What They Wept For
Mar. 19th, 2023 03:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Persona 2/Persona 4 crossover (Broken Hero)
Chapter Summary: The police department has clues and pain.
Word Count: 1088
Rating: Teen
Warning: Rough familial relationships, depression, reference to suicide practices in japan
Pairing: hinted Tatsuya/Jun
The police station, like the city, is a perfect model, if smaller in proportion. Oddly, Jun notices a sculpture of himself in the corner, along with Maya-nee, Eikichi, and Lisa, all scattered around. The others are preserved perfectly as they had been twelve years ago, Maya-nee checking out the station bulletin board with interest, Eikichi and Lisa in the middle of an argument, judging by the gestures, Jun watching with concealed amusement and interest, but—
He finds himself blushing. Even for a teenager, this depiction is a little too handsome. Is this the way Tatsuya sees him?
“This is you?” Hanamura-kun asks, displeasure at the cold forgotten as he pokes at Jun’s statue, and suddenly there’s an echo of his own voice.
“better not to get involved,” the fragment whispers, and Jun frowns. True, Lisa and Eikichi could get loud in their arguments, and did not tend to thank any interrupting, but that doesn’t sound like him—but no, of course not, this is Tatsuya’s perspective placed in perfect diorama.
“true, he’s more handsome, but at least I—” and “…like I’ve got a plan…” echo out from Eikichi and Lisa simultaneously, Maya’s statue following shortly with “…try it out and just think positive!” That bright tone would make Jun smile if not for the circumstances.
“Yes, that’s me,” he confirms, glancing up as Seta-kun calls quietly for his attention, pointing, and—oh.
Behind the desk are the usual detectives, but in front of it are more sculptures, this time of Tatsuya and Katsuya. He brushes past the police officer, ignoring the “don’t need any more of the Suou family” to approach.
Unlike the more faithful recreations of the rest of them, Katsuya and Tatsuya both look more distorted (well, there was the fact that Jun’s statue looked more handsome than he should have, but that’s minor compared to this). Tatsu-chan’s face is more expressive than he’s ever seen, looking down, unable to meet his brother’s eyes. He’s upset, desperate, scared, crying out for someone to listen only no one is. One hand is balled up in his pocket, probably holding onto the lighter with a death grip. He’d play with it, but he’s in a police station and Jun knows Katsuya would definitely arrest him or at least charge him for that (or, most likely, confiscate the lighter, and that would break him). No matter how much his brother looks like he needs the comfort.
Katsuya, on the other hand—no wonder they hadn’t gotten along and still don’t, if this is how Tatsuya sees him. In real life, Tatsu-chan is actually taller than Katsuya, but here Katsuya towers over Tatsu-chan, face twisted in loathing and contempt.
“We…need to hear them, don’t we?” Satonaka-chan asks, actually putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. How odd it must be for them. It’s one thing to hear the burdens of classmates or friends, but it must be uncomfortable to hear the troubles of adults many years their senpai.
For Tatsu-chan, he reminds himself, and reaches out.
Satonaka-chan lets out a small scream as blue flames race over the two figures, but they don’t burn his hand trying to impart any sort of comfort into Tatsuya. The statues move, jerky and unnatural.
“more useless than Father…nothing but a burden…wasting my time…never behave” Katsuya thunders, making Hanamura-kun wince, in Jun’s periphery. He unholsters his gun and points it right at Tatsu-chan’s head, causing Satonaka-chan to gasp behind him, but the frozen Tatsuya doesn’t even flinch.
“Would it have been easier on you if I had died that day?” Tatsuya’s voice asks, plaintive, full of pain and regret, but it’s coherent, louder than all but Katsuya—but then, it’s his dungeon, of course. “I suppose it’s hard, having two disappointments in the family instead of one, onii-san. I just wish you’d hear me out for once. I could use your help, but then, you’d never believe me about any of this. And it’s not as if I don’t deserve it. It’s…not like I have anything to live for, after all.”
Jun can’t stand it any longer. He draws the figure into a hug, trying to impart every ounce of love he has, and the figure shatters just like the dome had, tiny shards of ice digging into his skin and leaving behind bloody trails. Whether it’s because he’s fulfilled his purpose or—ow, Jun’s heart—Tatsuya can’t accept the comfort—is unclear. Jun glances around to find that the same fate has befallen all of the figures, leaving behind a hollow, empty space. Like an eerie void ready to swallow them whole.
Amagi-chan approaches and begins healing him silently, leaving him to his thoughts, which Jun appreciates. “What’s that?” she asks suddenly, and Jun glances around, eyes picking out a flower at his feet.
“Freesia, meaning childish or immature. Given the scene we just saw, I suppose it could be considered accurate, but…” He considers his next words carefully, sifting through the implications. Does this mean that Tatsuya had actually remembered any of the hanakotoba? True, he listened with keen interest when any of his friends were talking (especially him, Jun thinks with a secret pride), but listening and internalizing are very different.
“I thought Tatsuya enjoyed his work, but from the sounds of things he feels as if it was never a decision on his part but merely a path handed to him with no effort whatsoever. He doesn’t feel he deserves his place. And it—” He swallows. It becomes abruptly clear what this frozen world of stillness means. Tatsu-chan is depressed, still going through the motions and pretending there’s nothing wrong, but he can’t fool his own Shadow. “He said he’d figured out what he wanted to do when he grew up, but it seems he still hasn’t decided, and maybe he never will. He sees this as a duty rather than holding any intrinsic motivation—and while he cares deeply about protecting others, he doesn’t feel as if he’s earned any praise.”
Jun’s heart hurts all over again as the image of Tatsuya’s shoes laid neatly by the side of one of Sumaru’s bridges presents itself. If not for his sense of responsibility, he might already—
“Let’s get going,” he insists, rubbing his watch and blinking back tears of rage.
Hanamura-kun pats his shoulder as he passes, awkward but trying, grip on his kunai white-knuckled. Seta-kun seems even more on guard against ambush, while Amagi-chan is as cold as their surroundings, oppressive in her anger. They’re good kids.
Persona 2/Persona 4 crossover (Broken Hero)
Chapter Summary: The police department has clues and pain.
Word Count: 1088
Rating: Teen
Warning: Rough familial relationships, depression, reference to suicide practices in japan
Pairing: hinted Tatsuya/Jun
The police station, like the city, is a perfect model, if smaller in proportion. Oddly, Jun notices a sculpture of himself in the corner, along with Maya-nee, Eikichi, and Lisa, all scattered around. The others are preserved perfectly as they had been twelve years ago, Maya-nee checking out the station bulletin board with interest, Eikichi and Lisa in the middle of an argument, judging by the gestures, Jun watching with concealed amusement and interest, but—
He finds himself blushing. Even for a teenager, this depiction is a little too handsome. Is this the way Tatsuya sees him?
“This is you?” Hanamura-kun asks, displeasure at the cold forgotten as he pokes at Jun’s statue, and suddenly there’s an echo of his own voice.
“better not to get involved,” the fragment whispers, and Jun frowns. True, Lisa and Eikichi could get loud in their arguments, and did not tend to thank any interrupting, but that doesn’t sound like him—but no, of course not, this is Tatsuya’s perspective placed in perfect diorama.
“true, he’s more handsome, but at least I—” and “…like I’ve got a plan…” echo out from Eikichi and Lisa simultaneously, Maya’s statue following shortly with “…try it out and just think positive!” That bright tone would make Jun smile if not for the circumstances.
“Yes, that’s me,” he confirms, glancing up as Seta-kun calls quietly for his attention, pointing, and—oh.
Behind the desk are the usual detectives, but in front of it are more sculptures, this time of Tatsuya and Katsuya. He brushes past the police officer, ignoring the “don’t need any more of the Suou family” to approach.
Unlike the more faithful recreations of the rest of them, Katsuya and Tatsuya both look more distorted (well, there was the fact that Jun’s statue looked more handsome than he should have, but that’s minor compared to this). Tatsu-chan’s face is more expressive than he’s ever seen, looking down, unable to meet his brother’s eyes. He’s upset, desperate, scared, crying out for someone to listen only no one is. One hand is balled up in his pocket, probably holding onto the lighter with a death grip. He’d play with it, but he’s in a police station and Jun knows Katsuya would definitely arrest him or at least charge him for that (or, most likely, confiscate the lighter, and that would break him). No matter how much his brother looks like he needs the comfort.
Katsuya, on the other hand—no wonder they hadn’t gotten along and still don’t, if this is how Tatsuya sees him. In real life, Tatsu-chan is actually taller than Katsuya, but here Katsuya towers over Tatsu-chan, face twisted in loathing and contempt.
“We…need to hear them, don’t we?” Satonaka-chan asks, actually putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. How odd it must be for them. It’s one thing to hear the burdens of classmates or friends, but it must be uncomfortable to hear the troubles of adults many years their senpai.
For Tatsu-chan, he reminds himself, and reaches out.
Satonaka-chan lets out a small scream as blue flames race over the two figures, but they don’t burn his hand trying to impart any sort of comfort into Tatsuya. The statues move, jerky and unnatural.
“more useless than Father…nothing but a burden…wasting my time…never behave” Katsuya thunders, making Hanamura-kun wince, in Jun’s periphery. He unholsters his gun and points it right at Tatsu-chan’s head, causing Satonaka-chan to gasp behind him, but the frozen Tatsuya doesn’t even flinch.
“Would it have been easier on you if I had died that day?” Tatsuya’s voice asks, plaintive, full of pain and regret, but it’s coherent, louder than all but Katsuya—but then, it’s his dungeon, of course. “I suppose it’s hard, having two disappointments in the family instead of one, onii-san. I just wish you’d hear me out for once. I could use your help, but then, you’d never believe me about any of this. And it’s not as if I don’t deserve it. It’s…not like I have anything to live for, after all.”
Jun can’t stand it any longer. He draws the figure into a hug, trying to impart every ounce of love he has, and the figure shatters just like the dome had, tiny shards of ice digging into his skin and leaving behind bloody trails. Whether it’s because he’s fulfilled his purpose or—ow, Jun’s heart—Tatsuya can’t accept the comfort—is unclear. Jun glances around to find that the same fate has befallen all of the figures, leaving behind a hollow, empty space. Like an eerie void ready to swallow them whole.
Amagi-chan approaches and begins healing him silently, leaving him to his thoughts, which Jun appreciates. “What’s that?” she asks suddenly, and Jun glances around, eyes picking out a flower at his feet.
“Freesia, meaning childish or immature. Given the scene we just saw, I suppose it could be considered accurate, but…” He considers his next words carefully, sifting through the implications. Does this mean that Tatsuya had actually remembered any of the hanakotoba? True, he listened with keen interest when any of his friends were talking (especially him, Jun thinks with a secret pride), but listening and internalizing are very different.
“I thought Tatsuya enjoyed his work, but from the sounds of things he feels as if it was never a decision on his part but merely a path handed to him with no effort whatsoever. He doesn’t feel he deserves his place. And it—” He swallows. It becomes abruptly clear what this frozen world of stillness means. Tatsu-chan is depressed, still going through the motions and pretending there’s nothing wrong, but he can’t fool his own Shadow. “He said he’d figured out what he wanted to do when he grew up, but it seems he still hasn’t decided, and maybe he never will. He sees this as a duty rather than holding any intrinsic motivation—and while he cares deeply about protecting others, he doesn’t feel as if he’s earned any praise.”
Jun’s heart hurts all over again as the image of Tatsuya’s shoes laid neatly by the side of one of Sumaru’s bridges presents itself. If not for his sense of responsibility, he might already—
“Let’s get going,” he insists, rubbing his watch and blinking back tears of rage.
Hanamura-kun pats his shoulder as he passes, awkward but trying, grip on his kunai white-knuckled. Seta-kun seems even more on guard against ambush, while Amagi-chan is as cold as their surroundings, oppressive in her anger. They’re good kids.
