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Yusuke was eight when he first contemplated whether he was really human.
That evening, he combed his surroundings like the family pet looking for a quiet place to die. Each tree appeared beside a ghost of itself, one end of the visual plane struggling to reconnect with its twin. His left eye may very well be severed from its socket, yet he continued running aimlessly through the woods.
He didn’t know where he was going—all he knew was that he couldn’t be there.
Sensei may have apologized. Yusuke’s ears were ringing too loudly to hear. In all likelihood, though, he hadn’t said a word. His student would return eventually. He always did.
It was an accident, he attempted to reassure himself. Sensei didn’t mean to hit you so hard. He just forgot how little you weigh. In a voice that sounded an awful lot like the man responsible, his thoughts quickly clarified, This is why you don’t ask questions.
A sizeable gap in the tree cover told him it had started to rain, because of course it had. Yusuke brought rain wherever he went, replacing countless forecasts of cloudless days with cold, clammy darkness. Some students believed he was cursed. Others believed he was the curse, and he didn’t blame either side for coming to such conclusions. He believed them, too.
Something red caught Yusuke’s good eye, and he followed it, quickening his pace once he realized it wasn’t the illusion of blood dripping from his brow.
The crimson hue belonged to the gate of a small Inari shrine, which didn’t make any sense. Why here, in the middle of the woods, with no paths or signs leading up to it? How was anyone supposed to know it existed? Judging by the rot creeping up its foundation, he wondered, Does anyone know it exists…?
Perhaps whoever maintained it moved away, or died before they could find a successor. Perhaps fate, the same twisted fate that cursed him, led Yusuke here to fulfill this long-forgotten role. “You belong where no one can see you, doing work no one will ever appreciate.”
Alternatively, Yusuke had some hope that the shrine’s subject was behind all of this; that they recognized his hunger and devotion as worthy of their attention.
Or they recognized him as one of their own.
He decided to take refuge beneath the awning, though it didn’t provide much coverage.
What if… what if I’m a kitsune? Kitsune were shapeshifters, so who’s to say he simply hadn’t figured out how to shift into his true fox form yet?
It would certainly explain why he never ‘fit in’ with his peers. They seemed to have a laundry list of rules—social etiquette and the likes—they’d pass around to everyone but him. And when he broke one of these rules, they wouldn’t tell him to his face. No, he’d only find out days, even weeks after the fact, once his mistake became their little inside joke. Yusuke knew what most students thought of him, which behaviors were considered ‘unacceptable’, yet he still hadn’t figured out how he was supposed to act.
He occasionally feared there was something fundamentally wrong with him, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Sensei did, too. The man didn’t exactly do a great job at hiding his disdain whenever his student spoke out of turn.
What if Yusuke didn’t understand the world—more specifically, this world—because it wasn’t meant for him? You’re not broken. You’re just inhuman. And someday, Inari would whisk this inhuman mind away to a place he truly belonged.
Yusuke clutched his swollen eye, shivering and sniffling and silently begging someone to have noticed his absence, to come looking before the storm grew too strong for him to make it back on his own. But he knew, deep down, no one would.
Because there was a yokai in their midst, and he couldn’t be trusted.
*****
Ann was nine when she first contemplated whether she was really human.
That afternoon, the weather had intensified to something far exceeding what her flimsy umbrella could handle. One gust, and it would turn inside out.
On second thought…
She rifled through her bag. No umbrella.
Shoot. Even if the wind eventually died down, she’d still end up drenched.
Her parents were out of town for the week. Or was it two weeks? She’d lost track of their schedule. Moscow, maybe? No, no, they went to Moscow last month. This month, they’re in Paris. Paris… or Singapore. Yeah, that sounds right. Singapore… maybe. Regardless, so long as she returned in time for their servants’ nightly “You better not be dead” check-up, she could linger here a little while longer.
Shirogane-sama, the school’s librarian, had grown quite familiar with Ann by this point. The young girl frequently offered to tidy the place for her; reshelving books, documenting damages, and any other mindless tasks she hadn’t gotten around to.
Now, all Ann needed was a nod, a metal cart emerging from behind the front desk, and she went straight to work.
She tended to gravitate toward books featuring her parents’ travel destinations, especially those they were currently visiting. It was how she stayed connected to them. They’d return home, and she’d ask all sorts of questions about the culture, history, geography, whatever it took for them to drop everything and pay attention to her.
Ann just had one small problem.
She couldn’t remember if they’d gone to Paris or Singapore.
The fortunate part about being alone was that she had a seemingly infinite amount of time to kill, so why not look for books on both places? Best case scenario, she’d surprise her parents by being doubly prepared. Worst case scenario, they’d gone somewhere else entirely, and wanted nothing to do with her meaningless factoids.
As she finished the final shelf, Ann noticed a paperback shoved in haphazardly, pages warped around another copy. Shirogane-sama’s right. This really is a thankless job.
She pulled out the book, and its creased cover gave her pause.
All About Panthers
Though Ann considered herself a cat person, she didn’t know much about panthers beyond their most iconic features. Black. Big. Bigger teeth. Can climb trees (I think?).
The rain didn’t show any sign of letting up soon. At the cue of yet another thundercrack, Ann dragged a cushion into the corner and started reading.
She was hooked from the start.
“While some big cats roam in packs, panthers are solitary animals. This means they prefer to live alone, marking large, empty territories for themselves that they are apt to defend.”
Defensive. Solitary animals. Large, empty territories.
Ann, of course, had no say in when and for how long she was alone. Panthers, on the other hand, chose this life. They were ferocious, apex predators that the rest of the animal kingdom knew not to mess with. No one pulled their (pig)tails; no one claimed the only thing they’d amount to was “sitting pretty”. If they did, they’d get mauled.
Should she embraced this wild lifestyle, rejection may not hurt so much. But beyond the relatability of her new favorite animal, discovering this book genuinely made her feel like maybe, just maybe, she was never meant to be a person at all.
Ann dreaded the future sometimes. Most of the time, actually. She’d gathered early on that no one really cared what her aspirations were. She could devote every second of every day to them, and she’d still end up in the same place. A vessel for someone else’s ideas; never getting the chance to speak her own. In short, hobbies stopped being fun when she lost the option to quit.
Panthers didn’t need a pack. Ann didn’t need a pack. She didn’t need anyone but herself.
*****
Yusuke was fourteen when he rejected the possibility of being a fox.
It really shouldn’t have taken so long, but he just couldn’t muster the strength to let go of what enabled him, could he? After all, he only ever used this mythic “other self” as an excuse for bad behavior. Yusuke didn’t snap at people because he was some sort of caged animal—he was a broken human who couldn’t regulate his emotions, and he deserved to be treated as such.
What’s more, about a year ago, he went through a phase where he believed he wasn’t simply a fox, but a vixen. A female fox.
He’d curl up beneath thin, musty blankets, pretending they were the awning of that isolated shrine, and shut his eyes tight enough to see her. Her coat was silver, appearing almost blue in the sunlight, with vibrant yellow eyes. The runt of the litter, now sleek and proud, returning home after a successful hunt.
She was what Yusuke aspired to be, what he thought he was.
She was also a fighter, yipping and biting as Yusuke tore her from his subconscious.
For extra precaution, he threw away the blanket that smelled the most like the outdoors. You’ll thank me later.
*****
Ann was fifteen when she rejected the possibility of being a panther.
It really shouldn’t have taken so long, but she just couldn’t muster the strength to let go of a perfectly good shield, could she? After all, she only ever used this fearsome “other self” to make herself appear stronger than reality. Ann didn’t keep her distance because she was some sort of apex predator—she was a weak human who couldn’t even protect her only friend from a real predator, and she deserved to be treated as such.
What’s more, when fantasizing about potential mates, they were always she-panthers. Pantheresses. Girls.
She’d stretch out across a lounge chair, pretending it was the highest branch of the tallest tree, and shut her eyes tight enough to see her. Her coat was sandy, which technically made her a leopard, but Ann had done her research. Sand-toned panthers existed, and were even rarer than the already uncommon black type. People actually cared if something bad happened to them.
She was what Ann aspired to be, what she thought she was.
She was also a fighter, snarling and clawing as Ann tore her from her subconscious.
For extra precaution, she didn’t so much as look at that chair again. You’ll thank me later.
*****
Yusuke was sixteen when he finally confronted his deepest desire.
Well, one of them, at least. The revelation came soon after awakening to his Persona, which itself brought forth a million other desires he could no longer repress.
He didn’t notice his outfit at first, focusing solely on making up for all the times he shouldn’t have turned a scarred eye to the abuse inflicted upon him. Cower before me, “Sensei”, and see what happens when you try to tame a wild fox.
Once the enemy retreated—Sensei truly is my enemy now, isn’t he?—the shame set in.
A mask with ears, a blue jumpsuit, and a tail that actually wagged. He assumed this place was mocking him for thinking he could pass as anything but human.
Before he could tell these masked intruders to look away, a crushing wave of exhaustion forced him to his hands and knees. Takamaki rushed over, giving him a better look at the blonde’s distinctly feline alter ego.
“Doubt they’ll be gone long,” the boy in the skull mask (Sakamoto?) said. “We should get him outta here while we still can, Panther.”
Panther.
Yusuke could’ve sworn something akin to recognition lingered in Takamaki’s expression as she glanced at the fox mask, then the still-agitated tail, then back to the mask.
Please tell me you understand. I don’t know how much longer I can do this alone.
*****
Ann was sixteen when she finally confronted her deepest desire.
She made Kamoshida fear her for once, no longer keeping her mouth shut while he ran his. She vindicated Shiho, and though it would likely take years for the pair to heal from their mental and physical trauma, Ann couldn’t remember the last time she felt so free.
Freedom, however, came at the price of mild discomfort.
Ryuji thought she looked like a dominatrix, which she didn’t exactly have a solid defense against. Each outfit drew inspiration from the rebellious archetype the wearer embodied most. Ren was a classic phantom thief, Ryuji was a pirate, and Ann…
Maybe I just need some time to get used to it. I want to reclaim my sexuality, don’t I?
Then came the realization that her whip doubled as a tail, followed by the cat… thing commenting on their similar appearances, and you’ve gotta be kidding me right now.
This had to be some sick joke, a way of prodding insecurities only she could see. Whatever force granted her the power to break these chains was also aware she had more she wasn’t so willing to give up. The one thing she managed to avoid being turned into a rumor, and it knew. Ann felt sick. Like, really sick.
She swayed on her heels, and Ryuji threw his arms out in case she fell. Ren assured her that it was normal to experience a “withdrawal” of sorts, but he barely had the full picture.
A month later, Ann met Yusuke. As she observed his transformation, the sick feeling returned. If my outfit is a reflection of those thoughts, what does that say about him…?
*****
Sapphic love was so beautiful when Yusuke wasn’t the one experiencing it.
It took nearly a decade to accept her trans identity, and she hoped it would end there. After all, she’d never been in love with a girl before—she’d never been in love with anyone, regardless of gender. But alas, the heart is a fickle creature.
In her youth, Yusuke depicted romance with a detached fascination. Late-night sketches of nude bodies hidden beneath the floorboards; not to elicit pleasure, but to understand its appeal. Though not a single drawing of this nature managed to arouse her, the tone by which her peers discussed them, combined with Madarame’s iron rule, left her ashamed all the same.
Yusuke’s opinion of her friend shifted gradually, then spiraled into disaster. She wanted Ann to look at her more, wanted their Showtimes to last even longer. She’d have trouble breathing whenever the other girl leaned against her following a tiring Mementos trip, and any attempts at remaining motionless only made her shake harder.
The day she realized how far she’d truly fallen, Yusuke broke down. With how their relationship started, how horribly she’d treated Ann, she doubted her feelings would ever be reciprocated. And even if they were, Yusuke clearly hadn’t gotten over the delusions of her past. It was only when she’d stamped them out completely that she could allow herself to find love.
Unless…
She tried, in vain, to ignore the possibility of Ann encountering a similar predicament. Her mask and tail may simply be a reference to… that one Western antihero Yusuke forgot the name of, not an indication she wanted those features. Of course, she wouldn’t know until she confronted her about it, though that likely meant outing herself, too.
Yusuke needed to approach things casually; a hypothetical Ann would instantly recognize should the circumstances line up.
She began drafting ideas.
*****
Ann’s first love was nothing like the coming-of-age stories she grew up with. Instead, it just… hurt. A bittersweet revelation, heavy on the bitterness.
For starters, she loved a girl, which already put her at a significant disadvantage if she ever wanted her feelings returned. Second, the girl in question almost certainly didn’t like other girls. Ann wasn’t even sure she liked boys.
They had that in common. From a far-too-young age, guys would bend over backward to justify their objectifying, often downright predatory behavior toward her. She eventually grew to distrust most boys her age, then men in general. Then the rumors regarding her and Kamoshida began to spread, and she no longer trusted anyone, making figuring out her sexuality all the more difficult.
So Ann didn’t like boys, and she really, really wanted to believe she only ever had pure, platonic thoughts about girls, but the latter couldn’t be further from the truth.
There were days she’d try to get over herself, to at least find someone she’d have a marginally better chance with. Those, of course, also had to be the days she’d notice Yusuke doing her absolute darndest not to wake her as she rested her head on the taller girl’s shoulder, and Ann knew her heart couldn’t possibly forget that.
Which brought her to today.
“Have you ever wondered would it would be like to live as a different species?”
“You mean—” play it cool, Ann, “—like an animal?”
“Technically speaking, humans are animals, but yes.”
When Yusuke asked to stop by after school, Ann assumed she was either in the middle of an artistic frenzy or needed to get something important off her chest.
She did not, however, expect this.
“Doesn’t every kid have thoughts like that?” Ann replied, showing just enough of her hand to not look suspicious. “Y’know, being jealous of your cat for getting to sleep all day, or birds for being able to fly. But you, uh, move on from ‘em once you realize it’s not possible.”
Yusuke shook her head. “That isn’t what I’m getting at.” She drummed her fingers on her knee, seeming agitated. “Have you ever genuinely pondered it, beyond the occasional fleeting thought?” The drumming stopped. “Ah, so much for a casual approach…”
“Uh…”
The two halves of Ann’s psyche she’d failed to unionize were now in an all-out war with each other. One refused to let anyone, no matter how trustworthy, know her secret, while the second was convinced she’d lose her mind if she remained silent.
Do you honestly believe Yusuke, of all people, would consider that a deal-breaker? Yusuke, who was rejected by her peers on a daily basis. Yusuke, who Ann was certain spoke truthfully when she said she saw beauty in everyone. Yusuke, who gradually came to embrace her wagging Metaverse tail, in spite of the shadows that poked fun at it.
“I- I have. I do. All the time.” Ann swallowed the lump in her throat. “God, I’ve never admitted that out loud before.” Yusuke continued staring straight ahead, bangs obscuring her face. “Aaand I’m starting to regret my decision…”
Suddenly, the other girl whipped her entire body around. Leaning into Ann’s personal space, eyes practically sparkling, she asked, “What species are you!?”
Ann leaned away. “Human… obviously,” which evidently struck a nerve.
“Oh… of course. As am I.” It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.
What’s wrong with you? Ann’s thoughts scolded. She’s clearly going through the same thing, yet you respond by confirming her worst fear. Your worst fear.
They were two scared, solitary animals who desperately needed reassurance that they didn’t have to fight alone anymore. For Ann specifically, she could only keep the façade up so long before it inevitably crumbled in front of the girl she loved.
Ann scooted closer, bridging the divide between them. “Actually, no, that’s wrong. I lied. I’m a panther.” Stating something so broad triggered a roaring, rambling volcano inside her, and she did nothing to stop it from bubbling over. “Species-wise, I guess you could call me a leopard, because panthers are just leopards with melanism. They’re more of a breed, like dogs and cats, than their own species. And- and though panthers can only really be considered panthers if they have all-black fur, an incredibly rare sandy variant exists in Southeast America. Leopards without spots.” She looked away, heat rising to her cheeks. “That’s, um, that’s the breed I am.”
“Incredible,” Yusuke whispered; her soft, smooth voice making her shudder. “I lied, too. I’m a silver fox, a rare color mutation of the red fox.”
It was all too much—for her to not only think so fondly of Ann after a rant most would dismiss as either childish or downright crazy, but to openly identify with it…
The tears began to fall, and they wouldn’t stop.
“I like g-girls…!” Ann sobbed. “For a while, I assumed that since being around boys made me feel icky, I just hadn’t found the right one, b-but…! I only like girls…! I like them so much…!” She tugged on her hair, waiting for her breathing to regulate. Then, because she’d already confessed to a million other things, “There’s—sniff—this vixen I have a massive crush on right now. Even if she doesn’t like me back, I need to tell her or I’ll explode.”
“A vixen, you say?”
“Mhmm…”
“Well, I just so happen to harbor romantic feelings for a stunning pantheress.” Yusuke tilted Ann’s chin up, and she could scream, pass out, throw up— “Might that be related?”
“P-probably, yeah.”
“You sound anxious. Should I stop?”
“NO!” Ann practically saw the fur on the fox’s neck raise. “Sorry, sorry, I just- why wouldn’t I be? I’m not exactly used to situations I have any control over. You’re also my first crush. I think. I dunno, it’s kinda hard to tell whether I had crushes on girls in the past, or if I just wanted to be their friend. How come you aren’t anxious?”
“Am I really hiding it so well? You’re also my first. Though, are you sure your interest in me is romantic? Because if it isn’t, that’s quite alright.”
“Fox.”
Now it was her turn to shudder. “Panther…?”
“I wanna kiss you so bad it makes me look stupid. Yes, I’m sure.”
“Ah,” was all Fox could reply. Approximately five seconds of processing later, she followed it up with, “This would be my first kiss.”
Panther let out an uncomfortably long laugh. “Certainly wouldn’t be mine.”
“Do you want it to?”
“Do you understand what ‘first’ means?”
Fox shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, its meaning is arbitrary, especially if you didn’t consent. No one is entitled to your first, Panther.”
She… hadn’t thought of it that way before.
“I can’t just erase what happened to me.”
“And you wouldn’t.” She brought a finger to her lips, then pointed it upward. “I have an idea—perhaps this is Panther’s first. The context may be socially constructed, as most things are, but it can still mean something. It all depends on what you desire.”
“Geez, no pressure, huh?” Fox rushed to elaborate, but Panther stopped her. “Kidding. I appreciate that you’re always looking out for me. You don’t have to walk on eggshells, though.” She cupped her rosy cheeks. “Following your idea, I’ve gotta warn you about what it means to kiss the real me. Panther won’t hold back, and neither should you.”
“No need to worry.” A distinctly foxlike smirk. “I’m a rather fast learner.”
*****
Panther draped her body over her mate’s, nuzzling her neck. “You’ve been at this for hours,” she bemoaned. “Take a break. The den is all made up.”
“While your offer is tempting, I must remain focused,” Fox replied, stealing a quick kiss. “I’m on track for my most authentic piece yet.”
She scanned the canvas, where a silver fox, sleek and proud, stood atop a rock angled toward the sunrise. “What’s the prompt?”
“Self-portraiture."