Once upon a time, three children survived something everyone else did not. It was the kind of thing that would have messed anyone up, but they didn't see that. They just knew it was them against the world.
For the longest time, those were the memories Chidori held most fondly. They'd cared about each other, back then. Taken care of each other. And, somewhere along the line, she'd started taking it for granted.
Perhaps the line was crossed when Takaya held his first gun, as precious as anything, his eyes gleaming gold.
She'd asked about it, at the time. Been told that everything was perfectly normal, and his eyes had always been that way. And she'd gone along with it, because he'd never given her reason to doubt him before.
But now, thinking back on those memories, she understood the truth.
Takaya's eyes used to be green.
"Of course I'll testify." She was the one person who could do so for both the cases of Shuji Ikutsuki and her former companions. There were plenty who had witnessed one or the other, but they all had school, so it would be easier to send her.
And then she'd see what happened to them. What those consequences were, in the world they'd been part of but never knew about.
Another thing they lied about.
She wanted to see that world for herself, too. To know what she'd been missing out on, those years where she hadn't felt anything, and followed the only person who did. What could have been, under better circumstances.
"It may take a while," Mitsuru warned her. Chidori found that, despite her heritage, Mitsuru was a perfectly reasonable person. Likable, even. Maybe it was simple solidarity between people who could both navigate and fight. "I can arrange your accomodations, but depending on our plans for the month..."
"I don't care about Tartarus." It would be interesting, to try and paint the blocks and how they came together, but just thinking about it was enough to know it was beyond her current skill. She'd taken a color palette of the new block on the last visit, and for her that was all that mattered. "Just chalk it up as another thing Ikutsuki took from me."
Or Takaya. He'd taken a lot of things, too. Mostly her peace of mind and the lives of other people.
And those matter.
She just wasn't looking forward to that part.
Even with a sketchbook, there was only so much one could do on a train. Chidori spent some time looking out the window, at a world she'd been told existed but never seen for herself, but for a lot of it, all she could really do was think.
She still didn't want to believe that Takaya and Jin were no longer the people she'd known from childhood. Takaya had taught her and Jin how to read as much as he was able, which wasn't a lot, but it let them get started. Jin had sought out the best places to loiter, that wouldn't kick them out before closing but had interesting things to do or look at. One of them had been an art supply store, and... that was how it got started.
Not that they'd paid for the supplies, of course. They were orphans, and the Dark Hour was the ultimate shoplifting experience. Why would they?
She wished she could tell exactly when things changed from that. The moments when she realized something couldn't have been the first moment it became true. She'd been too willing to believe the best of them for that.
Would knowing change anything?
"...I'm not sure," She admitted, quietly enough that no one else on the train could hear her. This had been happening more frequently, lately. She used to just reach for a pill whenever any unsolicited voices happened. But then she'd been given an actual prescription, with a strict schedule, and she'd had to learn to live with it.
Sometimes, responding felt like more of a relief than the pills. She tried not to examine that too closely, but... "Junpei would say not to worry about it. I think... I have to, for the sake of who they once were." No one else would remember them.
She wasn't even sure if they did.
They won't thank us for it.
"I know. That's why I have to." The nightmare they'd lived through would always be part of them. None of the people they used to be would have recognized themselves.
She was just the only one who'd admitted it. That some of it hadn't been necessary- that none of it had, except that a group of scientists had completely lost touch with morality, and at some point, Takaya had embraced that. Jin followed because it was Takaya. And Chidori hadn't wanted to be alone.
And now she wasn't. She'd escaped that darkness, even after they'd been consumed by it.
Maybe it was because darkness was her element. She couldn't remember if it always had been, but it was now. If that was what saved her in the end... She didn't know what to think about that, either. "He said we needed to do whatever we could to save ourselves." Well. Before he gave up on it. "I'm doing that now."
...So be it.
She wouldn't say it had been an instant realization. She'd literally had to talk herself through it.
But she had realized something.
And, for the first time in a long time, she immediately wanted to act on it.
"...Hello, Hypnos." Takaya had been ruled by his worst impulses for a long time. She owed it to him to acknowledge that for what it was. Jin certainly wasn't going to.
"...Come to revel in my failures?" He said this, but he looked healthier than he had in a very long time. The prison was at least forcing him to take care of himself until he could stand trial. He and Ikutsuki were probably going to be testifying against each other, it just felt like something they would do.
It was probably a good thing that they wouldn't let him starve to death in his cell. Chidori never would have been able to ask this otherwise. "Why are you here? When was the last time Takaya was himself?" The only way to get the answer to that would be to ask directly.
Hypnos shrugged. "He couldn't handle being human anymore. So I said I'd handle that part, too. It worked out."
Did it? Because it looked to her like their little arrangement had landed them in prison. "Can I talk to him?"
"He doesn't want to." Of course not. He'd given up on the world long before he gave up on her. Why bother? "You know, you could try being like us. You might be happier like that. It's not like you're that useful without Medea-"
"Apate." Of course he hadn't noticed anything was different. He hadn't properly noticed her in years. Maybe not ever.
It felt right, that the last thing she said to him would be the name of her Persona. To tell him that this sort of change was possible, though he'd long given up on it.
Jin hadn't even been willing to entertain this much. Her last words to him would always be when she left.
She'd just have to figure out how to live with that.
