Chapter Text
Minato practically sinks into the command room couch as he stares at the large central screen, slouching in disinterest. Next to him, Junpei seems to be enamored by the electronics and Yukari looks like she’s actually paying attention, so Minato’s pretty sure he can zone out just fine.
“This is a chart of Shadow activity around Tatsumi Port Island,” Kirijo declares, gesturing at the screen. It’s a map of the island, areas of the city ranging from pale green to dark red. Off to the side is a key, with the lightest green indicating minimal Shadow activity, while dark red means high levels of Shadow activity.
Minato notes that it’s the darkest red around Gekkoukan High School, around Tartarus, then gets lighter the farther you go from there. That’s a good enough observation for him to keep checking out, he thinks.
“In general, these readings are an average over the past year,” she elaborates. “The trends often wax and wane alongside the moon, and have generally increased over the years.”
Junpei leans forward. “Wait, so you’re tellin’ me that there are even more Shadows now than before? But there are already so many!”
Kirijo nods. “Unfortunately, yes. It’s become more noticeable lately, to the point where even Akihiko became overwhelmed and was injured. It’s part of why we’re so desperate for more Persona-users to join SEES.”
Yukari frowns, wringing her hands. “It makes sense. Apathy Syndrome’s gotten more common lately, too.”
“Correct. Getting back to the map, it’s not difficult to see that Gekkoukan is the center of Shadow activity, considering it’s the darkest red,” Kirijo points to the location. “By and large, readings decrease as you get farther from Tartarus, with a few exceptions.”
“Shadows frequent more populated areas, right?” Yukari gestures to a few spots on the map. “So those hot spots make sense.”
Junpei frowns at that, squinting, but no one pays him any mind.
“Very good,” Kirijo smiles. “There seems to be a generally positive correlation between population density and Shadow activity. More psyches to feed on in closer proximity, essentially.”
She turns to Minato, crossing her arms. “Anything you’d like to note, Arisato?”
He just shrugs.
Kirijo sighs, looking towards Junpei. “And you, Iori?”
“I wouldn’t bother,” Yukari mutters under her breath.
“Hey, I heard that!” Junpei protests. “And, I do have something, thanks very much.”
Yukari rolls her eyes. “Okay, genius, then what is it?”
Junpei hops off the couch and trots over to the command room screen, puffing out his chest. He points to a small circle of green in an area of mostly pale orange. “See this weird spot? What’s up with that, huh?”
Yukari opens her mouth to deny it, but she takes a second look at where Junpei is pointing, and realizes she can’t. “…fine, you’re right.”
Minato thinks she probably shouldn’t have said that, since Junpei now looks about ready to explode with “I told you so” energy, but he doesn’t care enough to try to defuse the situation.
“Ah, yes, I nearly forgot about that,” Kirijo hums. “What Iori has found is an anomaly in the data, but not an error. This small zone of minimal activity surrounds an apartment complex, one that, to our knowledge, is entirely ordinary.”
Yukari furrows her brows. “That’s odd. Has it always been like that?”
“No, it hasn’t. One day, a little over a year ago, Shadow activity during the Dark Hour in that specific area dropped dramatically,” Kirijo explains. “On seemingly random nights, the readings jump to what would be expected, before suddenly dropping again. Even with physical scouting of the location by Akihiko and I, we’ve never been able to determine the origin of this anomaly.”
“Weird,” Junpei whistles. “Wonder if there’s a ghost or something haunting the place that keeps the Shadows away.”
Yukari shudders. “Ghosts aren’t real, idiot! And if they were, why would it vanish on random nights?” she sighs. “Whatever. I wish we knew what was causing that, though. Being able to repel Shadows seems like it would be useful.”
“Agreed. Unfortunately, exploring Tartarus and handling the powerful Shadows is still our priority,” Kirijo reminds. “Now, speaking of which…”
Minato half-tunes out the rest of the explanation. What a weird anomaly. He wonders if he’ll ever find out what’s behind it.
Eh. Probably not. It doesn’t really matter, anyway.
—————
Minato wasn’t expecting to feel anything when Aragaki died, besides maybe disappointment at the loss of a competent fighter. And yet, even days later, the subtle reminders of him cause something to ache in his chest.
He hasn’t felt anything like this in a long time. It’s… painful, but reassuring, in a strange way. After a decade of numbness, something finally broke through the apathy, the barrier around his heart weakened by the growing bonds with his new friends.
Minato cherishes the memories of Aragaki that he does have, and that’ll have to be enough.
The situation does leave him a little aimless, though. He’s already managed his Personas in the Velvet Room and prepped new gear for the next excursion. Though, even Minato can see that nobody is up for runs through Tartarus when it’s still so fresh, especially with midterms coming up.
He decides to head to Iwatodai Station in the afternoon, maybe try to rank up his Social Link with Hayase, or increase his Charm at Hagakure. Minato never manages to make it that far, though, reality slipping a little bit from his fingers.
He can almost see the Strength and Fortune Shadows in the darkness, the pair stalling them until it was already too late. There are red splatters on the ground, the kind that Minato has never figured out if they’re another product of the Dark Hour or actual blood. There is Minato’s failure.
“Hey, you okay?”
But none of it is actually there.
Minato’s eyes refocus on the source of the voice, a man in front of him with an expression mixing concern and hesitation. The man looks to be in his mid- to late twenties, with reddish-brown hair and matching eyes. The uniform tells Minato that this is a police officer, though it looks a little different than Kurosawa’s. A detective, maybe?
“Yeah,” Minato finally replies, voice level and unrevealing. “I’m fine.”
“Good to hear,” the man replies. “You shouldn’t space out like that, if you can help it. You might miss more than you think.”
There is a weight to that statement that Minato can feel, an echo of experience. Even besides that, there is a presence to this man, a familiarity that Minato can almost grasp. It’s almost like the feeling when he’s around Kamiki, that of a dulled Sun.
“I’ll try not to,” is all Minato can say. He’s not much for promises.
That’s normally where things would end, but the dam blocking Minato’s emotions was broken and he wants to reach for that familiarity, hold the broken pieces in his hands no matter how much they bleed. So for once, he keeps talking.
“I haven’t seen you around before,” Minato comments.
The man shrugs. “Figures. I’ve spent most of my time back at the station. I’m not local, so I only recently got out of full-time desk duty.”
Minato thinks about the rising number of Apathy Syndrome cases, the disappearances around the full moon, and Aragaki’s sudden death. He can’t help but suspect that there’s a little more to it. He just nods anyway.
A breeze blows by, a brisk autumn wind, mussing up both their hair. Minato couldn’t care less, but the man lifts his right hand to try to push some of the strands out of his eyes.
Minato’s gaze zeroes in on a strange black mark on the man’s arm, twisting on his skin before disappearing underneath long sleeves. He thinks it looks like a hand, but maybe it’s just dark.
“I should get going,” the man says, Minato’s attention refocusing on his face rather than his arm. “Stay out of trouble, and don’t do anything stupid.”
The man just gives a nod as a farewell, resting his hands in his pockets as he walks away. Minato watches until he turns a corner and vanishes.
He isn’t quite sure what that was. Minato has been told that he has this presence about him that makes people feel inclined to talk to him, to trust him, and while he’s definitely not sure about that, he can’t deny his accidental socialization. He knows so many names and has so many contacts at this point that it’s almost overwhelming.
And yet, there didn’t seem to be any of that in that interaction. Minato didn’t even get that man’s name, or anything about him, really. Just… unusual.
Minato thinks that he’ll visit Kamiki tomorrow.
—————
“Wow, you really get stuff from the police? Y’know, that’s pretty shady,” Ryoji teases as he follows Minato through Paulownia Mall.
“You don’t have to come,” Minato reminds. He usually goes to get new gear alone, but Ryoji had insisted on coming, and he really has to buy some upgrades. The twelve Greater Shadows may be gone, but now they’ve accidentally unleashed something worse, so Minato has to be prepared. Ryoji’s not a snitch, anyway.
“Nah, I’ll come,” Ryoji clasps his hands and rests them on the back of his head. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”
Minato raises an eyebrow at that, but doesn’t complain. He takes a look at the bulletin of missing persons outside the police station, mentally noting down the names for future Tartarus runs.
“What’s this?” Ryoji asks, squinting at the bulletin. “Missing persons… oh. There are a lot of names. I didn’t know it had gotten that bad,” he says with an uncharacteristic quiet.
He just shrugs. “I’m going inside.”
Ryoji turns away from the bulletin, eyes wide. “Hey, wait for me!”
The two head inside, Officer Kurosawa looking up from his desk up front. “Ah, Arisato. And you’ve brought a friend?”
Ryoji steps forward, bowing and giving a winning smile. “Yep, I’m Minato’s buddy! My name is Mochizuki Ryoji, sir.”
Kurosawa chuckles. “He’s got better manners than you, Arisato. Anyway, what do you need today?”
Minato rolls his eyes at Ryoji and pulls out his wallet. He does his normal routine of weighing all his options and buying what he thinks is worth it. Ryoji “oohs” and “ahhs” over some of the gear.
The station’s door opens to the sound of footsteps. Minato doesn’t turn around immediately, too engrossed in choosing a new spear for Ken. Ryoji glances towards the front and stills, causing Minato to turn around as well.
It’d only been about a month, but Minato had nearly forgotten that man, buried underneath other obligations. There’s a trio of angry red slashes on his cheek, but otherwise, he looks the same, including the strange mark on his hand.
“Oh, Suou,” Kurosawa greets, checking his watch. “Thought you were meant to be back twenty minutes ago.”
“Sorry. A girl’s cat got stuck in a tree, and my brother would never forgive me if I didn’t help out,” the man—Suou—replies, pointing to his face. “Cats don’t really like me, though.”
Kurosawa laughs heartily. “Suppose I can’t fault you for that.”
Suou heads to one of the walls, leaning against it. As he does, Ryoji moves to Minato’s other side.
“Um, I’m gonna go wait outside,” Ryoji says with barely a breath before he’s off, the door shutting behind him. Minato watches him leave before shrugging and going back to his decision-making.
“So you’re the kid who collects weapons, huh?” Suou comments to Minato after Ryoji leaves. “Guess it’s not my place to judge your hobbies, if Kurosawa is fine with it.”
Minato nods, easily going along with the cover story, finally settling on a spear. He still has some yen to spare, so he looks at the swords for himself. He always leaves his own weaponry for last, since he can make up for it with his Personas even if his weapon isn’t top-of-the-line.
He tests out a few in his hands, getting a gauge for how they handle. He’s torn between two, as he often is.
“Go with the first one,” Suou suddenly speaks up. “It’s a better fit for your stature and gait. You’ll hit harder with it, even if it has a shorter reach.”
Minato stares at Suou for a moment before realizing that the man is right. He hands over the yen to Kurosawa, taking his new weapon. “Thanks.”
“Sounds like you know your way around a sword, Suou,” Kurosawa notes. “Must’ve been quite the athlete back in high school.”
“No, not really. I…” Something in Suou’s eyes turns stormy as he furrows his brows, like he’s reaching for something that isn’t there. “Nevermind. I should be getting back to work.”
Suou heads deeper into the station, Minato watching him go.
Kurosawa sighs. “He’s been here for almost two years now, but sometimes, I still can’t get a read on that guy. Ah, well. Need anything else, kid?”
Minato shakes his head, zipping up his duffel bag full of gear and hefting it over his shoulder as he heads out. Frequent combat certainly helps with having the strength for that kind of thing.
He finds Ryoji sitting on one of the benches by the fountain, worrying his thumbs. Ryoji brightens when he spots Minato approaching, whistling high to low.
“Looks like you got a ton of stuff,” Ryoji comments, though Minato notices that there’s still an uncharacteristic undertone of anxiety in Ryoji’s voice.
“Are you okay?” Minato asks bluntly, sliding onto the bench next to him.
Ryoji sighs. “Yeah, I’m fine now. I dunno what it was about that Suou guy, but he really freaked me out. Felt the urge to run. No clue why.”
Minato nods in acknowledgement. He’s just as dumbfounded as Ryoji; Suou didn’t seem to have anything nefarious or supernatural about him. Just a normal guy, save for maybe that black mark, which could just be a weird tattoo. “Weird.”
“It’s fine. I’m not gonna let that ruin our day, though—let’s go to Mandragora! I’ll pay,” Ryoji invites, a smile returning to his face.
“You would catch me dead before you would catch me singing karaoke," Minato deadpans, staring directly into Ryoji’s bright blue eyes.
“We’ll see about that!”
Ryoji does not, in fact, get Minato to sing karaoke. They have fun, anyway.
—————
Minato lies in his bed wide awake, staring at the ceiling. The ticking of the clock is all that interrupts the deathly silence of the night.
There’s no one else. Just himself, after midnight and the twenty-fifth hour, the calendar’s date having switched over to December 3rd. There’s no Aigis, there’s no Pharos, and there’s certainly no Ryoji.
Ryoji. Death. The Appraiser. The Harbinger of the Fall. Who was he, really? Was any part of “Ryoji” real, or just an incomplete façade born from the fragment sealed inside Minato?
Oh, and the end of the world is inevitable, and they’re all going to die. Lovely.
Once upon a time, Minato wouldn’t have cared one bit. Perhaps he would have even welcomed it. That mentality would be so easy to fall back into, too; it would be a simple matter to once again smother himself in apathy and cocoon himself in layers upon layers of uncaring, live like a ghost and barely at all, just as he once did.
But he can’t. Not anymore, now that he has bonds and connections and friends. Minato has relearned how to love and he can’t take that back.
And so, he returns to Ryoji. To his almost-obnoxious flirting and near-overwhelming peppiness, to the way he and Junpei got along like a house on fire, and to him somehow worming his way deep into Minato’s heart in a matter of weeks.
It can’t have all been a lie. Minato would have known. Or, at least, he refuses to acknowledge the possibility.
Even then, maybe Minato should have guessed. The conspicuous transfer time should have been the first red flag, alongside the incredibly vague and undocumented backstory. That instant, inexplicable connection that Minato felt to him, the feeling of having already known him for ages. Those blue, blue eyes that seemed almost unnatural, like a window into the Sea of Souls itself. They were just like Pharos’s, too.
Well, of course they were. They were the same person.
There were those other oddities, too, like how Ryoji talked with so many people but only bonded deeper with SEES, and how he seemed to prefer places where the Greater Shadows once were, or how he never seemed to get full, like his stomach was a black hole. Minato used to share that trait, until…
Huh. Was that piece of Death inside him the reason why he was always eating so much? Considering his appetite seemed to diminish to a normal level after November 3rd, Minato supposes that it must have passed onto Ryoji when he was freed.
Now that Minato thinks about it, there was only one time that he saw Ryoji seem genuinely afraid. Terribly upset, of course, once Ryoji learned the truth about himself, but never scared.
Except for Suou.
Knowing what he does now, Minato is even more baffled about that day. It’s one thing for a normal kid to be nervous about a random guy, but the incarnation of Death itself? For something or someone to trigger such a visceral instinct of fear in such a powerful, nigh-unstoppable being, especially a seemingly typical person… Minato has no idea what it could mean. He’s not sure if he should know.
It doesn’t matter, in the end. For all he knows, Ryoji still has no clue, either.
He wants to talk to Ryoji again.
Death has taken from Minato before. He decides not to let it take Ryoji from him, too, idiosyncrasies and all.
He finally falls asleep, dreaming of spinning wheels and suns.
—————
Minato does not see Suou again. He seals Nyx, the days blur together, and he dies.
It is only then, a part of the Collective Unconsciousness, that he understands why Ryoji was so afraid.
Minato doesn’t blame him.