who are you guys?” Mitsuo asks, turning around to face the team. “What are you doing here?!”

“Man, shut the hell up!” Kanji yells. “We came lookin’ for your sorry ass! Now spill. You’re the killer, aren’t you?”

Mitsuo rolls his eyes and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Of course I am. Yamano had it coming, you know. She really pissed me off!”

“What about Saki Konishi?” Yosuke asks. “What’d you do to her?”

“I didn’t touch that Konishi chick!” Mitsuo barks. “Where’d you get that from, huh? That detective who locked me in interrogation all night?!”

Souji tilts his head. “What do you mean you didn’t touch her? Your fingerprints were found on her clothes.”

“Tch,” Mitsuo scoffs and looks Souji up and down in contempt. “Have I seen you somewhere before?”

“Just answer me.”

“Look, I don’t know why my fingerprints were on her, alright? I didn’t have anything to do with her! Whoever attacked her half-assed it. I finish the job, dammit! I’ll tell you what: I think someone was trying to copy me and steal my glory.”

Yukiko scowls. “There’s no way it couldn’t have been you! You had a reason to go after all of us.” She gestures to herself, Kanji, and Rise. “You kidnapped Saki-senpai in April too, right? Because she found Ms. Yamano’s body? And now you’re just going down the line of the kidnapping victims who have been rescued!”

Mitsuo grins nastily. “Oh yeah, I went after you guys alright. But don’t lump me in with Konishi’s perpetrator. That’s sloppy work. That copycat bastard has nothing on the likes of me.”

Damn, he’s really serious… Souji thinks incredulously. Then why’d he admit to Saki’s murder last time? Because it was complete?

Soon after, the battle with Mitsuo’s Shadow begins. It’s every bit as frustrating as before, dodging bombs and steadily hacking away at the armor until his true form is revealed. It takes a long while, but finally Kanji drags Mitsuo through the exit televisions and into the Junes electronics section. 

“Gnnnhgh…” Mitsuo groans from his spot on the floor, dazed. “How did we get here?”

Chie stomps her foot. “Don’t play any more games with us! You know exactly how we got here!”

“Kubo,” Yosuke says, voice stern. “Tell us now, once and for all. Were you behind Ms. Yamano’s murder, the kidnapping incidents, and Saki Konishi’s assault?”

Mitsuo gives a thumbs-up. “Bingo. All except Konishi. I didn’t even touch her with a ten-foot pole.”

“Then who did?” Teddie wonders.

Mitsuo laughs weakly. “Now you want my help, huh? Shouldn’t you be asking yourselves who kidnapped me?”

Yosuke groans. “That’s the last thing on my mind! If you know something about Saki, then tell us, dammit! What I’m more interested in is why’d you even do all of this? I want to hear it from your mouth!” 

“Hey.” Mitsuo points at Yosuke. “You’re the leader of this team, right? I can tell. You like games, too?”

“Not this kind of game…” 

“You played Silent Hill 2?”

“Yeah, so?”

Mitsuo laughs again, more hysterically. “Then ‘Don’t get all holy on me, James. This town called you, too. You and me are the same’.”

Kanji yanks Mitsuo up by the collar of his shirt. “You really don’t know when to shut your stupid-ass mouth up, do you?!”

“Hah, you gonna kill me?” Mitsuo smiles joyously despite the situation. He looks not at Kanji, but solely at Yosuke. “Is that how it works? You throw me into the TV? Come on, do it then!”

Yosuke clenches the inside of his arms, nearly convulsing with how hard he’s trembling as Mitsuo chants, “‘I killed a human being’” over and over in the background. 

Rise gently pulls Kanji away. “That’s not how it’s going to work for you, Kubo.”

“Yeah,” Kanji agrees. He drops Mitsuo back to the floor and rolls his arm. “All that’s left is for you to face the music. And until you understand what exactly it is that you’ve done, only then can you kick the bucket.”

Mitsuo sinks down. He lies against the tile and clutches his stomach as he chokes on his laughter, even louder than the wail of police sirens growing nearer and nearer.

“Guess it’s game over, then…”

**

After Mitsuo is taken to the police station, the team gather around the usual table at the Junes food court to discuss everything.

“So I guess the case really isn’t over…” Chie grumbles. “At least Adachi-san seemed happy.”

Yosuke glumly crosses his arms. “Yeah, now that one of their culprits is behind bars. Is there really another guy out there…?”

Kanji rubs at his head. “Can we even trust what Kubo told us about Saki-senpai? Could just be another fuckin’ lie.”

“Or maybe everything that he told us was a lie…” Rise mutters, staring down at the table in thought. When she looks back up, everyone’s eyes are fixed on her, interested. “Oh! Well, it’s plausible, right? I mean, this is all coming from a kid who thinks toying with people’s lives is nothing more than a game. And remember what he said? ‘Is that how it works? You throw me into the TV?’ It’s like he was clueless about how we all were kidnapped in the first place.”

“I think you could be onto something, Rise,” Souji says, genuinely impressed. He didn’t think any of his friends were going to catch on that something wasn’t right, but with Saki’s inclusion, now things have changed. “Something that he continued to bring up was fame or glory. It makes me wonder… was he really behind everything, or did he just say he was?”

Rise blushes and twirls a lock of hair. “You think so, Senpai?” 

Souji smiles weakly, almost expecting her to reach across the table and latch onto his arm. Not that he minds the affection from his friends, but for most of them—most—he prefers it in a strictly platonic way. Speaking of affection, for whatever reason, he’s noticed lately that Yosuke’s been getting agitated whenever Rise flirts with him — usually evident by a combination of rolling his eyes, openly glaring at either him or Rise, and loudly directing the train of conversation elsewhere. He knows Yosuke likes Rise, but does he have to get so jealous over it? It’s not like Souji’s returning the flirting, or ever has any intention to.

“Anyways,” Yosuke says sharply. He directs one of those familiar glares at Souji this time. “Let’s all keep these ideas in mind and watch out for anyone who could fit the profile of a potential kidnapping victim. If another one occurs, then we’ll know for sure whether or not Mitsuo has been behind them, considering he’s in custody now.”

“Yosuke-kun,” Yukiko says, “Mitsuo said something else too. ‘Shouldn’t you be asking yourselves who kidnapped me?’ Come to think of it, I never saw him on TV before he appeared on the Midnight Channel.”

“Yeah, Yukiko’s right!” Chie agrees. “I never saw him either! And nobody in town seemed at all interested in him until he was arrested for Saki-senpai’s incident.”

Yosuke nods as he takes in their information — the perfect picture of a calm leader. Souji’s beginning to think maybe Yosuke should remain in this position for the foreseeable future instead of himself. 

“Like I said,” Yosuke begins, “if another kidnapping occurs, then it will be pretty damning proof that Mitsuo hasn’t been responsible for them. If he isn’t, then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. All we can really do is wait.”

The team talk for a while longer, then gradually break off into pairs to return home. Yosuke and Teddie hang behind as Yosuke’s father asks them for help with something. 

Before Rise leaves, she cups her hands around her mouth and indicates for Souji to come closer so she can whisper. “The summer festival is coming up. It’d be really awesome if just me and you could go together on one of the days. Think about it, ‘kay?”

Souji rubs the back of his neck. “Okay, I will. Have a good night, Rise.”

As Rise runs to catch up with Kanji, Souji turns to find Yosuke fixing him with yet another cold stare. He taps his index finger against crossed arms in blatant irritation.

“Um…” Souji says. “Yosuke?”

Yosuke immediately straightens up. He unfolds his arms and quickly transforms his annoyed expression into something neutral. “Huh?”

Does he not even realize he’s doing it?

“Um, you know I don’t like Rise, well… like that, right?”

“Wh-Wh-Wh…!” Yosuke stutters. He clutches his headphones as his face goes red. “And why would I care about that?!”

Souji raises an eyebrow. “Because whenever she even says one word to me, you give me this… this look like I’ve just told you I murdered your family. If you like her so much, then go for it, alright? I’m not interested. Nothing’s holding you back.”

“I think a lot of things are holding me back, actually…” Yosuke mumbles, so quietly that Souji thinks he wasn’t even supposed to hear it.

“What?”

“N-Nothing. I’ve gotta get to work before Dad comes looking for me. See you later, partner.”

“Uh, okay… bye?” Souji doesn’t even get the second word out before Yosuke’s booking it inside the store, leaving him thoroughly confused.

Weird… This whole timeline is so damn weird.

August 5, 2011

At the bottom of the hill overlooking town, Souji swallows a sedative and takes several deep breaths as the dead summer heat weighs down against his skin. Several children run wildly across the hill, screaming nonsense about Phoenix Ranger Featherman R. And on one of the picnic benches looking out at them, there Eri Minami sits.

This… is one social link he’s been actively avoiding, even more so than Sayoko’s. He didn’t finish it last time — too angry and agitated every time he got home from work to continue on with it any longer, and even in this timeline, he’s only talked with Eri twice. But this chance he’s been given was rooted in the idea that maybe he would get over his fears, out of his own spiraling head, and into the truth. Ugly or not. With that in mind, Souji trudges uphill.

The kids do their usual skit of pulling him in every direction, making him carry them on his back, and asking the most inane, but simultaneously the most hilarious questions ever. Before he even realizes it, it’s time for them to head home. Like always, Yuuta is reluctant to leave.

“Hey, mister!” Yuuta whispers to Souji. They’re a good distance away from the bench where Eri sits. “If you distract her, I can hide somewhere and then I won’t have to go home! Oh, but you have a backpack, right? I can probably fit in there!”

“You know we can’t do that,” Souji says. “Both of us would get in trouble.”

Yuuta sighs. “Who cares if we get in trouble? It’s better than going home.”

“Yuuta, why is it that you don’t want to go home with Eri?”

“‘Cause she never plays with me,” Yuuta admits. He sits down cross-legged in the grass and pouts. “All she wants to do is watch TV while I play with toys alone in the dark! I ask her to play with me and she’ll make up some excuse. I… I just miss Dad…”

“Did Dad play games with you?”

“Mhm. All the time,” Yuuta says, then pauses, thinking deeply about something. “Mister, why did Dad have to leave to work in China? He used to tell me his favorite place was here with me, so… so why couldn’t he just stay?”

That familiar disquiet pools in Souji’s stomach. It almost makes him reach for another sedative. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Yuuta-kun!” Eri calls, waving at him from the bench. “Time to go!”

Yuuta begrudgingly makes his way over to her. Souji follows behind, likely sharing the same exact dejected look on his face that Yuuta wears. 

“Well, I’ll see you next time, Souji-kun,” Eri says, starting to make her way down the sidewalk. Yuuta is already several steps ahead of her.

“Wait,” Souji interjects. “Um, did you… did…” He can’t even look her in the eyes. “Did you know that Yuuta likes Featherman a lot? I found this coupon online.” He takes said coupon out of his backpack and hands it to her. “If you take it to the toy store in Okina, you can get a Featherman figure for free.”

Eri’s eyes widen. “Oh. I, um… I didn’t know he liked Featherman that much…”

“Yeah and, you know… it’s not that much fun to play alone. Featherman isn’t hard. You battle and pose and that’s about it.”

“I see,” Eri says. She clutches the coupon close to her chest. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you want kids in the future?”

Surprisingly, this is a question Souji’s thought about quite extensively, especially in the recent years. He likes kids—likes them a lot—and oftentimes he truly believes that they are the only people he can fully understand and empathize with. Nanako, Shu, and Yuuta — he sees himself in all of them, knows that they look up to him and seek out his guidance… however, somehow he feels like actually being a father would result in nothing but catastrophe. There are a lot of people that say you are your parents. He’s not sure he wants to find out if that’s true or not. 

“I haven’t really thought about it,” Souji lies. 

Eri nods. “Hmm, that’s probably for the best. You’re so young, after all. Thank you for the coupon, Souji-kun. Have a good evening.”

Souji watches them go. The sidewalk below the hill is filled with children’s chalk drawings of animals and action heroes. Eri stomps through them—unaware—running to keep up with a son who very obviously wants to be as far away from her as possible. The gap between the two is jarring; palpable… 

Familiar, Souji thinks, shoving his hands in his pockets with a frown as the sun quickly sinks below the horizon behind him.

And just like Yuuta, he’s alone in the dark.

August 20, 2011

The long summer days quickly breeze by, mostly spent working at the daycare or at Junes with Yosuke and Teddie. Before Souji knows it, the summer festival is upon him once more. He sees a few familiar faces as he walks the stalls with Yosuke, Kanji, and Teddie as they wait for the girls. Kou and Daisuke shove meat skewers into their mouths ravenously at one of them, while Yumi and Hanako throw darts at balloons at one a bit further away. Ayane and Ai bow before the shrine in a silent wish, and Hisano, Shiroku, Daidara, and the fox sit contentedly on one of the benches near the entrance, simply watching the events unfold.

The girls join them not much later, and following closely behind them are Nanako, Dojima, Naoto, Naoki Konishi, and… who is that?

“Saki-senpai!” Yosuke shouts. He smiles wide as he steps closer to greet her. “W-When did you get out of the hospital? I didn’t hear anything about it! How are you?!”

Just like the other girls, Saki looks absolutely beautiful — nearly unrecognizable with her hair fixed in a French braid. She wears a pastel yellow yukata with white and red flowers. 

Saki giggles and pats Yosuke on the shoulder. “Good to see you too, Yo.” She nods at the rest of the boys, then pauses as she reaches Teddie. “Um…?”

“S-Saki-chan!!” Teddie cries obnoxiously. “You really don’t know who I am? Even you?”

Teddie’s whole ordeal is ignored for now, as there are too many people present outside of the Investigation Team to go into it. Saki, Dojima, and Naoto take turns recounting the last few days: Saki woke up on the afternoon of August 18th, spent it and the 19th talking with the police and visiting with her family, then requested to go to the festival when she was discharged this morning, where Dojima took her and Naoki to meet up with the girls. However, because the universe just wants to taunt Souji—he’s convinced of it—Saki also explains how she has no clue who her attacker was. She can’t confirm or deny it was Mitsuo, as she states the perpetrator covered her eyes with a cloth and didn’t utter a word as they beat her. As for the… possession, (And that’s really the only way Souji knows how to describe it) Saki tells them that she has no recollection of it and no clue what her cryptic words could have meant, though she apologizes to Souji profusely, glancing at his cast with guilty eyes. Fortunately, she hasn’t had any more episodes since then.

Dojima and Naoto leave together soon after, murmuring in hushed tones as they make their way into the shopping district. The rest of them split off into twos or threes; Saki beckons for Souji to pair with her. They end up at the booth that holds the BB gun shooting game and take turns aiming at the cutouts of the gold stars upon white cardboard before them. 

“I wanted to tell you something, Souji-kun,” Saki says, positioning her gun and looking into the sight. “And I don’t think I should tell the others just yet since Nanako-chan and my brother are also here, but… another strange thing happened that night. Something I think could help us in our investigation.”

“What happened?”

Saki fires a few times, then the booth’s employee holds up the cutout so she can view her results. All of her bullets hit right along the border between the white spaces and the gold star.

“When the perp was… um, hitting me over and over in the head,” Saki begins, handing the gun to Souji, “I saw Inari Ōkami. I know, like, we’re not supposed to be able to summon our Personas on the other side, but it’s true. She was very faint, but nonetheless there. She was protecting me.”

Souji turns to her with wide eyes. “How?”

Saki shrugs. “I don’t know. But let me tell you something: as soon as she appeared, the perp immediately stopped and fled. I don’t remember much after that, so I’m assuming that’s when I blacked out.”

Souji ponders this as he aims the gun with one hand at the cutout, firing off shot after shot.

Mitsuo is pretty much out of the picture, so let’s think about Namatame again. I kind of doubt he was involved, but could he have somehow seen Inari Ōkami due to having the power to throw people into the TV?

Souji finishes his turn and examines his results. Every single one of his bullets missed the tiny gold star, and instead imprinted themselves into the white spaces surrounding it.

Saki frowns as she looks at the results. “You’re way off the mark.”

Namatame is out too, then, Souji deduces.

“That’s not even the weirdest part,” Saki says, once again aiming and firing. “You know how they say when one of your senses is dulled, the others are heightened? Well, the whole time when the cloth was over my eyes, I could just… just smell the perp. And it was so overbearing — so pungent and familiar. Almost like I’ve breathed in the same scent before. It makes me think… maybe it’s someone we know, Souji-kun.”

The employee holds up Saki’s cutout. Every single one of her bullets hit inside of the gold star, dead-center. Not even an inch off.

Souji can’t tear his eyes away from it.

“Y-You think?” Souji asks, hands beginning to shake as the gold of the star, the bright yellow of Saki’s yukata, and the dull amber of the lanterns lining the stalls once again seem to emit an ominous glow, just like in Mitsuo’s dungeon.

“Yeah. Inaba is so tiny,” Saki says. She picks out her prize and moves on to the next stall. “Something tells me the person we’re chasing after isn’t even running away from us.”

**

Souji stays up until three in the morning that night writing down every fact he knows about Ms. Yamano’s killer. It has to be the same person as Saki’s perpetrator. It has to be.

It is not Taro Namatame
It is not Mitsuo Kubo
They killed Mayumi Yamano
They want Saki Konishi dead
They have access to the TV
They live in Inaba
They know where I live
They know me

Souji’s pencil breaks on the last line. He throws the object to the floor and shoves the paper deep inside one of his desk drawers. He looks behind him at the TV. If he strains his ears hard enough, it almost sounds like someone is calling out to him from the inside. He swears it sounds like his own voice, yet he forces himself not to believe it. When he turns back around, the curtain hanging from his window seems too still, too stiff, despite his fan being on the highest setting. 

August 23, 2011

The beach trip proves to be quite eventful thanks to Kanji’s swimsuit mishap, but still enjoyable nonetheless. Souji spends most of it deeply concentrated on building sandcastles with Teddie in order to avoid blatantly staring at the rare sight of a half-naked Yosuke under the sun. Near the end of the day—just as the sun is beginning to set—Souji joins Yukiko under the fence that overlooks the beach, content to watch the rest of their friends throw each other in the water or race in the sand, and—inevitably—eat shit doing so.

“Souji-kun…” Yukiko says, an uncharacteristic look of worry in her eyes. “I’ve been putting this off today because I feared it would ruin the trip, but… I have to tell you something.”

Souji braces himself. He’s really starting to hate that phrase. “Alright.”

Yukiko clears her throat. “Do you remember when you and Saki-senpai told us about your shared dream? With the curtains, and the moving floors, and the…” She swallows and looks toward the ocean. “The sea?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I think I had a dream about that place the other night.”

Souji freezes in place. “You what?”

Yukiko bites at her nails. “Being here just keeps reminding me of it. I’m sorry.”

“What… what happened in it?” Souji asks, trying to keep the fear in his voice at bay, though it traitorously cracks anyway.

“Ugh… I don’t like this…” Yukiko mumbles. Souji realizes then, that aside from facing her Shadow, this is the first time he’s ever seen Yukiko so thoroughly bothered. “It was just… just so… terrible. Like Senpai said, I saw you running around and pulling aside the curtains. The entire time, over the sound of waves in the background, I heard this voice screaming at you. A woman’s voice. I don’t remember everything, but I think she was saying something about grades and colleges. And… and stuff like, ‘Don’t ask for my help in the future, Souji’.”

Souji’s eyes widen; his breathing becomes labored through the sudden tightness in his chest and throat. There’s no possible way Yukiko can know about that!

Yukiko takes a deep breath. “Though what bothers me the m-most… is that no matter how fast I ran to keep up with you, when I finally came close enough to reach out and touch you, my hands would pass right through your body and return with blood on them.” She sniffs. “Chie, umm…”

“Chie…?” Souji asks. He discreetly scratches the side of his face to hide the fact that his lower lip is trembling.

“Well, yesterday I told Chie about the dream, and she said… she said that she also had a similar dream. Hers was worse than mine. She also heard the voice, and one time, you opened a curtain and there was a woman Chie didn’t recognize standing there. That same woman… s-she came toward you, raised a hand and-“

“Stop,” Souji firmly interjects. He grips the fence tight. “Stop, please. I don’t want to hear anymore.”

“Souji-kun… do you know who she wa-“

Souji shakes his head. “No, no. I-I don’t. Dammit, not again!” He frantically checks the pockets of his swimsuit. Nothing. “I don’t h-have one with me.”

“Have what? What’s the matter?”

“I’m freezing, Yukiko. A-And I don’t have… I don’t have… ugh.”

It’s no use; it’s time to give up. Souji slouches against the fence with no choice other than to succumb to panic.

There’s no way she can know about that! There isn’t! What else does she know? And Chie? Now that they realize their seemingly unshakeable friend folds at the slightest nod toward his past, will they laugh and leave me behind? Will they-

“You’re cold?” Yukiko asks. She slowly reaches forward and places a hand on his good arm. “How about now?”

The sensation of peaceful warmth travels down Souji’s arm — calm, soft, safe. “H-How are you doing that?”

“I’m not really sure. I only realized I could do it in July. Chie did too, though her hands are cold instead. It must stem from our Personas’ abilities.”

Souji tries to say something else, then realizes he physically can’t; his throat is too choked up and his lower lip and teeth are still trembling rather violently. So, he looks to the ocean once more, studies where the sky meets the line of water, and creates lists in his mind instead. Anything to divert his attention from poisonous thoughts and even more poisonous memories. 

Zio, Zionga, Ziodyne. Garu, Garula, Garudyne. Agi, Agilao, Agidyne.

Yukiko moves her hand from Souji’s arm to his face. He nods gratefully, savoring the warmth against his skin.

“Bufu, Bufula, Bufudyne…” Souji’s finally able to speak, though his voice is strained. “H-Hama, Hamaon. Mudo, Mudoon. Dia, Diarama, Diarahan.”

“Megido, Megidolaon,” Yukiko adds. “Um, Morning Star…?”

Souji laughs weakly. “Tarukaja, Matarukaja. Dekaja, Dekunda. I’m ridiculous, aren’t I?”

Yukiko pinches his cheek. “Don’t say that. If it helps you, then that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you…”

After a few minutes pass—filled with nothing but the sounds of his friends’ laughter below him, the rolling waves, and his own breathing gradually slowing down—sweat finally begins to collect on Souji’s hands. He almost laughs at the irony of it all — how it should have done so long before now, being at the beach in the dead-middle of summer and all.

“In our first year,” Yukiko says, “Chie started to get them really bad. Getting up and running around was one of the only things that helped her. It’s gotten better with time, but you know, some things don’t always fade away. I’m sure if you wanted to talk to someone who understood panic attacks a lot more than I do, Chie would gladly help.”

Souji sits up from his slouch. “It’s just… so embarrassing…”

Yukiko removes her hand “That makes sense. But…” She looks at him seriously, eyes shining. “We all love you, Souji-kun. We really do, from the bottom of our hearts. You can rely on us for anything at all.”

And that’s enough for tears to gather in Souji’s eyes, streak down his face, and ground him into the moment. It’s solely because—aside from Nanako’s reassurances—he has no idea how long it’s been since someone last told him that they loved him. Honestly, the total amount of love he’s been handed in his lifetime has never been anything larger than a drop in the Pacific currently before him. So to sit here right now—in this moment—and watch Yukiko’s lips curl around the word “love” with a kind of reverence he’s only seen given to the solemnity of a funeral, or an early morning sunrise after a night filled with nothing but rain… it’s something incredibly special.

“I love you too…” Souji whispers. He wipes at his eyes; the catharsis practically spills onto his hand. “I love you all so much.”

Yukiko runs a careful thumb over Souji’s hand as the last rays of sunlight wash over them. “I don’t want to think about the dream again. It’s… it’s just a dream, after all.”

The corner of Souji’s lips slowly twitch upward as Yosuke gets pulled under by a wave. “Just a dream.”

August 30, 2011

After the emotionally exhausting beach trip, the team and Naoki Konishi meet up on the hill to watch the fireworks like last time. Yosuke angrily recounts the story of how Teddie flaunted his “magazines” at breakfast that morning, which just makes Souji laugh. Honestly, it’s not really Teddie’s fault. He knows virtually nothing about the other side of the TV, and what he does know, he simply gleans from the rest of them. Still, it’s not Yosuke’s fault either, as Souji’s been told multiple mind-numbing times—in this timeline and the last—where exactly he keeps his porn stashed away, and it’s most certainly not out in the open.

“I keep it right here,” Yosuke proudly tells him, gesturing to the tiny gap between his dresser and the wall like it’s an art piece in a museum. “Feel free to take a look anytime!”

“Tell me you side with me, partner!” Yosuke pleads. “If someone waved your… stuff around Dojima-san, you’d get pissed too, right?”

“I suppose,” Souji says. “But I don’t actually own any of that stuff.”

Yosuke looks genuinely scandalized — like he isn’t the one rambling about literal porn right now. “What? Why not?” 

Souji decides not to answer that question. Yosuke wouldn’t appreciate his answer one bit. Luckily, Dojima and Nanako choose that moment to join them, alongside Naoto, who Kanji had invited due to Souji’s insistent persuasion.

“Nanako-chan!” Rise squeals. “You look adorable!”

Saki waves. “Hi, Nanako-chan!”

Nanako gives them all a wave and giggle, coming to stand next to Souji and clutch his good hand.

Naoto tips her hat. “Hello, everyone.”

“Hey, Naoto-kun!” Chie says. “We’re glad you could make it!”

“Yes, thank you all for inviting me,” Naoto says, though she’s looking straight at Kanji.

“U-Uh, um…” Kanji’s voice cracks as he blushes bright red. Souji gives him an inconspicuous pat on the back. “Uh, right! Thanks for comin’!”

As the fireworks begin, Souji situates Nanako on his shoulders so that she can see better. She “Oohs” and “Aahs” at the vast rainbow of colors bursting across the night sky, and next to him, Yosuke and Dojima laugh at her enthusiasm. Further on his right, Chie and Yukiko share mirror looks of excitement as they watch the sky intently. Next to them, Teddie spreads his hands wide and rocks from side to side, screaming “Ted-mayaaaa!!” as each firework explodes. On Souji’s other side, Rise inches closer to him by the second, which he dutifully acts like he doesn’t notice. Beside her, Saki and Naoki laugh joyously and point out their favorite fireworks, and Naoto observes the colors with a slight, barely there smile on her face. Kanji doesn’t look at the sky once, too enamored with staring at Naoto.

Same, Souji thinks, glancing at Yosuke’s wondrous, silent expression as reds, greens, and purples paint the reflection in his eyes. 

“So pretty, huh?” Souji whispers. “Which color is your favorite?”

“I like the gold ones,” Yosuke says. He points one out. “They remind me of being a kid. In the summer, sometimes my parents and I would vacation to a lakehouse with this long dock that stretched out to the water, and we would sit at the end of it and watch the fireworks all night. Then, when they dissipated, you could see them fall in the reflection of the lake. It was beautiful.”

“Sure sounds like it…” Souji says, and he’s utterly embarrassed to find that his tone comes out much, much softer than he intended. 

“Yeah… What’s yours?”

“I guess…” Souji trails off, nearly getting lost in Yosuke’s proximity, in his overwhelming desire to lean down and meet his lips that gradually trail more and more upward by the second, “the gold ones, too.”

His words are punctuated with several flares of said color casting the side of Yosuke’s face in a warm haze, which serves to only further escalate the merciless pull in his heart that forever screams Yosuke Hanamura. If he was a stronger man, he could burn the overbearing weight of insecurity to mere pieces in the fireworks before him and kiss Yosuke like he wants to. Instead, he pretends like Rise’s pinky finger grazing his own, his many friends and uncle in his field of vision, and Nanako’s leg obscuring his lips from her spot on his shoulders, are barriers too powerful.

“Yosuke-nii,” Nanako suddenly says. She pokes Yosuke in the head a few times to get his attention. “Did you do it yet?”

Yosuke rubs his nose and looks up at her. “Um, no. Not yet.”

“Do it, dummy!” Nanako scolds.

Souji laughs. “Woah, she’s really serious. You better hurry and do whatever ‘it’ is.”

“Sheesh!” Yosuke whines. “Talk about a sibling combo attack…”

Nanako and Dojima are the first to leave, as Nanako ends up falling asleep on Souji’s shoulders. Teddie practically begs Kanji to let him sleep over — something about how “Yosuke is gonna try to strangle me in my sleep! You gotta let me stay, Kanji! You gotta!”. Eventually, everyone has dispersed, leaving only Yosuke and Souji leaning over the fence at the top of the hill. Yosuke seems a bit nervous over something.

“I’ll walk you home,” Souji offers.

Yosuke nods. “Thanks, partner. Um, soooooo remember the summer festival?”

“It was only ten days ago, Yosuke. Not ten years.”

Yosuke nudges him. “Jerk. Anyways, Nanako-chan and I were playing the fishing game, you know? Dude, I’ve never even played it before, but apparently I got the highest score since… well ever? And so I got to pick from the really rare prizes, and…” He digs around in his pocket for a moment, then places something soft in Souji’s left hand. “And um… I-I got you that. We’ve all been pretty busy lately, so I just, uh, haven’t been able to give it to you yet, heh.”

Souji looks down. In his hand sits a small, stuffed Pusheen, wearing headphones and holding a gaming console. It isn’t big, but that doesn’t change the fact that Souji knows this particular Pusheen is hard to come by, and when you can find it, it’s very expensive. 

“Yosuke!” Souji can’t help but shout, lips splitting into a huge grin. “This… this is…!”

“Do you like it?”

“Partner, I love this,” Souji enthuses. He admires the plush for a long moment, then looks back up at Yosuke. “They don’t even make this one anymore. But why did you… I mean, don’t they have a literal electric guitar you can get from that booth? You shouldn’t have wasted your win on this.”

Yosuke shrugs. “It’s not a waste. I’m fine with the guitar I have now. I thought you just… you know, deserved something nice.”

Souji looks down at the plush once more, trying to figure out why in the world Yosuke would get this for him. He could have anything he wanted off the rack, like the guitar, or new headphones, or probably even a nice phone. And still Yosuke decided that his win would be spent on him. 

Souji nearly finds himself at a loss for words. He opts to throw his good arm around Yosuke in a tight hug while he shakes his head in disbelief. “Thank you so much. I-I love…” He comes dangerously close to saying you. “It.”

Yosuke rubs his back. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Souji breathes, throat threatening to close up with emotion. “I really, really… love it.”

I always will, he thinks, wishing he could stay in this embrace forever, wishing he had the perfect courage everybody seems to believe he does, and could tell Yosuke outright instead of masking it through underlying meanings.

Souji reluctantly pulls back from the hug. “Sorry. I know you said that’s for girls.”

Yosuke looks genuinely confused. “When did I say that?”

“Oh, um… maybe I just thought you did. My memory hasn’t been the best since Rise’s dungeon.”

“Could be all those TV world drugs. Don’t overdo it, okay, Souji?”

“Okay.” Souji smiles, then holds up the Pusheen to Yosuke. “Look, he’s got headphones just like you.”

Yosuke laughs. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna name him after me!”

September 1, 2011

“Hey, Souji,” Dojima says over dinner a few nights later. “Did you happen to see Shirogane at school today?”

“Naoto? Yes, I saw him,” Souji answers. “He said there’s been less to do at the station lately because of Mitsuo’s arrest, so that’s why he enrolled at Yasogami.”

“Yeah. Weird kid, huh?”

“Dad,” Nanako scolds, shoving a piece of sushi into her mouth. “That’s not nice.”

“He’s not weird,” Souji says, absently watching the forecast on TV. “Just misunderstood, I think. Lonely.”

Just like me. Just like all of us.

“Hmm,” Dojima grunts. “To be honest, I’m glad to have him outta my hair.”

Souji stiffens a bit. He fumbles the hold on his chopsticks. “Right… he’s just a ‘brat’ to you…”

“Huh? You got something to say, Souji?” Dojima asks, and there’s a possibility it might be his imagination, but… his voice sounds stern. Angry.

Souji stiffens further. He stares vacantly at his food as the familiar and vile iron-hold of panic thrashes and constricts in his chest. 

(“What did you just say to me, Souji Seta? I dare you to look me in the eyes and use that tone again.”)

Souji ducks his head. “I-I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

Dojima frowns, then reaches an arm across the table to his nephew. And Souji prepares for it; he closes his eyes and flinches, accidentally knocking over his container of food and drink in the process. As a result, his sushi falls everywhere on the table, and his glass of water spills onto his lap. It drenches his clothes and the cushion he sits on.

Shit. What am I doing?! I’m going to be in so much trouble! She’s going to be even angrier now. She’s going to-

“Souji,” Dojima says. He puts his chopsticks down and sits up straight with a concerned look. “What’s the matter? I was trying to check you for a fever.”

Right… Souji shakes his head and attempts to get his breathing under control. I’m in Inaba. I’m with Uncle and Nanako. Not in Tokyo; not with her.

“I… I thought I saw a spider,” Souji lies. He stands up to change his clothes and find a cloth to clean up the spilled food and water. “I’m sorry, Uncle.”

The rest of dinner is spent with Dojima watching his nephew carefully; Nanako follows suit with a similar look in her eyes. It feels like a glaring spotlight upon him — like the oppressive scrutiny he wished so desperately to escape as a child is greeting him here, too. When Dojima heads to bed, Souji attempts to ease Nanako’s worries a bit, asking if she enjoyed her summer.

“Uh-huh!” Nanako grins and folds a piece of paper into a crane on the table, just like how Souji had shown her. “What about you, Big Bro?”

Souji notices—with a mixture of feelings that he can’t quite place urgently making itself known in his heart—that he missed a spot of soy sauce when he was cleaning the table. For some reason, the stain seems darker than it actually is. 

“I enjoyed mine. I love when we can all spend time together. My favorite times are when you join us, Nanako.”

Nanako’s eyes sparkle. “Really? What was your favorite memory?”

“Hmm, I really liked the fireworks festival the other day.”

“That was so much fun! I can’t wait to go again next year! O-Oh, but…” Nanako’s eyes fall. “You won’t be there, will you?”

“I’m sure I can visit for summer,” Souji assures, but he thinks that may be a lie, too. 

“I wish you didn’t have to leave…” 

“I don’t ever want to,” Souji admits before he can even stop himself, and that’s the most truthful he’s been in months.

If I had a choice, I would never leave this town. I don’t want to get on that train. I don’t want to ever go back. I’m afraid that when I do, you will all leave me behind.

Nanako inches closer and lays her head on Souji’s arm. They’re quiet for a long time. The low drawl of the quiz show and the final cicadas of summer singing just outside the sliding door are the only sounds that fill the room. 

“Oh!” Nanako suddenly sits up. She looks at him with bright eyes. “Did you get a, um, gift recently?”

Souji smiles, thinking of the Pusheen sitting on the desk in his room. “I did, actually. Why do you ask?”

“It was the Pusheen, right? You got the Pusheen?”

Souji laughs. “Is that what you and Yosuke were talking about at the fireworks festival? Yes, it was the Pusheen.”

“Finally! Yosuke-nii was such a big chicken! I helped him pick out your prize, and then he told me he didn’t even think he was gonna give it to you!”

“Why?”

“If you ask me…” Nanako glances around the room, then beckons Souji close to whisper. “I think he has a big fat crush on you!”

Souji’s face goes red. “D-Don’t be silly.”

“No, I’m serious!” Nanako counters, and to be fair, she looks very serious. “My friend Miwa-chan is like that too! She had to give my other friend Takeyoshi-kun a handout for class, and couldn’t even do that ‘cause her huge crush on him made her scared! I had to do it for her.”

Souji sighs. “Nanako, boys…”

He stops. He knows exactly what he was just about to say to her. “Nanako, boys can’t like other boys”. Except that’s not even his own belief. Instead, it’s an automatic response. Something that’s been drilled into his mind for more years than he can count. 

“Michiaki-kun,” Souji says, ten years old in a small classroom after clean-up duty. The orange haze of the evening sun lazily filters in through the windows. “I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while, but… but I-I have a crush on you.”

Michiaki is silent for a long while, then begins to laugh wildly, sputtering against the broomstick he holds. “S-Souji-kun… ahaha! That was a good one!”

Souji furrows his brow. “I’m not joking! I like you.”

Michiaki stills. He regards Souji with a wary expression. “Umm… you know that’s not allowed, right?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. Mom and Dad told me about it once. Girls can’t like girls, and boys can’t like boys. They said it’s wrong. It’s bad!”

Souji tilts his head. “What’s so bad about it?”

“It’s just bad, okay?” Michiaki repeats, growing more and more frustrated by the second. “It’s called ‘gay’. You can’t be gay, Souji-kun, or you’re a bad person!”

“Boys…?” Nanako asks, looking up at him expectantly.

The problem is, someone will tell you something repeatedly, and over time, part of you will start to believe that it’s true. And that part of Souji—no matter how much he tries to repress it—continues to eat away at his mind and trickle poison into the furthest corners of his heart. A broken record — forever reminding him that it’s wrong, that it’s not allowed, that it’s bad. 

“Boys… are weird,” Souji settles on saying.

“Yosuke-nii’s a little weird. I think you’re weirder,” Nanako says. She sits up and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “But I still love you, Big Bro!”

Souji hugs her close. “Love you more, Nanako.”

He doesn’t ever want to let go. He knows that one day, inevitably, Nanako and everyone else will move on without him. That’s what happens when you’re a brat, after all — when you’re weird and bad and wrong and everything else they remind you that Souji Seta will always be.

For what seems like an entire lifetime, Souji stares at the reflection of himself and Nanako hugging in the darkness of the TV screen. Somehow, the image fits perfectly within the square; nothing left out and everything in frame, like it was always meant to be there. And in the corner of his eye, the soy sauce stain on the table seems to grow in size, to blacken that much more.

It’s too late to clean it off. He knows that no matter how much he may try, the stain won’t come out now.

Chapter Text

September 8, 2011

“Dude, your arm! It’s free! Let me see it!”

On the bus headed toward Tatsumi Port Island, Yosuke gently takes hold of Souji’s now un-casted arm and inspects every inch with careful scrutiny, as if it’s an artifact in a museum and not his best friend’s limb. 

Yosuke grins. “It looks so much better! You got it off this morning?”

“Yeah,” Souji says, settling into his seat on the bus. “It feels better, too.”

“You’re probably gonna miss my message though, right?”

“You mean the message that said ‘Yosuke is the greatest’ scrawled in all caps across the entire length of the cast? So large, in fact, that it made it difficult to see the other messages? Nope.”

Yosuke huffs and crosses his arms. “You’re a real jerk sometimes, partner. I don’t think I wanna room with you anymore on this trip.”

Across the aisle, Kanji speaks up. “Hey, what’s that place we’re stayin’ at called again?”

Saki pokes her head up from the seat in front of them. “It’s the Iwatodai dorms!”

“Iwatodai, baby!” Teddie cheers beside her.

“I’m kinda excited!” Chie calls from behind them. She accidentally knocks her arms into Souji’s head as she props herself up in her seat. “Instead of staying in some lame hotel, we can act like we’re in college!”

“Yeah,” Rise chimes next to Kanji. “You definitely don’t want to stay in some of the hotels they have here. I’m actually relieved the hotel King Moron picked didn’t have enough vacancy for all of us. Not that it was that kind of hotel, but…” She shudders. “I still don’t trust it.”

“What’s ‘that’ kind of hotel?” Yukiko asks, ignoring Yosuke’s cry of pain as she too knocks him in the head. Though, maybe hers wasn’t accidental. 

Rise shivers once more. “Trust me, you don’t want to know, Yukiko-senpai.”

“You just don’t, Yukiko,” Souji adds grimly. “You just don’t.”

**

“You all know about the gods who created this country, I assume?” Edogawa asks later that day. The team sit in the desks of the Gekkoukan classroom, most of them looking bored out of their minds. Except Souji, of course. This story always fascinates him. “The two gods who gave birth to this country are the god Izanagi and the goddess Izanami.”

Souji feels a light tapping against his foot. He turns slightly in his chair.

Yosuke points at him and mouths, “Izanagi?”

Edogawa further explains the legend of the two gods. He says the same exact things as last time in that droning, monotone voice, yet Souji still hangs onto his every word. After the lecture is over, he even stays behind to ask more questions about it.

“Mr. Edogawa,” Souji says as students file out of the room. “I really enjoyed your lecture. I was wondering if you could tell me any more about it?”

“What would you like to know?” Edogawa asks as he erases the chalkboard behind his podium. Izanami, Izanagi, Amaterasu, Tsukuyomi, and Susanoo disappear under his hand.

“Wait.” Souji stops him just as he is about to erase Yomi. He points at the word. “That one. The underworld. What do you know about it?”

“Yomi?” Edogawa pauses and stares at the word. “The ‘Kojiki’ describes it as part of three locations. Each are respectively in the sky, on the Earth, or underground. The first is Takamagahara: the plain of high heaven. This is said to be where the gods were born. The second is Ashihara-no-Nakatsukuni: the middle country of reeds. It sits between Takamagahara and Yomi, or Yomi-no-Kuni, which is—as you know—the land of the dead. Not much is known about what it looks like, but it is described as a ‘polluted land’. This likely stems from the Shinto belief that things connected with death are impure — polluted. You’ll remember from my lecture that Izanami was just a rotting corpse swarmed with maggots. After his trip into Yomi, Izanagi wished to purify himself in river waters, feeling contaminated and defiled. This is the ritual we now recognize as misogi. I believe that wish alone can tell you the atmosphere of Yomi. Do you want to know what I think, Seta-kun?”

Souji nods. “Yes.”

Edogawa erases Yomi for good. He then takes a piece of chalk and underlines Yomotsu Hirasaka — the only word left on the board. “I think Izanagi couldn’t handle the truth.”

Souji’s stomach lurches. “No…?”

“No. Light is often associated with truth. Izanagi lit a fire to see his wife between the darkness of shadows, only to run away and seal off the entrance to Yomi in response.”

Souji crosses his arms and frowns. “But… but Izanami sent reinforcements after him. It’s only natural that he’d run away.”

“Is it?” Edogawa challenges with a smirk. “When you create a whole country with someone… when you breathe life and meaning into something with another person you care for—whatever it may be—would you up and abandon them the first time they reveal to you an ugly truth?” He underlines Yomotsu Hirasaka twice more and taps the word firmly. “Would you avert your eyes and seal off Yomotsu Hirasaka? Seal off your connection to them forevermore?”

Souji grimaces as memories of his friends’ Shadows cloud his mind. Saki, Chie, Yukiko, Kanji, Rise, Teddie, Naoto… and even Yosuke. He’d failed them all last time — betrayed them just as Izanagi had done unto Izanami, despite knowing that the truth was still lost in Inaba’s fog. The truth which continues to elude him; the truth that he once chose to cast away in favor of familiarity. The truth: ugly, impure, and polluted.

“Pursue the truth until the very end, never letting your heart falter. Do not regress into the cowardice that so easily finds you, lest the fog cloud your vision once again.”

“No,” Souji finally answers. He stands up straight and looks Edogawa in the eyes. “Izanagi was a coward. You say you love someone… that means you don’t turn your back on them. You don’t create that division the moment things get difficult. You fight back against the yomotsu-shikome and the yakusa-no-ikazuchi, even if it’s painful. And it will be painful. That’s the price you often pay for liberation.”

Edogawa smiles. “Exactly. You get it, Seta-kun. But just remember… Izanami promised to kill one thousand people each day. What did Izanagi say in response?”

Souji smiles, too. “‘Then I shall give life to 1,500 each day’.”

“Right. Izanagi is ‘He Who Invites’. He calls upon people and they gather strength from him. This strength brings forth life and meaning. That life and meaning, I believe, could be his redemption after his betrayal to Izanami.”

Souji leaves the classroom soon after and rejoins his friends as they walk the halls of Gekkoukan. Yomotsu Hirasaka remains written on the chalkboard in the wake. Un-erased.

**

“These rooms are soooooo cool, don’t you think, partner?” Yosuke asks him that night, sprawled out on one of the beds in the Iwatodai dorms.

“Yeah,” Souji agrees. “Much cooler than staying in a hotel.”

Thanks for the painful memories, Kashiwagi… 

“The poor losers who got stuck in that lame hotel must be bored out of their minds right now. We’ve got a whole common room, kitchen, and even a fridge in our room!” Yosuke enthuses, jumping off the bed and opening said fridge. He pulls out a soda and pops the tab. “And it’s loaded with stuff!”

Souji laughs at his friend’s enthusiasm. He continues to fold his clothes, placing them within a drawer in the room. “Just don’t eat everything in one night.”

“Nah. Wouldn’t even dream of it. You want a soda, partner?”

“Sure. Can you get me a…” Souji trails off as his finger grazes something in the drawer. He pulls his hand out only to be greeted with a small photograph. There are multiple people (and a dog?) he doesn’t recognize smiling back at him. A girl with bright blue eyes, what looks like twins with headphones, a girl with long red hair… A boy with a red trench coat and beanie? Souji gasps. “Shinjiro-san!”

“Huh?” Yosuke asks from behind him. “Never heard of that drink before…”

“No! Yosuke, it’s Shinjiro!” 

Yosuke makes his way over as Souji insistently taps at the photograph. “Okay dude, chill.” He takes the picture and quickly looks it over. “Who’s Shinjiro? I’ve never seen these people before in my life.”

“Shinjiro… he’s…” Souji trails off once more. There’s really no way to explain his connection to Shinjiro without revealing what happened that night in the alleyway in middle school. “Yosuke… if I tell you something, will you promise to keep it secret?”

Yosuke gives him a gentle pat on the back. “Of course. You know you can trust me.”

Souji carefully reveals the details of that night (Though leaves out the part where he literally tells a grown man to murder him. Real fun stuff, Seta). Yosuke’s mouth drops open in shock once he finishes. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Yosuke says with a disbelieving shake of his head. “You’re telling me this… this guy who kills people let you go free?! And you look up to him?!”

Souji frowns. “He was… different. I don’t know how to explain it to you, but he was different. I could feel it in my heart. He holds ‘The Moon’ arcana.”

“Just because he’s attached to an arcana, that makes him alright?!”

Souji huffs in annoyance and shuts the dresser drawer. “Jesus, Yosuke… I just told you about an experience that was very important to me. Could you be a bit more supportive?”

Yosuke immediately loses his edge. He sighs and crouches next to Souji by the dresser. “You’re right. I’m sorry. So… I guess he went to Gekkoukan?”

“I guess so. I think I’ll ask Chihiro-senpai about it tomorrow.”

“Yeah. She probably knows a lot,” Yosuke says, then hesitates. “I wonder… I wonder if that group is still around. I’m sorry you went through something like that.”

Souji shrugs. “That’s just how it is.”

Yosuke’s eyes fall. Souji doesn’t quite understand why.

“You sure say that a lot, Souji…”

September 9, 2011

The next day, Souji approaches Chihiro in the hallway after another one of Edogawa’s lectures. She stands in front of a bulletin board with a stapler and multiple flyers advertising the student council club in hand. 

“Chihiro-senpai?”

Chihiro turns around. “Oh. Hi, Seta-kun! Did you need help finding a location?”

“No thank you. I was actually wondering if I could ask you about a student who used to go here.” Souji holds up the picture he found last night and points to Shinjiro. “Do you know anything about him?”

Chihiro gazes at the picture for a moment. She takes off her glasses, rubs her eyes, then puts them back on. Her cheerful disposition is erased within a second. “Oh… um… can I see this?”

Souji hands the picture to her. She stares at it for a long, long time, endlessly tracing her finger over the twins with headphones. She wipes at her eyes once more, though this time it is because of the tears that slip down her cheeks. 

“Are you okay, Chihiro-senpai?” Souji asks worriedly. “Should I get someone?”

Chihiro sniffs. “No. It’s just… I feel like I haven’t seen them in forever. Hamuko-san… Minato-san…”

Souji points at the twins. “Them?”

“Yes…” Chihiro whispers, stroking the image once more, then shaking her head. “I’m sorry. You asked about Shinjiro-senpai. You… you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

Chihiro’s eyes are sad. “Come with me, Seta-kun.”

Chihiro leads him downstairs to another hallway where a few glass cases line the walls. They hold multiple awards and certificates, with interspersed pictures in frames among them. Many feature the group in the picture still resting between her fingers. Chihiro opens the frame of one of the cases and takes out a picture of Shinjiro and a boy with the same gray hair as his own standing in front of the gates of Gekkoukan. The boy claps a hand on Shinjiro’s shoulder, and Shinjiro is… smiling?

“This is Shinjiro-senpai and Akihiko-senpai sometime in September 2009. They were very close…”

“‘Were’?” Souji asks.

Chihiro turns to face him fully. “Shinjiro-senpai died about a month after this picture was taken.”

Souji stiffens. “I’m sorry… what? Did I hear you correctly?”

“You did. If you don’t mind me asking, how did you know him?” 

“W-We met once in Tokyo, where I used to live. What… what do you mean he died? How?”

Chihiro fidgets and picks at a spot on her skirt. “I honestly don’t know. It was so sudden. One day he was here and the next he wasn’t. Mitsuru-senpai knows.” She points to the girl with long red hair in the group picture. “She was student council president before me and knew Shinjiro-senpai well. However… I know she doesn’t like to speak about it.”

“How-“ Souji starts, but is cut off by the bell ringing. 

“I’m sorry, Seta-kun,” Chihiro says, and she genuinely looks so. “That’s really all I know. I have to go lead the first-years to their next class, but…” She holds up the group picture. “Can I please keep this?”

“Um, sure,” Souji says, trying his best to wrap his mind around this whole situation. “Th-Thank you, Chihiro-senpai.”

Chihiro clutches the picture to her chest and gives him a bow. When she looks back up, her eyes shine with tears, yet none fall. Souji isn’t as strong as her. He scrubs at his face in hurried motions as he hears the rest of his friends draw nearer behind him.

**

“It’s just… just crazy, isn’t it? Died. Died. So young…”

Yosuke turns to Souji with a sympathetic gaze as they, Teddie, and Naoto walk the streets of Tatsumi Port Island in search of something to do. Rise had practically dragged Kanji and Saki to the Iwatodai Strip Mall as soon as the final bell of the day chimed, while Yukiko and Chie headed back to the dorms for a quick nap before going to Club Escapade tonight. Teddie has insisted on sticking close to Yosuke for the majority of this trip, which is fine, and they had run into Naoto wandering around a few blocks from Paulownia Mall and decided to ask if she wanted to join them. Miraculously, she had no qualms. 

“And you said Chihiro-senpai didn’t know how?” Yosuke asks. 

“Yeah,” Souji says. He frowns and kicks at a stray rock on the pavement; it tumbles out into the road and is quickly run over by a car. The sun hangs low in the sky. Sweat gathers at his palms. Crowds of people flood the streets alongside the four — loud teenagers, excited kids and their parents, the quiet elderly, and the stress-weary middle-aged just getting off work. It pains him that Shinjiro Aragaki isn’t among that crowd today.

“Maybe you can ask her friend?” Yosuke suggests. “The former student council president?”

Souji shakes his head. “No. Chihiro-senpai said she doesn’t like to talk about it. I would hate to bring up any painful memories.”

Souji sighs heavily as he stares down at the picture of Shinjiro and Akihiko in his hands. He gently traces their smiles. Akihiko must have been important to him. Souji can’t imagine Shinjiro smiling in any other scenario. 

“Souji-senpai,” Naoto says, looking back at him from where she and Teddie walk ahead. “What time is everyone meeting at Clu-“

Naoto is cut off by a rather loud shout coming from a nearby alleyway. “Bang, bang! And Black Condor puts one right between Red Hawk’s eyes! A profound betrayal!”

Souji stops in his tracks. So does everyone else.

“Is that…” Yosuke says, looking toward the alleyway, “a kid?”

Sure enough, several yards away there is what looks like a young boy with shaggy hair crouched in the narrow space, going to town in a fight between his Featherman figures. What’s he doing out here all alone? It’s nearing nighttime now.

“Shirogane-san,” Souji says. “Can you stay here with Teddie for a moment?”

Naoto puts a hand to her chin. “I’m outside of my jurisdiction here, but… if that’s a missing child…”

“I don’t want to overwhelm him. Yosuke and I will have a look.”

“Very well,” Naoto agrees. “I’ll be on standby.”

Souji beckons Yosuke over, and together, they quietly walk to where the boy is, still in the midst of his battle and not paying any attention. Upon closer inspection, Souji notices that the boy’s hair is brown and his eyes a deep red. A few freckles scatter across his nose. He wears a red t-shirt several sizes too big for him that says, “♡♡ OCTOPIA!!! ♡♡” along with a pair of khaki shorts. If he had to guess, Souji would say the boy is quite a bit older than Nanako — maybe twelve.

Yosuke crouches down. “H-Hey, bud.”

“Hi,” the boy says flatly. He doesn’t look up from his toys.

“So, um… what are you doing out here by yourself? It’s getting near dark now. Maybe you should head home.” 

The boy doesn’t answer. He shoves Black Condor against Red Hawk harshly. “Why should you have things I don’t, Red?! You’re brainless. You’re too sentimental. I’ll prove I’m better than you, just you watch!”

Yosuke looks up at Souji with a worried glance. “Partner…? A little help?”

Souji joins the two on the ground and gestures to the figures. “Hey, Black Condor is my favorite too, you know. How about you show me Laevateinn? I’ve always liked that skill.”

The boy finally looks up, eyes sharp. Souji feels a distinct tugging at his heart — Angel, Throne, Uriel. It’s the same kind of pull he feels when Nanako smiles at him, hugs him, says she loves him. This boy is of the Justice arcana, no doubt.

“Laevateinn is a powerful move. Black is pretty worn out from his fight.”

“Well… he can always use some Life Stones, right? Do you have those on hand?”

“Good thinking.” The boy nods to himself and makes Black raise a hand to his mouth as if he’s drinking something. Then, with several more swishes and booms, “Black Condor, descend!”

“Wow, so cool!” Souji enthuses with a thumbs up. “How does the song go again? ‘Let’s go, I’m Featherman’…!”

The boy shakes his head with all the seriousness of a CEO giving a presentation. “Nuh-uh. It’s ‘Let’s go, our Featherman! This glittering and beautiful star’!”

Souji matches his solemnity. “I see. You’re very knowledgeable about Featherman, huh?”

“Mhm. It’s my favorite.”

“Don’t you think it’d be more fun to play inside? There’s a lot of things out here that Black could be hurt by. You’d be sad if he got hurt, right?”

The boy dramatically hangs his head. “Yeah, I guess…”

“Say…” Souji puts a finger to his lips as if in thought. “Black’s probably pretty hungry after his duel, right? I’ll buy you and him something to eat, buuuuuut you have to promise me two things, okay?”

“What?” 

“I need to know your name, or it can be a nickname if you don’t want to tell me your real one. That’s fine. And I also need to know where to take you home after we finish eating. Does that sound alright?”

The boy hesitates. He fidgets with Black Condor for a bit, then nods. “My name is Goro Akechi. And… and I’m supposed to be at Mirai Children’s Home right now…”

Another twitch spreads across Souji’s chest. This time, he knows it’s not from the otherworldly. An orphan?

After a bit of coaxing, Goro takes Souji’s hand with his right and Yosuke’s with his left. They lead him to where Naoto and Teddie stand at the entrance to the alleyway.

“Shirogane-san, Teddie,” Souji says. “This is Goro Akechi. Goro, this is Teddie and-“

Goro gasps and drops their hands. He points at Naoto with star-struck eyes. “The Detective Prince! I know you!”

Naoto looks taken aback for a brief moment, then gradually smiles. It’s completely sincere. “Do you?”

Goro nods excitedly. “Yeah! I see you all the time on TV! You’re so cool, Shirogane-san! I want to be just like you someday.”

Naoto laughs kindly. “Is that so? Well, thank you, Goro-kun. That’s a very flattering compliment.”

Souji decides to take everyone to Chagall café, as it’s the closest place nearby to eat. The host at the front of the restaurant gives them all a strange look as they walk in. Souji really doesn’t blame her; two teenage boys holding hands with a strangely severe-looking kid, trailed by two more pint-sized boys—one of which is a fairly renowned member of law enforcement, and the other a literal animal—what a sight it must be, honestly. 

As they slide into their seats, Souji takes a moment to observe the restaurant’s atmosphere. He’s been to the chain in Okina a few times, so the decorations here are not so dissimilar, however, beside their table, there hangs a picture of the twins he saw in the group picture he found at the dorms — the twins Chihiro couldn’t tear her eyes away from. Hamuko and Minato, apparently, judging by what she said earlier. The twins both wear long, green aprons in the photo. In one hand, Minato balances a tray of coffee mugs, and in the other, he flashes a peace sign at the camera with a thoroughly bored expression. Hamuko does much of the same at his side, though with the type of smile that could even put Rise’s own to shame. 

For some reason, I feel connected to these two. Like they have knowledge and experiences similar to my own, Souji thinks. He smiles at the picture, eyes softening. I wonder if I’ll meet them someday. 

“So, Goro. My Featherman friend.” Souji turns his attention back to the boy sitting across from him. “What would you like to eat?”

Goro bites his lip as he looks at the menu. “Umm, what can I get?”

“Anything you want.”

“Anything…?” Goro scans the menu several more times, then points to a specific section. “Can I have some pancakes?”

When their waiter approaches the table, Souji orders Goro a stack of pancakes, sneakily whispering behind his hand to put as much fruit and whipped cream as possible on top of them. 

Yosuke nudges Souji as the waiter takes off with their list of orders. “Dude. Goro warmed up to you in a heartbeat. How are you so good with kids?”

“I guess it just comes naturally,” Souji lies. The real truth is that he never got to be one. 

That bitterness is fleeting though, as he watches Teddie rope Goro into round after round of Janken — a game the bear has been desperately begging everyone to play with him lately after Yukiko had taught him how a few weeks ago. Goro doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he meets Teddie with just as much enthusiasm, enough to turn several other customers’ heads their way. Oh well. As long as the kid’s having fun, what does it matter?

Eventually, their waiter returns with their orders, and Goro wastes no time in giving thanks and promptly ravaging his food. The rest of them watch the sight in bemusement. Goro just looks so happy. It’s infectious. 

“Goro,” Teddie says, laughing as the boy sprinkles even more powdered sugar onto his meal. “You act like you haven’t had pancakes in ages!”

“I… haffn’t…” Goro says through a huge mouthful.

“Oh… why not?”

Goro swallows. “My mother is the only person that would ever make them for me, but she killed herself, so…” he says, then picks up his glass of water and sips casually, like he hadn’t just ripped the hearts out of everyone at the table. 

Yosuke shares a horrified glance with Souji for a moment, then turns back to the boy. “U-Uh… what…?”

Goro puts his drink down. He doesn’t look so blissful anymore. Souji notices for the first time how dark his under-eyes are. “Mm. I know how it sounds, but please don’t look at me like that.”

Yosuke gives Souji another incredulous look. He isn’t able to speak his mind right now, but he doesn’t even need to. His eyes say it all. Across from them, Teddie sets his chopsticks aside and looks down at his untouched plate of natto with a deeply disturbed frown. Naoto looks the most uncomfortable of them all. Souji holds back a grimace. That’s right; Naoto is an orphan, too. He can’t imagine how painful this topic must be for her.

“Goro-kun… what about your father?” Naoto asks. “That is, if you wish to speak about him.”

Goro grips his knife tighter; the action isn’t unnoticeable, not in the slightest. “He’s a good for nothing man — a crooked politician and a rotten, piece of shit sexual abuser. Nothing more, but if you can think of less, well… he is most certainly that.”

What… the hell? Souji thinks, glancing among his friends. None of them say a word. Souji himself has no idea what to say to that. Goro’s entire disposition has changed so drastically — like it was effortless.

“Imagine someone in your life who has done nothing but harm and hinder you and those you care about,” Goro says, voice low and shaking. “Someone who you truly believe crawled out of Hell itself. And then, imagine that person one thousand times worse than they already are. That… is Masayoshi Shido.”

Souji leans close. “And that… that’s your father? Masayoshi Shido?”

Goro nods. “That is my father. A man who deserves to suffer. A man who deserves to make his bed by falsely assuring water, then wake the next morning and find that fire has still come out victorious.”

Goro’s tone is filled with nothing but malice, and yet that malice is ruined by the high-pitched cracking of his voice and the red shock of acne across his jawline, because this is a twelve year-old. A twelve year-old who sits across the table with whipped cream smeared over a trembling upper lip, who wears an oversized, gaudy t-shirt covered in endless hearts and exclamation marks advertising a takoyaki shop, who corrects the lyrics to a children’s superhero show like it’s a life or death situation, and who will turn around in the next moment and say “Go to hell” with such poeticness that Souji thinks it could come straight from the Bible. What is it that Masayoshi Shido did to make a child harbor so much outright hatred in his heart?

A bit later—after Teddie has challenged Goro to more Janken and Souji, Yosuke, and Naoto had put on their best Featherman acts and played action figures with him in an effort to get his mind off of the frankly dark conversation they just had—they find themselves outside of Mirai Children’s Home. It’s not a very big place, and despite its name, doesn’t seem too homey. Goro looks at it with a scowl.

“Souji-san…” Goro says, wrenching his gaze away from the building and up at Souji, “I’m… I’m wondering if you’ll promise me something.”

Souji smiles and crouches down to be level with him. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I, um…” Goro’s bangs fall into his eyes. Souji gently moves them aside. “I get moved around homes a lot. I’m never in the same place for very long, but… but I had a lot of fun with you and your friends today. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. You said you live in Inaba, right?”

“That’s right.”

Goro looks at the building once more. The yellow wash of light that pours from the windows gradually fades with each passing second as domesticity unwinds for the evening and the energy of the city night-life takes over. Souji thinks Goro’s eyes are brighter than the whole of Tatsumi Port Island and Tokyo combined.

Goro takes a deep breath. “Will you promise me, if you’re ever in Tatsumi Port Island again… and I’m still h-here…” His voice breaks as a few tears slip down his cheeks. “That you’ll come visit me?”

Souji brings Goro in for a hug. “I promise. It’s okay to cry.”

Yosuke, Naoto, and Teddie soon follow, sitting down next to Souji and wrapping their arms around Goro as well. The moment is so heartfelt—so melancholic—that Souji can’t help a few sniffs and tears from escaping him. Teddie has never been one to care; he lets out several unrestrained sobs as they all hold each other. Yosuke and Naoto, on the other hand, maybe care a little too much. Souji doesn’t miss the way Naoto covers her eyes with her cap as they all let go; neither does he miss Yosuke’s slight, ragged inhale.

“Goro,” Souji says with another sniff, holding him close by the shoulders. “I’m going to tell you something, alright?”

Goro rubs at his eyes, and it makes him look a lot younger than twelve. It reminds Souji of Nanako when she asks for a bedtime story. “‘Mkay.”

Souji takes a deep breath. What an emotionally exhausting day. “You say you get moved around a lot. That’s something I understand too, you know.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” Souji says. Yosuke places a light, reassuring hand on his shoulder. Souji wonders if he can tell how much he’s trying to hide his shaking. “My parents’ line of work is very demanding. It often calls for them to move around every few years within Tokyo. I get so used to where I am—my house, my school, the people I’m around—and then before I know it, I have to relearn everything again. It’s no fun, right?”

“Yeah. It’s no fun. Some of the homes are worse than others, but… I don’t like change. I’d rather just suck it up and deal with it.”

Souji wants to rip his own hair out. A kid should not have to talk like this! “I get that. I don’t like change either. I hate it, actually. But, well…” He points to the Featherman figure between Goro’s hands. “What does Black Condor always say about life?”

Goro looks at the figure for a long moment. He strokes it gently, then grins. It’s barely there, but it’s still something. “‘To carve your own path is the greatest liberation’.”

Souji nods. “Right. There are a lot of things you can’t control in life, but that doesn’t mean it’s not your own. At the end of the day, you’re still you. So…” He swallows and sniffs once more, then gives him a big smile. “So make sure you look out for yourself, Goro.”

“And don’t forget that we’ll have your back, even in Inaba!” Teddie chimes in. “I’ll be looking forward to our next game of Janken!”

Naoto’s eyes shine. “Yes. We’ll meet again, Goro-kun. If you wish to be the second coming of the Detective Prince, then I’m sure of it. After all, someone has to be your mentor.”

Yosuke coaxes Goro to lift his chin up. “And you haven’t even met all of us, dude! We’ll bring everyone next time, okay?”

Goro smiles wider. “Okay.” He gives them all one last, long hug, then makes his way to the door of the run-down building. He moves to turn the handle, then stops and turns around. He looks at Souji dead-on; the grin hanging from his lips doesn’t waver. “You have wonderful friends, Souji-san. I hope I will too someday.”

The door closes.

“You deserve to…” Souji whispers in his absence. 

**

Maybe it’s because the entirety of today has been absolutely draining, but Souji finds that the club is nowhere near as fun as last time. Sure, he may have exaggerated his faux-inebriated state alongside Rise, Yukiko, and Teddie last time, and sure, he may have let slip to Yukiko later that night—laughing like hyenas as they had clumsily refilled the ice bucket in the hotel’s hallway—that he’s been crushing on Yosuke for quite some time. That all had definitely factored into the excitement of the night, but it’s just… different now. Rise and Yukiko still ham it up with their “alcohol”. Saki joins them this time, and Chie and Kanji watch it all unfold in exasperation, but Souji really can’t find it within himself to be amused at their antics in the current moment. Not when Naoto sits beside him, rigid on the end of her seat with her hands folded tightly. Not when, across the room, the frown and taut line of stress hovering over Yosuke’s shoulders haven’t left him for hours. And not even when Teddie draws the king stick, picks Yukiko’s number, and simply asks for “A hug” in the saddest tone he’s ever heard.

“Oooooh, Kanji!” Rise giggles, breaking Souji from his somber reflection and pointing at the king stick Kanji has just drawn. “What will be your order, your highness?”

“Uhhhh.” Kanji risks a sneaky glance toward Naoto. She isn’t even paying attention. “Okay, number two: I get to write a word on your forehead in marker.”

“What?” Yukiko gripes. She sets her glass down on the table with force. “Kanji-kun, that is so lame! This game is supposed to be, like… risqué!”

To Souji’s other side, Chie groans. “Ugh.”

Souji pats her on the back. “Hang in there, Chie.”

“Hey, you have no idea what word I’m gonna write, Yukiko-senpai!” Kanji argues, but there is no heat to his voice. “Alright, number two! Gimme your forehead! C’mon!”

“Aww man…” Saki pouts. She leans closer to Kanji, rolling her eyes as he uncaps his marker. “You better be nice, Kanji-kun!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kanji gruffs, cap held between his teeth as he draws on Saki’s face. “There. Lookin’ beautiful, Senpai.”

“Cloudgirl Pot” now sits proudly upon Saki’s forehead.

Okay, that’s actually pretty funny. It’s enough to bring a laugh out of Souji for the first time in what seems like ages. Kanji’s weird sense of humor never ceases to amuse him. 

Saki gasps as she looks in the compact mirror Rise has given her. “Kanji-kun! Out of all the stupid Shadow names, you picked the one that’s going to make me look like a drug dealer?!”

“Dude, I coulda named you, like, ‘Miss Gene’ or somethin’. Be grateful!”

“Miss Gene is so much better than Cloudgirl Pot!”

“Hey,” Yosuke says. He puts a finger to his lips and inconspicuously glances to Naoto. “Pipe down, would you?”

“Well, I t-think it’s funny…” Yukiko says.

Saki sighs. “You think everything is funny, Yukiko-chan.”

“Whatever you say, C-Cloudgirl Pot! Ahah!”

After a few more rounds—in which Rise gets Saki to sit on her lap and Naoto gives a begrudging kiss to Chie’s hand—Yosuke finally draws the king stick. Come to think of it, he’d never gotten a chance last year.

Yosuke hums in thought as he fiddles with his chopstick. “Alright, let’s see. I guess… number six: give me a kiss on the cheek. That’s pretty harmless, right?”

Souji looks down at his chopstick. Number nine. Damn, so close! Lucky bastard number six… He looks around the rest of the room, to which he finds that no one’s moving. In fact, they’re all eyeing each other expectantly.

“Uhhh, helloooooo?” Rise asks. “Who has number six?! The king is waiting patiently for his kiss!”

Yosuke groans. “Geez, Rise-san… It’s not that big of a deal.”

A loud, sputtering noise suddenly sounds at Souji’s right side. Chie—choking on laughter—points at his own chopstick. “D-Dude! Souji-kun’s totally got number six!”

Chie! Don’t play with my emotions like that!

“No, I don’t,” Souji says. He points to the clearly evident 9 written on the wood. “See?”

“Yes, you do,” Chie insists. She takes the stick and turns it around. “The number is supposed to be at the top of the stick, dummy! Not the bottom!”

Souji rubs his eyes and looks at the number again. That’s not a nine. That is a six. That is a six!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He’s about ninety-nine percent sure his eyes are bulging out of their sockets as everyone turns to him, and he’s currently not too aware of anything but the death-grip he has on the chopstick between his fingers, so he’s maybe fifty percent sure Naoto gives him a rough knock on the back in an effort to make him breathe, because he is one hundred percent sure he’s forgotten how to do that.  

“No way! Lemme see that!” Kanji says incredulously, reaching over to grab Souji’s chopstick. He stares at it for a long moment. “Woah… how ‘bout that, Senpai?”

Rise points an accusatory finger at Souji. “Subject! Why are you still sitting there?! The king is getting angry!”

“What?!” Yosuke squeaks. “I’m-I’m not getting angry! Quit putting words in my mouth! Ugh, look dude…” He turns to Souji, not quite meeting his eyes. “Y-You don’t have to force yourself to do something you’re uncomfortable with…”

Yukiko glares at him. “Yosuke-kun, what happened to this being ‘not that big of a deal’?”

Saki nods. “Friends can give each other kisses, Yo! Watch.” She leans down and gives Teddie a quick peck on the cheek, to which the bear seems to brighten up a bit. “Easy.”

Oh, easy. Totally. Right, Souji thinks, standing up from his seat on trembling legs. Thanks a million, Cloudgirl Pot.

Souji begins the walk to the other side of the room. It may as well be a death march. Yosuke’s crossing his arms with such force in front of him that Souji’s a little worried he may be accidentally hurting himself. He can’t really talk, though. The way his own body is tensed up tighter than a spring coil might very well cause him to break another bone. 

Oh God. Oh God. This is it! This is the goddamn day I die! Alright Naoto, you’re in charge of my funeral. Chie, Kanji, Saki, you’re my pallbearers. Yukiko, the reception is all you. Teddie-

“Uhh, hey…” Yosuke says lamely as Souji comes to a stop before him.

Naoto cracks up behind Souji. Great. Good to know she only starts to unwind at his demise. Won’t be laughing when the funeral is passed off to Kanji, no?

“Hey…”

Souji leans down, then closer — very slowly. The room goes dead silent. This is really happening, isn’t it? What do I do with my hands? Should I touch his face? His shoulders? Would he get mad at me for that?  

He ultimately decides to place a careful hand on the side of Yosuke’s face, right near his jawline. His skin is so warm… It occurs to Souji, right there in that specific second of time, that this is a monumental opportunity — presented on a silver platter and all. He’ll never get this chance again! Why not maximize it to its full potential? Well, maybe not full. He doesn’t want to ruin their friendship forever. But just one little kiss… he can do better than that. Souji Seta is no underachiever. 

Souji presses his lips against Yosuke’s cheek without another thought. And he’s so close that not only can he hear the soft gasp that his partner makes at the action, but can feel it, too — directly beneath his hand as the muscles of Yosuke’s throat suddenly contract. Souji thinks it’s delightful. He tilts Yosuke’s head to the other side next.

“Wh-What are you…”

Yosuke trails off as Souji kisses him twice on the other cheek. Once closer to the slight graze of his hairline across Souji’s nose, and once right on the corner of his mouth, where a freckle that Souji’s been desperately wanting to taste for ages finally becomes known to his lips and to the memory he seals away in his heart. The last kiss is reserved for his forehead. Yosuke has saved him a million times over with his quick thinking — has thought out countless sweet, meaningful words here that Souji rotates in his own mind each and every day. This spot is particularly special to him. He wonders if Yosuke can feel his goofy smile against his skin.

Souji returns to his seat without another word. The whole process must have taken thirty seconds tops, but for some reason—as he sits down and lets out a huge sigh, carefully avoiding everyone’s eyes and messing with a loose string on his shirt with that same absolutely foolish, head-over-heels in love grin plastered on his face—it feels like he’s traveled through time once more.

**

Souji expected this, but Yosuke is rather quiet for the rest of the night — even quieter than he was after Goro’s whole situation. He’s not wholly giving Souji the silent treatment, which is a good thing, but he’s not meeting his gaze at all. Yosuke opts to take the first shower back at the dorms. Souji wastes no time in doing the same once his partner exits and leaves behind a room full of steam. He can’t help but think of that same warmth he felt earlier against Yosuke’s neck as the water hits him.

Opening the door to their room afterward, Souji is greeted with a soft, melancholic song that fills the air and carries out toward the open sliding-glass doors of the balcony — “Kitakami Yakyoku”. Yosuke stands there, tapping out the rhythm against the rail that separates him and the rest of Tatsumi Port Island below.

Souji stands next to him. “Sayuri Ishikawa? Hers is my favorite cover of this song.”

Yosuke jumps and clutches a hand to his heart. “M-Man… give a guy some warning before you sneak up like that.”

“Sorry.”

“Mine too, though. I like her voice in general.” Yosuke waves a hand in the direction of the radio sitting atop the dresser in the room. “But you can change it if you want. That CD’s got a lot of slower songs burned on it. My CD folder’s laying around over there somewhere.”

“I know. You’re really messy. I think I tripped over it coming out here.”

Yosuke sighs. “Oh, haha. At least I don’t wake you up at four in the fucking morning ‘cause your bedsheet is riding up and you just have to fix it right then. That one’s super annoying, dude. I can only hope your future wife doesn’t murder you in your sleep.”

“Hmm, there’s that ‘W’ word again. You sure like to talk about my wife a lot, Yosuke. Should I be worried?”

“You’re so…” Yosuke snorts out a laugh, though it gradually fades as he looks out toward the colorful, swimming lights of the city and sighs once more. 

“Something wrong?” 

“Kind of. Just, you know… haven’t been able to get my mind off Goro tonight,” Yosuke says. He leans further over the rail and puts his head atop crossed arms. “Can’t stop thinking about all that shit he said. What kind of kid talks like that? And when you were talking to him in front of Mirai, you were just, like, literally pouring your heart out . I don’t know… I got this really weird feeling in my chest. The best way I can explain it is—and this sounds dumb—but I feel like I’ve known you before.”

Souji smiles sadly. “Mm, well… they say shared experiences bring you closer.”

Yosuke shakes his head. “It’s more than that. I feel like I’ve actually known you before. A long time ago, like you’ve always been a part of my life.” He shrugs. “Just got me thinking about me and you. We’re really similar, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“Like, you know how it feels to have shitty friends. You know how it feels to long for a connection. You know how it feels to… to…”

“To be alone.”

Yosuke closes his eyes. With a strained edge to his voice, he says, “To be alone…”

They sit in silence for a long while, nothing but the lull of the music behind them and signs of life from the city below them. It’s only September, but because of their proximity to the sea, coupled with the height of the dormitory, the breeze on the balcony proves to be somewhat chilled. Souji wants to reach forward and place his hands on Yosuke’s skin once more — wants to find out if that warmth will still survive even up against the wind. 

“That’s my number one fear…” Souji eventually whispers. “Being alone. Being left behind. Those who I love not caring.”

“I care,” Yosuke says. No hesitation.

“I-I know. I care about you too, Yosuke.”

“I know. That’s what I mean. We just… get each other. And so when I see kids like Goro—kids that have nothing and nobody—it’s like looking into a mirror. I used to want exactly what he wanted. I used to want true friendship. I didn’t want to… to s-sit around by myself with my toys and my thoughts. I wanted and wanted and craved, partner, for people. And for so goddamn long. And now I have this wonderful friendship with all of you, yet sometimes I can’t help but feel like I don’t even deserve it. Sometimes I feel like…”

“Like what?”

Yosuke grimaces and tugs on the cord of his headphones. “Ugh. This… is not gonna come out the way I want it to.”

“I’ll listen,” Souji says softly.

“There’s a part of me that feels like it’s not real. You’re given something you want, but you think so low of yourself that your mind desperately tries to convince you that it’s all fake. You know, I came to Inaba and I met Senpai, Chie, and Yukiko-san, but I was so stupid then. I asked out Yukiko-san for no reason during my first week! Why did I do that? I didn’t even like her like that! And then for months I was crushing on a girl that just saw me as some pathetic little puppy. I didn’t start to shape up ‘til you came around and the case began. I’m still pretty stupid now, but-“

“You’re not stupid,” Souji interrupts. He hesitates, then reaches out to place a soothing hand on Yosuke’s back where he leans over the rail. “It’s not good to keep calling yourself that. You’ll start to believe it. Trust me, I know. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. You know how to think on your feet and when to fight, and you know how to say it like it is and when to be more cautious. You know what it means to be loyal, to be compassionate, to be kind and fair and loving…” He smiles. “You’re the greatest friend I’ve ever had, partner.”

Yosuke rubs his nose and grins sheepishly. “Damn… you sure know how to butter a guy up, don’t you?”

“I’m not buttering you up…” Souji mutters. He pulls Yosuke in a bit closer. What is it about the dark that makes people more bold? “I mean it. And I get what you’re saying. Really, I do. Goro told me earlier that I have great friends, and he was right. You’re all incredible in your own ways. I’ve never met people like you all — so genuine, so much love in your hearts. I never thought I would make friends like that. I constantly wonder: why me?”

Yosuke huffs out a resigned laugh. “You can say that again.”

“Seriously, though. Why? What about people like Goro and Shinjiro-san? Despite what he was involved in, I know Shinjiro had a good heart. And Goro’s… Goro’s just a kid, you know? And yet it’s like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. So what about them? Why is it that life is so unkind, so unfair to them? My… um…”

“Yeah?” Yosuke coaxes.

Souji swallows, feels an eerie chill creep up the back of his neck. “My mother… when I was little, she would tell me ‘Life isn’t fair’. Of course I didn’t understand that, so I would always ask her ‘Why?’, and all she would say was ‘Because’. It was so frustrating, Yosuke. To tell you the truth, I still don’t understand. Not one bit. Why is it that me and you can walk around without worry at night, but Yukiko and Rise have to look behind their backs every two seconds? Why is it that Chie can eat all she wants and no one will laugh and stare, but Hanako Ohtani can’t? Why is it that I have friends, but Goro doesn’t? Why is it that I get to… to live, but… Shinjiro doesn’t?”

The radio switches songs. This one is droning, hollow, somber — like looking out of a car window only to find great, looming trees before you on a lonely stretch of highway cloaked in darkness. As Yosuke leans further into Souji’s touch—head practically resting on his shoulder, gently toying with the hem of his sleeve—he tells him it’s Pink Floyd’s “Us and Them”. 

“You know…” Yosuke says. “I’ve read about this song. It’s about war — about how none of it makes sense. But to me, it’s also about the division of people. You’re right, honestly. How am I supposed to believe in fairness when there’s a world filled to the brim with discrimination, with racism, with homelessness, with loneliness and creeps and just… evil? It’s hard to believe in a world like that — in a tainted world that will forever pit people against each other instead of first trying to work together. But…” His voice drops, shaking and hoarse. “As much as I don’t want to believe it exists, somehow you always manage to change my mind. I’ve never told you this, but I think it’s extremely admirable how you were forced to spend most of your life looking out for number one, yet the whole time you’ve been in Inaba, all you’ve been doing is trying your damn hardest to spread kindness and goodness to everyone. I’ve never m-met someone like you, Souji. You’re great… you’re great a-and…”

Yosuke lets out a pitiful sob. He buries his head against Souji’s neck, and the touch on his sleeve quickly becomes a death-grip. Souji’s heart breaks in two.

“Yosuke…” Souji breathes, pulling him in for a hug. He threads his fingers through Yosuke’s hair as he drenches the side of his neck in a heartbeat. “It’s alright, Yosuke. You can cry all you want. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you…”

Yosuke stays like that for a long while — death-grip on Souji’s shirt and trembling under his fingertips. It’s not worse than the time Souji held him when Saki’s death was still fresh and raw and real—not even close—but seeing Yosuke so broken in his arms again still isn’t any easier. He doesn’t think it ever will be.

It’s unfair, it’s unfair, it’s unfair, runs through Souji’s mind endlessly, just as it has ever since he got his first taste of the word when he should have been far too young to even know it existed.

“I think that everyone deserves kindness,” Souji mutters against Yosuke’s hair after a while. He slowly runs his hands up and down his arms. “So long as they show that same kindness to you. That’s fair by my standard.”

Yosuke sniffs and looks up at Souji with a small smile. “Guess that’s why you’re my partner. Couldn’t imagine anybody else being so hung up on what it means to be equal than me and you.”

The song ends, washing the balcony in silence. Yosuke’s smile fades as he grows a bit more serious. “I’ve never understood someone like that before. That’s why I truly feel like it’s just me and you sometimes, you know, partner? Us…” He knocks a hand between the miniscule space where their chests touch, then looks out to the floods of people below them inhabiting the city’s night-life. “And them.”

“Us and them…” Souji whispers.

Yosuke lets out a deep breath, replaced only by the chill of the wind that has him huddling closer to Souji. Souji doesn’t hesitate to open his arms wider.

“Mm, thanks,” Yosuke mumbles against his shoulder. He’s quiet for a moment as he watches the city, then, “Hey. Been wanting to ask you about something, but… I honestly don’t know how to say it. Remember what you told me a few months back when you asked me to be leader? Well, h-how, you know… how are doing?”

Souji tucks a strand of hair behind Yosuke’s ear — tender, heartfelt. As close as he is, he can clearly see the overbearing fondness within his eyes through the reflection in Yosuke’s. It’s incredible that Yosuke is letting him be so blatantly affectionate. It’s incredible that he himself is allowing his heart to take over for once. 

“I haven’t thought about it in a while,” Souji answers. It’s the truth. “It seems like everyday brings forth a new issue with the case. Doesn’t leave me much time to dwell on it.”

Yosuke’s eyes brighten. “That’s… that’s good, I guess? It is, isn’t it? Um…”

Souji laughs. “It’s good. You’re doing fine.”

Yosuke slumps against him once more. “Sorry. I still don’t really know how to talk about this shit. It terrifies me, Souji. Scares me more than I’d like to admit, but…” He moves his hand from Souji’s chest to wrap around his waist. “But I’ll always listen to you. I’ll always support you. I know personally, with you, I don’t feel the need to keep up this pretense of being an oblivious goofball. I can only hope you feel as comfortable with me.”

“I do.”

“I’m glad. You deserve to,” Yosuke says. He gives him one last squeeze, then pulls back and wipes at his eyes. They’re still close. Very close. And as Yosuke realizes this—a sly smile hanging from his lips—Souji ignores the sweeping lurch in his stomach.

“What?”

“Just… we keep talking about fairness. I think it’s only natural that…”

Yosuke stops mid-sentence. He grabs hold of Souji’s arms, leans ever so slightly forward on his tip-toes, and kisses him on the cheek. It’s over within a second, yet Souji’s certain the wonderful burn upon his skin will last a lifetime. 

“Call it even,” Yosuke whispers against his cheek. He runs his hands down Souji’s arms and thumbs over his wrists, and then he’s gone, disappearing into their room and sliding into bed like nothing happened.

In the aftermath, Souji stands on the balcony for an entire hour with a hand pressed to his sore-from-smiling cheek. The warmth of Yosuke’s touch rapidly fades away, and yet, as he falls asleep next to him later on, he finds that he’s completely forgotten the wind outside was supposed to be cold. 

September 10, 2011

Over ramen the next afternoon, Souji sets his chopsticks down and turns to Naoto at the bar.

“So, Shirog—actually, are you comfortable with me calling you Naoto?”

“That’s fine,” Naoto agrees.

“Naoto…” Souji says. It feels nice to use her name again. “Are you allowed to share any details about Mitsuo Kubo?”

“Such as?”

“An update, I suppose.”

Naoto swallows the last of her meal, then sits back on the stool with crossed arms. “Hm. Well, Kubo is still insistent upon his involvement in Yamano’s murder and the kidnappings, yet vehemently denies Konishi-senpai’s assault. Prosecutors are looking to take the latter issue to trial as a result. That will take quite a while to come to fruition, though.”

“Do you believe him?” Souji asks.

“Hm?”

“Kubo. Do you believe what he’s told you?”

Naoto smirks wryly. “And why do you wish to know my opinion?”

“You’re my friend, aren’t you?” Souji nudges her. “I value my friends’ opinions.”

The grin falls off of Naoto’s lips instantly. “It’s not very nice to make fun of people, Souji-senpai…”

Souji’s heart drops. He didn’t even realize his words could be construed like that. “Naoto, I’m not making fun of you. I really do consider you my friend. I had fun spending time with you yesterday, and I’m glad you could properly meet the others.”

“‘The others’, huh…” Naoto comments, tone a bit wistful. She glances around the restaurant for a moment, then returns her gaze to Souji. “You’d like to hear my thoughts? Very well. Kubo did not have a hand in Yamano’s murder, the kidnappings, or Konishi-senpai’s assault. My main reasoning behind all three of these issues is that he had absolutely no motive — especially not for Yamano or Konishi-senpai. His fingerprints were found on Konishi-senpai’s clothes, yes, but would you like to know something? The force have devoted a great amount of time to researching Mitsuo Kubo. What is likely the most significant fact we’ve uncovered is that Kubo is an active and popular member of numerous online, multiplayer video games, as well as anonymous chat rooms. Account from his parents, coupled with timestamps taken from these games and chat rooms, have revealed that Kubo had been home the night of July 9th from as early as 4PM.”

Naoto folds her hands on the bar, eyes serious and focused. “Konishi-senpai’s incident was reported at 09:57PM that night. Do you remember what I told you in the hospital a few months ago? It is estimated that she had been left under the water tower for at least two hours. I reason it could not have been more than three hours. That would make the time of the incident approximately 6PM at the earliest.”

“So Kubo couldn’t have done it,” Souji deduces. “That’s what you’re saying?”

Naoto nods. “That’s what I am saying.”

“Then how do you think his fingerprints appeared on her clothes?”

“Planted.”

“You sound awfully convinced.”

“I am. Are you not?”

Souji takes a deep breath. He looks over to where Saki sits, laughing amongst Yosuke, Teddie, and Chie. He really never thought he would get here — surrounded by the type of love and secure faith he thought only existed in fantasy. Even in the face of the cruelest evil that walks the Earth, his friends still manage to keep him in place. Yosuke catches his eye for a split-second, all mirth and unrestrained laughter and beautiful. That laughter turns into a gentle smile—a bashful duck of the head—as he pats Saki on the wrist and points to Souji. Saki grins so wide that her teeth glint in the restaurant’s lighting, even across the room. She makes a heart at him with her thumbs and index fingers. Rise joins her, then Yukiko, then Kanji. Souji attempts to return the gesture, and all of his friends laugh because his heart doesn’t look anywhere near as effortless as theirs.

“I am…” Souji eventually says, tone soft. He smiles, then readjusts his focus. “It’s clear that Kubo hasn’t actually done anything. I think that all he wanted was a chance at infamy.”

“I believe the same,” Naoto says. “His message history online proves just that. Souji-senpai…”

“Yes?”

Naoto tips her cap down. “There will be another kidnapping soon.”

I wish you wouldn’t do that to yourself, Souji wants to say.

“I know,” he says instead, already moving to prepare himself for Naoto’s dungeon soon. “It’s inevitable. I can feel it too.”

September 20, 2011

It’s a little too soon for Souji’s tastes.

The thing about Naoto’s dungeon is that it’s always felt… off. Sure, all of the dungeons have been off in their own ways, but Naoto’s has always just seemed so contradictory — completely backwards. The subdued, airy music that fills the base doesn’t make sense in comparison to the bulky partitions that bar every exit and entrance, nor does the blaring alarm and overhead announcement at every floor that more or less screams “Get the hell out”. It all makes even less sense when the team stands face-to-face with Naoto and her Shadow once more. Even last time, Souji noticed that there was a certain force to the way she spoke with or about her Shadow. He couldn’t ever place what it was. It still bothers him now, as Naoto’s fists clench between the sleeves of her lab coat, as she ominously hovers near a scalpel lying on the exam table, as she near imperceptibly flinches any time someone mentions the words boy, or man, or woman, or… oh…

How did Souji not realize this before?

“You must know already that what you yearn for isn’t to become an adult or become a boy…” Yukiko says to Naoto, and Souji knows she’s solely coming from a place of kindness, but this isn’t right. There’s a deep well of guilt churning in his gut that tells him this probably hasn’t ever been right. Was he really so caught up in himself last time to not take notice of how much his friend was suffering? 

Naoto’s eyes are unbelievably sad. There’s the beginning of a nod, and then…

“Naoto,” Souji gently interjects. He comes closer. “You’re about to accept these words, but… are you sure it’s what you really want?”

Naoto’s eyes widen in horror. “H-Huh?”

“Naoto, look. It’s not… it’s not…” Souji wracks his mind for the right words. What had Yosuke said to him not too long ago? What had he himself told Goro in Tatsumi Port Island? “It’s not always about sticking to the straight and narrow path. Sometimes it’s about breaking away — about carving your own and finding that the road less taken is more fulfilling. You don’t look happy at all right now. What is it that you want?”

“I can’t have what I want!” Shadow Naoto spits from beside its counterpart, voice breaking miserably. It shakes its head back and forth, looking for all intents and purposes like it may have another breakdown. “I hold honor and integrity to such an impossibly high degree. Now that you all know my dirty secret, what is the point in continuing this lie? In lying to myself?”

“Michiaki-kun’s parents called the other day,” Reiji Seta says. He strides closer to his son, crouching beside him at the desk he is hunched over in his bedroom, mulling over the answers for this night’s homework. “They told me something very concerning.”

Souji drops his pencil. He stares at a question on paper until it swims in his vision. “T-They did?”

“I’m certain you know what it’s about…” Reiji says — careful, critical. Manipulative. Souji’s always hated the way he talks. Always loathed the way it backs him into a corner.

Reiji slowly reaches forward and takes Souji by the arm. He pushes up the sleeve of his son’s school jacket until the multiple bruises underneath it become known. Several minutes pass by in silence as Reiji inspects them. After a while, he fixes Souji’s sleeve, rubs his head, and sighs.

“Your mother didn’t hear about the phone call,” Reiji says. “I don’t think it’s important that she does. I mean… you’re going to change your ways now, Souji. You understand that it’s wrong.” His tone leaves no room for argument. The usual. Reiji stands up and walks to the door. He doesn’t meet Souji’s eyes when he mutters, “You don’t want to upset anyone…”

The door closes. The next task of Souji’s homework is to draw the kanji meaning “unfair”. He presses his pencil against paper so hard that it rips.

Souji takes a deep breath. “It’s not a lie if it’s what you believe is right deep down.”

“And what?” Shadow Naoto sneers. “You don’t believe that it’s wrong? I am a woman. I want to be a man. You don’t see the issue here?”

Souji shakes his head. He doesn’t look at the Shadow. Instead, he looks to Naoto. “No. I don’t think there is an issue.”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah!” Kanji suddenly shouts. He smiles at Naoto — wide and proud. “What your Shadow’s sayin’ is only your insecurity. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with it. You gotta… you gotta follow your heart and shit, Naoto! ‘S not easy, but it’s always more rewarding.”

Rise joins with her own smile. “Exactly! We’ll be here to support you, Naoto-kun. And your secret is safe with us. Don’t worry.”

Yukiko takes one of Naoto’s hands in hers. “Naoto-kun, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I’m very sorry. I… I agree with the others. What it is that you want deep down… you shouldn’t ignore it. Your life isn’t meant to be dictated by the opinions of others. It’s yours, after all. Yours and no one else’s.”

Naoto looks at them all for a long moment—breathing shallow and shaky—then swallows and lets out an exhausted sigh. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and stands up.

“Y-You’re right. All of you,” Naoto says. “This… Shadow, I take it? It manifests when you consciously choose to ignore or suppress your inner feelings, yes? If I were to continue living in the fog… well, perhaps all I would be accomplishing is fueling its next return.”

“Trust me, you don’t want round two of these things,” Yosuke says, pointing to the Shadow. “You’ve got a lot of balls to stand up to yourself like that. Uh… w-wait. I didn’t mean t-to phrase it like-“

Naoto laughs — laughs. And he doesn’t stop laughing even by the time they reach the studio backlot and enter Junes.

**

Like he’s done so many times now, Souji drops another friend off at their house after facing their Shadow. Kanji, Yosuke, and Teddie had decided to accompany him to drop Naoto off. Boys’ congregation, he supposes. Kanji closes the front door to Naoto’s house after they all finish speaking to his grandfather. He sighs — exhausted. He had carried a passed-out Naoto over his shoulder the whole way here.

“You gotta start putting me on the front lines more, Yosuke-senpai,” Kanji says, rolling his shoulder. “I think I’m getting outta shape. Naoto probably weighs, like, a hundred pounds max, and still he felt like a big ‘ol boulder.”

“People are just dead-weight when they’re unconscious,” Yosuke says. “But yeah, you’re right. There were a lot of Shadows weak to electricity in Naoto’s dungeon. I could have used you more.”

Kanji snorts. “Heh. I’m only jokin’. I know how much you like to play favorites with Souji-senpai. ‘S cool.”

“D-Dude…!” Yosuke sputters, then stops and composes himself. “You know what? That was bait, Kanji. I refuse to rise to it.”

Souji puts on his best puppy-dog eyes. “I’m not your favorite? Really, partner?” Yosuke genuinely looks ready to blow a fuse, so he tones it down. “Kidding…”

“You’re my favorite, Sensei!” Teddie proclaims. He wraps his arms around Souji’s waist in a tight hug. “I’m not afraid to say it!”

Souji laughs. “Thanks, Teddie. You’re my favorite too.”

Yosuke groans. “Gross…”

“But Sensei…” Teddie says, more quietly this time. “Um, me and Kanji kinda need to tell you something.”

“What?”

Kanji rubs his neck. “W-Well… you know we’ve all got your back, right, Souji-senpai?”

Souji frowns. “Huh?”

Teddie nods enthusiastically and holds Souji tighter. “You’re not alone! No matter what you think! I used to think a life of loneliness was the only life for me, but you’ve all shown me different. You can’t… you can’t really think that when you leave Inaba we’ll just forget about you, can you? You’ve touched hearts far and wide here, Sensei.”

“Yeah,” Kanji agrees. “I don’t think anyone could forget you even if they tried, man.”

Souji trades a look with Yosuke. It seems he’s just as confused as himself. 

“Uh…” Yosuke regards the two with suspicious eyes. “You guys aren’t really making sense.”

Teddie breaks away from the hug. He stands awkwardly in the Shirogane garden, probably suffocating a poor flower. “W-Well, see… Teddie doesn’t really have dreams. I was confused by these new pictures in my head, so I asked Kanji-”

“And I had the same dream as Ted! With the curtains and shit!” Kanji yells. He looks back at Naoto’s house sheepishly, then lowers his voice. “A-Ain’t that a bit weird? But then I remembered what you and Saki-senpai told us not too long ago, and-“

“Okay,” Souji says quickly. There’s that familiar tightness in his throat — the sudden, paralysis-like rigidity that overtakes his body. “You know, I’m pretty tired from Naoto’s dungeon. We should all get going now.”

“But-“ Kanji starts.

“I-I don’t really like hearing about other people’s dreams, alright?” Souji cuts him off. His tone comes out a lot harsher than intended. He swallows. He wants the sickness that swirls his insides around to disappear. He wants his hands to stop shaking, dammit!

Kanji’s eyes widen. “Oh, um… okay. Sure thing.” He gives Souji one last look, then turns down the road and raises a hand in departure. “See ya at school, Senpai.”

Souji walks Yosuke and Teddie home. They don’t say much, but Souji has a hand fisted between Yosuke’s shirt the whole time. When they arrive, Teddie goes inside after bidding Souji a good night. Yosuke stays.

Yosuke carefully removes Souji’s hand from its death grip. “Dude, what’s up?”

“I…” Souji’s voice breaks. He tries again. “Can you come home with me?”

“You want me to walk you home?”

“No. I want you to… to stay over tonight. Please.”

Yosuke’s eyes soften. “Sure, partner. Let me go ask my folks.”

After dodging a drunk Adachi, ignoring Dojima’s off-putting glances, and assuring Nanako that “Everything’s fine. I just want to go to bed early tonight”, he and Yosuke finally find themselves alone in his room. Souji lies back on the futon and looks to Yosuke wordlessly. 

“Soooo,” Yosuke says, standing in the middle of the room with his hands shoved in the pockets of the sweatpants he borrowed from Souji. “You got an extra futon around here, dude?”

“Can you come lay with me?” Souji asks. He’s so tired. There’s no room in his mind for careful words at the moment. 

Surprisingly, Yosuke doesn’t seem to care too much. He crawls into bed next to Souji with a deep sigh. “Damn, I can tell you’re really upset…”

“How?”

Yosuke brushes Souji’s bangs out of his eyes with gentle hands. “‘Cause that’s the only way you’ll ask for my help.”

Souji huffs out a small laugh. “You know me so well.”

“Call it city boy intuition.”

“Mm, well… I’m…” Souji leans further into the touch. He hopes Yosuke doesn’t stop. “I’m scared, Yosuke.”

“Scared of what?”

“I… I don’t even know. Just something. Everyone keeps trying to tell me about these… these dreams… and I have no idea what they mean, but I can tell it’s something that I’m not going to like.”

“And what if they’re just dreams?”

“You know, I used to think that everything was pretty straightforward. A door’s a door. A TV’s a TV. A dream is a dream,” Souji explains. The image of his TV becomes visible where it sits just behind Yosuke’s shoulder. He closes his eyes against the sight. “After moving to Inaba, I’m not so sure anymore.”

“I guess awakening to a Persona will do that to a guy, huh?” Yosuke asks. He pulls Souji closer by the waist. “Come here, Souji. I know you want to get closer, but you won’t ask.”

“Don’t want to weird you out…”

Yosuke rests his head atop of Souji’s. “I think I’ve more or less gotten used to your weirdness.” He threads his fingers through Souji’s hair and strokes — soft, warm, safe. “You like it when I do this, yeah?”

Souji nods, winding his arms around Yosuke and settling close to his chest. His heart beats under his ear to a steady rhythm; his slow breaths lull him into a sleepy haze. “Makes me feel safe.”

“You are safe,” Yosuke assures. His breath tickles Souji’s forehead. “It’s okay to ask for what you want. You’re the only person I’d do this stuff for, you know.”

“Am I?”

Yosuke laughs. “Of course. You’re… you’re special to me. I don’t think another person has ever meant so much to me before. That’s why I don’t mind. I’d do anything for you, okay? Follow you to the end of the goddamn world, probably. So…” He coaxes Souji to lift his head up and looks him in the eyes. “So whatever you need… whatever you want… don’t be afraid to ask.”

I want you to kiss me, Souji thinks, so close to him that their noses brush. I want you to say that you love me, to say that I’m special again, that I’m yours, that you’re mine. I want you to hold me like this until I don’t know what sadness is anymore.

“I want you to stay with me…” Souji whispers.

Yosuke smiles. “Then I’ll stay with you, partner.”

Chapter Text

?????

“Welcome to the Velvet Room.”

Souji slowly opens his eyes. He’s indeed in the Velvet Room, summoned through his dreams outside of his own volition. Igor is nowhere to be seen — only Margaret seated on the couch opposite him.

“Where’s Igor?” Souji asks. His voice feels just out of his reach, like maybe it doesn’t even belong to his body at all. His head is heavy, too. Cotton-mouthed; molasses limbs. The usual within a dream.

Margaret ignores this question. She shuffles Igor’s deck of tarot cards. “Souji Seta… something inside of me longs to tell you that your journey is soon to become very interesting. Allow me to perform a reading tonight.”

Souji regards the deck with wary eyes, but complies nonetheless. “Sure.”

“This is a three card reading,” Margaret explains. “The first card will tell of what you aspire to be, the second will warn of a hindrance preventing this aspiration, and the third will offer a possible counter to this hindrance.” She shuffles the deck a few more times, then draws the first card and lays it on the table. She smirks. “The upright Strength… How very noble. When presented upright, this card refers to the strength of heart and mind, not physicality. Those who are drawn in by this card wish to control their strongest emotions and quell their deepest fears. You long for power, control, and the courage to look any fear in the eye and stand your ground despite it. What do you think? Does that sound accurate?”

Souji resists the overwhelming urge to laugh. “It’s spot on.”

“Interesting… but something stands in your way of this, no?” Margaret asks. She places down the next card. The atmosphere of the room grows ten times more oppressive than it already is. “The reversed Tower. Hm… you’re avoiding something, Souji Seta.”

Margaret stares at him with an unwavering gaze. Souji digs his fingernails into the velvet material of the couch and shifts uncomfortably.

“The Tower itself suggests imminent destruction. However, when reversed, it may indicate that you are purposefully resisting this destruction. Change and unfamiliarity are necessary aspects of life. When you don’t allow them to come naturally—when you shield your eyes to their existences—you’ll often find that they will pull the rug out from under you when you least expect it.” Margaret traces the card with an immaculately manicured finger. She doesn’t break her stare — not even once. In fact, the deep gold of her eyes continues to swim behind Souji’s own even when he blinks. “This resistance is not unlike a Shadow. You’ve seen this countless times over with your friends. The more they deny it, the more agitated and severe it becomes. Keep that in mind.”

Margaret moves to draw the final card, then stops. She holds the deck out to Souji instead. “What say you draw the solution to the obstruction in your path?”

Souji pulls a card from the middle of the deck with sluggish fingers. “The upright Justice.”

“Ah,” Margaret says with an air of a laugh. She doesn’t take the card. Instead, she allows Souji to hold onto it. “How fitting. Truth and fairness… these are two particular ideals you hold rather close to your heart, yes?”

Souji nods. He gazes at the card intently. It’s almost hypnotic. “That’s right.”

“In order to overcome what blocks your path toward strength of heart, it seems you must ascertain a painful truth — one separate from your main pursuit. It’s likely that this obstruction has become too large to simply walk around. Instead, you must hone your current strength and destroy the blockage completely. In doing so, you will find that, eventually, the cards of fairness will fall right into your hands.”

Souji grimaces. He places the card on the table and pointedly looks away from it. Though, there aren’t many places to look in the Velvet Room. He finds himself face-to-face with a window housing a sea of fog. 

And his reflection drowns in it. 

“Souji Seta…” Margaret near-whispers. “A wholly unshakeable heart is something absolutely no one in this world has or will ever possess. The complexity of human nature prevents it. However, that doesn’t mean there isn’t opportunity for you to grow. I can sense that you have strength inside of you just begging to be utilized. You’re more than capable. After all, that is why you’re the wildcard.”

“I shouldn’t be…” Souji mutters. He shakes his head back and forth and clutches the couch tighter. “It shouldn’t have been me.”

“But it is you,” Margaret says decisively. She stands and strides over to Souji, gently placing her fingers under his chin and lifting his head up. “And now, it is up to you to either accept that… or give up.” Her gaze is firm, yet she gives him the hint of a smile nonetheless. “You are approaching a crossroads — a point of no return. So, what will be your choice, Souji Seta? Will you face the truth eye-to-eye?”

Silence follows the first part of Margaret’s question — nothing except for the eerie lurch of the tires and light clinking of the wine glasses that line the limo’s counters. She looks to the window next to Souji, where the fog just outside steadily becomes more and more dense with each passing mile. It creeps along the edges of the window, like if it really wanted to, it could seep through the cracks and smother them both. Margaret turns back to him. Souji doesn’t even try to pretend that the gold of her eyes hasn’t grown sharper. More obvious.

“Or will you lose yourself in the fog?”

October 6, 2011

“So,” Naoto says after he has recapped what he remembers of the night he was kidnapped. “As I suspected, since Mitsuo Kubo is still in custody, he reasonably cannot be our culprit.”

The rest of the Investigation Team share perplexed looks across the various drink-and-snack-filled Junes table. 

Yosuke looks the most irritated out of all of them. He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “But he still may not be wholly innocent. You have any idea when his trial for Senpai’s assault will be held?”

Naoto shakes his head. “There is no date set in stone. However, I imagine it will be some time next year.”

“Next year?” Yukiko asks incredulously. “Why the long wait?”

Naoto shrugs. “That’s just our judicial system’s normal.”

“But…” Rise says. “If Kubo isn’t our culprit for Ms. Yamano’s murder and the kidnappings, then he had no reason to go after Saki-senpai in July. No motive whatsoever. I hate to say it, but I really don’t think he’s done anything.”

“Same,” Souji says.

“Concurred,” Naoto adds.

Chie hangs her head and groans. “So we’re right back at square one! What the hell?!”

“Not exactly,” Souji says.

Everyone turns to stare at him.

Kanji rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, whaddya mean by that, Senpai?”

This has been a long time coming. A long, long time. And honestly? Souji’s glad it’s finally here. Naoto has been rescued; his friends are finally all together on one team. There’s simply no need to keep everyone in the dark about Namatame anymore. Naoto had told them enough — enough that Souji suggesting the possibility of a delivery driver as his friends’ kidnapper wouldn’t seem too far-fetched. 

It’s time.

Souji leans forward over the table and lowers his voice. “Hasn’t there been a commonality among the nights of the kidnappings? You all have said it each and every time: ‘The doorbell rang. I opened the door. After that, my memory is hazy’.”

“Where are you going with this?” Yosuke asks.

“You just said it a few minutes ago, Yosuke. You asked, ‘The killer came right up to the door and rang the bell?’ as if you couldn’t believe he would be so bold. Why then, would anyone open the door if-“

Naoto’s eyes go wide. He snaps repeatedly as it all clicks into place and points a finger at Souji. “If we didn’t know who the person was outside!”

“Exactly.”

“So… what?” Kanji asks. “This guy’s hidin’ in plain sight? No fuckin’ way.”

Teddie gulps and looks around the food court. “He could be anywhere! Right on our bear behinds!”

Yosuke turns his chair to face Souji fully — completely alert. “Keep going, partner.”

“Well… Naoto said ‘it was a matter of minutes’ from the time of the kidnapping to being thrown inside the TV, right? Chie said the TV could be on the side of the road, but I think that would be too risky for the kidnapper.”

Chie laughs sheepishly. “Y-You know I just blurt crap out all the time, heh.”

Yukiko gives her a sympathetic smile and a pat on the hand, then turns back to Souji. “Why do you think that timeframe was so short, Souji-kun?”

“Unless the kidnapper lived right next door, the only other way I could imagine him finding a TV so quickly is with a car.”

“And if he is using a car…” Naoto adds, “then it must be a rather large one for efficiency’s sake.”

Souji nods. He’s extremely pleased that Naoto has caught on so quickly with his lines of deduction, but really, he hadn’t expected anything less from him. He was just as thorough that night in the interrogation room last time around. “I think so, too.”

Saki twirls her hair as she thinks. “So… we’re dealing with a large car and someone who is able to exist before us in plain sight. Enough to walk up and ring a doorbell without causing suspicion…”

“Who could fit that description?” Chie asks.

Souji allows silence to hang in the air for a moment. After a few seconds pass, he takes a deep breath and steels himself. It’s finally come to this. “I think… our culprit is a delivery driver.”

Silence once more. Then, all at once, the table absolutely erupts into chaos.

Kanji bangs a fist onto the table hard enough to send several soda cans flying. “I sure as shit got a delivery that night, Souji-senpai!”

Rise’s face lights up. “Hey, me too! Right before I left the shop!”

Naoto laughs incredulously. “Of course! No one would ever think to look twice at a delivery truck!”

“The delivery service here…” Yosuke says, eyes deep and intense. Souji can almost see that wonderful mind just past them working like crazy. “It’s family run, isn’t it? I don’t remember the name of that family, partner. Do you?”

Souji nods. “Namatame.”

Yukiko gasps. “Namatame… Taro Namatame!” She closes her eyes and puts a finger to her temple, as if recalling something important. “That was the name of the man Ms. Yamano was involved with! The press kept trying to swarm her about it the night she stayed at the inn.”

Naoto continues laughing with several dumbfounded shakes of his head. “Mayumi Yamano… that’s our connection to Namatame. And Namatame is our connection to the delivery service. It fits perfectly! Souji-senpai, you are absolutely brilliant.”

Would you still say that, Souji thinks, if you knew I’d been lying to you for months? If you knew I purposefully let you be kidnapped just so you’d still be at my side in the end?

Souji clears his throat. “So, if I brought this idea up to my uncle, and we could somehow find Namatame’s address-“ 

Yosuke interrupts him. “Wait a minute. First of all, that’s gonna definitely further tip Dojima-san off that you’re very involved in this case. We can’t have you in the shit with him, dude.” Yosuke has a point. A lot of them, actually. Just remembering that night in November is enough to send an icy chill down Souji’s spine. “Second, we don’t actually have concrete evidence that Namatame’s behind this. Our line of reasoning is strong, yeah, but without something tangible, who’s gonna believe us? We’ll look like idiots showing up at Namatame’s doorstep like that.”

Damn… he’s right. I’m jumping the gun here. I need to calm down and think of an alternative confrontation.

“Hey…” Chie says, a bit warily. She fidgets with the pins on her jacket. “I kinda just had a crazy idea.”

“Go for it,” Yosuke says.

“Well… look at it this way: Namatame will probably kidnap someone again, right? I have a feeling if we pay really close attention to the TV and to what people are saying around town, maybe we can catch him in the act next time! Then we’ll have our proof!”

Kanji furrows his eyebrows. “You’re sayin’ we’re gonna predict who will be thrown in next?”

Chie nods fervently. “Yeah! Think about it: the victim is always the talk of the town, and they’re always shown on TV beforehand. When we find out who that is, all we gotta do is stake out their house for a few nights and wait for a delivery truck. Then bam! Namatame’s finally where we want him!”

“Chie-chan,” Saki says. “That seems a little dangerous…”

“We have no idea if Namatame works alone or not,” Naoto says. “No idea what kind of weapons he may possess. We could be ambushed.”

Chie sighs. “I know. I know it’s risky, but… but guys, what other choice do we have? Dojima-san’s out of the question, and you know anonymous tips aren’t really anonymous. It’s not a foolproof plan, but neither is a world inside a TV. There are tons of things we still don’t know about the TV world, and yet it’s our most reliable method. Yosuke, come on. What do you think?”

Yosuke twists the cord of his headphones around his index finger as he thinks. “You know… we risk so much inside the TV. It’s really not so different, is it? The only thing is we won’t have our Personas at our disposal. But everyone’s pretty proficient with their weapons, so I don’t think we would be completely vulnerable. Let’s think on it for a few days. If anyone else has an idea, feel free to bring it up, okay?”

There are some lingering conversations, then everyone gradually disperses from the table. For some reason, though, Saki stays behind until Souji himself gets up.

“Is something wrong, Senpai?” Souji asks.

“Souji-kun…” Saki says, then hesitates. She looks toward the evening sky with a finger to her lower lip. “You know what’s strange?”

“What’s that?” 

“I don’t remember hearing a doorbell ring. I don’t remember opening a door or receiving a delivery. All I remember is the police station, and then… and then I… went home?”

Souji frowns. “You’re not sure if you went home? You told us you did a while ago.”

“My memory of April is so hazy. All of it,” Saki admits. She puts a hand to her forehead and shakes her head. “Maybe it happened on the street my house is on, yeah? But I’m pretty sure it didn’t happen when I was inside my house. And my assault in July… why would Namatame only come back for me? Why do my incidents seem so different from everyone else’s?”

Souji ignores the lurch in his stomach. “I think we’re going to find out soon enough. I can feel it in my heart.”

For a while, the two stay in companionable silence and watch the sun sink below the trees, subsequently painting the entirety of the empty food court in oranges and yellows. The days are getting shorter; the nights longer. Soon enough, it will be cold all the time. Soon enough, it will be November again. There’s the image of a barren, lonely house in Souji’s mind. A fridge with nothing in it. A kotatsu that no one sits around. An “I’m home” that is only met with silence. A home stripped of the love and warmth that makes it just that — not simply a house, but a home.

Souji swallows, takes a deep breath, then turns to Saki. She doesn’t notice him staring.

“Just confused parents and a dark house. Just rotting cream puffs.”

It’s been a long time since the first April 15th, and a long time since the second one, too; a long time since the sight of Yosuke and Naoki’s tears, since the sickening stomach-drop of hearing “One of our third-year students, Saki Konishi” echo off the walls of the gym. Maybe one day, those painful memories will fade from Souji’s mind for good.

We’re one step closer to the truth, Souji thinks. We’re closer than we’ve ever been before. I have to keep believing in that. I have to keep this passion at the forefront of my mind. Not for my sake, but for the sake of those who I love — who I once left behind to comfortable elusiveness, and who were once taken from this world far too early.

Saki finally turns to him with a small smile. Souji returns it. It seems a lot easier to do when the power lines and telephone poles don’t box her head in — too short to reach over the top of Junes.

October 9, 2011

The band event is definitely new. 

Not that Souji minds, of course. He knows he’d do absolutely anything for Yosuke. Even practice the bass guitar in the school’s music room with him well into the evening, after everyone has already called it a day and went home. It’s not too bad. Like most things, Souji’s picked up on the instrument pretty quickly. However, he can’t say the same for the rest of his friends. Naoto has some experience, but it’s just been too long since he last played. Souji just hopes himself, Yosuke, and Rise will be enough to distract from the others’ ear-splitting cacophony. 

“You sound good over there, man,” Yosuke compliments. He leans against one of the large windows in the music room, strumming his guitar with a pleasant smile. The low-hanging sun behind him makes him look all the more angelic. “I don’t think I have to worry about you tomorrow.”

“It’s pretty fun,” Souji says genuinely. He’s never been very serious about the band club, or any of his clubs for that matter; they’re more or less places he goes to just to spend time with others. But this? Creating something with his best friend? This is special. Not to mention, he can’t remember even one instance where he was allowed to express himself creatively as a child. “Even though we’re on a tight schedule, I’m still enjoying it.”

“I’m glad to hear it, partner. But uh… you’re kinda messing up the last part of the song. Just that very last chord.”

“Oh.” Souji turns to look at the sheet music, then stops himself. He’d picked up a bit on how to read music because of band, but… no. This idea is much better. “Could you come show me the right chord real quick?”

“Sure thing.” Yosuke puts his guitar down and walks over to him. “Okay, so first of all it’s in the next few frets up. Not uh… wherever the hell you were.”

“Can you show me where my fingers go? Just want to be sure I’m doing it right.”

“Of course,” Yosuke says. He comes behind Souji and places warm fingers over his own, fixing them where they need to be. The hair on the back of Souji’s neck stands up at his proximity; his heart practically jumpstarts. He smirks. This is exactly what he wanted. “Okay, now play.”

Souji lifts his right hand in preparation, then intentionally moves the pinky of his left to a different string entirely right before he strums. A terrible noise, really.

Yosuke groans. “Dude, that is not what I just showed you!”

“Sorry.”

“You sure don’t sound it,” Yosuke complains, but there is no heat to his voice. He puts careful fingers over Souji’s once more. Perfect. “You need me to help you with your right hand, too? Jesus.”

Souji chuckles. “No. I mean, you did once tell me you thought I was great with my hands, so-“

“Aghhhh, S-Souji!!” Yosuke sputters. He puts his head between Souji’s shoulder blades in defeat and sighs deeply. “Can we maybe not bring up the stuff I said when I was younger and dumber?”

“You sure? Because I can always show you just how great I am with-“

“Shut up, Souji!”

October 10, 2011

The crowd the next day is huge. 

None of them were expecting a crowd this large, and certainly not one so enthusiastic. It takes Souji forever to push just halfway through it to get backstage, and even still, he is stopped by Dojima, Adachi, and Nanako along the way.

“Big Bro!” Nanako shouts. She grabs his hand and jumps up and down in glee. “Hey! Are you nervous? I hope not, ‘cause I know you’ll do just fine!”

Souji grins. “You think so?” He looks at the two adults. “Hi, Uncle. Adachi-san. I’m a little surprised you two came.”

Adachi laughs. “And miss out on what will probably be the town’s most exciting event all year? No way!”

Dojima, miraculously, shares his laugh. “That’s true. Inaba hasn’t had this much excitement in forever. Good excitement, that is.”

“Yeah. I think everyone could use the break,” Souji says. He knows he sure could. “Well, thank you for coming out to watch. It really means a lot.”

“No problem, Souji,” Dojima says with a warm smile. He pats his nephew on the shoulder. “Knock ‘em dead.”

“Break a leg, kid!” Adachi chimes, giving him the same pat. “Man, that’s a whole lot of violence, isn’t it? Oops.”

Nanako beckons Souji closer in a whisper. “I told Dad over and over that he should come see you play, ‘cause I remember what you told me one time about Uncle Reiji and Aunt Reiko not coming to Parents’ Day at your school. It made me think about how you stood up for me and told Dad to come to mine. I was sad that you were sad, so… I hope this can make you happy somehow, Big Bro! We love you lots!”

“Nanako…” Souji mutters. He’s not surprised to find that his voice has become very choked-up. The fact that Nanako would go to such lengths to make sure he’s happy, to make sure he never feels as abandoned as she did… it’s incredibly touching. 

He has no idea what to say. There are no words that could ever convey just what that sentiment means to him. So, he simply crouches down in the middle of the dense crowd and embraces his sister in a tight hug. He hopes that’s enough.

And when she eventually pulls back—eyes kind and mature far beyond her years—Souji thinks that it’s probably more than enough. Of course… Nanako, of all people, would understand this sadness the most.

**

Backstage, Rise immediately rounds on him.

“Souji-senpai!” Rise shouts. She latches onto his arm with a wide smile. “Hey, it’s last minute, but I had a really cool idea!”

“What is it?”

“How would you like to sing with me on stage? Just in some parts?”

Souji raises an eyebrow. “Sing? Um… why would I want to do that?”

Rise sighs. “You know, you’re so blunt sometimes that it’s borderline mean. Anyways, I just think the song would be better with a little more harmony! It would probably take away from the atrocity of everyone’s playing skills, don’t you think? Your voice is so deep that I bet it would fit well with mine. And…” A sly smirk plays at her lips. “You don’t want Yosuke-senpai to have to move away because of how bad our band is, right?”

Souji blushes. “K-Kanji’s voice is deep, too. Why can’t he do it?”

Rise flicks him on the forehead. “‘Why can’t he do it?’ Because Kanji is the biggest klutz I’ve ever met, you goofball! What makes you think he can harmonize?”

“Fine…” Souji grumbles. “Which parts?”

“Just some of the lines in the chorus. It’s gonna be really fun! Don’t worry!”

Rise gives them all a sweet pep talk before they go onstage, which does its part in boosting morale. As they all stand behind stage waiting for their cue to go, fidgeting from nerves, (Or in Teddie’s case, bursting at the seams) Saki starts… to sniff him?

“S-Senpai…” Souji laughs a bit. “Do I really smell that good?”

Saki says nothing. She pulls him closer and sniffs the shoulder of his jacket, even more deeply.

Souji laughs harder. “Is this supposed to be an attempt to calm me down? I think it’s working, actually.”

Saki shakes her head. Her eyes are steely, deadly-serious. She holds the fabric of Souji’s jacket between her fingers like it just became sentient and killed her family. “That’s not it…”

“Hey,” Yosuke breaks through their conversation. He inclines his head toward stage. “They’re calling us. Let’s do our best, okay?”

In all fairness, it doesn’t go as bad as they were expecting. In fact, it was actually pretty good. Rise was right — the added harmony was a nice attention grab, and wasn’t even that nerve-wracking once Souji properly got into it. What’s more, singing was pretty fun. Liberating in a way. He wouldn’t mind doing it more.

“Listen to them, Souji-senpai,” Rise says after they finish their song. She gestures to the cheering crowd. “They want an encore, but ‘True Story’ is the only song we all know! What should we do?”

Souji spots Nanako, Dojima, and Adachi in the crowd. He gives them a wave. “I don’t know. Maybe-“ 

He freezes. That’s… that’s Namatame! Namatame, right there in the crowd! Standing directly behind his sister!

Souji seizes the microphone. “Nanako!”

The crowd immediately grows silent as all eyes turn to him. Dammit… he really didn’t think this one through. Nanako tilts her head and frowns. She stands in between Adachi and Dojima, clutching one of their hands on each side. Namatame stands directly behind her — tall and ominous.

On stage, Yosuke whispers, “Partner, you good?”

“Um, I-I…”

Shit, Souji’s already forgotten that the microphone is still on. Why, of all places, of all times, does Namatame have to be here?! Souji’s chest tightens; Nanako’s form blurs; sweat rolls down the microphone. This is getting bad.

“Oh!” Teddie suddenly shouts. “I think I get it, Sensei! You want Nana-chan to come sing the Junes jingle with us, right?”

Souji lets out a relieved sigh. Thank God for Teddie. “Yeah. Sorry, I blanked.” He points to Nanako. “That’s my little sister in the crowd, Nanako. Nanako… you know a song everyone would like, right? Everyone at your Junes?”

Nanako instantly lights up. She turns to Dojima, and though Souji can’t hear from the distance he stands at, he can clearly see the delighted way her lips form around the word “Junes”. After a moment of deliberation, Dojima nods. Souji practically cannonballs off the stage and picks Nanako up in his arms. In the process, he inevitably makes eye contact with Namatame. Souji holds Nanako tighter, considers asking Dojima and Adachi to move forward in the crowd and away from the man.

Namatame tips his hat down and gives the barest hint of a smile. “Good show.”

“Isn’t it?” Adachi agrees. “And Nanako-chan here is no doubt about to win the crowd over!”

Well, Adachi wasn’t wrong about that. The Junes jingle ends up being an entirely a cappella song by the Investigation Team and Nanako, though the crowd seems to have no qualms about that. Nanako outshines them all, unsurprisingly, and the crowd cheers and shouts for her performance just as loud as they did for “True Story”. In the middle of it all, Souji watches as Namatame ducks his head and slinks his way out of the crowd like a lurker in the shadows. If Nanako notices how adamant Souji is about sticking close to her, she doesn't comment on it.

Afterward, many of the people Souji has befriended outside of the Investigation Team come to share their thoughts about the performance.

Hisano is the first to spot him, the poor thing. Tears stain her cheeks, yet her eyes only hold stars. “Oh, Souji-chan. Thank you, sweet boy. Thank you.”

Ayane is next. “I never knew you had such a beautiful voice, Souji-senpai! I wish we could use it for band.”

“Dude,” Kou says, placing a hand on Souji’s shoulder. “Dude. You’re great at basketball and all, but I think you should spend more time on music.”

Daisuke nods. “You looked like you were having a lot of fun.”

“And Nanako-chan is soooooo cute!” Ai squeals. She leads Nanako in a silly dance throughout the Junes food court, both of them laughing incessantly. “I sure wish I had a cool sister like you!”

Yumi watches them with her own grin as she speaks to Souji. “Yeah, I agree with Ichijo. That was a great performance, Souji-kun. It’s too bad you kind of suck at drama.”

“Harsh…” Souji says, but he’s smiling too. 

While he’s talking with Naoki, he finds himself interrupted by a group of reporters and a large video camera. 

“Care to answer a few questions about your performance?” one of the reporters asks Souji and the rest of the team. 

Yosuke’s eyes light up mischievously. He gathers the team around him to discuss it. “This would be great publicity for Junes and my old man!” He falters. “Oh, but… Rise-san…”

Rise shrugs. “I already said I won’t do anything beyond a handshake or an autograph, so it’s a no from me. But I don’t mind if you guys want to get interviewed. Actually, I think you should, Yosuke-senpai. You were so worried about your dad getting fired, after all.”

Yukiko frowns. “But Rise-chan… we’re a team. It wouldn’t be fair to do this without you.”

“Well…” Rise trails off as she thinks. “How about just Yosuke-senpai gets interviewed then? Since it’s mainly a Junes promo?”

“You sure?” Yosuke asks.

“Mhm. Maybe one more person should accompany you. For moral support, you know?”

Yosuke immediately rounds on Souji, practically shaking him by the shoulders. “I can’t trust Ted to not say something stupid. It’s gotta be you, partner. It’s gotta. Please?”

“How could I ever say no to you?” Souji asks. He wonders if Yosuke knows he’s one hundred percent serious. 

Yosuke squeezes his shoulder in gratitude. The cameraman starts rolling and the reporter zeroes in on the questions.

“That was an incredible performance we just heard from you and your group of friends!” the reporter says in that artificial, over-the-top way Souji hears across the TV so often. “Everyone here really seemed to enjoy it. So, I was curious to know: is this the first time your band has ever performed live?”

Yosuke handles this question. He clears his throat and straightens up. “As a matter of fact, yes it was. We and Rise-san have been practicing ‘True Story’ for weeks.”

Souji holds back his laughter. Trust Yosuke to bluff his way into professionalism. He thinks his partner could probably pull it off, what with all the advocating he’s forced to do for Junes. 

“Weeks, you say?”

Yosuke nods. “Junes is very organized about these things. The manager of this branch, my father, is always careful to take into consideration how Junes can benefit our community here in Inaba.”

“Ah, I see,” the reporter says. “Your father must be very proud to have raised such a hard-working son, and one that cares about his community so much.” He turns to Souji. “And what about you, young man? Do you also work for Junes?”

“No,” Souji says. “I’m a… uh…”

“He’s a family friend!” Yosuke chimes. “From time to time he helps us out when we need an extra hand for promotions. Very reliable guy Souji is, mhm.”

The reporter laughs. “Souji-kun, is it? I have to say, when we all saw another singer would be joining Rise-chan, we were a bit wary. But you both simply blew the crowd away! What a great pair! Do you plan to sing with Rise-chan again? Or maybe by yourself?”

“Thank you. With Rise, maybe someday. By myself… well, I don’t have any ideas in mind right now.”

The reporter genuinely looks a bit disappointed. “Really? None at all? But you’re so talented! I’m sure Inaba is just dying to hear you sing again!”

Souji chuckles and scratches the back of his head. “Do you think so? I don’t know… I wouldn’t feel very confident singing without Rise.”

“Ah, so it’s like that. A young man like you, of course you’d want your girlfriend by your side.”

“Oh… oh no. You’ve got it wrong.” Souji laughs again, more nervously. “Rise isn’t my girlfriend.”

The reporter furrows his brows. “Is that so? You two have wonderful chemistry. It’s hard to believe that you’re not seeing each other. Are you sure you don’t have feelings for her?”

Now that’s not a very professional question. Why in the world did he ask that? Souji thinks maybe it’s the same weirdo who’s interviewed all of his friends. That would explain a lot.

“Um…” Souji says. “I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but I thought this interview was about the performance.”

“Dodging the question, eh? That’s alright. We’re running out of time anyway. Thank you.”

“So much for promoting Junes…” Yosuke grumbles as the group of reporters and cameraman walks off. “Sorry, Souji. That guy was kind of a creep.”

“You thought so too?” Souji wonders. “Why’d he want to know so much about me?”

“I thought he’d at least ask one question about Nanako-chan,” Yosuke says, looking to where she and Ai are still dancing, alongside a very reluctant looking Naoki. “Country folk are pretty weird, huh, partner?”

Souji turns the reporter’s words around and around in his mind as he helps his friends break down the stage and clean up decorations. He’s unsure if it’s just the nature of the business, but why is it that those involved in Inaba television seem so… unaware of the weight their words hold? People don’t just go around asking about your love-life like they’re your grandmother that doesn’t know the concept of boundaries. Still…

“You two have wonderful chemistry.”

Souji looks to Rise next to him as he takes down another balloon from stage. He can’t deny he didn’t have fun today singing with her in front of all those people. He’d been nervous as hell, but Rise’s focused and confident energy as she took her place before the microphone was truly a sight to behold. After seeing that, it was almost as if he’d been singing for years. The crowd had eaten it up and begged for more. They’re good together.

But even so… Souji thinks. No matter how much others tell me we’d be a good pair, no matter how much I know Rise thinks about it, my heart still wants Yosuke. 

“Senpai?” Rise asks. She snaps her fingers before him a few times. “You’re spacing out again. Ooh, is there a Velvet Room here, too?”

And I want Yosuke so much. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life. But the thing is… I know I’ll never be with him in the way that I want. 

Rise tilts her head when Souji doesn’t answer. Her hair looks more soft than usual as it moves under the evening light. Her nails are a new color, Souji notices — golden. She’s beautiful, kind, and compassionate just like Yosuke. And yet… his heart doesn’t even so much as jump.

“It’s called ‘gay’. You can’t be gay, Souji-kun, or you’re a bad person!”

Souji holds the balloon in his hands tighter.

“I mean… you’re going to change your ways now, Souji. You understand that it’s wrong.”

If it’s so wrong, if it’s so bad, then… 

“Senpai,” Rise says once more. “Are you not feeling okay? Want to go sit down?”

Then why can’t I just get over it? By being with someone who does want me? Wouldn’t that work?

Souji’s eyes widen. The balloon pops between his fingers.

“H-Hey-” Rise starts.

“Rise,” Souji interrupts. He places two hands on her shoulders. “Will… will you be my girlfriend?”

Honestly, he expected Rise to jump around and scream like a kid at Christmas. Maybe even be bold enough to try and plant a kiss on his lips right then and there. What he doesn’t expect is for her to more or less yank him by the ear to an empty hallway near the bathrooms and corner him against the wall.

“Why the hell would you ask me such a stupid fucking question, Souji-senpai?!” Rise spits, crowding into his space. Her pupils are blown — absolutely incensed. 

Souji attempts to move away, but Rise isn’t having it. She slams two hands against the wall near his head, effectively trapping him. The scene is almost reminiscent of that strange hallucination in her dungeon.

“Well?! Aren’t you going to explain yourself?”

Souji breathes in shakily. He presses his back into the wall and wishes he would just melt away into it. Rise is nearly an entire foot shorter than he is, but right now, it feels like she’s even taller than Kanji. 

“Wh-What…” Souji begins. He swallows, then tries again. “Um, how is it a stupid question? I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Rise’s eyes darken further. “The problem is I know you don’t like me! So why would you ask me such a humiliating question?!”

“What…? I-I do like-“

“Shut up,” Rise snaps. She points a finger at him. “Don’t try to sit there and lie to me. Out of everyone, you should know best that lying gets you nowhere.”

“Rise, I really don’t understand where you’re going with this…”

Rise scoffs and backs away. She crosses her arms. “You’re the smartest kid at Yasogami, and still you need me to spell it out for you.” She shakes her head, far less intense now. Souji’s heart sinks with the realization that it’s disappointment seeping into her expression. “Did you forget that I can pick up on your feelings inside the TV? And really, being so in tune on the other side makes it a piece of cake to see through bullshit over here. Do you honestly think I haven’t realized how much you like Yosuke-senpai?”

Souji’s blood freezes over. “No I don’t. I don’t. I don’t like him.”

Rise places a hand over one of his and sighs. “Senpai, it’s fine that you like him. I promise. Just… why in the world would you ask me to be your girlfriend if you don’t even like me? Do you know how humiliating that feels?”

“I… I thought…” Souji says, then grimaces as a few tears slip down Rise’s cheeks. She quickly wipes them away and sniffs. “Oh no. Rise, please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…” He straightens up and takes a deep breath. Real nice. He’s made the one person that actually does like him cry. “The truth is, I have a very difficult time accepting the fact that… t-that I’m gay. I keep thinking, you know, maybe I can… can fix it or something. It’s…” He rubs his forehead. “God, it’s so stupid! You’re completely right. I’m just… I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Rise strokes his hand as a few minutes pass by in silence. “Souji…” she eventually whispers. The lack of Senpai makes him all the more anxious. “I hope you know that I support you, but I can understand feeling that way. I mean, I’m not even sure of my sexuality myself, but… I know I like you. A lot. And I like you so much that sometimes I just put you on this pedestal, thinking you can do me no wrong.” She takes her hand away and faces him directly. Her lower lip quivers as she speaks. “But… but that? That hurt. And I never thought you—of all people—would be someone to hurt me like that. Even if that wasn’t your intention, that kind of thing is unbelievably insensitive. Imagine Yosuke-senpai doing this to you.”

“I-I know. I realize that now…” Souji mumbles. “I’d hate that. I think my heart would break right in half.”

Rise smiles sadly. “Yeah… right in half…”

Jesus. You’ve really screwed this one up, Seta.

Souji reaches out to her. “Rise-“

“Don’t.” Rise gently pushes his hand away. “I’m sorry. I think… I think I just need some space, alright?”

“Okay,” Souji says, wanting nothing more than to put his idiot head through the wall behind him. “I understand. I hope you have a nice evening. And… and I’m…”

He doesn’t even get to say “sorry” before Rise disappears around the corner, faint sniffling trailing after her shadow that moves across the tile of the food court. He stares at his own in her absence. It grows in size with each passing second under the setting sun — blackens and intensifies until he swears he’s drowning in it. 

October 20, 2011

Exam week passes Souji by quietly and numbly. Honestly, he can’t even remember much of what’s happened in the past few days. He knows he hasn’t done much of anything after school lately besides stay in his room, be miserable, and practice the bass. He thinks he may have briefly talked to Yosuke once, but fumbled some excuse about needing to get home about a minute in. He spots Rise a few times in the halls. Each time, he ducks his head and walks quicker.

Even Dojima has taken note of his nephew’s stiff and withdrawn state. He tries to question it a few times, but Souji shuts the whole conversation down either by feigning tiredness or pulling the “I have homework to do” card. When the day of the first warning letter rolls around and Souji pretends to be sick in order to skip an entire day of school for the first time in his life, he isn’t really surprised that Dojima believes him. Nanako leaves him that morning with a kiss on the cheek, tea, and various cartons of medicine on his bedside table. Souji drinks the tea and nothing else, then does yardwork for the remainder of the day in hopes to catch the culprit leaving a letter in his mailbox. 

He doesn’t. The only person he sees the whole day is Adachi. 

“Hey, kid,” Adachi greets, leaning against the gate that divides the carport and the road. “Don’t you have school today? What are you doing home?”

“Hi, Adachi-san,” Souji says. He stands from the garden and walks over to Adachi. “I, uhh… don’t feel so great today.”

“Shouldn’t you be inside getting some rest, then?”

Souji chuckles. “Well, don’t tell Uncle this, but I may have faked being seriously sick. Still, I really don’t feel that great.”

Adachi is quiet for a moment as he regards him. Then, “Trouble with a girl?”

“Yeah, actually. Something like that. How’d you know?”

“‘Cause you look like your heart’s been ripped right out of your chest. I know that feeling well. You need someone to lend an ear?”

Souji shakes his head. “I’ll be fine, but thank you. I appreciate it. What about you? Did you need something?”

“Oh, right. Heh.” Adachi laughs and scratches the back of his head. “Almost forgot what I came here for! Dojima-san sent me to pick up a shredder. One in his office crapped out on us. Problem is, I don’t have a clue where it’s at. Could you help me out?”

“Sure,” Souji says. He makes his way to the front door. “Do you want to come in for a minute?”

“Ah, I think I’m alright out here. Not too sunny today, and not too cold either. I should enjoy it.”

It doesn’t take very long for Souji to find the shredder in Dojima’s room, and in no time he’s back outside and handing it off to Adachi. However, before Adachi can even thank him, Souji’s phone goes off in his pocket. Saki. He debates letting it go to voicemail, but the thing is, Saki rarely texts him as it is, and he doesn’t think she’s ever called him before. It might be important. 

“Hello?” Souji answers, giving Adachi an apologetic look.

“Hey, Souji-kun. Is everything alright? You’ve never missed school before, except for when your arm was broken, so everyone was kind of worried. Especially because it’s the last day of exams.”

“I just didn’t feel too well today. Uncle’s already called the school about my exams. I can make them up tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay. Um… you haven’t looked too well recently. Your face is all pale and your dark circles are coming back. I know there’s probably something on your mind that you don’t want to talk about with us, but we’re still here for you to rely on. Please take care of yourself.”

Souji sighs. “Thanks, Senpai.”

“Of course. And listen, if you have some time… there’s something else I wanted to tell you. Our conversation got cut short the day of the Junes performance.”

Souji laughs. “Yeah, I remember that. What in the world was that all about?”

“Sorry,” Saki says. There’s an air of a laugh in her voice too. “I know that seemed weird, but it was actually pretty serious. Do you remember when I told you I could smell the perpetrator the night of my assault? Souji-kun…” She takes a deep breath. “Your jacket smelled just like him.”

Souji freezes. He grips the wall that surrounds the house and looks blankly at Adachi, simply because he has nowhere else to look. “What…?”

“Everything okay?” Adachi mutters.

Souji nods and attempts to school his expression into something more neutral. It seemed so much easier to do in the last timeline, in the very beginning, when he had no intention of forming any kinds of relationships during his time in Inaba, too fearful of being hurt or left behind. That all had changed rather quickly, though. Now he feels like he wears his heart right on his sleeve — bleeding and all.

“There were so many people at Junes, Senpai…” Souji whispers. “I came into contact with a lot of people by pushing through the crowd.”

“I know. Isn’t that scary? That must mean Namatame was at the event, right? Lurking in plain sight, just like you told us.”

I completely forgot to tell them about spotting Namatame, didn't I? Souji thinks. All because I was too wrapped up in my own damn problems… Not that it really matters, anyway. Namatame didn’t attack her.

“I guess so. Let’s talk more about this later, okay? I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.”

“Oh, sure thing! Talk to you later, Souji-kun. Feel better. We really missed you today.”

“Was that the girl?” Adachi asks as he hangs up the phone. 

“What? Oh… oh, no.” Souji pockets the phone and puts his head against the wall with a deep sigh. “That was my friend Saki.”

“Saki? Like Konishi? That’s the girl we were dealing with in July, yeah? She still doing alright?”

“I don’t know. She thinks the person who attacked her was at Junes the day of our band’s performance. She said when she was blindfolded that night in July, the rest of her senses were heightened. She could smell the guy. And apparently she could smell him the other day, too.” Souji huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “Weird, right? So weird…” He digs his fingers into the wall so hard that a nail breaks. “God, I’m tired of this.”

Adachi places a hand on his shoulder. “What’s up? You don’t look so good.”

Souji continues to shake his head at nothing in particular. “Isn’t it ridiculous? This killer… he’s able to exist without consequence in crowds filled with my friends and family. He can show up anywhere and not arouse suspicion. He’s directly in the line of pursuit and yet doesn’t have to worry about running.” He finally lifts his head and looks Adachi in the eyes. “He’s standing right in front of me, and I can’t even see him, Adachi-san.”

For some reason, Adachi’s reaction is a bit delayed. He stands in silence with a vacant stare before finally grimacing seconds later. “You know, kid… you really should stop trusting others so easily. Especially in a small town like Inaba.” He doesn’t meet Souji’s eyes, instead choosing to gaze at a spot just past his shoulder. He clenches and unclenches his fists multiple times. “Here… somebody’s probably just dying to pull the rug out from under you.”

“I used to think the same thing,” Souji admits. “‘Don’t get too close to anybody. Keep them at arm’s length.’ But that kind of life is absolutely exhausting, Adachi-san. There are many people in Inaba who are important to me. You included.”

Adachi laughs, but there isn’t much humor to it. “Me included, huh? There’s no reason it has to be me…”

“Hm?”

“Ah, it’s nothin’. I better get back to the station. Dojima-san’s probably gonna cuss me out for being so late.” Adachi gives him a wave. “See you around, Souji.”

Before Souji has time to reflect on Adachi’s strange, dismissive behavior, or even of what Saki had told him, he feels his phone vibrate with a text. Seems his uncharacteristic avoidance of others is coming back to bite him. 

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:47
> GOOD AFTERNOON SOUJI-SENPAI. R U AVAILABLE 2 CHAT? Y/N. 

Souji laughs at Naoto’s ridiculous texting style. Even Dojima texts better than him, and he’s nearing old man status and has huge thumbs. 

Souji Seta - 15:47
> Yes.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:47
> FIRST OF ALL. HOW R U?

Souji Seta - 15:47
> I’m fine. I should be well enough to come to school tomorrow.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:48
> EXCELLENT. WE ALL MISSED U V MUCH.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:48 
> SENPAI. THERE IS SOMETHING IN PARTICULAR I WANTED 2 DISCUSS W/U. ABOUT WHY U HAVE BEEN SO DISTANT THESE DAYS. R U UP FOR SPEAKING ABOUT IT?

Souji sighs and sits down in the grass. Oh well. It’s not like he didn’t see this coming. His thumbs pause over the keypad for a few minutes.

Souji Seta - 15:50
> Sure. Did Rise talk to you?

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:50 
> SHE ASKED IF SHE COULD CONFIDE IN ME. SHE DID NOT STATE EXPLICIT DETAILS. JUST THAG U ASKED IF SHE WOULD B UR GF. AND SAID SHE KNEW U DO NOT LIKE HER ROMANTICALLY.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:50
> **THAT

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:51
> PLZ DO NOT B MAD AT HER. SHE IS V UPSET. SHE HAS COME 2 TRUST ME QUITE A LOT. AND I TRUST HER. ALSO, I WOULD NEVER TELL ANOTHER SOUL WHAT SHE TOLD ME.

Souji Seta - 15:51
> I’m not mad at her. I made a stupid mistake and she has every right to be upset. Everyone deserves to have someone to confide in. It’s alright. I appreciate the confidentiality. 

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:51
> OK GOOD. NOW LISTEN. I JUST WANT 2 REITERATE SOMETHING. SHE DID NOT TELL ME DETAILS. 

Souji Seta - 15:51
> Okay…? I wouldn’t expect her to. She’s a trustworthy person. You all are.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:52
> WELL SO R U SENPAI. I KNOW U WOULD NOT ASK SUCH A HURTFUL Q W/THE INTENT 2 B CRUEL. UR JUST NOT THAT PERSON. U MUST HAVE HAD A VERY SPECIFIC REASON.

Souji groans. Oh great. Naoto is going to use his deductive skills, isn’t he?

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:52
> I BELIEVE I MAY HAVE DEDUCED SOMETHING.

Right on the money. 

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:53
> SENPAI. I HAVE NOT KNOWN U PERSONALLY FOR V LONG, ALTHOUGH IT FEELS LIKE I HAVE. I KNOW WHATEVER UR REASON MAY HAVE BEEN, IT WAS NOT ROOTED IN CRUELTY OR CROOKEDNESS. 

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:53
> THAT RULES OUT THE POSSIBILITY OF IT BEING A DARE OF SOME SORT, OR JUST 2 MAKE HER UPSET. NOW. I DO NOT BELIEVE U R THE TYPE OF PERSON 2 ASK SOMEONE OUT 4 FUN. AM I CORRECT? Y/N.

Souji Seta - 15:53
> Yes.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:54
> I ALSO PUT A LOT OF FAITH IN RISE-SAN’S ABILITY 2 SEE THRU BS. SO I DON’T DOUBT WHAT SHE SAID ABOUT U NOT HAVING FEELINGS 4 HER. BUT I WOULD LIKE 2 CONFIRM THIS W/U.

It may be fall, but the sun is still getting to be a bit unbearable now that Souji’s been in it all day. He walks inside, slides the door shut, and fixes a glass of water in the kitchen as he thinks over his response. The condensation from the glass sticks to his fingertips, and when he wipes it off on a rag, it only serves to be replaced by a nervous sweat.

Souji Seta - 15:57
> Naoto, I would seriously pay good money to hear you say “bullshit” out loud.

Souji Seta - 15:57
> No, I don’t have feelings for Rise. I never have.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:57
> TELL U WHAT. IF I DEDUCE INCORRECTLY, I PROMISE 2 SAY BS OUT LOUD 4 U. 

Souji Seta - 15:58
> Deal.

Souji Seta - 15:58
> Well? What’s your conclusion, Holmes?

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:58
> I WILL B HONEST. I DON’T KNOW MUCH ABOUT ROMANCE. 

Souji Seta - 15:58
> I don’t either. 

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:58
> EVEN SO, I BELIEVE U R SOME1 WHO CARES 4 OTHERS VERY DEEPLY. JUST THINKING ABOUT WHAT U DID 4 ME IN MY DUNGEON MAKES ME V EMOTIONAL. IT IS A FACT THAT U CARE. THAT U HAVE A HEART BURSTING AT THE SEAMS.

Souji leans against the counter and takes a drink in an effort to rid his throat of the terrible lump that frequents it much more often than he’d like. He almost feels as transparent as the glass.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 15:59
> I HAVE COME 2 THE CONCLUSION THAT U R RUNNING AWAY FROM SOMETHING. RUNNING AWAY FROM UR HEART. FROM UR FEELINGS 4 SOMEBODY ELSE.

Souji closes his eyes, where all he sees is gold reflections and seas of blue velvet. “You’re avoiding something, Souji Seta.”

It’s almost ironic, in a way. Here he is running and hiding behind whatever he can get his hands on, only for it to now present itself in the form of a glaring, all-caps interrogation. There’s a persistent knocking on his heart that tells him this is far from the worst of it. 

Souji Seta - 16:00
> “You may be right”.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:00
> “THE PROBABILITY LIES IN THAT DIRECTION”.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:00
> NO BS 4 U. SORRY.

Souji hesitates on his next message, but decides to just bite the bullet. He can trust Naoto. 

Souji Seta - 16:02
> I’ll just tell you straight out: it’s Yosuke. I think from that information alone you can already see, for a number of reasons, why I’m so insistent on running away.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:02
> AND OF THOSE REASONS, U BELIEVE… HE DOES NOT RETURN UR FEELINGS?

Souji smiles wryly.

Souji Seta - 16:02
> I thought that was a given. Have you listened to him talk for two seconds?

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:03
> OMG.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:03
> SENPAI. NOW LISTEN. I SAY THIS W/ALL THE KINDNESS PRESENT IN MY HEART:

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:03
> R U STUPID.

“Probably…” Souji whispers.

“Probably what?” a small voice asks next to him.

Souji startles, nearly dropping his glass. “Ah! Nanako, I didn’t hear you come in. Welcome home. How are you?”

“I’m okay!” Nanako says. She gives him a big hug. “It’s funny… it’s usually me welcoming you home! Are you feeling better?”

“A bit, yeah.” Souji pockets his phone. His heart drops. “Is… is that mail in your hand?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s see…” Nanako skims through the letters. “This one’s for you, but I dunno who it’s from.”

No, no, no. No way! He’s been standing out there all day long, and in the few minutes he’s been inside talking to Naoto, the killer delivered the letter? Even worse, Nanako may have come into contact with him!

“D-Did… did you see, um, the mailman?” Souji gets out. A few vibrations sound in his pocket, but he ignores them.

“The mailman? Nope. He must have come before I got home.”

“Did you see anyone at all outside?”

“Umm, no?” Nanako frowns and indicates for Souji to crouch down. He does, and she puts the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Oh, but I did run into Adachi-san with our shredder earlier! He said he stopped and talked with you. But he looked kinda worried…”

“Just Adachi-san, huh…?” Souji mutters with a resigned shake of his head. 

Of course this would happen, he thinks later that night as he gets ready for bed. It always does. I get so caught up in myself that I end up failing someone else. It happened today with Nanako, the other day with Rise, with Chie’s Shadow, with… with Namatame… and my friends and the fog and the train and-

Souji huffs in frustration. He rolls over in bed to put his phone on the charger, then stops, remembering that he had completely left Naoto hanging earlier. He flips open his phone and checks the messages he missed.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:04
> U CANNOT POSSIBLY THINK HE DOES NOT FEEL THE SAME WAY! AND DON’T U KNOW ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS?

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:04
> ALTHOUGH I MAY NOT HAVE MUCH 2 SAY AT TIMES, I STILL HAVE EYES. YOSUKE-SENPAI IS EXTREMELY SWEET ON U. DID U 4GET I’M A DETECTIVE? HIS BODY LANGUAGE SAYS IT ALL.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:04
> ESPECIALLY THAT NIGHT AT CLUB ESCAPADE. HE WAS LEANING INTO THOSE KISSES. AND WHEN U TURNED UR BACK, HE WAS SMILING.

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:04
> U SHOULD HAVE SEEN HIM AT SCHOOL W/O U 2DAY. LOOKED LIKE A LOST PUPPY. 

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:05
> SENPAI. U R SO SMART. HOW DO U NOT NOTICE THESE THINGS? 

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:08
> R U STILL THERE? 

SHIROGANE, NAOTO - 16:17
> GPA IS HOME. I HAVE 2 GO NOW. BUT I IMPLORE U 2 OPEN UR EYES A BIT MORE, MY DEAR WATSON. U WILL SEE YOSUKE-SENPAI’S AFFECTION 4 U IS VERY MUCH THERE. VERY MUCH REAL. RIGHT IN FRONT OF U. 

Souji reads the messages over and over again, not quite believing they aren’t actually some pathetically-concocted fantasy being played out in his dreams. He even goes so far as to pinch the skin of his arm, but still the words remain before him, burning themselves into his eyes.

“Leaning. Smiling. Affection for you. Very much there. Very much real.”

It just doesn’t make any sense. Yosuke is the closest thing to “straight” Souji’s ever seen in his life. Honestly, all he does is talk about girls and wanting a girlfriend, or his weird nurse magazines, or makes snide remarks about Kanji, or… or…

Or kisses me when no one else is around, or holds me close in bed with no complaint, or knows that I like my hair played with. Knows that he’s the only one that knows that; knows that he’s the only one that gets to do it. Is this how friends behave with each other?

Souji’s phone vibrates once more.

Partner :D - 23:01
> hey. u comin 2 school tmrw? feel well enough?

Souji Seta - 23:01
> Yes.

Souji’s heart races. He doesn’t want to stop talking to Yosuke. In fact, he wants to find out if he’s really as oblivious as everyone keeps telling him he is.

Souji Seta - 23:01
> Did you have a good day?

Partner :D - 23:01
> ehhh exams r exams. boring w/o u around prtnr

Or calls me “partner”. Only me.

Souji, despite his shaking hands, allows his fingers to type of their own free will. The Justice is the path to The Strength, he reminds himself. Honesty is the path to courage.

Souji Seta - 23:02
> I missed you today, Yosuke.

Souji Seta - 23:02
> I missed you a lot.

There’s a bit of a stretch until Yosuke’s next message.

Partner :D - 23:07
> haha ur not dying dude

Souji Seta - 23:07
> I know. I still missed you. 

Another stretch. He wonders what Yosuke’s face looks like right now. Tries to imagine him in the empty space of the futon that he had occupied—had held Souji in, spoke sweet words that only he was privy to—just weeks ago.

Partner :D - 23:10
> well we get 2 see each other tmrw rite? u want 2 hang out after skool? i have this week off work bc of exams

Souji Seta - 23:10
> I’d like to, but there’s something about the case I need to discuss with everyone tomorrow. Another day, I promise. 

Partner :D - 23:11
> sounds good. ill tell every1 2 meet after skool so we can talk. goodnite prtnr

Partner :D - 23:11
> (hey its 11:11! make a wish)

Souji Seta - 23:11
> I think I’ll wish for you-

Souji almost sends it. Almost, but ultimately backspaces. Even if lying in the dark somehow makes him feel far more bold than usual, it’s too sappy; too forward. Not…

Yet? he wonders. Not yet, or… not ever?

It’s 11:12 by the time he makes up his mind.

Souji Seta - 23:12
> Ah, I missed my chance. Sleep well, partner.

October 30, 2011

Strangely enough, despite Souji’s careful avoidance over the last few weeks, a lot of people have continued to try and grab his attention. A lot of people. Some of them people he would never expect, like a random kid he’s never met from Nanako’s school, or some guy he’s spoken probably two words to on the basketball team, or even Kanji’s mother. He’s become used to people pulling him in a million different directions for favors, but never like this. Most of them don’t ask for anything nowadays; they just want to talk. Not about themselves — about him. Some ask about the Junes performance, some ask about his hobbies, or his family, or what it was like in Tokyo, or even his favorite color or what he’s going to have for dinner tonight. Most of the questions are relatively harmless, but a few certainly border on creepy, not unlike the reporter from the other day. It’s just… strange. He doesn’t know what to think of it.

Aside from that, when Souji tells the rest of the team about the warning letter, they believe it to be from Namatame. They’ve all become pretty taken with Chie’s ambush idea, which Souji doesn’t really have a problem with, but… something’s still off. Something that bothers him even more so than the town’s sudden obsession with him: there hasn’t been one mention of Nanako in the papers or on TV. And he knows that’s probably a good thing; that’s a really good thing. It means that there’s a high chance Nanako isn’t being targeted by Namatame. But then there remains the million-dollar question: who, if anyone, is being targeted?

Souji can’t figure it out.

Rise’s started to warm up, just a bit. A passing smile at the shoe lockers, sneaking under his umbrella one rainy morning — it’s small, but it’s a lot more than Souji feels he deserves. She even tries to help them make sure the group date café for the culture festival doesn’t completely suck, though there isn’t much room for improvement in the first place. Teasing Yosuke across the table is just as fun as last time, though. Souji had managed to completely prevent the cross-dressing/beauty pageant altogether, thankfully, (Though he actually sort of enjoyed wearing a skirt; it was more for the girls’ sakes) which means he gets to spend most of the festival walking around booths with Nanako and his friends. All in all, it’s not bad.

“Which was your favorite booth, Souji-kun?” Yukiko asks him as they and the rest of the team lounge in the lobby of the Amagi Inn, waiting for their rooms to be ready. 

“Watching Margaret scare people was pretty funny,” Souji replies.

Yukiko snorts and bangs a fist on the back of the couch in the room. “Y-Yeah! I really like Margaret. You should ask her to visit our world more often.”

Chie groans from her spot on the couch. She tilts her head back to look at them. “Yukiko, you’re totally killing my vibe here! Me and Nanako-chan are trying to have a conversation! And hey, does this TV have a remote lying around anywhere?”

“Oh, yes. Let me go find it.”

While Yukiko fetches the remote, Yosuke—to Souji’s other side—pats him on the back with a long sigh. “Dude, I’m so looking forward to getting in the onsen later. Growing up, we used to visit Hakone sometimes. You ever been there? I’d die to visit the onsen there again.”

“I don’t think I’ve been there,” Souji says. “Although, I do remember the first time I went to one. It was in Kamakura at some inn near the beach. Koshigoe, I think? My parents were attending a conference there.”

“Koshigoe… hey, are you talking about Kakiya?”

Souji nods. “Yeah, I think that was the name.”

“Partner!” Yosuke shakes him by the shoulders with a wide grin. “Remember how I told you my parents and I used to drive to Kamakura on Sundays when we lived in Tokyo? We always stayed at Kakiya! What if we saw each other back then and didn’t even realize it?”

Souji laughs. “Of course we didn’t realize it, Yosuke. It was long before Inaba. And besides, we could have run into each other in Tokyo as well.”

“Well yeah, but there’s millions of people living in Tokyo. A specific, tiny inn I visited a lot really narrows it down!”

Souji doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s only visited Kamakura once. 

Yukiko returns with the remote. Chie starts flipping through channels as she continues talking with Nanako. She even skips over a rerun of his and Yosuke’s interview at Junes.

“And then I was like, ‘Well, why can’t I just bring the little guy home with me? My parents have always talked about getting a dog!’ So that night… huh…” Chie stops full sentence. She leaves her arm hanging in the air with the remote as she gapes at the TV. “That’s…”

Yukiko gasps sharply. “That’s…!”

“Shit…” Kanji breathes. 

Saki and Teddie remain silent, too shocked to speak or even move. 

Rise grabs Naoto by the arm and urgently points at the TV. “N-Naoto-kun, look! What me and you were talking about earlier!”

“Oh…” Naoto blinks several times. “That looks a lot like-“

“What you’ve all been dreaming about…” Souji finishes in a whisper. He clutches the fabric of the inn’s couch so hard that he hears something rip.

Before him—between lines of static and grainy pixels—there is the image of a man standing in a room with chevron-patterned black and white floors, completely surrounded by red curtains. Barring the color changes, it looks exactly like the room in his dreams. What’s more, the man seems just as lost as he had been — walking through a curtain, walking back out, aimlessly wandering around in circles. He always ends up in the exact same place.

A sense of foreboding twists in Souji’s gut. “W-What is this show, Chie?”

“Umm…” Chie brings up the channel guide from the remote. “‘Twin Peaks’.”

Souji remembers, in the first timeline, Dojima had told him that he liked this show one night over coffee. Something about how the protagonist has an obsession for “damn good coffee” as well. Something about how it’s strange that a blonde-haired high school girl gets murdered in a small town, just like how it happened in Inaba. Something about how “That damn Andy reminds me of Adachi’s sorry ass, hah!”

“Grampa used to watch this show when I was younger,” Naoto comments. “I don’t recall this part, though.”

Souji watches as the man on screen (“Cooper”, Naoto suddenly remembers) wanders around and around these curtained rooms. He comes into contact with a few people: “Maddy”, one says; “Caroline”, “Annie”, Cooper softly whispers. There are times when Cooper bleeds—trailing it across the headache-inducing floors—and there are times when Caroline and Annie bleed. There is one time where a girl with blonde hair and a black dress shrieks in Cooper’s face so loud that Souji nearly fears the inn’s staff will come running. At one point, someone who looks identical to Cooper comes into frame, yet Souji can immediately sense this counterpart is deeply wrong. It’s the eyes — glazed and fogged over, like the tell-tale gold sheer of a Shadow. The counterpart begins to chase Cooper through the curtains with a sickening grin plastered on its face.

Souji can’t take it anymore. He turns his back on the screen. This is just like my dream. The curtains, the floors, the blood, the eeriness, my Shadow…

“Souji-“ Yosuke says, but is cut off by Souji’s phone ringing.

Souji takes his phone out of his pocket and reads the caller ID. He wishes he hadn’t. “No, n-no… what… why’s she…”

Reiko Seta doesn’t call his phone directly unless something is wrong. Reiko Seta doesn’t call his phone directly unless Souji has absolutely fucked something up. And Reiko Seta’s calling it right now.

The call ends. Souji checks his missed calls. Ten — all from her.

“Shit,” Souji whispers as the phone rings in his hand once more. “I can’t. What the hell-“

“Let me,” Yosuke offers. He holds his hand out. “You’re, uh… you’re in the onsen. You’re not here right now.”

Souji starts to shake his head, then stops. He really doesn’t want to talk to her, and he knows he’s already in enough trouble. It doesn’t matter now. He hands Yosuke the phone and leads them outside to the inn’s garden, where no one else can hear the call.

Yosuke clears his throat, then flips the phone open and puts it to speaker. “Hello.”

“…Who is this?” Reiko asks.

“Yosuke Hanamura. Souji’s friend.”

“Souji doesn’t have friends,” Reiko snaps decisively.

Souji shoves his hands in his pockets and clenches the fabric tightly. Here we go; her second sentence and it’s already started. There’s a part of him—the smallest, most childish part of his heart—that clings to the hope that every new conversation might be a turning point — that the mother who raised (For lack of a better word, the least-childlike part corrects) him may finally realize the magnitude of her words and actions. 

He decides to kill that part of himself and bury it right here, right now, in the garden of the Amagi Inn. 

One of Yosuke’s eyes twitches. “He has me.”

“Hanamura, why don’t you just tell me where my son is. I need to speak with him.”

“He’s taking a bath right now. Do you want me to give him a message?”

Reiko huffs in annoyance. “You sure can. You can ask him what he did to land himself such abysmal scores on his exams, and why he hasn’t bothered to return my calls today.”

“Abysmal?” Yosuke asks incredulously. “He got Bs. What are you talking about? We’ve been busy at our school’s culture festival all night, so that’s probably why his phone’s been on silent.”

“Yes, abysmal. He hasn’t made lower than an A the entire time he’s been in Inaba! Hasn’t even dropped from his spot at the top of second year! It’s unacceptable.”

Yosuke visibly scowls this time. “What? Do you have any idea how much Souji even does outside of school? It’s incredible that he’s able to make such good grades on top of it all. You should be proud of him!”

“How do you expect me to be proud of a son who is constantly slacking off?” Reiko asks, cold and viciously mean. Typical; familiar. “Who doesn’t take what is asked of him seriously? Go tell him to get out of the bath.”

“Hell no!” Yosuke spits, voice near-venomous. “Jesus, lady. Do you always talk to him this way? No wonder-“

Souji abruptly grabs Yosuke’s arm and shakes his head so hard that he actually goes a bit dizzy. He brings his voice to a whisper. “Please don’t say anymore.”

“What the-“ Yosuke jabs the mute button. “Souji, you can’t possibly think I’m going to sit here and let her talk about you like that!”

“It doesn’t matter, okay?” Souji pleads. He loathes the passiveness in his tone. “It doesn’t. Just… just say you’ll tell me to call her when I get out of the bath.”

Yosuke practically has steam coming out of his ears. “It does matter! How am I supposed to-“

“Hanamura, are you still there? Hanamura, you need to put my son on the phone right now.”

“Please give it to me,” Souji says. “And let me be alone for a second, okay?”

For a moment, he honestly believes Yosuke is about to snap his phone in half. Then, he begrudgingly hands it over and heads back inside, muttering something about “Should’ve let me give her a piece of my mind…”

The call goes as he expected. Lies about being sick during exam week (Because really, it’s not like he can tell her “Hey, I screwed one of my closest friends over by asking her out, even though I’m gay. Oh, did I mention I’m gay? Another round of disappointment for the books, right, Mom?”) and how “Holding back because of a little cough won’t get you into college, Souji Seta” and “Maybe if you would spend less time with that Hanamura kid, you’d have a working head on your shoulders.”

“Actually-“ Souji says, then snaps his mouth closed so fast that his teeth clack together.

Reiko laughs. “‘Actually’ what? Go on. Say it. I dare you.”

Souji swallows down his fear. He thinks of something else: of Kamakura tingeing his dreams. Of a little boy chasing him down the halls of Kakiya in hopes to invite him out to the beach that afternoon — of that same boy, years later within the walls of the Amagi Inn—taller and smarter but still just as kind—turning off a TV and no doubt assuring a worried sister that her Big Bro’s just fine. 

“Actually,” Souji repeats. “Yosuke’s helped me out a lot this year. All of my friends have. I don’t know why you make it out to be such a bad thing. Maybe it’s just projection.”

There’s a pause. A thick, nasty silence that drowns out the whole of Inaba—the whole of Japan—in Souji’s mind. He thinks he can hear that childish part of him right under his foot in the wake. It screams, and wishes, and begs-

“You’re lucky you’re in Inaba,” Reiko says through another mirthless laugh. “Say that in front of me when you come back to Tokyo and see where it gets you.”

And it doesn’t matter. Souji presses his foot into the Earth and smothers it for good.

“Probably with another broken bone, yeah?” Souji laughs too, just as unkindly. Maybe even more. “Did you even know I broke my arm in July? Do you even know there’s a damn murderer who has been running around Inaba since April? So really, your threats thousands of miles across the Pacific Ocean are the least of my worries. I have to go now. I’ll try to not let your pathetic son get himself killed in your hometown, or God forbid, earn less than an A.”

Souji hangs up without another word. He crouches down in the garden, stares at the sōzu hidden between the rocks and azaleas, and thinks of Kamakura once more — remembers submerging himself beneath Pacific waters and contemplating never breaking the surface again. 

**

Thankfully, they don’t accidentally walk in on the girls’ turn in the onsen this time. Naoto had really worked himself up to joining them, but backed out at the last minute. They all had told him it was understandable—“Don’t force yourself”—and even Kanji had offered to stay behind with him in the boys’ room and play a board game. Teddie leaves Souji and Yosuke alone for the most part on the other side of the onsen, either jumping off the rocks into the water or lazily floating on his back. 

“Ted’s such a kid…” Yosuke comments softly, sinking back into the water and looking upward at the night sky. “Look, partner. You can see every star you want in Inaba.”

“Mm.” Souji looks up as well, watching as the steam from the onsen fades away into the darkness. “Pretty. I like picking out constellations.”

“Yeah? You have a favorite?”

“Orion,” Souji says immediately. He points at the constellation hanging in the sky — thinks of all the times in Tokyo he’d sat miserably at his window and wished to be as far and free as Rigel and Betelgeuse lining his armor. “I don’t really know why. He seems all great in size and mighty with his weapons, but he can’t even defeat a little thing like Scorpius chasing after him. Imagine your immortalization depicted as being forever trapped. Sounds terrible.”

Yosuke laughs. “Ehh, I guess so, but at least he’s being chased by your star sign. That reminds me, your birthday’s coming up soon. Anything you wanna do?”

Souji closes his eyes as he thinks of his birthday in the last timeline. He had never told his friends when it was back then, but it hadn’t mattered anyway. He had spent it entirely alone — opened the fridge that night only to find it empty as always, ripped the calendar that screamed “NOVEMBER” at him from its place above the house phone and ran it through the shredder, scrubbed mercilessly at the floors in an attempt to rid the house of the lingering scent of Dojima’s cigarettes, and washed all of his clothes five times, then broke down and cried when they still reeked of the hospital. 

“Just… want to see everybody. All together,” Souji eventually says, voice thick. “You, Nanako, Uncle, and everyone.”

“Sure. You know I’ll be there,” Yosuke says. He’s quiet for a moment, then nudges Souji’s shoulder. “Hey, partner… I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“Uhh, well I guess it’s not really a question. It’s more like… like, uhhh… I remember a while back you told me you don’t get along with your folks, but… I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like. Um.”

Souji opens his eyes and glances over. “Like what?”

“Like…” Yosuke sighs and leans closer to whisper. “Like maybe it runs a little deeper than that?”

Souji tenses, but keeps his face carefully blank. Very carefully. “It doesn’t. Really. Don’t worry.”

“Okay… but you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I’m telling you everything,” Souji lies through his teeth.

It doesn’t matter, he thinks, once again falling into that comfortable passivity. Really, it’s not even that bad… There are others who have it worse. 

Yosuke just stares at him for a moment, as if searching. A drop of water slowly spills from a strand of his hair and into the onsen. Souji tracks the movement from start to finish. 

“Alright…” Yosuke eventually mutters. He leans back and resumes his study of the sky. “I still don’t think your mom should talk to you that way. Not at all. That’s not how you talk to your child.”

Souji shrugs. “That’s just how it is.”

“You said that last time, too. Back when you asked her for the bike. And you said it in Iwatodai when you told me about what happened in middle school. I wish you wouldn’t keep saying it. You don’t have to take shit from anybody, Souji. It’s not anyone’s place to take your life from you. No one’s at all,” Yosuke says, voice so brutally raw. (And, Souji notices with a certain heat to his face that he blames on the onsen, so protective). His expression softens as he moves closer to Souji in the water. “I’m always gonna stand up for you, partner. Always. No matter what. But I just wish you would do the same for yourself more often.”

“Yeah, well…” Souji blinks the wetness from behind his eyes and looks to the stars once more, watching as one falls right out of the sky. He still wishes, just as he did when he was a child, that he was as far away from this world as Orion is. “Maybe someday.”

November 4, 2011

“Did you guys see the Midnight Channel last night?” Yosuke asks Souji, Chie, and Yukiko in their homeroom that morning. He’s sprawled out at his desk — hair in disarray and jacket nearly all the way unbuttoned. 

Yukiko turns around in her chair to face him. She traces the back of the chair with her index finger, as if it’s a soothing action. “I did. Didn’t it look like a boy?”

“My screen was way too blurry,” Chie comments. “I couldn’t tell.”

“So was mine,” Yosuke says. “But the way they stood… it looked so familiar. Problem is, I can’t think of anyone who fits all the criteria for a kidnapping.”

“Same,” Souji says. “No one at all.”

As the four sit in silence and contemplate, Souji listens to the steady rain just outside the window of the classroom. He looks first to Chie, who is muttering names of people and listing items off on her fingers at her desk. Next, to Yukiko still tracing the chair, her head rested on its back and long hair trailing down the side. Finally, to Yosuke, who sighs miserably and seeks out Souji’s guidance in the form of puppy-dog eyes.

“What are we gonna do, man?” Yosuke asks. “We can’t catch Namatame in the act if we don’t even know who he’s targeting.”

Gathered in homeroom, talking about the Midnight Channel like this, the scene is almost reminiscent of April 2011 — the very first time, when all Souji knew of Inaba was neverending rain, the kind girls he was seated next to, and the cute kid who he had rescued from a garbage can. If he looks out through the fog-covered glass closely enough, he can almost see it in his mind’s eye: that same rain painted across a gloomy spring morning, taunting the oblivious new kid in town as to what evil was soon to stain every moment of his life.

“At least it’s not Nanako…” Souji whispers to himself.

Later, as the final bell of the day rings and everyone rises from their seats, Souji corners Yosuke with a question. “Remember how I promised you we would hang out soon? Do you have some time today?”

“Agh, partner…” Yosuke frowns. “I really wanna spend time with you, but I have to work in thirty.”

“What time do you get off?”

“At seven.”

“If you want, you could come to my house for dinner afterward,” Souji suggests. Yosuke would never say no to food; Souji’s sure of it. A foolproof plan. “Uncle and Nanako will be in a parent-teacher conference until about eight or eight-thirty, so we’ll have the house to ourselves for a while.”

Yosuke throws him a smirk. “Yeah? Why does that sound like a proposition?”

Souji feels his face heat considerably. 

Oh, two can play at that game.

“I mean…” Souji says, inching closer and lightly taking hold of Yosuke’s jacket, “it could be, if that’s what you want.” He buttons up what Yosuke had missed this morning, then fixes his collar around his headphones, making sure his nails graze his neck. He doesn’t miss the undulation of Yosuke’s Adam’s apple, nor does he miss the quickened pulse against his fingertips. He slowly raises his gaze to Yosuke’s. “Then I could do that again, just in reverse.”

“J-Jesus, dude…” Yosuke breathes. He playfully shoves Souji’s shoulder. “You’re so full of shit.”

Now it’s Souji’s turn to smirk. “So that’s a yes, then?”

“It’s a yes to the dinner,” Yosuke emphasizes. “Not to-to…” He makes a show of checking his phone. “Oh, would you look at that? Dad asked me to come in early. Great. Seeya.”

**

Souji Seta - 18:57
> You really liked the tonkatsu I made a while ago, right? 

Partner :D - 18:57
> yes omg r u makin tht!! im gna scream!!!! u spoil me prtnr

Partner :D - 18:57
> mom likes it 2. she makes it evry so often and its good but it jst does not cmpare 2 urs at ALL

Souji laughs softly as he dips the meat into the oil, listening to the satisfying sizzle. Though he’s glad to have a few hours alone with Yosuke, he can’t help the sense of unease that creeps up his back at the dead-silence of the house. He’s thankful that this dish creates so much noise. 

He looks around the house as he waits for the meat to brown. An empty coffee mug and sheet of newspaper lay strung out on the dining room table, and across the room, the Detective Loveline toys he and Nanako were playing with before she left sit innocently in front of the TV. The calendar above the house phone is still stuck on October, but Souji isn’t about to flip the page. Nanako likes to do it, anyway. 

Souji Seta - 19:02
> Aww, poor Hanamura-san. I’m sure hers is fantastic. Are you off yet? Hurry up (✧ω✧)

Partner :D - 19:03
> jst wrappin up mr impatient sheesh. and ew was tht a kaomoji!!! im snappin ur phone in half when i get there

Souji Seta - 19:03
> (｡•́︿•̀｡)

The second cutlet finally browns enough, and Souji takes it out of the pan and places it over a bowl of cabbage. He repeats this action for a while, then a thought occurs to him.

Souji Seta - 19:27
> Would you like some dessert, too? I think Nanako has s-

The doorbell rings. Souji places his phone down on the counter and turns the door handle as a wide smile splits across his face. 

“Hey, partn-“

He isn’t able to finish the greeting. In fact, he thinks he might not ever be able to say those words again.

The realization pulls him under like a wave as darkness overtakes his vision, as his body jackknifes against a shoulder. With all the lies he’s told over the past seven months, with all the hateful, bitter suppression building up within his heart, he should have expected Namatame might come for him as well. 

Chapter Text

November 4, 2011

Alright, look. Here’s the deal. If Saito doesn’t quit bitching about today’s inventory being off, Yosuke’s pretty sure he’s going to blow a fuse.

The responsibility of inventory does not, and has not, and will not ever fall on him! How many times is he going to have to say it? Yosuke Hanamura is not the goddamn complaints department! Oh no, but that doesn’t stop Saito. Now he’s moved onto meticulously counting their stock of brooms one by one and comparing it to the inventory sheet. It’s all Yosuke can do to nod along to his nasally griping and not think about how, if Souji were here, he would have surely taken one of the brooms into two hands like he’s wielding his katana and beaten Yosuke over the head with it for letting the tonkatsu go cold. May as well sling one of the dog toy ropes in the next aisle over across Yosuke’s face like it’s his chain-whip, too. Just for kicks. 

Yosuke sighs and checks his phone while Saito’s back is turned. 19:20. This is getting ridiculous. 

“You see, Hanamura?” Saito asks, tapping the inventory sheet incessantly. “Twenty. Twenty! We’re seven off! How is that possible? I mean, who in their right mind isn’t coun-“

“Saito-san,” Yosuke interrupts. “Look, I get what you’re saying. That’s a huge disparity and it’s not acceptable. But please don’t lose your head over it, okay? My dad looks over inventory every night, so I’m a hundred percent sure this problem is going to be resolved by the time morning hits. Go ahead and go home. You don’t want to be here by the time the overnight crew arrives. Trust me. They’re a weird bunch.”

Eventually, after a lot more huffing and groaning from Saito that’s started to sound like maybe he needs to go get checked out, Yosuke’s finally free. He stuffs his apron in his locker, clocks out, gives his dad and Teddie a wave, and then he’s kicking off on his scooter and into the rain. Souji Seta-bound, at last. Despite the rain biting through his clothes and the wind only serving to worsen the chill, he still feels the tell-tale upward pull of his lips as he thinks of the night ahead of him. He probably shouldn’t be smiling so hard over his best friend—should probably find it really concerning actually—but right now, he can’t bring himself to care. Not when it feels like it’s been ages since they’ve last hung out. 

Souji’s been… different lately. No, scratch that. Souji’s been different for a while now. Probably ever since that summer day at the Junes food court — when he had clung tight to Yosuke and shook and cried as if he’d never been allowed to before. And, well… with the way Reiko talks to and about her son, Yosuke’s beginning to suspect maybe he really wasn’t. It was at that point that he began to see Souji in a different light. No longer the unshakeable leader; no longer the perfect golden boy, but rather, just a hurt kid. A kid who cries, and yells, and breaks his arm and fears falling asleep like the rest of them. And if that means Yosuke’s seeing Souji head-on and whole—not only witnessing the powerful shock of blue between his hand as he screams “Izanagi”, but reaching out and touching the scars in his heart as he whispers through the darkness for Yosuke to “stay with me”—then he thinks he prefers this light much more. 

The Dojima Residence finally comes into view, and speaking of lights, it looks like Souji’s turned every single one in the house on. Their golden shine is clear as day with the front door swung wide open. Maybe Souji had to step outside for a minute? Yosuke parks his bike, takes off his helmet, and heads toward the garden. 

“Partner?” No answer. Just the rain pattering on the roof of the house. He walks back to the front door. “Souji, where are you?”

What the hell is that smell? Yosuke wonders. It almost smells like something’s…

His eyes widen as he spots the line of smoke trailing out of the open door. 

Burning!

Yosuke makes a mad dash inside, to which he immediately spots a pot of oil on the stove. It sizzles and hisses and snaps, seamlessly blending right in with the sound of the rain. He lifts his shirt over his nose and mouth, squints his eyes through the smoke, and turns off the stove completely. He moves the pot to an off-burner and takes another look around the house as he fans the smoke with his hands.

“S-Souji?” Yosuke coughs. “Where the hell are you, man? And here I was thinking I let the food go cold.”

No answer, once again. Alright, maybe he’s upstairs? Yosuke wills the deep sense of unease churning in his gut to settle and heads to Souji’s room. Nobody. Nanako’s room. Nobody. Dojima’s room. Nobody. The bathroom. Nobody. Nobody. Nobody!

“Shit, Souji?!” Yosuke yells, the white-hot shock of terror urgently making itself known in his voice. “Souji?! A-Answer me, dammit!” He runs back into the kitchen. Souji’s phone is sitting on the counter, open and face-down. “Fuck, p-partner… This can’t be happening. Not to you!”

Yosuke picks up the phone and promptly drops it back onto the counter with how much he’s shaking. There’s a flash of lightning from outside the sliding glass doors that shadows the four corners of the house, followed by thunder rattling the walls seconds later, and somehow, Yosuke feels a little weaker. The smoke burns hot tendrils down his lungs and into his eyes. He tries again. 

There’s one unsent message from Souji to him.

Souji Seta - 19:27
> Would you like some dessert, too? I think Nanako has s-

For several seconds, Yosuke does nothing but stare at the indicator blinking rhythmically on the last letter, then he looks to the current time at the top of the screen. 19:44.

“W-What is that? Seventeen minutes…?” Yosuke shakily whispers, exiting out of the message screen and entering the contact list. He finds Dojima’s contact and punches call without another thought. “Seventeen minutes, fuck! Saito-san, if you hadn’t… If I w-would’ve just…”

“Souji?” comes Dojima’s voice from the other end. “Everything alright?”

Yosuke takes a deep breath and clenches the countertop. “Dojima-san, it’s Yosuke Hanamura. I need you to… to l-listen to me.” Another deep breath. “Souji’s been kidnapped. He’s not here. The door was wide open, he left his phone, and the stove was probably a second close to catching fire. Now-“

“What?!” Dojima bellows. There’s the sound of chairs screeching against linoleum in the background, and a soft “Dad?”. “What the hell do you mean ‘kidnapped’?! So help me God, Hanamura, if this some kind of prank-“

“Dojima-san-“

“I will throw you in a goddamn cell until graduation! Do you have any idea-“

“Dojima-san!” Yosuke screams. The line goes dead quiet. “I’m not fucking around with you! If you want to help your nephew then you need to shut up and listen to me right now! Find the address to a Taro Namatame’s house in Inaba and read it off to me. Don’t ask any questions. Just do it!” 

Dojima breathes heavily into the speaker—in, out, in, out—and for a heart-stopping moment Yosuke nearly expects him to hang up. Then, “Kujo-san, I need to borrow your phone.”

“D-Dad?” Nanako asks in the background. Yosuke’s heart breaks right in half knowing the truth will have to be revealed to her soon. “What’s going on?”

“Honey, just hang tight,” Dojima says, voice wavering. “Kujo-san, that phone. Now.”

Yosuke listens as Dojima barks orders at Adachi over the other phone, first retrieving Namatame’s address, then demanding that he “Get a goddamn perimeter around that house and meet me there immediately!”. 

“Hanamura,” Dojima says once more. “I got his address, but now it’s your turn to listen to me. First, you’re going to stay inside my house and lock the door, and you are not to go out for any reason. Then, you’re going to explain to me why I’m hounding a delivery driver.”

“No,” Yosuke emphatically responds. “I’m not staying here, and you can’t stop me. I’ll explain everything to you later, but you need to give me Namatame’s address! If Souji’s already in the TV, then me and the rest of our friends are the only ones that can save him! Read it to me!”

“In the TV…? What are you talking about? Look, just stay there! Don’t-“

Yosuke groans in frustration and hits the counter. “You were right, okay?! You’ve been right all along! Why do you think all of the kidnapping victims stick together?! It’s because me and Souji have been rescuing them since April! We’ve always—from the very start—been tangled up in Mayumi Yamano’s murder and the kidnapping cases. Please, just work with me here, Dojima-san. I know what I’m doing. Either you read the address to me and we quit wasting time, or I go find Naoto and have him track it down for me.”

It takes a bit more exhausting, redundant back-and-forth, but somehow Yosuke manages to squeeze Namatame’s address out of him. He writes it down on a sticky note and hangs up. As he grabs his keys off the counter, he tries his hardest not to stare at the single bowl of tonkatsu that sits innocently atop it. He fails. And the way his heart bitterly twists at the knowledge that Souji did this for me, and the guilt that swallows it whole because If only I was a little earlier, if only I had shut Saito-san down, if only I had realized from the moment a camera was shoved into his face, leaves Yosuke wiping at the corners of his eyes—completely unrelated from the smoke or rain—as he turns his back on the Dojima Residence and hurries out to his scooter. 

**

“What the HELL did you do to my nephew?!”

Compared to the soul-shattering echo of Dojima’s voice off the walls of Namatame’s house, Yosuke thinks the rolling thunder and droning wail of police sirens just outside don’t hold even a single candle. 

“Where is he at?! Spit it out!” Dojima demands, fingers twisted in the man’s collar. He drags Namatame down further, nose-to-nose and eye-to-eye. “Because if you don’t tell me now, I’ll make damn sure your eyes bleed as you watch me tear this house to shreds!”

In the darkness of the house, it’s difficult to fully make out Namatame’s expression, but the reds and blues of the emergency lights that staccato-flicker through the windows allow Yosuke to see it for the briefest of seconds: unbridled horror. And when shadows pass over his face once more, that horror presents itself through unsteady breathing and the creak of the floorboards under shifting weight. 

“I… I…” Namatame breathes. He jerks his head backward, indicating to the large flat-screen in his living room. “The TV. S-Souji-kun… he’s safe there.”

“Bullshit!” Yosuke yells. “The Shadows eat you alive in there! You know this. You knew from the very moment you threw Ms. Yamano in what that world does to a person! It kills them!”

Namatame’s breaths cease altogether — quicker than a snuffed out flame. “Mayumi…? You… you think I killed Mayumi? N-No, no! I would never! I loved her with all of my heart!”

Yosuke scoffs. “Some love. Did you tell her that right before you put her head between static?”

“I didn’t! Believe me, I want to find her killer as much as you do! Please listen. Souji-kun… he talked to me! They all did! Amagi, Tatsumi, Kujikawa, Shirogane — they all were begging for help, and I knew the perfect place to ensure their safety.” Namatame looks to the TV again. “R-Right there.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” Dojima gripes. He removes one hand from Namatame and reaches for his handcuffs. “You can talk your nonsense at the station instead.”

Namatame’s face twists, and by the time Yosuke figures out what that expression means, he’s too late. Namatame writhes under Dojima’s grip and breaks free, then books it to the TV, throwing whatever objects are in reach behind him so as to hinder Yosuke and Dojima’s following pursuit.

Dojima trips over a chair, effortlessly uprights himself, and speaks into his radio as he runs after the man. “Adachi, leave Nanako with Kawajiri and get your ass in here now!”

“Namatame, you bastard!” Yosuke shouts. He grabs onto Namatame’s leg and tugs hard as he goes tumbling headfirst into the TV. “You say this is salvation?! That was my best friend you took from me! You put your dirty fucking hands on him! You…” Namatame’s body disappears into static as his shoe slips off. Yosuke hurls it at the wall. “Dammit!”

Dojima sputters on air behind him. “How did… how…?” 

Adachi slams through the front door and begins frantically checking the house. “Where’d he go?!”

“G-Gone…” Yosuke chokes out. He falls to his knees. The ripples in the TV linger for a few more seconds, and then it’s over, and all that’s left is his defeated reflection. “He’s gone.”

**

“Take a look at this, Yosuke-senpai,” Naoto says, beckoning him over to the couch in the living room and pointing to a page in Namatame’s diary. Yosuke had called him and the others up shortly after Namatame escaped, and now they, Dojima, Adachi, and Nanako sit strung out in Namatame’s house, surrounded by papers, books, folders, and everything else they had uprooted from the man’s possessions. “All of the victims’ addresses. Mayumi Yamano, Saki Konishi, Yukiko Amagi, Kanji Tatsumi, and so on. And look right here.” Naoto’s latex-gloved finger lands on the last line of the page. “Souji Seta. Even the victims that weren’t murdered are listed.”

“Wow…” Adachi says from the dining room table. “Then that settles it.”

Saki—next to Yosuke on the couch—leans in closer to look at the diary. She lowers her voice. “Hey, why am I on this list? My incident was never reported since I didn’t go to the police.”

Yosuke reads over the list again. “You’re right. Maybe it’s because he saw you on the Midnight Channel?”

“Oh. Th-That’s… ah…” Saki covers her nose. “Achoo!”

“Ya still down for the count, Saki-senpai?” Kanji asks. He drapes his jacket around her shoulders. “It’s ‘cause you haven’t been wearin’ one of these lately. Weather’s gettin’ cold real fast.”

“Thanks…” Saki mumbles. She shivers and draws Kanji’s jacket tight around her. With how much she’s sniffing, Yosuke wonders how she’s even breathing right now. Thank God his immune system has always been on the stronger side.

“You know,” Adachi says, eyes on Saki. “I’m pretty sure I saw allergy medicine in the kitchen cabinets when we were searching the house earlier.” He tilts his head toward the kitchen. “Want me to grab you some?”

“Oh…” Saki thinks about it, then ultimately shakes her head. She sniffs hard, and man, that’s really some nasty congestion she’s got going on. “No thanks, Adachi-san. I’m not too comfortable taking medicine from, well… a killer’s house.”

Adachi smiles and leans back in his chair. “Yeah.” He twists a string on his yellow raincoat around his finger. “It’s good to be cautious.”

“Shirogane,” Dojima says. He puts on a pair of gloves, then gets up from the table and walks over. “Let me see that.” He glances over the page and flips through the diary. His lips tighten as he reaches a certain page. “‘November 4, 2011. I can tell that this boy holds tremendous sadness in his heart. Tremendous fear. Tremendous guilt. It’s as if they physically travel through the TV screen whenever I see his face cross the Midnight Channel. I am going to save him tonight. I can only hope that somehow, it will set the chains on his heart free’.”

“That’s not freedom…” Yukiko mutters darkly. She pulls on the rug in the living room she sits atop of. “That’s the opposite. The moment Namatame set that diary down and sought out Souji-kun… that’s the same moment he robbed Souji-kun of any further chances toward freedom.”

“Freedom, huh…” Yosuke whispers.

“My life isn’t my own, Yosuke,” Souji says across the regular table at Junes — that day he had revealed to Yosuke that he frequently contemplates suicide. His bangs stick to his forehead under the harsh setting sun. His eyes are red, and lost, and sad. 

And they’re still sad when he turns to Goro outside Mirai Children’s Home and asks, “What does Black Condor always say about life?” 

Goro is the one to answer, but Souji whispers it under his breath. Yosuke couldn’t ignore the motion of his lips under the street lamps’ spotlight even if he wanted to. “‘To carve your own path is the greatest liberation’.”

Yosuke gazes at the dark TV before him. “Is that what this is about…?”

Nanako stirs in his lap. She’s been so strong this whole time. “What’d you say, Yosuke-nii?”

Yosuke looks down at her and gently strokes her hair. “N-Nothing, Nanak-“

“Oh, would you look at that? I’ve finally found myself in Yomi.”

Yosuke freezes. He slowly raises his eyes back to the TV, first passing over the clock on the stand below it that reads 00:00, then on the screen itself. It’s no longer black. 

Souji is there. More accurately, his Shadow is there. 

“Izanagi isn’t very happy to be back here,” the Shadow says, gesturing to the outfit it wears. Izanagi’s getup, through and through — right down to the headband and trenchcoat. “But I am. This is where I belong, after all. This is exactly where you end up when you’re like me. A liar and a coward.” The Shadow laughs and runs an appreciative hand along the black curtain it stands next to. “I mean… it’s so easy, isn’t it? To live within ignorance. I see something I don’t like and…” It lifts the curtain, passes through the other side, and drops it. What remains on screen is nearly a mirror image of the room they all saw on the Amagi Inn’s TV the other night: black curtains instead of red; black and red chevron floors instead of black and white. The lines on the floor move rather than idle, ebbing outward like slow drops in water. The camera shifts, and the Shadow’s face appears once more — smirking and golden-eyed and wrong. “And I can hide from it. Hide from the yakusa-no-ikazuchi and the yomotsu-shikome. Seal off Yomotsu Hirasaka.”

“Y-Yosuke-nii…?” Nanako whispers. She points a shaky finger at the screen. “What’s… what’s wrong with Big Bro? This wasn’t his Halloween outfit. He… he was a vampire, remember?”

“Nanako-chan…” Yosuke swallows thickly. This isn’t something she should see. Not by any means. “Come on, let’s go outside.”

Yosuke picks her up and makes his way toward the front door. The Shadow’s voice echoes ominously through the halls all the while. “That’s how I betrayed you all last time, you know. I got on that train to Tokyo and drowned every single one of you in fog. Your trusted leader, turning his back on you in favor of elusiveness. How does that feel? You’re all watching me right now, aren’t you? Kanji, Teddie, Yukiko, Naoto… Yosuke. Partner.” 

Yosuke stops dead in his tracks, right in front of a picture on the wall of Namatame and Mayumi Yamano smiling before the shrine in the shopping district. It blurs in his vision as his breaths grow quicker, as sweat seeps from his hands and into Nanako’s sweater.

“You won’t turn your back on me, will you, partner? You’ll get lost in here with me?” Yosuke turns his head to see Souji’s Shadow give one last, crooked smile. “I’ll be waiting for you in Yomi…”

The screen goes black. Yosuke leans against the wall as his legs begin to shake more violently, more intensely. The narrow hallway eats at the corners of his vision, seemingly swallowing him and Nanako whole. Everyone turns to stare at him.

Chie wipes at her eyes and says, “Y-Yomi… That’s where Izanami went in the myth.”

“And where Izanagi left her behind…” Naoto adds. He closes his eyes and puts a hand to his head in thought. “What was the Shadow referring to when it mentioned the ‘last time’? My mind is stuck on that part.”

“‘I got on that train to Tokyo’,” Kanji quotes. “His hometown, yeah?”

They all start talking from there, over each other and all at once — loud and questioning and scared. Nanako buries her head in Yosuke’s chest in the middle of it all, and thus falls her first tear of the night. She sobs and clutches the front of his shirt, and Yosuke tries hard not to think about how Souji had done that same exact thing months ago at Junes, tries hard not to focus on the bitter realization that he and his sister are so alike: their tendency to hold their feelings in until their hearts are filled to the brim, just waiting on the needle that will send it spilling over.

Dojima strides over to him then. Yosuke stares at a spot above his head rather than at his watery eyes. “I… I don’t know…” Dojima sniffs and straightens up, then puts two hands on Yosuke’s shoulders. “I still don’t really get that spiel you gave about Personas and Shadows and what-not after Namatame escaped, but… but please, please… d-don’t leave him in there, Hanamura. If you’re the only ones that can rescue him, then so be it. I leave it to you. You need something to bring into that other world—anything at all—then you come to me.”

“P-Please…” comes Nanako’s broken voice from Yosuke’s arms. She lifts her head and looks at him—lips trembling; snot and tears smeared across her cheeks—and it’s the most heartbreaking sight he’s ever laid eyes on. “Please b-bring Big Bro home, Yosuke-nii…”

Yosuke looks around the room, at everyone’s expressions. Naoto and Kanji stand by the couch — both stoic as ever, but with a certain clench to their jaws. Chie, Yukiko, and Saki are spread out on the rug, quietly sniffing and giving each other gentle pats on the back. Rise and Teddie stand up against the shoji screen that leads outside; they sob unabashedly and hold onto each other with clenched fists. And even in all his aloofness, the constant rise and fall of Adachi’s throat as he looks on at Dojima and Nanako is a dead giveaway.

Yosuke finds himself drawn to the picture of Namatame and Ms. Yamano at the shrine once more. Ms. Yamano’s left hand holds an ema up to the camera, and the right is threaded in Namatame’s own. Yosuke wonders what it feels like to be betrayed by the same hand that loved you — smothered by it and forced by it into a world unknown. There are so many people that love Souji, too. So, so many. Most of them within the walls of this very room.

And like hell Yosuke’s going to let Namatame take that rightful love from him.

“Nanako-chan,” Yosuke says. He takes a deep breath. “You made a promise with Teddie once, right? Well, I’m going to make another one with you. Right here, right now.” He sticks out his pinky finger. “I promise… I promise that I’ll bring Big Bro home. No matter what it takes. Hold me to that promise, okay?”

Nanako wipes at her eyes, then nods and tangles her finger with Yosuke’s own. She doesn’t let go for a long time.

**

Chie is waiting for him by the front door when he and Teddie arrive home.

Yosuke hadn’t wanted this. He’d wanted everyone to go home in pairs and get home safely. He’d wanted to peel out of these rain-drenched clothes, yell at Ted to get his ass in the closet, then try (and likely fail) to get some sleep. Instead, Chie Satonaka’s standing at his doorstep, shivering to death in her skirt and flimsy raincoat. Yosuke pushes her through the door, then begrudgingly raids his sleeping mother’s closet for dry clothes. On the upside, he does get to yell at Ted to get his ass in the closet, only so that he and Chie can stand in the low, amber light of the kitchen and whisper in privacy. The rain continues to fall outside, punctuating their every sentence with relentless drops against the window over the sink.

Chie rubs her arms in his mother’s favorite sweater. “Thanks for the clothes. This rain makes it a lot colder, don’t you think?”

Yosuke stuffs his hands in his pockets and shrugs.

“I wonder how much snow we’ll get this winter…” Chie says. “What do you think? A lot or a little? Maybe even-“

“Chie.”

Chie grimaces. She scuffs her foot on the floor. “Yeah… sorry.”

Yosuke sighs and leans against the fridge. He’s tired — tightly-wound, head pounding, and to top it off, his jacket is still dripping wet. He wasn’t the one that showed up at someone’s doorstep, so he’s not going to be the one to initiate this conversation. Whatever Chie wants to say, she can say it straight out. 

“Yosuke…” Chie eventually mutters. “Look, I… I know what it feels like to have a best friend kidnapped. Souji-kun is important to all of us, but I know he’s by far the most important to you.” She puts her hands on her hips and looks up at him with serious eyes — the kind you don’t really associate with Chie Satonaka in the slightest. “When Yukiko was kidnapped… I was torn up inside, and I didn’t really have anyone to talk to about it. She was my only friend at the time, you know? I didn’t know you and Souji-kun too well. But you… you have all of us now, okay? And I know Ted’s always around, but… we’re here for you, too.”

“Thanks, Chie…” Yosuke says, voice extremely strained.

Chie doesn’t stop staring at him. With that sweater on, and in such poor lighting, Yosuke could almost believe that it’s his own mother standing there — that she’s looking upon him with those same, knowing eyes as he rambles about Souji this, Souji that for the millionth time this week. 

Chie comes a bit closer. “Something else is bothering you, isn’t it? You look… guilty.”

Yosuke lets out another long, exhausted sigh. “I do feel guilty. I mean, come on! What kind of a leader am I, not realizing that Souji was being targeted? It was so obvious! I guess it just… never really crossed my mind that a current Persona user could be a potential victim. I thought once you had a Persona, you were like… I dunno… set. Fine. Untouchable.”

“Hey man, it never crossed ours either,” Chie empathizes. “It’s like I said a while ago: there are tons of things we still don’t know about the TV world. You’re not less of a leader for not knowing something about a literal other world. Sheesh, you’ve gotta stop being so hard on yourself, Yosuke.” Her eyes soften. “You’re always like that.”

Yosuke’s fists clench in his pockets. “If I’m not hard on myself, then that means my friends get kidnapped.”

“You’re so damn stupid…” Chie walks even closer. She puts her arms around him—wet and probably nasty-smelling jacket and all—and tugs him close. “You’re our leader, and you’re our friend, and we think you’re great. And we… we love you a lot… and stuff.”

It’s extremely awkward, but in the same moment, it’s also… extremely sweet. Yosuke’s only ever seen Chie hug Yukiko in the entire time he’s known the two girls. And Yosuke… well, out of all his friends, he’s only ever hugged Souji. (And Teddie once. Once! But he’ll never admit that out loud). He puts his hands on Chie’s shoulders and his head atop of hers. He swallows through the tightness in his throat, yet doesn’t cry — too exhausted and emotionally-worn out. 

And he thinks maybe Nanako was onto something earlier, because he doesn’t let go for a long time, too.

November 5, 2011

Yosuke’s first impression when they all come crashing into Souji’s dungeon the next day is that he has been here before. At some point—maybe not recently—but at some point. It’s a lot different from seeing it on TV, and unlike the others, he’s never once dreamed of this place. But despite that, there still remains the deeply-rooted feeling within his heart that he has absolutely been here before. He gives himself and his team a moment to adjust to the new environment before venturing in further. The curtains and floors look the same as they were on TV, and like many of the others have mentioned, there is the sound of distant, thundering waves. But that isn’t what’s bothering Yosuke the most.

No, what’s bothering him the most is that this place is so distinctly Souji. 

Yosuke’s hugged him many times, grabbed his hand to help him to his feet after being knocked down by Shadows—shit, he’s even spooned the guy in his futon; kissed him once, too—so by now, he’s pretty familiar with how much body heat Souji radiates: practically zero. His dungeon reflects that; it’s fucking Antarctic in here! Yosuke shivers and draws his jacket tighter. He takes in a long breath. Being in such close proximity to Souji at times means that Yosuke’s also become accustomed to how he smells. The faint salt of the ocean—wherever it’s at in this place—is one thing, but Dojima’s acrid cigarette smoke that lingers on Souji’s clothes and the warm spice of that oil Souji likes to wear (Patchouli, Yosuke remembers his friend saying once) is another. Souji doesn’t give off that strong of a scent in real life, not really, but in here? In here, you may as well be drowning in it. 

And that’s the weird thing, because Yosuke doesn’t remember the rest of the dungeons being so… thorough with the characteristics of their owners. Kanji’s dungeon was scorching hot because it was a literal bathhouse, Naoto’s was pungent and nauseating because of the hazardous waste spilled everywhere, and Rise’s just reeked of sweat and money. But those were the properties of the dungeon’s atmosphere, not the person itself. Souji’s is noticeably different, and Yosuke thinks the rest of them realize this, too. 

A dungeon is a reflection of the heart, right? Yosuke thinks. So just how long has this suppression been building, for it to have comprised itself of Souji inside and out?

Yosuke doesn’t want to think about it too much. After all, he’s going to hear it from Souji’s Shadow pretty soon, and that will be painful enough. He steels himself and turns to the team. “Everyone ready?” They nod. Yosuke takes a step forward. “Then let’s go.”

There are no Shadows in the first few rooms they pass through — something that Rise quickly takes notes of.

“Hey, Yosuke-senpai,” Rise echoes through his mind. “I have a few things to tell you right off the bat. Something’s different about this dungeon. There are no upper floors. Like, at all. All I’m seeing is that this place stretches on for ages.”

“No upper floors?” Yosuke asks incredulously. “Then how do we know if we’re going the correct way?”

“I can sense Souji-senpai and his Shadow way past here. The layout of this place is… well, pretty much like a maze. It’s going to take a lot more maneuvering than usual, but I’ll do the best I can to guide you. Um, and the other thing—this is really weird—there aren’t that many Shadows here.”

Yosuke frowns. “Huh?”

“Yeah. In fact, the readings are so low that I’m guessing there’s around ten in total!”

“Ten?!” Kanji shouts. “The hell’s up with that?”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Chie says. 

“Um, I wouldn’t get too comfortable, Chie-senpai,” Rise advises. “There aren’t a lot, but something’s up with these Shadows. I can’t really put my finger on what, but be on guard.”

Rise guides them through the next few Shadow-less rooms, and as she said, this dungeon is very reminiscent of a maze. Dully, Yosuke suspects that this is what Souji’s Shadow meant on the Midnight Channel — getting “lost” in here. Right, left. Left, right. Forward, left. Forward, right. Over and over and over again. As they delve deeper and deeper into the dungeon, music finally begins to echo from overhead; muffled, as if playing through thick walls. And just like earlier, this part of the dungeon is different too. Each time they pass through a curtain and into a new room, a different song plays. It’s not new music to Yosuke’s ears, not by any means; all of these songs are ones he has heard. He catches snatches of melodies that played in Yukiko’s castle, in Kanji’s bathhouse, in Rise’s striptease, and there’s even songs he knows because he’s shared them with Souji, like “Kitakami Yakyoku”, or “Take Five”.

“This is so overwhelming…” Saki grumbles, rubbing her temples.

“Sensei’s really stressed out…” Teddie comments sadly.

“Mm,” Yukiko hums. “I don’t think a dungeon would present itself like this unless the owner constantly had a million thoughts running through their head.”

Didn’t he ask me to be leader in order to clear his head? Yosuke wonders. Just what is it that he’s so stressed out about?

Eventually, Rise states that there are two Shadows nearby. Yosuke opens the next curtain, only to be greeted by-

“Kanji? Ted?!” Yosuke yells at the figures in the room before him. They stand next to a small pyramid of CRT TVs. “How’d you guys get in here?”

“Ummm…” Kanji’s voice comes from behind him. “Hate to break it to ya, Yosuke-senpai, but that thing ain’t me.”

“Un-bear-lievable!” Teddie points at his counterpart. “A fake! A fraud! A phony! Yosuke, let’s gut him like a fish!”

Yosuke grabs Teddie by his shirt collar before he can go running. “Would you chill out?!” He looks between Teddie, Kanji, and their counterparts multiple times. Besides the lack of weapons, the only way you could tell them apart is by the glasses: the real one wears them, and the other doesn’t. “These… things don’t have golden eyes. Rise-san, what’s up with this?”

“They’re still Shadows! I don’t sense much hostility from them, but please be careful.”

Yosuke grips his kunai more forcefully; the rest of them follow suit with their own weapons. They approach the Shadows like you would a wild animal — cautiously and ready to turn tail at any given moment. Amazingly, the Shadows remain still, but the unpleasant grins splitting across their faces don’t exactly calm Yosuke’s nerves.

“‘Sup,” other-Kanji greets. It leans one arm against the TVs. “Don’t worry, we ain’t here to hurt ya. Souji-senpai would never in a million years let us.”

Kanji scoffs. He summons Take-Mikazuchi and unleashes a colossal Primal Force attack upon the Shadow. The Shadow doesn’t even flinch; it merely absorbs the attack with that same shit-eating grin.

“Hey now,” other-Kanji says, raising two placating hands. “Don’t you get it? If Souji-senpai would never let me hurt you, then that means you can’t hurt me. We crystal yet?”

Yosuke punches Kanji in the shoulder. “Idiot! I didn’t give you an order, so don’t lose your cool, man!” He turns back to the Shadows. They said that Souji won’t allow them to fight, and even Rise said they didn’t seem hostile, right? It might be better to take a less confrontational approach here. “Have you seen Souji, then?”

Other-Teddie nods. “Oh, Sensei’s in here somewhere, but why should I care? It’s not like he cares when I’m the one alone, stuck on the other side of the TV.” It crosses its arms and glares at the team. “He cares about you guys far more than he cares about moi! But Sensei’s been alone too, you know. He’ll never know what it’s really like—to be me; to be forever a-bear-doned and empty—but he’s still gotten a pretty nasty taste of it.” The Shadow laughs viciously and inserts a videotape into the TV. As the tape whirs to life, a white spotlight momentarily blinds them all and illuminates the patch of floor where the pyramid of TVs stand. “Take a look.”

Yosuke immediately recognizes the scene before him. Outside Naoto’s house — that time when Teddie and Kanji had tried to tell Souji about their dream of his dungeon. Teddie looks up at the camera with shining eyes as he hugs something. Actually… is that Souji he’s hugging? With the way Yosuke can see nothing of Souji’s face—only his arms and the fabric of his shirt as Teddie latches onto him—it’s almost as if the whole video is being shot through Souji’s eyes. 

“You’re not alone!” Teddie proclaims onscreen. “No matter what you think! I used to think a life of loneliness was the only life for me, but you’ve all shown me different. You can’t… you can’t really think that when you leave Inaba we’ll just forget about you, can you? You’ve touched hearts far and wide here, Sensei.”

Kanji nods. “Yeah. I don’t think anyone could forget you even if they tried, man.”

Static hisses across the screen, and now a completely different video plays. Yosuke recognizes this scene, too. Maybe even moreso than the last. Tatsumi Port Island; Iwatodai, specifically — when he and Souji had talked on the balcony at the dorms. Barring the many neon lights of the lively city below, only Yosuke’s face is visible. 

“That’s my number one fear…” he hears Souji whisper from behind the camera. “Being alone. Being left behind. Those who I love not caring.”

Yosuke’s face softens; his lips move as if he’s about to say something. (“I care”, he knows full well, from all the late nights in bed he’s found himself reflecting on this vulnerable conversation — on the way Souji’s arms fit around him, or how soft his skin was under Yosuke’s lips. The sentiment never stops being true). Except he never gets to say it.

Static hisses once more, and it’s not himself he’s looking at anymore. It’s a note held between small, shaking hands. A few drops of water spill onto the note, and if the pitiful sniffing is anything to go by, Yosuke assumes they are tears.

IN SAPPORO FOR A WEEK. THERE IS MONEY ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER. SORRY WE COULDN’T MAKE IT TO PARENTS’ DAY, BUT WE’RE SURE YOU UNDERSTAND.

“I d-dont understand!” a young, boyish voice screams. The note crumples between his hands. He bangs a fist against the fridge. “I did everything you asked! I didn’t play around; I got good grades! So why… why isn’t…” The sobs grow louder — raw and undeniably pained. The fist slides down the fridge and onto the floor, where two knees dig into the hardwood. “Why isn’t that enough for you to stay?”

The recording ends.

“Not good enough, eh?” other-Kanji sneers. “Sounds about right.”

Kanji reaches to presumably snatch it by the collar, but the two Shadows—along with the TVs—fade away into nothing. All that’s left, over music and rolling waves, is the sound of eight labored breaths and the shrill clang of Yosuke’s kunai rattling against each other. He tries to control his trembling hands. He fails.

“I-“ Teddie starts.

“E-Everyone,” Yosuke interrupts. He turns in the direction of the next curtain, imagines Jiraiya hurricane-force swirling that memory of Souji’s around and sending it off to God knows where. “Let’s all take a deep breath and move on. Souji’s waiting for us.”

**

“You know, Yosuke-kun, I’m so happy that you’re our leader now,” other-Yukiko says. Once more, two Shadows and a pyramid of TVs greet them. Other-Yukiko sits atop one with daintily-crossed legs. On the opposite side, between one TV, sits other-Chie — chin resting on two hands. “We can’t rely on someone who only knows how to roll over and die, right? We need someone powerful. Someone capable. Like you.”

Other-Chie chuckles darkly. “Exactly, Yukiko! Souji-kun just doesn’t have any qualities befitting a leader. Yosuke, remember all the times he’s let his guard down during battle? With your Shadow? With my Shadow? In Rise-chan’s dungeon?”

“Shut up!” Chie seethes. Her eyes twitch in fury, but she doesn’t move an inch. “None of that was his fault!”

Yukiko gapes at her counterpart. “I don’t get this thing! I’ve never once thought that Souji-kun wasn’t capable of leading us!”

Yosuke doesn’t get it either. Based on the teams’ indifferent reactions when he had announced that Souji wished for him to take over as leader, he’s pretty certain on who they prefer as the one in charge. Maybe they had warmed up to Yosuke over time, but he doesn’t doubt that they’ll let out a collective sigh of relief the moment Souji decides he’s finished forfeiting his rightful position. 

Other-Yukiko inserts a tape into the TV nestled between it and other-Chie. A spotlight floods the room like before. “Maybe this will change your mind.”

It’s been so long now that Yosuke barely remembers this day, but even so, it must have happened, because there he is kneeling at Souji’s bedside. There’s a small smile hanging from his lips as he reaches toward the camera; Souji’s comforter rustles in the bottom left-hand corner of the screen.

“Hey, so uh…” Yosuke says quietly. “What happened back there?”

There’s a slight pause, then Souji says, “I think… that Chie’s Shadow reminded me of something.”

Static crackles across the screen, and now it’s Chie he finds himself looking at. She’s walking along a street at dusk, and the camera follows her movements as she slowly comes to a stop in front of her house. “But really, I do. I care about Yukiko more than anyone. And… that’s why I hate how trapped she feels. Like she has no power over her own life…”

The camera stills over Chie’s disheartened expression for a moment, then shifts to a hand that grips the fabric of a Yasogami uniform sleeve.

“She does have power…” Souji mumbles, and maybe it’s the force behind his words, but for some reason, Yosuke gets the impression that his friend isn’t talking entirely about Yukiko.

Yosuke blinks, and when he opens his eyes, the hand on screen is a lot smaller. It holds another hand — one a bit larger, but still soft and effeminate. A woman with shoulder-length black hair and bangs comes into view, and although Yosuke has never seen this woman in his entire life, he knows without a doubt who she is, because her red lips curve in the same way Souji’s do, and her eyes—though light and playful in the moment—are every bit as sharp and intense as Souji’s own.

“Ah, look!” Reiko says. She leans back on a tan couch, pulling Souji with her on her lap, then holds out an origami fish to the screen with her free hand. “Souji, you have fishies inside your head! Here they go, back into the river!” She wiggles the fish repeatedly and makes ridiculous splish-splash noises, which incites joyful, childish laughter from behind the camera. “Up, up, upstream~!”

“Can you make another one?” Souji asks amidst his laughter. His voice is different from the recording presented in the first room — even younger, higher, not quite able to pronounce every word. “Please, Mama? Pretty please?”

“Another?” Reiko asks. She smiles and shifts Souji on her lap. “In a bit. I want to tell you a story first.”

The camera quickly tilts up and down — a nod. “Okay!”

“Hmm, maybe you don’t remember this, but when you were just a little, tiny baby, I took you to my hometown to meet my brother. He’s your uncle, you know. Remember Uncle Ryo? Anyway, me, you, Papa, Uncle Ryo, and Uncle Ryo’s wife—Aunt Chisato—visited my favorite place in the whoooole wide world while we were there!”

“Oh!” Souji exclaims. He points to the origami fish. “I think I remember! The big river! With the fishies swimming in it!”

Reiko laughs. “Yes, the Samegawa! Aunt Chisato and I took you by two hands, and we dipped your feet into the Samegawa over and over. Souji, that was the first time in your life that you ever laughed. It must have really tickled! Aghh, it was probably so cold! Let me warm you up!” The screen briefly goes dark as she hugs Souji close. The deadened sound of shared laughter can be heard, and then it’s bright once more. “We all like the water a lot, huh? Me, you, and Papa. Maybe it’s silly, but I like to think it’s because the kanji for ‘Se’ in our family name refers to rapids, or torrents. Flowing water. Like the rapids in the Samegawa that take the fish with it.”

“Se-ta…” Souji slowly sounds out.

“Seta, that’s right. And… do you know why we named you Souji? The kanji for ‘Sou’ means ‘all; total’, and the kanji for ‘Ji’ means ‘rule; control’.” Reiko extends a hand to the camera. A few strands of Souji’s hair jostle in frame as she strokes his face. “Your life is your own. You’re the only one who can control your path. You lay the stones yourself, and then you walk upon them without ever looking back. Don’t let anyone tempt you away from that path, okay, Souji?”

And just when Yosuke thinks Reiko is about to smile again, her face twists, and so follows the entire scene. No longer the warm, inviting fabric of the couch that boxes her head in, but rather the lonely, dark wood paneling of someone’s bedroom. Reiko’s lips are still red, but they arc toward the floor in a scowl, as do the newfound wrinkles on her forehead and around her eyes. But worst of all, the hand that once caressed Souji’s face now meets it with an explicit, deafening slap. Yosuke’s kunai fall as he covers his mouth with two hands, and still, the sound as they hit the floor is nowhere near as loud as Souji’s pained cry that follows.  

“Look me in the eyes, Souji Seta,” Reiko growls, dangerous and low. A flash of lightning from the window next to her highlights the papers she holds in her other hand. Judging by the height of the camera, Souji is a lot taller now, yet Reiko’s looming stature above him thoroughly overshadows her son’s. The camera quickly pans away from the papers and up to her eyes. “Why don’t you explain to me how exactly you’re going to be accepted into Kanegawa when this is the second time you have failed the entrance exam? Go on. Tell me.”

“I… I don’t know…” Souji mutters through a heaving breath, and this is the voice Yosuke knows through and through — deep and soft and honeyed. He can’t be much younger than he is currently. 

“You have something you want to say. I can tell. So say it.”

The camera slowly backs away from Reiko until it hits something behind it. It never leaves her eyes. 

“Well, Kanegawa…” Souji says. “I’m… I’m not very interested in that high school. I told you I was more interested in Fuefuki.”

Reiko scoffs and crosses her arms. “Fuefuki. And what exactly is there for you at Fuefuki?”

“…Nothing.”

“You’re interested in nothing. Incredible.”

“Exactly…” Souji sighs, tired and resigned. “There’s no point in going to Kanegawa if I’ll be transferred the moment I get used to it. If I go to Fuefuki, then I won’t have to leave anything of substance behind.”

“Very funny, Souji. It doesn’t matter if you go to Kanegawa for three years or one; it’s still going to look good on paper for college applications. That’s all that matters.”

“I don’t want to go to college!”

A bolt of lightning through the window once again; a roll of thunder directly after. Reiko steps closer, and somehow, the eerie rhythm of feet against wood sounds far more threatening than the almighty thunderstorm just beyond the room.

“Let me tell you something, okay?” Reiko suggests. She shoves an arm against the camera so hard that it shakes, and by the choked wheeze that Souji lets out, and the way his hands struggle for power against her, Yosuke can only assume that her arm is at his throat. “You are going to college, Souji Seta. You’re going so that you will have a career in the future. You cannot get by in this world without putting everything you have into your work. That is the one path of life set out for each of us.” She pushes her son again, which sends him falling to the floor with a dull thud and resulting whine of pain. Through the sudden wet, blurriness of the camera, the sight of the door opening is barely visible. And just before it shuts, Reiko says with an air of finality, “So either walk that path like the rest of us, or throw yourself off into the depths below it.”

The door closes. The recording ends.

Other-Yukiko takes the tape out with a nasty smirk. “See? What kind of son can’t fight back against his mother?”

“Oh please…” other-Chie groans. “That’s not a son, Yukiko. That’s a dog. A dog who lays at his master’s feet and submits.”

Naoto shoves his way past Yosuke and toward the Shadows. “Yosuke-senpai, I’ve noticed something.” He takes his gun from its holster, points it straight at other-Chie’s chest, and fires. Nothing happens. Naoto hands the weapon to the Shadow. “Take a shot at me.”

Kanji snaps to attention. “W-Wait a-!”

Other-Chie puts the barrel of the gun to Naoto’s head and fires. Naoto absorbs the attack.

“Now, let me ask you a question,” Naoto says as he takes his gun back, somehow not the least bit shaken by having it at his head. “If Souji-senpai were here, and you shot him with that gun, would he take damage?”

Other-Chie laughs. “‘Take damage’. That’s one way to put it. He’d be bleeding out on this floor even faster than you can reload, Naoto-kun.”

Naoto’s eyes fall. “As I expected… Now scatter.”

Other-Chie, other-Yukiko, and the TVs disappear. 

Kanji grabs Naoto by his sweater. “You… you little twerp! The hell was that about?!”

“These Shadows…” Naoto says, effortlessly removing Kanji’s hands from himself, “are insecurities. Distortions. Not the truth, but merely what Souji-senpai believes we think of him. And as we are all important to him, nothing in this dungeon is permitted to inflict harm on us, even when we appear as Shadows.”

“But…” Yosuke says, voice thick and shaking, “the owner has no problem if that harm is inflicted on himself, huh…? Fuck. This is s-sick. I… That tape… W-What the hell, man?”

Yosuke sinks to the floor as the realization hits him. This wasn’t the only time that it happened, but it’s the one he remembers most vividly: that time in Mitsuo’s dungeon—when it was just himself and Souji—Yosuke had yelled at him. He remembers the way his friend had near-imperceptibly flinched the moment his voice had risen, the way his body had moved backward of its own accord and against the wall as soon as Yosuke had gotten too close. Souji was scared. It’s only now that the word conditioned flashes through Yosuke’s mind. 

And he knew this; he suspected it! Hell, he’d even voiced his suspicion to Souji less than a week ago in the Amagi Inn’s onsen! Souji has an excellent poker face—the best Yosuke’s ever seen—but Yosuke’s known him for too long now. There’s a kind of intimacy too deep that exists between them; it’s one you don’t fall into when you’re normal teenagers — when you don’t risk everything fighting tooth-and-nail at each other’s sides after school, and instead throw pencils and junk food at each other when the study session gets too boring. No matter how much Souji had tried to hide it in the onsen when Yosuke had asked, Yosuke couldn’t have ignored the sudden, rigid line of his shoulders or the way his voice had tumbled into a whisper at the end of “everything” even if he wanted to.

“H-Hey…” Saki says, crouching down next to him. She lifts her glasses, quickly wipes at the corner of her eyes, and places a hand on his shoulder. “Yosuke, I know how much that must have hurt you to see. I mean, that’s your best friend… Do you want to head back for today? It’s okay if you need some time.”

Yosuke shakes his head with more force than necessary. “No. Not yet. Not when I know Souji’s Shadow is still here and capable of doing much worse than that.”

He grabs his kunai, stands, and rips the next curtain apart so hard that it falls off its rod.

**

“Fuck off. We’re not watching any more tapes, so do your thing and disappear.”

“Tell ‘em, Yosuke-senpai!”

Other-Rise giggles with a hand to its mouth. “Aww, but this one’s my favorite! Poooooor little mama’s boy — can’t man the hell up and come to terms with identity! You’re gonna want to see this one, Yosuke-senpai. You in particular. Trust me.” It thrusts the tape into his chest. “Why don’t you do the honors?”

“I said no!” Yosuke yells. He throws the tape at the Shadow and attempts to walk to the next curtain. Key word: Attempts. His forehead thumps against an invisible wall. “What the hell is this?! Fucking Spyro?!” 

“Hah, then would that make the videotapes the talismans?” other-Naoto snarkily asks, holding up said tape. “And you cannot access Winter Tundra and defeat Ripto without collecting all the talismans, right? So if you want to see Souji-senpai again, then I would suggest you get back over here and watch.”

Naoto rolls his eyes. “What next? Ratchet and Clank descend from the ceiling? Let’s just get this tape over with…”

Begrudgingly, Yosuke complies. The recording begins at the river between the mountains where the school camping trip was held. In the foreground, there is a scattering of large rocks, and in the background, Yosuke sees himself in the river. Yukiko sits atop his shoulders, while Saki sits atop Chie’s. They’re all laughing — unguarded and airy. 

The camera tilts further to the right. Kanji is there on the rocks — jacket slung around his wet t-shirt and smile easy, patient.

“Um, so if I wasn’t clear enough…” Souji says, and there’s a twinge in Yosuke’s heart because there it is again — he sounds so scared. Fear doesn’t belong on Souji Seta; he should always be happy, should always be just as untroubled and at peace as his friends goofing off in the river before him. “I’m… I’m…” A deep breath. “Gay. And this is the first time I’ve ever come out to someone.”

“Ah shit…” Kanji groans from beside Yosuke.

Yosuke’s heart drops. “W-Woah, what…?” He turns to Kanji and points at the screen. “Did… did he really say that to you?”

“A-Ah…” Kanji blushes and rubs his neck. “Well, that’s uh…”

Static hisses. The image on screen shifts to Rise. It looks like she’s standing… right in front of the Junes bathrooms?

“AHHH!!!” Rise suddenly screams in their minds. Yosuke winces and covers his ears. “H-Hey, Yosuke-senpai! Keep your ears covered for a bit, okay? M-Maybe your eyes, too?”

Yosuke sighs. “Rise-san, somehow I get the impression that’s exactly what Souji’s Shadow doesn’t want.”

“Crap. Just… just please don’t freak out, okay?”

“Freak out? Why would I-“

“Did you forget that I can pick up on your feelings inside the TV?” onscreen Rise asks. She’s looking up at the camera with hurt, betrayed eyes. “And really, being so in tune on the other side makes it a piece of cake to see through bullshit over here. Do you honestly think I haven’t realized how much you like Yosuke-senpai?”

Oh. Oh shit. Wait a minute. Souji likes him? Souji likes him. Souji likes him! 

“No I don’t,” Souji says, voice tight. His labored breaths come through the screen clear as day. The camera blurs, but not with tears this time. It’s an emotion Yosuke’s become pretty familiar with recently — panic. “I don’t. I don’t like him.”

Static.

“I don’t like you! I don’t! I don’t!”

There’s someone else on screen now: a boy with dark hair and glasses. He’s standing next to a vending machine in an empty school hallway. He’s not much taller than the camera — than Souji. If Yosuke had to guess, he’d say this kid can’t be older than ten or eleven.

“I don’t like you…” Souji repeats, much quieter. “I know it’s wrong now. You told me, and my father told me, and… and I know now, okay? So please…” The camera briefly pans around the hallway—searching—then back to the boy. Souji’s voice drops even lower. “Please stop calling me that word, Michiaki-kun. You’re going to get me in trouble if someone overhears.”

Michiaki, presumably, scowls and tightens his hold on his school bag. “What? A faggot? That’s what you are, Seta.”

“‘Seta’? Why aren’t you calling me ‘Souji-kun’? Aren’t we… aren’t we friends? We are, right? M-Michiaki-kun, come on. You’re… you’re still my friend, right?”

“You sound so desperate.” The camera shakes as Michiaki shoulders past him and walks off. “I’m not friends with a faggot.”

And before Yosuke even has time to process what in the goddamn hell is going on right now, there’s static again. Classroom 2-2 lies before his eyes. Yukiko sits a row ahead; a flash of green in the peripheral of the camera indicates Chie. Mr. Hosoi and his puppet stand at attention behind the podium facing the class.

“Yosuke!” the puppet squeaks. “Let’s see if you can answer this.”

You’re going to ask me for help, Souji… says? No. The words echo way too much to be spoken. Must be a thought. Not that I mind. I like that you rely on me.

“Do you know how Soseki Natsume translated the English phrase ‘I love you’ into Japanese?”

This question again… Souji thinks, and God, this is so weird! Being right in his head like this! It’s intimate; it’s invasive. Ask Yosuke what superpower he would pick if given the chance, and he would never in a million years answer “mind-reading”. These thoughts belong to Souji and Souji alone, and it’s tearing Yosuke up inside that he’s being forced to intrude on every admittance and insecurity that his partner has so obviously wanted to keep private. I hadn’t loved you the first time Hosoi asked it.

The camera shifts away from Hosoi and down to the desk beneath it. There’s a textbook in the corner of the desk, and an open notebook right in the middle, filled line after line with bullet point notes. Written at the very top of the page in the notebook—in small, precise handwriting—is the date: May 27, 2011.

“Partner, a little help?” comes Yosuke’s own whisper from behind the camera. Souji’s hold tightens on his pencil as it hovers over the notebook.

But I love you now, Souji thinks, turning just barely in his seat until Yosuke’s face comes into view. He’s smiling with a hand to his chin, and man, Yosuke had never thought of himself as someone so outwardly affectionate, but in every single one of these memories, there he is with fondness forcing his eyes to crinkle and butter practically melting on his lips. And I don’t know when I realized that, and I don’t know if I’ll ever tell you. You’re my first real friend. In fact, you’re the greatest one I’ve ever had. The last time I told a friend that I had feelings for him, he turned his back on me. Somehow, a large part of me believes you would do the same. The sun shines brighter through the classroom windows; Yosuke’s smile grows wider. So for now, I’ll say…

“The moon is beautiful.”

**

Yosuke usually leaves the facts to Souji. Souji likes facts; he likes things to be clear and cut, black and white, and he gets frustrated when they’re not. Yosuke, on the other hand, gets frustrated by the existence of a fact alone. More information. More details. More things to worry about. Yeah, nuh-uh. No thanks. On any other day, he’d leave them to Souji, but Souji’s not here, and today isn’t any other day. So for right now—as the team crashes through curtains and nearly drowns in the rivers of blood that have started to appear in each room—Yosuke finds himself alone with the facts.

1. If Yosuke ever meets Reiko and Reiji Seta, sound the fucking alarms, because World War III is starting unless Ryotaro Dojima is around to handcuff him.
2. It had to be, like, 2006 at least, and everyone kind of sucked then, (Hey, Yosuke did too. It’s 2011 now and he still sucks. How Souji hasn’t beaten him to a pulp for the stupid things he’s said and done is beyond him) and Michiaki probably heard that word slung around by his lame friends in the first place, but he’s still on razor-thin ice.
3. Yosuke is also on razor-thin ice, assuming the water beneath it is the grand ocean he likes to call “sexuality”.
4. Souji needs a hug. A whole lot of them. And a therapist too, but Yosuke can only provide one of those services.

“Number five: I look a lot better with glasses on…” Yosuke mumbles as he opens the next curtain and comes face-to-face with himself and Saki. Their other-selves are standing directly in the river of blood along with the usual pyramid of TVs. The overhead music has stopped playing entirely. 

Saki groans. “Surely this has to be the last of them, right?”

“Looks like,” Rise answers. “I don’t sense anything else in the dungeon except for Souji-senpai and his Shadow.”

“Hey,” other-Yosuke greets. It leans against the TVs with crossed arms. “About time you guys showed up. This is the most important tape you’re gonna see, you know.”

“How so?” Yukiko asks.

“Because…” other Saki says, tapping the tape between its fingers, “this is Izanagi’s betrayal. This is why he’s lost within Yomi… and why you’re stuck down here with him.”

Other-Saki inserts the tape before they even have time to respond; the spotlight glares in their eyes. The scene begins with a shot of a chalkboard and that weird teacher they met in Tatsumi Port Island. By appearance alone, that guy was pretty memorable. Yosuke couldn’t forget his name even if he wanted to.

“After his trip into Yomi,” Edogawa explains, “Izanagi wished to purify himself in river waters, feeling contaminated and defiled. This is the ritual we now recognize as misogi. I believe that wish alone can tell you the atmosphere of Yomi. Do you want to know what I think, Seta-kun?”

“Yes,” Souji says.

Edogawa turns to the chalkboard. Yomi is written upon it, as well as Yomotsu Hirasaka. He erases Yomi, then underlines Yomotsu Hirasaka. “I think Izanagi couldn’t handle the truth.”

A moment’s hesitation from Souji, and then, “No…?”

“No,” Edogawa repeats. He stares fixedly at the word before him. “Light is often associated with truth. Izanagi lit a fire to see his wife between the darkness of shadows, only to run away and seal off the entrance to Yomi in response.”

So did I… Souji thinks as the scene shifts. Mitsuo’s dungeon. Yosuke is there now, and for the first time in these memories, he doesn’t look so happy to be with Souji. 

“Do you have a lot of regrets?” Souji asks.

“Regrets…?” Yosuke looks down the narrow corridor. “Well, yeah. I think everyone does.”

And he holds far more of them now. Especially after this dungeon. Looking back, Yosuke still doesn’t understand why Souji disregarded his order to use ice on the Shadows, but one thing is for certain as a shot of Souji’s white-knuckled hand against the 8-bit wall crosses the screen, and Yosuke himself remains uncornered as the camera slowly pans back up to him: he wishes he had never put Souji in a position where he felt powerless. 

“If you… if you woke up one day, suddenly weeks, months, or years in the past with the knowledge of those regrets and the chance to fix them, what would you do?”

“Huh… I mean, sounds like you wouldn’t really get much of a choice. I think you’d just be forced to fix them in that situation. You think about this kinda stuff a lot?”

The camera vignettes around Yosuke’s face. It’s as if Souji’s blinking, but instead of there being pitch-black darkness behind his eyelids, there are clear, fast-moving images. Memories. There’s Ms. Yamano’s strung-up body, Saki and Nanako, and… wait… no. No! These… these can’t be memories! None of this happened!

“One of our third-year students, Saki Konishi…” the principal says on the stage of Yasogami’s gym, “has passed away.”

“Why…? Why did she… have to… die?” Yosuke chokes out at the riverbed, nearly hyperventilating. Souji’s holding him tight, wiping his tears. “It pisses me off! It makes me mad! I wanted to talk with her more! I wanted to get to know her better! But…” Yosuke’s voice breaks. He clutches Souji tighter. “She’s… not h-here anymore.”

“This is it… Where they found Sis…” Naoki whispers. He looks at the camera with cloudy eyes, then up at the telephone pole. “This whole time, I could never bring myself to pass through here. I was afraid of remembering Sis, and thinking about h-how… how her body ended up.”

Saki stares at the TV, unblinking, two hands over her mouth. Tears stream down her cheeks and into the river. “N-Naoki…!” 

“Ms. Yamano… Saki-senpai… Mr. Morooka…” Souji whines. It’s dim, but Yosuke can tell that he’s in his bedroom. And by the familiar way he’s muttering, the way he’s thrashing around on his futon, he knows Souji is having a nightmare. In it, several dead bodies—hung up on TV antennas, telephone poles, and water towers alike—present themselves in gory, haunting detail. Over and over and over and over. There’s no end to it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so, so-”

“S-Sorry…” Namatame breathes. Save for the man’s sobs and the incessant crackle of static coming from the TV that frames his horrified face, the hospital room is dead-silent. And God… God. This can’t be real! Souji’s fingers are twisted in Namatame’s collar, and that’s one hell of an oxymoron, because Souji Seta doesn’t lay a goddamn hand on anything. “I am. Truly. I k-know how it looks to you, but I promise—I promise, from the bottom of my heart—that I only wanted to save them.”

“Bullshit!” Souji roars. “You expect me to believe someone who murders in the name of salvation?! You killed Mayumi Yamano, you killed Saki Konishi, you killed my sister! Nanako Dojima!” He slams Namatame’s head against the TV’s border with all the force of a million volts of electricity. “So why shouldn’t I kill you?!”

“Souji-kun, stop!”

“Senpai, what’s… what’s gotten into you?!”

“It only takes one push, Souji-senpai. One push, and this is all over.”

For a moment, Yosuke is glad that he can’t see Souji’s expression through the first person point-of-view of the camera. Somehow, he knows the sight would be far worse than Taro Namatame forced into an ashen-faced surrender. But… would it be just as bad as what the camera pans to in the next instant? Yosuke—dark, soulless, crazed eyes—one hand atop Souji’s own, wholly ready to send Namatame falling to his death. 

“Do it, partner.”

Fuck. He can’t even recognize himself.

“He murdered Nanako-chan,” Yosuke seethes. He pushes Namatame through the screen just barely, just enough to watch the man flail. “You deserve this. You deserve this, Souji.”

“No, no, no, no!” Yosuke yells, nearly falling into the river as he pounds his fists on the tiny TV screen. “This i-isn’t… I mean, this can’t… I didn’t…”

And now it’s Yosuke holding Souji. They’re outside the hospital under dark skies and drifting snow, and Souji’s crying — full on sobbing. It’s not like that time at Junes; it’s so much worse. Yosuke still can’t see his face, but he’s never heard Souji like this — never heard him so broken that he’s nearly screaming into Yosuke’s neck. 

“W-We… we almost killed someone back there…” Souji rasps. He’s leaning so far into Yosuke that the only things visible are the rise and fall of Yosuke’s throat, his hitched breaths fading away into the open air, and the snow slowly gathering on his jacket. “The very thing we’re fighting against! Was I right to put a stop to things in Namatame’s room? That… that wouldn’t have been justice… right?”

Yosuke swallows. “We were doing it for Nanako-chan…”

“Yosuke…” The camera pans up, finally facing Yosuke head-on. He’s biting his lip and averting his eyes — the tell-tale sign that he’s desperately trying not to cry. “We’re not murderers. Not for Mr. Morooka, not for Ms. Yamano… not for Saki-senpai…” Yosuke makes a half-choked sound. A tear falls; he sniffs and quickly wipes it away. “And not for Nanako either.”

“I’d do it for you…” Yosuke shakily whispers, so quietly that the recording barely picks it up. “Again, and again, and agai-“

“I wouldn’t want you to,” Souji interrupts. “That’s not what justice means to me. And I’m sure… I’m sure that N-Nanako feels the same way…” His grip on Yosuke’s shoulders tightens. The camera blurs around the edges. “Nanako…”

Yosuke’s lips twitch down. A few more tears fall. And all at once, the snow melts away, the hospital looming in the background is erased, and they’re standing in Mitsuo’s dungeon once more. Yosuke’s haunted expression in the snow seems to superimpose itself upon the far less intense one he wears now — head tilted in interest, TV world glasses slightly askew as he listens to Souji speak. 

“Yeah,” Souji says, and Yosuke finally understands why his friend had sounded so tortured during this seemingly out-of-the-blue conversation. “I wonder if you should still follow the straight and narrow path, even then.”

Yosuke laughs. “Why would you? You’d be a time-traveler, dude. Literally nothing about that is straight and narrow.”

The recording ends. 

Other-Yosuke raps on the TV screen with its knuckles. “A time-traveler, huh? Now that’s fun. Another chance to play hero!” The Shadow circles around the team as it speaks. “‘Save Saki-senpai, save King Moron. Oops, not Yamano. Uh oh, Senpai nearly got brained. Don’t forget that I let all my friends get kidnapped again, but as long as Nanako-chan’s okay, then I really don’t give a shit!’ Too bad he still couldn’t figure out who the killer was this time around, even with a huge advantage.” It stops in front of Yosuke and directs a steely glare at him. “Maybe if he wasn’t so busy thinking about how much he wants you to fuck him all the time, he would’ve made better progress.”

This is an insecurity, Yosuke reminds himself, despite the way the Shadow’s words make his skin flush head-to-toe. Everything it says is an exaggeration.

“Those… those memories were fake…” Saki insists, though the way her face is painted in horror betrays her. “You expect me to believe that time-travel is real?”

“So a world inside a TV is nothing, but you’ll draw the line at time-travel?” other-Saki asks. It kicks blood from the river onto Saki, staining her clothes. “Don’t kid yourself. You were once long dead.”

Saki scowls. She takes her axe off her shoulder and swings it at her counterpart, only to meet the rushing waters of the river as the Shadow disappears.

“Wait!” Yosuke yells before his Shadow disappears, too. “You’re the last one, right? Take us to Souji.”

“You don’t need my help,” other-Yosuke says. It taps a finger against one of its ears. “All you have to do is listen, and you’ll be led right to him. Go on, master. Your dog awaits you.”

“Saying that shit with my damn face…” Yosuke growls as the Shadow disappears. Since the overhead music has stopped playing—leaving only the sound of waves that have grown louder and the trickle of the river before him—he gets the implication pretty quickly. He beckons the team with a hand as he runs downstream. “We follow the river. Let’s go.”

It takes a few more curtains to fall, but eventually the river runs out. And okay, maybe Yosuke needs to take a trip to Kamakura or Shichiri and refresh his memory on what the Pacific Ocean looks like, because goddamn. Have oceans always been this big? If you looked up the word “massive” in the dictionary, Yosuke is one hundred percent sure you would see an image of the ocean currently before his eyes. It stretches on forever, and ever, and ever. Tall, white-capped waves rage and collide from all sides — everywhere, all at once. The water is such a deep shade of blue that it’s nearly black, and the blood pouring in from the river doesn’t change a thing — it merely tinges the water darker. And all the while, the nastiest storm Yosuke’s ever witnessed in his life has the team firmly holding their glasses into place, lest the relentless gale send rain into their eyes and blind them. Their every breaths are punctuated by thunder as strike after strike of lightning touches down upon the waves.

Seta, is the only thought Yosuke has in that moment. Seta. Rapids. Torrents. Water.

“Shit!” Kanji yells over the maelstrom of noise. “This is a fuckin’ death sentence!”

“Rise-san!” Yosuke shouts. He steadies himself before the wind nearly causes him to nosedive into the sea. And here he was thinking he was pretty resilient against wind. “Where is he?!”

“Ugh, somewhere here, but I can’t pinpoint an exact location! Yosuke-senpai, let’s regroup, okay? We need to figure out how to cross this ocean.”

“But Souji-“

“Will be fine. It’s just like the other dungeons. As long as we rescue him before the fog sets in, he’s fine.” Rise lets out a long breath. “I know how much you want to get him out of here. We all want that. But we need a plan first.”

Yosuke takes one last, long look at the sea, and finds himself alone with yet another fact:

6.) Souji’s not coming home today.

**

There’s a lot they all could potentially sink their teeth into. The child abuse, for starters. It is something they bring up, but ultimately decide to handle (And they will handle it. Yosuke will make it his goddamn life’s mission) at a later date. The topic of Souji’s sexuality is one nobody dares to touch with a ten-foot pole. Seeing as Yosuke’s at the very center of it, he’s sure the rest of them are leaving that pole in his hands entirely (Again, on the backburner. He can have a sexuality crisis once Souji is Shadow-less and safe at home, thanks very much). Which leaves only two things: time-travel or plan. As Yosuke looks around the bench at Junes, only to find everyone’s eyes lingering on an agitated Saki, he knows which topic they’re more hung up on.

“What… what do you think, Yosuke?” Saki asks. She fidgets with her hands on the bench. “Were those memories really fake?”

As much as he doesn’t want to believe it, as soon as Yosuke saw that memory outside of the hospital, he knew the answer to that question was an overwhelming no. He’s completely sure of it, and he hates that — hates that the foundation beneath his feet is built entirely on the knowledge that, deep down, he would kill for Souji. As long as it made Souji happy in the end, he’d do it. “Again, and again, and again”, exactly as his once-self had vowed. Maybe Yosuke didn’t recognize himself in the hospital room, but as soon as it was revealed that Namatame’s murder wasn’t going to be some arbitrary decision, rather that they were doing it for vengeance, well… the shadows across his eyes started to become a whole lot more familiar.

And why wouldn’t he believe in time-travel at this point, anyway? Saki’s other self was right. There’s no way you can hop inside a TV, duke it out with a physical manifestation of your psyche, (Maybe even hear a little voice in the back of your head that says you’ve leveled up, because why not?) and then say “But hey, time-travel is kinda whack”. All of the times Souji has slipped up—remembering things that haven’t happened, knowing things he shouldn’t know yet—makes so much sense now. 

And I’ll bet… Yosuke thinks, staring forlornly at the empty space next to him where Souji should be, that’s why I feel like I’ve known him for so long.

“Senpai,” he says. “I think the only one who can answer that question is Souji himself. We have to cross that sea. Let’s check the dungeon again tomorrow and see if something has changed.”

The rest of them chime their affirmations, then head off into the rain, no doubt ready to go home and sleep for twelve hours straight. Saki is the last to leave. She opens her umbrella, holds it over her head, and looks out toward the downpour, but doesn’t move an inch.

“You need to say something to her, Yosuke…!” Teddie whispers with a too-harsh nudge to the ribs. 

For once, Teddie is right. Yosuke takes a deep breath, then comes to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Saki. “My mom’s making sukiyaki tonight. You’re welcome to come try it. I bet it would clear your cold right up.”

“I’ve never seen you that upset…” Saki mutters. It takes Yosuke a moment to realize what the hell she’s talking about, but when he does, his stomach drops. “If those memories were real, then at that point you didn’t even know me that well. Why were you so torn up over my death?” Yosuke says nothing. How can he? “I guess you can’t really answer that question either.” She takes one of Yosuke’s hands and squeezes lightly. “I appreciate the offer, but… but I think… I just want to be alone right now.”

Yosuke squeezes back. “Sure.”

Saki drops Yosuke’s hand and turns to Teddie, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, Teddie.” And after a split-second of deliberation, she gives Yosuke one, too. “…Goodnight, Yosuke.”

As they watch her fade away into the distance, Teddie sighs and leans against Yosuke’s shoulder. “Yosuke, I’ve had enough of the rain.”

November 16, 2011

Everyday, they enter Souji’s dungeon again, and everyday, it remains the same — the same ruthless sea, the same hell-conceived thunderstorm, the same copper tang of blood that fills the air as the river gushes on and on and on. Lately, Yosuke’s been trying his hardest to not look at clocks and calendars, but just like a Shadow, avoiding something doesn’t make it go away. Time is ticking by, and they haven’t made any progress.

Yosuke needs to find a solution, and fast. He’s not too keen on the idea of looking through Souji’s belongings, but he’s shit out of ideas here. Souji is a man of few words, but Yosuke knows his brain is on overdrive 24/7, and he’s a stickler for all things organized — he’s bound to have some thought-filled notebook or planner stashed away in his room that will give Yosuke a hint. Besides, he needs to find the warning letter Souji received a while ago and have Dojima send it off to be tested, now that the man is aware of what they’ve all been doing.

It’s only about thirty minutes in does Yosuke find something substantial: multiple papers scrawled with details of nightmares, hallucinations, and… “After Yosuke’s Shadow knocked me out, I dreamt of the same place that I had visited in my nightmare during the camping trip and on the train. The same place Saki-senpai claims to have dreamt of. There, his Shadow made me promise to someday confess my feelings to him. I wonder if I’ll ever make good on that promise.”. No wonder Yosuke felt like he had been to Souji’s dungeon before. He has. Well, his Shadow has. And apparently it had a damn good time making out with Souji in it too. Shit, alright. Moving on.

The “hallucination” in Rise’s dungeon, as Souji likes to call it, (Yosuke notes his friend has crossed out the word vision multiple times) seems pretty reminiscent of the way the team’s other selves had spoken in his dungeon — laced with venomous words and deep, under-the-skin insecurity. An illusion, through and through. With the way everyone either dreamt of Souji’s dungeon before visiting—or in both Souji and Yosuke’s case, literally went there—Yosuke thinks “vision” was the more applicable term. And dammit, if he believes in time-travel now, then he’s going to have to believe in premonition as well. Surely things are as weird as they’re going to get now, right? 

Souji’s also written, rather cryptically:

06/24/2011
“This Dweller of the Threshold meets us in many shapes."

Kanji = Hobgoblin
Uncle & Nanako = Cerberus & Hades
Chie & Yukiko = the snake & Eve
Yosuke & Saki = Michael & the dragon
Teddie & Naoto = no Shadow yet (?)

Rise read this. Is that why she was the one to guide me through the vision hallucination?

Yeah, Yosuke’s not even going to attempt to decipher that.

A while later, he finds the warning letter, as well as a box of mementos. Most notably, a red handkerchief sits within it; Shinjiro Aragaki is embroidered on the fabric. Past the handkerchief are tons of pictures, including pictures of himself and Souji that he doesn’t remember taking. Yosuke’s own smile is at the center of most of them, and it hits him—right then and there as he strokes a thumb over the twentieth picture in a row of that same, ridiculous smile—that Souji really meant it when he said that he loved him, that this runs so much deeper than a simple crush. Yosuke puts the handkerchief over the pictures to avoid thinking about it any longer. There are also two sets of everything in the box — two sets of rainbow armbands, two shrine charms, two signed photos of Rise, and so on. The only difference in the entire box is one, lone bandage. Yosuke doesn’t know what it means. 

“You find anything that’ll help you?” comes Dojima’s voice from behind him.

Yosuke turns to face him and sighs. “Not really, but I did find this.” He hands Dojima the warning letter. “Souji got it in the mail sometime in October. We didn’t tell you about it for obvious reasons. Think you can have it analyzed?”

Dojima rubs his forehead in irritation. “I’ll have Adachi send it off.”

“Thanks.” Yosuke sits down on the couch and puts his head in his hands. Dojima follows. “Dojima-san, does Souji ever talk about… uh, water with you? Like, oceans and rivers and stuff?”

“Water? He mentioned wanting me, him, and Nanako to visit the Samegawa sometime, but that’s about it.”

“Yeah, the Samegawa’s all I can think of…” Yosuke lifts his head and stares at Souji’s TV, tries not to think about when he and Souji had sat before it and argued about Spyro, and how Souji had laughed, and how he had fell on top of him — his hand caught in Yosuke’s hair and breath warm on his face and God, he misses Souji so damn much. He doesn’t know how he did this—did life—before he met Souji, because it’s only been twelve days since Yosuke last saw him, and yet it feels like the world may as well be ending without him here. “Maybe the rain. Maybe Kamakura. I don’t get it. I can’t walk on water! I’m not Jesus! And I definitely can’t split it like fucking Moses!”

Dojima stares at him with narrowed eyes. “Hanamura, what in the goddamn hell are you talking about?”

Yosuke shakes his head. “You wouldn’t understand if I explained it to you. Man, there’s not even any time to explain! I don’t have time to be sitting here, but I can’t think of anything else!” He slams his head against the back of the couch and runs a hand down his face. He takes a few deep breaths. “How’s… how’s Nanako-chan? She holding up alright?”

“I can’t tell. She and Souji are…”

“A lot alike?”

“Yeah. Exactly.” Dojima huffs a bitter laugh. “You would know, wouldn’t you? Those two don’t say jackshit when they’re upset; they keep it inside. Blank-faced, impassive, neutral. And I’m a detective. I rely on body language. Stick them in an interrogation room and I’d get nothing other than a life-long staring contest.”

Yosuke smiles wryly. “We should take them to Vegas. Make some money.” The smile slowly falls as he thinks of Nanako, as he thinks of Souji as a child — on his knees in the kitchen, alone, tears drenching a note from what has to be the world’s absolute worst parents, in Yosuke’s firm opinion. “Souji doesn’t ask for help. He could be bleeding out and wouldn’t call an ambulance if he thought he was being an inconvenience. You have to come to him instead.” He pats Dojima on the shoulder. “I think Nanako-chan’s probably the same.”

Dojima’s eyes water a bit. Yosuke pretends he doesn’t notice. “Right.” Dojima nods, then stands from the couch. “You stickin’ around for dinner? I’m sure she’d like someone to compete with who’s actually good at that quiz show. That… Theodore kid or whoever can come, too.”

Yosuke smiles genuinely this time. “Sure thing.”

**

“Performed by 1986 Omega Tribe, this was their only single that landed number one on Tokyo Broadcasting System Holdings’ Top Ten.”

“Ooh, ooh! I know!” Teddie shouts at the TV. “Mamamura loves this song! ‘Ahhhh, Super Chance’~!!!”

Nanako gapes at Teddie with stars in her eyes. “Wow! Teddie, that’s the fifth one in a row you’ve answered correctly!”

“How did you get so much better than me, Ted?” Yosuke playfully gripes. “I listen to music way more than you, and I didn’t even know that one.”

“What do you think I do all day while you’re at school?!”

Dojima laughs at this from the couch. So does Nanako, right next to Yosuke at the small table in front of the TV. Earlier this evening, she had mentioned wanting to buy a new kotatsu to sit atop it. That’s a wish that will have to be fulfilled once Souji comes home.

Dojima stands up and heads for the sliding doors. “Well, I’m gonna call Adachi and remind him to send that letter off first thing tomorrow morning. He came by and picked it up while you were still in Souji’s room, Hanamura, but I’ve learned that if I don’t tell him twice, he forgets.”

Yosuke nods. “Okay. Thanks, Dojima-san.”

“That letter was weird,” Nanako says as the door closes. “It didn’t have any addresses on it. Only Big Bro’s full name, right in the middle.”

Souji’s full name… Yosuke thinks. Se, Se, Se. Torrents, rapids, water. Wait… Mr. Edogawa mentioned something about water in that one memory of Souji’s, didn’t he? When he was talking about Izanagi? But what was it? There were too many recordings; I can’t remember!

“Hey, Nanako-chan,” Yosuke says. “Have you guys learned about Izanami and Izanagi in school yet? The gods who created Japan?”

Nanako looks down at the table as she ponders this. “Umm, I don’t think so.”

Yosuke looks to Teddie. “Do you remember anything about that recording? When Mr. Edogawa talked about Izanagi? And… and water?”

Teddie frowns. “Yosuke, I can’t even remember what we had for breakfast this morning. I’m sorry.”

But you can remember an obscure fact about a 1986 Omega Tribe song. Sure. Yosuke holds back a groan as said song loops in his head for the millionth time in five minutes. Dammit, of course all that song talks about is water! 

“Yosuke-nii,” Nanako says. “I have an idea.”

“Shoot.”

“You… you need to talk to someone about water, right? Big Bro talks to a lot of people in town. Sometimes he tells me stories of what they said. There’s one person he talks to every time it’s raining. Only when it’s raining.”

Yosuke straightens up. “Who?”

The voice of the quiz show host filters through the room. “In order to prevent Izanami from escaping Yomi, Izanagi placed the boulder Chigaeshi-no-ōkami here.”

“My answer is Yomotsu Hirasaka.”

“You are correct.”

“I don’t know his name, but the attendant at Moel.”

November 17, 2011

“Hi, how are you? Need a part for that bike of yours?”

Yosuke stares at the attendant. It’s practically a monsoon outside, and this dude’s just standing out here like it’s nothing! The rain’s completely soaking his uniform—all the way from the hat right down to the shoes—and he hasn’t once thought to maybe go inside the station where it’s nice and warm? Fucking country folk, man.

“Um,” Yosuke says, shifting his umbrella to the other hand. “Do they still make you stand outside when it’s raining? I would’ve complained to corporate long ago.”

The attendant laughs — laughs! “Actually, I prefer this weather.” He sticks out a hand palm up to the sky and allows the raindrops to soak him further. “There are usually fewer people around when it’s raining. Gives me time to think. Say, even when it’s raining, I still see that friend of yours running around here like a madman. I like to talk with him. He’s a good listener. But he hasn’t stopped by lately…”

Yosuke clears his rapidly-closing throat. “Y-Yeah, well… um. Maybe you should take a look at the news sometime.” He clears his throat again, more forcefully. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure.”

“It’s, uh… I’m doing a project for school. You know about Izanami and Izanagi, right? The myth?”

It might be Yosuke’s imagination, and it’s sort of hard to see through the thick sheet of rain anyway, but he thinks the attendant’s eyes light up. “I do. I know a lot about it.”

“Oh, great.” The rain seems to pound harder against Yosuke’s umbrella. Maybe it’s his imagination again. “Do you know when… when water is mentioned in it? Any mention at all. Even slight.”

“Water…” The attendant smiles as he swipes a thumb through his drenched palm. He closes it into a fist, returns it to his side, and looks Yosuke straight in the eyes. “It’s mentioned quite a few times in their story. In fact, it’s present right at the very beginning.” He points at the sky. “Creation itself was birthed from the heavens — Takamagahara. According to the ‘Kojiki’, Izanami and Izanagi looked down from Takamagahara to a drifting patch of watery oil. They were instructed to churn this until it resembled land.” Yosuke leans forward, not wanting to miss a single second of this. “Next, after their marriage ceremony, they gave birth to a child which they deemed imperfect. Hiruko. They sent him off to sea in a reed-boat.”

Yosuke frowns. Well, Reiko and Reiji Seta sure took a leaf out of that ‘We Hate Our Son’ book. “That’s terrible.”

“Maybe so, but at least he didn’t meet the fate of Kagutsuchi. Lastly—and I believe this to be the most important mention of water in the myth—once Izanagi returned from seeing Izanami’s corpse in Yomi, he felt contaminated. Kegare had clung to him due to his contact with death. To stave off this feeling, he cleansed himself in a river.”

“That’s what Edogawa had talked about…”

The attendant tilts his head. “Hm?”

“N-Nothing. Go on.”

“This cleansing was rather important,” the attendant explains, “as it is often said to be the origin of harai, or rituals which remove kegare — pollution. To be more specific, this cleansing can be likened to misogi, which is a form of harai that involves immersing yourself in some type of water. Waterfalls, oceans, rivers, and so on.” He inclines his head to Yosuke’s right. “You know when you wash your hands and rinse your mouth before entering the shrine up there? That is symbolic of misogi.”

“Didn’t, like, Izanagi give birth to a bunch of children by cleansing himself? Something like that?”

The attendant nods. “Yes. Very many. Three of these children came to be rather significant. From Izanagi’s left eye, Amaterasu, who was instructed to rule over Takamagahara. From his right eye, Tsukuyomi, who was instructed to rule over the realms of night. And from his nose, Susanoo, who-“

“Hey, kid!” an employee calls from inside the station. “Can you come here? I need you to watch the register for a while.”

“Well, looks like my time is up.” The attendant gives Yosuke a wave and starts to head back. “Hopefully I could be of help with your project. And hey, if you see your friend around, tell him to stop by the station again.”

“Wait!” Yosuke yells, probably a little louder than necessary. The attendant stops in his tracks and slowly turns around. Rain drips from the ends of his hair and fingers. “What did Izanagi instruct Susanoo to rule over?”

The attendant smirks—so slight and pleased—and there’s something about it that Yosuke doesn’t like at all. “The seas.”

**

Yosuke’s first thought is to visit the Samegawa, and in hindsight, maybe he should have done this ages ago. That feeling is only further solidified when he meets Oscar at the top of the stairs that lead down to the riverbed. He’s sitting proud and tall despite the downpour of rain, looking at Yosuke with eyes that nearly glow under the now-night sky. Yosuke gets the impression that the cat has been waiting here for him. 

“Hey, boy,” Yosuke says, crouching down to pet him. He can almost hear Souji’s voice in the back of his head — Just behind the ears; that’s his favorite spot. “I guess nobody’s been around to feed you much, huh? I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind…”

It’s not as if he speaks feline like Souji certainly seems to, but he thinks Oscar doesn’t seem to care too much about the lack of food, judging by the way he rubs against Yosuke’s hand and lets out a soft meow. Oscar relishes in the affection for a few moments, then abruptly turns on his heel and runs down the stairs. Once he reaches the bottom, he turns to look at Yosuke. Oh, he’s leading Yosuke somewhere. This cat gets weirder by the day. Nevertheless, Yosuke obliges. He carefully makes his way down the slick-wet stairs and follows a running, kicking-up-mud Oscar toward the river. Oscar finally stops and sits as he reaches the stone platform Souji likes to fish on. Yosuke takes one step onto the platform, then drops his umbrella and clutches his head as the loudest voice he’s ever heard in his life rings through his mind.

“Come.”

“AHHH! Oh shit!” Yosuke yells. He stares at the river with wide eyes. “W-What the hell was that?! Has it finally come to this? The fish are talking to me?!”

“Cease your rambling!” the voice demands, and dude—dude—why does this voice sound exactly like himself?! “You have yet to meet me, but I am you, borne in part by another. Though he has circled time and left that version of you behind, I was not erased. I still exist within you.”

What. The. Fuck.

“Y-You know…” Yosuke says to Oscar through a nervous laugh, still remaining stoic on the platform. “This has been fun and all, but you’re starting to really freak me out now, buddy.”

“Pay no attention to the feline!” the voice booms. “If you wish to gain entry to Ne-no-kuni, then do as I say. Come into the river.”

“Huh?”

“Now!”

It takes Yosuke a moment to come back to his senses, but for some reason, he obeys. Let’s just follow what this random, probably hallucination-induced voice says and jump into the freezing cold water. Sure. Why not? He unlaces his boots and takes off his socks, then places them on the platform. Not bothering with any other articles of clothing. Nope. Yosuke begrudgingly wades out into the water and immediately covers himself with his arms as he attempts to regain lost warmth. Oscar watches him the entire time, thoroughly unmoved. Bastard.

“Submerge yourself.”

“Are you i-insane?!” Yosuke’s teeth chatter from the cold. “You’re trying to kill me!”

“‘Confound the river!’, I say! Tempestuous Susanoo, forever resisting the water! Is it not your sole wish to see Izanagi once more? Do as I say. Submerge yourself. I will protect you.”

Ah, so there’s a deity inside his head. Well, this deity better make good on his promise of protection, because—wait a minute. Why does the cold not seem like such an issue anymore? And since when can he breathe underwater?!

“Do you see now? I am Susanoo; I am you. I was doubly created. Once, when Izanagi performed misogi upon return from Yomi, and once in a past life, when you opened your heart unto Souji’s, and his unto yours. In spite of this, he still fell short. Open your eyes and allow me to show you.”

Yosuke opens his eyes, and instead of the blurry shapes of fish passing him by or the rain hitting the surface of the water above him, he only sees himself and Souji — over and over and over. Short flashes of memories slice through the water: in the liquor store, Souji watches as Yosuke stares back at a mirror image of himself framed by crates of sake; at the floodplain, Yosuke shakes Souji’s hand firmly as they both promise to see the case through; before the Samegawa, both of them beat the absolute shit out of each other, wholly fixated on the desire for equality. 

One memory lingers longer than the others. Souji stands before the team and Dojima at the train platform, but Yosuke immediately knows that something is deeply wrong with this scene, because Saki, Teddie, and Nanako aren’t there alongside the rest of them, and through the thickest, most intense fog that Yosuke’s only ever seen swallowed by his nightmares, Souji looks back at him with eyes that may as well belong to a stranger.

“Yosuke…” Souji whispers through the fog. He looks so desperately like he wants to say something important—eyes flitting between Yosuke’s own, hand clutched tight around the strap of the duffel bag over his shoulder—but he doesn’t. The train arrives before he can finish his sentence. The steam from the engine isn’t even visible; it blends right in with the fog.

“You should go,” Yosuke suggests, and he doesn’t know how, but he can feel exactly what he was feeling in that moment, right here between the currents of the Samegawa. Resentment, bitterness, betrayal, and this is so wrong — so wrong, so wrong, so wrong! He should never feel this way toward Souji! “Don’t worry about us.”

“We will continue to visit Nanako-chan in the hospital,” Naoto says. “If anything were to happen, I will-“ He stops. “Dojima-san will update you.”

Yukiko nods. “Mhm. And… and I’m sure this fog can’t last for too much longer, right? Don’t worry, Souji-kun.”

Souji returns the nod. He looks around at all of them one last time — Dojima, Naoto, Kanji, Rise, Chie, Yukiko, and finally Yosuke. Yosuke knows he doesn’t imagine the way Souji’s attention lingers on himself. He turns around, faces the train, and walks ahead.

“Hey,” Yosuke says before he can enter. Souji stills, yet doesn’t turn around. “Be safe, par-“ He stops full-sentence, just as Naoto had. He smiles, and there’s a part of him that’s relieved Souji isn’t facing him to see it, because he would’ve been able to tell right away that it’s a forced action. “…Be safe.”

Souji says nothing. He remains at the threshold between the train and platform for a while—almost as if he’s hesitating—then slowly steps forward. The doors close; the wheels begin to turn. Souji watches them from his place at the window, and it doesn’t take long before he and the train can no longer be seen through the fog. 

“Do you believe in second chances?” Susanoo asks as the memory fades.

I do now, Yosuke thinks. After all of this, I have to.

“Do you still believe in him? Even after his betrayal?”

Of course I do! No matter what memory you show me, it won’t change how I feel about him!

Susanoo hums in approval. “Your solution lies in a different betrayal — a betrayal that must be undone. Izanagi instructed Susanoo to rule the seas, but tell me… did Susanoo obey or resist this instruction?”

I… I don’t remember…

“Allow me to provide you with a hint.”

A new memory floods Yosuke’s vision in the water. He’s at the Samegawa, legs criss-crossed in a patch of grass before the river. Strangely enough, he’s wearing the plain ring he often forgets that he owns. Souji sits next to him, but his knees are pulled up to his chest, his pants are neatly rolled to the ankle, and he’s not wearing shoes, instead opting to stick his feet in the river. His folded arms balance across his knees, and his head rests atop them. As he turns to look at Yosuke, the low-hanging sun does its job brilliantly, painting what’s visible of Souji’s cheekbones red and forcing his lips upward into a soft, unguarded smile. It’s so bright out—yellow and green and blue and beautiful—that the entire scene seems to move in slow motion.

“The water feels so nice…” Souji says, voice muffled as he leans further on his arms. The breeze rustles his shirt and hair. “You should join me.”

“Ah, well… I don’t really like fish,” Yosuke explains. He pointedly scoots further from the river. “I’m afraid they’re gonna bite my toes off, dude.”

Resist, Yosuke answers as it clicks into place. Is that what I have to do in Souji’s dungeon? Instead of splitting the sea, instead of walking on it, I just have to… jump into it?

“Well done,” Susanoo praises. “With this undoing, I have no doubt you will now easily find your way to Ne-no-kuni, and that Izanagi will return from Yomi safely. In doing so, perhaps you will soon call upon my name once more. But until then…”

Wait! Before you go… let me see the rest of that memory. Please.

Susanoo laughs, just barely. “As you wish.”

“They won’t bite you, Yosuke.” Souji nudges him. “If anything, they’re scared of you.”

The two talk about various things for a while—school, the case, Souji’s plan to catch the Guardian, Yosuke’s plan to master at least ten songs on guitar before the year ends—and even though they’re not really discussing anything of substance, it’s nice to just watch this. Souji doesn’t talk much in the first place, but this Souji talks even less than usual, apparently comfortable with letting Yosuke ramble on like a kid. And when he does talk, his voice is much quieter than Yosuke’s used to hearing, unlike the collected, decisive manner he speaks in now. Judging by the weather, it must be summer. Souji hasn’t known him for long in this memory.

“Hey, so…” Yosuke says, a little shyly, “you ever dated someone before?”

“No,” Souji answers. “Why?”

“Just wondering. You know… I never intended on telling Senpai how I felt when she was alive, but I used to always have these stupid daydreams where she confessed to me, even though I knew she didn’t see me that way. Pretty pathetic, right?”

Souji shakes his head. “It’s sweet.”

Yosuke fidgets with the ring on his pinky finger. “Heh, you’re too nice. Anyways, I’m curious… if a girl were to confess to you, how would you like it to be done?”

The already present blush on Souji’s face spreads even further. The water ripples at his feet as his body shakes with the force of a laugh.

“Oh, dude.” Yosuke laughs too. “You’ve totally thought about this before.”

“Of course I have. Who hasn’t?” Souji’s laughter slowly subsides into a warm, fond smile. He averts his eyes from Yosuke’s and stares down at the water beneath him. “A letter. Not a cutesy school locker letter, but a real one. Heartfelt and true.”

“Really? Why a letter?”

“Love is… being honest. Being vulnerable. I feel like there’s something inherently vulnerable in writing a letter. You can say a lot more in one than through spoken word alone. You can take your time writing it, make sure it’s perfect, say everything you want to. And there’s the handwriting of another person — where they might have hesitated or slipped up on a line, or maybe it becomes rushed as they get more passionate. It’s sentimental; you can keep it forever and revisit it always.” Souji turns his eyes back to Yosuke. Yosuke probably didn’t realize it then, but here and now, he knows — there’s so much longing in them. “If someone loved me, I’d want them to tell me through a letter.”

The memory fades. Yosuke chases after it—wild and desperate—but his thrashing hands only meet fistfuls of water rather than the fabric of Souji’s shirt like he was hoping. The water grows frigid once more. He suddenly finds himself unable to breathe, and after cursing that stupid diety for leaving without warning, he finally breaks the surface of the Samegawa.

“S-Souji…” Yosuke chokes out as he shakes the water from his hair and scrubs it out of his eyes. It’s a pointless effort, as that water is only replaced by the cold rain overhead and the hot sting of tears that mix in with it. 

He turns around. Oscar is still sitting on the platform, as well as his shoes and umbrella. Yosuke grabs them and gives Oscar a few gentle pats—vowing to come back here soon with all the food the cat could possibly want—then trudges out of the Samegawa and toward home.

That night, he asks Teddie to sleep next to him on the futon for the first time. Teddie doesn’t say a word about the tears that drench the pillows or the awful sobs that are surely making his ears bleed. Instead, he pulls the covers tighter around Yosuke and quietly assures him that “We’re bringing Sensei home tomorrow, Yosuke.”

November 18, 2011

“It’s… it’s j-just like falling into the TV world!” Yosuke assures the team through a nervous laugh. The wild ocean below him looms ominously. “Totally. It has to be…”

“Yosuke-senpai, you are the worst liar I have ever met,” Naoto says. “And I work in law.”

Chie throws up her hands in frustration. “Like, seriously?! Souji-kun’s mind couldn’t have picked a better way to design itself?!”

Yukiko frowns. “Chie, that’s not very funny…”

“I know…”

“Yosuke-senpai,” Rise says. “Are you really sure this is the only way?”

“I’m sure. Remember, the thing about this dungeon is that it’s not supposed to hurt us. We’ll… we’ll be fine.”

“That doesn’t make this fuckin’ ocean any less terrifying, dude…” Kanji grumbles. 

“Okay. All together on three.” Yosuke loops his arms with Chie’s and Teddie’s on either side of him and steels himself. The rest of them follow suit. “One, two, three…!”

In all honesty, it really is like falling into the TV world. The only difference is that you don’t get drenched doing so. You’d think they’d fall to the bottom of the ocean, but instead the ocean dissipates entirely after a while, and the team hit the moving chevron floor that they’ve become accustomed to. They land with all the force of giant boulders tumbling off a cliff, and yet—through some means of dungeon-mechanics, slash magic, slash luck, slash whatever the hell else—Yosuke experiences no pain at all. He’s sure the rest of them landed just as unscathed. After a bit of an effort to get back up—made more difficult by the water weighing him down—Yosuke finally finds himself staring at the very thing that has caused him so much heartbreak over the last few weeks.

Souji’s Shadow is identical to what they all saw on the Midnight Channel. Clad in Izanagi’s outfit, the Shadow lies atop a pyramid of TVs in the same way you would lay upside-down in a chair. The long, white headband trails to the floor as the Shadow’s head hangs down off the side, framed by the color static that hisses and drones across every inch of the TVs. 

And at the foot of the pyramid kneels Souji himself. A harsh spotlight directs itself at him and the Shadow, which means Yosuke can now see his face clearly. He one hundred percent expected this, but man, Souji looks absolutely wrecked. His eyes—so sad and lost—are bloodshot around the whites, and though they’ve become something of a trademark ghosting Souji’s appearance over the last few months, the dark circles lining his under-eyes are the blackest Yosuke’s seen yet. He’s pale, gaunt, sweating, and his lips quickly stretch into the clenched-teeth grimace of pure humiliation as he spots the rest of them.

“Souji!” Yosuke shouts, voice raw and ripped straight from his heart. His legs move of their own accord, but all too soon, they hit an invisible wall only inches from Souji and his Shadow. 

Yosuke directs his attention back to the Shadow. It smiles lazily, curving up toward golden eyes that pierce him like a knife through the chest. “Did you know…” it begins, in a manner that suggests it most certainly knows, “that some interpretations tell of Ne-no-kuni—the land where Susanoo was banished to after resisting Izanagi’s instruction to rule the seas, and sometimes synonymous with Yomi—as being located directly under the ocean? If only you had listened to me. This would’ve been much easier, Susanoo.”

“Real funny, Izanagi,” Yosuke growls. He bangs a fist against the wall. “Now let us through.”

The Shadow laughs. “Ah, that’s no fun! You want the whole spiel, right? Come on, I know you do. I got to deal with all of your dirty laundry, so it’s only fair you do the same for me. Sit and stay a while. Watch the show. You’ll love it.” It looks down to Souji. “What shall we start with, me? Maybe the unresolved abandonment issues? Better yet, the mommy issues? Or that time I broke my friend’s heart because I can’t accept that I don’t get it up for girls? That’s a good one. Or even how I became the next Marty Mcfly? I’m sure everybody’s dying to hear about that one. You pick.”

Souji’s expression turns impassive. He slowly rises from his knees and faces the Shadow head-on. “No. I’m not playing this game. You’re me, and I’m you. I accept that.”

The Shadow groans and rolls its eyes. It jumps down from the TVs to stand before Souji. “Christ, here we fucking go again.” 

Souji takes a step back. “W-What are you doing? I accepted you. Now go away!”

“No you didn’t!” the Shadow roars, echoing through the corners of the room like thunder. It grips Souji by the chin and pulls him in so that they’re nose-to-nose. “Open your goddamn eyes already, Seta! This is the whole reason why I’m here: because you’re a coward. You didn’t accept me. You only want me to go away, to hide behind the curtain once more. You won’t take the time to reflect on me because I’m telling you the truth! And you hate that! You can’t stand it! You run from it at every possible opportunity! You choose the path of least resistance every single time!”

Kanji attempts to break down the wall, too. When he inevitably fails, he turns to Yosuke with wide-eyes. “Dude, shit’s about to hit the fan. How the hell do we get outta here?!”

“R-Rise-san?” Yosuke asks. “Any ideas?”

“I’m thinking!” Rise feels along the wall, Kanzeon’s hand over hers. “Uhh, let’s check the corners of the wall, use our weapons, stomp on the floor. Do anything you can possibly think of, no matter how stupid it may seem!”

The team don’t waste any time doing these things. Nothing gives or budges. And all the while, the Shadow continues to back its counterpart into a metaphorical corner with its scathing words.

“‘Pursue the truth until the very end’?” the Shadow asks, making air quotes. It sweeps the gesture away in the next second with an arc of its hand that sends Souji stumbling against a TV. “What bullshit. The truth doesn’t mean a thing to you! You’ve been lying to everyone since the very second you stepped off that train. And now what? You beg and plead for them to not leave you, but do you really expect them to still stick by you after all this?” The Shadow shakes its head. “No. It’ll be the cold shoulder from here on out. ‘Sorry, I’m needed at the Inn. Sorry, Dad says Junes is slammed today. Sorry, Sapporo and Osaka and Kamakura are more important than coming home to my son’!”

“S-Stop it…!” Souji chokes out. He leans further against the TV and away from the Shadow. “What was I supposed to do? How could they ever believe something as far-fetched as time-travel?”

“If you hadn’t fucked all the people you supposedly love over the first time, you wouldn’t have to ponder those questions at all! And that is exactly what Reiko Seta tried to tell you so many years ago. ‘Trouble follows you’. Anywhere you go.” The Shadow walks two fingers over Souji’s shoulders and up his neck. “It creeps up behind you, heels at your feet. Mother was so happy before you. Michiaki-kun wasn’t remembered by his class as the queer kid’s filthy crush. Inaba was safe.” The Shadow drops its voice considerably — dangerous, taunting. Its eyes bore into Souji’s own. “As soon as you show up, all things crumble.”

Saki slams her hands against the wall. “Souji-kun, that’s called coincidence! By that logic, Ms. Yamano caused my past murder, I caused Yukiko-chan’s kidnapping, and she caused Kanji’s! Circumstance keeps the world turning. You aren’t born as some sin against the Earth. Things just happen.”

The Shadow removes its hands from Souji. It turns to the rest of them, striding its way over to where the boundary of the invisible wall must lie. “Let me explain something to you. My life is predetermined. I have never been in control of it, and I never will be.” It points at Saki. “You died because of me.” Next, at Yukiko. “And you were kidnapped because of me.” Then, at Kanji, Rise, and Naoto. “All of you were. And what did I do about that? I sat back and let it happen. That’s who I am: forever the good little boy. I keep my mouth shut and take it. My mother beats the living shit out of me for kicks? Fine. I won’t breathe a word of it, and neither will my father. A group of murderers corner me in an alleyway? Good. I’ll hold their hand over the gun. The case isn’t closed? Too bad; so long. I have a train to catch.” The Shadow looks to Yosuke. “And you? You were right. I can’t ever stand up for myself and fight the hell back. All I am is a dog who rolls over and dies in the face of evil. Might as well put a collar around my throat and call it a day. It’s not like I’ll stop you.”

Silence follows this declaration. And really, what do you even say to that? Yosuke breaks his stare from the Shadow and instead focuses on the real thing. Souji’s still lost in some state of emotionlessness, but as he inches his way toward the Shadow, Yosuke swears his friend’s eyes twitch. 

Souji stops just behind his Shadow. He grabs a fistful of the back of its hair and leans forward to whisper in its ear. “You want me to fight back? Then so be it.”

Souji yanks the Shadow backward in the next instant, sending it against the floor with a godawful smack that Yosuke’s sure can be heard from the opposite side of the world. His face finally twists out of its dispassion, revealing nothing but the truest, down-to-its-very-core fury. And it’s so much different from how he looked at Namatame in the hospital, because this anger wasn’t brought on recently. Instead, Yosuke can tell—from personal experience alone—that it’s been brewing for ages. 

Souji rushes wildly to the Shadow. He crouches over it, and with several grunts of force, unleashes punch after punch across its face, kick after ruthless kick to its head and sides. Blood splatters against the invisible wall and TVs; it stains the floor faster than Yosuke can keep up with. And the Shadow could easily grab Souji by the ankle, could throw him to the floor and pin him there, could do anything at all to put a stop to this, but it doesn’t. It won’t.

Souji wants this.

“Here’s your fight, you worthless son of a bitch! Go on, sabotage me some more! What else am I? A disappointment? A murderer? Some fucking faggot?! Spit it out!” Souji strikes the Shadow against the nose. Blood pours not only from its nose, but Souji’s as well. All Souji can do is laugh—completely unhinged—as he wipes at it with his sleeve and resumes the fight. “I hate you. I HATE you! I hate…” A fist across the left cheek. “Every…” Across the right cheek. “Single…” Under the chin. “Part of you! I wish Takaya had shot you through the head that night! I wish Shinjiro had thrown you to the wolves! I wish Inaba had found your body suspended over telephone poles! I wish Reiko Seta had choked you hard enough to kill you like she should have done so long ago!” He staggers as he stands up, kicks his Shadow in the head several more times, then slams his shoe against its throat. A sound like a crunch fills the air. Souji wheezes for breath. “Just… like this…”

“S-Souji! God dammit, Souji, stop!” Yosuke pounds on the wall like his life depends on it. It does nothing. All he can do is stand there and watch as his best friend—dripping in blood, frenzied eyes quickly clouding over as he loses more and more oxygen—literally kills himself. Souji Seta, in all his glory, absolutely come undone. “No. No. I’m not letting it end like this! I h-have to think…” Yosuke closes his eyes and clutches the sides of his head. “The walls… There has to be a way around them. What was it Naoto said…?”

“And you cannot access Winter Tundra and defeat Ripto without collecting all the talismans, right?”

If he wasn’t currently watching someone straddle the threshold between life and death right now, Yosuke would’ve laughed. Spyro. Spyro the goddamn, fucking dragon. He was right all along about the invisible walls, and he immediately understands why the solution around them lies in something so innocent. When you never got the chance to be a kid—when you had your childhood ripped from you just as it began—of course the opportunity to be one would eventually catch up and present itself in your life when you least expect it.

Yosuke grabs Naoto by the shoulders. “In Spyro, there were lots of glitches, right? Like, you could go out of bounds. There were invisible walls you could bypass if you tried hard enough. How did you do it?”

Naoto looks every which way around the room as he thinks. “W-Well, you… you had to do something just… weird… I think. Climb one of the pillars lining the wall. Perform some crazy jump.”

“Climb…?” Yosuke mutters, looking around as well. His eyes land on Kanji. Yosuke points at him, then where the boundary lies. “Kanji, no questions. I need to stand on your shoulders.”

Kanji—and man, Yosuke is thanking whoever’s out there so hard for Kanji Tatsumi right now—immediately stands at the boundary and leans over. Yosuke climbs atop his back, then his shoulders as Kanji straightens up — now near twelve feet high. He sticks his hand out, and holy shit, he’s thanking whoever for Naoto Shirogane too, because air meets his hand. Yosuke jumps forward. He collides against the floor on the other side, gets up, and is pulling Souji away in less than a second.

Souji coughs and sputters under his hold like crazy, and it doesn’t take long until he starts crying, too. The erratic movement of his chest against Yosuke’s hands seems like it will never stop. “F-Fuck. Let me go, Yosuke!” Souji breaks away, yet only momentarily. He’s a good deal stronger than Yosuke, but he’s never been faster. Souji thrashes in his hold for several seconds—sending drops of blood upon Yosuke’s hands—then stills all at once. He lets out a miserable sob. Tears wash away the blood as quick as it appeared. “Let me go… I deserve this…”

“You don’t…” Yosuke whispers. He clutches Souji tighter and rubs soothing motions over his shoulders. 

“Careful, partner…” the Shadow rasps from its spot on the floor. It laughs weakly, blood gushing from the corner of its mouth. “If you touch me, it might rub off on you…”

Yosuke sighs. He drops his voice even further. “Souji, listen to me for a second. You may not believe it, but you have so many people in your life that love you. In fact, there’s someone in particular on the other side who you mean the whole world to. She’s waiting for you as we speak. I made a promise to her recently — a promise to bring you home. In that same moment, I promised myself the same exact thing. So please…” Yosuke’s voice breaks. He buries his head against Souji’s neck. “Please. Let me make good on that promise, partner.”

Souji continues to breathe heavily for several moments, and with each ragged exhale comes cries more broken than even the memory outside of the hospital. It takes him a while—a few more strokes of the shoulder, a few whispered assurances of “I believe in you, partner”—but he finally wipes the blood and tears from his face and lifts his head.

“Okay. Let me go for real this time…” Souji whispers. He puts a hand atop Yosuke’s own. “I’m done.”

“You got it,” Yosuke agrees. He releases Souji. “I’ll be right behind you the entire time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Souji slowly approaches his Shadow, still prone on the floor. He doesn’t extend a hand. Instead, with a certain command to his voice that Yosuke hasn’t heard in ages, he says, “Stand up.”

The Shadow stands. It’s covered in gashes of blood and angry red bruises all the way from its eyes down to its neck. From the position he was in, Yosuke hasn’t yet seen Souji’s face clearly since he climbed over the wall, but he imagines his partner looks the exact same.

“That was a good fight,” the Shadow says. “I never wanted it to end.”

Souji laughs, just barely. “I know.” He steps closer and flicks the Shadow’s headband. “You make a ridiculous Izanagi. Leave it to the real thing.”

“Deflecting again… Stop it already.” Shadow Souji shakes its head and gives a weary smile. “Aren’t you tired by now? The curtains have all fallen. There’s nowhere left to hide.”

Souji smiles, too. He takes a deep breath. “You’re right. I am tired. I’m tired of lying, of putting my heart on the backburner, of stating my belief in truth but refusing to exercise it.” His voice rises with each point he makes, and Yosuke’s heart soars. There’s the decisiveness he admires so much. “I’m tired of looking out for number one. I’m tired of surrendering to the past and giving up on the future. I’m tired of…” He laughs again — loud, goofy, with a hand to his stomach. There’s something so childlike about it. “Of being afraid of my own shadow.”

Yosuke can’t help it. He laughs as well. Though, the action is a bit ruined by the wet sniff that abruptly cuts it off, as well as Teddie’s dramatic wailing from behind the invisible wall. The rest of them look mere seconds away from joining Teddie — all sniffing and holding each other. Even Naoto!

“You…” Souji starts, then shakes his head. “No, I have so many things to work through—more than I could ever count—but I also have so many people in my life that have been telling me since day one that I can rely on them. It’s time I took them up on that offer.” He holds out a hand. “I know who you are, and you’re me.”

The Shadow returns the handshake. It doesn’t take long before it dissolves and a familiar, blue card falls into Souji’s hand in its stead, Izanagi and all the rest of Souji’s Personas returning to their rightful owner. The others stumble forward as the invisible wall disappears. Souji sinks to his knees and sprawls out on the floor.

“Souji-kun!” Chie yells, running toward him and leading the pack. “Are you alright?”

“S-Sensei…” Teddie throws himself to the floor next to Souji and latches onto his waist, burying his head in Souji’s stomach without shame. “I’m s-so proud of you, Sensei.”

“M-Me too, man…” Kanji whispers. He removes his glasses and wipes at his eyes. “Me fuckin’ too. That was so damn cool, Senpai.”

Rise stomps her foot. “Maybe to some! But that took ten years off my life! Souji-senpai, you… you…” She gives up, throws herself next to Teddie, and cries. “We l-love you so much…”

Souji pats them both on the head with lazy movements, obviously too drained to do any more. He looks around at them all and lets out a sigh that drips with finality. “Everyone… thank you.” His eyes find Yosuke last. “I… I can’t move my legs.”

Yosuke smiles softly. “I’ve got you.” Once Teddie and Rise move out of the way, Yosuke lifts him up with one arm under his legs and the other around his waist. “Hold on so I don’t drop you, okay?”

With Souji situated, Rise leads them out of the dungeon and toward the backlot. However, before they can arrive, she turns to Yosuke with a new concern. “Yosuke-senpai, I sense Namatame nearby. I think he’s in Mayumi Yamano’s room. What should we do?”

“Don’t leave ‘m…” Souji mumbles into Yosuke’s neck, breath warm. “Please. He’s… he’s not the true culprit… He needs to come back. He won’t hurt you…”