Stranger Than Reality

Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of the Persona series.

Game Over

Yukiko sighed when she saw a fierce Maragi spell from a flying table of sort had knocked down Chie and Souji. It was ridiculous, really.

She knew Yosuke always carried at least half a dozen revival beads – him being the Prince of Junes and all. And Amaterasu had a repertoire of at least three healing skills, including one that could bring even the deadest team members to life. She snapped her fan shut and re-opened it multiple times, knowing that Chie was hurting and there was nothing she could do.

And that in a moment all this would end and they would have to re-do the whole last few hours again. Two level ups and four levels to re-attempt. Not to mention losing all the yen they had collected. Ridiculous, when Amaterasu still had two-thirds of her energy reserve and Yosuke's pockets were still bulging from all the meds.

The table turned towards Souji. They all knew what was about to happen.

Chie groaned as a big ball of fire hurtled towards their leader. "Not this aga

Turns

"I do not understand," Naoto said as she polished the barrel of her guns in near boredom. "Why we are required to fight in turns. It is a foolish and unnecessary show of chivalry."

"PatieNCE YOung PaDAwan," judging by Yosuke's tone, he was listening a song in ¾ time – foot tapping in rhythm with his syllables. "IT'S perfectLY normal FOR-" He caught Chie cracking her knuckles in his peripheral vision and coughed. "Well, anyways, you'll soon get used to it. Just bring a magazine or something next time."

Naoto stared at him.

"Rangda!"

Across her a humanoid persona appeared and did something to damage the shadow nearest to it. She had no idea what. It was all so vague. It was supposed to be a slash attack, right? But that persona carried no conceivable weapon at all, so how... The teeth, perhaps? Or the nails? But it had merely floated on top of Souji briefly and did some ridiculous action pose before disappearing again. Invisible missile? Or perhaps-

She turned to see Yukiko's fan on her shoulders. "Your turn, Naoto-kun," she said, smiling, then resumed her previous position to Naoto's left.

There was only ash where the shadow was, so she turned towards the other one, cocked her gun, and shot. It seemed like her gun had never been as shiny, she thought when she caught her reflection on the metal. She looked up to see Chie opening a packet of rice crackers.

Chie noticed her and held it out. "Want one?"

Naoto looked around. Souji was standing stock-still like always. Yukiko looked like she was – and Naoto actually double-checked her vision – doing homework, complete with a calculator and all. And Yosuke was doing his spinning around thing.

Sighing, she walked towards Chie. Might as well have a little snack while waiting for her turn.

Armour

'Preparation' would be at the top of the list when asked what Yosuke hated most about the TV world.

He grunted as he struggled to button his school shirt against his body plate. Sure it looked kind of cool – the intricate inlays and ergonomic design and all. He would never dream of entering the TV without it. But really. Must they be so darn bulky?

Who the hell even thought of sneaking into Junes by wearing their armour inside their uniform in the first place? That idiot must be so stu- Wait; that was him. He wanted to bang his head on the wall. A huge duffel bag would have garnered so much less attention. And not take the finer part of an hour to prepare. Souji could always sneak his sword in by pretending he was from the kendo club. Chie and Yukiko would have no trouble at all with their weapons.

With their names came the painful memory of being subject to Chie's punt when he had laughed at them both. All hard angles with various bits of armour sticking out under their uniform. Especially Chie and the socks that ripped from the strain of accommodating her crazy metal boots. Or Yukiko's face when she realized she had to buy a new cardigan every week since it takes about as long for the old one to stretch from the armour. Girls and their fashion.

Sweat beaded his forehead. Just a little more. He pulled and pulled – the shirt was getting a bit stretched, closing the gap a smidgen but helpful millimetre or two. Close. So close. A liiiiiiitle bit more.

...YES!

He was about to pump his fist from victory when suddenly half of the buttons flew off with a series of very undramatic snaps. He looked at the mirror for a while, then grabbed his phone. That Tatsumi dude could afford to wait for another day. He's calling in sick.

And then he'd go to Junes to buy a very, very nice bag.