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Yu Narukami wakes up to the first January morning of 2017 in his bedroom. Speckles of dust lit by the crisp air hang gently, filtered through the window blinds like a soft palm quietly stirring his slumber. In rhythmic succession metered by years of routine, he pulls on his jacket and winter clothes, despite the weather promising an unconcerningly warm day, and steps down the stairs of the Dojima residence following the scent of breakfast.
Nanako rolls eggs in a pan, neatly doling them out into five plates placed evenly across the table. A woman that Yu doesn't recognize and Uncle share a lively conversation. As Yu approaches, he opens his mouth to ask who their houseguest is.
This is only where things start to go wrong.
Like a shadow stirring, or a hunter aiming a rifle at its prey, Yu's eyes catch with a tremble to the last member of the house. One he had not seen when he entered.
"Oh, hey, Yu. You're up late."
And comes face to face with Adachi Tohru making himself coffee in his kitchen.
He gives an easy smile, waves one hand, and takes a spot next to Uncle.
As if the world would only move in slow motion, Yu can only take stock of the slick feeling of sweat across his own palm. Of the feeling of his tongue constricting in his throat. Uncle grumbles into his own mug, mouthing aside to Adachi as the man laughs off whatever halfhearted insult is thrown his way. The woman chides Uncle, and tucks aside a lock of her hair behind her ear. With the sensation of watching a rerun of a black and white comedy duo suddenly airing in color, all Yu can do is freeze.
He wants to move, wants to push himself forward to ask how, why, anything, but his vision tumbles to the next unbidden thought. Five seats are pushed around the table.
And, then, who exactly was -
"Nanako made breakfast. Do you want anything?" The woman asks. Her expression is fond, etched with wrinkles that speak of familiar smiles, and completely alien to Yu.
"Mom, when you say it like that, it makes it sound like I ruined it!"
"Sorry, sorry, yes. Nanako made breakfast, so you should have some."
With a crawling thud, he realizes. Nanako and this woman have the exact same shade of chestnut brown hair, running soft in the open windows. The light strangles the room, too clear and bright to see.
"Hey, big bro, where are you -"
The door clatters behind him with a thud.
Yu's feet guide him, his head too stormy to make any decisions of its own, and he finds himself on the main street of Inaba.
The door of the Velvet Room had vanished nearly a year ago, but he waits outside the space it once stood anyway. Margaret and Igor hadn't said anything before it disappeared either, a thought that brought a pit to Yu's stomach every time he thought about it. Means of contacting them, or even the other two attendants he had briefly encountered during the Red Fog incident, were impossible. The gap between buildings is visible to no one, but Yu stares at it anyway.
His aunt alive, Adachi out of prison, something was wrong, but -
How, exactly? That, he had no idea. As if everyone had shifted everything slightly to the left, and then agreed not to tell Yu.
Or, rather...
That they had no idea either.
...How did he get here?
"Hey, Narukami. What's going on here?"
A voice broke the silence. Not unwelcome or unfamiliar, but not the attendant or master Yu hoped would explain things. Naoki Konishi stood to one side to the road, plastic grocery bag slung over his shoulder, wearing a purposefully unaffected expression marred slightly by the excitement of seeing his friend.
"Nah, my sister is making me run errands 'cause she's too lazy to do it herself. She's like, 'I traveled all the way home last night, and you can't even get soba ingredients for me?' Can you believe it?"
"...Your sister?"
"Uh... yeah." Naoki tilted his head, "...hey, are you alright? You look kinda sick."
Where was he?
"Hey! Partner, how's it hanging! ...Uh, Yu? You there? Don't tell me you accidentally dialed me..."
"Yosuke, have you... noticed anything weird?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"...About Saki Konishi..."
"Is she back in town already?"
"It's nothing. Sorry."
"C'mon, what's with that sound in your voice? Heh, you're kinda freaking me out - huh? Yu? C'mon, don't just hang up like that!"
No, that wasn't right...
"Yu? What's up?"
"It's..."
"Oh, are you not free after all? 's cool if you're not, me and Yukiko are just -"
"I'll call back."
"Huh? Somethin' wrong? Whaddya mean?"
He must have gotten on the train, gone down from Tokyo, at some point, but, for some reason, he couldn't quite...
"Weird? Weird like what? Oh, shoot, hang on -- Yuko-senpai needs us now? ...Sorry, we have to get on set. I'll call you back though!"
"I haven't noticed anything of the sort. Is there an issue?"
How was he here?
"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."
How was it that...
One night ago...
Definitely, certainly...
He wasn't in Inaba at all.
The window apartment of his Tokyo dormitory had been left open by mistake, leaving the cold air in to shake him from his restless slumber. Sharp, and biting, Yu could feel traces of its chill run down his arms like a distant dream. He had been standing by the open window, hand resting against the frame, about to pull it down, but he hadn't. Why hadn't he?
"'s that so? That's a shame. Nanako was looking forward to seeing you."
A voice, on the phone. That was right. It was gruff, and familiar, tinged by fond affection. That was why - he had been calling someone. He was about to do something...
"Yeah, I'm really sorry, Uncle... I'll be able to be there a few days after, but my train was delayed."
No, he was about to go somewhere, but he couldn't. A delay, or a closure... somewhere along on some line, to a far off countryside village that he loved.
"Nothing to apologize about, Yu. We'll just let off some late fireworks."
"Yeah, sounds good. I'll find something to make up for it."
He had thought - to go to bed early, to see the ticket schedule for the next day.
"Just bring yourself, that's what she wants the most."
"...Yeah, me too. See you soon."
And then, he was in Inaba with his family, and seen the clocks tick over to the brand new year.
Was that right?
It wasn't?
And then, he had spent New Years' Eve alone.
Yu's palm is caked with a cold sweat not befitting of the weather. Still, he doesn't allow himself to tremble. His hasty departure from Naoki had left Yu near the train station, alone with whatever he had dashed out of the house with. He had exhausted his contact list, running through his disaffected friends and into the ragtag jumble of every other Persona user he had run into across the years. Yet, to not avail. Not as though a multi-millionaire CEO was going to pick up a college student's New Years' Day phone call, but Kirijo-san had said to contact the Shadow Operatives in case of emergency. This was an emergency, right? And how, after everything, had none of his friends noticed? How, after all this time, could he be —
A feeling traces itself over the back of his neck, bony and cold. An impulse of fear shakes his stupor, and he turns around.
That wasn't right at all.
In the daylight, a lanky, grey-haired employee stands at the gas station. As Yu looks back, their eyes make contact with his own.
Clad in a familiar neon orange and red that runs stark to their pallid face. A dry smile that stretches with rueful impassivity. It's hard to miss them, but that doesn't seem to stop people walking past.
Yu, against all better judgement, steps closer. With a smile, the station attendant speaks.
"Hi! Welcome to Moel," their white hand stretches out, like a corpse opening their own casket, "What can I get you today?"
Yu stares down at the open palm of the goddess. He casts it aside.
"What is happening?"
Izanami flicks the brim of their cheery orange-and-red hat in a mock consideration, eyes wandering to the sky as they fiddle with the brim. The main street of Inaba is never busy, but the eyes of the smiling passersby seem to glide right across him and the goddess' altercation.
"It's been a while since we talked like this, hasn't it, Seeker?" They ask with an offhand expression. Izanami halts with a turn of their head. They glance over and lean with their back against one of the stations, watching his face with careful consideration, "...The weather is nice, isn't it? It's estimated to stay like this for quite a while. But the rain will come eventually, and with that, the fog."
The sickly pallor of their skin shines almost translucent in the light.
"Until then, it's quiet. A little boring, even."
"You do know what's happening," Yu's fist clenches tighter as he stares down the goddess.
"The fact you've noticed... I'm glad your title isn't just for show, Seeker of Truth," They hum for a minute, in a way that Yu can tell they're simply playing for time, "The eternal wager of humanity spins onward. A man consumed by his Shadow, a god that takes advantage. In Tokyo, someone has taken control of the fabric of reality to sew his own ideal. What do you think of that, Child of Man?"
What does he think? Yu barely understands what they're saying, obfuscated as it is. He stares at them for a brief moment, then turns around. Back to the train station that he hadn't taken to get here. His footsteps echo against the pavement with a steady, barren chill. Izanami follows behind with a casual trot. They take the stairs two at a time with an unwary hop.
To Tokyo, then.
The station is enveloped in a bright winter cold, sunlight filtering through the windows into the familiar platform. The turnstiles stand on guard like toy soldiers lining the shelves. Behind the counter, nobody is there. As his steps make contact with the top of the station, his weight shifts. A sudden lurch across his stomach and the spinning of vertigo, and it takes all he can not to trip. Bile threatens to erupt from his mouth, but his lack of breakfast proves to be, in some ways, a valuable choice.
Step. Yu steadies himself. His gaze wanders up to the television to the right of the turnstiles to the schedule. The next train is...
The next train.
There are no trains to Tokyo.
In fact, there are no trains at all. The screen is empty. The black glass reflects his own sickly expression, distorted by a faint dent at the corner of the screen.
"It's a holiday, after all," Izanami remarks, snapping Yu from his stupor.
"What's happening here?"
A wry smile breaks across their face. "Let's consider the facts, Child of Man," They lift up one finger, the other palm outstretched to the sky, "First, a world molded by the wishes of mankind."
They point the other finger, "Second, an inability to ever leave this town."
Izanami's eyes illuminate in opalescent red. Yu is, inextricably, struck again by the pounding headache of static and fog. The air goes heavy.
"Who would wish for such a thing? Please consider the facts."
In the short distance, a TV seated in the gas station window and the train station schedule screen flicker on in unison. The two surround him in a crackle of black and white. Yu's body tenses by instinct to the sound of static, the familiar buzzing in his ears reactivating every inch of his instincts like a switch flicked on.
Through the static, he hears a voice:
"I wanted to stay with everyone forever."
A familiar voice echoes from the screen. One Yu hears every time he speaks. If anyone notices, they pay no mind.
"I didn't care if it was an illusion created by the fog."
"That's not -" He begins, interrupted by himself.
"Life without a connection to people is miserable."
"Did your feelings ever change?" Izanami asks in the pause.
"It's not the life I want."
Yu is surrounded on all sides, an echo chamber of himself filtered and echoing through the static. The sound stretches upwards, buzzing, trembling through his veins.
"I just need them here,
no matter what the cost -"
"Don't — you try — and twist what's happening," he gasps out.
The screen shutters black. The goddess shrugs, "I'm afraid that's not up to either of us, Child of Man. I don't determine the reality of this world and, despite appearances, I'm quite powerless in this state."
Yu finding he can breathe again, asks: "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, the hand of god is not pointed by me."
"But you do know something. Tell me."
"Only the basics. I've already told you everything important. A divine strength has emerged from an idiot soul, and is enveloping the world in its own wishes."
"In Tokyo."
With an exasperated sigh, they concede, "Yes, in Tokyo."
"Why can't I leave, then."
"Seeker, I take it back. For the one who quelled me, you're not particularly bright. We just went over this: because you do not want to leave Inaba."
Yu steadies himself, "And like I said. Don't try and twist what's happening. That isn't what I want."
A grin spreads across their face, "...Ah? Is that so?" They push their hat up to tap their forehead, "I seem to recall a certain someone doing just that."
"That was five years ago."
"People don't change so easily."
"It isn't about if it's easy."
"...Such a predictable response," Izanami sighs, "But you certainly are determined to fix this imbalance, aren't you?"
Yu nods.
"Unfortunately... This reality isn't built on what people want, it's built on what the idiot god thinks they want. Do you follow?"
"What if two wishes contradict each other?"
Izanami's smile stretches across their face, "He gets to decide which one will become reality."
"That's not a dream, then. That's just..."
"Yes. And so we've arrived. It's within his best interest to keep those who would oppose him on the tightest leash. As such, there is no escape from this town. Do you continue to understand?"
He does. Yu already made that decision, over, and over again.
"...The weather is nice. But sunny days can't last forever."
Izanami tilts their head. Swathed in red and orange, they shine like a divine scar against the unwavering white sky. Haloed by the light.
"So then how are you here? What's your game?" He interrupts.
Izanami blinks, once, then twice again. It's a little like watching a chicken stare at something entering its enclosure. Then, they cluck out a short, stark laugh, "Me? This isn't my game to play. In fact, I was as surprised as you are to find myself here again. If I had to guess, perhaps... a little side effect. Or a convenient distraction?"
Yu's stomach sinks to the bottom of his feet. No, he already figured as much when Marie hadn't picked up the phone. It's another matter entirely of having your suspicions confirmed.
"You, who pierces the fog. The Blind God sees you as a threat. It's funny, isn't it, that I of all -"
Yu turns around. His head lurches as response.
"Hey. Please tell me you don't intend to do that for the rest of the month."
He takes another step - feels the back of his collar grabbed - sees the pale hand of Izanami pull him backwards with an uncharacteristically bitter face. No, wait, that wasn't it. It was characteristic, if he just thought about it.
They hold him suspended by the collar, scruffing him with a disdainful bite of the lip, "Like-I-said. It's not up to either of us. I suggest you try and enjoy the time you have here."
"...There's no way I would enjoy this."
"But there truly is no way to escape."
Through the surging feeling of bile building up in his throat, Yu coughs out: "How would you know? You just got here."
"I'm trying to - ugh, fine," The look in her eyes, still, and stormy, betrays no hint of emotion beyond the barest hint of frustration, "If you're so inclined, throw yourselves up those stairs until you vomit yourself to collapse. Far from suitable behavior from the one who defeated me, but what am I to do?"
She loosens her grip, and Yu stumbles forward with a clatter of steps to steady himself. In her eyes was something, so faintly; a mote of dust illuminated by the light.
"...If there's anything I've learned, it's that I cannot stop the stubbornness of humanity."
Yu wants so desperately to reach out.
"You could help me, though. You said it yourself. If you can't stop me, so you might as well."
She stifles a pause, freezing in her step. Yu can't see her face beneath the lowered brim of their uniform hat. Her lips move slightly, as if to speak, but no sound escapes. The air stills cold in the silence, no trace of snow or cold to fill the space between them. She lifts her face again, quietly. Too clear and bright to see.
"Nice try," She raises one hand, waving carelessly behind her without so much as a passing glance, shoving the other into their uniform pocket. For a moment, her intonation drips down to a disaffected cadence, "...Happy New Year. Later, Yu."
It's familiar.
The daylight shines directly into his eyes, casting a mirror of white across her figure as they step aside, and then.
He's alone.
That, too.