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The building was completely warped from its sleek, modern exterior. The architecture was more befitting of an old theater, even as it loomed tall above the three of them— spotlights pointed up at the ink black sky, devoid of stars.
“And this is supposed to be the TV station?” Tohru broke the ice, speaking up first. Gaudy bulb lights bordered large, cut-out letters spelling out the broadcast company’s name. It looked like a parody of itself, bold and overstated.
Yu tilted his head up in an attempt to view the entire spectacle. “This is the TV station. Kirijo-san mentioned reports of heightened shadow activity, but…”
The kid trailed off, his brow furrowing. That’s what happened when you grew too comfortable with a new rhythm, Tohru thought. The world would find some way to fuck it all up.
Within the past few months, there’d been a lot of strange occurrences within this other world: Shadows would begin congregating in ‘distorted space’, as Yamagishi put it— pinpointed locations in this alternate Tokyo that would start to look different in appearance. Whether it was the chicken or the egg that came first, the two ideas were correlated. This was the first time one had cropped up so quickly; on top of that, it hardly looked recognizable as its real-world equivalent.
“The only time I’ve seen anything like this was back then. When we were rescuing people who were thrown into the TV.”
“The Midnight Channel is gone, isn’t it?” Tohru scratched the back of his head. “It’d be kind of ridiculous for it to make another comeback after all that P-1 Grand Prix stuff.”
Teddie peered around the kid’s back, staring up at the menacing structure. “This feels bear-y different,” he announced, his punctuated pun prompting a groan from Tohru. “I don’t really understand why, but it’s something about the Shadows.”
“Are they stronger?” Yu asked, a hand resting gently on the hilt of his sword. After all of this time in a proper Shadow Operatives organization, and he still preferred that thing to a gun, Tohru thought to himself. Then again, he supposed it won out over some of the honorary members’ choices.
“Hmm,” Teddie hummed with great concentration, and Tohru caught Yu’s glance over to him with a raised brow as he patted the hilt of his sword. It’s not that weird, is it?
He could barely withhold another groan, rolling his eyes. Yu smiled.
“I dunno if stronger is the right word for it,” Teddie finally continued, oblivious, “but it almost feels like they’ve changed. Or that they’re in disguise?”
Tohru flicked one of Teddie’s little ears. “Ah, so like what you’re doing in that bear costume, right?”
“I’ll have you know, this bear fur is a luxury to behold!” the bear whined indignantly, waving his mascot arms. “Nothing at all like those cheap costumes inside!”
“Seriously, though,” he continued, “why do you wear the costume out on missions? Feels like it’d get in the way, wouldn’t it?”
“Hmph, how rude! Hasn’t anyone taught you not to ask a bear why he’s wearing what he's wearing?”
Tohru stared at the bear, tone flat and curiosity fizzling out as fast as it’d peaked: “Nope.”
With a smile on his face, Yu adjusted his tie and flattened the lapels of his operative jacket. “Maybe we should ask Kirijo-san about tailoring an outfit for Teddie’s bear suit.”
“Oh?” Teddie struck yet another pose, grinning. “With that, I’d truly be i-bear-resistible!”
“Or unbearable,” Tohru muttered, a moment passing before he spoke up again. “I’m curious about these disguised Shadows, though.”
“We won’t know more unless we go in,” Yu said, straightening up with a sudden air of authority. Showtime, Tohru thought, a hand checking his gun holster. “But we need to be careful.”
“Roger that, Boss,” he responded airily despite the apprehension coiling his every muscle. Tohru tried to ignore the way the kid’s eyes softened at the edges as they landed on him first, before looking at Teddie.
“Roger, roger!” Teddie echoed, saluting (or attempting to, anyway, with how short his stubby arms were in costume).
If the outside was strange, the inside was surreal. The reception area was both hauntingly empty yet bathed in excess; Tohru found himself grateful for the plush carpet cushioning their footfalls, even if there were no signs of an enemy yet. The thoughtful tension in Yu’s brow stopped him from speaking, instead taking a moment to note the layout of the room.
If this was a distorted space, it was one hell of a convincing one. Careful, Tohru brushed the tips of his fingers against the marble pillar by the entrance. Cold and smooth, but most of all: solid.
“It feels real,” he affirmed under his breath, not wanting his voice to carry farther than it needed to. “This place is completely different.”
“We should stick together, then,” Yu decided, voice low. “Teddie, stay close behind us.”
“Okay!” Teddie nodded emphatically with a hushed whisper, his entire body tilting forward and back.
While the building was clearly themed after a theater, Tohru couldn’t help but feel like he was in a museum as they crossed under a particularly ornate arch. Red-carpeted stairs led them up, his hand running along the banister soaked in gold, and yet there were no signs that this building was used, or even lived in at all. Even the slight zing in the other world’s air felt stilled, stale— as though gently smothered by the ornate heaviness.
As they made it to the next floor, Tohru caught something bright from the corner of his eye, turning his hand.
Blood?
His entire palm was soaked red, with no injury to be found; the tips of his fingers were a darker, deeper color— dried. The sight made his stomach turn, breath short.
“Adachi-san?” Yu’s concerned tone startled him, dropping his hand by his side.
“Eh? What is it?” Right, Yu could probably sense something was wrong. Keeping secrets from him was hard enough in the first place, what with his meaningful prodding; now, picking up on each other’s feelings meant there was really no point in being secretive at all.
“Did something happen to your hand?” Direct and to the point as always. Tohru held in a sigh, slowly lifting and splaying his palm for them to see.
“Whoa! Are you hurt?” Teddie asked, eyes wide with worry.
He shook his head, motioning to the top of the banister just beside them. “It’s probably because I was touching this. The tips of my fingers are already dried, so I think that’s from when I touched the pillar.”
Yu’s brow furrowed, thoughtful, pressing the tip of his finger against the banister for a long moment and then lifting it. “... It didn’t happen to me.”
“Huh?” Tohru stared blankly as Yu showed him. “Jeez, what’s with this place?”
“If these distorted spaces are anything like the TV world, I wonder if it has to do with the subconscious of the people outside looking in.”
“That’s a nice way of saying the world perceives me as a killer,” Tohru commented, wiping his hand on his pants. Whether Yu was right or not, it didn’t make this place any less creepy.
“This place feels different,” Teddie asserted as they came to a fork in the path, turning left. “It feels… separated from the outside.”
There was too much they didn’t know. Hopefully, the team back at headquarters would have more insight, although Tohru didn’t find that too likely.
Yu frowned, his fingers tightening around his sword’s scabbard.
“I hear something,” he murmured as they turned the corner.
Hordes of people clamored around each of the theater’s entrances, pushing body against body against door. They moved as a mass, undulating thoughtlessly in a way that reminded Tohru of zombies. Instinctively, Yu and Tohru pulled back against the wall to avoid being spotted; Teddie lagged behind before Tohru grabbed at his arm, dragging him back with them.
“Hey, be more careful,” he hissed. “Those are Shadows, right? They could’ve seen you!”
“Those… aren’t Shadows,” Teddie responded, confused, and Tohru frowned.
“What else would they be? They’re definitely not real people.”
“I… I don’t know!” the bear stammered, peering back around the wall. “But I know what Shadows feel like, and they’re different.”
“What do they feel like, then?” Yu asked, their arms brushing as he relaxed his grip on his sword.
“They feel like… nothing. Like everything else here. I don’t think they’re alive.” Well, that just added points to his zombie case.
“Either way, we’re definitely not getting through this way,” Tohru pointed out.
“How about finding the backstage area?” Yu suggested. “This whole place seems to be based off of a theater. But even at a TV station, there has to be something similar, right?”
“Sensei is so wise!” Teddie fawned; Tohru rolled his eyes.
“Alright, alright. We might have to keep going up before we find any unmanned doors, though.”
Thankfully, they only had to climb one more floor before noticing an empty space to the side of one of the main doors. There it was: a small hallway with a nondescript door. Unfortunately, the door wasn’t entirely abandoned.
“Guards,” Tohru muttered. “Seems like whatever this place is hiding, we’re on track to uncovering it.”
“Teddie?” Yu deferred, and the bear bobbed his head.
“These are Shadows,” he affirmed. “The nose knows!”
Tohru elected to just ignore that last pun. “There’s only two of them. Should we fight?”
Nodding, Yu held out his free hand, white-hot energy gathering towards his palm. As it coalesced, Tohru reminded himself to do the same, eyes slipping shut as he concentrated. It had always been easier to rely on his nihilistic rage and adrenaline— now, he willed Magatsu-Izanagi to him as beckoning his presence closer, closer…
His eyes snapped open to the outpouring of blue and red light coming from the both of them, a slowly spinning card in each of their palms.
“Izanagi!”
“Magatsu-Izanagi!”
Crushing those cards, their Personas appeared in a flash of light; Tohru could hear the guards’ footsteps as they began approaching, pulling his gun from the holster.
“They’re getting closer, and fast!” Teddie warned.
“Not fast enough,” Tohru quipped, rounding the corner to make eye contact; as expected, the guards balked for a moment, giving him ample chance to strike. Magatsu-Izanagi swooped in from above, hair ruffling from the gust of wind as he brought down his blade. The ground fragmented, rocks making impact with the undersides of the guards’ jaws.
The moment they were hit, their bodies stuttered— moving haltingly before they exploded into a mass of black energy, revealing the Shadows Tohru was accustomed to seeing. So Teddie was right: they were disguised.
Static electricity filled the air, and Tohru felt the looming presence of Izanagi behind him, hand outstretching into his periphery. Before they even knew what hit them, the Shadows were struck by bolts of lightning.
As they staggered, Tohru took aim. A flurry of gunshots ripped through the air, and it was over; the Shadows crumpled, their bodies hitting the floor before disintegrating, clearing a path.
“Whoa, nice going, Adachy-baby!” Teddie cheered, effectively also disintegrating any sense of smug pride Tohru felt about a job well done. He could feel the silent laughter thrumming in Yu’s chest as he ducked his gaze, grumbling to himself as he took a moment to reload.
“We should keep moving. We may have alerted more of them.” Ever the leader, Yu was.
“Come on,” Tohru urged, pushing his side into the door, leaning against it to hold it open. Teddie waddled past first, with Yu throwing a glance down where they just came from.
“It looks like we’re not being followed,” Yu noted as the door clicked shut behind them, all three of them taking in the longer, wider hall ahead. The bear whimpered, ducking behind Tohru as their eyes adjusted to the comparatively dim lighting.
“There’s lots more Shadows up ahead. Be careful, okay?”
“If those last ones were anything to go by, this’ll be easy,” Tohru assured with an aloof smirk. Of course, that was assuming they weren’t as well-versed in the elements of horror as this part of the distortion was, anyway. Cracked marble flooring met what looked like old scuffed wood in an elevated zig-zag, as though they’d collided halfway. As they continued moving, the cracks on the walls deepened, parting enough for them to view rotting structural beams.
Yu paused at the juncture between marble and wood, testing his weight before falling back into a brisk pace. Tohru followed, Teddie waddling a few steps behind. Unfortunately, the wood only rotted more the farther they moved. Yu’s foot suddenly broke through the floor, causing a wider crack that caught Tohru in its wake, Teddie just narrowly avoiding falling with them to the floor below.
Tohru officially hated whatever this distorted space was.
“Sensei? Adachi?! Are you okay?!”
“Define ‘okay’?” Tohru complained, rubbing his back as he pulled himself to a stand.
“We’re alright,” Yu assured. “Just wait up there! We’ll find a way back up to you.”
“Don’t take too long, okay?” Teddie’s anxious voice wafted from above.
“Yeah, yeah. C’mon, Yu-kun, let’s get out of here.”
The two of them headed towards the door at the end of the hall, pushing past it into a pitch-black space. Great, Tohru thought sourly.
The booming click of a large light stunned them both, their heads snapping towards the sound just as the curtains behind them began to part. Tohru squinted as the spotlight moved, shining oppressively over them. They were on stage, he realized, looking out to where the crowd would be.
Tohru could have sworn that the darkness cast across the seats was moving—
Suddenly, he was tugged to the side, Yu’s grip firm on his shoulder as a gust of wind sliced up the curtains behind them. There were Shadows here, too?! He squeezed his eyes shut, blinking a few times to adjust to the darkness before realizing: the spotlight was following them.
“We need to get off this stage,” Tohru said as they side-stepped the spotlight again. “They’re using the light—”
“— to blind us,” the kid finished, nodding quickly. “This way!”
Yu made a break for it, Tohru right behind him as he led them backstage. They bolted up a few flights of stairs at the wings; Izanagi held the Shadows up halfway, skewering a few through his blade. Yu barrelled through the door, Tohru pushing past it as they sprinted across a catwalk, cloaked in the darkness up above.
A deafening crash. The catwalk screeched in protest, Tohru stumbling back as Magatsu-Izanagi pushed back against an archangel’s sword. Somehow, the structure didn’t collapse completely— but any relief Tohru could have felt froze icy cold in an instant.
“Shit- Yu—!”
The kid was hanging onto the edge of the catwalk for dear life, the safety rail bent beyond recognition above his head. Tohru narrowly ducked a spear of light, kneeling to a crawl as Yu’s fingers blanched with effort, slowly slipping. He wasn’t sure how much more abuse the structure could take. Even his weight could tip the scale and cause them both to fall—
“Adachi-san,” Yu gasped, gray eyes round with shock.
Before he knew it, he’d dove across the grated floor, one of his feet firmly hooked against the other edge of the catwalk. His hand slid up Yu’s forearm, grasping it as tightly as possible as his other hand clutched the bent railing beside his head.
Tohru grunted, straining; Yu’s weight compressed his ribcage to metal, making even taking a breath a gargantuan effort. His arm reaching down felt like it was going to be pulled clean out of its socket, the entirety of it burning, heavy. He didn’t have the upper body strength to pull the kid up from this angle, but he couldn’t let him fall from this height, either.
He knew Yu could sense it. His head turned, glancing at the stage far below them, before their eyes met again. Tohru squeezed his forearm tighter in response, a silent denial. He could hold on— until what, though, Tohru didn’t know.
The sound of wings flapping caught their attention, turning their heads towards a couple of stray Shadows that had spotted them.
Adachi swore again. Where the hell were their Personas? He could feel Magatsu-Izanagi still fighting off the archangel behind him, and he spotted Izanagi below, facing off against two other Shadows in the audience. That didn’t give either of them enough time to swoop in.
One of the Shadows began preparing another light attack, aiming it directly at Yu. Tohru grunted as he tried to reach between grate and body for his gun with his free hand, managing to pull it out as he began slipping forward. His ankle dug into the other end of the catwalk, a sharp pain blooming as he supported his arm on the catwalk, cocking the gun.
He pulled the trigger just as the Shadow struck. It staggered, but not before a blinding spear of light forced Tohru to close his eyes; his torso slipped over the edge of the catwalk as his foot scraped along the other edge, pulling off his shoe. Just as he did, he felt Yu’s arm forcefully slipping from his grip— his heart dropping as his hand grasped for nothing but air.
The moment he opened his eyes, Tohru saw Yu sprawled out at a terrible angle on center stage, Shadows encroaching. He wouldn’t make it. Tohru grunted with exertion as he pulled himself back onto the catwalk, pushing himself to his hands and knees, gun scraping metal. He wouldn’t make it. He crawled across the catwalk until adrenaline pumped through his legs, springing him to a stand as he stumbled back down the stairs. He wouldn’t make it. Tohru tripped, falling against the wall and pushing his entire body weight into the door, gun clattering to the ground as he did. He wouldn’t make it, but he had to make it.
“Get out of the way,” Tohru snarled, breathless, ruthless. Summoning Magatsu-Izanagi had gotten easier, or so he thought— his hand instinctively grabbed the side of his head with a familiar cramp. Thankfully, his Persona still moved as an extension of his will, slicing cleanly through the masses of Shadows separating him and Yu. The moment his path was cleared, Tohru booked it; he nearly tripped trying to stop his momentum, falling to his knees beside Yu’s unconscious body. The only thing stopping him from wincing at the harsh impact was the sheer adrenaline numbing the shock.
Shit, he looked terrible. His clammy, shaky hands pulled the kid up into his arms. The back of his head was warm. Wet. Tohru knew they shouldn’t have pressed on when they got separated from the damn bear— at least his Persona had strong healing spells. What good was he in this situation? Yu had grown strong, and that strength only kept building as time had progressed. Maybe no one had expected him to fall. When had Tohru become so optimistic as to think Yu wouldn’t fall?
Dark gray lashes fluttered. Tohru’s heart leapt into his throat, panicky adrenaline still too strong to allow any wave of relief to dislodge it.
“Yu,” he breathed. His breathing was too shallow. Too ragged. The kid’s lips twitched, parting in an attempt to make sound, and nothing but a hoarse, pained exhale whistled out of his throat. What he couldn’t say, Tohru could feel; for the first time since their Personas had merged, the once creepy sensation of their minds connecting comforted him.
At the same time, though, their connection only confirmed the awful truth: he was dying.
He was dying, and all Tohru could do was sit back and watch.
“What kind of sick joke is this, huh?” he demanded, “This is how the oh-so-perfect Yu Narukami goes down? All alone, in the middle of a freak show like this?”
Not alone . Tohru sensed the gentle and weak defiance dripping down and rippling with a terrifying clarity in his mind. No interference, no guardedness that kept even a semblance of normality between them. He could see directly into Yu, as though his heart and mind were translucent, beating feelings and feeling thoughts as though they were Tohru’s own. They seeped into his pores, filling his bruising lungs with a thick, honeyed warmth he’d never known in more than the slightest trickle.
Or was it just that he’d never let that warmth in?
Tohru’s head bowed down, heavy against Yu’s. His limbs were leaden, his aching, begging body forgotten. For the first time, he hungrily reached out for Yu’s misplaced feelings without a scrap of hesitation. Unwavering kindness that Tohru dismissed continually as weakness, as naïveté. Without any barrier between them, feeling it in its entirety, all he could think to himself was how fucking dumb he was. How dumb they both were.
As Yu slipped away, their connection did, too: honey cloying and sticking to his ribs, pressing against them, stealing the breath from his lungs.
A loud, wet sniff as his nose pressed against the bridge of Yu’s own. Oh, that was why he could barely breathe, Tohru realized faintly, a laugh bubbling up in his throat, only to escape as a strange, high-pitched whimper. Was he really this pathetic? Was it selfishness, desperation, or some combination of both?
Tohru squeezed his eyes shut, chasing after that connection again. Reaching out, desperately, in the sea of reddish darkness behind his eyelids, fingers brushing against that intense warmth and curling them shut, weakly pulling the threads of it closer even as it continued unraveling, disintegrating. As he did, memories danced around his peripheries, names at the tip of his tongue. That cosmic heat pulled orbit into itself, burning as bright as a star. He could feel his presence, beckoning him closer and closer…
“Helel,” he exhaled with all of the relief of remembering an old friend’s name, and he appeared in a burst of light above them. Tohru tilted his head up, lips parted in awe. The fallen angel wasn’t his to command; he was one of Yu’s Personas, but he drifted down, wide wingspan cocooning them as an extension of Tohru’s will. As an extension of their will.
Enveloped in a gentle, warm light, Tohru felt the metal agony melting off of his ribcage, the strength returning to his shaky arms, and the low, steady undercurrent of Yu’s soul stirring in the back of his mind. Which, of course, meant that Yu himself was stirring, eyelids fluttering as he groaned.
“Adachi-san…?” he murmured, blinking away death’s sleepiness as though he was just waking up from a long nap. Tohru felt acutely aware of his face, all of a sudden, raising his shoulder to try and dry his eyes in the fabric.
“Way to try and play the hero,” he mocked, internally hating how hoarse and wet his voice sounded at the edges. Why he bothered to try and hide was anyone’s guess, at this point. He could tell Yu already had an inkling from the way his eyes slowly widened, before his face melted into the smallest, dopiest smile.
“Thank you.”
Yu slowly sat up, Tohru reluctantly relinquishing his hold as he did the same. As his hand pressed to the floor to push himself up, Yu covered it with his own.
Tohru turned his head to look at him, lips parting to speak before he was silenced.
His heart skipped a beat— both at the suddenness, and at the sudden realization that his kiss tasted the same way his soul felt: sweet, warm, inviting. After nearly losing it all once, Tohru’s heart was scrubbed too raw to even muster the thought of pulling away again. Instead, his free hand desperately slid up Yu’s arm, his shoulder, his neck, cupping his face like a lifeline as he kissed back, eyes sliding shut.
After what felt like an eternity, Yu gently pulled away, only to press their foreheads together with a tender smile. Tohru simply watched him, allowing himself to bask in it for a moment, allowing himself to deserve it for a moment. Nothing could possibly ruin it for him.
“Sensei! Adachi!” Teddie cried.
… never mind. He knew Yu could sense his frustration when he let out a gentle laugh, rolling his eyes as they pulled away from each other.
“Teddie, great timing. We should pull back for now and head back to headquarters. Can you take us there?”
“Mhm! You can count on me!”
Yu pulled himself to a stand, before outstretching a hand to Tohru.
Tohru took it.
