Shinjiro Aragaki (荒垣 真次郎) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
themortalhalf) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
destinystrings2012-09-29 01:56 pm
themortalhalf) wrote in destinystrings2012-09-29 01:56 pm
[Closed] Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
Who: Shinjiro Aragaki (themortalhalf) and Miki Sanada (helenchanted) and Akihiko Sanada (risetocaesar).
Minor appearances by Minako Arisato (greatseal) and Minato Arisato (fools_journey)
Where: Shinjiro's Apartment (Libra 7-06)
Summary: The orphan trio has a lot of catching up to do. Continued from here.
Warnings: Some possible language on Shinjiro's part. Teal deer. IDK.
Shinjiro pours the green tea he's made into two ceramic cups, leaving them onto the counter near the side of the sink absentmindedly, giving the tea a few minutes to cool while he waits for Miki to get back from changing out of her festival clothes. Perhaps she hadn't needed to, but what they had needed was a few minutes to breathe, and he was more than willing to give her as much space and time as she needed before coming down to his apartment again. They both needed a few moments to themselves before diving into things. Most of which he wasn't looking forward to telling her. Not when she had looked so upset and confused as it was—though she seemed to possess the Sanada habit to recover fairly quickly, all things considered. Meanwhile, he's still trying to digest some of the things Minako had told him.
He wonders then if he should make something quick and more substantial to go along with the tea, though decides against it seconds later. Food would only be an unwanted distraction that would probably be left mostly untouched. And... hell, he doesn't even know what food Miki likes now. That alone makes him suddenly and painfully aware of the divide that's between them. She seemingly knows him, but... he doesn't know her. Just the shadow of her that rests in the dust-filled hallways of a part of his life that's come and gone.
She was clearly different now, exuding the type of confidence he never expected out of the little girl that was, in his mind, little but a fragment of memory a decade decayed. He suddenly feels inadequate. He isn't her Shinjiro, after all. He'll never remember her like she might be expecting him to. He doesn't know how to fix this kind of thing. How to start over. Continue from where they left off. It had been ten long years for him. Who knows how long for her. This place was a pain in the ass, even though no words can quite express how happy he is to know that she's been able to make a life for herself somewhere, and that he and Aki had maybe been able to be a part of it—for a little while, at least. And it's comforting, in a way, that he has the chance to see what kind of person she could have been, as much as it pains him to see the potential that was cut short in his own.
He finally sits in one of the kitchen chairs, leaning his elbows on the table, watching the door. He no longer feels the sting from the scrape on his face from where the geta had hit him, though he can still feel the rough redness that's making his eyes feel dry and irritated, though he had managed to dam everything back as they had made their way back to the apartments. Shinjiro hadn't trusted himself to talk for more than a few words at a time, and his mind was busy enough trying to figure out what to do. How to tell her the things she needed and deserved to know, and how to ask the questions of her that needed to be answered. He had to be so damn sure about everything this time, about who she was (though he didn't doubt it), about what had happened in her timeline and where they stood at this point, that it would kill him to find out that he was wrong.
He couldn't bring Aki into this until then. He could do that much for him at least—and her. He didn't know what kind of timeline Miki had been taken from, but she couldn't have any idea how her brother had lived on his side. How he probably couldn't pass a single toy store without thinking of her. There's a reason they rarely brought her up.
He picks up his COMP then, absentmindedly at first, before he fires a text message Minato's way.
Make sure you get the right tank with a filter.
10 gallons if she's bringing home one. Bigger if she wants more.
Though maybe they had already found something at this point. He doesn't know. But the text would do its job. It says "look after your sister" just as much as it says "we're fine, so stop worrying." As "fine" as things can be, anyway. And Minako will know about it if she's around. Might keep the eventual interrogation at bay for a little while longer.
And now he all he can do is wait. For the tea to cool and Miki to come back and his emotions to settle.
themortalhalf) and Miki Sanada (helenchanted) and Akihiko Sanada (risetocaesar). Minor appearances by Minako Arisato (
greatseal) and Minato Arisato (fools_journey)Where: Shinjiro's Apartment (Libra 7-06)
Summary: The orphan trio has a lot of catching up to do. Continued from here.
Warnings: Some possible language on Shinjiro's part. Teal deer. IDK.
Shinjiro pours the green tea he's made into two ceramic cups, leaving them onto the counter near the side of the sink absentmindedly, giving the tea a few minutes to cool while he waits for Miki to get back from changing out of her festival clothes. Perhaps she hadn't needed to, but what they had needed was a few minutes to breathe, and he was more than willing to give her as much space and time as she needed before coming down to his apartment again. They both needed a few moments to themselves before diving into things. Most of which he wasn't looking forward to telling her. Not when she had looked so upset and confused as it was—though she seemed to possess the Sanada habit to recover fairly quickly, all things considered. Meanwhile, he's still trying to digest some of the things Minako had told him.
He wonders then if he should make something quick and more substantial to go along with the tea, though decides against it seconds later. Food would only be an unwanted distraction that would probably be left mostly untouched. And... hell, he doesn't even know what food Miki likes now. That alone makes him suddenly and painfully aware of the divide that's between them. She seemingly knows him, but... he doesn't know her. Just the shadow of her that rests in the dust-filled hallways of a part of his life that's come and gone.
She was clearly different now, exuding the type of confidence he never expected out of the little girl that was, in his mind, little but a fragment of memory a decade decayed. He suddenly feels inadequate. He isn't her Shinjiro, after all. He'll never remember her like she might be expecting him to. He doesn't know how to fix this kind of thing. How to start over. Continue from where they left off. It had been ten long years for him. Who knows how long for her. This place was a pain in the ass, even though no words can quite express how happy he is to know that she's been able to make a life for herself somewhere, and that he and Aki had maybe been able to be a part of it—for a little while, at least. And it's comforting, in a way, that he has the chance to see what kind of person she could have been, as much as it pains him to see the potential that was cut short in his own.
He finally sits in one of the kitchen chairs, leaning his elbows on the table, watching the door. He no longer feels the sting from the scrape on his face from where the geta had hit him, though he can still feel the rough redness that's making his eyes feel dry and irritated, though he had managed to dam everything back as they had made their way back to the apartments. Shinjiro hadn't trusted himself to talk for more than a few words at a time, and his mind was busy enough trying to figure out what to do. How to tell her the things she needed and deserved to know, and how to ask the questions of her that needed to be answered. He had to be so damn sure about everything this time, about who she was (though he didn't doubt it), about what had happened in her timeline and where they stood at this point, that it would kill him to find out that he was wrong.
He couldn't bring Aki into this until then. He could do that much for him at least—and her. He didn't know what kind of timeline Miki had been taken from, but she couldn't have any idea how her brother had lived on his side. How he probably couldn't pass a single toy store without thinking of her. There's a reason they rarely brought her up.
He picks up his COMP then, absentmindedly at first, before he fires a text message Minato's way.
Make sure you get the right tank with a filter.
10 gallons if she's bringing home one. Bigger if she wants more.
Though maybe they had already found something at this point. He doesn't know. But the text would do its job. It says "look after your sister" just as much as it says "we're fine, so stop worrying." As "fine" as things can be, anyway. And Minako will know about it if she's around. Might keep the eventual interrogation at bay for a little while longer.
And now he all he can do is wait. For the tea to cool and Miki to come back and his emotions to settle.
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"What?" he says, his voice strained, wheezing as he tries to talk through it. "No I'm n—"
And then his body decides to kick it up a notch in response to the sudden stress, sending him into one of his more typical coughing fits. His body probably thinks it's doing him a favor, trying to tear apart his lungs in a savage effort to get rid of them so that Shinjiro doesn't have to deal with things anymore. He's not her brother, even if only by name. He's not. He's not. He's not. He can't be. Aki is, goddamnit. He's her stupid, honest, kind, brave, reckless sibling she needed to have. Shinjiro can see him in the patchwork of what Miki's genes have made her. He's not her brother, and she doesn't need another one who can't do anything for her. Aki has always been enough. It's all Aki ever wanted to be, and he needs that chance.
Shinjiro sees nothing of him in her.
God fucking damn it he can't breathe.
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"H-hey! Raise your arms in the air, that will help you breath easier!"
She's trying to help. Really. She knows from experience slapping on anyone's back in a situation like this is a bad idea.
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He's not her brother. Why the hell would she even want to call him that? God damnit.
"Aki's your—" he pauses again, breathes. That's probably a bad place to start. "Shit." How the hell is he even supposed to explain. "I know how this is gonna sound, but I need you to listen. Then you can think what you want. You remember the fire?"
Or perhaps her world didn't have one. But he'll know that soon enough.
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They rarely talked about the fire. The experience had left her utterly shattered for a few months, and despite being able to move on for the sake of her brother...there were still nightmares from time to time. Sometimes it was the both of them dying. Sometimes Shinji tried to help and died too. Sometimes they all got out before both her brothers suddenly burst into flames and she couldn't do anything...
They'd become rarer with each passing year, but they'd sneak up on her, leaving Miki breathless and covered in sweat. She gives him a slow nod, looking down at her cup of tea instead of him.
"How could I ever forget?...That's when he..."
That's when Akihiko died.
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He had never liked to talk about the fire either. Aki brought it up far more than he did. Even then, it wasn't often, though he knew they both thought about it more than the either of them would care to admit, given that they were both walking hypocrites. Aki always had a hard time letting go of the fact that he hadn't been able to do anything, because hadn't been strong enough, or fast enough.
And it's just as hard now, seeing her here, all alive and grown up in front of him, because it gives Shinjiro a glimpse at the life that she could have lived had she gotten the chance to.
Every now and then Shinjiro imagines how terrified she must have been inside the orphanag that day (just as he's sure Aki does), alone, surrounded by yards of unforgiving flame and burning smoke, trapped with nowhere to go, probably believing all that time that someone was going to break down that door and rescue her. And why wouldn't she? Little kids believed in people, and didn't live each day thinking that they might die. Miki had certainly believed in the two of them, put her hope and trust in two kids who never came to her rescue in the end. They had just left her alone to die, even though they hadn't wanted to. Even if there was no blame to place, it still hurt. And even now, he hopes she didn't have to be scared for very long.
He's not sure how much he believes in God. There's an odd dichotomy between what he believes and what he doesn't, and what he inwardly wants to believe, because believing in those things makes the world easier to live in. But he hopes that if there is a God, that He had the goddamn mercy to take her away before the fire could so much as touch her. It was the least an omnipotent god could do for an innocent little girl who hadn't done a single thing wrong.
But if this Miki survived, something about what happened that day had to have changed, and hearing Miki trail off like that makes him come to a pretty simple conclusion. It's an easy conclusion to imagine—it's not hard at all for him to envision it. He had been right beside Aki that night. If Aki hadn't been so young, no one in entire damn world would have been able to stop Aki from running into the orphanage. Not even him. Perhaps Shinjiro's wrong, but after hearing the subtle difference in the Arisatos' circumstances (one survived while the other did not), it's easy to replace one person with another. Like death was the world's universal balancing tool. A life for a life.
So the idiot had gotten his chance. Though he hopes that everything else Miki may very well be implying is wrong. Because that idiot.
"So Aki died then?"
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She feels her nails digging into her flesh, knuckles turning white. There's something wrong as they go on. Her brother would know all of this, but before she can stop herself, she blurts it all out anyway.
"...I was in my room. I didn't know what to do, so I tried to crawl out...like they'd taught us. There was so much smoke that I could barely breathe. I-I tried to open the door to my room, but it was so hot I couldn't do it..." As she talks, her gaze is lost, as she looks beyond where Shinjiro is. In her mind, she's seeing the fire again. "Just as I was about to pass out, someone opened the door for me. The smoke was so thick I couldn't see anything, but I knew it was him. He grabbed and dragged me out. I'm not sure how I was able to follow him. I...I think he carried me for most of the way...but then..."
She shakes her head and her voice cracks.
"W-when we arrived at the door, the orphanage started to crumble from the fire. We had made it...only. Bro--" It's becoming much harder to talk and Miki swallows hard to force herself to continue. "Because he'd been carrying me, the effort had caused him to breathe in too much smoke. He had burns too...all I had were a few on my legs and back."
There was a reason why she wore the long socks and tended to stick to boots. Even her festival kimono was longer than the average one. Some of Miki's burns were still visible, and she didn't like looking at them. They only served as a reminder.
"I remember the firetruck and ambulance sirens. They took the both of us put us in different ambulances. I-I screamed for us to be in the same one but it wasn't possible. He was rushed to the hospital with one of the caretakers. They told me he'd be okay, but he...but he didn't make it..."
By this point she's a mess. She uses her sleeve in an attempt to dry her tears and sniffs loudly, attempting to look collected again, forcing her breathing to return to normal.
"S-sorry. I know I shouldn't..." She is stronger than this. "...I've always tried to help others like he did for me." She releases the pressure on her hands and she looks down at them again, thinking, falling into silence. Miki is rather bright for her age, despite her bouts of forgetfulness and being easily distracted. At this point it's not too hard to figure out anyway that whoever was standing before her wasn't her brother. The clues had been in front of her the entire time; the girl who looked like an older Minami, the fact he hadn't recognized her at the festival, the...Minato...who seemed friendly with the both of them....the fact Shinjiro was alive, standing before her...
It was too good to be true.
"You're not the Shinji I know, are you." It wasn't even a question. Just a statement.
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Well, that hurt more than he thought it would. Feels the statement burrow down deep into his skin, through muscle and bone, like nails into a coffin. No, he can't be hers. He's not lucky enough for that. Even though he almost had been her other brother, for all of a minute's time. As wrong as he knew it was... it felt nice for a few imagined seconds.
You see now? I'm not your brother.
He's just not qualified for the position. And he'd never want to take Aki's place. He can't. Fool's as dedicated as a dog. It's his title to keep and bear proudly.
"No." But if he could somehow switch places with him, he would. He looks away. "I'm sorry." And he is more than she could ever understand. Guilt for not being some other version of himself. That wasn't something he thought he'd ever get the chance to feel. "Things are different here. The people you see aren't necessarily the people you remember. Sometimes they're close enough there ain't much of a difference, sometimes they're not even the same, sometimes they're who you're looking for."
Like Minako was to him. He is lucky in that. Everyone else so far had been on Minato's side of the coin, though the difference was so minimal otherwise—except for Minako's absence and a few... other things. It bothers him a little sometimes, knowing the Aki in his memories is not the exact same one that he's talked with here. But he's resolved to not let it make a difference, and to be frank, it's not difficult. The difference is minute. A few months' time surrounded by events that had followed more or less the same path under the helm of a different leader. And Aki is Aki, really. This seems to be proving true no matter what timeline the idiot's lived in.
The Aki in Miki's memories, for instance—the one that died, that's the Aki he knows to the very bones. The kid he used to do everything with. It bothers him to know that Aki is dead in her world—the idiot was supposed to live forever and shit—but he accepts it. He got to die how he wanted. And he had saved her. Aki wouldn't have regretted that for a single moment. Dying that way wouldn't have bothered him at all. Did you see that, Shinji? he's probably saying somewhere, looking all smug and accomplished and crap. I did it.
Dumbass.
"In our world, you died in the fire. We couldn't—" he shakes his head. Looks anywhere but at her. Feels his voice abruptly plummet and starts to sound rough and choppy and a little bit broken and his eyes are stinging again "—we couldn't get you out. They stopped Aki from going after you." And all he could do is stand there, torn between two people. Though if Aki had made it, maybe he would have stood a chance. He'll have to try harder next time. "Never quite forgave himself for that—always had trouble." He finally drags his gaze back, his suddenly stormy grey eyes meeting hers. "He'll... be happy to see you."
It's been a long time.
For all of them.
In one way or another.
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She doesn't know what to say. Miki is, for one of the rare times in her life, completely left speechless.
As he talks, she feels the trembling sensation return to her hands, her training evaporating into thin air. It has already plagued her while she had been changing her clothes, and Miki's heart starts to beat loudly again. The roller coaster of emotions is starting to be too much for her to bare and she wants to scream, ask for a time out, or just wonder why the hell is this place able to cause all of this. As she attempts to pitifully say something, anything to such a statement, the chair she was sitting on tumbles backwards and she falls to the floor. Her skills allows her to roll off easily and avoid harm, but the words keep repeating over and over in her mind, reaching deep into her soul and staying there.
He'll be happy to see you.
When the words do come back, it is probably nothing like Shinjiro imagined.
"No! No no no no...I can't...." she crawls away from him until she hits a wall, eyes widened in surprise and hands covering her mouth in horror. "I-I can't see him!"
She always had these scenarios in her mind about what she'd ever do if she met her brother again. Idle fantasy that she grew out of as the years progressed. Would he be proud of her and what she'd been doing? She always imagined him tall and powerful like he'd been for her that night. A hero worship that came with the realization that she simply couldn't be as good as him; but rather that she was proud to follow in his footsteps in his honor.
But she could never remember what he looked like...
"H-he can't see me...I don't deserve to..." She looks at Shinjiro again, feeling as helpless as the young child he once knew. The one that stayed in her room most of the time, unable to make friends due to her quiet, lonely nature. It doesn't matter who this Shinjiro is. She doesn't care, for he's her familiar face in a sea of confusion, her brother, and the only one she knows. Or rather...she knew. "Shinji...I...I let you die..."
She had promised to protect others in Aki's name. And yet when it came right down to it, she had lost the one person that had been the most precious to the both of them.
How could she face her brother after that?
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So when the chair clatters to the floor—when she looks like she's fighting down the edge of panic—his eyes widen, and he stands up quickly, his otherwise stoic face a mask of bewilderment and confusion, though not much escapes past the facade. His eyes track her until she stops, no longer having any other place to crawl to. It's like she's afraid of him, except she's afraid of Aki. But Aki's not—
He doesn't—
Why wouldn't she want to see him?
Doesn't she get how long it's been—how happy Aki is going to be seeing her alive?
He doesn't get it for a few moments, mutely staring at her from his place across the room. Perhaps if he had been pulled from a time after he had woken from his coma, he might have had a opportunity to remember a visitor he had once. A friend of his who had broken down, expressing some of the same thoughts that Miki currently was. Both Sanadas had come out of the orphanage accident vowing to become stronger than they had been, and once Shinjiro begins to understand her train of thought, connecting the puzzle-like edges of her statements together, he starts to walk towards her, picking up the chair from off the floor so that it stands like it's supposed to.
"That's the most bullshit excuse I've ever heard." And it is. The hell was that logic? She might not know Aki like he does, but that's not enough. "Don't be a moron."
He hesitates then. Stops a foot away from her and slowly kneels down until his eyes are more or less level with hers. It's hard to look into them. "That idiot loves you. Probably not a day goes by when he doesn't think of you. Me being dead and shit ain't going to change that. I'm already gone in his world—and mine. Nothing he could do to stop it." He breathes in, out, and looks away. His voice fluctuating like spikes on a heart monitor, rough and raw as sandpaper. He retreats back a few paces until he's sitting, back up against a wall. "Not even a Sanada can stop bullets with his fists. Everything ended… just how it was supposed to."
It's what the kid had wanted. His repayment of a debt. And Shinjiro knows, immediately, that just like Minato and Aki and the rest, she can't know that he lived in his world. Dying isn't hard, living on is. For everyone involved. In his world, he had only been saved by luck and by the diligent persevering stubbornness of a girl who cared too much.
"...Do you hate him?" he says suddenly. "Do you hate him for letting you die? You hate me for not running in to save you?"
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With a sigh, she leans back again and bangs her head against the wall. "I'm...I'm glad he got to live somewhere else. I always think about him and what he'd want me to do...I'm just...afraid. I know I shouldn't be, but there's this voice telling me I didn't work hard enough to deserve seeing him again. I'm sorry." She turns to him again and attempts to smile, shaking her head. "Tch. You were always telling me to keep my chin up. I'm not doing a good job right now, am I..."
Bringing her knees closer to her body, she stares off to the upright chair.
"I just wish I could have been there earlier. You always were thick-headed," she adds in a half-laugh, hand on her forehead. "I always tried to get you to join SEES again...and when you finally did, you had to get yourself killed a short while later..."
It was a tough truth to swallow that he had died in his world too. That the universe apparently decided that Shinjiro's death had been predetermined and nothing could change it. So were the three of them destined to be interwoven with nothing but tragedy? It seems...so unfair. "I knew it was October 4th. I didn't think of it too much. After all, that date had passed by the years before. Until...until I made the connection of why you had joined again. I thought it was to stop Strega and the Dark Hour. I knew about the drugs too, but I thought you were going to change. If we stopped the Dark Hour, that meant there wouldn't be shadows anymore, and you could finally be free..." She knew all too well of his pain in being a Persona user. That fateful night when Castor had gone berserk and even Helen had been unable to calm him down. It had been one of her own reasons as to why she had fought so hard. Without shadows, there was no need for Persona. Shinji wouldn't have to worry anymore, and her brother's freedom was what she had desired the most out of this. He would still have the guilt of Ken's mother on his mind, but if she could lighten his burden even a tiny speck for him...she would have moved mountains if need be.
"But I realized...too late...that you had gone off to see Amada." She says his name with a tone of informality. If she had been from a closer time to that date, it would have been laced with venom, but their talk before the fight against Nyx had mellowed her in regards to the youngest Strega member. "We arrived too late. I saw him and Minato running off...I thought the Strega leader had killed you. I only found out the truth and Sakaki's involvement later..."
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So in the universe's twisted way of doing things, she had essentially taken the place of her brother. That meant she was a Pesona user, something he can't say he wanted for her. He looks up sharply at the mention of Minato though, eyes narrowing. He doesn't know Minato that well, except that he's a good, quiet kid and that Minako trusts him.That he had been someone who had earned the respect of two of the people he trusted most. Hard to think he could become a leader of Strega, but he doesn't know enough about Minato to say. Who had led SEES then? Minako? Mitsuru?
But those answers are currently unimportant. What matters most is the issue at hand. He can cross that other bridge soon enough.
"So what then?" he says. "I know you're scared, but Aki isn't the type of person anyone is scared of. If you don't hate us for not being able to save you, then what makes you think he'd be any different? That maybe Aki would blame you for something you had no control over, and you don't deserve to meet him because you weren't a minute faster?" Shinjiro certainly doesn't. He had expected to die, and even if he hadn't, there's no blame for him to place. "There's only one thing he ever wanted, and that was for you to grow up into the person you wanted to be." A small smile tugs at lips, trying to break away from his forced impassiveness he's trying his hardest to maintain. "I think you've accomplished that much. Only thing you're gonna do is make him cry."
He may not be crying himself, but he might as well be. His eyes are red enough that they're almost not grey anymore.
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"I always wondered what he'd look like," she admits, able to look at him again. Shinjiro isn't the only one with red eyes, her right sleeve is getting damp at this point. "And...what I'd do if I ever saw him...." Just like that, the fear is starting to melt away, and she starts to get excited by the idea. The fact she was seeing him crack a smile helps a lot. He wouldn't say all those words just to make her feel better. Something she had always admired about her brother was his frankness with his words, for better or worse.
"But I thought guys shouldn't cry." It's a feeble attempt at teasing him as well. He's right. Talking it out is helping her calm down significantly. He always was good at getting her to do things and to listen to him. "What is he like? Apart from being a crybaby and an idiot." She doesn't ask if they still helped each other out with her being gone.
That wasn't even a question.
"And what about you? If that happened in your world too, what's the last thing you remember?"
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He falls silent then, halting at her last question. His brows furrow. What he remembers? Dying. Or almost, apparently. Seeing a girl cry. And that kid had had the weirdest expression on him that he had ever seen. Like somebody had kicked him in the gut. No reason for him to make a face like that when he was getting what he wanted.
"The fourth is the last thing I remember," he says. Simple enough. And he almost leaves it there, but he remembers his memories of what happened were different than hers. It's something that needs to be corrected, so that Minako's brother isn't blamed for something he never did. "It's just a bit different from yours."
He sighs, mouth thinning. "Minato never led Strega. He died a decade earlier. I never knew he existed until now. Sakaki led Strega, with Shirato and that Chidori girl." Until Iori had gotten a hold of her anyway. He assumes Miki will know Takaya was the one that shot him. That much hadn't changed. "In Aki's world, Minato lived and led SEES. That's who you saw at the festival. In mine, he was dead. Minako took his place as leader—she was the girl you met."
1/2
"...Oh." Before her brain can fully digest what he said. "...I suppose I should apologize to him." Later on, of course, when this is all over. Minato can wait.
"Minako huh? In my world, her name is Minami. Well, honestly she does look a lot like her, but they definitely aren't the same person. She's the younger sibling. Minato is the older. They took him away for testing. We didn't find out until Ikutsuki's betrayal and the paper trail he left behind."
If there was one person Miki would love to punch, it was definitely him.
"Wait so just the three of them?" She tilts her head at him, having expected more names, "What about Amada and Koromaru?"
2/2
"Sooo...Minako huh..." Shinji might regret having managed to calm her down.
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He can handle Minato being in Strega, as off as it seems to him. He was an orphan, so he may have very well been taken away for testing by the Kirijo group. The process that went on there was horrible, and if he follows that line of thought, he can't say he's surprised Minato ended up with the other three and became who he was. He can see that line of development.
He can accept the existence of Minami, though he's suddenly unsure why Minako isn't present, as they had been twins, but he supposes it's just another one of the world's idiosyncrasies. Or maybe the Minato in that world hadn't seen any need to mention someone that died many years ago. But even if that's the case, in any world, a person doesn't necessarily have to exist. All it takes is minor thing being changed to cause the dominos to fall in an entirely different direction—and that could mean someone suddenly not being born.
But Amada being in Strega—that's not where he belongs. And not Koromaru either. Amada was just a kid. He didn't need to be surrounded by more murderers than he had to be. He had to live with one back in his September. He didn't need to live with more, especially not someone as cruel as Takaya.
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"Minato, Chidori, Shirato, Amada and Koromaru. Sakaki used to be part of them too, but from what Minato told me, they kicked him out after a hit. He became crazier as time went on..."
Some things hadn't completely changed.
"Before the final battle, Ken and I talked. About the future, Phoen--" she stops suddenly. "--We talked about our respective teams a lot. He helped me understand Minato. I really had thought he had killed you...Amada said they were like a close knit family. They found him in an alley during the dark hour, and Minato insisted they brought him with them. It was...odd hearing a group you'd been trying to stop for the past few months being talked like...like I felt with SEES. I was glad he had found people he could proudly call that way..." She closed her eyes and brought her knees closer. Ken might have surrounded himself by murders, but it seemed that they had been taking care of him. They had, after all, found him first.
"I made him promise that after this was all over, he'd get a proper education. Maybe we could find a way to get Shirato and Minato enrolled too, for all that good that would do. Not that it would ever excuse them for what they had done...but I guess even Strega deserved a second chance. That's what happened in the end, after all..."
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Which is how it should have been. Though it would be more correct to say that neither of them should have been part of SEES or Strega at all in the first place—just not had anything to do with either group. All Koromaru needed was a roof over his head and someone to take care of him. And Amada... should have been allowed to be a kid. He should've still been watching anime and manga and shit, doing stupid kid things. He shouldn't have been going around acting like he expected to wake up the next morning as someone far older than his body pretended to be. Like he could grow up overnight by wishing it.
But this is... something Shinjiro knows he can't change. This isn't his world. He can only hear the echoes of what had happened. If he could change things, everything about his life would be different. He still doesn't like it, but the only person to blame for that is him. Amada had ultimately made his own choice. Shinjiro had set him on that path, and he had chosen to walk down it in Miki's world. That kid was going to one day become just like him, just as Shinjiro had warned him. You couldn't be around people like that and not be—not likely, unless Miki was right in saying they had a good possibility of turning their lives around. And maybe they could. He can't see that far ahead.
"And Shirato and Sakaki are dead, far as I know. In the end, Shirato killed himself. Minako didn't know what happened to Sakaki."
Shinjiro still assumes Tartarus collapsed on top of him. That seemed as good of a guess as any.
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"So if we really HAD found them first, it would have been different." She has to admit that the dog is adorable and some part of her has always wished that he had been a part of THEIR team instead of Strega's. During the final run in Tartarus, she had found herself fighting with him a lot. Yet at the same time, it must have been hard for Shinjiro to have been in the same team as Ken. Knowing what had happened, it was making her depressed....
...and they shouldn't be doing that right now. Enough of all these what if's, and idle musings!
"D-do you...think you could call him up?" There was going to be more than enough time to compare stories later, and Miki has to admit since she's now over her fear and having been reassured, the excitement is getting to her. . "...Actually maybe I should go get my nightwear first since I have a feeling no one will want to leave."
She's sleeping over. You can't argue, sorry.
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Though it's hard to say. It apparently doesn't take much to change a fate that had always seemed to be inevitable. Maybe her world would have been more like his if they had found Ken just a little bit sooner; but then again, maybe it wouldn't have. There are so many different elements intertwined in her timeline that makes it hard to answer anything with certainty. With Aki and Mitsuru's world, at least, things didn't seem to be too fundamentally different in the long scheme of things. He and Mitsuru were only led by a different leader, but ultimately followed the same path. In Miki's, it seems the paths diverged more than his world and Aki's could account for.
He leans further back against the wall, eyes softening a little as his eyes turn upward to stare at the ceiling. He nods. "Yeah. I can call him." A pause. But no, he's not going to argue, not tonight. His heart's not in it. "But might as well grab what you want. I'll call him when you get back."
It will give her time and space to think things through if she needs it. For once, they have plenty of time. For this, at least.
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Miki's thoughts were racing as much as her heart and the way she tore inside the apartment corridors. The roller coaster of emotions that night was already making her head spin, and she had a feeling what was soon to happen was going to make it worse. There were so many questions in her head now that she could think of them attempting to grab everything that was important.
What did he look like? He was in SEES too, so that meant he had a Persona. What was it? How did he fight? Would she be able to recognize him? ...would he recognize her...
She swallowed again and before leaving, managed to grab the tissue box that had been placed in her bathroom before her arrival. They would probably need this.
When she arrived in Shinjiro's apartment again, she was carrying a pretty large load that threatened to topple over. Considering her thoughts, it was a miracle she hadn't forgotten anything.
"Okay. Think I got everything." It was now or never.
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But there's not much of that kid left now. He can only arch an eyebrow at her as she comes through her door. Faintly amused, maybe, but there's more regret there than anything. His eyes are still red, and even though she's here he still feels just a bit empty. And even though the small smile that ghosts onto his face as he stands up from his place against the wall—he hadn't moved when she had left—is genuine, time and life has gotten to it.
He doesn't even think he's said her name yet.
He helps her bring her things in, taking whatever she'll let him until most of it is put in an acceptable place. He'll look over the contents of what she brought more in-detail later. For now, he has a job to do.
He takes out his COMP, scrolling through his contacts until he finds Aki. He again is at a loss for what to say, because he doesn't think he could talk to Aki over the device as he is now. His voice still doesn't have the decency to work right. So he types something up instead. Simple and vague. Some things have to be seen for yourself, anyway.
All it is is a single sentence:
Not can you. Not will you. But need. He hasn't asked something of Aki in a long time, hasn't needed anything from him, and it feels strange to ask. But that's his fault. Two years of trying to put distance between you and another person will do that. He doesn't regret it, but he feels it.
But Aki will come, wherever the he is, because that's how he's always been.
my heart ;_;
The original text had been an interesting choice of words, but at the same time, Akihiko felt it was very typical of Shinji. Shinji never asked him for much, and when he did, he was rarely this direct, but the use of the word need was more than enough to tell him that whatever was going on, it was important. Beyond important, really. He was of the opinion that Shinji let things that were just plain "important" simmer until there was absolutely no choice but to get someone else involved. His health, for instance, came to mind.
Whatever was going on now, though, was vital enough that there was no time for hesitation. Two short minutes after the message had been received, he was standing outside Shinji's door, knocking.
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Now that it was happening, for real, not a test, not sitting in the corner, she stands close by to the door, as if she can somehow peek behind it. See what he's like before the door is swung open. She could just look through the peephole, but that also makes her afraid that she'll see nothing there. It's a strange mixture of emotions dancing in her heart. She's trained for years at calming herself, at being the green reed which bends in the wind as her dojo Sensei would say. Yet now she just feels like she's six again, images of the fire flashing before her eyes, of the brother who saved her life at the cost of his own.
Behind that door, is a sibling who wished he could have done the same, but had been held back. Would the outcome have been the same? Had her other self died waiting under her bed like she had started to do before Aki broke in? It was...strange to think of what your last thoughts would have been. How different would she have turned out...or him...or Shinji had nothing happened?
Two minutes, and already too many thoughts. Her left hand starts to tremble, and she bites down on her lip, attempting to calm herself down. For while there is some degree of fear of the unknown, of the man standing behind the door, there's also anticipation.
The three of them reunited. It was something she thought could only happen in dreams. He was a Persona user too, and even if he hadn't, he would be now thanks to this place. What did he look like? Did he look the same as he had long ago, as little as she could remember? How had he grown up like? What did he wear?
Questions that could be answered tonight. No...that would be answered tonight. That gives her so much happiness, she almost fears she'll burst or fall over from it. The last thing Miki wants to do is faint like some sort of badly-timed dark comedy. She is stronger than that....deep breaths.
Deep. Breaths.
There was just the problem. As much as she kept trying to raise her hand, she can't make herself open the door.
If this is a dream, she doesn't want to wake up from it.
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He's leaning against the apartment wall nearest to the table when he hears the knock—almost moves to answer the door, but stops himself when he sees Miki approach it. He watches her, carefully. Waits to see if she'll open the door herself, because if she can, then good for her. He'll let her if she feels up to it.
But when it becomes obvious she can't—once he lets a small but significant amount of time pass, just in case all she needs is a minute—he leans forward and clears the space between him and the door. Sees her hand shaking again. She's stronger than she was, but some facets of a person's personality don't fade away so easily, if ever at all. And that's okay. He can open a damn door for her. He'll just hope that, the next time around, she'll be ready to do it herself.
His right hand settles on her shoulder, pulling her back, gesturing for her to move a ways behind him, give him space to let Aki in. "I'll do it." He can understand that she's nervous. Still afraid, probably—and a host of other things. He just wishes she didn't have to be afraid of Aki for even a second. He's no one to be afraid of. Ever.
He keeps his voice deliberately low as he reaches for the door handle, quiet enough so only Miki can hear. "He's just your brother. Remember that."
That has never changed. He's not someone she ever has to be afraid of, or feel second-rate to.
He pulls open the door then, not as composed as he would normally be, but he can't help that. Can't pound his uneven voice into submission, can't smooth back the rawness there, nor remove the red from his eyes. "Hey." He looks at Aki briefly as he steps back to let him inside. Doesn't quite make eye-contact with him yet. "There's someone you need to see."
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;_;
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