Work Text:
As the doors to her apartment complex slide open, Rise stills, breath catching in her throat. Pale mist coats the Tokyo street, a deceptively gentle blanket that nonetheless smothers the city’s usually constant thrum of life. As pale tendrils waft past her eyes, a damp chill settling over her tastefully exposed shoulders, it takes all of her effort to resist a shudder.
No amount of willpower can stop the way her stomach clenches, however.
Rise hates fog. It reminds her of quiet streets, the scent of tofu, her grandma’s gentle smile, a mouth covering her hand as she screams into chloroform, and the kind smiles and lights in the eyes of the friends she deluded herself into thinking she had and –
Taking a deep breath in, Rise instantly stops thinking.
“Everything okay, Kujikawa-san?”
Automatically donning a pout – childish enough to dampen any suspicion that she’s genuinely upset – she turns to her bodyguard’s side. Hasegawa’s wavy hair is mildly greasy as always, though she’s got to give him points for his stubble – it’s the perfect amount of grown out. His eyebags, on the other hand, totally tank his fashion points and hard.
(Still, it’s not like the spotlight’s going to be on him anyway. In fact, Rise kinda likes the disheveled look. It’s going to give Inoue a heart attack too, something her mischievous streak is very much looking forward to.)
“It’s so foggy!” The singer whines. “How on earth is the driver meant to get us to the gala in this? Ugh.” Her shoulders sink – perfect, theatrical, just the way she was trained to do. “What if this messes up my hair?”
Successfully disarmed, Hasegawa scratches the back of his head with a chuckle. “I’m sure you’ll still look lovely by the time we get there even if your hair loses some of its curls, Kujikawa-san.”
“Aw, you’re too kind!” She giggles.
It earns a flustered smile, but instead of digging for more, Hasegawa pulls out his phone and asks Inoue where exactly he’s parked. Her bodyguard is perfect like that – he buys into Risette hook, line, and sinker, but has no interest in sinking his teeth into her and devouring her whole, not like many men do. Their interactions are superficial, meaningless, and enjoyable, just the way she wants them to be.
It’s way better chatting to him than Inoue at the very least, given the utter beating her pride took after she was forced to come crawling back to him after –
Okay, wow, she’s not going to think about that either!
As anticipated, by the time they find the limo and slip inside, Inoue’s face puckers like he’s bitten into a lemon the second he sees Hasegawa’s unwashed hair. Shooting him a disarming smile and an even more pointed glare, her manager takes the hint. Taking a deep breath in, he chokes down the words clearly in his throat, and in turn, Hasegawa is totally oblivious to the honestly somewhat pathetic glare Inoue shoots his way.
All conversation dies quickly – it’s going to be a long night of chatting to adoring fans, getting carted around for photographs, and selling the beautiful, glorious product that is Risette, so she needs to be on her A-game. No straining her throat here.
On a trip like this, she’d normally idle away her time by staring out of the window, daydreaming up increasingly silly scenarios about the lives of the people her eyes land on, but the only world the glass screens show today is one of an eerie, murky grey. Sighing, Rise instead takes up staring at one of the leather seats, a notch of resentment bubbling in the pit of her stomach. She wishes she were one of those people who could read in the car, but alas, doing so has always earned her a one-way trip to pukesville, and she's definitely not risking that now.
(Yu could read on the bus. She thinks it makes her hate him just a tiny bit more. For promising her the world, and leaving her - them - in the dust.)
Rise isn’t sure who turns on the radio, but the sudden, staticky drone is a welcome reprieve from her increasingly bitter thoughts.
… For a moment, anyway.
“Following his shock retirement last month, Superintendent General Matsumoto’s replacement has officially been announced. Former Commissioner Adachi Tohru has been selected to lead the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department in his stead. Earlier today, he gave a statement to the press where he vowed that he's ready to step into his predecessor’s boots, and bring safety back to Tokyo after the spate of Mental Shutdown incidents that occurred earlier this year…”
Rise automatically scoffs. Seriously, Adachi? That’s who they wanted to make the second most important cop in the country? The same Adachi who totally botched every single case she ever saw him work on? Good for him, she supposes, but Christ. She's worried about the state of his country.
“How the heck did a loser like him get a job like that? Jeez – I knew the police were kind of pathetic, but honestly, that’s just sad.” She mutters none-too-quietly to herself, before promptly remembering that, oh wait, Hasegawa used to be a cop, right? With a wince, Rise turns to her bodyguard. “Uh, no offense! I’m sure you did a good job when you were on the force!”
“None taken.” Hasegawa scowls, his expression uncharacteristically dark as he crosses his arms. “… You don’t get promoted by being a good cop – you get promoted by knowing how to play the game.”
On that depressing note, the limo falls silent.
(It looks like Rise isn’t the only one hiding her demons.)
…..
Smile. Wave. Flash. The bright lights of the paparazzi’s cameras bear down on her the second she steps inside the hotel lobby, golden lights filling the massive hall as crystal chandeliers sparkle, large marble columns holding the fresco ceiling aloft. Switching seamlessly from Rise to Risette, it’s easy not to think as she performs a ritual so familiar she could do it in her sleep. Striding down the gilded carpet, Rise twirls a finger through her hair – sensually, adultly, but not tastelessly overt – and on cue, the fans scream, chasing the fog away with them.
She loses herself in the flow, slipping from one pose to the next. While she knows in reality the gala is nothing but an excuse for the rich and powerful to throw a massive, boozy party, it is theoretically supposed to be a fashion show, so Rise might as well just pretend for a while.
(She’s very good at pretending, after all.)
Eventually, though, she’s guided out of the foyer and into the hall, her shoulders relaxing contentedly the second she’s out of the public’s eye. Moderation is important, after all – while Inaba taught her a lot of unpleasant lessons in the end, the fact that she needs to be both Rise and Risette wasn’t one of them. For now, if only for a moment, it’s time to be Rise again.
… Unfortunately, it's not a moment that lasts long.
She hears Ishida’s high heels clack against the marble floor before she sets eyes on the woman. The event coordinator is a mousy thing in appearance, with a short, greying bob and equally small stature, though Rise has learnt by now that in temperament, Ishida is anything but.
“Ishida-san!” Inoue greets jovially, only to be utterly ignored as the event coordinator makes a beeline straight to Rise.
“Oh, thank god, there you are, Risette! How’s your hair? Okay, that’s not too bad.”
Shoving down her irritation as Ishida runs a hand through her hair, Rise takes a deep breath in. As tempting as it is to snap - and boy, it's tempting - she knows when to pick her battles, and this isn't one of them. Especially since the event coordinator’s lips are bitten to the point of redness, and she’s so full of nerves, she’s quite literally trembling from them.
Thankfully, the event coordinator soon steps out of her personal space. “Hurry up, hurry up – we don’t have much time!”
“… Everything okay, Ishida-san?” Her manager flashes her a concerned glance, and Rise can’t blame him.
“Of course it isn’t!” Snapping, Ishida throws her hands up into the air. “I’ve been preparing for this show for months – months! – only to have to rearrange everything this morning because of this blasted weather! Fog, in Tokyo, at this time of year? It’s unheard of!”
Wringing her hands, Ishida looks half a second away from exploding in panic, and Rise can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy despite how annoying the woman is.
As they weave through the hotel, Rise catches sight of familiar figures – model Takeba Yukari chatting a woman with red curls, socialite Okumura Haru standing at her father’s side, and she reckons she might have even caught a glance of the elusive idol Hiiragi Alice – but Ishida pushes her onwards before she can get a good look.
All signs of the event coordinator’s stress instantly slip off her face, however, as she sets eyes on a figure down the hall.
Curious, Rise scans the young man. She’s never met Akechi Goro in person before, but if you want to get ahead in the idol game, you need to keep a finger on the pulse. Plus, well, it was hard not to pay attention to him, given the whole second coming of the Detective Prince thing.
Flashing him a smile, she prays he isn’t at all like Naoto. The fog alone has disturbed her enough for one evening.
He returns her grin, reddish-brown eyes warm, but before either of them can speak, Ishida charges forward like the hurricane she is.
“The hottest icons for both men and women… yes, yes!” She frames her hands as if taking a photo. “This is going to be perfect! Come quickly, come quickly – we need to give the press something they can bite on before things close up to the public!”
Akechi manages to flash Rise a sympathetic glance that she returns with full sincerity, but then Ishida basically shoves them out of the hall, and instantly the masks slam back on. As she and the teenager slip between poses, giving the fashion magazines something worth writing about, Rise finds herself relaxing. Because the flash of the camera shows genuine glee in Akechi’s eyes, his gentle smile nothing at all like her former friend’s typical curt frown.
He's not like Naoto – he’s like Rise, and thank god for that.
…..
By the time Rise is finally released from press-duties hell, she’s been forcing a smile so long her cheeks are burning. Her shoulders sag in relief the second the door slams behind them, and glancing towards Akechi, she feels a pang of envy – the detective doesn’t even look tired!
Thankfully, it seems Ishida has already forgotten all about them, the coordinator scowling at her buzzing phone for a split second before shoving it back in her pocket, resuming her conversation with Inoue as the duo march further into the hotel.
At long last, the superstars are on their own.
(Well, on their own if you ignore Hasegawa, which is normally pretty easy to do in situations like this).
“I must say, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Kujikawa-san.” Akechi’s voice is as warm as his caramel brown hair as he turns to face the singer. “I’ll admit I don’t have the time to listen to much pop music, though I know talent when I hear it, and you are most definitely talented.”
“Aw, you’re too kind!” Rise giggles, her smile slipping into something more sincere. “Y’know, I respect the work you do too – I don’t have great experiences with the police, so I’m glad someone’s out there actually keeping a proper eye out for the people!”
(Someone who’s hopefully far more qualified than she ever was.)
“That’s not even lip service.” Hasegawa speaks up for the first time in a while, probably feeling some weight off his shoulders now that he’s both out of the public eye and well away from Inoue and the like. “Kujikawa-san had some rather choice words about them on the way over here.”
“Mainly Adachi!” Rise winces – sure, Hasegawa didn’t mind her bagging the police, but he’s an ex-cop, while Akechi very much isn’t. “I just, uh, saw him working on a case once and wasn’t impressed.”
Thankfully, though, the Detective Prince takes her words in stride. Rubbing his chin, his smile turns a tad more wry. “Ah, yes – that explains a lot. Be assured, though, that while his crime scene investigation skills might be… slightly on the underwhelming side, Adachi-san does have a good eye for –”
Whatever Akechi was about to say is drowned out by a loud thunk. Instantly, the trio snaps to alert.
Rise hadn’t noticed the fire exit earlier – sheesh, why did she ever think her observation skills were good enough to solve a murder? – but now that the big, bulky door is swinging on its axis, it’s impossible not to see it.
The fact that someone’s opened it is a lot less interesting than figuring out why someone opened it to begin with, anyway.
“Oh, great.” Hasegawa huffs. “If that was some bloody paparazzi…!”
“We better do something about it before tawdry gossip rags start posting stories of our three-way love affair.” Akechi rolls his eyes, though there’s a hint of a smile on his face.
“I suppose you’re right.” The bodyguard’s shoulders drop. “Stay there, Kujikawa-san. Hopefully, this won’t take long.”
“No way! I’m coming with you!” Pouting, she places her hands on her hips.
Sure, Rise is well aware she’s not qualified to solve any crimes (… not that one has even necessarily been committed), but like hell she’s gonna stand here all on her lonesome – that firstly sounds really boring, and secondly sounds like a great way to get ambushed by Ishida again. Pass. Hard pass.
Hasegawa scowls, but Akechi pre-emptively ends the argument by striding towards the fire escape. Poking her tongue out at her body guard, Rise twirls around after him, leaving Hasegawa to follow them with a trudge.
Rise regrets it the second she steps outside. A thick, off-white mist fills the alleyway before them, the fog swirling as the movement of the door disrupts it. With a frown, Akechi tentatively grips the hotel’s guardrail before descending, the sound of his footsteps half-swallowed by the fog, and with a shudder, Rise follows him before the grey expanse swallows him for good.
“I think you’re out of luck, buddy.” Hasegawa grimaces. “I think you’d have to be Fantasticman to see –”
“Quiet.” Akechi interrupts briskly.
Straining her ears, just as the Detective Prince must have earlier, Rise picks up a voice like a ghost in the wind.
“… Shida … h… se…”
Brows wrinkling, for a split second Rise is almost convinced she can see a shape through the gloom, but forgets all about it as the world suddenly twists in an awful, unforgettable way.
…..
Rise is fifteen, and she is falling.
Except she isn’t – she’s twenty, she isn’t even in Inaba, and she’s nowhere near a TV screen.
But she’s falling nonetheless.
Rise lets out an involuntary gasp as she lands bottom-first on solid ground, before groaning and rubbing her rear. Ow. She isn’t the only one moaning – while Akechi rolls to his feet with little but an almost imperceptible grunt, Hasegawa is even louder than she is, letting out a series of muffled curses as he fails to massage his clearly aching back.
All thoughts of pain soon vanish from the singer’s mind, however, as it sinks in where she is.
Fog tainted a putrid yellow clashes with the kitschy, soft green walls, and her heart begins to race.
A long hallway decorated with oddly proportioned photo frames stretches endlessly into the darkness, and ice runs through her veins.
An oh-so-familiar static sensation buzzes against her skin, squeezing the breath from her lungs as Rise grows horribly, horribly numb.
How? She takes a sharp breath in, thoughts spiralling out of control. She didn’t black out, it wasn’t like with Namatame – there was nothing but a whisper in the breeze, then bam.
“Wah…?” Hasegawa blinks owlishly. “But we were… so how are…? Wait, what the heck is this place?”
“I’m… not sure, truthfully.” Akechi rubs his chin, brows furrowed. “Were we attacked, then taken here…? No, that can’t be the case – no form of sedative is that effective…”
“I… I know where we are.” Rise gulps, feeling like she’s swallowing glass. “I’ve been here before.”
Detective and former detective are both silent as Rise draws out her story like blood from a stone – Inaba, the Midnight Channel, Shadows, Personas. The killer they failed to catch, and the friends who scattered because of it.
Unfortunately, Rise is well aware that the truth is a difficult thing to grasp, even when it isn’t complete lunacy.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, time out. Another world? In a TV?” Hasegawa lets out a barking laugh. “Are you nuts? No, no, it’s me – I’m the one that’s nuts.” Hysterical, he sweeps a hand through his hair. “How much did I even have to drink last night?!”
“I assure you, unless your alcohol included delirium is contagious, this is very much real.” Akechi’s expression could only be described as contemplative, and a wave of relief crashes down onto her shoulders. It’s not belief, but thank the lord, he’s at least considering what Rise said.
Soon, his rusty brown eyes flick back her way. “If you truly can summon one of these so-called Persona entities, you can guide us safely to the exit of this place, yes?”
Right. Yes. Himiko. Duh. She could guide them out of this wretched world, and then they could all get on with their lives like nothing happened.
(Unless someone’s chucking people into TVs again, but Rise doesn’t even want to think about that.)
Clapping her cheeks, she takes a deep breath in, stretching out her hand and reaching to the long-neglected place in her heart where her Persona resides.
Nothing happens.
Cold sweat begins to drip down her spine. It’s not that she can’t feel her Persona entirely, no – there’s something there, it’s just well out of her reach. The sound of Rise’s heart beats in her ears like a drum as the world fades away.
Does this… does this mean she’s broken the vow she once made in the Marukyu Striptease?
The answer is obvious. No fucking shit.
Because she’s been running from the truth – that the investigation team failed, and left a killer on the streets – for years.
A savage gargling breaks Rise from her thoughts, and ice crawls through her veins. She doesn’t need Himiko to identify what made that noise. Shadows.
“C-careful!” She cries. “We’ve got company!”
Hasegawa and Akechi whirl around just in time to see two shapes lurch out of the fog-plagued halls. They’re uncannily humanoid, wearing oversized uniforms akin to a cartoonish rendition of a security guard’s, with white masks that look eerily like the faces of old dolls.
“ExHiBiTs oUt of pLaCe!” One gurgles as it waves a blocky wood baton.
“ReTuRn to yOuR rOoMs, oR pUnItIvE aCtIoN wIlL oCcUr!” The other concurs.
Automatically stepping backwards, goosebumps crawl down Rise’s spine. She’s never heard of a shadow, lower case, speaking before. She’s never heard of them attacking people without Personas either, and yet, they continue to advance.
“H-h-h-hold on!” Hasegawa raises his sweaty palms as he intercepts. “We don’t want any…”
Whatever the bodyguard was about to say is cut off as one of the shadows slams its baton into his guts, forcing the air from his lungs as he topples to the ground.
Hands clasping over her mouth, Rise holds back a silent scream as he chokes for air. Because of that, she misses the moment when Akechi’s face twists.
“You… you’ve got to be kidding me. Monsters? Labyrinths? Other worlds?” He chuckles as his shoulders quake. “Don’t make me laugh! I have far too much at stake to let some figments of someone’s twisted imagination drag me off for slaughter! Piss off, and FUCKING DIE ALREADY!”
Rise can do nothing but gawp gormlessly as with an unhinged screech, Akechi suddenly launches himself at the shadows. Oh god. She blinks, horrified, as the Detective Prince’s mask finally drops to reveal someone clearly frothing at the bit to follow the footsteps of Actual Cannibal Shia Lebouf.
“… Bwuh?” Is Hasegawa’s only comment as he forces himself to his feet, only to get a close-up view of Akechi scrambling on fours at alarming speeds before sinking his teeth into the nearest shadow’s neck. It doesn’t work.
“H-Hasegawa-san!” She stammers, desperate to find a bit of sanity in this room. “I think Akechi’s gone feral!”
The bodyguard tilts his head. Akechi is currently jabbing his fingers into the shadow’s eye-holes. It's also not working. “Well, he’s certainly gone something.”
Given how utterly vicious the Detective Not-So-Prince’s assault is, a part of Rise is dead positive he’ll actually be able to manifest enough crazy axe-murderer energy to beat shadows to death with his bare hands, but her illusions are quickly shattered as one of the fake guard grabs the detective's wrist, an awful caterwaul escaping Akechi’s mouth as the shadow crushes it with a sickening crunch.
Almost as if he’s as light as a ragdoll, the guard then tosses him into Hasegawa, knocking the older man down with all the ease of a bowling pin. He lets out a cry, and this time, the bodyguard doesn't get up.
Advancing on the fallen men, the shadows cradle their batons in their hands, and Rise can do nothing but watch.
No. She trembles. Not again.
Are you really going to just stand here like a coward and let them die?
A voice snarls into her ear, and Rise recognises it instantly. Himiko.
This despicable fog has already taken so much away from you – are you just going to stand back and let it claim even more?
Rise’s breath catches in her throat. Mayumi. Saki. Nanako. Namatame. Teddie. The friends she thought she had, a bond severed by the failure looming over all of them.
Like a thread pulled too tightly, something inside her snaps. Gritting her teeth, a wildfire of rage consumes the very fibre of her being, and she doesn’t even notice the bedazzled mask forming over her face. Because Himiko’s right. Every role Rise ever played is an intrinsic part of her soul, including the time she took on the mantle of a hero of justice.
She wants to help people, to stop innocent lives being snuffed out for no reason, and while she might have failed Inaba, she refuses to fail here!
Ripping the mask off her face, the pain she feels as blood flies through the air is eclipsed by the inferno in her heart. “Himiko, return to me!”
And she does. The Persona’s satellite head is the same as ever, but beyond that, she’s unfamiliar. Long red hair flows behind her like a cape, white dress abandoned in favour of a tailcoat and tight leather trousers. The change isn’t at all surprising. After all, she’s not the same Rise that first summoned her either.
It’s not time to shine the spotlight on others, but take centre stage herself.
Stretching her hand forward, barely even processing the neon blue gloves covering her skin, she calls for an unfamiliar spell. “Himiko, frei!”
An azure glow engulfs the first shadow, blasting it to bits. The second then gurgles, limbs contorting until it bursts into black ichor. The sludge rapidly reforms into the shape of a pumpkin with a hat and lantern, and Rise blinks, ice running down her spine.
That’s… that’s one of Yu’s Personas.
The distraction costs her. Letting out an eerie chuckle, the Jack-o'-Lantern lobs an orb of fire at the singer’s way, and a yelp tears from her throat as blistering heat spreads across her body.
“Kujikawa-san!” Hasegawa wheezes, eyes wide in horror from his position on the floor.
Wincing, Rise attempts to brush the embers off herself – yowch, that hurt – only to pause as she finally notices her clothes. She’s not in the same dress she wore to the gala – instead, as she peers down, she sees a glittering black skirt with an electric blue trim, almost as if Rise is some sort of weirdly edgy magical girl.
Then again, she supposes she kind of is some sort of weirdly edgy magical girl.
It's only then that it dawns on Rise with looming dread that she’s gotten distracted, again, but this time, the results aren’t so disastrous.”
“Pithos, Kouha.”
Himiko pings the foreign presence a mere second before a blast of light swallows the Jack-o'-Lantern, reducing it to vapours.
Squinting, Rise peers into the mist – her visibility has improved a lot since reawakening her Persona, but it’s still rather foggy – as a figure emerges. Rise notices unnaturally glowing blue eyes first, immediately setting her on full alert, but then a normal-looking girl in a plain white dress steps out of the gloom, and she feels her shoulders relaxing.
… Until she notices the girl's pigtails are a series of floating, crystalline hearts, that is.
“Hello.” While the strange girl’s affect is oddly flat, she swings her arms almost happily. “I am Sophia, humanity’s companion.”
“Hey, Kujikawa-san!” Hasegawa hisses under his breath, eying their new companion warily as he pushes himself up. “I-is that a person, or a shadow?!”
Rise bites her lips. Sophia’s definitely not a shadow - either kind of one - but even if it wasn’t for her physics-defying hair, there’s something odd about her energy signature. It’s not like Teddie’s, which always felt a bit dark even after he got a Persona. No, if anything, it feels oddly… sterile.
“I’m… not sure.” She concludes, frowning. Still, non-human, non-shadow entities in the TV world have generally been friendly, so Sophia probably isn’t a threat. “She’s probably harmless, though.”
Clearly having heard the latter end of their conversation, Sophia nods with a hum. “My prime directive is to assist humanity!” Her expression then shifts as she notices Akechi. “Oh! You are hurt. Let me aid you.”
While he’s back on his feet again, the detective's face is contorted in pain, and he holds his fractured wrist to his chest gingerly.
“What? Hell no!” Scrambling back out of her range, Akechi glowers at Sophia. “Do you seriously think I’m going to let some unknown creature use magic on me after that last encounter? No thanks. I have at least some self-preservation instincts.”
“Do you?” Hasegawa asks automatically, earning a glare from the Detective Prince that would have instantly made his fangirls burst into horrified tears. “Anyway, what the heck was all that screaming about bloody murder about anyway?”
“That’s none of your business.” Somehow, Akechi's glare gets even worse.
Rise winces. “Honestly, Akechi-kun, I’d let her if I were you. It’s way better healing scrapes in this world than out there, trust me.”
“Oh, I trust you, Kujikawa-san.” He then nods towards Sophia. “It’s her I take chagrin with. The only thing I noticed before we were dragged to this hellhole was a woman’s voice.” His eyes narrow. “For all we know, she’s the one who brought us here.”
“… Fuck it, I suppose this is what my life is now.” With a sigh, Hasegawa turns towards Sophia, voice far less accusatory than the detective’s. “Did you bring us here, Sophia?”
“No!” Rapidly shaking her head, the girl’s face twists in dismay. “I would not bring humans with no Persona into the Metaverse. That would be highly unsafe.”
“Metaverse?” Rise blinks. She supposes that must be the name of this place – TV dungeon only works if there’s a TV, after all. Still, if Sophia can technically bring people into this place. “… Say, Sophia-chan, could you help us return to the real world? It’d be really handy!”
The girl lights up like a lightbulb. “Yes. I am humanity’s companion – being handy is my purpose! Please, follow me.”
…..
The dungeon – or Palace, apparently – is a breeze. Even though Rise can only lob magic so basic that the investigation team had stopped using it for ages by the time she joined them, between her and Sophia, most shadows drop before they can return fire.
What’s more unsettling than the fights are their surroundings. It turns out, they’re in a weirdly oversized dollhouse, a fact Rise discovered when she almost walked straight into a childish effigy of Alice posed in a fake kitchen. The mannequin would have been cute, if it hadn’t been taller than Rise.
Thankfully, she’s easily distracted from how creepy this place is by the group’s constant chatter. Or, more specifically, Akechi grilling both her and Sophia in equal measure. While some of the questions he asks about Shadows and Personas are slightly unsettling – no, actually, Rise does not think interrogating one would get you any useful information at all – the ones he asks about the nature of this place are far more interesting. Sophia, despite the amnesia the strange girl claims to have, is a pool of knowledge about the other world. Metaverse, Palaces, cognitions, distortions – while Rise definitely feels a twinge of guilt at the admission, she’s way more informative than Teddie. Heck, Rise didn’t even know half of this stuff.
It’s what their guide says about distortions that really lingers with Rise, however. As they wind through the hallways, she purses her lips, happy to get lost in thought considering the lack of any threats on Himiko’s radar.
… Someone out there views the hotel as a dollhouse, and its guests as props. Its guests, that include Rise herself. The singer shudders – ew.
Almost on cue, the Palace shudders too. Her eyes widen, musings washed away by a tidal wave of fear as the ground suddenly lurches beneath them. Landing on the floor with a thump, she freezes as dust falls from the ceiling, the fog growing thicker by the second as the dollhouse walls begin to fracture.
“An earthquake?!” Hasegawa wails, staggering. “Seriously?”
“No, this is no earthquake.” Sophia’s brows are furrowed. “The Palace is –”
Whatever she’s about to say is cut off as with a sickening crack, the ceiling caves in. With a scream, Rise shields her head with her arms despite goddamn knowing it’ll do nothing against the several tons of masonry crashing down on them –
But then suddenly she’s falling, and lands on the ground with an oof.
Heart racing, Rise leaps upright, only to freeze. She’s back in the alley again, in her normal outfit too.
Not half a second later, both Hasegawa and Akechi come crashing down alongside her.
“Error.” A familiar voice cries from Akechi’s direction. “The distortion has collapsed. Please properly prepare your exit route before beginning the deletion process.”
“Ack, what the hell?” Lips curling, he whips his phone out of his pocket, soon staring at his screen with a look of dismay. “… Get off my phone! What the hell are you, malware?!”
“I am not malware.” Getting a closer look at the device, Rise spots a virtual avatar of Sophia shaking her head. “I am an AI.”
Rise slowly blinks. Wait, that’s what Sophia is? Something inside her mind bricks like an old machine – the singer has way too many questions, and absolutely zero capacity for any answers. She’s just gonna let this one lie.
… For now, anyway.
“… Fine, whatever.” Akechi pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can’t you haunt Kujikawa-san’s phone instead? I think she’d appreciate your presence far more than I.”
“That is untrue.” Sophia shakes her head. “You had 67% more queries than Kujikawa-san did. Downloading onto your device was the most logical conclusion.”
“Sorry, Akechi-kun.” Hasegawa pats his shoulders none too repentantly. “But it looks like this is a burden you’re just gonna have to bear. Anyway, let’s get the heck out of this place. I don’t know about you lot, but I don’t wanna get tossed back into that nightmare.”
Almost as soon as they’re back inside, Akechi’s demeanour shifts. The sharpness in his eyes instantly dulls, disgruntled frown replaced by a gentle grin, and Rise can’t help but shiver. The good boy act is perfect, and that only makes it creepier.
“God, that’s so weird.” Hasegawa whispers in her ear as he eyeballs the detective.
“I know, right?!” Rise hisses.
“You are aware I can hear you, yes?” Akechi laughs. “Say, Sophia-san, apologies for the constant queries, however, I was wondering –”
Before he can finish speaking, however, Rise’s stomach suddenly lets out an awful groan before twisting itself into a pretzel. Stumbling, the only reason she doesn’t facepalm into the floor is because Hasegawa catches her first.
“… Food.” She whines. “Need food… now.”
“Awakening is an exhausting process.” Sophia chimes. “Water and carbohydrates should lessen the strain.”
“… Fine.” Akechi sighs. “I believe there should be canapes further inside.”
Luckily, as they walk into the main hall, everyone’s attention is far too focused on Alice as the idol belts out a tune on a makeshift stage. Far too much attention to notice Rise half-catatonic in her bodyguard’s arms, anyway. Hasegawa settles her down at a table at the far end of the hall – both out of sight and actually quiet enough to have a conversation – while Akechi flags the waitstaff. Thankfully, Sophia’s right – Rise feels a lot more human after getting some actual food in her.
“Sorry for interrupting you, Akechi-kun.” She gives him a weak smile after devouring a frightful amount of sushi.
“Oh, it’s not a bother, Kujikawa-san.” He waves her off, though it’s impossible to tell how sincere he is. Seriously, screw the detective work – he should become an actor. “I have two main questions for you, Sophia-san. Firstly, whose Palace was it?”
“The distortion: hotel-vanity-dollhouse, belonged to…”
An ear-piercing scream slices through the hotel air like a knife. Alice fumbles the microphone, a static buzz following it as the band’s harmony breaks into discord, and Rise’s head snaps towards the source of the commotion
It’s Ishida. The woman staggers, black liquid as dark as midnight oil leaking from her every orifice, before collapsing into a heap. Rising to her feet, the bottom of Rise’s stomach hollows out with a swooping sensation as her throat constricts. She loses sight of the body almost instantly – people swarm to the coordinator like sharks to the slaughter, a man that might be Inoue yelling for a paramedic - but Rise already knows it’s far too late.
“… Ishida Misao.” Sophia concludes, a grim statement that brings bile rising up the back of Rise’s throat.
“…. I see.” Akechi takes a sharp breath in, a thousand calculations running behind his eyes. “… Next question. If you… say, killed someone’s Shadow, it would both destroy their Palace and have a calamitous effect on their real self, yes?”
Rise inhales, her full attention snapping towards the detective. It’s so obvious, now that he’s said it out loud.
“Mhm!” The AI hums affirmatively. “A Shadow is a person’s desires. Destroying it would mean their desires no longer exist. But… humanity needs desire to function. With no desire, a human will just waste away…”
“It’s happening again.” Rise swallows. “Someone is using the Metaverse for murder, again.”
“And it seems their methods have grown more sophisticated, too.” Akechi murmurs, rubbing his chin.
Looking up, Rise meets her companions’ eyes, spirits soaring despite her lingering dread as she sees her own determination reflected in each of their eyes.
Someone’s using the Metaverse for murder again.
… and this time, Rise is going to stop them.
…..
As she watches the ragtag group from the barn’s rafters, Haru sips some tea directly from her thermos. It’s awfully common of her, but quite frankly, after the company she’s exposed to at times, it feels rather nice acting like an actual human being as opposed to a parody of one. And tea from a thermos is an awfully human thing.
A frown crosses her face. On the topic of humans, it seems she’s run into a conundrum. She’d first noticed Kujikawa’s little group after they started sniffing around following that incident in the hotel, but until now, they’d been a harmless pest. A problem for another person’s garden. Now, however, they’ve stumbled into a Palace that might actually cause her father some issues if they beat the truth out of the Shadow.
It's such a pity. Given the rumours about Phantom Thieves, changes of heart, and mysterious illnesses plaguing the news as of late, her father has been rather tetchy. Haru knows in the bottom of her heart that he’ll order her to eliminate these new Metaverse interlopers before they cause any problems – he’s not usually prone to paranoia, but alas, Kujikawa’s timing really is quite dreadful.
Sipping her tea, Haru mulls over her options. Giving the Palace Ruler a mental shutdown would be far too suspicious – it’d flag to the idol that the murderer they’re chasing is onto them. Still, Haru has far subtler arts at her disposal, or worst comes to worst, her father could hopefully arrange an accident.
A wave of bitterness strikes her. Perhaps fail to arrange an accident is more accurate. Looking back down at Kujikawa - the singer letting out a cheer as her gunslinging companion down a shadow with her bullets - Haru’s stomach twists in envy. They’re alike, in a way – both women shoved into the spotlight at a precarious age by their families, forced to curate their demeanour and bodies and even their hobbies to cater to the public’s incessant demands. And yet, while every little concession tears away at Haru’s soul, Kujikawa seems to relish both of her selves – she flourishes as Risette, yet is equally pleased stepping out of the limelight and simply being Rise.
Plus, Haru is a killer, while Kujikawa is the hero plunging herself into danger with a band of friends at her side in order to hunt her down.
It’s such a pity Haru will have to kill her one day - it always breaks her heart watching such beautiful souls wither and die. Alas, earning her father’s love is simply too important, and sometimes, to create a truly beautiful garden, one must cut some stems.
Stepping backwards, Haru retreats back into the fog.