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“Violet,” said Sophia, and Sumire looked up from the figure she was constructing out of snow. It looked like a Jack Frost, but far friendlier. Beyond her, Futaba’s hands paused their frantic fluttering across the keyboard, and then resumed once she determined that Sophia’s query was neither urgent nor directed towards her. They’d cleared the Sapporo Jail and defeated its Monarch, but it never hurt to be careful, which is why she and Sumire had tagged along when Futaba wanted to go back in to take a closer look at one of the computer terminals. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, of course,” said Sumire, pausing in her own task to lean against the snow-covered wall where Sophia was seated. “What’s up?”
“Ryuji has informed me that the correct answer to that is not ‘the sky,’” she said, “though the sky is above us. Although I’m not sure if anything is above that, since Jails do not exist in the physical world and therefore it is unclear if this world has what we would think of as an atmosphere, let alone outer space.”
“Huh,” Sumire said. “I never thought about that before.” She looked up at the heavy grey clouds, a bit nervously. A snowflake landed on her nose, and she laughed and licked at it with her tongue.
“I have,” Futaba called over, and Sophia realized, with unexpected fondness—although to be fair, fondness was not an emotion she ever expected to feel, as she hadn’t known it existed until recently—that she wasn’t surprised. Was this how it felt to know someone?
“Anyway, what’s your question?” said Sumire. Ah, yes. Her question. She’d gotten distracted. That hadn’t happened until recently either, and Sophia wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Being distracted wasn’t helpful, and as humanity’s companion she was meant to help, but Ryuji had assured her that being distracted was part of being human, and he liked it when she acted human, and if it made him happy, then wasn’t that also helping?
“What do you think is the most important part of being a person?” Sophia wanted to ask all of the Phantom Thieves eventually, but she’d decided to start with Sumire, as she was the one she found least intimidating and most likely to have an answer for her. She had no doubt that Makoto or Goro would have answers, though she worried that she wouldn’t like their answers very much, and while Ryuji was far easier to talk to, she could imagine him scratching his head and telling her that he didn’t know. Akira would be willing to answer, of course, but she was trying not to rely on him for everything, and while Morgana was the one with the most relevant experience to her situation, she was a little bit afraid that his answer might be a little bit too insightful, might cut too closely to the core of her insecurities because they were his insecurities too. After all, humanity’s companion and humanity’s hope weren’t too different from each other.
Besides, she was particularly fond of Sumire, as she understood it, and she wanted to hear what Sumire had to say on the topic. She was fond of Futaba too, and she had started this conversation within Futaba’s hearing so that she might jump in if she wanted to, but she often didn’t understand what Futaba was saying when she started talking about something she had lots of ideas about.
Sumire and Futaba were very different girls, and her fondness for each of them felt different—Sumire made her want to be softer and Futaba made her want to be stranger—but when either of them complimented her she committed it to memory and then replayed it to herself whenever she wanted to be cheered up, though Sumire was more likely to call her hair cute and Futaba was more likely to call her a masterpiece and a marvel and a miracle of science, and whenever she saw them holding hands or leaning against each other in the real world she wished that she had hands of her own.
“Huh,” said Sumire, slowly. “I think being a person is complicated, you know?” She crossed her arms, fidgeting with the cuffs of her mittens. “I guess you probably didn’t hear about this but I kind of… went through some stuff last year.”
“Is this about when reality was rewritten?” she said. “Because Joker told me a little bit about that.”
“Kind of,” said Sumire. “Before everyone else was part of that other reality, my own reality was being changed.” She sighed heavily, her breath a puff of steam in the cold air. “I have- I had a sister. And she- passed away last year.”
“I’m sorry,” said Sophia, because she knew that was what she was meant to say, though she wasn’t sure how much it actually helped.
“Thank you,” said Sumire, patting Sophia’s arm. “Anyway. I had always felt kinda… overshadowed by her, I guess? Like the reason I was here in the world was to support her and cheer her on and help her be the best she could be. And I didn’t mind, because I loved her so much, even though I was starting to think that it might be nice to get a little bit of the spotlight for myself on my own. But that wasn’t gonna happen, so I tried not to think about it too much.”
“I… see,” said Sophia, unsure what this had to do with her question. She listened carefully, because she could tell that it was important to Sumire, but she didn’t fully understand what it meant to have a sister.
“So it was like, I wanted what she had, except I didn’t think that I could have any of that because that wasn’t who I was,” said Sumire, “so there was part of me that wanted to be her. I mean, who wouldn’t, right? She was great. She was everything I wanted to be. She was a star gymnast, and she was a perfect daughter, and she was so kind to everyone, even when she could’ve been such a show-off because she’d definitely earned it. And obviously I knew she worked really really hard, because I was there working hard along with her, but she made it look so effortless. And yeah, part of it was that I was jealous because she was born a girl and I had to figure that out on my own and then try to convince people that I am one but it was more than that. I had somehow convinced myself that she was everything I could never be, like she was more of a real person than I was.”
Sumire’s voice broke on that last sentence, and Sophia patted her arm, hoping she was getting the gesture right. Sophia wanted to reassure her, but the whole reason for this conversation was that she didn’t know what it meant to be a real person. Sumire leaned into the contact with Sophia’s hand, which Sophia thought was an encouraging sign, so she put her arm around Sumire’s shoulders the way she’d seen Ryuji do when someone else was upset. Sumire snuggled even closer, which Sophia took to mean that she’d done the right thing.
“And then Maruki happened,” she said. “The counselor. He thought that the way to help me was to convince me that I was Kasumi and there had never been a Sumire, and at first I thought he was right. But he wasn’t, and I was wrong when I thought that Kasumi was worth more than me. It was the Phantom Thieves, especially Joker and Crow, who helped me see that, but it wouldn’t have mattered if I hadn’t also stood up for myself, because I needed to be my own version of Violet, not theirs.”
“I see,” said Sophia. “I’m sorry all of that happened to you.”
Sumire shrugged, her shoulder bumping into Sophia’s. “Thank you,” she said. “I think the point I’m trying to make is, well, I’ve had to think about that a bit for myself. And I think that for me, the important part of being a person is knowing who I am, and not letting other people determine who I’m supposed to be no matter how well-meaning they are. Even if they might be right sometimes, I’m still the one who gets to figure that out. Like, I’m grateful for the support from my friends and my girlfriend and my parents, but in the end it still had to be me, standing up for myself. That’s what being my own person means to me, anyway.”
“Interesting,” said Sophia. “So would you say that a person is someone who can decide for themself who they are? And by extension, someone can become a person by deciding that they are one?”
“Well, that’s not exactly what I was going for,” said Sumire, “but I guess. Or maybe it’s more like, you’re already automatically a person but you don’t really appreciate that until you figure out what it means to you.”
“I suppose I still have a long way to go, then,” said Sophia. “There’s still so much I don’t understand.”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Sumire. “No one understands everything.”
“I understand most things,” said Futaba, apparently done with her examination of the computer terminal, joining Sumire and Sophia with her hands stuffed firmly in her pockets to protect against the chill, “but that’s just me. R.I.P. to everyone else but I’m different, you know?”
“You do know so many things,” said Sumire, fondly.
“Although I do kinda struggle with being a person, I guess,” Futaba said. “Depending on how you define being a person. Like, I know I’m a human being, obviously, even though sometimes I think it might be easier if I were a computer or something. Computers don’t have to make small talk or go to the grocery store or make eye contact with anyone. Computers make sense to me, and lots of people don’t.”
“I thought you said that you like me because I’m complicated and you don’t understand me?” said Sophia. “That is why you wanted to study my code, correct?”
“Well, kinda,” said Futaba.
“Oracle!” said Sumire, as if Futaba had said something horribly rude, in the same tone that Makoto used when the Phantom Thieves got too off-topic during planning meetings. Sophia didn’t think that Futaba had said anything especially rude, or at least nothing that wasn’t true. She didn’t want it to be true, or at least she didn’t want it to be the whole truth, which was a strange impulse that she wasn’t sure she wanted to diagnose further. She knew that Futaba had been drawn to her by the novelty of her code, and she enjoyed the attention. But recently she had begun to worry that Futaba cared more about what she was and how she was made than who she was. It was a distinction that she wouldn’t have thought to make even a week ago, but she’d changed a lot since then. Everyone said that she was becoming more human, and they said it like a compliment, but Sophia wasn’t so sure. For one thing, she wasn’t sure what she was if she was a person instead of humanity’s companion, and for another thing, what if she became too human to be interesting to Futaba anymore? “That’s not helping.”
“Oh, shit, sorry,” said Futaba. “I didn’t mean it to sound rude or dismissive or anything. See, that’s what I mean, people are complicated, talking to people is hard, I’ve been a human my entire life and I’m still not very good at it.” She laughed, awkward and brittle, and Sumire reached out and rubbed her shoulder. “But the thing is, okay, yeah, your code is like, the coolest thing I’ve ever seen but that’s not the only thing I like about you, you know? And you’re not a computer, you’re an AI and a person and my friend, and honestly the last thing is the one that I care about the most.” Futaba reached over and punched Sumire lightly in the arm, the way she’d seen her do to Yusuke and Ryuji and Akira, and when Sophia smiled Futaba smiled back. “Like, you can figure out whatever you wanna be or how you wanna think of yourself, but I think that you’re pretty neat no matter what you decide, and I’m still gonna think you’re neat even if that changes.”
“Oh,” said Sophia. She wondered if her cheeks were warm because her circuits were overheating from thinking too hard, or if this was what humans called blushing. She wasn’t even sure if she had circuits in this form, but she could definitely feel heat in her face despite the cold air of the Jail. “I think I understand now, thank you! Being a person is about making connections with others, like the bonds that Joker talks about, and they can help you figure out what personhood means even though you ultimately have to be the one to define it for yourself.”
“Yeah, pretty much,” said Futaba. “Right, Violet?”
“Right!” said Sumire. She squeezed Sophia’s shoulder reassuringly, like she knew how relieved Sophia was to hear Futaba say that, even though Sophia didn’t quite understand the depth of her own reaction. Was this how it felt to be known?
“Thank you,” said Sophia. “I’m glad we had this conversation! Oracle, did you get everything you needed?”
“Yeah, I uploaded the weird operating system from that terminal, I just gotta look at it more closely once we get back to our world,” said Futaba. “Thanks for keeping watch.”
“It was no trouble,” said Sumire. “I enjoyed getting to spend time with Sophie.”
“And I enjoyed getting to spend time with you,” said Sophia. “Should we head back now?”
“Maybe not quite yet,” said Futaba slowly, a smile curling onto her lips like she was planning something. “How do you feel about a snowball fight?”
“A snowball… fight?” said Sophia, looking around. She didn’t see any danger, despite what Futaba had said, but she dropped into a combat stance all the same.
“I thought you would never ask,” said Sumire, scooping up a handful of snow and tossing it directly into Futaba’s face, and Futaba cackled, retaliating with a ball of snow that she’d apparently been holding behind her back.
“Oh, I see,” said Sophia, picking up some snow and dropping it on Sumire’s head, but Sumire giggled and twisted out of the way.
“Too slow,” she said, ducking behind Sophia as Futaba threw another snowball in their direction. But Sophia was getting the hang of this now, so she sidestepped at the last minute and the snowball hit Sumire instead.
“This is fun,” she said, launching a counterattack at Futaba. “We should do more of this.”
“Next time we have a little bit of downtime, we can come back,” Futaba promised, right before one of Sumire’s snowballs hit her in the back. “Hey! You distracted me!”
“I wasn’t doing it on purpose,” said Sophia. “I apologize.”
“Nah, you’re fine,” said Futaba. Her hair looked even redder by contrast with all the snowflakes in it. Sumire’s did too. It was an entrancing sight. If that was how she always looked, with her red hair and white outfit, no wonder Futaba and Sumire both seemed to have such trouble looking away from her. They all matched, and Sophia found that she liked the thought of being part of a matching set with the two of them. “I always get distracted when a pretty girl is talking to me.”
And then it was Sophia’s turn to lose her focus and allow herself to be hit with a snowball, which collided with her shoulder and sent a spray of wet powder across her face. Her face was definitely overheating, and it must’ve somehow spread to her heart, because even covered in snow she still felt warm all the way through.