Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dec 11 2011


Somehow, he’s not entirely surprised when he’s called to the Velvet Room that first night.

He’s on a train he doesn’t remember boarding, sitting in an enclosed compartment upholstered entirely in soft blue fabric. There’s a small table standing a foot away from him in the centre of the compartment, and on the other side of that, two figures on the other seat - directly opposite him, a small man with bulging, bloodshot eyes and a long nose, and closer to the compartment window, a pale boy in a blue-and-black conductor’s uniform with an open book in his lap and his head bowed low toward it.

“Welcome to the Velvet Room,” says Igor with a smile that treads on sinister, and Yosuke has one last precious second to enjoy playing his comfortable role of trusted lieutenant before Souji’s responsibility becomes his.

He signs a contract. Igor explains, about Personas, about bonds, about the thread that’s been severed but has now been replaced precisely because of the strength of those bonds. Yosuke sits quietly and stares at his hands, and listens, to him and to his borrowed destiny and to the constant, rhythmic clack of wheels on the tracks outside. He feels out of place. He’s not the one who should be sitting here, and he knows that - but he also knows the choice is out of his hands.

He has to do this. He’s made a promise.

“You will find, however, that you do not need to bear the burden of your responsibilities entirely on your own,” says Igor. With a sweep of his hand, he indicates the youth seated near the window. “Allow me to introduce my assistant.”

His eyes flicker again to the boy seated in the corner, who in turn looks up from his book and offers him a small, polite smile from under the brim of his uniform hat. It’s the gentlest possible gesture, but Yosuke jerks backward at the sight of it like he’s been kicked hard in the chest, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

It can’t be.

“Hello,” says Souji with a perfunctory nod. Yosuke chokes; speechless, for once in his life, and at the worst possible time. It’s him. It’s him. He’s done it, he’s found him, he’s notgone, and damn if that isn’t the brightest thought he’s had since it happened. He starts to smile, the corners of his mouth just beginning to creep upward, a laugh halfway to his lips - but Souji abruptly cuts him off, utterly heedless of his teetering on the cusp of a messy emotional outburst. “My name is Sebastian. Pleased to meet you.”

His half-formed smile falters. The room swims for a moment; the figures sitting opposite him sway absurdly in his line of sight. Suddenly, there’s no air to breathe at all in that tiny compartment.

“Sebastian’s role is to assist you during your coming trials,” says Igor. “I suggest you avail yourself of his help while you-”

“What... what the hell is this?” His hands have started trembling. He curls them into tight fists at his sides to still them, knuckles whitening, bitten-down nails pressing jagged marks into his palms. “Souji... what are you doing?”

Souji’s brow furrows beneath the brim of his cap, and he glances uncertainly at Igor, who laces his spidery fingers together under his long nose and offers him no assistance. When he turns back to Yosuke, it’s with a hesitant tinge to his eyes and his voice. “I’m sorry. Are you speaking to me?”

Yosuke exhales sharply, a hard, rasping breath that rattles his lungs. No. No, this isn’t real. This isn’t happening, this can’t be happening. He tries to inhale again and can’t catch his breath. A cold, clammy hand flies up to his chest and feels it nonetheless heaving, feels his heart starting to pound faster behind his ribcage. 

“Are you all right?” asks the boy with Souji’s face, but Yosuke can’t answer. The window is shrinking and the compartment interior suddenly feels like it’s cramping down around him, and this - this isn’t happening. He’s going crazy, he’s losing it. 

Souji’s dead.

Souji’s dead, he’s just making all this up, just to torture himself, it’s just a stupid dream because of the funeral and he’s shutting his eyes and driving the heels of his palms into his sockets and his chest is going to burst if he can’t - breathe -

He wakes up gasping in the dark of his bedroom, cold but sweating and half-tangled in his bedsheets. His chest heaves for air, over and over until finally he’s sure that this is reality and not just an extension of his nightmare, and then his wheezing hitches into a hard, creaking sob that he can’t suppress. He rolls over and stifles the rest of it into his sweat-dampened pillow. He doesn’t want to hold it in anymore, all this frustration and grief, but he also doesn’t want to wake Teddie, asleep in a futon on the other side of the room. Teddie needs a good night’s sleep. Yosuke does too -- but he’s not so desperate yet that he dares close his eyes again to get it.

Chapter Text

He pretends to be asleep when Teddie gets out of bed that Sunday morning. It seems to take him a long time to leave the room, but Yosuke lies there and waits, listening to him shuffling around as he gets dressed and ready for the day and then finally closes the door behind him on his way out. He opens his eyes, turns over onto his side and pulls the blankets up to his nose, and stares at the door for a while. 

They’ve shared a room for the last five months. Mornings have become a routine of noisy arguments and thrown pillows, and before now Yosuke’s never thought he’d actually prefer that to the gloomy silence of the past week.

He waits almost an hour before finally getting up, then delays some more by taking his time getting dressed, tending more carefully than usual to his bruised arm and leg, and lingering by the window. He brushes the curtain aside just a crack and peers out into the street, and his stomach clenches with apprehension, even though there’s nothing to see. Cloudy skies and thick fog again today.

They can’t ignore it forever.

It’s close to noon when he trudges down the stairs, listening for the sound of his parents but hearing only the low, staticy murmur of voices coming from the living room television, a sound that abruptly drops off into silence when he reaches the bottom. He finds Teddie on the couch with his legs pulled up to his chin and his arms tucked under his knees, but he sits up a little straighter when Yosuke comes as far as the living room doorway.

“Morning, Yosuke,” says Teddie. It comes out quiet and flat and all wrong, not at all like the Teddie who’s been happily crashing at his house and waking him up too early for school and screwing up his computer. But he’s trying, so Yosuke mumbles the same back to him anyway. “Are you hungry? I made breakfast.”

Yosuke almost starts toward the kitchen - not because he’s hungry in the least but to check out what kind of disaster Teddie must have left in his wake that he’ll now have to clean up - but he catches himself at the last second. “Thanks, Ted. I’ll eat in a bit.”

Teddie frowns and shifts a little, playing with a string on the hem of his trousers while Yosuke hovers awkwardly. “Okay,” he says, “But aren’t you working today?”

Shit. He turns to look at the hallway clock and realizes Teddie’s right, as much as he wishes it weren’t the case. His stomach sinks. Why had he thought this was a good idea? His parents had even given him an out, offered to let him take as much time off as he needed to, but in the end, lying around being useless will just make him feel worse. He thinks, anyway. It’s definitely not how he feels this morning. This morning he’d rather lock himself in the bathroom and vomit his guts up so they can’t churn around in there anymore. Funny how what he needs and what he thinks he needs never seem to line up. “Dammit... I totally forgot. Thanks, Ted.”

It makes him a terrible person, he knows, but going to work also gives him an excuse not to be here, and he can’t deny the shade of relief he feels as he turns from the living room doorway, and away from Teddie’s sombre face. It’s been days and he still can’t think of what to say to him. He can’t even get it straight in his own head, what’s supposed to make him feel better and what he’s supposed to do now. Putting it into words Teddie will understand feels beyond impossible.

But he hasn’t made it halfway down the hall toward the kitchen before he hears his name being called behind him. Yosuke shuts his eyes and breathes deep, stalls for a second before doubling back to the living room doorway. “What’s up?”

“Um...” At some point since he’d been out of Yosuke’s sight Teddie had moved to perch stiffly on the edge of the couch, but now he’s stock-still and uncomfortable again. “Do you think you could...”

He trails off and pauses for a long time. Yosuke’s impatience spikes in a hot burst, his fuse made shorter by depression and lack of sleep, and before he can think better of it he grates, “C’mon, Ted, spit it out. I’m gonna be late.”

“...Can you not go today?”

Yosuke’s anger flits away from him as quickly as it had come, leaving him stunned and ashamed of his selfishness. How can he act like this toward Teddie? He needs him. Fuck, they’ve been living under the same roof and not talking about it, and here he is, wallowing in his own self-pity and self-loathing while Teddie’s - Teddie, who has only ever wanted to look out for him is -

“Yeah,” Yosuke croaks, and then tacks a chuckle onto the end of it to cover it up. “Yeah, I... That sounds good.”

The brightness doesn’t entirely return to Teddie’s face as Yosuke picks up the phone and tells his parents he’s not coming in, but that cringing tightness around his mouth and eyes goes away at least. As he hangs up, Teddie is already halfway up the stairs, proclaiming he’ll be right back with another one of Chie’s borrowed DVDs for them to watch.

It’s not much, he guesses. A first step, maybe, a fraction of the way back to a “normal” he doesn’t honestly believe he’ll ever reach again. But maybe it can’t hurt to hope. It’s better than standing still, anyway. 

Yosuke turns the TV back on to get the DVD player ready for when Teddie comes back. The news is on, he notices - dimly, at first, and then with a growing coldness in his heart as he recognizes the intersection being shown in the video feed in the top corner of the screen. 

He turns the channel as fast as he can manage.

When he’s not dreaming about trains he dreams about cars - about glass on the pavement and the stench of burned rubber and a solid weight clinging to the front of his jacket.  There’s warm wetness rolling down the side of his face, leaking past his eyes and back toward his temples and hairline, and sometimes he smears his hand through it as he wakes up and stares at it in the dark, fingers trembling, unable to calm down until he’s sure it’s clear and not a thick red.

Despite all that, it’s the train he hates the most.  

The car, he can understand.  That’s trauma.  He wakes up sick and shaking like it’s happening all over again, but at least he understands it. It’s real.  It’s a thing, and he’s good at dealing with things. In contrast he doesn’t understand the train, and isn’t sure at first if it’s real or if he’s just going crazy, and that’s always worse.

Igor isn’t there the next time he steps into the Velvet Room, called again through his dreams during what few scraps of sleep he’s managing to get. Souji -- or whoever he is -- sits alone in the train compartment, cutting a deck of what looks like tarot cards and carefully laying out some of them on the table.  He doesn’t look up to greet him right away, choosing instead to finish his task before cautiously meeting his eyes and offering him a rather neutral, “Good evening.”

Yosuke can’t do much of anything except stare vacantly back. This is insane, but... there’s no way it’s not Souji. Same face, same voice, same body language.  Only his eyes are different - yellow where they should have been grey, and although the sight initially fills Yosuke with panic when he notices, he knows that what he’s afraid of simply isn’t possible.

This has to be Souji.  He doesn’t know how, but it has to be.

“My master is away at the moment,” says Souji.  “He’s instructed me to wait for you, in case you decided to come back.”

“Did you...” He pauses, wets his lips. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“You didn’t.  I called you here.”

“You did?  Why...?”

Souji tilts his head down slightly, hiding below the brim of his cap; it helps Yosuke a little too, not having to look him in the eye.  “To apologize.  Our last meeting seemed to have been upsetting for you.”

“Upsetting...? Souji, you’re-” He can feel his pulse starting to pick up again, and forces himself to take a few calming breaths in response.  He panicked the last time he’d been here and the dream had lost hold of him, but now that he’s made it back he’s determined not to lose this chance again.  “You’re -- you are Souji, aren’t you?”

“...No,” he says with a soft frown.  “Didn’t I introduce myself?  I’m a resident of the Velvet Room, like my master.  My name is Sebastian.”

“I swear to god... If you’re doing this on purpose, Souji, I swear to god...”

The unspoken threat hangs in the air between them for several long moments.  It doesn’t seem to have any effect on Souji, however, whose frown turns a little sympathetic as he watches Yosuke struggle over his words.  At last, he says, “My master... selects the shape of this Room and its residents, based on the current guest and his or her destiny.  But sometimes the guest can influence the Room as well.  It seems... I’ve taken the form of someone you know.”

Yosuke shuts his eyes and nods.

“Would you prefer I look like someone else?”

That’s his out.  He opens his mouth to say god yes, please, someone else, anyone else - but he can’t.  The shock of seeing his face again had been awful and horrifying... but something isn’t right.  There has to be a reason for this, doesn’t there?  If this person isn’t really Souji, if he’s just a projection with Souji’s face, there has to be a reason for him being here.  Forcing him to change his shape will just bury that reason, and then he’ll lose his chance at it forever.

Assuming he’s still sane, of course, and not just imagining that he’s been talking with his dead best friend for the last two nights.  Put like that, being sane is starting to sound like a bit of a stretch.

“...No,” says Yosuke.  “No, you... You don’t have to change.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods. “Yeah.  You’re... fine the way you are.”

Sebastian blinks once, appearing slightly taken aback by that admission, but then he smiles - guardedly, perhaps, but genuinely nonetheless.  “What a nice thing to say to someone.  I think we’ll get along fine.”

He reaches for one of the face-down cards on the table to turn it over, and then pauses with his gloved fingertips hovering over it for a moment before drawing his hand back.

“I know we’ve only just met,” he says thoughtfully, leaning back into the seat cushions, “but you’ve piqued my interest. My master informed me that you’ve chosen to carry the burden of a destiny that wasn’t supposed to be yours.  That’s quite impressive.”

Yosuke doesn’t know what to say to that at first.  It’s hard, almost too hard to look at that face and not think about the night he last saw it, when he’d accepted that burden with only the faintest idea of what it would entail.  Being congratulated for it falls a little flat.  It’s not like he wanted this, like he wouldn’t go back to any day before the accident in a heartbeat if he could.  “I have to.  I promised.”

“I see.  I wonder if you have the strength to carry out that promise.”  Sebastian looked him over appraisingly for a moment, before seeming to come to his decision.  “Can I ask a favour of you?”

“Yeah,” Yosuke breathes.  “Of course.”

“I want you to show me your potential.”

“Huh?  What do you mean?”

“Time is short, and you’re new to your Wild Card ability, so I want you to test it.  My master will teach you about Persona fusion. When he does, bring me a Garuda that knows Mediarama.”

Healing is really more Yukiko’s thing, but Yosuke agrees. If he’s going to be honest with himself, he hadn’t planned on actually using any of Souji’s Personas - that feels like crossing a line somehow, and anyway he’s too used to Jiraiya to even want to - but it looks like he can’t avoid it.  

“Then I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do,” says Sebastian with a smile, and before he can respond, the room fades to darkness and Yosuke feels himself slipping out of the dream into wakefulness.

Dec 12, 2011

He’s still not ready to believe one hundred percent that all this is really happening, but finding the entrance to the Velvet Room in the shopping district helps a little. On the one hand, it’s a glowing blue portal that he’s never seen before and apparently only he can see now, and that doesn’t bode well for his grip on reality; but on the other, the little blue key Souji had given him seems to glow and pulse with energy in his pocket when he approaches it. And getting the key, at least, had been real. He remembers that part more painfully and clearly than he wants to.

Igor explains the fusion process to him, and he thinks he understands now where Souji must have gotten at least half of all those other selves. It takes some trial and error, but eventually he manages to produce the Persona Sebastian is looking for, and he turns to show him the tarot card with a sort of cautious optimism.

Sebastian smiles at him. “Very good,” he says, as he records Garuda’s new form in the heavy-looking book on his lap. “Thank you for indulging me. With some practice I think you’ll be more than capable of facing your destiny.”

When he’s finished speaking, he looks down at the open book and studies the picture of Garuda. Yosuke cranes his neck a little to see what he’s looking for, but he can’t quite make anything out from this distance, and upside down. After a moment, Sebastian murmurs something too quiet to hear.

“Sorry... what?”

“...The Star,” repeats Sebastian, and he closes the book and meets Yosuke’s eyes once again. “It’s a good card. It indicates fresh starts and renewed hope. Healing.”

“Oh...” says Yosuke. He slumps back in his seat and stares at his knees, not wanting to engage in that kind of talk here if he can help it. “Yeah. I guess. Don’t think there’s much of that to go around right now though.”

“But doesn’t he make you want to try?”

He snaps back to full attention, drawn back by the unusually warm tone of Sebastian’s voice. Is he...? No, he can’t mean- “Wait a sec...” he says slowly, sitting up a bit straighter. “Are you... talking about Teddie?”

Sebastian has a strange, uncertain look on his face, like even he doesn’t know what he’s just said. Yosuke doesn’t miss the way Igor is watching him keenly in his peripheral vision. “No,” he answers, and Yosuke is seized by disappointment to hear his voice calm and neutral again. “My apologies. I’m not sure what came over me.”

“You’d best be going,” says Igor with a grim smile and a wave of his hand. “Your time is borrowed; my advice to you is not to waste it.”

Yosuke nods and gets to his feet, eager to leave and process what just happened, that weird blip of familiarity, of Souji in Sebastian’s otherwise stoic demeanour. Just before he reaches the sliding compartment door, however, Sebastian calls out to him.

“If you can manage it,” he says, “I’d like to see what else you can do with your power. Next time, see if you can bring me Thoth immune to Mudo.”

“...Okay,” Yosuke promises, and swiftly takes his leave.

On the other side of the compartment door, he’s relieved to find himself back in the shopping district with his feet on solid ground. He’s still standing close to the Velvet Room’s door, still bathed in the strange blue light it emits, but no one passing by gives him even a cursory second glance. He turns around to face it, and when he’s sure no one’s looking, gives it one good, firm kick with as much force as he can muster. His heavy winter boot connects solidly with the door; the vibration shakes all the way up his leg. 

About as real as it gets, he figures.

Yosuke pulls his coat collar closer around his neck against the damp and the cold, and heads off through the fog toward home. As much as he doesn’t want to do it, he’s been warned about their dwindling time limit twice now: it’s time to call the others and plan their next move.

Chapter Text

Dec 13, 2011

Ordinarily there’s a decent view of Inaba from Yasogami High, but today Yosuke doesn’t see much of anything when he hooks his fingers through the chain link fencing at the rooftop’s edge and peers down. Thick fog conceals all but the tallest of buildings at the foot of the hill, and he struggles to remember whether it was quite so bad yesterday. The weather hasn’t exactly been at the forefront of his mind lately.

He’d met Teddie at the school gates just after class let out, and he’s sitting on the ground beside him now with his back against the fencing. He hasn’t said much since they arrived, both of them content to keep to their own thoughts while they wait for the others, and though ordinarily Yosuke would be worried about that, he isn’t right now. It’s an easier silence than the ones that have been passing between them for the last week - a stronger, more determined one, a silence fuelled by having things to think about, things to do. 

His fingers flex convulsively around the fence links. He still has Teddie -- and he swears to himself, no matter what he has to sacrifice to do it, he’s not going to lose him too.

The others arrive in solemn clusters, Chie and Yukiko first, then Kanji, Rise and Naoto after them. It’s the first day they’ve all been at school together all week -- skipped the first couple of days, then took the others in shifts if they thought they were up for it -- and consequently the first time they’ve all gathered as a group that wasn’t at a funeral. Not that he hadn’t wanted to be with everyone, deep down, but he’d been injured, then depressed, and then the prospect had outright terrified him. 

It still does. Even now, when they murmur hellos and gather around each other, they unconsciously leave a space in the circle for someone who won’t be joining them.

“I didn’t realize how bad the fog looks from up here,” says Chie, standing beside him and gazing out over the town like he’d been doing until just now. “It’s just getting worse...”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I thought so, too.”

“We have to go to the other side,” Yukiko says, every word slow and infused with reluctance, “don’t we...”

That’s certainly why Yosuke had called them all, to make sure everyone would be at school today. Now that they’re together like this, however, he doesn’t know how to start. What gives him the right, anyway? There’s no point in trying to jump right in and rally the troops and expect them to go along with it, like he’s the new leader or something. The mere thought of it turns his stomach. Like anyone could ever fill a role like that after the loss they’ve all suffered. He doesn’t even want to try.

No, if they’re going to get through this, it’s going to be as a unit, and holding that thought in his mind, he looks at each of them in turn as he asks, “Is that what you want to do?”

"What kinda question is that?" Kanji asks gruffly. Yosuke glances at him when he says it, to get a better read on him -- Kanji's tone always comes off rough, even when he doesn't mean it to -- and he's struck by what he sees when their eyes meet. While the others are looking wherever they can, at Kanji, at their shoes, at the fog-choked horizion, Kanji's staring a hole into him with an intensity that unexpectedly turns his knees to water. "What other choice do we got?"

"We can't not go..." agrees Rise, though she sounds uncertain enough about that statement that she doesn't follow it up with any compelling argument as to why.

"Hey, I wasn't saying we shouldn't... I just, y'know... wanted to hear what you guys think..."

Nothing but heavy silence follows his feeble explanation, and Yosuke starts feeling more and more insecure the longer it goes on. Dammit - is there something wrong with him? He shouldn't be ready to go back to the other world so soon after... after Souji. Is that it? That must be what the others are thinking. Saki-senpai all over again. Who cares about the danger, he just wants some excitement, just wants to play the hero --

He thinks he feels him for a moment, deep in his core and surging up inside him to the point where he feels like he’s going to vomit. It isn’t until Naoto speaks up that he manages to fight the sensation back down.

“We’re so close,” she says, and though her tone is flatter and duller than usual, that thread of steely resolve still running through it calms his frayed nerves. “If we don’t go after Adachi now... If we don’t finish this...”

"I don't think I could live with myself if we didn't," says Chie. "Not after we've come so far..."

Yukiko nods. "Yeah. If not now, when?" 

Another murmur of agreement passes around the circle, and Yosuke feels the invisible pressure on his shoulders ease a little, letting him stand up straighter. It's the right answer, and the right thing to do -- he knows it himself, but it still makes him feel better to hear it from someone else. "All right. Let's not... rush it or anything though. Let's make sure we're prepared this time."

Kanji makes an impatient noise and turns that sharp glare on him again. "What're you sayin'? We've got no idea what that guy's up to in there, and this damn fog's just getting worse every day. We gotta go after him before we don't got a choice anymore!"

Yosuke's weakened grip on his resolve is further shaken by that harshness, and he doesn't know how to respond. Before he can either snipe back or give in, Rise interjects hesitantly on his behalf. "Hey, Kanji-kun... Yosuke-senpai's still hurt, y'know? We shouldn't be hasty..."

There's a moment when it seems like Kanji's about to argue; Yosuke casts his eyes to the ground, not wanting to see the expression on his face if he does. Rise's not wrong, exactly. His left arm and leg are still scraped and bruised and sore, and half of his body creaks like rusted metal when he moves -- but that pain is already becoming a distant ache, far away and clouded by the fog of pain medication and his new reality. When he looks up again, Kanji's expression is slightly less sour, and more apologetic.

"...Sorry, Senpai," he mumbles. 

Yosuke shakes his head. "No, it's fine. I can still fight. I just don't want us all to end up completely wrecked if we can help it."

"Let's be cautious, then," says Naoto. "We'll go in today, as far as we feel it's safe to do so, and come back if it seems we're in trouble."

"Yeah," Yukiko agrees. "We won't let Adachi lure us in there on his terms. We'll take it at our pace."

With that settled, they agree to go to Junes together and start their last journey into the other world. As they leave the rooftop and file down the narrow stairwell leading back into the school, Kanji stops halfway down, letting the others get ahead of him and letting Yosuke walk right into his back.

"Argh - hey...”

Kanji doesn't turn around. "Are you sure you're serious about this, Senpai?"

Yosuke's mouth goes dry. He just stands there, eyes fixed at a point right between Kanji's shoulder blades, not saying anything until the others have rounded the corner and gone on ahead of them, out of sight and out of earshot. He's not sure what's got Kanji acting like this, but he's absolutely scared shitless to ask. Now that they’re alone, suddenly all he can think about is every jerkish thing he’s ever said to him, and Kanji certainly has every right to pay him back for it. Now’s as good a time as any. 

"Of course I am," he answers at last, though it comes out sounding considerably more feeble than it had in his head. “How could I not be?”

Kanji turns his head at that. Not all the way around -- just slightly to one side, more like he’d started to look back and thought better of it. He opens his mouth and Yosuke waits for him to speak, but he doesn’t; he just grunts and shoves his hands into his pockets, and then makes his lumbering way down the stairs after their friends.

Yosuke waits until he’s gone around the corner to exhale the shaky breath held tightly in his lungs.





As hard as every day without Souji has been until now, Yosuke quickly discovers that nothing has been harder without him than battle.

He drags himself back to his feet with a groan and makes the mistake of trying to look around before his head has stopped spinning. For an instant he can't make sense of the landscape, losing track of where rubble and asphalt and police tape bleeds into the hellish red and black sky, and he blindly gropes around for something to hold on to before he falls again. It's Teddie he stumbles into, and he tucks his head down into the fur of his big bear suit until the merry-go-round sensation passes.

It was never this hard before, he thinks bleakly. How the hell are they going to be able to do this?

"Senpai, are you okay?!" Rise calls over their weird mental connection. "I-I was trying to warn Naoto-kun about the other shadow... I guess I missed that one. I'm really sorry..."

"Don't worry," Yosuke assures her aloud. He cringes when he rolls his shoulder and feels something grinding there that probably shouldn't be, but bites back the pained noise that wants to follow. "You're doing your best. Keep it up..."

They trudge ahead into Magatsu Inaba, but it's already clear to everyone that they won't get far today. They're swimming against the current, struggling to overcome even the weakest of shadows they encounter, to the point where they have to stop for a rest after almost every fight. There's no momentum. Nothing's clicking into place like it should. Nothing's coordinated, and Rise can't spool out information fast enough for them to do anything with it. Their attacks are flying all over the place, and their attendant frustration with their progress is only making it worse. 

Yosuke grits his teeth and raises his kunai when they round a corner and come into range of the next group of shadows. They can't waste time like this. What is it going to take to get back to where they should be?

Chie lunges for the shadow closest to her without waiting for anyone else and manages to get in one good kick before it can gather enough of its wits to retaliate. Teddie's right behind her with his claws flashing, then Kanji swinging his shield in a wild arc after him, and Yosuke's momentary sense of victory is dashed when he notices that the battlefield has descended into chaos. He stops short of summoning Jiraiya, not wanting to start carelessly flinging spells into the fray and risk hitting his friends, and Yukiko hesitates next to him as well.

"Rise," he calls out, "see if you can find us an opening to attack."

"Got it," she responds. But instead of feeding him the data he needs, a second later he hears her gasp, "No, wait, Kanji-kun--!"

Yosuke sees the blinding blue light of Kanji summoning Rokuten-Maoh, then the crackling Maziodyne spell he flings at the shadows. And then, before it even registers in his mind that he needs to get the hell out of the way, the spell bounces off the enemy and comes arcing back toward all of them. 

He doesn't remember hitting the ground -- just the pain, the live-wire spark of the spell and a smoke-and-burnt-ozone smell on the air that makes him queasy. Through the ringing in his ears he thinks he hears Chie screaming, and when he cracks his eyes open he sees her (right next to him, she sounds so far away), cradling Yukiko's bloody and limp body in her arms.

"--Hang on, Yukiko, please just look at me--!"

"Someone help them!" Rise's voice, at least, is unaffected by the tinny noise in his ears. The panic he senses there forces his eyes the rest of the way open and his heart to beat faster. "Yukiko-senpai's hurt...!"

He pushes himself to his hands and knees, every limb trembling with the effort. Blood's running warm and wet down his face and dripping into the dust by his hands. In his peripheral vision, he sees Naoto firing her gun at the encroaching shadows, and then summoning Yamato Takeru when it becomes clear that won't be enough.

"Guys, watch out!” Rise screams. “It's coming again!" 

Yosuke sees it, the shadow closest to them rearing back and readying itself to cast a spell of its own. They won't survive another hit like that. If Yukiko doesn’t come back to her senses --

I want you to show me your potential.

Yosuke's head jerks up. Shit. Of course -

The glowing tarot card appears in front of him instantly. The pain in his shoulder is nearly unbearable, but he sits up and slashes it with his kunai in one vicious strike, and shouts "Garuda!" as the large birdlike Persona appears and blankets all of them in a protective, healing light.

The shadow's attack still lands, and it's brutal - but all of them are able to get to their feet when it's done, even Yukiko, glasses and headband knocked clear from the last blow. Yosuke stands back and heals them all again, and the others lunge ahead on the offensive with renewed strength and vigor.

When the creatures are dead, Chie's the first to turn to him. "How did you do that?" she rasps, her brows knitted together in worry and pain. "Yosuke - you..."

"Yosuke! You're like Sensei now?" asks Teddie. "What happened?!"

He can't bring himself to look at any of them as they all gather around demanding answers. This isn't what he'd wanted at all. They don't need this reminder of Souji all the time, and he doesn't need to use them - dozens of Personas, other selves that don't feel right because they're not him, they're Souji...

"I'm... sorry," he starts out lamely. "I didn't - know how to tell you guys. I didn't want you to worry about it..."

"Perhaps we should discuss it on the way back," suggests Naoto. "I think we've done enough for today."

They agree to that, and a few moments later, they're standing back in Mayumi Yamano's creepy room after Teddie warps them all to the exit. They trudge back to the entrance hall in a quiet group, Yosuke dreading having to explain how he inherited the Wild Card in any great detail every step of the way, but no one seems willing to bring it up until they're safe on the other side.

He and Kanji are the last to leave through the stack of televisions in the entrance hall. But just like he had in the stairwell at school earlier that day, Kanji stops when it's his turn, letting the others get ahead of him and leaving only Yosuke behind.

"That Persona...” says Kanji quietly. “Souji-senpai gave it to you, didn’t he? You’ve got the others, too, right?” When Yosuke doesn’t respond, Kanji heaves a sigh and shakes his head. “Y'should have said something, Senpai."

Yosuke flinches. "I know. I'm sorry, I really am. I just... I didn't want to have to use them. God, I... I didn't want..."

"Dammit, will you shut the hell up with that?!"

Yosuke's entire body locks up as Kanji whirls on him, his eyes wild and dark and angry. 

"It ain't about what you want anymore, Senpai. It's about us - about all of us!"

"H-hey, what's gotten into you, anyway?" Yosuke finally bites back, unwilling to take Kanji's accusations quietly any longer. It hurts, dammit, it hurt to see that Persona come out of him, and he can't - he just can't... "You've been looking to pick a fight with me all day. If you've got something to say, just say it, dammit!"

His voice gives out on the last word, draining all the venom out of his retort and leaving him feeling like he's on the edge of tears. He's too tired for this. If only this weren't happening. If only Souji were here. If only, if only, if only...

"I know what you’re doin’, Senpai,” Kanji says, surprisingly calmly. "And I think - I think it’s really good of you."

He blinks, taken totally by surprise by that statement. "Huh? What do you...?"

"We were a mess today - no point in pretendin' we weren't. And no one wants to say it but it's... it's just so friggin' hard without him, y'know? We relied on him so much. And you - you’re tryin’ not to do things like Souji-senpai did, and... I get it. I do, a hundred percent. But right now you gotta knock it the fuck off.”

Yosuke’s jaw drops.

"We can't do this thing right without someone giving orders. We're just - trippin' over each other out there and it's gonna end bad if we don't get it together fast." Kanji sighs heavily, but he's still clearly tense, his shoulders set rigidly and hands balled into fists as he struggles to express himself. "Senpai gave you all of those Personas for a reason. You. I dunno if you’re scared of replacin' him or pissin' him off or what, but like it or not he wanted you to step up and fill in for him. So you’d better pull your fucking act together and lead us, dammit!”

He feels gutted - like Kanji plunged a fist into his stomach and let everything pour out onto the floor, every sick feeling and tension and worry he's ever had. In another terrifying, unstoppable moment, he can feel his chest tighten, feel his face slowly crumple as he finally loses it, as he drops his kunai on the ground and covers his face with his hands to hide the tears sliding down his cheeks. He hears Kanji make a small noise of surprise, and then he can't hear anything as his nose and ears plug up and he's babbling out apologies over and over - and then soon, there's a large hand on his shoulder, steady and reassuring as he hunches over and sobs like the child he still is.

"I miss him, too," says Kanji, and the strain in his voice reminds Yosuke sharply that Kanji is younger than him. No matter how tough he looks on the outside - no matter how hard he tries to be strong - "Dammit..."

It takes several minutes for Yosuke to calm down enough to stand up straight again, to take off his glasses and wipe his face on his uniform sleeve, heaving calming breaths to slow down his pounding heart. Kanji won't quite meet his eyes; but from what he can see, Yosuke thinks they look suspiciously tired and red-rimmed.

"...Thanks, man," Yosuke sniffs and mumbles. He clears his throat and puts his glasses back on, mortified at the pathetic display he’s made of himself and eager not to make Kanji feel any more awkward than he probably does. 

"...Yeah," says Kanji. He lets go of Yosuke's shoulder, and rubs the back of his neck as he gestures toward the televisions. "We should go. Okay?"

Yosuke nods. "You go ahead. I... I have something to do first."

Kanji tilts his head a little uncertainly at that. "Senpai..."

"It's not - I'm fine," he insists. "...Thanks, Kanji. I mean it. I'm not going anywhere. You were right - Souji trusted me, and I... I need to step up. So... that's what I'm gonna have to do."

Kanji snorts softly and gives him a crooked little half-smile before turning toward the exit. "...Glad I could talk some sense into you. But if you don't come out the other side in the next ten minutes I'm comin' back in here to beat it into you instead."

Yosuke laughs, in spite of himself. After Kanji's gone through the portal back to the real world, he draws a deep, steadying breath, and turns and looks at the glowing blue door to the Velvet Room.






It's a dream this time, he's sure of it, but what does it matter? It seems like the Velvet Room is real even when he's dreaming, so - six of one, half a dozen of the other. It certainly feels real, the way he has to squint away from the bright light of the tarot card he produces - the one he'd fused with Igor earlier today, after Kanji had left him in the entrance hall at his behest.

The warmth that sprouts and blossoms behind his navel when Sebastian smiles at him feels pretty real, too. Whatever that means.

"It's perfect," says Sebastian, as he records Thoth in the Compendium the same way he had with Garuda. "You're pretty good at this."

Yosuke shrugs. They’re alone in the train compartment again, and it’s weird trying to deflect a compliment from someone who’s basically a stranger.  "Yeah, well... the last one ended up coming in handy."

"Oh? I'm glad.  It's your destiny, but I'm happy I could help you in some small way. That's what I'm here for, after all."

"It's not... really mine..."

"It is now."

"And what if I can't do it?" Yosuke bites his lip as he waits for a response, but Sebastian simply looks at him, a curious furrow in his brow as he politely waits for him to go on.  "I mean... it was easy before. I helped out, I followed orders - I just did what I had to do. I dunno - I guess I wanted to be the big hero back then, but - I don't think anyone's ever depended on me like this before. What if I can't..." He swallows the growing lump in his throat.  "What if I just disappoint..."

Sebastian's response is to run his gloved hand over the picture of Thoth in the Compendium, still sitting open on his lap.  That tiny, secretive smile of his comes back, and he says rather cheerfully, "You've been lucky: two good cards in a row. First you found hope again, and now it seems it's time to make the transition from being led to being a leader. Things might not be as dark as they seem right now."

He shuts the Compendium with a heavy thud, and for a painful, fleeting instant, that smile turns surprisingly familiar and affectionate.

"And you could never disappoint me, Yosuke."

Yosuke's mouth opens silently.

"You're getting pretty good at this."  Sebastian sets the Compendium down on the table and folds his hands in his lap instead. "Let's try something a little more challenging next time, shall we? How about a Thor that absorbs wind?"

"Souji..."

"I'll be looking forward to it."

Yosuke reaches out a hand, his breath coming suddenly faster. "Souji, wait..."

There's almost no sensation of waking this time as he leaves the Velvet Room and finds himself on the couch in his living room, a thin blanket draped over him up to his chest and an arm half-raised to the ceiling. He's utterly calm, possessed by none of the panic that usually grips him as he rouses from sleep -- but nonetheless profoundly sad as he lets his hand fall back down onto the cushions.

He rolls over onto his side, pulls the blanket up to his chin, and lays awake until fog-diffused light starts to creep in through the curtains in the morning.

Chapter Text

Dec 14, 2011

He’s slower to get to school now that he walks everywhere, so he starts leaving extra early on Wednesday morning so that he can take his time getting there. The streets are eerily deserted, empty of students who either aren’t yet headed out this early or simply aren’t going to school anymore with the town blanketed in cold, thick fog. Yosuke can’t blame them. His body feels even more sluggish than usual this morning, slower than the early hour and yesterday’s training run can fully account for, and he allows himself one brief moment of longing for his bed before turning his thoughts toward getting through the rest of the day.

“Ah!” a voice calls out behind him, and he turns to see who else is up and moving at this hour. It’s Chie, dressed in a tracksuit instead of her uniform and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and she gives him a little wave as she jogs up alongside him and slows to match his pace. “Morning, Yosuke.”

“Hey. You’re up early.”

“Hah, yep! No time to train after school now, so... gotta do it first thing in the morning.” She eyes his school bag and notes, “You’re headed in awfully early...”

“Mmm. Felt like taking my time today.” 

"Ah, I see..." Strangely, she sounds a little disappointed, like somehow she should have known he's suddenly being responsible and walking to school on time -- and alone -- now that he doesn't have a bike anymore. He doesn’t get it. It’s not like it’s been terrible or he’s been secretly suffering because of it, so why would she be worried? Despite the fact that he's been friends with her the longest out of any of their group, Yosuke feels like he doesn't quite understand the way she thinks sometimes. "So, hey, are we going over to the other side today?" 

"Yeah, if you guys are up for it."

"Of course! I was just thinking... urgh." She laughs off her own idea before he can hear it. "Ah, no, forget I said anything."

"Huh? No, what were you going to say?"

"Nothing!"

An irritated scowl crosses his face before he can stop it. "All right, sorry I asked..." he grumbles, and then he immediately regrets it when he sees her guilty expression. He hefts his bag awkwardly and starts trying to think of how he can change the subject when she speaks up again and saves him the trouble.

"It's just - it's kinda weird out here by myself. Way too quiet, y'know? And we gotta keep up our strength, so I was thinking you should train a little with me. Like - in the mornings or something."

He blinks. "Huh? Oh - uh. Sure?"

She looks faintly surprised by his acceptance. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean - why, though? I think we'll do a lot better on the other side than we did yesterday, so..."

"Hey, we can always improve!" she says, clapping him on the shoulder. When she doesn't let go right away, he sends her a curious sidelong glance. "And I have to make sure you're keeping up," she adds, rather more seriously than she probably means to. "We're counting on you now."

Yosuke resists the urge to look away. He grips the strap on his bag tightly in his hands, and nods instead. 

Chie nods back, smiling a little, apparently satisfied with the way that conversation had gone. “Okay then! I gotta go home and get ready. See you in class!”

They wave goodbye and she jogs off again through the fog. Yosuke watches her go until he can’t see her anymore, feeling like she’d taken what little cheer there was to be had with her when she’d gone. 




Dec 15, 2011

The train compartment is eerily silent and nearly pitch black, save for a dim light that comes in through the window and hits the empty seat opposite him. Igor isn't here again.  There's no sense of forward motion, no noise from the tracks outside - nothing. The table is bare, the Compendium missing. Empty.

But he's not alone.  Someone's at his left side, sitting so close their elbows and knees touch.  Sebastian, probably -- but Yosuke doesn’t dare turn his head to look.

"You keep coming back," murmurs Sebastian. One at a time, in Yosuke’s peripheral vision, he peels off his gloves and sets them down neatly on his lap.  "Why is that?"

Yosuke clamps his mouth shut in a firm frown and resolves not to respond.  A newly-bare hand slides across the meagre space between them and covers his own, clenches it into a tight fist for him.  The skin that touches his is freezing.

“You don’t have to.  You could just stop.”

He tenses tight as a coiled spring when Sebastian’s free hand reaches up across his chest, and makes icy contact with his right cheek.  The hand applies pressure, trying to turn his face toward him, but Yosuke resists, terrified of what he’ll see if he lets that happen.

“Yosuke...”

“Stop it,” Yosuke rasps, when he isn’t holding his breath.  “What’s wrong with you?  You aren’t -- you’re not him...”

“It seems to me like the only person who needs to be convinced of that,” whispers the voice at his ear, “is you.”

That startles Yosuke enough to turn his head at last, and he’s deeply relieved to see it really is Sebastian sitting next to him, and not some kind of nightmarish vision of Souji like he’d feared.  They sit there facing each other, frozen in place, nose-to-nose, Sebastian’s eyes shining golden in the dark like a Shadow’s.  He’s absolutely otherworldly, Yosuke thinks.  Despite their closeness he can’t see his reflection in those eyes, can’t feel any breath at all on his lips but his own.  The cold hand at his cheek slides down his jaw, his neck, his chest, and then grasps the front of his uniform jacket -- and then Sebastian leans forward and his mouth touches Yosuke’s in a soft, tentative kiss.  Yosuke’s eyes widen and his body goes still, but otherwise he doesn’t respond.  He does absolutely nothing as the other boy presses a slow series of chaste kisses against his lips, over and over, and when the last kiss takes a turn toward searching and deep, he opens his mouth beneath his and lets him do that, too.  It tastes like nothing, like water, so subtle and light like it isn’t even happening -- until suddenly his mouth is filled with a sharp, metallic tang and he jerks back, bewildered and alarmed.  

He feels cold and damp all the way down to his bones.  His left arm and leg are singing with pain and he winces and whines when Sebastian tugs on the front of his jacket and leans back, pulling him forward so that when he’s sprawled on his back on the seat Yosuke has to brace himself on the cushion and lean down over him, or simply fall.  

The darkness gives way to streetlamps, the cushion turns to asphalt.  The arm he supports himself with burns with bleeding scrapes and bruises that haven’t formed yet and tiny pebbles embedded in his skin.  The silence is shattered as the compartment is suddenly filled with the blare of sirens and the rush of people talking, wheezing, crying, shouting--

Sebastian’s eyes are still open and gazing up at him - grey instead of gold now and deeply, uncharacteristically afraid.  A thin trail of blood runs from his mouth down his cheek and pools on the pavement beneath him.  There’s no longer anything in Yosuke’s world but hands: the ones on his shoulders and around his chest trying to pull him away, but also the trembling one that grips him by his jacket and draws him close, and the one that keeps his fist closed around the small blue key pressed into his palm.

He’s almost late to meet Chie that morning because he can’t find his phone. He tears his whole room apart in his search -- quite a feat in the darkness and while trying not to wake Teddie -- and he looks in his closet, his dresser, and the pile of laundry on the floor before finally finding it lost in the tangle of blankets on his bed. He breathes a sigh of relief to feel its weight in his hand, reassuring like a lifeline. He doesn’t dare leave the house without it now.

Chie seems genuinely surprised to see him when he meets her at the door of her house. He’s not sure why. Didn’t he agree to this? A long history of being desperate to prove himself worthy of the “friends” he’d had before coming to Inaba has left him in the habit of not breaking plans unless he can’t help it. Whatever the reason, she seems to forget it as she grabs a bottle of water from her kitchen counter and urges him off toward the sidewalk.

Even though they’re all in decent shape from fighting in the other world, Yosuke has always hated running. It absolutely bores him to tears, and it’s more the dullness of the activity than the pain in his leg that makes him want to call it quits soon after they’ve started. Chie doesn’t seem to share his dislike. She chats animatedly with him as they run and waves to an elderly man they pass on the road, apparently in her element despite the god-awful hour and miserable weather. Seeing her like that ensures he keeps his mouth shut, no matter how much he wants to complain. He has to keep up.

They stop for water at the gazebo on the flood plain. It’s lighter now -- he can see the hazy outline of the sun rising on the other side of the Samegawa, so dull behind the blanket of fog that he can look straight at it without squinting. Yosuke sits and watches her as she bounces from foot to foot and practices her kicks, an endless fountain of energy. 

"You can't be tired already," she admonishes, pausing to wipe her forehead on the back of her wristband before resuming her kicks. "We've still gotta make it back home."

"I'm not a morning person," he groans. "How are you even awake yet?"

"Early to bed, early to rise. You stay up way too late. Speaking of..." She stops kicking the air and turns to him. "What's up with that text you sent last night?"

He frowns. "I didn't send you anything."

"Yeah you did. Look." She digs her phone out of her pocket, finds the offending message and shows it to him. 

Hanamura Yosuke
Dec 15 2011 - 03:32

please tell me it isn’t you


"Are we fighting and I don't know it yet?" Chie laughs nervously. "That kind of freaked me out this morning, not gonna lie..."

That’s definitely his name in the sender’s field on Chie’s phone, but that doesn’t explain anything. Wordlessly he finds his own phone in his pocket and navigates to his outbox. Same message, 3:32 a.m. Chie Satonaka in the header. Why would he have--

Oh. Yosuke’s heart sinks when he remembers: he’d had a nightmare last night. It comes lurching back to him like a monster out of the recesses of his memory, and he quickly flips his phone shut again to banish it. Satonaka. The name Seta comes right after hers in his contact list. He must have done it sometime during the night.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "...Think I texted the wrong person."

Chie frowns and sits down beside him on the gazebo bench. "...Is everything okay?" 

Everything besides the obvious, he assumes she means. He's actually not overly worried about skirting around that issue with her -- she's as clumsy with words and emotions as he is, so he feels pretty safe that she won't try to get him talking about anything he doesn't want to. Which, weirdly enough, does kind of make him want to.

“...I think I’m going crazy,” he admits. He laughs a little, just because of how strangely relieving it is to say it out loud. “I keep having these weird dreams about... someone who looks like Souji. Like... I know it’s not him, not really. I can tell the difference. But sometimes I can’t help but have this little bit of hope that... maybe he’s not really... Ugh, I don’t know. I can’t even really sleep anymore because even when it’s not him, it’s always -- something, y’know? It’s... it’s fucking awful and I think I’m crazy because I -- I want to see him. Even if he’s not real, even if he’s not really...”

He’s aware he’s making absolutely no sense, it’s just babbling that he’ll blame on his fatigue later if it ever comes up again, and he turns to look at her and laugh it off and suggest they get moving before it’s too late to finish their run and then get to school -- but the look on her face brings him up short. She’s staring at him, quietly horrified, her eyes wide and openly scared, and he grimaces and quickly looks away. Dammit. Souji hadn’t just been his friend, and yet here he is just... He tries to think of what it would feel like if someone else had just told him they were secretly deluding themselves that maybe his best friend was still alive somewhere, on some plane of existence, and the idea makes him sick.

“Shit,” he mutters, “I’m sorry... Forget all that. I never should have said anything.”

She doesn’t respond, choosing instead to draw her knees up to her chin so her heels rest on the edge of the bench. She rests her shoulder against his, and even though the contact brings back flashes of his nightmare in a terrifying rush, his surprise overrides much of that fear. He can’t remember the last time they’d just hung out and not been at each other’s throats, and honestly it’s kind of weirding him out. But it makes sense, he supposes: if nothing else, losing one friend has certainly made him desperate to keep the ones he has left. He’s probably not alone in thinking that way.

“You’re not crazy,” she finally says, as she wraps her arms around the tops of her knees and puts her head down on top of them. “We all want to see him again.”

But you’re not, Yosuke thinks and doesn’t say.

“But he left us something to do, so... we gotta do it.” She buries her face down into her arms for a long moment, and when she resurfaces, she’s smiling, even if it seems a little strained to him. “You know... he showed me that I was strong enough to protect the things I care about. I have to hang on to that. What kind of friend would I be if I let him down?”

“Yeah,” says Yosuke. “I know what you mean.”

Abruptly, she gets to her feet, clenching one hand into a firm fist and nodding to herself as she seems to make a decision. "All right, that's it then. I've made up my mind."

"About what?"

She plants her hands on her hips and faces him. "About you. If Souji-kun wanted you to fill in for him, then I'm going to back you up with everything I've got. I'm going to make sure we see the end of this thing. Just leave it to me."

And it really is as simple as that to her. She smiles down at him, seemingly possessed of a confidence Yosuke has always found to be just beyond his reach, and he's struck by how much seeing that confidence in her reminds him of Souji in that moment -- but also, he thinks as she extends a hand toward him, like he had to Souji so many months ago, how much she reminds him of himself. He isn’t stupid -- that had been a deep, honest fear for his sanity he’d seen on her face just now, and he knows she has to be working overtime to project even the slightest amount of good cheer after everything -- but she’s trying. He isn’t going to crush all of that effort. He’ll let her cling to her defenses, if she’ll let him cling to his.

"...Thanks, Chie," he says, and he can't help but smile back as he accepts her offered hand and shakes it. "I'll be counting on you."

She grins. "Of course!"

He stands up, finally feeling ready to get moving again -- in more ways than one. He'd spent so long feeling so alone, but... he's got a really good group of friends. It's terrifying to think about, but in the end, there had been nothing exceptionally special about what had happened to Souji. It could have been any one of them. It still could be. He no longer wants to take any of them for granted. So as Chie stretches out and prepares to resume their run, he fidgets a little and then says hesitantly, "Hey, if you don't mind... think I could tag along tomorrow, too?"

He almost regrets saying it for a second; such a wild flurry of emotion flickers across her face that he's scared he's somehow ruined the moment, that she'll suddenly break down and run away so soon after professing that she'd stand with him. But the moment passes after her expression settles on a wide smile and she punches him hard in the arm.

"Only if you can keep up with me this time!" she proclaims, and starts jogging away without him.

He runs after her without a second thought.





Thor’s tarot card appears between them, casting an unearthly glow throughout the train compartment and over Sebastian’s stoic face. He smiles, thanks Yosuke for what he’s managed to create for him, and takes a moment to record the Persona in the Compendium.

There’s no mention of Yosuke’s nightmare, of course. It hadn’t been real. Is it a good thing or a bad thing that he knows what’s real and what’s not? Knowing it wasn’t real after the fact certainly doesn’t seem to prevent him from experiencing those delusions in the first place, so he’s starting to think maybe being able to make the distinction doesn’t even matter. 

“You seem preoccupied,” Sebastian notes, without looking up. “Is something the matter?”

Yosuke jumps a little, feels heat rush to his face -- at being caught distracted, he tells himself, and definitely not because he’d been recalling the less horrific parts of his dream just now. “I’m fine,” he insists. “Just, um... tired. There’s so much to do. Sometimes I worry we won’t be able to beat him...”

“There’s no need to be hesitant,” says Sebastian, closing the Compendium and turning his attention toward him. “The Chariot assures you of success, allows you to focus on achieving your goal because that’s what needs to be done. You’ll have the support to see your task through to the very end -- if that’s what you desire.”

“...Why wouldn’t I want that?”

“You can’t think of a reason?”

Yosuke lowers his eyes a little as he thinks, studies the way Sebastian’s necktie disappears beneath the neatly-buttoned lapels of his coat. All of his nearly-depleted energy has been focused on solving the case, this one last thing -- this one thing Souji had entrusted to him. They’re going to do it because there’s nothing else todo, no other option now, and then...

And then what? A cold terror grips his heart when the thought occurs to him. What is he going to do when he doesn’t even have this anymore? 

“I’m supposed to be a... neutral influence,” Sebastian says softly, calming the storm of his thoughts. He reaches out to the tarot card that still hangs suspended between them and plucks it out of the air with this thumb and forefinger, examining it thoughtfully. “Someone who can give you a nudge in the right direction, but ultimately must stand back and let you choose. When you show me these cards, however, I feel... strange. I want you to succeed, even though whether or not you do will have no effect on myself or my master.” Sebastian frowns a little. “I... don’t want you to come to harm.”

That quiet admission and the hesitant expression that crosses Sebastian’s face makes the warmth in Yosuke’s cheeks flare again. He ducks his head to hide it. This whole thing is still weird, but it’s... easier, like this. Harder to mistake this boy for Souji, when Souji was never unsure about anything. “Thanks, Sebastian,” he responds quietly; testing the name out to see how it fits. “You’ve already helped me, so... I’ll keep trying.”

“...When you were here last, you called me by another name.”

Yosuke swallows a lump in his throat that feels roughly the size of a watermelon, and nods. “Yeah.”

“The person whose face I’ve borrowed?”

Another nod. Yosuke can’t stop his shoulders from hitching up, or his fingers from clenching nervously against the soft velvet seat cushion under him. “Sorry. He’s...” The word gets stuck at the back of his tongue for a few seconds - maybe lodging itself there so he won’t ever have to speak it. “Gone. It’s hard to accept, so... when I see you...”

Sebastian flinches. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

Yosuke shakes his head. “It’s... Ha, it’s kind of funny. The more I see you, the more I start to think you’re different. The less you remind me of him. It’s hard, but... maybe you’re supposed to help me with that, too.”

That assurance doesn’t seem to ease Sebastian’s mind, however. He turns his pale face to gaze out the window while Yosuke flicks his eyes to every dark corner of the compartment and prays he can hold it together long enough to get out of here. It isn’t until he manages to compose himself again that he notices his companion still hasn’t. 

“Hey,” he says slowly, “are you okay?” 

Sebastian glances at him. “Forgive me,” he starts. “But can you tell me what happened to him?”

Yosuke’s entire body jolts - a real, physical reaction he can’t suppress. It feels to him like the temperature in the room plunges as his body and brain come screeching to such a sudden halt that he feels dizzy for a second. He grips the edge of the seat hard, and waits it out, trying to rationalize the request. It’s not impossible. He’s done it plenty of times now, for the doctors and for the police - and also for people who’ve made it harder for him to do it. For their friends. ForDojima. 

“There was an accident,” he starts out - but after a pause that stretches far too long, he sees flashes of it -- of Sebastian lying on the seat, of Souji lying on the pavement, and finds himself shaking his head. “Sorry, I... I can’t. Maybe some other time.”

Sebastian nods, and accepts that without argument. 

He asks for another Persona, like he always does -- Raphael this time, one that knows Samarecarm -- and sends Yosuke on his way. On the other side of the Velvet Room door, the others are standing around and preparing for battle, apparently unaware that he’d even been gone. He’d have to ask Igor how exactly that worked sometime.

“You ready?” Chie asks him, already bouncing back and forth energetically. “I’ve got your back!”

Yosuke nods. “Ready when you are.”

Their progress is slow that day, but easier. They’ll get the hang of this, he thinks -- and for once he actually believes it instead of just hoping.

Chapter Text

December 16, 2011

By the time the end of classes rolls around on Friday, Yosuke’s starting to lose steam. This morning’s run had been harder than the last -- he feels achy all over and his bad leg hurts more than usual. Pushing too hard, he figures. Yesterday had consisted of training with Chie in the morning, lectures he could barely pay attention to all day, and a trip into the other world after school, and he’d been so exhausted by the end of it all that he’d fallen face-down into bed immediately after devouring the leftover dinner his parents had saved for him. Thanks to all the physical activity it had been the first day in over a week he’d had much of an appetite; they’d seemed happy about that, at least.

He takes the stairs to the first floor slowly, keeping a firm grip on the railing and letting other students pass him on the way down. His left leg trembles under his weight. No good. There’s nothing to do but stay off it for the rest of the day and hope it’s better by tomorrow. The others will have his head if they catch him trying to go into the other world like this. 

Pushing too hard. But what else can he do?

As he’s heading for the door he glances toward the shoe lockers. Souji’s has been gradually stuffed full over the past week, filled with flowers and trinkets and sealed notes that won’t ever be read. It’s not surprising; he’d been well-liked by almost everyone who’d known him. The locker is overflowing, errant flower stems poking out of the box or already fallen to the floor, cards wedged in every which way so they’ll fit. Yosuke examines the offerings as he shuffles past and wonders who each gift is from, and whether any of them are from people he knows or if this is all the work of strangers. 

Then he spots it -- there’s a letter in his own shoe locker, too.

Yosuke halts and stares a hole through it. He’s never gotten anything in his locker before that wasn’t some kind of passive-aggressive thanks for ruining my family’s business, Junesbullshit, and even that had stopped after he’d started hanging out with Souji. He’s certainly never gotten a confession or one of those cutesy love notes sealed in a fancy-looking envelope. He’s not sure what this is, and he examines it closely as he picks it up. There’s nothing overly special or elaborate about it, just a small, sealed, plain white envelope with a subtle, flowery design on the upper right corner and the word ‘Senpai’ written in feminine handwriting. He glances around in all directions, feeling certain that someone’s playing some kind of joke on him, but none of the handful of students still hanging around are paying him any attention. He shoves the letter into his bag and leaves in a hurry anyway, just in case.

He puts as much distance between himself and the school as he can manage before his leg and his curiosity both finally get the better of him. He sits down on the stone steps that lead down to the Samegawa’s riverbed and pulls out the envelope, tears it open and unfolds the crisp sheet of paper inside. The note barely takes up any space on the page, even written as it is in large, flowing handwriting, and it only takes him a few seconds to read the whole thing.


Senpai,

Even though I know you won’t respond, I think it will help me to write it down. I just 
wanted you to know that you don’t need to worry about me. You don’t need to worry about 
any of us. Everyone is doing their best. We’re going to be fine. 

Everything is going to be okay.



Rise

He reads the note so quickly that he’s reached the last line before he realizes it was never meant for him at all. When he sees the signature at the bottom he throws it down like it had grown teeth and bitten him, embarrassed at having read something that he had never been meant to see. It must have been accidentally put back in his locker by someone else, he thinks, picturing Souji’s overflowing one and the flowers and notes on the floor underneath it. 

He’s been asking a lot of Rise. She’s been so strong, and almost hyper-vigilant in the other world now, and it’s not hard to understand why. But maybe she’s not doing as well as she seems. And why would she be anyway? Nobody else is.

Yosuke picks up the discarded letter and reads it again (guiltily, but he figures the damage is already done). He has to put this back where he found it. He’ll need a new envelope for that though. He’s pretty sure he’s seen this type being sold at Shiroku, so he decides to go there on his way home and buy some. 

Maybe he’ll write his own letter, too. Ha, yeah -- and say what, exactly? Sorry I insisted on taking you home. Sorry I let it happen. Sorry I didn’t say goodbye, I didn’t think you’d-- There’s nothing he can say now that will make anything better. Rise’s a nice girl, but she’s fooling herself if she thinks writting a letter like that is going to change anything.





It turns out his suspicion was right, and he finds the envelopes he’s looking for near the counter at Shiroku. He’s standing there holding the new package of envelopes in one hand and comparing it to the one that had contained Rise’s letter in the other, just to make sure, when a blur of motion at the edge of his vision catches his attention. He looks up, sees Rise standing at his shoulder, and jumps a mile.

“H-hey!” he stammers, quickly hiding his hands. “What’re you doing here?”

“Hey, Senpai.” She lifts one delicate forearm, showing him the heavy plastic bag she has draped over it. “My grandmother asked me to make a delivery to old lady Shiroku. I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Ah... yeah, well, we uh, needed some supplies for our next run, so...”

Rise laughs lightly. “Senpai, you should have said something! There’s no reason for you to come all the way here when I practically live next door.”

“Oh? Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Do you want some help?”

“S-sure. I mean, if you have time...”

“Of course. Just give me a second to take care of this.”

As soon as she turns around and walks off to the back of the store where old lady Shiroku is busy cleaning, he shoves Rise’s envelope back into his bag and puts the pack he’d been looking at when she’d arrived back on its shelf. When she comes back, they spend almost half an hour weighing their funds against what they need, and finally walk out considerably poorer but with Yosuke’s bag stuffed full of various medicines.

“Seriously, Senpai,” says Rise, as they arrive at the front entrance of Marukyu Tofu and he prepares to leave her and continue on toward home. “It’s okay to rely on us a little, you know? Why don’t you let me or Kanji handle this from now on?”

Yosuke shrugs. “I guess I just... figured it’s my responsibility. But, hey, if it’s not any trouble...”

“Of course it’s trouble! That’s why we want to help.”

He laughs at that, and hefts his bag over his shoulder. He’ll have to walk around the block and go back for the envelopes, but he has to admit hanging out with Rise for a bit had been a nice distraction. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. See you tomorrow?”

She smiles broadly and nods, but when he turns to go, she makes an uncertain noise that draws his attention back to her.

“...Something wrong?” he asks.

Rise bites her lip. She’s staring at his bag; his hand twitches against it. “That envelope you had, back at Shiroku... That was mine, wasn’t it?”

Yosuke freezes up for a second as the initial burst of guilt rushes through him. He could lie, he supposes, but doesn’t see what good saving a little face will do in this situation, and in the end he feels horrible enough that he fishes it out of his bag and hands it over to her.

“I didn’t mean to read it,” he explains. “It was in my locker, honest, it just... probably fell out of his and someone put it in mine. I’m sorry.”

“His...?” she says with a frown. “You mean... Senpai’s?”

“Yeah.”

“...You know I wrote it to you, right?”

Yosuke blinks, and his mouth falls open a little as all that guilt abruptly starts churning into confusion instead. “You - you did?”

“I put it in the right locker, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t... oh.” A month ago he would have been flabbergasted and thrilled for Risette to write him a letter, but their current circumstances sap all that hypothetical excitement out of him, and all he can think to do is stand there in awkward silence. He stopped seeing her as her idol persona a while ago, but they’ve never been particularly close -- he has too many guilty memories of photoshopped pictures of her, and she’d mostly had eyes for Souji. Outside of the murders, what do they have to talk about? “...You could have just told me this, couldn’t you?”

She puffs up indignantly, arms crossing in front of her chest as she looks away. “Well - yeah, I guess... Hey, what are you complaining for?! I was trying to encourage you!”

“S-sorry! Not that I don’t appreciate it!”

He thinks he gets it, though. As friendly and outgoing as Rise is, standing there with that defensive posture she looks at least half as awkward as he feels. It’s a weird thing to just strike up a conversation about, he supposes. 

“I used to tell that to Senpai all the time,” she says fondly. “Not to worry about any of us. That I’d watch over everyone and we’d all be okay. I thought maybe you might need to hear it now, too.”

“...What about you?”

“Well... yeah. Senpai used to tell me the same thing. It used to help me a lot.” She lowers her eyes a little and her smile turns wistful. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Depending on someone you love and then... not having them around anymore. I really thought we’d have him forever.”

Yosuke doesn’t dispute her word choice; he can admit that much to himself, at least. When people like Souji come into your life that suddenly and leave it just as fast, you don’t screw around with stupid insecurities. He’ll never say as much in exactly those words, but he’d loved Souji like he loves all his friends -- and maybe a little more than that, if he’s going to be honest with himself. He doesn’t know, and probably never will now. It’s not the same kind of love as Rise’s, starry-eyed and exuberant, the kind he’d foolishly harboured for Saki-senpai; it’s not the same as Teddie’s, single-minded and utterly unconditional. But it’s not like any bond he’s ever had with anyone else, either. It was stronger and more intense and more honest and no one has ever made him feel so fucking awful and amazing and needed and confused in his life, but...

But it doesn’t matter anymore. Souji was someone important, someone special to him, and even if he’d never gotten the chance to say it, that’s all he needs to know for sure. He doesn’t want to pin his memory down and examine it like a pretty insect; he’s happier just letting it be whatever it was and leaving it at that.

“I... “ he starts at last, after he’s decided to keep all of those thoughts to himself. “We all depended on him. Maybe too much.”

Her smile falters a little. All the time she’s spent in Inaba is starting to show, he thinks; she’s not as good an actress now as she had been when she’d arrived. “He made it hard not to. He was always there to push us out the door, huh? I guess I just... thought he’d always still be there when I turned around. But it’s time for us to take care of ourselves, huh?”

“Not just ourselves,” he promises. “We’ll take care of each other.”

That renews her smile and makes it light up her entire face, makes it genuine again, and she nods firmly. “That’s right. You do what you have to, I’ll watch out for you guys, and everything will be okay. Oh, and you let me take care of shopping. Deal?”

She gives him back the envelope, which he packs away in his bag again. When he’s done with that, she sticks out her hand expectantly and he laughs as he shakes it to seal the promise. “Deal,” he swears.

Rise waves him off and he turns away from the front steps of Marukyu, toward the sidewalk and toward home, feeling buoyed by her good spirits. Unfortunately, he only makes it a few short steps down the road before he sees something up ahead that instantly quashes his newly-pleasant mood, and makes him stop dead in his tracks.

Sebastian is standing on the sidewalk, just outside the door to the Velvet Room.

Yosuke trembles with shock, feeling like he’s just walked into a living nightmare; the tiny shred of self-doubt that still wonders if he’s going crazy and if any of this is real -- any of it, the murders, Personas, Souji, everything -- gnaws at his brain as he stares at this manifestation from that other world, casually standing by the side of the road like he belongs there. He rushes forward just as Sebastian notices him and gives him a shallow, polite bow.

“Ah, I was hoping I would find you out here,” he says. “Do you mind if we--”

“What are you doing?!” Yosuke’s voice rises and breaks on the last word, his throat suddenly cramped and raw. He grabs Sebastian roughly by the elbow, sees and ignores the surprised and hurt look in his eyes as he shoves him back toward the Velvet Room door. “You idiot, you can’t be out here--”

“But I need to speak with--”

“What if someone sees you?!” He quickly checks for onlookers -- checks to make sure Rise isn’t watching, oh dammit -- but the heavy fog has driven most people back into their homes when they don’t need to be outside, and there’s no one there to see them. Regardless, he reaches for the door handle and bodily pushes Sebastian toward it before that can change. “C’mon, get back in there!”

“Please,” says Sebastian, bracing himself on the frame. “Let me--”

“Would you just--”

“I can’t.” 

Yosuke stops shoving him when he hears that note of distress in his voice, though he keeps a firm grip on his arm . “What do you mean you can’t? What’s wrong?”

Sebastian shakes his head. “We can’t talk in there. That’s why I had to come to you.”

“We can’t talk out here, either! You’re --” Yosuke exhales sharply and lowers his voice, trying to rein his temper back in. “You look like my friend, remember? He’s dead. You can’t let anyone see you like this.”

“No one can see me,” Sebastian assures him. “Nor you. Not while we stand here, just like no one can see the door. So may we talk now?”

“I - I dunno...” Despite the assurances, Yosuke can’t help but glance over his shoulder nervously every few seconds. Dammit, how does he know for sure they’re safe? If anyone sees him... “Why can’t we go in there like we usually do?”

“We might be overheard.”

“By who?”

“My master.”

Yosuke’s grip on Sebastian’s arm tightens for a second. He’s noticed that Sebastian usually prefers to talk with him when Igor isn’t around, but sometimes they talk a little while he’s there, too, and he never interjects while they do it. He isn’t sure what to think of Igor, exactly -- he’s weird, but helpful, and he certainly hasn’t done anything yet to make Yosuke wary of him -- but the thought that they shouldn’t speak freely in his presence hasn’t crossed his mind until now. 

“I understand your hesitation,” says Sebastian, shrugging his arm free of Yosuke’s hand when he doesn’t let go on his own. “Let’s compromise. I’ll take you somewhere else where we can speak privately.”

He doesn’t wait for an agreement. In another moment he opens the door to the Velvet Room and beckons Yosuke to follow him. Yosuke peeks over his shoulder as they enter, expecting to see the train compartment on the other side -- but when they’ve passed through, to his surprise he finds himself standing in front of theother Velvet Room door, in the entrance hall on the other side of the TV.

“H-hey!” Yosuke yelps, looking back as the Velvet Room door shuts behind them. “How did you do that?”

“Shortcut,” Sebastian explains, lowering the brim of his cap. “Will this place suffice?”

Yosuke looks around and hesitates. “Let’s walk for a bit,” he suggests. “Teddie’s working today and he likes to come over to this side sometimes just to check in. I don’t know how I’d explain it if he saw you...”

Sebastian extends an arm, indicating Yosuke should lead the way. “As you wish.”

Yosuke digs his glasses out of his bag and puts them on, and then they start off together in silence. The maze of metal walkways that winds through the fog can be tricky to navigate, but he doesn’t plan on going far. This world’s version of the shopping district is the closest to the entrance, but he doesn’t like going there if he can help it. Yukiko’s castle isn’t much further -- it’ll have to do.

“I didn’t mean to alarm you before,” says Sebastian after a while. “I thought you understood I couldn’t be seen in the doorway.”

Yosuke huffs and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Forget about it. I was talking with a friend and it kinda just hit me how bad it would be if one of them saw you. Don’t think I could explain that one...”

“It would require some concentration on my part, but I could change my appearance next time, if that would make it easier?”

“I guess that’d be better, but -- wait, ‘next time’?”

“Your world looked fascinating. I’m curious about it. I’d like to see it some time, if that’s all right.”

Yosuke chokes. “No, it’s not all right! You have to stay on this side! Geez, weren’t you listening to me?”

“But I just said I could--”

“No way. Ugh, this is so weird...”

Sebastian looks like he’s pouting a little, but he drops the argument. Yosuke sighs and turns his attention back to the path they’re on, noticing that the walkways have started to give way to roads and pavement and street signs. There’s an -- an intersection up ahead, the traffic lights gone dark under the twisting red and black sky, and...

He slows to a stop, his leg suddenly throbbing and his skin crawling with the chill and the fog as he stares ahead into the darkened street. He’s sure he didn’t mean to come this way. He doesn’t ever mean to come this way.

“...Let’s go back,” he says shakily. 

He doesn’t give Sebastian the chance to question or argue. He turns on his heel and stalks off back the way they’d come, back through the fog toward the metal grating and harsh studio lighting, his companion trailing just behind. They only walk for a few minutes before Yosuke sees the street signs again and realizes with a pounding heart and a chill down his spine that the entrance can’t be back this way after all -- that somehow, even though it should be behind them, that same dark, ominous intersection lies ahead.

“What the hell is this...” Yosuke breathes, raking a hand through his hair and grabbing a fistful of it, hoping a good, painful tug will somehow set this thinking straight again. “We turned around back there, I know we did...”

“Do you not want to go that way?” Sebastian asks quietly.

“No, I don’t want to -- fucking hell, are you doing this?!”

“No. This world isn’t my creation; I don’t have any power over it.”

Yosuke pauses to catch his breath, hands pressed over his eyes, forcing air to come in and out through his nose at a more measured pace. Okay. Okay, it’s not a big deal. This world is kind of alive in a weird way -- it’ll react to him being here, the way it always does when people are pushed in. That must be it. The world is reacting to his emotions, recreating his worst fears -- it knows he’s afraid of this place, and it’s going to trap him here until he--

Gloved hands gently close around his wrists and pull them away from his face. Yosuke shuts his eyes before he can see Sebastian, see him, here at the place where they’d--

“Calm down,” says Sebastian. “You aren’t in danger.”

Yosuke nods, and concentrates on breathing and slowing his racing heartbeat. He tries to shut down the train of terrified and erratic thoughts, but with his eyes closed it’s too hard to stop the image of the empty intersection up ahead from being violently replaced with images of one that suddenly isn’t empty when he expects it to be, even less empty when the screaming of sirens finally reaches his ears and -- he forces his eyes open before it can get worse. He stares at the knot of Sebastian’s uniform tie with all of his focus, lets the silence of this world and the thumbs pressed against the twin pulses in his wrists be his anchor to reality. And slowly, gradually, he starts to come down from his panic. 

“I’m okay...” he croaks. “...Thanks.”

“Let me lead the way back,” Sebastian insists. “This world and I don’t affect each other. It’ll be safer that way.”

Yosuke nods, feeling suddenly drained and creaky. Sebastian releases one of his wrists and pulls Yosuke along behind him by the other, just for the first few steps before he seems sure that he’ll follow, and then he lets go of that one, too. Yosuke’s shoulders tense up at first as he realizes going this way means they’ll have to cross that dark street -- but to his surprise, the closer they get to it, the more distant it appears to be, until the shapes of the signs and telephone poles and the wires outlined against the sky fade out of sight entirely. A few minutes later, he realizes his shoes are clanging on metal as he walks and he looks down to see the familiar walkways that lead toward the entrance hall beneath his feet, and breathes a sigh of relief.

“It’s dangerous to wander too far,” says Sebastian, pausing to lean against the walkway railing as he speaks. “But we can talk here. We’re still out of immediate sight of the entrance.”

Yosuke looks ahead. He can see the stack of televisions from here, but it’s at least a level below them, and still partially obscured by fog. It’ll do, he decides. Much better than going back out there, anyway. “All right. So... what did you need to talk to me about?”

Sebastian reaches into what must be an inside breast pocket on his uniform jacket, and produces a sheet of paper. “Do you remember this?”

Yosuke takes it from him. The words written on it seem jumbled to him, but at the very bottom, he recognizes his own signature. “Yeah. That’s... that’s the contract Igor had me sign when I first met you.”

“And did you read it?”

“I... think so? I don’t really remember... Something about taking responsibility for my actions?”

“That’s part of it. You may be more interested in this part, however.” Sebastian reaches over and points out a barely-legible section just above his signature. Yosuke has to squint and lean close to the page to see the writing, and even then can’t properly distinguish the words from each other. “Can you read it?”

“No.”

“I thought not.” Sebastian sighs and crosses his arms impatiently. “This contract allows you to enter the Velvet Room and make use of our services -- but it also binds you to that place. If you fail to fulfil the destiny you’ve been given -- if you’re killed or are otherwise unable to follow it through to the end -- the contract states that you’ll have it taken away from you.”

“But … that’s okay, isn’t it?” Yosuke asks slowly. “It isn’t my destiny to begin with. You guys told me that much. If I get myself killed then it only makes sense I can’t do what Souji wanted me to do, right?”

“Wrong. It’s your destiny now. And if you fail to carry it out, your soul is forfeit. You’ll become a resident of the Room, like us.”

Yosuke blinks. “Whoa, whoa, wait a minute -- I never...!”

“Yes,” Sebastian cuts across him, “you did. You agreed to exactly that when you signed this contract.”

“This... this can’t be...” Yosuke grips the sheet of paper, comes close to simply tearing it apart. He could just tear it apart, destroy it and then he won’t have to risk losing his soul to some stupid creepy room that isn’t even real... but he can’t. He needs access to Souji’s Personas to protect everyone and to finish this thing. Souji had made him promise he would, and he’s just promised Rise that they’d look out for each other, and he can’t.

“I’m sorry,” says Sebastian quietly. “I didn’t know that’s what was in the contract. After your last visit I found myself curious about you, so I looked at it before my master returned. If he’s the one who wrote it to begin with... I don’t think he should know that we’re aware of what it means.”

“No, you... that was the right thing to do. Thanks...” Yosuke looks up from the contract when it occurs to him, a tiny spark of awareness in the tide of fear for himself, that Sebastian might be putting himself in danger to bring him this information. “Hey... are you going to be okay? What if he finds out?”

“He won’t. I’ll take the contract back with me, and we won’t speak a word of it inside the Velvet Room.” Sebastian takes the paper from his cold and shaking hands and tucks it safely back inside his jacket. He turns as if to leave, but then apparently thinks better of it and looks back at Yosuke with a sombre expression. “If it comes to it, you have my word that I will help you, to the best of my ability. I said I didn’t wish any harm to come to you, and I’ll fight to ensure that if I must.”

Yosuke can barely process that promise on top of everything else. Everything about this day has been beyond absurd -- Rise’s letter, this world trying to close him in, the contract -- he doesn’t think he can take any more. He needs to go home, lock himself in his room, and not come out for a whole day at least. Fuck, how has he gotten himself into this? Why the hell hadn’t Souji told him there was a--

Yosuke’s heart stops. Oh. Oh, fuck, Souji.

“Sebastian...”

“Yes?”

Yosuke’s mind is racing again, whipping into a frenzy and putting the pieces together as he speaks, as the dizzying thrill of possibility starts to take flight inside him. “My friend... Souji... Did he sign this contract, too?”

“I didn’t find it,” says Sebastian after a pause. “But probably, yes. We’ll discuss this another time. I should return before my master realizes I’m gone.”

Nothing more is said. Sebastian leaves him standing on the walkway, thrilled and breathless with his discovery. He’d been right from the start. He should have trusted his instinct, shouldn’t have listened to Sebastian’s protests to the contrary -- he’s Souji. He has to be. Of course he doesn’t remember who he is, who he’s destined to be, because he doesn’t have a destiny anymore; it belongs to Yosuke now.

He fumbles with a shaking hand for the Velvet Room key in his pocket, draws it out and looks at it. Souji had given him the key -- but not the Wild Card. That hadn’t been willingly given up and passed on to him like he’d thought; that had been taken from Souji, just like his contract had probably said it would be. That it was then given to Yosuke was entirely an accident of fate, made possible only because Souji had handed the key over to him. The thought of how close he had come to never discovering any of this -- never receiving this power, never seeing Souji again, letting him languish in the Velvet Room for all eternity -- is absolutely staggering.

Yosuke closes his hand around the key, and thinks over the warning he’s been given. Sebastian didn’t have to help him. He has no reason to go behind his master’s back and warn Yosuke of what he stands to lose if he can’t complete this task. Was it Souji, then, who couldn’t resist the urge to offer his assistance? To help him now, like he always has? It’s possible. He might still be in there somewhere after all.

It might be possible to save him.

He doesn’t care about the pain in the leg or any lingering, nagging doubt in his mind anymore. When he runs down to the entrance hall floor and back through the televisions into the real world, it’s with a desperate hope and renewed determination in his heart that he almost hardly dares to let himself feel.





December 17, 2011

Igor is there the next time Yosuke enters the Velvet Room, and though his presence now makes him tense and sick to his stomach, he thinks he does a decent job of pretending he doesn’t mistrust him. He thinks he does an okay job of staying relatively calm and collected when he looks at Sebastian, too, knowing what he knows now -- knowing for sure this time that he is Souji, or rather, what’s left of Souji after he’d had his destiny taken away from him. 

It’s starting to make sense, with that piece of the puzzle now in his grasp. He’d lain awake most of the night thinking about it, trying to put all the fragments together into something that made a whole picture. Those weird flashes in Sebastian’s expression and demeanour after he shows him the cards he asks for, the ones that remind him so strongly of his friend that it leaves his heart sick and aching when he sees them -- it must be Souji reacting to the power that used to be his, to the people he’d known in his life. If he can keep this up... maybe soon something will finally click into place and Souji will remember something, remember him, and...

He’s not sure what comes after that. But he’s utterly, single-mindedly determined to find out.

He spends a bit of time with Igor trying to construct Raphael in the way Sebastian wants, and when he finally succeeds, Yosuke turns to him with a self-satisfied smile and produces the shimmering tarot card from the air to show to him. Surely he’ll remember something this time, he thinks, and he eagerly awaits both his reaction and the chance to catch another glimpse of the person he hopes to see behind Sebastian’s eerie eyes. 

Something isn’t right, though. Sebastian usually rewards him with one of his reserved smiles and kind words of praise, but this time he doesn’t say anything. His eyes are fixed on the card, spinning slowly in front of him, and his face is even more distant and impassive than usual. Yosuke’s about to ask him what’s wrong when his own gaze wanders to the card, just as it rotates toward him to show its face.

It’s Raphael, like it should be -- but it’s upside-down. The card had come up reversed.

“Hey...” says Yosuke nervously. He doesn’t know much about tarot cards, but he at least knows it usually isn’t good when that happens. “Was it supposed to come out like that?”

“It can,” murmurs Sebastian. There’s a strained, disappointed note in his voice that hurts Yosuke to hear and leaves him wondering what exactly he did wrong. “Making a choice... Deciding you want something, and possessing a powerful desire to chase after it... Those things can be very admirable. But also very foolish. If you're not careful it can become altogether too easy to lose sight of yourself, and of your goal. You can start to think you’re ready to sacrifice anything just to have the thing you want so badly. Is that truly the path you want to follow?”

Yosuke flinches, and flushes with embarrassment at being so openly admonished after expecting much more encouraging words. “N-no,” he stammers out, “that isn’t what I--”

“If you’ll permit me to offer my advice...” Sebastian banishes the offending tarot card from sight and shuts the Compendium as he leans forward. “Tethering your happiness to the dead will only bring you pain. Let him go. It’s the only way either of you will have peace.”

He sits there, stunned, his eyes stinging and his throat working, a scant second from breaking down, when suddenly all his sadness and grief switches tracks and careens into blinding anger instead. Where does he get off saying something like that? He’s not the one who has to live with what happened.He doesn’t have to clean up the mess that was left after he’d gone. He’s not the one who was left behind. 

“But I’ll say nothing more on the matter,” says Sebastian coolly, leaning back in his seat once more. “The choice must be yours, after all, or else it’s meaningless.”

It takes Yosuke another minute to swallow the bitter disappointment of having his newfound enthusiasm and hopes for the future so thoroughly dismissed. When he manages to scape together enough composure to speak in a voice lower than a shout, he forces out a half-joking, half-angry, “All right, so you didn’t like that one. Anything else I can get you?”

Sebastian frowns disapprovingly at his attitude, and Yosuke does feel a little guilty for treating him this way after he’d promised to fight to protect him and possibly risked his life to warn him about the contract. It’ll take a while for the hurt and anger to subside, though. So he’ll just have to deal. “Atropos, please,” he responds in a tone far more polite than Yosuke probably deserves. “With Traesto. That will be all.”

Yosuke leaves the Velvet Room without another word. He’s back in the shopping district when he shuts the door angrily behind him, and he simply stands there for a long time, lost in thought and trying to cool off. After a while, he decides he doesn’t care what Sebastian thinks about his motivations. He’s Souji, he knows that for sure now, and he can’t just walk away and leave him trapped in there after all they’ve been through together.

“I’m going to save you...” Yosuke whispers aloud, his teeth clenching and his hands balling into stubborn fists. “I swear no matter what it takes, Souji, I’m going to save you.”

He means it, with all his heart, even though he has no idea how he’s going to do it yet. He’s so sure he means it that he writes it on a sheet of paper, stuffs it into an envelope he finds at home, and leaves it with the rest of the promises in Souji’s shoe locker at school on Monday.

Chapter Text

December 18th, 2011

Despite the resolution he'd reached just yesterday, his argument with Sebastian leaves him feeling like crap this morning. It should have been a good night's sleep for once, one of the few he's had in what feels like forever, but despite the distinct absence of dreams about or actual visits to the Velvet Room, Yosuke feels slow and groggy as he rolls out of bed with a frustrated groan. He rubs the sleep from his eyes, pulls the curtain back from his window, and squints at the grey haze outside. It looks thicker than yesterday, colder and damper - just looking at it makes his bones ache. He whips the curtain closed again and crawls back under the covers.

It's Sunday, so there's nowhere for him to be today. He'd thought it would be the perfect day to regroup -- to recover from the week of school, fighting in the other world, even his morning run with Chie -- and to go over what he'd learned about the Velvet Room and Souji's fate. His resolve had been firm last night, the way it is when a cushion of sleep stands between you and your responsibilities; but now, in the cold, pale light of morning, thinking about it makes him sick.

Tethering your happiness to the dead will only bring you pain.

Yosuke grits his teeth and buries his face into his blankets. Somehow, he’d shown his hand too early. Sebastian had seen right through his plans, had known his intention to save him almost as soon as he had formed it, and had deftly taken it apart. Whatever help Sebastian had promised him, Yosuke knows it doesn’t apply to this. If he wants to rescue Souji from an eternity in the Velvet Room, he's going to have to do it on his own. And he has no idea where to start.

He spends close to half an hour mustering the strength of will to get out of bed again, and in the end only manages it when Teddie begins to stir on the other side of the room. He doesn’t want Ted to see him like this. Regardless of his own insecurities, he's not going to worry him anymore. No more hiding in bed all day -- they've got things to do.

Before he can even gather his clothes together to get ready for the day, however, his phone beeps, alerting him that he has a text message. He digs around in his bag for it and pulls it out, and is slightly bewildered to find a message from someone who usually doesn’t go out of her way to speak with him.

Shirogane Naoto
Dec 18 2011 - 10:45

senpai if u have time today i would like 2 meet. plz respond asap


Yosuke takes a second to appreciate that he’s finally found someone who cares less about their text grammar than he does, then fires off a reply. It’s strange for Naoto to want to talk to him one-on-one, but he doesn’t feel apprehensive about it at all. She can be hard to talk to, but he feels like he can rely on her to stay focused on what needs to be done. She won’t stand for any self-pitying nonsense. Whatever she wants to meet about, it’ll be all business. So when she tells him she wants to meet at the gazebo on the floodplain, he doesn’t hesitate in replying that he’ll be there.

He offers a hasty explanation to a half-asleep Teddie that he’s going out today and then gets ready as fast as he can, but before he’s even made it out the front door he already knows he’s going to be late. Still can’t judge how far away things are by foot, rather than bike. Looks like he won’t be skipping Chie’s morning run after all.




“Good morning, senpai,” says Naoto as Yosuke approaches her, still catching his breath. She frowns and adds, “I’m sorry if my message sounded urgent. There was no need to hurry.”

“It’s cool,” he assures her, resisting the urge to cough in response to the burning sensation in his throat. It’s hard to tell if he’s just tired after so much exercise this week, or if it’s actually getting harder to breathe as the blanket of fog seems to settle more heavily over the town. He thinks of the intense pressure and fatigue he’d once experienced in the other world without wearing his glasses, and wonders if things will eventually get that bad on this side, too. “Just not used to not having a bike. Didn’t want to be late.”

“Ah,” she says. “I see. Still, you should be careful not to strain yourself. We need you at your best in the other world.”

Naoto indicates with a wave of her hand that he should sit opposite her at the gazebo table, and he does. He also notices the way she gives his arm and leg a quick once-over as he takes his seat. She’s just being cautious, but he’s feeling stubborn this morning, and the gesture combined with her reminder about his role in the investigation seems almost carelessly challenging to him. Maybe it’s just his inferiority complex rearing its ugly head again, but it’s always seemed to him that in Souji’s absence, Naoto would have been the obvious choice for a surrogate leader. She’s always been calm, rational, and level-headed; she would have led them to victory for sure. Souji had certainly trusted her. Instead, the team’s stuck with him, unsure of himself and what to do, and now injured on top of that. He knows she probably isn’t thinking anything like that at all -- but that doesn’t stop the seed of doubt from wriggling its way down into his gut and taking firm root there.

“So... what’s up?” he asks. “Is there something wrong? Sounded like there was something on your mind...”

Naoto nods curtly. “There is. It’s been more than a week. I thought I should check in with you. See how you’re handling taking the lead in the case.”

“Fine,” he responds, maybe too quickly. “We’re making progress, right? We’ll get that bastard soon, don’t worry.”

“I know. Please don’t mistake my concern for doubt. I simply think we’ve lost too much not to be completely honest with each other.”

“Yeah, I guess I get that. It’s kind of a lot to handle, but I think I’m doing okay. Rise and Kanji are helping out with gathering supplies, so that’s good -- I mean, I think we’ll be okay there, I had a lot of money saved up.”

“You did?” 

“Yeah. You know, for my motorcycle, but... this is kinda more important.”

“...I see.”

He threads his fingers together nervously. They may not know each other very well, but they’re on the same team and they count each other as friends -- so why does he feel like he’s being interrogated? “So... you said you wanted us to be honest with each other? Is there something you think I’m lying about?”

Naoto sighs. “No, not exactly... Senpai, allow me to speak frankly. Chie-senpai told me you said something strange to her a few days ago. She said you felt like Souji-senpai may not really be gone. Is that true?”

Yosuke closes his eyes. Shit. This is the last thing he needs to happen, for the rest of their group to start thinking he’s losing it just as he’s beginning to realize he isn’t. “That’s not... exactly what I said...”

“But you did say something.”

“...Yeah.”

Naoto leans across the table toward him, her voice low and her eyes fixed directly on him, leaving him no escape from her scrutiny. “And do you still think that way?”

Yosuke scarcely dares to accept the thought that occurs to him in that moment, as she locks eyes with him and waits for his response. She’s not investigating anymore; she’s talking in that cool, confident way she does when she wants to confirm something she already knows is possible. Naoto believes him. “...Yeah,” he says again, more firmly this time. “I know it sounds crazy, and for a while there I actually thought I was, but... I think he’s still alive.”

She frowns a little at that. He hastens to explain himself.

“Not -- not alive, maybe, I mean we... we know he’s gone, there was a funeral, and... I know he’s dead. I know that. That’s not what I mean.”

“But you’ve seen him, and you believe it was real. Is that what you’re saying?” Naoto pauses long enough for him to nod once, and then settles back into her natural posture. “I see. Please, Senpai, if you don’t mind... I’d like you to start from the beginning. Tell me everything that’s happened.”

So he does. He’d already told their friends about the Wild Card and how Souji had entrusted the responsibility of closing the case to him, but now he shows her the key he carries in his pocket and tells her everything, about his borrowed Personas and the Velvet Room and, most importantly, about Sebastian and the contract.

“It’s him,” he insists. “When I make these Personas for him, he gets... weird. Like he remembers everything for just a second, and then it’s gone again. So I’ve been bringing him all these Personas and hoping one of them -- I dunno, snaps him out of it.”

“Do you think that will work?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t know what else to do.”

Naoto sits quietly for a moment, processing the new information he’s provided. Finally, she says, “This is... a lot to take in.”

“So you believe me? That it’s really Souji?”

“Yes. Or more accurately -- I believe you believe it’s him. I can’t see it for myself, so I’m reluctant to say for certain. But given what you’ve told me about this contract, it’s... difficult not to come to the same conclusion you did.”

Yosuke breathes a deep sigh and relaxes his shoulders, which had unconsciously gone rigid while he waited for her reaction. “Thanks. Ugh, I felt like I was losing my mind... You have no idea how much better that makes me feel. So I guess the question is... what do we do now?”

“Well... two things. One: for now it seems like you’re the only one in a position to help him, so you should keep trying. But we have to keep going after Adachi-san, too. I understand trying to coordinate our trips into the other world and planning our routes is taxing, so please let me help with that. And if I can do anything to help you rescue Souji-senpai, I will.”

“Thanks, Naoto. I think I really needed to hear that.”

“Don’t thank me yet. The other thing you need to do is tell the others what you just told me.”

Yosuke grimaces. He’d been afraid she was going to say that. “Yeah... I know.”

“You should do it the next time we meet to enter the TV. It will be hard for them to accept, but they need to know what’s happening. I’ll do what I can to back you up.”

He nods silently. Now that Naoto’s pushing him along and urging him to share his suspicions with the people closest to Souji, the whole thing is sounding more and more ridiculous in his head. Souji’s alive. But not really. In fact, I don’t actually have any proof at all that it’s him, just a guy that sometimes looks like him and a contract I was dumb enough to sign and he probably wasn’t. The more he thinks about it, the more it sounds like he’s digging up painful possibilities for nothing.

“There is one other thing I’d like to help you with, if it’s all right with you,” Naoto says, and Yosuke tilts his head curiously as she stands up and gestures for him to follow her. “I’d like to show you something. Please come with me.”




They make their way into town, toward what Naoto tells him is the apartment she’s been staying in since she came to Inaba. It’s a small two-storey complex, and though he’s curious about it, he doesn’t get to see what her living arrangements are like in any closer detail. Instead of showing him inside, she takes him around the back to what looks like a tiny storage locker, not even wide enough to fit a small car inside. She unlocks it and pushes up the metal door, and allows him to go in first. There are boxes stacked neatly at the back and along the sides, and what’s probably a small collection of unused furniture hidden underneath some sheets. Naoto hasn’t had much time for unpacking or settling in with the case going on, he supposes, and he says as much aloud to her as he looks around.

“I’ve been busy,” she agrees. “Honestly I was never sure how long I would be staying in Inaba, so unpacking seemed a waste of time. It’s a work in progress.”

Yosuke tries to stay out of her way when she moves toward the back of the storage unit, leaning into a pile of boxes to make room for her. She goes to the sheet-covered furniture pile and grasps the fabric in both hands, apparently about to remove it, but she pauses before following through and turns to face him instead.

“I’m... sorry about Souji-senpai,” she says quietly. “I lost my parents when I was very young. It was a car accident.”

Yosuke stares openly at her as his heart sinks, sure that he isn’t going to like the way this conversation is probably going to head.

“It was a long time ago, and I know I didn’t know Souji-senpai as well or for as long as any of you, but... I want you to know that I can understand the kind of pain you must be experiencing.”

“It’s not... just me,” Yosuke says. “He was important to everyone.”

“That’s true. But that’s not what I meant.”

His brow furrows, but before he can ask what she means by that, Naoto tugs on the white sheet and uncovers the object she’s standing beside. It’s not furniture at all -- it’s a bike, a scooter, really, dark blue and silver and looking like it’s been kept in decent shape. 

“Wow, Naoto... I didn’t know you were into this stuff. That’s pretty cool.”

“I don’t use it often. But it’s convenient when I do need it.” Naoto lets him poke around the scooter for a minute, and then levels him with a sober stare. “Traffic accidents are common, but not so much that they should stop someone from eventually getting into a car again. That’s simply illogical. But it’s precisely what happened to me for a long time after my parents died.”

Yosuke mouth goes dry, which is just as well, since he can’t think of anything to say. He traces circles on the bike’s handlebars with his thumb, and simply lets her talk.

“I was such a young child that the event made a... rather strong impression on me. It was a long time before I felt safe being in a car, but even then... even now sometimes, it’s hard to forget. So when I was old enough, my grandfather gave me this.” She smiles a little as she folds up the protective covering and tucks it under her arm. “I found my fear much easier to conquer when I was more directly in control -- and when I had someone who understood my trepidation.”

“I’m sorry...” he says, even though it isn’t enough. “It must have been tough.”

“Yes,” she replies softly. “That’s why I want to let you borrow this.”

“Let me... what?”

Naoto pulls a set of keys from her pocket and tosses them to him, which he catches out of reflex. “I can see you’re having some difficulty getting around now, with your injuries and since you lost your bike. Since you’re leading us, it’s important for you to be able to move freely and quickly should an emergency arise. I want to help you, and this seems like a good way to do it.”

He swallows thickly. He doesn’t know if it’s the fog or what but he can’t seem to make his eyes focus on her, and the whole room just blurs over for a few seconds. He only realizes he’s got the handlebar of the scooter in a death grip after he catches her stealing a glance at his suddenly-clammy hand -- and he realizes in that moment that she’d been waiting for that, watching to see what his reaction would be. She’s just like Sebastian -- just like Souji. No hiding anything from her.

After he gathers enough composure, with his voice weakly and forcibly lighthearted, he manages to say, “Thanks, Naoto-kun, really... But you don’t want to leave something like that with me. You seen me ride a bike? Not pretty.”

The smile fades from his face as soon as he says it, and he swallows down the lump in his throat. Understatement of the century. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to ride anything resembling a bike again in his life, which is why he feels no remorse whatsoever about funneling the remainder of his motorcycle savings into their battle funds, which -- oh, right. Naoto had asked about that, too. She doesn’t miss a trick, does she?

“Well, the offer stands,” says Naoto, as she steps aside and gestures for him to leave the storage unit. “That’s a duplicate set of keys. The other key on that ring opens the door, so please feel free to make use of it if you change your mind.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Yosuke really doesn’t think he’ll be taking her up on this particular offer, partly because of his own anxiety, and partly out of embarrassment that Naoto is able to see through him so easily. Still... Naoto is smart and dedicated -- and on his side. He isn’t at all looking forward to sharing with the group what he’s told her today, but he feels sort of relieved that it’s out in the open. Things can change now. Suddenly he isn’t carrying his fears alone. “...I mean it. I know how crazy this stuff with Souji must sound, but... thanks for believing me anyway.”

“Think nothing of it,” she says, as they leave the storage unit and she closes the door behind them. “And please, don’t worry about what the others will think when you tell them. I can promise you... you aren’t telling us anything we don’t already want to believe.”

She says goodbye and takes the stairs up to her apartment. He takes his time walking home. On the way, he draws the Velvet Room key from his pocket and slips it onto the keyring Naoto had given him, for safekeeping.





The creation and presentation of Atropos goes much better than Raphael. The card doesn’t appear reversed this time, and Sebastian doesn’t seem to be upset with him anymore, yesterday’s spat completely forgotten. He smiles when Yosuke shows him the card, and there’s another brief but painful flash of awareness in his eyes when he asks Yosuke whether the investigation is going well.

“We’ve been struggling,” Yosuke admits. “But I feel like we’ve finally hit a turning point.”

“That’s the power of the Wheel of Fortune. Even the most dire situation can be turned around with the right conditions in place.” Sebastian dismisses the card and closes the Compendium on the newly-recorded Atropos, and Yosuke murmurs his agreement. Sebastian doesn’t have to tell him: with Naoto backing him up, things are about to change. He hasn’t felt this sure of anything in months.

They’re alone in the Velvet Room once again, but Sebastian makes no mention of their recent discovery of the fine print in his contract, so Yosuke takes his lead and remains silent. He’s dying to ask if Sebastian has found Souji’s contract, but he doesn’t want Igor to somehow discover what they know, and he has no way of knowing how much power he has over what’s said in this place. So he doesn’t mention it, and neither does Sebastian. 

Sebastian doesn’t seem eager to talk at all, in fact (aside from asking for a new Persona -- Uriel this time, one that repels electricity), but Naoto was right: it’s up to him to find a way to save Souji, and he can only do it during his brief visits to the Room. Yosuke remembers Sebastian’s sharp disapproval of his desire to save his friend and isn’t eager to risk incurring his wrath again, but he has to say something or he’ll never make any progress. 

Luckily, he’s come prepared this time. 

“Hey, um... can I talk to you about something?” he asks tentatively, and his hesitation is partly faked to gain Sebastian’s trust, but partly genuine, too. He doesn’t want to talk about what he’s about to bring up, but he doesn’t see another way. Sebastian nods, and Yosuke continues. “It’s about my friend. Souji.”

Sebastian frowns at that. “I’d hoped you would take our last discussion to heart. I promise you: desiring something you can’t have will lead to nothing but pain.”

“It’s not that. It’s actually something you wanted me to tell you.”

“Oh?”

“You asked me before if I would tell you what happened to him. Do you still want to know?”

He can already tell it’s worked. Sebastian doesn’t say anything right away, but Yosuke knows Souji so well that he doesn’t have to. He’s retained all his telltale signs of stoic curiosity, the way his eyes brighten and he sits up just slightly straighter when he needs to know something. He’s piqued his interest, though Sebastian himself doesn’t appear certain why.

“...If you wouldn’t mind,” Sebastian replies.

Yosuke does mind. This isn’t easy, and doesn’t get any easier, but if there’s the slightest chance it might jog Souji’s memory, he’ll brave it.

“Okay. Well... there was an accident,” he begins, laying out the groundwork Sebastian doesn’t know before divulging details. Details, he reminds himself, that’s all they are. Just facts. Just things that happened. “Teddie had been missing, but he came back that day, so we were all meeting at Junes. After everyone went home I still had to stay and work, and Souji wanted to help. And I guess I thought, well, of course he does -- he doesn’t want to go back to that house all by himself. So I didn’t mind. But it got late, and it got dark. And when we were leaving Souji said he wanted to walk home with me, but I had my bike. I could have left it or walked it, but after the sun went down it got really cold and we just wanted to get home quick, so... he climbed on the back and I took him home. And on the way there was a car.” 

“At the intersection,” Sebastian interjects, prompting him to continue when the pause that follows goes on for too long.

Yosuke nods. “I didn’t see it until it was too late. I think the car saw us because I heard the tires screeching, but -- it didn’t matter. Even if it tried to stop, it was too late. We got hit.”

No matter how many times he tells the story, he’s never able to express it properly, to make anyone understand what he means. There’s so much more to it than he can put into words. When he says hit by a car he knows what comes to everyone’s mind: still images, a three-panel story of car-impact-ground with no sensory details attached to it at all. He can’t express the way his mind went blank when he finally saw it, when the car came at them side-on as they crossed the street and he had one half-second to know that there was no way they were going to avoid being hit. He doesn’t know how to describe the sharp intake of breath at his ear as Souji realized what was happening, or the way his arms tightened around his middle at the second of impact. There are no words for the horrific symphony of screeching tires and the metal crunch of his bike as it bent and buckled from the force of the collision. He can say I hurt my arm and my leg but even that doesn’t capture the numbness after the initial fall, or the scraped skin and bruises and asphalt burn that he couldn’t even feel until he came back to his senses.

No broken bones, miraculously. Souji had taken the worst of it, because of the way he’d latched onto Yosuke and leaned away from the car, effectively ensuring his fall came first and cushioning Yosuke’s. That one tiny, split-second action had been the difference between only one of them striking pavement directly or both of them, and he knows without a doubt that it had saved his life. He thinks about Souji’s arms moving around him instantly, something he’d initially attributed to fear after it was over, and wonders instead if Souji had tried to protect him on reflex.

He hopes not. Of all the burdens he’s shouldered since it happened, that’s the one he’s sure he can’t carry.

“I was stunned for a bit, but I could still move, even though the doctors told me I shouldn’t have,” he continues. “The driver was panicking. I should have been panicking, because Souji was bleeding and not moving. He was just... lying there. The driver didn’t have his phone, but I did, so I called an ambulance. And after I did, I saw that Souji was awake.”

“He survived the crash?”

Yosuke nods. “Yeah. I was so relieved, but so scared. Like, I was moving on auto-pilot and then I didn’t even know how scared I was until I saw he was still awake. I stayed with him until people started gathering around and the police and the ambulance came. He grabbed my jacket and wouldn’t let go, they had to like... pry him off me. He gave me that key, made me promise to... to finish this, and to visit... visit Nanako-chan and...” He chokes, and stares down at his hands, clenched into fists on his lap, and wills himself to continue. “So I promised, but that’s all. I didn’t... I didn’t really think he’d... I didn’t say goodbye or anything, because why would I have to, y’know? He was just going to the hospital. We both went into the ambulance, him on the stretcher and me strapped onto the bench. They split us up when we got there, but he was alive and I told him he’d be fine. I didn’t -- bother to say anything else because he was gonna be fine... And then an hour later he was dead.”

“...I’m sorry.”

Yosuke doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. He’d hoped to provoke some kind of reaction in Sebastian, but it doesn’t seem to have worked; he’d just made himself miserable again instead.

“Now that I know the circumstances,” Sebastian continues, “I suppose I can understand why you feel unable to let go of him. I shouldn’t have said the things I did yesterday. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I just... I don’t know. I didn’t even say goodbye, so how can I --” Yosuke’s throat catches and he shakes his head and covers his eyes, willing himself to stop thinking before this gets out of hand. “Nevermind. Forget it. I just wanted you to know why I can’t just leave this alone. I owe him so much. I wish I could...”

When he doesn’t continue that thought, Sebastian prompts him. “You wish you could tell him these things?” he asks gently. “You wish you could have said goodbye?”

“...Yeah.” Yosuke digs the heels of his palms hard into his eyes, concentrating on the stars exploding within the darkness behind his eyelids until he can bring his emotions back into check. “It’s so... so stupid, but maybe I wouldn’t feel so fucked up if I could have just...”

He can hear Sebastian setting the Compendium down onto the table and moving toward him. “Hey...” Sebastian murmurs as he settles very close by, and Yosuke gets the impression from the location of his voice that he’s kneeling at his feet. “Yosuke. Look at me.” 

Warm hands gently close around his own and pull them away from his eyes, and Yosuke blinks hard to clear the remaining black spots from his vision. He isn’t sure he’s seeing him right at first. He’s convinced it’s the dim light, his eyes playing tricks on him. He keeps blinking, but nothing changes, and he slowly realizes that it’s not Sebastian kneeling before him and holding his hands at all.

It’s Souji.

Yosuke can hardly breathe. Souji stares up him looking like nothing at all has happened, and Yosuke can’t look at him long enough. Grey eyes and grey hair and worried frown -- God, how often has he wished he could see him like this just one more time? He wants to throw his arms around his neck and laugh and scream and cry, but he’s afraid if he moves, if he so much as blinks the illusion will shatter, and he’ll --

But no... Souji’s dead, and that’s exactly what this is. An illusion. A stranger wearing Souji’s skin and pretending to be him. His chest feels like it’s about to cave in.

“Yosuke...”

“Stop.” He blinks, and tears begin racing down his cheeks, first one, then the other, and when Souji reaches up to brush them dry, Yosuke grabs his wrists in a vice grip. “Stop it!”

Souji cringes away, and Yosuke lets him go. By the time he moves back to the seat opposite him, he’s assumed the form of Sebastian once again.

“I’m sorry,” says Sebastian as Yosuke gets to his feet and hurries to the door, angrily wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. “I thought--”

Yosuke leaves the Velvet Room as quickly as he can and slams the door behind him without looking back, escaping into the foggy night air of the shopping district. He heaves a couple of deep, shaky breaths before he realizes it isn’t going to help, and promptly doubles over and vomits onto the street.

Chapter Text

.7 [Justice].

Dec 19

They gather at their special headquarters after school on Saturday, the first time they've done so without Souji. They've been fighting in the other world, of course, but they could never bring themselves to stop here first -- and now that they've finally come back, it isn't to prepare for battle.

Fog sweeps up and over the edges of the rooftop food court, leaving them adrift in a sea of cloud. Yosuke had been the one to suggest this as a meeting spot. Wherever he'd decided to gather them today, he needed to be sure they wouldn't be disturbed, and even knowing the food court would be abandoned by people desperate to stay indoors and out of the fog, he couldn't have hoped for a more secluded spot.

Being here is painful, too -- but everywhere in Inaba is painful for them right now. And considering what he's brought them here to discuss -- what he needs them to believe -- being somewhere that reminds them of Souji might not be the worst idea he's had to date.

"I, um..." he begins, hands clawing at his pantlegs beneath the table where the others can't see. Naoto is sitting to his immediate left, ready to support him as she'd promised, but he doesn't look to her yet. Not until he's sure he can't do it on his own. "There's... something we need to talk about."

He looks up, and meets Chie's eyes accidentally -- they're wide and fearful, mirroring the expression she'd shown him when they'd talked about this a few days ago. She quickly glances at Naoto, and then Yosuke knows for sure that even though he hasn't told anyone why he wanted them to meet, she knows exactly what he's about to say.

And despite all the resolve it had taken to get this far, that's the thing that finally makes him stumble.

"We, um... w-we need to visit Nanako-chan," he blurts out, instead of what he means to say. Naoto makes a soft noise of surprise next to him, and Chie looks taken aback. He ignores both of them. "It's uh, it's been way too long, y'know?"

"You’re right..." says Rise immediately, much to his relief. "We're on a tight schedule, but Nanako-chan could probably use some company."

"I haven't been visiting either..." Teddie sniffs. "I'm an awful friend..."

"H-hey, no one's saying that," says Yosuke, though as much to make himself feel better as Teddie. It isn't like he'd remembered to visit before now either. He'd even promised Souji and everything, but he'd let himself get too bogged down in grief and the investigation and his own injuries to think about others. Even if he's just trying to avoid telling his friends about Sebastian and Souji, this course of action is probably for the best. "There's been a lot going on. It's not too late though. Let's go now while all of us are together."

"Um, Yosuke-kun..." Yukiko says gently. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Huh? Why not?"

"All of us... aren't together..."

His stomach plunges. "...Oh. Right. Sorry, I didn't think..."

"I'm not saying we shouldn't go," she continues quickly. "But seeing all of us in a group without Souji-kun might be upsetting for her, so... we should be prepared for that."

"If we're goin', I wanna stop by my place," says Kanji. "I've been workin' on these knit dolls for her and stuff..."

With their plans for the day decided, they gather their things and shuffle toward the elevator. Yosuke tries to hang back from the rest of the group, but predictably, Naoto won't let him be alone. He cuts her off as she opens her mouth, before she even has the chance to reprimand him for backing out of his plan.

"I know," he hisses, under his breath so the others can't hear. "I screwed it up. I'll do it right next time."

Mercifully, she nods, apparently willing to leave it at that, and they say nothing more to each other as they leave Junes and head toward the bus stop in the shopping district.

When they arrive at the hospital, they go directly up the hall to Nanako's room -- only to be stopped outside the door by her father.

"...Hey," says Dojima, closing the door behind him. "I was just leaving. Are you here to see Nanako?"

He's talking to everyone, but his eyes fall on Yosuke, at the head of the group. So he nods. "Yeah. Is it okay to go in?"

Dojima hesitates. His face is pale and tired; there are dark rings under his eyes, and heavy lids above. On top of being injured, his daughter being hospitalized, and the betrayal of his partner, he's now lost another family member, one who had ultimately been in his care. Yosuke has always felt a little intimidated by Dojima, but now it's hard to feel anything but sympathetic -- a connection born from living through a common tragedy. At the same time though, it makes him feel childish; he thinks he's having a hard time, but how does Dojima even find the strength to get out of bed after enduring so much?

"It's fine," says Dojima at last. "But don't mention... I haven't told her yet."

"I... I see..."

A scowl darkens Dojima's face. "I don’t know if that was the right thing to do or not. How the hell do you know these things? Either way... I'll tell her soon. When she's better. She needs to keep her spirits up now..."

"We'll be careful not to mention anything," Naoto promises.

"Thanks. She's awake now. You can go on in."

The group files past him one by one, but when it's Yosuke's turn, Dojima takes him by the arm and won't let him enter. Yosuke freezes in place. They don't say anything until the others have all gone in, and only then does Dojima release his arm.

"Some of my colleagues are keeping me up to date on the investigation," Dojima says quietly. "There probably won't be charges laid -- against you or the driver. He shouldn't have been riding on your bike like that, but since that's not really what caused the accident... Well, with the time of night and the weather conditions, they'll likely find that nobody was at fault."

Yosuke exhales slowly. "...Okay."

"I know it's not what his parents wanted to hear, but... dammit..." Dojima grimaces and holds his injured side. "One way or another, it'll be good for everyone to put this to rest."

"Yeah..."

An awkward silence passes between them. Dojima sighs deeply and tiredly, and says, "I don’t know what happened, exactly, but I know that somehow I have all of you to thank for saving Nanako. He was a good kid... You’re all good kids. So whatever you do... don't let yourself get caught up in wondering if things could have been different. Take it from me: there are people here and now who need you. Don't lose sight of that, no matter what."

Yosuke bites his lip and faces Nanako's door, and can't bring himself to respond. Dojima pats him once on the shoulder, and Yosuke watches as a nurse walks him back down the hall to his own room. He supposes he should feel relieved that responsibility for the accident won't be officially his, but in reality, he doesn't feel anything. He's already assumed responsibility in his own mind; having it be a matter of public record would have simply been the next logical step.

He follows the others into Nanako's room. Teddie is already at her bedside, talking excitedly at her, and Nanako's face is beaming bright to see her crowd of visitors. And though he's still not sure if Dojima did the right thing by not telling her about Souji, Yosuke thinks that when he looks at her face right now, he can at least understand his reasons.

"Nana-chan, Nana-chan!" Teddie leans toward her, conspiratorially. "Guess what? Kanji brought you presents!"

Nanako gasps. "Presents? For me?"

"H-hey, I was gonna tell her!"

"But Kaaaanjiiii, I can't stand waiting around while there are presents! Hurry up and give them to her!"

Kanji empties a bag full of adorable knit rabbits, kittens, and puppies onto her bed, and Nanako squeals in delight. "They’re so cute! Thank you! When I can go home, can we make some together?"

"S-sure, Nanako-chan! Anything you want."

"Oooh, me too!" says Teddie. "Kanji, all the ladies swoon when you show them cute things like this. Teach me your secrets!"

"Oh, this sounds like a bad idea..." Yukiko murmurs.

They spend a while chatting together and enjoying the warm sound of Nanako's laughter. It isn't long, however, before she asks the question they've been dreading.

“You’re all here,” she says, “but... where’s Big Bro?”

An uncomfortable silence blankets the room for a moment -- but Yosuke is ready for this. Just as some of the others begin to voice uncertain sounds around him, Yosuke says, "He couldn't make it today, Nanako-chan. But he said to say hello."

"Oh..." Nanako lowers her head a little, disappointed, but smiles again after a moment. "That’s okay. Did he get into trouble at school?"

"Yeah... something like that."

"Okay. Then you'll rescue him, right?"

Naoto glances at him. Yosuke's throat cramps too tightly for him to respond.

"Big Bro said something like that once. Sometimes when he comes home he's really tired, and one time when I asked him why he said, 'I was playing a game with my friends after school. We were fighting some scary monsters and they almost got me. But Yosuke rescued me, so I’m okay'." Nanako giggles. "He thought you were really cool. So... you can rescue him again, right?"

"Y-yeah..." Yosuke answers with a strained smile. "I can. I will."

"Good! Tell him to come visit next time, okay?"

Yosuke nods and says, "Okay", and then slowly drifts toward the back of the group, allowing everyone else to step forward and give their well-wishes to Nanako. And when he reaches the edge of the crowd, he keeps going, back toward the door and out of the room, and he barely stops long enough to close it behind him after he's gone.

He's not five feet down the hall before Chie follows him out and catches up with him, grabs him by the elbow and shoves him into the nearest wall. "You idiot... Why would you say something like that?!" she hisses, tears shining in the corners of her eyes. "We can't let her think he's waiting for her when she gets out of here! That's... that's too cruel. That's just--!"

"I have to go."

"Where?! What's gotten into you lately? A week ago you could barely even say his name and now suddenly you're the one who's got it all figured out?" Chie searches his face for answers he can't -- won't -- provide, and she sighs in frustration. "Souji-kun may have wanted you to take his place, but you are not the only one shouldering this. You have to tell us what's going on!"

"I know."

"Well?"

"...Not now."

"I can't believe you...!"

Yosuke wrenches from her grasp and starts backing away, indicating with an outstretched hand that she shouldn't follow him. "I will -- I promise. Bring the others back to Junes when you're done, and... and we'll talk. I swear. I have something I need to do first."

"Yosuke!"

"I'm sorry!"

He breaks into a run; Chie doesn’t follow. He knows he's making it worse right now, but he'll deal with it later -- right now he's possessed by the need to right a wrong -- a tragic situation that he feels, despite Dojima's assurances to the contrary, is his fault.

He has to rescue Souji. He's the only one who can do this.

He reaches the bus stop just in time to catch the next bus back to town, and when he gets there, he goes straight to the Velvet Room.

Yosuke still remembers the Persona Sebastian had requested of him last time, and when he arrives in the Velvet Room, he manages to fuse it with Igor with almost no difficulties. It's getting easier, he thinks; maybe he's finally starting to get the hang of it.

Sebastian watches him quietly from his seat next to Igor, while trying to pretend he's not doing anything of the sort. For the most part he keeps his attention fixed on the open Compendium in his lap, but he sneaks glances now and then while Yosuke is busy. He can't say it while Igor is in the Room with them, but he seems embarrassed about his behaviour yesterday, or maybe worried that Yosuke is still angry with him -- which he kind of is, but it hardly seems to matter right now. Seeing Nanako again has filled him with a sense of purpose, a renewed drive to set right the things that are so obviously wrong before it's too late.

He catches Sebastian's skittish glance once, the last time he does it, and flashes him a wan smile to let him know that things are okay between them. Sebastian quickly averts his eyes, but the line of his shoulders seems to relax after that, and he closes the Compendium and stops trying to pretend like he's more interested in it than in what Yosuke is doing.

When he's finished, he presents Uriel's card to Sebastian, who takes it and examines it for a long time without saying a word. An unexpectedly troubled look passes over his calm face. It isn't much, and passes quickly -- tiny ripples on a placid lake -- but it doesn't escape Yosuke's notice. This is the first time Sebastian hasn't had something to say about the Persona he’s shown him, and it makes him nervous.

"Is it... no good?" he prompts after a while. "Sorry, I guess I did kind of rush it a bit. Didn't think it was that bad, but--"

Sebastian brings his gloved hand to his face and quickly swipes his thumb across one eye, then the other, and then again -- and Yosuke stares openly, unable to look away.

"A-are you... are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," says Sebastian, apparently as startled as Yosuke. He's still crying, almost stoically -- he just keeps blinking and tears fall faster than he can catch them, not seeming to know what to do about it. "This is strange. I don't know what's come over me. I'm..."

Yosuke isn't sure what to do, arms raised uncertainly and halfway to reaching out to him -- but Igor's watchful gaze keeps him firmly in his seat, and he lowers his hands when he remembers they aren't alone. "It's fine, I mean... Is this about... last time? I'm not mad, if that's..." His gaze drifts toward Uriel's card, then back to Sebastian, and a rush of excitement courses through him. This reaction -- is this the same thing that usually happens when he shows him these Personas? Is this...him?

Sebastian wipes his face on the heel of his gloved palm and struggles to regain control over himself. "I'm sorry. It isn't that. I don't know why, but suddenly I remembered... my sister."

Yosuke can't suppress his reaction: a sharp exhalation of breath that not even the noise of wheels and tracks outside the train compartment can cover up. But there's nothing else he can do; Igor is still watching him. So when he thinks he can speak without his voice shaking, he says, breathlessly, "Tell me about her."

Sebastian sniffs and straightens in his seat, his eyes puffy and red, but drying. "I'd... forgotten all about her. She was... here. An attendant, like me. But she must have left. I don't know when, or why or... where she is now, or if she's okay... Her name is Margaret."

Yosuke can hardly bear the crushing weight of the disappointment that settles over him at that explanation. Of course. Of course he doesn't remember. He feels stupid, at first, for even allowing himself to hope -- but maybe it isn't all for nothing. It can't be a coincidence. There has to be a reason Sebastian remembered a sister, of all things, at exactly that moment. So he presses onward. "If you sister was an attendant... does that mean you replaced her?"

"I... I think so," says Sebastian, his eyebrows knitted together as though deep in thought. After a moment, he nods, more certain of his answer this time. "Yes. That's what it was. She had to leave, and someone had to take her place. That was me."

"Someone had to...?" An awful thought occurs to Yosuke then. "So... there always has to be an attendant? You couldn't just... leave?"

"Even I wanted to, no. Someone always must remain here."

Yosuke closes his eyes. Then that's a dead end, too. Even if by some miracle he could have Souji back, someone has to stay in the Room and serve as the attendant. Maybe... maybe if this Margaret comes back, maybe he can get away with it, but... dammit...

And then, because he has no further left to fall, he decides it can't hurt to say one more thing.

"...She's okay."

Sebastian peers at him cautiously with red-rimmed eyes. "What?"

"Your sister. Wherever she is. I just want you to believe that she's... she's okay."

Sebastian smiles for a moment, but it's visible for barely a few seconds before his mouth tightens and twists down at the corners, and then he's crying again, cracking at his weak points and suppressed emotion seeping through the fissures.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you..."

"I-I'm fine, but..." Sebastian hiccups. "Please... Please leave. I need to be alone."

Yosuke does as he's asked, keeping his head low and pointedly not making eye contact with Igor as he stands and hurries for the train compartment door. The atmosphere in the room has turned sombre and chilly, and he needs to get out of there. When he risks a glance back he sees Sebastian wiping his eyes again and Igor staring at him, and--

Yosuke opens the train compartment door and leaves without a word. But on the other side, instead of the foggy, deserted shopping district like he expects, he sets foot onto solid wood and thin carpeting again.

He's still in the Velvet Room -- but Sebastian is nowhere in sight.

Igor is waiting for him instead.

He takes a step backward on reflex, but the door slams shut behind him before he can go back the way he came. There's nowhere to run.

"Please," says Igor. With a genial wave of his hand, he indicates the cushioned bench Yosuke had vacated only a moment ago. "Sit."

Yosuke ignores him. He stands rooted to the spot, his heart pounding and his mind racing along in a blind panic. Igor has finally forced him and Sebastian apart, and the sinking sensation in his heart tells him exactly why: he's done something wrong. They've been found out.

"Where is he?" he manages at last, a hoarse whisper that only barely struggles out past his teeth.

Realizing his guest has no intention of making himself comfortable, Igor lowers his hand and folds it with his other below his long nose. "Do not worry yourself," he says, his tone still friendly. "Sebastian is where you left him. I've simply summoned you to another corner of the Room."

"Why?"

"To speak with you in private."

"About what?"

"Well... that depends." Igor's large, round eyes glint madly in the dim light. "What is it, exactly, that you're trying to accomplish?"

Yosuke swallows thickly. It's not his imagination or his guilt; Igor knows precisely what he's up to. Sebastian had been right not to speak of the contract inside the Velvet Room, but maybe that hadn't been enough -- maybe master and servant have some other connection that renders secrecy impossible. Or maybe talking about the other attendant had crossed a line, or maybe -- maybe he's actually making progress. Yosuke is frustrated by this realization for a full second before a sense of righteous anger and satisfaction takes hold of him instead. Good. He's glad Igor knows. Now he can go right to the heart of the problem.

"I know it’s you," he accuses, his voice low and dangerous. "You took him. You're the one keeping him here. I want him back."

"Sebastian is where he wishes to be."

"I'm not talking about Sebastian, I'm talking about--"

"He is performing his duties splendidly," Igor continues, heedless of Yosuke's interruption, the friendly tone draining faster from his voice with every word. "He is making every effort to assist you in the monumental task you have assumed. Why, then, instead of offering your thanks for his selfless work, do you persist in torturing him?"

"I... what?"

"Please," says Igor again. "Sit."

Yosuke reluctantly moves to his designated seat. When he's settled, Igor waves his hand through the air and produces a small, shining ball of light. It floats across the room and settles in front of Yosuke, who peers into it cautiously, full of suspicion -- and when he does, he holds his breath.

In the depths of the orb he sees Souji -- not the mask that Sebastian had assumed yesterday, but the real thing, alive and himself. Yosuke grasps for the orb of light with both hands before he can stop himself and yanks it closer, cradles it in his palms and brings its warm light close to his face, and stares.

He's looking at the interior of a limousine -- blue, like the train compartment where he's sitting now. He and Souji are sitting in the same place, and Igor and a refined-looking woman are there as well. And he knows, despite the shift in appearance, that what he's looking at is somehow also the Velvet Room.

"You gave away your Key," the woman notes solemnly.

Souji nods. "I did."

"Then what will you do?"

"Whatever I have to. Please..." Souji's voice wavers. He sounds so tired, Yosuke thinks. The woman had mentioned him giving away his key to the Velvet Room -- he must have been pulled into it one last time, just before he died. Yosuke's heart aches to know that what he's watching are probably Souji's last moments of consciousness. "Please. We're so close to the end... Please let me help him."

The woman looks surprised by this request, but Igor says, "That is indeed your obligation. Are you prepared to accept it?"

"Yes," says Souji, without hesitation.

"Master," the woman sighs. "There's no need to--"

"Margaret," says Igor patiently. "You wished to search for Elizabeth, did you not?" When the pale woman remains silent, he continues. "Our guest is offering you your opportunity. And of course, at this precise moment he is still our guest -- meaning we are contracted to assist him in his goals as well."

Souji lowers his head. "Thank you."

"Very well..." Margaret looks troubled by the decision that has been rendered, but she offers no further protest. "Then I will leave him in your hands."

The orb of light flickers and fades, and the scene dissolves with it. Yosuke grasps the air desperately for a moment, trying to cling to those final images of Souji, but it's no use. There's nothing left.

"So you see," says Igor, "there is no need to cause him such distress. He has made his decision -- and his wish was for you to abide by it."

"Souji... knew about the contract," Yosuke mumbles, crushed and defeated. "He knew what he was doing."

"That part of the contract exists for your benefit, and for the benefit of every Wild Card," Igor explains. "You require guidance on your journey, and there is no one better suited to guide you than one who has gone before."

"But that's... how can you do that to him? He died, and -- and it was my fault, but he's the one here stuck here forever? What kind of sick punishment is that?!"

"It is not punishment. You would have preferred it had he simply died and disappeared from this world? He did not wish for that. He knew the consequences, accepted our conditions, and chose to become who he is now." Igor closes his eyes briefly and nods to himself. "Yes... To accept responsibility for his actions and face his fate with unwavering courage. Though he did not succeed, he was truly a remarkable guest."

Yosuke shakes his head, unwilling to accept this discovery. He has to save Souji; this can't be the answer he's been looking for. "He didn't choose anything," he spits back. "It's part of his contract, isn't it? He had to do it. That isn't right, it isn't fair, it's...” He trails off as he recalls the images in the shining orb. He had seen Souji and Igor, but also a woman, with pale hair and golden eyes, dressed head to toe in blue -- another Velvet Room attendant. Margaret. "He's only here because Margaret left. I saw it. If she hadn't left, he wouldn't be Sebastian now, right?"

"Perhaps."

"So he can leave, then?"

"If he wishes."

"Then let him go!"

"And who is to replace him? Margaret has her reasons for leaving, but could not do so until Sebastian appeared to replace her. Furthermore... she is free to come and go as she wishes, but she is still a resident of the Velvet Room. She is not, and never will be, who she once was."

"And who was that?"

Igor shakes his head. "Even Margaret herself does not know. Even if they realize the nature of the contract, even if they made the decision willingly, no attendant has ever remembered their previous life as a Wild Card. It is for their own safety. For once-mortal beings, recalling their own deaths would be deeply traumatic." Igor leans toward him. "And so I must ask you: respect the sacrifice that Souji Seta has made for you. Do not continue down this path."

It's meant as the final nail in the coffin, the thing that would discourage him most, but it has precisely the opposite effect. Igor has to be mistaken. It isn't that he believes he's lying, exactly -- this kind of staggering self-sacrifice is most definitely something Souji would do with full awareness. That's not the part Yosuke doubts. What he doubts is the finality of it, the assertion that there is nothing he can do, and the assumption that despite choosing his fate, Souji would not also want to be spared it if possible.

They were partners. Souji had seemingly done the impossible for him, for the sake of the investigation, and now it was up to Yosuke to return the favour.

He gets to his feet. "I'll think about what you said," he responds coolly, and he heads toward the door of the Velvet Room without waiting for a reaction from its master.

There's no going back now. Igor has confirmed the contract, Souji's transformation into Sebastian, and the fact that attendants can leave the Room. There's nothing to do now but find a way forward.

Telling the others is one of the hardest things he's ever done, but he can't keep this secret to himself anymore. It isn't fair to them.

"There's something you guys need to know," he begins, keeping his eyes fixed on the centre of the Junes food court table instead of on any of his friends. "And you're gonna think I've gone crazy, but I really need you to hear me out."

He pulls the Velvet Room key from his pocket, and tells them what he told Naoto yesterday, plus the new information he's gathered. And he's extra glad now that he can't quite make eye contact with anyone, because he can tell from the glimpses of body language in his peripheral vision the expressions they must be wearing. Yukiko with her arms raised toward her face; Kanji's elbows locked as he grips his knees; Rise’s torso slumped back in her chair.

"You’'re... you're sure it's him?" Rise breathes.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "I am now."

"That's... a lot to accept..." says Kanji slowly. "But... this is you and Senpai we're talkin' about here. There's no way you'd lie about something like this."

"I really thought you... I don't know..." Chie frowns, still trying to process the news. "I-I mean, I didn't think you were lying, really, but--"

"I know," he assures her. "Trust me -- it's okay. I don't think I'd believe me either. Hell, I kind of didn't believe me for a while. Sebastian is a lot like Souji sometimes, but completely different, too. I didn't know what to think..."

"It sounds like we have confirmation now, however," says Naoto. "Yosuke-senpai. How likely do you think it is you'll be able to get him out of there?"

Yosuke shakes his head. "I'm not sure. I definitely broke through to him today, even if it was brief, and his reactioin was strong enough to make Igor step in to try and stop me. I think I'm getting closer."

"So... what do we do?" Rise asks.

"We keep going," says Yosuke. "We go get Adachi. I've been letting myself get distracted and sidetracked by this for too long already. We keep going, we finish this thing -- and I'll find a way to save Souji when it's done."

He doesn't know if that's enough, for him or for anyone else, but he's encouraged by the determination in their faces and their willingness to continue on in their fight. And when he goes to sleep that night, he feels like an immense weight has been lifted from his chest, like his world has been rebalanced now that he's shared that burden with the people who most want to help him carry it.

Chapter Text

Dec 23, 2011

In all their time spent fighting together, it was always one of them who leapt to Souji's defense, never the other way around.  It was an arrangement that went largely undiscussed.  They needed Souji if they were to solve the case (or so they thought) and were prepared to lay down their lives to achieve that end. And Souji, for his part, respected and appreciated both their dedication to his safety and what that dedication might eventually cost them.  By the end, Yosuke didn't even think about it anymore; moving into the line of fire to take a blow meant for Souji had become second nature.  They trusted him enough to put their lives on the line, to do whatever was necessary in order to protect him, and Souji in turn had never let them down.

So it's mostly on instinct that Yosuke throws himself in front of a particularly nasty Agidyne directed at Teddie.  Old habits and all that.

The heat is so intense he almost passes out -- or maybe he does for a second, because suddenly he's sprawled on his back on the cracked pavement of Magatsu Inaba, his nose filled with the smell of smoke and melted tar and plastic police tape.  Retribution is swift; the shadow is already dead by the time he recovers. Naoto helps him to sit up and Yukiko casts her strongest healing spell.  As the pain eases and his strength returns, he looks around, dizzy and disoriented, and spots Teddie standing uninjured a short distance away.  He sighs in relief, and coughs up smoke.  "Everyone okay?" he croaks.

"Thanks, Yosuke," says Teddie, the eyes on his suit downcast with worry.  "Another second and I would have been bearbecued!"

"Ugh… Never say that again and we'll call it even."  Yosuke gets to his feet, wobbling only a little, and winces with the pain that didn't completely subside with Yukiko's healing.  He turns to her and expresses his thanks.

"That was close," she sighs. "Please be more careful, Yosuke-kun."

"Huh? Why're you singling me out?"

Her eyes widen in surprise. "Well... we're depending on you, aren’t we? Not just here, but for Souji-kun’s sake, too..."

"Yeah," adds Kanji. "You kinda just did a suicide dive there. You should probably play it a little safer, Senpai."

Yosuke shakes his head, unwilling to let this become an argument. He’s not gonna let them die if he can help it, but they’ll just turn it around on him if he says that.  Best just to drop it while he can. “Forget it.  C'mon, we can probably clear this floor today if we push a little longer.  You guys with me?"

The others all confirm they have the strength to continue, so they take a minute to regroup and then press onward through the twisting streets of Magatsu Inaba. 

They have a point, Yosuke has to concede.  They're strong enough as a unit that they could certainly carry on without him, but the Wild Card power is a tremendous benefit.  Not to mention they barely have any time left, and the grief that would arise from any one of them falling in battle now would be a disastrous distraction they simply couldn't afford.  Which is why it's so important for him to prevent that at all costs -- well, that and the fact that he doesn't have it in him to bury more than one of his friends in the same month. But he figures that much goes without saying.

As Rise guides them around dangerous corners and streets choked with powerful shadows, he considers the other side of that equation; what if it wasn't one of the others who met their end here, but himself?  Yukiko's concern hadn't been misplaced. He was the only one able to reach Souji now. If he died while Souji was still the Velvet Room attendant...

Well. He knows exactly what would happen then, doesn't he?

It isn't long before the shadows are on them again, a powerful group of Idols that take them by surprise as they hack their way through layers of police tape to access the corridor beyond.  As they scramble to prepare for battle, one of the Idols immediately bears down on Yosuke, and suddenly, all his speculation about what might happen to him after his death seems set to become terrifyingly relevant.

Even he's not fast enough to dodge the incoming attack, a vicious Ziodyne that arcs across the battlefield to target him and him alone. As he's bringing up his kunai to belatedly guard as best he can, something slams into him hard on his right side and sends him flying safely out of harm’s way – Teddie, who cries out in distress as the attack connects with him instead.

He hits the ground hard, the pavement scraping his hands where they're exposed and tearing up the knees of his jeans, and rolls some distance away. By the time he gathers himself again, Yukiko has already finished healing Teddie, and the battle rages on.  Spurred on by sudden and blinding rage, Yosuke lets out a guttural cry and rejoins the fray, slashing mercilessly with his blades until the shadows are no more.

"We did it!" cries Teddie when they stand victorious.

His celebration is cut short when Yosuke grabs him by the fur of his suit and whirls him around so they're facing each other.

"Never do that again," hisses Yosuke, his voice still raw with anger.  "I mean it."

"B-But Yosuke..." Teddie whines.  “You helped me, so now it’s my turn!  It’s only fair…”

“That’s not how it works, dumbass! Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

"But you've got Sensei's Personas!  If you get hurt..."

"Teddie's right," Naoto interjects calmly, and Yosuke finds himself cursing her infuriatingly level head. "Senpai's power was passed on to you by sheer luck.  If you were killed or gravely injured, we likely wouldn't get another chance with it."

"And don't forget we need you to get Senpai outta that place he's stuck in," Kanji adds.

"I know all that, okay?" Yosuke sighs. "But you don’t gotta kill yourselves on my account.  At least if it's me getting hit I can do so something useful..." When the others look at him curiously, he elaborates.  "It's in my contract, remember?  If I die, I become the next assistant. Souji goes free."

"You haven't seriously considered that, surely...?" asks Naoto.

Yosuke grimaces. "If... if that's what it takes to get him out of there..."

A loud crack deafens his ear and his left cheek explodes in pain.  He recoils, holding his face and staring numbly at Yukiko, standing in front of him with her hand raised defiantly.

"Don't ever say that again," she says.

He blinks, his mouth opening and closing as he fails to find the words to respond.  The others look on in stunned silence, eyes wide and jaws gaping. Slowly, Yukiko lowers her hand, and only then does Yosuke realize his shoulders are tense and drawn back, bracing unconsciously for another blow. 

“Don’t ever say that again,” she repeats, and this time, her voice shakes and there are tears glinting in the corners of her dark eyes.  “He wouldn’t want you to do that.”

Yosuke swallows his embarrassment and shock, and stops cringing, at least partially certain now that she won’t strike him again.  “Of course he wouldn’t,” he says hoarsely.  “But what if that’s the only way?”

“Then we’ll find another one.”

“You don’t know—“

“Yes, I do!” she insists.  “I know what it feels like when you can only see one path in front of you.  You close your mind to every other possibility… You stop considering other ways to do things, other ways to live, and you run away toward the only option you think you have.  But there is always another way.”  She closes her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them again, the brimming tears are gone, and in their place he sees a fiery resolution.  “I know there’s another way.  There has to be.  And if you thought about it, you’d know that, too.”

“Yukiko, you’re…” Yosuke licks his dry lips.  “…Really scary.”

Yukiko looks startled, and blushes a little. “A-am I?”

“Damn, Yukiko-senpai…” says Kanji reverently.  “You’ve got me all fired up!  I feel like I could take on anything right about now.”

“Huh? I was just being honest…”

Yosuke sighs, and smiles weakly, the tension draining out of him.  It had been foolish of him to talk like that out loud and worry the others in the first place – best to take an exit when one presented itself.  “I meant it in a good way,” he insisted.  “Anyway, you’re right.  We’ve got time – I’ll figure something out eventually.  But right now we’ve got bigger things to worry about.”

“Yosuke-senpai, let’s stop for today,” Naoto suggests.  “We’re as ready as we’ll ever be to confront Adachi.  We should rest before closing in on him for good.”

“Yeah, I think that’s for the best.”  Sheepishly, Yosuke turns to Teddie. “Sorry for blowing up at you like that, Ted.  I don’t want you to get yourself vaporized on my account, but… you should help however you think is best.”

“Y-Yosuke…” Teddie sniffs.  “I never knew you cared so much…! I promise I’ll be extra, extra careful from now on!”

“Geez, okay, you don’t have to – oh, come off it, don’t cry on my shirt…”

They head back the way they came, out through Mayumi Yamano’s eerie bedroom and back toward the entrance hall.  When they gather together around the stack of televisions, ready to return to their own world, Yosuke spares a thoughtful look back toward the glowing blue door nearby, and hesitates.

He enters the Velvet Room silently, the stinging reminder of Yukiko's hand on his face now dulled to a mild ache.  To his relief, Igor is not present today. Only Sebastian is here, but seeing him alone doesn't put Yosuke any more at ease; for some reason he's sitting where Yosuke usually does, on the plush passenger bench and opposite the table draped in white cloth, his hands folded neatly in his lap.  He barely looks up to acknowledge Yosuke's arrival.

“We need to talk,” says Sebastian quietly.

Yosuke nods.  By now he's learned Sebastian does nothing without purpose, and seeing him sitting in the spot that should rightfully be his makes him eager to hear him out -- and a little uneasy. Sebastian looks right, sitting there, like Souji had when he'd glimpsed him in the orb. Not like Yosuke, who felt by comparison like an imposter.  "Okay," he says. "But is it all right to do that here?”

“You needn’t worry about being overheard.  My master told me everything.”

Yosuke hesitates at this admission.  After Igor had gone so far as to alter space-time or -- or whatever he'd done to separate them last time, he’d expected more secrecy from him than that.  “He did? Why would he do that?”   

“He had no choice. You did... something to me during our last meeting.  Whatever it was, I wasn't able to shut down that response." Sebastian smiles wryly, an expression Yosuke easily and painfully remembers on Souji's face.  "I don't think I've ever cried before.  If so, I made up for lost time."

"Oh my god. Are you saying... he came clean with you after you cried on him for a few days?"

"More like a few hours. And he didn't break until I used his coat sleeve to wipe my nose.  I was very impressed."

Yosuke laughs despite himself, put more at ease by the unusual lightness of Sebastian mood.  He moves to sit down, but isn't sure where would be best with his seat already occupied.  There's space for him next to Sebastian, but the nightmare where they'd sat together like that comes quickly to his mind, and he immediately looks elsewhere.  He imagines Igor would know if someone were to sit in his chair, and he doesn’t think he wants to find out if that’s the kind of thing that would bother him, so he dismisses that idea out of hand, too. Finally he chooses to take Sebastian's spot on the opposite side of the compartment, with no other option left.  "So I guess the game's up, huh?  He knows everything.  No point in pretending anymore."

"I suppose not."

"Do you... y'know, remember anything?"

Sebastian shakes his head.  "He told me I came from outside the Room -- that I was a friend of yours, not long ago.  That I had been tasked with a tremendous burden and could no longer carry it, due to unrelated events, and left the task to you.  You've told me of the accident before, and the stories seem to match, but I don’t remember any of this happening.  However..." Sebastian exhales wearily.  "Somehow I know neither of you are lying.  I believe both of you.  I really am your friend.”   

“Yeah,” Yosuke breathes.  “You are.  You’re Souji.”   

Sebastian lowers his eyes.  “Souji...” he repeats softly.  There's a vulnerability in his face and voice that renders Yosuke silent, leaving him with the impression of watching a very private moment, of Sebastian attempting to bridge a gap between his current and his past self.  He looks away to give him time for self-reflection -- and when he looks back, the moment has passed, and Sebastian's face is passive again.  "Since that's who I am," he says, suddenly all business, "the rest of it must be true as well."

"The rest of it?"

"I gave you the key, but my master was under no obligation to make a contract with you.  He did so because I asked it of him.  I weighed my options, and decided the place I could be of most use to you was here." Beneath the brim of his cap, Sebastian's expression hardens. "Do you think I'd let you take me away, knowing that?"

Yosuke's stomach drops. "What... what are you saying?! You can't really think that...!"

"I do.  I understand it's painful, but you have a duty to fulfill. And until you do, I will continue to fulfill mine."

"Souji, don't be an idiot! I'm gonna save you!"

"Obviously," says Sebastian, refusing to look at him, "I didn't want you to."

Yosuke shakes his head, unwilling to accept that.  Of all the obstacles he knew he would have to overcome to rescue Souji, he hadn't honestly thought his friend's own refusal would be one of them.  "Don't do this," he begs through gritted teeth. "Don't give up yet. I swear I'll think of something, just… just let me help you for once, dammit!”   

“There is no help for me," says Sebastian, and though Yosuke is prepared to fight that statement tooth and nail, the barest note of regret beneath his steely resolve holds his tongue. "Think rationally. There's no getting around the fact that I’m no longer among the living.  Say your wish is realized and you are able to free me from this place: what happens next?”   

“I… I don’t know…”   

“How would you explain this miracle to your friends?  To my grieving family?”   

“I don’t know, okay?! I'd think of something...”       

Sebastian looks at him then, his gaze leavened with pity. “Your dream is admirable... but impossible.  Returning to the world you came from is not an option for me."

Yosuke sighs and slumps in his seat, rubbing a hand across his tired eyes. They sting and burn behind his fingertips; he bites his lip and doesn't dare blink, not sure he can fight back the surge of despair he feels rising.  When he regains his composure a moment later, he says, every word heavy with regret, "I know it isn't."

Sebastian's gaze softens. "I'm sorry," he says gently. "Whatever my reasons, I don't think I wanted this to cause you such pain. I'm truly sorry."

For a long moment, Yosuke is prepared to let that be the end of it, to tuck those words away with the rest of the condolences he'd received and truly lay Souji to rest, if that was what he really wanted. The temptation passes, however, when he thinks of what the others would say; of how he'll feel every time he looks at Nanako, or sees the deeply buried sorrow on Dojima's face. "Okay," he says. "If you can't come back to our world, there at least has to be a way to get you out of this one. And don't even tell me there isn't; Igor already said you could leave if you wanted."

"Not precisely..."

"But your sister left."

"My sister was only able to leave because I replaced her.”   

“Well," says Yosuke evenly.  "I guess that means someone needs to replace you.”   

Sebastian opens his mouth to respond, and then doesn’t.  His eyes narrow in open suspicion.  “…What are you saying?”   

"You know exactly what I'm saying.  We'll probably catch up with Adachi next time, y'know? Anything can happen.  And if it does..." 

“That’s unacceptable,” Sebastian snaps, his face twisting with anger. “If you don't do everything in your power to prevent that, I will not forgive it.  Do you understand?  I will never forgive you. "

"I won't even remember you. How could I possibly care?"

He would care, of course, somehow, and it killed him to say something like that, to see the undisguised pain cross Sebastian face at such a cold rejection.  That’s strange, Yosuke thinks.  It must be getting more and more difficult for him to mask his emotions, the closer he gets to the truth of who he used to be. "That won't solve anything," says Sebastian after he recovers from his shock. "You'll only leave more pain and grief behind you when you go. And then who will save you from your fate?"

"I dunno. I don't think Igor would let us pass the key on a second time, to be honest." Yosuke shakes his head.  "There wouldn't be any help for me, either."

Sebastian leans back in his seat, his brow furrowed in a startled and worried expression as if realizing something for the first time. "...You mean it, don't you?" he murmurs. "You would take my place to protect me from harm."

"Yeah, well... I mean, not like it'd be the first time…"

Something about that admission unsettles Sebastian. His argumentative demeanor quiets once more, and the gaze that meets Yosuke's is... flustered.  Almost nervous. Yosuke recalls how confused and angry he felt when Teddie tried to protect him earlier, so it's not like he doesn't know why Sebastian would be upset to hear someone was willing to throw their life away for him, but this is... different. Some new thought has occurred to Sebastian, and for the life of him, Yosuke has no idea what it is.

After a moment, Sebastian recovers himself and says quietly, “Regardless, it’s… not a decision I would have you make.  And if what you and my master say is true, then I have sacrificed a great deal to bring you where you are now.  All I can ask is that you please do not waste that effort.”

When Yosuke doesn't respond, Sebastian gets up and moves to Igor's seat, and then gestures to Yosuke that he should move back to his usual spot.  When they're done shuffling around, Yosuke is sitting opposite Sebastian, the plain table between them.  Sebastian waves his hand across its surface, and a spread of tarot cards appears.

"My master has business elsewhere today, but I believe I can stand in for him if you like."

"Usually you make a request first," says Yosuke.  "What do you want me to make?"

Sebastian meets his eyes for a moment; searching, considering.  Finally, he shrugs, the slightest lift of his shoulders.  "Surprise me."

"Come on..." Yosuke whines, but Sebastian simply stares at him expectantly.  "Seriously? No hints? Fine..."

He deliberates for a while, and thinks about what might be most helpful to the team in the coming battle. Yukiko has been heavily taxed lately, he thinks; she never would have snapped at him like that today if she wasn't feeling the strain of keeping everyone going.  Something to help take the healing load off her back might do the trick.  When he's finished his preparations, what he ends up fusing is Kikuri-Hime.  Her card floats gently between them, and Sebastian plucks it delicately from the air.

"This one knows Endure Dark," he notes thoughtfully, recording the Persona's new form in the Compendium.  "Interesting."

"What's interesting?"

Sebastian closes the Compendium when he's finished recording and dismisses Kikuri-hime's card with a wave of his hand, and then leans back in Igor's chair, arms folded and knuckle raised to his lips thoughtfully.  "The Priestess encourages us to look inward for answers.  This is a time for self-reflection and intuition.  I suppose it's time to ask: do you know why I wanted you to bring me these Personas?"

"What do you mean? You said it was to test my potential, didn't you?"

"That was part of it.  But that wasn't my question."

"Why... these Personas? These ones in particular?" Yosuke shakes his head.  "I don't know. I didn't think there was a reason."

"Yes you did, or else you wouldn't have kept doing it"

Yosuke bites his lip, suddenly embarrassed; there is a reason, he knows, but he never thought he'd be forced to admit it to Sebastian directly.  "Uhh... well, sometimes after you see them... I dunno, it's like a curtain parts.  I see little glimpses of him in you.  I guess at first I just wanted to... to see him again." He's about to let it end there, but the admission leaves him feeling exposed, and he hurriedly adds, "Then I thought maybe if I kept doing it, some part of you would remember something."

"So you know what you wanted from it. But what did I want?"

"...I don't know," Yosuke realizes aloud.

Sebastian nods, as if he expected as much. "Then you should think on it for a while."

"Aww, c'mon. Can't you just tell me?"

"Only if you can't figure it out on your own."

Only if you can't figure it out on your own, said Souji, as Yosuke pouted at him over the top of their math homework.  He was so stubborn sometimes, Yosuke thought, and that part of him was definitely infuriating, but he could see where he was coming from.  If he solved this problem on his own, he'd be able to do it next time without relying on Souji so much, and that appealed to his need to be his equal--

"Fine," says Yosuke, giving in with a small smile.  "You really are getting more and more like him, y'know?  Okay. I'll play it your way.  But you have to do some thinking of your own."

"About what?" asks Sebastian.

Yosuke knows where he went wrong now.  The reason the decision to save Souji or to leave him here weighs too heavily on him is because it’s not his decision to make.  So finally, after weeks of asking the wrong person, he says to Sebastian, “Would you want to leave if you could?”

"I told you I don't.  It's not possible."

"That wasn't my question."  When Sebastian frowns, Yosuke continues.  "I get that you made a choice.  And I know you don't even have... a body to go back to or anything like that.  But if you didn't have to stay and help me, if you could... if you could just leave, no strings attached. Would you want to?”   

Sebastian lowers his eyes.  “I... don’t know.  This place is where I’m needed, where I belong. But the more time I spend with you, the more I feel… confined.  And afraid.  Like something is happening outside that door and I’m missing it.  I honestly don’t know which is the right path anymore.”

"So I guess we've both got some thinking to do, huh?"

"Yes... I suppose so."

Yosuke stands, his business concluded.  "We've got a big fight ahead of us.  I don't think I'll be back until it's over, so... wish me luck?"

"Good luck," says Sebastian, smiling faintly. When Yosuke turns to leave, he makes an uncertain sound that draws his attention back.  “Before you go… um…"

Yosuke blinks as Sebastian leaps to his feet and bumps his knees off the small table in a rare show of uncoordinated movement.  "Uh... Yes?"

"Before you go..." Sebastian stammers and can't quite meet his gaze, and Yosuke is alarmed to realize in the dim light that his pale face has definitely turned a light shade of pink. “…Do you think I could go with you next time?”   

“Go where?”   

“Wherever you like.  I have no other requests for you, and I, um… I wouldn’t want this to be our last meeting.”

Yosuke's feels his own face slowly turning red in what surely must be sympathy embarrassment.  He's pretty sure Sebastian just asked him out on a date, but is also pretty sure Sebastian has no frame of reference to even really know what that means, so... Maybe it didn't count.  Shit.  Did he want it to count?  Shit.  "Uh... Y-yeah, all right.  Sure. When we finish this thing, I'll come back."

Sebastian's face lights up with a smile, and Yosuke's face burns hotter.  "Thank you. Then... I'll see you again."

Yosuke half-mumbles an affirmative and slips out of the Velvet Room as quickly as possible, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.

"All right, time to go home," Kanji says when Yosuke arrives in the entrance hall, and Yosuke agrees along with everyone else, who as usual have no clue he had even been away in the Room.

"Hmm? Yosuke-kun, are you feeling well?" Yukiko asks.  "Your face is flushed..."

"Isn't that just from where you hit him?" asks Chie.

"Oh, is it really? I'm so sorry..."

Yosuke shakes his head. "N-no, that's not it.  I'm fine.  But, uh... thanks.  For looking out for me."

Yukiko smiles, with genuine warmth behind it. "Of course."

They leave though the stack of TV with a promise to return tomorrow, to bring an end to this thing they had started at long last.

Dec 24, 2011

“Wait a sec…” Adachi holds up his hands -- one empty, the other holding his gun -- and frowns.  “One of you’s missing.”

The breath stills in Yosuke’s lungs.  They stand on the edge of the broken road at the end of Magatsu Inaba, nowhere to go but downward into formless nothing, and though they’ve got Adachi backed up against the void, those words suddenly make Yosuke feel as though it’s the other way around.

“Where’s Souji-kun? He’s your little ringleader, isn’t he?”  Adachi waits for an answer, and when they can’t provide one, a grin slinks crookedly across his face.  “Oh man… he didn’t make it, huh? I thought something was weird when you guys kept coming in here without him…”

“Shut your goddamn mouth…” Kanji growls.

Adachi clicks his tongue.  “That’s too bad.  I was looking forward to seeing what our golden boy could really do.  But he went and bit the dust like the rest of us mere mortals, huh?  Guess he wasn’t really so special after all.” 

Next to Yosuke, Chie bristles, her fists shaking with the effort of restraining herself from simply rushing ahead and kicking in Adachi’s teeth.  Yosuke sympathizes.  “You bastard…! How dare you…”

“Chie, don’t,” Yukiko warns.  “He’s trying to make us lose focus…”

“Ahh, man, I wanted to show him something, too,” Adachi continues, clutching his head as an ominous red light begins to emanate from his body.  “I wanted to see the look on his face when I showed him just how special he wasn’t!”

“Something’s happening, get ready!” Yosuke orders, and the others drop into battle stances all around him.

Adachi’s body spasms and he shouts in agony – and with an ear-piercing sound like shattering glass that they all recognize, a calamitous red and black Persona materializes above him.

It’s Izanagi.  Yosuke’s heart stops.

The shock is enough to let Adachi’s Persona get the first attack in, and it dives toward them with its massive blade flashing wickedly fast, tearing through their ranks effortlessly with a devastating attack before they can gather their wits to defend themselves.  Yosuke staggers back to his feet as Rise feeds him a status report – Naoto-kun needs healing, Chie-senpai’s hurt, Kanji-kun’s too scared to move! – and grits his teeth as the monstrous Izanagi comes around for another assault.

“Yukiko, bring it down!” Yosuke orders, mentally switching Personas to his newly-created Kikuri-Hime to handle the healing for now. “And someone calm Kanji down before—“

“Yosuke-senpai, move!” Rise screeches.

Haunting purple sigils appear in the air before him, draining the warmth out of the air and his body with their ghastly light, and Yosuke knows it’s too late.  The Mudoon spell flashes and blinds him as it connects, and everything turns to white – and then to black. 

And then he falls.

But somehow, he remains conscious.  His heart beats, once, and then again, and he gasps for one more breath than he should have right now. The blood is still pumping in his veins and he still has the strength to stand, so he does, though just barely.  It's enough for him to be able to summon Kikuri-Hime to heal himself a little, and in that space of time Yukiko is able to do the rest. 

And then the battle continues, rescued from the brink of disaster.  They summon the will to fight, and keep fighting.

For the most part they’re quiet as they lead Adachi back with them to the entrance hall, too exhausted and shaken by the battle with him and the one that had followed it to speak unless necessary.  Yukiko is the one who breaks the silence, glancing over at Yosuke as he’s lost in his own thoughts.

"For a moment I thought you were going to get what you were looking for," she says solemnly. "It was lucky you weren't killed, Yosuke-kun."

 He's been thinking about that since the battle ended, replaying those moments over and over in his mind.  That one spark of life left in him after he'd fallen, that feeling of Kikuri-Hime urging him on past the very end.  "I don't think it was luck," he replies, and though she tilts her head quizzically, he has nothing more to say.

Chapter Text

Teddie is snoring loudly in his futon on the other side of the room, but for once that isn’t why Yosuke can’t sleep.

They’d healed up after battle as usual, careful to mend all their visible injuries before returning to their own world, but healing never does quite erase the aching exhaustion he always feels after fighting.  Normally he would come home, devour whatever leftover dinner he found in the fridge, collapse into bed, and sleep so hard his alarm couldn’t even wake him in the morning -- but tonight he can’t do anything but stare at the ceiling, wide awake.

He should be dead.  For the first time in weeks he’s genuinely glad he’s not, but he should be.  Getting himself killed in a confrontation with the person responsible for Saki-senpai’s death had always been a real possibility -- one he would have thought fitting, once, when his primary concern was still playing hero, and one he’s ashamed to admit now that he’d wished for, in those first agonizing days after the accident.  But he’s not dead, by the narrowest margin, and finally he understands why.

He checks the time on his phone.  10:00 pm on Christmas Eve.  The fog that had been keeping people at home lately has lifted at long last, but maybe it’s late enough that the streets will be empty anyway…

Yosuke gets dressed in the dark, as silently as possible, and grabs his bag before tiptoeing around Teddie’s futon and out the door.

The lights are out at Naoto’s apartment. He thinks about knocking softly on her door to clear this with her first, but decides he doesn’t want to bother her if she’s sleeping.  Yosuke would be surprised if any of the others were still awake after what they went through today; the only reason he hasn’t passed out from exhaustion himself is the niggling thought that won’t leave him alone, after all.

Besides, she’d given him the keys and told him it was fine.  And he’ll be careful enough now to bring it back in one piece.

There’s no masking the sound of the scooter revving to life, so he nudges it out of the storage space as quickly as possible, making sure to shut and lock the door behind him before maneuvering into the quiet streets of Inaba and heading toward the shopping district. He’s wrapped in his winter jacket, but the night air is still too chilly on the exposed skin of his face and hands as he rides.  He’s numb almost immediately.  He likes that; it’s easier that way to imagine this is a dream, or happening to someone else entirely.  If he stops to think about what he’s doing, he’s not sure he’ll be able to focus long enough to actually get to his destination. 

He takes it slowly, and treats every intersection as an approaching disaster. 

By the time he makes it to the shopping district, his arms and legs already feel exhausted from tension.  This might not be the best idea he’s ever had, but he doesn’t know how else he can possibly get away with it.  He parks the scooter on the side of the road outside the Velvet Room, and goes inside.

Both Sebastian and Igor are there tonight.  Igor nods his head genially in Yosuke’s direction, and says, “Welcome. Congratulations on your hard-won victory. You must be very proud.”

“…Thanks,” says Yosuke cautiously, still not quite sure what to make of Igor.  So far he’s issued plenty of warnings, but taken no concrete action against them, and given the nature of the contract, Yosuke’s pretty sure he simply won’t have to.  He nods his head toward Sebastian, who sits in his seat near the train compartment window and looks at him with barely-concealed expectation.  “I’m not here on business right now though.  I’m here to see him.”

Sebastian places the Compendium on the small table in front of Igor, and stands.  “Are we going somewhere?”  he asks.  When Yosuke nods, he bows politely in Igor’s direction. “Very well. Your permission to leave, master?”

“Granted,” says Igor pleasantly.  Yosuke is surprised by his cooperative attitude at first, but he supposes there’s no reason to be; it’s not like physically leaving the Room is enough to unchain Souji from his fate.  This is only a lengthening of the leash for a while.  “Do be careful, Sebastian.”

“Of course.  Thank you, master.  I won’t be away long.”

With permission secured, Yosuke leads Sebastian out of the Velvet Room before Igor can change his mind, and takes him to where he parked the scooter.

“The fog has lifted,” Sebastian notes with a satisfied smile.  “Your world looks so different now. Thank you for allowing me to see it.”

“No problem. Sorry about the short notice,” says Yosuke.  “I couldn’t sleep after all that, so I figured I’d see if you still wanted to go somewhere.”

“I do,” Sebastian confirms, and his expression is so full of gratitude and relief that Yosuke is slightly embarrassed.  It really doesn’t take much to please him, does it?   “Thank you for returning. More importantly, thank you for returning safely.”

“Y-yeah… well, that’s kinda what I wanted to talk to you about…” Yosuke gestures toward the scooter.  “Anyway, we should get going.  Hopefully we don’t get stopped, you’re not supposed to ride these things with someone on the back of it.  I don’t think there’s anyone around to see us though, so it should be fine…”

“You seem worried.  Are you sure it’s all right for me to be with you?”

“Yeah.  But keep your head down, all right?” says Yosuke, as he climbs onto the seat and Sebastian settles behind him.  “I didn’t see anyone on my way here, but we can’t risk someone recognizing you and—“

“How about this?” Sebastian asks, and when Yosuke turns around, he has a completely different face and wardrobe – dark hair, glasses, and a winter parka are all Yosuke can see, and he recoils in alarm.  “No good?”

“Geez… warn me next time you’re gonna do that, would you?” Yosuke sighs.  “Actually, that’s a pretty good idea.  I can always make up some story as long as no one recognizes you...  All right. Make sure to hang on tight, okay? Oh, and wear this.”

Sebastian takes the helmet Yosuke offers him, and stares at it reproachfully.  “There’s only one.  You should wear it.”

“I’ll be fine. Go ahead, put it on.”

“I insist,” Sebastian argues.  When Yosuke starts to grumble, he adds, “I understand why you’d prefer that I wear it, but trust me, it’s not necessary.  If something happens, I will survive.  You will not.  Please, do this for my sake.”

Yosuke has no choice but to concede the point, eager to move on before someone sees him riding this scooter with a complete stranger, and straps on the helmet. 

Driving the scooter with Sebastian pressed up against his back is every bit as unnerving as he’d feared it would be.  It’s impossible not to remember when it was Souji doing the same thing, and when Sebastian’s arms curl around his waist as they zip through the empty streets of Inaba, Yosuke feels the panic start to rise in his chest.   Maneuvering with two people is a little easier with the scooter – it’s lower to the ground and the extra weight on the back doesn’t upset the balance as much as it did with his bike, but he can’t fully suppress the fear that something is going to strike them out of nowhere, that the worst is going to happen a second time.  Logically he knows nothing’s going to happen, and that even if it did Sebastian would be unhurt, but the knowledge does nothing to calm the cold dread spreading through his chest or to quiet his pounding heart.

“We don’t have to do this,” says Sebastian in his ear, sensing his unease.  “There’s no need to—“

“Yeah, we do,” Yosuke shouts back.  “It’s too dangerous to stay in town, someone might see us.  We need to go a little further.”

“Okay,” says Sebastian, his arms tightening around his waist.  “I trust you.”

The ride is agonizing, and Yosuke desperately wants to stop about every five minutes.  But Sebastian’s weight against his back is a constant and reassuring presence that carries him through each swell of fear and doubt, and each time the urge to stop rises, it eventually passes as well. 

The beach is cold and serene and utterly deserted at this time of night, just as Yosuke had hoped.  The moon is bright enough for them to see the whitecaps as they crash into the shore, a stretch of sand that goes undisturbed for as far as they can see.  The smell of salt and seaweed permeates everything, but it’s so nostalgic somehow that Yosuke doesn’t mind.  He sits down in the sand halfway up the slope between the shoreline and the road, exhausted and grateful not to be on a moving vehicle anymore, and after surveying the ground dubiously, Sebastian joins him. 

“It would’ve been nice to come here this summer,” Yosuke muses aloud, as he watches the waves rolling in. “We never had the chance though.  It would’ve been cool to go swimming with everyone.”

“I’ve never seen the ocean before,” Sebastian remarks.

“I’m sure you have,” says Yosuke, but then he pauses, and frowns.  “Actually… I don’t know if that’s true or not.  There’s a lot about you I never knew.  Well, uh… what d’you think?”

Sebastian smiles and says, “It’s beautiful.”

Now that they’re alone and far away from the possibility of anyone recognizing him, he’s reverted back to looking like Souji.  He removes his conductor’s hat and lets the breeze ruffle his hair, seemingly immune to the cold, an utterly peaceful expression on his face that transfixes Yosuke when he notices it. 

“You don’t get to leave the Velvet Room often, huh?” he surmises.

“No. I suppose I could have explored a little on my own, but there was no reason to, and nothing that held my interest.”

“What changed your mind?”

“You did,” says Sebastian. “I wanted to see the world where you lived.  The world where we lived, together.”

The heat crawling up his neck and face is that much more noticeable in the cold wind, and Yosuke laughs to stave it off.  “Sorry there’s not much here to show you.  I could have taken you other places in town, but it’d be too dangerous...”

“That’s fine.  This is enough for me.”  Sebastian smiles at him. “Thank you for bringing me here.  Seeing the world you fought hard to protect makes me feel like I understand you a little more. I’m very grateful I was able to help you complete your task.”

A long, comfortable silence envelops them as they sit together on the sand, watching the waves creep closer and closer up the shore toward them.  Yosuke closes his eyes and listens to the sound of the ocean, a rhythmic crash of water on land that’s as soothing and steady as breathing.  For the first time in a long while, he feels completely safe – and the person responsible for that impossible achievement is sitting next to him, apparently as equally at peace.  After all the chaos and suffering of the last month, Yosuke is extremely grateful to the universe for giving him this one quiet moment.

“I think I get it now,” he says eventually.  “All those Personas you had me create.  You were trying to protect me with them, right?”

Sebastian smiles brightly, evidently pleased that he had been able to figure it out on his own after all. “Yes. I was.  Healing and defensive arts seemed the best way to do that.”

“And that last one? The one I created on my own?”

“Kikuri-Hime, with Endure Dark.  Did you find it useful?”

Yosuke laughs incredulously.  “You have no idea.  It totally saved my skin.”

“I’m glad.  That’s why I was so impressed when you created it without my input.  Through your intuition and insight, it seemed you knew on some level what my intentions toward you were.”  Sebastian’s affectionate expression softens further, and he makes a thoughtful noise.  “It was confusing, at first.  Obviously I was contracted to assist you from the beginning, that part was clear.  But before long I began feeling compelled to help you.  Wanting things wasn’t part of my duties, and yet I wanted to help you.  I felt so clearly and strongly that it was the right thing to do.”

“You mentioned that a few times,” says Yosuke.  “You said you were supposed to be a ‘neutral influence’, but then sometimes you’d say things like… you’d fight to protect me, or you didn’t want me to get hurt.  That’s why I was so sure you had to be Souji, y’know? It just made sense.”

“I guess you were right.  I felt as if by helping you in this way, it was almost like I could fight alongside you, even though you were far beyond my reach.”  Sebastian shrugs.  “Perhaps my other self planned it that way.”

Yosuke laughs at that.  “Man… of course you did. That’s so like you, huh?”

Sebastian sits quietly for a moment, swooping lines through the sand with his gloved fingertips as he considers Yosuke’s words.  “Was it?” he asks softly.

“Yeah.  Saying Souji might have planned this somehow? That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“…What sort of person was I?”

“You were… I dunno.  You were amazing.  I can’t really explain it…”

“Can you try?”

Yosuke hesitates a moment; he’s pleased that Sebastian is becoming more curious about his former life, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. But regardless of what effect it’ll have, if any, the hopeful look Sebastian gives him is enough to convince Yosuke to take this seriously, for his sake at least.  This is obviously important to him.  “You were…” he begins slowly. “Honestly, you were whatever we needed you to be.  You were the kind of guy people would follow to the end of the earth, y’know? You were brave, and like, amazingly smart.  Stupid sometimes, too, but mostly smart.  You always thought ahead.  That’s why we trusted you so much, it was like… no matter what was going on, you had it figured out.  And if you didn’t, then we knew that we’d figure it out together, so it was okay.”

Sebastian wraps his arms around his knees and watches him intently as he listens to him talk, and it makes Yosuke feel a little self-conscious, so he stops, wondering if that’s enough to satisfy his curiosity.  Evidently not, however, since Sebastian’s next question is, “Did we know each other long?”

“No… not really.  Less than a year.”

“But we were close?”

“Uh… yeah. I guess you’d say that…”

“I’m sorry if these questions are strange.  I’m trying to rationalize what happened to me,” Sebastian explains.  “The compulsion to help you was surprisingly strong; I doubt it would have been if we hadn’t been close to each other.  I want to understand this as well as I can.”

Yosuke nods.  “Yeah, okay. I get that.  I guess we didn’t know each other very long, but… you were my best friend, and I never really had someone I could call that before.  We were a team, y’know?  We had each other’s backs, no matter what.”  He bows his head a little, picks up a fistful of sand and lets it slide through his fingers as he speaks.  “So when you… you know.  When you were gone, I’ve never been so… I had to get you back, no matter what.  We needed you.  I needed you.  Not just for the case, but for everything.  You… you walked to school with me, you made me the best lunches I’ve ever had, you helped me out at work when you totally didn’t have to.  We’d go to your house and I’d see how happy Nanako-chan looked when you were with her, and I started to think, maybe this town’s not such a terrible place after all.  Like how could somewhere you lived be so bad?”

“I see... And that’s why you sought my freedom so desperately, isn’t it?” When Yosuke nods, Sebastian does as well, seemingly satisfied with the conclusion he’s drawn.  “I’m sorry I couldn’t appreciate the strength of your conviction before.  I believe I understand it now. You must have loved me deeply, to go to such lengths for me.”

Yosuke flinches.  “It’s not… Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like -- that. That means something different, okay?  Don’t say that.”

“I don’t understand,” says Sebastian, frowning deeply. “Isn’t that how I felt about you?”

“I— I don’t—“

“I wanted to continue fighting by your side, in whatever way I could.  I trusted you to complete the task I failed.  Even now, the drive to protect you is so strong I can’t shut it out.” Sebastian chews his lower lip thoughtfully. “I think… I probably loved you more than anything.”

Yosuke feels his face burning red-hot in the chilly December air, and there’s no way he can hide it.  It isn’t that he’s dismayed to hear those words exactly – more that it doesn’t feel right to hear someone who isn’t really Souji speaking on Souji’s behalf.  He knows with all his heart that Souji is in there somewhere, behind the otherworldly eyes and the calm exterior – but Sebastian isn’t Souji.  Not when it comes to something like this.  The silence is leaning awkward, however, so he rushes to construct an explanation that will reassure both of them. “M-maybe that’s true, but… it wasn’t me you did all that for. It was the team. You wanted us to finish this, and I… I just happened to be there at the right time. There was no other way. That’s all.”

“...Maybe I’m confused, then,” Sebastian concedes, his head bowed in thought. “Maybe that’s just how I feel now.”

Yosuke stares openly at him, struck speechless by the offhand confession.  But before he can even begin to figure out how to respond, Sebastian recants.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he acknowledges quietly.  “I know looking at me isn’t… easy for you.  And whatever you think of me will always be bound up in what you think of him. I don’t know if it’s possible for you to separate us, and… I understand that.  But something you said to me yesterday resonated with me: your willingness to replace me as the Velvet Room attendant, with no concern for your own well-being.  I suspected the strength and nature of our bond when you said that, but it also made me realize something with surprising clarity: that I would do the same for you, and that more than anything…” Sebastian shakes his head.  “I didn’t want you to.  And not just because it would mean my sacrifice had been wasted.”

Yosuke sits there anxiously clutching fistfuls of sand, his face lit up like a lantern and too scared of what his voice will sound like to say anything at first.  Physically incapable of responding, he shakes his head and hides his face in his coat sleeves, his knees tucked up tight under his chin.

“Um…” says Sebastian.  “Yosuke…?”

“Yeah,” he squeaks. “Just… give me a minute…”

Sebastian chuckles softly.  “Forgive me. You don’t need to say anything.  In the same way I wanted to understand your motivations, I simply wanted you to understand mine.”  When Yosuke dares to lift his head from his sleeves, Sebastian smiles warmly at him.  “Yosuke… You asked me to think about whether I’d want to leave the Velvet Room if I could.  I think it’s only fair to tell you that… the answer is still no.”

“Yeah…” Yosuke swallows hard.  “I knew that.”

Sebastian blinks in surprise.  “You did?”

Yosuke sighs wearily, resigned to the truth, no matter how painful it was to face.  The instant Sebastian had made the distinction between himself and Souji -- between a person Yosuke loved and a person who loved Yosuke -- he’d known it was over. Igor's compliance in allowing Sebastian to leave the Room tonight only confirmed his suspicion; there was no reason for him to be concerned about him leaving when he'd already made the decision not to leave. “Yeah.  I get it. Souji was a person who belonged to this world, but… Sebastian isn’t.  You’re a different person now… you’re your own person.  It wasn’t supposed to happen, but you’ve never known any life other than the one you have now, in the Velvet Room as an assistant.  And taking you away from that life wouldn’t be any more right than taking Souji away from his.”  He shakes his head.  “And I hate it, I really, really hate it, but… I know that’s how it has to be.”

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian says, and the genuine remorse Yosuke hears in his voice makes it all the more difficult to bear. 

“Don’t be,” says Yosuke, straightening his back and forcing a smile.  “It always had to be your choice.”

“Thank you for understanding.”  There’s such unguarded affection in Sebastian’s eyes that Yosuke finds it difficult to look back.  “You were truly an exceptional guest.”

The ride back to the shopping district is quiet and over too quickly.  Beneath the numbness of the cold, there’s still fear in Yosuke’s heart when Sebastian grips him around his waist – but now the source of the fear is very, very different.

They stand in front of the Velvet Room door, preparing to go their separate ways, neither of them quite knowing what to say or how they should say it.  Yosuke starts to speak first and is interrupted by Sebastian, who stops talking immediately.  Yosuke gestures toward him to indicate he should go ahead.

“Please don’t regret the way things turned out,” Sebastian says softly.  “I’ll be fine.  Protecting you was my purpose.  Knowing that you’re safe and happy is all I need to know peace, and eventually, I will find a new purpose.”

“And what about me?” asks Yosuke miserably.  “What am I supposed to do? Drop in to visit you once a week?  I can’t keep sneaking you out like this…”

Sebastian’s expression turns slightly pitying.  “Coming back to see me isn’t going to make things easier for you.  You know that.”

Yosuke shuts his eyes tight and nods, even if that's a truth he's not quite ready to accept yet. “I know...”

Sebastian places a hand over his heart and bows low.  When he stands up, he’s smiling fondly.  “Please take care.  It was an honor to be your assistant, Yosuke.  And your friend.”

There’s nothing left for Yosuke to say.  It’s the rush of the moment that seizes him then, the feeling that if he doesn’t take action right now he’ll never have another chance -- and maybe that’s not particularly smart of him, but he doesn’t care anymore.  What harm can it possibly do? It’s not like he’ll have to face Souji at school tomorrow, and the thought makes his heart sick, but also fills him with reckless courage.

So he leans toward Sebastian, the slightest push forward, and kisses him gently on the lips.  It’s over in two seconds, and when he steps back, Sebastian is wide-eyed and flushing scarlet, a hand pressed over his mouth.

“Goodbye, Sebastian,” says Yosuke, his voice shaking only a little.

Sorrow fills Sebastian’s face for a fraction of an instant before he regains control of himself, and then he nods, turns, and disappears back into the Velvet Room.  The door slams heavy behind him after he’s gone.

Yosuke stands on the empty street of the shopping district as the snow begins to fall and tilts his face toward the sky, his shoulders shaking with the effort of suppressing a sob as the first tears leave freezing wet trails down his cheeks. 

Chapter Text

March 20, 2012

Even with the help of a stepladder, Yosuke has to stand on his toes to reach the top of the stack of boxes on the highest shelf in the Junes storage room.  He must be breaking a dozen employee safety rules right now, but he doesn’t really care.  Ever since his arm had finally recovered enough strength to lift a box over his head and he could work a full shift without his leg aching, he’s been too stubborn to ask anyone else for help with stuff like this.  Not being able to do those basic aspects of his job on his own had bothered him more than even he’d realized.

“Yoooosukeeeee…”

Yosuke teeters on top of the ladder, the next box to come down resting precariously on top of his head. “Over here, Ted,” he calls back, trying to concentrate on not dropping his precious cargo.  “Hey, aren’t you on break?”

“Special deliveryyyy,” Teddie sings, his voice getting louder from somewhere among the maze of storeroom shelves as he approaches.  He pops his head around a corner just as Yosuke manages to get the box down to the floor without breaking it or his own neck. “It’s a letter for you!”

Yosuke frowns.  “A letter? Did someone go home to get the mail?”

“Nope! It came here! To your dad’s office.”

“Huh.” Yosuke takes the envelope from Teddie and looks it over front and back, searching for a return address, but there isn’t one.  Who the hell would send him a letter here instead of to his house?  “That’s kinda weird. Thanks.”

“Open it! I wanna read!”

“What? No way am I letting you read my mail. Get out of here.”

“Yooooosukeeeeee…”

“Ugh, fine! Geez…” He rips open the end of the envelope and pulls the letter out, unfolding it with more force and flair than is probably warranted.  But when he quickly scans the contents to make sure it’s not something he wouldn’t want Teddie to see, he suddenly can’t find his voice to read it aloud.

“Yosuke…?”

He clutches the paper so hard the knuckles of his shaking hands turn white.  There’s no way there’s anything to this; it’s some kind of sick joke at their expense, one last parting shot from that worthless bastard they put behind bars.  That has to be it.

But if it’s not…

“We need to call the others,” Yosuke declares.  “As soon as possible.”

“Do you think we’re really ready for this?” Yukiko asks.

They sit around the covered table in the Junes food court in silence and serious thought as the rain pelts the wood above their heads.  The letter from Adachi – the one that had quickly prompted them to reconsider the status of the murder case as “closed” – sits open on the tabletop in front of Yosuke, and he stares at it.  Not like he wants to incinerate it – that thought had come and gone when he’d read it in the warehouse – but like it still has some secret to offer, some hope they can cling to now when they need it most.

The person who’d called herself “Izanami” had taken away what little of that they’d managed to collect.

“Senpai was the one who met her, right?” asks Rise. “When he first came to Inaba? Maybe he can help us.”

“Yeah. Maybe he can,” Chie agrees, and Yosuke feels his shoulders tense uncomfortably.

“So what are we waiting for? We could use all the help we can get right now. Why don’t we go ask him?”

“I dunno,” continues Chie flatly, looking at Yosuke this time.  “Why don’t we?”

“Stop it,” Yosuke snaps at her.  “It’s not my fault, okay?  He doesn’t want me to go back.”

“He’ll understand though, won’t he?” Rise presses.  “This is kind of an emergency…”

“Rise-san,” Naoto interjects gently, “Souji-senpai made his choice.”

They fall silent at that reminder, and Chie huffs a little, but doesn’t argue her point any further.  Yosuke bites his lip.  It’s not that she’d been the only one to take the news about Souji and his choice badly, but she’s the only one who feels comfortable confronting him about it in front of the others -- which she does, often.  Yukiko had sided with Chie at first, naturally, but was too level-headed too pick a fight about it, and in time she became more of a mediator in their arguments.  Naoto had been pragmatic enough to understand, thankfully, and her influence among Kanji and Rise, along with their collective desire to show respect to their Senpai, had mitigited their disappointment at least a little. Teddie had grown despondent, but also strangely sensitive to Yosuke’s own struggle to accept Souji’s decision, and hardly spoke a word about it.

Everyone has their own way of coping, Yosuke thinks, which is fine.  It just makes disagreements like this one especially hard to handle.

“I’m not saying we have to bother him about… that…” says Rise.  “But there has to be something he can do, right? We’re not alone on this, are we…?”

Kanji nods.  “Yeah.  I say ask ‘im.  Worst he can say is ‘no’, right?”

“Yosuke-senpai,” says Naoto, “Souji-senpai’s request for you not to go back was for your sake, was it not? Don’t you think he would understand if the reason you returned was for your sake as well?”

Yosuke sighs, long and slow, and rubs away the ache at the bridge of his nose.  “All right, maybe you have a point. We are kinda outmatched right now.”

“You’ll reconsider, then?”

“Yeah. I’ll ask him. Just don’t,” he says pointedly, catching Teddie and Rise halfway to rising up out of their seats in excitement, “expect a miracle, okay? And don’t expect him to change his mind about coming back.  If he helps us at all, it’ll be on his terms.”

“That’ll have to do for now,” says Naoto.  “Now, about preparations…”

They agree to go home and gather what they need to venture into the other world one last time, and then meet back at Junes when they’re done.  When Yukiko asks Chie if she’s coming along and Chie responds that she’ll just be a minute, Yosuke steels himself for the argument he knows is coming.

“Will you really do it?” Chie asks, when everyone’s gone their separate ways and they’re alone.  “You’ll go to Souji for help?”

“Yeah.” He heads for the elevator, and she follows closely on his heels.  “I haven’t even thought about Personas in a while; I’ll need to go see him anyway to get ready to fight.”

“And then what?”

“That’s up to him. I can’t force him to leave, Chie.”

“You never tried!”

He flinches at that, stung by the cold and hurtful accusation, but it’s too late to run away – the elevator doors slide shut and they’re descending, effectively forcing him to deal with this.  “What the hell, Chie, you know that’s not true! Why are you acting like this, anyway? You said – you promised you would back me up.  Remember?  You said you had my back!”

“I do!  Yosuke…” She shakes her head.  “I’m trying to make you understand. I’m hard on you about this because I promised to have your back. That’s my responsibility now!  I want you to do the right thing, for everyone’s sake – mine, yours, and Souji’s.”

“I told you -- he’s not Souji anymore.  He’s a different person now, he doesn’t want to leave. How can I make him do something he doesn’t want to?”

“Give him a reason!  He doesn’t remember us – you, me, any of this!  Of course he chose to stay, dumbass, he barely had any idea what he was leaving behind!”

Yosuke reflexively clutches the Velvet Room key, tucked deep in the pocket of his coat, and when he does, his fingers brush Adachi’s folded-up letter.  “Nothing I did was any good,” he says, quietly enough to apparently calm Chie’s outrage.  “…Do you really think this will be enough to bring him back?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs.  “And… I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it – I know you tried.  You did your best.  But you can’t give up, okay? As long as there’s the slightest chance to get him out of there… even if he doesn’t want you to…”

“I haven’t given up,” he insists.  “I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

She remains silent at that, apparently at as much of a loss as him, until the elevator slows its descent and the doors open at the ground floor lobby.

“C’mon,” she says, nudging him with her elbow, “we’ve got work to do.”  And though it’s a far cry from the good terms they used to be on, it’s an improvement, and Yosuke follows her out into town without complaint.

There’s an eerie calm and quiet in the Velvet Room when Yosuke arrives.  The train is still moving; he can still hear the clack of wheels and the chugging of the engine somewhere far away, can still feel the ground shift beneath his feet, but the air is somehow quieter now.  Igor is sitting alone, lost in thought.  Sebastian is not there.

“Ahh… you’ve returned,” says Igor, turning slowly and greeting Yosuke with uncharacteristic trepidation.  “It seems you have need of our services once again.  Please, sit.”

“It wasn’t over after all,” Yosuke explains, as he sits in his designated spot across from Igor.  “I need the Compendium. Sebastian isn’t here?”

“No… I’m afraid not.  It would seem he has business elsewhere, today, and he’s taken the Compendium with him.”

Yosuke doesn’t have a chance to inquire further before Igor leans forward and taps a slender finger against a card lying face-down on the table.  It isn’t a tarot card, he belatedly notices.  Igor slides the card toward him, and Yosuke picks it up, but he doesn’t recognize the handwriting.

“I’ll be waiting for you at Heaven’s End,” he reads aloud. He flips the card over, but there’s no sender.  “What’s this about?”

“Sebastian has received a challenge from his sister,” Igor explains.  “He has gone to confront her.”

“His sister? You mean Margaret?”

“Yes.  It seems Margaret has at last returned from her journey.”

“Wait, back up,” says Yosuke, his mind and heart racing.  “What do you mean, ‘confront her’? Is she going to do something to him?”

Igor hesitates a moment; he stares at Yosuke with his creepy, bulging, searching eyes, possibly weighing how much he should divulge about the whereabouts of his servants. At length, he says, “There is only one reason she would call him away from me in order to meet with him: I believe she means to test his strength in battle.”

“Shit,” Yosuke swears aloud.  “And you just let him go?  You’ve been trying to keep him here for months, and now you decide he can go off on his own?!”

“There must always be an attendant,” Igor reminds him.  “Tell me: if he’d left before now, would you have replaced him?”

“Yes. I would have.”

Igor scoffs. “Foolishness. Your task was of the utmost importance, and you had mere weeks to complete it.  There was no point to Sebastian leaving while your task was unfulfilled; you would have replaced him willingly, and then someone would have replaced you -- an endless, fruitless cycle of noble self-sacrifice and suffering.  And your task would have gone unfinished.  Sebastian could not be allowed to leave under those circumstances.”

“And now…?”

“Now – what does it matter? Your destiny is complete.  The terms of the contract were to assist you, and we have fulfilled our end.  Sebastian must remain here as the attendant, but he is permitted to move freely outside the Room.  Unfortunately… Margaret knows this, and has drawn him away.”

“I don’t like the way you’re talking about her,” Yosuke says warily.  “Is he in danger?”

“Sebastian is very intelligent, but his youth and inexperience will hinder him.” Igor shakes his head.  “He is no match for Margaret.  I fear for his safety.” 

“Then we can’t just let him go!”

Igor’s voice turns surprisingly soft and contemplative as he says, “No, we cannot. It is… unusual for me to ask favors, so I will ask only one of you.  I know you do not understand our ways here, but Sebastian truly believes in the value of the work he has done as my servant, and as your assistant.  He does not deserve to suffer needlessly, and I would not wish it upon him.  Please find him, and ensure his safe return.”

Yosuke nods. “I will.”

“One more thing.”  Igor raises one hand from below the table, and holds it outstretched to him.  In his gloved palm is an orb of soft golden light, the same glowing orb in which Yosuke had seen Souji’s last moments.  He gestures with his hand, and the orb floats toward Yosuke, who grasps it in both his palms.  “This is the Orb of Sight,” Igor explains.  “It dispels illusions and reveals truth – a power that has been crafted by the strength of your bonds with others.  It is yours to use as you see fit.  May it help you in your coming trials.”

“Thanks,” says Yosuke, as he gets to his feet and tucks the orb into his pocket for safekeeping.  “For everything, I guess. I didn’t always trust you, but… I couldn’t have come this far without your contract.”

“The pleasure was mine.”  Igor bows his head respectfully.  “And please be careful. I would rather not lose more than one such remarkable guest, if it can be avoided.”

Yosuke hurries from the Velvet Room as quickly as he can.

Margaret’s invitation had specified “Heaven’s End” as the designated meeting spot; it didn’t take a genius to figure out where that might be.  Yosuke leads the others through the dreamy cloudscape of Nanako’s subconscious, certain of what they’ll find when they reach its summit, though not certain he’s prepared to face it.

The cacophony of battle reaches their ears before they can see what’s happening ahead.  They rush up the wide stone stairs toward the platform at the top, and Yosuke’s heart pounds wildly as flashes of light from spells become visible against the darkened sky, as a strange wind picks up and the air begins to crackle with immense pressure and energy.  When they reach the top, they see them: Sebastian and Margaret, already locked in desperate combat, and Yosuke curses under his breath.  They’re too late.

With Sebastian’s back turned to them, Margaret sees their arrival first.  “We have company,” she announces, and when Sebastian glances over his shoulder and spots Yosuke, his eyes widen with terror and he freezes for just a second, a distraction Margaret takes advantage of easily.  Sebastian has to immediately go on the defensive to avoid being hit with her next blast of devastating magic.

“Get out of here!” he calls out to them without looking back.  He waves his arm through the air, and Yosuke notices the Compendium lying open on the battlefield between the two attendants, its pages turning rapidly without either of them touching it.  He thinks it’s the wind causing this at first, until it stops suddenly on a particular page and starts emitting a blinding white glow.  With a flash of light and a deafening roar, a huge golden dragon appears over Sebastian’s head and lunges at Margaret, who dodges the attack effortlessly.

“That’s him…” Chie breathes next to him, hands raised to cover her mouth.  “Oh my god, it’s Souji-kun…!”

“We have to help him!” shouts Yukiko, struggling to be heard over the din of battle, and Yosuke’s about to give her the go ahead to do exactly that when Sebastian interrupts.

“Stay back!” he orders, punctuating his command with a wide sweep of his arm.  “This doesn’t concern you!”

“Like hell it doesn’t!” Kanji shouts back, pounding his fist into his open palm.  “We’re with you all the way, Senpai!”

“You’re no match for her!” Sebastian yells.  “Run!”

In the second he takes to warn them, Margaret gains control of the Compendium.  She makes a delicate gesture with one hand, and the pages start to turn again; when they stop, a Persona appears above her, an elegant figure with flowing blond hair and draped in white cloth, resembling an angel.  As she raises her hand to command it, a sound like a gunshot rings out and Margaret recoils – and it takes Yosuke a second to realize that a gunshot is exactly what it had been, as he sees Naoto standing nearby with her revolver drawn and smoking. 

“Please step away from him,” she commands calmly.

“Wait!” Sebastian pleads, one hand extended toward Margaret and the other toward their group. “Sister – please, give us a moment.”

Margaret nods silently, cradling her wounded hand to her chest, and the angelic Persona above her disappears.

Sebastian hurries toward them.  Yosuke is about to step forward to meet him, but the others rush past him all at once, pushing him bodily out of the way, and before he knows what’s happening he finds himself at the back of the group.

“Senpai…” says Naoto breathlessly.

“It’s really you,” Rise chokes, her eyes filling with tears.  “I can’t believe it…!”

Yosuke is suddenly reminded by the outpouring of emotion happening all around him that he’s the only one who’s actually seen Souji before now.  Rise’s openly crying, and Kanji looks like he might be a second away from doing the same; Chie and Yukiko both look pale and shell-shocked, like if they speak this might all fade away like a dream; even Naoto’s stone-faced expression masks something uncertain. All of them are circling around Sebastian and buzzing with expectation, but not sure what to do or say.

“Um…” Sebastian begins. And before anyone can stop him, Teddie launches himself forward and throws his arms around Sebastian’s waist in a huge, engulfing hug.

“S-Sensei!” Teddie sobs happily into his uniform jacket.  “Sensei, you’re back! Sensei!”

Yosuke’s stomach plummets.  Sebastian looks alarmed, and the group shares an uneasy glance. 

“Teddie…” Naoto says quietly, before Yosuke can bring himself to speak.  “That isn’t--”

“It’s all right,” Sebastian assures her quickly, and he makes sure to fix a smile on his face as Teddie pulls out of his arms.  “I’m sorry. This isn’t how I meant things to be.”

“…I know,” says Teddie, unusually solemn.  “You don’t remember us, right?”

Sebastian shakes his head sadly.

“That’s okay.  For a long time I didn’t remember where I came from either.” And then the bright smile returns to Teddie’s face.  “It doesn’t change how we feel about you! You’re still our friend, okay?!”

“Thank you,” says Sebastian with a wide smile.  “I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

Yosuke hangs back for a moment to give the others time to get over their shock and have a good look at their lost friend.  It feels strangely nostalgic – watching Souji surrounded by people who love him, and Yosuke can’t help but smile a little at the sight.  Before long, however, Sebastian turns to him specifically, and the time for happy reunions is over.

“Yosuke,” he says, “you need to get them out of here.  Margaret is far too powerful for you to get involved with.  You can’t win.”

Yosuke shakes his head.  “No way.  We came here to tell you that. Igor sent me to make sure you got away safely.”

“Igor?” Sebastian echoes, sounding surprised.

“Yeah.  He seemed to think you’d have some trouble with Margaret. Do you actually think you can beat her?”

“I don’t know. I’m managing to hold her off, but she’s so strong… She forced me to drop the Compendium and now I can’t get near it anymore.” Sebastian glances back toward the book, laying open and waiting for the battle to resume.   “That’s what she’s here for.” 

“Why?”

“For its power, I assume – she wouldn’t say anything else.  Regardless of why she wants it, I’m its rightful custodian; she has to prove her worth to take it back from me.” 

“Then let us help you,” says Yukiko firmly.  “We’ll be more than enough to provide a distraction for her while you –“

“No!  Listen to me: she’s letting you go.  If you get involved, she’ll have to go after you; but if you leave right now and don’t look back, she’ll let you go. Please,” Sebastian begs, and this time he looks at Yosuke.  “Please let me protect you.”

Yosuke grits his teeth and breathes deep, mentally preparing himself for what he knows he has to do.  “All right,” he says quietly.  “Go get her.”

Sebastian nods.  He looks as though he’s going to say something else, but apparently thinks better of it, and turns and walks back toward Margaret, prepared to resume battle.

“Go,” Yosuke orders everyone.  “Everyone, back down the stairs.  Go!”

“What? What about Senpai?!” Rise cries, as he quickly ushers them toward the staircase.

“Are you crazy?!” Chie shouts, struggling against him with all her considerable strength.  Behind them, the crackle of energy that signalled a renewed attack from someone could be felt in the air like static electricity.  “We are not leaving him here!”

“I know,” says Yosuke.

“Senpai, that book--!” Naoto starts.

“I know,” says Yosuke, and after he’s shuffled them to relative safety, down onto the steps that offer some cover from what’s to come, he turns on his heel and runs back toward the battle as fast as he can go.

“Yosuke!” Teddie cries.  “What are you doing?!”

Yosuke dashes toward the gap left between Sebastian and Margaret as they face off against each other, and dives toward the open Compendium. He hits the ground hard on his shoulder and rolls as Margaret’s next attack sails over his head toward Sebastian, but in the process he manages to grab the book, slam it shut, and gather it up in his arms.  The Compendium pulses with energy as he holds it seized against his chest, an immense, leather-bound heartbeat pounding warmly and frantically with his own, but it stays closed; neither of them seem to be able to use it while it’s in his hands.

But before he can get back to his feet to hand the Compendium and a victory off to Sebastian, the terrifying angel Margaret had already summoned bears down on him.  Yosuke looks upward into ominous storm clouds that part into endless, dazzling light – and as the heavens open above and the spell descends on him, he shuts his eyes tight and screams.

For a handful of terrifying seconds, there’s nothing but piercing light, noise, heat, and pressure – pressure that throws him down onto his chest, pressure strong enough to crack the foundation of stone that forms the battlefield – but no pain.  When the light finally fades, he blinks furiously, unable to clear the spots from his vision for several long seconds.  It’s eerily silent as the dust settles, nothing audible but a distant ringing in his ears at first; but soon Yosuke hears the others calling out his name somewhere behind him, and a weak groan from above.  He struggles to sit up, increasingly alarmed to realize the pressure still on his back is someone’s weight, and when he manages to crawl out from under it, he sees exactly what he’d feared – 

Sebastian, sprawled bloody and limp on the ruined platform.

“Sebastian…” The Compendium slips from Yosuke’s suddenly numb, slackened fingers, and lands with a heavy, lifeless thud on the ground.  He shakes him by the shoulders, and gets no response.  No.  No, no, no, not again, this can’t be happening again – “Hey, Sebastian…!”

Where’s Souji? Yosuke asks his parents, and for some reason when they exchange worried glances at the edge of his hospital bed it still doesn’t occur to him that he has any reason to be concerned.  Is he okay? Can I talk to him? I need to—

Sebastian suddenly heaves for breath, bursting back to life and making Yosuke jump out of his skin.  “Oh, thank god,” Yosuke gasps in relief, doubling over and burying his face into the ruined lapel of Sebastian’s uniform.  “H-hang on, I’ll…” 

But before he can even finish, Amaterasu appears above them and spreads her wings, bathing Sebastian in soothing, healing light and closing his wounds.  Yosuke looks up to see Yukiko and the others gathered nearby.

“It seems I’ve won,” says Margaret, her voice ringing calm and cool in the dreadful silence.  She holds out one hand, palm up, and demands, “Please return the Compendium to me.”

“No way!” Chie growls as she rushes forward, and the others join her in an instant -- an impenetrable wall built to stand between Sebastian, Yosuke, and the Compendium on one side, and Margaret on the other.  “You’ll have to go through us, first!”

“Don’t let her have the Compendium…” Sebastian rasps as he struggles to sit up.  Yosuke hurriedly puts an arm around his shoulders to steady him, a gesture he accepts without complaint.  “She can’t be allowed to take it…”

Margaret exhales a long-suffering sigh.  “Sebastian, please don’t be stubborn. Is it truly so important to you that you remain the attendant?”

“Yes!” he shouts, his voice strained and desperate, hands clenching tightly into shaking fists in the front of Yosuke’s jacket. “Sister, please… there’s no other place for me now.  This is all I can do!  I have to watch over them!  Please, I… I lost everything… I have to do this…!”

“The attendant…?” Yosuke echoes.  “You’re fighting over who gets to stay in the Velvet Room? That’s what this is about?!”

“I’m sorry…” says Sebastian weakly.  “I couldn’t let her replace me, I can’t—“

“Sebastian,” says Margaret.  “Do you know why you replaced me? Why I left the Velvet Room?”

Sebastian hesitates, and then shakes his head.

“It was because of the person I replaced – our sister, Elizabeth.” Margaret takes several slow steps toward them, her heels clicking on the stone platform.  “Somewhere far from here, a young man’s soul sleeps and guards a doorway. A noble, selfless act that has caused a great deal of pain for a great number of people – including our sister, Elizabeth, who now searches tirelessly for a way to free him from his fate.  She, too, committed a selfless act in her pursuit of this young man, unaware of the pain she would leave behind her when she left.”  When she reaches the barrier formed by Chie and the others, her expression suddenly turns sorrowful, full of understanding and empathy as she gazes down at him.  “Souji Seta… do you not think it’s time to relieve the pain of those you’ve left behind?”

Sebastian shakes his head, but it’s a weak gesture; the pain written all over his face gives away his true feelings.  “I didn’t…” he begins, but thinks better of it.  He glances up at Chie, Yukiko, and Rise, watching him expectantly; toward Naoto, Kanji, and Teddie, waiting anxiously to hear what response Margaret’s words will evoke; toward Yosuke, carrying the weight of all their sorrow and sleepless nights on his aching shoulders.

“I didn’t…” he croaks, and finally he sags against Yosuke’s chest, a hand quickly rising to cover the tears sliding down his face.  “I didn’t mean to…!”

Yosuke grimaces and wraps his arms protectively around his trembling shoulders as he falls apart.  With the imminent threat obviously defused, Margaret eases her way between Chie and Kanji, who move aside and allow her to pass.  When she kneels down so she’s at eye level with Sebastian, she smiles tenderly and places a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he looks at her with watery, red-rimmed eyes.

“Since I won our duel,” she says, “I am clearly the stronger of us, and the Compendium will return to my hands.  I will reassume my position as the Velvet Room attendant.”

“I can’t…” Sebastian hiccups. “I can’t let you—“

“Sebastian,” she warns with a grim smile, and pinches his cheek none too gently.  “A little brother who doesn’t listen to his older sister isn’t very cute.”

The shock at this treatment is visible on Sebastian’s face for only a moment before he turns it away from her, his cheeks stained pink.

Margaret rises again, and after allowing Sebastian a moment to regain his dignity, she reaches down and takes his hand, and helps him to his feet.  “Come,” she says gently.  “We have much to discuss with our master. And all of you,” she adds, turning to Yosuke and the others, “have a formidable opponent you’ve yet to face.”

“You’re taking him back?” Rise asks. “But we need him!”

“We were hoping he could help us with this fight,” says Yosuke.  “Is there any chance he can?”

Margaret shakes her head.  “There are many ways he can help,” she says, “but right now his fight is not at your side.  This is your destiny, and the choices you must make must be yours alone, or they are meaningless.”

“I’m sorry,” says Sebastian solemnly, taking a deep breath and busying himself with trying to adjust his singed and torn uniform to regain his composure.  He turns to Margaret.  “If I may… I’d like to say my farewells to them in private.”

“Of course. It was a pleasure meeting you. Please hurry back, Sebastian.”

Margaret bows politely, and then vanishes, the Compendium safely in her hands.

“I wish you didn’t have to see that,” Sebastian murmurs.

“It’s okay, Sensei,” Teddie assures him. “Everyone has a side of themselves they don’t want others to see, right?”

“Oh? I suppose you’re right…”

“What will happen to you now that you’re not the attendant?” Chie asks quietly.  “Are you really going to be okay on your own?”

“I still have responsibilities,” he replies.  “Even when Margaret was not the attendant, she did not cease to be a part of the Velvet Room, and I imagine the same will be true for me.  And I will not be on my own.”  Sebastian smiles a little.  “It seems my sister cares for me a great deal.”

“…I’m glad,” says Chie with a smile that’s more genuine than any Yosuke has seen on her face in a long time.  “We just wanted to know you’re okay.”

“I will be fine.  I promise.”  Sebastian bows his head to her politely, then turns to Yosuke, and says bluntly, “That was stupid of you.”

Yosuke winces.  “S-sorry… I totally blew your chance at staying as the attendant, didn’t I? I wasn’t thinking…”

Sebastian shakes his head.  “Margaret would have overpowered me eventually.  It was a foregone conclusion.  And honestly… seeing all of your willingness to come so far together has made me feel more at ease with allowing her to take over.”  He frowns, and adds, “Perhaps I wasn’t being honest with myself.  Perhaps I always knew you didn’t need me to watch over you at all, and I was simply afraid of leaving the Velvet Room...  Whatever the reason, you showed me a world of possibility beyond my own comfortable existence, and for that, I owe you my thanks.”

“Yeah…” says Yosuke, slightly uncomfortable with receiving that kind of praise and attention.  “Y-you too.  The things you managed to do… I think I would have given up at the start if you hadn’t kept showing me there were reasons to keep going.  I owe you.”

He extends his hand toward Sebastian, and after a puzzled look tells Yosuke he doesn’t know what to do with it, he takes Sebastian’s hand in his and shakes it firmly.

Yosuke inhales sharply as a strange sensation overwhelms him, like something’s slipping away from his grasp – and suddenly Jiraiya appears above him, engulfed in bright light and changing form before his eyes.  “Susano-O…” says Yosuke, speaking aloud the name he instinctively knows belongs to his transfigured Persona.  He laughs.  “The power to protect what’s dear to me, huh? Just what I wanted.”

“I’m proud of you,” says Sebastian with a smile, “partner.”

Yosuke’s face falls.  “What did you just…?”

There’s a fond look on Sebastian’s face that’s fading even as Yosuke speaks, a brief moment of connection and clarity to that past life already dwindling.  Before Yosuke can think of what to say, the flash of Souji has been swallowed whole by Sebastian again, and then there’s no time to talk.  The others crowd around them in a celebratory ring, and Teddie crushes them together in a group hug that Yosuke briefly protests.  Soon everyone’s linked together, arms around shoulders and waists as they huddle together, all laughter and quiet sniffling and sincere words of relief.  Sebastian looks overwhelmed by the attention for a moment, but relaxes, closes his eyes, and smiles.

Yosuke doesn’t take his eyes off him for a second – searching for some trace of a friend lost, but seeing also the one that’s still here.

“Please stand up.”

In the end the goddess is too much for them even before Yosuke uses the Orb of Sight to reveal her true form.  Afterward, when the light from orb fades and the stench of dead and rotting flesh threatens to overwhelm them, Yosuke thinks it was kinder of them to have left Sebastian in the Velvet Room after all. 

“You have to go on.”

Sebastian is standing above him now, his image faded in the thick white fog, but his voice is as clear and strong as ever.  Yosuke can’t raise his head – it’s too heavy, and he’s so tired – but he’s content to lay there for now and listen.

Shadow arms emerge around him where he’s rooted to the spot, either by fear or by some effect of Izanami’s spell, and latch onto his limbs.  He sees the others rushing toward him as he struggles to escape, but they’re too far away – he’s already sinking, pulled and pushed all at once down into the void below him, too terrified to even scream.

“We came this far together,” says Sebastian.  “You showed me the strength of bonds can reach beyond lifetimes.  Rely on that strength now, and listen to them.  Stand up, just one more time.”

He doesn’t have the strength to do anything but listen, so he does; he listens, and he hears the voices of his friends, of Teddie asking him not to give up hope, of Kanji encouraging him to lead, of Chie swearing to support him, of Rise telling him to choose, of Naoto promising they’ll turn this around, of Nanako reminding him of balance, of Yukiko’s insistence on his inner strength. 

And when their voices have faded once more into the fog, Sebastian reappears.

“From the beginning, my goal has only ever been to make yours possible,” he says.  “Stand up, and allow me to help you one more time.”

Miraculously, Yosuke finds he has the strength to slowly get to his feet.  When he does, Sebastian has faded; but in his heart, he feels the presence of the bonds he’s created with all of his friends, and he feels those bonds creating something new inside of him – a powerful Persona that both encompasses and eclipses all of the ones he’s ever created, and he knows that Sebastian is as much a part of that as any of the others.

All right, Yosuke thinks to himself, filled with renewed determination.  One more time.

The world inside the TV – the world inside all of their hearts, free from the influence of the fog – is far more beautiful than any of them could have guessed, and they take their time exploring the hillside and the forest and the lakeshore, not quite ready yet to ask Teddie to take them home.  They’ve fought too hard and lost too much to put this all behind them just yet, and victory as hard-won as theirs deserves its own amount of reflection and respect.

“He helped us do this,” says Chie softly, as she looks out across the sparkling lake.  “Didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” says Yosuke.  “He did.”

March 21, 2012

He doesn’t remember how he got here, but he recognizes where he is instantly; the limousine from the glowing orb Igor had shown him, the one that had contained images of Souji’s last moments.  It looks different from what he’s used to, but this is definitely the Velvet Room.  

“I’m glad you’re here,” a familiar voice says to his left.  “I was starting to get lonely.”

Yosuke turns and stares.  Sebastian is sitting next to him – but he’s quickly dismayed to realize he’s taken the form of Souji once more.  “You don’t need to do that,” he says quietly.  “You’re you.  You’re fine the way you are, remember?”

Sebastian doesn’t say anything for a long moment – he just smiles, a smile that’s so painfully familiar that it shakes Yosuke to his core as he looks at him.  It’s an expression he’s seen countless times before, a small and private thing that contained affection so strong Yosuke tried not to think about it, and…

“Holy shit,” he breathes, hardly daring to believe what he’s seeing.  “Souji…? How…?!”

Souji holds up a tiny sphere of soft golden light in his hand. “An orb that reveals truth and dispels illusions,” he explains.  And then he adds, somewhat sheepishly, “I borrowed it while you were asleep. I hope you don’t mind.”

Yosuke surges forward before he can stop himself.  He throws his arms around Souji’s neck and seizes him, and buries his face in the collar of his jacket.  Souji hugs him back, with less energy, but just as much warmth and affection.

“I knew you could do it,” says Souji fondly, and though Yosuke tries to respond, his voice comes out in a creaking sob instead. “Hey… why are you crying, dumbass? You did it. You solved the case and you saved me.”

“I m-miss you…” Yosuke’s voice hitches as he sobs harder and harder into Souji’s shirt.  “S-so much…”

Souji holds him tighter. “I know,” he says quietly, resting his head against Yosuke’s.  “I’m really sorry.”

They sit like that for what feels like forever, until Yosuke’s sobbing subsides enough for him to dare show his face.  He pulls out of Souji’s arms slowly, deeply ashamed and furiously wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

“Sorry,” he says, choking on a laugh.  “Feels like I’ve been holding that in for a while.”

“It’s okay,” Souji assures him wryly. God, Yosuke thinks, he looks so happy like this, or maybe it’s just that he’d grown so used to Sebastian’s stoicism that the contrast is so noticeable. Whatever it is, not even in Yosuke’s memories did Souji ever look this happy, and the thought causes a warm sense of contentment and joy to burst to life in his chest.  He did it.  He really did it.  “I know it’s been hard on you. On all of you. Thank you for coming to get me.”

“You weren’t making it easy, jerk…”

“No,” Souji laughs.  “I guess not.”

And then they lapse into silence; a comfortable silence, at first, as Yosuke grips Souji’s hands in his as hard as he can so he can feel how real this is -- and then a silence that becomes tinged with anxiety as Yosuke begins to realize something’s not right.   “Am I… here for a reason?” he asks slowly.  “This is your Velvet Room, isn’t it? What’s going on?”

There’s an unmistakable glint of pride in Souji’s eyes as his smile widens, and the expression eases Yosuke’s fears a little. “Smart,” he praises, and then he explains. “You’re right; it’s my Velvet Room. I called you here because I have a favor to ask.”

He indicates with a nod of his head the table draped in cloth, the same one that stands in the train compartment that served as Yosuke’s Velvet Room, and Yosuke follows his gaze.  There are tarot cards spread on the table, and when Yosuke looks closer, he sees the images of several Personas on each of them.

“I said I was done requesting Personas from you,” says Souji, “but I thought of one more.  I can still perform fusion, and you still have the Wild Card – so can you help me put it together?”

“Yeah, dude. Of course.”

It’s a simple fusion, and when it’s done, they lean back against the limousine seat and examine the resulting card together.

“Mada,” Souji tells him. “The Magician.  It indicates the power and ability to achieve what you want, and provides you with everything you need to achieve it.” 

The glowing card disappears, and Yosuke glances at him.  When he was Sebastian, this is the time when that fleeting glimpse of Souji would appear in his features and then fade just as quickly – but this time, there’s no shift in personality, no lapse back from hope into stark reality.  He leans his head down on Yosuke’s shoulder, and remains Souji, and Yosuke doesn’t even think of moving. 

“I’m so glad I met you,” Souji says quietly.

“Yeah.” Yosuke reaches over and tentatively covers Souji’s hand with his own – displaying a hesitation that’s completely eliminated when Souji grasps his fingers tightly in return.  “Yeah, me too...”

They sit together like that for a long time, stroking thumbs over knuckles and saying absolutely nothing, content to just be together after enduring so much apart. But it isn’t long before Yosuke notices Souji’s silence, and the way his fingers stop moving after a time. “Souji…?”

“Sorry…” Souji mumbles against his shoulder.  “I had a long talk with Igor and Margaret, and now I’m really tired.”

“Yeah...? What about?”

“Hmm… Not sure…” he says, the words almost entirely swallowed by a yawn.  “I can’t really remember…”

“Here...” Yosuke shifts further to one side of the seat so Souji can lay down, which he does, resting his head and shoulders comfortably across his lap.  There’s enough room that Souji can stretch his legs out almost all the way across the seat, and he lets out a slow, exhausted sigh as he relaxes, his eyes sliding closed. “Souji…”

“...Hmm?” Souji mumbles again, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks.

Yosuke grips his hand; it’s alarmingly cold all of a sudden.  “Don’t... don’t fall asleep, okay?”

Souji turns his face inward, cradled into the crook of Yosuke’s arm.  “I won’t...”

“Souji…”

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs softly.  “I won’t make you watch again.”

The room ripples around him, and he feels that familiar sensation of nearly slipping out of the Velvet Room back into consciousness.  Yosuke’s heart leaps into his throat as he grips Souji’s hand tighter. “No! No, wait…”

With great effort, Souji tilts his head up to look at him, his eyes cracked open the barest amount.

“I wasn’t there with you last time,” Yosuke says in a rush.  “Please… please let me stay.”

Souji smiles faintly, closes his eyes, and turns his head toward Yosuke’s chest.

Yosuke keeps holding his hand, even after Souji’s fingers slacken in his grip and the rise and fall of his chest has stilled entirely.  His cheeks are wet when he bows his head and touches his forehead to Souji’s, but it’s not the violent sort of crying he’d done earlier; both now and back then, Souji last moments had been filled with strength and conviction, with a calm assurance that everything would be all right, and Yosuke feels as compelled now to live up to that expectation as he ever did.

He wakes slowly in the gentle light of dawn from a dream he can’t remember, sunlight filtering through his curtain and warming his face, and though his eyes and his body are still heavy and tired, his heart is strangely at peace.