2009

Her sister is surrounded by what feels like every suitcase they own, and Makoto forces down the lump in her throat. She's too old to cry, she tells herself, and Sae is only going to be gone for the year. A year. Forever. "You're going to an island? That sounds really fun. Will you bring me back a souvenir?"

"Any kind you want." Sae's voice is smooth and even because Sae never raises her voice or does anything wrong. Not like Makoto, who is always pretend-fighting with Dad and making Mom wonder aloud what they're going to do with her. "It's not the kind of island you're thinking of, though. It's run by the Kirijo Group." A coughing fit seizes her. "I hope this really does help. I don't like leaving you alone."

"It will be fine," Makoto says, even though she doesn't feel fine at all. She's heard Mom, Dad, and Sae talking in low voices when they thought Makoto couldn't hear. Words like "bronchitis" and "drug-resistant." If going to this Tatsumi Port Island for a year means Sae won't be sick all the time, then Makoto will be as good and brave as she can.

"Good." Sae kneels and takes Makoto in her arms. "I love you."

The next day, Makoto stands with her parents and waves until her arm is sore as Sae vanishes towards what might as well be another world entirely.

2016

Makoto takes a deep breath and opens her sister's laptop. The USB is heavy in her pocket. It's not spying, and if it is spying, then it's for the greater good. They need to know who might be behind these mental shutdowns. She wishes she could just ask, that she could untangle the knots of rage in Sae's soul the way they've untangled Futaba's grief and self-loathing, but she doesn't know how. And Sae despises the Thieves and wouldn't believe her about the Metaverse.

A wall of text flashes on screen. An email from a Mitsuru Kirijo. Kirijo? Makoto knows that name. The Kirijo Group is a corporation rumored to be involved in all sorts of shady, even occult, things. They run everything on Port Island, and they're the ones that developed the treatment that mean Sae is just as active and athletic as Makoto. Sae had come back pale and quiet, shoving a T-shirt into Makoto's hands and answering only in monosyllables when she had asked what it had been like. A preview, Makoto thinks, of the aftermath of Dad's death. She reads:

Sae,

I wish I had more information for you. It certainly sounds like what you're dealing with is a resurgent epidemic of Apathy Syndrome, but our best equipment turns up no sign of the Dark Hour. It may be a entirely parallel world, like the one in Inaba, but I have no idea how to enter. We may simply be forced to wait for the other party to make their move, but consider that a last resort. If you and Persephone find a way to enter, contact me at once. These Shadows nearly destroyed two towns. I shudder to think what they could do with Tokyo to feast on. I'll be in touch.

Mitsuru

Makoto blinks and reads the email a second time, all thoughts of the USB forgotten. Her sister knows about Shadows? It certainly sounds like it. But that...that can't be right. Makoto would know. Her sister always sneers whenever a TV program talks about magic. Makoto had wanted to have her fortune told when she was thirteen, and Sae had berated her for spending Dad's money on nonsense. And Makoto would know.

Would you? Johanna's voice echoes in her head. It's not as if she takes you into her confidence these days. And who would be angrier about paranormal phenomena that don't exist that a person familiar with those that do?

"What do you think you're doing?"

Makoto turns, but it's too late. Sae stands before her, her hair still damp from her bath. Her skin is deathly pale except for two spots of color on either cheek, and her eyes flash red. She trembles. Her fingers flex. Makoto tenses. She has never seen that look on her sister's face before: rage and grief and a burning shame. "What do you think you're doing?" she repeats.

And for all her strategies in the Metaverse, Makoto has developed a plan for what to do if Sae caught her. There's no lie she can tell to make this look good, and shock and panic are short-circuiting the analytic part of her brain in any case. "You know about Shadows?" she asks dumbly.

"You know about Shadows?" Sae's eyes go wide and her own shock takes the edge from the rage. "How do you know about Sh—no, it can't be."

Makoto can follow Sae's thought process as easily as if she had spoken it allowed. If Shadows have something to do with the mental shutdowns and so do the Phantom Thieves, then therefore only experts and Phantom Thieves know about them. Time seems to slow, and Makoto imagines she can hear her heart hammering in her chest. The next few seconds will make the difference between freedom for her friends and imprisonment or something worse. "I read about it on the Phansite. Some people think that that's how the Phantom will make a change of heart. They fight the person's Shadow." With any luck, Sae would be so enraged by the Phantom Thieves that she will forget all about Makoto.

Sae's eyes narrow and glitter like gemstones. Her breath is harsh, rasping. "Is that what you think these Phantom Thieves are? Heroes battling Shadows with their Personas to save the world and fight for justice? Like Dad?"

Personas? She know about Personas too? What kind of secrets has Sae been keeping from her? "I think they're heroes. Stopping Kamoshida, Kaneshiro, and Medjed. Nobody else was going to."

"You—you child!Don't you understand that a hero is only a meaningless title for someone who died because the world is selfish and cruel and the game was rigged against them from the start?" She takes a deep breath, and when she speaks again, her voice is like ice. "I think it's time you learn what happens to heroes. Follow me."

But Makoto is too shocked by all these revelations to move and the next thing she knows Sae is half-leading, half-dragging her towards the master bedroom. Makoto barely has time to register that her sister's bed doesn't look as if it's been slept in in days before Sae is shoving open the closet door and digging through a box of knickknacks with cold, determined fury. Finally, she seems satisfied and yanks out two items for Makoto's inspection. One is a slightly-faded red armband emblazoned with the letters S.E.E.S. but the other...Makoto bites back a gasp. It's a model gun, or at least she thinks it is. An empty vial sits where the chamber should be. "Sis?"

"You want to know about Shadows and heroes? Let me tell you a story: of a madman who wanted to bring about the end of the world and enlisted a group of teenagers to help him. Including me." More deep breaths. "On my first night in Port Island, all the clocks stopped and I was surrounded by coffins…"

Makoto listens, and it's all she can do to pretend to be normal, to not ask a thousand questions that would give her away in an instant. Sae more than knows about Personas. She has one. She had to take that gun—the Evoker—point it to her head, and pull the trigger again and again. Her Shadows were not like Makoto's; they were bestial masses of rage fit only to battle. Except they never should have been fought at all.

"Ikutsuki manipulated us from the start. Defeating those twelve Shadows brought them together as Nyx, the very thing we were tasked to prevent." Sae sinks onto the edge of the bed, and her voice is old and tired. "We were offered the choice of how to die: fighting and terrified or living in blissful ignorance until the end came."

"What did you choose?"

Sae laughs, but it's a bitter, broken rasp. "We were children. What do you think? We thought there had to be a way to defeat Nyx, so we fought our way to the top of Tartarus and prepared for a final battle. But Ryoji was right. There was no hope. All the magic Persephone and I had learned that year, and Nyx just threw it back at us like it was nothing." She buries her face in her hands. "Mankind's desire for death is stronger than anything. Love. Hope. Courage. It all ends in death."

"But you did win. The world hasn't ended." She wonders if Sae hears the crack in her voice. The Phantom Thieves have never been fun for Makoto the way they seem to be for Akira and Ryuji, but the work has still been a relief. She's learned how to work together with Johanna to do what she wants. Makoto has more agency—more control over her fate—in that world than she has ever had in this one. Will the day come when she sits on the bed with her shoulders hunched? The people whose Shadows they battle are monsters and murderers, but she can't imagine being responsible for the fate of the world. Sae would have been younger than Makoto is now. Her fist clenches. Who makes a child fight that kind of war?

"Only because of our. He gave up his life to seal that thing away." Her breath hitches almost imperceptibly. "He's stuck as a statue because humanity wants to destroy itself that badly. That's what happens to heroes, Makoto. He died, the world never even knew what he did, the same thing is happening again, and these glory hound Phantom Thieves are perverting everything we did for some quick celebrity. Don't idolize them."

Makoto sits beside her. Sae is shaking again, but not from rage. Makoto pretends not to notice the wetness at the corner of her eyes. "I don't idolize them. And not all heroes die. You fought, and you lived. You're fighting against whoever is killing these people."

"I was a stupid kid too excited about being able to run up a flight of stairs for the first time. It was the end of the world, and I wanted… I couldn't…" She finally meets Makoto's gaze. "Don't dream of heroes. Finish school, go to a good university, make a lot of money, and find a husband who will treat you like a human being. Live. Because heroes die in the cold and the dark and nothing ever changes."

It's not true, Makoto wants to say. She almost does. She could take out her phone at that moment and whisk them to Mementos. Sae can see her as Queen. Whatever she thinks of the Phantom Thieves, she does love Makoto deep down. Once Makoto explains, they can fight these demons as a family. And that, that will finally reawaken her sister's faith in justice. If only she can find the courage.

It doesn't work that way. Johanna sounds almost sad. I can feel the grief and rage rolling from her. Her Persona is bound in chains in her heart. You'll have to find another way.

How?

Don't you see? It's not cynicism or rage that spurs her on. It's pain, the grief of a woman who has lost too much and has only one thing precious left. The day will come when she will have to choose between her pain and losing it.

What thing?

You know. Or do you really think that Sae doesn't want you to become a police officer because of the money?

"Oh, Sis," Makoto whispers and throws her arms around Sae. Her sister is rigid but she's not pulling away and right now that's enough. Makoto will find a way to free her heart. It won't be by running through a Palace and stealing a Treasure, but she will find a way. And then there really will be no more secrets between them, and Sae will know that she doesn't have to fight another war by herself and that heroes are never forgotten.

Sae pulls back. "You must think I'm crazy. Personifications of Death, talking robots, doomsday cults that nearly succeeded."

"Maybe the Phansite really has rotted my brain." She sobers. "Can I ask a question? What could your Persona do?"

Sae blinks. "What an odd question. I was a jack of all trades. A doctor, when they needed it, but mostly I caused explosions that burned like nuclear fire."

Makoto's vision blurs. You're stronger than you know. I will find a way to help you remember who you are. I promise.

"Promise me that you will keep yourself safe," Sae continues. "No more of this Phansite nonsense or anything else. You, young lady, are grounded for the rest of the term."

Makoto nods. "I won't get into any trouble." There will be other days for her to do what she needs to with the USB. They will find who is responsible for the rampages and mental shutdowns and stop them. They will survive, and her sister will be happy, and she won't hiss when she speaks of justice. Persephone will rise again because love is stronger than fear.

They will be heroes.