Daydreams of Damocles

She raised the Evoker above her head, and in the metal of the gun, red eyes watched over her.

"You… remind me too much of myself."

"It's understandable, isn't it? You're my persona," she replied, twirling the firearm by its handle. After five successful revolutions, it slipped out her hand and landed on the bed sheet.

"You know what I mean. You shouldn't feign ignorance, it's not very wise."

"You're silly – I don't know a thing, I've only gotten to know you for a few nights now," the girl laughed in that patented carefree way of hers, the one she used to chase everything away. She decided to leave the Evoker be, and instead shifted so that she was lying on her side, her head in her pillow, eyes pinned away from the toy gun.

"You've known me all your life," Orpheus reached over and reminded her.

"Maybe," she replied blankly, "cause' you do look kind of familiar." She tossed and turned as the thought gnawed at her. "But I don't know what you're going on about right now, so good night." Deciding that the conversation wasn't making much sense at all, she swiped the Evoker up and shoved it snug under her mattress.

The strings of a harp started playing in her ears, and she smiled as the lullaby sent her to sleep.

Days later, when she realised she could house more than a couple of personas, she proceeded to hold elaborate dinner parties in her head and lively social gatherings during class when she was bored. The Personas argued and fought and ricocheted between chatty and reclusive moods. They came and they went with the breaking and building of tarot cards, the weaker ones leaving to make berth for the stronger ones.

Along the way, Orpheus quietly let herself out the backdoor too.

Yukari avoided the puddles that scattered the street, carrying her umbrella in one hand and clinging to the strap of her bag with the other. Rainy mornings were the worst times to travel to school, everything was wet and everyone would be jam-packed under anything that could function as a shelter.

She thought that maybe, if she'd waited for Minako and Junpei, she'd have a more enjoyable time walking to school. The fact was, she didn't exactly like being around them all the time, not with the society they orchestrated around themselves, held by the acquired taste of perverted jokes and coy smiles and unbridled laughter.

Yukari splashed into a tiny puddle that had gone unnoticed, and the resulting effect soaked her shoes and made her curse.

"It won't do for a lady to curse," Io advised from the ripples of the water. "And all these negative thoughts are uncalled for, I'm certain Junpei and Minako would love your company."

Yukari glanced at the puddles and chewed her lip in frustration, pulling both her bag and her umbrella closer to herself. She hated to admit it, but even after a month, the voice only she heard and the comforting words – they scared her much more than poising the gun to her head ever did.

"You still do not wish to talk to me?" she sounded disheartened.

"You're not supposed to be here. Go away," Yukari murmured to herself through her teeth, shutting her eyes and trying to make her leave.

"I'm showing care, Yukari," Io reasoned, not bothering to disguise the hurt in her voice. "I am you, and I hope you will not continue to shun me."

"Go away, please," she chanted.

"Alright, but you must know that I can't actually do that."

The water on the sidewalk washed into the drains, and all Yukari could hear was the annoying tap of the rain against her tilted umbrella.

Yukari didn't like how despite the chains weighing down against that pitch black skin, despite the fact that she sat herself in the hideous hollow of an ox, her Persona was unquestionably beautiful. She was patient and kind and understanding. All of the qualities Yukari admired, but never got around to actually becoming. It was hard not to upset that popular, charming girl-image everyone who didn't know her assumed she was, what with Junpei's constancy in her life. He wasn't being a deliberate pain in the ass, but that didn't stop her from putting the blame on him.

Junpei got on her nerves because he could call out all the bad things about her with one careless comment. He wasn't even aware about what he did, which made all the hostility on her part seem childish and uncalled for. Yukari couldn't compare herself to Io in any way at this point – which made her wonder why her Persona had to be this glamorous monster, of all possible mythical, thousand-year old deities.

The more Io fought, the weaker Yukari felt.

[Thank you for helping me last week.] Fuuka smiled as she typed away on her laptop.

"You're very welcome," Lucia replied, clasping her hands together. "I'll help you and your friends look out for trouble, since that's the only thing I can do."

[That's helpful enough,] Fuuka backspaced to replace the exclamation mark with a comma, [let's work hard together to help the team in whatever way we can manage.]

"Agreed," Lucia sang out, in a contented tone.

[You're very nice, you don't need to be so nice to me…] the girl's hands lingered over the keyboard.

"Now, now, what's this?" the woman asked. "Please don't think I'm just pretending to be nice, I don't like liars at all. With eyes like mine, you see so many liars every day that you grow tired of all the acting."

[Really?]

"Those girls who bully you, they lie all the time. They don't think you're ugly, they think you're beautiful," Lucia informed her plainly.

Fuuka couldn't quite wrap understanding around what the Persona was telling her, it seemed almost contradictory for Lucia to admonish fabrications, but bother to come up with little white lies just to make her feel better.

Unless, Lucia was honestly telling the truth – no, no, it couldn't possibly be true – no. She should change the topic.

[Will I be able to help my friends if they're in trouble? Will I be able to tell what's to come?]

"That's something I will never be able to tell," Lucia advised, "only you will have the ability to determine that, Fuuka."

The girl didn't quite know how to reply to the words. She nodded, a small and discreet motion, before closing the laptop and getting onto her feet. Akihiko, who walked up from behind her, was carrying a cup of hot cocoa and an alarmed expression struck him as soon as she turned towards him.

His reaction was uncalled for though, because Fuuka avoided bumping into him with skilled precision, and instead, trudged silently up the stairs.

Akihiko huffed, swinging his fists and keeping count in his head. Twenty-two sets.

"Harder, faster, stronger!"

Akihiko lost his perfect pacing and stopped jabbing the sand bag, throwing a punch at the wall instead. The vibrations caused a trophy to topple off its place on the shelf in his room. The boy walked over to pick it up and came face to face with a pair of empty eyes that had been hiding in the polished shine of the award.

"Stop mocking me," he told them, gritting his teeth.

"I'm not," Polydeuces defended, "this is, after all, what you regard as the key to becoming stronger."

"Isn't it?" Akihiko replied in a tone a little too sour for his liking.

"Hey, have you seen me in Tartarus lately, do you think I need to get stronger than I already am?"

The boxer lowered his gaze, his gloves tightening around the first place trophy. For all the praises about his untouchable winning streak that he ignored, Polydeuces gladly lapped them up. He was as cocky as Shinji, which was a dangerously risky position to be in. Well, for anyone other than Shinjiro himself or a divine being – but still.

"No, we still don't have the power to protect anyone, we have to continue training," Akihiko said, directing the words more at himself than at Polydeuces.

"You honestly believe physical strength is what will give you the ability to protect Shinji and Mitsuru and the whole gang?" Polydeuces asked, highly incredulous."I've always had a bit of doubt, really. It's in the pit of my stomach and I can't explain it but there's got to be another way we're missing here."

Sometimes, more often than not, Akihiko had a sudden, unrestrainable urge to punch himself, just to see what would happen to Polydeuces.

"Yes I do, and you of all people should understand why I'm doing this," Akihiko replied as he reached up to set the trophy back into its spot amongst the others.

"Look, kid, just because I'm you, doesn't mean I have to agree with you."

Akihiko was perplexed.

"You've got the hots for her, don'cha?"

"Stop bugging me, man," Junpei answered as he flicked through the television channels, never finding a show to settle on.

"I think she's cute, though kinda' weird," Hermes talked over the sound.

"Woah, hold it right there!" Junpei rolled off the bed and landed loudly on the floor of his cluttered room. "You can't talk about Chidori like that!" he demanded. "She's just… special!" he added in a vague attempt to substantiate his claim.

If Hermes had eyebrows he'd probably be raising them with skepticism.

"Same thing, she's not normal," he retorted, a tinge of a laugh in his voice.

"I'm not exactly normal neither," Junpei huffed, folding his arms and wondering why, of all things, he was conversing with the screen of his television.

"You like to think you aren't." Hermes shrugged.

"Aren't I?" Junpei felt his voice soften, and he lowered his eyes to the floor.

There was no reply.

Ken stood on the tips of his toes and marked out the end of the day with a slash across the calendar square.

"One more month," Nemesis said expectantly.

The boy turned to see the shape of his face silhouetted just below the rim of his glass of milk.

"We've been through this before."

"Eight times," Ken said, recalling the monthly countdowns he had made a habit since the beginning of the year. The more they talked about it, the less sure he was about how he was going to go about killing someone twice his height and shoulders thrice as wide.

"Don't you worry, I'm here for you," she reassured him.

"Thank you," he smiled, albeit weakly. Nemesis had the innate ability to be sweet and bitter at the same time. The way she talked, the way she stood behind him and coaxed him with praise and support – she was a constant mirror of his mother. It was the way she put her claws on his shoulders and squeezed, the way she smiled even without a mouth.

"This is the right thing to do, isn't it?" he croaked out, fumbling with the zipper of the jacket his mother bought for him three Christmases ago.

"Anything that makes you happy, love," Nemesis answered."I'll stay with you no matter what happens."

Ken closed his eyes, and tried to remember how his mother looked like in human skin.

"We're dead men."

The knight in the pocket watch reminded him, and he did so quite pointedly.

"I know," Shinjiro chuckled as he tucked it into his trench coat. "It was fun while it lasted, though," he admitted as he trudged down the empty street and towards the vengeance of a ten-year old, " – wasn't expecting it at all."

"Y-You were hoping, though," Castor began hissing, voice cracking apart as it turned up a notch.

"… Shut up," he said as he downed two capsules.

"What are you doing to yourself?"

"All the things he– " Mitsuru faltered at the mention of her father, "would have wanted me to do after he was gone." She unbuttoned her collar before continuing to slot the documents and proposals into her briefcase. The meeting room was empty save for the heiress and Penthesilea, who sprawled herself out in the middle of the round table. Its seats would be filled in another half hour's time, with another group of business men carrying contradictory condolences and business deals.

"He wouldn't have wanted you to have three-hour nights and balance five projects at once. He definitely won't like the fact that you bothered to style your hair this morning, but forgot to call your friends and tell them not to worry." Penthesilea considered on her behalf, spidery hands tapping a tempo on the table.

"Funny how you should lecture me, when you, of all people, should know how much I have to handle right now," Mitsuru snapped, catching the image of her face on the surface of the table.

Yes, her hair was curled flawlessly, her make-up done with refined conservation, her clothes with all the creases ironed out. But her eyes – there were shadows under them that even the make-up couldn't conceal, and she realised how lost she looked just then.

"Cry, Mitsuru. No one's going to see."

That's right. Thinking back, she'd only allowed herself to cry that one night last week. It was faint, but she could still feel her father's tie hot against her cheek and Akihiko's arms folding down and around her. He'd carefully pried her off so they could close her father's eye and clean the wound. She remembered Akihiko and his defeated speechlessness, his hands set on her arms, guiding her back home.

"Not now," she exhaled out, gathering composure as she straightened up. There was still much to be done – a month's load of work which she wanted to get done within the week, if only because she missed the small cosy dorm and the sight of people she'd grown to love.

"Soon?" she hoped.

"When we're home," Mitsuru promised herself.

The trouble with having so many heavenly, demonic, happy and sad characters wander inside the limited capacity of her brain, was the fact that it made decisions desperately difficult for her.

Every now and again, even the simplest questions became wars that waged between the arcanas in her skull. Half of her wanted to smile and laugh and be happy because the world was wonderful in all its technicolour. The other faction preferred that she frown and inform everyone who bugged her for advice or affection or the right words, that she was going to be driven off the deep end pretty soon. Maybe it was because she handled the most miniscule and most severe things about life with equal diligence

If there was one thing everyone could agree on, it was the fact that Akihiko was amazing in more ways than one, Junpei was a lovable goofball, Yukari was infinitely nicer once she'd sorted out her issues, Ken was adorably mature, Mitsuru had perfect hair, Fuuka's kindness overshadowed her cooking, Shinjiro would wake up soon, and Aegis was beautiful. Oh, and that Koromaru offered the best listening ear in the entire dorm. These were thse things that kept her sane through it all.

But her other friends – just – she honestly didn't know when they wanted her to be supportive and when they wanted her to be brutally blunt. Sometimes, she could leave them alone for weeks on end, and upon returning, they'd accept her and continue as if the last two months of silence hadn't occurred. It made her feel guilty because, almost always, she'd leave them in the middle of a problem – but that was the case for just about everyone.

There was a tiny, tiny voice at the back of her mind that told her to just give a noncommittal answer, no one could fault it.

She wished she'd listened to that little voice more often. Especially now, with Ryoji propped up in the middle of the room, his scarf tied tight around his neck, hauntingly familiar eyes sunken and apologetic.

Half of her wanted to kill him, half of her wanted to let him live, and the voice at the back of her head wanted to take his hands and never let go.

"Are you frightened?" she asked the face in the bullet cartridge that stared back at her.

"I am not."

"Does this mean I am not afraid as well?" Aegis thought aloud.

"I do not know. This is the first time we have conversed so intimately," the reply was flat. "… You comprehend fear?"

"I comprehend many things now, because of my friends." Aegis replies, setting the bullet down on her empty desk and attempting to unzip her school skirt without breaking it like the last three times.

"You comprehend friends?"

"Friends cannot be comprehended," Aegis corrected. She succeeded in removing the skirt, and clipped it up against the hanger that hung from a large protruding bolt of her bed. "They are simply friends," she concluded. Her voice bank malfunctioned briefly, placing unintended emphasis on the word 'friends'.

Athena tilted her head before saying, "I believe I know why you are not frightened now."

He could smell Lady's perfume growing faint under the heavy stench of blood and sweat. He listened to Short Skirt, breathing as if there were a weight in her chest, and Alpha Female, whose feet shivered almost unnoticeably against the marble floors of the pinnacle of Tartarus. The staircase leading to the roof was within his line of sight, they were so close – his feet shifted, and he launched into the fray.

Cerberus growled from his throat, two heads bearing rows of dagger-sharp teeth and the last one rearing back, jaws wide open.

Koromaru barked, sinking his teeth into the flesh of the two monsters that had a heart encircling them.

The fencing lance slammed against his snout and knocked him back, and the Shadow continued its rampage by casting a spell that sent everyone on their knees. Koromaru held back a whimper, because he couldn't let the monster hurt his friends right now– couldn't let them end up like Master and Red Coat.

Suddenly, Cerberus rose to shield him and everyone else, joints fixed into position and muscles stretched taunt, growling with fierce intent. Three pairs of eyes were on the approaching enemy, and the beast roared.

The Shadow hesitated for a split second, and Koromaru pushed off his paws to slash the enemy, sinking the sharp edge of his blade into the arm of the headless woman. The heart revolving overhead clattered on the floor, just as Aegis cranked up and onto the circuits of her legs. She fired a barrage of bullets, ending the battle in the nick of time.

His friends took turns rubbing him on the head and lifting him up onto his haunches to shake his paw and scratch the spot under his chin that he liked. He leaned into Baseball Cap's hand, remembering for just a moment how Master scratched him in a different way. Koromaru didn't mind, cracking open an eye to see Cerberus guarding them in the whiteness of the walls.

One head smiled while the other two rolled their eyes. It was odd to see that his tail was wagging agreeably for once, though.

She gripped the gun in her hand and pressed it hard against the skin of her forehead, preparing to pull the trigger. Everyone in her head had fallen into silence, itching to fight the apocalypse, waiting eagerly to be chosen – but she already knew who she was going to pick.

In the eyes of Nyx, she saw a metal skull with coffins dancing around. She recognized who it was even without the hair and the harp.

She raised the Evoker over her head, and saw a pair of red eyes looking down at her.

"I should have listened, huh?"

end

notes
- talking to yourself is a sign of sanity, it's a form of intrapersonal communication. If anything, I'm willing to bet that these kids were able to keep their sanity throughout the crisis because they were able to talk to their Personas
- why I chose FeMC instead of MC? Mainly because I like her r/s with Ryoji, and her character in general is more fun (and easy) to write, not to mention her red eyes.
- the part about how it's hard for her to make decisions is a reference to the fact that in-game, when you have to make a choice, the options differ so greatly from one another. I like to think that it's because of all the Personas in the FeMC/MC's head.
- arghh so sorry that my persona fics have been so incredibly linear… the next one will hopefully break the chain of 'following the storyline from start to end'. IT WILL BE A NON-CHRONOLOGICAL HIDETOSHI/FeMC PIECE. Hopefully.