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2011.12.22 (Cycle 2)
They left the body behind.
They'll find him tomorrow morning. Hanging upside-down over a satellite dish on some unlucky stranger's roof, covered in a fine dusting of frost. Fresh out of hospital, Dojima'll be forced to do the ID – a stiff nod, jaw tensed razor sharp – while the team watches from behind yellow tape, surrounded by ghoulish spectators. Teddie and Rise will both be sobbing, Chie'll be halfway there, it'll take Yukiko everything she has to talk Kanji down from beating the crap out of a local TV news crew, and Naoto'll just stand rigid and silent. And before all that, Yosuke will spend hours after midnight crouched in a dry shower cubicle, his eyes throbbing from being pressed so hard against his kneecaps.
He knows all this, deep in his bones. The problem is that he isn't sure how. Behind the sick numbness, the bile in his throat, the feeling like someone's sliced him open and scooped out everything inside, lies a creeping, nagging sense of repetition. Rewind, replay. The sounds of Junes – the tinny store announcements, the murmur of customers, the crappy music they play over the PA system – blend into white noise as he stares at the blank television screen, half-expecting Souji to come through.
Kanji's hand lands heavy and trembling on his shoulder. "We gotta go, Senpai."
I can't, Yosuke wants to say, I can't leave him in there again I can't just let him—
"Yeah." His voice sounds hoarse and hollow. "I know."
2011.12.18 (Cycle 1)
"You think we can actually beat him?"
Souji's voice sounds...different. Drowsy and drained, but brittle at the edges. If they weren't sitting alone in his room in the Dojimas' otherwise empty house, Yosuke might've taken it for a stranger's. Yosuke should be exhausted too, running on two hours of sleep with twice as many just spent inside the TV, but around Souji he can't help but feel keyed up. It's a weird, good-bad feeling that curls hot and cold deep in his stomach. After months spent telling himself this is a totally one hundred percent normal way to feel around your best friend, he's even less convinced now than when he started.
He forces a smile. Souji's staring at the wall, so he probably doesn't notice, but maybe it comes through in Yosuke's voice. "Yeah, of course. We managed everything else, right?"
Souji just keeps going, like Yosuke hasn't spoken. "I'm not sure we can even reach him. We weren't ready for this."
"Trust me, it's gonna be fine. We'll make it," Yosuke insists, forcing all the conviction he can. Sure, it's taking them forever to crawl just a short way into Adachi's twisted, maze-like Inaba, but that's fine, they have until the end of the year. They've got time.
He leans back against the front of the sofa. The edge digs into his back and the floor's too hard to be comfortable, but Souji's beside him, so.
After several long moments, Souji finally turns his head. "…Did you want to stay over tonight? I can set up the spare futon."
There's something tight in his voice that makes Yosuke desperately want to say yes – but sleeping next to Souji would give something away, something he still can't name and doesn't want to admit. Something he'd rip right out of himself, if he could. "Nah, I can't. I skipped out on work today, so I have to go home and get yelled at by my dad about responsible employees."
"You can blame me," Souji says, with a smile that looks and sounds just as forced as Yosuke's. "But Ted's probably finished his shift now anyway. Better get back before he starts pulling more magazines out from under your dresser."
Nothing's really funny now, but Yosuke chuckles all the same. "Should've found a better hiding place by now, right?"
"I keep telling you, just use the internet like everyone else." Souji rolls his shoulders and stands. "We've got a tough few days ahead of us. Go home and get some sleep."
"Yeah. Good plan," Yosuke says. He wishes there was something else he could say, something that might stretch out the moment a little longer – but there isn't, so he gets up and grabs his bag from the floor by Souji's desk. "See you tomorrow, partner."
2011.12.23 (Cycle 6)
Curled on her futon in the dark, waiting for the world to turn inside out, Naoto strategizes.
Each fight has been thoroughly dissected, instant by instant. They should be able to correct this. They have the tools, the knowledge, the opportunity. She'd calculate the probabilities involved but her mind is distracted by the hiss of empty static, the dull aches from another losing battle, the overlapping memories of sounds and voices. Rise sobs, sirens wail, the television blares another victim found, and Yosuke insists over and over that they have to go back, they'll fix it next time.
Over and over and over. Neither of them fully remembered during what she assumes was their first repetition, but by the second (third, fourth, fifth) the pattern began to take. A familiar groove and the needle always slips back into place. Naoto closes her eyes and tries to believe that Yosuke isn't hopelessly optimistic; that when she wakes up one week ago and they live the battles through once more, they will finally get it right. But history repeats, snakes through the days and swallows its own tail, and the point of inversion is always the same: Souji's body, dangling high among the rooftops.
...Except perhaps it doesn't have to be Souji at all.
Naoto closes her eyes, and waits.
2011.12.22 (Cycle 3)
One spell. That's all it took.
Souji was doubled-over, almost cowering under the fear magic. Yosuke remembers calling out to him again and again, trying to reassure him, it's gonna be fine partner, but he never seemed to hear. Then Magatsu Izanagi raised his spear and let out a piercing, searing wail. All over. It's the absolute last thing Yosuke wants to remember, but the image is burned into his brain. He leans back against the wall outside Junes and rubs a hand over his face, as if it'll make him wake up and everything'll be fine and Souji will still be here.
…And it feels like that might just happen. Like they've done this already. Yosuke blinks and shakes his head; there's fog inside there too, thick as the murky yellow-green swallowing Inaba whole. It's creeping through his whole body, coiling in his stomach. He's been on the verge of throwing up ever since he ran and left—
Left Souji behind. And they can't tell anyone what happened. Not Dojima, not his parents, not anyone. Yosuke knows he should be worrying about taking down Adachi too, but right now the thought's a vague shadow in the fog. Ted refused to leave the TV tonight, and it's hard to care about that either.
He hears footsteps approaching, and when he looks up Naoto's standing in front of him. Kanji smashed his fist into the wall then stormed off, the girls are still huddled and crying by the main doors, and Yosuke's own eyes are stinging – but Naoto just looks empty.
"We need to talk," she says quietly.
Which they've never really done except when he's deliberately pissing her off. Naoto's a good guy, but she's got a dozen buttons you can push and Yosuke can never resist temptation. It's a lousy combination. Souji sometimes tells him off for it, but always in a way that seems like he doesn't really mean it.
…Not sometimes. Used to.
"Later," Yosuke mumbles. "I-I can't—"
"We've been here before," she cuts in, a quiver at the edge of her voice. "And I believe we will be here again."
She's making no sense. Torn up over Souji. But the denial never leaves Yosuke's lips, because he makes the mistake of stopping to think, what if she's right. There's the déjà vu he's been feeling all week, the same movie on repeat, never stronger than the moment he watched Souji get this fuzzed-out look in his eyes then fall forward.
What if it doesn't need to happen?
He lifts his head. "Just…tell me what's happening."
2011-12-16 (Cycle 5)
By now, Yosuke knows the days inside out. He knows that today Rise will 'accidentally' set off the fire alarm at school, that Souji'll feed him a right answer in math class, that they'll head inside the TV in the afternoon and struggle to beat the first few Shadows in Adachi's world. What he doesn't expect when he wakes up all over again is the blonde woman in blue standing by the door to his room. He's never met her, but he figures there aren't many people in Inaba who'd fit the description Naoto gave him last time round.
"I warned you both," the woman says, evenly.
He swallows hard. "…I had to try, okay?"
"As I expected." Her expression doesn't shift – neutral, almost blank – and she draws a finger over the thick bound book in her arms. "But you cannot inform him of what will transpire. Or—"
"Yeah, I know. Everything goes backward again." He remembers that much: Souji, pale and drawn and about to speak, then the entire world twisting, inverting. Yosuke sits up and hugs the sheets close to his chest. "But why?"
Her voice turns softer. "I don't know. There are many things I don't understand about this. In truth, I should neither be conversing with you nor have left the Room at all."
She shouldn't be here, either. Yosuke briefly wonders exactly how much shit he'd be in if his dad was to walk through the door. There are way too many questions: how she got inside his room, how she knows about the loops, how she knows any of them to start with.
"Who are you?" he asks.
Her fingers tighten around the book. "A friend of Souji," she tells him. "And I will do what I can to help."
2011-12-21 (Cycle 7)
The snow's falling in thick flakes that spiral slowly down through the fog, seeping through sickly yellow-green grime then settling in drifts against the walls of the hospital building. Yosuke can't bring himself to think about touching it, hates the sensation of the flakes melting wet in his hair.
He fiddles around with his phone – more messages from Chie, three variations on is Souji still sane – until Souji finally trudges through the sliding glass doors of the hospital lobby. Each visit with Nanako seems to drain everything out of him, like the bottom sliced off a paper cup. Yosuke's starting to worry that even if they fix this loop, the tired and fractured Souji of this week will be the one he remembers most. It's kind of flattering that Souji's willing to drop his guard around Yosuke like this, but it hurts more than he would've thought possible, especially knowing there's nothing he can do to fix any of it. Hell, he can't even solve the loops. Some aibou.
"Hey. You could've waited in the lobby," Souji says – half a smile, not quite reaching his eyes. "Thought you didn't like the cold?"
"Just needed to clear my head."
He glances at the phone in Yosuke's hand. "And text Chie, I'm guessing. She worries too much."
"Yeah. But we all do."
"You shouldn't. I have to–" Souji pauses, a troubled frown creasing his forehead. "We need everyone focused, on top form."
They've had this conversation so many times, Yosuke knows it chapter and verse. That's half the problem, now; he knows what to expect, feels so utterly numb about everything except the moment Souji—
He shakes his head. It happened again last cycle, even with the sedative Naoto bought to cure the Fear spell. The shriek did nothing; this time, it was the Mudoon that immediately followed. Souji should've been able to dodge it, but Adachi's magic is scarily powerful, like his entire world is tilted against them. He said something like that right before they fought him and he'll say it all over again – and again once more, if Yosuke and Naoto can't figure out how to stop this. By now Yosuke's not even sure that saving Souji will fix the loop, but it's still the only thing in the world he can think about.
If he's honest for one second, Souji's all he ever thinks about.
"Souji. I – you're–" But he didn't say this in the other cycles and he's not sure where the words are going. Everything's been bottled up inside him for months, jumbled and shaken. He stops, swallows, tries again. "You're important, you know? And if you ever—" And this time he stops for good, because it's all pointless when Souji won't remember, never remembers, is going to die tomorrow and be left behind.
It's a weird thing to even start to say. For one long, wrenching moment, Souji just stares. Then his smile turns a little sheepish. "Uh, thanks. I mean it," he adds a beat later.
"Yeah. I do too." Another silence stretching out between them, until Yosuke finally cracks. "I can stay at your place. Tonight. I've – I've gotta go back and help close up, but after that."
He shouldn't have offered. He hasn't slept properly since all this started, so he'll just spend the whole night lying awake next to Souji and trying not to think – but Souji's already nodding. "That'd be great," he says, with a casualness that doesn't ring true. "Let me call Chie first and keep her from worrying all night." Then he walks a few meters away and takes out his phone.
They left Naoto in the hospital lobby, talking quietly with Kanji – what's been going on there, Yosuke has no idea – but now she's walking through the glass doors too, out into the snow and fog. She pulls her gloves from her coat pocket and slips them on as she walks over to Yosuke.
"Hey," he says, tugging his coat around him against the cold. "I-I'm staying with Souji tonight."
"You didn't do that last time," she says.
"Yeah. I know." Then he quickly adds, "I don't think it'll change anything."
Raising the obvious, horrible question then why do it, but Naoto's polite enough not to ask. "I – think I know what might," she says instead, stiff and hesitant. Then she dips her cap and turns to walk away, all in one smooth motion. Yosuke wants to ask what she means – but it's already nine, his dad'll be calling soon to find out why he isn't closing, and he lets the question slide.
2011-12-18 (Cycle 6)
They're deep inside Magatsu Inaba. Souji has effectively benched Naoto, Kanji and Teddie by asking them to remain with Rise in a dark, hollowed out replica of Daidara's shop. The idea is that this will protect them from Shadows. Naoto has been here before enough times to know that it will not work.
The Gigas Shadows will attack them shortly. This, she expects. She's also expecting the usual stream of slightly endearing nonsense from Teddie, this time directed at Kanji, and Kanji's gruff and muttered threats to roll Ted out into the street if he doesn't quit jabbering. What she doesn't expect is for Kanji to ignore Teddie and walk over to her instead, hands shoved in his pockets, gaze never quite meeting her own.
"Hey." He uses his sleeve to wipe off a spot on the shop counter, then sits down beside her. As usual he stays far enough away for her to feel comfortable, something she has come to appreciate while lacking any way to express it.
It would be so much better, though, if he didn't seem so afraid of her.
She nods. "Kanji-kun."
"You've been quiet," he says. "I mean, more'n usual. Not like you're loud or anything," he adds, hastily, before his brow furrows slightly. "Everything alright?"
Naoto knows Kanji's reaction to Souji's death. The way he seems to fold in on himself in the studio lot, sheer despair in his eyes; the blood on his knuckles outside Junes, matching that on the solid brick wall. The memory makes her stomach lurch.
I don't want you to go through that again, she thinks.
"I'm fine," she says. "Thank you for the concern."
"No worries." He shifts against the counter, rolls his shoulders. "I ain't feeling great either. I keep—" But he stops short and shakes his head.
"Keep what?"
He lets out a laugh with no trace of humour; more a rough breath of air. "Shit, this is gonna sound stupid. I keep feeling like stuff's happened before, y'know? Déjà-vu or whatever. S'weird."
Naoto tilts back her head. The wooden roof above them is split open, and the sky above is a swirling mess of red and black.
The woman in blue has explained the golden rule: do not inform the others. Yosuke's actions proved its veracity. "…I doubt it means anything."
At the edge of her vision, she sees Kanji turn his head toward her, then look away. "Yeah. Probably fussing about nothing. Gotta concentrate on finding that bastard, right?"
She should feel a glimmer of hope knowing that Kanji is beginning to notice the repetition. Instead there's an ache gaping deep inside her chest, one that threatens to open up wider and wider until it swallows her whole. "Yes. We do."
He nods, seemingly satisfied. Naoto keeps her eyes on the open door, waiting for the Shadows to appear.
2011-12-22 (Cycle 5)
They tried. They all covered Yukiko while she tried to bring Souji back, over and over, only giving up when both Kanji and Chie took hits so bad they couldn't stand. Ted had barely enough time to heal them before Adachi's Izanagi twirled its spear, electricity crackling over the surface – and they just ran.
Yosuke's lungs are burning, his stomach is churning, and he can feel his chest clench in on itself – like he'd be crying, if he wasn't running for his life through the twisted streets of Magatsu Inaba. The others are gasping and grunting behind him as they all sprint away from Adachi and back toward the portal. He's first to reach it, and one-by-one they spill back into Mayumi Yamano's grimy, single-roomed world. He staggers toward a dark corner and leans forward, gasping in deep shaky breaths with his hands pressed against the wall. He'd throw up if he could, but he's barely eaten in the past two days and the sick, sour feeling in the back of his throat remains.
It's such a stupid, stupid way to die.
He closes his eyes and forces himself to think through what happened. Adachi used fear magic. Yosuke heard it too, an eerie and cold whisper in his ear, but only Souji was affected. Then Magatsu Izanagi let out that terrible screech, and only Souji fell. Meaning the fear spell has something to do with it?
Man, Naoto would be proud of him. Deductions, all that stuff. Though she probably figured it out way earlier and if he goes over to her and explains his theory, she'll just give him that Yosuke-senpai, you're an idiot look. The thought cracks him up, though it isn't even really funny, and he can't help a rough bark of a laugh that nobody's near enough to hear, a fact he's grateful for when it turns into a sob.
2011-12-22 (Cycle 7)
Magatsu Izanagi dives, spear angled forward. The tip misses Yosuke by centimeters but he's evoking even as he leaps sideways, and Susano-O hurls out a swirling, twisting Garudyne. Metres away, Souji is on his knees and shaking, hands pressed against his scalp, sword discarded at his side. The most dangerous aspect of fear magic: being lost in a nightmare, blind to one's surroundings.
Naoto stands firm against a searing lightning strike with her teeth clenched tight. The moment it passes, she fumbles through her pockets and pulls out the Sedative she purchased at the Shiroku store. A burst of fire sears overhead – Amaterasu, golden wings aflame – as she runs over to Souji, pulls back his head, and tips the liquid down his throat – a split-second before Magatasu Izanagi arches and voices its unearthly wail.
He blinks up at her, eyes grey and wide and alive. "N-Naoto?"
All of this happened last cycle and Souji's death still occurred. Naoto knows what she needs to change.
Magatsu Izanagi lunges forward, one hand raised, and hurls down a Mudoon. Rather than instinctively leaping away, she curls herself over Souji, trying to shield him as much as possible; holding her breath and watching the air turn black and purple around her.
It's a risk. Sukuna-Hikona is taking the brunt of the spell and he isn't fully immune to darkness. At the back of her mind he buzzes frantically, high pitched over the low throb of magic – yet the spell passes, and her vision rapidly clears.
She's done it. Souji's on all fours but still breathing, and if she helps him up then they can—
Something grabs her, wrenching her arm behind her. Warm breath ghosts on her neck, and hard metal presses against her back.
"Nice try, bitch," Adachi hisses in her ear. "Let's see who's smarter now."
Naoto never feels him pull the trigger.
2011-12-22 (Cycle 7)
There's deep red blood pooled on the ground around – the body, because that's all it is now, right? Amaterasu's at Yukiko's back, Kamui at Teddie's, and nothing's working. Tears are rolling down Rise's cheeks – I can't hear him, she's saying, I can't hear Sukuna Hikona – while Chie hugs her tight. Souji just stares, expression terrifyingly blank. Adachi's limp on the floor a few meters away, barely conscious.
And Kanji – Kanji's half-turned to the side, fists clenched, entire body wire-taut.
"We can't carry the body back through Junes," Yosuke says, all in a rush, because it's the same thing he had to say with Souji. "We'll leave it here and—"
"No." Kanji doesn't look at him.
Yosuke glances at Souji, expecting backup – but when Souji lifts his head and opens his mouth to speak, he can't seem to say anything.
"I ain't leaving her," Kanji continues. He steps toward the body, crouches down, touches a shaky hand gently to its jaw.
Yosuke swallows. He left Souji. It was the hardest thing he's ever done, and he had to do it over and over. "Y-You have to. It'll – show up tomorrow."
"Her Shadow," Kanji says, voice unnervingly quiet. "It said she didn't wanna be alone. So."
"Dude. You can't." He steps forward and grips Kanji's shoulder. "We – we've gotta go, Kanji. C'mon, let's—"
Quick as he is, he still doesn't have time to react before Kanji springs to his feet and punches him in the face.
He feels his nose crack and the first trickle of blood over his lips. It hurts, just like it hurts that Naoto's gone, but losing Souji again would've been a hundred times worse. The realization hits Yosuke with a sick rush of guilt. He thinks Kanji might be about to hit him again, wonders whether he deserves it, when Souji finally speaks up. "Kanji."
Kanji stops. He's as rigid as a statue. "Senpai."
And Souji doesn't say anything else; just looks at Yosuke, nods toward Adachi's crumpled form, then clasps one hand on Kanji's back and leads him away.
2011-12-24 (???)
Unsurprisingly, it's by far the worst Christmas Eve Yosuke's ever had. It's also the first one he hasn't spent alone.
"I thought about asking Ted and Kanji too. Before all this," Souji says. But Ted's still hiding inside the television, and Kanji – Yosuke has no idea what Kanji's doing.
He leans forward over the low table in Souji's room and rests his chin on his folded arms. The fog was gone by the time the team staggered out of Junes, but he swears he can still feel it pressed up behind the blinds against the window pane. Everything feels fogged up, now – distant and numb and unreal. "Guess it's just us. Sucks for you, spending Christmas Eve like this." He forces a laugh. "Probably had tons of other options, right?"
Part of him's hoping Souji will deny it. He doesn't. "It didn't seem right," he says instead, staring down at the table's scuffed surface.
Who might it have been, Yosuke wonders. Rise, maybe. She's practically glued to her Senpai's side. Or Yukiko, because who wouldn't? Even critical-hit-landing Chie's got her charms. And Naoto—
Naoto's gone. But Souji isn't. Maybe that's what it took. Yosuke spent most of last night watching the clock and waiting for the world to unravel, and still can't believe it didn't. The horrifying part is that he's kind of okay with that. It's on a level he desperately doesn't want to admit, because it's about the shittiest thing he could ever feel when Naoto was his friend; the kind of thought you'd only hear from someone seriously twisted. He's twisted, fucked up, more than he ever guessed possible – and none of the self-recrimination makes a difference. Looking at Souji beside him, Yosuke realizes that over the past eight months, he's had time enough to learn that fixing your feelings is impossible. The television's quietly chattering in the background, some dumb kung-fu flick he borrowed from Chie ages ago and forgot to return, and he lets himself be lulled by the sound.
It seems like hours pass before Souji finally speaks – and when he does, Yosuke wishes he hadn't. "The police say they won't release Naoto's body until her grandfather arrives to do a formal identification. I asked one of the senior detectives, a guy my uncle knows"
"...Yeah. I guess they'd want to wait."
"I don't. Yosuke, I—" Souji starts, then stops. "…What happened with Naoto. I'm going to – ask a favour of someone. Ask them to send me back to fix it."
"You can't," Yosuke blurts, the entire bottom dropping out of his stomach.
"I can. I know it sounds crazy, but I…" Souji trails off. He's trying to keep his expression level, but Yosuke knows better. "I can't explain all the details, but I can do it, I've done it before." A slight, sad smile. "You won't remember any of this."
"Souji, c'mon. Just—" But Yosuke has no idea what he's going to ask, that's the problem. Let your friend die?
Or more specifically, let her die instead of you. Even assuming asking Souji that wouldn't send everything spiraling backward, the answer would always be no. He takes everything on his shoulders, wanting to fix it, to the point where both he and his friends forget he's a kid just like the rest of them. They're all just kids and none of this is fair. Not on Naoto, not on Souji.
"Things went wrong," Souji says. "We lost Naoto. But it'll be fine next time, I promise."
"No, it won't. You – I don't want you to do that. Please, please don't do that."
He frowns. "Why?"
Yosuke has no words for an answer. He leans in instead, fumbles a grab for Souji's right shoulder, and kisses him.
It's sudden – seriously, he almost misses – and short, mostly because Souji jerks back with what Yosuke at first takes for revulsion because it's the only thing it could be. Then he catches the look of realization in Souji's eyes.
"S-Sorry," Yosuke stammers.
"…No, I – I'm sorry," Souji says. "I-I didn't think—you—" He stops, draws a deep breath, and manages another small, pained smile. "You...just surprised me." He stands suddenly, stumbling a little against the table. "I – I have to go now. I have to put things right."
We already did, Yosuke wants to say. Instead – because he knows they didn't, knows he can't stop this, should've known that the moment the gunshot rang out – he stands and says, "L-Let me come with you."
Souji hesitates, not looking at him, then shakes his head. "You can't go backwards. You'd just be stuck standing outside the Room. There wouldn't be any point."
"Does that matter?"
He lifts his head and finally meets Yosuke's eyes. "…No. It doesn't." Then he nods toward the door. "Let's go."
2011-12-22 (Cycle 8)
The funny, stupid thing is that Yosuke must've passed by the guy dozens of times. He's usually only ever there on rainy days. Souji's the one who pointed out how weird it is to only stand out on the forecourt when it's raining. Other than that one habit, why would the woman in blue – Margaret, she eventually said – think this guy is so important? He's watching them as they approach, a quirk of a smile barely visible beneath the brim of his baseball cap. Like he could see them coming through the fog.
"Welcome to Moel," he says. "How can I help you?"
"We – uh..." Yosuke glances at Margaret. Her expression is perfectly blank, carved from marble. "We...just wanted to ask—" But what the hell do they want to ask? Hey, can you help our friend not die? The guy's a gas station attendant, stuck pumping petrol in a backwater town. Yosuke looks at Margaret one more time then shakes his head. "Ah...I dunno. Sorry to bother you."
"No worries." The attendant's voice is strange too. A little – fake? "Have a great day, now."
As he turns away, Margaret finally speaks. "I know who you are."
2011-12-16 (Cycle 8)
Naoto understands now. She simply needs to shield Souji from the Mudoon. They have no homunculi left to use, but Sukuna-Hikona's natural defences should suffice. The possibility that they might not is not one she wishes to entertain – but by this stage, she lacks other options.
The fog hangs low and heavy over the shopping district. She hadn't planned on coming here; it isn't what she did in the other cycles. Nor was skipping school, but she needed to think. Something cold twists in her stomach every time she recalls the events of the last cycle, yet she knows what happened: Souji died in a swirling black Mudoon.
Didn't he?
There's another memory. Something against her back. Someone behind her, and then they—
"Yo, Naoto."
Glancing up, she realizes she's walked as far as Tatsumi Textiles. Kanji is sitting on the front steps, long legs bent at the knees, and he stands as she approaches. "Hey. Didn't see you at school today," he says.
"I – wasn't well."
He eyes her carefully. "Huh. You up for tonight?"
"Of course," Naoto shoots back, a little sharper than she intends. "I would never compromise the team's safety."
Kanji's brow furrows. "I didn't – look, I wasn't worried or anything. I just—" He stops and shakes his head. "I dunno. When you didn't show, I thought maybe – somethin' bad had happened."
Naoto feels her heart lurch against her ribs, and the same icy tendrils spiral in her gut. "...Why?"
He shrugs. "Dunno. I mean, it didn't, right?"
"I-I don't know. Maybe." She takes a deep breath. "I think I dreamt something, but I can't..."
"Yeah," Kanji says, voice tight. "Me too."
Probably dreams of the repetitions, in his case. There is, Naoto tells herself, no way they'd share the same dream.
"So. Just wanted to check you were doing okay." He rubs the back of his neck, then tips his head toward the shop door. "Listen – you, uh, wanna...I-I mean, the fog's pretty bad out here and—"
They've spent more time with each other more lately, increasingly so over each cycle, but this is the first time since their initial meeting that – fumbled as it is – he's actually asked to do so. Something in Naoto desperately wants to say yes – but before he can finish, she catches movement in her peripheral vision. A flash of blue in the fog.
"Excuse me," she cuts in. "I have to go." And she races back down the street toward Aiya.
As she runs, she still catches glimpses of blue, so quick she wonders if she's imagined them. It isn't until she reaches Daidara's that she finally sees the blonde woman standing nearby. Naoto remembers the first time she met her – or rather, that the woman in blue found her. It was in this same place, though not the same time, three – or four? – cycles back. "You've returned."
The woman nods; tall, elegant, perfectly poised. "Hello, Naoto Shirogane."
"I still don't know your name."
"You don't need to."
"This is our seventh cycle," Naoto says, and notes the quirk in the woman's lips on 'seventh'. "More than enough."
There's a drawn-out pause before the woman's expression flickers, too quick for Naoto to name. "Yes. It is." Another, shorter pause. "Ask your questions as you wish."
At least a dozen race through her mind, but Naoto puts her investigative skills to work. "Can you stop the loops?"
"My master can end their repetition," the woman explains. "But if he does so, Souji will finally perish – and the truth will be lost in darkness."
"So we can stop the loops by preventing Souji-senpai's death?"
"Possibly. I do not create them."
"Why don't the others remember?"
"They will, eventually." The woman's lips curve into a small, somewhat sympathetic smile. "You and Yosuke Hanamura were simply…encouraged to remember first. The Magician is the Fool's closest companion and Fortune has been crucial to the search for the truth."
Naoto bites her lip. "How do we keep Souji-senpai alive?"
The woman's expression hardens. "There are questions I am not permitted to answer." She turns her head away. "I apologize."
"You said you were Souji's friend." Naoto glances behind the woman; Yosuke is approaching through the fog. "Prove it."
"I have nothing to prove to you," she says coldly. Naoto blinks, and the woman is gone.
2011-12-22 (Cycle 8)
The attendant's smile turns sharp at the edges. "Do you, now."
Yosuke's lost. Isn't this guy just a station attendant?
Except he's starting to look different now: a softening of his features, a red tint to his eyes. Like he's shifting as Yosuke watches. Yosuke glances at Naoto and Margaret in turn, as if to ask if they're seeing the same thing.
"You are the master of this game, the conductor," Margaret says, impassive. "You bestowed the gift on Souji Seta, Taro Namatame, and Tohru Adachi."
The attendant nods his – her? – head. "Yes – and proved that emptiness murders hope. This is humanity's true desire, and those who defy it are destined to fall themselves and be trapped forever in Yomi."
Yosuke raises his palms. "Wait, wait. Rewind a bit. This is a game?"
"No, a test. One that has shown humanity's true desire for emptiness and fog."
"Then test us for real," he snaps. "We'll face you. A straight fight. None of this hope and emptiness bullshit."
The attendant laughs. It's a cold and sharp sound, spiking down Yosuke's spine. "A 'straight fight'? You have no idea to whom you speak, child."
"There is a reason you named Souji as Hope," says Margaret. Her voice is quiet, almost compassionate. "Hope may have abandoned you in Yomi, yet you still seek its redemption."
Something flashes across the attendant's expression and vanishes in an instant. "You know nothing of me, servant."
If the name bothers Margaret, she doesn't let it show. "He is not Izanagi, but neither was Emptiness. Allow Souji to prove himself, and demonstrate humanity's true desire."
"You are not ready," the attendant says. "He is not ready."
Naoto, quiet until now, cuts in. "He never will be if we let him die."
2012-12-17 (Cycle 8)
Over and over, Naoto is drawn to Junes. Souji hasn't called them to enter the TV world – he never does, on this day – but she finds herself there nonetheless, sitting alone in the food court. It's swathed in thick fog and almost deserted. She sips at her coffee, which is cooling rapidly in the cold weather. She'll leave for the police station soon then head home around midnight, going through the motions. Clockwork.
Or it would be, if she didn't see a patch of blue in the distance, by the sliding doors – and then the blonde woman, walking out of the fog.
"I may have been mistaken," she says, before Naoto can speak. "I am Souji's friend, and I owe him a great deal."
Naoto takes a deep breath. The questions that went unasked or unanswered last time have weighed heavy on her mind. "How do you know each other?" she asks. "Who or what are you?"
"I am Margaret. I am...an assistant. Nothing more." Margaret steps closer to the table, but does not sit down. "I was assigned to help Souji. Meeting him, I learned that actions stir the heart more than any words." She pauses and smiles slightly. "I've been contemplating the situation. I believe he may be part of my journey, as I am part of his."
"His journey is at risk of ending."
"I know. The previous Wild Card..." Margaret trails off, and grips the book in her arms tightly. "But this is different. A pointless death is the last thing my master and I wish for, hence the loops - but the rules limit the extent to which we can intervene."
Naoto studies her carefully, searching for some clue in her expression. "Do you intend to abide by these rules?"
Again, Margaret's lips curve in a small smile. "No."
2012-12-22 (Cycle 8)
The attendant turns away, back toward the gas pumps. "Very well. Wait until midnight on December 25th, then find me by the gateway to your world." A pause. "He will still perish."
"Then we all do," Naoto insists, a split-second before Yosuke can say the same thing – and only a moment more before the attendant vanishes into the fog.
Margaret begins walking away. "I must return to the Room. I shall take my leave." She disappears too, leaving Yosuke and Naoto alone outside Moel.
"The gateway to our world..." Naoto hums softly. "I assume they meant the studio lot."
"Weird place to fight. But December 25th it is."
Her expression turns troubled. "If that attendant is whom I believe them to be...this will be difficult."
"Have a little faith, pint-size detective." Yosuke taps the brim of her cap, forces a weak smile, and hopes it'll come over in his voice. "I'll work on bringing Souji and the others round. You talk to Kanji."
Naoto looks suddenly uncomfortable. "Very well."
For all his optimism, it's hard for Yosuke to believe his words, and as they're turning to leave, he hesitates. "Naoto – is that what everyone really wants, emptiness over hope? Is that why we keep failing?"
"Maybe. Or possibly Izanami desires it instead." Naoto shakes her head. "But either way, we must defy it."
2011-12-23 (Cycle 8)
"Why ain't we goin' in today?" Kanji mutters. "We gotta get this wrapped up quick. You heard what Adachi said."
The end of the year. If this new plan doesn't work, if Izanami was lying, then they still have time. Naoto understands the urge to push forward, but their fight against Adachi is destined to fail again and again. "You have no say in this," she points out – then, as Kanji's face falls, realizes that may have been exactly the wrong thing to say. "I'm sorry," she quickly adds, before he can reply. "That was abrupt of me."
He sighs, his shoulders sinking slightly. "Nah. You're right. You an' Souji-senpai are the smart ones. I just follow."
"You're an intelligent man, too." She hesitates. "You've – realized a few things, correct?"
A long, heavy pause.
"Maybe," he says. "I – I know everything feels like it's happening over and over. And that...something bad happened to you." The muscles in his face suddenly tense. "...I dunno what it was, but I don't want it to happen again."
Brutal in her honesty, Naoto tells him, "I can't promise it won't."
She wishes she could. Whatever it was that happened leaves her sick to her stomach and terrified of what this cycle might bring. There are no dreams, no real ideas of what will happen: just a constant, wrenching, nauseating feeling of dread. It hurts, and her chest feels tight.
"I'm just saying, if I can stop it, I'm gonna try." Kanji lets out a breath, rubs a hand over his face. "You – you matter to me, alright?"
As admissions go, it's gruff and quiet and not completely unexpected, no matter how much Naoto wishes it was. When reliving the same patterns, certain suspicions become increasingly probable as truths. She swallows thickly, as if her throat is blocked. "I know. And you to me."
His eyebrows angle down slightly. For a long moment he simply looks at her, frozen in his hesitation – then he stoops down and pulls her into a tight hug.
Naoto grips the leather of his jacket, holds her breath, and forces the tears to stay unshed.
2011-12-25 (Cycle 8)
It isn't the studio lot, not at all.
They'd barely reached the lobby door of Junes when they saw the portal – the fog ripped open, swirling red and black in empty space – and it was only a moment later that the first Shadows leapt out. A few Gigas and Gene Freaks should've been easy to take, but the team wasn't ready, didn't even realize they could summon their Personas out here until Kanji took a chance and crushed his card in his hand. All of them took a beating before that and Yukiko and Ted have no time to heal everyone before the next batch of Shadows pour through, and the next.
By the time she shows up, they're practically on their knees. Hell, Yosuke's on the ground. She really is the attendant, he realizes with a rough bark of laughter. The fucking gas attendant's going to kill all of them.
And then she changes: body stretching and twisting, red claws bursting out of her limbs, white robe billowing around her. People are screaming and running in the background, and the team are all that's keeping this thing from slaughtering the town.
They've got to win this.
2011-12-23 (Cycle 8)
Convincing Souji is easier than Yosuke expected. As if he knows what—
Nah. Stupid idea. If Souji was going to figure all this out, it would have been cycles ago. Yosuke wishes that was the case, that they could have Souji's help on this, that all of it never happened at all.
He wishes for a lot of stuff.
"So you really think we should keep waiting?" Souji asks him, staring at the fog through the glass of the Junes lobby. Today's the day it always happens, but Souji still hasn't called the others to the food court.
"Yeah. I do. Just until tomorrow night." They've been over this once already. "And it has to be late."
Souji eyes him, studies him. "Perhaps we do need to do things differently," he says quietly.
Yosuke's breath catches in his throat.
Maybe Souji does remember. Maybe that genuinelyis why he agreed so readily. And if it is, that's the best news Yosuke's heard in weeks. Or seven repetitions of the same week, he realizes – which isn't really funny, not at all, but he still has to hold himself back from laughing.
Souji's still looking at him, this time with a softness Yosuke rarely sees. "Yosuke," he says, hesitantly, "if I told you I – I could go back in time – what would you say?"
"That I believe you," Yosuke instantly replies.
Souji smiles, but there's no happiness in it. "Thanks." He stares back at the fog. "I wish I hadn't needed to."
Junes gets barely any customers since the fog set in. The lobby's empty. Yosuke lets his sleeve brush against Souji's, and quickly takes his hand.
2011-12-25 (???)
The monster raises its twisted claws. "I am Izanami," she says, inside Yosuke's skull. "Accept the reality of your death."
But she's looking at Souji as she says it – and as darkness pools beneath him, Yosuke tries to scramble to his feet and can't.
Chie does. She plows into Souji, almost knocking him down. The inky black rises in tendrils which snare around her limbs, and – even as she's cursing and screaming – yank her down into the dark.
He needs to get up, he needs to help them, he needs to—
Again, the darkness appears. Yosuke still can't stand. As he calls Susano-O, Naoto darts forward. Small as she is, she still pushes Souji away, but Kanji shoves her aside even more easily. He struggles and yells even more than Chie and Naoto tries to grab his hand – but he's gone in seconds, the tendrils snapping his spine with a sickening crack.
Susano-O spirals into the air and casts a Diarama that's just strong enough to get Yosuke back on his feet, Across the road, Souji's staring down at the black beneath his feet.
It's pure instinct. And as Yosuke shoves Souji to the snow-dusted asphalt, as the darkness stretches its long arms up and over his head, as the cage is sealed and the sharp, black fingers spear through his chest, he knows they'll still win this; that this was exactly what was meant to happen, all along.
??-??-??
Souji's just lying there - like he did again and again, all the times Yosuke tried and failed.
Yosuke steps forward and sits down beside him. The fog's thick around them, thick under them, but he sees faint outlines of other people: some familiar (he can make out Naoto's cap and Kanji's coat draped off his shoulders) and others he doesn't recognize. Souji always did know a lot of people.
This place is weird and he probably shouldn't know what to do – but he gets it.
"Hey, partner," he says.
??-??-??
Izanagi-no-Okami spear skewers Izanami with a burst of light.
Souji's still standing, haloed in blue, and Naoto's vision turns white.
2011-12-25 (complete)
When the light clears, the fog's already gone. How it lifted so quickly, Yosuke isn't sure, and he doesn't care. A few pedestrians are wandering back to Junes and he can hear them chatting among themselves: wasn't there something here, I think I remember something, what happened?
("It's for the best," Souji will tell him later, which is true even if Yosuke might've liked to play hero.)
After a few moments of tension, they all realize it's over. Though battered and bruised, the rest of the team still start celebrating: Rise and Teddie hugging everyone they can reach, Chie grinning and gesturing excitedly to Yukiko about the fight, Yukiko smiling and trying to dodge Teddie. Kanji and Naoto are standing apart from the group - closer to each other than Yosuke would've ever expected - and Kanji's hand is on her shoulder.
"You think it's really over?" Yosuke mumbles to nobody in particular. And Souji's speaking, something about the true path, when Yosuke thinks he catches something at the edge of his vision. A glimpse of deep blue – and a sensation of everything settling back into place.
And if he isn't yet brave enough to spill everything to Souji, maybe he will be soon. It feels easier, somehow. Almost like it's already happened.
The bystanders wander around curiously, glancing and whispering at the team. Yosuke turns to Souji and links their arms together. "C'mon, partner. Let's head out."