Personatown: Soucial Linking
Mar. 28th, 2014 10:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerHelp, the bad puns, they just keep coming.
I was wondering what was up with my writing style at this point, and I figured it out. I'm doing the Japanese exposition thing (prominent, for example, in Bleach). So that makes more sense now.
Next 'issue' is where things get really exciting. We get to see a little more of how all this superhero stuff works in Personatown.
Also a little interlude with Mitsuru and Akihiko, dialogue only, because this world is more than just a few superheroes and it's short and funny and probably will never be more on its own, so why not include it as a little present here? (It probably won't make sense if you haven't at least seen pictures of Arena, though.)
Main Points:
Persona Superhero AU
Summary: Souji wonders who was that mysterious masked man, and meets someone new.
Word Count: 2469
Rating: K
Note: THERE WILL BE SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE PERSONA SERIES. READ AT YOUR OWN RISk.
Dedicated to City of Heroes. Paragon City will live on through its heroes.
"Next time I'll bring Nanako shopping at Junes. She'll be mad that I went without her." The man opened the door to the fridge, cradling the phone in one shoulder as he grabbed out the bottle of ramune inside.
Despite the grey hair, he was actually very young—in his twenties, in fact.
He frowned and lowered his voice. "Have you found any information on Jiraiya, yet?" Not that he was angry with Sukuna-Hikona, really; more frustrated with the ability of the vigilante in question to hide like a ghost. The analysis of the blood sample Izanagi had inadvertently obtained during the vigilante's raid on a SEBEC facility had revealed nonsensical results. At least that had allowed the Inaba Investigation Team (they really needed to come up with a better title for their supergroup, since it didn't sound as impressive as many others and wasn't strictly accurate given where they lived now anyway, Souji thought fondly) to confirm that what they had seen had been mere illusion, but of a strength they'd never seen before. The jury was still out on whether the power was mentally based or…something else.
The Detective Prince sounded about as discouraged as Seta Souji felt, which was a bad sign. Usually Naoto-kun had no issues pursuing any case with dogged persistence. "I was only able to find information distributed by the media, of which you've already seen the entirety, or a few police reports, which have little to add, or the mythological information, which, while relevant, doesn't tell us anything of which we aren't already aware."
"Tell me the most important parts anyway." He couldn't give this chance up, no matter how small.
"Senpai, I've looked over the information a thousand times. Forgive me, but I doubt you'll see something you missed."
Grey eyes narrowed. "I am sure as you have been a detective for a long time, you have learned that a fresh pair of eyes is sometimes all you need to get a break." He didn't raise his voice, because he didn't have to. A slight scolding tone from him was enough to get through to her.
"My apologies. I have been staring at research for far too long, it seems." Already the Detective Prince sounded calmer. Souji had that effect on people, and secretly loved it. They had a reason to keep him around.
"As we expected, one of the most famous of mythological Jiraiya's powers is that of illusion. Whatever you saw wasn't real. Furthermore, I suspect that his type of illusion is not mind-based; that is, he isn't personally seeing your fears and projecting them. The illusion is created in the mind of the person who sees it. He's merely inducing your mind to hallucinate. In certain cases, he can induce a common hallucination if he wants, in order to make sure the witness accounts tally. He can use it do ongoing effect, as our attempts to identify the blood sample you obtained demonstrate."
"That's a relief." None of them, despite promptings from Naoto, at first befuddled and later growing impatient, had revealed exactly what they had seen. It seemed too personal, too embarrassing somehow.
Except 'embarrassing' wasn't quite the right word. Fear or dread, perhaps, memories of things better left unspoken lest some sleeping nameless evil be awoken at the mere mention of its existence. Lest a careless word conjure them to reality.
Souji was grateful that the smirking, yellow-eyed version of himself taunting him, threatening to reveal that though he was the team's leader he was no less flawed than the rest of them, was merely an illusion. He did, however, wonder what that said about him.
"Wind wasn't mentioned. I'd wonder whether that, too, wasn't an illusion if not for the damage left behind." The researcher they'd been asked to protect had politely thanked them for 'keeping him grounded', cheerfully unaware that he'd almost been flattened by a flying wall during the fight. Izanagi was uncomfortable, but rather than admitting that, he had merely told the man that it was good he was unhurt.
"That was far too close." Maybe they hadn't been ready for operations in the big city, no matter how successful they had been in their hometown. Even if, in the end, the matter had turned out to be something of national proportions.
Crime in Sumaru City, better known as Personatown, was different. In Inaba, there had been little in the way of surprises. The identity of the ones behind the incidents, of course. But practically no one (other than the gas station attendant herself) had unexpected powers. Generally they didn't need to worry about not being strong enough and the villains usually didn't go for the kill. Jiraiya on the other hand, for all the talk about being a vigilante, not a supervillain, hadn't held back one bit.
And yet…he had. From what he'd heard, vigilantes commonly assumed anyone out to stop their singleminded crusades was evil, on the side of those they'd sworn to punish for real or imagined crimes, but not Jiraiya. He'd assessed their power better than they'd assessed his, used just enough to have them down for the count, and then simply left. His only goal was escape. A villain would have captured them or severely wounded or even killed them, but Jiraiya had not done so.
And Izanagi had seen, or thought he had seen, some apology in those glowing yellow eyes before the vigilante had literally thrown himself off the third story.
Confusing. Souji didn't really know how to categorize the guy.
"Indeed. But, judging by police reports, these results are not unexpected. Jiraiya is extremely powerful, yet has actively avoided hurting civilians and those he considers innocent, in which, unlike most, he includes a number of SEBEC employees. Generally, mostly only the everyday employees, which likely means he considers them merely ignorant tools of evil. He has killed before, but rarely, and prefers interrogation. He's searching for something specific."
Souji felt a chill of disappointment, odd as that sounded. He shrugged that aside and focused on the important details. He shrugged that aside, for once impatient, and focused on the important details. Then a thought occurred to him. Really, a fresh eye indeed.
"Maybe we should be focusing less on finding this vigilante, and more on finding out what said vigilante is looking for."
He hears a surprising amount of suppressed excitement from the other end of the line. "Of course! Jiraiya has done an exemplary job hiding physically—no trace of his presence. However, if we consider the psychological aspects, we may be able to do better. We may be able to track him or even predict where he'll strike next."
"Understanding him might be the key to stopping him, yes." Souji didn't add that he hoped, still, that they could talk, work out a peaceful solution. Yes, it was unlikely, but it'd be nice if, just once, it would work that way.
He could hear the smile in the Detective Prince's voice. "Thank you, senpai. You were…getting a new apartment, were you not?"
He again cradled his phone between his ear and shoulder, so he could open the bottle of soda. It allowed him a moment to think, too, which was useful. "Yeah, Dojima-san and I talked, and we agreed it would probably be best if I got my own place now that I’m attending university." He didn't mention that it had been mostly Dojima talking and him listening, that he'd agreed, not wanting to be a burden, that he half suspected a major contributor to his uncle's 'suggestion' was probably Nanako's insistence that she would marry him someday. It had been cute if awkward at the time, but now that they were both older it might become more serious. No one needed to hear that. If he wasn't a burden or unwanted…well, that was all he could really ask for. "I got everything mostly moved in. Other than that, I haven't seen much. I haven't even met any of my neighbours. So far, it seems pretty qui—"
The slamming of a door. Running, heavy footsteps. Most people probably wouldn't have bothered to investigate. It wasn't their business, or they'd only make it worse, or it was too dangerous. Souji wasn't most people.
"Excuse us, Naoto-kun, I think my neighbors are welcoming me to the complex in their own special way. I'll speak to you soon."
"Of course, Souji-senpai. I will continue in this new direction, and inform you of any new breakthroughs."
It probably would have been more polite to thank her, but he'd already decided he didn't have time to wait. He barely had enough time to set down the ramune and grab his keys. His mind only took a split second to determine that his phone might be useful, in case someone needed to be called for help.
By the time he'd made it outside, the hallway was deserted. He could hear a soft sound, a sound he recognized from when Nanako and Ryōtaru Dojima were estranged. The sound of someone crying, softly, desperately, not wanting others to hear. From that, determining the correct door was simple. He knocked, just in case, but the person inside crying probably hadn't even heard.
He knocked a little harder, and suddenly realized that the door was open—just slightly, but…
Okay. Technically, this was illegal, but when this much anguish was coming from a place, he couldn't just leave it alone. He had to help.
He pushed the door open to find a brunette with messy hair and headphones collapsed on the ground, crying.
He approached slowly, swallowing. "Hey. A-are you all right?" No response. Gently, he touched the shaking shoulder, but his neighbour didn't react.
Not good—he's in shock. I need to assess his condition. If only Himiko was here; she's much better at this than I am!
He reached out a hand over the body and closed his eyes, feeling the rush of healing power course through him.
He's not necessarily in physical danger, if I'm reading this correctly. Unless he doesn't snap out of it quickly enough. Well, that's my job.
He carefully turned the man over, making sure that his analysis hadn't missed anything. Still no reaction, as the desperate crying continued. If anything, it had grown louder, instinct no longer able to restrain the volume of the emotion pouring forth.
I was planning on a nice, quiet evening. Clearly, not in the cards.
Not that Souji could say he minded. The ability to help others in trouble was a major reason why he'd become Izanagi in the first place.
Carefully, he picked up his neighbor, who was lighter than he should be, and set him down on the couch. Then, he went to the fridge. His neighbour didn't have much in the way of ingredients to make nice, comforting foods. Souji frowned at the contents, thinking. He'd be far more comfortable if he grabbed a few things from his own kitchen, but he'd have to leave the door open and given why he'd rushed out here in the first place, better not. And taking his neighbour to his own apartment was out of the question. Waking up in a strange environment was not going to put the already panicked man at ease. He just had to make do with what he had—which, of course, was a skill he had perfected long ago.
They had eggs. Maybe he'd try to make omurice. The fridge didn't have the exact ingredients, but he could improvise (and he wasn't cooking for just himself, so he couldn't just put anything in).
He'd gotten all the ingredients together and headed back to the bedroom to grab a blanket to keep the shivering and still crying brunette warm.
Two bedrooms, both furnished. Both had televisions and games and stacked pizza boxes, but he guessed the one with towers of cds and the yellow guitar was probably the brunette's, given the headphones. Though it was more a guess than anything.
He returned and carefully tucked the even louder-sobbing neighbour in, and the guy curled up into the warmth. With a smile, Souji returned to his work.
He'd finished the omelet and was trying to figure out what to do with what he'd cooked when he heard a weak voice interrupted with hiccups. "Uhhh….not to be rude, but what's an odd guy I've never seen before doing in my apartment?"
Souji turned with a smile. "Neighbour Seta Souji, at your service. I couldn't leave anyone like this."
Pale cheeks dusted red with embarrassment. "A-ah. Sorry about that."
"I won't hear you act as if it's your fault. Now, would you like your food or a shower first?" He might refuse, which would hurt the grey haired man's feelings, but he'd live.
The guy yawned. "Uh, I kind of feel like sleep. I'm kind of exhausted by that. But, uh…" he stood and stretched, surreptitiously swiping at his face. "Oh, hey, I'm Hanamura Yosuke. And food, I guess. As long as you're not some kind of creepy stalker man." He winked. The effect was somewhat ruined by his tear-stained cheeks, though.
"I'm just nosy," Souji smiled, not overly so, just enough to hopefully reassure, then shrugged. "I’m going to eat these if you won't. You kind of sidetracked my evening plans."
"You don't have to stay, man…" Yosuke stated quietly, voice cracking a little from the strain of crying. He looked embarrassed again.
Self esteem issues. "I told you, I'm nosy. I have to poke my nose into places it doesn't belong."
That, at last, got the headphone-wearing brunette to laugh. "We have something in common, then, neighbour." Another second with a hesitant expression, then he sat down, grinning. His stomach rumbled. He laughed again, nervously. "Sorry about that. My stomach's rude."
"Your stomach's just eager." A weird look crossed Yosuke's face. "I don't blame it. You're probably exhausted. I'm just flattered, as a cook."
"Dude, you're easy to please." Yosuke got up again, making his way to the refrigerator. He frowned upon seeing its contents, too, but eventually chose a carbonated lemon drink. "Anything you want specifically? Any chef-recommended drinks to accompany the meal?" He sniffed a little, but seemed a lot more cheerful than he'd been previously.
Souji smiled softly. "Actually, I had a bottle of ramune I'd just opened. You'll let me back in, right?"
Yosuke grinned widely and winked. "Nope. Minute you're out, I'm building a huge blockade on this door."
Souji stuck out his tongue. "Well, see if I ever cook you something again."
They exchanged playful grins, and then Souji left, practically sprinting down the hall to get back as soon as possible. This was actually fun, not frustrating, and finding Jiraiya could wait for a little while.
"No. Absolutely not. As the head of the Shadow Operatives, I forbid you to wear such a revealing outfit."
"I'm wearing pants."
"That is not the issue here, Akihiko, and you know it. Come up with a different costume."
